Jews and Arabs- The Cultural Heritage

Though encounters between Jews and Arabs date back to pre-Islamic times, and inter-cultural relations between the two date back to those early days, it was only in the Middle Ages that the encounter between Jews and Moslem Arabs took place, which was to produce the most interesting, fruitful and durable results. In Spain, where they had lived for centuries, the lot of the Jews had been an unhappy one; the Christian Visigoth kings were harsh and merciless. When the Moslems came to the Iberian Peninsula early in the eighth century, they brought the Jews of Spain not only relief from their oppressors but in the words of Isodore Epstein "also encouraged among them a culture which in riches and depth is comparable to the best produced by any people at any time."

The majority of the Jewish people at that time lived under Arab rule, and it was at this point that began the long and brilliant period of Arab-Jewish symbiosis a period which can be said to have been the most flourishing in Jewish history, and whose significance for the Jews and for Judaism to this day cannot be exaggerated.

During the four centuries in which they ruled Spain, the cultural, artistic and commercial activities of the Arab invaders made that country the most enlightened in Europe. Historians speak with awe about Cordova, the capital of the Umayyad caliphate, which became a magnificent seat of culture, with its lakes and parks, glittering palaces and mosques.

The court attracted and patronized poets and philosophers, men of letters and scientists. The Jews responded wholeheartedly, eagerly contributing their talents and drawing inspiration to revive their own language and culture. Thus the flickering light of Jewish culture in the east was rekindled in the west and when the great centre of Babylon finally crumbled, Jewish cultural hegemony passed on to the Jews of Moslem Spain, to be maintained and nurtured there for half a millennium.

Eliyahu Ashtor, author of the three-volume history, "The Jews of Moslem Spain," notes that in the 11th century, scholars who were steeped in Jewish lore and familiar with all areas of Jewish literature lived in every community on the Iberian Peninsula.

Works produced by Jewish writers, Ashtor states, demonstrate to what a large degree Jewish intellectuals were rooted in Arabic culture. "The profound influence of Arabic literature is conspicuous in the ennobled type of Jew found in many of their works, who is both loyal to the heritage of his forebears and permeated with the general culture."

In other fields, the degree of interaction and mutual influence was even greater. "Within the area of the exact sciences," Ashtor writes, "the contact between Jewish and Arabic scholars developed into collaboration." Treatises by Jewish scholars on the natural sciences all derived from the classical works of the Arabs.

Another example of interaction is that of the study of Hebrew grammar, in which Jewish intellectuals in Moslem Spain showed great interest. The Jews discussed questions of Hebrew grammar and philological interpretations of biblical verses and any innovations brought forth by an Arab philologist prompted them to do the same for their own language.

Jewish intellectuals interested in questions of philosophy and who devoted themselves to philosophical meditation also abounded in the communities of 11th century Spain. Ashtor again: "They too followed in the footsteps of the Arabs poring over books available to Arab philosophers and discussing the problems that engaged them."

However, according to Ashtor, the influences of Arab culture on the intellectual life of the Jews in Moslem Spain expressed itself primarily in the development of Hebrew poetry, whose level "mounted ever higher from one generation to another until it scaled the very heights of artistic creativity." As it was for the Arabs, so too did poetry become, for the Jews, the most beautiful means of expression in all things relating to etiquette and personal sentiments. "Apart from their aesthetic and sentimental value, the poems composed by the Jews ... demonstrated that Hebrew was no less eminent than other languages and that it could also be employed to express the sentiments and desires of the people of that era."

In "Jewish History: An Essay in the Philosophy of History," Simon Dubnow depicts this period in glowing terms: "The five centuries starting with the rise of Arabic-Jewish civilization in Spain and ending with the banishment of the Jews, ended the monotony, isolation and exclusiveness formerly prevailing in Jewish national life, both in its external and internal relations." For the first time, he explained, a considerable portion of the Jewish people enjoyed the possibility of thinking. "The 11th and 12th centuries marked the meridian of the intellectual development of mediaeval Judaism. The amalgamation on Spanish soil of Jewish culture with Arabic culture, bore rich intellectual results, more lasting and fruitful than the union of Jewish and Hellenic cultures in Alexandria."

