In the year 948 Hasdai ibn Shaprut, a Jewish doctor in the court of the caliph in Cordoba, sent an envoy to Constantinople. Hasdai, who had first come to the caliph’s attention when he helped to translate a Greek pharmaceutical treatise into Arabic, was rising rapidly through the ranks of the court. The caliph sent him on various diplomatic errands and eventually appointed him as one of his most senior ministers and trusted advisors.
While Hasdai’s envoy was in Constantinople, he met a man who claimed to belong to the entourage of King Joseph, ruler of the Khazars. He told the envoy, whose name was Yitzhak Bar Nathan, that the Khazars were a nation who dwelt in the region between the Black and Caspian Seas. They owed no allegiance to either the Islamic or Byzantine empires, in fact, he said, their king and all his subjects were Jews. Bar Nathan was astounded. He was a well-travelled diplomat, the emissary of one of the highest placed ministers in Spanish society, yet he’d never heard of the Khazars and he had no inkling that an independent Jewish kingdom existed anywhere in the world.
Bar Nathan sent word back to Hasdai who, it seems, had already heard rumours of this nation but had not known how to contact them. He wrote to the Khazar king who replied telling him that his nation had first appointed a Jewish warrior as their monarch after he had won a great victory for them. From that time on the nation had been ruled by a dynasty of Jewish kings.
We don’t know how much of this is true, but it is not quite as fanciful as the 9th century account written in a monastery in Lorraine by Christian of Stavelot. Stavelot said that the Khazars were the descendants of Gog from Magog who, according to the book of Ezekiel, would fight an apocalyptic war at the end of time. He said that the Khazars were circumcised and practised all the laws of Judaism. He claimed that Alexander the Great had tried to defeat the Khazars but had failed. Instead, to protect the world, he had confined them behind huge copper gates that he built at the entrance to their mountain enclave.
Many years later, according to another legend, one of the Jewish kings of the Khazars, a man named Bulan, decided that all his subjects should convert to Judaism. The neighbouring Christian and Islamic tribes tried to dissuade him; they said it wasn’t wise for the Khazars to adhere to the religion of the downtrodden Jews. But Bulan resolved to make his own decisions. He called in Jewish, Muslim and Christian sages, and commanded each of them to explain to him why theirs was the religion to which his people should adhere.
The three sages debated each other for several days but the king was unable to decide between them. Finally he asked the Islamic sage which religion he would select if it was a choice between the Christians and the Jews. The sage said he would opt for the Jews. The king then asked the Christian scholar the same question, if the choice was between Islam and Judaism. He too replied that they would choose Judaism. That clinched it for the king; he declared that Judaism would continue to be the wisest choice for his kingdom. (He doesn’t seem to have asked the Jewish scholar which he would choose, if the choice was between Islam and Christianity.)
There are some historical facts among these legends. The Khazars were a tribe who flourished in the 7th century in present day Kazakhstan, Armenia and Georgia and it is probable that at least some of them did convert to Judaism. But there is no historical evidence that one of their kings staged a debate between Jewish, Christian and Islamic scholars.
The lack of historical evidence did not stop the 12th century Spanish poet Yehuda Halevi from writing his most famous book based on the presumed debate. Halevi was one of the outstanding poets of the ‘Golden Age’, the tolerant cultural environment in Islamic Spain where Jews and Muslims lived together in relative harmony, where Arabic and Hebrew poetry and philosophy flourished, reaching new levels of sophistication and popularity. Among the hundreds of poems that Yehuda Halevi wrote there are love sonnets, songs in praise of wine and beauty, and many riddles. Halevi was a religious man, but there was nothing prudish about his poetry.
The book that Yehuda Halevi wrote about the Khazar king’s debate is known as the Kuzari. A work of philosophy, originally written in Arabic, it is the earliest systematic apologetic in favour of Judaism, a work of philosophy that doubles as a polemic for the faith.
According to Halevi’s fictional account, the Khazar king had originally called for a debate between an Aristotelian philosopher, a Christian and a Muslim. It was only after he had rejected the arguments of each of them that he summoned a rabbi. Halevi’s book concentrates on the discussions between the rabbi and the king. After the king accepts the rabbi’s arguments and agrees that he and all his subjects will convert to Judaism, the rabbi announced that he would now depart for the Land of Israel.
The ending of the book, with the rabbi departing for Israel, touches on the single most important theme in Halevi’s vast literary output. He believed passionately that it was the duty of every Jew to visit the Land of Israel, despite the hardships of travel in those days and the dangers that one was likely to face. Among his poems are a collection dedicated to the praise of the Land of Israel, a land which he had not yet seen but which he described with profound sensitivity, almost as if he was there in his imagination.
In the best known of these poems, known by its opening words, Zion will you not ask after the well -being of your captives, he takes his readers on a tour of the key landmarks in the country, places he has never seen but has no difficulty in describing: its mountains and forests, the burial places of the patriarchs, of Moses and of Aaron, the quality of its air and the spiritual properties that attach to the very land itself. Israel, he says, is the point where heaven and earth meet. It is the spot where the creation of the world took place, directly opposite the gates of heaven, on the site where the Jerusalem Temple once stood. The poem particularly resonates as this week marks the anniversary of the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple. Yehuda Halevi’s poetry about the land of Israel will be recited in many synagogues throughout the world.
Yehuda Halevi knew that he could not encourage others to make the journey to Israel unless he did so himself. In 1140, when he was getting on for 60 years old, he set off from Spain to Alexandria in Egypt, planning to take a boat from there to Israel. He didn’t reckon on his fame as a poet and philosopher though. His arrival in Egypt caused such excitement, he was made such a fuss of, that it took him a year to leave.
But leave he did. He boarded a boat heading for Jaffa. And that was the last that was ever heard of him.
It is probable that Yehuda Halevi did arrive in Israel, though there is no record of him ever doing so. Another legend (this article is full of them), says that he managed to make his way to Jerusalem, that on his arrival he bent down to kiss the stones on the ground. As he did so a passing horseman trampled over him and killed him.
Like the story of the Khazar conversion, it is only a legend though it does seem to be a fitting end to his life. He had achieved his dream, what was there left for him to do?
I think this requires a book, not an article! The short answer is there is no concept of Hell corresponding to Christianity.
There is a concept in Judaism of Gehenna, a place for the wicked. It is quite a late concept, post-biblical and like all Jewish theology of the afterlife, it is only very loosely defined. (We are more concerned with this world than the next). It doesn’t have the connotations that hell has in Christianity, it is not where you go if you don’t get into heaven. I don’t think it is a place of eternal punishment, though I’m not sure what one has to do to get in or, once in, how one gets out again.
It probably developed as a result of Greek and Christian influences; the name comes from the Valley of Hinnom outside Jerusalem which was apparently a pagan site of child sacrifices
I don’t know much about the Greek concept of the underworld, other than it was called Hades, and one was ferried there across the river Styx.
Sorry I can’t be more helpful. You credit me with greater knowledge than I have!
Since you seem to be a walking encyclopedia of Jewish tradition and history, I have another question, which may rate a future article.
I have read that in original Jewish tradition there is no concept of Hell as a place of eternal punishment. This concept was imported from the Greeks, who regarded the underworld as such a place.
Is this true?
If so, was it only incorporated into the Christian tradition, or does the Jewish tradition now include a hell?
Did the Greeks regard it as a place of fire and brimstone?
Regards,
William McCreight