The other day I was asked about Bernard Lewis, the noted historian of the Middle East. Lewis is a meticulous scholar, insightful essayist and consummate stylist. Nevertheless he is often berated, perhaps because the late Edward Said was critical of him—essentially for not being an Arab.

The specific question I was asked concerned a purported prediction Lewis is said to have made about a possible Iranian attack. Lewis supposedly suggested in the Wall Street Journal that the Iranians might choose August 22, 2006, for a major attack. Actually this date was suggested by Iranian President Ahmadinejad for his response to US demands for a halt in nuclear activities. Lewis suggested that a possible response was an attack on Israel. I do not think Lewis actually predicted that Iran would necessarily chose that day for an attack on Israel, which in any case never materialized.

Here is what he said, according to Internet sources (e.g., in the Wikipedia article on Bernard Lewis):

What is the significance of Aug. 22? This year, Aug. 22 corresponds, in the Islamic calendar, to the 27th day of the month of Rajab of the year 1427. This, by tradition, is the night when many Muslims commemorate the night flight of the prophet Muhammad on the winged horse Buraq, first to "the farthest mosque," usually identified with Jerusalem, and then to heaven and back^{[Quran 17:1]}. This might well be deemed an appropriate date for the apocalyptic ending of Israel and if necessary of the world. It is far from certain that Mr. Ahmadinejad plans any such cataclysmic events precisely for Aug. 22. But it would be wise to bear the possibility in mind.

The main point of Lewis’ discussion was not predicting that the Iranian response to the US would be an attack on Israel, but to remind readers that the Iranian leadership is highly ideological, and therefore cannot be assumed to use the same kind of rationale we in the West might--for example, they might not be deterred by mutual assured destruction (as presumably the Soviets were; there are reports that during the Cuban missile crisis both Kruschev and Kennedy were worried that Castro also was too ideological, and thus not deterred by rational considerations).

Lewis also was convinced that Iran had been developing a nuclear bomb at least since the time of the first Iraq campaign.

Whether or not Iranians are susceptible at all to considerations of mutual destruction or economic devastation from sanctions, or other economic, military or political calculations, there should be no doubt that the supreme leadership is highly ideological. In other words, Lewis may or may not be right when he suggests the leadership is completely impervious to such considerations, but he is absolutely correct that their ideology is highly resistant to them. They frequently remind us, for example, that the West values life while they value death and martyrdom, and have the depth of commitment to their values that the West is perceived to lack. They may or may not attack, but we ignore their ideology at our own peril.

As  for August 22, Lewis was off the mark on specifics.  It is the final day of the Persian month Mordad (which is Solar, not based on the Islamic calendar), and may just have represented the last day of the month. Most calculated Islamic calendars show that this day was the 28^th day of Rajab, not the 27^th day. 27 Rajab is indeed the day of Isra and Mi'raj throughout the Islamic world. celebrated in Iran, although as far as I can tell it is more frequently considered to be Laylat al-Mab’ath “ the day of mission” i.e., the day Muhammad was called to divine service. (Most Sunnis would probably suggest the Prophet Muhammad's mission began with the Night of Power, when the revelation of the Qur'an began when the angel Gabriel met him at the cave of Hira, usually associated with the 27th of Ramadan). This is an interesting case in which both Sunnis and Shias mark the same date but give it different names and connotations.

Finally, while I also think that Ahmadinejad and the religious leadership might well consider timing a nuclear attack to a religious holiday, and that Lewis was right to remind readers that that might be their response to international pressure, I also do not think that the historical record suggests they are overly committed to choosing dates with religious significance for military actions.

Bernard Lewis is one of the most influential writers about the Middle East and a careful scholar. He is also outspoken and has a political position. I do not think even he himself considered August 22 2006 as particularly likely for attack. What he was talking about is that we take a big risk if we assume that the rationale of the Iranian leadership is similar to that of the leadership of most Western democracies. This remains a big risk to the United States, to Israel, to Arab states, and for that matter to the entire world.

Seth Ward

This image may be easier to open than the one in the previous posting.

Four years ago, I gave a talk about Muslims and Jews, and the ramifications of their voting patterns for Democrats and Republicans. I spoke at what was, I believe, the ill-fated but valuable entity already called CCCE (and once called Community Education). And I continue to include charting trends in these communities in my professional purview.

