Exile and Otherness. Ilana Maymind
with the rules of the prevailing religious establishment and was not afraid to challenge local Jewish leadership.
Despite Maimonides’ full integration into Egyptian life and society, his commitment to the Andalusian halakhic tradition remained firm implicitly testifying to his diasporic mentality. This commitment was tested again between 1189 and 1191 when Maimonides argued against some of the prevailing views held by the Babylonian Geonim—presidents of the Babylonian Talmudic Academies. A head of the Yeshiva in Baghdad, Samuel ben Eli, tried to do all in his power to discredit Maimonides’ rulings that it was permissible to sail on the Sabbath in the Euphrates and the Tigris. Maimonides’ approach combined an allowance for compromise (to ensure survival) with an argument against complacency. He combined his love for the Jewish people and anxiety for their personal safety with his concern for the Jewish community’s continual existence while also navigating a complex terrain of a possible intrareligious resistance.
A parallel can be seen in Maimonides’ behavior with his commitment to the Andalusian halakhic tradition and to those whom he considered his Andalusian “teachers”105 and Shinran’s loyalty to Hōnen. In both cases, an approach chosen by these two thinkers respectively was not always entirely in line with the position of those in power. Who was it that Maimonides agreed most?
Maimonides’ “Patriarchs”—Influences
In our discussion related to those who influenced Shinran’s thought, we focused on his Seven Patriarchs. In the case of Maimonides, his debt to his predecessors appears to be less straight-forward and depends on whether it addresses Maimonides’ debt in relation to his halakhic works or in relation to his philosophical writings. He acknowledges the influence on his thought of Aristotle, though read through the eyes of Alexander (active in the late second and early third century CE), Themistius (317–390), and Ibn Rushd (1126–1198). In addition to praising Ibn Rushd (al-Farabi), namely his Political Regime, Maimonides speaks highly of Ibn Bâjja and his Governance of the Solitary. He articulates his reverence for these thinkers in his introduction to the Commentary on Tractate Avot (“Eight Chapters”). Without referring to any specific names, he states that
the matters discussed by him are not invented on my own nor explanations I have originated. Indeed, they are matters gathered from the discourse of the sages in the Midrash, the Talmud, and other compositions of theirs, as well as from the discourse of both the ancient and modern philosophers, and from the compositions of many men.106
Explicitly naming Aristotle (or those who explicated his writings) would have been dangerously unprecedented, but even the reference to the “ancient and modern philosophers” and “many men” as a guide for his explanation of the commandments was already revolutionary. Maimonides further challenges authority by adding: “Hear the truth from whoever says it.”107 It is truth that matters not whether it comes from the mouth of a given sage. Similar to Shinran, holding his “teachers” in high esteem does not translate, however, into Maimonides’ complete agreement with their views.
While Shinran’s life never took him outside of his own cultural environment, Maimonides’ life placed him under different Islamic regimes and their different schools of legal thought. This forced immersion in the different culture and religion creatively influenced both, his thought and his writing. Maimonides’ embeddedness in Arabic culture can be seen even in the way he composed the Book of Commandments (Sefer ha-misvot). For instance, in Maimonides’ treatment of the poor, we note that in his discussion of the 197th commandment that addresses lending to the poor, he deploys a metaphor that cannot be found in any rabbinic sources, but uses “Arabic imagery” that “comes from his Arabic surrounding.”108
In other cases, these influences led Maimonides either to embrace the “potentially suspect sources,” such as already mentioned those of Greek and Muslim philosophers, or to strongly argue against the Kalām theologians whom Maimonides viewed as anti-philosophical.109 Despite his arguments against Islamic theologians and specifically Kalām theologians, Maimonides was more concerned that Kalām views could appeal to the Jewish circles, especially to the views of some Gaonim and the Karaites.110 This concern attests to Maimonides’ apprehension about the possibility of the decreased ability to exercise rational thought.111 Maimonides’ aim was to alert that “Jewish mutakallimūn” were the imitators of Muslim Kalām whose goal was to similarly manipulate the ignorant masses and prevent them from using their rational faculties.112 As seen from the above, Maimonides exercised an eclectic approach and his legal methodology reflects his deep immersion in the Almohad society and its law (fiqh).113
Analogous to Shinran’s writings, in which he further democratized and radicalized Hōnen’s teachings, Maimonides’ writings exhibit certain heretical features as well. Like Shinran, Maimonides espoused certain opinions that contradicted established norms and, as previously noted, also fearlessly integrated various influences. Nonetheless, he never strove to undermine the Jewish tradition, but rather focused on ensuring the preservation of Judaism and the Jewish people. By analogy, but also in contrast with Shinran, who interpreted (or in some cases translated) the words of his Seven Patriarchs in a slightly different vein than intended by them, Maimonides offered his own objections to some of the views of the sages but also to the views of those whom he called his “teachers.” Similar to Shinran, who introduced a radically new religious thought, but never aimed to destroy Tendai Buddhism, Maimonides’ aim was to transform in order to ensure continuous survival rather than to destroy Jewish thought and tradition. As discussed above, in some cases, it required the ability to compromise without yet betraying one’s tradition.
Like Shinran, Maimonides did not have any institutional support that could have helped him to legitimize the transformations he envisioned. Neither did Maimonides claim any divine inspiration nor, contrary to Shinran, did he back up his claims by directly referring to the thinkers before him. In his introduction to the third part of his magnum opus titled Guide for the Perplexed, Maimonides writes: “I followed conjectures and supposition; no divine revelation has come to me to teach me that the intention in the matter in question was such and such, nor did I receive what I believe in these matters from a teacher.”114
Maimonides’ Guide for the Perplexed (GP), was written entirely in Egypt between 1185 and 1190. The term “perplexed” connotes those who hesitate between the conflicting claims of philosophy and religion.115 In this work, Maimonides sought to help those “perplexed” to integrate religion and philosophy: to achieve a full knowledge of philosophical truths without giving up the observance of religious commandments.116 In GP I: 71, Maimonides spells out the components of his own philosophy in relation to the Jewish heritage, both biblical and Talmudic. Being well versed in Islamic philosophy and theology, Maimonides positions himself against the approach exercised by the Islamic theologians. In addition to objecting to the anti-philosophical position of the Kalām theologians,117 one of his other major objections is the mutakallimūn118 articulation of imagination since, in his view, they mistake imagination for intellect: “follow the imagination and call it intellect.”119 Instead Maimonides argues for a “demonstrative method as to which there is no disagreement in any respect.”120 Maimonides’ skeptical approach to imagination testifies to Aristotle’s influence. Imagination more closely relates to sense perception than to abstract thinking.121 Maimonides’ approach to imagination has no analogy in Shinran’s thought since Maimonides aims to prevent the occurrence of anthropomorphism.122 Maimonides’ discomfort with any occurrence of anthropomorphism leads him to link imagination to “the evil impulse.”123 since it can result in perceiving Separate Intellect (angels) as having bodies. Yet, Maimonides straddles between Aristotelian skepticism124 and a more positive outlook of imagination. He exhibits a slightly less skeptical approach when he discusses imagination in relation to prophecy. In that discussion, Maimonides relates imagination to the political reason as an important component of prophecy, which we will address in the subsequent part of this chapter, but first, we turn to Maimonides’ view of God.
Maimonides’ Views of God
Whereas Shinran’s views cannot be discussed outside of his view