Nor did this symbiosis carry with it the danger of assimilation. Although the Jews of Spain adopted the language of the Moslem conqueror and with it, inevitably, many of his patterns of thought and ideas, nevertheless, as Erwin Rosenthal points out, "despite all assimilation to Moslem ways of thought, the Jews under Islam maintained, even enriched, their distinctive character as Jews with a vigour and determination hitherto unknown."

In this unprecedentedly congenial environment the Jews of Moslem Spain like the Babylonian Jews before them were able to embark on a great enterprise, namely to define and describe Judaism with a clarity and force previously unknown in the entire history of the Jewish people.

The durable nature of the Jewish-Moslem encounter in Spain, North Africa, Egypt, and the lands of the Arab east has been attested to by many scholars and orientalists. Professor Hava Lazarus-Yafe of the Hebrew University, Jerusalem, has made the point that the encounter between Jews and Moslems was not quite unique in Jewish history. She was, of course, referring mainly to the long and fruitful encounter between Jewry and the civilization and culture of the west, in central and eastern Europe in the 19th century and in the USA in our own day.

However, in the concluding remarks to a 1972 lecture, Lazarus-Yafe asserted: "Judeo-Arabic culture should not be approached as though it comprised only Jewish works written in Arabic; these should be viewed as the fruit of an integral Jewish-Islamic culture produced by Jews who lived in the shade of Islam, spoke Arabic, and were influenced deeply not merely by this or that field of Islamic culture such as Islamic philosophy but by Islam as a faith, with all that the term connotes in its broadest sense."

One final point is worth stressing here. The symbiosis, collaboration and interaction of which Dubnow, Rosenthal and Ashtor speak, were by no means confined to intellectual and literary pursuits. Furthermore, Ashtor states, "During that period, the Jews in the Spanish states believed that they had a share in Spains destiny. They did not regard themselves as wayfarers or aliens and therefore took part in all the conflicts and intrigues among the rulers and the various factions. In the 11th century, the Jewish community of Cordova was one of the most important in Andalusia. The Jews were deeply and actively involved in the affairs of the city, as were their brethren in the other cities of Moslem Spain."

Although no Jewish literary or philosophical works in Arabic written prior to the ninth century have been preserved, it is likely that Jews spoke Arabic as far back as the seventh century, that is as soon as they came under Islamic rule following the Arab conquests. By the tenth and 11th centuries, Arabic had become the language of Jewish writers throughout the Moslem empire, extending from Spain to Iraq and the Arabian Peninsula.

This readiness on the part of the Jews to adopt Arabic as the language of their prose has led many modern scholars to wonder how it came about that Hebrew and Aramaic were so rapidly superseded by Arabic, even in works dealing with the most sacred matters of Judaism why, for example, Maimonides wrote most of his theological works in Arabic: Sefer Ha-Mitzvot ("The Book of Prescriptions"), Hakdamot la-Mishnah ("Introductions to the Mishnah"), Shemonah Perakim ("Eight Chapters"), among others. Joshua Blau, the author of a study of Judeo-Arabic, arrived at the conclusion that, beside the authors desire to reach the widest possible audience, there were two factors at work the inadequacy of Hebrew as a vehicle for religio-philosophical and other scientific writings, and the fact that Arabic was considered by the Jews to be their natural language.

What sort of language was Judeo-Arabic and where did it originate? There are no conclusive data as to the origins of Judeo-Arabic literature. According to Zunz and Steinschneider, two eminent students of Judeo-Arabic culture, the literature originated in Babylonia, spread to Eretz-Israel and Syria, and eventually encompassed the other countries of the Arab empire Egypt, North Africa and Spain. Blau devotes the first chapter of his book, "The Emergence and Linguistic Background of Judeo-Arabic," to the origins and characteristics of "Middle Arabic," which, he maintains, is the linguistic result of the great Arab conquests of the seventh century. Middle Arabic, he suggests constitutes the missing link between classical and modern Arabic dialects.

The truth, however, is that written modern Arabic is hardly distinguishable from written Middle Arabic in any significant sense, while both still attest to a remarkable continuity with classical Arabic. This continuity is, of course, attributable almost solely to the enduring influence of the Koran. It is worth noting that such continuity is not encountered in any other language with the significant exception of Hebrew, which has also been preserved virtually intact thanks to it being the language of the Jewish scriptures.

