When Grammarians Quarrel
The tragic story of Menahem ibn Saruq.
Grammar is not a emotional subject, we don’t expect grammarians to fall out or try to damage each other’s careers because they disagree about the rules of language. But that is exactly what happened in 10th century Spain, when the study of Hebrew grammar was in its infancy.
It took a long time for people to realise that the way they spoke was governed by grammatical rules. The first humans to speak lived more than 150,000 years ago and writing has been around for about 5,000 years. Yet the first formal study of the rules of language was only made in the 4th century BCE, by the Sanskrit scholar Panini. 100 years later Aristotle was among the first to identify and define the parts of speech. The study of grammar then ground to a halt, only reviving in the 7th century CE when Arabic became the common language of the expanding Islamic world.
Arab grammarians, who believed that their language was the most beautiful and sublime tongue in the world composed poetry to show off its elegance and subtlety. Jews living alongside them in Muslim countries quickly realised that the rules of grammar which applied to Arabic also applied to Hebrew, that the two were sister languages and that it was possible to write superb poems in Hebrew, as lofty as anything the Arabic-speaking poets were creating. Hebrew, which had always been a language of religion and prayer, took on a secular dimension. Talented Hebrew poets wrote about the pleasures of life, about wine and friendship, fate, emotions and mystery; pieces that often surprise us for their eroticism and sensuality. They studied grammar too, knowing that it was only possible to compose linguistically perfect poems if one understood all the technicalities of the language.
The centre of the Hebrew poetic world was Al-Andalus, modern day Spain, where Jews lived under Muslim rule in relative freedom. It was in the Andalusian city of Cordoba that the Mahberet, the first systematic dictionary of the Hebrew language appeared, composed in in the middle of the 10th century by the Jewish grammarian and poet, Menahem ibn Saruq. Menahem had discovered that, like Arabic, Hebrew words contained root letters, which were manipulated and adapted to express different parts of speech.
Menahem’s patron and employer was the powerful and wealthy Hasdai ibn Shaprut, a minister in the Caliph’s court in Cordoba, one of the most senior figures in the government and the undisputed leader of the local Jewish community. A diplomat who corresponded with rulers around the known world, Hasdai was the first person to exchange letters with the king of the Khazars, the oriental tribe whose rulers, it had recently been discovered, had all converted to Judaism. The letters that Hasdai sent were mostly written on his behalf by Menahem, acting as his secretary.
While Menahem was working for Hasdai, a young poet named Dunash ibn Labrat, arrived in Cordoba. A native of Fez in Morocco, he had been studying in Baghdad where Arabic poetry was more advanced than that in Spain. Dunash arrived in Spain armed with new poetic techniques that would in due course change the nature of Hebrew poetry.
Dunash was familiar with Menahem’s dictionary and concurred with his grammatical theories about the roots of words. But, compared to the lessons he had learned in Baghdad, Dunash regarded Menahem’s approach to grammar and poetry as backward and provincial. He disagreed with various technical aspects of Menahem’s grammatical theory and he was not shy about making his opinions known. He wrote to Hasdai, Menahem’s patron, undermining Menahem’s scholarship and extolling himself as a superior poet.
Dunash’s letter to Hasdai was in the form of a poem. He began by praising Hasdai, emphasising his recent diplomatic successes and, in a shameless way to win his favour, flattered him with highly exaggerated, obsequious courtesies. He then launched into a denunciation of Menahem’s work that may have been technically correct but which had the effect of turning Hasdai against his former scribe, with devastating consequences.
Much is missing from the historical record and the details of what happened next are not known. It appears that Dunash’s denunciation of Menahem encouraged others to come forward, perhaps people with genuine grievances against Menahem, accusing him of crimes or heresies, the truth of which may never be known. The upshot was that Menahem was dismissed from Hasdai’s service and was subjected to the most outrageous cruelties. At Hasdai’s command, Menahem was stripped and beaten, on Shabbat of all times, had his house burnt down and was thrown into jail.
Modern scholars have come up with all sorts of theories and suggestions, generally without much justification, as to why Menahem was treated so appallingly. Perhaps he was indeed guilty of some terrible crime. Perhaps he had upset Hasdai in some way. Or perhaps Dunash’s technical condemnation of his grammatical rules was far more consequential than we can imagine today.
Understandably, Menahem felt desperately wronged. He wrote a letter to Hasdai that evinced the callous response “If you have sinned, I have already punished you as you deserve; but if you have not sinned, I have made you merit eternal life in the world beyond.”
Menahem’s reply was both scathing and rather pathetic:
Do you consider this a judgement? Do you think such words are proof enough? Will not God find this out? He that planted the ear, will He not hear? He that moulded the eye, will He not see? Will you muzzle my mouth with an east wind, and silence my tongue with taunting lies? Is not my dust the same as yours, and your God mine—He who searches out all secrets and delves into man’s inmost being?
Listen, man, for your servant still has something more to say. Know, my lord, that you have taken the role of God in my trial. You have judged me as though you were God, sentenced me as though you were the Most High, who is both witness and judge. All the hidden things are His; He knows the secrets of the heart. But this is not how He ordained that mortal judges should sit in judgement. I know that it is not God, but men, who set you against me; it is they who have deprived me of my share in the Lord’s inheritance.
My oppressors have done me violence, and I shall cry out to the earth: O earth, cover not my blood! From the four quarters come, O wind, from which my spirit drew its breath! Mourn, turn right. Lament, turn left. Put on sackcloth for me, roll in ashes. In grief for me, who am half of you, pluck out your hair. Lie writhing on the ground for my embittered soul. Wail for me through all the years of the earth. Never let your cry abate. Lift up your hands on high: you may yet help. Pour out your complaint: you may inspire awe. For my vindicator lives, He has not forgotten to be gracious, He has not resolved to hide His face. . . .
Though I am still speaking, stringing words together, it is not to rebuke you. Though I recall days gone by, it is not to profit by them. But now my spirit constrains me to say: Arise, my lord, and behold, listen to the suppliant’s cry. You will make the sad heart sing for joy if you do not cover your face with clouds. I ask nothing but an attentive ear. If a man of your rank were to turn to the likes of me, none would wonder. And if you were to bend down to me and heed my prayer, your glory would not be diminished, nor your eminence lessened. I shall awaken memories of the past in which my righteousness is manifest. If you choose the path of truth, you will thank me for having done so!
Menahem’s plea fell on deaf ears and nothing more was heard of him after he wrote to Hasdai. It is believed that he died not long after. His students took up the cudgels on his behalf, writing in Menahem’s defence and trying to restore his reputation.
The irony is that despite Dunash’s criticism, he was no more correct than Menahem in his grammatical theory. Both men were partly correct but it fell to Judah ibn Hayyaj, one of Menahem’s students to correct the errors of both his teacher and Dunash.
As for Dunash, history has treated him kindly. He and Menahem are both eulogised as founders of Hebrew grammar and Dunash himself is regarded as a consequential Hebrew poet. Which perhaps is how it should be. Dunash’s quarrel with Menahem was scholarly, there is no evidence that he was behind the physical attack on Menahem. That sits firmly at the feet of Hasdai.
