Jewish Studies at the Turn of the Twentieth Century, Proceedings of the 6th EAJS Congress - Toledo, July 1998, Volume 2: Judaism from the Renaissance to Modern Times

JEWISH STUDIES AT T H E T U R N O F T H E T W E N T I E T H CENTURY V O L U M E II

JEWISH STUDIES AT THE TURN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY Proceedings of the 6th EAJS Congress Toledo, July 1998 Volume II: Judaism from the Renaissance to Modern Times

E D I T E D BY

J U D I T T A R G A R O N A BORRÂS AND

ANGEL SÁENZ-BADILLOS

VOLUME

TWO

' '68 ‫' י‬

BRILL LEIDEN · B O S T O N · KÖLN 1999

Deutsche Bibliothek - GIP-Einheitsaufnahme J e w i s h s t u d i e s a t t h e t u r n o f t h e t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y : proceedings of the 6th EAJS congress, T o l e d o , J u l y 1998 / ed. b y j u d i t T a r g a r o n a Borrâs a n d Angel Sàenz-Badillos. - Leiden ; Boston ; K ö l n : Brill ISBN 90-04-1 1559-5

Vol. I. Biblical, rabbinical, and medieval studies.—1999 ISBN 90-04-1 1554-4 Vol. 2. Judaism from the Renaissance to Modern Times.—1999 ISBN 90-04-1 1558-7

L i b r a r y of C o n g r e s s Cataloging-in-Publication

Data

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication D a t a is also available

ISBN ISBN

90 04 11558 7 (Vol. 2) 90 04 11559 5 (Set)

© Copyright 1999 by Koninkhjke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher. Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Brill provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910 Danvers MA 01923, USA. Fees are subject to change. PRINTED IN THE NETHERLANDS

To the memory of Prof. Shelomoh Morag

CONTENTS

PART

ONE

JEWISH MYSTICISM A N D

PHILOSOPHY

PETER SCHÄFER

Jewish Mysticism in the Twentieth Century

3

FRANCESCA ALBERTINI

Ehje asher Ehje: Ex. 3,14 According to the Interpretations of Moses Mendelssohn, Franz Rosenzweig and Martin Buber

19

A M I R A ERAN

The Relevance of Intertextual Interpretation of Texts for the Teaching of Jewish Philosophy: Hermann Cohen and Franz Rosenzweig on Ethos and Eros

27

ROLAND GOETSCHEL

Kawwanah et finalité de la prière dans le Shomer Emûnîm de Joseph ben Emmanuel Ergaz (1685-1730)

34

ALESSANDRO G U E T T A

Avraham Portaleone: From Science to Mysticism

40

IRENE KAJON

The Problem of Divine Justice in Samuel David Luzzatto's Commentary to the Diwan o f j e h u d a Halevi

48

J o s E P PUIG MONTADA

O n the Chronology of Elia del Medigo's Physical Writings

54

R A M Ô N R O D R Î G U E Z AGUILERA

La sabiduria ética de Spinoza, en perspectiva histôrica

57

STEFAN S C H R E I N E R

Rabbanite Sources in Isaac of Troki's SeferHisguq Emunah

65

RUBEN STERNSCHEIN

Tensiones en la interpretation de Ea Religion de la Ra^on

73

ALEXANDER T H U M F A R T

Readings on Cabbala: Giovanni Pico della Mirandola

83

PART

T W O

JEWISH

ART

GABRIELLE SED-RAJNA

Studies on Jewish Art in the Last Fifty Years. A Survey

93

D A V I D CLARK

Social Implications of Spatial Locations of Jewish Museums in Europe .... 106 J.-M. COHEN

A New Approach to the Study of Jewish Ritual Textiles

115

FEDERICA FRANCESCONI

Argenterie hébraïque

à

Modena

(XVIII e —XIX e

siècle)

121

ESTHER GRAF-HABER

Jüdische Maler und Graphiker in Skandinavien von den Anfängen im 17. Jahrhundert bis zum Beginn des 1. Weltkriegs

129

DALIA HAITOVSKY

The Hebrew Inscriptions in Ludovico Mazzolino's Paintings

133

V1NCENZA M A U G E R I

Anciennes Synagogues de Modena

(XVI C -XIX C

siècle)

146

ELIAS V. MESSINAS

Late Synagogues of Greece: Origins and Architecture. The Relationship between Greek Synagogues and Medieval Spanish Synagogues: The Bimah

152

AVIGDOR W . G . P O S È Q

Soutine and El Greco

158

SUZY S I T B O N

L'espace, les formes dessinées par la lettre, le texte dans les bibles hébraïques espagnoles du XIII e siècle

163

E D W A R D VAN V O O L E N

Aspects of Emancipation: Dutch Art and the Jews

PART JEWISH

169

THREE

LITERATURE

BOAZ ARPALY

Jaffa Versus Jerusalem: On the Meaning of the Social-Ideological Composition of Temol Shilshom (Only Yesterday) or A G N O N Prophesizes the Future of the Israeli Society

179

RJSA D O M B

Narration and Nation: Isrsaeli Literature in Fifty Years of Statehood

186

RAQUEL GARCÍA L O Z A N O

Hacia un nuevo nosotros: Aná1isis de la poesîa de Yehudah Amichai

194

GABRIELLA M O S C A T I STEINDLER

Between Ideology and Tradition: Biblical Archetypes in Women's Poetry in Eretz-Israel

202

M A R Í A P É R E Z VALVERDE

El lenguaje como soporte del modelo hermenéutico de la novela Véase: Amor de David Grossman

209

ALICIA RAMOS G O N Z A L E Z

The First Hebrew Women Writers: Writing on the Margins

215

G I L A RAMRAS-RAUCH

Ida Fink and Holocaust Literature

225

Z 0 H A R SHAVIT

The Lost Children of German-Jewish Culture

229

ENCARNACIÔN VARELA

Hypotexts of Leah Goldberg's Sonnets: Ahabatah sheI Teresa di Mon

236

MONIKA ZEMKE

The German-Jewish Writer Arnold Zweig and his Relation to Judaism

PART HISTORY AND

244

FOUR SOCIOLOGY

ELIZABETH A N T É B I

Baron Edmond de Rothschild (1845-1934): From HaNadiv (The Benefactor) to HaNassi (The Prince)

251

LISA ANTEBY

Ethiopians and Russian Immigrants in Israel: Post-Zionist O/im?

257

R I T A BREDEFELDT

Jewish Life in Sweden 1860-1930. Economy and Identity in a Nordic Perspective

265

D A V I D CLARK

Creating Jewish Spaces in European Cities: Amnesia and Collective Memory

274

JUDITH R. COHEN

Music and the Re/Construction of 20th Century Iberian Crypto-Jewish Identity

282

J U D I T H FRISHMAN

The Jews' Refusal to Believe: 19th Century Dutch Polemics Concerning the Jews and Their Fate

293

SYLVIE A N N E G O L D B E R G

Questioning Time

300

IVAN KALMAR

Jewish Orientalism

307

U R I R . KAUFMANN

Historiography on Modern Jewry in Germany after 1945

316

A N N A - R U T H LÖWENBRÜCK

Die Auswirkungen der Emanziparionsgesetzgebung auf die jüdischen Landgemeinden im Herzogtum Sachsen-Meiningen 1811 bis 1871

323

DANIEL MEIJERS

Europe's Last Pogrom? A Provisional Note on the Sociogenesis of Discrimination and Violence

330

GLORIA M O U N D

Jewish and Marrano Connections in the Relationship of Prinz Luis Salvador of Habsburg and Nathanial von Rothschild

337

KRZYSZTOF PILARCZYK

Zur Zensurfrage der jüdischen Bücher in Polen im 16. und 17. Jahrhundert

346

M A R C LEE RAPHAEL

Rabbi Norman Gerstenfeld's Crusade against Zionism, 1935—1948

354

KAREN LISA G . SALAMON

Setting the Table. Meals as Jewish Socio-Cultural Praxis in Late Modernity

360

BARBARA SCHÄFER

The K E D E M — A Cultural Foundation for Hebrew Culture in Palestine. An Attempt that Failed

368

MARCELLA S I M O N I

"The only little corner of the great British Empire in which no one ever played cricket." Reciprocal Relations in British Palestine: Health and Education (1930-39)

375

A N T H O N Y DAVID SKINNER

Jewish Modernism. The Hidden Meanings of Gershom Scholem's Sabbatei Sevi

384

SANDY SUFIAN & SHIFFRA SHVARTS

"Mission of Mercy" and the Ship that Came too Late: American Jewish Medical Relief to Palestine During World War I

389

ADAM SUTCLIFFE

Sephardi Amsterdam and the European Radical Enlightenment

399

CHAVA WEISSLER

Tkhines for the Sabbath Before the New Moon

PART

406

FIVE

SEPHARDIC

STUDIES

CARMEN ALBERT

El régimen de comparativo y superlativo en la traducciôn ladinada (siglo XV) del Cuyari de Yehudá Halevi

415

TAMAR ALEXANDER & YAAKOV BENTOLILA

Elementos hispânicos y jaquéucos en los refranes judeo-espanoles de Marruecos

421

BEATRIZ A L O N S O ACERO

Entre la aceptaciôn y el rechazo: la presencia judia en Oràn (1589-1639)

430

MARY ALTABEV

The Role of Judeo-Spanish in the Framework of the Turkish Jewish Collective Idendty

440

ROSA ASENJO

Aspectos del neojudeoespafiol en el Me'am lo'e^Sir Halirim

446

AMELIA BARQUÍN

Martirio; cenas de la vida: un folletin de Sam Lévy

451

A N N E T T E BENAIM

"Le dixo tomadlo por Quiduxin." La validez de este fenômeno segûn se refleja en alguna de las responsa sefardies del siglo XVI

457

A N G E L BERENGUER AMADOR

Aspectos lingüisdcos del libro de David M. Atias La giierta de oro (Liorna, 1778)

464

K E N N E T H BROWN

Genio y figura de seis poetas sefardies de Amsterdam, Hamburgo y Livorno de los siglos XVII-XVIII

469

M I G U E L A N G E L DE BUNES IBARRA

Los Sefardies entre la Cristiandad y el Islam en los siglos XVI y XVII

478

J U L I O CAMARENA

Cuento espafiol, cuento sefardi: Paseo por entre dos mundos

485

ESTHER C O H E N

El roi de la mujer judia en la transmisiôn de la cultura sefardi, siglos XVI y XVII

491

FERNANDO D Í A Z ESTEBAN

La fidelidad de los Judios a los Reyes en la Hisioria Universal]udajca de Miguel de Barrios

498

J O S É - M A N U E L GONZALEZ BERNAL

El judeoespanol en los libres de texto de Lingua espaiiola (castellana) y Literatura en las Ensenanzas Médias (Secundaria) en Espafia

504

CARMEN H E R N A N D E Z GONZÀLEZ

Aspectos morfosintâcucos del superlativo en la prensa sefardi de Salônica (1897-1935)

511

IVAN KANCHEV

Solidaridad lingüistica y tolerancia religiosa de los Sefardies balcânicos

517

Y1TZCHAK KEREM

The Fate of Greek Sephardic Cultural Personalides in the Holocaust

523

D O R A Ν . MANTCHEVA

El Dicnonario judeo-espanol-bùlgaro de Albert Pipano como testimonio lexicogrâfico

530

M A CARMEN MARCOS CASQUERO

Las adaptaciones literarias en un "romanzo tresladado": El buraco del inßerno (Esmirna, 1908)

538

MARGALIT MATITIAHU

Comparaciôn entre la poesia en ladino, 1írica y humoristica, en los periôdicos de Salônica (1860-1940) y la poesia lirica y humoristica publicada en Israel (1950-1965)

546

ALMUTH M Ü N C H

Nociôn y realidad de "emancipaciôn" y "asimilaciôn" en dos tipos de textos de influencia publica: Ejemplos del periodismo sefardi de Oriente y el Me'am Lo 'eZ Šir HaŠirim de Hayyim Yishaq Šaki (1899) 555 MARIBEL M U N O Z JIMÉNEZ

El imperativo en judeoespanol

563

ISAAC PAPO

Consideraciones sobre la evolution histôrica de la prensa judeoespanola en Turquia y en los Balcanes

567

HILARY POMEROY

Halia Isaac Cohen's Notebook: A New Sephardic Ballad Collection

Rocfo

578

PRIETO

A propôsito de la copia El testamento de Aman

584

ALDINA QUINTANA RODRÎGUEZ

Proceso de recastellanizaciôn deljudesmo

593

S H M U E L REFAEL

Poemas sin senso (Nonsense Poetry) en la poesia popular sefardi

603

ANA RIANO

Fuentes rabinicas en el Me'am lo'e^Isaias

610

BERND ROTHER

Espanoles filosefardies y primeros falangistas

616

M E S S O D SALAMA

Funciôn y poédca del Romancero biblico sefardi

623

MIRTA SCHNEIDER

La poesia marrana y su proyecciôn en el siglo XXI. Del momento de la expulsion a través de la poesia de J. P. Delgado a su vigencia présente

631

HAIM-VIDAL SEPHIHA

El ladino (judeo-espafiol calco) de Ishac Cardoso

637

M I T C H E L L SERELS

Contribution of Sephardim to the Development of Lusophone Africa

641

E D W I N SEROUSSI

Hacia una tipologia musical del cancionero sefardi

649

HARALAMBOS SYMEONIDIS

El judeoespanol de Tesalônica en contacto con la lengua griega. Investigaciôn sobre ejemplos fonéticos seleccionados

658

C A R M E N VALENTÎN DEL BARRIO

Los extremes de la vida y sus conexiones con el poema judio medieval Lamentaäön del alma ante la muerte

667

SETH W A R D

Converso Descendants in the American Southwest: A Report on Research, Resources, and the Changing Search for Identity 677 SUSANA W E I C H SHAHAK

Temas paneuropeos en la tradition oral del Romancero Sefardi: Preservation y cambio

687

JOHN M . ZEMKE

El alma : el cuerpo :: el piloto : la nave (De anima 413a8): El regimiento de la vida de Moshe Almosnino

694

PRESENTATION In July of 1998 the European Association for Jewish Studies celebrated its Sixth Congress in Toledo, with almost four hundred participants. This singular city, full of historical memories of Jewish life, offered a very attractive, unforgettable setting for a fruitful meeting of Jewish scholars from all over the world. In these Proceedings we have collected a significant portion of the papers and communications that were read during the Conference, including the opening lecture (by Sh. Morag), and the four general lectures (by F. Garcia, S. Reif, P. Schäfer and G. Sed-Rajna). By and large, the papers offer a broad, realistic perspective on the advances, achievements and anxieties of Judaic Studies at the turn of the 20th century, on the eve of the new millennium. Above all, they represent the point of view of the European scholars, enriched with notable contributions by colleagues from other continents that participated in our scientific meeting. The Congress was possible thanks to the collaboration of many individuals and institutions, whom we would like to thank here. First of all, the members of the Honorary Committee, which was presided over by H. M. the Queen of Spain, and included several significant personalities from political and academic life. The Executive Committee of EAJS (that fixed the main lines of the Congress). The fifteen distinguished scholars who agreed to prepare and coordinate the academic aspects of the different sections, and thereby earned our particular gratitude: M. Pérez, J. Rivera, L. Giron, M. Goodman, M. F. Garcia Casar, H. Trautner-Kromann, S. A. Goldberg, G. Abramson, R. Fontaine, M. Schlütter, G. Sed-Rajna, Κ. L. G. Salamon, U. Haxen, E.Romero and A. Sàenz-Badillos. The Organizing Committee also included F. Diaz Esteban, F.J. Fernández Vallina, R. Izquierdo and C. Carrete. We would also like to thank the institutions that offered financial support to the celebration of the Congress: the Fundaciôn Diâlogos, the Universidad Complutense de Madrid, the Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha, the Spanish Ministry of Education and Culture, the Museo Sefardi of Toledo and BCH. All the individuals who contributed with practical means or personal help, including the staff and members of the Department of Hebrew and Aramaic Studies of the Universidad Complutense, Madrid, and of the Center for Advanced Judaic Studies of the University of Pennsylvania, as well as E. Alfonso, C. Boon and J. Goertz, who carefully corrected the proofs, have earned our deep gratitude. All of them have helped make the publication of these volumes possible. The original sections of the Congress have been reorganized for publication. This volume is dedicated to the Judaism of modern times, from the Renaissance to our days. The papers have been arranged according to subject: thought, art, literature, history and sociology, and a considerable section on Sephardic Studies (which has been possible with the help of I. M. Hassán and E. Romero). Another volume includes the papers dealing with Jewish studies on biblical, rabbinical and medieval times, as well as Jewish languages and bibliography. Judit Targarona Borrâs and Angel Sàenz-Badillos

PART

ONE

JEWISH MYSTICISM A N D

PHILOSOPHY

JEWISH MYSTICISM IN THE T W E N T I E T H CENTURY PETER SCHÄFER Berlin, Germany and Princeton, USA

When the organizers of this congress first approached me about giving one of the plenary presentations they suggested a lecture on the study of classical Rabbinic literature and of Jewish mysticism in the 20 th century. I don't think they were motivated by a belief in some inherent relationship between the two areas of research, some mysterious affinity hopefully to be revealed by me, but rather, and much more down to earth, with this topic proposal they simply wanted to kill two birds with one stone (if I may use this metaphor), to cover in one lecture two major areas of Jewish Studies. For a moment I was tempted to accept the challenge and to put on, so to speak, first the hat of Rabbinic literature and then that of Jewish mysticism but only for a very brief moment—the two hats, I'm afraid, would have merged all too soon into a clown's cap. So we agreed upon "Jewish mysticism in the 20 th century," not a particularly modest choice either. That I decided in favor of Jewish mysticism instead of Rabbinic literature was not only because of my own (present) predilection but also because I would venture the opinion that, within the array of the various disciplines of Jewish Studies, the 20 th century may be called with some justification the century of Jewish mysticism, and this in the double sense that it is only in the 20 ,h century that research on Jewish mysticism became an academic discipline (nobody will dispute this), and that during this century hardly any other field of Jewish Studies has been as flourishing and, indeed, as fashionable as Jewish mysticism. This second assertion, of cause, may be disputed but I think we can all agree that the history of scholarship on Jewish mysticism in the 20 th century is the history of an unforeseen and most amazing success, certainly by comparison with the previous centuries, in particular with the 19th century. O u t of forgotten books and manuscripts, out of the prejudices of the intellectual leaders of a Jewish world which had submitted itself to the rationalism of Christian (Protestant Christian) spirituality arose a new interest in the mystical dimension of Judaism which now, at the turn of this century, even has to defend itself against the reproach of wanting to put mysticism at the very core of Judaism and, as far as academia is concerned, research on Jewish mysticism at the very core of Jewish Studies. To be sure, this lyric description of the rise of the study of Jewish mysticism out of the intellectual ashes of the 19th century is part of the success story of the discipline and its founder Gershom Scholem, the foil against which his light shines all the brighter. In reaction to this, more recent studies want to prove that the 19th century wasn't as rationalistically dry and anti-mystical as Scholem wants us to believe, that Graetz, Bloch, Jellinek and others should be taken much more

seriously also as scholars of Jewish mysticism and not just be ridiculed. But still, as honorable as such attempts to do justice to the scholars of the 19th century are, nothing about their research can compare with the explosion of systematical, planned, and comprehensive research undertaken in the 20th century and accomplished to a large degree by the founder himself (it is even hard to avoid the impression that the resuscitation of the scholars of the 19th century is not as innocent as it might appear but in fact part of the rebellion against the towering figure of the founding father of the discipline himself). I The history of research on Jewish mysticism in the 20th century is mainly the life-history of Gershom Scholem, of his success and failure, and therefore it shouldn't come as a surprise that I will devote a major part of my deliberations to him.1 When the young Gerhard decided, out of a spirit of rebellion against his parents and the assimilationist world of German Jewry at the beginning of the 20th century, to turn to Kabbalah as the major object of his personal and scholarly interest—in his early autobiography From ‫־‬Berlin to Jerusalem he says explicitly that between 1915 and 1918 he filled many notebooks with excerpts, translations and reflections on the Kabbalah—he started a process the consequences of which were at the time less than clear to him. What he knew at this early stage (he was in his late teens) was that Jewish Studies (which, by the way, he calls in his German writings mostly "Judaistik") had beaten Mathematics, his other and earlier love affair; but within the realm of Jewish Studies he believed Kabbalah would be only a starter, to be succeeded by other areas, in particular by the literature, function and, as he calls it, metaphysics of lament in Hebrew literature. That the preoccupation with Kabbalah was soon to become his lifework which even earned him a living, he couldn't know; when he finally left Germany in 1923 after he had completed his Ph.D. thesis on the Book Bahirix the University of Munich, he still expected to eke out an existence by teaching Mathematics in high schools. What brought Scholem to choose Kabbalah as the object of his research has long been the subject of scholarly debate, especially since his death in 1982. It is true, as Joseph Dan writes that "his road toward the study of kabbalah began with the repudiation of German nationalism and of Jewish assimilationism," that he was "first and foremost a Jewish nationalist," 2 and that his interest in the Hebrew language, in Jewish history, in the study of Talmud and Midrash, and then in Kabbalah (in this order!) is to be seen against the background of his Zionism. It is equally true that he didn't choose Jewish mysticism because he 1

2

What follows is neither an exhaustive evaluation of Scholem's contribution nor, much less, a comprehensive description of the history of Kabbalah scholarship in the 20 lh century. Rather, it is the more modest and, admittedly, at the same time ambitious attempt to highlight some major lines of development and to focus on some problems being discussed at present. I had to leave out many important areas of research and to neglect much progress that has been made in particular fields in the last decades of this century. Dan, J. 1987. Gershom Scholem and the Mystical Dimension ofJewish History. New York and London: New York University Press, 8 ff.

was interested in mysticism in general and wanted to explain Jewish mysticism in the broader framework of mysticism as an encompassing religious phenomenon. But can we simply and categorically conclude from this, as Dan does, that "Scholem did not become a scholar of the kabbalah because he was a kabbalist or a mystic," 3 that the major force behind his interest in Kabbalah was his "outrage at the treatment that the kabbalah had received from previous generations of scholars who had dealt with it"?4 Again, the latter part of Dan's argument is certainly correct: Scholem clearly wanted to open up a neglected field, and he no doubt took great pleasure and satisfaction from the "pioneering adventure" of discovering an unknown continent. 5 However, the former part is less obvious, to say the least. Of course, Scholem wasn't a Kabbalist or a mystic in the sense that he, in the exuberance and ardor of his youth, yearned for mystical experience and therefore became interested in Kabbalah. This is too simplistic an approach to the dichotomy of mystic versus scholar of Jewish mysticism. If one reads From Berlin to Jerusalem carefully, I am not so sure that one acquires, as Dan maintains, just "an impressive amount of detailed information, but not a glimpse of the soul of its author, and almost no answer to the basic questionmarks surrounding his early life."6 When I read the book for the first time I was struck by the continuous emphasis, running as a leitmotif through the whole book, on his quest for the hidden and secret life of Judaism. What Scholem was after, from the very beginning, was Judaism as a living force, something which had been buried much too long under the debris of centuries past. It is because of this ardent quest for what keeps Judaism alive that he turned to the Hebrew language, to Jewish history, to the Talmud, to Kabbalah and, indeed, to Zionism, not the other way around. It was in the Kabbalah that he finally discovered the bubbling source of Judaism's vitality, certainly not the only source but one which had been neglected or rather deliberately suppressed and which needed to be uncovered. To be true, Scholem was first and foremost a historian and, as he himself often put it, a philologist of the Kabbalah (he saw a deep relationship between history and philology) but his notion of a historian and historical research is far more complex than a simple juxtaposition of historian of Jewish mysticism versus mystic may suggest. We have known this ever since 1979 when David Biale first published Scholem's famous letter to Salman Schocken, written in October 1937.7 In this letter, which he gave the title "A Candid Word about the True Motives of my Kabbalistic Studies," he explains in detail what brought him to the Kabbalah and what he hoped to find in it. It opens with the clear statement: In no way did I become a 'Kabbalist' inadvertendy. I knew what I was doing—only it seems to me now that I imagined my undertaking to be much too easy. When I was about to put on the hat of the philologist and withdrew ‫נ‬ 4 5 6 7

ibid., 9. Ibid. Ibid., 10. Ibid., 5. Biale, D. 1979. Gershom Scholem. Kabbalah and Counter-History. Cambridge, Mass., and London: Harvard University Press, 215 f., English translation, 31 f.

from mathematics and epistemology into a much more dubious field, I had scarcely any knowledge of my subject, but I was full of 'insights'.

These sentences describe precisely his shift from mathematics and epistemology to Kabbalah, and the tools he takes with him to enter the field of Kabbalah are those of the philologist-historian. However, Biale's translation "when I was about to put on the hat of the philologian" conceals the irony behind this statement. The German original reads: "Als ich mich daran machte, den Schafpelz des Philologen anzuziehen," "when I was about to put on the sheep's clothing of the philologist," i.e., Scholem masquerades as the wolf in sheep's clothing, the fellow philologist among the peaceful and honest philologists. But in reality he conceals under his sheep's clothing a very different purpose, something which goes far beyond what the tools of philology and historical research can achieve. He pretends to be a philologist but in reality he is or rather wants much more: he is in search of the "secret life of Judaism," as he explicitly says in the letter, a "higher level" of Judaism beyond the rationalistic atrophy of Jewish philosophy, and he "sensed such a higher level in the Kabbalah. [...] It seemed to me that here, beyond the perceptions of my generation, existed a realm of associations which had to touch our own most human experiences." The wolf in sheep's clothing is the mystic masquerading as a philologist in order to find the mystical truth behind the "misty wall of history." T o be sure, there is only one way through the "misty wall of history" to this hidden truth, to the "mountain, the corpus of things" (in German: "das Korpus der Dinge"), namely "historical criticism and critical history." Only the "legitimate discipline of the commentary" and the "odd mirror of philological criticism" can make visible the "mystical totality of truth, whose existence disappears particularly when it is projected into historical time." In other words, the mystical truth disappears when projected into history and still, there is no other way to approach it. But the philologist, or rather the philologist-mystic, doesn't rely only on himself and on his philological tools; these tools alone would never lead him to the desired mountain, as the last sentence of the letter makes clear: Today, as at the very beginning, my work lives in this paradox, in the hope of a true communication from the mountain, of that most invisible, smallest fluctuation of history which causes truth to break forth from the illusions of "development."

As it becomes evident now, the "mountain" is Mount Sinai, the mount of the divine revelation, and it is the "communication from this mountain" (in German: "das richtige Angesprochenwerden aus dem Berge") which, if only for a brief moment, reveals truth. The historian depends on the "communication," although he has no other way to approach the mountain but through historical research. Both the tools of the philologist-historian and the revelation from the mountain accomplish the desired goal, the mystical truth, neither the mystic alone nor the historian alone; the modern mystic is the historian, who has done his homework and to whom is revealed "the smallest fluctuation of history which causes truth to break forth from the illusions of 'development'."

Scholem claims in the last sentence of his letter to Schocken that the paradoxical relationship between the mystic and the historian of mysticism guided his work "today," i.e., 1937, "as at the very beginning," i.e., around 1915/1916. That this is not the retrospective illusion of the more mature Scholem of 1937 but refers back to concrete historical circumstances can be proven now from a text which I found in the Scholem archive in the Jewish National and University Library in Jerusalem. This text is preserved in two almost identical versions, one as the introduction to a longer and unpublished essay entitled "Reflections on the meaning and appearance of the Kabbalah" ("Betrachtungen über den Sinn und die Erscheinung der Kabbala"), and the other under the title " O n the Kabbalah viewed (from) beyond" ("Über die Kabbala, jenseits betrachtet"); both are dated to "1921" and "Munich 1921" respectively. I have published and analyzed this hitherto unknown text in an article in the last issue of Jewish Studies Quarterly, and I will not go into detail here. 8 What most strikes the reader is that the new text is to a large degree identical with the letter to Schocken (however with some significant differences which I point out in the article), i.e., that already during his Munich period when he was writing his dissertation on the Book Bahir Scholem expressed ideas very close to those in his private letter to Schocken or, to put it differently, that the young Scholem at the age of 24 was already deeply concerned about the relationship between the mystic and the historian, between mystical and historical truth. The Ph.D. thesis on the Bahir is a prime example of the kind of philological analysis he has in mind in his letter to Schocken and in the new text of 1921; it consists, as Dan correctly observes, "of notes and references" and reveals very little "of the mystical gnostic spirit of the Bahir'"'— and yet, it was precisely at this time that he wrote his "Reflections," showing the "empathy and connectedness," 10 which we miss in his dissertation and his early writings. Hence we can now prove that Scholem did "hide his innermost empathy with mysticism in these early studies" as Dan hesitantly suspects (which in my opinion excludes the alternative, also suggested by Dan, that he developed it somewhat later in his scholarly career): from the very beginning of his preoccupation with Kabbalah Scholem was aware of the tension between mysticism and research on mysticism; as a matter of fact this tension determined most of his life, albeit most probably to a diminishing degree, but he was very reluctant to make this awareness public. As his further deliberations show, he even toyed with this tension and liked playing the role of the wolf in the sheep's clothing, of the philologist among philologists. The only published version of some of the ideas expressed in his "Reflections" from 1921 and his letter to Schocken from 1937 is the first sentence of his "Ten Unhistorical Aphorisms on Kabbalah" ("Zehn unhistorische Sätze über Kabbala"), published in 1958 in the Festschrift

8

9

10

See Schäfer, P. 1998. " 'Die Philologie der Kabbala ist nur eine Projektion auf eine Fläche': Gershom Scholem über die wahren Absichten seines Kabbalastudiums.‫״‬yjj2 5, 1-25. Dan 1987: 11.

Ibid.

for Daniel Brody.11 This is a remote echo of the earlier versions, which resolves the original tension between the mysdc and the historian in favor of a clear division of labor, in which the Professor of Jewish mysticism seems to have overcome the mystic. And even this pale version he didn't want to become widely known. In an unpublished letter of March 1960 to his former student Joseph Weiss he wrote: It was with that pleasurable satisfaction felt by readers of murder mysteries that I read your remarks on my article in the Festschrift for Brody, which was published exacdy a year ago in Zurich. I said then (to myself) with good reason that only someone like yourself could understand its significance, all the more so because at the time you went on to comment on my relationship to this world with which I preoccupy myself: this time I have done something that people would not have expected of me, and written things that I should not have written, and, given that I have written them, should not have published (the reason for publishing them was that I was asked to contribute something that I never intended under normal circumstances to publish!!). But seeing that this has now happened, I also wanted to have the things published, but just didn't want to mention it to anyone or to give anyone offprints ..., and wanted to wait and see who among my pack of Kabbalists would discover it for themselves! It wasn't meant to be malicious, but rather to test for thoroughness and for the sixth sense (the bibliographical) as well, which masters of the mystery need to possess. I've made myself, albeit not in the way you mentioned back then, into one of those figures who hide themselves in their own well-known paintings ...12

This last sentence refers to an article published by Weiss in 1947 on the occasion of Scholem's 50th birthday, in which Weiss speaks of Scholem's esoteric trick of hiding himself in his writings like the medieval painters who smuggled themselves into the features of one of the figures in their paintings: "With voluminous volumes of texts and philological details he publicly reduces the figure of the metaphysic to that of the scholar. [...] The secret metaphysic dresses himself as the exact scientist. Scholarship is Scholem's incognito. Thus nobody can really know what Scholem wanted to find in the Kabbalah." 13 Indeed, the master of masquerade revealed to the public only the toned down version of his innermost thoughts, and it is only this version which he lets his student Weiss discover. The letter to Schocken he made public only when he was afraid of having been completely misunderstood by the young David Biale in his dissertation Gershom Scholem. Kabbalah and Counter-History, published in 1979. The much earlier "Reflections" were never published by him.

11

12

Scholem, G. 1958. "Zehn unhistorische Sätze über Kabbala." In Geist und Werk. Aus der Werkstatt der Autoren des Rhein-Verlages spm 75. Geburtstag von Dr. Daniel Brody. Zürich: Rhein-Verlag, 209-215. See Schäfer 1998: 22f. Scholem, G. 1994. Briefe I: 1914-1947. Ed. I. Shedletzky. Munich: Beck, 459.

II Let me now summarize briefly the main stages in Scholem's career as a historian of Jewish mysticism before I turn to his critics. Already in July 1925, when he was still a librarian at the Jewish National Library, hoping to be appointed lecturer in the newly founded Institute for Jewish Studies at the newly founded Hebrew University (as a matter of fact the Institute was opened before the ceremonial opening of the university), he wrote his later-to-become-famous letter to Haim Nahman Bialik, in which he outlined in meticulous detail his future research program in Jewish mysticism.14 We know now that he did not complete most of this quite optimistic program and that some very important topics of his later research had yet to emerge, but two features of the letter are worth mentioning. First, his predominant interest in the antiquity of the Kabbalah, in its early origin, and second, his awareness of the neglected state of the field and the emphasis he puts on the necessary Vorarbeiten (groundwork) before any serious historical work can be done. Both aspects would continue to be part and parcel of his future scholarly life. As to the latter, the Vorarbeiten, he knew very well that only a survey of all the relevant Kabbalisric manuscripts scattered in the libraries of Europe and America, the subsequent analysis and, if possible, publication of these manuscripts, i.e., that only much arduous and painstaking work could pave the way toward a comprehensive description of the historical development of Jewish mysticism throughout the centuries. The former, the predominant interest in the antiquity of the Kabbalah, guided him for many years. His inaugural lecture at the Institute for Jewish Studies, delivered in November 1925, a few months after his letter to Bialik, was dedicated to the quesdon "Was R. Mose de Leon the author of the Zohar?"15 and tried to prove, in opposition to his great antipode Graetz, that he indeed was not. (According to Graetz the Zohar was nothing but a big forgery, written completely at the end of the 13th century by Mose de Leon, who claimed that it was the work of the Tanna R. Simeon b. Yohai). The Zohar, Scholem argues, is composed of many layers which reach back into late antiquity and of which Mose de Leon is only the last link in the chain. The reasons for this anti-Graetz are obvious: Graetz had despised the Kabbalah because of his misguided rationalism; if his rationalism proved to be wrong, then the results of his research had to be wrong, too. It took Scholem more than ten years to revise his own prejudices and to acknowledge that Graetz was right, despite his questionable premises, and that Mose de Leon was indeed the author of the Zohar. This change of mind does not just reflect the end of a minor and long forgotten scholarly debate (as a matter of fact the question of the authorship of the 14

15

Published for the first time on December 1967 in Ha-Po'et ha-T^a'ir—Shevu'on Mißeget Po'a/e Eret^-Yisra'el 39 (11), 18-19; German transladon in Scholem, G. 1997. Judaica 6: Die Wissenschaft vom Judentum, ed., transi, from the Hebrew, and provided with an afterword by P. Schäfer, in cooperation with G. Necker and U. Hirschfelder. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 55-67. Many of the desiderata mentioned in this letter have been dealt with in the meantime, less by Scholem himself but rather by other scholars; some have become a sub-discipline of their own, others are still open. See in more detail Scholem 1997: 86-90. Published in Madda'ei ha-Yahadut 1, 1925/26, 16-29 (Hebr.).

Zohar was reopened quite recently with much fervor by Yehuda Liebes)16 but signals a breakthrough on the part of Scholem to the truly historical dimension of Jewish mysticism. In the period between 1921 and 1936 Scholem concentrated on the Vorarbeiten of searching for and analyzing the manuscripts, publishing many learned articles in Hebrew journals (in particular on the two Cohen brothers, the outstanding representatives of the Castilian Kabbalah in the second half of the 13th century); now he turned to the work of summarizing the results of these detailed studies and of putting them in a broader historical context. He clearly followed the maxim, directed in 1944 against his own colleagues in Jerusalem in his famous essay Mitokh hirhurim 'al hokhmat Yisra'el ("Reflections upon the Wissenschaft des Judentums"): 17 "Woe betide a scholarship, which renounces summarizing its results, but a sevenfold woe betide a scholarship, which summarizes its results before having analyzed, clarified, and squeezed out all the details." N o doubt, Scholem had done his homework before he started summarizing his results and defining the general historical and cultural meaning of the Kabbalah. This new period of Scholem's scholarly development was inaugurated by a veritable thunderbolt: his 1936 essay on the Sabbatian movement, Mtt^wah haba'ah ba-'averah,18 later published in English under the title "Redemption through Sin." 19 This revolutionary essay not only threw new light on the deeply mystical and religious sources of this doomed movement, it placed Sabbatianism for the first time in the broader historical context of the expulsion from Spain in 1492 and the Lurianic Kabbalah on the one hand, and the Haskalah and Jewish emancipation of the late 18lh and the early 19th centuries on the other. As J. Dan puts it: "Suddenly scholars and readers were brought to the realization that the symbolism of the kabbalah was not just a curious, mildly interesting, marginal aspect of Jewish culture but was a source that could supply many answers to basic, perplexing problems of Jewish history." 20 Immediately after the publication of this essay Scholem started to write a series of lectures to be delivered in 1938 at the Jewish Institute of Religion in New York, which was to become his most famous and influential book Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism, first published in English in 1941 and translated into many languages. This was the first attempt to describe the historical development not only of the Kabbalah in the more narrow sense of the word but, as the tide suggests, of Jewish mysticism in general. The book starts with a general outline of Jewish mysticism (the first chapter is called "General Characteristics of Jewish Mysticism"), a topic to which he never returned, and then unfolds its subject in chronological order: from "Merkabah Mysticism and Jewish Gnosticism" 16

17

18 19

20

Liebes, Y. 1993. Studies in the Zohar. Albany, N.Y: State University of New York Press, 85-138, 194-227. Published for the first time in Luah ha-Aretz Tel Aviv 1944, 94-112; easily available in Scholem, G. 1975. Devarim he-Go, ed. A. Shapira, vol. 2, Tel Aviv: Am Oved, 385-403; German transladon in Scholem 1997: 9 - 5 2 (quotadon 51). Kennet 2, 1936/37, 347-92. In Scholem, G. 1971. The Messianic idea in Judaism and Other Essays on Jewish Spirituality. New York: Schocken, 78-141. Dan 1987: 21.

through "Hasidism in Mediaeval Germany," "Abraham Abulafia and the Doctrine of Prophetic Kabbalism," "The Zohar" (in two long chapters on the book and its author, and on the theosophical doctrine), "Isaac Luria and his School," "Sabbatianism and Mystical Heresy" up to "Hasidism: the Latest Phase." In the Preface to the first edition Scholem apdy describes the interplay between the thorough and painstaking philological analysis of sources and the slowly emerging synthesis of a general picture of Jewish mysticism: It was a beginning in more than one sense, for the task which confronted me necessitated a vast amount of spade-work in a field strewn with ruins and by no means ripe as yet for the constructive labours of the builder of a system. Both as to historical fact and philological analysis there was pioneer work to be done, often of the most primitive and elementary kind. Rapid bird's-eye syntheses and elaborate speculations on shaky premises had to give way to the more modest work of laying the secure foundations of valid generalization. Where others had either disdained close acquaintance with the sources of what they frequendy rejected and condemned, or erected some lofty edifice of speculation, I found myself constrained by circumstances and by inclination to perform the humble but necessary task of clearing the ground of much scattered debris and laying bare the outlines of a great and significant chapter in the history of Jewish religion. [...] As the innumerable and often laborious investigations of detailed points neared completion, the outlines became less blurred, and presently there emerged from the confusing welter of facts and fiction a picture, more or less definite though not at all points complete, of the development of Jewish mysticism, its inner significance, its problems and its meaning for the history of Judaism in general. 21

As one immediately notices from the table of contents of Major Trends, there are many gaps in the chronological sequence of the unfolding of Jewish mysticism throughout the centuries. In particular, the beginnings of the Kabbalah in the 12th and 13th centuries in the geographical area of Southern France and Spain are conspicuously absent. Scholem jumps, as it were, from Merkavah mysticism, which he locates in Palestine in the first centuries of the Christian era, to the Ashkenazi Hasidim, who flourished from about 1150 to 1250 in Germany, and to the Zohar in late 13 ,h -century Castile, the highlight of what he calls the theosophical Kabbalah, stopping off in the middle to put in a chapter on Abraham Abulafia and his prophetic or ecstatic Kabbalah. However, he was fully aware of this gap. In 1948 he published his first summary in Hebrew on the early Kabbalah, Reshit ha-Qabbalah (Jerusalem 1948), to be followed in 1962 by a completely revised and more than doubled version in German, Ursprung und Anfänge derKabbala (Berlin 1962): it was this book—and it was probably no coincidence that he wrote it in German—which brought to fruition what his Munich dissertation of 1923 on the Bahir so hopefully and boldly had begun. Five years before this, in 1957, he had published his definite work on Sabbatai Zevi, which completed his earlier essay "Redemption through Sin" and the respective chapter in

21

Quotation from the 1995 reprint, New York: Schocken, XXV.

Major Trends·. Shabbetai T%vi weha-tenu'ah ha-shabbeta'it bimei hayyaw (translated into English only in 1973 and into German in 1992).22 Ursprung und Anfänge der Kabbala was the last major monograph by Scholem to appear. During the last twenty years of his life, from 1962 until his death, he published many articles and collections of articles, among them a series of lectures on Merkavab mysticism he had given at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America in New York (under the title Jewish Gnosticism, Merkabah Mysticism, and Talmudic Tradition, first published in 1960, and in a second and enlarged edition in 1965). Most influential among a wider public have been the revised editions of many of his Eranos lectures in collections like Zur Kabbalah und ihrer Symbolik (Zurich 1960; On the Kabbalah and its Symbolism, New York 1965) and Judaica (the first four volumes). He started to participate in the annual meetings of the Eranos society in Ascona, which was deeply inspired by the Jungian school of psychology, as early as 1949 and kept faith with them until 1979, i.e., until shortly before his death. He was clearly no follower of Jung but seemed to have found in the Eranos conferences a worthwhile audience for disseminating his ideas on Jewish mysticism outside the inner circle of specialists in Israel and the United States. Another important summary and revision of the major characteristics and the historical development of the Kabbalah are his articles in the Encyclopaedia Judaica (1972), collected for easy reference in the volume Kabbalah (Jerusalem 1974). Last but not least, the last period in his scholarly life bore fruits like the memories of his youth Von Berlin nach Jerusalem (Frankfurt a.M. 1977) and the history of his friendship with Walter Benjamin. 23 Ill The picture of Jewish mysticism that Scholem drew during the greater part of this century is still admired today (although it is striking that a "Scholem school of Kabbalah" in the proper sense of the word doesn't exist and probably never did exist), but since his death in 1982 it has been contested by a younger generation of scholars, most notably at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem which he dominated for so many years. This is, of course, a most natural process, which Scholem would have been the last person to disapprove of, but it has some very unfortunate and even tragic implications, which seem to plumb the depths of the human soul and which psychoanalysts might want to call the desire for patricide. In addition to the many gaps which are now being filled in the course of continuing research and to the discussion on and correction of many details in the huge edifice, not of speculation but of solid foundations which he erected, there are three fundamental conclusions or presuppositions (depending

22

23

Scholem, G. 1973. Sabbatai Sevi. The Mystical Messiah 1626-1676. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press; Scholem, G. 1992. Sabbatai Zwi. Der mystische Messias. Frankfurt a.M.: Jüdischer Verlag. Scholem, G. 1975. Walter Benjamin—die Geschichte einer Freundschaft. Frankfun a.M.: Suhrkamp; Scholem, G. 1980. Walter Benjamin/Gershom Scholem. Briefwechsel 1933-1940. Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp. I do not agree with J. Dan's apodicdc judgment that subjects like Walter Benjamin, Jewish-German relations, and the Wissenschaft des Judentums movement "were never very important to Scholem" (Dan 1987: 31).

on the point of view) that have come under fierce attack in the post-Scholem era: his insistence on the Gnosis as a dynamic force in Jewish history (from Merkavah mysticism to the Bahir and the Castilian version of the Kabbalah), his assessment of the expulsion of the Jews from Spain as a major factor in reshaping the Kabbalah in the 16th century (in particular with regard to Messianic implications), and, above all, the emphasis he put on what he called the theosophical strand of the Kabbalah as opposed to the prophetic or ecstatic Kabbalah, of which Abraham Abulafia is the most prominent representative. I will deal only with the last and, in my opinion, most influential argument against Scholem's view of the Kabbalah. Among the most fervent critics of Scholem and his definition of Jewish mysticism is Moshe Idel of the Hebrew University (by the way, not a direct student of Scholem). In the introduction to his well-known book Kabbalah: New Perspectives24 and, in a briefly and polemically summarized form, in a lecture delivered at the Berlin conference celebrating the 50lh anniversary of Scholem's Major Trends,25 he has established a phenomenology of Jewish mysticism, which can be reduced to a few key terms. I will summarize and, for the sake of convenience, designate them, as type (a) and type (b): (a) is mythic or mythocentric, symbolic, theocentric, theosophical (this is the most important term of the a-type), seftrotic (i.e., designing the system of the 10 Sefirot, the ten dynamic potencies within God), theurgic (i.e., influencing the inner life of God by means of prayer and by performing the mit^wot), nomian (i.e., centered on the Halakhah), canonical, exoterically open to all Jews, less mystical, not interested in the union with God. (b) is anthropocentric, ecstatic (the most important term of the b-type), esoteric, sublime, anomian, individualistic, intended to induce paranormal experiences, mystical par excellence, aiming at the union with God. Here we have the two strands of mysticism described also by Scholem but expressed in an extreme and radically opposed way. Moreover, Scholem is explicitly accused of not only emphasizing the a-type and neglecting the b-type of Jewish mysticism but of even deliberately suppressing the b-type. It is Idel himself, who in using his phenomenological method has finally done justice to the b-type, the true form of Jewish mysticism, so he argues. Regarding the historical development of Kabbalah, Idel's categorization comes to the following conclusion: The a-type manifests itself in the early theosophical and theurgic mysticism of Rabbinic Judaism, in the Kabbalah in 12th century Provence, and, above all, in what Scholem calls mainstream Kabbalah, the Zohar in Spain (late 13th century), as well as in Isaak Luria's school in Safed in the 16th century. The b-type starts with Merkavah mysticism of the Hekhalot literature, continues with the Ashkenazi Hasidim, i.e., the German pietists of the 12th and 13th centuries, finds its climax in the prophetical Kabbalah of Abraham Abulafia 24 25

New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1988. Idel, M. 1993. "The Contribution of Abraham Abulafia's Kabbalah to the Understanding of Jewish Mysticism." In Gershom Scholem's Major Trends in ]emsh Mysticism: SO Yean After. Ed. P. Schäfer and J. Dan. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 117-143.

(1240-1291), continues with the Safed branch as well as with Sabbatianism in the 17,h century and with Eastern European Hasidism in the 18th and 19,h centuries, and has its last ramifications in mystical movements in contemporary Israel and America. I shall leave out other classifications resulting from this rather stereotype confrontation of the a- and b‫־‬types, except for one, which, I believe, is highly significant for Idel's approach and which has implications, too, for the modern study of Jewish mysticism. Finally, Idel argues, even those who deal with Jewish mysticism (as well as the methodological tools they use) can be classified according to two categories: first, the modern, "secular" academics mainly of the Scholem school, who, with their historical-philosophical methods, are primarily or exclusively occupied with the a-type of Jewish mysticism, and second, contemporary orthodox Jews, who prefer the b-type and are surprisingly open to (Idel's) phenomenological approach. Moreover, Idel continues, Scholem's emphasis on the a-type unfortunately has led some scholars to conclude that Jewish mysticism is devoid of the essence of mysticism, that it shouldn't even be called mysticism at all. This negation of the core of mysticism (which, of course, is the unio mystica) in Jewish mysticism, Idel argues, assumes with Christian scholars like Carl G. Jung (the famous psychoanalyst and renegade pupil of Freud) and Robert C. Zaehner (a well-known historian of religion of Scholem's generation) an overtly anti-Jewish bias. I cannot discuss here possible anti-Jewish implications in the works of Jung or of Zaehner (although I am convinced that Jung's message clearly has andJewish elements), but there can be no doubt that Jung and in particular Zaehner (who explicitly quotes Scholem) used Scholem to deny Jewish mysticism the essence of mysticism, the mystical union of man with God. The following quotation from Zaehner is indeed revealing: If mysticism is the key to religion, then we may as well exclude the Jews entirely from our inquiry: for Jewish mysticism, as Professor Scholem has so admirably portrayed it, [...] would not appear to be mysticism at all. Visionary experience is not mystical experience: for mysticism means, if it means anything, the realization of a union or a unity with or in something that is enormously, if not infinitely, greater than the empirical self. With the Yahweh of the Old Testament, no such union is possible. [...] [I]t is therefore in the very nature of the case that Jewish 'mysticism' should at most aspire to communion with God, never to union. 26

This is a blundy anti-Jewish statement, but it is not very fair, to say the least, to hold Scholem responsible for it. Neither does Scholem refer to the "Yahweh of the Old Testament," nor does he argue that the mystical union is the very essence of any kind of mysticism (this is Zaehner's prejudice), nor does he maintain that there is no mystical union at all in Jewish mysticism. All he says in Major Trends is that the mystical union is a useless parameter for measuring mysticism, Jewish or non-Jewish (and with this argument he comes close to Bernard 26

Zaehner, R. C. 1958. At Sundry Times. London: Faber and Faber, 171, as quoted by Idel 1988: 134.

McGinn, the eminent modern scholar of Christian mysticism), that "it would be a mistake to assume that the whole of what we call mysticism is identical with that personal experience which is realized in the state of ecstasy or ecstatic meditation. Mysticism, as an historical phenomenon, comprises much more than this experience, which lies at its root." 27 Idel tries to prove in most of his works that the striving for mystical union is a predominant characteristic of Jewish mysticism, that the b-type of his classification is the predominant type of Jewish mysticism, that indeed Jewish mysticism may be called mysticism like any other mysticism, in particular Christian mysticism. This, I am afraid, is an apologetic approach which does justice neither to Scholem nor to Jewish mysticism. It would be easy to ridicule the schematic classification of Idel's a- and b-types. If they are of any use, then it is only to show that there is an ongoing dichotomy within Jewish mysticism of related as well as contrasting and even conflicting elements. This dichotomy between theosophical and ecstatic, community-oriented and individualistic, theocentric and anthropocentric, nomian and anomian, exoteric and esoteric etc., this dichotomy and tension is what characterizes Jewish mysticism. Discussing to what degree the one is more mystical and the other less so is pointless and of no help in illuminating one of the most fascinating and fruitful trends of the Jewish religion. And it is of not much help either to divide up scholars into those who are in danger of denying Jewish mysticism its mystical core (in his article Idel even reveals the names: Joseph Dan, Isaiah Tishby, R. J. Zwi Werblowsky, and Peter Schäfer)—and who consequently provide Christian scholars with their antiJewish arguments—and those, who follow Moshe Idel in his quest for the living, ecstatic experience of Jewish mysticism. At least Scholem, the scholar and the person (as I have argued at the beginning), is much more complex than Idel's schematic black-and-white picture wants us to believe. IV As we approach the end of this century, the overlord dominating the field of Jewish mysticism for most of it, has died, and the rebels against this towering father figure are also growing older. It is only natural that their approach and their methodological presuppositions should now come under closer scrutiny. N o doubt, they have added immensely to Scholem's picture of the development of Jewish mysticism, which he himself called, in his characteristic mixture of modesty and self-confidence, "more or less definite though not at all points complete." 28 They have made it much more complete, filling in many more details, and correcting not a few of his mistakes or premature conclusions. But they followed him also in his self-confidence, in what he expressed so inimitably in his Preface to Major Trends·. "I owe a debt of gratitude to those among my predecessors in this field whose footsteps I have followed, but honesty compels

27 28

Scholem 1995: 5. Ibid., XXV.

me to add that on most points my later views have very little in common with their own." 29 Let me briefly turn to the most recent attack or rather sweeping blow against the two most prominent representatives of the new Jerusalem school, Moshe Idel and Yehuda Liebes, by a young scholar called Gil Anidjar, until now completely unknown in the field of Kabbalah Studies. His article, published in Jewish Social Studies,30 bears a tide which is hard to digest: "Jewish Mysticism Alterable and Unalterable: On OrienAng Kabbalah Studies and the 'Zohar of Christian Spain'." In printing "Orient" in the word "Orienting" in italics the author clearly indicates the main direction of his argument: he wants to prove that not only Scholem's research but also that of his successors, who claim to be so independent of him, is dictated by their predilection for myth, for all things Greek, and, since there is a direct line from myth and Greek culture to Christianity, for the Christian context of Kabbalah, in particular with regard to the Zohar. This, he argues, is nothing but "Jewish Orientalism," "a specific attempt to (re)10cate Jewish mysticism vis-à-vis the Orient and the Oriental and its alleged binary opposite: Greek and Christian thought and culture." 51 Moreover, since the "Orient" is associated with "femininity" and worse, "homosexuality," in orienting Kabbalah research toward the Christian West, Jewish Orientalism "participates in the constitution of sexual boundaries." 32 This is, as I said, a sweeping blow, and the rather lengthy article is as hard to digest as the tide already suggests. The author, inspired by Edward Said's Orientalism and modern cultural studies, has taken on an ambitious project to which he clearly doesn't stand up. Moshe Idel has deemed Anidjar worthy of a long rejoinder with the no less complicated tide "Orienting, Orientalizing or Disorienting the Study of Kabbalah: 'An Almost Absolutely Unique' Case of Occidentalism" 33 —the reader doesn't know what is more remarkable, the very fact of the rejoinder or its forced ironical tone. Of course, Idel doesn't find it difficult to reject Anidjar, to point to Anidjar's fashionable biases, and to show in minute detail and with many quotations from his own work that Anidjar is wrong, that he has misunderstood or even deliberately misquoted him (or deliberately suppressed quotations which show the opposite of what he wanted to argue); in particular he proves that, contrary to Anidjar's main argument, he and his colleagues have adduced wealthy evidence of Islamic and Arabic influence on the Kabbalah. All this or most of this may be correct, but still there remain two arguments raised by Anidjar which do throw a light on the present state of Kabbalah Studies and which probably need more serious consideration than that suggested so far by Idel. The first is the triad of the three basic concepts of "symbol," "myth," and "mysticism," to which Anidjar devotes a great part of his article, arguing that they are the major categories which dominate the research of Scholem as well as 29 30 31 32 33

Ibid. N.S. 3 , 1 9 9 6 / 9 7 , 8 9 - 1 5 7 . Ibid., 112. Ibid., 122. Kabbalah 2, 1997, 13—47.

of his successors; in other words, that with regard to the underlying concepts there has been no change after Scholem and certainly no "Copernican révolution," as Ivan Marcus proclaimed it when reviewing Idel's Kabbalah: New Perspecrives·.** "the basic terms and questions that determine the scholarly endeavor surrounding Kabbalah," Anidjar maintains, "have fundamentally not changed." 35 O r to quote Scholem, who reflects his own viewpoint after his vigorous attack against the Wissenschaft des Judentums in his famous essay written in 1944: Banu limrod we nimt^enu mamshikhim, "We came to rebel and found ourselves as successors." 36 Even Idel concedes that this is an "original proposal," to find out what are the "main categories that organize the scholarly discourse, and criticize them one by one." 37 However, Idel contents himself with demonstrating that he has never argued the centrality of myth and symbol, and, as far as myth is concerned, that he differs from Scholem on crucial points. "Unlike the view attributed to me by Mr. Anidjar," he argues, "I proposed several times to distinguish between mythical versus non-mythical, even anti-mythical forms of Kabbalah." 38 This is exacdy the problem. Whether or not Scholem has "overemphasized the mythical nature of Kabbalism," as Idel maintains, 39 he certainly did not impose on the Kabbalah a clear-cut distinction between "mythical" and "non-mythical," and it is more than doubtful whether he would have regarded such a distinction as progress. More importantly, Idel conspicuously doesn't refer to the question of "mysticism," which is Anidjar's major point in demonstrating that Idel (and Liebes) are much closer to Scholem than they care to admit. For Idel, as we have seen above, the unio mystica is the very essence of mysticism and essential for what he calls the experiential and ecstatic strand of Kabbalah. Scholem is much more subtle: he certainly doesn't disregard the mystical union in Jewish mysticism but he doesn't want to declare it the essence of mysticism, whether Jewish or nonJewish, and generally cautions against overemphasizing the ecstatic experience. There is clearly a certain ambiguity in Scholem's statements on the mystical union, but this ambiguity is due to the complexity of the Kabbalah, as Scholem sees it, and not to the lack of clarity in his thinking. The only "progress" made by Idel is again that he resolves this ambiguity in favor of his distinction between two clear-cut strands, the theosophical versus the ecstatic strand, his aand b-type; the category remains the same, as does the category of myth (and probably also of symbol). What is needed, however, is a discussion about the categories, which hasn't even started, rather than the questionable " p r o o f ' that they apply only to parts of the Kabbalah. The second question raised by Anijar, but not even addressed by Idel, is that of the historical context of the Kabbalah, and I believe that this is the question which has to be taken up much more seriously in future research. It is important 34 35 36 37 38 39

Speculum βΊ, 1992, 160. Anidjar 1996/97: 99. Scholem 1975: 402; Scholem 1997: 49. Idel 1997: 32. Ibid., 36. Ibid., 34.

but not enough, as Idel does, to follow the winding paths of literary influences and dependencies, to demonstrate that there are indeed many Islamic and Arabic influences on the Kabbalah on the literary level. The historical question which Anidjar raises is that of the context in which the Kabbalistic systems were developed. Whether this context is Christian or Muslim or Christian and Muslim, this depends on the particular circumstances of the particular Kabbalistic system and cannot be reduced to literary influences (by the way, Anidjar does have interesting things to say about the category of "influence," which are unfortunately ignored by Idel). As far as the Zohar is concerned, Anidjar has clearly overshot the mark. His concrete examples for the "Oriental" background are, as Idel righdy demonstrates, as few as they are dubious, and he completely ignores what Yitzhaq Baer has to say in his History of the Jews in Christian Spain about the Christian context (e.g., the social implications and the similarities of the social doctrine of the Zohar to the Franciscan movement). 40 The problem is not so much what kind of background we are talking about but that since Baer there hasn't been much written at all about the historical background and the social milieu out of which the Zohar emerged. The same is true, to conclude with another example, for the Bahir, the first book of the Kabbalah we possess. It appeared at the end of the 12,h century in Southern France, in Provence, in an obviously Christian context—but this context hasn't been explored at all. Scholem took a lot of trouble to prove the Gnostic background in the remote (in terms of space and time) East, indeed the "Orient" (a very good example against Anidjar's "Jewish Orientalism"!), but he never looked at the immediate Christian context of the second half of the 12th century. T o be sure, he did look at the Christian context, but only that of the heretic sects of the Cathari and Albigenses, which received their main ideas again from the gnostic East. This is strange enough, and one might well ask why Scholem ignored the Christian environment of the Provençal Jews, yet one can hardly accuse him of a predilection for the Greek-Western-Christian strand as opposed to the Orient (yes, of course, Anidjar might argue that this "Orient" is Christian and Western and certainly not Islamic, but I am afraid this speaks against his category of "Orient"). In any case, what is at stake is a description as full as possible of the historical circumstances, the background, the environment, in which the Bahir, the Zohar and other important Kabbalistic books and movements originated and grew. Scholem did it so magisterially for the Sabbatian movement in the 17th century and to a much lesser degree for the Lurianic Kabbalah, for the Zohar, for the Ashkenazi Hasidim and for the Bahir—but the companion to his Sabbatai Sem. The Mystical Messiah still remains to be written by his successors. T o have drawn our attention to this important but neglected question of Kabbalah Studies is no minor achievement for our younger colleague.

40

Baer, Y. 1961. A History of the Jews in Christian Spain. Vol. 1, Philadelphia and Jerusalem: The Jewish Publicadon Society, 261 ff.

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ÈhYÈH

ASHÈR

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Ex 3,14 A C C O R D I N G

TO THE

INTERPRETATIONS OF M O S E S M E N D E L S S O H N , FRANZ ROSENZWEIG AND M A R T I N BUBER FRANCESCA ALBERTINI Roma, Italy

Translating Ex 3,14, at first Mendelssohn clashes with a grammatical and linguistical difficulty, which is immanent to that verse. In the first place, the particle ashèr, called locative of origin, introduces a secondary proposition where we generally find the object of the predicate or of the subject of action, or also we find any kind of complement. But in the Bible ashèr often acts as conjunction with an explanatory subordinate sentence. In the second place, and it's the greatest difficulty, èhyèh is the first singular person of verb hâyâh (imperfect here), which is usually translated as "to be." According to Mendelssohn, in the particular case of Ex 3,14 it is possible that we are in front of an archaic and contractive form of verb "to be," which could indicate here an action happening contemporaneously in the past, in the present and in the future. In others words, Mendelssohn observes that, even if the verb "to be" indicates a permanent and definite status of subject, in Ex 3,14 it stresses the dynamism of a subject, dynamism which sets on the same temporal plane both the principal sentence and the secondary one. In the light of these difficulties, it's clear the translation of Ex 3,14 isn't founded on the linguistical and grammatical competencies of the translator at all, but on his particular conception of the Divine Being noticing that an exact translation of Ex 3,14 is in effect impossible. Mendelssohn translates the whole passage with a long periphrasis, rather than appealing to a concise translation as did the previous German experts: Gott sprach zu Mosche: Ich bin das Wesen welches ewig ist. Er sprach nämlieh: So sollst du zu den Kindern Jisraels sprechen: Das ewige Wesen welches sich nennt: Ich bin ewig, hat mich zu euch gesendet.

This long periphrasis can be translated in the following way: God spoke to Moses: I am the Eternal Being. And He said: So you spoke to the children of Israel: The Eternal Being, who names Himself "I am eternal." sent me to you.

Since this moment, in Mendelssohn's translation of Torah we will always find the Tetragrammaton as "Der Ewige." Mendelssohn is the first to introduce this term into the German Judaism of his age to translate the inexpressible Tetragrammaton and later this tradition was able to impose itself on the German Jewish world in spite of numerous experts' resistance.

With regard to his original translation, Mendelssohn clears up his own point of view in the wide Biur dedicated to Ex 3,14, where the philosopher explains the reasons which led him to translate in that particular way èhjèh ashèr èhjèh:1 "I am who I am." According to Midrash (Berakot 9b), the Saint (can He always be blessed) said to Moses: Tell them, I am who I was and now I am the same and I will be the same in the future [and furthermore our rabbis of venerable memory said: I will be with them in this sufferance as well as I am with them in the slavery under others reigns. They wanted to tell that], past and future are in the present of Creator, seeing that there are no changed and no fixed time for Him (Jb 10,17) and no one of His days is never spent. For Him all times are called with the same name and with an only expression which includes past, present and future.

As a consequence, according to Mendelssohn Der Ewige or Ewiges Wesen points out the necessity of God's existence and points out also His never-ending and incessant Providence. Using this name it's as if God said: I am with men's children to be benign and merciful to whom I will be mercifui. N o w say to Israel I was, I am, I will be.... and I will be with them every time they will come crying to me.

In this part of his commentary relative to Ex 3,14, Mendelssohn seems to bring the definition of Divine Being back to the human experience of time, to the unforeseeablety of a future, which can assume innumerable forms. In the light of this particular meaning, the first part of the verse should indicate God's Essence, while the second part should indicate the changeable manifestations of an only substance, which is in reality always identical with itself. This incipit of Mendelssohn's commentary confutes one of Raphaël Hirsch' criticisms, according to which the term Der Ewige would depreciate Divine Providence's intervention in human history. O n the contrary, Providence is one of the fundamental categories of Mendelssohn's philosophical and religious thought and Providence will have an essential rôle in Jerusalem, where the philosopher points out how, without having faith in Providence, in the soul's immortality and in God's eternal truths, human beings can't realise their ultimate goal, which is to be happy. According to a fascinating hypothesis advanced by a few French experts, 2 through Ich bin das Wesen, welches ewig ist we would stress the possibility given to God by Providence to exceed time inside time itself or to transform memory into an instrument of Redemption. In the light of Mendelssohn's understanding of Ex 3,14, Providence gives human beings (the finite being who can't know any dimension other than his own finiteness) an opening onto a dimension beyond time. But the way to reach this dimension is inscribed in the terrestrial nature of the human condition, that is, Providence as eternity is already experienced in the world of men and women, in the community of prayer. The experts, who proposed such a sugges-

Cf. Mendelssohn, M. 1991. Gesammelte Werke. Berlin: Frommann Verlag, vol. 9 / 1 , 133-134. Such as Colette Sirat and René Lapassier.

tive hypothesis, don't explain if Mendelssohn understands the eternity as absence of time or as a dimension beyond time which isn't definable in a negative way with respect to what we know as time. At any rate, surely Redemption is for Mendelssohn a glimpse of the past, which is now read in the light of his deepest meaning and which transforms itself into a "providential present." This providential present nullifies its temporality when it reaches it. In the commentary of Ex 3:14, Mendelssohn doesn't compare himself only with the temporal category at all. According to the philosopher, this verse contains a triple signification: eternity, necessary existence and, obviously, Providence. Justifying his position, in his commentary of Ex 3:14, Mendelssohn finds out that a few of his eminent predecessors (Onqelos for Aramaic language, Saadia and Maimonide for Arabian language) have had to make a draconian choice: the former opted for the exploitation of Providence's idea, the others for the necessary existence and Jonatan Ben Uziel for the link with temporality. Mendelssohn affirms that he opted for the term Der Ewige, both when translating Ex 3:14 and when translating the Tetragrammaton, because all other meanings of identity and of the Divine Name would spring from this substantivized adjective. According to this point of view, the "Necessary Eternal Being" (Das ewig notwendig) and the "foreseeing and provident Being" (das vorsehende Wesen) are the mirror of each other, that is they have got an equivalent value. In fact, in Mendelssohn's thought all these meanings are involved in Ex 3:14. In Mendelssohn's choice we find a part of his conviction (which isn't, for Rosenzweig, as I show better later, maintainable) in the possibility of a rational theology. In evident contradiction with the experience offered by the History of Philosophy, the Foreseeing-Provident Being must spring, for a logical conclusion, from the Necessary Existent Being. In others words, for Mendelssohn, whose thought is still pre-critical (that is anterior to the most important of Kant's works), the essence have supremacy on existence. Even if Mendelssohn's God acts through His Providence in History, He is still a God whose conceptual and abstract identity shines in His concrete theophany. Mendelssohn's God is still a philosophers' God, even if Mendelssohn tries a difficult mediation between his Jewish faith and his Enlightenment thought.

Franz Rosenzweig According Leo Baeck, on the basis of the correspondence of those years between Rosenzweig and Buber, we can affirm, without straying too far from reality, that Rosenzweig influences Buber's translation of Ex 3:14, since it represents a tradition perfectly consonant with Rosenzweig's concept of Redemption developed at the time of Der Stern der Erlösung. Rosenzweig translates Ex 3:14 in the following way:3

3

Cf. Rosenzweig, F.-Buber, M. 1992. Die Bibel. Stuttgart: Bibelgesellschaft Verlag, 189.

Gott aber sprach zu Mosche: Ich werde dasein, als der ich dasein werde. Und sprach: so sollst du zu den Söhnen Jisraels sprechen: "Ich bin da" schickt mich zu euch.

Beginning with Rosenzweig's explanations in his correspondence, we have to try to understand what dasein and werde mean with respect to Mendelssohn's Ewigkeit. In a letter to Hans Ehrenberg dated April 23, 1926,4 Rosenzweig affirms that his translation of that enigmatic verse has been influenced by Benno Jacob's research on Exodus 5 (published in 1922 as Moses am Dornbusch). In light of this research, which is centralised on the problem of divine identity as it shows Itself in Exodus, for his translation of the term èhyèh Rosenzweig doesn't privilege the meaning "necessary existence," but rather the meaning "Providence." Even at a mere linguistical level, èhjèh hasn't got the static meaning of being, but the dynamic meaning of a Being who becomes and acts. This verse indicates the Divine Identity pronounced and shown just by God, and therefore returns to God's effective presence next to Moses. According to Rosenzweig, it is clear, considering their enslavement, that the unhappy Jewish people Moses has to turn to don't expect a conference ex-cathedra about God's necessary existence. They need an explanation which dispels any reasonable doubt, as does their hesitating leader. For this reason, according to Rosenzweig's letter to Buber dated June 23, 1923, the biblical context justifies only a translation for Ex 3:14, a translation which can't concern the "Eternal Being," but, on the contrary, the "Present Being," who is and who becomes with and alongside the Jewish People. In Rosenzweig's conception, biblical monotheism doesn't consist in the simple unique idea of God, but it consists in recognising this God as a Being who isn't separated from concrete existence, from what is more personal and immediate: èhjèh and Ich bin da, pronounced from the burning bush and delivered to mankind through Moses. According to Rosenzweig, the third chapter of Exodus shows Divine selftestimony, which allows him to elucidate the Tetragrammaton's dull surface. God doesn't name Himself as the "Essent Being" (der Seiende), but as the "Existent Being" (der Daseiende), He Who exists not only in Himself, but also "for you," Who exists for you face to face (metaphor which be held dear by Emmanuel Lévinas), He Who approaches you and helps you. According to this particular meaning, Rosenzweig writes in a letter to Ernst Carlesbach dated 2nd August 1924:6 Mendelssohn's G o d doesn't allow me to use the familiar form of address; I can't say to Him: "You."

4 5 6

Cf. Rosenzweig, F. 1990. Der Mensch und sein Werk. Dordrecht: Nijhoff Verlag, 1° vol., 1104. Cf. Benno, J. 1922. Mosesam Dornbusch. Frankfurt am Main: Källiger Verlag. Cf. ibid., 1128.

In his translation/interpretation of Ex 3:14, Rosenzweig is almost obliged to compare himself to Mendelssohn. In the essay Der Ewige, Rosenzweig shows great esteem for Mendelssohn, "who enabled German Jews to understand the meaning of their Deutschtum," even if Mendelssohn's Judaism is exclusively founded on divine Gesetzgebung, that is, only on revealed legislation. It is true that, in accordance with Mendelssohn, Rosenzweig thinks that faith is founded on Revelation's event and thinks that Revelation is reflected by Divine Law. But if Mendelssohn conceives commandments as symbolical acts, Rosenzweig attributes the possibility to make understood the link between faith and reason to the concrete experience of revealed theophany.

Martin Buber Here, we will limit ourselves to that period of Buber's life (1923-1938 ca.), when dissertations on Ex 3:14 appear frequendy in the philosopher's correspondence. His privileged interlocutors are, during this period, (with the exception, obviously, of Franz Rosenzweig) Ernst Simon, Gerhard Scholem, Hugo Bergmann and Hugo von Hoffmanstahl. In the course of his collaboration with Franz Rosenzweig, Buber shows a great esteem for this last one's observations and advice, in fact the two philosophers agree upon the following approach: to send each other translations of a few more complicated verses and to evaluate together the version most consonant with the biblical text. It dates back to March 5, 1923, the first account Rosenzweig sent to Buber about difficulties Rosenzweig encounters comparing himself with Ex 3:14:7 O n the basis of what I have seen till now, I think the translation which best approaches Scripture is "Ich werde dasein als der ich dasein werde."

Buber's answer dates back to March 30, and shows that the considerations on that which will later become his dialogical philosophy played a very important part in the translation of that enigmatic verse: In Ex 3:14, we have to try to keep the doubleness of Divine Promise included into the repetition of term "èhyèh": "I will be present and I will remain prèsent in your way" [...]. Dialogue's importance is given to "ashèr," which joins the two promises and the two interlocutors to each other.

According to Buber, as he writes later in the same letter to Rosenzweig, even if a promise joins in the same way the one who makes it and the one who accepts it, the focal point of Ex 3:14 is represented by God and not by a human. Traditional hermeneutics usually thinks Moses' answer means just that: to know the answer to give Jewish people, when they ask Moses the true God's Name, God Who gave Moses the message. So conceived, according to Buber, the meaning of this verse transforms itself in one of the focal points of his main hypothesis. O n the basis of this last, the Jewish God should be only an evolu-

7

Cf. Buber, M. 1975. Briefwechsel aus sieben Jahrçbcnten. Heidelberg: Lambert Schneider Verlag, 2 vol., 78.

tion of a few gods already present in that area whose principle characteristic is the appropriation of their names by believers. According to Buber's perspective, this hypothesis is invalidated by the fact that, in biblical Jewish (and nowadays also in Modern) to ask for the name the question isn't "What is [‫ ]מה‬your name?," but "Who [‫ ]מי‬are you?." Seeing that Moses' request shows itself just through the question " ‫מי א ת ה‬," it is clear that Moses' query doesn't refer only to God's Name, but also to what this name hides. In a letter to Ernst Simon dated November 15, 1923,8 Buber writes that the deepest meaning of Ex 3,14 is the same we find.in Gn 35:10, when, after God's struggle with Jacob on the bank of river, the Lord gave Jacob the name of Israel ("He who struggles with God"). According to Buber, the substantial difference between these two old-testamentary episodes is the fact that, while in G n 35:10 we have a unilateral imposition, in Ex 3:14 we face a direct dialogue between creature and Creator. Surprisingly, in a certain sense, in Ex 3:14 humans "limit" God, obliging Him to answer. In this letter, as in that one dated 4 th August 19259 to Hugo von Hoffamnstahl, it is evident how Buber tries to connect Ex 3:14 with the Divine Name and how Buber tries to explain It in the light of èhjèh ashèr èhjèh. During this period, Buber thinks that, since Ex 3:14 appears to be an answer to an appeal, God's Name is also at first a vocative: Ya-hu. Beginning from this vocative (here is Rosenzweig's influence), God is called through an unpronounceable name, which is contemporaneously more and less than a name: YHWH. In a letter to Hugo Bergmann dated 14th September 1927,10 Buber observes that, as Tetragrammaton is an answer to an appeal if we interpret It in the light of Ex 3:14, it is clear why our own biblical names rarely refer in their form and root to Tetragrammaton. The only exception is represented by Moses' mother's name, Yochebed ("God is great"). This name almost witnesses a kind of "family tradition," which would prepare the way to Revelation's event of Divine Essence. Really, it is more reliable to maintain that, in a period of religious lassitude, as the slavery age under Egyptian aegis, the intimate Tetragrammaton's essence sinks into oblivion. So Tetragrammaton transforms Himself into an empty phonetical resonance. As Buber writes in a letter to Rosenzweig dated 14th July 1925," in a certain sense, in the collective memory and consciousness of Jewish Peopie, Ex 3:14 arouses the last Tetragrammaton's meaning, showing His deepest essence which even Patriarchies didn't know (Ex 6:3). The usual translation "I am Who I am" [Ich bin der ich bin] gives a Divine Being's description as the "Unique Essent" or "Eternally Essent" that is He Who keeps Himself for ever in His being. [....] However, this kind of abstraction isn't suitable to the rebirth

8 9 10 11

Cf. Cf. Cf. Cf.

Ibid., Ibid., Ibid., Ibid.,

89. 147. 195. 161.

of religious vitality as that one which happens inside Jewish People through Moses.

In this letter, Buber stresses how hâyâh doesn't indicate a pure metaphysical essence at all, but a happening, a "coming-to-be," "to-be-present between this one and that one," but it doesn't indicate an abstract and transcendent existence. According to Buber, the answer "I am Who I am" isn't suitable to a Reveladon, but at the worst it can be congenial to an essence which desires to remain mysteriously hidden even to people to whom it introduces itself. From this perspecrive, "I am Who I am" shows itself to be a meaningless tautology or one whose meaning can be understood by the human mind. What should Revelation's meaning be, if God's purpose was to remain hidden? When Jewish people are informed about their imminent liberation, they need to experience divine proximity and not Its great distance from human destiny and events. The Lord is present as He Who has been, who is and who will be present in a both transcendent and earthly immediacy. Buber observes that just after and just before Revelation (Ex 3:12 and Ex 4,12), God reaffirms His presence next to these whom He has chosen. When Moses, timorous about the task given to him, asks God what he will be able to say to the Jews, how he will be able to convince them, God replies I will be with you. Renewing this promise just made to Yztchaq, God nullifies any noticeable difference between Patriarchies' God and the voice speaking to Moses from the burning bush. During this exceptional linguistical challenge, Moses is invited to introduce himself to the Jews as èhyètís envoy. As Buber observes in a letter to Ernst Simon dated April 12, 1932,12 èhjèh isn't a name at all, but is the contractive form of the verb hâyâh, which contains with itself the last meaning of Revelation. God can't be named èhyèh, or rather God shows Himself in this way only in the third chapter of Exodus, when it is necessary for the Jews be conscious of God to permit Him to communicate His will. This consciousness can't be taught by a theological treatise, but it can be experienced in the certainty of the daily dialogue with Patriarchies' God. According to Buber, the link between Ex 3:14 and the Divine Name decrees the birth of a new alliance, where Creator and creature find themselves joined, even if at different levels, in the always open dimension of dialogue. Buber also examines the interpretation of Ex 3:14 carefully in the essay (1945) "Moses," in which the analysis is conducted predominately on a historical basis. Revelation, which in the essay Ich und Du can appear as a mere spiritual essence where the concrete world of reciprocity founds itself, assumes more and more earthly distinguishing features during the evolution of Buber's studies on the Bible. In the essay "Moses," Revelation is faced both as political and as historical category, even if It never looses either Its ultramondanity or Its connective character between Creator and creature. In the work Eclipse of God,n a collection of essays written between 1930 and 1950 (when Buber is already over

12 13

Cf. Ibid., 431. Cf. Buber, M. 1973. Eclipse of God. London: Happingen Publ.

seventy years old), these particular Revelation's aspects are more carefully examined in the light of a new problematic: God's hiding caused by human Ego. It is true that Ex 3:14 grants God's presence next to humans, but humans can escape from this link when they wish. Desiring a comparison with a son and not with a servant, God has granted to human being the possibility not to choose in favour of Creation. God has permitted human being to refuse Revelation and to replace a new God: the Ichheit (we can translate it as Egoity). In this sense, Buber concludes his decennial speculations about God and Revelation, stressing the never ending struggle of human beings to keep the link with God alive. In every moment, this link can be swallowed up by an objectivizing and egoistic Ich, an Ich who doesn't know the dialogical dimension of love.

T H E RELEVANCE OF INTERTEXTUAL INTERPRETATION OF TEXTS FOR THE TEACHING OF JEWISH PHILOSOPHY H E R M A N N C O H E N AND FRANZ ROSENZEIG O N ETHOS

AND

EROS

A M I RA Ε RAN Lewinsky College of Education, Israel

This short study is an attempt to tie the relevance of Jewish traditional texts to later Jewish philosophical methods, by letting the different layers of texts communicate with each other, either through an explicit intention of the writer, or through an artificial standpoint of the viewer. My approach is best demonstrated in the following saying, which serves as an introduction to the central text of my examination: R Hiyya B. Abba in the name of R. Johanan expounded, with reference to the Scriptural text, *Whoso keepeth the fig tree shall not eat the fruit thereof (Prov 27:18). Why were the words of the Torah compared to the fig tree? As with the fig tree the more one searches it, the more figs one finds in it, so it is with the words of the Torah; the more one studies, the more relish he finds in them. ÇErubin 54a-54b; Ed. Epstein, I. London 1938, 379)

Thus, the relevance of any text, according to this passage, is in the eye of the beholder; the more he studies it, the more fruits he finds in it. The focus of my study will be the relation between the fig-leaf: the allegoric language of the Bible and the Midrash, and the fig-fruit: the real love relations between man and woman behind the simile of the love for G o d and for His Torah I shall examine a narrow angle of the concept of love expressed by Hermann Cohen and Franz Rosenzweig through the lens of the Bible (The Song of Songs) and the sages (Ήrubin), hoping to show how echoes of the past carry— consciously and unconsciously—concealed and unconcealed implications for the present. The text of Έrubin continues as follows: R. Samuel B. R. Nahmani expounded, With reference to the Scriptural text, 'Loving hind and a graceful roe' etc. (Prov 5:19); Why were the words of the Torah compared to a hind? To tell you that as the hind has a narrow womb and is loved by its mate at all times as at the first hour of their meeting, so it is with the words of the Torah, they are loved by those who study them at all times, as the hour when they first made their acquaintance. ('Erubin 54)

In the eyes of the sages the ideal woman, and hence the ideal love, is a love in which there is no difference between its sensual-carnal aspect and its intellectual and spiritual aspect. The most elevated and exalted notion of the spiritual pleas-

ure of learning is united with the most primitive and instinctive bodily pleasure of making love. The womb is the location of happiness as well as the intellect, and love which originates in the womb constitutes a spiritual soul-link which repeats itself over and over again in future meetings with the same powerful freshness of the first virginal acquaintance. The notion of time here is thus narrowed to the individual experience, which dominates and overcomes the objective notion of real factual time. The narrow womb of the graceful roe, which is the origin of real life, is correlative to the Torah which is the origin of an idealistic concept of life and its practical implications. Hermann Cohen, who makes the passage "love the rea as thyself' the core of his ethics, is careful enough not to identify moral love with erotic love, and all the more the "other" with the beloved woman. Yet the feminine allusions which radiate from emotional ties almost force Cohen to follow in the footsteps of the sages and to make room for the narrow womb. Nevertheless, Cohen turns passion into compassion and makes the knowledge of suffering, rather than the pleasure of love, the prime motivation for breaking out the self-satisfaction to the act of giving love. The mutual joy of love shred between two equal individuals is replaced by Cohen with feeling of sympathy which is the result of the essential inequality between a "lower" individual who is worthy of compassion and the "higher" individual whose virtues fit the moral pattern. The Hebrew word for compassion, rabamim, is derived from the root rebem, which means womb. The basis for moral relations is thus the acquaintance with one's soul-brother, which is equal in strength and intensity to the relationship with one's blood-brother. Compassion, then, is a spiritual substitute for unconditional motherly love, and it guarantees that the bonds of society will be as unalterable as family ties. Therefore, the first meeting with the "other" must always have the demanding power of the first acquaintance of the lover with the "graceful roe," since this is exactly the manner in which moral duty is differentiated from an episodic emotional reaction. According to Cohen's adaptation of Ben Azai's interpretation of Gen 5:1: "This is the book of the generations of man," all men are brothers. The likeness and sameness of all humans provide evidence for their mutual moral obligations, which draw their validity from the common physical womb. Hence, the essential equality of men, which constitutes the basis for the moral demand, is justified by their brotherly relations traced back to one father and reinforced by the likeness of God implanted in each of them. Referring to the famous verse of Michah, "What doth the Lord require of thee: only to do jusdy and to love mercy and to walk humbly with thy God," Cohen now can make a profound distinction between the practice of moral duties and the performance of acts of loving-kindness. Whereas in the case of moral duties no emotions are involved, the act of loving kindness blossoms out of love. Consequently, while moral duty ought to be impersonal in the sense that man should relate to all his fellow-men in the same way, an act of love is an

expression of empathy and affection towards a specific person. Through sympathy with suffering, love acknowledges the differences and discords between the archetypal "fellow-man" and the real flesh and blood individual, whose incompleteness calls for compassion and merciful acts. The expression of compassion is the most authentic manifestation of solidarity with soul-brothers, and it is precisely its role to render blood ties into spiritual ties and to render passion into compassion. Thus merciful love combines compassion and passion into one. Ahavat hesed focuses its attention on giving—hesed—over and above the strict moral imperative. This type of love crosses the borders of morals and penetrates the realm of intimate relations. The rea can now be seen as the beloved one, the "other," and in this sense he corresponds to the beloved woman, whose hesed is sought out of passion alone. The merging of feelings and duty is possible by uniting the universai mental qualities of man with his personal physical weaknesses, seeing them all originating in the common womb of humanity. As we strive to explore the effect of traditional expressions of human love on the concept of divine love, we ought to take into account that Franz Rosenzweig treats the Biblical texts as if they were an exact documentation of the desired love relations. He opposes the inclination to treat the Song of Songs as a simile, a worldly allegory of supersensual relations of superhuman love. "But love is not 'but simile' "—he protests—"it is simile in its entirety and its essence... for love could not be eternal as love if it did not appear to be transitory..." In real love there should be no objective distinction between vital, sensual, earthly passion and rigid, frozen spiritual satiety. Just as R. Hiyya believes that the essence of love combines the pleasure of the moment—the very first and ever-first moment of the act of love—and the non-temporal pleasure of the knowledge of love, so too, Rosenzweig sees the main characteristic of love as expressed in the Song of Songs in its perpetual movement. The dynamic nature of the presence of love makes it impossible to nail it to any objective definition, for it is not connected with any external goal it is bound to achieve. The experience of the self is the only testimony for its occurrence, and thus the declaration of "love now," which means to love and be loved, is the gist of the information that can be drawn from the Song of Songs. Despite its intense vitality, love is sterile because it is divorced from its productive feminine potential to create life. This inherent talent is detached from the momentary human presence of love and devoted solely to the divine. It is amazing that while Rosenzweig is not willing to make any distinction between the human and the divine realm when he describes existential occurrences, he does make this clear-cut distinction when he discusses the fertility of love. We have recognized the Song of Songs as a focal book of revelation; in it these words [love strong as death] constitute the sole objective moment , the sole rationalization, the sole passage which is only stated not spoken. In these words creation visibly extends upward into revelation and is visibly topped up by revelation. (Star; 202)

If the direct experience is completely subjective, the indirect speech about the nature of love provides the objective criteria which isolate the event and reveal the role of God. According to the objective point of view, revelation is the content of the love of God, and creation is the attribute of God by which his love is seen and felt. Yet, even the objective look is too narrow to encompass direcdy the creative, ever-changing activity of God; it can only talk about its negation: death. Death as the counterpart of life is the counterpart of the originating power of God and the counterpart of Eros. The negation of death as the end of life is correlative to the positiveness of Eros as a spring of life. Death is the Ultimate and Consummate of creation and love is strong as death. This is the only thing that can be stated, pre-dictated, re-counted about

love. (Ibid.) Death is the content of an objective empty generalization about what stands in contrast to the unspeakable completeness of the divine chain of occurrences that is named by its emotional drive: love. For love is speech wholly active wholly personal, wholly living, wholly speak-

ing. (Ibid.) It is precisely this notion of wholeness that can not be grasped by the mind, which is parallel in its strength to the absolutism and totality of death, and which was ascribed by R. Hiyya to the Torah. The comparison of the Torah— an all-encompassing wholeness—with a narrow womb, is a reversed parallelism of the identification of Eros and creation suggested by Rosenzweig. But while R. Hiyya is interested in confining the intellectual, general pleasure of studying the Torah to one and first meeting of love, Rosenzweig is interested in the generalization of the personal, intimate, concrete and unique touch of love to an objective conceptualization. It should be added here that in his attempt to generalize the impact of Eros on the self, Rosenzweig follows in the footsteps of Cohen. As was stated before, Cohen expands the notion of the love of "thy rea " to the human brotherliness, and as a result ethical activity is centered in generality whose realization is humanity. Rosenzweig elaborates this inclination and sees in the rea or the neighbor only a representative of the moral love. The "neighbor" might be a person or a thing, which present the nearest target for the realization of the formal commandment to love. One's fellow man merits love simply by virtue of his presence and proximity. Thus the neighbor is only a representative. He is not beloved for his own sake, nor for his beautiful eyes, but only because he just happens to be standing there, because he happens to be nighest to me. (Ibid., 218)

In a surprising turn, Rosenzweig prefers to see as the "nearest" rea not the nearest blood related person, who naturally has permanent close relations with the self, but an "episodic" fellow—man who happens to be loved in the circumstances of the moment.

Moreover, Rosenzeig sees in real flesh and blood des a type of brotherly reladon which stands in opposition to love relations: But here the soul aspires beyond this love to the realm of brotherliness, the bond of supernatural community, wholly personal in its experience yet wholly worldly in its existence... If this longing is to be fulfilled, then the beloved soul must cross the magic circle of belovedness... (Ibid., 204)

I do not think that Rosenzweig here is adopting Cohen's attitude, according to which only spiritual brotherhood is worthy of moral love. It seems to me that the reason for Rosenzweig's approach is his insistence not to limit love by external borders, and to free it from all obligations and justifications besides its pure existence. Love does not need an excuse, nor does it need an external goal. It has an independent inner engine and it moves towards a lover from the moment of its beginning. Thus, the autonomy of the moral act is defined through its intention and not by its expected consequences. Similarly, the passion of love is kept as long as the lover has trust in the strength of love alone, and he does not seek certainty and infinite affirmation in a permanent connection, as is characteristic of blood ties. If it were otherwise, if the act were a product of a given volitional orientation... if in short it were to emerge as infinite affirmation, then it would be not act of love, but purposive act. (Ibid., 215)

The reason for rejecting the identification of sensual love with moral love is to be found in the philosophical concepts of both Cohen and Rosenzweig, in their refusal to see in passionate love (Rosenzweig), or in the act of loving-kindness (Cohen), a schematic and organized act, which is chained to its purpose, however desirable and admirable it may seem to be. It is quite clear that one can not summon up sympathy at will, nor can one order oneself to produce love for someone. Although the motives of Rosenzweig and Cohen for this rejection are not the same (Cohen aspires to emphasize the motivation of the good will, while Rosenzweig wishes to stress the drive of the free will), they both see in the love for one's fellow-man a manifestation of the love of God, and they both see moral love as a confine reflection of the divine love. The absence of erotic affection from the moral love might be understood as a natural result of the generalized character that the moral act should assume. Since the center of ethical conduct is humanity—or its representative, one's fellow man—the moral act can not be personal. Yet, another possible explanadon, which can be found in the prototype of relations between sensual love and mental love portrayed by R. Hiyya, is the importance of the virginity of experience for real love. From this point of view, spiritual love lags behind sensual love, because it can only imitate the pleasure of the first lovers' acquaintance, or revive it through recollection. There is no need to repeat the importance of the first and only moment for Rosenzweig's concept of love. His whole train of thoughts revolves around the peculiar talent of love to carry in itself its everlasting renewed beginning. All future events are merely a reproduction of the

first moment of love, giving birth to itself from an inner womb that continuously fertilizes itself. According to R. Hiyya, the special virtue of the beloved—be it a real woman or the Torah—is her talent for giving to every meeting with her, the joy and the pleasure of the first virginal experience. The taste of the beginning does not fade as the experience repeats itself; its freshness and uniqueness transform time and space into abstract measures of spiritual nearness, intellectual knowledge and moral generalization.

Conclusions In this study I have examined Jewish traditional texts, which can stand alone in a broader context, as sources of inspiration and information for later modern Jewish philosophical compositions. My presumption was that the effect of the earlier texts on the later may be explored, even if it is not admitted explicitly by their writers. The passage from Έηώίη ascribed to R. Hiyya and, of course, the texts from the Song of Songs were used as a prototype of love relations in their twofold implication: the sensual-personal and the spiritual-universal. I have strived to show how these two different aspects of love assume new meaning in the eyes of later generations of readers, in order to adopt them to the prevailing moral concept of love. The common features of all the approaches discussed, were these: a) Sensual love, which is concerned with the immediate pleasures of the body, is a blessing and should be seen as one of the virtues of the beloved woman. b) Eros is identified mosdy with that sensual, spontaneous and passionate love. c) Eros is connected with the overwhelming, personal, intimate, firstsight love encounter. d) The generalization of the erotic drive and the feminine implications associated with the (narrow) womb constitutes the basis for moral activity centered in the love for one's fellow-man, and for moral conduct derived from feelings of brotherliness. The differences between the approaches to love in the systems examined, can be summed up to the following: a) While Rosenzweig is following in the footsteps of R. Hiyya and gives priority to sensual love, whose strongest expression is the first moment of acquaintance with the beloved, Cohen keeps the desired act of love out of the reach of the momentary experience. Since Cohen is presenting an idealistic philosophy, he gives priority to the conceptualization of emotional love and hence prefers to render passion into compassion. b) The vitality of love is best described according to Rosenzweig, by its comparison to death. For Rosenzweig, the fear of death is not less alive than the surrender to the conquering power of love. Thus, while R. Hiyya emphasizes the overwhelming impression of the first hour of the lovers' acquaintance, Ro-

senzweig stresses—with no less importance—the encounter with the last moment of life. c) In the eyes of R. Hiyya, the virtue of the narrow womb lies in its being both source of life and source of love. The intellectual pleasure of the study of Torah is a spiritual transformation of the pleasurable fertility of the womb, which reproduces and reconstructs the excitement of the first moment of love over and over again. For Rosenzweig, on the other hand, the special faculty of the womb, giving life, is confined only to the virginal first hour, and is compared in strength to the last moment and the ending of life (to death). Thus, the fertility of the womb is made barren by the terror of death. d) While Cohen aspires to distinguish the act of loving-kindness from a routine moral act by considering the latter a manifestation of compassion, Rosenzweig prefers to detach morality from emotional love and to see in any "nearest" fellow-man or thing a worthy object of the ethical activity. e) According to Cohen, compassion (rahamim), whose source is the common womb (rehem) of all humans, is the most authentic manifestation of humanity, since it gives expression to the brotherly relations among all men. For Rosenzweig, on the other hand, brotherliness—genetic and spiritual—is but a reduction of the of the total and absolute value of spontaneous love.

Primary Sources: Rosenzweig, F. 1971. The Star of Redemption. Trans. W. W. Hallo. NW-York. (Re. 1985. N o t r e Dame: IN); quoted as: Star.

Secondary Sources: Melber, J. 1968. Hermann Cohen's Philosophy of Judaism. N e w York. Rotenstreich, N. 1968. From Mendelssohn to Rosen^weig—Jewish Philosophy in Modern Times. N e w York. 52-105; 149-218.

KAWWANAHET

FINALITÉ DE LA PRIÈRE

DANS LE SHOMER

EMÛNÎM DE

J O S E P H BEN E M M A N U E L ERGAZ (1685^730) ROLAND GOETSCHEL Sorbonne Nouvelle-Paris IV, France

Joseph Ergaz consacre plusieurs paragraphes vers la fin de la seconde partie de son livre Shomer Emûnîm au problème de savoir où doit aller l'intention de la prière (§ 62-75) et quelle est la finalité dont elle est revêtue (§ 76-78). Le problème de la kawwanah se posait déjà pour les kabbalistes de Provence mais revêt une nouvelle signification dans le contexte de la kabbale post-lourianique et du sabbatianisme. 1 Ergaz part de l'impossibilité en raison de la perfection de prédiquer de lui un quelconque attribut, pas même par voie de négation, comme l'aurait admis Maïmonide pour en déduire qu'on ne saurait adresser de prière à l'Eyn-Sof. Désigner la divinité par un attribut signifierait toujours introduire en elle une limitation. Ainsi si on le désignait comme "sage" cela signifierait qu'il est "sage" mais déficient en ce qui concerne d'autres attributs, et que celui-ci n'engloberait pas en lui toutes les autres perfections, alors que cela est le cas.2 Il n'y a pas en Lui de modalité qui soit particulière, telle que l'attribut "sage" qui renverrait à la sagesse seulement. Il en découle que si on le qualifie de "sage" même en spécifiant que cette sagesse n'a rien de c o m m u n avec notre sagesse, on gagne ce disant à ce que l'Eyn-Sof et "Sagesse" ne sont pas deux comme c'est le cas chez nous, mais on le limite cependant par l'attribut de "sagesse" et on dénie de lui les autres perfections, ce qui est faux. E n effet l'Eyn-Sof est une substance simple, une réalité une qui englobe toutes les perfections en son unité. Aucune trace de perfection particulière telle que "sage" ne s'inscrit en lui, et il en va ainsi des autres attributs. C'est même le cas pour l'attribut "un," lui aussi indique une limite, savoir qu'il serait limité par son unité. C'est pourquoi si on s'oblige à le désigner comme "un," même si on affirme qu'il n'existe pas d'unité comme la sienne, cela demeure interdit, car on introduit en lui une limitation. 3 Celui qui pense en disant " u n " énoncer son unité, parvient au résultat contraire. Il ne sied en effet pas de qualifier l'Eyn-Sof de l'attribut

Cf. Scholem, G. 1962. Les Origines de la Kabbale. Paris, 258-263. Pour le problème des kawwanot dans le contexte du sabbatianisme cf. notre article "Le problème de la kawwanah dans le Yosher Lebab d'Emmanuel Hai Ricchi." In Prière, Mystique et Judaïsme. PUF 1987, 207-222. Ra'aya Mehemmna, 257 a. Cf. Bahya ibn Paquda, Hobot ba-Lebabot. Premier Portique. Ch. VIII et IX, et Maïmonide, Guide I, Ch. 57.

"un" car il précède ce qui est "un". Et comme l'enseigne le Sefer Yetsirah: "Avant l'un que dénombres-tu?" 4 A propos de quoi le (pseudo) Rabad s'est exprimé ainsi: Étant donné qu'il n'est même pas possible d'attribuer le n o m b r e un, même à Keter Etyon, si ce n'est en raison de sa pleine indifférenciation et non pour sa mesure et son nombre qui est en sa généralité dans Hokhmah. S'il en est ainsi, quelle chose et quelle expression seront aptes à être énoncée concernant la cause des causes? 5

11 en résulte qu'aucun terme ne peut être prédiqué de l'Eyn-Sof afin que le langage ne vienne pas limiter ce qui est illimité. Il nous est par conséquent interdit de le qualifier par un quelconque nom, attribut, lettre ou voyelle.6 Il découle de là qu'aucune prière ne peut s'adresser d'aucune manière à l'Eyn-Sof en sa simplicité. Mais il s'agit alors d'élucider comment il est possible de dire que les sefirot sont les noms et les attributs mentionnés dans la Torah et dans le rituel des prières? Ne faudrait-il pas en conclure que nous adressons nos prières non à l'Eyn-Sof mais aux sefirot, ce qui serait une transgression achevée? Ainsi que l'ont enseigné nos maîtres, de mémoire bénie dans le Sifré à propos du verset (Deut 4,7): Comme ΥΗΨΉ notre Dieu en toutes les invocations que nous dirigeons vers Lui, "vers lui" et non pas vers "ses attributs." 7 La réponse à cette difficulté est que nous n'adressons pas nos prières aux sefirot mais seulement à la force qui agit en elles, qui est l'Eyn-Sof revêtu des sefirot. Celui qui adresse une prière à une quelconque sefirah se rend coupable de polythéisme comme l'ont enseigné R. David ben Zimrah dans la préface de son Magen David, R. Moïse Cordovero dans son 'Elimah Rabbati ainsi que tous les autres kabbalistes. 8 Il est aussi le premier inte‫ש‬gible, du moment que nous croyons qu'il illumine l'univers entier par sa gloire et qu'il gouverne par sa providence particulière. S'il en est ainsi, c'est à Lui et non en dehors de Lui que nous adressons nos requêtes concernant la subsistance, la santé, l'allégement et l'expiation du châtiment, ainsi que la satisfaction de nos autres besoins. En effet tout vient de Lui car il n'existe nulle puissance en dehors de Lui pour dispenser le bien. Si nous devons adresser toutes nos prières à l'Eyn-Sof, qui donne, comment est-il possible du fait du revêtement de l'Eyn-Sof dans les sefirot que nous puissions lui-adresser nos prières et de le mettre en relation avec les noms et les attributs évoqués dans nos prières? Pour répondre à cette interrogation, Ergaz rappelle son opposition à la théorie des attributs de Maïmonide. S'il en allait, comme le prétend l'auteur du Guide, que des actions opposées n'impliquent pas de changements dans la

4 5 6 7

8

Sefer Yetsirah, I, 7. Pseudo-Rabad (R. Joseph Ashkenazi) sur Sefer Yetsirah. Jérusalem 1962, 28 b. S homer Emûnim, § 63 (Par la suite, le livre sera désigné par le sigle SE.). Sifré sur Deut 4,7. Ergaz s'inspire manifestement de Möise Cordovero, Pardes Rimmonim. Jérusalem 1966 /67 Porrique XXXII, chapitre 2, 75 b-c. David ben Zimra, Magen David, (repr. s. d.) Munkatz 1911/12 préface, ch. II. Moïse Cordovero, 'Elimah Rabbati 'Eyn kôl, Tamar. Jérusalem 1966, II, ch. 2, 10 b - c et 18, 16a-6 c.

substance de l'agent, 9 nous pourrions prédiquer de l'Eyn-Sof tous les noms et tous les attributs, en les considérant comme des attributs d'action, et non comme des attributs essentiels. Mais puisque cela n'est pas, conformément à la tradition ésotérique et à tant de démonstrations fournies par les théologiens qui ont établi de manière apodictique que l'activité de l'Eyn-Sof est une activité d'une simplicité entière, il en découle que même du point de vue de ses actions, nous ne sommes pas autorisés à prédiquer de lui des attributs multiples car la particularisation et la multiplicité des attributs d'action induirait la multiplicité en ce qui Le concerne. Et même si chacun des attributs d'action exprime une perfection particulière et limitée, il est impossible de la prédiquer de l'Eyn-Sof car elle enseignerait limite et déficience relativement aux autres perfections. La réalité de Son activité n'est pas de cette espèce, elle englobe en effet toutes les actions et toutes les perfections dans une unité plénière. C'est pourquoi, même du point de vue de ses actions, nous ne prédiquons de Lui aucun attribut, car nous n'avons pas de mot pour rendre toutes les actions et toutes les perfections dans l'unité absolue et l'indifférenciadon plénière par lesquelles s'accomplit Son action. Cependant, on s'aperçoit que les kabbalistes ont su répondre à une question épineuse: Comment rapporter à l'Eyn-Sof tous les noms et attributs du point de vue des actions qu'il exerce par le moyen des réalités émanées et des sefirot... Cela est possible, avance Ergaz, qui s'inspire d'Abraham Herrera, en distinguant, deux espèces dans l'activité de l'Eyn-Sof: 10 La première, lorsqu'il a fait émaner, sans aucun instrument (kelì) Keter de 'Adam Qadmon lequel a émané de Eyn-Sof sans aucun intermédiaire. A ce niveau, on ne peut prédiquer de Lui aucun des noms écrits dans la Torah fût-ce en tant qu'attributs d'action. Aucun nom ne suffit en effet pour qualifier son action simple qui est totale et absolue. La seconde espèce de Ses activités est celle qu'il exerce à travers des instruments. En effet, c'est en recourant à cet instrument considéré qu'est Keter de 'Adam Kadmon qu'il a fait émaner les dix sefirot de 'Adam Qadmon et avec elles les dix sefirot du monde de l'émanation. 11 De même II a créé, formé et fabriqué l'ensemble des trois mondes de la création, de la formation et de la fabrication par l'intermédiaire des réalités émanées. Dans cette perspective, on peut lui attribuer noms et attributs considérés comme des attributs d'action. Ergaz appuie son argumentation sur un passage du Ra'aja Mehemna (Is 40,25): Je suis l'image de qui, et à qui va-t-on me faire ressembler? Avant que le Saint-béni soit-Il n'eut créé une image dans le monde et dessiné une forme, Il était unique sans forme, ni image; et qui le connaissait avant la création? Il était sans image. 9 10

11

Maïmonide, Guide I, ch. 53. SE § 87. Sur la théologie kabbalisdque d'Abraham Herrera, on consultera le beau livre de Yosha, N. 1994. Mythe et Métaphore, l'interprétation philosophique de la Kabbale de Ar"ipar R. Abraham Cohen Herrera (Hébr.). Jérusalem. Adam Qadmon est dans la kabbale d'Isaac Louria le nom de la première réalité qui résulte du tsimtsûm. Elle est elle-meme divisée en dix sefirot, dont la première est désigné comme Keter de 'Adam Qadmon.

Il est interdit de lui attribuer une forme ou une image de ce monde, ni de le représenter par la lettre H é ou la lettre Yod, ni m ê m e par le saint nom, ni par aucune lettre ou voyelle; c'est ce qui est dit (Deut 4,15): Vous n'avez aPerÇu aucune forme, c'est dire vous n'avez aperçu aucune réalité qui a forme et ressemblance. Mais après qu'il a fait cette image du char de l ' H o m m e d'enhaut, Il est descendu là et est d é n o m m é par cette forme du tétragramme afin qu'il soit connu par Ses modalités, par chaque modalité. O n le n o m m e 'El, 'Elohim, Shadday, Tseba'ot, 'Eheyeh afin qu'on connaisse comment il régit le m o n d e par chaque modalité: par grâce ou par rigueur selon la manière dont le servent les humains... 12

Le Ra'aja Mehemna vient donc enseigner qu'après avoir fait émaner les sefirot, l'Eyn-Sof se trouve désigné par leurs noms qui se référent à ses attributs et aux manières dont il régit le monde. Ergaz se réfère aussi à ce propos aux écrits de l'école d'I. Louria, ainsi se réfère-t-il au début du Otsrôt Hajyim : Lorsque s'éleva à Sa volonté le dessein de faire émaner les êtres émanés pour la raison connue, afin d'être proclamé miséricordieux, gracieux, longanime etc... car s'il n'existait pas dans le m o n d e quelqu'un qui soit apte à accueillir la miséricorde, comment serait-il désigné c o m m e miséricordieux? 13

O n est obligé de dire ainsi que l'Eyn-Sof est désigné en tous ces noms car voici que tous les noms saints présents dans la Torah qui sont l'essence des sefirot ne le sont que par l'adjonction de la puissance de l'Eyn-Sof qui les unifie. Ergaz évoque à ce propos le témoignage du Zohar Hadash: Et Lui II unifie le Yod au Hé, le lVaw au Hé et on ne l'appelle Y H W H que par Lui, et ainsi pour 'Adonay de même que pour , Eheyeh et 'Elohim. Et dès qu'il se retire de là, il n'y a plus de n o m par lequel II puisse être connu. 1 4

Il en résulte donc que les sefirot sans l'Eyn-Sof ne peuvent plus être désignées par YHWH ou par les autres noms. S'il en va ainsi, lorsque nous évoquons le tétragramme et le restant des noms, nous y incluons également la puissance de l'Eyn-Sof qui les unifie et qui est la raison pour laquelle les sefirot sont désignés par ces noms que nous évoquons. Il en résulte que l'Eyn-Sof dans la modalité où il est uni et où il maintient les sefirot qui correspondent à ses activités se trouve désigné par le nom YHWH et par les autres noms et surnoms, mais il ne s'attache à Lui aucun nom dans la modalité de son essence absolue, c'est cela que vient signifier le Zohar Hodash en déclarant "dés qu'il se retire de là, il n'y a plus de nom par lequel II puisse être connu." 15 Pour faire admettre l'idée qu'il est possible à la fois de le désigner par des noms en raison de ses actions alors que l'on ne peut rien prédiquer de Lui, considéré en soi, Ergaz recourt à une parabole. Supposons que le parchemin

12 13

14 15

Ra'aya Mehemna, Ζ II, 42 b. 'Otsmt Hayyim. Ed. Ά . Shalom. Jérusalem 1995, 5. Ergaz se réfère également au 'Adam Yashar. Jérusalem, 1994, 1. Les deux écrits ont été publiés par R. Jacob Tsemah; Ergaz mendonne encore le début du Mabô'She'arim. Tel-Aviv, 1961 P. 2 a. Zohar Hadash sur Yitro 34 c. Ergaz renvoie également à. Ra'aya Mehemna III, 257 b. "Tous les noms ne sont que des surnoms en raison de ses actions."

immaculé produise le tétragramme et les autres noms. Le parchemin blanc enveloppe toutes les lettres des noms à l'extérieur comme à l'intérieur et les porte toutes, car elles n'ont ni existence, ni pérennité si ce n'est par le moyen du parchemin. Il en découle qu'en dépit de ce que le parchemin dans son essence est entièrement blancheur et qu'il n'y a pas en ce qui le concerne un quelconque tracé de lettres ou de voyelles, il existe cependant pour le parchemin sous les lettres du tétragramme une sorte de tracé des lettres et de la forme du tétragramme. En effet sous le Yod de l'encre, il y a le Yod blanc du parchemin qui supporte le Yod de l'encre, de même sous le Hé et ainsi pour toutes les autres lettres; en sorte que le nom tétragrammatique résultant de l'encre amène à limiter la blancheur du parchemin selon l'image de la forme du tétragramme. Il en va de même pour les autres noms tracés sur le parchemin. Mais ceci n'a précisément lieu qu'au moment où les lettres d'encre se trouvent sur le parchemin; mais si les lettres s'envolent et le quittent, le parchemin redevient blanc comme lorsqu'il était sans aucune lettre ou chose semblable. Le sens de la parabole est limpide, nous assure Ergaz. Car l'Eyn-Sof et son instrument considéré Keter de 'Adam Qadmon est semblable au parchemin qui n'a ni nom, ni lettre, ni voyelle. Car Keter de 'Adam Qadmon est, comme dit son effet, simple. Et parce que l'Eyn-Sof fait émaner tous les noms et toutes les sefirot par l'intermédiaire de Keter de 'Adam Qadmon et que tous se maintiennent et subsistent par Lui, comme les lettres sur le parchemin, il est possible d'attribuer à l'Eyn-Sof tous les noms et titres écrits dans la Torah pour le désigner par elles et ceci cependant au niveau de la pensée et de l'intention du cœur exclusivement et non par la voix et la parole, par l'expression de nos lèvres. En effet, comme on l'a dit, aucun mot ni aucune parole n'est susceptible d'être énoncée au sujet de l'Eyn-Sof. L'essentiel de l'enseignement ésotérique concernant ce sujet a été fourni dans le Tiqqûnej Zohar où l'on s'exprime ainsi: Car dans chaque mention qui sort de sa bouche, en tout lieu, en toute parole, il est nécessaire d'orienter son intention au niveau de la parole vers le nom 'Adonay, au niveau de la voix en direction de YHWH et d'unifier ces noms en une unité complète, dans l'unité de l'Unique et l'Occulte qui les relie l'un à l'autre et les unifie en un. L'intentionnalité doit nécessairement aller vers Lui, car ni la parole, ni la voix ne s'appliquent à Lui mais seulement la pensée. 16

Ergaz considère que ce texte est sans équivoque et qu'en toutes nos louanges et prières, nous devons évoquer les noms divins qui se réfèrent aux sefirot sur le plan de la parole et de la voix mais que notre intentionnalité de notre pensée et notre cœur döit se porter vers l'Eyn-Sof qui est, selon les termes des Tiqqûnim "l'Unique et l'Occulte qui les relie l'un à l'autre et les unifie en un" car c'est ainsi que les sefirot sont désignées par Y H W H de même que par les autres noms. Ainsi lorsque nous disons "Ha- 'El ha-Gadôt' (Le Dieu grand) le mot lui-même tel qu'il se trouve exprimé au niveau du langage est en Gedullah (grandeur) mais

16

Tiqqûney Zohar; 3 a. Le motif comme la citation figure chez Cordovero ( supra n. 7).

l'intention va à l'Eyn-Sof qui s'épanche en Gedullah}1 II en va de même pour tous les autres surnoms, modalités et effectuations. Il n'est rien dans la prière qui fasse allusion à l'Eyn-Sof sinon l'intention. C'est pourquoi l'homme doit diriger son intention vers Lui qui est le tout, c'est par sa puissance que toutes les sefirot agissent et qu'elles se trouvent désignées par tous les noms et attributs. 18 Il semble pourtant possible de soulever une objection à l'affirmation selon laquelle il n'y a que l'intention, la kawwanah, qui aille à l'Eyn-Sof. Un passage du Ra'aya Mehemna semble énoncer le contraire, savoir que lorsqu'on demande à l'Eyn-Sof en sa modalité simple aucun des attributs ne se trouve pris en compte mais après qu'il ait fait émaner les sefirot, il faut Lui rapporter les attributs: "Mais après qu'il ait fait cette forme du char de l'Homme d'en-haut, Il est descendu là et II est désigné par la forme du tétragramme" 19 ce qui viendrait nous faire entendre qu'il est désigné aussi au niveau du dire et de la parole et pas seulement au niveau de l'intention. La réponse à l'objection est la suivante. Si le Ra'aya Mehemna avait dit "Il est descendu là et il y a en lui Y H W H " ou "Il est désigné par Y H W H " l'objection serait valable: Savoir que des attributs Lui sont advenus par le truchement des sefirot, c'est à dire que lorsqu'il est descendu là, il y a en Lui Y H W H ou II est appelé YHWH. Mais le Ra'aya Mehemna dit très précisément: "Il est descendu là et II est désigné par la forme du tétragramme" c'est à dire avec la forme du tétragramme, car le tout unifié est désigné comme YHWH. Ceci s'accorde avec le passage évoqué précédemment du Zohar Hadash: le tétragramme comme les autres saints noms sont la substance des sefirot par l'adjonction de la puissance du Eyn-Sof qui les unifie et les maintient. Elles ne sont appelées Y H W H qu'en Lui. C'est pourquoi le texte porte: "Il est descendu là," Il unit et maintient les sefirot et c'est en raison de ceci qu'il est appelé par la forme de YHWH. Il en découle que cette désignation s'effectue au niveau de la voix, de la parole et de la pensée. La voix et la parole concernent les sefirot, qui sont Y H W H et 'Adonay, la pensée porte sur l'Eyn-Sof car il ne sied pas de la voix et la parole mais seulement de la pensée. Ergaz explique que la raison de ce que l'on ne peut attribuer à l'Eyn-Sof les noms en raison des actions par le truchement des émanés qu'au niveau de la pensée et de l'intention seulement et non à celui du dire de la parole est qu'il correspondent aux sefirot auxquelles la puissance de l'Eyn-Sof est immanente. Il en découlera que toutes les prières s'adresseront a l'Eyn-Sof par le truchement des sefirot : La pensée vise l'Eyn-Sof cependant que la parole et le dire se situent au niveau des noms. La prière ne provoque pas de changement en l'Eyn-Sof, ni même au niveau de YArikh 'Anpin, le changement n'est opéré qu'en Zeir Anpin et Nuqbah, les configurations régissant notre monde. La finalité de la prière est donc d'agir sur le plérome divin, Abodah tsorekh Gabo'ah et Ergaz justifie ce principe en distinguant entre deux modes d'épanchement du divin. 17

18 19

L'expression Ha-'Etha-Gadôtest présente dans la première des dix-huit bénédictions et se trouve empruntée à Deut 10, 17. Gedûttah est la quatrième des dix sefirot. SE, 83 b. Ergaz se réfère lui-même ici à Cordovero (supra n°7). Ra'aya Mehemna sur Bâ' 42 b .

AVRAHAM PORTALEONE F R O M SCIENCE TO MYSTICISM ALESSANDRO G U E T T A INALCO, Paris, France

In this paper I will try to bring out some of the significant aspects of the work of Avraham Portaleone (1542-1612), a Jewish doctor from Mantua, known mainly as the author of the Shiltey ha-Gibbotym, a most unusual encyclopaedia published in Mantua in 1612. After some brief biographical data and the description of the book, I will mention the main critical study of it, then offer my personal interpretations, (which confirm the conclusions of that study) and apply them to areas that have been neglected until now. Avraham Portaleone (in Hebrew: ‫ )שער אריה‬was born in Mantua in 1542. Descended from a family of illustrious doctors, he studied in Bologna with Ya'aqov Fano, then in Mantua with Avraham Provenzali who—in his own words—"was in possession of all parts of the oral Torah." 1 This means that he had been able to study the Talmud, or at least its judicial syntheses. Let us remember that at this time all copies of the Talmud were supposed to have been burned, according to the Papal bull issued by Julius III in 1553. Provenzali also taught the young Portaleone Latin. H e then studied in Pavia, where he became a doctor of medicine in 1563. We find him as doctor to the Dukes of Mantua, the Gonzaga family, for w h o m he composed the Consilia medica2 and the De auro dialog,! très, published in Venice in 1584. Meanwhile, he was active in the city's Jewish community, donating his work as "doctor to the poor," as shown in a document published by Shlomo Simonsohn. 3 At the age of 65, Avraham Portaleone was struck down by a serious illness: an attack of apoplexy that paralyzed the whole left side of his body. It was this that led him—as he writes himself—to compose his major work in Hebrew, the Shiltey ha-Gibborym (The Shields of the Brave), intended as an act of pardon for the sins of his youth. Let us follow the description of these circumstances, as the author relates them at the beginning of his book. I would point out that this is one of the rare examples we possess of a fragment of Jewish autobiography of that time: When G o d wanted to chasten me I fell ill. Two years ago the whole left side of my body became as if dead and I could no longer touch my hand to my breast

1 2 3

Shiltey ha-Gibbotym. Mantua 1612, 185b. Ibid. Simonsohn, Sh. 1964. Histoty of the jews in the Duchy of Mantua, Jerusalem, 294.

nor walk in the street, even leaning on a cane, because of the loss of feeling and the ability to move my limbs. I searched my behavior and saw (after H i m w h o sees all) that in addition to my sins, which were more numerous than the hairs on my head, the clamor of my neglecting the Torah rose before the face of G o d . For I had dealings with the children of Greek wisdom, I sought to reach the heights through philosophy and medicine, which lured m e with their honeyed words to seek salvation in the ways of darkness, and thus prevented me f r o m devoting myself to the heritage of the community of Jacob, as I should have done. That is why G o d was angered against me, dire maladies have darkened my days and defeated me; my nerves are ruined, my sighs d o not cease, so that with the bitterness of my soul, sleep has left me and I cannot recover my strength. Happiness has fled and pain increased. So I raised my eyes upward and made repentance (teshuvah) in my heart. I told myself that sin might be forgiven if, after repairing what he had damaged, the father were to teach his children that they would be victorious with G o d if they would put His Law in their hearts, meditate on it day and night and observe prudence and good counsel; by so doing they would be blessed [...].4

So just what is the work in question? It consists of a series of ma'amadoth, that is, excerpts from the Bible, Mishna, Talmud', Midrash and Zohar, to be read during the week in correspondence with the prayers. The author dedicates the work to his children and explains his reasons for writing it. Study—he writes—has an effect upon God, for if the children of Israel observe the Torah through study, God rewards them, according to a reciprocal system in which each party has need of the other. And since it is clear that not everyone can devote his days to study, a careful reading of the selected passages will suffice. This premise contains a number of interesting themes: the reciprocity between God and men (which leads to the notion of theurgy, the idea of human action on God); the pragmatism of a man who lives in the world; the importance attributed to the reading of the text, which has the power to procure material fortune in this world and eternal happiness in the next (which puts on the same plane—as to their effects at least—words and actions). But the next step is perhaps the most interesting. It is well-known that for the Jews, after the destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem, prayer was substituted for sacrifice. Reading the biblical passages concerning the sacrifices, as well as their rabbinical interpretations, reinforces this substitution: it is as if one had really offered the sacrifice. Therefore, continues Portaleone, in order to have clearly in mind the situation of the worshiper offering the sacrifice, to have the necessary kawwanah ("intention," or "direction"), you must be able to imagine the concrete scene in which the rite took place. Portaleone puts great emphasis on this aspect, writing, for example (3b): And now, in order that you may be able to direct (‫ )לכוון‬jour entire being to heaven while you are in your House of Prayer, as if (‫ )כאלו‬you were in that other great and holy House [the Temple] [...]. I will copy for you [...].5

4 5

Shiltey ha-Gibbotym, 2b. Ibid., 3a.

There are many passages of this sort in the Shiltey ha-Gibbotym. The author insists on the need to reproduce a situation of the past mentally, through the imagination, so that the religious acts of the present should have the same effect. The expressions that recur are: "You must imagine being there [in the Temple];" 6 "It will be in our eyes just as if you were there, presenting your offerings." 7 This transfer by the mental recreation of a disappeared situation is more than symbolic: it can be called mystical, because in order to address God in an effective way, according to Portaleone, one has to transport himself in a determined time and space. Once the worshipper is there, his words will be able to transform reality (including God). How to encourage this psychological transfer; how to flesh out, as it were, one's memory? By describing the situation, in this case the Temple, in all its concrete reality. And indeed it is the description of the Temple, which makes up the first part of the book, that will render the second part more effective. For only through visualizing the scene will one be able to read with the right kawwanah and to identify more completely with the worshiper in the Jerusalem of the past. This multiple chain (prayers replace religious actions and sacrifices, study or reading replaces prayer, and study necessitates a description of the place of sacrifice) makes it possible for Portaleone to look at the past in a realistic manner. He undertakes a description of the Temple as it really was, setting aside all allegorical significance: one might say the mystical need to identify with the worshipper of the past leads one to see that past in a historical light. If, in order to "be there" one needs to render the past present, then one has first to reconstruct it faithfully. T o this end, Portaleone mobilizes his remarkable knowledge of science, history and philology, to reconstitute the Temple and its site as they actually were. In doing so, he composes a series of treatises typical of the scholarship of his time, speaking of music when he describes the songs of the Levites, of botany when he comes to the offerings of incense, and so on. In his treatment of these subjects, Portaleone juxtaposes traditional Jewish science—from the Talmud through Maimonides to the most recent commentators—and modern seience, including naturally a great many references to ancient science, Greek, Latin and Arabic. We will return later on to this idea of inserting modern content with a religious aim. It is interesting to note, before proceeding with this analysis, that Portaleone's approach, that is, of recreating the scene of the religious event of the past so that the religious practice of the present should be well-oriented (have the right kawwanaB), closely resembles that of the spiritual exercises of Ignatius Loyola (1491-1556), the founder of the Jesuit Order. 8 I will cite as an example the preamble to the first exercise: 6 7 8

Ibid., 101a. Ibid. Cf. D e Nicolas, A. T. 1986. Ignatius de Loyola, powers of imagining: a philosophical hermeneutic of imagining through the collected works of Ignatius de Loyola, with a translation of these works. Albany: State University of New York Press.

The First Prelude is a composition, seeing the place. Here it is to be noted that, in a visible contemplation or meditation—as, for instance, when one contemplates Christ our Lord, Who is visible—the composition will be to see with the sight of the imagination the corporeal place where the thing is found which I want to contemplate. I say the corporeal place, as for instance, a Tempie or Mountain where Jesus Christ or Our Lady is found, according to what I want to contemplate. 9

Speaking of these exercises, Roland Barthes uses the term "transferential relation." 10 The expression "to see with the eyes of the imagination," which occurs repeatedly in the preambles of the spiritual exercises is identical to the expression used by Portaleone. We will also see that the second part of the Spiritual Exercises consists of a collection of quotations from the Gospels, following the life of Christ from the Annunciation to the Ascension: these are the Mysteries of the Life of Christ our Lord. It is very tempting to see a parallel between this second part of Spiritual Exercises and the Shiltey ha-Gibbotym. Much water has flowed under the bridge since Avraham Melamed, in his fundamental study in 1976 on the political thought of Italian Jews in the Renaissance, argued for a parallelism between Portaleone and some Jesuit authors on the subject of political theory. 11 But parallel does not mean identical, quite the contrary: only by bringing out the points that two conceptions have in common can one pinpoint the differences. It is not insignificant, for example, that for Ignatius Loyola it is the historic figure of Jesus Christ, his life, that opens the spiritual exercise, whereas for Avraham Portaleone it is the Temple of Jerusalem and its site. We have pointed out the somewhat paradoxical mixture of traditionalism and "modern" spirit, of mystical piety and recourse to the secular sciences that makes the Shiltey ha-Gibbotym such an unusual work. It had particular success with Catholic and Protestant scholars who found it a mine of information on Antiquitates hebraicae. In the 18th century, whole passages of the Shiltey haGibborym were translated into Latin. 12

9

10

11

12

Fleming, D. L. 1978. The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading. St Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 32. Saint Ignace de Loyola, Exercices spirituels. Traduits de l'espagnol par J. Ristat. Préface de R. Barthes. Paris 1972, 48. Melamed, A. 1976. Wisdom's little sister. Unpublished Ph. D. Thesis (Hebr.). University of Tel Aviv. Cf. my "Le mythe du politique chez les Juifs italiens des Cités." In Politik und Religion im Judentum. Ed. Ch. Miething. Romania Judaica Band IV, Tübingen, forthcoming; cf. also Miletto, G. "Die Bibel als Handbuch der Kriegskunst nach der Interpretation Portaleones." In Proceedings of the Conference Judentum und cristliche Renaissance, Wittenberg 28-30 june 1998, forthcoming. Ugolini, B. 1744—1769. Thesaurus antiquitatum sacrarum [...] opuscula in quibus veterum Hebraeorum mores, leges, instituta, rituus sacri et civiles il/ustrantur. Venice: J. G. Herthz. Cf. 1" volume, sub initio: "Commentarius de Templo Hierosolomytano ex R. Abrahami ben David Seilte Haggiborim excerptus maximam huius Voluminis partem amplectetur, in quo tanta sese ubique offert rerum praestanda et erudido, ut merito ceteris, qui hoc argumentum illustarunt, preferendus esse videatur." Cf. also Opitio, J. H. 1708. Disquisitio Historico-Philo/ogica de Candelabri Mosaici Admirabili Structura ... Jena: Joh. Phil. Lindner, where Portaleone's Shiltey ha-Gibborym is often quoted. For other quotadons and commentaries of the book, cf. Fürst, J. 1863. Bibliotheca Judaica. Leipzig, vol. 3, 114. A more recent, interesting judgement is in Beugnot, A.-A. 1824. Les Juifs d'Occident, ou Re-

Portaleone's approach was indeed so unusual that Avraham Melamed in the above-mentioned study (which to date is the only research of any depth that has been done on this work, and then only on a specific aspect of it) puts forth the hypothesis that the real aim of the Shiltey ha-Gibborym is to transmit modern knowledge under the cover of pious intentions. Christian censorship, as well as Jewish self-censorship, was much in force; it was not a time to advocate harmony between rational and religious attitudes. Whence the precautions taken by Portaleone who, to express his rational and "modern" knowledge, has to advance in a disguised form, much as Descartes did later on. Portaleone's project, therefore, attempted to modernize Jewish culture by bringing in new content in a form that would be more palatable to the traditionalists. It is impossible, of course, to settle this question with any certainty. I will however present an example of this mixture of traditional aims and mystical content. Then I will propose a comparison with the Portaleone's Latin book, De auro dialogi très, which will show more clearly the particularity of the Shiltey haGibbotym. The example is taken from the very first pages of Portaleone's Hebrew work. It is a description of punctuation inserted into the broadest description of alphabets known at that time, a prelude that the author deemed necessary before plunging into the real work of scholarship. Speaking of the Latin alphabet, Portaleone states that there is no need to reproduce it typographically in order to describe it, as—he writes—"all the children of our people know it perfecdy, in both its printed and its cursive versions." But punctuation did need to be explained. Portaleone explains to his readers the name, shape and function of the main punctuation marks, that is, the comma, the colon and the full stop or period. He gives their names in Greek and Latin (carefully spelling them in Hebrew) then in Italian. Then, to insure better understanding, he describes their function, taking as reference the te'amim, the cantülation signs of traditional Bible reading. In the same spirit as we find in the Ku%ari of Yehuda Halevy, he seizes the opportunity to proclaim that the te'amim were prior to the Latin signs. T o make sure he will be correctly understood, he cites a long biblical verse (Deut 12:11) into which he inserts Latin punctuation marks. He supposes that the reader, familiar with the Masoretic text, will learn the Latin signs by associating them with the te 'amim. I find this procedure both complex and strange. It is unlikely that the readers for whom the Shiltey ha-Gibboiym is intended were not aware of the existence and usage of these signs, as they had been in use in printing for several decades, particularly in Italy and as the educated Italian Jews were perfectly familiar with the culture of the country. Portaleone writes on two levels, one intentional, the other perhaps unintentional. He begins by reducing the basic elements of secucherches sur l'état civil, le commerce et la littérature des Juifs, en France, en Espagne et en Italie, pendant la durée du Moyen Age. Paris: Lachevardière fils, 265-6.

lar culture to Jewish culture. The te'amim of the Torah, according to Jewish tradinon, are revealed, just as its letters. 13 But Portaleone slips over this subject ; what interests him, is not only the fact that they precede latin punctuation, but that they were the model for it, both logically and didactically. This first movement is typical of the fundamentalist attitude in that it reduces external knowledge to traditional knowledge, thus neutralizing it. And Portaleone the penitent was—if we take him at his word—motivated by a fundamentalist piety. But at the same time—and this is the second line of thought—by applying these signs to a biblical verse, he opens the possibility of a reading of the text governed not by the rabia' and atnab but by commas and periods. By bringing the secular into the sacred sphere, in an attempt to reduce the one to the other, he is in fact accomplishing a work of modernization. And if we compare the same verse in Portaleone's punctuated version with those that came out of Protestant circles, one by Antonio Brucioli (in Italian in 1532), another by Pierre Robert Olivétan (in French in 1535), we can judge the effective modernity of Portaleone's version, which is closer to our usual standards. 14 I will conclude with a brief examination of Portaleone's first work, De auro dialogi tres.xs This is a treatise in Latin, in the form of a dialogue, on the medicinal properties of gold, a fundamental subject for the science of the time. After long argumentation, the response of the Jewish doctor is finally negative. Gold has no healing properties. This work is worth studying in the context of the history of science, as the author presents his own scientific ideas and compares them to those of traditional authorities as well as modern authors. Here we should be aware of two aspects. The first is a mistrust of alchemy as a doctrine of occult essences and universal sympathies, close to some aspects of the Cabala. Portaleone—who would later be a great admirer of the cabalist, his contemporary, Menahem Azaria Fano, and would take him as an example when writing his ma'amadothVi— is here suspicious of this kind of mysticism. O n the other hand, he is quite close to the alchemists in their role of experimenters. 17 He creates the character of Dynachrisus, who can be taken as representing himself, and shows him dressed as an alchemist and defying the ironic questions put to him. This form of dress, he explains, is in no way magic, it is merely functional, making it easier to carry out certain chemical experiments. For only on experimentation can truth be founded. 18 13

14

15

16 17

18

Cf. for instance the position of Portaleone's contemporary, the well-known Samuel Archivolti, in his linguistic treatise Arugath ha-bosem, Venice 1603, 92a. For a historical survey of the punctuation in that period, cf. Catach, N. 1994. La Ponctuation. Paris, 28. The only existing analysis of De auro dialogi très is in Thorndike, L. 1929-59. A History of magic and experimental science. New York, vol. 5, 645-647. Shiltey ha-Gibbotym, 3a. Cf. also Ibid. 173b, for a sympathetic judgement of kabbalah. Portaleone's position toward alchemy and experimentadon will be shared later by Francis Bacon. Cf. Advancement of Learning, New York 1900, 19: "The search and endeavors to make gold have brought many useful invendons and instructive experiments to light." De auro dialogi très, 17. Cf. also 17: "Porro si haec, experientia dico, multa nos a primo orto non docuisset, parvum ferme mundanis rebus, inter nos, et radone experda animalia, esset discri-

The motif of experimentation pervades these dialogues, which, as a literary work, are remarkably for their vivacity and wealth of intertextual references. There are many allusions, veiled or not, to Greek and Italian literature, which would be worth researching in their own right.19 The beginning of the third dialogue 20 is particularly significant in this regard. It shows, through a theatrical representation, the impossibility of referring back to tradition in order to find truth. The mystical traditionalism of the repentant Portaleone seems to be clearly in contradiction with the modern-style impatience of the young scientist: Achrivasmus: What are you doing, Ο Dynachrisus, locked away in the depths of the Library so that no matter how hard I knock you do not hear me? Dynachrisus: I am talking with the dead. I conjure them with a particular application. A: O h dear friend! D o you wish to lose your soul? D: May God prevent it! A: Open, I pray. D o not keep me outside any longer. D: Push the doors and they will open at once. A: G o o d day, my Dynachrisus. Oh, how surprising! You have a candle burning in broad daylight. D: That is what the magicians, diviners and enchanters used to do, all those who tried to learn the truth from the dead. A: Are you joking, Dynachrisus, or are you in earnest? What relation have you with the dead? D: I just wanted to see if the dead were strong enough to be of help to me who am alive. But despite all my efforts they do not seem to want to take me under their protection. A: But where are they then, your dead? D: Are you still dulled by sleep? D o you not see the house is full of them? A: Oh, now I understand my ignorance. You were referring to the books! And I thought you were talking to the dead! D: May they stay away from here! There is no kinship between them and me!

Books, the authorities of the past, are therefore mute. 21 Only individual experience can give results that are solid and certain. The contrast with the Shiltey haGibbotym is striking.

19

20 21

men." Cf. 76, where the author derides the blind fidelity to Pline's words. In Shiltey ha-Gibbotym, Portaleone will also "dare" to discuss the traditional masters, but he will do that in a much more caudous way. Cf. for instance the witty allusion to Boccaccio's Decameron at page 21, where Portaleone invites implicitly the reader to look at the tenth "novella" of the ninth day: an extremely obscene one, on a "transformation" which is not really alchemisdc. The reference to Plato's dialogue Eutydemus (88), in a passage in which Dynachrisus (alias Portaleone) is accused to be a sophist, seems to confirm the traditional Christian judgement of the Jewish corpus as "sophistic" literature; but it ends in a rehabilitadon of the character, who despises the material gold and praises the "golden" virtues of morality. De auro dialogi 1res, 89. In 1632—almost fifty years after Portaleone published his Latin dialogues—Galileo Galilei wrote the following, famous words: "Come freely with reasons and demonstrations (yours or Aristode's) and not with textual passages or mere authorities because our discussions are about

It is up to researchers to explain this author's change of attitude between the Latin work of his youth and the Hebrew one written in the last years of his life. Are we in the presence of some sort of fiction in this last book, which is trying to carry modern content into Jewish space while avoiding censorship and mistrust? O r is it a change typical of an era which, troubled by radical and too rapid changes, has difficulty ridding itself of its past? Whatever the case, by his changes of heart, the choice of his subjects and his cultural references, the work of Portaleone represents an important model in the difficult and delicate accession of Jews to modernity.

the sensible world and not about a world of paper." Cf. Finocchiaro, M. A. 1997. Galileo on the World Systems. A New Abridged Translation and Guide. Berkeley/Los Angeles/London, 127.

T H E PROBLEM OF D I V I N E JUSTICE IN SAMUEL D A V I D LUZZATTO'S C O M M E N T A R Y T O T H E DIWAN

OF J E H U D A HALEVI

IRENE KAJON Università degli Studi di Roma "La Sapienza," Italy

At the half of the last century Samuel David Luzzatto edited a collection of sacred hymns and poems of Jehuda Halevi, which he transcribed from a manuscript adventurously arrived in his hands. 1 His edition gave a remarkable impulse to the research about the poetry of this Jewish medieval author: the scholars, who are active after Luzzatto in different environments, consider the results of his work of transcription, vocalization, and explanation as the necessary ground of their own inquiry until our time. 2 But Luzzatto was not only an editor and a competent philologist of Jehuda Halevi's poems; he also presented his most important teachings as a revival and a development of the central thoughts of this poet in some of his writings. 3 Under the influence of Luzzatto's assertions 1

2

3

In 1838 Luzzatto received the manuscript from Eliezer Askenazi, who bought it in Tunis in the same year. O n Askenazi, cfr. Luzzatto's letter of March, 1, 1843 to L. Cantoni in Luzzatto, I. ed. 1881. Catalogo ragionato degli scritti sparst di S. D. hu^atto con riferimcnti agli altri suoi scritti editi e iniditi. Padova. Luzzatto at first published some poems of Jehuda Halevi in Jewish journals (cfr. Calalogo), then edited them in 1840. Betulat Bat Jehudah. Prag, and in 1864. Diwan. Lyck, from which I shall quote. A. Geiger, w h o translated Jehuda Halevi's poems into German (1851 Breslau; reprinted in Geiger, L. ed. 1876. Nachgelassene Schriften. Berlin, III, 97-177), received help from Luzzatto (cfr. Luzzatto's letters of 1851-1852 to A. Geiger in Catalogo ragionato, and in Luzzatto, I. ed. 1878. Index raisonné des Hires de Correspondance de Feu S. D. Lu^~atto, precede d'un Avant-Propos et suivi d'un Essoi de pensées et jugements tirés de ses lettres inédites. Padova). Luzzatto's editorial work is made use of in the collections of medieval Jewish Spanish poetry edited by A. Geiger (1856 Leipzig‫)׳‬, H. Graetz (1862 Breslau), M. Sachs (1901 2. ed. Berlin), and in the edition of Jehuda Halevi's poems by H. Brody (4 vol., 1894-1930 Berlin; reprinted 1971 Westmead, England). Brody's edition is the ground of the editions by S. Bernstein (1944 New York), I. Zemora (1964 Tel Aviv), D o v Jarden (1978 Jerusalem), and of the translations of the poems into English (Salaman, N. ed. 1924 Philadelphia; reprinted 1973 New York), French (Durocher, B. ed. 1985 Paris), and Italian (Cattani, L. ed. 1987 Roma). The first Italian translators and scholars of Jehuda Halevi's poetry pay homage to Luzzatto, his first editor. They include: S. D e Benedetti, whose Jehuda Halevi's Cançoniere appeared in 1871 Pisa; A. Sorani, who placed an essay of Bialik on Jehuda Halevi before his translation of the poems published in 1913 Reggio Emilia; S. Savini, who in 1923 published an article on Jehuda Halevi in II Concilio where he mentioned U. Cassuto as his mentor about this subject. Luzzatto's introductions to his above mentioned collections are reprinted in jehuda Halevi. Selection of Critical Essays on His Poetry. Ed. A. D o r o n 1988: Hakibbutz Hameuchad; and in the Hebrew-French version of Jehuda Halevi's poems, Ed. Y. Arroche and J. G. Valensi. Montpellier, 1988. Cfr. the letter of March, 7, 1839 to G. Brecher, which Brecher included in his edition of Jehuda Halevi's Kuçari according to the Hebrew version of Y. Ibn Tibbon. 1839. Prag, reprinted in S. D. Luzzatto's Hebräische Briefe. Ed. I. Luzzatto, Ε. Graber and D. Kaufmann. 1882. Przemysl, vol. IV, Ν. 235; the letters of July, 8, 1839 to A. Lattes and of December, 6, 1839 to I. S. Reggio in

some researchers have often tried to demonstrate the similarity between his ideas and Jehuda Halevi's ideas.4 O n the contrary the aim of this paper is to point out that the interpreters who stress the affinity between Jehuda Halevi and Luzzatto either do not pay attention to Luzzatto's criticism of Jehuda Halevi, or simply accept the particular interpretation of Jehuda Halevi's thinking given by Luzzatto, which actually is founded on a misunderstanding and therefore is not accurate. Both attitudes of Luzzatto with regard to Jehuda Halevi, i. e. criticism and particular interpretation, are apparent in Luzzatto's commentary to Jehuda Halevi's Diwan in relation to the problem of divine justice. This problem has two different sides: the first side concerns first of all the manner in which a human being who comprehends justice as a divine attribute should see an eventual offense in connection with his own behavior, as a justified event or in some cases as an unjustified event, and then the manner in which this human being should or should not react to this offense; the second side concerns our faith in God as a righteous and benevolent being and our ability to understand the ways which He chooses in order to carry out righteousness and benevolence in the world. Luzzatto criticizes Jehuda Halevi's position with regard to this first side of the problem of divine justice; and he gives a particular interpretation, which misunderstands Jehuda Halevi's words, with regard to this second side. The following two parts of this paper treat both sides of the problem of divine justice, which appear in some of Jehuda Halevi's poems edited by Luzzatto and are discussed in Luzzatto's commentary.

Luzzatto's criticism of Jehuda Halevi's notion of vengeance as an element of divine justice Jehuda Halevi wrote the poem which is the sixth in Luzzatto's edition of the Diwan, when he received some news about the sudden apparition of a Messiah. Luzzatto gives this poem this ride: "Hearing (an idle hearing) that Israel's redemption is near." He thinks that the poet wanted to give other Jews the courage of coming back to Erez Israel through this poem: Far a dove sings well T o W h o m call you give back your good word. Your G o d calls you, quickly Bow down and offer a tribute. T u r n to your nest, to the path of your tent Zion, and raise a sign in your testimony. Your dear w h o exiled you for your bad work He redeems you today, what d o you respond? G e t up and come back to the beautiful land

1890. Epis/olario italiano francese latino di 5. D. Lutgatto pubbhcato da' suoifigti. Padova; the letter of August, 20, 1845 to M. F. Lebrecht in Index Raisonné, 94—96; 1862. Lesjoni di teologia morale israelitica. Padova, Part I, XLVI; 1863. Le^toni di teologia dogmatica israelitica. Trieste, 9, 27, 31. Cfr. Heinemann, I. 1962. La loi dans la pensée juive. De la Bible a Rosenqweig. French version of Ch. Touad, Paris, 167 ff.; Nissim, P. 1966. "Lo studioso e il maestro." Rassegna mensile di Israel sept.oct., 29-41; Klausner J. 1910. "Il carattere, le credenze, le idee." Ibid., 64-102; Lattes D. 1056. "Il poeta." Ibid., 163-173.

Devastate the field of E d o m and the field of Arab. With anger destroy the house of those who destroyed you And build for W h o m loves you a house of love. 5

Luzzatto does not conceal his deep disagreement and uneasiness in front of the antepenultimate and penultimate verses of this poem in his footnotes. He writes in his commentary to those verses: Jehuda Halevi has sucked his faith from the breast of the Bible and from the words of the rabbis (blessed be their memory); but in his poetry he is not free of the way which is characteristic of Ishmaelitic poets and of some Jewish poets prior to him and also affected by Ishmaelitic manners. In fact the Arabs were lovers of wars, seekers of vengeance, and enemies of those who had another cult and they tried either to convert all the nations to their faith or to persecute and to destroy them. Therefore their poets celebrated strength, triumphs and the defeat of enemies. But Israel always was lover of peace, and his only yearning was to live in security under his vineyards and his fig-trees; and Israel never wanted that the other nations converted to Judaism, because his Torah was for him a peculiar property, a particular legacy of Jacob's house. So Jewish poets never celebrated the excellence of strength and vengeance, but only asked G o d to protect His people from his oppressors' hands, and they praised G o d when they were saved from their enemies. The prophets always described future redemption as a divine work, neither in strength nor in power, but in His spirit; they described the nations, among whom Israel was scattered, as their helpers in their return to their fathers' land, and so it was in redemption of Egypt and Babylon ("The nations will take them and bring them toward their place," Is 14:2).

So Luzzatto criticizes the notion of vengeance as an element of divine justice and therefore of human justice, which he finds in this poem of Jehuda Halevi. This concept is described by Luzzatto as a rest of a primitive culture which is very far from Judaism. But it is sound to ask if Luzzatto really understands the reasons that move Jehuda Halevi to maintain this concept. The grounds which explain the position the poet affirms are, indeed, very different from the reasons which Luzzatto makes manifest in his commentary. First of all, in order to understand really these grounds, it is necessary to remind that the antepenultimate and the penultimate verses refer to 2Kings 3:19 (as Luzzatto himself recognizes). It is written in this verse: You will destroy all the fortified towns and all the important towns, cut down all the good trees, fill up all the sources of water, and devastate every good part of land by means of stones.

This prophecy is uttered by Elisha, whom the kings of Judah, Israel and E d o m consult about the result of their war against Moab. About this people in the same chapter it is written that they attacked their enemies when they believed to find them in weakness and distress, and that their king offered his first-born son to gods during the siege of the capital of his kingdom. So the vengeance, to

5

The term " E d o m , " which appears in the antepenultimate verse of this poem, means "Christianity" (cfr. Enc. Jud., entries " E d o m " and "Esau").

whom Jehuda Halevi refers in his poem, does not regard the nations who simply have a faith different from the faith of Israel, as Luzzatto deems in his commentary, but the idolatrous nations who do not accept ethical laws. The fault of the nations who persecute or oppress Israel is not intellectual, but ethical: Jehuda Halevi defends the notion of vengeance in front of these nations because he affirms moral responsibility and freedom of choice between good and evil, and because he connects moral responsibility and freedom to the notions of penalty and justice. Secondly, in order to understand why Jehuda Halevi does not reject vengeance, it is necessary to recall that for him Israel is not only a praying community, as Luzzatto thinks, but an active community too: Jacob's house could hasten redemption if Jacob's house would return into history. Finally, Jehuda Halevi repeats in his poem the Biblical verses about vengeance because he thinks—differendy from Luzzatto—that evil is not only a means for a good aim: certainly, like Luzzatto, he believes that Jewish exile is a means for Jewish purification and therefore mankind's redemption; but he does not believe that this makes Jewish exile completely clear and understandable. If the human being who does an action only is an instrument in God's hands, then he really is not responsible, his deeds always have an explanation as parts of a rational order, and it is impossible to insert punishment in divine justice. O n the contrary, if an action depends on choice which always is not fully transparent, evil never is totally justified and the element of vengeance in justice is understandable. For Jehuda Halevi God remains the creator of good and evil, light and darkness, as He is for the Bible; for Luzzatto God only is the creator of good and light. Therefore there is not an estrangement of Jehuda Halevi from Jewish sources in his poem, as Luzzatto maintains; on the contrary, Luzzatto is far from the Bible exactly because of his thought about God. So the concepts of human freedom and evil which Jehuda Halevi and Luzzatto advocate are extremely different. Their idea of divine and human justice rests on these concepts: Jehuda Halevi thinks that vengeance is a necessary ingredient of divine justice (which eventually could be completed, but never superseded by love for enemies and forgiveness in human history—and the relationship between justice and love is of course a very difficult problem); Luzzatto does not think so. Therefore the modern interpreter criticizes the medieval poet.

Luzzatto's interpretation of the notions of faith and philosophy in Jehuda Halevi The ideas that God alone is a benevolent being, that the world and history are understandable, that evil only is a means for a good end, on which Luzzatto grounds his criticism of the element of vengeance in divine justice, are dear to him from the very beginning of his reflection. One can find these ideas in many points of his commentary to the Diwan of Jehuda Halevi/‫ ׳‬in a juvenile text and in other writings and letters.7 Luzzatto connects these ideas to his concept of 6 7

Cfr. the footnotes to the poems which have the numbers 10, 15, 25, 36. Cfr. the poem of 1818, written at the age of 18, mentioned in the memoirs that were published in German in ]ahrbuch für Israelitin. 1848, reprinted in Italian in 1878-1882. Autobiografia, preceduta

common sense as the faculty which permits human beings to comprehend God's ways, although in a persuasive, rather than in a rigorous and systematic manner: not philosophy, but sound pracdcal judgment understands how Providence works in the world. Luzzatto grounds Jewish faith in the revelation at Sinai on this understanding. With regard to the notions of faith and philosophy Luzzatto states his agreement with Jehuda Halevi only because he gives an interpretation of these notions, which does not correspond to the meanings they actually have in Jehuda Halevi's texts: the medieval philosopher identifies faith with the faith of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the faith of the prophets and of everybody who studies and observes the Torah and the uninterrupted tradition the interpreters build on the Torah; instead Luzzatto identifies faith first of all with the faith of common sense, when it builds a not rigorous metaphysics, and then with the faith in God as the being who gave the unchangeable Torah to all Jewish generations. For Jehuda Halevi philosophy is a strict science of being which certainly does not recognizes revelation, but can be useful as a means of arguing and proving after the reception of revelation; for Luzzatto philosophy is a frivolous science, which claims to investigate methodically what is beyond human power. The meanings which Yehuda Halevi gives to the terms "faith" and "philosophy," how he sees the relationship between these terms, the interpretation of these terms and of this relationship in Jehuda Halevi which Luzzatto offers, the antagonism between Jehuda Halevi and Luzzatto about these points, become apparent if one confronts the Ku%ari* with Luzzatto's writings and letters. 9 The positions of both authors on these subjects also appear in the poem that has the number 31 in Jehuda Halevi's Diwan edited by Luzzatto, and in Luzzatto's footnotes to this poem. This is the poem: Beautiful and good is to raise a camp in Your house For the people where Your name is encamped. da alcune notice storico-letterarie sullafamiglia Lu^atto a datart da/ secolo XVI. Padova (German edition by I. Luzzatto, S. Morais and M. Grunwald 1882, Padua, 87-88); 1848-1852. II Giudaismo illustrato nella sua teorica, nella sua storia e nella sua letteratura. Padova, particularly the essays "Essenza del Giudaismo" and "Lezioni di storia giudaica"; 1857. Discorsi morali agit studenti israeliti. Padova (particularly the talks of May 1833, May 1835, December 1844); Lesjoni di teologia morale israelitica, "Introduzione," XXIV; Leqoni di teologia dogmatica israelitica, 29-30; letters of July, 3, 1839 to I. S. Reggio, of February, 12, 1854 to T. Randegger, of September, 24, 1857 to M. Steinschneider, in Epistolario ita/iano francese latino. 8 9

I, N. 11, 19-25, 63; II, N. 34; III, N. 40-41, 64-67; V, N. 1 - 6 , 13-14. Cfr. II Giudaismo il/ustrato, pardcularly "Essenza del Giudaismo," the Hebrew poem "Derech Eretz ο Atizismus." Sion I, 81-93. March 1841, Italian version under the tide "II falso progresso." By E. Padova; 1863; Pontremoli, 1879. "Atticisme e t j u d a i s m e " (1838). Ossär Nehmad. IV, 131-132; Leqioni di teologia dogmatica israelitica, 13 ff.; "Introduzione critica ed ermeneutica" and "Prefazione" to 1871. Il Pentateuco volgari^ato e commentato. Padova; letters of November 26, 1838, February 21, 1839, May 9, 1839, July 3, 1839 to I. S. Reggio, and of August 24, 1857 to G . Besso, in Epistolario italiano francese latino. About the meaning that Luzzatto gives to "Atticisme" cfr. Autobiografia: he takes the term from D e Jaucourt, who wrote the entry "Paris" in the Ençyclopedie (1765. Dictionnaire Raisonné des Sciences, des Arts et des Metiers. T o m e XI; reprint of the first ed. 1751-1780, 1966 Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt); but D e Jaucourt distinguishes between external politeness and Greek philosophy, which both exist in Athens in different forms than in Paris, while Luzzatto blames all of Greek culture with the excepdon of aesthetics and technical progress.

The name, which stays in eternal height, but He Stays in a broken heart and with a humiliated man. The highest heavens do not hold Him, But He came down to Sinai and was in the bush. His way is very near and very far Because all He did is for being and for an end. A thought is in my heart from my G o d A response is on my tongue from my G o d too.

This is Luzzatto's explanation of the content of this poem: The manner of Your paths is near and far, easy and difficult to understand, because all He does is for an end, for a particular aim which depends on the intention about that thing, and this aim sometimes has a meaning for us, sometimes has not a meaning. Beyond the word "for an end" which is taken from the sentence "All God did, is for an end of His" (Prov 16:4), there is the sentence "in order to be," i. e. there is nothing without a cause, but all is produced by conditions, and every loss changes into a benefit; so all G o d does is for a benefit, and not for a loss or for a damage.

Besides, Luzzatto says about the penultimate and the last verses: "As all the things God created are for an end, also every thought comes from God into my heart, and every word from Him into my tongue." In his poem, as we can observe, Jehuda Halevi sees the relationship between God and human beings, God's presence at Sinai, the miracle of the burning bush, the eternal divine love for Israel as the most important points from which it is possible to ponder on God's paths in the world, however these paths remain very far away and therefore in-comprehensible. O n the contrary, in his notes Luzzatto makes revelation dependent on common sense's knowledge that all is ultimately good, however divine paths are not comprehensible to a rigorous and evident philosophical science. Jehuda Halevi thinks that revelation as a fact is prior to the knowledge of God and the world, and therefore that revelation always happens again in time in different shapes. O n the contrary, Luzzatto thinks that revelation, as it was in the past once and for all, is founded in the knowledge, however an unscientific one, of Creator and creation. But Luzzatto introduces his commentary as if it really would express the meaning of Jehuda Halevi's poem. While the modern interpreter justifies Jewish faith through sound practical intelligence, the medieval poet recognizes Jewish faith as the ground which gives legitimacy to the ideas of creation and redemption, however evil remains dark in its last root.

O N T H E C H R O N O L O G Y OF ELIA DEL M E D I G O ' S PHYSICAL W R I T I N G S JOSEP PUIG MONTADA Universidad Complutense, Madrid, Spain

Elia del Medigo (ca. 1460-1493) is very well known for his Book on the Essence of the Religion, 1 which he wrote after his return to his native Crete. H o w ever his major activity was as a translator of Averroes' Hebrew versions into Latin and as a philosopher commenting on Averroes' writings and following his doctrines. 2 Italy was the place for this twofold activity; we know that in 1480 he set up in Venice and became an active Averroist of the Renaissance scene with his publication of the Qyaestio de ejficientia mundi. Shortly thereafter he began to teach at Padova University but no official records about it are extant. His friendship with Giovanni Pico della Mirandola dates from this year and although in 1482, Pico left Padova for Florence and Elia for Venice, they met again in Florence in 1485. 3 During the years 1481-86, Elia did the double work of translation and commentary o n Averroes' Hebrew writings for his friend and disciple. The essays De primo motore and De esse et essentia et uno as well as his Annotationes to the commentary on the Physics should be mentioned here. For later years, reference must be made to D o m e n i c o Cardinal Grimani, again a disciple and supporter of Elia. 4 Elia rated his work as a commentator much higher than that as translator, as he tells us in the introduction to his commentary on the Metereologica·. T o explain the words of the philosophers is worthier than to translate them from one language into another. 5 Besides he wrote on subjects of importance for his contemporaries, where he continuously relied on quotations of Aristode, Philosophus, and of Averroes, Commentator. 1

2

3

4

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Ed. Reggio, I. S., Vienna 1833 (Repr. Jerusalem 1969). Cridcal ed. Ross, J. J.1984. Tel Aviv: University. English transi. Geffen, M. D. 1970. Faith and Reason in Elijah del Medigo's Behinat h a Dat and the Philosophic Backgrounds of the Work. Columbia University, PhD, 389-462. Three classical works give us relevant information: Dukas, J. 1876. Recherches sur l'histoire littéraire du 15e. siècle (Laurent Maioli, Pic de la Mirandole, Elie del Medigo). Paris. Perles, J. 1884. Beiträge %ur Geschichte der hebräischen und aramäischen Studien. Munich. Cassuto, U. 1918. Gli Ehret a Firen^e nell'età del Rinascimiento. Florence, 282-299. See also Geffen, Faith and Reason, 5-39. For an updated bibliography, see Bartôla, A. 1993. "Eliyahu del Medigo e Giovanni Pico della Mirandola. La testimonianza dei codici vadcani." Rinascimento 33, 253—254. See Kieszkowski, B. 1964. "Les rapports entre Elie del Medigo et Pic de la Mirandole (d'après le ms. lat. 6508 de la Bibliothèque Nadonale)." Rinascimento, Seconda serie, 4, 41-91, and Bartôla, ibid. 253-278. See Paschini, P. 1943. Domenico Grimani, Cardinale di J. Marco (+1523). Storia e Letteratura IV, Rome; for their relationship, 8-9. Quamquam hoc opus difficile atque indignum mihi esse reputo, dignius aliquid est ex dictis philosophorum, et si sit parum, dectarare et intelligere quam de una lingua in atiam libros transfem. In Meteora (Venecia: Andrea de Thoresanis de Asula, anno Domini 1488, die vero 12 idus septembris), fol. 1 r l .

Del Medigo devoted several studies to the philosophy of nature: De primo motore, De effidentia mundi, and Annotationes.'‫ ׳‬I consider the Qyaestio de mundi effidentia as the first in time, although there is a reference at the beginning to a proposition to be made clear, which "has already been made clear in the Qvaestione de primo motore."1 This seems to be a later addition by an editor in the age of printing, because De primo motore is prior to De mundi effidentia in the collection, but there are several reasons for reversing the order chronologically. At the end (Effirientia, f. 136 M) we read finis huius opusculi factum est Venetiis 1480. This is a rather early date, before he met Pico della Mirandola. He promises to discuss the subject in greater extent (magisprolixe) with God's help: for now, he had wished only to write the philosophers' accounts up to that point, adding that "it is known that the way of the Scripture is different from the philosophical way." Asserts like this gained him the reputation of sustaining the double-truth doctrine. In this Qyaestio de mundi effidentia Elia bases his knowledge on Aristode and Averroes, and for the second he mainly uses his treatise De substantia orbis* and his Short, Middle, and Long (Book XII, Lâm) Commentaries on the Metaphysics,9 He sometimes quotes the Long Commentary on De caelo and Ibn Bâjja's totam summam Philosophiae et Eogicae (Effidentia, f. 136 F).10 Therefore the Qvaestio de primo motore should come after De mundi effidentia in time. Geffen places its composition between the end of 1480 and the beginning of 1482." From the foreword reproduced in the editions of 1544 and later ones, it appears that Elia wrote the treatise after a public discussion at the University of Padova which took place in 1480.12 Moreover the sources for his discussion in De primo motore are more numerous. T o those already indicated above, there may be added: a) the Short, Middle and Long Commentaries on the Physics·, b) the Epitome of De caelo‫׳‬, c) idem of Metenologicar, d) Long and Short Commentaries on De anima; e) Averroes' capital

6

For Renaissance editions of Elia's works, see "Continuidad medieval en el Renacimiento: El caso de Elia del Medigo." ha Ciudad de Dios 206 (1993) 51-53. 7 Effidentia, f. 134 H. For all the quotadons I shall use the Venetian edition of Hieronymus Scotus, 1552 as in the copy preserved in the Staatsbibliothek of Munich. 8 In Aristotelis Opera Omnia cum Averrois ... Commentants, Venice: apud Iunctas 1562- 1574, (Repr. Frankfurt 1962) vol. IX, ff. 3-14. From now on, I quote this edidon as Iunctas. Hebrew ed. & English transi, by A. Hyman, Cambridge, Mass.: The Mediaeval Academy of America, 1986. 9 Elia reads Averroes in the Hebrew and Latin versions and he has often translated his works into Latin, as above mentioned. For the inventory of Averroes' commentaries, see Wolfson, H. A. 1973. "Plan for the publicadon of a Corpus commentariorum Averrois in Aristotetem." In his Studies in the History of Philosophy and Religion. Vol. I, Cambridge, Mass., 430-445. 10 Avempace has not a work with such a tide, but many short writings which can be subsumed under a general ride, as in this case seems to happen. For his works see Jamâl a d - D i n al-Alawî, Mu 'aUafât Ihn Rushd. Beirut-Casablanca 1983. 1 ‫ י‬Faith and Reason, 14, note. 12 Qui ohm in hoc Studio Patavino quaestionem banc publice optime disseruit, ed. Venice, apud heredes LuceantoniiJunte, 1544, f. 122 rl. Twice a year, every professor of the Padovan university held a public discussion which was attended by other professors, students and sometimes by the Venetian authorities. With reference to this discussion see Lucchetta, F. 1964. II medico efitosofoBeHunese Andrea Alpago (+ 1522). Padova, 10-11.

book: Destructio destructions,13 and f) De conttexione intellectus abstracti cum homines "Rabi Moysis," i.e. Maimonides, and his Guide of the Perplexed are mentioned (ff. 126 Ρ, 127 Β, 134 Β). Aquinas (f. 126 Κ), with whom he disagrees, and Albert the Great (f. 134 A) also appear, but Del Medigo pays more attention to Burleigh and to the 14 th -century Averroist John of Jandun. 15 Indeed, John is the author of a treatise in which he faces the issue whether the eternal beings have efficient cause, Utrum aeternis repugnet habere causam effirientemu> and this is the issue discussed by Elia in both Quaestiones. In any case, Elia insists that his positions are just a compilation (aggregata) of those of Aristode and Averroes, because he did not take anything from the "Moderns." (Motore, f. 134 G). In sume, we notice a larger bibliographical basis than in the already mentioned Qyaestio de efficientia mundi and, therefore, we may consider De primo motore to be later. N o doubt the Clarisssimae annotations in dictis Averrois super libros Physicorum were written after these two books. At the very beginning he confesses that Giovanni Pico della Mirandola asked him for these notes which he describes as "some things that come to my mind about the book of Phjsicf'u and in which he speaks only as a philosopher. Therefore we have to assume that they were written during the time the two men were together, and in fact, at the end of the notes, he states that the book was finished in Florence in fine Iulij of 1485. The basis of the Annotationes is larger than that of De primo motore, as it adds Averroes' Long Commentary on the Posterior Analytics, and [Middle] Commentaries on the Topics, De generatione et corruptione, his commentaries on the series De animalibus and on Plato's Republic,™ a work that Elia had translated for Pico della Mirandola. 19 O n the other hand, his references to Latini like Burleigh, Grosseteste or even Jandun are many and he often criticizes them for being moved as he is by an interest to reconstruct the true thinking of Averroes. Why did the editor place De primo motore before the Qvaestio de effidentia mundi? Both quaestiones focus on the same issue, whether the First Mover, identified with God, moves the outermost sphere as a final cause or also as an efficient cause, the Agent. However the Qvaestio de effidentia mundi deals with the subject in a less developed form as the Qvaestio de primo motore, which therefore makes the former writing somehow redundant. The editor, or maybe Elia himself, decided to place the De primo motore at the beginning according to its importance. 13

14

15

16

17 18

19

Arabic text of Tahâfut at-Tahâfut ed. by Bouyges, M. 1930. B.A.S. Ill, Beirut; English transi, by Van den Bergh, S. 1954. 2 vols. Oxford; medieval Latin version ed. by Zedier, Β. 1961. Milwaukee, Wise. Latin, in the mendoned edidon of Aristode and Averroes' works (Note 11): apud Iunctas, vol. IX, folios 155 ff. Hebrew text with English transi, by Kaiman, P. B. 1982. The Epistle of the Possibility of Conjunction with the Active Intellect by Ihn Rushd. New York. For his biography and works, see Schmugge, L. 1966. Johannes von Jandun (1285/89-1328). Stuttgart. Edited by Maurer A. 1955. "John of Jandun and the Divine Causality." Mediaeval Studies 17, 197207. Aliqua quae circa Librum Physicorum mihi apparent (Annotationes, f. 138 F). Averroè: Parafrasi della "Repubblica" nella tradusjone latina di Elia de!Medigo. Ed. A. Coviello and P. E. Fornaccioni. 1992. Florence. ... dedaratum est a Piatone in suo de Regtmine ciuitatis; et ab Averroi in commentario vnius Hbri, quern tradu.xi vobis de hebraico in latinum (Annotationes, f. 138 G; also 150 A).

LA SABIDURÍA ÉTICA DE SPINOZA EN PERSPECTIVA HISTÔRICA RAMÔN RODRÎGUEZ AGUILERA Universidad de Sevilla, Spain

Libertad como liberation e incremento de la potencia humana: pero con escaso control de la acciôn externa Objetivo central de Spinoza era mostrar c o m o posible y deseable un aprendizaje de la libertad humana, polémicamente sostenido entonces en contra del sentido religioso trascendental de la vida. El ser humano, segûn Spinoza, dene una capacidad de liberarse gradualmente de la dependencia exterior inercial, en la que se halla inserto como ser finito y sensible, llegando a ser cada vez más activo y autônomo, llegando a tener cada vez más "realidad," ο "perfecciôn." Ser libre equivale a incrementar una potencia humana natural, actuando cada vez más por fines propios, reconocibles por la razôn. La consecuencia más inmediata de esta forma de libertad es la felicidad 0 gozo que acompana a una vida virtuosa y a la experiencia de la verdad·. una especie de serenidad ο seguridad vital, de certe^a intelectuai y emodva a la vez. Para alcanzar esta genuina forma de "salvaciôn" (terrenal ο intelectual), es decir, esta forma de vida, a un uempo, libre y feliz, piadosa y prospéra, virtuosa y sabia, habria que comenzar desprendiéndose de la falsa creencia ("supersdciosa") de que existe un más allà del m u n d o natural: con un supuesto origen (temporal) en la voluntad de un Dios creador y espiritual, y con una meta de salvaciôn, después de la muerte, reservada a un aima humana inmortal. Conciliando, en la conducta présente ο en la actual relaciôn vital con la Naturaleza, la satisfacciôn del propio deseo y de las exigencias de los afectos (como una fuerza constructiva, en principio, y no como un mal menor), con el uso de la inte/igencia y de la ra%pn, en una esforzada búsqueda de equilibrio interior ο personal. Y siempre, de manera parcial y graduai: pues, segûn Spinoza, nada ni nadie escapa de la necesidad lôgica del mundo, ni logramos nunca un control ο dominio completo de nuestros actos. Ahora bien, esta bûsqueda constante de una seguridad racional—calificable, por su objetivo final, de "absoluta"—en un m u n d o natural, considerado por Spinoza como expresiôn temporal de una Sustancia inalterable y eterna, no deberia convertirse en otra forma de huida ο de desvalorizaciôn del m u n d o real e inmediato, donde transcurre la vida humana, con sus cambios incesantes, su dolor, inseguridades e insatisfacciones inevitables. Ni tampoco debería implicar una mera integraciôn, ο adaptaciôn pasiva—ο activa solo a través de la razôn ο el entendimiento—en un m u n d o considerado c o m o ya dado, prefijado ο "cerrado," pues se excluiria entonces el desarrollo de una individualidad humana concreta y toda posible novedad ο innovaciôn interior ο exterior. Spinoza no incu-

rre, por supuesto, en este determinismo fatalista. Pero, para marcar ya—en coincidencia con Dewey—una primera distancia cridca respecto de él: su novedosa metafísica inmanente y naturalista tampoco inaugura un mundo propiamente "abierto," tal y como ha comenzado a ser posible solo a partir de la revoluciôn industrial y la libertad moderna, es decir, con la activa modificaciôn, ο "liberaciôn," del propio sujeto en su interaction con el medio natural y social. El naturalismo metafisico y ético de Spinoza, anclado en una divinidad trascendente respecto del mundo de las cosas creadas, no se puede subsumir, sin más, en la clàsica dicotomia ontolôgica de la necesidad eterna y de la contingencia temporal: pues la Sustancia (divina) es ahora inseparable de su efecto (mundano). Por eso, esta forma de inmanentismo teolôgico (que no de ateismo, ni propiamente de panteismo) abre una nueva perspectiva vital, una relation "mental" del sujeto con el Universo, que lo distingue de sus precedentes medievales. Inaugura un tipo de seguridad vital nuevo, de claras consecuencias sociales y politicas, en parte, a su vez, como consecuencia de su critica consciente y bien argumentada de la disposiciôn religiosa trascendental (judia ο cristiana), y como consecuencia, precisamente, de su sincera religiosidad y ansia de salvaciôn eterna. El teismo tradicional, con su prestigio y su poder, pero también con su artificio y "necedad," se fue quedando sin razones filosôficas y sin programa práctico, convirtiéndose más bien en un obstâculo para preservar una "verdadera fe." Sus fines morales contrariaban las exigencias de la naturaleza humana y del orden social emergente. Taies fines, absolutizados, eran también fuentes existenciales de temor y de engano, esto es, del miedo al castigo divino ο social y de la esperanza de un lejano premio futuro separados de la utilidad real de evitar males mayores ο de conseguir bienes mayores. Spinoza supo mostrar, en aquellas circunstancias, lo que más convenia, ο lo que convenia verdaderamente, al individuo y al Estado: la virtud de la feliridad, gozo ο beatitud interior, y la virtud de la pa%rivily la seguridad. Y argumenté, con persuasiva lôgica que existia una relaciôn intrínseca entre la utilidad de la "comunidad" socio-politica y la utilidad del individuo, considerado una "parte" de la sociedad. La seguridad del Estado no consistía ya, en su concepciôn, en la simple evitaciôn de la guerra ο en la mera sujeciôn de esclavos obedientes, sino que se asentaba en la misma seguridad de la vida (Tratado Politico, cap. V). Así, el principio de "legitimidad" del Estado—como vendría más tarde a denominarse—arraigaba ya, al igual que la posibilidad de la libertad individual, en el principio ontolôgico de la necesidad natural, rompiendo asi, decisivamente, con la arbitrariedad de la fortuna ο la veleidad de la voluntad. El transcurrir histôrico se encargaría de demostrar que el control legal e institucional de la coacciôn y la Justicia, asi como el bienestar material, la felicidad, el amor y la amistad, serian a la larga fines, resortes y môviles más eficientes y estables que los valores "trascendentales," utilizados de hecho por un poder grupal confesional, a veces sectario, y asociados siempre al miedo ο a la venganza, separândose en fin de los intereses de todos, de la razôn comûn y hasta de ley misma. Lo que para una mentalidad tradicionalista ο "popular" pudo ser visto entonces como una mera critica interna y hasta destructiva de un pasado noble y sagrado, iniciaba—con Spinoza en su relaciôn particular con las innovaciones postrenacentistas y reformistas de su época—un nuevo talante humano e

intellectual, con el que todavia, pese a su notable "idealismo metafïsico" ο a su "mentalismo" interior ο racionalista, es posible dialogar, criticamente, y no solo establecer una distancia histôrica. Dios (redefinido por Spinoza como Sustancia eterna e intemporal en relaciôn con sus "modos" temporales, anâlogamente a como el Dios de las Escrituras habia sido definido con frecuencia en relaciôn contigua con las cosas creadas) seguia siendo la realidad ultima existente, ο el sustento de toda la realidad, y, por tanto también, el supremo valor ο bien supremo. Pero, adviértase el cambio semántico: Dios es, ciertamente, causa de todo, y también de la vida humana, pero no el sentido de la vida humana. Es ya la insobornable fe del creyente, con su perspecriva racio-vitalista autônoma, la que créa el sentido .de la realidad y de la propia vida. Dios (realidad a la vez trascendente e inmanente), objeto del conocimiento verdadero y del amor intelectual, se hace de hecho inseparable de esta disposiciôn humana, del "afecto" intelectual y activo que serena y fortalece el ànimo. El aprendi^aje efectivo de un nuevo sentido de la libertad racional y de la felicidad del sabio spinozista, ο del propio Spinoza, no se retrae ya, por tanto, a un mundo aislado y / ο comunitario de la sola fe, ο a un recinto de mera contemplaciôn ociosa, ni se reduce tampoco a una funciôn social de privilegio. Esta forma de fe religiosa e intelectualista, heredada del pasado y reafirmada a contracorriente, constituye de hecho un tipo nuevo de interioridad que corre en paralelo y en concomitancia con el surgir histôrico, minoritario, pero significativo, del moderno espiritu cientifico y artistico y de la formation inicial del ciudadano a partir del sùbdito, que ya no es esclavo (ni psicolôgico ni social), pues obedece al Estado y a la ley civil también por su propia utilidad. Asi, pues, en aquel mundo histôrico en cambio estructural por efecto del desarrollo material e intelectual, la nueva orientation ética de Spinoza era innovadora y funcional principalmente en estos dos aspectos: 1. Frente al trascendentalismo teolôgico, ο incluso frente a cualquier forma nueva de utôpico idealismo, falsamente critico e inaplicable, la justification naturalista de los valores y de las normas situaba, con eficacia, los fines humanos en el lugar pertinente de la action. Aunque la action humana era todavia, ciertamente, una action pnncipalmente interna, esto es, una prolongation de las actitudes "mentales" ο de la "union" de la mente con la Naturaleza, la conducta humana se comprendia como un conjunto peculiar de hechos naturales sometidos a las leyes mecánicas generales, y en relation con las instituciones sociales y poh'ricas. La modernidad se avistaba entonces con el lema todavia medieval "el ser es el valor," pero ello ya no significaba que el "valor" fuese todavia una cualidad objetiva del Ser, ni que fuese inherente a las cosas mismas, y ni siquiera un atributo intrinseco a la naturaleza del alma ο de la mente (Etica, III, 9, esc.; Ε, IV, 37, esc. 2), sino más bien que todo deber-ser, conforme al que la action se orienta, presupone no un fin trascendente, sino una causa, un ser real, y en particular un ser vivo, un sujeto que piensa, desea y évalua, es decir, que establece activamente una relaciôn practica de su cuerpo y su mente con las cosas, y acaso con los demás sujetos. Por eso, el mal mismo, en que se puede incurrir, no es sino "la privation de un estado más perfecto" y posible que el ser humano pierde por las acciones

errôneas que daiian ο menoscaban su potencia natural, es decir, su propia capacidad de ser, perdurar y actuar (Carta 19, E, III, 7, 9,11, etc.) 2. Para desarrollar (plenamente, y hasta de un modo excelente) esta potencia inmanente de ser en relaciôn abierta con el mundo natural, era necesaria una concepciôn de la identidad humana que conciliase la dimension volitiva e intelectiva de la action y de la vida humana misma. Aunque en esta "antropologia" spinoziana la voluntad propiamente dicha no cumplia todavia y con claridad la funciôn activa que en principio le corresponde, esto es, de poder cambiar también las condiciones externas de la action humana, la reconciliation de los afectos ο emotiones con la razôn cognoscitiva e intuitiva otorgaba, ante todo, sinceridad "cordial" y enérgica vitalidad a la vida practica humana. Sin embargo, la original formulation metafisica de esta compenetraciôn entre el conocer y el hacer ve disminuido su acierto novedoso al reducirse al nivel de la acciôn 0 disposition mental,, a la consecution de una plenitud ο serenidad interior, respecto de la que habria medir ο evaluar todas las demâs formas de acciôn. Ello situa esta sabiduria ética en buena medida todavia en un mundo histôrico "premoderno," y en particular "pretecnolôgico," aunque el sujeto comience a aprender a auto-controlar reflexivamente la utilidad y el placer de su propia conducta. Estos dos rasgos senalados, la incorporation de los valores a la acciôn del sujeto (1) y la conciliation de lo racional y lo afectivo-volitivo (2), deciden, pues, la portion de novedad y las limitaciones de la position ética de Spinoza. Por un lado, la orientation externa de la acciôn interior distingue a Spinoza del budismo ο del estoicismo clàsico, y lo convierte, a su modo, en un critico avant la lettre del subjetivismo individualista, que tenderia a escatimar la dimensiôn ontolôgica, objetdva ο real de los valores, por ejemplo, bajo las formas del moralismo intentional, del monismo liberal individualista, ο del posterior emotivismo moral ο formalismo juridico extremo. Por otro lado, en cuanto la acciôn se halla orientada solo desde la actividad mental interior, el sujeto no actûa de hecho en reciproca interaction con el entorno (natural ο especificamente humano) esto es, no incorpora positivamente las circunstancias ο "medios" externos hasta convertirlos, en algunos casos, en "finés" propios de su acciôn. Es decir, el control "voluntario" no se extiende, expresa y claramente, a todas las consecuencias de la acciôn. Pese a sus ambivalencias y limitaciones, résulta todavia un valor imprescindible la nueva relaciôn intrinseca entre la "salvation" del individuo y la "salvaciôn del pueblo." El relativo autocontrol de la conducta individual corre en paralelo con el incremento también graduai de la autonomia y la seguridad de la sociedad. Las pasiones encontradas tienden a conciliarse también en la conducta social, a través de la regulation legal y a través de la education cultural. Equilibrio éste, entre el sentido ético de la acciôn individual y el sentido ético de la acciôn del Estado, que se mantiene por encima de la dualidad, tan marcada en el pensamiento de Spinoza, entre el ideal de autosuficiencia del sabio, activo, sereno y consciente de sus relaciones sociales, y la mayor dependencia y pasividad del vulgo ο de la masa, que practica la virtud sin conocimiento racional y que acaso a escapa de manera instintiva y tumultuosa del ordenamiento religioso ο social

tradicional, obedeciendo al nuevo Estado más por la pasiôn que por la razôn. Pero, en el nuevo Estado civil se abririan a la larga nuevos cauces de pardcipaciôn institucional y se iniciaría la formaciôn de una cierta opinion publica por encima de las iglesias ο confesiones. En ultima instancia, se trata de una dualidad sociolôgica (sabio/masa) estable, pero no histôricamente inalterable, dada la comûn naturaleza humana, cuyo dinamismo histôrico el propio Spinoza no liega, sin embargo, a hacer explicito. Empenado ante todo en resolver el problema de su felicidad y / o de su salvaciôn eterna, acomeriô Spinoza una nueva "reforma de la mente," que acabô convirtiéndose de hecho en una invitaciôn dirigida, en primer lugar, a la minoria dirigente y más capaz, politica y culturalmente de Holanda y de Europa: "el hombre que se guia por la razôn es más libre en el Estado, donde vive segûn las leyes que obligan a todos, que en soledad, donde solo se obedece a si mismo" (Ε, IV, 73). El nuevo sentido de la moral y de la justicia exigirian ya la éliminaciôn de todo odio reactivo, hasta el punto que una sentencia judicial guiada por la pasiôn y no por la ley pasaria a considerarse ya como una forma de venganza. Como una consecuencia indirecta, pero explicita, pues, de unir la fe judaica recibida con el ideal ético racional del Amor intelectual a Dios, se creô una conexiôn material entre las exigencias de la ley y de la justicia y la fuerza ética del amor (personal y social), de la que no tenia noticia la humanidad anteriormente. Y de hecho, el proceso general "civilizatorio occidental," aunque no por influencia destacada de Spinoza, ha respondido también a algunos de los rasgos de esta forma de aprendizaje conductual y moral de la libertad, que afectaba desigualmente al sabio y a la masa. Una creciente autorientaciôn psiquica de los individuos, con una menor incidencia del miedo y la esperanza de origen "trascendental," sucediô ο acompanô a la centralization politica de la coacciôn social (Norbert Elias). A largo plazo, la libertad como aprendizaje en la autorregulaciôn de la vida, como incremento de la potencia y autonomia, individual y social (también politica) ha sido también un hecho histôrico.

La libertad como poder y el derecho del poder: las dificultades de un realismo normativo metafisico. La libertad "politica," entendida como libertad de pensamiento y de expresiôn y como "verdadero fin del Estado" (7TP, cap. XX), se asienta en la misma necesidad y en la misma facultad, capacidad ο derecho natural de cada cual de autoafirmarse y de usar su razôn como efecto temporal de una esencia eterna. El individuo solo ο aislado no puede sobrevivir materialmente, ni desarrollar su socialidad natural, ni conducir virtuosamente su vida. Por convencimiento espontaneo ο por la fuerza, acaba transfiriendo parte de su derecho natural al Estado. Ahora bien, en el nuevo orden social y politico ya no podrà con impunidad combatir a los demás con odios, iras ο enganos, ni rebelarse contra el Estado aunque sea injusto, pues solo el "supremo poder" tiene entonces el "supremo derecho" sobre cada sûbdito, a través de preceptos y de acciones que buscan la utilidad de todos y su consentimiento. (TTP, cap. XVI). Existe, pues, pese al cambio de situation ο estado, una transiàôn ontolôgica continua entre el derecho ο

capacidad natural de cada cual de hacer en principio todo cuanto puede hacer, sin más criterios que quererlo y poderlo hacer, y el derecho comiin de todo el Estado, que puede decidir "en virtud de una decision ο acuerdo unánime" lo que es bueno y lo que es malo, lo que es legal ο legitimo y lo que no lo es, e imponer por tanto la obediencia, de buen grado ο a la fuerza (TP, cap. II, & 19). La fuerza inercial natural ontolôgico-modal (vis ο conatus) tiende a preservarse y durar en la existencia individual y en el orden social donde esta existencia se desarrolla. ^Résulta aceptable (por nosotros y hoy dia) esta continuidad entre dos niveles claramente heterogéneos de la acciôn, es decir, entre su determinaciôn individual y su alcance social, y por tanto también, entre la libertad entendida como un hecho y la libertad entendida como valor? Tal continuidad parece desde luego más razonable desde el punto de vista de la genealogia evolutiva: en la génesis histôrica del Estado alguna continuidad real comparten la acciôn humana individual en el "estado de naturaleza" y la acciôn individual y social en el orden socio-politico. Pero nos résulta más problemâtica desde el punto de vista de la "justification" del valor de la libertad. Pero, en rigor, Spinoza no se propone dar "justification" alguna: expresa sin más una preferencia ο conveniencia efectivas. Los valores surgen, ciertamente, como realidades sociales, como hechos, ipero, cuando ο por qué deben seguir existiendo? <<Εη qué condiciones ο cuâles de entre ellos es moralmente deseable que se consoliden? Este no parece ser un problema para Spinoza. Su objetivo ha sido mostrar que el "arbitrio humano," el poder de la mente, e incluso el sentido de responsabilidad, son hechos naturales y forman parte del poder de la Naturaleza. Ahora bien: si además de poder hacer algo el individuo (segûn Spinoza por su nudo "poder" ο "derecho natural"), nos pronunciamos acerca de si "es bueno" ο "es legal" que asi lo haga, estamos haciendo ya referencia a un valor moral y una norma politica que es siempre una espedfica creation social y moral, ο una creation del individuo en la sociedad organizada, quizás incluso politicamente. Spinoza acierta, en principio, al enunciar que el "supremo poder es el supremo derecho," y digamos, no al rêvés—pues, el supremo derecho no tiene por qué ser el supremo poder, aunque en este caso, según Spinoza, ya no seria derecho alguno—Se trata de una delimitation más histôrica que lôgica ο conceptual: todavia no se podia constatar ni, por tanto, argumentar por qué, ο en qué condiciones, ο bajo que condiciones, el "supremo derecho" del Estado de be seguir teniendo "poder" ο "ser el supremo poder" para "ser," precisamente, tal derecho efectivo, y no como mera fuerza ο realidad. A pesar de ello, la filosofia politica de Spinoza, ο su teoria del Estado, no es, obviamente, meramente descriptiva, sino que incluye explicitamente también valores y principios normativos. E n aquel mundo sociocultural fragmentado, que no, en rigor pluralista, la libertad individual se abria paso como un valioso hecho (psico-natural y social). De ahi que el pado constitutivo del Estado sea a la vez, y de manera indiscernible, un hecho y un criteria normativo. Se basa en una utilidad sodal y cumple, coactivamente, una funciôn positiva para la vida humana. Instituye el "supremo derecho" del Estado y los derechos y la libertad de los individuos. Al investigar (en el TP, y en el TTP) las ventajas y las mejores instituciones de cada Forma de Gobierno, Monarquia, Aristocracia y Democracia,

mostrando sus preferencias por esta ultima, précisa cuâles son los principles prácticos normatives·, unos que hacen referenda al ejercicio de la libertad individual (sus intereses y su libertad de pensamiento), otros que denen por objeto los interés comunes (el bienestar, la concordia civil y los hâbitos sociales), y otros que pudiéramos llamar pro-constitucionales (formas de representaciôn y de control, una cierta division empirica de algunas funciones politicas y el fomento en general de un cierto equilibrio interno en el poder institucional del Estado). Pues bien, aunque la "moralidad," como criterio y no como mero hecho natural, se exprese también en las interacciones sociales y en los hâbitos de conducta, e incumba efectivamente a la acciôn del individuo, no es primariamente, segûn Spinoza, una determinaciôn social, sino politica, ο es social en tanto que politica. En efecto, la normatividad juridico-poL'tica no era entonces la exigencia imperativa de una sociedad civil propiamente dicha, todavia en ciernes. Al contrario, para que la sociedad holandesa llegase articularse ο cuajar como sociedad civil necesitaba previamente una regulaciôn ο una ley civil de origen politicoestatal. Y para asegurar la unicidad y la vigencia de la ley pûblica se requeria, y ésta es la posiciôn expresa de Spinoza, una extraordinaria concentraciôn de poder estatal absoluto, incluyendo el control de la doctrina y del culto externo hasta niveles claramente autoritarios, y, desde el punto de vista del posterior liberalismo constitucional, incompatibles con la sincera y efectiva defensa de la libertad de pensamiento y de expresiôn. Es verdad que su "absolutismo" politico tiene un claro componente liberal, que la forma más auténtica de la soberania y la que permite la participaciôn de todos es la "democrâtica," y que, siguiendo la cultura hebraica, la politica tiene finalmente un objetivo moral interno, pero el poder politico se constituye como el creador decisivo del orden social y de sus valores.

Un mundo vivencial e histôrico, todavia aleccionador Finalmente, llama, en principio, la atenciôn que no se recurra de una manera positiva y directa a la compasiôn, es decir, a la simpatia moral con el dolor ajeno, semejante al "mio" propio, y que nos hace companeros inseparables de "nuestras" vidas mortales. 1 La compasiôn ο conmiseraciôn, de suyo "mala e inûtil" para quien vive bajo la guia de la razôn (Ε, IV, 50), sirve solo, en efecto, para poner limites ο frenos a la indiferencia inhumana, ο para evitar la posible inhumanidad con los semejantes. Pero la motivaciôn, el resorte y la orientaciôn decisiva de las actitudes vitales arraigan siempre en el deseo activo, es decir, parten de los afectos de la alegria y el amor radicados, segûn Spinoza, como una propension ûltima e inagotable de la Naturaleza humana. Este naturalismo antropolôgico "optimista" y hasta "providencial," con su base sicolôgica ο mental y su alcance sociolôgico, y acorde con la nociôn meta fisica de sustancia autosuficiente y con la raiz interior ο "egoista" de la conducta, expresaba en la época una critica cultural al platonismo cristiano moralista, y en particular al "dolorismo" catôlico de la Redenciôn. Cuando, a lo largo de los siglos XIX y XX se normalicen los derechos iguales para todos, la psicologia moArteta, A. 1996. La compasiôn. Barcelona.

ral occidental (incluida la propia filosofia de inspiraciôn "judía") será cada vez menos "trascendental," más igualitaria y no tan unidireccional como pensaba Spinoza. Las relaciones afectivas entre personas libres ya no tendrán que postergar, en la forma sugerida por Spinoza, el lado doloroso de la vida humana. Pues la mayor concordancia afectiva y racional hace que la compasiôn por el dolor de los semejantes revierta fáci1mente en posidva solidaridad, al igual que el sentimiento de culpa no tiene por qué degenerar en triste autoinculpaciôn, sino en un sentido de responsabilidad, que va más allà de los limites de la acciôn propia e inmediata. En esta situaciôn quizás más "ciudadanos" aprendan a ser sabios, en el sentido Spinoziano. Ο quizás, protegidos por el Estado, no sientan la urgencia de serlo, pues el Estado mismo se autonomiza más respecto de las exigencias de la "felicidad individual" ο del entonces considerado "bien privado." El Estado de Spinoza no habia precisado su especifica funciôn social, ni carecia de una nociôn normativa de derecho natural como valor garantizado con independencia del poder. Lo prioritario y urgente era entonces era una determinada perspectiva moral y vital y metafisica de la politica, que se corresponde, además, con un predominio politico-temporal sobre la moral religiosa ο espirituai individual. Con exclusion de toda anarquia y rebeliôn, y de cualquier tipo de "desobediencia civil individualista"—pudiéramos decir hoy. El individuo solo pone al Estado una barrera de autonomia individual sobre todo en la "facultad de juzgar," de acuerdo con su filosofia ο religion de la razôn (TP, cap. III, & 8,10). El principio activo de legitimaciôn politica en aquella situaciôn histôrica envolvente de tipo "republicano-aristocrâtica" no podia ser obviamente todavia el principio liberal-democrâtico. Por ello, las nociones de libertad y ley politica, vislumbradas ya en el horizonte de le época de Spinoza, no poseian todavia su plena capacidad y eficacia: la ley no garantizaba la libertad de todos como un derecho. Si el principio de la ley, del derecho, de la justicia ο la libertad, entraba en conflicto con el poder, y su utilidad funcional, Spinoza opta, de manera pragmâtico-realista, por la preservaciôn del poder y la efectividad ο eficacia de sus acciones. Concebia, y preferia ya la paz civil basada en la ley racional y en el desarrollo de libertad individual (en particular, de libertad del pensamiento y de expresiôn), pero en su misma metafisica naturalista no tenia sentido separar el poder (fisico-politico) y las normas juridico-morales. Un mundo en el que la libertad no es todavia el fundamento expreso y la finalidad normativa de la ley publica y de la acciôn del Estado, es un mundo socialmente inseguro y éticamente insatisfactorio. El descubrimiento ο la creaciôn de las condiciones estructurales en que el imperio de la ley, basado en el hecho y en el valor de la libertad individual, contiene, ο puede contener, la mayor utilidad individual y social compatibles entre si, séria un hito histôrico del que no disfrutô Spinoza. Pero, la excepcional sabiduria prâctico-moral de Spinoza, consistente en ocuparse de su propia vida interior y de su dimension social y politica, constituye un precedente todavia aleccionador, tanto más cuanto más se extienda la ilusa creencia de que la libertad es solo una cuestiôn de derechos.

RABBANITE SOURCES IN ISAAC OF T R O K I ' S SEFER HIZZUQ

EMUNAH1

STEFAN SCHREINER Eberhard-Karls-Universität Tübingen, Germany

T h e well-known scholar of the first half of the 17th century Yoseph Shelomoh Delmedigo, known as the YaShaR of Kandia, who spent about 5 years of his life in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth as court physician to prince Krzysztof Radziwill, reported on various occasions in his letters that truly learned people and men of secular culture could be encountered there only among the Karaites and not among the Jews, i. e. the Rabbanite Jews, for the latter knew nothing except the Talmud, and they contented themselves with studying it. This statement does not simply reflect the personal view of Delmedigo, but is well attested by a number of other sources from that time. These clearly indicate that in the second half of the 16th and first half of the 17,h centuries, it was precisely the Karaites, and not the Rabbanites, who represented the intellectual elite in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, as Israel Zinberg correcdy observed at the beginning of this century. Therefore, it is a long list of Karaite names, and members of the Lithuanian Karaite community in particular, who might be quoted here to corroborate that observation. O n e of them, an outstanding member of the 16th century Karaite community in Lithuania, if not its most prominent intellectual, was undoubtedly the famous Isaac ben Abraham of Troki, the author of the Sefer Hisguq Emunah. Isaac ben Abraham lived in the second half of the 16th century and spent almost all of his life in his native Trakai (Yiddish: Trvk), the old capital of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, near Vilnius, hence he is usually referred to as Isaac Troki. In Trakai, he served both the Karaite and the Rabbanite communities for several years as dajyan and shofet (Polish: wojt) and secretary of the Wa 'ad, the Supreme Council of the Lithuanian Karaites. He was not the only Karaite representing both communities simultaneously vis-à-vis the Polish-Lithuanian authorities. Contrary to the Rabbanites who rejected the Karaites' claim to constitute an integral part of the Jewish people, the Karaites regarded themselves as Jews. Years ago, Mark Waysblum righdy stated that "the term 'Jew' in sixteenthcentury Lithuania had the same juridical meaning in respect to both the Rabbanites and the Karaites." Unfortunately, very litde is known about the life of Isaac Troki. However, we know from his opus magnum as well as from the testimony of his disciple and editor, Yosef b. Mordekhai Malinowski of Cracow, that Isaac was a celebrity in An extended version with full apparatus and bibliographical notes is to be published in the Frankfurter Judaistische Beiträge 26, 1999.

his generation because of his great erudition. Well trained in Hebrew and Yiddish and Jewish tradition, he also mastered Polish and Latin. He had a profound knowledge of history, Jewish and general, and was familiar with classical and contemporary Christian theological literature. This familiarity with Christian theological literature grew out of his involvement in a series of interreligious disputations with Catholic and Lutheran, Calvinist and Unitarian theologians in Troki while he was still young. In the preface to his book Sefer Hi^uq Emunah he tells us: When I was young, I debated with bishops (hegemonini) and the officials of the lands. I was frequendy in the courts of the nobles and royal counsellors. I became familiar with their works, listened to their words, and became convinced that they were extremely ignorant and that all their arguments and the questions they put forth in their disputations only demonstrate how little they understand the text of the Bible.

O n e thing arising out of these disputations was Isaac's book written during old age when he decided to systematise the results and conclusions in one volume that might serve his co-religionists in the future as a hi%%uq emunah, a strengthening offaith, as he deliberately called it. The book itself consists of two parts. In the first, the author deals at length with the Christian interpretation of the Hebrew Bible focussing on all those passages which traditionally were read as proof texts for the Christian dogma. The second part of the book contains a thorough discussion of the large number of New Testaments texts which refer to the Hebrew Bible. Based on numerous quotations, Isaac carefully analysed not only the Biblical texts, but also the Christian commentaries on them. In a fair and scholarly way, he eventually demonstrated that the insufficient knowledge of Hebrew philology and history on the part of the Christian exegetes produced an interpretation of the Hebrew Bible that is completely unacceptable. Time and again, he managed to expose all the weak points and logical inconsistencies contained in the New Testament texts and subsequendy repeated by the Christian exegetes and theologians. The arguments Isaac put forward in his refutation of the Christian Bible interpretation are not just his own. Throughout the book, he made extensive use of a variety of both Jewish and Christian sources which he referred to or quite often quoted from verbatim, either in order to argue against them or to cite support for his own views. The list of Jewish and Christian sources that Isaac used is remarkably long. It proves once again his great erudition and gives us an idea of his library which included Hebrew, Latin, and Polish books. Whereas Isaac's Christian sources in general, and the Unitarian in particular, were identified and described early on, much less attention has been paid to the Jewish sources in Isaac's book. This is all the more surprising in view of the fact that while some of the books a n d / o r authors are mentioned by name or title or both, others that are alluded to, or even quoted, often remain unidentified. A tentative and incomplete list, but the only list, of the Jewish books and authors mentioned in Isaac's book was compiled more than 130 years ago by

Rabbi David Deutsch whom we have to thank for the first so-called Jewish edidon and German transladon of the Sefer hisguq emunah. Unfortunately Deutsch confined himself to listing only those authors a n d / o r books Isaac explicidy mentioned by name or tide. Anonymous works and authors were omitted. Perhaps the interpreter did not recognise them. That Isaac must have known the text of the entire Hebrew Bible by heart can easily be inferred from his book, since it consists largely of quotations from the Hebrew Bible. A masterpiece in that regard which also demonstrates the author's mastery of the Hebrew language is the haqdamah, the preface to his book. Almost half of its text is composed of quotations from no less than 73 biblical verses, selected from nearly all 24 books of the Hebrew Bible. As to Isaac's (other) Jewish sources, perhaps most astonishing is the fact that notwithstanding his being a Karaite, he used only books or texts of Rabbanite origin, including the Siddur Sefaradi which he quoted verbatim at least once [1,22 (162)2]: With reference to Jer 29:7 and mAv 111:2, he cites the so-called prayer for the king, Elohenu she-ba-shamayim ten hayyim we-sbalom la-mekkh adonenu, Elohenu sbe-bashamayim ten sbalom ba-aret% Elohenu she-ba-shamayim ten shalom ba-malkhut etc., according to the nusah Sefarad. Formally, the spectrum of Isaac's sources may be divided into two groups, one consisting of sources which Isaac himself identified by adding the names of authors a n d / o r titles of the books or texts he used, the other group being sources which are clearly discernible although Isaac himself did not specify them explicidy. With respect to their content, both groups can be further subdivided into four sections: 1) books on parshanut, i.e. commentaries on the Bible originating mainly from the Middle Ages, 2) books on history, 3) books on philosophy, and 4) classical Rabbinical literature (Targum, Mishnah, & Talmud). 1. The first section includes (in alphabetical order): e. g. works of D o n Isaac b. Yehudah Abravanel (1437-1508), Isaac b. Mosheh 'Arama (um 1420-1493/4) and Dawid b. Yosef Qimhi (1160-1235). From Isaac Abravanel's works, two are explicidy cited: the Sefer Mirkevet ba-Mishneh on Dtn 4:32-34 [1,7 (75)] and the Sefer Ma'ayane ba-Yeshu'ah, his commentary on the Book of Daniel on Dan 9:2427 [1,42 (252)]. Once Isaac referred to Isaac 'Arama by mentioning his name. Isaac knew from his works the Sefer 'Aqedat Yit^haq and quoted from its expianation on parashat wa-ethanan and from his rather philosophical tractate Ha%ut qashah [1,7 (75)]. The acronym RaDaQ (R. Dawid Qimhi) occurs in chapter 21 [1,21 (136f)] where Isaac calls attention to RaDaQ's commentary on Isa 7:14 in order to disprove the Christian reading of the so-called sign of Immanuel. Even if Isaac mentioned RaDaQ's name expressis verbis only once in the entire book, he used his commentaries frequendy, as I have pointed out in my article on chapter 22 (the refutation of the Christian interpretation of Isa 52:13-53:12) where Isaac quite often referred to RaDaQ's commentaries on Isaiah and Psalms without mentioning his name at all. Therefore, the list of all the refer-

The Roman numeral refers to the part of Isaac's book, the arable numerals to the chapter, and the number in brackets to the page in D. Deutsch's edition (Sohrau-Leipzig 1865 / 18732).

ences or allusions to RaDaQ's works would be accordingly long. As I have pointed out elsewhere, this "presence" of RaDaQ results from the fact that his commentaries on the Bible were printed in Jacob b. Hayyim ibn Adoniya's Biblia Rabbinica, and I am sure that Isaac had a copy of the Biblia Rabbinica on his shelf or at least had access to it. This would also explain the impact of Rashi and Abraham ibn Ezra on Isaac, respectively, clearly discernible throughout his book, even though he never mentioned their commentaries explicitly. 2. Isaac's knowledge of Jewish history derives mainly from Abraham ibn Da'ud's (1110P-1180?) Sefer ha-Qabbalah and the Yosef b. Gorion's Sefer Yosippon. Whereas Abraham ibn Da'ud's name is mentioned only twice [1,34 (208f); 1,42 (248)], his book is quoted verbatim more frequendy, and references to the Sefer Yosippon occur not less than nine times [1,6 (46.48.53); 1,17 (111); 1,34 (208); 1,42 (248.249.252); 1,43 (255)], thus proving that like many other medieval and premodern Jewish authors, Isaac, too, regarded this book as the foremost sourcebook of Jewish history. In chapter 1,14 (101), it is the Seder Olam Zutta, and in 1,42 (243) the Seder Olam Rabba, two other textbooks of history which exercised great influence on the formation of Jewish historical tradition and consciousness, which Isaac quoted verbatim to establish the genealogy of the descendants of Zerubbavel and to reconstruct the chronology of the Second Temple period. At least once, Isaac also made use of the Sefer ba-massa'of of R. Benjamin bar Yonah of Tudela (1110?-1173?) [1,8 (76)] from whom he obtained information concerning the "ten lost tribes of Israel." Furthermore, Isaac had already read Dawid b. Shelomoh Gans' (1541-1613) Sefer T%emab Dawid, since in two places he based his arguments on it [1,19 (124); 1,30 (193)]. The reference to Dawid Gans is all the more striking as this Sefer T^emah Dawid had just been published (1592 in Prague) half a year prior to Isaac's death. Likewise, he had carefully studied Marcin Bielski's famous Polish Kronika Swiata (printed 1555) which served as his foremost sourcebook of general history. 3. Except for Isaac 'Arama's Ηαψί qashah, the only philosophical text explicidy cited in Isaac's book 67 remains the Sefer ha-lqqarim of Yosef Albo (d. ca. 1444) [11,67 (333)]. Although the name Albo does not occur, Isaac calls him he-hakham ba'al Sefer ha-lqqarim (the wise, the author of the Book of Principles), there can be no doubt about his identity which becomes clear from the text of the citation (b. Ill, c. 25). It was not, however, a philosophical argument that Isaac sought in the Sefer ba-lqqarim, but merely a historical one in order to solve the problem of the duration of king Saul's reign. 4. The classical Rabbinical literature known to Isaac includes a variety of writings beginning with the Targum Onqelos accessible to him presumably due to its being printed in the Biblia Rabbinica. T o establish the true meaning of the difficult word shiloh in Gen 49:10 "until sbilob comes," Isaac referred to the Targum Onqelos and derived shiloh from the Hebrew shilyah (afterbirth) in Dtn 28:57 which Onqelos rendered "her youngest child," shiloh being "the last offspring" (seil, of David), i. e. the expected Messiah [1,14 (103)]. In another place, it is likewise the Targum Onqelos that helps Isaac in offering an explanation of the

biblical verse poqed 'awon avot 'al banim wg' "visiting the guilt of the fathers on the children" (Ex 20:5; 34:7) that does not contradict the statement in Dtn 24:16 according to which children should not bear the punishment for their fathers' sin (cf. Jer 31:29-30 and Ez 18:2-4) [1,11 (93)]. Isaac's interpretation of Ex 20:5 that the true meaning of this verse is: " G o d visits the iniquities of the fathers on the children, if the children act the same way their fathers did," almost literally recounts the Targumic paraphrase of Ex 20:5 based in turn on Talmud Bavli, Ber 7a. A certain familiarity on Isaac's part with the Talmud Bavli may be inferred from two other chapters even though he made mistakes which may be easily explained as aberratio oculi. Twice we find him quoting Talmudic authorities by name. In chapter 1,34 (209), Isaac reported a dispute between Rav and Shemuel on the interpretation of Hag 2:9. The dispute itself is transmitted in bBB 3a-b, but Isaac erroneously attributed it to Rav and Shemuel. In bBB 3a-b, however, the statements contradicting each other are put into the mouth of R. Johanan and R. El'azar respectively, whose names occur only one line later on the same Talmudic page. Similarly, in chapter 1,4 (43) Isaac refers to a debate about a dictum concerning the messianic era cited "from the Tractate 'Avodah Zarab." Once again, the quotation itself is correct; the source citation, however, proves to be wrong, since in bAZ 54b it is not Rabban Gamli'el, but the elders in Rome (mentioned in the following line) who held the position Isaac attributed to Rabban Gamli'el. Incidentally, when Isaac speaks of the sages of the Talmud, he consistently adds the usual eulogy in one or another form. Thus, we find in the author's preface the formula rabbotenu 'alehem ba-sbalom [baqdamab (7)]. Later in his book, he uses the expression bakbamenu ^•ikhronam li-vrakbah [1,6 (53); 1,22 (162)] to introduce quotations from Rabbinical texts, in the first case from the Talmud, in the latter from the Mishnah. Similarly, Isaac's disciple Yosef ben Mordekhai Malinowski of Cracow, to whom we give credit for the edition of his master's work, spoke in his introduction to it of rabbotenu ba-qedoshtm "our holy masters" when referring to the Talmudic sages [haqdamat ba-talmid (3)]. The most interesting quotation from the Rabbinic literature found in Isaac's book remains the saying of R. El'azar (mAv 11:14) which states: "Be diligent in the study of Torah, and know how to answer an epicuros etc." The same saying is used in a number of medieval Jewish polemical texts as the leitmotif. Thus, Yehudah the Pious warned his disciples against disputations with non-Jews admonishing them: "Know how to answer an epicuros, and only those of you who are able to answer like R. Idit did should answer (bSanh 38b), but 'do not answer a fool according to his foolishness, lest you will be like him yourself (Prov 26:4)." Likewise, Isaac declared at the outset of his book: "In the same way, the righteous and the pious should behave; therefore, our masters, peace be upon them, have taught us: 'Be diligent in the study of Torah, and know how to answer an epicuros'." [baqdamab (7)] This passage clearly indicates that Isaac must have had at least some idea of the medieval polemical and apologetic literature which he intended to enrich with his own book; and it is this quotation from mAv 11:14 which perhaps allows us to maintain that Isaac apparendy saw in his

own literary production a continuation of the work that his medieval predecessors had begun. The authenticity of Isaac's quotations from the Rabbinical literature in general, and from Talmudic texts in particular, has been questioned, and sometimes even denied, because at least one of these quotations, the saying erroneously attributed to Rabban Gamli'el (bAZ 54b), is missing in the oldest known manuscript of Isaac's book and is found only in later versions (cf. D. Deutsch, 43 η. 12). Decades ago, this observation prompted Israel Zinberg and others to maintain that Isaac "nowhere refers to the sages of the Talmud and introduces no quotations from Talmudic literature. This seemed so strange and unnatural that some persons immediately undertook to 'improve' Hivguk Emunah in this respect. In copying the work various additions were made. Statements of the Talmudic sages were added to the author's arguments in order to strengthen their force." Even if it might be true that this Talmudic passage was inserted into the text by a later copyist, there is no need to automatically question or deny the authenticity of the others and at the same time to contest the author's familiarity with the Talmudic literature at all. Taking into consideration that besides these explicit quotations, Isaac's book displays in many places phrases and sometimes entire sentences which reflect the language and phraseology of the Sages, we may fairly say that he had sufficient knowledge of the Talmudic literature to be able to make use of it. References to Talmudic passages can also be found in Isaac's other works. It was not without reason that his contemporary, Israel b. Israel of Luck, admired and praised him in a letter written in 1558 for "his great knowledge of the foundations of the Torah, the secrets of the Holy Scripture, and the riddles of the Gemara." Isaac was not only indebted to the Talmudic Sages. He also remembered the soferim and sefarim from whose mouth he had received his instruction (mah sheqibbalti mippi soferim u-mippi sefarim) [haqdamab (10—11)], including the above mentioned "commentaries of the great and outstanding commentators" (be'uregedole ha-mefarshim ha-mefursamim) as well as the philosophers (ba-filosophim) to whom he referred time and again without specifying their names and works explicitly [cf. 1,10 (83,84); 1,44 (260) etc.]. T o those anonymous authors—I am sure Isaac knew at least some of their works because his interpretations of biblical passages or solutions of philosophical problems resemble sometimes so strikingly their concepts and arguments—belong i. a. Rashi, Abraham ibn Ezra, Lewi ben Gerson,' Mosheh b. Maimon, Yehudah ha-Lewi, and perhaps Sa'adyah Gaon. A few examples follow. In my above mentioned article, I have pointed out, that in his large chapter 22 on Isa 52:13-53:12, Isaac drew heavily on Rashi's and Abraham b. Ezra's respective commentaries. In the same chapter, he even cited the Kut^ari twice [1,22 (149f. 152)]. Without mentioning Yehudah ha-Lewi's name, Isaac meticulously epitomised his doctrine of the Divine providence in its two aspects, the Some of his Bible commentaries were printed in the Biblia Rabbinica, as well.

Providentia generalis and the Providentia specialis (Ku^ari 11:44); and when trying to explain the meaning of galut, he once again referred to Yehudah ha-Lewi's retelling his famous parable of Israel in exile being the heart of the nations (Ku%ari 11:34-45) etc. Dealing with the Chrisdan dogma of the Trinity and tackling the problem whether the Christian belief in a triune God can rightly be viewed as an expression of a monotheistic faith, the arguments Isaac put forth in favour of the Unity of God, resemble in more than one aspect the opinion of Maimonides and the arguments he exposed in the first paragraphs of his Sefer ha-madda' [1,10 (83) etc.]. Unfortunately, this is not the place to provide a complete list of all the quotarions from and allusions to Rabbanite sources in Isaac's book, let alone to analyse his use of them. Nevertheless, the material presented here sufficiendy substantiates not only Isaac's great erudition in general, but also his wideranging and profound knowledge of Rabbanite tradition and literature. However, bearing in mind that Isaac was a Karaite, the list of his sources seems to be strange, or even striking, since from beginning to end, it consists exclusively of Rabbanite sources. Indeed throughout the book we do not encounter any Karaite authority or text. In addition to that, nowhere in Isaac's book is any critique of the Talmudic Sages discernible, let alone any expression of hostility towards the Rabbinical tradition. If we remember, however, what various contemporary as well as later sources tell us about the intellectual situation and social conditions of the Lithuanian Karaites at that time, this state of affairs may be amazing, but cannot really surprise, for from them we know that at that time, i. e. in the late 16th and early 17th centuries, Rabbanite literature was quite popular among the Lithuanian Karaites, and the study of it a wide-spread phenomenon. The aforementioned Yosef Shelomoh Delmedigo reported in letters on several occasions that more than once he had tried in vain to dissuade his Karaite friends and colleagues from studying Talmudic Halakhah, especially Aggadah (s. his Melo hofnajim, 14), to him a mere wasting of time, which in turn gives evidence to the fact that there were Karaites who devoted themselves to the study of that literature. Otherwise Delmedigo would have had no reason to discourage them from doing so. On the other hand, we know from the same Delmedigo that he, too, spent some time studying Rabbinical texts and Rabbanite commentaries on the Bible together with his Karaite friends. In his Sefer Elim (p. 8) he wrote that he, together with the physician, 'Ezra b. Nissan of Vilna (e.g.), had studied Rashi's commentary on the Torah, Elijah Mizrahi's supercommentary and above all, the commentaries of Abraham ibn 'Ezra. Ibn 'Ezra's exegesis enjoyed remarkably great popularity among the Karaites of that time. According to them, all of his Bible commentaries were deeply influenced by earlier Karaite Bible scholars. Indeed, some maintained that he himself was a Karaite. Particularly, Ibn 'Ezra's insistence on the peshaf, the plain meaning of the text established through proper philological analysis, was deemed sufficient evidence of Karaitic influence, because it was the Karaites who had strongly advocated the validity of the peshat

and its absolute superiority. Even Delmedigo himself maintained that: "everything they (the Karaites) commented on, nevi'im (Prophets) or ketuvim (Hagiographa), is clear, tasteful and close to the peshat, the true meaning" (Me10 hofnayim, 19—20). Therefore, he, too, was convinced that most of Ibn 'Ezra's "explanadons had been drawn from early Karaidc commentators, such as R. Yehoshu'ah b. Yehudah, R. Yefet b. 'Eli, and R. Yehudah the Persian" (Me10 hofnajim, 15. 20-21). These and similar statements which might easily be added, represent more than just Delmedigo's personal views. What he tells us is certainly representative not only of his time, i. e. the first half of the 17th century, but also applies to the second half of the 16th century and perhaps beyond. Thus, we may fairly assume that even in those days, there were Karaites immersing themselves in the study of Rabbanite Bible commentaries, the commentaries of Ibn 'Ezra and other Rabbanite authors. We know of Isaac's disciple, Yosef b. Mordekhai Malinowski, for example, that Bahya ibn Paquda's Sefer hovot ha-levavot belonged to his favoured books. Isaac was therefore by no means the only Karaite of his time engaged in the study of Rabbanite literature. In any case, his Sefer hisguq emunah sufficiendy proves that Karaite identity was at that time not (yet) identical with rejection of, or hostility towards, the Rabbanite tradition. O n the contrary, since the Karaites regarded themselves as Jews—it is not without meaning that Isaac consequently speaks of "we Jews" when he speaks of himself and his Karaite co-religionists—they could also use Rabbanite sources, because they regarded them as part and parcel of their own cultural and literary heritage.

T E N S I O N E S EN LA INTERPRETACIÔN DE LA RELIGIÔN

DE LA

RAZÔN

RUBEN STERNSCHEIN Barcelona, Spain

Poco después de su publicaciôn, La Religion de la Rayon desde las Fuentes del]udaismo, suscité una importante pregunta: ^Cuá1 es la relaciôn entre este ultimo trabajo de Hermann Cohen y el resto de su obra?. Segûn parece, para algunos estudiosos la cuesdôn era especialmente interesante teniendo en cuenta que este libro fue escrito cuando, en sus ûltimos anos, Hermann Cohen abandonô su cátedra en la prestigiosa universidad de Marbourg y se trasladô a Berlin, donde disertô en la Hochschule für die Wiessenschaft des Judentums. C o m o es sabido, Hermann Cohen (HC) se contaba entre los mentores de la escuela neo-kanriana que llevô el nombre de la mencionada universidad y habia publicado numerosos importantes estudios sobre Kant. 1 Asimismo entre los anos 1902 y 1912 desarrollô su propio sistema en très volûmenes titulados Logik des reinen Erkentniss (1902), Ethik des reinen Willens (1904), Aesthetik des reinen Gefühls (1912). Algunos dirian que parecia haber agotado por completo su sistema de no ser por la apariciôn de este libro que el propio Cohen no alcanzô a ver. E n 1923 T. G. Estreich establecia que no habia aqui ningûn cambio significativo. Rosenstock, en cambio, en 1924 sostuvo lo contrario: "su sistema dejô de ser filosofia y he aqui su grandeza." 2 Si bien podria parecer que la cuestiôn planteada ha perdido cierta vigencia, especialmente tras el debate del pasado congreso de la EAJS, surge la impresiôn de que la respuesta a la misma sigue rigiendo en considerable medida no solo la interpretaciôn y valoraciôn de la obra general de Cohen y de su ûltimo libro en particular sino también la correcta y compléta apreciaciôn de muchos de los diversos estudios realizados sobre ambos. Asimismo, sostenemos que la respuesta a la citada pregunta guarda cierta relaciôn con la posiciôn respecto a otras dos cuestiones comparativas: 1) la relaciôn de HC con el sistema kantiano en particular y con el idealismo en general (en toda la obra y en La Religion de la Rayon) y 2) la relaciôn de H C con el judaismo en general y su religion en particular (antes y durante La Religion de la Rayon). Proponemos a continuaciôn una síntesis de varios de los principales estudios sobre H C y su ûltimo libro, desde la perspectiva de las très preguntas. A m o d o de conclusion sugeriremos una breve reflexion respecto a un cuarta considéraciôn: la tension entre individuo y sociedad c o m o objetivo final del sistema. 1

2

Knuts Theorie der Erfahrung. Berlin 1871 ; Kants Begruendung der Ethik. Berlin 1877, por citar algunos de los mas tempranos y destacados. Psicologia Aplicada, 24.

Hemos de aclarar que no todos los estudios se refieren en forma directa a todas las cuestiones y que los propios partidarios de la postura que denominaremos "cambio rotundo" no creen que se trata de un hecho repentino sino de un proceso paulatino de desarrollo evolutivo en Cohen como persona, como filôsofo y como judio. 3 Frany Rosenyweig, que fue contemporâneo de HC y se consideraba alumno suyo, establece en su extenso articulo introductorio a Jüdische Schriften de HC, que su maestro revelô un "cambio rotundo" en su ultimo libro respecto al resto de su sistema. Ese cambio consiste precisamente en su relaciôn con el judaismo y el idealismo en forma de kantianismo. Para Rosenzweig, H C fue, previamente, profundamente kantiano y su judaismo fue relegado e inhibido por su carrera académica. Sin embargo este relegamiento era absolutamente artificial y finalmente su auténtica identificaciôn saliô a la luz e iluminô de manera distinta su pensamiento. Rosenzweig sostiene que el Dios de HC nunca fue una mera idea y que fue su propia fe la que tarde ο temprano lo llevaria a abandonar el idealismo absolute. Del mismo modo, esa fe inevitablemente lo conduciria a la concepciôn de que la existencia ha de ser posible, también, y ante todo, fuera de la razôn. Asimismo la fe en un dios racional pero a su vez creador, le produjo el "salto" de una razôn creadora a otra creada. Finalmente el concepto de "correlaciôn" establece, segûn Rosenzweig, una relaciôn de definiciôn mutua que débilita, si no anula por completo, la concepciôn de la creaciôn unilateral del sujeto por medio de la razôn y el conocimiento. La correlaciôn modifica radicalmente el concepto de hombre y de dios de Cohen, segûn Rosenzweig. Si anteriormente el hombre era un mero représentante de la humanidad que mediante el monoteism o se converda en el centro del drama histôrico y dios pasaba a ser meramente la garanda de la continuidad de la realidad natural como escenario de la realizaciôn ética, ahora nos encontramos frente a un hombre que ante todo es un individuo concreto, que existe en una realidad auténtica en si misma y caracterizado individualmente por su sufrimiento concreto, su pecado y su culpa, mientras que dios es la fuente del perdôn redentor. Se trata de un "hombre que no se diluye en una humanidad mesiánica fûtura... E n el reino de la correlaciôn, dios no puede ser sin el hombre ni el hombre sin dios, ...ambos se tornan concretos mutuamente en la misma realidad..." 4 Rosenzweig asegura, pues, que Cohen era simplemente el "hijo de la vejez" del siglo XIX pero que sin duda adoptô finalmente el sistema del siglo XX, el nuevo pensamiento. E n cuanto al judaismo, Rosenzweig considéra que si bien siempre permanecieron en Cohen los lazos que lo idendficaban con la tradiciôn familiar, durante muchos anos permaneciô alejado del judaismo y de los judios. Nunca cortô totalmente el vinculo, pero sus primeros aruculos relacionados con ambos 5 deno3

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La expresiôn y este argumento están tornados del mismisimo Rosenzweig, en su libro hebreo Naharaim. Jerusalem: Mossad Bialik, 1960, 131, que fue su introducciôn a la publicaciôn de una recopilaciôn epistolar de Cohen {Jüdische Schriften). Naharaim, 138. Heine und das Judentum (1861),!Zirchow und die Juden (1868), Der Sahbat in seiner kulturgeschichtliche Bedeutung (1869), y el más famoso y trascendente: Ein Bekenntnis in der Judenfrage (1880). Aqui Cohen sugiere que el protestanüsmo alemân y el judaismo profédco, que es lo principal del mis-

tan una clara postura asimilacionista. Rosenzweig la asume pero a su vez propone que desde su primer escrito en 1880, se puede observar un pauladno y muy lento proceso de "retorno" al judaismo, a las causas polidcas de los judios y a la religiosidad en si. Cada vez lo veremos más involucrado, y más pardcularista. El cristianismo será mencionado menos y con más reservas y segûn Rosenzweig desde su traslado a Berlin se irá vislumbrando un fervor que revelarà un sentimiento de reverencia y sacralidad respecto al judaismo junto a una profunda y genuina emociôn por la tradiciôn. Rosenzweig transmite su argumentaciôn por medio de anécdotas y de su particular sensaciôn durante la misma y posteriormente. Se atreve a establecer reiteradas veces que el propio HC no era del todo consciente del cambio que estaba viviendo... 6 Natan Rotenstreich establece que HC cambio en La religion de la Rayon, pero no respecto a Kant, sino a si mismo. Siempre, y en especial en su Etica se comprueba, segûn Rotenstreich, su postura critica y su reserva respecto a Kant especialmente en lo referente al concepto de dios, del hombre, del otro y del mal. El dios de la ética de Cohen, surge en relaciôn de amor (amante y amado) y no solo como legislador y de ahi se derivan los demás conceptos mencionados. Asimismo, el mal en Cohen no es un piano natural y abstracto, paralelo al bien, entre los cuales decide la razôn, como en el libro de la Religion de Kant, sino que el mal es un mal concreto, que se verifica en el casdgo y en el sufrimiento. El verdadero cambio de Cohen, como senalamos, respecto a su propio sistema, se encuentra en el status de la razôn. La razôn no es ya creadora sino creaciôn. Como tal es correlativa con la Razôn divina que no puede tener ninguna relaciôn con el mal mencionado sino, exclusivamente con la sandficaciôn del hombre. El status de la religion también se cuenta entre las diferencias que siempre mantuvo respecto a Kant, y Rotenstreich se vale de los respectivos titulos que dieron ambos autores (Kant y Cohen) a sus libros sobre la religion para sefialar la diferencia. 7 Mientras Kant utiliza la razôn como criterio de estudio y clasificaciôn de la religion, Cohen sostiene que la religion tiene un sitio en la razôn, es parte de la misma, la razôn no acaba de explicarse ni conocerse sin la religion. La idea de dios, empero, si se modifica en su ûltimo trabajo respecto al resto de la obra. E n su Ética, se trata más bien de una idea que responde a una necesidad metodolôgica del sistema. Dios asegura la continuidad de la naturaleza como escenario de realizaciôn de la ética. En La Religion de la Rayon, Dios existe, y más aûn: es la existencia ο el ser en si: The True Being 0 The True Reality. Rotenstreich lo sefiala también como el dios que perdona al individuo. Sin embargo, aclara que se trata de una conclusion idealista. El propio amor es un amor idéico, a ideas, a la idea de dios. Del mismo modo cuando senalâbamos la existencia divina no nos referiamos más que al piano lôgico por encima de la percepciôn. Porque para Rotenstreich el verdadero cambio de Cohen radica en que la religion

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mo, son una misma entidad y que tarde ο temprano todos los judios se asimilarân al medio y se acabarán los problemas... Naharaim 138-142, por ejemplo. "Religion within limits of reason alone and Religion of reason." Leo Baeck institute Yearbook 1972, 179-187.

pasa del piano ético al lôgico 8 en su ultimo libro. Este paso implica, entre otros, el énfasis en el individuo y en la acciôn concreta que comienza a vincular al hombre con Dios, como las dos partes de la realidad. Sin embargo una y otra vez Rotenstreich aclara que la correlaciôn entre dios y el hombre, como la del hombre con el mundo, es idealista, precisamente porque es lôgica y no personal. Dios renueva a diario el mundo pero no porque renueva su voluntad sino porque no hay otra posibilidad. Asi es desde toda la eternidad. Con todo, Rotenstreich permite vislumbrar un atisbo de vida "personificada," de alguna manera, en el dios que marca el camino de la autopacificaciôn del individuo por medio de su perdôn. Asimismo, senala que la diferencia en el concepto del "otro" entre le Etica y La Religion de la Rayon radica en su escenario. En la Etica surge de la ley mientras que en la Religion surge de la experiencia. Por ultimo, en el concepto de espiritu santo observamos otro cambio. Dios es quien depositô el espiritu en el hombre con la capacidad de orientarse a través de dios hacia su santidad propia. De este modo, nuevamente el dios de la humanidad impersonal de la Etica, se convierte en el dios de la realizaciôn del individuo, cuando perdona al que practica la teshuvá y le proporciona su pacificaciôn en très niveles: con dios, con el prôjimo y consigo mismo. 9 Hans Eiebeschiity;0‫ י‬senala que el ultimo libro de Cohen délimita dos épocas ο al menos dos estadios diferentes en su desarrollo intelectual y espiritual. Sin embargo, establece expresamente que no coincide con la interpretaciôn de Rosenzweig, que indicaria que H C se trans formô en existencialista. Segûn él, el cambio ha de observarse principalmente en su relaciôn con la religion en general y con su identificaciôn con lo judaico en particular. Liebeschütz que escribe desde una optica más bien histôrica y menos filosôfica, nos aporta una explicaciôn inédita de las posibles causas del cambio. Para él se debe principalmente a razones de dpo biogrâficas, personales, y sociales. Precisamente por ser neokantiano a ultranza y, como tal, idealista y racionalista, HC se encontrô absolutamente solo en su medio académico, sin adeptos, ni seguidores, ni socios. Los sistemas de su época lo veian anacrônico y asi se sentia en su contexto intelectual y social, y fue entonces cuando estimô que precisamente el judaismo era el ûltimo bastion de su kantianismo y los judios como taies serian los ûnicos fieles seguidores. Por eso se trasladô a la Hochschule de Berlin. La alienaciôn social e intelectual es el verdadero motor de la intenciôn posterior de HC de presentar la vuelta al judaismo como un paso más, en ο desde su sistema de siempre. Liebeschütz senala también que pueden verse algunos indicios de un proceso paulatino en este sentido, aunque mucho más amplio, desde sus primeros araculos relacionados 8

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La nociôn de unicidad que existe en la lôgica como una de las categorias cridcas, conlleva la bûsqueda de la relaciôn entre la sensaciôn y la unicidad. El individuo en si asume pues el papel de puente entre la sensaciôn y la realidad (que en la lôgica es la tension entre individuo y sociedad, a diferencia de la érica que solo concibe a la sociedad). La religion enfarizará al individuo y a la acciôn concreta en la realidad... Rotenstreich, "From the Ethical Idea to the True Being. Hermann Cohen." In Jewish Philosophy in Modern Times. From Mendelssohn to Resen^weig. New YorkChicago-San Francisco: Holt-Reinhart & Winston, 1968, 60-61, 87-91. Ibid., 99. Liebeschütz, H. 1968. "Hermann Cohen and his Historical Background." Leo Baeck Institute Yearbook, 3—33.

con el judaismo," en los cuales se vislumbra ya una tendencia integradora y positiva, menos critica, respecto a las fuentes judias en general. E n ese contexto hasta la Kabalà y Spinoza gozan de un status considerablemente construcdvo. En resumen, Cohen présenta en La Religion de la Rayon un cambio profundo, pero exclusivamente respecto a su identificaciôn con lo judaico, y esto se debe a su fidelidad total al neokantianismo en un contexto post-kantiano. Sinai Ukko12 opina que el cambio en el ultimo libro de Hermann Cohen es más bien una atenuaciôn leve de su idealismo racionalista. E n cuanto a la religiôn, senala que su sistema filosôfico en general y ético en particular siempre se apoyô en una idea de Dios que mantuvo a lo largo de todos sus escritos. En su Etik ya indicô, segûn Ukko, que siempre que el hombre cree en un sendero que conduce de lo real a lo ideal se encuentra frente a Dios. Se trata de un Dios ondco y no meramente lôgico ο idéico. Desde esta optica Ukko establece que todo su sistema, siempre incluyô una clara veta teolôgica que no necesariamente se basaba en el judaismo. N o como sistema y no como tradiciôn biogrâfica. Para Ukko, HC no regresô a la tradiciôn familiar ο nacional y no hemos de buscar razones afectivas en el origen de La Religion de la Rayon. Su filosofia continué siendo siempre religiosa ο teolôgica. Hay, sin embargo un cambio respecto al status de la religion como una disciplina en si (especial aunque no independiente) entre otras áreas de la razôn, pero éste no se debe al concepto de Dios ο de la Lôgica sino principalmente al concepto de individuo. El individuo de la ética se encuentra siempre en relaciôn con la sociedad, con la naciôn ο con la humanidad. El de la religion surge precisamente en su soledad, en su personalidad ûnica, en su sufrimiento, en sus logros y fracasos, en sus esperanzas y frustraciones. La compasiôn es el motor descubierto por la comprensiôn religiosa del individuo, es la que convierte al otro en un fellowman y al individuo en un yo ûnico. Este sentimiento es a su vez el que despierta esta religiosidad en el individuo y sitûa lo afectivo en el centro de la Religion. Consciente de que esta terminologia es caracteristica de sistemas dialôguicos, Ukko aclara que pudieron originarse en la interpretaciôn de HC pero el suyo no lo fue. N o fue existencialista ni dialoguista. S. H. Bergman, en sus dos principales articulos sobre HC relacionados con nuestros interrogantes, 13 establece que HC en su ûltimo libro quebrô los muros del sistema filosôfico idealista y sentô las bases del dialoguismo. Bergman senala, como otros, el nuevo status de la religion y del individuo, pero concluye que el significado del cambio es situarse en otro sistema de pensamiento. La religion se dirige al individuo experimental y concreto, le exige especial atenciôn y empefio por la realizaciôn activa, en la realidad experimental, de los imperativos categôricos, exige la responsabilidad por las consecuencias concretas de las acciones u omisiones. El cambio respecto a Dios también lo considéra Bergman como 11 12

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Liebeschütz 1968. nota n° 5. Principalmente: "Hahemla: Hearot la philosophia hadadt shel H C . " Yiun 20, 1969-1970 y su introducciôn a la ediciôn hebrea de La Religion Je la Ra^pn, ritulada: Mishnatô hadatit she! HC. Jerusalén: Mosad Bialik, 1971. "Hermann Cohen." E n Toldot baphilosophia hahadasha. Jerusalem: Mosad Bialik, 1982, vol. 4, 172192; y "Hermann Cohen." E n Hoguei Hador. Jerusalem: Magnes, 1970.

fundamental y modificador de todo el sistema. Dios no solo deja de ser una mera idea que adquiriô presencia ο existencia vivas, sino que se convierte en La Existencia ο el Ser en si, hasta el punto de que solo en virtud de la misma se puede dar la existencia del hombre que es un "siendo." Asimismo, para poder asumir este papel, Dios necesita del hombre y de esta forma queda determinada la correlaciôn que vincula a ambos en la definiciôn mutua. El punto de partida es, según Bergman, la existencia, pero se trata de la existencia de Dios. De este m o d o el sistema se transforma de antropocéntrico en teocéntrico. Bergman destaca también el descubrimiento del individuo concreto en su culpa y pecado, que necesita de la expiaciôn y el perdôn de Dios, el cual de ser la garanda de la existencia de la naturaleza se convierte en la del perdôn y la expiaciôn del hombre. Con todo esto, para Bergman, Cohen abandonô el idealismo racionalista basado en las premisas y se ubicô en uno dialôguico, teolôgico y en cierta medida existencialista, si bien refiriéndose, como senalamos arriba a la existencia de Dios. E n ambos ardculos abundan claramente las sentencias drásticas en las que Bergman expresa el alcance del cambio, lo tilda de "revoluciôn en su pensamiento," y manifiesta que "el anciano Cohen destruyô todas las estructuras de Kant." Hay pues un HC joven y otro anciano totalmente diferente y su cambio en el concepto de las categorias religiosas modifica radicalmente también su relaciôn con el pensamiento idealista en general y con el kandano en particular. Bergman sostiene que el propio Cohen no era consciente de la dimension de su cambio. A diferencia de Rosenzweig, Bergman valora negativamente este desarrollo en HC. Para Bergman, Cohen no consiguiô conciliar el desarrollo religioso personal de sus Ultimos afios con su sistema filosôfico, no probô que sea necesaria la religion para descubrir al individuo y para ser consciente de su culpa, y acabô debilitando la racionalidad y sistematizaciôn de su pensamiento. E/ieyer SchweidH sostiene que HC fue uno de los filôsofos más sistemâticos y coherentes de la historia del pensamiento judio ο de los pensadores judios. HC, como verdadero ciendfico del pensamiento, va construyendo su sistema a medida que lo va descubriendo (si bien es deductivo en gran medida y supone premisas a priori como punto de partida). Si se modifica el status de la religion en su ultimo libro no es por un cambio, ni rotundo ni leve, es por el minucioso y cientifico desarrollo del sistema. Por lo tanto es imposible comprender su Re/igiôn de la Rayon fuera del resto de su obra. Schweid senala, pues, continuidad, pero en el sistema, no en su religiosidad ο judeidad. Esa continuidad estricta y escrupulosa en el sistema es la que desde su propia ética, una vez completada, lo situa frente a su ultima pregunta: el individuo. Schweid describe el camino de HC desde la ética teôrica a la práctica, en la forma de la filosofia politica, a través de la filosofia del derecho. Aqui surgen las leyes y sus castigos para establecer y sostener la unidad y el equilibrio de la sociedad. Pero esta sociedad en este instante queda representada en el casdgado ο condenado, que aparece como un individuo cuyo mero papel como tal nos exige asegurarnos de que el casdgo

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"Yesodot haphilosophia hadatit shel HC." Mejkarei Ytrushalim bemajshevet Israel, vol 2,2, 19821983. Jerusalem: Hebrew University Press, 255-305.

cumplirà esa funciôn constructiva y resritutoria del equilibrio. En este preciso instante el sistema édco llega a su fin, ya que hemos abandonado el ideal de la sociedad perfecta en su armonia ideal kandana y nos encontramos en la vivencia ûnica de este individuo concreto y especifico. Esta es una de las más importantes aportaciones de Schweid: HC descubre al individuo cuando agota su ética en su filosofia politica. Asimismo este individuo en retrospectiva será quien ponga de manifiesto el concepto a priori de Dios, en su unicidad. Aqui se une Schweid a los que senalan la novedad del lugar de la religion en las disciplinas racionales, pero aclara que también aqui HC continua siendo auténticamente racionalista, aun en su preferencia por las fuentes del judaismo, ya que actúan como origen cultural del conocimiento, al igual que las obras de arte, que en su razonamiento a posteriori, ponen de manifiesto las bases racionales a priori de la estédca, escondidas tras ellas. La religion es, pues, una novedad, pero descubierta por el sistema en si. Es la propia ética la que condujo a la religion en su propia limitaciôn para agotar al hombre. Schweid senala, además de los mencionados, otros puntos de vista respecto a las aportaciones de la religion a la ética. E n primer lugar, la culpa se extiende de la responsabilidad por los propios actos al sufrimiento ocasionado por las injusticias sociales. El représentante de tal sufrimiento es el pobre y su sufrimiento (concreto y real) se compara con el de Job ya que se exacerba por su inocencia respecto al mismo. A su vez quien experimenta la relaciôn empática con tal pobre y lo descubre asi, en su individualidad, como un "fellow-man," sufre por su responsabilidad, que es religiosa (porque la religion la puso de manifiesto con su descubrimiento del individuo en su sufrimiento y porque Dios es el origen de la razôn ética). De aqui que todo atentado contra el hombre se vuelve un atentado contra Dios, y el dano cobra la dimensiôn de pecado. La expiaciôn no se compléta ya ni siquiera con la pacificaciôn del danado y su perdôn (como lo indica el tratado de lomà), segûn la lectura de Schweid a HC, sino por medio de la renovaciôn del espiritu. Esta renovaciôn es el verdadero momentum de libertad que experimenta el individuo: la que sucede a la acciôn y deviene de la responsabilidad asumida por sus consecuencias. La de la teshuvâ. Por ûltimo hemos de sefialar la orientaciôn futura del sistema éticoreligioso de H C que segûn Schweid remarca la diferencia con el cristianismo: lo ideal es una meta futura, infinita, pero que se realiza en este mundo y por lo tanto no deja de desafiar a cada uno de sus miembros mientras lo habitan. E n cuanto al judaismo en especial, para Schweid si hay un cambio en H C éste fue paulatino y derivado absolutamente del sistema, como el general respecto a la religion, y en el paso a Berlin han de resaltarse solamente la mayor libertad de expresiôn y cierta inclinaciôn por una vida algo más tradicionalista. Si en el pensamiento general HC acercô la filosofia judia al umbral del existencialismo dialôguico sin atravesarlo, en el desarrollo del judaismo H C representa para Schweid la máxima aproximaciôn a otros dos umbrales que no atravesô: el particularismo nacional en forma de sionismo y la vuelta a la practica de la halajà. Nuevos terrenos, pero no atravesados por HC.

Steven Schwaryschild^ representa el extremo opuesto a Rosenzweig en la apreciaciôn de nuestras preguntas. Para él H C no solo no se transformô en existencialista ο en dialoguista, ο abandonô el idealismo, ο lo "atenuô," ο "se acercô al umbral de otro terreno," sino que no se moviô en absoluto. Ni en su judaismo, ni en su concepto de la religion en general, como tampoco respecto a Kant ni al idealismo. Fue exactamente el mismo en todas sus obras. N o hay épocas, ni modificaciones de ningún tipo. Schwarzschild establece que siempre fue un profundo y entusiasta creyente, que siempre se vio vinculado a la tradiciôn de su padre y de ahi la dedicatoria, y que fue kandano a ultranza. La prueba de la condnuidad absolutamente inmôvil, la senala por medio de paralelismos estructurales, metodolôgicos y por supuesto conceptuales entre su Etica y su Lôgica, y su Religion de la Rayon. Asimismo su continuidad kandana se demuestra también hasta en los respectivos dtulos de las principales obras de Kant y de HC, exponiendo un paralelismo entre el concepto de Cohen de lo "puro" y el concepto de Kant de lo "critico." Parece ser que la clave del argumento de Schwarzschild se encuentra en su interpretaciôn de la korrelation, la cual en su concepto es absolutamente trascendental, a diferencia del dialoguismo posterior y existencialista. Dios es solamente un postulado idéico, es la base conceptual y por lo tanto el diâlogo se desarrolla en el terreno de la razôn o, en el lenguaje biblico, en el de "espirtu santo." N o existe aqui ninguna dimension ontolôgica. Finalmente hemos de senalar que Schwarzschild es el ûnico que enfadza que por su carácter racional se trata de una religion universal y que también ha de buscarse, según HC, en las fuentes del cristianismo. William Kluback16 sostiene que H C se propuso principalmente demostrar la afinidad total entre judaismo y kantianismo. De ahi que pueda afirmarse que Cohen era siempre ambas cosas: judaico y kandano. La propia profundizaciôn en el sistema de Kant es la que lo devolviô aún más a la religiosidad judia. Al igual que Kant, rechaza H C una ética que se limita a la teorizaciôn. Precisamente en este punto, segûn Kluback, HC encuentra la judeidad oculta en el kantianismo: el compromiso con la realizaciôn práctica de la ética. Kluback senala, empero, un punto en el que HC se aparta de Kant, aunque por motivos kantianos. Kant habia establecido que una religion era édcamente aceptable en tanto y en cuanto los imperativos divinos fueran los racionales-éticos. Si bien el dogma cristiano no responde a este criterio, el judaismo de Cohen si, y por eso se acercô aún más a su tradiciôn. El apego incondicional a la ley que reclamaba Kant, H C lo encuentra, segûn Kluback, en el judaismo y aqui surge la ûnica verdadera diferencia en su lectura de La Religion de la Rayon : Kant exige este apego libre de historia mientras que Cohen lo coloca precisamente en la "historia teolôgica de Israel." Sin embargo, los principales pilares de la religion en general y de la judia en particular se ajustan, segûn la lectura que hace Kluback de HC, a los criterios kantianos. La teshuvà es un mecanismo para mantener al hombre comprometido 15

16

"The Title of Hermann Cohen's 'Religion of Reason out of the Sources of Judaism'." The Life of Covenant: The Challenge of Contemporary Judaism. Essays in Honor of H. E. Schaalman. Ed. J. A. Edelheit. Chicago: Spertus College of Judaica Press, 1986, 207-220. Kluback, 1987. "H.Cohen & Kant: A Philosophy of History from Jewish Sources." Idealistic Studies 17,2.

constantemente con el imperativo ético. Asimismo, la fe en Dios no es sino la genuina confianza en la realizaciôn de la ética que asegura el compromiso con ella. Esta relaciôn total entre filosofia racionalista idealista kantiana y religiosidad édca judia caracterizan todo el pensamiento de H C según Kluback, por lo cual no senala ningún cambio fuera de una leve aproximaciôn mayor al segundo terreno en el ultimo libro de HC.

