Monday 2 September 2013

Men of the Nation Part 9

Not yet a Conclusion—Homens de Nação and Homens de Negócios:
Horizontal and Not Horizontal Relations


Listen to the word simulacrum, within it is simul, maning “at the same time”; and simul is the common root of two rather contradictory trajectories of meaning: similitude, meaning resemblance or imaginary proximation; and simulis, reciprocal hatred, rivalry.[1]

Throughout one’s whole life and in ther course of many generations, the Marrano or Crypto-Jew or simply the Sepharad who called himself and his family part of the men of the nation, there was series of deceptions, imitations and ambiguous self-presentations.  These masking and unmasking events were prompted by changes in circumstances—a move to a new country, an appearance of a an eager and strict ecclesiastical official, a moment of distrust in one’s spouse, child, servant, neighbor or self.  Some people could virtually go through a lifetime without the need to confront he secret in one’s soul but at any point the stress, strain and anxiety of the illusion could become too much, the delusion would burst forth, the individual or small group would decide to confess, present themselves before the Holy Office, denounce one another, plead for mercy, and then disavow the revelation, argue for a re-trial, or, hearing the Inquisitoors read out lengthy charges accumulated over many years about one’s self and one’s ancestors, out of pique, out of a decision to affirm something contrary to the requested faith and commitment, one professed a belief in the Law of Moses and the God of Abraham, no matter that one had never heard of or imagined such things as the friar or inquisitorial lawyer read out. And if one tried to temporize and trivialize the charges, saying one was only a businessman, someone concerned with commerce and manufacturing, not with beliefs and practices of religion, the anti-Semites turned that against you.  Where you tried to find your identity you found your identity: that is, when you wanted to be like everyone else and denied the differences, you were told you were only like those you pretended not to be.  Like the Devil, that master of disguises and duiplicity, you were a demonic fool, a heretic, an enemy of the Church and of the one true God.

The question next arises as to whether there really was a connection between this notion of naçio and the term negoçio, a businessman or a commercial agent.  Rather than arguing as Claude B. Stuczynci does in terms set by Werner Stombart in 1911 and based in turn on the model sketched by Max Weber in regard to the historical relationship between Protestantism and Capitalism, I want to bring this long discussion on the homens de naçio io a close by continuing to put at the centre the relationship between different branches of the Sephardic family in and out of exile and the rest of world Jewry.  Yet even here the question revolves around something other than ethnicity, that is, a more or less polite term for a racial essence in Judaism.[2]  The key characteristic of the whole enterprise of Sephardic nationalism cutting across the normal legal, political and geographical boundaries that mark the national status of other peoples lies precisely in their collective activity in and loyalty towards the modern, post-feudal economic system.  This juxtaposition of the regressive and the progressive is paradoxical, but it is not our perceptions that force such a contradictory alignment.  Again, this characteristic is self-declared and implicit in the self-expression of the Sephardic community in exile during the first two centuries following the 1490s; it is not a racial slur invented by anti-Semites to stigmatize all Jews as demonic agents of modern capitalism and communism (combined). 

What is traditional about the situation is that Jews respond to historical transformations in two contradictory ways: in very rough general outline they are—one, by withdrawing into their own world of Talmudic study and obsessive concern with the picayune rituals of life that protect the psychological boundaries of their identity as a people apart; and by moving into the new ways of life which have not built up institutionalized rules of exclusion (such as the trade guilds, military orders, and faculties of most universities) and the high-risk ventures  which most non-Jews tend to avoid until profits are assured and strategies of protected working out are established (international banking and commerce, import-export to the new worlds, and new technologies, such as gun powder, silk, etc.) after which they suffer from exclusion again.  As Crypto-Jews or Marranos, however, using the disguise of New Christians, Sephardim could—at least, more than before the crisis period—move into the professions, orders and social circles forbidden to Jews.  These “passings over” were, however, always fraught with high degrees of anxiety and danger, so that before even one generation of the mass conversions had completed its transition to the new modes of living and working, the main reasons for turning away from Judaism and the Jewish community had been compromised: New Christians tended to live and work with New Christians more than with non-Christians and to maintain many, though not all, mannerisms and contacts with both Old Jews (who had never converted but chose to escape or accept deportation to other parts of the world) and ba’alim teshuvim (those who returned to Judaism as soon as they could or when they deemed such a return strategically or spiritually opportune), with a significant minority of individuals and families not only dividing into units on both sides of the new confessional boundaries but occupying more tentative and fluid areas between—sequentially, alternatively, or ambiguously.

It has been suggested that the members of the naçio were more interested in their own economic well-being than in the spiritual or moral standing of the group.  According to this argument, they made choices about where they would live, with whom they would marry and trade, and what they would perform in public and private as religious duties simply on the grounds of expediency.  Such a view is jaundiced or disingenuously takes the Sephardim to be little more than cynics themselves.  It assumes that these people were making modern choices in a world that was not yet modern, that is, that they were secular beyond their times, and more inward turning than other Jews or Christians of the time.  That this perception is possible, of course, aptly suggests that something was in the process of change in their collective mentality, to be sure; but it projects the clarity and purposefulness of the historical outcome for the more confused circumstances of the earlier moment.  The analogy to be drawn comes from a series of crucial moments in Jewish history when an individual, family or small community chooses to enter into a covenantal relationship with one another and with an until-then unknown, unrecognized or misunderstood supernatural entity: i.e., the choosing or self-choosing of Abraham to be the founder of a monotheistic belief system, the revelation of the Law to Moses and the acceptance of the covenant by the Children of Israel at Sinai, and the promulgation of the Mishnah by Yohannan ben Zakkai in the Academy of Yavneh to establish an interpretive community in lieu of the priestly cult of temple sacrifices.