This point has considerable bearing on the nature and style of Judeo-Arabic. While, originally, the Jewish-Arabic authors aimed at writing in classical Arabic, "it was deficiency in mastering classical Arabic that gave rise to a Judeo-Arabic literature teeming with Middle Arabic elements," according to Blau. He contends that there are three characteristics which entitle us to speak of a separate Judeo-Arabic language, clearly distinct from all other forms of Middle Arabic. These are:

1. The Jewish flavour of the topics dealt with;

2. The almost universal presence of Hebrew elements;

3. The employment of the Hebrew script.

In addition, there are indications that the writers of Judeo-Arabic themselves felt that they were writing in a separate language. Blau suggests that, although it probably originated in the writers inability to master classical Arabic and its complex grammar, in the course of time Judeo-Arabic came to be thought of as a literary language in its own right, "employed even by authors who were themselves competent to some degree in classical Arabic. Thus, we come to the conclusion that "the writings in (Judeo-Arabic) of Jewish authors addressing a Jewish audience must be accorded the status of a language."

It is difficult to establish precisely when Arabic became the language of the majority of the Jewish people then living in the various lands of the Moslem Arab empire. According to Goitein, the process was completed by the year 1000, but this did not, however, affect the status of Hebrew as a second and literary language. As a matter of fact, the most remarkable aspect of the Jews adoption of Arabic and their integration into the local Arabic culture was that the almost universal use of Arabic not only did not affect the position of Hebrew adversely, but actually served to revive and enrich it, and to a considerable extent, to make it what it is today. The Jewish-Arab symbiosis in its linguistic aspect led to an unprecedented revival of the Hebrew language in all branches of language study.

The implications of the acquisition by Jews of Arabic as the language of their writings in almost all fields of intellectual and literary activity were far-reaching and its impact was lasting. In adopting Arabic at a time when the Arabs had already developed a national literature and a comprehensive religious terminology, it was inevitable that the Jews should acquire, together with the language, Arab ways of thinking and Arabic literary forms, and even Moslem religious notions.

Prior to their encounter with Moslem-Arab culture, the Jews had inexplicably failed to develop a system of Hebrew grammar and lexicography, even when conditions for such a creative effort seemed ideal such as in the time of the Mishnah, when the nucleus of the Jewish people was still firmly rooted in its native soil. "Why," Goitein asks, "did the Jews wait for the Arabs to give them the impetus to study their own language?"

A large part of the explanation lies in the fact of the encounter with the Arabs itself. That encounter, with a people whose devotion to their language was proverbial, "directed the Jewish mind to a field of activity for which, as it was subsequently proved, it was particularly gifted, and which bore its mature first fruits to the benefit of the national language of the Jewish people itself," as Goitein points out. In his book, "Judaism and Islam," Rosenthal asserts that, "without the existence of a well-developed science of the Arabic language which largely arose in connection with the exegesis of the Koran, Hebrew linguistics could hardly have been cultivated." In terminology and arrangement, in the treatment of problems, and in the solution of difficulties, he points out, "the Jews were dependent on Arab grammarians."

It is generally assumed that this revival of the Hebrew language started with the translation of the Bible into Arabic. According to Goitein, "the study of the Jewish Bible also led to the study of its language in general. Writing in Arabic and using Arabic methods and terminology, Jewish scholars assiduously explored and described the Hebrew of the Bible and soon also that of the Mishnah or post-biblical Hebrew. For the first time, Hebrew pronunciation, grammar and vocabulary were scientifically treated and, so to speak, brought under control. Thus Hebrew became a disciplined and well-organized means of expression under the influence of Arabic."

There is no doubt that this revival of Hebrew under the influence of Arabic was related to the obvious affinity between the two languages. As Goitein points out, it was then a commonplace, among both Jewish and Arab scholars, that Arabic, Hebrew and Aramaic were basically one and the same language. Maimonides believed unqualifiedly that Arabic "is certainly Hebrew somewhat corrupted," as he wrote in a letter to his translator, Samuel ibn Tibbon. Elsewhere he asserts that for anyone who knows both languages, Hebrew and Arabic "are undoubtedly one language, while Aramaic is somewhat akin to them." Judah Halevi, in "The Book of Kuzari," also speaks of Hebrew, Arabic and Aramaic as related and suggests that Abrahams mother tongue was Aramaic, adding however that Abraham knew Hebrew as a sacred language.