Esquematizaciôn de las tensiones interpretativas Se observa en lo que hemos presentado que existen varias tensiones en la interpretaciôn de La Religion de la Rayon en si y de su relaciôn respecto al resto de la obra de HC. Asimismo se observa una interesante correlaciôn entre la postura respecto a esta cuesdôn y la apreciaciôn de la evoluciôn del idealismo kandano y de la religiosidad judia en HC. En primer lugar, quedan definidos claramente los extremos: Rosenzweig y Bergman en uno, a favor del "cambio rotundo" en los très aspectos (la obra de HC en si, el idealismo kandano y el status de la religion en general y la judia en pardcular), y Schwarzschild y Kluback en el otro, sosteniendo el argumento de la conunuidad total prácdcamente inmôvil. Entre ambos se situarian Rotenstreich (que si bien no se manifiesta expresamente, adopta el lenguaje del cambio cuando senala etapas y las compara, pero a su vez indica que HC siempre se mantuvo distante de Kant y a la vez idealista, aunque el nuevo dios casi adquiere personalidad en el perdôn), Liebeschütz (que distingue el piano de la religion, en el que acepta un cambio, y el de la filosofia en el cual lo rechaza), Schweid (que senala cambios pero los concibe como desarrollos auténticos del sistema y aclara que no abandona terrenos ni cruza umbrales) y Ukko que se limita a senalar la compasiôn y el individuo como "leves atenuantes" de su racionalismo. Existe también cierta caracterísdca metodôlogica: los que más senalan "cambios rotundos" más se valen de interpretaciones que van más allà de lo que HC escribiô expresamente. Se trata, para ellos, de modificaciones de las que ni el propio H C era consciente. A su vez, parece haber cierta relaciôn entre la distancia cronolôgica que sépara al estudioso de HC y la tendencia a apegarse a la palabra escrita y alejarse de todo lo que sea basarse en la interpretaciôn de su desarrollo afectivo por medio de anécdotas. Aun aqui se dan tensiones interpretativas, ya que hay quien senala (Liebeschütz) que la desolaciôn académica lo condujo a Berlin y al judaismo, mientras que otros (Rosenzweig, Bergman) lo ven al rêvés: el redescubrimiento del judaismo acabô por dejarlo solo... La continuidad, lo mismo que el cambio, se adjudican de diversas maneras a diversas partes del pensamiento de HC. Hay quienes ven cambio ο continuidad en la religiosidad, en el judaismo, en la escuela de pensamiento, en el propio sistema y en la relaciôn con Kant. Asimismo, los propios defensores del cambio lo valoran de maneras opuestas. Para Rosenzweig es el climax y para Bergman es un desmoronamiento. Sin embargo entre los que sostienen la continuidad hay más consenso: todos senalan una constante, clara y alta idendficaciôn con lo judaico. A diferencia de los partidarios del cambio, que resaltan su indiferencia y asimilacionismo previos (a 1880, al menos). Los meros dtulos de los libros de H C y Kant son comparados desde las respectivas opticas ο se utili-

zan para reforzarlas (Schweid senala afinidades, Schwarzschild equivalencias totales y Rotenstreich oposiciones). La relaciôn entre filosofia y religion también se valora de formas diversas. Unos manuenen que siempre se hallaron intimamente ligadas en su sistema (Kluback); otros, que las intentô unir y fracasô (Bergman), y otros, que las mantuvo, una vez descubierta la segunda, en interrelaciôn y enriquecimiento mutuo; para algunos en el idealismo (Schweid y Rotenstreich) y para otros en el existencialismo (Rosenzweig). Por ultimo, la religion y sus conceptos bàsicos los endenden las diversas interpretaciones de forma dispar. Dios es concebido como mera idea; para otros pasa a ser existencia y ser en si y para otros adquiere persona en algun aspecto. Y en este mismo punto hay diferencias profundas en la comprensiôn de esta existencia y ser y el sentido de perdonador, entre una tendencia más idealista, figurativa trascendental y otra más existencial. Asimismo, la interpretaciôn de la correlaciôn varia en forma significativa desde una forma de diâlogo casi personal hasta una afinidad racional, pasando por un diâlogo trascendental. La teshuvá, finalmente, se describe desde una optica psicologista, espiritual, existencial, generadora ο reveladora del individuo ûnico en su libertad, y en el otro extremo se percibe en su dimensiôn de compromiso ético con la realizaciôn de la razôn. Es posible que en algunos casos sea la respuesta a las primeras très preguntas la que condiciona el resto de la interpretaciôn, como punto de partida, mientras que en otros, el camino podria ser al rêvés: las respuestas a las très preguntas iniciales son la conclusion retrospecdva de la interpretaciôn del resto de los elementos.

READINGS ON CABBALA G I O V A N N I P I C O DELLA M I R A N D O L A ALEXANDER THUMFART Pädagogische Hochschule Erfurt, Germany

In his history of Florence, Niccolo Machiavelli not only painted Giovanni Pico della Mirandola as a man of "quasi divine spirit" and enormous learning, but also as a faithful Chrisdan believer and a follower of the fanatic Girolamo Sa) . Roughly one hundred years later vonarola ( M a c h i a v e 5 5 5:1993‫ש‬ Cabbalist Abraham Cohen Herrera not only integrated the teachings of Pico and Marsilio Ficino into his own writings, but, as G e r s h o m Scholem noticed, probably owed a lot to both Florentine philosophers (Scholem 1974: 37). So Pico seems to be or is claimed to be a member of both traditions—the Christian and the Hebrew, at least in its cabalistic version. But things seem to be not altogether that clear. As Frances Yates noticed, we often simply do not know what exacdy Pico meant by his sometimes amazing statements on cabalistic teachings (Yates 1991: 21-25). And only recendy Shlomo Simonsohn wrote, quite controversly, that despite Pico's interest and favour in Cabbala, his thinking is nevertheless rooted deeply in a more or less anti-Judaic, Catholic tradition full of resentment and philosophical prejudices (Simonsohn 1996: 416). We are therefore on one side confronted with the problem that Pico's posidon in the history of thoughts and traditions is seen as quite ambivalent and unclear, and on the other side with the difficulty of distinguishing what his philosophy is "really" about, especially the part that deals with Cabbala. In the following paper I will try to shed some new light on these paradoxes. I will proceed in two steps. In the first part I will briefly outline Pico's philosophical concept. I will argue that we should reconstruct his thinking in quite a different manner, than it has been done up to now. This concept then provides the overall frame, within which we can locate Pico's readings on the Cabbala. In the smaller second part I will tentatively formulate the chances and the more or less political dangers that flow or seem to flow out of Pico's understanding of the Cabbala and Judaism.

In several of his writings, the Oratio de dignitate hominis, the Commente sopra un'canyone d'amore, the Heptaplus and De ente et uno, Pico presents his philosophical position in a very artificial and sophisticated way. G o d created heaven and earth. But the creation is explained in a way that radically breaks with traditional ontological concepts of a hierarchical order of distinct things outside the human knowledge and mind.

First of all, G o d is absolutely unknowable for us. We can never know anything about God, he transcends all words and all concepts we use to name him (Pico 1969: 248). He is the "deus absconditus", the hidden invisible light above everything. This is of course a mystical concept, expressed by Tauler, Plotin, Joseph Gikatilla and many others. In his own darkness, that means, in himself, G o d created all being. With reference to a specific trinitarian speculation Pico says that God created every one thing in the son, being one and the same with the father, first and foremost: infinite, absolutely simple and the truth itself. So G o d created everything in his own hidden infinite truth. G o d contains everything truthfully, and God knows the truth of every thing. "At vero quemadmodum Deus non solum ob id quod omnia intelligit, sed quia in seipso verae rerum substandae perfectionem totam unit et colligit" (Pico 1969: 38; italics mine). What does this mean? It means that for G o d and in God every thing/the creation is undistinct, absolutely one and therefore in truth infinite. All true knowledge of being must therefore start with the true knowledge of God. But being unable to know anything true about God, human beings can never ever capture the truth of any thing. This has to do with the character of human knowledge, the act of knowing. The act of knowing is an act of separation or definition. You draw a line on a white sheet of paper for example and in drawing that line you define left and right. And only then you know, what left and right is. The same works in simple visual sight. Take an example: T o see and know a tree, means to separate it from the soil, the soil from the air, the air from the birds, the birds from the clouds, the clouds from the herbs and so on. Without separation and distinction nothing could be seen and known, all would be one. The same works with intellectual knowledge, ideas for example. But then, what is this "white sheet of paper" that is divided in distinct squares and things? For Pico it is God. "Sicut Deus est simpliciter cognido totius esse, ita intellectus est diffinido totius esse" (Pico 1969: 89). (Just as G o d is the most simple cognition of all being, so [human] intellect is the definition/division of all being. ) When we recognize one thing as one thing, we limit and divide all being, we draw lines between all being. But, as God being the all infinite one, in the act of knowing human knowledge limits infinity. T o be more precise: Human knowledge represents the infinite God in a limited way or it unfolds—just as Leon Battista Alberti teaches (Braider 1993: 19-24)—infinity in an structured limited picture. T o use a metaphor very much present in Pico's texts: the human eye, i.e. the corporal eyes as well as the intellect as an eye, splits up the absolute simple white light (God) into the colours of the rainbow (Pico 1969: 24-25, 316, 905). The intellect is therefore a prism. The colours do not stand in opposition to seeing or thinking as classical ontology teaches. But they follow the act of thinking, they are results of actual thinking. The colours are the objects of corporeal vision (trees, clouds etc. for example) or intellectual concepts (ideas of trees, clouds) and they are immaterial and in the human mind. But first of all, they are representations, explications (Darstellungen) and signs of the unknowable God and the real true world. Therefore we have to say that man in his deepest depth contains everything wrapped—or is in his deepest depth God: "hominis sub-

stantia omnium in se naturarum substantias totius universitatis plenitudinem re ipsa complectitur..." (Pico 1969: 38; italics mine). (The substance of man, that encompasses in the thing itself the substances of all natures and the plenitude of the whole universe...). And when man actualizes his infinite capacities, he unfolds or explains God. That is man's "dignity". This—of course—smacks a bit of heresy. The consequences of this are, in a way, revolutionary, although Nicolaus Cusanus thought nearly the same: man creates and produces by his intellect a picture of the real world—or to be more strict: he constructs perspectivally in himself a "Weltbild"—just as G o d in His divinity created all being truthfully (Nicolai de Cusa 1988). T o be an "imago Dei" then means to be a creator of things as mental signs. A traditional ontological hierarchy of three worlds—ineluding for example angels, celestial souls and sublunar creatures— is then a human invention or a tale, a fiction in the true sense of the word. There is no reality of a separate order of things, unless we mentally create them for ourselves as a universe of signa/signs (Thumfart 1996a: 373-393). This I would like to call a transcendental-philosophical position in total contrast to classical ontology. Pico, and this is an important point, does not repeat any sort of traditional philosophy may it be Plato, Plotin, Aristode or Thomas, as so many scholars thought (Garin 1937: 198; Nardi 1948: 69; Kristeller 1965: 69; Reinhardt 1989: 208; Euler 1998: 156-166). He is neither a neoplatonian nor a neoaristotelian philosopher, nor a neoscotist or anything of the sort. O f course, he cited Plato—as a hundred others—but what he meant by these quotations, is radically different from the original ontological context and meaning. So Plato's or Plotin's philosophy are not of very much use for understanding Pico. The perspectivical, pictorial representation of truth is foremost the result of an individual craftsmanship. Each human being—Pico mentions fishermen, cooks, butchers and slaves—has his own individual Weltbild depending on his point of view (Pico 1969: 2). But every human being is also, just like Lorenzo Valla said, part of a specific tradition of conceptualizing the world (Valla 1987: 139—145). This tradition is a resource for developing one's own Weltbild, to make it richer or to learn and integrate new ideas and concepts. But all traditions are equal in respect to truth. They are different, sometimes containing very different representations of God, some inventing angels, others inventing black holes, some purgatory, some the sun in the centre surrounded by the planets. 1 But because all world-views reveal God, all are justified. You can call this a philosophical reading of the idea of tolerance. This includes the tradition of Cabbala. N o w we have reached the point from which we can analyze Pico's understanding of Cabbala. But before, I'd like to say what I do not what to treat. I do not want to deal with the complex of questions surrounding the problem of which cabbalistic or orthodox rabbinic texts Pico did actually know and make use of and of who taught them to him. With the exception of a very small corpus of texts this effort is impossible and I think

And indeed, Cardinal Bellarmin, the so-called opponent of Galileo Galilei, read Pico and praised him (Redondi 1991: 94-100).

senseless (Wirszubsky 1969: 196-199; Wirszubsky 1989: 168-172). The reason is at least twofold. First: We do have a list of Pico's library. This list contains altogether 175 books in Hebrew. But as Pearl Kibre noted, 68 of these books are not registered with an author or even a tide (Kibre 1966: 39-41). So we definitively do know nothing about 68 manuscripts. I therefore regard it as a bit risky to state, as many scholars have done, that Pico was influenced by or was imitating this or that specific "main-text" (Garin 1937: 198-202; Anagnine 1937: 115—118). H o w can we postulate a main text, when we are missing nearly half of the Hebrew library? The second reason will become clear, I hope. So instead of asking which text influenced Pico most, I'd like to ask: how did Pico read these texts and how did he present his readings of cabbalistic texts to a reader? In his two forewords to his sevenfold interpretation of the first part of Genesis (the Heptaplus) and his afterword Pico openly declares what Cabbala means to him. Curiously enough, these three small but difficult and, in a way, modern texts have always or mosdy been neglected. The situation in which Pico deals with the Cabbala is that of interpreting the Bible. The Bible is a very special text. The Bible is a true picture of infinite truth: "ut sit veré scriptura haec Moseos imago mundi expressa" (Pico 1969: 8). This has to do with the situation in which the Bible was written. Moses stood on the Montain and he saw the world in the view of God, id est, as an infinite unity. As a messager he had to or wanted to bring this truth to the people. But people are so weak that they cannot stand the overwhelming light of truth. So Moses had to speak with a veiled face (Pico 1969: 9). The problem then was: how can the unbearable infinite truth be brought to people? With the help of the Holy Spirit, Moses wrote a text in which he used very simple words. But these words and their disposition are in truth infinite. Each word therefore has infinite meanings. The Bible brings truth to man in that each term means everything and nothing concrete. Imagine this situation for a traditional reader. There seems to be a real world, the divine creation on one side. And there is a text on the other side. The text, the Bible, claims to represent the real world. Normally one sign/word refers to some one thing. Water as a sign in a text refers to the real material water outside. So for a reader it seems not to be that difficult to detect the true meaning of one term. The meaning of a term is defined through distinct real things. But now imagine the problem with Pico. There is no real water outside unless you have created this water for yourself by thinking: man defines what being is for himself. Your world is your definidon. So the meaning of the scriptural term water is not detected by comparing it with a material thing outside the reader's mind, but through what you define and picture as water. Therefore what Moses meant is what you think Moses meant. The reader defines the meaning of a text. And this is true for every sort of text. (You define what Plato meant, for example). The reference of the Holy Scripture is your Weltbild. But as your Weltbild will never capture the truth, you will never capture the true meaning of the Bible. Then the Bible is God. The result of this is that every reader has a different understanding of the Bible, because he has different world-views. A butcher will understand the Bible

in another way than, say, a taxi-driver or a student of chemistry. That was the case, for example, with the miller Menocchio in Friaul in the late 16th century, as Carlo Ginzburg had shown. For Menocchio the creation of heaven and earth was like the coagulation of milk to cheese. He read the first parts of Genesis with his everyday experiences—and is justified therein according to Pico (Ginzburg 1983: 90-95). What does all this have to do with Cabbala? Well, the idea of an infinite scripture is a cabbalistic idea of course, formulated by Abraham Abulafia among others (Scholem 1980: 143-148). But I do not know whether Pico got this idea from Abulafia and I do not want to speculate about this. You can find infinite readings in the Christian context as well, think of Mussato (Thumfart 1996a: 96-99). I want to focus on another aspect. In his afterword and his Oratio de dignitate hominis Pico states that on the mountain Moses was given not only the Bible but also the true interpretation of the scripture, and this true interpretation is called Cabbala: " H o c eodem penitus modo cum ex Dei preacepto vera ilia legis interpretatio Moisi deitus tradita revelantur, dicta est Cabala" (Pico 1990: 60). So Cabbala, at least in the eyes of Pico, promises to give us, the reader, the true understanding of the scripture. The true understanding can only be: to relate a mosaic term to the real world—not to our world-views. This is the promise and the claim. But see what happens. Pico gives an example. He takes the first phrase of Genesis: "in principio—bereshit " and states that in this phrase "the whole order of the creation of the world and things" is openly explained: "universam de mundi rerumque omnium creadone rationem, in una dictione, apertarn et explicatam" (Pico 1969: 60). He then combines and recombines the Hebrew letters in quite an arbitrary way. For example: combine the first and third letter, we get ab, if we double the first and add the second, we get bebar, when we take the first three, we get bara, and so on. The method is of course traditional. The result of the permutation is the following sentence in Latin: "Pater in filio, et per filium principium et finem, sive quietem creavit, caput, ignem et fundamentum magni hominis, foedere b o n o " (Pico 1969: 61). (God created in the son and through the son, the beginning, end, and rest, the head, the fire, and the fundament of the great man with a good pact). Pico goes on by saying: For a Christian, it is not hard to understand what "father" and " s o n " mean here. But what the head, the fire and the fundament/basis refer to, is for " u s " — Chrisdans—a bit dark: "paulo obscuriosa" (Pico 1969: 61). T o solve the riddle, we have to take a look into the manuscripts of diverse cabbalists. There we will find—like in an encyclopedia—explanations or translations in that a way that we can understand these terms: caput means "fons cognitionis"/intellectus, ignis means "fons motus"/rational soul, fundamentum "principium generationis" /sight (Pico 1969: 61). With the help of the Christian tradition, the permutation-method and the help of the cabbalistic encyclopaedia, we figured out these specific meanings of the Hebrew word/sign bereshit. But, especially in the second case, we understand the terms only when translated in our own mental language. But again, what

looks like a translation done by others, is in one way a definition by the reader. Because what you find in the cabbalistic encyclopaedias are signs which you think correspond in meaning (by analogy) to your tradition. And in so doing, you have learned at the same time a hitherto undetected level in your own traditional conceptualization and creation of worlds, signs and connotations. Well, this explanation of bereshit sounds and has to sound very Christian, but it is first and foremost Pico's own philosophical position. In the deepest depth the great man, i.e, man and being/universum, is God, created in Him. And man produces a fictional world-view by unfolding the infinite truth/being in a picture. This picture is informed by diverse traditions—the tradition of a threefold world with angels, souls etc. etc. And according to that cosmological fiction man tells a fictional story about himself and imagines himself as a microcosmos divided in three parts: intellect, soul and sense. What do we get then, when we use Cabbala to interpret the scripture truthfully? We get our own idea of perspectivism. But be careful. This works on two different levels. The first and higher level is that human knowledge unfolds the infinite G o d and being. This idea is present in all traditions (because it is necessarily true—what I couldn't show here). The second level is how this idea is expressed, the words, traditional symbols and intellectual instruments used. These expressions are necessarily different in each tradition. What then is Cabbala for Pico? First: His readings on Cabbala are confirmalions of his own philosophy—or other ways to say the same. The claim of telling the truth about the world is deconstructed to confirm on the contrary the whole idea of transcendental-philosophy and scriptural hermeneutics. O f course, you can find elements of cabbalistic doctrines such as those mentioned above. But these specific ontological dogmata take on a totally different meaning, when they are integrated in and defined through Pico's philosophical theory. Second: Cabbala is a specific way to enrich your traditional discourse of meaning by analogy, just as Christianity might be a discourse to enrich Cabbala. But all that is just your creative play with signs, signifiers, defined meanings and connotadons. Taken together then, Cabbala isn't Cabbala in Pico, just as Plato isn't Plato in Pico, and just like Christianity isn't Christianity in Pico. This is the second reason why I regard the search for influence as superfluous, to paraphrase Harold Bloom. So, Pico is neither a Christian, nor a cabbalist, nor a Christian cabbalist, nor a cabbalistic Christian—like some catholic theologians want him to be (Greive 1975: 144; Euler 1998: 119)—nor an Islamic Christian cabbalist: he is a philosopher who developed a new way of thinking that recurs in Giordano Bruno, Leibniz, Berkeley (I think), Giambattista Vico, and, in a way, in Ernst von Glasersfeld.

Chances and Dangers Pico's philosophy creates ambivalences. O n the one side, it pleades for tolerance. All concepts and all traditions are justified, all represent G o d in a million ways—just as there are a million ways to God. This radically blocks intellectual crusades. O n the other side, Pico opens up a contingency. If anything goes, all counts as nothing. If you want to make it count, you have to cling to your tradi-

tion even more fiercely than before. You have to persuade yourself that there is no equality in concepts. One of the ways to do this is intolerance and hatred. Arbitrary exclusion and brutal closure stabilizes the ingroup and makes you forget the common basis—a problem and movement that has been prominent and dramatic since the late Renaissance, think of Luther and the Church. And then a State, which voluntarily defines what counts and what doesn't count as tradition, and is accepted therein, is not far away, as Thomas Hobbes showed (Hobbes 1984: 96-99; Thumfart 1996b: 95-113). Pico himself is an example. His attacks on Jewish traditions, his views expressed in his letters and asides in his books are indeed crude anti-semitic prejudices, artificial walls, ending the game of infinite reference. So Shlomo Simonsohn is quite right, as many others are, when he sees that Pico is guilty of dogmatic Christianity and of following and in a way accepting Savonarola's theo-political terror in Florence. But Pico is guilty not because of his philosophy, but because of forgetting or willfully ignoring and without any reason his own philosophy. But this is probably one of the worst things you can say about a philosopher.

Literature Anagnine, E. 1937. Giovanni Pico delta Mirandola. Sincretismo re/igioso filosofico 1463-1494. Bari: Laterza. Braider, Ch. 1993. RÍfiguring the Real. Picture and Modernity in World and Image 1400-1700. Princeton: University Press. Euler, W. A. 1998. "Piaphilosophia" et "docta religio. " Theologie und Religion bei Marsilio Fiäno und Giovanni Pico della Mirandola. München: Fink. Garin, E. 1937. Giovanni Pico della Mirandola. Vita e dotrina. Firenze. Ginzburg, C. 1983. Der Käse und die Würmer, F r a n k f u r t / M . : Europäische Verlagsanstalt. Greive, H. 1975. "Die christliche Kabbala des Giovanni Pico della Mirandola." Archiv für Kulturgeschichte 57, 141-161. H o b b e s , T h . 1984. Leviathan oder Stoff, Vorm und Gewalt eines kirchlichen und bürgerlichen Staates. F r a n k f u r t / M . : Suhrkamp. Kibre, P. 1966. The Library of Giovanni Pico della Mirandola. 2. edition N e w York: AMSPress. Kristeller, P. O . 1965. "Giovanni Pico della Mirandola and His Sources." In L'Opéra e il pensiero di Giovanni Pico della Mirandola nella storia dell'umanesimo. Vol. I. Firenze, 35—84. Machiave‫ש‬, N . 1993. Geschichte von Flore/1%. 3. Aufl. Zürich: Manesse. Nardi, B. 1948. "La mistica averroistica e Pico della Mirandola." In Umanesimo e Machiavellismo. Ed. E. CasteW. Padova, 56-72. Nicolai de Cusa 1988. Idiota de sapientia. Hamburg: Meiner. Pico della Mirandola, G. et della Mirandola, G . F. 1969. Opera Omnia. T o m u s I. Basilea 1557. Reprint Hildesheim. Pico della Mirandola, G . 1990. Über die Würde des Menschen. De hominis dignitate. Hamburg: Meiner. Redondi, P. 1991. Galilei, der Ketzer. München: Dtv. Reinhardt, H. 1989. Freiheit Gott. Der Grundgedanke des Systematikers Giovanni Pico della Mirandola (1463-1494). Weinheim: V C H . Scholem, G . 1974. "Einleitung." In A. C. Herrera, Pforte des Himmels. F r a n k f u r t / M . : Suhrkamp. , 1980. Diejüdische Mystik in ihren Hauptströmungen. F r a n k f u r t / M . : Suhrkamp.

Simonsohn, Sh. 1996. "Giovanni Pico della Mirandola on Jews and Judaism." In From

Witness to Witchcraft. Jews and Judaism in Mediaeval Christian Thought. Ed. J. Cohen. Wiesbaden, 403-417.

Thumfart, A. 1996a. Die Perspektive und die Zeichen. Hermetische Verschlüsselungen bei Giovanni Pico della Mirandola. München: Fink. , 1996b. Staatsdiskurs und Selbstbewußtsein. Sprachlich-rhetorische Formen ihrer Institutionalisierung. Amsterdam: Gordon+Breach.

Yates, F. Α. 1991. Die okkulte Philosophie im Elisabethanischen Zeitalter. Amsterdam: Ed. Weber.

Valla, L. 1987. Über den freien Willen. De libero arbitrio. München: Fink. Wirszubsky, Ch. 1969. "Giovanni Pico's Book of Job." Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld

Institutes 32, 171-199. , 1989. Pico della Mirandola's Encounter with Jewish Mysticism. Cambridge, Mass.-London.

PART

TWO

JEWISH

ART

STUDIES ON J E W I S H A R T IN T H E LAST FIFTY YEARS A SURVEY GABRIELLE SED-RAJNA CNRS, Paris, France

There is probably no research field related to Jewish culture which would have undergone such a spectacular change and fulgurating development during the last fifty years as did the studies devoted to Jewish Art. T h e notion itself of a Jewish Art was, up until the last decades, a source of embarrassment and misunderstandings. In Jewish culture art was in a way comparable to the p o o r relafive of the family, about w h o m n o one really wanted to talk. In fact, no one really succeeded in defining what the designation "Jewish Art" covered, much as less the characteristics of an art which could be labeled by this denomination. Most of the historians who tried to deal with the subject fell back on stereotypes, trying to justify the absence of significant works of art by the impact of the Second Commandment, without however taking the trouble to analyze precisely the meaning of this text. T o fill the gap, lengthy studies were devoted to ceremonial objects, present in great number in all the Jewish Museums, without ever making clear that these objects, however important they are for the history of the different Jewish communities, are not works of art, but works of craftsmanship. O n the other hand, the same historians were eager to appropriate and label as "Jewish" the creations of modern artists who, though of Jewish origin, freed themselves consciously from all religious tradition and deliberately assumed an orientation which was in harmony with one of the various tendencies of modern art, while keeping a cautious distance from any religious considération on any level whatsoever. It has to be admitted that the question is complex, and it is not always easy to make clear-cut definitions. That is why, each time a new Jewish Museum is established or a new book is planned, the same problems have to be discussed. Today, however, there is the possibility of getting a clearer image, on condition of course of being ready to give up preconceived ideas. In the first part of this survey we want to analyze the events that helped provide a clearer image of Jewish art, and the circumstances which stimulated the promotion of its study. In the second part of this talk we will attempt to evaluate some of the results obtained with the help of these studies. T h e first and most spectacular event which brought about a significant change in our knowledge of this field was the discovery of the paintings of the prayer hall in the Doura synagogue. T h e fact is probably sufficiently well-known to allow me to mention only briefly the principal stages of the discovery. T h e synagogue, located in the city "Europos," established by Nicanor, general of

Seleucus I, in 303 BCE, on the west bank of the Euphrates, was fully unearthed after ten years of archaeological campaigns, in the year 1934/35. However, because of various handicaps, the most important of which was the war, the magisterial Final Report of Carl Kraeling 1 did not appear until 1956. In 1964 the three volumes devoted to Dura were published by Erwin Goodenough, as volumes 9 - 1 1 of his comprehensive series of Jewish Symbols in the Greco Roman Penod.2 From then on, up to the present day, the chain of studies and publications on the paintings of the synagogue has been uninterrupted. The last significant contribution was published in 1990, by Kurt Weitzmann and Herbert Kessler, under the tide The Frescoes of the Dura Synagogue and Christian Art.‫ נ‬The exhaustive Bibliography at the end of their book gives a faint idea of all the contributions to which the paintings have given rise. And it is a fact that the existence of a synagogue decorated with figurative paintings, and, moreover, their unexpected relation to Christian works of art from later periods as has been identified step by step, sparked a reconsideration of all former theories concerning Jewish art in general, as well as those concerning the emergence of Christian art, and in particular the relation between the two. It is neither the proper occasion here, nor have we time enough to deal in detail with all the problems raised by the paintings of the Dura synagogue. We cannot however avoid summarizing the main points about which the studies devoted to the frescoes have entirely renewed our knowledge. The first, and not the least important point is of course that the frescoes provided irrefutable proof that the Second Commandment has never impeded any artistic creation. A careful reading of the biblical text could have lead much earlier to a similar conclusion, but preconceived ideas prevented an honest interpretation of the text, which prohibits only representations of G o d — a condidon fully respected in the Dura frescoes. Here was the proof that art did exist in Judaism, and that it was admitted even in such a solemn place as a prayer hall. O n e can go even further: indeed, an honest reading of certain rabbinical texts suggests that such paintings existed in other community buildings as well, even in Palestine. In the Jerusalem Talmud, Abodah Zarah, Rabbi Yohanan (3th c.) states that "painted wall decorations can be authorized." It seems useless to remark that there is no necessity to authorize something that no one ever wanted, or would have tried, to practice. In other words, all arguments attempting to justify the absence of art in Judaism by referring to religious prohibidons have lost their pertinence. The second important fact that became evident was that the Dura frescoes provide the earliest known example of continuous biblical illustrations. The great number of rabbinical elements integrated in the visual version of the biblical accounts leave no doubt that the paintings were conceived and composed by craftsmen belonging to the Jewish community, who were familiar with rabbini1

2 5

Kraeling, C. H. 1956. The Synagogue. The Excavations at Dura Europos. (Final Report, vol. 8,1). New Haven. Goodenough, E. R. 1953—68. ]ewish Symbols In the Greco-Roman Period. Princeton. Weitzmann, K-Kessler, H. L. 1990. The Frescoes of the Synagogue of Dura and Christian Art. Washington: Dumbarton Oaks.

cal literature. More than that, the paintings show such complex and elaborate compositions that they cannot be considered first attempts to visualize the biblical account. In other words, most scholars who studied the frescoes arrived at the conclusion that the painters of the synagogue must have disposed of models, probably in the form of scrolls of illustrated biblical or midrashic texts. This means that the illustration of the Bible, enriched by rabbinical elements, did exist before the middle of the third century—date of the synagogue paintings— within Judaism, and hence that art based on the Bible, which became the principal subject of European art for more than a millenium, had been started within the Jewish civilization. Finally, the third point that research on the frescoes has gradually established is the complete dependence of several early Christian monuments and illustrated manuscripts on the iconography of Dura. It is clear that the wall paintings of the synagogue could not have been the direct sources of any Christian work of art, as the earliest among them—the paintings of the Roman catacombs of the Via Latina—are dated from the fourth century. The paintings of the synagogue of Dura have been visible for not more than eleven years, from 245 CE—date of the accomplishment of the decoration—to 256 CE, when the paintings were hidden behind the sand in order to preserve the building from the attack of the Sassanides. This very short lapse of time could not have been sufficient for the paintings to become known beyond the borders of the city or to exercise any kind of influence on other works of art. But as was mentioned, Dura itself was already a second stage, composed with the help of pre-extant models. The hypothesis which seems the most probable—or may be the only possible one—is that the Christian works of art which reveal affinity with the iconography of the Dura frescoes, depend on the same models that were used for the Dura paintings themselves. And, as several arguments invite us to suppose, these models were themselves of Jewish origin, elaborated somewhere in an area where Jewish communities were active. Researches related to the Dura synagogue had a double effect: the scientific world became aware of the existence of an art within Judaism, the history of which now became traceable from as early as the 3rd century, and consequently, the discipline of the history of Jewish art was born. Moreover, closely related to this discipline, researches on the genesis and the history of biblical illustrations became the most popular subject among art historians. Scholars from all countries, and the most eminent ones, became interested in the problem and produced an ever-increasing number of books and articles devoted to it. In the US, besides Carl Kraeling, Joseph Gutman, Rachel Wischnitzer, Richard Brilliant are also Kurt Weitzmann, Herbert Kessler, Ernst Kitzinger; in Israel Michael AviYonah, Bezalel Narkiss, Elisheva Revel-Neher, Lee Levine; among the European scholars Carl-Otto Nordström, Heinz-Ludwig Hempel; in Austria Ursula and Kurt Schubert, and lately Otto Mazal; in France, France Cumont, Du Mesnil du Buisson, Henri Stern and André Grabar—a list which is far from being exhaustive and hopefully is not at an end. The monuments which reveal affinities with the Dura program are of a wide range, from the already mentioned 4 t h century catacombs of the Via Latina in

Rome, the Basilicas of Santa Maria Maggiore in Rome and of San Vitale in Ravenna, including many of the ancient manuscripts, Greek as well as Ladn, going from the 6 t h century Vienna Genesis to the prestigious Byzantine (Vat. Reg.l) and Carolingian Bibles of the 9 t h and 10 th centuries, without forgetting the enigmatic 7 th century Latin manuscript known by the name of the Ashburnham Pentateuch to which Bezalel Narkiss devoted his research during the last years. Interestingly, in many of these manuscripts, which do not originate from a Jewish milieu, several midrashic elements were incorporated in the iconography, confirming the hypothesis that the painters worked according to models going back to Jewish sources. Up to the very last years, no monument of Palestine has revealed any argument leading to the supposition that the iconography elaborated in the Dura synagogue would have been known to those who planned the decoration of the Galilean synagogues. True, nothing is known about the wall decoration of these synagogues, as the partition walls have not survived in any of them. There were several outstanding mosaic floors unearthed, in Hammath Tiberias, in Beth Shean and Beth Alpha, based on an entirely different iconographical program. The motifs of these floor mosaics were taken over from contemporary Roman monuments, with their Zodiac circles, and Season personifications, the liberty in the selection of the motifs going so far as representing the Sun god Helios in the center of the Zodiac circle in the synagogues of Hammath Tiberias and Beth Alpha. However, these elements were not simply taken over and assembled, they were integrated in a newly planned composition where the cosmic motifs are dominated by the image of the Ark of the Covenant, with its implements, flanked by two menorot, which stood as symbols of the divine realm, replacing a direct representation of the divinity, in full respect of the religious prohibition. Even though the main elements of these mosaic floor compositions attest to a free acceptance of contemporary Roman art, by adding the specific Jewish symbols, placed as they are above the cosmic symbols of the Sun and the Zodiac signs, the images were transformed into a visual expression of a hieratic Universe, dominated by the invisible divinity, alluded to by way of symbols, and to w h o m all other beings on the different levels of the visible world are subdued— in full agreement with the Jewish concept of the Universe. In spite of the great number of synagogues excavated, many of them with beautiful and well preserved mosaic floors, up to the very last years the art of the Galilean synagogues did not reveal any affinity with the iconography of the Dura synagogue. Even this has changed recendy, by the discovery in 1993 of the Sepphoris synagogue. The mosaic floor of this synagogue shows a few innovadons compared to the general scheme as attested to in Hammath Tiberias and Beth Alpha. Besides the elements symbolizing the three levels of the Universe— divine, cosmic and human—a few narrative episodes were incorporated in the composition. O n e of them represents Aaron preparing the sacrifice at the entrance of the Tabernacle. This motive appears also on the west wall of the Dura prayer hall, hence on the most prominent place of the room. The same episode was also taken over in some other works considered to be based on Jewish

models, among them the Ashburnham Pentateuch. The presence of this motive in the mosaic floor of Sepphoris provides the proof that some elements of the iconography used in the Dura frescoes were also known in the Galilee. It is particularly meaningful that the link between Dura and the western synagogues should be attested precisely in Sepphoris, the city where during the first centuries of our era representadves and exegetes of both the Jewish and the Christian communities were in direct contact. Considering the fact that several arguments suggest that the initial attempts to visualize narrative sequences of the Bible took place in the area of Antioche, Sepphoris was particularly well situated to be among the first beneficiaries of these new creations. The discovery of Dura gave a most beneficial impetus for research on, and around Jewish Art. What was still needed was a steady support or an official channel to organize the scholarly contributions in this new field. And this leads us to the second event which has changed the destiny of this discipline most significantly: I am alluding to the establishment of the State of Israel and a few years later the creation of a Department of Art History at the Hebrew University. The development of this very young department is inseparable from the name of Bezalel Narkiss. Narkiss started to teach at the Hebrew University in 1963. From this date on, this very active, efficient and imaginative scholar, ereated year after year new programs, new projects, in Israel and in other countries, wherever he found colleagues ready to collaborate. His activity was organized around three axes: first and foremost to educate a new generation of art historians by teaching them to work on a scientific level comparable to those practiced in other disciplines at the University. The second step was to create an international forum, with a periodical as its highlight in order to promote and centralize publications on Jewish Art and related fields, in a highly esthetical and technical presentation. The periodical, which during the first ten years of its career appeared under the tide ]oumal ofJewish Art, then simply Jewish Art, was, and still is open to all scholars who want to publish new contributions, new discoveries, new ideas on the subject. One can hardly overestimate the importance and the stimulating effect of such a centralized medium for publications on a defined subject, which at the same time creates connections between colleagues working in the same field. Intellectual exchange with colleagues was also ensured by the organization of international meetings, symposia, colloquiums, where scholars having common interests, coming from different parts of the world, met and could discuss the results of their research. A further step was the creation, in 1979, of the Center for Jewish Art. Affiliated to the Hebrew University, but functioning mainly thanks to private supporters, the activity of the Center is manifold. It is the place were all graduate students who are willing, receive training in order to prepare them for an active role as museum curators, educators or art historians. These students also take an active part in the different projects of the Center, which function all over the places where manuscript collections, ceremonial objects or numismatic collections await scientific indexing. In the course of the years, the Center extended its investigations to ancient synagogues, and then to European synagogues from different periods. With the "fall of the wall" in Berlin, and the consequent

opening of the Eastern Jewish communities, the Center considered it as a duty to lead repeated campaigns in Eastern European cities, to record all the synagogue buildings and ceremonial object collections which have survived. The task was immense, but also urgent, because in the absence of any care for conservation, all monuments were in a disastrous state and many of them have disappeared since. The very section with which the activity of the Center started — at a moment when the Center was but a project, in 1969—was the Index of Hebrew Illuminated Manuscripts kept in various European libraries. This Index could start thanks to a cultural agreement between France and Israel, and with the active contribution of the Institut de Recherche et d'Histoire des Textes (Paris), where I was the head of the Hebrew department for thirty years. At first, the work itself was done by Narkiss and myself. Step by step, colleagues and students got interested in it and a litde group was formed who took in charge the execution. At the start, the descriptions were done by hand, on cards, with somewhat archaic handicraft methods. During this first stage of the Index manuscripts of the Kaufmann collection in Budapest, of the Royal Library in Copenhagen, of the University Library in Jerusalem and a small selection of the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris have been published. The project is going on, but now it is elaborated with the help of a computer software, the photographs are scanned and the C D version is in the making. The arrival of students and scholars from the East European countries to Israel opened a new period in the activities of the Center. O n the one hand, many of them found the possibility to get professional training and enthusiastically joined the Center, which at the same time increased in number and could again and again plan new projects. O n the other hand the Center lead several missions at different places—in Russia, Ukraine, Romania, Georgia, Poland, but also in Tunisia, former Yugoslavia, Greece, Bulgaria—in order to record all that has survived the devastations during the war and the communist regimes. Recendy documentation also started in Austria and Germany. The Index has two new sections. O n e devoted to synagogue architecture in Eastern European countries: Belorussia, Romania, the Caucasus mountains, and Podolia, but also Poland, Germany, England, Ireland. The records were done locally, during expeditions lead to the different places, the computerization having been done at the Center in Jerusalem. Another project concerns what the Center calls "Modern Jewish Art." In this section the works of several Jewish artists, established in Russia, Jerusalem, the United States or even in Paris, are documented and computerized. The registered data are for the moment in the archives of the Center, others have been published or are awaiting an imminent publication. So far the events. In the last part of this talk we will attempt to identify in which way, and to what extant, did the studies on art prompted by the events of the last decades, contribute to improve our general knowledge concerning Judaism. O u r intention is not to dress a list, just to point out through a few examples in which way this

hitherto neglected discipline opened new approaches to otherwise well known facts. O n e of the fields which has progressed in a spectacular way during the last decades was that of the excavations in Jerusalem and in Galilee. A great part of what has survived in the area around the Temple can now be visited and even freely investigated. In this domain, one of the most surprising results of the excavations was that they confirmed point by point the descriptions given by Flavius Josephus. The excavations of the Galilean synagogues improved our knowledge concerning the architecture of the period from the third to the sixth or seventh centuries as well. It is intriguing however, that none of the studies devoted to these buildings mentions the absolute novelty of this architecture. With the disparition of the Temple, and the separate space reserved for the Holy of Holies, the main part of the building planned for the religious office, the prayer hall, became accessible for all members—at least all male members — o f the community. This concept of a cult hall open to all participants was an entirely revolutionary innovation, never attested to before in the religious life of the Middle East. It is however this very concept which was to be adopted by the Christians as well as by the Moslems, and it is this very model according to which all religious buildings were built in the Middle East and in Europe, and still are up to our days. This original, revolutionary concept was inaugurated by the synagogues, the buildings destined for the Jewish cult. The destruction of the Temple has hence been the turning point in the process of transformation of the religious life and in the shaping of its modern ways, not only for Judaism, but for all three monotheistic religions. N o doubt, the buildings are only the formal expressions of a much deeper reality, but it is worth-while to remark that, as in several other cases, Judaism was at the origin of this transformation. The new religious attitude which started after the destruction of the Temple, was based on two abstract (metaphysical ?) concepts: absence and expectation. In Judaism, the divine presence, the Shekinah, was henceforth absent, and all religious ardor was oriented towards the expectation of the coming of the Messiah. The doctrine of absence and expectation was taken over by Christianity, even if the contents of the concepts were adapted to the special historical data of the new religion, where the expectation is oriented towards the second advent of the Messiah. The most expressive artistic symbol of this expectation is found on the west wall of the prayer hall of the Dura synagogue, in the painting above the ciborium which housed the Tora ark. The panel, which belonged to the first decoration program, is inhabited by a huge vine richly ornamented with leaves, but devoid of fruits. According to the convincing interpretation of Herbert Kessler, 4 this conspicuous absence of grapes alludes to two prophetic texts, Is 4:2, where it is written " O n that day the plant that the Lord has grown shall become glorious in its beauty, and the fruit of the land shall be the pride and splendor of the survivors of Israel." In the same sense, Zech 8:12, predicted that

See the chapter by H. L. Kessler in Weitzmann, K.-Kessler, H. L. The Frescoes of the Synagogue of Dura and Christian Art, as in note 3.

dieted that on the day the Lord of Hosts comes, "the vine shall yield its fruit." As Kessler remarks, in eliminating the grape clusters from the vine motif, the painter at Dura intended to refer to the plant of God that will bear its fruit only in the Messianic age. This symbolism of expectation, expressed by the unusual iconography of the Dura painting, was also referred to by the new architectural concept of the Jewish religious buildings, the synagogues, through the absence of a space reserved to the divine presence. And, as the same symbolism of absence and expectation was also adopted by Christianity, the special architectural program created for the synagogues, could be adopted without significant changes for Christian churches. In the second phase of the Dura paintings, the image of the vine was enriched by several new motifs. At the base of the vine, two scenes were added, one on each side of the trunk. O n the left hand side was painted the scene of Jacob blessing his sons, on the right hand side Jacob, with crossed hands, blessing the sons of Joseph, visualizing precisely the biblical text. A third scene has been added at the top of the vine: the enthroned king Messiah, surrounded by the twelve tribes. As Kessler has righdy pointed out, 5 these three scenes show that the iconography of Dura has been composed to support the Jewish point of view against the Christians in the intense debate which took place between the two communities during the period when the synagogue was redecorated. According to the Christian point of view, the destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem was the proof that the special covenant of G o d with the Jews had passed to the Gentiles, and from then on, the Old Testament was to be understood typologically. Jews defended their own scripture by cleaving to the words of the Bible, particularly those that bestowed eternal blessings on Israel. Many of the biblical passages represented in the Dura prayer hall are among the central theses of Jewish-Christian polemics of the second and third centuries. Among them, the sacrifice of Isaac, Jacob's blessings, and the Messiah who was still awaited for the Jews and who, according to them will be an earthly ruler and restore the Jewish kingdom on earth. These are the principal subjects of the second version of the painting above the ciborium in the Dura synagogue. All the topics represented confirm the Jewish claims against the Christians by visualizing the text of the Bible read literally. The Dura scenes proclaimed also that the sufferings of Israel were not to be interpreted as proofs of the passing away of divine favor. O n the contrary, they confirm that God's protecdon was still effective, and just as the exiles to Egypt and Babylon, and the persecudons of Haman, Nabuchadnezzar and the Philistines were thwarted, so will the diaspora end in a golden age of a Jewish rule under the Messiah. The visual rendering of the biblical accounts was particularly effective in asserting this basic message, and it is in prompting the Jews to formulate historical arguments in their pictures that Christianity seems to have played a key role in the evolution of Jewish art. Jews discovered that narrative art, because it was accessible to large audiences, was particularly forceful in laying historical claims before their 5

See note 4.

antagonists. Christians then responded by adopting the same system, they even adopted several specific iconographical formulae, but turned them to their own purposes. By the second half of the third century, narrative programs were used by both groups to expose their interpretations. In the following centuries, these visual commentaries continued to be refined and enriched, and extended to various media. After the fourth century, as the victory of Christianity became confirmed, Jews withdrew into their own particular traditions, and after this period no more decorated synagogues are known. In contrast, the visualized exposition of the Bible became a continuous tradition in Christianity, in monuments as well as in other media, up to the end of the Renaissance. Although on the Jewish side no continuous biblical illustrations are known from after the fourth century, there is one strong argument which suggests that the tradition of narrative illustrations clinging to the literal interpretation of the biblical text, was not entirely lost but, somewhere and somehow, has survived. The proof of this supposition is provided by a series of sephardi Haggadot of the 14 th century which contain, at the head of the text, a long sequence of biblical illustrations, several elements of which seem to depend on iconographical traditions already used in Dura. The ways of transmitting this tradition have not yet been identitied. It is known, however, that this tradition reached only the Jewish communities living in Spain. In conclusion, it can be stated that art based on the Bible started initially as a support for both the Jewish and the Christian exegetes whose ambition was to convey and diffuse their religious propaganda. Indeed, the powerful impact of images, as the most effective way to reach a large, and even illiterate audience, was not invented in the 20 t h century. Images were used with predilection as the most effective means of propaganda by political and religious authorities of all times. Leaving the art of Dura and of the synagogues, we will turn our attention to different monuments of the Middle Ages. Everybody will agree that the very place where we find ourselves today, provides the most illustrious examples for what has to be said on this subject. Toledo has the two most famous mediaeval buildings which originally served as synagogues. The earlier one, known today as the church Santa Maria la Bianca, was built in 1203, in the purest mudejar style inherited from the Omeyyads. In 1411, the synagogue was transformed into a church, and this could be done without drastic changes in its plan or its general dispositions, thus providing a tangible proof of what was said above concerning the convergence, at the highest level, of the three monotheistic religions. The style of the architectural elements and of the ornaments were not yet transformed when the building changed destination. The church, as formerly the synagogue, kept the purest Omeyyad style, and this for a very simple reason. Indeed, it is highly probable that the Jewish community, even in Spain where it enjoyed an exceptionally favorable economical situation, did not have its own workers, its own craftsmen, but charged with the material execution of its monuments those who were employed to build all other monuments of the city, Moslem workers until 1085, Christian craftsmen after this date. This building

thus provides the most enlightening explanation of why there has never developed a specific "Jewish style" in the diaspora. A work of art is realized by the combination of two components: the basic thought or contents, reflected by the main dispositions and by the general form, and the material reali2ati0n depending on handicrafts executed by trained workers. The Jewish societies in the diaspora were never complete societies and hence did not dispose of their own working classes. The buildings destined for their use, were executed by workers who belonged to the surrounding society, and who practiced their craft according to their own methods, regardless of the commissionaire. Consequendy, the often used argument to deny the existence of a Jewish art, namely the absence of a specific style, is but the mirror image of the particular situation of the Jewish communities of the diaspora who were dependant in all material realizations on technical workers educated according to the norms of a different culture. This is true for the products of all Jewish communities, be it in Europe or in the Far East, and is demonstrated in a particularly attracting way by the beautiful buildings of Toledo. The same remarks concern the synagogue known today by the name "El Trânsito." However, owing to the fact that it was a later building, and because it was destined to be used as a private prayer hall, it's mudejar characteristics are less conspicuous. Moreover, the ornamental inscriptions on the walls written in monumental Hebrew characters, announce at first sight the original destination of the construction even in the absence of a specific style. When talking about "monuments" of the Middle Ages, the term "monuments" has been used in large sense, including the manuscripts, which are the most important and only direct sources for our knowledge of the cultural life of mediaeval Jewish communities. O u r knowledge of manuscripts has gready improved during the last fifty years. True, their scientific exploration had already started at the end of the nineteenth century and at the beginning of the twentieth, thanks to some great personalities, who started to explore systematically the manuscript collections kept in different Libraries. I am alluding to the scholars of the generation of Steinschneider, and first of all to Steinschneider himself. In spite of the fact that the most eminent scientific authority of our times has, not very long ago, qualified them as "Totengräber," "Einbalsamierern," "Leichenredern" 6 (grave-diggers, embal-mers, funeral orators), in reality, we are deeply indebted to them for the facility we owe them of having easy access today to the manuscripts kept in different libraries. But their interest was concentrated merely on the texts found in the manuscripts. The novelty of research on manuscripts of these last decades is that attention is also devoted to the manuscript as an object, a discipline which was long since practiced in the parallel fields of Latin and Greek manuscripts. Without having the right to include it in a survey of art studies, one cannot talk about manuscripts without mentioning the project of Hebrew Paleography, with its very useful and high quality publications of comparative script samples, accompanied by studies on parchment, ruling and

6

Scholem, G . 1997. Die Wissenschaft vom Judentum. Transi, and ed. P. Schäfer. Judaica 6. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp.

other connected crafts linked to the production of manuscripts, crafts which were, in this case, practiced by Jewish specialists. Another aspect of Hebrew manuscripts which has never been seriously taken into consideration before, was the iconographical and ornamental material joined to the texts. There have been some isolated attempts to describe or interprêt separate data, but they did not aim at producing research instruments such as we like to have at our disposal today. It is only in the last decades that systematic and methodical description of this material has been started. Besides the Index of Hebrew Illuminated Manuscripts, mentioned earlier, cataloguing has been started in the main Libraries having important Hebrew manuscript collections. Some of them have already been published, such as the Catalogue of Hebrew Illuminated manuscripts of Spain in the British Isles by Bezalel Narkiss, with the collaboration of Aliza Cohen, in 1982, and the Catalogue of Hebrew Illuminated Manuscripts in the Libraries of France, by myself, published in 1994. Cataloguing has started in many other libraries by the Center of Jewish Art: in the National Library in Jerusalem, in the Public Library of St. Petersburg of the manuscripts of the Firkovich collection, in the National Library of Vienna, the Rumjantsev Library in Moscow, Libraries in Germany, in Poland and North Italy. These projects are at different stages, some of them are at the first stage of the preparatory survey and documentation; others are already at the stage of computerization, which is planned to be the final stage for each of them. Research on single manuscripts did not cease because of these great projects. O n the contrary, thanks to the wide range of sources to which they provide access, the way was opened to monographs on specific artists, on workshops in a definite geographical area, on specific programs created for various types of manuscripts—mah^or, haggadab—all questions which can be dealt now with a greater probability to have investigated all the documents related to the problern. And these researches lead often to results the interest of which goes far beyond specific questions concerning art history. At times they offer concrete confirmation of facts that the intellectual history of a given period has traced only as a possibility; in other cases they provide evidence of previously unknown social relations. Without going into detail, it may be worth-while to quote a few examples to show what kind of information have provided these studies. Contacts between Christian and Jewish exegetes of the Bible, and more precisely the use of the Commentaries of Rashi by Christian scholars, have been long established, the most famous study on the question being that of Beryl Smalley, published in 1952.7 Closer to us, in 1990, Gilbert Dahan devoted an excellent publication to the question, exploring all available documents where Christian authors refer to Rashi's commentary, without always quoting Rashi's name. 8 However explicit these references may be, they do not always allow us to establish what kind of contacts were at hand between the two parties. A more concrete answer was obtained thanks to a few visual documents: the plans de-

7 8

Smalley, B. 1952. The Study of the Bibte in the Middle Ages. Oxford. Dahan, G. 1990. Les intellectuels Chretiens et Juifs au Moyen Age. Paris: Cerf.

signed by Rashi for his commentary on Ezekiel's description of the Temple (chap. 45, 1-8) which are found in all the copies of Rashi's text. These diagrams were taken over with the utmost precision by Richard of Saint-Victor, exegete of the mid-12 th century (sub-prior at Saint-Victor in Paris from 1159 to 1173), in his commentary on Ezekiel. 9 Thanks to the perfect concordance of the two diagrams, the one of Rashi and that of Richard, no doubt can subsist about the fact that the Christian scholar worked with having a copy of Rashi's commentary on his desk. With the aid of visual documents, the existence of professional contacts can also be established, at places and at periods when, according to official historical reports, Jews and Chrisdans completely antagonized. In this field, the stylistic criteria provide more reliable proofs than do the historical reports. The most beautiful Hebrew illuminated manuscript, the so called British Library Miscellany (Add. ms. 11639 ) whose paintings were executed by four different painters, attests beyond any doubt that several of its 41 illuminations were executed by either Jewish painters who belonged to a well known northern French Chrisdan workshop, or by Chrisdan members of this very workshop who worked for a Jewish patron. 1O In the absence of signatures, this question has to remain open, yet, whatever has been the real situation, both alternatives suppose an intimate collaboration between the artists of the two communities. The case of the British Museum Miscellany was not an isolated one. Another famous Hebrew manuscript originating from North-Eastern France, an illuminated copy of Maimonides' Misbneh Torah once in the collection of David Kaufmann in Budapest, is decorated by marginal illustrations transferred from a model book which was also used for several contemporary Latin manuscripts from the area, executed for the local aristocratic family of the Bar.11 These illustrations again bear witness to close and unimpeded professional relationships, only a few years before the expulsion of the Jews from France. O n e could certainly multiply the examples of cases where the visual documents provide a more faithful image of the relation between Jews and Chrisdans, than do the official reports, and which show the value of this category of arguments for purposes beyond simply establishing the history of works of arts. We will not go further in the enumeradon of individual cases. There is however one more fact to be mentioned in order to show that the work done in this field during the last fifty years has changed the image of art produced by Jews in the general opinion. In 1995 the first comprehensive handbook was published on Jewish art from the beginning up to our days.12 Contrary to what has been done before, it is not a collection of articles, but a systematic chronological analysis of all works of art which have been raised by, and within, the Jewish civilization from the 9

10 11 12

Sed-Rajna, G. 1993/94. "Some Further Data on Rashi's Diagrams to his Commentary on the Bible." Jewish Studies Quarterly 1, 2. Sed-Rajna, G. 1982. "The Paindngs of the London Miscellany." Journal ofJewish Art 9. Sed-Rajna, G. 1979. "The Illustrations of the Kaufmann Mishneh Torah." Journal ofJewish Art 6. Sed-Rajna, G . 1995. LArt Juif. Paris: Citadelles & Mazenod. English edition, N e w York: Abrams, 1997. German edition, Frankfurt: Herder, 1997.

very beginning up to our days. This book can be considered as the sign of two positive phenomena: a) Studies on individual products of Jewish art at different periods have reached the stage of maturity, rendering a comprehensive summary possible. b) O n the other hand, this book provides proof of the general recognition gained by this field: indeed, the idea to publish the book was not the initiative of the author. It was the editor who commissioned the book, in order to integrate it in a series of luxurious art books, each volume of which is devoted to one of the major artistic trends of our civilization. The title of the series is "Les Arts et les Grandes Civilisations." This offer was the official recognition of the new discipline: the history of Jewish Art has gained civil rights in the scholarly world.

SOCIAL IMPLICATIONS OF SPATIAL LOCATIONS OF J E W I S H M U S E U M S IN E U R O P E DAVID CLARK University of North London, UK

T h e main question this paper wishes to address is what difference does it make where a museum is actually located? In particular, we shall be examining the differential advantages of locating a Jewish museum in "historic" space, ethnic space or communal space. In order to analyse the issue of spatial location this paper develops a typology involving the differentiation of space into historic, touristic, ethnic, communal and pragmatic space. In addition, we shall be examining which groups within society have an interest in initiating and promoting the establishment of a Jewish museum, the particular agendas they might have, and the implications this has for the kinds of audiences they wish to attract to the museum.

Historic and Touristic Space Ashworth and Tunbridge in their study of urban tourism found that in an historic city such as Norwich, in England, tourists tended to concentrate their visits within a relatively small, clearly delineated area of town, (Ashworth and Tunbridge 1990). This has certain implications for locations of Jewish museums as well. Indeed, certain high profile Jewish museums in Europe may be fortunate enough to be the located in both historic space and touristic space. T h e Jewish museum in Prague is located on such a site, being at the heart of the old ghetto area in Prague. This area is within walking distance from the Old T o w n Square, right at the heart of historic Prague. As a result, the Jewish museum has become an integral part of "touristic Prague," attracting over a million visitors a year. T h e Jewish Museum in Prague, originally founded in 1906, is a wellestablished tourist site. It combines three distinct and quite unique tourist attractions. T h e Old cemetery, which dates back to the 14th century, with its 12,000 tombstones, already attracted visitors in the 19 ,h century, due to its assodations with historic figures, scholars and famous rabbis. At the end of the 19 th century, much of the Old Jewish G h e t t o was demolished as a result of slum clearance, but six of the main synagogues were preserved from demolition, ineluding the 13 th century Alt-Neu Synagogue. These synagogues are now administered by the museum and some are used as part of the museum in order to display part of the vast collection of Judaica associated with the museum. T h e site of the Old Jewish G h e t t o is just a few minutes walk from the historic site of the Old T o w n Square in Prague, which is an absolute " m u s t " on

any tourist itinerary. The Old Town Square is itself within walking distance of the commercial centre and tourist shopping around the famous Wenceslas Square, with its shops, restaurants, theatres, cinemas and museums. The fact that the Jewish Museum in Prague is within easy walking distance of the main tourist attractions in Prague is a major contributing factor in accounting for the large number of tourists who visit the museum site. Another museum that benefits from a similar combination of historic and touristic spatial location is the Museo Sefardi in Toledo. The museum, which was established in 1964, is now housed in the Trânsito Synagogue. The museum is located in the former Jewish quarter, which is of historical interest, and there are also archaeological excavations on site. Yet it is also located in a very popular tourist area, with many historic buildings of interest. The town is also within easy reach of Madrid, and so benefits from large numbers of day visitors as well. Hence, it is not surprising that that the museum receives well over 200,000 visitors a year.

On the Margins of the Touristic City By contrast, the Jewish museums in London are located in neither historic nor touristic space. The first Jewish museum in London, established in 1932, was located in central London, which was not an area associated with Jewish settlement. The museum attracted around 10,000 visitors annually, of w h o m half were tourists. Yet that the museum was not located in historic space, as it did not represent an area of historic settlement of the Jewish population. Indeed, the museum was located in an area of central London that was very much on the margins of touristic space. It was located some ten minutes walk north from the British Museum and from the shopping area of Oxford Circus and Tottenham Court Road; it was thus located within easy reach of tourist haunts, but slightly off the beaten track. A survey that I conducted in the summer of 1993 of 143 visitors to the Jewish Museum showed that 49% had first heard about the museum through reading a guidebook of London. A further 10% had first spotted the museum on one of the large tourist maps displayed outside the underground or railway station in central London. Indeed, nearly two-thirds of visitors were tourists, of whom half came from the United States and the rest mainly from Europe. Clearly, the museum was site-sacralized, in Dean MacCannell's terms, (see MacCannell 1976), "signposted" as it was in guides and on maps. Yet, the fact that the museum was located on the periphery of the tourist area probably accounts for the fact that relatively few tourists actually visited the place.

Ethnic Space The second Jewish museum in London was established in 1983, in Finchley, a north-western suburb within easy access of a large Jewish catchment area. This can be termed "ethnic" space and the museum attracts even fewer tourists.

The initial purpose of the museum was to document the history of Jewish setdement in the East E n d of London. The movement of Jews out of the East End began in the inter-war period, with the expansion of public transport in the London region. Many of the remaining Jews were evacuated from the East End, alongside other residents, during the Second World War, as the area was badly damaged by German bombing. Those who returned to the area after the war, however, eventually followed a general pattern of migration to the suburbs, either to the north and north-west or to the north-east. As a result, few Jews were left in the East End, and by the 1970s many of the old synagogues were forced to close down as their congregations dwindled. It is at this stage that academic and general interest began to develop in the history of the Jewish East End. O u t of this interest grew the idea of setting up a museum of the Jewish East End. Yet, the idea of placing the museum in the East End was rejected on the grounds that few Jews remained there; moreover, the East End fell outside the area normally visited by tourists. The museum was allocated a room, and later more spacious accommodadon, in the Sternberg Centre for Judaism, owned by the Manor House Trust. This trust is managed by a consortium of interests which includes the Reform Synagogues of Great Britain, the Leo Baeck College (the Progressive movement's rabbinical college), a Masorti Synagogue (Conservative) and a Progrèssive primary school. These premises are to be found in the north western suburb of Finchley, in the London Borough of Barnet, which has a substantial Jewish population, (about 16% of the borough's population is Jewish). The museum is therefore located in an area that is easily accessible to large numbers of Jews living in the north-western suburban belt. I have termed the space occupied by the museum as Jewish ethnic space, as it is well within the enclave of Jewish suburban residents. The museum has since expanded gready, moving to more spacious accommodation on the same site, and changing its orientation, focusing on the history and roots of Jewish people in the whole of the London area. In 1988 it was renamed the London Museum of Jewish Life. Since 1995, the two Jewish museums have joined forces, merging together, under a single management and directorship, but remaining on two distinctive and separate sites.

Pragmatic Space The Jewish Museum in London, formerly located in Woburn House, in central London, relocated to new premises in Camden Town in 1995. Camden Town is further away from touristic London, but is much closer to the Jewish catchment area of north-west London. Yet Camden Town itself is not part of any Jewish enclave (though it does have a long-established Jewish day school). The site in Camden Town is therefore located in neither historic, nor touristic nor Jewish ethnic space. The museum moved there for pragmatic reasons; the museum needed more space and needed to display its exhibits in a more professional manner; it made

sense to move out of Woburn House, in Tavistock Square. A wealthy benefactor offered the museum a building in Camden Town, plans were drawn up for redesigning and refurbishing the building, and so it came to be; the decision to move to Camden Town was made purely on pragmatic grounds. Hence I am terming this space pragmatic space. Such space is pragmatic in other ways. Camden Town is half way between central London and the north-western suburban belt already mentioned, which has a large Jewish catchment area. Equally, Camden Town is well placed in terms of accessibility to Jews living in London's northern suburbs as well as to Jews living in the north-eastern suburbs.

Communal Space It might be useful at this point to review some theoretical debates concerning spatialisation in order set the notion of communal space in a wider theoretical context. Soja writes: "For Giddens, locales refer to "the use of space to provide the settings of interaction, the settings of interaction in turn being essential to specifying its contextuality" (Soja 1989: 148). These settings may be a room in a house, a street corner, the shop floor of a factory, a prison, a hospital, a definable neighbourhood or other demarcated area. I envisage community space as just one such locale, nested amidst a series of other kinds of locales and spaces. Communal space could just be a room within a building, but more generally it is likely to be a building, a set of streets or a public space. What is characteristic of communal space is that it enables certain kinds of social interactions to take place. Communal space provides the setting for certain kinds of interactions to occur and at the same time provides a viable and legitimate context for such interaction. In Giddens' terms, communal space provides contextuality, which is the situated character of interaction, involving the setting of interaction, the presence of actors and communication between them (Giddens 1984). Communal space is the locale in which such interaction can take place. Indeed, communal spaces have often been specifically and deliberately ereated in order to establish a setting in which Jewish people can meet, interact socially, and engage in communal or cultural pursuits. This was precisely the aim of Jewish communal leaders in the early 1930s when they established Woburn House as the showpiece for Anglo-Jewry's communal establishment. N o t only was it to house the headquarters of the Board of Deputies of British Jews, representing the lay leadership of the community, but also that of the United Synagogue, the main Orthodox body in the country. In addition it was meant to be a cultural centre and centre of learning for the community. With hindsight one might suggest that the deliberate attempt to create communal space, in the heart of London, in the 1930s, was the last ditch attempt by the old style Anglo-Jewish leadership to maintain control over communal affairs and impose its stamp on developments. The leadership attempted

to centralise the offices of the main communal institutions and to locate them in one place, at Woburn House. This venture met with some degree of success, as these communal institutions remained based in the same building right until 1995. Ultimately, however, the scheme collapsed and in the mid-1990s the various institutions formerly housed at Woburn House went their separate ways and relocated elsewhere. This was pardy due to the fact Anglo-Jewry had changed so dramatically after the war period. The cosy relationship that had existed until the war period, in which leadership positions in the United Synagogue and the Board of Deputies remained firmly in the hands of a few leading families, was to disappear, perhaps forever. Leadership positions became more contested and the locus of power within Anglo-Jewry became much more fragmented. Nevertheless, the creation of Woburn House as communal space in the 1930s required vision on the part of the communal leadership at the time as well as financial investment. Ultimately, this kind of "communal space" is socially created. T o paraphrase Soja (1989), such space represents simultaneously the outcome of social reladons (pre-existing leadership structures) and at the same time facilitates the development of new social relations and interactions, by creating the locale for such interactions.

Copenhagen's Communal Space Jewish setdement in Copenhagen dates back to the middle of the 17th century, though Jews were not given equal rights until 1814. A new synagogue was built in 1833, in the centre of town, to replace the old one destroyed by fire in 1795. Within walking distance is also a Jewish community centre; this is an 18(h century building renovated in the 1960s and opened as a Jewish cultural and youth centre in 1968. Under the same roof the following organisations can also be found: the administrative offices of the Copenhagen Jewish community, W I Z O Denmak, the Danish Zionist Federation, Keren Hayesod, Jewish National Fund and B'nai Brith. The premises also house a mikvah, a day-care centre and a kosher canteen, (Goldschmidt-Salamon 1994). Clearly, the synagogue and the communal centre provide a very important focal point for Copenhagen's Jewish population. However, as in London, the Jewish population has largely moved to the suburbs, especially in the post-war period, and is widely scattered across the Copenhagen area. While the main old people's home remains in the centre of town, near the main synagogue, the schools and nurseries have moved out of the central area, to be nearer to the target population. The main Jewish day school, Carolineskolen, is located halfway between the city centre and the northern /western suburbs, where most of the Jewish population has setded, and so occupies pragmatic space. The school also has a kindergarten and day nursery attached to it. The offices of the Chief Rabbi have also been relocated to the same premises, thereby contributing to the potential for creating communal space.

There have been concerted efforts to establish a Jewish museum in Copenhagen over the last 12 to 15 years, with a well-established trust society and with already existing collections of Judaica and manuscripts likely to form the basis for such a museum. Yet there is still some hesitancy as to where best to locate the museum. At long last, central government has approved the eventual handing over of the Royal Library building for establishing a Jewish museum, once the building is vacated in 1999. The building is located in central Copenhagen, at the heart of the tourist area and would be a very prestigious building for the museum to occupy. However, it would be quite some distance away from the main areas of current Jewish setdement. Hence, the Chief Rabbi, who is a member of the committee currently involved in setting up the museum, would prefer to see the museum established on the site of the main day school. Such a move would help to transform the school into a real community centre for the Jewish community, thereby strengthening even further the communal aspect of the pragmatic space that has been created on the site, (Interview with Chief Rabbi, Bent Lexner, October 1997) However, it is clear that the creation of "space" is socially contested. "Concrete spatiality is thus a competitive arena for struggles over social production and reproduction," (Soja 1989: 130). Thus, other members of the steering committee responsible for setting up the Jewish museum in Copenhagen are in favour of more central location for the museum, in more prestigious buildings, located in the heart of "touristic" Copenhagen. Indeed such members strongly advocate the option of locating the museum in the 18th century building currendy housing the Royal Library. The advantage of such location is that it would be a prestigious site. This would be much more likely to impress and attract a wealthy, well educated, Danish audience already frequenting museums and art galleries, as well as attracting a tourist audience. The disadvantage is that it would be less likely to develop into Jewish communal space, since such communal space is already located elsewhere. It would occupy touristic space, but neither ethnic nor communal space. The issue is that in establishing a Jewish museum in Copenhagen the resident Jewish community is being asked to invest in the venture. Should such investment be directed to creating touristic space, thereby enhancing and reinforcing capital formation and accumulation already well established in the historic-touristic area of Copenhagen? O r should such investment be directed to creating communal space centred around the Carolineskolen day school, thereby reinforcing the long-term viability of locating a day school half-way between the historic centre of Jewish setdement in Copenhagen and its current suburban settlements? This paper does not seek to provide an answer to such a dilemma. Rather the paper has sought to explore some of the complexities involved in the issue of social spatialisation and hopefully has been able to illustrate the manner in which "space" does make a difference.

Investing in "Cultural Services " and the Process of Gentrification Sharon Zukin has written about the way in which cultural services can be seen as a link in the process of capital accumulation. Zukin's describes how the process of gentrification, accompanied by a programme of building renovation, might occur simultaneously with the introduction of cultural services and amenities into an area. This helps to create a specific locational focus, a "locale" in Giddens' terms, for certain kinds of life-styles and patterns of interaction. Such patterns of consumption help to attract and sustain the incoming "gentrifying" population, which in turn contributes to the spiralling value of property and rents in the area, (Zukin 1990). I would argue that the placing of a museum into a given area could be seen as stimulating precisely this kind of process. This is most clearly evident in the touristic areas of most European cities. Zukin writes in general about the spatial embeddedness of certain kinds of consumption patterns. City centres have become gentrified through a twofold process. First, by turning city centres into shopping areas for the better-off section of the population, with disposable incomes, who come to the city centre for shopping, entertainment and eating out, thereby turning the city centre into a place of consumption. Second, the process involves the architectural gentrification of the area in an attempt to restore architectural authenticity to the buildings and so maintain a narrative link to the historic nature of the city centre (Zukin 1990: 41). Thus, the historic-touristic aspects of the city merge and blend into spaces of consumption, and it is within such a context that we need to view the deliberate placing of Jewish museums into pre-existing "touristic" space. The placing of a Jewish museum in such an area helps to reinforce the coherence of such spaces and reinforces a certain "ambience" of historic space. Hence the impetus to place Jewish museums in Jewish-historic and touristic space in Toledo and in Gerona, or in touristic space in Vienna. It is worth noting that the placing of such museum in historic-touristic space often also has the support and backing of either central or local government. Indeed, without public funding it is unlikely that such museums would have been established on those particular sites in Toledo, Gerona, or Vienna. The placing of Jewish museums in prestigious, historic buildings, as in the case for the new Museum of Jewish Art and History in Paris, or the Jewish Museum in Frankfurt, also falls within the same category of publicly sponsored reinforcement of the social coherence of such spaces. Central and local government, however, are far less concerned with the development of Jewish communal space. Hence the move of the Jewish Museum to Camden Town and the establishment of the London Museum of Jewish Life in Finchley was undertaken with minimal public funding. Hence, also, any plans to establish a Jewish museum in Copenhagen on the site of the Carolineskolen school is likely to receive litde financial support from public funds.

Conclusion This paper has sought to explore the difference it makes where Jewish museums are located within the spadal context of the city. Taking Soja's proposidon that spadality is a substantiated social product, I have sought to illustrate the manner in which spatial location represents both an outcome of previous social relations and at the same time affords new opportunities by establishing a locale for further interactions. I developed a new typology of space in relation to Jewish museums. I outlined and illustrated the characteristics of historic space, touristic space, ethnic space, pragmatic space and communal space. Museums located in historic-touristic space, such as the Jewish museums in Prague and in Toledo, benefit from a number of advantages. They may be able to capitalise on the attraction of offering authenticity of "real places, real objects and real people," (Moore 1997); they may be "site-sacralised" (MacCannell 1976) and so part of the tourist trail within the historic-touristic city (Ashworth and Tunbridge, 1990). In addition, I would argue that museums placed within the context of historic and touristic space actually reinforce already existing patterns of behaviour and consumption within that space and help to further lend ambience and cohesion to the character of such space, (see Zukin 1990). It is therefore not surprising to find that central and local governments are amongst the keenest supporters of museum location in such historic-touristic space and are prepared to invest in Jewish museums in Toledo, Gerona, Vienna, Paris and possibly downtown Copenhagen. Such museums may not always be located in Jewish historic space, but they have the merit of at least being located in touristic space. There is a genuine problem in seeking to locate Jewish museums within the historic setting of Jewish setdement, often in or near city centres. This is that in most European cities Jews no longer reside in such places, but have either moved out into the suburbs, or else have left altogether, either through emigradon or as a result of the Shoah. In Venice there is a small Jewish population left in the ghetto area and it makes sense to maintain the architectural heritage of historic synagogues in the area, and hence that is also where the Jewish museum is located. Elsewhere, however, there is a clear tension between locating a Jewish museum in historic space and locating the museum nearer to where the current Jewish population actually lives. Locating a Jewish museum in ethnic space often involves locating the museum in suburban areas where Jews currendy reside. The London Museum of Jewish Life is one example of such a museum, but few Jewish museums in Europe have taken this route. The advantage of locating a museum in ethnic space is the potential this has for developing "communal space". N o t only does such a museum have the benefit of a wide catchment area of potential Jewish visitors on its doorstep, but the possibilities exist for developing communal space, a locale for social interaction amongst members of the Jewish community.

Finally, to answer the initial question, what difference does space make, I would suggest that the spatial location of a Jewish museum would also affect the kind of audience attracted to the museum. Museums located in historic or touristic space are much more likely to attract a preponderance of tourists, whilst museums located in pragmatic or ethnic space are much more likely to attract a higher proportion of Jewish visitors. Public sponsors are more interested in attracting tourists, whilst sponsors from within the Jewish community might wish to invest in communal space if they wish to attract a largely Jewish audience.

References Ashworth, G . and Tunbridge, J. 1990. The Touristic-Historic City. L o n d o n : Belhaven Press. Giddens, A. 1984. The Constitution of Society. Cambridge: Polity Press Goldschmidt-Salamon, K. L. ed. 1994. A guide to Jewish Denmark. Copenhagen: C. A. Reitzel. MacCannell, D . 1976. The Tourist: a new theoty of the leisure class. N e w York: Shocken Books. Moore, K. 1997. Museums and Popular Culture. L o n d o n : Cassell. Soja, Ε. 1989. PostModern Geographies. L o n d o n : Verso. Zukin, S. 1990. "Socio-spatial prototypes of a new organization of consumption: the role of real cultural capital." Sociology 24,1, 37-56.

A N E W A P P R O A C H TO T H E STUDY OF JEWISH RITUAL TEXTILES JULIE-MARTHE COHEN Jewish Historical Museum, Amsterdam, the Netherlands

During the last two years I have been involved in research into the textile collection of the Jewish Historical Museum, which has led to development of a new approach to the study of Jewish ritual textiles. Before describing this new approach to the object as a social p h e n o m e n o n I shall start with a brief évaluadon of the current state of research into Jewish textiles in the Netherlands, continuing with a number of brief examples to illustrate the established research methods. Research into Dutch Jewish textiles is still in its infancy. T o a large extent, the lack of any systematic research into Dutch Jewish textiles is due to the decimation of the Jewish population of the Netherlands during the Second World W a r — o f the 140,000 Jews more than 100,000 did not return, that is 85 per cent—and to the destruction by the German occupiers of much of the Dutch Jewish material culture. In general, moreover, the study of Jewish material culture is still a young science. T h e first exhibition to feature Dutch Jewish material culture as a separate theme was the Historical Exhibition of Amsterdam in 1876.1 Images ofAmsterdam's Disappearing Ghetto in 1916 was the first show to present exclusively Dutch Jewish objects, subdivided into themes such as city views, professions, religious customs, etc. 2 In both cases, as later in the thematic exhibitions first organised by the Society for Jewish Science in the Netherlands in 1926, and after 1932 by the Jewish Historical Museum, 3 the focus was more on Jewish objects as such, rather than on any scholarly study: the objects mentioned in the rudimentary catalogues were accompanied by brief descriptions, with no more than the object name, date and function. So in the brochure for the exhibition on Amsterdam Jewish doctors and circumcisers a typical descripdon is: "Circumcision register of mohel Magnus J o c h e m Mozes, with colour miniatures (1718)." Finally, the scars left by the war ensured that the Jewish Historical Museum's first priority after it reopened in 1955, of rebuilding the collection, proved a long and difficult task. It is only in the last ten years that the structural, scholarly examination of objects has begun to receive the attention it requires—now that the museum has the infrastructure to examine objects more closely. Historische Tentoonstelling van Amsterdam. Amsterdam, 1876. Catalogus van de tentoonstelling He/ Verdünnend Amsterdamsch Ghetto in beeld. Amsterdam, 1916. See for example, Tentoonstelling op het gebied van Amsterdamsch-joodsche artstn en benijders. Amsterdam November 1926-March 1927; Tentoonstelling van voorwerpen voor het joodsche feestjaar (March-August 1927), Gids voor het Joods Historisch Museum. Amsterdam, 1931 and the Catalogus Historische TentoonStelling 'De Hoogduitsche Joodsche Gemeente te Amsterdam 1635-1935'. Amsterdam, 1935.

In recent decades there have been only a few studies of Dutch Jewish textiles. These have focused primarily on the re-use of materials originally employed in secular objects for ritual purposes. In his article on "A Valance from the Portuguese Synagogue in the Jewish Historical Museum," published in 1981, Edward van Voolen described a teba cover and an accompanying valance made of eighteenth-century English fabric from a bedspread, which is part of the Jewish Historical Museum collection. 4 According to Van Voolen, the discovery during conservation work of an unusual annotation on the back of the valance, provided a unique opportunity to set a date for the manufacture of the ritual object. The annotation reeds "Isaac Mendels, aged 23, born on 1 January 1835, noted on 14 May 1858," Isaac Mendels probably being the designer. In 1985 Ebeltje Hartkamp-Jonxis, textile curator at the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, published an article on a parokhet in Amersfoort synagogue, in which she attempted to trace the richly embroidered material of the curtain to a specific eighteenthcentury gown which had once belonged to Wilhelmina of Prussia, while describing the historical circumstances that led to the material ending up in the synagogue. 5 The first Dutch study exclusively devoted to Dutch Jewish textiles appeared in 1996. This volume on the parochot of the community in Leiden, 6 described five recendy conserved curtains, of which four originally came from other communities, namely Hoorn, Heenvliet, O m m e n and Middelharnis. While placing these textiles in their historical context and focusing on the place of origin and the donors, particular attention was devoted to the technical descripdon and conservation aspects. The first large-scale research into both secular and religious Dutch Jewish textiles began in the early 1990s following the allocation of a grant by the Dutch government for the conservation of museum collections. The Jewish Historical Museum decided to use this funding to conserve the textile collection, since many of the items were in poor, if not very poor state. Between 1994 and 1997, around one hundred objects—a quarter of the entire textile collection—was saved from irreparable decay. This conservation project led to further research into the textile collection. The results of the conservation and research programme were presented in 1997 in a major exhibition entided Orphan Objects, Facets of the Textiles Collection of the Joods Historisch Museum which was accompanied by a full-colour catalogue, the first inventory as such of a Jewish museum's textile collection. 7 Around 130 of the 400 objects were described in detail. This research into Dutch Jewish textiles is an ongoing project at the Jewish Historical Museum. At present exploratory preparations are afoot for a research

4

5

6

7

Jewish Historical M u s e u m , inv. no. B69. Voolen, E. van, 1981. " A Valance f r o m the Portuguese Synagogue in the Jewish Historical M u s e u m . " Journalof Jetvish Art 8, 80-82. Hartkamp-Jonxis, E . 1985. " D e v o o r h a n g van de Synagoge in A m e r s f o o r t : of een japon van Wilhelmina van Pruisen." Leids Kunsthistorisch Jaarboek 401-414. Hiegentlich, F. and H o o f d , H. van het eds. 1996. Leids! parochot: voor deglorie van de Synagoge. Leiden. Swetschinski, D. M. in coll. with C o h e n , J. M. and Hartog, S. 1997. Orphan Objects. Facets of the Textiles Collection of the Joods Historisch Museum, Amsterdam. Zwolle: Waanders.

project into Jewish material culture in the Netherlands, which may be organised by the Menasseh ben Israel Institute for Jewish Social and Cultural Studies. The inventory, description and research into Dutch Jewish textiles will form an essential aspect of this project.

Established research methods Research into Jewish ceremonial textiles in the Netherlands and abroad is mainly descriptive, as is the way the research has been presented in various catalogues. Conventional research focuses on the manufacture of the object with respect to the date, place and maker, the materials used and the techniques employed; the results are then compiled in a traditional description-form. Arthistorical research generally focuses on style and iconography—symbolism and traditional imagery. So, for example, on several of the eighteenth-century parochot in the museum collection, like one of 1777/78 from Zeeland, the lion rampant, symbol of the tribe o f j u d a h and a regular theme in traditional Jewish imagery, is shown in relatively simple style. O n a parokhet from Harlingen, made in 1898 to mark the investiture of Queen Wilhelmina, the details of the lion are much more finely depicted. Given the context and the composition, the depicdon appears to be an attempt to portray the lion of the Dutch royal standard. Relations between Jews and the House of Orange have always been good and the investiture in 1898 was celebrated with a flurry of new synagogue textiles. The cultural-historical approach involves, for example, the identification and explanation of cultural similarities and distinctions in ritual customs between various groups of Jews from different cultural backgrounds, whether they live in the same or a different culture. O r it focuses on the influences of the customs of the dominant surrounding population. For example, the Jewish Historical Museum collection contains several pin cushions, which accompanied the circumcision ceremony. The use of pin cushions is a tradition exclusive to the Jews of Holland, with its roots in the seventeenth-century Dutch custom whereby, in the seventh month of pregnancy, expectant mothers would prepare a basket with items such as a christening dress, nappies and pin cushions. Pin cushions were often decorated with motto's, such as "Welcome to Life," while the back could feature a Hebrew verse from the circumcision ceremony, recited as the child is carried into the room: "This is the chair of Elijah, Welcome," then abbreviated, "Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the universe, who sanctifies us with your commandments and commanded us—to introduce my son into the covenant of Abraham our father." The descriptive details can also be explained on social-historical lines. For example, in relation to the status of the donor—the donor's name and function—and to the details of the circumstances of the gift: something personal, like a wedding or a death; or perhaps a collective event, such as the inauguration of a synagogue. This information is often contained in the Hebrew inscription. In addition, the quality of the materials and embroidery can provide information about the economic circumstances of the donor.

The object as a social phenomenon Research into the textile collection of the Jewish Historical Museum has focused on the physical and iconographie description of the object as the basis for an exploratory investigation aimed, to use the museum's terminology, at the story behind the object. The object is viewed as a social phenomenon, in other words, as the result of human endeavor, with its kaleidoscopic background of opinions, motivations, ideas, values and norms. T o reconstruct the story, an examination of the sources, such as personal narratives, as well as reports in archives, documents and items in the Jewish and non-Jewish press can shed significant light on the importance and value attached to the object in a specific context. The collected data can then be interpreted in a broader, historical or social-historical perspective. The following three examples show how the so-called narrative approach adds an extra dimension to the description and helps towards an understanding of the object in its social context. The first is a personal secular object, a nonreligious object in a secular context, the second object is what I refer to as a collective liturgical object in a religious context and, finally, the effectiveness of the narrative approach discussed with reference to liturgical textiles set in the historical context of the eighteenth and nineteenth century. The Jewish Historical Museum collection contains a belt made in 1943 in Westerbork transit camp by a twelve-year-old girl, Leondne de Jong, who was later to donate this object to the Jewish Historical Museum, in 1992. The belt is a yellow woollen strip, appliqued with a camp barrack, a mess tin, a stove, clogs and a cap, a bunk bed, an escutcheon marked " O D , " a Star of David, an elephant and a gate with barbed-wire, all in different colours and different materials. The donor was approached for an interview in which she provided the following information: the figures she sewed on the belt show more than just the context; each figure describes a personal experience in the camp which left the most indelible mark. For example, barrack number 85 was were she lived; the elephant symbolises the toy workshop where her best friend worked; the stove is a reminder of those times when, according to a strict schedule, they were able to bake a potato. The belt was an integral part of the camp uniform—blue overalls—which girls over fourteen wore. In the unreal reality of that time, the belt expresses the longing of the young Leontine to get through those two years to her fourteenth birthday. The collection of the Portuguese Jewish community of Amsterdam contains a teba cover with an accompanying lectern cover made in 1883 to mark the visit of King William III to the Portuguese synagogue and still used on royal visits and on the Shabbat on or after the reigning monarch's official birthday (held today on 30 April). 8 The textiles are made of Italian lace, probably dating from the sixteenth century, attached to a ground of nineteenth-century orange satin (referring to the House of Orange). For more information about the back-

For the article on this subject see Cohen, J.-M. 1996. " D e geschiedenis van een tebaen lessenaarskleed." Habinjan (De Opbouw) 47, 3, 14-20.

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ground and the origins of these objects the minutes of the community were studied. These revealed an intriguing debate that shed some interesting light on the internal and interpersonal relations, as well as the views, values and mentality on which these were based. The arguments relating to this issue may be summarised as follows: The pieces of lace were found by a member of the board in a cupboard at the office. The parnassim, who discussed what to do with the lace in a meeting, proposed to sell the cloth, which was in poor condition, at a public auction, since this would probably raise more than the 150 guilders at which the material had recently been valued. However, permission for the sale was needed from the synagogue council. They took a less nonchalant attitude and opposed the sale on both halakhic and cultural-historical grounds. The origin of the lace, they reasoned, was unknown. If it had ever been used for a service it would be wrong to allow the material to be used for secular purposes. Moreover, they saw the pieces as cosdy works of art, and the sums offered were meaningless compared to their value as antiquities. Finally, it is worth noting that, while the minutes of their meetings were generally published, one of the members suggested that this particular matter should not be made public. This was presumably to keep the profit-minded and disrespectful attitudes of the parnassim from public view, in order to keep the peace within the community. In my opinion, it is interesting to see the extent to which this case reflects a more or less general attitude to religious matters on the part of the parnassim and maybe of the Portuguese-Jewish community as a whole. O r indeed does this signal a general tendency that was beginning to emerge in the nineteenth century? These kinds of questions can only be answered by studying the object and its wider historical setting, as can be seen from the following example. In a recent article9 I outlined the change of mentality occurred with respect to the significance of liturgical textiles during these two centuries. The examinadon of the social and psychological aspects of donation have revealed that while those who made donations to the synagogue did so from religious duty, in fact their gifts were neither spontaneous nor disinterested: the stipulations that were drawn up in the eighteenth century show that certain privileges were attached to the donation of a liturgical object, privileges that gave the donor status and influence within the community. From this perspective, a valuable gift represented a medium through which wealth and status were expressed in a religious context. So for example, when Zimmele, daughter of Benedictus Nijmegen, in 1776 presented a parokhet together with two cover sets in memory of her late husband Juda, son of Isaac Ornstein, it was used at the presenter's request on Shabbat Nabamu in the Ashkenazi Great Synagogue and on Simhat Torab and Shabbat Bensbit in the New Synagogue. After the reorganisation of the Jewish community in the nineteenth century, this system of donation remained in force, although amendments to the regulation gave a broader group the opportunity to present ritual objects, making donation less of an elitist affair than it had been.

Cohen, J.-M. 1998. "Donation as a Social Phenomenon: Synagogue Textiles of the Ashkenazi Community of Amsterdam in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries." Studia Roscnthaliana 32, 24-42.

At the same time, the increasing lack of involvement in the community by its members, following the social and political changes of the nineteenth century, led to the decreasing significance attached, among many, to liturgical gifts as status symbols. So the Commissie van Surveillance, responsible for the inspecdon, maintenance and augmentation of the religious textiles, complained that the mentality of the community members had changed dramatically, since it had noticed a decreasing amount of gifts and an increasing lack of assistance and involvement in repairs to valuable textiles donated by former generations. In addition, other nineteenth-century examples show that in the perception of the experience of giving, the religious value of the object was undermined, as sacred objects became objects with a secular, material value.

Concluding remarks Although the study of objects as social phenomena is in itself not new, this approach has never been applied to the investigation of Jewish textiles. The exampies cited here show that a narrative approach, using oral and written sources, can deepen our knowledge of the cultural and social context of an object. Meanwhile, the success of this narrative approach depends on the availability of secondary sources—whether this is in the form of oral tradition, archives, letters, press or some other source. O n the other hand the examples also show that secondary sources can provide significant information about objects, or the relation between the object and those that used them, even where these objects have not survived. For Dutch Jewish material culture this offers a major advantage since most of the ritual textiles of the past centuries have been lost due to wear and tear or deliberate destruction. My study of the Jewish Historical Museum textile collection has naturally focused on Dutch Jewish textiles. Given the kind of source materials available in the Netherlands, this method could also be applied to other categories of Dutch Jewish objects, such as silver. At present I can say little about the value of the source material in relation to Jewish objects outside the Netherlands. Finally, when developing a new, or at least innovative research method, it is essential to employ clearly defined concepts. Since we are still at the initial stages of this research this has yet to be finalised. I realise that, for example, the unwieldy "story behind the object" and "narrative approach" may sound rather populist and unscholarly. Moreover, in the study of Jewish objects the lines that separate disciplines such as art history, social history and cultural history tend to become blurred. Further research into other categories of Jewish objects, such as silver ware, and ideally also artefacts from places other than the Netherlands, will provide greater insight into the scientific value of the social-historical approach to Jewish objects presented here. Hopefully, this will contribute to the development of a methodology in which the multi-faceted character of Jewish textile—and of Jewish objects in general—will be fully appreciated.

ARGENTERIE HÉBRAÏQUE À M O D E N A (XVIIIE-XIXE

SIÈCLE)

FEDERICA FRANCESCONI Centro Regionale per il Catalogo, Bologna, Italy

Pendant les dernières décennies du XIXe et les premières années du XXe siècle, le patrimoine des petites synagogues de Modena et des autres petites villes des alentours, telles que Carpi et Finale Emilia, fut rassemblé dans le nouveau Tempie juif. Les recherches que j'ai menées m ' o n t permis de repérer et d'étudier quelques-unes des "scole" de Modena les plus importantes, l'ashkénaze, la séfarde, la petite "Scola," les "scole" italiennes Usiglio et Formiggini, la "scola" de la Compagnie Talmud Torà, la Levi Orsi. 1 Beaucoup de ces immeubles, de petits univers fondés presque silencieusement pour ne pas susciter les remontrances des autorités catholiques, avaient la jeshivah et la tribune et toutes possédaient objets du culte, argents et tissus. Il a été particulièrement intéressant de suivre les événements de la "scola" de la famille Formiggini. La famille Formiggini incarne une micro-histoire exemplaire de l'époque moderne, n o n seulement p o u r ce qui a trait à l'histoire des juifs en Italie, mais aussi pour ce qui concerne la brève présence napoléonienne et la restauration successive. 2 Les Formiggini furent parmi les protagonistes de ces changements dans le Duché d'Esté: marchands et bijoutiers très habiles, hommes politiques et protecteurs de la communauté juive qui, tout en jouissant d'une plus grande liberté par rapport à d'autres pays, était quand-même reléguée dans un espace exigu. L'oratoire de famille unit les générations des Formiggini dès 1675, quand il fut fondé par Elia. D o n n a n t sur la petite place du ghetto, aux numéros actuels 20 et 22 de Via Coltellini, il était parfaitement camouflé parmi les autres immeubles, comme les synagogues de Venezia de Longhena ou celles de Roma et se trouvait au quatrième et dernier étage de deux appartements communicants: dans toute l'Italie les lieux de prière des juifs se trouvent d'habitude au dernier étage d'un bâtiment destiné à l'habitation. 3 Grâce à quelques documents, tels que le plan et les descriptions des objets du culte, il a été possible de reconstruire la structure de l'oratoire. La pièce No. 2 était le lieu de prière avec un chœur en bois tout autour, la pièce N o . 4 était la tribune ornée d'une riche balustrade en fer et la pièce N o . 5 était la chambre de l'huile, appelée aussi "camera dei fogli." A l'entrée il y avait une fausse porte avec des décorations en cristal, tandis que deux portes étaient entourées d'"encadrements," il s'agissait peut-être 1

2

3

Francesconi, F. 1996-1997. Modena ebraica: argentieri e argent! sinagogati nei secoli ΧΙΊΙΙ e XIX. Tesi di laurea, Università di Bologna, Facoltà di Lettere e Filosofia. Sur l'histoire de la famille Formiggini, cf. ibid., cap. III. Francesconi, F. 1998. "Politica e cultura di una famiglia ebraica a Modena: i Formiggini." Il Canobbio 24. Bologna. Sur les sinagogues en Italie on peut voir, Cassuto, D. 1996. "La sinagoga in Italia," dans Storia d'ltalia, Annali XI, G li Ebni in Italia. Torino, 319-338.

de petits frontaux, les fenêtres étaient décorées de rideaux et il y avait de nombreuses torchères et lampes. Il s'agissait vraisemblablement d'une synagogue à "plan bifocal," dont Γaron-ha-Kodesh, appelé aussi tabernacle, était en bois tendre verni et doublé de damas rouge, orienté vers l'est, en direction de Jérusalem, tandis que la bimà, était en bois de sapin coloré. Toutes les synagogues de l'Italie du Nord construites à l'époque baroque étaient à "plan bifocal": le public s'asseyait sur les deux côtés de l'axe bimà-aron sur des "bancs à coffre." La tribune qui, comme d'habitude, se trouvait dans la partie haute de la synagogue et en était séparée par une balustrade en fer, était réservée aux femmes. Audessous des pièces destinées à la prière il y avait la iesivà, la grande salle où de nombreux jeunes juifs indigents accomplirent leurs études. Comme le montre le plan, les pièces de l'oratoire Formiggini étaient exiguës, carrées et simples: les lieux de culte hébraïques n'exigent pas une atmosphère céleste qui entoure l'homme, n'ont pas besoin de dessins, de fresques et de couleurs qui feraient se distraire les fidèles qui doivent se concentrer sur la lecture des textes sacrés. E n revanche, les natures mortes et les décorations épigraphiques sont permises. La synagogue Formiggini était enrichie d'inscriptions dédicatoires et funéraires et d'objets du culte qui, au cours des siècles, ne restèrent pas limités aux seuls "utensigli di legnami e lumi di ottone" du XVII e siècle, mais s'enrichirent de tissus et d'objets en argent. Ceux-ci sont décrits dans un acte de vente stipulé en 1752: un cheder argentato, un'attarà argentata, un paio di rimonim à fïlograna pure argentato, un bacilo e brocca, un'attarà e rimmonim piccioli, due chiavi argentari per YAron a chodesc, guccione, che si serve per leggere la Bibbia, cinque lumiere d'ottone, 55 lumi d'ottone, un paramento di paroched e pessetto guarnito d'oro, un paramento di broccato f o n d o turchino e argentato, meil, mapà, una lampada detta cannucà di ottone compreso pure tutte le banchette, YAron a chodesc, il Scabello del predicatore, il Ducan etc.

L'étude des documents a montré que le patrimoine de cette "scola," qui resta essentiellement intact, fut déposé auprès du nouveau Temple israélite et a survéeu aux deux guerres mondiales. Quelques-uns des objets sont actuellement conservés à Elihau en Israël, sur la demande expresse de la famille. Le cas de la famille Formiggini n'est pas isolé; les Usiglio, les Nacmani, les Fano réussirent à conserver leurs lieux de culte et à préserver un patrimoine d'objets dont la richesse, aujourd'hui, ne manque pas de nous émerveiller. 4 Le nouveau Temple ne reçut pas seulement les objets, mais aussi les documents qui étaient conservés auprès des petits oratoires. Il est parfois possible d'associer un certain objet à un document donné, tandis que pour d'autres il est difficile d'identifier—au moins à ce point de la recherche—la synagogue de provenance, surtout quand il s'agit d'objets sans inscriptions. Tous les objets en argent conservés actuellement remontent à une époque précédente à la construction du Temple et appartenaient à d'anciennes synagogues ou à des particuliers. Leurs inscriptions confirment une caractéristique fréSur l'histoire de les familles juives de Modena, leurs sinagogues et leurs objets du culte, pendant les siècles XVI'-XIX‫־‬, cf. Francesconi 1996-1997, chap. II et IV.

quente parmi les communautés juives de l'Italie de l'époque moderne: il était plutôt rare que les synagogues achètent des objets de culte, car dans la presque totalité des cas il s'agissait de dons faits par des particuliers. Les objets en argent de Modena nous dévoilent, pour la plupart, les étapes importantes de la vie d'une personne ou d'une communauté: le souvenir de Pinhas Nacmani, la bar mit^vah de Yemuel Coen etc., pour n'en citer que quelques-unes. Chaque moment de la vie de la famille ou de la communauté était une occasion pour enrichir la "scola" à laquelle la famille appartenait ou pour en montrer la richesse. E n effet les dons d'objets du culte raffinés étaient un des rares moments où l'individu pouvait se faire remarquer, ce qui semble, confirmé par la gravure, sur la presque totalité des objets venant de Modena, des onces de métal précieux utilisées, d'autant plus que, dans une culture qui niait catégoriquement l'essence de l'art, l'objet du culte représentait pour les juifs la seule manière de satisfaire leur goût esthétique. Les synagogues des familles Formiggini, Usiglio ou des Levi étaient bien les symboles de l'influence et de la richesse de ces familles, mais leur importance était quand-même réduite du fait que ces symboles ne pouvaient pas s'imposer visuellement. Le patrimoine de Modena se compose essentiellement de deux groupes principaux d'objets: une partie remonte au X V I I I e siècle et fut produite dans la région de Venezia, tandis que l'autre remonte au XIXe siècle et appartenait à des orfèvres de premier ordre de Modena, tels que Giovanni Manzini et Giacomo Vincenzi. 5 Dans les synagogues italiennes on trouve souvent des objets du culte venant de Venezia. E n effet, d'un côté, les commettants aimaient le style rocaille de Venezia, de l'autre, certains ateliers d'orfèvrerie du Rialto étaient spécialisés dans les objets en argent pour les synagogues; peut-être employaient-ils même des orfèvres juifs sous un nom d'emprunt. 6 Les commettants juifs de Modena jouèrent un rôle très important, non seulement pendant le X V I I I e siècle, mais aussi au cours du siècle suivant, car ils imposèrent les caractéristiques des décorations et de la morphologie des objets en argent des synagogues qui était liée aux goûts et aux impératifs de la production vénitienne. Au cours de leurs voyages d'affaires les Formiggini, les Sanguinetti, les Levi, les Nacmani et les Fano— des orfèvres et des fabricants de soie, de véritables chefs d'entreprise—achetaient des ataroth et des nmonim dans les territoires de Venezia. Les activités des familles Formiggini, Nacmani, Usiglio, Sanguinetti, qui concernaient la bijouterie et l'art de la soie, des activités assez liées entre elles dans la société juive italienne, et donc aussi à Modena, n'entrèrent que peu dans la réalisation des objets de culte; on peut plutôt affirmer que leur connaissance approfondie des orfèvres permit aux riches juifs de Modena de se servir auprès des meilleurs ateliers de Venezia du X V I I I e siècle et, comme nous le verrons, aussi chez les meilleurs artisans du siècle suivant. La préférence accordée aux ateliers de Venezia plutôt qu'à ceux de Roma était dûe à un goût bien précis; il suffit de penser aux innombra-

5

6

Sur le patrimoine historique et artistique de Modena, on peut voir Francesconi 1996-1997, chap. IV. Iiscia Bemporad, D. 1990. "L'arte cerimoniale ebraica nell'epoca del ghetto." Dans I tal Y a'. Duemila anni di cultura ebraica in Italia. Catalogue de l'exposition, par V. B. Mann. Milano, 101-117.

bles rapports qu'entretenait une famille d'orfèvres tels que la famille Formiggini dans toutes les régions italiennes. Les ataroth et les rimonin vénitiens conservés à Modena couvrent tout le X V I I I e siècle vénitien et présentent des décorations en style rocaille et rococo. Bien qu'on ne trouve pas d'objets du culte en argent réalisés sur place, dans le X V I I I e siècle, j'ai trouvé des témoignages attestant l'intervention des orfèvres locaux pour les travaux de restauration ou la réalisation d'objets également utilisés dans la liturgie catholique, telles que les lampes, dont la forme est la même dans les deux liturgies bien que leur emploi soit différent. Il convient aussi de remarquer l'absence de tassim ou demi-couronnes qui témoigne de la prépondérance, dans la communauté juive de Modena de l'époque moderne, du groupe séfarade par rapport à l'ashkénaze. L'identification des ateliers vénitiens par les poinçons qui marquent les objets de Modena semble confirmer une hypothèse qui a été énoncée dans des études concernant le patrimoine des synagogues de quelques villes de l'Italie du Nord: certains poinçons—GL VL CL—à côté du lion, le symbole de la ville de Venezia et des poinçons de La Monnaie, qui nous permettent de dater approximativement les objets 7 —n'indiqueraient pas un seul orfèvre mais plutôt des ateliers de longue tradition, où travaillèrent au cours des ans plusieurs orfèvres, patrons et salariés. Les ateliers de Venezia fabriquaient les objets pour le Sefer: ils avaient probablement des albums de modèles qui contribuaient à diffuser une typologie bien précise tout en laissant une certaine liberté aux commettants qui pouvaient choisir les décors et les symboles à apposer. 8 Par exemple, l'ensemble dévorionnel formé par un atarah et un rìm0nim de Modena ainsi qu'une couronne de Trieste 9 furent réalisés par l'atelier dont le poinçon était "CL;" ces objets présentent également le poinçon de La Monnaie utilisé à Venezia de 1713 à 1749. Ces objets ont été datés autour de la moitié du X V I I I e siècle, ce qui est confirmé par des caractéristiques typiques du style rocaille de Venezia—les effets de clair-obscur, les feuilles d'acanthe, les cartouches—qui atteint son apogée dans la période comprise entre 1740 et 1750. O n remarque ici une véritable miniaturisation du style architectonique du X V I I I e siècle, dont les formes sont prèsque cachées par une décoration surabondante; le corps central du rìm0nim, par exemple, présente des contreforts à deux volutes, des balustrades et des niches à l'intérieur desquelles sont placés les symboles du judaïsme, tandis que la partie haute est décorée de pedtes tours coiffées de coupoles avec de petits pots de fleurs. A Firenze on conserve des couronnes et des ήmonim marqués avec le même poinçon et un poinçon de la Monnaie d'époque successive. E n comparant ces objets on voit que, bien que la morphologie soit la même, les caractéristiques du style diffèrent: un certain raidissement des décors, évident sur les ob-

7 8 9

Pazzi, P. 1990.1punspni dell'argenteria e oreficeria veneqana. Venezia, 98, 144-146, 229. Cf., Liscia Bemporad D. 1974. "Arte cerimoniale ebraica." Commen tari 25. Crusvar, L. 1992. "Argend e arredi sinagogali della comunità ebraica di Trieste, X V - X I X secolo." Dans Ori e tesori d'Europa in mille anni di oreficeria in Veneria Giulia. Catalogue de l'exposition. Milano, 234-235.

jets de Firenze, appartient sans aucun doute à la phase rococo de l'orfèvrerie de Venezia. 10 Deux couples de rimonim, remontant tous les deux au X V I I I e siècle, ont une importance particulière: les fûts qui se restreignent vers la tête, autour desquels tournent des enroulements de feuilles lancéolées, appuient sur des bases circulaires. La structure se compose de petites tours à trois étages et rappelle l'extérieur de quelques immeubles de la Renaissance, dont le style est très bien repris surtout dans le deuxième couple. Ce ne sont pas des exemples isolés: D. Liscia Bemporad identifia ce courant qui reprend le style Renaissance dans deux rimonim conservés à Firenze et remontant à la fin du XVIIe siècle.11 Des exemplaires presque identiques, sont conservés à Trieste; ceux-ci aussi furent réalisés à Venise aux X V I I I e siècle et pourraient remonter aux mêmes années. Un autre coupie avec des caractéristiques analogues est conservé à Torino. 12 La région de l'Emilia présente également des rimonim en forme de grenade, dont quelques-uns sont conservés à Ferrara et à Parma, 13 les ηmonim de Modena sont tous en forme de tour à un ou plusieurs étages, conformément au goût des communautés de l'Emilia. D'ailleurs certains rimomm présentent quand-même ce fruit si chers aux juifs: dans l'ensemble dévotionnel que nous venons d'examiner, la grenade est représentée dans les sonnettes à la base de la tour alternant avec d'autres sonnettes de forme sphérique. Soulignons la présence des sphères et des grenades, car ces éléments rappellent clairement les vêtements du grand-prêtre symboliquement reproduits dans les objets du se/er. Les décorations florales et naturalistes sont étroitement liées au goût esthétique juif. E n effet le symbole de la fleur ne manque sur aucun des objets en argent de Modena, qu'il s'agisse d'un petit pot sur la coupole des rimonim ou bien de boutons appliqués tout autour du corps central de la couronne. Toutefois, sur une couronne, ce symbole se détache de manière plus évidente. La présence d'ensembles dévotionnels est très importante, du point de vue historico-artistique; ils marquent le passage de l'apogée du style rocaille vénitien, avec la décoration faite de volutes et de feuilles d'acanthe renflées qui envahissent la surface des objets, à la phase rococo de l'orfèvrerie vénitienne, qui maintient les mêmes décorations mais un peu raidies, car à la base de leur réalisation il y a le projet de l'orfèvre qui devait penser à une iconographie qui reprenne et unisse aussi bien les formes que la structure des objets; en outre, du point de vue religieux, il évoque la ville de Jérusalem avec ses tours et les remparts. Les couronnes de Modena sont toutes à comble ouvert et de grandes cartouches concaves alternent souvent avec des feuilles d'acanthe, des boucles et des boutons bombés. Les symboles du judaïsme, entourés d'une décoration également abondante, furent souvent appliqués par la suite: le lavage des mains, les tables de la loi, le ner tamid et la menorah, l'autel et l'arche sainte, le chapeau du 1° Liscia Bemporad, D. 1990. "Schede." Dans I ta! Ya'. Duemila anni di cultura ebraica in Italia. Catalogue de l'exposition, par V. B. Mann. Milano, 225—226. 11 Ibid., 224. 12 Gaglia, P. 1984. "L'arredo in argento." E n Ebrei a Torino, catalogue de l'exposition, Torino, 132. 13 Cf. Busi, G.-Bondoni, S. 1987. Cultura ebraica in Emilia Romagna. Rimini; Maugeri, V. 1997. "Arredi sinagogali e arte cerimoniale ebraica in Emilia Romagna." / / Carrobbio 23. Bologna.

prêtre, toujours dorés. Les juifs, qui aimaient particulièrement ce style si proche de l'illusion baroque pour leurs objets du culte, car il répondait à une exigence compréhensible de luxe, le refusaient résolument pour l'architecture—la synagogue Formiggini a été justement définie une synagogue anti-baroque. Comme pour d'autres communautés italiennes, telle que celle de Trieste, 14 le patrimoine d'objets en argent de Modena remontant au XIXe siècle a été fabriqué pour la plupart sur place. E n pleine époque de l'émancipation, les juifs avaient l'habitude de s'adresser aux ateliers de leur ville. Les objets en argent ont pu être attribués à un atelier donné ou à un orfèvre grâce à l'étude des poinçons, qui ont été identifiés par les recherches d'archives ou en tâchant de reconnaître les caractéristiques stylistiques d'une tradition artistique commune de laquelle s'inspiraient les orfèvres du duché. L'examen de deux rimonim conservés dans le temple israélite et d'un siddur appartenant à une collection privée nous permet de comprendre l'évolution du goût de la communauté juive de Modena et, parallèlement, celle des styles du nouveau siècle. Les caractéristiques des ήmonim sont tout à fait opposées à celles des rimonim du X V I I I e siècle: la décoration rocaille a disparu, même si la morphologie de l'objet rappelle encore clairement la tradition vénitienne. Sur un fut qui part d'une base circulaire et se restreint vers la tête, sans motifs ornementaux en vrilles de vigne, s'élève une construction à trois étages qui rappelle encore la longue tradition classique et de la Renaissance dont nous avons parlé avant. La base et la coupole, ainsi que le fut, ne présentent ni fleurs ni décors d'inspiration naturelle; la première est décorée de goudronnages, tandis que la deuxième est coiffée d'une p o m m e de pin. Des fleurs ont été appliquées sur les balustrades, disposées sur trois étages en forme d'hexagone. C'est probablement l'œuvre d'un orfèvre local—en effet les goudronnages de la base sont un trait assez caractéristique—et l'ensemble est d'une rigueur qui n'a rien à voir avec le style "à coquillage" de la production vénitienne du siècle précédent. Un siddur de Giacomo Vincenzi, un orfèvre de Modena actif de 1812 à 1837, est conservé dans une collection privée. Dans ce cas aussi cet artisan a exactement repris un modèle vénitien qui fut à la mode dès les premières années du X V I I I e siècle: l'apposition des armoiries sur les deux plats du couvercle était de règle et quant à ce siddur, il devrait s'agir des armoiries de la famille Modena et d'une autre famille que je n'ai pas réussi à identifier. Ce qu'il faut souligner c'est que le motif décoratif en vrille de vigne réalisé par Vincenzi diffère profondément de la surabondance de la décoration rocaille de Venise: cet objet présente une décoration aux lignes sobres, exempte de tout effet de clair-obscur et caractérisée par une très grande simplicité et une stylisation linéaire d'origine classique qui reflète bien la mode Empire. Le patrimoine des synagogues de Modena du X I X e siècle reflète donc l'œuvre patiente de conciliation subtile entre la société extérieure et le maintien des caractéristiques particulières de la communauté juive. La similarité des décors des objets du culte hébraïques et catholiques ainsi que de ceux à desrination profane

14

Crusvar 1992: 225.

n'indique pas seulement des changements au niveau historico-social mais témoigne aussi d'un sens esthétique commun. Un phénomène qui se vérifia à Modena à l'époque de l'émancipation fut le nivellement des différentes communautés d'origine séfarade et ashkénaze: cela est évident au niveau des objets du culte, comme le témoigne l'introduction de la tass ou demi-couronne dans le sefer. La tass, qui est aussi appelée stnàn, était originairement comme la couronne et avait perdu sa fonction spécifique de la tradition ashkénaze, c'est-à-dire celle de permettre de repérer facilement, à l'aide d'une petite plaque mobile, le sefer enroulé dans l'aron a-kodesh au point exact du passage à lire pendant les jours de fête. Les documents des archives de la famille Formiggini mentionnent souvent un cheder torà—qui signifie justement demicouronne—mais le Temple israélite de Modena ne conserve actuellement aucune tass du X V I I I e siècle. Le Temple de Modena en conserve beaucoup, de plusieurs dimensions, toutes remontant au XIXe siècle et probablement toutes de production locale (mais sur quelques-unes il n'a pas été possible de déchiffrer le poinçon abrasé). Quelques-unes présentent des décors végétaux semblables à ceux du siddur de Vincenzi: sur une forme en plaque, assez fréquente non seulement à Modena mais aussi à Parme, la partie centrale présente des ramages parfaitement symétriques, ou des éléments naturels rassemblés dans un coquillage central, ou des décors classiques disposés sur les côtés d'une plaque ovale. La partie inférieure de la tass se compose, pour la plupart, d'une bande enrichie de motifs géométriques et de losanges, délimitée par de minces bords Dans la presque totalité des cas, les inscriptions sont gravées dans une plaquette centrale, ou sont disposées sur toute la surface dans la partie centrale de la tass. Il y a deux supports d,etrog particulièrement précieux; le premier a été réalisé par l'orfèvre Manzini en 1853. Tout le seau est décoré d'enroulements végétaux avec une rose au milieu: cette fleur est également utilisée dans de très nombreux objets en argent du X I X e siècle. Il s'agit d'une décoration très élégante; en la comparant à celle de ce calice de la liturgie catholique, le style composite de cet orfèvre ressort de manière évidente: Manzini savait atténuer une décoration pleine de vie avec la froide élégance des supports d ,etrog ou, dans le calice, avec de sobres motifs stylisés en forme de palme. L. Lindri, l'autre orfèvre de Modena, réalisa le deuxième support d,etrog. Si on regarde bien, on remarque que les riches festons et les figures grotesques du manche ressemblent beaucoup à ce calice de Vincenzi. Les rangées de perles qui décorent tout le tour du bord et de la base du seau confirment que cet objet appartient au style éclectique. L'orfèvre Vincenzi réalisa également deux ner tamid: les décors sobres faits de feuilles lancéolées de laurier et d'acanthe qui se répètent de manière spéculaire dans la coupe, dans l'embouchure et sur le plat sont l'expression du style Empire que Vincenzi utilisa pour le calice que nous avons examiné avant. Le style Empire et le style éclectique sont tous les deux présents dans les œuvres des orfèvres de Modena auxquels s'adressaient aussi les commettants juifs. D'ailleurs nous retrouvons les mêmes décors, tels que les feuilles d'acanthe, de laurier, les palmes, les feuilles de chêne, le cygne et l'aigle, les figu-

res grotesques et les volutes tout au cours de la producdon artistique du X I X e siècle, comme on le voit en examinant les dessins inédits de Ferdinando Manzini et de son fils, qui décorèrent le Temple Israélite. En les comparant aux décors en stuc du Temple, on voit bien que ce répertoire obtenait la pleine approbation de la communauté juive.

J Ü D I S C H E M A L E R UND G R A P H I K E R IN SKANDINAVIEN VON DEN ANFÄNGEN IM 17. J A H R H U N D E R T BIS ZUM B E G I N N DES I . W E L T K R I E G S ESTHER GRAF-HABER Hochschule für Jüdische Studien in Heidelberg, Germany

Einleitung Aufbauend auf meine Magisterarbeit mit dem Thema "Jüdische Maler in Dänemark von den Anfängen im 18. bis zum Ende des 19. Jahrhunderts" weite ich meine Doktorarbeit auf ganz Skandinavien aus und widme mich speziell jüdischen Bildthemen in der Malerei jüdischer Künsder. Meine Dissertadon basiert auf drei Einschränkungen: 1. Als jüdisch gelten solche Maler, die entweder als Juden geboren wurden oder zum Judentum übergetreten sind. Künsder, die vom Judentum zum Christentum konverdert sind, finden in meiner Arbeit ebenfalls Erwähnung, da die christliche Konversion ein Phänomen der jüdischen Geschichte des 19. Jahrhunderts ist. 2. Jüdische Bildmotive sind: Genreszenen wie beispielsweise " Z ü n d e n der Schabbatkerzen," "Talmuddebatte" oder "Vater segnet seine Kinder;" Rabbinerportraits und Bildnisse jüdischer Persönlichkeiten wie Schriftsteller, Ärzte, Gemeindevorsitzende etc. 3. In meiner Arbeit finden nur jene jüdischen Künsder Erwähnung, die für eine längere Schaffensperiode in Skandinavien gelebt haben. Aus diesem Grund befasse ich mich in meiner Dissertation nicht mit Camille Pissarro, der ohne Zweifel als der weltweit berühmteste jüdische Maler Dänemarks bezeichnet werden kann. Er hat weder in Dänemark gearbeitet noch jüdische Motive gemalt. Als Grenzfälle, die in meiner Arbeit behandelt werden, sind solche Maler zu werten, die in anderen Ländern geboren, aufgewachsen und erst als Erwachsene in Skandinavien seßhaft geworden sind. Es ist davon auszugehen, daß diese Künsder stilistisch, thematisch u n d / o d e r in der Wahl der Bildgattung von ihrer Wirkungsstätte beeinflußt wurden. Ein bedeutender skandinavischer jüdischer Künsder, auf den das zutrifft ist der Miniaturmaler Liepmann Fraenckel. E r stammt aus Parchim in Mecklenburg, und er hat sowohl in Dänemark als auch in Schweden gewirkt. Sobald er in Schweden tätig war, übernahm er das dort übliche und ursprünglich aus Frankreich stammende zirkelrunde Format für seine Miniaturen, das in Dänemark nicht gebräuchlich war.

Neben einem umfassenden Künsder-und Werkverzeichnis soll vor allem auch die Stellung der skandinavischen jüdischen Maler und Graphiker innerhalb der jüdischen Kunst Europas untersucht werden. Meine Auseinandersetzung mit den Werken betrifft vorrangig Fragen nach der Qualität, (jüdischen und nichtjüdischen) Vorbildern in Europa und Einflüssen ausländischer jüdischer Maler. Aus diesem Grund werde ich mich besonders auf einen Vergleich zwischen Deutschland und Skandinavien konzentrieren, da Deutschland das einzige nicht skandinavische Nachbarland ist und die Geburtsstätte des jüdischen Genrebildes. Moritz Daniel Oppenheim wird daher eine wichtige Rolle in meiner Arbeit spielen.

Die Abseitsposition Skandinaviens In Dänemark und Schweden entwickelte sich rasch nach der Ansiedlung der Juden im 17. bzw. 18. Jahrhundert eine reichhaltige jüdische Kunst, die im 19. Jahrhundert vor allem ihren Niederschlag in der Malerei und Graphik fand. Die Leistungen jüdischer Künsder dieser Länder sind allerdings bis heute weitgehend unbekannt, und dies obwohl viele der skandinavischen jüdischen Maler in den Kunstzentren Europas (Paris und Rom) studiert und gearbeitet haben. O b sich die Maler im Ausland zu Zirkeln zusammengeschlossen oder ob sie sich bekannten Gruppen angeschlossen haben, dem Kreis um Bertel Thorvaldsen in Rom beispielsweise, soll in meiner Arbeit eingehend untersucht werden. Ihr Schattendasein mag zum einen daran liegen, daß viele der Maler im qualitativen europäischen Vergleich nur zweit- und drittklassige Werke geschaffen haben und zum andern, daß Skandinavien durch seine "AbseitsLage" im hohen Norden sowohl im geographischen als auch im wirtschaftlichen und politischen Geschehen Europas eine Nebenrolle einnimmt. Historische ebenso wie kunsthistorische Entwicklungen in den Ländern Skandinaviens werden weder in der allgemeinen Fachliteratur noch in der Schule und der Universität ausführlich behandelt, da zumeist die Entwicklungen der westeuropäischen Staaten im Mittelpunkt stehen. Diese Nebenrolle nimmt Skandinavien auch innerhalb der jüdischen Kunst ein, was sich vor allem in dem Fehlen einschlägiger Literatur zu meinem Arbeitsthema ausdrückt. Hierbei ist das Fehlen von Literatur unter anderem auf die starke Akkulturation der Juden in Skandinavien zurückzuführen. Die jüdischen Künsder jener Länder werden—zum Teil von der judaistischen Fachwelt Skandinaviens—als schwedische oder norwegische Maler bezeichnet. Ihr Judentum wird nicht erwähnt und daher auch nicht mit ihrem Werk in Verbindung gebracht. Bei einem Stilleben—oder Landschaftsmaler mag dies richtig erscheinen. Bei einem jüdischen Maler hingegen, der jüdische Motive malt, ist eine Werkanalyse nur mit dem Wissen um sein Judentum sinnvoll. Die Forschungsergebnisse meiner Magisterabreit haben eindeutig gezeigt, daß diese Abseitsposition innerhalb der europäischen jüdischen Kunst nicht gerechtfertigt ist. Sowohl die Anzahl der jüdischen Künsder (mehr als vierzig Maler in Dänemark vom Ende des 17. bis Anfang des 20. Jahrhunderts) als auch

die Fülle an Bildern mit jüdischen Themen machten deutlich, daß eine erstmalige Aufarbeitung und eine Neubewertung der skandinavischen jüdischen Maler und Graphiker und ihrer Werke not tut. Denn wie ich bereits erwähnt habe, fehlen Standardwerke zur Kunst der Juden in skandinavischen Ländern. In Dänemark erscheint im Herbst ein Buch zu diesem Thema, 1 das sich erstmalig in der jüdischen Geschichte Skandinaviens umfassend mit jüdischer Kunst in Dänemark befaßt. Das Kapitel über Malerei umfaßt allerdings etwa dreißig Seiten und kann daher nur Überblicksinformadonen geben. Zu einzelnen jüdischen Malern, die eine herausragende Stellung in der Kunst ihres Landes einnehmen, existieren Biographien. 2 Diese beinhalten jedoch nicht das Gesamtwerk der Künstler und erwähnen in einigen Fällen nicht einmal die Werke jüdischen Inhalts. Die jüdischen Gemeinden in Kopenhagen und Stockholm besitzen sehr interessante Gemäldesammlungen. Als essentieller Teil meiner Basisrecherche möchte ich diese Sammlungen vollständig kunsthistorisch aufarbeiten.

Jüdische Genremalerei Unter der Genremalerei holländischer Prägung des 17. Jahrhunderts versteht man Interieurbilder, die alltägliche Szenen der zeitgenössischen Bürgerhaushalte zeigen. Sehr häufig sind Familienfeste und Frauen bei der häuslichen Arbeit dargestellt. In der jüdischen Genremalerei finden wir oft die Motive der Frau beim Segnen der Schabbatkerzen und das Feiern einer Hochzeit. Ein beliebtes charakteristisch jüdisches Thema ist die Talmuddebatte. Aber auch ein häufiges Motiv wie "Vor der Synagoge" ist zur Gattung der Genremalerei zu zählen, da es eine Szene des jüdischen Alltags beschreibt. Als Vertreter der skandinavischen Länder sind herborzuheben: Geskel Salomon, Julius Friedländer und Joel Ballin. Salomon ist von besonderer Bedeutung, da er mehrere Genreszenen in unterschiedlichen Stilen gemalt hat. Vergleiche mit Werken des Begründers der jüdischen Genremalerei, dem Deutschen Moritz Daniel Oppenheim, sind hier ebenso durchzuführen wie Vergleiche mit Vertretern aus Polen (z.B. Mauricy Gottlieb) oder Österreich (z.B. Isidor Kaufmann). Mein Hauptaugenmerk lege ich auf solche Maler, die mehrere Bilder mit jüdischen Motiven geschaffen haben und auf diese Weise jene Bildgattung in ihr Werkrepertoire aufgenommen haben. Ausschließlich diese Künstler lassen eine fundierte Untersuchung der Gattung in den skandinavischen Ländern zu. Hier ist unter anderem die Frage des Stils von großer Bedeutung: Haben die jüdischen skandinavischen Maler ebenso wie ihr holländischer Kollege Jozef Israels für ihre jüdische Motivwelt einen anderen Malstil verwendet als für ihre anderen Werke? Und falls ja, welchen? Umfassende, wissenschaftliche Werke zu jüdischen Malern und Graphikern fehlen beispielsweise auch für Großbritannien, Ungarn, Frankreich, Österreich und Deutschland. Meine Doktorarbeit bringt daher nicht nur neuartige und Titel und Herausgeber siehe Auswahlbibliographie am Ende meines Aufsatzes. Siehe auch hier die Auswahlbibliographie am Ende.

wertvolle Forschungsergebnisse auf dem Gebiet der jüdischen Kunst in Europa, sondern sie soll als Publikation auch anregend und beispielhaft für die anderen europäischen Länder wirken, in Hinblick darauf, wie ein solches Sammelthema aufgearbeitet werden kann. Denn es bedarf in der wissenschaftlichen Auseinandersetzung mit der jüdischen Kunst noch immer vor allem solcher G rundlagen werke, auf deren Basis vertiefende Forschungen erst ermöglicht werden.

A uswahlbibliographie Jüdische Geschichte Balslev, B. 1932. De Danske]eders Historie. Kopenhagen. Bamberger, N . 1983. The Viking Jews. A History of the Jews of Denmark. N e w York. Valentin, H. 1924. Judarnas historia i Sverige. Stockholm.

Jüdische Kunst Geifer-Jorgensen, M. Hg. 1998. Jewish Art in Denmark. Jews in Danish Art. Kopenhagen. Industriforeningen i Ktbenhavn 1908. Jodisk Udstilling. Kopenhagen. (Ausstellungskatalog). Selskabet for dansk jodisk historié. Hg. 1984. Indenfor murene. Jedisk liv i Danmark 1684— 1984. Kopenhagen.

Einzelbiographien Raphael, Ο . 1965. En maleres väg. En krönika om Geskel Salomon 1821-1902. Malningar och Teckningar av konstnären. Stockholm. Schindler, P. 1971. Mogens Francesco Ballin. Kopenhagen. Colding, T. H. und Fraenckel, A. 1951. Liepmatm Fraenckel. Hans liv, virke og slaegt. Kopenhagen. Blomberg, E. 1956. " E r n s t J o s e p h s o n s K u n s t . " Sveriges Allnänna Konstfonnings Publikation LXV.

T H E H E B R E W INSCRIPTIONS IN LUDOVICO MAZZOLINO'S PAINTINGS DALIA HAITOVSKY The Hebrew University, Israel

T h e extensive use Ludovico Mazzolino made of Hebrew Inscripdons in his work is quite unique. Hebrew appears in at least twelve pictures, and the sophisdcated use the ardst made of it shows a knowledge of the language by the ardst or his advisers. That rudimentary Hebrew inscripdons appear in Renaissance art, whether in Italy or the N o r t h , is well known by now. We find it in certain subjects such as the Crucified Christ, where one of the languages used in the Titulus Crucis is Hebrew as ordered by Pilate (Jn 19:19-20), or occasionally, the Kings and Prophets of the Old Testament are named in Hebrew. At most the ten Commandments are shown inscribed in Hebrew. 1 The appearance of Hebrew in painting is often explained as an element in the quest for historical veracity in Istoria painting helped by the spread of humanism that made the knowledge of ancient languages possible. Mazzolino's paintings do not fall in that general category. H e uses a variety of phrases in a way that adds another layer to the imagery of the pictures. Moreover, the quantity is a telling factor by itself. It signifies that there was a demand for Hebrew from a relatively widespread group of patrons, w h o either understood the meaning of the inscriptions or wanted to appear to be able do so. O n e finds a similar sophisticated use of Hebrew in another Ferrarese painter, probably one of Mazzolino's teachers, Lorenzo Costa. In his Presentation of Jesus in the Temple (formerly in the Kaiser Fridrich Museum, destroyed in 1945), Hebrew phrases are inscribed on a tablet held by the prophetess Anna, and what is said appears to fill a lacuna in the Biblical story. While the story of the Présentation in Lk 2:22-38 tells of the old prophetess w h o bears witness to Simeon's prophecy, it does not give Anna's specific words. Costa gives us the exact words she "uses," making her quote from the Old and N e w Testaments, and by changing the phrases slighdy, pointing to the Child Jesus as the coming Christ. 2 Costa painted this altarpiece in 1502 for a patron in Bologna, A n t o n Galleazzo Bentivaglio (it is signed and dated). While Mazzolino did his largest altarpiece with the most elaborate Hebrew in it, Jesus Disputing the Doctors in the Temple (Ber1

2

T h e research for this article was funded by a grant from the Robert and Clarica Smith Center for Art History. For the most recent and extensive coverage of the use of Hebrew in Renaissance art see: Ronen, A. 1993. "Iscrizioni Ebraiche nell'arte italiana del Quatrocento." In Stadi di storia delt'arte su/Medioevo e it Rinascimento neI Centenario delta nascita di Mario Salmi. Firenze, 601-624. For the deciphering of the Hebrew on Lorenzo Costa's Presentation in the Temple see: Haitovsky, D. "A N e w Look at a Lost Painting: The Hebrew Inscription in Lorenzo Costa's Presentation in the Temple." Atrihus et Historiae 15, no. 29,111-120.

lin, Bode Museum) (Plate 1) in 1524 (signed and dated), for another patrician Bolognese patron, Francesco Caprara. 3 Although twenty years have passed between the creadon of the two works, they were ordered by patrons belonging to the same milieu, that of the Ferrara-Bologna humanist circles. The aim of this paper is to try to shed some light on Mazzolino's use of Hebrew in his paintings. Beside reading the Hebrew one has to find what does it add to the iconography and what made it so popular in that particular region (Ferrara, Bologna) at that specific period of time (covering roughly the high Renaissance). Ludovico Mazzolino (1480-1530) was born in Ferrara, the son of the painter Giovanni Mazzolino. The question who were his teachers brings us direcdy to those we are dealing with. Vasari says he trained with Costa in Bologna, Morelli suggests Domenico Panetti, but Berenson mentions Ercole Roberti as his master, with later influences from Costa and Dosso. Cosme Tura is sometimes added to this list.4 Most of these painters, who were Ferrarese and worked also in Bologna, use Hebrew inscriptions in their paintings. Tura uses Hebrew in the Poverella altarpiece, Madonna and Child with the Playing Angels (London, National Gallery). The Madonna sits on a throne on which the Ten Commandments are inscribed in Hebrew. 5 The San Sebastian (Dresden, Gemäldegalerie), sometimes given to Tura, is signed in Latin but with the Hebrew letters " O p u s laurenzi Costa." 6 The Hebrew inscriptions in Mazzolino's work appear in four subjects, and only in one of them, The women Taken in Adultery, it is an integral part of the Biblical story. In J n 8:2-11 Jesus is said to stoop twice writing on the and the sand, while Pharisees try to read what he wrote. The author does not specify, however, what was written. The other three subjects where Hebrew is written by Mazzolino, are Jesus Dispute with the Doctors, Circumcision, and Ecce Homo. Form reading the Hebrew one realizes that Mazzolino uses the same phrases, sometimes, for different subjects. The case of one phrase is relatively simple, it says, ‫ " — ה ב י ת אשר בנה ש ל מ ה ל ה ׳‬t h e house which Solomon built for the L o r d " (1 Kings 6:2). It identifies the Temple as the locale of the event depicted and as such one finds it on various versions of the Dispute (Berlin Dahlem and Bode Museums; London National Gallery; Rome, Galleria Capitolina), and in one version of the Ecce Homo (Chantilly, Musée Condé). Looking at the Hebrew inscriptions in these pictures, the Dispute—in the Berlin Dahlem Museum (Plate 2, detail), in the London National Gallery (Plate 3, detail), and the Ecce Homo—in Chantilly Musée Condé (Plate 4), two facts become obvious. First, the Hebrew Script varies and the name of the Almighty is abbreviated to a single letter and not just copied from the text. I think those two phenomena 3

4

5 6

For Mazzolino see: Zamboni, S. 1968. Ludovico Μαςχο/ίηο. Milano. For the Presentation in the Tempie, Berlin, Bode Museum, 36-37. Gardner, E. Q. 1911. The Paintings of the School of Ferrara. London, 139. For an exhaustive bibliography up to 1968 see: Zamboni, Μα^χοΙίηο, 67-72. Thieme-Becker, Künstler Lexikon, XXVI, Leipzig, 1930, 313. Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister Dresden. Dresden, 1991, 228. Ruhmer, B. 1950. Tura. London, fig. 50. Gemäldegalerie, 325.

are connected. They might show Mazzolino's need for an adviser wridng out the Hebrew for him, in each case a different one. Also this adviser must be a Jew or somebody familiar with the customs of observant Jews that forbid the spelling out of God's name either in speech or wridng. The second phrase Mazzolino uses is more problematic. It comes from Lev 23:42 and says, ‫ כל האזרח בישראל ישבו בסכת‬,‫בסבת ת ש ב ו ש ב ע ת ימים‬, "Ye shall dwell in booths seven days: all that are Israelites shall dwell in booths." Mazzolino puts it in an Ecce Homo in the Dresden Gamüldegalerie (Plate 5, detail), in a Dispute in the Rome Galleria Doria Pamphili (Plate 6). Here the script of plates 5 and 6 is similar. Also it seems to be copied from the sacred text, again the artist does not seem to know the language because he omits the last letter (‫ )ת‬of the word ‫( סכת‬booths). 7 Moreover, sometimes he connects two words by not providing enough space between them. The proof that the phrase was copied from the text lies in the way the word ‫( סכת‬booths) is written in plural, omitting the letter " ‫ " ו‬in a manner called defective spelling which is rare and archaic. However, it is written so in the Biblical text. The question is why would a phrase commanding the people of Israel to observe the feast of Tabernacles by living in booths appear in a medallion as part of the architecture of the Temple? Surely not to fix the time of the events depicted either in the Dispute or the Ecce Homo both happening at different stages of Jesus's life, during the Passover and not in the Tabernacle feast. Another relevant question is whether there is a reason to interchange these two phrases, "the house that Solomon built," and "you shall dwell in booths," in the subjects of the Dispute and the Ecce Homo, and what is the link, if any, between them? Answering these questions will reveal exacdy the additional hidden layer to the iconography that the Hebrew inscripdons provide. The Dispute of the Child Jesus with the Doctors is a favorite subject of Mazzolino. It is the subject of his largest altarpiece (m 2.55x1.79) (Berlin, Bode Museum, Plate 1), done for Francesco Caprara in Bologna, and the only one mentioned in the early sources of Vasari and Lamo. 8 Being the artist's masterpiece it has also the most varied and elaborate Hebrew inscriptions. It is the last of a series of small format pictures on the subject, the almost page-size panels favored by Mazzolino. The story of the Child Jesus dispute with the doctors is told in Lk 2:41—51, where being on a pilgrimage to the Temple during the Passover feast, Jesus went missing for three days. He was found eventually by his parents discussing with the Temple's doctors points of the law, "and all that heard him were astonished at his understanding and answers" (Lk 2:47). This is the first manifestation of Jesus as a teacher. 9 The story adheres to the tradidon of child-

7

8

9

The way the word booths is usually written is Γ1Ό0 with a ‫ י׳‬and not ‫ ס כ ת‬as in Lev 23:42, which Mazzolino copied. See: Even-Shoshan, A. 1974. Hamilon Haivry Hamerukaç. Jerusalem, 490. Writing in the mode Mazzolino copied is called Scriptio defective1, or defecdve orthography. Vasari, G. 1586. Le Vite dé piú ecceltenti pittori, scuttori et architettori. Firenze, ed. Mi1anesi, Firenze, 1878, Vol. III, 138-139. Lamo, P. 1560. Graticola di Bologna. Bologna, repr. Bologna, 1844, 24-25. Réau, L. 1957. Iconographie de l'art chrétien. Paris, I, 289. Schiller, G. 1971. Iconography of Christian Art. London, 124.

hood tales of heroes and leaders and to the Jewish tradition where Moses leaves his family at the age of 12, Samuel finds his vocation at 12, and Daniel has a vision at that age. In the visual art the encounter between Jesus and the doctors became a Dispute with Jesus sitting in the middle surrounded by the doctors who marvel at his words. Since the Middle Ages one sees Jesus's parents who found him among the listeners. 10 The boy Jesus often sits on an elaborately decorated throne-like chair, his feet on a pedestal, raising his hand in an orator's gesture, or counting his arguments on his fingers in the traditional gesture taken from theological disputes since the Middle Ages. There usually is a contrast between Jesus's handsome face and the faces of the doctors whose physiognomy is cancatured. They also show their amazement and objection to Jesus by gesticulating wildly." This is in general Mazzolino's compositional framework. In the Caprara Dispute (Plate 1) on the medallion seen through the main arch of the gallery, is inscribed in Hebrew, "the house that Solomon built for the Lord," the same phrase that appears also in the versions in Berlin, Dahlem (Plate 2), and London National Gallery (Plate 3). The sentence itself is taken from 1 Kings 6:1-2, that tells the story of the building of the Temple. It gives the starting date, "the fourth year of Solomon's reign in the month of Zif, which is the second month," and the words quoted come from phrase 2, " . . . t h e house that King Solomon built for the Lord." Only the name of the Lord is not spelled out here as was mentioned, and the word king is omitted. There are other Hebrew inscriptions in the Caprara painting. O n the base of the left column in the gallery (Plate 7) appears the Hebrew phrase, ‫למים‬1‫בניה בניתי בית זבל לך מכון ל ש ב ת ך ע‬, taken from 1 Kings 8:13, which reads "I have surely built thee an house to dwell in, a setded place for thee to abide in for ever." 12 This comes from Solomon's prayer to the Lord after bringing the Covenant into the newly built Temple. Thus, the artist quotes two phrases: one on the medallion from commencing the work and the other on the left column's base from the end of the process. The building of the Temple lasted seven years (1 Kings 5:38), and it was inaugurated in the feast of the seventh month, the month of Ethanim (1 Kings 8:1-2). That is the feast of Booths or Tabernacles. This brings us direcdy to the other Biblical phrases Mazzolino makes use of from Lev 23, the chapter dealing with the rules of the feast of Booths, and gives its date on phrase 34, "The fifteenth day of the seventh month shall be the feast of Tabernacles for seven days unto the Lord." Mazzolino quotes the exact words to the letter from phrase 42 of the same chapter, "Ye shall dwell in booths seven days: All that are Israelite born shall dwell in booths." As mentioned he uses this phrase in the version of the Dispute (Rome, Doria Pamphili, Plate 6) and of the Ecce Homo (Dresden, Gemüldegalerie, Plate 5).

10 11

12

Réau, I, 289. Josephus Flavius Jewish Antiquities, V, 348, X, 195-210. Schiller, I, 124-125. Réau, I, 289. In later art, in the art of the Counter-Reformation, the Reformers, are shown as the doctors, for instance in a painting by Franz Fransken, Antwerp Cathedral. Schiller, I, 125. I want to thank Professor Malachi Bet-Arye for helping me read this Hebrew inscription. The word ‫ זבל‬is written in "defective" spelling as was the case with ‫ ס ל ח‬beforehead.

There are yet more Hebrew inscriptions in this picture. In the book held by a spectacled man wearing an oriental head gear, one could read the words written on the left page: Two as sin offering The Levites, before to me, offer it and gather them T h e tabernacle sacrifice assembly of the children of Israel

‫ושני‬ ‫ח ט א ת והק‬ ‫הלוויים ל פ נ י‬ ‫לי ה ק ר ב א ת‬ ‫והקהלת אותם‬ ‫אהל מועד‬ ‫ב‬ ‫הקכ‬ ‫ע ד ת בני י ש ר א ל‬

It seems to me that these words are quoted from the laws concerning those who served in the tabernacle of the congregation. They are taken from N u 8:8-10, which reads in Hebrew: ‫ופר שני בן בקר ת ק ח ל ח ט א ת ו ה ק ר ב ת את הלוים לפני א ה ל מ ו ע ד ו ה ק ה ל ת את כל ע ד ת‬ ‫הלוים‬ ‫את יידיהסיעל‬ ‫ ו ס מ כ ו בני ישראל‬,‫יהוה‬ ‫הלוים לפני‬ ‫ק ר ב ת א ת‬V ‫ • ו ה‬.‫ראל‬4‫יע‬ ‫בני‬..· · τ ι · ‫ · ן‬- — ν ‫ ״‬I V ·· Τ I · "I !Τ‫י ו‬ ·· ‫ · ו‬- · ‫ ן‬I~M · ‫ו‬ These phrases deal with the tasks of the Levites concerning the sacrifices in the tabernacle. The translation is: (8) " . . . and another young bullock shalt thau take for a sin offering. (9) And thau shalt bring the Levites before the tabernacle of the congregadon; and thau shalt gather the whole assembly of the children of Israel together; (10) And thau shalt bring the Levites before the Lord; and the children of Israel shall put their hands upon the Levites." The whole chapter lays down the law of the Levites, the tribe chosen to serve in the Tabernacle, what are their duties and how will the people of Israel treat them. In the book held upside down by the turbaned man in the right background seated near the contemplative figure, both discussing the text, one can see the words: [‫]איש‬...‫ו ע ש ו אותו וה‬ [‫א ש ר ה ו א ט ה ו ר ובןדרך‬ ‫לא היה‬ ‫וחדל לעשות פסח‬ ‫נכרתה ה נ פ ש ה ה י א‬ ‫מ ע מ י ה כי קרבן י ה ו ה‬ ‫ל א הקריב ב מ ו ע ד ו‬ ‫]חטאו[ ישא האיש ההוא‬

The phrase comes from Nu 9, parts of verses 12 and 13. (9:12-13): ...they shall keep it. (13) But the man that is clean and is not in ajourney, andforbear to keep the Passover, even the same soul shall be cut-offfrom among his people: because he brought not the offering of the Lord in his appointed season, that man shall bear his sin. Again, it is possible that the copyist did not know the language. O n e letter in the word ‫ ו ע ש ו‬is written backwards and the line ‫ לא הקריב ב מ ו ע ד ו‬is written twice. So, we see that the Hebrew inscriptions in the books help to fill a lacuna in the story in Lk 2:41-51. It tells us what exacdy were the questions the boy Jesus raised with the doctors in the Temple. They were concerned with the Temple

··I

duties of the Levites and especially with the laws of the feast of Passover, the actual time and reason why the 12 year-old Jesus was in the Temple to begin with. Stands to reason that he queried the doctors about the law of the feast, those concerning the sacrifices, the tasks of the Levites performing them, and the obligations of every Israelite to keep the Passover whether he is in the Tempie or far away from it. Thus, the knowledge of Hebrew adds to the picture's iconography, and the painter or his adviser were conscientious enough to copy the appropriate text even in the book held upside down. However, the layman w h o does not know Hebrew will be able to recognize the meaning of the Dispute because of its setting, participants and familiar composition, but being able to read the inscription will reveal a hidden meaning to the initiated. N o w is the time to answer the questions, why would Mazzolino use the Hebrew phrases "Ye shall dwell in booths," and "The house that Solomon built for the Lord," interchangeably in the Dispute and Ecce Homo pictures? The answer might be found in the place of the Temple and the feast of Tabernacle in the Christian dogma. The Temple in the Christian tradition remains only through the concept of Jesus's sacrifice, that brought eternal redemption to the world. Jesus predicted the destruction of the Temple (Mk 13:12). In the eschatological vision of the early Christians there was no place for the Temple. O n the one hand, the fact that the Temple was destroyed is by itself an evidence that Jesus was right, and on the other, there were theological reasons for neglecting to rebuild the Tempie. Jesus's entrance to the eternal Temple canceled forever the need for other sacrifices in a celestial or earthy Temple. 13 The boy Jesus starts His mission at the age of 12, by disputing with the theologians of the Old Testament in the Temple. He declares His mission to His parents who do not understand it. He bears witness to His real Father in the House of His Father. The Temple will be destroyed and Jesus's body is the true Temple Qn 2:19). So, the beginning of the process of the replacement of the Jewish earthly Temple is in the episode of the Dispute, and the end is in the Ecce Homo, when He is presented to the Jews in the Temple who caused His death by refusing to believe in Him. Therefore, confirming His prophecy. The Christian Church takes the place of the Temple, and the Sistine Chapel, for instance, was built to accord with the Temple's dimensions, and the Temple plays a major role in the iconography of its decorations. 14 The Christian meaning of the Festival of Tabernacles is more evolved and complicated. The feast of Tabernacles is one of the major events in the Jewish calendar, being both an agricultural festival, the feast of the ingathering (Ex 23:16; 34:22), but also a temple pilgrimage event, the feast of Booths (Deut 16:13-15; 31:10-11). In N u 29:13-28 one finds its detailed sacrifice regulations, and in Lev 23:34-36; 39—43 the reason for dwelling in booth is given, to com13 14

Freedman, D . 1992. The Anchor Bible Dictionary. N e w York, I, 367. Seymour, C. 1972. Michelangelo—The Sistine Ceiling. N e w York, 82.

memorate the living in makeshift booths in the desert after the Egyptian bondage. The feast is also associated with the dedication of Solomon's Temple of 1 Kings 8.15 The Mishnah tractate Sukkah gives us an idea of the celebration of the feast during the days of the Second Temple. It describes the Sukkah (booth), the lulav, the willow procession around the altar, the water-drawing ceremony, the festal joy and the nocturnal light festivities and flute playing. 16 In the New Testament John mentions the Feast of Tabernacles. In it Jesus's disciples ask Him to reveal Himself by going to Jerusalem during the feast but He refused first and then went in secret (Jn 2:6,10). But later on He changed His mind (7:37), "the last day of the feast, the great day, Jesus stood and cried saying, if any man thirst let him come unto me and drink. (38) He that believeth on me... out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water." The feast of Tabernacles is connected to the Transfiguration story, mentioned in it are the three tabernacles and bright clouds (Mt 17:78; Mk 9:273; Lk 9:28-36). The Transfiguration happened on a tall mountain and lasted a week (in Luke 8 days). There is a connecdon to the Old Testament in Jesus climbing the mountain to meet Moses and Elijah, and the mention of the three tabernacles dates the Transfiguration. Jesus radiance and the brightness of the clouds covering the Aposdes are allusions to the feast of Tabernacles, in which the Temple was ablaze with brightness. 17 Thus, the Christian use of symbols of the feast of Tabernacles for their own purpose. The sacrifices ceremonies in the Temple are only forehadowings of Christ who is the High Priest of the sacrifice (Heb 7:1-10, 13), unique and eternal (Heb 8:1-2; 9:25-26; 10:11-14; 12:2). In 2Peter (1:13) and the Epistle to the Corinthians (2Cor 5:1,4) Jesus's body is a tabernacle. The ceremony of Libation in the feast is explained in the New Testament (Jn 7:37) when Jesus declares Himself as the font of living water, and when Ezekiel (Ezek 47:8-9) and Zechariah (Zee 14:8-10) speak of living water flowing from Jerusalem when all the nations will come to Jerusalem, Jesus refers to the eschatological meaning of these texts as the flowing life of God. This idea is expanded in the Baptism which is an outpouring the Spirit. The !Entry to Jerusalem and The Mocking of Christ, when Jesus is crowned with a crown of thorns, is connected with the willow procession and leafy boughs of the feast and probably with the High Priest's wearing an ivy crown as told by Tacitus (Histories 5:5).18 Therefore, in the Dispute Jesus is shown in the Temple, the house that Solomon built for the Lord, and the one which He with His bodily sacrifice will replace. Jesus argues with the doctors the laws of the Levites tasks and the laws of the Passover sacrifice, as reading the Hebrew texts show. The inauguration of the Temple happened during the Tabernacle feast and we are reminded of it twice by Mazzolino, firsdy when he quotes Solomon's prayer when bringing the Covenant into the new Temple, "I have surely built thee a house to dwell" in the Cappella Caprara version, and then when he inscribes "Ye shall dwell in booths" in the Dispute in the Doria Pamphili in Rome. This is the beginning of 15 16 17 18

Ulfgard, H. 1989. Feast and Future. Llund, 113. Ibid., 100. New Catholic Encyclopedia. Vol. II, 243. Ibid., Vol. 13, 805.

the process that happened in the Temple, but the lighted temple will be replaced with "the light of the world" and the water in the libadon ceremony foretells the "living water" and are an allusion to His blood at the Crucifixion. The Ecce Homo is the end, He is shown to the crowd wearing a crown of thorns and is about to be the victim. He will be the House and the Tabernacle. The time has come to try to answer the quesdon of the extensive and sophisdcated use of Hebrew in paindng in the Ferrara and Bologna regions. T o my understanding, one could not assume that the responsibility lies with the arusts only, the patrons' wishes should be accounted for. As mendoned above, there was already in Bologna a major altarpiece by the Ferrarese painter Costa, a Presentation in the Temple in a church near the hospital of Santa Maria della Vita. The patron Anton Galeazzo Bentiviglio appears in the paindng wearing a monk's habit with a whip of the Campagnia in his hands. Mazzolino, a Ferrarese working in Bologna, followed Costa's example but surpassed him in the use of Hebrew. Like Costa he signed and dated the picture in Latin: M D X X I I I , Zenar, Ludivicus Mazzolinus, Ferrarensis. He incorporated his patron Francesco Caprara on the left side wearing sixteenth century clothes in a prayer pose like his counterpart the virgin on the right side. The Child Jesus turns toward Caprara raising His right hand in an orator's gesture, as if speaking to him personally. The patron, Francesco Caprara, who ordered the Dispute, comes from a disdnguished Ferrarese family. Francesco di Matteo Caprara, born in 1496, was a humanist and a poet, and the use of Hebrew in an altar for his family chapel in San Francesco attested to his erudition. 19 He chose Mazzolino who proved his knowledge of the language in other paintings and the artist on his part helped to enhance his patron's fame by using even many more Hebrew phrases than did Costa for his altar. The knowledge of the language in Bologna could come from two sources, Christian or Jewish. There was a Hebrew department in the University of Bologna since 1464, and a thriving Jewish community from the middle of the fifteenth century. 20 Giovanni Bentivaglio, the ruler of Bologna, took the Jews under his protection even when the preacher Bernardino da Feltre started a campaign against them. The Jews were not allowed to study in the university, however they were able to bypass the church laws and sell expensive Christian books brought from churches and monasteries, by permission, to the universities of Padua and Bologna. There were also Jewish presses in Bologna from 1477.21 In Ferrara, where Mazzolino came from, the cultural milieu was even more favorable for the appearance of Hebrew in painting. Abraham Ben Haim, de Tintori (the painter) from Ferrara was a Hebrew printer and his name appears on a Hebrew book published in Ferrara in 1447. Ferrara became a center of Hebrew printing at the time of Ercole I d'Este. His court attracted scholars, philosophers, artists, poets and musicians. The Duke's aim to compete commercially with Venice encouraged the emigration of Jews to Ferrara, thence they 19 20

21

Dolfi, P. S. 1670. Famiglie nobili di Bologna. Bologna, 239. Roth, C. 1962. The Hisloiy ofJews in Italy. Tel-Aviv, 80-81 (Hebt.); Sacradoti, A. 1986. All'ltalia Ebraica. Genova, 203. Amram, D . W. 1900. The Makers of the Hebrew Book in Italy. Philadelphia, repr. 1993, 45-88.

camc and prospered there. By Ducal order in 1473, Jews were exempt from excepdonal taxes, an act that dealt a blow to church revenue. Jews came to Ferrara from other places in Italy and after 1492 from Spain as well.22 The taste for Hebrew in painting could thus be explained by the humanistic atmosphere helped by the availability of Hebrew presses and Jewish scholars eager to help out. Ercole d'Este was a devout Christian who liked to stage religious disputes between Jews and Christians. A record of such debate from around 1502 under the auspices of Ercole I, a book that has a Hebrew and Italian versions by Abraham Farisol. The book Magen Avraham (The Shield of Abraham) was written after a debate by Abraham Farisol, who was born in Avignon in 1407, emigrated to Ferrara in 1473, and died around 1503.23 In the book Farisol describes the circumstances that brought about its writing. The Duke and his wife and brother called him many times to discuss theology with two Christians, the Dominican Ludovico from Valencia and a Brother from Alpeto. Later on he was forced to publish his arguments so that they might be able to answer him. His reluctance is emphasized even in the book's name, Magen Avraham, where he calls God to be his shield.24 These staged debates could provide at least some answer for the frequent demand to paint the 12 years-old Jesus Dispute with the Doctors. Mazzolino has five pictures on this subject surviving now, and there might have been more. His compositions are elaborated and varied so realistically that one dares to assume that he could have been a spectator in such a dispute. Moreover, his picture of the Ecce Homo in Dresden and Chantily are composed like a heated debate although this is not necessarily the case in the traditional iconography. Mazzolino was a favorite painter in d'Este's court and among his patrons were the Duke Ercole I, Lucrezia Borgia the wife of Alfonso I, Alfonso I, Cardinal Ippolito and Sigismundo d'Este, who commissioned at least one of the Dispute pictures. Did Mazzolino know Hebrew? Even if answered in the affirmative he must have had advisers to direct him in making the fine points in theology discussed above. The availability of people knowing Hebrew, whether among the Chrisdans or the Jewish community, facilitated his task. The use of Hebrew inscriptions in art in Italy or the North continued to the next century, by Rembrandt, Caravaggio and others. But never before or after was it done with such frequency and fluency as by Mazzolino.

22 23

24

lb!d., 34-41. Levinger, S. D. Ukutim Mise/er Magen Avraham. Budapest. There are twelve manuscripts of Magen Avraham in Budapest, Vienna, London, Breslaw, Oxford and New York. Seven or eight manuscripts in Italian are in Berlin, London and Oxford. See: Ibid., 3 - 4 . Ibid., 10-11.

FIG. I: L u d o v i c o Mazzolino, Jesus Disputing the Doctors in the Temple. Berlin, B o d e M u s e u m .

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FIG. 2: Ludovico Mazzolino, /«raw Disputing the Doctors in the Temple, detail. Berlin, Dahlem Museum.

FLG. 3: Ludovico Mazzolino, Jesus Disputing the Doctors in the Temple, detail. London, National Gallery.

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FIG. 4: Ludovico Mazzolino, ECCE Homo, detail. Chantilly, Museum Condé.

FLG. 5: Ludovico Mazzolino, ECCE Homo, detail. Dresden, Gemäldegalerie.

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‫ליהא ז ל ח‬.‫י־םלי״כזבדי‬ ·-ν‫ — ~ •«—·״‬- »7— ^•‫«״‬τ » - » — l·—. — . · ‫ירך‬-ν : í ? u

FIG. 6: Ludovico Mazzolino, Jesus Disputing the Doctors in the Temple, detail. Rome, Galleria Doria Pamphili.

FLG. 7: Ludovico Mazzolino, Jesus Disputing the Doctors in the Temple, detail. Berlin, Bode Museum.

A N C I E N N E S SYNAGOGUES DE M O D E N A (XVI E -XIX E SIÈCLE) V1NCENZA MAUGERI Museo Ebraico di Bologna, Italy O n sait que la région Emilia-Romagna est l'une des zones d'Italie d o n t le tissu urbain conserve de très n o m b r e u x témoignages et traces de l'ancienne présence des c o m m u n a u t é s juives. D e s recherches et des travaux de catalogage systématique, menés au cours de ces dernières années et qui ont consisté à examiner des f o n d s d'archives, des codes miniaturisés, des ketubot, des manuscrits et des livres hébreux, o n t mis en évidence l'importance des différents aspects et c o m p o s a n t s de ce patrimoine historique et artistique. U n e étude exemplaire dans ce sens a été le recensement effectué par l'Istituto Beni Culturali della Regione Emilia Romagna en 1984 concernant les présences au niveau du tissu urbain et de l'architecture—les synagogues, les juiveries, les ghettos et les cimetières—et les objets rituels publics et domestiques; les résultats de ce recensement o n t attiré l'attention d ' u n vaste public grâce à la publication de livres et à l'organisation d'expositions et de séminaires d'études. 1 D e nombreuses recherches plus spécifiques ont été entreprises à partir de ce recensement et d'autres études plus approfondies de caractère historique et historico-artistique sont actuellement en cours. La présence des juifs à partir du XIVe siècle est documentée en 43 endroits; 27 de ces agglomérations o n t u n cimetière juif, parfois encore utilisé; du point de vue urbanistique, 32 localités présentent un quartier qui était anciennement habité par les juifs, qu'il s'agisse d'une juiverie, d'un lieu de résidence forcé ou plus simplement d'une "maison du juif." Les véritables ghettos dans notre régions étaient au n o m b r e de dix (Correggio, Guastalla, Reggio Emilia, Carpi, Modena, Bologna, Cento, Ferrara, Lugo, Rimini); aujourd'hui, à l'exception de celui de Modena, ils peuvent encore être tous visités et o n peut y trouver les immeubles qui abritaient les temples et les oratoires, les établissements scolaires et hospitaliers, les échoppes et m ê m e les points précis où se trouvaient les portes qui fermaient le ghetto. D e s traces de synagogues o n t été retrouvées dans trente agglomérations; de ces anciens lieux de culte, seulement quatre sont encore actuellement utilisés p o u r la célébration des rites (Parma, Soragna, Modena et Ferrara), tandis qu'à Bologna la synagogue a été modernisée dans les années 50. 2

Bondoni, S. M.-Busi, G. 1997. Cultura ebraica in Emilia-Romagna. Rimini; Maugeri, V. 1994. "Oggetti rituali e arredi sinagogali della Comunità di Reggio." Dans Gii ebrei a Reggio nell'età contemporanea. Reggio Emilia, 139-151. Maugeri, V. 1996. "Il patrimonio ebraico in Emilia-Romagna." Dans II ghetto riscoperto. Bologna, récupéra e rinascita di un luogo. Bologna, 54—57; Maugeri, V. 1996. "I beni storico-artistici:

Le patrimoine représenté par les objets de culte et l'ornementation des synagogues est encore important bien que la seconde guerre mondiale ait laissé une trace profonde avec ses spoliations, la destruction et la dissémination des objets dont une partie au moins a été rendue à Israël. 3 Examinons l'époque dite des "codes miniaturisés," c'est-à-dire la période comprise entre le XIVe et le XVe siècle; en Emilia Romagna les premières traces de la présence de juifs venant de l'Italie centrale remontent à la première moitié du X I V e siècle et leur présence paraît très importante à l'Est, dans les villes les plus grandes telles que Ravenna, Rimini, Lugo, Ferrara, Faenza, Cesena, ainsi que dans les plus petits centres—Brisighella, Meldola, Bertinoro. Au cours des décennies suivantes et surtout du XVe siècle, les juifs s'établirent dans les villes de l'Emilia—Parma, Reggio, Modena—et dans les petites agglomérations des alentours—Busseto, Soragna, Cortemaggiore. Dans beaucoup de ces localités, la présence d'une synagogue ou d'un oratoire, toujours placés près des édifices des autorités civiles et religieuses, est attestée par les fonds d'archives, par des contrats et des testaments qui mentionnent le legs d'objets de culte, le don de parements en tissu, de sommes d'argent destinées à la célébration des rites ou à la réalisation d,aronot. Toutefois il ne reste presque rien des édifices destinés au culte hébraïque remontant à ces siècles; en effet ce n'est qu'en comparant les documents d'archives avec les illustrations des codes miniaturisés que nous pouvons obtenir quelques informations qui restent toutefois bien lacuneuses. 4 Une exception précieuse est représentée par l'aroti ha-kodesh de 1472, venant de Modena et actuellement en exposition au Musée Cluny de Paris; il s'agit d'un meuble à deux corps, revêtu sur trois côtés de panneaux quadrangulaires entaillés disposés sur sept ordres et dont les coins sont délimités par des colonnes torses. Les éléments ajourés et la marqueterie fine qui encadre les panneaux rappellent l'art des Da Basio et des graveurs sur bois actifs entre la période gothique et la Renaissance, et notamment des maîtres les plus connus Canozi di Lendinara et plus spécialement Cristoforo: ce dernier d'ailleurs, à cette époque-là travaillait justement à Modena sur de nombreuses commandes. La persistance de formes archaïques gothiques à la fin du XVe siècle, évidente dans les ajours aux formes abstraites et géométriques de goût flamboyant, était justifiée par la règle religieuse hébraïque qui interdisait toute représentation de la figure humaine dans l'art, mais était également amplement présente dans l'art chrétien; on a donc raison de croire que les objets de culte utilisés dans les synagogues présentaient le même style que le reste de la production artistique, ce qui est un indice de l'intégration avec les ateliers locaux. D'ailleurs le rapport avec les artisans devait être caractérisé par la compétence et la capacité à faire

l'esperienza dell'Emilia Romagna." Dans La tutela dei beni cultural! ebraici in Italia. Bologna, 38-40; Maugeri, V. 1997. "I luoghi e i material! ebraici in Emilia-Romagna." Dans Musei Ebraici in Europa. Orientamenti eprospettive. Milano, 56-61. Maugeri, V. 1997. "Arredi sinagogali e arte cerimoniale ebraica in Emilia-Romagna." Il Carrobbio, 23, 51-64. Bologna. Cf. Mortara Ottolenghi, 1997. "Figure e immagini dal secolo XIII al secolo XIX." Dans Storia d'ltalia. Annali II. Gli ebrei in Italia. Torino, 967-1008.

des comparaisons car, du fait de leur activité commerciale, les juifs savaient bien reconnaître les objets de valeur, les meubles d'art et anciens. 5 C o m m e nous l'avons dit plus haut, la présence des juifs à Modena remonte au XVe siècle. E n 1473 Ercole D'Esté de Ferrara permit aux juifs qui habitaient dans son État, qui comprenait également le territoire de Modena, de construire des synagogues et des oratoires pour y officier leur rites, lire et écrire. 6 E n ce qui concerne cette période, les documents témoignent de la présence de nombreuses synagogues et oratoires pour une communauté qui prospérait sous la protection de la famille d'Esté. E n effet les ducs accueillirent à Modena des juifs espagnols, portugais et allemands venant de plusieurs villes qui trouvérent ici une nouvelle patrie qui leur accordait, grâce aussi à leurs richesses considérables, des privilèges ainsi que l'autorisation à continuer leurs rites et à respecter leurs traditions. 7 Bien qu'il ne reste rien des intérieurs des anciennes synagogues de Modena du XVe siècle, citées dans les documents, les témoignages des codes miniaturisés nous fournissent des indications intéressantes; l'intérieur de ces synagogues se composait de plusieurs pièces plus ou moins spacieuses, qui devaient être assez simples, sans séparations axiales, avec des plafonds à caissons, parfois décorées ou tout simplement enrichies d'étoffes tendues aux parois. Les meubles étaient constitués de bancs et les armoires sacrées qui contenaient les rouleaux de la Torà. Uaron d'une synagogue de Reggio Emilia remonte aux années 1465-66, comme le confirme une miniature d'un manuscrit conservé à la British Library de Londres (Ms Harley 5686 f. 28r): 8 cette armoire sacrée, plus ancienne que celle de Modena, présente une décoration tout à fait gothique, bien qu'un peu schématique, faite d'arcs légers sur le couronnement pyramidal et de moulures ornant les panneaux carrés de revêtement, selon le goût témoigné aussi par d'autres aronot contemporains de la même région, ainsi que par celui qui est illustré dans une miniature du Mah^or appartenant à la collection G. Weill de Jérusalem de 1460—70, comparable également à l'armoire sacrée la plus ancienne illustrée dans une image di Perugia de 1391 et à la magnifique armoire gothique de la synagogue peinte à Mantova en 1435, aux formes architectoniques plus complexes et aux décorations plus riches.9 Dans la seconde moitié du XVe siècle les solutions architecturales de style gothique persistent encore, comme dans l'armoire à deux corps, illustrée dans l'image d'une arche de Ferrara de 1470 environ. Quand Ferrara revint à l'Eglise en 1598, les Ducs d'Esté se déplacèrent à Modena; à cette date, de nombreux représentants de la communauté juive suivi-

5 6

7

8 9

Cf. Maugeri, V. "Arredi sinagogali e arte cerimoniale." Sur l'histoire des juifs de Modena cf. Balletti, A. 1930, 2 ed. Gli ebrei egli Estensi. Reggio Emilia (Réimpr. Bologna 1969); Ghelfi, C.-Baracchi, O . 1995. La Comunità Ebraica di Modena. Modena. Francesconi, F. 1996-97. Modena ebraica: argentieri e argent,i sinagogali nei secoli XV1U e XIX. Tesi di laurea in Storia dell'Arte Modena, Università di Bologna, chap. I I - I I I . Maugeri, V. "Arredi sinagogali e arte cerimoniale." Ibid.

rent les Ducs dans une ville où, d'ailleurs, habitaient déjà bon nombre de leurs confrères. A cette époque-là, les juifs de Modena vivaient concentrés dans quelques rues, dites "des juifs," telles que Via del Sole et Via dei Coltellini puis dans la Contrada della Cervetta dite "dei Sanguinetti" et Rua del Muro. Le spécialiste d'histoire locale Balletd affirme qu'il y avait alors trois synagogues: une rue San Giorgio, l'autre dans la maison d'Abram et Salvatore (pour laquelle des travaux de restauration se rendirent nécessaires en 1584) et une troisième qui se trouvait peut-être près de l'Eglise dei Servi. D'autres synagogues, peut-être des petites jeshivot, étaient gérées par les particuliers. Un plan de 1621 qui reproduit une partie de la ville de Modena montre une synagogue au début de rue Trivellari; il s'agit d'un oratoire fondé en 1607 par quelques juifs, parmi lesquels Agnolo Canaruti et Salvatore Camerini: "ad uso loro ed a pubblico benefizio di Ebrei poveri" (à leur usage et au bénéfice public des juifs pauvres). 10 E n 1638 le Duc François 1 e r d'Este décréta la création du ghetto de Modena dans la zone comprise entre les rues actuelles Emilia, Torre, Taglio et la ruelle Squallore: au bout des deux rues internes—appelées maintenant Blasia et Coltellini—donnant sur la rue Emilia, furent installées deux portes qui fermaient le ghetto du coucher du soleil à l'aube, l'isolant ainsi du reste de la ville. Par rapport au réseau routier actuel, le ghetto occupait un quadrilatère comprenant trois îlots dont les deux extérieurs existent encore, tandis que le central a été presque entièrement démoli en 1902 pour créer la place de la Liberté, appelée aujourd'hui place Mazzini." Le quartier juif se trouvait donc dans un secteur central du tissu urbain, car il donnait sur la via Emilia, la rue principale de la ville. Malgré la ségrégation dans le ghetto, les juifs de Modena purent maintenir un certain nombre de synagogues qui correspondaient aux différentes "communautés juives"; en effet, le Guide de Modène de Sossay de 1841 dénombre neuf lieux de culte dans le ghetto où les juifs célébraient leurs rites. La Scola Formiggini, remontant au X V I I e siècle, se trouvait rue dei Coltellini aux numéros 20 et 22 et donnait sur la petite place du ghetto, mais elle a été démolie à la suite des travaux urbanistiques entrepris dans la seconde moitié du XIXe siècle. L'extérieur de l'immeuble qui l'abritait donne encore aujourd'hui l'image d'un lieu de culte qui devait se confondre avec les autres édifices pour ne pas provoquer les remontrances de la censure catholique de la Contre-réforme, qui, à Modena aussi, était très puissante. Malgré cela en août 1642 le Duc François IV d'Este octroya aux juifs la permission de construire des synagogues et des édifices pour le culte. Quelques années plus tard, précisément en 1646, le gouvernement ducal octroya à la Compagnie de la Nation Allemande la possibilité d'établir sa synagogue dans une partie de la maison Nacmani proche de la petite place du ghetto. 10 11

Ghelfi, C.-Baracchi, O. La Comunità Ebraica. 25. Calabi, D. "Dal quartiere ebraico alla costituzione del ghetto in Italia: qualche documento reladvo al caso di Modena." Dans Le Comunità ebraicht di Modena e Carpi. Sous presse.

Au cours du X V I I I e siècle, la synagogue allemande fut appelée Synagogue des Levi et c'est avec ce nom qu'elle est citée dans les documents d'archives. 12 Entre la fin du X V I I I e siècle et le début du X I X e les documents attestent l'existence de la synagogue "Usiglio," qui se trouvait au troisième étage d'une maison située rue Blasia au numéro 3 et qui fut utilisée pour la célébration des rites jusqu'en 1898, quand le dernier descendant de la famille Usiglio confia les objets de culte à la communauté juive. Rappelons en outre que la communauté séfarade avait sa synagogue au 28, rue Coltellini, qui appartenait à la famille Fano. Autour de la moitié du XIXe siècle, suite au projet du nouveau et grandiose Temple de Modena, les synagogues et les petits oratoires privés furent transformés ou démolis. Le 19 décembre 1873 la Synagogue de Modena, réalisée d'après le projet de l'ingénieur Ludovico Maglietta, fut solennellement inaugurée. Dès 1861, c'est-àdire peu de temps après l'annexion des duchés d'Esté au règne du Piémont et l'ouverture successive du ghetto (1859), la Commission israélite avait décidé l'érection du nouveau Temple dans le cœur de l'ancien quartier juif, à l'extrémité sud de l'îlot compris entre les rues Coltellini et Blasio et la petite place qui les reliait. Cette synagogue ne devait pas seulement exprimer les valeurs religieuses, mais aussi témoigner du nouveau rôle de la communauté juive dans la société issue de l'unité italienne; ce devait donc être, dans la ville, une sorte de symbole célébrant l'établissement des libertés civiles et religieuses. Même l'aspect urbanistique du ghetto fut modifié en fonction du nouveau Temple, car cet édifice devait être un ornement pour toute la ville. Les Synagogues devant être orientées en direction de Jérusalem, c'est-à-dire vers l'est, la façade du nouveau Temple de Modena devait donner sur rue Coltellini: il fut décidé alors de démolir les arcades qui rendaient cette rue plutôt étroite. E n outre, toujours sur demande de la Commission préposée (demande datée du 3 novembre 1869), la solution architectonique de la façade avec colonnes et tympan fut reprise sur le côté sud; ceci était de grande importance urbanistique car, avec la création successive de la place d'en face (appelée actuellement place Mazzini et qui s'appelait alors "della Libertà"), la façade serait comprise dans le parcours visuel de la rue Emilia, juste en face de l'Hôtel de Ville et de l'accès— par la grande arcade—à la Piazza Grande, le cœur de la ville. La Synagogue de Modena rompait ainsi avec la tradition médiévale qui ne présentait aucun signe extérieur pour le lieu de culte. Un autre exemple presque contemporain était la Synagogue de Carpi, construite entre 1859 et 1861 d'après le projet d'Achille Sammarini, dont l'accès se trouvait rue Rovighi, anciennement rue "del Ghetto," caractérisée par une élégante façade néo-classique. La Synagogue de Reggio Emilia, inaugurée en 1858 et réalisée d'après les plans de Pietro Marchelli, présentait elle aussi un aspect néoclassique.

12

Pour toutes les documents d'archives, cf. Francesconi, F. Modena ebraica. Cap. III.

Erigée grâce aux largesses de Mosé Isacco Sacerdoti et à la participation de la Communauté juive qui, en 1861, comptait environ mille personnes, le Temple est l'une des expressions les plus importantes et complètes de la culture académique de Modena de la seconde moitié du X I X e siècle, caractérisée par le goût du "revival." Ce goût proposait des éléments des styles du passé considérés appropriés à la destination de l'immeuble, en les associant souvent les uns aux autres dans un style éclectique. L'extérieur du Temple, avec ses colonnes monumentales soutenant les tympans triangulaires qui coiffent les façades en briques et la grande tour-laterne qui renferme la coupole, rappelle le Panthéon; les grands chapiteaux sont eux aussi éclectiques, car le style classique est revu et enrichi d'une décoration en forme de palmes, une référence biblique évidente. A l'intérieur, dans la grande salle de prière rectangulaire, est inscrit le parcours ellipsoïdal d'une arcade de douze colonnes—faisant peut-être allusion aux douze tribus d'Israël—d'ordre géant avec chapiteaux ioniques, qui soutiennent la grande corniche servant de base pour la vaste coupole. La tribune se trouve dans la partie supérieure. Le motif dominant de cet édifice suggestif est représenté par l'arcade, avec la séquence variée de colonnes; bien que la structure presque circulaire rappelle encore une fois le Panthéon, la série d'arcs en plein cintre rappelle les temples byzantins, et confirme ce mélange éclectique de styles que l'on remarque aussi dans les synagogues de Vercelli (1878), de Florence (1882) et de Milan (1893). La coupole est décorée d'un ciel étoilé. Les pendentifs de la coupole sont peints à fresque à grisaille, de sorte à rappeler les stucs en relief, avec des motifs de la liturgie hébraïque: le candélabre à sept branches ou Menorah, le broc, la cithare de Miriam, la harpe du roi David. 13 Comme l'a souligné Pinkerfeld, 14 dans cette synagogue—construite dans les premières années de l'émancipation juive—on remarque des efforts évidents pour trouver des nouvelles formes d'expression dans l'architecture; il est naturel toutefois que les juifs manquent de points de repère, car c'est la première fois qu'ils ne doivent pas se dissimuler pour ne pas attirer les regards. E n tout cas, le premier pas a été, dans ce cas comme dans les autres synagogues italiennes construites à la même époque, de passer de la petite pièce à un vaste édifice complexe, dont la présence s'impose également au niveau urbanistique.

13

14

Ghelfi, C.-Baracchi, O. La Comunità Ebraica. 48 sqq.; Martineiii Braglia, G.-Marmiroli, I.-Stagi, F., Vandelli, V. 1997. La Sinagoga di Modena. Parma. Pinkerfeld, J. 1954. Batte kneset be-Italia. Yerusalayim, 48-49.

LATE SYNAGOGUES OF G R E E C E O R I G I N S AND ARCHITECTURE T H E RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN GREEK SYNAGOGUES AND MEDIEVAL SPANISH SYNAGOGUES T H E BIMAHX ELIAS V . MESSINAS ASSOCAIA, Israel

T h e study of Jewish architecture in Greece is a relatively new field, undertaken by the author since 1993. This study was initially based on the preliminary, mosdy historic research, that Nicholas Stavroulakis, former director of the Jewish Museum of Greece began in the 1980s. T h e architectural field surveys and documentation of the last surviving synagogues of Greece, by the author, has provided invaluable material for an in-depth study of the synagogue building in Greece and the area of the Balkans in general. Further, the submitted doctoral thesis by the author, on the synagogues of Greece and their relationship to their urban context and the Jewish quarter, offer new data on this field: the synagogues are not only studied in relationship to the Jewish quarter, but also in relationship to other countries, such as Spain, Turkey, and Italy. This study helps us draw initial conclusions on their typology, morphology and origins. This paper, on the occasion of the EAJS conference in Toledo, investigates the relationship between Greek synagogues and medieval Spanish synagogues, some of which were visited during the conference. T h e focus is on the location of the bimah. T h e Greek Jewish community, which can be considered perhaps the oldest in Europe, 2 consisted historically of Romaniot, Sepbardi and Ashkenazi congregadons. These congregations arrived at the geographical area of Greece at different times, the earliest being antiquity, when the Romaniot community of Ioannina is believed to have been established. 3 T h e largest wave of immigration though, took place after the 15 th century, with the arrival of tens of thousands of Iberian Jews in the Greek cities of the O t t o m a n Empire, the largest being Salonika. 4

1

2

3 4

The reader's platform, or βήμα (Greek). It is called teiva (Sephardi tradition) and bimah (Ashkenazi tradition). According to J. Nehama Jewish life in Thessaloniki starts at the time of Alexander the Great, in the 4 ,h century BCE. T h e synagogue of Thessaloniki, like the synagogues in Veroia, Philippi, Athens and Corinth, was the site where St. Paul the Aposde preached Christianity in the 1st century CE. Nehama, J. 1935. Histoire des Israelites de Salonique. Vol. 1. Thessaloniki: T h e Jewish Community of Thesssaloniki, 10 and Acts (16-18). Dalven, R. 1990. The Jews of Ioannina. Philadelphia: Cadmus Press, 3. Gerber, J. 1992. The Jews of Spain. New York: The Free Press, 146.

These immigrants established new communities throughout the Greek cities of the Ottoman Empire, and constructed synagogues. These synagogues undoubtedly brought traditions from medieval Spain to Greece. Although these early buildings have long been destroyed, 5 the traditions that they brought to Greece from the Iberian peninsula, most probably survived until the 19th century. We will briefly investigate these traditions, which have been identified in the 19th century synagogues in Greece, and how they relate to their medieval Spanish counterparts dating from before the 15th century. This investigation will focus on the location of the bimah inside the prayer hall. The bimah together with the ethal'‫ ׳‬is one of the two main interior furnishings of the Greek synagogue. The eihal takes the form of either a niche in the wall, or of a shallow room in which shelves hold the Torah scrolls. It is always built on the east or south-east wall of the synagogue, facing Jerusalem, according to halakhaP The eihal orients the prayer towards the Torah and towards Jerusalem. The bimah stands opposite the eihal. The location of the bimah affects the organization of the space in the Greek synagogue: it is around the bimah that seating, and consequendy, the interior lay-out of the prayer hall, is arranged. In the late synagogues of Greece, dating from the early 19th century and before, we have identified two types of interior arrangements involving the location of the bimah·.* 1. The Centrally Planed type (called in Greece Sephardi),9 where the bimah takes the form of a raised platform three steps higher above the floor, located in the center of the prayer hall. Examples of this type have been found in the island of

5

For the fires that destroyed most of the historic synagogues in the city of Salonika (Thessaloniki) during the second half of the 19,h century, please refer to Καραδήμου-Γερόλυμπου, A. 1997. Μεταξύ Ανατολής και Δύοης. Αθήνα: Τροχαλία. 117. Also in Benayahu, M. 1980. Relations between Greek and Italian Jewry. Tel-Aviv: The Diaspora Research Insdtute, and in Amarilio, A. S. 197178. " T h e Great Talmud Torah of Salonika." Se/unot 13, 273-308. Finally, on the fire in the Jewish quarter in Andrianople in 1846, in Yerolympos, A. 1993. "A contribution to the topography of 18,h century Andrianople." Balkan Studies 34, 58.

6

The Holy Ark. It is called eihal in the Sephardi tradition and aron ha-kodesh in the Ashkenazi tradition. Baal Turim 1965. Tur, Orach Haim. Vol I. Jerusalem: Machon Hatam Sofer, 127. We will not discuss in this paper the reform type found in Greece, which is direcdy influenced by the Reform synagogues of the mid-19 , h century Europe, as this is a type that has no historic ties to medieval Spain. It is rather a late type that developed by the emancipated European Jewish congregadons of the 19,h century. Examples of this type date from the late 19,h century (Beit Shaul synagogue, Salonika, 1898), throughout the early 20 ,h century (Xanthi synagogue, 1927, and Monasitrlis synagogue in Salonika, 1927) until well into the 20 lh century (Beit Shalom synagogue Athens, early 1940s). For the Reform synagogues, please refer to Wischnitzer, R. 1964. The Architecture of the European Synagogue. Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America.

7 8

9

According to R. Wischnitzer, the centrally planed type in Europe is generally associated with the Ashkenazi tradition, while the two-pole pattern, or bi-polar type, is associated with the Sephardi tradition. Therefore, the terms we are using here are only relevant for Greece, and d o not necessarily apply to other countries. Wischnitzer 1964: 44, 57.

Rhodes (Kahal Shalom, 16th century), 10 and Salonika, Macedonia region (Italian synagogue, 1896-1917). 11 2. The Bi-polar type (called in Greece Romaniot or Italian), 12 where the bimah takes the form of an elevated wooden balcony, about seven to ten steps above the floor, located against the west wall of the synagogue. Examples of this type have been found in the island of Corfu (Scuola Greca, 17lh century), 13 Ioannina, Epirus region (Kahal Kadosh Yashan, 1826),14 and Trikala, Thessaly region (Yavanim synagogue, late 19th century). 15 Below, we will attempt an invesdgadon of these two types, tracing their relationship to the synagogues of medieval Spain.

The Centrally Planed type (or Sephardi)

16

T h e central location of the bimah has its origins in the Talmud, 17 and specifically in the synagogue of Alexandria, in which a central wooden bimah enabled the masses of congregates to follow the ceremony. 18 This central location of the bimah, is later perpetuated in Spain by the medieval Talmud commentators: Maimonides, 19 Nahmanides, 2 0 Ibn Gaon, 21 and Tolosas. 22 Was this written tradidon generated by the Spanish commentators, also reflected on the architecture of the medieval Spanish synagogues? Unfortunately, no physical evidence of medieval synagogue interiors have survived in Spain. 23 O u r only source of visual 10 11

12

13 14

15 16

17

18

19

20 21

22 23

Stavroulakis, N.-DeVinney, N. 1992. Jewish Sites and Synagogues of Greece. Athens: Talos, 144. Molho M. 1991. Les Juifs de Salonique à la fin du X\ 'f siècle: synagogues and patronymes. ClermontFerrand: Centre de recherche sur le Judaisme en Salonique, 29. According to R. Wischnitzer, the two-pole pattern or bi-polar synagogue, is associated with the Sephardi synagogues of Italy, found in Venice from the 16,h century. Wischnitzer 1964: 57. Stavroulakis 1992: 55. According to a plaque on the western elevation of the synagogue. According to N . Stavroulakis the synagogue dates from 1829. Stavroulakis 1992: 102. According to R. Dalven, the synagogue dates from the Byzantine period. Dalven 1990: 71. Stavroulakis 1992: 190. This paper will only investigate the relationship between Greek synagogues and their medieval Spanish counterparts. At this m o m e n t , we will not investigate the relationship of Greek synagogues to the synagogues of Turkey and Italy. This relationship has been investigated by this author in other occasions. Babylonian Talmud (Sukka 51, b) According to Rabbi Yehudah in the Talmud, this "double colonnade" or "diplostoon" basilica had a wooden bimah in the center of the hall, so that all the congregation could hear the reading. According to A. Tcherikover the synagogue was destroyed during the widespread rebellion of Jews in the Roman Empire in 115-117 C.E. Tcherikover, A. 1997. "Alexandria—Ancient period." Encyclopedia Judaica ( C D - R O M edition). T h e wooden bimah has its origins in the Temple, and the wooden bimah constructed by Ezrah in the 5 ,h century B. C. E. Nehemia (8, 3—4). However, it is in the Talmud, that the specific location of the bimah in relationship to the prayer space, is discussed for the first time. Such as Mishneh Torah by Moses ben Maimon (1135-1204). Elon, M. 1997. "Codification of Law." Encyclopedia Judaica ( C D - R O M edidon). Rabbi Moses Ben N a h m a n (1194-1270). Ibid. Such as Migdal Οζ by Shem Τ ο ν b. Abraham ibn Gaon (end of 13lh century beginning of 14,K century). Ibid. Such as Maggid Mishneh by Vidal Y o m Τ ο ν of Tolosa (second half of the 14* century). Ibid. Spanish synagogues were subject to destruction or conversion into churches already since 1391, with the preaching and anti-Semidc acdvity of Vincent Ferrer and his mobs. Gerber 1992: 119-

information are two 24^0‫ש‬1‫ג‬1‫ךעבו‬3‫ ם‬and a painting 25 depicting interiors of medieval synagogues in Spain. These works, despite their lack of spatial sophistication, inform us quite unanimously about the location of the bimah·. in all three cases it is centrally located. 26 If we can rely on these art works, then we can assume that medieval Spanish synagogues had a central bimab, as established by the Talmud and as repeated by the Spanish commentators. This tradition, which was recorded in the illuminations and the painting, made its way to Greece, most probably with the immigration of the Iberian Jews to the Greek cities of the Ottoman Empire, during the 15th century and later. These communities organized into congregations in their new homelands, and established synagogues in the quarters in which they established themselves. Each congregation established a community named after its place of origin: Catalonia, Castilia, Aragon, etc., maintaining with the name, the rituals, language, and tradition it brought from Spain.27 In the center of these communities stood the synagogue, which acted not only as a religious and spiritual nucleus, but also as an administrative center for each community. 28 It is quite possible that the synagogue, around which developed the life of each closely knit community, also maintained the tradition of the Spanish synagogues that these communities abandoned up on their departure in August 1492. It may well be the same tradition we still find in Greece, in the later buildings, established during Ottoman times, as late as the 19th century. Examples of the central type have survived in northern Greece in Salonika, 29 Demotika 30 and Komotini," and at the island of Rhodes (16th century).32

24

25

26

27 28

29 30 31 32

120. The abandoned synagogues after the expulsion of 1492 will be converted into churches, as was the case of the Abulafia synagogue in Toledo (1356), which was granted to the Order of the Knights of Calatrava, and later to the Jesuit Order, which converted it into the church of "El Trânsito de Nuestra Senora." Ben Dov, M. 1989. The Synagogues in Spain. Tel-Aviv: Dvir Publishing House, 72. The 14,h century Sarajevo Hagaddah, and the 14lh century "Sister to the Golden Hagaddah" at the Briash Museum. Narkis, B. 1992. "The Heikhal. Bimah and Teiva in Sephardi Synagogues." Jewish Art 18, 36-7. The 15lh century Catalan paindng "Jesus among the doctors" (New York Metropolitan Museum). Wischnitzer 1964: 37. We wm not discuss at this moment the typology of the Spanish bimah, as depicted in the art works listed above, but rather focus on its central location. Gerber 1992: 118. Ναρ, Α. 1992. "Κείμενη επί ακτής θαλάσσης..." Θεσσαλονίκη: Έκφραση / University Studio Press, 79. Italian synagogue mentioned above. Based on the reconstrucdon by the author. Stavroulakis 1992: 126. The reconstructed wooden bimah of the Kahal Shalom in Rhodes stands today in the center of the prayer hall.

Bi-polar type (or Romaniot)^ The central type, as reviewed above, seems to have been the acceptable type, according to the Talmud, the Spanish commentators, and the interiors of medieval Spanish synagogues. Despite this prevalent tradition, though, there is evidence of a secondary tradition, the bi-polar, which seems to have evolved mosdy after the expulsion of the Jews from Spain, in the 15th century. This tradition, according to a reconstruction, 34 has also survived in one occasion in Spain. We will attempt to investigate briefly the origins of this type in Spain and how it relates to the synagogues of Greece. The synagogue in Cordoba, dating from 1315, although its interior furnishings have not survived, was most probably a bi-polar synagogue according to M. Ben Dov. 35 This argument is based on the synagogue lay-out, size and decoration. The existence of a bi-polar synagogue in medieval Spain, after having seen the strong tradition based on the Talmud and its commentaries, is truly intriguing; it also raises questions as to whether the bi-polar type was an accepted type, or an exception to the centralbimah rule. The answer to this question may be found in the writings of Yosef Caro, 36 author of Shulhan Aruch and the commentary on Maimonides, Kesef Mishnah. For the first time in Shulhan Aruch, the centrally located bimah is not requested, despite the preceding Talmud commentaries. In Kesef Mishnah, however, the issue of the central bimah is elaborated: according to Caro the central bimah was demanded in the past, such as the commentaries of Maimonides, when synagogues were larger, but in his time this tradition had changed: the location of the bimab depended on the space available, so that many synagogues placed the bimah against the western wall. Caro is suggesting two important ideas: a) that during his time, which coincides with the expulsion from Spain, the tradition of the interior organization of the synagogue was in a process of change, and b) there is a direct relationship between spatial limitations in the synagogue and the location of the bimah against the west wall. Indeed, it has been suggested in the past that freeing the center of the synagogue from the bimah makes better use of the limited space of small synagogues. 37 According to

33

34 35 36 37

In this paper we will discuss neither the relationship between the bi-polar Greek synagogues and the Italian synagogues of the 16lh century and later, nor the relationship of the Greek synagogues to those of southern France of the 14'h century. We will rather focus on the relationship of Greek synagogues to their medieval Spanish counterparts. These reladonships are investigated by the author in other occasions. For Italian synagogues please refer to Pinkerfeld, J. 1954. The Synagogues of Italy: their architectural development since the Renaissance. Jerusalem: Goldberg's Press. For the synagogues of south France, please refer to Krinsky, C. 1985. The Synagogues of Europe. Mineola: Dover Publications, 236-244. Ben D o v 1989: 126. Ibid. Yosef ben Efraim Caro (1488-1575). A similar solution was reached with the reform synagogues which moved the bimah to the east end of the prayer hall, near the eihal. Krinsky 1985: 23-4: Instead of the bimah taking up space in the center of the prayer hall, the center is freed up for more seating. In addidon, according to Krinsky, the opposite seating along the axis that connected the bimah and the eihal in the bi-polar synagogue, created a stronger sense of unity among the congregation, due to the visual contact across the room. Krinsky 1985: 22.

Caro and the bi-polar synagogue in Cordoba, the bi-polar type became popular, most probably, after the Expulsion, leading us to assume that the example in Cordoba was a not-so-widely-used type before the 15th century. T h e bi-polar type was disseminated outside the Iberian peninsula, after the 15th century, with the immigradon of the Jews, and the establishment of new communities, not so different from the dissemination of the central plan. It is quite possible that the early synagogues established in the area of Greece in the 15th century are the synagogues that Caro is describing: small in size,38 with the bimah placed against the west wall, due to space limitations. Although there are no surviving exampies of these early synagogues, two examples of bi-polar synagogues area known in Salonika and date from before the end of the 19th century: Catalan synagogue (unknown date-destroyed in 1890)39 and Talmud Torah Hagadol (1899destroyed in 1917).40 The existence of these late bi-polar synagogues may suggest the perpetuation of the tradition that was established in the 15th century, with ties, as suggested above, to Cordoba and the writings of Caro. Based on our present knowledge and the current state of research, it is quite possible that the origins of a group of synagogues found in Greece today, dating from the Ottoman period, have their origins in medieval Spain. This group, includes two types: the centrally located bimah, and the bi-polar plan. Both types have been recorded by Spanish commentators and examples survive in Spain, to allow us a preliminary comparison between these buildings and their Greek counterparts. It is most probably during the Expulsion of the Jews from Spain, during the 14th and 15lh centuries, that the medieval Spanish synagogue models were transplanted in Greece: they were brought by the numerous Sephardi immigrants that established congregations in the Greek cities of the Ottoman Empire. These early traditions seem to have survived until the 19th century in the Greek cities, such as Salonika. Further study of the Greek synagogues in the future, is bound to reveal more information on their history, architecture, and origins.

38

T h e small size of these early synagogues was probably due to the small n u m b e r of congregations, o r to the limited resources of the communities to establish larger buildings immediately after the expulsion f r o m Spain. As C. Krinsky mentions, the tendency of Jewish population to split into many smaller congregations, does n o t allow communities to build elaborate synagogues. Krinsky 1985: 18.

39

This synagogue was originally established in 1492 by Jews f r o m Catalunya and was later destroyed by fire. N a r 1992: 63. According to M. Molho, the immigrants that established this synagogue c a m e f r o m Barcelona and G e r o n a . M o l h o 1991: 25. A p h o t o g r a p h o f the ruins of the last building which was destroyed in the fire of 1890, are a m o n g the private p h o t o g r a p h i c collection o f A. and D . Recanati. According to this p h o t o g r a p h , the bimah of the synagogue was located against the western wall of the synagogue.

40

T a l m u d T o r a h Hagadol was originally established by a c o m m i t t e e of representatives of all the Jewish communities of Salonika in 1 5 2 0 / 4 0 . T h e synagogue was destroyed by fire several times, and finally reconstructed in 1899 b e f o r e being destroyed for the last time in the fire o f 1917. N a r 1992: 73 and Amarilio 1971-78: 276. According to the p h o t o g r a p h of the interior of the synagogue published by Hekimoglou, the elaborate marble bimah was located against the western wall of the synagogue. Χεκίμογλου, Ε. 1996. Θεοοαλονίκη-Τουρκοκρατία και Μεσοπόλεμος. Θεσσαλονίκη: Έκφραση, 72.

S0UTINE AND EL

GRECO

AVIGDOR W . G . POSÈQ T h e Hebrew University, Jerusalem, Israel

T o l e d o has a special position in Jewish cultural history. It is of course celebrated for its ancient synagogues which have few parallels in other Jewish communities, but Toledo also played a curiously important role in the m o d e r n revival of Jewish art, namely in the inspiration, which the artists who came to be known as the Ecole Juif de Paris drew from El Greco. Here I propose to discuss the debt owed to the great religious painter of Toledo by Chaim Soutine in particular. Although in Soutine's entire oeuvre, there is not one picture, with an overdy pious theme, critics tend to discern a spiritual content in his work, and have even called him a "saint of painting." T h e closest he came to a religious subject, were a series of pictures of a man in an attitude of prayer. Considering that m o d e r n painters seldom produce invocatory icons, and besides, that a secular Jew like Soudne was not very likely to paint images of this kind, the reverential m o d e of these portraits is thought-provoking. T h e biographical information transmitted by Soutine's friends and acquaintances, suggests nothing that might indicate a devout intention—rather the contrary. We know that Soutine received an O r t h o d o x Jewish education and was raised in the ancient injunction against the worship of images. Since at that time there were few important Jewish painters and Jewish art seemed to consist mainly of folkloristic synagogue decoration, his decision to become an artist, implied the rejection of his religious upbringing. As an art student he soon learned that many great works convey Chrisdan theological dogmas, but the surviving remnants of his own early indoctrination, were apparentiy strong enough to keep him from turning to the Chrisdan tradition for inspiration. Unlike some of his fellow artists Soutine never depicted Christological themes as scenes of contemporary Jewish life, or used Christian iconography as a prototype for Jewish topics. Because his thematic repertory consists mosdy of portraits, landscapes and prosaic still-lifes, one is led to suppose that whatever spiritual effect his paintings may have, arises f r o m their inherent pictorial qualities, not f r o m their topics. Unlike devotional icons which represent sacred p e r sonages, and depict their miraculous deeds in order to encourage moral c o n duct, Soutine's work had n o didactic purpose. T h e character of his works is therefore very different from that of religious imagery, where the subject matter is of major concern. If the paintings of the Man Prajing stimulate a spiritual reaction, it is not because of what they represents but because the manner of r e p resentation provokes an empathetic response. Few writers have sought to explain why Soutine's work has such an effect. It is immediately evident that, unlike artists w h o emulate the pious images of other periods or even imitate the idols of other cultures, he avoided themes of ritual-

istic significance. O n the other hand he did not share some modern artists' tendency to demean or mock sacred images. This may have been the result of his Jewish upbringing. Perhaps, because he was never required to venerate images, he felt no need to reject them. For him a picture was a picture, and not the thing it represented, and he extended this attitude, to include paintings with Christological themes. He could thus apparendy disregard the devotional purpose of the works of Old Masters, especially of Rembrandt, who was then considered a pre-eminendy religious painter. However, the Rembrandts by which Soutine was most deeply moved were an interior of a butcher shop with a slaughtered ox, a portrait of Hendrickje, Rembrandt's mistress, taking a bath, and the Jewish Bride, which shows a couple who may not be Jewish at all. Even if Soutine was misled by this tide, none of these pictures can be seen as a source of religious inspiration. As an alternative, some writers have argued that the spiritual appeal of Soutine's works could be explained by the powerful impact on him of the visionary paintings of El Greco. The transcendental character of El Greco's imagery, especially the scenes with abnormally elongated figures which seem to belong to an other-worldly realm are believed to have been influenced by the great contemporary mystics St. Teresa of Avila and St. J o h n of the Cross. However, the notion of a young Jewish artist emulating a painter who, though born an Orthodox Greek, worked almost exclusively in the service of the Counter-Reformation ideology of the Spanish Catholic Church, is difficult to admit, especially when one considers that El Greco was much less known at the beginning of this century, and certainly less esteemed than he is today. Nevertheless, his paintings attracted the attention of the anti-Semitic French sociologist Georges Sorel (1847—1922) who preached the need to stimulate the working class by spiritual ideologies and proposed a return to the Christian faith as a means towards social revolution. In his Reflections on Violence published in 1909, he advocated a proto-Fascist ideology condemning intellectualism and rational thinking as a corrupting Jewish influence. In El Greco he hailed an ardst who boldly exchanged the "science of art" for pure spirituality, and cited him as a sublime paradigm for a cultural revival, which would overcome pernicious Jewish influences and allow truly religious art to resume its spiritual leadership of society. Soutine is not likely to have read Sorel's writings. When he arrived in Paris in 1913 he knew little French, and later he would hardly have been interested in a proposed revival of Christian art. He may have gleaned the idea that El Greco was important, but rather than by the works he was probably first attracted to his reputation as being a mad non-conformist. The notion of El Greco's odd anatomic aberrations being the visible expression of an artistic freedom had a considerable attraction for some modern painters, who made figurai déformation a sign of their own rebellion against tradition. The earliest evidence of Soutine's interest in El Greco emerges in 1921 in the pictures of the Man Praying. The paintings differ in size and quality but all of them seem to represent the same model. Since Soutine had never treated a religious subject before, one may infer that in being impressed by El Greco's anatomical distortions he felt that they were related to a devotional content.

Starting with the very obvious gesture of Christian prayer he afterwards made it less explicit and eventually turned it into a meditative pose whose religious aspect is implied only by the description of the painting as "a man praying." H o w ever, in each case it is the old man w h o is supposed to be praying, while the artist observes him from the side, so that the experience implied in these pictures is not that of Soutine. At this point one may well ask what works by El Greco were accessible to Soutine. Public interest was stimulated in 1902 by the great retrospective exhibitions in Madrid and Barcelona, but even in Spain El Greco was still little known. The French writer Maurice Barrés who some years later visited Toledo to study the enigma of El Greco's personality, reports that the warden of a local church with a famous El Greco altarpiece told him that sometimes many months might pass without anybody coming to see the picture. Since Soutine never travelled to Spain his knowledge was necessarily limited to the works he could see in Paris. Bartolomeo Cossio, w h o published the first major monograph on El Greco, lists 44 pictures in Paris, but only four accessible to the general public. Later the German art historian August Mayer narrowed the number of autograph El Grecos, listing as accessible only two pictures in the Louvre: the Saint Louis King of France with a Young Page, and the Crucifixion with Two Donors. The large altarpiece was almost certainly the most impressive specimen of El Greco's work known to Soutine, and one may imagine, he had some private pleasure in being able to read the Hebrew text of the bilingual inscription affixed to the Cross, "Jesus the Nazarene King of the Jews." Both donor figures are fairly realistic, but the anatomical deformation of Christ's body suggests that it is to be seen as a mystic evocation of the Crucifixion, upon which the two patrons are meditating. Soutine might have considered the exaltation of the Cross as an alien ritual but it is possible that he adopted the reverential pose of one of the donors for his own Man Praying. However, this worshipper's body is much more elongated, and seems like an exaggeration of El Greco's style. The freedom with which Soutine treated the figure suggests that he must have looked at other examples of El Greco's work, as well. He was not likely to have consulted Cossio's monograph written in Spanish, but he may have studied the illustrations in Barrés' account of his investigation of El Greco's personality, which went into several editions, answering to the growing interest in the artist. Besides being a popular author Barrés was also a political activist in Action Français, an anti-Semitic nationalist group which a few years earlier had achieved a dubious notoriety in the Dreyfus Affair. The racist prejudice is also reflected in Barrés' writings: in describing the milieu in which El Greco worked, he calls attention to the "Semitic traits" which the people of Toledo owe to the mixture of Arab and Jewish blood in their veins, and describes the vestiges of "Semitic culture" in the Church of Cristo de la Luz, formerly a mosque, and in the synagogues which were turned into El Transite and Santa Maria la Bianca. Barrés says that together with Jewish blood and Jewish culture, the atmosphere of Toledo exuded Jewish mysticism. Addressing himself to the mystery of El Greco's pictorial style, he rejects the idea of a visionary artist w h o had lost the power of reason. He prefers a cultural explanation, noting that as a native of the island of

Crete, El Greco was a stranger who chose to live in the ]udería "in a necromancer's house" where he absorbed the spirit of the Kabbalah and this, and not mental derangement, was the true modvadon of his unique pictorial idiom. The theory of the Semitic influence appealed to other writers as well. Soutine's friend, Elie Faure, who criticized Barrés for having no understanding of El Greco's painting, agreed with him in tracing El Greco's roots in the "Semitic Orient." The Hebrew inscriptions on some of El Greco's paintings seemed to support the idea that he knew Hebrew, while his house in the ]udería invited a comparison with Rembrandt, who had Spanish Jews as neighbours. El Greco painted no Jewish subjects but some writers sought evidence of his connection with Jews in his portraits. A book published in 1914, describes a painting of a bearded man as the picture of a "Rabbi." Jewish ancestry could also be inferred for another sitter, whose name, de Leiva, inscribed on the portrait, could be construed as an indication of his belonging to the Levi family. The name of yet another patron, the Capitán Julian Romero de las Azanas, also inscribed on his portrait, was mis-spelled Hazanas, resembling the Hebrew word bayan—a synagogue cantor, often used as a family name. El Greco's self-portrait showing his dark almost Semitic features might easily support the hypothesis of his own mixed racial origins. The arbitrary notion of El Greco's alleged connection with Jews appealed to Soutine's fellow painters in the Paris group. Accustomed as they were by tradition to honour teachers, but having no Jewish Old Masters w h o m they could claim as their own, they adopted El Greco as one of their ideal ancestors. Soutine's interest might have been aroused by his friends arguing the problem of El Greco's style which, according to a then recendy published article was simply due to astigmatism, a "hypermetropic eye defect." The anatomical deformations are now ascribed to a cultural factor, or to be more precise, to the confluence of two separate pictorial traditions which shared an anti-realistic approach to the human figure. El Greco first learned to paint Byzantine icons, using patterns of representation known from the "Painter's Manual" of Mt. Athos. Later he moved to Venice and Rome where he was introduced to Mannerist elongated variations on classical human proportions. Eventually he setded in Spain, where he would have come to know the treatise on Diverse Commensuration for Sculpture and Architecture written by loan de Arphe y Villafane who illustrates abnormally distorted figures, presumably evolved from Diirer's diversified anthropometric typology. El Greco's frequent use of such arbitrary proportions in visionary imagery promulgated the popular notion that the exaggerated elongation of the figures was a manifestation of spirituality. Soutine probably hoped that by imitating the distortions, his works would acquire a similar emotional appeal. However, he disregarded the aesthetic conventions which converged into El Greco's style—for him the distortion of the human body was essentially an individualistic mode of representation, which he would reinvent in each painting. Soutine's association of figurai deformations with spirituality was probably motivated by a way of thinking diametrically opposed to that of those who proposed El Greco as a model for the auspicious revival of religious art. Since the

late 19th century many intellectuals felt that the Christian religion which for so long had employed art as a vehicle for its ideologies, should be replaced by a secular "religion of art." They argued that people accustomed to draw their moral sustenance from devotional images could satisfy their spiritual cravings by the worship of art itself. This notion would have appealed to Soutine w h o having freed himself from Jewish tradition was in urgent need of an alternate creed to sustain him in the trials of being a modern painter. Transferring his religious loyalty to art, he gave himself to it with the fervour of a mystic, the very act of painting becoming an ineffable experience which the paintings transmit to the beholder. Soutine's emotional attitude to his artistic vocation and the viewer's emphatic perception of his works has a remarkable affinity with the Hassidic concept of dvekuth (adhesion in Hebrew) according to which G o d is the supreme paradigm, w h o m a pious Jew is expected to identify. The experience which in other religions is described as unto mistica, implies the believers' virtual sharing of divinity, the ultimate goal of all mysticism. In Judaism the self-identification with God, is not limited to theosophists. According to the Torah the spiritual communion "You shall be whole hearted with the Lord your G o d " (Deut 18:13) also involves participation: "You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God, am holy" (Lev 19:2). The faithful's dvekuth is also upheld in the observance of the Sabbath in imitation of God's repose on the seventh day of Creation, but even in the daily prayers the devout is expected to seek jihud (i.e., togetherness) with his Maker. The emotional experience sought by the believers may be compared to that which creative individuals feel towards their art. For Soutine painting was a kind oijibud, and his figurai deformations entice the beholder to share his experience. Even when the topics are prosaic his mode of painting transmits a deeper sense of spirituality than many illustrations of mystic subjects. The apparent similarity between Soutine and El Greco is therefore misleading, not only because of the obvious difference of the thematic repertories, but also because their works stimulate different emotional reactions. Though both artists take liberties with the human form and Soutine's deformations were derived from El Greco, viewers standing in front of El Greco's compositions feel that they are spectators watching a transcendental occurrence, while in Soutine the arbitrary distortions induce an emotional participation. In contemplating his works one virtually shares his exalted experience of creativity. The paintings are secular but a viewer who has replaced conventional religion by the religion of art, may draw from them a kind of moral sustenance that formerly was restricted to spiritual exercises. Ironically this special kind of expressiveness of Soutine's work, was due to the anti-Semitic writers' mis-interpretation of ElGreco's cultural origins, which qualified him as a "Jewish Old Master." Because Soutine's enthusiasm was shared by other Jewish painters the art of El Greco had a formative influence on the evolution of modern Jewish art.

L'ESPACE, LES FORMES DESSINÉES PAR LA LETTRE, LE TEXTE DANS LES BIBLES HEBRAÏQUES ESPAGNOLES DU XLLF SIECLE SuZY S1TBON Vitry Sur Seine, France

L'écriture sur la page de parchemin nous est apparue comme un texte mais aussi comme un univers de formes, la construcdon d'un espace qui peut se lire comme un tableau. Les scribes ont fait preuve d'une recherche dans les formes d'une originalité étonnante par son dépouillement et par son épurement. Les particularités de cet art sont à mettre en regard avec celui des scribes latins et arabes. Nous avons cherché à situer ce travail qui utilise la graphie comme ornement dans son contexte, à dégager ses caractéristiques, la part d'influence des cultures présentes dans l'Espagne de cette époque, et ce qui serait lié à une tradition iconographique juive. Nous avons recherché une méthode pour la lecture de l'espace et des formes dessinées par l'écriture. Pour vérifier notre perception d'une configuration artistique du texte, nous avons transféré sur calque, pour quelques folios, les masses noires de l'écriture en éliminant le dessin des consonnes et en essayant de garder la hauteur des modules, les valeurs données par les encrages différents et l'utilisation de plumes différentes, ce qui nous a conforté dans notre vision d'un espace construit avec une recherche délibérée dans l'équilibre des noirs et des blancs et dans le rapport des formes entre elles. Pour analyser les formes que la mise en page du texte écrit fait émerger, nous avons élaboré une méthode. Il s'agit de décrire ce qui apparaît au regard avec le plus de sobriété possible, en se référant à des notions de formes, de masses colorées (noir et blanc), d'organisation de l'espace du folio ou de la double page quand cela était possible puisque c'est l'unité visuelle logique pour un codex du Moyen Age. La lecture visuelle de la structure de l'espace, démarche de type phénoménologique, est contrebalancée par l'appui historique concernant la bible considérée, le folio, sa position dans l'ouvrage, le contenu du texte, son sens et les prescriptions éventuelles concernant sa mise en forme. Notre grille de lecture prend en compte les données historiques, la mise en page, à la fois son organisation, les formes dessinées par les masses d'écriture et de blanc, les valeurs, la graphie, la hauteur des lettres, l'encadrement et la technique. Manquant d'indices sur la logique qui a présidé au choix de certaines figures souvent géométriques dessinées par la micrographie, nous avons compté les nombres d'unités qui se répétaient sur une même figure. La lettre et le nombre, le compte,

étant à la base du travail du scribe, nous avons tenté cette expérience. Cette grille a été testée. Par ailleurs, nous avons confronté la construction géométrique d'une figure (B.N. Ms. Hebr. 13 Fol 2r) telle que la trace un mathématicien d'aujourd'hui, au tracé de la figure à la pointe sèche repérable sur le parchemin. La figure étant complexe quant à sa construction avec une symétrie au centre, nous nous sommes demandés quelles étaient les connaissances du scribe du point de vue mathématique: avait-il un procédé empirique pour parvenir à ce résultat, ou un modèle? Les repentirs dans le tracé et l'absence de lignes de construction virtuelles font opter provisoirement pour un procédé empirique.

Lecture de l'espace et des formes à partir de la méthode mise au point Le travail a été réalisé à partir de quelques folios sur une bible: la première bible d'Ibn Merwas. Joseph Ibn Merwas est connu pour la réalisation de trois bibles à Tolède entre 1300 et 13341, une faible partie de sa production. La première bible d'Ibn Merwas date de 1300 et se trouve à Londres, BL, or. 2201. Les deux autrès font partie de la Sassoon Collection (Ms. 508 daté de 1307 et Ms. 1208 daté de 1334). Ibn Merwas n'utilise aucune représentation figurée dans son travail. P R E M I E R E BIBLE D ' I B N M E R W A S : B L , o r . 2 2 0 1 .

Type de manuscrit·. Bible. Parchemin. 368 feuillets. 240 X 210 mm. Écriture sépharade avec une encre noire ou légèrement brune. Origine du manuscrit·. Première Bible d'Ibn Merwas. BL, or. 2201. Tolède. 1300. FOLIO

338r. Grande massorah sous forme de page tapis.

Mise en page Organisation de la page: Une figure géométrique dessinée par des lettres micrographiées. Les formes dessinées par la masse d'écriture et de blanc: C'est une figure géométrique de six fois trois losanges. A l'intérieur de chaque losange s'inscrit un petit losange. Le pourtour de la figure donne à lire des demilosanges ouverts. L'ensemble s'inscrit parfaitement dans un rectangle non tracé. Si l'on considère la figure sur l'axe de la diagonale, le nombre de losanges de chaque côté de la diagonale se décompte ainsi: 1.1-2.2.-3.3-2.2-1.1. Le texte en micrographie sert de ligne pour le tracé d'une figure abstraite géométrique.

Narkiss, B. 1982. Hebrew Illuminated Manuscripts in the British Isles. A Catalogue Raisonné. Jerusalem and London: O x f o r d University Press, 20-23.

Les valeurs: La densité de l'encre ne semble pas uniforme pour l'écriture en micrographie. Les modules: hauteur des lettres: Les lettres sont toutes petites, un allongement des hampes des lamed est visible. Certaines lettres sont très étirées pour clore la figure. Critères pour la mise en page du texte: Il semble que le critère essentiel soit esthétique: aucun texte normatif ne prescrit que la massorah doit se présenter sous cette forme ornementale. Encadrement: C'est un double rectangle fait de lettres micrographiées. A l'intérieur de ce rectangle s'inscrit un texte en lettres de format "normal", avec un encrage plus fort. Le texte médian de l'encadrement amène le regard pour le suivre et le lire de droite à gauche, à parcourir les quatre angles de la page. Sur la ligne du haut et celle du bas, les lettres nous sont données à l'horizontale, à l'endroit et à l'envers; sur les lignes de droite et de gauche, elles sont à la verticale. Technique utilisée: Encre et micrographie. Pour le folio 338r, le texte de la grande massorah perd sa lisibilité immédiate, il devient un moyen de décoration du livre. Le texte massorétique est passé d'une fonction linguistique à une fonction ornementale. Une relation, une imbrication complexe entre le signe linguistique et l'ornement se met en place. Le déchiffrement, la lecture du texte, devient secondaire au profit de la lettre qui, elle-même, prime sur le phonique: ce n'est plus un texte à lire. Les formes abstraites des lettres dessinent des lignes, des surfaces, des figures géométriques. Ces lignes tracées par les lettres présentent une grande richesse dans le jeu de l'entremêlement du noir et du blanc, contrairement au tracé linéaire. La question se pose du mode d'entrée et de sortie pour la lecture du texte. Y a-t-il une ou deux, ou plusieurs entrées et sorties? Pour la lecture, y a-t-il discontinuité? La lecture du dessin redessine-t-elle à nouveau la figure tracée et dans quel sens? Quel est le sens du fléchage? La figure ouvre-t-elle à d'autres figures construites? Pour répondre à ces questions, il est nécessaire de flécher plusieurs de ces textes massorétiques devenus ornementaux. De toute façon, on perd la linéarité du texte, le regard n'a plus une fonction de déchiffrement d'un texte à lire, les automatismes développés pour la lecture deviennent inopérants, le regard est introduit dans l'univers des formes abstraites, la mise en page cesse d'être fonctionnelle, la lettre est à la fois signe linguistique et élément d'une figure géométrique abstraite.

De la même bible, nous avons testé notre méthode sur un autre folio. F O L I O 34V.

Premier chant de Moïse.

Mise en page Organisation de la page: Sur la page de parchemin, un rectangle assez proche du carré est donné par un encadrement. Au dessus du cadre, se détache un mot de quatre lettres très encrées, situé au milieu de la page. A l'intérieur de la frise se présente un texte dont la disposidon est la suivante: en haut, sur le premier quart du rectangle, nous avons cinq lignes d'écriture avec un intervalle régulier entre chacune. Après les cinq lignes, un blanc puis quinze lignes d'écriture; ces lignes, hormis la première, complète, présentent la particularité d'inscrire des blancs à intervalles réguliers. Les formes dessinées par la masse d'écriture et de blanc: Le texte, par sa disposition, divise l'espace en deux parties à l'intérieur du cadre: une masse de densité homogène formée par les cinq lignes d'écriture; une deuxième masse plus aérée où l'on repère trois colonnes. L'intervalle entre les lignes est double, compte tenu des blancs. Les surfaces délimitées par les blancs semblent de valeur égale. C'est une disposition en quinconce, mais la structure de cette deuxième partie est soulignée par les mots qui débutent ou ferment la ligne et qui rappellent les quinze lignes. Les valeurs: La différence de densité du noir est marquée entre le mot de quatre lettres situées en dehors du cadre (très foncées) et celles du texte à l'intérieur. La graphie semble différente, se pose le problème des étapes de la copie. Les modules: hauteur des lettres: La graphie du texte intérieur présente des hampes, élégants (hauteur des lamed), la lettre ne s'inscrit pas toujours dans le carré habituel (ampleur, allongement de certains samekb, reich, hé). Critères pour la mise en page du texte: La tradition scripturaire réserve un traitement particulier à la mise en page du cantique de la Mer Rouge. La même disposition du texte se trouve dans la Bible de Castille ou d'Aragon, 1280-1300, B.N. Ms. Hebr. 24. Encadrement: C'est un double rectangle tracé. A l'intérieur, une figure formée d'un losange dans un carré revient à intervalle régulier. Technique utilisée: Encre noire et brun clair. L'encadrement est peint. Le folio 34v combine la fonction linguistique et ornementale de l'écriture. Le regard peut être distrait ou séduit par les blancs qui circulent autour du texte qui scandent, rythment le chant de victoire de Moïse, mais le texte garde sa lisibilité.

Cette technique ornementale est en prise directe avec la structure de la page écrite, du texte.

Conclusion E n posant comme source originelle des formes dans l'art le sacré, le divin, nous avons relié la possibilité de création, d'émergence de formes dans le judaïsme, à la lettre, au texte sacré. L'univers de la lettre, du langage, sur le plan des formes et de la voix (le son, l'énoncé), son rapport à la divinité, son antériorité et son lien avec la création du monde, de l'espace, se retrouvent autant dans les textes normatifs que dans les commentaires mystiques ou non. La lettre est trace de formes dessinées par Dieu lui-même et elle a fait, de sa part selon le midrash l'objet d'ornements. C'est une langue formatrice qui préexiste à la création du monde et qui a servi d'outil à la création; les lettres, les mots créent, la langue recèle pour les mystiques le secret d'un code qui ne peut pas être atteint par le sens obvie. C'est un tissage de noms divins. La fonction sémantique de la langue est limitée, c'est sa fonction graphique qui prédomine. Abraham Ben Samuel Aboulafia, mystique espagnol du XIIIe siècle prône la déconstruction du langage pour retrouver les formes des lettres qui contiennent l'essence et la structure du monde et pour libérer l'esprit de ses entraves. La graphie des lettres est reliée directement à Dieu dans sa fonction de dessinateur, de graveur; cette conception, présente dans les textes normatifs, est reprise et amplifiée chez les mystiques. Le dessin, la forme, sont en relation avec les lettrès, l'alphabet, le texte divin; l'écriture du texte divin, son enluminure touchent au sacré. Le texte, la lettre sous forme de modules de taille "normale" ou micrographiée sont source d'ornement dans les bibles au Moyen Age, technique liée sans doute à une tradition orientale. La perfection atteinte par cette technique dans certaines bibles espagnoles interroge sur les scribes, massorètes e t / o u enlumineurs, sur leur métier, sur la transmission des règles techniques et des prescripdons religieuses quant à l'écriture des bibles. Une connaissance plus affinée des scribes, massorètes, en Espagne à travers leurs manuscrits permettra de saisir la part voulue consciente de leur recherche ornementale et celle véhiculée, malgré eux peut-être, par une culture et une tradition. Des scribes autres que Chem Τ ο ν Ibn G a o n participaient-ils à des cercles de kabbalistes? Les scribes et ou enlumineurs juifs semblent de par leur position (métier de tradition familiale, pas de hiérarchie ou de supervision de leur travail, responsabilité dans la transmission et la disposition des textes) avoir une autonomie plus grande dans la mise en forme des textes 2 et par là une possibilité de créativité, d'espace et de formes. La tentative d'analyser la page manuscrite comme un tableau s'est avérée opérationnelle. L'organisation de l'espace conçue par le scribe se révèle à travers les masses de noir (écriture) et de blanc (parchemin), leur équilibre, l'originalité de leur agencement, les différentes valeurs dues à l'intensité de l'encrage, au type d'outil utilisé (calame, plume d'oie), aux différents modules des lettres, et à Beit-Arie, M. 1992. Hebrew Manuscripts of East and West. Toward a comparative codicology. The Panizzi Lectures. The British Library, 79-103.

l'encadrement. La division de la surface ne naît pas du contour des choses ou de leur ombre; c'est le blanc, le vide autour des signes et des masses de signes qui crée l'espace, la profondeur. La lettre, l'écriture dans le judaïsme assurent une triple fonction dont l'ordre se décline différemment selon la loi écrite ou les commentaires mystiques ou pas, fonction scripturaire, linguistique, graphique. Ces formes, cet espace, créés par les masses d'écriture et de blanc ouvrent un champ dans la création artistique de la bible hébraïque médiévale.

ASPECTS OF EMANCIPATION D U T C H A R T AND T H E JEWS EDWARD VAN VOOLEN Jewish Historical Museum, Amsterdam, T h e Netherlands'

The early years of the twentieth century saw a lively debate over the definition of Jewish art. Its reverberations can be found in the pages of Ost und West, the Illustrierte Monatschrifi fur Modernes Judentum. From its founding, in Berlin in 1901, until its demise in 1921, German-speaking Jews were devoting regular and comprehensive attention to the "Jewish Cultural Renaissance." 2 The pages of this monthly magazine carried highly prominent, lavishly illustrated articles devoted to Jewish artists. These were not looking only at contemporary German and East-European artists; they were also discussing the masters of previous generations such as Camille Pissarro (1830-1903), Moritz Oppenheim (1800-1882) and one Dutchman: Jozef Israels (1824—1911). At the core of these articles was the attempt to determine the characteristics of Jewish art. Despite the sometimes caustic arguments and sardonic articles by philosopher Martin Buber (1878-1965), writer David Frischmann (1859-1922), and Rabbi Marcus Ehrenpreis of Sophia (1869-1951) in which terms as the Volksseele, the "miniature dramas of great suffering," and heroic Judaism—Muskeljudentum—were used, no conclusive definition arose, even after years of writing and debate. 3 Can the work of Jozef Israels now be deemed as Jewish because his Son of the Old People (1889)4 represents Golus, a symbol of the Jewish people in the Diaspora? 5 Or is it his use of muted, twilight tones that is typically Jewish? By the same reasoning, a number of Rembrandt's works qualify, in retrospect, as Jewish. And, indeed, these too were regularly reproduced in the pages of Ost und West. In his discussion of the Berlin exhibition of Jewish artists in 1907, one critic pointed out that a definition was impossible. 6 Of the eight works, with which Jozef Israels was well-represented at this exhibition, nothing Jewish in nature was to be seen in the subject matter; only fishers' scenes and farmhouse

1

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3 4

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A slightly different, expanded version of this paper was given in Amsterdam, at the Seventh International Symposium on the History and Culture of the Jews in the Netherlands (November, 1995) and published in Studia RosenthaHana 30,1, 1996, 109-117 Bertz, I. 1995. "Politischer Zionismus und Jüdische Renaissance in Berlin vor 1914." In Rürup, R. jüdische Geschichte in Berlin, Essays und Studien. Berlin, 149-180, esp 159-160, and Rosenfeld, G. D. 1994. "Defining 'Jewish Art' in O s t und West, 1901-1908. Α Study in the Nationalisation of Jewish Culture." Leo Baeck Institute Year Book 39, 83-110. Rosenfeld 1994: 95 ff. Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam, see exhibition catalogue De Haagse School (Den Haag 1983) 197, no. 41. T h e model for the painting, incidentally, was the art dealer Josef Staedel from T h e Hague. WeissBlok, R. 1989. "Jewish Elements in Jozef Israels' Art." Dutch Jewish Histoiy 2, 191-204, here 199. Rosenfeld 1994: 109.

interiors. Israels himself responded to the question of defining Jewish art with questions of his own: "Is there a difference between a Jewish sea and a nonJewish sea? What is a Jewish manner of painting?" 7 Even so, till today there continue to be attempts to draw a link between his famous painting "Growing Old" (1878), an interior showing an old woman before a hearth, with liturgy from the High Holidays, " D o not cast us off when we get old." Nevertheless, this interpretation by Rivka Weiss-Blok in her otherwise interesting article seems far-fetched to me. 8 Contemplative articles from the beginning of this century in Ost und West as well as in the Netherlands 9 correcdy show the connection between Israels and Rembrandt. Rembrandt was a well-attested inspiration to Israels and other masters of the Hague School. However, discussion of the Jewish character of Israels and other painters based only on "subdued colors" is poindess. What is significant in the articles in Ost und West is the "Heimholung" (reclaiming) of Israels by the Jews. In his own lifetime, he enjoyed royal interest (literally and figuratively) for his work. He was hailed as a "second Rembrandt," a role he was happy to accept. The painting Saul and David (Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam) painted in 1899 points more likely to Israel's Rembrandtesque aspirations than any supposed Zionistic loyalty. (Rembrandt's Saul and David was bought by the Mauritshuis in 1898.) Except for a menu design for the Eighth Zionist Congress in The Hague (July 20, 1907) and an utterance to Nahum Sokolow, "If I were younger I would have gone (i.e. to Palestine)," 10 there is little to substantiate a note in Herzl's diary, "When I visited him with Jacobus Kann in his studio, on October 1, 1898, he was at work on his painting Saul and David. I explained Zionism to him. He loved the thought of it."11 I am willing to accept that, but his work offers little to suggest any Zionist leanings. Israels' Jewish Wedding (1903, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam) is unquestionably Jewish though. Here, too, Rembrandt's influence is apparent in terms of colour use and theme, such as the painting known as The Jewish Bride. But, as we shall see, themes from Jewish life are not reserved for Jews. Right up to the present day, the works of Jewish artists in the Netherlands have been the subject of many a retrospective and filled with preconceived notions. By this I mean that the process of identifying artists as Jewish—and the attempt to define Jewish characteristics—traces back to the discussion of Jewish art and identity at the beginning of this century rather than from actual developments in the nineteenth century itself. Concerning the role of Jews in visual arts, the question even arises of whether 1796—the year of their emancipation—constituted a turning point. The classic and unquestionable examples of Jewish art in the traditional sense—

7 8 9

10 11

Conversation with N. Sokolov, quoted by Weiss-Blok 1989: 196-197. Ibid., 197. T h e painting is reproduced in De Haagse School', 193, n o 35. See, for instance, van Vriesland, V. E. 1914. " D e Kunstwart-debatten en de Joodsche K u n s t " In De Nieuwe Gids, 261-285, with thanks to J. M. J. Sicking for the reference. Quoted by Weiss-Blok 1989: 202-203 T. Herzl, Tagebücher, entry October 1, 1898.

prayer books 12 and objects for religious use such as mi^rachs—were illustrated by Jews, both before and after 1796. Such micrographie miyachs as made by Levi David van Gelder between 1840 and 1850 carry on a long tradition in which Hebrew script is used for decorative purposes. These objects were for religious use in the home. They befitted the framework of Hiddur Mitsvah—the beautification of religious objects—while at the same time serving as a status symbol. Common Jews had to make do with simply printed texts. Despite the fact that Jews could not join painters' guilds and, at best, could practice their craft at home, a great deal of interest in this art form developed. Archive studies show that, as early as the seventeenth century, the Jewish' social elite, consisting of a few Portuguese families, owned paintings of Old Testament scenes. A visual proof for this is the drawing Circumcision by Romeyn de Hooghe (1645-1708), with Elijah being fed by ravens and Elijah's vision in the background. 13 Owning paintings was a sign of status. In terms of taste and choice in their collections, there was little or no difference between Jews and non-Jews in the upper social classes.14 Similar to their non-Jewish social peers, they had portraits painted of themselves and, here too, there was money enough to bring in the most prominent portraitists. Portrait painters for the Suasso, De Pinto, Teixeira, and Da Costa families read like a Who's Who of the most desired artists and are a clear illustration of these families' priorities. The court painter Johannes Vollevens (1685-1758) painted the portrait of Rachel Teixeira (1696-1770) while many women from the Suasso, De Pinto, Teixeira, and Da Costa families were themselves praiseworthy portraitists of their own family members. 15 What had been the case for Sephardic Jews since the last quarter of the seventeenth century, and even more so in the eighteenth, also applied to the Ashkenazim from the beginning of the nineteenth century. One significant example is the portrait of the lawyer Jonas Daniel Meijer16 painted by Louis Moritz (1773-1850). Netje Asser, a granddaughter of Moses Salomon Asser (founder and president of Felix Libertate), had her portrait painted in 1831 by the then celebrated Jan Adam Kruseman (1804-1862). 17 Even though the rabbis had decided that the owners of these paintings could no longer be accused of idol-worship or, similarly, of violating the second commandment, these works do not qualify as Jewish art. However they do attest to the social emancipation of the Jews which was already under way. It was clearly unimportant to the Jewish patrons to in12

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T h e 1820/21 prayer book illuminated by Anthonie (Aaron) Binger is the continuadon of a genre of illustrated, handwritten liturgical works. These were often commissioned in the eighteenth century by Court Jews and, here, could be found in the bourgeois surroundings of an Amsterdam Jewish textile merchant. See Offenberg, A. K. et al. eds. 1994. bibtiotheca Rosentha/iana Treasures of Jewish Booklore. Amsterdam, 92-93. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, see Tümpel, C. ed. 1994. Im Uchte Rembrandts. Munich, cat. no. 108. Pastoor, G. M. C "Biblische Historienbilder im Goldenen Zeitalter im Privatbesitz." In Tümpel 1994: 122-133, and van Voolen, E. "Juden in Rembrandts Amsterdam." Ibid., 207-218, 211-212. Nachama, A. ed. 1991. Jüdische Lebensweiten Katalog. Frankfurt, cat. no. 1 5 / 4 1 - 1 5 / 6 2 (texts of I. Faber). Meijer was the first Jew to be admitted to the Bar immediately after the Civil Equality of the Jews in 1796. In 1815, he was made Secretary to the State Commission for the N e w Consdtudon. Painting in the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, see. Gans, M. H 1977. Memorbook. Baarn, 299. Private collection, see Gans 1977: 308.

elude Jewish attributes in their portraits. That was only for rabbis. The tradition of making rabbis' portraits, which goes back to the early seventeenth century (including one portrait of Menasse ben Israel in 1642 by the Jewish artist Salom Italia), 18 continued after 1795. T h e loss of prestige that rabbis suffered is apparent in the fact that, with the exception of a few small, anonymous panels, 19 their likenesses can only be found in prints and not in paintings. Despite an incidental protest by Haham Zvi Hirsch Aschkenazi who, in 1705, refused to have his portrait painted, 20 objections to the creation of graven images after both Josef K a r o and Moses Isserles stated in the Shulhan Arnkh (Yoreh Deah 141:70), " T h e portrayal of a head alone, or a body without a head (!) is not forbidden." The texts of epitaphs and epithets do however reflect the awe in which patrons held the rabbis. Even rabbis were not automatically depicted with a Hebrew book. In 1843, Hartog Josua Hertzveld (1781-1846) stood proudly for his portrait with his decoration of the Order of the Dutch Lion which he had received the year before. 21 Hertzveld was indeed seen as modernist. His proposals to increase the decorum of the synagogue services and to hold a meeting of chief rabbis met with considerable resistance from Hirsch Lehren and the Central Committee. 22 In the first half of the nineteenth century, Jewish painters—in the Netherlands and elsewhere in Europe—avoided Jewish subject matter. Though nostalgic, the work of the German painter Moritz Oppenheim, particularly his "Images of Jewish family Life," became intensely popular, certainly after they were reproduced in print in 1882.23 T h e series also appeared in Dutch in 1882 accompanied by a foreword by the Utrecht rabbi Jacob Hoofiën (1846-1886). However, while the number of Jews in Germany that counted themselves among the bourgeoisie was growing gradually in the nineteenth century and did develop an interest in the visual arts, the great majority of Jews in the Netherlands were either poor or very poor. Reforms within Jewry were waved aside or repressed entirely and there was litde or no consideration of social needs and aspirations. There was a virtually complete lack of an educated middle class, a Büdungs Jewry. This may explain the neglect of Jewish themes among both Jewish and non-Jewish painters. Even the nostalgic variety—by Oppenheim in Germany and, later, by Alphons Levy (1843-1918) in France or Isidor Kaufmann (1853-1921) in Vienna—never occurred here. Painters like David Bles (1821-1899) limited themselves to genre scenes which reached back, thematically and stylistically, to the seventeenth and eighteenth century, but which contained no Jewish subject matter. After the 19th century passed its halfway point, there arose an incidental interest in Jewish themes in the Netherlands, among both Jewish and non-Jewish paint-

18 19 20

21 22 23

Tümpel 1994: 210. See Belinfante, J. C. E. et al. eds. 1995. Jewish Historical Museum Guide. Zwolle, 78-79. Kochan, L. 1990. Jews, Idols and Messiahs. London, 140, with reference to the responsum of Jacob Emden. Gans 1977: 499. See ardcles by Frishman, J. and Erdsieck, I. In Studia Rosenthaliana 30,1, 1996. Cohen, R. 1995. "Nostalgia and Reform to the Ghetto." In Natter, G. T. ed. Isidor Kaufmann. Wien, 43-91.

ers. This was part of the popular interest in national history—including that of the Jews—and a romande interest in the surrounding reality. Johannes Bosboom (1817-1891), a non-Jewish painter from The Hague, made his name as a painter of church interiors which attests to his interest in the 17[h century, as was the case with so many of his contemporaries. His interior of the Esnoga must be viewed in this context. 24 The theme had previously been depicted by Emanuel de Witte, of whom Bosboom was an admirer. The tonal effects are clearly Rembrandtesque. The Portuguese and High-German synagogues can also be found among his work. The author Geertruida Toussaint, whom he married in 1851, had the idea of wridng a novel about the Sephardim based on a work of his from 1855. To this end, she sought the advice of Isaac da Costa, also from T h e Hague, who shared both her historical interest and her Reveil ideas.25 As with other painters of The Hague School, Bosboom surrounded himself with objects from the Dutch Golden Age. In a watercolour of his studio (1881), a Sephardic Sabbath lamp hangs prominendy from a ceiling beam. 26 This patriotic feeling was not only stimulated by church interiors and landscapes in thinlyveiled 17th century style. Historical paintings of heroic scenes from the EightyYears War were also popular. Dramatic events from Portuguese Jewish history— such as the excommunications of Uriel d A c o s t a and Spinoza—caught the imagination. This same interest can be found among Jewish historians and writers of that time. Maurits Leon (1838-1865), son of the advocate David Leon of The Hague and student of David Bles took part in this historical interest. In the lithograph by J. Renneveld, after a painting by Leon, "Spinoza Before His Judges," Spinoza is placed in a clearly Jewish context, with the Sephardic Sabbath lamp above the table in a 17th century interior. Christiaan Roosen saved this artist from oblivion. 27 His paintings clearly display an interest in Jewish themes on the part of Leon, who died at 28 years of age. Preparations for the Priesdy Service, exhibited in 1863 in The Hague, and which gained critical acclaim, inspired the Jewish writer Estella Hymans-Herzfeld (1837-1881) of The Hague to compose the poem "The Priesdy Blessing." In 1864, this was printed in Aurora together with a print of the painting. In 1881 the poem appeared again in an anthology of her poetry published by the brothers Belinfante. Herzfeld's family was one of a small circle of prominent Jewish families in The Hague which also included names such as Belinfante, Leon, and Israels. These people met at cultural societies in T h e Hague and were all related. 28 Herzfeld's poem draws a link between the priests of the Temple service and the service in a ghetto synagogue. The poet expresses her connection to Jewish history and the perseverance of religious Jews under oppression more strongly than that which she had interpreted from the painting alone. Another Jewish painter, Jacob Meyer de Haan (1852-1895) son of a wealthy matzah factory 24 25 26 27 28

Several versions are known. O n e is reproduced in Gans 1977: 398. Weytens, M. J. P. M 1971. Nathan en Sty lock in de Lage Landen, Groningen, 99-100. See De Haagse School 1983, cat. no. 20. Roosen, Chr. 1990-91. "Maurits Leon: T h e making of a Jewish A1úst." Jewish Art 16-17, 46-52. Wijnberg-Stroz, J. 1992. Een dichteres in de familie! Estella Hert^veld (1837-1881); een Nederlandse joodse vrouw als vroeg voorheeld van acculturatie. Leiden, doctoraalscripde.

owner, applied his interest in historical paintings to Jewish subject matter. De Haan's early "Portrait of a Woman" clearly shows the influence of 17th century portraitists such as Verspronck and the young Rembrandt. T h e subject appears to be a young Jewish woman. 29 His painting "A Difficult Passage in the Talmud" from 1880 is strongly anecdotal. 30 It seems to be poking fun at Jewish scholars whose influence on Jewish life continued to decrease throughout the 19th century. It is known that the painting was reproduced in print form, accompanying an article by H. Oort, a professor of Ancient Israelite Religion from Leiden. The article included a biting commentary; the subject of years of polemic between O o r t and the rabbis. T h e non-Jewish painter Jan Voerman (1857-1941) on the other hand did gain recognition for his genre pieces of Jewish subject matter in the very same years. His "Days of Mourning" (Jewish Historical Museum) from 1884 were highly praised by the critics. Jozef Israels' influence can be seen in the composition; in particular, in the posture of the mourning widow—a theme that had gained great popularity in aels "fishers" scenes. The reason for Voerman's predilection for Jewish subjects—besides "Days of Mourning" also " T h e Widow at the Rummage Shop" and "From the Jewish Quarter"—is unknown. After this period, he devoted himself to more Impressionistic landscapes and would go on to garner acclaim as a painter of IJssel River scenes. There is also a possible parallel with the literature of the time. Multatuli's novel Woutertje Pietersen (published as part of his Ideas between 1862 and 1877 and separately 1890) painted a positive picture of Amsterdam's Jewish quarter in which paid attention to the neighbourhood's picturesque aspects. Multatuli was more negative in his description of the Jewish religion. 31 Painters seem to have been interested in Jewry during this time, though only after a rather romanticised fashion. In contrast to Multatuli, poverty is absolutely not a point of interest for painters. Interest in the religion may have been romanticised, but it was not negative. T h e Jews were never the subject of caricature. Some preliminary conclusions can be drawn from these observations. It is worth pointing out that neither the poverty nor the refugees of the EastEuropean pogroms (arriving in Amsterdam starring in the 1880s) were ever the subject of the 19th century painters. With the exception of Voerman who came from a farmer's family, all of the painters—whether Jewish or non-Jewish— came from a middle-class background. Only with the arrival of Socialism (and in its wake, the Socialist painters) did poverty receive attendon; and within that, at least in the Netherlands, there was no specific interest in poverty among the Jews. Characteristic of Dutch art in the century following Jewish emancipation is the almost complete absence of Jewish themes. Discussions such as those in Ost und West about what Jewish art is, were not to be found here. In the nineteenth-century Dutch Jewish community itself, there was little or no interest in Jewish subject matter, whether religious ideology, science of Judaism, or art. In 29

30 31

Painting in the collection of the Jewish Historical Museum. See exhibition catalogue Vincint van Gogh and the Birth of Cloisonism. Amsterdam 1981, 346, ill. 144. G a n s 1977: 378-379. Weytens, M. J. P. M 1971. Nathan en S bylock in de Lage Landen. Groningen.

contrast to Germany, Austria-Hungary, or Russia, Jews of the Netherlands were not required to defend their emancipadon. So the need for a Jewish cultural renaissance which arose elsewhere was probably not necessary. Society's acceptance of the Jews was the central issue; not their social profile as Jews. From 1796 to 1940—and possibly right up to today—Jewish painters have been interested in equal opportunity as ardsts and in the acceptance of their work as art. This seems, with very few exceptions, to have been the case. As opposed to elsewhere in Europe, nothing stood in the way of their admittance to either of the great training institutes—the old Hague Academy of Visual Arts or the Royal Academy of Visual Arts founded in 1817 in Amsterdam. There is nothing to indicate that Jews were ever excluded from participation in official exhibitions or memberships; even from executive functions within artists' societies such as Arti et Amiticiae or St. Lucas. Jewish artists in the first four decades of this century were able to follow this path with great artistic success, and virtually without ever touching upon Jewish topics.

