His son, Receswinth, however, who was altogether unlike him, adopted an entirely different policy. Either from fanaticism, or in order to ingratiate himself with the clergy, at that time hostile to the throne, he proposed in an ecclesiastical council (which was at the same time a parliament) to deal rigorously with the Jews, more especially with such of them as had formerly feigned to be Christians. In his speech from the throne, Receswinth made the following appeal to the members of the council: "It is because I have learnt that my kingdom is polluted by them as by an epidemic that I denounce the life and the behavior of the Jews. For while the Almighty has entirely freed the country from heresy, a disgraceful desecration of the churches still continues. This shall either be reformed by our piety or rooted out by our severity. I mean that many of the Jews still persist in their old unbelief, while others, although purified by baptism, have relapsed so deeply into the errors of apostasy that their blasphemy seems even more abominable than the sin of those who have not been baptized. I adjure you, therefore, to decree against the Jews, without favor or respect of persons, some measure which shall be agreeable to God and to our faith." The Council of Toledo (the eighth), however, passed no new law against the Jews, but simply confirmed the canonical decisions of the fourth Council of Toledo. The Jews were, it is true, allowed to remain in the country, but could neither possess slaves, nor hold any office, nor appear as witnesses against Christians. But far harder was the fate of those who, during the persecutions, had pretended to embrace Christianity. They were compelled to remain within the pale of the Church, and to abjure Judaism once again. Flight was impossible, for severe punishments were decreed against all who renounced Christianity, or hid themselves anywhere, or attempted to leave the country. Even the abettors of, or accessories to, the flight of converts incurred heavy punishment. Those, however, who desired to continue outwardly in their pretended faith, but who still clung to Judaism in their inmost hearts, were required to subscribe anew to a renunciation of their religion (placitum Judæorum).
On February 18th, 654, the Jews of the capital Toletum (Toledo) signed a confession of the purport that they had already promised, it was true, under king Chintila, to remain steadfast to the Catholic faith, but that their unbelief and the erroneous opinions which they had inherited from their fathers had prevented them from acknowledging Christ as their Master. Now, however, they voluntarily promised for themselves, their wives, and their children that, in future, they would not observe the rites and ceremonies of Judaism. They would no longer hold culpable intercourse with unconverted Jews, neither would they intermarry with near relations (children of brothers and sisters), nor take Jewish wives, nor observe Jewish marriage-customs, nor practice circumcision, nor keep the Passover, the Sabbath, nor any other Jewish festivals; they would no longer observe the dietary laws – in a word, they would henceforward disregard the laws of the Jews and their abominable customs. On the other hand, they would honestly and devoutly profess a religion in conformity with the gospel and the apostolic traditions, and observe the precepts of the Church without deceit or pretense. One thing, however, was impossible, namely, that they should partake of pork; they were entirely unable to overcome their abhorrence of it. They promised, however, to partake freely of anything which might have been cooked with pork. Whoever among them should be guilty of a violation of this promise was to be put to death by fire or by stoning at the hands of their companions or their sons. To all of this they swore "by the Trinity." It is probable that the forced converts in the other cities of the Visigothic-Spanish empire were obliged to give similar written assurances. At the same time they were still compelled to pay the tax levied on the Jews, for the Treasury could not afford to lose by their change of faith.
As king Receswinth was well aware, however, that the independent nobles of the country afforded the Jews their protection, and allowed such of them as had been converted by force to live according to their convictions, he issued a decree forbidding all Christians to befriend the secret Jews, under penalty of excommunication and exclusion from the pale of the Church. But these measures and precautions by no means accomplished the intended result.
The secret Jews, or as they were officially termed, the Judaizing Christians, could not tear Judaism out of their hearts. The Spanish Jews, surrounded as they were by perils of death, early learnt the art of remaining true in their inmost soul to their religion, and of escaping their Argus-eyed foe. They continued to celebrate the Jewish festivals in their homes, and to disregard the holy-days instituted by the Church. Desirous of putting an end to such a state of things, the representatives of the Church issued a decree, which aimed at depriving this unfortunate people of their home life; they were henceforward compelled to spend the Jewish and Christian holy-days under the eyes of the clergy, in order that they might thereby be obliged to disregard the former and to observe the latter (655).
