R.Yehudah ha Levi and the fight against box-ticking.

R. Yehudah ha Levi is widely regarded as the medieval thinker who most clearly encapsulates the religious spirit of the Jewish people. In his travels and wanderings he composed songs, poems and liturgical prayers as well as his magnificent work on Jewish philosophy and thought, the Kuzari. What stands out about the Kuzari in particular is its emphasis on the importance of Mitzvoth and actions, the particular importance of the Jewish people, divine revelation as the axis around which all else revolves and the land of Israel. 

When I first read it in translation a couple of years ago I was struck by how readable it was in terms of structure and subject matter, and its lack of apologetic tone or excessive emphasis on medieval philosophic speculation gives it an enduring relevance to the contemporary reader. Although I have never formally studied his writings beyond this casual perusal, I have decided to devote a number of posts to R. Yehudah ha Levi and the Kuzari due to my interest in him as a character and the important and interesting themes his writings raise.

 Born in Toledo in central Spain in 1075, R.Yehudah ha-Levi was educated in Lucena, Southern Spain, becoming acquainted with various branches of Jewish learning at the school of Rabbi Isaac Alfasi and forming close relationships with some of the Rif's outstanding pupils such as R' Joseph ibn Migash. He chose medicine as his profession but showed a particular fondness for poetry early on and became familiar with the world of Graeco-Arabic philosophy. His talents as a poet earned him the admiration of his senior, Moses ibn Ezra. He married in Toledo and appears to have had one daughter.

It is particularly striking how prominent a place the land of Israel plays in the life of R.Yehudah ha-Levi. His life is marked by a strong desire to return there as the focal point for a Jew's relationship with God. This yearning, expressed in poetry and synagogue liturgy, finally found full fruition  in his decision to move there after the death of his wife. I saw a particularly nice quote that he wished to "do away with the contradiction of daily confessing a longing and of never attempting to realise it" - Oh Had I eagle's wings, I'd fly to thee. And with my falling tears, make moist thine earth.

His journey was turbulent, however, and it is unclear if he ever arrived at his destination. In Egypt, he had to struggle against the protesters and pleadings of friends to remain there to persevere on the route trodden by his ancestors in the desert. It is reported that he was greeted in Tyre and Damascus by local communities. After this, however, the chronological record ends, although the story is told that upon coming to Jerusalem and seeing the holy city he sang his beautiful elegy Zion ha-lo Tish'ali whereupon he was ridden down and killed by an Arab horseman who had dashed forth from a gate.

His life's works are marked by their yearning for God and to be near to Him, as well as an uncommon religious passion and fervour. In a sense they are windows into the religious personality. For me, there is one particular fascinating and recurring theme in his works that I think is worth commenting on, namely, the very striking contrast between living for an ideal and paying lip service to it.  

In a striking passage of Moreh Nevuchim that I recently studied, the Rambam describes how for most people, faith is just something they talk about as a social norm, a bit like associating with a particular football club. Real Emunah leaves an imprint of G-d on the soul like the a recollection of a true friend, representing a reality that is truly alive. Similarly, in the Kuzari, the Rabbi confesses his shame that despite the land of Israel playing such a prominent role in the relationship between G-d and His people, very few actively tried to return. 
There comes a point in life where sometimes you stare into the abyss that separates what you say you want from life and what you actually want from it. Throughout all his writings, Yehudah ha Levi vividly portrays the restless torment he feels at trying to cross this divide and epitomises a startlingly profound quest for authenticity.

Whilst I mentioned this when I discussed the post-Yeshiva resignation, even in the unlikely scenario where the similarities will be noticed, the point needs reiterating. For many, the world of ideals finishes in their early twenties. 'Discoveries', 'quests' and 'journeys' end in a comfortable box or social category which is easily defined and slots us into a particular system and that is that. Endurance and consistency are usually the limits of idealism after that. 