I did not really have any reason to cover the Mormon vote in 2008.

George W. Bush had courted the Muslim vote, and in 2000 and 2004, the Muslim community took this into account (as they did, especially after the attack on the World Trade Center and the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan, US policies towards the Islamic world). In 2008, the Muslim vote  for the Democratic party reflected reactions to George W. Bush's invasion of Iraq, and recognition of Obama’s personal history—Obama spent time growing up in Indonesia, the largest Muslim-majority country, and his grandfather was a Muslim, for at least part of his life. It’s noteworthy that the latter fact was more important than considering the candidate’s grandfather, father or indeed himself as an apostate—and I do not think many American voters who are Muslims hold the misguided notion that Obama is himself Muslim, despite the startling percentage of Americans (in some surveys, over 10%) who treat this claim seriously.

I am writing this in part because my attention was drawn to one of the most important and fundamental surveys of religion and voting, the report of the Pew Memorial Trust. Although the way the Pew survey was done, there was little likelihood they would get sufficient data to make projections about Muslim, Jewish and Mormon voters, and they focused on the changing role of religion in the US electorate, but mostly white, African-American, and Hispanics who identify as Christians of various types, or as "nones"--persons with no religious affiliation. But, it is certainly possible to look into the Muslim, Jewish and Mormon communities and discuss the trends and their significance.

It’s not clear how important these votes will be, but it is noteworthy that while Muslims and Jews are a small portion of the electorate, they are reasonably well represented in enough “swing states” that they could easily claim significance in winning the election. Muslims are certainly a large enough percentage of voters to make an electoral difference in the swing state of Virginia. Other swing states such as Florida, Colorado and Ohio have enough Muslims that their vote could be said to make a difference if they tended towards one party or another and the results were close. Mormons are probably enough of a force in Nevada, possibly in Colorado. The Jewish vote could be decisive in Florida and Nevada, and probably in Ohio and Colorado.

Pew’s charting of ethnic/racial distinctions are clearly important, as are the “religiosity” items such attendance at religious services and other practices.  Indeed, these kinds of things show up as important distinctions in many studies of Jewish and Muslim communities.

I have not seen much material about Muslim choices in the current race, although some are nervous about Romney’s strong language regarding Iran, Libya, Israel and elsewhere in the Middle East. I need to track this more carefully.

Jewish Republicans are far more vocal than ever before, although it is hard to determine if the percentage is highly distinct from the usual 25%. Jews who attend the synagogue multiple times per week (not per month!) tend to track more highly for Romney—generally this correlates with certain segments of the Orthodox and especially Ultra-Orthodox communities. The AJC (American Jewish Committee) did a survey on Sept. 27 that projected 65% for Obama and 24% for Romney. Undecideds were asked for their preferences as of the date—and apparently most were able to say they were leaning one way or another; rounding these numbers and adding them in it’s about 71% for Obama and 27% for Romney. (Disclosure: I made up these last numbers: the report I saw did not do this addition).

The most striking differential is that Orthodox Jews, usually considered about 10% of the overall Jewish population (in this sample the percentage was 8.3%, favored Romney over Obama 54% to 40%, while the other categories are pretty close to the overall average. The gender gap is present among Jewish respondents 69/19% women vs. 61/29% men. The survey asked whether respondents approved of the way Obama is handling various issues; the most striking approval rates to me were to the question about whether he was handling the abortion issue well. Clearly National Security, Israel and Iran are important issues for these voters. In some cases, the level of support or approval for Obama differed from the overall level of his support.

Muslims largely supported Clinton, but also George Bush and George W Bush. They voted for Obama in large numbers in 2008. This time around, there appears to be disappointment with Obama: at home, there is still profiling and some of the provisions of the PATRIOT act that the Muslim community dislikes were renewed; overseas, many are dissatisfied by the nature of US involvement in Muslim countries, drone attacks, and so forth. I do not think there is a great amount of sympathy for Romney, though, so it is not surprising to me that the necessity to vote emerges more than support of (or opposition to) one or the other candidate–in my very unscientific survey of website statements about this issue. 

Mormons typically support the Republican party, and this year support for Romney, a Mormon, exceeds the level of Mormon support for the ticket in 2008.

Is there any significance to this all?