When, after a long reign, Receswinth died, the tormented Jewish converts took part in a revolt against his successor, Wamba (672–680). Count Hilderic, Governor of Septimania, a province of Spain, having refused to recognize the newly-elected king, raised the standard of revolt. In order to gain adherents and means, he promised the converted Jews a safe refuge and religious liberty in his province, and they, taking advantage of the invitation, emigrated in numbers. The insurrection of Hilderic of Nismes assumed greater proportions, and at first gave hopes of a successful issue, but the insurgents were eventually defeated. Wamba appeared with an army before Narbonne, and expelled the Jews from this city. At the council which he convened (the eleventh) the Jews did not form the subject of any legislation; they seem, on the contrary, to have enjoyed a certain amount of freedom during his reign, and to have made some efforts towards their self-preservation.
In order, on the one hand, to prove that, although they were unable to reconcile themselves to Christianity, they were not entirely bereft of reason, as their enemies had declared at the councils and also in their writings; and, on the other hand, in order to keep their ancestral belief alive both in themselves and in such of their brethren as only partly belonged to the Christian faith, certain talented Jews set themselves to compose anti-Christian treatises, probably in Latin. One point alone is known of the arguments advanced in these polemical writings. The authors referred to a tradition relating that the Messiah would not appear before the seventh cycle of a thousand years, counting from the creation of the world; the first six cycles corresponded to the six days of the creation, and the seventh would be the universal Sabbath, the reign of the Messiah. But as, according to their method of reckoning, hardly five thousand years had elapsed from the creation to the birth of Jesus, it was impossible, they maintained, that the Messiah had appeared. This objection must have been forcibly urged by the Jewish writers, for many Christians were thereby made to waver in their faith.
This partial liberty of religion, thought, and speech, was suppressed by Wamba's successor, who gained possession of the throne by treacherous means. Erwig, who was of Byzantine origin, and who possessed to the full the deceitfulness and unscrupulousness of the degenerate Greeks, caused Wamba to assume the cowl, and proclaimed himself king. In order to have his usurpation recognized as lawful succession, Erwig found himself obliged to make some concessions to the clergy, and accordingly he handed the Jews over to them as victims. With assumed earnestness, he addressed the council which was assembled to crown him, and in a fanatical speech, submitted for confirmation a series of laws against the Jews. The portion of the royal speech which was directed against the Jews ran as follows: "With tears streaming from my eyes, I implore this honorable assembly to manifest its zeal, and free the land from this plague of degeneracy. Arise, arise, I cry unto you; put to the test the laws against the apostasy of the Jews which we have just promulgated."
Of the seven-and-twenty paragraphs which Erwig submitted to the council for ratification, one alone related to the Jews; the rest were leveled at those forced converts who, despite their promises to persist in the Christian faith, and the severe punishment that followed in case of detection, were still unable to abandon Judaism. Erwig's edict made but short work of the Jews. They were commanded to offer themselves, their children, and all persons under their control, for baptism within the space of a year, otherwise their property would be confiscated, one hundred lashes would be inflicted on them, the skin torn off their head and forehead to their everlasting shame, and they themselves driven out of the country. On the converted Jews, fresh hardships were imposed. They were now not only obliged to spend the Christian and Jewish holy-days under the eyes of the clergy, but were further subjected to clerical control in all their movements. Whenever they set out upon a journey, they had to present themselves before the ecclesiastical authorities of the place, and obtain a certificate from them, setting forth the time they had lived there, and attesting that their conduct had been in rigorous conformity with Church law during that period. At the same time, unless they could prove that they had led a blameless, Christian life, they were incompetent to hold any office, even to act as village bailiff (vilicus, actor) over Christian slaves. They always had to carry about with them a copy of the laws which had been passed against them, so that they might never be able to plead ignorance in excuse. The ecclesiastical and royal judges were instructed to watch strictly over the execution of these orders, and all Christians were forbidden to accept any presents from converted Jews.