PART JEWISH

THREE

LITERATURE

JAFFA V S J E R U S A L E M O N THE MEANING OF THE SOCIAL-IDEOLOGICAL COMPOSITION OF TEMOL SHILSHOM (ONLY YESTERDAY) OR A G N O N PROPHESISES THE FUTURE OF THE ISRAELI SOCIETY BOAZ ARPALY Tel-Aviv University, Israel T h e description of Temol Shilshom (TS) as an ideological-social "geometric structure" that Jaffa and Jerusalem are its two contrasting poles, is well known and accepted in criticism. T h e centricity of Jaffa-Jerusalem polarity in the spatial and linear structure of TS is indeed indubitable, and the critics have well motivated it in several ways. Nevertheless, it seems to me that this organization of the novel is neither obvious nor self-explanatory and that perhaps nothing has been written on its central significance. T h e Jaffa—Jerusalem centricity in the novel seems problematic f r o m three aspects: the formation of the social world in itself, the historic background of the novel, and lasdy—the ideology of its implied author. F r o m the first aspect I would argue that the contrasting organization might be perceived—and in isoladon indeed it is—as oversimplified or superficial, since apparendy it imposes two ideological options both limited and somewhat extreme, on a world that otherwise Manifest itself as much more complex and heterogeneous. F r o m the second aspect, I would argue that in relation to the historical period represented in the novel as well as the period during which it was written and published, this organization, seems anachronistic. T h r o u g h o u t this entire period never had the orthodox community in the land of Israel (haYishuv haYashan) occupied a status that could justify its position as an ideological counter-balance to secular Zionism or non-ideological m o d e r n life in a city like Jaffa. F r o m the third aspect, I would argue that by setting this polarity in the seemingly socialideological center of the novel and lead his hero to choose, or to be torn between Jaffa and Jerusalem, Agnon in fact, distracts the reader's attention from what was to be, the ideological center of that world—the materialisation of Zionism in the Land of Israel. Both Jaffa and Jerusalem are conceived and presented in the novel as entities beside Zionist fulfilment or even—Jerusalem in particular—opposed to it. O u t of these three contradictory aspects that lead to the conclusion that the meaning of this organization of the novel is not realistic or historical but mainly symbolic and spiritual—I will focus my lecture on the third aspect—the contrast between the centrality of Jaffa and Jerusalem in the novel on the one hand and the ideology of the implied author within it, on the other. I will begin with a short survey of that ideology, then continue with a description of the presentation of the two towns in the novel, and in conclusion,

will propose, on the basis of these contrasts, the meaning of this presentation for the novel as a whole. My thesis is that by positing Jaffa and Jerusalem, which apparendy occupy a place outside the central Zionist activity, as central co-ordinates in the representation of the social space of the novel and as alternative lifestyles that the hero struggles between, Agnon points to contrasts or conflicts within Zionism itself— contrasts and conflicts whose significance reaches far beyond the historical background of the novel. Agnon's ideology, as the author of TS, can be described as "synthetic Zionism," a Zionism that aspires to combine both its secular-revolutionary aspects as well as its traditional-religious aspects. Deep appreciation of the active minority of Zionist, "our brothers in redemption"—the workmen who are conquerors of labour, and the setders who are conquerors of the land and builders of the country—who are for the most part secular—is a characteristic mark throughout the novel. Agnon presents them as a living example for the generations to come and all the immigrants who people the novel are measured and challenged by it. Significandy, throughout the novel Agnon reveals sympathy and empathy towards the agony of the setders, denouncing those w h o are held responsible for that agony. He even explicidy declares the historical rights the setders have jusdy earned and further validated through their ability to neglect their personal welfare in favour of the general interests of the nation and the land, and to act upon the Love of Israel and of Erez Israel even towards farmers w h o have caused them "great evil and disgrace" (TS, 60, 44—64).1 Yet he speaks more vigorously in praise of the "truelovers of the land," the people of Ein Ganim, "which is the first moshav for Hebrew workmen in Israel who acquired their place by their labour," "a living and faithful evidence of the possibility of our existence in Israel" (168-173). The "Love of the Country and the Love of Labour" are definitely the ideological focal points that govern the author and the novel. They serve as the criteria for the judgement of those who take the name of Zionism in vain, and the source of all guilt complexes, "our own fault that we came to work the land and didn't," filling the souls of those that could not fulfil or live up to their Zionist commitments. O n the other hand, the implied author of TS, without this fact ever affecting his personal support of Zionism, is a religious Jew, whose sympathy is naturally aimed towards righteous men w h o live by their faith. He is a Jew who does not and cannot accept the abandonment of the religious way of life and the abstinence from practising of the commandments. This view is implicit in many places in the novel and is presented explicidy in some of them. "We all seek the good," the narrator says of the pioneers of the second Aliya, "but the good we seek is not the true goodness. This needs explanation and I will try to explain," and from his words it is clear that the true good is practice of precepts and good deeds commanded by the Torah. The narrator explains how and why the new generation released itself from religious duties but maintains a view that this shift is faulty and its motivations idle (263-264). Agnon does not conceal his All the references are to Agnon, S. Y. 1979. TemotShilshom. Tel Aviv: Shocken Publishing House.

view that the attempts of "our friends" to rescue and adopt, out of the ruins of tradidon, its moral values (a "good heart and love of kindness or righteousness") on the one hand, and its emodonal-aesthedc features ("[religious] yearnings," Chassidic melodies, stories) on the other—is bound to fail. The feeling of holiness, "the light of heavenly grace" might fill the secular Jewish' heart, but they cannot exist for more than a short time without a posidve religious mode of life containing prayer, Torah learning and maintenance of its commandments (163 ff., 264 ff., 399, 590). Agnon's posidon in this matter is, to use Bialik's phrasing, that "Agada" is insubstandal without "Halacha." Agnon's tendency to combine these two posidons—the adoradon of secular Zionist implementation on the one hand and the clinging to faith and the religious life style on the other manifests itself also in his Zionist broadmindedness. Historically, he remembers that the rebuilding of the land of Israel in the new age did not commence with the Second Aliya and he continuously depicts the labour and suffering of the First Aliya‫׳‬, comparing the pioneers of the Second Aliya to their predecessors (45, 170, 192-193, 498-500). Alongside the detailed and concrete descripdon of the negative behavior of the farmers of the Moshavot towards the Hebrew workers of the Second Aliya, Agnon reminds us of their devotion and sacrifice for Zionism in the past. Without forgiving the "sins of Jerusalem" at the present of the narrative, he speaks in favour of the people of Jerusalem w h o built in the past the quarters outside the walls and expanded the Jewish setdement in the city and its outskirts. He even speaks (historically) in praise of the Haluqa, in contradiction to the attitude against it, of Zionist circles at that time (33, 198-200, 202-203, 237, 232, 381). Moreover, in spite of Agnon's obvious esteem towards the Halul^im, the active Zionists, who built the land, he does not abstain from discovering merits in workmen and craftsmen who live in the city as well as in men of property, bankers and professionals, who all participate, each in his own way, in building the country. His treatment of artists and craftsmen in Jerusalem and of workmen in Jaffa is generally positive (44, 88, 108, 218, 219, 259-261, 388-389, 4 2 7 441, 451^455). This broad viewpoint is foregrounded especially in the description of the establishment of Achuzat-Bayit, soon to become Tel Aviv. Agnon does not hesitate to apprehend the importance of the establishment of the first Hebrew city and of the urban activity in building and trade in general, as a fundamental layer in the whole of the Zionist enterprise. Moreover, even in the building of the most secular of cities—Tel-Aviv—Agnon discovers the hand of the creator, the eternal god (388, 437-441, 455 etc.). It seems that Agnon activates a very simple and general criterion of value, according to which he examines and judges ideas and deeds within the nationalideological dimension: everything that contributes to the growth, development and strengthening of Jewish life in the land of Israel is usually positive, whereas what harms or narrows it, is grasped as negative, no matter its ideological origin. Within this combined view, the "land of Israel" is the key concept: the first reason is the parallel place of importance it has both in religious tradition and in Zionist ideology. The second reason is that the land of Israel is the touchstone that distinguishes between "verbal" Zionists that remain abroad and those who

come to Zion in body, between real "faithfuls of the land" and others, w h o talk about it, but are occupied mosdy in the building of themselves. Agnon's attempt to combine the religious point of view on the land of Israel with the secular acts that fulfil it, is foregrounded especially in the description of the setders of Ein Ganim as a community of "hidden righteous persons," a description which combines traditional Jewish values with new Zionist ones. The Utopistic view of Zionism as a combination of religious precept and Zionist actions also sets itself forward in the author's treatment of some of the minor characters, w h o combine in their personal life both the Zionist and the religious dimensions (Menachem Haomed, Zerah Barnet, Malkov and others). And of course in the recurring connection between Yizchak K u m m e r and his greatgreat-grandfather, Rabbi Yudil Hassid and in many other matters. I hope that there is no need to emphasise now the contrast I have already noted, between the ideology described so far, and the powerful Jaffa-Jerusalem bipolarity that Agnon made so central to the structure of his novel. It is clear that this bipolarity serve first of all as a reminder that the harmonious combination of the traditional-religious and the secular-revolutionary in Zionism, that the author would have so much wanted to be realised, is nothing but a Utopia, a wish-of heart that might perhaps materialise in the life and thought of individuals, but is extremely problematic, perhaps even impossible, in the collective domain of the regenerating land of Israel. Let us now look schematically and briefly at this bipolarity. Jaffa of TS is a secular city, earthly, physical and erotic. A city of individuals, bearing no social or distinguishable class barriers. Life in this city, takes place entirely in the present and is constandy emerging. The town is full of newcomers, casual immigrants and converts, workers, politicians and writers, clerks and contractors, all mingling with each other and involved in each others' lives. Even though some of them regard themselves as laying the foundations for a new culture in the land of their fathers, one can easily conclude that this selfview is probably unreliable—Jaffa as we know, is built on sand. The city is full of beginnings, ambitions, fresh starts, and initiatives which contain, as expected, an amount of superficiality and ludicrousness, arrogance and an unjustified sense of self-importance. Many of the manifestations of life in the town are portrayed as false attempts to cover feelings of solitude and orphanhood that bother people w h o have severed themselves from their traditional homes and lifestyle but have not yet found new alternative for them (book one, chaps. 8, 9; book three, chaps. 5-9). Unlike Jaffa which is an heterogenic city, "Jerusalem" of TS is dualistic—an unsetded, unlinked combination of "high r o o f ' and "deep pit," of the celestial and the earthly. The Celestial Jerusalem does not exist in reality, only in the belief and aspirations of the religious people, as also in the nostalgia of secular people with a religious soul. It is sometimes revealed at night, when its "sweet darkness" covers the poverty, distress and filth of its real streets, or at dusk when the spectacular landscapes of sunset and the cool wind enable one to forget the hardships of the day. And also on Friday nights and Saturdays when the streets are empty and melodies of prayer and the study of Torah ascend from

the synagogues. The Celestial Jerusalem is a city with historical depth, a city of holiness and eternity which God's keeps his eyes forever on. Earthly Jerusalem in contrast is a threatening city, a city of rocky ground and dust, full of dirt and litter, carcasses of reptiles and animals are scattered all over its streets. A city of tombs, diseases, poor people, cripples and other deformed persons (189, 192, 202, 204, 206, 210, 222, 261-263, 267, 331, 326, 333-334, 347, 349-350, 3 9 6 397, 490, 510-511, 557-559). Its portrait in the novel is shaped for the most part, by the old orthodox community who conduct a life full of gossip, intrigues over the money of the Haluqa, bans and excommunicadons, pettiness and hypocrisy; a life that is governed by paralysed religious norms based apparendy on the Halacha and ruled by self appointed officials and fanatics w h o do for themselves under the guise of fighting in the name of the Torah for the holiness of Jerusalem (323, 325, 481^190, 511). The social and cultural world of the Jerusalem's othodox community (Mea Shearim) is represented by two of its leaders—Rabbi Feish, an extreme fanatic, a pursuer of power, who rules this world through excommunications and bans (311, 315-318, 394-395, 517-519), and Rabbi G r o n a m Yakum Purkan, the preacher, an extreme hypocrite, a specialist in religious demagogy (277, 304, 306, 307). Both of them embody in many ways and from different angels the moral deterioration and the stagnation of life in that world. There are among the orthodox in Jerusalem those w h o conduct a life of true faith and true love of Jerusalem, w h o sacrifice their personal convenience in earthly Jerusalem for celestial Jerusalem. Agnon does not ignore their personal traits but it is clear even to him that their ways do not and cannot set an exampie for the majority who cannot and would not pay the price these individuals are paying for ignoring the concrete dimensions necessary for existence in the earthly Jerusalem. By its landscapes and lifestyle, Jerusalem is depicted as a city covered with dust where each and every house resembles a pile of dust, as a city of manhatred fanaticism and pettiness. Jaffa, in a stark contrast, is depicted as city of pleasure, abundant with greeneries, shade providing trees and fruit trees . It is an oriental city of "houses dipped in orchards," surrounded by vineyards, not to mention its seashore that "rejoices the heart." Wherever you go, you find friends. In Jaffa even members of good homes do labour, and labour honours them—unlike Jerusalem where "labour is great so long as you do not smell its sweat." Even spiritually speaking, the comparison between Jaffa and Jerusalem does not implies that Gronam and his like are better than "our friends" in Jaffa. The wholeness of his "garb" (actions and lifestyle) is only extrinsic, and the dust, that covers its rags, this time in a symbolic meaning, goes to show that his clothes have been neither nurtured nor regenerated (560). The many partial contradictions between Jaffa and Jerusalem in TS can be summarised in more general and abstract way by the following principal contrasts: Life in Jaffa is free and reckless, lacking norms ,values, or frames of guidance, unclear in the cultural-spiritual sense, a life that turns towards the unknown future. Orthodox Jerusalem, in contrast to it, is looking always to the past, clinging to traditional frames of existence and to old fashioned institutions.

Its leaders using these institutions, often unintentionally, to suffocates life, and subjects it to dubious aims, at the same time distorting the essence of these frames and the goals for which they were established. (Jewish existence in the Holy Land) and also their soul (love of the land, of the people, and of the T o rah). Jaffa lacks clothes; Jerusalem's old clothes are ragged and dusty (83, 560). Or, to bring another parable from the novel: The "two-storied building" parable (542)—Jaffa is like a two storied building of which only the first is occupied (earthly life) while the second floor (spiritual meaning) is empty. Jerusalem, too, is like such a building, but while its first storey (earthly life) is ruined (or missing), its upper storey (Judaism, prayer, and faith) perhaps exists. Jaffa is full of life, though perhaps not the "correct" life according to the author. Orthodox Jerusalem relies on Torah's values, that are correct in the eyes of the author, but has no real life in it, no creativity, and no development. Secular Jaffa therefore stands a better chance for the future, though culturally shallow and spiritually anarchistic. Orthodox Jerusalem bears the mark of a clear spiritual identity, is captured in its "eternity," in a kind of social and national dead end, which embraces a potential for regression and constitutes a concrete danger to the renewal of Jewish life and culture. It would seem that in this phase of Agnon's creation, the tension between "life," ultimately identified with G o d as the "lifegiver," and between the values that bring meaning and order to them is ripped in favour of life itself. The parable of the two storeys hints just at that, since there is no possibility of maintaining a second floor without the first (In fact, this parable can be understood as a variant of one of the most ingrained ideas and images of traditional Zionism). The novel as a whole and especially the fate of Yitzhak Kumer, its principal hero who died in a narrow room in Mea Shearim, points also toward this implication. We may conclude now: The polar presentation of Jaffa and Jerusalem in TS, is meant to be conceived of, beyond its historical realistic features, primarily as carrying a fundamental-symbolic-spiritual significance. In this sense it points out the Utopian and problematic aspects in the combining of secular Zionism with religious tradition in the project of renewing the life of the Jewish nation in the land of Israel. By presenting these two contrasting abstract entities, Agnon seeks to exposes the principal conflict built within the overall enterprise of the return of the people of Israel to their country, a conflict existing in the inner portrait of the Zionist movement which leads this act, a conflict that reveal itself and becomes all the more intensified as time goes by. The conflict is between the secular energy of life, aimed towards renovation, sometimes revolutionary, of Jewish life, and the aspiration to conduct this new life as a Jewish life, bearing the mark of historic-traditional lifestyle. It is also this conflict that manifests itself through the tension between the secular Zionism which is threatened by the danger of cultural deterioration and loss of identity and Orthodox clinging to religious-traditional modes of life that may lead to fundamentalism and stagnation. It goes without saying that these conflicts are part and parcel of Zionism by virtue of its very nature, since Zionism is a movement of renaissance, i.e. a movement that combines a return to the past (traditional Judaism) and a revoludon that aims at a modern national life in the future. From this aspect, the set

of contrasts between Jaffa and Jerusalem in the novel, is not merely a set of contrasts between two complex geographic and social endues, but also a set of contrasts between two separate enddes—mosdy ideological—bearing a symbolic and principle position. Each city in the novel embodies within it in extremity, one of the poles in the immanent conflict which has accompanied Zionism from its beginnings, appears time and again in modern Judaism in general, and in the new Jewish existence in Israel in particular, ever since the novel was published. This conflict tears the social formation of the State of Israel to this very day.

NARRATION AND NATION ISRAELI LITERATURE IN FIFTY YEARS OF STATEHOOD RISA D O M B University of Cambridge, U K

T h e title of this paper owes something to H o m i Bhabha's book Nation and Narration, which suggests that to study the nadon through its narrative address does not merely draw attention to its language and rhetoric; it also attempts to alter the conceptual object itself. 1 In this paper I have tried to show that the study of imaginative literature, and in our case Israeli literature, is in many ways a profitable one for understanding the nation. I focused on prose writing because it was the novel that historically accompanied the rise of nations. It is important to remember that the rise of the m o d e r n nation-state in E u r o p e in the late 18 th and early 19 th centuries is inseparable from the forms and subjects of imaginative literature. 2 T h e political task of nationalism directed the course of Israeli literature into distinct national literature and, in turn, the literature participated in the formation of the nation. Israeli literature is part of a continuous literary corpus, called Modern H e b r e w literature, which extends beyond fixed geographical boundaries. Modern Hebrew literature emerged not in Israel but in E u r o p e over two hundred years ago, at the time when Jewish life began to emerge f r o m its seclusion and reach out towards Western culture. Along with E u r o p e a n Humanism, Modern H e b r e w literature shifted its vision from G o d to man and became secular, giving rise to the m o v e m e n t of Jewish Enlightenment (17811881). 3 This movement, which began in Prussia as 3 rationalist movement, had assumed a romantic-nationalistic aspect by the middle of the nineteenth century, as the major Jewish cultural centres shifted f r o m Western to Eastern Europe. T h e wave of pogroms that struck Russian Jewry in the 1880's undermined the possibility of the ideal of Jewish emancipation in E u r o p e and indirecdy initiated the Zionist movement. This brought about yet another geographical shift. T h e various waves of Jewish Immigrations finally moved the Hebrew cultural centre f r o m E u r o p e to the Holy Land, or Palestine as it was then called. Thus, it is only since 1948, with the establishment of the State of Israel, that Israeli, as opposed to H e b r e w or Jewish, literature came into being. T h e story of Israeli literature runs in parallel with that of the State of Israel, and both are identical with the story of Zionism. T h e Zionist dream, conceived in the darker days of European Jewish history, was fulfilled with the move of Jews, albeit in relatively small numbers, f r o m West to East: from an exilic 1 2 3

Bhabha, H. K. ed. 1990. Narration and Nation. U. K.: Roudedge. Btennan, T. "The National Longing for Form." In Narration and Nation, 48. See Halkin, S. 1974. Modern Hebrew Literature. From the Enlightenment to the Birth of the State of Israel: Trends and Values. N e w York: Schocken Books.

existence in Europe, to a more settled life in a homeland in the Holy Land, in Eretz Israel. Idealism and national aspirations in the context of unexpectedly harsh reality, are the hallmarks of Hebrew literature of that period of time, the period immediately preceding the establishment of the State of Israel. The Biblical Hebrew language, which was revived and adapted to become a living, spoken language, demonstrates a unique link between language and Jewish identity. In our own times, nationalism can be seen as the most significant new (or revived) factor of Jewish identity and the Hebrew language as its emblem. This link between language and national identity was expressed during the visit of the President of the State of Israel, Ezer Weitzman, to the German Bundestaag on the 16th of January 1996, in which he declared: W e have created a unique cultural miracle, we have resuscitated our language, our H e b r e w language.... W e and our language are alive. We, w h o have risen f r o m the ashes, and the language—which has been waiting in shrouds of T o r a h scrolls and in pages of prayer b o o k s — r e both alive. T h e language that was whispered only in synagogues, which was sung only in religious rituals, which was screamed in the gas c h a m b e r s — i n the "Shema Israel" prayer—has been resuscitated.... T h e s e two dead things that have been revived after so many years—the Jewish State and the H e b r e w language—are the very essence of our existence in this century. 4

The intimate link between the Hebrew language and the identity of the Jewish people is explored again and again in modern Hebrew literature. The arguments often assume ideological, as well as linguistic, dimensions. Quite often, a different ideology—for example, nationalism, or feminism, is crystallised in fictional texts through a discussion ostensibly about the Hebrew language. The debate about the role of the language in the revival of national ideology became a theme explored in and exemplified by many literary texts. 5 Answering questions such as how, and to what extent Hebrew literature should be bound to ideological dictates dominated many literary works. Writers shifted their interests from the earlier promotion of European Enlightenment to the reassessment of Jewish self-definition and to the propagation of Zionist nationalism. The question of the use of the Hebrew language thus extends beyond the specific debate over the language itself and assumes a wider, metaphorical dimension. It has become an all-encompassing debate about the idendty of the Jewish people: their roots, their religion and the way forward, not only in language but in every aspect of their being. The first generation of Hebrew writers, the so-called "1948 generation," who wrote direcdy after the establishment of the State of Israel was no longer dominated by immigrants, but mainly by native Hebrew speakers, or by Sabras,

4

5

Some historians today examine the negative cultural effects of a language being subverted by ideological motivations. Eli Shai for example, suggests that the price of linking Modern Hebrew, the Zionist Movement and the State was very high and caused "linguistic and intellectual brainwashing." Ma'ariv 18, 2, 1994. For the role of Hebrew in the process of cultural and national secularisation of Judaism see Schweid, E. 1995. The Idea ofJudaism as a Culture. Israel: Am Oved, 293-314.

the native-born Israelis. 6 They were consciously parochial and they, as well as their protagonists, shared a collective biography: members in a Zionist youth movement, life on a kibbutz, tilling the land, and in many cases ultimately sacrificing their life in a war defending their country. Their shared experience is well represented in their writings, but in addition to this, there is one particular theme which constandy preoccupied them, and that is the portrayal of the Arab in their writings. Ever since their very first meeting with the Arabs at the turn of the century, Hebrew writers to a greater or lesser extent strove to depict the Arab in their works. Initially, for obvious cultural reasons, they portrayed the Arabs f r o m a patronising, superior viewpoint and at the same time described a sentimentalised notion of friendly relations, even brotherhood. 7 With the establishment of the State of Israel, the writers addressed themselves to a consideration of the ethical problems arising from a state of war. 8 Remarkably, they gave a voice to the enemy. I know of no other parallel case in the history of contemporary literature. However, with the borders closed until June 1967, Israeli literature became a literature of siege. The Arab was no longer a concrete individual but an abstract, a symbol which was often associated with the sexual attraction of forbidden fruit, a nightmare which worried them and which they could not and did not wish to ignore. 9 T h e portrayal of the Arab changed once again with the trauma of the 1973 war. From that point the Arab was no longer an abstract idea, a threat, but a concrete man of flesh and blood. 10 Israeli writers continue today to re-evaluate their attitude to Arabs in the light of ever-changing social, political, economic and psychological conditions. After the realisation of the basic Zionist dream, the foundation of the State of Israel, and after the euphoria in the wake of independence, when the Zionist dream was institutionalised in statehood, the hitherto apparent cohesiveness of society began to be shaken. Israeli identity was no longer unified and monolithic. Up to 1967 only one voice was heard: Ashkenazi, male, socialist, secular and politically identified with the left. In their attempt to break away from this, some writers turned from the social realism of their predecessors to universalism and psychological archetypes. This phase did not last long, and it has been suggested that this stance "was not a rejection of ideology per se, but rather a challenge to and a critique of the particular norms, both aesthetic and ideological, of the previous generation." 11 As a result of disillusionment, the socalled " N e w Wave" 12 literature of the 1960s and 1970s expressed alienation from society and shifted its vision from the collective to the individual. The 6 7

8 9 10 11

12

For example A. Megged, Y. Mossenshon, M. Shamir, N . Shaham, S. Yizhar. Y. Burla, Y. Shami, M. Smilansky. For a detailed discussion on this subject see D o m b , R. 1982. The Arab in Hebrew Prose. 1911-1948. London: Vallentine Mitchell. Particularly Yizhar, S. 1970. Days of Ziklag. Israel: A m Oved. In particular A. O z and A. B. Yehoshua. As in Michael, S. 1985. Hasoot. Israel: A m Oved. Feldman, Y. "Back to Vienna: Zionism on the Literary Couch." In Vision confronts Reality, Historical Perspectives on Contemporary Jewish Agenda. Ed. R. Kozodoy, D . Sidorsky, and K. Sultanik. L o n d o n and Toronto: Herzl Press Publication, 311. This term was coined by Prof. G . Shaked of the Hebrew University.

early parochial approach and dissociadon of the Sabra generation of 1948 from European culture was revived again in this period, when writers turned once more towards Western literature, feeling that the actual geographical limits to their fictional world had restricted the imagination of their predecessors. This view coincided with the political and economic circumstances which enabled Israeli writers to travel abroad more easily. The renewed encounter with Europe triggered admiration and attraction as well as hostility and repulsion. Some protagonists escape to Europe and others from Europe, but in both cases Europe never serves as just a tourist's sightseeing spot abroad but as a world which stands in total contrast to Israel. It is much easier to ask fundamental questions about the nature of the whole Israeli enterprise when placing the fictional characters afar. Distance serves not so much the purpose of discovering the 'other,' as of examining the self.13 Modernism and Existentialism which dominated European literature (such as in the writings of Kafka, Camus, Becket, Ionesco) suited the mode of expression of these writers. They expressed ambivalence and irony and portrayed marginal, displaced, characters using the pathetic and tragic with the grotesque and parody. These writers reacted against their predecessors and strove away from regionality towards universalism and from reflecting the problems of the community to reflecting those of the individual. They also sought to free themselves from the influence of the Russian literary tradition. This had lain heavily upon Hebrew literature ever since its flourishing phase in Russia prior to its move to Eretz-Israel. However, Israeli writers nevertheless inherited the Russian tradition of their predecessors in regarding literature as a tool to promote national and social ideologies. 14 As Amos O z once commented: Israel is probably the only country in the world where an editorial in a major paper picks an argument with a fictitious character... Many non-Israeli writers may envy us for having such a historical tail wind as we write, but there is a high price to pay for this intense interest in literature: the writer is ascribed the role of prophet and is treated accordingly. 15

The experience of war had naturally been the main theme which occupied the literature of the first generation of Hebrew writers in the newly established Israel. Still feeling the responsibility to help shape their society, they glorified heroism and comradeship. During that period, women's writing, and particularly prose, was scarce. It has been suggested that women could not reflect any of these immediate Israeli preoccupations in their writing, as they were beyond their personal experience. Whether or not this was the case, their writing was peripheral to the central experience of the country. This has changed since the 1960s. The trend in Israeli fiction of the " N e w Wave" of giving marginal characters centre stage, as well as the exploration of themes other than the largely male-orientated national concerns, opened the 13

14 15

For an extended analysis of the subject see: D o m b , R. 1996. Home Thoughts From Abroad; Distant Visions of Israel in Contemporary Hebrew Fiction. London: Vallendne Mitchell. See A. Amir, H. Bartov, H. Gouri, M. Shamir, S. Yizhar, and others. In a recent interview with Clive Sinclair in The Sunday Times.

doors to an influx of women writers. 16 The change in the mainstream Israeli experience meant greater openness in literature, and a pluralism of voices emerged, incorporating those of women writers. As a result, women could, at last, abandon their traditional (non)place in Hebrew literature and assume their rightful role in its development. With the generation of the N e w Wave of the 1960's and 1970's, women's prose writing at last found its niche. 17 The relationship between ever-changing generations of writers is particularly interesting in the development of Israeli literature and is reflected in fictional writings. It has been suggested that the Zionist-modernist narrative reflects Oedipal rebellion: on the one side the protagonists are faithful to the Founderfathers generation, and on the other they are aware that this endangers their existence as individuals. 18 A criticism of the Founding fathers has often been expressed through the metaphor of the binding of Isaac. 19 More recendy, a new development on this issue was represented: the Founding fathers were no longer providing role models or a sense of security for children riveted with anxiety in decoding the adult world, fighting the shadows of that world, and worrying about whether they would be able to function sexually in the adult realm. 20 Interestingly, these near-universal worries of children and young adults the world over demonstrate that Israeli preoccupations were at last falling more into line with those of the wider world. The literature of the 1970s which witnessed the advent of voices which had not been heard before, expressed also the Holocaust experience. The prolonged silence on the Israeli literary scene in response to the Holocaust was broken as a result of the Eichman trial in 1961. This public event generated a tremendous response as it allowed survivors to testify, bringing to Israeli consciousness what they had experienced. It was then that Appelfeld began publishing his fiction about the Holocaust. Since that time his has been the most sustained and acclaimed treatment of the subject. The treatment of the Holocaust in Hebrew literature in prose, poetry and drama, continues to develop. The lengthening perspective of time gives Israeli writers, mainly the second and third generations of survivors, a new position. It has been noted that "the ageing and dwindling of survivors and witnesses means the Holocaust is changing from the active, painful personal experience of living people to a distant historical memory." 2 1 The poetic solutions which today's writers propose are the realistic depiction of the echoes of the Holocaust in current Israeli life, the new form of artistic-

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18 19 20 21

H. Bat-Shahar, O . Castel-Bloom, Y. Katzir, and S. Liebrecht are of the new generation of w o m e n novelists that have emerged in the last decade. B. G u r introduced the popular detective novel, making a conscious break from the seriousness which had dominated Modern Hebrew literature since its inception. For example A. Kahana-Carmon, N . Frankel, Sh. Har-Even, Y. Hendel, Sh. Lapid, and R. Almog. For a detailed analysis on this subject see the Introduction in D o m b , R. ed. 1996. New Women's Writingfrom Israel. London: Vallentine Mitchell. Early A. O z and A. B. Yehoshua. Particularly since H. Gouri's famous p o e m entided "Heritage." See Grossman, D . 1991. The Book of Intimate Grammar. Israel: Hakibbutz Hameuchad. See Holtzman, A. Spring/Fall 1992. Modern Hebrew Literature, 28.

documentary writing, and the post-modernist approach. 22 N o doubt future generations will continue to portray this historical event which has become part of the national collective memory. In 1977 the Likud party, led by Menahem Begin, came into power, with the large Sephardi constituency coming into its own. This was a turning point. It signalled even greater pluralism. Writers of "Oriental," or "Sephardi" origin began to express pride in their roots and reflect the societies to which they had belonged before their immigration to Israel. Several authors focussed on the oriental Jewish community in their different countries of origin. 23 In addition, through fictionalised autobiographical retrospectives, writers' ideological disorientation prompted a re-evaluation of their own social and political standing. 24 Having identified themselves as Israelis, they now became Israeli Jews. It has been suggested that as the secular Israeli Jew moves away from the original Zionist models, so the literature becomes increasingly contemplative and preoccupied with the problem of identity. Hebrew writing has come a long way from the myth of the New Jew in the early setdement, 25 to the undermining of the myth of the Sabra in the post modern and post Zionist Israeli literature of the late 80s and early 90s.26 The 1980s was probably the most prolific period in the development of the literature of the State of Israel, of prose in particular. The Lebanon War, at the beginning of the decade, and the war of the Intifada, at the end, aroused heated political controversies which in turn were reflected in contemporary literature. Many contemporary prose writers are once again exploring the past, in particular the life of the early setders. Israeli literature seemed to yearn towards the lost paradise of the early setdements rather than seeking to propose a new one. Utopia for them is the reality of the past, whereas the present is nothing but a great and ugly dystopia. But, as S. Yizhar suggested: perhaps there is n o Utopia in an open society, which succeeds in withstanding m o r e than three generations: the founders' generation that u n d e r t o o k a mission, the generation of the sons, which internalised but also began to show s o m e reservations, and the third generation, which n o longer saw itself committed to the original dreams, and which occasionally even chose to draw away not only f r o m the dreams but also f r o m the place of the dreamers. S o m e explain the decline of Utopia as a reaction to all the wars in which Isaac was

22

23 24 25

26

All three of these directions are incorporated in Grossman, D. 1986. See Under Love. Israel: Hakibbutz Hameuchad. Grossman's centrality and outstanding treatment of the subject is widely acknowledged. D. Benayah Serry, A. Swissa, S. Michael, E. Amir, R. Matalon. For example: H. Bartov, D. Shahar, Y. Ben-Ner, N. Alloni, B. Tammuz, Y. Kenaz. As, for example, in Tammuz, B. 1978. Requiem for Na'aman. Israel: Zmora, Bitan, Modan. Kaniuk, Y. 1982. The Last Jew. Israel: Hakibbutz Hameuchad. Megged, A. 1982. At Et^m Va'avanim. Israel: Hakibbutz Hameuchad, 1982. As in Linur, I. 1992. The Siren's Song. Israel: Zmora-Bitan. Kastel-Bloom, O. 1992. Dolly City. Israel: Zmora-Bitan. The Zionist project of the pioneering fathers is turned into a place of burial for Jews from the Diaspora in the novel by Shalev, M. 1989. A Russian Novel. Israel: Am Oved.

required to be sacrificed for Abraham's faith, war after war as historical landmarks branded like painful burns in every personal biography. 27

The writings of the 1980s are highly political, reacting directly to the political, ideological and social reality. Whereas this was unacceptable to the poetic consensus of the 1960s, the involvement of the authors and their works in the political arena during the 1970s and more so during the 1980s, was embraced and made aesthetically legitimate. Both the critics and the reading public accepted and expected this mode of writing. The change is particularly discernible in the characterisation of the protagonists. They are Israelis w h o struggle with specific Israeli problems rather than anonymous characters w h o struggle with universal existential problems. The literary scene in Israel has changed dramatically in the 1990s. Recent years have witnessed a new phenomenon: some books appeared in which the centre is not the Zionist narrative, but the Jewish community in Europe before and after the second World War. 28 This is reminiscent of S. Y. Agnon's earlier writing. The only Israeli writer to have received a Nobel Prize for literature, in 1966, Agnon portrayed mainly the lives of lost European Jewry rather than life in Eretz-Israel. An even more dramatic development is the appearance for the first time in Israeli writing of street language from young Israeli writers suspicious of 'literary language' with its allusions to the Bible, the Talmud and other traditional Jewish sources. There is also an abundance of short short-story collections written by 19 to 23 year-old writers, clearly aiming for young readers. 29 It seems that the Israeli book market is so hungry for new voices that major publishing houses are keen to accept even young and inexperienced writers. It has been noted that there are also several orthodox or ex-orthodox women writers. 30 Interestingly, most voices which come out of the religious society are female. 31 Orthodox women read more, so they can write freely, while the husbands, confined to the Yeshiva, have poor command of modern Hebrew, and in any case consider anything outside their Gemara studies as a waste of time. Despite the multitude of voices emanating from the generation of the 1980s and 1990s, the object of their confrontation is still more often than not the Zionist text. As one of Israel's authors reminds us: "Zionism is the only successful revolution of the twentieth century." 32 The Zionist text remains the one spiritual presence with which these writers interact, loading it with new meanings from the Israeli experience as they perceive and experience it. The main themes in many contemporary writings are Zionist and Sabra ideologies. Questioning and examining the two lead to another theme, which is the search for the self, particularly vis-a-vis Jewish identity. 27 28 29 30

31 32

From a lecture entitled "Utopia and Poetry." Delivered in Cambridge, March 1998. Y. H o f f m a n , Y. Bernstein, G. Avigdor-Rotem, and more. See for example Idan Rabi. This information, as well as the following remark was made by E. Negev in an unpublished paper delivered in Cambridge in April, 1998. H. Bat-Shahar, M. Magen. Shaham, N. 1996. Lev Tel Aviv. Israel: A m Oved, 379.

In conclusion, we have seen that the story of Israeli literature is the same as the story of the State of Israel. The different issues represented in literature and highlighted in this paper, exemplify the notion that "the study of contemporary fiction... is always a comment on the responsible practice interpreting the images today—how to place them, how to give them perspective, how to discuss the way they reflect a submerged history while turning it into a contemporary, instantaneous shadow" 3 3 —and then into narrative.

33

Brennan, T. 1990. "The National Longing for Form." In Nation and Narration, 67.

H A C I A UN NUEVO NOSOTROS ANÁLISIS DE LA POESÎA DE Y E H U D A A M I C H A I RAQUEL GARCÍA LOZANO Universidad Complutense, Madrid, Spain

Decir yo-tu también es hablar de una colectividad aunque n o de una comuniôn, de una fusion, escribiô Levinas en su libro El tiempoy el otroSin embargo, hablar de la poesîa de Yehuda Amichai frente a la de los miembros de la "Generaciôn del Palmach," es hablar inevitablemente del paso de una poesîa del " n o s o txos" a una poesîa del "yo." Si las palabras de Moshé Shamir al afirmar que cada autor "es especial, disdnto y diferente, a veces hasta el p u n t o de ser opuesto y contrario tanto a sus compafieros c o m o a la atmôsfera considerada general," 2 pueden aplicarse a cualquier generaciôn literaria, en el caso de la "Generaciôn del Palmach" y de la "Generaciôn del E s t a d o " son especialmente significativas, ya que se trata de dos corrientes literarias que, c o m o sefialara Natán Zach, se definen más por su mutua oposiciôn que por las caracterîsdcas comunes que definen a sus miembros. Y una de las caracterîsdcas fundamentales que diferencia a estas dos generaciones literarias es la expresiôn de la colecdvidad en las obras de los miembros de la "Generaciôn del Palmach," frente al individualismo que caracteriza las creaciones de los escritores de la "Generaciôn del Estado." Las obras de los anos cuarenta y principios de los cincuenta narran la biografîa colecdva de una generaciôn marcada por el "movimiento juvenil," el kibbutz y la Guerra de la Independencia; son obras donde se habla, c o m o dice H. Guri en su poema "1923-1958," "en-primera-persona-de-plural ‫נ״‬ A finales de los anos cincuenta, valores c o m o el trabajo, la lucha ο el sacrificio de los jôvenes soldados en aras de un futuro colectivo mejor, exaltados p o r esa literatura social y de marcado compromiso polîdco, comenzarân a tambalearse. Y será precisamente un miembro de esa generaciôn el que iniciará ese cambio interno en la literatura: Yehuda Amichai. Amichai pertenece cronolôgicamente a la "Generaciôn del Palmach," pero desde el p u n t o de vista literario es miembro de la "Generaciôn del E s t a d o " y, c o m o tal, se sépara de la poesîa social y polîdcamente comprometida con la ideologîa dominante durante los anos cuarenta en Palesdna, para adentrarse en el microcosmos privado del individuo que vive en la realidad del recién fundado Estado de Israel. E n su primer libro de poemas, Ahoray en otros dias, Amichai narra sus terribles experiencias en la guerra, experiencias que c o m p a r d ô con otros miembros

1 2 3

Lévinas, E. 1979. Le temps et l'autre. Paris, 89. Shaham, N., Shamir, M. y Guri, H. 1994. Dor ha-Palmach ba-sifrut u-ba-širab. Bat Yam, 13. Guri, H. 1963. Š0Íanat rubot. Tel Aviv, 94.

de la "Generation del Palmach," pero esas vivencias comunes, esos temas reçurrentes en la poesia de la época, adquieren formas nuevas. Sus poemas no exaltan ya al joven soldado que da su vida por la patria y que renacerá en forma de "rosas rojas," no hablan de una lucha comûn, de un futuro comûn, de un proyecto de vida comûn; tampoco olvidarân el terrible pasado reciente ni la cultura ancestral de su pueblo. El fin de la Guerra de la Independencia y la creation del Estado de Israel supuso también el fin de muchos suenos, significô la realization de aspiraciones que hasta entonces parecian inalcanzables. Pero, al mismo dempo, los poetas de la joven generation comenzaron a plantearse el senddo de la guerra, y sobre todo, el senrido del día después asentado sobre tanta muerte. El refugio del individuo en el "aqui y ahora," séria la reaction natural a todas esas conmociones colectivas. Este nuevo rumbo de la literatura hebrea, hizo que algunos cridcos literarios acusen a esta generation de nihilista, de ser una generation de poetas que olvidan los valores del pasado pero no crean otros nuevos y, por tanto, la ûnica solution del hombre será concentrarse alrededor de si mismo. Gershon Shaked 4 habla de un cambio de una sociedad de valores ascéticos y anti-materialistas a una sociedad materialista y hedonista que no compartia los viejos ideales de sacrificio personal por la esperanza de un futuro colectivo mejor. Por eso se califica a esta generation literaria de "individualista." Sin embargo, aunque el cambio de una literatura social a una literatura individualista puede apreciarse claramente en la poesia de Amichai, sus poemas, como muy bien ha destacado Boaz Arpali, están muy lejos de ser una exaltation del "yo," de tener una concepciôn subjerivista total de la realidad, ya que en ningûn momento se apartan del mundo sensorial, donde lo subjerivo-personal no dene cabida: Por una parte la mayoria de sus poemas son, por asi decir, una expresiôn del individuo, del "yo lirico," y de sus reacciones ante las situaciones concretas en que se encuentra, pero, por otra, están lejos de ser la expresiôn privadoesotérica de una personalidad ûnica [... ] Esta es una poesia "personal" que se contempla a si misma y al hombre que habla en ella con serenidad e ironia, c o m o a uno entre muchos y en eso está más cerca de la poesia "impersonal" que de la poesia que tiene c o m o protagonista al propio poeta. 5

Porque el "yo poético" de la poesia de Amichai, esa poesia que tantas veces se ha calificado de individualista y de la experiencia, solo adquiere sentido frente al "otro" al que está dirigida y con el que pretende establecer un diâlogo. Que el poema deje de hablar en tercera persona de plural no significa necesariamente que se adopte un estilo individualista. El "nosotros" de los poetas del la "Generation del Palmach" describe a una colectividad totalmente separada de aquel que no pertenece a ese mismo grupo. Como dice Gershon Shaked 6 refiriéndose a las obras en prosa, estos autores escriben libros semiôricos que el extranjero

4 5 6

Shaked, G. 1993. Ha-sifrut ha-'ikrit 1880-1980. IV. Tel Aviv, 98. Arpali, B. 1973. "Ha-'elegiah 'al ha-yeled se-'abad. Mafco' 1ê-širat Yehudah Amichai." Demut 55, 66. Shaked 1993: 28.

ο el miembro de otra generaciôn no puede comprender. Y asi lo expresô Natán Alterman en 1948, en su poema "Alrededor de la hoguera": 7 (Y qué podemos cantar sobre ellos? ,;Qué podemos cantar? Ellos lo hacen mejor que nosotros, ellos mismos se dedican poemas y han llegado incluso a publicar libros... Asi es la naturaleza del Palmach. N o deja ninguna labor para quicn "no es de los nuestros..."

El "yo poédco" de Amichai no habla tanto de un "yo" individual como de una nueva forma de entender el "nosotros" colectivo. Su poesîa se muestra como un diâlogo donde los disdntos "otros" ocupan un lugar fundamental a lo largo de su obra, haciéndose imprescindibles para comprender el lugar del "yo poético." La mujer, el padre y los companeros caîdos en el campo de batalla, son esos "otros" a partir de los cuales se establece el diâlogo. Aunque en principio los "otros" aparecen en sus poemas como recuerdos de algo que exisriô: la amada perdida, el padre muerto ο el companero caîdo en la batalla; "otros" que, por tanto, están separados del "yo," en la poesîa de Amichai se produce una relaciôn, un diâlogo con la mujer, el padre, los companeros muertos, y asi, el "otro" ausente se convierte en una presencia fundamental. De este modo la palabra poérica de Amichai, dirigida hacia esos "tu" se révéla como la "hebilla" de la que habla el poeta, la hebilla que une y sépara los dos lados. Esa hebilla que hace posible que dos extremos existan en armonîa, se unan y al mismo dempo sigan siendo enridades disdntas. E n un primer momento la mujer, como personificaciôn del amor, aparece ante nuestros ojos como un refugio, como la única posibilidad de escapar del mundo descompuesto que rodea al hablante. Es un momento de tranquilidad en el "aquî y ahora," en el breve instante de tregua entre el horror de la batalla que hubo y el mafiana siempre incierto. Sus poemas no nos hablan de un amor eterno que sobrepasa a los propios amantes, sino de un amor terrenal "aquî y ahora," de un amor al que inevitablemente sigue "la separaciôn como un asesinato a sangre frîa." 8 Es importante destacar que en la poesîa de Amichai se produce una inversion de los conceptos comûnmente aceptados. El amor no es eterno, porque eternidad es algo muerto y finito que está más alla de la vida del hombre. El amor, como parte fundamental de la vida, es algo fluente, cambiante que no deja senales, y los amantes deben experimentar un condnuo proceso de trans formaciôn. Sus poemas son un canto a un amor vivo que, por tanto, es siempre una ausencia. "Lo que nos entristece se queda con nosotros,/ dene nombre como las calles,/ solo las cosas alegres siguen adelante/ sin nombre," 9 dice el poeta. Por eso el amor eterno, el amor que permanece, se idendfica con "una 1ápida de amantes," 10 y la casa, el hogar, con una tumba. La separaciôn de los amantes que en principio apa-

7 8

9 10

Alterman, N. 1954. Ha-tur ba-iiki'i. Tel Aviv, 245-246. 'ahaknu kan ("Aqui nos amamos") 18. E n Amichai, Y. 1977‫״‬ί/π« 1948-1962. Jerusalén y Tel Aviv (8* ed. ampliada), 55. am jo Jet U-yad ha-halon ("Me siento junto a la ventana"). E n Amichai 1977: 72. li-dabber 'altinuyyim bayah li-dabbtr 'ahâbah ("Hablar de cambios era decir amor"). E n Amichai, Y. 1985 (4* ed.). Mt-'ahort ko!mistater 'okrgadol. Jerusalén y Tel Aviv, 95.

rece como una imposition de la guerra, del mundo exterior, se revela como la cualidad necesaria de la existencia del amor. Los poemas de amor de Amichai están dedicados, por tanto, a la "mujer de dônde, mujer de adônde." 11 La Separation de los amantes y la separation del "yo poético" del amor se va definiendo en los poemas escritos a finales de los anos 70 para mostrarse definidvamente en la poesia de los anos 80, en la que el "yo poédco" abandona la habitaciôn del amor para caminar ligero "por el largo pasillo que no dene fin," 12 para ser como el viento que atraviesa el valle "sin objetivo." 13 Asi, al igual que las flores cortadas adornan una casa, el amor cortado del hablante lo adorna con ese deseo banal y esa belleza efïmera que es la muestra tangible de su existencia. La poesia amorosa de Amichai, que en principio aparecia como la expresiôn de las relaciones entre el hablante y la mujer en el "aqui y ahora" que los salva del mundo exterior, se va trans formando. El "yo poérico" idendfica ese amor con una tumba de amor donde los amantes se diluyen uno en el otro. De esa tumba de amor debe arrancar su palabra para dirigirse hacia otro lugar y volver, transformada, embellecida y engrandecida, a ese amor, a esa mujer, a ese "aqui y ahora" que ya es todos los tiempos y todos los espacios, todas las mujeres y todos los hombres. E n un poema de su ûltimo libro,Abierto cerrado abierto, podemos leer lo siguiente:14 Nosotros seguimos rodando mâs alla de la Torà, más allà de la muerte de Moisés, a través de Reyes, Profetas y Escritos hasta Crônicas, hasta los hechos del amor y vuelta al Génesis, hasta la creaciôn de la luz y del mundo. Y Dios decia todos los dias, anochedô y amaneciô, pero nunca dijo atardecer. Porque el atardecer es solo de los que aman.

El atardecer, hibrido entre el dia y la noche, es el lugar de los que aman, de los que obligan a Dios a crear el mundo de nuevo cada dia, a separar los elementos; es el lugar del hombre sobre la tierra, es el "aqui y ahora" desde donde el poeta escribe: N o muy lejos de alli habia un gran huerto al que entramos, dos. Los dos. Y salimos de él siendo otros. Otro y otra juntos. Amado y amada juntos. Y me dije: la otredad es todo. La otredad es el amor. 15

Junto a versos como: Rut, Rut, Rut, la nina de la niiiez ahora es la représentante de la otredad la otredad es muerte, la muerte es otredad. 16

11 12 13 14

15

'eiet minayim ("Mujer de dônde"). E n Amichai 1977: 232. "76." E n Amichai, Y. 1977. Ha-^man. Jerusalén y Tel Aviv. (1977a) "70." E n Amichai 1977a. Tana/z, Tanak, 'itak, 'ita/s, ('Tanak, Tanak, conrigo, condgo") E n Amichai, Y. 1998. Patuah sagur patuah. Jerusalén y Tel Aviv, 28. tiyyulyišraeli. Ha-'aherut hi' ha-kol, ha-'aherut hi' 'ahāhah ("Excursion israeli. La otredad es todo, la otredad es amor"). E n Amichai 1998: 66.

El poeta puede decir "la otredad es el amor" y "la otredad es muerte," porque, como dice en este mismo libro que acaba de editarse: Quien escribiô "Fuerte como la muerte es el amor" solo al final comprendiô la comparaciôn que hizo y comprendiô y amô y muriô (lo real explotô con la imagen). 17

Pero los que aman pueden decir "eternamente viviremos," 18 es decir, muriendo viviremos, viviremos mas allà de nuestra propia vida, algo que pueden lograr, como diria Levinas "merced a la paternidad." 19 La figura del padre, présente en toda la poesia de Amichai, suele entenderse como el simbolo de la infancia, de la religion y del pasado perdidos del hablante. Desde mi punto de vista el padre y el "yo poético" no son figuras antagônicas, no representan dos mundos totalmente disdntos: uno dominado por la paz, la religion, la tranquilidad y la fe absoluta, y otro por la guerra y el laicismo, el horror y la pérdida de toda creencia. Y no pueden serlo porque en su poesia existe una gran analogia entre el "yo poético" padre y el padre del hablante. Esta analogia se aprecia con claridad a la luz de su relato "Las muertes de mi padre": 20 los dos son una cantera vacia de la que se han extraido las piedras para construir al hijo, los dos murieron en la guerra aunque siguieron con vida, uno en la Primera Guerra Mundial y el otro en la Guerra de la Independencia. Como ocurria al hablar de la mujer, el padre, el "otro," el "tu" creyente opuesto al "yo poédco" laico, se transforma en un "nosotros" unidos por un mismo desdno, por un mismo lenguaje surgido de la "genédca del dolor." 21 El "yo poédco" que durante cientos de poemas nos ha ido mostrando su edad, sus experiencias como "yo-hijo," como "yo-soldado," como "yo-amante" y "yopadre," nos habla en sus ûltimos poemas de la cercania de la muerte, de la proximidad al "yo-uno" con el que initio su camino. Esta poesia traspasa los limites del tiempo y el espacio pues a lo largo de los poemas el hablante 11egará, a través de una serie de excavaciones, a su nacimiento y a su muerte. La poesia de Amichai, desde el "aqui y ahora," riende un puente en dos direcciones: una hacia el origen del "yo poético" donde se encuentra su padre y otra hacia su fin, donde está su hijo. Ese "aqui y ahora" es el espacio y el riempo de la palabra poética que atraviesa los estratos del dolor petrificado. Sus poemas sobre el padre, sobre el ciclo de la vida, son como el agua que al filtrarse en la tierra toca todos sus estratos poniendo de manifiesto su existencia. El amor que vence a la muerte merced a la paternidad tiene su contrapunto en el amor de los jôvenes soldados caidos en el campo de batalla. Su muerte es doble, ya

16

17 18

19 20

21

Stmot iemot hmot ba-yamim ha-hem ba-^iman ba-^eb ("Nombres, nombres, nombres, nombres en aquellos dias, en aquel riempo"). E n Amichai 1998: 138. Tanak, Tanat, 'itat, 'itak, ("Tanak, Tanalj, condgo, contigo"). En Amichai 1998: 42. ta-'ad nihyeh ("Eternamente viviremos"). E n Amichai, Y. 1975. (3' ed.) Ά/sJSaw ba-ra'ai. Jerusalén y Tel Aviv, 68. Lévinas 1979: 85. mitot 'aki ("Las muertes de mi padre"). E n Amichai, Y. 1985. (2* ed.) ha-ruah ba-nora'ah ha-^ot. Jerusalén y Tel Aviv, 132-140. Une fin Yom-Kippur ("Dos poemas de Y o m Kippur"). En Amichai 1975: 161.

que la única muestra de su existencia es su nombre grabado en una 1ápida para recordarlos a ellos y para recordar su olvido. De su sangre derramada no brotardn rosas rojas, morivo comûn a la poesîa de guerra precedente, su sangre se secará en la ardiente arena del desierto. La vida surgirá de aquellos que no han dejado su nombre escrito, de aquellos a quienes no se recuerda, de aquellos que recuerdan, de aquellos que viven "en el àngulo recto entre el muerto y el que llora por él." 22 E n los poemas dedicados a los soldados caîdos en el campo de batalla vemos como un mismo desdno los aguarda a todos, a vivos y a muertos. Sin embargo algo los distingue: la posibilidad de vivir más allà de esa muerte, la posibilidad ser padres, de ser de nuevo "uno" y la posibilidad de que la palabra no permanezca reseca en la garganta. La palabra poética hace posible que el "yo lîrico" sea uno de los caîdos en "Ashdod, en la Guerra de la Independence," 2 3 y al mismo tiempo hable a sus hijos, e incluso a "los hijos de mis hijos que aún no han nacido." 24 El diâlogo, la palabra poética que está entre el "yo" y el "tu" créa un nuevo "nosotros" porque deja el espacio preciso para que ese "nosotros" exista. El nuevo "nosotros" no es una unidad homogénea sino un hîbrido, el resultado de la union de elementos opuestos que forma una nueva realidad. Amichai expresa ese nuevo "nosotros" mediante la palabra Benayim. Partiendo de la expresiôn il benayim del primer libro de Samuel que tiene el sentido de "soldado de infanteria que se enfrenta en un combate cuerpo a cuerpo con otro soldado enemigo," la lucha entre David y Goliat, y de su acepciôn en hebreo moderno com o "intermediario" y "persona confusa que duda entre dos opiniones," el benayim en la poesîa de Amichai es, por extension, el lugar en el espacio y en el tiempo donde tiene lugar un duelo a muerte y donde simultâneamente es posible la reconciliaciôn, es lo que he llamado "espacio entre," "lugar de en medio." En el benayim se establece un duelo entre el hombre y la mujer, entre el padre y el hijo, entre el vivo y el muerto, de ese duelo en el "espacio entre" nacerá una nueva realidad, al igual que en la batalla entre David y Goliat muere el joven pastor David y nace el rey David, ο en la lucha entre Jacob y el àngel muere Jacob para que nazca Israel. La reconciliaciôn entre los opuestos no se materializa con la supresiôn de los elementos binarios, sino con la creaciôn de un espacio entre ellos que permita la existencia de algo nuevo. El poeta dice: "soy un intermediario, un hombre hebilia,"25 porque ser poeta es ocupar el lugar de la palabra, de la palabra creadora, de la palabra que no sépara, como dijo Celan, "el no del si."26 Aduefiarse de la palabra, ser "un hombre benayini' es trazar un puente entre el Yo y el Tu, donde el Yo y el Tu mueran sin absorberse para que surja un nuevo "nosotros." Ser un "hombre benayini' es ocupar el lugar de la palabra "y dijo" con la que comienza la creaciôn del mundo, la "y" que no es ni union ni separaciôn, ni indiferenciaciôn ni distin22 2:5

24

25 26

bi-^auntyèiarah ("En àngulo recto"). En Amichai 1977: 153. me- aç ("Desde entonces"). En Amichai, Y. 1980. Salwah gldolah. Se 'elot u-tèšuj20t. Jerusalén-Tel Aviv, 9 ss. nlsi'ah ba-rakekel ("Viaje en tren"). E n Amichai, Y. 1985. (3' ed.) Me-'adam ,attah wi-'el 'adam taiuk. Jerusalén y Tel Aviv, 84. yei nerot ie-^pjsfHm ("Hay lamparillas que recuerdan"). E n Amichai 1980: 43. Celan, P. 1994. De umbra!en umbral. Madrid, 103.

ciôn, la "y" que no es ni el "tohu wa-bobtï' ni el mundo creado. Es ocupar el lugar de la palabra creadora, de la palabra poérica, del diâlogo. Amichai se aparta de ese "nosotros" que es una comuniôn, una fusion, pero su poesia autobiogrâfica adquiere un sentido colectivo porque, como diria Gadamer, "todos nosotros contamos en ella... todos somos contados por ella."27 Su poesia es una poesia de la "experiencia," porque toda poesia lo es, pero no se limita a narrar, a describir detalles de su vida cotidiana. Esta poesia llamada individualista, de la experiencia en el "aqui y ahora," sôlo se llena de contenido con el diâlogo entre el "yo" y el "otro," el "otro" que se concreta en su amada, su padre, su madré, sus companeros caidos en el campo de batalla y sus hijos. Es decir, un diâlogo en el présente con el pasado y el futuro, un diâlogo en el "aqui y ahora" con el "de donde" y el "adônde" con el "antes" y el "después." Porque esta poesia que habla desde el "aqui y ahora" es, en palabras de Amichai: el cierre del circulo de las cosas que antes no tenian hebilla 28

Esta misma idea se repite en el ultimo libro de Amichai Abierto cerrado abierto. E n el poema "Los dioses cambian, las oraciones permanecen eternamente" 2 9 dice: Soy un nudo imposible de deshacer, c o m o el n u d o que se hace en un panuelo para recordar algo. N o sé lo que debo recordar ni a quien recordarle que no olvide. Quizá deba recordarle a Dios que haga un m u n d o mejor. N o sé yo soy el nudo del panuelo. Eso es todo y esa es mi vida.

La palabra poédca es la hebilla, el nudo, que une todos los "aqui" y todos los "ahora," que hace posible que todos los tiempos y todos los espacios sean "aqui y ahora." Por eso en la poesia de Amichai siempre están présentes la amada ausente, el padre muerto, los companeros caidos en el campo de batalla, la pequena Rut quemada en un campo de exterminio y sus hijos y los hijos de sus hijos que aûn no han nacido. La palabra poética, el diâlogo, es el lugar que el hablante ofrece a las generaciones futuras que, como la palabra, son frutos dulces nacidos de una amarga semilia. Para esas nuevas generaciones es ahora el Benayim al que deberán dar sentido, esa direction que el poeta tratô de hallar, ese corazôn abierto donde su palabra pudiese germinar. A lo largo de su obra el "yo poético" nos ha ido dando las claves para comprender que la esperanza del hombre no consiste en refugiarse en el amor, en la infancia perdida ni en los jôvenes sacrificados por un futuro mejor. La esperanza del hombre es el diâlogo, la palabra que fluye entre el hombre y la mujer, entre el padre y el hijo, entre vivos y muertos, entre el cielo y la tierra.

27

28

29

Gadamer, H.-G. 1993. "Poema y diâlogo." E n Poema y diâlogo. Ensayos sobre Los poetas alemanes màs significativos del siglo XX. Barcelona, 153. Citado por Rosen, T. 1995. " K ë m o ba-širah sel Sëmu'el ha-Nagid. Ben Sèmu'el ha-Nagid lëYëhuda Amichai." Mebqart Yèrušalayim bi-sifrut 'ikrit, 15, 96. 'elim mithallifim, ha-tifillot rtiS'arot la-'ad ("Los dioses cambian, las oraciones permanecen eternamente"). E n Amichai 1998: 13.

El "aqui y ahora" de la poesîa de Amichai es la eternidad, la única eternidad del hombre, su vida sobre la tierra. Ese "aquî y ahora," esa eternidad, la vida del "yo poético" sobre la tierra, es la vida no vivida de Rut, el banco en recuerdo de un muerto en la guerra, refugio para el vivo, el "àngulo recto entre el muerto y el que llora por él," el espacio, el lugar vacîo con la forma del cuerpo del alumno caîdo en la batalla, esa granada que no le matô a él y quizá mato a otra persona, la mano de Rut tendida desde los muertos, su amada ausente y su padre muerto, unidos por la palabra poética a los vivos, a un nuevo amor, a su hijo y a los hijos de los hijos de sus hijos que aún no han nacido. El "ahora" de Amichai no es un refugio del "yo lirico" que huye de los valores del pasado y de un futuro incierto, pues el pasado y el futuro están siempre présentes en sus poemas. Pero el "yo poético" tampoco se réfugia en la nostalgia del pasado ni en la esperanza de un futuro mejor. Su poesîa es la hebilla, el nudo, que, sin olvidar el pasado y sin renunciar al futuro, narra la vida del "yo poético" en la tierra, su eternidad; una vida que solo se llena de sentido en relaciôn con ese pasado y ese futuro. La hebilla que cierra el cîrculo del tiempo, el "ahora," es la que confiere totalidad y perfecciôn a lo que antes estaba separado; es lo que convierte al "yo" y al "otro" en un "nosotros," un nosotros que no está unido por acontecimientos histôricos, sociales ο morales, sino por la "genética del dolor," por la interiorizaciôn del sufrimiento y por la contemplaciôn de la muerte. En el libro Abierto cerrado abierto dice Amichai: Y c o m o amamos en el bosque del recuerdo por los muertos del Holocausto, cuando solo nos acordâbamos de nosotros mismos desde la noche anterior. El bosque recordô por nosotros y nos dejô amar.

[....] Y el bosque del recuerdo donde amamos se quemô en un gran incendio pero nosotros seguimos viviendo y amando en recuerdo del bosque quemado y de los quemados que el bosque recordaba. 30

Ese "nosotros" indisoluble, unido en el "aquî y ahora" por la "genética del dolor," es el que canta la poesîa de Yehuda Amichai. Su palabra poética es esa palabra que, como dijo Paul Celan, quedaba, en medio de todo lo que hubo de perderse, "salvaguardada, a pesar de todo. Esa palabra que " h u b o entonces de atravesar su propia falta de respuestas, atravesar un terrible mutismo, atravesar las mil espesas tinieblas de un discurso homicida. Atravesô sin encontrar palabras para lo que sucedîa. Atravesô el lugar del Acontecimiento, lo atravesô y pudo regresar al dîa enriquecida por todo ello." 31 El concepto de Benayim puedo llevarnos a la conclusion de que el diâlogo, la palabra en movimiento, es el eje central de la poesîa de Amichai. Su poesîa es esa palabra que lucha por mantenerse en el escaso espacio intermedio donde nada tiene lugar y todo es posible.

30 31

fiyyullelill-'Emeq Rifa'im ("Excursion nocturna por Emek Refaim"). E n Amichai 1998: 84-85. Celan, P. 1995-96. "Discurso de Bremen." E n La rosa aibica 15/16, Barcelona, 49.

BETWEEN IDEOLOGY AND TRADITION BIBLICAL ARCHETYPES IN WOMEN'S POETRY IN ERETZ-ISRAEL GABRIELLA MOSCATI STEINDLER Istituto Universitario Orientale, Napoli, Italy

In the nineteen-twenries, three w o m e n writers moved from their cold and hostile countries of birth to the Promised Land. They had similar life stories and aspirations, and their work still appears surprisingly contemporary. These three w o m e n , to w h o m some prominent literary critics add a fourth, can be regarded as "founding mothers," as they were the initiators of a poetic current of great importance. Some of them, such as Rahel Bluvstein, known to posterity simply as "Rahel," still stimulate the imagination of intellectuals and poets. In his new book of poems, Patuah Sagur Patuah ("Open-Closed-Open"), 1 Yehuda Amichai dedicates a lyric to her. Its eloquent tide Ha devanm she-hajyu me-'olam ("Things that have always existed") is a paraphrase of one of Rahel's own poems, We-ulay 10 hajyu ha-devarim me'olam ("Maybe these things never existed"). "I want to sing," says Amichai, as he proceeds, with a vein of nostalgia, to evoke the generation of young pioneers come over f r o m Russia, whose aspiration was to till the soil. His description of them is vivid and imaginative: "I want to sing of the Russian shirts trimmed in colors of love and colors of death... Russian shirts looking like great butterflies, like angels" (Amichai: 59). In the third stanza, he makes his statement: after two generations of forgetfulness, this generation must remember. T h e memory of the involvement of these w o m e n poets in the m o v e m e n t of the " f o u n d i n g fathers" has led the writer Amalia Kahana C a r m o n to discover analogies with w o m e n prose writers of the Nineties: "A surprising new wave of w o m e n writers has recendy emerged on the literary scene. T h e fiction produced by this younger generation has met with far greater openness than was once accorded women's writings in Hebrew... Such was the case for the w o m e n poets in H e b r e w during the 1920s. Much the same circumstance may obtain again now." 2 It is hardly surprising that the poetry of these intrepid pioneers finds recognirion in this decade, which has seen the development of a strong feminist movement. It is certainly no coincidence that significant works of literary criticism by w o m e n scholars such as N a o m i Sokoloff, Anne Lapidus Lerner and

1 2

Amichai, Y. 1998. Patuah Sagur Patuah. Tel Aviv, Jerusalem: Schocken. Kahana-Carmon, A. 1992. The Songs of the Bats in Flight. In Gender and Text in Modern Hebrew and Yiddish Literature. Ed. N . B. Sokoloff, A. Lapidus Lerner, and A Norich. N e w York-Jerusalem: Jewish Theological Seminar of America, 244.

Anita Norich, just to mention some recently published books, 3 contain essays on these women poets. O n e should not forget Dan Miron, 4 who wrote a ponderous treause on the subject, in which he coins the epithet "founding mothers," and highlights the similarides between the works of Rahel Bluvstein, Yochevet Bat-Miriam, Elizabeta Zhirkova, called Elisheva and nicknamed "Ruth from the banks of the Volga," and Ester Raab, born in Petah Tiqwa. Aside from this stricdy feminist angle, what do these texts have to offer to the contemporary reader? Walter Benjamin claimed that every text contains a double perspective, a dichotomy, so to speak, between its "factual content" and "truth content." Thus, to relate to a text we must strive to perceive it against its historical background, to understand its genesis and connection to the real world. This is what Benjamin calls "factual content," i.e. the historical relationship of the text to the events of the writer's time. Only after the genesis of the text has been understood can the issue of its meaning for us today be raised. What makes a work still valid in the present is its "truth content." The latter is not apparent right away: it is revealed with time. 5 Thus, the poetics of the "founding mothers" should be examined first of all in the light of their involvement in the Zionist movement. They belonged to the Second and Third Aliyya, i.e. to that group of young intellectuals from Russia who left an enduring mark on the institutions of the newborn Jewish setdement of Palestine. As Ya'el Zerubavel stresses, 6 this group had a dichotomous perception of Jewish history: its antiquity was the golden age, while the age of the Exile was regarded as absolute negativity. In the infancy of their nation, the Jews had enjoyed great freedom and political autonomy, and had thus managed to give rise to a flourishing culture and original artistic expressions. These young pioneers identified strongly with that vision. They aspired to till the soil of their "fathers" to renew the bond interrupted by their long exile and, thus, reestablish the independence of their people and create a "spiritual center." This double perspective, of settling in a new land and shaking off a millenary yoke, stimulated an elaborate process of recuperation of traditional and intellectual values, whose purpose was to re-evoke the glorious past of the Jewish people through the figures of the heroes to w h o m it owed its fame and prestige. The Jews' link to the land was the Biblical text. Hence, poetical allusions to the Biblical story were meant to provide a moral and political legitimization of the return of the Jews to their homeland. Furthermore, as Ruth Kartun-Blum 7 righdy observes, the landscape itself reawakened memories of the historical events narrated in the sacred texts, which had taken place in that setting, and occasionally

3

4

5 6

7

Sokoloff, N . B., Lapidus Lerner, A. and Norich, A. eds. 1992. Gender and Text in Modern Hebrew and Yiddish Literature. N e w York-Jerusalem: Jewish Theological Seminar of America. Miron, D. 1991. Imahot meyasdot, ahyot horgot (Founding Mothers / Stepsisters). Tel Aviv: Hakibbutz Hameuhad. Bejamin, W. 1962. Angelus Novus. Torino: Einaudi. Zerubavel, Y. Recovered Roots. Collective Memory and the Making of Israeli National Tradition. Chicago & London: T h e University of Chicago Press, 1 7 - 23. Kartum-Blum, R. 1988. " 'Where does this wood in my hand come?': The binding of Isaac in Modern Hebrew Poetry." Prooftexts 8, 239.

even seemed to be re-enacted. These mythical stories became archetypes which writers reproposed in their works. The poetics of the "founding mothers" were characterized by wholesale acceptance of the ideals of the pioneers, on one hand, and great creativity, on the other. These young women's most important contribution to the artistic and literary development of the new nation was the introduction of a previously non-existent female poetic register, regarded with admiration and approval by universally acclaimed writers such as Hayyim Bialik. O f the group, it was especially Rahel and Yochevet Bat Miriam who drew on the Bible for their themes. These women poets' recuperation of the Biblical text, on one hand, and their often ambivalent attitude towards the Jewish faith on the other, call for a further historical reflection. As the sociologist Anita Shapira observes in her book Yebudim hadasbim Yebudimjesbanim,8 the pioneers of the Second and Third Aliyya had a problematic and conflictive relationship with Jewish religion and tradition. Ideologically speaking, as members of the workers' movement and the Socialist party, they denied the faith. This denial was also rooted in the Haska/a, the Jewish illuminist movement, whose influence was still felt among Russian Jews. Jewish illuminists attributed the backwardness of the Jewish people to their faith, and incited them to abandon it to become full members of Western society and the modern world. O n the other hand, these young people came from families where religious principles were stricdy observed. Indeed, many of them, including Yochevet Bat-Miriam herself, had studied in traditional Jewish schools. Nevertheless, they managed to reconcile these extremes by developing the notion of massoret tradition, i.e. an ensemble of customs and rules which had taken root through the centuries, whose function was to maintain the cohesion of the Jewish nation during the Diaspora. Thus, religious principles lost their transcendental value to become the "collective memory" of the people. The history of the nation was crystallized in the Biblical text. Even their feasts were based on the yearly farming calendar, and thus stressed the renewed relationship of the people with the soil.9 Rahel's work and life followed this ideological trend. The child of a well-todo family, she was born in 1890 in the northern town of Saratov, on the banks of the Volga. She began to write poetry at a very young age, although in Russian. She emigrated to Palestine in 1909, and setded in a farming colony on the banks of the Sea of Tiberias, where she worked as a land laborer. T o increase her competence in this field, she went to study agrarian sciences in Toulouse in 1913. The outbreak of World War I forced her to stay in Europe. She went to Russia to help refugee children, where she contracted tuberculosis. Later on, she returned to Palestine, settling in Degania, an important agricultural center on the banks of the Sea of Tiberias, where she died in a sanitarium near Tel Aviv in 1931. Rahel created original and innovative poetry by skillfully adapting Hebrew, her new linguistic instrument, to the poetic forms she had learned in her youth. 8 9

Shapira, A. Yebudim hadasbim Yehudimycshanim (Old Jews New Jews). Tel Aviv: A m Oved. Ibid., 248-275.

Thus, the influence of Russian symbolism, notably of Blok, Achmatova and Yesenin, can be spied in her often nostalgic and melancholy verses; at the same time, her work reveals an increasing awareness of her Judaic heritage. The exaldng of the landscape of the Sea of Tiberias gives a poedc consecradon to the young pioneer's discovery of her new country. The fictional characters animating her poems reflect the expressive codes of the newborn Hebrew literature, which I have referred to above. Her heroes are more integral to her own environment than to the holiness of the Biblical text. The lyric Kabel, which I shall quote in Robert Friend's English translation, 10 provides a clear example of this dichotomy: Kabel Rahel, Mothers of mothers, w h o shepherded Laban's sheep. It is her blood that flows in my blood, her voice that sings in me. Therefore is my house narrow and the city strange, because her scarf once fluttered in the desert wind. Therefore do I make my way unswervingly because my feet remember her path of then, of then.

The third verse, "it is her blood that flows in my blood," explicidy states Rahel's wish to rediscover, on a personal and emotional plane, the figure of the matriarch. The shepherd girl is far removed from her Biblical archetype, being rather an embodiment of Rahel's own romantic vision of the ancient Near East. In the following verses, the first person alternates with the third, creating an intriguing ambiguity by which the Biblical heroine merges with the femininity of Rahel herself. Through this artifice, the author draws a parallel between herself and her Biblical namesake, and between the cultural environment of the latter and her own. In doing so, however, she transcends the religious implications of the Biblical text. The parallel between the two women is stressed by the verse "Therefore is my house narrow / and the city strange," which echoes contemporary Zionist ideology and the choice of life of the author herself. The evocadon of ancient times concludes the poem and makes its intention clear. The mythical figure of Rachel takes on a symbolic function as an embodiment of the ideals of the newborn Jewish culture in its rediscovered homeland. Another poem, dedicated to the tragic female figure of Micol, the daughter of king Saul and wife of David, focuses on the theme of her ambiguous feelings for her father's rival, whom she loves but, at the same time, despises as a monarch. David "leaping and dancing before the Lord" when the Ark of God enters 10

Friend, R. 1995 (transladons). Flowers of Perhaps. Selected Poems of Rahel. London: The Menard Press, 26.

Jerusalem (2 Sam 6:16) is used as a creadve stratagem through which Rahel refleets on her own inner self. Micha/ "And Michal Saul's daughter loved David and she despiced him in her heart"

Michal, distant sister, time's thread has not been severed, time's thorns in your sad vineyard have not prevailed. Still in my ear I hear the tinkling of your gold anklet, the stripes in your silk garment have not paled. O f t e n have I seen you standing by your small window pride and tenderness mingling in your eyes. Like you I am sad, Ο Michal, distant sister, and like you doomed to love a man w h o m despise. (Translated by Robert Friend)

The poem continues with two more stanzas in which the author's solitude and sadness is gradually revealed. According to the Israeli critic Dan Miron," Rahel favors stricdy personal and feminine subjects. Thus, isolation, unrequited love for a man, and sterility, are recurring themes in her poetry. That is why her poetry appears simple and direct. Another recurring feature of her verses is the exalting of nature. As an idealistic pioneer, she describes the landscape of the Promised Land in nostalgic and idyllic terms, and sings the praises of agricultural labor. The myth of Rahel takes form and is consolidated through her créative treatment of this pastoral and agrarian imagery. Yochevet Bat-Miriam (1901-1979) stands out among the poets of her time for the innovative force and thematic richness of her verses. Her life followed the almost obligatory pattern of that of other contemporary pioneers. She was born Yochevet Zhelezniak in a town in Byelorussia. Her family followed the Habbad mystical streem which prescribes the study of the sacred texts and the strictest observance of Jewish precepts. After leaving her family home, she studied at the Universities of Odessa and Moscow, and embraced totally secular ideals. She eventually joined the movement of the "Jewish October revolutionaries," who vainly strove to gain recognition for Socialist revolutionary Jewish literature in the Soviet Union. She accomplished her spiritual maturation in the land of Israel in 1928, where she later won prestigious literary prizes. This double mold, Jewish on one hand, totally secular on the other, shaped her creative élan and feminine personality. Her pseudonym "daughter of Miriam," replacing the usual patronymic with the matronymic, epitomizes her feminist consciousness and her relationship with the Jewish tradition. Although her mother's name was indeed Miriam, the name also alluded to the Biblical character, and thus sought a connection to the glorious past that the nascent culture looked up to. Yochevet's Bat-Miriam's poetry is born of the merging of her Jewish heritage with the influences of Russian symbolism. Many Biblical characters are featured in her poems, such as Eve, Adam, Abraham, Hagar, king Saul, and Miriam, w h o

11

Miron, D. 1991, 1 1 4 - 1 1 9 .

is the protagonist of the poem I am about to analyze, which stresses her fundamental role in the history of the sons of Israel and their escape from captivity. Miriam She stood facing the reeds and the papyrus and breathed in the stars and the desert, he round sleeping eye of Apis flooded its glimmered blue. U p o n the sand, on its goldening rustle, upon the smile of a princess hidden, upon a dialogue of hieroglyphs on stone and a marched palace song. At a distance, in the fertilizer of memory, like a horned viper in everlasting desire, trodden Goshen adopted / a dim tribal imagination. - W i t h you, with you in the storm your body protruding as a timbrel, with you in your dance facing fervor smell of dunes and infinity. - I shall tell jealous and leprous, I shall tell complaining of myself. I adjure you in your monasticism not surrendering, In your resplendent isolation do live! She stood rocked by the spell as by the white of the wave's beats. She bent over the baby as a vow, as decree,/ as redemption, as a fate. (Translated by liana Pardes)

The author skillfully draws from two repertories, the Biblical and the mythical Egyptian one. In the first stanza, she alludes to the well-known episode in Ex 2:4, in which Moses' sister (whose name is not mentioned in the Bible), lays the baby in the papyrus box on the river and remains in wait among the reeds to watch its fate. As she waits, Miriam breathes in the freedom of the desert and the star-studded sky, an image evoking God's promise to Abraham to grant him a progeny as numerous as the sand on the seashore and the stars in the sky (Gen 22:17). The Apis-bull, sleepy and inert, personifies Egypt, which is evoked in rapid sketches: golden sand, Pharaoh's daughter, hieroglyphics that seem to converse on the stone on which they are carved, and finally Pharaoh's palace. This image of Egypt is contrasted with a representation of the land of Goshen, the residence of the sons of Israel, in w h o m the dormant desire for a new tribal identity and political independence is reawakened, leading them to the exodus from Egypt to the Promised Land. The two following stanzas also refer to the Pentateuch. The first recalls the prophetess dancing in exultation for the Jews' victory over the Egyptians (Ex 15: 20-21). The second, through the words "jealous" and "leprous" and "isolation," recalls another episode of the life of Miriam told in N u m 12:1-16. The prophetess and her brother Aaron rebelled

against Moses for marrying an Ethiopian woman. Strangely enough, G o d punished only Miriam, with leprosy. She was healed by intercession of the prophet after a period of isoladon. As liana Pardes 12 righdy observes, Yochevet BatMiriam offers a polemic interpretation of this arbitrary punishment. It is Miriam herself who chooses isolation, in the form of the monastic segregation, to regain her autonomy and dignity. The last verses exalt her as the mother of the nation, w h o freed the Jewish people from slavery. Bending over her baby, she takes an oath that will lead to the salvation of her people. The opposition of a pagan imagery, epitomized by the Apis bull, and a Jewish one, focused on the life of the prophetess who freed her people, impart an ideological characterization to the poem. Egypt versus Israel evokes another opposition, that between Diaspora and Zion, typical of patriotic Jewish poetry. However, the poem never mentions Moses and his charismatic role as liberator of Israel from the Egyptian captivity. It is Miriam who gives redemption, both in the private and the public sphere. Moses is entrusted by his mother, Yochevet, to Miriam, who saves him and raises him. It is to her that the Jewish people owe their salvation. 13 The relationship of the "founding mothers" with the Biblical text often transcends mere ideology. They draw on Jewish history, the main source of Israel's collective memory, to define their own new personal identity. It is no coincidence that Yehuda Amichai, perceiving the value of remembrance, makes Rahel's life and poetic élan into a symbol. Rahel manages to re-evoke the past of the Jewish nation. Bachtin claimed that, to reach a true understanding of the present, the "long time" of literature is necessary, a centuries-long cycle surviving as collective memory, without which the present becomes dull and meaningless.

12

13

Pardes, I. 1993. "Yochevet Bat-Miriam: The Poetic Strenght of a Matronym." In Gender and Text. Ed. N. B. Sokoloff, A. Lapidus Lerner, and A. Norich, 39-63. Ibid., 55-56.

E L "LENGUAJE" C O M O SOPORTE DEL M O D E L O H E R M E N E U T I C O DE LA NOVELA VÉASE: AMOR

DE D A V I D G R O S S M A N

M A R I A PÉREZ VALVERDE Universidad de Granada, Spain Cada palabra, aunque esté cargada de siglos, inicia una página en bianco y compromete el porvenir. (Jorge Luis Borges)

Estas lineas que siguen tienen la intenciôn de completar dos trabajos anteriores en los que abordaba disrintos aspectos de la novela Véase: amor de David Grossman, siempre relacionados con el concepto de lenguaje y la dialécdca memoria-olvido que hallamos en la novela. La lectura de esta novela siempre me ha planteado ciertas cuesriones, pero sobresalian con insistencia dos interrogantes: 1. Si las ideas sobre memoria y olvido eran reflexiones aisladas provocadas p o r el tema del Holocausto en la novela. D e hecho, de un m o d o u otro, estas ideas no son ajenas a la literatura israeli. Solo basta mencionar entre los novelistas más reconocidos a A. B. Yehoshua con sus obras El amante ο Divorcio tardio, ο Arnos O z con Tocar el agua, tocar el viento, ο el relato de Aharon Megged El nombre, que temádcamente tiene bastantes similitudes con la novela de Grossman. 2. El p o r qué habia utilizado el lenguaje c o m o soporte del argumento de la novela. Podriamos pensar c o m o hace Abraham Balaban que la generaciôn de autores a la que pertenece Grossman emplea el lenguaje c o m o intermediario entre el m u n d o y el autor (1994: 26—27). Podria ser, pero creo que la funciôn del lenguaje en esta novela no es de mera intermediadora, más bien es una funciôn esencial si atendemos por una parte a lo que significa el lenguaje en la tradiciôn judia, y por otra, a la máxima importancia que se le ha otorgado p o r la ftlosofia de este siglo al lenguaje c o m o origen de la Historia. Si consideramos estos argumentos, p o d e m o s aventurar una hipotética respuesta a las dos cuestiones del inicio: tanto la dialéctica memoria-olvido c o m o la teoria del lenguaje que leemos en Véase: amor nos conducen a una interpretaciôn hermenéutica que nos révéla un concepto de Historia. Lo que en otras obras de la literatura hebrea moderna son apuntes de un problema latente en el Judaismo y en Israel—la lucha entre el pasado y el présente, entre la tradiciôn y la modernidad, entre el recuerdo y el olvido—en esta novela de Grossman construyen una estructura conceptual más compleja: una reflexion sobre el problema de la historicidad. Nuestro objetivo será—en una "apuesta p o r el sentido" c o m o seiiala Paul Ricoeur a la tarea hermenéutica—analizar este concepto de Historia, siendo nuestro hilo conductor las distintas ideas que sobre el lenguaje encontramos en

esta novela. Es en este sentido en que se debe comprender el que hablemos de "lenguaje" c o m o soporte del modelo hermenéudco de esta novela. Si no fuera de este m o d o caeriamos en la más absoluta tautologia ya que el fundamento mismo de la hermenéudca es el lenguaje.

El lenguaje como fuente de historicidad El primer indicio de la relevancia del lenguaje y de éste como fuente de historicidad lo vemos ya en el inicio de la novela cuando su protagonista, Momik, un niiio de nueve anos que vive con sus padres—supervivientes de los nazis—en la Jerusalén de 1959, descubre un fragmento de un relato escrito por su do abuelo—también superviviente del Holocausto y famoso cuentista en la Europa prenazi—al que han llevado a su casa. Es en ese m o m e n t o al leer el cuento cuando es consciente de una historia y de un pasado silenciados, pero latentes en su vida, que puede descubrir a través del lenguaje escrito: ... éste era el relato que Momik encontrô en el periôdico, y... supo que era la historia más fascinante e interesante jamás escrita y que la página despedía un olor milenario, ciertamente, y se parecia a una pagina del libro de la Torah... Momik sabia que esa página era de hecho el principio de todas las cosas y de todos los libros del mundo... y estaba absolutamente claro que si conocia esto lo conoceria todo. (16)

Lo que Momik ha experimentado de la lectura de este cuento es el re-conocimiento de un pasado que se ha hecho actual en ese momento. Este es el efecto principal de la interpretaciôn de un texto como indica Hans George Gadamer, filôsofo alemân y padre de la hermenéudca moderna, por el cual se cancelan el tiempo y el espacio y a través de la lectura es posible actualizar el pasado (Gadamer 1960: 216). Grossman al igual que Gadamer concede a la literatura "la conservation y la transmisiôn espiritual, que aporta a cada présente la historia que se oculta en ella" (Gadamer 1960: 213). Con esta funciôn que Grossman otorga al lenguaje literario muestra su acuerdo con las teorias de este filôsofo alemân que manifiesta el peso que el lenguaje tiene sobre la comprensiôn e interpretaciôn de lo que nos rodea tal y c o m o cada hablante se lo encuentra dado cuando se incorpora a la existencia histôrica. Dejando otras caracterisdcas que nos muestra David Grossman del lenguaje, vemos que éste está considerado desde el punto de vista de su historicidad. Una concepciôn del lenguaje que en palabras de Heidegger séria "fundamento que soporta la historia y hasta su razôn de ser" (Heidegger 1937: 1 3 8 39). Tanto es asi que en la novela podemos leer una curiosa description del origen del mundo, bastante alejada del Génesis biblico, pero en la que no varia la importancia del papel del lenguaje: Por favor, esto sucediô hace millones y millones de afios... lancé de mi interior la pregunta hacia alli, hacia ella [la tierra] ... pasaron cincuenta ο cien mil anos ... y vi que se habia cristalizado en formas insôlitas ... y después tuve aquel terrible impacto cuando vi que le crecian manos y piernas y después de una eternidad y media, vi que se habia convertido en una criatura humana. (116-117)

E n esta descripciôn no hay ninguna fuerza divina que intervenga en la creaciôn, solo el poder del mar, pero sigue manteniendo c o m o en el mito biblico la importancia del lenguaje en este primer momento del ser humano; es decir, el hombre nace de la palabra. Por tanto, es una concepciôn de la lingûisdcidad originaria del estar en el m u n d o similar al que leemos en los dos relatos de la creaciôn del Génesis 1 y 2. De ahi que cuando en la novela el protagonista expresa su deseo de romper con su pasado, que es un pasado unido al Holocausto a través de su entorno familiar y social, lo primero que se plantea es la destrucciôn de este lenguaje, origen y soporte de una historia y un m u n d o que ha permitido una atrocidad c o m o el Holocausto: El queria asesinar el lenguaje... sabia que un lenguaje que permite enunciar una frase c o m o "he matado a tu judio... si es asi, voy a matar...," etc, una lengua donde semejantes enunciados no se contradicen enseguida... una lengua asi no es la de la vida, no es humana, ni moral... N o solo la lengua... era el m u n d o entero lo que queria cambiar..., oh, mi Bruno, el nihilista. (172)

La Historia sin lenguaje ο una ontologia del présente El resultado de esta destrucciôn lingüisdca la podemos leer cuando Grossman habla de la Epoca Genial.\ pero ya podemos calibrar las consecuencias cuando se califica de nihilista al defensor de esta tesis: Ninguna nostalgia del pasado... solo un ardiente aperito de futuro: n o hay obras inmortales, ni valores eternos, excepto el de la creaciôn, miralos Shlomo, no se acuerdan de nada más alla del m o m e n t o présente... son gentes sin recuerdo, almas de primera mano, que, para poder continuar viviendo, deben recrear a cada m o m e n t o el lenguaje y el amor, renovar en un esfuerzo incesante unos lazos que se deshacen. (175)

Concepto de lenguaje y de existencia idéndco al que expuso F. Nietzsche en su obra Sobre verdady mentira en sentido extramoral. El m u n d o résultante de este lenguaje será un m u n d o sin creencias, sin ataduras sociales ni emotivas, un m u n d o en el que lo esencial es el olvido c o m o ya sentenciô el mismo Nietzsche cuando afirmô que sin el olvido no se podia vivir, y en el que el ansia creadora se convierte en el fundamento esencial de la édca y de la moral. Ya tenemos expuestos dos lenguajes, dos mundos, dos filosofias de la Historia y todos ellos enfrentados por la dialécdca memoria-olvido. Junto a un lenguaje que es Memoria, y por lo tanto, que nos puede hablar del pasado, Grossman nos muestra la otra opciôn: un lenguaje que anula el pasado y la historia. Y precisamente este deseo de olvidar que se metaboliza en un eterno présente es el rasgo más acusado de la moderna filosofia de la Historia. Para ella no existe el pasado, con lo que el futuro es prolongaciôn del présente. De hecho tanto para Hegel como para Kant, el pasado, sobre todo el doloroso, no es historia sino Vor-Geschichte, esto es, el precio de la historia (Mate 1992: 23). Grossman, al mostrarnos este anhelo de Momik por olvidar y el resultado de ello, sintetiza el pensamiento que durante algùn tiempo se mantuvo en ciertos sectores de Israel, el pasado doloroso y humiliante del Holocausto fue el precio

que tuvieron que pagar los que lo sufrieron por ser confiados, por creer en los "otros," por no defenderse. Describe sin compasiôn su actitud pasiva ante los terribles hechos que se avecinaban: Se diría que les gusta que se les hiera y se les insulte, pero son muy desgraciados, en el fondo, nunca hicieron nada en toda su vida para defenderse, se replegaron sobre si mismos para llorar y discutir sobre sus errores y sus historias que no interesan a nadie, lo que el rabino le dijo a la viuda y c o m o un pedazo de carne cayô en la sopa de leche, mientras eran masacrados y masacrados... y también cuando hablan de todo lo que los "goyim" les hicieron sufrir, de todos aquellos " p o g r o m s " y expulsiones y malos tratos, lo hacen con aquella especie de suspiro que quiere decir que todo esta ya perdonado, c o m o alguien que se burla de si mismo atrae las burlas de los demás, es bien sabido, y Momik levantô la cabeza lentamente y se s in do lleno de odio y de côlera y de deseo de venganza. (83)

De este pensamiento de Momik se desprenden dos aspectos: 1. La imagen mantenida durante bastante dempo de que las victimas de los nazis habian acudido como corderos al matadero. Con este prejuicio no extrafia que los habitantes de Eretz Israel vieran a estos supervivientes que llegaban a las costas de Palesdna como gente que necesitaba ser rescatada de ese pasado humillante (Sokoloff 1992: 125). 2. El rechazo absoluto al judaismo de la Diàspora y a su legado de más de 20 siglos, porque el resultado final fue dramâtico y espantoso. Además era el judaismo perdedor, que fracasô en el modelo en que creian: el de la asimilaciôn. Pero en este anhelo por la amnesia en la historia del moderno Israel vemos una paradoja cuando lo cierto es que el Holocausto está en un eterno présente en la vida israeli tal y como leemos en la novela cuando el mismo protagonista, empenado obsesionado por olvidar, se pasa la vida en el interior del Yad Vashem en escribir una Enciclopedia del Holocausto con el fin de que nadie tenga que recordarlo. Séria en palabras de Heidegger, cuando cridca a la moderna filosofia de la Historia, caer en el engano de pensar que al conocer la realidad se conoce al ente. Precisamente esta fijaciôn y obsesiôn por la Š0'ah sirve además para jusrificar esta ontologia del présente, este olvido del judaismo anterior al sionismo. Esto se observa en la primera parte de la novela cuando leemos la confrontation sutil que hace Grossman de ese pasado alicaido, decadente y humiliante, frente a un présente emergente, novedoso y joven del Israel de los anos 50. De ahi que Momik aproveche cualquier excusa ya sea depordva, ciendfica, econômica, militar, de su joven patria para resaltarlo de un m o d o exagerado. Podriamos aplicar a esta acritud el pensamiento de Hans Küng en su comentario al pensador Emil Fackenheim cuando senala que esta fijaciôn y obsesiôn por la Š0 'ah conduce "a un vaciamiento del judaismo con frecuencia en favor de un israelismo convertido en pseudorreligiôn" (1993: 552). Grossman muestra su oposiciôn al pensamiento sionista que llega a juzgar a un judio de acuerdo con su contribution a la Causa Nacional Judia. Este es el caso del abuelo de Momik, cuentista de fama en la Europa pre-nazi y que es obviado por la cridca por no tocar temas "propiamente judios":

El invesrigador continuaba sefialando que el abuelo habia sido uno de esos raros autores que, aun escribiendo en un periodo de efervescencia nacional y lingüistica (principios del siglo XX), tratô sobre todo temas universales y generales, sin anteponer la cuestiôn nacional judia, ο incluso ignorândola pura y simplemente, ya que otros escritores hebreos, que eran muy superiores, conscientes de su misiôn nacional sionista, nunca alcanzaron tal popularidad. Ardi de rabia contra ese "investigador" tan presuntuoso. (103)

Pero Véase: amor no es una novela que muestre exclusivamente estas dos distintas maneras de entender la Historia ni sus consecuencias sino que en esta obra también Grossman se décanta por romper esta ontologia del présente que se ha convertido la vida israeli tanto por su olvido por el judaismo diaspôrico como por su obsesiôn por el Holocausto. El protagonista siente que debe salir de esta situaciôn, que debe quebrar este présente porque el futuro solo es tal—la posibilidad de una novedad radical—cuando lo porvenir sea algo disdnto a la prolongaciôn de su présente representado en los disdntos mitos del eterno retorno que leemos en Véase: amor. Y Momik intuye que el m o d o de romper este présente es volver la mirada hacia el pasado, como lo déclara en el siguiente pàrrafo: Te hablé de él, también de mi. Y de mi familia, y de lo que la Bestia les hizo sufrir. Te hablé del miedo. Y de mi abuelo, a quien no consigo hacer revivir, ni siquiera en una historia. Y también de mi incapacidad de comprender mi propia vida hasta que no conozca mi-vida-no-vivida A11á. (113)

Podemos constatar que el pasado es la clave para su futuro, es una idea similar a la que expone Reyes Mate cuando afirma que "el pasado se convierte en la piedra de toque de toda concepciôn de la historia que quiera escapar de una ontologizaciôn del présente" (Mate 1992: 202). Curiosamente, esta afirmaciôn está inspirada en las teorias de Walter Benjamin y sus famosas Tests de filosofia de la historia, al que se alude en la novela cuando se habla de la posibilidad de romper este présente condnuo (104). Y de igual manera que Benjamin se inspirô en el cuadro de Paul Klee Angelus Novus para realizar toda su obra, Momik verá en la obra del escritor polaco Bruno Schulz la llave para abrir su pasado. Nuevamente es el lenguaje el que le devolverà el recuerdo y la historia. Y es a través de Schulz—que aparece en la novela en un complejo proceso de producciôn intertextual—como Grossman expresa la necesidad de tener en cuenta el pasado, de hacer de él una experiencia comunicable y de trans formarlo en un legado general (Mate 1992: 12). La constataciôn de esta recuperaciôn de la memoria la podemos leer en las dos ultimas partes de la novela con las historias de Wasserman y de Kasik, especialmente en la primera donde se observa todo el proceso y la transformaciôn del protagonista de un ser absolutamente despreciable a un ser humano capaz de tener sentimientos y compasiôn hacia si mismo y hacia el prôjimo. E n una lucha entre la ontologizaciôn del présente y el pasado de los vencidos ha triunfado la memoria y el recuerdo. Pero es cierto también que este triunfo se expresa en términos lingüisricos: se récupéra la memoria gracias al relato que van realizando los personajes de la historia de Wasserman y Momik. Tras asumir esa memoria será capaz de escribir su propia vida.

Lo que he intentado con este trabajo es ver qué indicaba esta teoria del lenguaje que Grossman plasma en Véase: amor, y se ha confirmado mi primera idea de que esta novela encierra un modelo hermenéurico que se nos revela si atendemos a lo que nos dice sobre el lenguaje c o m o modelo de filosofia de la historia. Modelo en el que se hace una critica abierta a esa concepciôn de historia que ha predominado en la cultura occidental, especialmente tras la Ilustraciôn y que adoptô el Estado de Israel, abandonando el que tuvo el judaismo desde siempre en el que el pasado era vital y esencial para su futuro, un pasado que en gran parte era doloroso y de vencidos, creando un présente exclusivamente de ganadores.

Bibliografia Balaban, A. 1994. "Ola novisima en la literatura hebrea." Ariel S)A, 22-28. Benjamin, W. 1916. "Sobre el lenguaje en general y sobre el lenguaje de los hombres." E n Angelus Novus. Barcelona: Edhasa, 1970,145-65.

Gadamer, H. G. 1960 (1977). Verdady método. Fundamentes de una hermenéutica filosôfica. Salamanca: Sígueme. Grossman, D. 1986 (1993). Véase: amor. Barcelona: Tusquet. Küng, H. 1991 (1993). Eljudaismo. Pasado, présente, futuro. Barcelona: Circulo de lectores.

Lafont, C. 1993. La rayon como lenguaje. Una revision de! "giro lingüistico" en lafilosofiadel lenguaje alemana. Madrid: Visor. Mate, R. 1991 .La rayon de los vencidos. Barcelona: Antropos.

Nietzsche, F. 1903 (1990). Sobre la verdad y mentira en sentido extramoral. Madrid: Tecnos. Sokoloff, N. 1992. Imagining the Child in Modern Jewish Fiction. Baltimore-London: Johns Hopkins University Press.

Schiller, A.-Varela, M. E. 1991. Caminante en su tiempo. La poesia de Natán Alterman. Granada: Universidad de Granada.

Varela, M. E. 1996. De los nos de Babel. Estudios comparatives de literatura bebrea. Granada: Universidad de Granada. Wahnôn, S. 1995. Lenguajey literatura. Barcelona: Octaedro.

Vattimo, G. 1989. Mas alla del sujeto: Nietyscbe, Heideggery la hermenéutica. Barcelona: Paidôs.

T H E FIRST H E B R E W W O M E N W R I T E R S W R I T I N G ON THE MARGINS ALICIA RAMOS GONZÀLEZ Universidad de Granada, Spain

At the turn of the century, some ashkenazi w o m e n started to violate their "exe m p d o n " 1 of the literary creauon, which was inherited from generadon to generadon, and started to write in Hebrew. They were not familiar with this language, as it had been the Holy Language for centuries, that is, the language of the Tanakh, of religious observance, and the Halakhah, and also the written language, which had been used only by men to develop their intellectual and literary activities, because only men were allowed to study the Hebrew texts. Most of the women w h o started to break this exemption came from Eastern European Jewry during the last quarter of the 19 th century and the turning of century, but they began their literary activity only in the first decades of the present century. Before them, during the Haskalah period, there were some w o m e n with deep, unusual Jewish education, w h o knew the Talmud and the earlier Jewish poetry, and even wrote in Hebrew. This was the case of Sarah Shapiro or the Italian Rachel Morpurgo. 2 However, their works are not widely known and should rather be considered as preliminary, isolated attempts to incorporate themselves into a traditionally masculine activity, by using an equally masculine language, within a socio-cultural atmosphere which was still not appropriate for allowing w o m e n to develop such an activity properly. O n the other hand, one has to take into account also the vanishing, if not completely quenched, role that w o m e n played intellectually in the realm of the public activities in Eastern E u r o p e during the Jewish Enlightenment, as the term "maskil" has never been applied to women, nor is there a feminine equivalent. These early poetesses are then just "rare" and "exceptional" cases. O n e hundred years later, some Yiddish w o m e n writers tried to write in Hebrew as well. Such was the case of Celia Dropkin, w h o was a pioneer of eroticism in Yiddish poetry. Her Hebrew poetry was not met with a sufficiendy sarisfactory response to encourage her to continue (Forman 1994: 354). T h e number

This term has been used in Galchinsky, M. 1996. The Origin of the Modern Jewish Woman Writer. Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 10. Unfortunately, very few details are known about the life and writing of Sara Shapiro. The case of Rachel Morpurgo is not so extreme. Born in Trieste in 1790 into a prominent Austro-Italian family, she had an extended education: she was able to speak Hebrew and Aramaic; she studied Talmud and another rabbinical texts. Mathematics and Italian Literature, fostered by her cousin Samuel David Luzzato. At the age of 18, she began her literary career writing poetry, continuing until her death in 1871. A modest and sensitive woman, she became acquainted with Judith Montefiore and journeyed with the Montefiores to Palestine. See Henry, S. and Taitz, E. 1978. Written Out of History. New York: Bloch Publishing Company, 199-206.

of female writers w h o in a few years started to create in Hebrew and, as we shall see later on, the quality and personality of their writings, make us to think that in the period since Rachel or Sarah other attempts and other "rare" and "exceptional" anonymous women had to have existed who have lain forgotten in the ruins of the Polish and Russian Jewries. Feminine voices, mothers, wives and daughters, though relegated to the obscurity of their homes, were secredy able to satisfy their need to create for their own sake, using an incipiendy resurgent language that they were hardly able to read. When the voices of women started to be heard in literature as just one voice produced by the resonance of distinct lungs, that is, after 1900, the sociocultural conditions had changed. W o m e n were witnesses of a secular Jewish life which replaced the traditional life; they had begun to develop their emancipation within and outside Judaism; their roles had diversified and transformed. The assimilation, emancipation, the anti-semitism, the persecution, the pogroms, the political ideals...had made women, besides mothers, wives or daughters, educators, revolutionaries, feminists or leaders. 3 They were also pioneers in a new land, Erez Israel, that gave the woman the unique opportunity to start again; there the women writers were also pioneers. 4 The eruption of the first Hebrew women writers at the turn of the century is tied then to the emergence of the Zionist ideals and to the existence of two worlds: Europe, where the distinct roles played by men and women in the old Jewry of the East were too firmly entrenched, and Erez Israel. T h e fact that Hebrew women writers only appeared when Jewish life was secularized is nothing but a symptom of women's repression on behalf of faith and Judaism. The beginning of a female Hebrew Literature is also strongly related to language. W o m e n first had to learn Hebrew and then develop references to Hebrew readings to replace the traditional Yiddish ones, and hence be able to venture in Hebrew creation. Moreover, one must take into account that during the first years there was a great deal of reticence and opposition against writing in the "Holy Language," even for men. Actually, Hemdah Ben-Yehuda and Dvora Baron started writing even before Hebrew was fully converted into a vernacular language. Born in 1873 and 1887 respectively, they plunged in the literary adventure, as early as the last years of the 19th century or the first years of the present one. After them, Esther Raab

3

Educators such as Susanne Charlotte Engelman, Erminia Foa, or Hanna Adler; revolutionaries such as E m m a Goldman, Rosa Luxemburg, Hessia Meyerovna Helfman, or "Esther"; feminists such as Rosika Schwimmer, Edwig D o h m , or Henriette Goldsmidt; and leaders such as Frumet Wolf, or Bertha Pappenheim... among many others. See Glenn, S. 1990. Daughters of the Shtetl: Life and Labour in the Emigrant Generation. Ithaca: Cornell University Press; Hyman, P. 1995. Gender and Assimilation in Modern Jewish History: The Rules and Representation of Women. Seatde: University of Washington Press; and Shepherd, N. 1993. A Priye Below Rubies: Jewish Women as Rebels and Radicals. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

4

Pioneers such as Miriam Baratz, Hayyuta Busel, Rachel Goldberg, Ada Fishman, Hanna Maisel, Sara T h o n , Thelma Yellim... and many others. See Bernstein, D . S. ed. 1992. Pioneers and Homemakers: Jewish Women in Pre-State Israel Albany: State University of N e w York Press; and Katznelson-Rubashow, R. 1975. The Ploughwoman-Records of Pioneer Women of Palestine. N e w York: Herzl Press.

and Zina Rabinowitz began to publish around 1915, and Elisheva and Rahel around 1920. At the beginning of the twenties, Miriam Yalan Stekelis, Yokhevet Bat Miriam and Anda Pinkerfeld Amir, who were born in 1900, 1901 and 1902, respectively, did so as well. Most of them had already produced some literature in Yiddish, Russian or Polish before, starting to write at relatively early ages. This indicates that these women had lived in stimulating atmospheres where there were not so many barriers as their mothers and grandmothers had found before them. They had been born in a time when learning and developing their intellectual attitudes were not a Utopia for women. At the beginning of the 19th century, the education of girls in Russia was limited to informal attendance of the heder for one or two years, or to home instruction by means of readings such as the Ze'enah u-Re'enah. The ideas of Jewish illustration, fully pervaded by the notion of the power of education, led to Jewish educational reform where the matters, language, political trends and subjects to be taught were deeply questioned. The latter point brought relations between the sexes to debate and converted the girls' education into a legally acknowledged exit to public space. O n the other hand, the Jews had been exeluded from the Russian educative system until the mid of the 19th century. In 1844 primary schools for Jewish children were open by the Government and Russian secondary education was opened to them only in the time of Tsar Alexander II. 5 In spite of the compromise with the objective of the educational reform, the accomplishment of such a reform was very difficult, particularly for women, because of the separation among different spheres. Fear of apostasy and spinsterhood, notwithstanding, made women's access to education rather limited; Russian parents feared this to be the way of socialism. Nevertheless, girls were accepted in large numbers at the government schools. Opportunities for educadon were also conditioned by financial resources; the Russian bourgeoisie was able to provide good Jewish teachers to teach their boys the Torah and the Talmud, or good gentile female teachers to teach their girls nonreligious seiences. 6 Generally, education for girls was heavily influenced not just by the attitude toward women, but also by the social status, the country and the orientation of each family and the women themselves. In this way, very varied options appeared, ranging from the search for parallel ways for learning, with the emergence of self-educated women who used the alef-bet and the old Hinnukh Nearim from their brothers (or a Bible) to learn Hebrew, to the study in seminars of Jewish professors and European universities, also including improved heders,folkschules (public schools), gymnasiums (academy for secondary education), krayyn (circles of political studies) and the religious schools for girls Beis Ya'akov.

5

6

See Stanislawski, M. 1983. Tsar Nicholas I and the Jews. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, and Zipperstein, S. 1985. The Jews of Odessa: A Cultural History, 1794-1881. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Regarding to this, Agnon's tale Tehi/a is very illustrative.

O u r writers are good examples of this. Baron, after a long period of selfeducation, got a high diploma in a Russian gymnasium, as a teacher's certificate; Rahel attended a Jewish public school and then a Russian institute; she studied painting in Kiev for two years and graduated in agronomy in the University of Toulouse. Esther studied in the seminar for teachers, after studying in a heder for girls, in a mixed school and, once started studying at the agricultural school of Petah Tikvah, she was one year in the Sorbonne as well. Yokhevet had a traditional Jewish education and went to the universities of Odessa and Moscow. Anda Amir studied at the Universities of Lvov and Leipzig, and Zina at the Moscow University. Elisheva attended courses of pedagogy at the "Association for educating teachers" and went to night courses in an "association for supporters of the Hebrew language." Many Jewish women of the second half of the 19th century, outstanding in different fields, showed great interest in education and dedicated a part of their work to improving the situation of women in this respect. Many of them took education as their principal professional activity. A single teacher able to live with a certain level of economical independence became an ideal for many women, and as stated by Agnon in his tale in Full Youth, though the situation of the Jewish women teachers in Russia was far from idyllic, their number was very large. O u t of our writers, at least Dvora, Rahel, Esther and Yokhevet were for some time active as teachers or tutors. T o this more modern formation of Jewish woman one must add the more traditional and private formation that for centuries had enriched the women, and that had allowed them to live a moralizing life from the religious texts. The Taytsh-Khumesh, i.e. the translation of the Torah to Yiddish, had been the book for learning to spell for many generations of Jewesses in Eastern Europe; the books containing Hasidic 3addikim legends which were written in Yiddish, had entertained in the warmth of Jewish homes. Many religious and moral readings became almost exclusively feminine reading. There appeared a religious folk Yiddish Literature that was strongly associated with women and many Yiddish works on entertaining and illuminâting subjects were made to please the feminine audience. The biblical stories of the Ze'enah u-Re'enah and the medieval knights and kings who observed the Jewish uses and manners of the Bove Bukh; the romance Artus-Hof and the ShmuelBukb, the histories, parables and legends of the Sefer Middot, the Hovot Ha-hevavot of Ibn Pakuda, the Sefer Ha-Hajyim or the Mit^yot Nashim and the distinct books of prayers for women, contributed to make the feminine spirit greater and were the source of wisdom for these women within the private framework. T h e Haskalah made the readings of men and women alike start to diversify. The number of religious books within the set of publications of the second half of the 19th century largely decreased in favor of books on reflection and evasion. The press was also converted into an additional source of diversification and there appeared Yiddish newspapers and weekly journals, such as Kol Mevasser, " f o r the simple people and even women to become aware of what is going on in the entire world" (Varela 1992: 300-301). Together with the Yiddish novels mainly forwarded to Jewish masses and especially women, books like Zikronot

leVeit-David, by Abraham Shalom Friedberg, or the stories by Isaac Meir Dick, were very well known, though not so much as The Vale of Cedars, by the AngloJewish writer Grace Aguilar, which was translated into Hebrew and whose romande aspects charmed the boys and girls from the Jewries of Eastern Europe, as happened with the adaptarion Columbus from the German original by Campe carried out by Haykl Hurwith, which transported the Jews from Russia, Poland and Galitzia to far-away America. These books, some in Hebrew, were already available for men and also for women, as these latter had started to fill the private houses for Hebrew teaching since the middle of the 19th century. Women did not just want to read Yiddish books written for them, but also books intended for men and women, written in Hebrew. Likewise, in the Russian shteds the girls started to exchange opinions on the books by Tolstoy or Crime and Punishment by Dostoievsky. For women now, reading is dreaming and, in some cases, a true "disease," the women's illness, the "ke-derekh nashim." A book that raised this "ke-derekh nashim" to true limits of "frenzy" was Ahavat Zijyon, by Abraham Mapu. The number of Hebrew editions as well as the translations into other languages of this book can be regarded as a measure of its far-reaching scope and meaning: it became the first best-seller of the Modern Hebrew Literature. It was also used as a spelling book by many women, including some women writers. Mapu created a novel where, combining fiction with historical facts and an emotional and florid language, the love relationship between the hero and heroine is legitimated, against obstacles such as social expectations and the heroine's father. The author represents a new Jewish woman who was already starting to emerge in the traditional society. With a novel that is exaggeratedly romantic and sentimental and that uses the typical ingredients of a true feuilleton (i.e. crimes of passion, exchanged children...) as appealing tools, Mapu changes the order of characters to break the stereotype that associates man with reason and woman with the heart, through a reflective Tamar versus an emotive and passionate Amnon. The Mapu's heroine is able to defy her father: she is not a biblical stereotype, but a 19th century Jewess with charity and rebellious actions, able to declare her love to Amnon, the hero formed from the biblical model of David and enclosed within ideological frames that reflect him as hardly real, and even so, being able to confront the father for the sake of his love for the beaudful and clever Tamar (Ramos Gonzâlez 1996: 275-280; 287-288). It was in this way that woman started to participate and to be perceived in the new Hebrew Literature. At first, as viewed by the others, then by herself by contributing with her own voice. Therefore, this new literature is also a literature of women: women enter it one way or another by investing a part of their own being (as a model or as an artist). In order to see how men perceived women in the period of the Haskalah, it is interesting to consult the series Hemic Poems of our time by Judah Leib Gordon, particularly The Point of a Yod, which was first published in 1876. G o r d o n focused his attention onto the Jewish woman and used his work to uncover the religious misunderstanding and social prejudices she confronted, similarly to as writers like Galdôs, Zola or Hardy did in the rest of Europe. Gordon denounces the sacrifice of daughters through arranged mar-

riages on behalf of G o d and describes the defenseless and marginalized Jewish woman; he also poeticizes her defenselessness before the rules, laws and precepts that are or are not established. G o r d o n tells the woman: "Hebrew woman, who knows your life?." But, like other maskilim, although he brings the women out from an anonymous position, he was ultimately unable to find an exit for them. G o r d o n presents women with a rather passive character, unable to protest against oppression or imagine a different future (Ramos Gonzâlez 1997: 59-60; 82-85). Since this moment, the Modern Hebrew Literature is being filled with feminine characters representing different roles. In Ajit Zabua by Mapu, Elizabeth and Athaliah represent two passionate women of the Haskalah. In his Fathers and sons, Mendele shows generation conflicts where women are also involved. The Two Extremes, by Asher Braudes, embodies the traditional and modern Judaism through the characters of Rosalie, Lisa and Shifrah, just like Sarah does in the book By Herself of Aaron Abraham Kadek. Ben Avigdor approaches also the woman problem through the dressmaker Deborah in his Love and Duty. In his book Mistress Hannah Peretz reveals the heart of the Jewish woman as well as her pitiful life. T h e poem Shirati by Bialik shows the doleful existence of a widow w h o was actually the mother of the author. The characters show different patterns: the matriarchal figure of Hannah Aberdas in Portraits of a Brewery and the madcap woman in Meite, both by Asher Barash; the reader woman of Peretz; the ideal women in Ha-nefilim, by Yaakov Cahan; the young woman who, when pressed, commits suicide, in Hankah and Bat ha-Rab by Steindberg. Berdischewski argues against the arranged marriages and the pitiful lives of women. The protagonist of Mjriam is one of his best feminine characters. In Baemeq, he takes the myth of the aqedah of the Jephthah's daughter. In his Tehila, Agnon also describes the pitiful sufferings undergone by a woman because of a mistake committed by her father, and in his In Full Youth he introduces the figure of the feminine narrator. The Baer sisters, concentrated onto study and reading, are the characters of Adrift, written by Gnessin. Rosa, misunderstood by her friends, Mania, cool and distant. The main character is Najum, who thinks he is unable to touch their hands, particularly in the Mania case, because of her freezing look, her shrill whisde, and the jacket on her shoulders. Nevertheless he also thinks, "all women as a whole were nothing but just one great woman." All of these feminine characters are seen with man's eyes and were created in a masculine universe. Many of them represent the true problem of women but, like those of Gordon, are hardly able to imagine anything else. The answers to them can only be given by the women themselves, raising their voices and showing their physical and intellectual capabilities. T o be able to do so, the women who started to write in Hebrew had the Yiddish Literature produced by women as a reference point. These women had already violated their "exemption," as they wanted to speak and to be heard. They actually wanted to communicate from woman to woman. In the preface of Meyneket Riwka, the yogerin Riwka Tiktiner declares that her book is written in honor of all women and to show that they can write important things and good comments, as good as men can (Baumgarten 1993: 84). In fact, many women showed themselves to be maecenas for Yiddish Literature, taking the freedom

to choose the works to be done; they also acted as translators. But no doubt the most important sources for women in Yiddish Literature are the Tkhines, those asking, intimate and personal prayers that uncover the women's spirituality while making femininity and Judaism compatible. The work of Dr. Chava Weissler on the Tkhines offers us a beautiful view of this unknown though rich world. 7 The Tkhines are not just the chants of a bird, written inside a steel cage in the middle of desert, as defined by Dr. Cynthia Ozick (Ozick 1983: 129-130), but also feelings, power and even a form of "freedom." Structured in terms of important events in the lives of women, the Tkhines highlight women's intimate moments which acquire in this way a different value and meaning: lighting candies on the Sabbath, pregnancy, the birth of a boy or a girl. It is their prayers, their way of giving thanks or asking something of a G o d to w h o m they feel close, to w h o m they speak with their own voice, heart and devotion. It is a G o d w h o feels them, to whom they, wrapped in the robe of light from Sabbath candies, can whisper: "Dear G o d . " Many Tkhines are also dedicated to the great biblical matriarchs, with whom women feel they can identify; they pray to them for their children, husbands, and all women of Israel. Tkhines and Yiddish Literature were for women in Eastern Europe a place where religiosity could be expressed and their own voice heard. The voice of women in the Modern Hebrew Literature is raised to sing and to tell, to speak,... to pray. T o pray, because part of the creation by the first women writers is prayers, prayers with a feminine voice. When women started to write in Hebrew, they did not start from anything. They had learned to spell in their "Bible-Spelling Book," had read religious texts and entertaining and reflective books; they had been cultivated and expressed their feelings in an intimate way, to themselves. The time was up to write for anyone else and mainly for other women. It is for this reason that these writers possessed a special silence which evokes the silence of many mothers and grand-mothers in the European Jewries, during many centuries, and their revalued small details in these intimate prayers. They are also connected to their biblical foremothers: Esther Raab admired Deborah; Elisheva was called the Ruth of the Volga's banks; Rahel identified herself with the biblical Rachel and as Mikal's sister. The poet Bialik compares her premature death to the sacrifice of the Jephthah's daughter. The first Hebrew women writers started to answer with a firm voice the question raised by the poet Y. L. Gordon, "who are you?" There are many things in their creation which are shared by all of them, but perhaps it is worth noticing this flash of pride that all of them reflect, as their attachment to the past, a fact so well expressed by Elisheva: "the past is also the future and the yesterday did not vanish but lives" (Waxman 1960: IV, 333).

See Weissler, C. 1991. "Prayers in Yiddish and the Religious World of Ashkenazic W o m e n . " In Jewish Women in Historical Perspective. Ed. J. Baskin. Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 159181; and Weissler, C. 1987 "The Traditional Piety of Ashkenazic W o m e n . " In Jewish Spirituality. Ed. A. Green. London: Roudedge & Kegan, 145-175.

More importantly, the first generation of Hebrew women writers, i.e. the mothers of Modern Hebrew Literature, 8 share their womanhood in the pages they create, with which they re-write the Hebrew Literature, a literature that they enrich with their feelings and lives, their experiences and values. When written by Anda Amir, the pages are full of rejoicing for motherhood and sadness for the death during the Israel Independence war of a girl w h o survived Holocaust. 9 If the one w h o writes is Yokhevet, Hebrew Literature is impregnated by Jewish piety and the home saintliness of the Russian shted; then the letters and words sound like a murmured prayer, and the tears of a girl recall those of her mother when, silendy, she prayed. At the hands of Esther, Hebrew Literature becomes the sound of the "Tkhine" "Holly Grandmothers in Jerusalem," 1υ and the letters have the aroma of the Sabbath candles. Miriam sinks Hebrew Literature in a sea of the innocent prayers of a child, and Rachel fills it with the smell of MotherEarth with a little dark face and "through the instant hole the rotten thread of life" is "threading with weak hand." 11 With her poem My Poem Book, Hebrew Literature is pervaded with the blush that the poetess feels when she sees all her naked feelings in her first published book. The pride and rebelliousness for being a Jewish woman that wants a candelabrum for the woman gallery in the synagogues in order for the women "to shine with their own light, not with that is lent by m e n " is expressed by Dvora Baron, w h o fills Hebrew Literature with "sunbeams" and has "the warmth of the mother's hand." When Dvora writes, the Hebrew Literature feels the loneliness of a woman w h o is not supported by other women, i.e. the loneliness of a writer. 12 Her tales convert literature into "rags" in which experiences that are like small sighs are embroidered (Lieblich 1 9 9 7 : XV).

This scenario is nothing but an excerpt from an ampler study that we are conducting on the first Hebrew women writers, where some aspects that have not been dealt with here are included. Such aspects are also of great interest for us: the omission of most of the female authors and much of their writings; the interaction of women writers with male figures and their influence on them; to what extent women writers were conditioned by such men; the mutual personal relations among these writers; public recognition; the problems they had adopting their roles; as well as the similarities and differences with the Yiddish, German, English and American Jewish writers of the same sex. By reading the first women writers as a woman, you can perceive a different and rich world. In such a world, attitudes, feelings, wishes and common subjects can be established through which these women are connected to each other. Like the \•0gerìn, they raised their apparendy modest song, showing a great deal of pride for their personal and feminine style, both in the language and themes. In the freedom of a new land, some looking ahead, some, like the Lot's wife, looking backward, they 8

9 10 11 12

This term has been previously used in Miron, D. 1991. lmahot meyasdot, ahayot borgot. Tel Aviv: Ha-kibbutz ha-meuhad. See her p o e m "Ahat," 1953. See her p o e m "Sabtot kdoshot birushalayim." See the p o e m 22 from her book Safiah. See her tale "Shabririm."

created a new literature in which they believed and expected to be included. Nevertheless, time has marginalized them, putdng their contributions and names on the white space that collects the written lines, in the silence of the written page. The margins sound like the murmur of a poem.

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IDA F I N K AND H O L O C A U S T LITERATURE GILA RAMRAS-RAUCH Hebrew College, Boston, USA

T h e literature of the Shoah or Holocaust is varied and multifaceted. It is a literature of commemoration, testimony and documentation. It is a literature of both fact and fiction. It is ultimately an attempt to give a verbal expression to an experience that challenges and defies the boundaries of language. T h e finality and irreversibility of the Shoah add to its incomprehensibility. Ida Fink's narratives introduce a new m o d e of depiction to Shoah literature. Her laconic and often hauntingly beautiful fiction excels in the absence of nostalgia and in its power to arrest a remembered m o m e n t . In her short narrative the narrating voice does not dominate the tale, but rather, orchestrates the various levels of the narrative. This voice often combines two points of view and thus, the m o m e n t of narration and the narrating m o m e n t overlap and interlace. In examining Fink's writing, it is essential to note that her story does not unfold in an expected m a n n e r — f o r example, an additional voice or an added point of view is introduced, giving us information about a past experience or the future fate of a character. This deviation from the story line functions like a dark specter to jolt the reader with an intimation of the ensuing horror. This technique offers the reader insights into the severed world of Fink's characters. Ultimately, a new, truly unknown sense of time setdes in—a state of physical and mental siege in the midst of the familiar engulfs the characters. Moreover as noted, Fink integrates various pieces of time, not hesitating to break the continuum of the narrative. Specifically in this one street to another, from one's h o m e to one's garden, can be detrimental or even fatal—hovers over the lives of her characters: They are in a constant state ofgeworfenheit. Further, on top of this new sense time, a new lexicon is introduced into their lives. Fink, like other Shoah writers—Aharon Appelfeld and David G r o s s m a n come to m i n d — is a maintainer as well as a creator of memory. This leads inherendy to several basic questions: Are Shoah narrative testimonies in the wide and narrow sense of the word? Is Fink's intention to bear witnesses, and is the text, regardless of the intention of the writer, a testimony? Fink's reluctance to dwell on generalized statements is made clear by the nature of her fiction. Insights, tenderness and constant awareness informs her stories. She does not always abide by the rules of continuity, consequence and causality. Her writing, especially in her short narratives, is often palimpsistic in nature. T h e self-same place can be familiar and comforting and a few minutes later, the site of catastrophe, slaughter and blood. Further, the narrator's voice is not lured into nostalgic stories about the good old days. Instead, she points to the marred beauty, the broken life, and the pain and shame inflicted u p o n innocent people. T h r o u g h o u t her writing, not unlike Aharon Appelfeld, Fink dwells

on the penultimate moment prior to the irreversible change. She allows her characters to contemplate—in the moment before the action— the unknown that races towards them with deathly speed. The Shoah introduced Fink like other Shoah writers to a new lexicon: Regular time—namely, objective time—no longer reigns consistendy. Time and self are embraced in a new state of being. Fink is an archeologist of time, unraveling the ruins of memory, and out of the singular shards which she has unearthed building stories, constructing histories. Her greatest strength ultimately then is capturing the broken pieces of lives and reworking them into a narrative. A sense of the tremendous foreboding hovers over her protagonists. This translates ultimately into an avoidance of sentimentality, emotionality. This is underscored by the conflict between an attempt to live every minute, every day and at the same time not to be yourself. Only through self-negation and constant invention do her major protagonist survive. In this her autobiographical protagonist often resemble the voice in Primo Levi, Survival in Auschwitz Survival turns out to be an ultimate value in almost an absolute value. Self-assertion and self-negation coexist in the life of many of Fink's characters. What we see in these stories is that one must change completely—must rely on all of ones' resources and creativity—in order for one not to be oneself. Despite the nonphilosophical nature of Fink's fiction, her writing raises ontological and existenrial questions. If I cannot be myself—in a sense if I can cease to be myself— what is the self? W h o is the person w h o acts and what is the person? The disguise is there in order to negate the self and its success, temporary as it may be, challenges the roving eye w h o has to translate the self and to check it in the mirror of those w h o observe her, in other words, her enemies. This form of reconstructive memory does not aim at a total picture; instead it replicates the truncated experience of the characters and the warm caring and occasionally ironic and whimsical point of view. Fink challenges the certainties of the uncertain and vagaries of memory and testimony. In Shoah literature the fantastic emerges both as a thematic and a structural element. In general, fantastic literature demands a willing suspension of disbelief on the part of the reader—and we are willing for the most part to overcome our disbelief for the sake of a partial fulfillment of our wishful thinking or the reaffirmation of a normative system. In the case of Shoah literature, however, all this becomes far more problematic—and literary premises, hitherto unchallenged, are now challenged in a new and forceful ways. Thus we cannot suspend our belief in the actual events, but at the same time no suspension of belief can be demanded because the real is so unreal in character. The twentieth century "celebrates"—shrilly and unabashedly—the decline of the human being as a paradigm of reason and nature. The attendant virtues of truth, justice and mercy have therefore been shunted aside as inauthentic relics. Again and again in Shoah literature, life appears as an unreal game in which old assumed rules no longer hold. And yet, amongst the ruination of reason and meaning, literature—Fink's prominendy among it—has been a profound attempt to defy reason in an inexplicable world.

Fink's fiction can be perceived as a series of concentric circles: at the very inner circle is the basis- her personal experience. O n the extreme position one may find her surrealistic fantastic tales. However, this paradigm of concentric centers, although convenient is often not too highly accurate. The nature of Fink's narratives, especially in her shorter fiction, is predicated on a combination of actual details and the fantastic. Fink introduces reality into fiction and vice versa. O n e can distinguish between the telling voice and the Seeing Eye in Fink's shorter fiction Simultaneously, as noted earlier, a double motion occurs in Fink's fiction. Her characters are in motion as is the narrating voice that follows them around a variety of time zones. A vast distance separated the old time from the new, the space between the first SS operation—which we still called a roundup—ands the second, which for the first time we called by its proper name, Aktion. This new time did not displace the old time all at once; we had grown accustomed to the old time, we felt at home in it—so that the process occurred slowly, almost imperceptibly. But the change was nevertheless inevitable and by the end of the second Aktion..., the new time was firmly established. ... O u r vocabulary sprouted new expressions and strange acronyms for long names, but the word Aktion towered above them all (Ida Fink, Traces, 53,54). Ida Fink's narratives introduce another mode to Shoah Literature. Her modernistic approach challenges the rules of continuity, consequence and causality. By combining, the varying point of view she relinquishes her role as an allknowing narrator. The use of the fantastic introduces the element of the hesitadon experienced by the reader. The fragility of existence, the realization that in the new time zone one wrong move can be fatal engulfs all her characters. Her characters are in a constant state of geworfenheit. This applies to the stories of survivors and victims. As noted above, a new sense of time, a new lexicon is introduced into the life of her characters and the language gains a new meaning. Fink's fiction is devoid of nostalgia. She refrains from creating sharp demarcation lines between past and present. Yet, despite it all, her love for the landscape of her childhood is clear and poignant. The fluidity of Fink's fiction allows form foregrounding, and yet the present is never being too far removed from the landscapes of a blissful childhood. Her autobiographical character presents a sense of victory, almost superiority over her oppressors as depicted in her novel The Journey. The Shoah is a metatext for present and future generations. The fine line between "story" and "history" continues to occupy scholars since it challenges the phenomenology of Shoah in general and Shoah Literature in particular. The emergence of the fantastic in Shoah literature is most interesting. Appelfeld, Fink, Grossman and other writers introduced the fantastic into their fiction. The emergence of the fantastic coincides with various phenomena; the decline of the sublime, the atomistic rather than the holistic approach to literature and the decline of the mimetic depiction of art in twentieth century. Irony, paradox, metonymy and synecdoche are basic structural and hermeneutic endties that appear in the fiction of Fink, and other modernistic and postmodernis-

tic Shoah writers. Thus, the fantastic emerges as allowing for open-endedness, unhindered by the demands of probability and resolvability. In Shoah literature the fantastic emerges both as thematic element and as a structural element. Generally fantastic literature demands suspension of disbelief on part of the reader—and we are willing, usually to overcome our disbelief for the sake of a partial fulfillment of our wishful thinking a n d / o r the affirmation of social values. In the case of Shoah literature, all this becomes problematic, and literary premises, hitherto unchallenged, are now challenges in a new and forcefill way. Thus we cannot suspend our belief in the actual events, but at the same time no suspension of disbelief can be demanded—because the real is so unreal in character. Again and again in Shoah literature, life appears as an unreal game in which old assumed rules no longer hold. Literature reemerges as a life affirming expression, as the power of language to defy the attempt to silence man and defy culture. Ida Fink is one the outstanding Shoah artists.

T H E L O S T C H I L D R E N OF GERMAN-JEWISH CULTURE Z 0 H A R SHAVIT Tel-Aviv University, Israel

With which version of the Bible were the ·Jews in the G e r m a n speaking countries acquainted during the Haskalah? Which texts were responsible for creadng the image of America as a new world a m o n g European Jewry? H o w were the historical images of European Jewry constructed. What was their nature and w h o were their heroes? What role did the texts for Jewish children, published by the Philo Verlag during the Third Reich, play in the creadon of an alternative identity for Jewish children under the new Regime? In other words: What do we know about books for Jewish children in the G e r m a n speaking countries? Until very recendy the answer would have been—close to nothing. T h e fact that in the German-speaking countries, books for Jewish children were written and published systematically and regularly over hundreds of years remained unknown. Until recently academic research has hardly dealt with these texts, failing, in fact, even to acknowledge their existence. However, thanks to a joint research project of Tel-Aviv and Frankfurt universities conducted by Prof. Dr. Hans-Heino Ewers and myself with the support of the G I F — G e r m a n Israeli F o u n d a t i o n — o v e r the last seven years the research teams were able to recover the field, to reconstruct a large portion of the corpus of texts and to begin extensive study and analysis. O n c e the dimensions of the corpus began to take shape in front of our eyes, it became clear that the reconstruction of the texts involves m u c h more than merely reclaiming a certain forgotten chapter of German-Jewish history. I would like to maintain right from the beginning that already at this stage of our research, it is clear that this reconstruction throws new light on G e r m a n Jewish cultural history, for at least two reasons: a) These texts played a major role in the emergence of the new Jewish cultural life in Germany, especially in the shaping of Jewish identity and in the creation of the cultural images of Jewish society. b) T h e texts bear on processes of interference between G e r m a n and Jewish cultures, traditionally described as symbiosis, shedding particular light on the modes of interference and on the cultural agents involved. T h e project is vast. T h e Handbuch presendy available in a Metzler Verlag publication (Shavit and Ewers 1996) encompasses 1495 pages.

The presentation of the work involved in the project requires numerous seminars. I believe that the best way of giving here a slight idea of the project is to limit myself to the presentation of several of our preliminary methodological decisions and to some of the working hypothesis and to describe briefly the process of the reconstruction of the field itself.

Preliminary methodological decisions A mandatory condition for the realization of this project was the actual invention of the field. Since the field never existed before as a discipline in its own right, some methodological decisions were essential. The single pioneering study of the field, that by Uriel Ofek (Ofek 1979), did refer to the existence of dozens of books published in Hebrew for Jewish children in Germany. However, O f e k was not acquainted with the dimensions of the field nor with the existence of numerous books for Jewish children in German or in a bi-lingual format. Neither did other scholars of related fields, such as Jewish social history (Katz 1935, Katz 1973), the history of Jewish pedagogy (Eliav 1960, Rappel 1986), the history of German children's literature and the history of childhood—all of them were not aware of the existence of a rich field of books for Jewish children and hardly ever referred to it in their studies. Assuming that the field remained unknown primarily because none of the existing disciplines would or could have explored it, another approach had to be adopted. D u e to its inherent interdisciplinary nature as well as to its dynamicfunctional conceptualization, the semiotics study of culture was found to meet the needs of the project most fruitfully. Once the methodological issue was setded, we could begin with the reconstruction of the field. T o use a metaphor—our work resembled an archaeological excavation. We had to expose unknown cultural strata and unearth coundess fragments, whose origin and date were often hard to confirm. We had to locate the lost cities and villages, determine which parts should be excavated, which elements belonged to which period and which scenario, and which were entirely irrelevant. In more a down-to earth formulation, the reconstruction of the field involved several preliminary difficulties concerning the definition of a "Jewish b o o k " as well as the linguistic and geographical boundaries of the project; Needless to say, their solution required modifications time and again. T h e first difficulty concerned the definition of what is a "Jewish" book. The criterion of the "Jewishness" of the author was rejected straightaway—needless to explain why racial definitions had to be avoided. We came to the conclusion that the only possible criterion for identifying texts as "Jewish" should be a cultural-historical one. By that we meant the adoption of the point of view prevailing at each of the periods involved, namely the internal historical point of view of the time: books identified at the time as Jewish by various channels were consequently identified as such by us.

The adoption of the internal point of view also entailed the inclusion of certain kind of books at a specific point of time and their exclusion latter. For instance, school books were included or excluded in our corpus according to their treatment during the various periods. As long as the system of texts for children did not distinguish between school books and literature for children, the former was included in our project. However, our research followed the development of the historical notion of books for Jewish children: around 1850 the opposition between school books and literature for children became clear. School books written since 1850 were, therefore, not considered part of the corpus of our project. Scholastic books from later periods were taken into account only when they were intended as literature for private reading. The second difficulty concerned the question of geographical borders, which turned out to be more problematic than expected. As we studied the texts, it became clear that the books often crossed the boundaries of the so-called the "deutsche Raum." For instance, some of the books first published in Germany, were later published in various places other then Germany: Prague, Vilna, Warsaw, Tel-Aviv, Odessa and even Baghdad. Although the research focuses on German speaking countries, latter developments of tides whose career, so-tospeak began in Germany, could not be ignored. Neither could we ignore implications of the crossed boundaries for the cultural relations between the German-Jewish center and other Jewish cultural centers. Therefore we included in several cases other publishing places as well. The third difficulty concerned the question of language. The linguistic situation of our corpus involved no less than three languages: Hebrew, German and Yiddish. The first one never became the mother-tongue of the children but prevailed in the writing of the texts for children at the end of the eighteenth century and the beginning of the nineteenth. The second, the German-language, was gradually appropriated by more and more Jews. As is well known, Jews began to use modern German in the eighteenth century, as part of their integration into the German society. In the nineteenth century, however, it was not necessarily their first language. Thus, the two languages of the books remained for a long time the second or third languages of their readers, while Yiddish remained their mother-tongue. But, books in Yiddish (Yiddish in the modern sense of the word) began to be written exclusively for children only at the end of the nineteenth century, a process which did not occur in the German-speaking countries but in Eastern Europe. Before such time, the majority of texts in Judeo-German, traditionally designed " f o r women and children," in fact addressed a variety of audiences. The rise of Modern Yiddish, and with it a distinctive textual activity for children and youth, lay therefore beyond the scope of our research. The fourth difficulty concerned the question of the addressee. Until the middle of the nineteenth century the Jewish cultural system was characterized by the existence of blurred boundaries between the literary system and other textual systems. The boundaries between the adult and the children's systems remained blurred until the end of the nineteenth century. More often than not, the same texts were published for adults as well as for children. Literary material

which was first published by various Jewish periodicals was later recycled in the form of "Readers"—Lesebücher for children. Books for adolescents were read by adults as well. We have good reason to assume that the "Readers" frequendy served as reading material for adult Jews, especially those who had no formal education. They read the texts for children as means of changing their mode of life and paving their way into a modern and different world. Also in this case we adhered to the internal point of view. Regardless of their actual addressees, we took into account all the texts which were considered at their time textsfor children.

Constructing the field The attitude towards the texts for Jewish children was ambivalent from the beginning, despite the deep involvement of almost every Jewish community in their publication. The texts were not regarded as having significant cultural value, nor of being worthy of preservation. Consequendy, many of them failed to survive their own era, and have never been systematically collected by any of the Judaica libraries. Even a partial collection of the texts for Jewish children as a category in itself did not exist anywhere. O u r first mission was to construct the "library" of texts. In other words, to reconstruct the field. At first we estimated that the total number of tides would amount at most to a couple of hundreds. We studied various sources in order to unearth the texts: meta-bibliographies, bibliographies of comprehensive Judaica and Hebraica collections, bibliographies of children's books, catalogues of smaller or specialized collections, including catalogues of second-hand book shops and exhibitions, lists of books prohibited by the National Socialists, advertisements, archives of the various publishing houses, of the Kibutzim, libraries of Old People's homes, private collections, lists of recommendation and book lists of the libraries of Jewish organizations and schools, Rabbis' suggestions for purchasing books, recommendations of departments of municipal libraries, and lists of reviews by Jewish organizations. As we already knew, the documentation of tides of German and Hebrew books for Jewish children was to say the least, poor and inadequate. We had to visit the libraries and search them in order to find the books we were looking for. Sometime, we found them in basements and boxes under trash—literally. Journeys to private and public libraries, archives and collections could not be spared either. We made every possible effort to ensure the comprehensive nature of our sources and have tried to trace and to cover all possible catalogues and other sources. When we begin to encounter frequent recurrences of repetitions in our sources, we concluded that our corpus is to a large extent reconstructed, but of course not completed. After a thorough inspection of the various sources, we realized that we are talking about many hundreds of titles. Once numerous doubtful cases were discarded, we concluded that our corpus encompasses 800 Hebrew or bilingual tides and 1,600 German tides. Added to this core of texts are a considerable

number of texts which were privately distributed, mainly by the various Jewish youth movements, as well as part of the oral tradidon, which was put into writing, in an effort to establish a Jewish-German folklore.

Some working hypothesis in light of the construction of the field The dimensions of the reconstructed corpus were more than puzzling. We never expected to find so many titles, especially after we had compared the data concerning the number of Jewish pupils with the number of books published. There were periods during which the number of published books was almost equivalent to the number of children who attended Jewish schools. In other words: there were almost as many books as children addressed by the texts. Officially the texts addressed Jewish children who came to study in the various new Jewish schools. According to Eliav, the average number of pupils in the Berlin school, between the years 1800-1813, did not exceed 55. The school in Breslau which was opened in 1791 had 120 pupils in its first year, but this number declined to 90 in the second year and never went up again. The entire number of pupils in Jewish schools in 1807 (including girls) was around 440, and in 1812 about 900 children studied in the schools of the Haskalah movement. The number of Jewish pupils never exceeded a few thousands during the entire period. Moreover, it is far from clear whether, at certain periods, there were enough children whose knowledge of either Hebrew or German sufficed to make the texts legible.

How can we account for the dimensions of the corpus? I am afraid, the answer to this will have to be given in another seminar. Just briefly, let me mention that the number of books, especially those published until the middle of the nineteenth century, should not be taken as an indication of the real scope of readership (i.e., children and adolescents), but rather as a mark of the status of the texts within the various Jewish ideological movements, which regarded children's books as a social vehicle intended to achieve social goals. For German Jewry, literature for children was a means of ensuring, through texts, the appropriate socialization of the next generation. Every community facing the challenge of the child's education responded to it inter alia by the production of texts for children. These texts endeavored to offer practical solutions to the kind of socialization given to the child and to the type of identity the community wished to create. Every community and every social group offered different solutions to these two issues: The issue of identity The issue of socialization. T o my mind, the dimensions of the corpus serve primarily as an indication for the role played by the texts for Jewish children and young people in the process of the modernization of the Jewish society. This process which involved a

change of the Jewish Weltanschauung was partially made possible through the appropriation of several sectors of the German culture by the Jewish culture. In this process the texts for children functioned as a major agent and secured a certain foothold in the German world of the Jewish people. Therefore, the study of the emergence of books for children explores the motivations behind the creation of Jewish culture in Germany and its translation into practical terms. In other words, texts for children, being a vehicle for the appropriation of specific sets of values, serve as a first rate source for the study of communal values in their most pragmatic appearance.

How far has the research gone beyond these working hypotheses? The working hypothesis make it clear that years, perhaps even several generations, will be required before a comprehensive and exhaustive study of the issues involved in the project is completed. Each and every case-study we began to pursue has proven the complicated and intricate nature of the project. Be it Ran HaCohen's M. A. thesis on Bible Stories for Jewish Children during the Haskalah in Germany: The Bible, Histoiy and Models of German Children's Literature (HaCohen 1994), Nitsa Ben-Ari's Ph. D. on Historical Images and the Emergence of a New National Literary System. Jewish-German Historical Novels for Children and Adolescents (Ben-Ari 1993), or Rima Schichmanter's M. A. thesis Textsfor Children and Youth as Ideological Agents. Case Study: Children Youth Uterature of the Liberal Stream in German Jewry, 1933-1938 (Schichmanter 1995), Anne Völpel's research on Deutschsprachige jüdische Mädchenliteratur als medium jüdischer und weiblicher Emanzipation (Völpel 1996)—my own work on the translation of the German writer Joachim Heinrich Campe into Hebrew (Shavit 1992)—all research projects conducted to date have raised new questions, pointed to processes which have never previously been studied. There is good foundation to believe that the field established by our project will give rise to additional case-studies which still lie concealed and wait to be unveiled. So far our research project has reconstructed the field by, so-to-speak, building a unique "library" of the existing Hebrew-Jewish-German texts for children, by initiating the in-depth study of a few case-studies, and by working on the first historical scheme of the development of books for Jewish children. The "library" we built is obviously first of all a unique monument to Jewish life in Germany, but more than this, it is a goldmine for further studies in the field of German-Jewish cultural history. Although our historical analysis is in its opening stages, what we have already accomplished clearly indicates the centrality of the corpus at stake to the history of Jewish culture. It provides new research options for studying German-Jewish culture from a unique perspective, while offering a special perspective on the study of Jewish-German cultural relationships. 1 Prof. Zohar Shavit, The Unit for Culture Research, School of Cultural Studies, Tel Aviv University, Ramat Aviv, 69978, Israel. Tel: 03-6409188, Fax: 03-6422141. E - m a i l : [email protected]

References Ben-An, N. 1993. Historical Images and the Emergence of a New National Literary System. JewishGerman Historical Novels for Children and Adolescents. (Ph. D. Diss.; Hebr. + Engl, summary) Tel Aviv University, School of Cultural Studies. Eliav, M. 1960. Jewish Education in Germany in the Period of Enlightenment and Emancipation. Jerusalem: Jewish Agency Publications. HaCohen, R. 1994. Bible Stories for Jewish Children during the Haskalah in Germany: The Bible, History and Models of German Children's Literature. (M. A. Diss.; Hebr. + Engl, summary) Tel Aviv University, Department of Poetics and Comparative Literature. Katz,J. 1973. Out of the Ghetto. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. , 1935. Die Entstehung der Judenassimilation in Deutschland und deren Ideologie. (Diss.) Frankfurt a.M. Ofek, U. 1979. Hebrew Children's Literature: The Beginning (Hebr.). Tel Aviv, University Publishing Projects. Rappel, D. 1986. "Jewish Education in Germany in the Mirror of School Books" (Hebr.). In Sefer Aviad. Jerusalem: Mossad ha-Rav Kook, 205-216. Schichmanter, R. 1995. Textsfor Children and Youth as Ideological Agents. Case Study: Children's Youth Literature of the Libera! Stream in German Jewry, 1933—1938. (M. A. Diss.; Hebr. + Engl, summary) Tel Aviv University: Department of Poetics and Comparative Literature. Shavit, Z. 1988. "From Friedländer's Lesebuch to the Jewish Campe: The Beginning of Hebrew Children's Literature in Germany." Leo Baeck Year Book 33, 385—415. , 1992. "Literary Interference between German and Jewish-Hebrew Children's Literature during the Enlightenment: the Case of Campe." Poetics Today 13:1, 41-61. Shavit, Z. und Ewers, H.-H. in Zusammenarbeit mit HaCohen, R. und Völpel, Α. 1996. Deutsch-jüdische Kinder- und Jugendliteratur. Von der Haskalah bis 1945. Die deutsch- und hebräischsprachigen Schriften des deutschsprachigen Raums. Ein bibÜographisches Handbuch. Stuttgart: Metzler Verlag. Völpel, A. 1996. "Deutschsprachige jüdische Mädchenliteratur als Medium jüdischer und weiblicher Emanzipation." In Inszenierungen von Weiblichkeit. Weibliche Kindheit und Adolesyeny in der Literatur des 20. Jahrhunderts. Ed. G. Lehnert. Wiesbaden: Westdeutscher Verlag, 235-255.

H Y P O T E X T S OF LEA G O L D B E R G ' S S O N N E T S AHABATAH

SHEL

TERĒZA

DI

M0N

M A . ENCARNACIÔN VARELA Universidad de Granada, Spain O n reading Lea Goldberg's poems on Tereza de Mon we may feel that they remind us of other works, because of their form, content and personality of the main female character. Julia Kristeva explained this several decades ago: Tout texte se construit comme mosaïque de citations, tout texte est absorption et tranformation d'un autre texte. A la place de la notion d'intersubjectivité s'installe celle d'intertextualité, et le langage poétique se lit, au moins, comme double. (Kristeva 1967: 146) Jorge Luis Borges said: El libro no es un ente incomunicado, es una relaciôn, es un eje de innumerables relaciones. (Nota sobre—hacia—Bernard Shaw, OC, 747). A form of comparison among literary texts is therefore the analysis of intertextuality (according to Kristeva) or transtextuahty (according to Gérard Genette), in other words, of those elements that relate certain texts with others. The sonnets of the Hebrew writer take two kinds of direcdons: a) on one hand the form and content of some troubadour songs, b) on the other hand the structure of some novels from the 19th century {Madame Bovary, Ana Karenina, La Regenla etc.) and above all their main female characters. Following this double direction I shall try to analyse two series of texts that could contribute certain elements to Lea Goldberg's poetry. I mainly support my work on the methodology of Genette and consider hypertextuality as one of the transtextual forms according to which a relation exists between a previous text (hypotext) and another subsequent one (hypertext) (Genette 1989: 14). We shouldn't speak about an "imitated text" and an "imitator text" because there are always some changes. If we ever consider two absolutely similar texts (for instance Borges's story Pierre Menard autor delQuijote) it is not identical to El Quijote since with the time historical and social circumstances have changed and so has the point of view of the readers, therefore changing the context the hypertext has already achieved a new meaning. At any rate, the Lea Goldberg sonnets are not an imitation. We find different hypotextual stratum in them and at the same time new elements brought forward by the hebrew poetess.

Hypotext A Perhaps, the oldest stratum is the troubadour songs of the Comtessa de Dia (12th -13 t h century). Troubadour poetry in those centuries was written in provençal language by authors of known idendty; Mardn de Riquer exhaustively collected 2,542 works of these troubadours (Martin de Riquer 1983). One of their main themes is love expressed through a genre called causé. The courtly love song is conceived for the service of a lady, its core is love alwaysfrom a man to a woman. In a background of feudal reladons the concepts of "fidelity", "betrayal" and "crime" are applicable to love relationships as well, therefore there are many topics throughout: a) The woman is always married and is her husband's property, she has married him out of self-interest. b) There are a lot of obstacles for the lover to get close to the lady. c) Love relationships between man and woman are similar to those between a lord and a vassal: she is "the lord" and he is "the vassal", and this element is so conventional that although the poet may be a great lord and the woman may have a lower social status, he will consider himself her vassal. d) Love starts being "platonic" but very often it becomes a fit of passion that can reach adultery. Nevertheless, it is seen as a more spiritual love than a marital one because it was born out of a true affection and free will, not out of self-interest. At the same time its clandestine nature and its risks make that love stronger and purer because of the sufferings endured. Among those troubadours there is a woman, the Comtessa de Dia. Her identity is not clear but she is associated with Beatriz, Count William I of Poitiers wife, she wrote four poems to her lover Raimbaut d'Aurenga. The matter of her identity is not important now, the most interesting thing is, in this case, that it is a woman who writes her love poems to a man·. Q'ieu n'ai chausit un pro e gen per cui pretz meillur'e genssa, lare et adreig e conoissen, on es sens e conoissenssa...1 Fin joi me don'alegranssa per qu'eu chan plus gaiamen, e no m'o teing a pensanssa ni a negun penssamen, car sai que son a mon dan fais lausengier e truan...2

Abjoi et abjoven m'apais IV. Finjoi me don'alegranssa I.

Ben volria mon cavallier tener un ser e mos bratz nut, q'el s'en tengra per ereubut sol q'a lui fezes cosseillier...3 ...Bels amies, avinens e bos, cora us tenrai e mon poder?4 Sometimes she feels unhappy because of his betrayal or his lack of love: A chantar m'er de so q'ieu no volria... vas lui no m val merces ni cortesia, ni ma beltatz, ni mos pretz, ni mos sens, c'atressi m sui enganad'e traia...5 C'om cuoill maintas vetz los balais ab q'el mezeis se balaia.6 There are common characteristics in all provençal love poems: -Praise to the beloved, his worth and his beauty. -Sufferings caused by that love. - C o n t e m p t for gossip and mockery of people. -Declaration of passionate love and desire for total possession. This is a cliché, we can even find it in Shir ha-Shinm. Nevertheless, it is now the woman who takes on the role of vassal of her own free will before her beloved. Feudal relations continue to exist but the other way round.

Hypotext Β Several centuries later, in the 16th century, a collection of poems by Louise Labe appeared. Louise Labé was a cultured young woman from Lyon. Her beauty, knowledge of Greek and Latin Literature, Italian, skill to play the lute and to fence combined made her an attractive Renaissance figure. Her parents forced her to marry a rich industrialist from Perpignan, but she seemed to be in love with the young and handsome courtier Oliver de Magny. Louise dedicated 24 sonnets to him, the first one in Italian, a linguistic sign of overture that introduces the lyrical genre from Petrarch's tradition. Louise Labé expressed the same topics as Comtessa de Dia, with a strong lyricism, in these sonnets. The first one is as follows: Non havria Ulysse ο qualunqu'altro mai Piú accorto fu, da quel divino aspetto Pien di grade, d'honor et di rispetto Sperato quai i'sento affani e guai.

‫ג‬ 4 5 6

Estât ai en gnu cossirierW. Idem. III. A chantar m 'r de so q 'ieu no volria I. Abjoietabjovenm'apaisW.

Pur, Amour, co i begli occhi tu fatt'hai Tal piaga dentro al mio innocente petto, Di cibo et di calor già tuo ricetto, Che rimedio non v'è si tu n'el dai. Ο sorte dura, che mi fa esser quale Punta d'un Scorpio, et domandar riparo Contr'el velen' dall'istesso animale. Chieggio li sol' ancida questa noia, N o n estingua el désir a me si caro, Che mancar non potrà ch'i' non mi muoia.

Here there are new elements: - A more sophisticated form (sonnets) and two different languages (Italian and French). -Cultural, literary and mythological references (Ulysses, Venus, Mars, Diana, Mercury etc.). When Louise Labé was abandonned by her lover she wrote a will in 1565 leaving all her wealth to the poor and—according to her biographers—she retired to the country and without the will to live she died when she was 42 years old. Maybe Louise Labé's sonnets are a hypertext of Provençal songs by the Comtessa de Dia (but this is only a supposition). I am almost convinced that the well-known poems of Louise Labé are the basic hypotextual stratum of Lea Goldberg's sonnets on Tereza de Mon. Before the beginning of these poems the Hebrew writer explains: Tereza de Mon was a French noble woman who lived near Avignon at the end of the 16lh century. When she was about forty years old she fell in love with her children's young Italian teacher and dedicated 41 sonnets to him. When the young man left her house she burnt her poems and departed to a convent. Only the legend, transmitted throughout generations, remains.

We can find the usual topics in the utterances spoken by Tereza de Mon in the sonnets (now in Hebrew), but new elements are too introduced: 1. There is a change in the attitude of the main character: here she does not want to be in love with the teacher, but that love envelopes her like a fatality. ,‫קללה נמרצת זו ש ב ה קללתי‬ ,‫ש ה ת מ י מ י ם קוראים לה אהבה‬ .‫ לו תדע מ ה בעיני'שפלתי‬,‫הה‬ ‫איני רוצה כל לילה בחלום‬ ‫ איני רוצה לרעד‬,‫לראות אותך‬ ‫ איני רוצה‬.‫ב ה פ ת ח דלתי‬ .‫כל «ש ע ו ת היום‬τ ‫עליך‬ ·Η ν τ ‫ל ןח ש ב‬-

‫איכה ב ש ל ו ח י ה א ד י ש ה‬ , ‫ ח כ מ ה ב י ט ח ת‬,‫חייתי קדם‬ . ‫ובלילות לא בעתני פ ח ד‬ ‫ י‬,‫אך מ ה מ ת ק ו רגעי עזבתנו יחד‬ τ ·‫·ך‬

ν vT'

τ* ‫וי‬

2. The rejection of her will make her worry about gossip (unlike the two other women, who wanted their love, took the risk, and accepted the consequences): ‫ו ב מ ב ט ן הער ש ל נערות‬ ‫בנות־שבע־עשרה איני רוצה לראות‬ ·‫שחוקנצחון ובוז ועקיצה‬ !‫ב א ה ב ה הזאת איני רוצה‬ 3. There are many references to the different social status between her and her lover: ‫ולו אותי גרשת ל מ ד ב ר‬ ,‫ותפקירני לבדידות וצער‬ ‫ לחןתו"!ער‬,‫ לרעב‬,‫למות‬ ,,‫כאברהם את ש פ ח ת ו הגר‬ •τ τ ‫י ן‬ ν ττ ‫ ן‬- ‫ן‬ ,‫יך דסלבי נגר‬3‫ לעי‬,‫לו‬ ,‫ ה ת ע ל ל ת בי כבפילגש‬,‫לו‬ ,‫ליא כך היה מ ת ק ו מ ם הרגש‬ .‫ומר‬ TT ‫מריייבש‬ "Τ · I ‫היה י‬ TT ‫כך‬ Ρ τ ‫לא‬ ,‫ אבל אני לך גבירה רמה‬... .‫שמה‬ ‫לשוא ··את‬ ‫ל ··ש א ת‬τ ‫תעז‬ ‫שלא‬ν Τ I IT‫־‬ ·· τ We can see Biblical references instead of the mythological ones of Louise .4 Labé: ‫צר‬5?‫ ליא קם בי רוח ל‬,‫אכן‬ ‫ למעני‬,‫השמיש בגבעון‬ .‫בא;לון ירדו ליא עמד‬ 5. There are also references to the different age gaps between the lovers: ... ‫ בתלתלי מכסיף כבר ח ו ט ש י ב ה‬... ...‫ מהירחופז עבר עלי זמני‬... ...‫ לבלוב ש ק ד מ ו ל שיבתו ש ל זית‬... ,‫ האם לארץ אמישילך בטל‬... ‫ב ת‬V‫ה‬V‫ה א ו‬τ ‫רוח‬ ‫ש ל ־‬V ‫ידה‬ Τ Τ‫שרק‬ Γ ? ‫ת ד ע מ ה רך בו בד צעיר מ ע ל‬

V

We don't observe the lover-vassal in Tereza de Mon's poems that we can still find in Louise Labé's Renaissance poems. Tereza feels superior to her lover: in social status and maturity.

Neither does she desire to love, love has appeared in her life as a problem: "My heart is fire and my mind is ice", she says.

Hypotext C From the 16th century to the 20 th , when Lea Goldberg wrote her works, several social, political and economical changes have taken place. With reference to Literature some great realistic and burgeois novels have been published. Concepts of social class are now a decisive key in determining behaviour, concepts of morality and immorality have changed substantially and each one of these novels show a different focus as regards to the adultery committed by its female characters. With reference to Gustave Flaubert, who hated bourgeois society and the family institution—the basis of that society—, Emma Bovary is a woman who reacts against the burgeois stablishment through adultery, looking for the pleasure and freedom, that she associates with the aristocratic class. The Spaniard Leopoldo Alas "Clarin", author of La Regenta, who is a defender of traditional morality, attacks the corrupt clergy and the licentious aristocracy through the female protagonist of his novel, Ana Ozores. Ana is a vietim of both clergy and aristocracy like Emma Bovary was a victim of the bourgeoisie. There are other similar novels: Ana Karenina, for example. They have similar structure with some constant elements running throughout: a) A married woman dissatisfied with her marital life who throws herself into the arms of one or several lovers. b) Those lovers (a corrupt priest, a frivolous soldier etc) are everything their husbands are not, the latter represent order and morality. Did Lea Goldberg have knowledge of those novels? I think she knew Ana Karenina and Madame Bovary, but I am almost sure that she did not read La Regenta because Spanish literature was too far beyond her reach. Nevertheless, Tereza de Mon is more similar to Ana Ozores (La Regenta) than to any of the other characters, why? Here there could be a kind of relationship that Alejandro Cioranescu calls circulation relations (Cioranescu 1964). In all probability, there were not contact relations but there was a background where Ana Karenina and Madame Bovary were "models". It is not strange that Clarin and Lea Goldberg reached a similar female character by drawing up those models: an unhappy woman trapped between a guilty and involuntary love and her own integrity, social, andfamily duties. In both novels there is a dramatic ending. Lea Goldberg preferred a more conventional ending, like Louise Labé: Tereza de Mon burnt her poems and retires to a convent (just as Louise Labé leaves her wealth to poor, retires to the country and awaits death). Tereza feels the same inner struggle as Ana Karenina and Ana Ozores, i.e. the struggle between an adulterous passion and fidelity to their social class, family institution and their own morality criterion.

With reference to Lea Goldberg's poems there is a new fundamental element that she repeats as a leit motiv in the sonnets and in many other poems: the age difference between man and woman as one of the main obstacles of their love. Lea Goldberg not only has incorporated burgeois values dealing with the fact that a lady must be dignified and not lower herself to an adulterous love with a man from a lower class but also refers to a personal problem: the absence of coincidence in time/age between two people that could love one another. It is known that Lea Goldberg loved a man much older than herself, the poet Abraham ben Yishaq to whom she dedicated some writings. She had always great admiration for him but their close friendship was not lasting. It is said that she also loved a man much younger than her. At any rate all her biographers agree on the fact that her love life suffered from bad timing (Cf. Ha-gehinom ha-me'ushar, Pits'e 'oheb etc., in Muqdam u-me'uhar, 1988). I think in these poems on Tereza de Mon the author tried to evoke this bad timing. It is a new and personal element added to a quite dealt with subject in Literature, and now according to the criteria of a 20 th century woman.

Conclusions 1. I have reached the conclusion that there are three hypotextual strata in Teresa de Mon's poems. a) The first one could be those of the Comtessa de Dia. Perhaps Lea Goldberg did not know them, but they could be hypotexts of Louise Labé's sonnets at the same time. b) The second one is the sonnets of Louise Labé. I am sure that Lea Golberg had knowledge of them and got inspiration from them. This songbook was well known, Goldberg had a wide knowledge of French and Italian culture and both works are very similar. c) The quoted novels could contribute to the modern social elements found in Lea Goldberg's poems. 2. From the point of view of literary criticism I have found the following phenomena: a) A reactivation of genres (Genette 1989: 258). Lea Goldberg brings an old 16th century genre to life and she needed to offer an explanation previously since a series of love sonnets is unusual in the 20 th century. b) Since we find a mixture of troubadour, Renaissance and other recent hypotexts we can say that there is a "contamination ofgenre/' (Genette 1989: 259). c) In any case, it is about a transposition •with as much reference to the form as to the content. It is formal with reference to hjpotext C because we have sonnets as opposed to novels. There is no formal transposition with reference to hypotext Β because both works have the same form, but there is thematic transposition since Tereza de Mon's poems are enriched with new modern connotadons. Some of them are typical of a burgeois novel, others come from the cultural background of the author (biblical references instead of the classical ones), another language (Hebrew) and references to Lea Goldberg's personal problems. Therefore we can speak of semantic transformation. This transformation

is homodyegetic with reference to Louise Labé's poems (diegetdc being the time-space background, which is pracdcally the same), and heterodyegetic with reference to the more recent hypotexts. The age of characters which is not usually a diegetic variant is very important here due to the personal factor that—we presume—the author expresses about herself. We can say the same with reference to the different social class. Perhaps because of these reasons the poetic tempo in Lea Goldberg's poems is slow and sad as opposed to the other songbooks which have a quicker and happier tone. The sad connotation comes from bypotext C and the life experience of the poetess.

Bibliography Borges, J. L. 1987. Obras Complétas. Buenos Aires.

Cioranescu, A. 1964. Principios de Literatura Comparada. La Laguna. Comtessa de Dia. Abjoi et abjoven m'apais / Fin joi me don'alegranssa / Estât ai engreu cossirier / A cbantar m'er de so q'ieu no volria. In Martin de Riquer, 1983. Los trovadores. Historia literariay textos. Vol. II, Barcelona, 791-802. Genette, G. 1979. Introduction à l'arcbitexte. Paris. , 1989. Palimpsestos. La literatura en segundo grado. Madrid. Goldberg, L. 1988. Ababatab sbel Teresa de Mon. In Muqdam u-meubar; Tel Aviv. Spanish translation: Pérez Valverde, M. 1994. Temprano y tarde II, Granada: Universidad de Granada.

Guillén, C. 1985. Entre 10 unoy 10 diverso. Introduction a la literatura comparada. Barcelona. Kristeva, J. 1967. "Le mot, le dialogue, et le roman." Critique 239,146-160.

Labé, L. 1986. Oeuvres complètes. Sonnets—élégies. Débat defolie et d'amour. Paris. Preneron, P. 1996. El inßujo de Sade en Flaubert y en Clarin. Alicante: Universidad de Alicante.

Riquer, M. de 1983. Los trovadores. Historia literariay textos. Barcelona, vol I. Shaabi, A. 1992. "Ha-'ish she-Leah Goldberg ahabah." 7yamim 13-11-1992, 39-42.

Varela, M. E. 1996. De losriosde Babel. Estudios comparatives de Literatura Hebrea. Granada: Universidad de Granada.

T H E GERMAN-JEWISH W R I T E R ARNOLD ZWEIG AND HIS RELATION T O JUDAISM MONIKA ZEMKE Humboldt Universität zu Berlin, Germany

Arnold Zweig (1887-1968) was one of the outstanding German writers of the 20 th century. He should be mentioned together with other great personalities of German literature such as Thomas and Heinrich Mann or Herrmann Hesse. But he has always been an author whose views and whole philosophy of life were disputed among his contemporaries and are still under discussion today, especially in Germany and in Israel. The reason for the different approach towards Zweig in East and West Germany seems to be located in the past, i.e. the prominent role he played (or was supposed to play) within the framework of the political system of East Germany. (He was for ex. President of the PEN-Center, president of the Academy of Arts and the Writer's Association and member of the Volkskammer, the East German parliament.) The causes for the—partially very strong and vehement—opposition Zweig met and still meets with in Israel lie in the past as well: the writer, who had chosen Palestine/Israel as the place for his emigration from Nazi-ruled Germany, left there only a short time after the foundation of the State of Israel and returned to Germany—and to the Eastern part of it. Until the present day many—especially Jewish—people are not willing to understand that Zweig left the young state of the Jews and went back to the country where the Jews had suffered so much. In order to find explanations for Zweig's views, ideas and activities after 1948 we have done research in Israeli and German archives for two years (as part of a project of the D F G ) about Zweig's view of Judaism, the State of Israel and the Jewish people and have interviewed contemporaries who met him in Israel and in Germany. Already in 1933, only a short period after Hider's seizure of power, Zweig left Germany and came to Israel/Palestine. O n the 9 ,h of November 1933 he explained the reason why he went there in a letter to his secretary Lily Offenstadt: it was because he wanted to take part in the building of the new society which was developing there, although it seems that already then he started to become aware of the obstacles with which he would be faced. Almost twenty years later, on the 5 th of May 1951, he wrote to his son Adam about the same matter: In 1933 I went to Israel, while the whole world was open in front of me. By doing so I wanted to provide an undisturbed youth for you and (your brother)

Michi and to spend my income for the benefit of the expelled Jews in their new homeland.

Why did Zweig choose Israel as the place of his exile? Already in his parents house he had come into contact with Zionist ideas, and afterwards he extended/intensified his knowledge in this field during a long-lasting acquaintance and correspondence with Martin Buber. From 1916 to 1918 he worked as a correspondent for the newspaper Der Jude which was edited by Buber. During World War I Zweig made the acquaintance of other personalities with a Zionist oudook, such as the artist Hermann Struck. After WW I he was an activist within the Zionist Union for Germany (ZFvD) and from 1922 till 1928 he worked as correspondent for its newspaper Jüdische Kundschau. In those years Zweig wrote some literary works dealing with Jewish topics, for ex.: the plays Avigail and Nabal, Leipzig 1913. Ritual murder in Hungary, Berlin 1914. the essays Das neue Kanaan (The New Canaan), Berlin 1925. Caliban or Politics and Passion, Potsdam 1927. collections of articles: Das ostjüdische Antlity (The Face of Eastern Jewry), Berlin 1920. Juden auf der deutschen Bühne (Jews on German Stage), Berlin 1927. the novel de Vriendt kehrt heim (de Vriendt comes home), Berlin 1932. This novel resulted from Zweig's first visit to Israel/Palestine in 1932. During his stay he heard and read about the affair around the murder of Israel de Haan and used it as raw material for his novel. (More than 60 years later this novel is still of interest for the readers public and was newly published by the Berlin Aufbau Verlag in 1996.) If one takes all the aspects mentioned above together it is not surprising that Zweig decided to go to Palestine for his exile. Shordy before and after his arrival in Palestine/Israel Zweig was full of optimism and was convinced that he would be able to play an important role in the intellectual development of the Jishuv. But already some months later he realised that his influence on the cultural and intellectual life there was very limited, because he had been and still was a German writer, and his medium of literary expression was the German language—and this language was scorned as the language of the Nazis. Zweig would have had to learn Hebrew in order to express his ideas in this language instead, but because of his rapid loss of eyesight he was not able to learn such a complicated language. There was another reason which prevented him from becoming a successful author in Palestine and caused him a lot of problems: the left-wing-liberal world oudook he acquired by his personal experience as a soldier in WW I. This political position moved him to support the idea of negotiations between Jews and Arabs in order to solve their problems. It also brought him to found the "Liga Victory" (Liga V) in 1941 to support the Soviet Union in her struggle against Hider's armies.

Within this framework one also has to see the foundation of the journal Orient which more or less followed the patterns of the German Weltbühne. The spirit of the articles published in it was left-wing-liberal, and so it had were many vehement opponents. Their reactions went so far that some of them burnt down the newspaper stands which sold the Orient. They also threatened the printers and finally succeeded in destroying one printer's house, thus as well ruining the journal. Zweig was also personally attacked: O n the evening of May 30 th 1942 in the cinema "Esther" there was a meeting taking place. It was organised by Liga V — activists to coordinate and strengthen the support for the Soviet Union. Zweig was one of the speakers. Suddenly Betar-people broke into the hall and attacked the people inside, among them Zweig. Afterwards there were rumours that they had done this because Zweig intended to speak in German, but it was more likely an attack on the left-wing orientation of the audience. If any of you should be interested—I have one original contemporary source with me which gives a very lively description of that evening. This evening was the end of Zweig's attempts to influence the cultural and political life of Palestine/Israel. At the same time Zweig was deeply involved in writing, although very little of it was published then. He wrote: Bilan£ der deutschen Judenheit (Balance/Survey of German Jewry), essay, Amsterdam 1934; The Living Thoughts of Spinoza, essay, New Y o r k / T o r o n t o 1939 and The Axe of Wandsbek 1943—first published in German 1947—in Stockholm. The novel The Axe... later became the basis for a play and a film. Its story is about a butcher who once performs the duties of the hangman—who has fallen ill—and kills some opponents of the Nazi regime in charge of this regime. Afterwards his whole life is ruined. This novel played a central role in the work of Zweig during his stay in Palestine, because of its topic, and because it was first published in Hebrew translation and only later in the German original version. Many literary critics share the opinion that Zweig's description of the living conditions in Germany under Nazi rule was very realistic and sensitive although he was writing from a great distance. Almost nothing else out of his writings was published in Hebrew during his stay in Palestine/Israel. It seems to be obvious that the facts and events named above contributed to his decision to return to Germany after the fall of the Nazi regime. It is self-evident that many Jewish friends of Zweig did not understand why he returned to Germany and left the state of the Jews behind, but if one takes a closer look at the personality and the biography of the author one discovers that he wanted to return to the public of his readers which admired him very much before 1933. It is hard to be a writer without readers. But even if we put all the negadve aspects of his stay in Palestine together— the return to Germany was not an easy decision for him. He hesitated for three years and tried to find out whether he would find opportunities in other countries.

Groups of friends from Prague and from Paris are calling me, to Berlin I am drawn by my house in Kühler Weg 9, to Suisse by my son Adam, in England I am attracted by the tax reduction there... 1

Some time later Zweig received the message that Great Britain would not extend a visa to him as a "Palestinian Writer." As for his former house, which meanwhile was situated in the British sector of Berlin, he learned that he would not get it back. This hurt him very deeply, especially because at the time the widow of a Nazi general was living in it and was allowed to stay there. As far as the United States were concerned—Feuchtwanger had offered him his assistance to obtain a visa there—he was put off by the growing McCarthyism and its implications. As a result of all this the author was very glad to hear that in the Eastern part of Germany he would be welcome and was offered a house and everything else he needed. So, in 1948 Zweig left Israel and came to East Berlin. O f course one could come to the conclusion that Zweig not only left Israel behind but his Zionist ideas and ideals as well, but if one takes a closer look at the two decades of his life he spent in Berlin it becomes clear that during this whole period he was always closely related to Jewish problems and with Israel. In the literary field there are many examples to illustrate this point: He edited the memories of Hilde Huppert, a Holocaust survivor, and helped her to publish it in Germany in 1948, accompanied by a preface of his.2 He also took care that two of his plays about Jewish topics (RitualMurder and Napoleon at Yafo) were staged in 1956, despite oppossing voices. In his last completed novel Traum ist teuer (Dreaming is expensive) which was published in 1962, he described Jewish characters and Zionist ideas. For ex. one of the characters says: "Once a Zionist, always a Zionist." In the fragment Das Eis bricht (The ice is breaking), 1965, he intended to bring the central hero back to Israel and was confronted with strong resistance from the Comm. Party of Israel.3 Furthermore, in many articles and speeches Zweig mentioned/dealt with Jewish issues. He used nearly each possible opportunity to express his opinion about this topic. Sometimes he even announced his protest, for ex. regarding the trial against the Jewish doctors in Moscow 1952/53, but the East German censor authority did not allow those documents to reach the eye of the public. 4 Zweig also struggled for a new edition of some of his works on Jewish topics like Caliban or the Balance of German Jewry, but he did not succeed. He also tried to publish his book Friendship with Freud in East Germany, but in vain. Only a few weeks before his death, in the spring of 1968, his correspondence with Sigmund Freud was published in Frankfurt/M. (Western Germany).

1 2 3 4

From his letter to Ludwig Marcuse, 27.11.46. Fahrt Acheron. T h e corresponding document is with me. For ex., Letter to Feuchtwanger, dadng from 24.1.53.

In addition to the aspects mentioned above one comes to the conclusion that Zweig saw himself as an historian and as an ambassador of Israel. In accordance with the first role he wrote a long essay "Outline of the history of the State of Israel." It should have been published in 1949, but came out only in 1952, in an abridged version. Regarding his self-assigned role as ambassador of Israel we find evidence especially in his correspondence with Feuchtwanger and with his son Adam. Before the Berlin Wall was erected in 1961, Zweig was in constant and rather close contact with the consuls of Israel and with other Israeli citizens w h o visited him (documents with me), exchanged letters with him and sent him material from Israeli literature and press. From time to time Zweig tried to help Israelis or German Jews w h o had problems with the East German authorities. He used all his contacts for them and for some regime-opponents like Harich, Janka and others as well.5 He became a member of the Jewish Community of Berlin in 1948 and stayed a member until his death in 1968, although it was not always easy to be a member, esp. after the Slansky trial. During the first years after the foundation of the State of Israel Zweig looked for opportunities to support the economy of the young state. For exampie, in a "Memoir" he sent to the East German rulers in 1948 which had the aim of improving the relations between the German and the Israeli peoples. In this document he proposed to equip Israel with technical know-how from Germany, so to enable the state to cope with the masses of new immigrants. O n e year before his death, after the 1967 six-day-war, the East German government issued an appeal to German-Jewish intellectuals who were East German citizens in which they condemned Israel as an aggressor. They also came to Zweig and called on him to sign this appeal, but he answered: " O n e does not have to sign everything." There were and still are voices calling Zweig a "Communist in the parlor," because he sold himself to the officials/rulers of East Germany. The truth is that he made a lot of compromises in order to maintain his convenient working and living conditions, but in principle he remained a great humanist and writer, and what the Jewish philosopher Shalom Ben-Chorin called "a symbiosis of Germanism and Judaism."

I have the corresponding documents.

PART HISTORY A N D

FOUR SOCIOLOGY

BARON E D M O N D DE R O T H S C H I L D ( 1 8 4 5 - 1 9 3 4 )

HaNadiv ( T H E Τ Ο HaNassi ( T H E

FROM

BENEFACTOR) PRINCE)

ELIZABETH ANTÉBI Paris, France

Edmond de Rothschild has always been a mystery and an enigma. A mystery for the following reasons: why the youngest son of James de Rothschild (1791-1868)—the founder of the French branch of the Rothschild's financial empire and the son of the founder of the "dynasty," Mayer Amshel (1744-1812)—decided, despite the hostility of the rest of the family, to dedicate his energy, time and money to the Jewish setdements in Palestine, from 1882 on till his death in 1934? Why did he decide, at the end of 1924, to create the PICA (Palestine Jewish Colonization Association) and to defend an alternative policy (industrialization, 1 respect of Arabic neighborhoods, 2 religious education and marriage between Jews 3 ) to that of the Zionists? An enigma because a certain kind of historiography denied Baron Edmond the primordial role he played at the time of Ottoman Palestine (at least, a quarter of century before the first Zionists), and especially after the First World War, in the industrialization of Palestine under the British Mandate. 4 T o answer, in part, to this questions, we'll suggest no less than seven research directions or "trails" for investigation. Such a contradictory person as Baron Edmond will require an approach that from time to time may be intuitive, or even "impressionist," but only after putting together facts. 5 These facts are part of a "puzzle," with "pieces" that were Baron Edmond's main interests 1

2

3

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5

"Capital is the first settler," E d m o n d de Rothschild used to say to the Zionists in the 1 9 2 0 ' s 1930's. (cf. Naiditch, I. 1945. Edmond de Rothschild. Washington). H e was heard to say once, at the S D N , in the 1930's, that he was not using his energy and m o n e y to s t o p the J e w just to create the Wandering Arab. Cf. the Memories of his daughter-in-law, the wife of J a m e s , D o r o t h y de Rothschild, The Rothschild at Waddesdon Manor. L o n d o n , 1979. T h e biographies of the Barons have been scarce, and m o s d y biased; m o s t of t h e m concern his activity in Palestine between 1882-1899, w h e n he let the administrative p o w e r to the ICA, and it was believed that he would have n o m o r e influence (it was precisely the contrary): D r u c k , D . 1928. L'oeuvre du Baron Edmond de Rothschild. Paris; H e r m o n i , N . 1939. Le Baron Edmond de Rothschild (Hebr.). Tel Aviv; Kressel, E. 1950. Edmond de Rothschild (Hebr.). Tel Aviv; Margalith, I. 1957. Le Baron Edmond de Rothschild et la colonisation juive en Palestine, 1882-1899. Paris (introduction by David Ben Gurion); Sokolow, N . 1955. Personnages (Hebr.). T . l , 6 6 - 9 9 . Tel-Aviv; S i m o n Schama published an "authorized biography": Two Rothschilds and the Land of Israel. L o n d o n , 1978. But the m o s t interesting references are to be f o u n d in the b o o k of Naiditch (cf. n o t e 1) and in W o r m s e r , G . 1963. Français Israelites. Paris, especially 136-142. Cf. also Antébi, Ε . 1966. Albert Antébi (1873-1919) ou la Religion de la France. M é m o i r e de l ' E P H E , Section des Sciences Religieuses, under the direction of G é r a r d N a h o n . Paris. D o c t o r a l thesis: Edmond de Rothschild (1845-1934), a religious itinerary, to be finished.

in life: "collections," "wine," "Rembrandt," "yacht Atmah," "Archaeological researches," "pays des ancêtre/' (home of our ancestors), "settlers," "religion." 1. The first "trail" comes from a ghetto culture. The Israeli writer Amos Elon recendy wrote a book on the founder of the dynasty, Mayer Amshel. 6 He describes the ghetto as a terribly crowded place. He never talks about what was one of the most important aspects of ghetto culture: religious observance. And this "Ghetto Judaism" was not talked about. Understanding the need for "acts of faith" seems to us crucial, in analyzing the Baron's life, even if the ghetto and his influence on the "five arrows" 7 were considered a taboo. Also the idea of being protected inside the frontiers of the ghetto meant a great deal to the Baron Edmond's uncles (probably also his aunts). His own grand-mother never accepted to leave the ghetto. 8 One may presume that a nostalgia for the Judaism connected with the ghetto, as being protected against the outside world and preserving "ancestral customs" and a purity of observance was at the origin of the Baron's vision. This is evident since his main bone of contention with the Zionists was always to preserve marriages between Jews and the religious educadon of Jewish children within the family. Moreover, when it was time for Edmond de Rothschild, aged 32, to marry, he chose (in the Rothschildian tradition) a cousin; but not the most glamorous, not the most clever, just the most humble and religious, Adelheid, daughter of the most orthodox of the cousins, Willy, from the Frankfurt branch—who lived a few streets away from the Ghetto. 2. The second "trail" can be found in the anti-clerical climate ("laïcité[s]") of the 1860's-1870's, and then of the years 1905-1915, in France. The English word "secularization" does not really translate the concept of "Order and Progress," as the very influential philosopher of Positivism, Auguste Comte 9 defined it in the middle of the 19th century in France. The era of colonization gave rise to a secular crusade to impose French culture on the rest of the world —using terms like "human dignity" and, then, later on, "laïcité," as synonymous with atheism. The 1905 French law separating the Church(s) and the State was even regretted by Chief Rabbi Zadoc Kahn, as well as by Edmond de Rothschild and his brothers (who were respectively, till their death, the Heads of the Consistoire Central1,1 and of the Consistoire de Paris," for more than half a century). Being officials no more, each religion was reduced to raising its own funds for religious schools or building new synagogues.

6

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8

9 10 11

Elon, A. 1966. Founder. A portrait of the first Rothschild and his time. N e w York. Much more serious: Berghoeffer, C. W. 1922. Mayer Amshel Rothschild. Frankfurt/Main. T h e five sons of Mayer Amshel. James, the father of E d m o n d , was the youngest. T h e four others were: Amshel (1773-1855) in Frankfurt, Salomon (1774-1855) in Vienna [he was the father of Betty, the mother of E d m o n d ] , Nathan (1777-1836) in London, Carl (1788-1855) in Naples. H e was four years old when she died. But she was a legend in Frankfurt. Three of the uncles lived their youth in the ghetto, specially the uncle-and-great-father Salomon, (and the aunt-andgreat-mother Caroline, w h o frequendy visited the house of her daughter Betty), and the very religious Amshel of Frankfurt. E d m o n d was ten when almost all of them died. Auguste Comte (1798-1857), Father of the Social Sciences (Sociology). Alphonse de Rothschild (1856-1905). Gustave de Rothschild (1858-1911).

As a schoolboy at Condorcet High School, where the French bourgeoisie sent their children, Edmond de Rothschild was in contact with all kinds of people, even those in the future Ligue des Patnotes—an andsemitic movement, very active during the period of the Dreyfus Affair. Being a generation younger than his brothers, he never grew up knowing the monarchy. He grew up in the world of the Second Republic and the Second Empire and was a soldier ("Garde Nadonal") in the first Franco-Prussian War. He respected the far leftist Jean Jaurès, founder of the newspaper L'Humanité (1904), because of his defense of Dreyfus. And it seems that Baron Edmond even supported this future Communist newspaper. He also knew very well the far leftist founders of the French sociology, Émile Dürkheim 12 and Marcel Mauss.13 This perhaps explains why he felt at ease with those who settled the kibboutyim. "All this is Israel," he once said to his employee Henry Franck, when visiting Palestine in 1914 and when he was received with hissing and booing in kibboutz Degania). As a "laïc" (if we here apply the first definition of the word as synonymous with tolerance and progress), Edmond de Rothschild supported research in electricity by engineers like Marcel Desprez, employed the great scientist and historian of science Emile Meyerson, founded the Institut Henri Poincaré, the Institut de Biologie physico-chimique, the pr^-Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, the Casa Velázquez in Madrid, the French Institute in London. As an "anti-laïc" (when laïc means "anti-clerical"), he supported the construction of several synagogues 14 and was, from 1911 on, an active President of the Consistoire de Paris, acting in close connection with the Chief Rabbi Israël Levi.15 3. Our third "trail" of research can be found in connection with his religious tutor Albert Cohn (1814—1877) and, then, with Zadoc Kahn, 16 and the religious revival of the second half of the 19th Century—the Wissenschaft der Judentum, first, and, then, the Société des Etudes Juives. When Chaim Weizmann was raising money for the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, Edmond de Rothschild first gave money instead for the opening of a Graduate Institute ofJudaic Studies. Judaism has not had its last word. T h e Jewish religion has never been disconnected from the rest of the world. O n the contrary, our Laws are based upon the prosperity of all humanity. T h e Jewish religion, which was devoted to a struggle against slavery later created very precise laws to regulate our daily life and work and is the most appropriate to contribute to a new world order. Only in Palestine, where our present is so closely linked with our past, will our faith

12

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15

16

Émile Dürkheim (1858-1917), first theoretician of the sociological sciences. Cf. Strenski, I. 1977. Dürkheim and the jews of France. Chicago, London: The University of Chicago Press. Marcel Mauss (1872-1950), sociologist and anthropologist, precursor of ethnology, in his book L'Essai sur te don (1925). Chasseloup-Laubat (1913), by the architect Bechman, on the byzantine model, and Saint-Isaure, in Paris, and at Boulogne (1911), the litde synagogue in the front of his house built by Pontremoli. Israël Levi (1856-1939) became the Chief Rabbi of the Consistoire in 1919. He was one of the four sons-in-law of Zadoc Kahn. Zadok Kahn (1839-1905) was been the key-man for E d m o n d de Rothschild's becoming involved in the Palestinian adventure of the setdements.

be able to show the way to others for the future of all humanity, and to establish new kinds of relationships between human beings. 17

With the new scientific approach being used for religious texts, 18 the Bible became a history book, subject to controversy. From an historical perspective, now it was possible to claim that Palestine belonged to the Jews. Did Edmond de Rothschild think so? We can assume it partly, if we remember the words he used to repeat: "Never talk about it, always think to it."19 And if we remember that when the question of a partition of Palestine was brought up, referred to by Naiditch, the Baron felt hostile to such a "solution." 4. The fourth "trail" of investigation could be the influence of those French rabbis (Zadoc Kahn and his four sons-in-law, specially Israël Levi), who were against the concept of no religion (or atheism). The idea of assimilation was often discussed at this time. But, if one reads cautiously the speeches of Zadoc Kahn and his biography by J. Weill,20 it appears clear that assimilation, as seen by Kahn, is not in contradiction with a "reasonable Zionism," as one of the solutions for the Jew to preserve his religion. Another solution (emigration to the New World) was, for example, proposed by the baron de Hirsch, competitor and rival of Baron Edmond. 5. The fifth "trail" was suggested by a cousin of the Baron, Myriam Rothschild: she remembers, in her book 21 the collection-mania of the family. Edmond de Rothschild collected one of the most beautiful collections of drawings and engravings that he bequeathed to the Louvre Museum. The collection's director, S. Coblentz, writes: "At the end of his life, he often dreamed of a room totally devoted to Rembrandt. But he always delayed putting into effect, arguing that, when a house is not finished, Death doesn't enter." 22 Once asked by Chaim Wei2mann why he supported so much archeological research, in particular, to find the ancient tombs of the Kings of Judah, the Baron answered that he was excited not by the research in itself, but by "la possession."23 Meir Dizengoff, founder and first mayor of Tel Aviv, also remembered the day, when riding in 1893 with the Baron on the top of Mount Carmel, the Baron looked at the land all around him and ordered: "Buy it for me!." Possessing the land and what lay beneath it seems to have played a big role in the Baron's motivations. Suzanne Coblentz notes that the Baron cut down on his purchases of drawings and engravings from 1882 on, at the time when he began to buy land in Palestine. 6. The religious "trail" to explain the Baron's motivations is probably the strongest. Edmond de Rothschild was very much influenced by his religious 17 18

19

20

21

22 23

Naiditch 1945: 48. The three best-sellers of the century, as Henry Laurens remind us, were Chateaubriand (Le Génie du Christianisme, 1802), Renan (Vie de Jésus, 1863) and D r u m o n t (La France Juive, 1886). E d m o n d cites Henri Poincaré, speaking from the provinces of Alsace-Lorraine, lost by France after the 1870 War against Germany. Weill, J. 1911. Zadok Kahn. Paris. See also Ayoun, R. 1994. "Zadok Kahn, grand rabbin de France." Archives Juives 2 7 / 2 , 1 0 5 - 1 0 8 . Rothschild, M. 1983. Dear Lard Rothschild. Bird, Butterflies and History. London, Philadelphia, Rehovot. Coblentz, S. 1984. La collection d'estampes d'Edmond de Rothschild au Musée du Louvre. Paris. Weizmann wrote this words in French.

teacher, Albert Cohn, and by Zadoc Kahn, but also by Michel Erlanger and Charles Netter, 24 two of the founders of the Alliance israélite universelle (1860), the latter being at the origin (1869) of the foundation of Mikveh-Israël, the schoolfarm near Jaffa. At a very young age, the Baron was shocked by the death of his uncles and aunts, when he was ten years old, and later of his brother Salomon, when Edmond was twenty. He feared death so much in 1899 that he transmitted the direction of the setdements to the Jewish Colonization Association (ICA). Then, he directed the Palestinian Committee of the ICA, imposing three poles of colonization (school-synagogue-health centers), explaining that the first of the mitsvot was cultivating the Land of Israel. He saw to it very carefully that the kashrut and the shabbat were observed by the setders, and asked them to read only the Bible—not Shakespeare or other writers. 25 At the time of the Versailles Peace Conference (1919), he choose as his interlocutor the religious Sokolov, instead of the "atheist" Weizmann, and with the help of Sylvain Levi, obtained a rupture between the Alliance Israélite Universelle (AIU) and the Zionists. Also, when adapting the Balfour Declaration so that the French government could agree to it, Baron Edmond translated the words "National Home" by le pays des ancêtres ("the Land of our Ancestors"). And he insisted again on this formula in his very religious Testament-Speech of 1925, at the synagogue of Tel-Aviv. 26 7. The seventh and last motivating factor may be his desire to preserve the Jewish people. Once the Baron said to the Zionist leader Menahem Ussichkin: "Look, what interests you most is Ervt%. What interests me, is Israel" The work done by Baron Edmond came at a time of the bloody Russian pogroms (for him, Stoecker 27 or Pobedonotsev 28 were, at that time, much more of a worry than the French and-Dreyfusards). At the end of his life, the Nazi threat appeared. After the 1929 bloody skirmishes between Arabs and Zionists, the Baron wrote to the Chief Rabbi, Israël Levi: The Arabs are disguising their political reasons as religious ones. T h e Jews must not fall into this trap, as they did before. O u r interest consists in separating the Religious question from the Political one (Mandate or Israelit Home). Your solution is excellent, because you never overstep the religious field. At Geneva, indeed, a representative of the worldwide rabbinate must be delegated to officially present the Jewish requests. [...] This method will have two advantages: first, the Arabs will be in a weak position, because they have no religious representatives in Geneva; and, particularly, it will limit the role of the Commission, compelled to judge on a religious point of view, without inter-

24 25

26

27 28

Charles Netter (1828-1882). "Be sober and frugal, like your Arab neighbours, speak Hebrew and be humble like our Ancestors, in the respect of our religion" (1887). Remembrance was so important to Baron E d m o n d that he gave new names to his setdements in memory of those he held dear: Maskereth Batia (Memory of Betty) for Ekron, Zikron-Jacob (ReeoUecdon of James) for Samarin, and bapdzed other setdements Kefar Meir Shefaya, to h o n o r the ancestor Meyer Amshel, or Pardes Hannah, to h o n o r the mother of his wife. Kosh Pinah was the "Cornerstone, as used to say the Psalmist, of that big edifice—Israël" (Speech of Tel-Aviv. C Z A J15/7042). Confessor of the Kaiserin Augusta and " f o u n d e r " of German andsemirism. Prosecutor of the Saint-Synode in Russia.

vening in the question of a Mandate and a H o m e , where we could find many representatives opposed to us. 29

And it is also for religious reasons that Edmond de Rothschild, a few months after having written such a letter, forced the French rabbinate to accept to send Socialist and non-religious but influent Leon Blum 30 as the French representative to the Jewish Agency. Of course, many questions still remain: why, when visiting Palestine five times (1887, 1893, 1899, 1914, 1925), Baron Edmond never wanted to stay more than few days or few weeks on land, eating and sleeping not on the earth (Erefy but on the sea, on his yacht, Atmahi Why, being the son-in-law of the Orthodox Willy, did he decide to stop the haloucca? Why, having supported Joseph Halévy and Eliezer Ben Yehuda, the "Fathers of Hebrew," he refused to speak a word of Hebrew? These seven "trails" for investigation bring us to a first conclusion: the Baron's motivation was essentially religious and he used to say: "The religion of my parents is good enough for me." It was not by chance that when his body was transported f or burial to Palestine (1954), in a garden near Haifa where the map of the setdements was engraved on a huge stone, a representative of each settlement brought a bag of earth from his town. 31 The hand of Israel was, by excellence, the Mitsva of Baron Edmond: "We have to lay in Palestine the foundations of the spiritual rebirth of our new generations, in harmony with the highest realm of social justice. [...] And our literature will be a beacon for the rest of the world." 32 Naiditch writes that creating that Ideal Jew, or that Ideal Man, was, for the baron, the reason why Palestine. This brings us to a second conelusion: Edmond de Rothschild shared the illusion of his time, wanting to create a New Man. But for him, this New Man would be a revival of the homo religiosus from Biblical Times. 33 N o one can understand all the motivating factors behind such a complex personality. He was a poet, prophet and diplomat acting pardy in a dream, pardy in reality. We prefer to allow the last words to be given to his gardener, Maurice Gaucher (today in his 90's, but still very fit and living in the south of France): "At the end of his life, the Baron once went with me for a walk in his superb garden, in Boulogne, leaning on my arm. Suddenly, he stopped, and looking at the lawnmowers he asked: "Why do you let them cut all these splendid red poppies, marguerites and cornflowers?—But, Monsieur le Baron, you always asked for a perfecdy cut grass!—From now on, Gaucher, do me a favor: let the wild flowers grow!" And so it was done until the Baron's death.

29 30 31

32 33

AIU Archives, France VI A 43. Léon Blum (1872-1950), first President of the Front Populaire (June 1936-June 1937). Symbol re-taken by Spielberg in Schindler's List. T h e Baron died the 2nd of December 1934, the Anniversary of the Balfour Declaration. Naiditch 1945: 49. T o the Zionist, Goldberg, author of Pioneers and Builders, the Baron said: "I began to work in Palestine many years ago, because I'm a religious Jew. Without religion, Palestine means nothing."

E T H I O P I A N A N D RUSSIAN IMMIGRANTS IN ISRAEL POST-ZIONIST

OLIM?

LISA ANTEBY CNRS/Centre de Recherche Français de Jérusalem, Israel

This article examines two groups that have arrived in Israel since the 80's: the Jews from Ethiopia, numbering today over 65,000, and the Jews from the former Soviet Union, reaching close to 722,000 (having arrived since 1989). They will most likely represent the last major immigration waves to Israel at the end of the twentieth century. I will endeavor to show in which ways these two groups participate in Israeli society, how they develop diverging models of ethnicity, and how they challenge certain basic foundations of Zionism. T h e first part of this article will compare assimilation processes and segregation strategies at work in the Ethiopian and Russian communities in Israel, by looking at some areas such as native language, communal organization and political involvement. 1 A second part will focus on the various ways of reconstructing ethnicities for the two groups in Israel, given that they are considered "identical" to the host population because of a c o m m o n Jewish heritage and yet develop ways of being "different." In my last part, I will argue that these recent immigrants have not only reshaped contemporary Israeli society and perhaps even changed the meaning of what being "Israeli" means, but have also challenged the assumptions and purposes of a Jewish State—in the wake of the growing immigration of Russian Christians and "Ethiopian Jewish converts." Thus, the recent immigrants from Ethiopia and the former Soviet Union may well constitute the first trend in post-Zionist aljot which will undoubtedly have implications for the Israeli State at the turn of the century.

Participating in israeli society: Between assimilation and segregation Ethiopians and Russians in Israel seem at first glance to stand at two extremes: one is a rural illiterate population from the northern Ethiopian highlands w h o has maintained a strong religious and ethnic identity; the other is a mainly urban, highly educated population, w h o could not always preserve religious practices

The term "Ethiopians" and "Russians" follow the Hebrew usage, ttiopim and rvssim, even though I am aware of their limitations as well as the genera1i2ati0n they imply, given that I am dealing with such heterogeneous groups. Ethiopian Jews originated both from Tigray and G o n d a r provinces and immigrated in very different conditions while the Russian immigrants are composed of Jews from the Caucasus, Central Asia and Ukraine, for example.

under the Russian communist regime. Because of these characteristics, diverging absorption policies were applied to each group by the Israeli authorities: Ethiopians immigrants remained for at least one year (but often more) in an absorption center (merka% klita), following an "indirect absorption." They also received special mortgages to purchase apartments and affirmative action is being inforced in higher education. These decisions are often tainted with paternalism and ethnocentrism. What is called "direct absorption" is implemented for the Russian immigrants, meaning that they receive at their arrival an "absorption basket" (sal klita) which includes an allowance for living costs, rental and mortgage subsidies, and education expenses for children, enabling them to make use of this money to find housing, purchase goods and basically survive on their own. Despite these benefits and advantages, Russians are no treated with the "positive discrimination" that the Ethiopians receive, especially in the area of housing. 2 But, do these different integration dynamics suggest that each group will participate differendy in Israeli polity and social life?

Native Language Status Both Russian and Amharic show signs of ethnolinguistic vitality in Israel through the use of modern media (tv, radio, press), circulation of videotapes and music cassettes from Ethiopia and the former Soviet Union and certain educational frameworks (e.g. Russian classes, Amharic language test for the matriculation exam). In particular, the development of a Russian-language press, numbering some 50 newspapers and magazines constitutes one of the most important phenomena that characterizes this immigration (Zilberg 1996). This allows for native-language maintenance among the older generation, creating segregated speech communities. Concerning the youth, Ethiopian youngsters all speak Hebrew amongst themselves, whereas young people from the former Soviet Union continue to be attached to speaking Russian, even though they acquire Hebrew successfully; this is probably due to the fact that their Russian cultural, social and linguistic identity still prevails.

Communal Organization Both groups have a tight network of associations and organizadons which help the community members, defend their rights and encourage collective action. Concurrendy, a class of new leaders has emerged. Taking, for example, the case of the Ethiopian Jews, one has witnessed an explosion of Ethiopian associations (averaging 50) set up by young leaders who stage strikes and demonstrations with great charisma (such as the one directed towards the Rabbinate in 1985 or in response to the blood scandal in 1996). A m o n g the Jews from the former Soviet Union, approximately 35 associations exist. Each community has an um-

I am only referring here to the recent wave of immigrants from the former Soviet Union, w h o began to arrive in 1989 and not to the first immigration of the 70's, whose socio-demographic characteristics and motivations were vasdy different and whose absorption was also handled differendy.

brella organization, be it the Zionist Forum of Soviet Jewry or the United Ethiopian Jewish Organization. In this sense, Russian and Ethiopian Jews, w h o lacked any communal structure or community leaders in their countries of origin, are now organized as a community that can bring about group mobilization at each new crisis.

Political Involvement Both immigrant groups widely participated in the last elections (1996) and their claims were also taken into account in the Israeli politicians' campaigns. However, their way of grouping themselves differs widely. The Russians established their own political party (Israel b'Aliyah) of which two candidates were appointed to key-positions in the present government: N. Tcharansky as minister of Commerce & Industry and Y. Edelstein as minister of Immigration & Absorption. The Ethiopians, on the other hand, preferred to cast their votes mainly towards the national-religious parties, at the right of the political spectrum, even though the first Ethiopian to become a Member of the Knesset, Addisu Messale, was elected on the list of Avoda, the Labor Party. What do these patterns teach us in terms of ethnicity in politics? Following Ben-Rafael's (1982) classification of former immigrant waves, one could predict in our case that Russians will make up a "for-itself" group, developing a community of interests and a political consciousness, thus institutionalizing ethnicity in the polity. At the same time, the Ethiopians can be seen as an "in-itself" group, unwilling to articulate an ethnic political ticket, leading to their marginalization in the political sphere. However, both groups demonstrated that they are at the center of power, and not at its periphery, and that they have an influential weight in government policies and national decision-making. Despite the dissimilarities between Ethiopians and Russians, both groups use the same means of being involved in Israeli society to simultaneously maintain segregation and pursue assimilation. 3 In other words, from the point of view of native language, communal organization and political involvement, the two groups think of themselves as ethnic communities (which was never the case before) and are perceived by the Israelis as such; yet these are also the very strategies allowing them to fully enter Israeli society. That is to say, by behaving as "ethnics," they are becoming Israelis... However, if these patterns of participaring "ethnically" in Israeli society demonstrates that Russians and Ethiopians wish to form separate communities, how will this affect the interplay between constructions of Israeli identity and ethnic identity?

Choosing new models of ethnicity In the Israel of the 90's there exist various ways of negotiating and reconstructing ethnicities. In particular, we will try to understand how constructions of the Self and representations of the Other are re-elaborated for the Ethiopian Jews and the Jews from the former Soviet Union when they are conIn fact, cultural assimilation and heightened ethnicity are quite compadble trends as showed in various studies of immigrant groups in the 80's cf. Weingrod 1985.

fronted with their "other-self," i.e. the Israeli Jew, deemed "identical" at the start but turning out to be very "different."

The Myth of the Melting Pot In the last decades, the melting-pot model of immigrant "absorption" in Israel has been breached, mainly due to two factors. Firstly, the Zionist ideal of the fusion of exiles [miyug galuyot) into a homogenous society with one national and cultural identity (i.e. that of the "Jewish people") has failed, as the gap between the "two Israels" is widening. Secondly, the olim of today, as opposed to those of the 50's and 60's, are no longer willing to give up their ethnic specificities. Therefore, today's immigrants are fully participating in Israeli life without the resocialization required in the 50's, as new patterns of ethnic legitimization insure membership in Israeli society, leading to an era of cultural pluralism (Cohen 1983). Indeed, in the past, most immigrant groups aspired to assimilate as quickly as they could and become "Israelis." Presendy, it rather seems that recent immigrants strive to remain "ethnic" as long as they can. In this case, then, what become the markers of otherness? how are the boundaries of the group redefined? how do these "new ethnicities" co-exist with national Israeli identity?

Ethiopian Jews ' identification with a Black transnational culture In conjunction with secularization and modernity, Ethiopian Jews are growing more aware of their black identity in white Israeli society, in a way rediscovering their blackness or négritude (Anteby 1997). For instance, one observes in the political arena and the media new political uses of blackness and references to the language of racial relations, usually to condemn Israeli policies as "discrimination" and "racism." This reformulation of ethnicity is also manifest among a minority of the youth who adopt Afro-American models and international black symbols (in their music, hairstyle, clothing). Frequent trips to Addis Ababa and its urban African culture also account for this forging of a new collective identity.

Russian Jews' association with "High Culture" The immigrants from the former Soviet Union continue to transmit their culture and language of origin, especially since it is the only means for the intellectual elite, the intelligentsia, to maintain any kind of identity. O n e witnesses the formation of a new community of "Russian-speaking Jews in Israel" w h o wish to maintain an image of elitists and cosmopolitans. Indeed, they think of themselves as belonging to a Russian "high culture," seen as superior both to Western culture and even more so to Israeli culture that they dismiss as "Oriental" (Kimmerling 1998: 271). Russian-language media plays a major role in creating this tendency as well as numerous links with the homeland and with Russian Jews in N e w York or Berlin. Russian culture becomes a mode of identification, even among the youth, which is in turn interpreted by Israelis as ghett0i2ati0n and cultural separatism.

Being an Oleh in a Global World From these two examples we notice that a first set of identity references stem from the country of origin with which the immigrants still maintain strong bonds through modern media and travel, in some cases, such as the Russian immigrants, still actively participating in their former society. These transnational networks and cultural flows allow a circuladon of commodities and peopie, books and images, music and food between Israel and Ethiopia or the Russian communities in Germany, the United States, and the former Soviet Union. A second set of identity references derive from wider global models also conveyed by modern media such as cable tv and music culture. In this sense, a certain number of Ethiopian immigrants now feel they belong to a new "imagined community" of Blacks around the world. These observations show that one can live in Israel today and still be "Russian" or "Ethiopian" in addition to the other identities one chooses. N e w ethnic options, such as identifying as "blacks" or associating oneself with "high culture" may perhaps become the main features of the immigrants' "visibility" and their principal strategies of differentiation from the host population. Nonetheless, I do not believe that the interplay between the local, Israeli context, the past society of origin, and the global dimension of "world culture" should be seen as a sign of the failure of their absorption. O n the contrary, I would suggest that these trends may well represent a new manner of participating in Israeli society, by way of combining Israeli and global identities. The immigrants' suecess in integrating into global culture may simply prove they have integrated into Israeli culture, thus confirming that they may truly be post-modern before their time...

Challenging the zionistproject The novel ways in which the immigrants add new expressions to "being an Israeli" also entail a reformulation of Israeli identity and thus inevitably of Jewish identity itself. In other words, are these immigrant groups also defining new expressions of "being a Jew"? In fact, both immigrants from Ethiopia and the former Soviet Union face difficulties in defining their status as Jews. Their arrival re-activated the eternal debate on "who is a Jew?," which takes a new dimension in light of the high percentage of Russian Christian immigrants and of the controversy over the "Ethiopian Jewish converts," otherwise known as Falashmora. These "marginal groups" question the very text of the Law of Return and the Zionist project itself. Indeed, the 1970 amendment to the text of the Law of Return (adopted in 1950) stipulates that family members of a Jew can benefit from the rights given to a Jew, provided they have not converted to another religion: Article 4a. The right of a Jew according to the present law are also accorded to the child and the grandchild of a Jew, to the spouse of a Jew, to the spouse of

the child or the grandchild of a Jew, except a person who was a Jew and willingly converted to another religion. Article 4b. For the purpose of this law, a "Jew" means a person born to a Jewish mother or who has converted to Judaism, and who is not a member of another religion. Therefore, offspring of mixed marriages and descendants of apostates, who might be Christians, are allowed to immigrate to Israel under the law of Return (hoq hashvut). Nonetheless, membership in "another religion" is sufficient to nullify these ancestral rights, thus cancelling the right of these individuals to immigrate according to the Law of Return. 4

The Russian Christian immigrants The Russian immigrants as a whole are generally considered as a "Jewish community," but recendy an increasing number of non-Jews are also entering Israel, given the high number of mixed marriages in the former Soviet Union. There is also a minority of Russian Jews who converted to Christianity in the 60's and 70's, a phenomenon that seems to be restricted to certain urban centers (Moscow and Leningrad), mosdy among the intelligentsia. One last problem that also contributes to blowing up the figures concerning non-Jewish Russians relates to their personal status in terms of Jewish Law since it is estimated that 27% of Russian immigrants to Israel are not considered Jews according to Halakha. Because Jews in the Soviet Union could not perform some of the religious prescriptions (in terms of marriage, divorce, circumcisions), the Rabbinate has ruled that some of the olim or their children must undergo a conversion in order to be able to marry in Israel or in order that their child not be considered a mamyer.

The Falashmora As far as Ethiopian Jews are concerned, the entire community was recognized in 1975 as descendants of the tribe of Dan, and thus considered as "full-fledged Jews" who could benefit from the Law of Return. However, because the corpus of rabbinical laws was unknown in Ethiopia, marriage and divorce were not performed according to normative Judaism and some individuals still undergo a symbolic immersion before marrying in Israel. The Falashmora, on the other hand, are Christian Ethiopians of Jewish descent who form a large community of converts. In the 19th century, some Ethiopian Jews became Protestant under the influence of European missionaries while others assimilated into the dominant Amhara population, becoming members of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church (Kaplan 1993). Nonetheless, none of these were forced conversions but rather stemmed from personal choices to gain educational opportunities or to achieve higher social and economic status. The converts continued to be re-

4

T h e famous case of the late Brother Daniel Rufeisen challenged this law when he claimed Israeli citizenship under the Law of Return as a Jew (by birth), even though he converted to Christianity. T h e Israeli Supreme Court ruled (on Dec. 6th 1962) that the Law of Return, being a secular law, does not recognize as a Jew someone w h o converted to another religion, even though in the eyes of the Halakha, a Jew, even converted, remains a Jew.

garded as ethnically different by the Christians at the same time as they maintained links with family members who remained Jewish. Since 1991, when they were not allowed to join the 14,000 Ethiopian Jews w h o were airlifted to Israel during Operation Solomon, their right to emigrate has been a subject of controversy. Most have close family in Israel and are entering the country on the basis of family reunification under the Law of Entry (hoq haknisd) and not the Law of Return {hoq hashvut) only applied to those recognized as Jews. Upon arrival, they follow a three-week "return to Judaism" course {ha'shava lejahadui) and are formally converted as Jews (Corinaldi 1998). The presence of these immigrants in the midst of the olim only shows that the boundaries of Jewishness and the limits of who has the right to immigrate are being extended, resulting in a broader definition of who is a Jew and thus, w h o will become an Israeli (or at least who will be living in Israel as an Israeli). These groups on the margins of Judaism are redefining the contours of Israeli society, a first step towards normalcy, and perhaps post-Zionism.

Conclusion Both the crumbling Zionist ideology in Israel itself as well as the characteristics of the Russian and Ethiopian immigrants (i.e. the social and political ways they participate in Israeli society, the ethnic options they choose in relation to global identities, and the fact that they are not always "halakhic Jews") account for some of these new trends in patterns of Israeli society and identity. —Can one define these immigrants as post-modern olimi If they have taken on a new Israeli identity, their immigration has also enabled them to construct new ethnicities and new forms of identification that are not linked to Israel and to Zionism (but rather to the US or to urban Africa). - C a n one define these immigrants as post-Zionist olimi In fact, there has been an ideological shift in Israel and several researchers claim it is becoming a post-Zionist society, since the goals of Zionism are no longer being achieved. This, of course, undermines the very meaning of aliyah, for what does it signify to be an oleh in a post-Zionist era? - C a n one define these immigrants as simply migrants as in any other Western countries? In this case, aliyah ("ascension") is on the way to becoming hagira (immigration), if this has not happened yet.5 The question of how the nonJewish Christians or Ethiopians are integrating further addresses the question of what it means for Israeli society to face migrants instead of olim. Leaving these questions open, I will only finish by asking: what would these diverging definitions of the immigrants imply for the borders of Israeli society in the future and for Jewish identity in Israel?

There are already an estimated 150,000 foreign workers in Israel (approximately half of w h o m are illegal) originating from Rumania, Thailand, West Africa and the Philippines.

Bibliography Anteby, L. 1997. "Blood, Identity and Integration: reflections on the Ethiopian Jews in Israel." In Ethiopia in Broader Perspective: Papers of the 13th International Conference ofEthiopian Studies. Ed. K. Fukui. Kyoto: Shokado Booksellers, 262-283. Ben-Rafael, E. 1982. The Emergence of Ethnicity: Cultural Groups and Social Conflict in Israel. Westport: G r e n n w o o d Press. Corinaldi, M. 1998. Jewish Identity: the Case of Ethiopian Jewry. Jerusalem: T h e Magnes Press. Cohen, E. 1983. "Ethnicity and Legitimation in Contemporary Israel." The Jerusalem Quarterly 28,111-124. Kaplan, S. 1993. "Falasha Christians: a Brief History." Midstream 34,1, 20-21. Kimmerling, Β. 1998. "The N e w Israelis: multi-cultures without pluri-culturalism" (Hebr.). Alpayim 16, 264-308. Weingrod, A. ed. 1985. Studies in Israeli Ethnicity: After the Ingathering. New York: G o r d o n & Breach. Zilberg, N . and Leshem, E. 1996. "Russian Language Press and Immigrant Community in Israel." Revue Européenne des Migrations Internationales 12,3, 173-189.

J E W I S H L I F E IN S W E D E N 1 8 6 0 - 1 9 3 0 E C O N O M Y AND IDENTITY IN A N O R D I C PERSPECTIVE RITA BREDEFELDT University of Stockholm, Sweden

T h e overall aim of this paper is to study how a very small ethnic group has coped socio-economically within society during a period of rapid economic change and modernization (the period of industrialization) and in some length discuss changes in Jewish self-perception during this period. My starting point is that modern Jewish identity has to a great extent been formed in a process of interaction with strategies for economic success and a culturally based "Bildungsideal." Jewish identity and culture seem to influence economic choices just as these choices in turn affect identity. Focus will be here on the Swedish Jewish experience in a comparative Nordic perspective. Even though the Jewish minorities in Norway, Denmark, Finland and Sweden have remained small in numbers, they have not disappeared. 1 Intermarriage and assimilation have been counteracted by several waves of immigration and a plurality of strong identity-reproducing institutions within the national Jewish Congregations. T h e legal emancipation of the Jews in the Nordic countries was completed during the second half of the 19th Century, except for the Finnish Jews, w h o did not achieve their civil rights until 1918, after Finland's independence from Tsarist Russia in 1917. After that Jews could settle to live anywhere and apply for any jobs (with some few exceptions, like teaching religion and higher state or military offices).

The Occupational Structure of the Jews— The Swedish Example G r a p h 1 below shows the occupational structure for the whole gainfully occupied Swedish population 1870-1930. This is period of industrialization and profound structural change, not only in the Swedish economy, but more or less in all the Nordic countries. It led to rapid productivity increases with a subsequent decrease in labor demand in the agricultural sector and a parallel increase in labor demand in the industrial and trading sectors and in a smaller scale also in professions.

T h e Jewish populations according to Nadonal Statistics in 1890 and 1930 respectively: In Norway 214 and 1359 Jews, in Finland 642 and 1782, in Denmark 4080 and 5635 and in Sweden 3402 and 6653.

G R A P H I: T H E OCCUPATIONAL DISTRIBUTION IN SWEDEN 1 8 7 0 - 1 9 3 0

• 1870 Β 1880 • 1890 • 1900 Η1910 ‫ ש‬1920 g 1930 _ _ _ _ _ fc=J •ν‫״״׳‬

, —, — — ^ ^ ^ . — »

T

H

J

Agriculture and

Industry and

Trade and

FVofessions

farming

handicrafts

transportation

and religion

Ê

Sources: Official statistics from The Swedish Statistical Centralbureau: 1) Bidrag till Svenges Offiàella Statistik (BiSOS) 1906, Population statistics XLVIII 1909; X 1912. 2) Spenges Offiàella Statistik (SOS), Population Censuses 1920 and 1930. Graph 2 below shows that the occupational distribution of the Jews in Sweden differed from that of the whole gainfully occupied population in Sweden. Structural economic factors in Sweden were obviously not the only determinants for Jewish vocational choices. If Swedish economy alone had determined the choices of occupation, then Jews would mainly have chosen to work within the growing industrial sector and only on second hand within trade, since these were the two most rapidly growing sectors (in that order) demanding new labour. Although almost entire freedom of occupational choice had existed for 60 years, trade still employed some 52,7% of the Jews in 1930, but only 15,5% of the total working population in Sweden. Agriculture occupied in 1930 34,7% of the total, but only 0,9% of the Jews. This does not mean, though, that the changing Swedish economy didn't have any impact on Jewish choices. Graph 2 also shows that, although a majority of the Jews still clung to trade as late as 1930, it was precisely within this sector that the decrease (-15,3 points from 1904 to 1930) of the gainfully occupied was most marked and the increase (+20,3 points from 1904 to 1930) in the expanding industrial sector the greatest. The picture for professions is more mixed, but between 1920 and 1930 there is a marked increase of 3 percentage units.

G R A P H 2: T H E O C C U P A T I O N A L D I S T R I B U T I O N O F J E W S IN S W E D E N

1904-1930

Sources: The National Archives of Sweden: Kommittearkiv YK nr 1901, Dissenterskattekommitten nr 71:4. 1920 and 1930: The Swedish Statistical Centralbureau, Svenges Offiàella Statistik (SOS), Population Censuses. T o understand the reasons for this development, we have to look at the economic and social background of the Jews in Sweden. Graph 3 below can be a starting point for an explanation. The first increase of the Jewish population (the darker line) illustrates the immigration of well-to-do Jews mainly from Northern Germany to Sweden from 17742 to 1815. They were highly skilled artisans, middlemen, wholesale dealers and bankers who came to build up textile firms, banks, refineries (sugar, oil) etc in Sweden. The Swedes placed the Jews where they found them most useful: They wanted market know-how, new capital and access to Jewish financial networks in Europe. These Western European Jews created an identity for themselves as economically successful and cultivated, socially mobile middle and upper class Swedish citizens of Jewish creed. Many developed a Reformist or a Liberal or even secularized view on religious matters. It expressed both change and continuity in the Jewish community. About a hundred years later this process of identity-transformation was temporarily interrupted by a new wave of immigrants, now, Eastern European Jews, mainly from Tsarist Russia's Pale of Setdement.

T h e first Jewish immigrants to Sweden w h o were allowed to setde d o w n without converting to Christianity came in 1774, the first statistical n u m b e r s being f r o m 1787 as s h o w n o n the graph.

G R A P H 3: T H E INCREASE O F T H E J E W I S H P O P U L A T I O N IN S W E D E N 1 7 8 7 - 1 9 3 0

7000

2500

Increase

fe 2000 I 1500 c ai1000 ο c

‫־‬

500 0 0

-500 178718151830 184018501860 188019001920

Sources: Zitomersky 1988, 122 in Broberg, Runblom and Tydén "Judiskt Liv i Norden. " Olán

1924, 53,165 'Judama pà svensk mark." Valentin 1924, 202, 219, 543 "Judarnas historia i Sverige. " The Swedish Statistical Centralbureau: BidragtillSveriges Offiàella Statistik (BiSOS) 1825-1860, 1870. Sveriges Officiella Statistik (SOS) 1920 V:3 Population Censuses. This is shown in the graph above by the second and third increases of Jewish immigrants during the period 1860-1910. Those who came between the years 1860 and 1880 were mosdy craftsmen and artisans. They had lived in Russian shteds and small towns producing, selling and peddling handicrafts, also grain and alcoholic beverages. Even larger numbers came during the years 1900-1910. The latter group had already in the Pale been influenced by the beginnings of Russian industrialization and had experience of life outside the shted. They had moved to larger towns and many of them were skilled or semi-skilled industrial workers mainly in textiles/clothing, leather/shoeindustries ie. branches were competition for jobs was the toughest. These immigrant groups from the Russian Pale were definitely not middle class. They were poor, often deeply religious. Consequendy their Jewish identity differed from that of the modern middie and upper class "Western" Jews that had lived in Sweden for almost a century. The new situation led to a "cultural collision" and created an identity crisis on both sides. With such varying economic backgrounds one would have expected a diversified occupational structure of the Jewish population in Sweden at the turn of the century (1900). But as we saw before, 52,7% of the gainfully occupied Jews in 1930 still worked within trade. So, what happened during the period from 1860 to 1930? The picture is quite complicated and can only be summarized here. First, the Western Jews continued to develop the occupations they were good at and were allowed to work in, namely, as middlemen, wholesale dealers mainly in textiles,

in finance and banking and later also as textile industrialists. They were so suecessful that they probably lacked any modve to create new "niches" for their economic acdvides. The Swedes wanted to place the Jews in these occupations and the Jews accepted this and did the best of it. Second, the Eastern European immigrants w h o did not move directly to Swedish industry (ie. textiles, leather and tobacco) were incorporated in the existing Western Jewish trading networks. Many began their careers as small scale salesmen (peddlers, hausirers) employed by other Jews, and soon ended up as peddlers on their own. This was easily done since it did not require any sizeable amount of capital, no special education, it gave a living at once and the work was done together with other Jews w h o knew the language and could transfer direct information of Swedish business customs and rules. Normally the peddler and artisan occupation did not go from father to son. Instead, the sons were encouraged to get a higher education, if they didn't take over the firm that their fathers had built up into independent firms. So both groups ended up mainly in trade. A third group were the immigrants that already had experienced the beginnings of Russian industrialization and were skilled or semi-skilled workers at the time of emigration. The Jewish workers moved most probably into the expanding Swedish industrial sectors that lay near at hand for their skills, but they never formed any sizable industrial proletariat in Sweden. T h e share of entrepreneurs both in trade and industry increased, while the share of industrial workers declined. 1 This upward social mobility could also be seen in second and even more so in the third generation of Eastern Jews that were encouraged to get a higher education. The pattern is similar to that in other countries: Many became lawyers and physicians. Swedish industrialization opened up several options for Jews in different occupations. The Jews chose to establish mainly in trade and industry, increasingly as entrepreneurs and on second hand in professions. The Eastern European Jews soon became well integrated into the Swedish economy and took over the Western European Jewish identity of a religiously liberal, 4 economically successful and cultivated minority in Sweden. My argument is, that the reasons for this modernization and transformation of identity can be found in the economic experiences in the industrializing Russian Empire, the rapidly changing Swedish economy (both seen as exogenous) combined with cultural traditions and preferences (seen as endogenous) of both "Western" and "Eastern" Jews that merged into one.

Both entrepreneurs and industrial workers increased in absolute numbers but had opposite developments in their shares of the whole Jewish populadon. T h e entrepreneurs, especially the larger ones, increased their share, the industrial workers decreased their share of all the gainfully occupied Jews. Needless to say, there of course existed (and exists) a minority of religiously orthodox Jews. The case here is of the main stream development.

Can wefind the same development in the other Nordic countries? The special case of the Finnish Jews O n e of the tasks in this paper is to shed light on the occupadonal structure of the Jewish populations in the Nordic countries and to explore the reasons for their specific economic strategies. This is especially interesting after the Jewish emancipation had been accomplished. T h e Finnish Jewish minority is in this respect not entirely comparable with the same minorities in the other Nordic countries. There are several reasons for this. First, the rights of citizenship for the Jews in Finland were not granted until 1918, which makes the period of free occupational choices of the Jews up to 1930 too short. Second, the movement of the Jews to Finland up to 1918 cannot be seen as the same type of immigradon as for the Jews in the other Nordic countries. Even if it can be argued that no emigration from the Russian Pale of Setdement was entirely a voluntary act and that both push and pull factors interacted, it is still a fact that the movement of Russian and Polish Jews to Finland was totally a compulsory one. After Nikolai I's accession to the Russian throne in 1825, Jews were ineluded in the military service. Boys from poor Jewish families w h o couldn't bribe the Russian authorities were placed from the age of 8 - 1 2 years in so called Canton schools (they were cantonists) until they were 18, when their ordinary 25-year military service really began. Since Finland from 1809 to 1917 was a Grand Duchy of the Russian Empire a Canton school was stationed also in Helsinki f r o m the 1830's. When these Jewish soldiers were dismissed, they could choose to stay in Finland with their families. 5 From the 1850's some 200 dismissed Jewish soldiers chose to setde down in the Finnish cities of Helsinki, Turku and Viipuri. Because of the long military service the Jews lacked occupational skills other than the small handicrafts they had learned in service. Legally their means of subsistence were reduced to selling their own products allowed by the guilds, small wares and old clothing. These dismissed soldiers started almost instandy to trade with and repair old clothes at the "narinken." 6 Others were tailors and shoemakers, house-to-house peddlers and middlemen. Since a large part of the Finnish population at this time was poor, there was a demand of used and repaired clothes. O f 86 gainfully occupied Jews in Helsinki in 1901 some 55 were tradesmen or tailors, 15 sold fruits and meat. In the year 1912 the proportions were much the same, with the addition of about 20 males in professions. The younger generations started f r o m 1919 to move away from the "narinken" into their own shops. Those w h o stayed in trade with clothing and

5

H o w could these Jewish soldiers have families? The "simple" answer is that Russian authorides organised transports of Jewish w o m e n "keen on getdng married" f r o m Poland to Finland. Some had taken their families with them from Russia, where they had married during their time of service. See in the Finnish National Archives in Helsinki, the deposition f r o m the Jewish congregation in Helsinki, O h l s t r ö m , Β. 1959. Hi/singfors Judiska befolkning—social struktur och dekulturation. 1-15. Also Harviainen, T. 1984. Drag ur denfinländskajudenhetens historia. 55—57.

6

" N a rynke" means "at the market place" in Russian.

textiles shifted to ready-made garment industry. Some chose academic careers mainly in law, medicine and technology. 7

The case of the Danish and Norwegian Jews Graphs 4 and 5 below show that the overall development for trade and industry/handicrafts in Denmark and Norway was much the same as for Sweden. Almost the same pattern emerges for Denmark as for Sweden, but not endrely. Trade dominates in 1885 but decreases so much (44,4% occupied in trade 1885 to 31,8% in 1931) that in 1931 the gainfully occupied Jews are more numerous within industry than in trade (18,8% occupied in industry 1885 to 35,6% in 1931). G R A P H 4 : T H E O C C U P A T I O N A L D I S T R I B U T I O N O F J E W S IN C O P E N H A G E N , DENMARK 1885-1931

45

1

™1885

‫־‬fies

30' I

Î-

m 1906

Π

il Ê O 30

i

l

^ Ì c •t; ω

r*

•1931

0

‫· נ ס‬ šϊ ; f c

0

™

·*->·—

2?i‫־‬ c !tt ‫כ‬

I

Ο

Sources: 1885: Rubin, M. Det mosaiske Troessamfund i Kjöbenhavn. 173-193 in Ved 150 Aars-Dagen for Anordningen af 29. Marts 1814 (1964). 1906: Cordt Trap: Jöderne i Köbenhavn efter‫־‬Folketaellingslisterneaf 1906, Nationalökonomisk Tidskrift 1907 vol 45, 156-197. 1931: Jörgensen, H. Colding: Jöderne i Danmark omkring 1931. Nationalökonomisk Tidskrift 1934, vol. 72, 330-345. 8 The picture is more mixed for professions, but rising as a whole from 1885 to 1931 (10,7% occupied in professions 1885, 15,4% in 1906 and 11,3% in 1931). Agriculture and farming played the same insignificant role in Denmark as in Sweden. 7 8

O h l s t r ö m 1959: 15-21. Between approximately 7 9 % and 9 0 % of the Jews in D e n m a r k lived during this period in Copenhagen. See D a n m a r k s Statistik: Tabelvaerk tit Köbenhavns statistik for tiden 1876—1919 and Statistiskc Opfysninger om Köbenhavn og Frtdriksberg.

In Christiania/Oslo in Norway we find the same principal development of a majority of Jews occupied in trade followed by declining numbers employed in this sector (74,3% in 1893 to 68,3% in 1930) and increasing numbers in industry and handicrafts (11,4% in 1893 to 14,6% in 1930). G R A P H y. T H E O C C U P A T I O N A L D I S T R I B U T I O N OF J E W S IN C H R I S T I A N I A / O S L O , NORWAY 1893-1930

• 1893 Π 1904 01920 • 1930

M

Μ

Trade and

FVofessrans and

Industry and

transportation

religion

handicrafts

Sources: Del Mosaiske Trossamfund (The Jewish Congregation in Oslo): Menighedsprotokol 1893-1930. Also from 1918-1930 Den Israelitiske Menighet i Oslo. The latter was a parallel, more orthodox congregation. The two congregations were merged in 1939. Both these sources are at the Jewish Congregation in Oslo, the archives of which were opened to me due to the kind help of Dagfinn Bernstein. 9

From traditional Jewish occupations to increased occupational diversification For Sweden, Denmark and Norway the decline of the gainfully occupied Jews in trade is stable, while the increase in industry and handicrafts is more unstable: Sweden has the most stable increase in industry, while Denmark and Norway show first a small decrease followed by an increase in 1930. The Danish industrial increase from 1906 to 1931 is very marked i. e. 20,6 percentage units. This

9

T h e majority of the Norwegian Jews lived during this period in Chrisriania/Oslo i. e. a bit lesser than two-thirds. See Koritzinsky, H M H. 1922. Jödemes Historie i Norge. 75-79. Also Statistisk Sentralbyrà and The National Archiver. Population Censuses for 1891, 1910, 1920, 1930.

mixed development has probably several reasons and cannot extensively be dealt with in this paper. But one obvious reason is surely the different pace of industrialization in each country, another reflects the fact that Danish and Norwegian Jews experienced a more lengthy shift from (declining) handicrafts to (increasing) industrial work than the Swedish Jews. The shift took place often within the same branch (for example tailors and shoemakers to workers in textile and leather factories). Within professions the picture is even more mixed with a slight increase for Denmark and Sweden up to 1930 and a strong increase in Norway up to 1930. These represent the younger generations with higher education careers mentioned above. O n e main common feature emerges in the Nordic countries: a development away from the one-sided dominance of trade (the "traditional" Jewish occupation) to a more comprehensive, diversified, occupational structure. Still, in 1930 trade occupies a larger share of the gainfully occupied Jewish population than that of the total population occupied in trade. 10 The Jews made use of the new economic possibilities, but they did it in their own way—according to their preferences and tradition of upward social mobility within trade and industry and higher education in the professions. As a matter of fact, we can already in 1915 see the beginning of the same development among the gainfully occupied Finnish Jews. This is obvious when the occupational structure of the Finnish Jews in 1898 is compared to that of 1915. Even if a great majority (77%) is occupied in trade, there is a discernible decrease (to 71%) and a small increase in industry and handicrafts from 17,4% in 1898 to 21% in 1915." Bear in mind, that this is still under Russian rule and before the emancipation. This strategy is not unknown in other European countries and can be observed for example among Austrian, Hungarian and German Jews, during the same period. 12

10

11

12

1930 gainfully occupied in trade: Sweden 15,5%, Denmark 4 % and Norway 7,2% of all the gainfully employed in each country. Sources: Sweden: Statens Officiella Statistik, Folkräkningen 1930. Denmark: Statistisk Aarbog 1935. Norway: Statistisk Arbok 1935. Even if the statistics differ a bit depending upon what is included, it still is way below that of the Jewish populations' share. T h e sources for this development are from the Finnish National Archives: Siviilitoimituskunnan arkisto H e 1, Juutalaisten maassa oleskelua koskevia asiakirjoja 1894—1915 and Heisingin Poliisilaitoksen arkisto. Passitoimisto. Luettelo Mooseksen uskolaisista 1877-1905. The numbers for 1898 are from Helsinki, the Jewish population being nearly 60% of the total. T h e numbers for 1915 are for the whole Jewish population in Finland. See Beller, S. 1989. Vienna and the Jews 1867-1938, 13, 90-103. Karady, V. 1984. Studies in Contemporary Jewry. E d . J . Frankel. 225-252, 240-241. Volkov, S. The "Verbürgelichung" of the Jews as a Paradigm in Bougeois Society in Nineteenth-Century Europe. 367—368.

C R E A T I N G J E W I S H SPACES IN E U R O P E A N C I T I E S A M N E S I A AND COLLECTIVE M E M O R Y DAVID CLARK University of North London, U K

T h e starting point for this paper is Robert Shields' notion of space myth (Shields 1991). According to Shields, the spatial is charged with emotional content, mythical meanings, community symbolism and historical significance. T h r o u g h a process of labelling certain sites and zones become associated with particular activities. This leads to the creation of space myths. Soon narratives emerge, narratives which not only attach themselves to specific places, but which also tend to become insider stories forming part of the symbolic construction of community. This paper explores the formation of space myths in relation to Jewish sites in E u r o p e a n cities. Specifically it examines how space myths and collective memory are interwoven in order to legitimate the kind of centre-margin relationships that are being forged. First, it examines how collective memory concerning Jewish sites had been repressed in the 1950s, leading to a deliberate collective amnesia in many European cities. Next it examines the revival of such space myths and collective memories in the 1980s and 1990s. T h e revival of such collective memory is linked to attempts by the centre, and the agencies of the state in particular, to "recolonise" the margins. Yet it is also linked to attempts by grass-roots movements to explore the culture-inbetween, as Bhabha denotes it, and so redefine the group's identity in terms other than those imposed by the centre (Bhabha 1996).

Collective Amnesia While collective memory is not altogether lost, it is highly selective, and certain acts of wilful amnesia take place. As Andreas Huyssen notes: " T h e difficulty of the current conjuncture is to think memory and amnesia together rather than simply to oppose t h e m " (Huyssen 1995: 7). Acts of collective remembrance did occur in the period immediately after the Second World War. Milton and Nowinski mention the "Mausoleum to Jewish Martyrdom" in the Milan municipal cemetery, erected in 1947 and the "Memorial of the U n k n o w n Jewish Martyr," erected in Paris in 1956. In Poland, memorials made f r o m fragments of tombstones began to appear at various derelict Jewish cemeteries. Gradually a number of memorials were established at various concentration camp sites, such as Buchenwald in 1958, Ravensbruck in 1959 and Sachsenhausen in 1961 ( Milton and Nowinski 1991). Nevertheless, for much of this period, collective amnesia seemed to be m u c h stronger than collective memory. Indeed, Sabine O f f e argues very con-

vincingly that while sites of commemoration were established on concentration camp sites, former Jewish residential areas in the midst of current urban life were made "invisible" through deliberate acts of urban planning (Offe 1997). Thus, O f f e cites the example of the state of Hesse, where, between 1945 and 1987, 63 synagogues were torn down or extensively "remodelled" for other uses. Hence, collective amnesia is not a simple matter of forgetting; it is something that has to be striven for, worked at, alongside other actions leading to remembrance. If we examine former Jewish sites in European cities, in the immediate postwar period, it soon becomes clear that a certain dilemma faced planners, city authorities and politicians alike. This dilemma consisted in what to do with the old buildings, mosdy in ruins, that were reminders of a former Jewish community, destroyed or uprooted by the Holocaust. The "Old Synagogue" in Essen, which started life in 1913 as the " N e w Synagogue," was badly damaged by fire on Kristallnacht in 1938, when hundreds of synagogues were burned and thousands of shops destroyed and looted. The synagogue remained in ruins until the municipality bought the building from the Jewish community in 1959. Despite various petitions from the local Jewish residents to turn the building into a community centre, the municipality decided to convert the building for its own uses. In the process the municipality obliterated all signs of the building's former use, removing the Torah niche on the eastern wall and constructing a low ceiling which hid the soaring cupola. The building was then used to house an exhibition on industrial design. Only after part of the exhibition was destroyed by fire in 1979 did the municipality have a change of heart. Other countries in Europe faced a similar dilemma in terms of what to do with buildings or sites that were reminders of a pre-war Jewish community. Although the municipality of Amsterdam had purchased the site of four synagogues in the heart of the old Jewish quarter in 1954, littie had been done for the next twenty years. The synagogues were hastily renovated and made usable, mainly for storage purposes by the municipality. There was littie attempt to maintain or restore any of the original features of these synagogues. Only after the mid-1970s, when the idea of establishing a Jewish museum on the site was approved, did plans take shape to restore some of the original features. It is very striking that the period from 1954 till 1974 witnessed similar acts of collective amnesia in the Netherlands as those I outlined for Germany. I am sure that the same phenomenon was repeated elsewhere in Europe, and even more strikingly so in countries under communist regimes. Under communism synagogues and Jewish community centres were generally taken over by the state and turned to secular use, as civic buildings, warehouses, cinemas and factories James Young discusses how the memorialisation of Buchenwald, in the German Democratic Republic, was cast in the light of the dominant communist view which emphasised the plight of political prisoners, especially communist prisoners, of all nationalities (Young 1993). The themes of internationalism and political persecution were also strongly portrayed in the Polish memorials of the

1950s and 1960s, while the specific targeting of Jews by the Nazi regime was downplayed or even ignored. O f course, acts of remembrance did take place under communist regimes as well, but these tended to be the exception rather than the rule. Nevertheless, the general response, both in the East and the West, was for a form of collective amnesia in the 1950s and 1960s, which sought to obliterate any painful reminders of the communities that were lost as a result of the Holocaust.

Reviving Old Memories: The Centre Rediscovers the Margin By the 1980s, however, there occurred a tremendous renewal of interest in sites of Jewish interest in Europe. Places and spaces associated with historical Jewish settlement suddenly took on a new meaning and significance. Collective memory was being revived, but it was being revived because of the needs of the "present," rather than simply being an innocent rediscovery of the past. The move to reconnect specific locations, buildings and spaces in the city with narratives associated with Jewish setdement is a result of a two-fold pressure. The most dominant pressure came from the "centre," from the agencies of the state. Yet there was also an under-current of pressure stemming from the "margins" themselves, from grass roots level, sometimes spurring the centre to take action, and sometimes acting in opposition to what was happening at the centre. O n e way of making sense of this transition from collective amnesia to collective memory is to place this phenomenon within the wider context of centremargin relationships. Cilly Kugelman outlines five distinct phases of (West) German-Jewish relations in the post-war period (Kugelman 1996). The immediate aftermath of the war and the experience of the Displaced Persons Camps are characterised as being a period of great uncertainty and ambivalence. Next came the period from around 1950 till the mid-1960s, when attempts were made to "normalise" relationships between the state and the Jewish community via the intermediary of "official" spokesmen for the Jewish community. Yet, there was a tacit agreement within the Jewish community to keep a low profile, to seek anonymity and invisibility. This is the period characterised above as one of collective amnesia. The early 1960s, with the Eichman trial, and the memorialisation of various concentration camps, brought the events of the Holocaust back into public debate. Yet, it was not till the late 1970s that this debate really reached all levels of society, particularly after the screening of the American TV series on the Holocaust, broadcast in Germany in 1978-79. This stimulated much local-level research on the fate of German Jews during the Nazi era and an interest in the history of local Jewish communities. Indeed, in the 1980s there was a sudden surge to open museums and to unveil monuments and plaques commemorating former Jewish communities. Kugelman also notes that this period coincided with the rise of a much more vocal and more "visible" Jewish community and Jewish leadership. This new leadership was much more ready to take to the public limelight and openly protest against public policies affecting the Jewish community.

The German Experience The "centre" actually invests financial resources to renovate, rebuild and refurbish buildings that had been hitherto neglected, defaced or virtually demolished, as well as setting up monuments and plaques on sites that were now considered to be of some significance in respect of a former Jewish population. Thus, the New Synagogue in Essen, built in 1913, partly destroyed in 1938, renovated in 1980 and re-opened as a museum on 9 th November 1980. The building was renamed the "Old Synagogue" and dedicated as a memorial site and documentation centre. Plans were set in motion to renovate the building to its former appearance as a synagogue and in 1986 the state administration (Land Nordrhein-Westfalen) donated sufficient funds for the work of reconstruction. T h e building now houses two permanent exhibitions, one on "Milestones in Jewish Life: from emancipation to the present day," and the other on "Persecudon and Resistance in Essen: 1933-1945." The initiative to renovate the former synagogue did not come from the Jewish community in Essen, but rather from the municipality. The funds for the building work were raised from the state of Nordrhein-Westfallen. The themes of the permanent exhibitions are placed in a very specific historic context, from the emancipation (beginning of the 19th century) to the present (with a specific focus on the Nazi era). Thus, the municipal authorities in charge of the museum have taken a very narrow and very specific view of what constitutes the historical narrative to be recounted in the museum.

The experience in Southern Europe The Museo Sefardi, in Toledo, now housed in a former synagogue, was established in 1964, with the aim, according to its constitution, of preserving, maintaining and testifying to Spanish-Hebraic culture. The museum is a state museum, under the aegis of the ministry of Education and Culture. The synagogue itself was substantially renovated between 1985 and 1994 and is located in the former Jewish quarter and well over 200,000 people annually visit the museum. The director of the museum notes that the main concerns of the central government, in funding the museum, are architectural heritage, historical and cultural heritage, local history and tourist development (Lopez Alvarez 1997). The renovation of part of the old Jewish quarter, including the synagogue, is clearly part of a strategy to enhance the tourist attraction of the area, in line with Spain's current emphasis on cultural tourism, as opposed to the massive investment in seaside resorts of the 1960s and 1970s. In Italy, since the late 1980s, many inidatives have taken place to safeguard or restore Jewish sites. This is as a result of legislation that mandated the state, at local and regional level, to take an acdve role in preserving and maintaining Italian Jewish heritage (Gruber 1998). In Bologna, a Jewish museum is to be located in a Renaissance palazzo in the heart of the old Jewish quarters, to be opened in 1999 and will be run by the civic authorities. The museum will be aimed mainly at a non-Jewish public and at tourists. Ruth Gruber writes: "Regional authorities in Emilia Romagna, working together with the small Jewish communities in several cities, have been at the forefront of efforts to bring

Jewish culture and heritage to light. These activities have included a detailed census of all items and sites of Jewish heritage in the region and initiating a project to revitalise Bologna's medieval ghetto neighbourhood" (Gruber 1998: 5). Thus, as in Spain, so too in Italy the need for tourist development and the revitalisation of older neighbourhoods, are key elements in driving local and regional government to "rediscover" its margins.

Polyvocality on the margins: the slow emergence of a Jewish voice Klaus N e u m a n n gives an account of events at Hildesheim (Neumann 1998). A small and very simple memorial was erected in 1948 at the site where the synagogue used to stand. In 1987 a much more elaborate monument was put in its place and officially unveiled in November 1988. The local Jewish community could not be represented at the time, as most of the remaining Jews had moved away by then. Yet, by February 1997 a new Jewish congregation was established in Hildesheim, consisting mainly of Jewish immigrants from the Ukraine and the former Soviet Union. From then on it would be the Jewish community w h o would be organising the annual memorial services at the site of the monument. This highlights some of the changes undergone by German Jewry over the post-war decades. I have already commented on the invisibility of the Jewish community in Germany in the 1950s; low numbers also contributed to a low profile. In Hildesheim the Jewish community dwindled from seventy families in the 1950s to only one resident in 1988 (Neumann 1998: 38). And yet, by 1997 a new Jewish population had arrived in Hildesheim and a new congregation established. There had been a steady trickle of Jewish immigration into Germany from the East and various flash points brought new waves of immigrants, from the 1950s onwards. But clearly, the demise of communism in the Soviet block after the events of 1989 accelerated this process. As a result, German Jewry has swelled in numbers and is now more "visible." This new-found visibility, however, is a complex phenomenon. A number of factors contribute to such visibility. As mentioned previously, a younger, postwar, generation has taken over prominent leadership positions within the community, a more vocal and more assertive leadership. There has also been the arrival of newer immigrants, swelling the numbers of the Jewish community. At the same time, the non-Jewish population in Germany is engaged in a wide spread debate concerning the Holocaust and what happened to German Jewry during the Nazi era. The state institutions are busy setting up and supporting memorial sites, museums and documentation centres. While there is much official interest in the history of the pre-war Jewish population, there is greater ambivalence towards the post-war Jewish community in Germany, espedaily towards the newer arrivals from the former Soviet block. Yet, some institutions in Germany are more pro-active than others. Thus, the Jewish Museum in Rendsburg is seeking closer co-operation with the Jewish community. Representatives of the Hamburg Jewish community are on the steering committee of the museum. Moreover, the museum has established

quite a few informal links with Jews in Rendsburg, Kiel, Lübeck and Hamburg, most of these Jews being emigrants from the former USSR (Dettmer 1997).

