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