Reading the writings of R. Yehudah ha Levi is an exposure to a single-handed critique of this monotony. Restlessness, turbulence and ultimately the glorious soaring of the religious soul come to the fore in sometimes breathtaking style. I am struck by how  tirelessly he strives for religious meaning in all areas of life, in the personal, national and universal sense. It also affirms for me the importance of developing the individual within religious society and the value of the endless quest. Yes, not everyone has the passionate soul of arguably Jewish history's greatest poet but there is a great deal to be learned from the very spirit of his writing, as well as the idea of the inherent worth of every Jew and the importance of their contribution to the world.

The very idea of his perseverance to reach the land of Israel against all odds is an excellent example of being real with religious ideals. It reminds me of something that struck me when doing research last year on the phenomenon of Shabbatai Tzvi's mass following in the 1660s. It wasn't only surprising that people followed a false messiah, it was also that they followed a messiah at all. The memoirs of Gluckl of Hameln poignantly express the feelings of the ordinary Jews who sincerely dreamt of the arrival of the Moshiach and genuinely anticipated his arrival any day. 

This heartfelt yearning which seems to come from the roots of the Jewish consciousness and historical memory, I feel ashamed to say, seems like such an elusive concept in the post-Modern world. R. Yehudah ha Levi asks of us whether the Jewish people still long for their creator, for a return to the land of Israel, for that mind-set whereby spiritual and religious ideals are something more than things that we write down to further our chances in, shall we say, other areas in life? These are all powerful questions that reading the Kuzari raised for me and I will endeavour to start looking at different themes in the upcoming weeks. 
For those who remember, my post with some of the medieval poems in them has been delayed and I will hope to get round to it soon.

The obligatory Dylan:

Disillusioned words like bullets bark
As human gods aim for their mark
Make everything from toy guns that spark
To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
It’s easy to see without looking too far
That not much is really sacred

Do we need to sacrifice individuality for the 'greater good'? The Kevin Pieterson Scandal as a case study.

As odd is this seems, I have always been a big Pieterson fan. Great to watch, capable of playing the brilliant innings, and surprisingly orthodox in technique, I have never held him in the contemptuous regard that I save for specialist 20/20 batsmen. The controversy which has erupted upon the release of his book this week has struck a particular chord with me because of the nature of the debate. Peculiarly, I agree wholeheartedly with both sides. It resonates particularly as I see this particular dynamic being played out in so many other scenarios in life and it seems to support my attitude that most life lessons can be learned from Test cricket.

So let's set the scene: 

On one end of the crease we have KP. He sees himself as the victim of a bullying and dictatorial regime run by the bullish Andy Flower and supported by the laddish ringleaders like Prior and Swann. Immensely talented, clearly sensitive and possessing a genuine desire to win personal and national honours, he is hurting badly. For him, all he required from the English Test team was a framework to express himself, and release the individual spirit capable of turning games around in a session or two. He wants friendship and acceptance because that is how he will thrive. This is not him being purely selfish or egotistical as everyone likes to accuse him of being. He feels that if everyone was given this opportunity they too would flourish and succeed.

 Authority, discipline and intensive regimes are anathema to him, not because they are evil but because they are only needed in small amounts and stifle his creativity. He is the individual longing to express himself fully, wanting to realise himself and maximise his output. Not at others' expense, mind. So when he encounters the professionalism of Andy Flower he sees an institution, a machine. Someone who he describes as being someone who simply was in the right place at the right time whilst the team of talented individuals peaked.

For the team, you see, is a compilation of individuals working to their maximum output which is only achieved when they are allowed to flourish as individuals. The world of conformity and 'the machine' has no place in sport. Whatever anyone says, the team will only do well when the key cogs are scoring centuries or taking five-wicket hauls. David Gower would look down approvingly from his moth-plane. 

For them that must obey authority
That they do not respect in any degree
Who despise their jobs, their destinies
Speak jealously of them that are free
Cultivate their flowers to be
Nothing more than something they invest in.