Polyvocality on the Margins: The Polish Case The interest in reviving memories of Jews in Poland came initially from nonJewish sections of the populations, especially young intellectuals. Krzyztof Gierat, a young Pole, organised a festival of Polish films on Jewish themes in 1986 and in 1988 organised the first Festival of Jewish Culture in Krakow (Gruber 1996). A second such festival was so successful that it has become a very popular annual event. The festival takes place in the Kazimierz district of Krakow, the old Jewish quarter, which still contains seven synagogues and other buildings associated with the Jewish setdement in the city. The festival features exhibitions, theatre performances, lectures, films, workshops, and concerts. Many of the participating artists are Jews brought in from other parts of Europe and America, as well as Polish artists and performers. The emergence of polyvocality in Poland is quite an extraordinary and at the same time complex phenomenon. In the mid to late 1980s, espousal of interest in Jewish themes under a communist regime was also an act of defiance of some sort, of attempting to redefine Polishness in terms other than those laid down by the centre. Since the fall of communism, an interest in Jewish themes still represents an attempt to redefine Polishness in the new context, but in a situation in which possibilities and horizons are much more wide-open. O f particular significance here, though, is the opportunity the Kazimierz festival of Jewish culture affords Polish Jews to rediscover, retrace and'redefine their own Jewish culture and Jewish identity. The Kazimierz festival of Jewish culture is a venue, a space, in which both Jews and non-Jews, can explore together what being Jewish might mean, and what implication this might have for their own personal identity. It may well be that what is being explored here is the "culture-in-between" described by Homi Bhabha. He writes: " the hybrid strategy or discourse opens up a space of negotiation where power is unequal but its articulation may be equivocal. Such negotiation is neither assimilation nor collaboration... They deploy the partial culture from which they emerge to construct visions of community, and versions of historic memory, that give narrative form to the minority positions they occupy; the outside of the inside; the part in the whole" (Bhabha 1996: 58).

Polyvocality on the Margins: the French Case The Rue des Rosiers area in Paris was known as a Jewish area already in the Middle Ages, but a series of expulsions left a long period of Jewish absence, till the 19th century, when Jews began to return to Paris in ever larger numbers. At first Jews came from Alsace and other parts of France, but towards the end of the century increasing numbers were coming from Poland and Russia. By the mid-19 t h century, Jewish schools, orphanages and synagogues were built in the area, reinforcing the Jewish character of the area.

Low rents continued to attract further newcomers in the 20 th century, but the German occupation of Paris led to the deportation of most of the Jewish residents in the area. After the war, some of the former residents returned to live in the area, but it was a dwindling community. The Ashkenasi population, many of them originally from Poland, gradually moved out, and in 1963 sold the synagogue at number 17 Rue des Rosiers to the Lubavitch Hassidic movement. But by the late 1950s and early 1960s it was mainly the Sephardi population f r o m North Africa that was moving into the area, fleeing uncertainty and political unrest in North Africa and seeking refuge in the midst of a well-known Jewish quarter which also offered cheap housing (Brody 1995). In the 1990s, the Jewish character of the Rue des Rosiers area is still unmistakable. The area itself attracts other Jews, from other parts of town w h o come to shop and eat in the Kosher restaurants. Jewish tourists also drop in to soak in the atmosphere, to shop, enjoy Jewish cuisine, see an exhibition by an Israeli artist, or learn about the particular history of this particular corner of Paris. It is an area where you can come in order to participate in and identify with a Jewish way of life, whether you be Ashkenasi or Sephardi, religious or secular. The Rue des Rosiers area attracts a stream of visitors, Jews and non-Jews, w h o come to it to recapture a brief vision of what has been lost elsewhere. They come to gaze upon a live Jewish community, a Jewish community that is not ashamed of parading its Jewishness for all to see.

Conclusion Collective memory is of necessity selective, but I have sought to argue that such selectivity is based on conflicts and power relationships that pertain to the prèsent rather than the past. The focus for this paper has been spatial narratives that have become associated with the built-environment and have become enmeshed with collective memory. A key feature of such space narratives is the way in which they reflect centre-margin relationships. I outlined first of all a period of collective amnesia, from the 1950s till the 1960s, in which many Jewish communities in Europe sought to keep a low profile. Official policy at that time generally sought to deny or "forget" any spatial narrative that specifically linked certain buildings or sites to former Jewish setdement in the area. Yet, by the mid-to-late 1970s, renewed interest in Jewish buildings, Jewish sites and all aspects of Jewish culture had swept across many parts of Europe. This trend gathered even more m o m e n t u m in the 1980s and 1990s. T o begin with it was particularly the centre that took an active interest in such spatial narratives and sought to revive such narratives by rebuilding and renovating old synagogues and Jewish communal buildings. In Germany, guilt over the Holocaust was an important motivating factor. Elsewhere, the promotion of cultural tourism and the attempt to rejuvenate inner city areas by transforming medieval or renaissance sites into tourist attractions, provided an important impetus to reviving Jewish spatial narratives.

Yet, invariably, the narratives of spaces on the margins are contested narradves. Indeed, it is doubtful whether German municipalities, state and federal governments would have taken such an active interest in Jewish sites and Jewish narrarives in the 1980s and 1990s if there had not been a groundswell of interest at the grass root level at the time. In Kazimierz, the Jewish quarter of Krakow, non-Jewish Poles initiated a move to revive a specifically Jewish narrative in the area by introducing a Jewish cultural festival. In Paris, the Rue des Rosiers area has become an area for competing narratives involving at least two centuries of successive waves of Jewish immigrants. At each stage there has been a contest for supremacy in the area, with conflicts and tensions between the various groups. And yet, in each case there has also been a blending together, to produce a new space narrative and space myth, in order to retain a vital and vibrant identity on the margins, an identity which truly represents the "culture-in-between." While this paper has ranged widely over different countries in Europe, over different phases of the post-war period, I have sought to illustrate the manner in which collective memory and space narratives essentially reflect the nature of centre-margin relationships at the time.

References Bhabha, H. 1996. "Culture's In-Between." In Questions of Cultural Identity. Ed. S. Hall and P. du Gay. London: Sage Publications, 53—60. Brody, J. 1995. Rue des Rosiers: une maniéré d'étrefuif. Paris: les Editions Autrement. Deitmer, F. 1997. Scientific Officer, Jewish Museum in Rendsburg, letter to the author, dated 12.6.1997.

Gruber, E. R. 1996. Filling the Jewish Space in Europe. New York: The American Jewish Committee. , 1998. "Museum provides Bologna with gateway to Judaism." The Jewish Chronicle , April 3, 5. Huyssen, A. 1995. Twilight Memories. London: Routledge Kugelmann, C. 1996. "Das Judische Museum als Exponat der Zeitgeschichte." In Wiener

Jahrbuch fur Jüdische Geschichte, Kultur und Museums Wesen. Band 2. 1995/1996 , Vienna: Verlag Christian Brandstatter, 43-77.

Milton, S. and Nowinski, I. 1991. In Fitting Memory: The Art and Politics of Holocaust Memorials. Detroit: Wayne State University Press. Neumann, K. 1998. "Cropped Images." In Humanities Research. 1. Canberra: T h e Humanities Research Centre, Australian National University. Offe, S. 1997. "Sites of Remembrance? Jewish Museums in Contemporary Germany."

Jewish Social Studies, 3, 2, 77-89. Reuter, F. 1992. "Jewish Worms: Rashi House and Judengasse." Taken from an original

article published in Der Wormsgau, Wtssenschajliche Zeitschrift der Stadt Worms, 15, 1987/91, repr. in 1992 with the support of the Altertumsvereins W o r m s e.V., Worms. Shields, R. 1991. Places on the Margin. London: Routledge.

Young, J. 1993. The Texture of Memory: Holocaust Memorials and Meaning, New Haven: Yale University Press.

Music

AND T H E R E / C O N S T R U C T I O N

OF 20 TH C E N T U R Y IBERIAN C R Y P T O - J E W I S H IDENTITY JUDITH R . COHEN Toronto, Canada In the early 1920's, the Polish Ashkenazi engineer Samuel Schwarz published a book on the hidden Jews of Belmonte in Portugal, and shortly afterwards Captain Arturo de Barros Basto began his "rescue operation" or "obra de resgate," setting in motion a series of events which changed their lives dramatically. Since that time, interest in the Crypto-Jews has waxed and waned, but over the latter decades of the 20 th century, pardy as a result of political changes in both Spain and Portugal, and the expulsion quincentennials of 1992 and 1997, it has escalated sharply. There are indeed Iberian people w h o have maintained, throughout the centuries and generations, at least some identification and vestigial Jewish practices or family memories of them; and there are, of course, concrete remnants of Jewish neighbourhoods and buildings scattered over the peninsula. But there are also imagined communities, 1 people and areas identified as Jewish or Crypto-Jewish for other reasons; sometimes sincere wishful thinking, at other times for religious purposes, and, increasingly, related to the perception of commercial possibilities of tourism aimed at the "discerning traveller." Tours are set up to visit Crypto-Jewish towns and O J Q ' s (old Jewish quarters), and festivals have sprung up, proclaiming themselves survivals of a Jewish p a s t — o r even if they do not proclaim themselves as such, popular perception often does it for them. F o r the anthropologist and ethnomusicologist, aside from its obvious relationship to the rather overworked preoccupation with the " O t h e r , " this develo p m e n t offers a fertile opportunity to explore the issue of imagined communities, the anthropology of tourism and festivals, musical appropriation and what Rene Lysloff has referred to as "plunderphonics." Here, I propose to focus o n musical aspects: the use of music as an identity marker in both "authentic" and imagined Crypto-Jewish communities and events in Spain and Portugal. My observations are based o n two years of fieldwork in historically Crypto-Jewish areas along the Portuguese-Spanish border. 2

This term is adapted from Benedict Anderson's pioneering use of it; see Anderson 1983/1991. This work was made possible by research grants from York University and from the Social Sciences and Humanides Research Council of Canada which I gratefully acknowledge. Fieldwork was often carried out with the help of my research assistant and collaborator, J o s e - R a m o n Aparicio, in Galicia, and of my daughter, Tamar liana Cohen Adams.

Fieldwork approaches In my years of fieldwork among Sephardim in several countries, idendficadon has been the easy part. Working with Crypto-Jews is a different story: for obvious reasons, sauntering into the main bar or square of a village and calling out, "will all the hidden Jews please come out and be taped?" is not a viable strategy. Even when identification is not the main problem, some people don't want to be interviewed about Crypto-Jewish traditions; others object to being taperecorded. While there is no longer the overt danger of the Inquisition, secrecy has been built into Crypto-Judaism. Even the most well-meaning ethnographer and tourist, myself included, can be seen, if not as an actual threat, then at least as a nuisance—oxymoronically, as a benevolent (one hopes) end-product of the Inquisition. In the small villages, people sometimes identify themselves as "Judeu," usually not at the first meeting, and have tended to be more open to being taped, sometimes even enthusiastically. Other people might say that Jews "used to live here but not now." In most cases, however, these same people don't mind responding to the same general ethnomusicological questionnaire we've developed for everyone, whether or not they have Jewish origins: musical preferences, musical occasions, local repertoire and so. We also ask about Jewishrelated tradidons by embedding questions into a more general frame-work, songs of or about "other" groups, mule-drivers (often associated with Jews), contrabandistas (same thing, not so different from the Canadian Jewish bootiegging activities!), "mouros," or "ciganos." For musicians in imagined communities, the questionnaire includes selection of repertoire, song arrangements, the role of the group leader, and any perceived relation of Judeo-Spanish songs to local tradition.

The Repertoire What emerges from these two years are several levels of musical life and repertoires. For the musical life of imagined communities, what is specifically Jewish, as far as I can see, is all from outside, though as time goes on, it tends to acquire a mythological community ancestry. I will focus on (I) the "real" Portuguese Crypto-Jewish communities, summarizing the levels of musical life and briefly discussing their possible origins and their functions as identity markers for peopie both inside and outside the communities. Then I will briefly explain (II) the use of Sephardic music in two imagined community festivals on the Spanish side of the border. T H E REAL

C R Y P T O - J E W I S H REPERTOIRE, IN P O R T U G A L

A. "INDIGENOUS," mosdy recited, rather than sung, prayers and Biblical ballads B . J E W I S H IMPARTED / ACQUIRED SONGS

1. early 20h century, auto-identified as traditional a) Judah and Tamar b) ]udeo-Spanish ("Ladino") and Hebrew songs; Hatikvab 2. later 20h century

C . S H A R E D LOCAL R E P E R T O I R E

1. considered Jewish by Jews 2. considered Jewish by non-Jews 3. general repertoire D . M U S I C A L PREFERENCES

Before discussing musical repertoire, a little information about Captain Arturo de Barros Basto is in order. He was a charismatic figure born into a CryptoJewish family from the Porto area in the late 19th century. After founding his own religion, "Oryamism", he eventually converted to formal Judaism, and devoted all his spare time to what he called the "obra de resgate," the "rescue mission"—identifying Crypto-Jews in remote areas of the country and "bringing them back to the fold"; he also set up a Yeshiva and was the moving force behind the establishment of the Porto synagogue. His is a fascinating story, but time does not permit me to discuss more of it than its musical implications here.

A. "Indigenous " repertoire The prayer texts and Biblical ballads which appear to be the oldest part of the Crypto-Jewish repertoire are now mosdy recited rather than sung, and are mosdy performed and transmitted by the women, w h o also are in charge of much of ritual life. The Biblical ballad texts have been printed several times, and consitute Amilcar Paulo's Romanceiro Criptojudaico (1969). The problems surrounding the origins of the prayers have been discussed at length by specialists with more experience than I have with Inquisition records and other archival sources (da Costa Fontes, Gitlitz). The prayer texts themselves have been available in print for much of this century, often through Schwarz's book (see also Canelo, Garcia, da Costa Fontes), which some women use as a source. The Biblical ballads, not surprisingly, recount situations of danger, rescue and faith: "Jonah and the Whale," "The Sacrifice of Isaac," "Daniel and the Lions." Recitarions are done quickly and quiedy—there are obvious historical reasons for speed and sonic discretion The ballad which is still actually sung, at Passover, is "The Crossing of the Red Sea." It appears, with a musical transcription, as far back as Schwarz's book, with the same tune as the current one (Schwarz 1925: 93—4). I was somewhat bemused to read Schwarz's description of the melody as "oriental and exotic" and that it "therefore dates back to very early times" (46-7). Schwarz was a highly educated Polish Ashkenazi Jew, from a highly-educated family; his identification of "oriental" with early Iberian Jewish life is easily understandable, especially in the context of late 19 th -early 20 th century Romanticism. But why would he characterize this rather pedestrian melody as "oriental" or "exotic"? Portuguese people of any socio-economic level we hummed it to immediately characterized it as "a march." N o one could give it a specific name, though a similarity was suggested between one section of the song and the well-known

mid—19th century revolutionary hymn Maria da Fonte3 which in fact Barros Basto was fond of singing (Jean-Jarval 1929: 60). We perceived only a vague resemblance, but perhaps Crypto-Jewish women associate "Maria" — f o r Myriam—in the Red Sea ballad with Maria da Fonte, another strong woman in the role of rescuer. 4 I can see two main reasons for for Schwarz's "oriental" characterization. One is that when he met the Crypto-Jews in 1917, they may have sung it differendy from the way they sing it today. In my field recordings, and those I have heard from the 1980's5 and in the film The Last Marranos (Brenner et al) and in an Israeli video (Lossin), it is sung in a straightforward style, with a steady rhythm. Perhaps in Schwarz's time it was sung in a more rubato, more ornamented style which inspired his description? I find this somewhat unlikely, as at that time they were even more "secret" than now and likely used the quick, discreet style of the prayers—still, it's possible. Or else, this orientalism reflected Schwarz's own reception of the song, and an example of wishful thinking: for romantic or funding-related reasons, or both, he wanted to identify it as a survival of pre-Expulsion or at least cercaInquisition times. At any rate, the song has become an identity marker of the Crypto-Jews of Belmonte (I haven't heard it anywhere else). The Lossin film uses it as a musical leitmotif, played romantically on a shepherd's flute (khalil) and other instruments at strategic moments. I have often heard it sung quiedy, as a prayer, by different individuals or small family groups. At the 1998 seder at the new synagogue in Belmonte, it was sung collectively and loudly by several community members present. Musically, the question is: when did this particular melody become associated with the ballad: presumably sometime between the mid-late 19th century and the time Schwarz first heard it around 1917? And how? This question about melody acquisition/appropriation forms a bridge to the next section:

B. Jewish imparted I acquired songs ι. Early 20h-century,

auto-identified

as

traditional

Going doggedly through its thirty years of Ha-Lapid, the newsletter Barros Basto founded, edited and distributed to "his" Jewish communities, I found numerous musical references, including nodces of books received, of Lisbon recitals by a Moroccan Sephardic woman musician; and of visits from various rabbis from different countries. In Sous le charme du Portugal by Lily Jean Jarval, a French Jewish journalist who accompanied the Captain on some of his trips to Crypto-Jewish villages, the author,, apparendy more "sous le charme du Capitaine" than "le charme du Portugal", describes him, with his "Napoleonic pro3

4

5

Conversation with Maria-Antonieta Garcia, author of Os Judeus de Belmonte, at her home in Fundào, near Belmonte, N o v e m b e r 1996. The use of local patriotic hymn tunes for religious contrafacta in Jewish culture was commented on during this same EAJS congress by my colleague, Edwin Seroussi (1998). I would like to express my deepest thanks to Professor Simha Arom and to Inacio Steinhart for their generosity in sending me copies of recordings from their field coUecdons.

file," reciting medieval Galician-Portuguese poetry, and singing everything from tango to Portuguese regional songs, including improvised desaßo's. His daughter also described his wide musical interestsat musical soirees in his home, his wife or son would play piano while he sang everything from the repertoire already described to Gounod's Ave Maria.6 a) Judah and Tamar There is one narrative ballad identified by Belmonte Jews as "ours", and recorded by Amilcar Paulo among Jews in the Bragança area as well; it is sung at weddings and around Purim. While those who know it will say it has "always" been around, neither the text nor the music seems very "old." Barros Basto published the text in the 1920's, in Ha-Lapid with a note about "Black Judah the medieval troubadour of Ceuta" in a different issue. The story, in simple rhymed couplets, tells of Judah the impoverished troubadour and the lovely, wealthy Tamar; Judah serenades her beneath her window, the father refuses permission (we don't hear about the mother), Tamar runs off with Judah at night to the head rabbi Eliezar (there was one of that name in pre-Expulsion Lisbon); the latter persuades the father to give them his blessing. The melody is a simple dance tune, to which a refrain has been added. Interestingly, the tune is N O T from either the Belmonte or the Bragança area, but rather from the region where Barros Basto spent his adult life, the Minho. It sounds familiar to everyone there, and every specialist in Portuguese folk music we've talked to can "almost" identify it, but not quite; still, they agree that whatever else it is, it's not from either the Belmonte or the Tras-os-Montes areas where it's sung. While the Belmonte woman who first sang it for me said the song has "always" been in her family, her sister told us it was "brought from Porto": that their father, then the area's mailman, had "received" it from there. This could mean someone from Porto taught it to him or perhaps that the words came in Ha-Lapid. Could it have been introduced or even composed by Barros Basto? It has a Porto-area tune, has been described as coming from Porto, its text appears in Ha-Lapid, while Barros Basto had a solid knowledge of history, wide musical tastes and a knack for singing desafios and composing contrafacta. Whoever introduced it, the song has become for the Crypto—Jews in Belmonte a symbol of their identity. b) "Ladino " and Hebrew There have been confusing reports about "Ladino" songs and Hebrew prayers among Portuguese Crypto-Jews, leading to speculation about their survival from pre-Expulsion times. A Portuguese translation of Hatikvah also dates to this time period, but there is not much mystery about its presence. A 1970's thesis from South Africa includes transcriptions of several songs in Judeo-Spanish and Hebrew which the author says she collected in Portugal before the 1974 Revolution. She doesn't identify the songs in Judeo-Spanish as what they are: relatively recent lyric compositions of the eastern Judeo-Spanish 6

Conversations with Myriam Azancot, Porto, Portugal, May 1997 and September 1998.

tradition. I have been able to trace most of the people she lists as "informants". Many have died, and memories of her are sparse when they exist at all. O n e woman she cites as singing "Ladino" songs told me she couldn't remember having sung anything but local songs at any time in her life, including whatever she learned in a choir directed by a local woman who had studied piano for years in Lisbon. This now elderly woman, however, told me she had only spent a short time in Lisbon, and none of the songs was at all familiar to her. 7 O f the Miranda/Bragança area people, most had died, but I found the men's names in lists of students who attended Barros Basto's Yeshiva. So, the songs would appear to be, rather than vesdges of pre-Expulsion days, vestiges of the early decades of the 20 th century—interesting, of course, in itself, and a possible example of re-appropriation, conscious or otherwise. O n the cassette which forms part of the thesis, 8 the few Judeo-Spanish songs included are performed by a Bosnian rabbi instead of by the "informants"; in fact, none of the recorded exampies seems to be from her actual fieldwork, so it is difficult to say anything more detailed about them. A journalist in Guarda, near Belmonte, informed me that he himself belongs to an old Crypto-Jewish family and that in Guarda there is a "community" which continues to pray and sing in Hebrew and "Ladino," learned from the Yeshiva in Porto. However, although he initially agreed to take me to visit members of this group and Yeshiva descendants in certain villages, he has been consistendy unavailable, apparendy for other visitors as well.

2. Later 20'h century Jewish imparted/acquired songs Since 1990, Belmonte has had two rabbi's and one young shokhet who performed some of a rabbi's functions, resident in the town, and a lot of Jewish visitors from abroad. Their reception of liturgical melodies and Israeli songs constitutes this part of their musical life. We were astonished to hear of a woman in a nearby village who sang "real Crypto-Jewish songs"; we interviewed her and were treated to her version of "Eretz" classics (Hinei ma tov, Ushavte mayim, etc.). I learned in Jewish summer camp in the 1960's. Herself a practicing Catholic, she had learned them from rabbis and visitors while working in Belmonte over the years, and had taught them to the women's singing group she directs. The most recent acquisitions in the local Jewish repertoire concern Belmonte and the immediate area only (aside from the mainstream Jewish community in Lisbon and the small synagogue of Porto): they are from the rabbis and other recent visitors. Few people are able to lead a service or even participate fully; and of course different visitors have brought different melodies. The popular Judeo-Spanish song Cuando el rej Nimrod has entered musical life in 7 8

Conversations, Lisbon 1997 and 1998, Castelo de Vide 1998. As well, at least two examples are taken from pre-existent recordings and incorrecdy attributed; one appears to be sung by the author herself. This is pointed out as a caution against taking undocumented material literally and assuming song origins where they do not in fact exist. T h e author died around the time I first came across her thesis; her husband kindly sent m e a copy of the cassette and is not himself aware of or responsible for its inconsistencies.

Belmonte both as a melody for Hebrew texts and as a song in its own right, in a Portuguese translation by the rabbi there in 1990-1992. Other Israeli songs and the "Ya'asaeh Shalom" popularized in many parts of the Jewish world have been absorbed. The song repertoire also depends on visitors, of course: for example, they didn't know any Passover songs. I confess to ethnographic interference; I have given a few informal concerts of Sephardic and related songs, and taught them the Passover cumulative song "Had Gadya" in a Moroccan JudeoSpanish version, which they automatically translated into Portuguese. 9

C. Shared local repertoire ι. Seen as "Jewish " by Jews In Belmonte, self-identified Jews may say they don't sing the songs of the "goios," but in fact I've recorded a similar repertoire among "Judeus" as among those with no known (or admitted) Jewish origins. In fact, at the Passover picnic in 1998, one of the men played harmonica and the first tune he offered, although nobody sang the words, I instandy identified as a song for the feast of the Virgen in a nearby village. They were so amused at my ability to identify it that I wondered whether the choice of melody had been a joke, inspired by my presence. Women at the picnic also told me that they sometimes composed satirical contrafact texts using local melodies, but wouldn't sing any of these for me. In the summer of 1997, some Belmonte women referred to certain jogos de roda as "ours" and others as "not ours." So far, I haven't been able to identify any pattern or anything in the texts or melodies, to explain this identification; I have found the same ones known to people of the same generation all around the area. But the jogos themselves were, until recendy, part of the Passover picnie. They have traditionally been done by adults as well as children, but have fallen into disuse in much of the country, not only among the Jews. In the 1920's, Jews of Bragança in Tras-os-Montes are described singing and dancing a jogo de roda with new words, " E mais um hebreu/que na roda entrou" (Vasconcelos 1958: 173). I identified it as a contrafact of a well-known jogo de roda, "e mais um cravo," ("mais um cavaleiro," "e mais um pandeiro," "mais uma rosa" if a woman, etc.). T o me, the use of this particular jogo de roda, and perhaps of jogos de roda in general, especially at the Belmonte Passover picnics, suggested an identification, whether conscious or unconscious, of a circle of safety to which one Crypto-Jew, and another and yet another, "mais um, mais uma," enters.

2. Seen as Jewish by many non-Jews There are two ritual songs to which some people attribute Jewish origins. O n e is the Encomendaçào das Almas, a song for the departed souls, part of village Easter ritual, and the other is the "Twelve words, or two tablets of Moses." Neither can be sung inside the church, only outside it. The second is a cumulative chant, Their quick absorption of the song was undoubtedly facilitated by the existence of a Portuguese folksong almost idenrical to it (Barros Basto 1926).

known as Las doce palabras ditasj retomeadas, sometimes with its refrain only sung (see Espinosa). In Spain it's used as a Christmas song, but in Portugal often as a deathbed ritual. It's very similar to the Passover cumulative song Ekhad mijodea, but mixes Christian and Old Testament imagery. In the villages, both or one of these may be attributed to Jews, but not usually BY the Jews themselves. By extension, songs from an area idenufied with Jewish history may be considered "Jewish," as was the case with two young tradidonal musicians from a village near Miranda do Douro, idenufied all the songs in an anthology from nearby Sendim as "Jewish." They also produced the mystifying statement that local singing in parallel thirds has a "distincdy Jewish (synagogal) flavour" and originates from Jewish refugees in the Miranda area; and that they "christianized" their Hebrew songs into the Encomendaçào das almas, as well as lullabies, love songs, work songs, pastoral songs and satirical songs—i.e. the entire traditional repertoire! (Topa 1998: 91). In a similar vein, at least one Ashkenazi group I have met, in an American city with a large Portuguese population, is convinced that Ε ado is of Jewish origin because it is Portuguese and because it is associated with nostalgia and melancholy.

Shared repertoire not identified as Jewish This varied, but by and large the Judeus seemed to have a similar range of repertoire as their neighbours.

D. Musical Preferences In Tras-os-Montes, people often characterized Jews as preferring lyric, romantic songs, sometimes distinguishing the "Judeus" from the "lavradores," the farmworkers. Jews, they said, prefer string to percussion instruments, and favour romantic love songs over work-related songs. In both Bragança and the Mogadouro area we were told that the "Judeus" were more lively, liked happy songs and were the first to start them off, during Carnaval and other times, contrary to the stereotype of the "melancholy" image mentioned earlier. In both Tras-osMontes and the Belmonte area, people of Jewish descent as well as those who weren't talked of having sung and played the jogos de roda. Besides the Judeu/Lavradores preferences, Judeus often indicated the fado as a preference—this appreciation was shared with the population at large, though they didn't always mean the same fado.w Among those Crypto-Jews who had formally converted to Judaism and were affiliated with the new synagogue, "anything Jewish" was often stated as a preference. Some women shared a local fondness for the broadside ballads which used to be circulated by the cego's, itinerant blind singers, or by mule-drivers. In fact, as far as I could see, even when Judeus profess not to have anything to do with songs of the local "goios," they seem to have the same appreciation for local music events such as a rancho open-air performance.

10

O f t e n they specified Coimbra fado, in others the rural fado, which is very different f r o m that of the clubs in Lisbon.

The

"imaginedcommunities"

My main focus for this section is the Testa da Istoria in Ribadavia, in Galicia. I have discussed Ribadavia's case in more detail elsewhere (Cohen 1996; forthcoming), so will be very brief here. Today's Testa traces its origins to an annual event which took place from the late 17th through the mid-19th centuries, and which seems to have involved a street festival and performances of plays with Old Testament themes; it may well have been of converso origin. In the m i d 1980's, this Istoria was re-invented, and given a medieval fair atmosphere in Ribadavia's picturesque streets. Later, they added a "Sefardi wedding." As the tourist involvement (and income) grew, and Ribadavia became part of the Caminos de Sefarad, a "Coordinadora," or organizing committee, was established, which is now taking formal steps to form the Fundacion Festa da Istoria. The event has become an odd combination of a North American-style pseudo-medieval festival and an object of quasi-veneration to many people who believe it is a "real" medieval Sephardic festival rising phoenix-like from the ashes of centuries—even with its pork sausages for sale under a huge Maguen David banner. Local villagers have told me the Ribadavians "must be real Jews" because they make so much money at it, so it has actually ended up reinforcing negative stereotypes. Meanwhile, the small Porto Jewish community has taken to bringing a Sefer Torah and conducting a Friday night service in the former Church of the Madalena, with a concluding mini-concert by the Ribadavia singing group—an event enthusiastically attended by tourists and, of course, the media—so that the church has become both de-sacralized and re-sacralized, in MacCannell's anthropology of tourism terminology, and the boundary between religious observance and performance has become blurred. Ribadavia did indeed have a Jewish population, a very active one, before the expulsion; and the area maintains considerable tradition of people who are descended from Jews. But no one, to my knowledge, is seeking to formally regain Jewish identity or even say they are Jewish. The same is true of Hervás, which now holds a "Jewish festival," in which residents of the O J Q (Old Jewish Quarter) wear "medieval Jewish clothes" and the local folk music ensemble performs Judeo-Spanish songs learned from various CD's. The "Hotel Sinagoga" has a billboard at the town entrance, and there is an Inquisition comic book for sale at the tourist office. A local "taverna" has added a Maguen David, paraleling Ribadavia's "Bar Ο Judeu" ("The Jew Bar"). Here and elsewhere, it is as if the buildings have not only become sacralized, but have taken the place of peopie, a Sites-R-Us community of stone instead of souls. But to return to music: in Hervás, the local traditional ensemble has learned several of their Judeo-Spanish songs from commercially available recordings; these songs have somehow become associated with their own "heritage." 11 In 11

Ironically, both the Hervás and the Ribadavia singing groups learned many songs f r o m my own recordings with the Canadian Sephardic ensemble Gtrine/do, though at the time they didn't know w h o I was. In 1998 my daughter and I sang one song during their performance at the festival, and a photograph of us appeared in a national Spanish newspaper identifying us as residents of Hervás' O J Q , though I had taken pains to tell the photographer we were Canadian!

Ribadavia, oddly enough, Gerine/do's CD's also played an important role in the acquisition of song repertoire, supplemented by Gloria Levy's 1950's recording of popular Judeo-Spanish songs from the eastern lyric repertoire, and later by Flory Jagoda's compositions. T o my surprise, when I asked the women why they had made certain melodic changes in a song they'd learned from Gerineldo, the answer was, "oh, we've ALWAYS sung it that way" While "always" is a reasonable extrapolation from a traditional village with two short generations of women, as in Belmonte; it is quite another proposition in a group which had learned their repertoire from CDs purchased at the Corte Inglés two years earlier! Over a very short time, the songs became internalized as part of " o u r " repertoire, to the point where the answer they gave me became possible, with no sense of incongruity on their part. This appropriation of the repertoire is not a deliberate misleading action on their part: they've always sung, they've always known that the O J Q is the OJQ, and learning Sephardic songs is just another, perfecdy logical aspect of it for them. So, we are left: with real communities; imagined aspects of real communities; individuals and groups who have not "come out" so cannot be studied; buildings almost anthropomorsized; other buildings given a Jewish status they may not have had, and imagined communities to inhabit these buildings and sing songs which are then imagined to go back to their imagined roots. O n e may treat these developments as falsifications, or misleading at best; or, one may retort that in the case of Crypto-Jews or even towns and villages of known Jewish history, it is simply a question of re-appropriation of part of their own culture they happened to miss out on for five centuries; or, one may adopt the determinedly neutral standpoint of postmodernist anthropology, finding along with Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, Bendix, Stoeltje and others that it's just a new tradition, a new, valid creative expression. Some of my colleagues here in Spain, notably Josep Marti in Catalunya, have carried out studies of folklorized festivais, invented traditional festivals and so on. But in this case, perhaps the difference is mis-representing a tragic part of history and not so much reducing it to folklore as reducing it to a folklore which wasn't even its own; turning a tragic stage of history into a tourist event. And, people are, if not claiming to be, then being told they are, who they are not. In both cases, the "real" and "imagined" communities, music is used as part of the process of harnessing and re-shaping the memory of who they were—or who they might have been—or who one would like them to have been—or who they think others might like them to have been. Music whose history is unknown to many of the protagonists has become part of rewriting a popular version of Iberian Jewish history.

Sources cited Anderson, Β. 1983, 1991. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread o/Nationalism. Verso. Azancot, M. 1997, 1998. Interviews, Oporto. Basto, A. de Barros 1926. Η'ad Gadiah, Influênaas hebráicas no folclore portugûes. Porto: Insrituto Teologico Israelita. Brenner, F., Neumann, S., Steinhart, I. 1990. Les Derniers Marranes (vidéocassette). France, SEPT-Télévision. Canelo, D. A. 1985. Os Ultimos Judeus Secretos. Belmonte: Jornal de Belmonte. , 1996. Ο Resgate dos Marranes Portugueses. Belmonte: David Augusto Canelo. Cohen, J. 1996. "Bringing it All Back Home: Sephardic Re-Creation in a Galician T o w n . " D0naire 6, 98-106. , forthcoming. " 'We've always Sung it that Way!': Re/Appropriarion of Medieval Spanish Jewish Culture in a Galician T o w n . " In Charting Memory: Recalling Medieval Spain, special issue of Hispanic Issues. Ed. S. Beckwith. da Costa Fontes, M. 1990-93. "Four Portuguese Crypto-Jewish Prayers and their 'Inquisitorial' Counterparts." Mediterranean Language Review 6—7, 67—104. Espinosa, A. 1930. "Origen oriental y desarollo histôrico del cuento de las doce palabras retorneadas." Revista de Filologia Espanola 17, 390—413. Garcia, M. A. 1993. Os Judeus de belmonte. Lisbon: Universidade Nova. Gitlitz, D. 1996. Secrecy and Deceit, the Religion of the Crypto-Jews. Philadelphia: Jewish Publicadon Society. Ha-Lapid, monthly (irregular) publicadon. Ed. A. de Barros Bastos (Oporto) 1928-58. Jean-Jarval, L. 1929. " E m Bragança, entre os Marranos." Ha-Lapid 2 4 / 4 , 1—4. , 1929. Sous le charme du Portugal. Paris. Lysloff, R. T. A. 1997. "Mozart in Mirrorshades: Ethnomusicology, Technology and the Politics of Representation." Ethnomusicology 41 / 2 , 206-219. Lossin, Y. (dir.) 1992. Out of Spain 1492 (Belmonte 1-2) (vidéocassette). Jerusalem: Israel Broadcasting Authority. MacCannell, D. 1976. The Tourist, a New Theory of the Leisure Class. New York: Schocken. Marti, J. 1996. ElFolklorismo, usoy abuso de la tradiciôn. Barcelona: Ronsel. Mea, E. de Azevedo & Steinhart, I. 1997. Ben-Rosb, Biografla do Capitào Barros Basto, 0 Apôstoh dos Marranos. Oporto: Afrontamento. Nabarro, M. 1978. The Music of the Western European Sephardic Jews and the Portuguese Marranos: an Ethnomusicological Study. (Unpublished M.A. thesis, University of South Africa). Paulo, A. 1969. Romanceiro Criptojudâico: Subsidies para 0 estudo dofolclore marrano. Bragança. , 1985. Os Judeus Secretos em Portugal Oporto, Laberinto. Schwarz, S. 1925. Os Crischàos-Novos em Portugal no Seculo XX. (Reprint. Lisbon: Universidade Nova, 1993). Seroussi, E. 1998. "Fuentes Musicales del Cancionero Sefardi." Toledo, European Assodation for Jewish Studies Congress. Paper published in this volume. Topa, A. 1998. "Galandum, Galandaina." In Festival Intercéltico programme booklet. Ed. M. Correia. Oporto: Discantus, 77-82. Vasconcellos, J. L. de 1958. Etnografla Portuguesa, Tentame da sistematiyaçào. Vol. 4. Lisbon: Impresa Nacional-Casa de Moeda.

T H E J E W S ' REFUSAL T O BELIEVE 19TH C E N T U R Y D U T C H P O L E M I C S C O N C E R N I N G T H E J E W S A N D T H E I R FATE JUDITH FRISHMAN Kathol. Theol. Universiteit te Utrecht, T h e Netherlands

In 1784 the first volume of Joseph Priestley's A Histoiy of the Corruptions of Christianity appeared in a Dutch translation. The uproar which it aroused led to heated discussions during the final sessions of the synod of the province of South Holland which was taking place in Dordrecht on the 5 t h -15 t h of July, 1785. A majority felt Priesdey's book "contained many things which undermined and vitiated the Dutch reformed religion." 1 It was decided to propose the founding of a society for the defense of the Christian (i.e. Protestant a n d / o r Reformed) religion so that, with the publication of anti-religious works like Priesdey's a prize would be offered to the author of the best refutation. Five members of the synod too impatient to await the reaction of the local churches decided to immediately found a society which became known as the Hague Sodety for the Defense of Christianity Against Its Present Day Adversaries. In order to achieve the goal of defending Christianity, it was decided to award a prize to the best treatise against Priesdey's work. Until 1967 prizes were awarded yearly to essays on theological subjects starring with several against Priestley. By the middle of the 19,h century the subjects dealt with differed gready from those in the previous fifty years and the name of the society was eventually reduced to the Hague Society for the Defense of Christianity?• At present the foundation is quite liberal and is even contemplating reducing its name to all but a shadow of what it once was, namely the Hague Society.‫נ‬ Apart form the Hague Society, there were two other societies similar in purpose to the aforesaid, which were founded in the same period: The Legatum Stoiplanum (1753) and Teyler's Theological Society (1778). All three societies were apologetic in nature, their purpose being to secure Christianity's place at the basis of society and prove that religion was not at all old-fashioned in a time of intellectual and scientific development. Of the three, the Hague Society was the most

1

2

‫נ‬

Heering, J. P. 1985. " T e n strijde tegen het verlichte Christendom!" In Op de bres. 200jaar Haagsch Genootschap tot verdediging van de christe/ijke godsdienst (1785-1985). 's-Gravenhage: Uitgeverij Boekencentrum Β. V., 5. Van Rossum, J. 1985. " H e t Haagsch G e n o o t s c h a p in de eerste eeuw van zijn bestaan." In Op de bres, 53-58. Smits, P. 1985. " D e theologische ontwikkelingsgang van het Haagsch G e n o o t s c h a p in zijn tweede eeuw." In Op de bres, 59-70.

opposed to enlightenment ideas such as rational belief and Deism. 4 This paper will specifically consider the Hague Society and more specifically the positions concerning the Jews voiced in the winning essays; those which did not win were alas not published and I fear are lost to posterity. N o w I must admit that my position in this undertaking is not one of disinterest. Almost three years ago I was appointed to a chair for the "History of Jewish-Christian Relations since the Reformation" at the University of Leiden, supported by the Hague Society. I was almost certain that the Jews were among the adversaries against whom the Society needed to defend Christianity. The Society's present day board was certain that this was not the case. As a result I decided to devote some time to studying the Society's publications and I will now present some preliminary findings. O f the eight essays which deal with Jews in one way or another only four treat the Jews at some length. These are: 1) Theophilus Piper's The Similarity and Difference Between the Earlier and Eater Opponents of Christianity (1788),5 2) Anton Möller's, Concerning the Jews' Incredulity (1795),6 3) The Truth of the Gospels as Attested to by the Fate of the Jewish Nation, written by Lucas Suringar and awarded a golden medal in 18097 and 4) Christiaan Kalkar's, Concerning the Israelite Theocracy (1841).8 The Hague Society itself suggested several topics for treatises per year. These topics, when not satisfactorily dealt with, would often be carried over to the next year or even the next two or three years. This means that entries could be received on as many as ten topics per year. In 1809, for example, the year in which Suringar's essay on The Jews' Fate was the only one awarded, entries could be submitted on such varied subjects as "The True Nature of Belief Whereby We Take Part in Reconciliation"—quite topical in the Netherlands and even the World Council of Churches today—"The Ascension Was N o Myth But Should Be Literally Understood," "The Origin and Genuineness of the Historical Books of the New Testament," and "The State of the Soul Between Death and Resurrection." 9 It is only within the entire framework of questions concerning the historicity of the Bible, Christianity and its institutions that the treatises concerning the Jews can be understood. I will return now to three of the winning essays in chronological order, the first being Theophilus Piper's essay of 1788. Piper was a doctor and professor of theology at the academy of Gryphiswald and preacher in St. Jacob's church in the same town. The author opens his essay on the Similarity and Difference Between 4

5

6

7

8

9

Van Leeuwen, Th. M. 1985. "Een godsdiensrig genootschap in de verlichdngsdjd." In Op de bres, 22-26. Piper, Th. C. 1788. De overtenkomst en bet verschit tusschen de vroegere en latere bestrijders van den christelijken godsdienst: Verhandelingen van het genootschap tot verdediging van den christelijken godsdienst. 's Haege, Amsterdam, Haerlem: J. du Mee & Zoon, J. Allart, C. van der Aa. Möller, A. W. P. 1795. Over het ongeloof der Joden: Prijsverhandelingen van het genootschap tot verdediging van den christelijken godsdienst, tegen des^elfs hedendaagsche bestrijderen. Amsterdam, Haerlem, 's Haege: J. Allart, C. van der Aa, B. Scheurleer. Suringar, L. 1809. De waarheid van het evangelic betoogd uit de lotgevallen der Joodsche natie. Amsterdam, , s Hage: J. AU art, B. Scheurleer. Kalkar, C. H. A. 1841. Over de Israelitische Godsregering: Verhandelingen, uitgegeven door het Haagsche Genootschap tot verdediging van de christelijke godsdienst, na desyetfs vijftigjarig bestaan. 's Gravenhage: D e erven Thierry en Mensing. Suringar 1809: 2 - 5 (Programma voor het jaar 1809).

Earlier and Later Opponents of Christianity by remarking that the Jews were the oldest and cruelest enemies of Christianity, and in view of the fact that the new opponents have borrowed much bitter slander from them, he has leafed through the Jews' books in order to discover in which writings the earlier and later slanderers agree.10 Piper notes that Celsus, Julianus, Porphyrius and the later Tindal, Collins, De La Serre and Jacob Amrams agree on several matters. Firsdy they compare the miracles of the New Testament to heathen miracle workers and the divine inspirarion of the prophets and aposdes with the Sybilline Oracles. 11 Voltaire and Hume place the establishes and lawgivers of the two Testaments in the same category as Lycurgus, Confucius and Mohammed, and the Holy Scriptures are valued no more highly than works of Herodotus, Josephus, Philo or Tacitus. 12 These critics in fact make no distinction between superstition and true religion; Voltaire, Piper notes, groups "our own purified religion (i.e. the Protestant one) together with the Catholic institutions"—a true insult. 13 In fact, all the opponents including Voltaire have adopted the ideas of both the Jews and the English philosophers Hobbes, Tindal, Collins, Toland and Morgan, Piper argues. These two groups are the sources of all later critique. Their arguments may be summarized as follows: a) It makes no differences which and how many gods are worshipped or whether God is nature or the world itself. b) Rationalism is most important, the mysteries and secrets of Christianity are rejected. c) The authority of the Scriptures is attacked and the holy books are said to have been purposefully forged. d) The opponents are disturbed by the account of the oldest history of the world—i.e. the books of Genesis and the stories of the forefathers. 14 R. Isaac, in Hisguq Emunah for example, claims that the New Testament was first written in the time of Constantine the Great; that Mark and Luke are not witnesses to their own records and the Gospels as a whole are not a divine institution.15 Present day opponents make similar claims based on higher criticism. Yet the heathens who were polytheists, would not have attacked the concept of the Trinity had the Jews not provided them with arguments concerning the oneness of G o d based on the words of Moses and the prophets in the Old Testament. So too the Arians, Muslims, Socinians, and the majority of English Dissenters and the Deists. 16 Piper must admit however that Jews of later times are considerably more sophisticated than their "crude" predecessors. Compare Hi?guq Emunah with Sefer Nisahim, he suggests. The author of Hisguq Emunah is more refined, more 10 11 12 13 14 15

Piper 1788: 11-12. Ibid., 35. Ibid., 37. Ibid., 40. Ibid., 53, 64, 68-69, 74. Ibid., 90-91.

knowledgeable of Old Testament and N e w Testament texts and of Jewish theology, and a better debater. That is why, Piper concludes, it would be best to overthrow these ideas because they strengthen the Jews in their errors and restrain them from embracing the truth. 17 The next winning essay is that of Anton Wilhelm Peter Möller, doctor and professor of theology at the royal Prussian University of Dulsberg. He responded to the question posed in 1795: What were the causes, characteristics and consequences of the Jew's incredulity concerning the person, doctrine and miracles of our Savior? H o w did Jesus and the aposdes respond to the unbelief and unbelievers of their time? T o what extent can Jesus' behavior serve as a model for us today? 18 According to Möller the cause of the Jews' incredulity was threefold: their civil state, religious decline and moral decline. 19 Beginning with the civil state Möller explains that the Jews' national belief in the one true G o d turned into extravagant national pride. Despite exile and foreign rule, Jews flourished and at the time of Christ the Jewish nation was highly regarded and spread throughout the civilized world. 20 They began to regard themselves as G o d ' s favorites and considered Jehova as their nadon's personal possession. 21 They hoped with the help of the messiah to be magnified above all nations. 22 Thus they were quite distanced from the true Israelite spirit of the moral kingdom and this led to the fall of the state. It is no surprise that they were deaf to Jesus' message in such circumstances. 23 As for the religious decline: since the rime of the reforms of Ezra and Nehemiah the Jews had made no visible progress concerning their understanding of G o d and his service. True they worshipped only the one G o d yet they became influenced by Neo-Platonic, Epicurean and Pythagorean philosophy, reducing their religion to an ardficially constructed shrewdness. 24 The religion became superficial, reduced to the precise observance of external ceremonies of the law mixed with superstition. Religion was reduced to a body without soul. 25 Lasdy, as for the Jews' moral decline: any other nation, had it been endowed with opportunities equal to those of the Jews, would have reached a much higher moral level. Jerusalem at the time of Christ was very wealthy and the priests w h o served as an example were power hungry, greedy and vain. It is no wonder that Jesus' call for repentance could not be heard and that he and his aposdes were persecuted. 26 Jesus' reaction to all this was moderate. He realized the Jews rejected him not while knowing better, but out of ignorance. Thus he treated them as errant and didn't damn them but remained patient, in any case with those including his own disciples, who had not become oblivious to im17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

Ibid., 253-256. Möller 1795: 17. Ibid., 22-23. Ibid., 35-36. Ibid., 38. Ibid., 39. Ibid., 54. Ibid., 72. Ibid., 73-74.

provement on account of immorality. 27 Jesus tried to arouse a moral sense, direcdng his words not only to the intellect but to the heart. Lasdy, he appealed to the truth. 28 His behavior was free of coercion as should present day methods be as well. It makes no sense to try to unite all with common creeds or to portray those who hold other opinions as enemies of the truth. Oppression, denouncements and theological arguments resemble in fact the Jews' behavior who thought they were doing God a favor by persecuting the aposdes. 29 O n the whole, Möllers arguments seem rather mild and indeed the jury members felt so as well. In the preface to the publication the latter note that the author might have brought the great inattentiveness and ignorance of the Jews regarding God's extremely fair justice more to the fore. Furthermore this ignoranee was one of the major causes of the nation's refusal to believe and led it to reject to doctrine of reconciliation. Because it is necessary now as well to warn against disbelief, one should consult Joh. Hoornbeek's De convincendis et convertendis ]udaeis and Fr. Spanheim's Controversiarum de Religione cum diffidentibus et cum infidelibus Judaeis Elenchus and other similar works. 30 Lasdy, there is Christiaan Kalkar's work Concerning the Israelite Theocracy. Kalkar, doctor of theology and philosophy and professor at the Cathedral School in Odense in Fiihnen, Denmark, was awarded the gold medal in 1841. The purpose of the essay was to indicate the differences between the Israelite theocracy and the structure of the priesdy castes of eastern peoples (and the later hierarchy). Furthermore Kalkar set out to prove the divine origin of the theocracy in order to refute doubts concerning the credibility of the historical books of the Old Testament, and lead to proper appreciation of the history of the Israelite nation. Kalkar commences by claiming that Israelite history differs from that of all other peoples on earth. Its history proves, as Herder wrote "that Israel must be the people of God, the reflection of God's relationship with people and their relation to him, the only God." 31 Theocracy can only be understood in the context of the promises made to the forefathers which were related to later events which would involve the entire world. 32 O n the one hand this theocracy was unique and in no way a copy of Egyptian or heathen institutions. O n the other hand, the religion which developed from this theocracy was in many ways just a signifier or symbol of the perfect things. 33 The Deists, such as Tindal, Toland, and Bolingbroke, who claim that Israelite religion is a product of the Jewish narrow-minded spirit and that Jehova is no more than a Volksgod and the government one of particularism are all wrong. Jehova is the Volksgod but also the God of creation, of all mankind. 34 Israelite theocracy is unique, not as the particularist limitations of God's love to one people, but as God's condescending 27

Ibid., 120.

28

Ibid., 122-125. Ibid., 154-155. Ibid., III (Voorbericht). Kalkar 1841: 8. Ibid., 13. Ibid., 17. Ibid., 24.

29 30 31 32 33 34

to a covenantal relationship with Israel until the fullness of time comes. 35 This particularism is thus tied to historical developments in the world in which there is a slow and steady progress of God's counsel. Even if the Jews, through fanadsm, slavishly adhered to works instead of voluntary obedience and thought themselves a privileged people, this does not reflect negatively upon the nature of theocracy itself.36 Furthermore, scholars like Hegel and Vatke are wrong to try to force Israelite religion into an all embracing theory of mythologies. The purpose of the Israelite theocracy is none other than, through the covenant, to make all holy because "I the Lord am holy." 37 This is unique. O n the other hand—like any other state—the Israelite state too needed laws and therefor Christianity does not abolish the law; in fact it states not "Thou shalt" but "Thou must. It only removed the external, legalistic forms. 38 But Kant is wrong in stating that the law was mainly externals and so can't be considered a true theocracy. The law seems rather external because it was given according to the ability of those who had just been freed as slaves. Yet it was never meant to attain solely external righteousness. It was meant to glorify God in love (cf. Deut 4, Deut 11 and Nu 15), even in the small details which are also types or symbols. 39 Already in the Bible it is clear, for example, that God does not desire real offers but the offers of a broken heart. Thus the Israelites—as opposed to Bruno Bauer's asserdons—realized at least partially the symbolic value of the laws.40 As for the difference between Israel and eastern religions: in contrast to oriental institutions, in Israel G o d is not represented by one figure; he is distinguished from his creatures, his government is not despotic, there are no castes and the religion is not without development. 41 Thus the Pope and the institutions of the Catholic church are not a reflection of the Israelite theocracy, as some claim, but a pure dictatorship, whereby the laity is excluded from the gifts of Christ and the priests alone participate. 42 The theocracy had deep influence on Israelite history. It insisted on holiness and introduced the notion of the desire for redemption. It led to joy for God's institutions, a moral loftiness which other nations did not achieve. They did not rejoice in their god's commandments but obeyed for fear of revenge or punishment from an angry or insulted god. 43 Israelite history is unique. Such a history cannot be concocted nor can such a people be invented. 44 In summary then, the three essays really seem to be aimed more against the Deists than against Jews. O n the contrary, the defense of Christianity seems to be dependent on the defense of Judaism, if not as practiced by the Jews since 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

Ibid., 25. Ibid., 27. Ibid., 60. Ibid., 66, note 1. Ibid., 76-77. Ibid., 87-88. Ibid., 168-170, 174. Ibid., 193. Ibid., 208. Ibid., 243.

the time of Jesus onward, at least in what these Chrisdan authors thought of as its pure, original form as intended by God. It is amazing how little attention is paid to contemporary Jews apart from Piper's brief references to Mendelssohn, Troky and Jacob Amram amongst others. This is even more surprising if one realizes that precisely during this period the Dutch Missionary Society was founded 45 with the purpose of expanding both mission abroad and at home, the latter especially among the Jews and that many of the board members of the Hague Society served on the board of the Missionary Society^ Was it because the two societies maintained a clear distinction of labor? Possibly, as the Hague Sodety stopped its short-lived publication of popular works when the Dutch Missionaiy Society began producing pamphlets. 47 Or is it because the Jews were a force which hardly needed to be contended with, at least as far as philosophical discourse was concerned?

45 46

47

The Dutch Missionary Society, or Nederlandsch zendeling genootschap, was founded in 1797. Boneschansker, J. 1885. " D e kleine Prijsverhandelingen van het Haagsch Genootschap." In Op de hres, 33—46, esp. 37. Ibid.

QUESTIONING TIME SYLVIE A N N E GOLDBERG Ecole des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales, Paris, France.

As shown by history, any questioning of time involves a questioning of origins. Between Jews and Christians, the question of origins always comes back to conflicts over the interpretation of the Bible. In this paper I will examine some effects of these interpretations on the course of history. But I would also like to show that a questioning of time intertwines the past to the present time, as an echo across ages, with diverse objects and in distinct contexts. I will present three examples, each with a different thrust, a different significance. T h e first concerns the reckoning of the Jewish era, the second deals with the notion of time in the Bible and the third questions Jewish temporality in the world today. We can consider that universal time, particular time and a combination of the two, with the movements and relations between them, make up the threefold time frame of the Jewish temporal register. 1. T o begin with, what is today's date? And what is the year? This first question can have three answers: Today is the third day of the week, the 27 th of Tames; Today is Tuesday, July 21 th ; and Today is both of the above. T h e answer given reflects a combination whose harmony or absence thereof is composed of a dosage that operates between Jewish time and universal time. T h e second question elicits a far broader reflection. Because, between the years 5758 and 1998 there comes into play a relation with history that is much deeper than the difference between the third and the second day of the week, or whether it is set in a lunar or a solar month. If we accept that determining the era corresponds to situating it on the axis of time, then we must admit that the axis has a starting point. Geometry holds that a straight line can be of infinite length—as it is in secular or astronomic time. However, the western world in which we live has traced an axis that is moving toward an end, envisioned as the end of time or else the redemption. That an end to time must c o m e — o n this point Jews and Christians find themselves in agreement; what divides them is when it begins: what is the starting point from which time must be counted? H o w did Jews arrive at their figure of over 5000 years? Any linear reading of the books of the Bible shows that temporal landmarks are provided in the Pentateuch by the lifespan of various people, in the books of Kings and Prophets by reigns of the kings of Judah and Israel, while the scribes of the Diaspora, align themselves with the reigns of the kings of Babylon and Persia. 1

1

See Bornstein, H. Y. 1920. "Ta'arikhei Yisrael." Ha-tekufab 8, 281-338; 9, 202-264.

The principle of determining this date by calculating from the creation of the world appears in the Seder Olam, a chronological account attributed to a Tanna of the second century. 2 In that period, when Roman Palestine was much agitated by war, the multiplication of dissident Jewish sects and the emergence of Christianity, the reckoning of time may have grown out of the expectation of Messianic redemption, with the idea of chronology itself being a deployment along a line from the beginning of time to its end. 3 For Jews and Christians alike, the origin of time is based on the biblical account of creation. But the end of days rests on the apocalyptic visions in the Book of Daniel: " N o w I am come to make thee understand what shall befall thy people in the latter days...," " K n o w therefore and understand, that from the going forth of the commandment to restore and to build Jerusalem unto the Messiah the Prince shall be seven weeks..." 4 Messianic speculations were based largely on a reinterpretation of these visions and on explanations of this text, since they would make it possible to situate the end of time along an extension made up of fixed periods. T o grasp the hidden meaning of the text, it would suffice to pierce the mystery of the duration of the periods. 5 The question of the end of time can be formulated as follows: knowing that the final redemption must be accomplished in a time predetermined by God, how is it possible, using the same sources, for one party to show that it is imminent but not yet accomplished and for the other to prove that the Saviour did come at the predicted time? T h e Yeshiva of Elijah says: the world is destined to last 6000 years. T w o thousand years of chaos (Tohu), two thousand years of Torah, two thousand years of the days of the Messiah. 6 G o d finished his work in six days... That means that in 6000 years G o d will bring all things to completion, because for him "a day of the Lord is as 1000 years." Therefore, in six days, that is, in 6000 years, the universe wül be brought to its end. (for) " O n the seventh day he rested..." 7

Many computations are based on these two quotations. The first is Jewish, cited many times in the Talmud, the commentaries and the midrasbim. The second is part of Christian heritage. The Epistle of Barnabas, in the 2nd century of the c o m m o n era, although fervendy anti-Jewish, follows an apocalyptic structure deeply anchored in Jewish temporality and raises a "question of time." There was no problem predicting when the end would come if only we knew how much time had elapsed. From the account of Genesis 5 it is not a problem to add up the time passed from the dawn of creation until the flood. It is also not really a problem to calculate from the flood to the exodus from Egypt, since the

2

3

4 5 6 7

Ye v., 82b; Nid., 46b. Seder o/am was first published in 1514, Mantova. See Ratner, B. 1894. Mavo leSeder Olam rabba, and the forthcoming critical edition by H. Milikowsky. See Frank, E. 1956.Talmudic and Rabbinical Chronology. New York; Mahler, E. 1967. Handbuch der Jüdischen Chronologie. Hildesheim. Deut 10:14; 9:25. Deut, from chap. 9 on, until the end of the Book. AZ, 9a. Episde of Barnabas, Barnabae Epistula. Lipsiae, 1877.

ages of all the Patriarchs are given. Most of the problems concerning the reckoning of elapsed time arise from the contradictions found in the Bible about the length of the events described. From this point, that is, the Exodus, reckoning the elapsed time begins to be seriously debated in Jewish circles, as we can see from the Passover Haggadah, when it discusses the period of slavery f r o m the birth of Isaac on. O n the other hand, the first Christians, the Fathers of the Church, tried to build a chronology relying on the Greek translations of the Bible, claiming that six weeks of the seven announced by Daniel had really elapsed between the Creation and the birth of Christ. The reckoning of elapsed time starting with the creation of the world became an arena of confrontation between Jews, Samaritans and Christians, each of w h o m believed they held the authentic truth based on their interpretation of the Bible. The Jews evaluated the period elapsed between Adam's expulsion from Eden and the Flood as 1656 years; the Samaritans reduced this figure to 1307 years; while for Julius Africanus, it was 2262 years. 8 Partially obtained through numerical variations found in the Septuagint—which systematically adds a hundred years to the lives of the antediluvian generations—this temporal inflation can be seen as a response to theological motivations. 9 Confronting each other on the terrain of homiletic and hermeneutic history, the two religions fought one another, the one to acquire, the other to defend its position as "chosen people." By extending the interval between the flood and Abraham to 1015 years, Julius Africanus was able to situate the death of Joseph in 3565 of the Adamic era. Adding to this the 210 years that the Hebrews spent in Egypt, the 1235 years that are supposed to have elapsed between Moses and Cyrus and the 490 years since Cyrus, according to the prophesy of Daniel, the birth of Jesus took place in the year 5500 after the creation, the exact midpoint of the messianic millennium. 10 However, in the first century Flavius Josephus had already proudly proclaimed that the history of his people covered five thousand years." This would tend to show that the use of these inflated figures was not limited to only gentile circles. Thus, the question of elapsed time, deduced from different readings of the biblical text, was able to accomplish its historic destiny, and set Jews and Chrisdans along parallel lines of time. From the time of the Seder Olam, we can see in Jewish literature that landmarks are instituted by key moments in Jewish history: the exodus from Egypt, the building of the Temple, deportation, reconstruction, destruction, the Seleucid era 12 —Judaized by being identified with the end of prophesy—and creation. 13 Once they had worked out the amount of time

8 9

10 11 12 13

Al-Biruni (973-1048), Chronology of Ancient Nations. By C. Edward Sachau, London, 1879. Graetz, H. "Fälschungen in dem Texte der Septuaginta von christlicher Hand zu dogmarischen Zwecken." MGW] 2, 432-436. Patrologiac cursus completus. (PG). J. P. Migne, Series graeca, Paris, 1857-1866, 10, 63. Josephus, F. Against Apion. 1,1,1; Jewish Antiquities. 1,1,3,13. Grumel, V. 1958. Traité d'Études byzantines. 1. La Chronologie, Paris. Mekhilta d-r. Ishmaei\ massekhet Yitro, "in the third m o n t h , " see PT Rosb ha-shanah. F r o m the Seder Olam on, c. 30, the rabbinic literature constandy identifies the introduction of the Seleucid era,

elapsed since creation, it still took a few more centuries before the era of création came into regular use in the Jewish world. This happened in the Middle Ages, in response to the choice made by the Church to situate its history in the era of the Incarnation. In this way, the question of time, emerging from the respective readings of those who both based themselves on the Scriptures, sufficed to jusdfy a schism. The present figure used for the Jewish era is thought to be a result of the computations of the Sages who, in the period after the destruction of the Temple, sought to establish a permanent chronology of the past in order to evaluate the probable coming of the Messiah in the course of History. So, having started out on the same temporal axis, responding to a universal eschatological quest, Jews and Christians henceforth follow parallel lines through time—lines that can no longer meet. 2. Bible Criticism, as an academic field, appeared in the 19th century, at a time when Jews were seeking to obtain civil rights, but also to win recognition of Judaism as part of the cultural heritage of western civilization. The emergence of the Science of Judaism is one of the expressions of that struggle; the scientific study of the holy texts, by demonstrating their universal scope, was supposed to open the Gates of the City to the Jews. For over a century the work of Bible critics took it for granted that there was a profound difference between representations of time perceived by IndoEuropean and Semitic peoples. They claimed that it was impossible for the Israelites to represent time otherwise than through the perception of events, contrasted with the Greeks' ability to distinguish between "absolute time" and "space-time," implying that the Hebrews could not conceive abstract representations. 14 The usual history of the genesis of the notion of time suggests that the circular representation of temporality proper to barbarians and archaic societies was, 15 with the emergence of monotheism and later of Christianity, replaced by a representation that was vertical, then linear, serving as a scale of progress and evolution of societies. 16 The Christian approach characterizes European time as an "infinite line" along which events are placed, opposed to Israelite time, identifiable by its contents, 17 which forms a time that is "full" and concrete and leaves no place for ordering or arranging its episodes. 18 It has become commonplace, since von Orelli. 19 ο compare the Hebrew and Greek Bibles as well as the N e w Testament, term for term with the lexicon of philosophical temporality. The analysis is based on a comparison of vocabulary describing time: the biblical Hebrew moed, et, ^eman and olam with the Greek

14

15

16 17 18 19

introduced in 312 bee, with the "end of the prophecy," see Bar Hiyyah's, Sefer ha-Jbbur. Ed. H. Filipowski. London, 1851, 43, 308; Saadia Gaon's Sefer ha-Agron, 8, 5. A. Momigliano ridiculed this allegation in "Time in Ancient Historiography." History and Theory 5, Beiheft 6, 1966, 1-23. Eliade, M. 1974. The Myth Of The Eternal Return, or, Cosmos and History. Princeton; Gurevitch, A. J. 1985. Categories of Medieval Culture. London. Herder, 1968. Reflections on the philosophy of the history of mankind. Chicago. Boman, T. 1954. Das Hebräische Denken im Vergleich mit dem griechischen. Göttingen. Von Rad, G. 1957. Theologie des Alten Testament. 2 vol.. Munich, repr. 1960, 1980. Von Orelli, C. 1871. Die Hebräischen Synonyma der Zeit und Ewigkeit. Leipzig.

chronos (interval, instant), ai on (passage, generation), and kairos, rectitude of time. From this comparison come several c o m m o n ideas on the notion of biblical time: the Hebrew conjugations do not distinguish past, present and future; the world is made of flesh, which implies a concrete vision of time; time took on meaning only at that point in history that G o d brought the Hebrews out of Egypt. For the Greeks, time is essentially cyclical,20 for the Hebrews, time is the equivalent of substance; 21 the Greeks are dominated by a spatial vision, the Hebrews by a temporal vision. 22 The divergent opinions and contradictory visions of the philological and linguistic approaches lead to some very surprising results. For example, the time expressed in Qohelet is understood by some as recurrent and without meaning, while for others it shows the importation of non-Hebrew thought. 23 Opinions also diverge on the proper geometric figures for its representation: the circle is seen as defining Greek time for some and Biblical time for others; and one states that although cyclical time is indeed Greek, linear time is still not biblical, because it is a result of the (Greek?) introduction of chronological time into the understanding of biblical material. 24 Some see the Greek vision as being at the same time linear and circular. 25 In short, no vision of time is really identifiable in the Bible, which grasps only " m o m e n t s " and "decisive" times. All agree, however, in reaffirming the differences between Greek and Biblical visions, and Von Rad states that, in contrast to the Bible, the western conception of time is more or less consciously linear.26 James Barr opens another path. Because Biblical language as we know it comes from a distant past, from a foreign idiom and a different culture, we are faced with a real problem of translation and transculturation. 27 But nothing proves that the gap between the time perceptions of Biblical Hebrews, ancient Greeks and the Western peoples of today is so great that we will never manage to understand or identify them. By his explanations, Barr shows the bias and incoherence of theological approaches based on the methods of linguistics and Biblical philology. When Christian theologians attributed to the religion of Israel the paternity of the notion of temporal creation, thereby bestowing on it the merit of being the first historic religion, 28 it was the better to show the immaturity of its monotheism. Surprisingly, while Bible criticism was debating the authenticity of the divine word in the Old Testament by looking, as James Frazer put it in his time, at a succession of components clumsily placed end to end, 29 few Jewish studies defended the traditional vision, accepting de facto the principle of a text revealed

20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29

Vidal-Naquet, P. 1960. "Temps des dieux, temps des hommes." KHK 157, 55-80. Gesenius-Kautzsch, 1898. Hebrew Grammar. O x f o r d , repr. 1910,.141‫ם‬ Boman 1954. Robinson, H. W. 1946. inspiration and Revelation in the Old Testament. O x f o r d , 109. Marsh, J. 1952. The Fullness of Time. London, 175-179. Boman 1954. Von Rad 1957: 2,88. Barr, J. 1961. The Semantics of Biblical Language. London. Von Rad 1957: 1, 126. Frazer, J. 1923. Folk-lore in the Old Testament. New York.

and completed by corpus, within which the nodon of temporality really made no sense, since the biblical text had been formed over the centuries by the multiplicity of cultural systems at work in it, just like the Hebrew people itself. 30 If the first question of time discussed here emerged from an eschatological quest, a quarrel between heirs, then the second shows that the battle, when displaced to another terrain, is still purely theological in nature. I would now like to bring the dispute over Jewish time into the world of today. 3. The debates over Greater Israel can be seen from different angles, all of them fraught with polidcal conflicts. I am not about to place myself on this terrain. Reading the books of the Bible traces out a geography that some proclaim and others ignore: some espouse it in the name of religious dowry, others ignore it in the name of historical reality. In both cases, Biblical interpretation is summoned to the tribunal of present time. Those who proclaim their legitimate right to the land do it heads covered and Bible in hand; those who are willing to renounce these claims are often those who demand the right to civil marriage, the opening of shops on Saturday, in short, the right to live in a temporal register not based on Jewish religious principles. If, however, one were to pose the question of reformulating a Jewish identity, both camps would envisage it only for their opponents. The ultras want "universal" Jews to return to traditional Judaism and the secular want the haredim to become "civilized." The situation seems deadlocked, with two Jewish temporalities fighting each other, one eschatological, the other, let us say, astronomic. Although the Old Testament is the common heritage of the monotheistic religions, the question of its enduring validity is still a subject of debate. The N e w Covenant that marks this change of view comes with the emergence of the Rabbinic period and the beginning of the history of the Jews. It was then that Judaism sacrificed universalism (propagation) for singularism in order to endure in time. The field of Jewish Studies can illustrate how this works: it developed with the emergence of the political combat of Jews for emancipation, at the price, if we are to believe Gershom Scholem—of a renunciation; in the 19th and 20 th centuries, it sacrificed particularism to retain only the more "presentable" aspects of Jewish culture and religion. In recent decades however, a backlash began to be felt, due to the institutionalization of Jewish Studies everywhere as well as to the historic legitimacy introduced by the creation of the State of Israel. This recourse to science has enabled scholars to investigate spheres formerly reserved to the closed circles of the learned of the Torah. As the Torah has moved out of the hadarim md jeshivot to enter the University, the option is open to those who study it to choose its time frame or not. The eschatological axis of Judaism thus passes into the domain of free choice, and can be examined in the light of its evolution in contact with other civilizations. 30

Jacob, B. 1934. Das Erste Buch der Tora Genesis. Berlin, utterly denies the documentary hypothesis; some of the searchers pardy rely on it, as Kauffmann, Y., Greenberg M. (trans.) 1960. The Re/igion of Israel: From the beginnings to the Babylonian Exile. Chicago, repr. N e w York, 1972; Cassuto, U. 1961. The Documentary hypothesis and the composition of the Pentateuch. Trans, by I. Abrahams, Jerusalem, repr. 1983.

Let us return to our threefold conception of time in Judaism: the first example showed that establishing a specifically Jewish chronology grew out of a universal questioning, for the end of the world is the end of all mankind. The second showed that identifying the notion of Biblical time by studying the text turned into a theological discussion, and that wanting to affirm the supremacy of Christianity over Judaism, Bible criticism, thanks to Wellhausen, 31 brought out mainly the cultural contributions of the ancient world within Judaism. The third shows that what we are witnessing today is a confrontation of two temporal scales. Must we conclude therefore that Jewish temporality can be grasped only in its religious aspect? Is it conceivable that a Jewish temporal register exists outside of Messianism? Can Judaism endure by finding an arrangement between singularism and universalism? If these questions remain open, the rise of Jewish Studies, taking advantage of the alliance between tradition and profane knowledge, seems to attest that such a compromise is feasible! But if the era of the geulah that we find in the inscriptions of Bar Kokhba's epoch were to be repeated, one cannot help thinking that the same causes (messianism combined with nationalism) could produce the same effects, (ruin and destruction) and that the future of Jews and of their state could well be jeopardized. W h o could predict what would result from a neutralization of messianism? At a time when Christianity is recognizing its sources and rereading the documentary hypothesis with a new eye, the option of withdrawing into oneself is no longer in the spirit of the time. Biblical interpretation should be something more than just a source of conflict. T o reach the seventh millennium, Judaism may have to rethink the days of the Messiah, just as it did 2000 years ago. And seeing that Jewish time still provides a source for historic legitimacy, it might be time to examine the construction of its history and to avoid placing the two axes—the eschatological and the astronomic—on irreconcilable parallel lines. But in this sense, isn't history always an enemy of eschatology?

31

Wellhausen, J. 1878. Geschichte Israels. Berlin; 1883. Prolegomena %ur Geschichte Israels. Berlin.

JEWISH ORIENTALISM IVAN KALMAR University of Toronto, Canada Spain is m u c h admired for its Islamic and mudéjar architecture, b o t h of which are evident also in the city's former synagogues. T h e horseshoe arch and other features of Islamic building art knew a revival in the nineteenth century. This style, known throughout E u r o p e as "Moorish," became popular as a minor branch of the historical romantic style. T h e Moorish style was meant to be reminiscent not only of Muslim Spain but also of the Muslim world in general, and incorporated many elements evocative of Turkey. Alongside the Alhambra, the originally Byzantine Church of Santa Sophia in Istanbul provided perhaps the two major reference points for the architects designing in the Moorish style. Consequendy, the style is sometimes referred to as Moorish-Byzantine. Some examples have very few if any Byzantine elements; others have many. T h e Moorish style was used throughout the Western world; indeed, there is no reason to imagine that it originated in Spain. More likely, but this needs to be investigated, the mudéjar revival in Spain was a response to an earlier enthusiasm for the Moorish style elsewhere in Europe. There was a contrast between Spain and elsewhere in terms of the functions of neo-Moorish architecture. In Spain, the style was used to build numerous dwellings and office buildings, though rarely if ever churches. Outside Spain, however, the Moorish style was normally used only to build places of entertainment and recreation, such as exhibition halls, beach pavilions and burlesque houses. Undoubtedly, the "oriental" references evoked some feeling of romantic pride in Spaniards about the grandeur of their Muslim past, even though Spanish identity is so intimately connected to the defeat of the Muslims. Elsewhere, the Islamic evoked in the popular mind mosdy the excitement of a the "inscrutable" mystery of the East—at times understood as the key to spiritual fulfillment, and at times as a threatening, sinister enigma. In spite of some current simplifications of what "orientalism" meant and means in the history of ideas in the West, its significance is and was varied, complex, and contradictory, richly reflective of place, purpose, and time. Just h o w adaptable and complex the orientalism of the Moorish style was, is illustrated by the strange fact that it was taken very seriously by the Ashkenazic (not Sephardic!) Jews. Between about 1855 and about 1930, it was perhaps the m a j o r style in Ashkenazi synagogue architecture outside the Russian Empire. During this period, a typical town or city almost anywhere in the Western world would have one or two Moorish buildings. These would typically include a einema or variety theatre—and, if there was a Jewish community, a synagogue or synagogues.

Why did the Jews use Moorish architecture for a serious purpose, while their neighbours used it mosdy for entertainment? Like the Spaniards, the Jews had an attachment to their past under Islamic rule on the Iberian Peninsula. But, more importantiy, the Jews were themselves widely considered an Oriental people, a characterization that they accepted, sometimes assertively. There was a streak in Jewish thought that asserted this Oriental identity with pride. I refer to this now largely forgotten sentiment as part of what I shall call "Jewish orientalism," and it is this sentiment that my paper aims to briefly explore here. Among the early Jewish orientalists was Benjamin Disraeli, the towering Tory figure in nineteenth-century British politics and Queen Victoria's favorite Prime Minister. Disraeli was a man of extraordinary chutzpah. When in 1835 O'Connell, the powerful Irish parliamentarian, attacked his Jewish ancestry, Disraeli replied without hesitation: "Yes, I am a Jew, and when the ancestors of the right honorable gendeman were brutal savages in an unknown island, mine were priests in the temple of Solomon." O d d pride, perhaps, for a baptized Jew. Odder still, as we look back through the veil of decades of strife in the Middle East, was that Disraeli wrote of the Jews as an "Arabian tribe," and of the Arabs, as "only Jews upon horseback." When a character in his novel Tancred says, with Disraeli's obvious approval, that " G o d never spoke except to an Arab," he means of course that Moses, the Prophets of Israel, Jesus, and Mohammed were all Arabs. 1 What could seem more bizarre than such ecumenical Semitic pride? Yet the fascination Disraeli had for the Jews' supposed "oriental" character was far from uncommon. It is a striking fact that from the late eighteenth to the early twentieth century, Jews were universally regarded as an oriental people. Many of them internalized this view of themselves, and being "oriental" became for them a matter of considerable pride. Although perfecdy obvious when the appropriate sources are accessed, Jewish orientalism has been litde discussed in the literature. A fine exception is a chapter in Paul Mendes-Flohr's Divided Passions.2 The chapter is headed "Fin de Siècle Orientalism, The Ostjuden, and the Aesthetics of Jewish Self-Affirmation." In fact, however, Jewish orientalism dates back long before the period discussed by Mendes-Flohr: the turn of the twentieth century and the mass emigration of East European Jews. Voltaire referred to the Jews disparagingly as "Asian." The fist positive impersonation of the Jewish oriental was perhaps Lessing's Nathan the Wise. Disraeli's David Alroj may be the first such character created by a Jew. The term "Jewish orientalism" as I use it here is deliberately ambiguous, meaning both the Gentile view of the Jews as orientals, and the atdtude of the Jews who so viewed themselves. For it is essential that we view the development of Jewish orientalism as dialogic: both Jew and Gentile contributed to it. In the late eighteenth century, Jewish-Gentile contact increased in Western and Central Europe. People were able to test their acquired anti-Jewish preju-

1 2

All the quotes in this paragraph are from Tancred. Mendes-Flohr, P. 1991. Divided Passions: Jewish Intellectuals and the Experience of Modernity. Detroit: Wayne State University Press.

dice against the actual experience of meeting real, live Jews. As a result, a certain "good Jew" stereotype emerged as a counterweight to the ages-old vilifications. The new stereotype was held out as the image of what Jews could become if age-old discriminatory laws and attitudes against them were eliminated. Among the first social forums where Jews of distinction could socialize freely with Gentiles were the Masonic lodges. In England, an Edward Rose became a Freemason in 1732, and as early as 1756, a Masonic prayer book included a prayer "at the opening of the lodge meeting and the like for the use of Jewish Freemasons." The imagery of Freemasonry was thoroughly orientalist. (An obvious example is the name of France's most famous lodge, le Grand Orient.) The Masons claimed to be spiritual descendants of the builders of Solomon's Temple as well as of the Pyramids, and it proved difficult for them to resist admitting Jewish applicants, though many certainly tried. The Scottish Rite went as far in its romantic philo-Semitism that they adopted the Hebrew calendar. Contact with actual Jews also helped to create new, more positive depictions of the Jew in the world of fiction. Gotthold Lessing modeled his banker hero in Nathan the Wise (1779) on the Berlin businessman and philosopher, Moses Mendelssohn. 3 The character was widely imitated. In England, Cumberland established a tradition with his philosophical banker, Sheva, the hero of his play, The Jew. Among Sheva's apparent literary descendants are Disraeli's Sidonia and Besso, who appear in more than one of his novels. The "noble Jew" that such bankers represent is what we would call today a politically correct remake of an older stereotype. Here we are dealing with something similar to the case of Walter Scott's Rebecca. The heroine of lvanhoe is still very much the same character as Shylock's Jessica in The Merchant of Venice — t h e angelic daughter of an uncompromising Jewish usurer, and a sex object for her Gentile admirer. The older, anti-Semitic character is still quite easily perceived under the veneer of the enlightened, pro-Jewish reworking. The male "noble Jew" banker, too, does resemble the Shakespearean prototype in that he, like Shylock, lends money. However, his mental and physical characteristics are the exact opposite of Shylock's. He is a generous philanthropist, and a philosopher to boot. Nathan generously aids the temporarily impoverished sultan Suleiman; Sheva, in his play, The Jew (1794), anonymously helps out two Christian gendemen; both utter didactic principles meant to edify the audience. Many noble Jew and noble Jewess characters were, and this is important to emphasize, depicted as orientals, either by actual residence or, more often, by their appearance. The dress and appearance of Rebecca and her father are explicidy portrayed as oriental, and in the end daughter and father both emigrate to Muslim Spain. Nathan's wealth is acquired by his camel caravans, laden with oriental riches, plying the deserts from the Mediterranean to the Euphrates.

3

Earlier, Lessing had depicted a "noble Jew," perhaps also inspired by Mendelssohn, in The Jews. First performed in 1749. Here the noble Jew is also a wealthy man, but though his origins are uncertain, he is not in any sense depicted as an oriental.

Indeed, the noble Jew is a semiodc relative of an underexplored early modern character, the noble oriental. The sultan Suleiman provides an example in Nathan the Wise, as do the Mozartian characters, Sarastro in The Mage Flute and Sultan Selim in The Abduction from the Seraglio. (Such characters may, in turn, be enlightenment reworkings of the much-mocked Turk of mediaeval iconography·4) The noble Jew and the noble Oriental were both Enlightenment characters preaching the same deist views. However, they did differ in estate. The noble Oriental was typically a ruler; the noble Jew, a banker. In this respect, Harold Fisch 5 was right to maintain that the modern, including early modern, image of the "good Jew" is the image of bourgeois virtue emerging as an alternative to aristocratic pride. If the noble Oriental ruler was an image meant to flatter a German or Austrian Prince, the noble Jew was meant to flatter the typical bourgeois. 6

Jews, Aristocrats, and Bourgeois The typical bourgeois may or may not have disliked the actual nobility, but they loved nothing more than the idea of noble descent. As the Rothschilds' struggle to become Austrian barons proves, wealthy bourgeois would spare nothing to be given an aristocratic tide. Those who could not hope to become peers sought more readily available symbols of fine breeding. T o surround themselves with the aura of pedigree, the bourgeois bought antique furniture, thus purchasing for themselves a past of sorts. If they could not also purchase a patent of nobility, they found a symbolic substitute in the family tree of their plants and animals. The eighteenth century saw serious progress in animal husbandry, dog breeding, dove raring, and viniculture. As ladies and gendemen bred animals and improved plants, they pracdeed on their surroundings the doctrine of race as nobility. In the early nineteenth century, "race thinking," as Disraeli called it, was immature. In England, for example, there was no shortage of preaching and writing on the great racial merits of the English, though it was not generally agreed just what the racial make-up of the English was. While the Saxon element was most widely emphasized, relatively sane people held that the English were descendants of the Trojans, or a lost tribe of Israel. Note how association

4

Selim of the Abduction is portrayed (in his absence) as a cruel oriental despot in the first parts of the opera, but, to the European protagonists' surprise, turns out to be a philosopher king once they meet him. In Rossini's U Turco in Italia, the Turkish seducer, called Sultan Selim as in the Abduction is, though hardly a wise man, in no way m o r e or less despicable than the Italian characters. IlTurco's libretto includes some deliberately relativist c o m m e n t s on international customs and manners.

5

Fisch, H. 1971. The Dual Image: The Figure of the Jew in English and American Literature. N e w York: Ktav, 1971. If the noble oriental idealized the aristocrat and the noble Jew idealized the bourgeois, it is not surprising to see early o n representadons of the worldly Jewish banker as an unwelcome intruder, a parvenu in aristocratic high society, such as Baron Levy in Bulwer-Lytton's My Novel or Varieties of English Life.

6

with the Children of Israel did not seem to be demeaning to the true-blooded English. In general, early "race thinking" differed f r o m later racism in that its domineering, discriminating, and hateful message was still largely implicit. Its tone resembled what one would find in a handbook of horses or dogs, where the good traits of each breed are generally emphasized more than the bad. Similarly, orientalism, and particularly its early versions, was meant to be benign. Its hidden agenda was to a large extent, as Edward Said pointed out, one of colonial domination. This hidden agenda often became overt in the late nineteenth century, but when it did, it did so in a dialogue with the more admiring version of orientalism. The direcdy and openly racist texts that some of Said's vulgarizing followers see as the epitome of orientalism are better referred to as anti-orientalism than as orientalism itself. Orientalist fiction and painting typically presented scenes of male heroism and female sensuality, and as such was an important part of the nascent romantic imagination. The complex, polysemic, and to use a Bakhtinian term, double-voiced semiotic of orientalism ineluded romantic idealization, sexual fantasy, antimodern authoritarianism, the desire to dominate the Other, colonialist ambitions, and more. F r o m the late eighteenth to the late nineteenth century, the romantic idealization was experienced by Europeans as foremost. In the eighteen seventies, the Grand Dictionnaire du XIXe siècle defined "orientalism" as the "Système de ceux qui prétendent que les peuples occidentaux doivent à l'Orient leur origine, leurs langue, leurs science et leurs arts." 7 It added that orientalism had a revolutionary impact on European thought, making it more open to the ways and mores of others. 8 Orientalist representations sounded flattering, and many Jews decided to play up to them. In late eighteenth century Vienna, a number of inventive but insincere Jews convinced their fellow Masons that they possessed lost Hebrew secrets, recendy discovered in the Holy Land. Proudly calling themselves the "Asiatic Brethren, many of the lodge brothers, including members of the highest Austrian nobility, gave themselves secret Hebrew names. For example, "Ben-Jakhin," also known as "Abraham" and "Israel," was none other than Count Hans Heinrich von Ecker und Eckhofen. 9 Jewish orientalism was a public relations gamble aimed at investing the Jew with the romantic aura of oriental wisdom. It worked for the Jewish Masons in Austria and elsewhere as it did for Disraeli in England because it articulated the quest for Jewish dignity in the language of the contemporary bourgeois effort to rearticulate the aristocratic principle of descent in terms not of family but of race.

7

8 9

Grand Dictionnaire Universet du λ'/λ τ siècle. Paris: Administration du G r a n d Dictionnaire Universel, vol. 11, 1466. T h e preface of this work is dated 1865, but in vol. 11 mention is made of the eighteen-seventies. Pg. 1466. T h e case of the "Asiaric Brethren" of Vienna is explored in Katz, J. 1970. Jews and Freemasons in Europe 1723-1939. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

Backlash The public relation ploy did not always work. Disraeli never ceased to be the target of vicious anti-Jewish attack, and the jokes about his mystic orientalism eventually made it unto the relatively respectable pages of a satirical magazine like Punch. T h e Asiatic Brethren were not only ridiculed but severely derided by the authorities, and the lodge eventually had to close down. In 1850, Richard Wagner wrote a pamphlet on "Jewry and Music," deriding what he saw as the noxious influence of the Jews. But the voice of the detractors was still relatively still. Wagner was much better known for his music (some performed by Jewish conductors) than for his diatribes against the Jews. Ernest Renan, author of the famous Life of Jesus (1863), was far better known than any self-confessed Jewhater. When he wrote about the Semites, including the Jews, his negative prejudices were widely ignored in favor of what appeared to be a positive assessment. Indeed, it was during the middle of the century that Jewish orientalism reached its untroubled peak. I have already alluded to the myriad of synagogues in the orientalist or "Moorish" style that were erected all over the Western world by modernizing Jewish congregations. The first was the Great Synagogue of the City in Vienna, erected in 1852. Other famous "Moorish" edifices were the Central Synagogue of Budapest (1853), the Oranienburgenstrasse Synagogue in Berlin, built between 1855 and 1866, the Cologne Synagogue (1861), the Central Synagogues of L o n d o n (1860), Florence (1880) and St. Petersburg (1893), and in the United States, Temple Emanu-El of N e w York (1868), Rodeph Shalom of Philadelphia (1869-1870), and the Plum Street Temple of Cincinnati (1868). The Plum Street Temple came complete with thirteen domes and two minarets. Yet, while these curious masterpieces were being built, the orientalist dialectic began to show its exclusionist potential. T h e noble Jew's role as an icon is to represent the idealized Other, not to become accepted by Gentile society. Oliv1er Cohen-Steiner suggests that it is this fact that forces Scott's Rebecca and her father to emigrate to Muslim Spain, a move for which lvanhoe gives no other justification. 10 Even in the most flattering portrayal of the Jew as Oriental there is the hidden suggestion that the Jew belongs elsewhere, outside the West. This dialectic of separateness resulted in the dialogical development of both andSemitism and Zionism. T h e spark set off by Wagner and others such as the literary critic, Konrad Menzel, led to an explosion of anti-Jewish feeling in the unsetded economic climate of the late nineteenth century. First the infamous Panama Canal scandal and then the more far-reaching Dreyfus Affair appeared to many to provide tangible evidence of a Jewish conspiracy against the Christian world. AntiSemitism became an almost fashionable pseudo-science. It was heavily equipped with hateful scientistic metaphors, as when soon after Koch's discovery of the

10

Cohen-Steiner, O . 1994. Le regard de l'autre: Le juif dans le roman anglais 1800-1900. sitaires de Nancy, 184—185.

Presses Univer-

bacillus the Jews were described as invisible agents of disease, attacking Europe's body politic.

Semitism and Anti-Semitism N o w that romantic Semitism had been turned into exclusionist anti-Semitism, most Jews veered away from Jewish orientalism. "Oriental" and "Asiatic" became pejorative synonyms of "Jew." During the notorious "Berliner Antisemitismusstreif ' of 1879-1880, the historian von Treitschke, who led anti-Semitic academies, liked to refer to the Jewish spokesperson, Graetz, as "an oriental who neither does nor wants to understand our People." 11 For most Jews, this turn of events meant the end of the desire to be seen, and to see oneself, as orientals. Fewer and fewer Moorish synagogues were built after the outbreak of World War I, when separate racial origins were not a particularly desirable symbolic commodity on either side of the conflict. Hardly any Moorish synagogues were built after Hider's rise to power in 1933—even though the Moorish style continued to be used, blended with art deco, for places of entertainment, and, in particular, cinemas. It is telling that the famous Temple Emmanu-El of N e w York, spiritual home of the city's most privileged and fashionable Jews, had been built in orientalist style in 1868. When in 1929 the congregation moved to its current location at Fifth Avenue and Sixty-fifth Street, it was rebuilt in an eclectic mixture of neo-Gothic and art deco. There was, nevertheless, early in the century a significant minority among the Jews w h o decided to continue contesting the image of the Jew as oriental. The anti-Semites have turned what seemed to be a flattering portrait into an instrument of contempt and hatred towards the Jew. The Zionists were prepared to reply. They asserted their oriental separateness with pride, agreeing that there was no place for Jews in Europe and seeking a return to the Orient.

Martin Buber and Orientalist Zionism The chief ideological spokesman of this late Jewish orientalism was Martin Buber, the noted existentialist and neo-Hassidic philosopher. The clearest outline of Buber's orientalism came in his 1912 speech entided "The Spirit of the Orient and Judaism." In it, he argued that the Orient, comprising China, India, the Arab world as well as the Jew, was a consistent, distinctive unit distinguishable from the West in terms of its mental characteristics. The Occidental was a sensoriscber Mensch, while the Oriental, including the Jew, was a motorischer Mensch. This speech was given to his devoted followers at the Bar Kokhba Association of Jewish University Students in Prague. Franz Kafka was a member of the Assodation, though probably a rather marginal one. His friend Max Brod was, as usual, more enthusiastic, and contributed an essay to a volume put out by the association, in which Buber's orientalist ideas were echoed by several authors, whose contributions carried tides such as "the Jew as Oriental."

11

T h e exchange is reprinted in Boehlich, W. ed. 1988. Der Berliner Antisemitismusstreit. Frankfurt am Main: Insel Verlag.

The young authors demonstrated, as did Buber, that in their view the Zionist setder in Palestine was not only a returning Jew, but also a returning Oriental. Buber himself eventually setded in Palestine. As far as his Jewish orientalism was concerned, he was not alone among the Zionist settlers. Many early Jewish settlers sported Arab headwear. Some wore original clothing designs blending elements of the Jewish tallis or prayer shawl with the Arab Palesdnian tunic. At the same time, Jewish setdement in Palestine was "orientalist imperialism" in the now classic sense of Edward Said's work 12 . The Zionists employed an orientalist ideology to justify their rule in an oriental country already inhabited by oriental "natives." Even more to the point, they formulated that ideology without no, or next to no, input from the "natives" w h o were to be affected by their rule. Yet the parallel between the orientalism of the European colonizing powers and the orientalism of the Jews, Zionist and otherwise, has important limitadons. Unlike the colonial powers, the orientalist Zionists were not primarily motivated by the desire to exploit an exotic land and the labour of its people. As Buber argued, " O u r setders do not come here as do the colonists from the Occident to have natives do their work for them; they themselves set their shoulders to the plow and they spend their strength and their blood to make the land fruitful." 13 Buber and those like him did not think of themselves as Occidental colonists, but rather as Orientals coming home to the East. This led to his conviction that only a binational state, to be shared equally by Arab and Jew, could provide a just solution to the problems of the Palestine Mandate. Buber came to head a commission that sought ways to make such a binational arrangement a reality. T o other Jews, of course, oriental and "Asiatic" became pejorative terms for some despised Other, as they had by and large become for the Gentiles. When Hannah Arendt was covering the Eichmann trial, she described the people she saw outside the courthouse as an "oriental mob, as if one were in Istanbul or some other half-Asiatic country." 14 (The orientals she was referring to were Jews, not Arabs, of w h o m there could not have been many around the courthouse. Given that "half-Asiatic" had been a favourite German pejorative for Russia 15 , it is hard to know if Arendt meant to insult the Jews of oriental origin, or the equally despised East European Ostjuden.) More significandy, negative

12

13

14

15

Said, E. W. 1979. Orientalism. N e w York: Vintage Books. The book has elicited a huge response, both posidve and negadve, across the humanities and social sciences. The historically obvious fact that orientalism was experienced mosdy as a positive depiction of the East is utilized by J o h n M. MacKenzie (1995) in his critique of Said: Orientalism: Histoiy, Theory and the Arts. Manehester and New York: Manchester University Press. Buber, M. 1963. "The Land and Its Possessors." In Israel and the World: Essays in a Time of Crisis. N e w York: Schocken, 2 ed., 233. Source: Open letter to Gandhi. The Bond. Jerusalem, 1939,1-22. Quoted by A m o s Elon, " T h e Case of Hannah Arendt." The New York Review of hooks. Vol. 46, number 17, N o v e m b e r 6,1997, 26. According to Mendes-Flohr 1991: 82-3, the term Hath-Asien was coined to refer to the then Austrian, now Polish province of Galicia by the Viennese Jewish author Karl Emil Franzos. Franzos, a native of Galicia himself, was full of contempt for Galician Jews. In Austria-Hungary, "Galician" meant a typical Ostjude.

orientalist rhetoric came to inform much of the debate in Israel on policy towards the Arabs. Today it is c o m m o n to hear Israelis of both European and Middle Eastern origin to speak of the "Arab mentality" in much the same way that late nineteenth century European anti-Semites spoke of the Jewish mind. Prominent in such Israelis' narratives are secretive conspiracies and the alleged untrustworthiness and bloodthirsty, implacable enmity of their Semitic cousins. Such discourse no longer belongs to Jewish orientalism but to the brazenly racist variety of orientalism plain and simple. I hope to have shown, however, that there were other varieties as well. Among the complexities of the issue was that often the "orientals" themselves espoused the romantic orientalist vision of themselves. This was surely true not only of the Jews, but others such as Indians and Arabs as well.

H I S T O R I O G R A P H Y O N M O D E R N JEWRY IN G E R M A N Y AFTER 1 9 4 5 URI R. KAUFMANN Dossenheim, Heidelberg, Germany

Preconditions The first time a German government funded the study of Jewish History was in 1936—the same year in which the Research Department for the Jewish Question of the Reichsinstitut für die Geschichte des neuen Deutschlands was inaugurated in Munich. 1 After 1939 similar institutions were established in Paris, Bordeaux, Genova, Bologna, Zagreb, Budapest and Cracow (Referat Judenfrage of the Institutfür deutsche Ostforschung in 1940). In 1939 "German Christians," known for their pro-Nazi view, established an Institute for Research and Elimination of the Jewish Influence on the German Ecclesisastical Ufe on the famous Wartburg, once the domicile of Martin Luther. 2 The founder of this Institute, Werner Grundmann, at one time professor for völkische (national-racist) theology in Jena, continued his career in the later G D R , where he published commentaries on the gospels. Gerhard Kittel, his colleague from Tübingen, had been responsible for Ancient Judaism within the Reichsinstitut> Karl Heinrich Rengstorf, who later became one of the initiators of Jewish Studies in the Bundesrepublik, had been one of his assistants. Kittel's attitude towards Otto Michel (the second professor of Protestant theology opening an Institutum Judaicum after 1945) who came to Tübingen in 1940 has not been examined as yet.4

Institutions We will refer to research on Jewish History between 1500 to 1933. Hereby the topics anti-Judaism resp. antisemitism will only be relevant in terms of stimulating studies on Jewish History. 5 Denazification in post-war Germany stopped at a low level because of the strategical use the Western allies had for Germany.

1

2

‫ג‬ 4 5

S c h o c h o w , W. 1969. Deutsch-jüdische Geschichtswissenschaft. Berlin, 170. With reference to Max Weinreich, Hitler's Professor, N e w York 1946, 173. S c h o c h o w 1969: 171 f. See the a n n o u n c e d works of Mrs. Siegele-Wenschkewitz, L e o n o r e , Heschel, Susannah, v o n Papen, Franziska. In Arbeitsinformationen no. 16, K ö l n 1998. S c h o c h o w 1969: 171 f. Kürschners GeUhrtenkalender. Berlin 1970, 1976, 2396. Z i m m e r m a n n , M. 1990. "Jewish History and Historiography: A Challenge to C o n t e m p o r a r y G e r m a n Historiography." In LBI-YB 35, 3 5 - 5 2 ; Idem. 1997. Die deutschen Juden 1914-1945. M ü n c h e n , 3 6 - 3 9 ; Herzig, Α. 1987. "Juden u n d J u d e n t u m in der sozialgeschichtlichen Forschung." In Sosjalgeschichte in Deutschland. E d . W. Schieder and V. Sellin. Bd. 4, G ö t t i n g e n , 1 0 8 132, Volkov, S. 1994. Die Juden in Deutschland 1780-1918, M ü n c h e n , 7 8 - 8 1 , see also Schäfer, P. 1990. Die Entwicklung der Judaistik in der Bundesrepublik Deutschland seit 1945, Die sog. GeisteswisenSchäften: Innenansichten. F r a n k f u r t , 352.

It is only today that a closer look is being taken at the activities prior to 1945 of leading history professors of the later Bundesrepublik. The famous Werner Conze and Theodor Schieder both gave ideological advise for "Lebensraum" policies in the German East, which included, after 1939, the suggestion of "dejudaization" of market towns in Lithuania and Poland. 6 Some personal correspondence written during the 1950s still displays the old antisemitic prejudice of Jewish domination of free professions. Seen in this context, one can explain that Jewish history was not promoted, only instrumentalized as a tool of legitimization, e.g. the patronage of Schieder—then professor in Cologne—to the exhibidon Monumenta Judaica in Cologne in 1963/64, which invoked much public interest in Jewish history, religion and culture. Evangelical theologians (NonCatholic) did more to further research. In Münster Rengstorf engaged Bernhard Brilling (1906-1982) in 1958, a rabbi and former archivist of the Jewish community of Breslau. 7 Brilling was the most productive researcher on Jewish history in the young Bundesrepublik. In Tübingen, O t t o Michel invited Jewish scholars (Martin Buber, David Flusser, Kurt Wilhelm, Gershon Shaked, Penina Navé, Jehuda Aschkenasy) before 1967 and sought a new appraisal of the Jewish context of the New Testament. 8 But he also established contacts to émigrés and supervised the deciphering of Hebrew inscriptions of the rural cemetery of Buttenhausen, two prominent topics now. In Mayence, the Protestant faculty established a chair for Jewish studies and invited rabbi Prof. Leo Trepp on a permanent basis. Other universities had great difficulties in integrating even a mere lectureship into its structure: thus the lectures held by Max Meir Sprecher in the 1950s, a Jewish survivor of Warsaw and a physicist, were paid by interchanging institutes of the Heidelberg University. It seems strange that collaborators of the Nazi system were able to publish their somewhat cleansed works in the early 1950s.9 In 1959 citizens of Cologne established a library on German-Jewish history, the Bibliothek Germania Judaica, a big exhibition on Jewish History and Culture followed 1963/4 and here also the first Institute for Jewish Studies was established in 1964. Young scholars had to turn to Vienna to Prof. Kurt Schubert to receive professional training. 10 The Institute for the History of German Jem in Hamburg began its activities the following year, it was headed by an émigré, Heinz Moshe Graupe. In 1952, Adolf Leschnitzer started to teach summer courses in Jewish History at the Free University of Berlin, other former German-Jewish scholars visited various German universities in the 1960s and 1970s.11 Jewish History was being re-imported from the USA and Israel. In the latter country 6 7

8 9

10 11

Aly, G . 1997. Macht-Geist-Wahn. Kontinuitäten deutschen Denkens. Berlin, 153-183. Neufeld, S. 1974. "Rabbiner Dr. Brilling in Münster [zu seiner E r n e n n u n g als Obercustos in Westfalen]." In Zeitschrift fur die Geschichte der Juden 4, no. 2 / 3 , 155-158; Freimark, P. et al. eds. 1988. Gedenkschnft Benhard Brilling. Hamburg, 9-13, see his bibliography (about 360 rides) and the periodical Theokratia of the Munster Institut. Michel, Ο. 1967. "Das Insdtutum Judaicum der Unversität Tübingen." Attempto 22, 21. Schnee, H. 1953 ff. Die Hoffman^ und der moderne Staat. Wiesbaden, and Kellenbenz, H. 1953. Sephardim an der untern Elbe. Wiesbaden. Schubert, K. 1974. 25 Jahre Judaistik an der Universität Wien. Typoscr. Wien, 5 (Unpubl.). Jütte, R. 1991. Die Emigration der deutschsprachigen Wissenschaft des Judentums. Stuttgart.

German students could perfect their Hebrew knowledge. The Catholic and Protestant churches give stipendia for this aim to some 40 students per year. Between 1964 and 1975 some major dissertations on German Jewish history were published. Work on the encyclopaedia of medieval Jewish communities, interrupted in 1934, was resumed in the 1970s and some of the collaborators continued with their Jewish topic including also the modern period (e.g. Friedrich Battenberg). A new restricted research program concentrates on two areas of the 16th century. Its German coordinator, Prof. Alfred Haverkamp of Trier managed to establish an Institute for Jewish History in 1996 dedicated to the medieval epoch. In 1979 the College for Jewish Studies in Heidelberg was established. N o State academic institution under Jewish patronage had ever existed in Germany before, the country which was once the center of the Science of Judaism. Most visiting professors did not leave a lasting imprint. However, the faculty with five chairs being the biggest in Germany was stabilized in the 1980s, and received the right to confer Ph.D.s in 1994. Since 1988 Jewish history has been taught on a continuous basis. The Technical University of Berlin added its Zentrum für Antisemitismusforschung [Center for Researching Antisemitism) in 1982, Jewish history being one of three teaching areas as well.12 One year later Prof. Schäfer gave a new impetus to the Seminary ofJewish Studies of the Berlin Free University. Another stimulus came from Duisburg, where a former group of researchers had managed to establish another Institute on German-Jewish culture under the name of Salomon Ludwig Steinheim in the year 1986. Unfortunately, it survived only four years, since the two professors had become more and more active outside the institute. It was however, revitalized in 1995. Plans to revive Jewish Studies in the former G D R led to a chair in Halle and an Institute in Leipzig after 1989. The latter was to specialize in the research of Middle-European Jewish History. In Potsdam a second curriculum of Jewish Studies was established in 1994 by Prof. Julius Schoeps from the Duisburg Institute. Topics of Jewish history were taught at other places, e.g. Zionism at the Theology Department of the University of Greifswald. In the West, the Hamburg Institute enlarged its conception in 1995. Another chair of Jewish History was established in Munich in 1997. The intensification of research is also apparent in the publication of four German periodicals after 1987/89 dealing mosdy or pardy with historical problems. O n the other side, the émigré journal Historia Judaica had merged in 1961 with the Revue des Etudes Juives, the Israeli Zeitschrift für die Geschichte der Juden of Hugo Gold ceased its publication and the Leo Baeck Institute Bulletin edited in Israel was discontinued in 1991. Thus after years of stimulating research in Germany, the Leo Baeck Institute was faced with some competition for its prèstigious London based Year Book.

12

European Association for Jewish Studies/A. Winkelmann eds. 1998. Directory of Jewish Studies in Europe. Oxford, 38 f.

O n e cannot contest that the Jewish Studies in Germany after 1945 emerged from Protestant theology, a theology which had developed a strong anti-Jewish bias before the Shoah.3‫ י‬The first generation of researchers receiving theological training, were interested mainly in the time period of Jesus. The old tradidon of Jewish Studies as auxiliary to N e w Testament research—not as a discipline of its own—was continued. Rengstorf in Münster used the term "Institutum Judaicum" and adopted the tradition of the Berlin and Leipzig academic and missionary institutes closed down by the Nazis. He even served as president of the Lutheran society for missions among the Jews. The Hamburg Jewish community considered this an obstacle when Rengstorf also wanted to become director of the mentioned Institut für die Geschichte der deutschen Juden in 1963.14 Also one leading promoter of the later Duisburg Institute, Heinz Kremers, hoped that a new Protestant theology might attract Jews. 15 The University of Göttingen still used the 1950s term of "late" Judaism, referring to the period of Jesus during which Judaism had been "subsdtuted" or "replaced" by Christianity, according to the wishful thinking of the old anti-Jewish theology. After the at least institutional emancipation of Jewish Studies from Christian theology in the 1960s, focus moved from the N e w Testament to later epochs. A younger generation was interested in other and later periods of Jewish literature, e.g. Peter Schäfer and Michael Brocke. The Talmud Yerushalmi is edited and translated, mystical texts after Qumran (Hecha/oth literature, Hassidei Ashkenas, Piyyut etc.) played and play a role. In the realm of history proper, immediately after the war, the remembering of the victims was important, but such publications stopped around 1950. Jewish History did not include much regional and local history until the 1970s. Visiting Jews had to take the initiative to get publications on local Jewish history printed. The older generation of local historians still clung to their prejudices. They tried to find legitimation of former "Rassenkunde" and without thorough comparative research the economic activity of rural Jews was often condemned by the expression "Schacher," deceitful petty trade. The harmonious relations between Christians and Jews were often stressed, their breakdown was not explained or attributed to obscure "bad outside influences." In 1962 Baden-Württemberg the first wide-range research project on the fate of its Jews during the Nazi period was launched. In addition information was collected from secondary sources of the period before 1933 going back as far as the 18th century. 16 The model of the Pinkassei haKehilloth of Yad vaShem was

13

14

15 16

Schäfer 1991: 352. O n e should also reckon with this fact, not only with the problems of "methods, aims and demands". Freimark, P. 1991. " V o m Umgang mit der Geschichte einer Minderheit, Vorgeschichte und G r ü n d u n g des Insdtuts für die Geschichte der deutschen Juden." In Juden in Deutschland. Ed. P. Freimark. Hamburg, 466-477. Kremers, H. 1965. Das Verhältnis der Kirche ç» Israel. Düsseldorf, 28, 30. Dokumentationsstelle zur Erforschung der Schicksale jüdischer Bürger in Baden-Württemberg 1933-45. Results published in Veröffentlichungen der staatlichen Archivverwaltung Baden-Württemberg by

known but realized earlier (1966/68). Nevertheless, the Jewish institutions were not systematically treated as it was done in the Hebrew Pinkas for Baden Württemberg in 1986. A similar, mosdy documentary multi-volume presentation was prepared by the archives of Rheinland-Pfalz/Saarland. Two rabbis, Zvi Asaria and Hans Chanoch Meyer, collected information on their regions of interest (Westphalia, Lower Saxony), Bavaria joining later a somewhat similar undertaking.17 Specific commissions were formed in Hessen in 1963 (one for the city of Frankfurt, one for the Land of Hessia, the latter having a distinguished series of publications of its own 18 ). The Berlin Historical Commission had a department for German-Jewish history and published several studies.19 When the famous students movement of 1968 called for an investigation of the past of the fathers, the nazi period became central, not so much Jewish history. Benevolent professors in Heidelberg had to send students to lectures on Jewish rites in order to not frustrate the lecturer. The protest movement understood itself as radically secular. In the late 1970s, gready influenced by the screening of the film "Shoah" in January 1979, a movement rescuing surviving synagogues began in Southern Germany. Such activity often led to regional research. Students and "Bildungsbürger" (cultured citizens) who had left the centers of the cities revealed the remnants of the Jewish past at their new place of living, be it a cemetery or the building of a former synagogue. As newcomers they felt free to research while the local population disliked too much investigation into the not so distant past, which could lead to leading families being compromised. But even these activities were characterized by a great distance to Judaism and Jewish history. Though lacking even basic knowledge the writers often felt obliged to present their readers with an elaborate introduction to Judaism. 20 Starting in the 1970s public pressure led to the invitation of émigrés and local researchers began to show interest in the perspective of the persecuted rather than the persecutors. Regional historians began to inquire into the time before 1933. History written by politicians often presented a harmonious picture. Many of them using it as a means to come to terms with it ("bewältigen"), but the Shoah does not lend itself to such an undertaking. Pardy a naive neoromantic veneration of Eastern European Hasidism—the philosemitic version of the age-old Protestant condemnation of Judaism as ceremonial law without religiosity—had its imprint on historiography, not realizing that patterns of acculturation and secularization in Germany differed much from the patterns found in Eastern Europe.

17

18

19 20

W. Kohlhammer/Stuttgart, see e.g.: Die jüdischen Gemeinden in Baden, resp. in Württemberg und Hohen^pllern. Stuttgart 1966/68. G u t h , K. 1988. ]üdische Landgemeinden in Oberfranken 1800-1942. Bamberg. Eva Gross-Lau was unfortunately not able to read Hebrew, while treadng traditionalist rural Franconian Jewry, see her Jüdisches Kulturgut auf dem Land. München 1995, 29, ref. 101 printed stars replacing the Hebrew! Kommission fur die Geschichte der Juden in Hessen, Pressemitteilung. Wiesbaden 1983, typewritten. Schochow 1969, 252 (Since 1959 Referat für Kulturgeschichte). Richarz, M. 1991. " L u f t a u f n a h m e — o d e r die Schwierigkeiten der Heimatforscher mit der jüdischen Geschichte." Babylon 8, 27-33.

In the former communist German Democratic Republic (GDR), Jewish history had never been a topic. After the antisemidc Prague Slansky trial in 1953 Jews feared to be linked with Zionism and fled as Jewish acdviries were suspected of being pro-Zionist and nonallegiant. Being aware of the West German insdtutes it was probably for competitive reasons that a chair for Hebrew was established in 1965. However, only a restricted number of students had access (2-5 in 4 years), helping the Foreign Office translating the Israeli press. 21 As in the West, the Protestant church served as haven for semi-clandestine discussion groups with interest in Jewish themes in the 1970s and 1980s. This suddenly changed in 1989 as the central committee of the communist party ordered studies on Jewish history to be published in order to "prepare" the way to the US-government by contacting functionaries of the World Jewish Congress. That same year, two young researchers were imprisoned. They had discovered too much evidence during their research concerning the destruction of Jewish cemeteries by G D R authorities. After 1990 the remnants of the former General Archives of the German Jem—formerly controlled by the Communist Central Archives—became accessible to researchers. History of Jewish organizations and communities can now be much better documented. Organisations such as the Deutsch-Israelitische Gemeindebund, Bne Brith, teachers associations, etc. are waiting for studies to become available. The majority of 160 regional and local studies registered in the 1998 listing (Arbeitsinformationen) of the Cologne library is undertaken in Germany. O f course, there is much redundancy and authors have difficulties in recognizing particular and important features. Sometimes there is even no knowledge of Jewish encyclopedias and lexica or of the Leo Baeck Year Book with its most important bibliography. Since a group of history professors today is ready to accept dissertations on topics of German-Jewish history but feel themselves no experts in the field, counseling and exchange of information had to be organized in a centralized way. This was done in the 1990s by Prof. Rürup of Berlin with the aid of a private foundation, the Reimers Stiftung. N o matter how severe the criticism it would be most unfair not to admit that progress has been made. In the 1980s a generation of students with a knowledge of Hebrew made its appearance. Today, editing the Hebrew inscriprions on Jewish tombstones is a major theme of research, especially promoted by Prof. Michael Brocke of Duisburg. The numbers of students has increased, e.g. in Heidelberg from 16 in 1979 to 161 in 1997. Books have been translated from German into Hebrew or English, e.g. Graupe's intellectual history of Modern Jewry or the collection of memoirs edited by Monika Richarz. She and Prof. Stefi Jersch-Wenzel were asked to contribute to the four-volume history of German speaking Jews (Munich 1997/98) which is published in English, Hebrew, and German. The lack of proficiency in Hebrew is especially apparent in medieval history. Thus studies on legal status, migration and persecution history still prevail in this domain. 22 Only few authors know to translate Israeli

21 22

Guide 1998: 38. T o c h , M. 1998. Die Juden im mittelalterlichen Reich. München, 47-74.

research. Here Germany could not reestablish a whole field of research being important before the Shoah. O n e has to ponder the fact that German professors of medieval history have intimate knowledge of Ladn, Greek and medieval layers of many modern languages, but Hebrew seems to be marginal for them unless there exists a hidden psychological barrier. A curious and unique p h e n o m e n o n found in German academic tradition is the predominance of theological faculties in field of research of ancient Near East. This is quite a sensitive subject and creates a problematic situation since non-Christian students or graduates are refused immatriculation and secular comparative religious studies are not very much developed in this country. This privileged status is much questioned today. Research of the modern period is still mainly confined to Germany. French, N o r t h African, Polish or other East-European or Balkan Jewry and the Sefardic heritage are neglected as is American Jewry. However, compared to the situation fifty years ago, research in modern Jewish history in Germany today, at the turn of the century, has to be taken seriously, despite some still existing inadequacies.

D I E A U S W I R K U N G E N DER EMANZIPATIONSGESETZGEBUNG AUF DIE J Ü D I S C H E N L A N D G E M E I N D E N IM H E R Z O G T U M S A C H S E N - M E I N I N G E N 1811 BIS 1871 1 A N N A - R U T H LÖWENBRÜCK Haus der Geschichte Baden-Württemberg, Stuttgart, Germany

Bis in die zweite Hälfte des 19. Jahrhunderts lebte die Mehrheit der deutschen J u d e n auf dem Lande. Jüdische Landgemeinden existierten in Bayern, Baden, Hessen, dem Rheinland, der Pfalz, in Württemberg und Thüringen, und zwar meist in Dörfern, die vor 1806 reichsritterschaftliche oder geistliche Territorien gewesen waren. Das gilt auch für das thüringische Herzogtum SachsenMeiningen. In diesem kleinen Herzogtum stellten die J u d e n im Jahre 1833/34 mit 1524 Personen 1,06% der Bevölkerung. Seit dem 17. Jahrhundert lebten sie ausschließlich in acht Landgemeinden und der Residenzstadt Hildburghausen. Typisch für ihre rechtliche und wirtschaftliche Lage vor 1808 war, daß sie unter dem Schutz verschiedener Patrimonialherren standen und dafür hohe Abgaben zu zahlen hatten, daß sie von Handwerk und Ackerbau ausgeschlossen waren, aber in religiösen Dingen Autonomie genossen. Sie konnten ihre Rabbiner frei wählen und ihr Gemeindeleben nach ihrer Tradition organisieren. In den D ö r fern, in denen ihre Vorfahren einst A u f n a h m e gefunden hatten, stellten sie ein Viertel bis ein Drittel der Einwohner und lebten räumlich in großer Nähe zur christlichen Bevölkerung. So entwickelte sich in diesen D ö r f e r n im Laufe der Jahrhunderte eine spezifische jüdische Volkskultur, wie es sie in ähnlicher F o r m auch in anderen süd- und südwestdeutschen Regionen und im Elsaß gab.

Die sozialen und wirtschaftlichen Verhältnisse in den jüdischen Landgemeinden um 1800 Diese jüdischen D o r f b e w o h n e r ernährten sich in der Regel v o m Handel mit Vieh, Fellen und Häuten, sie waren Kleinkreditgeber und Hausierer. Unter der Woche zogen die Männer von D o r f zu D o r f , versorgten die ländliche Bevölkerung mit all jenen Dingen des täglichen Gebrauchs, die man in endegenen D ö r f e r n und auf den einsamen H ö f e n der Rhön und des Thüringer Waldes nicht selbst herstellen konnte, aber auch mit luxuriöseren Produkten wie seidenen Bändern, Tressen, K n ö p f e n , mit Uhren, Büchern, Kalendern—und mit den neusten Neuigkeiten. Frauen, Alte und Kinder blieben unter der Woche Dieser Kurzbeitrag geht basiert auf meiner noch unveröffentlichten Forschungsarbeit zu dem Thema "Zwischen Assimilation und Auswanderung. Zur politischen, sozialen und wirtschaftlichen Geschichte der jüdischen Landgemeinden des Herzogtums Sachsen-Meiningen 18111871."

allein auf dem Dorf. Die Mehrheit dieser jüdischen D o r f b e w o h n e r lebte zur Miete in Häusern, die der entsprechenden Herrschaft gehörten. Zur Selbstversorgung hielt man sich ein paar Hühner, Ziegen oder Gänse. Wie die christlichen D o r f b e w o h n e r so wurden auch die jüdischen zu gewissen Zeiten zu Frondiensten bei der Herrschaft herangezogen. Im Nachhinein ist es schwer, die wirtschaftlichen Verhältnisse dieser Dorfbewohner einzuschätzen. Durch einen glücklichen Zufall sind uns jedoch umfangreiche Erhebungsdaten aus den Jahren 1808 und 1812 erhalten geblieben, die uns eine Einschätzung erlauben. Man kann davon ausgehen, daß sie in etwa die Realität widerspiegeln. Aus ihnen wird ersichtlich, daß von den etwa 1000 Juden, die damals in den sachsen-meiningischen Dörfern lebten, je nach Dorf zwischen 47% und 90% als Hausierer, Mäkler oder Altwarenhändler unter dem Existenzminimum lebten mit einem Jahreseinkommen von weniger als 80 Rthl (Reichsthaler) im Jahr. Z u m Vergleich: Um 1800 verdiente ein christlicher Handwerker in der Stadt zwischen 150 und 300 Rthl im Jahr—womit ihm ein bescheidenes Auskommen garantiert war—ein Minister am herzoglichen Hof etwa 1200 Rthl. Besonders Witwen waren von der Armut betroffen: sie hielten sich in der Regel mit Betteln und Stricken über Wasser, wenn sie nicht von ihren Kindern unterstützt werden konnten. Sieben der acht Dörfer hatten eine jüdische Bevölkerung von etwa 30 bis 100 Personen, die größte Gemeinde, Walldorf an der Werra, die nahe der herzoglichen Residenzstadt Meiningen gelegen war, zählte 432 Mitglieder. N u r in dieser größten Gemeinde gab es eine sehr kleine Gruppe von wirklich wohlhabenden Gemeindemitgliedern, deren Einkommen zwischen 1000 und 2500 Rthl im Jahr betrug und die ihr Brot vor allem mit überregionalem Tuch- und Spezereiwarenhandel, aber auch mit Viehhandel im großen Stil, verdienten. Darüber hinaus existierte nur noch in einer einzigen Gemeinde eine Gruppe mit einem mittleren Jahreseinkommen von etwa 200 bis 600 Rthl im Jahr. In allen anderen Gemeinden aber lag das Einkommensmaximum bei etwa 100 bis 200 Rthl im Jahr. Die absolute Mehrheit der jüdischen Bevölkerung SachsenMeiningens war also sehr arm. Diese wirtschaftlichen Verhältnisse wirkten sich auch auf das Heiratsverhalten der Dorfbevölkerung aus. Da junge Männer, um einen eigenen Hausstand zu gründen, die Erlaubnis des Grundherrn und ein ausreichendes Einkommen benötigten, heirateten sie meist recht spät. Das Heiratsalter lag bei Männern zwischen 25 und 35 Jahren und bei Frauen zwischen 24 und 32 Jahren. Die Frauen waren häufig älter als die Männer, was auch in der christlichen ländlichen Gesellschaft nicht selten vorkam. In der Regel wurden Ehen durch Vermittlung geschlossen. Die Ehepartner stammten entweder aus den Nachbargemeinden oder aus Orten, zu denen man Handelsbeziehungen unterhielt. Die meisten jüdischen Frauen gebaren ihr erstes Kind nach ihrem 25. Lebensjahr. Die durchschnittliche Kinderzahl konnte nicht genau errechnet werden, da nur solche Kinder in den Statistiken auftauchen, die zur Erhebungs-zeit anwesend waren. Man kann aber von einem Durchschnittswert von etwa 2>—A Kindern pro Familie ausgehen. Die Zahl illegitimer Geburten war in diesen Dörfern im Vergleich zur christlichen Bevölkerung ausgesprochen gering. In der größten Gemeinde, in Walldorf, lag sie bei 2,3%, in christlichen Gemeinden

konnte sie bis zu 13% betragen. Die jungen Männer und Frauen, die keinen Ehepartner fanden, verdingten sich meist in anderen Dörfern oder auch in der Fremde, wie z.B. in Frankfurt am Main, in wohlhabenderen jüdischen Häusern als Mägde, Dienstmädchen, Diener oder Knechte. Viele junge Männer blieben aber so lange als Teilhaber oder Bedienstete im Geschäft ihres Vaters tätig, bis sie dieses allein oder gemeinsam mit ihren Geschwistern übernehmen konnten. Überhaupt wohnten häufig mehrere Generationen einer Familie in einem Haus zusammen. Wohnraum war auch auf den Dörfern knapp und teuer. Nicht selten führten in diesen Landgemeinden die Frauen nach dem Tode ihrer Ehemänner das Geschäft weiter, solange ihre Gesundheit es zuließ. Manchmal übernahmen es auch alleinstehende Töchter, vor allem, wenn die Eltern gestorben oder arbeitsunfähig waren und sie selbst keine Heiratserlaubnis erhielten. Von den Gemeindeabgaben, deren Höhe alle drei Jahre nach dem Vermögensstand der Familien festgelegt wurde, wurde neben der Armenkasse und der Suppenküche für durchreisende jüdische Betder auch der Rabbiner, der Gemeindediener, die Totengräber, die Gemeindeboten und die Frauen, die die Mikwe betreuten, bezahlt. Organisiert waren die Gemeinden in jenen Jahren in Form einer Oligarchie. Zwar gab es eine Gemeindeversammlung, doch die Meinung der Wohlhabendsten und Zahlungskräftigsten hatte bei Entscheidüngen das größte Gewicht. Sie waren es auch, die in den meisten Fällen das Amt des Parnas übernahmen und die Gemeinde bei der Obrigkeit vertraten. Diese Gemeindestruktur war typisch für die Landgemeinden um die Wende vom 18. zum 19. Jahrhundert.

Das Emanzipationsgesetz von 1811 In jener Zeit aber begannen die äußeren Parameter für das Leben der jüdischen Gemeinden sich zu verändern. Unter dem Eindruck der napoleonischen Herrschaft erließen die mit Napoleon verbündeten deutschen Staaten, die "Rheinbundstaaten," zu denen auch Sachsen-Meiningen gehörte, Emanzipationsgesetze, die die rechtliche und politische Lage der Juden verbessern sollten. Im Gegensatz zu dem französischen Emanzipationsgesetz von 1791 waren diese deutschen Emanzipationsgesetze Er^tebungsgeset^e. Sie gingen von der zwar aufklärerischen, doch judenfeindlichen Prämisse aus, die Juden seien durch die jahrhundertelange Unterdrückung durch die Christen und ihre einseitige Berufsstruktur verderbt und daher nicht fähig, sofort alle bürgerlichen Rechte zu genießen. Der Handel, das traditionelle Berufsfeld der Juden, galt als "unproduktiv" im Gegensatz zu den produzierenden Gewerben wie den Handwerken. Auch das sachsen-meiningische Gesetz, das 1811 erlassen wurde, ging von dieser Prämisse aus. Es hatte eine Art "Umerziehung" der jüdischen Bewohner des Herzogtums zum Ziel, nach deren Abschluß ihnen die vollen Staats- und Gemeindebürgerrechte gewährt werden sollten. Dieses Gesetz brachte den Juden zwar einige Verbesserungen, d.h. es machte sie zu Staatsangehörigen, es öffnete ihnen all jene Berufe, von denen sie bis dahin ausgeschlossen waren, die Zünfte und Innungen, den Ackerbau, Künste und Wissenschaften, und es glich ihre

Steuern denen der Christen an. Andererseits unterwarf es sie strengen, diskriminierenden Beschränkungen: So konnte in einer Familie nur der Sohn heiraten, der einen anderen Beruf als den des Hausierers oder Händlers ergriff. Händler durfte nur der werden, der eine Kaufmannslehre abschloß und über ein bestimmtes Grundkapital verfügte. Die Aufnahme in Zünfte und Innungen wurde zwar erlaubt, doch hing sie von der Zustimmung der christlichen Mitglieder ab. Auch das Staatsbürgerrecht konnte ein Jude nur erlangen, wenn er einen handwerklichen, landwirtschaftlichen oder wissenschaftlichen Beruf und einen moralischen Lebenswandel nachzuweisen vermochte. E r mußte hierzu einen Antrag bei der Regierung stellen. Im Nachhinein kann man feststellen, daß die Neigung vorherrschte, solche Anträge abschlägig zu beantWorten. Tatsache ist, daß praktisch bis zur Jahrhundertmitte, also bis zur 1848er-Revolution, nur wenige Juden dieses Ziel erreichten. Des Weiteren blieb den Juden das Recht auf Freizügigkeit verwehrt. Wollten sie sich in einem anderen als ihrem Heimatort niederlassen, dann mußten sie Handwerksmeister oder Fabrikbesitzer sein und die Zustimmung der gesamten Stadt oder Gemeinde erhalten. So errichteten Juden zwar in zahlreichen Gemeinden und Städten Handelsniederlassungen, Bürger konnten sie dort aber nicht werden. Nach dem Patent sollten im D o r f die christliche und die jüdische Gemeinde als kirchliche und politische Einheiten nebeneinander bestehen, wobei dem Parnas nicht dieselben Rechte zugestanden wurden wie dem christlichen Bürgermeister, der z.B. allein die Polizeigewalt auf Dorfebene besaß. Die Vereinigung von christlicher und jüdischer Gemeinde zu einer politischen kommunalen Einheit wurde erst 1856 vollzogen. Weiterhin sah das Gesetz tiefgreifende Eingriffe in das religiöse Leben der jüdischen Gemeinden vor: Z u m einen sollte die deutsche Sprache in Form von Predigten im jüdischen Gottesdienst benutzt werden, zum anderen sollte ein Land-rabbiner angestellt werden, der unter staatlicher Aufsicht stehen und die Ideen der Aufklärung und Reform in die Gemeinden tragen sollte. Begabte junge Männer sollten an staatlichen Schulen zu Lehrern ausgebildet werden und später dann in den Gemeinden unterrichten. Für jüdische Kinder wurde die Schulpflicht eingeführt.

Die Folgen des Emanzipationsgesetzes Dieses Emanziparionsgesetz wurde von den jüdischen Gemeinden des Herzogtums scharf kritisiert. Man sah sich einer Fülle von Neuerungen und Beschränkungen gegenüber, ohne dafür mehr Rechte, vor allem das Staatsbürgerrecht, zu erhalten. Sie reichten eine gemeinsame Petition bei der Regierung ein, die jedoch abgewiesen wurde. Die Regierung wollte ihre Politik durchsetzen. Deren Ziel lautete: Aus den bis dahin außerhalb der christlichen Gesellschaft stehenden Juden, die jahrhundertelang als eigene Gruppe im Feudalsystem nach ihren eigenen Gesetzen und Traditionen gelebt hatten, sollten künftig sachsen-meiningische Bürger jüdischer Konfession werden. Und in der Tat, trotz vehementer Widerstände seitens der christlichen Bevöl-kerung wurde die mit dem Patent begonnene Politik in den folgenden Jahr-zehnten durchge-

setzt. Zwar blieb zunächst der größte Teil der jüdischen Männer aufgrund wirtschaftlicher Zwänge als Händler tätig. Denn gerade für Männer über 25 war es nahezu unmöglich, einen neuen Beruf zu erlernen. Aber die meisten bemühten sich, ihre Söhne bei einem Handwerksmeister in die Lehre zu geben—gegen den massiven Widerstand der christlichen Zünfte und Innungen. Manche kämpften Jahre, bis es ihnen gelang, einen Lehrmeister zu finden. Andere schickten ihre Söhne auf höhere Schulen und Universitäten, wieder andere engagierten Privadehrer. In den 1840er Jahren gab es auch im Herzogtum Sachsen-Meiningen den ersten jüdischen Rechtsanwalt, der Jahre um seine Approbation hatte kämpfen müssen. Der Staatsdienst blieb Juden jedoch weiterhin verschlossen. Aufgrund der wirtschaftlichen Krisen der 30er und 40er Jahre des 19. Jahrhunderts fanden nicht alle, die ein Handwerk gelernt hatten, eine Arbeit. So kam es zu der paradoxen Entwicklung, daß gerade die jungen, gut ausgebildeten jüdischen Männer verstärkt nach den USA auswan-derten. Dies sei am Beispiel der Stadt Hildburghausen verdeutlicht: Von 42 jungen Männern, die dort zwischen 1811 und 1834 geboren wurden, erlernten 24 ein Handwerk oder ergriffen einen akademischen Beruf: Sie wurden Gürtler, Uhrmacher, Gerber, Riemer, Beuder, Weber, Schuhmacher, Drechsler, Bürsten-binder, Goldarbeiter, Bildhauer, Buchbinder, Posamentier, Lehrer, Mediziner, Jurist, Mathematiker. 16 machten eine Kaufmannslehre, einer wurde Handelsmann, einer erlernte keinen Beruf. Zwei der jungen Männer verstarben früh, von den übrigen 40 fanden nur acht in ihrer Heimatstadt ein Auskommen, davon fünf Handwerker und drei Kaufleute. Von den übrigen befanden sich 1853 zehn in den USA, sechs in anderen europäischen Ländern, sieben in anderen deutschen Staaten, zwei in anderen meiningischen Orten, bei zweien ließ sich der neue Aufenthaltsort nicht feststellen. Das heißt, nur 25% aller jungen jüdischen Männer Hildburghausens blieben im Herzogtum Meiningen, 75% suchten hingegen ihr Glück in der Fremde. So erklärt sich, daß die Juden 1833 1,06% (1524 Personen) der Bevölkerung des Herzogtums stellten, 1870/71 jedoch nur noch 0,89% (1625 Personen). A b 1838 wurde ein Landrabbiner eingestellt, der einerseits eine traditionelle Rabbinerausbildung durchlaufen, andererseits aber auch eine Universität besucht hatte und der Reformbewegung anhing. Gegen den Widerstand traditionsbewußter Gemeindemitglieder achtete er darauf, daß die von Moses Mendelssohn und seinen Anhängern inspirierten Ideen der Reform auch in den Dörfern Fuß faßten. Er und seine Nachfolger hielten Visitationen ab, d.h. sie besuchten regelmäßig die Gemeinden, überprüften die Lage vor O r t und schrieben Berichte darüber für das herzogliche Konsistorium. Im Jahre 1844 wurde eine neue Gottesdienstordnung eingeführt, die der Landrabbiner Joseph H o f f mann ausgearbeitet hatte. Sie hatte im Grunde die Angleichung des jüdischen Gottes-dienstes an christliche Gepflogenheiten zum Ziel, vor allem aber die Benutzung der deutschen Sprache für Predigten, die Gründung von Synagogenchören und die Einführung von Disziplinarstrafen bei Störungen der Ordnung. Die meisten Gemeinden bemühten sich, diesen Vorgaben gerecht zu werden. Gerade die wohlhabenderen Gemeindemitglieder orientierten sich früh an städtischen bzw. stadtbürgerlichen Vorbildern.

Schon vor der Einstellung des Landrabbiners begannen die jüdischen Dorfgemeinden unter einem mehr oder minder großen Druck seitens der Regierung moderne Verwaltungsmechanismen in ihrer Gemeindeorganisation zu übernehmen. Seit den 1830er Jahren wurden protokollierte GemeindeVersammlungen abgehalten, man führte eine geregelte Buchhaltung ein und legte ein Archiv an (erhalten in den Central Archives for the History of the Jewish People, Jerusalem, und im Centrum Judaicum, Berlin). Etwa zur gleichen Zeit begann man mit der Führung von Personenstandsregistern. Anhand dieser erhaltenen Register läßt sich u.a. beobachten, daß die jüdischen D o r f b e w o h n e r Sachsen-Meiningens ihren Kindern seit den 40er Jahren des 19. Jahrhunderts verstärkt deutsche Namen gaben; die traditionell jüdischen Namen dienten meist nur noch als Zweitnamen. Hießen die Kinder in den 1820er Jahren noch Gitel, Blümchen, Breine, Hayum, Löser oder Mordechai, so wurden sie nun Auguste, Amalie, Zerline, Gustav, Wilhelm oder Moritz genannt. Neben der langsamen Akkulturation, die sich über die 1. Hälfte des 19. Jahrhunderts hinzog und schließlich den Wandel der traditionellen Kehilla zu einer religiösen Körperschaft bedingte, fand der Kampf um die Emanzipation, d.h. um die rechtliche Gleichstellung der Juden mit den Christen, statt. Hier taten sich besonders jene jüngeren Leute hervor, die schon studiert oder ein Handwerk erlernt hatten und beruflich erfolgreich waren, die aber weiterhin von der polirischen Mitspräche im Lande ausgeschlossen waren. Sie forderten vor allem das Wahlrecht und die Freizügigkeit. Zwar hatte die herzogliche Regierung schon seit Beginn der 1830er Jahre die Absicht, ein neues Emanziparionsgesetz auf den Weg zu bringen. Doch wurden die unterschiedlichen Gesetzesentwürfe, die dem Landtag in den 1830er und 1840er Jahren vorgelegt wurden, immer wieder durch den starken Andsemidsmus der meiningischen Christen zu Fall gebracht. Die Juden selbst, allen voran die fortschrittlich gesinnte und polirisch engagierte Gemeinde von Hildburghausen, verlangten in wiederholten Petitionen "die rechtliche GleichStellung mit den christlichen Unterthanen im Namen der Religionsfreiheit, der Gerechtigkeit und der Staatsklugheit." Doch zunächst ohne Erfolg! Die Revolution von 1848 und die damals propagierten "Grundrechte des deutschen Volkes" brachten ihnen zwar für kurze Zeit gleiche Bürgerrechte, nach dem Scheitern der Revolution wurden sie jedoch—wie anderswo auch—wieder zurückgenommen. 1856 wurde schließlich ein Gesetz erlassen, das zwar einige Verbesserungen mit sich brachte, doch immer noch nicht die ersehnte Gleichstellung. Die Freizügigkeit blieb weiter eingeschränkt und der Erwerb des Staatsbürgerrechts wie bisher an einen besonderen Antrag gebunden. Die sachsen-meiningischen Juden fühlten sich durch dieses Gesetz diskriminiert und benachteiligt, als Bürger 2. Klasse. Erst am 25. Februar 1868 erklärte der junge, liberal gesinnte Herzog Georg II kurz nach seinem Regierungsantritt und dem Beitritt Sachsen-Meiningens zum Norddeutschen Bund die meiningischen Juden zu gleichberechtigten Staatsbürgern. Mit dieser späten Emanzipation stellt Sachsen-Meiningen jedoch keine Ausnähme dar. Die Mehrheit der deutschen Staaten handelte nicht anders. Auch

Preußen, Bayern, Baden oder W ü r t t e m b e r g gewährten ihren jüdischen Bürgern erst in d e n 1 8 6 0 e r J a h r e n gleiche R e c h t e , z u e i n e r Z e i t , als sich die A k k u l t u r a t i o n d e r d e u t s c h e n J u d e n s c h o n v o l l z o g e n h a t t e . D e r G r u n d f ü r diese v e r s p ä t e t e E m a n z i p a t i o n ist in e i n e r s t a r k e n a n t i j ü d i s c h e n G r u n d s t i m m u n g z u s u c h e n , die in all d i e s e n S t a a t e n existierte u n d d e r die R e g i e r u n g e n in i h r e r G e setzgebung i m m e r wieder R e c h n u n g trugen.

Bibliographie Bundesarchiv, Abd. Potsdam, Personenstandsregister Jüdische Gemeinde Walld o r f / W e r r a , Filme Nr. 74772/257; 74773/258, 259. Heß, U. 1954. Forschungen zur Verfassungs—und Verwaltungsgeschichte des Herzogtums SachsenCoburg-Meiningen. 3 Vol. Ms. ThStA Mgn. Vol 1, 233-242. Human, A. 1898. Geschichte der Juden im Herzogtum Sachsen-Meiningen-Hildburghausen. Hildburghausen. Jacobson, J. 1926. "Zur Begründung des Landrabbinats und zur Entstehung der Synagogen- und Gottesdienstordnung für das Herzogtum Sachsen-Meiningen." MGDJ 6. Jg., 66-97. Die "Synagogen- und Gottesdienstordnung der israelitischen Gemeinden im Herzogthum S. Meiningen" erschien als Beilage des Herzoglich SachsenMeiningischen Regierungs- und Intelligenzblattes vom 22. Juni 1844 (Nr. 25). Knodel, J. E. 1988. Demographic behavior in the past. Λ study offourteen German village populaHons in the eighteenth and nineteenth century. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1 9 2 197. Levi, F., Liedtke, R., Wendehorst, S. 1996. "Die Frühphase der Judenemanzipation in Sachsen-Meiningen." In Beiträge zur Geschichte jüdischen Lebens in Thüringen. Ed. Th. Bahr. Jena, 39-103. Löwenbrück, Α., Olbrisch, G. 1996. "Juden in Thüringen." In Thüringen. Eine politische Landeskunde. Ed. K. Schmitt. Weimar: Böhlau, 218-226. Oelsner, T. 1942. "Three Jewish Families in Modern Germany. A study of the Process of Emancipation." JSS 4, 241-361. Richarz, M and Rürup, R. eds. 1997. Jüdisches Leben auf dem Lande. Studien zur deutschjüdischen Geschichte. Tübingen: Mohr. Thüringisches Staatsarchiv Meiningen, Bestand Staatsministerium, Abd. Finanzen, Nr. 5793, 5794, 5795, 5796; Bestand Inneres Alt, 42.1399, Bl. 100-126; Bestand Inneres Alt, 43.472 u. Bestand Staatsministerium, Abd. IV, Kirchen—und Schulen, 166; Bestand Herzoglich Sachsen-Meiningischer Landtag, Nr. 803, Bl. 20-21.

E U R O P E ' S LAST P O G R O M ? A PROVISIONAL N O T E O N T H E SOCIOGENESIS OF D I S C R I M I N A T I O N AND V I O L E N C E DANIEL MEIJERS Vrije Universiteit, Amsterdam, T h e Netherlands

Introduction W h e n I started to work on the present subject someone asked me, "why andsemidsm? A whole library is written on anti-semitism. Why anti-semitism again?" However, although m u c h is written on anti-semitism, in a certain sense many of these studies seem to miss the point. Explaining anti-semitism is often done in monocausal terms of cause and effect, which in my opinion is too simpie. Religion or the Church, or the economy is seen as a unique cause of andsemitism. O r , it is explained in psychological terms: man is an aggressive being, a statement, however, that fails to explain why it happened there and then. T h e problem is not unimportant. There is not only anti-semitism, but there is also a war in Bosnia-Hercegowina, there is a struggle between the Hutus and the Tutsis, and in Germany there are problems with foreigners. According to recent research one third of Europe's population is racially prejudiced. More than ever, it is time to perceive anti-semitism as a special variant of a world-wide phen o m e n o n . I will explain my objections against traditional explanations by analyzing a special case of anti-semitic violence, Europe's so-called last pogrom. And, by comparing two different societies, the Dutch and the Polish, I will propose a new approach to explain the socio-genesis of anti-semitic and other discriminatory behaviour.

Kielce 1946 O n July 7, 1996 the Polish town of Kielce commemorated the last European pogrom, which had taken place fifty years earlier on July 4, 1946. T h e trigger that sparked the p o g r o m was the sudden disappearance of a ten-year-old boy who, it was later discovered, had simply run away f r o m h o m e and returned the next day of his own accord. Immediately, a r u m o u r started that the Jews were holding fifteen Christian children in a house in order to ritually slaughter them for blood for their Passover matzos. Five thousand inhabitants of Kielce, led by police and supported by soldiers, raided the house and the incident escalated into a massacre. Forty-two of the 250 Jews w h o at that time had returned to Kielce f r o m the G e r m a n death camps were killed. This bloodbath marked the end of Kielce's Jewish community, where, before the war, more than 20,000 Jews had lived. They formed a third of the

town's population. Those 200 who survived the 1946 pogrom migrated to other countries and places. From a purely humanitarian perspecdve it seems incredible that the inhabitants of Kielce should have treated the Jews of the town, who had already suffered so much, in this way. H o w can one explain the fact that five thousand citizens of Kielce, helped by police and soldiers, could, from one m o m e n t to the next, turn so cold-bled on those few Jews?

Persecutors and victims: stereotypes in debate Were we to have asked the victims they would undoubtedly have replied: "That's how Poles are. Anti-Semitism is in their blood. The parents hand it down to the children." But this answer, which comes down to the supposition that Jews in Poland were always and in general terms "naturally" hated, explains nothing. It simply states that social relations between Jewish and non-Jewish Poles had been tainted by hatred and resentment for centuries. The same applies to other answers, such as the Roman Catholic Church being the single and real cause of Polish anti-semitism, or the Communists, among w h o m there had always been many Jews, who the Poles hated. The implication here is that antisemitism is the result of this hatred, which in itself needs an explanation. These answers are historical observations, but they do not explain why, in 1946, this massacre took place. Therefore, to say that the Roman Catholic Church has always promoted anti-semitism says equally little about the events in Kielce, although the rumour that Christian children were being murdered to provide blood for matzos suggests a religious justification for the pogrom. Let us not misconstrue the problem, however. The Polish Church—and more specifically the agitation by Roman Catholic priests—certainly played a prominent role in the history of Polish persecution of Jews. Catholic perceptions of Jews were not exacdy philo-Semitic and it was the Catholic clergy who were the most ardent in preaching the message of anti-semitism. Nevertheless, it is too simplistic to blame the Church and the Roman Catholic community as such, for all the discrimination and persecution. T o do so would imply either that all Catholics were born corrupt or that all Jews acted immorally and were accordingly persecuted. N o t only are both statements no more than extreme value judgements; more importandy, they miss the point. It is not a question of morality, but of an explanation in social-scientific terms. It is not a matter of identifying the perpetrators and the victims—Daniel Goldhagen's book forms a good illustration of such an approach—but of discovering how this reladonship between people could develop. Why was it that the Polish clergy felt it necessary to spread these ideas? After all, anti-semitic ideas have not been propagated by Catholic priests in every age and in every country. First and foremost, these priests were Polish priests. There is another reason to place question marks beside the usual explanations of anti-semitism. T o blame the Roman Catholic Church of Poland for anti-semitism suggests a rather uncritical acceptance that religious institutions have, over the centuries, defined the behaviour of their members. Surely this credits religion with rather more influence than it actually has. In my opinion,

the reifying idea of "religion" as the autonomous cause of behaviour is an ideological concept that is based on a religious rather than a sociological premise. Moreover, empirical evidence suggests rather less obvious conclusions. There are all kinds of regions and cultures in which people have the same or almost the same religious ideas as in Poland and where no or much less and-semidsm occurs. Current examples include Italy, Spain and Portugal, where Jews were indeed once persecuted. In more general terms, it is difficult to establish a direct link between religion and social behaviour.

Towards a possible explanation of the case The only way to explain ethnic discrimination is as a product of the social circumstances in the widest sense. Taking the specific case of Polish anti-semitism, it is remarkable that anti-semitism still plays a role in the way Poles think, even though there are hardly any Jews living in Poland any more. Likewise in the new republics of the former Soviet Union, where outbursts of anti-semitic violence occur regularly. It is legitimate to ask, therefore, why anti-semitism is so much stronger in Eastern Europe than in most parts of Western Europe. A comparison, for example, of the history of Dutch Jews and Russian or Polish Jews is enlightening. After the Middle Ages there were no pogroms to speak of in the Netherlands, while in the same period in Eastern and Central Europe there was hardly a period without persecutions and blood libels against the Jews. Throughout these centuries, Holland differed markedly from EasternEuropean, and many other societies. In the first place, the close of the medieval period ushered in the decline of the aristocracy. After the Reformation, the Dutch Republic developed as an almost exclusively commercial power in which the prosperous burgers of the cities dictated policy. The Dutch economy revolved around trade and shipping. Thinly peopled, it welcomed educated and wealthy immigrants. Newcomers brought money and new trading contacts. Moreover, the Protestant Republic was embroiled in a war of independence against Roman-Catholic Spain that lasted for eighty years (1568-1648). N o country was as emphatic about the principle of religious tolerance as the young Dutch Republic. Perhaps in reaction to the struggle against the Spanish king, no court society developed around the House of Orange, as happened in France, England and Germany. The princes of Orange led the Dutch army, but they were not the focus of a court culture. In the Dutch Republic after the Eighty Years War feudalism was no longer a significant factor (Davids 1995: 7-9). There was no major landowning class and there was no class of subservient peasants. Since then, the Netherlands has never acquired a "real" aristocracy, there is no aristocratic class derived from a system of feudal tenure. Apart from the royal family, the country has no princes or dukes. There are a number of counts and barons, but most hereditary rides are given to descendants of the urban regency who were raised to the peerage for their economic and administrative prowess. In short, Dutch society might, without too much exaggeration, be typified as one large middle class of urban traders and artisans and a free peasantry, with various

exceptions here and there, upward and downward. Compared with other societies, the social differences between those at the top and those at the bottom have been small. The Jews who began to setde in the Netherlands in the seventeenth century originally came from Spain and Portugal. They were no less opposed to the Catholic Spaniards than the Protestant Dutch. Moreover, they represented a reinforcement of the Dutch mercantile interest (Wolf 1982: 116). In fact, both the Sephardic Jews from the Levant and the Ashkénaze Eastern- and CentralEuropean Jews, who began settling in Holland after the Portuguese Jews, differed in many ways from the Dutch—in religion, traditions, language—but were much closer in an economic sense. They were not so much a threat to an underdeveloped middle class, as in Poland, as a reinforcement of the social fabric, of which the overall social-economic characteristics were essentially middle class. When the first Jews arrived in Poland in the Middle Ages, they were welcorned. The king granted them all manner of privileges, realizing that there were all kinds of economic advantages to their arrival (Meijers 1989: 17-18). Polish society at that time comprised mainly an aristocratic elite and a mass of servile peasants. Because the country was relatively un-urbanized, the burgers of the towns played a less prominent role in Poland than elsewhere. Both here and in Russia, trade and industry were not developed to any great extent, and it was Jews w h o were able to give a new impetus in this area. Agriculture in these thinly populated countries was still very much the principal means of subsistence. In this society the Jews played a role in which they incurred the wrath of first one and then the other social class (Dubnow VII, 1928: 18-19; Meijers 1989: 39-41). In the countryside, they represented the absentee aristocratic landlords, although they owned no land themselves. They were hated as the stewards and rent-collectors of the oppressors of the peasantry. Meanwhile, in the towns they were seen to pose a threat as commercial rivals to the existing burgers. Clearly, the enormous differences between the social classes formed the principal reason why anti-semitism continued to exist in Eastern Europe over the centuries. At the top of the Eastern-European social ladder was the aristocratic elite, while on the lowest rung was the mass of peasants. Compared with Western-European societies, the intermediate bourgeoisie was a factor of little consequence. Between the various classes of gentry, burgers and peasants lay enormous, unbridgeable divides. It would be hard to imagine a society in which the sentiments of hate were so perfectly preserved in the rigid social-economic and cultural stratification. Moreover, as a major landowner, the Church played a unique role. The Church rivalled the aristocracy in several areas, allying itself to the bourgeoisie and justifying its politics and actions by periodically accusing the Jews of responsibility for every possible social evil. This historical gulf between those at the top and those at the bottom of society remained in place in Russia and Poland even after the Revolution of 1917: the Communist regime simply imposed a new aristocracy of Party bureaucrats

who—in time-honoured fashion—treated the rest of the population as subservient. In societies in which the tensions and differences between the privileged and the oppressed run so high, the various social groups must find reinforcements simply to maintain their position in society. The weaker groups are constandy being suppressed since, in such an unstable society, they are constandy forming new coalitions and therefore form a perceived threat to the established position of the dominant group. In this way, in Eastern Europe the Jews formed an underclass that posed a potential threat. This applied equally to other minority groups. For example the Gypsies, who, as a subservient ethnic unit were also the historical target of persecutions. In a rigidly stratified society like this, the dominant and the dominated groups develop rather stereotypical notions about their rivals and, because these notions become part and parcel of their culture, handed down from generation to generation, they start to live a life of their own. They do not exist in people's imagination, bearing no relation to their lives, like a traditional legend or a fairytale. These images can convey deep emotions in human beings, since what we are dealing with here are still relatively unstable societies, in which "the other" still poses a serious threat to one's position in society. In 1995 a short but important research project investigated anti-semitism in a Polish village in which no Jew had lived since the Second World War. Despite that fact, the villagers appeared to have raised their children with all manner of grisly stories about Jews (Lehman 1995: 88-90). These stereotypes of Jews had become part of their cultural baggage, even though the protagonists were no longer a part of their everyday lives. In other words, as long as Poland is subjected to serious social tensions, Jews will always be equated with any threat to a group's existence. And the more powerful the tension, the bigger the chance that violence will erupt.

Kielce 1946 again As we have seen, a distinction must be made between what people think and the way they act. Thoughts are not direcdy related to actions. And the continuity of particular images of other human beings and the rise of violence should also be seen separately. In a country in which social differences are marked—in which people rarely interact on the basis of equality—these perceptions of the other tend to preserve people's prejudices, even if the subjects of those perceptions no longer exist. Societies of this nature will therefore always have a stock of notions on which to draw to justify violence. Perceptions in themselves do not lead to human behaviour; but human behaviour does lead to a surge for justification in legitimizing perceptions. Violence does not erupt of its own accord either. In any state, the established authorities must necessarily monopolize violence. The sudden eruption of violence in Kielce implies that in Poland, in 1946, the national means of enforcement—army and police—were not under central control. The local military and police authorities played—on their own authority and initiative—a leading role in the pogrom. Perhaps this can best be understood in the context

of the emergence of the Polish state as the result of a long struggle between rival groups—that is, of relatively independent human configurations of violence. This struggle eventually led to the victory of the strongest party, the Communists, w h o nevertheless still had to establish their authority in a society which was as yet far from pacified. The Communists were eventually able—not through their own strength alone, but with Soviet support—to establish their authority by violendy suppressing every other form of association. Finally, in 1948, Poland was declared a people's democracy and in 1952 a new constitution was promulgated. Despite these formal Communist milestones, tensions continued to exist in subsequent years and were occasionally suppressed with the aid of Russian military force. Years of resistance to Communist repression, a resistance which at times rested more on symbolism than on military force, implies that the monopolization of the means of enforcement by the state was not achieved without effort. The later struggles of Solidarity and the subsequent fall of the Communist regime demonstrate that the monopolization of military force is not sufficient to keep a government in place. The scale and duration of social conflicts also play a role, since this is what determines how many individuals are prepared to resist a particular authority. In an oppressive state, i.e. in a state in which a relatively small elite dominates the mass of the people, the struggle for power can lead to a succession of events in which the enormous economic significance of the masses makes it ever harder to control them. That applies all the more in today's society, which is far more dependent on production by the many than ever before. 1 Strikes by factory workers are a modern variation of the use of force which the state is scarcely able to control since this use of force contains an economic threat against which the violence of the state cannot prevail. This last is of course a consequence of the technical complexity of today's production processes. Workers may be forced back to their jobs, but it is far harder to impel people to make the extra effort that is essential in the production of high-quality goods on which society has become economically dependent. This development, the final demise of feudalism, is conceptualized as the Industrial Revolution, the process in which the power of the monarchy and aristocracy is gradually eroded and the power of the workers as a class gradually increases. However, the development of these new societies has led, especially in countries where relations between the various economic groupings were far from crystallized, to extreme conflicts. And Poland is no exception. This case is one of sudden and apparendy completely unnecessary and inexplicable violence. T o explain the events that took place in Kielce in 1946 an

An exception is perhaps societies in which production depended on a large army of slaves or a subservient populadon. In this kind of society the unfree masses were reladvely easily manipulated by the central authority. T h e difference between then and now is, however, that the slaves and serfs of the past were freed of their des as a socially essendal ingredient for industrial reform and were therefore able to overthrow the old regime. That led to a further strengthening of their position so that the government could no longer make them as dependent as they were during the old regime.

analysis should not only consider the global, social history of Poland, but also the local history, particularly the social relations between Jews and non-Jews in the town. More research is therefore needed into the relations between the two groups before the war, within the wider context of Polish society. For example, research should be directed into what happened to the possessions of the Jews of Kielce during the war. It seems clear that many inhabitants of the town were far from happy to see those two hundred Jews returning in 1945. It was a small town, with a large Jewish population: a third of the inhabitants. What kind of property owned by Jews before the war was now in the hands of non-Jews? H o w had Jews and non-Jews got on with each other in Kielce in the previous centuries? W h o had employed whom? If this history can be traced, it may reveal a pattern of people struggling to survive in competitive positions in the remains of a society with a past tainted by tension. This view, which requires further research for a more substantial basis in fact, suggests the provisional conclusion that in the long term, problems like this can only be solved through regulated prosperity and social equality. Only if the differences between the higher and lower levels in society are kept within bounds is it possible to defeat the social evils of anti-semitism and all other forms of repression and racism (Meijers 1995). This should be one of the main priorities of the modern world in general and of a united Europe in particular.

References Davids, C. A. 1995. De macht der gewoonte? Economische ontwikkeling en institutionele context in Neder/and op de lange termijn. Rede uitgesproken bij de aanvaarding van het ambt van hoogleraar economische en sociale geschiedenis aan de faculteit der letteren en de faculteit der economische wetenschappen en econometrie van de Vrije Universiteit te Amsterdam op 19 juni 1995. Amsterdam: Vrije Universiteit. D u b n o w , S. 1928. Weltgeschichte des Jüdischen Volkes. Band VII. Berlin: Jüdischer Verlag.

Goldhagen, D. J. 1996. Hitlers willing executioners. Ordinary Germans and the Holocaust. London: Litde, Brown and Company.

Lehmann, R. 1995. Symbiosis and Ambivalence. Poles and Jews in a small Galician town. Amsterdam & Cracow: University of Amsterdam & Jagiellonian University. M. A. Thesis.

Meijers, D. 1989. De revolutie der vromen. Ontstaan en ontwikkeling van het chassidisme. Waarin i opgenomen het verslag van reb Dan Is/-Toms reis door de eeuwigheid. Hilversum: Gooi en Sucht. , 1995. "Slechts sociale rechtvaardigheid kan antisémitisme uitbannen." In

NRC/

Handelsblad d. d. 31-1-1995, 10. Wolf, E. R. 1982. Europe and the people without history. Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: University of California Press.

JEWISH A N D MARRANO CONNECTIONS IN T H E RELATIONSHIP OF P R I N Z LUIS SALVADOR OF HABSBURG AND N A T H A N I A L VON R O T H S C H I L D GLORIA M O U N D Casa Shalom, Gan Yavneh, Israel T h e friendship between Prinz Luis Salvador of Habsburg and Baron Nathanial von Rothschild is unique in many ways. While a considerable a m o u n t of detail regarding it is still shrouded in mystery because of the difficulty of accessing papers, we nevertheless know enoqgh to reflect on the fact that these two men had a reladonship that strengthened over the years and that it began at a time when Jews were not accepted at the Austrian Habsburg Court. Prinz Luis, w h o was the ninth child of the second marriage of Prinz Leopold, 11 of Tuscany and Maria Antonia de Bourbon of the two Sicilies, was born at the Pitti Palace, Florence, on the 4' h , August 1847. At an early age he travelled considerably to the Royal Courts and Palaces in Europe, 1 visidng families to which he was closely related. Even from the accounts of his earliest teenage journeys it can be seen that the young man took an extraordinary interest in his destinations and people he met en-route. By the age of twenty he was unofficially engaged to be married to his cousin Matilda, but she was to die before any official betrothal. H e never in his lifetime publicly committed himself again to wedlock. Prinz Luis first visited Ibiza, the third largest Balearic Island (Spain) in 1868, as part of the Grand T o u r of Europe then de rigueur for sons of the Nobility. He only planned to stay a day, but found there was no boat to continue his journey to the larger island of Majorca for a week. This prolonged visit was to change the course of his life entirely, because the enforced sojourn made him study his surroundings in depth. Consequendy the missives that he dutifully wrote h o m e to his mother about his impressions of this beautiful, but then rather primitive Island, seems to have been the catalyst to subsequent literary efforts. Henceforth he profusely studied, wrote about and drew the people, culture, folklore fauna and flora of all the Balearics, as well as many other places that he visited, but it was about these Spanish Islands that he wrote in greatest detail. In all, we have record of an excess of seventy written works d o n e by him in his lifetime. In the course of his meticulous research he reported h o m e that Jews were living on Ibiza, the families having been there for generations. H e mentioned that they were respected by the Islanders amongst w h o m they formed a distinct c o m m u -

March, J. 1983. S'Arxiduc. Palma de Majorca: Orlenata, 17.·

nity and that while outwardly they were good Catholics, in reality they kept to the ways of their ancestors, marrying only amongst themselves. He classified their trades and the important part they played in the Island's commerce, locating the part of Ibiza T o w n in which they resided. He also noted that the majority had red hair, which is quite usual for people of Jewish origin in the Balearics. 2 His publishing about the condnuadon of Jewish communal life on Ibiza was an unexpected revelation and is even today of great historical importance. Considering the deep insularity of the Ibicencos, a trait that continues to modern times, one cannot but wonder how a young inexperienced Prince became informed so rapidly about a group of people that should not have been there after 1492. A section of the Island's population who would have had reason to hide their way of life from outsiders, especially if inquiries were initiated by one so closely related to the Spanish Royal house. We now know that Prinz Luis stayed with the Austrian Consul, Juan Wallis, who was one of these outwardly conforming Catholics, many of whose descendants even today regard themselves as Jews, so one must conclude this was the prince's primary source of such private data. Wallis was the Austrian Consul from 1863-1896. He and other brothers and sons from this large family served as Consuls for France, England, Netherlands etc. In later years both the Prince and Nathanial von Rothschild were close friends with them, staying in each others houses and sailing the seas together in their yachts. Just one year after the prince's initial visit to these Spanish Islands, the first volume of Die Balearen in Wort und Bild appeared, entided Die Alten Pityusen. Pityusen, being the German tide for the Pitusues Islands, (or Pine Islands), by which the southern Balearics of Ibiza and Formentera are known. It is obvious that close scrutiny had been paid to many facets of the residents' lives before publishing. T h e number of dwellings, schools, criminals, doctors, chemists, general professions etc. were all dutifully documented. In addition, there again appeared a clear description of the Jews in Ibiza and their habits. The edition, which was eventually to one be of seven volumes, was arranged by an enterprising editor of the Leipzig publishing house, Brockhaus, who had seen the letters to Prinz Luis's Mother. He understood that this young prince was exceptionally perceptive and interested in a people and culture not connected with his own station in life; correcdy gauging that such expertise would find a publishing market, especially since the text was made even more explicit by the talented colorful drawings that accompanied them. The book was dedicated to Prinz Luis's uncle, the E m p e r o r of Austria, Franz Josef. Continuing a Democratic lifestyle that was way ahead of his time, the prince's subsequent association with the Rothschilds must have initially raised eyebrows at the strict Austrian Court. His closest and most enduring friendship within this Banking family was with Baron Nathanial von Rothschild, who was born in Vienna on October 26 th , 1836, the fourth child and eldest of three sons of Anselm Solomon Rothschild and his cousin Charlotte de Rothschild of London. Nathanial, was regarded

2

Patai, R. 1962. Midstream. Spring 1962, 59-62.

throughout his life as a good humored easy going person, considerate towards servants. He seems to have achieved a self satisfying lifestyle where the main occupation seems to have been the pursuance of beauty and love in all its forms. He erected for himself an opulent mansion in Vienna, amassing within it an exquisite collection of late eighteenth century Bijou trinkets, on which he was considered a world authority. Notwithstanding, he and his youngest brother Solomon Albert, gave enormous sums to Austrian charities, both Jewish and non-Jewish. Hospitals, Orphanages, schools, clinics for the Deaf, the instigation of the first Austrian workers pensions, and more, benefited from the brothers' attention. In addition Nathanial's abiding passion for all branches of horticulture was displayed in the way he presented the Austrian capital with the magnificent H o h e Warte Botanical gardens. Here he assembled plants and fruits from all over the world to enhance his gift. He engaged J o h n s o n an English gardener, who had previously been in the employ of his brother Ferdinand at Waddesdon Manor in England, 3 to manage the beautiful grounds. When became known that the gardener was missing his national Soccer game, Nathanial prompdy made arrangements for the first Austrian football team to be formed. Another sport in which Nathanial successfully indulged was the breeding and racing of horses, winning the Derby three times. He died a Batchelor, which was unusual in the family, on June 2 nd , 1905. Perhaps when his father, Anselm, head of the Vienna branch of Rothschilds' passed away on July 27 lh , 1874, firmly enjoining his children to continue in family harmony, 4 he suspected that this son would never marry. It was with some amazement that the Banking houses of Europe learned that the younger brother by eight years, Solomon Albert, (Salbert), was named to manage the Vienna branch, disregarding Nathanial although he was involved in the Bank's business and had successfully served on Boards and arranged loans for the Nobility. Presumably the second son, Ferdinand was passed over too because he was by then firmly established in England. In 1887, Franz Josef declared the Rothschilds, Hoffähig, or Courtworthy. This dispensation henceforth admitted them to all Royal family social occasions although unofficial contacts were going on, especially when loans were required by the Royal family. Previously, for some years, both Prinz Luis and Rothschild had been seen with the smart set, frequented by the Emperor's children, which possibly brought Rothschild initially into contact with Prinz Luis Salvador who was close to his cousin the liberal minded and gifted Crown Prince Rudolph, a headstrong young man, constandy at loggerheads with his autocratic father. The two young Habsburg cousins early on disregarded the Royal Edicts about the social non acceptance of Jews and engaged themselves in a Bohemian lifestyle within a circle that included Liberals, Socialists and even Hungarian revolutionaries, w h o were agitating for independence from Austria. Both Nathanial and Prince Luis were connected with the drama of the death to this heir to the Habsburg throne of Austria-Hungary in 1889, when the then thirty-one year old Rudolf and his mistress, Maria Vetsera, were 3 4

Rothschild, Mis. James de, 1979.TAf Rothschilds at Waddesdon Manor. London: Collins. Morton, F. 1962. The Rothschilds. New York: Ateneum, 220.

found dead at the Hunting Lodge of Mayerling, just outside Vienna. Numerous theories have been given since the tragedy, as to the reasons and scandals, many allied to treasonable links, that were about to unfold as the fatal act was done. Official bulletins were issued stating that the Prince had shot his lover and then himself. Prinz Luis's step brother, Ferdinand IV, Grand Duke of Tuscany, wrote to Prinz Luis important facts and theories about the deaths. 5 In later years it has been stated with documentary backing that it was the mistress w h o inidally shot the Crown Prince, and there may have been outside influences, but to date the complete events of the unhappy case have never totally come to public light, although it is more than possible that Prinz Luis and Rothschild were within the circle that ultimately knew the full details. Maria Vetsera, an exceptionally beautiful highly strung young woman, barely eighteen years of age at the time, had first been a paramour of Nathanial Rothschild, who it is reported passed her along to the Crown Prince, just a year before the suicide that was the culmination of a brief tempestuous affair. She was the daughter of a minor diplomat and an ambitious mother. It was Nathanial's brother Salbert, as Chairman of the Rail Telegraph Company, being first to hear of the tragedy, w h o broke the news of the ending of his only son's life to the Emperor. 6 Therefore, in this privileged situation, and in view of the fact that Salbert and Franz Josef became quite close friends, it was more than likely that the full facts were eventually leaked to Prinz Luis and Nathanial. In addition, Rudolph's mother, the beautiful Empress Elizabeth of Austria (known as Sissi in her own circle ) 7 was a close friend of Prinz Luis, frequently visiting him at his homes in Majorca and elsewhere as well as sailing with him on his yachts. 8 Prinz Luis and Nathanial Rothschild shared a great love of the sea, and visited, among other places, Palestine and America and even circumnavigated the Cape of G o o d Hope. Their vessels were fitted with the very latest amenities of speed and luxury. The prince bought and restored numerous beautiful homes on the island of Majorca which Rothschild frequendy visited. Indeed, over the years, as the lifestyle of Prinz Luis became more opulent and his constant acquisition of large country Estates increased, many wondered where all the money came from. We can now see from papers recendy discovered that possibly a considerable amount came from Rothschild. Prinz Luis's remarks about the Jews being on the nearby island of Ibiza was published in the first of his books in German, but deleted in the later Spanish editions, which appeared under the tide of Las Baleares in 1886, possibly out of deference for his aunt, the Spanish Empress Sophia, but the startling omission

5 6 7

8

March, J. 1983. SArxiduc. Palma de Majorca: Orlenata, 206-211. Cowles, V. 1973. Rothschild: A story of Wealth and Power. Weidenfeld and Nicholson, 272-275. The Empress was assassinated after spending her last day with her friend Salbert's sister Julie, at her Geneva lakeside mansion on September 9th. 1898. See Morton, F. 1962. The Rothschilds. N e w York: Ateneum, 213. Hamann, Β. und Hassman, Ε. 1998. Elizabeth—Stationen ihres Lebens. Wien-Munchen: Verlag Chrisdan Brandstatter. This book contains plans and maps of nearly all the known voyages of the Empress Elizabeth, but there can be litde doubt that because of her obsession with privacy and incognito visits some short ones are not documented.

was replaced and included in the republished volumes that re-appeared almost one hundred years later in 1982.9 The first transladon was done by the Spanish Vice-Consul in Berlin, D. Sandago de Palacios and the Prince's long standing friend, D. Francisco Manuel de los Herreros y Schwager, Director of the Instituto Balear, in Palma, an organizadon known to be very and-Jewish, like many other official bodies in Majorca at this period. 10 Herreros almost certainly would have advised the Prince to delete any mention of the Jews' lengthy residence in the nearby Island of Ibiza. Although not a large portion in relation to the total size of the book, the writings therein about the continuance of an Ibicenco Jewish Community reveal much that had then been hidden for 400 years, and are now proving of considerable use to researchers studying the hitherto unknown Jewish and Marrano history of the smaller Balearic Islands. Far less well known are the two books that Baron Nathanial published. We are fortunate in learning about how the Baron came to write these volumes because in 1924 there appeared a book entided Die Baron Rothschild: Jagden Reisen ("hunting tours"). The author was Erzahlt von Forstrat-Grukrainiz, who had been the administrator for twenty-five years of Rothschild's Hunting Lodge, and accompanied him, as did numerous other members of Nathanial's household on his frequent trips abroad. 11 Erzahlt like most of Rothschild's staff, showed throughout his writing deep respect and admiration for his master. He tells us that on an early visit to Prinz Luis's Majorcan estate, Miramare, Nathanial was presented with a copy of Die Balearan, and the author states that this pleased his employer so much that upon receiving it Rothschild decided to emulate his friend. So the decision was taken to collate and publish the material of the two cruises the Baron had taken in 1892 and 1893. The result was Skiqgen aus dem Süden (Sketchesfrom the South), published in 1894. The finished production was an opulent two volumes in heavy brown leather embossed in rich gold leaf, containing some fifty photos and forty three drawings of places visited. Nathanial, who, we are informed by von Grukrainiz, was a "passionate photographer," devoted much time and effort to the compilation of this travelog, aided in the text by his secretaries Baron August von Twickel and Carl Albrecht. Certainly the quality of the pictures, especially the indoor ones, taken in the Majorcan

9

10

11

Las Balears. Primera Parte. Las Antiguas Pitiuses. Published by Caja de Baléares Sa Nostra Palma 1982. Officially the Jewish Community of the Island of Majorca came to an end with the forced conversion of all its remaining Jews in 1435. More than half a century before the National expulsion. In the ensuing four hundred and fifty years, the Majorcans, many themselves of Jewish origin, never believed that the Jewish remnants that chose not to flee had become truly believing good Catholics. Terrible persecudon was metered out through the Inquisidon, who found many cases of continued Jewish practices. Even after its disbandment, heavy segregation of these descendents of Jews who became known as Chuetas continued. Until the 1960s no Priest would marry a Chueta with a non-Chueta. See Braunstein, Β. 1952. Chuetas of Majorca. New York: Ktav. Mound, G. 1998. "Jews In Places You Never Thought O f . " New York: Ktav 58-63: Idem. 1998. "Holy Day Ritual Amongst Marrano-Anusim Jews." Liturgy and Ritual in Islamic and judaic traditions Conference. Denver, Co: Univ. of Denver (due 1999). V o n Forstrat-Grukrainiz, Ε. 1924. Die Baron Rothschild Jagden Reisen. Munich: Verlag Für Kultueur Politik.

Caves of Drach, where there would have been so little light are exceptional considering the few photographic technical aides available at the end of the nineteenth century. This was an era when the Aristocracy and Royalty did not publicly show themselves to be interested in commercial ventures. A literary effort was therefore published purely for family and friends. Sixty copies were produced and today a specimen is rare. Surprisingly, the book is listed in a local Bibliography that was published in 1986 in Ibiza, 12 so it must have been known or mentioned there. Possibly a set was presented to one or more of the Wallis family, but if so the books have since disappeared. Certainly those that may have been presented in Royal circles of pre-1914 Europe could have been destroyed in the two World Wars and there are no known volumes today in the UK. The Rothschild Library in the University of Frankfurt is one of the few places that hold copies. Some of the hitherto unknown letters of Nathanial to Prinz Luis, while almost certainly not the full correspondence to the prince (and to date we have none from Prinz Luis to Rothschild) nevertheless throw light on their close relationship. For the most part it is not a pleasing collection, nor of the type one would expect from men constandy dealing with the management of world wide enterprises and enormous estates, evaluated as cosmopolitan and sophisticated individuals with an articulate and artistic bent. Disappointingly, in these private missives" Nathanial repeatedly writes with words of endearment in a tone of mawkish petty sentimentality. We find sentences filled with boring repetitive gratitude without in most cases saying for what he is grateful. O n e gets the tone of Nathanial's constant happiness of being with the Prince, but there are no profound phra es, only lame adjectives with constant reference to the Prince as his Kaiser. It is difficult to accept that the letters are written by a sixty year old man to another gentleman eleven years his junior. When compiling books Prinz Luis wrote his own notes, of which there are still many originals around. They are of a good literary style, seemingly without the aid of a secretary. With Rothschild, even though it is to another in his Mother tongue, the standard is not comparable and convince the reader that even if the photos of Rothschild's book were his personal work the text must have been assisted. We do not know when the attraction deepened or when the relationship between the two men took on a different dimension. Although Nathanial remained a Batchelor, we are aware that in his youth he had liaisons with a number of beautiful women. Descriptions are of him as being exceptionally fastidious and neat. O n the other hand Prinz Luis, is portrayed by his own people 14 as poorly dressed, often unwashed, preferring to wear the peasant sandals, alpargatas, even in places off the Islands, and sporting a sailors cap. So deplorable was his appearance in the eyes

12

13

14

Costa Ramon, A. 1986. Fitxes De Btbliografici Pitiusa. Eivissa: Imbosim, show these volumes known in Ibiza. In the authors library are the copies given by one of the Grandsons of Prinz Luis Salvador, and can be viewed by previous permission at the Institute For Marrano-Anusim Studies. G a n Yavneh. 70800. Israel. Schwendinger, H. 1992. Prin^Luis Salvador of Habsburg. Palma de Majorca.

of the Austro-Hungarian Diplomats stationed in Barcelona, that they were ashamed to walk with him in the street, although they felt obliged to do so. The prince would have preferred almost certainly to have walked alone, informing von Przibram, the Austrian Consul General, he wished to visit Incognito. Presumably this royal philanderer had the reputation for putting women in a compromising situation, as the Consul, who was married, emphatically registered in his book his outright refusal to the prince stay in his house for he was regarded as having scant respect for women and as being a "misogynist—a marriage hater." 15 Amazingly, these condemnations were published three years before the Prince died in 1915. We know that throughout his life Luis was constandy attracted to the fair sex and had many affairs, until well advanced in age, especially in Majorca. T o this day on the Island, can be seen the fruits of some of these relationships, some of whom were with women of Jewish origin and whose families still maintained Judaic practices, like not cooking on Saturdays. Within these families today, even after a gap of three or four generations the facial resemblance is intensely striking to their princely forbear. Without doubt from the recendy discovered correspondence one must conclude that there was a homosexual side to the Prince, which has been alluded to in the two biographies of him that appeared in 1983 and 199216 but in neither is there any intimation that there was an intimacy with Rothschild. Nathanial died ten years before Prinz Luis and we do not have details of his will. T o date only one paper has been found admitting that Rothschild gave Prinz Luis money. It was amongst the recendy discovered letters and is written as an invoice, showing a loan signed for by the Prince's long standing friend, D. Francisco Manuel de los Herreros, y Schwager. The amount mentioned is 53,000 Gulden, today's value being slighdy in excess of half a million dollars. The bill is dated February 5 th , 1892, just one month before Rothschild arrived in the Islands aboard his yacht the Aurora. This visit was announced in the local Ibiza Press of the time, 17 with what any student of the local Marrano Jewish history can only regard as ambiguous remarks in its closing sentence. The reporter comments that while the trip is for pleasure and taking photos, it is hoped that the visitors will find time to visit the salt works in Formentera. They were owned at this period by a Jewish Marrano family conducting the same trading operations in Ibiza, and were situated just outside Ibiza town, which was certainly much nearer and without the all too often rough sea crossing to Formentera. In addition the owners were cousins of the Wallis's. The importance of these remarks lies in the fact that the smaller Island organization, known as Anonomia S.A., was part of a large Estate also housing a building known as Can Marroig, which as far as we know has no connection to one of Prinz Luis's estates in Majorca of a similar name Son Marroig. The Formentera house was at

15

16

17

Ritter von Przibram, L. (Austro-Hungarian Consul General in Barcelona 1885-1889). 1912. Erinnerungen eines alten Österreichs—recollections of an old Austrian. Stutgart: Deutsche Verlagsanstalt. March, J. 1983. SArxiduc. Palma de Majorca: Orlenata. Schwendinger, H. 1992. Prin% Luis Sa/vador of Habsburg. Palma de Majorca. See Ibi^a (weekly newspaper) March 2 nd , 1892, and Diario de Majorca, March 17 th , 1893.

that time engaged as a crypto meeting place for those that wished to worship in the Jewish fashion, and had been such for many generations, bringing secret Jews by sea as visitors from Majorca and the mainland, and was to remain so until the Spanish Civil War of 1936.18 Certainly Nathanial could have received such information regarding the convening of Jews for prayer from his friends the Wallis's in Ibiza. From both the Rothschild photos taken in Ibiza and the text we can see that he indeed did visit the salt workers and the boats, and he alludes to the exceptional secretiveness and insularity of the Islanders, but there is no mention of actually meeting or visiting anybody from Can Marroig, or of any Jews in residence. He desisted from mentioning local names of any family at all except Wallis who was the Austrian Consul, with whom he stayed. One can only speculate if this was by accident or design? He may of course have deliberately refrained so that nobody should gossip afterwards about a local person's friendship with a known Jew. It can of course be understood why no publicity would have been given to Marrano practices. Indeed Prinz Luis may have later realized that revealing the information in his book about the Jews having been in Ibiza for a long time, was something the local secret Jews did not thank him for. These facts were only to emerge in the 1930s and even then discreedy, because the times were so dangerous; when Laurence George Bowman, the then newly retired Head-master of the Jews Free School in London visited Can Marroig in Formentera with some of his family in 1934 and 1935, and saw the continuance of Jewish practices there. 19 Briefly this is a list of the seventeen Rothschild letters /documents discovered: A letter of July 1894, Ref. 3, mentions the two men recendy visiting each other in Trieste. In Nov. 1894 Nathanial Rothschild sends thanks from Vienna for books the Prinz gave to him. In nearly all the letters found Nathanial addressed Prinz Luis with great endearment and called him Mj Kaiser as he did in this one. Ref. 5, Aug. 11 th , 1895: from Vienna to the Kaiser thanking him "Heartily" for the warmth of his reception at a meeting they had. The location is not specified. Ref. 6, Jan. 1896: a particularly unsophisticated communication with a repetition of Kaiser and thanks for help given, but bereft as so many of the other letters of any details as to what the "help "actually was. Ref. 7, March 25 th , 1896: from the yacht Veg/er, thanks again for help; this letter is one of the few preserved with an envelope. Ref. 8, April 1 st , 1897: Rothschild relates being yet again at Miramare in Majorca and is full of more thanks. A few days later (Ref. 9, April 19 th , 1897) there is word from Vienna again, as usual loaded with tones of gratitude, on this occasion for another recent holiday with the Prinz in Majorca. Somewhat mysteriously Rothschild alludes to "Thanks for all he gets from the Prinz," whereas it must be concluded that Rothschild gave money to his Royal companion. The source we can only conjuncture. Was it from Nathanial's private fortune or 18

19

Mound, G . Diario de Ibi^a, Dominical-Cultura. "Resumen de Can Marroig. Formentera 1969— 1998." 8 and 15 February, 1998. Idem, and M o u n d , G . "The Condidons of the Jews of Ibiza and Formentera, 1930-1960." Transactions of 7th. British Conference Judeo-Spanish Studies. Glasgow University: University Press Publicadon (due 1999).

from the Rothschild Bank coffers? If the latter, then there should have been some information in the Counting House ledgers. Yet no notice has come to light about demands for repayment to date. We can see that the meetings were quite frequent and there must have been opportunities in Vienna, but Ref. 10, Oct. 26 th , 1897, mentions Rothschild arranging to come again soon. As this letter arrived in Majorca, one must presume that it was to the Island that the visit was planned. It also mentions their enjoying being together on the boat recently. Another confirmation of the visits is the local press which usually announced the Rothschild's yacht arrival and departure. 20 In Ref. 11, March 17 th , 1898, we have yet another letter of appreciation from Rothschild, and plans for a further visit. Ref. 12, Mar. 22 nd , 1898: just a few days later he writes to the Prinz to say he was ill and in pain and consulting a Dr. Oppenheim. He was known to have always been very worried about his health and was often accused by his family of being a hypochondriac. With Ref. 14 of the correspondence, dated July 19th, 1898, Rothschild expresses from Vienna appreciation for a book sent by Prinz Luis on Napoleon Bonaparte. The recipient says it will add to the library on his yacht. Nathanial gready admired the Corsican; it being recorded that among his beaudful possessions was a greatly prized rosewood toilet box that the French Emperor left in his carriage when he fled from Waterloo. 21 This missive goes on to express delight in the pen-drawings within the volume. Finally Nathanial announces he is about to depart for Cherbourg, (possibly to visit his U.K. reladons, who we know also visited Prinz Luis in Majorca, leaving their calling cards, as did members of the Paris branch—all were found amongst this collecdon). 22 Some letters are undated and incomplete, specifying enjoyable trips to Salonika, Rhodes, Aswan (Egypt). There are obvious gaps in the letters and then correspondence dated close together, so there must be much missing. O n e must hope that in the not too distant future more information will surface about this unique relationship. 23

20 21

22 23

See La Republica, Palma de Mallorca, 14 and 22 March 1893. Las Batears. Primera Parte. Las Antiguas Pitiuses. Published by Caja de Baleares Sa Nostra. Palma 1982. See Alice Rothschild book as per no. 3. I would like to express my sincere appreciation for the interest and assistance I have been given since this research started in 1987, as follows: Mr. and Mrs. Elie Schallt of T h e Sampson Trust of the Schalit Family. The Rothschild Archives, London. In Frankfurt: The University, Rothschild Library and Jewish Museum. Dr. Rudolf Agstner, of the Diplomatic Corps of the Austrian Foreign Ministry, Vienna. D. Jacqueline Tobiass / D. Juan Albons, T h e Instituto de Relaciones Culturales Baleares-Israel, D. José Vives, of Majorca, w h o put his library and private knowledge at my disposal. The late Juan March, Son Galceran, Majorca. T h e Cilimingras Family at Son Moragues, Majorca.

Z U R ZENSURFRAGE DER J Ü D I S C H E N B Ü C H E R IN P O L E N IM 16. U N D 17. J A H R H U N D E R T KRZYSZTOF PILARCZYK Jagiellonian University, Poland

Im neuzeitlichen Polen schaffte seit dem 16. Jahrhundert seine ethnisch uneinheitliche Struktur in Verbindung mit seiner toleranten Politik eine günstige Grundlage für die gleichzeitige Entstehung auf diesem Gebiet der Druckereien der Kalvinisten, Lutheraner, Polnischen Brüder, Tschechischen Brüder, O r t h o doxen und Juden. Alle dort hergestellten Druckwerke unterlagen der Zensur der katholischen Kirche, die in Polen dominierte. 1. Grundsätzlich wurde jedoch dieser Pflicht, alle gedruckten jüdischen Bücher der Zensur zu unterziehen, seit G r ü n d u n g der hebräischen Druckereien in Polen in den dreißiger Jahren des 16. Jahrhunderts, die fast ausschließlich von J u d e n geführt wurden, nicht nachgegangen. Nicht so in Westeuropa, insbesondere im Kirchenstaat, in italienischen und deutschen Städten, w o die Zensur äußerst lästig wurde und manchmal den Juden untersagte, Druckereien zu führen oder in den bereits bestehenden im beträchtlichen Maße deren Verlagspläne beschränkte. Sie zielte vor allem auf den Talmud ab, der mehrmals, so wie im Mittelalter, zensiert, beschlagnahmt und sogar verbrannt wurde. 1 N a c h den heute bekannten historischen Quellen kam es in Polen im 16. und 17. Jahrhundert mit Unterstützung der königlichen Verwaltung nur wenige Male zum Eingriff der kirchlichen Zensur in hebräische Druckwerke aus jüdischen Druckereien (damals haben nur sie solche Schriften veröffentlicht). Aus diesen Quellen erfahren wir über ihre ersten Maßnahmen im Jahre 1539 gegen die jüdischen Drucker Schmuel, Ascher und Eljakim Halitsch, die in Kazimierz bei Krakau die erste jüdische Druckerei in Polen gegründet haben (1534—1540). Ihr Übertritt zum Katholizismus unter nicht näher bekannten Umständen ließ sie dank der Fürsprache der Königin Bona die besondere Betreuung des Königs Sigismund I 2 und des Krakauer Bischofs Piotr Gamrat genießen, führte jedoch gleichzeitig zum Boykott ihrer Druckerei durch die Juden. Infolgedessen mußte die Druckerei geschlossen werden. Der König, der dies nicht zulassen wollte, hat am 31. 12. 1539 den Erlaß veröffentlicht, demzufolge die jüdischen Gemeinden in Krakau, Posen und Lvov die in der Druckerei der getauften

Pilarczyk, K. 1998. Talmud i jego drukanç w Pierwsq!/ Rsçc%ypospolitej: ç d^jejow pnçkatçu rtligi/nego wjudai^mie. Krakôw: PAU, Kap. I. 4. Vgl. Krakôw, Archiwum Pansrwowe, Teutonicalia, Bd. 10, 453-456; Warszawa, Archiwum G l o w ne Akt Dawnych, Metryka koronna, Bd. 59, fol. 321b-324a; Berhson, M. 1910. Dyplomataryusζ do/ya^cy Zydöw w dawnej Police na šrédlach archiwalnych 0snuty. (1388-1782). Warszawa, S. 253, N o . 498; Ptašnik, J. 1924. " N o w e szczegôly d o drukarsrwa i ksiçgarstwa w Krakowie." Kwarta/nik Historynrny 37,1-2, 86-88.

Halitsch-Gebrüder veröffentlichen Bücher auszuverkaufen hatten. Dieser Urkunde läßt sich entnehmen, daß die jüdischen Bücher seit Beginn ihrer Veröffentlichung in Polen der kirchlichen Zensur unterlagen, die dem Bischof von der Kirche und dem Woiwoden als Vertreter der königlichen Gewalt übertragen wurde. Der jüdische Historiker Majer Balaban schließt daraus, daß dem Bischof die sachliche Kontrolle der Druckwerke gehörte, während der Woiwode als bracchium saeculare sie notfalls beschlagnahmte. 3 2. Die Verteilung der Zensurgewalt wurde 1569 offensichtlich, als der neue Drucker, Icchak ben Aaron aus Prosritz, der nach etwa 30 Jahren Stillstand eine jüdische Druckerei in Krakau eröffnete, zu Unrecht des Druckes des Talmud angeklagt wurde, obwohl er dafür das königliche Privileg besaß (vom 15. 10. 1568). Mit dem Dekret vom 2. 11. 15694 wurden ihm alle früher eingeräumten Rechte wieder entzogen und die Druckerei mußte schließen. D e m Beschluß lagen die Klagen piorum et doctorum virorum zugrunde. Diese Bezeichnung stammt offensichtlich von einigen Professoren der Krakauer Akademie—der Hochschule, der die Zensur für alle in Polen veröffentlichten Bücher übertragen wurde. Wir können vermuten, daß zu den aktivsten der Krakauer Kanoniker Jakub Görski (ca. 1525-1585) gehörte. Gegen Ende 1567 kehrte er aus seinem dreijährigen Bildungsurlaub in Italien (Padua, Rom, Genua) zurück, wo er den Titel eines Doktors sowohl des kirchlichen als auch des säkularen Rechts erworben hatte und nun Vorlesungen an der Philosophischen Fakultät der Akademie (1568-1571) hielt. 1569 veröffentlichte er eine lateinisch-polnische Broschüre, die einen lateinischen (Index errorum) und einen polnischen Titel {Oka^anie bi^dow) trug. 5 Somit wurde er zum Vertreter der antijüdischen Literatur, die in Polen immer mehr Anhänger fand. Er versuchte, in seinem Werk darzustellen, wie die Juden den Jesum Christum, Gottes Majestät und die Christen beleidigen und den Bibeltext fälschen, indem sie den Talmud verbreiten und studieren. Die Entscheidung des Königs erscheint insoweit unklar, als daß sie nur auf einen jüdischen Drucker in Kazimierz bei Krakau angewandt wurde, während in Lublin von 1559 bis 1576 die erste Auflage des Talmud gedruckt und allmählich verkauft wurde. Daraus könnte man schließen, daß dieses so extreme Vorgehen des Königs ausschließlich durch einige Geistliche aus der Krakauer Diözese beeinflußt war. Er wollte es auf die Hauptstadt einschränken, ohne es auf Lublin und das dort ansässige jüdische Druckzentrum auszudehnen. Die Bemühungen von Icchak ben Aaron, der anscheinend die UnterStützung vieler einflußreicher Mitglieder der örtlichen Judengemeinde fand, haben erst nach einem Jahr den erwarteten Erfolg gebracht. Am 15. 11. 1570 zog der König seine Verordnung vom 2. 11. 1569 zurück. 6 In seinem Brief an Ludwik Decius, den Krakauer Landeshauptmann (magnus procurator), hat der 3

4 5 6

Balaban, M. Orukarstwo ijdowskie w Polsce Χ\Ί w. In Pami(tnik Zja^du Naukowego im. ]ana Kocbanowskiego u> Krakowit 8 i 9 cvprwca 1930. Krakow, 111-112. Krakow, Archiwum Panstwowe. Inscriptiones castrenses cracovienses, Bd. 98, S. 1250 (oblata). Krakow 1569. Krakow, Archiwum Panstwowe, Inscriptiones castrenses cracovienses, Bd. 102, 316-317.

König dem "Isaak Italiener, J u d e n " (so wurde der Drucker aus dem O r t bei Krakau genannt) die Genehmigung gegeben, von nun an Bücher zu drucken, ausgenommen den Talmud und andere Bücher, die dem christlichen Glauben Schaden bringen. 7 Dabei ließ er dem Drucker alle vom Woiwoden Stanislaw Myszkowski beschlagnahmten Lettern umgehend zurückgeben. Die Ermitdungen haben nämlich ergeben—wie im Brief des Königs zu lesen ist—daß der Talmud nicht gedruckt wurde und "nicht einmal ein solcher Vorsatz entstanden sei," irgendwelche Bücher zu drucken, die dem christlichen Glauben schaden würden. Der König hat gleichzeitig angeordnet, der Landeshauptmann solle sich darum kümmern, daß das Recht auf Drucken und Verbreiten der hebräischen Bücher durch den jüdischen Drucker beachtet werde, damit es zu einer Situation wie im Herbst 1569 nie mehr kommen möge, und daß auch andere das Recht von Icchak ben Aaron beachten sollten. Infolge des Eingriffs der Zensur druckte Icchak ben Aaron Prosritz keine talmudischen Traktate bis Ende der siebziger Jahre des 16. Jahrhunderts. Nach den politischen Änderungen in Polen machte er sich an deren Druck, ohne dabei auf Widersprüche mancher Krakauer Geistlicher zu achten. Er wagte sogar, den Traktat Avoda %ara herauszugeben, der der Baseler Ausgabe des Talmud (1578-1581) beigelegt war und welchen der Baseler Drucker Froben aufgrund der Zensur nicht drucken durfte. Außer den einzelnen Traktaten wurden in seiner Druckerei in Krakau, die schon von zwei seiner Söhne und seinen Enkeln geführt wurde, in den Jahren 1602-1605 und 1616-1620 zwei weitere Auflagen des Babylonischen Talmuds und im Jahr 1609 der Palästinische Talmud gedruckt. 3. Das nächste Mal machte sich die Zensur in den dreißiger Jahren des 17. Jahrhunderts bemerkbar, als in Lublin die zweite Auflage des Talmud gedruckt wurde. Allem Anschein nach sah die Aufteilung der Zensorengewalt über die jüdischen Bücher und ihr Drucken auf den König und den Bischof etwas anders aus, als in den zwei oben beschriebenen Fällen. Einerseits wurden die Fragen der Kirchenzensur durch indices librorum prohibitorum geregelt, die durch zwei nachfolgende Krakauer Bischöfe, Bernard Maciejowski (in Krakau 1601-1605) und Marcin Szyszkowski (in Krakau 1617—1630) empfohlen wurden, unter deren Rechtsprechung derzeit Lublin lag, andererseits fällt in diesem Bereich die Aktivität des Königs auf, die im überlieferten Briefwechsel zwischen diesem auf der einen und dem Woiwoden und dem Bischof auf der anderen Seite sichtbar ist. So empfiehlt z.B. Bischof Maciejowski den Druckern, sich nach dem 1603 in Krakau veröffentlichten Index und dem von ihm verfaßten Vorwort zu richten.8 Dieser Index enthält in dem Teil, der den Titel "Observatio" trägt, einen Abschnitt über den Talmud und andere jüdische Bücher, der mit dem Titel " D e Talmud et aliis libris Hebraeorum" versehen war. 9 In den kirchlichen Vorschriften auf dem Gebiet des Krakauer Bistums galt Anfang des 17. Jahrhunderts das 7 8 9

Vgl. Juda, M. 1992. Pngwileje drukarskic w Polsce. Lublin, 87. Index librorum prohibitorum... Cracoviae, In Officina Andreae Petricouij, Anno Domini M.DCIII. Ibid., 49-50.

im Tridentium beschlossene Prinzip, demzufolge der Druck des Talmud verboten war, die Druckerlaubnis jedoch dennoch erteilt wurde, wenn im Titel das Wort "Talmud" nicht auftrat und aus dem Text alle Stellen gestrichen waren, die den christlichen Glauben beleidigen konnten bzw. gegen ihn gerichtet waren. Während die zweite Lubliner Auflage des Talmud gedruckt wurde, erschien nach Amtsantritt des Krakauer Bischofs Marcin Szyszkowski 1617 der nächste Index, diesmal mit einem Vorwort des neuen Krakauer Bischofs. 10 Er wiederholt die allgemeinen auf den Buchdruck bezogenen Grundsätze, somit auch, daß jedes Buch vor seinem Druck das Imprimatur der kirchlichen Gewalt (des Bischofs bzw. Inquisitors) einholen muß. 11 Der Index beinhaltet überdies einen Teil über den Druck des Talmud und nennt den Talmud im Verzeichnis der verbotenen Bücher. In dieser Hinsicht unterscheidet er sich in nichts von der Krakauer Indexausgabe von 1603.12 Es ist anzumerken, daß in diesem am Ende des Werkes befindlichen Verzeichnis "Auctorum librorvm haerericorvm & prohibitorvm 1617editum" Berachot, der erste talmudische Traktat in der zweiten, 1617 veröffendichten Lubliner Auflage nicht enthalten ist. Trotzdem verletzte das auf der Titelseite verwendete Wort "Talmud" die damals geltenden Vorschriften des Kirchenrechts. Die bei der Ausgabe des Talmud beschränkt angewandte Selbstzensur hat Zwi Kalonimos Jafe nicht vor der Strafe bewahrt, die König Sigismund III Wasa mit seinem Mandat 1628 ihm und seiner Druckerei für die Verletzung des geltenden Kirchenrechts auferlegte. Kraft des Mandates wurde der Druck und Verkauf von Büchern, insbesondere des Talmud verboten, was prakdsch die Stillegung der jüdischen Druckerei in Lublin bedeutete. Dieses königliche Mandat selbst kennen wir heute nicht mehr. Wir erfahren davon nur aus veröffentlichten Abschriften zweier Briefe. Der erste Brief ist ein Schreiben des Krakauer Bischofs Marcin Szyszkowski an König Sigismund III Wasa. 13 Der zweite Brief betrifft die Stillegung der Druckerei Zwi Kalonimos Jafes und die Beschlagnahme des Talmud. Das Schreiben stammt von dem Lubliner Woiwoden Mikolaj Olesnicki und ist an den König, Sigismund III Wasa gerichtet. 14 In der Jagelionen-Bibliothek in Krakau befindet sich ein Talmud-Band (Signatur: Teolog. 12174) mit drei in Venedig in der Druckerei von D. Bomberg gedruckten Traktaten: Masechet Schewuot (1521), Masechet Sanhédrin (1520) und Masechet Makkot (1520). Ich bin auf einen handgeschriebenen lateinischen Text über die Stillegung der jüdischen Druckerei in Lublin gestoßen, der im Nachsatz steht: A n n o Dni 1628 Mensi. Décembre M. Jacobus Vitellius, ex Mandato Illustriss. D o m . Martini Syßkowskij Episcopi Crac. Cancellarij Academiae revidebam Talmudum Judaeorum Lublini impressum. Versus an aliqui errores 10

11 12 13

14

Index Ubrorvm Prohibitorum... Cracoviae, In Officina Andreae Petricouij, S.R.M. Typogr., Anno D. 1617. Ibid., 6. Ibid., 53,182. Grabowski, A. 1849. "Nazwiska ksiçgarzy krakowskich, od pocz^tku XVI do polowy XVII wieku..." Biblioteka Warsqiwska 35, 3, 394-395. Bandtkie, J. S. 1826(1974). Historia drukarú w Krv/estwie Polskim... Krakow, Bd. 1, 354-356.

inopinantur contra religionem, et caput fidei nostre, deprehendi multos quos sub hoc tempus descripsi, et manifestavi Illustrisso. Eriam due contra pacris sunt ficiose cum erroribus precipue in Arba Mitoth, et Sanhédrin. Ubi de Messia agitur, videatur Ga1atinus de Arcanis fidei, et Sixtus Sinensis qui collegit ea quae possunt vitiosa in Hebriorum mendoso et mendari Thalmudo habui. Habitur ex Concilio Tridentino ripurgatus Thalmud a Marco. Idem qui supra. Brixiano Presbytero Canonico Regularium.

Anhand der drei vorstehenden Texte könnte man den Versuch wagen, den Ablauf der Ereignisse um Zwi Kalonimos Jafe, den jüdischen Drucker in Lublin, und die von ihm gedruckte zweite Auflage des Lubliner Talmuds zu rekonstruieren, auch wenn dies aus Mangel an ausführlicher Quellendokumentation nur ein lückenhafter Versuch sein kann. Die angeführten drei Urkunden werfen überdies ein neues Licht auf das Problem der Zensur der jüdischen Bücher in Polen. Es ist anzunehmen, daß der Druck der Traktate des Talmud in der Druckerei von Zwi Kalonimos Jafe im Jahre 1617 begonnen hat und im Sommer 1628 abgebrochen wurde. Was den König zur Vergabe dieses Auftrags bewog, war der gegen den Lubliner Drucker vorgebrachte Einwand, dieser habe zu dem Text des von ihm gedruckten Talmud Ergänzungen eingeführt und dadurch die früheren Zensurkorrekturen in anderen Talmud-Auflagen geändert. Der Bischof Szyszkowski, an den sich die Delegation der Juden zunächst mit Bitte um Hilfe und Fürsprache beim König gewandt hatte, ließ jedoch trotz Sympathie, die er der jüdischen Delegation zeigte, keinen Zweifel daran, d a ß wie er in seinem Brief an den König zum Ausdruck brachte-der Lubliner Drucker selber an seiner Lage schuld sei, da er sich nicht an das in der Krakauer Diözese geltende Kirchenrecht gehalten habe. Die neuesten Rechtsregelungen über die Zensur der Druckwerke waren—wie Bischof Szyszkowski schreibt—in der Konstitution der Krakauer Synode enthalten, die 1621 im Druck veröffentlicht wurde. 15 Die synodale Konstitution vom 10. Februar 1621 regelt in einem separaten, den Juden gewidmeten Kapitel (LXI) mit dem Titel " D e Iudaeis" die Rechtslage der von den Juden im Gebiet der Krakauer Diözese gedruckten Bücher. G e m ä ß der Konstitution durften die Juden keine Bücher und insbesondere nicht den Talmud drucken, wenn diese zuvor nicht überprüft und durch die vom Bischof berufenen Zensoren anerkannt wurden. Gleiches galt für Bücher, für die keine schriftliche Druckerlaubnis vergeben wurde. Der Lubliner Drucker hat jedoch die bei ihm gedruckten talmudischen Traktate und andere Bücher nicht der Zensur des Bischofs übergeben, die sie dahingehend überprüfen sollte, ob sie "gereinigt" sind. Zu seiner Entschuldigung brachte er vor, er habe diese synodale Konstitution nicht gekannt, und berief sich nur auf die Privilegien, die er von dem Vorgänger König Sigismud III Wasa für den Druck der jüdischen Bücher erhalten hatte, die von dem König bestätigt wurden, die jedoch keine Klausel enthielten, die den Druck des Talmud

15

Reformationes generale!... A. M.DC.XXI Petricouy Typogr. S. R. Ab.

die décima Februar. Crac. [1621]. In Officina Andrea

untersagt hätte. Daß der Drucker sich nicht beim Bischof um ein Imprimatur für den Werkdruck beworben hatte, begründete die jüdische Delegation mit in diesem Bereich aufrechterhaltenen Bräuchen, was der Wahrheit entsprach. Möglicherweise akzeptierte Bischof Szyszkowski schweigend diesen Brauch in Bezug auf die jüdischen Bücher, denn am Ende seines Briefes an den König schlug er eine mögliche Lösung für das Problem der Stillegung der jüdischen Druckerei in Lublin vor. Demnach sollten von ihm geistliche Zensoren berufen werden, so wie es die päpstlichen Urkunden und die Konstitution der Krakauer Synode vorsehen, um zu überprüfen, ob der gedruckte Talmud keine Blasphemien gegen Jesum Christum, die christliche Religion und die polnische Staatsräson enthält. Sollte nichts dergleichen festgestellt werden— so schlug der Bischof vor—so sollte man ihnen den Verkauf dieser Bücher genehmigen, die mit sehr hohen Auflagen verbunden waren. Er hat außerdem dazu geraten, der König möge selber seine Zensoren zur genauen Überprüfung der Traktate des Talmud ernennen. Diese Suggestion des Bischofs Szyszkowski macht klar, daß er keine Ansprüche auf alleinige Examination der gedruckten Bücher erhob, um dem König nur—wie M. Balaban bemerkt—die Vollstreckung zu überlassen in den Fällen, wo eine Beschlagnahmung der Bücher notwendig schien. 16 Nach dem Brief hatte auch der König Recht auf die Prüfung der in Polen veröffentlichten Druckwerke, unabhängig von der durch die kirchliche Zensur ausgeübten Kontrolle. Heute fehlen die Urkunden, die eindeutig überliefern würden, welches die Auswirkungen der Vergabe des königlichen Mandats, die jüdische Druckerei zu schließen und ihre Druckwerke zu beschlagnahmen, waren. F. H. Reusch behauptet, daß 1628 vom päpstlichen Nuntius in Polen das Verkaufsverbot der zweiten Auflage des Lubliner Talmud gefordert wurde. 17 Wußte Bischof Szyszkowski davon, dann würde sein Brief seine Sympathie für die Juden beweisen, die zudem von der von ihm bekannten rechtlichen Einstellung geprägt war, obwohl eine solche Haltung zu Spannungen zwischen ihm und dem päpstlichen Nuntius in Polen führen konnte, da sie gegen die Beschlüsse des Tridentinum war und von dem durch die nachfolgenden Päpste eingeschlagenen Weg abwich. Der Brief des Krakauer Bischofs konnte keineswegs die Juden, die bei ihm Hilfe suchten, zufriedenstellen. Die Juden, des ungünstigen Ablaufs der Sache bewußt, begaben sich etwa zwei Monate nach dem Besuch bei Bischof Szyszkowski zum Lubliner Woiwoden und suchten bei ihm Unterstützung vor dem König. Der Brief des Woiwoden Olesnicki vom 4. 11. 1628 an den König läßt schließen, daß die für Zwi Kalonimos Jafe eintretenden Juden dem Bischof ihre Bitte vorgetragen haben, indem sie insbesondere das Unrecht betonen, das dem Lubliner Drucker aufgrund der mit Beschlagnahme der Bücher verbundenen Verlust geschehen ist. Die Fürsprache des Lubliner Woiwoden beim König für die jüdische Druckerei in Lublin scheint den Erwartungen der Juden entgegenkommen zu 16 17

Bataban, ibid., 112. Popper, W. 1969. The Censorship of Hebrew Books. N e w York, 105.

sein. Der Woiwode schlug in erster Linie vor, von der strengen Strafe zurückzutreten, was der Bischof in seinem Brief nicht angedeutet hatte. Sigismund III Wasa hat dennoch den Vorschlag des Woiwoden nicht angenommen und anscheinend auch keine Zensoren zur Uberprüfung der Lubliner Auflage des Talmud berufen. Dagegen kannte Bischof Szyszkowski bereits im Dezember 1628 das Urteil des von ihm berufenen Zensoren, Priester Jakub Witeliusz, von dem allem Anschein nach der Vermerk im Band des Talmud aus der Jagellonen-Bibliothek stammt. Das Gutachten von Jakub Witeliusz (1587-1648), dem Professor der Krakauer Akademie, dem seit 1532 die Zensur in Polen übertragen wurde, genügte dem Krakauer Bischof als Grundlage für die endgültige Antwort auf die Bitten der Juden, die für Zwi Kalonimos Jafe aus Lublin eintraten. Uns ist jedoch leider weder die offizielle Antwort des Bischofs Szyszkowski an die Juden, noch die Fortsetzung seines darauf bezogenen Briefwechsels mit dem König bekannt. Dennoch erscheint uns seine Haltung angesichts der Ermitdungsergebnisse von Witeliusz eindeutig. E r muß wohl zu dem Schluß gekommen sein, daß, wenn die Bücher trotz Zusicherungen seitens der Juden, dennoch neue Inhalte, d.h. nicht von der kirchlichen Zensur zum Druck zugelassene Stellen aufweisen, sie nicht von den geistlichen Examinatoren anerkannt werden sollten. Das würde das auf dem Gebiet der Krakauer Diözese geltende kirchliche Recht verletzen, das in der synodalen Konstitution 1621 festgelegt wurde. Der Bischof meinte, daß keine anderen Argumente, auch die dem jüdischen Drucker verliehenen königlichen Privilegien, die den Druck und Verkauf hebräischer Bücher genehmigten, die Juden gegen die gegen sie gerichtete königliche Anweisung, die Bücher zu beschlagnahmen und die Druckerei zu schließen, rechtfertigen könnten. Einen Versuch, aus dieser mißlichen Situation herauszukommen, die nach Schließung der Lubliner Druckerei im Jahre 1628 entstanden war, bildete die Erklärung durch die Juden von 1631 zur Bestimmung über den Bücherdruck, insbesondere des Talmud, hier Mischna und Gemara genannt. Wir haben keine genaue Angaben, wo sie durch die Vertreter der jüdischen Gemeinden in Polen angenommen wurde. Wahrscheinlich geschah dies auf einer der Tagungen der jüdischen Sebstverwaltungsbehörde Waad Arba Aracot in Lublin. 18 Durch diese Bestimmung wurde versucht, die Grundsätze der Selbstzensur festzulegen, an die sich die jüdischen Drucker in Polen bei Veröffentlichung der talmudischen Traktate halten sollten. In den zwischen 1617 und 1628 in Lublin gedruckten Traktaten wurde die teilweise Rekonstruktion des zensierten Textes der Baseler Auflage vorgenommen, die dem Lubliner Drucker als Grundlage diente. Mit diesem Vorhaben, in der zweiten Lubliner Auflage den ursprünglichen Text des Talmuds wiederherzustellen, war die Befürchtung der Beschlagnahme der Auflage und Stillegung der Druckerei verbunden, die sich später als begründet erwiesen, obwohl die früheren Editionen der Traktate den Lubliner Drucker und seine Partner zu diesem gewagten Schritt anregen

18

Chiarini, L. A. 1830. Théorie du Judaisme. Paris, 1, 161-163.

konnten: die Krakauer von 1602-1605 und 1616-1620 und Lubliner von 15591577. Die Bestimmung von 1631 läßt uns anders als R. N. N. Rabbinovicz, der diese Fesdegung wohl nicht gekannt hat (er führt sie nie an), die Gründe erahnen, warum Zwi Kalonimos Jafe den Baseler Text als Grundlage seiner Auflage wählte. Wahrscheinlich wollte er die kirchliche Gewalt in Polen mit dem angesichts der kirchlichen Normen allzu freien Abdruck des Textes des Talmud (unzensierte Ausgabe) nicht provozieren, was den Eingriff des Königs und Bischofs verursachen und zu Repressionen gegen die jüdischen Gemeinden führen konnte, wie es schon früher in Italien der Fall war. Die Lage der jüdischen Drucker in Polen war trotzdem bedeutend besser als in jüdischen Zentren W e s t - und Südeuropas. Sie konnten im Druck des Talmud seinen ursprünglichen Namen auf den Titelseiten verwenden, mißachteten teilweise die Eingriffe der kirchlichen Zensur und gaben talmudische Traktate wie Avoda %ara, die in anderen europäischen Zentren nicht gedruckt werden durften, heraus. Demnach sollten die Juden in Polen mehr Freiheit haben, die sie zu nutzen wußten. Es waren jedoch keine rechtlich gesicherten Freiheiten. Im Grunde genommen galt hier dasselbe Recht, insbesondere das Kirchenrecht, wie in der ganzen Kirche, seine Vollstreckung sah jedoch in Polen anders aus als in anderen europäischen Ländern. Deshalb lebten die Juden in ständiger Furcht, daß sich die Vorgehensweise gegenüber ihnen ändern und die bisherigen Freiheiten, wie der Druck des Talmud in der nicht völlig zensierten Fassung sich in die Repressionen gegen alle jüdischen Gemeinden in Polen verwandeln könne. Es ist aber zu vermuten, daß auch bei diesem Versuch, die Druckerei wieder ins Leben zu rufen, indem den Druckern die Selbstzensurpflicht auferlegt wurde, der Erfolg ausblieb. Erst 1633, als nach dem Tod des Königs Sigismund III Wasa sein Sohn Wladislaus IV auf den Thron sdeg, und alle durch seine Vorgänger vergebenen Privilegien bestädgte, nahm die jüdische Druckerei in Lublin ihre Tätigkeit wieder auf. Keine uns überlieferten historischen Quellen teilen uns spätere Eingriffe der Zensur in die Tätigkeit der Lubliner wie auch der Krakauer Druckerei mit.

RABBI N O R M A N G E R S T E N F E L D ' S C R U S A D E AGAINST Z I O N I S M , 1 9 3 5 - 1 9 4 8 MARC LEE RAPHAEL T h e College of William and Mary, USA

In the spring of 1935, the leaders of Washington H e b r e w Congregation, one of the nation's largest Reform congregations, decided that the senior rabbi, 63 and ailing, needed an assistant. T h e president of T h e H e b r e w Union College, the Reform Jewish seminary, recommended a summer replacement while Rabbi A b r a m Simon tried to recover f r o m encephalitis with a two-month vacation. T h e board of managers hired Rabbi N o r m a n Gerstenfeld, without consulting Rabbi Simon, and, ironically, Gerstenfeld was at the time the Leo Simon Fellow in Jewish Philosophy, a travelling fellowship endowed at T h e H U C by Carrie and A b r a m Simon when their son, Leo, died suddenly. Gerstenfeld, however, felt no loyalty to Simon. In fact, he quickly felt himself more qualified than the senior rabbi to head the congregation. Gerstenfeld worked extremely hard: his first weekend included a radio sermon, a Temple sermon, 12 visitations, a Confirmation dinner dance, and visits to classes in the Sunday School. At the end of the summer, the board recommended hiring Rabbi Gerstenfeld for two years as Rabbi Simon's assistant; he would serve the congregation until his death more than three decades later, assuming the posidon of Senior Rabbi u p o n the death of Rabbi Simon in 1938. Rabbi Gerstenfeld immediately took control of the school and the youth group, keeping Rabbi Simon away f r o m both and building a strong base of support; he introduced the popular National Temple F o r u m which he controlled; the board gave him the secretary he demanded although Rabbi Simon had never had one; and he seemed to attract people, in contrast to the continuing problem of Rabbi Simon having lost his public speaking appeal. As the editor of The Tempie News noted during Rabbi Gerstenfeld's first summer in Washington: "he is young and brilliant, but modest, a learned Jewish student of the new school, with a charming personality, w h o had endeared himself at the [country] club." Rabbi Simon was an aging and ill senior rabbi holding on to his position tenuously, while Rabbi Gerstenfeld seemed to be the star of the future. By the spring of 1937 the president informed Rabbi Gerstenfeld that the board was prepared to offer him a new contract at $5,000 the first year and $6,000 the second year, whereas Rabbi Simon, with nearly 35 years of service to the congregation, would receive $9,000, less still than his salary a few years earlier. All of this made Rabbi Simon difficult to work with; the board simply called it the "situation confronting the congregation." Born into a deeply observant O r t h o d o x family in Croydon, England, in 1904, N o r m a n and his three siblings came to American in 1917 when his father, Rabbi Samuel (1872-1958), a Talmudist, was offered a teaching position at the

Rabbi Isaac Elhanan Theological Seminary in New York. After taking his baccalaureate degree at the City College of N e w York (1923), he worked in the field of Jewish communal service before entering The H U C in 1928. After five years of study in Cincinnau, as well as several summers of courses at the University of Chicago Divinity School (1929-31 and 1933), N o r m a n Gerstenfeld was ordained a rabbi. While still an assistant, Rabbi Gerstenfeld began to build a following of nonZionists and and-Zionists in the congregation. In a letter to a congregant in June of 1936, he pronounced himself in "complete accord" with those who attack the "nationalistic concept of Judaism." In a letter of July, 1938, which typifies his rich prose, he bemoaned the pace with which he and his followers were confronting those in the congregation determined to "seduce the membership" into promoting Zionism: Let's move faster. If we keep moving as we do we should call ourselves the Hans Castorp benevolent organization or the Chassidic seniles. Why all this prelude to a preface to a prolegomena to an introduction to action? Why the analysis that ends in paralysis so that all our ideas become luftmensch persiflage and, to be rather gende in the romantic tradition, we become, as Arnold once said of Shelley, "ineffectual angels beating in the void luminous wings in vain." We want a group to prevent the growth of subversive Zionism.

A year or so earlier, Rabbi Gerstenfeld began talking about organizing the nonZionist and anti-Zionist rabbis of America ("a small group of influential, independent, keen young men,") and one of his strategies was to initiate a radio show from the temple on Sunday mornings with "only hand-picked, nonZionist preachers." He had no doubt that the funding would be forthcoming from sympathetic congregants. He probably had the president in mind, for he had identified "a group of men, members of the board of our temple, the key men in the charity of our community, who are all non-Zionists, and wish to crystallize in our community a militant non-Nationalist Jewish unit." The president noted, in addition, the moving spirit behind the group: "our young rabbi, N o r m a n Gerstenfeld, who is a clear cut non-Nationalist." But Gerstenfeld still had not determined his precise mode of battling Zionism; he wondered if it might be better "not to talk a n d — o r non—Zionism but to identify himself with the Jewish tribalists [=Zionists] completely, then bore from within." His efforts to form a group of non-Zionist and anti-Zionist rabbis was joined by others, and Rabbi Gerstenfeld, together with 89 Reform rabbis, issued a "Statement of Principles by Non-Zionist Rabbis" in August of 1942. Convening in Adantic City in June, they had composed this declaration of opposition to political Zionism, and published it in the form of a small pamphlet. Rabbi Gerstenfeld had worked hard, primarily through correspondence but also some out-of-town meetings, to make sure this group emerged, and he delivered numerous lectures in Washington articulating his and his colleagues' philosophy. Never an anti-Zionist himself, as he had visited Palestine and supported the economic, cultural and spiritual efforts of the Jewish community there and clearly included himself when he would say that "Palestine is dear to the Jewish

soul," he was a fierce opponent of a Jewish state, a Jewish flag, and a Jewish army. The rabbi had two fundamental objections to a Jewish state, and he repeated these, in varying forms, in sermons, letters and addresses. First, he could not understand how the Jews imagined they could "create a Jewish state in a land where the large majority of the population is not Jewish." He argued, with a barrage of statistics and analyses drawn from wide reading in the history, politics, economics and sociology of the Middle East, that a Jewish state in Palestine with the current population division (the Jews constituted about 30 percent of Palestine during World War II) would be a military "disaster," and that a Jewish state in Palestine with a Jewish majority (and thus a displaced Arab population) would be a moral "calamity." And second, he worried that "a nationalist position segregates the Jewish people and jeopardizes the fate of the Jews in America,"so that the "non-Jewish community thinks of the House of Israel as a racial or a cultural minority with a separate 'civilization' in this land." T o support this argument, he would usually predict that the considerable American antisemitism of the 1930s would only increase if the Jews articulated a theory of themselves as a "nationality" rather than a "people." He felt that bigots in America would transfer the concept of a "Jewish nation," articulated by Zionists, from Europe and Palestine to America, and use this as a formidable weapon against the American Jewish community in times of crisis or even insecurity. At the end of 1942, when the provisional chair announced the establishment in Philadelphia of the American Council for Judaism, Rabbi Gerstenfeld, together with 16 Reform rabbis, became a member of the executive committee. This organization sought to define the Jew as a member of a religious community, and nothing else, and took note of the threat political Zionism posed to the security of Jews in America. The first director, Rabbi Elmer Berger (19081996), thanked Rabbi Gerstenfeld for his "strong voice," and Gerstenfeld responded with many suggestions for making the ACJ a more effective organization. At home, the rabbi worked hard to "build up congregational loyalty, to create greater interest among our members, [and to] destroy the virtual monopoly the Zionists now have in the Anglo-Jewish press." Never afraid to speak out for his position, his sermons, lectures, bulletin editorials, radio addresses, forums, and conversations attempted to "sweep the indifferent and the confused of the congregation into our orbit of thinking." If he succeeded, he would "build an impregnable bastion of our position in the capital of the world." He had much success in these efforts against Zionists, or what he called "batwinged, midget reactionaries." He did not exaggerate when he claimed that he had "been preaching the dangers of Jewish nationalism from the first day I came to Washington, even when as assistant I was in a most vulnerable position." Although the "richest member of my Temple [Edmund I. Kaufmann] became head of the Zionist Organization of America," he fearlessly "preached against Zionism even on Y o m Kippur eve." It was, as he frequendy noted, a "batde," and he claimed great success among his congregants, boasting to a non-Zionist

rabbinic colleague in Baltimore that "all of them—except for a tiny fraction— are non-Zionists." If so, it seems doubtful that they were converted by many of Gerstenfeld's sermons, as he noted in the same letter that "they have no religious discipline of worship, that Judaism means very little to them, and that I do not see them from one high holiday to another." Rabbi Gerstenfeld's radio addresses provided him with the opportunity to reach the largest number of people, and he enjoyed much fame with this medium. In 1944, he claimed that his radio preaching had yielded 40,000 letters of support "in the last years"; in 1945 he boasted that two out of three radio listeners tuned in his weekly address on Friday evening at 10:30; and in 1946 he insisted that he had two million listeners weekly. That same year, Gerstenfeld told a colleague that a series of five radio addresses "had been instrumental in achieving virtual unanimity in the Senate Foreign Affairs [sic] Committee on the Palestine resolution." and that "every member of the Foreign Relations Committee heard" his broadcasts. There is no denying that week after week he delivered addresses which are masterpieces of rhetoric, filled with rhapsodic prose and considerable political acumen. He followed developments in England and the Middle East with much care, and presented learned discussions about the Royal Commission Reports (1937) and the Anglo-American Committee of Inquiry (1946), among many topics. When he spoke about Zionism, he would insist that it offered a form of Judaism repugnant to the Protestant majority of America, compromised the Protestant good-will towards the Jews, suggested that Jews are a nation and thus essentially foreigners and not wholly a part of their country's people, and threatened to "decitinize" the members of Washington Hebrew Congregation in the eyes of their fellow Americans. Rabbi Gerstenfeld would even go so far as to claim that he entered the Reform rabbinate because of his "belief that Zionism was the false messiah of modern Jewry," and that he came to Washington to "prevent Jewish Nationalism from becoming the voice of and the guide of American Jewry." T o this end he certainly dedicated the first decade (1938-48) of his solo rabbinate. In 1945 and again in 1946 Gerstenfeld spoke frequendy on the origins of Zionism, noting that Zionism "was cursed from the very beginning by the frustrated East-European intelligentsia" and its "luftmensch philosophy." He described the early Zionists as "shouting shlemiels" w h o would have succeeded in rescuing millions of European Jews if they had presented a simple colonization or refugee plan rather than a program of statehood. For Chaim Weizmann he had the most scorn; his "schnorrer weakness at every step" appeased the British and made the Balfour Declaration "a scrap of paper." The result? A Palestinian Jewish community "headed for bankruptcy and murder" unless the nonZionists come to the rescue. And the efforts of non-Zionists will not only help the Jews of Palestine but those in America as well, for "if we desert these Jews they will go down in a blood bath that will encourage attacks upon Jews everywhere." And likewise, if non-Zionists help the "survivors of the old world who are praying to flee to Palestine even as did the Pilgrims" become Jews in Pales-

tine, they will not only make these immigrants stronger and more secure, they will "bring blessing to all Jews." Such thinking lay behind the decision of Gerstenfeld and other non-Zionists to unite with Zionists in an effort to get the displaced Jews out of Europe and setde them in Palestine, although the non-Zionists took care to stress they would not colonize "one foot of Arab land," and that their support of Jewish immigration to Palestine did not mean support for a Jewish state. Gerstenfeld continued to oppose Zionism in 1945, 1946 and 1947 because he thought its concept of Jewish nationalism a false view of the past and a defeatist view of the future, and its conception of Jewish statehood a dangerous program for Jewish survival in Palestine and a threat to the security of the Jews in America. He never wavered from his militant addresses in which he demanded that the gates of Palestine be kept open for the "homeless of Israel," and launched unrelenting attacks on the British in these years. But Zionism he abhorred. Even on the eve of Jewish statehood (6 May 1948), the rabbi was unrepentant, as he helped organize (but did not attend) an anti-Zionist rally under the sponsorship of the Washington chapter of the American Council for Judaism and presented the leading anti-Zionist rabbis in America. Gerstenfeld, the non-Zionist, chose to attend the rally at Constitution Hall where Moshe Shertok, head of the political department of the Jewish Agency, spoke to an overflow crowd. In 1947 and 1948 perhaps the best label for the rabbi would be his term, an "unlabeled J e w " whose heart bled for the children of an ancient faith and who demanded in the name of humanity a sound setdement for his desperate people. O n the one hand, the American Council for Judaism, so he claimed in 1945, was "started at my house," and several months after the birth of the State of Israel, on Y o m Kippur eve, he told the huge crowd at Constitution Hall in Washington D. C. that "I share all the principles [of] my friends of the [American] Council for Judaism." He refused to share a platform with his rabbinical colleague and Zionist leader, Stephen S. Wise, calling him a "false Messiah." O n the other, he consistendy attacked the British for steadily "whittling away" and "completely distorting" the Mandate from the League of Nations, and blasted the AngloAmerican Committee of Inquiry recommendations as too weak and as "diplomalic confusions and evasions," convinced that the British, in bed with the Arabs, would never agree with the committee's unanimous plea to the British to permit 100,000 Jewish refugees to enter Palestine despite Arab opposition. He seems to have favored a bi-national state with Jews and Arabs equal political partners, but whatever his own preference (other than a Jewish state) he vigorously supported the United Nations partition resolution of November 1947, for he would affirm a Jewish state side-by-side with an Arab state. Gerstenfeld's strong attacks on political Zionism, as well as his delegation of the pastoral responsibilities in the congregation to an aging assistant, made him many enemies. A congregant and local Zionist leader noted that "Gerstenfeld has worked miracles in this congregation and community" but "he is not only a non- but an anti-Zionist" and thus "we have no alternative except to destroy him." His enemies, by 1948, accounted for a sizeable minority of synagogue members, and they found an issue on which to unite in the spring of 1948 when

Gerstenfeld's stubborn non-Zionism, in the face of an emerging Jewish state, Israel, coalesced the opposidon. In addidon, a proposed contract extension and salary raise provided a tangible issue over which to express their hostility, and they voted, at a raucous congregadonal meeting, to deny him a multi-year contract renewal and to give him no raise. He survived, albeit battered, what he would later that same year (October) describe as a "slander incited m o b scene before the pulpit where I have served for fourteen years," by a "hostile minority," and the trauma would change him permanendy. He would renounce his non-Zionism and become a fervent supporter of the new state. The rabbi became a public champion of Israel. He still thought the Zionists to have the "power of the lunatic fringe," but he would communicate such thoughts only in private, and his radio addresses and sermons expanded declarations such as this national radio broadcast on 12 May 1949: "As an American I felt so happy last night at Constitution Hall when I took part with fellow citizens of every creed in the salute to new State of Israel." In the 1950s, a chastened Gerstenfeld, would use his radio microphone and pulpit to continually salute the new state. 1

All quotations come from T h e N o r m a n Gerstenfeld Papers, Washington Hebrew Congregation, Washington D.C. The papers are well-indexed and open to the public.

SETTING THE TABLE M E A L S AS J E W I S H S O C I O - C U L T U R A L PRAXIS IN LATE M O D E R N I T Y KAREN LISA GOLDSCHMIDT SALAMON Copenhagen Business School, Denmark

Abstract T h e article argues that food and meals remain some of the most powerful instances for the negotiation, transmission, reproduction and demarcation of Jewishness today. As in the talmudic tradition we find a particular self-re flexivity in this late-modern form of what the author terms a secular rituality. However this contemporary rituality differs radically from rabbinical rituality as it apparendy lacks univocal and translatable meanings or signifieds.

"Amen!" This text is about meals. But it is also about identity and meaning. I will try briefly to portray Jewishness today through a discussion of food and meals. Jewish food and meals. All human meals, anywhere in the world, are social occasions. They imply specific manners and constitute the most important daily rendezvous of families, alliances, friends and colleagues (Marenco 1995). All human meals which are shared by many people furnish occasions for informal negotiations, for displays of influence and power and for the strengthening of social ties, collective identities and personal positionings. People w h o dine together continuously develop and enact shared symbolic universes and forms of practice. Some of these are short-lived and others more stable. T h e food substances, table-props and the rules for how to handle these are more or less specific symbolic referents in this scenario. Jewish meals have all of this in c o m m o n with other meals. However, Jewish meals stand out as being closely interwoven with, and, in practice, as continuously commenting on one grand, central, historical and moral narrative. T h e most commonly known example of this is the seder pesacb, here in an 1845 literary version by the Danish-Jewish author Meir Aron Goldschmidt: 1 T h e frugal meal was brought in—for in contrast to other feasts plain dishes are eaten on this night. As on this night the forefathers partook of the last 1

The text, which is from a novel, is one of the first accounts in Danish of what was then contemporary Jewish life in Denmark, seen from a Jewish perspective and given a literary form. M. A. Goldschmidt (1819-1887) w h o is recognised as one of the most important Danish writers of the 19lh century, was a public figure of his time, often attacked for his very strong satirical criticism of the absolute monarchy. H e is also known for disputes with Soren Kierkegaard.

rapidly prepared meal in the land of Egypt, dressed for travel and in fear. And one entertained oneself with recalling all the wonderful deeds, by which G o d in those days had favoured the Jews. (Goldschmidt 1962/1845)

As an illustration of those cultural changes I wish to discuss here, I will now contrast this literary and ideal depiction of a traditional sedermeal with its latemodern version as recounted to me by one of its participants. A hundred and fifty years after Goldschmidt's description was written, an American Jewish family living in France was invited to celebrate a sederpesach with Canadian Jewish acquaintances in Paris. It had been years since they had last been present at a seder-meal and they accepted the invitation with happy anticipation. At the day they arrived early, so the children could play together. All afternoon the adults communally prepared the many traditional Ashkenasi dishes—gefillte fisch, matyp kneidlach and so on. As twilight fell they all gathered around the pretty table, all filled the first cup of wine and rose. The father of the house then exclaimed "Amen!" All joined him in the toast, after which they sat down and savoured all the traditional dishes of the seder with no further ado. Something clearly had happened to the festive meal during the years between Goldschmidt's seder in early 19th century provincial Denmark and the Paris seder-night of 1996. I will discuss certain aspects of this transformation towards what I call a secular rituality.2 Goldschmidt's seder was an institutionalised, structured social event representing very specific rules and rituals linked to historical, metaphysical and moral narratives. The 1996 seder seems to have been a fluidly structured and condensed situation of sociality and affect, possibly with some displaced or detached signification. The lengthy, communal preparation of the traditional foods seems to have been a conscious enactment of Jewishness—a secular ritual replacing the specific and prescribed rituals of the Haggadah. The singular "Amen!" was a moment of "instant rituality" in a context and time when most traditional Jewish rituals had otherwise disappeared from the lives of a majority of Jews.

Traditional Jewish meals as elements in one grand narrative Traditional Jewish meals are characterised by an institutionalised, structured, direcdy significatory representativity. They make reference to specific, textually rooted rules and rituals and to historical, metaphysical and moral narratives. Furthermore, in the rabbinical tradition there seems to be a self-reflexive consciousness of the constructed and symbolic role of food and meals. Examples of this are the Haggadah of the Seder and the early fourth century commentaries of Rabbi Nahmani bar Kaylil Abbaye 3 in the Babylonian Talmud on the practices

2

3

By rituality I mean a particular practice of rituals. A ritual is here defined as a stylised, repeduve, patterned form of collecdve practice evoking meaning or the idea of a possible meaningfulness, but not necessarily direcdy or univocally signifying any pardcular figures of meaning. Rituals can be carried out by individuals in solitude, but will then always symbolically invoke some kind of collecdvity. 2 7 8 - 3 3 8 Chrisdan time. Mirdal & Siesby 1992 drew my attendon to this.

of the Kosh Ha-Shanah meal. In these texts it is explicitly and self-reflexively discussed that food-items and table-scenes are symbolically and socially meaningful as signifiers of abstract ideas and values. Obviously, meals and the consumption of food are not the only significatory practices in rabbinical Judaism, where basic human needs are made part of a grand narrative and thereby reproduce cosmology. Judaism is characterised by its attempts to read relatively stable and specific signification into all of human behaviour (thus, supposedly, making human existence more holy and bringing humans closer to the Divine). As is the case in other traditions, especially those human actions which imply transgressing the culturally established borders between "self " / b o d y and "world"/other are viewed as potentially dangerous and disintegrative. They are thus heavily regulated, shrouded in added symbolic meaning and reshaped by ritual regulations. 4 In Jewish tradition the integratory act of eating stands out as being such a transgressive act par excellence. When eating, we consume·, we take in and thereby integrate something belonging to the outside world into our bodies. Most traditional Jewish meals are still set in gentile surroundings. In this context the meals act out, re-produce and negotiate the boundaries between the Jewish and the non-Jewish realms of substances, pracdees and signification. N o t only what and how we eat together is of importance here. What we do not eat and the ways in which we do not eat are of equal—if implicit—importance, such as is the case of the particular symbolic meaningfulness of pork. 5 In the traditional Jewish meal-culture(s) the stricdy regulated bodily praxis signified specific referents in the grand narrative of Talmudic Judaism. 6 Those who had a meal together enacted Judaism. They reproduced the tradition and themselves as Jews by doing this (Salamon 1996). Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz illustrates this point vividly, showing how the dining-table of each Jewish home represents the altar of the Temple and even can be said to have actually become an alter in itself: When the Temple still existed, the altar atoned for his sins, whereas after the destruction each man's table atoned for him. (Steinsaltz 1976)

4

5

6

T o exemplify this point, I will just remind you of the specific ritual ways of dealing with sexual acdvides, bleeding and various uncontrollable organic substances such as hair which play an important role in Judaism, but which are also found in other cultures (Busch 1994; Douglas 1966; Knudsen 1988). The swine has acquired a particular place as a symbol of reference in Jewish-gentile interaction. In gentile discourse Jewishness has often been constructed with references to pork and swine, such as in the Spanish use of the word "marranof (meaning "swine") as a synonym for the forcibly baptised Jews during the Inquisition. Simultaneously the interdiction to eat pork has acquired a particular place as a "primordial taboo" amongst modern Jews and is often the last prohibition of the Law to be transgressed by Jews assimilating into Christian society (Cooper 1993; FabreVassas 1997; Scaraffia 1995). Writing in the past tense does not signify here that this traditional meal-culture has disappeared. However, it is quesdonable if even the most traditional and orthodox practising Jews can avoid some kind of post-modern, second order self-reflexivity and self-analysis when practising the traditions today. This is possibly indicated by the use of past tense in the quotes below. I can not discuss this matter further here, but it certainly deserves closer scrutiny.

British Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks can add to this illustration with a description of his image of the traditional Jewish family-meals: And it was when parents and children sat together round the table, that they could most immediately feel the touch of the Divine presence. (Sacks 1991)

Traditional festival-meals were enactments of social alliances. The c o m m o n rituality invoked the alliances and the shared sociability of the immediate group coming together for the meal. It also invoked the symbolic alliances between those sitting at the table and the entire Jewish people in past, present and future, as well the covenant-alliance with the Divine presence.

Self-reflexivity and the detachment of significatory values Thus traditional Jewish meals play a significant role in evoking a sense of community, re-producing identities and social distinctions. They also discipline fundamental human needs into something "holy" and commemorate the covenant with God. H o w do these characteristics correspond to those of contemporary Jewish meals such as the Paris seder of 1996? I will leave out the difficult issue of what would even qualify as a Jewish meal today, but will assume that such an institution still exists, in some form, even outside of orthodox milieux. It is most obvious in the case of meals associated with the Jewish holidays, but also at occasions when particular people meet, and for contexts that the participants perceive as Jewish in some sense. Food and meals remain among the most powerful instances for the negotiation, transmission, reproduction and demarcation of Jewishness today. As in the talmudic tradition we find a particular selfreflexivity in this late-modern form of secular rituality. But it is a rituality which differs radically from the rabbinical rituality of traditional meals, as it apparendy lacks univocal and translatable meanings or signifies. J o Benkow, the former Norwegian president and first Jew ever to be elected to the Norwegian national parliament, describes in his autobiography how during the 1930s he grew up in the only Jewish family in a neighbourhood which knew nothing about Jews or Judaism. The family felt pressured to assimilate into the main-stream Norwegian culture. Jewish ritual life, which Benkow's father was supposed to direct and pass on to him, seemed weak and inauthentic to the boy, as he sensed that the father didn't seem to believe in much of what he said or did himself. The father "muttered his ritual prayers in a corner [...] ratherfor the sake of appearance than to praise the Lord. " However, the preparations of the traditional foods which the mother took care of were "more genuinely heartfelt" and supplied all the atmosphere of the Jewish holidays (Benkow 1985: 76, my translation). The food-culture appeared strong and authentic to the boy and actually seems to have supplied the main ingredients for his self-identification as a Jew later in life. It is interesting to see that the paternal rituality which was supposed to pass on a direct significatory correspondence between prayers, deeds and the religious meanings, only resulted in frustration that such a direct correspondence was absent. The father came to express something other than he pretended to, and the authenticity of the ritual's signification broke down. However the mother, whose food carried no pretensions to a particular sign-value or sin-

gular meaning, but rather introduced an open and diffuse atmosphere of something with which the boy affecdonately identified, seemed authentic to him. Benkow is not alone in having found his Jewish authenticity and identification mainly in food and the context of meals to the detriment of the traditional, verbally signifying rituality, such as the liturgy. The concepts of "Bauch-]tide" or "Bagel-" or "Chopped liver and pickled onions J e w " are commonly known.

The modern dilemma and radical individualism The late British Jewish comic Marty Feldman has described this figure of modern Jewish idendty thus: We Jews are o.k. After all, who gave the world Einstein? W h o gave them Freud? W h o gave them bagels and lox? (quoted in Rogov et. al. 1984)

Here Feldman manages to include the important identity-aspect that the Jewish " I " sees himself through the (imagined) eyes and images of the gentile world. His self-respect as a Jew is constituted via the utility of Jewish creations to gentiles. The Jewish contribution to global fast-food-culture—the bagel—is one such useful and harmless creation, which together with the well-assimilated, Great Jewish Thinker-celebrities are images through which he will allow himself to become identified as Jew (and thus accept himself as himself). According to the French Jewish philosopher Alain F in kielkraut Jews have become but images of ourselves or images of the images of the images that are mainly products of the gentile world. In Finkielkraut's terms this is an empty Jewishness, defined solely by its claim to being different. A difference with no content other than its own claim to being "distinct from." The non-Jewish world of the gojim which should make up the other side of the distinction and be the Something from which the Jewish difference should differentiate is as empty as the imagined Jewishness. The gentile world has been through a similar loss of essentialised identity as have the Jews (Finkielkraut 1980). This leaves late-modern Jewish identity as an image of an empty difference from an empty Something Other. Most Jews are not aware of this however. We walk around believing that we are still living in the modern Jewish dilemma, when Jews could choose between collectivist identity-formations of universalism on the one hand and equally collectivist root-metaphoric dogmas of essendalised identities on the other. If they chose the universalist formation, as in the French revolutionary ideals of uniform citizenship, they would have to give up the particularlistic forms of Jewish idendty and praxis. If they chose the identity-essentialising formation, which did leave room for particularistic alliances, they would also have to face the implicarions of organic nationalism and its mechanisms of exclusion, and often fall victim to that formation themselves—as happened in the Shoah. So none of the models of the modern Jewish dilemma ever really worked collectively for Jews, if they were to remain Jews and still wished to be part of the society of the gentile majority. However, modernism offered a third choice, that of opting out of any kind of collectivism and communitarianism and become a radical individualist. Finkielkraut claims that this has become the preferred identity-formation for Jews, especially after the Shoah when the earlier forma-

dons proved either fatally inadequate or catastrophic. By this formation the individual continually creates himself 7 by making those life-choices that will most individualize and distinguish him from others resembling himself. He is focused on creating himself in such a way that he keeps up his own individual difference from The Rest. The radical Jewish individualist is neither a Jew nor a Gentile. He is himself. His life is a project of individuation, by which he believes he will become more unique and more himself. He will be a Jew when this distinguishes himself as different in a gentile context, and he will play the role of "the gentile" when in Jewish surroundings. T o him the universalist communitarianism has proved a failure and the Jewish community is but a fiction existing only in the discourse of those re-enchanting traditionalisers who proclaim it and who speak in the name of an abstract Jewish "we" (Finkielkraut 1980: 113). The only remnants of a living Jewish community are scattered and fragile families of individuals living out endless processes of identity-tests and infinite selfclassification projects. They try to construct their Jewishness through the eyes of the " O t h e r s " — t h e goyim—forming ever new criteria for exclusion and inclusion. But they now meet new kinds of images in those eyes. Non-Jews no longer generally see Jews as doomed, inferior exoticisms. Today many non-Jews envy, admire and especially feel nostalgia for an authenticity and essence which they read into Jewishness, and to which they believe they have no access themselves (ibid.). Jews have become icons of idealised authenticity, folklore, essentialism and primordial cosmopolitanism invoking images of original diasporas and ghetto-life. The Jews have the honorary position of having been the pioneers of those spaces of marginality, hybridity and eternal migration which most people inhabit today. In spite of its new iconic quality in gentile contexts, Jewishness has become empty to most Jews. If anything it underlines that the essential content of Jewishness today is that of still and always being The Other—the radically different one in all situations.