In terms of who is elected—the Mormon, Jewish and Muslim voting blocks could be influential in a few states, such as Virginia, Florida, Ohio,  Colorado and Nevada. Given the closeness of the election, any of these states could be viewed as the deciding state.

Many perceive a widening gulf between Republicans and Democrats in general in the United States, and this is mirrored in the gulf between the politics of Orthodox and non-Orthodox Jews. Orthodox Jews tend also to be more conservative on a number of social issues. Israel and various other foreign policy issues remain of broad interest to the Jewish electorate; although Republican policies towards Israel seem in my humble opinion to reflect the kinds of approaches more closely associated with Christian Zionism and Neoconservatives (and Jewish neo-cons are not primarily Orthodox), these approaches resonate well in the Orthodox Jewish community. It should be noted that Jewish republicans are by no means overwhelmingly Orthodox—the percentage of the Orthodox community supporting the Republicans is much higher than it is among Conservative, Reform, and other affiliated or non-affiliated Jews, but the Orthodox form a small percentage of the overall community.

Looking over several surveys, it seems that the greatest issue in the Muslim community today is getting out the vote. Many Muslims find both major parties to have problematic and attractive aspects when compared to their opponents, and American Muslims do not seem to have the history of supporting the one or the other party, as is typical of Jews and Mormons.

Mormons typically support Republican candidates, and have a substantial infrastructure to support voting. It seems to me that Mormons mobilizing the vote could have a substantial impact in Nevada, and a smaller yet not insignificant impact in Colorado.

To the extent that I can determine from reviewing surveys and reportage, Jews still support the Democratic Party much more often than the Republican Party. But, Jews appear to resemble the general American community more and more in terms of how religiosity and similar considerations affect their voting preferences; a detailed statistical analysis might show that, when allowances are made for some of these concerns, Jewish demography—largely urban, less religious etc.—is such that when held constant for some of these considerations, Jewish voting preferences are even less distinct from the general electorate. Even on Israel, Jews may appear to interpret candidates’ positions in such a way that they match their party loyalties.

Any change in the Mormon voting orientation is less likely to come to the fore in the current election. And Muslims appear to be investing energy in getting more involved in the political process.

Seth Ward

I wrote the bulk of this shortly after Prothero’s blogpost 

http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2012/09/13/my-take-a-deadly-link-between-islamic-and-anti-islamic-extremists/ appeared back in September. A student sent me a query about it and I responded. This essay was more or less complete at that time. There was some minor editing today.

Thank you for sending out this link to Stephen Prothero’s Belief Blog.

In this posting, Prothero decries “blind certainty,” a quality he says is shared by both those in Libya who killed the US Ambassador and the producers of the film “Innocence of Islam.” And he asserts that what we make of the attacks and riots depends on our point of view and frame of reference.

The attack in Libya was apparently organized and executed by trained individuals, and is part of a well-articulated set of principles. Perhaps the comparison acquires additional layers of meaning, and represents itself a false “blind certainty” that the situation ultimately for points of view that reflect “blind certainty” about “the other”–is understood in terms of belief.

I cannot imagine understanding the killings in Libya and the riots in Cairo, Yemen and elsewhere outside the religious framework—a value system in which insulting or denigrating Muhammad is totally unacceptable. But there is more than that. Not all examples of denigration of the Prophet are treated equally, and leadership plays a role in determining which ones draw the most attention and when.

There is rampant unemployment, illiteracy, poverty, and failure of government, especially governments viewed (rightly or wrongly) as secular and funded by the United States. Many political leaders (not only in the Arab world!) have been able to use tyranny and ideology to keep the people in line, choosing persecution and totalitarianism to mask lack of educational and economic progress. The “blind certainty” behind the killing of the ambassador in Libya and other such actions, is backed up by a comprehensive infrastructure, which is not merely religious but also political and tactical. Indeed the “religious” component is intrinsic to the approach, but ultimately, the religious orientation may most likely reflect the success of movements which appear to be religious such as Al-Qaeda, the Iranian Revolution, Hizbullah and Hamas in responding to oppression (even if they have not been particularly successful in actually changing the people’s material or educational situation). 