And from the other end of the crease we have Andy Flower. And probably Cook, Strauss, Bell, Trott, Vaughan, Gooch and several generations worth of players who might be considered quintessentially 'British' batsmen. For them the team is everything. Team spirit, 'momentum' and unity are not abstract terms to them but represent something fundamental to the game they love dearly. Loyalty and resilience; national pride. 
After all, how can exceptions be made for the one individual whose disregard for the rules could potentially jeopardise the whole team's attitude and performance? Obviously, the individuals must be catered for, but the mindset of each individual must be for the greater good of the team and the bonds created within the team are essential for that. Yes, there is intensive discipline and professionalism but in the modern game that is essential to ensure that everyone achieves peak performance levels. 
Sometimes do things gets a bit competitive and heated? Yes, but this is life, you deal with it and move on. KP sees this as a culture of bullying and cleaques? Well, that's probably because never understood the need to think bigger than himself. Immaturity. Child-like. Little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously. 

KPs and Flowers are scattered everywhere. Maybe they are personality-types, or maybe we all have these attitudes within us to a certain degree. On the one hand the individual desires to achieve excellence, personal brilliance and fully accomplish their potential in whatever field. The idea of enforced conformity is synonymous with the suppression of  God-given gifts. Sometimes there seems nothing worse that having to abide by social norms which are not attuned specifically to our personalities, our hopes and dreams. We can gloomily anticipate a miserable and compromised existence. The Machine looms large with its stealthy combination of lethargy and inevitable acceptance and the individual longs to crush it. 

And yet the Flowers of this world come along and show us other things that seem more important, seem bigger, and seem worthwhile investing in despite all that. Family, friendships and relationships, the wider community, the Jewish people. These things can never be achieved alone. 

KP recognises the Flower position but thinks that these things can be achieved by leaving the individual to their own devices, to tread upon that path themselves. Flower sees the need to sacrifice the individual for the sake of the team not as a compromise but ultimately as a finer expression of that individuality. And the wheel goes round. 

So either KP is derided for being childish and selfish whilst he knows he is describing a painful emotional reality. Or Flower is called cruel, heartless and a happiness-drain whilst he knows that he selflessly dedicated himself for years for the good of the team. Different ways of seeing the world. Tension. The individual vs. the community, self-actualisation vs. the greater good of those around you. 

Perhaps I just take cricket too seriously. Either way, it is sad to see how miserable KP felt about the whole thing and how it seemed to overshadow all his accomplishments with the bat, in his own mind at least. It is very clear how this 'being misunderstood' shtick that he has complained of for years left him with a real sense of loneliness. In his final bow as a professional, the rather wistful words come to mind:

 You are right from your side and I am right from mine. It's been one too mornings and a thousand miles behind.

Or perhaps the angrier version from a live performance in 1976 in the midst of a relationship crisis is more appropriate:

You've no right to be here if I've no right to stay. It's been one too many mornings and a thousand miles away.

My Son, a Poet - What is this Narishkeit?! The Curious case of Poetry in Medieval Spain.

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      I can just imagine it being announced in a local shul: “The Rabbi’s Talmud Shiur will take place at 530 this afternoon in the Beis Ha Midrash followed by his weekly poetry recital”. I know I would laugh. Religious poetry is one thing, and even that seems rather arcane and outdated. Whilst I often leaf through the compilations of Slichot and Kinot at the appropriate time of year trying to feel some sort of connection with the unfamiliar words and sentence patterns, I have no doubt that ‘secular’ poetry in the Jewish world would be treated as frankly bizarre. It doesn’t sound very frum, does it? 

         So I find it fascinating to glimpse the world of the medieval Jews living in Muslim Spain and to note that for a period spanning several hundred years poetry was one of the most popular literary devices for Jewish writers and thinkers to express themselves. Additionally, it provides a fascinating insight into the lives and personalities of some of the great medieval luminaries.

          

         What is equally interesting is that many individuals such as R. Abraham Ibn Ezra, Dunash ibn Labrat and R. Yehudah ha Levi did not restrict their scope of expertise to one area but wrote works which spanned a number of disciplines. They didn’t have a specific religious vocation. It seems that today you are either a Posek, a Dayan, a communal Rov, more philosophically/Hashkafically inclined, Kiruv orientated or the like. I have rarely met anyone who would advocate an equal love for Halachic study and appreciation of the natural world, for example.