It was perhaps in the field of translation that Hebrew most visibly benefited the most through its symbiotic encounter with Arabic. In his translation of ibn Pakudas "Duties of the Heart," Judah ibn Tibbon writes at length on the subject of Arabic and Hebrew in general, and on the problems of translating Arabic works into Hebrew in particular. Explaining why scholars in Babylonia and in the lands of Islam wrote in Arabic, he adds: "They did it because it was the language people understood, and also because it is an adequate and rich language for every subject and for every need, for every speaker and every author; its expression is direct, lucid and capable of saying just what is wanted much better than can be done in Hebrew, of which we possess only what has been preserved in scripture and which is insufficient for the needs of a speaker. It is simply impossible to express the thoughts of our hearts succinctly and adequately in Hebrew, as we can in Arabic which is adequate, elegant and available to those who know it."

Some modern scholars reject the thesis that the inadequacy of Hebrew was the reason why Jewish writers and philosophers in the Middle Ages preferred Arabic. They point out that Hebrew could, and actually did, do the work of Arabic when the necessity arose e.g. when Arabic works were translated into Hebrew either contemporaneously or shortly after their authors death. Nevertheless, it is obvious that the extensive work of translation from Arabic into Hebrew during the Golden Age of Judeo-Arabic culture contributed greatly towards the creation of modern Hebrew.

An idea of the intellectual fertility which characterized the period of Arab-Jewish cultural interaction during the Middle Ages and its lasting significance for Jewish thought may be gleaned from the fact that in the mid-1960s, the Israeli daily Yediot Aharonot offered its readers what it called "The Treasury of Jewish Thought." This anthology included six major works of Jewish philosophy, all written between the years 1050 and 1428 in Spain, and all but one in Arabic. Although it may be somewhat exaggerated to present these works as the ultimate treasury of Jewish thought, they remain the most representative body of philosophical and speculative work from a period justly considered the most fruitful and creative in Jewrys long history. The "Treasury" included works by Solomon ibn Gabirol, Bahya ibn Pakuda, Judah Halevi, Maimonides and Joseph Albo.

A few words are in place here about the transfer of the centre of Jewish learning from Iraq to Moslem-Arab Spain. The story is told that during the reign of the Umayyad Caliph Abdel Rahman III in Cordova (912-961), a vessel from the east was seized by the caliphs admiral. The ship, which was headed for Spain, carried among others, a Babylonian Jewish family of three Moses ibn Enoch, his wife and their young son. Fearing dishonour, the mother threw herself into the sea, while the boy and his father were taken captive and brought to Cordova, where they were ransomed by the citys influential Jewish community.

Moses ibn Enoch was one of the most learned teachers at the famous Babylonian Academy of Sura, who had been sent on a fund-raising mission to Jewish centres in Spain and North Africa. He came to Spain at an opportune moment; the western caliphs were eager to see their Jewish subjects become independent of the hegemony of eastern Jewish learning and to stop sending funds to the lands of their arch-enemies, the eastern caliphates. Accordingly, with the help of Hasdai ibn Shaprut, a Jew who was the caliphs trusted adviser, Moses ibn Enoch was installed as the head of the talmudic school in Cordova. With his appointment, and the help of Nunash ben Labrat another Baylonian scholar Jewish literature and philosophy entered a new era lasting almost five centuries. During this period, Spanish-Jewish philosophers, men of letters and grammarians produced such a rich and variegated body of writing that it came to be known as the "Golden Age" of Jewish literature.* It is, thus, no coincidence that all the works included in "The Treasury of Jewish Thought" should have been written during this period.

An impression will be given here of the scope and character of these writers, so as to indicate the extent of the mutual influences which were at work in the creation of the Judeo-Arabic culture of the Middle Ages.

In chronological order, ibn Gabirols two works come first among the great works of Jewish philosophy produced in Moslem Spain. Mekor Hayyim ("The Source of Life") or (Fons Vitae in its Latin version) was written during the first half of the 11th century in Arabic; but, unlike subsequent works by Spanish-Jewish philosophers and men of letters of the period, it was not translated into Hebrew. The current Hebrew text is a translation from a Latin translation rendered in the 12th century at the request of Raymond, Archbishop of Toledo, who was not aware that its author was a Jew, since by this time the author of Mekor Hayyim was regarded sometimes as a Moslem, sometimes as a Christian, and the Christian scholars of the 13th century made him their own and studied his work diligently. It was only in the middle of the 19th century, that Fons Vitae (whose authors name had been corrupted into Avencebrol or Avincebron) was discovered to be the work of none other than the famous Jewish poet, Solomon ibn Gabirol.