Late modern Jewish meals as enactments of empty identity? Now, where does this take the meals, the food and the seder-party in Paris? That seder-meal was empty of the traditional narratives of other sedernights. As I see it, that meal was but one enactment of a new identity of empty signifiers which might be the identity-formation of Jewish late modernity. Perhaps it was a paradoxical "instant community" of radical cultural individualists united over signs which had drifted in from a dead sea of c o m m o n referents, the meaning of which could no longer be read because the language had been forgotten and no longer made any sense. The traditional foods had a quality of instant recognition calling forth affect, but an affect which could not be anchored in any specific significatory values (though I do hope it tasted good). The united "Amen" (literally meaning "truly"), which used to be an expression of affirmation of Something, now became its own referent and closed upon itself, reduced to an icon of a Something which was absent.

7

This could also be read "herself." T h e individual discussed here could be a woman or a man.

This must be seen as a radical transformation of Jewish rituality. I do not thereby mean to say that traditional Judaism no longer exists. But I do claim that it only reaches a small minority of Jews today. I also do not claim that traditional rabbinical Judaism has ever had only one original, stable and authentic kind of signification and meaningfulness. As already mentioned, talmudic tradition has always been self-reflexive and in negotiation with itself and the gentile world around it. However I do believe that the solitary "Amen!" of the seder-night in 1996 does represent a radical shift of what it means to practice Jewish rituality (and the role of meals therein). Sitting down to eat traditional foodstuffs in a pretended family-like setting (the setting that Finkielkraut saw as the closest we get to an existing Jewish community today) has, for many, become the only expression of Jewishness. The former Norwegian president, J o Benkow, nowadays meets his Judaism in the industrialised fish-balls called gefillte fisch, which he gets served wherever in the world he is invited to a so-called Jewish Occasion or Jewish Home. Whereas his mother used to spend hours preparing the gefillte fisch (which in those days actually were filled fish)—the hosts of these meals in Israeli kibbutzim, Jewish restaurants in the large western metropolises and in the homes of relatives all serve him the same imported fish-balls with a slice of home-steamed carrot balancing on top so "you would believe that the slice of carrot were prescribed in the Jewish dietary laws" (Benkow 1985:77). In parallel with the "Amen!" of the seder-party in Paris, this global 8 fish-ball with its littie home-made slice of carrot carries a condensed, instant marker of "Jewishness," an icon, however empty of any mediated signification it may be. What do these icons signify then, if anything? Maybe they just signify that they signify that they signify. Maybe they refer to the c o m m o n loss of a c o m m o n narrative that all the radical individualists present would have had in c o m m o n had they actually (still) made up a community. Maybe the icons just indicate that we are all eternally and radically different in the same different ways.... By gathering for a meal of industrially-produced gefillte we—the late-modern Jews—perform some instant tradition, a rudiment of practising something we no longer recognize or can designate in other terms than as a differentiation from...

References Benkow, J. 1985. Fra Synagogen til Levebakken. Oslo: Gyldendal Norsk Forlag. Busch, H . J . et al. eds. 1994. Kroppe. Tidsskriftet Antropologi 29. K0benhavn.

Cooper, J. 1993. Eat and be Satisfied. A Social History ofJewish Food. Northvale, New Jersey: Jason Aronson Inc.

Douglas, M. 1966. Purity and Danger. An Analysis of Concepts of Pollution and Taboo. London: Roudedge and Kegan Paul.

Fabre-Vassas, C. 1997. The Singular Beast. Jews, Christians, and the Pig. New York: Colombia University Press. T h e dish Benkow mentions is originally Ashkenazic from Eastern European. However, today, it is found from Siberia to N o r t h America and from Australia to Norway, often even served in otherwise Sephardic restaurants.

Finkielkraut, A. 1980. Le Juif imaginaire. Paris: Editions du Seuil Goldschmidt, Μ. Α. 1962. En Jede. K0benhavn: Hans Reitzels Serie. (1845. T h e quoted edition is a reprint of the 1896 version). Knudsen, A. et at. eds. 1988. Smitte. Tidsskriftet Antropologi 18. K0benhavn. Marenco, C. 1995. "A Table." In Mille et une Bouches. Cuisines et Identités Culturelles. Ed. S. Bessis. Paris: Éditions Autrement. Mirdal, G. & Siesby, B. 1992. Ό et sefardiske kekken gennem 500 àr. Fra Spanien til Tjrkiet. K0benhavn: C. A.Reitzel. Rogov, D., Gershon, D. & Louison, D. 1980. The Rogue's Guide to the Jewish Kitchen. A Feast of Yiddish Foodsfor Thought and Eating. Jerusalem: Carta. Sacks, J. 1991. The Persistence of Faith. Religion, Morality & Society in a Secular Age. T h e Reith Lectures 1990. London: Weiden feld and Nicolson. Salamon, K. L. Goldschmidt 1996. " D u bliver som D u spiser—mâltidet som j0disk identitetsfaktor og sakralt rum." In Kritisk Forum for praktisk teologi 65/1996. Frederiksberg: Anis Scaraffia, L. 1995. "Au commencement était le Verbe." In Mille et une Bouches. Cuisines et Identités Culturelles. Ed. S. Bessis. Paris: Éditions Autrement. Steinsaltz, A. 1976. The Essential Talmud. New York: Bantam Books.

T H E K E D E M — A CULTURAL F O U N D A T I O N FOR H E B R E W C U L T U R E IN PALESTINE A N A T T E M P T THAT FAILED BARBARA SCHÄFER Freie Universität Berlin, Germany

With this paper I wish to draw attenuon to the K E D E M , a cultural venture that failed—nisayon she 10 hityliach. This is the well-known tide of Ahad Haam's last article in the collection of his At the Crossroads—Al Parashat-derakhimpronouncing his final judgement on the failure of the Bene Moshe. They initiated the first attempt to p r o m o t e the subject of cultural work as part of Zionism's agenda, striving to give it a prominent, if not, a paramount place. O t h e r such attempts to p r o m o t e cultural issues were to follow—the most spectacular of them being the walk-out of the Democratic Fraction at the Fifth Congress 1901—none of them successful. T h e foundation of the K E D E M Fund for Hebrew Culture in Palestine in 1913 was but another such attempt, the last before World War One. T h e existence of the K E D E M seems to have escaped the attention of the contemporary public as well as that of most historians of Zionism, although its pretensions were all-encompassing and very fundamental. T h e Encyclopedia Judaica does not have a lemma K E D E M . T h e only substantial account can be found in Adolf B ö h m ' s History of Zionism. 2 1 came across the K E D E M in the course of a research project that is being presendy conducted at our Berlin institute under the tide of "Zionist Circles in Berlin." T h e Zionist journal Die Welt became our main source of information. Some material could be found in the Central Zionist Archives in Jerusalem. T h e cultural fund K E D E M — K E R E N H A - T A R B U T H A - I V R I T — w a s registered as a limited company in L o n d o n on July 23, 1913, the executive bureau being based in Berlin. T h e Eleventh Zionist Congress in Vienna 1913 officially authorized it. T h e outbreak of World War O n e in August 1914 abrupdy halted the highly spirited aspirations and activities of the fund, its president Moses Feldstein from Warsaw being an "enemy alien" in Berlin and subject to psychological and economic tribulations. T h o u g h active work had therefore already come to an end in summer 1914, the K E D E M continued to exist and was only removed officially from the register in L o n d o n in the early twenties. Given the short period of active existence and the absence of concrete traces the K E D E M left behind, we might skip this cultural initiative as episodic Ahad Haam 1950. "Nisayon she lo hitzliach." Kot kitve, 437. Ahad Haam's most revealing facit was: Lo hayah burnt ration umiti lichyot we-emunah umitit be-efshurut chayyenu—we then did not have the real will to live and we did not really believe in the possibility of our life. Böhm, A. 1935. Die Zionistische Bewegung. Bd. I. Berlin, 437.

and add it to the rest of the unnodced and mosdy unproducdve attempts. However, the K E D E M deserves a closer look because of its daring and ambidous claim, which was no less than to establish a new central Zionist institution that would be a twin institution of the National Fund, the K E R E N H A - K A Y Y E M E T — in the cultural sector. In the following I will trace the emergence of the K E D E M , try to outline its organizational structure and its concept of culture, and look into the reasons for its failure.

The Emergence of the KEDEM According to the report of Moses Feldstein, President of the K E D E M , to the Eleventh Congress in Vienna (September 2 - 9 , 1913) 3 the K E D E M came into being at the initiative of a preparatory commission, elected by the "small congress" (the "Jahreskonferenz") convened in 1912. This commission was established to implement the resolution of the Tenth Congress at Basel in 1911 "to centralize and organize cultural work in Palestine and the neighboring countries." As is well-known, the Tenth Congress brought about the end of David Wolffsohn's presidency, the end of the "Cologne Period" of Zionism, meaning also the end of the predominance of the mainly Western, or, more precisely, German leadership. Though prominent figures like O t t o Warburg and Arthur Hantke remained members of the new Actions Committee, the Zionist executive, the membership of Shmarya Levin, Victor Jacobson and N a h u m Sokolow indicated the new direction. Critical voices about the lack of a cultural orientation towards Palestine had already been uttered at the Ninth Congress in Hamburg, but the real breakthrough came only with the Tenth Congress in Basel 1911. This Congress brought about a shift not only, as mentioned, in personnel but above all in ideological terms: after the material opening of Palestine, promoted by such leading German Zionists like O t t o Warburg, Franz Oppenheimer, Arthur Ruppin and others, cultural work in Palesdne now became part of the official agenda. For the first time a whole session of the Congress was conducted in Hebrew. This highlighted not only a new general spiritual orientation. More importandy: it revealed that the hitherto rather vague concept of Jewish culture itself was undergoing a process of diversification or, put more positively, the idea itself was taking concrete shape. The one coming to the surface in 1911 at the Tenth Congress—and gathering m o m e n t u m in the period thereafter—was that of Hebrew culture. Hebrew had been an element of cultural work from the outset, but it was but one element. From the Eleventh Congress onwards Hebrew turned into the determinant element of cultural work in Zionism. Promodon of Hebrew with all its implications became the epitome of the national Renaissance. It goes without saying that this new direction was not shared by all Zionist fractions. Thus the Tenth Congress was indeed a turning point in Zionist policies. It can only be fully assessed against the background of the thriving Hebrew 3

Printed in Die Welt X V / 3 9 , 26. September 1913, 1330.

Movement outside the Congress platform. Let me briefly trace the milestones of this development: After the death of T h e o d o r Herzl, during the years 1905 to 1910 Shai Ish Hurwitz, Reuwen Brainin and others propagated their SlNAI-project for the promotion of Hebrew Culture f r o m the central office in Berlin. 4 Its program names many of the items K E D E M would later include, such as the publishing of Hebrew textbooks, the organization of symposia on cultural issues, the founding of an avant-garde Hebrew journal, support of Hebrew authors and so on. T h e S1NAI project was not realized, but after the merger of S 1 N A I , the Bern/Switzerland based I V R I Y Y A and a few other cultural centers in Russia the H 1 S T A D R U T L E S A F A H W E S I F R U T I V R I T came into being in 1910. Here again we find the main issues of the later K E D E M on the agenda. In December 1909, shordy before the Congress in Hamburg, Berlin witnessed the first "conference for Hebrew language and literature," initiated and prepared by an impressive committee of prominent figures from the Hebrew Movement all over the world. The central aim, namely the establishment of a Hebrew Congress to be held every other year, was not achieved because of the lack of cooperation between the participants. A second conference took place in Kiev about a year later, with more or less the same agenda, and with the same, negative, result. T h e c o m m o n denominator of all these initiatives was a cultural concept heavily leaning on Ahad Haam that surpassed the narrow limits conceded by the Zionist Congress to cultural issues and consequendy dismissed the binding nature of the Baseler Program. Though many Zionist leaders actively participated in both movements no official cooperation could be worked out. T h e emergence of the K E D E M as a thoroughly Zionist cultural institution at the eve of World War O n e therefore was a new phenomenon. It is not possible to determine in detail the organizational steps that preceded its sudden appearance for lack of documentary evidence. If we wish to understand the circumstances of its coming into being we must depend on inner evidence and therefore have to take a closer look at its organizational structure and its cultural concept as expressed in the preserved materials.

The organizational structure of the KEDEM The K E D E M was built on the patterns of the Jewish National Fund, the K E R E N H A K A Y Y E M E T , its elder brother. Registered in London as a limited company, it was managed by a directory of at least five but at most twelve members to be elected by the General Assembly constituted by the members of the fund. 5 Like in the National fund, members of the K E D E M had to be members of the supervisory board of the Jewish Colonial Trust (the Zionist bank), w h o were exclusively members of the Great Actions Committee, elected every other year by the Zionist Congress. 4

5

See Nash, S. 1980. In Search of Hebraism. Shai Ish Hurwitz and his Polemics. Leiden: Brill, chapter 13: " T h e Sinai Experiment." Memorandum des jüdischen Kulturfonds KEDEM, CZAJ, Z 3 / 1 4 0 3 .

The power of the General Assembly was considerable. According to § 34 the General Assembly was empowered to dismiss any director. § 32 provided that certain central projects had to be submitted for approval to the General Assembly by the directory. § 35 determined that half of the directory had to resign after one year on the convening of its assembly, to be replaced by new members or old reelected ones. Thus Zionist control was protected and assured. But in order to open the K E D E M to vital cultural influences outside the Zionist Organization § 4 provided the membership of the directors of the Nadonal Fund and the president of the Odessa Committee. Furthermore, § 8 endded the General Assembly from time to time to elect eminent intellectual leaders as members who had contributed in an outstanding way or by generous donadons to the idea of the Jewish Renaissance. Moses Feldstein as the spiritual and material originator of the K E D E M was nominated a lifetime member. The General Assembly itself was controlled once a year by a supervisory board and a chartered accountant of the state. 6 Most of this is well known from the Nadonal Fund. Indeed the two were built like twin insritudons, differing only in their aim and their agenda. Feldstein remarked in his report to the Congress: Both institutions will work in a parallel way. T h e one wants the land, the other will conquer the spirit. O n e wants the land for the people; the other wants the people for the land. T h e national Fund is the hard core in the nucleus of the National Renaissance; the K E D E M is the vitalizing lotion of the nucleus. Both institutions complete each other and together they strive for a historical creation: the Renaissance of the nation in its country. 7

The cultural concept of the KEDEM T h e cultural concept of the K E D E M becomes clear on two levels: O n a very fundamental ideological plane and through the presentadon of its concrete program of acdon. a) Moses Feldstein in his address to the Eleventh Congress made some fundamental statements: T h e soul of the nation is language, where alone the whole spiritual power of a nation is stored. Our abnormal situation probably is less due to the loss of the land, but to the loss of our language and thus we have become alienated from our national culture.

This loss of the language could only be called a shameful treason, a surrender to assimilation. At present the Jews were running the risk of losing the young generation through it. The very fact, that not only in the Diaspora, but even in Eretz Israel the Jews were disunited by different languages, revealed the utmost tragedy of the present time. But new signs of hope could be recognized in the young colonies in the country. There a unifying strength was germinating

6 7

Ibid. Die Weltes

ibid., 1331.

through the renaissance of the Hebrew language. And there promising new fields of commitment and action were opening up. 8 The unifying power of the Hebrew language is the main focus of Heinrich Loewe's ardent appeal, which he formulated with powerful rhetoric in Die Welt and elsewhere: T h e cultivation and maintenance of the language has been the only vessel of Jewish culture throughout four thousand years. Even where it disappeared to the very rudiments of the vernacular, these remnants remained a glue for the dismanded limbs of the nation, scattered all over the world, to the present day.

Thus, through the Hebrew language the Jews are connected through all periods of history and in the present time over the whole world—a unifying power both in time and in space. The name of the K E D E M , Loewe explains, implies all these aspects: K E D E M means "morning," whose sun is shining for the happy days in the future of our people. It is also /east,' for which our people is longing, and where our beloved Zion at all times tuned the lute for the song of Israel. ... But K E D E M also means "what preceded us," namely the ancient time, when our nation grew from a shepherd's family into a people, which resisting all rigors and persecutions could never be eliminated, for eternal life is granted to it through its ancient cultural heritage. But the word K E D E M also hints at the life that lies ahead of us and commands us: Forward! Conserve the old and create the new—such is our slogan. 9

b) Let us now turn to the practical steps proposed by the K E D E M . These are the items presented by Feldstein: First priority of all cultural work must be the promotion of Jewish knowledge and Jewish learning. The means to achieve this aim are: —The publishing of teaching and reading materials. This aim presupposes the systematical enlargement of the Hebrew language. - T h e r e f o r e the creation of an enlarged thesaurus must be achieved by the establishment of a language academy, a S Y N H E D R J O N in Jerusalem, in which all leading Hebrew intellectuals participate. - T h e foundation of the Jewish University in Jerusalem, one of the pet ideas of cultural work from the outset, is given highest priority on principle but under the present conditions cannot be realized. § 3 of the association's Memorandum 1 0 enumerates altogether 24 projects, representing the whole gamut of topics ever discussed during the long fight for Jewish culture. Once the fundamental claims were laid down in the statutes, the demand of the hour was: to start action. Feldstein's reservations towards the university project indicate the pragmatic intentions of the K E D E M : the time was ripe for practical work. Accordingly Feldstein introduced his plan of action with the following clarification: 8 9

10

Ibid. Loewe, H. 1913. " D e r Jüdische Kulturfonds K E D E M . " Die Welt XVII/Kongreßausgabe IV, 7. September, 59-60. CZAJ, Z 3 / 1 4 0 3 .

T h e K E D E M does not aim at the solution of cultural questions as such. Moreover we conceive of ourselves as an element striving for the acknowledgement of the political idea of the nation, to p r o m o t e the idea of t h e j i s h u v a m o n g Palestine Jewry and to raise a new generation that is bound to the land of its fathers by material and moral bounds. 1 1

If we sum it all u p — t h e preparation and edition of Hebrew material and the establishment of the S Y N H E D R I O N language academy are the main points—it proves to be a remarkably modest scheme after all. O n the other hand, by stipulating the rest of the projects in the statutes of the fund, the K E D E M consolidated its claim as the leading institution for all questions concerned with cultural work, setting the organizational framework for future development. T o conclude the question of K E D E M ' s sudden emergence raised in the beginning: Given the previously described new Congress politics since 1911 concerning cultural work in Palestine on the one hand and the power and progress of the Hebrew Movement outside the Congress on the other, we may probably conceive of the K E D E M as the outcome of direct or indirect interchange between the two camps, one side—the Congress platform—permanendy and increasingly formulating the need for cultural work and providing the organizational tools, and the other—the Hebrew Movement—offering contents and concepts that could not develop within the Congress platform.

Why was the KEDEM "an attempt that failed? There is one simple answer: with the outbreak of World War O n e the central financial construction of the K E D E M , the Feldstein Fund, collapsed: The 40.000 frcs 12 donated to the foundation consisted of public loans by the city of Lodz, which were immediately lost. Thus the financial basis of the K E D E M was seriously damaged, if not destroyed. This is the external explanation. But there were other reasons. I can only list them here without entering into details: 1. Feldstein's central project of the SYNHEDRION language academy was obstructed right f r o m the beginning by David Jellin and Eliezer Ben Yehuda, the heads of the " W A ' A D H A - L A S H O N ‫ ״‬in Jerusalem. F r o m a Hebrew correspondence between Feldstein and the two, preserved at the CZAJ, 13 we learn that they were anything but enthusiastic about the interference f r o m outside and unwilling to cooperate with the K E D E M along his lines. T h o u g h glad to receive financial help they stricdy refused any control of their work. 2. When shordy after the establishment of the K E D E M the language war ensued in September 1913 over the use of Hebrew or G e r m a n as the language of instruction at the Technion a new cultural focus emerged with the so-called "Hebrew schoolwork," in which the teachers' union took the lead. Quite surprisingly, and in stark contrast with its explicit declarations, the K E D E M seems to have had no part in it. The Hebrew schoolwork consumed enormous sums, but it also succeeded in raising considerable funds given for this very purpose, 11 12 13

See note 7. T h e n equivalent to 16.000 Rubel or 1.510 Pounds St. Z 3 / 1 4 0 0 , Jellin and Ben Yehuda to K E D E M , 6. And 28. Tewet 1913/14.

thus distracting the flux of donations from the K E D E M and at the same time undermining its authority. 3. The idea of the Jewish University, deferred by Feldstein, nevertheless continued to attract strong financial supporters w h o were very determined that this special project should have priority over all other cultural projects or at least equal them in importance. And we can find other cultural initiatives like the "Union for promoting the Hebrew Gymnasium in Jerusalem," "Friends of the Hebrew National Library" and others, focussing on a very special objective and not willing to submit to any centralizing institution like the K E D E M . This p h e n o m e n o n , characterized by Michael Berkowitz in his book on Zionist culture and West European Jewry as the "decentralized polycentric approach" of cultural work, no doubt was the main reason for the failure of the K E D E M . It seems an inherent feature of culture itself, and therefore not only the K E D E M but many other cultural inidatives aiming at institutionalization became "attempts that failed." May I close this paper by quoting an observation of M. Berkowitz's: Ironically, in the long run, the diversity of effort which this decentralized polycentrist approach permitted may have proven more fruitful than the stricdy centralized coordination of policy and may have enabled the movement to extend its influence to a far greater audience. 14

The failure of the K E D E M certainly was a case in point.

14

Berkowitz, M. 1993. Zionist Culture and West European Jewry Before the First World War. CUP, 56.

1 H E ONLY LITTLE CORNER OF T H E GREAT BRITISH E M P I R E IN W H I C H N O ONE EVER PLAYED CRICKET‫״‬ RECIPROCAL RELATIONS IN BRITISH PALESTINE H E A L T H AND EDUCATION ( 1 9 3 0 - 3 9 ) MARCELLA SIMONI University College London, U K

T h e aim of this paper is to outline the general scheme of the reciprocal relations between the numerous bodies providing welfare in Palestine in the mid-years of the Bridsh Mandate, 1 the 1930 s. T h e history of welfare development remains one of the fundamental issues to be studied in order to analyse and comprehend the birth and radicalisation of the discrepancies within the populations inhabiting the land of Palestine. But the history of the cultural intertwining of all the bodies involved in welfare provision in the 1930 s, offers us an even clearer picture of h o w two of the main plagues afflicting the successive history of the country developed. I refer here to the creation of cultural and social hierarchies based on ethnic cleavages and to the growth and consolidation of nationalistic feelings. This paper is divided into three parts. T h e first introductory part delineates the importance of the category of welfare as a research tool for the analysis of short and long term political processes. T h e second part deals with the active agents of the welfare policies and their reciprocal relations. T h e third and conelusive part suggests that the social processes begun in these very years are accountable for the radicalisation of the political confrontation between Jews and Arabs before 1948 and afterwards.

Welfare T h e relationship between the individual, the family, the state and welfare agents is one of the keys to understand the political nature, and the social aims of a particular form of government. This assumption is valid for an organised state, for a nation state, for a country with a definite national identity, but also for one in the process of nation-building. 2 Welfare is henceforth a valid category to in-

T h e Mandate over Palestine was assigned to Great Britain by the League of Nations at the San Remo Conference in 1920. It became official only on the 29 th of September 1923, following the Lausanne Treaty. T h e 1929 connotation for the word welfare barely corresponds to what we understand by welfare today. Generally speaking, welfare was in those years on the Continent a means for the state's control and intrusion in its citizens private life, to structure free-time and to invade family

vestigate the characteristics of the country's development, and to see how it influenced not only the material process of nation-building, but also the conceptual shaping of the political and social ideas behind the formation of the different national identities within that nation. In a country like the 1930 s Palestine, welfare (the analysis of the population's social conditions, their cultural approach to their own improvement, their own capability of forming the structures for their self-renovation) offers a privileged perspective on the growth of patterns of economic, 3 social and political differentiation. Welfare as such encompasses a whole series of other problems, related to labour organisation, 4 colonisation practices, political activities, treatment of prisoners, the (in)fam0us question of the status quo, periodical rioting, immigration, land sales5 etc. All these themes fall out of the space assigned to this paper. In this context therefore, we have to limit our understanding of welfare as the social and cultural organisation behind the two pillar problems of health and education. Welfare is a broad cultural and social category to investigate internal political relationship, means of sustaining authority, power and identity (the creation of political and cultural hierarchies), means of asserting difference and distinction both socially and culturally and of implementing ethnic, social and cultural divisions among the population. Our instruments for this analysis will be schools, hospitals, voluntary associations, religious and missionary bodies and the state, institutions devoted to the organisation and the transmission of welfare itself. Education and health policies are also fundamental to investigate the conflicting cultural influxes that infiltrated Palestinian life in its two longest lasting aspects: religion and nationalism.

Welfare providers and their reciprocal relations The material agents of welfare provision in the 1930 s Palestine can be sorted in three main groups: a) the British administration, b) the Missionary bodies, c) the Yishutf s 6 social organisation. Bearing in mind that each of these three groups perceived very differendy the reasons of its being present in the area, its roles in the social and political context, its goals and the section of the population it aimed at,7 we can start by saying that health and education policies were trig-

3

4

5

6 7

space. Examples can be found in most of the European states' social policies, in particular of totalitarian régimes in Italy, Germany, Spain, Portugal. Halevi, N . 1983. " T h e political economy of absorptive capacity: growth and cycles in Jewish Palestine." Middle Eastern Studies 19 (4), 456-469; Smith, B. J. 1993. The Roots of Separatism in Palestine, British Economic Policy, 1920-1929. London, N e w York. Ben-Porat, A. 1986. Between Class and Nation. The Formation of the Jewish Working Class in the Period before Israel's Statehood. N e w York, London; Lockman, Z. 1993. "Railway workers and relational history: Arab and Jewish in British ruled Palestine." Comparative Studies in Society and History 35,4, 601-627. Porath, Y. 1976. The Land problem as a factor in Relations among Arabs, Jews and the Mandatory Government. In The Palestinians in the Middle East Conflict. Ed. G. Ben Dor. Tel Aviv. T h e Jewish Community in Palestine. Freisal, E. 1987. " T h o u g h peculiar lens: Zionism and Palestine in British diaries 1927-1936." Middle Eastern Studies 29,3 419-444; Sherman A. J. 1997. Mandate Days. British Lives in Palestine. 1918-1948. Thames and Hudson; Makdisi U. 1997. "Reclaiming the Land of the Bible: Missionary Secularism, and Evangelical Modernity." The American Historical Review 102,3, 680-713.

gered or hindered by the reciprocal relations of their policy makers. The analysis of their activities has been done confronting a few principles that these three groups considered founding of their activities. The British Administration upheld the notion of co-operation and of a shared Palestinian identity between Arabs and Jews. Economic development and religious influence was promoted by missionary bodies. The concept of nation building was the leading idea behind the Yishutis leadership and course of action.

British Administration and Welfare Since the late 1920 s co-operation became the British strategy to unite the bodies involved in welfare management, sustained by the idea of embedding British values in social policies. This was meant to generate with time a fundamentally united population, regardless of the fact that by the mid—1930 s a very advanced and organised Jewish social organisation had materialised after difficult but solid beginnings. Financial concerns set the tone of the British social policies. The Treasury upheld the notion that the "capital equipment" of Palestine had to be kept as far as possible within the power of the country to pay for it (i.e. Jewish medical services' standards had to be lowered, or "run on a less extravagant basis", in Colonel Heron's 8 words). The Colonial Office however could not conceal their admiration for the working model of the Jewish welfare organisations. Generally speaking the Treasury showed themselves very uneasy about the future of Palestine and inclined to think that it was already over equipped, having regard to its present and prospective financial resources [...]. O n e cannot but feel considerable sympathy for the Jewish organisations which have done such excellent health work in Palestine and now find themselves financially strained. It is natural enough that they should expect Government to take over some of the burden from them [...].' Officially British educational and medical institutions were really directed at Muslim and Christian Arabs, 10 there where Missionary bodies were not making up for the Government's lack of institutions. At the same time Anglican Missions intended to promote British values and interests, believed to offer long term solutions to a widening cultural, social and political Jewish-Arab gap. The need for Palestine of the British Mission Hospital is not less urgent now. The British Administration has no safer asset for creating prestige and no

8 9

10

Head of the Department of Health of the British Government. Public Record Office, London (henceforth PRO), Series Colonial Office (henceforth CO), 733/223/4. T h r o u g h o u t the Mandate the Arab population's demographic growth was, between 1922 and 1947, of 120 %; this caused a vast movement of the Arab population, characterised by urbanisation on the one hand and a growing flow from East to West on the other. Haifa's Arab population grew by 87 % between 1922 and 1931 and Jaffa's by 63 %. Jerusalem's dominance declined. In 1922, Jerusalem had the largest Arab population. By 1944, it could count the third largest Arab population. See Migdal, J. S. 1980. Palestinian Society and Politics. Princeton. Kimmerling, Β. and Migdal, J. S. 1993. Palestinians: the making of a people. N e w York; Khalidi, W. 1984. Before their Diaspora, A Photographic Histoiy of the Palestinians, 1876-1948. Washington DC: Institute For Palestine Studies.

surer ally in breaking down opposing prejudices than these institutions dotted here and there throughout the country." 11 Drastic economic stringencies on the one hand and Imperial interests on the other led to British schools pairing with religious ones administered by missionary bodies. Of these the more contiguous to the ruling class was the Anglican "Jerusalem and the East Mission" (J&EM). The major consequence of this co-operation, and the more burdened with long term repercussions, was the formation of an élite culture, and therefore, of a cultural élite, instead of the promotion of a culturally egalitarian society. Despite the country's primary need for basic instruction first, higher education was privileged instead. N o law for primary or secondary compulsory education ever existed. Until 1927 no ordinance regulated the country's schools, sanitary conditions, teachers, curricula, examinations etc.12 Despite the acknowledgement, as early as 1926, that two separate school systems existed, one for Jews and one for Arabs, the object of the Government remained an administrative control to be carried out through the development of a "public system of education" where "English is taught in the upper classes of the Jewish Elementary schools in towns and in the larger colonies." 13 The 1927 law, confirmed by the 1933 Education Ordinance ultimately meant that, together with a higher and more organised standard in education, administrative control was exercised through inspection while political control was similarly accomplished through means of financial contribution. It also came to signify that among the two parallel systems the Jewish one could offer an almost total coverage for children education. Among rural and urban Arabs only 58 and 57 % of children applying for education respectively could be satisfied.14 The Peel's Commission decision on partition (1937) was taken after a complete analysis of the educational system, as it had developed until that day in Palestine. In the same year the Arab schools provided for 2 0 % of the Arab school population. 15 Health provision and administration reproduced some of the mechanisms outlined above. One fundamental distinction however has to be introduced here. While the British administrative control in education contributed to the cultural Jewish-Arab gap widening, it was a social distinction which achieved similar results in matters of health. At the same time, without the dominating British scientific rigour in sanitary, hygienical, medical and, from the beginning of the 1930 s, preventive policies, no development of any medical structure would have ever been possible. Campaigns against infectious disease, towards education to health and hygiene, a whole series of new sanitary regulations, demolishment of filthy and dangerous areas, water channelisation, rules on food sale and conservation, were all 11

12 13 14

15

Middle East Center Archives, St. Antony's College, O x f o r d (henceforth M E Q , Jerusalem and the East Mission Papers (henceforth J&EM) box 58, file 3, Report of St. Luke's Hospital, Haifa. N o v e m b e r 1922 to N o v e m b e r 1923. PRO C O 733/141/7. PRO C O 733/131/5. Colonial Office, Colonial n. 134, Palestine Royal Commission, Minutes of Evidence Heard at Pubäc Sessions. London, 1937. Evidence of Mr. H. E. Bowman, Director of Education. 27 th N o v e m b e r 1936, 48. Ibid, Evidence of Mr. A. Katznelson, Professor I . J . Klieger, Miss H. Szold, 28 December 1937, 208.

legislated during the first decade and in the mid-years of the Mandate. If the British Department of Health fought epidemics and infectious disease, the medical work in public health was left to missions and charitable institutions ("a main feature of the country") or to the growingly self-sufficient Jewish medical organisations. The latter acquired an autonomy, legitimisation and recognition that made of it the main health system of the country, serving primarily Jews, even if they did not meet the government sanitary requirements. The British medical authority tolerated and even supported Jewish private tuberculosis wards and mental asylums which mushroomed in the country when the British supply of medical structures could not fulfil the overwhelming demand. 16 The Yishuv's welfare leaders such as Henrietta Szold, 17 head of the Welfare Department of the Palestine Zionist Executive, or such as Dr. Yassky, the head of the Hadassah Medical Organization (HMO), of Dr. Perlson, head of the Kupat-Holim (KH), 18 all resented the lack of initiative of the Palestine Government. While Hadassah contributed in no small measure to the hospitalisation and care of Arabs as well as of Jews, social and cultural distinctions between the two were such that they overwhelmed any effort towards an equal care, despite the fact that illness fell without distinction of ethnic or religious denomination. The creation of a shared Palestinian identity by all means failed to come into existence. T w o were the main reasons, beyond those enumerated above. First of all, if the Mandate incorporated the Balfour Declaration, only religious relationships were possible. Arab political institutions lacked the explicit recognition and autonomy that Jewish Palestinian institutions came to enjoy. Secondly, the years 1930-1936 witnessed the British political consolidation following the 1929 disturbances. In such a scenario, where political sovereignty was believed to have the same meaning of security, social policies and their implementation could not escape this basic contradiction. In Henrietta Szold's words: Now, if one asks the question, which is preferable, security or these [social] services, my answer in part is that whilst security, of course, is a primary requisite, it also contributes to security to have those services of an educational and social character spread over larger portions of the community with a lower cultural level. 19

16

17

18

19

Documentation on this subject can be found in Israel State Archives, Jerusalem (henceforth ISA) Mandate Series (henceforth M) 1576 54/18, ISA M 1576 5 4 / 4 , ISA M 1577 5 4 / 3 0 ISA M 1577 54/45, P R O C O 7 3 3 / 1 5 5 / 1 3 , P R O C O 7 3 3 / 1 8 4 / 9 , Central Zionist Archives, Jerusalem (henceforth CZA) Series S (henceforth S) 4 8 / 4 3 J / 1 1 3 . Henrietta Szold's role in the consolidation and management of welfare services in Palestine is of the utmost relevance. See Dash, J. 1979. Summoned to Jerusalem: The Life of Henrietta S?0ld. New York; Fineman I. 1961. Woman of Valor, the Life of Henrietta S-old, 1860-1945. N e w York, 1961; Krantz, H. 1995. Daughter of My People-Henrietta S?old and Hadassah. Northvale NJ; Kustanovitz S. E. 1990, Henrietta S ?old-Israel's Helping Hand. New York; Lowenthal, M. 194Z Henrietta S?old, Life and Letters. New York; Shargel B. R. ed. 1997. Lost Love-Thc Untold Story of Henrietta S ?old. Philadelphia; Zeitlin, R 1952. Henrietta S ?old: Record of a Life. New York. Schvarts, S. 1997. Kupat-Holim Haclalit. The General Sick Fund Its Development as a Major Factor in the Health Services in Eret? Israel, 1911-1937 (Hebr.). Sede Boqer Campus. Colonial Office, Colonial n. 134, Palestine Royal Commission... Evidence of Mr. A. Katznelson, Professor I.J. Klieger, Miss H. Szold, 28 December 1937, 208.

Missionary Bodies and Welfare Different denominational missionary bodies operated in the field of welfare. Their presence in Palestine was rooted in 19th century European political strategies.20 Antagonistic relations developed with Jewish institutions, Catholic and Protestant ones. The YMCA represented the exception (through its secretary Heinrichs Waldo Hundey), 21 co-operating with the British administration on the one hand and with Yishuv on the other. Reciprocal antagonism between religious institutions mainly developed because of the prominent position accorded by the British administration to the Anglican bodies: the 'J&EM' and the 'Order of St. John in Jerusalem'. The latter's relations with the British Government, for one example, are indicative of that making up for lack of British activities, mentioned above. The Warden of the St. John's Ophthalmic Hospital, was appointed Honorary Consulting O p h thalmic Surgeon of the Government of Palestine, responsible for the treatment of ophthalmic diseases in the whole country. Most of the high ranking British officers were also knighted by the Order of St. John. O n e of the most interesting examples is that of Miss Margaret Nixon, D a m e of the Order since 1919 and Welfare inspector of the Government since 1921, followed by that of Humphrey Bowman and Colonel G. W. Heron, Stewart Perowne (Palestine Government Education Service since 1927 after working as the Bishop Secretary) and others. The relationship between the two was therefore very close, not only in their social work, but primarily in their political work and social attitude. What united them was the feeling of belonging to a British élite ruling society, c o m m o n to all those who had served, either as missionaries, doctors, or Government officers in colonial milieux other than Palestine. In 1935 a missionary opened his report on Medical Work emphasising the charitable aspect of their own work "supplying a grave lacunae in the Government scheme", and at the same time "a fruitful avenue of approach to nonChristians." 22 These were both Arab and Jews, as missionary schools and hospitals were open to all groups. Urban Arabs used missions' welfare services together with the Jewish poor. Hadassah and K H , in a constant mutual opposition which in reality fostered progress and improvement of medical standards in the country, could not however provide for those members of their own community w h o were unable to pay their respective membership fees. In this context we have to read the worried and maybe a litde distorted words for Jewish children lost to the Jewish faith because educated in mission schools. A mission school of the London Jews' society is in the neighbourhood, ever ready to seize hold of the Jewish children and bring them up in the Christian faith. In these rat-infested hovels, around these evil-smelling doorways, sit the children-lisdess, pale, ignorant of play and games of any kind, spending hour after hour sitting still, often in the dark, loosing energy and vitality at this early 20

21

22

Schwake, N. 1996. Hospitals and European colonialpolicy in the 19^ and early 20* centuries. In Health and Disease in the Holy Land Studies in the Histoiy and the sociology of Medicine from Ancient Times to the Present. Ed. M. Waserman and S. Kottek. Lewiston NY. Yale Divinity Library (henceforth YDL) Miscellaneous Personal Papers Collection, Waldo Heinrichs Huntley Papers, Record G r o u p 30, box 30. Waldo Heinrichs Huntley had to resign in 1934. M E C , J & E M Box 58, fde 2, [1935-36],

age. Many are the children of professional beggars-mosdy they belong to Moroccan, Persian, Yemenite, Baghdad or Aleppo Jewish families. 23

Almost ten year later the same preoccupations, in the medical field this time, were expressed by Miss Szold. It is a lamentable fact that the poor of Jerusalem must seek refuge in the English Mission hospital, which is occupied entirely by Jewish patients (to the number of about 1,300).24 But missions did not aim at poor Jews only. In a more ambitious and long-term political project, they tried on the one hand to defend British prestige in the area. O n the other hand, by adopting one section of the population for whom welfare services were barely provided for, they protected and shielded the Arab national cause. The creation of an Arab leadership through the establishment of a British Institute for Higher Studies to side the Hebrew University was proposed in 1925, 1932, 1936 and then abandoned. 25 Other alternative schemes were found then, such as exchange scholarships with the Universities of London, Oxford or Cambridge for the creation of a loyal class of civil servants. Arab doctors were sent to specialise in London, 26 together with architects and engineers. The educated Christian Arabs, many of whom were employed in the Palestine government service in the last days of the Mandate, became the protégés of those missions which remained in Israel after 1948. Additionally, the already poor contacts between Jewish and Christian authorities did not improve when, immediately after 1948 and following the "birth of the Palestinian refugee problem", most of ecclesiastic properties in Israel were expropriated and confiscated, and until today only partially restored to their original owners.

The Yishuv and Welfare The provision of welfare services was here consciously confined to the Jewish section of the population, with a more structured and advanced system than Government's or the missions' ones. Jewish welfare was represented by an overlapping number of organisations which operated geographically on a vaster scale, and with a much broader range of activities than any other body involved in welfare in Palestine. Proof of a greater vitality of the Jewish community, and of a more organised and structured civil society, the Va'ad Leumi (with its Va'ad Hachinuch on the one hand and its Va'ad Habriuth on the other), the K H (1911), the H M O 23

Mrs. N. Bentwich 1926. "Jerusalem Kindergarten and Day Nursery." In The Jewish Chronicle, The Jewish Chronicle Women's Supplement, May 21, 1926-5686. O n the 1 1 o f J u n e 1926 we read a letter to the Director by Rabbi Dr. Salis Daiches: "When I expressed my astonishment to the mother (...) that she allowed her children to attend a mission school, the only reply I received was that the Jewish schools would not allow her children without a fee and being unable to pay for the education of her children she had no alternative but to send them to the mission schools. She thought however that no harm was being done, as "the children did not go there for the purpose of receiving religious instruction, but only to receive a good education and to learn English."

24

Hadassah Medical Organization Archives, N e w York, (henceforth HDS) Series 32, Box 32, Folder 14. PRO C O 733/155/6. PRO C O 733/340/3.

25 26

(1913), the Histadrut (1923), its teachers', doctors' and nurses' syndicates, the Hebrew University (1925), the joint Hadassah-University hospital (1936), constituted the backbone of Jewish welfare sustaining the whole nation-building effort. It created in fact the possibilities for the development of the welfare structures which became after 1948 the spine of the State of Israel. Jewish educational work was considered as one of the brightest factors in the upbuilding of the Jewish National H o m e in Palestine, being Hebrew the only language of instruction in all the schools. Far from being united, a tripartite system of schools had developed already between 1920 and 1926. Education was split between Mizrahi schools, Labour schools and General schools. The religious groups were already trying in the late 1920 s to establish rival institutions to Labour schools in colonies and villages, attracting pupils and their parents as for the documented case of Balfouria. 27 Health care witnessed, in the 1930 s, a growing animosity in the relations between the H M O and K H . Based on a system of health insurance, it provided its members with a reasonable health care system of clinics and hospitals. In 1932 Hadassah adopted the policy of transferring its various health services to the local Jewish Communities. 28 Fearing that political entanglements with the Palestinian political bodies would hamper its programs' effectiveness, it adopted in 1935 the role of a private American Zionist organization working for the general welfare of the Yishuv i.e. its board of health. The practice of medicine, started on a rudimentary base, sparked off also thanks to the German Jewish immigration. In this tri-partite welfare system, we can say that the Jewish bodies were at least ten years ahead of the rest, either in education or health. But it is necessary to say as well that the social and cultural differentiations deepened by this complex system, were in these years accepted, encouraged and finally exploited for political purposes after 1936, within the Jewish system, as well as towards the Arab population. This dangerous gap, left unattended for too long, can account for the Jewish Agency's political and cultural prominence after 1948.

The dangerous heritage. Historical conclusion In this picture where welfare policies were dictated by the very different nature and aims of the participants, financial considerations were at the base of the relationship between the Yishuv and the Government. Political factors instead determined the connection between the latter and the Jerusalem and the East Mission. These relations turned into mutual mistrust and in open rivalry and competition. These bodies competed for the Government's support, esteem, favour and political recognition. They also tried to reach different sectors of the population at the same time establishing a practice of division that remained

27 28

CZA S 48/27 " D r . Yassky [...] said that at present the policy of the Hadassah has been to transfer the responsibility for medical services to the local Jewish community and to decrease its grants accordingly, with the eventual object of concentrating its attention on its Jerusalem hospital, which would become the Hospital of the University, and on child welfare activities." P R O C O 7 3 3 / 2 2 3 / 4 ,

permanently after 1939. They exploited a division that was latent to make it permanent and to cement it in the society. In terms of the cultural organisation, the problem can be identified in the eternal clash between the western tradition and the natives' culture. What this meant and implied in the case of the 1930 s Palestine fell in the social sphere: in the Jewish dynamic growth of the civil society's organisation versus the static Arab family's structure, hampering communication within and outside the Arab community and hindering the advancement of education, especially of its female component. This meant that a whole series of professions, such as nursing and teaching in elementary schools, was not covered in the Arab community. As health and education are both means to perpetuate a society's existence and to guarantee the possibilities of its advancement and self-renewal, under a physical or under a spiritual point of view) this also came to signify that no self-perpetuating institutions were secured for the Arab population in those years. Against all these differences broke the proclaimed notion of a Palestinian identity to be shared by Arabs and Jews, and also its development. Economic development also failed because of substantial lack of capital. Nation-building succeeded, but a huge social, cultural and political gap was left in heritage to the new b o m Israelis, after the British left. It may be asked what else is left of thirty years of British rule in the country, apart from the red letter boxes. I will start by saying, together with David Vital, that "Jewish Palestine may have been the only little corner of the great British Empire in which no one ever played cricket." 29 Very litde is his answer. The limited impact of the British on the Jews while they were still present in the country as rulers can be a first explanation, followed by the fact that no class of Anglo-Palestinian Jews ever evolved, and that no English type schools for Jewish children was ever built. In the above mentioned article Palestine as such, as more than a mere geographical expression, is acknowledged as the greatest British result. Hygienical improvement, sanitary conditions and a remarkable work in medical provision can also be credited, together with a long list of public works. If we distance ourselves from material achievements and focus on political and social results, including the judicial system, we find a process of social construction which set the tone then for a controversy yet unresolved.

29

Vital, D. 1992. "Bread upon the waters. The legacy of the British in Jewish Palestine." In T U J u n e 5.

JEWISH MODERNISM T H E H I D D E N M E A N I N G S OF G E R S H O M S C H O L E M ' S SABBATEI

SEVI

A N T H O N Y D A V I D SKINNER University of Chicago, USA Even if differently than you once suggested, I have made myself into one of the figures who camouflages himself in famous paintings. Gershom Scholem to Joseph Weiss. March, I960 1

T h e tide of this paper is somewhat misleading. It is not my point that there is something inherendy " m o d e r n " about Judaism. Rather, I will attempt something much more modest—namely, to show how certain Jewish thinkers in Germany of the 1920s and 30s adapted Jewish history to their own contemporary needs and desires. They sacked and plundered holy sources, stripped them of their cultic aura, culled them for their "desirable" figures, motifs, and ideas, and reformulated them according to a modern, secular sensibility. They sought to "feel" the past—and to discover in it something new, relevant, and personal. Archival sources, religious figures, past heroes, saints, and villains became allegories of m o d e r n urban life. It is in this sense that G e r s h o m Scholem's masterpiece, Sabbatei Sevi: The Mystical Messiah, was more than the product of a skilled philologist and historian; its author was a "modernist" w h o "camouflaged" himself into his scholarship. Elusively, Scholem himself admitted to the presence of a " h i d d e n " and personal dimension to his work. Joseph Weiss, w h o m Scholem considered his best student, once remarked in a local Tel Aviv newspaper appeared that a strange "incongruence" existed between Scholem's "very lively personality and his seemingly dead scholarship." Scholem's highly charged voice rarely penetrated into his dryly objective works, said Weiss, lending his works an "impersonal anonymity." But u p o n closer inspection, his teacher's philological studies appeared as "Scholem incognito." Like a medieval painter w h o "paints his own face" onto a figure in a crowd, he "camouflaged" himself into his scholarly compositions. Weiss went on to note that only those w h o knew Scholem's "singularly sculpted personality" could decipher these deeper and more hidden motifs. Scholem responded to the article by complimenting Weiss for his quite "exquisite and audacious suggestion." This does not mean that Scholem made up his facts. Scholem was an exceptionally vigilant and exacting historian and philologist, carefully extracting his

This quote comes from a letter reprinted in Peter Schaefer, '"Die Philologie der Kabbala ist nur eine Projektion auf eine Flaeche': G e r s h o m Scholem ueber die wahren Absichten seines Kabbalastudiums." Jcivish Studies Quarterly 5, 1998, 22.

materials from the vast quarry of the Jewish past. Even if he let his materials "speak for themselves," Scholem alone decided which source was allowed to speak and how. He was a craftsman who formed his materials to conform to his own demands. Let me begin with his materials. Like a montage artist, Scholem found his materials in hitherto despised or ignored sources. He spoke of the "stammering symbol-language" of Sevi's disciples and the "vituperations of the opponents." 2 Scholem fit into his philological mosaic letters written by Sevi himself and by his "prophet," Nathan of Gaza. He also turned to "legends" about Sevi to unravel the mysteries surrounding him. Legends, he believed, often "expresses more truth than an accurate enumeration of facts, and the legends surrounding a great man often tell us more about him than historical research ever can." 3 He spoke of "many and diverse rumors" and of "vague and hazy reports" passing through a "filter of popular legends." 4 His book "deciphered" these "halfarticulated utterings about mystical secrets, symbols, and images," "transforming" them into "invaluable keys to an understanding of important historical processes and into matters worthy of profound analysis and serious discussion." 5 Scholem then bolted all of these sources, a dazzling array of citations, into his book. The result was well suited for his cultural Zionism. Scholem believed that Jews must actively work to secularize and deepen Jewish culture. The new Jewish homeland in Palestine was to be for him a Utopian project based upon labor, Hebrew revival, and scholarship. Far from fleeing the realities of the modern world, as many anti-Zionist critics claimed, he viewed Zionism as the only chance for Jews qua Jews to return to history and to take up their place within m o d e m humanity. In his book on Sevi Scholem thus focussed his attention upon a radicalized generation of young 17th century kabbalists he called ‫״‬Utopians with a sense of crisis and with an avidity for the new age, who would shed no tears for the passing away of the old state of things." They wanted to change history, to transform Judaism, and to return to a healthy, normal national life free of the oppression of galut and the unbending conservatism of tradition. Youthful scholars and mystics longed to seize control of their own fate. They yearned for a "Messiah." This messianic urge Scholem identified among early modern believers was very similar in function, though in a different form, to his own cultural Zionism. He said about his generation of German-Jewish intellectuals: "We are now able to perceive the spark of Jewish life and the constructive aspirations even in phenomena which Orthodox Jewish tradition has denounced with full force." None of this is particularly new, as the connection between Scholem's political ideas and his scholarship has long been recognized. As I hope to show, however, Scholem packed even more into the story. In one place he used the expression "existentialism" to describe the deepest emotional force behind his

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Scholem, G. 1973. Sabbalai Sen': The Mystical Messiah. Princeton, 929. Ibid. Ibid, 332. Ibid, χ.

"new form of thinking." 6 Just as his pupil Weiss observed, he "painted" his own face into his characters. Beyond obvious differences in details, the relationship between Nathan and Sevi bears a "functional" resemblance to a friendship that deeply influenced Scholem's own life. Sabbatei Sevi: The Mystical Messiah can be read as an allegory of a story later recounted in Walter Benjamin: the Story of a Friendship. Both authored by one of the 20th century's master textual interpreters, the "ventriloquist" projected his voice into the figure of Nathan, Benjamin's into Sevi. There are many parallels joining the two books. Scholem gave Benjamin and Sevi a similar appearance, oddly analogous sexual problems, and an almost identical psychology: both were ingenious, self-destructive melancholies. The parallels between Nathan and Scholem are just as striking. For Scholem, both were committed scholars, experts in Lurianic Kabbalah; and both looked to an older charismatic figure as a model. For this paper, the similarity I want to explore is Nathan's and Scholem's various responses to the "apostasy" of the men they most admired: Sevi and Walter Benjamin. I will begin with the story of Sevi and his prophet. The basic story may be well known. Here I only want to describe the central drama. Sevi was a genius who, due to the prompting of a brilliant young scholar named Nathan of Gaza, accepted the role of Messiah in 1666. For a time it looked as if the Jewish world would have its messiah and the messiah would have his prophet, Nathan. But Sevi was a deeply flawed genius. Even if he moved the world with his charisma, he could never move outside of himself. He remained a prisoner of his "psychic rhythm with its ups and downs." More seriously, he wholly lacked both the moral fiber and the real desire to change the world. Though he accepted the office of Messiah, he never quite knew was this entailed. Proclaimed Messiah in 1666, he began to give himself to increasingly "bizarre and strange acts." Moved by a "dizzy whirl of illuminate exaltation," the Messiah's "enthusiastic and eschatological transvaluation of values" stirred up opposition among traditional Jewish leaders; his "nihilism" also caught the attention of the Sultan, who threatened him with death unless he converted to Islam. Without much thought, Sevi donned a turban—the sign of conversion— and turned to Mecca in his prayers. 7 The world's and Nathan's dreams were shattered. It was the prophet Nathan who saved the message from the wayward ways of the genius. T o do so Nathan undertook what Scholem called a "dialectical explosion within traditional linguistic and conceptual usage." 8 Nathan proved himself a master at symbol-making. Through his "allegorical and typological method" he made full use of the ancient rabbinic adage that "scripture has seventy different meanings...." Nathan "combined whatever notions and texts served his purpose," filling traditional images and figures of speech with new

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Here Scholem cited Margarete Susman. See: Gershom Scholem, Judaica 2 (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1977), 204. Sevi, 853. Ibid, 803.

contents. 9 His "audacious and novel ... exegedcal m e t h o d " often inverted the original meaning of texts. 10 And where the ancient texts failed to yield what "exegedcal ingenuity and ardent faith required of them, they were, on occasion, misquoted or falsified." 11 Nathan's "diligent search of ancient texts ... yielded a profusion of hidden allusions that the Messiah would have to apostatize." 12 I would n o w like to turn to Scholem's story of Benjamin, where a remarkably related drama unfolds. Scholem met Walter Benjamin in 1915, who dazzled him by the ingenious "sparks that often flew out f r o m his dark thoughts." Older and intellectually far more mature, Benjamin had by then already developed many of the basic tenets of his later philosophy, a philosophy of language that was to uncover the "secrets" of being. Benjamin freely shared his views with his eager new friend. By the end of the next year scattered conversations began to pull the young scholar into the older man's orbit. Scholem n o w looked upon Benjamin as his spiritual and intellectual mentor. What impressed him most was a hand-written draft to an essay he received from Benjamin in October of 1916. The treatise, " O n Languages as Such and on the Languages of Man," added a mythic foundation to Benjamin's emerging thought. Judging from Scholem's diaries and letters, after he read and absorbed Benjamin's letter he began to reinterpret his Jewish "ideas" according to a Benjaminian method. When he tried to translate the essay into Hebrew he felt overwhelmed by a series of "miracles." He transcribed it, typed it up, and gave out copies to friends. Particular terms that appeared in it n o w became permanent features of his new vocabulary. During this period, Scholem decided to "go with Benjamin." He began to devoted himself to the "theory of language in the Kabbalah." 13 The young scholar also began to see in him a "tremendous prophetic, "moral" and "spiritual" figure.14 He even spoke of an experience of "positive redemption (.Erlösungj)."15 T o illustrate his "purity and absoluteness," Scholem likened him to a traditional rabbinical scholar (Schriftgelehrte) who, finding himself in a secular world, seeks out his Text (Schrift).16 " O t h e r than my friend, I know of no one else who, not only through the ingeniousness of what he knows, but also through the perfect purity of his being, can become such a teacher to me." He praised in particular Benjamin's method of commentary, rooted assumed —his younger friend—in Benjamin's interest in "Hebrew texts of Jewish literature, whose commentary represented for him a kind of Utopian point or refuge." 17 The excitement did not last long, though. Scholem's writings on Benjamin narrate a story of failed expectations, bitterness, misunderstanding, and ultimately tragedy. Benjamin's "attraction to the world of Judaism remained an 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

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Ibid, 721. Ibid., 814. Ibid,m. Ibid, 720. Scholem, G . 1976. Walter benjamin: Die Geschichte einer Freundschaft. F r a n k f u r t , 107. Ibid., 69. Briefe, XI. Freundschaft, 70. Ibid., 157.

abstraction"; he "denied" his true calling.18 After 1927 began a period of "disappointments, crises, twists and turns." Due to his "restlessness" Benjamin repeatedly set off on journeys, though not to Palestine. 19 And instead of learning Hebrew, he went to an island with his Communist lover. Brecht and Theodor Adorno, not Scholem, were his closest collaborators. With this, commented Scholem, Benjamin disavowed all the "hopes of earlier years ...." He "no longer" wanted to have a "true confrontation with Judaism." 20 Benjamin committed suicide after the Nazi invasion of France. He hence never made it to Palestine and could never develop the new theology Scholem hoped for. Scholem, however, devoted much of later career to assuring that the "message" survived the tragedy. Beginning in the early 1960s, he worked hard at getting Benjamin's works known. Indeed, all of Scholem's clearly non-scholarly works—Walter Benjamin: The Story of a Friendship, From Berlin to Jerusalem (1977), and the Correspondence of Walter Benjamin and Gershom Scholem (1980)—were in part devoted to this cause. He even identified materialism as a "disguise" (Verkleidung hiding Benjamin's "true and substantial" beliefs. Since materialism functioned as a mere heuristic principle, Benjamin's "metaphysical source and spirit (Quellgeisi) continued to unfold." 21 Brecht notwithstanding, he remained "instinctively" "oriented towards Jewish ideas." 22 Benjamin continued to nurture his "true" Jewish self; he clung to his "messianic beliefs" in religion, philosophy, and literature; he remained in "constant reliance upon Jewish categories, visible to the very end in all of his writings." He remained a "genius of pure metaphysics," a "theologian marooned in the profane." 23 Judaism "consciously" endured as the "foundation of his being ... and ultimate aim of his thought." "Like the Kabbalists, [he] experienced through language the deepest connection to true theological thinking." 24 In both the case of Sevi/Nathan and Benjamin/Scholem, a weak and flawed and ultimately tragic messianic figure was redeemed by a brilliant friend, who turned tragedy and personal loss into a powerful new Jewish myth. This, I suggest, is the deepest and most interesting link between the two books. In 1978 Hayden White declared that "there have been no significant attempts at surrealistic, expressionistic, or existentialist historiography." 25 If the above reading is correct and Scholem combined his expertise as an historian and philologist with autobiography, Sabbatei Sevi can be seen as an early example of "existentialist" historiography. Scholem's method of speaking through history also confirms the judgement of one other historian, that "the metaphorical dimension in historiography is more powerful than the literal or factual dimensions." 26 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

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Ibid, 286. Ibid., 222. Ibid., 201. Ibid., 210. Judaica 2, 220. Ibid, 212. Ibid, 219. Hayden, W. 1978. " T h e Burden of History." Tropics of Discourse: Essays in Cultural Criticism, Baltimore: J o h n s I lopkins University Press, 42,3. Ankersmit, F. R. 1989. "Historiography and Postmodernism." History and Theory 28, 152.

" M I S S I O N OF M E R C Y " AND T H E S H I P THAT C A M E T O O LATE A M E R I C A N J E W I S H M E D I C A L RELIEF T O PALESTINE DURING WORLD W A R I SANDY SUFIAN N e w Y o r k University, U S A &

SHIFRA SHVARTS B e n G u r i o n U n i v e r s i t y , Israel

Story of Sterling O n February of 1916, an American ship named the U.S. Collier Sterling set sail from Norfolk, Virginia for Jaffa, Palesdne. It carried 87 cases of medical supplies worth about $18,000' and 95 cases of Matzot in order to relieve the starvad o n and disease within the fledgling Jewish community of Palesdne during World War One. 2 T h e Sterling, however, never got there. Its mission was cut off. A mission iniriated and funded by the American Jewish community and aided by the State and Navy Departments of the United States of America. A mission, as it was argued by the Secretary of the Joint Distribudon Committee to the Assistant Secretary of State Phillips at the time (1916), that was "of the highest importance to the whole of the inhabitants of that country (noncombatants) irrespective of race and creed." 3 Instead of Palestine, the Sterling arrived at Naples, Italy where the majority of its supplies were transferred to a merchant steamer which then sailed to Alexandria, Egypt. 4 T h e medicines and matzot were then held there indefinitely. This was at first, due to the French blockade on the Eastern Mediterranean. After continual diplomacy between American Jewish leaders, such as Oscar Straus and Jacob Schiff, 5 as well as the

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This was a huge amount of money considering that an American physician's annual salary during this time was $2000. O n e kilo of sugar cost 5 francs in Palestine during this time. O n e kilo of Quinine was 240 francs in Palestine. O n e dollar was equivalent to 5 francs = 20 pennies English m o n e y = 20 Turkish grush. Letter from Lucas to Commandant and other officers of the United States Navy Yard. February 14, 1916. J D C AR 1418.120-155/4/123. Letter from Lucas to William Phillips, Assistant Secretary of State. Feb. 4, 1916. J D C AR 1418.120-155/4/123. The leftover portion of its supplies, mosdy some cases of matzos, were thrown overboard because the steam carrier did not have enough room. Press Notice. J D C AR 1418.120-155/4/123.

American, French and British governments, 6 the blockade was specially lifted for the landing of these supplies at Jaffa. The story of the Sterling raises the following historical questions: What was the general context and historical background which compelled such an endeavor to be undertaken? Why would the American government become so intricately involved in this particular mission? W h o were the main actors in such a project? What is the significance of the story of the Sterling for the future of American medical assistance/participation, especially Jewish aid, to Palestine? The authors of this article propose three main points: first, that as far as we know this mission was one of the first cases that presents the American use of medicine for a dual purpose—one of humanitarianism and the other for preserving economic interests in Palestine; 7 second, that this endeavor illustrated the political strength of the American Jewish community and their ability to join forces with and exert pressure on the American government on behalf of Palestinian Jewry; and third, most importandy, that this relief work set the stage, both in an organizational and ideological sense, for the implementation of the American Zionist Medical Unit, later known as Hadassah Medical Organization. The case of the mission, we argue, helps re-contextualize the historical emergence of the American Zionist Medical Unit. 8

General Background and Sterling Story The Sterling set sail due to letters from Jewish hospitals in Jerusalem and local Jewish leaders that requested food, medicine and general relief funds. As early as August 1914, Ambassador Morgenthau sent a letter to Jacob Schiff, a leader in the American Jewish community stating: "The Jews of Palestine confront a terrible crisis. Funds from Europe have ceased. Serious destruction threatens the setdements. 50,000 dollars is needed." 9 Indeed between the years 1915-1917, there was a desperate lack of doctors in Palestine, typhus and starvation were rife and a cholera epidemic had occurred. These conditions later led to extremely high mortality rates, resulting in the loss of about 25% of the entire Jewish population in Palestine. From 88,000 Jews in Palestine at the beginning of the war, only 55,000 remained in 1918 due to death and dislocation. With the eruption of war, the collapse of all the institutions in Palestine, and the subsequent discontinuation of foreign charity, the Yishuv (the Jewish com6

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See Letter f r o m Alvey Adee, Second Assistant Secretary to Lucas. April 8, 1916. J D C AR 1418.120-155/4/123. During the negotiation process with the French and British governments, Schiff invoked the Geneva Convention in order to convince them of their obligation. T h e Vulcan (1915) and Tennessee (1915) both sailed before the Sterling but they delivered mainly foodstuffs and money. T h e Vulcan delivered a very small amount of medicine (1,500 dollars worth). This argument serves as an addendum, due to new information and research, to an article by Shvarts, S. and Brown, T. 1998. " K u p a t Holim, Dr. Isaac Max Rubinow and the American Zionist Medical Unit's Experiment to Establish Health Care Services in Palestine, 1918-1923." Bulletin of the Histoiy ofMedicine 72,1, 28-46. Letter f r o m Morgenthau to J a c o b Schiff. August 31, 1914. Schiff Archives AJA, File 438 in Efrati, N. 1991. The ]ewish community in Ere t^Israel during World War I (1914-1918). Jerusalem: Yad Ben Zvi Publications, 19.

munity in Palestine) had only one possible realistic source for outside assistance—the Jewish community in America. Turning to America was based on previous American involvement in the area.10 The Yishuv, for its part, knew that the Ottoman government would not allow relief monies to enter Palestine by private means but only through internationally recognized channels. It was therefore clear to both the American Jewish community and the Yishuv that the cooperation of the State Department was the key factor in the success of their endeavor. O n January 24, 1915, the first telegram arrived to the State department in Washington from the Alexandria Palestine Committee describing the difficult health situation in Palestine." This telegram provided a direct plea to the "American nation" from the Yishuv to use its‫ ׳‬influence to save Jewish setdements in Palestine. The telegram was immediately published and only four days later, American Jewish leaders arranged a private meeting with the Secretary of State to demand a promise from the State Department to take action. In order to confirm the claims set forth by the Yishuv, William Bryan, then Secretary of State, requested in a personal message to Henry Morgenthau and to Captain Decker of the U. S. Tennessee to report on the situation in Palestine, alerting them not to rely on Ottoman reports. Thus, Captain Decker visited Jewish leaders and the American consuls in Palestine and Alexandria in February 1915 to confirm the reports and to transport seven hundred Jews, (mosdy Russian), from Palestine to Alexandria. 12 F r o m that point on, a solid commitment was made by the United States to engage in a joint venture with the American Jewish community to aid Jews in Palestine. This is where the story of the Sterling comes in. The Sterling was one of several American ships that carried medical relief supplies, monies, and food to Palestine in order to help the sufferers in the war. By the time the Sterling arrived at Naples, some of its medicines were already lost due to rough seas. 13 At Naples, arrangement was made for the shipment of the medicine to Alexandria via merchant steamer. O n August 19, 1916, the French government finally consented to the free passage of medical supplies to Jaffa. 14 Landing of the medical supplies, however, did not immediately occur with this approval. The reason for the delay lay in an accompanying plan to transport 10

T h e American Jewish community could have turned to the Rockefeller Foundation to undertake this endeavor since that organization was involved in similar affairs all over the world. Doing so, however, meant funds could not be specifically designated to the Jewish community in Palestine. Thus they chose to turn direcdy to the American government in order have more direct control over the recipients of their monies and supplies and to p r o m o t e specific Jewish interests in Pales tine.

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Alexandria Palestine Committee to Secretary of State, Washington DC. January 24, 1915. US National Archives. M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 . Copy sent to Nathan Straus and Lewin-Epstein. Telegram from American Ambassador of Constantinople to Secretary of State. January 27, 1915. US National Archives. M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 . See also "Report on Conditions in Palestine with reference to Zionism." T o Secretary of Navy, Daniels f r o m Decker. February 10, 1915. Confidential. US National Archives M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 . Letter f r o m Ellis, Lieutenant Commander USN of Sterling to Engelman. April 15, 1916. J D C AR 1418.120-155/4/123. Letter f r o m Jusserand, Ambassador of French Republic to Straus. August 19, 1916. J D C AR1418. 1 2 0 - 1 5 5 / 4 / 1 2 3 .

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wives and children of US citizens (mainly Jewish) out of Palestine on the same ship that was to deliver the medical goods. This type of operation had been done before in 1915 on the US ships Tennessee, Chester and Des Moines. 15 Implementation of this plan required intense negotiations with the Turks—but as Albert Lucas, Secretary of the J D C , wrote: "Leave no stone unturned to accomplish both (taking the citizens out and delivering the medicine) of these acts of mercy. In accomplishing them the United States will have the right to feel that it has served humanity; for these are humanitarian interests in the highest sense." 16 So the US Des Moines was instructed to proceed to Alexandria to take the medicine and bring it to Jaffa. 17 O n November 14 th , 1916 it was ready to do so but it, along with the US Collier Caesar (also involved in relief delivery), was interned at Alexandria until official permission for the departure of US citizens could be secured. Once America entered the war in April 1917, the chance to transport the medicine became impossible. 18 By September, 1917 no transportation of medicine or people had occurred. Contrary to our initial understanding as well as the findings of several secondary sources about the arrival of these medicines, documentation from the US National Archives shows that it was only a few days afier Allenby's entrance into Jerusalem in mid-December 1 9 of 1917 that the Des Moines and Caesar actually landed the medical supplies at Jaffa. 20 The ships had come too late but the medicines were still desperately needed. 21 From the time the medical supplies were boarded on the Sterling until they actually arrived in Jaffa, almost two years had passed.

American Interests and Jewish influence As the Secretary for the Joint Distribution Committee, Albert Lucas, called the whole expedition, the relief effort of the J D C and the American State Department was first and foremost a "Mission of Mercy." 22 T h e American government used this incident as a way to promote its pursuit of "life , liberty and happiness" 23 abroad. It saw itself as the only country that could "render this great

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Transporting Jews out of Palestine was permitted due to the Capitulations. Letter to Brylawski f r o m Lucas. August 30, 1916. J D AR 1418.120-155/4/123. T h e Des Moines took over four hundred Jewish immigrants f r o m Jaffa to Crete and Alexandria in September 1915. See p. 3 Blakely of Des Moines to Secretary of the Navy. "Movements of the USS D e s Moines-Mediterranean." US National Archives. R G 4 5 / 1 0 8 6 / 1 . N o v e m b e r 2, 1915. Instead, efforts were made for a Spanish ship to take the medicine f r o m the D e s Moines for Jaffa but this too was n o t possible. Around December 17*, 1917. Telegram. State Department to Joint Distribution Committee December 17, 1917. US National Archives. M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 5 2 . Shiloni states that the period f r o m late 1917 until the end of the war posed an exceptionally difficult health situation for the Jews of Palestine. Shiloni, Z. 1991. "Health Services in Jerusalern." In Siege and Distress: Erct^ Israel during the First World War. Ed. M. Eliav. Jerusalem: Yad Ben Tzvi, 81-82. O c t o b e r 1918 the health situation of the entire area finally improved. Lucas, A. " T h e 'Des Moines' and the 'Caesar' are Impotent." Letter to the Editor, New York Tribune. March 7,1917, 5. J D C AR 1 4 1 8 . 5 3 - 1 2 0 / 3 / 8 2 - 2 . Ibid., 1.

humanitarian service." 24 Its humanitarian objectives, however, did not stop at the level of general sentiment but could be seen in the particular attention this issue was given by individual diplomats including Consul Glazebrook, Ambassador Elkus, and even President Wilson. Furthermore, both American Ambassadors Morgenthau and Elkus took a personal interest in trying to save the Jewish population in Palestine. They called private meetings with Ottoman govemmental and local leaders in January 1917 in order to persuade them to permit the landing of medical supplies at Jaffa. 25 Indeed, in June 1917, President Wilson called for Morgenthau to head a commission to go to Palestine in order to distribute relief and to assess what measures could be taken to ameliorate the situation. 26 The operation was eventually aborted but the plan illustrates the extent to which the American government was dedicated to the relief of the Jews. Although the United States government did extend its relief efforts to other sufferers abroad during this time, including the Armenian and Syrian populations, it seems that this particular mission was given special care. 27 The unique treatment of the Palestinian issue by American diplomats was further influenced by certain powerful figures within the American Jewish community w h o diligentiy negotiated with the State Department in order to achieve their goal. Jewish figures like Jacob Schiff, Felix Warburg, Jacob DeHaas, Henrietta Szold, Judah Magnes and Justices Mack, Marshall and Brandeis frequendy corresponded with State Department officials and the President himself in order to put pressure and secure assistance for the relief effort. In addition, it was fortunate that some of the American dignitaries in Palestine and Turkey, like Oscar Straus, Abraham Elkus, and Henry Morgenthau, were Jewish and so they consciously promoted relief efforts for the Yishuv. This correspondence, and the effects it had upon American policy, displays the extent of American Jewish political influence during this period. Protecting economic investments was another reason for the American backing of this venture. The case of Nathan Straus provides an interesting look into the intersection of Jewish social aid and American economic interests in the Holy Land—a convergence which added to the possibility and practical fulfillment of these relief efforts. Nathan Straus was the brother of former Congressman Isador Straus and former Ambassador to Constantinople, Oscar

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Letter f r o m Bryan, Secretary of State, to the Secretary of the Treasury. March 5, 1915. US National Archives M353/867.48/51. Letter f r o m Elkus to Schiff. Personal and Private. January 18, 1917. J D C AR 1 4 1 8 . 5 3 - 1 2 0 / 3 / 8 2 - 2 and Press Release of House of Representatives. December 18, 1916. J D C AR 1418.531 2 0 / 3 / 8 2 - 1 for information about his additional work regarding the Caesar. Felix Frankfurter was supposed to accompany Morgenthau on this mission. The J D C promised unlimited funds to Morgenthau for distribution during the visit. See New York Times J u n e 20 and 21, 1917. Public Records Office. F O 371/3055/40642. T h e British, for their part, commented that Wilson was really calling the commission for political reasons—in order to "gratify Morgenthau's ambitions and to give his energies convenient vent." Colville Barclay to Balfour. J u n e 26,1917. P R O . F O 371/3055/40642. See Letter f r o m Elkus to Schiff. Personal and Private. January 18, 1917. J D C AR 1418.53120/3/82-2.

Straus. 28 Active in health issues both in N e w York City and Palestine and coowner with his brothers of Macy's and A & S department stores, he frequendy requested that reports be made about the status of his Health Bureau and soup kitchens in Jerusalem. 29 These reports were encouraged by the State Department since they were viewed as important for learning about American social and financial activities in Palestine. It should be noted too, that Nathan Straus was one of the first major financial contributors to the American Jewish relief effort in Palestine, due in part, to maintaining his already-established ventures there. 30 Worries were also expressed regarding the Agricultural Experiment Station at Adit, which was registered as an American institution and owned by several N e w York citizens, including Nathan Straus. The Station did cooperative research with the United States Ministry of Agriculture and was therefore perceived as an important American agricultural and economic investment. 31 The Anglo-Palestine Bank was yet another institution that received particular American attention. Closed by the Turks in January 1915 as a distinct measure against the Zionists, the Bank contained about one million francs deposited by various American individuals and organizations, including Hadassah money designated for nursing work in Jerusalem. 32 Zionist and American interests converged on the issue of the Bank. Captain Decker in his original report to Wilson recognized that "where American interests are mixed with Zionist affairs, those interests are jeopardized..." 33 Indeed it is not by chance that during his visit to Palestine in 1915, Decker was instructed to focus on American interests and there-

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Isador Straus was the oldest of the three Straus boys. H e owned Macy's and A &S department stores with his brothers, served in Congress from 1893-1895 and died with his wife o n the Titanic in 1912. Oscar Straus, the youngest, was appointed minister to Turkey in 1887-1889 and then f r o m 1897-1899 when he succeeded in restoring American interests there and secured the rights of American missionaries in the O t t o m a n Empire. In 1902, President Roosevelt appointed him to the Permanent Court of Arbitration at T h e Hague and in 1906, Secretary of Commerce and Labor. Oscar was the first Jew to enter the American cabinet. F r o m 1909-1910 he served as Ambassador to Constantinople.. "Straus Family" in Dictionary ofJewish Biography. Ed. Wigoder, G . Simon and Schuster. N e w York, 1991, 502-504. Nathan Straus was the middle of the three sons. H e was educated in business and joined his older brother in the Macy's and A & S endeavor. In 1898, he served as president of the N e w York Board of Health. Nathan was devoted to pasteurization of milk and built milk stations for p o o r children throughout the US, Germany, Palestine, Cuba and the Philippines. During WW1, he distributed milk to the US Forces. As a strong supporter of Zionism, Straus established a Health Bureau in 1912 as well as the Pasteur Institute. In 1920, he endowed health centers in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. See "Straus Family." In Wigoder, 1991. G. Dictionary of Jewish Biography. N e w York: Simon and Schuster, 502. Morgenthau's speech at Glazebrook reception sponsored by J D C for his cooperation in Jewish relief efforts in Palestine as American consul. December 23, 1917. J D C AR1418/ 2 / 2 4 . Telegram by Bryan, Secretary of State to Embassy at Constantinople. February 1, 1915. US National Archives M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 . T h e American Ambassador tried to get the Turks to reopen the Bank but I am not sure of the results. American Ambassador to Secretary of State. January 29, 1915. US National Archives M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 . T h e US N o r t h Carolina delivered Hadassah money that was deposited in the Anglo-Palestine Bank and then confiscated it on N o v e m b e r 2, 1914. Letter f r o m Szold to Wise. January 15, 1915. US National Archives. M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 . See also Wise to Secretary of State. January 15, 1915 of same file. Decker to Wilson. February 9, 1915. US National Archives M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 .

fore requested to meet speafically with leaders involved with the Zionist movement, the Agricultural Station and the Anglo-Palestine Bank. 34 During their meeting, the Zionists requested that Decker transmit to President Wilson an appeal to save Zionism. Decker complied and noted his admiration for the movement. Thus, indirect, unofficial support for the Zionist endeavor, mosdy due to shared economic interests, proved to be an additional motivation for American help." The American Jewish community, for their part, showed exceptional unity and command in their relief efforts in Palestine and around the world. The main organ for Jewish relief during World War One, the Joint Distribution Committee, served as the umbrella organization for three constituent committees: the American Jewish Relief Committee, the Central Committee for the Relief of Jews and the Jewish People's Relief of America. 36 T h e Joint provided food and money to those Jewish victims in war zones and Palestine was one of their main target communities. A m o n g other Jewish leaders that were already mentioned, the Joint's Secretary, Albert Lucas and lawyer, Fulton Brylawski wielded important influence with the State Department and negotiated constandy with them in order to secure the transport of relief supplies for Palestine. The extreme tenacity and drive of American Jewish leaders as well as their success in raising sufficient funds for their brethren, led the Director General of the American Red Cross to note: "The liberality with which the Jewish people of the United States have contributed for the relief of their people ... has been such as to make all the rest of us blush with shame." 37 President Wilson recognized the Jewish victims of the war and gave his support for American Jewish relief efforts when he declared January 27—February 4, 1917 the Week of Mercy, a week during which American citizens were called upon to contribute to that particular purpose. 38

Foundation for the American Zionist Medical Unit Finally, and most importandy, Jewish medical and general relief efforts during the War set the stage for the eventual arrival of the American Zionist Medical Unit (AZMU) to Palestine in August 1918.39 The Unit was conceived of in July

34 35

36 37

38 39

Decker to Secretary of the Navy. February 7, 1915. US National Archives M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 . "Report on Conditions in Palestine with reference to Zionism." Confidential. T o Daniels from Decker,. 20. US National Archives M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 4 3 . By September 1915, American institutions had invested forty million dollars in Turkey and real estate and equipment valued at eight million dollars. Letter from Foreign Secretary, James Barton, to Secretary of State Lansing. September 18, 1915. US National Archives. M353/867.48/51. J D C to New York County Chapter, American Red Cross. July 10, 1917. J D C AR 1418/ 2/48. Letter f r o m Ernest Bicknell, Director General of Civilian Relief of the American Red Cross to Albert Lucas. N o v e m b e r 29, 1916. J D C AR 1418/2/47. "Week of Mercy." J D C AR 1418/2/50. T h e Unit left N Y on J u n e 11,1918 and landed in Jaffa on August 17, 1918. See p. 3 of American Zionist Medical Unit for Palestine Report. February 13, 1919. J D C AR 1418.120-155/4/124. T h e Unit was one of four medical units to be sent through the American Red Cross. There were some hesitation amongst the British to send the Red Cross Units due to possible Arab response but the Zionist Unit was considered welcomed. President Wilson, however, was against the sail-

1916 as a response to the typhus epidemic and lack of doctors in Palestine. 40 In January 1913, Hadassah sent two nurses in Palestine to perform sanitary and clinical work. In February 1915 (same time as Sterling), both Hadassah nurses returned to the US for personal reasons, leaving Bertha Kagan and Albert Ticho of the LeMaan Eye Clinic as the main Hadassah doctors in the country at the time. Hadassah also supplied a nurse for Palestinian Jewish refugees in Alexandria. See "Hadassah" press release. July 20, 1916. US National Archives M 3 5 3 / R G 5 / 5 2 . It was originally supposed to set sail on the US Des Moines with additional medicines on the US Caesar—but the mission was suspended because of American's breaking off of relations with Turkey and its entrance into the War. 41 See Letter from Szold to Louis Marshall. September 13, 1917. J D C AR 1418.53-120/3/58. Waiting in Palestine for both the Sterling's medical supplies and the Medical Unit, were several local, Jewish committees established in October 1914 to distribute general supplies to the Yishuv. Local Palestinian political leaders, rabbis and doctors in the Yishuv, including those in the Old Yishuv and Zionist communities, commonly participated. American consuls in Palestine were supposed to oversee these committees and receive periodic reports of their activities. 42

ing of the Zionist Unit because he claimed the US was not yet at war with Turkey. P R O February 6, 1918. F O 371/3392/40642. O n May 15, 1918, however, he officially recognized and granted permission for the A Z M U to sail. Memo by Sokolow to DeHaas. May 22, 1918. P R O F O 371/3392/40642. T h e Unit may have been conceived of as an alternative to the Sterling's delivery of medicine because it was at this d m e at the Sterling was unable to pass the French blockade. Indeed, a letter f r o m Alvey Adee, Second Assistant Secretary of State gives deHaas approval to talk to the French Ambassador about the sending of the Unit and additional medicines. This discussion could well have been in conjunction with negotiations to open the blockade for the Sterling's medicines. Letter f r o m Adee to deHaas. August 4, 116. US National Archives M 3 3 / R G 5 9 / 5 2 . If it was not an alternative, it was definitely conceived of as a needed addition.

41

42

T h e Unit, proposed by the Zionist Provisional Committee but later financially administered by the Joint, was to consist of ten doctors and four nurses. Letter from Jacob deHaas to Frank Polk, Acting Secretary of State. July 20, 1916. US National Archives M353/867.48/51. See also Extract of minutes of meeting of J D C J u n e 18, 1917. J D C AR 1418.53-120/3/120(2). In another letter f r o m deHaas to Polk, he notes that Hadassah, "the subordinate organization," was charged with organizing the unit. Letter f r o m DeHaas to Polk. July 24, 1916. US National Archives. M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 5 2 . Palestine was the first country into which it was possible for the Joint to send this kind of war relief. Press Notice of Felix. Warburg. August 1918. J D C AR 1418.120155/4/124. Reports at the time f r o m Palestine stated that there were only four doctors in Jaffa, four in Jerusalem and none in the colonies, including doctors of all races. Letter to Lucas f r o m Magnes. February 20, 1917, 2. By the time the A Z M U sailed, fourteen physicians in departments of medicine, surgery, pathology, pediatrics, skin, obstetrics, gynecology, eye, ear, nose and throat and orthopedics plus a sanitarian and sanitary engineer, bacteriologist, three dentists, a pharmacist and twenty trained nurses were included in the Unit. Letter to Lucas from Szold. May 28, 1918. J D C AR1418.120-155/4/124. Djemal Pasha, in December 1916, refused to grant permission for the Unit to land in Palestine because he claimed there were n o epidemics and unusual illnesses. He claimed that Ruppin conferred but Ruppin (expelled to Constantinople at the time) wrote saying that he this was not true. Letter f r o m Phillips, Third Assistant Secretary to DeHaas. December 19, 1916. US National Archives M 3 5 3 / R G 5 9 / 5 2 . See also Letter f r o m DeHaas to Phillips. February 31, 1917. Ibid See Ruppin's suggestions for reorganization of committee protocol. P. 3 Palestine-Relief. J D C .

3 / 1 2 0 - 2 . Problems with enforcement of guidelines, however, often occurred. The nature of the distribution system reflected the contours of Jewish social divisions in Palestine. At the beginning stages of distribution, religious and non religious elements of the committees, especially in Jerusalem, were at extreme odds with each other. Distrust and suspicion between what Ruppin, w h o later head of the Land Setdement department of the Palestine Zionist Executive, termed the "Orthodox and Modernist" contingents continued until the end of the war. 43 Yet as the situation in Palestine worsened, there were instances where the committees turned out to be an arena for inter-Jewish cooperation. Guidelines for distribution paid particular attention not to discriminate between observant Jews and non-observant ones as well as between communities coming from different countries of origin or ethnicity. Complaints regarding corruption and the non compliance of these provisions, however, were frequendy made. It should be noted that although the Joint's distribution motto was "irrespective of race and creed," the large majority of relief supplies were designated to the Jewish community with a smaller portion being distributed to the Palestinian Muslim and Christian populations. 44 In general, little reference is made to the economic and health status of the Palestinian Arab community in the documents relating to relief work. Even though the war primarily hurt the Jewish setdement, thousands of Arabs died from epidemics and starvation as well.45 Towards the end of the war, a new system of distributing general relief was established that was more sensitive to people's worsened economic position and ideology. Towards the end at the war, the Zionists gained control of relief distribution and at the very end of the war, they were officially recognized by the British to fulfill such a task.46 Recipients of relief supplies and monies included soup kitchens, hospitals, orphanages, insane asylums, schools, andyeshivot. The existence of a distribution system and of a group of people in Palestine already experienced in such work, made the final arrival of the Unit easier and the work more efficient. Indeed the A Z M U was organized during the war and under war conditions and was therefore originally intended to perform medical relief work. Shordy before its arrival, plans for the Unit expanded in scope and size, adding to its staff and equipment and—as Henrietta Szold remarked— with the intention of making itself a more permanent presence in Palestine's AR1418.53-120/

43

44 45

46

Palestine-Relief. A. Ruppin. P. 2. Extract from letter received through Ambassador Elkus. January 6, 1917. J D C . AR 1 4 1 8 . 5 3 - 1 2 0 / 3 / 1 2 0 - 2 . Nathan Straus' individual efforts are an exception. Kimmerling and Migdal. 1993. Palestinians: The Making of a People. New York: Free Press, 328 no.58. Comparatively, given the case of Jerusalem, the Jewish mortality rate was almost seven times that of the Muslim and Christian communities and so greater quantities of relief were in fact required by the Jewish community. Letter to Ruppin from Ticho and Kagan. December 26, 1916. J D C AR 1418.53-120/3/58. The relief effort most likely boosted Zionist political clout in Palestine after the war since they were responsible for distributing medicines/food and other supplies. The relief mission also allowed committee leaders during the war to gain more prestigious political and bureaucratic positions after the war and during the Mandate. It gave these actors, mostly Zionists again, more legitimacy in future work.

medical activities. 47 During its first months in Palestine, the Unit did in fact mainly render emergency medical aid for all of Palestine. 48 Once the British Mandate took effect, however, the A Z M U changed its function to one of reconstruction. As Rubinow, the Director of the A Z M U stated in 1922: "May I say without undue boasting that the growth of the A Z M U during the last three years from a temporary war relief organization to its present dimensions is almost unprecedented in the history of colonial work, [and] surely unprecedented in the history of the Zionist effort." 4 9

Conclusion. In conclusion, it is important to reiterate that the mission of the Sterling is not only one about relief efforts to Palestine during World War O n e but that it provides the initial basis for American Jewish medical activity in Palestine. Distribution of medical supplies, food and money as relief during the war shifted to the provision of health services after the war. In addition, the Zionists gradually gained control of relief distribution at the end of the war and were officially recognized by the British to fulfill such a task. Thus the story of the Sterling not only tells us about the extent of dedication to saving the Yishuv by both the American Government and Jewish American community, but also has significant ramifications upon the nature and future development of health services in Palestine, well-known to us today as Hadassah Medical Organization.

47

48

49

Letter f r o m Szold to Lucas. May 28, 1918, 2. J D C AR 1418.120-155/4124. U p o n its arrival, the Unit was to follow up the army and administer medical aid to the civil population. M e m o r a n d u m on Activities of A Z M U . Drs. Rosen and Kibyovich. J D C File 276. Hadassah Medical Organization Third Report. September 1920-December 1921. Jerusalem, 1922, 6. J D C File 276. See also N o t e s on meeting of Committee on Medical Affairs. January 16, 1922, 1. C o m m e n t by Heiser of IHB. J D C File 275. Letter to Flexner f r o m Rubinow. February 7, 1922, 9. J D C File 276.

SEPHARDI AMSTERDAM AND T H E EUROPEAN RADICAL E N L I G H T E N M E N T ADAM SUTCLIFFE University College London, UK T h e history of unbelief in the early m o d e r n period is a controversial and contested subject. 1 Lucien Febvre's influential argument that atheism was effectively "unthinkable" in the sixteenth century has been challenged by several historians, according to w h o m distinctively atheistic ideas did circulate amongst late Renaissance radicals, at least in France and Italy. 2 However, the speculative expression of subversively heretical ideas within Renaissance élites must be distinguished f r o m the sustained critique of religious authority which characterises the Radical Enlightenment. It has been widely noted that the collapse of religious hegemony in the eighteenth century was largely the consequence of sustained attrition f r o m the intense polemical combat between competing theological camps since the Reformation. Dispute between Protestants and Catholics, and between rival groups within these two traditions, was ultimately deeply corrosive of Christian authority in general. 3 If the confrontation of opposing systems of religious belief is acknowledged as an important causal factor in the emergence of secularism, then the experience of the seventeenth-century northern E u r o p e a n Sephardi diaspora is in this context particularly interesting. After several generations of at least outward observance of Catholicism, those Marranos w h o setded in Hamburg, Amsterdam and a few other N o r t h Sea setdements f r o m the 1590s onwards were able for the first time to live openly as Jews. Most of these migrants quickly conformed, at least nominally, to orthodox Judaism, and accepted the authority of the newly-formed Jewish communal structures. However, not all arrivals immediately accepted the differences between the rabbinically enforced Judaism they discovered in northern E u r o p e and the Judaeo-Catholicism with which they were familiar. Internal dissent was to some extent c o m p o u n d e d by external influences: D u t c h and G e r m a n Protestants responded to the Sephardim in a very different way f r o m the inquisitorial Catholics of the Iberian peninsula. In Amsterdam in particular, the high degree of interest in Judaism in some Protestant circles led in some cases to a relatively high level of intellectual contact between

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2

3

See Wootton, D. 1992. " N e w Histories of Atheism." In Atheism from the Reformation to the Enlightenment. Ed. M. Hunter and D. Wootton. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 13-53. See Febvre, L. 1982 [1942]. The Problem of Unbelief in the Sixteenth Century. Trans. Beatrice Gottlieb. Cambridge Mass.: Harvard University Press; Davidson, N. 1992. "Unbelief and Atheism in Italy, 1500-1700." In Hunter and Wootton, Atheism. 56-75; Berriot, F. 1976. Atheismes et Athéistes au XVI Siècle en France. Lille: Cerf. See, e.g., Kors, A. 1990. Atheism in France, 1650-1729. Princeton: Princeton University Press, I, 265-379.

Jews and Protestants. In the middle third of the century both communities experienced a parallel phenomenon of heightened religious instability and millenarian excitement, culminating amongst the Jews with the Shabbatai Zevi affair of 1665-6. Dutch Sephardi Jewry in the mid seventeenth century was a theologically and economically unstable community, 4 within which there was an unprecedentedly high degree of awareness of the differences and tensions between Jewish, Catholic and Protestant beliefs. It is not surprising that the key thinker of the Early Enlightenment, Baruch Spinoza, should emerge from this particularly disputatious, intense and intellectually multi-faceted communal background. Spinoza's early non-Jewish admirers portrayed his expulsion from the Amsterdam Sephardi community as a confirmation of the contrast between his isolated genius and the petty-minded dogmatism of the Jewish world into which he had had the misfortune to be born. As Richard Popkin has pointed out, a similar attitude survives in much twentieth-century historiography, in which the Amsterdam community is inaccurately characterised as dominated by a "ghetto mentality." 5 More generally, it is widely assumed that until the beginnings of the Haskalah in the late eighteenth century—a belated "Jewish Enlightenment"— European Jewry was largely oblivious to the wider intellectual climate that surrounded it. However, the Sephardim of western Europe were far from isolated from the impact of the Enlightenment, and in the early eighteenth century increasingly absorbed the fashions and values of the prevailing secular culture. 6 As Jonathan Israel has argued, the declining respect for rabbinic authority and traditional scholarship in this period was symptomatic of a more general communal crisis in the face of the Enlightenment. 7 However, Sephardi intellectual life in the immediate pre-Enlightenment period, especially in Amsterdam, was characterised by a vibrancy and dynamism strikingly in contrast with this later crisis. Theologico-political dissent within the community, and lively cross-fertilisation with ideas f r o m outside, produced a rich literature of theological argument, which both prefigured and direcdy influenced later non-Jewish Early Enlightenment debate. The mentality of the Sephardim of seventeenth-century northern Europe was highly intricate and distinctive. The collective psychology of the community was influenced by the complex interpénétration of Jewish and Iberian patterns of thought. 8 The members of the "Portuguese nation," as the Amsterdam community at first described itself, possessed a powerfiil sense of communal loyalty and pride, based at least as much on traditional Iberian notions of purity of blood

4

5 6

7 8

See Israel, J. 1990. "Dutch Sephardi Jewry, Millenarian Politics and the Struggle for Brazil (16401654)." In Sceptics, Millenarians and Jem. Ed. D. S. Katz and J. Israel. Leiden: Brill, 76-97. Popkin, R. H. 1977. "Spinoza and La Peyrère." The Southwestern Journal of Philosophy 8, 179-80. Israel, J. 1989. European Jewry in the Age of Mercantilism 1550-1750, 2nd edition. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 252-8. I hid, 237-62. See Popkin, R. H. 1995. "The Jews of the Netherlands in the Early Modern Period." In In and Out of the Ghetto. Ed. R. Po-Chia Hsia and H. Lehmann. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 311-6; Nahon, G. 1980. "Amsterdam, Métropole Occidentale des Sépharades au XVII s siècle." Cahiers Spinoza 3, 15—50.

and ethnic exclusivity as on a specifically religious sense of affiliation. 9 The relationship of Jewish religious practice to Jewish identity was an issue that caused some conflict in Amsterdam. O n arrival in the city, many Marranos possessed only a limited knowledge of Judaism, and religious education was therefore a major communal concern. Even amongst those who were unequivocally eager to adopt normative Judaism, dissonant concepts derived from long-standing Catholic observance often remained deeply rooted within personal systems of belief. Several migrants, however, were resistant to the imposition of an orthodox conformity on them by the Amsterdam community establishment. 10 The degree of religious heterodoxy and debate within the community is difficult to gauge, but the survival in large numbers of controversialist anti-Christian manuscripts, often written in response to the questions of doubting Marranos, suggests that theological disagreement and uncertainty was widespread. The catalogue of the Amsterdam seminary, Ets Haim, lists more than thirty manuscript copies of these texts." The composition, translation and copying of these manuscripts continued into the early eighteenth century, suggesting that theological doubt and dispute was a sustained phenomenon. Despite the vigorous efforts of community leaders to impose theological conformity through both persuasive and coercive methods, including frequent recourse to the herem (community ban), 12 a significant current of dissent survived in Sephardi Amsterdam. A sequence of bold individuals, stimulated by the range of theological and philosophical ideas accessible to them in this city, challenged the communal orthodoxy. The earliest heretic was Uriel da Costa, born in O p o r t o in about 1584, and in his youth a devout Catholic. Through private study Da Costa had developed an interest in Judaism, and emigrated to Amsterdam in order to escape the attentions of the Inquisition. However, his personal understanding of Judaism as developed in Portugal did not conform with the rabbinically disciplined Jewish life he discovered there. The publication of his Exame das Tradifoes Phariseas (1623), a trenchant attack on rabbinical authority, led to his expulsion from the synagogue under a herem. Da Costa took temporary refuge in Hamburg, and his text was burned, and was believed to be lost until in 1990 a single surviving copy was located in the Royal Library in Copenhagen. 13

9

10

" 12

13

See Bodian, M. 1994. '"Men of the Nation': T h e Shaping of Comtrso Identity in Early Modern Europe." Past and Present 143, 48-76; Weiner, G. M. 1994. "Sephardic Philo—and Anti-Semitism in the Early Modern Era." In Jewish Christians and Christian Jews. Ed. G. M. Weiner and R. H. Popkin. Dordrecht: Kluwer, 189-209. See Kaplan, Y. 1995. " D e joden in de Republiek tot omstreeks 1750." In Geschiedenis tan de Joàn in Nederland Ed. J. C. H. Blom el aL Amsterdam: Balans, 164-6. Méchoulan, H. 1991. Etre Juif à Amsterdam au temps de Spinoza. Paris: Albin Michel, 101. Kaplan, Y. 1996. Judios nuews en Amsterdam: Estudio sohre ta historia social e intelectual del judaismo sefardi en el siglo XVII. Barcelona: Gedisa, 39—42; idem, 1993. "Deviance and Community in the Eighteenth Century." In Dutch Jewish History. Vol I. Ed. J. Michman. Tel Aviv University / Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 103-5. See Salomon, H. P. 1990. "A Copy of Uriel da Costa's Exame das Tradifoes Phariseas Located in the Royal Library of Copenhagen." Studia Rasenthatiana 24, 153-68.

Da Costa's attack in his Exame is closely aimed at rabbinic authority. He repudiates the rabbinically mediated oral law, asserting that the written law alone must be paramount, and that the notion that it needs to be supplemented by an oral tradition scandalously implies that the written law alone is imperfect. 14 He attacks at length the practice of the wearing of tefillin (phylacteries) while praying, on the grounds that they are not mentioned in Scripture. The biblical verses traditionally given as the basis for this law should, he argues, be interpreted tiguratively rather than literally. " T o be in harmony with the spirit of the lawgiver," he writes, "it is necessary to understand allegorically." 15 He goes on to attack other shibboleths of the oral law, such as the dietary separation of meat and milk.16 Throughout the text, he characterises the rabbis as legalistic, unspiritual Pharisees—a stock image of Christian anti-Jewish rhetoric, undoubtedly absorbed by Da Costa during his earlier life as a practising Catholic. However, his stress on the self-sufficient perfection of the biblical text suggests the influence of Protestantism. Although there is no direct evidence of Da Costa's contacts with Protestants, it seems unlikely that a man of his religious inquisitiveness would not rapidly and easily have informed himself about Protestant theology. Already at this early stage in the history of Sephardi radicalism, the interpénétration of Jewish, Catholic and Protestant modes of thought was of crucial importance. Da Costa was most vociferously condemned not for his attack on rabbinic and Talmudic authority, but for his denial of the immortality of the soul. This doctrine, he argued, implied divine cruelty in inflicting the souls of sinners to torment in purgatory. It was also manipulated by rabbis as a metaphysical disciplining device, by deflecting attention from this world to the world to come. The soul was in truth physically present in the blood, and died together with the body. 17 This theory was immediately and vehemendy rebutted by Samuel da Silva, a doctor and member of the Hamburg community. In his Tratado da Immortalidade da Alma (1623), Da Silva throughout refers to Da Costa indirecdy as "our ignorant adversary," and argues sustainedly against his "mad opinion that the human soul dies together with the body." 18 Da Silva engages in detail with Da Costa's arguments, arguing that hope in an afterlife is not a mere distraction, but brings with it positive benefits in this life.19 At various points, D a Silva quotes Da Costa extensively, thus unintentionally ensuring that even after the mass destruction of Da Costa's own text knowledge of his ideas and arguments survived in some detail.

14

15 16 17 18 19

Uriel da Costa, 1993 [1623], Examination of Pharisaic Traditions. Trans, and ed. H. P. Salomon and I. S. D. Sassoon. Leiden: Brill, 271-2. Ibid, 290-3. Ibid, 298-9. Ibid, 416-9. Samuel da Silva, 1993 [1623], "Treatise on the Immortality of the Soul." Ibid, 427-551. Ibid, §27.

The sources for Da Costa's theory of the soul are uncertain: Servetus, Averroës and Pomponazzi have all been put forward as possible influences. 20 Da Costa's knowledge of Judaism was somewhat confused, and his use of notions such as purgatory reveal an idiosyncratic fusion of Jewish and Catholic theology. 21 Although it is impossible to identify with any confidence his formative influences, it is clear that Da Costa's heresy was a product of the clashing and mixing of the wide range of ideas to which interested ex-Marranos in Amsterdam were newly able to gain access. Alongside anxieties concerning the nature of religious authority, salvation and textual interpretation, the question of the nature of the soul became a recurrent and troublesome focus of debate within the Amsterdam community. N o fewer than five treatises asserting the immortality of the soul were written by members of the Amsterdam rabbinate between 1624 and 1640,22 as well as important later texts dealing with the theme, such as Menasseh ben Israel's Nishmat Hayyim (1652) and Raphael Moses Aguilar's brief Tratado da Immortalidade da Alma.73 The numerousness of these polemics suggest that rabbis believed that this heresy continued to circulate within the community, and required sustained refutation. Despite the suppression of his text, there was a significant level of awareness of Uriel da Costa's ideas in mid seventeenth-century Amsterdam. It can safely be assumed that the young Spinoza, who was eight years old at the time of Da Costa's suicide in 1640, would have acquired detailed knowledge of his opinions. However, Spinoza was not the only dissident in Sephardi Amsterdam in the mid 1650s. His older associate, Juan de Prado, who arrived in Amsterdam from Spain (after a brief sojourn in Hamburg) in 1655, had a communal herem pronounced upon him in February 1657, seven months after Spinoza had been similarly punished. 24 None of Prado's own writings remain extant, but it is possible to reconstruct his arguments from the three counterblasts written against them by the prominent community member Isaac Orobio de Castro (c. 1617— 1687). The first and most extensive of Orobio's tracts, of which many copies survive in manuscript, 25 reveals in its tide the essence of Prado's natural law theology: Epistola Invectiva contra Prado un Philosopho Médico que dudava 0 no creia la verdad de la divina Escntura, y pretendiô encubrir su malicia con la afectada confession de Diosj la Ley de Naturale^.26 This text was written in 1663, when rumours reached Am-

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22 23

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25 26

See Strauss, L. 1965 [1930], Spinoza's Critique of Religion. New York: Schocken, 57-58; Salomon, H. P. and Sassoon, I. S. D. 1993. "Introduction" to D a Costa Examination, 38 ff. Faur, J. 1992. In the Shadow of History: Jews and Comersos at the Dawn of Modernity. Albany: State University of New York Press, 110—41. Salomon and Sassoon 1993: 48-50. Faur 1992: 35; Dan, J. 1979. "Menasseh ben Israel's Nishmat Hayyim and the concept of Evil in seventeenth-century Jewish Thought." In Twersky, I. and Septimus, B. Jewish Thought in the Sei‫׳‬enteenth Century. Cambridge Mass. and London: Harvard University Press, 63—75. See Kaplan, Y. 1989. From Christianity to Judaism: The Story of Isaac Orobio de Castro. Oxford: O x f o r d University Press, 122-178; Révah, I. S. 1959. Spinoza et le Dr. Juan de Prado. Paris and T h e Hague: Mouton, 13-20. See Kaplan 1989: 147, 431-3. BL MS Harley 3430, 165 ff. See also a printed version in Révah 1959: 86-129.

sterdam from the Antwerp crypto-Jewish community, where Prado was then living in exile, that the heretic was prepared to recant his views. Orobio presents a detailed defence of rabbinic and Talmudic authority and of the validity of the Halakah, which we can therefore presume were for Prado central issues of contention. Most interestingly, though, Orobio also discusses abstract philosophical issues. The third chapter of his text makes the titular claim to "pruevase que la Ley de Moseh y sagrada Escritura son conforme a razon natural, y, consiguientemente, dignas de todo credito." 27 By explicidy basing his argument at this point on philosophical reason, rather than on scriptural authority, Orobio is presumably seeking to rebut an attempt by Prado to differentiate between reason and religion—which was precisely the claim made by Spinoza in the preface to his Tractatus Theologico-Poiiticus.28 It seems likely that Spinoza and Prado were in close contact between 1655 and 1659, when it seems that Prado finally left Amsterdam. 29 From the fact that regular donations from Spinoza appear in the community records up to December 1655, we can surmise that Spinoza was an unalienated participant in community life up to this date, which closely coincides with the arrival of Prado in Amsterdam. 30 Evidence of their association appears in a 1659 deposition to the Spanish Inquisition in Madrid by an Augustinian friar, Fray Tomas Solano y Robles, who mentions that he encountered them both while recendy in Amsterdam, and describes them as close associates. 31 Spinoza's ideas can therefore be seen as the culmination of a long-standing tradition of radical thought within the Amsterdam Sephardi community. The cultural specificity of Spinoza's thought does not lie only in the enduring traces of his allegiance to Marrano notions of Jewish communal identity and survival,32 but also in his indebtedness to this tradition of Sephardi radicalism. With the almost immediate notoriety gained by Spinoza after the publication of the Tractatus Theologico-Poiiticus m 1670, the distinctively Jewish dimension to his thought was studiedly neglected by most parties. Spinoza himself, of course, had no wish to emphasise his intellectual debt to the world from which he had been expelled; while within the Jewish community, within which even any mention of Spinoza was technically banned, there was undoubtedly an even stronger desire to distance Spinozism from Judaism. Amongst non-Jews, responses to Spinoza's Jewishness were intricate and highly significant. However, Spinoza was universally regarded as a very special case. Jewish intellectual culture in general was over the course of the late seventeenth century increasingly seen as intrinsically inimical to philosophical thinking. Texts by seventeenth-century rabbis and community leaders such as Eliahu Montalto, Saul Levi Morteira, and Orobio de

27 28

29 30 31 32

Orobio, Epistola, in Révah 1959: 95-8. Benedict de Spinoza, 1951 [1670]. Tractatus Theologico-Poiiticus, trans. R. H. M. Elwes. N e w York: Dover, 9. Kaplan 1989: 146. Ibid, 131-5; Révah 1959: 27. Kaplan 1989: 133-4; Révah 1959: 31-3, 61-5. See Yovel, Y. 1989. Spin0?a and Other Heretics: The Marrano of Reason. Princeton: Princeton University Press, esp. 177-97.

Castro were read with great interest by early eighteenth century radicals, and Jewish themes continued to be intensively debated, but after the debate between Philip van Limborch and Orobio in 1684 respectful, serious theological discussion between living Jews and Chrisdans effectively ceased. While remaining fascinated by Judaism, the Early Enlightenment for the most part erased any suggestion of its possible indebtedness to currents of thought from within the Jewish world: an erasure that has been very little challenged even in the twentieth century. However, primarily but not solely via Spinoza, the early crucible of theological dissent of Sephardi Amsterdam was an important contributory source of the ideas and arguments of the wider European Radical Enlightenment, as it gathered force in the closing decades of the seventeenth century.

TKHINES

FOR T H E SABBATH BEFORE THE N E W M O O N CHAVA WEISSLER Lehigh University, USA

Let me begin with a passage f r o m My Mother's Sabbath Days (Di mames shabosim), the memoir by Chaim Grade. Wandering in exile in the Soviet Union during the Second World War, Grade is overcome by a memory: Quiet and radiant, with no beginning, no end, the melody stretches through my memory like a ray of sunlight, and I follow the unending, luminous strand back to Vilna, back to my mother's house. From my earliest childhood I remember how, on the Sabbath preceding the New Moon, my mother, before she left for the synagogue, would chant a Yiddish prayer in the front room of the smithy near the workbench, and I, still sunk in sleep in the back, would hear it: "I beseech Thee, Ο God most praised, that Thou shalt send me my sustenance, and shalt feed me and my household and all Israel, in joy of spirit and not in sorrow, in dignity and not in shame. Deliver me from all terrors, and misfortunes, and save me from slanders and all evil encounters. For this I do beseech Thee..."1 Let us, too, follow this luminous strand of memory into the past, and illuminate one of the pious practices of Polish Jewish w o m e n . What was the tkhine,2 the Yiddish supplication, that Chaim Grade's mother Vella recited? What were its origins? Why did she recite it so faithfully on the Sabbath before the N e w Moon? What other tkhines were composed for this event, and by w h o m ? H o w can the range of tkhines for shabbes mevorkhim help us understand the meaning of this day for Polish Jewish women? As we shall see, in different texts f r o m difGrade, Ch. 1986. My Mother's Sabbath Days. New York: K n o p f , 307-8. Earlier in the memoir, Grade quotes a longer version of the same tkhine‫׳‬. I beseech Thee, Ο G o d , that thou send me my sustenance, and T h o u feed me and my household and all Israel, in h o n o r and tranquility and not in sorrow, in dignity and not in shame. Deliver m e f r o m all terrors and disturbances, and save me f r o m slanders and all afflictions. I beseech Thee, grant me good fortune this year, and every new month, and every week, well-being and blessing and success, and grant me grace and favor in Thine eyes and in the eyes of others, so that none may have cause to speak evil of me. N o w I raise up my eyes to Heaven, and my broken heart I reveal u n t o thee. In the words of King David, peace be u p o n him: "A broken and a contrite heart, Ο G o d , T h o u wilt not despite." A m e n and may this be Thy will (48-49). Grade notes in this passage as well that his mother recited this prayer on every Sabbath preceding a N e w Moon, early in the morning at home. It is not clear to m e whether the differences in the two quoted versions are the result of poetic license, of Grade's faulty memory, or if Grade's m o t h e r improvised and altered her prayers according to her own desires, instead of "sticking to the b o o k . " For a complete study of the tkhines, see Weissler, Ch. 1998. Voices of the Matriarchs. Boston: Beacon Press.

ferent periods, the moment of blessing the new moon took on meanings that ranged from penitential prayers for forgiveness, to hopes for blessing and abundance, to pleas for the messianic redemption. Let me also suggest, although I cannot prove it, that both the penitential and eschatological themes in these tkhines are women's adaptations of similar observances of Yom Kippur Qatan— the Eve of Rash Hodesh, observed as a fast day.3 O n the Sabbath preceding Kosh Hodesh, during the morning service in the synagogue after the Torah reading, the time of the arrival of the New Moon is announced, along with brief prayers for the redemption of Israel from exile, implicidy symbolized by the renewal of the moon each month. (This practice was instituted in the geonic period—end of 6 th century to middle of 11th century) In the early eighteenth cerytury, a prayer for faith, health, sustenance, and good fortune in the coming month, adapted from the prayer of Rav recorded in the Talmud (Berakhot 16b), was added preceding the announcement. This prayer first appeared in the Polish ritual, and spread to all Ashkenazic communities. It is still recited today.4 The announcement of the N e w Moon, with its accompanying prayers, is known in Yiddish as Rosh-khoydesh bentshn, "blessing the New Moon," and the Sabbath on which it was performed is called Shabbes mevorkhim, "the Sabbath on which the New Moon is blessed." It came to be considered an et raison, a special time of divine favor, auspicious for petitions to God. The tkhine Vella Grade chanted first appeared in print in the early eighteenth century, and its tangled roots go back even earlier, to sixteenth century Safed, and seventeenth century Poland. Its bibliographical history is complex—one could almost say bizarre—and I will not go into it here. Suffice it to say that it first appeared in full-fledged form in Yiddish (so far as I know), in Seder tkhines (Amsterdam, 1752). It goes back to Nathan Nata Hannover's Tiqqunei tefillot, in his anthology of kabbalistic meditations entided Shaarei Tsiyyon, first published, under the influence of the Lurianic revival, in 1662.5 And while Vella Grade In the sixteenth century, Moses Cordovero and other Kabbalists of Safed, w h o conceived of the waning of the m o o n as a metaphor for the exile of the Shekhinah, G o d ' s indwelling presence, began observing the day before the New Moon as a "Minor Day of A t o n e m e n t " T w o religious impulses were intertwined in this observance. First, it was a day of private penitence for individual sins, and of hope that forgiveness of these sins would lead to a life of blessing and abundance. Equally important, it was a day of collective penance for the sins of the people Israel, and of prayers for the end of the exile in the messianic era, when, according to the kabbalists, the G o d h e a d would be reunited, and the people of Israel would return to their homeland. In Safed, this day was widely observed, by women, as well as men. See Fine, L. ed. 1984. Safed Spirituality. N e w York: Paulist Press, 42, 51. T h e custom of fasting until after n o o n and reciting special penitential prayers on this day was recommended to Eastern European Jews by I. Horowitz in his Shenei luhot ha-berit (first ed., Amsterdam, 1649), and this observance became widespread among both Sefardic and Ashkenazic Jews by the middle of the eighteenth century. Special liturgies were composed; see Goldschmidt, D. 1980. 'Tefillot le-erev rosh hodesh." In Goldschmidt, Mehqerei tefillah u-ftyyut (2nd ed.). Jerusalem: Magnes, 322-340. T h e Ashkenazic liturgies appear to have considerably less eschatological content than d o the Italian and Sefardic liturgies. Millgram, A. \9Ί\. Jewish Worship. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 264-266; Encyclopaedia Judaica. Jerusalem: Keter, 1972, s.v. " N e w Moon, Announcement of." Specifically, the tkhine is a paraphrase in Yiddish of Hannover's Hebrew prayer to be recited on Tuesdays. Perhaps the connection is that both the blessing of the N e w M o o n and Tuesdays were considered an et raison.

recited this prayer at home, it was originally intended for recitation in the synagogue during roysh khoydesh bentshn. The heading in the Amsterdam Seder tkhines reads: "A Tkhine to be said when one blesses the new moon." This tkhine was very popular, and was reprinted, in various tkhine collections, from the 18th through the 20th centuries, although not always in complete form. And second, while it primarily contains requests for livelihood and other blessings, it has a strong penitential theme, including the reciting of the following confession: May you cause me to hear good tidings, true and righteous, and may you give

me a good heart, and forgive my sins: sins and trespasses and transgressions that I have sinned and that I have trespassed and that I have transgressed.6 And may there not be in me any sin or trespass, and may the evil inclination never rule over me. 7

It also includes the so-called Thirteen Attributes of G o d (Ex 34:5-7), a common feature of penitential liturgy, and concludes with the recendy introduced Hebrew prayer for blessing the new moon. Whether because this tkhine originated in the kabbalistic devotions for Tuesdays, or for some other reason, there are halakhic problems with its recitation on the Sabbath, although these did not hinder its growing popularity. In general, penitential prayers and confessions are not supposed to be recited on the Sabbath, because they are considered contrary to the spirit of the day. The Thirteen Attributes are also omitted from the liturgy on the Sabbath; further, they are only supposed to be recited congregationally, and not as a private meditation, whether at home or in synagogue. Thus, there is a lack of fit between the occasion—that is, the Sabbath—and the content—penitential prayers and petitions. This text, however, was not the only tkhine for the Sabbath before the new moon. Two tkhines for this occasion were composed by 18th century Polish Jewish women, "The Tkhine of the Matriarchs" (tkhine imohos) by Leah Horowitz, and the third gate of the "Tkhine of Three Gates" (Tkhine shloyshe sheorim), attributed to Sarah bas Tovim. 8 The Tkhine of the Matriarchs expressly takes issue with the "lack of fit" between the tkhine found in Seder tkhines (Amsterdam, 1752) and the Sabbath. The author, Leah Horowitz (ca. 1720-ca. 1790), daughter of Yukl Horowitz, lived in Bolechow, Dobromil, and Krasnik. She was among the most learned of tkhine authors, conversant with rabbinic and kabbalistic literature. Her eight-page tkhine, Tkhine imohos (The Tkhine of the Matriarchs) contains a Hebrew introduction, an Aramaic liturgical poem on birkat ha-hodesh, and a Yiddish prose paraphrase of the poem, the actual tkhine she offers to her readers. Leah polemicizes against the importation of penitential material into the tkhines for the Sabbath on which the New Moon is announced. In the Hebrew introduction, she says:

6

7 8

This portion of the confession is in Hebrew: hataim va-avonot u-feshaim she-hatati veshe-aviti veshepasha'ti. I have used italic type to indicate the presence of Hebrew, rather than Yiddish, in the original t e x t Seder tkhines u-vakoshes. Fuerth, 1762, no. 66. O n Leah Horowitz and Tkhine imohos, see Weissler, Voices of the Matriarchs, chap. 6. O n Sarah bas Tovim, and aspects of her two tkhines, see Weissler, Voices of the Matriarchs, chap. 7.

An evil have I seen among my people. Every month, when the new m o o n is blessed, tkhines have been instituted that are not proper for two or three reasons. O n e reason is that it has been ordained not to say on the Sabbath the well-known [formula] "I have sinned, I have transgressed, I have trespassed." There is no need for proof; ... even a beginning school-boy knows that it is a sin. For on a good day (i.e., the Sabbath), everything is good, and the world is therein established; [saying confessions] is a weekday act.

Yet Leah's critique goes deeper than this. Both the tkhine she criticizes and the relatively recendy introduced prayer for announcing the new m o n t h are primarily concerned with asking blessings for the worshiper: "Grant us long life, a life of peace, a life of goodness, a life of blessing, a life with sustenance, a life of vigor and vitality..." For Leah, this is not prayer at all, but merely the barking of Z0har((s, 22a), she says, "They bark like dogs, greedy dogs. Paraphrasing Tiqqunei give us life, e t c . — h a v lan hayyim—there is no one who repents for the sake of the Shekhinah, but all the good that they do, they do only for themselves." Leah offers her own tkhine for the Sabbath before Kosh Hodesh as a substitute for these greedy, self-centered prayers. In Leah's view, proper prayer is for the the tenth sefirah, w h o mediates between the human and sake of the Shekhinah, the Shekhinah, like Israel, is in exile, the divine worlds. According to the kabbalah, and it is the goal of all true prayer and religious performance to end this exile and reunite her with her divine consort, Tiferet, the sixth sefirah. The full and final reunification will only come in the era of messianic redemption. Prayer that strives to bring about this end is "prayer for the sake of heaven." Leah argues strenuously that women are capable of "prayer for the sake of heaven," calling those who would object "fools." In fact, Leah makes a strong argument that women have the power, through their tearful prayer, to bring about the messianic redemption—if only they prayed properly. That is, they should attend synagogue daily, morning and evening, and they should refrain from idle chatter comparing their clothes and jewellery in synagogue. Most imThis is especially important, they must know how to weep for the Shekhinah. portant, Leah says, because "The day of the Lord is near." There are kabbalistic complications here that I discuss more fully elsewhere; briefly, Leah, w h o has a mystical understanding of prayer, is trying to teach women with no such understanding how to pray efficaciously, how to affect the seftrot. Leah simplifies this somewhat in the Yiddish portion of her tkhine, directed at an audience of non-learned women. It begins: 9

Today, when we consecrate the new m o o n , when we say the blessing on the Sabbath before the new moon, then it is a time to petition G o d . Therefore, we spread out our hands before G o d , and say our prayers that you bring us back to Jerusalem, and renew our days as of old. For we have no strength; we can no longer endure the hard, bitter exile, for we are also like the feeble lambs. O u r Sabbaths and festivals and our new moons have been ruined...

Leah then continues with an appeal that the merit of each of the matriarchs will cause G o d to redeem the people of Israel and bring them out of exile. When 9

See Weissler, Voices of the Matriarchs, 115-121.

she gets to Rachel, she gives women a model of prayer with weeping that, in her understanding, will be theurgically efficacious, the model of the children of Israel weeping at Rachel's grave: Ο G o d , ... answer us this month, by the merit of our faithful mother Rachel, to w h o m you promised that by her merit, we, the children of Israel, would come out of exile. For when the children of Israel were led into exile, they were led not far from the grave in which our mother Rachel lay. They pleaded with the foe to permit them to go to Rachel's tomb. And when the Israelites came to our mother Rachel, and began to weep and cry, "Mother, mother, how can you look on while right in front of you we are being led into exile?" Rachel went up before G o d with a bitter cry, and spoke: Lord of the world, your mercy is certainly greater than the mercy of any human being. Moreover, I had compassion on my sister Leah when my father switched us and gave her to my husband. H e told her to expect that my husband would think that I was the one. N o matter that it caused me great pain; I told her the signs [that Jacob and I had agreed upon to prevent the switch]. Thus, even more so, it is undoubtedly fitting for you, G o d , w h o are entirely compassionate and gracious, to have mercy and bring us out of this exile now. So may it come to pass, for the sake of her merit. 10

This dramatic depiction of the children of Israel, on their way into exile, pleading at Rachel's t o m b for her aid, and Rachel's impassioned plea to G o d , expresses the anguish of later Jews in exile, and their hope for redemption. Rachel, the matriarch most typically identified with the Shekhinah, is moved by her maternal concern for the children of Israel to recall her own struggles with passion and jealousy. She calls G o d to account to have compassion on Israel, as she had compassion for her sister. But this passage is even more than a heart-rending and powerful picture: it is the paradigm for "prayer for the sake of heaven." When the children of Israel come to Rachel's tomb, they weep·, their tears stir Rachel to respond with a bitter cry of her own. And Rachel's tearful plea to the Holy O n e causes him to respond with redemption: "and your children shall come back to their own country" (Jer 31:17). Thus, there is a graphic depiction of the effectiveness of tearful prayer. Leah's tkhine pointedly does not include the new prayer associated with blessing the new moon. And it is clear that her text rejects both the penitential themes and prayers for abundant blessing and protection found in the earlier material. Rather, for Leah, the m o m e n t of blessing the new moon, an et raison, must focus on eschatological hopes for the messianic redemption. The third text is Tkhine shloyshe sheorim (The Tkhine of Three Gates), by the legendary Sarah bas Tovim of Satanow. While Sarah's dates are unknown, the text itself can be dated to approximately the 1740's, and in any case, no earlier that 1732.11 Unlike Leah, w h o read rabbinic and Kabbalistic sources in Hebrew and Aramaic, Sarah seems to have worked exclusively with Yiddish paraphrases 10 11

T h e source of this passage is, ultimately, Midrash Lamentations Rabbati,petihta 24:23-25. It includes material f r o m the a n o n y m o u s Sabbatian work, Sefer litmdat jamim, first published in 1732, a n d reprinted in Zolkiew in the 1740's.

and translations of kabbalistic and rabbinic texts. (She does seem to have known a certain amount of Hebrew.) O n e of the "gates" of this tkhine is devoted to the Sabbath before the N e w Moon. Unlike Leah Horowitz's reasoned and logical text, this portion of Sarah bas Tovim's tkhine is a disorganized pastiche of sometimes unrelated material. It begins with an impassioned plea, deriving from the Sabbatian pietistic work Sefer Hemdatyamim, begging Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, and "the King Messiah" to arise from their graves and beg G o d to bring the redemption. This passage ends with the recitation of the Thirteen Attributes. Next comes the Hebrew prayer for the blessing of the new month, each phrase of which is followed by a Yiddish translation and interpretation. Next, oddly enough, there is a description of women in paradise, deriving ultimately from the Zohar. Sarah compiled all of these passages from other sources; however, the tkhine concludes with a long passage for which I have not yet identified an external source, and parts of which may have been written by the author herself. In any case, it combines three themes: pleas for the messianic redemption, prayers for forgiveness of sin and individual salvation, and hopes for individual benefits, both material and spiritual. Like much of Sarah's writing, it is quite powerful. This is how it begins: Lord of the whole world, hear my cry and answer me. Free us this year! May we be delivered from the bitter Exile, and may our bodies be removed from trouble. For we are like a firstborn child moaning in pain, like sheep without a shepherd, like a ship without a helm, like orphans without a father, like sucklings without a mother. I hope in the living God, that he may accept my great petition, as he accepts the petitions of all the low in spirit and the brokenhearted; may God accept my prayer and my broken heart. May the merit of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and of all the Little children who died before their time, plead for us. May the merciful angels also plead for us. This part of the passage shades from messianic hope to individual petition. A little later, the focus definitely becomes more personal: Lord of the whole world, with your right hand and with your left hand, with which you have created the world, may you spread those hands over us and help us P]. The God who saved Abraham from the fiery furnace, may that God, blessed be he, not send any evil to our children before our eyes. The God who saved Isaac when he was bound on the altar, may that God, blessed be he, bless our children with both his gende hands. The God who saved Jacob from the hands of Esau and Laban, may that God, blessed be he, grant that we be able to bless our children at the marriage canopy with our own hands. Next, the text turns back to messianic themes, and concludes on an eschatological note: The Shekhinah went into exile through a gate, and through that gate w‫ ש‬she return in the future. The Mount of Olives is opposite that gate, and if one stands on the Mount, one can see the gate, just as it says in the verse: "On that day, He will set his feet on the Mount of Olives "For every eye will behold the Lord's 12

Zech 14:4.

return"3‫ י‬through that gate. This means: And their feet will stand on that day on the Mount of Olives, and also they will see with their eyes how God, blessed be he, wffl return to Zion, and it will be rebuilt, and Jerusalem will be comforted, and the Messiah will come, speedily and soon, and the dead will come to life, speedily and soon, and wonders and miracles will be seen and heard, and [a voice] will cry out in the heavens, speedily and soon, to the Messiah, that he should prepare himself to be crowned with the holy crown, that he should arise, for the dear time is come when Israel will be delivered, speedily and soon. And may I, the woman Sarah, live to see how the Fathers and Mothers rejoice when that dear time comes. The holy Zohar writes, Redemption depends only on repentance, and on prayer with tears, which comes from the heart.14 Therefore, I, the woman Sarah, entreat you that you say your prayers with great devotion and with awe, fir prayer without devotion is like a body without a soul. Therefore, I pray the dear God, blessed be he, that my soul may come without any fear or fright to the place under the Throne of Glory from which it was taken, and that the Redeemer may come speedily in our days. Amen. Clearly, there is some similarity of content between this text and the Tkhine of the Matriarchs, even if there is a difference in tone. Both Leah and Sarah feel that redemption may be imminent; both Leah and Sarah stress the importance of women's devoted, tearful prayer. Sarah, however, sees nothing wrong in also asking for God's help in bringing her children to the wedding canopy. In reviewing all three of these tkhines, we note that the text later recited by Vella Grade was in fact the earliest text, originating in Hannover's Shaarei tsiyyon. Although this tkhine was first printed in Yiddish paraphrase in the eighteenth century, its content is of the seventeenth. This tkhine stresses individual repentance and blessing. A lot happened in Jewish eastern Europe in the intervening eighty to a hundred years before the composition of the two eighteenth century texts: the Sabbatian messianic movement and, depending on the dates of the two texts, perhaps the beginnings of Hasidism and Frankism. This atmosphere of religious excitement and messianic fervor is expressed in both Tkhine imohos and Tkhine shlojshe sheorim. Yet even as that excitement passed, the tkhines that expressed it survived. Sarah bas Tovim's impassioned plea for redemption appeared in various tkhine collections throughout the nineteenth century, while Leah Horowitz's messianic tkhine and the Amsterdam penitential tkhine against which she polemicized are printed, ironically, side by side in tkhine collections and prayer books such as Korban minkhe with Yiddish translation, well into the twentieth century. Perhaps, then, this combination restores the main character of Yom Kippur Qatan observances, their blend of penitence and messianic expectation, which may have been the original model for the heightened observance of shabbes mevorkhim among Polish Jewish women. But whether or not the Minor Day of Atonement is actually the origin of this observance, it is clear that women, as well as men, felt the need to express both personal and eschatological hopes at the renewal of the moon.

13 14

Is 52:8. Cf. Z o h a r II 12b.

PART SEPHARDIC

FIVE STUDIES

E L RÉGIMEN DE COMPARATIVO Y SUPERLATIVO EN LA TRADUCCIÔN LADINADA (SIGLO XV) DEL CuZARI

DE Y E H U D A HALEVI

CARMEN ALBERT Universidad Complutense, Madrid, Spain E n la Biblioteca Nacional de Madrid se encuentra el manuscrito con signatura ms. 17812 que contiene'la obra catalogada como Exposition deljudaismo. Se trata de una traducciôn al castellano de la obra de Yehuda Halevi, Sefer ha-Cu^ari. La existencia del manuscrito, antes solo mencionado de pasada por Baer ο en el Catâlogo de las obras que pertenecieron a don Pascual de Gayangos, se dio a conocer a través de la ediciôn realizada por Moshe Lazar para Labyrinthos en 1990, y posteriormente, con un facsimil publicado por José Escudero Rios en 1996. La traducciôn que aqui encontramos, como ya afirma Lazar en el prôlogo a su ediciôn, se basa en la version hebrea que Ibn Tibbon realizô a partir del original árabe. El texto, que traduce del hebreo con bastante libertad, reproduce la obra compléta excepto algunas secciones, de contenido estrictamente lingüisrico, que el traductor califica como intraducibles. Falta, además, el primer folio del manuscrito, que se perdiô en algûn momento de la historia de éste. Nos encontramos aqui ante uno de los mejores ejemplos de ladinamiento medieval, item más si consideramos que, al no tratarse de una Biblia ni libro de oraciones, contendrà nuevas palabras y estructuras no registradas antes en castellano-calco. Pretendo centrar la atenciôn sobre el uso que en el texto se hace del adjerivo calificadvo, en particular sobre las estructuras valorativas en las que se utiliza. El numéro de adjetivos calificativos es abundante en esta obra, sobre todo si tenemos en cuenta la aficiôn del traductor—comûn en la retôrica medieval, por otra parte—por utilizar dos vocablos sinônimos traduciendo la palabra original. Predominan los adjetivos primarios—no derivados—y los participios de presente y pasado, aunque también encontramos adjetivos secundarios, sobre todo en -oso, -ivo y -al (ej.: divinal, çeloso, discritiva), y la forma metaverbal en -dor (ej.: apanador, vengador, aportilladores). N o cabe, dado lo reducido del espacio, llevar a cabo ahora una caracterizaciôn formai de todo esto, ni ocuparnos de las formas sustitutivas del adjetivo, donde habria que hablar, entre otras cosas, de las formulas con de confluyentes con el estado constructo, y de las estructuras de reladvo con carácter ilativo. En lo que se refiere a la colocaciôn en la frase, el adjetivo se situa de forma indistinta antecediendo ο siguiendo al sustantivo al que modifica, y no es éste el momento de establecer hipôtesis sobre las motivaciones para esta posposiciôn ο anteposiciôn. Recordemos, sin embargo, que nos encontramos ante un texto traducido del hebreo, y que en hebreo el adjetivo siempre va pospuesto, y en él

no se distinguen por la posiciôn la funciôn atribudva y la predicadva. Por lo tanto, será dificil, si no imposible, determinar en qué casos la posposiciôn del adjetivo se deba a una fidelidad a la traducciôn, y en qué otros exista una razôn de indole expresiva. Además, el texto que aqui tenemos, c o m o ya he mencionado, abunda en parejas y trios de adjetivos. Siguiendo aqui la reflexion de Paufler sobre que el factor cuantitativo (la posposiciôn del elemento más largo) juega un papel importante en la colocaciôn del adjetivo, 1 vemos que gran parte de los adjetivos de este texto aparecerán pospuestos por razones de mero orden sintáctico y lôgico, y no por otras de naturaleza expresiva. Sobre la bivalencia de aigunos adjetivos que indican tamano (ej. grande, alto) a los que frecuentemente se atribuye un significado diferido, habrá que hablar en otro lugar. Se observan en este texto algunos casos de ladinamiento evidente. Destacaré, por su frecuencia de apariciôn, très situaciones relacionadas con el adjetivo: 1. E n primer lugar, la tendencia a determinar con articulo el adjetivo que sigue a un sustantivo determinado. Se trata de un claro calco del hebreo, donde sustantivos y adjetivos concuerdan no solo en género y numéro, sino también en determinaciôn. Ej. Esta mar la grande, (fol. 140a1) Ej. los varones del apanamiento el grande, (fol. 126a2)

Esta concordancia sucede también en árabe, y asi la encontramos a menudo en la prosa medieval de las traducciones del árabe. Cito algunos ejemplos recogidos por Alvaro Galmés: 2 Ej. Y pusole en su m a n o la bendita. (Libro de las Batallas, 64v, 11) Ej. Volviôse a nosotros con su cara la fermosa. (B.P. 3226: 19v, 9)

2. La estructura de comparativo (adj. + más que...), que aparece en ocasiones en el texto, y que refleja el calco de la formulaciôn hebraica (adj. + ‫)יותר מ ן‬. Ej. en el logar escogido y singularizado más que otro logar alguno. (fol. 46a2) Ej. de la m a n o de los fuertes más que ellos. (fol. l O l b l )

3. E n te, tan demos alterna

tercer lugar, encontramos un abundantisimo uso del participio de presencaracteristico de la lengua calco y del judeoespanol en general, y que poencontrar por doquier también en las biblias romanceadas. Este uso se con o t r o — m u c h o más escaso—de la forma metaverbal en -dor.

Ej. la gloria del m u n d o viniente. (fol. 101 al) Ej. del ánima razonable, la sapiente y memorante. (fol. 144b1)

El participio de présente conserva a menudo su régimen verbal, y aparece acompanado de complementos. Ej. asi c o m m o de aportüladores e confondientes la Ley, y negantes la rayz que es profeçia y esprito de santidat. (fol. 127a1)

1 2

Paufler: Strukturproblem... (réf. en Garcia Gonzâlez: 110). Galmés de Fuentes 1996: 215.

E n los textos castellanos de esta época (siglo XV) que presentan un carácter culto ο tendencia ladnizante podemos también encontrar este uso del pardcipio présente, influido por la forma latina équivalente, y que tiene ya un uso escaso y decreciente. Asi lo encontramos en autores de marcada impronta culta como Enrique de Villena, Alonso de Cartagena ο Rodriguez del Padrôn. Veamos algunos ejemplos: Ej. en el cuarto concilio de Toledo, reinante el rey Sisignando. (Cartagena, Doctrinal de cavalleros, 14 [fol. 2r])

Ej. si [...] alcançasen feliçidad tenporal, saçiante sus voluntades. (E. de \ ^ e n a , Tratado de la consolaàôn, 104)

Este uso del participio présente es un rasgo compartido por la lengua aljamiadomorisca, como nos muestran los estudios de Alvaro Galmés sobre la mismo. Cito a Galmés: "la literatura aljamiado-morisca abusa extensamente del pardcipio présente, usado con valor verbal acompafiado de complementos como ocurre en la lengua árabe." 3 Me centraré ahora en las distintas estructuras intensivas en las que podemos identificar el uso del adjetivo. He optado por destacar cinco casos: 1. E n primer lugar encontramos el adjetivo acompanado de adverbios con carácter valorativo ο ponderativo, taies como tan, muj/ muncho, grande,flaco,alto. Ej. Ej. Ej. Ej.

nuestro Senor Alto (forma lexicalizada de apariciôn frecuente en el texto). y le fizo grande honra. (fol. 30al) grandisima retôrica exçelente. (fol. 4al) que siempre manaban cosas ynfinitas de su boca sobre el más flaco sojebto de çiençia ο misterio que estoviesen. (fol. 128a2) Ej. gente santa, abstrayda d materia y tanto fuerte de forma, (fol. 77bl)

Muj/muncho, de claro carácter intensificador, se alternan en su uso adverbial. Muncho equivale a muy cuando antepuesto, y se dan casos de doble intensificaciôn, donde se usa la formula muj muncho. El vocablo mucho suele aparecer marcado en el ms. con un signo de nasalizaciôn, por lo cual creo debemos leerlo como "muncho," forma caracteristica, por otro lado, del judeoespanol, y que vamos a encontrar en muchas ocasiones en las copias de la literatura tradicional, aunque no he encontrado paralelo alguno en otros textos ladinados medievales ο en las biblias romanceadas. Ej. denen los tesdgos muncho lexos. (fol. 31 b l ) Ej. la esençia divinal es ensalçada y separada, y muy m u n c h o enaltesçida. (fol. 39a2) Ej. siendo muy más dignos de privaciôn que de firmamiento. (fol. 98b 1)

2. En segundo lugar debo hablar del uso paranomâsico con valor intensivo, que consiste en la reduplicaciôn de la raiz del adjetivo que se quiere intensificar. Se trata de una formula de clara influencia semitica, présente también en las

‫נ‬

Galmés de Fuentes 1965: 539.

traducciones medievales del árabe y en la literatura aljamiado-morisca. 4 Asi, por ejemplo, aparece très veces en el texto la formula "ynposible de toda ynposibledat." 3. E n tercer lugar tenemos el ya mencionado rasgo de la pluralidad de adjetivos: parejas ο trios de vocablos relacionados entre si, ya sinônimos, ya antônimos, ya enumeraciones dentro de un mismo campo semântico. Se trata de un rasgo caracteristico de toda la retôrica medieval. E n el caso de los sinônimos, nos encontramos con lo que Sephiha ha dado en llamar "redoublements synonymiques." 5 Este hecho no se limita al uso del adjetivo, sino que también es frecuente para otras categorias gramaticales como verbos, sustantivos ο adverbios. E n el caso del adjetivo suelen utilizarse parejas de participios de pasado, aunque no de forma exclusiva. Veamos algunos ejemplos: Ej. todo esto es Cosa publica e sabida. (fol. 5a2) Ej. a tus contrarios y a los lidiantes contigo. (fol. 6 b l )

4. Me ocupo ahora del régimen de comparativo, cuarto punto en esta clasificaciôn de estructuras valorativas. Hay que distinguir entre los distintos grados de la comparaciôn: 4.1. El comparativo de igualdad se sirve de la estructura más habitual en castellano "tan.... como." Ej. una cosa tanto baxa c o m m o el onbre. (fol. 55bl)

La forma "asi c o m m o . . . " se usa a menudo para establecer similes y para introducir exempli. 4.2. El comparativo de inferioridad usa la formula "menos .... que." 4.3. El comparativo en grado de superioridad suele presentar la forma habituai del castellano "más que": Ej. ,;Non contenplas si la luz del coraçôn y yntelecto es mas delgada y mas noble que non aquella luz sensible [...]? (fol. 69b2)

A menudo esta formula se acompana de un intensivo c o m o muy / muncho: Ej. era muy más fuerte que non él. (fol. 45b 1) Ej. la quai es m u n c h o más grave de resçebir sin dubda que la ynovaçiôn. (fol. liai)

o ambos intensificadores a la vez: Ej. eran muy m u n c h o más fuertes que non ellos. (fol. 27al)

El segundo término de la comparaciôn puede aparecer negado ο afirmado indistintamente y con el mismo valor: Ej. somos muy más dignos que ellos. (fol. 3al). Ej. era muy más fuerte que non él. (fol. 45bl)

4 5

Galmés de Fuentes 1996: 200 y ss. Sephiha 1977: 292.

Ya he mencionado, en el apartado de los calcos del hebreo, las estructuras de comparadvo que traducen la formula de ‫יותר מ ן‬. Ej. de la mano de los fuertes más que ellos. (fol. l O l b l )

Existe un caso posible de calco de ‫ יותר ע ל‬en: Ej. y fazer fermosas obras sobre las obras de otros. (fol. 104a2)

5. Finalmente, el grado superlativo présenta algunos aspectos interesantes y novedosos a nuestro conocimiento. Ya hemos hablado de la alternancia muylmuncho y de la formula paranomâsica con valor intensivo. Por otra parte, la acunaciôn de la forma sintética en -isimo se reduce a unos cuantos vocablos que se repiten sistemáticamente (sanusimo, grandisimo, sinpiïsimo) Ej. el [...] santisimo Abraham, (fol. 34a2)

y otro punado de adjedvos, siempre con un carácter claramente apreciativo: aldsimo, clarisimo, perfecdsimo, feliçisimo, sapiendsimo y verisimo). E n ocasiones, este superlativo absoluto se ve incrementado con la anteposiciôn del intensificador muj (Ej. con muj gra(t)disim0 go%o, fol. 86bl). El grado superlativo relativo utiliza básicamente la estructura puramente castellana de (el más de): Ej. a los más nobles de los fljos de Levi. (fol. 58a2)

Existe, por ultimo, una estructura de superlativo, distinta a todo uso del castellano, y de la cual he podido encontrar paralelos en una traducciôn medieval coetânea de la Guia deperplejos. Se trata de la expresiôn tipo "perfecto en fin de la perfecciôn" (fol. 19b2). Esta formula aparece en gran numéro de ocasiones: Ej. un saber divinal declarado en fin de la declaraçiôn. (fol. 12b2)

Y hasta tal punto está asimilada que en la mitad de los casos se omite el adjetivo que se quiere intensificar: Ej. Pero esto que te diré será todo en fin de la cortedat y brevedat. (fol. 135a1)

Esta expresiôn, que no he encontrado resenada en ningún lugar, parece traducir la formula (adj + ‫ בתכלית‬+ sust.) que se da en hebreo medieval. Jastrow traduce como "finalidad, fin, perfecciôn." Aunque no siempre que esta expresiôn aparece lo hace traduciendo su équivalente en hebreo, sino alguna otra similar. Asi, cuando el texto dice en fin de la diminuçiôn (fol. l a l ) , está traduciendo del hebreo ‫" =( ב ת כ ל י ת החסרון‬en el fin de la carencia"); y cuando el texto ladinado dice saber divinal declarado en fin de la declaraçiôn (fol. 112b2) traduce del texto hebreo ‫הבאור‬ ‫" =( מ פ ר ש ת ת כ ל י ת‬saber perfecto muy claro fin de la aclaraciôn") donde en lugar de reduplicaciôn de la raíz del adjetivo se utiliza una raiz sinônima (‫ באר‬/ ‫)פרש‬. Termino asi este primer esbozo sobre el uso del adjetivo en este tipo de textos medievales. Muchas cosas han quedado fuera. Otras irán llegando.

Bibliografia Cartagena, Alonso de, 1995. Doctrinal de los Cavalleros. Univ. de Santiago de Compostela. Galmés de Fuentes, A. 1965. "Interés en el orden lingüistico de la literatura espanola

aljamiado-morisca." Actes du X' congrès International de Linguistique et Philologie Romanes. Paris.

, 1996. 1nfluencias sintácticas y estilisticas del arabe en la prosa medieval castellana. Madrid: Gredos.

Garcia Gonzalez, J. 1990. Contribution a! estudio de la sintaxis histôrica del adjetivo en espanol (tesis doctoral). Madrid: Univ. Complutense.

Maimonides, 1989. Guide for the Perplexed (a 15,h century Spanish Translation !y Pedro de Toledo). Ed. M. Lazar. California: Labyrinthos. Sephiha, H. V. 1977. "L'intensité en judéo-espagnol." E n Iberica I. Ed. H. V. Séphiha. Paris: Éditions Hispaniques, Sorbonne, 285-294. Yehuda Halevi. Cu^ari (ms. 17812 Β. Ν de Madrid).

ELEMENTOS HISPÂNICOS Y JAQUÉTICOS EN LOS REFRANES JUDEO-ESPANOLES DE MARRUECOS TAMAR ALEXANDER & YAAKOV BENTOLILA Universidad Ben-Gurion del Neguev, Beer-Sheva, Israel

Elaboration del corpus1 El présente trabajo está basado en dos colecciones de refranes judeo-espafioles, ο jaquédcos, de Marruecos, una que se publico en 1978 (Benazeraf; abrev.: Β A), y la otra, inédita, consiste en un manuscrito, compilado p o r Anita Levy (abrev.: AL), emigrada al Canadá, donde falleciô hace pocos anos. Muchos de esos refranes figuran también en el repertorio paremiolôgico hispânico general, sea porque ambos repertorios, el hispânico y el jaquético, denen raices comunes, ο porque refranes hispânicos han sido adoptados por los judios de las comunidades de lo que fue el Marruecos espanol. Esos proverbios espanoles han podido ser adaptados lingüisticamente a la Jaqueda. P o r otra parte, los proverbios jaquédcos han atravesado p o r un proceso general de "castellanizaciôn" que caracteriza culturalmente a dichas comunidades. A pesar de contraponerse, ambas tendencias coexisten en lo que concierne a los refranes. La cuesdôn que nuestro trabajo se p r o p u s o resolver fue saber en qué medida aquellos proverbios conservan su carácter lingüisdco y cultural original, espanol ο jaquético. H e m o s intentado responder a esa cuesdôn, mediante la comparaciôn de las colecciones jaquéticas con dos compilaciones paremiolôgicas hispánicas: Maldonado 1974 (abrev.: M) y Campos & Barella 1993 (abrev.: C&B). Para efectuar la comparaciôn, hemos procedido c o m o sigue: 1. H e m o s dado una nota a cada u n o de los refranes jaquéticos. Dicha nota, deducida combinadamente de la cantidad de rasgos jaquéticos y del tamano del refrán, indica el nivel de caracterizaciôn jaquética de éste. Los refranes se alinean pues del más jaquético, que ha obtenido la nota 18, hasta todos aquellos que han recibido un cero. Los rasgos jaquéticos más importantes son: el uso de una palabra dpicamente jaquética (vocablos de etimologia árabe, hebrea, etc.); estructuras morfolôgicas peculiares, c o m o " t o m i m o s " ( = " t o m a m o s " ) ; propiedades fonolôgicas: " s " intervocâlica sonora, geminaciôn de consonantes, velarizaciôn de labiales en el entorno de vocales posteriores—"gueno" (="bueno), el sincope de la fricativa palatal intervocâlica—"maravia" (="mara villa"), etc. 2. Establecimos una lista de todas las palabras de contenido semântico (excluyendo vocablos gramaticales, conjunciones, etc.), reuniendo bajo un m i s m o encabezamiento las ocurrencias distintas: " c o m i m o s , " "comerâs" " c o m e " , todas Esta primera parte ha sido preparada y presentada por Yaakov Bentolila.

bajo la palabra-clave "comer." Esas palabras-clave recibieron también una nota, deducida de los refranes previamente anotados en los que se hallaron. Por ejemplo: la palabra "aceite" dene la nota 3,66, porque figura en très refranes jaquéticos, que recibieron respectivamente las notas de 0, 6 y 5. 3. Finalmente reunimos una muestra de 41 palabras-clave. El criterio fue que habian de tener una frecuencia de más de dos ocurrencias y que debian representar toda la gama de notas, de las mas altas hasta la de cero. La más frecuente es "Dios" que aparece 191 veces; siguen "dar" (164), tener (150); entre las menos frecuentes hallamos "cocina" (3), "reir" (5), "ajuar" (6). Las notas más altas en esta muestra son 7.33 ("ayuno"), 5.33 ("cosa" y "cocina"), 5.00 ("casar"). Esas 41 palabras-clave encabezan 1906 ocurrencias, pero no todas las ocurrencias, ο no todas las palabras, figuran en refranes jaquéticos y espanoles que pueden considerarse como paralelos y por lo tanto prestarse a la comparaciôn. Como tuvimos que operar únicamente con refranes paralelos, nos quedamos finalmente con 29 palabras-clave, 96 proverbios espanoles y 123 jaquéticos, los cuales constituyeron el objeto de nuestro estudio. Variantes, cuando las hay, se contaron por refranes a parte entera.

Lista de las 29 palabras analizadas 2 ayuno anafe cosa cocina casar mayor haver casa aceite ajuar bajar mirar ver negro padre corner mano ir Dios venir adobar querer dar día cansar 2

Free. 3 3 30 3 48 11 5 103 5 6 3 25 83 32 31 100 58 108 191 74 3 129 164 46 6

F.BA 2 1 3 3 11 2 3 24 2 1 3 13 17 15 10 22 13 16 22 16 2 17 33 13 2

F.AL 1 2 0 0 8 1 2 13 1 2 0 6 16 5 10 16 6 16 12 15 1 12 19 6 1

F.BAL 3 3 3 3 19 3 5 37 3 3 3 19 33 20 20 38 19 32 34 31 3 29 52 19 3

Nota 7.33 6.33 5.33 5.33 5 4.66 4.6 .3.70 3.66 3.66 3.33 3.31 2.93 2.9 2.9 2.81 2.57 2.56 2.5 2.25 2 1.93 1.80 1.78 1.66

F. BA = frecuencia en la colecciôn de Benazeraf; F. AL = idem en la colecciôn de Anita Levy; F. BAL = idem en ambas colecciones jaquéricas.

mal madre bien camino bianco alzar hijo tener cerrar crecer reir valer balde gente clavo hoja

135 37 122 12 7 5 41 150 15 10 5 79 12 5 7 6

22 8 16 0 3 2 14 36 4 2 1 23 1 3 1 2

19 13 14 3 0 1 8 23 2 1 1 2 2 0 2 1

41 21 30 3 3 3 22 59 6 3 2 25 3 3 3 3

1.56 1.52 1.43 1.33 1.33 1.33 1.27 1.20 1 0.66 0.5 0.44 0 0 0 0

La comparaciôn se efectuô a partir de cuatro criterios: a) el mensaje; b) 01 tema; c) la estructura, ο formulaciôn (implica sintaxis, modos y tiempos verbales, etc.); d) el vocabulario. El tema corresponde al significado literal del refrán; siempre es explicito, puesto que sobresale directamente del texto como tal. El mensaje se refiere a la idea general, a la intenciôn ο a la funciôn del refrán; éstos pueden ofrecerse de m o d o explicito ο implicito, pero en este caso incumbe al destinatario del refrán (ο al investigador) deducir el sentido pragmâtico del proverbio. La formulaciôn ο los vocablos usados pueden variar también entre los paralelos. Un ejemplo: Vibda de buen marido y no cazzada con mal rnarido (BA 552) / / Para mal maridar, más vale nunca casar (M 1200) El mensaje es el mismo: ambos refranes aportan la ensenanza de que es preferible quedarse sola a aceptar un marido indeseable. El vocabulario se puede considerar comûn a los dos refranes, puesto que figuran las palabras-clave "marido" "casar/casada" " b u e n " "mal." Pero la formulaciôn es diferente, de lo que resultan dos estructuras disdntas: A prep. buen C, y no B prep. mal C / / para mal A más vale (adv.) Β E n jaqueda A y B son sustantivos, mientras que en espafiol son verbos. E n la version jaquérica, se trata de las preferencias de una viuda, mientras que en la espanola la idea se exriende también a una mujer soltera. El tema pues es diferente. Este refrán se analiza según el modelo: =mensaje

Sterna

^formulaciôn

=vocabulario

Esos cuatro criterios, según se dé diferencia ο similitud entre el refrán jaquérico y el espanol, nos han permiddo clasificar los pares de refranes en 12 modelos distintos. 74 refranes jaquéticos, ο sea más de la mitad, entran en modelos donde tanto el mensaje como el tema son idénticos a los refranes espanoles correspondientes. Se trata de refranes espanoles incorporados al repertorio verbal de los judios oriundos del norte de Marruecos. Por ejemplo:

Quien madruga el Dio le ayuda (BA 471) / / Quien madruga, Dios le ayuda (M

1268)

que se analiza segûn el modelo: =mensaje

=tema

=formulaciôn

=vocabulario

Las notas calculadas a esos refranes son por lo general relativamente bajas. Lo mismo que los rasgos lingûisdcos peculiares de la jaqueda, la formulaciôn y el vocabulario pardcipan de la "jaquedzaciôn" de refranes espafioles, de su integraciôn en el repertorio lingûisdco. Además, la integraciôn de refranes espanoies en el patrimonio cultural, y no meramente lingûisdco, supone también mutaciôn del mensaje ο del tema. Veamos varios refranes jaquéticos que ejemplifican los modelos donde el mensaje y / o el tema se apartan de sus homôlogos espafioles. Estos serán objeto de un anâlisis más detallado más adelante. Desbanaibos madré que no vino padre (AL 88) / / Tiraos, padre, y pasarse ha mi madré (C&B 2613) ?^mensaje

Sterna

^formulaciôn

^vocabulario

Da un palmo al perro, tomara cuatro (BA 123) Al judio dadle un palmo y tomará cuatro (C&B 1976) =mensaje

Sterna

^formulaciôn

^vocabulario

Buen mazzal tengas hija, que el saber poco te apresta (BA 56) / / Fortuna te dé Dios, hijo, que el saber poco te basta (C&B 3366) =mensaje

Sterna

=formulaciôn

^vocabulario

El mal del Milano y el papa sano (AL 116) / / El mal del milano, las alas quebradas y el papo sano (C&B 2105) ^mensaje

Sterna

=formulaciôn

^vocabulario

Desigualdades en el mensaje y / ο en el tema son las que contribuyen más al grado de jaquetizaciôn de los proverbios. Eso consta en los promedios de las notas calculadas cuando agrupamos los refranes segûn esos dos criterios: a) b) c) d)

=mensaje =mensaje ^mensaje ^mensaje

=tema ^tema =tema Sterna

74 27 6 16

0.71 1.25 1.83 2.75

La gran proportion de refranes del repertorio jaquético que presentan mensajes ο temas ocurrentes en las colecciones hispánicas, como también el hecho de que el tema influye menos que el mensaje—todo eso refleja un alto nivel de la "hispanizaciôn" que se alcanzô en esas comunidades. N o obstante, los refranes más castizos, y por lo tanto los que reciben una nota más alta, son aquéllos que conciernen a las preocupaciones más puramente cotidianas de los miembros de la comunidad. Pero como estos refranes no denen homôlogos espafioles, no han sido tratados en nuestro trabajo. Aazarito, mi yerno, wahed l'ummu Al hattar no le falta alhena Au cuando vay! vay! au cuando baruj habba

BA 2 AL 16 BA 43

Cada c o z z a y su mazzal hatta el sefer en el hejal

B A 58

Cazzar cazzar que la landra v i e n e

A L 41

C h o l l o y m o l l o y capi aburacado

AL 42

X o l - l o y M o l - l o y capia aburacada

B A 555

C o m i t é ο n o c o m i t é a la m e z z a te pusites

A L 45

C o m i t é s ο n o c o m i t é s a la m e z a te puzzites

BA 80

D e t o d o tiene O r i c o hatta alhena e n el culico

A L 82

D e c h a t o d o m u j j e r y baite al b a n o

A L 85

El mazzal d e la fea la h e r m o z z a le d e s s e a

B A 190

El que se cazza cazza quiere

A L 129

Fantaz-zia y la boisa bazia

BA 230

H a c e r ver el h o l a m pacharitos

A L 150

H a h a m de docena!

BA 246

H i z o esta y m e z z a

BA 262

J u r o Rahel p o r M e n a h e m

B A 271

K a d e el pan kade el k e z o

BA 272

Para que vinites m a m m a sin dexar n i n g u n o e n cazza

BA 424 B A 421

Para'l D i o , nada es madavia

B A 451

Q u e m i la cevada y aaudei el trigo

BA 470

Q u i e n luzze c o n la c o z z i n a n o luzze c o n la bezina

BA 522

S o b r e v i v o s c u z z o que s o b r e m u e r t o s n o es m i l u z z o

BA 544

U n o en maarab y o t r o e n mizrah

H e m o s visto ejemplos de adaptaciones jaquédcas de refranes espanoles. La corriente opuesta, ο sea "castellanizaciôn" de refranes jaquédcos parece ser más floja. C o m o se ha precisado en un articulo que está en prensa (Bentolila, en prensa), se trata de adaptaciones menores, sobre todo en el dominio fonolôgico. Hemos observado los resultados siguientes: 1) pocos refranes jaquéticos (14/123, ο sea el 11 %) reproducen integralmente versiones espanolas; 2) una gran proporciôn (60/123: 49 %) reproducen también versiones espanolas, pero la jaquetia se percibe por adaptaciones en la fraseologia ο la formulaciôn, en simplificaciones sintácticas y substituciones léxicas 24 refranes presentan rasgos fonolôgicos ο morfolôgicos jaquéticos; 3) 33 refranes (33/123: 27 %) difieren de los homôlogos espanoles en el mensaje ο en el tema—12 de ellos presentan rasgos jaquéticos; los demás (16/123: 13 %) difieren prácticamente en todo de los paralelos espanoles, y se incluyen aqui ûnicamente por estar vinculados a

+ =mensaje

=tema

= formulaciôn/vocabulario

14

3

17

=mensaje

=tema

=/#formulaciôn/vocabulario

36

21

57 27

=mensaje

#tema

formulaciôn/vocabulario

16

11

^mensaje

=tema

=/^formulac1ôn/vocabulario

5

1

6

^mensaje

Sterna

=/^formulaciôn/vocabulario

7

9

16

Total

78

45

123

63%

37%

Relaciones interculturales entre los proverbios hispânicos y jaquéticos3 El aspecto principal de la idenddad de los grupos étnicos está expresado en su folklore. Como idenddad étnica, esta compuesto por diferentes tradiciones comunes de la cultura circundante, y el folklore es una forma dinámica, flexible, no obligatoria y permite expresiones que diferencian a los grupos. Para que una tradiciôn folklôrica pueda expresar la idenddad comunal del grupo, tiene que pasar por un proceso de adaptation designado en la disciplina del folklore, por el término de "oicotipificaciôn" (Von-Sydow 1965). Este proceso es necesario para la vitalidad de la tradiciôn folklôrica cuando pasa de cultura a cultura. La tradition folklôrica judeo-hispana tiene très componentes principales: a) la tradiciôn judia—los clàsicos textos hebraicos comunes a toda la cultura judia; b) la tradiciôn hispana; c) la cultura ambiental de los paises adonde llegaron los judios sefardies después de su expulsion de Espana, como Turquia, Grecia y Marruecos. Esta observation se refiere a todos los judios sefardies, pero el segundo factor, la continua influencia de la cultura hispánica, es más importante entre los judios sefardies de Marruecos por la constante y estrecha interaction entre estas dos culturas. Dado que el proverbio es una corta frase poética estructurada, está más ligado a la tradiciôn que al cuento ο a la canciôn. Por eso el proverbio guarda mejor las verdades de la cultura, de la cual ha sido tomado. Además, a medida que el proceso de adaptation del proverbio profundiza en la cultura de los grupos, se producen cambios significativos en la formulation del proverbio, sus temas, mensajes y vocabulario. Compararemos algunos proverbios hispanos con sus paralelos jaquéticos, de acuerdo con très categorias que expresan el nivel de adaptation: 1. Adaptation profunda: cambios en el mensaje, el tema, el vocabulario y la formulation. El proverbio se vuelve especifico y exclusivo de la cultura judia. Por ejemplo: Desbanaivos, madré que no vino padre (BA 145) Esta es una adaptation del espanol: Tiraos, padre, y pasarse a mi madré (C&B 2613) La palabra "banyo" en jaqueda tiene dos significados: bano publico y miqmh, el bano ritual. A una mujer casada no le esta permitido tener relaciones intimas con su marido antes de su purification en el miqweh (banyo), conforme al câlculo de su ciclo mensual. La situation textual del proverbio implica un mensaje de la hija a la madré (posiblemente) diciéndole que no dene sentido prepararse, dado que su marido (el padre) no 11egará. Se trata más bien de un mensaje intimo poco probable para ser dicho por un hijo a la madré. Incluso para una hija no es usual, aunque conversaciones intiEsta segunda parte ha sido preparada y presentada por Tamar Alexander.

mas entre madré e hija exisdan en la sociedad tradicional, pero usualmente solo unidireccionales. La madré aconsejaria a su hija y no viceversa. N o es claro si la hija simpadza con la desilusiôn de su madré ο bien si la ridiculiza. E n cualquier caso, por boca una hija, ese dicho está altamente cargado de emociôn. El proverbio original hispano dene una estructura similar y contiene caracteres familiares paralelos: padre, madré y el portavoz, que es la hija ο el hijo. Pero contrariamente al proverbio jaquético, en el proverbio hispano los roles están inverddos. El portavoz se dirige al padre, no a la madré. Contrariamente a la esposa del proverbio jaquédco, quien se prépara para su marido, el proverbio hispano implica una relaciôn hostil y tensa entre la pareja, incluso entre el hijo ο la hija y el padre. Podria ser que este proverbio esté conectado con el dpo narrarivo "Belfagor" (AT 1164),4 en el que la mujer es tan terrible que el propio diablo, su marido, le teme, y el hijo ahuyenta a su padre diciéndole que su esposa se aproxima. E n cualquier caso, éste es un ejemplo en el cual la situation temádca textual del proverbio adaptado es especifica y ûnica de la cultura judia, y solo puede ser entendida si se conocen los preceptos maritales judios. El mensaje del proverbio podria ser aún más general: podria indicar también cualquier expectadva dudosa para una cita (en negocios, etc.). 2. E n la categoria opuesta del proceso de adaptaciôn hay proverbios con tema y mensaje universal, los cuales transmigran de cultura a cultura con solo minimos cambios. Por ejemplo: Quien madruga el Dio le ayuda (BA 471)

E n espanol: Quien madruga Dios le ayuda (M 1268)

Si bien el proverbio trata de Dios, es usado sin cambios en dos religiones diferentes. La única diferencia está en la formulaciôn del nombre de Dios. La expresiôn "el Dio," en lugar de Dios, es dpica del lenguaje jaquético y es usado principalmente por las mujeres. Indica intimidad y acercamiento y va en singular. E n ambos casos, el mensaje, el tema, la formulaciôn y el vocabulario son idénticos. Dios ayuda a quien se levanta temprano. El proceso de adaptaciôn se expresa sobre todo en el hecho de haber seleccionado y elegido este proverbio de un repertorio hispânico general para incluirlo en la tradiciôn jaquética. a) La mayoria de los proverbios se encuentran en una categoria media, es decir, se transforman y pasan por variados grados de adaptaciôn cultural y lingüistica. Ofrecemos dos ejemplos para mostrar los cambios ideolôgicos, lingüisticos y de género. El proverbio hispano dice: Aljudio dadle un palmo y tomarà cuatro (C&B 1976)

El tema de este proverbio expresa el estereotipo negativo del judio, como codicioso y avaro. Naturalmente, tal como está es inaceptable en la cultura judia. El proverbio jaquético paralelo dice: 4

Cf. Aarne & T h o m s o n 1973.

Da un palmo al perro tomarà cuatro (ΒΑ 123)

El término "judio" es cambiado por "perro." El tema es diferente, el mensaje es el mismo: que algunas personas nunca estarán sausfechas con lo que les es dado, y tratarán de tomar cuatro veces más. El uso de la palabra "perro" dentro del grupo jaquético, es extremadamente negativo. E n este sentido se retiene la connotaciôn del término "judio" en el proverbio hispânico. La diferencia sintáctica también émana de la misma razôn: en la version espanola se trata especificamente del judio, y lo pone en evidencia mediante la transposition de la palabra al principio de la oration. El refrán jaquético, en cambio, utiliza "perro" c o m o metâfora de cualquier individuo indeseable. E n este contexto no cabia ordenar las partes de la frase a la manera de *"Al perro dadle un palmo..." b) C o m o las palabras hebreas forman uno de los principales componentes de las lenguas judias, un cambio lingüistico comûn consiste en sustituir palabras del castellano por équivalentes hebreas, como en el siguiente proverbio: Fortuna te de Dios, hijo, que el saber poco te basta (o te vale) (C&B 3366) E n jaquetia: Buen Ma%a! tengas hija que el saber poco te apresta (BA 56)

E n lugar de "fortuna" tenemos mayal que significa lo mismo. Pero usar el término hebreo agrega connotaciones interculturales. E n judeo-espanol en general, no solo en jaquetia, mayal es la palabra hebrea más frecuentemente utilizada en los proverbios. Es usada principalmente por la mujer y además de "fortuna" ο "suerte," significa también "buen marido." De este modo, dirigirse a una mujer joven con este proverbio, significa desearle un buen matrimonio. Este significado no está relacionado con el espanol "fortuna." O t r o cambio interesante entre estos dos proverbios es el cambio de género. La aposiciôn binaria en el proverbio jaquético es entre matrimonio y conocimiento (education). Es muy comûn aconsejar a una mujer joven en la sociedad traditional que atienda a su marido y no a su education: una mujer educada no encontrarà marido fâcilmente. Al hombre, en cambio, no se le anima a no aprender. El contraste en el proverbio hispano original es diferente: "fortuna," en general, queda opuesto a education y conocimiento; es decir, el destino y las fuerzas supernaturales son mas fuertes que los logros humanos. El cambio lingüistico del espanol al hebreo permite el cambio de género. 4. El ultimo tipo de adaptation del que vamos a mencionar un ejemplo es el que ocurre en el estrecho circulo individualista. El cambio es creado por el individuo que usa el proverbio. El proverbio hispano "El mal de milano, las alas quebradas y el papo sano" (C&B 2105) présenta una estructura triple y trata de una enfermedad. El sujeto del proverbio (hombre ο pàjaro) está enfermo y dolorido (sus alas están quebradas) pero su estômago no está afectado. El proverbio paralelo aparece asi en la colecciôn jaquética de Benazeraf.

El mal de milano (= un hombre perverso) y el papo sano (BA 189). El cambio está en la estructura, dos partes en lugar de très. El omitir la descripciôn de las alas quebradas, hace el mensaje del proverbio más moderado y general. N o puede ser aplicado a pàjaros y claramente se refiere al dominio humano. E n la colecciôn de Anita Levy, encontramos una version diferente: "El mal de Milano (M mayûscula) y el papa sano." Levy entendiô la palabra Milano como el nombre de la ciudad y una especie de enfermedad. Ella cambia la palabra " p a p o " (estômago) por "papa" (el Papa). Ahora tenemos un mensaje completamente diferente relacionado con la gente de Milano (o cualquier otro lugar), quienes están sufriendo mientras el Papa (o cualquier otra personalidad) está a salvo e indiferente. La diferencia entre los dos proverbios jaquéticos indica creatividad individual.

Conclusion El proceso de adaptaciôn, que transluce en diferentes niveles de "jaquetizaciôn" de proverbios espafioles o de "hispanizaciôn" de refranes jaquéticos, es también un proceso de reaction a diferentes niveles: nacional, colectivo e individual. La interrelation cultural, compuesta por procesos opuestos de integraciôn y segregaciôn (Barth 1969), permiten al grupo définir sus propios limites étnicos y a expresarse en su propia y exclusiva tradiciôn folklôrica.

Bibliografia Aarne A .& Thomson, S. 1973. The Types of the Folktale. Helsinki: F. F. C, 184. Barth, F. 19692 Ethnie Groups and Bounderies. The Social Organisation of Culture Differences. London: George Allen and Unwin. Benazeraf, R. 1978. Refranero: Recueil de Proverbes Jude'o-Espagnols du Maroc. Madrid: Raphael Benazeraf. Bentolila, Y. (en prensa). "Le processus d'hispanisation de la Hakétiya à la lumière de quelques sources littéraires." En Les Langues Juives: de Quelques Thématiques Transversales, Actes du colloque organisé par le Centre de Recherche Français de Jérusalem (2—4 janvier 1996). Maldonado, F. C. R. 1974. Refranero clàsico espanol. Madrid: Taurus ediciones. Campos, J. G. y Barella, A. 1995. Diccionario de refranes. Madrid: Espasa Calpe. Von-Sydow, C. W. 1965. "Folktale Studies and Filology—Some Points of View." En The Study of Folklore. Ed. A. Dundes, New York: Prentice-Hall. 219-243.

E N T R E LA ACEPTACIÔN Y EL RECHAZO LA PRESENCIA JUDIA EN O R Â N , 1 5 8 9 - 1 6 3 9 BEATRIZ ALONSO ACERO C S I C , M a d r i d , Spain

La presencia de judios en Oràn desde su conquista por Espana en 1509 y hasta 1669 es muy significativa respecto a la importancia que se otorga a este reducido nùcleo de poblaciôn en dicha ciudad de Berberia. E n un m o m e n t o en que esta presencia está ya vedada en Espana, serán tan solo algunos enclaves muy concretos de los que forman parte de la Monarquia Hispánica entre 1589 y 1639— àmbito cronolôgico en el que se centra nuestro estudio—los que, a pesar de las medidas adoptadas por los Reyes Catôlicos en 1492, estén autorizados a permitir la presencia de judios en su interior. Siguiendo a J. Israel, en el norte de Africa, Oràn, Ceuta, Larache, Tánger y Mazagán conservan, durante buena parte del siglo XVII, nûcleos de poblaciôn hebrea. 1 El estudio de la presencia judia en O r à n en el periodo propuesto pretende contribuir a fundamentar la relevancia del Judaismo en las relaciones entre Cristiandad e Islam en el m u n d o mediterrán e o d e los siglos XVI y XVII.

E n Oràn, el mayor peso especifico lo tendrán, hasta finales del siglo XV, los herederos de los primeros judios que empezaron a habitar en el norte de Africa, allà por el siglo X a.C. Mientras, los llegados tras el edicto del rey Sisebuto en el ano 613—que obligaba a los judios peninsulares a elegir entre la conversion ο la expulsion—asi c o m o tras las persecuciones de 1391 en diversas zonas de Andalucia y'Levante y tras la definitiva expulsion de 1492, aun reforzando de manera relevante el numéro de hebreos, ejercieron mayor influencia por su valia intelectual que por su magnitud cuandtariva. La comunidad judia oranesa fue expulsada tras la conquista de la plaza, dispersândose por ciudades vecinas c o m o Tremecén, Mostaganem y Honein. Sin embargo, tan solo très anos después, el 30 de enero de 1512, Fernando el Catôlico otorga una cédula al gobernador de Oràn y Mazalquivir, 2 D. Diego Fernández de Côrdoba, autorizando a los judios ape‫ש‬dados Cansino y Bensemerro a vivir en Oràn, uniéndose a Rubi Satorra, que habia quedado c o m o intérprete de árabe desde 1509. 3 A partir de este mom e n t o se puede hablar de juderia propiamente dicha en el O r à n cristiano, muy 1

2

‫נ‬

Israel, J. 1994. "The Jews of Spanish Oran and their Expulsion in 1669." Mediterranean Historical Review 9, 2, 235-255. A partir de 1669 solo hay poblaciôn hebrea dentro de las plazas espanolas de Berberia, en Ceuta y Larache. Orân y Mazalquivir, distantes entre si apenas una légua, se convierten, desde sus respecdvas conquistas (1509 y 1505), en plazas que comparten un ûnico destino, además de un mismo gobierno y administraciôn. Por esta razôn, hay que referirse a ellos como "doble presidio." A(rchiv0) H(istôrico) N(acional). Estado, Leg. 1.749, s.f. / 23 sepdembre 1668. Carta del marqués de los Vêlez, gobernador de Orân y Mazalquivir, a la regente D* Mariana de Austria, cit. por Caro Baroja, J. 1978. Las judios en ta Espana modernay contemporanea. Vol. I. Madrid: Istmo, 231.

prôxima a la alcazaba, y separada del resto de la ciudad por un muro con una puerta de acceso que se cerraba por las noches y era custodiada por un oficial cristiano. 4 El cambio en la acdtud de la Corona respecto a la presencia de judios en Oràn debe explicarse por la forma de entrada de Castilla en Berberia: la ocupaciôn restringida del espacio impide el autoabastecimiento de las guarniciones que se desplazan a este presidio, las cuales pronto empiezan a necesitar de unos envios realizados desde Espafia que no siempre es posible efectuar, y que se irán espaciando en el dempo, conforme se agraven las circunstancias econômicas de la Monarquia, y sean más insalvables las dificultades para cruzar un mar cada vez más Ueno de peligros en forma de corso y pirateria. El ûnico recurso para subsistir en medio de un territorio hostil a los intereses crisdanos va a ser, précisamente, relacionarse con él. La inmediata necesidad de entrar en contacto con los musulmanes del entorno y la comprobaciôn de que la mejor manera de lograrlo es a través de los judios que habian vivido en esta plaza y en su alfoz pues, no en vano, algunos eran herederos de los expulsados en 1391 y / o en 1492 y habian venido manteniendo unas estrechas relaciones con la poblaciôn musulmana, son los factores que establecen los origenes de la coexistencia entre Crisdandad, Judaismo e Islam en este enclave norteafricano. Llegados al final del Quinientos, la situaciôn parece haberse agravado tanto en lo que respecta a las relaciones entre judios y crisdanos, que el fantasma de la expulsion está más présente que en cualquier otro momento desde 1512. La historia de la presencia de los judios en Orán alcanza un capitulo especialmente dramâtico.

Entre la aceptaciôn... La razôn que explica la permanencia de un nûcleo judio en Oràn en las décadas postreras del Quinientos y primeras del Seiscientos no es otra que su profunda e intensa colaboraciôn con los espafioles. Funciones y oficios, de un lado, y cooperaciôn financiera, de otro, fijan la ayuda de los judios a los crisdanos espanoles, gracias a la cual consiguieron perpetuarse en Orán manteniendo sus creencias y sus costumbres. Por lo que respecta a las funciones j oficios, los judios realizarán las más diversas tareas, siempre con el propôsito de llegar a converrirse en personas imprescindibles para la condnuidad de la presencia espafiola en este presidio. Si bien estas labores no definen a todo el nûcleo judio que habita en Orán sino tan solo a unas cuantas familias, su validez 1egitimará al conjunto de la presencia hebrea en esta ciudad. Se trata de tareas que, sin ser privativas de los judios oraneses, 5 si son del todo prioritarias y debido a que los judios habian tomado ventaja en su desempeno desde el primer momento, los crisdanos les consideraron durante muchos anos insustituibles en sus comeddos y fundamentales para la pervivencia espafiola en Orân. En las décadas finales del siglo Epalza, M. de y Vilar, J. B. 1988. Pianos y mapas historicos de Argelia (siglos ΧΙΊ-ΧΙ-W). Madrid: ICMA, 138. E n otras plazas espanolas allende el Estrecho, los judios, habitantes o no en ellas, realizaron funciones y oficios de muy semejante cariz. Asi ocurre en Melilla, donde los judios, aun no viviendo en el interior de la plaza, cuando se allegan a ella lo hacen en calidad de mercaderes, espias y traductores. (Salafranca Ortega, J. F. 1995. Historia de la poblaciôn judia de Melilla desde su concjuista por Espana hasta 1936. Malaga: Algazara, 14).

XVI la situation es diferente: aumentan los recelos hacia la realization de estos oficios tan compromeddos por parte de los judios, al dempo que se comprueba que algunos de ellos también puede ser sadsfactoriamente realizados por crisrianos. Asi, el oficio de lengua e intérprete, uno de los más relevantes dadas las caracterîsdcas de Orân como plaza espanola en el norte de Africa, es desempenado en esta época por los Cansino—familia sefardi procedente de Sevilla.6 Isaac Cansino, que realiza este comeddo entre 1558 y 1599, empieza a recibir, desde 1589, un sueldo de 20 escudos mensuales. Pero justo en estos anos es cuando se decide crear un segundo cargo de lengua que, a diferencia del otro, siempre deberá recaer en un cristiano, dado que algunos espanoles ya conocian la lengua árabe con suficiente profundidad como para poderla leer y escribir sin dificultad. El cargo, que dende a recaer en oficiales de la guarniciôn, será servido sin remuneration, ο, en todo caso, con un salario inferior al cobrado por el intérprete judio. 7 Lo que se busca con la creaciôn de este segundo oficio de lengua es contrarrestar la influencia que los judios intérpretes estaban Uegando a tener en el gobierno de Orân y poder confirmar la veracidad de las informaciones que transmidan, impidiéndoles posibles acciones contrarias a los intereses cristianos. Y es que la participation judia en acdvidades tan fundamentales para la condnuidad espanola en Orân como podian ser en la fijaciôn de los precios del grano entregado por los moros de paz y la recogida de las fanegas provocaba todo d p o de recelos, opinândose que estas "cossas de calidad que es justo las träte ombre que tema a dios... porque en ello va la reputacion y buen nombre de las dichas plaças y la seguridad délias." 8 Por el contrario, también habia quien pensaba que la designation de un cristiano, si bien proporcionaria mayor confianza en la legalidad de su actuation, acabaria por llevar a este oficio a personas de menor preparation y recursos. 9 Algo semejante ocurre con respecto a los judios que ejercen como guias en jornadas y como espias: el peligro que puede conllevar dejar en sus manos tareas tan comprometidas hace que se discuta la conveniencia de que en los aiios postreros del siglo XVI sigan siendo los hebreos de Orân los que desempenen estos oficios. Pero, además, los judios endenden que aún pueden ser más irreemplazables si comparten con los espanoles lo que obtienen de sus actividades agricolas, ganaderas y comerciales. Los judios que poseen arados con los que siembran las escasas pero fértiles tierras del alfoz oranés emplean parte del grano obtenido para su venta directa. En ocasiones, dada la precariedad en el abastecimiento de 6

7

8

9

Los Cansino estuvieron al frente de dieho oficio durante más de cien anos, tal y c o m o refiere Jacob Cansino en el prôlogo a su traducciôn de la obra de Almosnino Moses Ben Baruch, Extremosy grande^as de Constantinopla. Madrid, 1638. La patrimonializaciôn del oficio de lengua en la familia Cansino es evidente. El primer intérprete crisdano, el capitán D. Gil Hernandez de Sotomayor sirve el cargo hasta 1612 sin sueldo, lo mismo que su hermano y sucesor, el capitán D. Fernando de Navarrete, hasta 1618, aunque éste recibe una merced de 15 escudos. A(rchivo) G(eneral) de S(imancas). G(uerra) A(nrigua). Leg. 565, s.f. / 17 mayo 1600. Carta de Cristobal de Heredia, veedor, solicitando la provision del cargo de intérprete en un crisdano en vez de en otro judio, a la muerte de Isaac Cansino. AGS. GA. Leg. 586, s.f. / 3 enero 1601. Carta de D. Francisco de Cordoba y Velasco, conde de Alcaudete.

la guarniciôn, este grano era el recurso al que acudir cuando ni lo enviado desde Espana ni lo comprado a los moros de paz era suficiente para alimentär al ejército alli destacado y a sus familiares. Los judios no dudaban en ponerlo a disposiciôn de las autoridades, aunque, eso si, a unos precios realmente elevados en comparaciôn con los que ofrecian los moros de paz. Los judios comerciantes, por su parte, introducen productos que, fuera de las murallas, suelen vender las tribus musulmanas, a las que estos hebreos se los compran. Panos, aceite, cera, plumas y dâtiles, son algunas de las mercancias que hacen llegar a la ciudad, beneficiando con ellos al conjunto de la poblaciôn alli existente y a la propia real Hacienda, al ser gravadas sus transacciones comerciales con el pago de alcabalas. De igual forma, en muchas ocasiones, este tràfico comercial traspasaba los limites de las derras norteafricanas, con lo que muchos de estos productos acababan abasteciendo a la poblaciôn espafiola de la Peninsula. Pero pronto se empieza a cridcar esta actuaciôn comercial de los judios, acusândoles de incrementar los precios, al tiempo que se denuncia la posibilidad de que su gran poderio econômico termine por ahogar las escasas perspectivas de los pequenos mercaderes naturales de las plazas. En lo referente al pago de alcabalas se apreciarian dificultades en el transcurso de los afios, pues, de ser una renta apetecible para la Corona por el montante anual de su valor, pasa, en la década de los anos 30 del siglo XVII, a disminuir significadvamente, observândose fraudes al respecto por parte de los judios en el pago de las mismas. La realization de todas estas acdvidades supuso la posibilidad—para algunos de estos judios—de amasar importantes fortunas. Ellos, conscientes de la preeminencia social que la posesiôn de dinero les otorgaba, no dudaron en emplear una parte en beneficio de aquellos mecanismos de actuaciôn necesitados de un importante capital para su adecuado funcionamiento. Asi, los judios oraneses se consolidan en las primeras décadas del siglo XVII c o m o los duenos por excelencia de los esclavos musulmanes. Aparte del beneficio que significaba la compra de estos esclavos, gracias a las relaciones entre los judios y sus esclavos era posible acceder a informaciones con respecto a posibles nuevos ataques a moros de guerra, a través de las confesiones que los esclavos les hacen de forma más o menos voluntaria. 10 De la misma forma, los judios se afirman como figuras relevantes en el rescate de crisdanos caudvos en Argel. La labor mediadora de los hebreos en las relaciones entre crisdanos y musulmanes, unida a los frecuentes contactos de estos judios con las regencias berberiscas prôximas a Orán, favorecen su participation en misiones tan principales y arriesgadas como la de llevar a Argel el dinero que hará posible dichos rescates." Por lo que respecta a la coopérationfinanciera, si bien ésta es una funciôn restringida a muy pocas de las familias judias habitantes en Oràn, su importancia contribuyô a fundamentar la pervivencia hebrea en esta plaza. Si tenemos en cuenta los entretenimientos y sueldos cobrados por servicio al rey, son las familias Cansino y Saportas las que obtienen beneficios más altos, del orden de los 1.104 escudos anuales para la primera y de 794 escudos para la segunda, en 10 11

AGS. GA. Leg. 518, fol. 5 / 8 abril 1598. I(nstituto) V(alencia) de D(on) J(uan). Envio 85, fol. 18 / s.a. Memorial de Jacob Cansino.

1627, mientras que de todo el resto de judios habitantes en Orân, solo otras dos familias, la de David Maque y la de Joseph H o b o , cobran entretenimientos que no llegan cada ano ni al 10% de lo que ganan los Cansino y los Saportas en ese mismo afio. 12 Estas familias que consiguieron un elevado nivel de rentas, ejercieron un papel decisivo en el mantenimiento del doble presidio. Y lo hicieron en su vertiente financiera, como prestamistas de aquellas cantidades de dinero que no eran remiddas de Espana con suficiente diligentia y volumen como para satis facer las necesidades más perentorias de la ciudad y, en especial, de su guarniciôn, obteniendo a cambio sustanciosos aumentos en los entretenimientos de los que ya disfrutan o, incluso, accediendo a plazas en el propio ejército c o m o recompensa a su actitud. Dada la precariedad economica de las plazas, referencia directa de lo que ocurna con la real Hacienda, los gobernadores solian encontrarse con muchas dificultades en el m o m e n t o de tener que devolver los préstamos a los judios. Aunque desde Espana se procurase hacer efectiva la recuperation de este dinero, procediendo a consignar determinadas cantidades para pagar estas deudas contraidas con los judios de Orân, la imposibilidad de llevar esto a feliz término hacia temer que los judios no volvieran a colaborar en el sustentamiento de la gente de guerra. Con el paso de los anos, 11egará un momento en que estos judios no puedan seguir socorriendo las necesidades financieras de las plazas, 13 ante lo cual los gobernadores se vieron obligados a tomar medidas tendentes a conminar a los judios a prestar su dinero. 14 La situation economica del doble presidio, especialmente deteriorada en los anos 20 y 30 del Seiscientos, convertirà la voluntad prestamista de los judios en una obligation includible.

... y el rechazo El rechazo cristiano a los judios de Orân encuentra en el incremento demogrâfico hebreo una causa déterminante, de tal forma que este crecimiento marca la historia de los diferentes bandos de expulsion decretados entre 1589-1639. Conforme habia avanzado el siglo XVI, las diez casas de judios autorizadas en Orân por Carlos V en 1534 habian ido creciendo, si bien siempre de forma débil, a causa del estrecho control mantenido por las autoridades. 15 Llegados a los anos finales del Quinientos, las posturas contrarias a la permanencia hebrea en Orân aún se radicalizan más. E n junio de 1591 es el propio gobernador, D. Diego Fernández de Côrdoba, quien ordena la salida de Orân de todos los judios. 16 E n

12 13

14

15

16

B(iblioteca) Z(abá1bun1). Carpeta n° 256, fol. 75 r.-v. / 10 febrero 1627. E n 1625, el Consejo recibe la informaciôn de c o m o se ha pedido dinero a Yaho Saportas para hacer la provision de grano "y ha respondido que no lo dene." (AGS. GA. Leg. 912, s.f. / 2 agosto 1625. Consulta del Consejo) BZ. Carpeta n° 256, fols. 32 r.-33 r . / 8 enero 1626. Copia de carta de D. Antonio Sancho Dàvila a Olivares. AGS. GA. Leg. 514, fol. 19/ 1598. Traslado de cédula real otorgada por Carlos V al conde de Alcaudete, gobernador, el 4 de junio de 1534. AGS. G A. Leg. 514, fol. 19 / 1598. Traslado del original del bando de expulsion decretado por D. Diego Fernández de Côrdoba el 13 de julio de 1591. El gobernador pone en marcha una orden real dada a D. Martin de Côrdoba, que habia desempefiado el cargo de gobernador entre

seguida se estableceria la division entre judios naturales o forasteros segûn hubieran nacido en O r á n — o llevaran más dempo habitando alli—o se hubieran asentado en ella recientemente, division que tuvo una repercusiôn inmediata. E n julio, el gobernador, siguiendo la orden de Felipe II, redime de la expulsion a los judios naturales de Orán. 17 El monarca comprende que su presencia es tan fundamental para la pervivencia de estas plazas en manos espafiolas—por las acdvidades que en ellas desarrollan—que es necesario que siga habiendo un nûcleo judio en Orán, aunque, eso si, nunca demasiado numeroso. Segûn la relaciôn que se hace en este ano, hay un total de 18 casas de judios naturales, que suponen una cifra en torno a las 120-125 personas. A ellos se les va a dejar quedarse, mientras que "los demas judios que ay en la çiudad demas de los contenidos y sefialados en la dicha informaçion dentro del denpo en el dicho vando contenido... salgan destas plaças y no se esten en ellas." 18 E n 1598, ya durante el gobierno de D. Francisco de Côrdoba y Velasco, conde de Alcaudete, resurge con fuerza la idea de la expulsion. El regidor de Orán, Tomâs de Contreras, se dirige a Madrid, donde, en nombre del cabildo, solicitada a Felipe II una cédula por la cual "no aya en aquella ciudad tanto numero de judios como de présente ay mandandolos echar de alli sin dejar mas cassas de las que V.M. dene mandado aya." 19 Contreras pide la reduction de esas 18 casas de judios naturales contenidas en la relaciôn de 1591, a las 10 que ya Carlos V fijara en 1534. Además, el regidor exponia la necesidad de reducir el margen de actuaciôn de los judios que se quedaran, a los cuales se les deberia prohibir tratar y contratar bastimentos, tanto de los moros de paz, como de los que llegan de Espana, asi como impedir que compraran esclavos blancos o negros. El 25 de enero aparece—firmada por el principe Felipe, en nombre de su padre Felipe II—la cédula real por la cual se décréta dicha expulsion. 20 La orden muestra como las razones aducidas por Contreras para la expulsion fueron especialmente tenidas en cuenta en la cédula real, prohibiéndose desde aquel momento a los judios la realization de esas dos actividades, en las que esta minoria habia desempenado un papel decisivo en el àmbito oranés. E n el bando de expulsion se especifica con rotundidad la obligation de salir de la ciudad a todos y cada uno de los judios "vezinos estantes y abitantes en esta diçha çiudad dentro de noventa dias primeros siguientes de la publicaçion deste auto," 21 a exception de aquellos que vivan en diez casas, "numéro que su magestad tiene mandado y permitido abiten en esta çiudad." 22 Sin embargo, para poder realizar con todas las garantias lo expresado en este decreto, era necesario saber de antemano quiénes y cuàntos eran los judios que vivian en Orân. Por ello, se encarga a Isaac

17 18 19 20 21

22

1575-1580 y 1581-1585, y que en su m o m e n t o n o se habia cumplido (AGS. G A . Leg. 324, fol. 227 / 29 agosto 1591. Carta de D. Diego Fernández de Côrdoba). AGS. GA. Leg. 324, fol. 233 / 26 julio 1591. AGS. GA. Leg. 324, fol. 233 / 8 agosto 1591. AGS. GA. Leg. 534, fol. 4 0 / 1 4 enero 1598. AGS. GA. Libros de registro, n° 78, fol. 88 r - v / 25 enero 1598. AGS. G A . Leg. 514, fol. 20 / 24 marzo 1598. Bando de expulsion firmado por D. Francisco de Côrdoba y Velasco. Estas palabras del conde de Alcaudete demuestran cômo Felipe II acatô la cédula real de Carlos V en 1534, por la cual se establecia que el numéro de casas judias en O r â n debia ser de 10.

Cansino una lista en la que debian figurar tanto los nuevos asentados—explicando si su reciente entrada en Orân se debia a un casamiento ό a qué otra eausa—como los naturales y los avecindados desde antiguo. 23 18 casas formaban la juderia oranesa, cifra idéndca a la que la Corona habia permitido en 1591. Según la relation del intérprete, el total de habitantes judios en Orân en junio de 1598 estaria en torno a los 70, de entre los cuales unos 40 serian antiguos y unos 30 avecindados después "que no es numéro considerable en ningun caso." 24 Con ello se observa como, aun habiendo en 1598 el mismo numéro de casas que en 1591, la cifra de judios habia disminuido sensiblemente. ,:Se trata, por tanto, de cifras reaies, ο estamos ante la ocultaciôn consciente de miembros de la comunidad judia por parte de Isaac Cansino, para rebajar la importancia cuantitativa del nùcleo hebreo de Orân? Muerto Felipe II, es su hijo quien, en febrero de 1599, revoca la orden de expulsion, 25 con lo que todos los judios referidos en la lista de Cansino podian seguir viviendo en Orân, y asi lo hicieron. Lo que no parece es que se cumpliera respecto a ellos la voluntad expresada por Felipe III con relation al respeto y buen trato que para con ellos debian mostrar los crisuanos: en julio de 1605, el monarca ordena al gobernador D. Juan Ramirez de G u z m á n que haga cumplir en la ciudad lo expresado en la cédula de 1599, intentando hacer realidad el propôsito de que los judios sean tratados con absoluta igualdad en relation con el resto de habitantes de las plazas. 26 E n 1611, el bando de D. Felipe Ramirez de Arellano senala que desde 1599 ha crecido de forma importante el numéro de casas existentes y el de judios avecindados, hecho que considéra que "demas de contrabenir a la boluntad de S. M. esta esta çiudad ocupada de gente ynutil y sin provecho." 2 7 Para aquellos judios que han llegado a la ciudad desde entonces, aunque haya sido al casar con alguna mujer perteneciente a alguna de las dieciocho casas permitidas, se décréta la expulsion en un plazo màximo de très meses. De entre los judios naturales ninguno podria entrar ni salir de la ciudad sin permiso previo del gobernador, ni podrân comprar casa—ni ningun cristiano vendérsela—sin antes darle cuenta de ello. E n 1613 se le pide al gobernador que "avise que numéro de casas de judios ay alli y con que numéro de gente cada una." 28 El total recoge diecinueve casas, tan solo una más de las permitidas, donde viven hasta 277 judios, lo que supone casi cuatro veces más de los avecindados en 1598. Un testimonio nos lleva a pensar que esto no puede explicarse tan solo por la multiplication de los judios naturales referidos en la lista de 1598: en el memorial de Sebastián de la Fuente, con 40 anos de servicio en Orân, se afirma que, "en todo este dicho tiempo no a visto en la juderia lo que de un ano y medio a esta parte a visto y que es averse 23

24

25 26 27

28

AGS. GA. Leg. 518, fol. 4 / 3 junio 1598. Para una consulta de esta lista vid. Alonso Acero, B. 1997. Orân y Ma^alquivir en la politico norteafricana de Espana, 1589-1639. Tesis doctoral inédita. (Madrid, U. Complutense), 393-4. AGS. GA. Leg. 518, fol. 3 / agosto 1598. D. Mardn de Côrdoba a Felipe II sobre la permanencia de judios en Orân. AGS. GA. Leg. 642, s.f. / 1605. A G S . G A . Leg. 708, s . f . / 1605. AGS. G A . Leg. 786, s.f. / 10 agosto 1613. Traslado del bando del conde de Aguilar, con fecha 14 de enero de 1611. AGS. GA. Leg. 786, s.f. / 10 agosto 1613. Cf. Alonso Acero 1997: 398.

venido a la dicha juderia mas de ciento cinquenta vecinos judios a vivir en ella no aviendo visto en todo este dempo mas de treinta casas en ella."29 Este testimonio confirma la idea de que lo que provoca el incremento en las cifras es, más bien, la llegada de numerosos judios—desde comienzos de 1612—que, dado que no pueden crear sus propias casas—en el senddo de familias—son acogidos por los titulares de casas ya existentes, consdtuyendo el conjunto de judios que la lista de agosto de 1613 recoge, pero sin dar nombres y apellidos, siendo posible que muchos de ellos no fueran familiares de aquellos que les acogieron. Esto demuestra la escasa valia prácdca de las medidas adoptadas por el gobierno de Orân en 1611, pues aunque se controlaba a los judios andguos para que no entraran ni salieran de la ciudad sin permiso, y para que no compraran nuevas casas sin dar cuenta de ello, seguian entrando nuevos judios y en altas cantidades. El crecimiento en las décadas preliminares a la definitiva expulsion de 1669 no parece deberse a nuevas oleadas de judios que entran en Orân, sino al matrimonio de los existentes con otros que vienen de fuera. 30 Por lo que a la inasimilaäön se refiere, eran numerosos los problemas en la relation con la comunidad hebrea, tanto con aquellos miembros de cuya presencia a priori no se podian obtener los beneficios por los cuales se toleraba a este grupo en Orân, como con aquellos otros que desempenaban las relevantes funciones que justificaban la continuidad de los judios en estas latitudes. A los primeros, se les consideraba poblaciôn ociosa, directamente implicada en los problemas de vivienda que el crecimiento demogrâfico de esta comunidad traia consigo. A los segundos, se les recriminaban los desôrdenes, excesos y abusos que cometian en las actividades que realizan. A unos y a otros se les engloba bajo el calificativo de gente non grata por la inasimilaciôn existente hacia una lengua, unas costumbres, y sobre todo, hacia una religion y una cultura diferentes.31 C o m o se ha visto, cada una de las relevantes funciones desempenadas por los judios oraneses tenia alguna vertiente que se convertia en objeto de critica para los cristianos. Pero lo que está latente por debajo de estas criticas y quejas es más bien la falta previa de aceptaciôn de unas formas culturales y religiosas diferentes, que se traducen en unos métodos de actuation muy distintos a los que el cristiano concibe como adecuados, siempre dentro de la debida ortodoxia. Ese rechazo preexistente, heredero de la escasa asimilaciôn judia en los territorios peninsulares previa a los acontecimientos de 1492, está en la base de tantos testimonios contrarios a la actuation de la comunidad hebrea en Orân, en cualquiera de sus vertientes. A las muestras de rechazo manifestadas por vecinos y soldados, hay que unir la voluntad de algunos gobernadores y eclesiâsticos también contrarios a la continuidad judia en Orân. E n el caso de los primeros, la norma general muestra a estas autoridades persuadidas a seguir las directrices de protection que marca la Corona con relation a esta comunidad. Mas el juicio contrario a la permanencia de los judios en Orân también es posible oirlo en boca de más de uno de estos gobernadores: de ellos—y no de la Corona—tien-

29 30 31

AGS. GA. Leg. 785, s.f./ 19 abril 1613. Memorial de Sebastian de la Fuente. AGS. G A. Leg. 887, s.f. / abril 1622. Carta de D. Juan Manrique de Cardenas. Cardaillae, L. 1979. Moriscosy cristianos, un enfrentamientopolémico (1492-1640). Madrid: F.C.E. 53.

de a partir la iniciadva que supone la promulgaciôn de bandos de expulsion para este nûcleo hebreo y ellos suelen ser los que más alertan a la Corona de los peligros derivados de la conunuidad judia en Orân. Por su parte, cuando la Iglesia se pronuncia respecto al tema de los judios, también intenta apoyarse en los inconvenientes que resultan de su convivencia con los crisdanos de la plaza. A pesar de la transigencia mostrada para con los judios de Orân durante más de un siglo,32 el deseo de acentuar la vigilancia respecto a esta comunidad y la practica de sus creencias, hace posible que, en 1628, el comisario de la Inquisiciôn en Orân sea enviado a la juderia para "saber si entre los hebreos que residen en dicha çiudad havia algunos libros que llaman el talmud." 33 Los ataques a los pilares del judaismo se generalizan, tanto en lo relativo a la practica pûblica de la religion—en la sinagoga—como en lo referente a la lectura privada del libro sagrado, persiguiéndose de forma especial la posible difusiôn de las doctrinas hebreas entre la poblaciôn cristiana de Orân. Los judios encontrarân en la Corona—siempre guiada por las recomendaciones previas del Consejo de Guerra—a su principal valedor. Aunque, al final, la decision de su expulsion definitiva procéda de ella, como no cabia otra opciôn, durante todo el siglo XVI y casi setenta aiïos del siglo X V I I , si los judios se perpetûan en Orân a pesar de todas las dificultades que se les plantean, lo deben a la protecciôn que reciben desde Madrid: desde Fernando el Catôlico hasta Felipe IV, todos los monarcas conocen suficientemente la importancia de la labor desempenada por los judios en Orân, amén de los beneficios que de sus acdvidades reciben la poblaciôn espafiola de la Peninsula y las propias areas reales. Por ello, la Corona protege y defiende a estos judios, y aunque se mantiene firme en su deseo de impedir que su nûmero se desborde, les alienta para que sigan colaborando en el mantenimiento de una plaza en la que la precariedad de la real Hacienda impide actuar en su debida medida. Y cuando la situaciôn se torne más oscura para los hebreos, la Corona también reacciona con la suficiente presteza para impedir que se prolonguen en demasia comportamientos claramente ofensivos, c o m o ocurre con D. Juan Manrique de Cárdenas, uno de los gobernadores más contrarios a la poblaciôn hebrea de Orân a quien Felipe IV dirige, en junio de 1623, una carta en la que ni una sola linea deja de expresar el amparo de la Corona a los judios de Orân. 34 Aunque las ôrdenes protegen de forma especial a las familias Cansino y Saportas, Felipe IV extiende su amparo al conjunto de los judios oraneses, no admitiendo ninguno de los procedimientos empleados por el gobernador para su control y vigilancia. Sin embargo, a estas alturas del Seiscientos, la protecciôn a los hebreos resultaba insuficiente frente a una posibilidad de convivencia ya desechada para la Espana peninsular desde 1492. Tan solo treinta anos después, en 1669, durante la regen-

32

33

34

Segûn D. Martin de Côrdoba, ni Carlos V ni Felipe II habian permiddo que el Santo Oficio se entromedera con los judios de Orân, hecho por el cual se congratulaba el ex-gobernador de las plazas. (AGS. G A . Leg. 518, fol. 5 / a g o s t o 1598). A H N . Inquisiciôn. Leg. 2022 / 45, fol. l r / Ano 1628. Causas presentadas ante el tribunal del Santo Oficio de Murcia. A H N . Codices, Libro n° 1384, fols. 223v-224r / Madrid, 9 junio 1623. Felipe IV a D. Juan Manrique de Cárdenas.

cia de Mariana de Austria, los judios serian definirivamente expulsados: el precario equilibrio de fuerzas favorables y contrarias a la continuidad de la presencia judia en Orân acaba por inclinarse del lado del rechazo y los judios son obligados a salir del territorio en el que habian habitado durante varias generaciones, cerrando asi un importante episodio de la presencia judia en un enclave espanol después de 1492. Mas, de manera muy significariva, se volverà a permitir la entrada de judios en Orân en 1734, después de que la plaza sea de nuevo tomada por Espana en 1732.

T H E R O L E OF J U D E O - S P A N I S H IN T H E FRAMEWORK OF T H E T U R K I S H J E W I S H COLLECTIVE IDENTITY MARY ALTABEV Hove, Uk

Abstract This paper aims to interpret the relationship between Judeo-Spanish and the Turkish Jewish collecdve idendty. It will focus on language as one of the salient components of the Turkish Jews' social identity, bearing in mind that it is only one of the features among several group-identity markers such as nation, ethnicity, gender, age, and not necessarily linked directly to group identity. After a brief description of the study's theoretical and methodological framework, I go on to discuss the language(s) included in the Turkish Jewish linguistic repertoire, and in particular, the role of Judeo-Spanish in the construction of their collective identity.

Theory & Methodology T h e aim of the research was to record and analyse evaluations of Judeo-Spanish by the speech community members themselves. I follow Cohen's (1985) and Gumperz's (1982) theories of community and ethnicity. They both focus on the individual who "acquires culture" through her/his experience in the community, giving h e r / h i m the c o m m o n denominator for interpreting the meaning of the shared symbols (Gumperz 1982). As in Street's cultural paradigm, the important thing is not what community is but what it does (Street 1993: 25). T o rephrase and apply it to the particular case of the Turkish Jews, one can have different ethnicities: a Sephardic Jew, an Arab Jew or an Ashkenazi Jew, can trace one's roots to different localities in the past, but the fact that one lives and, most importandy, socialises in the confines of Istanbul Jewish community makes one share the meaning of certain symbols regardless of the language in use (Gumperz 1972). T h e main method of data gathering was participant observation: "living with and as the people one studies" (Ellen 1984: 23). It was completed during two periods of fieldwork in Istanbul in 1994—95. T h e data also include 69 questionnaires, 41 hours of recorded formal and informal interviews, and verbatim notes of natural conversations. Previous international and Turkish studies and articles from the community newspaper §alom were added to the main data corpus with the purpose of supplementing and cross-checking the fieldwork data. T h e qualitative analysis of the data focused on "what is going o n " and how the Turkish Jews made sense of the erosion of Judeo-Spanish. T h e unit of re-

search is the Turkish Jew, whether or not s / h e speaks Judeo-Spanish. It was considered that the speakers' self-evaluation in a stigmatised language would present difficulties in the sense that: a) some speakers deny or fake only partial knowledge (Watson, 1989); b) since there is not an accepted standard for the language, testing can produce inaccurate results; c) the placement of the "semispeaker" within the speaker/non-speaker spectrum is problematic (Dorian 1978); d) the non-speaker in certain cases, by refusing to learn or to speak the language is the active resistance to Judeo-Spanish's survival.

Turkish Jewish identity The Turkish Jews are mainly of Sephardic descent or mixed with other Eastern Jews who are nearer in life style to them or try to adopt the Sephardic Turkish Jewish life style, and do not present a state of competition. Most think in terms of Sephardic culture as their c o m m o n culture. The number of Ashkenazim within the Turkish Jewish community is not high (estimated at about less than 5% of the total Turkish Jewish population). This study's results suggest that internal differences became apparent, and internal boundaries of otherness were only clear in the presence of the "other." Otherwise, on the whole, internal differences were considered as superficial. Rather than Sephardic or Ashkenazi identity, Jewish identity as a whole was perceived as numerically and culturally threatened and the participants thought that it might at this rate disappear in Turkey. For the Turkish Jews, identity is grounded mainly on the difference between "Jewish" versus "Turkish." And in popular speech "Turkish" includes the Muslim religious component. Although it is never mentioned as such, "Turkish," used on its own, by implication means "Muslim" in general (Akçam 1995; Bora 1995; Lewis 1961). Subsequendy, "non-Muslim" is easily related to the realm of "foreignness." The expression of the boundaries through bigler, "us," and siller, "you" (plural) is a common linguistic strategy used both among Muslims and J e w s — w h o sometimes switch to Judeo-Spanish and use eyos, "them." The attribute of "foreign" is not only given; it is at the same time internalised by the Turkish Jews and reflects itself in their daily behaviour. For example it surfaced in the case of a folklore evening at a Jewish social club. The show was about Jewish history told with the aid of folk songs and dance. Immigration to Israel was described aided by various folk songs and dances related to the communities which arrived at different points of time. In the end, all the cultures, including Palestinian culture was represented. Interestingly there was not one sample of Turkish Jewish or Sephardic folklore sample unless one includes the last song which was a modern Turkish pop song. According to later expianations they had not excluded it on purpose, it just did not occur to them! Other participants pointed out the Eastern folklore samples, saying that they were very similar to the Turkish folklore. I argue that this is indicative of the ambivalence in the Turkish Jewish collective identity. They strive to be included in the Turkish national identity; however, the exclusion is so much a part of their lives that they do not even think of their Turkishness when representing themselves in a cultural show as they do to

other Jewish cultures. Moreover, the participants of this study considered themselves "Orientals" in the sense that they perceived their culture to be almost the same as for example, the Yemenite, Moroccan, Tunisian, Iraqi Jewish culture. So much so, that they did not feel that a separate representation was needed. Following this, the principal assumption of this study is that the Turkish Jewish social identity separates them as a whole, from the mainstream society. This, therefore, requires attention to the concept of "boundaries" and one of the important boundary markers is the Turkish Jews' different linguistic repertoire.

Turkish Jewish linguistic repertoire Emancipation during the twentieth century, in the form of full citizenship under the Turkish Republic, presented the Turkish Jews with a legitimate national identity without a direct threat to their religious identity. They adopted the Turkish national language, based on the assumption of integration and social mobility direcdy related to the ideology of a unified nation cemented by a comm o n language. This move was not a difficult one. With the aid of the Alliance's Eurocentric discourse the general belief had already been established that JudeoSpanish was the language of the uneducated Eastern Jew (Rodrigue 1990). French, as the language of high culture and modernity, had already made its way, into both the urban/educated Jewish and Muslim linguistic repertoire through the military and missionary schools which had established themselves in the O t t o m a n Empire towards the end of the eighteenth century (Lewis 1961). The fact that the Eurocentric discourse was internalised by the intellectuals from the broader Muslim society as well as by Jewish society had a double impact on the construction of the Turkish Jewish idendty. Emulation of the Western values became an imperative endorsed both by the nationalist discourse through Turkish, and the elitist discourse through French (Altabev, in press). It is important to underline that the adoption of Turkish did not include the dismissal of French, but only the demise of the already impaired Judeo- Spanish. Thus, Turkish became the everyday communicative tool for the Turkish Jewish community, competing with, and lately overtaking French, as a prestige and modernity marker (Bornes-Varol 1982). Even so, at least in the transition period, which approximately stretches until the late 1950s, the variety of Turkish the Turkish Jews used was considered to be a non-standard Turkish. Today, some of the community members argue that the quality of Turkish used especially by the young generation is equal to the standard Turkish used by the majority. Paradoxically, they also argue that they can identify a community member "as soon as they open their m o u t h " (fieldwork data, 1995), an issue which will be expanded on in the next part of this paper.

Languages as boundary markers The data from the questionnaires show that the Turkish Jews are highly multilingual. A m o n g others, Judeo-Spanish, 1 French and English are the most commonly spoken languages. Although knowledge of Hebrew is regarded as desirable, it is still rare to find members of the community who can speak it fluendy or use it daily even in the private domain of their homes. Turkish is the sole official national language and has been adopted as the main daily language by the Turkish Jews. However, codeswitching and "speaking differendy" is used as an identity marker as well as or instead of Judeo-Spanish as a separate language. The Turkish Jews' constant switching from Turkish into French or JudeoSpanish and recendy to English (by the young generation) became a permanent feature of the Turkish Jewish linguistic repertoire, used both for stylistic effect and to substitute for lexical items unknown in Turkish. Both minority and majority speakers use codeswitching into French a n d / o r English depending on the age group, education of the speaker and the speech context. Nevertheless, their evaluation depends on the speakers' additional identity markers such as a different accent, or a non-Muslim name. Whilst codeswitching by a Turkish Muslim may be perceived positively as a sign of modernity, professionalism, the same strategy may be perceived as the non-standard way of speaking Turkish and negatively, by a speaker who belongs to a religious minority. In addition to signalling identity, the choice of language during the process of codeswitching functions as a boundary marker, and as such, it can be a medium for inclusion or exclusion from the social or ethnic group. Even in intragroup situations, the common language, Judeo-Spanish, or the codeswitching from Judeo-Spanish, can create a social boundary of exclusion rather than inclusion. In agreement with Saul's observation, codeswitching from Judeo-Spanish is still a negative element in the Turkish Jewish linguistic repertoire in certain speech situations (Saul 1983: 346). Moreover, most participants of this study claimed that they could identify a Turkish Jew from "their way of speaking." They maintained that this was possible whether the speakers used Judeo-Spanish or not, and even if they used standard Turkish. Judeo-Spanish is alleged to be the main influence on the nonstandard speech for various reasons. It is argued that because the Turkish Jews spoke/speak Judeo-Spanish at home, they do not speak standard Turkish. That is, Judeo-Spanish was blamed for the accent which is carried into Turkish. In other words, the speaker's use of different sets of linguistic conventions (conscious or otherwise), such as the tone of voice, pitch, accent, emphases, signal their specific identity (Gumperz 1972). An identity, which according to the participants, carried a negative value in most cases associated with the use of JudeoSpanish and the transfer of its prosodie features into Turkish. Although this was

T h e data gathered from the quesdonnaires of this study indicates that among the 4 1 - 6 0 age group, 100% evaluated themselves as Judeo-Spanish speakers; among the age group 26—40, 79% did so, and among the age group 17—25, 63% did so. T h e community newspaper §alom's 1994 survey shows the propordon of Judeo-Spanish speakers as 90% for the age group 50+, and 56% for the age group 2 0 - 3 5 (Altabev, in press).

denied by some, the fact that I was always presented with the "exceptions who spoke like Muslims" proves in some way that there is a "Jewish way of speaking Turkish" and that this linguistic feature is used as an identity marker. The "accent problem" for some of the participants was important to such an extent that the opposite, that is, a Turkish Jew speaking with a Muslim accent became a source of pride (also Saul 1983: 345). Based on these premises, I suggest that as a result of the marginal identity that Judeo-Spanish reflected in the past, and the secondary position the Sephardie ethnicity is placed in the present day, the Turkish Jewish community is reluctant to use Judeo-Spanish even partially, in the form of codeswitching, or identify with it, at least in public. 2 As a consequence, in addition to codeswitching, what linguistically differendate the Turkish Jews from the Turkish Muslims are some different features of their Turkish speech patterns. In this respect, Judeo-Spanish, as a different linguistic system is not a necessary feature in the current Turkish Jew identity kit. "Speaking [Turkish] Differendy," in comparison to the majority, fulfils the same function of an identity marker. In summary, the Turkish Jews switched first to French as a language of prestige, and later on to Turkish as the national language. The partial switch from Judeo-Spanish to French and then Turkish left residual marks in the linguistic and metalinguistic features of their spoken Turkish. They did, and still, to some extent do "speak Turkish differendy." I have also argued that the Turkish Jewish idendty is marginal because they feel that they are not considered as part of the national majority mainly because of their different religion. T h e difference is apparent in most non-Muslim names, and the non-standard way of speaking Turkish. As a consequence the Turkish Jews distance themselves from the old image of Judeo-Spanish and do not want to identify with it. Although a new and positive image of JudeoSpanish is building up, for the moment the binding agent and the main identity marker of the community has been replaced by their different way of speaking Turkish.

References Akçam, T. 1995. "Hyzla Türklejiyoruz." [We are Turkifying swiftly] Birikim 71-72, 1 7 30. Altabev, M. (in press). " T h e effect of the dominant discourse(s) in the vitality of Judeo-

Spanish in the Turkish social context." Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development.

However, it has to be pointed out that recent socio-historical changes have had some posidve effects on the perception of Judeo-Spanish. T h a t is, recent changes in international and national discursive practices on ethnicity, culture and language have altered the Turkish Jews' views on the value of Judeo-Spanish. Some of the community members have started to mention the value of the language as a heirloom, its practical uses abroad as an international language, and its value in helping learning other Latin based languages.

Bora, T. 1995. "Tiirkiye'de milliyetçilik ve azinkklar." [Nationahsm and minority in Turkey] Birikim 71-72, 34-49. Bornes-Varol, M. C. 1991. Le Judéo-Espagnol vemaculaire d'Istanbul. (Etude linguistique). Thesis presented to the University of Sorbonne, Langues Orientales. Paris: Unpublished. Cohen, A. P. 1985. The Symbolic Construction of Community. London: Roudedge. Ellen, R. 1984. Ethnographic Research. London: Academic Press. Gumperz, J. J. 1972. "Introduction." In Directions in Sociolinguistics. The Ethnography of Communication. Ed. J. J. Gumperz & D. Hymes. New York: Holt, Reinhart and Winston, 1-25. , 1982. Discourse Strategies. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Lewis, B. 1961. The Emergence of Modern Turkey. London: O x f o r d University Press. Rodrigue, A. 1990. French Jews, Turkish Jews. The Alliance Israélite Universelle and the Politics of the Jewish Schooling in Turkey, 1860-1925. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Saul, M. 1983. "The mother tongue of the polyglot: Cosmopolitanism and nationalism among the Sepharadim of Istanbul." Anthropological Linguistics 25-3, 326—358. Street, Β. V. 1993. "Culture is a Verb: Anthropological aspects of language and cultural process." In Language and Culture. Ed. D. Graddol, L. T h o m p s o n , & M. Byram. Clevedon: BAAL and Multilingual Matters, 23-43. Watson, S. 1989. "Scottish and Irish Gaelic: The giant's bed-fellows." In Investigating Obsolescence. Ed. N. C. Dorian. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 41—61.

A S P E C T O S DEL N E O J U D E O E S P A N O L EN EL ME 'AM LO 'EZ SIR

HAŠIRIM

ROSA ASENJO France

Introduction E n esta comunicaciôn pretendo centrarme en la influencia del francés en el judeoespanol literario de la segunda mitad del siglo XIX, tal y c o m o se refleja en el libro Me'am Lo'e% Sir Halirim (MLSH), haciendo hincapié en ciertos aspectos, fundamentalmente léxicos, que pueden suponer una manifestation extrema de tal influencia.

El MLSH El MLSH, escrito por Hayim Yišhac Šaki en Constantinopla (1898-99) es el ultimo de los libros de la serie del ML, la llamada "enciclopedia popular" del sefardismo (Molho 1945) comenzada por Yacob Juli en el siglo XVIII con el propôsito de comentar los libros de la Biblia utilizando la lengua vernâcula, el judeoespanol. Esta idea básica condnua siendo utilizada en el resto de la serie, pero debe adaptarse a las condiciones de cada momento. E n este sentido, el autor del MLSH comenta e interpréta el Cantar de los Cantares en judeoespanol segûn lo explica en la introduction (6-7) E s ansi que m u c h o s sabios antiguos y m o d e r n o s declaran este libro cada u n o de una manera; [...] E s t o s declaros son escritos, bien entendido, en ίαίόη hacodei, de manera que pueden entenderlo solamente los que son versados en la cencia y en la literatura hebraica; p e r o aqueos de nuestros h e r m a n o s que n o son tanto sabidos ni c o n o c e n la cencia, malgrado todas sus confienza en nuestros antiguos sabios y en sus ideas sobre este libro, quedan muy pensatibles y n o se les aresenta sus corazôn a cuàlo atriuir cada verso y verso de este libro, muy p o c o entendible p o r ellos. E s d u n q u e sobre este e s c o p o que m e determini de declarar este santo libro en la lengua espafiola, lengua conocida por horas p o r la mayor parte de nuestros coreligionarios del Oriente, en un lenguaje coriente y entendible, con el e s c o p o que nuestros queridos h e r m a n o s se hagan una idea más ο m e n o s del espiritu y lo c o n t e n i d o de este santo libro.

Sin embargo, el MLSH es un caso extremo en ambos aspectos (interpretaciôn y lengua utilizada) porque el autor hace uso de las ideas modernas que han llegado a la sociedad traditional judeoespanola en un lenguaje también moderno. Asi, se distingue de las dos etapas anteriores (ML clàsico y M L de transition), en que es una obra más de creation personal que de simple divulgation de fuentes religio-

La transcripciôn sigue las normas dadas por I. M. Hassán en Estudios Sefardies 1, 1978, 147-150.

sas y que utiliza una lengua que refleja el cambio operado en la segunda mitad del siglo XIX. Es en este segundo aspecto en el que me voy a concentrar.

Neojudeoespanol Después de la formation de la koiné en los siglos X V I - X V 1 I y del periodo clàsico castizo del XVIII, el judeoespanol inicia en la segunda mitad del siglo XIX una nueva etapa, que ha sido denominada "neojudeoespanol" por E. Romero (Romero 1992: 23) y "judeofranol" por H. V. Sephiha (entre otros ardculos, Sephiha 1973). Esta etapa se caracteriza por un proceso de rerromanizaciôn de la lengua, debido fundamentalmente a la influencia del francés, ensenado como lengua de prestigio en las escuelas de la Alliance Israélite Universelle abiertas en las principales áreas de asentamiento sefardi a partir de 1860. Si bien el francés impregnará todas las capas sociales, será en la superior donde dejará sentir su peso con más fuerza, tanto en la lengua hablada como en la escrita. E n este ultimo aspecto, el MLSH es una muestra de este nuevo judeo‫־‬ espanol literario. ο

Influencia del francés La influencia del francés, como hemos indicado, se manifiesta ante todo en las ideas que aporta. 2 Un ejemplo en el libro que comento es la implication del autor en las explicaciones que ofrece a través de incisos del dpo: según difimos, según mi poca idea, me pareciô convertible [escoger las ideas] que meparecen mas ra^onables, etc. Este proceso de modernization, sin embargo, no es completo. Asi, para el autor el concepto de asimiladôn, tan en boga en la época, no es el camino para evitar sufrimientos al pueblo judio ni su forma de salvation sino la firmeza en la fe (explication del versiculo 14 del capitulo 2): Y es que el autor de este sir quiso ser romez de pasada a que n o nos vayamos detrás de_la idea yerada de algunos de nuestros coreligionarios, que viendo las persecuciones y los males que están somportando nuestros hermanos en aigunas partes de_la Evropa y pretendiendo que todo esto depende de_la pešgadumbre de nuestros usos y de nuestro culto que nos desparte tanto de_los usos de nuestros contrarios, se imaginan de remediar este negro estado con asemejarnos a ellos en abandonando nuestros usos sagrados y en dando de pasada sobre muchas encomendanzas de nuestra santa religion, y pensan que de esta manera se tiene que alivianar el yugo pesgado y los males de nuestro puebio. Pero debemos saber que esto es una idea muy yerada: no es de esta manera que nuestro pueblo tiene la esperanza de ser delibrado (escapado) de sus ansias, es justamente al contrario. Es en haciendo la veluntad del Criador y conformândomos a todos sus comandos que tenemos la esperanza que se va apiadar de nosotros y va escaparnos de todas nuestras angustias, no es en haciendo contra su veluntad y su ley santa.

Y pone el ejemplo de la zorra y los pescados tornado del Talmud, 3 donde la raposa dice a los peces que si están en peligro en el agua, que salgan de alli y se 2

3

Ver Hassán 1982: 25—44 y Diaz-Mas 1989: 143-53 para una vision general de la influencia del francés en la literatura sefardi. Berajot 61b.

junten con ella y los peces la tratan de loca al tratar de exponerles a un peligro mayor. Y condnùa: Esto es un doctrino del pastor neemán M0šé que todo üempo que por nuestros pecados nos topamos en cativerio sin ningún abrigo y protecciôn, que no nos sonbaigamos detrás de_la vista de nuestros ojos de bušcar a remediar nuestros males con abandonar los usos sagrados de nuestro culto y asemejarnos a nuestros adversarios por series agradables por tener reposo y gozar de vicios de este mundo, que si hacemos ansi, toda nuestra pena será inutil (en baldes) [...], que aunque a_la aparencia parece haber con esto un poco de resfolgo, ma a_la fin del conto es }usto al contrario, y en lugar de obtener de nuestros enemigos sus favor en paga de nuestra asimilaciôn (asemejanza) a sus usos, nos aborecen más mucho y bušcan alejarsen de nosotros y exterminarnos con mucha enemistad, segûn lo estamos viendo en muchas partes de_la Evropa.

La lengua no solo va a servir como vehiculo de introducciôn de ideas, sino que se va a convertir en el ejemplo más claro del proceso de galificaciôn/ rerromanizaciôn del judeoespanol (y en este senudo, a veces es dificil deslindar la frontera entre el francés y otras lenguas românicas que contribuyeron al proceso de formaciôn del judeoespanol, c o m o el italiano o el portugués en menor medida y que trataré más adelante). Estos son algunos ejemplos, que no pretenden ser exhausdvos, en los diferentes niveles lingûisdcos: 1. E n los niveles fonédco y fonolôgico 4 la pronunciation francesa aparece claramente en palabras como atanciôn (fr. attention) o inpardonable (fr. impardonnable). E n cierta medida, el francés también ha contribuido a mantener ciertos rasgos dpicos del judeoespanol, como el yeismo y la consiguiente pérdida de -II-: cabalen'a (fr. cavalerie), maravia (fr. marawe),famia (fr. famille?) o el mantenimiento d e / - : fuye {it. fuir), refusa (fr. refuser). Sin embargo, de otra parte, ha detenido otros com o la metátesis -rd->-dr-, que vacila (recodro/recordo, guadrar/guardar) o el paso de n->m- en los pronombres: mos, que apenas aparece en el texto, frente a nos. 2. E n los niveles morfolôgico y sintâctico, entre otros fenômenos, se tiende a marcar la diferenciaciôn de género en -0/-a (Sephiha 1976: XXXIV): idolatro, ayudo, clasa, sublima·, se usan sufijos como -an%a, que evidentemente exisda en el espafiol medieval, pero que puede verse reforzado por el italiano -an%a y el francés -ance (Stern 1984: 483): abondan^a (fr. abondance, it. abbondan^a), important? (fr. importance, it. importan^à), inoran^a (fr. ignorance, it. ignoran^a); la concordancia de los posesivos se hace con el poseedor. sus fin [de ellos], sus buen giiesmo, en relaciôn con el leur francés, pero también con el sistema de los posesivos en turco; los préstamos verbales, en su mayoria pertenecientes al grupo en -er del francés se incorporan en gran parte al grupo de la primera conjugation: acceptor (fr. accepter), corijar (fr. corriger), encurajar (fr. encourager), posedar (fr. posséder), proposar (fr. U n o de los aspectos más destacados es el desplazamiento acentual hacia la ultima silaba en consonancia con la pronunciaciôn francesa. Aunque el texto original aljamiado no da ningún ripo de indicaciön sobre la colocaciôn del acento, parece evidente que seguiria este proceso, y asi he transcrito determinadas palabras: util, inutil, facil, dificil, esteril (en el texto aparece el plural estri/es, con pérdida de la que séria la vocal tônica en espanol), Asia, Mesopotamia, Biblia, modestia, etc. A este respecto cf. Jerusalmi 1990: 24

proposer), protejar (fr. protéger), repetar (fr. répéter), aunque también las otras dos conjugaciones reciben, en menor medida, préstamos: composer (fr. composer), permeter (fr. permettre), executir (fr. exécuter). El fenômeno más visible séria el de los cambios sufridos en el régimen preposicional de los verbos. Ejemplos: - L a perifrasis de futuro ir a + infwitivo puede aparecer con la preposiciôn, como en espanol, ο sin ella, como en francés aller + infinitivo·. va divor^ar, va guerrear, iba ser. —Aparece el giro en + gerundio (gerundio en espanol):?« abandonando, en lavdndose, en pagândote, en prometiéndole, en saliendo. - O t r o s calcos del régimen preposicional francés: arabiar sobre (fr. enrager sur), recibi sobre mi (fr. recevoir suή, se acercara de mi (fr. s'approcher dé), se permete de (fr. permettre dé), recibi de (fr. recevoir dé), ο los valores de finalidad de por y a + infinitive‫׳‬, por alabar, por consolar, a sostener, etc. 3. En el nivel léxico-semândco, el préstamo de palabras ο expresiones tomadas del francés es el aspecto más destacable en el proceso que estoy comentando. C o m o ya he indicado, en ciertas ocasiones puede ser dificil decidir a qué lengua românica adscribir determinado vocablo, 5 y nos encontramos con algunos relacionados con el espanol anterior a 1492, "arcaismos" del dpo quitar ('dejar, abandonar,' fr. quitter), defender ('prohibir,' fr. defendré), ο con otras lenguas como contente (portugués contente, fr. content) ο el italiano, del que ya he aportado algùn ejemplo, otros pueden ser: cualitá (it. qualità , fr. qualité ), dunque (it. dunque, fr. donc), inteli£en%a (it. intelligent, fr. intelligence), maladia (it. malattia, fr. maladie), malgrado (it. malgrado, fr. malgré), rango (it. rango, fr. rang), raporto (it. rapporte, fr. rapport), senso (it. senso, fr. sens), verso (it. verso, fr. vers), etc. Una pequena lista de galicismos (palabras y expresiones con mayor ο menor grado de integraciôn al sistema del judeoespanol) que aparecen en el texto incluye: avantaje (fr. avantagé), bienfecencia (fr. bienfaisance), curaje (fr. courage), espirituosa (fr. spiritueux), favori^ada (fr. favoriser), malhorosamente (fr. malheureusement), parfumaria (fr. parfumerie), peruca (fr. perruque), promenada (fr. promenade), regretar (fr. regretter), respectar (fr. respecter), a este sujeto (fr. à ce sujet), al punto que (fr. à tel point que), del espanto no sea que (fr. de peur qué), él mismo (fr. lui même, como manera de enfadzar), hacer atanàôn (h. faire attention), otro que (fr. outre qué), por tanto (que) {it. pourtant), etc. E n este ultimo nivel, el autor parece utilizar un neojudeoespanol aún más romanizado, más ennoblecido, más literario en suma, que el usado por el puebio. Por ello, inserta una especie de traduction ο de glosa explicadva a condnuaciôn de ciertos términos que considéra que pueden presentar dificultades de comprensiôn. E n algunas ocasiones es un vocablo hebreo el que aparece glosado en neojudeoespanol: hômer (madera), nebuâ (profedcia), meraguelim (espiones). Pero en su gran mayoria son los galicismos de nueva factura los que necesitan la traduction ο explication correspondiente, bien a través de un término más coloquial en

" O n ne peut toutefois toujours savoir si un trait déterminé est un archaïsme, un emprunt récent ou le produit de la confluence des deux." Sephiha 1974: 176.

judeoespanol o en turco o en turquismos ya hispanizados, bien con el tecnicism o hebreo correspondiente. C o m o ejemplos: i) neojudeoespanol > judeoespanol (las más abundantes) asimilaciôn (asemeanza), hacer alušián (ser romez), conservar (guardar), delivrado (escapado), divonçar (quitar), edificio (casa), ensenarles (embezarles), eternel (de siempre), inutil (en baldes), medicamentos (curas), pretexto (achaque), provis'oria (por horas), relativamente (confrontando), utilidad (provecho), etc. ii) neojudeoespanol > turco esterìl (yabán),^»«/ (yo\iy),frecuentar (yorusear), res'istir (dayanear), etc. iii) neojudeoespanol > hebreo consorte (bat zug), modestia ('anavut), naturel (tibf), population (hamôn ha'am), etc. /

Conclusion C o m o vemos por los ejemplos escogidos, los términos utilizados cubren prácdcamente todas las clases de palabras (sustantivos, adjedvos, verbos, adverbios, etc.) y glosan no solo conceptos religiosos o referentes cultos, sino actividades o situaciones corrientes. Podemos decir que estas glosas, y en general el método repetitivo-perifrâstico que emplea el autor es uno de sus rasgos de estilo, un método que le permite poner de manifiesto su grado de cultura y de modernidad para adecuarse al m o m e n t o que vive a la vez que continua la idea básica del ML.

Bibliografia Diaz-Mas, P. 1989. "Influencias francesas en la literatura sefardi: estado de la cuestiôn."

En Imâgenes de Francia en las letras hispánicas. Ed. F. Lafarga. Barcelona: PPU, 143-53. Hassán, I. M. 1978. "Transcription normalizada de textos judeoespanoles." Estudios sefar-

dies 1, 147-50. , 1982. "Vision panorâmica de la literatura sefardi." E n Hispania Judaica II. Ed. J. M. Sola-Solé et al. Barcelona: Puvill, 25-44.

Jerusalmi, I. 1990. From Ottoman Turkish to Ladino. Cincinnati: Ladino Books. Molho, M. 1945. Le Meám-L0e^ encyclopédie populaire du sépharadisme levantin. Salônica: Librairie Molho.

Romero, E. 1992. Ea creation Uteraria en lengua sefardi. Madrid: Mapfre. Sephiha, H. V. 1973. "Le judéo-fragnol." Ethnopsychologie 2 - 3 , 239-49.

, 1974. "Problématique du judéo-espagnol." Bulletin de la Société Linguistique de Paris 59, 59-189.

, 1976. "Le judéo-fragnol, dernier-né du djudezmo." Bulletin de la Société Linguistique de Paris 71, XXXI-XXXVI. Stem, C. 1984. "The Sephardic Theater of Eastern Europe: Literary and Linguistic Pers-

pectives." Romance Philology 37, 4, 474-85.

MARTIRIO,

ÖENAS DE LA

VIDA

U N FOLLETIN DE SAM LÉVY 1 AMELIA BARQUÍN CSIC, Madrid, Spain Ahora hace cien anos se estaba publicando en Salônica una novela por entregas, ütulada Martirio, cenas de la wda, escrita por Semuel Sa'adi Halevi (o Sam Lévy, c o m o firmaba en sus obras tardias). 2 A continuation me propongo presentar esta novela y destacar someramente algunos de sus aspectos sobresalientes, que serán objeto de estudio más detallad o en la edition del texto que estoy preparando. La novela apareciô en el periôdico La Epoca, semanal a la sazôn, en 52 entregas, que se publicaron entre el 3 de sepdembre de 1897 y el 16 de septiembre de 1898 (durante poco más de un afio, por tanto). 3 Cada entrega ocupa generalmente una página compléta del periôdico y a veces hasta dos, de m o d o que el resultado es una novela de mediana extension. Antes de entrar en más detalles, expongamos brevemente el argumento. E n 1880 el joven médico suizo Ferdinando Laport se casa con la encantadora An^élica Bristol, mimada hija de una familia de la alta sociedad financiera de Constandnopla. Tras un largo y feliz viaje de novios por Europa, el matrimonio se instala en Constandnopla, donde Ferdinando se convierte en reconocido médico de enfermedades nerviosas entre las mujeres de las clases altas. El esposo de una paciente a la que ha conseguido curar con sus terapias hipnôdcas le ofrece un puesto c o m o director del servicio sanitario de la linea férrea en construcciôn en Asia Menor. Una vez alH, empieza el protagonista a practicar una serie de experimentos de magnetismo sobre su esposa sin que ésta lo sepa, expertmentos que acaban por arruinar la salud de la mujer. El doctor es además responsable de la muerte de uno de los trabajadores de la obra, al que ha pretendid o curar sin otros medios que el poder de su mente. Agobiado por los remordimientos que siente por esta muerte, Ferdinando Laport emprende un periplo de varios anos por diversos paises de E u r o p a central y oriental, acompanado de su esposa—cuya salud es cada vez más fràgil—y de sus hijas, tras el cual terminan por establecerse en Salônica. E n esta ciudad Ferdinando se encapricha de Elena, la hermosa sirvienta de una de sus pacientes, y la contrata c o m o gobernanta de su casa. El desprecio de La présente comunicaciôn es el resumen de un trabajo mas extenso que se publicarà en la revista Sefarad. Asi le Uamaremos en adelante. Los numéros correspondientes del periôdico se conservan en la Biblioteca de Estudios Sefardies del Departamento de Estudios Hebraicos y Sefardies del CSIC. Faltan en esta colecciôn la pagina donde se encuentra la entrega 36 y el numéro donde se encuentra la entrega 39. Espero poder completar prôximamente la novela mediante copia procedente de otra colecciôn del periôdico.

Ferdinando y los malos tratos coddianos convierten a An^élica en una sombra de si misma. Ferdinando obtiene a fuerza de golpes y amenazas el permiso de su esposa ante el tribunal religioso para casarse en segundas nupcias con Elena, que en realidad ya la ha suplantado en la casa. Sin embargo, una joven costurera que trabaja para los Laport consigue que su padre y un amigo de la familia Bristol ayuden a An^élica. Estos hacen venir al hermano mayor de An^élica a Salônica y entre los très consiguen rescatar a la mujer y desenmascarar a Ferdinando. El malvado es apresado cuando se dispone a huir con sus hijas y su amante y es condenado a varios anos de prisiôn. An^élica regresa a casa de su familia a Constanrinopla. La novela vio la luz en uno de los ôrganos más longevos e importantes de la prensa sefardi y fue escrita por uno de sus protagonistas más activos. La Epoca (1875-1912) "revista polirica, comercial y literaria," de talante liberal, fue fundada por el patriarca y popular coplero Sa'adi Halevi. Paso por varias etapas en las que fue semanal, bisemanal y diario. Sam Lévy (Salônica 1870-Paris 1959), hijo del fundador, pardcipô desde muy joven en las tareas del periôdico hasta convertirse en redactor jefe y se encargô de la direcciôn tras la muerte de su padre en 1903. Asumiô igualmente la direcciôn del periôdico en francés Journal de Salonique (1885-1910), también fundado por Sa'adi Halevi. Sam coloborô en otros periôdicos sefardies e incluso fundô en 1905 en Zemun (poblaciôn cercana a Belgrado) Le Rayon en francés y El Lucero en judeoespanol, que duraron poco dempo. Después de 1912, tras la anexiôn de Salônica a Grecia, se estableciô primero en Lausana y después en Paris, donde publico de 1920 a 1930 el anuario Guide Sam (un directorio de las empresas industriales y comerciales de Oriente Proximo) y fundô Les Cahiers Séfardis, que vieron la luz entre 1947 y 1949. Ardculista apasionado y de àgil pluma, personaje polemista y controverddo, antisionista ferviente, la figura de Sam Lévy está esperando todavia un estudio monogrâfico que lo situe en el lugar que le corresponde dentro de las letras sefardies. Mientras tanto, sus propias memorias (publicadas en 1961-65 en El Tesoro de los Judios Sefardies) condenen datos de gran interés sobre la época de su juventud, en la que escribiô la novela que nos ocupa. 4 En cuanto a las circunstancias de creaciôn y difusiôn de la novela, conviene destacar algunos hechos relevantes. En primer lugar, Martirio dene el interés de ser una novela original. Hay que recordar aqui que la gran mayoria de las novelas sefardies son traducciones o adaptaciones; tal es la opinion de los invesdgadores que mejor conocen el género, aunque aûn queda por determinar el grado de originalidad de muchas obras. Y es además una de las primeras novelas originales de la literatura judeoespafiola. Sabido es que la narradva moderna es uno de los géneros importados tardiamente entre los sefardies; las primeras novelas en judeoespanol se publicaron a partir de los anos sesenta del siglo pasado. Pues bien, de las consideradas 4

Datos dispersos sobre Lévy y sus empresas se encuentran en Nehama (1978: 756), D u m o n t (1992: 213-14, 218) y Romero (1992). Igualmente en diversos aruculos de los mencionados Cahiers se puede entresacar informaciôn sobre él. Sobre La Época pueden verse G a o n (1965: n° 151) y Molho (1967: 103).

c o m o originales por Romero (1992: 239-244), solo très son anteriores a la de Sam Lévy (publicadas en los anos 1865, 1877 y 1897 respectivamente, esta uldma en segunda edition). La gran mayoria son, efecdvamente, posteriores a 1900. Es de esperar que, con el dempo y ulteriores investigaciones, se aiiadan nuevos dtulos al conjunto de las novelas originales reconocidas hoy como taies y se adelanten fechas con ello, pero seguramente no será necesario recdficar nuestra afirmaciôn de que la novela que nos ocupa es una de las primeras novelas originales en judeoespanol. E n segundo lugar, no nos consta que esta obra fuera publicada con posterioridad como volumen independiente, cosa que si ocurriô con muchos otros follednes sefardies. Esto explicaria que no aparezca en ninguna de las modernas bibliografias de obras en judeoespanol. T a m p o c o se encuentra en fuentes castizas como los catâlogos de la libreria Šáyich de Jerusalén (fundada a fines de siglo pasado y activa al menos hasta 1922), donde se recogen varios centenares de obras sefardies, entre ellas muchas novelas; ni en los anuncios insertos en las novelas ο en los periôdicos que hemos consultado hasta el m o m e n t o en los que se hacia propaganda de otras publicaciones. La novela tampoco aparece mencionada en estudios sobre la literatura sefardi. Creemos, por todo ello, muy probable que no fuera reeditada de m o d o independiente y se encuentre únicamente en las páginas del periôdico. Se trata por otra parte, conviene destacarlo, de una obra no documentada por la critica moderna. Volvamos ahora a la cuesdôn de la originalidad. Para considerar una novela sefardi como original no basta con que aparezca bajo el nombre de un autor sefardi. Muchos ejemplos demuestran que los publicistas no se sentian afectados por las exigencias modernas en materia de autoria. 5 Asi, es frecuente la omisiôn de datos en la publication de folletines (a menudo no se da más que el titulo); en la publication de novelas en formato libro puede aparecer sin más, por ejemplo, el nombre de quien ha traducido ο adaptado la obra sin que se aluda al autor de la fuente ni a la fuente misma. Es necesario, por tanto, determinar el carácter de original ο no de muchas novelas una por una. Martim lleva al final de cada una de sus entregas el nombre de Samuel Sa'adi Halevi e incluso su firma con forma manuscrita cuando el espacio lo permite. Bajo el titulo se lee siempre "romanzo escrito para La Epoca." Esta information por si sola no résulta déterminante. Pero hay otros testimonios en el periôdico que son más significativos, de entre los cuales hemos seleccionado varios. Seis numéros antes de la publication de la novela, Sam Lévy escribe un articulo anunciândola con toda la ilusiôn, pretensiones y temores de un autor novel en lo que no es sino un intento de atraerse la simpatia del lector. El escrito se titula "Cenas de la vida (romanzo nuevo)" y está firmado en Salônica y julio. (...) muchos se meten a escribir, y si todos n o reušen ['denen éxitoj, ellos tapan el camino a los verdaderos, a aqueos que recibieron este oficio c o m o una dádiva de los cielos y que penan, sufren, pelean contra la hambre y lo más de 5

Varios estudios sobre la novela han mostrado los problemas que entrana la cuesdôn (véanse Romero 1993: 180-183 y Barquin 1997: 81-116).

veces son vencidos y desparecen en dejando los parientes en la más profunda mišeria. De estos tristes enjemplos se vieron cada dia en los países los más civiliz ados. Aqui, en Oriente, la vida de escribidor no es tan tragosa, siendo no hubo ainda dinguno que se ocupe de este oficio. N o quero decir que no puede haber muchos mancebos que denen vocaciôn de escribir.... Uno de esos mancebos, por no yir a buscarlo lejos, es el humilde autor de la novela Cenas de la vida, que presentaremos cercamente el pueblo. Desde einco anos la cariera de escribir se presentô al afirmado abajo como el bodre de una mar imensa (...). Me atrevo, sin saber nadar, sin saber navegar, a meter en la agua una barca muy liviana, una cašca de muez , y abandonarla al capricho del viento.... El obraje fue escrito en un espacio de dempo bien corto. N o es por escusar las faltidas que él puede contener que decimos esto. El autor de Cenas delà vida no se hace ninguna ilusiôn ni tiene grandes pretansiones sobre la valor de su primera obra.... Los encorajamientos del pueblo mos van a mostrar se cale yir adelantre ο si cale abandonar por siempre la vida de escribidor por no auntar una víctima de más a un oficio que ya hizo tantas otras. (ano 22, n° 1096,1-2: 9-7—1897). Se trata, pues, de su p r i m e r a novela, a u n q u e s e g u r a m e n t e habia ya t r a d u c i d o ο p a r d e i p a d o en la t r a d u c t i o n de otras p a r a La Epoca. Lévy p r é s e n t a su o b r a c o n la conciencia d e ser u n o de los p i o n e r o s e n u n g é n e r o q u e n o riene tradiciôn en Oriente. M e s y m e d i o d e s p u é s d e este ardeulo, e x a c t a m e n t e en el n u m é r o a n t e r i o r al de la p u b l i c a t i o n de la p r i m e r a entrega d e la novela, l e e m o s o t r o i n t e n t o d e c o n graciarse c o n el lector p o r p a r t e de Lévy en el q u e pide indulgencia p a r a los d e f e c t o s d e la o b r a y ruega a los lectores " d e dinar agradecer el flaco h o m a g e d e esta p r i m a y m o d e s t a n o v e l a " ( a n o 23, n° 1103, 7: 2 7 - 8 - 1 8 9 7 ) . E l a u t o r firma este a r d e u l o en Salônica y m a r z o d e 1897 (a pesar d e q u e se p u b l i c o en agosto). Salvo e r r o r del p e r i ô d i c o en la fecha de la firma, ésta indica s e g u r a m e n t e q u e la novela estaba t e r m i n a d a p a r a e n t o n c e s . P o r o t r a parte, la intriga t r a n s c u r r e e n t r e abril d e 1880 y d i c i e m b r e d e 1896. Si el a u t o r n o introd u j o c a m b i o s en el tiempo de la o b r a en el m o m e n t o d e publicarla, c a b e s u p o n e r q u e a c a b ô d e escribirla e n t r e d i c i e m b r e d e 1896 y m a r z o d e 1897. Si t o d a esta retôrica d e escritor n o v e l deja p o c a s d u d a s acerca d e la autorfa d e Lévy, todavia e n el n u m é r o q u e d e b e c o n t e n e r la entrega n° 36 ( r e c o r d e m o s q u e es u n a d e las q u e n o s faltaba) e n c o n t r a m o s u n t e s t i m o n i o m á s . Se trata d e la p r o t e s t a d e Lévy p o r el ataque q u e h a s u f r i d o la integridad d e su o b r a : A los lectores: La Época me hizo el honor de publicar las Cenas de la vida, que fueron escritas a su inteciôn. En la tercia partida del romanzo, la redaction de La Época, sin darme aviso, creô utile de embarar ["borrar"] muchas pá^inas del capitulo sobre "Lo pasado de una nina." N o n puedo dear pasar esta ocasiôn sin declarar que estas pá^inas fueron embaradas sin mi veluntad. Atorgo que el capitulo en cuestiôn contenia pasajes que los lectores de Oriente non están usados a meldar ["leer"]. Ma las Cenas de la vida es un romanzo realista, acontecido, y la prima condiciôn de un romanzo realista es de decir la verdad, mismo si esta verdad non conviene a

algunos meldadores o meldadoras. Es por esto que jugo menesteroso de protestar.... (ano 23, n° 1140, 5: 27-5-1898) <>

Nôtese que, para defenderse, Lévy introduce un elemento nuevo sobre el carácter de la novela, y es que se trata de "un romanzo realista, acontecido." La necesidad del autor de aducir argumentos para defender su trabajo y lo tardio de la indication nos inducen a dudar de su veracidad. Otros indicios, ahora internos de la obra, que apuntan a que ésta saliô de la pluma de Sam Lévy son ciertos episodios que podemos relacionar con aspectos de su biografia. El ejemplo más significadvo es, creemos, el que exponemos a continuation. Una parte de la novela transcurre en un lugar indeterminado de Asia Menor, donde Ferdinando ha sido contratado como director del servicio sanitario de la linea férrea en construction. Las explicaciones y descripciones de diversos aspecto relativos a los trabajos, taies c o m o el proceso de constitution en Francia de una sociedad anônima para optar a la concesiôn de las obras, la contrataciôn del personal y sus dificultades, el funcionamiento del servicio sanitario, determinados aspectos de la vida de los trabajadores durante la construcciôn de la linea, etc. demuestran el profundo conocimiento en esta materia que tenia el autor. Efectivamente, Sam Lévy estuvo empleado durante seis anos, de 1890 a 1896, en el "bureau de contrôle des Chemins de fer Orientaux, inspection de Salonique-Zibeftché" como inspector de contabilidad. 7 Una vez que hemos presentado la novela y mostrado brevemente su interés en varios aspectos externos relativos a su creation y difusiôn, conviene mencionar, aunque no podamos extendernos aqui en ellos, otros aspectos tanto externos como internos a los que un estudio más detallado deberá prestar también atenciôn. Está, por un lado, la cuesdôn de la censura. La Epoca se refiere sin más al "averticimiento de la sansur," sin indicar qué instantia ha censurado la novela de Lévy (quizá porque resultaba claro entonces): pudo tratarse tanto de la censura gubernamental como de la propia de las autoridades rabinicas. Habrá que indagar en los motivos y en la naturaleza de lo expurgado y mostrar la probable relaciôn entre la actuaciôn de la censura y el contenido sexual de algunos episodios (recordemos que en la segunda mitad de la obra la acciôn está motivada por los apetitos carnales de Ferdinando y su inclination por la criada, inclination que es eminentemente sexual). Convendrà, además, relacionar estos episodios con los acentos naturalistas que se dejan apreciar en la obra y que son particularmente dignos de consideration, ya que de momento se desconocen otras novêlas sefardies que muestren influencias claras de las corrientes realista y naturalista. Merece comentario asimismo la ausencia total de los judios y de lo judio en la novela, que puede tener su explication en el contenido potencialmente "escandaloso" de la obra para algunos sectores del publico.