I am loathe to make generalizations as broad as this one: many of today’s Arab and Islamic-majority societies have levels of toleration and public support for points of view that reflect “blind certainty” about hate and denying national rights for “the other” that are unimaginable in the contemporary USA, whether the other is the USA or Israel or Christians or for that matter Kurds or Africans. But not so long ago, Americans were far less likely than today to decry views we now consider to be hateful and wrong regarding discrimination by race, gender, sexual orientation discrimination, and (in the anti-communist years) political orientation.

As for the “blind certainty” of the anti-Islamists: the film itself that was said to spark the riots, and its circulation in the Islamic world, seem to have been the work of just a few individuals, prominently Coptic Americans. Their opposition to Islam has to reflect decades of persecution of Egyptian Copts, and anger at their situation in the “new” post-2011 Islamic world, in which their situation is viewed as more precarious due to the ascendancy of religious parties-- the Muslim Brotherhood and the Salafis-- perhaps even more so as some believed it held out the possibility for increased safety and even integration (some Copts participated notably in the Tahrir Square movement that led to Mubarak’s resignation).  Moreover, the ideology of the trailer is supported by an infrastructure that has wide visibility in America, and is readily downloadable: many websites refer to the interpretations of Muhammad’s life seen in the trailer.  They indeed have a blind certainty about Islam, although it seems to me that a highly developed ideological, political and tactical infrastructure has not yet emerged. 

Prothero is right about “blind certainty” rather than reasoned argument, and about self-centeredness and point of view.  But the size and viciousness of the anti-American riots and the prevalence of the rhetoric of hatred especially in official circles, is not matched in American anti-Islamic rhetoric (even if some might argue that police and security profiling of Muslims far exceeds anything done in practice to Americans in Arab or Muslim countries). Nevertheless, the ideology behind Muslim-bashing in the US is readily available, screaming to us from the web.  While it is necessary to remember that “we” are hardly without guilt, simply asserting the equivalence of US Muslim –bashing and hate speech and violence against America, Israel, Jews and Christians is much too simplistic.

Thoughts on the parasha: Noah as a Tzaddik

A popular theme for Divrei Torah on Parashat Noach is the question of interpreting the reference to Noah as “righteous in his generations.” Most often, this topic turns on comparisons of Abraham and Noah on items such as hospitality, or teaching; occasionally on the evils of their generation, or on close reading of various textual items.

My first question is just what is meant by dorotav “his generations” with Noah, Abraham’s generation, and the question of whether this is at all relevant—or why.  Although I will endeavor to present one. I am not sure that the comparison of the surrounding populace will be productive. As for the comparison of various tzadikkim: the discussion in classic commentators and modern derashot (viewed on the web) yields much rich guidance, but I am not sure that is what the language of Torah suggests. While parshanut makes it clear that there is much value is considering whether Noah would have been “the righteous man of his generation” had he lived in Abraham’s time, or in contrasting Noah and Abraham, analysis of the use of tzadik and tamim suggests a different direction.

“Generations of Noah and Abraham”

Scripture reports that Noah lived 950 years; he was born after the deaths of Adam and Seth—the first of his line who could not to have met these men, according to what is recounted in Genesis. His death came 350 years after the flood, a decade after the date of the Dispersion following the Tower of Babel, according to the usual Jewish reconstruction of these dates (ArtScroll has a handy chart by the way, towards the end of Parashat Noah).

Abraham’s generation perhaps was a lot better defined:  His life-span as given in the Torah was much shorter; traditional Jewish chronology has him born just about fifty years before the Dispersion. His “generations” included the leaders who built the Tower of Babel, and the people of Sodom and Gomorrah who were destroyed.  There is something unfair in the comparison with the generation of Abraham’s youth: If indeed all the world was united in Babylonia, according to the Torah’s narrative this option was no longer open, as God had promised never to destroy all of humanity again. So Sodom could be destroyed, but not Babylon. 

Abraham was asked by God to leave his homeland—but Scripture depicts him has having already begun the process, leaving Ur with his father, possibly in the dispersion after the fall of the Tower of Babel, participating in this process you might say. Also, Abraham is depicted as working with the King of Sodom and the other towns, although he rejects their proposal that he take a large share of the booty, depriving his allies and the people of Sodom of their share. Thus he is depicted as engaging with them; in contrast, Scripture does not depict Noah as engaging with his neighbors at all.