This strange circumstance is indicative of a very significant phenomenon, and will also help us understand why Fons Vitae, and ibn Gabirols philosophy in general, were so neglected by the Jews of his day. It is clear that a work which made it possible for its author to be regarded as a Moslem or even a Christian, could not have contained many indications of a Jewish background or outlook. The fact is that Mekor Hayyim does not contain a single biblical verse or talmudic saying, and its author does not anywhere in the work try to reconcile his philosophical views with his religious faith as Maimonides, for one, was to do later. The truth seems to be that ibn Gabirol took his religious convictions so much for granted that he did not see any necessity of reconciling them with philosophy.

Although very little is known about the life of Bahya ibn Pakuda, it is fairly certain that his masterpiece, Hovot Halevavot ("Obligations of the Heart"), was written some time between 1100 and 1150. Like Mekor Hayyim it was written in Arabic. Research has established that many passages in the book are practically identical in content and expression to similar ideas found in the works of the great Moslem philosopher and mystic, Abu Hamid Muhammed al-Ghazzali (1058-1111).

The books thesis is based on a distinction made by Moslem theologians between ceremony or observance known as "visible wisdom" and "duties of the limbs" on the one hand, and inward intention, attitude and feeling known as "hidden wisdom" and "obligations or duties of the heart" on the other. ibn Pakuda explains that, while people are very interested in finding out and studying the precepts pertaining to bodily actions the "visible wisdom" and how they should be observed, they seldom inquire into the manner in which the second category of precepts those pertaining to the "hidden wisdom" or the duties of the heart ought to be carried out. What, he asks, are the precepts of this second division, affecting our thoughts and feelings?

It is to such problems that Bahya devotes his treatise, and the crowning merit of the work is that these questions are dealt with in an orderly and precise manner, so that each thought stands out with the utmost definition and clarity; and the reader obtains such a clear scale by which to judge his own virtue, or lack of it, that it is almost impossible to study it without making at least some spiritual progress.

With Judah Halevis Sefer Hakuzari ("Book of the Kuzari") we approach a new and novel phase in Jewish religious writing. A poet first and foremost, Halevi makes no secret of his disdain for philosophers, maintaining that Greek wisdom "has no fruits, but only flowers." His book, a classic defence of Judaism, is in the form of a dialogue between the King of the Khazars, ready to relinquish paganism, and the Jewish teacher whom he summons upon discovering that both Christians and Moslems base their appeal ultimately upon the Jewish scriptures.

Halevis was not the kind of intellect whose curiosity was unsatisfied until matters were proved in logical terms. For him, reason, good enough in mathematics and physics, was not adequate in matters relating to the truths of Judaism and the nature of God. God and the Jewish people are not simply facts to be known and understood; they are living entities to be known, to be devoted to, to be loved. This knowledge is not open to everyone; it is open only to those who by birth and tradition belong to the family of the Prophets, who have a personal knowledge of God, and who belong to the Land of Israel where God was revealed.

Despite the fact that Halevi speaks with the voice of a proud Jewish nationalist, his anti-philosophical attitude has much in common with that of al-Ghazzali, from whom there is no doubt that he drew his inspiration. In both Halevi and al-Ghazzali we find, on the one hand, open scepticism in respect of the powers of human reason and, on the other, a deep and personally-experienced religious sense. But there is one significant difference: Halevi defended a persecuted race and a despised faith not merely against the philosophers but also against the more powerful professors of other religions.

The work of Joseph Albo, author of Sefer Haikkarim ("The Book of Roots"), is little more than a review of the problems which occupied his predecessors, especially Maimonides, from whose writings he benefited greatly. It must be added, however, that philosophy as such was not Albos forte, nor was it his main interest. It was religion, as such, that he investigated. His work, completed in 1428, distinguishes between fundamental dogmas (roots) without which Judaism is unthinkable; derivative beliefs (secondary roots) which follow from fundamental dogmas, and a denial of which involves a denial of that in which they are rooted; and, lastly, beliefs which, though obligatory upon the Jews, are merely subsidiary (branches).