The council, at the head of which was Julian, the Metropolitan of Toledo, a man of Jewish descent, passed all Erwig's proposals, and enacted that these laws, as ratified by the decision of the synod, were by general acknowledgment inviolable for all time. Two days after the prorogation of this council, the Jews, both those that had remained true to their religion and those that had been converted, were called together, the laws were read to them and their rigid observance strictly enjoined (January 25th, 681). A third time the converted Jews were compelled to abjure Judaism and to draw up a confession of faith – with the same sincerity, of course, as under Chintila and Receswinth.
But the Visigothic-Spanish Jews fared still worse under Erwig's successor, Egica. He did not drive them out of the country, it is true, but he did what was worse, he restricted their rights. He prohibited the Jews and the Judaizing Christians from possessing landed property and houses; moreover, they were forbidden to repair to Africa, or to trade with that continent, or to transact business with any Christians whatever. They were compelled to surrender all their real estate to the Treasury, and were indemnified, probably not too liberally, for the same (693). Only those that were really converted were left unfettered by these restrictions.
The Jews were driven to despair by this new law, which it was impossible to evade, as their real estate was actually confiscated; they accordingly united in a perilous conspiracy against their unrelenting foe. They entered into an alliance with their more fortunate brethren in Africa, with the intention of overthrowing the Visigothic empire, and were probably aided by the boldly-advancing Mahometans and the malcontent nobles of the country (694). The attempt might easily have succeeded, for, owing to dissension, unnatural vices and weakness, the country was far advanced in a state of ruin and dissolution. But the conspiracy of the Jews was discovered before it had matured, and severe punishment was inflicted not only on the culprits, but on the whole Jewish population of Spain, including that of the province of Septimania (together with Narbonne). They were all sentenced to slavery, presented to various masters, and distributed throughout the country, their owners being prohibited from setting them free again. Children of seven years of age and upwards were torn from their parents and given to Christians to be educated. The only exception made was in favor of the Jewish warriors of the narrow passes of the Gallic province, who formed a bulwark against invasion. They were indispensable, and their bravery protected them from degradation and slavery, but even they were compelled to change their religion.
The Spanish Jews continued in this state of degradation until Egica's death. When his son Witiga followed him to the grave, the last hours of this empire were evidently at hand. The Jews of Africa, who at various times had emigrated thither from Spain, and their unlucky co-religionists of the Peninsula, made common cause with the Mahometan conqueror, Tarik, who brought over from Africa into Andalusia an army eager for the fray. After the battle of Xeres (July, 711), and the death of Roderic, the last of the Visigothic kings, the victorious Arabs pushed onward, and were everywhere supported by the Jews. In every city that they conquered the Moslem generals were able to leave but a small garrison of their own troops, as they had need of every man for the subjection of the country; they therefore confided them to the safe-keeping of the Jews. In this manner the Jews, who but lately had been serfs, now became the masters of the towns of Cordova, Granada, Malaga, and many others. When Tarik appeared before the capital, Toledo, he found it occupied by a small garrison only, the nobles and clergy having found safety in flight. While the Christians were in church, praying for the safety of their country and religion, the Jews flung open the gates to the victorious Arabs (Palm-Sunday, 712), receiving them with acclamations, and thus avenged themselves for the many miseries which had befallen them in the course of a century since the time of Reccared and Sisebut. The capital also was entrusted by Tarik to the custody of the Jews, while he pushed on in pursuit of the cowardly Visigoths, who had sought safety in flight, for the purpose of recovering from them the treasure which they had carried off.
Finally, when Muza Ibn-Nosair, the Governor of Africa, brought a second army into Spain and conquered other cities, he also delivered them into the custody of the Jews. It was under these favorable conditions that the Spanish Jews came under the rule of the Mahometans, and like their co-religionists in Babylonia and Persia, they were esteemed the allies of their rulers. They were kindly treated, obtained religious liberty, of which they had so long been deprived, were permitted to exercise jurisdiction over their co-religionists, and were obliged, like the conquered Christians, to pay only a poll-tax (Dsimma). Thus were they received into that great alliance, which, to a certain extent, united all the Jews of the Islamite empire into one commonwealth.