The Midrash kicks in with Abraham as a teacher (ve-et hanefesh asher asah be-Haran is said to refer to the students and followers attracted to his teaching) and a host. Noah in contrast is depicted as responding to taunts regarding the huge boat he was building, and not having any success whatsoever.

Usage of tzadik and tamim in the Noah and Abraham narratives.

Let’s look at the way these terms are used in Genesis.

a.       Tzadik and salvation.

ט  אֵלֶּה, תּוֹלְדֹת נֹחַ--נֹחַ אִישׁ צַדִּיק תָּמִים הָיָה, בְּדֹרֹתָיו:  אֶת-הָאֱ-לֹהִים, הִתְהַלֶּךְ-נֹחַ.

א  וַיֹּאמֶר ה' לְנֹחַ,  .  .  .  כִּי-אֹתְךָ רָאִיתִי צַדִּיק לְפָנַי, בַּדּוֹר הַזֶּה.

Note the parallelism here.  Both forms of the Divine name; both texts have tzaddik and a reference to dor “generation.”

Noah is seen—by God—as a tzaddik, indeed the tzaddik of the generation. And so, God saves him from destruction. The term is used again in Genesis in a similar way. In Ch. 18, in two verses, Abraham puts it this way: can the fate of the tzaddik and the rasha “evil” be the same? Are they to be destroyed as one?

כג  וַיִּגַּשׁ אַבְרָהָם, וַיֹּאמַר:  הַאַף תִּסְפֶּה, צַדִּיק עִם-רָשָׁע.

כה  חָלִלָה לְּךָ מֵעֲשֹׂת כַּדָּבָר הַזֶּה, לְהָמִית צַדִּיק עִם-רָשָׁע, וְהָיָה כַצַּדִּיק, כָּרָשָׁע

Here, the argument against destroying the city is that there are tzaddikim there.  IN case you did not get the point—the tzaddik cannot be destroyed together with the rasha, consider Abimelekh’s response when he is confronted with the possibility of his entire house being destroyed:

אֲדֹ-נָי, הֲגוֹי גַּם-צַדִּיק תַּהֲרֹג.

b.      Noah is a tazdik (and Tamim, and someone who walks with God) but Abraham has to become one.

Noah is described as Tzaddik Tamim. But Abraham has to act—to earn, as it were, his righteousness—

וַיַּחְשְׁבֶהָ לּוֹ צְדָקָה.

and for that matter, God has to tell him to be tamim, and to walk with him, unlike Noah, who was already tamim and walking with God when we first met him!  But Noah has already pioneered the notion of a covenant between Man and God, so Abraham is offered a covenant together with the request to be wholehearted and walk before God; Noah had to build the Arak and survive the flood.

17:1 וַיֵּרָא ה' אֶל-אַבְרָם, וַיֹּאמֶר אֵלָיו אֲנִי-אֵ־ל שַׁדַּי--הִתְהַלֵּךְ לְפָנַי וֶהְיֵה תָמִים.

ב  וְאֶתְּנָה בְרִיתִי, בֵּינִי וּבֵינֶךָ; וְאַרְבֶּה אוֹתְךָ, בִּמְאֹד מְאֹד.

Noah as a model and foreshadowing

Clearly Abraham is to be considered in contrast with Noah in various ways, regarding righteousness, wholeheartedness, walking with God—and being taken out of evil situations. Noah is also something of a model for Moses; God gives Noah and his descendants laws after he leaves the Ark, being saved from the violence, perversity and evil of his generation—and gives Moses and Israel laws after they were saved from the violence and servitude of Egypt. We may also want to consider Noah a model to be contrasted with Lot, who is saved from Sodom and its violence. Abraham argues with God about whether any tzaddikim are in the town—although Lot is not called a tzaddik. Moreover, unlike Noah, who succeeds in bringing along his wife and his sons’ wives, Only Lot and his daughters escape. Afterwards, Noah plants a vineyard and his son “sees his nakedness ”—and Lot is made to drink wine and his daughters also may be said to uncover his nakedness—in the Torah’s usual words for incest.

So how are we to understand this?

1.       Noah was the most righteous man of his generation.  Only he and his family are saved; unlike the righteous in Sodom who, had they existed, might have saved even the evil, and like Avimelekh and his entire household. Although the covenant concluded afterwards says the entire world will never be destroyed again, Noah’s story is an argument for avoiding violence, anarchy, and perversion—and a promise that in the end, righteousness will win out.