6

7

La redacciôn responde en una nota en la misma pagina lo siguiente: Muestro corespondiente se yera en atribuendo a la redacciôn de La Epoca el embaramiento de algunos pasajes de este capitulo. N o s apresuramos de hacerle saber que, malgrado que estos pasajes se raportan a fatos verdaderos y seguros, ellos non pudieron ser reproduicidos sobre ['debido a'] el avertecimiento de la sansur. Véase Lévy 1962: 65 y 1963: 56-57.

T o d o ello sin dejar de lado el examen de aspectos tan heterogéneos c o m o la figura del narrador, la lengua de la obra, los puntos en comûn de ésta con la novela turca contemporânea, y otras cuesdones cuya simple m e n t i o n séria demasiado extensa. E n fin, baste lo dicho para resumir el interés que présenta esta novela. N o s hallamos—a pesar de sus deficiencias, en las que no me puedo detener—ante una obra de envergadura y digna de consideration, que como una de las primeras originales en judeoespanol se muestra como laboratorio de experimentation de las novedades prestadas de la literatura occidental. Quisiera terminar recàlcando que esta novela, sin documentar hasta ahora por la crítica moderna y de la que no conocemos edition independiente, es una buena muestra de lo que puede deparar el despojo de la prensa sefardi que está por hacer.

Bibliografia citada Barquin, A. 1997. Ediciôn y estudio de doce novelas aljamiadas sefardies de principios del siglo XX. Bilbao: Universidad del Pais Vasco. D u m o n t , P. 1992.'Li français d'abord" en Salonique, 1850-1928. Dir. G. Veinstein, Paris: Autrement. de la libreria Šáyilh de libres en judeoespanol y en hebreo. 0herez1í, Š. Y. 1913—1914. Catâlogo Jerusalén: Šáyich. , 1922. Catâlogo de la libreria Šáyilh de libres enfudeoespaiiol. Jerusalén: Šáyich. Gaon, M. D. 1965. A Bibliography of the Judeo-Spanish (Ladino) Press (Hebr.). Jerusalén: Instituto Ben-Zvi. La Época, ano 22, n° 1096 (9-7-1897) a ano 23, n° 1156 (16-9-1898). Lévy, S. 1961. "Mes mémoires." Tesoro de los judios sefardies 4, V-XXV1; 1962. Tesoro... 5, XLIV-LXV; 1963. Tesoro... 6, U I - L X X I ; 1964. Tesoro... 7, LXIX-LXXXV; 1965. Tesoro... 8, XLV-LXII; 1966. Tesoro... 9, LXVIII-LXXIV. Molho M. 1967. "Ha'itonut haespanolit beSaloniki." E n Salonique, Ville-Mère en Israël, Jerusalén-Tel Aviv, 103-108. Nehama, J. 1878. Histoire des Israélites de Salonique.

vols. 6 - 7 . Salônica.

Romero, E. 1992. La creaciôn literaria en lengua sefardi. Madrid: Mapfre. , 1993. "Nuevos aspectos de la narrativa judeoespanola." En Proyecciôn histôrica Vol. III, Valladolid: Junta de Casdlla y Leôn, 177-194. Espana en sus très culturas.

de

" L E DIXO TOMADLO POR

QUIDUXÏN"

LA VALIDEZ DE ESTE FENÔMENO SEGÚN SE REFLEJA EN ALGUNA DE LAS RESPONSA SEFARDIES DEL SIGLO XVI ANNETTE BENAIM University of London, UK

"Torna esta mansana que vos lo d o p o r quiduxin" E n Salônica en el siglo XVI Isaac Navarro le ofrece una manzana a Palomba, ella la acepta sin decir nada. Es esto un contrato matrimonial vâlido y legal? (Medina 12). E n la primera pregunta de las Responsa de rabi Samuel de Medina de Salônica tenemos el caso de un h o m b r e que ofrece "una naranjji" c o m o simbolo de los esponsales. La tercera pregunta nos habla de très limones que se le entregan a una muchacha redcente. Y en las responsa del Maharasaj 134, el rabi Salomon hijo de A b r a h a m Hakohén (1535-1602), también de Salônica, se présenta el siguiente caso: 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20.

que me fiziesen un plazer que queria que viniesen con mi que queria dar quiduxin a una mosa y tome un anillo y se lo mostré y lo fue a pesar y pesaba un quintal y siete jacardises y los llebi a los edim al cortijo y ellos quedaron abaxo los dos edim y uno fue con él ariba bino a la puerta y me abriô la mosa y dixe yo a los edim estás ai abaxo respondieron si mira que le do quiduxin estas son palabras meReuvén.

Aqui el lenguaje nos demuestra dos conceptos imprescindibles en los quiduxin, las capitulaciones matrimoniales segûn la ley judia: 1) que el peso y el valor del objeto simbôlico son importantes; 2) la necesidad de la presencia de dos testigos durante la entrega de la prenda de los quiduxin.

Puntos generates sobre los

Quiduxin

Hay que anotar que la presencia de dos testigos vâlidos es esencial en la ley criminai y ritual. Un casamiento solo puede ser vâlido si hay al m e n o s dos testigos présentes. Por ejemplo, Navarro en el primer caso (Medina 12) le da una manzana a Palomba durante un almuerzo d o n d e hay otra gente que puede servir c o m o testigo. Ella la acepta sin decir palabra: esto solo puede ya convertirla en mujer casada. Segûn Mordejay Friman en el SéderQuiduxin Venisuin (163-180), los rabinos de Salônica decidieron instituir la n o r m a de que hacia falta un minim o de diez h o m b r e s présentes en los quiduxin, y que el casamiento fuera efectuado p o r un sabio, un rabino. E s t o era un m o d o de reforzar la ley biblica para elevar el nivel de santidad, y de camino proteger a las jôvenes e inocentes mujeres que n o se dieran cuenta de que el simple h e c h o de aceptar una naranja, un limon, una manzana o hasta un ramo de hojas la vincularia en matrimonio.

Se estableciô otra ley rabinica local que hacia constar que la mujer deberia tener présentes a sus familiares a la hora de los quiduxin. Esto tenia también la funciôn de proteger a las mujeres de llegar a ser prisioneras de la ley si querian divorciarse y quedar libres para volver a casarse. Al insistir en la presencia de un rabino y de la familia de la mujer, el contrato matrimonial se hace reconocer por todos y se convierte en responsabilidad publica, de la comunidad.

Las arras de los quiduxín Las arras de los quiduxin debe tener un valor minimo de una perutd, que es una moneda de cobre équivalente a la unidad minima de valor monetario. E n la Misná (Quid 2:1) se utiliza hasta un dâtil como objeto simbôlico, es siempre que el dâtil tenga el valor minimo que se esdpula. La prenda de los quiduxin representa el m o d o de adquisiciôn. El casamiento, segûn la ley judia, se lleva a cabo a través de la ley de contratos y la ley ritual. La mujer es adquirida por su marido de très maneras: con dinero, con documento, con cohabitation. E n cambio, ella solo puede adquirirse a si misma a través del divorcio ο de la muerte de su marido {Quid 1:1). La adquisiciôn en la ley judia se efectúa con dinero y con un contrato por escrito. Para validar un casamiento es imprescindible que el hombre declare sus intenciones a su apalabrada ο desposada de manera que ella pueda entenderlas. La Biblia describe los quiduxin en términos de adquisiciôn, pues la realization se compara con la adquisiciôn de bienes monetarios. Esta analogia pertenece solo al m o d o en que se realizan los quiduxin, la esencia de los quiduxin y la del casamiento no se equipara a la adquisiciôn material. Según la ley biblica, los quiduxin son la primera parte del casamiento. La parte siguiente, los nisuin, tiene lugar cuando la novia entra en la casa de su marido ο debajo de la hupâ (el palio nupcial). El proceso del casamiento ya esta completo. Hoy dia los quiduxin y los nisuin se llevan a cabo conjuntamente en una misma ceremonia. Antano se necesitaba un divorcio para romper el contrato una vez que se hacian los quiduxin. El rabino con autoridad legal tenia que considerar todos estos factores antes de tomar decisiones sobre la validez de los quiduxin. Es importante que el hombre sea el dueno de la prenda de los quiduxin, y nunca podria ofrecer un objeto que perteneciera a otro. E n las responsa del rabino Isaac Adarbi tenemos a Samuel Vida Caro, quien: 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13.

le preguntô a su ermano ribi Yehudá hanizkar [el mencionado] si tenia algùn dinero para gastar, y respondiô ribi Xemuel hanizkar, aqui tengo medio gros, y sacôlo, y llamô a su esposa que le estaba aparejàndolos seudat haberit y dixole, Rahel toma este gros por quiduxin para d, y ella lo tomô.

Esta es la description de uno de los testigos. La moneda no estaba destinada para los quiduxin. E n realidad, de la respuesta rabinica aprendemos que Xemuel le habia pedido a su hermano dinero para dar a los pobres. La frase "dinero para gastar" quiere decir segûn Adarbi, "dinero para dar a los pobres." Luego decide utilizar medio gros de ese dinero para sus quiduxin. Adarbi llega a la conclusion de que el hecho de que Samuel Caro admita haber pedido a su hermano dinero

para gastar, del cual apartô medio gros para quiduxin, quiere decir que su intenciôn era ser dueno del dinero. Este se trans firiô de su hermano a él, y luego él tomô la decision de usar una parte para quiduxin. Ya que no hubiéramos conocido toda esta information sin su confesiôn, el rabino se fia de la otra parte de la confesiôn. Adarbi se fia de la integridad de Samuel porque hace una admisiôn compléta sobre la fuente exacta del dinero. A pesar de que él no era dueno de ese dinero al principio, llega a serlo después de adquirirlo. T o d o esto sucediô el dia de la circuncisiôn de su sobrino. Este caso en las responsa de Adarbi condene también otro concepto significativo en los quiduxin. Estos quiduxin se llevaron a cabo sin la presencia de los familiares de Rahel. En estos casos se habria s o m e d d o a los testigos a un riguroso interrogatorio (din merumé) ; asi se asegura la corte de que se cumplen los demás requisitos de los quiduxin. Adarbi no hace esto. Por qué? E n estos procesos legales vemos muchos ejemplos donde el legislador utiliza su experiencia relativa al contexto y su sentido comûn, junto a su profunda comprensiôn de la ley biblica y rabinica. La cuesdôn aqui es que Rahel no tenia familiares présentes al recibir la media moneda, es verdad. Pero segûn Adarbi puede verse claramente de la siguiente ilustraciôn que Rahel era ya su prometida. Tenia bastante confianza con ella. O t r o tesdgo cuenta: 34. vide a R Samuel Vida Caro 35.yairnero, que sacô un gros de veinte àspros de la faldriquera y 36. dixo a su esposa la cual estava mondando espinacas, 37. Rahel toma este gros por quiduxin para mi y ella lo 38. tomô, y se riô y lo metiô en la faldriquera que andava 39. vestida de Colorado...

Es evidente que las frases "estava m o n d a n d o espinacas," "y se riô," etc., muestran que habia un grado de familiaridad, confianza e intimidad social (por el hecho de que ella participara c o m o una más de la familia en la preparation de comidas para la circuncisiôn de su futuro sobrino). Ella entonces comprende el significado del compromiso matrimonial. Asi pues, segûn Adarbi, el casamiento es vâlido y Rahel necesita un divorcio para volver a casarse. T o d o esto prueba que el lenguaje y la ley están íntimamente interrelacionados en estos textos rabinicos del siglo XVI. El orden en que se entrega la prenda de los quiduxin y se pronuncia las palabras "tomadlo por quiduxin" es significativo en la cuestiôn de la validez del matrimonio. E n las responsa del rabino Samuel de Medina (76), Reubén le da un anillo a Lea: 1. bona dona toma este anillo que vos lo do por quiduxin.

Ella lo acepta. Segûn las normas de ley, Reubén debia haber declarado su intenciôn antes de entregar el anillo. A pesar de que no lo hace, el rabino Samuel de Medina no déclara nulo el casamiento. El lo defiende con un argumento lingûistico. El hecho de que Reubén diga "por quiduxin" y no "para quiduxin" deja en claro su intention de casarse con ella. La frase "tomadlo para quiduxin" se utiliza en el caso de que Reubén representa otra persona. C o m o Reubén utiliza las pa-

labras "por quiduxin," eso es prueba de que su intenciôn es séria y enfocada al matrimonio. Aunque en judeo-espanol el " p o r " y el "para" no implican distinciôn, es interesante que Medina se fije en ello. Esto puede interpretarse de dos maneras: 1) Quizás la gente sabia que la disdnciôn era necesaria en cuestiones legales, es decir, que aunque intercambiasen el " p o r " y el "para" al hablar, en el m o m e n t o del casamiento se sabia que la frase "por quiduxin" era lo propio. 2) Quizás Medina aplica al judeo-espanol la disdnciôn de sentido del hebreo. De todos modos, ella acepta el aniUo; asi pues, por ley está casada y necesita un divorcio para desvincularse y quedar libre de Reubén. De ésta y de otras responsa puede verse que el m o m e n t o en que se pronuncian los quiduxin es importante; pero ello solo no dene fuerza suficiente para hacer nulo un matrimonio. E n la respuesta numéro 34 de Medina Haim Gateno le ofrece un dedal de plata a Rica: 2. venatán Iah hadedal hanizk' 3. después que lo tomo le dixo toma este dedal por quiduxin y ella 4. dixo y yo que lo resibo.

Aqui Medina sigue la norma de rabi Moisés Almosnino de Salônica. La norma esdpula que el hecho solo de que la idenddad de los individuos no esté claro no es razôn para anular un casamiento. Medina dice que aqui tenemos un caso en que se entrega el dedal antes de decir las palabras de quiduxin. E n este caso Haim Gateno ha fallecido y Rica quiere liberarse del precepto del levirato. D e acuerdo con la ley biblica, este mandamiento se invoca cuando una viuda sin hijos tiene que casarse con un hermano de su fallecido esposo para procrear un hijo que herede. Los rabinos trataban siempre de liberar a las mujeres y a los cunados de este vinculo. E n este caso los testigos se contradicen también en los detalles de la ropa que llevaba Rica. Aunque en cuestiones de quiduxin, asi c o m o en la ley monetaria, el desacuerdo entre los testigos no tiene tanta importancia, el rabino Medina se basa en él para liberar a Rica del levirato. Rica puede volver a casarse con el hombre que desee. Este es un ejemplo del razonamiento legal de Medina, quien siempre ponia en practica su sentido comûn en sus respuestas. Esto lo describe Morris Goodblatt en 1952 con las siguientes palabras: at times when the strict interpretation of the letter of the law would lead to a decision contrary to c o m m o n sense he [Medina] would by a process of reinterpretation stress the spirit rather than the letter.

Formular los quiduxin Las palabras "para mi" en el proceso de los quiduxin son imprescindibles. "Tomadlo por quiduxin para mi " expresa con claridad la intenciôn del novio, y la novia lo endende asi. Con todo, la ausencia de estas palabras no es suficiente para anular un matrimonio. Aqui vemos en el texto 8 de Medina (Even Ηαε^βή : 9. dixo c o m o le dixo Yosi hanyz' leDina hanyz', quies estos 10. ducados por quiduxin para una cadena? y dixo la mosa pon uno en el

11. suelo, y lo puzo y lo tomô la mosa y ella que se iva dixo R Yosef 12. a los que alli estavan sedme edim que lo tomô por quiduxin.

El matrimonio de Diná es nulo por varias razones. El novio no dijo "para mi," ni tampoco lo dio a entender. Es decir que "para mi" puede también estar implicito y cuenta como vâlido. Es aqui donde el lenguaje también asume un papel importante; el leer entre lineas y recoger el senddo de las palabras del testimonio solo puede efectuarse a través de un p r o f u n d o conocimiento del idioma, en este caso el judeo-espanol. Además, Diná no acepta todos los ducados, sino solo algunos. Vemos también que no toma las arras de los quiduxin directamente de la mano del novio, sino que le pide que ponga un ducado en el suelo y luego ella lo recoge. De aqui aprendemos que el objeto dene que ser aceptado directamente del hombre por la mujer. Sin embargo, en el caso del rabino Salomon hijo de Abraham Hakohén (numéro 134), la omisiôn del "para mi" supone diferencia en el juicio del rabino. 62. 63. 64. 65. 66. 67. 68 69. 70.

...fuimos todos très juntos. quedamos mosotros abaxo arimados a una paredica fronte del b[a]randad0.. ariba el dito Hayim dixo, estás abaxo vosotros? y dixo mira que do un anillo lo dio en mano de una mosa, y dixo mira que do quiduxin

El testimonio es largo, condene más de 90 lineas de judeo-espanol de varios tesdgos contando los quiduxin desde diferentes puntos de vista en un rico lenguaje entremezclado con palabras hebreas. Hakohén déclara nulo este matrimonio a causa de la omisiôn del "para mi." Además, los testigos no parecen tener una imagen clara de la novia, a la que se refieren c o m o "una mosa." Asi pues, si ella niega haber aceptado el anillo, la autoridad rabinica la cree. Luego, cuando la corte pregunta al testigo si Haim dijo la formula de los quiduxin antes ο después de entregar las arras de los quiduxin, el testigo contesta: 73. tenia el 74. a n ‫ ש‬o en la mano la mosa, y dixo mira que do quiduxin

Está claro que al recibir el anillo aûn desconocia el propôsito. Hakohén sigue la norma rabinica de Maimônides, quien daba mucha importancia al orden en que se suceden la parte verbal y gestual de los quiduxin. Hay un caso en particular que quiero sacar a relucir, y es uno que fue enviado a Adarbi y también al rabino Yosef Caro, nacido en 1488 aqui en Toledo: 9. c o m o un dia en el barandado vido cômo estava rebi Yisrael 10. asentado con un pandero en su mano y vino Estrella y le demandô el 11. pandero y diôselo por quiduxin, y no se acuerda de si le dixo "tomadlo por

quiduxin," ο "vos 12. lo do por quiduxin," mas que se acuerda sierto que non le dixo "para mi."

Son vâlidos estos quiduxin o no? Segûn Yosef Caro la omisiôn del "para m i " es ya suficiente par anular este casamiento. Luego está la cuesdôn del pandero. El pandero es un objeto de mujer, al menos las mujeres suelen poseerlos. E n realidad, Estrella confirma que el pandero pertenece a Sara, y ya sabemos que el objeto de quiduxin dene que ser propiedad del novio. Además, segûn el rabino Caro, el t o n o de estas lineas citadas es tal vez distendido y en broma. El matrim o n i o es nulo: Estrella puede casarse de nuevo sin tener que divorciarse antes. La ûltima de las responsa a las que voy a referirme es una que le mandaron a Adarbi en 1553. El hecho es que Sete, la supuesta novia, n o está présente cuand o se escribe el testimonio. Hay una norma que esdpula que el testimonio solo puede ser aceptado en presencia de ambas partes. Lo que sucede aqui es que très dias después de que el tesdmonio fuera escrito, Sete acepta quiduxin de otro hombre. Pues si su matrim o n i o no está anulado, c o m o puede ella volver a casarse? E n realidad, de todos los ejemplos citados el caso de Sete es u n o en el que n o cabe la m e n o r duda de la validez de los quiduxin. 10. y estonses quedôse rebi Yomtob hanizcar a la mujer de rebi Abraham hanizcar 11. senora, llamalda acá, y que llamô la mujer de rebi Abraham hanizcar, Sete 12. sal acá, also Sete un paramento que estava delante la 13. puerta, y que saliô Sete hanizc' enpar de su madré, y que rebi Yomtob hanizc' 14. le dise leSete hanizc', queres resibir quiduxin dime, y que Sete hanizc' mirô 15. a la madré en la cara y luego dixo Sete, si

Luego Y o m Τ ο ν pronuncia claramente las palabras todas de los quiduxin y le da una m o n e d a veneciana que ella acepta delante de testigos. T o d o está de acuerdo con las leyes de los quiduxirr. las arras, la situaciôn y unas senales claras de amistad entre la madré de Sete y el novio. Asi pues, Adarbi n o déclara nulo el primer matrimonio de Sete, y su segundo matrimonio n o cuenta.

Conclusiôn E n conclusion, las responsa elegidas para esta comunicaciôn son las que contienen testimonios en judeo-espanol escritas en letras hebreas. Mi investigacion inicial trata de buscar taies textos, descifrar el lenguaje y luego interpretar y ofrecer mis comentarios. E s evidente que la comprension del judeo-espanol es necesaria para entender totalmente estos casos de quiduxin. El lenguaje en estos testimonios sirve para clarificar las arras de los quiduxin, el propietario del objeto y la intention del novio en relaciôn al objeto. A través del lenguaje puede verse el grado de amistad y conocimiento de la pareja. Podemos averiguar si la mujer sabia exactamente el significado de los quiduxin. Palabras c o m o " p o r " o "para," dichas con o sin intention de matrimonio adquieren un significado legal. El orden en que se suceden el pronunciar la formula y el entregar las arras de los quiduxin tiene importancia legal. Asi pues, " t o m a d l o p o r quiduxin para mi de acuerdo con la ley de Moisés e Israel," debe

decirse s i e m p r e antes de q u e la m u j e r a c e p t e el o b j e t o q u e la vincule e n matrim o n i o para la eternidad. 1

Obras citadas Adarbi, Isaac ben Samuel 1581. Dibré ribot. Colecciôn de Responsa. Salônica. Caro, Yosef ben Efráyim 1598. Seelot utsubot (Dîné Quiduxin). Colecciôn de Responsa. Salônica. (Mantua 1730). Friman, A. H. 1964. Seder Quiduxin Venisuin. Jerusalén: Mossad Harav Kook. Goodblatt, M. 1952. Jewish Life in Turkey in the XVIth Century. New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America. Hakohén, Salomon ben Abraham 1592. Seelot utsubot, helek bet. Colecciôn de Responsa. Venecia. Medina, Samuel de 1594. Seelot utsubot Maharasdam. Colecciôn de Responsa. Salônica.

Quiero dar las gracias al Profesor Iacob M. Hassan por sus recomendaciones y consejos, y por la revision de este trabajo.

A S P E C T O S LINGÜfSTICOS DEL LIBRO DE DAVID M . ATÍAS LA GÜERTA DE ORO (LIORNA, 1778) ÁNGEL BERENGUER AMADOR Universidad de Haifa, Israel

E n esta comunicaciôn me p r o p o n g o analizar algunos rasgos lingüisticos que he encontrado en una primera aproximaciôn al libro La güerta de oro. E n estos aspectos p o d r e m o s encontrar también algunos de los rasgos que caracterizan la lengua sefardi, y particularmente la de la edad de oro de su literatura. Antes de comenzar el anâlisis lingüistico voy a hacer una breve presentation de esta obra del escritor sefardi David M. Adas, 1 que es el libro de tema p r o f a n o más antiguo que conservamos en judeoespanol. El hecho de que la temática de este libro sea de carácter p r o f a n o lo destaca literaria y lingüisticamente del resto de la p r o d u c t i o n sefardi del siglo XVIII. Desde el p u n t o de vista literario, este libro no se puede clasificar dentro de ninguno de los géneros a los que pertenecen otras obras de su siglo, sino que es un precedente, dentro de la literatura sefardi, de otros libros de entretenimiento con contenido miscelâneo publicados hacia el primer tercio del siglo XX. Desde el p u n t o de vista lingüistico, nos encontramos con un texto de libre creaciôn en judeoespanol y que no está influido—ο lo está en mucha m e n o r medida que el resto de la literatura sefardi de su é p o c a — p o r originales hebreos, puesto que ni los traduce ni los tiene c o m o fuente, por lo que présenta un registro de lengua singular que hace muy interesante su estudio. La obra está editada en la aljamia hebraica, c o m o la amplia mayoria de la p r o d u c t i o n literaria sefardi. A lo largo de la comunicaciôn abordaré varios aspectos que caracterizan la lengua de este texto, principalmente algunos rasgos caracterizadores del sistema verbal, c o m o son varios de los usos del futuro en lugar de los présentes tanto de subjuntivo c o m o de indicativo. Pero antes de ello vamos a hacer referencia a otros fenômenos que merecen ser resenados: 2 E n primer lugar, este texto présenta palabras hebreas que no siguen la ortografia hebrea, sino una ortografia fonémica, en la que cada fonema está representado por una letra ο conjunto de letras, a diferencia de la ortografia hebrea, en la que la mayoria de los fonemas vocâlicos no aparecen representados más

Para su caracterizaciôn literaria me he basado en el libro: Romero, E. 1992. La creaciôn literaria en lengua sefardi. Madrid: Mapfre, 209-212. Remito a él para más informaciôn. Al ser esta comunicaciôn una cala de la tesis doctoral que me encuentro realizando—dirigida por los doctores Iacob M. Hassán y Eugenio Bustos Gisbert—no incluyo en ella la bibliografia relacionada con los diversos fenômenos aqui comentados, la cual se consignarà en la etapa final de la tesis.

que p o r signos diacridcos. 3 Quizás lo veamos más claro con un ejemplo: la palabra hebrea batlanut4 (2b, 'ociosidad"), se escribe en hebreo sin letra de apoyo para ninguna de las dos ocasiones en que aparece el f o n e m a / a / . Pues bien, en La giierta de oro dicha palabra aparece con un álef para cada una de las realizacionés de dicho fonema / a / . Además, la ultima consonante de dicha palabra en hebreo es tav, y en nuestro texto aparece con tel, que es la forma habituai de representar el sonido dental oclusivo sordo [t] en el sistema ortogrâfico sefardi, puesto que las letras hebreas kaf, 'áyin y la mencionada tav se reservan a palabras de origen hebreo. Otras palabras que aparecen con esta grafia son %anay (2b, "putanero") yyovel (12a, "jubileo"). Este f e n ô m e n o es p o c o frecuente en textos anteriores a la segunda mitad del siglo XIX. D e b i d o a que en el libro hay muy escasos testimonios de esta forma de escribir palabras hebreas n o p o d e m o s senalar a qué obedece su apariciôn, pero no parece i n f u n d a d o sostener que solo se produce en palabras que ya están integradas en el sistema lingûisdco sefardi. Un segundo aspecto que vamos a mencionar, y en el que nuestra obra también se adelanta a otros textos sefardies, es la apariciôn de la escritura correspondiente a bente (2a y hasta un total de once casos) junto a gente, (2b y o c h o casos más en la introduction, forma general en el resto de la obra), es decir, la susrituciôn ocasional de la letra guïmel con rafé, representation escrita del sonido prepalatal africado sonoro [y], p o r la letra hebrea jet, que representa el sonido velar—o faringeo—fricadvo sordo. 5 Los primeros casos de este f e n ô m e n o habian sido advertidos ya en obras impresas en Italia en la primera mitad del siglo XIX y se deben a impresores italianos conocedores del espanol peninsular, en el que se habia producido esta evolution, o a impresores sefardies norteafricanos, que introducen el sonido que conocen y utilizan. E n nuestro texto este fenômen o n o es generalizado y se reduce a los ejemplos que h e m o s citado, que aparecen solo en la introduction. S u p o n e m o s que quizás el autor advirdô este hecho

Este fenômeno ya lo ha resaltado Bunis, D. 1993. A Lexicon of the Hebrew and Aramaic Elements in Modern]ude?m0. Jerusalén: The Magnes Press, Hebrew University y Misgav Yerushalayim, 34. Los ejemplos han sido tornados de la ediciôn de La güerta de oro mencionada. Entre paréntesis indico la pagina donde se encuentran. El sistema de transcripciôn utilizado esta basado en la grafia alfonsi, aunque présenta algunas parucularidades. A condnuaciôn presento sus principales caracterísricas: -b : fonema labial oclusivo sonoro; —ν : fonema labial fricadvo sonoro, sin que podamos saber si su realizaciôn es bilabial o labiodental, puesto que ambas realizaciones coexisten en judeoespanol.; -•g" y j : fonemas prepalatales sonoros: fricadvo interior de palabra tras vocal y africado a principio de palabra y tras consonante; -χ• : fonema prepalatal fricadvo sonoro; —h : fonema velar—o faringeo—fricadvo sordo. Hay seseo (como en todos los textos sefardies), por lo que c", f, s n o intervocâlica y ss representan el fonema alveolar fricadvo sordo /s/; s intervocâlica y z representan el fonema alveolar fricativo sonoro / z / . Hay yeismo, por lo que la combinaciôn II se articula c o m o fricativa linguopalatal central sonora [y], igual q u e j . Normalizo los casos de anomalias grâficas sin senalarlo. Con este fenômeno esta relacionada la ûnica apariciôn de enhemplos (4a) junto al mas abundante enxemplos (5a, entre otros).

antes de que se compusiera el resto del libro y p u d o intervenir evitando que este f e n ô m e n o se extendiera al resto de la obra. O t r o de los f e n ô m e n o s que p o d e m o s senalar es la apariciôn de varias negaciones pleonâsticas, esto es, n o necesarias, puesto que la o r a t i o n tendria el mism o significado sin ellas. Estas negaciones aparecen en oraciones que d e p e n d e n generalmente de verbos de temor ο de palabras de carácter negativo. V e a m o s algunos ejemplos: sienpre está temblando que non sean danadas sus veluntades del haver (22b) el dichoso quismet es echo y criado de las bocas de las personas y esto por Jalta de non poder entender las razones y cavzas de aquellos maies que les vienen sin pensar sovre la caveça (23b) cale que vos guardex mucho de non acercarvos ni tocar vestido con vesddo con algûn franco (59a)

Este d p o de negation pleonâsdca es frecuente en el espanol medieval y, aunque también existe en el espanol m o d e r n o , está m e n o s extendida. E n t r a n d o ya en el sistema verbal, vamos a presentar varios ejemplos de ausencia del gerundio ο susdtuciôn de esta forma verbal p o r una preposition y el infinitivo, c o m o se observa en las siguientes oraciones: y ansi premiar y estimar a los que fazen bien para que se les acrecente la gana de continual a a%er y de fuir y apartarse de los que pagan y fazen mal (23b) como bedéreh maxal a un rey baxar vadam que setencia que todos los que están debajo de él sean povres y esto faze con tomarles las aziendas (20b) está en su mano a fazerse crecer esta 1ágrima de meollo y arafinarla cada dia más [...] con estudiar y conugear de ves en cuando todo modo de gente y sentir las cosas del mundo (20b)

Pasamos a condnuaciôn al anâlisis de los usos del futuro en distribution diferente a la del espanol c o n t e m p o r â n e o . E n el texto, c o m o hemos dicho, encontramos varios casos de futuro imperfecto de indicativo en lugar del présente de subjunrivo, en algunas estructuras pardculares que vamos a ver a condnuaciôn: 1. E n primer lugar, en las oraciones relativas especificativas prospectivas, es decir, referidas al futuro, que en el espanol c o n t e m p o r â n e o se construyen con présente de subjundvo, en el texto aparecen con futuro, c o m o p o d e m o s observar en los siguientes ejemplos: con demás aver metido la letra francesa que vino yaquindán del Rey de Francia que déclara los provechos y grandezas que ternán todos aquellos jidiôs que trän a morar en su reinado (1 a) la mi intenciôn non fue otra que para azer enbevecer y complazer al sovre dicho mi amigo que sox vos, como también a todos aquellos que les agradará meldarlo (3b) y esto será cuando la fuerça y la claridad del su meollo sovrepasse a la fuerça negra que podrâ tener la su estrella (23b)

E n oraciones relativas especificativas n o prospecdvas, sin embargo, encontram o s en el texto el présente de subjundvo:

non ay otro que un Xe[m] yit[barah] que sea bivo y firme (21a)

2. U n segundo uso del futuro de indicativo en lugar del présente de subjundvo lo encontramos en oraciones subordinadas sustantivas en funciôn de objeto directo de verbos de pensamiento c o m o esperar, segûn muestran los ejemplos que siguen: espero que a vos y a la gente savia y onrada les gustará a meldar esta mi fatiga y entenderân que lo que la fize fue más por amor vuesso (3a) espero que a vos y a la gente de buen entendimiento y de sanos meollos ressiviran y meldarân esta mi fadga con buen coraçôn: y agradecimiento (5b)

3. P o r ûltimo, hemos encontrado también algûn caso aislado de empleo del futuro en oraciones finales: esforçarà a aquella persona a azer el bien para que este que tuvo el quismet lo

go^arà (22a) Pese a este ejemplo, el uso del présente de subjundvo es el habituai en nuestra obra en este tipo de construcciones, lo que ejemplificamos a condnuaciôn: por non querer servirse del meollo que el Xe[m] yit[barah] le enpresentô aposta para que pense a todo modo de echo que va a azer (22b) espera a mandârsela más tarde que puede para que se le venda la suya más presto y más mijor (22b)

Este uso del futuro de indicadvo en lugar del présente de subjundvo que hemos senalado n o ha de tomarse c o m o indicio del retroceso en el uso del subjundvo en esta obra p o r dos razones: la primera es que el uso del futuro imperfecto de indicadvo en construcciones d o n d e hoy se emplea el présente de subjundvo lo encontramos también en castellano medieval y clàsico; la segunda razôn es que los d e m p o s del m o d o subjundvo se emplean ampliamente a lo largo del texto. Asi, el présente de subjundvo, al margen de las estructuras antes senaladas, presenta la misma distribution que en el espanol c o n t e m p o r â n e o y de ello encontramos n o pocos ejemplos, entre los que entresacamos los siguientes: sienpre está temblando que non sean danadas sus veluntades del haver (22b) non se le inporta que sea más baja (23a) cale que por fuerça vcryga también él en Franquia para poder bivir (23a)

También del pretérito imperfecto hay ejemplos en la obra, de los que aqui ofrecemos estos dos: el verdadero jidiô debe de tomar lehaf zehut, ο sea a parte buena, todo modo de cosa que se sintiesse dezir del haver (5b) si ellos entedieran que [...] aziendo alguna otra cosa pomposa. y tantas otras que son cuentra el buen entendimiento que es natural que con sus propias manos se están aziendo el quismet de tener mal (23b)

del pretérito perfecto hemos encontrado este ejemplo: cale ver si esta su povreza: la cavzaron la mala gente con llevarle y arevatarle las aziendas ο que aiga sido por el fuerte disgusto de la su Ventura (21b)

y el pretérito pluscuamperfecto también está representado en esta obra, de lo cual aqui expongo unas muestras: dize que si uviera savido él allà que el tal navio se tenia de perder que non avería cargado su azienda (21a) Y ansí digo que si todo Yisrael uviessenpodido antes ver con sus meollos assegún antesveian los profetas de la destruiciôn de ellos y de Yeruxa1áyim, cierto que uvieran tornado en texuvá (21a)

El ûnico tiempo del s u b j u n d v o del que n o hemos hallado ejemplos en esta obra es el futuro, que también se encuentra en amplio retroceso en el espanol contemporâneo. El ultimo f e n ô m e n o lingûisdco que vamos a analizar es el uso del futuro p o r el présente de indicadvo en la protasis de oraciones condicionales reales referidas a un tiempo futuro. Presentamos aqui varios ejemplos: si una persona sera savia y terná el vicio de jugar toda su hohmà, non varlà un aspro por la razôn que con el jugar se destrûe y viene a ser despreciado: y la gente necia toman enjemplo de él y se destrûen. lo mizmo es si sera borachôn: o sera mujerenco o gaavento: o si ternà alguna otra cosa fea que es tenida de la gente necia (21b) si la fuerça de la su negra estrella sera más grande de la fuerça suya y del su meollo, estonces el ombre quedará de debajo y terná el mal (23b)

Este uso t a m p o c o es el normativo en el espanol m o d e r n o , pero si se encuentra en la lengua medieval, generalmente, aunque n o exclusivamente, en textos con influencia catalana o aragonesa. También se halla en el espanol clàsico, fundamentalmente en textos de autores relacionados con Italia. Además, el uso del futuro es habituai en otras lenguas, c o m o el latin y el italiano, lo que n o ha de ser extrano, pues nos estamos refiriendo a condiciones cuyo cumplimiento o n o está en el porvenir. N o parece extrana la existencia de relaciôn entre los usos analizados del futuro de indicativo en lugar de los présentes—tanto de subjuntivo c o m o de indicativo—que prefiere el espanol contemporâneo. Es posible suponer que en el sistema lingüistico subyacente al texto hay una tendencia a expresar la nociôn de futuro con el tiempo que recibe esta d e n o m i n a t i o n de una forma más extensa que en el espanol. A m b o s fenômenos, asi c o m o el de la negation pleonâstica, n o son exclusivos de esta obra, sino también de otros textos sefardies y en nuestra opinion son muestras de una de las características principales de la lengua sefardi, la fijaciôn de su norma de forma independiente a la de las otras ramas del espanol con las que comparte un origen c o m û n .

G E N I O Y FIGURA DE SEIS POETAS SEFARDIES DE AMSTERDAM, H A M B U R G O Y L I V O R N O DE LOS SIGLOS XVII-XVIII KENNETH BROWN University of Calgary, Canada

Durante más de dos siglos la Inquisiciôn espafiola y portuguesa perseguia a sospechosos de judaizar con un afán resoluto y con la eficacia de una burocracia moderna. Las medidas empleadas por los inquisidores, sobre todo por los nuevos en el cargo, eran inhumanas, salvajes, brutales. La existencia de este organismo oficial y burocrâdco tuvo que responsabilizarse, además de los horrores, de obligar a un grupo nutrido de estos judaizantes a exiliarse de la Peninsula Ibérica. El exilio tenia sus desventajas obvias, pero sus ventajas también. Posibilitô una renovaciôn de dotes personales, promoviô estrategias para la supervivencia, y ampliô la creadvidad literaria. Por ejemplo, el exilio obligô al espanol judaizante hacia un muld- ο plurilingüismo tanto prâcdco c o m o estético. Se le muldplicaban las experiencias vitales, las que se evocan en las obras de estos exiliados con una plurivocidad de significados, comprensibles solo a una minoria de correligionarios. El exilio favoreciô la formaciôn de varias "nuevas personalidades," tanto civicas c o m o literarias. Los criticos literarios han tendido a destacar al cordobés Miguel de Barrios (1635-1701) c o m o el modelo ejemplar del escritor sefardi a caballo entre dos culturas: la espafiola del siglo de oro y la hebrea ortodoxa de Amsterdam. Pero habia m u c h o s más. E n este trabajo escribiré sobre seis personalidades sefardies de la diàspora de los siglos XVII y XVIII: 1. Shlomo Abudiente (Simâo Rodrigues Navarro), de Moura, Portugal (ca. 1580-ca. 1630); 2. Antonio Enriquez G ô m e z , de Cuenca (1600-1661); 3. Abraham G ô m e z Silveira (Diego Gomes), de Arévalo (16561741); 4. Rebeca Isabel Correa, de Portugal (m. ca.1698); 5. David (Félix) del Valle Saldana, de Badajoz (1699-1755); y 6. Jeosûah (Jesus?) Habilho, de H a m b u r g o (s. XVIII; m. ca. 1765). Cada individuo tenia o debia tener su musa séria, contrita y conforme a la ortodoxia hebrea, y cada u n o también tenia su musa secular y a veces fesdva. Mi propôsito es comentar y analizar ciertos rasgos evidentes en sus respectivas obras literarias que nos ayudarán a comprender mejor su perfil psicolôgico y creadvo. Cada uno de estos seis individuos era en alguna manera un sobreviviente de las redadas inquisitoriales. T o d o s habian perdido su patria, amigos y familiares. T o d o s se negaron al conformismo de una vida crisdana en una Iberia acomodada; todos eran exiliados contra su voluntad. D e ahi una fortaleza especial, un talento agudizado, una flexibilidad inusitada: el deseo de sobrevivir. Comienzo con la personalidad más estrafalaria del grupo, Shlomo Abudiente, nacido Simâo Rodrigues Navarro en Moura, Portugal. Procedia de una fami-

lia de conversos; sin embargo, seguia un tren de vida muy conformista: estudiante de derecho canônico y civil en Coimbra (1597-1603), luego monje extrapenitente en Madrid en la época de 1608—1618 [Ρ] ; por fin lo localizamos en Venecia y Livorno en 1621 ("em veneria entrey quando uim de Amsterdam a noite de pascoa de sucot ano 5380"). 1 Alii se hace amigo adoptivo de la familia Abudiente, cripto-judios de abolengo portugués, oriundos de Hamburgo con enlaces en Italia. De Livorno pasa a Bologna, donde reside con el Dr. Manuel Rodriguez Navarro, conocido como "il Dottor Spagnuolo," su do de parte patema. Segûn su propia declaration ante los inquisidores de Roma en 1624, Shlomo creia que su do pracdcaba el judaismo en secreto. Es curiosa tal déclaraciôn tenida de duda de este sefardi atormentado, ya que en 1617 y 1622 su famoso do, profesor de la Universidad conimbrense, habia padecido in absentia la confiscation de sus bienes ante el Santo Oficio por ser judaizante. El acta fue formalizada en Madrid. E n su vida se ve que Shlomo nunca estaba seguro de casi nada, menos de si mismo. N o s fascina este nuevo reconverso puesto que gracias a sus estudios de Talmud y Torà, nos ha proporcionado un bello cancionero lirico, cuya action amorosa tiene lugar en Toledo y también en Madrid. Shlomo, Jacob Esperiel y sus amigos correligionarios solian reunirse en sus ratos de ocio para entonar las "cantigas" más melifluas de Castilla la Nueva de su tiempo. Shlomo Abudiente recordaba una tira de versos de la égloga tercera de Garcilaso ("Serca del taio en soledad amena"), trasladaba a su hebreo recién aprendido, pero en aljamia, con su letra hebrea cursiva Rashi, el romance tal vez lopesco de "Oye, divina sefiora / las quejas de un triste amo. / ... Esto cantaba un pastor / a las orillas del Tajo / a ausencia de su Amarilis [Marta de Nevares?] / y asi cantaba a los aires"; y hasta sonaba con otro romance en el repertorio, " P o r las puertas de Toledo" que ha de ser una equivocation mem0rística por "Por las puertas del esdo," de Lope. Genio y figura hasta la sepultura: gracias a nuestro antologista, sus tormentos personales le llevaron a la neurosis, la inseguridad y a la paranoia, pero también le brindaban la posibilidad de atravesar fronteras, estudiar nuevas lenguas, comprender otras ideologias para captar para la posterioridad unas muestras de la musa lirica de mil seiscientos que en cualquier otra situation humana seguramente hubieran quedado olvidadas. C o m o apéndice a la historia cabria decir que este judaizante ferviente tornaria al seno del catolicismo además de denunciar a su familia adoptiva a la Inquisition italiana. El segundo ingenio es el converso Antonio Enriquez G ô m e z (1600-1661), conquense perambulante, poeta, autor de teatro, polemicista, que quiso ser judio a toda costa durante una época decisiva para su formation creativa, pero sin atenerse necesariamente a la ortodoxia de los rabinos de Amsterdam ni a los preceptos de la alianza entre Abraham y Adonay, es decir mediante el ‫" ברית מ י ל ה‬la circuncisiôn." 2 Un rasgo saliente de su genio era el dominio de su publico, ya fuera lector ο espectador, laico, religioso ο politico. Se ensenô a nutrir una pluri1

2

Brown, K.-Gômez Aranda, M. 1998. "A New Seventeenth-Century Spanish and Portuguese Canâonero and its Sephardi Connection." Romance Philology 52, 45-70. Véase de Wilke, C. L. 1994. Jiidische-Christliche Dopplelehen in Barock: Antonio Enrique^ Gáme^. Frankfurt: Peter Lang.

vocidad de significados en sus obras literarias segûn las exigencias del consumidor. He aqui un nuevo ejemplo del juego polisémico que guiaba su intelecto de converso: en el tomo de las Academias morales de las musas (1642) intercala très sonetos " E n alabanza de Adán," " E n alabanza de E n o c h / ' y " E n alabanza de N o é " en la narration. 3 El tomo de las Academias se encabeza con una Dedication a cargo de Francisco Sazedôn, y va dirigida a D. Juan de Goyeneche, "sindico de la Santa Provincia de Burgos, del Orden de N uestro Vadre S an Francisco, y Administrador de los Puertos Secos de Casdlla." Le sigue una "Aprobaciôn" del Padre M. Fray Juan Baurista Palacio, del Orden de la Sandsima Trinidad, Calificador del Santo Oficio." Unos preliminares de sello más catôlico y casdzo no podian encontrarse. A condnuaciôn viene una historia de caballerias y de pastores fantásdca, en rima de romance (que la voz narradva cualifica de "triunfo enamorado"), seguida de la primera Academia, donde el personaje del Pasajero, nàufrago desde hace cuarenta anos y piloto del bajel de la vida, présenta a cualquier lector "pasajero" una exhortation a la templanza y una prédica contra la vanidad de lo material. Unas treinta páginas más adelante en el texto, c o m o si fueran contertulios de una academia literaria madrilena, Albano, Alvaro y Danteo recitan très epigramas, los sonetos sobre los biblicos Adán, Enoch y Noé. Estos mismos sonetos, acompanados de veindtrés adicionales, todos sobre héroes y heroinas de la Torá, aparecen en un manuscrito milanés de procedencia holandesa. Yo, en otro lugar, considéra este cancionero una colecciôn bipolar divisible en dos campos: el peninsular catôlico, representado por Gôngora, Lope, Quevedo, Villamediana, la Inquisition y el catolicismo militante frente al de los exiliados sefardies: Abraham Salon, Barrios, Antonio Raposo, A. E. G., Jacob de Pina, David Henriques, los patriarcas y matriarcas del Anriguo Testamento y los mártires judeoespafioles relajados en el auto de fe de Côrdoba, de 1655. E n este manuscrito, el conjunto de 26 sonetos forma un corpus poetarum unitario de un catâlogo de hebreos triunfantes, que han pervivido gracias a su transmisiôn manuscrita. Podrian ser los "triunfos inmortales en rima" que anunciaba A. E. G. en el prôlogo a su Sanson Na^areno. En las Academias morales, no obstante, los très sonetos resultan facdcios, sin relaciôn estrecha entre si, aunque el que trata sobre Noé, descrito como "piloto ... errante," puede que sirviera al poeta de un àlterego en busca de un gobierno justo. Aqui Noé maneja el timon de su "cisne de pino" de una manera tnunfante. Clara está que existe un leve vinculo lingûisdco entre el discurso de este soneto y la narraciôn que le precede en el texto. Los 26 sonetos son asimismo un pequeno cancionero unitario además de un fuerte testimonio, en forma manuscrita, del atractivo que siente el poeta por una hagiografia judia militante, justa y heroica. Su temárica es la necesidad de que hubiera una monarquia sabia y prudente, de validos como Moisés. Los héroes y las heroinas véterotestamentarios son pasajeros, peregrinos, exiliados, y victimas también, taies como lo son las voces del älterego del autor conquense en varias obras suyas. Incluso se percibe una llamada mesiánica en el soneto n° 13, " E n alabanza de

Cfr. Brown, K. y Valerio, C. 1996. "Nuevas calas sobre la persona y la obra de Antonio Enriquez G ô m e z . " Revista Cuenca (Cuenca: Diputaciôn Provincial) 44, 47-65.

Judá," en cierto m o d o equiparable al del "Romance de Lope de Vera y Alarcôn" ( w . 493 ss.). Con la lectura del texto manuscrito estamos muy lejos en tono e intencionalidad de la lectura de los preliminares del texto impreso. Son mundos aparte, y permiten apreciar cuán ingenioso era Antonio Enriquez G o m e z al crear un côdigo hermenéudco basado, en gran parte, en el mero medio de transmisiôn de su texto. El tercer ingenio es Diego ο Diogo G o m e s Silveira (1656-1740), de Arévalo, que se transforma en Abraham Gômez Silveira ya instalado en Amsterdam. Su primer brote de gran creadvidad es un pequeno volumen de sermones predicados en la sinagoga de Kahal Kado en 1676. Me llaman la atenciôn no las homilias en una prosa poco esdmulante, sino très poemitas en los très idiomas que ya dominaba a una edad tan temprana: el hebreo, el portugués y el espanol:

Respuesta del Autor [Cuarteto] ‫מ ז מ ו ר ל ת ו ד ה כל בנועם שרו‬ ‫בשיר ו ה ו ד א ה ואמרי ש פ ר‬ ‫בעלי ברית אברם מ א ד נכרו‬ ‫על כל אשר כ ו ת ב אני בספר‬ Canto esta canciôn de agradecimiento, que todos han cantado. Mediante la canciôn se asegura el convenio con Abraham, y que la naciôn hebrea acepte todas mis palabras que he escrito en este libro.

Breve reposta aos referidos elôgios [Dézima] C o m o é tanta a discreçào con que aplaudis meu sugeito, nào hay razào, sem conceito, nem conceito sem razào; mayor é a emulaçào que ο aplauso que me dais, pois tal engenho mostrais meus estudos sublimando, que mais dizeis vos louvando que eu digo en quanto Iouvais.

Al curioso (p. 112) N o hay impresiôn sin erratas, y si en ésta hallares yerros yo enmiendo los de la estampa, tu enmienda los del ingenio. 4

El poeta poliglota aparentemente nunca llegaria a ser otro Paravicino, orador en plan serio—por suerte nuestra. E n prosa y en forma manuscrita se haria polemicista pro-ortodoxia mosaica. Ahora bien, al contrario, como ingenio del Siglo Brown, Κ.-den Boer, Η. Abraham Gáme^ Sitveira (Arévalo, prov. de Avila, Castilla 1656-Amsterdam 1741): el Quevedo sefardi. Estudio preliminar, obras tiricas, vejámenes en prosa y verso, y documentation personaL Kassel: Reichenberger (en prensa).

de Oro, pero desde la periferia de los países del norte, se haría un académico del Amstel, un forjador de versos de cabo roto en su Historia de Sabbatai Sevi, asi imitando al Cervantes de los preliminares del Quixote del 1605; un poeta de la digresiôn absurda, arte este aprendido en las prosas de Quevedo y transmidda a sus vejámenes rimados con fines homiléucos; y un secuaz gongorino empedernido. El librito de Sermones (1676) lo escribiô a la edad de veinte afios; en los 1730, cuando ya es septuagenario, escribe el siguiente epitafio como 1ápida funeraria para Reina Enriques Silva: "Yace en esta fria losa / la mas constante mujer, / de lo adverso supo hacer / motivo a lo virtuosa ... " (énfasis mio), asi recordando el dtulo de una obra de teatro que Pérez de Montalbân incluia en el Para todos de 1636. Genio y figura hasta la sepultura. La cuarta personalidad es Isabel Correa (m. ca. 1696), de Lisboa, Madrid y, luego Amsterdam, de quien actualmente se escribe bastante, pero de quien se sabe poco nuevo. 5 En una décima conceptual que hace poco pude idendficar, Miguel de Barrios la coloca como décima musa por encima del Monte Parnaso. 6 Vuelvo a contribuir a la escasa documentaciôn literaria sobre esta poedsa con un romance donde ella tal vez saiga retratada. Proviene del mismo manuscrito donde localicé el p r i m e r o y p a r e c e ser del m i s m o Barrios: 203v:

(5)

(10)

(15)

(20)

5

6

Por hermosa y por letrado sale en la estampa Isabel, libro de tan lindo cuerpo como de buen parecer. Punto es final su cabeça de la linea de su ser y Naturaleza que es pluma con pelo la formô bien. Es punto de admirasiôn pues esdngue Amor en él los senddos con que habla, las potencias con que ve. Côncabo por lo sublime cubre al juizio con que fiel hibanal dene en el seso quando apelô al ciego Rey. Su frente es plana sin letras de rapaz que por dar fe de tener llaneza altiva ciega al ver su candez. Cada ceja es un ce grande

Véanse de Lopez Estrada, F. 1994. "Isabel Rebeca Correa: Defensa de la mujer escritora en el Amsterdam sefardi del siglo XVII." En Los judai^antes en Europa y ta literatura castellana del Siglo de Oro. Madrid: Letrümero, 261-272; Idem, "Poética barroca. Ediciôn y estudio de los preliminares de Et Pastor Fido de Guarini, traducido por Isabel Correa (1694)." E n Hommage à Robert Jammes. Anejos de Criticôn 1, 739-753; e Idem, "Una voz de la Holanda hispánica sefardi: Isabel Rebeca Correa." En La creatividadfemeninay las trampas delpoder. Ed. Kassel: Reichenberger (en prensa). Véase Brown, Κ. con la colaboraciôn de Karau, S. "La Poétisa es la luna que con las de Apolo viene: nuevos datos sobre y textos de varias poétisas sefardies de los siglos XVII y XVIII." En La creatividadfemeninay tas trampas delpoder. Ed. Kassel: Reichenberger (en prensa).

con que 11amánd0me ayer

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por segar a letra vista alcé los ojos, alcé. Respirante abreviatura la puerta de su boz es de dos carreras de perlas con márgenes de clavel. Son del libro de su pecho fabla, las mexillas que dan senales encendidos de lo que haga a encender. 7

Mi hipôtesis es que Barrios "reciclara" un romance esqueleto que ya habia usado para una novia sefardita de la Comunidad como retrato de la poétisa su amiga, retrato éste que iba a agraciar la ediciôn de un libro suyo {{El Pastor Fido? <;Su cancionero extraviado?). 8 N o poseemos ni el retrato a pluma ni el cancionero. El Pastor Fido, si, con una hoja en bianco tal vez donde tuviera que reproducirse el mencionado retrato como grabado. Ahora bien, el "ambiente" literario del manuscrito Lansdowne 711 de la British Library es asimismo secular y politica7

8

L a n s d o w n e MS. 711, en 4to, Obras poéticas de Don Miguel de Barrios. Cit. en A Catalogue of the Lansdome Manuscripts in the British Museum (1819). Vol. 2., 162, 2 a . col. Véase Brown, "La P o e u s a . " Ahora bien, una variante de este m i s m o p o e m a "esqueleto" sale impresa en la "Silva Epita1ámica / E n el feliz desposorio de los Ilustres Senores MOSSEH de ABRAHAM MOCATA y DONA ESTHER COEN CAMINA" del m i s m o Barrios (ejemplar LI 15 de la H e r z o g August Bibliothek Wolfenbüttel, Alemania), dtulado Alegrias, 0 pinturas iucientes de Hymeneo. Amsterdam 1686: "Pintura de la Senora Novia D o n a E s t h e r Coen Camina, E n m e t a p h o r a de un libro." (Fol. 81r-v)

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Libro de tan lindo cuerpo sale de la estampa Esther, que Mosseh le da la m a n o p o r parecerle de ley. A u n q u e su beldad es pluma c o n pelo, se f o r m a bien, y haze p u n t o la cabeça de la linea de su ser. E n su llano frondspicio sabe al alva amanecer,

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sobre crepûsculos negros que arcos son del nirio rey. Respira alientos del alma (40) el pàrrapho del oler, p o r declarar en el ayre el enigma de su fe. Sirven de indice los ojos, y es cosa al a m o r de ver el s e n d d o con que habla de su visible ninez. (45) Respirante abreviatura la puerta de la voz es de dos carreras de perlas con márgenes de clavel. (50) Los [sic\ comas dene en los p u n t o s que se m a n d e n e , y lo que

gusta su belleza más es el dexarse entender. Bella cifra en sus mexillas de grama y nieve se ve, porque salgan los colores al que la Uega a leer. El cabo es de su lectura la barba, y coluna fiel el arcaduz de los gustos que passan la vida bien. Las manillas son las m a n o s de bianco y vivo papel, y en las lineas de las palmas su buena Ventura leë. El talle passa de largo por lo que estrecha aprender la lecciôn de su cintura y estudiar su corto pie. E n sus passos de escritura al almario del querer corre c o n cinco s e n d d o s este libro de Mosseh. Gôcelo dichosos siglos el noble Antonio Gabriel con fructos de bendiciô en las hojas de la Ley.

mente correcto además de ser judaicamente afiliado. E n la parte superior del fol. 6v se lee la anotaciôn autografiada "en vizpera de Pesah ano de 1698," y en el fol. 4v el romance "Dios es uno y dos su obra." Instalada en Amsterdam y converdda al judaismo, Isabel Rebeca Correa de Portugal y luego Madrid se hacia autora profesional con sus très ediciones de difusiôti de su El Pastor Fido, impresas en Amberes y Amsterdam en menos de dos anos. Habia traducido un clàsico "moderno" del renacimiento italiano y habia llegado a dominar el conceptismo verbal (ejemplos de los que ella denomina "reflexiones" ilustradas en su prôlogo a la traducciôn de Guarino), cuando no ensayaba con algùn que otro gongorismo. Aquello por los anos de 1690 era la exception y no la norma para una mujer poeta, cuando menos para una sefardita.9 En el mundo literario pagano de sus renglones traducidos del toscano, uno busca alguna senal, algûn referente siquiera de la semiôrica representativa de la filosofia o afiliaciôn religiosa de su traductora-progenitora. En la p. 10 de su ediciôn de Amsterdam, en el mencionado prôlogo Isabel Rebeca nos explica que destacará sus propias "Reflexiones" en el texto de la siguiente forma: perrmtame la osadia, sin que me rina la modesda, el que me atreva a dezir que excedo el original, en parte, (si no me engana el serlo en juizio propio) por averlo illustrado con algunas Reflexiones, que me occurrian [sic\ al propôsito, y assi mismo por lo que intima Quintiliano, en lo que afirma: ser de limitado ingenio, no saber dezir más de lo que otros dixieron, van notadas a la margen con una estrella, cuyo influxo se difunde hasta que termina en dos paralelas rayas....

Esta es la primera y ultima vez en el texto que se apreciará la Magen David, que pronto se degenerará en una estrella de cinco puhtos y luego en asterisco. ^Pura coincidencia o detalle intencionado? Aunque tal hipôtesis mia pueda aparentar disparatada, aduzco otros ejemplos: en el fol. Ilr del librillo Shabbethai Sevi: uma carta em português do século XVII em que se testemunbam factos relativos â sua vida (Lisboa 1925), del académico sefardita Moses Bensabat Amzalak, se ve un Magen David grande cuya intention no puede ser menos que senalar la religion de su autor y / o la materia de la obra; en un Macha^or sefardita (Venezia 1736), hay un Magen David en el centro del Ets Haim;i0 y hay la divisa tipogrâfica de la casa editorial de Emanuel Benveniste de Amsterdam, de un redondel con un castillo a la izquierda, un leôn que se apoya en él a la derecha, y una estrellita de seis puntos encima de los dos," simbolizando asi el vinculo entre Casdlla, Leôn y el mundo del judaismo sefardi. El quinto ingenio es David del Valle Saldana, quien, gracias al exilio y a su conversion llegô a combinar lo mejor de los très mundos responsables de su formaciôn intelectual—personificaba el mundo del garbo y la picardia del hombre 9 10

"

Fords, U. 1991. Editoria in Ebraico a Venera. Ferona: Arsenale, 52. Fuks, L. y Fuks-Mansfeld, R. G. 1984. Hebrew Typography in the Northern Netherlands 1585-1815. Leiden: Brill, 154, num. IX. "El Afrodiseo"y otras obras literarias de David del Valle Saldana (1699-1755). Mérida: Editora Regional de Extremadura, 1997.

ibérico de la Espana del Siglo de Oro con la formation ciendfica y la libertad de culto religioso experimentados en pleno Siglo de las Luces en los Países Bajos del Norte. E n su Afrodiseo, cancionero al loco amor, combina a la maestria una situation irreverente, burda y burlesca, estereodpadamente ibérica, con fraseologia reverente y sagrada judaica: "Fue la causa cierta monja / que se llamô Margarita, / y por caer de un balcon / hizo mi musa lasciva. / Jamás hubiera caido / la dicha monja engreida / para que yo no supiese / que más calienta que enfria. / Lo fue también cierto fraile, / al parecer jesuita, / que la esperaba debajo / con el àrbol de la vida. ..."12 El equivoco se basa en el nombre de la Yeshiva sefardi de Amsterdam de su época (‫ עיץ חיים‬/ Ets Haim), amén de referirse al estudio de Tord. Más tarde en el cancionero, en su poema n°. VII, mezcla terminologia aprendida en su praxis médica con un humor burdo basado en un juego de palabras sobre la régla femenina: "El que fuere tributario / de aquesta grande pasiôn / buscará por prevention / licencia del Ordinario," donde la voz Ordinario conlleva dos significados: el de "juez" ο "revisor," además del de "la régla, que acude a las mugeres todos los meses." Hay que tener en cuenta que del Valle Saldana ejercia de toco-ginecôlogo. Y en su novela jocosa, "Lo que son hombres," describe al protagonista como germânico que ha vivido en Flandes que es, segûn él, la tierra de los picaros, desde donde iba a la Nederlandia del itinerario sexual: "Es el Pedro un alemân, / pasô por la Picardia, / y esto de los Países Bajos / los pasea cada día." El últim0 del repertorio es Yeosûah Habilho, residente en Hamburgo durante la época 1720-1764. Debia ser procedente de Portugal. De dondequiera que fuera, este converso vuelto al judaismo evidenciaba todo el descaro pero también toda la soltura de un Sancho Panza. Asi advierte a su lector después de los preliminares a su Cancionero Nuevo:13 "Si con ànimo sencillo / me recibes, sin regüeldo, / yo te fio que otro sueldo / presto pagues a Habillo." Para poder "contar su historia," creô un metalenguaje propio en un portugués salpicado de voces del inglés, francés, alemân, holandés, hebreo, ladn y espanol. Un epflogo suyo bastará como ejemplo: [poema XXXVIII] Versosfeitospor Jeosuah Habilho em defensa de seu filho contra a Viuvinha, Ribcah, filha de Semuel Jessurum, por alcunha Ponhas, 0 Tron, Schiter. Como mostrar, que seu filho nem Mr. jamais tiverào, / nem pretenderào, nada da nassào / tào pouco a maem ("Versos hechos por Jeosuah Habilho, en defensa de su hijo contra la viuda, Ribca, hija de Semuel Jessurum, por apellido picha, ο trônera, cagadera·. Con tal de mostrar que su hijo ni Monsieur [,£el yo?] jamás han tenido / ni han pretendido pedir nada a la Nation [comunidad sefardi] / ni tampoco tenian malas intenciones [
Conclus iones Era don Marcelino Menéndez y Pelayo quien escribia hace cien anos: "La literatura de los judaizantes espanoles del siglo XVII, lo mismo que su ciencia, no 12

13

"The Spanish and Portuguese Golden-Age Parnassus in Hamburg (I): Jeosuah Habilho's Colecciôn Nueva (1764)." Die Sefarden in Hamburg. Vol. II, 1997, 876-974. Refiero al lector a mi "Cancioneros del Parnaso sefardi, siglos XVII‫־‬XV1II." Acts of the 1995 Asociaciôn Internacional de Hispanistas. II. Estudios Aureos I, 1998, 60-69.

tiene originalidad ni carácter propio; antes sigue todas las vicisitudes de gusto propias de la general espafiola." 14 Nada más lejos de la verdad. N u e s t r o pequefio grupo de seis es representadvo del f e n ô m e n o del escritor sefardi en el norte de E u r o p a en los siglos XVII y XVIII. Delante de nosotros han desfilado conversos vagantes, que a lo largo de sus peregrinaciones aprendian nuevas canciones, asumian inauditos discursos, y experimentaban con un publico variado. Shlomo era m u c h o más fascinante y problemâdco que Simâo; Antonio Enriquez G ô m e z judio más compendioso, mejor enfocado y harto más polémico que Antonio Enriquez G ô m e z catôlico·, Abraham muchisimo más z u m b ô n e ingenioso que Diego; Rebeca considerablemente más famosa y cripdca que Isabel; David harto más rico en expresividad muldcultural que Félix; y j e o s ù a tanto más autobiogràfico, quejica y cridcôn de lo que pudiera haber sido Jesus. Homilias sacras se fusionan con sátiras burlescas, un médico opera con silabas y conceptos y canta con bisturí, Sancho Panza se enfrenta con un baham y un saddik, poliglotas se extienden más allà de las fronteras lingiiisucas familiares, brilla la Magen David frente a la cruz, una mujer sube al Parnaso. Asi era el Parnaso sefardi del norte de Europa: suma originalidad y màximo carácter propio, nuevos ingeniös y estrafalarias figuras.

14

Menéndez y Pelayo, M. Historia de los heterodoxos espanoles. Vol. IV, "Protestanrismo y sectas misticas." Vol. XXXVIII de las Obras complétas de M. M. P. Ed. E. Sanchez Reyes. 2' ed. Madrid: CSIC. 1963, 285-323.

L o s SEFARDÍES ENTRE LA CRISTIANDAD Y EL ISLAM EN LOS SIGLOS XVI Y XVII MIGUEL-ÁNGEL DE BUNES IBARRA CSIC, Madrid, Spain

1492 es una fecha que enmarca uno de los estadios que se pueden referir para resefiar el cambio de Era histôrica en el Mediterrâneo y de la relation de fuerzas entre la Crisdandad y el Islam. Además de la expulsion de los judios, en este ano se culmina la presencia de los musulmanes en la Europa Occidental, poniendo de esta manera el punto final a los efectos de la primera expansion del Islam en Europa. Los sefardies, al igual que; los andalusies, serán tesdgos de primera fila, y en alguna ocasiôn participes, de c o m o se articula la vida del Mediterrâneo en los siglos XVI y XVII.

El Magreb y los territorios europeos, asiâticos y africanos del Imperio O t o m a n o son, c o m o es bien sabido, los destinos tradicionales de la diàspora de los grupos musulmanes y hebreos que se exilian voluntariamente en los siglos XIV y XV y de los expulsados de 1492, peregrination forzada que se completarà con la salida de los judios Portugueses y de los conversos que huyen de la Inquisition en el siglo siguiente. Durante esta época se está produciendo un fenômeno singular en el m u n d o mediterrâneo, c o m o es la apariciôn de dos Imperios Supranationales que intentan expandirse por ambas riberas del mar. Los Otomanos, en concreto, comienzan a ser en 1391 una auténtica potencia europea al someter a los Serbios en la primera batalla de Mohacs. Esta segunda expansion del Islam, menos importante y significativa que la primera en cuanto a su signification posterior, tiene, por contra, la característica de ser muy rápida y duradera en el tiempo, lo que tendrá su importancia en la propia historia sefardi, c o m o se ve en alguno de los temas tratados en las comunicaciones de este congreso. Dejando a un lado la historia politica y militar de esta expansion, los dos Imperios que la llevan a cabo denen estructuras completamente diferentes en cuanto su organization politica. El lado cristiano está fijando las bases de su poder interior en la creaciôn de una sociedad religiosamente uniforme, lo que conlleva la aniquilaciôn de las minon'as creenciales por la expulsion de las mismas ο por su conversion voluntaria y forzosa de los grupos no catôlicos, moriscos, conversos y los habitantes de las nuevas tierras descubiertas al otro lado del mar. El Islam, por contra, está creando estructuras politicas (ya que résulta dificultoso hablar de estados segûn las teorias renacentistas del poder para el Magreb occidental) basadas en la aceptaciôn y acatamiento de la soberania del principe, en este caso del sultân, sin tener que renunciar a sus credos, lenguas y culturas originarias de las poblaciones sometidas y conquistadas. El Sultân de la Sublime Puerta es el califa de los creyentes,

después de la conquista del Egipto mameluco y de Bagdad, al mismo dempo que el defensor de las iglesias autocéfalas ortodoxas de Bulgaria, Serbia, Chipre, el Patriarcado (FANAR o F E N E R ) de Constanunopla, las iglesias maronitas, armenias y coptas y el defensor del gran rabino de Constanunopla, figura que nace para que las autoridades de la raia islâmica tengan un ùnico interlocutor dentro de los diferentes grupos hebreos del Imperio, y en concreto de la capital donde se instala la Sublime Puerta. Esto supone, para no extendernos en un tema que séria objeto de una comunicaciôn en si mismo, una division entre los dos poderes que se presentan ante sus antagonistas como los defensores màximos de cada uno de los credos religiosos mayoritarios en las aguas de este mar que nunca se habia mostrado tan tajante en la Edad Media. Este cambio también viene acompanado por las divergentes concepciones de la organization del Estado que se producen entre los dos grandes Imperios Mediterrâneos, la monarquia Catôlica de los Austrias y el Imperio de la Casa de Osmân. El otro gran cambio que se produce en las riberas de estas aguas, consecuencia directa de los procesos de expansion de ambos Imperios, es la constitution de sociedades de frontera, lugares donde se acomodan perfectamente los grupos sefardies c o m o consecuencia de las acdvidades econômicas a las que se dedican y de la necesidad de tener grupos humanos intermedios que favorezcan la instauration de sistemas de dominio ajenos a las poblaciones mayoritarias de las tierras donde se establecen los conquistadores. La creation de los sistemas de presidios, "fronteiras" segûn la denomination portuguesa, y de ciudades y repúblicas semi-independientes dedicadas al corso de manera institucionalizada y aceptada por cada uno de los contendientes, abren expectativas que facilitan la integration de los grupos sefardies en el m u n d o arabe, asi como el mantenimiento de los contactos con el espanol, c o m o es el caso de la ciudad de Orân, segûn ha estudiado de forma exhaustiva la Dra. Beatriz Alonso Acero. La instalaciôn de los sefardies en Estambul también se puede explicar por la necesidad de contar con un grupo humano que ve en el Sultân su ûnica salvaguarda, al mismo tiempo que un grupo de una fidelidad probada en un espacio que se acaba de conquistar. Los sefardies, c o m o un siglo más tarde ocurrirà con los moriscos en Tûnez, son unos desheredados que se convierten en "los más fieles vasallos del mejor senor" por ser su ûnica posibilidad en un contexto politico y social que les es hostil. Sobre estos dos cambios, resenados minimamente en los minutos anteriores, me planteo mi anâlisis de los sefardies entre la Cristiandad y el Islam. Centrândonos en el segundo de los mismos, el de la constitution de una sociedad de frontera, si repasamos los lugares de instalaciôn en el Magreb occidental queda perfectamente clara la tendencia a rehacer su nueva vida después de la expulsion en la otra fachada del Mediterrâneo justo en la linea de fractura y tension entre los dos grandes poderes politicos de este espacio. Badis, Penôn de Vêlez de la Gomera, Tánger, Tetuán, Arzila, Salé-Rabat, Larache, Azemur, Agadir, Alcazarquivir, Argel, Sersel, Tûnez, Orân, Tremecén y su puerto de Honayn, Mostaganem, Bugia, Constantina, Djerba (los Gelbes segûn la terminologia espafiola que "madré, malos son de ganar") y las Kerkenes

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(kerkena en árabe), junto a Fez y Marrakus son las localidades d o n d e está bien documentada la presencia de judios de origen espanol antes y después del decreto de expulsion. D e j a n d o a un lado las dos ciudades imperiales marroquies, Fez y Marrakus d o n d e su avecindamiento responde a otras cuesdones, en el resto de las ciudades citadas se pueden referir episodios militares ο largos periodos de tension para dominarlas p o r parte de cualquiera de los contendientes: espanoles, o t o m a n o s y sa'adies en los siglos XVI y XVII junto a los presidios de Ceuta, Melilla y la cercana Xauen. Si r e p a s â r a m o s la h i s t o r i a d e c a d a u n a d e ellas e n c o n t r a r i a m o s u n a s e r i e d e puntos

comunes

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todas:

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de

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redistribution de mercancías.

Se puede referir la tendencia de las comunidades expulsadas a instalarse en aquellos lugares d o n d e ya existen correligionarios, y en nucleos urbanos (como séria el caso de la Rumelia otomana) a los que ellos contribuyen decisivamente a fundar y reforzar (como séria el caso de Salônica) pero ello trae implicito olvidar las especiales caracterîsdcas p o r las que atraviesan estas urbes durante el siglo XVI, que imprimen carácter a las mismas comunidades sefardies allî instaladas. La trans f o r m a t i o n de la comunidad judia de Argel résulta especialmente significadva de la evolution que dene esta urbe en relation a la frontera, siendo a su vez, junto a O r â n , el paradigma de lo que dépara la misma frontera. Los judios que huyen de la ciudad de Palma de Mallorca a finales del siglo XIV se instalan en una pequena ciudad que pracdca un corso de autosubsistencia y en la que inician sus acdvidades artesanales y comerciales tradicionales, lo que es un acicate para que algunos de los expulsados por los Reyes catôlicos vayan a vivir con sus correligionarios. Con el tiempo, la juderia de Argel se convertira en un foco de atracciôn de los expulsados p o r los Reyes Catôlicos, constituyéndose una comunidad bien definida, que tendrá frecuentes contactos con los sefardies oraneses instalados dentro de la ôrbita de influencia hispana y con los tunecinos e istanbuliotas, ya dentro del área de influencia otomana. Por referir exclusivamente un dato de los m u c h o s que se podrian argüir, los contactos entre mercaderes sefardies van a conseguir el abastecimiento de granos en la ciudad de O r â n en 1580 r o m p i e n d o las supuestas prohibiciones de comerciar con materias vedadas p o r parte de los dos poderes polîticos en esta época. Este grupo, c o m o otros m u c h o s instalados en Constantinopla y otras urbes bajo control musulmân, es, junto a los renegados, el elemento intermedio entre los dos poderes polîticos y religiosos que confluyen en el Mediterrâneo, a la vez que el reflejo de la moral acomodaticia y de circunstancias que se instala y extiende a lo largo de t o d o este espacio h u m a n o y politico. Se puede argüir que el buen recibimiento de las autoridades del beylerbelik o t o m a n o y su cercania a la Peninsula Ibérica son los dos elementos que convierten este d e s d n o en muy atractivo, de la misma manera que p o d e m o s anotar las oportunidades comerciales que dépara la actividad del corso, y el desarrollo econômico que trae consigo, transformando este lugar en un d e s d n o

singularmente atractivo. El origen mallorquin de buena parte de la comunidad sefardi argelina nos trae rápidamente el recuerdo de que esta ciudad fue durante los ùltimos anos de la Edad Media y durante toda la Edad Moderna la gran almoneda de caudvos del Mediterrâneo, junto a Tûnez, Livorno y Marsella, lo que nos explicaria que en la misma época de la expulsion los antiguos mallorquines estuvieran pujando por el rescate de 50 correligionarios apresados en Sevilla en 1499. La conclusion a la que podemos llegar es que los sefardies, junto con los otros grupos humanos que se podrian referir si tuviéramos un tiempo mayor, constituyen este peculiar m u n d o mediterrâneo de los siglos XVI y XVII, tan irrepetible y atractivo como el que existia en Se farad antes del aumento de la intransigencia religiosa de las autoridades cristianas. Citando un texto de Diego de Haedo: El tercer género y manera de vecinos o habitadores de Argel son judios, de los cuales hay très castas: unos, que proceden de los judios de Espana; otros de las islas de Mallorca, Francia y de Italia, y otros que son naturales de la tierra de Africa; y viven todos de algûn modo de mercancia, porque muchos tienen botica de mercen'a en que venden toda suerte de menudencias, y otros son buhoneros, vendiendo por las calles lo mesmo en cestas y cajas que traen colgando del brazo, y dando voces quién quiere mercar, otros que labran el coral, otros venden aceite y jabôn por menudo y muchos que compran las ropas y otras cosas que los corsarios traen robadas y las vuelven a vender a mercaderes cristianos, en que hacen buena ganancia; y otros que van y vienen con mercaderias de Tripoli, Gelves, Tûnez, Bona, Constantina, Orân, Tremecén, Tetuán, Fez, Marruecos y también de Constantinople, y, particularmente, los más de los plateros de Argel son judios.1 Esta sociedad de frontera, como es la conformada en todas las ciudades referidas, permite su avecindamiento sin despertar los recelos por sus prácticas religiosas en un m u n d o donde la divergencia de credos, origenes y circunstancias vitales era la moneda más corriente (y basta repasar el origen de la mayor parte de sus gobernante o el de los arraeces o capitanes de galera dedicados al corso, incluidos algunos de anterior origen mosaico que reciben el apodo de "el judio"); también es un lugar ideal para que se labren un futuro nuevo gentes desheredadas por la fortuna en "las indias del turco", como consideran los espafioles a las ciudades corsarias mediterráneas. La instauraciôn masiva de los judios dentro de las tierras dominadas por los otomanos tampoco nos puede hacer olvidar que su instalaciôn tiene también enormes problemas, unos fiscales, al integrarse dentro de un estatuto especial como es el marcado por el Millet, y otros derivados de las prácticas vitales cotidianas de sus nuevos soberanos y de sus soldados de élite (jenizaros y leventes que no están libres de realizar algaradas contra la minoria en momentos de inestabilidad politica en el gobierno de la ciudad y de la propia capital del Imperio). El testimonio de los cautivos cristianos también da a entender que su vida cotidiana no era precisamente idilica:

Haedo, D. de 1927. Topografia e Historia General de Argel. Madrid, 111-112.

Sírvense muchos de cristianos cautivos que compran; generalmente, los judios tratan bien a los christianos sus esclavos, mas no los que de judios se hacen moros, porque éstos son peores que los mesmos moros y turcos, y la causa es porque el judio, siendo judio, teme que el cristiano su cautivo se queje de él, siendo maltratado, al Rey, y, por tanto, se lo tome; pero el que ya es hecho m o r o n o teme esto, porque el Rey no se lo tomarà, y porque el odio que tiene al cristiano es doblado, porque le aborrece c o m o m o r o y c o m o judio, o, por mejor decir, el odio que le tiene siendo judio le puede ejecutar más libremente siendo moro, tanto más lo muestra y lo ejecuta con el mal tratamiento que le hace. 2

De cualquier manera, las especiales caracteristicas de esta sociedad de frontera, como la de las derras que en la actualidad conforman el reino de Marruecos, son un lugar ideal para crear una vida nueva sin los problemas que dene integrarse en Estados de dpo autoritario. El mediterrâneo occidental no fue capaz de generar en estos dos siglos un sistema de poder, ni siquiera de fronteras, estables, por lo que cada ciudad llevaba una vida casi independiente. Cuando nos referimos a las repûblicas berberiscas de Argel ο Túnez, repûblicas que ocupan los limites de los actuales países, estamos hablando de un m u n d o donde el poder efecdvo de los gobernadores se diluye segûn nos vamos alejando de las murallas de las ciudades donde están sus alcàzares. Por referir solo un ejemplo, recaudar los impuestos que deben dar anualmente las tribus y aduares confederados a los Beylerbelik supone organizar verdaderas expediciones militates, a semejanza de campanas bélicas, por la negadva a entregar dinero a las supuestos dominadores del territorio. Dentro de este m u n d o tan alejado de la evolution que está teniendo Europa occidental, la existencia de grupos urbanos dedicados a acdvidades comerciales y que practican otra religion no era en ningûn m o m e n t o sospechoso ni incômodo a un poder que no tenia los mismos atributos que los de los paises occidentales. El propio sistema econômico que dépara la guerra continua en el Mediterrâneo occidental ofrece enormes posibilidades de enriquecimiento a las comunidades alli asentadas. E n las vidas de los rescatadores de cautivos y alfaqueques es frecuente encontrar referencias a judios sefardies que sirven de intérpretes e intermediarios con las autoridades musulmanas, bien sean otomanas ο sa'adies, para la consecution de los rescates, como es el caso de Jacon Achuela y Samuel Pimienta en Salé, Abraham Tubi en Fez ο Ishaq ben Frim ben Ibrahim en Tetuán. E n Argel y Tûnez, por contra, donde el sistema de los rescates estaba más evolucionado y reglamentado, los judios desaparecen de estos menesteres, pero se convierten en los redistribuidores de las mercancias del corso, a la vez que en socios capitalistas de algunas de las empresas de corso ο aposentadores de cautivos: en Argel, ... sali yo un dia a lavar la ropa y tuve lugar de ir a hablar a dos redentores de la orden de la Santisima Trinidad, que el uno se llamaba fray Juan del Águi1a y el otro fray Juan Sánchez, que posaban en casa de un judio que se llamaba Abrahân, y tenia dos hijas muy hermosas, la una se llamaba

2

Ibid., 114.

Maria y la otra Ana, y hablaban castellano tan claro q u e y o hacia cuenta que estaba e n T o l e d o . 3

Uno de los episodios más interesantes de este mundo, aunque por desgracia no demasiado estudiado, es el papel de espias y personas que pasan information a los complejos sistemas de espionaje que se desarrollan a lo largo de todo el Mediterrâneo. Cansinos y Saportas desde Orân, asi como otros muchos nombres desde las ciudades magrebies y otomanas más importantes, son algunos de los que van creando el género de los "avisos de Levante," sistema de comunicaciôn por el que se conoce los pormenores de la vida de ambas riberas a lo largo de toda la Edad Moderna. La apariciôn de judios dentro del grupo de los informadores nos vuelve a permidr définir el m u n d o de estas aguas como una sociedad mixta en la que los elementos no están estrictamente fijados. Dentro de los informantes de los espafioles se encuentran desde altos dignatarios de la corte Imperial hasta simples musulmanes que por unas pocas monedas filtran informes sobre el numéro de navios aprestados para las expediciones corsarias o el nombre de caudvos para facilitar un posible rescate. E n alguna medida estamos definiendo un m u n d o en formation, definition que se contrapone abiertamente con el supuesto monolirismo de civilizaciones y de poderes polidcos con el que suele calificar este espacio la historiografia traditional. Los sefardies se acomodan perfectamente al mismo, tanto desde el lado sa'adi c o m o del otomano o el mameluco, e incluso del espanol y portugués como ha estudiado la Dra. Acero, ya que sirven para llenar el hueco de sectores afin no formados en este espacio que está sometido a una dinámica impuesta por los condnuos enfrentamientos armados y por las especiales circunstancias que se desarrollan en el mismo. Si comparamos la evolution del mundo mediterrâneo bajo la ôrbita islâmica con la que se da en su homônimo europeo crisdano, se aprecia perfectamente que estamos describiendo un m u n d o someddo a otros ritmos y dinámicas, desde la misma guerra (ya que siempre que se intenta exportar las nuevas maneras imperantes en Occidente se saldan las condendas con enormes fracasos), hasta algunos sistemas econômicos, c o m o el corso. La rápida decadencia, segûn unas corrientes historiogrâficas, o el abandono de este mar c o m o eje central de las preocupaciones de los dos Imperios, provoca un cierto anquilosamiento de las maneras, formas y, por supuesto, de las sociedades mediterráneas. En el caso en concreto del Imperio O t o m a n o la larga decadencia en la que entra a partir de 1580 se traduce en un mantenimiento casi inmutable de las formas de vida y de la estructura del Estado que permite que no evolucionen demasiado los sistemas polidcos y sociales hasta que, entrado el siglo XIX, se conviertan sus territorios en el lugar donde se diriman las apetencias de las potencias europeas, lo que supondrà un cambio cualitauvo en la propia vida de los sefardies. Segûn la vision que acabamos de exponer, el grupo de los expulsados se acomodô perfectamente al mundo de la frontera y de una serie de Estados, Diego Galân, Cautiverio y trabajos de ..., natural de Consuegra y vecino de Toledo. Ed. M. A. Bunes. Toledo, en prensa, 49.

repûblicas y principados que estaban necesitados de hacerse con grupos que ocuparan posiciones intermedias entre la élite dirigente y el resto de la sociedad. E n ambos lugares estamos resenando sociedades abiertas, bien porque sean nûcleos en formation ο porque el linaje y el origen no marque tan decisivamente la vida y la fortuna de los individuos c o m o en Occidente. Por todas estas razones los expulsados de la peninsula Ibérica, ya sean sefardies ο andalusies, tuvieron un perfecto encaje dentro de sus estructuras. La siguiente Deportation de una minoria de los territorios de Hispania, la de los moriscos de 1609-1614, se realizô sobre otros parâmetros completamente diferentes por lo que tuvo unas consecuencias completamente distintas para las personas que la tuvieron que sufrir. Cuando llegaron a las tierras del Magreb no fueron acogidos con las manos abiertas, con la exception de Túnez (debido a cuestiones politicas y religiosas), y su criptoislamismo y creencias son puestos bajo sospecha por las autoridades. El Mediterrâneo del siglo XVI era un m u n d o más abierto, tanto desde el punto de vista econômico como desde el creencial y social, para que se consintiera el avecindamiento de los grupos sefardies y se les permitiera ascender social y culturalmente. Toda esta serie de cuestiones permitiô otro SIGLO DE ORO de la cultura hispanojudia, aunque ahora escrita en otras fronteras, por ser sociedades en proceso de formation y conformation. Pero cuando estas circunstancias cambiaron se comenzarian a cerrar hacia situaciones c o m o las descritas hasta el m o m e n t o présente. Eso explicaria que hacia 1640 el anquilosamiento de las sociedades mediterráneas y las nuevas injerencias de los occidentales en este espacio trastocaran algunas de sus caracterîsdcas, de lo que puede ser un buen ejemplo la expulsion de Cansinos y Saportas de Orân.

C U E N T O ESPANOL, CUENTO SEFARDI PASEO POR ENTRE DOS M U N D O S JULIO CAMARENA Madrid, Spain

Hace ya algo más de una década, en un libro divulgadvo sobre los avatares y la cultura de las comunidades sefardies en el exilio, la profesora Diaz-Mas daba en breves pinceladas algunas de las caracterîsdcas de su repertorio cuendsdco. Asi, la escasez de cuentos de animales, el realce del valor ingenio como medio de solucionar ardides y dilemas y la reafirmaciôn de los valores del grupo frente al mundo circundante mediante el pjanteamiento frecuente de la confrontaciôn judîo/no judio, serîan para ella lo más destacable de su repertorio (Diaz-Mas 1986: 147 ss.). N o andaba muy descaminada la profesora Diaz-Mas. Conocedora de la tradiciôn oral—mayormente, en el campo del romancero—y del mundo sefardi, disponia de puntos de apoyo fiables en que apoyarse: por lo que hace al mundo judio, una razonable canddad de narraciones orales publicadas, asi como inventarios del material inédito de los Israel Folktale Archives llevados a cabo por Heda Jason (1965 y 1975) y Noy-Schnitzler (1967-80); mientras que de fuera de dicho àmbito tenia a su alcance las colecciones espanolas publicadas, asi como los catâlogos internacionales al uso, entre los que cabe suponer conociese el general de Aarne-Thompson (1961) y el espanol de Boggs (1930), que, aunque algo anriguo ya, permite hacerse una buena idea del cuento espanol en castellano. Sea como fuere, sus observaciones no pudieron ser más correctas. Hoy la situation es notoriamente mejor: disponemos de indices del cuento sefardi (Haboucha 1992) y espanol (Camarena-Chevalier 1995-97), confeccionados ambos en concordancia con el general de Aarne-Thompson, lo cual nos posibilita comparaciones desde bases homogéneas y actualizadas.

"Y desde aquel dia quedaron mudas todas las bestias " Y una de las primeras caracteristicas que se desprenden del indice de Haboucha, expuestas en su Introduction, vienen a confirmar lo senalado por Diaz-Mas: la tradiciôn oral judeo-espaiiola es llamativamente parca en cuentos de animales (Haboucha 1992: XXIV). Como si de una consecuencia de la expulsion del Jardin del Edén—segûn el Libro de los ]ubileos1—se tratara, se podria decir que los animaies sefardies, contrariamente a los de la tradiciôn fabulîsrica românica ο la árabe, tanto oral como escrita, están privados del habla. Salvo excepciones, claro. La profesora norteamericana lo traduce a porcentajes: el género supone un 3,75% de la totalidad del corpus. " E n aquel dia quedaron mudas las bocas de todas las besdas, animales, pâjaros, sabandijas y reptiles, pues hablaban todos, unos con otros, en un mismo lenguaje e idioma" (Jub 3,28).

Es una forma de expresarlo. Otra ôpdca séria compararlo con repertorios prôximos. Puesto que la que aqui se ha elegido es la que expresa el dtulo del trabajo, si se confeccionara una tabla comparativa entre la variedad de argumentos que ofrecen las cuendsdcas espanola y sefardi de animales y dejando aparte las propuestas de nuevo cuno—susceptibles de responder a criterios no compartidos— se podria decir que mientras la tradiciôn oral espanola ha puesto en labios de los animales más de centenar y medio de argumentos, los de las comunidades sefardies no llegan a la tercera parte. jA qué se debe tal desproporciôn? D a n d o por sentada la desigualdad en el numéro de colecciones y textos con los que se cuenta, 2 que necesariamente ha de repercutir en la diversidad de las tipologias repertoriadas, no se puede obviar que los porcentajes internos que se desprenden de los catâlogos espanol (Boggs 1930) e italiano (Cirese-Serafini 1975)—los más acabados de entre los prôximos—reservan a los cuentos de animales más de un 11% de las tramas: muy superior por tanto al que observara Haboucha en el repertorio sefardi. Y aqui habria que acudir a explicaciones de indole sociolôgico. E n efecto; las colecciones espafiolas han sido generalmente reunidas en zonas rurales, cuyos habitantes están en contacto con la naturaleza de forma inmediata. El campo asi, con sus escenarios y sus animales, está permanentemente présente en la vida de la colectividad, en sus trabajos y ocios. E n estas condiciones es fâcil "visualizar" a los protagonistas de un cuento de animales y saber de antemano qué papel le corresponde a cada cual en las confrontaciones que le confieren tension: astuto/tonto, râpido/lento... y, sobre todo, débil/fuerte. N o es éste el m u n d o manifiesto para los miembros de las comunidades sefardies, mayoritariamente urbanas, retraidas en ghettos y agrupadas en corralas (Molho 1950: 147 ss.), con una estratificaciôn social y una actividad ocupacional propias de sociedades burguesas (Nehama 1978: VI, 205 ss.). Pero tal disparidad no puede ocultar preciosos paralelismos que arrojan luz sobre determinadas manifestaciones orales, a la vez que permiten continuar viendo algunos rasgos llamativos más de los respectivos repertorios.

"Sanan cuchilladas, mas no malas palabras " Asi dice un refrán recientemente registrado en un valle norteno espanol (Fernández Acebo 1992: 58). E n realidad, se trata de un dicho atestiguado desde antiguo en la Peninsula Ibérica que ha permanecido bastante estable a lo largo de los siglos. "Sanan las cuchilladas y no las malas palabras," se puede leer en un refranero reunido por el Marqués de Santülana allà por la mitad del siglo XV (Lopez de Mendoza 1995: 654). Y de entonces acá ha aparecido de tanto en tanto, siempre en una formulation bastante estable: tal ocurre en el siglo XVI (Núíìez [Prometeo]: 181)—con la misma formula que en la tradiciôn oral moderna—en el XVII (Correas 1967: 271), XIX (Fernán Caballero 1912: 328 y 371)

Las colecciones sefardies mas numerosas, por ejemplo, las de Larrea 1952-53 y Koen-Sarano 1986, reûnen poco mas de centenar y medio de textos cada una, muy lejos de las clâsicas vascas, gallegas, espanolas en castellano o catalanas.

y, si se quiere—aunque con una formula ya algo distinta—también en el XX (Rodriguez Marin 1930: 197b). Pues bien; a pesar de que la locution es clara en su alcance y significado, en las comunidades sefardies 3 se narra un cuento que le da al refrán pleno sentido. Narra la historia de la amistad entre un leôn (u oso), y un hombre que, después de que es favorecido por aquél, se queja (él ο su mujer) de su mal olor de boca (o de lo sucio que es). Al sentirse ofendido, el animal le pide que lo hiera fisicamente, aclarando que esas heridas pueden curar, pero que las heridas de palabra es imposible que cierren (Armistead-Haboucha-Silverman 1982: 97 ss.; y Attias 1976: 19). El ejemplo comentado nos pone en la pista de un aspecto frecuente en los cuentos de animales sefardies. N o se trataba, como se ha visto, de un relato agonal, de enfrentamiento entre dos protagonistas, la estructura más frecuente en la narrativa oral, sino de un cuento explicativo de una máxima prudential. Lo mismo, aunque con no tan evidente provecho, que "La rapoza" de KoenSarano, quien, sorprendida en una vina, tras intentar en un primer momento hacerse la muerta y comoquiera que tal actitud, lejos de preservarla, da lugar e que vaya siendo mutilada poco a poco por los transeúntes, termina desistiendo de sus propôsitos iniciales concluyendo que "sin cola y sin dientes se puede vivir, pero sin cuero no" (Koen-Sarano 1986: 225). Bien sé que la aplicabilidad de esta máxima es relativa. (fDônde aparece? En cuanto a Espana, por lo que sé, únicamente en la literatura escrita: en concreto, la de ejemplos profanos. Asi, el Libro de buen amor (1330) pone en labios de dofia Garoza, la monja devota que, siendo tentada por la vieja Trotaconventos a abandonar la austeridad conventual y abrirse a los placeres del mundo, replica que eso séria como exponerse a que le ocurra lo que a la protagonista del "Enxiemplo de la raposa que comié las gallinas en la aldea," desarrollândolo a renglôn seguido (Hita 1967: 1410 ss.). Pocos anos después, el infante don Juan Manuel se lo haria contar a Patronio en el ejemplo XXIX de El Conde Lucanor (1335), "De lo que contesciô á un raposo que se echô en la calle et se fizo muerto," que previene de los peligros de soportar atropellos con tal de no concitar la inquina de los poderosos. Es decir, el cuento en cuesdôn ο no ha llegado a las capas rurales espanolas ο no ha sido considerado lo suficientemente interesante como para ser transmitido. Eso, aún contando con que figura en el indice de cuentos sefardies (Haboucha 1992: **184) y en los de motivos folklôricos (Thompson 1955-58: J351.2; y Keller 1949: J351.2). Lo mismo, pues, que el anterior.

De récompensas y castigos E n linea con lo anterior, el cuento religioso, ejemplarizante y pedagôgico, validatorio de creencias comûnmente compartidas ο execradas, adquiere una gran importancia en las colecciones sefardies. Tal preeminencia viene dada, más que

Aunque también en la rumana (Schurellus 1928: 159 IV*), bàltica (Balys 1936: *161) e india (Thompson-Balys 1958: W185.6).

p o r la variedad de tramas, p o r la reiteration de relatos generalmente construidos en t o m o a un m i s m o esquema: la recompensa de los justos o / y el castigo de los impios; siempre en t o n o grave y sin concesiones. Las novedades propuestas p o r H a b o u c h a responden mayoritariamente a él. C o n ser éste un m o d e l o bien conocido en los paises cristianos, n o es el unico recurso de ensenanza en sus cuentos pedagôgicos. La diferencia n o es tanto de personajes sagrados (que también) c o m o del papel que se les hace jugar. E n el repertorio sefardi se echa en falta el tratamiento dual de figuras c o m o la de Jesucristo y San P e d r o — q u e tanto juego dan en la cuendstica estableciendo jocosos contrastes entre los enfoques prosaico y espiritual del m u n d o , justificando lo paradôjico o d a n d o una explication chusca a determinadas caracteristicas de objetos, animales y plantas—o el carácter agonal de Dios y el Diablo, generador ficticio de parejas de elementos disimiles, c o m o oveja-cabra, perro-lobo, buey-caracol, etc. E n otras palabras, lo que se echa de m e n o s es la trivializaciôn de los personajes sagrados, con el consiguiente cambio de lo grave a lo jocoso. E n lugar de eso, la c o n f r o n t a t i o n más frecuente, entre el bien y el mal, personificado en lo judio y n o judio, c o m o senalara la profesora Diaz-Mas, da pie a la intervention de la figura del rabino—consideration que n o tiene correspondencia en la cuendstica espanola, en d o n d e el intermediario entre Dios y los hombres, el sacerdote, guardián de la doctrina, es percha de casi todos los vicios, especialmente del de la lujuria, y objeto de las burlas más variadas—asi c o m o de personajes biblicos—Salomon, David, Moisés, el profeta Elias, etc.—y personalidades histôricas judias, que vienen a ayudar al justo con su sabiduria o la realizaciôn de algün milagro. Aunque, bien mirado, el concepto de b u e n o / m a l o se puede prestar a equivocos. E n realidad, habria que decir que lo que se sanciona es lo correct o / i n c o r r e c t o , incluyendo en ello ciertos tabues y prácticas sociales. Un ejemplo servirá para explicarlo. E n t r e los textos que nos dejô Wagner (1914: 11) hay uno, " E l sarnudo," que cuenta c o m o una mujer estornuda cuando está cociendo en el h o r n o ; se maldice — " Q u i e n estornuda en el h o r n o merece que se la lleven"— aparece u n jinn negro y se la lleva a un m u n d o de estornudos, d o n d e es juzgada p o r tan inexplicablemente horrenda acciôn... La continuation n o es relevante en estos m o mentos: aduce que el e s t o r n u d o es involuntario, p o r lo que es premiada, lo contrario de lo que le ocurre a una envidiosa vecina que trata de imitarla. La extrana narraciôn, ausente de los catâlogos internacionales y conocida en el m u n d o sefardi p o r apenas très versiones (Haboucha 1992: **751 C), adquiere pleno sentido si se la compara con las registradas en el àmbito espanol (Camarena-Chevalier 1995: [729A]): en las dos conocidas hasta ahora la ventosidad que expele la atribulada mujer es un vulgar p e d o — " t r e m e n d a sonoridad," dice eufemistica pero inequivocamente Valera (1896: 26). Q u e se haya sustituido tan tabuada manifestation p o r otra más aceptada socialmente n o résulta extrano. Se hace al menos desde el siglo XI, c o m o m e indica la doctora Elena Romero, del " D e p a r t a m e n t o Arias M o n t a n o " del CSIC, a pro-

pôsito de la Semblantes de Ben-Sirá,4 de cuyo texto está preparando en la actualidad una edition.

A modo de conclusion A pesar de que no hemos hecho más que asomarnos a la cuesdôn—faltan todavia por valorar aspectos tan llamativos, por ejemplo, como la ausencia de cuentos de formula (en los que lo narrativo deja paso al juego) en las colecciones judeo-espanolas—de lo visto se aprecia que, junto a claras peculiaridades en cuanto a tramas y mensajes de los respecdvos repertorios—consecuencia de concepciones religiosas diferenciadas y de impregnaciones culturales debidas al contacto con otros pueblos mediterrâneos—existe un grupo de manifestaciones narradvas comparddas entendibles solo en comûn y que ûnicamente se explican por una historia también comûn..., lo mismo, al fin y al cabo, que la lengua que les ha servido de vehiculo.

Bibliografia citada Aarne, A. and T h o m p s o n , S. 1961. The Types of the Folktale. Helsinki: Academia Sciendarum Fennica. Arcipreste de Hita 1967. Libro de buen amor. Madrid: Gredos. Armistead, S., Haboucha, R. and Silverman, J. H. 1982. "Words Worse Than Wounds: A Judeo-Spanish Version of a Near Eastern Folktale." Fabula 23, 1 - 2 , 95—98.

Attias, M. 1976. N oyat ha-^ahav (The Golden Feather. Twenty Folktales Narrated by Greek Jews). Haifa: IFA.

Balys, J. 1936. Lietuvi Pasakojamosios Tautosakos Motyv Katalogas (Morif-Index of Lithuanian Narrative Folk-Lore). Kaunas: Lietuvi Tautosakos Archyvo Leidinys. Boggs, R. S. 1930. Index of Spanish Folktales. Helsinki: Academia Scientiarum Fennica.

Camarena, J. y Chevalier, M. 1995-97. Catâlogo tipolôgico del cuento folklorico espanol. 2 vols. Madrid: Gredos. Cirese, A. M. e Serafini, L. 1975. Tradi^oni orali non cantate. Roma: Discoteca di Stato.

Correas, G. 1627. Vocabulario de refranes y frases proverbiales. Bordeaux: Bibl. de l'École des Hautes Etudes Hispaniques.

Diaz-Mas, P. 1986. Los sefardies. Historia, lenguay cultura. Barcelona: Riopiedras. Fernán Caballero 1912. El refranero de las gentes del campo, recogido en los pueblos de Andaluaa. Madrid: Revista de Archivos.

Fernández Acebo, V. et al. 1992. Dichosy refranes de uso comûn en los volles del alto Pas y del Miera. Vega de Pas: A.C.C. Estudios Pasiegos.

Por su interés y problemâtica accesibilidad, recojo aqui el texto que esta preparando la doctora Romero, cuya amabilidad agradezco: "La enfermedad de la hija de Nabucodonosor" (relato A.6.f) dice asi: Pasado el dempo le dijo el rey [a Ben-Sirá): - T e n g o una hija que estornuda mil veces cada dia." Para aclarar a condnuaciôn las "Ventajas de los estornudos" (A.6.g): "Al p u n t o se levantô [el rey] y le besô [a Ben-Sirá], y empezando a hacerle preguntas, le dijo: - j P a r a qué se crearon los estornudos? —Si no fuera por los estornudos, el hombre se ensudaria sus vestidos, pues cuando sabe el hombre que le vienen tos estornudos, se va a hacer sus necesidades, no vaya a ser que tenga que pasar e! bochorno de quedar con tos vestidos emporcados.

H a b o u c h a , R. 1992. Types and Motifs of the Judeo-Spanish Folktales. N e w Y o r k - L o n d o n : Garland Publishing. J a s o n , H. 1965. "Types of J e w i s h — O r i e n t a l Oral Tales." Tabula 7 , 1 1 5 - 2 2 4 . , 1975, Types of Oral Tales in Israel. Jerusalem: I E S Studies. D o n J u a n Manuel 1977. El Conde Eucanor. Madrid: Castalia. Keller, J. S. 1949. Motif-Index of Mediaeval Spanish Exempla. Knoxville: T h e University o f Tennessee Press. Koen-Sarano, M. 1986. Kuentos del Folk/or de la Famiya Ojudeo-Espanyola. Jerusalem: Kana. Larrea, A. 1952-53. Cuentospopuläres de losjudios del norte de Marruecos. 2 vol. Tetuán: Editora Marroqui. Lopez de Mendoza, I. 1995. Refranes que di?en las viejas tras elfuego. Kassel: Reichenberger. Molho, M. 1950. Literatura sefardita de Oriente. Madrid-Barcelona: CSIC. N e h a m a , J. 1978. Histoire des Israélites de Salonique. V I - V I I . Thessalonique: C o m m u n a u t é Israélite. N o y , D . and Schnitzler, O . 1967-80. "Type-Index of Israel Folktale Archives." T E M 1966-79. Haifa-Jerusalem: Ethnological M u s e u m and Folklore Archives-The Hebrew University. N u n e z , H . [Prometeo], Refranes compilados. Valencia: Prometeo. Rodriguez Marin, F. 1930. Doce mil seiscientos refranes mas. Madrid: RABM. Schurellus, A. 1928. Verzeichnis der rumänischen Märchen und Märebenvarianten. Helsinki: Academia Seien darum Fennica. T h o m p s o n , S. 1955-58. Motif-Index of Folk Literature. 6 vol. Copenhagen-Bloomington: Indiana University Press. T h o m p s o n , S. and Balys, J. 1958. The Oral Tales of India. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Valera, 1896. Cuentos y chascarrillos andaluces tornados de la boca del vulgo. Madrid: F e r n a n d o Fe. Wagner, M. L. 1914. Beiträge zur Kenntnis des Juden-spanischen in Konstantinopel. Wien: Alfred Holder.

E L ROL DE LA MUJER JUDÎA EN LA TRANSMISIÔN DE LA CULTURA SEFARDI, SIGLOS XVI Y XVII ESTHER C O H E N CIDICSEF, Buenos Aires, Argentina

Introduction A lo largo de su historia, el pueblo judio conociô épocas de esplendor y épocas de persecuciones, expulsiones, exilios y diàsporas hasta el siglo XX. Una de las expulsiones más traumáticas fue sin duda la de los judios de la Peninsula Ibérica en 1492. Después de siglos de asentamiento e intercambio con las culturas cristiana y musulmana, a partir del siglo XIV se initia una crisis que desemboca en el Edicto de Expulsion de los Reyes Catôlicos y obliga a los judios a converrirse, ο a salir de los territorios de la Corona Espanola. Se inicia asi un proceso doloroso de búsqueda de asentamientos en la cuenca del Mediterrâneo y en el norte de Europa. Los judios de Sefarad llevan su cultura, los Libros Sagrados, su memoria, su fe y su armoniosa lengua, que conservan c o m o estructura viviente, durante más de quinientos aiios, enriqueciéndola. E n este proceso de conservation y transmisiôn de una cultura milenaria, la mujer sefardi cumple un roi fundamental a través de dos verdentes: a) subjetiva, teniendo a la lengua c o m o hilo conductor y b) objetiva, a través de las conductas manifiestas, observancia de ceremonias, rituales, m o d o s de celebration del rico folklore judio sefardi para cada acontecimiento fundamental de la vida. Hoy las ciencias psicolôgico-sociales han estudiado los mecanismos de interacciôn entre el nino y su entorno. El desarrollo del nino está inmerso en el contexto de las relaciones sociales, los instrumentas y las prácticas socio culturales. Se plantea el concepto de "participation guiada;" la guia y la participation de la madré en actividades culturalmente valiosas permite el desarrollo del pensamiento. Puede ser explicita ο implicita. Permite el pasaje de la intersubjetividad a la intrasubjetividad, ο sea, asumir e identificarse con los valores de la tradiciôn judia.

Vertiente subjetiva El desarrollo cognitivo en el contexto sociocultural C o m o humanos, durante un periodo de pocos anos después de nacer, progresamos hasta alcanzar una extraordinaria habilidad para comunicarnos por medio del lenguaje, utilizar e inventar instrumentas de solution de problemas, comprometernos en acciones de cooperation con otros, aprovecharnos de la experiencia y de las invenciones de nuestros antepasados, ensenar y aprender de los demás y planificar lejanos acontecimientos futuros. Los aprendizajes se realizan en situaciones sociales que los deftnen. Se plantea el concepto de participation guiada para sugerir que tanto la guia, ο persona

que conduce al nino, como la participation de éste en actividades culturalmente valiosas, son esenciales para poder considerar al nino como un aprendiz del pensamiento. Los procesos de participation guiada se basan en la intersubjetividad: los ninos comparten los centros de interés y los objetivos con companeros más hábiles y con los iguales que los estimulan a explorar. Gracias a esta participation guiada los nifios adquieren una comprensiôn y una destreza cada vez mayores para hacer frente a los problemas de su comunidad. N o résulta dificil pensar la importancia en este contexto, de las madrés judias, para conservar y transmitir a través del lenguaje las pautas culturales judias en el exilio. C o m o lo ha estudiado Vygotsky en nuestro siglo, desde la perspectiva socio histôrica, la unidad básica de anâlisis y$1 no es el individuo, sino la acrividad socio—cultural en cuanto que implica la participation activa de las personas en costumbres establecidas socialmente. Lo que el nino interioriza es lo que previamente ha realizado en el contexto social en la llamada "zona de desarrollo proximo." La comunicaciôn que se da desde el initio puede ser verbal y no verbal. Además de la information incluida en el tono emocional de la comunicaciôn, el uso de palabras especificas en un sistema lingûisdco aporta al nino significados y aspectos especificos de su cultura especialmente importantes. "La palabra es la manifestation más directa de la naturaleza histôrica de la conciencia humana." Esto cobra relevancia si pensamos que uno de los elementos culturales importantes que los judios sefardies se llevaron de Espana fue su lengua, que no solo mantuvieron en la Diàspora dentro de la Diàspora, sino que enriquecieron con aportes de las distintas regiones donde se pudieron asentar. La conservation de ese patrimonio cultural conducido en los hogares por la intervention de las madrés judias no fue fâcil. Los sefardies se encontraban con su bagaje cultural (lengua, religion, usos y costumbres) en contacto con otras culturas diferentes cuando no hostiles, que lo obligaban a emigrar a otras regiones cuando cesaban la protecciôn de leyes que les permidan ejercer sus actividades y sobre todo, servir de nexo comercial con Oriente desde Europa, canalizando además sobre todo en el siglo XVI y XVII las riquezas de las nuevas tierras conquistadas de América. E n ese proceso de transmisiôn cultural, el mantener la lengua les permitiô conservar su idenddad como judios y sefarditas. La palabra en el lenguaje es la mitad de algo más. Llega a ser de uno mismo cuando el que habla la expresa con su propia intenciôn, su propio acento; es decir cuando se apropia de la palabra adaptândola a su propia intenciôn expresiva y semántica. Antes del m o m e n t o de la apropiaciôn, la palabra no existe en un lenguaje impersonal y neutro, sino que existe en boca de otras personas, en los contextos de otros, que sirven para comunicar las intenciones de los dem i s ; es desde aqui desde donde uno debe tomar la palabra y hacerla propia.

(Bakhtin, The Oialogical Imagination) Las ideas externas se importan a un piano interno como producto natural de la participation en el pensamiento conjunto.

Los nifios entran en el m u n d o inmersos en un sistema interpersonal que implica a sus cuidadores, madré, padre, abuelos, dentro de una familia, y a otras personas que ya denen contacto con las instituciones y tecnologias sociales. A través de la participation guiada de los demás, los nifios 11egan a entender y participar en las acdvidades de su cultura que exigen determinadas habilidades y destrezas. Desde la más temprana infancia, los ninos buscan y comparten el significado con sus cuidadores y otros companeros. Los seres humanos somos seres sociales que vivimos en un mar social. El intercambio humano es necesario para la supervivencia de los recién nacidos y de la especie. Los intercambios sociales son ellos mismos el medio para que las acdvidades sociales se transformen y los individuos los udlicen de acuerdo con su propia comprensiôn y forma de pardcipaciôn. El proceso de interiorizaciôn no es la simple transferencia de una acdvidad externa a un piano de la conciencia interno y preexistente; es el proceso en el que dicho piano interno se forma. Al igual que el significado de una conversaciôn depende tanto de la informaciôn del hablante como de la interpretaciôn del que escucha, el proceso de pardcipaciôn guiada depende de la estructura que proporciona la acdvidad social y de la apropiaciôn que hace cada individuo. De ahi la importancia de la madré ο persona que interactúa con el nino para mantener, preservar y transmitir toda una cultura judia sefardi a través de la lengua en las dificiles condiciones del exilio y con el dolor del desarraigo.

Vertiente objetiva El desarrollo y el proceso de socialization Cuando los judios sefardies se vieron obligados a abandonar Espana primero y luego Portugal, llevaron con ellos las formas de la organizaciôn social que habian desarrollado para preservar y mantener la cultura y la idenddad judia a lo largo de siglos. Es decir, la vida comunitaria organizada alrededor de la sinagoga, la Casa de estudios, el cementerio y la organizaciôn dpica de las aljamas con sus Asambleas, Consejo, Secretarios y la presencia de autoridades juridico-religiosas. La vida familiar se estructuraba alrededor del cortijo, donde convivian varios miembros de una familia. Es alli donde el proceso de socialization se llevaba a cabo y las mujeres judias, al continuât con el rico folklore que ritualizaba las fiestas sagradas judias y los principales acontecimientos de la vida, desempeiiaron un roi fundamental. El nino cuando nace es ya miembro de un grupo social. Este grupo, por su propia supervivencia, satisface sus necesidades y le transmite la cultura acumulada. Esta transmisiôn cultural implica valores, normas, costumbres, asignaciôn de roles, ensenanza del lenguaje, destrezas, contenidos escolares y se lleva a cabo a través de determinados agentes sociales. Entre éstos, la madré es esencial; asimismo, el padre, los hermanos, otros familiares, companeros, amigos, maestros, Rabinos y otros adultos. También instrumentas, libros, objetos, etc. El proceso de socialization es una interaction entre el nino y su entorno que supone a) procesos mentales: adquisiciôn de conocimientos, b) procesos afecti-

vos: formaciôn de vinculos, y c) procesos de comportamiento: conformation social de la conducta. Si el nino se vincula afectivamente a determinados adultos, si adquiere el conocimiento de lo que la sociedad es y lo que ésta espera de él, y si tiene un comportamiento adecuado a estas expectativas, estará bien socializado. Es indudable que la organization del cortijo favorecia este proceso y cuando se tuvo que instalar la comunidad judia como ghettos en el exilio, c o m o ocurriô en Italia, el relativo aislamiento con respecto al resto de la sociedad tuvo que haber reforzado la socialization de sus miembros, aun cuando, por otro lado, resultaba negativo como estigma. Los Sefardies habian demostrado en Espana como en sus siglos de esplendor mantuvieron contactos e intercambios con las culturas cristiana y musulmana sin perder su propia idenddad como judios. Las conductas observables objetivamente de las costumbres upicas de Sefarad introducian al nino en la cultura a través de mecanismos de imitation, instrucciôn, participation, information, etc. Las figuras de apego, fundamentalmente la madré, favorecen la identificaciôn del nino con ellas y de esta forma la asimilaciôn social a sus valores, normas y conductas. Ceremonias como la celebration de nacimientos, las costumbres ligadas a los casamientos, los ritos de hospitalidad, además de las festividades ligadas a acontecimientos religiosos el Ano Nuevo, el Yom Kipur, Janucá, Pesaj, Shavuot, realizadas y organizadas por mujeres en el hogar ofrecian el marco apropiado para favorecer el proceso de socialization en sus très vertientes: adquisiciôn de conocimientos, formaciôn de vinculos afectivos, y aprendizaje de conductas sociales comunitarias.

El humanismo y el renacimiento: La mujer en el mundo sefardi Ya desde fines del siglo XIII la crisis del m u n d o medieval va dando paso a una nueva mentalidad, más centrada en el hombre mismo de este m u n d o que en los valores de lo trascendente y del más a11á. La confrontation de ideas que trae la influencia de la cultura greco-àrabe sobre la mentalidad medieval desarrolla un espiritu polémico respecto de la cultura precedente. Se va disminuyendo la gravitation de la Teologia c o m o centro del saber en favor de las artes liberales. Esta tarea estuvo a cargo de los humanistas, que se sentian cada vez más atraidos por la luz de los clàsicos griegos y latinos. La cosmovisiôn antropocéntrica reemplaza la vision teocéntrica. Por lo tanto hay: Revalorization de la vida présente. Redescubrimiento del m u n d o natural. Nueva dimension del hombre y de su afán de conocimiento. Una vuelta a la Antigüedad y a los origenes greco-larinos como modelo de cultura.

Retratos de mujeres judias del Renacimiento El Renacimiento, que dio comienzo en Italia, en el siglo XIV, alcanzô su cima cultural e intelectual en los siglos XV y XVI, extendiéndose a través de Europa para abarcar Francia, Alemania, los Países Bajos e Inglaterra. Ese clima cultural es el que encontraron los judios expulsados de Espana y Portugal en la cuenca del Mediterrâneo. En esa época de espiritus liberados e inquisidora osadia en la búsqueda de nuevos horizontes, algunas mujeres se colocaban en pie de igualdad con los hombres en lo referente a nivel social y afán de educaciôn y conocimiento. Entre ellas destacaron algunas mujeres judias, famosas y prominentes en éste periodo. Merecen destacarse las siguientes: Benvenida Abrabanel, sobrina del famoso erudito y estadista don Issac Abrabanel, que intentô en vano detener el Edicto de expulsion. Benvenida, que habia recibido una excelente educaciôn, fue elegida para ensefiar a la hija de don Pedro de Toledo, dona Leonora. En 1541 todos los judios se vieron obligados a dejar Nâpoles y la familia pasô a Ferrara, donde judios y marranos de Espana, Portugai y Europa Central se acogian al refugio ofrecido por la Casa del Este. El hogar de los Abrabanel de Ferrara era un lugar de cita para intelectuales judios y cristianos. Dice Imanuel Aboab de ella que fue una de las matronas mas nobles y fogosas que existieron en Israel desde nuestra dispersion. Era modelo de castidad, de piedad, de prudencia y de valor. Familia Modena: La familia Modena fue una de las más ricas y distinguidas de la comunidad judia. Destacaron; Pomona de Modena, de Ferrara, que compilô poemas litùrgicos y plegarias. Era tan versada en el Talmud que el Rabi David de Imola respondia a sus consultas sobre temas biblicos. Batsheba de Modena, que tenia un intimo conocimiento del idioma hebreo y de los textos rabinicos, especialmente de Maimônides. Su amor por Israel la llevô a Safed, centro de erudiciôn y piedad y alli pasô el resto de su vida. Debora Ascarelli, mujer del présidente de la Sinagoga Catalana de Roma. Distinguida poeta y traductora. Tradujo himnos hebreos a la lengua vernâcula. Sus poemas originales escritos en italiano dan cuenta de una profunda sensibilidad y una fervorosa devociôn por el judaismo. Tradujo una parte de la obra de Moses de Rieti, conocido como el Dante hebreo. Sara Coppio Sullam. Nacida en 1592 en el ghetto de Venecia, leia en hebreo, italiano, espanol, asi como en latin y griego clàsico. Se hizo famosa por sus sonetos y su salon literario fue el punto de cita de literatos judios y cristianos. Esther Kiera. Naciô en la Turquia Otomana en 1530. Pasô su vida al servicio de la corte del Sultân de Constandnopla. Actuô como intermediaria personal y comercial. Tenia contactos diplomâticos con gobiernos extranjeros. Pudo prévenir, gracias a sus contactos, la ejecuciôn de un decreto del Sultân de aniquilar a toda

la poblaciôn judia del Imperio Otomano, historia similar a la de la Reina Esther, cuyo nombre llevaba. Fue ella la que proveyô los fondos para la publication del clàsico hebreo Sefer Yuhasin, del famoso astrôlogo Abraham Zacuto. Gracia Nassi. Naciô en Lisboa como Gracia Benveniste de judios pudientes. La convirtieron en marrana como Beatriz de Luna. Se caso con un marrano de la célébré familia Nassi de Espana, Francisco Mendes. Viuda joven, después de salir de Portugal por la Inquisiciôn, pasa por Amberes y en 1547 llega a Venecia, donde es perseguida. Por la intercesiôn de Solimân el Magnifico es liberada y se instala en Ferrara, donde se muestra abiertamente como judia y le da libre curso a su piedad y fervor. Abraham Usque le dedica su famosa traducciôn de la Biblia al espanol, la Biblia de Ferrara. Doha Gracia decide vivir en Turquia y se instala en Constanunopla para organizar la ayuda de los judios de Europa. Logra detener un funesto decreto del Papa Paulo IV contra los judios de Ancona con la ayuda del Su1tán. Ayuda a instalar un centro de estudios en Tiberiades que se considéra la primera experiencia de sionismo. Fue una mujer del siglo XVI que pardcipô del movimiento del Renacimiento con su efervescencia ardsdca y cultural.

Cripto judias en la América Colonial Jus/a MéndeNaciô en Sevilla en 1576. Sus padres emigraron a Nueva Espana en la década de 1580 junto con un contingente de judios que el gobernador Luis de Carvajal trajo a Tampico. Su madré y su da Beatriz eran judias observantes. Se las consideraba dogmatizantes. Clara Enriquez, madré de Justa, estuvo en el Auto de Fe de 1596, junto con su da Beatriz. El arresto de Justa, llamada "la Hermosa," se produce por su asociaciôn con Luis de Carvajal. Siempre admitiô ser judia y observar las leyes de Moisés. Conocia la Biblia, los Salmos y los Profêtas. Al finalizar su condena se caso con el judio Francisco Nunez. Educô a sus hijos c o m o judios. E n el Gran Auto de Fe del 11 de abril de 1649, entre los 108 cuerpos de judios vivos y muertos, se encontraron los huesos de Justa Méndez y de su hija Isabel, que habian sido desenterrados. Juana EnriqueDurante la primera mitad del Siglo XVII, entre 1605 y 1649, viviô en México una notable judia, Juana Enriquez. Era la mujer de Simon Sevilla, importante y rico judio. C o m o cripto judia fue procesada y durante 7 anos, el tiempo que durô su proceso, permaneciô encerrada en las càrceles de la Inquisiciôn. Aprendiô a leer, escribir y desarrollar su memoria, era necesario memorizar las oraciones, pues no se podia tener libros sobre judaismo. Las madrés transmidan a sus hijas las bendiciones recitadas al encender las vêlas del Shabat y de otros dias sacros. Elias transmidan las costumbres. Las oraciones eran una mezcla de ladino, portugués y espanol. La influencia de Juana fue muy grande en México. Abriô paso al judaismo y ayudô a otros a mantener su fe. C o m o hemos visto, tanto en la dolorosa etapa de la expulsion y el exilio en Europa, como en la dificil y por momentos trágica vida de conversos, marranos y cripto judios en la América Colonial, existieron valientes mujeres que lucharon por conservar, transmitir y mantener la rica tradiciôn Sefardi y su idenddad judia.

Conclusion Los judios expulsados de la Peninsula Ibérica a fines del siglo XV llevaron la cultura sefardi a la cuenca del Mediterrâneo, ejerciendo su influencia en las comunidades judias preexistentes. Cumplieron un roi fundamental desde el punto de vista econômico pues establecieron rutas comerciales entre la cuenca del Mediterrâneo y el Cercano Oriente. La lengua fue el vehiculo comercial y cultural que preserve su idenddad como judios. Dentro de este proceso la mujer sefardi fue el elemento central y agludnador para mantener y transmitir dicha idenddad. Los ejemplos transcriptos dan una idea de la capacidad, preparaciôn y fuerza de algunas mujeres c o m o Benvenida Abrabanel y Gracia Nassi, para preservar la cultura propia. E n la América Colonial y bajo circunstancias adversas, también encontramos ejemplos de mujeres valientes que mantuvieron en su memoria la tradiciôn sefardi como cripto-judias, como las mencionadas Justa Méndez y Juana Enriquez. Esto pone de manifiesto el roi desconocido en este aspecto, hasta hace unas décadas, de la mujer judia en esos siglos. Descubrir esto en el doble senddo de la palabra, que significa tanto conocer como destapar, nos permite valorarlas en toda su pujanza y valenda.

Bibliografia básica Beinart, H. 1992. Los Judios de Espana. Madrid: Mapfre. B ö h m , G . Los Sefardies en los dominios holandeses de América del Sur y Caribe. Ed. Vervuet. Diaz-Mas, P. 1986. Los Sefardies: Historia Lenguay Cultura. Barcelona: Riopiedras. J o h n s o n , P. 1991. Historia de los Judios. Buenos Aires: Javier Vergara. Kedourie, E. 1992. Los Judios de Espana. Barcelona: Crídca. Lewin, B. Los criptojudios en América. Buenos Aires: Amia. Liebman, S. B. 1973. Valens as cripto judias en la América Colonial. Buenos Aires: Congreso J u d i o Latinoamericano. Mechoulan, H. 1993. Los Judios de Espana. Madrid: Trotta. Palacios, J., Marchesi, Α., Coll, C. 1990. Desarrollo Psico/ôgicoy Educaciôn. Madrid: Alianza. Rogoff, Β. 1993. Aprendices del Pensamiento. Buenos Aires: Paidôs. Sefârdica, Hommage a Haim Vidal Sepbiha. Berna: Peter Lang, 1996. Sefárdica Ν . 10,1993. Cripto Judaismo en América Colonial. Buenos Aires: C I D I C S E F . Antologia Sefaradi. 1492-1700. Madrid: V e r b u m , 1997.

L A FIDELIDAD DE LOS J U D Î O S A LOS REYES EN LA HISTORIA

UNIVERSAL JUDAYCA DE MIGUEL DE BARRIOS FERNANDO DÎAZ ESTEBAN Universidad Complutense, Madrid, Spain

La lealtad al Principe se puede considerar como una constante mantenida por los autores judios y judaizantes hispano-portugueses. Esta tesis formô parte también de una especie de Apologia general en favor de los judios que se fue creando en el siglo XVI, se desarrolla en el XVII y culmina en el XVIII, y en la que intervienen tanto judios como cristianos. La corriente contraria, la antijudía, más fâcil de estudiar por su persistencia y por haber tenido casi siempre consecuencias dramáticas, ha sido mucho más estudiada y realzada que su corriente paralela, la favorable a los judios, porque los resultados de ésta no se pueden cuantificar ni objetivar, al ser simplemente algo que ha evitado, que ha impedido, y esos males que no se produjeron son algo que es inasible, solo conjeturable. Pero su action protectora contra los excesos antijudios no fue por eso menos eficaz y deberia merecer un agradecido estudio. Wolf en su imponente Bibliothecae Hebraicae ha expuesto las obras que tanto a favor como en contra de los judios se publicaron, asi como una abundante literatura judia andcrisdana. Deseo destacar ahora que durante el XVI—XVIII, además de los estudios sobre la organizaciôn polidca en tiempos biblicos, se produjo un interés por conocer la situation socio-polidca actual de los judios, del que podrian ser muestra por parte judia el Discorso area il Stato de gl' Hebrei & in particular di moranh nell' inclita città di Venetia de Simon Luzzato, Venecia, 1638, y por parte cristiana la obra de Lancelot Addison Present State of the Jews in Barbaria, Londres, 1675. De la corriente anticristiana hay dos obras en castellano que merecerian ser estudiadas: me refiero al manuscrito de un Diâlogo entre dos hermanos, escrito probablemente en Amsterdam en el siglo XVII (dado a conocer por Wolff y Kayserling, Bib. Esp.-Port.-Jud., 41, quienes mencionan très manuscritos de origen marroqui), y a Fuente Clara, impreso aljamiado en Constandnopla hacia 1740. E n el primero, una especie de bosquejo teatral, un hermano es judio y el otro cristiano; en el segundo, se pretende rebâtir todas las argumentaciones tradicionales cristianas sobre el Mesias y la validez del Talmud. Volviendo a la corriente apologética projudia, Miguel de Barrios (como judaizante Daniel Levi de Barrios) tuvo una intervention literaria importante en la difusiôn de la tesis de la lealtad al Principe con su Historia Universal Judayca publicada dos anos antes de que escribiera sus versos por la expulsion de los turcos de Buda en 1686, pues aunque el opûsculo no tiene fecha, dentro del texto se dice "en este ano de 1684." El ejemplar del opûsculo Historia Universal Judayca/ Por/ Don Miguel de Barrios que se encuentra en la Biblioteca Nacional de Madrid (signatura R/24289,7)

Consta de 11 folios que dan 22 páginas escritas, sin numerar, y ni dene lugar, ni pie de imprenta, ni fecha. Está encuadernado junto con unas gacetas portuguesas de los anos 1646 y 1647 y con una serie de libelos anriespanoles portugueses del siglo XVII (el primero es el de Sousa de Macedo Panegrico sobre 0 milagroso sucesso conque Deos liurou al Rey ... da sacrilega treiçâo dos Castelhanos.... 1647). El opusculo de Barrios se distingue de los libelos anriespanoles tanto por el menor tamano de sus folios, en 8 S , frente al casi 4 s general de los libelos, como por su contenido. Incidentalmente, conviene advertir que la propaganda antiespanola portuguesa fue admirable tanto por su cantidad y oportunidad como por su perseverancia durante más de veinte anos (1640-1664). La Historia Universal Judayca es un opûsculo notable que, aunque suele estar citado por los estudiosos, está falto de un anâlisis descriptivo y adscriptivo, salvo error por nuestra parte. Por ello hemos cfeido que séria de interés situarlo dentro del amplio marco de su temárica. La Historia Universal Judayca podria dividirse en très partes. E n la primera se hace un proyecto de historia general de los judios, parcialmente dado a conocer por K. R. M. Scholberg, La poesia religiosa de Miguel de Barrios (1964, 30—31). El proyecto de Barrios comprendia: / / 1 / / . . . desde el Belo Judayco de J o s e p h o hasta este ano de 1684. Tengo traçado publicarla en cinco volumenes: el primero, de la universal y la particular Descripcion de Tierra Sancta. El segundo, de los que la dominaron desde Tito a Mahoma, relatando lo que aconteciô a los Iudios en los tiempos de sus Dominadores. El tercero, de los sucessos Israeliticos desde Mahoma hasta que el Pagano Saladino echo de la Sagrada Tierra a los Pontificios que la posseyeron hasta entonces desde G o d o f r e d o el Bullon. El quarto, es de lo que passe» digno de memoria a los Hebreos debajo de diferentes Reyes, Principes, y Republicas estando la Santa Tierra con cl ferino yugo de los Turcos hasta el aiio en que el Rey D o n Fernando, desterrô los Iudios de Espana. El Quinto, presenta las distintas Sinagogas que en diversas y apartadas regiones del Mundo se conforman en observar la Ley Mosayca sin alterar ni un punto de ella.

Este ultimo punto es capital en el judaismo rabinico y entre los judaizantes se insisda una y otra vez en él. Especialmente machacôn es Ishac Adas en su Thesoro de Preceptos (primera ediciôn en Venecia, segunda en Amsterdam, 1649). Ciertamente, la necesidad de competir con el isnâd o cadena fidedigna de los dichos de Mahoma, llevô a los autores judios a justificar la cadena ininterrumpida de la tradiciôn del judaismo rabinico por medio de generaciones de maestros. Distinto es Samuel Usque, que no se propuso una šalšelet ba-qabbalah ο cadena de la tradiciôn, sino una historia de las persecuciones, y por eso su periodizaciôn histôrica es novedosa cuando compone en portugués Consolacam de Israel (Ferrara, 1553). Reparte la historia judia en très periodos (biblico, helenoromano, postromano) a través de los très diâlogos de que consta su libro. La division histôrica en cinco periodos proyeetada por Miguel de Barrios era, pues, más amplia y moderna que sus antecesoras e incluia una geografia de Tierra Santa. E n cinco tomos publico muchos anos después Jacques Basnage

L'Histoire et la religion des Juifs, depuis Jésus-Christ jusqu'à présent (Rotterdam, 17061707), cuyas fuentes judias han sido estudiadas por Miriam Silvera en Studia Rosenthaliana 25, 1991, 42-53. Después de exponer su proyecto de Historia Universal de los Judios, Miguel de Barrios entra en la segunda parte: la apologia de los judios: / / 1 / / Muestro en todo que son los Iudios, compaçivos con los proximos; leales à los Principes, y Reyes que los acogen; agradecidos à los beneficios; biçarros en las publicidades, valerosos en las campanas, pacientes en los trabajos; incansables en las peregrinaciones; agiles en los tratos, aparatosos en las riquezas; estremados en las ciencias; diligentes en los cargos; y por honra de la Ley Mosayca, poliricos con los estranos, aun mas que con los propios. Generalmente, denen tal alrives, que ni el mas pobre se abate à servir al mas rico por presumir de tan noble c o m o el; y estimar con lustre, mas la pobreza, que la conveniencia servil.

(Solamente de refilôn llamaremos la atenciôn de como Barrios atribuye a "sus" judios la altivez dpica del hidalgo castellano, queriendo ennoblecerlos. Y sigue:) / / 3 / / Rabi Menasses ben Israel, passô de Amsterdam a Londres llamado del Protector Cromuel, donde compuso el libro en que prueva la fidelidad, la N o bleza Judayca y el provecho que denen quantas naciones admiten a los judios.

La referencia a Menasseh ben Israel se aplica a su Esperanza de Israel (1650), donde da una relaciôn de principes que han tratado bien a los judios, pero quizás pudiera extenderse al libro publicado en Londres en 1648 (1649 en realidad) titulado An Apology for the honorable nation of the Jews, and all the sons of Israel. Written by Edward Nicholas (Londres, 1648), al que siguiô una edition en espanol: APOLOGIA Por la noble nation de los IVDIOS Y hijos de ISRAEL Escrita en Ingles Por Eduardo Nicholas (Londres 1649, 4 2 , 8 folios). Nadie sabe quién fue el tal Eduardo Nicholas y generalmente se sugiere que no fue más que un pseudônimo de Menasseh, haciéndose pasar por un inglés que escribe a los de su pais en favor de los judios para que se revocase el decreto de expulsion de los judios vigente en Inglaterra desde 1290, es decir, desde hacia très siglos y medio. Como ocurriô con el "Memorial" que supuestamente entregaron los judios de Budapest al general de las tropas imperiales y que se dice traducido del alemân, cuando en realidad es un plagio resumido de un capitulo de las Excelencias de los Hebreos (1673) de Isaac Cardoso, la Apologia parece un original en espanol del propio Menasseh que luego fue traducido por alguien al inglés con fines de propaganda favorable a la autorizaciôn del regreso de los judios a Inglaterra, y es lôgico que primero se imprimiera la version inglesa y luego la espanola. Veamos unos pàrrafos: (f. 2v)... Entre todos el mayor pecado, y en que todo consiste, es el riguroso decreto, aun oy en su fuerça contra la mas noble nacion del mundo, la nacion de los Iudios pueblo escogido por Dios, c o m o claramente Consta de los infinitos milagros, que con ellos dene usados, llamandole su escogido, su primogenito,

pueblo precioso sobre todos !os pueblos de la tierra, Reyno de Sacerdotes y pueblo Santo... Que en tij en tu simiente, seran bendit as todas las gentes de la tierra...

... (f. 4r) Q) " n o sera demasiada negligencia (o p o r m e j o r decir locura) en nosotros, n o aprovecharnos, y echar m a n o de tantas promessas y bêdiciones q ~ p o r medio de la noble naciô de los Judios p o d e m o s alcansar?.... (f. 7v).... Yo conosco que los que mas an de repugnar esta Apologia p o r los Judios, sera el Papa con sus allegados, y sobre todos los Jesuitas sus principales ministros.... (f. 8r) Humildemente ofresco esta Apologia con sus consideracionés a t o d o el Reyno de Ingalatierra.... (f. 8v) L o que tengo escrito, n o ha sido a pedimiento de ninguno de la nacion de los Judios, solo mostrar lo que à tanto tiempo tengo en mi c o r a ç o n " ... P a r e c e q u e el s e n t i r g e n e r a l era v i n c u l a r la Apologia

a Menasseh.

S i g u i e n d o e s a c o r r i e n t e a p o l o g é t i c a judia d e M e n a s s e h , M i g u e l d e B a r r i o s b a j o el e p i g r a f e POR EL PROVECHO d a u n a r e l a c i ô n d e c i u d a d e s , r e i n o s e i m p e rios d o n d e los j u d i o s s o n a c o g i d o s f a v o r a b l e m e n t e y p o n e d e r e l i e v e el p r o v e c h o q u e s a c a n , e c o n ô m i c o y p o l i t i c o , d e la p r e s e n c i a d e j u d i o s : / / 3 / / y mayormente la Pontificia R o m a siempre los ha patrocinado desde que destruyô a Jerusalem su General T i t o ... / / 4 / / ... E n esta ciudad de Amsterdam tienen los Iudios grandes riquezas y una gran parte en la famosa Compania Holandesa de las Indias Orientales y Occidentales. B a r r i o s , sin t r a n s i t i o n , e s c r i b e a c o n t i n u a t i o n la t e r c e r a p a r t e q u e titula POR LA FIDELIDAD, d o n d e d a u n a r e l a c i ô n d e j u d i o s g o b e r n a d o r e s y a l t o s c a r g o s y la i m p o r t a n c i a y p o d e r p o l i t i c o y f i n a n c i e r o q u e a l c a n z a r o n . L a lista es larga e i n cluye p r i n c i p a l m e n t e a c o n t e m p o r â n e o s d e l siglo XVII; las e x p l i c a c i o n e s q u e la a c o m p a n a n llevan s i e m p r e la i n t e n c i ô n d e m o s t r a r q u e la c o n f i a n z a d e p o s i t a d a p o r las a u t o r i d a d e s e n los j u d i o s se b a s a e n s u c a p a c i d a d y s o b r e t o d o e n su fid e l i d a d al P r i n c i p e . S o l a m e n t e u n o s p o c o s e j e m p l o s : / / 7 / / El Rey D o n Juan Segundo de Portugal por el leal advitrio de los Iudios. Descubriô à la India Oriental, y p o r esso hizo confiança de Rabi Abraham de Beja, (Abraham Zacuto el astrônomo) y de Ioseph Zapatero de Lamego q u a n d o los embiô p o r tierra a las orillas del Mar Roxo, de d o n d e P e d r o de C o v ‫ ש‬a m se e m b a r c ô con Rabi Abraham para H o r m u z , y J o s e p h de Lamego t o m ô al referido Rey con el aviso de lo que hasta entonces se havia descubierto ... / / 8 / / ... Y n o hay en Turquia Virrey, ni G o v e r n a d o r ô Baxá que n o tenga un Iudio para el manejo de sus negocios, y el cuidado de su Casa. El Mayor Virreynado turcico, es el de la Egypcia Cayro, y a su Virrey siempre por orden del gran Senor, se junta un Iudio con titulo de Zaraf (sarrâj) Boxa ô Tesorero de quantos arrendamientos de govierno recibe el e m b o l s a d o dinero que embia al E m p e r a d o r O t o m a n o con su sello. El tirano Xarife de Marruecos, cercô a la ciudad de Z a f e en el a n o de 1539 con cien mil hombres: y el valiente Samuel Valenciano Iudio de Azamor, y Almirante de guerreros Vergantines, que f o r m ô a su / / 9 / / Costa, socorriô a los cercados Portugueses, y con admirable industria, y audacia desbaratô a los M a h o m e t a n o s , y descerco á la Ciudad. ... Muley Ismael... inutulado c o m o sus antessores E m p e r a d o r de Fez, de Marruecos, de Tefilete, &c. agradeciendo los favores que en sus adversidades le

hi20 el Israelita Ioseph Maimarán / / 1 0 / / en la Ciudad de Mequenes: se los recompensé» q u a n d o e m p u n ô el ceptro haziend0(10) su Consejero y Mayordom o : diôle p o d e r de ajustar las pazes con diferentes Principes y Estados. Y Abraham Maymarán queda con el m i s m o Cargo de su padre J o s e p h Maymaràn en este ano de 1684." B a r r i o s i n s i s t e e n lo q u e ya h a b i a s e n a l a d o I s a a c C a r d o s o e n las Excelenàas

de los

Hebreor. el q u e los j u d i o s r e z a n p o r los a u t o r i d a d e s d o n d e v i v e n : / / 1 0 / / O b s e r v a n los Iudios en los Sabados y Pasquas el rogar a D i o s p o r la Vida y prosperidad de los E m p e r a d o r e s , Monarcas, Principes y Repûblicas debajo de cuyo Domicilio Viven de qualquier Religion que sean. A esto los obligan los Rabinos, los Talmudistas y aun los Prophetas... Las palabras que usan en la bendicion son las siguientes: Aquel que da Salvacion a los Reyes, y D o m i n i o a los Senores; aquel que libro a su siervo David del cuchillo del E n e m i g o ; aquel que hizo camino en el Mar, senda en las aguas estrangeras, bendiga y guarde, conserve y restaure, exalte, magni- / 1 1 / fique y levante de alto en alto a nuestro Senor (y enfonces n o m b r a n d o al Papa, E m p e rador, Rey, D u q u e , ο quai quiera o t r o Principe ο Republica que los admite en sus derra, prosiguen) el Rey de los Reyes lo defienda en su misericordia, haziendole alegre y libre de todos peligros, y trabajos. El Rey de los Reyes, p o r a m o r de su b o n d a d , levante, y exalte su estrella, planeta, y multiplique sus dias sobre su Reyno : el Rey de los Reyes, p o r su clemencia dé en su corazon y en el de sus consejeros y en el de quantos con el andan, la inclinacion de mostrarn o s misericordia, paraque Iudá, y Israël vivan seguramente, y que venga el Red e m p t o r a Israel. Quiera Dios que esto se cumpla: A m e n . E n las r e f e r e n c i a s a E s p a n a , B a r r i o s e n t r a e n la p o l é m i c a d e si los j u d i o s c o n t r i b u y e r o n ο n o a q u e los m u s u l m a n e s c o n q u i s t a r a n T o l e d o . F u e é s t e u n

tema

m u y u s a d o p o r los e n e m i g o s d e los j u d i o s a c u s â n d o l o s d e t r a i d o r e s . Y a f u e t r a t a d o p o r S a m u e l U s q u e y a h o r a es r e t o m a d o d e n u e v o , a d u c i e n d o q u e : / / 1 2 / / El Padre Mariana n o escrive que T o l e d o se entrego a los M o r o s p o r los Iudios. y afiade: / / 1 3 / / Y sino huvieran sido siempre leales a los Reyes que fueron desde enfonces restaurando a Espana, n o huvieran q u e d a d o en sus derra con Juezes propios en lo civil, y aun en lo criminal con la aprovacion Real. I n s i s t e e n u n a r g u m e n t o c a r o a los h i s t o r i a d o r e s j u d i o s : la E x p u l s i o n d e E s p a n a f u e solo p o r m o t i v o s religiosos: / / 1 3 / / N i el Rey D o n F e r n a n d o los desterrô sino es con pretextos de Religion. Don lshac Abravanel\ descendiente del Rey David, y Consejero del prop u e s t o Rey D o n Fernando, célébra la lealtad de los Iudios que p u d i e n d o p o r la muldtud, y esfuerço tomar las armas contra quantos Espanoles los desterravan de sus Reynos, n o lo hizieron con el reconocimiento de la fidelidad y obediencia que devian a sus Reyes Hiberos. P a s a l u e g o a e l o g i a r la f i d e l i d a d a los e s p a n o l e s e n O r â n d e las f a m i l i a s S a s p o r t a s y Cansino:

/ / 1 3 / / a n t i g u o s Iudios de Aragon, no perdieron el amor leal que tenian a las / / 1 4 / / Catholicas Magestades ... se juramentaron con los Sotorres, Mayques, Vaises, y otras familias de Iudios, de morir en defensa de Oran ... antes de entregarse a los Moros ...

y hace referencia a la version que hizo Jacob Cansino de Extremes j Grandels de Constantinopla; recoge textualmente / / 1 6 / / un Memorial que el mismo Cansino enviô a la Reina Regente, madré de Carlos II poniendo por tesdgo de la lealtad judaica a su Consejo de Guerra; también recoge textualmente / / 1 7 / / elpasaporte que a los Sasportas dio el Gobernador Marqués de los Vêlez cuando la Reina mandô salir de Orân a todos los judios en 1669, quedando claro que no salian por traiciôn sino por voluntad real. Y advierte: / / 1 9 / / N o menciono muchos Hebreos que en cubiertos tuvieron y denen honorificos cargos y titulos sino los que descubiertamente merecieron por su fiel vigilancia los favores de diferentes Magestades y Altezas.

Ya al final del opusculo, Barrios escribe un soneto en honor del cabalista Alonso=Abraham de Herrera. Y afiade una nota personal: / / 2 1 / / y en los pocos anos que tengo de morador Amstelodamo he visto a D o n Andres de Belmonte Agente General de la Magestad Catholica en H o landa.

Como si se hubiera acordado de pronto, Barrios termina: / / 2 2 / / J o c o b Pereyra tuvo tambien el cargo de Proveedor General y goza authoridad con los Burgamestres y Principales de Amsterdam.

El opusculo da la sensaciôn de un guiôn o bosquejo para ser ensenado a algùn posible mecenas, y lo raro es que esté impreso, pues no es más que una ristra de datos traidos a la memoria por asociaciones de ideas y no por una planificaciôn rigurosa. Los freudianos pueden encontrar en él una posible angustia marrana sefardi: demostrar que ellos son fieles a quienes los acogen. Y encontrarân también el siempre dispuesto espiritu laudatorio de Miguel de Barrios. Quizás podria ser licito el especular si luego, en 1686, la Historia UniversalJudayca sirviô de inspiration o precedente de la supuesta carta de los judios de Buda (que estudié en "La fidelidad judia a las autoridades: un Memorial de cuando la pérdida turca de Buda en 1686." Sefarad 57, 1997, 227-250) cuando fue conquistada por las tropas imperiales y en la que se expresaba la fidelidad de los judios al Principe. Esto nos llevaria a formular la pregunta: ^Pudo la carta publicada por Antonio Pizarro de Oliveros en su Cesareo Carro Triumphal (1687) ser obra de Miguel de Barrios? Queda la sospecha.

E L JUDEOESPANOL EN LOS LIBROS DE TEXTO DE L E N G U A ESPANOLA (CASTELLANA) Y LITERATURA EN LAS ENSENANZAS MÉDIAS (SECUNDARIA) EN ESPANA JOSÉ MANUEL GONZÂLEZ BERNAL Madrid, Spain

El libro Los sefardies. Historia, Lenguay Cultura. de Paloma Diaz-Mas, se cierra con la siguiente cita de Iacob M. Hassán: Mientras el espanol sefardi (literatura y lengua) no se incluya en nuestro plan de estudio universitario—no más ni tampoco menos que el catalân, gallego ο vascuence—estarâ sin saldar la deuda de Espana con los sefardies. Que es deuda consigo misma, porque sin el conocimiento de la literatura sefardi no será cabal el que se tenga de las letras hispánicas. (Diaz-Mas 1986: 254)

A esta reflexion del profesor Hassán, cabe anadir y preguntarse: ,;está saldada esa deuda en el àmbito precedente, no universitario, de la educaciôn de los espanoles?;
E n el caso de la nueva Education Secundaria nos limitaremos al anâlisis de libros de Lengua castellanay Literatura de los cursos de 3° y 4° de ESO. Ello es debido a que, en la mayoria de las ocasiones, las éditoriales comienzan ahora a publicar sus nuevos libros de texto, ya que el curso de 3° de E S O susdtuirá el proximo ano al actual 1° de BUP, que se extinguirá. El acceso a los manuales de los cursos 1° y 2° del nuevo Bachillerato nos ha sido imposible en este momento. Asi, pues, nos situamos en un momento de transition en el panorama educativo espanol de los adolescentes, y, tal vez, en la misma medida, de la informaciôn que conocerân sobre el tema que tratamos. ,·Donde se trata el estudio del judeoespanol? <:En qué tema o unidad didácrica figura? jAl lado de qué otra information? E n los manuales revisados se estudia en un tema o unidad didácdca que se viene titulando La situation lingüistica de Espana, El castellanoy los dialectos, El espanol en el mundo... E n la mejor de las ocasiones se convierte en un apartado autônomo de unas quince lineas con dtulos taies como El judeoespanol, El sefardi o ambas denominaciones juntas. El más destacable lo hallamos en un libro del curso de 1° de BUP:

El judeoespanol El judeoespanol es el dialecto hablado por los sefardies, es decir, los descendientes de los judios que en 1492 fueron expulsados de Espana (Sefarad). Después de cinco siglos conservan su lengua originaria muchas familias hebreas que fijaron su residencia en el norte de Africa y en Oriente: Grecia, Turquia... El judeoespanol conserva muchos rasgos de los dialectos peninsulares de la Edad Media. Mandene fonemas que se han perdido en espanol: la r sonora / z / ; la χ, como la sh del inglés; dos fonemas dentales que se pronuncian como ts (sordo) y ds (sonoro). Abundan las palabras arcaicas: palomba (paloma), ambesar (ensenar), adobar (preparar)... El judeoespanol del Norte de Africa está más influido por el espanol peninsular. El de Oriente conserva sus formas genuinas. En Israel existe un periôdico, La verdad, y emisoras de radio en este interesanté dialecto hispânico. Hay que decir, sin embargo, que el judeoespanol está retrocediendo ante el empuje del inglés, lengua oficial del Estado. (Pedraza 1988: 88)

E n otras ocasiones se explica en pocas lineas como parte de una section general (Extension del castellano, Extension y variedad del espanol, Otras rutas de expansion del espanol...), y, o bien aparece solo en el cuerpo central, siendo el siguiente caso de un manual de C O U el más resenable: Esta, por otra parte, el extraordinario testimonio del judeo-espanol o sefardi, que habian los descendientes de los judios expulsados de Espana en 1492. Se establecieron preferentemente en el Norte de Africa y en los Balcanes, donde se enriquecieron con el comercio. A lo largo de los siglos, han conservado sus tradiciones y su lengua como sustrato familiar, aun en los medios más hostiles, y todavia hoy podemos escuchar romances y canciones que en Espana se han olvidado.

U n o de sus mayores puntos de interés radica en que conserva en buena medida la fonérica del siglo XV, sin apenas evoluciôn, lo que supone que existe una modalidad de nuestra lengua que se sigue hablando como hace cinco siglos. Un duro golpe para el judeo-espanol lo consdtuyô la ultima Guerra Mundial, puesto que gran parte de los judios exterminados eran sefardies. Muchos de los supervivientes emigraron a paises como Estados Unidos, donde la competencia con el inglés ha hecho que se vaya olvidando. A pesar de ello, sigue vivo el amor a esta lengua por parte de un numeroso colectivo, y en Israel existen publicaciones y medios de comunicaciôn que la udlizan, en un encomiable intento de conservaciôn. (Gascon 1997: 209-210)

aunque es normal que se dediquen dos ο très lineas nada más: Por fin, lo hablan los judios descendientes de los que abandonaron Espana a raiz del decreto de expulsion (1492), qute viven en Rumania, Bulgaria, Turquía, Grecia y, sobre todo, Israel. Se trata de un castellano muy arcaico, que se de-

nomina sefardi ο judeoespanol. (Làzaro 1985: 46)

ο bien en un espacio en el margen, utilizado este como ampliaciôn y no como parte fundamental de lo que el estudiante debe aprender. Asi el siguiente apartado en el margen de un libro de 1° de BUP: EL J U D E O E S P A N O L

En el norte de Africa y en Oriente hay numerosas comunidades formadas por descendientes de los judios que fueron expulsados en 1492 por los Reyes Catôlicos. E n estas comunidades se habla un espanol arcaico, llamado judeoes-

paiiol ο sefardi. El judeoespanol, hablado en la actualidad por unas 900.000 personas, es un testimonio vivo del estado en que se encontraba la lengua espanola a finales del siglo XV. (Ferro 1987: 50)

Por fin, algunos ejemplares carecen de cualquier information acerca del judeoespanol. E n una minoria de los manuales se da entrada a textos judeoespanoles acompanando a la information ofrecida ο formando parte de los ejercicios ο acdvidades del tema ο unidad didácdca. Figuran dos textos extraidos del periôdico ABC: por un lado, un ardeulo de Moshe Shaul, "Israel y Espanya, de kara al futuro," Sàbado 17 de octubre de 1987 (Pedraza 1988: 89-90), y, por otro, un poema de Isak Papo, Sarajevo, 12 de diciembre de 1993 (Bernabeu 1998: 13); además un breve fragmento de una noticia extraida de un periôdico sefardi sin cita bibliogrâfica (Garcia 1981: 59), y en otro caso, las très primeras estrofas de la copia "Los extremos de la vida" del libro de Copias sefardies de la doctora Elena Romero (Bouza 1998: 310). Fuera de estos temas ο unidades didácticas sobre la situation de las lenguas de Espana, résulta innovadora la lôgica conexiôn del judeoespanol con el mundo judio espanol recogida en un manual de la nueva Educaciôn Secundaria. Dentro de un tema dedicado a los textos expositivos (Bouza 1998: 258-270), figuran un texto sobre Maimônides del libro de Tamar Alexander y Elena Romero Erase una ve%... Maimônides, y otro de Julio Caro Baroja del libro Losjudios en la Espana Moderna y Contemporâneo; y en la section de Historia de las palabras se

dedica un apartado a Hebraismos, lo que ya en si es novedoso, y se recuerda el judeoespanol en los siguientes términos: Hasta su expulsion en 1492, los judios de la Peninsula convivieron con cristianos y musulmanes. Fruto de esta relaciôn, se fueron incorporando al castellano palabras procedentes del hebreo. Entre los hebraismos se cuentan nombres comunes (câbala, rabino, sàbado, sefardi) y numerosos nombres propios cuyo origen

está en la Biblia (Abraham, Isaac, José, Racjuel). Los sefardies, es decir, los judios que fueron expulsados de la Peninsula y sus descendientes, mantuvieron como lengua el castellano alli donde se dirigieron. Esta lengua se ha conservado hasta nuestros dias y es conocida c o m o ju-

deoespanol o sefardi. E n otro reciente libro de texto se recoge la noticia de un periôdico de tirada nacional sobre la concesiôn en 1990 del Premio Principe de Asturias a la Concordia a las comunidades sefardies, junto al resto de los premiados, con el sugerente ritular: Don Felipe salda la deuda histôrica con los sefardies. Después se relaciona superficialmente con la très culturas medievales peninsulares (Arroyo 1995: 6). Y es que, dentro de un tema como La situaciôn lingiiistica de Espana o El espanol en el mundo, el judeoespanol dene que compartir espacio con la evolution o proceso de formaciôn del castellano, con las otras variedades dialectales del espanol peninsular (andaluz, extremeno, canario, riojano...) y del espanol no peninsular (el de Filipinas, Guinea y el espanol de América, al que se dedica con frecuencia un tema aparte); compartir espacio con los casos de las hablas leonesas y aragonesas, con las otras lenguas de Espana (catalân, gallego, vasco), apartados estos que resultan más atrayentes, por cercanos, a los estudiantes (muchos de ellos emplean uno de los dialectos explicados o habian otra de las lenguas oficiales de Espana). y a los que en consecuencia se otorga una mayor extension. El m u n d o sefardi résulta lejano, no solo para el estudiante, sino también para el propio profesor, desconocedor casi en su totalidad de tal asunto, quien lo considéra algo marginal, como muestran los datos que hemos expuesto y la experiencia del dia a dia en las clases. Desde luego, no obdene la consideration de ser parte esencial de las letras hispánicas. Pero no solo eso, la cultura judia y sefardi no forma parte de su realidad coddiana, ni dentro ni fuera del Insdtuto o Colegio. (‫״‬Qué information se recoge? ,;Se reproducen tôpicos? ,;Es acertada esa informaciôn? N o es extrano que la information que se proporciona sobre el judeoespanol o sobre los sefardies contenga imprecisiones. Estas imprecisiones vienen propiciadas por la propia naturaleza de los libros de texto para estas edades. El conocimiento que sobre los temas ha de obtener el alumnado es general y poco especializado. El espacio desdnado está muy limitado y en el libro de texto se tiende a dar una information sintédca que recoja datos esenciales. Además, las propias coordinaciones éditoriales marcan aproximadamente el numéro de páginas que ha de tener un libro y conceden o quitan relevancia a unos temas o a otros segûn diferentes factores, comenzando por el numeroso publico, comprador obligado, al que va dirigido.

A ello se suma el conocimiento general, tôpico, y de manual sobre el judeoespanol de los propios autores y coordinadores de edition de los libros de texto, segûn se deduce de lo que hemos leido en los materiales manejados, asi como de nuestra experiencia al hablar con la inmensa mayoria de los profesores. Asi, los sefardies suelen idendftcarse en la mayor parte de los libros de texto con los judios expulsados en 1492 y sus descendientes. Esta definition, imprecisa, se debe considerar aceptable si se tiene en cuenta que el momento histôrico de la expulsion es el que reconocen nuestros alumnos, y poco más saben de la presencia judia medieval en Espana y de la posterior historia del judaismo de raiz hispánica. Asi, leemos: Está, por otra parte, el extraordinario testimonio del judeo-espanol ο sefardi, que hablan los descendientes de los judios expulsados de Espana en 1492. (Gascon 1997: 209)

O: El judeoespanol es el dialecto hablado por los sefardies, es decir, los descendientes de los judios que en 1492 fueron expulsados de Espana (Sefarad). (Pedraza 1988: 88)

En un buen numéro de libros no se aporta la definition del sefardi. Por otra parte, la consideration del judeoespanol como lengua fosilizada y arcaica que se habia mantenido prácdcamente inalterada desde los lejanos siglo XV de la expulsion ο XVI, es practica comûn hasta llegar a leer: A este castellano de finales del siglo XV se le da el nombre de Sefardi ο judeoespafiol. Sin contacto ya con la metrôpoli, no pardcipô de las evoluciones del castellano de Espana; de ahi su carácter arcaico. (Garcia 1981: 57) O , e n o t r o caso: En la actualidad aun hay comunidades hablantes del castellano del siglo XVI; son los sefarditas y su lengua el sefardi o judeo espanol. (Gômez Picapeo 1998:

‫)יי‬ Al hablar de los rasgos lingûisticos propios del judeoespanol, en un manual se localiza una lista de 8 puntos referidos al àmbito fônico (conservation de las palatales fricativas sorda y sonora, conservation de la palatal africada sonora, el yeismo...). E n este libro, además, no se habla de arcaismo, sino que se précisa: Las comunidades sefardies conservaron, mezclados con influencias de lenguas con las que han convivido, rasgos lingiiisticos propios del castellano de los siglos XV y XVI. (Pérez 1988: 342)

En otros casos aislados, algunos anteriormente citados, se indican rasgos fônicos y léxicos. Igualmente desorganizada, inadecuada en algunos casos e incluso errônea es la relation de los lugares en los que se asentaron y se asientan hoy los sefardies. Con tan poco espacio dedicado es imposible explicar adecuadamente los cambios de asentamiento. N o insistiremos más en ello. Como se senalaba al comienzo, la deuda con el legado sefardi continûa, porque se desconoce casi en su totalidad la cultura sefardi y, sobre todo, su rica

literatura, reconocida en casos puntuales. La inclusion de tan solo dos poemas y dos ardculos periodisticos acaba siendo a todas luces un pobre balance. Solo en un par de libros de la nueva Educaciôn Secundaria se ha hallado un tratamiento diferente al anteriormente otorgado. Pero curiosamente este nuevo y, quizás, prometedor tratamiento también se emplea en la section final del primer tema o unidad didácdca de uno de los libros de texto de 1° de E S O , que no han sido objeto de revision, y que casualmente hemos encontrado al hojearlo. A m o d o de texto informativo, asunto del que trata la unidad didáctica, y con cierto tono nostâlgico y epopéyico—no olvidemos la de edad de estos alumnos (docetrece anos)—se inventa un breve reportaje didâcdco, provisto de mayor informaciôn que el resto de los apartados analizados. He aqui el texto integro por su singularidad: Los sefardies han conservado el idioma espanol durante cinco siglos.

El idioma del tatarabuelo Fuerort expulsados de Espana hace quinientos anos, pero nunca olvidaron su vieja patria, a la que llamaban Sefarad. Los judios que tuvieron que abandonar nuestro pais en 1492 siguieron sintiéndose espanoles y decidieron conservar, contra vientoj marea, su idioma j‫ ׳‬sus costumbres. Y, desde luego, lo lograron. Aun ahora, cinco siglos más tarde, miles de sefardies, descendientes de aquellos judios expulsados, hablan un curioso dialecto al que llaman judeo-espanol o sefardi. Los estudiosos lo consideran una variedad dialectal del espanol basado en el castellano del siglo XVI, al que se han ido incorporando palabras de otros idiomas, c o m o el turco, el hebreo o el árabe.

A ki Yerushalayim La mayor parte de los actuales sefardies viven en Israel y en Turquia, aunque también hay grupos en Estados Unidos, Marruecos y otros lugares del mundo. Alii han conservado las costumbres y la lengua de los tatarabuelos de sus tatarabuelos. Las comunidades sefardies celebran actos y reuniones para mantener vivo su idioma y publican periôdicos y revistas. Una de ellas se llama Aki Ye-

rushalayim. Revista Kulturala Djudeo espanyola, y otra Los nuestros. La bo% de los sefaradim. <;A que has entendido los u'tulos?

Un premio a la constancia Seguro que también puedes comprender la frase que pronunciô en 1990 u n o de los représentantes de las comunidades sefardies cuando les comunicaron que se les habia concedido el Premio Principe de Asturias a la Concordia. El galardôn se otorgô a los grupos judeo-espanoles dispersos por el mundo, en reconocimiento al esfuerzo hecho a los largo de generaciones para mantener viva la idenddad judeo-espanola.

"Yremos a una fiesta ke emos ariyorado tanto tiempo ke kinientos anjos de istoria nos golpearân enderecho alkorason." (Gômez Torrego 1997, 21)

Referencias Arroyo, C.-Mendoza, M. 1995. Lengua Castellanay Literatura 3° ESO. Zaragoza: Luis Vives. Bernabeu, N.-Rodicio, B. N.-Rodicio, M. T. 1998. Lengua Castellanay Literatura 3° ESO. Madrid: Editex. Bouza, M. T.-Gonzalez, Β.-González, J. M.-Romeu, A. 1998. Lengua castellanaj Literatura 3° secundaria. Navarra: Oxford University Press Espana. , 1998. Lengua castellanaj Literatura 4°secundaria. Navarra: Oxford University Press Espana. Diaz-Mas, P. 1986. Los sefardies. Historia, Lenguay Cultura. Barcelona: Riopiedras. Ferro, E.-Ruiz, M. R. 1987. Lengua espanola 1'BUP. Madrid: Santillana. Garcia, J. L.-Gömez Torrego, L. 1981. Lengua l'BUP. Madrid: Alhambra. Gascon, Ε. 1997. Lengua espanolay Comentario de texto COU. Madrid: Edinumen. G ô m e z Picapeo, J.-Lajo, J.-Toboso, J.-Vidorreta, C. 1998. Lengua Castellanay Literatura 3" ESO. Madrid: Bruno. G ô m e z Torrego, L.-De la Hoz, C.-Navarro, P. 1997. Lenguay Literatura 1 ° secundaria. Madrid: SM. Làzaro, F.-Tusôn, V. 1985. Lengua espanola 1°. Madrid: Anaya. Pedraza, F. J. 1988. Nuestra expresiôn 1 (Lengua espanola). Madrid: Bruno. Pérez, J.-Viudas, A. 1988. Lengua espanola COU. Madrid: SM. Otros libros de texto consultados de los cursos 1°, 2° y 3° de BUP, C O U , 3° y 4° de la E S O corresponden a las siguientes éditoriales: Anaya, Alhambra, Bruno, Casals, Ecir, Edinumen, Editex, Luis Vives (Edelvives), Noguer, Oxford University Press Espana, Santillana, SGEL, SM, Vicens Vives.

ASPECTOS M 0 R F 0 S I N T Á C T I C 0 S DEL SUPERLATIVO EN LA PRENSA SEFARDI DE SALÔNICA ( 1 8 9 7 - I 9 3 5 ) CARMEN HERNANDEZ GONZÄLEZ Universidad de Valladolid, Spain

Hace apenas très anos durante la celebration de un curso sobre cultura Hispano Judia y Sefardi en la ciudad de Toledo, defendiamos en publico una mayor presencia del m u n d o cultural, literario y lingüisdco sefardi en las aulas universitarias. Hoy, contando con la inestimable ayuda del profesor I. M. Hassán, seguimos empefiados en esta misma tarea con un convencimiento cada vez más ciendfico y entusiasta. Nuestra dedication a la historia de la lengua espanola y a la dialectologia, materia sin la cual séria imposible un conocimiento pleno y riguroso de los avatares del espanol a través del dempo, nos hicieron recalar de forma especial en el judeoespanol con la seguridad de que éste condene muchas de las claves que explican nuestro pasado literario y lingüistico. Nuestro interés se centra muy especialmente en aspectos de carácter m o r f o sintâctico por ser nuestros preferidos en el campo de la gramática histôrica del espanol y porque son los menos estudiados en el sefardi—desde la optica del hispanismo—ya que la fonologia y, sobre todo, el léxico han recibido una mayor atenciôn. El corpus utilizado para nuestro estudio sobre los elementos eladvos y superladvos en sefardi está constituido por un amplio conjunto de nodcias (alrededor de 900) que Elena Romero 1 ha reunido y que dan cuenta de diferentes aspectos del m u n d o teatral sefardi, tanto desde un punto de vista literario c o m o sociolôgico. D e entre la totalidad de los periôdicos seleccionamos aquellos que se publicaron en Salônica porque consdtuyen el mayor contingente de los mismos y, consecuentemente, esperâbamos, de este m o d o , obtener un mayor numéro de datos para nuestra investigation. La election de los textos periodisticos frente a otro tipo de textos, literarios por ejemplo, reside en el hecho de que pensábamos que, al hacer referencia a una realidad concreta, coetânea al redactor, estarian escritos con el énfasis real que pondria en sus juicios, descripciones y, en general, en todo lo relativo al m u n d o teatral sefardi entre el ùltimo cuarto del siglo XIX y el primero del actual. D e esta manera la apariciôn de cualquier forma elativa en los textos responderia a estructuras cercanas a la lengua de los lectores, aunque con las condiciones formales y estilisdcas que impone el lenguaje periodistico. N o quisiéramos entrar aqui en cuestiones teôricas acerca del criterio gramatical de la gradation c o m o propiedad que, segûn se seiîala frecuentemente, puede distinguir a los adjetivos de los sustantivos. C o m o afirma I. Bosque " n o obtendremos de la lista tradicional de las partes de la oration las categorias que 1983: Repertorio de noticias sobre el mundo teatral de !os sefardies orientales. Madrid: CSIC.

denen en comûn admidr gradaciôn. Estos requisitos son semânticos más que categoriales—en el senddo clàsico de categoria gramadcal—y revelan hasta qué punto las clases de palabras en las que habitualmente distribuimos las categorias poseen propiedades cruzadas como las que en realidad están exigiendo esos adverbios de grado a los elementos sobre los que inciden." 2 Tampoco hay acuerdo entre los gramâticos respecto a lo qué es gradaciôn o a la canddad de grados existentes 3 y son diversos los àngulos desde los que se puede contemplar el problema. Nosotros estudiaremos aqui los mecanismos de carácter morfosintâcdco que el sefardi posee para expresar la gradaciôn, dejando relegados—para otra ocasiôn—los aspectos semânticos ο del contenido. 4 T o d o ello, claro está, con la referencia constante al espanol para poder asi observar qué estructuras han sobrevivido de nuestra lengua antigua, cuâles coinciden con la actual y cuâles representan algùn tipo de novedad. Cuando los gramâticos de las lenguas romances habian del grado utilizan términos idénticos a los del ladn y les asignan los mismos campos que tenian en esta lengua. Sin embargo, los idiomas neolatinos ofrecen una diferencia fundamental respecto a la distribution latina de los usos entre las formas del comparativo y del superlativo: mientras el latin expresaba con superlativo la excelencia de un término dentro del grupo al que pertenecen, las lenguas romances lo hacen por medio de formas de comparativo, 5 casi siempre individualizadas gracias al articulo: HUMILLIMUS H O M I N U M / "El más humilde de los hombres;" la tradiciôn gramadcal latina y la de las lenguas germánicas en las que la distribution es para el grado igual que el latin hace que los romanistas sigan empleando, con frecuencia, el nombre de superlativo relative para la construction antes nombrada, que, en realidad, deberia llamarse comparativo de excelencia o comparativo relevante. Hecha esta aclaraciôn que tendrá todo su sentido en las lineas que siguen, hablaremos—siguiendo de cerca de J. Alvaro Porto Dapena 6 —de très tipos de cuantificaciôn: sintagmâtica, morfemâtica y lexemâtica, siendo las dos primeras el objeto del présente estudio.

Sintagmâtica Corresponde a la cuantificaciôn más frecuente en espanol y consiste en la construction que se obtiene mediante la presencia del adjetivo precedido de una pardcula representada por un adverbio cuandficador.

2 3 4 5

6

Bosque 1989,122-124. Véase el trabajo de Rebollo, M. A. 1983. Véase Porto Dapena, J. A. 1973. Para los aspectos generates en torno al grado, su historia en nuestra lengua y antecedentes ladnos, véanse los trabajos de Alvar, M. y Pottier, B. 1983; Bassols, M. 1963; Ernout, A. 1953; Keniston, H. 1937; Hanssen, F. 1895; Lathrop, T. A. 1984; Menéndez Pidal, R. 1973; Penny, R. 1993; Urruda, H. y Alvarez, M. 1983; Jörnving, R. 1962. N o citaremos continuamente estas obras porque están présentes a lo largo de todo nuestro araculo. Porto Dapena, J. A. 1985.

Superlativo Absoluto Expresa la cualidad en el más alto grado sin término de relation. El ladn lo expresaba por medio de desinencias que fueron sustituidas en la lengua hablada por formaciones perifrásdcas. Veamos los dpos más importantes encontrados en nuestro corpus·.

El derivado del

MULTUM

latino

La distribuciôn de este derivado, con resultados fonédcos mucho, much, muito, muy, está relacionada con problemas de fonédca sintácdca: muito, su apocope muit, y muy se utilizan delante de consonante, y mucho y much delante de vocal. Pero siempre exisrieron duplicidades. Desde el siglo XVI la decadencia de mucho es muy perceptible y solo pervive en Castilla la Vieja y Aragon (en el lenguaje literario solamente muy). E n los textos sefardies es la estructura más abundante—cerca de 200 aparicioAes—y no se respeta la régla fonética arriba apuntada: - E s t e diâlogo fue m u c h o gustado (1906). - M u y b u e n o 'muy b i e n 1 9 2 7,1912,1911,1904)‫׳‬ ) - H a b l a n muy b u e n o el hebreo (1905). - R o l o que fue interpretado de una manera muy romanesca p o r la muy graciosa, la muy gentil, la muy joven ... la muy ... la muy Esterine Saldel (1908).

Estructura con

BENE

Además de la anterior construction que es la más exitosa tanto en el espanol general como en el sefardi, hay más posibilidades; en ladn clàsico abundaba la formation del superlativo con BENE, cuyo resultado fonético romance bien se encuentra en todas las épocas de la historia de nuestra lengua hasta nuestros dias. Más de una docena de ejemplos documentan la estructura en nuestros textos: - S a l u d o s bien disdnguidos (1910). - B i e n dificile (1921). - B i e n interesante (1923). - B i e n contente (1903, 1928 y 1933).

TAN (en lugar de muy) + Adjetivo o adverbio Son construcciones muy habituales hasta que en el siglo XV aparezca el superlativo sintético. Disminuye este tipo de ejemplos en el siglo XIV y en el XV desaparecen. Su origen está en las construcciones medievales comparativas en las que falta el término de comparaciôn ("viéndose tan [como se vio] creyô...," Don Quijote). De esta construction se pasa a una pondération más clara, como es la exclamaciôn ("jEs tan hermosa!"). E n nuestros textos encontramos ejemplos con valor superlativo, además de otros de carácter ponderativo: —Se hizo tanto querida al pueblo (1911). —Suceso tanto remarcable (1923). - O b r a tanto potente en judeoespanol (1915).

.

Construcciones con adverbios en

-MENTE

Menos representativas numéricamente que las anteriores posibilidades, al igual que en nuestra lengua medieval y en algunos usos actuales, también el sefardi utiliza este ripo de construcciones con valor superlativo: - A l t a m e n t e patriôtica (1909,1910,1925). - E x c e p c i o n a l m e n t e baratos (1925).

Formulas elativas A partir de una serie de expresiones adverbiales conseguimos estructuras equivalentes a formas de superladvo. Deseamos destacar, de entre las que aparecen en los textos, aquellas que no coinciden con las de la lengua espanola general: - S e jugo la pieza comica a! mas alto grado (1910). —Una pieza al ultimo grado interesante (1914). —Comedia que non dejara lados de reir, "divertidisima" (1931). 7

Superlativo Relativo E n realidad, es, c o m o veiamos, un comparativo de excelencia. Se trataba en ladn de destacar el elemento que poseia la cualidad en el mayor grado. E n ladn el grupo de referencia podia indicarse de diferentes formas, una de las cuâles consisda en la concordancia del adjetivo con el mismo sustantivo calificado: los restos que tenemos en castellano se han conservado por cultismo, unos desde las primeras etapas de la historia de nuestra lengua y otros a partir del siglo XV—màximo, minimo, infimo, extremo, sublime; algunos de ellos tienden a convertirse en positivos y admiten el refuerzo con más superlativo y la pondéraciôn con tan. Pero, en general, el espanol ha construido el superlativo relativo con el articulo + forma de comparativo. E n nuestros textos el inventario de ejemplos es elevadisimo tanto desde un p u n t o de vista formai c o m o numérico : - E l más grande de todos los autores cômicos franceses (1910). - U n o de los más hermosos dramas (1925). - L a más brillante de las fiestas (1927). - E l rolo el más ingrato (1932). - A u t o r francés de comedias el más renomado, Molier (1928).

Cuantificaciôn Morfemâtica Se da por medio de prefijos o sufijos. Solo hemos encontrado en nuestro texto el tipo en -isimo.

Superlativo absoluto Se utiliza, c o m o vimos más arriba, para expresar la cualidad sin parangon ni referencia. E n latin se u s a b a la f o r m a -ISSIMUS y s u s v a r i a n t e s -ERRIMUS e -ILIMUS, q u e

fueron sustituidos en la lengua hablada por formulas perifrásticas. El primer

Agradecemos a la profesora Margalit Maridahu que nos hizo saber que esta expresiôn se utiliza habitualmente en la lengua hablada judeoespanola con el valor que dene en este ejemplo.

ejemplo en -isimo está en Berceo, donde es un culdsmo claro. Nebrija no lo considéra sufijo patrimonial. En el siglo XVI se produce la aclimataciôn al espanol por influjo del italiano: su introduction es lenta (todavia Cervantes ironiza los superladvos sintédcos). Hoy su uso es espontâneo en espanol, aunque con más restricciones que en Hispanoamérica donde su comportamiento es similar al del italiano—aparece hasta con nombres propios. Solo très ejemplos en nuestro corpus y todos ellos de los primeros anos de este siglo: —Una grandisima muchedumbre de gente (1903). - L o s himnos nacionales eran cantados con grandisimo entusiasmo(1909). —Grandisima pasiôn (1914).

A modo de conclusion E n general, como hemos visto la gradation se consigue a través de recursos gramadcales y en un numéro menor de casos por procedimientos léxicos. E n nuestros textos son las estructuras perifrásdcas las que se prefieren sobre las sintédcas para la expresiôn del superladvo. ,;Por qué? Las respuestas pueden ser diferentes y no se excluyen entre si: tal vez porque todavia ahora en el espanol la forma muy contento frente a contendsimo no son, en realidad, idéndcos dpos de superlativo: el tipo latino contiene "una intensidad en si mismo" y el otro "una intensidad relativa"—en palabras de Porto Dapena, 8 además la segunda conserva, al menos en parte, el carácter de formation culta y literaria que tuvo en la época de su introduction en Espana. 9 La forma sintética es más tardía y existe entre ambas una diferencia de gradation: es más intensa la forma en -isimo que la conseguida con muy (está rarisimo /esta muy raro) y las lexicalizacionés solo se dan en la intensiva (El Aldsimo), manifestando esto una diferente forma de comportamiento sintâctico. 10 T o d o esto unido al hecho de que en el m o m e n t o histôrico en que se produce el distanciamiento de los judios espanoles de la Peninsula—1492—todavia el sufijo -isimo no se siente como patrimonial, puede justificar la poca presencia de esta forma en unos textos cargados, por otro lado, de elementos elativos y superlativos. Con lo dicho no acaba el problema. Es necesaria una amplia revision en otros textos de diferente tipologia a la de los estudiados aqui para poder trazar la historia compléta de los procedimientos de gradation caracteristicos de la lengua sefardi.

8 9 10

Porto Dapena, A. 1973, 348. R. A. E. 1973, 195. Véase Rebollo, M. A. 1983,194-195.

Bibliografia Alvar, M. y Pottier, B. 1983. Morfologia histôrica del espanol Madrid :Gredos. Bassols, M. 1963. Sintaxis latina. Madrid: CSIC. Bosque, I. 1989. Las categoriasgramaticales. Madrid: Sintesis. Ernout, A. 1953. Morphologie historique du latin. Paris: Klincksieck. Keniston, H. 1937. The Syntax of Castillan Prose. The Sixteenth Century. Chicago: University Press. Hanssen, F. 1945. Gramática histôrica de la lengua castellana. Buenos Aires: El Ateneo. Jörnving, R. 1962. "El elativo en -isimo en la lengua castellana de los siglos XV y XVI." Studia Neophilologica 34, 57-85. Lamíquiz, V. 1971. "El superlativo intensivo." BFE., Lathrop, T. A. 1984. Curso de gramâtica histôrica del espanol Barcelona: Ariel. Martineil, Ε. 1989. "Estilistica de la gradaciôn de los adjetivos." ACIH1,1, 253-1262. Menéndez Pidal, R. 1973. Manual degramâtica histôrica. Madrid: Espasa-Calpe. Morreale, M. 1955. "El superlativo en -isimo y la version castellana del Cortesano." RFE 39, 46-60. Penny, R. 1993. Gramâtica histôrica del espanol. Barcelona: Ariel. Porto Dapena, J. A. 1973. "Aportaciones al estudio del sistema de cuantificaciôn en el adjetivo espanol." Thesaurus, BICC 28, 344-357. , 1985. "La cuantificaciôn del adjetivo en espanol actual desde el el punto de vista de la expresiôn." En Philologica Hispaniensia in Honorem Manuel Alvar II, 541-556. Real Academia Espanola. 1973. Esbosp de una nueva gramâtica de la lengua espanola. Madrid: Espasa Calpe. Urrutia, H. y Alvarez, M. 1983. Esquema de morfosintaxis histôrica del espanol. Bilbao: Universidad de Deus to.

S0LIDARIDAD LINGÜISTICA Y TOLERANCIA RELIGIOSA DE LOS SEFARDIES BALCÂNICOS IVAN KANCHEV University of Sofia, Bulgaria

Notas preliminares Juzgando por el amplio repertorio bibliogrâfico, 1 la Judeohispanologia 2 parece haber explorado ya, casi a fondo, la cultura sefardi de la convivencial Edad Media (Sefarad-1, s. I-XV) y de los siglos transcurridos en busca del edén perdido (Sefarad-2, s. X V I - X I X ) . Respecto a la actualidad (Sefarad-3, s. XX), sin embargo, esta misma rama de la ciencia sigue estando en deuda con las diferentes formas de la cultura sefardi. Aun se insiste en la documentalistica, en "atesorar" los ûltimos restos de la tradiciôn oral, etc. Hay una marcada preocupaciôn por registrar el saber empirico del hombre, por el qué se dice aún (sincronia) y por el como de su evolution histôrica (diacronia). T o d o ello, considerado como material empirico, es indiscudblemente necesario para el saber ciendfico acerca del porqué de los hechos recogidos. En este senddo hay que reconocer los alcances de nuestra década, concretamente lo conseguido con el programa "Sefarad 92." Pero aun asi, queda mucho por hacer. Sefarad-3 exige un cambio radical de perspectiva y la colaboraciôn de otras ciencias con la Judeohispanologia, concretamente, la Sociologia y la Sociolingüisdca, la Etnologia y la Etnolingiiisrica, la Teoria del lenguaje, la Culturologia, etc. E n todas esas ciencias hay que aplicar la formula operadva "alcances y limites." Los que por vocation propia vienen dedicando lo mejor de su uempo y de su pensamiento a los problemas de Sefarad-3, deben valorar, con una acdtud cridca y al mismo tiempo razonable, toda investigation séria, realizada en épocas anteriores, independientemente de su acuerdo o desacuerdo con los principios teôricos y los modelos metodolôgicos aplicados. 3 Partiendo de esa valoraciôn, que asegura evitar el tôpico del "llover sobre mojado," el investigador debe colocarse en el seno mismo de cada forma de la cultura sefardi, para captarla desde dentro como resultado de la acdvidad creadora, desplegada por sus usuarios. E n el caso concreto, nos centramos en los problemas que suscitan la lengua y la religion de los sefardies en tierras balcânicas.

‫י‬ 2 3

Sala, M. 1976. Le ]udéo-espagnol. The Hague-Paris: Mouton; Diaz-Mas, P. 1993. Los sefardies: historia, lenguay cultura. Barcelona: Riopiedras Ediciones, 2* ed. Sephiha, H. V. 1986. Le Judéo-espagnol. Paris: Ed. Entente. Coseriu, E. 1981. Lecdones de tingüisticageneral. Madrid: Gredos, 11.

El estado actual del judeo-espanol A raiz del bilingüismo pasivo, condicionado por una serie de factores sociales y culturales, en la actualidad nos encontramos con una lengua desplazada de todos los àmbitos, incluida la conciencia, salvo la de los ancianos que aún estiran la memoria suspirando en el viejo castellano. Pero el bilingüismo pasivo no se reduce solo a la comunidad sefardi. Este fenômeno caracteriza a todas las minorias balcânicas, consrituidas como tales, fuera de su pais de origen. Ante la situaciôn monolingüe de cada estado balcànico, las minorias no pueden alcanzar el bilingüismo activo de otros paises, por ejemplo, Suiza, Espana o, hace unos anos, en las repüblicas de la antigua Union Soviética. E n la Peninsula Ba1cánica, la comunidad rumana de la Dobrudzha meridional de Bulgaria practica bilingüismo pasivo, lo mismo que los bülgaros asentados en Grecia y Yugoslavia. E n la misma situaciôn se hallaban los turcos en Bulgaria hasta finales de los anos ochenta. Actualmente se initia un proceso de bilingüismo acrivo: la lengua turca vuelve a los colegios, a los medios de comunicaciôn, a los actos polidcos, culturales, etc. El desplazamiento de las épocas anteriores se va superando por el paralelismo entre el turco y el bulgaro no solo en la sociedad y en la cultura, sino también en la conciencia de los hablantes musulmanes. Con el judeo-espanol la situaciôn se ha venido agravando durante todo el siglo. Actualmente, hablando en términos posidvistas, se diria que présenta el estado de una lengua "muerta." Pero en realidad, las lenguas no mueren, pues no son seres vivientes, sino fenômenos sociales que no se desgastan con el uso. Con las lenguas ocurre todo lo contrario: cuanto más se emplean, adquieren mayor funciôn comunicativa, cognitiva y expresiva. Respecto a esta ultima, si podemos recurrir a una metáfora: cuanto más se dispone de sus posibilidades expresivas, mayor es el estado de esplendor que la lengua adquiere, y entonces decimos que está en su Siglo de Oro. También el judeo-espanol tuvo su siglo de gloria en derras balcânicas. Lamentablemente, el siglo XX es la época de su decadencia, causada por factores que tratamos a continuation.

Factores extralingiiisticos4 Son hechos sociales y culturales que, segûn las circunstancias, pueden repercutir positiva o negativamente en las correlaciones lengua-sociedad y lengua-cultura, respectivamente. 5 E n el caso del judeo-espanol, se trata del aspecto negativo que condiciona su desplazamiento y, con posterioridad, promueve su desapariciôn. El desplazamiento del judeo-espanol se initio en el àmbito social, luego afectô a la vida cultural y, por ûltimo, penetrô en la familia. Las principales fuerzas motrices de este proceso son sociolingüisdcas y etnolingüisticas. Los factores sociolingüisticos están en la base de la correlaciôn lenguacontexto social. Como medio de comunicaciôn y objeto del saber empirico, la

4 5

Sala, M. 1970. Estudios sobre eljudeo-espanol de Bucarest. México: U N AM, 28-65. Coseriu, E. 1981. "La socio- y la etnolingûistica: sus fundamentos y sus tareas." E n Anuario de Le/ras. Vol. XIX. México: Facultad de Filosofia y Letras (Centro de Lingüisdca Hispánica).

lengua se halla sincronizada social e histôricamente con sus hablantes, que la modifican conforme a sus necesidades comunicadvas y cognidvas. Pero si se presentan condicionantes objeuvos que obligan a los hablantes de la lengua A, a comunicarse en la sociedad por medio de la lengua B, la sincronia social e histôrica se altera. La lengua A empieza a retrasarse respecto al desarrollo social, mientras que sus usuarios recurren a las posibilidades de la lengua B. Asi, por ejemplo, después de la Liberaciôn, a raiz de la guerra ruso-turca de 1877-1878, la lengua bûlgara comenzô a desplazar pauladnamente el habla sefardi en el comercio, el sector bancario, la industria, la administraciôn, etc. Los cambios sociales no se reflejaban en el léxico judeo-espanol. Nada más que salir de su casa para entregarse a su ocupaciôn laboral, el sefardi cambiaba el habla espanola por la bûlgara, adoptândola como un compromiso libremente consenddo, y no impuesto desde fuera. Los cimientos sôlidos que antano sostenian la demarcation lingüistica entre bûlgaros y judios se vieron sofocados por el nuevo contexto social. El proceso de desplazamiento idiomâtico 11egaría a cobrar nuevas dimensiones al ser introducido el servicio militar obligatorio para todos los ciudadanos del joven estado bûlgaro. La permanencia en las filas del ejército resultô lo suficientemente larga como para que se produjera un cambio irreversible en la conciencia lingûisdca de la joven generaciôn judia. E n definidva, antes de llegar al ecuador de este siglo, el judeo-espaiiol ya no tenia cabida en el contexto social. Su funciôn comunicativa se redujo a los confines del hogar y de la sinagoga. Pero el proceso no se detuvo aqui. Muy pronto, también en esos lugares entrafiables y sagrados para la tradiciôn popular no tardaron en aparecer los signos del ocaso de la lengua sefardi. Los factores etnolingûisucos, vinculados a la idiosincrasia de la comunidad sefardi, también han dejado sus huellas en la correlation lengua-cultura. Los cambios en el àmbito cultural no son menos decisivos para el desarrollo dinámico del sistema lingüistico, ya que su realization en la practica hablada corresponde a las necesidades comunicativas, cognoscitivas y expresivas de la sociedad. Cualquier cambio en la cultura material y espiritual se refleja en la lengua, que se constituye en la conciencia humana en forma de saber idiomâtico y saber expresivo. 6 E n este sentido la lengua no es simplemente m o d o o forma de actualizar los valores culturales; "ella misma es cultura" (Hegel). Tal fue, grosso modo, el comportamiento del judeo-espanol durante los siglos de Sefarad-2. E n el transcurso de Sefarad-3, sobre todo en el periodo de entreguerras, aparecieron los primeros indicios del ocaso lingüistico. La ausencia de creaciones literarias, la desapariciôn de la prensa en ladino, el cierre de los colegios judios, el ateismo de la juventud y los matrimonios mixtos, entre otros, fueron los factores que modificaron la correlation judeoespanol-cultura sefardi. E n estas circunstancias, los cambios culturales resultaron más negativos para el componente lingüistico que los sociales. Mientras éstos redujeron el judeo-espanol al àmbito familiar y ritual, aquéllos protagonizaron la brecha más grave y profunda en la tradiciôn sefardi.

6

Coseriu, E. Lecaones..., 312.

Factores intralingüisticos7 Estos factores constituyen la tercera correlaciôn, cambio-funcionamiento, esto es diacronia-sincronia. Se trata de la esencia misma de la lengua: un sistema en movimiento, abierto a la conciencia de sus hablantes. La relaciôn entre los dos aspectos de la realidad lingüistica es de dominio mutuo: la lengua no es primero cambio y luego fiincionamiento, o viceversa, sino que es en todo momento un sistema que cambia funcionando o funciona cambiando. El transcurso simultàneo de ambos procesos se lleva a cabo en el marco de la comunicaciôn. El hablante no créa estructuras lingüisdcas a priori, sino en el curso de la comunicaciôn, realizada en forma de diâlogo. El uso de la lengua en el diâlogo impone el cambio (creation y re-creaciôn de unidades significativas) en funciôn de las necesidades, sociales y culturales, de los implicados en la comunicaciôn; y el funcionamiento se ve respaldado y asegurado por el cambio conrinuo de la lengua. En definiriva, el cambio y el funcionamiento se suponen mutuamente. La alteraciôn de esta interdependencia conduce a la trans formaciôn de la lengua de un sistema dinâmico y abierto en un producto estârico y cerrado. Este fue el proceso que experimentô el judeo-espanol durante el periodo de Sefarad-3. Los factores externos provocaron su desplazamiento del contexto social y del àmbito cultural, y los internos actuaron negadvamente en su m o d o de existir, conditionando su inevitable desapariciôn de la comunicaciôn socio-verbal. E n la actualidad el judeo-espanol ha perdido su funciôn inherente, pues, como bien senala Coseriu, "la lengua muere cuando deja de cambiar." E n nuestra opinion, el desplazamiento y la desapariciôn del habla sefardi proporcionan la problemârica que debe abordar la Judeohispanologia, en colaboraciôn con la Sociolingiiistica, la Etnolingiiisrica y la Teoria del lenguaje.

Tipos de solidaridad lingüistica8 A diferencia de otros fenômenos sociales (algunos ni siquiera denen desrinatario concreto), la lengua surge y se desarrolla exclusivamente en la sociedad, proporcionando al hablante la posibilidad de informar a alguien (o a toda la comunidad) acerca de algo. Ello significa que el hablante siempre supone la presencia de un oyente. Es decir, la conciencia del sujeto está abierta a la conciencia de los demás y, al mismo riempo, se ajusta a la tradiciôn lingüistica. Por tanto, la funciôn comunicativa de la lengua implica doble solidaridad: por un lado, entre los miembros de la comunidad y, por otro, entre el hablante y la tradiciôn lingüistica; esto es solidaridad sincrônica y solidaridad diacrônica. El caso concreto con el judeo-espanol nos lleva a la esencia de la solidaridad sincrônica. E n el marco de una comunidad concreta, la funciôn comunicativa de la lengua se manifïesta en su aspecto positivo. Pero si se examina como factor demarcativo con respecto a otra comunidad, esa misma comunicaciôn se perfila

7

8

Coseriu, E. 1973. (3* ed.) Sincronia, diacronia e historia (El problema del cambio lingiiistico). Madrid: Gredos. idem, 1977. "Sincronia, diacronia y apologia." En El hombre y su lenguaje. Madrid: Gredos,. 186-200. Coseriu, E. "La socio- y la etnolingiiisrica...," 15-18.

como negativa, es decir divisoria entre los hablantes con disdntas lenguas. Esta doble funciôn tuvo el judeo-espanol hasta las postrimerias de la pasada centuria. Los sefardies permanecian integrados, social y culturalmente, en el marco de sus sinagogas, y se desmarcaban de sus vecinos por la lengua, traida de Espana. Tras la constitution de los estados balcânicos durante el ultimo cuarto del siglo XIX, la comunicaciôn positiva y, a la vez, primaria—que podemos llamar también originaria—entre los miembros de las comunidades judias, comenzô a estrechar su radio de action. Entre los sefardies se venia instalando un nuevo tipo de comunicaciôn, también positiva, pero a diferencia de la primaria, que les pertenecia histôricamente, la nueva forma de hablar era adoptada, es decir, secundaria. Ahora bien, conforme con las condiciones en que se produce el desplazamiento de una lengua por otra, la comunicaciôn adoptada puede ser auténtica o ficticia. Esta ultima, segûn indica el propio término, es aparente y se manifiesta como una reaction natural contra la imposition forzosa de la lengua extranjera. E n la adoption auténtica, sin embrago, los miembros de una comunidad admiten la lengua de sus vecinos como una necesidad libremente consentida, convirtiéndola en sistema de una nueva comunicaciôn positiva, que implica solidaridad sincrônica. Esta transition lingüistica hemos podido comprobarla en la comunidad sefardi de Bulgaria: de la comunicaciôn primaria, en judeo-espanol, se ha llegado paulatinamente a la secundaria, también auténrica, en bûlgaro. La lograda solidaridad entre sefardies y la lengua oficial del estado llegô a ser la premisa principal para la ulterior integration social y cultural. E n este orden, lo dicho por Nissim Mevorah, hace más de très décadas, viene a confirmar los procesos de Sefarad-3: ... hasta hace unos veinte anos, en nuestro pais vivian cerca de 50 mil judios: hombres, mujeres, ninos, trabajadores pobres, ricos fabricantes, artesanos, vendedores ambulantes, que habian llegado a Bulgaria de disdntos paises y en diferentes siglos, hallando aqui buena acogida y un trato humano. Después de la Liberaciôn se les reconociô como ciudadanos de plenos e iguales derechos y vivian con las alegrias y las penas del pueblo bûlgaro. Durante anos, la vida de esta minoria judia, al amparo de una Constituciôn progresista, transcurria con toda normalidad en medio de un pueblo de lo mâs tolerante y hospitalario. Hoy en dia, 45 mil judios bùlgaros viven y trabajan en las ciudades y aldeas de Israel. Pero su vida anterior, junto con la de sus antepasados, constituye una parte de la historia de Bulgaria, de la que han conservado no solo la lengua, sino también una profunda e incurable nostalgia. Por muy extrano que parezca, nuestros judios en Israel no se denominan entre si sino bûlgaros. 9

Esta confesiôn resta todo sentido a las afirmaciones de un supuesto nacionalismo o de una integration forzosa, sufrida por los sefardies en Bulgaria.10

9

10

Mevorah, N. 1968. "Introducciôn." E n Godishnik (Anuario). Sofia: Organizaciôn Cultural de los Judios en Bulgaria, 7-8. Besso, H. V. 1970. "Decadencia del judeo-espanol." E n Adas de11 Simposio de estudios sefardies, Madrid: CSIC, 253.

La tolerancia religiosa Desde su llegada a derras balcânicas, los sefardies nunca han atentado contra la religion de sus vecinos. Tampoco ha habido manifestaciones con el signo contrario. El hecho de ser uno judio, y el otro cristiano o musulmân, no ha sido modvo de desprecio, sino de tolerancia. Es más, las escasas c o n c e n t r a t i o n s de grupos radicales ultraderechistas durante la ultima condenda mundial no han podido echar raices de xenofobia. Hoy en dia, junto a las catedrales y mezquitas ejercen su oficio las sinagogas; lo mismo que al lado de los camposantos crisdanos y musulmanes se sitúan las moradas eternas de los sufridos hijos de Israel, con inscripciones lapidarias en caractères hebreos, ladnos ο cirilicos." E n resumen, primero, la solidaridad lingüistica y la tolerancia religiosa son las caracteristicas relevantes de Sefarad-3. Segundo, respecto a los conceptos etnolingüisticos y religiosos, todo parece indicar que, después de un largo viaje en el tiempo y en el espacio, el punto de regreso coincide con el punto de partida; a saber: a) los que abandonaron la antigua Judea, tras la destruction del Templo, no eran sino judios, sin más; b) ellos y sus hijos permanecieron siglos bajo el alero de Sefarad, del que tomaron su nombre y su lengua, haciéndola suya; c) hoy en dia, los descendientes lejanos de aquellos sefardies no han dejado de ser judios, pero al mismo tiempo insisten en que son "rumanos," "bùlgaros," "griegos," etc., es decir, se identifican con su religion y con la lengua de su cuna balcânica; d) por ultimo, los que regresaron a la tierra prometida siguen recordando su hogar en la diàspora, como lo afirma Nissim Mevorah, pero sus hijos, nacidos en Israel, declaran, como los que salieron de Judea, hace ya 2000 anos, que son simplemente judios.

1

Moscona, I. 1971. "About one of the Components of the Language Judezmo." En Annual of the Social Cultural and Educational Association of the Jews in Bulgaria. VI, Sofia, 179-220.

T H E FATE OF G R E E K SEPHARDIC CULTURAL PERSONALITIES IN T H E H O L O C A U S T YITZCHAK KEREM Aristotle University, Thessaloniki, Greece

T h e fate of the Sephardic ardsts and cultural personalides is little known. Most were annihilated in the Holocaust, but a few managed to survive. Their deaths caused an irreplaceable loss for Sephardic culture and the few survivors could not reactivate the pre-World War T w o Judeo-Spanish theater, literature, balladry, and musical composition and performance. This paper will highlight the contributions of leading Sephardic cultural figures w h o were annihilated by the Nazis and the WWII activities of those that survived. In Salonika, most of the actors of the Judeo-Spanish theater were annihilated by the Nazis in Auschwitz-Birkenau. The noted musical composers Isaac (Artzi) Sion, Avraham Barzilay, and conductor Sadik Gershon shared a similar fate. Salonika's religious singing groups "Hallel VeZimra' and "Nairn Zemirot," of which the latter was headed by the Hassan (cantor) Avraham Aharon Barzilay, were active in performing and publishing religious poetry until the Holocaust. 1 Isaac Sion composed the music for the Betar activist Shlomo Reuvain's dramatic production of "Ester" performed on Purim of 1932 in the framework of the B'nai Mizrahi youth movement in Salonika. Beforehand, he had composed the music for Charles Gattegno's "Ester" performed in Salonika in 1926. Sion, born in Monastir, lived in Salonika since his childhood. H e taught music in a number of schools and in Salonika he had an admired reputation as a composer. H e composed tunes for performances and anthems of the various Jewish youth movements like Betar and Maccabi. W h e n he was sent to Auschwitz, he played in the male orchestra that accompanied Jews to the crematorium. Another Salonikan member of the orchestra, Dr. Albert Menashe, was a witness as a musician to the sending of his own daughter Lilian, who also played in female orchestra in Birkenau, to the gas chambers on 3 September 1943; as well as the death of Isaac-Artzi Sion on that same day since he no longer was in condition to play.2 Barzilay, together with the poet Yitzhak de Boton, had composed the unique 170 page Ladino book El Incendio, commemorating the famous 1917 fire of Salonika. Published two years after the fire, their Ladino poems, accompanied 1

2

Recanati, D. A. ed. 1986. Zikhron Saloniki II. Tel Aviv: T h e Committee for the Publication of the Salonikan Jewish Community Memorial Book, 337-358. Alexander, T. and Weich-Shahk, Sh. 1993. En este tiempo (Esther 4,14), Drama musical para Purim de Salônica. (Span, and Hebr.) Tel Aviv: Institute para la Investigacion del Judaismo de Salônica and Editorial Ofir, 8 - 9 , 18-19. See also Menashe, A. 1988. "Birkenau—Memories of a Witness." (Hebr.) In Greek ]ewy In The Holocaust, Memoirs. Tel Aviv: The Salonika Jewry Research Center, 173-229.

even by a Hebrew poem, provided valuable historical depictions of the events of the fire. Their poems carried an optimistic message about the community's resurrection, and reflected the popular zeal and spirit of the emerging local Zionist movement; striving for a return to Zion. 3 As conductor and teacher of "Nairn Zemirot" from 1926 to 1935, he composed many melodies and liturgical hymns. The pamphlet Nairn Zemirot that appeared in 1929 on the third anniversary of the paytanic group "Nairn Zemirot" was edited by Baruch ben Yaakov, a teacher and h a ^ a n at the Kal "Italia Yashan." The songs from the work were sung by the group at the Monasterlis Synagogue. Previously, in 1927, Baruch and Talmud Torah "Gadol" principal Yaakov Cohen composed several fastis (several verses in the same Makani) and published them in the form of a pamphlet enrided Fasti Nichamnd. They were performed at the Beit Shaul Synagogue at the reestablishment ceremony of the paytanic group "Hallel VeZimra." The music was composed by the above noted Jewish Salonikan composer Sadik Nehama Gershon. 4 Through the inspiration of the latter and his training groups of singers, other singing groups formed in the Regie Vardar and Kalamaria areas. Weekly on Shabbat and Sunday, Sadik Gershon trained the paytanim. He was also very instrumental in the publication of pamphlets by the group in the late 1920s and early 1930s. 5 As head conductor and principal teacher of "Hallel Vezimra" from 1928 to 1939, the talented Gershon also made a great contribution, with his great knowledge of Turkish music, in the transmission of the traditional Ottoman makams to the younger generation of local Sephardic Jews in the modern Greek Statehood period of Salonikan Jewish history; until most of its culture was destroyed in the Holocaust. Playing oud for a living in coffee houses throughout the city, he also composed many popular Judeo-Spanish folksongs. According to the research of Shoshana Weich Shahak, Sadik Gershon and Moshe Cazes helped further develop the Sephardic tango. Under the pseudonym Sadik and Gasos, they published brochures "aljamiadas" under the tide Cantos populäres in 1924—1925 that included musical transcriptions. The musical productions produced by Sadik Gershon accompanied by Moshe Cazes popularized gready these tango tunes. 6 Baruch ben Yaakov, was an erudite religious and enlightened Salonikan haham, who was born in Salonika in 1886 and died in Birkenau after being deported in the spring of 1943 with his wife, a son, and a daughter. Fortunately, he was survived by another daughter and two other sons who migrated to EretzIsrael and reside in Tel Aviv. Ben Yaakov studied in the Talmud Torah under the modern enlightened rabbi Ottolenghi, and continued his studies at the Beit Midrash "Beit Yosef." Educated in modern literature, and French, he held par3

4

5 6

Refael, Sh. 1998. "Los Cantes del Incendio—The Great Fire of the Year 1917 in Saloniki and its Reflection in Popular Judeo-Spanish poetry" (Hebr.). In Ladinar, Research in Literature, Music, and the History of the Ladino Speakers. Ed. Y. Dishon and Sh. Refael. Tel Aviv: The Center for the Research of Salonikan Jewry, 93-117. Seroussi, E. 1998. "Classical O t t o m a n Music Amongst Salonikan Jewry" (Hebr.). In Dishon and Refael 1998: 79-91. Recanati 1986: 351-352, 362. Weich-Shahak, Sh. 1995. "Le tango sefarade." In Tango nomade, Etudes sur te tango transcultureL Ed. R. Pelinski. Montreal: Triptyque, 255-269.

ocular interest in the peoples of the Mediterranean and Jewish history. O n e of the founders of the culture Hebrew "Kadimah" society, he had a great interest in the dissemination of the Hebrew language and Hebrew literature. He continued the traditions of Rabbis Yehuda Nehama and David Pipano to write about the history of the Jews of Salonika, copied many tombstones in the ancient cemetery before it was destroyed at the command of the Nazis in December 1942, and published various textbooks for the Talmud Torah; as well as many articles in the Hebrew presses of Warsaw and Eretz-Israel. This talented individual also wrote an acrostic Hebrew poem entided Shir Zahav ("The Golden Poem 1 ') for former Salonikan Chief Rabbi and Eretz-Israel Rishon Letzion, Rabbi Yaakov Meir, on the occasion of his eightieth birthday. He also kept up an active correspondence with Jewish personalities like Max Nordau, whom he discussed the issue of the Spanish anusim (crypto-Jews). His modest personality was a combination of traditional religious and modernistic in secular themes. 7 When he was sent to Portugal at the invitation of Barros Basto in 1930—1931 to be rabbi of the newly emerging community for the crypto-Jews returning to Judaism, he clashed with Basto and the Jewish community of Lisbon. He had no patience for the loose practicing Jews and doubted the authendeity of the crypto-Jews; as well as Basto's yeshiva. Whereas, Basto was impressed by Ben Yaakov's initial enthusiasm, the latter had no patience for the new communities in Porto and Braganza and refused to commit himself to the challenge for the long-term. 8 Ben Yaakov took advantage of his journey to Portugal to research the crypto-Jews and their communities, but never wanted to overcome his silence on the issue and publish his findings. However, he did write brief accounts of his trip, and details about the anusim and their customs in 1931 in the Pessah issue of the local Mizrachi movement's annual "El Jidyo" and in the B'nai Brith publication Menora published in Istanbul. 9 Unfortunately, Ben Yaakov took many of his observations about the anusim with him to Birkenau and never revealed them before his death. The great Salonikan paytanim did manage to pass their tradition on to a younger generation, graduates of "Hillel Vezimra" and "Nairn Zemirot," who in their youth moved to Tel Aviv in the 1930s and were part of the newly formed "Shirei Zion" group of Paytanim. Worthy of mention, are Yosef Hazan, David Najari, Yitzhak Petilion, Shaul Angel, and Yosef Hazan, most of whom belonged to the one of either of the two groups of paytanim in Salonika and who were active in the "Shirei Zion" group of paytanim in Tel Aviv; as well as the former Salonikan paytan group members and basgantm Moshe Hanan, Tuvi Soustiel, David Nehama and Hananel Hassid who carried on the paytanic tradition in Salonikan and other Sephardic synagogues in Tel Aviv.10 About a fourth of both the male and female orchestras in AuschwitzBirkenau were composed of Salonikan Jews. 7

Recanati 1986: 464-465. D e Azevedo Mea, E. and Steinhardt, I. 1997. Ben-Kosh, Biografia Do Capitao Barros Basto Ο Apostolo Dos Marranos. Porto: Edicoes Afrontamiento, 110. 9 Menora (1931), Istanbul, 204. 1° Recanad 1986: 360-362. 8

Szymon Laks described the following tragic description related to the Salonikan flurist Dr. Menashe: During the concert of Sunday afternoon, Dr. Menashe played with great inspiradon and did not see the line of trucks passing in front of him. The trucks, loaded with women, disappeared beyond the bend on their way to the gas chambers. O n one of those trucks was the daughter of the doctor. 11

Menashe, himself, described the busy Sunday for the orchestra. While the other prisoners partially rested, the musicians accompanied the Commando to work from 6 a.m. to 7 a.m., performed for the German oppressors at 9 a.m., had to finish cleaning jobs by 2 p.m. in time for their concert for the prisoners. 12 The daily roudne for the male orchestra members consisted of playing for the Bloc Fuhrer from 5:30 to 6:00 a.m., and then playing for another 45 minutes in minus twenty degree (centigrade) weather as 12,000 prisoners marched to work. The penalty for stopping to play was a painful 25 lashes. They also witnessed the prisoners being beaten for not marching in tempo with the pace. Then the orchestra members returned their instruments to their barracks, changed from their musical uniforms to their prisoner clothes, and went to work as carpenters, tailors, and shoemakers; usually easier tasks than the heavy labor assigned to most of the other Jewish prisoners. They finished work at 4 p.m. and prepared to musically accompany the prisoners returning from work at 5 p.m. Menashe and the other orchestra members had to witness this horrid scene as the Commandos returned from work to their Lagger: Each C o m m a n d o would either carry their dead behind them on improvised stretchers, or, more often, drag them by their arms or legs. This procession marched to the rhythm set by the orchestra. It was a tragic sight. There were evenings when as many as thirty dead were brought in, overcome by cold or fatigue, and above all by the treatment received at the hands of the Capos. There were also a considerable number of wounded. 1 3

Once in the middle of a Sunday afternoon concert, out of the blue, to the delight of the Bloc Fuhrer, the orchestra members had to stop playing, change into their work clothes, and were subjected to strenuous exercises and tortures in the hot sun. After the conductor fainted, one of the musicians was brutally beaten for trying to help him, and the tortures continued for several rounds, the musicians were ordered to change back into their musical; uniforms and continue performing their concert. The musicians, like the other prisoners, also constandy lived with the death threat hanging over their heads. If the S.S. men killed prisoners escaping, they brought the dead body or bodies back to the camp. "They were propped up in chairs in a half-circle facing 11

12

13

Strumza, J. 1995. And You Chose Life, From Saloniki to Jerusalem By Way of Auschwitz and Paris (Hebr.). Tel Aviv: T h e Insdtute for the Research of Salonikan Jewry, 43-44. See also Laks, S. 1989. Music of Another World. Evanston: Northwestern University Press. Menashe, A. 1988. "Birkenau—Memories of a Witness" (Hebr.). In Greek Jewry in the Holocaust, Memoirs, Tel Aviv: The Institute of Salonikan Jewry, 175-229. Menashe, A. 1947. Birkenau (Auschwitz II), (Memoirs of an eye-witness) How 72,000 Greek Jews Perished. N e w York: Isaac Salriel, 31-38.

the orchestra. All the Commandos filed past the cadavers while the orchestra played marches." 14 The Salonikan engineer and violinist Jacques Strumza was in the orchestra for about a month before he was transferred to the Unionwerke Factory of the Buna Camp (Auschwitz III) as an engineer. 15 Salonikan male musicians like Michel Assael who had professional training in musical conservatories in Salonika before the Holocaust. In the men's orchestra in Auschwitz he played accordion. Michel recalled that there were 8 Salonikan Jewish men, out of a total of 30-35, in the male orchestra. Beside himself and the aforemendoned flutist Dr. Menashe, there was Solomon Cohen; Isaac Cohen, a professional violinist, who was very sick when evacuated from Auschwitz; a trombonist named Uziel; the violinist Solomon Mano, who setded and passed away in Australia after the war; Beresi; and Peppo Gattegno, who returned to Salonika after the war. 16 O n one occasion, Michel was caught stealing a cup of jelly and was given 25 lashes. Even though he could hardly move, he was still compelled to go play with the orchestra; as well as working. Michel Assael's sister, Lili Assael^ suffered in the female orchestra as an accordionist. Disdained by the conductor Alma Rose, Gustav Mahler's niece, she suffered much punishment, anguish, and shame. Lili was in the front and stood out with her large accordion. This and the fact that Lili answered back to Alma, irritated gready the temperamental conductor. Alma frequently reminded Lili that if she had not been in the orchestra, she would have suffered the fate of death as the Greek and other Jews very often faced. Lili was hit by Alma many times, but the latter would apologize. Alma even through her baton at Lili and hit her in the eye. Alma reminded Lili that if she would find a better accordion player, she would send Lili to the crematorium, but fortunately for Lili, as opposed to others, it never happened. Lili's younger sister Yvette played the double bass in the women's orchestra and led a gentile life after the war in New York. Yvette was only fifteen when she arrived in Auschwitz. Fania Fenelon, who joined the women's orchestra in 1944, described how a tall prisoner, a musician from the men's orchestra, arrived to give Yvette a music lesson and she "was dwarfed by the large instrument." 17 Three times a week, she was given lessons. Once the man brought her brother, Michel, to the lesson to visit her. This was a risky act since men were not permitted to talk to the women. Fania referred to Lili and Yvette as the "litde Greeks." She also mentioned a Greek Jewish woman in the orchestra named Julie. In an atmosphere of tension, prèssure, and threats, the Greek and other Jewish women were targets of aggression by the conductor, and Nazi officials. In this unfortunate atmosphere, the Greek Jewish girls often exchanged epithets, taunts, and insults with the other women in the orchestra. As the Russians approached, the women of the orchestra were sent to the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp in Germany, but they did not play there. Lili broke her leg, was hospitalized, and was extremely weak when returning to the barracks from the lack of food. Yvette managed to work in the 14 15 16 17

Menashe 1947: 38. Strumza 1995: 38-41, 44-45. Interview with Michael (Michel) Assael, New York City, 18 November 1992. Fenelon F. with Routier, M. 1977. Ρ layingfor Time. New York: Atheneum, 72-73, 78, 80.

kitchen in Bergen Belsen and bring Lili food. Irma Gressel, the beasdy female assistant to Auschwitz commander Kramer, loved Lili since she appreciated her music in Auschwitz. By the time Lili was sick in Bergen Belsen, she requested that Yvette request Irma's intervendon in order to bring food for Lili, but Irma didn't recognize Yvette and beat her when approached by her in request of the favor. After the liberadon by the British, Yvette caught dysentery after eating a piece of rat-infested cheese she found in the barracks. Lili saved her younger sister by making a concoction of charcoal and coffee to treat her. In the women's orchestra, Dr. Menashe's seventeen year-old daughter, Lilian, played drums for a short time. There were also two Salonikan Julies. O n e was the future wife of Dr. Menashe, who played mandoline. She once sent a message to her brother, who was in the male orchestra, who was detected for this, put into confinement, and executed. The other was Julie Strumza, who played violin. Lili Assael recalled that Julie Strumza was in the hospital with typhus and intentionally made the thermometer indicate a low temperature in order to avoid the death selection. Julie returned to the music rehearsal with a small fever. Julie left and went to lie in bed, but Alma caught her and grabbed her hair. According to Lili, Alma discriminated against the Greek and Polish Jewesses, but loved and tolerated the German Jewish women. 1 8 Lili also estimated that there were between 8 - 1 0 Salonikan Jewish women in the women's orchestra. The Holocaust interrupted gready the collection of romansas and Sephardic balladry. Albert Hemsi in Cairo was so devastated at the annihilation of informants, musicians, and singers from Rhodes, Salonika and elsewhere that he previously knew before the Holocaust, that he stopped composing and collecting Judeo-Spanish musical material for years. Seroussi characterized Hemsi's break in his work in light of the Holocaust in the following paragraph: In the years following WWII, Hemsi was deeply affected by the destruction of the Sephardi communities in Greece and Rhodes, the backdrop for most of his fieldwork, and lost all incentive for continuing his work. The resumption of his post-war activities in Egypt was apparendy encouraged by his long-time friend, the Spanish composer and historian, Jose Subira. ... According to Subira, Hemsi no longer desired to proceed with his research of folk-songs, composing only instrumental pieces such as the suites Egipcia and Sefardie, and the Poema biblico. In response to Hemsi's letters, Subira encouraged him to persevere with his labors. 19

At the end of the 1940s and beginning of the 1950s researchers resumed or began collecting romances from the past, but very few original Judeo-Spanish cultural, theatrical, and musical productions would be created and performed in the aftermath of the Holocaust that annihilated much of Sephardic Jewry. The Yugoslavian Sephardim had a much greater political awareness and ideological orientation toward the leftist-leaning Communist resistance move-

18 19

Interview with Lili Assael, New York City, 19 March 1990. Seroussi, E. ed. 1995. Alberto Hemsi, Cancionero sefardi. Yuval Series 4. Jerusalem: T h e Jewish Music Research Centre, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 32.

ments than did Salonikan Jewry. For this reason, more Yugoslavian Sephardic intellectuals and artists were organized and resisted than did their Salonikan counterparts. Since most of Yugoslavian Jewry was annihilated internally in concentration camps, they had had different experiences than Salonikan Jewry who suffered in the death camps and gas chambers. Whereas Yugoslavian artists were much more secular and leaned toward the resistance, the Salonikan cultural personalities were much more traditional and left their fate with their close-knit families to the Nazi German regime who had deceived them into believing that they were being sent to Crackow to work. Whereas, the senior personalities like Gershon, Sion, and Barzilay died in the gas chambers of Birkenau, many of the younger paytanim were fortunate to move to Tel Aviv in the thirties and survive. Since they were not deported to the death camps, Bulgaria's Sephardic cultural personalities were left out of this study, but many were active in the resistance, sent to forced labor, and immigrated to Eretz-Israel where they were acrive in theater, music, and other forms of the arts. Much of the culture was lost when these above leading artistic personalities, and their students and fellow organizarion and movement members were killed by the Nazis. Even though several Yugoslavian authors and arrists survived, cultural proliferation was not the same since the overwhelming majority of the Jewish communities had by annihilated by the Nazis and their allies. Vis-a-vis Holocaust studies, with its top-heavy accentuation of Ashkenazic attributes, this study enters into the historiography a new element—that of Sephardic cultural life; which also was gready dampered by the Holocaust. Unfortunately, the Nazi Final Solution successfully wiped out the heart of the thriving Sephardic communities in the Balkans; which had existed since the era of the Iberian cxpulsions in the late 15th and early 16th centuries.

E L DICCIONARIO

JUDEO-ESPANOL-BÙLGARO

DE

A L B E R T P I P A N O COMO TESTIMONIO LEXICOGRÀFICO DORA N . MANTCHEVA Bulgaria El diccionario bilingüe judeo-espanol-bulgaro, "composado de" Albert Pipano y editado por Rahamim Simonov en la imprimeria Nadesda de Sofia, se publico con el propôsito de "ser tenido en la mesa de cada mercader" (p.[v]).1 Después de las guerras balcânicas las lenguas nacionales de los estados de la peninsula se convierten en lenguas no solo oficiales sino también de prestigio, y su buen conocimiento se hace imprescindible para el éxito de las acdvidades diarias de los judios. C o m o el autor senala en su prefacio, resultaba que "algunos hablan sin escribirlo bulgar, grego o serbo, ma un dialecto muy corompido y muy poco entendible [...]. Ansi es que remedios urgentes deben ser buscados porque estos )idiôs no se topen más peor de los mudos, no sean obligados a atarsen las manos y cerarsen la boca hasta embezar la lengua que el pais ocupante [de Tracia y Macedonia] traye con si (p[iv])." Segûn déclara el editor en el suyo, fue concebido c o m o primero de una serie de dos diccionarios (el otro séria bûlgaro-judeo-espanol), pero nos ha quedado como muestra ûnica de la lexicografïa sefardi en Bulgaria de los inicios de nuestro siglo. Lo que presento aqui es un andcipo del detallado estudio del Diccionario de Albert Pipano que he iniciado y cuyo primer paso será la edition del texto integro para uso de romanistas, balcanôlogos, eslavistas, etc. Albert Pipano, que era comerciante de tejidos, destacô por su pardcipaciôn en la vida social y sus obras de caridad. Fue miembro del comité directivo del Orfanato de Sofia para ninos judios y colaborador de la asociaciôn de Sofia para la erection de una biblioteca. Rahamim Simonov desarrollo una labor muy activa como editor de libros, periôdicos y revistas. Su casa editorial publico varios jurnales, sobre todo literarios, entre los que cabe seiialar La Lu%. D e los libros quizás lo más destacable sean las varias ediciones de copias y romances de Ya'acob Yonà de Salônica. 2

1

2

Para la transcripciôn del texto aljamiado me atengo a las normas de Sefarad. Los cambios intruducidos en la puntuaciôn y la segmentaciôn léxica están de acuerdo con la ortografia actual del espanol. Datos sobre À. Pipano y R. Simonov y sus acdvidades se encuentran en Gaon 1964—5: 16, 36, 70, 107, 116 e indice onomâsdco; Yaari 1934: 108; Keschales 1973: 34-35, 42-43, 50-51, 56-57, 62, 65; Enciclopedia: col. 333 y 719. D e los romancerillos y las ediciones de copias del salonicense Y. Yonâ ha quedado constancia también en BAECS y Armistead & Silverman 1971. Quisiera expresar especial agradecimiento a mi maestro I. M. Hassan por haber llenado mis lagunas en lo que a datos de fuentes hebraicas (y extra-hebraicas) se refiere, y a quien debo tanto la inicial apariciôn en mis manos del Diccionario de Pipano como la revision final de este primer estudio del texto.

El Diccionario consta de 188 páginas en cuarto menor (ca. 11x14 cm), distribuidas en 8 initiales sin numéros (aqui en romanillos), 160 numeradas, otras 16 finales numeradas al pie (1-16) y 4 de cubiertas (seguramente en cartulina). Condene los dos aludidos Prefacios (ps. [iii-v] y [vi]), anuncio publicitario en bûlgaro de la imprenta "Nadesda" y en judeo-espanol del semanal La Lu^ (con sendas páginas), un corpus de 3490 entradas (ps. 1-125), un prontuario turisdco (ps. 126159), un apéndice de 23 entradas léxicas adicionales (p.160) y veindûn anuncios publicitarios (ps.1-16 de la segunda numeraciôn); amén de ocho "páginas editoriales" que condenen: portada (p.[i] y l a de cubiertas), anuncio de La L » ^ ( 2 a de cubiertas), tabla de caractères cirilicos y hebreos (p.[ii]), una lista de numéros cardinales y ordinales (ps.7-8) y anuncios de la imprenta Nadesda (3 a y 4 a de cubiertas). Aparte los Prefacios, que en mayor medida son testimonios historico-culturales, la fuente de datos de interés lexicogrâfico y en general lingûisdco es lo meollar del Diccionario: el CORPUS léxico, el PRONTUARIO y los ANUNCIOS. 1. El C O R P U S del Dicàonario está organizado en très columnas. En la de la derecha, por orden alefàrico, están ordenadas las palabras judeo-espanolas escritas en aljamia en caractères rasies. En la de la izquierda aparece su traduction al bûlgaro escrita en caractères cirilicos. La columna central condene la transcripciôn—o mejor transliteration—en letra aljamiada de dichas traducciones al bûlgaro. El corpus demuestra una labor previa concienzuda: es obvio que es el résultado de un largo proceso de recopilaciôn de datos lingûisdcos. Las traducciones al bûlgaro están casi perfectamente bien escogidas. Para muchos casos el autor ha sabido encontrar una voz de raiz eslava en vez de poner nada más el culdsmo "international," cf. absurd - 6e3CMUCJ1uqa, administrar - jnpaejineaM etc. Se puede afirmar sin lugar a dudas que Pipano—como hombre letrado que era y con aficiôn especial a los trabajos filolôgicos—se sirviô de un diccionario bûlgaro ideolôgico (probablemente el de Naiden Guérov) para la columna de las voces bûlgaras. El Diccionario demuestra un hâbil manejo de fuentes escritas y un dominio libresco impecable del bûlgaro: a veces el autor propone dos significados bûlgaros para una palabra judeoespafiola y a veces la diferencia es solo de matiz, cf. ajuntar — npu6aeaM, cb6upaM; avergiienyado — 3acpaMen, nocpoMen etc., para citar unos ejemplos de las primeras très páginas.

E n el citado "Prefaz" Pipano—con demasiada modesda—dice: " E n verdad, es muy hasardoso de dar este nombre [de "Diccionario"] a un recogimiento de unos cuantos vierbos, no cumplidos, no completados, tornados de aqui y de alli, al hasardo de lo que la memoria puede acodrarse" (p.[iv]). Es asombroso que escriba tal cosa, ya que para cualquier investigador es patente que el autor se ha servido—y bien—de textos escritos. Sin embargo, la falta de experiencia en la redacciôn de diccionarios ha causado una de las insuficiencias más graves de la obra: Pipano no senala el género de los sustandvos ni las formas irreguläres de los paradigmas verbales. Abundan las palabras abstractas y / o cultas y en cambio faltan otras concretas de uso frecuendsimo. Asi el corpus recoge idolatria, eternidad, elocuente, epigraf, barômetro entre otros, en cambio no aparecen quedar, papel etc.

N o es esperable creer que en una fuente textual tan moderna se puedan encontrar muchas formas raras y ni hablar de hápaxes; sin embargo, el Diccionario de Pipano registra voces sefardies que son de interés por una u otra razôn. Se han conservado palabras espanolas como anchar "ensanchar(se)," entojos "anteojos, gafas," consideradas tradicionalmente como muestra del carácter arcaizante del espanol sefardi (una opinion que yo personalmente no comparto, pero esto es harina de otro costal). E n otros casos más numerosos el judeo-espanol se ha mostrado innovador e ingenioso. Asi las entradas aventador y asuplador^ "abanico," que son sinônimas, por lo visto son respecdvamente un calco del fr. éventail· y una formation independiente, ya que Nehama no recoge tal significado s.v. asoplador. N o aparecen en el Diccionario de Nehama las palabras (h)echuela "hacha," 5 alicenciar "permitir," hambierto (en Nehama ambryento y fabrento), godror (en Nehama godrura). La palabra armada "tropas, ejército" tiene una ampliation del significado con respecto al uso espanol y sefardi. Otras denen un significado diferente de las espanolas modernas, cf. babas "judias," grulla "cigüena," gnllo "mariposa" (frente a la preciosa chicbigalla "grillo"). A la arriba citada pareja de sinônimos asuplador / aventador se. pueden anadir estivaletos / botines y vedrugo / djelatb entre otras, que también vienen a comprobar que el judeo-espanol sofiota de inicios del siglo presentaba las caracterîsdcas léxicas de cualquier otra lengua. Su sistema funcionaba y la prueba de ello es, por ejemplo, la manera de adoptar los préstamos del francés. Los nombres masculinos reciben la caracteristica formai explicita -0: buqueto, billeto, etc. Hay conciencia lingüistica de los prefijos particulates, asi de- aparece como des- en desve/opamiento (con posible cruce con el italiano) ο desmolar. Hay todo un grupo de palabras abstractas de género femenino, mayoritariamente helenismos cultos, terminadas en francés en -ie que el idioma sefardi adopta cambiando la desinencia en -ία, fâcilmente identifiables por la acentuaciôn discrepante de la espanola (que ge-neralmente repite la griega), cf. anemia, barbaría, industria, enciclopedia etc. Palabras como amienda "multa" o impiegado "empleado" demuestran la existencia de "leyes fonéticas" y la vitalidad del sistema, ya que los préstamos de dife-rente procedencia se someten a cambios regularizadores. El sistema dispone de recursos para la formation de palabras nuevas, siempre que haya una casilia vacia para la innovation; asi alfabeto con el significado de "alfabético" es el adjetivo de alfabet; verbo (con b oclusiva) es "verbo," mientras que vierbo 7 significa "palabra." Innovaciones son también blesado y blesante (participios pasivo y activo de blesar "herir"); osadioso y osadiar8 son postnominales de osadia, como lo es ofensarse de ofensa etc. 5 4 5

6 7 8

Interpreto la yod c o m o u a causa de la forma recogida en Moscona 1990:67. DRAE cita tal significado también en espanol, aunque como 4 * acepciôn. La resrituciôn de la h incial es andetimolôgica por *ASCIOLA, pero ya que Corominas s.v. ayuela cita una palabra mozàrabe en la que se ha operado el cruce con hacha (obviamente por la semejanza fonédca y la proximidad semándca), me parece más propio ponerla entre paréntesis. El digrafo djen djelat transcribe la prepalatal africada sonora , v. n. 9 infra. Cf. p. [v-vi] del "Prefaz." Recogido por Nehama, falta en Pipano.

La influencia léxica directa del bûlgaro es casi insignificante: aparte de unas pocas palabras concretas como višna "guinda," biba (forma dialectal onomatopeica para "pava"), cristo (cfr. Kp-bcm +-0 para masculino, v. supra; junto con crocha "cruz"), vladica (alto dignatario de la iglesia bûlgara), y el adverbio acaša (que traduce un anuguo abladvo de lugar y signiflca "en casa"), la influencia del bûlgaro se limita a la de transmisor de los préstamos de otras lenguas. El corpus demuestra que su autor dominaba ambas lenguas y que el judeoespanol de Sofia en 1913 disponia de recursos tanto léxicos como morfolôgicos para una comunicaciôn normal. 2. El P R O N T U A R I O turisdco agrupa frases ûtiles por temas, como por ejemplo " E n el hotel," "La hora," "El chemendefer," " E n el magacen," "El médico," "Proposition de un mercader" etc. Probablemente entre todas las páginas del Diccionario sean éstas la mâs valiosa fuente de datos para la fllologia. Organizado en la misma estructura de très columnas, el prontuario turisdco contextualiza las palabras. Su importancia sin embargo rebasa los limites estrictos de la lingûisdca, porque deja patentes facetas de la vida de un comerciante sefardi de buena education, relacionado con el extranjero, de sus preferencias y gustos. Es como si sobre la marcha ante el lector se dibujara el retrato robot de Albert Pipano. Parece increible que en tan pocas páginas alguien haya podido dejar huella de su personalidad, pero obviamente Albert Pipano era un hombre de muchos encantos que sabia disfrutar de la vida. Los capitulos indtulados "Proposition de un mercader" y "Visita" por ejemplo son dos o très veces mâs largos del tamafio promedio; lo que al restaurante se refiere se subdivide en très partes (desayuno, comida, cena), con detallada lista de comidas y bebidas y ejemplificaciôn adecuada. Se trasluce un hombre de negocios, un profesional que domina bien su materia. A través de su larga experiencia y / o perspicacia natural adivina cuâles pueden ser las situaciones en las que uno puede encontrarse y como evitar los problemas. En el capitulo "Ande el cônsolo" un mercader en apuros pide al consul que le preste dinero, porque ha tenido gastos imprevistos; el consul, tras cerciorarse de su buen renombre profesional, ayuda generosamente a su compatriota. Fuera de estos temas "obligados," donde verdadero brio e inspiration adquiere el estilo de Albert Pipano y donde mejor se ve su dominio perfecto del bûlgaro es en los capitulos "Teatro, belos artes, divertimentos," "Camareta a quirá," " E n el hotel" etc., que definen a un hombre elegante, galân, de gustos refinados y exquisitos, muy cosmopolita y muy orgulloso de su ciudad. Sin reserva alguna, yo—casi un siglo mâs tarde—mostraria a un forastero las mismas cosas bonitas en Sofia: las curiosidades histôricas, la montana a veinte minutos (en coche), el parque enorme en sus faldas y prácdcamente en el centro de la capital. Le recomendaria el mismo hotel (varias veces renovado desde entonces, a Dios gracias). El dominio de Pipano del bûlgaro coloquial es sorprendente. Mientras que en el corpus del diccionario se habian colado palabras de uso restringido, algûn que otro arcaismo o rusismo, el lenguaje del prontuario es vivo y palpitante.

E n general, el prontuario registra los mismos fenômenos conocidos por el corpus léxico. Lo que salta a la vista como una diferencia básica es la mayor riqueza de formas y la sintaxis muy influida por el bûlgaro. Hay ampliation del significado ("un vaso de leche, vino, bira, café con leche, visnovka [grapa de guindas]"), cambios de significado {cebada es "centeno"), innovaciones (el sustanrivo masculino demasiado que es "sobrecarga," calcado sobre el bûlgaro; las formas femeninas cuála, comerciala, postala etc. y la forma del neutro cuàlo [qué]). Las palabras de procedencia extranjera se someten a cambios de acuerdo con el sistema del judeo-espanol, como en el caso del verbo *embrujar (en el texto en imperativo embrujaldos) "envolver" con el caracteristico resultado fonético del castellano. Se nota una preponderancia del uso del verbo ser sobre estar, que es fâcilmente explicable. Hay muchos calcos del bûlgaro que afectan tanto a la morfologia como a la sintaxis. Uno se despide con "Una noche liviana, madmoasel," formula normal para dar las buenas noches en bûlgaro ci. "Aexa HOIU!" Se registran casos de la famosa pérdida balcânica del infinitivo ("cuàndo que venga" "cuàlo que haga agora"), del j en vez de "también" (",;estáš calculando j ? " ; " r e g r e t o y yo mismo"), de aposiciôn balcânica asindédca ("vino Evxinograd, vino Má1aga, vino Madera," "un billeto primera, segunda, trecera clasa" ο "una funta espermacheta," lo que quiere decir "una libra de vêlas de esperma de cachalote"). El uso de la preposition en con verbos de movimiento posiblemente esté también influida por el bûlgaro, donde tras la desapariciôn de los casos hay una única preposition β. El deicdco panbalcânico na se interpréta como imperadvo en singular y desarrolla una forma secundaria de plural *nad, como si se tratara de un verbo de primera conjugation, cf. "Si, senor, nalda pa tarjeta de idenddad]" (140). Se dice a la francesa o a la bûlgara "la hora es una, la hora es dos, la hora es diez, la hora es siete y veinte," "vino corolado" etc. La influencia del francés es patente sobre todo en el uso de pronombres personales de sujeto, innecesaria tanto en bûlgaro como en sefardi. Un ejemplo curioso de indudable influencia bûlgara—a pesar de su desinencia turca—es el gentilicio nemsis / nemsas (del bûlgaro ueMeif, ueMCKU etim. "mudo," cf. bârbaro) que coexiste con alemân y germanio. La verdad es que una parte considerable de las palabras empleadas en el prontuario no forman parte del corpus léxico del Diccionario. Esto parece bastante raro, pero también comprueba que la lengua que hablaban los sefardies era mucho más rica y compleja que lo que un informante ο sola una fuente textual muestran. Hay que hacer un despojo sistemâtico de los textos y tratar de sacar conclusiones concretas segûn lo que dice cada fuente particular. 3. Los ANUNCIOS publicitarios son textos integros de libre creaciôn redactados por diferentes autores. A pesar de ello, son de menor interés en comparaciôn con el prontuario turistico, porque su carácter define el uso de un vocabulario limitado y la ausencia casi compléta de verbos conjugados. De los veintiûn anuncios "comerciales" (once a toda página y los otros diez a página partial) hay que anadir otros très—dos de Nadesda y uno de La Lu%-—en cubiertas. De ellos hay très de bûlgaros, cuyos titulares (Kr. M. Dilovski, Nicola T. Kolarov y Yord. M. Tavchiev) consideraban oportuno por lo visto hacer publicidad de sus res-

pecrivos negocios entre la comunidad judia. Uno de los très está escrito solo en bûlgaro (el de Tavchiev), otro solo en judeo-espanol (el de Kolarov) y el tercero en ambos idiomas. Los anuncios "judios" están por lo general ûnicamente en judeo-espanol (diez); hay très (los de Persiado D. Arav, Nisim B. Mosé y S. Baruh) redactados solo en bûlgaro—y muy buen bûlgaro—cuatro en ambas lenguas (entre los cuales hay uno del propio Albert D. Pipano) y uno—de Jacques Paucker—en francés. Dicho sea de paso, en ningûn texto nunca aparece el nombre de la capital Sofia como trisilabo. Es de destacar también el hecho de que algunos judios "bulgarizan" sus apellidos afiadiendo la desinencia caracterisdca -ov ο -er. Liachev, Simonov, Haimov. E n los anuncios se reflejan quizás en mayor grado la influencia sea francesa, sea italiana, como testimonio de las buenas relaciones comerciales de los respecdvos anunciantes, pero ningun texto se descarta tajantemente de la tendencia a modificar los préstamos de acuerdo con el sistema del judeo-espanol. La innovaciôn mejor registrada es el uso sistemârico de las formas de femenino en los adjedvos comerdala, prinapala, generala, intemacionala, asi como el sustantivado sucursala. Datos curiosos de interés lingûisdco nos brindan los anuncios del "biurô de treslados" de M. Haimov, que "hace treslados en bûlgaro y todas linguas importantes," y de la imprimeria Nadesda que "se ocupa de todo m o d o de laboro de impresiôn en todas las linguas corientes: bulgar, francés, alemân, espanol y hebreo." En otros dos anuncios se anade explicitamente que "la correspondensia [se lleva] en todas las linguas inclusivo el turco." Es la época en la cual las lenguas evrvpeas (jy gracias a Rahamim Simonov también el bûlgaro!) adquieren la preponderancia decisiva de lenguas de prestigio, mientras que el turco se considera ya como algo casi exôrico. Las transcripciones en letra aljamiada de palabras bûlgaras en el corpus y en el prontuario (por razones obvias los anuncios no ofrecen datos sobre el tema) reflejan un buen dominio del bûlgaro y una lôgica lingüistica basada en el sentido comûn, dignos de todo encomio. Asi la prepalatal africada sonora [y] en palabras de procedencia hispana se escribe con guímal con tilde, mientras que en las voces consideradas "extranjeras" se nota—con pocas excepciones—con dálet y yayin con tilde, segûn el uso bûlgaro (cf. ju?gar, jogo, justo, generoso etc., djeiat? djamt). La i semivocal o semiconsonante se marca por lo general con d o b l e j W (en posiciôn initial con ο sin lamed), cf. aire,jagmá, llamar,yardán etc. Un detalle en esas transcripciones viene a resolver todas las dudas que suscitan el corpus y el prontuario a causa de ciertas discrepancias semánticas, léxicas y gráf1cas. Lo que pasa es que la vocal media posterior [t] y la antigua nasal [X](de igual valor fonético) del bûlgaro, el corpus la transcribe consecuentemente con jod, posiblemente influido por la grafia turca, mientras que el prontuario lo hace con la misma consecuencia con dlef, caracterizando el sonido. 10 Creo que ello permite afirmar sin reservas que el Diccionario judeo-espanot-bùlgaro de Albert Pipano tiene dos autores: el mismo Albert y su hermano menor

9 10

V. nota 6. Es el correlato de / a / en el sistema fonolôgico del bûlgaro.

Meír, a quien Albert expresa en el prefacio "testimonianza de afecciôn reconociente" porque "con su acdvitá y pacencia me ayudô en el recogimiento y la ortografia de los vierbos bulgaros, muy provechosos para este laboro" (p.[v]). Los dos hermanos se han dividido el trabajo: Meir ha escrito el corpus y Albert el prontuario y el prefacio. Meir es el rata de biblioteca que se deja llevar por lo escrito (su transcription es más bien transliteration), mientras que Albert escribe—consecuentemente, porque es una persona educada—lo que oye. Para concluir, volvamos a la lingiiisrica, pues tal final en el que de un autor—y de un hermano—resultan dos séria adecuado solo para una novela de Agatha Crisrie. Decia mi profesor de Historia de la lengua portuguesa Ivo Castro que los métodos de aprendizaje de una lengua extranjera se dividen básicamente en dos dpos: el del diccionario y la gramática y el del televisor y la novia. Siempre— c o m o mi profesor—he sido parddaria del primero. Pero después de haber visto lo que este Diccionario muestra c o m o resultados independientes de la aplicaciôn de los dos métodos, tengo que admitir que el segundo—el de la novia y, digamos, del cinematôgrafo—ha dado resultados incomparablemente mejores que el primero. El Diccionario de los hermanos Pipano comprueba que el judeo-espanol de Sofia de inicios del siglo no era una lengua empobrecida, moribunda, repleta de préstamos y atascada de influencias ajenas. T o d o lo contrario, lo que se ve es un sistema sistemâtico en estado de equilibrio dinâmico como lo es el de cualquier lengua viva: àgil y manejable, capaz de servir a la comunicaciôn.