As the Mahometan empire grew in size, the activity of its Jewish inhabitants increased in proportion. The first Caliphs of the house of Ommiyyah, by reason of their continual wars with the descendants and comrades of Mahomet, with the fanatical upholders of the letter of the Koran, and with the partisans of the spiritual Imamate (high-priesthood), had become entirely free from that narrow-mindedness and mania for persecution which characterized the founder and the first two Caliphs. The following rulers of the Mahometans, Moawiyah, Yezid I., Abdul-Malik, Walid I., and Suliman (656–717), were far more worldly than spiritual; their political horizon was extensive, and they fettered themselves but little with the narrow precepts of the Koran and the traditions (Sunna). They loved Arabic poetry (Abdul-Malik was himself a poet), held knowledge in esteem, and rewarded the author quite as liberally as the soldier who fought for them. The Jewish inhabitants of Mahometan countries soon adopted the Arabic language. It is closely related, in many of its roots and forms, to Hebrew, with which language all of them were more or less familiar, and they needed a knowledge thereof, as it was the indispensable medium of communication. The enthusiasm which the Arabs felt for their language and its poetry, the care which they took to keep it pure, accurate and sonorous, had their effect upon the Jews, and taught them to employ correct forms of speech. During the six hundred years which had elapsed since the fall of the Jewish nation, the Jews had lost the sense of beauty and grace of expression; they were negligent in their speech, careless of purity of form, and indifferent to the clothing of their thoughts and emotions in suitable terms. A people possessed of an imperfect delivery, using a medley of Hebrew, Chaldee, and corrupt Greek, was not in a position to create a literature, much less to enchain the wayward muse of poetry. But, as already mentioned, the Jews of Arabia formed an exception. They acquired from their neighbors correct taste, and the art of framing their speech pleasantly and impressively. The Jewish tribes of Kainukaa and Nadhir, which had emigrated to Palestine and Syria, the Jews of Chaibar and Wadil-Kora, who had been transplanted to the region of Kufa and the center of the Gaonate, brought with them to their new home this love and taste for the poetical Arabic tongue, and gradually instilled them into their co-religionists. Hardly half a century after the occupation of Palestine and Persia by the Arabs, a Babylonian Jew was able to handle the Arabic language for literary purposes: the Jewish physician, Messer-Jawaih of Bassorah, translated a medical work from the Syriac into Arabic. Henceforward the Jews, together with the Syrian Christians, were the channels through which scientific literature reached the Arabs.
The enthusiasm of the Arabs for their language and the Koran evoked in the hearts of the Jews a similar sentiment for the Hebrew tongue and its holy records. Besides this, the Jews were now obliged to make closer acquaintance with the Scriptures, in order that they might not be put to the blush in their controversies with the Mahometans. Until now the talented men among them had turned their attention exclusively to the Talmud and the Agadic exposition, but necessity at last compelled them to return to the source, the Bible.
As soon, however, as it was desired to recover what had been lost for centuries, and to return with ardor to the study of Biblical literature, a need manifested itself which first had to be supplied. In supplying the Biblical text with the vowel signs invented in Babylonia or in Tiberias, it was necessary to proceed in such passages, as had not become familiar by frequent reading in public, according to grammatical rules. The Punctuators were obliged to be guided partly by tradition and partly by their sense of language. In this manner there arose the rudiments of two branches of knowledge: one treating of the above-mentioned rules of the Hebrew language, the other of the science of orthography, together with the exceptions as handed down by tradition (Massora). This apparently unimportant invention of adding certain strokes and points to the consonants thus led to the comprehension of the Holy Scriptures by the general public and the initiation of a more general knowledge of Judaism. By its help the holy language could now celebrate its revival; it was no longer a dead language employed only by scholars, but might become a means of educating the people. The auxiliary signs tended to break down the barrier between the learned (Chacham) and the unlearned (Am-ha-Arez).