Underlying these revolutions, as it were, in  the development of the Jewish nation stands the truly unique notion that the Covenant entered into by each generation of the Children of Israel is a compact between God and, not a state or a sovereign ruler, nor even a collective body of persons, but each individual, male and female.  In entering into this covenantal relationship, moreover, each party both constitutes itself as a legal partner with responsibilities determined by the nature of their historical being and also creates a mutual dependence albeit not of equal strengths or insights.  On the one hand, whatever reality God may have had prior to the event at Sinai—whatever His overwhelming powers as Creator of the Universe and source or agency of Fate—from the making of the Covenant He defines Himself as and takes on the responsibilities of the Lord who led the Children of Israel out of slavery in Egypt and made them a sovereign nation of priests in the Promised Land.  On the other hand, each individual Jew, no matter what their prior condition as slaves, nomads or worshipers of lesser or false deities, becomes a responsible party with responsibilities to sanctify the world and develop its inherent propensities towards perfection.  Performance of the obligations mandated by this contractual Law—the observation of the mitzvoth—also requires acts of love, justice, and charity towards fellow partners in the agreement and with other individuals and nations who fall within the included sub-category of covenantal relationships, the Noachic Code.  Each individual is thus required to know, understand and act on these mitzvoth according to their underlying principles and in the light of changing historical circumstances.

The crises of the forced conversions and dispersions of the Sephardim in the early modern period test these precepts to their utmost, putting the individuals and families involved into a situation where they have to relate to one another as both Jews and non-Jews, as victims of and agents for the institutions of repression represented by the Catholic Monarchies, their allies and colonial territories.  While there is a tendency, especially amongst those who return to rabbinic Judaism after one or more generations as New Christians, to emphasize either the strict constructionism of Talmudic law in the style of Ashkenazi pilpul or to stress the mystical and mythological messianism of kabbalah, the heart of the naçio’s mentality seems to keep hold to the traditional Pharisaic notion of revelation.   As Georges Hansel puts it, “Jewish law is not a horizontal accumulation of juxtaposed imperatives[3]but an ongoing dialectic of discussion and debate between individuals.  These individuals have been empowered by the Covenant with God to speak and reach decisions on their own appropriate to their own varying circumstances, circumstances which include the confusing and shocking effect of sustained persecution, massive conversion, and repeated expulsion, escape and wandering.  The Maharal of Prague explained the principle of majority rule amongst sages and judges in The Well of the Diaspora:

Truth in itself is complex and subtle; it has many facets.  The multiplicity of opinions does not reflect different degrees on a scale from error to truth, but rather the diverse and sometimes contradictory aspects of a truth that is unique only by way of that multiplicity.  Every judge has the duty to forge his own conviction.  This collective effort brings to light the various principles and ideas to be considered in the elaboration of the decision. [4]
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Finally, the matter is summed up by Hansel, thus indicating implicitly how and why the Sephardic nation could formulate itself into a powerful political and religious institution without requiring a separate and specific geographical space, linguistic zone or cultural matrix:

In its legal component, the essential objective of Jewish law is not to establish an efficient social organization and harmony in the community.  Likewise, in its ritual component it is not limited to establishing the framework for the expression of religious feeling. . . . it’s very aim is to impose on men a model of justice and rules of conduct governed by a set of abstract principles.  This model of justice and these abstract principles go largely beyond what is required for good administration of the collective [5]

Because this kind of conceptual discussion deals with matters which are normally the domain of nations and not of religions per se in the current academic sense the kind of self-identifying people at the heart of this essay are best approached as a nation: like the rest of the People of Israel until an independent, autonomous state was founded on part of the ancient territory of the Land of Israel, these “men of the nation” were part of a “nation in exile”, whose laws, customs and social institutions drew from the texts of the ancient books and developed from shared and analogous historical experiences.  The naçio was a collective group which could both be considered part of the larger collectivity of world Jewry, to be sure, as well as of that section known as Sephardim, but also at times part of the different non-Jewish states, societies and countries they found themselves in from time to time, even before emancipation was granted and assimilation made possible. 





[1] Didi-Huberman, Invention of Hysteria, p. 274.

[2] See Aya Elyada’s review of Yaacov Deutsch, Judaism in Christian Eyes: Ethnographic Descriptions of Jews and Judaism in Early Modern Europe, trans. Avi Aronsky (Oxford: Oxford University Pres, 2012) on H-Net Reviews (August 2013) at http://www.h-net.org/reviews/showrev.php?id=36682.

[3] Hansel, p. 116.

[4] Maharal of Prague, paraphrased in Hansel, pp. 118-119

[5]  Hansel, p. 119.

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