Bibliografia Academia Bûlgara de Ciencias 1954. Diccionario de la Lengua Bûlgara Literaria Contemporânea. Sofia (dtulo original en bûlgaro). Academia Bûlgara de Ciencias 1977. Diccionario de la Lengua Bûlgara. Sofia (dtulo original en bûlgaro).

Armistead, S. G. and Silverman J. H. 1971. The Judeo-Spanish Ballad Chapbooks of Yacob Abraham Yonâ. Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: University of California Press. Enciclopedia ielgalujot (Enciclopedia de [las] diasporas) 1967. Jerusalén y Tel Aviv.

Gaon, M. D. 1964-5. A Bibliography of the Judeo-Spanish (Ladino) Press (Hebr.). Jerusalén: Inst. Ben-Zvi.

Guérov, N. 1904. Dicaonarto de la Lengua Bûlgara con Interpretariön de las Voces en Bûlgaro y Ruso (Bûlg.). Plovdiv: Concordia.

Keshales, H. 1973. Corotyehudé Bulgaria, vol.5: Èemonim Sana kitbé 'et Selyehudé Bulgaria, beBulgaria ubeYisrael, baSanim 1893-972 (Historia de los judios de Bulgaria: Ochenta anos de publicaciones periôdicas de los judios de Bulgaria, en Bulgaria y en Israel, anos 1893-1972). Tel Aviv: Metab.

Moscona, I. Diccionario Judeo-Espario! [Anuario de la Asociaciôn Social, Cultural y Educational de los Judios en la Repûblica Popular de Bulgaria 1985, 20, 149-173; 1987, 22, 93-108; 1988, 23, 123-144; 1989, 24, 77-92 en bûlgaro; Annual of the Organization of the Jews in Bulgaria Shalom 1990, 25, 63-75; 1993-94, 27, 116-133; 1995, 28, 316-327 en inglés; Anuario de la Organizaciôn de los Judios en Bulgaria Shalom 1991, 26, 56—80 en espanol], Sofia. Nehama, J. 1977. Dictionnaire dujudéo-espagnol Madrid: CSIC.

Real Academia Espanola, 1992. Diccionario de la Lengua Espanola. Madrid.

Romero, E. 1992. Bib/iografia Analitica de Ediciones de Copias Sefardies (BAECS). Madrid: CSIC.

Yaari, A. 1934. Catalogue ofJudaeo-Spanish Books in the Jewish National and University Library, Jerusalem. Jerusalem: University Press.

LAS ADAPTACIONES LITERARIAS EN UN ‫ ״‬R O M A N Z O TRESLADADO‫״‬ EL BURACO

DEL INFIERNO

(ESMIRNA, I 9 0 8 )

M A CARMEN MARCOS CASQUERO UNED Guadalajara, Spain Uno de los aspectos que más preocupa a los estudiosos de la narradva sefardi (1865-1933) es el de la relaciôn entre las novelas no originales y sus fuentes. En las portadas de los textos aparecen expresiones como "romanzo tresladado," "traducido," "adaptado," "resumido," etc., cuyo significado no siempre es preciso. Con la intenciôn de contribuir a su esclarecimiento, ofrecemos unas consideraciones que hemos de suponer interesantes no sôlo para sefardistas, sino tarnbién para romanistas que deseen estudiar esta parcela de la literatura. El buraco del infierno es una novela "tresladada" por A. Ben-Guiat y publicada como folledn en El Meseret de Esmirna en 1908 (5668). Utilizamos la ediciôn ŠaYi0 (Še10má Yisrael Cherezli), Jerusalén, 1911 (5671), escrita con grafía rasí. Se trata de una adaptaciôn de Le Trou de l'Enfer (1851) de Alejandro Dumas padre; la publication que manejamos (Ginebra, Slatkine Reprints, Coll. Ressources, 1980) es reimpresiôn de la ediciôn de Paris, 1863. Al comparar ambas novelas, constatamos que "romanzo tresladado" significa, en esta ocasiôn, "novela adaptada." Ben-Guiat raramente traduce: El buraco del infierno es una adaptaciôn, con cambios, supresiones y adiciones, de Le Trou de l'Enfer. N o obstante, mandene la mezcla de relato romântico e histôrico, de pasiones y realismo, que Dumas le confiriô. El argumento es el siguiente: en una noche de tempestad de la primavera de 1810, dos jôvenes estudiantes alemanes, Samuel y Julius, marchan a caballo por las gargantas del rio Neckar camino de Heidelberg. Socorridos por la cabrera Gretchen, son alojados en casa del pastor protestante de Landeck. Julius se enamora de Christiane, la hija del pastor, y se casan. La perversidad de Samuel desencadena una tragedia que acaba en el suicidio de Christiane. Esta trama se mezcla con una acciôn paralela en la que los jôvenes, pertenecientes a la Tegendbund (Liga de la Virtud), conspiran contra Napoleon. El intento de asesinarlo, maquinado secretamente por Samuel, falla y éste, descubierto, huye. El buraco del infierno consta de ochenta y ocho páginas, comienza con un prôlogo firmado por Ben-Guiat (2-6) y el anuncio de una prôxima novela: "Cercamente aparecerá Muerta de mala muerte" (6). Inserta otro anuncio en la ultima página: "Cercamente aparecerá Jason Pachá el Terible." El buraco está dividido en veinte capitulos, algunos de ellos subdivididos con très asteriscos que forman un triángulo. Cada una de estas divisiones de la obra corresponde a una unidad de sentido que suele ser la misma que en la novela francesa.

La obra original, Le Trou de l'Enfer, tiene trescientas sesenta y cuatro páginas; son setenta y très capitulos cada uno con un titulo que, aun teniendo que ver con el contenido, en muchas ocasiones es disonante y parôdico. La diferencia en el numéro de páginas entre ambas novelas ya nos indica que las supresiones son muy abundantes. Efectivamente, Ben-Guiat suprime capitulos enteros y algunos pàrrafos. Veamos las omisiones más importantes. La obra de Dumas es una mezcla de novela romântica, histôrica, relato de viajes, cuadro de costumbres, magia y misterio. Estos aspectos, que sirven para reflejar una realidad, quedan muy disminuidos en la version sefardi. Ben-Guiat élimina veintiséis capitulos enteros que enriquecen grandemente la novela original. Diecisiete de ellos muestran—con una nota aclaratoria de Dumas: "[...] qu'on sache bien que nous racontons, que nous n'inventons pas." (38)—la vida de los estudiantes alemanes: los grados de la jerarquia de estudiantes ("maisonsmoussues," "pinsons," "renards d'or," "mulets," etc.), los vestidos, los cantos (el "Vivallera," el "Gaudeamus Igitur"...), los duelos a espada y a vino y sus reglas (en el curioso duelo a vino, Dumas hace gala de sus conocimientos sobre las clases de vinos y sus grados en escala de menos a más: Moselle, Bordeaux, Rhin, Bourgogne, Mâlaga, Madère, Porto, Genièvre, kirsch; asi mismo, nos ensefia la escala de insultos entre los estudiantes: la máxima injuria en su vocabulario es "imbécile"). Algunos narran una curiosa revuelta estudiantil ideada por Samuel que, junto con sus palabras, pensamientos y actuaciones, definen todavia más al personaje como manipulador, seductor, soberbio, maquinador, diabôlico y vengativo; pero también se nos muestra muy culto y ridiculizando la ensefianza de la Universidad. Siete capitulos suprimidos giran en torno a Christiane. Aunque no son esenciales para la coherencia de la trama, son importantes para ahondar en la psicologia de los personajes, pues se muestran los temores de la protagonista ante las amenazas de Samuel. Permanece en Ben-Guiat esa Christiane que se mueve entre el dramatismo y la fatalidad, que no puede luchar contra un desdno que Gretchen habia adivinado en el lenguaje de las flores: las dos mujeres, como biblica maldiciôn, están condenadas a sufrir la posesiôn del diabôlico Samuel. Además de estos capitulos enteros, existen otras supresiones en la novela sefardi. Citaremos las más significativas. N o aparecen los titulos de los capitulos (cargados de gran intenciôn y doble sentido, a veces). N o se dice que Salvator (Samuel en la novela francesa) es judio. Se omiten hechos histôricos (relacionados siempre con Napoleon). Se suprimen algunas descripciones de paisajes y de personas, tan importantes y bellas en la novela francesa, que demuestran la gran maestria de Dumas en los relatos de viajes (el paisaje, los caminos y los albergues de la region de Oderwald, las ciudades, las calles, etc.). El paisaje virgiliano queda solo esbozado en la version sefardi y tampoco nos transmite el pensamiento horaciano y luisiano de la cabrera Gretchen sobre la vida retirada. Faltan, además, los culturalismos que demuestran la erudiciôn y la vasta cultura de Dumas. Las supresiones empobrecen el relato sefardi y nos quedamos sin conocer aspectos importantes. Veamos unos ejemplos.

El pastor Schreiber cuenta su pasado de estudiante ("studiosus"), al que califica como el mejor dempo de su vida, y ve sus maies actuales como un pago por la vida disoluta de su juventud. En este mismo senudo, el baron de Hermelinfeld paga por haber seducido en su juventud a una pobre judia, la madré de Samuel. El pasado siempre espera su hora: "Tout se paye," dice Dumas. Pleberio se lamenta en La Celestina de la misma manera que Schreiber y el baron. Hemos dicho que Ben-Guiat omite el dato de que Samuel, al que cambia el nombre por el de Salvator, es judio. Samuel hace una cridca social, que se mandene en la version sefardi, en estos términos que justifican su resentimiento: Vous tenez beaucoup à l'ordre social, vous, je le conçois: il vous comble de tout. Mais moi! je suis juif, je suis bâtard, je suis pauvre; trois disgrâces indépendantes de ma volonté, et pour lesquelles cependant votre société me repousse, et dont elle me punit comme de trois crimes. Vous me permettrez de ne pas lui en être fort reconnaissant. Tant pis pour ceux qui maltraitent leur chien au lieu de lui donner à boire, et qui le nourrissent de coups de bâton! Le chien devient enragé et les mord. (62)

La critica social se extiende a todos los campos: al Derecho: "Il étudiera consciencieusement les principes du droit, c'est-à-dire l'injusuce, l'ambition et la eupidité humaines" (153); a la Teologia: "Il prouvera que la théologie mène au doute sur Dieu et assure principalement l'éxistence des théologiens" (252); a la lengua hebraica: "Il traduira la Bible sur le texte original, et, par la constatation des erreurs des traducteurs et des interpolations des commentateurs, fera voir que, sous prétexte de révélation divine, l'humanité croit précisément au mensonge des hommes" (252), etc. Parece normal que Ben-Guiat suprima estas opiniones que sin duda escandalizarian a unos lectores no muy preparados. Por ello, adapta el original al universo cultural del receptor, tratando de no transgredir los valores édcos, morales, religiosos, politicos, sociales o de cualquier otro tipo sobre los que se sustenta el lector judeoespanol. Quizá por esta razôn suprimiera las escenas de los estudiantes, carnavalescas y rabelesianas, que le parecerian una burla y poco ejemplarizantes. Creemos que el autor sefardi trata de entretener y de ensenar, dos fines que no siempre casan bien; élimina las notas histôricas y los culturalismos que, si en principio podian tener una utilidad pedagôgica, resultarian pesadas e incomprensibles para un publico poco preparado culturalmente. Podriamos anadir mâs supresiones, pero creemos que las enumeradas son suficientes para observar como Ben-Guiat adapta al sefardi la novela de Dumas. Respecto de las alteraciones en la novela sefardi, la primera que nos llama la atenciôn es la del cambio de nombre del protagonista Samuel Gelb, que pasa a llamarse Salvator Galb, nombre con menos resonancias judias. Hemos dicho que se trata de un personaje ateo, diabôlico y perverso que solamente busca hacer el mal, aunque tiene una inteligencia privilegiada. N o pareceria muy normal a los lectores que un personaje de su misma religion tuviera ese comportamiento; tal vez por ello, Ben-Guiat omite el dato de que es judio y le cambia el nombre. Estas pueden ser las razones que calla en el prôlogo: "El principal personaje de_la obra y e por razones que no interesan al lector, yo lo vo a desinar

con el nombre de Salvator" (2). También cambia Chrisdane por Crisdna, los demás nombres quedan igual. Otra alteration muy importante es la del final de la novela. En la obra de Dumas, solo se suicida Crisdna arrojàndose al "trou de l'Enfer," creyendo lavar asi su honra; Julius lo intenta, pero es sujetado por su padre; Gretchen oculta el motivo del suicidio, como prometiô a Crisdna, y espera con resignation la jusdcia divina. En la novela de Ben-Guiat, cuyo final es muy râpido, se suicidan Crisdna y Julius; Gretchen calla el modvo que llevô a su amiga a tomar tal decisiôn, pero jura venganza. El final de El buraco del infierno es tràgico, pero no patéuco. Hemos de decir, además, que, aunque en la novela hay un cierto maniqueismo, el final no es ejemplarizante: los buenos no triunfan y los malos no son castigados. Es posible que el adaptador deje a sus lectores esa esperanza de casdgo con el juramento de venganza de Gretchen. Los finales son, quizá, lo peor en las novelas de Ben-Guiat, pues observamos que también en las estudiadas por Barquin son precipitados y muy escuetos, como si el autor-adaptador tuviera prisa por terminar. Afirmamos, igualmente, que los finales son tràgicos, pero no patédcos, y que no en todas las novêlas los malos reciben su casdgo. El final del capitulo quince del Buraco (XLIV en Le Trou) está alterado. Salvator/Samuel da a beber un filtro amoroso a la cabrera, sin que ésta lo sepa. En el original se dice que, tras beberlo, Gretchen sujetô a Samuel que "était à peine à l'entrée et dans l'ombre du rocher" (232) y se insinua la posesiôn tras una apasionada escena amorosa; en la novela sefardi, Gretchen, al ver que Salvator se marchaba, gritô con sana y con verdadero fuego de amor en sus ojos: - S i te vas de aqui antes que yo sea tuya, te juro por el nombre de mi madré que yo te daré de vista muerte! Tu vas a estar con mi aqui esta noche, yo debo de ser tuya. Y con una sana loca ella lo trabô del brazo y lo ronjô sobre la cama. (74)

El fragmento citado muestra una burda sensualidad que asemejaria a Gretchen con las serranas del Arcipreste de Hita si no fuera porque la fogosidad de nuestra cabrera se debe a los efectos del filtro amoroso. Sin embargo, no hay erodsm o en el Buraco (tampoco en la novela de Dumas), aunque aparecen numerosas proposiciones de satisfaction carnal en boca de Salvator/Samuel. N o debemos entender la omisiôn de escenas erôticas como una prueba de puritanismo en Ben-Guiat, pues, aunque escasas, existen algunas muestras de voluptuosidad en otras de sus novelas. En La cabe^a cortada (Barquin, 272), nos parece que el cambio de palabras no "limita hasta cierto punto el ambiente de sensualidad" (Barquin, 112) que se percibe en la novela original, sino que lo aumenta: Gemma muestra más su desnudez con "la tripa casi entera deseobijada" que con "la poitrine presque hors de la couverture" (Dumas padre, Pascal Bruno (350); Barquin, 254), de modo que el principe debiô de mirar con más "gozo y sonrisa esta graciosa y linda figura" que en el relato francés. En La hermosa yivda, la hija de la protagonista se queja de su padrastro, que la ha echado de casa

Porque no aceti a sus sucias proposiciones.[...] "^No amas a tu mujer, que es la más hermosa del mundo?," le dije yo. Ma él me respondiô en riendo: "Seguro que es hermosa, ma y tú me places; ,;el gallo una gaina solo dene?" (Barquin, 303)

Los culturalismos de Dumas suelen omitirse siempre, pero encontramos algun caso en que Ben-Guiat los cambia por otros mâs acordes con las referencias culturales de sus lectores. Por ejemplo, en la obra francesa, cuando Samuel/Salvator está a punto de forzar a Chrisdane/Crisdna para que se le entregue a cambio de sanar a su hijo, aquél evoca, "Chose étrange!," un grabado de Durero dtulado Le Violent y que representa a un hombre misterioso que fuerza a una dama (315). La novela sefardi lo sustituye por un pasaje biblico: !Cosa curiosa! Salvator se acodraba en aquel punto de_la cena que se paso entre la mujer de Putifar y Yosef y se demandaba entre si por qué habia seido que_la mujer. (78)

Observamos que Ben-Guiat tampoco utiliza culturalismos en las novelas estudiadas por Barquin. Aunque otras alteraciones son poco relevantes, citaremos una ultima. En la novela original la secuencia temporal es muy clara; la acciôn transcurre en dos aiïos, del 20 de mayo de 1910 al 15 de mayo de 1812. Continuamente se mencionan fechas, dias, horas y minutos. Vivimos el paso del tiempo, del dia y de las estaciones; sabemos las distancias entre ciudades medidas en millas o en tiempo. La novela sefardi también desarrolla la acciôn en dos anos, mas no se précisa la fecha de inicio, sino "en la primavera de 1810." E n ocasiones, el cômputo del tiempo del relato francés es alterado caprichosamente por Ben-Guiat, porque la diferencia es minima (por ejemplo, quince minutos se cambian a diez). Aun asi, sin la precision casi obsesiva de Dumas, existe coherencia en el tiempo del relato sefardi, salvo en una ocasiôn (53) en la que no se sabe muy bien qué dia de la semana es y para qué dia se citan los dos amigos protagonistas. Los cambios detectados no afectan a la coherencia de la trama. Es evidente que Ben-Guiat conocia de antemano Le Trou de l'Enfer y por ello selecciona con maestria aquellos capitulos que mâs interesan al lector. Sabe que algunos episodios y detalles podrian no ser entendidos por un publico poco preparado culturalmente, y él escribe para la gran mayoria. Tras la exposition de supresiones y alteraciones, veamos algunas adiciones. Son muchas las que encontramos en El buraco del infierno. Casi todas son explicaciones de Ben-Guiat sobre la novela, sobre los personajes o sobre algûn aspecto de la trama. La adiciôn mâs extensa e importante es el prôlogo. Son cuatro páginas y media en las que se informa de la novela y muy especialmente de su protagonista Salvator. Ben-Guiat considéra que El buraco del infierno es una obra misteriosa, inquietante e incluso terronfica; su lectura dejará honda huella en el lector: Este romanzo es una obra de las mâs punchantes, de éstas que entran hasta adientro del tôtano y que meten vuestro cuerpo de ariba abao. Es una obra fuerte, es un libro del cual, meldado con atenciôn, el contenido no puede nunca salir del espirto del lector. (2)

Tras estas breves palabras a m o d o de introduction, el autor habla de Salvator, protagonista de la novela: su carácter, sus poderes innatos, sus conocimientos ("hasta las principales virtudes y tôsigos de las flores"); es un hombre extraordinario "que pudo haber seido un médium." Llegado a este punto, Ben-Guiat interrumpe el relato ("Aqui una explication es menesterosa") para hablar de Aristoteles, Alejandro Magno, Dante y Napoleôn como ejemplos de personajes célébrés "médium" que deben su fama a "un manetismo" y poder especial, pero que utilizaron bien para hacer cosas maravillosas. Y diserta sobre las bondades del magnedsmo y del espiridsmo—entendemos que se refiere al hipnotismo—para hallar la solution a grandes problemas del mundo. Salvator, por el contrario, gozando de los mismos poderes, hace un uso perverso de ellos. Ben-Guiat nos explica el modvo, que no es otro que su origen bastardo, y la venganza que ha determinado llevar a cabo sobre el baron, que dehonrô a su madré, y su familia. Antes de poner su firma, Ben-Guiat concluye asi el prôlogo: Y para vengar el deshonor de su madré, Salvator se venga sobre la Ventura del baron en quitando el reposo de su familia, en manchando el honor de su casa, en haciéndole feridas sobre feridas, en mostrândole siempre a_los suyos la deshonor alado, la muerte enfrente, la venganza entre las dos. Y todo esto con el ayudo de su grande saber en la chimia, en su estudio en las flores. (6)

Con este prôlogo se demuestra que Ben-Guiat conoce en profundidad la novela de Dumas, capta su contenido aunque solo nos hable de una de las acciones, analiza y valora con claridad el comportamiento de los personajes. Y todo ello contado con una destreza que pone de relieve sus dotes narradvas. El segundo ejemplo es una interesante interpolation en el capitulo veinte. El atentado que Salvator maquinô contra Napoleon ha fallado. Piensa que la muerte es su única salida, pues en Alemania solo le espera el deshonor. Tras varias deliberaciones, decide huir, "Y tomando el camino de Francia, él se dirijô para Paris onde lo toparemos más tadre, en el otro libro que hace següita a El buraco del infierno" (86). Pensamos que esta interpolation de Ben-Guiat es una argucia literaria para sads facer la curiosidad del lector sobre el posible final del andhéroe que ha escapado sin casdgo (y espera ver cumplida la venganza de Gretchen), pues no sabemos cuàl es esa condnuaciôn de la que habla el autor. Pero podria existir "el otro libro." El lenguaje de las flores es un tema muy importante en la novela. Ya desde el principio es tema de conversation entre los personajes. Dicho lenguaje vadcina el futuro e imprégna todo de un halo de misterio y fatalidad. Nada ni nadie puede alterarlo, salvo Samuel ("[.‫ ]״‬mon rôle de vice-Destin [...], ma nature prométhéenne" [359]), más que Salvator. Gretchen y Salvator son los personajes que verdaderamente endenden el lenguaje de las flores. Gretchen es la pastora que sabe leer en las plantas, la adivinadora, la hechicera-gitana, la mujer sabia y prudente que ama los espacios abiertos de la naturaleza. Salvator es el hombre sabio que conoce todas las ciencias; pero es una mezcla de Satán de Milton, D o n Juan y Sade; es el arquitecto diablo-constructor, el quimico que élabora venenos con

formulas medievales, el hechicero que prépara pôcimas. El pastor Schreiber es un simple aficionado. Ocasionalmente, Ben-Guiat introduce explicaciones poco enriquecedoras, pues interpréta antes lo que va a desarrollar a condnuaciôn, como ocurre con la carta que Salvator escribe al baron, ο amplifica una frase de Dumas, por ejemplo: "Était-ce instinct, pressentiment, vague terreur de femme?" (160), se convierte en: Las mujeres, s o b r e t o d o las instruidas y bien elevadas, d e n e n una especia de s e n t i m i e n t o s d e endivinaciôn que les hace ver de antes, en sus s u e n o , en despiertas, e n diversas circunstanzas, t o d o lo b u e n o o lo m a l o que les va a c o n t e cer a ellas o a sus queridos. (64)

Muchas son, como hemos visto, las diferencias entre las dos novelas. N o obstante, permanece lo esencial creado por Dumas: la fantasia mezclada con lo histôrico y un marco real en el que se mueven unos personajes verosimiles. BenGuiat acorta la novela, pero no se centra en la anécdota sino en la action principal, en la que convergen conspiration y amor. El argumento es más que una fantasia romântica; es una obra en la que se analizan los comportamientos de los personajes, sin llegar a ser una novela de tesis. El buraco del infierno no es una obra original, está claro. Ben-Guiat ha partido de una novela de Dumas y la ha "tresladado": traduciendo a veces y adaptando ha re-creado una novela. Esas adaptaciones no son improvisadas ni inconscientes; responden al pensamiento del autor-traductor, ya que los cambios afectan al contenido del mensaje. E n éste se detecta la presencia del narrador, marcando esa subjetividad con palabras ο con signos de admiration entre paréntesis. Y estos aspectos deben tenerse en cuenta pues pertenecen a la pragmática literaria más que a la sociologia: expresiones que tenian un sentido en la obra original pueden tener otras connotaciones desde el punto de vista del significado para los lectores sefardies orientales. N o hay que desdenar que las novelas en judeoespanol sean traducciones o adaptaciones. Ambos casos suponen una elaboration del contenido del texto original, la recreation de un texto en otro sistema lingüistico y condicionado por las caracterîsdcas culturales, ideolôgicas y estéticas del autor y de los lectores a los que va destinada. Résulta inevitable, pues, que difieran. Ben-Guiat élimina todo lo que pueda ser heterodoxo, tanto en lo estético como en lo ideolôgico para adaptar el original al universo cultural del receptor, tratando de no transgredir los valores de cualquier tipo sobre los que se sustenta el lector sefardi. Se utiliza peyorativamente la palabra folletin al hablar de las novelas judeoespanolas. Aclaremos que el término folledn se aplica a aquellas novelas escritas de antemano y publicadas como folledn, independientemente de su contenido y de la mayor o menor elaboration psicolôgica o ardstica. Este término hace referencia más a la forma que a la naturaleza del contenido. Recordemos que obras de grandes escritores de la literatura universal se publicaron como follednes. Sin embargo, se aplica impropiamente el término confundiéndolo con novela por entregas, obra que no está escrita de antemano y va creândose a medida que se

publica, resultando una obra de muy baja calidad artisdca o literaria. E n la narradva sefardi habrá obras que pertenezcan a uno u otro concepto. Destacamos como aciertos de Ben-Guiat en El buraco del infierno·. el encuentro de la palabra exacta para comunicar las propias impresiones que él recibiô de la lectura del libro de Dumas, la estructuraciôn coherente, la cohesion del texto, la descripciôn espacio-temporal, el retrato de los protagonistas y algunos recursos literarios (epitetos, comparaciones, metâforas, metonimias, paradojas, périfrasis e hipérboles). Muchos de estos aciertos pueden aplicarse a las obras éditadas por Barquin. Y aunque el estilo de las novelas sefardies peque de improvisado y descuidado en ocasiones, valoremos estas obras en su contexto histôrico y no desde la perspecdva actual. Conviene tener présente que el objedvo ultimo de la obra literaria es el deleite a través de la lectura o la audiciôn. Nuestros esfuerzos investigadores irán encaminados a favorecer la difusiôn de los textos explicando las peculiaridades de cada uno. D e este m o d o podrà completarse la Historia de la Literatura Espanola con la inclusion de la Literatura Sefardi.

Bibliografia Barquin, A. 1997. Ediciôny estudio de doce novelas aljamiadas sefardies de principios del siglo XX. Bilbao: Universidad del Pais Vasco.

Diaz-Mas, P. 1993. Los sefardies. Historia, Lenguay Cultura. Barcelona: Riopiedras. Hassan, I. M. 1978. "Transcripciôn normalizada de textos judeoespanoles." Estudios Se-

fardies 1, 147—150. Romero, E. 1992. La creaciôn literaria en lengua sefardi. Madrid: Mapfre.

C 0 M P A R A C 1 0 N ENTRE LA POESIA EN LADINO LÍRICA Y HUMORÎSTICA EN LOS PER10DICOS DE SALÔNICA ( 1 8 6 0 - 1 9 4 0 ) Y LA POESÎA LÎRICA Y HUMORÎSTICA PUB LI CAD A EN ISRAEL ( 1 9 5 O - I 9 6 5 ) MARGALIT MATITIAHU Federaciôn Israeli de Escretores, Tel-Aviv, Israel

Prôlogo Esta conferencia curta la comparo a una persona asentada delantre de una mesa llena con platos de comidas de muchas colores y golores, y él es permetido solamente de gostar y no de hartar; ansi será mi conferencia: en tan poco tiempo dar solamente a gostar de las comparaciones de las poesias en ladino, liricas y humoristicas, en los periôdicos de Saloniqui entre los anos 1860-1940 y la poesia lîrica y humoristica publicada en Israel entre los anos 1950-1965.

La prensa en Saloniqui Saloniqui devino civdad de empremeria una de las más famosas en el m u n d o judio. Miles de libros (ariba de 3500 libros) y otras publicaciones se emprimaron en Saloniqui en los anos 1515-1940. La prima empremeria se fondô en el ano 1515. El arte de la empremeria empezô a desveloparse sineficamente en el ano 1741 en m a n o de los Sno. Yonà Ben Yacob y Besalel Halevi Askenazi. Este ultimo aribô de Amsterdam y era uno de los tipografos fondadores de una genealogia de tipografia que hicieron de Saloniqui la civdad de los libros. Hasta el 19 siécolo emprimaron libros de tefilà, Talmud, el libro Ha^phar, Meam/oe% y más. Disde el 19 siécolo y endelantre, cuando todo estaba pronto a recibir muevas flores de cultura, empezaron a emprimir periôdicos y jurnales que trujeron con ellos muevos aires de literatura. Las publicaciones aparicieron en lo más en judeo-espanol y poco en hebreo. La prensa en judeo-espanol que se printô en Saloniqui con letras rasi (letras hebreas) t o m ô lugar emportante y zantral en la vida de la comonidad judia. La Época, un jurnal semanal, apariciô mientres 36 anos cuntunualmente del ano 1875-1912 y tuvo un lugar zantral en la vida de la comonidad judia. La Epoca se clasificô c o m o un "jurnal politico econômico y literario." El primo jurnal apariciô al 20 octubre 1875; el redactor era Semuel Sadi Halevi. El redactor, que era él mismo poeta, encorajô a los jôvenos de embiar de sus poesias a la redaccion. Ansi empezaron las publicaciones de poemas en el jurnal La Epoca y en otros jurnales.

E n el ano 1880 se publico una de las primeras poesias, "La vida de un hombre." El que escribiô esta poesia se firmô "Un homano," sin dar su verdadero nombre. Los temas de las poesias eran sobre evenimientos o personajes. En el ano 1898 escribiô el poeta Abram Yudá Askenasi la poesia "Sobre el piedrisco," después de cayer un piedrisco grande y fuerte que matô personas y derocô baracas (él era también profesor de la lengua hebrea y escrebia poesias en hebreo). "La primavera," poesia escrita por Isac Josué, se publico en La Epoca en el 21.2.1901. El poeta pinta la natura con lenguaje de nivel mâs alto. Se puede decir que entre la poesia lirica y humoristica se encontra dos niveles de expresiôn. La poesia lirica presentaba otro nivel de lengua en comparaciôn a la lengua que presentaba la poesia humoristica. Del ano 1900 y endelantre, al lado de la prensa tratada como "prensa séria" se desvelopô también la prensa populara y humoristica, que trujo con ella otro estilo y cualidades. Ariba de 15 periôdicos humoristicos aparicieron en Saloniqui, entre ellos La Vara, La Trompeta, La Gata, El Risôn, El Samar, Charlô, y otros. La vida actuala se transparaba en la prensa de una manera de vision torcida por subir sonrisas a los labios de los lectores. En los jurnales humoristicos se publicaron también poesias liricas, poesias sobre la natura, la guerra y el amor. Las poesias humoristicas transparaban la vida actoala, con las problemas econômicas, socialas, y politicas. Las consejas de Nastradi Hoyà y Yohà tenian un lugar especial en el circolo de la vida judia. Los mâs de los poetas no firmaban sus verdadero nombre. Uno de los poetas liricos y de alto nivel era Selomô Reubén, conocido bajo el nombre "Le rever soliter." El escrebia sonetas en pintando la natura con las colores de su aima. Todos los jurnales serios y humoristicos desparicieron en el ano 1940. La famosa comonidad judia de Saloniqui fue destruida y 95% de los judios fueron asasinados en el Holocausto.

En Israel Del ano 1950 y endelantre aparicieron en Israel 3—4 periôdicos jurnales semanales, entre ellos El Tiempo, La L·»^, La Verdad. Se publicaron poesias liricas y humoristicas, novelas, romances. Los temas eran muy semejantes a los temas de los periôdicos de Saloniqui. Poemas sobre evinimientos, natura, questiones politicas actualas, amor por la patria y poemas de amor. La structura quedô la misma: rimas. El lenguaje subiô a un nivel mâs alto también en las poesias humoristicas. La lengua populara con la expresiôn directa no cuntinuô en Israel. Los poetas que nombraré tem'an parte en la creation lirica y humoristica; son en Saloniqui: Abram Yudá Askenasi, Isac Josué (La Época), Selomô Reubén, (El Risôn)·, en Israel: Ishac Ben-Rubi, David Menaché, Simon Saûl, conocido como "Faraôn" (El Tiempo). La expresiôn lirica se encontra en Israel en el jurnal El Tiempo de la péndola de David Menaché y Ishac Ben-Rubi al lado de la poesia humoristica también

escrita por estos dos Ultimos, con la diferencia que el lenguaje es de nivel más alto y no dene palabras en hebreo o en otras lenguas. La lengua populara teniendo côdigos de la vida de la comonidad judia de Saloniqui no se transparô mas en los jurnales que aparicieron en Israel.

Comparaciones 1. Estas dos poesias escritas en diferencia de 79 aiios. La una, "La vida de un hombre," se publico en el ano 1880 en el jurnal La Epoca en Saloniqui. La otra, " E n el camino de la vida," se publico en Israel en el jurnal El Tiempo en enero 1959. Este poema habla de los pasos que llevan al hombre de un evenimiento al otro, de su nacimiento hasta su vejez, mientres va pasando una vida de dolor y pena. La poesîa es escrita con una expresiôn muy directa, con palabras que se usan en conversation y que no denen la cualidad lîrica. "La vida de un hombre," de "Un homano" (La Epoca, Saloniqui, 1880). 1

El hombre vino al m u n d o Sin reposo un segondo D e su madré alechado Fin un ano destetado

2

Ariba a cinco anos Cuando menea sus labios Es meddo en escola Sin sintirse de la ola

3

Cuando diez anos lleva Sus estudios non relleva Percura de enstruirse Por desgracia destruirse

4

Vente anos tiene justo Ya empeza su desgusto Cinco groses la semana Se engana de una rana

5

De trenta anos alora Acorido toda hora Lo rodean hijas cuatro El bailando pa de cuatro.

6

Él se va a los cuarenta Se hace c o m o pimenta Salta como la gartija Fin que casa prima hija

7

E n cincuenta cuando pisa D e sus ojos n o n divisa Fin que su cuero se le m u n d a Dis que casa la segunda!

8

Son sesenta en la yacá N o n es hora de sacá Rompiéndose los meollos Escapa de los embrolios

9

Setenta bajo el lado El se topa rodeado D e niericos y nieticas D e Alfredos y Maticas

10

P o b r e t o con ochenta Su p u e r p o non se caienta Caminar avagareza Y sin ganar, qué dureza!

11

Son noventa buena gente Su comer es raramente El se topa abocado E n sus bastones rimado

12

Al cabo ya son cien anos N o n conoce ni sus panos Su hablar n o se endende Fin que su riflo él rende

13

Q u é ganimos esta vida Q u e tan presto es ida? Pasada con sufrienzas Y otras cosas diversas

14

Cual es el bien de el h o m b r e Q u e se enmente su nombre? D e b e mostrar homanidad Y caminar por la verdad. 4c Dichos usados cuando uno engana al otro con poco. 6b Cuando dicen que uno es escarso lo Uaman "pimienta" y hace saltos para alcanzar las cosas. 8a En diciendo "en la yacá" es que dene resposabilitad. 12b Dicho que ya piedriô su cencia.

" E n el Camino de la vida," de David Menaché (ElTiempo, Israel, januar 1959). 1

El Camino de la vida, Mientres toda su corida, E s bien lleno de pinascos, Para los fuertes y los flacos.

2

Malgrado toda la cencia, Malgrado toda la pacencia, Malgrado la filosofia, Muy triste es la pasadia.

3

T o d o aqui abajo es amargura, T o d o es falsia, todo pudridura, T o d o sufriencia y nada ventura!

4

T o d o dempo reinô la indiferencia, Entre ignorantes y hombres de cencia, El fuerte al flaco lo quiere engludr, El rico al probe no lo quiere sintir.

5

Por qué hacer vivir los desmazalados? Por qué dar la vida a los desgraciados Si no hay justicia ni amabilidad, La hipocrisa es una cualidad?

6

Puede ser un dia ternemos hermandad, El solo esfueno de la humanidad (esparanza). 4c Cridca a los parados polidcos. 5b Expresiôn en general en las problemas de la vida.

2. Saloniqui, " S o b r e el p i e d r i s c o , " d e A b r a m Y u d á A s k e n a s i (La Época, 28.10.1898). E l p o e t a A b r a m Y u d á A s k e n a s i se e x p r e s ô e n esta p o e s î a c o n leng u a p o p u l a r a , c o n m e t â f o r a s p a r e c e ya c o n o c i d a s y q u e ya e n t r a r o n e n la e x p r e siôn d e cada dia y el p o e t a las u s o e n la poesîa. Y o las c o n o c i e n s i n d é n d o l a s d e b o c a d e m i m a d r é m e s m o a n t e s d e meldarlas en esta poesîa. E n t r e estas frasas se e n c o n t r a n t a m b i é n linias liricas. 1

Ariéndosen los cielos Mostramos que ay un dio Mos apedriô con yelos Por punto no mos hundiô,

2

Luvia fuerte con piedrisco N o n déjà ni yam ni tejas Cada uno boy de brisco Mos hizo todo lintejas,

3

Bora grande como esta Nunca tuvo acontecido Al rumor de la tempesta Quedô el pueblo entontecido,

4

Lloros gritos se senda De grandes y criaturas Cada uno consenda Temblores y caientura,

5

Rayos nos y truenos Al mundo hizo trublar Sea a negros como a buenos A todos hizo temblar,

6

Tejas, vidros, bienes, mobles Pasaron furtuna fuerte Probes ricos también nobles Tuvieron la misma suerte,

7

Vinas, campos como güertas Esta todo en gran ruvina Ay feridos también muertos en esta géra devina. 2b Cuando quieren decir ruvinô y se hizo cenisco. 3a Popular. 3b Lirico. 3c Lirico. 5b Líric0. 7d Lirico.

C o m p a r a c i ô n : Israel, " L o s p l a t o s q u e v o l a n , " " L o s c a p d v o s r e t o r n a n " (1957), d e F a r a ô n ( S i m o n Saul), " E n el p o r t o d e H a i f a " (1953), El Tiempo, 2 7 . 1 0 . 1 9 5 4 (56 a n o s diferencia). 3. Israel, " E l a m o r , " d e D a v i d M e n a c h é {El Tiempo 21.3.1956), p o e m a q u e exp r e s a e n 6 p a r t e s el a m o r , la e n f l o e n c i a y la aficaciôn a la vida d e u n h o m b r e . 1

El amor, como el mundo, hecho de eternidad Consume el corazôn sin tener piadad, Es flama divina en nuestra alborada, Fuego que engrandece, fuerza muy amada,

2

Da un vero senso a la existencia Y habla a todos con muchas insistencia, Es cosa mágica ainda misteriosa, Lingua angélica, siempre armoniosa.

3

Fuerza magnéuca, rio desbordante, Que lo quieran o no, sabio o inorante, En vano pelean en su red admirable Sea flaco, fuerte, rico, miserable.

4

N o sentir el amor es presendr la muerte, El amor es ser sano, hermoso y fuerte, 1 amor es la vida sin ninguna flaqueza, Es la acciôn vitala en llena sigureza.

5

Manana y tadre cantar es el amor, Ver todo en rosa con un fuerte ardor, riyir de las penas, afrontar miscria, buscar lo hermoso sin sentir canseria.

6

Amor, amor, amor, infichizadero quemas y aciendes como un brasero, a todos los hombres das la borachez los colpos de tu flécha los harba con prestes. 2a Enfloencia italiana.

C o m p a r a c i ô n : Saloniqui, " D o s c o r a z o n e s a u n a d o s , " p o e s i a d e a m o r p u b l i c a d a en el a n o 1926 en el jurnal La Gata, firmado M. S. 1

Dos corazones, dos aimas puras se aman recéprocamente pensando que nada, ningûn obstâcolo los puedrá devisar, ellos se aman de una afecciôn efonible eternelamente, hasta la hora de la muerte ellos no se van a mepresar.

2

C o m o ninguno no puede enterceptar el agua del no, rebata el corazôn con su fortaleza a aquel que mete antrabes, ansi tu, mi querida! ningunos puedrán romper nuestro brio, horosa estarés siempre de un delicio que enoras y no sabes.

3

Ni la enveluntad de los patientes ni aquella de la gente nada no puedrán espantarmos a nos dos amados, solo que tu Sarina me ames de un amor fidel jurnilamente, estonces seremos dos aimas, dos corazones aunados.

4. Saloniqui, "Paz" de Selomô Reubén (ElRisôn, 1924). 1

El viento suplaba ayer con rabia y fracaso El piedrisco caiya de algûn emenso cevile Las yerbas durmian bajo este beso terible Los àrboles turcian en gritando sus brazos.

2

Ma agora el viento calmado se topa canso, La natura retomô su grande aima fesible, Y esta tadre en el parc agora emposible N o se siente más ningun grito, ruido ni paso.

3

Ansi en nuestro coro supla alguna tempesta. T o d o gime... ma después, na el viento que se aresta. El desencantamiento parece sùbito de se ir.

4

La aima que parecia por siempre isolada Se ilumina a los rayos de algûn suvinir: Es el calmo grande de una noche estreada.

Comparaciôn: Israel, "Canta canta," de David Menaché (El Tiempo 18.8.1954). 1

Canta rosinol, canta mis amores, Canta mi amigo, canta mis dolores, Tu vista hermosa, tu voz harmoniosa Exprimen tu gozo en verso o prosa.

2

Canta mi corazôn, canta mis albores, Canta, joh mi aima!, canta mis malhores, Cantando montes altos y fieros, Imensas charras llenas de misterios.

3

Canta, alborada, onde la natura Gratifica la paz y la hermosura, Canta, sol, con tu splandor, Canta, luna, con tu relumbror.

4

Canta siempre al roido de tu ola Tu, mar revueltosa, canta a tu sola, Güertas cubiertas de flores Hermosas, con mil colores.

5

Vergeles llenos de frutos, Cantad, cantad todos juntos. Cante de dolor, cante de alegria Cante de amor o de nostalgia.

Poesias humoristicas En comparando las poesias humoristicas publicadas en Saloniqui a las de Israel se puede notar que la melezca de palabras en hebreo, turco ο grego tuvo lugar en Saloniqui mâs que en Israel. Por exempio: en el ano 1924, 3 de marzo, se publico en el jurnal humoristico La Vara una poesia humoristica satirica sobre las problemas de la vida econômica. En esta poesia se encontra melezca de palabras en grego y hebreo: "Aide charalambo nase pandrepsome" (titolo çn grego). 1

Aide bré carnaval Somos los fandasmenos De toda la umâ

2

Sabemos profitar Los hacemos espantar Le hacemos guzmâ

3

Cale que vistamos mascas Patriotas de sacás El pueblo que eche bascas Y que sufra mil macás

Comparaciôn de las poesias humoristicas a las de Israel: "Los platos que volan", El Tiempo (palabras en turco). En Israel en el jurnal El Tiempo se publico una colona humoristica titolada "Opiniones de Chimôn Chimôn" escrita por Ishac Ben-Rubi, poeta, escritor y traductor (redactores poetas también en los jurnales de Saloniqui La Epoca, El Lunar y mâs). En esta colona pintaba Ben-Rubi las problemas de la vida actuala, con una expresiôn satirica, sobre la politica, la vida econômica, sociala y mâs. A las veces dialogaba con una figura llamada "Simân-Tob"; la sinificaciôn de este nombre es "Buena sinal." Esta colona la puedo comparar a la colona de "Ya fablô Yohà" en el jurnal La Vara o a la colona "Estempereadas." La comparaciôn sobre los temas y el lenguaje me lleva a la conclusion que en pasando de 15 a 20 anos, el lenguaje paso a una expresiôn un poco mâs fina.

Traducciones de hebreo al ladino En el 21 januar del ano 1927 se publico en el jurnal La Renacencia Judia poemas hebreas traducidas al judeo-espaiiol o ladino como se llama hoy. El poeta nacional Haim Nahmán Bialik escribiô el poema "El pàjaro," sobre su carino a Israel y su sufriencia en el exilo. Este poema fue traducido y publicado, ma sin firma del traductor. En el 28 julio del ano 1954, 27 anos mâs tadre, se publico la traducciôn del mismo poema por Ishac Ben-Rubi. En comparando la traducciôn résulta que la primera fue mâs fidela al original; en ella se guadrô el ritmo y la lirica, mientres que la segunda es una adaptaciôn. En el 26 de abril 1956 se publico un poema de David Menaché titolado "El pàjaro"; el poeta empeza con las primeras frasas del poema de Bialik:

Seas bien venido en la mi ventana, Pàjaro querido, que cada manana Vienes saludarme a la misma hora...

y contunûa con su expresiôn personal en metiendo al pàjaro como figura central y adresândole las demandas personales sobre el hombre que quiere ser el "rey de la natura" y preguntando sobre el desdno de la vida, llena de dolor y pena: Estonces nuestro rey endende que es nada, Producto de matiera y tiera amasada, Que "Madré Natura" toma su derito, Que ninguno fuye de lo que esta escrito.

Hay también otros poemas traducidos en ladino, publicados en el jurnal El Tiempo; lo vo nombrar solamente: "El guardián" de Shaûl Tchernihovski, "El plato de plata" de Natán Alterman.

Conclusion Se puede decir que las publicaciones en la prensa de Israel, en comparando a la de Saloniqui, es una contunuaciôn en parte de la prensa judeo-espanola en lo pasado. Con la deferencia que en Israel se publico con letras latinas y las colonas se trocaron de dtolos mesmo que presentaron una linia semejante. E n Saloniqui la prensa humon'stica tenia aparte sus jurnales y la prensa séria tenia los suyos. Mientres que en Israel no habia apartaciôn, los jurnales condnian las novedades y las colonas satiricas juntos en el mismo jurnal. Estamos en la entrada de este campo de envasdgaciôn y hay mucho que estudiar sobre la prensa, sobre las publicaciones de literatura lîrica y sadrica. Estamos en el empecijo. Cada rama chica, cada flor que apenas empeza a espuntar en este campo de envasdgaciôn dene grande valor, es como alevantar la cordna para ver y entender más al fondo la vida de la comonidad judia en lo pasado.

N0C10 N Y REALIDAD DE " EMANCIPAC10 N‫ ״‬Y " ASIMILAC10 N‫״‬ EN DOS TIPOS DE TEXTOS DE INFLUENCIA PUBLICA EJEMPLOS DEL PERIODISMO SEFARDÍ DE ORIENTE Y EL ME AM LO'EZ ŠIR HAŠIRIMOE HAYYIM YISHAQ ŠAKI (1899) 1 ALMUTH M Ü N C H I n s t i t u t f ü r J u d a i s t i k , Berlin, G e r m a n y

Entre los hitos que marcan la historia del pensamiento, la nociôn de émancipaciôn es una de las que con mayor frecuencia dan lugar a interpretaciones. Todos los cambios paradigmâticos son partitiilarmente susceptibles de alienaciones doctrinarias. D e acuerdo con el carácter especifico de sus géneros, los textos dejan distinguir formas particulares de concebir ciertas nociones o de abarcar la realidad correspondiente. N o se trata aqui de escribir un capitulo de historia a base de unos numéros de periôdicos y un comentario de un libro biblico—esto séria absurdo—ni tampoco de desplegar el panorama politico de la prensa periodica—esto no se hace en ocho paginas—sino de analizar momentos de articulation o repercusiôn significativos de una concepciôn central de la época moderna en una sociedad distinta y en dos medios diferentes de cierto alcance publico. Se trata de analizar/elucidar la articulation o la repercusiôn concretas a la medida del criterio del género textual. La prensa periodica critica es un producto consecuente de la ilustraciôn europea. E n la sociedad del Imperio O t o m a n o el periodismo fue inaugurado por el precursor occidental por excelencia, es decir, bajo tutela francesa y en francés; el otomano, cuando deja de ser puramente boletin gubernamental, continuarâ a partir de 1941 en turco, el sefardi, a partir de 1942, sera plurilingüe: judeoespanol, francés, turco u otros idiomas locales—segûn los lugares, respectivamente las posiciones sociopoliticas. Producto consecuente de la ilustraciôn europea se puede llamar la prensa periôdica critica por el programa filosôfico del movimiento. Programâticos fueron très puntos: 1. El problema de Descartes (como de Leibniz, Kant y otros mâs) era obtener nociones básicas claras y précisas como criterio de verdad para una posibilidad de cognition filosôfica, racional. Este tipo de aclaraciôn de ideas se refiere en un

El tema previsto de mi contribution al Congreso de Toledo de la EAJS fue el comentario del lenguage del Me'am La'ezŠir HaSirim de Hayyim Yijhaq Saki. Solo al recibir el programa de conferencias me enteré de que me iba a preceder otra conferenciante con el mismo tema. Por esto m e decidi a cambiar de tema y comentar un aspecto de contenido, que me habia llamado la atenciôn, en el contexto de la época.

principio al raciocinio propio de cada individuo. Solo en el üldmo tercio del siglo XVIII se convierte en un programa de ilustracion de los demás y un proceso social de educaciôn. 2. Otro aspecto (y consecuencia del primero) se refiere a la disdnciôn entre cognitio histoma y cognitio philosophica (Chrisdan Wolff), es decir entre la inteligencia, el conocimiento de hechos dados por una parte y la facultad de razonamiento, de juicio, (el senudo comûn), por otra parte. Solo la segunda—cognitio philosophica, la facultad de juicio—nos permite la cognition individual e independiente de conexiones causales. (Lo mismo dice la famosa formula de Kant acerca de la emancipation intelectual individual. Kant también distingue entre aprender y razonar individualmente). 3. El tercer punto es la idea de perfectibilidad—en un principio perfectibilidad del juicio filosôfico y cambiando de sentido hacia una notion ingenuamente optimista de perfectibilidad de la mente humana e instituciones sociales. De estas ideas programâticas résulta la revision o, en la práctica, simplemente el rechazo de tradiciones normativas autoritativas. Complementos ulteriores forman: a) una ética estrictamente racional, b) la idea de la igualdad natural de los individuos como seres dotados de la facultad de razonar, c) la idea de un juicio humano general (Locke: common sense). Segûn Kant el juicio humano no conoce otro àrbitro que el juicio humano general del cual cada individuo está dotado, pero lo está en mayor o menor grado; el individuo nunca es dueno de un juicio perfecto. De ahi se dériva la idea del control pûblico mutuo de los juicios individuales que supone la libertad de la palabra y la articulation pûblica y, por consiguiente, también la reclamation de una prensa periodica libre como medio de articulation y comunicaciôn eficaz. Se entiende la ambivalencia inherente de nociones que se pueden y se suelen independizar de sus contextos originales, falsificàndose parcialmente, como es el caso con las de emancipation y de igualdad que conducen a la asimilaciôn de minon'as en una sociedad burguesa mayoritaria. Esa sociedad burguesa se forma en los siglos XVII, XVIII y XIX como consecuencia de procesos socio-econômicos que comienzan con el mercantilismo y continûan gestândose durante el desarrollo del capitalismo y la industrialization europea. Supongo aqui que las diferencias entre la ilustracion europea, que no es uniforme, y la haskalâ son conocidas en sus rasgos generales. Quisiera recordar ûnicamente la diferencia de fases diacrônicas que hubo entre estos dos movimientos: la ilustracion tuvo su punto de arranque en el siglo XVII, se ardculô plenamente en el siglo siguiente y condujo a lo que—en un sentido restrictivo se liama la era moderna europea del siglo XIX. La haskalâ se desarrollo más o menos entre 1770 y la década d e l 8 8 0 / 9 0 . Es decir, la haskalâ empezô cuando las nociones originarias, filosôficas de la ilustracion estaban a punto de sufrir el primer cambio significativo, ο sea, el cambio de la aclaraciôn de las nociones del pen-

samiento individual hacia la ilustracion ο indoctrination de los demás, de grupos de la sociedad, hecho que marca el enlace de emancipation con asimilaciôn social. Al llegar a los anos 1880-1890, el judaismo europeo habia experimentado ya tantas manifestaciones de andsemidsmo que algunas de las consecuencias fueron la primera aliya a Palesdna (1882) durante los pogroms en Rusia (188184) y la fondation del sionismo politico (primer congreso sionista en Basel 1897). La sociedad otomana, dentro de la cual vive la judia, no conoce la modernizaciôn socio-econômica de las demás sociedades europeas, es decir, muestra el estancamiento en sus estructuras tradicionales con escasas excepciones de poco efecto. Al mismo tiempo vive un proceso de apertura, adaptândose a los fenômenos de la vida cultural e intelectual europea. Este hecho abre paso a una occidentalizaciôn que 11evará, junto con factores econômicos y las causas del desmembramiento del Imperio, a un estado de semicolonizaciôn. Faltan las condiciones econômicas para la creaciôn de nuevas profesiones, la formation de una burguesia extendida que pudiera estar interesada en una asimilaciôn de minorias o que ofreciera un interés particular de asimilaciôn a las minorias. Aunque las minorias étnicas obtienen en el curso de las reformas llamadas Tamçmat (18391876; Hall-: Çerif de Gülhane 1839 y Hatt-1 Hümajun 1856) una relativa igualdad con los demás sûbditos otomanos (1ibertad religiosa, libre acceso al ejercicio de cargos civiles), este hecho es poco efectivo en la realidad; una de las razones, no la ultima, es porque el sistema parlamentario no funciona (proclamation de la constitution en 1876 y disoluciôn del parlamento en 1878). Aunque los Jôvenes Turcos ponen la constitution de 1876 nuevamente en vigor en el aiio 1908, el poder de la fraction nacionalista de los Jôvenes Turcos significa la derogation del otomanismo liberal y federal en favor de un nacionalismo forzado. Cierto tipo de asimilaciôn no será solo la consecuencia relativamente voluntaria de una forma de emancipation racionalista burguesa de minorias, sino la exigencia de un panturquismo nacionalista frente a todas las minorias étnicas, sean islâmicas, cristianas o judias. La derogation del estado de dbimmî, que implicaba protecciôn, no se compensa con un liberalismo burgués en un sistema estatal parlamentario democrâtico. Este hecho favorece la continuation de la actitud de dhimmien forma pasiva, por parte de minorias, más allà del estado oficial. Ya no existe la protection oficial de minorias ("los pueblos del libro") y el ûnico lugar de actuation politica legal para el judio es su comunidad (Benbassa 1993: 9). Por lo tanto hay dos motivos para la falta de asimilaciôn burguesa de la sociedad judia otomana: la carencia de la evolution socio-econômica adecuada y el nacionalismo exclusivo de los Jôvenes Turcos. Vamos a ver en nuestros ardculos de periôdico como se endenden las comunidades judias en très situaciones diferentes significativas, en 1846 (Sa'are miyah, Izmir), 1912 (ElKJrbatch, Salônica) y 1940 (La Bo^de Türkiye, Istanbul). La prensa periodica arranca en el Imperio Otomano y en la sociedad judia otomana en un momento (1841/42) en el que en Occidente ya se está desarrollando el periodismo tendencioso, de parrido o de combate. ‫־‬Kerum cognoscere eausas, aclarar las ideas, ya no es el lema principal, más bien: propagar e indoctrinar.

De la gran diversidad del periodismo judeoespanol he escogido très numéros a modo de ejemplo: Sa 'are Mi^rah, "ano primo, n° 13, Izmir, miercoles, el 27 av ... lp'g 5606 lysyrh" (1846, editado y dirigido por Refael Uziel Pincherle), en aljamia. El articulo de la primera página "Sovre la sensia y la educasiôn de la nasiôn"—ya impregnado de galicismos—empieza con un agradecimiento al gobierno otomano por sus "numerozos hates," [del turco] "ovras de amor," como traduce el autor, es decir, reformas en el sector de la ensenanza publica, podemos anadir, ya que este ardculo lamenta a continuation el estado de abandono intelectual de los sefardies otomanos que deberian procurar con todas sus fuerzas salir del estado de la mâs oscura ignorancia. Por lo que se refiere al Imperio Otomano, se trata, en cuanto a las reformas hasta el ano 1846, de la fûndaciôn de la Escuela Imperial de Medicina (ya en 1827, por Mehmet II, y que admida a estudiantes no musulmanes, con ensenanza en francés), de un primer "proliceo" (1841) y de la primera Universidad Otomana (1845/6). En el sector politico se habia promulgado en un primer edicto en 1839 una relativa igualdad de todos los sûbditos otomanos delante de la ley (ver arriba: Hatt-1 Çerif de Gülhane). La primera escuela moderna sefardita abrirá solo en 1854 y contra la fuerte oposiciôn por parte de los rabinos; las primeras escuelas de la Alliance Israélite Universelle en territorio otomano abrirán en 1864 en Baghdad, Damasco y Volos, en 1867 en Edirne, 1873 en Izmir, 1873 en Salônica y 1875 en Istanbul. La gran expansion de las actividades de la Alliance en el sector de la ensenanza 11egará hacia 1890. Hasta la mitad del siglo por lo menos, los judios otomanos acompanan parcialmente la occidentalizaciôn otomana. Reformas de ensenanza, adquisiciôn de ciencia, significan salir de la carencia intelectual y material. Si hay conciencia de emancipation, significa liberation de carencias elementales, lo que corresponde al concepto secularizado de salvation de la Ilustraciôn. A la hora del impacto ideolôgico de la Alliance, ésta se encuentra ya en competencia con ciertas corrientes del sionismo. Esto quiere decir que la cuesdôn de emancipation y asimilaciôn segûn el modelo liberal occidental o francés se plantea al mismo tiempo que se está concentrando el empeno de obtener el derecho de fundaciôn de un hogar nacional en Palestina. A la experiencia de carencia intelectual y material se asocia en grandes partes de la poblaciôn judia la conciencia de otra carencia: la preocupaciôn de la emancipation nacional; la emancipation intelectual ο secularization y la asimilaciôn social interesa a una parte restringida de la sociedad judia. El Kirbatch, "Salônico, ano 3, n" 29, 17 'elul 5672—30 agosto 1912; djurnal semanal humoristico, patron y director Moïz Levy," en aljamia. En el mes de agosto del ano 1912 Salônica es todavia otomana, pero será ocupada durante este mismo ano por tropas griegas. Grecia goza de independencia ya desde 1830. El Kirbatch (en la grafia latina ofrecida por el mismo periôdico!) es un periôdico satirico y la sátira va dirigida, bien entendido, a la comunidad judia. El nûmero escogido condene en la primera página un articulo rimado, ' Ύ Ά empesimos," acerca del papel que desempefia la comunidad judia

como cuerpo social. La asimilaciôn no es el tema central, y tampoco se puede esperar que lo sea, dado el nacionalismo exclusivo de los Jôvenes Turcos. Lo que se comunica al lector es más bien el dilema en que se encuentra la sociedad judia: es una minoria étnico-religiosa tolerada sin gozar de una protecciôn especifica; la comunidad como tal no dene ningun derecho a tomar parte en la vida politica del pais: "... ninguna comunidad, de ninguna parte de Turquia, / non deve ser ni blanca, ni prêta, ni amaria, / non deve ocuparse de ninguna cuesdôn politica,...," la comunidad funciona como cuerpo de asistencia social. "... es una ovra de caridad, / una institusiôn de bien azer, una sosiedad / de socorsos mutuales entre los djidyôs solamente." Además "es raprezentante d e j a nasiôn, / en cuestiones de formalidades de relijiôn; / e(1)ya non deve ocuparse de ningun otro echo; / ni de partidos, ni de politica, ni de comercho. / / Sovre todo de politica non se deve ocupar" ya que "los miembros de cada comunidad djudia, / non son aqui todos sivdadinos de Turquia." Y generalmente "demandamos mozotros que de djusto es, / que sûditos se caštereen en fechos del pais? / / ... non es djusto, ni derecho, / que la comunità se melisque en este echo, / ay también muchas otras importantes razones / que daremos sigún vernán las ocaziones." Lo ûnico que se recomienda—de manera callada—en esta situation es comportarse como dhimmî sin tener la garanda de la cual gozaba éste. Bo% de Türkiye, "director y redactor en capo" Albert Kohen, ano 2, n° 25, Istanbul, 1/8/1940; bimensual, "revista de informaciones, ciendfica y literaria," en letras latinas. El encabezamiento del periôdico hace referencia al contexto sefardi ya solo por el idioma del dtulo; por lo demás saltan a la vista los contornos de la Turquia moderna, republicana, y los de la mezquita Sultan Ahmed. Los idiomas usados en este periôdico son el turco (para noticias extracomunitarias), el francés y un judeoespanol sumamente afrancesado—se nota que los redactores piensan en francés, pero deciden escribir en judeoespanol en contextos intracomunitarios para llegar con esta parte a todas las capas de lectores posibles. Ya que se trata de una "Revista de informaciones, ciendfica y literaria," entra el francés como idioma culto. El editorial, o los éditoriales (3 y 7) con ocasiôn del primer aniversario del periôdico, propagan explicitamente la asimilaciôn a la sociedad turca como primer deber de los judios. La intensidad con que se recomienda habla por si misma. Los ardculos de ciencia (historiografia: sinagogas bizantinas en la página 14; los judios en las guerras desde el principio del s. XIX hasta el présente en las páginas 17 s.) y literatura (serie, contexto turco, empezando con la escritura turca preislâmica) representan lo que el historiador Arnos Funkenstein (1995: 194) llama interés "anticuario," cuando critica el concepto des Judentums. El extremado ahinco en la necesihistoriogrâfico de la Wissenschaft dad de asimilaciôn a la sociedad turca, mientras apenas se menciona el problema de los refugiados judios en la Europa invadida por el nazismo y acabando su primer ano de guerra, explica, a través de lo mucho que se calla, que el precio de la vida apacible es la existencia de la minoria más silenciosa posible. La

En comparaciôn con los dos ejemplos anteriores y sus contextos polîticos respectivos queda patente lo siguiente:

- E l encabezamiento de Sa'are Miyrah representa, con la referencia al verso biblico del cual procédé su titulo, el tono fundamental de la filosofia religiosa judia del siglo XIX, es decir, la insistencia en la universalidad del judaismo y de su Dios. El judaismo de esta manera desnacionalizado es una confesiôn como otras y corresponde al concepto de los reformadores judios europeos. Paralelamente el concepto de salvation se basa en la ciencia, en la education por el saber, segun el precepto bàsico de la Ilustraciôn. - E l articulo referido de El Kirbatch muestra un ejemplo de la continuation del comportamiento de dhimmi mâs allà de la vigencia legal de este estado y en favor del concepto de unidad de religion y nation. Y es lôgico, podemos aiïadir, que de esta situaciôn, combinada con mâs factores, resuite a la larga otra soluciôn politica: un ano después de la declaration Balfour (1917) se prescindirá de la definition de comunidad étnico-religiosa para hablar de aqui en adelante de "nation," formando un Consejo nacional judio a partir del 17 de noviembre de 1918 con el fin de recoger y reorganizar la diàspora (Benbassa 1993: 197 ss.). - L o s dos articulos de La Bo% de Tiirkiye con la ocasiôn del primer aniversario de la revista muestran la renuncia al concepto de nation judia: El ideal al cual se consacro "La Boz de Tûrkiye" ... hacer progresar la asimilacion de los Israelitas turcos ... render este judaismo conforme al turquismo y despiertarlo a la cultura y al senso nacional, y enfin a esfuerzarse a destruir las viejas custumbres absurdas que recuerdan el caracter estranjero y a remplasarlas por un penchante que valla en harmonisandose con la ambiansa nacional, ...." La revista "se mostra, en la mano de cada joven Israelita, ser un "code" de la santedad del turquismo y de sus usansas ...(3) ... reflectando ... los sentimientos de infectible lealismo de los Judios turcos, hijos fideles de esta Patria enverso la Turquia y sus atamiento a nuestra Republica" y "Los asuntos comunales fueron tratados con discrecion y bujquimos a eliminar todo espiritu de critica. (7)

La qehilla otomana se ha convertido en una comunidad 1itúrgica y de asistencia social. Servirse del género traditional por excelencia, el comentario biblico, para llegar a un publico amplio, no es nada sorprendente, dado el éxito del Me'am Lo'e% aunque, sin duda, hay que tener en cuenta que tanto el publico de lectores como la variedad de textos ofrecidos al interés del gran publico han cambiado en el curso del siglo XIX. El Me'am Lo'eZ Šir HaŠirim de Hayyim Yshaq Saki (1899), es el ultimo tomo del conjunto iniciado por Huli en 1730, y no es aqui el lugar de comentar su diferencia con el Me 'am Lo'e% clàsico y el de transition. El texto aljamiado comprende 128 páginas e incluye un corto Prefas y una Haqdama que situa el Šir HaŠirim en la tradiciôn segûn la forma y el contenido. La parte principal, siguiendo el texto comentado verso por verso, aduce los comentarios tradicionales mâs conocidos del Talmud, del Midraš y de autores medievales. El propôsito es dar consuelo y orientation en términos generales al hamon ha- 'am. N o le preocupa mucho a nuestro autor el panorama exhaustivo de los comentarios acerca del Sir HaŠirim, y todavia menos la mention de un texto tan elitista como el del Rabi Levi ben Gerson (1326). Šaki se identifica con el

papel de intermediario en beneficio de la comunidad (papel adoptado de manera ejemplar, segûn la tradiciôn, por el rey Salomon), para finalmente trasladarlo a cada persona dotada de entendimiento, independientemente de que sea digna de hacerlo, es decir, de que sea ordenada o no en sus cosas personales (57 s.). Se nota bastante pronto, aunque nos lo dice el autor solo después de la primera mitad de su texto, que no es su objeto exponer los midrašim (64: "... el eskopo de nuesto livro no es por deklarar los midrašim, ..."). Ya unas veinte páginas antes avisa explicitamente al lector (41-43) que su intenciôn es argumentar en contra de la asimilaciôn (je. asemejansa) considerando que la renuncia a vivir la propia idenddad no conduce a una convivencia apacible; a este propôsito cita—qal vahomer—un mašalmuy conocido (42 s.): ... trae un esemplo el Talmud, de unos pescados estando en la mar y viendo que venian personas por pescarlos, se ivan fu(1)iend0 y escondiendo más adientro. En la oria de la mar se topava la rapoza. Viendo alos pescados ke están fu(l)iendo y escondiéndosen en el fondo d e j a mar, les propoza de salirsen d e j a mar y de adjuntarsen a e(1)ya a bivir en djuntos. O dezmeo(l)yada—le responden los pescados—tû no eres un intelijente animal ma que un torpe. Si en_el lugar onde es nuestra bivienda y nuestro abrigo, ainda nos estamos espantando, como séria nuestra suerte si salimos de aqui i nos vamos onde no puedemos bivir ni un momento? Es ansi lo.ke nozotros queremos dezir, si en estando en_el judaizmo y solamente por algunas siertas mancuras y negras ovras que tenemos, estamos sonportando tantos maies, cômo séria nuestra sorte si abandonamos enteramente los comandos de nuestra relijiôn?

Si la haskalâ convierte el desarrollo tardio de la ilustracion dentro del contexto de la asimilaciôn y la secularization de grandes sectores de la vida, sea por via politica de la reforma, sea por la dificil via doble, diversificada de varias maneras, de nation espiritual y pertenencia politica, p o d e m o s observar en Šaki cômo consciente—o inconscientemente—reanuda el r u m b o de la ilustracion originaria elucidando el proceso de aclaraciôn de una idea central de la época. El Midraš nos da la palabra clave con el término "hermenéutica." El arte de la hermenéutica está originariamente relacionada con la esfera de lo sagrado. Traduce un pensamiento que ordena. Es a la vez comunicaciôn de voluntad autoritativa y exigencia de obediencia. Sin embargo, haciendo abstraction formai, se puede decir que el rendimiento de la hermenéutica consiste en traduàr un contexto significative de un mundo ajeno a un mundo propio. Šaki actualiza en su Meam Loe% Šir HaŠirim este m o m e n t o formai de la hermenéutica contra la asimilaciôn y en favor de la propagation del sionismo politico. Recuerda que la igualdad résulta de la dote natural básica de la razôn y no puede significar nivelaciôn de formas del vivir en favor de un solo grupo social, sino emancipation del individuo guiado por la razôn. Y la emancipation del judio como tal consiste en el sionismo politico. De esta manera traduce Šaki consecuentemente el contexto significativo de "emancipaciôn" a su propio mundo, aceptando todo el espectro, incluso la problemàtica, de identidades judias. Esto confirma también la llamada final a la unidad (ahadut) y la solidaridad (128). Si Šaki propaga la renovation de la ensenanza del judaismo, entendida como tora šebikhtav más tora šebe'alpe (113), contra la voluntad de los maskilim de suprimir los estudios talmûdicos considerândolos obso-

letos, no significa esto necesariamente la opciôn por un conservatismo fundamentalista. La reinterpretaciôn de elementos de la tradiciôn ha servido mâs de una vez en la historia judia para agudizar la sensibilidad frente a la ambivalencia inherente de nociones claves contemporâneas y, por otra parte, para un renacimiento de propia fuerza.

Bibliografia Benbassa, E. 1993. Une diaspora en transition. Istanbul XIX'-XX1 siècles. Paris: Cerf.

Funkenstein, A. 1995. Jüdische Geschichte und ihre Deutungen. Frankfurt am Main: Jüdischer Verlag im Suhrkamp Verlag. (Original ingl. 1993. Univ. de California.)

E L IMPERATIVO EN JUDEOESPANOL ISABEL M U N O Z JIMÉNEZ Madrid, Spain

Pretendo en este trabajo describir la expresiôn del imperativo en el judeoespanol de esa época intermedia que ha dado en llamarse periodo clàsico de la cultura sefardi. El corpus elegido pertenece al Me'am lo'e% de esa época, sin duda la obra mâs importante de la literatura sefardi y donde la lengua está representada en su m o m e n t o de plena madurez, y seguramente de mayor esplendor, en ese nivel medio que se le presupone al receptor que el autor, Jacob Juli se propuso, que es el pueblo. Aunque supongo que todos ustedes lo conocen ya, en breves palabras recordaré que el Me'am lo'e% es un sistema exegérico de la Biblia en cuyo comentario denen cabida las materias mâs diversas, de la leyenda a la câbala, a través de variados discursos también, que pueden ir desde lo apologédco a lo meramente prescriptivo. El fragmento seleccionado para mi trabajo corresponde al episodio que describe las diez plagas que Dios enviô a los egipcios para que liberasen a los hebreos a quienes habian someddo a esclavitud. Del libro del É x o d o que compusiera Juli abarca concretamente los capitulos 8 al 16 de la paraM{ de Vaerá y los capitulos 2, 3 y parte del 9 de la paralâ de Bo. E n la Biblia se localiza desde el capitulo 7, versiculo 14 hasta el capitulo 12, versiculo 30 del libro de Exodo. He utilizado la ediciôn de Constanrinopla de 1733, primera de las ocho que se hicieron del libro de Juli. 2 Además de esta base documental, he tenido en cuenta el texto del Ma'asé de un rey que non tenia hijos, version judeoespafiola del cuento hebreo La Nodri^a judia3 en cuatro ediciones que pertenecen a diferentes épocas: la de Constandnopla de 1776, la de Belgrado de 1853, la version del mismo cuento que aparece en el Me'am lo'e^de Josué editado en Salônica en 1867, y finalmente otra ediciôn de Salônica también de 1891. Aunque la dimension de estos textos es escasa, los hace valiosos el hecho de que sea el mismo el contexto lingûisdco para las formas que analizamos, porque hace mâs significativas las diferencias o las coincidencias registradas y nos permite apreciar su grado de integraciôn en el sistema. El m o d o imperativo como procedimiento morfolôgico flexional tiene su expresiôn en espanol, como sabemos, solo en las segundas personas del verbo, pero

Las paraiiyot (plural de paraÍá) son las partes o secciones en que se divide tradicionalmente el texto biblico para su compléta lectura anual por semanas. Para la transcripciôn del texto he seguido el sistema adoptado en la revista Estudios Sefardies, expuesto por Iacob M. Hassan en "Transcripciôn normalizada de textos judeoespanoles." Estudios Sefardies 1, 1978, 147-150. Los textos pertenecen a un trabajo de Pilar Romeu, quien muy amablemente me los ha facilitado ya transcritos para mi estudio.

su contenido apeladvo puede ser expresado de otras formas: el modo subjundvo y el futuro imperfecto de indicadvo (además del infinidvo) son algunas de ellas. Esto sucede en castellano y sucede en judeoespanol. E n efecto, en los 144 fragmentos que he seleccionado del corpus del Me'am lo'e^ de las 169 formas registradas con valor imperadvo, 61 corresponden al imperadvo "propio," 24 están expresadas en subjundvo y 54 en futuro imperfecto de indicadvo. Como hipôtesis de trabajo propongo una precision de la signification apeladva que corresponde al imperadvo. A los valores clàsicos c0múnmente aceptados por todos los gramâdcos de ruego, petition, invitaciôn, sûplica orientadas en el présente y hacia el futuro, e incluso de reconvention o reprensiôn de hechos pasados, 4 además del consabido de orden y mandato, anadiria yo otros dos que son la condicionalidad y la admonition. Condicionar es de alguna manera orientar la conducta del receptor. Y esta relation de condicionalidad e imperadvo está reflejada en esas estructuras condicionales construidas a partir de una forma imperativa de las que hemos llamado "propias" en la protasis en correlation con una conjunciôn copulativa que introduce la apôdosis (normalmente en futuro, ο con valor de futuro), en frases del dpo: Ha% esoj trìunfarâs. E n el corpus seleccionado hay 12 ocurrencias de esta estructura. Exponemos dos de ellas como ejemplo: ... Y esto es lo que dice: [...] (el Faraôn dirigiéndose a Moisés) "escdpame de esta muerte j más no tertiàs trabajo con mi..." (41 A, 55, 56) ... y hacé h e l b ô n y veréš que todo lo que tomaron (los judios) n o será el cuarto de lo que les debéš de dar... (65 B, 49-50)

La utilization de la forma imperadva para expresar la condition, a mi m o d o de ver, pone de manifiesto la profunda relation sendda por el hablante entre la condicionalidad y la funciôn apelativa propia del imperadvo. En cuanto al valor admonitorio al que antes me referia, lo encontramos en esas formas de futuro imperfecto de indicadvo usados con valor imperadvo. En castellano el valor modal que corresponde fundamentalmente a esta forma suele ser el prescripdvo o futuro de mandato (muchas veces con valor gnômico, con proyecciôn temporal indefinida o validez intemporal, como No matarás). E n nuestro corpus aparece el futuro de mandato solo en 3 ocasiones: una con proyecciôn hacia el futuro y dos proyectados en el présente. En cambio, predominan otros valores entre los que destaca ese valor admonitorio mencionado (más de cincuenta ocurrencias), entendido este término en el senrido que le da la Real Academia de: cualidad de hacer présente alguna cosa para que se considéré, procure 0 évité / advertir (fijar en algo la atenciôn), reparar, observar / aconsejar, amonestar, ensenar, prévenir / avisar con amenais / caer en la cuenta, (hoy desusado). Como la condicionalidad, creo que la admonition (= amonestaciôn (advertencia), reconvention), también es una forma de "dirigir," proyectar, orientar o como prefiera decirse, la conducta del receptor. Algunos ejemplos pueden ser los siguientes: El anâlisis pormenorizado de esta cuesdôn y las teferencias respecdvas se hallan en el ardeulo de Gonzalez Calvo, J. M. 1980. "Nueva consideraciôn del imperadvo." Anuario de Estudios Filo/ogicos 3, 57-75; de él hemos parrido para nuestro estudio.

...Y es que sabréi que este hôsej que contimos n o era si-no para los misriyim... (42 A, 47-48) ...Y sabréi que en aquellos dias p u j ô la luz para Yisrael mâs que siempre... (42 A, 58-59) ...Que ternéiquedemandar qué hejréah tuvo la Ley de decirlo esto... (42 A, 60—61) ...Y ternéi que demandar que en la perašá de " N ô a h " avisimos... (42 B, 46-47) ...Ma sabréi que siendo en la maká del arbé les dio odren que se fueran los h o m b r e s y dejaran a su famia... (42 B, 51)

Todos estos usos coinciden con los del castellano, y aunque hay que sefialarlos, lo mâs interesante es precisamente la descripciôn de esas formas que aparecen disdntas y que pueden representar un rasgo caracterisdco de la lengua sefardi. E n este senudo, he detectado la alternancia de formas propias de imperadvo de 2a persona de plural. De 18 casos registrados, 11 aparecen con el morfema -d final y 7 sin él: —hacé (5), mira que tengal, allegá, tomà, 0drená (2), andá,y —alevantad, salid, andad (2), servid (3), 0id, 0j1d (5) Y aunque, en principio, me habia propuesto que el estudio fuese ûnicamente descripdvo, no puedo resistir la tentation de interpretar esta vacilaciôn. Tratándose de un autor culto como es Juli, no puede pensarse que estas formas de imperadvo que aparecen sin el morfema -d final se deban a un descuido en su pronunciation, sino que están representado una realization del sistema sefardi en el terreno de la fonética articulatoria mâs innovador que cl castellano. Lo que me parece muy interesante porque nos advierte de que hay que tomarse con grandes reservas el conservadurismo que secularmente se le achaca al judeoespanol. Sabemos que la -d final riende a desaparecer, a interdentalizarse o a confundir su pronunciation con la de la r. se puede oir Madn, Madriζ o Venir a casa. De ahi el uso alternadvo del infinidvo por esa 2' persona del plural. Otra cuesdôn es cuando a estas formas de imperadvo de 2' persona del plural se les une el pronombre personal enclidco. Si se trata del referente àtono vos (os en espanol) el comportamiento es idéntico al castellano, se elide la -d final, es el caso de andâvos, contentâvos. Pero si el pronombre es de 3' persona, se produce una amalgama con metátesis de di a Id. En nuestro corpus sucede este fenômeno en los très casos en que aparece ese pronombre enclidco: tomaldas, respondelde, demandalde. En este caso no encontramos alternancia con la forma normadva castellana en la parte del corpus correspondiente al Me'am lo'ey en la del cuento solo en la version de Salônica de 1867 aparece la forma demandâle (en analogia con vos), en el resto se repite la forma con metátesis. Este uso era normal en la peninsula en la época de la expulsion, y aún siguiô pracdcàndose hasta la época de Calderôn, a pesar de las protestas de Juan de Valdés que lo reprueba y aconseja su uso separado, 5 pero desde luego ya estaba desterrado en la época en que Juli escribe su obra. Pienso que quizá pudiera interpretarse como un rasgo de conservadurismo, opinion que no presento como concluyente por la limitation del corpus.

5

Ver Lapesa, R. 1962. Historia de la lengua espanola. 7* ed. Madrid, 250.

Por ultimo, comentaré una estructura que aparece en el Me'am lo'e£ a base de la union de dos imperadvos para formar una perifrasis verbal, que no tiene paralelo en castellano y que, por tanto, caracterizaria al judeoespanol de forma decidida. He encontrado 5 testimonios de estas formaciones, que pueden hacerse con la conjunciôn y ο sin ella entre los verbos, y que en cuatro casos presentan valor aspectual de carácter incoativo y en uno valor modal. Asi, leemos: ... Y llamô par'ô a Mosé y Aharon y dijo: -[...] Andavos y allegà corbân delantre de güestro Dio... (Ex 8,21) (35 B, 46-47) ... estonces [Par'ô] dijo claro: -Alevantad salid de dientro de mi pueblo tanbién vosotros, tanbién los hijos de Yisrael... (Ex 8,31). (36 A, 39-40) ... Y agora manda y aco£e a tu ganado y a todo lo que a d en_el canpo... (Ex 9,19). (37 A, 59-60) ... Y llamô Par'ô a Mosé y dijo: -Andadservid a H[ašem], sola-mente güestras oveias y güestras vacas se queden en su lugar, tanbién güestra famía andará con vosotros... (Ex 10,24). (42 Β, 45—46) ... (Par'ô) iba gritando diciendo: —.Alevantá sali de dientro de mi pueblo tanbién vosotros los varones, tanbién los hijos de Yisrael que son la famia y andad servid a H[ašem] como güestras hablas, todos segûn di)isteš. Se haga baielio que yo dije que no vos mando, y lo que dije quen y quen son los andantes, y lo que dije: "tanbién güestras ovej as, tanbién güestras vacas se detengan," todas estas hablas que vos dije estonces, sean baldadas, y vosotros, andâ hacé lo que enve1untáš. Y tanbién güestras ovejas y tanbién güestras vacas tomaldas segûn hablastes y andâvos una hora antes... (Ex 12,31, 32). (64 A, 59-64 B, 2)

En todos los casos esta expresiôn aparece integrada en un discurso que no es propiamente el del Juli-narrador, sino en lo que es la cita biblica. De todos es sabido el respeto a los textos sagrados por parte de los comentaristas judios de la Biblia, que exige su traslado literal. De cualquier manera, la pretension de mi trabajo es sobre todo descriptiva y la interpretaciôn queda para los expertos en la lengua hebrea que se esconde detrás de estas expresiones. Lo mismo digo para otra formation anâloga que aparece en el cuentecito. E n este caso se trata de la union de dos fûturos para formar una perifrasis con valor modal similar al registrado en el caso del doble imperadvo. Ejemplo: ... Dijo el rey:

—[...] decime vosotros onde h a y j mandaréy traeré... (Constandnopla, 1766) C o m o vemos es anâlogo al anterior: ... Y agora manda y acoge a tu ganado y a todo lo que a d en_el canpo... (37 A, 59-60)

E n ambos casos el valor modal de mandato que el verbo auxiliar confiere al verbo lexemâtico, está indicando que el sujeto es activo pero no agente. Por lo demás, el cuento en sus 4 versiones reproduce el resto de lo dicho sobre el imperadvo, y viene a confirmar la posible integration en el sistema de las formas senaladas. Sin embargo una afirmaciôn rotunda en este sentido solo podrà hacerse tras el anâlisis de una mayor cantidad y variedad de textos.

C 0 N S I D E R A C I 0 N E S SOBRE LA EVOLUC10N HISTÔRICA DE LA PRENSA JUDEOESPANOLA EN T U R Q U Î A Y EN LOS BALCANES

Isaac Papo Aix en Provence, France

Esta nota n o se p r o p o n e analizar los contenidos ni tampoco las cuestiones lingüisdcas relacionadas con la prensa judeoespanola desde mediados del siglo XIX hasta 1941. T o d o s estos temas han sido exhaustivamente tratados en araculos y monografias. 1 Solo se analiza el contexto histôrico-cultural del entorno, que acompanô durante casi un siglo la evolution de la prensa en lengua vernâcula en letra rashi, excepto en unas pocas publicaciones en las ultimas fases en letra ladna.

Introduction Los limites objetivos de la creation literaria en lengua sefardi residen fundamentalmente en la escasa consistencia demogrâfica de la poblaciôn judia hispanoparlante, que n o parece haber pasado nunca de las 300 000 aimas, en su dispersiôn y en la falta de una autoridad central. N o puede por lo tanto compararse la minoria sefardi con la griega y la armenia m u c h o mâs numerosas, organizadas y provistas de autoridades centrales. Por las mismas razones n o se puede proponer una comparaciôn de la creation literaria en lengua yidish, cuya difusiôn era entre 20 y 30 veces mayor. Aparte de la imposibilidad del judeoespanol de renovarse por falta de publico, y de respaldo de la antigua madré patria, existen algunas semejanzas, al menos en las fases iniciales, con el renacimiento cultural de todas las minorias y no solo en el espacio turco-balcânico. Volviendo a la prensa sefardi, se puede aproximadamente calcular, desde luego de una manera hipotédca, el nûmero màximo de potenciales lectores en coincidencia con el tope del desarrollo demogrâfico de la minoria—a finales del siglo XIX y en la primera década del siglo XX—antes de que empezaran, por razones diferentes, el proceso de emigration p o r un lado y de asimilaciôn cultural "in loco" p o r el otro. E n la sociedad traditional, educada en los "meldarim" y en los "Talmudei T o r a h " el analfabedsmo era prácdcamente inexistente en los varones. E n la poblaciôn femenina, en cambio, la instruction era m u c h o mâs rudimentaria—excepto en contadas ocasiones—en el àmbito de las familias. D e estas carencias educativas derivaba una tasa de analfabedsmo (Rodrigue 1990) considerable, incluso en las clases acomodadas. A partir de 1870, y sobre todo en la década de 1880, gracias a la introduction pauladna de la education moder1

Cf. Galante 1935, 1936, 1941; Gaon 1965; Hassan 1966; Sephiha 1979: 96-106; Romero 1992: 178-219; Benbassa-Rodrigue 1993.

na occidental, la instruction mejora, se introducen los idiomas modernos y la letra ladna (Rodrigue 1990; Fitz Menascé 1992). E n las escuelas de la "Alliance Israélite Universelle" de los centros mayores (Salônica, Istanbul, Esmirna, Edirne) los varones siguieron, por lo menos hasta la primera década del siglo XX, aprendiendo el judeoespanol escrito en la letra rashi y en solitreo gracias a las clases de religion en las cuales los rabinos empleaban el judeoespanol escrito y oral. E n las "écoles des filles," en cambio, el numéro de horas de religion era muy reducido (2 horas en lugar de 10) (Rodrigue 1989: 30-39), asi fueron muy pocas las que aprendieron—gracias a sus entornos tradicionales—el judeoespanol escrito en rashi. T o d o el m u n d o continuô empleando el vernâculo como lengua coloquial. Se deduce de esta consideration que el publico de potenciales lectores—cuàntos fueran los efecdvos lectores ya es otra cuesdôn—puede calcularse entre 100 000 y 200 000, un numéro en todo caso minimo si se compara con las demás poblaciones que empezaron al mismo uempo a renovar idiomas, creaciones literarias, etc.

Renovation cultural en los Balcanes y en Turquia E n los territorios turcos, a pesar de la mejoria de las condiciones socioeconômicas y culturales de la poblaciôn sefardi, determinaron una mayor disponibilidad para la lectura de las diferentes producciones literarias, el publico especificamente judeoespanol empezô a reducirse ya al comienzo del siglo XX. E n Bulgaria, esto ocurriô antes, el idioma nacional fue rápidamente difundiéndose en la poblaciôn judia tras la independencia, asi es que en 1910 la tasa de analfabetismo en bûlgaro en los Judios era mucho más baja que en los propios Bûlgaros: poco más del 1% en los Judios, 10,91% en los Bûlgaros ortodoxos, 28,17% en los Griegos, 3,45% en los Armenios, 93,13% en los Turcos y 91,15% en los Gitanos (Mezan; Tamir 1979: 109). Si bien otros (Arié) no comparten por entero esta vision optimista (Benbassa-Rodrigue 1992: 325-326, 329), sobre todo por su resistencia a abandonar la ensenanza de la AIU en francés, es cierto que los conocimientos y el uso de la lengua local eran incomparablemente más difusos en Bulgaria y en las comunidades de Grecia anexadas tras la independencia (Volo, Larissa) que en todos los territorios aûn bajo soberania turca. Lo propio ocurriô en Bosnia-Hercegovina donde la ensenanza en francés no llegô nunca. A principios de la época de los Tanzimat, la cultura traditional no fue ôbice para que las comunidades judias tomaran parte, segûn sus posibilidades, a la renovation global del área. Esta tuvo aspectos diferentes, relacionados con el nivel cultural de la poblaciôn a la que se referia. E n Serbia fueron renovados el alfabeto cirilico y el propio idioma por Vuk Karadic (1816-50), que también publico el primer diccionario; en Bulgaria las primeras gramáticas fueron publicadas en 1834 y en 1844; en Grecia apareciô una nueva lengua literaria basada en el lenguaje popular (demôrica). E n los anos 1860, hace su apariciôn la prensa armenia, la turca en 1830 con una publication oficial y en 1840 con una oficiosa, mientras la prensa francesa es anterior (en 1795, 1796 y 97 en las publicaciones

oficiales de la Embajada francesa). Los primeros periôdicos franceses datan de 1824 (Esmirna); luego se muldplicaron rápidamente. E n la primera parte del siglo empieza su vida la prensa en inglés (Levant Herald, etc.), propiciada por la acdvidad de las misiones protestantes sobre todo en Esmirna y en Istanbul. Recordamos que la prensa yidish dio sus primeros pasos en Galicia (Lemberg 1848 y mâs regularmente a partir de 1869), en Rumania Qassy 1855-56, Bucarest 1874—93); en Rusia los primeros mensuales datan de 1881 y las publicaciones del "Bund" socialista, de 1896.

Primera fase de la prensa judeo-espanola Las primeras publicaciones judeoespanolas (Galante 1935; Franco 1897: 2 7 7 282) salieron en Esmirna (1846), Viena (1856-66), Istanbul (1853-60), en esta ultima ciudad apareciô en judeoespanol, un periôdico ilustrado "El manadero," publicado (1855-58) por la misiôn x protestante. El "Journal Israelit" de Yehezekiel Gabay—emanation de los Camondo—durô 13 afios (1860-1873). La prensa judeoespanola fue desarrollândose, aumentando el numéro de atulos y de lectores bajo Abdul Mejid, Abdul Aziz y luego Abdul Hamid. Algunas de las publicaciones de mâs envergadura y duration datan del principio de los anos 1870 ("El Tiempo," "El Telegraf" de Istanbul, "La Esperanza" de Esmirna, "La Época" de Salônica). E n aquella época, la instruction occidental se referia a un porcentaje muy bajo de la poblaciôn (escuelas extranjeras reservadas para alumnos de las clases mâs holgadas) (Rodrigue 1990). El camino de la Alliance empieza en Edirne en 1867, pero su difusiôn masiva dene lugar solo a partir de los anos 70, y aun mâs, en la década 80-90. En las comunidades mâs pequenas (Rodas, Îanakalé, Manissa etc.) la "Alliance'' empezô a funcionar mâs tarde pero monopolizô por completo la ensenanza primaria. E n cierto senddo, sobre todo en la época hamidiana, la prensa judeoespanola tuvo la vida mâs fâcil que la propia prensa turca (Lewis 1988). E n efecto, tras el Boledn oficial de 1831, siguiô el oficioso, "Ceruse-i-Havadis" (Diario de noticias) de 1840. Bajo Abdul Aziz, fautor de la modernidad—fundô en 1868 el Liceo Franco-Turco de Galata Saray—pero también de la censura, Chenasi fundo en 1862 con otros, el primer gran periôdico liberal "Tasvik-i-Efkât" (El retrato de la opinion). Sin embargo el "Muhbir" (1867) fue rápidamente clausurado. E n 1878, ya bajo Abdul Hamid—tras el breve intermezzo de las reformas de Midhat Pacha—initio la publication del importante "Tercüman-i-Hakikat" (El intérprete de la verdad). En la época de Abdul Hamid, très periôdicos fueron clausurados; en 1891 solo sobrevivian très diarios controlados y subvencionados; "Tercüman-iHakikat," con unos 15 000 ejemplares, el "Ikdam" (El fuego) con unos 12 000 y el "Sabah" (La mafiana) (Lewis 1988: 133-136, 168-173). E n esta misma época aparecen algunos de los mâs difusos periôdicos judeoespafioles: "El Avenir" y "El nuevo Avenir" en Salônica, "El Meserret" en Esmirna, "El comercial" en Esmirna. Mientras los opositores declarados del régimen, publicaron, durante los ùltimos cuatro anos de la autocracia, en el Cairo (Galante 1935).

E n la época de Abdul Hamid, aparece en Salônica la primera prensa en francés. "Le Journal de Salonique," ôrgano de la burguesía local sale en 1895, y tiene, al parecer, unos 5000 lectores; luego se publican "Le Progrès de Salonique" y "L'indépendant." (Dumont 1993a).

Comentario Si un comentario se puede hacer sobre esta primera fase de la historia de la prensa judeoespanola en los territorios turcos (en Bulgaria la situaciôn era ya entonces fundamentalmente diferente), se puede decir que en este tema los judios siguieron la corriente de modernization, dictada en todas partes por diferentes influencias extranjeras (internas y ajenas al judaismo): haskalâ, presencia de francos, influencias francesas, alemanas y centroeuropeas en general, anglosajonas, e italianas. La debilidad del millet judio no le permite crear nada nuevo, pero tampoco debe considerarse particularmente atrasado en aceptar la modernization. Los contenidos de la prensa reflejan las tendencias del tiempo (traducciones de clàsicos, vulgarization ciendfica, information local) y coinciden con las corrientes positivistas del pensamiento. Segûn los testimonios de la época, la prensa de Istanbul, y en particular "El Tiempo," tuvo también larga difusiôn en el hinterland balcânico y seíìa1adamente en Bulgaria (Galante 1935; Tamir 1979: 109). E n esta época, que finaliza con la revolution de 1908, la lengua escrita (en rashi) no constituye un problema pues toda la poblaciôn masculina la conoce y la emplea, si hace falta. E n la poblaciôn femenina, el problema ya se plantea y la lengua escrita, al menos en las capas más aculturadas, es cada dia más el francés o, más raramente, el italiano o el alemân.

Bulgaria, Serbia, Macedonia Ya he destacado que en Bulgaria la evolution lingüistica siguiô otro rumbo; el francés fue eliminado de las escuelas de las AIU por los sionistas, ya mayoritarios en la primera década del siglo XX, en 1910, y reemplazado por el bûlgaro. Hay pues que tomar en consideration dos factores propios de la situaciôn bûlgara: la implantation del idioma local que llevô de una manera inevitable a la decadencia del judeoespanol escrito y el carácter sionista militante de la mayoria de la poblaciôn, con implantation de la ensenanza del hebreo. E n Bulgaria, se publico "El amigo del puevlo" del que habla Canetti en el primer tomo de sus memorias (Canetti 1985). Ese periôdico publicado antes en Belgrado (1887-88) tuvo una considerable difusiôn en la burguesia de Serbia y Bulgaria. Durante unos pocos anos, a principio del siglo, se publico "La alvorada" fundada por Abraham Capon en Sarajevo, donde tuvo solo un ano de vida. La prensa en general adoptô un contenido más ideolôgico, mayoritariamente sionista ("El dia" 1897-1914, " H a - S h o f a r " 1901-1931 y luego, hasta 1935, en bûlgaro, "Ha-Tikva" 1923-32, "El djudjo 1927-29) o marxista ("El ovrador judio, "El puevlo"). Se cuentan en la historia de prensa sefardi unas 50 publicaciones en judeoespanol, muchas de corta duration, unas 70 en bûlgaro y 7 en

hebreo (Tamir 1979: 110). A partir de 1909, todas la publicaciones de los marxistas muy minoritarios, salieron en lengua bûlgara ("Evrejiski Rabotnik," "Bratsvo," "Evrejiski Viesd," "Evrejiski Misai," "Evrejiski Rabotnichenski Front," "Pro Causa Judaica," "Podem," "Evrejiski Pregled"). La primera fue "Evrejiski Rabotnik" que apareciô en 1909; la mayoria son posteriores a la primera guerra mundial. 2 La lengua bûlgara ocupô muy pronto el terreno de la condenda ideolôgica y, por supuesto, de la information. Sin embargo, como observa Canetd en el segundo tomo de su autobiografia (Canetd 1985a), su primo y destacado sionista, Bernard Arditi —emigrô ya en 1924 a Palestina—en el mismo ano, tenia sus discursos pûblicos en judeoespanol para que lo entendieran mejor. Segûn los datos de Kalev (Benbassa-Rodrigue 1993) en los anos veinte, el 89,3 % de la poblaciôn declaraba que el judeoespanol era su lengua materna hablada, mientras este porcentaje, baja al 57,86 % ya en 1934. Segûn las fechas de apariciôn y desapariciôn de las publicaciones en vernâculo parece, como en todas partes, existir un considerable décalage entre la desapariciôn de la lengua escrita y de la lengua oral, que sobreviviô unas décadas más. Paradôjicamente los ûnicos defensores del judeoespanol como lengua nacional de la minoria judia, fueron los comunistas B. Mevorach y N. Isakov que deseaban de todas maneras contrarrestar la difusiôn del hebreo en la mayoria de la poblaciôn (Tamir 1979: 154). En todos los territorios de la antigua Yugoslavia en que se asentaron colonias sefardies—Bosnia-Hercegovina, Macedonia y Serbia—la prensa judeoespanola tuvo un desarrollo esporâdico y en general temporal, sobre todo por razonés demogrâficas. Globalmente, habia poco más de 28000 hispano-parlantes en visperas de la segunda guerra mundial. Las manifestaciones literarias de más envergadura fueron en lengua serbocroata (O. Davicho, I. Samokovljia, K. Baruch) excepto en el teatro que gozô de una gran difusiôn, hasta la ûltima guerra. "El amigo del puevlo" se publico en Belgrado solo en 1887-88 y "La Alvorada," editada antes en Ploesd e impresa en Ruse, solo durô en Sarajevo un ano (1901-02). Lo que más llama la atenciôn es la persistencia del idioma judeoespanol, tanto en Serbia como en BosniaHercegovina y sobre todo en Macedonia, region lejana y aislada. Se desarrollo además un movimiento intelectual sefardita que llegô a expresarse en algunos ardculos en vernâculo con letra latina en la revista "Ievrejiski zivot" (La vida judia) y en "El mundo sefardi" editado en Viena e impreso en Bulgaria (Benbassa-Rodrigue 1993; Vidakovic-Petrov 1983). Sin embargo, K. Baruch escribia en esta ûltima revista, portavoz de los intelectuales sefardies: El numéro de publikasiones y gazetas sefarditas va diminuendo. Y lo ke oy se publika es un ensamblaze topados y rekozidos en los mas eskuros kantones de la plaza zurnalistika de la Ebropa oksidental. Pensamos ke el yudioespanjol ni fue nunka ni dene la fuersa de abastecer a las premuras kulturales de una sosiedad moderna de edukasion y pretensiones europeas. (1923)

Cf. Benbassa-Rodrigue 1993; Publicaciôn Oficial: La Salvador! de la pobladôn hebrea en Bulgaria, 1941-44. Sofia: Septemuri, 1977.

El ano siguiente aparece un articulo del director de la Revista "Ievrejiski zivot" en que se justifica la publication de ardculos en judeoespanol con letra ladna (!aunque ésa no era la manera de escribir "klàsika"!) para los judios de los Balcanés que "konosen el espanjol y poko el serbo-kroato" (Vidakovic-Petrov 1983). En los territorios de la Yugoslavia monârquica, la poblaciôn sefardi, formada por las comunidades de Macedonia, anexada en 1912, tras pertenecer durante siglos a Turquia e histôrica y culturalmente perteneciente al hinterland de Salônica, las de Serbia, formalmente independiente desde principios del siglo XIX, y las de Bosnia-Hercegovina que tras siglos de pertenencia al Imperio O t o m a n o habia experimentado la dominaciôn austriaca durante cuatro décadas, reflejaba las diferencias culturales de origen. La difusiôn de la lengua oral explica la importancia de la production teatral (Laura Papo, Dyaen) (Romero 1992: 266-312; Vidakovic-Petrov 1983), mientras otras manifestaciones escritas fueron muy escasas. Aparece además una sintesis interesante entre cultura occidental y la judeoespanola que se traduce en el judeoespanol escrito con letra latina (en Bosnia), con un idioma mâs autendco y menos corrompido por el francés, que no tuvo difusiôn en Bosnia, donde no exisdan escuelas de la "AIU." Sin embargo, aun en Bosnia, los autores de mâs envergadura a los que Andric dedica sendos ensayos (Isak Samokovlija y Kalmi Baruch) escribieron en lengua serbiocroata (Andric 1997). E n Yugoslavia donde las condiciones socio-polidcas y culturales—mulrietnia, multilingüismo, pluralidad religiosa etc.—eran las mâs parecidas a las del fenecido Imperio Otomano, las comunidades sefardies participaron en los debates polidcos y culturales con tendencias diferentes (sionismo, sefardismo, marxismo); el debate intelectual fue acdvo. Sin embargo, escasa consistencia demogrâfica, aislamiento y atraso de algunas comunidades fueron ôbice para que prensa y literatura se desarrollaran. Además la difusiôn de la lengua serbiocroata, elemento de asimilaciôn, coexistiô con la permanencia de la lengua vernàcula oral: el resultado fue la apariciôn de revistas culturales con ardculos en serbio-croata, la mayoria, y en judeoespanol con letra ladna, una minoria.

Desarrollo y politizaciôn La revolution de los "Jôvenes turcos" el 24 de Julio de 1908 provocô una explosion de todas las prensas del Imperio: antiguos periôdicos como el "Ikdam" y el "Sabah" pasaron ya el dia siguiente de 10-12 000 ejemplares a 40-60 000, con incremento de los precios (Lewis 1988: 133-136, 168-173; Georgeon 1989; Emin 1914). Tras la revolution, circulaban en el Imperio mâs de 350 publicaciones (turcas, armenias, griegas, judeoespanolas). En 1910, aún salian 130 publicaciones y 124 en 1911 (Georgeon 1989). En particular la prensa armenia destaca por el numéro de dtulos, mâs de 200 entre 1908 y 1914. (Keyder 1987: 60). La prensa festiva (humoristica) prácticamente inexistente en la época hamidiana se desarrolla rápidamente con un gran numéro de publicaciones en los centras mayores. Aparece por primera vez el debate ideolôgico y politico.

E n este periodo, la prensa judeoespanola, relativamente ya bien desarrollada anade algunos dtulos en Istanbul, Esmirna y Salônica; más importante es el desarrollo de la prensa humorisdca en Istanbul y Salônica. Se observa, sin embargo, por prima vez, un debate ideolôgico entre tendencias diferentes: sionistas, sostenidos sobre todo por la prensa francôfona ("L'Aurore"), Alliancistas asimilacionistas ("El Tiempo" y otras publicaciones de la burguesia), socialistassindicalistas ("La Solidaridad ovradera" llegô a 3 000 ejemplares en Salônica, donde el movimiento obrero era muy desarrollado) (Dumont 1993).

La prensa judeoespanola en Salônica griega Hay que resaltar, sin embargo, que el más considerable desarrollo de la prensa judeoespanola de information, de opinion y humorisdca tuvo lugar más tarde en Salônica, donde en el periodo entre 1913 y 1923 llegaron a publicarse hasta 6 diarios, 4 revistas y 9 semanales fesdvos. La prensa judeoespanola se mantuvo acrivisima con carácter identitario durante todo el periodo de transition entre 1912 (anexiôn a Grecia) y 1923 (intercambio de poblaciones a raiz de la guerra perdida con Turquia). Durante esta fase, politicamente muy confusa, las autoridades griegas parecian avenirse a acordar a la ciudad de Salônica una reladva autonomia, que permitiria, al menos parcialmente, preservar la personalidad de la ciudad en la que hasta 1912 los judios constituian 50 ο más por ciento de la poblaciôn multiétnica (sefardi, turca, griega, bûlgara) (Molho 1988). E n esta fase de transition se manifestaron todas las tendencias poliricas y sociales en una prensa diferenciada y vivaz. F. Cambô (1987: 201) en uno de sus viajes, segûn nota en sus "Memorias," llegô a Salônica en 1913 y le pareciô notar un cierto espafiolismo formai, que reflejaban los dtulos de algunos diarios: "El Liberal," "El Impartial." Cambô habla también de un periôdico "El Heraldo" que parece no haber exisddo. En este periodo, como observa R. Molho, el sionismo "sin sionismo" de la mayoria de los adeptos, dene un carácter meramente identitario, una especie de herencia del millet judio desaparecido con el Imperio Otomano. 1923 marca un cambio de rumbo en las intenciones del gobierno griego, que antes habia mantenido de cara a sus minorias, una actitud moderada esperando que los Turcos hicieron lo propio con la muy consistente minoria griega (10% de la poblaciôn de Turquia en sus limites territoriales actuales) (Molho 1988). El intercambio de poblaciones demuestra la inurilidad de la politica de moderation, empieza entonces la helenizaciôn—al principio no muy eficaz—que sin embargo, décréta la incorporation a filas de los judios, en 1923. A partir de este momento, la prensa judeoespanola refleja la intenciôn de mantener la idenddad comunitaria; el sionismo es mucho más activo y militante, persiste una fuerte tendencia comunista debida a la decadencia economica de la ciudad y la existencia de un considerable nûmero de indigentes y asistidos. El diario comunista "Avanti" sigue apareciendo hasta 1935, cuando la dictadura de Metaxas lo clausura. En 1929, aun existen très diarios en judeoespanol y cuatro en francés (14 publicaciones de la comunidad) (Benbassa-Rodrigue 1993). En

los anos treinta, el pogromo antisemita de la E E E en 1931—con consiguiente emigration a Palesdna de 10000 judios—y la politica de helenizaciôn mâs activa y eficaz, sobre todo tras el advenimiento de Metaxas, determinan una rápida decadencia de toda actividad intelectual judia. E n abril de 1941, a llegada de las tropas alemanas solo exisda el diario "El mensajero" en judeoespanol y dos en francés. Los lectores en judeoespanol, 5000 en 1930, no eran mâs de un miliar en 1941 (Benbassa-Rodrigue 1993; Molho 1973).

Comentario La evolution de la prensa judia, en judeoespanol y luego también en francés, refleja las vicisitudes histôricas no solo de la comunidad mayoritaria—caso único en todo el Imperio—sino de la ciudad de Salônica en general. Del cuadrilingiiismo de algunas publicaciones (socialistas sobre todo) se pasa a las diferentes prensas nacionales; en este sentido, los Judios de Salônica pueden ser considérados una verdadera nation, junto con Griegos, Turcos, Bûlgaros. La grande época de la prensa judia coincide con una fase de transition, en que el status de la ciudad y también su composition étnica no estaban aûn definidos y podian por consiguiente caber soluciones diferentes. Sin embargo, la originalidad de Salônica durô solo hasta 1923, época en que los nacionalismos turco y griego asentaron de manera definitiva su poderio. La sociedad judia de Salônica perdiô a partir de la anexiôn una parte importante de sus miembros, emigrados a Turquia, en una prima fase, luego a Francia, a Estados Unidos y, por fm, a Palesdna. E n los anos veinte, las publicaciones judeoespanolas emprenden un combate de retaguardia, que se prolonga a lo largo de la década siguiente, cada vez mâs resignado a la derrota inevitable. Ninguna otra prensa judeoespanola tuvo la importancia histôrica de la de Salônica, también por el hecho de que la situaciôn de Salônica no era repetible.

En Turquia—en el periodo entreguerras E n Turquia el Camino de la prensa judeoespanola refleja la misma problemâtica que en Grecia, aunque con aspectos diferentes ya que las comunidades judias eran ya muy minoritarias en todos los grandes centros. E n Turquia, la minoria judia, a diferencia de los Griegos, hostigados, y de los Armenios, eliminados fisicamente, no tuvo durante la guerra problemas de ninguna clase. Su consistencia numérica era escasa (1%, 10% de Griegos y 7% de Armenios) Tras 1923, la minoria judia es la ûnica que queda intacta, con sus instituciones, sus escuelas, su propio idioma y otro idioma de adoption (el francés) en un estado nacionalista, que sustancialmente se opone al pluralismo cultural. Asi, también en el caso de la prensa judeoespanola, hasta 1923—en una situaciôn muy fluida y con un poder débil y mal definido—el debate cultural se manriene activo, con presencia muy relevante de las organizaciones sionistas. 1923 es una fecha critica. La prensa de Esmirna desaparece por completo, por razones locales—a raiz de la guerra griego-turca, la comunidad y el hinterland de Izmir han quedado profundamente desorganizados con emigration de casi la mitad de la poblaciôn.

Algunas comunidades (Aydin, Manissa) desaparecen (Nahum 1997: 143-157, 180—218), la poblaciôn autôctona de Esmirna emigra masivamente y la ciudad es parcialmente repoblada por los refugiados de Anatolia. Por el otro lado se para el debate cultural, el sionismo ya no es tolerado. En 1925, la ensenanza turca es radicalmente modificada, con vistas a abolition de los idiomas extranjeros en las escuelas básicas (como las de la AIU), y como el judeoespanol ya no podia ser considerado como lengua materna, por sus insuficiencias estructurales de cara a una sociedad moderna, y el francés estaba prohibido en las escuelas primarias para los sûbditos turcos, la turquizaciôn avanza rápidamente (Rodrigue 1990; Nahum 1997: 143-157, 180-218). La reforma de 1925-28 del idioma turco y su alfabedzaciôn hicieron obsoleta la letra rashi. La prensa a partir de 1930 solo fue consutuida por unas pocas publicaciones, entre las cuales destaca la "Voz de Oriente" en letra ladna (Galante 1935). En 1934, una de las causas que modvaron, a pesar de que el gobierno turco lo desmindô rotundamente, los motines que impulsaron a los judios a abandonar los territorios europeos (Tracia) fue la necesidad de alejar de las fronteras a los habitantes que "hablaban otro idioma." Tras la casi total elimination de las minorias más importantes—la griega y la armenia, que persisdan solo en Istanbul—la judia quedaba el ûnico bianco del nacionalismo xenôfobo del estado turco. Indudablemente, la conflicdvidad que durô hasta la segunda posguerra recortô drásdcamente la minoria judia que en gran parte emigrô. Sin embargo, ya antes de las grandes oleadas migratorias el judeoespanol estaba reducido a lengua meramente oral (Nahum 1997: 143-157, 180-218). En 1936, bajo la soberania tolerante del gobierno italiano, que sin embargo finalizaria muy pronto con las leyes raciales, seguia publicàndose en Rodas el "Boledn de la Comunidad" dirigido por el antiguo periodista de Esmirna, Hizkia Franco, en judeoespanol con la letra ladna. La lengua era la "afrancesada" de los alumnos de la AIU y los contenidos en buena parte de carácter sionista (Fitz Menascé 1992).

Conclusiones La prensa judeoespanola naciô en época histôrica peculiar, caracterizada por la modernization y occidentalizaciôn de una sociedad parada e aislada culturalmente durante siglos. Se trataba, sin embargo, de una sociedad compleja constituida por etnias, religiones, idiomas y culturas diferentes, sin que llegara a imponerse un substrato comûn. En este coacervo, invertebrado, parece lôgico que cada componente expresara exigencias anâlogas con su propio vehiculo lingûisrico. Los dempos de evolution de la prensa judeoespanola coinciden aproximadamente con los de la prensa turca, objeto de atenciôn de una minoria ilustrada. La prensa sefardi en francés aparece unas décadas más tarde hacia finales del siglo XIX, sin reemplazar la vernâcula.

La independencia de Bulgaria impone el uso del idioma nacional, un sistema educativo mâs moderno y al mismo tiempo conlleva una institutionalization del nacionalismo. Se llega asi por un lado a la progresiva asimilaciôn lingüistica de la minoria judia y por el otro a la estructuraciôn de un nacionalismo especificamente judio ya antes del sionismo politico de Herzl. La revoluciôn de los Jôvenes Turcos en 1908, con abolition de la censura, favorece el desarrollo râpido de todas las prensas y la politizaciôn de las mismas. La prensa judeoespanola refleja las controversias en el àmbito de las propias comunidades (sionismo-asimilacionismo aliancista) y en menor medida en el contexto de la sociedad (socialismo, sindicalismo), mientras persiste la prensa de information. El desarrollo y la acdvidad mâs considerable de la prensa sefardi coinciden con las fases de transition politica con gobiernos inestables, libertad de expresiôn y escaso desarrollo de la sociedad civil autôctona (1908-13, 191923 en Turquia, 1912—23 en Salônica). Al imponerse en Turquia y Grecia gobiernos nacionalistas (tras 1923 y el intercambio de poblaciones), que se proponen conseguir sociedades homogénea$ culturalmente, sin dejar espacio para las minorias ya muy reducidas en ambos paises, el vernâculo judeoespanol incapaz de renovarse y de responder a las exigencias expresivas de una sociedad moderna, decae rápidamente. La lengua escrita ha desaparecido casi por completo antes de la guerra 39—4-5, mientras la lengua oral persiste unas décadas, apagàndose progresivamente. Considerando inevitable la désintégration de la sociedad sefardi y de su cultura peculiar al disolverse el Imperio otomano pluriétnico, retrospectivamente, se puede reconocer a la prensa judeoespanola un papel relevante en la secularizaciôn y la modernization de la minoria judia en Turquia y en Grecia. La apariciôn y el desarrollo de la prensa judeoespanola coinciden con la formaciôn de una nueva clase media y con una más acentuada movilidad social en una sociedad que iba, muy lenta y parcialmente, occidentalizàndose. Queda, sin embargo, por establecer cuàl fuera el impacto real de la prensa en las capas menos aculturadas y mâs pobres que constituian una proportion elevada de la poblaciôn en visperas del Holocausto en Salônica y en los territorios de Grecia septentrional, y de la emigration masiva de clases médias en Estambul y Esmirna. Fue precisamente en estas capas de la poblaciôn donde el vernâculo demostrô mâs vitalidad, al menos como lengua oral.

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Benbassa, E.-Rodrigue, A, 1992. Une viejudéo-espagnole à l'Est: Gabriel Arié. Paris: Cerf. , 1993. Juifs des Balkans Espacesjudéo-ibériques XIV-XX' siècles. Paris: La Découverte. Cambô F. 1987. Memorias. Madrid: Alianza Editorial. Canetti, E. 1985. La lengua absuelta. Barcelona: Muchnik.

, 1985a. La antorcba al oido: historia de una vida, 1921-1931. Barcelona: Muchnik.

Dumont, P. 1993. "Naissance d'un socialisme ottoman." En Salonique 1850-1918 La "ville des Juifs" et le réveil des Balkans. Ed. G. Veinstein. Paris: Autrement, 207-207.

, 1993a. "Le français d'abord." En Salonique 1850-1918 La "ville des Juifs" et te réveil des Balkans. Ed. G. Veinstein. Paris: Autrement, 208-225.

Emin, A. 1914. The development of Modem Turkey as measured by its press. New York. (cf. Lewis 1988: 202). Fitz Menascé, Ε. 1992. Gli ebrei a Rod!. Milano: Guerini.

Franco, M. 1897. Histoire des Israélites de l'Empire Ottoman. Paris: Durlacher. Gaon, M. D. 1965. A bibliography of Judeo-Spanish (Ladino) Press. Tel Aviv. Galanté, A. 1935. "La presse judéo-espagnole mondiale." En Histoire des Juifs de Turquie. 9 vols. Istanbul: ISIS, reed. 1985. Vol. 9, 207-226. , 1936. "Histoire des Juifs d'Anatolie." Ibid. Vol. 3, 75-79. , 1941. "Histoire des Juifs d'Istanbul." Ibid. Vol. 2, 91-97.

Georgeon, F. 1989. "La Mort d'un Empire." En Histoire de lEmpire Ottoman. Ed. R. Mantran. Paris: Fayard, 584-585. Hassán, I. M. 1966. "El estudio del periodismo sefardi." Sefarad2(s, 229-235. Keyder, t . 1987. State and class in Turkey. London-New York: Verso. Lewis, B. 1988. Islam et Laïcité. Paris: Fayard, (ed. inglesa 1961-68).

Mezan, S. Les Juifs espagnols en Bulgarie. Sofia, (cf. Tamir 1979: 109). Molho, M. 1973. In memoriam. Hommage aux victimes juives des rial's en Grèce. 2e éd. revue et augm. par J. Nehama. Thessalonique: Communauté Juive, 28-40. Molho, R. 1988. "The Jewish Community of Salonika and its incorporation to the Greek

State 1912-1919." Middle Eastern Studies 24, 391^103. Nahum, H. 1997. Juifs de Smyrne. XIX'-XX' siècle. Paris: Aubier Histoire. Publicaciôn Oficial: La salvation de la poblaciôn hebrea en Bulgaria, 1941-44. Sofia: Septemuri, 1977.

Rodrigue, A. 1989. De l'instruction à l'émancipation. Les enseignants de l'Alliance Israélite Universelle et les Juifs d'Orient. Paris: Caïman Lévy. , 1990. French Jews, Turkish Jews, The Alliance Israélite Universelle and the politics ofJewish schooling in Turkey 1860-1925. Indianapolis-Bloomington: Indiana University Press.

Romero, E. 1992. La creation literaria en lengua sefardi. Madrid: Mapfre. Sephiha, H. V. 19792. L'agonie desjudéoespagnols. Paris: Entente.

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HALIA ISAAC C O H E N ' S N O T E B O O K A N E W SEPHARDIC BALLAD C O L L E C T I O N HILARY POMEROY University of London, UK Halia Isaac Cohen was born in Tetuán in 1862 but spent most of her life in Tangier. She left many papers to her grandson Mozy Cohen and among these was a school exercise-book covered in brown paper. This Mozy Cohen entrusted to me. The inscription on the notebook's second page reads: "este libro pertenese a / a [sic] Halia Isaac Cohen / Febrero de mil nuevesientos / 30 cuatro." There is neither title nor indication of contents. A quick read revealed this to be a collection of ballads written out in what Mozy Cohen assured me was Halia's own hand. Unaware of the significance of its contents, Mozy Cohen had inherited one of those manuscript ballad collecdons so popular in Morocco in the early decades of this century when it was the vogue to write down the ballads sung by family and friends. There are fifty six ballads in Isaac Cohen's exercise book. In addition to these, Halia had noted down eight Biblical ballads together with twelve of the texts already in the collection, plus the Carolingian ballad Melisenda insomne which is not in the book. O n e of the most striking features of this collection is the presence several epic and Carolingian ballads, some in particularly fine versions. Sanchoy Urraca and El sueno de dona Aida are particularly worthy of note. Other texts reveal perhaps one unique detail such as the rare reference to a black slave in Tarquinoj Lucrecia which links the ballad with the Cancionero de Amberes text.1 The introduction to El caballero burlado is unusual in that the king, rather than the girl, sets off on the journey. There is an archaic hexasyllabic version of D o n Bueso y su hermana. Isaac Cohen's version of Hermanas reina y cautiva contains examples of the euphemistic third person, a phenomenon usually associated with the Eastern tradition (also present in Benardete's text from Tetuán). Isaac Cohen's versions of Isabel de Liar + Juan Lorenzo and Dona Antonia include lines which clearly link the Sephardic texts with the early printed Spanish collections. There are rare text types such as El rapto and La expulsion de losjudios de Portugal. I shall focus on four ballads from this collection. Two of them demonstrate the development of ballad texts from their epic origins. The other two texts demonstrate an aspect which is often overlooked, the creative vitality of the Sephardic tradition. O n e of the most popular ballads in the Moroccan tradition consists of the fusion of two epic ballads El rey Fernando en Francia, in which Fernando invades and pacifies France, and Sanchoy Urraca, in which Urraca negotiates with Sancho for the release from prison of their brother Alfonso. The ballad begins by relaThis is also hinted at in Zarita Nation's text (Armistead and Silverman 1977: 69).

ting Fernando el Magno's successful invasion of France as described in prose versions of Las mocedades de Rodrigo. It then moves forward in time. The missing events are related in the ballad Las quejas de Urraca which describes the division of Fernando's kingdom among his three legitimate sons: - M o r i r vos queredes, padre; Mandastes las vuestras tierras a don Sancho a Casdlla, a don Alonso a Leon

San Miguel vos haya el alma. a quien se vos antojara: Castilla la bien nombrada; y a don Garcia Vizcaya. (Diaz-Mas 1994: 76,11. 1-4). 2

N o t content with this distribution, Sancho joined forces with Alfonso, and defeated and imprisoned Garcia. They then fought and the defeated Alfonso went into exile in Toledo. Garcia disappears from texts of Sancho y Urraca although the sixteenth-century Segnnda Silva text of this ballad (known as Primavera 39) refers to a "conde de Niebla" who appears to be one of the brothers: Matara el conde de Niebla y a su hermano don Alonso

y el condado le quitô en las càrceles lo echo. (Diaz-Mas 1994: 87, Π. 6-7). ‫נ‬

It is only in the twentieth century that the elusive Garcia reappears. In 1963 Samuel Armistead collected a five-hemistich fragment from Tetuán: Rey Fernando, rey Fernando, Encontre) la Fransia arreuelta, Matô al General Garsia . . .

de Toledo y Aragon, también que la apaciguô. (1986: 113,11. 1-3).

This fragment, with its modem terminology, "General Garcia," appeared at the time to be of little importance. Its significance was made clear in a version collected by O r o Anahory Librowicz in Caracas in 1972 from a tetuania informant. The missing brother is mentioned once again: "matô al conde don Garcia, la cabeza le cortô" (Armistead and Silverman 1986: 153, n. 46). Yet another Sephardic text, a manuscript version from Tangier, collected by Eleonora Noga Alberti-Kleinbort, refers to Garcia: "Matô al conde don Garsillo / y el condado le quitô" {Ibid.: 278, η. 79). Alberti-Kleinbort's "Garsillo" is less accurate than Anahory Librowicz's "Garcia" but, as in Primavera 39, it provides the correct information "el condado le quitô." Anahory Librowicz's version supplies the correct name, Garcia, but, it alludes to Garcia's decapitation rather than the usurpation of his land, and is therefore less consonant with epic tradition. Isaac Cohen's version offers the best of the twentieth-century sightings of the elusive Garcia: "mato al conde D o n Garsilla / y el condado le quito" (1. 3).4 Here both pieces of information, name and usurpation of territory, are accurately stated according to medieval epic tradition. This rare coincidence with readings present in the early chronicles 2

‫'׳‬ 4

D o n Garcia was in fact granted Gali and Portugal, and not Vizcaya. As Armistead and Silverman have pointed out, any reference to the county of Niebla is an anachronism. The town was still in Moslem hands in the fourteenth century (1986: 128). I have retained Isaac Cohen's original spelling and punctuauon, while setung that text out in eight-syllable lines.

is preferable to those of the ballad's sixteenth-century congener, and eloquendy attests to the notable fidelity of Isaac Cohen's text. The five Carolingian ballads present in the collection are: Rosaflorida j Montesinos, El cautiverio de Guarinos fused with El sueno de dona Aida, Morianaj Galvdn, and Melisenda insomne. It is in the section dealing with the interpretation of Alda's dream that Isaac Cohen's text has retained an example of a structure rarely found after the twelfth century. In the Cancionero de romances de 1550 text of El sueno de dona Aida Alda's chambermaid, "su camarera," promises to give a favourable interpretation to Alda's dream: "Aquesse sueno senora / bien os lo entiendo soltar" (Armistead and Silverman 1994: 119, 1. 22). Samuel Armistead has provided a list of the various Sephardic versions of that promise. These include Bénichou's "Bien será y bien se hare" (1968: 57, 1. 18), Nahôn's "bien sea y bien sea zaze" (Armistead and Silverman 1977: 38, 1. 11), and Martinez Ruiz's "bien seá y bien se hagare." He concludes: "Their very proliferation suggests the singers' frustration with a verse which had clearly ceased to be coherent in the modern tradition" (1988: 71). In Isaac Cohen's text the wording is: "Todas dicen de una boca: / bien sera y bien se harade "(1. 28). This latter form occurs three more times and in each case obviously refers to the future: "vendra rondal de la guerra / las ricas bodas se aradan "(1. 29), "todas dicen auna boca / bien sera y bien se arade 34.1)‫ ) ״‬, "la sangre la mi senora / vino tinto que arede (1. 36). Armistead has pointed out the presence of three examples of this verb form in Roncesvalles, the poem from which El sueno de doiia Aida derives. 5 These are: "oit lo que djrade" (1. 33b), "quilo conseyarade" (1. 53b), "odredes lo que dirade"( Armistead 1988: 67). Armistead continues: "These verses of the Roncesvalles fragment bring to us an authentic echo of archaic forms that were still in use in tenth-century Spain, when the Latin third person -t (probably already pronounced [d]) survived in everyday language" (67), thus supporting Menéndez Pidal's views: "esa forma del futuro se usaba en la lengua escrita hasta en el siglo XI, aunque después quedô completamente desterrada del idioma, salvo en el verso épico" (1953: 119). It is this archaic future form that is found in lines 28, 29, 34, and 36 of Isaac Cohen's text, and also in athe nineteenth-century text collected by Eugenio Silvela where "bien se arade" occurs twice.6 It cannot be mere coincidence that this archaic survival of the Latin third person future appears both in the fourteenth-century Roncesvalles and in the ballad El sueno de dona Aida which relates the death of Roland. 7 This rare example of the survival of the archaic future form somehow lived on in Isaac Cohen's collection whilst leaving only a faint, sometimes incomprehensible, trace in other Moroccan versions. Thanks Menéndez Pidal has pointed out that the one hundred line fragment, Roncesvalles, is related to the late twelth-century rhymed version of the Chanson de Roland and not to the late eleventh-century text (1953: 249). There is another example of the paragogic - d - in Silvela's version of E! cautiverio de Guarinos·. "Si es moro de la derra, / bien pagado le serade" (Armistead and Silverman 1994: 150, n. 44). In Roncesvalles Aida consults the cleric Amaugis for an explanadon of her dream. He, in turn, gives an auspicious interpretation so as not to upset her. He is, then, replaced in Sephardic versions of the ballad by the three hundred maidens, and in the Cancionero de romances version by the "camarera."

to Isaac Cohen's text the clear link between ballad and epic antecedents are incontroverdbly demonstrated. Menéndez Pidal's frequendy quoted comment on Sephardic ballads: "conservaron los recuerdos medievales que de su patria sacaron y los conservaron con una tenacidad y fidelidad incomparables" (1928: 23), limits the Sephardic tradiuon to its conservatism. Armistead and Silverman have emphasisied its creative dynamism, demonstrating, for example, how existing materials such as the Greek tragoudia have been so well adapted to the romancero form that those origins are barely discernible (Armistead and Silverman 1982: 151-68, 169—78). Exisdng Spanish materials have also been modified. The main protagonist of the Moroccan ballad Raquel lastimosa is a married woman who is courted by a young man. He pursues her ardendy with letters and lavish gifts. Raquel dudfully returns them, "que casada era yo!" (Weich-Shahak 1989: 76, 1. 14). Armistead and Silverman have pointed out the similarities between this text and La mujer delgobernador, discovered in Buenos Aires by Ricardo Rojas in 1913. The ballad dates from at least the seventeenth century. According to the Argentinian text it is the woman who falls in love with the young man and shamelessly pursues him. Contrary to other Moroccan Sephardic versions of the ballad, where the woman is depicted as the innocent victim of the young man's advances, the theme of the adulterous wife also occurs in Isaac Cohen's text. The similarities between the colonial and Isaac Cohen's texts are striking: "Se enamorô de un mancebo / Por su sonorosa bos" (Rojas 1917: 355, 11. 7-8), "se enamora de un mansebo / por su delicado [sic] voz" (Isaac Cohen, 1. 4). In both texts the young man resists the woman's advances whereas in other Moroccan Sephardic texts it is the woman who resists the man's attentions: "y el mancebo se curaba / de tener con ella amor" (Rojas 1917: 356, 11. 11-12), "y el mansebo se retira / de tratar con ella en amor" (Isaac Cohen, 1. 5), "se encontrô con un mancebo / que la trataba de amor" (Weich-Shahak 1989: 76,11. 7-8). The Argentinian text continues: "Gozàronse muchos anos / sin recelo ni temor" (Rojas 1917: 11. 19-20). This expression "sin reselo ni temor" survives in Isaac Cohen's text: "y todo se lo tomara / sin reselo ni temor" (1. 8). Isaac Cohen's version of Raquel lastimosa proves that the original text was known in Morocco. Its theme of the adulterous wife has been deliberately changed over the centuries. In the form still sung today it omits all mention of the wife's adultery so as not to offend Sephardic sensibilities. The same process of adaptation has also taken place in the extremely rare historical ballad La expulsion de los judios de Portugal. Armistead and Silverman have noted its similarity to a ballad collected in Palencia, La infanta soltera (Armistead and Silverman 1979: 128). The texts have the same elements, namely the three princesses, two of whom are married while the youngest anxiously awaits a husband: "la otra en casa de sus padres / aguardando mejorias" (Armistead and Silverman 1979: 128, 1. 3), "lo que son dos ya casadas / y yo por casar me afino" (Isaac Cohen 1. 2), her rejection of her many suitors, and her eventual marriage to the king of Casrille. Isaac Cohen's line 5, "ni es por falta de pedidores, / condes y duques me han pedido" is the most accurate survival of line 4 of La infanta soltera·. "Muchos duques la demandan, / muchos condes la

pedían." Whereas in other texts there is only mention of counts who court the princess, here all three key words "condes," "duques," and "pedir" have been retained. Line 5 of the Palencian text, "que la pidiô el Padre Santo / para reina de Castilla" has been dechristianised in Sephardic texts by removing the reference to the Pope: "mi padre por contentarme / diome al rey de castilla" (Isaac Cohen 1. 6). The ballads diverge, the Palencian ballad having served as a means of introduction to the Sephardic text. This rare ballad is puzzling because most of the few available texts, including Isaac Cohen's, narrate the expulsion of the Jews from the perspective of its instigator, the new queen of Castille. Whilst it is not uncommon for ballads to be narrated from the enemy's perspective (EI alcaide de Alhama and La mora Moraima being obvious examples) one tends nonetheless to sympathise with the narrator. In La expulsion de los judios de Portugal\ however, the newly appointed queen is reviled and punished for her mistreatment of the Jews. Isaac Cohen's text ineludes the new queen's declaration that she will rid Portugal of the Jews but it omits a description of their departure: en la siudad de mi padre y ahora si D. me ayuda

no ubo judio ni judia lo mismo hare en las mias (11. 10-11).

It jumps from these words to describe the queen's fate; the lights are extinguished, her head-dress falls off, she falls to pieces, "a pedasos se caeria" (14b). By this omission, Isaac Cohen's text illustrates the fluidity of the oral tradition where some lines survive and others are lost. Above all her text demonstrates once again that despite frequent reference to the conservative nature of the Sephardic tradition, it does adapt and modify existing material to form new ballads. Isaac Cohen's collection contains rare readings and rare texts. While some texts or versions are obviously modern, others can be traced back to the epic tradition or to the venerable printed sources of the sixteenth century. We do not know, however, why certain unique lines have survived in this very individual collection and not elsewhere. N o r do we know the sources of Isaac Cohen's collection. Had she collected these ballads herself from family and friends? Could it be that she copied them from some older collection now lost to us? It seems unlikely that we shall ever know the immediate backgound of this collection or the reasons why Halia Isaac Cohen undertook her painstaking task. What is indisputable is the contribution her fine collection has made to ballad studies.

References Armistead, S. G. 1988. "The 'Paragogic' -d- in Judeo-Spanish Romances." In Hispanic Studies in Honour of Joseph H. Silverman. Ed. J. V. Ricapito. Newark: Juan de la Cuesta.

, & Silverman, J. H. eds. 1977. Romances judeo-espaitoles de Tanger recogidos por Zarila Νabon. Madrid: Cátedra & SMP.

, ed. 1979. Très calas en el romancero sefardi: Rodas, Jerusalén, Estados Unidos. Madrid: Castalia.

, ed. 1981 .Judeo-Spanish Ballads from New York: Collected by Mair José Benardete. Berkeley: University of California.

, 1982. En torno a! romancero sefardi: bispanismo j balcanismo de la tradidôn judeo-espanola. FERS, 7. Madrid: SMP.

, 1986. Judeo-Spanish Ballads from Oral Tradition: I, Epic Ballads. Folk Literature of the Sephardic Jews, II. Berkeley: University of California Press.

, ed. 1994. Judeo-Spanish Ballads from Oral Tradition, II, Carolingian Ballads, I: Roncesvalles. Berkeley: University of California Press.

χ

Bénichou, P. ed. 1969. Romancero judeo-espanol de Marruecos. La lupa y el escalpelo, 8. Madrid: Castalia. Diaz-Mas, P. ed. 1994. Romancero. Biblioteca C1ásica, 8. Barcelona: Critica. Martinez Ruiz, J. ed. 1963. "Poesia sefardi de carácter tradicional" (Alcazarquivir). AO 13, 79-215. Menéndez Pidal, R. [1928]. E! romancero: teorias e investigaciones. Madrid: Paez.

, 1953. Romancero hispânico (bispano-portugués, americano, y sefardi): teoria e historia, 2 vols. Madrid: Espasa-Calpe.

A PROPÔSITO DE LA COPLA EL TESTAMENTO

Rocio

DE

AMAN

PRIETO PRIETO

U n i v e r s i d a d d e Valladolid, S p a i n

El objeto de esta comunicaciôn es un acercamiento a la Literatura sefardi, pero dada la amplitud de su production literaria nos hemos ocupado de las copias por ser el mejor exponente de su creauvidad y de la vida de todo un pueblo: sus costumbres, sus fiestas religiosas y folclôricas y su historia. Dentro de este género destacan por su riqueza expresiva las que se crean con motivo de la celebration de Purim1 y, especialmente, las burlescas 2 que se dedican a denigrar a los malos de la historia (Amán, su mujer Zereš o su hija). Estas se dividen en dos grupos: descriptivas: El retrato de Amâti y El retrato de Zereš, y narradvas: El casamiento de Aman, El ajugar de Aman, La endecha y El testamento de Aman. C o m o indicamos en el dtulo de la comunicaciôn, nuestro propôsito es el estudio y la edition de esta ultima. Su election responde a la popularidad que tiene entre los judios por reflejar una parte de su historia. N o s ha llegado en veinridôs ediciones 3 —veintiuna de ellas aljamiadas y solamente una en caracteres latinos (con ortografia servocroata)—de las cuales se imprimen seis en Salonica (SI 798, S1800, S1803, S1829, S1866 y S1893), cinco en Esmirna (E1860a, E l 860b, E l 860c, E1880 y E1913), dos en Belgrade (B1861 y B1889), dos en Liorna (L1875 y L1902), très en Jerusalén (J 1884, J1885 y J1924/76), 4 dos en Viena (V1892a y V1892b), una en Constantinopla (C1923) y, por ultimo, una en Sarajevo (Sj1932). Desde el punto de vista formai, consta de veinticinco estrofas de cuatro versos cada una, la mayoria de ellos son octosilabos con rima en aaab de tipo zejelesco y con verso de vuelta en -im que en todas ocurre con la palabra Purim. Las très primeras estrofas constituyen una introduction en la que se alaba a Dios y se invita a los judios a que recuerden lo que simboliza la celebration de Purim para su pueblo. La parte del Testamento propiamente dicha comienza a partir de la cuarta estrofa. C o m o su titulo indica, parodia el testamento moral 1

2

3

4

Fiesta en la que el pueblo judio célébra su salvaciôn de los planes de exterminio de Aman, gracias a la intervenciôn de la reina Ester. Ver Romero, E. 1989. La ley en la leyenda. Madrid: CSIC. 5 6 3 621. Véase el estudio de Carracedo, L. 1981. "Textos purimicos de carácter burlesco." E n Actos de las Jornadas de Estudios Sefardies, 123—130. Definimos las ediciones por el lugar abreviado y el ano de impresiôn; en los casos en que coinciden, empleamos las letras a, by c. (Belgrado = B, Constantinopla = C, Esmirna = E, Jerusalén = J, Liorna = L, Salônica = S, Sarajevo = Sj, Viena = V). Esta ediciôn es de 1924 con una reproducciôn facsimil moderna de 1976, sin embargo, la consideramos una sola ediciôn aunque indiquemos esta fecha en la abreviatura de referenda 01924/76).

que hace Amán a sus hijos, dândoles consejos absurdos que aportan un elemento burlesco. Estos textos aûn permanecen aljamiados y para editarlos es necesario conocer las correspondencias del sistema grâfico del hebreo con las del fonolôgico del judeoespanol. 5 El texto base utilizado mayoritariamente para la ediciôn es el de S1803, ya que los anteriores a éste, uno presenta mala calidad de impresiôn y el otro está manco por el final, es decir, solo disponemos de once estrofas. En el aparato de variantes—determinadas a partir de un estudio comparadvo entre las veinddôs ediciones—recogemos las mâs significadvas y aquellas que van en contra del sistema normadvo del espanol, asi como, las que presentan fallos dpogrâficos (por omisiôn del diacrtdco). Indicamos las variantes a través de llamadas de notas al final de cada verso y en las que anotamos las ediciones abreviadas y ordenadas cronolôgicamente cuando son varias. Las variantes que afectan a un mismo lema van separadas por comas, el cambio de lema se senala con punto y coma. Asimismo, reflejamos la omisiôn de versos y estrofas con las abreviaturas: om. 1a, om. estr. respectivamente. Cuando una variante textual se da en la mayoria de las ediciones, senalamos la excepciôn para evitar que la nota sea demasiado extensa poniendo todas salvo. En el caso de que la variante se deba a un cambio vocâlico, solo consideramos las ediciones vocalizadas (S1798, S1800, S1803, S1829, S1866 y J1924/76). Para la ediciôn larinada de Sj 1932 hay que tener en cuenta los siguientes rasgos: es una ortografia de base fonédca, la h es siempre aspirada, el acento no está marcado, ausencia de la 'ayin (empleada en hebraismos), bien porque no se pronunciaba, o bien, porque se ha producido la pérdida y, por ultimo, no todo suena como en espanol, asi, la j representa y. Respecto a las variantes que presenta, recogemos aquellas que suponen un cambio de lectura frente al resto de las ediciones, para ello, las copiamos tal y como aparecen en el texto. N o hemos anotado el que ν se represente por vav (1) o por vet (‫ )ב‬porque el resultado de la lectura de ambas grafias es idéndco. Las diferencias textuales encontradas quedan reducidas a: pérdida de versos o estrofas, sustituciones léxicas, introduction de nuevos versos, reajustes para reparar fallos de copia, de entendimiento o de mala calidad de impresiôn, asi como, uniones anômalas (como preposition y articulo) que van en contra del sistema normadvo del espanol.

Consùltese Bunis, D. 1975. A Guide to Reading and Writing ]ude?m0. New York: The Judezmo Society; asi como Hassan, I. M. 1978. "Transcription normalizada de textos judeoespanoles." Anejo de Estudios Sefardies I, 147—150.

Copia de El testamento de Aman

6 7 8

9 10 11 12 13 14 15

16 17

18

19 20 21 22

23

24 25 26 27

l6

Bindicho sea el Dio 7 poes que tal Purim mos dio, 8 todo zera' de jidiô9 que se acodre de Purim. 10

211

Q u e es un dia todo estimado, 12 en el ano alabado, 13 Yisrael es obligado 14 de honrar a el Purim 15 .

316

T o d o el 'icar es esto; 17 enmentar en su re^isto, 18 trabarlo por el cabristo 19 como un hamor en Purim. 20

4

Un dia antes que muriera 21 llamô a toda su parentera, 22 los tomô en su cabecera 23 un dia antes de Purim. 24

5

A Paršandata le ha dicho. 25 " D e Agag seas maldicho, 26 que tú tomes el mi dicho 27 y aborezcas el Purim.

L1875 L1902 om. estr. S1803 bindigo, S j 1932 bendicbo-, Sj 1932 seja. S1829 S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 pues q., E1860ac V1892b S1893 E1913 después q., E1860b B1861 E1880 V1892a denpués q., J1884 puas q., J1885 C1923 porq., Sj1932 dispuis kr, S1800 S1803 Porim-, Sj1932 nos. S1800 todu. E1860bc B1861 V1892a quese•, Sj1932 akordr, S1800 S1803 Porim. L1875 L1902 om. estr. S1800 on d. t. estimadu-, B1861 Β1889 V1892ab Sj1932 om. todo-, Ε1880 un d. muy e. Todas salvo S1798 S1803 E1860a B1889 Sj1932 enel. Sj1932 uvligado. S1798 S1800 S1803 S1829 E1860abc S1866 L1875 E1880 J1884 J1885 L1902 E1913 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 ael, Sj1932 at, S1800 Porim. L 1 8 7 5 L 1 9 0 2 o m . estr. SI 800 todu et Ί. es es tu. E1860abc B1861 E1880 B1889 V1892ab S1893 E1913 S j 1 9 3 2 j mentar, E1860bc B1861 E1880 Β1889 V1892ab ensu\ S1798 S1803 S1829 J1884 resisto, E1860abc E1880 S1893 E1913 resta. S1800 E1860abc E1880 S1893 E1913 cabrito, S1866 J1924/76 quebristo. S1800 S1803 Porim. S1798 mariera. Todas salvo S1829 S1893 E1913 C1923 Sj1932 atodcr, S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 parintera, J1885 V1892a E1913 Sj1932 parientera. Sj1932 tumo-, E1860a B1861 L1875 E1880 B1889 V1892b S1893 L1902 asu, E1860bc V1892a E1913 Sj1932 a su-, S)1932 kavisera. S1800 Porim. S1803 !eher, S1800 S1803 digo, B1861 B1889 V1892ab hadich0. L1902 Agagosear, S1803 matdigo. S1798 S1803 S1829 B1861 J1884 J1885 B1889 quetú, Sj1932 tomisr, E1880 et micho, S1803 digo.

28 29 30

31 32

33 34

35 36 37 38 39 40

41 42

43

44 45 46

47

6

N o tomes tu tal Camino,28 en Purim no bebas vino," 29 que todo mal que le vino 30 todo le vino en Purim. 31

7

Dalfôn, su hijo segundo: 32 "Asi tengas negro mundo 3 3 si poedes meter al fundo 3 4 a Yisrael en Purim." 35

8

A Aspata le decia:36 "De mi tomate mancia, 37 ni cadena ni mania, 38 no estrenes en Purim. 39

9

Que mucho esto quemado 40 de este dia afamado, 41 si de ti yo so amado 42 faz ta'anit en Purim. 43

10

Y tu, mi hijo Porata, 44 vende m ropa barata 45 y no hables con quen trata 46 en los dias de Purim. 47

S1800 Nu, E1860abc S1866 E1880 S1893 H1913 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Non; E1880 om. tomes, Sj1932 tomis. SI800 nu, El860a S1866 S1893 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 non. E1860abc E1880 E1913 om. mal, B1861 B1889 V1892ab S1893 Sj1932 e! mal·, S1803 om. le, SI 798 V1892ab q. me κ, J1884 J1885 quele v. S1800 6dt0du le vinu P., V1892ab 6d t. me v. en P. E1860bc E l 8 8 0 E1913 D. mi λ , J1885 C1923 D. tu h., Sj1932 D. tu me r, S1803 bigo, S1829 biso-, SI 866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 sigundo. S1798 S1866 C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932 A si. SI 829 S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932 pueder, Sj1932 elar, E1860abc E1880 S1893 E1913 m. a Yisrael a!f., S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 m. aelf.\ S1800 Sj1932 fondo, S1803 pundo. E1860abc E1880 S1893 E1913 7den este dia de Purim. S1800 S1829 S1866 J1924/76 Sj1932 dicta. S1803 E l 860a V1892b S1893 C1923 Demi. B1889 nimania, L1875 L1902 mani/la. El860a SI866 S1893 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 non e., B1861 B1889 V1892ab Sj1932 no tee. S1803 mugo, S1798 S1800 E1860abc B1861 L1875 E1880 J1884 J1885 B1889 V1892a S1893 L1902 E1913 C1923 muncho, S1829 munchu. E1860bc esta d, S1800 S1803 apamado, J1884 apa mado, Sj1932 afamando. S1800 J1884 side ti, S1803 B1861 B1889 V1892a si deti\ E1860abc E1880 E1913 om. 9c, L1875 L1902 9c si tu oyes mi mandado, J1885 C1923 9c seré atiyo amado‫׳‬, S1800 amadu. S1798 fa?, SI800 S1829 E1860abc S1866 J1884 S1893 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 ha?, S1803 pa?, B1861 L1875 Β1889 V1892ab L1902 Sj1932 /wrjJ1885 E1913 C1923 hactr, E1880 9dy no comas en P. S1803 E l 860a Yttr, Sj1932 me.; S1803 bigo. S1800 rupa. E1860abc E1880 S1893 E1913 o m . j , S1800 B1861 SI866 J1884 J1885 V1892ab J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 y n o , S1798 om. no, E1860abc S1893 ni-, S1893 quien; todas salvo S1798 S1803 tratas. S1829 E1860bc B1861 L1875 E1880 B1889 V1892ab L1902 enlor, S1800 Porim.

11

Esto te digo por cargo 48 y te lo escribo en largo,49 porque me foe mucho amargo 50 este dia de Purim. 51

1252 Ven aqui tú, Adalià, lo colguen a él allà53 y si ques ver reayá54 amanana toman Purim. 55

48

13

Alza tu ojo y cata 56 que esta sehorà me mata, 11ámame a Aridata 57 antes que entre Purim. 58

14

Hijo mio el seàeno, 59 no hagas como un ajeno, 60 para d lo que es boeno: 61 endechar en Purim. 62

15

Y tú, mi hijo Parmašta, 63 venimos de grande casta,64 de Agag es moestra rasta, 65 no des salom en Purim. 66

SI803 B1861 B1889 tedigo, L1875 L1902 te dejo, Sj1932po. S1803_j‫׳‬/f/o, S1800 J1884 J 1 8 8 5 j 1 0>/‫׳‬,S1798 S1829 E1860a B1861 V1892ab S 1 8 9 3 j feto-, todas salvo SI798 S1803 de largo. 50 L1875 L1902 que-, S1800 S1829 le pue, B1861 S1866 J1884 J1885 B1889 C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932 k fue, SI 803 me por, S1798 E1860abc L1875 E1880 S1893 L1902 E1913 muncho, S1803 mugo, S1800 S1829 B1861 SI866 J1884 J1885 B1889 V1892ab C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932 muy. 51 S1800 Porim. 52 A partir de aqui no disponemos de S1800. 53 E1860bc E l 8 8 0 V1892b E 1 9 1 3 y a 10 encolgan, J1885 C1923 que 10 colguen, S1798 tocolguen, S1803 locolgan, E1860a B1861 B1889 V1892a S1893 to encotguen, L1875 L1902 10 ‫״־״‬%‫»״‬, J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 10 col· guin, Sj1932 10 enforken-, S1798 S1803 S1829 E1860abc E1880 J1884 J1885 V1892b aél·, S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 om. alla. 54 E1860abc E1880 S1893 E1913 C1923 om.y, Sj1932 sc-, todas salvo S1798 S1803 S1829 queres. 55 S1798 S1829 S1866 J1884 J1885 C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 a mariana. 56 S1798 S1803 ogo. C l 9 2 3 οίο-, C1923 canta. 57 Sj1932jamami. 58 S1798 Porim. 59 S1803 Higo-, B1861 L1875 E1880J1885 B1889 V1892ab L1902 E1913 C1923 stürm. «‫ ·י‬E l 8 6 0 a S1866 S1893 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 norr, L1875 L1902 otn. urr, S1803 agueno, J1884 astno. 61 B1889 paratr, S1798 S1803 S1829 E1860abc B1861 S1866 L1875 E1880 J1884 J1885 B1889 V1892ab S1893 L 1 9 0 2 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 loque, Sj1932 tukr, S1829 S1866 Sj1932 bueno. 62 S1803 endegar, Sj1932 endilar, L1875 L1902 llorarmuncho-, S1798 Porim. 63 S1803 E1860a S1893 Ytú, Sj1932 me /; S1803 %>,J1884 hiŠ0. 64 S1798 vinimos. 65 L1902 de Agagoer, S1829 S1866 Sj1932 muestra, E1860bc E1880 V1892b E1913 nuestra; C1923 ra%a. 66 Ε1860a S1866 S1893 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 non; S1798 Porim. 49

67 68 69 70

71

72 73 74 75

76

77 78

79 80

81

82

83

16

Enrecíate tú, Arisay,67 como Ahimán y Šišay, véngate de Ben-Yišay 68 y gásta1es el Purim." 69

17

Despoés vino Ariday7O llorando con mucho goay,71 para modre Mordejay 72 enforcáse en Purim. 73

18

Despoés vino Vai2ata:74 "Lo que a mi mâs me mata 75 quedarme mi facha alta76 encolgado en Purim." 77

19

La su mujer le decia 78 qué era esta alferecia, 79 con Mordejay qué tenia a tomarse en Purim. 80

20

"Calla tú, Zereš la loca, a ti hablar no te toca,81 por ti odreni la força 82 y me la estreni en Purim." 83

J 1 8 8 4 J 1 8 8 5 C l 9 2 3 o m . tu. Sj1932 vengati. S1 S0ijgástales, Sj 1932 igasta 1er, J1884 al. S1829 S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932 Después, B1861 B1889 V1892a C1923 Denpuir, L1902 o m . vino·, B1861 B1889 V1892ab Sj1932^1 risqy. S1803 mugo, S1798 S1829 E1860abc B1861 L1875 E 1 8 8 0 J 1 8 8 4 J 1 8 8 5 B1889 V1892a S1893 L I 9 0 2 E l 9 1 3 C l 9 2 3 muncho-, S1829 S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932guqy. E 1 8 6 0 b c E 1 8 8 0 E 1 9 1 3 por modre de, Sj1932 poramorde. J 1 8 8 5 E 1 9 1 3 C1923 Sj1932 se enforce, S1803 enporcose,) 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 enforcôse. L1875 L1902 Y después, S1829 S1866 Sj1932 Después, B1861 B1889 V1892a Denpués. S1803 S1829 E1860abc B1861 S1866 L1875 E 1 8 8 0 J 1 8 8 4 J 1 8 8 5 B1889 V1892ab S1893 L1902 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Loque, Sj1932 Luke, todas salvo L1875 L1902 Sj1932 ami, E 1 8 6 0 a b c E 1 8 8 0 E 1 9 1 3 o m . mar, SI 893 me mâs mata. B1861 V1892ab quedar conmi, B1889 Sj1932 quedar con mi, E 1 9 1 3 quedar ml·, S1798 S1829 E1860abc B1861 S1866 L1875 E l 8 8 0 J1884 J 1 8 8 5 B1889 V1892a L1902 C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932 pacha, S1803 posa, E 1 9 1 3 paga. J 1 8 8 5 S1893 C1923 encolgando; Β1889 el·, S1803 Porim. E1860abc L1875 E 1 8 8 0 L1902 E 1 9 1 3 Sj1932 o m . sir, S1803 muguer, J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 mojer, L1875 L1902 me le decia, S1803 ledecia, S1829 S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 le dicia. S1798 a/fertciya, S1829 Sj1932 alferiäa, S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 alfiricia. S1803 SI 829 E1860abc B1861 S1866 E l 880 j 1884 J 1 8 8 5 B1889 V1892a S1893 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 atomarse, Sj 1932 a tomarsi. T o d a s salvo L1875 L1902 Sj1932 ati-, S1893 habla, E1860a S1893 non te t., V 1 8 9 2 b note t., J1884 no tetoca. L1875 J1885 L1902 C1923 que por ti, B1861 E 1 8 8 0 B1889 V1892ab porte, S1829 E1860a S1866 J1884 J1885 V 1 8 9 2 b S1893 E 1 9 1 3 C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932 ordenr, S1803 porca, S1829 B1861 S1866 J 1 8 8 4 J 1 8 8 5 B1889 V1892ab C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932 borca. E l 860a J 1 8 8 4 J 1 8 8 5 S 1 8 9 3 j w S 1 8 2 9 j .«ώ, S1866 C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 j ^ e la, S1798 S 1 8 0 3 j / w / ‫; ״‬ S1829 E1860a S1866 J1884 J1885 S1893 C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 1strená, Sj1932 estrini.

21

Vino su hija Remor: 84 "Despoés de tanta amor, 85 colgarlo como un hamor 86 mandé Ahasveros en Purim. 87

22 88 La mano me se tullera89 coando echi el bacin de medra." 90 De la ventana en riera91 se echô en dia de Purim. 92

84 85 86

87 88 89 90

91

92

93 94 95 96 97 98 99

100 101

23

Y Šimši el escribano se mataba con su mano, 93 avoltaba roto y sano, sienpre salia Purim. 94

24

Los amigos le hablaban, con esto lo amargaban, 95 "Yisrael bien se alaban 96 por d en este Purim." 97

25

Al cabo lo suntrujeron 98 que enforcar lo quiseron, 99 "jisa, isa!" le dijeron, 100 lo colgaron en Purim. 101

E l 860a S1893 V. asu b, S1803 higtr, S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Rimor. SI 829 S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj 1932 Después, B1861 B1889 VI 892a Denpués. E1860abc L1875 E1880 J1884 J1885 S1893 L1902 E1913 cotgaldo, C1923 colgado, Sj1932 enkongaldo. S1798 Porim. S1893 E1913 om. estr. SI803 mesetullera, S1829 S1866 L1875 J1884 J1885 L1902 C1923 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 se le t., Sj1932 mise t. S1803 mande, S1829 S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Sj1932 cuando-, S1803 egui, L1875 J1885 L1902 C1923 ech&, J1884 a/b, B1861 B1889 V1892ab e! b. atiera, L1875 L1902 el b. en /‫·״‬ra.J1885 C1923 elb. de medra. S1803 E1860bc S1866 L1875 E1880 J1884 J1885 L1902 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 Delà, E1860abc E1880 a liera-, B1861 B1889 V1892ab 22cy esto no aconteciera (Sj1932 akuntisera), L1875 L1902 22c De la v. se echo en t. / areventô como puerca. S1803 ego-, E1860bc E1880 om. dia de-, B1861 L1875 B1889 V1892ab L1902 22d enel dia de P. (Sj1932 en et)-, S1798 Porim. Cl 923 om. 23b-, E1860bc B1861 E1880 V1892a consu mano, E1860a S1893 con sus manos. L1875 E l 8 8 0 V1892b L1902 E1913 C1923 Sj1932 siempre-, B1861 B1889 V1892ab Sj1932 J. en P. J1884 amargaban, J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 amargaban. E1860abc E1880 E1913 om. bien. B1861 V1892ab portr, J1885 C1923 en e. dia de P. Todas Alcabo-, S1829 S1866 J 1 9 2 4 / 7 6 sontrujeron, E1860bc E1880 E1913 trujeron. S1798 S1803 J1884 enporcar, E1860a B1889 enforcar, J1885 enforvcar, S1798 S1803 quiguervn, Sj 1932 ke^eron. S1803 ledijeron, Sj1932 le deiewn. E1860abc E1880 S1893 E1913 ίο encotgarvn, B1861 L1875 B1889 V1892ab L1902 Sj1932 10 enforcaron.

Glosario102 Adaliá (12a): uno de los hijos de Amán [hb.], Agag (5b, 15c): el antepasado de Amán [hb.]. Ahaívemi(21d): "Asuero" [hb.]. Ahimán (16b): uno de los gigantes de Palesdna [hb.]. alfereäa (19b): "perlesia, hemiplejia" [cf. DRAE]. Aridata (13c): uno de los hijos de Amán [hb.]. Ariday (17a): uno de los hijos de Amán [hb.]. Aspata (8a): uno de los hijos de Amán [hb.]. barin (22b): "orinal" [cf. DRAEj. Ben-Yišay (16c): uno de los nombres que recibe Mardoqueo [hb.]. cabristo (3c): "ronzal" [cf. DCECH, s.v. cabestro]. Dalfin (7a): uno de los hijos de Amán [hb.], enmentar (3b): "hacer mention." facha (18c): "cara" [it.facria]. gastar (16d): "estropear, corromper" [Romero 1979: 3, 1233] hamor (3d, 21c): "asno" [hb.], 'icar, el(3a): "lo importante, lo esencial" [hb.], isa (25c): "grito para incitar, animar a hacer algo." manäa (8b): "pena" [cf. DRAE, s.v. mancilla\. mania (8c): "brazalete, puisera" [cf. DRAE, s.v. manilla]. matarse (23b): "pegarse." modre, para/por (17c): "a causa de." Mordejay (17c, 19c): "Mardoqueo" [hb.]. negro (7b): "malo." Parmaita (15a): uno de los hijos de Amán [hb.]. Paršandata (5a): uno de los hijos de Amán [hb.]. Porata (10a): uno de los hijos de Amán [hb.]. rasta (15c): "linaje." reayá (12c): "prueba, senal" [hb.]. registo (3 b): "vergüenza" [cf. DCECH, s.v. gesto). Remor(21a): hija de Amán [hb.]. šal0m (15d): "paz" [hb.], sehora (13b): "tristeza" [hb. mará χ.]. SimŠi (23a): escribano del rey Asuero [hb.]. Šišay (16b): uno de los gigantes de Palesdna [hb.]. sontraer (25a): "arras trar." ta'anit (9d): "ayuno" [hb.]. tomarse con, a (19d): "enfadarse, renir." Vaiyata (18a): uno de los hijos de Aman [hb.]. Zera' (lc): "descendencia, descendiente" [hb.]. Zeres" (20a): mujer de Amán [hb.].

102

Entre paréntesis indicamos la estrofa y el verso en el que aparece la entrada. Entre corchetes senalamos la procedencia lingüisdca del término: [hb.] = hebreo, e [it.] = italiano.

Bibliografia Bunis, D.M. 1974. The Historical Development of Jude^mo Orthography: A brief sketch. New York: YIVO Institute. , 1975. A Guide to Reading and Writing Jude^mo. New York: The Judezmo Society. Carracedo, L. 1981. "Textos purimicos de carácter burlesco." En Actos de las Jornadas de Estudios Sefardies, 123—130. Cáceres: Universidad de Extremadura. Corominas, J., y Pascual, J. A. 1980. Diccionario critico etimolôgico castellano e hispänico. Madrid: Gredos. Hassán, I. M. 1976. Las copias de Purim. Universidad Complutense. Madrid. Tesis Doctoral inédita. , 1978. "Transcription normalizada de textos judeoespanoles." Estudios Sefardies I, 147-150. , 1988. "Sistemas graficos del espanol sefardi." En Adas de I Congreso International de Historia de la Lengua Espanola, 127-137. Madrid: Arco Libro. Nehama, J. 1977. Dictionnaire dujudéo-espagnol. Madrid: CSIC. Prieto Prieto, R. 1995. "Algunas consideraciones acerca de las copias sefardies de carácter burlesco." Cuadernos de! La^arillo 8, 59-60. Salamanca: Colegio de Espana. Prieto Prieto, R. 1997. Edition y estudio de la copiajudeoespanola burlesca de Purim: E! testamento de Aman. Universidad de Valladolid. Memoria de Licenciatura, inédita. Real Academia Espanola. 1992. Diccionario de la lengua espanola. Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, 21* Ediciôn. Romero, E. 1979. El teatro de los sefardies orientales. 3 vols. Madrid: CSIC. , 1981. "Las copias sefardies: categorias y estado de la cuesdôn." En Actus de las]0rt1adas de Estudios Sefardies, 69-98. Cáceres: Universidad de Extremadura. , 1989. La ley en ta leyenda: Relates de tema biblico en tasfuentes hebreas. Madrid: CSIC. , 1992. Bibliografia analitica de ediciones de copias sefardies. Madrid: CSIC.

PROCESO DE RECASTELLANIZACIÔN DEL J U D E S M O ALDINA QUINTANA RODRIGUEZ* T h e Hebrew University, Jerusalem, Israel

Resumen La présente comunicaciôn trata del proceso de recastellanizaciôn del judesmo y del consecuente abandono de elementos turcos, hebreos y franceses en la lengua de los sefardies; también explica algunos de los factores que ocasionan dicho proceso. Asi mismo se invesdgan la conciencia lingüisdca de los sefardies sobre las lenguas que emplearon y emplean, asi c o m o los cambios que en este senudo fueron teniendo lugar desde el siglo XVI. Finalmente se analizan algunos de los instrumentos lingüisucos utilizados por autores sefardies en el proceso de recastellanizaciôn de la lengua escrita.

Conciencia lingiiistica de los sefardies La conciencia lingüisdca que los sefardies poseen de las lenguas por ellos usadas, debe ser analizada desde una triple perspecdva que varia según la época y las circunstancias extralingüisdcas. E n funciôn de la situaciôn de diglosia hebreo-judesmo, 1 caracterisuca de los sefardies entre los siglos XVI y XIX, al hebreo (Lesbon ha-Kodesh) le es asignado el papel de la lengua del pueblo judio. Al judesmo le es concedido solamente el calificativo de "lengua ajena," especialmente en el siglo XVI. 2 D e esta relation 3 résulta el siguiente esquema:

*

1

2

3

HEBREO

-*

Lesbon ha-Kodesb

‫>־‬

Nuestra Lengua Santa

LADINO

‫»־‬

a von (-pecado)

‫»־־‬

lengua ajena

Munchas grasias alos miembros del Konsejo de La Au ion dad Nasiona/a de! Lidino de Israel por el ayudo material emprestado. De mezmo grasias a los safranim de la Biblioteka Ben Tsvi de Yerushalayim ke kon grande pasensia me emprestan tantas goyas sefaradis. Salud i vidas largas a todos eyos! Aunque el nombre que con más frecuencia usan los sefardies es ladino, mantenemos aqui el término judesmo, siguiendo la tradiciôn establecida por el Prof. David M. Bunis en la Universidad Hebrea de Jerusalén. Véanse las Hakdamoth de las siguientes obras del siglo 16: - R a b i n o Moshe Almosnino: Livro entilolado Regimien/o de la Vida. Salônica 1564, p. 13 de la Hakdama. -Bahye Ibn Pakuda: Sefer Hovoth ha-Levavoth. Trad, en ladino de S. b. Y. Formon. Salônica 1567, portada. -SeferShulhan ha-Panim. Salônica 1568, pp. 4a-4b de la Hakdamá. Las mujeres quedan fueran de esta situaciôn de diglosia. Sus conocimientos de hebreo, en general, eran muy reducidos.

En relaciôn al Espanol de la Peninsula solamente entrado el siglo XVIII, los sefardies son conscientes de hablar una variedad diferente de aquélla, como se desprende de los comentarios de Yakov Khuli en la Hakdamâ del volumen Bereshith de Me'am Lo'e% (Estambul: 1732) donde afirma que sus " 'avlas son muys seradas... ke 'aun ke syerto 'es ke 10 suyo 'es 10 dereco 'i vedradero, pero syendo la gente de 'estas partes no 10 'entyenden, no puede 'aprovecarse de 'el..."* cuando se refiere a las obras publicadas en el siglo XVI. E incluso mâs déterminante es David Atdas en La Gwerta de Oro (Livorno 1778), cuando habla de "nuesa lengua espanyola levant.ina'' h Tengamos aqui en cuenta que nos encontramos de lleno dentro del llamado siglo de oro de la literatura sefardi. El papel del judesmo frente a otras lenguas, aparte del hebreo, se plantea por primera vez en el siglo XIX, sobre todo después de la publication de la reforma de Tanqjmat en 1839. Durante la primera mitad del siglo XIX además de continuar apareciendo obras en judesmo, se publican también diversos métodos para la ensenanza de otras lenguas, y sobre todo para la ensenanza del hebreo a los nifios sefardies. 6 El rabino Eliezer Papo estuvo a punto de publicar su obra Pelé Yoets (1824) en judesmo. Finalmente se decidiô por la lengua hebrea, debido a que queria que la obra fuera también usada fuera de la comunidad sefardi. Pero en 1870 (vol. I) y 1972 (vol. II) aparecieron en Viena sendos volûmenes en ladino. 7 Por la reforma de Tan^mat se concedia a las minorias la igualdad de derechos con los musulmanes. Después de la derrota de Imperio Otomano por las potencias occidentales, comenzô la occidentalizaciôn otomana con la consiguiente secularization de la sociedad. Francia era entonces el modelo a seguir. Los sefardies tampoco permanecieron ajenos a estas influencias que ocasionaron el surgimiento de tendencias lingtiisticas y literarias nuevas, como puede ser el desarrollo de la prensa secular y la creation y publication de obras de contenido laico. La caracteristica preocupaciôn lingüistica occidental por el "buen uso de la lengua" se manifiesta, por ejemplo, en Shaare Mi^rah (Edirne 1845), uno de los primeros periôdicos sefardies. Su director se quejaba de la mestura del judesmo y de la pérdida de la homogeneidad lingüistica entre las comunidades sefardies,8 e identificaba como verdadera lengua espanola, la hablada en la Peninsula: ... ke del dia ke nwestros tigos salyeron de la Espanya rompyeron la vedradera lingwa espanyola < i > la fweron pratikado kada uno segûn le venia. I era por razôn ke eyos tenian tantas kozas ke pensar otro ke la lingwa... I de entonses kaminaron ansi de manera ke se pedryô e la konosensya de la vedradera lingwa espanyola... 9

4 5 6

7 8

9

Khuli, Y. 1732. Me'am Lo'e% Bereshith. Hakdamâ. Estambul. Attias, D. b. M. 1778. La Gwerta de Oro. Livorno, en la Hakdamâ del autor. Véanse a este respecto el método para los morim de Yisrael b. Hayim de Belogrado: Hattox taNaar. Viena 1821, y varios libros de ensenanza de hebreo para los metamde tinokoth de Yehuda Alkalay publicados entre 1839 y 1840. Véase la Hakdamâ del traductor al ladino, Yehuda Eliezer Papo de Papo 1870: 3. Véase a este respecto lo que escribia el director de S haare Mibrox. 30 Kislev 5606 [29.12.1845], Hakdamâ del komponedor, 1. Reproducido y transcrito en Bunis 1992: 48. Cf. ant., 1.

Otro acontecimiento decisivo que puso en contacto al judesmo con otras lenguas, fue la independencia de los estados nacionales que componian el andguo Imperio Otomano, lograda en el ultimo tercio del siglo XIX y principios el 20 que, por primera vez, obligaba a los sefardies a aprender la respecdva lengua nacional. El turco aunque habia sido la lengua oficial del imperio, no habia sido lengua obligatoria de las minorias, de manera que a principios del présente siglo, solo una minoria sefardi lo hablaba, como nos muestra el considerable numéro de textos legales traducidos del turco al judesmo después de la introduction de la reforma de Tamgmat.

Precedentes de la "recastellanizaciôn " El castellano de los anusim El castellano, llevado por los anusim llegados al Imperio Otomano casi sin interrupciôn desde el siglo XVI, dejô ciertas huellas en algunas de las variedades lingüisdcas de los sefardies, sobre todo en la de Estambul (v.gr., uso de muchas palabras sin la/etimolôgica ladna).

El castellano de los Protestantes Después de la reforma de Tanymat se permidô la entrada de misioneros protestantes en el Imperio Otomano. Sus intenciones eran de carácter proselitista. Para ello, su primera labor fue la publication de traducciones biblicas y de libros sobre crisdanismo y educaciôn, manuales y periôdicos, en una mezcla de castellano-judesmo, ausente de cualquier elemento turco, hebreo o de otra lengua. Parece que la misiôn no tuvo mucho éxito, aunque si sirviô para poner a los sefardies en contacto con géneros literarios seculares y con muchos fenômenos lingüisdcos del espanol moderno, desconocidos antes por los sefardies. 10 Por ejemplo, la terminologia édco-religiosa crisdana suele susdtuir en las obras de temas religiosos, a la propia usada por los sefardies: sabado (sabath), biblya (tanach), trompeta (sofar o kwerno), primogenito (bechor ο mayor)... 11

La Haskalâ La Haskalâ ocasionô el surgimiento de los primeras entusiastas sefardies partidarios del uso del castellano moderno. En Viena el periodista Josef Kalwo en 1867 fue el primero en proponer una susdtuciôn del judesmo por el castellano moderno. 12 En 1885 comenzô a publicarse en Turnu-Severin (Rumania) el "Lucero de la Paciencia" (en lugar de pasensia) bajo la direction del rabino L. M. Crispin. La grafia ladna y la importante presencia de formas castellanas (Dios por el Dio; médias por calsas; sombrero por chapello, etc.), asi como la sufijaciôn (apaniateis o arepudiaeis, estaeis) son las caracterîsdcas más notorias de esta temprana publication recastellanizada.

10 11 12

Véase a este respecto Bunis 1993: 425-426, y Bunis 1996: 228-229. Ejemplos en Tomson 1886. Citado en Bunis 1996: 229.

Los jôvenes sefardies vieneses veian en la conservaciôn de la lengua espanola entre los sefardies, la ûnica posibilidad de sobrevivir culturalmente como judios en medio de las sociedades nacionales en las que habitaban, asi como de pervivir como grupo con idenddad propia frente a otros grupos judios. Este era uno de los fines que tenia la sociedad académica por ellos creada el 24 de julio de 1897, bajo el nombre de "La Esperanza," que un ano más tarde impulsô la creaciôn del periôdico "El Progreso" en letras ladnas y que finalmente en 1890 se planteô el acercamiento al castellano para "purificar y perfeccionar" su "lengua madré," cuyo primer paso para ello debia de ser el uso de las letras ladnas, porque el judesmo contenia, "grande abondancia dey erras j faltas, especialmente causados por las letras hebraicas ... empleadas en el escribir.. ."13

L'Alliance Israélite Universelle y el "judeo-fragnol" Aun más trascendencia lingüisdca que el contacto de los misioneros protestantes con las comunidades sefardies o la influencia de la Haskalâ, tuvo la apertura de escuelas de L'Alliance Israélite Universelle en 1860. Las primeras discusiones pûblicas en pro o en contra del uso del judeo-espanol, como los alumnos de L'Alliance Israélite Universelle lo empezaron a llamar, tuvieron lugar en las comunidades sefardies del sur (Salônica, Estambul, Esmirna...). L'Alliance Israélite Universelle relacionaba al judesmo con la situaciôn de ignorancia y miseria, en la que, segûn sus dirigentes, vivian los judios en Oriente y lo comenzaron a llamar: "jargon, jerga, lengua corrompida, jerga corrompida, lengua bastarda..." Sin embargo, este "judéo-fragnol," segûn el término propuesto por H. V. Sephiha, 14 ahora con una masiva cantidad de términos franceses espanolizados que habian susdtuido a los turquismos y a los hebraismos contenidos en el léxico de los sefardies, seguiria siendo la variedad usada por los propios ex-alumnos de L'Alliance Israélite en la prensa y en su production literaria sin disdnciôn de géneros. La introduction del género periodisdco dene aqui como consecuencia el surgimiento de un nuevo estilo que usa predominantemente construcciones verbales pasivas, poco usadas hasta enfonces en la variedad espanola de los sefardies. La estructura de la oration pasiva es la misma que en espanol moderno. Ciertos "gazeteros" toman incluso nexos oracionales del espanol moderno en lugar de los franceses. Una forma conocida en ladino era "el kualo /la kuala"— pero que no tenia mucho uso—se emplearà ahora con excesiva frecuencia al lado del pronombre reladvo kuyos/kuyas (en lugar de *lekel, *lakel [lequel, laque//
13 14

Sobre este tema, se puede consultar PuIido1904: 51-61. Véase Sephiha 1973: 239-249.

toma el del castellano, pudiendo considerarse que la influencia del castellano sobre el judesmo, se initia aqui.

Angel Pulido y su ideal lingiiistico15 A finales del siglo XIX, la "recastellanizacion" era solo una posibilidad más frente al uso de otras lenguas (lenguas nacionales ο hebreo), y sobre todo frente al francés. Pero en aquellos momentos résulté la de menos éxito. Precisamente la obra de Angel Pulido "Espafioles sin patria y la raza sefardi" (1905) aporta datos muy interesantes de las diferentes posturas respecto al tema de la posible recastellanizaciôn en el seno de las comunidades sefardies. Estas se pueden agrupar asi:

a) Anticastellanistas: ...[Los Israelitas] no tiencn, ... ningûn sentimiento de simpatía por su pais, y conservan el espanol, ...solamente porque se han hallado con que no sabian mas que esta lengua, y no habian aprendido ninguna otra. Tenemos una prueba convincente en el hecho de que la generation nueva, que es ya un fruto de la instruction francesa, répugna hablar en la lengua espanola que aprendieron en su infancia para hablar lo mas posible su nuevo lenguage. 16

b) Procastellanistas: ...lo porvenir [del judeo-espanol] ...yo lo veo muy brillante. Este porvenir sera encoronado el dia ande Espana se decidira a enviar a Oriente profesores de lengua que contribuiran al mejoramiento del judeo-espanol, como la aliance israelite contribui al relevamiento i moral de los israelistas en Oriente... 17

Otra opinion similar: ...no tenemos sino conservar el judeo-espanol, no este innoble jargon actual..., sino un judeo-espanol al que hayamos puesto piel nueva... Puede bastarnos ... un espanol que sin aspirar á ser el mas puro castellano, sea por lo menos su mas proximo pariente... 18

En Sarajevo, aunque no hubo escuelas de L'Alliance Israélite Universelle, hubo, sin embargo, entusiastas de las ideas de A. Pulido. Uno de ellos fue el director de La Alborada, autor y editor del varias novelas, Abraham A. Cappon, amigo personal del senador. Su judesmo presenta claros influjos del castellano. Veamos algunos de ellos: a) castellanizaciôn de formas sefardies a través de su diptongaciôn: ken

‫»־־‬

kyen ;

sensya

‫»־־‬

syensya

septembre ‫ ·־‬septembre b) susutuciôn de formas sefardies espanolas por formas casteUanas: 15 16

17

18

Con referencia al ideal lingûisdco de Angel. Pulido en relaciôn a los sefardies véase Pulido 1904. G. Francos, publicista de Esmirna en carta de 6 de junio de 1904, enviada a Angel Pulido y publicada en Pu1ido1905: 109-111. Shamuel Sadi Levy, director de La Epoca de Salônica, 8 de junio de 1904, en Pulido 1905: 115117. Jacques Danon, publicista de Edirne: " E n busca de una lengua." E n L ' Univers Israélite, de Paris 1902, reproducido en Pulido 1905: 139.

disputas

‫•־‬

polemika ;

batimyento de palmas

aldikera

‫ *־־‬bolsiyo

‫ *־־‬aplausos

judezmo

judaismo;

sivdad

‫ »־־‬siudad

fechos

ofisios;

penserios

‫ *־‬pensamientos

mosa ·* senyorita ; el Dio ‫ •־־‬Dios c) nuevas fonnas para designar nuevos conceptos: diario, consursos... d) anotaciôn de la traducciôn castellana junto al término hebreos: minzar (konvento)·,

sah'Ii (intelekluat)

miskan (tabemakulo); sedaká (karidad) e) eliminaciôn total de formas turcas.

Es necesario mencionar aqui que los sionistas defendian el uso del hebreo y los nacionalistas el uso de las lenguas de los respecdvos estados nacionales creados entre 1877 y 1924. La polémica lingüisdca sobre el uso de las lenguas, continuô hasta los anos cuarenta, cuando llegô la catâstrofe decisiva para el judesmo, al ser practicamente exterminadas las comunidades de Grecia y Yugoslavia por los nazis. La creaciôn del Estado de Israel en 1948 también tuvo consecuencias negativas para el uso del judesmo, al obtener la lengua hebrea el status de lengua nacional de Israel, hecho que fue masivamente apoyado por los sefardies, lo cual concuerda perfectamente con la idea lingüisdca constantemente mantenida por ellos a través de los siglos respecto a cuàl es la verdadera lengua del pueblo judio. El judesmo, ladino o nuestra lengua espanyola, que ya en el siglo XVI era considerada una lengua de circunstancias, se veia definitivamente relegada a un uso temporal: mientras los olim aprendieran hebreo.

Recastellanizaciôn Además, después de la creaciôn del Estado de Israel, la recastellanizaciôn del judesmo fue evidente. Dentro de aquella perspectiva de temporalidad concedida a la lengua sefardi, el uso generalizado de la grafia latina fue el medio que más destacô en este proceso, pero no el ùnico. La sustituciôn léxica fue y es el instrumento más usado para ello en todos los campos de la literatura sefardi. Desde 1948, casi todas las publicaciones en judesmo denen un contenido profano, con la exception de algunas obras de contenido halâjico y sobre la tradiciôn judia entre las que se debe destacar la obra del Rabino Nissin Behar z"l, y algunos sidurim con traducciôn, impresos en Israel o en comunidades sefardies de Estados Unidos, además de la traditional Hagadá de Pesah. Sin embargo, lo más frecuente es que incluso estas traducciones se hagan al castellano, rompiendo asi con una tradiciôn casi milenaria, y eliminando formas especificamente judias que se habian formado en las juderias de Sepharad, como el Dio, meldar, Ajifio... por mencionar las más caracterîsdcas, que ahora son sustituidas por las formas hispano-cristianas: "Dios, re^aro leer, Egipto..." Desde el primer momento la funciôn que le fue asignada el judesmo, fue solo temporal y para contribuir a la integration de los inmigrantes sefardies. La primera publication periodistica en Israel fue El Tiempo que se empezô a publicar el 6 de julio de 1950, con alfabeto latino y un lenguaje y estilo más o menos

prôximos al castellano, con influencias del francés. Esto séria también caracteristico de todos los periôdicos sefardies aparecidos posteriormente en Israel. ... el Estado de Israel despiega una grande actividad por traer a la conossencia del oie, en la lingua que el conosse, todos los elementos propios para guiarlo en su nuevo vida. Existen jurnales y publicaciones diversas, en yidisch, Inglez, Alleman, franses etc., ma asta oy no tuvimos un periodico, endependiente, en lingua judeoespaniol. Nuestro jurnal quiere servir de ponte—en sus primeros tiempos de sus instalaciones en el paes—entre los olim, avlando espaniol y viniendo de Turquia, Bulgaria, Grecia y Yougoslavie, y el Yichuv... (1)

Fueron varios los periôdicos que se publicaron en judesmo para los olim, que a principios de los anos setenta estaban perfectamente integrados en la sociedad hebreo-israeli; la prensa sefardi en judesmo habia cumplido con su comeddo y, por tanto, todos aquellos medios de difusiôn fueron cerrando. Heredero directo del estilo de aquellas primeras publicaciones periodisticas, no por su contenido ni por sus fines, es la revista cultural Akt Yerushalayim, que ya en el primer numéro del ano 1979 anunciaba: ...desidimos de adoptar la ortografia del espanyolo moderno, ma kon unos kuantos chikos trokamientos ke tienen por buto de simplifikarla i adaptarla a los menesteres partikulares de muestra lengua... 19

Y ésta es la linea seguida hasta el dia de hoy, aunque existan grafias mâs castellanas que ésta, pues también usa combinaciones de signos grâficos desconocidas en castellano (, < s h > , , , ), signos parcialmente desconocios () o asignados a otros sonidos (, , < z > , < h > , esta ultima no representa a ningûn sonido en castellano). Sin embargo, dejando fuera la grafia, el castellano es el modelo lingüistico del judeo-espanol en Akt Yerushalayim, como lo era en El Tiempo: ...para krear muevas palavras para responder a los dezvelopamientos modernos... Muchos pensan ke la lengua—modelo del djudeo—espanyol deve ser el espanyol kastiliano, la lengua kon la kuala el djudeo-espanyol dene los mas estrechos atadijos linguistikos i kulturales. 20

Paralelo al proceso de recastellanizaciôn a través de la incorporaciôn de léxico castellano para denominar nuevos objetos, asistimos a un proceso de éliminaciôn de términos procedentes de otras lenguas que son básicamente el francés, el turco y el hebreo, igual que ya vimos cuando me referi al lenguaje utilizado por Abraham A. Cappon, de Sarajevo. Una de las soluciones, segûn Moshe Shaul, es de empesar a uzar de muevo munchas de las palavras djudeo-espanyolas ke fueron olvidadas kon el tiempo i resplasadas por palavras turkas, bulgaras, 19

20

Véase " E s ke ay menester de una nueva ortografia para el djudeo-espaniol?." Akj Yerushalayim 1, 1979, 4. Shaul 1996: 623-624. En las palabras subrayadas por la autora de este trabajo, se puede observar una influencia directa del castellano en el judeo-espanol de A. Y.

f r a n s e z a s , etc. k o m o , p o r e n s h e m p l o , merà en lugar d e grasias, musiu (...) en lu21 gar d e sitiyor etc.

Résulta muy complicado recuperar esas viejas fuentes del ladino, especialmente porque no existen diccionarios o trabajos histôricos en el campo del léxico y, por tanto, es mucho más sencillo y prâcdco acudir al léxico castellano. Este método de sustituciôn léxica es también el empleado por los redactores de Kol Israel. En otras publicaciones, como en el libro de ensenanza de Erella Gategno & Dr. Shmuel Refael: Primeros pasos en judeo-espaniol. Tel-Aviv 1994 (que solamente al principio del libro hace uso de la grafia launa para pasar a la de rashi progresivamente), el acercamiento al castellano dene lugar a través de la election de la variante fônica coïncidente con la castellana o la más cercana a ésta, si hay dos o más variantes disponibles en el judesmo de Salônica. He aqui algunos ejemplos: respondi vs. arespondi (.respondi no se recoge en el Diccionario de Nehama) nwestra vs. mwestra (Nehama: nwestra 'langage noble'. [On dit plutôt mwestw dans le langage usuel]) persona vs. presona doktores vs. dotores guardar vs. guadrar mucho en lugar de muncho kwerpo rabiniko y guardar Shabath, estas dos formas son castellanas.

En cuanto a los turquismos, son los elementos de otras lenguas que más se suelen evitar en todo la production en judeo-espanol—excepto en las obras aparecidas en Turquia. N o solo se trata de susdtuir léxico turco, sino también sufijos turcos perfectamente incorporados a la lengua de los sefardies y que Servian para intensificar el significado de raices hebreas o espanolas en situaciones de humor, familiaridad, menosprecio o darle un carácter de "jerga sécréta" a la lengua. Me estoy refiriendo a los sufijos siguientes: —g Í [adjedvador] [sustandvador] -11'

[adjedvador]

-lik [sustandvador]

21 22

23

trampa^/(-tramp0s0); hasbonj/ (=prudente) diburg/ [Sar.], palavragi [Sal.] (=favlador) 22 kamionjr (camionero); 0t0busjf/(c0nd. autobus) 2 3 bakašajf/ (el que canta mal, frente al buen "paitan ha-bakasoth") xenli [Sal. ] (=x1n«ço [Sar.]) (-simpâdco) aslaxa//(=provecozo); sans// (~con oportunidades) safek//[Sal.] (=safeko^o [Sar.]) (~cosa dudosa) benadam//<è [Sal.] (benadamidad [Sar.]) kapitanlik (=diresion del porto [Sar.]) (capitania) xaxambaš//é (=Rabinado) putan/té (=traisyon) (esp.vg. -putada).

Shaul 1996: 623. En dobletes de este upo, la forma espanola dene una connotaciôn posidva y la forma sufijada con -gi dene un significado pevoradvo, especialmente si la raiz es hebrea. Asi un favlador es àquel que posee dotes de orador, mientras que un diburgi e s uno que habla mucho y lo que dice no riene sentido. Estas son profesiones carentes de prestigio entre los sefardies.

Según Sephiha, 24 también existen en judesmo términos turcos (y no solo) sinonimos del lexema espanol que sirven para intensificar el contenido semântico del elemento hispano: -halii (puro, verdadero) + vedradero = halts vedradero (verdadero de verdad) (helado) + yelado (helado) = yelado bu% (glacial)

Este redoblamiento sinonimico tampoco lo encontramos en los textos modernos. En Aki Yerushalayim encontramos también cambios en la sufijaciôn, con una tendencia a usar /-imiento, siempre que el término va a coincidir con la forma castellana: konosimiento (konesensia) rekonosimiento (rekonosenia) arekojimiento (arekojida) 25

Otra de las estrategias en este proceso de recastellanizaciôn se realiza con la introducciôn de términos para designar nuevos conceptos u objetos. La mayoria de estos términos, expresiones y construcciones sintagmáticas se toman directamente del castellano: ultimas sesiones... de la [kneset], sesion inaugurala o primera sesion, entusiasmo, organisme ofisial... la ley fue aprobada..:, pa ley] entro en vigor, segun fueron enumeradas en el artikolo II; ley para la kreasion de..\ en rekonosimiento de su importante aktividadpublika-, promover la investigasion de.. .26

Un lugar destacado en la recastellanizaciôn, lo ocupa la introducciôn de expresiones adverbiales castellanas: a través de, en efekto, inmediatamente, (no solo...) sino ke... también11‫־‬... entre otras.

Bibliografia Aki Yerushalayim. 1979-1998. Jerusalén. Alkalay, Y.b. Sh. H . 1839. Kuntres darke noam. B e l g r a d o . A l m o s n i n o , M . 1564. Livro entitolado Regimiento de la Vida. Salônica.

Angel, Y. V. and Levi, A. 1923. Alm anak Yisraelith . Salônica. Arbell, M . 1988. Los djudios de Espanya

i Portugal en la ftlatelia

mundial.

E d i c i ô n trilingiie

Judeo-espanyol-hebreo—inglés. Jerusalén: La Semana Publishing Co. Attias, D. b. M. 1778. La Gwerta de Oro. Livorno. Barquin Lopez, A. 1997. "La lengua de las novelas de Alexander Ben-Guiat." En HispanoJèwish Civilisation after 1492. Proceedings of Misgav Yerushalayim's Fourth International Congress, 1992. Jerusalén: Misgav Yerushalayim, 161-189. Bicerano, S. 1991. Kantes de Maturidad. Estambul: Baski As Matbaacilik. Bunis, D. M. 1992. "The Earliest Judezmo Newspapers." Mediterranean Language Review 6, 7-66. , 1993. "El idioma de los sefardies." En El Legado de Sefarad II. Ed. H. Beinart. Jerusalén: Magnes Press, 414—437. 24 25 26 27

Sephiha 1977: 193. Ejemplos tornados de Akt Yerushalayim 56, 5—7. Aki Yerushalayim 56, 5-7. Akt Yerushalayim 56, 5-7.

, 1996. "Modernization and the Language Quesdon among Judezmo-Speaking Sephardim of the Ottoman Empire." En Sephardi and Middle Eastern Jewries. Ed. H. V. Goldberg. Bloomington / Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 226—239. Cohen, A. 1935. Maimônides, su vidaj su obra. Estambul. Formon, S. b. Y. [Trad. ] 1567. Bahye Ibn Pakuda: Hovoth ha-Levavoth be-laaç Salônica. Gategno, E. & Rafael, Sh. 1994. Primerospasos en Judeo-espaniol. Tel Aviv. Hayim, Y. b. ed. 1813. Sefer Arvaa ve-Esrim. Helek rishon. Viena. , 1821. Hanox la-naar. Viena. , 1823. Οtsar ha-Hayim. Viena. Humash ha-Mercay. Libro de la Torah y las Haftarot 1970. Ed. M. M. Melamed. Jerusalén: Centro Educadvo Sefaradi. Kapon, A. A. 1914. El Angustiador. Piesa teatral en très aktos. Sarayevo: Tip. de Kompania. Khuli, Y. 1732. Me'am Lo'e% Bereshith. Estambul. Levi, A. 1994. "Ha-Targum ha-rishon shel Shulhan Arukh le-Ladino." En Histoiy and Creativity. Proceedings of Misgav Yerushalayim's Third International Congress, 1988. Jeruslén: Misgav Yerushalayim, 55-71. El Livro de la Ley, los Profetas I las Eskrituras. Estambul 1872. Nehama, J. 1977. Dictionnaire du Judéo-Espagnol Madrid: CSIC. Papo, E. 1870. PeléYoets. Vol. I. Ediciôn en ladino. Viena. , 1998. Bibliographia she! "lui Alborada. "Jerusalén [ms. en hebreo] Pulido, A. 1904. Los Israelitas espanolesy el Idioma castellano. Madrid , 1905. Espanoles sin Ρ atriay la Ra%a Sefardi. Madrid Quintana, A. 1997. "Diatopische Variation des Judenspanischen in den Balkanländern und in der Türkei." En Neue Romania, Judenspanish II. Ed. W. Busse. Berlin: Freie Universität, 47-65. Renard, R. 1961. "L'influence du français sur le Judéo-espagnol du Levant." Revue des Langues Vivantes 27, 1, 47—52. Sefer Shulhan ha-Panim 1568. Salônica. Sephiha, H. V. 1973. "Le judéo-fragnol." En Ethno-psychologie 2-3. , 1977. "L'intensité en Judéo-espagnol." En Ibérica I. Paris, 285-294. , 1987. "La gallomanie des Judéo-espagnols de L'Empire Ottoman: un pas de plus vers l'émancipation?" En Politique et religion dans le judaïsme moderne. Des communautés à l'émancipation. Paris: Centre d'Etudes juives de Paris-Sorbonne (Paris IV), 155-166. Shaul, M. 1996. "La ensenyansa del djudeo-espanyol en muestros dias." En Hommage à Haïm Vidal Sephiha. Ed. W. Busse & M. Ch. Varol-Bornes. Berna: Peter Lang Verlag, 617-628. Toledoth 1854. Ala Toledoth Bene Israel 0 sinkwenta i dos kwentas tiradas de! Arvaa ve-Esrim. Estambul. Tomson, A. 1886. Ala Toledoth Bene Israel para el u%0 de !os israelitas protestantes. 3" ed. Estambul.

POEMAS SIN SENSO ( " N O N S E N S E

POETRY")

EN LA POESIA POPULAR SEFARDI‫׳‬ SHMUEL REFAEL Bar-Ilan University, Israel

Introducciôn Si la investigation de la literatura sefardi (ladino) no tuviera aribado al lugar en que se topa hoy y si no tuvieran trocado las fronderas de la discusiôn sobre el término que yo lo llamo aqui "literatura sefardi," no esto seguro que podriamos agora, en tan honorable congreso, hablar por un tema llamado "poemas sin senso en lengua sefardi." La razôn es que no creo que un tema llamado "poemas sin senso" podria ser considerado por mosotros como un tema legal, necesario, apropiado o relevante para la investigation de nuestra literatura. Ama gracias de la simple realità que los poemas sin senso son en el centro de mis palabras en este congreso internacional, da la prueba de la importancia y su posible contribuciôn al desvelopamiento de nuestros àngulos de vista de la poesia popular en lengua sefardi.

Poemas sin senso y la investigaciôn de la literatura sefardi Segûn mi conocencia, la poesia sin senso no ha sido examinada en la investigaciôn de la literatura sefardi por varias razones: a) El estudio de la poesia sefardi se basaba (y ainda es basado) en una profunda exploration de las formas clàsicas y convencionales de la poesia en lengua sefardi como la romanza, las copias y ciertos aspectos de la lirica. b) La investigaciôn de las formas poéticas clàsicas y adecuadas significa una investigaciôn de formas poéticas que la comunidad investigativa tiene motivos para investigar, como la romanza, que se investigô generalmente por motivos pan-hispânicos, o las copias, que generalmente se estudiaron por motivos jidiôs. La exploration de la poesia sin senso no tenia ningûn motivo investigativo, y por esta razôn quedaron afuera de la scena. c) La investigation no tratô con los poemas sin senso, ya que estos caji no fueron recopilados en las antologias dpicas de la poesia en sefardi, en las cuâles generalmente se da lugar a los géneros mâs "representativos" de esta poesia, como la romanza, las copias y ciertas ramas de la lirica. d) La investigaciôn tratô muy poco con estas poesias por m o d o que los informantes de esta poesia colaboraron muy poco con los investigadores. Estos poemas eran considerados por parte de los informantes como "feos," "sucios," "infantiles," "bobedades" y "cantigas de vergüenza": todo esto send cuando les mostri a los informantes las poesias que quiero presentar aqui. e) La investigaciôn dejô a un lado estos poemas por m o d o que los investigadores pensaron que se trataba de literatura "invâlida" o literatura "sin valor" que

más vale dejarla que tocarla, especialmente por el temor de no danar la estérica y el buen nombre que uene la poesia en lengua sefardi. f) El género literario llamado en la literatura general "canciones nonsense" es un género complicado y es bastante dificil de examinarlo; y aun mâs, cuando se trata de su existencia en la poesia popular en lengua sefardi, por examinar este género debemos de conocer la invesdgaciôn de estas poesias en la literatura general y después de adoptar los risultados a la poesia sefardi.

"Nonsense ": definition y términos bàsicos jCuâlos son los poemas sin senso en la literatura general y como puede adoptarse su definition en la literatura sefardi? "Nonsense" en su traducciôn textual significa una cosa "sin senso, sin senddo;" "nonsense" dénota algo tonto, ama el género literario llamado con esta palabra no significa literatura sin senso. Los poemas "nonsense" no son poemas tontos ο creaciones sin senso; son creaciones con otro senso, que es contrario a lo convencional en la forma de pensar y en la habla de las personas. El nombre apropiado para estos poemas es "poemas con otro senso." cQué es el otro senso? En la lengua diaria y también en el género literario se adoptô la palabra "nonsense" (sin senso) como el contrario de "common sense" (senso o sentido com'fan), ο sea, el contrario del uso literario de la lengua figurariva, de los sonidos y la lengua. La mancura de senso es la mancura de "common sense" (senddo comûn), y no la mancura del senso. Este género no es "senseless" (mancura de senso). La poesia "nonsense" (sin senso) se puede ser considerada como poesia para criaturas (que se caracterizan por la facilità de pensar de una manera fresca y no rutinaria) ο puede ser considerada perteneciente a adultos que denen el coraje de romperse las normas lôgicas y de pensar en una manera literaria nueva. Ya se puede decir, en relaciôn de esta poesia, que no es una poesia "charletana" que "quema" las relaciones permanentes de la lengua. En la invesdgaciôn se dice que esta poesia es una poesia de juego con reglas defmidas. Es un juego que libera a las palabras y imágenes de su contexto normal, areglândolas en un nuevo orden. Dentro del "nonsense" existe naturalmente el efecto cômico, que no es considerado por reglas cômicas directas, sino por la sorpresa utilizada en el juego de palabras. Por esto, el que melda la poesia "nonsense" o el que la canta (como en la literatura sefardi) tiene de entender que está tomando parte en un juego. La poesia sin senso para adultos está dejando las convenciones sociales y las normas sacras normarivas sociales. En muchos veces esta poesia fue composada afuera del campo de la literatura canônica, entre otras razones para servir como el contrario del canônico, del honrado, del estérico y del actual. La poesia sin senso es en gran parte la canciôn del pueblo que quiere dar en un formato literario liviano libertad a sus instincciones y impulsos personales. Ansina la poesia sin senso puede amostrarmos a través de lo "no aceptable," algo sobre lo "aceptable." Es una creation sofisticada que enforma una lôgica diferente que está escondida y debe exponerse.

El "nonsense " y la poesîa

sefardi

De la definition preliminaria de la poesîa sin senso, debemos agora examinar el posto de esta poesia dentro la literatura sefardi. Primero debemos de decir que por contrario a la tradiciôn evropea, en el judeo-espanol las poesias sin senso pueden relacionarse como la poesia del pueblo. Es una poesîa que se relaciona a la "voz popular." En lengua sefardi esta poesia fue hecha para ser cantada y no meldada. Aqui hay de acodrarse el importante anâlisis de Elena Romero, que dividiô la poesia en lengua sefardi en dos categorias centrales: poesia para meldar y poesia para cantar. Agora es bien entendido que la poesia sin senso en lengua sefardi pertenece a la segunda categoria, y no la primera. Con esto se endende que los poemas sin senso en sefardi deben examinarse en su senso literario-musical. Creo que estarán d'acuerdo con mi que la poesia sin senso en lengua sefardi es la poesîa de un pueblo que desea, a través de este género, dar alas a sus sendmientos. Es una forma de abandonar los géneros literarios aceptables, la imagen hermosa y buena de la literatura sefardi (como las romanzas) y establecir un campo nuevo, y no normadvo, de sendmientos sefardies. Por contrario a los géneros reconocidos en la poesia sefardi que se unen con una antigua tradiciôn literaria, la poesia sin senso se caracteriza por una vida curta y temporaria. Son poemas creados "agora" para "este momento," y no para generaciones. Son poemas que dinguno podria creer que quedaran en la tradiciôn popular ni que serian transmiddos de unos a otros de generaciôn a generaciôn. Y más: los poemas sin senso en lengua sefardi son poemas en los que el poeta popular podia mencionar todos los temas imposibles de notar en los géneros "clàsicos" de la poesia sefardi, y estar utilizando un formato literario marginal y no convencional. Por modo de esto caji no fue recopilada esta poesia por los editores y escritores de ardeulos y libros que contienen poesia popular en lengua sefardi (fpodés imaginar a don Ramôn Menéndez Pidal coleccionando y registrando estos poemas?). De otro lado, esta poesia caji no fue reconocida por los informantes, ya sea por cl temor de presentar una poesia tan marginal, como también por no dar valor a este dpo de literatura, comparado con el gran respecto brindado por los informantes a las formas genéricas aceptables y admirables de la cultura sefardi.

Un grupo de poemas sin senso Para examinar la calidad de estos poemas y para mirar de cerca las caracterîsdcas literarias, analizaremos agora los poemas que, segûn mi opinion, condenen las calidades básicas del género aqu'ed llamado "sin senso." Por modo que los poemas sin senso en sefardi no fueron recopilados por aquellos que arecogeron poesia popular en lengua sefardi, no era tan facil de topar esta poesia en nuestros dias. Yo sabia sin dinguna duda y claramente que estos poemas existian en el repertorio popular. Para establecir un corpus de textos fici un laboro de campo, vijitando un grupo no muy grande de informantes nacidos en la Turquia y en la Grecia que tenian bastante coraje de cantarme unos poemas sin senso. Los in-

formantes abrieron sus ojos y después sus bocas y llamaron esta poesia "bobedá" o "bobedades," "candgas de sacá," "candgas para reirse," "canrigas sucias" o simplemente "candgas para pasar la hora." Algunos no pudieron entender por qué estos poemas merecian una invesdgaciôn académica y qué interés puede encontrar en ellos la comunidad invesdgadva. Los informantes, caji todos, eran mujeres. Esto mismo hace la colecciôn de los poemas una misiôn complicada, por modo del caracter "inmoral" que muchos de estos poemas están presentando. En otras palabras, estos poemas no están d'acuerdo con la imagen que los informantes querian amostrar y transmetir. Durante el laboro de campo entend! que los informantes están rumpiendo un secreto social o un côdico cultural. Aqui y agora debo notar que unos cuantos de estos poemas se pueden toparse en las colecciones que publicaron Isaac Levi, Moshe Attias, Baruch Uziel y también en el "Proyecto Folklor" de "Kol Israel." Al final de coleccionar los poemas tenia en mano treinta y cinco poemas. Al estudiarlos es posible, segûn mi opinion, dividir los poemas sin senso en sefardi en très grupos principales, segûn las siguientes caracterîsdcas: a) Poesia que mostra juegos de palabras y efectos musicales b) Poesia que présenta una situaciôn satîrica o parôdica c) Poesia que abandona los reglamientos sociales, rompiendo todo lo sacro. Agora analizaremos algunos poemas de los disdntos grupos y trataremos de estudiar otros detallos sobre la calidad de los poemas sin senso en la poesia popular sefardi.

Poesîa que mostra juegos de palabras y efectos musicales Una de las formulas básicas de los poemas sin senso es la mûsica y el juego de las palabras. Dentro las linias se topan onomatopeas, alteraciones y ritmos aiegros, como por ejemplo en la présente canciôn que no es más que un juego de palabras: Habia una vieja que pasô por la caleja le cayô la teja endriba de la ceja cumieron lenteja ella con la garteja y ansina se escapô la conseja. (Informante: Ester Habib, de Salonico).

Otro ejemplo con efectos musicales se expresa en este poema que lleva como imagen central a una mujer enferma de rina: la bien conocida del folclore sefardi, la dnosa. La una tenia color del güevo lo que le escuria lo echaban al churgiielo. Aide diia Una tú trábate pelo pelo pelo de gamello. La una tenia cajones cajones

por alli pasaban todos los ratoncs aide una Una... (Informante: Ida Levi, de Istambol)

Con estos muy curtos ejemplos podemos ver que el centro de discusiôn no es el contexto del poema, sino el concepto local que se expresa a través del juego musical y a través de la presentaciôn de una mujer (vieja o hacina) con una en el centro del texto. La combination de una mujer fea con palabras humoristicas y efectos musicales, todo esto mos da una buena presentaciôn de un texto de la poesia "nonsense."

Poesias que presentan una situaciôn satirica o parôdica De los ejemplos que presenti ariba podemos ver la básica humoristica que existe en estos poemas. También en otros poemas que conocen los informantes sefardies podemos encontrar poemas sin senso que tiencn un valor cômico, parôdico y satirico. Generalmente, al centro de estos poemas se topan gente que representan la antitesis de la imagen social asperada, como el enamorado que nunca lleva con él parás, el enamorado que se pierde en una bacina de agua, o la figura deshenada, la hija de la vecina ("La hija de la vecina osasà osasà | que se llama Carolina osasà osasà | en curiendo se cayô | la tripa se le enflô"). En veces, en el centro de estas poesias parecen imágenes de animales que se comportan como personas. Su buto es de mostrar cômo los animales pueden ser humanos y en contrario ("Si verás el gamello | asentado al tablero | haciendo buen fideo | mâs delgado de su cabello"). Los efectos cômicos y los fundamientos humoristicos no son raros en toda la poesia en lengua sefardi y conocemos muchisimas canciones que fueron publicadas en las páginas de la prensa humoristica sefardi que se publicaba en Salonico y en el Balcàn jidiô, y solo como ejemplo recordaremos la poesia de Sadic y Gasôs. Algunos ejemplos: 1.

Rahelica a la ventana el turquito ya paso la rojô la corelada al café se la llevô. Onde pasan las carozas hay una udá batal entre mozas y mancebos a bailar la pertocal. (Informante: Ester Habib, de Salonico)

2.

Mosôn tomi Mosôn deji Mosôn tengo en la mano yo a Mosôn lo vo a tomar de pies y de manos. A Mosôn a Mosôn que no naciera yo sos moy deshenado Mosôn te cayô el pantalon.

Kazim Pachá se desdeô de colas de caballo que va pasar el mi Mosôn con la braga en la mano. (Informante: Ester Habib, de Salonico)

E n examinando estos poemas se puede decir que sus buto es de dar legitimidad a la expresiôn de contextos que más vale de no expresarlos porque ulvidan los reglamientos sociales. Estos son poemas que liberan de los temores. Los poemas denen humor, que da alas a lo andconformista y mostra un pensamiento contra las normas conformistas asperadas por la sociedad, en especialmente la sociedad sefardi que es una sociedad naturalmente tradicional.

Poesia que abandona los reglamientos sociales, rompiendo todo lo sacro Segûn mi opinion, esto es el grupo más grande de poesias sin senso. El tema central es una persona presentada en forma negadva, como la suegra mala ("Mi suegra la negra"), la bulisa ("La bulisa zapateta | me rogô que se la meta"), o la mujer deshenada ("A Sara la prêta | que le cayô la teta"). En estas poesias existe el elemento musical (como encontramos en el primer grupo de poemas), y también la situaciôn satirica o parôdica (como encontramos en el segundo grupo). Ama mas que otra cosa, parece que sus buto es romper todo lo que es socialmente sacro y presentar una persona andconformista. Reírse de la suegra en una sociedad tradicional es un acto andconformista. Meter una mujer deshenada y confusionada en el centro de un poema es desbiblar todo lo que es sacro para el mundo jidiô. En estas candgas se presentan las personas en una manera extrema, y esto se convierte en el fundamento central de los poemas. Los poemas son especialmente picantes, considerando que en la mayoria de la poesia sefardi se trata de proveer convenciones sociales y también convenciones religiosas. Agora, en estos poemas sin senso, todas estas convenciones se rompen y sitûan a la sociedad sefardi bajo una luz secular. El mundo sefardi se présenta en una luz secular y vulgar. Otros ejemplos: 1.

Yo a mi suegra la amo y la adoro por verla enforcada en cuerno del toro. Yo a mi suegro lo amo bastante por verlo enforcado muy elegante. Ay ay ay me hace llorar la chica que tuvo que ya va pasar. (Informante: Ester Chazan, de Salonico)

2.

A Sara la prêta le cayô la teta buscô buscô y no la topo. Le dijo la vecina que bare la cucina que cumites pan y cascaval. Madmuasel Sarica que quiere carocica carocica jy de cauchuc! (Informante: Chaim Mordon, de Salonico)

Esta ultima cantiga mostra perfectamente los fundamentos del "nonsense" en la poesia popular sefardi. Primero, se debe prestar atenciôn a la mancura de una conexiôn argumentativa entre las disuntas secciones del poema, y al efecto especial (prêta que rima con teta). En este poema también se demuestran la mayoria de las caracterisdcas de este género, por ejemplo: a) Lôgica poéuca que es contra de las reglas del habla y el pensamiento de cada dia. b) Quitar y meter palabras de su contexto y su conexiôn, combinândolas en nuevo orden. c) Efecto cômico creado sin medios cômicos directos. d) El uso del lector como actor en el proceso de pronunciar cl texto. e) N o presentar los sentimientos. f) Tratar con términos y objectos concretos y evitar el uso de ideas simplificadas. g) Romper las normas sociales. Este poema y otros tantos mostran la capachitá de los sefardies de liberarse de todos los lazos con el pensamiento lôgico, saltear a las leyes morales y las leyes lôgicas, y violar las reglas de la realidad, disfrutando de la mancura de un senso lôgico.

Conclusion Los poemas sin senso obtuvieron un lugar central en la tradiciôn poéuca popular de la lengua sefardi, y el tema merece ser extensivamente investigado, encontrando en ellos otros puntos de vista, como el concepto musical o el concepto sociolôgico que lleva esta poesia. El hecho que estas canciones no fueron recopilados no significa que no existan; el hecho que los informantes no quijeron cantar estas canciones, o que no les dieran valor, tampoco mostra que estos poemas no exisueran. El objecuvo de la invesdgaciôn de la poesia popular en sefardi es encontrar los poemas sin senso, analizar si son poemas "liricos" clàsicos o si deben ser categorizados en un grupo genérico independiente, segûn lo que trau de presentar aqui.1

El autor quere rengraciar al Prof. Iacob M. Hassan del CSIC que ha fixado la ortografia del présente texto.

F u e n t e s r a b í n i c a s EN EL ME AM LO'EZ

ISAÍAS

ANA RIANO Universidad de Granada, Spain

Aunque el Me'am lo'e% Isaias (Salônica, 1892) es comentario que pertenece a la ultima etapa de la gran enciclopedia del saber sefardi tradicional y presenta una acusada simplification en relation con los esquemas seguidos en el Me'am lo'e% clàsico, no es nada desdenable comprobar cuáles fueron las fuentes rabinicas a las que recurriô y qué uso hizo de ellas su autor, el rabino salonicense Yišac Yehudá Abá, en su exégesis sobre el libro del profeta Isaias. Para responder a la primera cuesdôn, es decir, desvelar a qué obras y autores de la literatura rabinica acudiô Abá al elaborar su comentario, conviene decir antes que el Me'am 10Yeia'jà fue tipografiado con caractères rasies en la entonces conocida imprenta 'Es hahayim de Salônica por los libreros Mordejay Castro y Ya'acob Šemue1, encargados también de su distribution; que consta de doscientas ocho hojas numeradas, tamano 4° menor, y que contiene, además del comentario propiamente dicho a los sesenta y seis capitulos del libro de Isaias, moda'à (advertencia) y hacdamat hamehaber (introduction del autor), la cual ocupa trece páginas. La obra carece de indices. Iluminan la bûsqueda de fuentes los numerosos datos que nos ofrece el autor en su introduction, en donde se diferencian claramente dos pianos, siendo en el segundo en el que cita las principales obras a las que recurriô. Digamos algo más al respecto: El primero de los pianos cumple la funciôn de proporcionar al lector un resumen de la production literaria religiosa judia escrita en hebreo y de su investigaciôn desde Moisés hasta los escritores coetâneos del autor, y recoge datos acerca de la production en ladino, del Me'am lo'esu génesis y los autores que lo realizaron. Hay motivos para creer que, además de la intencionalidad didáctica propia de los autores del Me'am lo'e·.ζ, Abá pretendía que dicho resumen proporcionara al lector los conocimientos bàsicos necesarios para deducir una valoraciôn positiva de las fuentes que él dice haber utilizado, aunque éstas fueran un timido reflejo de la erudition de Juli y sus inmediatos seguidores. El otro piano nos situa, primero, ante la personalidad de Aba, lo que nos permite medir su formation rabinica. Se trata de un sencillo profesor de religion de escuela primaria que habia publicado también en Salônica cuatro anos antes, en 1888, coincidiendo editorial y libreros, otro comentario titulado Nebiim rilonim o Uhem Yehuda, en cuyas 256 hojas 8° mayor ofrece de forma condensada y breve, "en una habla corta me'en del Sefer bajašar‫( יי‬h. 8), las traducciones comentadas de Josué, Jueces, I y II de Samuel y I y II de Reyes. E n esta parte de la introduction a su Me'am lo'e% Isaias, siguiendo la costumbre de Juli, justifica sus

actividades exegédca y literaria, argumentando la considerable evolution que la sociedad de fines del siglo XIX habia experimentado como consecuencia de los avances técnicos y cientificos, los cuâles habian producido notables cambios en la forma de vida y en las costumbres de las gentes. Los hâbitos de estudio y seguimiento de la Tora se habian ido relajando hasta el extremo de que muy pocos judios tenian la posibilidad de comprender la lengua de la Biblia. Sobre este empobrecimiento espiritual reflexiona el autor y no duda en afirmar que el problema se agrava al ser el libro del profeta Isaias, tan abundante en alegorias e imágenes poéticas de dificil interpretaciôn, el objeto de estudio que se propuso. De ahi la necesidad que Abâ siente de especificar en su introducciôn las fuentes que le auxiliaron en la redacciôn de su comentario y de poner de manifiesto la importancia que las obras rabinicas y axegédcas de las que él nos dice que bebiô debian seguir teniendo en aquellos riempos de relajaciôn, por encima de la reinante moderna literatura a la occidental. Y asi dice en la h. 7b: D e estas pocas palabras se puede imaginar el meldador cuanta pena grande m o s fue a adobar la habla y hacerla a m o d o de c u e n t o c o m o que una persona le va c o n t a n d o , c o n t o d o ki en hahojmâ meiti. [porque la ciencia n o procédé de mi], otro que es acojida de_los estimados declaradores de la Ley: harisôn adam [el primer hombre], el se' Raš"y Rabenu S e l o m ô Yišaquí, Mhry"a M o r e n u harab Yishac Abravanel, Mesudot, Kl"j [Kelijacar] y el g a ô n Malby"m Meir L o e b ben Yehiel Michael, z"l [iyronô /iberajá\, que t o d o s e s t o s senores estuvieron en mi ayuda, y lo_que hice n o n es si n o n tresladar sus hablas de lasôn h a c o d e s [lengua santa, el hebreo] a ladino para que lo entiendan toda la gente y tengan aviso de la estima de muestra ley santa, s i e n d o t o d o el m u n d o se están u s a n d o a meldar historias que estân tresladando de francés, inglés a espanol, y n o n tien e n aviso de muestra ley santa. A esta razôn m e o c u p i a sonportar el trabajo de dita melajà [obra] y hacer las n o c h e s dias para escribir, en estando bien cansado el dia entero bimléjet šamáyim [por el trabajo religioso] c o n tšb"r \tinocot kl bet rabán, los a l u m n o s de una escuela primaria] que es fuerte laceria e n d e m á s en este dor [generation, riempo].

Es claro que Abâ siguiô muy de cerca a sus antecesores al intentar dar vida a la formula mágica de Juli consistente en "ensenar deleitando," y por eso dice "adobar la habla y hacerla a modo de cuento como que una persona le va contando." Y en parte lo logrô al allanar el lenguaje oscuro del profeta Isaias con explicaciones tomadas de fuentes rabinicas y de otra indole, que verdô al judeoespanol con claridad en un lenguaje directo y fâcilmente comprensible. Para conocer el grado de erudition de nuestro autor y vislumbrar qué importancia dio a la comentaristica rabinica en su obra conviene ofrecer, en primer lugar, una vision general de las diferentes fuentes que utilizô. Pero hay que advertir que Abâ numerosas veces no acudiô a las obras originales, sino a interme‫־‬ diarios que le facilitaron la labor, como veremos a continuation. Ofrece el comentario de Abâ 203 citas biblicas (79 de la Tora, 58 de Nebiim y 66 de Ketubim). A ellas hay que sumar unas doce extraida de los oracionales. De las pertenecientes a la literatura rabinica hay que anotar una del Targum Yonatän, tomada del comentario a Isaias de Malby"m, las de tratados misnaicos (Pirqué abot, en la moda'd) y talmùdicos (Berajot, Pesahim, Nedarim, Sota, Sanhédrin,

'Abodd %ará, Tamid) y algunas propias de los midrašim, como, por ejemplo, del Midräl Ejâ, también extraida del Isaias de Malby"m, las del Yakut o Pesicta y de los Pirqué Rabi Eli'é^er. Llama la atenciôn que Abá, al hablar en su bacdamâ de las principales fuentes que le asisderon en su exégesis, nombrara las Mesudot, comentarios de fines del XVII compuestos por David Altschuler y su hijo Yehiel Hillel, pues en ningun lugar del Me'am lo'eç Yeia'jâ los cita expresamente. Igual ocurre con Kelijacar. La historiografia está representada en el texto de Aba por el Sefer Yosef bin Goriôn y el Se'der hadorot, pero de nuevo nuestro autor no ha ido a las fuentes originales sino, en esta ocasiôn, al Me'am lo'e^Esterde Refael Pontremoli. A la poesia filosôfica de corte cabalisdco, como es el Ke'ter maljut de Ibn Gabirol, alude Abá en una ocasiôn, pero, como tantas veces, tomando la cita de la obra de Malby"m. Más abundantes son las referencias a tratadista, filôsofos y moralistas de todas las épocas: de la medieval, Maimônides, con su Misné Tora y su More nebujim, Se'adià Gaôn con su Tafsir y Raší y David Quimhi con sus respecdvos comentarios, y de los siglos X V - X V I , Yishac Abravanel y su Peruš, citas todas ellas présentes en la exégesis de Isaias del rabino polaco, al que Abá en estas ocasiones no nombra quizá porque, habiéndolo considerado en su introducciôn y en diferentes pasajes de la obra màximo comentarista de su dempo, nuestro autor estimô que ya era suficientemente conocido entre los lectores e innecesario, por tanto, mencionarlo a cada momento. Asi pues, son significadvas del profundo conocimiento que Abá tenia de la labor exegédca de su coetâneo Malby"m la frecuencia y oportunidad con que recurre a él. Lo cita veintiuna veces, con expresiones como: "el gaôn Malby"m, z"l, mos avisa," "aqui mos avisa el gaôn Malby"m, z"l," "y el gaôn Malby"m, z"l, mos dice," o bien con estas otras: "este pasuc [versiculo biblico (en hebreo)] lo declarô el gaôn Malby"m, z"l, que quiso decirmos," "el nimsal [significado] de dito pasuc quiso decirmos el gaôn Malby"m, z"l," "en estos pesuquim [pl. de pasuc\ venideros mos avisa el gaôn Malby"m, z"l, diciendo," "el contenido de todo lo dito mos avisa el gaôn Malby"m, z"l" y "el contenido de dita habla mos avisa el gaôn Malby"m, z"l." A éstas hay que sumar las más de doce veces, a las que me he referido en el pàrrafo anterior, en que se sirviô de él sin nombrarlo. Como acabamos de ver, la influencia que el rabino polaco Meir Loeb ben Yehiel Michael ejerciô en el Me'am lo'e% de Aba fue grande, por lo que es casi obligado decir algo sobre su obra. Escribiô una docena de libros muy célébrados, pero su fama y popularidad se basaron sobre todo en su exégesis de la Biblia. Su primer comentario fue al libro de Ester, que apareciô publicado en 1845. Le siguieron el de Isaias (1848-9) impreso por primera vez por el propio autor en Varsovia—ediciôn que he utilizado en este trabajo—el del Cantar de los Cantares y otros libros, publicados entre los anos 1867 y 1876. Estos trabajos de Malby"m estuvieron modvados por su oposiciôn a la Reforma, que minaba los más profundos fundamentos del judaismo ortodoxo. En cuanto a las obras de exégesis en ladino, Abá recurre en ocasiones, como hemos visto, al Me'am 10Ester de Refael Pontremoli (Esmirna, 1864), y, sobre todo, una veintena de veces, aunque citando de forma incompleta y con bas-

tante imprecision—quizà porque lo hacia de memoria—a su "chico libro" Léhem Yehuda mencionado mâs arriba. Por ûldmo, es indicativo de su afan por seguir la tradiciôn de sus predecesores y trasladar al judeoespanol cl resto de los profetas posteriores el hecho de que nombre en très ocasiones como obra de su prôxima cosecha el Me'am 10'e% Yirmeyâ con frases como: "segûn diremos, b'e"H [be'e^rat baŠem] 'con la ayuda de Dios' " (hs. 61b, 89) o "segûn lo diremos por su lugar, b'e"H" (h. 176b). Igual ocurre con los Ketubim en el caso de Daniel, del que dice textualmente: "segûn diremos, b'e"H, en Daniel, capitulo primero" (h. 18b). Pero no tenemos noticias de que ambos comentarios se publicasen. La conclusion mâs interesante a la que podemos llegar, tras este breve recorrido por las fuentes del Me'am lo'e^ Yela'yà, es que Yišhac Yehudá Abá se abasteciô abundantemente de la exégesis del rabino polaco Malby"m al elaborar su comentario, omidendo decir a los lectores en mâs de una ocasiôn la verdadera procedencia de sus citas. Sin embargo, este fiel seguimiento de la obra de su coetâneo no le privô de ser original en determinados pasajes de su comentario. Cabria preguntarse a qué se debiô la falta de precision con que nuestro autor compuso su Me'am lo'e%_ Yesa'yâ. Sin duda, los escasos estudios rabinicos de Yišhac Yehudá Abá, hombre perteneciente a esa nueva etapa de formaciôn intelectual del siglo XIX que estuvo marcada por la baskalä sefardi y por las escuelas de la Alianza Israelita Universal, y su deseo, como confesado admirador de Juli, Magriso y Argûeti, de formar parte de la lista de tan celebrados exegetas— dificil combination—le arrastraron a seguir de cerca, aunque no plenamente, el mecanismo de unos principios metodolôgicos que él debia deplorar: los de la literatura de entretenimiento, traducida de los originales de otros autores, poco elaborada y hecha, a veces, con precipitation. Pero digamos en su favor que, si bien su labor como comentarista deja bastante que desear, como traductor del libro de Isaias al judeoespanol y de las citas con que ilustra su obra reûne algunos méritos, como el de haber puesto al alcance de los lectores de aquella sociedad modernizada el mensaje de un profeta tan hondo y hermérico desde el punto de vista formai como es el de Isaias, a través de un lenguaje que va derecho al corazôn, con expresiones de tono coloquial ο familiar como: "tû, meldador, cale sepas," "sepas, mi querido" o "y si dirás ... te diré," en el que Dios, el profeta y el pueblo se relacionan entre si por medio del diâlogo, al esdlo de las escuelas rabinicas orientales. Para cumplir con la segunda parte de esta ponencia, es decir, dar cuenta de qué uso hizo el autor de las fuentes rabinicas, he establecido las siguientes categorias de tratamiento de las mismas, ordenadas de menor a mayor frecuencia con que aparecen: 1. La primera es cuando Abâ da la fuente. En este caso, nos la puede presentar de dos formas: a) con precision y sin mencionar la obra de Malby"m, de donde ha tomado la cita. Veamos un ejemplo, el que corresponde al comentario a Is 30, 1-3, en hoja 84b y en el comentario de Malby"m en la 108b. Dice asi:

Y esta cosa le desplaciô al Šj/"t [Šem jitbaraj, Dios, bendito sea (su nombre)] más que todas, que achaques [por causa de] que fueron a hacer la alianza con el mélej Mišráyim [rey de Egipto], se araigaron mucha gente en la civdad— quisendo decir que mucho pueblo se restaron en Mišráyim y se hicieron moradores de Aifto; en ésta pasaron la encomendanza de la ley que mos acavidô a que non tornemos a Mišráyim, segûn déclaré H r m b " m [Rabenu Mosé bar Maimôn] en Halajot melajim, pérec hamiSi [capitulo 5‫ף‬. b) Sin tanta precision, y t a m b i é n sin m e n c i o n a r el c o m e n t a r i o d e M a l b y " m , q u e , c o m o e n el c a s o anterior, es de d o n d e la ha t o m a d o . P o r e j e m p l o , c u a n d o n u e s t r o a u t o r , en 144b ( M a l b y " m 177a), c o m e n t a Is 49, 12 diciendo: El Targum Yonatân mos avisa que la palabra sinim [cananeo] quere decir darom [sur], que los sinim moran ahi, y sinim son los hijos de Kenâ'an [CanAbán]. Rd"q [Rahi David Quimhí]. 2. La s e g u n d a categoria c o r r e s p o n d e a c u a n d o A b â n o dice la f u e n t e ni p a r e c e haberla e x t r a i d o d e M a l b y " m , p e r o la i n t r o d u c e c o n frases c o m o "y m o s avišan m u e s t r o s sefiores hz"l [hajamenn yijronam liberajâ, n u e s t r o s sabios, b e n d i t a sea su m e m o r i a , " "y d i j e r o n h z " l , " " s e g û n d i j e r o n hz"l," "y e s t o es lo q u e d i j e r o n h z " l , " " s e g û n d i j e r o n m u e s t r o s s a b i o s , " o bien c o n "y ya es s a b i d o , " q u e a l u d e n a f u e n t e s talmûdicas. V e a m o s u n e j e m p l o . E n la e x p l i c a t i o n a Is 10, 13, versiculo r e f e r e n t e a la arrogancia d e S e n a q u e r i b y a su politica d e d e p o r t a c i o n e s (hs. 35b— 36), dice e n u n largo m o n ô l o g o el rey asirio: ... Después de esto, me re£i con otra idea más mejor, y es a los moradores que moraban en sus deras mizemán cadmôn [desde tiempo antiguo] y non merecían pena, con mi fuerza bastante los hice abajar de sus estado que tenian y los cativi a otras tieras, y mandi a otra gente de lugares leos en sus lugar—y esto es lo que dijeron hz"l: Ba Sanherib ubilbel et ha'olam [Vino Senaquerib y confundiô al mundo. Guemará Berajot 28a], que desteraba pueblos de una civdad y los mandaba a otras civdades. Y todo esto era para que non tengan fuerza después de muchos anos a decir: "Esta tiera es muestra." 3. Y la tercera c o r r e s p o n d e a c u a n d o n o dice la f u e n t e , sin m á s , c o m o o c u r r e e n 8 9 b al c o m e n t a r c o n u n m i d r á š hagàdico, q u e n o r e c o g e M a l b y " m , Is 31,1—3, c u a n d o el p r o f e t a c o n d e n a la actitud d e aquellos q u e b u s c a r o n la ayuda d e los egipcios para librarse d e S e n a q u e r i b y a la vez ensalza la misericordia q u e m u e s tra D i o s hacia su p u e b l o , " q u e trae el mal c o n p i a d a d . " D i c e asi: Y esto asemeja a un rey que comandô a todo su pueblo que el que pasa sobre tala guezerâ [decision, sentencia] debe ser matado; y es con echarle una piedra grande de tantos quintales sobre él, que con esta piedra sea matado. En aqueos dias el hijo del rey pasô dita guezerâ y fue obligado que debe ser matado con echarle esta piedra. Los consejeros del rey buscaron a escaparlo. ,‫׳‬Qué hicieron? A que deshagan aquea piedra en pedazos chicos y se la echen sobre él. Estonces se afirma la guezerâ del mélej que se le echo la piedra sobre él y el hij o que sea escapado. Lo esteso el Dio baruj [bendito] les trujo el mal sobre su pueblo Yisrael [Israel] como el mélej de la piedra, y su palabra non se le tirô atrás, que se le afirmô la guezerâ que se afirmô en todos los dos: una parte del mélej trujo sobre Yisrael y otra parte sobre los Misráyim.

Bibliografia Hassán, I. M. 1978. "Transcription normalizada de textos judeoespanoles." Estudios Sefardíes 1,147-150. Riano Lopez, A. M* 1987. Me'am lo'e% Yeia'jd. Transcription, estudio e indices (2 vols.). Granada: Universidad. , 1988-89. "Una traducciôn de la haqdamat ha-mehabber del Me'am lo'eζ Yeûa'yah." ΜΕΛΗ 37-38, 75-90. Romero, Ε. 1992. La creaciôn literaria en lengua sefardi. Madrid: Mapfre.

ESPANOLES FILOSEFARDIES Y PRIMEROS FALANGISTAS BERND ROTHER Moses Mendelssohn Zentrum, Potsdam, Germany

Como estamos en Toledo quiero empezar con una pequena historia, inventada por un autor espanol del siglo XX. En esta historia, el protagonista muestra a su madre los monumentos histôricos de Toledo. Se paran en frente de la iglesia "Santa Maria la Bianca," y José, el protagonista, explica que antes ésta era una sinagoga. Continua José: "Judios, moros y cristianos, aqui [en Toledo] estuvieron y al contacto con Espana se purificaron. [...] Registra la historia de la Iglesia que cuando los fariseos decidieron la muerte de Jesus cscribieron a las sinagogas mâs importantes pidiendo su asentimiento; los judios espanoles no solo lo negaron, sino que protestaron, y, muerto Jesus, enviaron, los de Toledo, embajadores para que viniese Santiago a predicar el Evangelio." La Madre de José duda: "cQuién ha forjado tan bonita historia?" Pero José contesta: "Libros de sapientísimos varones la recogen de la historia de Destro; dicen que en Toledo se guardaban los viejos documentos que asi lo acreditaban, perdidos luego en los tiempos turbulentos de nuestra historia." La Madre no se queda convencida pero admite: " N o sé si será asi; pero es muy bella." (Andrade 1942: 71) Puede haber alguien entre los asistentes que conozca al autor de esta historia en la que se vislumbra un sentimiento pro-sefardi. El autor es nada menos que Francisco Franco y Bahamonde. El pàrrafo citado forma parte del guiôn para la pelicula "La Raza" y fue publicado en 1942 bajo el seudônimo de Jaime de Andrade. En mi conferencia quiero explicar este hecho sorprendente que contrasta con lo que hasta ahora se ha repetido en publicaciones recientes: que la derecha espanola de los anos treinta era antisemita. Para probarlo, en 1997 Jacobo Israel Garzôn ha reunido citas provenientes de periôdicos conservadores y de publicistas falangistas. Todas esas notas denen sin duda un carácter antisemita. Dice Israel Garzôn: "Los estereodpos andsemitas fueron ampliamente utilizados por los pensadores y escritores de la época simpatizantes con el fascismo." (Garzôn 1997: 26). Entre la docena de autores presentados por él figuran Agustin de Foxà y Ernesto Giménez Caballero. N o causa ninguna sorpresa encontrar declaraciones andsemitas de Giménez Caballero, que fue uno de los mâs destacados intelectuales falangistas y de Foxà, que fue amigo de José Antonio Primo de Rivera y co-autor de "Cara al Sol," el himno de la Falange. Pero surgen dudas, ο mejor incongruencias. Por ejemplo hay un ardculo de Giménez Caballero del otono de 1931 en el cual describe una visita a la pequena e improvisada sinagoga madrilena, "acompanando a dos de mis sefardies," ο sea con dos amigos sefardies (El Robinson 1931: 11). Aqui no

encontramos antisemitismo sino al contrario una frase como esta: "Acababa de gozar el judaismo." Experiencias parecidas hay con Agusdn de Foxà, diplomâtico de profesiôn. En la introducciôn a su informe sobre un viaje por las comunidades sefardies de los Balcanes en el ano 1932 podemos leer: Un informe debiera ser [....] una exposition fria y desapasionada, pero hay temas que por su profunda emotion humana rebasan el fn'o lenguaje de la administration. [...] Los que hemos escuchado la voz arcaica de Castilla guardada como un tesoro, quienes hemos sorprendido en los ojos de los sefarditas el velo de la nostalgia por las derras abandonadas, podemos decir, es mâs tenemos la obligation de afirmar, que los sefarditas de los Balkanes sienten por Espana un amor encendido y auténuco. 1

Esto no es andsemidsmo sino una acdtud francamente pro-sefardi. ,;Cômo explicar estas contradicciones? Hay que mirar atrás, a los origenes del movimiento filosefardi en Espana. Cien anos después de los acontecimientos de 1898, que conmovieron tanto al pais, no es una referencia barata al centenario si indicamos que también este movimiento, iniciado por Angel Pulido, formaba parte del "regencracionismo." Los contactos con los sefardies que Pulido—un escritor y politico liberal-conservador—entablô en su viaje por los países del Danubio en 1903 le impresionaron tanto que inmediatamente después de su regreso iniciô una campafia a favor de Iazos econômicos y culturales entre Espana y los sefardies. Lo que era nuevo en esta campafia era el intento de crear en el pais una conciencia sobre la necesidad de ocuparse de estos "Espafioles sin patria," como Pulido les definia (Rother 1995). Lo que muchas veces se describe como logro principal del movimiento prosefardi es el decreto-ley del afio 1924 sobre la nacionalidad espafiola. El contenido de dicho decreto-ley fue exagerado ya por algunos contemporâneos y todavia mâs por otros autores posteriores, pretendiendo que se ofrecia la nacionalidad espafiola a todos los sefardies. 2 Pero el texto del decreto-ley muestra que esto solo beneficiô a un grupo restringido de sefardies, todos antiguos protegidos espanoles, en total cerca de 5000 personas. Además cuando se intentô llevar el decreto-ley a la practica los ministerios del Interior y de Asuntos Exteriores pusieron tantos obstâculos burocrâticos que muchos de los beneficiarios no conseguirian la nacionalidad hasta finales de 1930, cuando expiraba esta posibilidad. Pulido tuvo resonancia entre algunos intelectuales. Primero hay que mencionar a Manuel Ortega, periodista y escritor, cspecializado en asuntos de Marruecos. El expresô en un libro sus simpadas por los judios de origen espafiol en Marruecos (Ortega 1994). Para la segunda ediciôn del libro, el general monârquico, Francisco Gômez Jordana, conde de Jordana, mâs tarde ministro de Asuntos Exteriores de Franco, y para la tercera y cuarta ediciôn, el también mo-

Archivo del Ministerio de Asuntos Exteriores (AMAE). Madrid, R 698/1: A. de Foxâ, Los Sefarditas de los Balkanes. Informe al Exce/entisimo Senor Ministro de Estado. Madrid, 18 de Octubre, 1932. La fuente de todas estas informaciones errôneas es: American Jewish Year Book 27, 1925/26, 7 6 77.

nàrquico Pedro Sàinz-Rodriguez, en 1938/39 ministro de Educaciôn Nacional del gobierno de Burgos, escribían sendos prôlogos al libro de Ortega. La actividad más importante de Ortega en el contexto del movimiento pro-sefardi es la "Revista de la Raza." La revista fue apoyada econômicamente por el banquero Ignacio Bauer, miembro destacado de la Comunidad Judia de Madrid. La secciôn "Mundo Sefardi" solia ocupar un tercio de la revista, que fue publicada entre 1915 y 1935. E n esta secciôn no solamente escribian autores espanoles sino también sefardies del Levante. Isaac Guershon la describiô como ôrgano del filosefardismo espanol (Guershon 1994: 58-61). Si seguimos pasando revista a las filas de los fomentadores intelectuales del filosefardismo, tropezamos con el ya mencionado Ernesto Giménez Caballero. En su primera obra, "Notas marruecas de un soldado" del ano 1923, relato sus contactos con los sefardies. Anotô romances, que habia oido en Marruecos, y se los mandô a Menéndez Pidal y Américo Castro, sus antiguos maestros. Escribia ardculos prosefardies en "La Gaceta Literaria," y publicaba también otros de autores sefardies (Tandy 1977: 50). En este tipo de filosefardismo se reflejaba el desprecio que muchos sefardies sentian hacia los askenazies. Por ejemplo, en 1930 encontramos entre las "Notas sefardies" una information sobre la fundaciôn de la "Union Central de los Sefardies de Pans." En ésta se esperaba que la nueva asociaciôn liberara a los "espanoles de fe judia" en Erancia de la autoridad del Consistorio Israelita que actuaba "arbitraria casi siempre." El Consistorio es "extrano al espiritu de nuestro hebraismo" (Gaceta Literaria, 15 de enero de 1930: 2). Gracias a la propuesta de Menéndez Pidal, en 1929 la "Junta de Relaciones Culturales" mandô a Giménez Caballero a un ciclo de conferencias en los centros sefardies de los Balcanes. Alli hablô sobre la cultura espanola, proyecto peliculas y puso discos espanoles; al mismo tiempo estudio la cultura sefardita. En su informe abogô por una vasta acciôn cultural de Espana en esta region. Pero solamente se llegô a subvencionar la ensenanza del espanol en Bucarest, Sofia y Salônica. En 1930 en la celebration de la exposition del libro espanol en Bucarest, Giménez Caballero repitiô el viaje y encontrô la situaciôn sin cambios (Tandy 1977: 50). Hablemos ahora de Agustin de Foxâ. Igual que Giménez Caballero perteneciô al grupo de los filosefardistas culturales. Como ya he mencionado, en 1932 por orden del Ministerio de Asuntos Exteriores hizo un viaje por las comunidades sefardies de los Balcanes. Su informe dene cuarenta páginas. Sus recomendaciones mâs importantes fueron la creation de escuelas espanolas para salvar el judeo-espanol asi como la naturalization de los sefardies que anteriormente habian sido antiguos protegidos espanoles. Foxâ lamentô que en realidad no quedara mucho del amor de los sefardies por Espana que Pulido habia descrito. "Los judios espanoles [...] se interesan poco por las cosas de Espana porque esta nation no goza de casi ningûn prestigio en el proximo Oriente [...]. Por eso los judios prefieren ser italianos, franceses o de otra nacionalidad." 3 3

AMAE, Madrid, R 698/1: Agusnn de Foxâ, Los Sefarditas de tos Batkanes. Informe al Excelcntisimo SenorMinistro de Estado. Madrid, 18 de Octubre, 1932.