An immediate consequence of contact with the Arabs and the study of the Holy Writ was the birth of neo-Hebraic poetry. Poetical natures naturally felt themselves impelled to make use of the copious Hebrew vocabulary in metrical compositions and polished verse, in the same manner as the Arabs had done with their language. But while the Arabic bards sang of the sword, of chivalry, of unbridled love, bewailed the loss of worldly possessions, and attacked with their satire such of their enemies as they could not reach with the sword, the newly-awakened Hebrew poetry knew of but one subject worthy of enthusiasm and adoration, God and His providence, of but one subject worthy of lament, the destitution and sorrows of the Jewish nation. The new-born Hebrew poetry, however different in form and matter from that of the Bible, had a religious foundation in common with it. The psalm of praise and the soul-afflicting dirge of lamentation were taken by the neo-Hebraic poets as their models. But a third element also claimed attention. Since the state had lost its independence, learning had become the soul of Judaism; religious deeds, if not accompanied by knowledge of the Law, were accounted of no worth. The main feature of the Sabbath and festival services was the reading of portions of the Law and the Prophets, the interpretation thereof by the Targumists and the explanation of the text by the Agadists (preachers of homilies). Neo-Hebraic poetry, if it was to reach the hearts of the people, could not be entirely devoid of a didactic element. The poet's only scene of action was the synagogue, his only audience, the congregation assembled for prayer and instruction, and his poetry, therefore, necessarily assumed a synagogical or liturgical character.
The poetical impulse was strengthened by practical necessity. The original divine service with its short and simple prayers was no longer sufficient. It was extended, it is true, by the recitation of psalms and appropriate liturgical compositions, but even this did not fill up the time which the congregation would gladly have spent in the house of God. This was especially felt on the New Year's festival and on the Day of Atonement, which were dedicated to deep devotion, and during the greater part of which the congregation remained in the house of prayer, contrite, and imploring forgiveness and redemption. It was evident that the divine service must be amplified, and more matter for meditation provided. In this manner arose the synagogical, or, as it was also called, the poetanic composition. At the head of the succession of neo-Hebraic poets stands José bar José Hayathom (or Haithom), whose works are not without true poetic ring, although devoid of artistic form. The date and nationality of this poet are entirely unknown, but it appears probable that he was a native of Palestine, and that he lived not earlier than the first Gaonic century.
José b. José took as the subject of his poems the emotions and memories which move a Jewish congregation on New Year's Day. On this occasion, the birthday of a new division of time, on which, according to Jewish ideas, the fate that the year has in store for men and communities is decided, God is extolled in a sublime poem as the mighty Master, the Creator of the world, the just Judge and the Redeemer of Israel. This poem, which was attached to the old prayers for the prescribed blowing of the cornet, and was intended to interpret them, embraces in a small compass the story of Israel's glorious past, its oppressed present, and promised future. José's poem is at once a psalm of triumph and of lamentation, interwoven with penitential prayers and words of hope. The resurrection is described in a few striking, picturesque lines.
Another and longer of José's poems has for its theme the ancient worship in the Temple on the Day of Atonement, which an attentive nation had once followed in devotional mood, and the description of which was well calculated to awaken the great memories of the glorious times of national independence (Abodah). It is a sort of liturgical epic, which describes simply, and without any lyrical strain, the creation of the universe and of man, the ungodliness of the first generation, Abraham's recognition of God, the election of his posterity as God's peculiar people, and the calling of Aaron's family to the service of the Temple. Arrived at the priesthood of Aaron, the poet, following the account of the Mishna, goes on to describe the duties of the high-priest in the Temple on the Day of Atonement, and concludes with the moment when the high-priest, accompanied by the whole nation, joyful and assured by visible signs of forgiveness, leaves the Temple for his home, – a beautiful fragment of the past, which has always awakened a powerful echo in the hearts of the Jewish people.