2.       The righteousness, or the generations, can be compared, but it seems to me that Noah’s righteousness should not be contrasted with Abraham’s just on the basis of quantity or overall greatness. Instead, the issues of Noah’s righteousness and wholeheartedness, his covenant and his Law lay out key themes in the Torah.

3.       Noah’s story shows that the themes of being a tzaddik and being tamim apply to the whole world. Noah is saved from anarchy and violence; I’m not sure how to understand the story of Noah’s vineyard, but let’s say it is to indicate that ultimately, he is not completely saved from the sexual perversion of his age. Abraham is saved from idolatry and highly centralized government. Yoram Hazony’s new book, the Philosophy of Hebrew Scripture , makes much of the difference between Noah as farmer and Abraham as shepherd—but it also makes much of the differing responses to the evils of anarchy, and the tyranny of government, and this too plays a role in contrasting the narratives.

Noah’s legacy does not exactly lead to Abraham: Abraham chosen to receive blessings of property and progeny—and to be a model for the entire world (“all the people of the world will be blessed through you”).  Abraham insists on righteousness in his dealing with Sodom (booty in the four kings and five kings story), even when arguing with God. Abraham has to absorb the best of Noah’s qualities. 

Shabbat shalom.

Very Brief Review of The Philosophy of Hebrew Scripture, by Yoram Hazony.

Earlier I posted a review of Hazony’s treatment of the political philosophy of the Bible. Here is a very brief overview of the book, based on a review I recently submitted for publication.

Yoram Hazony argues that Western academic tradition misguidedly sees Hebrew Bible as “revelation of secrets” or, following Christian notions of Scripture, as “witness (testamentum),” rather than studying it as ultimately a carefully argued work of “reason”—that is, of Philosophy. For Hazony, Scripture is a complex philosophical system, that, like much Greek philosophy, is in literary form and has religious references. As organized in Jewish tradition, the centerpiece is The History of Israel (Genesis through Kings), presenting basic discussions of ethics, political philosophy, epistemology and metaphysics, with conclusions sometimes more advanced than the Greeks regarding such topics as limited government reflecting the people’s desires and what is eternally true.  Parallel collections of Prophetic orations and Writings follow with additional perspectives on these issues. Mosaic Law is has to be discussed (as Hazony notes, he is an orthodox Jew) and it is: Hazony makes it clear that Scripture enjoins observance. But—in contrast to Christian teachings about the necessity of Faith—at the same time Scripture “criticize[s]…perfect trust in God” (24-25), and shows how we must demand what is right and true from leaders and even from God. Hazony argues Hebrew Bible is a complex, multi-authored work of Reason about the purpose of the world and its history, and how Israel should live in the light of that history. Moreover, Scripture asserts that ultimately, the Philosophy it sets forth is necessary to understand the history and task of all mankind.

Hazony has made it clear that he views this as promoting an ongoing discussion about how to view the Bible and its role as a work of Philosophy. Certainly, many departments of Philosophy are dismissive of this literature as having any claim to explain the world as it really is. The work, like Maimonides’ Guide of the Perplexed,  may be most accessible to those who are both Orthodox Jews and Philosophers, but will have the impact its author hoped for if Hebrew Bible is understood more widely by academics as a fundamental work of the Philosophical tradition.

Seth Ward

 By: Dr. Seth Ward, Program in Religious Studies, University of Wyoming

 What do we mean by the term "Sephardim"?

Spanish Jews are called Sephardim; the singular is "Sephardi." The Hebrew "sephardi" or "sepharadi" refers either to a single Spanish Jew, or is used as an adjective meaning pertaining to the Sephardim. For example, Moses Maimonides (1135-1204) called himself Moses... the Sephardi. "Sephardic" is used in English as an adjective, not a noun: someone may be Sephardic, but the people should be called "Sephardim" rather than "Sephardics;"

Up to the fifteenth century, "Sephardi" was used primarily to refer to the Jewish community in the Iberian peninsula itself, or to someone who was born there. Thus Maimonides called himself "the Sephardi," but his son Abraham, born in Egypt, did not. This changed in the fifteenth and especially sixteenth centuries, primarily as a result of the expulsion of the Jews from the Iberian Peninsula.