Sus propuestas de cômo tratar la competencia ideolôgica del sionismo muestran la gran importancia que tuvo la intensification de las relaciones con los sefardies para Foxà y Giménez Caballero. Foxà propuso un compromiso. Espana deberia restringirse a la difusiôn de la lengua y cultura además de aceptar expresamente la difusiôn del hebreo. Segûn él habria que concienciar a los sionistas de que la lengua espanola podria ser cl ûnico idioma capaz de impedir que los sefardies fueran asimilados totalmente por la cultura de los paises balcânicos. Foxà citaba a Giménez Caballero: "El sefardismo es en rigor para los judios espanoles un sionismo de segundo grado; los espanoles no somos anrisionistas, sino que hemos venido a completar el sionismo." 4 Sus reflexiones tácdcas culminaban en la idea de pracdcar en la Sociedad de Naciones una polidca pro-Palestina para halagar a los sionistas. Ahora hablemos de dos monârquicos que también abogaron por contactos con las comunidades sefardies, aunque no con tanto ahinco como los falangistas Foxà y Giménez Caballero. José Antonio Sangrôniz, con quien empezamos, se convirdô mâs tarde en uno de los diplomâticos más importantes del régimen de Franco. En 1926 publico el libro "La expansion cultural de Espana." Segûn él era necesario para la regeneration de Espana mejorar las relaciones con los sefardies, quienes entre los judios eran considerados como una verdadera aristocracia. Con este fin propuso crear escuelas espanolas en los centras sefardies y enviar docentes espanoles a las universidades de los Balcanes, además de promover la prensa sefardita (Sangrôniz 1926: 65—82). José Maria Doussinague, el otro monârquico que presentamos aqui, redactô, en marzo de 1930, un informe dtulado "Sefardidsmo Econômico." En este momento, Doussinague era agregado comercial en la Embajada en Berlin. Durante la Segunda Guerra Mundial ascendiô a Director-General de Politica Exterior del Ministerio de Asuntos Exteriores en Madrid; en su tiempo libre escribiô algunos libros sobre Fernando II. Antes de redactar su informe habia visitado los paises balcânicos. En una carta al Ministro de Economia Nacional que acompanaba al informe escribia que para Espana el sefarditismo solamente era interesante en el terreno comercial y que todas las vagas declaraciones espanolas de los ûltimos anos no habian suscitado ningûn interés por parte de los sefardies. 5 El detallaba su position en dicho informe. En la introduction recalcaba la clara diferencia existente entre los sefardies y los judios restantes: "Constituyen éstos un pueblo intermedio, racialmente, entre el israelita puro y el castellano." Durante su larga estancia en Espana, afinaron, segûn Doussinague, su fisonomia y su moral. Pero: "Apenas se puede hablar de hispanismo entre los sefardies si no reduciéndolo a un nûmero muy limitado de individuos [...]." Con esto contradecia a autores como Pulido o Giménez Caballero. Para Espana los sefardies eran interesantes solamente bajo el punto de vista econômico porque contrôlaban el comercio en los Balcanes. Para motivar a los sefardies a una cooperation

4 5

Ibid. A M A E R 698/1: El Agente Comercial en Europa, |. M. Doussinague, Sefarditismo Econômico. Berlin, 19 de Marzo de 1930.

con Espana, Doussinague proponia facilitar la naturalization a ricos sefardies y la creation de cámaras de comercio y escuelas espanolas en los centros sefardies. Vamos a resumir. Hemos conocido a las siguientes personas como protagonistas de un acercamiento de Espana a los sefardies: Angel Pulido, posibilista o sea republicano que aceptô la monarquia, los monârquicos Sangrôniz y Doussinague, Jordana y Sàinz-Rodriguez, los falangistas Giménez Caballero y Foxâ. Parece que la izquierda no participaba en el movimiento pro-sefardi. <;Cômo se puede explicar esta situaciôn que sorprende mucho desde un punto de vista alemân? Primero hay que olvidar la experiencia alemana de que el fascismo es inseparable del andsemirismo. El fascismo italiano demuestra que no es necesaria esta asociaciôn. En la extrema derecha espanola habia andsemidsmo, claro, pero este tema no tenia mucha importancia. Lo que todos los fascismos denen en comûn son el andmarxismo, el antiliberalismo y un nacionalismo agresivo. Por cierto, estos très componentes muchas veces llevan consigo una polidca andjudia, pero fuera de Alemania ésta no alcanzô mâs que una importancia secundaria y no transciende al andsemiusmo u'pico también para movimientos conservadores. El andsemiusmo agresivo como pilar central de la ideologia es una peculiaridad del nacional-socialismo alemân. Además, el caso de Espana demuestra que filosefardismo y andsemiusmo no se excluyen en principio, aunque hoy esta afirmaciôn parece carecer de senddo. El andsemiusmo de Doussinague, por ejemplo, se dirigia contra "los judios," mientras que para él los sefardies eran un grupo aparte. A los judios los describia como feos, avaros, explotadores de los crisdanos, etc. Los sefardies, al contrario, cran, segûn Doussinague, refinados por el contacto con Espana, pero, de todas maneras, eran judios. Por eso, en el informe de Doussinague habia también prejuicios andjudios dirigidos contra sefardies, pero en este caso eran menos explicitos. Por ejemplo, rechazaba la inmigraciôn de sefardies a Espana, que algunos proponian con el fin de estimular la economia espanola, con el argumento de que los paises en que vivian los sefardies (los Balcanes, Turquia) tenian un gran atraso econômico. Detrás de este argumento se escondia el prejuicio del judio que explota a los crisdanos. Franco fue todavia mâs ambivalente, pero al mismo dempo menos explicito. Por un lado tenia una buena idea de los judios que vivieron en Espana hasta 1492, pero la cita del guiôn para "La Raza" muestra que tenia esta simpada porque pensaba que habian sido "purificados" por la influencia espanola y asi habian perdido los atributos negadvos de los judios. Con otras palabras: para Franco los judios en si eran malos pero la cultura espanola era tan dominante y tan buena que habia podido "purificar" incluso a éstos. Por eso Franco no tenia una idea posidva de los judios contemporâneos ni de los sefardies; sus simpadas se restringían a los judios de antes de 1492. La diferencia entre estas ideas de Franco y el andsemiusmo de los Nazis es que los ûldmos creyeron en lo irreversiblemente malo de todos los judios mientras Franco les concediô la capacidad de ser "mejorados" por una cultura superior. Giménez Caballero y Foxâ tenian menos recelos en su simpau'a hacia los sefardies. Para ellos parece que no tenia importancia ninguna que los sefardies fueran judios. Se interesaban por los sefardies como parte de la cultura espanola

y los interpretaban no en el contexto de la historia judia sino en el de la historia espanola. Lo primero era que los sefardies eran espanoles. Claro que de aqui surgiô el problema de que el mundo sefardi se consdtuyô como efecto del decreto de expulsion de los Reyes Catôlicos. Y nacionalistas como Giménez Caballero y Foxà invocaban también a Fernando e Isabel. E n 1931 Foxà tratô este problema de manera insôlita en la "Gaceta Literaria." E n el mes de julio publico un ensayo sobre un encuentro imaginario entre Giménez Caballero y Fernando e Isabel. En este encuentro se reprochaba a Giménez CabaUero minimizar uno de los éxitos mâs importantes de los Reyes Catôlicos. Foxà puso esta respuesta en la boca de su amigo: que él no hacia mâs que completar la Reconquista porque los sefardies eran la ultima provincia irredenta (Foard 1975: 115-116). Foxà sabia que de esta forma solo estaba reflejando las ideas de su amigo, pues en 1929, de regreso de su viaje por los centros sefardies, habia hablado de una "provincia espiritual de mâs de un millôn de almas" que tenia que reintegrar (Marquina/Ospina 1987: 53). Cuando se trataba de sefardies, para ellos las ideas andsemitas no tenian ninguna importancia. En su esfuerzo de reconstruir la grandeza de Espana, hacian cabriolas intelectuales. Pero no es tan importante descubrir estas contradicciones sino saber por qué no se preocupaban intelectuales como Giménez Caballero o Foxà de las obvias contradicciones en su argumentation. Es todavia mâs urgente el aclararlo si tenemos en cuenta que las declaraciones prosefardies de los dos vienen ya de su tiempo falangista. Con su acercamiento al fascismo no dejaron de admirar a los sefardies. Giménez Caballero y Foxà no permiten una interpretation fâcil en el sentido de distinguir un periodo "bueno" pre-fascista y pro-sefardi y otro periodo fascista, antisemita, como insinua el antes citado Jacobo Israel Garzôn. La argumentation de Foxà y Giménez Caballero recuerda la position de los nacionalistas espanoles frente a los vascos, como la describe Jon Juaristi: según él para los nacionalistas el pueblo vasco representaba a la Espana eterna y arcaica, el ûnico vestigio de la Espana pre-histôrica (Fox 1997: 95-96). Claro está, que los sefardies no representaban la Espana pre-histôrica sino la medieval. Y también representaban el amor eterno por Espana, lo que mostraba la supremacia de la cultura espanola. Lo mismo que por ejemplo "El Cid," también los sefardies representaban la mitica época de la grandeza espanola. Por eso, las criticas que Doussinague pronunciô en su "Sefarditismo Econômico" en contra del filosefardismo cultural no llegaban a la raiz de la ideologia de este movimiento, solo se quedaban en aspectos secundarios ο superficiales. Para Giménez CabaUero y Foxà, y también para Pulido, lo mâs importante era la grandeza cultural de Espana, no la grandeza economica. ^Y por qué fueron estos nacionalistas, y no intelectuales de la izquierda, los que mostraron tanto interés por los sefardies? Pues, si se acepta la imagen de los sefardies que acabamos de describir, no queda otra conclusion que la cultura espanola era superior a otras civilizaciones y que por el contacto con Espana incluso los judios se podian refinar, y que pese a todo la expulsion de 1492 no habia sido un acontecimiento tan grave puesto que no habia conseguido que los sefardies perdieran su admiration por Espana. Me parece que esto puede expli-

car, por lo menos parcialmente, la ausencia casi total de la izquierda espanola en el movimiento prosefardi. Résulta que el filosefardismo de la derecha espanola en el primer tercio del siglo XX no tenia casi nada que ver con los sefardies existentes y mucho menos aún con el resto de los judios contemporâneos. Era una autoafirmaciôn de la superioridad cultural de Espana en la que los sefardies eran puros objetos pero no participantes en un diâlogo entre diferentes culturas.

Bibliografia: Andrade, J. [i.e. Franco Bahamonde, F.] 1942.

Anecdotariopara elguiôn de unapelicula.

Madrid. El Robinson [i.e. Giménez Caballero, Ε.] 1931. "Judaismo, Catolicismo, Laicismo." Ga-

ceta Literaria, 1° de octubre de 1931, 11. Foard, D. W. 1975. Ernesto Giménez Caballero 0 la revolution del poeta. Estudio sobre e! nacionalismo cultural hispânico en el siglo XX. Madrid. Guershon, I. 1994. "La Revista de la Raza. Organo del Filosefardismo Espanol." Raices 20, 58-61.

Fox, I. 1997. La Invention de Espana. Madrid. Israel Garzôn, J. 1997. "Racismo antisemita en la literatura espanola 1931-1945." Raices 31,26-31.

Marquina, A. y Ospina, G. 1987. Espanay losjudios en el siglo XX. La action exterior. Madrid. Ortega Pichardo, M. 1994. Los hebreos en Marruecos. Mâlaga. Rother, Β. 1995. "Angel Pulido und die Wiederentdeckung der Sephardim durch Spa-

nien." Tranvia. Revue der Iberischen Halbinsel 39, 47-52. Rother, B. 1998. "Franco und die deutsche Judenverfolgung." Vierteljahrshefte für Zeitges-

chicbte 46 (2), 189-220. Sangrôniz, J. A. 1926. La expansion cultural de Espana en el extranjeroy principalmente en Hispano-América. Nuevas orientaciones para la politica international de Espana. Madrid. Tandy, L. 1977. "Ernesto Giménez Caballero y 'La Gaceta Literaria'." En Tandy, L. y

Sferrazza, M. Ernesto Giménez Caballero y "La Gaceta Literaria" (0 La Generation de! 27). Madrid, 7-72.

F U N C I Ô N Y POÉTICA DEL ROMANCERO BIBLICO SEFARDI MESSOD SALAMA Memorial University of Newfoundland, Canada

E n su apretada sintesis sobre la cultura y diàspora sefardies, obra que no recibiô la debida acogida que merecia, Ma'ir José Benardete, que se habia ya ocupado del romancero sefardi en los anos 20, escribiô lo siguiente: ,;Es justo afirmar que las canciones de los judios espanoles tienen un interés puramente hispânico? El que hayan seguido siendo cantadas durante mâs de cuatro siglos lejos de la madre patria permite suponer que, en un momento dado, asumieron una funciôn propia en las pequenas teocracias mediterráneas de los desterrados de 1492. (Benardete 1963: 12)

Esta pregunta, lejos de ser meramente retôrica, planteaba una nueva orientaciôn que no fue atendida por los invesrigadores del romancero sefardi e indirectamente indicaba una alternativa a los estudios textuales o de las fuentes que imperaban en esa época. El riesgo de asistir a la desapariciôn de todo un patrimonio oral indujo a los estudiosos a dedicar todos los esfuerzos, casi exclusivamente, a encuestas de campo, a la sistemática caza de textos raros y a la compilaciôn de versiones. Factores vitales que trataban de explicar la originalidad, el sincretismo, la creatividad y la razones de supervivencia del romancero sefardi quedaron desatendidos. Las razones aludidas en torno a la vitalidad y a la preservaciôn del romancero eran insuficientes y a veces impresionistas. Era necesario investigar estos factores en el àmbito mismo de la sociedad sefardi y en el papel importante que tenian estos romances en el ciclo de la vida sefardi y no en el desgarro de un lejano y traumârico exilio, tantas veces mencionado por los primeros invesrigadores hispanistas y sefardies. La nostalgia por si misma no logra abarcar la complejidad de la cuesdôn planteada anteriormente por el mismo Benardete. Quizás el grupo de romances que por su homogeneidad y fuentes comunes, se preste mejor a este ripo de anâlisis funcional séria el romancero biblico sefardi. Estos romances están basados en una serie de episodios biblicos, algunos considerados de gran importancia, como el inagotable tema del sacrificio de Isaac, (Ge 22,1—19) el mirico episodio del juicio del rey Salomon (IRe 3,15—28), ο del paso del Mar Rojo (Ex 14,22-31). Otros menos conocidos como el rapto de Dina (Ge 34,1-31), o el de Amnon y Tamar (2Sa 13), consdtuyen pericopas silenciadas ο censuradas por los exegetas biblicos pero obviamente esdmadas, reapropiadas e reinterpretadas por generaciones de recitadoras sefardies. La tradiciôn romancisrica moderna sefardi muestra una gran diferencia con la tradiciôn contemporânea peninsular en torno al contenido, temádca, numéro de textos y versiones de estas canciones. Menéndez y Pelayo habia ya indicado una

canddad S0φrendente de romances biblicos en la tradiciôn antigua peninsular de los cancioneros, silvas o pliegos sueltos (Menéndez y Pelayo 1928: 14). Muy pocos de estos romances, sin embargo, sobrevivieron en la Espana del siglo XX. Solamente dos de ellos siguen siendo cantados por los espanoles. Existen versiones del "Sacrificio de Isaac" y de "Amnôn y Tamar." Del primero hay unos textos de Castilla, Leôn y Santander. En cambio el romance de Amnôn y Tamar era tan popular en la peninsula que el mismo Menéndez y Pelayo consideraba su abundancia estéril, mientras que Menéndez Pidal lo recogia con cierto fasddio. El resto de los romances biblicos sefardies como "La consagraciôn de Moisés," "El paso del Mar Rojo," "La muerte de Absalôn," y "El juicio de Salom o n " no son conocidos en la tradiciôn moderna en Espana. N o por eso dejan de ser de origen espanol y no son necesariamente de autoria sefardi como se creyô al principio (Alvar 1971). En efecto aunque en los estudios preliminares sobre estos mismos romances se los consideraban post-exilicos y de autoria judia, la publication de los varios cancioneros, silvas y pliegos sueltos y la extraordinaria tarea de desmarafiamiento por parte de A. Rodriguez-Monino muestran que un gran numéro de los romances biblicos cantados por los sefardies provienen de fuentes impresas peninsulares del siglo XVI (RodriguezMonino 1970). Un anâlisis initial del romancero biblico peninsular de los siglos XVI y XVII muestra una gran canddad de textos basados en el Anuguo Testamento. La Primera Silva de varios romances de Esteban de Nájera, (Zaragoza 1550), La Segunda parte de la Silva de varios romances del mismo editor, El canàonero de romances (de Mardn Nucio, Amberes 1550) y los Romances nuevamente sacados, de bistorias antiguas de Lorenzo de Sepûlveda incluyen una variedad de estos romances. Dos de los pliegos sueltos que condenen el mayor numéro de romances biblicos fueron censurados. El pliego "Aqui comienza cinco romances, los dos del rey David" apareciô en el Index et Catalogus Librorum prohibitorum del Inquisidor General Gaspar Quiroga (Madrid, 1555; Rodriguez-Monino 1979: 94), mientras que el pliego suelto que lleva el dtulo "Romances sacados al pie de la letra del Evangelio" que condene el romance del "juizio de Salomon, sobre las dos mujeres que pedian al nino" se encuentra en el indice inquisitorial de Valdés (Valladolid, 1559; Rodriguez-Monino 1969: 126). Similarmente Esteban de Nájera en su réédition de La segunda parte de la Silva (Zaragoza, 1552) eliminô de un golpe todos los romances biblicos présentés en su primera ediciôn de 1550. Rodriguez-Monino atribuye esta omisiôn a la ausencia de popularidad de este dpo de romances (Rodriguez Monino 1970: 139). Quizás será necesario ahondar mâs esta problemâdca y relacionarla con el temor de las autoridades eclesiâsdcas espanolas de vulgarizar el Antiguo Testamento. Los romances biblicos en la diàspora sefardi presentan un cuadro muy diferente del de la peninsula. Las abundantes colecciones de Menéndez Pidal, Abraham Danôn (1896), Larrea Palatin (1954), M. Alvar (1971), M. Atdas (1961), y J. Martinez Ruiz (1963) entre otros, muestran una canddad asombrosa de textos y versiones. A esta variedad de textos habria que anadir los romances o fragmento de cantares sobre "Samson y DaWa," el de "La venta de José" y del "Nacimiento y muerte de Moisés" que segûn Benoliel se cantaban en Marruecos. El

mismo Benoliel habia observado que "los romances de origen biblico son tan populäres como los otros" en Marruecos y en el caso del romance de "Amnôn y Tamar" indicaba que "es tan conocido en Marruecos que hasta las moritas lo cantan." (Menéndez Pidal 1972: 189) La mayoria de los romances biblicos fueron sacralizados y fueron sometidos a un proceso de ritualizaciôn y rejudaizaciôn que aseguraron su vitalidad supervivencia y popularidad en la diàspora sefardi. En un piano musical los varios estudios de los incipit y de la contrafacta muestra ya una sacralization del romancero. En el piano lingûisdco la ritualizaciôn de los romances biblicos es profunda y se lleva a cabo por medio de la incorporaciôn de varios vocablos que pertenecen al campo semândco de la religion. El profesor Cantera Burgos habia observado que los romances biblicos contenian el mayor numéro de hebraismos ο voces hebreas (1954). En este caso la presencia de estas voces no es una mera cuesdôn cuandtadva. La incidencia de vocablos litûrgicos muestra un cierto conocimiento y familiaridad con la lengua hebraica, al mismo tiempo que vincula a las recitadoras de estos romances con un mundo espiritual y con el de la tradiciôn religiosa. Igualmente el colofôn de Odu Lasbem Ki Tob ki Leolam Hasdo (Load a Dios que es bueno porque su misericordia es eterna) que aparece en un sinnumero de versiones de romances biblicos no es una simple formula conclusiva migratoria, sino un broche que une estos romances biblicos a los salmos cuyo valor milagrero era y sigue siendo venerado por los sefardies. Lo que asegurô la supervivencia de la popularidad de estos romances biblicos fue sin embargo su incorporation a las ceremonias y grandes fechas del calendario judio, al mismo tiempo que el ciclo vital de la mujer sefardi, desde la cuna hasta la sepultura. M. Atdas en su breve anâlisis de los romances de "La consagraciôn de Moisés" y de "El Paso del Mar Rojo" observe que: Lo singular de estas romanzas (sobre Moisés) dériva de su funciôn especial, distinta de las otras canciones en ladino empleadas en las fiestas... son cantadas en la vispera de la fiesta o en el dia mismo de la fiesta. N o sucede asi con nuestras romanzas... Estas romanzas eran cantadas solamente en los dias precedentes a la fiesta de Pesaj, dejàndose de emplearlas en visperas de la fiesta. (Amas 1961: 309)

De forma similar, "Los siete hijos de Hannah," y "La muerte de Absalôn" fueron adoptados como endechas. y podian ser entonados, únicamente en situacionés extraordinarias como Tish'a be-Ab que commémora la destruction del los dos Templos en Jerusalén (Armistead & Silverman 1970). Otros romances biblicos como "El juicio de Salomon," no parece tener una funciôn especifica y quizás esta ausencia de causalidad explique su escasa popularidad y el numéro extremadamente reducido de versiones recogidas. Por su parte el romance de "El sacrificio de Isaac" era entonado la noche antes de la circuncisiôn. Noche de fervor y temor, conocida entre los sefardies italianos como veglia, o entre los sefardies de Marruecos como noche del tâlamo en que la ansiedad, regocijo y devotion constituian sentimientos inextricables (Horowitz 1989).

En esta vigilia que en algunas comunidades judias constituia una velada exclusivamente reservada para las mujeres, se cantaba el romance de "El sacrificio de Isaac." Es muy probable que al cantar este romance las informantes sefardies se idendficaran con la madré del nino y establecieran un lazo emodvo con ella y con la protagonista principal de este romance, la matriarca Sara. La ausencia de ésta ultima es uno de los elementos mâs sorprendentes de todo el episodio del libro de Génesis y uno de los más discuridos recientemente por los exegetas de la Biblia. Sin embargo a pesar del silencio biblico sobre la pardcipaciôn de la madré en este capitulo, las recitadoras sefardies del romance dieron vida a la voz silenciada de Sara y otorgaron a la matriarca un mayor protagonismo que a Abraham, calificàndola con el epiteto exclusivo de Saddika o santa. Asi establecen un enlace afecdvo tanto con la madré del recién nacido como con la protagonista del romance. En este cantar asistimos a una transposition temádca. Si la Biblia oculta la presencia de Sara, y si el Zohar enfatiza la voluntad de Isaac de ser sacrificado, el romance cantado por las sefardies amplifica la angustia, el amor maternai y el sacrificio supremo de la madré. En los Ultimos anos, los estudios romancisricos de orientation feminista han indicado la importancia de las recitadoras como vectores culturales en la transmisiôn de los romances. En su cômputo del Romancero tradicional de las lenguas hispânicas editado por Diego Catalân (1957-1985), Teresa Catarella indica un promedio de un 77 por ciento de recitadoras. E n la tradiciôn sefardi esta representaciôn femenina es superior, lo que significa una feminization del romancero sefardi (Catarella 1990: 342). La antropologia feminista propone que la confinaciôn del hombre a la esfera publica y la relegation de la mujer al dominio doméstico representan la division mâs importante entre los géneros. Esta division no es tan rigida en el romancero biblico sefardi, sin embargo la tradiciôn judeo-espanola présenta ciertas caracteristicas propias. S. G. Armistead observô que: es includable que la gran mayoria de los informantes son, en efecto, mujeres. Sin embargo, de vez en cuando se da con hombres excepcionales, sobre todo, ha^anim buenos cantores de sinagoga. Estos hombres, quizá con el m o d v o de pracdcar su voz, han aprendido cierto repertorio de romances. (Armistead & Silverman 1973: 39)

J. H. Silverman concluye por su parte que: ... los repertorios recordados por hombres subrayan sobre todo el romance religioso o de tema religioso. (Armistead & Silverman 1973: 40)

Si es verdad que el romancero biblico sefardi era cantado por hombres y mujeres, no deja de ser cierto que estos romances fueron reapropriados con todos sus elementos del midrash, de la exégesis biblica culta ο popular por las recitadoras sefardies. Debemos preguntarnos si el romancero biblico adquiriô un significado especial o ûnico. La primera indication de este trato fue aportada por José Benoliel en su correspondencia con D. Ramôn Menéndez Pidal. E n su investigation sobre la tradiciôn tangerina Benoliel nos informa que:

Los romances de origen biblico son tan populäres como los otros, pero por una curiosa supersticiôn cuando se principian a cantar, es obligatorio acabarlos. Las judias antiguas, no se bromean con estas cosas, y dene infinita gracia el tono y aire solemnes que asumen cuando cantan estos romances. Benoliel no explicô las razones de tal costumbre. Igualmente Larrea Palacin al publicar una version tetuani de "El sacrificio de Isaac" anotô al pie de la página que: "Una vez cantada (esta canciôn) ha de terminar y cantarse entera so pena de pecado." (Larrea Palacin 1952, vol. I: 124). y Amilcar Paulo agrega independientemente la misma observation en su version cripto-judaica portuguesa del mismo romance (Paulo 1969). Todo hace pensar que las recitadoras sefardies consideraban estos romances como una extension de los textos sagrados o simplemente como oraciones que requerian la reverencia y el cuidado que se deben a la recitation de las tefilot (oraciones) y a la lectura de la Torah. Igualmente dejar una oration inconclusa es un acto vedado por todas las autoridades rabinicas. La prohibition de no acabar o modificar el texto biblico queda estrictamente indicada en los versiculos del Deuteronomio según los cuâles: " N o anadiréis a la palabra que yo os mando, ni disminuiréis de ella, para que guardéis los mandamientos de D. vuestro D. que yo os ordeno" (4:2), reiterado mâs tarde como sigue: "Cuidaréis de hacer todo lo que yo os mando: no anadirás a ello, ni quitarás de ello" (12:32). El episodio de Amnôn y Tamar es una de las pocas lecturas prohibidas por el Talmud. El tratado Mishnaico de Meguilab indica que: "La pericopa de David (es decir de David y Bersabé) y la de Amnôn y Tamar, se leen pero no se traducen." Y segûn aigunas variantes talmûdicas estos dos episodios no deben ser ni leidos ni traducidos. Sin embargo, a pesar de esta recomendaciôn, las recitadoras sefardies desatendieron este precepto rabinico y se identificaron de forma subversiva con la protagonista del episodio convertida en victima. Esta solidaridad y religiosidad femeninas pueden observarse en los romances biblicos del "Rapto de Dina," de "Amnôn y Tamar" y la "Consagraciôn de Moisés." En este ûltimo romance las recitadoras sefardies enfatizan la presencia de Miriam y elaboran el detalle midrashico del pozo de la hermana de Moisés que acompanaba al pueblo hebreo en el desierto y que cesô de dar agua con su muerte. E n el caso del "Rapto de Dina," las recitadoras elaboraron un episodio poco analizado por las autoridades rabinicas y dieron voz a una victima silenciada en la Biblia. Igualmente el final en boda o rosado que encontramos en este romance es mâs que una formula oral o cliché como lo consideran algunos invesdgadores del romancero sefardi. Representa un deseo de reivindicaciôn al mismo tiempo que puede seguir la tradiciôn de las lecturas de los textos proféticos o haftarot que se cantan los sábados en las sinagogas y que deben concluir con una nota optimista o feliz. Benoliel ya habia observado esta posible influencia y D. Catalân indicô que: "La abundancia de los desenlaces felices en la tradiciôn marroqui se relaciona con actitudes y creencias que trascienden el campo del Romancero" (Catalân 1970: 10). En el romance de "Amnôn y Tamar" que relata la violation de Tamar por parte de su medio hermano, las recitadoras sefardies muestran gran simpatia por la victima y se solidarizan con su angustia expresada con versos dramâticos como "siete gritos diera Tamar que los cielos aburacaran."

La relation de las recitadoras con las protagonistas femeninas va más allà de una simple solidaridad de géneros. La inclusion de la matriarca Sarah y de la profesusa Miriam muestran una conexiôn directa con la liturgia de la sinagoga y una ampliation del marco exclusivamente masculino compuesto por los très patriarcas biblicos. Los romances biblicos sefardies dan un mayor protagonismo a las heroinas biblicas, otorgan caracterîsdcas suministradas por el Midrash y consrituyen una literatura religiosa femenina. La posible razôn de la reapropriaciôn de los romances biblicos por parte de la mujer, a pesar de que estos romances hayan sido compuestos y cantados por hombres, puede explicarse mediante un anâlisis de la condition de la mujer en la tradiciôn sefardi y en los paises islâmicos de la cuenca del Mediterrâneo donde carecia de una educaciôn religiosa formai. Desde los dempos talmûdicos los rabinos eximieron a la mujer de toda una serie de preceptos y mandamientos sujetos a un momento muy especîfico del dia. Las únicas obligaciones para la mujer son las de Hallah (separar una portion de la masa y quemarla), Niddah (las leyes de la menstruation) o hadlakat haner (encender las vêlas antes del sàbado y de los días fesdvos), que 11evan las siglas hebreas de Hannah, otra heroina judia y protagonista de una endecha paralitürgica. Consecuentemente la mujer, aunque asisda a la sinagoga, no estaba obligada a recitar oraciones como el hombre. Aunque los rituales religiosos de la vida domésdca pertenecian casi exclusivamente al dominio de la mujer judia, su experiencia espiritual no quedaba confinada a estas acdvidades hogarenas. La mujer tenia necesidades religiosas que rebasaban la es fera intima de la casa. En la sociedad asquenasi de los judios orientales y occidentales existe una abundante production de oraciones escritas para y por las mujeres o para "los hombres que son como mujeres," es decir que no saben hebreo (Weissler 1989). Estas oraciones publicadas en pliegos sueltos y conocidas con el nombre de tkhines (del hebreo va-etkhanan) fueron compuestas en Yiddish para mayor comprensiôn del publico, es decir en lenguaje vernâculo, y eran recitadas en ocasionés especiales, todas vinculadas con la religion y con las necesidades espirituales y domésdcas de la mujer y de la familia (Weissler 1987). Estas tkhines eran tan populäres que en 1880 el bibliôgrafo I. Benjacob, afirmô que eran muy numérosas y resultaba prácucamente imposible establecer un catâlogo (Berger 1992:81). Una de las diferencias mâs importante con las oraciones oficiales de la sinagoga es la tendencia sistemática en las tkhines a reemplazar el pronombre colecrivo de "nosotros" por el mâs personal y lirico del "yo" femenino. Por esa razôn la tkhine expresaba mejor un acto de devotion individual. Aunque M. Lazar (1995), S. G. Armistead (1990) y E. Gutwirth (1996) han publicado compilaciones y fragmentos de lo que parece ser una literatura 1itúrgica destinada a un publico femenino, todos los tesoros de la Geni^a del Cairo no han revelado todavia un material importante espiritual femenino. La mujer sefardi tenia un conocimiento indirecto del Me'am lo'e^ y de la literatura oral y escrita del Midrash, de las copias paralitùrgicas, o asisda a la sinagoga, pero también necesitaba expandir su esfera espiritual. La mujer asquenasi en cambio, ampliô su horizonte religioso con las tkhines, pero el ama de casa sefardi confinada por las restricciones rabinicas y las

sociedades circundantes, requeria fuentes suplementarias individuales de espiritualidad y solidaridad. Las informantes sefardies incorporaron elementos del Midrash en estos romances biblicos para recrear una nueva vision de su vida religiosa en la cual la oration o en este caso estos cantares adquirieron un significado tan importante como el que poseian los piyutim o la oraciones colectivas para los hombres. William Bascom en un articulo seminal sobre el folklore, estableciô cuatro de sus funciones. La primera que ofrece el folklore es la fantasia y evasion contra los tabues y las represiones sexuales, politicas y religiosas impuestas por la sociedad sobre el individuo. La segunda funciôn es la de dar validez a la cultura, sus rituales e instituciones. La tercera es didáctica, y la cuarta, que puede parecer paradôjica, es la de mantener la conformidad y dpos de conducta aceptables (Bascom 1954). Los romances biblicos sefardies no representan un legado subversivo ni ponen en tela de juicio las bases de una sociedad patriarcal, lo que si proponen es dar expresiôn arrisrica a una serie de preocupaciones femeninas desatendidas por la liturgia oficial sancionada por los hombres con el propôsito de poder alcanzar un mayor grado de espiritualidad y satisfaction religiosa. Si la segregation de la mujer la alejaba de la esfera publica religiosa, paradôjicamente abria otros caminos y le permitia desarrollar una nueva perspectiva y un grado mayor de independencia religiosa. El estudio de la espiritualidad de la mujer sefardi permanece una tierra incognita. La reapropriaciôn del romancero biblico sefardi por parte de las recitadoras y su ritualizaciôn aseguraron la transmisiôn oral de estos romances. Al mismo riempo ampliaron los parâmetros litùrgicos para un publico femenino. Al seleccionar, replantear y dirigir estos romances biblicos hacia sus necesidades religiosas mâs inmediatas, las recitadoras sefardies contribuyeron igualmente a una labor continua de reinterpretaciôn de los textos biblicos, que conoce sus origenes desde los tiempos mâs remotos y que a veces se llama "The Midrashic enterprise." Los romances biblicos sefardies, quizás, no lograron alcanzar el carácter devocional, feminista o de intimidad de las tkhines asquenasies. Sin embargo, las recitadoras sefardies pudieron, dentro de los parâmetros estrictos socioreligiosos y de las fuentes sagradas de los romances biblicos, ampliar los horizontes de su espiritualidad, expresar ciertas reivindicaciones e incluso contraponer al sistema patriarcal una alternativa más afin a sus necesidades y sensibilidad.

Bibliography Alvar, M. 1969. Endechasjudeo-espaiiolas. Madrid: CSIC.

, 1971. Poesia traditional de losjudios espanoles. México: Porrûa. Armistead, S. G. 1990. "A Judeo-Spanish Prayer." La Corônica 19, 1, 235-246. Armistead, S. G. and Silverman, J. H. 1970. "The Judeo-Spanish Chapbook. Endegas de

TiŠah bi-Ab. " Hispanic Review 38, 46-55. , et al. 1973. "El romancero sefardi ayer y hoy." En El Romancero en la tradition oral moderna. I'r Coloquio International. Madrid: Câtedra Seminario Menéndez Pidal, 39—52.

Attias, M. 1961. Romancero sefaradi. Romanças y cantes populäres en judeo-espanol· Jerusalem: Instituto Ben Zevi.

Bascom, W. 1954. "Four Functions of Folklore." journal ofAmerican Folklore 67, 333-349. Benardete, M. J. 1923. Los romancesjudeo-espanoles de Nueva York. M. A. Columbia University. Reedited by S. G. Armistead and J. H. Silverman. 1981.Judeo-Spanish Ballads from New York. Berkeley: University of California Press. , 1963. Hispanisme de los sefardies levantines. Madrid: Aguilar. Benoliel, J. 1927-1952. "Dialecto judeo-hispano marroqui ο hakida." Bole/in de la Real Academia Espanola 13, 1926, 209-233; 342-363; 14, 1927, 137-168; 196-234; 357373; 566-580; 15,1928, 47-61; 188-223; 32, 1952, 255-289. Berger, S. 1992. "Tehities. A Brief Survey of Women's Prayers." En Daughters of the King. Women and the Synagogue. Ed. S. Grossman and R. Haut. Philadelphia: The Jewish Publications Society, 73-83. Cantera Burgos, F. 1954. "Hebraismos en la poesia sefardi." En Estudios dedicados a MenéndeZ Tidal. Madrid: CSIC. Vol. 5, 69-98. Cata1án, D. 1957-1985. Romancero tradicional de las lenguas hispánicas. Madrid: Cátedra Seminario Menéndez Pidal-Gredos. 12 vols. Catarella, T. 1990. "Femenine Historicizing in the romancero novelesco." Bulletin of Hispanic Studies 67,311-343. Danon, A. 1896. "Recueil de romances judeo-espagnoles chantées en Turquie avec traducdon française et notes." Revue des Etudes Juives 32, 1896, 102-123, 263-275; 33, 1896, 121-139; 255-268. Gutwirth, E. 1996. "A Judeo-Spanish Planctus from the Cairo Genizah." Romance Philology 49, 420-28. Horowitz, E. 1989. "The Eve of the Circumcision: A Chapter in the History of Jewish Nightlife." Journal of Social History 23.1, 45-69. Larrea Palatin, A. 1952. Romances de Tetuán. 2 vols. Madrid: CSIC. , 1954. Canciones rituales hispano-judias. Celebraciones familiares y ciclo festivo anual. Madrid: CSIC. Lazar, M. ed. 1995. Siddur Tefilot. A Woman's Ladino Prayer Book. California: Labyrinthos. Martinez Ruiz, J. 1963 "Poesia sefardi de carácter tradicional (A1cazarquivir)." Archivum 13, 79-215. Menéndez Pidal, R. 1972. "Romancero judioespanol." En su Los romances de América y otros estudios. Madrid: Espasa-Calpe. Menéndez y Pelayo, M. 1928. Antologia de poetas liricos castellanos. Madrid: Hernando. Vol. I., and Vol. 12. Paulo, A. 1969. Romancero criptojudaico. Subsidies para 0 estudo do folclore marrano. Bragança: Escola dp0gráfica. Rodriguez-Monino, A. 1969. La Silva de romances de Barcelona, 1561. Contribution al estudio bibliografico del romancero espanol en el siglo XVI. Salamanca: Universidad de Salamanca. , 1970. Diccionario bibliografico de pliegos sueltospoéticos. Madrid: Castalia. , 1970. Silva de romances (Zaragoza 1550-1551). Estudio bibliografico e indices. Zaragoza: Publicaciones de la Cátedra. Santa Biblia. Antiguoy Nuevo Testamentes. Antigua version de Casiodoro de Retna (1569) revisada por Cipriano de Valera (1602) y cotejada posteriormente con diversas traductionsy con tos textos hebreoy griego. London: Sociedad Biblica Trinitaria. Weissler, C. 1987. "The Traditional Piety of Ashkenazic Women." In Jewish Spirituality from the Sixteenth Century to the Present. Ed. A. Green. New York: Crossroad, 245-75. , 1989. "For Women and for Men who are like Women: The Construction of Gender in Yiddish Devodonal Literature." Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion 5, 2, 3—24.

LA POESIA MARRANA Y SU PROYECCIÔN EN EL SIGLO XXI D E L

M O M E N T O DE J.

P.

D E LA E X P U L S I Ô N A T R A V É S D E L G A D O

A SU VIGENCIA

DE

LA

POESIA

PRESENTE

MIRTA SCHNEIDER CIDICSEF, Buenos Aires, Argentina H I P Ô T E S I S : Percibir una voz de exilio en palabras que se reiteraban en la poesia judeo espanola contemporânea fue el comienzo de un presagio y el punto de partida de este trabajo. Yendo hacia atrás pude reconocer una matriz semántica que se reiteraba desde el m o m e n t o de la expulsion en la obra de Jao Pinto Delgado hasta la poesia actual de Margalit Matitiahu, Avner Perez, Isaac Menasce, Juan Gelman.

La poesia sefaradi es refugio, es reencuentro y diâlogo con otros que padecen los mismos sufrimientos; es consuelo pero es también un espacio de reconocimiento y de idenddad. Durante 500 anos esta comunidad expulsada de su derra se es fuerza en mantener su lengua y la vivifica en ese espacio de la escritura poética. Esta poesia tiene la marca de las voces del pasado. Implica un esfuerzo por lograr que se siga oyendo las voces que se escuchaban antes del exilio. Por que esas voces "son la verdad." Podriamos citar a Ludwig Witggenstein que dice: "la verdad es un tono de voz." Por lo tanto trabajaré en dos aspectos de la poesia Sefaradi; el primero, el narrativo que es el mas conocido el que cuenta una historia de expulsion y de exilio. El otro el aspecto formai que muestra recursos de escritura que expresan los sentimientos contradictorios que produce esta historia. La necesidad de recriminar al pais expulsor y a la vez el recuerdo nostâlgico de un pasado recordado desde el exilio como paradisiaco. El canon formai en el m o m e n t o de la expulsion de la comunidad sefardi impone los recursos léxicos y sintâcticos de la poesia cultista del renacimiento. Pero en esta escritura las ambivalencias, las oposiciones, las contradicciones, adquieren una dimension dramática que va mas allà de los usos literarios, que es la contradiction del exiliado, su desgarramiento histôrico: amar y extranar lo perdido y odiar la crudeza de la expulsion. Una expulsion ocasionada por el empecinamiento en no renunciar a su idenddad y a su diferencia cultural. La poesia es un espacio criptico, que permite esconderse en un refugio desde donde se aferra la contradiction del deseo: recuperar lo perdido, no entregarse a la anoranza y edificar en ese lugar secreto de la lengua literaria el hogar materno, recordando el tono de voz de la madre c o m o un espacio de paraiso y reconocimiento. La llave de ese paraiso perdido es el uso de las reiteraciones de sustantivos que se repiten en la poesia Sefardi a lo largo de cinco siglos.

Podriamos citar como ejemplos: palomba, solombra, torre, vergel, chiquez, kamareta, mares, esfiienyos, acodrar, curtijo, pedrido, peyes, arugadas. Estas palabras los convoca y los identifica. Son como un conjuro que récupéra la herencia cultural de su pasado hispânico que les habia sido arrebatada. ^Que significado le doy a esta repetition? He presentido en esa reiteration la participation en un ritual que contenga el poder de anular el exilio. Convocar con las palabras a una madre inalterable a pesar de la expulsion. Alcanzar una especie de paraiso perdido en el que se supere el sufrimiento y la humiliation. Esta reiteration en el uso de las palabras como un conjuro les permitirá mantenerse unidos y esperanzados en la reconciliation y el retorno. Las palabras son un puente con el pasado y una alhaja inalterable que los confirma en su identidad y su pertenencia. La poeta contemporânea, Margalit Matitiahu hace referencia a las palabras del siguiente modo: Las Palavras devienen madejas, Las vo despiegando las vo rodeando hasta que piedren su senso locas de no ser Yo las amaso de nuevo y les do vivenza: Nasen a ser mi pan, nasen a ser mi vino, no se arugan en el tiempo de la zona eternel.

Las palabras son joyas que "no se arugan " en el tiempo y son el alimento que los vivifica y los reúne en esa ceremonia sécréta que es el uso poético de la lengua madre que evocan. Ceremonia que está imaginada por esta poétisa como las dos tareas femeninas básicas, el tejer y el cocinar. El despliegue de la madeja que permite tejer y el estiramiento de la masa para hacer el pan. La palabra es reiterada como las actividades diarias en la cocina. El alimento y el vestido otorga consuelo para el sentimiento de orfandad de los expulsados. La palabra es ese rito cotidiano de alimento, de abrigo, que permite sobrevivir. También es el ornamento, la alhaja inalterable en este espacio de la "ΐζοηα eternel." Las palabras son la mûsica de un D's de Israel en el verdjel hispânico de la lengua.

Dice Avner Perez: Akodrate de la palavra, temblor me tomo, de manyana te bushki, akodrate de la palavra. Mi aima tiene sed por ti, mi karne te dezea, akodrate de la palavra. Se konsumio de dezeo mi aima, se konsumieron mis ojos. Akodrate, apresurate, salvame, amor, no te olvides de la palabra.

Esta poema habla de esa funciôn femenina atribuida a la palabra poéuca que es la posibilidad de sostener la vida venciendo el olvido, la muerte, la fusion indiferenciada que implica la consumaciôn del deseo. Hablaré ahora de la obra de Jao Pinto Delgado poeta del siglo XVI que alude al proceso histôrico que da origen a este hecho reiteradvo en la lengua. La poesia se llama "A la Salida de Lisboa." Pinto Delgado naciô en 1.580 en Algarves, Lisboa. Alli viviô sus primeros anos. Hijo mayor de très hermanos, sus padres emigraron al Flandes espanol para que prosiguiera sus estudios, en especial los literarios. Conociô la obra de J. Manrique, Luis de Leôn, Garcilaso y Gôngora. Este ultimo deja su impronta en la obra de Jao Pinto Delgado. El conceptismo y el culteranismo impregnan los versos de contradicciôn y ambivalencia que va mas allà del canon formal. Es el desgarro del que es expulsado de la derra madré y se aferra a la lengua madré, al ûnico espacio donde no hay exilio. Mostrando la imagen de esa figura maternal dual, que exige a la palabra del exiliado ser el dolor de la respiraciôn que permite sobrevivir. Reconozcamos y recorramos desde esta position de escritura la búsqueda de sobrevivencia y reparation. La palabra Madré y la garra leonina hispánica que los expulsa. Transitar con el autor el exilio interior, vivirlo y aferrarse a la lengua. Una palabra profunda, silenciosa, amasada y acariciada que enfrente la contradicciôn de la vida y la muerte en el mismo espacio. Por ello la relation ambivalente con la madré y el persistir hablândole en la misma lengua. Como si no hubiera pasado el dempo, manteniendo la fonédca que nos permita oir las voces que se escuchaban en el momento de la expulsion. El poema a la salida de Lisboa expresa este uso de los vocablos hispanos que lo engarzan con el vientre materno dualista contradictorio: Espana. Cuan doloroso es llamar ... infame puerta la del olivo y la espada para salir tan cerrada y para entrar tan abierta....

La puerta es el simbolo del sexo materno. De ese cuerpo "leonino" que nos impidiô volver a Sefarad. Reaparece la figura femenina, tierna, erotica, danina y expulsora. Violento y culpable es para la madre, parir para dejar morir. N o fue la expulsion de una placenta que otorga vida, que desea ver a sus hijos bendecidos. Con la fuerza de la lucha de tu espada hiriente, olvidaste tus frutos "el olivo." La metâfora de tus hijos que, como nuevas palombas, no pueden volver al nido, despojados de su historia y de su pasado. Se mataron los cuerpos y se intentô apagar los sonidos, hacerles perder sus solombras , pero no pudieron silenciar sus lenguas. Elias cubren los mares, las torres, los aires, las palombas, las solombras de mi chiquez. Si en la paz se destierra no hay que esperar la paloma

Te lanzan para emigrar, pero solo sabes volver a "Tu Torre, Palomba." Se entrelazan en tus entrafias; te abrazan no te quieren abandonar. Porque a pesar de todo tu lengua acaricia, pero ,;Como olvidar esa puerta expulsora en la que brilla la imagen de la inquisiciôn que une la espada y el olivo? Puerta expulsora del poder religioso-politico que "niega la vida "a quién se niega a traicionar su tradiciôn y al que confiesa su origen. A ambos los condena olvidândose de lo que sudô el pobre para acrecentar la riqueza de la Corona Hispánica." Niegas la vida a quien niega, y al que confiesa entre las llamas entrega. N o basta ver que sudô el pobre con lo que vives, pues lo que ganô recibes y coges lo que el sembrô.

E n esta poesia a esta imagen de madre dual, apropiadora y expulsiva, se contrapone la imagen también dual de la doncella hija que muere torturada en la hoguera por no someterse a la imposiciôn materna, pero quejàndose de su dolor en la misma lengua de la madre. La doncella, entre el tormento, estando en la vida incierta, medio viva y medio muerta responde a tu pensamiento.

Muerte y exilio vividos y expresados en la lengua materna, pero marcando a partir de este hecho histôrico, una diferencia que sépara la lengua sefardi del castellano que seguirá evolucionando en Espana. Es decir que esta hija muere en la hoguera, pero deja en la lengua a la vez la marca de su pertenencia y de su diferencia negândose a continuar la historia del espanol que la expulsô.

Anclada en la fonética del siglo XVI, la lengua sefardi es un testimonio de fidelidad a un pasado y de dignidad ante el sometimiento. El sonido de las palabras trae el recuerdo vivo de las voces que participaron de la cultura hispánica y de las que se recogieron en los diferentes lugares del exilio. La palabras fueron el sostén de una comunidad condenada al exterminio pero reunida y recuperada en el espacio simbôlico de la lengua c o m o matrix sostenedora. Alcanzar la reconciliation que se proponia c o m o esperanza, hoy es una realidad a la que este Congreso nos convoca. Pero alcanzar la reconciliation a partir del reconocimiento de una diferencia que exigiô el tributo de los cuerpos. La doncella quemada en la hoguera se queja en la poesia de Jao Pinto Delgado del abandono del D's biblico. Volverà a sentir su amparo que se hará más firme en este siglo con la existencia del Estado de Israel. Este reaseguro polidco es un factor importante para alcanzar después de cinco siglos este reconocimiento. Fuerza polidca, dignidad en la afirmaciôn de la diferencia, amor por la lengua de origen, son los très pilares de este reencuentro. La palabra poéuca ha tejido la trama que posibilitô la conjunciôn de estos très factores conjurando las contradicciones, sosteniendo el deseo p o r este retorno respetuoso. Siglos reiterando en estos sustandvos, la voz lejana de la madré y la voz peculiar de la hija sufriente y digna:palomba,... vergel,.. .solombra. La palabra que es salvation y deseo. Acto de amor y libertad. E n esta música de la poesia se desbarata el odio de la hoguera y la expulsion. El haber sostenido la lengua permite elaborar la violencia sufrida c o m o hijo; no c o m o extranos y posibilita las trans formaciones del furor, logrando asi la reconciliaciôn. Este es un caso ûnico en el m u n d o contemporâneo. La poesia que desbarata el odio entre el pueblo oprimido y el opresor. Por ello esta poesia sefardi ha buscado sustandvos que puedan crecer fuera del vientre materno, potenciando asi su fuerza natural a partir del recurso de la reiteration, venciendo el exilio y salvando la idenddad. T o d o s los vocablos poseen la fuerza de la idenddad hispánica y la fuerza de la resistencia a fundirse en ella. Cada palabra demuestra su legitimidad, su conviction de haber sido participe de la literatura y las ciencias de la época, de su pertenencia a una cultura que no p u d o expulsarlos de la lengua. La literatura fue el sostén cultural de una comunidad que estaba condenada al exterminio. Y esta reiteration de vocablos que nos parece el principal recurso de esta escritura fue un "no," un acto de resistencia a la desapariciôn cultural. E s lo que permitiô el crecimiento de esta lengua hija sin fundirse, posibilitando una idenddad diferente. Fueron pues las palabras las que otorgaron paridad posicional a la lengua madré y a la lengua hija y es lo que les dio la posibilidad de este reencuentro.

Conclusion Este trabajo ha intentado interpretar a la luz de las teorias críricas actuales, esta reiteration conductora de senddos. La poesia sefardi gestada en el campo cultural hispânico, duena de los recursos literarios del siglo de oro, a partir de la expulsion empieza a afirmar su diferencia con respecto al desarrollo posterior de la literatura espanola. Esta diferencia es la de una cultura exiliada que necesita generar lazos comunitarios que reúnan a sus miembros. Estos lazos son las palabras reiteradas como ritos de reconocimiento y de reencuentro. A través del sostén de una lengua literaria la comunidad sefardi pudo expresar su deseo de recuperar el paraiso perdido, el edén de la madre patria expulsora. Lengua, Tierra-Madre-patria, Voz poéuca es el deseo que imprégna esta matriz semántica que como una joya se mandene intacta durante cinco siglos. Palabras guardadas en aquellos espacios donde ya no caben los espacios. Donde los silencios están cubiertos por palabras de nuestro inconsciente, para salvarnos del olvido de nosotros mismos.

Bibliografia Deleuze, G.-Guattari, F. 1978. Kafka. Por una literatura menor. México: Ediciones Era.

Oelman, T. 1982. Marrans Poets of the Seventeenth Century. London-Toronto: Asociated University Presses. Wittgenstein, L. 1990. Tractatus. Longman: New York, London.

E L LADINO (JUDEO-ESPANOL CALCO) DE ISHAC CARDOSO HAÏM-VIDAL SEPHIHA Sorbonne Nouvelle-Paris VIII, France

En Amsterdam, en 1679, el Doctor Ishac Cardoso (1615-1680), editaba su obra: Las Excelencias de los Hebreos, escrita en un espanol verdaderamente cervandno. Pero, generalmente, cada vez que citaba un versiculo biblico lo hacia en ladino 1 D e f i n i t i o n y caracteristicas de lo que llamo judeo-espanol calco o ladino se encontrarân en mis estudios siguientes: a) 1973. Le ladino {judéo-espagnol calque)•, Deutéronome, versions de Constantinople (1547) et de Ferrare (1555). Edition, Etude linguistique et lexique. Paris: E d i d o n s Hispaniques, Sorbonne. T h è s e de [[[‫״״‬c Cycle soutenue le 13 mai 1970. b) 1974. "Problémadque du judéo-espagnol." bulletin de la Société de Linguistique de Paris 69, 1, 159-189. c) 1975. " E v o l u d o n du ladino (judéo-espagnol calque) du XIII c m c siècle à nos jours." Revue des Études Juives 134, 3 - 4 , 198-201. d) 1975. " U n e bible judéo-espagnole chrétienne." E n Hommage à André Neher. Paris: Librairie Maisonneuve, 357-370. e) 1975. "Ladino (judéo-espagnol calque) et c o m m e n t a t e u r s . " Revue de l'Histoire des Religions 4e'"1' trimestre, 117-128. f) 1975. "Théorie du ladino: Additifs." E n Mélanges offerts à Charles Vincent Aubrun. Ed. H. V. Séphiha. II, 255-284, Paris: Editions Hispaniques, Sorbonne. g) 1976. "Diachronie du ladino (judéo-espagnol calque)." E n XIV Congresso Internationale di Lingüistica e Fi/ologia Romança (Napoli, 15-20 Aprile 1974), ATTI, II, 555-564, J o h n Benjamins B.V. h) 1977. "Sacré, littérarité et littéralité en judéo-espagnol." E n Colloques de la Société Ernest Renan. Orsay, 13-19. i) 1977. "Archaïsmes lexicaux en ladino (judéo-espagnol calque)." E n Cahiers de linguistique hispanique médiévale 2, 253-261. j) 1977. "L'intensité en judéo-espagnol." E n IBERICA I, Ed. H. V. Séphiha. Paris: Editions Hispaniques, Sorbonne, 285-294. k) 1978. "Créations lexicales en ladino (judéo-espagnol calque)." En Estudios ofreados a Emilio Alanos Llorach. Universidad de Oviedo, II, 241-255. 1) 1979. "Ladino (judéo-espagnol calque) et sémantique." E n IBERICA II. Paris: Editions Hispaniques, Sorbonne, 115-126. m) 1989/1990. JUDEO-ESPAGNOL ET CONTACrOLOClE, Dossier. Cours polycopié de l'Institut d'Etudes du judaïsme Martin Buber, Bruxelles: Université de Bruxelles. n) 1991. " E l ladino verdadero o judeoespanol calco, lengua 1itúrgica." Jornadas de Estudios SeJ'ardies (Cáceres 2 4 - 2 6 mars 1980). E n ACTAS, 15-29. o) 1992. Lll L-1DINO (judéo-espagnol calque): Structure et évolution d'une langue liturgique. T h è s e d'Etat soutenue en nov. 1979, réduite à deux tomes lors de son édition par Vidas Largas, à Paris: t.I, Théorie du ladino; t.Il., Textes et Commentaires. p) 1992. "Caracterizaciôn de la lengua de la Biblia de Ferrara (1553)." E n Introducciôn a la Biblia q)

de Ferrara, Adas delSimposio internacional (Sevilla, noviembre de 1991). Ed. I. M. Hassán, 299-314. 1995/1996. "Existe-t-il un judéo-catalan calque? O u i ! — Constance lexicale." E n Estudis de lingüistica i fi/ologia oferts a ANTONI M. BADIA I MARC A RIT, Biblioteca Abat Oliba, Departament de Filologia Catalana, Universität de Barcelona, Publications de l'Abadia de Montserrât, II, 339-349.

(judeo-espanol calco), ladino q u e m e r e c e u n estudio d e t e n i d o para ver en

qué

p u e d e d i f e r i r d e las v e r s i o n e s d e F e r r a r a y s u s d e s c e n d i e n t e s h o l a n d e s a s . O b s e r v e m o s p r i m e r o q u e I. C . s a b e p e r f e c t a m e n t e l o q u e s i g n i f i c a l a d i n a r y a q u e d i c e : " E s t a p a l a b r a Kados

( q u e ladinamos

[ s u b r a y a m o s ] S a n t o ) s i g n i f i c a e n la

l e n g u a a p a r t a d o , a s s i D i o s s e l l a m a S a n t o [...]" ( 3 8 a ) I. C . a b r e s u l i b r o c o n D e 7 , 6: " Q u e P u e b l o S a n t o t u al S e n o r t u D i o , y e n d e s c o g i ô , [y s i g u e c o n la c i t a e n la p . 3 b ] p a r a s e r à el p o r p u e b l o d e t e s o r o , d e t o d o s l o s p u e b l o s q u e s o b r e f a z e s d e la d e r r a , " v e r s i o n q u e d i f i e r e m u y p o c o d e la d e F e r r a r a : " Q u e p u e b l o s a n t o t u a. Α . , t u D i o , [y] e n d e s c o g i o p o r s e e r a e l p o r p u e b l o d e t h e s o r o m a s q u e t o d o s l o s p u e b l o s s o b r e f a z e s d e la d e r r a . " L a v e r s i o n f u e r e p r o d u c i d a f i e l m e n t e e n las e d i c i o n e s s i g u i e n t e s : 1547 2 K e p u e b l o s a n t o tu a Y., tu D i o , e n ti e s k o ' g ' o Y., p o r seer a el p o r p u e b l o d e t e z o r o m a s ke t o d o s los p u e b l o s ke s o b r e façes d e la derra. 1 7 4 0 3 ke p u e b l o s a n t o tu a A ; tu D y o en d e s k o ' g ' o A. tu D y o p o r seer ael p o r p u e b l o t r e z o r o m a s ke t o d o s los p u e b l o s ke s o b r e fases d e la tyerra. 1813 4 ky p w y v l w s a n t w tw a H . tw D y y w 'yn ty ' y s k w j w H . tw D y y w p w r sy'yr 'a'yl p w r p w y v l w t r y z w r w m ' a s ky t w d w s lws p w ' y v l w s ky s w v r y fasys dy lah tyyra. 1841 5 P w r k y p w y v l w s a n t w tw a H . tw D y y w . 'yn ty ' y s k w j w H . tw D y y w p w r syr a 'yl p w r p w y v l w t r y z w r w m a s ky t w d w s lws p w y v l w s ky s w v r y fasys dy la tyyrra. M i e n t r a s q u e la B i b l i a e n u n d j u d e z m o a l g o r e c a s t i l l a n i z a d o d e l o s

misioneros

protestantes6 reza: 1 8 7 3 / 1 9 0 5 / 1 9 3 1 7 p w r k y p w y v l w s a n t w 'yrys a H . t w D y y w ; Y. t w D y w ty 'yskwjyyw, p a r a syr a 'yl p w r p w y v l w dy t y z w r w , m a s ky t w d w s lws p w y v l w s ky ,

y s t a n s w v r y las fasys d y la tyyrra.

Y d e r e p e n t e n o s e n c o n t r a m o s c o n la v e r s i o n s i g u i e n t e d e l m i s m o v e r s i c u l o :

r)

2 3 4 5 6 7

1998. Yiddish et Judéo-Espagnol, Un héritage européen.(Avec N. Weinstock). Bureau Européen des Langues Moins Répandues, Bruxelles, s) Idem, Version anglaise. A propôsito del ladinar, hay que recordar que I. M. Hassan escribiô: "El resultado de tal traducciôn [ladino ], que mas que literal ha de considerarse servil, es una lengua calificada adnadamente [por H. V. Sephiha] de 'calco' [...]" En Del cancionero sefardi, colecciôn "Temas Sefardies." Madrid: Ministerio de Cultura, 1985, 19. Pentateuco de Constantinopla. Eliezer Soncino, 1547, ejemplar de la Biblioteca Nacional de Paris. biblia de Asa. Contandnopla, 1739-1745. Séfer Arba'a ve-'esrim. 4 vols. Viena, Georg Holzinger, 1813-1816. Séfer Kitbé ha-kodeS... im ha'atakà sefaradit. 2 Vols. Viena, W. Schaufler, 1841. Véase supra, nota 1. Séfer Tora Neviim u-khethuvim. El livro de la ley, los profetas, i las eskrituras, trazladadio en la lengua espanyola, Constandnopla, 1873, Estamperiya A. H. Boyagiân. Biblia hecha por un misionero protestante. Ya no se trata de judeo-espanol o ladino sino de spanyolit algo recastillanizado (véase H. V. Sephiha, "Une bible judéo-espagnole chrétienne." E n Hommage à André Neher, Paris: Librairie Maisonneuve, 1975, 357-370)—Biblia reeditada en Constantinopla en 1905 y en 1931 (pero esta vez solo la parte espanola).

Y à vos tomô el Senor para ser à el por pueblo de heredad, que pueblo santo tu al Senor tu Dios, y en d escogiô para ser à el por pueblo de tesoro de todos los pueblos qu sobre fazes de la derra. (87, col. b)

Lo que significa que en el mismo versiculo tenemos indiferentemente Dio o Dios. Además, ambas formas pueden aparecer en un versiculo, como en De 30, 6: Y circuncidará el Senor tu Dios à tu coraçon,y à coraçon de tu simiente para amar al Senor tu Dio con todo tu coraçon, y con toda tu aima para tus vidas. (93, col. a )

E n cuanto a su propio texto, I.C. vacila entre ambas formas. Por ejemplo: [...] por esso manda Dios que no consuegren con los gentiles [...] por ser mandado del Dio Bendito [...] quiere Dios mas la obediencia, que la especulacion [...] que assi dixo el pueblo a Mosseh, y à Dios [...]. (39)

Tales variaciones me llevaron a estudiar este fenômeno estadisdcamente. Ofrezco a condnuaciôn los resultados provisionales de este estudio: La obra dene 431 páginas. He recogido los casos que aparecen hasta la página 123. TEXTOS DE I.C.

Dios

Dio

198 82%

25 11%

VERSÎCULOS BIBLICOS

dioses 15 7%

Dios

Dio

34 49,3%

29 45,07%

dioses 3 4,5%

Observamos que Dios y Dio con mayuscula son équivalentes por significar el Dios unico, pero al politeismo corresponde dioses con minuscula. Tal es la nueva mentalidad traida por los conversos. Observemos también que entre los 25 Dio de I.C., 7 hacen parte del conjunto El Dio bendito y 5 del conjunto Casa del Dio ( traducciôn de Bet El), formulas que hacen parte de la lengua coddiana. Este u p o de estudio podria extenderse a otros autores hispano-portugueses hasta a Samuel Usque cuya obra Consolaçào às Tribulaçôes de Israel, nos révéla una verdadera estrategia grâfica: Dio, la forma del ladino (con mayùscula para) el Dios ûnico—denses, plural portugués con minuscula, para los dioses paganos, a veces deoses (LVIIIa)—deus singular portugués con minuscula para un dios pagano ( 0 deus Saturno, LVIIa), hasta di^endolhe tu es 0 deus dos cristaôs (CLIXb)—D. entre dos puntos como. A. de la Biblia de Ferrara—estudio que voy siguiendo desde el punto de vista del ladino, ya que encontré la cita siguiente (LXIIab) de Je 31,18 s.: (18) Castigasteme e recebi o casdgo assi como bezerrinho nam acostumado (que refusa) torname a recolher a ty, e chegarme ey: por que tu es Dio meu: [...] (19) avergonheime i registeme [subrayamos] i padeço oprobio desde minha mocidade.

version muy parecida a la de Ferrara: 8 (18) Castigasteme y fuy casrigado como bezerro no abezado—Fazme tornar, y tornare, porque tu. Α., mi Dio (19) Porque empos mi tornar me arrepenti y empos que me conosci, bâti sobre anca, arregisteme y también fuy avergonçado, porque sufri repudio de mis mocedades.

Ambas versiones incluyen la palabra "arregistar/registar", muy tipica del ladino y de la que Corominas dice: "El judesp. regist(r)0 'vergüenza, turbaciôn' parece debido a influjo del hebr. raga\ 'ser conturbado' " ( bajo gesto, 147a). Y ahora, manos a la obra, que la cosecha nos parece muy esperanzadora.

Manejamos la ediciôn de Ferrara de 1553, ediciôn facsimil com estudos introdutorios por Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi e José V. de Pina Martins. Lisboa: Fundaçào Calouste Gulbenkian, 1989. 2 vols., el primero con estudios, el segundo con la ediciôn facsimil.

CONTRIBUTIONS OF SEPHARDIM TO THE DEVELOPMENT OF L U S O P H O N E AFRICA MITCHELL SERELS Yeshiva University, USA

Cape Verde was the earliest explored although the exact date is uncertain. Most probably in 1456 by an Italian Luigi di Cadamosto with Diogo Gomes de Sintra. During the period of 1460—1462, the various islands were explored. Mainly the islands were visited by da Noli although the names of the islands have changed often (Blake 1942). Finally in 1461, Sandago Island was colonized by Portuguese setders from the Algarve Coast, 34 years before the edict of expulsion at that time Jews were allowed to settle in Ribiera Grande, Great Creek on Santiago Island. They settied in small stone homes inside the fortified compound. When the edict of expulsion was promulgated, these Jews either converted or left. King Manoel also prohibited the Novos Cristanos from settling on the island without special permission. The intention was to limit the influence and success of the New Christians and to prevent the overseas colonies from becoming a haven for those who wished to secretly keep their ancient faith. The Jews who remained, lived in those small homes as a sort of Juderia. Socially, they were disliked by other Portuguese. Ribiera Grande eventually proved to be indefensible to attacks from pirates and rival European navies. The rivalry was over "Black Ivory," the slaves. Some conversos were involved in the slave trade, as was Mestre Filipe. Generally, they leased the right to slaves from the Portuguese monarchy. However, it is often difficult to determine if a pardcular trader was a New Christian. For example, some identify Goncalves de Guzman and Duarte Leao, who held the lease in 1560, as New Christian. However, there is little evidence. The Inquisition rarely reached these areas. In 1512, King Manuel banned New Christians from Cape Verde. If so, then theoretically there would be no Crypto-Jews to search for as heretics. The ban read: Don Manuel, etc., by the grace of God, King of Portugal and of the Algarve and the outer sea in Africa, Lord of Guineas, Conqueror, Navigator, Merchant of Ethiopia, Arabia, Persia and of India, by this letter we would like to have known that we have for our service and to improve and to put to ease the setders and provisions of our Island of Sandago of Cape Verde and to excuse those of any scandals which had occurred and for other jusdfiable respects which we have done to improve thereby, we want to make known that whoever wants to setde in these same Islands that no noble (be allowed) except those with our special permission and license to go to that place. Others, without authority to reside in the same island and to provide thereon, w i be

removed or arrested from that same Island which Francisco Martins shall do, and allow no person to establish residence neither New Christians excepting those for whom we have given our special permission. Notification shall be made of the same to judges, authorities and providers of that same island. It is to them that we send our letter to fulfill and obey and to cause to have fulfilled and obeyed and totally executed as feasible and we give our thanks. Dated in our city of Lisbon on seven of the month of May. Antonio Fernandez [a fez]. Year of the birth of our Lord Jesus Christo of 1516. The King.

In Cape Verde, the first victim of the Inquisition was the Bishop of Ribiera Grande who was charged with being too friendly with Jewish women in 1581 (Serels 1997). Generally during this first period, the conversos men went and they set up networks for providing goods to the slave traders although they themselves did not trade in slaves. Often local governors would charge an individual with being a Crypto Jew if they were successful or if the economic situation was not good and litde revenue was produced for Lisbon. In 1560, Captain Correia de Sousa claimed a New Christian conspiracy was the reason for the economic loss in Guinea (Blake 1942). Generally, if the Portuguese traders had economic contacts with Netherlands they were considered to be Jewish. Generally, those with such contacts rose to prominence in the end of the 16th century. The African rulers themselves tried to keep the Jews and the Christians from debating as in a decree by Amari Ngone, the wolog ruler (Carreira 1984). It was a New Christian, Joao Ferreira, who discovered for the Europeans the taste and value of the Kola nut. In 1591 Ferreira helped Galaya to become the ruler of Fuuta. Tooro, in turn married Galaya's daughter and gained the name Gana Goga "he who speaks many languages." In Guinea, Diogo Dias, a reported converso, had a house with thirteen peopie including African interpreters who had visited Holland. The connection was considered evidence of being a New Christian. However, as Portugal and Holland encroached on each others territory for slaves, these New Christians were at greater risk. Joao Speiro was arrested in 1614 and held to 1620. In 1629, the Portuguese destroyed the Dutch fortification on Goree Island, Dakar, Senegal. There the Portuguese found a synagogue and caught several Jews who reconverted, only to return to Judaism in 1645 when the Dutch returned. In 1641, Jorge de Castillio governor of Cape Verde, claimed that so many Jews lived in Guinea and Senegal that they had built another synagogue. However, except for Shabbat observance, they lived like other Portuguese. They married African women, raised families. Often they had false documents to allow them into Netherlands where they lived as Jews and then returned to Africa as Portuguese. Of course, this claim came about only when governor Francisco da Mauro was charged with corruption and dereliction of duty. He tried to scapegoat the New Christians. Actually the New Christians in Africa practiced very few Jewish customs. Equally there were very few priest. By 1775 in Portugal, there were no recogniz-

able differences between old and New Christians. Long before that date, the differences in the African traders had ceased. In the treaty of 4 May 1818, Britain took the initiative in the abolition of slavery. Netherlands earlier had abolished slavery on 15 June 1814. However, Portugal could not afford the loss of revenue suffered by the abolition of slavery. They needed funds to compensate the owners of freed slaves. The funds were gathered by the British government from Nathan Mayers Rothschild and Sir Moses Montefiore as part of a £15 million fund as part of the West Indies Loan. 1850 the Junta of Jews in Tangier was formed and reorganized in 9 May 1853. In 1853, King Pedro V became the ruler of Portugal, but died suddenly in 1861. His brother Luis became King (1861-1889) and economic stability returned. In 1889, Carlos succeeded Luis and tried to connect Mozambique and Angola by crossing British lines. He nearly destroyed centuries of British Portuguese friendship. Carlos also encouraged further Portuguese setdement in Africa, as in 1887 only two white women lived in Mozambique. In 1908 Carlos and his heir Luis Felipe were assassinated. Manoel II succeeded for only two years before being forced to flee to England and the Republic was established. Jews from Morocco moved to Azores, Algarve. Only two Jews in Cape Verde in the years 1856-1868 were listed as slave owners—Simao Pinto and Jacob Senuya each owned a total of one slave. Only two Jews out of 300 slave owners or 0.5%. The liberalization of restrictions on immigration into Portugal of British subjects benefited some Moroccan Jews. With the provisions of the various treaties between Portugal and Britain, the longest peace between two European nations, citizens and subjects of each country could find residence in the other. Some Moroccan Jew could find a means of living in Gibraltar and acquire English protection in that manner. This means was utilized by Jews from Tangier, Mogadar and Tetuan. Some Tangierian Jews and some from Mogador had previous claims to English or Portuguese cidzenship. Some 19th century Jews effecdvely utilized the route to Gibraltar and then on to Faro, in the Algarve region of Portugal. Others from Rabat and elsewhere went direcdy to the Azores particularly Porta Delgada. The first Jewish marriage in Portugal since the time of the return of the Jews was between Shalom Buzaglo and Simha Conguy in 1819 in Porta Delgada, Sao Miguel, Azores. The second marriage in Portugal was celebrated in Lisbon. On 12 Nissim 5580 (1820) Judah Zagury married Luna Amzalak. The Zagury family was originally from Mogadar as was the Conguy family. However, the Conguy family was long established in Gibraltar. Generally, these families had many children and they intramarried internal to the community. On the other hand, many of the early nineteenth century Jewish settlers of Portugal's Ultramar were young Moroccan Jewish men, sent to seek their fortune. Often, these young men mixed with native women. Some were family members of more established Jewish owned commercial firms of Lisbon or the Azores. After successful business careers, some returned to Morocco. Others moved to Lisbon, while a smaller number died in the overseas provinces and

were buried there. These tombstones are their legacy and provide some of the background on these Jewish pioneers. The descendents of these pioneering young men, while not halakhically Jewish are defined by others or by self définidon as Jews. Alberto Iria in his extensive work which often rely on engineer, Jose Maria Abecasis, apparendy accepts any descendent of Jews as Jews. Iria also seems to accept any non-Iberian European with a biblical first name as Jewish as well. Consequendy, the descendents of Col. Otto Hoffmann Von Hafe are determined to be Jews because of first name of the son Jacob Von Hafe. Under the monarchy, the only birth registry was parochial, generally the date of baptism into the Catholic Church. Portuguese nationality was then based on the Catholic baptism. Members of other faiths had to register with foreign consulates or legations. Later these individuals could acquire Portuguese nationality. Civil birth registering did not exist. However, the Jewish faith has only the ritual of brit Mila for boys and the Las fadas or Zebed Habat for females. The first ritual is compulsory, but often only the Mobelim listed dates for their personal, not communal, records. The second ritual for daughters is voluntary and no record is maintained. Consequendy, there are no clear and comprehensive birth records of 19th century Jews in Portugal. This evidences the difficulty in establishing the Judaic identity of any given individual except through family trees and anecdotal material. Individuals extraneous to the core community are more vaguely identified. Many individual lacked civil status because they had no birth certificate. The lack of a steady, Jewish communal presence often complicates idendfication. The cemeteries in locales are small, containing a handful of graves with some Hebrew characters often indefinable to Portuguese chroniclers. The Jewish antecedents sometimes are buried in non-Jewish areas by their non-Jewish descendents. Some of the anecdotal material comes from the non-Jewish descendent.

Säo Tome Sào Tome is an island country off the indent of Africa. Usque reports the intriguing story of the 2000 children who were taken from their parents. When the and-Jewish activities increased in Portugal as Spain exiles had made their way into the country. Many atrocities were performed against the Jews. One of the most in famous events in the annals of Iberian Jewry was the forcible removal of 2000 Portuguese Jewish children from their parents. These 2000 Jewish children have been missing for 500 years. Samuel Usque describes their deportation to Sào Tomé: T h e island o f S à o T o m é h a d r e c e n d y b e e n d i s c o v e r e d . It w a s zards, snakes, a n d o t h e r v e n o m o u s reptiles, a n d w a s d e v o i d o f H e r e t h e king exiled c o n d e m n e d criminals, a n d h e d e c i d e d t o t h e m t h e i n n o c e n t c h i l d r e n o f these J e w s . T h e i r p a r e n t s h a d c o n d e m n e d by G o d ' s s e n t e n c e .

i n h a b i t e d by lir a d o n a l beings. include a m o n g seemingly b e e n

W h e n t h e luckless h o u r arrived f o r this barbarity t o b e inflicted, m o t h e r s s c r a t c h e d their faces in grief as their b a b e s , less t h a n t h r e e years o l d , w e r e

taken f r o m their arms. H o n o r e d elders t o r e their b e a r d s w h e n t h e fruit o f their b o d i e s w a s s n a t c h e d b e f o r e their eyes. T h e fated children raised their piercing cries t o h e a v e n as they w e r e mercilessly t o r n f r o m their b e l o v e d p a r e n t s . . . Several w o m e n t h r e w t h e m s e l v e s at t h e king's feet, b e g g i n g f o r p e r m i s s i o n t o a c c o m p a n y their children; b u t n o t e v e n this m o v e d t h e king's pity. O n e m o t h e r , d i s t r a u g h t by this h o r r i b l e u n e x p l a i n e d cruelty, lifted h e r b a b y in h e r a r m s , a n d paying n o h e e d t o its cries, t h r e w herself f r o m t h e ship i n t o t h e h e a v i n g sea, a n d d r o w n e d e m b r a c i n g h e r only child. Finally, w h e n t h o s e i n n o c e n t children arrived at t h e w i l d e r n e s s o f S à o T o m é , w h i c h w a s t o b e their grave, they w e r e t h r o w n a s h o r e a n d w e r e mercilessly left there. A l m o s t all w e r e swallowed u p by the h u g e lizards o n t h e island a n d t h e r e m a i n d e r , w h o e s c a p e d these reptiles, w a s t e d away f r o m h u n g e r a n d a b a n d o n m e n t . (Samuel U s q u e )

The incident and the islands are again referred to in the later descripdon by Isaac da Costa: T h e i r children t o r n f r o m the h e a r t s o f their p a r e n t s , o r s n a t c h e d f r o m t h e b o s o m o f their m o t h e r w e r e t r a n s p o r t e d t o t h e isle o f St. T h o m a s a n d elsew h e r e . (Isaac d a Costa)

da Costa noted that Portuguese writers differ from the Jewish annalists especially from Usque, in laying the blame of this ill-treatment exclusively on the people and not on the King himself. Lucio de Azevedo accepted the name Sào Tomé as the island desdnadon for these unfortunate children, but finds Usque's description to be an exaggeration (de Azevedo, Lucio). Roth rejects the idea, postulated by some that Sào Tome referred in Usque is Saint Thomas in the Caribbean (Roth 1935). Azevedo accepts that the children were landed on inhospitable beaches of the island succumbing thereon or devoured. The Island of Sào Tome was given to Alvaro de Caminha in 1493 as lord of the island with the proviso to colonize the island with families, provide wealth for Lisbon and educate these children as Christians. But the selection of Sào Tomé was because of its opulence rather than a potential colonial fort which was inhospitable and uninhabitable. Azevedo most probably based his conclusion on dos Remedios who most likely is influenced by Usquè. However, Alvaro de Caminho utilized two small ships which would have been insufficient for the transport of 2000 children, ages 4 to 14. (dos Remedios,J. Mendes) Usque identifies Sào Tomé through several points 1) newly discovered, 2) barren, 3) no humans living there, and 4) populated by human-eating lizards. Sào Tomé was discovered by the Portuguese in 1470. The island was described as luxuriant, full of unusual flowers and plants, volcanic peaks and fine beaches. Today it has 2% arable land, 1% meadows and pastures and 36% for permanent crops. Because of the fine climate, sugar and cocoa were readily grown and exported. While the children may well have been forwarded to Sào Tomé Island, the possibility clearly exists that the island described is Santiago, the major island of Cape Verde where Jews were already living. They, too, would be forcibly con-

verted. The description of the islands makes Santiago more likely than Sào Tomé. The proximity to Portugal, the supply station nature of the colony and the needs of shipping, made certain that Cape Verde was a port of call if not the final destination for these 2000 children.

Mozambique Mozambique, named for an Arab town, was discovered for the Portuguese in 1498 by Vasco da Gama. The first settlement was not until 1508. In 1897 Lourenzo Marques became the important port. Originally it was only a way station established in 1514. Until 1878, with abolition, slavery was an important industry. The Portuguese vied with the Dutch. Jews did arrive until after abolition. Most of the Jews of Mozambique settled in Lourenzo Marques including the Cohen family and the Cagi family. Their small cemetery is in old Lourenzo Marques. The Zaffrany family is also represented. Many were interrelated. Rabbi David Zaqury of Mogador had married Orovida Alkaim Pinto a descendent of the great Zaddiqim of the Pinto family. Their granddaughter Sofia Zafrani married Abraham Cagi, son of Israel Cagi and Mary Serfaty who had 15 children. Sophia Zaffrany Cagi (note variant spelling) and her sister-in-law Judith Amzalak Cagi, wife of Fortunato Cagi, were the centers of society. The original Buzaglo family of Azores sent some of their descendents to Mozambique. Esther Regina Buzaglo who died and is burned in Porto Amelia, Mozambique, was the daughter of Mair Buzaglo and Merita Amzalak. Her maternal grandmother was Esther Benoliel who was born in 1832 in Gibraltar. Esther had married Dr. Luis Feio Folque and had a daughter, Maria Helena. The community never really developed. There may have been very few Jewish women in Mozambique, but they may have been a large percentage of the female white setders.

Angola The Catholic Church began its missionary work in Angola in 1491 and controlled all education until 1908. This limited Jewish setdements. In isolated Catumbela, Iria identified 12 Jewish tombstone. However only one is clearly Sephardic and that one is of a child. The tombstone of Mosé Israel age 5 born on the Islands of Rhodes to Haim Israel and Amelia Capelluto died in an accident on board a ship, Dunno Tar Casde, and is buried and covered with a stone with some Hebrew inscriptions. Iria includes others tombstones which he defines as Jewish despite Christological symbols and phrases because they have biblical first names or German inscriptions.

Benguela There is a small Jewish cemetery almost all from two families: Benoliel and Fresco. The Benoliel family is connected with the city of Tangier as well as Tetuan. Jacob Benoliel moved from Tetuan to Lisbon in 1898 and married Esther and had 4 sons. Solomon Jacob Benoliel spent some time in Mozambique as did Moses, whose son Jacob was born there. José Jacob Benoliel lived

in Mozambique, but died in Angola. His brother Aaron Jacob Benoliel a bachelor was also part of the small community and was at the Berit of Moses Levy Ayash son of Ruben Bendrao Ayash and Mercedes Levy. Samuel Wahnon, of whom little is known, as well as Salomon Hilel Nahon, who died at age 25, are also buried there. The other major family was the Fresco family, originally of Constandnople. Abraham Fresco and his wife, Merian, had moved to Lisbon early in the century. Their two sons, Nissim and Judah Leon, were born in Constandnople. Leon had seven children; Nissim only 4. The first, Alberto Abraham, was born in Constandnople. He died at age 68 in Benguela. He was a naturalized Portuguese in 1923 and worked for the Banco Nacional Ultramarino. Moses Jacob Benaliel also lived in Mozambique with his wife Julia Bensabat. Their son Jacob Moses Benoliel was born in Lourenzo Marques and circumcized 3 weeks later Rev. Samuel Pincus of Durban, South Africa arrived. The Padirnos were Salomon Jacob Benoliel, the uncle and Fortunata, the wife of Samuel Benoliel. The others in the community included Isaac E. Abejdid and Abraham Cagi both local merchants as well as Jose Jacob Benoliel, Salomon E. Abejdid (Isaac's brother) and Aaron L. Bendahan. An interesting tombstone is that of Maria Teresa. Burnay who died at age 38. The tombstone reads: Maria Teresa Krus Abecasi Burney 1921-1959 Amanel como Rachel, Sabia Como Rebeca, Leal Como Sarah. Others include members of the Bendraö family of Tangier including Luna, Sara, Marcos and Suzana.

Luanda Amzalak family prominendy of Lisbon and Leon had married Mary Abudarhan of Gibraltar. The family was in commercial shipping as part of the family firm of Isaac Amzalaq & Irmaös responsible shippers from Sao Tome-Angola route, other commercial shippers included Isaac Zagury & Campa. Isaac Amzalak was born in Lisbon and was an agriculturalist in Sao Tome. He entered into a partnership with his brother Jacob Amzalak in the commercial shipping route between Sao Tome and Angola. Isaac Zagury was a descendent of the 2nd Jewish marriage in Portugal. He married an English woman Fany and eventual died in Liverpool. His company was one of the most prominent Jewish companies in Angola. Abraham Benchimol was also an important ship supplier on the Cape Verde-Angola route his family had moved from Tangier to the Azores. Bensaude & Co. was involved in the shipping from England to Angola. Bensaude family was established in the Azores when Abraham Bensaude of Rabat moved there. He is the first recorded Jew in the Azores. Abraham Bensaude married Esther Nathan in 1837 in the Bevis Marks Synagogue, London. José Amzalak was the 6th child of the Leon Amzalah and Mary Ahudraham. He was born in Lisbon in 1847. He had 2 legitimate children in Angola. A son Alfredo was born in 1876 in Luando and married Simy Cohen, daughter of Simon Cohen and Rosa Azulay. They had four daughters.

Marcos Zaguy was also a businessman and early pioneer in 1894 and supported the Portuguese expedition into the interior. Mordechay, as he was known, was born in Azores in 1857. He was considered a Portuguese national in 1894, but was in fact a British subject. His father served as the rabbi of the community of S. Miguel on the Azores. His sister was Felicidade Zaffray of Lourenzo Marques.

References Albecassis, J. M. 1995. Geneologia Hebraica. Lisbon. Blake, J. W. 1942. Europeans in West-Africa 1480-1560. London. Cardoso, Isaac. 1679. Las excellencias de tos bebreos. Amsterdam.

Carreira, A. 1984. Os Portuguese nos rios de Guine 1500-1900. Lisbon. Da Costa, Isaac. 1850. Israel and the Gentiles. London: James Nisbet & Co.

De Azevedo, L. 1921. Historia dos Christaos Noms Portugueses. Lisbon. Iria, A. 1979. Judeus em Mocambique, Angola e Cabo Verde. Lisbon: Memoria da Academica das Ciencias de Lisboa.

Lobban, R. 1995. Cape Verde: Crioulo Colony to Independent Nation. Boulder: Westview. Roth, C. 1935. A History of the Marranos. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society. Serels, M. M. 1991. A History of the Jews of Tangier. Brooklyn, NY: Sepher Hermon Press.

, 1997. Jews of Cape Verde: A Brief History. Brooklyn, NY: Sepher Hermon Press. Usque, Samuel. Consolation for the Tribulation of Israel. Transi. Martin A. Cohen. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1965.

HACIA UNA TIPOLOGÎA MUSICAL DEL CANCIONERO SEFARDI EDWIN SEROUSSI U n i v e r s i d a d d e Bar-Ilan, R a m a t G a n , Israel

Introducciôn La música del cancionero sefardi (poemas en Ladino transmiddos oralmente en forma cantada) ha sido tratada generalmente a la sombra de los estudios literarios de este repertorio tradicional. Pardcularmente notable es la inclination de la musicologia sefardi a aceptar, sin mayor cridca, apologias basadas en criterios morfolôgicos o de contenido lingûisdco usados en el anâlisis literario, y que se reflejan en la terminologia usada en estudios musicales, como romance, copia, canciôn, etc. Más aûn, la dicotomia entre repertorios musicales "religiosos" y "seculares," aplicada casi automâticamente en estudios de música sefardi, no dene siempre una justification lôgica desde el punto de vista puramente musical. Por medio del anâlisis de un ejemplo concreto, se propone aqui un paradigma con miras hacia una tipologîa musical del cancionero sefardi. Este paradigma se basa en la idea de la independencia estructural, semiôdca, geogrâfica e historica del componente musical de la tradiciôn lirica sefardi. Tal independencia se pone en evidencia al analizar la melodia en forma aislada del texto literario. Los prolificos estudios musicolôgicos del cancionero sefardi llevados a cabo en los ultimas très décadas nos dan una pauta de la necesidad metodolôgica de tal paradigma. Sabemos, por ejemplo, que una misma estructura musical puede ser adaptada a textos de diferentes géneros literarios o en lenguas diferentes (Ladino/Hebreo), o al contrario, que un mismo texto puede ser cantado con melodias diferentes. Nos encontramos también con el hecho de que el contenido significativo de la melodia adoptada puede ser incongruente con el contenido del texto al cual está acoplada. Finalmente, los origenes histôricos y geogrâficos de la melodia no tienen vinculaciôn necesaria con el periodo de composition del texto al cual acompana. Podemos agregar que, desde el punto de vista musical, el cancionero sefardi es mucho mâs ecléctico que su équivalente literario. Las raices de este eclecticismo se encuentran en el constante proceso de adaptaciôn de "textos" musicales inspirados o directamente copiados de las culturas musicales circundantes no-judias. Este proceso no es nuevo. Está claramente documentado en las colecciones manuscritas e impresas de poesias religiosas hebreas desde el siglo XVI en adelante, en las cuâles se recoge el uso de melodias turcas, árabes, griegas, persas, espanolas, francesas e italianas por parte de los poetas y cantantes sefardies de Oriente (Seroussi and Weich-Shahak 1990-1). El hecho que no poseamos documentation escrita sobre estas adaptaciones melôdicas forâneas en el cancionero en Ladino en su periodo formativo (siglos XVI al XVIII) no quiere

decir que tal proceso no haya tenido lugar. En cambio, si poseemos information más précisa sobre las fuentes musicales de los estratos mâs recientes del cancionero sefardi, como lo demuestran estudios publicados ùltimamente (véase: Cohen 1990; Petrovic 1993; Seroussi 1990, 1995, 1999; Weich-Shahak 1995, 1998). Esta documentation refleja la gran variedad de fuentes musicales en la canciôn sefardi contemporânea. E n resumen, para desarrollar una tipologia musical auténdca del repertorio sefardi es necesario desatarse de las "cadenas" conceptuales derivadas de los estudios literarios.

Una canciôn patriôtica turca en el repertorio sefardi Para demostrar el potencial del propuesto paradigma, presentamos un ejemplo caracterisdco de los procesos de creaciôn musical sefardi que pretendemos analizar. Se trata de la melodia de la canciôn patriôtica turca Ey vatan, ey ummi musfik ("Oh mi patria, oh mi amada madré"), compuesta por Rifat Bey en ocasiôn de la declaration de la primera constitution otomana en el ano 1876. Esta canciôn de tipo himno se puso aún mâs en boga en el ano 1908, durante la segunda revuelta de los jôvenes turcos y la aprobaciôn de la segunda constitution otomana. La melodia, en el makam (modo musical) turco Nihavent, fue publicada en notation musical por el famoso musicôlogo y compositor turco Rauf Yekta Bey (Yekta Bey 1922). Esta melodia fue adoptada por los sefardies de Oriente, aparentemente no mucho después de que fuera compuesta, en un proceso que pone de relieve los elementos bàsicos de la creatividad musical sefardi y la consecuente necesidad de tratar al estrato musical independientemente del estrato literario, por lo menos en una primera instancia.

La melodia turca en el repertorio musical religioso de los sefardies La documentation mâs antigua de esta melodia turca en fuentes musicales sefardies escritas la encontramos en el campo de la música 1itúrgica. En el volumen IV del Thesaurus of Oriental-Hebrew Melodies de Abraham Z. Idelsohn (1922), aparece la melodia de Ey vatan adaptada al himno liturgico Ado η 'olam (p. 148, no. 57). Medio siglo mâs tarde, publica Isaac Levy (1964, no. 154) una adaptaciôn de la misma melodia al texto Odekha ki 'anitani (Salmo 118, v. 21-22) que forma parte del Hallet, los salmos para dias festivos. Levy grabô esta melodia de un informante oriundo de Esmirna, residente de la ciudad de Rosario en Argentina. Como dato interesante, agregaremos que el ja%án (cantor sinagogal) de la Spanish-Portuguese Shearith Israel Congregation de la ciudad de Nueva York, el reverendo Abraham Lopes Cardozo, oriundo de Amsterdam, publico en su libro Sephardi Songs of Praise (1987) una version de nuestra melodia adaptada al texto de la copia sefardi Dia de alhad, que abre con el verso "Al Dio alto con su gracia." Esta copia, famosisima entre los sefardies de Turquia y de Salônica, se canta generalmente con una melodia tradicional diferente en makam Hüseyni registrada ya en discos anriguos de 78 rpm por los famosos cantantes sefardies Isaac Algazi y Haim Efendi a principios de siglo. La version publicada por Lopes Cardozo tiene sus origenes en el hakham Salomon Gaon, oriundo de Sa-

rajevo, gran rabino del Imperio Británie0, que se radicô en Nueva York como decano de estudios sefardies en la Yeshiva University. De él aprendiô Lopes Cardozo esta copia que, como bien sabemos, no forma parte de la tradiciôn literaria judeo-portuguesa de la Europa occidental a la cual Cardozo pertenece, pero si de la tradiciôn sefardi balcânica de Gaon. Según Lopes Cardozo (1987: 62), la melodia es similar a la de "un himno secular griego." Más tarde retornaremos a la relaciôn de esta melodia con otras tradiciones musicales no-judias, como la musulmana de Bosnia-Hercegovina. Por ahora solo observamos que este ejemplo de transmisiôn oral a nivel de personalidades especificas pone en evidencia el papel de individuos en la créaciôn de la tradiciôn musical sefardi. Desde esta perspectiva, el contenido del concepto de "tradiciôn" cobra una dimension diferente al comûn usado en la literatura musicolôgica sefardi y por consecuencia afecta a cualquier tipologîa musical. N o estamos, en este caso, en presencia de un legado ancestral transmitido fielmente por una masa social anônima por un extenso periodo de tiempo, sino que se nos présenta un momento ûnico de creatividad musical local con principio y final cronolôgicamente determinables. Ahora bien, la expansion de la melodia turca en la mûsica religiosa sefardi del Mediterrâneo oriental es mâs intensa que lo que se mani fiesta en las pocas fuentes escritas que hemos citado. Nuestra reciente encuesta de campo comprueba que está difundida enormemente en las sinagogas sefardies de Jerusalén. Ezra Barnea, director del Instituto Renanot y un experto en la ja^anut sefardi jerosolimitana, atestigua que esta melodia es frecuentemente usada hasta nuestros dias en la liturgia los sàbados en los cuâles el maqam árabe que rige la mûsica del servicio es Nahawand (el makam original turco de la melodia es su congénere Nihaven(). Segûn Barnea, la melodia aparece originalmente en el repertorio para-litûrgico sefardi oriental adaptada al piymon (canciôn religiosa) Ra'ayoni yahid de Rafael Antébi ("Tabush") un legendario bardo ciego oriundo de Alepo, que inmigrô a Jerusalén a principios del siglo XX. El texto de Ra'ayoniyahid, cuyo acrôstico es "Refael," está incluido en la colecciôn de pi^monim compuestos por Antébi y titulada Shir u-shvahah (primera ediciôn, Jerusalén 1905). El mismo poema reaparece en la refundiciôn mâs popular de pi^monim de Jerusalén, el libro Shirei %imrah (Jerusalem, primera ediciôn 1936; nueva ediciôn 1953, p. 241) que compilé Shaul Abud. En ambos casos este piymon está catalogado bajo el maqam árabe, Nahawand. Esta canciôn se canta, dentro y fuera de la sinagoga, en diversas ocasiones fesuvas, como ser en shabbat hatan (sàbado del novio). El dtulo del poema de Antébi en Shirei \imrab incluye una indication musical adicional a la del maqam, la cual lee: lahan musiqa (literalmente: "melodia de mûsica"). Sabemos hoy que este extrano rôtulo, el cual aparece con bastante frecuencia en compendios de pi^monim, alude a piezas instrumentales del repertorio turco. Estas las podian escuchar los cantores sefardies cuando eran interpretadas por las orquestas militares turcas que, durante la época imperial, entretenían cada domingo a los pobladores de las villas, incluida Jerusalén.

Segûn Bamea, la popularidad de esta melodia turca en el repertorio para-liturgico sefardi de Jerusalén, llevô también a que los ja^anim la adaptaran a textos de la liturgia normadva, como ser Nishmat kol hay, Qaddish, y Qedushah. Esto ocurre en los sàbados en los cuales la música de la liturgia se basa en el maqam árabe Nahawand.

La melodia turca en el cancionero sefardi "secular" La adaptaciôn de la melodia de una canciôn de contenido patriôdco a himnos religiosos como Ado π 'olam, Ra'ayoniyabid y otros textos liturgicos, dene un senddo semândco bastante claro. El senddo de dignidad y decoro que tal mûsica acarrea en su contexto socio-cultural original, contribuye a su adaptaciôn a textos religiosos. En varias tradiciones sefardies encontramos, efectivamente, el uso de otras canciones patriôdcas o himnos nacionales en el canto religioso, como el himno griego en Rodhes (Hemsi 1995: 27), el himno francés "La Marsellesa" entre los judios de Djerba, el himno britânico "God Save the King" (en la sinagoga Espanola-Portuguesa de Londres) ο úkimamente el himno israeli, "Hadkvá" (por ejemplo, entre los judios de Siria en los Estados Unidos). Pero el significado de dignidad asociado con la melodia de la canciôn patriôdca turca Ey vatan no puede jusdficar a primera vista sus adaptaciones en el cancionero sefardi llamado "secular." A modo de ejemplo, encontramos esta melodia adaptada a cuatro textos incluidos en la antologia de Levy (1971, nos. 85-87; 1973, n° 82). Algunos de estos textos son tradicionales, y otros, relativamente modernos. El primer texto es una version de solo cuatro versos del romance antiguo El villano vil de la tradiciôn de Jerusalén. Este romance fue documentado por Abraham Yakob Yonà en Saloniki en el ano 1913 y mâs tarde por Alberto Hemsi en Cassaba, Rodes y Esmirna. La segunda canciôn que utiliza la melodia de Ey vatan fue también documentada por Levy en Jerusalén. Se trata de La venganza de la noma abandonada, un texto tràgico de amor, traiciôn, celos y muerte en el estilo del sharki turco que recoge también Atdas (1972, no. 71), mejor conocida en la version cuyo primer verso lee "Povereta muchachica." La tercera adaptaciôn, ha escuela de la Alian^a (otra canciôn de tipo sharki), es el caso mâs difundido de esta melodia turca en la tradiciôn oral sefardi. Levy publico la version mâs comûn de esta canciôn que incluye solamente dos estrofas. Del Proyecto Folklor de la emisora Kol Israel poseemos versiones diferentes y mâs complétas de la que publico Levy. Hay también varias grabaciones en los fondos de la Fonoteca Nacional en Jerusalén todas realizadas por Susana Weich Shahak: de Hayyim Dassa de Saloniki (Yc 1215 [6] del 8/6/1977, Y 2090 [56] del 5/5/1977, la ultima junto con Henrietta Trabolos); del jerosolimitano Israel Peretz (Yc 2065 [27] del 9/3/1983); de Pepo Salem de Saloniki (Y 5977b [26]); y de Esterica Sadikario—Maestro de Saloniki (Y 6129a [7] del 25/10/1993). Las dos ultimas versiones se mencionan en el citado ardeulo de Weich-Shahak (1998: 99—100). Poseemos entre todas las versiones cinco estrofas en total. El hecho relatado en esta canciôn no queda muy claro. La atmôsfera es parôdica y aparentemente se refiere a un caso (veridico?) de amor entre una(s)

mujer(es) judia(s), generalmente Lealucha, y un(os) hombre(s) no judio(s), sea el Pashá, Nessim Efendi or Kerim Efendi. La referenda a la escuela de la Alianza parece indicar que el texto es original de Jerusalén ο de Saloniki, dos ciudades donde las escuelas de esta red jugaron un papel central en la vida comunitaria sefardi. Segûn cl cantante Hayyim Dassa el marafet de la primera estrofa es un "anuncio." Pero se trata mâs bien del vocablo turco, mirafet, el cual se puede entender como un hecho inteligente o adivinanza (quizás en un senddo "picaresco"). He aqui dos de las versiones mâs complétas de esta canciôn (retenemos las ortografias originales):

La escuela de la Alianza V e r s i o n d e Levy 1971, n o . 85, J e r u s a l e m E n la excola d e l'Alianza quitaron un marafet, ni los c h i c o s ni los g r a n d e s n o lo p u e d e n e n t e n d e r . Abaxo K h a m Iskhacuchu a la p u e r t a del paxá, la t o p o a Lialucha con un m a z o de condjas. V e r s i o n d e K o l Israel, P r o y e c t o F o l k l o r 0 6 7 / 2 4 — c a n t a d a p o r Z e h a v a Saba E n la escola d e l'Alianza kitaron u n m a r a f e t , ni los c h i c o s ni los g r a n d e s n o lo p u e d e n e n t e n d e r . Ya b a s h ô H a m i s h a k o c h o c o n el m a s o d e k o n d j a s , ke se lo d i o K e r i m e f f e n d i namorado de Djandja. Asi biba Lealucha, ken te d i o este k o n d j a ? M e lo d i o K e r i m e f f e n d i n a m o r a d o de Djandja. T r a i m e u n k o p o d'agua k o n un k o p o verdoli, ke m e v e n las estrellas y el cielo shikh mavi.

El cuarto y ûltimo texto adaptado a la melodia turca que Levy recoge de un informante de Esmirna es Oh, que tiempo muj hermoso. La canciôn aparece en la colecciôn de poesia judeoespanola popular El buquieto de romansas, publicada en Estambul en el ano 1925/6. Esta version se cantaba aparentemente con mûsica diferente, ya que el editor indica como makam Eerahnak lo cual difiere de nuestra melodia turca en makam Nihavent. Las versiones de Attias y de Levy son casi idéndcas con la publicada en El buquieto de romansas, lo que parece indicar no

solo el origen literario culto relativamente moderno de esta canciôn, sino tarnbién su copia textual por parte de estos dos coleccionistas. El argumento de Attias (1972: 45) concerniente al trasfondo proletario de esta canciôn (por su supuesta relaciôn con el Primero de Mayo insinuado segûn Atrias en el verso "el mes de mayo vino") es inaceptable. El texto célébra la llegada de la primavera y su estilo nos recuerda el de las poesias de autor publicadas en los periôdicos en Ladino a principios de este siglo.

Discusiôn El estudio de la melodia turca Ej vatan en el repertorio litûrgico y en el cancionero en lengua sefardi demuestra los aspectos translingûisdcos (o sea el uso de la misma melodia para canciones en Ladino y en Hebreo), intertextuales (o sea que el uso de una misma melodia agrupa a textos sefardies de contenido totalmente diferente) y tradicionalizantes (o sea la rapidisima divulgation de una melodia reladvamente moderna [1876] y su posterior tradicionalizaciôn entre los sefardies de regiones diferentes) de la mûsica sefardi. Estas caracteristicas demuestran la necesidad de un modelo analidco musical independiente de modelos literarios. Analicemos los cuatro niveles del proceso de adaptation musical: 1. Nivel estructural: todas las poesias hebreas o judeoespanolas cantadas con nuestra melodia se componen de cuartetas octosilabas de rima aaab o abab y coinciden, por lo tanto, con la estructura textual del himno turco. E n el caso de Nishmat kol hay y otras oraciones hebreas en prosa, se impone la estructura musical, dividiendo el texto en "versos" de un nûmero similar de silabas. La "imposiciôn" de la melodia sobre el texto litûrgico es, en estos casos, generada por la superestructura musical "macámica" del servicio religioso. A pesar de la congruencia estructural entre el texto original turco y los textos hebreos y judeoespanoles, la adaptaciôn de la melodia genera cambios en ella (ver tabla de ejemplos musicales). Los cambios estructurales musicales mâs importantes de la version original turca son: a) la omisiôn, en la gran mayoria de las adaptaciones sefardies, de la repetition de la segunda parte de la melodia (AB en vez de ABB‫ ;)׳‬b) el comienzo en todas las versiones hebreas y judeoespanolas difiere del original de Rifat Bey, que comienza con un motivo caracteristico del makam turco (salto de quinta); c) hay cambios ritmicos a todos los niveles (véase especialmente el rubato al final de Adon 'olam), y cambios de métrica musical. Estos cambios construyen la peculiar identidad musical sefardi de esta melodia. 2. Nivel simbôlico. Un primer nivel de representation simbôlica es de tipo icônico. El tema de la lealtad a la madre patria en la canciôn turca es canjeado por la fidelidad a Dios en los himnos hebreos. El segundo nivel de representaciôn simbôlica es, en mi opinion, de dpo satirico. La sátira se nota especialmente en la canciôn ‫־‬La escuela de la Alianya, la mâs difundida de todas las que usan la melodia Ey vatan. El embarazoso caso de una mujer judia flirteando con el pashá o el effendi cantado al son de la ceremonial melodia litûrgica, no puede mâs que crear una impresiôn de ridiculez entre los miembros de la sociedad sefardi que

son capaccs de entender el côdigo original de la melodia (el tema de la lealtad). Por lo menos en este caso, creemos que el proceso de adaptaciôn de la melodia turca a la canciôn sefardi no fue directamente de la version turca original, sino por intermedio de una de las versiones litûrgicas hebreas. 3. Nivel histôrico: la melodia que data de 1876 aproximadamente es adaptada a textos sefardies de diferentes sustratos tradicionales (romances), clàsicos (coplas) y modernos (canciones). Ο sea que diferentes estratos diacrônicos de la literatura sefardi se agrupan bajo una misma estructura musical. 4. Nivel geogrâfico: el uso de esta melodia desafia a las definiciones de "tradiciones" musicales sefardies segûn criterios geogrâficos. Mâs bien, la melodia irradia una imagen pan-otomana e incluso pan-étnica (debido a su uso por los musulmanes). Una dpologia musical sefardi dene, en conclusion, que atenerse a los géneros musicales de los cuales emanan las melodias adaptadas al cancionero, a la liturgia o a ambos al mismo dempo. Ey vatan es un ejemplo del género himnôdico/marcha, del cual encontramos varios casos mâs en el repertorio sefardi. Melodias de este género han penetrado en el repertorio sefardi paralelamente al desarrollo de las emergentes enddades étnico-nacionales que acompanaron al proceso de desintegraciôn del Imperio Otomano. Adaptadas generalmente en el repertorio religioso, las melodias de este dpo pueden también acomodarse, como hemos visto, a textos "profanos." Finalmente, podemos entretener en base a este estudio la idea de la idenddad trans- o inter-étnica de la cultura musical sefardi en el Imperio Otomano. El uso de la melodia Ey vatan como base musical para canciones de otros grupos étnicos está, efectivamente, testimoniada en Bosnia donde la melodia turca goza de gran difusiôn en contextos seculares y religiosos, asi como también en Macedonia (Weich-Shahak 1998: 99). Asi vemos, que desde el punto de vista del paradigma que hemos presentado hoy, la mûsica es un hecho cultural que trasciende las fronteras de los grupos étnico/religiosos del Imperio Otomano. Si 11eváramos este argumento ad absurdum, en base a casos como Ey vatan, podriamos concluir que, al contrario del parâmetro lingûisdco/literario, la tradiciôn musical sefardi tendria que ser estudiada como parte de una unidad geo-cultural que trasciende a la comunidad judia. Sin embargo, nuestro caso demuestra, al mismo dempo, la existencia de una sutil dialécdca intercultural en la tradiciôn musical pan-otomana, dialécdca en la cual el comûn denominador inter-étnico dene como contrapeso la creadvidad especifica de cada comunidad, como en el caso de la de los sefardies otomanos.

Referencias Attias, M. 1972. Cancionero sefardi. jerusalén. Cohen, J. 1990. "Musical Bridges, The Contrafact Tradition in Judeo-Spanish Songs." Cultural Marginality in the Western Mediterranean. Ed. F. Gerson and A. Percival. Toronto, 121-127. Hemsi, A. 1995. Cancionero sefardi. Ed. with an introduction by E. Seroussi in collaboration with P. Diaz-Mas, J. M. Pedrosa and E. Romero. Jerusalén. Levy, I. 1964. Antologia de la liturgiajudeoespanola. Vol. 1. Jerusalén. , 1971. Chantsjudéo-espagnols. Vol. 3. Jerusalén. , 1973. Chantsjudéo-espagnols. Vol. 4. Jerusalén. Lopes Cardozo, A. 1987. Sephardic Songs of Praise according to the Spanish-Portuguese Tradition as Sung in the Synagogue and at Home. New York. Petrovic, A. 1990. "Correlation Between the Musical Content of Sephardic Songs and Traditional Muslim Lyrics Sevdalinka in Bosnia." Proceedings of the Tenth World Congress of Jewish Studies, Division D, 2, 165—171. Seroussi, E. 1990. "The Growth of the Judeo-Spanish Folksong Repertory in the 20 ,h Century." Proceedings of the Tenth World Congress of Jewish Studies, Division D, 2, 173180. , 1995. "Reconstructing Sephardi Music in the 20 th Century: Isaac Levy and his Chants judeoespagnols." The World of Music (Jewish Musical Culture—Past and Present) 37, no. 1, 39-58. , 1999. "Mekorot ha-musiqa shel ha-shir be-ladino." (Fuentes musicales de la canciôn en Ladino) Pe'amim 77 (en prensa). Seroussi, E.-Weich-Shahak, S. 1990-1. "Judeo-Spanish Contrafacts and Musical Adaptations. The Oral Tradition." Orbis Musicae 10, 164-194. Weich-Shahak, S. 1995. "Le tango séfarade." In Tango nomade. Ed. R. Pelinski. Montréal: Tryptique, 255-269. , 1998. "Adaptations and Borrowings in the Balkan Sephardic Repertoire." Balkanisti« 1 1 , 87-125. Yekta Bey, R. 1922. "La musique turque." Encyclopédie de la Musique et Dictionnaire du Conservatoire. Ed. A. Lavignac, Paris, Pt. 1, vol. 5, 2945-3064.

Tabla de ejemplos musicales 1) Osmanli Kanunu Esasi, Yekta Bey 1922; 2) A don 'olam, Idelsohn 1924, n° 57; 3) El Di€ alto, Lopes Cardozo 1987: 62; 4) Odekha ki ,anitani, Levy 1964, n° 154; 5) La escuela de la Alian^a, Levy 1971, n° 85; 6) La vengança de la novia abandonada. Levy 1973, n° 82.

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E L JUDEOESPANOL DE TESALÔNICA EN CONTACTO CON LA LENGUA GRIEGA INVESTIGACIÔN SOBRE EJEMPLOS FONETICOS SELECCIONADOS

HARALAMBOS SYMEONIDIS Westfälische Wilhelms-Universität Münster, Germany

A través de ejemplos seleccionados en mi investigation realizada en el verano de 1995 en la ciudad de Tesalônica, procuraré representar no tanto el conjunto de las caracterîsdcas fonédcas del judeoespanol sino ciertas caracterîsdcas opuestas a semejantes caracterîsdcas del sistema fonédco griego. Sin embargo, antes de exponer los resultados conviene resaltar ciertos aspectos histôricos que no han sido suficientemente senalados y que jusdfican la hipôtesis de un contacto entre el judeoespanol y el griego en Tesalônica. Durante casi cinco siglos Tesalônica estuvo poblada por très grupos étnicos y religiosos: por los judeoespafioles, los griegos y los turcos. Hasta hoy se ha puesto en duda el posible contacto lingüisdco entre la poblaciôn hispanôfona y helenôfona a través de relaciones mercantiles o socioculturales que exisdan entre dichos grupos, dado que vivian en diferentes barrios de la misma ciudad. De todos modos no es posible que viviendo en el mismo territorio no se hubiera establecido ningun tipo de intercambio entre dichos grupos.

Factores en los que se basa la hipôtesis de un contacto entre el judeoespanol y el griego 1. La mayoria de la poblaciôn griega y su duplication hasta los principios del siglo XVI en Tesalônica desde la conquista de dicha ciudad por los turcos (1430). 2. La instalaciôn de las primeras oleadas de sefardies en el barrio de Ayia Pelaguîa (Αγία Πελαγία) exclusivamente poblado por griegos (Δημητριάδης 1983: 48). 3. La existencia de unas comunidades judias de origen griego (Romaniotas) y su primer contacto con los sefardies a la llegada de los ùltimos a Tesalônica. 4. La resistencia del elemento romaniota contra la asimilaciôn con los sefardies hasta los principios del siglo XVII, cuando se juntaron todas las comunidades de los romaniotas en una gran comunidad (Παπάζογλου 1994: 39). Además, la conservaciôn de su cultura a través de propias escuelas, bibliotecas, etc. 5. La creaciôn de barrios mezclados (con judios, griegos y turcos) a finales del siglo XIX como resultado de la igualdad de derechos de todas la minorias proclamada por el Imperio O t o m a n o a mediados de dicho siglo (1856) (Μόλχο 1992/94: 73).

6. La notable influencia de la cultura y lengua griegas durante siglos sobre la Peninsula Ba1cánica: desde la division del Imperio Romano (395) hasta el fin del Imperio Bizantino (1453). El contacto de los sefardies con los griegos o también con otros grupos étnicos que durante siglos habian vivido bajo la influencia del griego, lengua de administration, education y comunicaciôn en la region de los Balcanes (Dietrich 1995: 22-24).

Vocalismo Una caracteristica importante del vocalismo judeoespanol de Tesalônica es el carácter consonântico de la vocal [u] en las combinaciones con la [a], [e] e [i], en las cuâles la [u] está siempre en segunda position. Este fenômeno ha sido primero senalado también por otros invesrigadores (Lamouche 1907: 976). Ej.: jsp.: ['kavza]

sp.: causa ['kausa]

jsp.: ['devöa]

sp.: deuda ['deuöa]

jsp.: [si'vôa]

sp.: ciudad [Oiw'öaö]

jsp.:[e'vropa]

sp.: europa [eu'ropa]

[au], [eu], [iu] > [aw], [ew], [iw] > [av], [ev], [iv]. La [u] se desarrolla primero, como se ve en esos diptongos, a la semivocal velar [w], que por su parte pierde su carácter vocâlico y se desarrolla a la fricativa labiodental [v]. El hecho de que este fenômeno se encuentre solo en el judeoespanol de Tesalônica y no en otras comunidades sefardies prueba que no se trata de una caracteristica del espanol medieval. Desde la época helenistica se puede observar en la lengua griega un desarrollo igual en cuanto a la [u] en los diptongos con [a] y [e], Primero ocurre una deslabialization de la semivocal velar [w] en los diptongos <αυ> y <ευ> y mâs tarde pierde este sonido su carácter vocâlico. Asi aparecen en el sistema fonético griego taies diptongos: [av], [af] y [ev], [ef], Por ej.: gr.: αυγό

[av'yo] "huevo"

gr.: αυτοκίνητο [afto'kinito] "coche"

gr.: ευγενικός [evyeni'kos] "amable" gr.: ευχαριστώ [efxari'sto] "gracias"

N o se puede decir claramente si se trata de una influencia directa del griego sobre el judeoespanol en esa region. Está claro de todos modos, que los sefardies de Tesalônica vivian en la misma ciudad, donde también vivian griegos y turcos. Este desarrollo fonético se observa también en el rumano y en el meglenorumano lo cual, segûn el estudio de Wolf Dietrich, es una influencia griega sobre estos idiomas (Dietrich 1995: 209). Se puede suponer que en este caso se trata de una influencia o directa del griego sobre el judeoespanol o indirecta a través del contacto de los hablantes sefardies con el rumano y meglenorumano.

Consonantismo La fricativizaciön de las oclusivas so noras Tanto en el castellano medieval como en el judeoespanol de Tesalônica se distingue la pronunciaciôn de los grafemas < b > y : < b > tiene el carácter de la oclusiva bilabial sonora [b], mientras que < v > tiene el valor de la fricativa labiodental sonora [v], La misma característica de esos sonidos se observa también en el judeoespanol de Estambul (Wagner 1914: 97). Se observa en el judeoespanol de Tesalônica que en position intervocâlica la oclusiva bilabial [b] aparece como la fricativa bilabial sonora [ß] como es la norma en el castellano de hoy. Por ej.: jsp.: [a'ßia]

sp.: habia [ a ' ß i a ] jsp.: [ a ' ß l a ß a ]

jsp.: [ e ' s t a ß a n ] sp.: estaban [ e ' s t a ß a n ] sp.: hablaba [ a ' ß l a ß a ]

Sin embargo, en el judeoespanol de Tesalônica aparece una tendencia de fricativizaciôn no solo de la oclusiva bilabial sonora sino de todas la oclusivas sonoras en todas las posiciones Por ej.: jsp.: [ o ß l i ' Y a ö a ]

jsp.: [ma er! ' y r e y o ]

sp.: obligada [ o ß l i ' y a ö a ]

sp.: sino en griego [ s i ' n o er) ' g r i e y o ]

jsp.: [ o k a ' s j o n öe]

jsp.: [ p e r ' s o n a s ' g r a n d e s ]

sp.: ocasiôn de [ o k a ' s j o n d e ]

sp.: personas grandes [per'sonas 'grandes]

jsp.: [ e q y r a n d e ' s j e r o n ]

jsp.: [ y w a ' r ö a ö o ]

sp.:engrandecieron[eggrande'0jeron]

sp.: guardado [ g w a ' r ö a ö o ]

Además, la oclusiva bilabial sonora [b] se convierte en la fricativa labiodental sonora [v], por lo menos en los lexemas que eran representados en ladn por el grafema < v > . Eso ocurre también si una consonante va antepuesta a este sonido. Por ej.: jsp.: [i v i ' j i e r o n ]

jsp.: [no v i ' v i ]

sp.: y vinieron [i ß i ' n i e r o n ]

sp.: no viví [no ß i ' ß i ]

jsp.: [al v e n t i ' ö o s ]

jsp.: [ e ' s t a n v i ' j i e n d o ]

sp.: el veinte y dos [el ' ß e j n t e i ' ö o s ]

sp.: estan viniendo [ e ' s t a m b i ' n i e n d o ]

La fricativizaciön de las oclusivas sonoras forma una parte muy importante en el sistema fonético griego. Ya en la época de la coiné (Κοινή) aparecen cambios fundamentales en el terreno de las consonantes griegas: las oclusivas sonoras [b, d, g,] se convierten en las fricativas [ß, ö, γ] no solo en position intervocâlica, como mâs tarde en el castellano, sino en todas las posiciones. Mâs tarde ocurre también la mudanza de la oclusiva sonora [b] a la fricativa labiodental sonora [v] tanto en position inicial como intervocâlica (Dietrich 1995: 39, 96-97). Ej.:

βασιλιάς

[vasi'Xas] γεγονός

δώρο "rey" [jeyo'nos]

['öoro]

"regalo"

"acontecimiento"

La fricativizaciôn de las oclusivas en el judeoespanol de Tesalônica se ha intensificado mâs después de que en la II Guerra Mundial la poblaciôn sefardi de Tesalônica diminuyera considerablemente. Los pocos sefardies que sobrevivieron la guerra y la persecution volvieron a Tesalônica, pero teniendo miedo de otras persecuciones, evitaban hablar judeoespanol; la ûnica posibilidad que les quedaba era hablar griego. A través del uso diario de la lengua griega han penetrado posiblemente dichas caracterisdcas fonédcas del sistema griego en el sistema fonético judeoespanol. Con lo cual, tendencias preexistentes en el sistema judeoespanol—en este caso la fricativizaciôn de las oclusivas—se vieron intensificadas por la lengua griega. A veces la [b] no pierde su carácter oclusivo. Eso ocurre en los casos siguientes: a) cuando ese sonido aparece en position intervocâlica a causa de una prefijaciôn. Por ej.: jsp.: [a'baSo]

sp.: abajo

[a'ßaxo]

b) cuando aparece en position intervocâlica en préstamos. Por ej.: jsp.: [ š a ' b a t ] < h e b r . : š a b b a t h

jsp.: [ p o r t u ' g a l ]

jsp.: [ p o r t u ' g a l ]

jsp.: [ma'drid] sp.: Madrid1 [ma'öriö]

sp.: Portugal [ p o r t u ' y a l ]

sp.: Portugal [ p o r t u ' y a l ]

Cuando la [b] va antepuesta a la [1] y la [r] se convierte en la fricativa [ß]. Ej.: jsp.:

[a'ßlar] sp.: hablar [a'ßlar]

jsp.:

[pa'laßra] sp.: palabra [pa'laßra]

La oclusiva dental sonora [d]y la fricativa interdental sonora [ô] La oclusiva dental sonora [d] en position intervocâlica y entre una vocal y la [r] se convierte en la fricativa interdental sonora [ô]. Por ej.: jsp.:[ako'örar]

sp.: acordar[akor'öar] jsp.: ['paöre]

jsp.: ['pweöe] sp.: puede ['pweôe]

sp.: padre ['paôre]

Eso también se puede observar cuando esa consonante aparece en position inicial y se le antepone una palabra que termina en una vocal. Ese cambio ocurre sin embargo en position inicial aûn cuando la palabra antepuesta termina en una consonante. Se trata aqui del fenômeno de la fricativizaciôn que bajo la influencia griega aparece en las oclusivas [b, d, g], Por ej.:

En el caso de los lexemas judeoespanoles [ p o r t u ' g a l ] y [ m a ' d r i d ] se trata de préstamos ο del italiano ο del portugués dado que en ellos no se observa la fricadvizaciôn de las oclusivas sonoras [g] y [d] en posiciôn intervocâlica como también es el caso en el judeoespanol de Tesalônica.

jsp.: ['komo ôe'zirlo] sp.: como decirlo ['komo ôe'Girlo]

jsp: ['uno öe tur'kia] sp.: uno de Turquia ['uno öe tur'kia]

Pero también: Jsp.: [oka'sjon öe] Sp.: ocasiôn de [oka'sjon de]

jsp.: [pu'öimos öar] sp.: pudimos dar [pu'öimos dar]

Se eneuentran también casos en los que en vez de la oclusiva dental sonora aparece la sorda. Por ej.: sp.: [komuni'taA] sp.:comunidad[komuni'öaö] jsp.: [seyuri'ta]

jsp.: [universi'taöes] sp.: universidades [universi'öaöes] sp.: seguridad [seyuri'öaö]

En posiciôn final se observa que este sonido normalmente desaparece. A veces se pronuncia tan débil que no se oye y a veces no se realiza. Por ej. Jsp.: [ver'öa 0 ] sp.: verdad [ber'öaö] jsp.: [bwen'da d ]sp.: bondad [bon'daö] jsp.:[oportuni'öa] sp.: opurtunidad [oportuni'öaö] Los ûldmos dos fenômenos se deben posiblemente a una influencia italiana. Los sefardies de Tesalônica tenian muchas relaciones comerciales con ciudades de la peninsula itâlica, sobre todo con Venecia. Por otro lado, en la poblaciôn sefardi de Tesalônica se encontraba también cierto numéro de judios de Italia. El segundo fenômeno se observa también en ladnoamérica y en muchas regiones de la Peninsula Ibérica; sin embargo, este fenômeno aparece mâs frecuentemente en el judeoespanol de Tesalônica que en el espanol hablado en otras regiones. La tendencia preexistente en el espanol medieval se ha extendido en el judeoespanol de Tesalônica bajo la influencia de la lengua italiana en la cual los lexemas correspondientes no terminan en [ô],

La fricativa palatal sonora [j]y fenômenos de palatalization La fricadva palatal sonora [j] se ha conservado en el judeoespanol de Tesalônica. Sin embargo, su carácter fonédco parece mâs a la vocal palatal [i] que en la mayoria de los casos se realiza tan débil que no se oye. Por ej.: jsp.: ["o] sp.: yo ['jo]

jsp.: [a'u'öante] sp.: ayudante [aju'ôante]

Por otro lado, en otras posiciones aparece esa fricadva que se forma a través de la consonandzaciôn de la vocal palatal [i] en los diptongos [je], [io] e [ja]. La consonandzaciôn de esa vocal ocurre mâs frecuentemente en el judeoespanol que en el castellano de hoy. Por ej.:

jsp.: [respon'djo] sp.: respondiô [respon'djo] jsp.: [kri'stjanos] sp.: cristianos [kri'stjanos]

jsp.: [ku'rjeron] sp.: corrieron [ko'rjeron] jsp.: ['sjenten] sp.: sienten ['sjenten]

Esa tendencia de consonantizaciôn de la vocal palatal [i] en casi todos los casos se debe posiblemente a un contacto del judeoespanol con la lengua griega. En el sistema vocâlico griego se observa una consonantizaciôn de la vocal palatal (Dietrich 1995: 76). Esa aparece como la fricativa palatal sonora, que palataliza la consonante antecedente. Este fenômeno pertenece a las caracteristicas tipicas del sistema fonético griego. La vocal palatal no solo palataliza la lateral y la nasal alveolares sino también a la [k] y [g], incluso a la [m] cuando aparece en la combination [mi] + Vocal. Por ej.: gr.: μοιάζω [ , mjazo]pero también ['mjiazo]

"parecer a alguien"

μια [mja] pero también

"una"

[mjia]

μπάμια ['™bamja]pero también ['""bamj1a] "ketmia, quingombô" La lateral alveolar se palataliza y se convierte en la lateral palatal [X], si aparece en la combination siguiente: [li] + vocal. En este caso se convierte la vocal palatal en una semiconsonante y causa la palatalization de la lateral antecedente: [li] + vocal > [lj] + vocal > [X] + vocal Algunos ejemplos de dicha palatalization de la lateral alveolar en griego son los siguientes: παλιός [pa'Xos]

"viejo"

μαλλιά [ma'Xa] "pelo

En este caso se observa otra vez que una tendencia preexistente del sistema fonético judeoespanol se intensifica por un fenômeno parecido del griego. La palatalization de la consonante antecedente causada por la fricativa palatal sonora es un fenômeno que también ocurre en el judeoespanol. A causa de ese fenômeno se ha formado de nuevo la lateral palatal [X], que diacrônicamente en el judeoespanol de Tesalônica se habia debilitado en la vocal palatal [i], la cual tiende a desaparecer. En cuanto a dicha desapariciôn se observa que esa evoluciôn fonética no se ha cumplido: se verifican casos en los que la lateral palatal se realiza muy débilmente y otros en los que no se realiza en absoluto. En otros casos se verifica la vocal palatal con carácter semiconsonântico que a veces no se realiza. Se trata aqui del desarrollo fonético siguiente: [X] > [i] > [j], que también se observa no solo en dialectos espanoles sino también en el castellano hablado en Latinoamérica, por ej.:

jsp, [ V a ] sp.: ella ['eXa] jsp.: ["amo] sp.: llamo ['Xamo]

jsp.: [ x a'maßan] sp.: llamaban [Xa'maßan] jsp.: [a'kea] sp.: aquella [a'keXa]

jsp.: [ V o s ] sp.: ellos ['eX0s] jsp, ['ka‫׳‬e] sp, calle ['kaXe]

El 1exema para "familia"—[fa'mia]—en el judeoespanol de Tesalônica demuestra un desarrollo fonético muy interesante: ese lexema tenia en el castellano antiguo la forma [fa'milia], que, por causa de la influencia de la vocal palatal, se ha desarrollado primero a la forma con la lateral palatal [fa'miXa], Como ya se ha visto, la lateral palatal no aparece tan frecuentemente en el sistema fonético judeoespanol; en su lugar se comprueba a veces la vocal palatal, que en la mayon'a de los casos desaparece completamente. En el caso del lexema [fa'miXa] habrá desaparecido muy temprano la lateral palatal, con lo cual en la forma [fa'mia] se trata de una lateral palatal debilitada: [fa'milia] > *[fa'milja] > *[fa'miXa] > *[fa'mi x a] > [fa'mia] La lateral palatal [X] se ha conservado hasta hoy aunque en muy pocos lexemas del judeoespanol de Tesalônica, en contraposition a lo que se ha declarado por otros investigadores, como Lamouche o Simon (Simon 1920: 677; Lamouche 1907: 982). Por ej.: jsp, [emro'Xaöa] sp, enrollada [enro'Xaôa]

jsp, [moz omi'Xamos] sp, nos humillamos [nos umi'Xamos]

Por causa de la palatalization de la lateral alveolar [1] por la fricativa palatal [j] se observa la lateral palatal muy frecuentemente. Por ej.: jsp, [sa'Xeron] sp, salieron [sa'lieron]

jsp, [izrae'Xanos] sp, israelitas [israe'litas]

La palatalization afecta también a la nasal alveolar [n]. El sistema fonético judeoespanol asi como el castellano contienen la nasal palatal [p]. Además se palatalizan todas las nasales alveolares que van antepuestas a la palatal [j] y résulta que en el judeoespanol de Tesalônica no aparece la secuencia fonética [ni] sino la [p]. Por ej.: jsp, [al'majia] sp, Alemania [ale'manja] jsp, [vi'jieron]

jsp, [ki'jientos] sp.. quinientos [ki'njentos] sp,vinieron [bi'njeron]

El fenômeno de la palatalization de la nasal alveolar [n] se observa también en el griego. La nasal alveolar se palataliza y se convierte en la lateral palatal [p], si aparece en la combination siguiente: [ni] + vocal: [ni] + vocal > [nj] + vocal > [p] + vocal. Por ej.:

εννιά νοιώθω

[e'jia] ['jlo0o]

"nueve" "sentir"

νιότη ξένοιαστος

[‫׳‬Jioti]

"juventud"

['ksejiastos]

"despreocupado"

Es un fenômeno caracteristico del sistema fonético griego, donde la secuencia fonética [ni] se realiza fonéticamente siempre como la nasal palatal [p] (Dietrich 1995: 76).

Resumen A través de esta investigaciôn queria llamarles la atenciôn hacia un terreno en el que poco se ha investigado hasta ahora y en el que queda todavia mucho por descubrir. En esta investigaciôn se han representado caracteristicas fonéticas del judeoespanol de Tesalônica opuestas a semejantes caracteristicas del sistema fonético griego. Se ha demostrado que tanto la consonantizaciôn de la semivocal [w] en los diptongos como la fricativizaciôn de las oclusivas sonoras en todas las posiciones y la palatalization de la lateral alveolar [1] y de la nasal alveolar [n] son por una parte tendencias preexistentes en el espanol medieval y también en el espanol de hoy; sin embargo, el hecho de que esas tendencias fonéticas se han converddo en caracteristicas importantes del judeoespanol de Tesalônica se puede ilustrar solo a través de un contacto posible entre el judeoespanol de Tesalônica y la lengua griega, dado que estas caracteristicas preexistian desde la época helenistica en el griego y hoy en dia forman parte indispensable del sistema fonético griego. De esta manera uno se podrà hacer una idea de posibles influencias del griego sobre el judeoespanol asi como de tendencias preexistentes en el sistema fonético judeoespanol que han permanecido bajo la presencia del griego en el uso de los hablantes judeoespanoles.

Bibliografia C r e w s , C. M., Vinay, J. P. 1939. " Q u e l q u e s o b s e r v a t i o n s s u p p l é m e n t a i r e s sur le parler j u d é o - e s p a g n o l d e S a l o n i q u e . " Bulletin Hispanique 41, 2 0 9 - 2 3 5 . , 1979. " T e x t o s j u d e o e s p a n o l e s d e Salônica y S a r a j e v o c o n c o m e n t a r i o s lingüisticos y

glosario." Estudios Sefardies 2, 91-258. Δ η μ η τ ρ ι ά δ η ς , B. 1983.

Τοπογραφία της θεσσαλονίκης κατά την εποχή της Τουρκο-κρατίας

1912. Θεσσαλονίκη: Εταιρεία Μακεδονικών Σ π ο υ δ ώ ν . D i e t r i c h , W . 1995. Griechisch und Romanisch. Parallelen und Variation und Strukturen. M ü n s t e r : N o d u s .

1430-

Divergenzen in der Entwicklung

, 1997. " G r e c p o p u l a i r e et ladn vulgaire. É t u d e d e lexicologie h i s t o r i q u e c o m p a r é e d u grec et des langues r o m a n e s . " Revue de Linguistique Romane 61, 5—40. L a m o u c h e , L. 1907. " Q u e l q u e s m o t s sur le dialecte e s p a g n o l parlé p a r les Israélites d e

Salonique." Romanische Forschungen 23, 1, 969-991. M e t z e l t i n , M . 1979. Altspanisches ter-Universitätsverlag.

Elementarbuch. I: Das AltkasUlische.

H e i d e l b e r g : Carl W i n -

Θεσσαλονίκη 1850-1918. Η "πόλη των Εβραίων" και η αφύπνιση των Βαλκανίων. ( Μ ε τ ά φ ρ α σ η Γ ι ώ ρ γ ο ς Κ α λ α μ ά ν τ η ς ) . E d . G .

Μ ό λ χ ο , P. 1 9 9 2 / 9 4 . " Η αναγέννηση." E n

V e i n s t e i n . Paris: A u t r e m e n t 1992; Αθήνα: Ε κ ά τ η 1994, 6 9 - 8 5 .

Παπάζογλου, Ά . 1994. Εβραϊκοί κοινοτικοί θεσμοί στη Θεσσαλονίκη της τουρκοκρατίας. Θεσσαλονίκη: Megatype. Rüge, Η. 1986/ 2 1997. Grammatik des Neugriechischen. Köln: Romiosini.

Sala, M. 1998. "Die romanischen Judensprachen." En Lexikon der Romanistischen Unguis-

tik, vol. VII: Kontakt, Migration und Kunstsprachen. Kontra-stivität, Klassifikation und Typologie. Ed. G. Holtus et al. Tübingen: Günther Narr, 372-395. Simon, W. 1920. "Charakteristik des judenspanischen Dialekts von Saloniki." ZRPh 40, 655-689. Τεγόπουλος-Φυτράκης 4 1991. Ελληνικό λεξικό. Αθήνα: Αρμονία Α.Ε.

Τομπαίδης, Δ. Ε. 71986. Επιτομή της ιστορίας της Ελληνικής γλώσσας. Αθήνα: Οργανισμός Εκδόσεως Διδακτικών Βιβλίων.

Wagner, M. L. 1914. Beiträge %ur Kenntnis des Judenspanischen von Konstantinopel. Wien: Alfred Holder.

, 1930. Caräcteres generates del Judeoespanol de Oriente. Madrid: Imprenta de la libreria y casa editorial Hernando (S. Α.).

LOS EXTREMOS

DE LA VIDA

Y SUS CONEXIONES CON EL POEMA JUDIO MEDIEVAL LAMENTA CIÔN DEL ALMA ANTE LA

MUERTE

CARMEN VALENTÎN DEL BARRIO Iowa State University, USA

Coincidiendo con el nacimiento del siglo XVIII, aparecen en tierras balcânicas las primeras manifestaciones escritas en judeoespanol de un género poético cultivado por los sefardies asentados en estas zonas; nos referimos a las copias.1 Las primeras ediciones conocidas de las copias son del siglo XVIII, momento de màximo esplendor de la production coplistica. Esta coincidencia ha planteado una duda: des posible una transmisiôn textual anterior a estas primeras ediciones dieciochescas? Résulta dificil pensar que el apogeo de un género se dé en el preciso instante de su apariciôn, por lo que toma consistencia suponer que estuviera en estado latente durante el periodo anterior a este siglo. Es todo esto lo que ha llevado a intuir una relaciôn entre esta coplistica sefardi y la producciôn hispana medieval de copias, lo que se traduciria en una tradiciôn de créaciôn y transmisiôn no interrumpida desde antes de la expulsion de la Peninsula hasta su reapariciôn en oriente en el siglo XVIII. Paloma Diaz-Mas 2 asegura que las copias sefardies son "un resurgimiento de esa poesia de clereda rabinica que se cultivô en la peninsula probablemente desde el siglo XIII." 3 Esta clerecia rabinica engloba una serie de autores que, desde el siglo XIV, e incluso el XIII, produjeron una poesia judia en romance. Diaz-Mas examina el reducido—por ser lo unico conocido—corpus poético escrito por judios en la Espana medieval:4 los Proverbios morales (Sem Tob Ardutiel, siglo XIV), las Copias de Yoçef (anônimo del siglo XIV), Lamentation del alma ante la muerte (anônimo siglo XIV), El pecado original (anônimo de finales del siglo XIV) y Ay, Iherusalem (anônimo del siglo XIII); y concluye que estos poemas comparten entre si unos rasgos comunes que vienen

1

2

3 4

Para la caracterizaciôn general de la forma, contenido y funciôn de las copias ver Hassan, I. M. 1987. "Un género castizo sefardi: Las Copias." En Los sefardies: Cultura y literatura. San Sebastian: Universidad del Pais Vasco, 103-117; de él mismo "El sistema de rima en las copias sefardies." Primer Congreso Internacional sobre Poesia Estrôfica Arabe y Hebrea y sus Paralelos Romances (Madrid: Universidad Complutense-Instituto de Cooperation con el mundo arabe, 1989), comunicaciôn inédita; Romero, E. 1992. La cnaciôn literaria en lengua sefardi. Madrid: Mafre, 141-172; de la misma autora, 1991. "Formas estrôficas de las copias sefardies." Poesia estrôfica. Madrid: Universidad Complutense‫־‬Instituto de Cooperation con el mundo arabe. Diaz-Mas, P. 1992. "Un género casi perdido de la poesia castellana medieval: La clerecia rabinica." BRAE, tomo LXXIII, cuaderno CCLIX (mayo-agosto 1993), 329-346. Diaz-Mas, P. "Un género," 343. Diaz-Mas, P. en "Un género," comenta brevemente estas obras y da la bibliografîa básica para su estudio.

a définir a esta clerecia rabinica, pero que también están présentes en las copias sefardies: a) Formation rabinica de sus autores y uso de fuentes hebreas: Talmud, libros biblicos, Midrás. b) Rasgos formales de referencia semidca: rima silàbica, acrôstico, estrofas zejelescas. c) En su contenido siempre se présenta un referente judio. Por ejemplo, algunas copias cuentan la historia de José al igual que el poema judio Copias de Yoçef, otras son de carácter admonidvo como el medieval Lamentaciôn del alma ante la muerte y otras son de quinot como el judio Ay, Iherusalem. d) Cumplen una funciôn paralitûrgica, siendo leidas o cantadas en fiestas como Purim, en losyamin noraim o en la celebration luctuosa de Tišá beab. Dentro del amplio corpus coplistico sefardi (conocemos alrededor de 400 copias diferentes 5 ), nosotros hemos prestado atenciôn al estudio de las copias de contenido admonidvo, llamadas copias admonitivas, morales 0 de castiguem. Este tipo de poesia surge del sentimiento religioso y moral propio de la religion judia de los sefarditas. Nace con una intenciôn clara: guiar espiritual y moralmente la vida de los sefardies. Por ello, la poesia admoniriva puede definirse como "aquélla cuyo propôsito es el de apartar al hombre del mal camino, criticando sus malas costumbres, para llevarle a la prácdca de las virtudes." 6 Ya fuera con las copias antiguas del siglo XVIII y las de musar ("moral") del siglo XIX—en las que dominaba el sentimiento religioso presentândose la cririca de los vicios humanos, la fugacidad de la vida junto a la crueldad de la muerte y el deseo y beneficios de seguir el camino de Dios—ο con las copias del felec ("mundo, actualidad") del siglo XX—nacidas con una intenciôn más critica, que se fija exclusivamente en lo coddiano, rayando mâs de una vez en lo noticiero—los autores de estos textos recogieron las principales ensenanzas de los libros de moral y trataron de transmitir de un modo sencillo los aspectos normativos y morales del judaismo a unas personas que no sabian hebreo y que, por tanto, no podian leer lo escrito en la literatura rabinica. Por ello, esta poesia admonidva présenta una funciôn didáctica al enseiiar las doctrinas de fe y moral, los deseos y esperanzas del pueblo judio, los fundamentos de la religion y las promesas hechas por Dios. Pero a esta funciôn didáctica habrá que unir otras dos: por un lado la moralizante, tal y como su nombre indica, patente en el rechazo de las malas costumbres y description de los peligros que trae el apartarse del camino recto; y por otro la paralitûrgica, recitândose en los yamim noraim, adquirida por alguna de ellas a tenor de su contenido y su carácter sentencioso y de reflexion profunda, si bien son textos que no suelen nacer con una ocasionalidad determinada. De todos los poemas que conforman el corpus coplisrico admonidvo, nosotros hemos seleccionado para presentar en este trabajo uno que gozô de gran popularidad entre la comunidad sefardita—o al menos eso reflejan las 20 edi-

5

6

Romero, E. Creaciôn, 145. Para la presentation de cada una y sus distintas versiones ver de la misma autora Bibliografia analitica de ediciones de Copias Sefardies. Madrid: CSIC, 1992. Romero, E. y Carracedo, L. 1997. "Poesia juedoespanola admoniriva." Sefarad 37, 429.

ciones impresas conocidas de él7 (la primera de Constanunopla del ano 1745— recogida en un libro aljamiado sin portada, al que se le ha dtulado por la leyenda que aparece en folio Tojahâ megulà, junto a otras dos copias de casriguerio: Las malas costumbres y Visiones divinas, y otra de Purim—y la ultima de Viena de 1925—présente en un oracional de Roi halanâ—). Estamos hablando del ritulado por Elena Romero y Leonor Carracedo 8 Los extremos de la vida, siendo probablemente su dtulo original, ya que aparece en varias ediciones, Quesôt baares (literalmente, "Los confines del mundo"). Hayim Yom-Tob Magula9 escribiô un poema Ueno de duras imágenes donde se reflexiona sobre los pecados del hombre, el escaso valor de lo mundano y la fugacidad de la vida, sobre la que siempre planea, acechante, la muerte, para finalmente apelar al arrepentimiento y a la union con Dios. En el ano 1991, Antonio Cid presentaba en sociedad un nuevo poema medieval titulado Lamentaciôn del alma ante la muerte,10 de autor desconocido y que su descubridor data, tras analizar los rasgos métricos y lingüisticos de la composiciôn, en la primera mitad del siglo XIV. El texto fue hallado en un legajo del Archivo Histôrico Nacional y aparece en una carta que el licenciado e inquisidor valenciano Nicolàs Rodriguez Laso enviô en 1797 a Tomâs Antonio Sánchez, quien preparaba su Colecciôn de poesias castellanas anteriores al siglo XV, proyecto que nunca finalizô. Rodriguez Laso manifiesta que el poema está copiado de un "orario" de un judio, titulado Reglas, que se encontraba en el monasterio jerônimo valenciano de San Miguel de los Reyes. Este poema présenta una peculiaridad, nada comûn en la poesia romance del momento, pero présente en la hebrea sinagogal ya desde el siglo IX: su contenido admonitivo. La meditation sobre la insignificancia del hombre, sus pecados y la inminente presencia de la muerte, unida a la contrition y al regreso al seno de Dios, es el tema que da ilaciôn a todo el texto. Los dos poemas admonitivos, el sefardi Los extremos de la vida y el judio medieval Lamentaciôn del alma ante la muerte, presentan una importante distancia cronolôgica y geogrâfica, pero si nos detenemos a analizar sus caracteristicas formaies, de contenido y de funciôn nos daremos cuenta de que tal alejamiento no existe y que tanto uno como otro parecen pertenecer a una misma tradiciôn que no variô con el paso del riempo. Gracias a la labor investigadora de Elena Romero" sabemos que el copiera que escribiô Los extremos es Hayim Yom-Tob Magula, personaje que debiô de 7

8 9

10

11

Hemos manejado originales o fotocopias de originales pertenecientes a la Biblioteca de Estudios Sefardies del Insdtuto Arias Montano del CSIC. Romero, E. y Carracedo, L. "Admonitiva." Para conocer algo mâs sobre la trayectoria literaria de este autor, remitimos a los araculos de Romero, E. 1982. "Hayim Y o m ‫ ־‬T o b Magula y su poesia moralizante." Estudios sefardies 5, 407420‫ ;־‬y 1988. "Algo mâs sobre la poesia de Hayim Yom-Tob Magula." En Hispanic Studies in Honor of Joseph H. Silverman. Newark: Delaware, 189.193‫־‬ Cid, J. A. 1991. "Lamentaciôn del alma ante la muerte·. Un nuevo poema medieval judeoespanol." En Poesia tstriifica. Madrid: Universidad Complutense‫־‬Insdtuto de Cooperaciôn con el mundo árabe, 143170 ‫ ; ־‬y 1992. "Lamentaciôn del alma ante la muerte. Nuevo poema medieval." En Estudios de Folclore y Literatura dedicados a Mercedes Dlaç Roig. México: El Colegio de México, 1 6 3 . 1 7 2 ‫־‬ Romero, E. "Hayim Yom-Tob" y "Algo mâs."

nacer en Constantinopla en el ultimo tercio del siglo XVII y que perteneciô al grupo de rabinos y eruditos que intentô terminar con la ignorancia en materias judaicas del pueblo sefardi plasmando en judeoespanol lo dicho en los textos sagrados. Entre los sefardies orientales del siglo XVIII se da un fenômeno similar al que tuvo lugar entre los judios que vivian en Espana en la Edad Media: el alto grado de desconocimiento de la lengua hebrea, lo que imposibilitaba el meldar\ leer los textos religiosos y meditar sobre ello. Solo quienes habian seguido estudios rabinicos dominaban el hebreo y éstos fueron los que emprendieron una labor educativa que llevô a escribir la literatura religiosa hebrea primero en romance y, siglos mâs tarde, en judeoespanol. Nada sabemos del poeta que compuso Lamentation del alma ante la muerte, pero cabe suponer que pertenecia a esa clerecia rabinica, a la que arriba aludiamos. Prueba de ello parecen ser los hebraismos con que cuenta el texto: Hebel ("vanidad") y Zebratan ("fuera de la ley"), los cuales, para Cid, probablemente hacen alusiôn referencial a algûn pasaje de la Biblia. Asimismo, Diaz-Mas12 senala que en el poema están présentes los tôpicos propios de la selibà, la poesia penitential adecuada para recitarse en los días de ayuno y penitencia, y principalmente en losjamim noraim. Desde el punto de vista formai, ambos textos fueron escritos en aljamia hebraica. Los judios se Servian del alefato hebreo ya en la Edad Media para escribir sus textos, algo que no puede extranar cuando el sistema tradicional de educaciôn judia imponia la letra hebrea para meldar las oraciones, y lo siguieron utilizando en sus asentamiento del oriente de Europa y del norte de Africa.13 Todas las ediciones impresas del texto sefardi se muestran asi y Cid, aunque maneja una copia en caractères latinos, llega a la conclusion de que el poema medieval se escribiô originariamente en aljamia por usar el adorno, muy empleado en la poesia hebraica de todos los tiempos y también présente en la gran mayoria de copias sefardies—aunque Los extremes sea una exception a ello—del acrôstico. El acrôstico del poema medieval es alefâtico, es decir, cada estrofa se initia, siguiendo su orden, por una de las letras del alefato hebreo; este tipo de acrôstico es muy comûn en la coplistica judeoespanola, ya sea en su orden directo, inverso o alterno, pero también puede contener otro tipo de information como el nombre del autor o frases eulogisticas. Los dos copieras escribieron sendos poemas de 22 estrofas. Los extremes presenta 21 estrofas mâs una introductoria, extension documentada en las mâs que fiables ediciones del corpus antiguo,14 sin embargo no todas las versiones denen tal nûmero. Esta variation se debe a distintos factores como defecto del lilbro en el que se recoge la copia al estar manco por alguna de sus partes o a la intervenciôn del copista quien habrá afiadido u omitido alguna estrofa, bien con intenciôn o bien por lapsus, y lleva consigo una modification de sentido en las 12 13

14

Diaz‫־‬Mas, P. " U n género." Los judios que se asentaron en la zona europea occidental escribieron e imprimieron en caracteres latinos. Ediciones que recogen el corpus de Tojdhat megulà, bien reducido ο complete, que Consta de las copias escritas por Hayim Y o m - T o b Magula: Las malas costumbres, Visiones divinas, Et mundo at rêvés, Un mundo nuevo, Las tdades del hombre y Los extremos de ta vida (Constantinopla 1745 y 1756, Salônica 1787, 1815 y 1858).

versiones textuales que la sufren (12, 13, 19 y 21 son el numéro de estrofas que algunas de las ediciones presentan). Aunque el texto medieval descubierto por Cid no cuenta con la totalidad de las 22 estrofas, es seguro que fue escrito con este numéro siendo fiel al acrôstico alefâtico. Tanto Los extremos—salvo la estrofa introductoria que es una cuarteta con rima alterna abab—como Lamentation están escritos con la llamada "copia zejelesca," es decir, las estrofas son cuartetas con los très primeros versos monorrimos y el cuarto de "vuelta," con rima en titra en el poema sefardi y la combinaciôn i-a en el medieval. Este tipo estrôfico es el mâs bàsico y elemental de todos los que derivan del zéjel al carecer de estribillo. La forma mâs antigua del zéjel castellano, la de cuatro versos octosilabos, es la normalmente utilizada en la coplistica sefardi, aunque no faltan ejemplos de esquemas de cuatro versos de arte mayor o de versos hexadecasilabos. Además podemos encontrar estrofas zejelescas de très y cinco versos y presencia de estribillo. El poema publicado por Cid dene un grado mayor de arcaismo respecto a la traditional forma del zéjel castellano, ya que además de carecer de estribillo cuenta con versos heptasilabos. Estos dos rasgos se convierten en uno de los puntales sobre los que se apoya Cid para datar la composition por él descubierta en la primera mitad del siglo XIV. Los dos poemas presentan una rima independiente para cada estrofa. Los extremos es ejemplo de los casos de rima sefardi que Iacob M. Hassán 15 ha caracterizado. Para Hassán, el principio mâs importante y que siempre debe darse es la idenddad fonédca de la ultima silaba, independientemente de donde recaiga el acento, con anterioridad o posterioridad al initio de esta silaba y, teniendo esto en cuenta, habla de dos tipos de rima: la continua ("aquélla en la que la igualdad fonética, una vez establecida, se mandene hasta el final del verso") y la discontinua ("aquélla en la que hay alguna solution en la condnuidad de la igualdad fonédca"). En nuestro texto aparecen casos de rima condnua, para palabras paroxitonas, donde la igualdad fonédca se inicia en la semiconsonante que precede a la vocal tônica (contienes / tie nes / vienes) ; donde la igualdad comienza en la consonante simple inicial de la silaba tônica (serviremos / allegaremos / sentiremos)\ donde la igualdad es iniciada en la silaba precedente a la tônica (demaitas / jantasïas / vatiai)·, donde la igualdad se da a partir de la vocal tônica y que, siendo la prédominante en el poema, corresponde a la consonante espanola (tino / vino / camino). Para palabras oxitonas hay un caso donde la rima comienza en el elemento consonândco de la ultima silaba (Tora / gue^erá / mandarà). En cuanto a la rima discontinua, se présenta la igualdad de la ultima vocal tônica y de la silaba final ialgo / largo / valgo); y la solution de continuidad puede incidir en la consonante inicial de la ultima silaba, iniciândose la igualdad fonédca en la vocal tônica y reiniciàndose en la de la silaba ultima (correos / dineros / ellos). Cid, al analizar los rasgos métricos del poema, dice que la consonancia, por lo general, está bien mantenida aunque habla de algunas rimas anômalas. Estas rimas anômalas tienen explication, como el propio Cid senala, al entender que la consonancia se logra con la igualdad fonética de la ultima silaba, herencia del sistema de rima 15

Hassan, I. M. "El sistema de rima."

hebraico, y que también aparece en otros poemas judios medievales. De este modo veremos que hay coincidencia con algunos de los ejemplos de rima sefardi expuestos por Hassán. El manuscrito descubierto por Cid presentaba en su verso 5b un nacido, que debia rimar con llamado / tornado. Cid sustituye el participio por el arcaico nado, que mandene la consonancia segûn la normativa casteliana; aunque él mismo considéré como posible el mantenimiento del natido, que seria consonante perfecto de los otros dos participios por el fenômeno ya expuesto y que corresponderia a la rima continua sefardi con igualdad de toda la silaba final y que para Hassán es la "rima silàbica pura," una "de las más caracterizadoras de las copias."16 El verso 6b recoge un pïadad que no rima con rogar / lugar y que Cid justifica "por la proximidad fonética de -d y -r, que en espanol da lugar a vulgarismos y confusiones bien conocidas." 17 Esto parece aceptable si tenemos en cuenta que en el poema se da otro caso de rima por analogia, en este caso de sibilantes. El fuessa de 16a, con fricativa, rima con fuerça / vergiiença, que presentan africada. Este tipo de neutralizaciones no son raras en sefardi, en cuya poesia podemos encontrar la misma equiparaciôn entre fricativas y africadas. Las rimas de estas dos estrofas estarian en relation con la continua sefardi que initia la igualdad en la vocal tônica de las palabras oxitonas y con la que la comienza en el elemento semiconsonântico que precede a la vocal tônica de las paroxitonas. Finalmente hablaremos de maravilla, en el verso de vuelta de la estrofa 15, que rima con la secuencia t-a. Cid, como explication alternativa a la pérdida de la palatal, recurre a la herencia hebrea y sefiala que este tipo de rima se da en sefardi donde es frecuente encontrar palabras con consonante palatal que consuenan con otras que finalizan en ία ο to. En relation con su contenido, claramente se aprecia que tanto Los extremes como Lamentation son poemas de tema admonitivo. Ambos textos recuerdan la facilidad del hombre para pecar, la fugacidad de la vida y el poco valor de lo mundano, ya que detrás de todo ello solo está la muerte, y piden el arrepentimiento y el conducirse a través del camino descrito por Dios, con el ûnico propôsito de que el hombre siga una vida recta que le abra las puertas de la "auténtica vida" que llega con el ôbito. La admonition es dada por los autores de dos modos diferentes: mientras que Lamentation es una confesiôn 18 en la que el poeta, individualizado en su persona, muestra al hombre pecador y su deseo de arrepentimiento cuando es consciente de la proximidad de la muerte y del momento de dar cuentas a Dios; el coplero de Los extremes—solo individualizado en la estrofa introductoria para manifestar qué le mueve a componer el poema— primero apela al hombre para convencerle de la falsedad de lo mundano, para pasar después a un tono descriptivo ya que ahora a Magula le interesa resaltar esos bienes y vicios por los que el hombre peca y se pierde y los efectos desoladores que la muerte produce en éste. Sin embargo la presencia del autor se manifiesta de igual manera en el cierre de ambos textos: las ultimas estrofas (dos en el medieval y très en el sefardi) son de alabanza y de deseo de union con Dios y en

16 17 18

Hassan, I. M. "El sistema de rima." Cid, J. A. "Lamentaciôn." La sttihà présenta diferentes dpos, uno de ellos es el

viduy o

"confesiôn."

ellas aparece la primera persona plural, senal de que el autor se engloba dentro de la colecdvidad, pasa a ser uno mâs de la comunidad: 19]

Dejemos de estos lodos roguemos al Dio todos haga maneras y modos mos lleve a muestra dera.

15]

Sennor de gran alteza, alça tu fortaleza, perdôn'nos tu nobleza, faz con nos maravilla.

20]

Y ahi lo serviremos, corbanot allegaremos, cantar nuevo sentiremos de arincôn de la dera.

16]

Tornemos a la fuessa hora, (jquién havrá fuerça para 'star sin vergûença del Jüizio el dia?

21]

De vermos con gran consuelos se encantarán los pueblos, alegrarse han los cielos y agozarse ha la uera.

(Lamentaciôn)

(Los extremos) Este final es comûn a toda la poesia admonitiva sefardi y lleva a intuir la presencia fisica de un auditorio, prueba de que las copias, aun siendo poesia de autor, estaban desunadas a cantarse o recitarse en grupo o en presencia de un pûblico, costumbre que ya podria estar viva en el medievo peninsular a juzgar por el texto hispano-judio. El discurso moralizador de los dos poetas va a estar impregnado de iguales modvos y recursos que hacen adivinar en ellos una misma intenciôn. Lo que parece indiscutible al leer ambos textos es la maestria de los copieras para expresar su admonition de modo que ésta llegara a su màximo extremo de efecuvidad. Tanto uno como otro presentan a un hombre soberbio: 1]

Hombre, ,;en qué te contienes que tanta sobrebia tienes?; para mientes d'ânde vienes y tu fin polvo y tiera.

4]

Te pensas que eres algo, que la vida va de largo, "yo me so, yo me lo valgo, que de mi toda la tiera."

4]

Dende que yo nasci e al mundo paresci, yo siempre atorci en yerro y porfïa.

(Lamentation)

(Los extremos) vanidoso: 12]

En vivo como un espejo no cabe en su pelejo casas con grande aparejo que no abastece dera.

(Los extremos)

5]

Hebel sô yo llamado dende que fui yo nado <;qué faré de tornado tierra, como solia?

(Lamentation)

y pecador: 2]

5]

Escucha y mete dno, boracho sin beber vino, no piedras el camino ni carera de la riera.

3]

Grandes pecados fiz, e non torci cerviz a lo que la ley diz atan solo un dia.

^En qué vas enbelecado con este mundo escašcad0?, él te 11evará enganado hasta que dará en riera.

7]

Zebratan so yo fecho al Sennor fiz despecho; meter m'han en estrecho so de la derra fria.

(Lamentation)

(Los extremos)

Pero el elemento que se erige como denominador es el ôbito, del que se hace idéndca description en los dos textos. La lexia "muerte" no aparece en los poemas (ûnicamente en el verso 15a "cuando se acerca la muerte" del sefardi), tal vez porque no es tan importante destacar el hecho fisico como los efectos negarivos que trae sobre el hombre. De este modo, la palabra "derra" se hace clave en las copias (especialmente en la sefardi, pues si recordamos es la rima de los versos de vuelta), convirtiéndose en un simbolo de la "muerte." Ejemplo de ello son los versos: 1 d]

y tu fin polvo y dera.

5cd]

cqué faré de tornado derra, como solia?

5d]

hasta que te dará en riera.

led]

meter m'han en estrecho so de la tierra fria

(Lamentation) 10cd]

jcon qué se mos harta el ojo? con un punado de tiera.

(Los extremes) Los copleros se encargan de que el posible receptor tenga muy présente la rapidez con que la vida humana llega a su fin: ‫]י‬

A el vivo le parece que cuanto mâs va mâs crece, supito se anochece y se escurece la tiera.

12] |E1 tiempo ansi se va e non sé por qué via!

(Lamentation)

(Los extremes) asi como que el hombre no vale nada, pues solo es polvo: led]

para mientes d'ânde vienes y tu fin polvo y tiera.

(Los extremos)

5cd]

jqué faré de tornado tierra, como solia?

(Lamentation)

La muerte, que pasa igualadora sin respetar edades ni estatus, se muestra en toda su dureza en dos estrofas de cuatro que en ambos poemas mantienen una misma estructura y que conrienen los elementos a resaltar por los poetas: arrepentimiento, description de los efectos de la muerte y deseo de vuelta al camino de Dios.

15]

Cuando se acerca la muerte en nada n o para miente, de todo se arepiente, todo le parece tiera.

8]

Hora, <:yo qué faré, o qué comidiré, o qué qiienta daré d'aquesta aima mia?

16]

El queda cuero y güeso en casa por entropezo, cinco tablas y un llenzo y cuatro picos de tiera.

9]

Levar m'han sin tocado a lo despoblado; dexar m'han en mi cado 1 9 solo, sin compania.

1η

Echado en lugar estrecho, teso, un palo derecho, la boca cerca del techo y por cubierta la tiera.

10]

Meter m'han n'angostura so de la tierra dura hora, !qué amargura y quién lo sofriria!

18]

El que pensará en esto y las penas todo el resto él n o pecará tan presto, terná su corazôn tiera. (Los extremos)

11]

Pequé, falso, menu, e siempre crei en ti; perdona tu a mi, yo a ti tornaria. (Lamentaciôn)

Estas cuatro estrofas presentan primero a un hombre arrepentido de su pasado pecador que se desvanece con la inminente presencia de la muerte. El climax de los poemas llega con las dos cuartetas mediales, en las que a través de crueles imágenes, los autores destacan idénucas consecuencias del morir, dejando clara su intenciôn de senalar exclusivamente a qué se reduce tanto el hombre como todo por lo que pecô en vida al llegar su fin: el hombre queda solo en su estrecha madriguera con el ûnico goce de "cinco tablas y un llenzo / y cuatro picos de dera." N o volver a pecar es el ûnico remedio para salvarse de este terrible final. La crueldad y dureza con que se describe el fin del hombre en estas estrofas, al igual que la idendficaciôn del ser humano como "polvo y dera," nos hacen comprender por qué estas copias adquirieron—junto a su finalidad didácdca y moralizante, propias de su género y tema—una funciôn paralitûrgica en los dias del calendario judio desdnados al arrepentimiento o a la tristeza. Los extremos de la vida se recitaba en los rezos devocionales anteriores a la oraciôn de la manana y en los dias que preceden a Tišá beab o los que siguen a Rof hašaná. En algunas de las ediciones se hace alusiôn a su ocasionalidad: en las ediciones de Esmirna de 1877 y 1879 se dice que se cantaba en la madrugada de hag hasabu'ot ["fiesta de las Semanas"]; la ediciôn de Belgrado de 1896 senala que "es del libro de Yom Kipur" es decir, del libro que recogia las oraciones propias de este Dia del Gran Perdôn y las copias que se leian o cantaban para recordar al hombre su poco valor y la fûgacidad de los bienes terrenales; la de Esmirna de 1910 da un tesdmonio de ocasionalidad luctuosa al incluirse en el libro Endechas de Tiíá beab-, y la ediciôn de Viena de 1925 es un oracional de Roi hašaná. Tal vez fuera esta funciôn paralitûrgica la que hizo que obtuviera tanta popularidad. Además de las 20

19

"Madriguera."

ediciones impresas conocidas de la copia, sabemos de la existencia de alguna manuscrita desde el ano 1749 y de versiones orales modernas. 20 N o tenemos testimonios de que Lamentation se destinara a la paraliturgia, aunque Cid senala que "probablemente tuvo funciones liturgicas"21 y Diaz-Mas parece apoyarlo al indicar que recoge las caracterîsdcas de la selihá, "poesia penitential propia para salmodiarse en los dias de ayuno y penitencia del calendario judio, y muy especialmente en los llamadosyamim noraim ο 'dias temerosos,' que van entre las fesdvidades de Roi hašaná ('principio del ano7) y Yom Kipur ('dia de la expiation"), que los judios celebran entre finales de sepdembre y principios de octubre." 22 Tras esta breve comparaciôn quedan manifiestas las similitudes formales (aljamia, estrofa zejelesca, rima de herencia hebraica), temáucas (admonition presentada con idéndcos tôpicos—insignificancia del hombre pecador y de todo lo terreno, crueldad de la única verdad: la muerte, arrepentimiento y vuelta a Dios—y recursos—iguales idendficaciones e imágenes—) y funcionales (servían de apoyo a la liturgia comunitaria de los dias dedicados al arrepentimiento) existentes entre los dos poemas—escritos por autores de similar formation—y que sirven de ejemplo a la tesis expuesta por Diaz-Mas de condnuidad en la production coplisdca entre los poetas judios que escribian en Espana en la Edad Media y los que lo hicieron en el oriente europeo desde principios del siglo XVIII, aunque no se haya encontrado ninguna prueba documentai de dicha condnuidad.

20 21 22

Romero, E. 1991. Primera setecrion de Copias sefardies. Côrdoba: El Almendro, 141.146‫־‬ Cid, J. A. "Lamentation," 66. Diaz-Mas, P. "Un género," 333.

C 0 N V E R S 0 DESCENDANTS IN THE AMERICAN SOUTHWEST: A R E P O R T O N RESEARCH, RESOURCES, A N D T H E C H A N G I N G SEARCH FOR IDENTITY SETH WARD University of Denver, USA

Over the past fifteen years or so, journalistic and academic publications have carried articles about the survival of "Crypto-Jewish" family practices and traditions in New Mexico, U.S.A. and adjacent areas, and about individuals with roots in these areas who have become increasingly open about their "Jewish" or "Crypto-Jewish" identity. For members of the Jewish community, this reawakened awareness and openness is a kibbut^galujot, a "coming together of exiles," allowing distant relatives to rekindle links, and giving the topic of the "Secret Jews of the American Southwest" tremendous power and popularity. It combines interest in North American Jewish history with the U. S. Jewish community's continuing focus on anti-Semitism—in this case reflected back as interest in the Inquisition and its horrors—and the romance of Jewish survival against all odds. Curiously, a somewhat essentialist approach to descent and genealogy is frequently highly valued among both researchers and crypto-Jews: "Jewish ancestry makes someone a Jew." This attitude is common enough in some contexts within the American Jewish community but stands in stark contrast to its wellknown worry about whether their grandchildren will be Jews; many who claim crypto-Jewish descent are far more worried about whether their distant ancestors were Jews. To my mind, the issue of identity has been inadequately or improperly addressed in the research. But before looking at the research and at these issues, we need to briefly review—to the extent space permits—the size and names given to the phenomenon, its "foundation narrative," and some of the elements cited in support of the "Crypto-Jewish" identification.

Name and size for the phenomenon It is not clear that there is a standard name to describe the contemporary phenomenon and its provenance, although "Crypto-Jews of the contemporary American Southwest" or "... of contemporary New Mexico" appears to be most common. Other terms are known: "Sephardic Jewish legacy" (Hordes 1993) or even "Southwestern Jews" (Neulander 1994: 26); the term judios "Jews" is also encountered within the tradition, and some individuals refer to themselves as Sephardim or Sefarditas, sometimes in contradistinction not only to Ash-

kcnazim but to Jews in general. Tomâs Atencio uses the local term "Manito," a "shortened diminutive of Hermano," to refer "to New Mexico's Indohispanos and Indohispanas whose historical threads are anchored in the Colonial period." But he refers to "Crypto-Jews" among the Manitos (Atencio 1996). Others prefer "anusim" (sometimes without differentiation of singular and plural, e.g., "She is an anusim", Sandoval 1996). Anusim is of course the typical Hebrew name for Marranos and has been favored in other communities and by some scholars. "Marrano" is also used by some to refer to their community as a mark of honor, not of shame. "Crypto-Jews" or "Secret Jews," however, seems to be the most well known term. One of the first publications about the New Mexico phenomenon used the term Converso descendants (Nidel 1984: 257), a term which is academically attractive as neutral, uncontroversial and descriptive. But few if any inside the community refer to themselves as Conversos or New Christians, and some appear to find this nomenclature offensive or problematic. It is rarely encountered in the literature.

Provenance While the core population seems to have links to villages from central New Mexico to southern Colorado, many discussions of the phenomenon include areas along both banks of the Rio Grande south into Texas, especially around El Paso, and in what is today northern Mexico. "New Mexico," "American Southwest" and several other terms are used more or less interchangeably. Many, however, find it difficult not to include individuals from northern Mexico, Cuba or indeed the entire Spanish speaking world, although presumably speaking only of the New Mexican population.

Size The New Christian community probably reached its heyday in the seventeenth century. The late J. R. Marcus suggested that there were 20,000 Europeans in 17th century Mexico, including parts which are now within the United States about a tenth of them New Christians. (Fierman 1987: 7). Of course, it seems likely that the overwhelming majority of Conversos were not "Crypto-Jews" and were not able to or not desirous of passing along meaningful components of an explicidy Jewish way of life (Fierman 1987: 16, citing Greenleaf). Tobias relates that in the late 1980's, Reverend Carmona estimated there were some 1500 families in New Mexico who were part of this tradition (Tobias 1990: 19). Few others have ventured any reliable guesses about contemporary numbers. One 1996 study, based on a small sample of 28 came up with astounding statistics about Jewish identification. Over a quarter of her sample have formally converted and 60% of those who have not converted nevertheless report attending Jewish services and celebrating holidays (Jacobs 1996). The sample is tiny and based on unscientific affinity group and "snowball sampling" (i.e. various organizations recommend subjects who in turn recommend others). Moreover, just over 40% report descent from Spanish colonial setders in New

Mexico; the rest were themselves born in Mexico and have moved to the area. Jacobs does not comment on whether the converts were Mexican or New Mexican, or on the difficulty of focussing on a single geographical provenance. Nevertheless, these numbers clearly reflect sampling idiosyncrasies, and boldly underscore the identity issue.

Foundation Narrative The "foundation narrative" of this phenomenon—the story participants and some researchers tell about the history of New Mexico Crypto-Judaism—starts in the 16th and 17lh centuries, when many New Christians or their immediate descendants came to the northernmost parts of New Spain to seek their fortune along the frontier. They setded along the Rio Grande, its tributary creeks and upland villages, from El Paso northward to what is today New Mexico and southern Colorado. Some chose this remote area because they worried they might become targets for the Inquisition, either because they were Judaizers or simply because they were "New Christians." Others came because opportunity knocked—in the form of a colonial setdement expedition which had obtained a release from the usual requirement of limiting participation to those with pure Old-Christian bloodlines (Hordes 1996: 82ff). Among those who came to this region were members of families known to have Judaized, such as sons of Luis de Carvajal. According to this foundation narrative, these families married primarily among themselves, maintaining their identity to the present day.

Traditional Practices Associated with the New-Mexican Crypto-Judaism According to the foundation narrative, some families lost all knowledge of any Jewish heritage, traditions, or practices. Nevertheless, some of their descendants today are aware of the history of Judaism in Spain, and the presence of many converso descendants in the early Spanish setdement in the region. Many contemporary New Mexico Hispanos believe and in some cases have demonstrated that their ancestors include individuals who were prosecuted by the Inquisition for loyalty to the "Law of Moses." Other families appear to have kept alive trditions describing their families as "Jewish," and stiU others maintained practices or traditions which have come to be associated with the phenomenon, although without glossing them as Jewish in any way. Space permits only a limited review of the practices and traditions associated with this phenomenon.

Names Many reports indicate that both given names and family names are a source of identification as Crypto-Jews. Florence Hernández (1993: 419-20) has counted about 143 surnames believed to be part of this phenomenon. She notes, however, that most of these names were "taken from Christian sponsors," i.e., they were Old Christians names as well. Given names may be a more reliable support for a Crypto-Jewish background. Hernandez lists such names as Sara, Raquel, Rosa, and Betsabé, for women and Aron, Abrán, Adán, Efren, Eliséo,

Jacobo, and others for men. "Adonay" is sometimes used as a given name, paralieling the use of "Jesus" as a popular given name among Hispanos. This would be anathema to tradidonal Jews, of course. Although most of these personal and family names are well attested outside the New Mexico group, the presence of "Adonay" and of Old Testament names to the exclusion of Gospel would be striking in any Hispano context. It is also easier to trace than many of the pracdees, possibly allowing some historical perspective, but conversely is also easily open to alternative explanations (e.g. Neulander 1996).

Rejection of Christian or Catholic Practices Some individuals report a parent advised them that they were not really Chrisdans, or that they never went to church, or were not baptized or waited as long as possible to be baptized, or never took communion or were not confirmed. Some report they were advised not to pray to Jesus and "not to worship Saints," or trinity but to concentrate only on God" (Hernández 1993: 423, Halevy 1996: 69). As in the case of the personal names, some note an emphasis on Hebrew Bible stories to the exclusion of New Testament stories. A sense that they were "different" from the mass of Catholic Hispanos may be included within this theme.

Sabbath Observances The most common and striking observance reported is lighting candles Friday night, although often without considering it a "Jewish" practice. Typical reports note women lit candles in bowls in an interior part of the house, or that draperies were drawn (Hernández 1993: 423). Other Saturday-Sabbath reports note that the men did not go to church on Sunday but gathered in a building or in the fields on Saturday, or that the men worked on Sunday but not on Saturday.

Food Practices The avoidance of pork is frequendy mentioned; so is slaughter in which the neck was slit by a knife checked for sharpness, and the carcass allowed to hang upside down until all the blood drained out. In a case attested by Neulander (1996: 27), the wife of the informant family nevertheless collected the blood to make morcellina. This is a familiar archetype in many contemporary Jewish families: despite a desire on the part of one parent to observe "as much as possible" of kashrut, the other one prepares or brings home clearly non-kosher treats. Some recall avoiding meat with milk, not eating eggs with blood-spots, soaking, salting and soaking the meat, and covering the blood of slaughtered animals with dirt (Halevy 1996: 69-71). Use of Kosher wine is also reported: Marie Quintana Snowden wrote me that her family's only Christmas custom was to share a glass of Mögen David Wine (Personal communication, 1998). Isabel Sandoval recalls her family used kosher wine, with a picture on the label of a family sitting around a table wearing funny little hats. Her mother also prepared her own chokecherry wine although she was a member of churches which prohibited wine drinking (1996: 77-8).

Holiday Observances Playing a gambling game with a top, sometimes called ponj saca "Put in and take out" (Hordes 93: 137) often cited as a Hanukkah-like practice, as is lighting one more candle or luminaria bonfire each night, starting over a week before Christmas, so that there are 9 flames at Christmas. The observance of a feast or fast in honor of "Esther" is often cited. Baking of pan de semita ‫״‬Semitic bread" is reported at Easter, a heavy bread that did not rise. Some of the reports—e.g. Mrs. Snowden's wine-sharing—may indicate that practices, if they are to be explained as "Crypto-Jewish" were transferred to a different season or occasion, otners seem at best to have been corrupted by or understood in the light of normative (i.e. "non-crypto-) Jewish practice.

Language One of the first individuals to come to my attention in Denver, a Spanish teacher, noted that the Spanish in Ertnsia Sefardi resembled her village Spanish more than Castillian, Mexican or any of the Latin American dialects. Indeed, some refer to the distinctive dialect of the New Mexico v‫ש‬ages as "Ladino," but any assessment of this issue is beyond our scope here.

Other traditions include Gathering nail clippings, sweeping to the center of a room, next day burial, mourning for a year, bathing after contact with the dead, covering the mirrors in a house of mourning, leaving pebbles on graves, and circumcision. Much is sometimes made of the presence of "Star of David" motifs on gravestones and in churches. Neulander (1996: 29-31) notes that the hexagram was a Christian symbol as well as a Jewish one and that Scholem has shown that it did not become a universal marker of Judaism until modern times. Although Neulander (1971: 269) correctly read Scholem, she nevertheless did not cite Scholem's references to medieval Jewish hexagrams.

Genetic In testing of 18 patients in El Paso and New Mexico associated with a rare genetic disease, it was found that 12 of 13 hispano patients had "genome and protein sequencing associated with Jewish patients" (Hordes 1996: 89). Hordes does not say here whether this relates the hispanos to Ashkenazim or to Sephardic Jews, and the extent to which this relates to observed cultural practices, or any other genetic testing; presumably these issues will be addressed in a medically-oriented report which is being published. Many or indeed most of the elements cited in the literature as identifying "Crypto-Jewish" practices are problematic. Merely identifying Jewish parallels, or for that matter Protestant or Ashkenazi sources, is only part of the story.

Research Literature and Resources Looking at the research literature as a whole, one notes that prior to the early 1980's, there may have been some hints of awareness of aspects of Jewish idenrity among families of colonial Spanish heritage in New Mexico, but essentially the phenomenon was unknown and unreported. Hordes did not begin to note these contemporary survivals until after he had completed his 1980 Ph. D. dissertation on Crypto-Jews on seventeenth century New Spain (Hordes 1996), and the New Mexico phenomenon goes unmentioned by Patai (1996 reprint), or in popular works such as Ross's Acts ofFaith (1982). There were some earlier indicadons of awareness of these traditions, to be sure. Some Rabbis reported inquiries. Tobias recounts items from the 1880's and just prior to 1920 in which there seems to have been awareness of Jewish heritage (Tobias 1990: 20). Fray Angelico Chávez was certainly aware of the New Christian heritage of many families descended from Spanish-period coloniais, and perhaps reflected on the continuing meaningfulness of this heritage in comments on the similarity of his New Mexico homeland to ancient Palestine. (1954, 1974). Given that assertions have been made that Jewish heritage and the survival of customs associated with it was unknown even within the New Mexico community itself, it will probably be useful to gather and analyze as many pre-1980's references as possible. Although preceded by research on southern Texas "Chicano Jews" (Larralde 1978, Santos 1983), the first articles specifically relating to New Mexico CryptoJudaism began to appear in the 1980's. Nidel (1984) published on the New Mexican phenomenon, and Blake wrote a manuscript on "Secret Signs of Judaism in New Mexico," which has never been published (Tobias 1990: 195). After 1985, there seems to have been growing awareness in research and journalism. Halevy has a lengthy list of journalistic articles on the subject stretching back to 1985 (1996: 75, fn 1). Hordes has published several articles, most recendy an illustrated overview in the Journal of the West. Tomas Atencio and Stanley Hordes published a 35-page prospectus for a research project on "The Sephardic legacy of New Mexico" (1987). Roger Parks studied lingustic traits (1988). In 1987, Floyd Fierman's Roots and Boots discussed many aspects of Crypto-Judaism in New Mexico in the sixteenth century, but has only a little to say about it in the twentieth. He calls Angelico Châvez's assertion that his ancestors were Crypto-Jews "charming" (1987: 16) but does not dismiss such claims (143). In 1990, Tobias' History of the Jews of New Mexico, gave a fair but brief description—although to be sure, within the context of a discussion of New Mexico's primarily Ashkenazic Jewish community. The importance and visibility of this motif took a giant leap when Cohen and Peck's Sephardim in the Americas included a full, descriptive chapter on "The Secret Jews of the Southwest" by Florence Hernández (1993). Janet Liebman Jacobs, cited above, is most interested finding evidence of women's transmission of the tradition, a point made by others (e.g. Halevy 1996), and is currendy working on expanding her research, a series of field-work interviews. (Jacobs 1996). Renee Levine

Melammed is preparing a report on this phenomenon for the Israeli publication Peamim (personal communication). Perhaps the most important set of articles on the subject is a series published in the Jewish Folklore and Ethnology Review (henceforth JFER). In 1993, Hordes published a brief note about his ongoing research in contemporary phenomena in JFER; the same volume also included an account of an Iglesia di Dios church in El Paso Texas, with many Jewish-like practices. In 1994, JFER published Judith S. Neulander's "Crypto Jews of the American Southwest: An Imagined Community," in which she described her attempt to do a professional ethnographic field study of this phenomenon, as a dissertation at the University of Indiana. Not surprisingly, she found that several elements prominendy cited as part of a tradition of Crypto-Judaism were unsupportable as proof of its survival from Colonial times. G. Haskell, the editor of the JFER, reports that in response to this article he received "impassioned letters" from both sides: "The emotions on both sides were strong, and the Review, its editor, and the authors were vilified and demonized with vigor." (JFER 1996: 1) JFER decided to do a special issue dedicated to this phenomenon. The issue was dedicated to the memory of Raphael Patai, who had just died, and included reprints Patai's two articles on Venta Prieta, a community near Mexico City which considered themselves to be Jewish. In addition to a second, much longer article by Neulander, there were pieces by Tomâs Atencio, Schulamith C. Halevy, and Isabelle Medina Sandoval, a brief article by David M Gradwohl, a letter from Stanley Hordes, and two letters from individuals within the New Mexico Hispano community. Neulander (1996) analyzed the theology and activities of millenaristic Protestant sects such as the Seventh Day Adventists and Church of God (Spanish: "Iglesia de Dios") in great detail, which she believes provide explanations for several crypto-Jewish practices and traditions, and thus for the phenomenon as a whole. In this she follows Patai, who found just such a background for Venta Prieta, as shown in the reprinted articles. Neulander suggests the Iglesia de Dios model can even explain non-Biblical and highly "Hebraized" customs as lighting candles on Fridays. In the other JFER pieces, Halevy also focuses on the practices, but concentrates on documenting Jewish sources for them in Mishna and Talmud, Shulhan Aruch, responsa of Moshe Hagiz, Ibn Habib and others. Tomds Atencio—one of the individuals described by Neulander as the "primary academic promoters" of the Crypto-Judaic idea—does not come across as a "true believer" in his JFER article. He notes that a "goal of the study, which is to uncover more information to make the hypothesis more plausible, has been partially accomplished [but] ... has not gotten any closer to empirically verifying crypto-Jewish presence in New Mexico." Dr. Sandoval's contribution to this issue is essentially her own story; Gradwohl's describes his initial skepticism but argues for "meaningful scholarly inquiry and civilized debate" (JFER 1996: 84). Some of those who read JFER may feel the editor himself was not totally above the fray, e.g., by the comparison implicit in his comment about those who accept claims about crypto-Judaism uncritically—"That Germans earlier in this century called themselves Aryans did not make it so" (JFER 1996: 86)—or,

more importantly, by titles allowed for Neulander's ardcles and by reprindng Patai's findings about similar claims made in a very different type of community. Nevertheless, JFER's ardcles on the New Mexican phenomenon are well balanced. Haskell correcdy noted that "Neulander does not presume to tell people who they are or are not." But (as JFER found out) Neulander's calling it "an imagined community" had a far stronger impact than had she merely said that a pure crypto-Jewish lineage for the canon elements cannot be supported. Like Patai's work in Venta Prieta, her work carries a deep meaning for this populadon, even or perhaps especially if it is correct. Patai's views seem to have been able to become accepted even within the Venta Prieta community, and may have helped them determine what relationship they want today with Judaism. Although he came to offer a radically different interpretation than they of the genesis of their practices, he did not imply their sense of community was imaginary. Neulander, on the other hand, has not yet and may never overcome the negativity and is perceived with some justice as having called scholars and informants prevaricators, i.e., liars (JFER 1996: 85, 86 f.). Informants' glosses of practices, even if "ethnographically unsupported" are not "lies" but a central key to their own systems of understanding; this is no less true if, as is almost always the case, "remembered" practices include some that were never quite as reported.

Some general comments Crypto-Jewish "foundation narrative" tends to exclude post-colonial influence and heritage elements, to project all elements back to the colonial period or to Spain, and to be articulated in unlikely terms of coherence and purity of culture and heritage, for example, among individuals with only partial Colonial-Jewish heritage (e.g. "My mother was French." In this it is similar to a general phenomenon observed in Santa Fe by Wilson 1997: 312-13). Some elements may indeed go back to secredy-Jewish New Christians, but even if one rejects Neulander's Protestant explanations, some elements cited cannot be explained as uniquely Sephardic survivals or reflect mixing in of outside sources, at least in the way they are presented. Frequendy one encounters Ashkenazic glosses— Purim cakes referred to as Hamentashen, top as dreidle, etc. Ashkenazim have been in New Mexico and northern Mexico for some 150 years, and it seems likely that there may have been some influence and modeling on what openlyJewish individuals were doing, or from reading—those within the tradition always characterize it as intellectual. This process accelerated (or may even have only started) with the changes of the twentieth century, for several reasons: soldiers' World War international experiences, the move from villages to towns and cities, the move from extended kin s hip/village groups to more nuclear families within much more heterogeneous communities, and greater access to a standardized "American" education. Neulander's work also reminds us that especially in the past fifteen years, many terms and glosses adopted by contemporary informants may have been influenced in part by discussions with researchers and journalists, or by reading their reports.

The "canon of New Mexican Crypto-Judaism" is only a part of the story. It may be impossible—and ultimately irrelevant—to explain every last item as either Jewish, converso, Protestant or happenstance in origin. Such concentration on "are they Jews," or "are their traditions Jewish" detracts from an important theme, an openness and interest in Judaism and in the Jewish part of the Spanish heritage. It is difficult to understate the degree to which this appears to be diametrically opposed to long-held attitudes, and it is a change which has taken place primarily in the last fifteen years. N o doubt many claims of heritage, of survival of tradition, or of genealogical purity, are too grandiose, but the primacy given Judaic heritage and identity is striking. It may be misplaced to some outside observers, yet still must be understood and appreciated. Many‫ ׳‬of the leading representatives of this group meet together at various formal and informal venues around the country. For many of them, joining the Jewish community represents four problems. One: Most Jewish communities would require them to undergo formal conversion. This rubs some as the wrong approach: "We have struggled hard to retain our Judaism—and we have to convert? Why can't we be recognized for what we "are"?" The second problem is that for many Judaism—even merely a recognition of Jewish ancestry—represents a very strong break with family Catholicism or with New Mexican Hispano sensibilities. A third problem is theological: many cannot reject some sort of faith in Jesus; some have explored so-called "Messianic" Judaism as an alternative. Fourth, and related to the previous ones: for many the identification with Jews is genealogical and heritage oriented more than religious or cultural. Research needs to focus also on the emerging community of individuals who are making these claims, seeking out the meaning to them of being Jewish, and ways in which they will—or will not—continue the tradition. We may never be able to paint a full picture of "traditional New Mexican Crypto-Judaism," to determine the extent to which it reflects survival of the practices of early coloniai Judaizers, or even to prove it existed. It is perhaps impossibly complicated by the variety of practices and by issues of how practices are remembered. Yet let us not forget that the glossing of these practices as "Jewish" by a significant body of hispanos—in the New Mexico community and elsewhere—is truly an amazing story. Even if many of the reported elements of the canon are slippery and can be interpreted in various ways by scholars, the way they are being interpreted by those who hold them dear, and are alternately pained and exhilarated by them, drives our interest in them. This interpretation, as it is developing and unfolding, requires not romanticization and emotionalism, but further research and understanding.

Bibliography Atencio, T. and Hordes, S. 1987. The Sephardic legacy in New Mexico: A Prospectus. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico, Southwest Hispanic Research Institute. Chávez, F. 1954. Origins of New Mexico Ρ amilies in the Spanish Colonial Period. Santa Fe: Historical Society of N M , (originally published 1954; reprint.) , 1974. My Penitente Land: Reflections on Spanish New Mexico. Albuquerque: U N M Press.

Fierman, F. 1987. Roots and Boots: From Crypto Jew in New Spain. Hoboken: Ktav. Halevy, S. C. 1996. "Manifestations of Crypto-Judaism in the American Southwest."

JFER 18, 68-76. JFER: Jewish Folklore and Ethnology Review. Ed. G. Haskell. Hernández, F. 1993. "Crypto-Jews of the American Southwest." In Cohen and Peck, Sephardim in the Americas. Tuscaloosa: American Jewish Archives. Hordes, S. 1993. '"The Sephardic Legacy in the Southwest Crypto-Jews of New Mexico' Historical Research Project Sponsored by the Latin American Institute, University of New Mexico." JFER 15:2, 137-38.

, 1996. In Journal of the West 35, 82 ff. Jacobs, J. L. 1996. " Women, Ritual and Secrecy: The creation of Crypto-Jewish Culture."

Journalfor the Scientific Study of Religion 35, 97-109. Larralde, C. M. 1978. Chicano Jews in South Texas. Ph. D. Dissertation, UCLA. Neulander, J. S. 1994. "Crypto Jews of the Southwest: An Imagined Community." JFER 16:1,64-68. , 1996. "The Crypto-Jewish Canon: Choosing to be Chosen in the Millenial Tradition." JFER 18:1-2,19-58. Nidel, D. 1984. "Modern descendants of Conversos in New Mexico." WSJHQ 16:3, 194-262.

Parks, P. 1988. Survival of Judeo Spanish Cultural and Linguistic traits among descendants of Crypto-Jews in New Mexico. M.A. Thesis, University of New Mexico, 1988. Patai, R. 1996. "The Jewish Indians of Mexico." [originally published 1950] JFER 18 1 - 2 , 2-12, and "Venta Prieta Revisited." [Originally published 1965] JFER 18:1-2, 13-18.

Ross, D. 1982. Acts of Faith: A Journey to the fringes ofJewish Identity. New York: St. Martin's Press. Sandoval, I. M. 1996. "Abraham's children of the Southwest." JFER 18, 77-82. Santos, R. 1983. "Chicanos of Jewish Descent in Texas." WSJHQ 15: 327-333.

Scholem, G. S. 1971. Τhe Messianic Idea in Judaism and Other Essays on Jewish Spirituality. New York: Schocken.

Tobias, H. J. 1990. A History of the Jews in New Mexico. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press.

Wilson, C. 1997. Myth of Santa Fe: Creation of a Modern Regional Tradition. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press.

TEMAS PANEUROPEOS EN LA TRADICIÔN ORAL DEL ROMANCERO SEFARDI PRESERVACIÔN Y CAMBIO SUSAN A WEICH SHAHAK The Hebrew University, Jerusalem, Israel

Los romances de temas pan-europeos cantados actualmente por los judios sefardies ofrecen una oportunidad de estudiar el fenômeno de preservaciôn y cambio que tiene lugar en el proceso de la transmisiôn oral. En este caso, concretamente, tiene este proceso una significativa dimension tanto histôrica como geogrâfica: una tradiciôn caracterizada por su continuidad en el tiempo, desplegada sobre cinco siglos, y una amph'sima dispersion, abarcando los dos extremos del Mediterrâneo donde los judios establecieron sus comunidades en su éxodo de la Peninsula Ibérica. De ambas áreas geogrâficas, tanto de la Oriental (que fuera entonces el àmbito Otomano, mâs tarde desmembrado en Turquia, Grecia, Yugoslavia y Bulgaria) como de la Occidental (las comunidades sefardies en las ciudades del Norte de Marruecos) provienen los ejemplos que he recogido en mis encuestas en los ultimos 25 anos y que ilustrarân esta presentaciôn. 1 Los ejemplos seleccionados (y elegidos dificultosamente, por la amplitud del repertorio) muestran la preservaciôn de temas que están documentados en fuentes antiguas, temas de la baladistica europea que fueran adoptados por el Romancero hispânico y luego mantenidos en la memoria y en la voz de los sefardies en sus diàsporas. En cuanto a sus origenes, uno de los ejemplos tiene un tema comûn a otros repertorios europeos, otros dos temas, derivan de la épica francesa, y otro de la épica hispánica. Los romances cantados por los judios sefardies muestran, en ciertos casos, cambios o diferencias que se expresan en la utilization de términos y formulaciones que les son propias y exclusivas. Dadas las limitaciones de tiempo, mâs que centrarnos en las semejanzas con las fuentes antiguas de los textos, que ya han sido objeto de vastas y profundas investigaciones, prefiero destacar las particularidades diferenciales de estos romances, asi como senalar, en estos ejemplos, algunos rasgos musicales especificos en cuanto a su melodia, ritmo y estructura formai.

Todas las grabaciones de mis encuestas están catalogadas en el national Sound Archives, en la Jewish National and University Library QNUL) en Jerusalén. Las transcripciones del texto siguen las pautas del Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Cientificas. Véase Hassan, I. M. 1978. "Transcripciôn normalizada de textos judeo-espanoles." Estudios Sefardies 1, 147-150. Para la clasificaciôn de los romances véase Armistead, S. G. (con la colaboraciôn de S. Margaretten, P. Montera y A. Valenciano). 1978. E / Romancero judeo-espanol en el Archivo Mene'ndeç Pidal (Catalogoindice de romancesy canciones). 3 vols. Madrid: Cátedra Seminario Menéndez Pidal.

Estos romances se han conservado en la tradiciôn oral sefardi amparados por su ocasionalidad, que no es necesariamente idéndca a la ocasionalidad del cantar de romances en la tradiciôn oral en Espana. Nuestro primer ejemplo es un tema paneuropeo que se ha conservado entre los sefardies gracias a su encuadre en el ciclo de la vida, como parte consdtudva del repertorio nupcial. El romance de "La vuelta del marido" (polias) solia interpretarse en Salônica en el asi llamado "dia del lavado de lana," cuando la familia de la novia y sus amigas se reunían para lavar y secar la lana con la cual rellenarian los colchones y almohadas para la nueva pareja.2 ^Por qué se incluiria este romance entre las canciones de boda? El nexo podria ser doble: la escena y el mensaje, es decir, por una parte, la coincidencia de la action de los intérpretes sefardies que cantan este romance, que es similar a la escena que présenta el romance, cuando la blanca nifia está lavando (con sus 1ágrimas) y expandiendo o recogiendo (con suspiros) (vss. 1-2) y por otra, el claro y oportuno mensaje del ideal de la fidelidad de la mujer, evidente en la prueba de fidelidad a la cual la mujer es sometida por su marido antes de darse el a conocer. Ambas razones atan este tema a su ocasionalidad nupcial. En sus comentarios a una version de este romance, entre los recogidos por Cynda M. Crews, Armistead y Silverman consideran que el origen del tema es problemâtico: podria estar relacionado con la baladistica angloamericana o con una balada griega de tema semejante (la balada neohelénica: La vuelta del desterrado, en textos de Macedonia, Chios, etc.—balada que inclusive alude a cuarenta cubos que podrian reflejarse en los siete càntaros que llena con sus 1ágrimas la protagonista del romance de Salônica).3 En cuanto al encuentro junto al agua, es tôpico bien conocido en la baladisuca europea y, como en otros romances, el predominio del diâlogo es notable, ya que es a través de él como se desarrolla la trama. Un rasgo pardcular en la version que presentamos es que la cantora utiliza (en v. 7) en lugar de "marido," el término balabay derivado del Hebreo, ba 'alhabayit, literalmente: el duefio de casa. Es un término utilizado en el lenguaje coloquial, hasta castellanizando la forma femenina, para la duefia de casa, "la balabaya," en lugar del hebreo "correcto," que séria: baalat-babayit.

2

3

He tratado ya este tema en Weich-Shahak, S. 1998. "Social Funcdons of the Judeo-Spanish Romances." E n Studies in Socio-Musical Sciences. Ed. J. Braun, and U. Sharvit. Ramat Gan: B a r Ilan University, 245-256. Sobre la ocasionalidad del romance en el area hispánica, vid. Trapero, M. 1994. "Funciones que cumpliô el romancero en Canarias." Actes del Colloqui sobre canco tradicional. Reus 1990. Barcelona: Publicacions de l'Abadia de Montserrat, 195- 209, esp. 195-6. Véase: Armistead, S. G. & Silverman, J. H. 1979. "Sobre los romances y canciones judeoespanoies recogidos por Cynda M. Crews." Estudios Sefardies 2, Miscelânea Crews, 21-38, 25-26. Textos de este romance figuran en Atdas, M. 1961. Romancero sefaradi: Romanças y cantes populäres en judeo-espanol. 2" ed., Jerusalem, N° 19, en Diaz Plaja, G. 1934. "Aportaciôn al cancionero judeo espanol del Mediterrâneo oriental." Boletin de ta Biblioteca Mene'ndeç Pelayo 16, 44—61, N ° 8, y en Molho, M. 1960. Literatura Sefardita de Oriente. Madrid-Barcelona: CSIC, Institute Arias Montano, 81-82 (Nos. 14,15). Version discogrâfica de este romance, cantado por otra informante de Salônica, en Weich-Shahak, S. 1980. Sephardic Songs of the Balkans. Jerusalem: Music Research Centre, y en Weich—Shahak, S. 1993. Cantaresy romances tradicionates sefardies de Oriente (CD). Madrid: Tecnosaga.

Nôtese también una incongruencia en la exposition del relato, en el v. 15, cuando, en el desarrollo del diâlogo, la dama, hablando en primera persona, dice: "bivdica (es decir: viudita) quedara ella," en vez de la formulation mâs lôgica "bivdica quedara yo," alteration relacionada con el temor a atraer la mala suerte, que podria conectar la temida viudez con la propia mujer que está cantando este romance. En cuanto a su estructura formai, en la relaciôn entre texto y mûsica, podemos notar que este romance está cantado (como es lo usual en Salônica) repitiendo los versos ûltimos de una estrofa musical para la primera parte de la siguiente estrofa musical. Fenômenos similares de encadenaciôn de estrofas han sido observados en baladas cantadas en Escandinavia.4 La mûsica refleja la concepciôn melôdica del Oriente otomano: la melodia de este romance en la version de nuestro ejemplo, corresponde al modo llamado makam Kurd, semejante al modo de Mi, que también es frecuente en el repertorio traditional de Espana (aunque la frecuente alteration del II grado y la importancia del V apuntan al makam Husseyni que conocemos en otras versiones de este romance). 5 Otra caracteristica comûn a otros romances cantados por los sefardies es la de tener, en la tercera frase musical, una linea melôdica descendiente que llega hasta la subtônica (una nota por debajo de la finalis).6 Nuestro ejemplo dene ritmo libre, sin compâs fijo, con abundantes notas de adorno, ornamentaciones o melismas que se sitûan justamente en los finales de frase. "La vuelta del marido" (polias): cantado por René Bivas (Salônica), grabado en Tel Aviv, el 31 de enero de 1996, NSA VID Y 5283c/4.

10

15

4

5

6

Lavaba la blanca nina, con 1ágrimas la lavaba, Por ahi paso un caballero, de 1ágrimas de sus ôjos - ς P o r qué Lloras, blanca nina? —Todos vienen de la guerra, - D á m e sinal, mi sinora, —Alto, alto como'l pino, su barbica roya tiene, - Y a lo vide yo, mi sinora, una hora antes que muriera mujer hermosa yo tengo, y la de très, mi sinora, - O n d e siet'anos l'asperi, si al de ocho non viene, - N o n llores" mâs, blanca nina,

lavaba y espandia, con suspiros la 'spandia. copo d'agua le demandé, siete cantaricas le hinchô. mi sinora, ^por qué lloras? al qu'aspero non hay tornar. sinal del vuestro balabay. y derecho como es la flécha, empezandol'a despuntar. a la guerra matado sta, très palabricas me hablô: hi)ic0s c o m o es el sol, que me casara yo con vos. otros siete lo vo 'sperar, bivdica quedara ella. non Dores ni queres llorar:

Vid. Dal, E. 1958. "The linked stanza in Danish Ballads: its age and its analogues." Journal of the Internationa! Folk Music Council 10, 35-37. Se denomina en Dinamarca: gentagelsesstrofe, y en Suecia: upprepningsstrofe (35). Sobre el modo de Mi en el repertorio peninsular, véanse en Manzano Alonso, M. 1989. "Estudio musicolôgico." En Cancionero Popular de Castilby Leon, Romances, canciones y dansas de tradiciôn oral. Coord. L. Diaz Viana y M. Manzano Alonso. Salamanca: Centro de Cultura Traditional. Vol. I, 41-116, sus referencias a este modo, su difusiôn y sus dpos, en 55-57. Vid. Etzion, J. y Weich-Shahak, S. 1988. "The Music of the J u d e o - Spanish Romancero: Stylistic Features." Anuario Musical 43, 221-256.

yo so'el vuestro marido,

el q u ' asperas de la guerra.

- S i sos el mi m a r i d o —En el p e c h o de ezquiedro

sifial d e mi p u e r p o daráš. ahí teneš un b u e n lunar.

Además de otras funciones en el repertorio luctuoso y en el repertorio fesdvo, la preservation de los romances entre los sefardies se debe a su ocasionalidad de acompanar las labores de la mujer sefardi. Precisamente, el llegar algo mâs temprano de lo previsto a una encuesta con Henriette Benchimol, oriunda de Tanger, nos permidô grabarla cuando cosia y cantaba el romance de "Gerineldo" ο "El paje y la infanta." Se trata de un tema muy conocido tanto entre los sefardies del Norte de Africa como en Espana, y en especial en Andalucia. Es un tema carolingio, sobre los amorios de Erna, hija de Carlomagno, con el secretario de su padre, Eginhard, que en la tradiciôn hispánica deviene Gerineldo, y en la sefardi, Girineldo. 7 La mûsica de este romance dene un ritmo de base, del dpo de la hemiola— ritmo frecuente en la mûsica palaciega y popular, con 12 dempos en dos compases de 6, uno de ellos formado por 3+3, y el otro por 2+2+2. Esta estructura ritmica puede discernirse aûn cuando se interpréta, como en nuestra version con más libertad, lo que se llama "tempo rubato." En cuanto al texto, no difieren demasiado las versiones sefardies de las andaluzas, pero si en un verso de formulaciôn propia y exclusiva: cuando Girineldo, citado por la infanta, llega a su puerta y da un suspiro (o en otras versiones, golpea a la puerta) la princesa pregunta: "Quién es ése o cuàl es ese?" (v. 16) formulaciôn que no aparece en las versiones espanolas. "Gerineldo" (o "El paje y la infanta"), cantado por Henriette Benchimol (Tánger), grabado en Bat Yam, el 31 de enero de 1996, NSA VID Y5283a/3.

5

10

Q u i é n tuviera tal fortuna c o m o tuvo Girineldo L i m p i a n d o pano de seda mirândole está la reina -Girineldo, Girineldo, quién te m e diera esta n o c h e - C o m o soy vuestro criado, - N o m e burlo, Girineldo, - ç A qué horas vendré, senora? - A eso d e la media n o c h e , A las diez se acuesta el rey, y a las doce, Girineldo, M e d i a n o c h e ya es pasada - M a l h a y a tu, Girineldo,

para ganar lo perdido mananita de domingo. para dar al rey vestido, desde su alto castillo, mi caballero polido, très horas a mi servicio! senora, burlâis c o n m i g o . que de veras te lo digo. j a qué h o r a s daré al castillo? c u a n d o canta el gallo p r i m o . a las o n c e está d o r m i d o , rondarâs tú mi castillo. y Girineldo no ha venido. y quien a m o r p u s o c o n u g o .

Véase el amplisimo estudio sobre este romance: Menéndez Pidal, R. 1954. "Cômo vive un romance—Dos ensayos sobre tradicionalidad." Revista de Fi/o/ogia Espanola: Ane/os, 60. Otras versiones de este romance, de mi colecciôn, en el estudio interdisciplinario de Alexander, T., Benabu, I., Ghelman, Y., (Rodrigue) Schwarzwald, O. y Weich-Shahak, S. 1994. "Towards a Typology of the Judeo-Spanish Folksong: Gerineldo and the Romance Model." Jewish Oral Traditions. An Interdisciplinary Approach. Jerusalem: Yuval—Studies of the Jewish Music Research Centre, vol. VI, 1994, 68-163.

Y ella en estas palabras,

a su puerta dio un suspiro. que a mi puerta da un suspiro? que vengo a lo prometido. por ella se habia subido para que no fuera sentido, los dos se quedan dormidos.

—(Quién es ése 0 cual es ése -Girineldo soy, senora, Tirôle escalera de oro, con zapatito de seda, y entre besos y abrazos

20

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» H

r

Quién tu-

vie- ra tal for-

co- mo

na

ΛJ-

>1—

* H

tu-

R

pa- ra

V- γ

‫—ן‬V.J— - A

—0

tu- vo Gi-

ga- nar lo

per-

di- do

τ

v II

H ri-

nel-

do ma-

fia-

· ta de ni-

do-

min-

go

Esta misma formulation aparece en otros romances del repertorio sefardi, como "Melisenda insomne" (version de Tetuán) y "El moro que reta a Valencia" (versiôn de Tánger). El romance de "Melisenda insomne," proviene también de la épica francesa, probablemente importada en la Peninsula Ibérica por los numerosos trovadores provenzales y franceses en las cortes hispánicas y es otro de los romances que solamente se mandene en la tradiciôn oral sefardi, aunque hay fuentes de su texto en pliegos y colecciones del siglo XVI.8 Es un tema cantado también por los sefardies de Oriente (con el bien conocido incipit: "Noches noches, buenas noches, noches son de namorar"), basado en varias fuentes, entre ellas, el poema de Amis et Amile sobre la hija de Carlomagno, Belissent (que deviene Melisenda o Belisera).9 Cuando Belisera, que no puede dormir por su ardiente amor por el conde Nino (originalmente Amile) (vss. 1—4) va a tomar consejo de sus damas de honor y una de ellas, Clara nina, se présenta, observamos como, propio de la verdente sefardi, se utiliza un término en hakiu'a, la lengua de los judios sefardies en el Norte de Africa: "ahi se alhadrô Clara nina," del árabe: bader - presentarse (v. 12). Y cuando Belisera golpea a la puerta de su bienamado, él pregunta, como en el romance anterior: "Quién es ése o cuàl es ése?" (v. 28), formulation que es propia del Romancero Judeo-espanol, no utilizada en el repertorio peninsular.

8

Sobre la presencia de trovadores provenzales en Espafia, desde el siglo XII, véase el detallado estudio de Milà y Fontanals, M. 1964. De los trovadores en Espana. Ed. C. Marunez y F. R. Manrique. Barcelona: CSIC, Patronato Menéndez Pelayo, 53-231. Fuentes antiguas de "Melisenda insomne" en el Libro en el que se contienen cincuenta romances. En Rodriguez Monino, A. 1962. Los pliegos poe'ticos de la Co/ecciôn del Marques de Morbecq (siglo ΧΙΊ). Madrid, vol. IV, 166. En Armistead 1978: I, 125. Versiones discogrâficas de este romance, en Weich-Shahak, S. 1991. Cantaresy Romances tradidonales sefardies de Marruecos. CD, Madrid: Tecnosaga, N ° 24, reproducido en Fraile, J. M. 1992. Romancero Panhispanico. Salamanca: Centro de Cultura Tradicional y Junta de Castilla y Leôn, B.b.4.

9

Sobre el exodsmo del nombre Melisenda, véase Di Stefano, G. 19782. E! Romancero. Madrid: Narcea, 36-37.

"Melisenda insomne" (á-e)—cantado por Alicia Bendayan (Tetuán), grabado en Ashqelon, el 27 de febrero de 1990, NSA VID Y 4498a/3. (Transcribo de la version solamente los versos citados.)

4 8 10 12 25

Todas las aves dormian, non dormia Belisera, de amores del conde Nino vueltas daba en la su cama

cuantas Dios criaba y mades, la hija del Emperante: que se queria finare, como pececito en mare

Fuérase para los palacios -Buenas noches, mis doncellas! - Q u e las que sabis de amor y las que no lo sabian Y ahi se alhadrô Clara Nina,

donde sus doncellas yacen. -Belisera, bien vengâdeis! consejo me habeis de dare, que se aparten a un lugare. moza era y de andgua edade.

Fuérase para los palacios golpecito dio a la puerta, si non era el conde Nino

donde el conde Nino yace, nadie que la respondia que velaba y non dormia.

-iQuién es ése 0 cuál es ése -BeLišera soy, el conde,

que a mi puerta combada? que de amor por d moria.

También en el romance de "El moro que reta a Valencia" o "Bûcar sobre Valencia," cuando el moro se acerca a la ventana donde lo espera, para atraerle y distraerle, la hija del Cid, la Urraca, acicalada y ataviada con sus mâs hermosas ropas, al oirle venir ella pregunta también: "Quién es ése o cuàl es ése?" (v. 39) "El moro que reta a Valencia," cantado por Henriette Benchimol (Tánger), grabado en Bat Yam, el 31 de enero de 1996, NSA V I D Y 5283a/1. —}Quién es ése 0 cual es ése —El Cidi soy, mi senora,

que se pasa y no me habla? que por d entrego mi aima!

He encontrado que esta formulaciôn corresponde a la traducciôn al ladino de un versiculo del libro de Ester: Mi bu ve'eiye bu en el Libro de Ester, que se lee ritualmente en la festividad de Purim, son las palabras que originalmente pronuncia el rey Asuero preguntando a la reina Ester por quien se habia propuesto aniquilar a los judios de Persia, su ministro Amán. 10 La utilization de "quién es ése o cuàl es ése," frase propia y exclusiva de los romances sefardies puede estar relacionada precisamente con el Libro de Ester, tema apreciado por la similitud de la situaciôn para quienes, como los judios en Espana, vivian en Persia como una minoria que podia estar en peligro. Es mâs, es una de las pocas historias biblicas que transcurren en la diàspora, y es un libro en el cual, como es el caso en los romances, es el personaje femenino quien decide la action. Y hay indicios

10

En la traducciôn de la Biblia en ladino B. Haim, I. 1813-1816. Sefer arbaà-ve-esrim, 4 vols. Viena: "Libro de Ester." Capitulo 7, versiculo 5. Agradezco a Iacob M. Hassán el haber puesto a mi disposition esta publication para controlar la cita. El texto biblico en hebreo dice: ‫ו י א מ ר ה מ ל ך א ה ש ו ר ו ש ו י א מ ר ל א ס ת ר ה מ ל כ ה מ י ה ו א זה ואיזה ה ו א מ ל א ו ל ב ו ל ע ש ו ת כן‬ Me observa el Prof. Mesod Salama (en comunicaciôn personal, 1998) que la mencionada pregunta en la Biblia, a diferencia de los romances, dene una connotation negativa.

de que los judios solian leer el Libro de Ester en traducciôn, en la mesa festiva de Purim, ya antes de la expulsion de Espana. En cuanto a la difusiôn de este pasaje parece ser que mi hu ve'eiye hu era una expresiôn conocida y fue utilizada en varios poemas litûrgicos de creation erudita. Citaremos solo dos poetas sefardies: Mosé Zacut, eminente cabalista italiano, nacido en Amsterdam en 1625, amigo de juventud de Baruj Spinoza, muerto en Mantua en 1667. Mosé Zacut utiliza esta expresiôn en Y sod Olam, un poema sobre los patriarcas: ‫מי הוא זה ואיזה הוא‬ ‫אשר בבעל שלח כצר‬ ‫ידו בעזות מ צ ח‬ Y esta misma frase en un poema moralista de Mosé ben Gideon Abudiente (miembro de una respetada familia sefardi de marranos, vuelta al judaismo en Amsterdam): ‫מי הוא זה ואיזה הוא‬ ‫מחוסר דעת‬ ‫ו ח ט א וירשיע בעזות מ צ ח‬ Es más: esta frase era conocida también por los judios no sefardies, los asquenazies de la Europa oriental. Asi se utiliza en la poesia religiosa también entre ellos:" ‫ זה לקבל זה‬/ ‫התקבצו מלכים זה אל זה‬ ‫ מי הוא זה ואיזה הוא‬/ ‫ואמר זה לזה‬ ‫ פרשז עליו עננו‬/ ‫מ א ח ז פני כסא‬ Y en nuestros dias, los hasidim en las sinagogas de Batei Rand, en Jerusalen, agregan o intercalan esta expresiôn dentro de un poema de origenes remotos (se reconoce como del siglo vi), ‫( אדרת ואמונה‬poema de acrôstico alfabético, en una serie de preguntas sobre la grandeza de Dios) cuando lo cantan en la festividad de Simhat Torâh.

Conclusion Es dificil concluir un tema tan amplio, al cual una presentaciôn limitada no permite hacer justicia. Con todo hemos intentado conocer al menos algunos de los temas medievales pan-Europeos provenientes de la épica hispánica y francesa, que están enraizados en el repertorio poético musical sefardi, algunos de ellos ya olvidados en la tradiciôn oral de la Peninsula Ibérica. Hemos observado algunas caracteristicas de estos romances, como la utilization de términos de la hakitia y del hebreo, la cita de una formulation propia de origen biblico, y algunos rasgos musicales en cuanto a melodia, a ritmo y a estructura formai que caracterizan al Romancero sefardi.

11

Véase: Mahaspr Sukko/, Semini 'usent we-Simhat Torah, le-fi minhage bene Askenaç le-ko! 'anafeha. Ed. D. Goldschmidt, Compl. Y. Frankel. Jerusalem: Ed. Koren. Mi agradecimiento al Profesor Ezra Fleischer, de la Universidad Hebrea de Jerusalén y al Profesor Efraim Hazan, de la Universidad de Bar Ilan por su asesoramiento en la idenuficaciön de los piyutim que cito.

E L ALMA: EL CUERPO : : EL PILOTO : LA NAVE {DE

EL REGIMIENTO

ANIMA

413A8)

DE LA VIDA DE M O S H E ALMOSNINO JOHN ZEMKE University of Missouri, USA

El principio de la vida Observa Saadya Gaon en el Libro de doctnnasy creenâas que lo que da un dia placer al otro puede disgustar (1946: 100n1). Lecciôn parecida ensena la Gemara en el caso acaecido al rabi Yehoshua Ben Hananiah. Ante una encrucijada, el rabí pregunta a un chico cuàl es el camino para la ciudad y éste le responde que uno es corto y largo y el otro largo y corto, sutileza que el caminante llega a entender por propia experiencia (Eruvin 53b).1 El ejemplo talmûdico, que da expresiôn al tôpico senex puer, el nino sabio, epitome clàsico de la Prudencia, aparece en el Regimiento de la vida (RV) disfrazado de su aspecto contrario, el viejo necio. 2 Que RV está pensado como guia imprescindible para el joven al comienzo de la vida queda patente en el discurso con que concluye el penùltimo capitulo al evocar los dos caminos del cuento talmûdico verddos al idioma filosôfico. 3 Corto y largo es el camino de quien dene el intelecto sometido a la imagination, y éste se anda a la flor del berro; largo y corto es el del virtuoso que se acostumbra a régir sus aperitos con la vara del intelecto. Escribe Saadya Gaon que todos los libros comprenden très elementos principales: (1) un listado de mandamientos y prohibiciones; (2) las recompensas y los castigos fruto de aquéllos; y (3) una relation de los buenos que hicieron obras provechosas y recibieron su premio, y de los malos que se corrompieron y perecieron. Asegura que solo cuando se combinan estos très aspectos está compléta la instruction necesaria para una vida virtuosa (1946: 109).

La mitad de la vida El capitulo noveno del primer libro del R l ^ e s una lecciôn sobre los modos mâs adecuados de comportarse en compaiiia de los mayores, el maestro y el padre. 4

1

2 ‫נ‬

4

Cito siempre de mi transliteration de la ediciôn salonicense aljamia de Yosef Yaabes (1564). Almosnino consigna este cuento al comprobar una sentencia acerca de las virtudes y los vicios (134a). Curdus detalla el origen y la expansion del tôpico en el mundo clàsico (1953: 98-101). Almosnino escribe: "I 'es de notar kel prinsipy'o del kamino de nu'esa vida se reparte 'en dos modos muy dif+erenteš 'el 'uno del 'otro ke kuando las 'obras 'umanas se mu'ebe 'el 'ombre a'elyyas por parte del 'entendimyento šeran las 'obras perf+ektas 'i 'enkaminaran" (133b) PU'ES kuando 'espertare 'el moso del primer su'enyyo de su mosedad a'el tyenpo delà veges kuando yya los visy'os no halyyan poder para ser pu'estos 'en a'uto 'estiry'or kuando ya son dešte-

Poco después de entrar en materia, el capitulo se desvia de su tema central para iniciar una censura a la ociosidad, y mâs concretamente, a la holganza en la que languidece el joven, tema que se repite en éste y en otros muchos pasajes del tratado. El repentino excursus cumple los très elementos prescritos por Saadya Gaon: un planteamiento, no hay que estar ocioso; unas consecuencias previsibles, el ocio acarrea la ruina personal; y el balance particularizado alegôricamente. Proyectados sobre la imaginatio del lector, los efectos negadvos se materializan en una vision onirica del futuro trance hecho présente: una catâstrofe maritima, el naufragio, en el que se recoge en clave la idea fundamental, esto es, que el joven tiene que adquirir las virtudes requeridas para ejercitar el intelecto, o atenerse a las consecuencias. Porque la juventud es el tiempo en que el organismo y los sentidos están a punto para aprender la ciencia, esto es, la dialéctica, ciencia a la que se llama metafôricamente "la provision necesaria para la vida humana" (33b), que da fuerza al hombre para poder alcanzar el verdadero fin de la vida, la especulaciôn teolôgica.5 Almosnino quiere que su lector esté prevenido contra

rados por la f+lakeza delà materyya 'i se halyyare f+alto de todo loke , imagmaba pose'er desprove'ido delà provizy'on ke para , el f+in desta gornada de nu'estra breve vida le 'es nesesary'o privado del byen ke para rekuperarlo 'es menešter 'enpesar ta gornada de prinsipy'o apartado delà gloryya ke para šyenpre gamas 'a 'elyya se podra alyegar [...] < C 34a> akaesele al rustiko pekador del vyego desprobe'ido dešu probizy'on para su 'inf+ortuno vyage lo ke akaese ala nave ke 'enel grande mar se 'engolf+a desprobe'ida de loke le'es nesesary'o para regisdr al 'inpetu del tenpešte'ozo vyento ke 'esta tal despu'es delà grande vis+asy'on navegando kon tan grande tenpestad rotas las vêlas delà 'ešperansa derokado 'el mastil delà f+y'uzyya ke konel navegando 'o byen , o mal algo la hazian mober perdido por postre 'el timon para , enderesar al kamino derego todos los 'ignorantes marineros kansados desanimado 'el piloto sin saber ado bolverse ni poder a'un kelo sepa vyendo desbaratados todos los medy'os ke para su vyage tanto menester avi'a K E tal se f+alyyara la desaventurada nave rodeada de vyentos kontrary'os ke por todas partes la kon()b[a]ten no pudyendo kon ninguno navegar ningun remed[y]'o 'espera D E la misma manera akaese al triste vyego 'ensu dešbaratada vegeš perdido 'i korupto 'el 'entendimyento gobernador desta araf+isy'oza kongregasy'on de[ ] 'insturmentos 'i 'enšaršf)yaš delà nabe de nu'estro k u ' e φ 0 de kyen ,el 'es patron 'i piloto , engolf+andose 'enel brabo mar delos visy'os konkistado delos kontraryos vyentos del 'apetito konkupisible 'i 'irasible los kuales de konüno le af+atigan '1 araštan de 'una parte 'a 'otra kon šuš teribles 'ondas vinyendo ya ala veges kuando los 'inšturment0š korporales son tan f+lakos ke no pu'eden korer kon los vyentos delos apedtos susedyendole por postre , el vyento del deze'o delà kontenplasy'on no pudyendo ya konel navegar por šer kebradas las velas delos senddos kon los kuales se 'egersita 'el 'entendimyento halyyandose , entre 'estas dos aperitos tan kontrary'os 'el 'uno porsu natural de kerer saber lo kual todos dezean 'el , otro por 'el kostumbre kede tanto tyenpo 'enlas 'entranyyas se araygo aplikado 'a segir los korporales de1eyt(v)[e]š ke 'inpiden 'el saber f+altando abilidad para kual kyera de los dos ningun remedy'o mas syerto 'espera kela des'esperada mu'erte ke konelyya se perdona la mayor parte de šuš pekados 'i si antes ke mu'era no 'esta tan korupta la veluntad ke pu'eda 'enderesar al servisy'o del Dyyo 'i arepentirše de todo lo pasado , es byen remedyyado sin f+alta '(33b-34a). Almosnino parte del supuesto de que la especulaciôn intelectual perfeccionada con paciencia corroborarà las doctrinas del judaismo. Hace el acostumbrado distingo entre la doctrina que se acepta por fe religiosa (ut. 'Amanah) y la creencia firme a la que se llega por especulaciôn intelectuai (ar. Vtikad). Para esta difereciaciôn y los términos árabes véase Gaon (1946:18-19). 'Provisiôn' es término definido por el Diccionario de las autoridades: "Se llaman también los mismos mantenimientos o cosas que se previenen y denen prontas para algun fin." La provision de la que se trata aqui es "la sensy'a" que se define de varias veces en RV: "la 'espikulasy'on 'en las kozaš ke , el , entendimyento alkansa por medyyo de los primeros prinsipy'os ke tomando los primeros prinsipy'os por primisaš haze še10gišm0s , i 'el abito , enel alma del kual prosede saber akelyya

cualquier engafio, y que ponga a punto los mecanismos sensibles para no renunciar a una formation intelectual y espiritual que el inevitable decaimiento fisiolôgico torna irrealizable. Las dos clàusulas correladvas de la analogia mencionada, además de englobar una cuesdôn medular del tratado, cômo el ejercitar el intelecto aedvo perfecciona el ánima y fundamenta la especulaciôn sobre Dios, incluyen el nùcleo de la similitudo particular del tema: no estar ocioso. Iniciado in médias res, se plasma en una narration bimodal, en parte catafôrica—el joven está obligado a contemplarse trans formado en viejo abobado—y en parte anafôrica—el futuro viejo lamenta su pretérita juventud—paradoja ontolôgica que agudiza el patetismo del viejo ignorante, protagonista de su propia tragedia, en quien el joven lector se reconoce; esa identification extrema la empatia y aumenta la potencia de la anagnorisis deseada. Los très aspectos temporales, pasado, futuro y presente, se conjugan en uno solo, salto conceptual que permite al lector tomar conciencia de su situation, y le invita a elegir la prudencia antes que la insensatez. El caso del viejo imprevisor del ejemplo tiene su origen en el descuido del joven, que con el tiempo alcanza unas dimensiones inesperadas. El ocio, convertido en costumbre arraigada, domina al que lo practica, lo vence irremediablemente de por vida, cosa que se expresa mediante la metâfora del barco sacudido por la tempestad. 6 La narration enfoca a cámara lenta la imagen del naufragio y la amplia, tratando de que haga mella en el ànimo de Moshe Garçon, sobrino carnal de Almosnino y destinatario de su tratado, todo el peso ideolôgico y cotidiano de los versos del salmista: "Ensénanos de tal modo a contar nuestros dias, que traigamos al corazôn sabiduria" (Sal 90,12). Súp1ica que el do materno puntualiza al enjuiciar la constancia de los jôvenes: "kualkier koza aunke flaka abasta para destruirlos de las obras de la virtud" (33b).7 La analogia el aima : el cuerpo :: el piloto : la nave, propia de los presocrâticos, alude a temas relacionados con las doctrinas biblicas del libre albedrio y del dominio que dene y ejerce el Creador sobre su creaciôn. En esta lecciôn de signo maritimo, acaso la primordial del tratado, se entrecruzan varios hilos filosôficos, literarios y rabinicos. Almosnino présenta una vision terrible del anciano, confuso, desolado y arruinado, la imprevisiôn hecha persona. Viéndose a bordo de la nave de su catástasis, se siente sorprendido por la catâstrofe inevitable que acaba con su ilusiôn, dejàndole sin esperanza de mejora, sin posibilidad de salir a ilote y prosperar. El futuro viejo se ve totalmente derrotado por los desastrosos efectos de un error no rectificado a tiempo. Almosnino da la vuelta al tôpico del senex puer, el nino sabio, transformândolo en el senex puerilis, el viejo aninado, pretendiendo de esta manera que su lector

porpozisy'on por 'enteresisy'on de akelyyos primeros prinsipy'os se lyyama sensy'a" (127b); Véase también 128b y 129a. Lausberg afirma que la alegon'a de la navegaciôn "para la direcciôn de los negocios de estado y para la vida individual, especialmente en dempos peligrosos, se ha converddo, por tradiciôn escrita y tácita, en patrimonio de la consuetudo lingüisdca" (1983: 213). Amonestacion que se hace bastantes veces al lector de este speculum renacendsta en el que se contempla a la luz de la ciencia polidea aristotélica en su version rabinica.

restablezca la relation originaria de los términos para librarse asi de las consecuencias terribles de la imprudencia. El lector, testigo presencial de su propia evolution vital, asiste al desenlace de una pelea interior librada entre la razôn y los apetitos irascible y concupiscible. Esos apetitos están en teoria supeditados al intelecto activo. Pero éste, atrofiado y falto de la virtud intelectual que tendria que haber perfeccionado el lector, no tiene control alguno sobre aquéllos, y queda indefenso, como perdedor, como un ejemplo negativo del comportamiento que desea y recomienda Almosnino. La analogia que vertebra este pequeno drama se conoce desde los filôsofos presocrâticos, y es ya lugar comûn cuando Aristoteles lo cita en De anima 413a8, su locus clasicus. En un magnifico estudio de revision y anâlisis, Theodore Tracey ha reunido a partir de los comentarios clàsicos y medievales un ejemplario exhaustivo del simil, del que se desprende que tiene très significados: uno alude a que el alma puede separarse del cuerpo; otro, al modo en que el alma está presente en el cuerpo; y, el tercero, al control que tiene el alma sobre los cambios en el cuerpo (Tracey, 99). Senala el clasicista que por el piloto se entendia la funciôn gobernante del alma, el alma inteligente, el νους platônico, que ejerce control dinâmico dirigiendo o determinando las acdvidades del organismo; y por la nave, un organismo vivo en movimiento (Tracey, 103). Si localizar el origen de la analogia no présenta mayores dificultades (es lôgico que Almosnino la conociera por sus lecturas de Aristoteles, Plotino, Ternistio, ο Averroes), no está igualmente claro lo que se refiere a la similitude que encierra. Aunque algunos de sus elementos inducen a pensar que se elaborô a partir de motivos biblicos y rabinicos, o incluso de Ovidio, pudo darse también alguna experiencia particular relacionada con el mar que animara a Almosnino a escenificar en él su alegoria de la Prudencia. Exception hecha de una referencia al paso por el mar rojo (97a), las otras alusiones al piélago desperdigadas por R K c o m p o r t a n una valoraciôn negativa o, aluden cuando menos al peligro que acompana siempre al navegante.‫״‬

Textos homôlogos de la similitudo A fin de esbozar el alcance de la analogia aristotélica y su escenificaciôn, conviene pasar revista a un muestrario de los paralelos biblicos y rabinicos que pudo tener Almosnino mâs a mano al redactar el pasaje del que aqui se trata. La actitud desconfiada hacia el mar se realza en el sermon predicado por Almosnino en el Talmud Torah salonicense al volver de su embajada a Constandina, très anos después de impreso el R K ' Tomando como tema Elleh Fequde, "Estas son las cuentas del tabernâculo" (Ex 38,32), cita a condnuaciôn el 8

'

Botôn de muestra es el mar acusatorio levantado en un razonamiento sobre la verdad: " 'i no ayy mayor mal ,i ke mas deroke '[a]el kelo tyene ke šentirše 'uno kulpado 'ensi mismo ke 'este tal anda komo mar tenpeste'ozo akuzado kondnu'a mente del tesrigo ke 'ensu aima tyene ke nunka sesa delo atormentar (38a). Otros casos incluyen: "El rodo molino temerozo para los navegantes" (27a); el redro de las aguas del mar de los carrizos (97a); y el ejemplo del loco que presencia como se ahoga una mujer en las aguas del mar contentândose con ver sus pechos desnudos cuando la puede socorrer (107a). Me'amtf Koah, sermon 1; traduciôn inglesa en Saperstein (1989).

Salmo 107 (107,8, 15, 21, 31) y Bera&t 54b: "Dijo Rab Judá en nombre de Rav: cuatxo necesitan dar acciôn de gracias: los que atravesaron el mar, [...] Qué bendiciôn ha de decir? Bendito sea el que otorga su misericordia." 10 Al concluir sus palabras, Almosnino afirma que de las cuatro condiciones enumeradas, hacerse al mar es la que ocasiona mayor peligro, y que Dios muestra su maravillosa providencia con los que llegan a buen puerto mâs que con cualesquiera otros; por tanto, son ellos los que mâs obligaciôn denen de dar las gracias. Acerca del acervo de referencias maritimas que se condenen en los textos biblicos se afirma que: "las alusiones poédcas a las naves y los marineros están relacionadas con la antigua tradiciôn mitica del dominio sobre el mar que posee Dios," 11 motivo ejemplificado en el paso por el mar rojo (cf. el càndco de Moisés y Miriam, Ex 14 y 15). El Salterio incluye numerosos casos del poder divino sobre los elementos: "Con viento solano quiebras Tu las naves de Tarsis" (Sal 48,7). Tiene interés especial para el conocimiento de las posibles fuentes de Almosnino el referido Salmo 107, que narra en râpidos versiculos el terror sembrado entre los tripulantes cuando les sobreviene el torbellino y se desvanecen los conocimientos de su arte: 2 3 L o s q u e d e s c i e n d e n al m a r en naves, y h a c e n n e g o c i o en las m u c h a s aguas 2 4 Ellos h a n v i s t o las o b r a s d e el D i o s , y sus maravillas en las p r o f u n d i d a d e s . 25 26 27 28 29

P o r q u e h a b l ô , e h i z o levantar u n v i e n t o t e m p e s t u o s o , q u e e n c r e s p a sus o n d a s . S u b e n a los cielos, d e s c i e n d e n a los a b i s m o s ; sus aimas se derriten c o n el mal. T i e m b l a n y t i t u b e a n c o m o ebrios, y t o d a su ciencia es inûtil. E n t o n c e s c l a m a n a D I O S e n su a n g u s d a , y los libra d e sus aflicciones C a m b i a la t e m p e s t a d en sosiego, y se apaciguan sus o n d a s .

30 L u e g o se alegran p o r q u e se a p a c i g u a r o n ; y asi los guia al p u e r t o q u e d e s e a b a n . (Sal 1 0 7 , 2 3 - 3 0 ) •2

Entre los textos proféticos descuella el de Ezequiel (los capitulos 27 y 28) cuando, al vadcinar a Tiro su destruction, concreta que los sabios de Tiro fueron sus pilotos (27,8) y pone de relieve la terrible muerte que padece el ahogado: "y morirás con la muerte de los que mueren en medio de los mares" (28,8).13 El primer capitulo de Jonâs cuenta su naufragio, y además de plantear el dominio del Creador sobre los vientos y las aguas, pone en paralelo el casco del barco y el cuerpo humano, por la fragilidad de ambos, y compara el sueno con el engano o la ignorancia. A esos pasajes se alude implicitamente al comienzo del exemplum de Almosnino. Las muestras recogidas coinciden en subrayar la soberania del Creador, y su misericordia al socorrer al que le invoca arrependdo de sus errores. Una diferencia notable: el exemplum de Almosnino no contempla una posible intervention divina para enderezar al individuo; prefiere subrayar las consecuencias irreversi10

" 12

13

Mi traducciôn (Saperstein, 20-221). "Poeric references to ships and sailors relate to the anciet mythic tradidon of God's power over the sea" (Oxford Companion to the Bible, 694 [mi traducciôn]). También son importantes Sal 77,19, que se refiere a Ex 14, y Sal 104,25-26: "He alli el grande y anchuroso mar, en donde se mueven seres innumberables, seres pequeiios y grandes. Alli andan las naves." Los versiculos importantes del Salmo son 27,5—8, y 27, 26-28.

bles que ha tenido el comportamiento del protagonista, destacando asi la imprudencia de quien errô el camino de su vida, y no hizo suyo el versiculo de Eclesiastés: "Acuérdate de tu Creador en los dias de tu juventud, antes que vengan los dias malos de los cuales digas: No tengo en ellos contento;" (12,1).14 Como séria de prever, el empleo figuradvo que hace la Biblia del mar, la nave y el marinero aparece igualmente en textos talmûdicos y midrâshicos. El ideario rabinico maneja el simil piloto-nave dando a sus respecuvos términos diversas acepciones: la nave se interpréta como el pueblo y el piloto como uno de los patriarcas, Mosés o Noé ( Ve-yot ha-Berakbah Kabbah (= R) 11.3 [Deut. K, 17374]) o Abraham: "R. Hanan b. Raba dijo mâs en nombre del Rab: el dia que pasô de este mundo nuestro padre Abraham, los jefes de todas las naciones del mundo se pusieron en fila y dijeron: "Ay del mundo que ha perdido su lider y de la nave que ha perdido su piloto" (Baba Batra 91b). Los jefes a su vez se comparan con el màstil de un barco (Vayyishlach R 83.1 [Gen. R., 766]). Al traducir la nave por el cuerpo humano el léxico rabinico coincide con el de la filosofia griega (Va-YakhelR. 48.1 [Exod. K, 546)]; Vaethchanan R. 2.24 [Deut. R., 51-52]; y Avodah Zarah 10b). Apenas hace falta mencionar el senorio sobre el cuerpo que se atribuye al aima, ya que es notorio (Vajyikra R 4.4 [Lev. R , 53]); todos los ôrganos sirven al aima imperecedera (Eccles. R. 7.17.1.1 [Eccles. R , 200], Vajyikra K 4.8 [Lev. R , 57-58]). El mar encrespado sacude y zarandea la embarcation, dejando aterrados a los marineros (Shemini R. 12.1 [Lev. R,155]). Los vientos y la borrasca obedecen a la voluntad divina (Baba Batra 73a y Hagigah 12b) y son mandados como casdgo contra los malos (Hagigah 13b y Ahare Moth R 22.3 [Lev. R., 279]; el mismo relato en Eccles. R 8.4]). El Midrash describe el peligro de muerte que entrana el navegar como algo parecido a vivir en una casa derruida, o hacer un viaje en solitario, ya que las très circunstancias llevan consigo la muerte segura (Eccles. K 3.2 [Eccles. R , 75]).15 El naufragio como prueba del héroe ÇYevamot 121a) y el

14

15

Citado en Sbabbat 151b, contexto inmediato a Sbabbat 152a que cita Almosnino en el capitulo nueve del libro primero. Lo que no séria de prever en todo esto, dado el carácter preferentemente filosôfico de sus escritos, es el perfecto silencio que Almosnino guarda por lo que respecta a los diferentes matices fisicos o metafïsicos que han dado al tôpico los glosadores. Tambien extrana que cayese en el olvido por una vez la Providentia divina, cuya presencia, action y efecto se trasparentan en la casi totalidad de los textos biblicos y rabinicos que evocan metâforas marítimas, y de manera especial la de la nave arrebatada por una tempestad. Tal vez ello obedece a la virtud tratada, la Prudencia. Pero en lo concerniente al divorcio la Mishna presume que los pasajeros a bordo de un barco arrebatado por el mar están vivos excepto si se ha perdido el barco en el mar (Orden Tercero, Mujeres, capitulo 3, Documente de divorcio): "Très cosas dijo R. Elazar ben Parta [Perata] ante los sabios y éstos confirmaron sus palabras. En lo concerniente (a las personas que habitan) una ciudad cercada por un ejéreito, (y a las personas que se encuentran) en un barco que ha sido arrebatado por el mar, y a un hombre que ha de ser juzagado, ha de presumirse que están con vida. Pero si la ciudad ha sido conquistada por las tropas, si el barco se perdiô en el mar, si es uno que ha de ser matado, se les ha de aplicar la norma más severa de los vivos y de los muertos. Una israelita casada con un sacerdote y la hija de un sacerdote no pueden comer de la ofrenda" (del Valle, 571).

nàufrago pagano rescatado que se convierte en benefactor del pueblo judio son también mouvos conocidos (Eccles. Κ 11.1 [Eccles. R., 284]). Las literaturas clàsicas y modernas incluyen numerosos dtulos que se sirven de un escenario maridmo en el que se situa la agonia del héroe. Odiseo, náufrago en su vuelta a casa, sobrevive y triunfa. No termina igualmente bien el viaje maritimo del rey Ceix contado por Ovidio en Las metamorfosis. Desoidas las suplicas de su esposa Alcione, embarca para Asia y en medio del mar le sobreviene una fuerte tempestad; se desfonda el bajel en el que viaja y Ceix perece ahogado.16 En el pasaje ovidiano se basan el coloquio satirico de Erasmo Nattjragium17 y el grotesco episodio de Rabelais sobre la tempestad (libro IV, capitulos 1821). Otros ejemplos del disdnto tratamiento ideolôgico y estético que recibe el modvo de la nave sacudida por las olas los proporcionan: La reina de las hadas de Spenser,18 Otelo de Shakespeare (2° acto),19 y el vocabulario maritimo de Ausias March;20 dejamos a un lado las imágenes renacendstas y el tema de la nave del estado a la que saluda Horacio en las Odas (1, 14). Si bien se desmarcan en varios aspectos, estas versiones coinciden en propiciar una reflexion sobre la dimension érica del libre albedrio del hombre frente a la Fortuna o la predesdnaciôn, y en atribuir al mar el predicado del dia a dia humano, el flujo caracterisdco, el cambio constante del individuo sorteando la muerte que le acecha. Présentes en la mente del lector, esos textos biblicos, rabinicos y clàsicos dan a esta breve parâbola unas connotaciones sobreentendidas de crucial importancia. Saadya Gaon, a dtulo de jusdficaciôn de su mencionado libro, caracteriza las circunstancias de su tiempo con términos parecidos a los del ejemplo de Almosnino: "Vi a los hombres hundidos, por asi decirlo, en un mar de dudas, sumergidos en las aguas de la confusion; sin buzo que les sacara de las profundidades ni nadador que les socorriese" (mi traducciôn, [1946: 29]). Al afianzar el propôsito de su tratado, Almosnino observa: "Solo te kize hazer saber kuanto deves vedar de las kozas kete paresen no ser nada al présente i despues se sige delyyas tanto mal ke no se puede evitar" (RK33b).

Bibliografia Moshe Almosnino. 1564. Hanhagat ha-hayyim. Rtgimiento de la vida. Tratado de los sueiios. Salonika: Y o s e f Y a a b e (5324). , 1582. Me'ames Koah. C o n s t a n t i n o p l e : Y o s e f Y a a b e (5342). R e p r i n t 1969. F a r n b o r o u g h : G r e g g ; 1 9 8 0 - 8 5 . Tel Aviv: H a - M a k h o n l e - H e k e r Y a h a d u t Saloniki; 1992.

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17 18

" 20

Las metamorfosis L.X1 (410-582) (1964: 681-88). Relato éste que requiere un estudio mâs detenido en sus sugerentes paralelos con la parabola almosnina. Además del episodio mencionado, Sipahigil senala el papel importante, tal vez modélico a efectos del hiperbôle, que ha tenido en la literatura occidental la description de la tempestad dada en Tristia, Libro 1, 2a parte (1993: 468). The Colloquies (1965: 139-46); véase Coleman (1969). Véase el interestante estudio del mar y de la nave spenserianos elaborado por Williams (197071). Véase Sipahigil (1993). Estudiados por Leveroni (1951) y Rolph (1971).

Aristoteles. On The Soul. Parva Natura/ia. On Breath. T r a d . W . S. H e t t . C a m b r i d g e , Mass.: H a r v a r d University Press; L o n d o n : William H e i n e m a n n , 1957. The Babylonian Talmud. 1935—48. T r a d . I. E p s t e i n . 2 5 vols. L o n d o n : T h e S o n c i n o Press. Bar Ilan University. Judaic Libraiy Bible-Talmud-Commentaries & Halachic Responsa. V e r s i o n 5 [ C D Rom], C o l e m a n , D . 1969. "Rabelais: T w o V e r s i o n s o f the ' S t o r m at Sea' E p i s o d e . " Trench Studies 23, 1 1 3 - 3 0 . C u r a u s , E . R. [1948] 1953. Eurvpean Literature and the Latin Middle Ages. T r a d . W . R. T r a s k . Bollingen Series, 36. P r i n c e t o n , N J : P r i n c e t o n U n i v . Press. L a u s b e r g , H . [1963] 1983. Elementos de retárica literaria. T r a d . M . Marin C a s e r o . Madrid: Credos. L e v e r o n i , R. 1951. " L e s imatges m a r i n e s en la poesia d ' A u s i e s M a r c h . " Bulletin of Hispanic Studies 28, 1 5 2 - 6 6 .

The Midrash Rabbab. 1983, 3' ed. E d . R. D r . F r e e m a n a n d M. S i m o n . 10 vols. L o n d o n : T h e S o n c i n o Press. LaMisna. 1981. T r a d . C. del Valle. Madrid: E d i t o r a N a c i o n a l , 1981.

Oxford Companion to the Bible. Ed. B. M. Metzger y M. D. Coogan. Oxford: Oxford Univ. Press, 1993. P u b l i o O v i d i o N a s ô n . 1964. Arte de amarj Las metamorfosis. T r a d . J. M. G a r c i a d e la M o r a . Barcelona: Vergara. R o l p h , W . L. 1971. " C o n f l i c t a n d C h o i c e : T h e S e a - S t o r m in t h e P o e m s o f Ausías

March." Hispanic Review 39, 69-75. Saadya G a o n . 1946. The Book of Doctrines and Beliefs. T r a d . A. A l t m a n n . O x f o r d : E a s t a n d W e s t Library. Saperstein, M. 1989.Jewish Preaching. 1200-1800. N e w H a v e n , C o n n : Yale Univ. Press. Sipahigil, T . 1993. " O v i d a n d t h e t e m p e s t in O t h e l l o . " Shakespeare Quarterly 44, 4 6 8 - 7 1 . T h o m p s o n , C. R., trad. 1965. "The Colloquies" of Erasmus. Chicago: Univ. o f C h i c a g o Press. Tracy, T h . 1982. " T h e S o u l / B o a t m a n Analogy in A r i s t o d e ' s De anima." Classical Philology 77, 9 7 - 1 1 2 . Williams, K . 1 9 7 0 - 7 1 . " S p e n s e r : S o m e Uses o f the Sea a n d t h e S t o r m - t o s s e d S h i p . " Research Opportunities in Renaissance Drama 13—14, 135—142.