Elevation of thought and beauty of language are the characteristics of José b. José's poetry. His New Year's sonnets and Temple epic have become parts of the divine service of certain congregations, and have served as models for others. His verses are unrhymed and without meter, a proof of their great antiquity. The only artificial feature of his poetical works is the alphabetical or acrostic commencement of verses, for which several of the Psalms, Jeremiah's Lamentations, and the post-talmudical prayers served as models. In the first fruits of the new Hebraic poetry, form is completely subservient to the subject-matter. There has been preserved from ancient times another Abodah, ascribed to a poet named Simon ben Caipha. It appears to have been written in imitation of that of José b. José, but is greatly inferior to its model. However, it was honored by being adopted by the synagogue of the Gaonate. To the name of Simon Caipha, which sounds like the Jewish name of the apostle Peter, a peculiar legend is attached: The apostle, who supports the foundation of the Catholic Church, is represented as having written this Abodah in order to declare in the opening part his truly Jewish acknowledgment of God's unity, and to renounce his adherence to Jesus, as though the disciple who three times denied his Master had desired in this liturgical poem to attest his unbelief.
It was impossible that Jewish liturgical poetry could long remain satisfied with this simplicity of form. Little by little the Jews became acquainted with the poetry of the Arabs, the agreeable sound of its rhymes captivated them, and they were led to regard rhyme as the perfection of poetry. The poetanists, therefore, if they would be well received, could not afford to neglect this artistic device, and they assiduously devoted themselves to its cultivation. As far as is known, the first poet who introduced rhyme into the neo-Hebraic poetry was a certain Jannai, probably an inhabitant of Palestine. He composed versified prayers for those special Sabbaths which, either by reason of historical events connected with them, or of being a time of preparation for the approaching festivals, were possessed of particular importance. The Agadic discourses, which had been introduced on these Sabbaths, do not seem to have pleased the congregations any longer, because the preachers were unable to find new and attractive matter; they seem, indeed, to have read out the same discourses in a given order from year to year.
The poems of Jannai and his fellow-workers aimed at giving the substance of these Agadic expositions in the form of agreeable verse. Hence, Jannai's productions are versified Agadas. But as he was not enough of a poet to reproduce the elevated and striking passages of Agadic literature, as his rhymes were heavy and labored, and as he also burdened himself with the task of commencing his verses with consecutive letters of the alphabet, and of interweaving his name into them, his poems are dull, clumsy, and unwieldy.
Altogether neo-Hebraic poetry gained nothing during its earlier years by the introduction of rhyme. Eleazar ben Kalir or Kaliri (of Kiriat-Sepher), one of the first and most prolific of the poetanic writers, and a disciple of Jannai, was just as clumsy and harsh as his master, and his style was even more obscure. He wrote over 150 liturgical pieces, including hymns for the festivals, penitential prayers for the holy-days, songs of lamentation for the principal fasts, and various other compositions which cannot be classed under distinct heads. Kaliri put into most artificial verses a large portion of the Agadic literature, but only a few of his compositions have any poetical value, and none possesses beauty. In order to overcome the difficulties which were presented by the allusions to the Agada, by the use of rhyme, of the alphabetically arranged initial words and the interweaving of his name, Kaliri was obliged to do violence to the Hebrew language, to set at defiance the fixed rules which govern the use of words, and to create unprecedented combinations. In place of word-pictures, he often presents to his reader obscure riddles, which it is impossible to solve without a thorough acquaintance with the Agadic writings. Nevertheless, Kaliri's poetic compositions made their way into the liturgies of the Babylonian, Italian, German, and French Jews; the Spaniards alone, guided by delicate feeling for language, refused to adopt them. Kaliri was honored as the greatest of the poetanic writers, and tradition has glorified his name.
By the introduction of these compositions, the liturgy acquired an altered character. The translation of the portions of the Law which were read out to the congregation, and the Agadic expositions thereof, which, as the Jews of the Islamic empire adopted the Arabic language, had become unfamiliar to the multitude, gradually disappeared from the divine service, and their places were filled by metrical compositions (Piyutim) which answered the same purpose, and at the same time possessed the advantage of a poetical character. By this means considerable extension was given to the divine service. The reader supplanted the preacher. Singing was introduced into the synagogue, as the poetical prayers were not recited, but chanted (Chazanuth). Special tunes were introduced for the various prayers. But the poetanic compositions were not adopted by all congregations as part of their divine service. The Talmudical authorities were at first opposed to their adoption, for the reason that they were usually interpolated between the various divisions of the principal prayer, and in this manner destroyed the continuity and coherence of its separate parts.