          

         The idea of poetry, seemingly for its own sake, is particularly jarring. In a sentence, its nakedly personal sentiments are often difficult to reconcile with popular ideas of religiosity. This topic came up in a course which I am studying on Chassidus – the idea that very few of the mystical experiences described by any of the great Kabbalistic masters touch upon what might be described as personal experiences. Rather, the feelings are presented in objective terms as a means of divine inspiration. It is as though the personal element detracts from the religiosity of the subject matter.

          

         In the hands of the skilled word-smith, however, the reader stares into the deepest recesses of the writer’s soul. An interesting point of comparison may also be made with the 19^th century romantic philosophers, some of whom described poetry as being the very essence of philosophy, as “A philosophical system is not so much an inanimate baggage to be acquired or transferred at will; it springs from the depths of the soul”. (Quote from a random book on Western Philosophy that I picked up in a second-hand bookshop in Jerusalem) 

          

         Similarly, the distinction between overtly religious and secular poetry might also be considered illusionary. To quote one of the translators and scholars of R. Yehudah Ha-Levi’s Kuzari writing in 1905, Hartwig Hirshfield: “Such a division is superficial. For the essential characteristic of HaLevi’s poems – which are the expression of a deeply religious soul – is the lofty key to which they are attuned. Even in his drinking and love-songs, an attentive reader may hear the vibrations of religion’s overtones”.

          

         As a particular social group, Spanish Jewry in particular took to poetry. It flourished from the middle of 10^th to middle of 12^th Century in Muslim Spain and in Christian Spain from then until the mid-15^th Century. It could be described as versatile poetry rooted in Biblical tradition. Some notable poets include Solomon ibn Gabirol, Samuel ha Nagid and Yehudah ha Levi, who achieved artistic excellence in both devotional and secular poetry.

  So how did it start?

       The patronage of Jewish courtiers either as government official financiers or as landowners created favourable conditions for the development of secular poetry, and many Jews were appointed as court poets. Most eminent Jewish courtiers attracted scholars and artists of their own. As the court poet depended on his patron’s favour, he was commissioned to compose panegyrics (public speeches in praise of something) for his patron and dirges for death of his relatives. Poetry added to the prestige of the patron, but could also be a satirical weapon in the hand of poet.

        

    The Andalusian community took great pride in their poets. Genizah fragments show that poetry was preserved even after decline of the Spanish centres in the 12^th Century, and taken to Egypt and North Africa. In terms of style, many early poets emphasised a return to Biblical Hebrew which was seen as clear, precise, beautiful and divine. It often went hand-in-hand with philology and a precise understanding of grammatical forms was considered essential to producing good poetry. Certainly, this was greatly influenced by the spirit of rationalism and cultural exchange with Islam.

 Spanish Hebrew poets insisted that poetry should be rhymed and meticulous meter applied. The themes usually revolved around specific areas: e.g. satire, wisdom poems, classical feasts, wine and love, with motifs such as the theory of opposite absolutes being applied.

       

  The first poet to achieve fame as a secular poet was Menachem ben Saruk, but his rival and fellow grammarian Dunash b. Labrat achieved greater prominence for his merging of Hebrew and Arabic styles. This fusion became immensely popular. It was then expanded by Shmuel ha Nagid, whose prominent status helped spread poetry amongst Jewish communities. The author of the Mekor Chaim, Shlomo ibn Gabirol, added elements of depth and complexity to Jewish poetry, including personal poems about the struggle against fate and the yearning for love. The motif of the paradox – the feelings of intense sadness turning to intense joy, is particularly notable. By the end of 11^th century, the style was largely defined and many produced enriching and commendable works.

          

 The pinnacle of Jewish-Spanish poetry in Muslim Spain is undoubtedly found in the writings of R. Yehudah ha Levi whose poetry is characterised by his unique personality, love of the land of Israel and stylistic beauty. He composed both prayers and secular poems, and was unique in his flexible use of rhetorical devices, personal touches, and invention of new genres such as the return to Zion and Sea poetry. Even after the Almohad invasion of Andalusia in 1145 wrought havoc amongst the Jewish communities in Muslim Spain, completely destroying them, the tradition of poetry continued to develop in the Christian Spanish communities until the late 15th Century. 

           

         Next week I will give a few examples of some of these poems and different genres from a book lent to me by Adam Gaventa (Shout-out number 2).