It is interesting, and rather revealing, that among these "branches," Albo includes a belief in the Messiah, claiming that it is not central in Judaism. This weakening of emphasis upon the Messianic doctrine a weakening of which we find no trace in the work of Maimonides was a concession to Christianity, a concession, it will be noted, the like of which no Jewish thinker under Islam felt called upon to make or contemplate.

Beginning with the first decades of the ninth century, the bulk of the literary output produced by Jews in the Moslem Arab empire was written in Arabic. But there was one significant exception. Their poetry was generally composed in Hebrew. As Goitein put it, "the most perfect expression of Jewish-Arab symbiosis is not found in the Arabic literature of the Jews, but in the Hebrew poetry created in Moslem countries, particularly in Spain." This applies especially to religious poetry, which Goitein calls "our most precious heritage from Hebrew-Arab Spain."

The reasons why, unlike prose, Jewish verse was written in Hebrew are difficult to establish. Abraham Halkin maintains that the tradition established by liturgy, beginning with the initiators in Eretz-Israel who never thought of introducing a foreign language into the divine services, undoubtedly played its part in convincing later poets to continue in Hebrew, even for their secular compositions. There is, however, another reason which Halkin considers more immediate. "Poetry among the Arabs," he writes, "served the purpose of displaying the beauties of their language, and they strove to emulate one another in elegance of style and extravagance of metaphor. The finest example of elegance of style was believed by them... to exist in the Koran. At this, the Jews balked. Their pride in their own language and in their own Bible not only restrained them from displaying the beauties of Arabic and its masterwork (the Koran) but also impelled them to do for Hebrew as their neighbours did for their tongue."

As an illustration of this sentiment, Halkin cites the case of Judah al-Harizi and his motives for writing his famous work, Tahkemoni. In his introduction to this work, al-Harizi writes: When I read the work of al-Hariri (an Arab poet from Basra, Iraq) the heavens of my joy were rolled together and the rivulets of my mourning flowed, because every nation is concerned for its speech and avoids sinning against its tongue, whereas our tongue, which was a delight to every eye, is considered a brother of Cain... Therefore, I compiled this book in order to display the force of the sacred tongue to the holy people."

Whether or not al-Harizis case is typical of the other Judeo-Arab poets of his time, the influence of Arabic language and literature on mediaeval Hebrew poetry remains decisive. True, one can read and respond to the work of such poets as Shmuel Hanagid, Solomon ibn Gabirol, Moses ibn Ezra and Judah Halevi without knowing the Arabic language; but it is precisely because Arabic influences on these poets and their work is so subtle, and their absorption in Arab-Moslem culture so complete, that these influences appear all the more significant and vital.

But there were apparent as well as subtle influences. Of the former, the most significant was the introduction into Hebrew poetry of non-religious themes. Jewish literature and thought before the age of Islam were, almost without exception, an uninterrupted flow of sacred writings and their poetic interpretation. There was no place for the profane and secular. Contact with the culture of Arabic Islam changed all this. In the words of Professor Halkin: "It is a testimony to the profound influence of environment that beginning with the tenth century, Hebrew poetry and literary prose of a non-religious character underwent an intense development. And it is a further testimony to environment that this new phenomenon caused no surprise or criticism."

The reasons for this literary transformation are not hard to find. Life under Islam, especially in Spain, made new demands on the poets. Many Jews became enamoured of worldly pleasures; they learned to appreciate the charm of music, the grace of the dance. They participated in drinking bouts, they conversed about women, they joined in literary discussions. They were stimulated by Moslem poets, by their themes, and by their literary forms. "All of these experiences," Halkin writes, "encouraged the development of a secular poetry. It did not replace religious poetry, but grew alongside it."

It is not within the scope of this survey to dwell upon the various themes and motives borrowed by the Hebrew poets of Spain from their Arab-Moslem neighbours. It is noteworthy, however, that the same themes which run through the Arabic models though not all of them were taken over by the Hebrew poets.

It is also highly instructive, though by no means surprising, to learn that the leading work dealing with the theory of Hebrew poetry, a book by Moses ibn Ezra, was written in Arabic and not in the language with which it deals. An interesting reflection on the widely different outlooks on poetry and its functions respectively held by Jews under Islam and Jews in Christian lands, is the fact, noted by Goitein, that while other Judeo-Arabic books dealing with theoretical subjects the Hebrew language, philosophy, and even astronomy and mathematics were eagerly sought after by the Jews living in Christian Europe and translated into Hebrew for their benefit, no Hebrew translation of ibn Ezras Ars Poetica is known from the Middle Ages. "What is clear from this example," Goitein comments, "is that Hebrew poetry in Spain was a product of Arab-Moslem civilization."