How did the Biblical term Sepharad come to mean "Spain?"

The place-name "Sepharad" is mentioned in the Bible only in the book of Obadiah, where the prophet refers to the Jerusalemite exiles in Sepharad. There is no scholarly concensus as to the geographical location to which this passage originally referred. Some scholars have suggested locations in Mesopotamia, Sardis in Asia Minor, or Sparta in Greece. From late Roman times, some Jews assumed that Sepharad referred to Spain. In any case, this was but one instance of the transference of biblical terms such as Sepharad, Tzarefat and Ashkenaz from their original Middle-Eastern referents to European locales. By the Middle Ages, Sepharad was the normal term used by Jews to refer to Spain.

A Brief History of Jewish Life in Spain

According to Sephardic tradition, the first Jews to arrive in Spain were the exiles from Jerusalem to whom Obadiah referred, who came in the sixth pre-Christian century. Many scholars assume Jews settled in Spain in Roman times, but we have little information about Jewish life in Spain until the time of the Visigothic Spanish kingdom, which outlawed Judaism at the end of the seventh century after the kings had become Catholics. Spain was conquered by the Muslims in 711. In the tenth and eleventh centuries, Spanish Judaism flourished under the Muslims, producing poets, scholars, and courtiers of the first order. After the Christian Reconquista gained Toledo in 1085, when the Almoravids came to rule the Islamic side of the frontier, Jewish cultural achievements in Muslim Spain began to decline, disappearing under the Almohades in the mid-twelfth century. But Christian Spain meanwhile developed its remarkable convivencia in which Jews (and Muslims) were involved in cultural, intellectual, financial and even political life all over Christian Spain. By the mid-thirteenth century, the Christians controlled all of the Peninsula except for a small area from Granada to the Mediterranean. In many of the independent Spanish kingdoms, the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries still saw striking religious, cultural and literary achievements among the Jews, but Jews also faced increasing religious pressures and occasionally were forced to participate in religious "disputations" with Christians.

Anti-Jewish riots broke out in several cities in 1391. The fifteenth century was marked by continuing hardships and religious pressure, leading many Jews to convert or to leave Spain. In January, 1492, the Muslims were driven out of their last stronghold, Granada, completing the Reconquista. In March, 1492, King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella decreed the expulsion of the Jews from Spain. Many Jews converted or left the Iberian peninsula; other Jews went to Portugal, where Judaism could still be practiced freely. But Portugal expelled its Jews in 1497, and the tiny kingdom of Navarre followed suit in 1498. Judaism could be practiced openly nowhere in the Peninsula.

The exact number of Jews who left Spain and Portugal at the end of the fifteenth century is debated by scholars, but may be estimated at several hundred thousand, significant enough to enable Sephardim to establish their own congregations in such places as Morocco, Italy, Egypt, the Ottoman Empire, the Land of Israel, and elsewhere. Eventually, Sephardic communities were established in Amsterdam, London and the New World as well. In many places the Sephardim, with their energy, resources, training and vitality, quickly took a leading role in local Jewish cultural and religious life.

"Sephardim" after 1492 

Today, Jews descended from the communities where Spanish Jews settled are called Sephardim. Indeed, the term "Sephardic Jews" is often used by extension to refer to all Jews who are not part of the Ashkenazi (Central and Eastern-European) culture-world. Although some Jews of Spanish heritage resent this loose usage, it reflects the success of Sephardic religious traditions, language and customs in many of the places in which the exiles settled. The "Sephardic Rite" is sometimes used to refer not to the prayer ritual of the Sephardim but of Rabbi Isaac Luria (d. 1573), an Ashkenazi (!) who combined elements of both Sephardic and Ashkenazic ritual. This prayerbook was adopted by the Hasidim in Eastern Europe and is probably the most common one in use in Israel today. 

Who are the Conversos?

Many Spanish Jews converted to Catholicism in the late fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, especially in the aftermath of the Edict of Expulsion in 1492. These "conversos," often called "New Christians," included many who became devout, believing Catholics, or at any rate educated their children to be. Others, however, preserved Jewish practices and did their utmost to retain some sort of Jewish identity. Most knew little or nothing about the Jewish religion and beliefs of their ancestors; some may have developed an interest in Judaism only after threatened by or actually charged by the Inquisition. Scholars debate the percentage of New Christians who were loyal to Judaism; some believe it was very low. Nevertheless, a steady stream of conversos and their descendants returned to the open practice of Judaism throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and even afterward; often their communities were called "Spanish-Portuguese." Conversos or their descendants who were believed to continue Jewish practices or to hold Jewish beliefs were called "Marranos," a derogatory term meaning "swine."