The theological and philosophical work of Moshe Ben Maimon, (Moses Maimonides or the Rambam), the greatest Hebrew mediaeval philosopher, is universally acknowledged as representing the crowning achievement of the great epoch of Jewish-Arab symbiosis in the Middle Ages. After his death, religious philosophical thinking in general, and Jewish philosophy in particular, were reduced to something in the nature of a commentary on his work. His monumental work Moreh Nevukhim ("The Guide for the Perplexed") practically closed the circle of philosophical speculations and reflection. The problems posed by Maimonides in this work were taken up again and again by his successors, who like him, sought to establish the unity of religion and philosophy, though not always along the same lines. This process, which continued for three centuries, was entirely dominated by Maimonides and his work. According to Professor Julius Guttmann, Maimonides work "not only laid the foundation for subsequent philosophic inquiries, but actually influenced them by its continued vitality and immediate relevance."

Maimonides influence extended beyond Judaism. The founders of Christian Aristotelianism, Albertus Magnus and St. Thomas Aquinas, found that he had shown the way to a system of theistic Aristotelianism, and traces of his influence upon Christian philosophy can be followed right into the first centuries of the modern era.

A point about Maimonides work which requires particular attention is the extent to which it actually influenced Moslem-Arab thought. According to Goitein, " The Guide for the Perplexed is a great monument of Jewish-Arab symbiosis, not merely because it is written in Arabic by an original Jewish thinker and was studied by Arabs, but because it developed and conveyed to large sections of the Jewish people, ideas which had so long occupied the Arab mind." On the other hand, it has been pointed out that, since their Arabic was written in Hebrew characters, the works of the great Jewish writers of Arab Spain could not have been studied by Moslem Arabs; that Maimonides was hardly known among the Arabs; and that, in fact, there was no real intellectual dialogue between the Jews and the Arabs of those days.

Various explanations have been advanced as to why the great Jewish writers of Moslem Spain chose to write in Arabic for example, in order to reach the masses, or because they found it easier to express themselves in Arabic than in Hebrew, or simply because as Abraham Halkin asserts "in view of the extensive adjustment of the Jews under Islam, and the degree to which they identified themselves with its culture, nothing was more natural than that they should use in the writings the language which served their every other need." But the question of why they wrote Arabic in Hebrew characters has been fairly definitely settled, at least with regard to Maimonides "The Guide for the Perplexed." The generally accepted explanation is that Maimonides wanted his book to be read only by Jews, as he feared that his attacks on certain Moslem groups would cause him trouble.

This device did not work, however, because the great demand for the book on the part of non-Jews led to it being copied in Arabic script. Other evidence cited to prove that the "Guide" was widely known among Moslem scholars includes the following: Rashid abu el-Kheir, an Egyptian scholar, reproduced passages from the work in his book Tiriaq al-Qulub ("Opium of the Heart"); Yosef Caspi, in his Kovetz Igrot Harambam ("A Collection of Maimonides Epistles"), asserts that Moslem religious savants in the Maghreb used to gather to listen to Jewish scholars reading chapters from Maimonides work; Abu Bakr Muhammed
al-Tabrizi, a 13th-century Moslem scholar, wrote a lengthy commentary on certain chapters of the "Guide." In addition, al-Maqrizi, the Arab historian, mentions Maimonides and the "Guide" in his Kitab al-Khitat.

Finally, on the subject of Maimonides place in the Islamic cultural heritage, one may quote Dr. Mustafa Abdel Raziq, late professor of Islamic philosophy at the Egyptian University, who wrote the introduction to Yisrael Ben-Zeevs book on Maimonides. The prominent Egyptian scholar and Islamist writes: "Abu Omran Musa ibn Naimun (Maimonides) is especially worthy of study because he was the greatest Jewish philosopher of those days... In fact, I consider him and his colleagues to be philosophers of Islam. Abu Omran Musa ibn Maimun is one of the philosophers of Islam, because all those who, in the domain of Islam, engaged in that kind of theoretical study have long since been called philosophers of Islam, whether Moslems or non-Moslems."