What do we mean by the term Crypto-Judaism?

"Crypto-Judaism" is used to describe the broad range of secret practices and beliefs of those secretly maintaining some tie to Judaism but forced to uphold another religion in public. Although the term is almost always used with respect to Sephardic conversos, it could be said to apply to the secret Judaism practiced under Islam under the Almohades in the 12th century, in Mashhad, Iran, in the 19th-20th centuries, and possibly to the Turkish Dönme. Due to its secretive nature, a sense of community was possible only in fairly remote areas; even so, there was a constant fear that a practice might "give them away" to the authorities, or even that a family member might turn them in.

"Crypto-Judaism" is used to refer to a wide range of phenomena. In some cases, families are reported to have transmitted explicit statements such as "We are Jews" through the generations. In other cases, no one knew the reason for practices passed down as family traditions.

What about Crypto-Judaism in the New World?

Some of those who settled in Spain's American colonies were conversos or descendants of conversos. When Spain established the Inquisition in her New-World colonies, inquisitors soon found much evidence of "Judaizing." Whether from loyalty to Judaism or fear of the Inquisition (which confiscated property first and conducted hearings only afterwards), many New Christians found their ways to remote areas. Research documentation is particularly strong about New Christian settlement in what later became northern New Mexico and southern Colorado. Inquisition records clearly indicate, however, that throughout the Spanish empire, the Holy Office located individuals who expressed loyalty to the "Law of Moses" rather than to Christianity, and suffered the consequences.

At the end of the seventeenth century, the Inquisition for the most part lost interest in prosecuting crypto-Jews, ironically leading to a dramatic reduction in the preservation of Judaic practices. Many crypto-Judaic families lost much of their identity and assimilated into the Catholic mainstream. Others, however, appear to have maintained some Jewish customs, and even a consciousness of their ancestral faith. Today, some of the descendants of New Christians are discovering their Jewish or converso heritage. At least in some villages, traditional converso crypto-Judaic practices have survived up to the present.

Not all manifestations of Judaism in these areas should be assumed to preserve converso practices brought over from Spain. There may well have been other contacts with Jews, and, curiously, several communities sometimes thought to be converso descendants who returned to Judaism may reflect instead the workings of a Judeophilic Protestant missionary church.

At the end of the twentieth century, many converso descendants from this area find themselves no longer in the village but in the city. They have come into contact with Jews, but also have lost some of their contact with family and village traditions. Paradoxically, as these traditions have begun to fade, those who have inherited them are in a better position to relate to them openly. This process has not only been going on in the American Southwest, but in Portugal itself, where the converso community of Belmonte openly returned to Judaism, undergoing a formal conversion ceremony.                      

Seth Ward

Another paper found online from the archives or from my backlog.

“I am a Jew:” An Oral History profile of Michael Atlas-Acuña

Seth Ward

University of Wyoming^[1]

Since the 1980s, many individuals of Hispanic heritage in the Southwestern part of the United States have come forward with claims of being “crypto-Jews”^[2]—using various terms such as Marranos, Anusim, and Sepharadim—or simply, “Jews” or “Israel”—and combinations of these.^[3] Generally, they claim that their families preserved some aspect of Jewish identity–usually unknowingly. Often they have done some genealogical work, although often this has included finding Jewish or Converso individuals with family names similar or identical to names that have been identified in their families. Strikingly, many of their reports include references to a positive view of Jews or interest in Judaism generated by a sense that Judaism is part of their own heritage. Indeed, much of the discussion and controversy about “Crypto-Judaism” in the contemporary southwestern U.S. refers to precisely these three issues: (1) Genealogy, (2) The Canon of Evidence, and (3) Identity. Only a few years ago, there seems to have been a great degree of reticence and indeed uneasiness about discussing these issues in public forums; in recent years more individuals have spoken out freely.

TO READ THE FULL PAPER GO TO http://www.uwyo.edu/sward/acuna%20profile%20and%20interview.htm