Ignaz Goldziher as a Jewish Orientalist: Traditional Learning, Critical Scholarship, and Personal Piety 9783110740103, 9783110741285, 9783110741575

Citation preview

Tamás Turán Ignaz Goldziher as a Jewish Orientalist

Europäisch-jüdische Studien Beiträge European-Jewish Studies Contributions On Behalf of the Moses Mendelssohn Center for European-Jewish Studies, Potsdam Edited by Miriam Rürup and Werner Treß

Volume 55

Tamás Turán

Ignaz Goldziher as a Jewish Orientalist Traditional Learning, Critical Scholarship, and Personal Piety

ISBN 978-3-11-074010-3 e-ISBN (PDF) 978-3-11-074128-5 e-ISBN (EPUB) 978-3-11-074157-5 ISSN 2192-9602 DOI https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285 Library of Congress Control Number: 2022919491 Bibliographic information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data are available in the Internet at http://dnb.dnb.de © 2023 Walter de Gruyter GmbH, Berlin/Boston Printing and binding: CPI books GmbH, Leck Cover image: Psalms 135:1–3 (for liturgical use), with Saadia Gaonʼs interlinear Arabic translation – a Genizah-fragment. Courtesy of the Library and Information Centre of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, Oriental collection, Kaufmann A 422a.

www.degruyter.com

Preface In their original formulations and settings, religious and scholarly traditions often have local backgrounds, determinants, and colors. In his works Goldziher extensively discussed the merits accorded in early Islam to travelling, even to remote places, in search of traditions and “rescuing” them.¹ According to Talmudic tradition, when R. Yohanan, the great third-century rabbi in the Holy Land, happened to be in Parod, he did not miss the opportunity to inquire about traditions transmitted by Bar Qappara, a local sage of a previous generation. Fruits do not fall far from the tree; if anyone, fellow townsmen are supposed to preserve those local traditions.² Apples from the trees of Judaic and Islamic knowledge, planted and cultivated by Ignaz Goldziher and his contemporaries in Hungary, rolled far and wide— and this is why traveling back to find these trees, or at least their trunks or roots, may be interesting. This was my purpose when I started this research, upon realizing that there is much to correct, nuance and add to what is known about the Hungarian, Jewish, and Hungarian Jewish contexts and roots of Goldziher’s life and work. I had the privilege to learn from great scholars from all walks of Jewish and academic life in Hungary and elsewhere, who grew out of the same Hungarian soil. Born two, three, or four generations after Goldziher, they still faced historical, religious, and academic predicaments which were in many respects similar to those he had to cope with. The interplay between religious “habitus” and academic ethos in their careers still produced patterns that are not unlike those that we know from Goldziher’s world. I wish to dedicate this book to the memory of one of them, my father, Pál Turán, ‫יוסף בן דב ז"ל‬. The idea for this book originates from a conference presentation given in 2012, and it is an outgrowth of a paper published in the conference volume.³ The book largely follows the structure of the paper and expands upon its central themes and theses. When I started working on this book (in late 2020) I hoped it would be published in 2021, on the centenary of Goldziher’s death, to be laid as a pebble on his gravestone. This could not happen, but gravestones wait patiently.

 Jelentés a M. T. Akadémia könyvtára számára keletről hozott könyvekről, 79 (Mestyan, “Ignác Goldziher’s Report on the Books,” 461); “Muhammedán utazókról,” 120 – 121; Muh. St., II, 175 – 186.  bAvoda zarah 31a, R. Yohanan interpreting Kohelet 11:3.  On the conference, see Turán and Wilke, “Wissenschaft des Judentums in Hungary,” 31. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285-001

Contents Abbreviations and Transcription

IX

I

Introduction 1 Two Life Résumés 1 7 The First Cadre of Jewish Talent in Hungarian Humanities Fleeing from God to God: the Purposes of this Book 12 Academic Religion 24 On Goldziherology—Sources, Achievements, Approaches 27

II

Historical and Academic Milieu 36 Historical Situation of Hungarian Jews 36 41 Apostasy and Academic Promotion Hungarian Orientalism 46 Hungarian Jewish (Orientalist) Scholarship in Goldziher’s Times 58 Goldziher’s Afterlife and Impact in Hungary

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception 64 The Diary Sense of Superiority 72 The Powers That Be 74 Estrangement from Jewish Scholarship

63

85

100 IV Between Education and Scholarship On Biblical Scholarship 103 Academic Scholarship and the Responsibilities of Scholars Educational Ideas 109 The “Platform” of the Budapest Rabbinical Seminary 114 V

119 Between Islamic and Jewish Law The Politics of Comparativism 122 Consensus (Ijmā‛) 126 Hadith-criticism as Talmud-criticism? Mysticism as a Remedy for Legalism

54

107

133 134

138 VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography Science of Religion—and Commitment to Religious Progress 140 Semitism 146

VIII

Contents

Prophetism—and Nationalism Versus Cosmopolitanism 152 Blessing and Curse Westernization in the Near East 154 Religion, People, or Culture? 159 169 VII Between Tradition and Reform Reform à la Goldziher in Islam and Judaism Timely Jewish Theology (Abraham Geiger) Scienza Nuova (Leopold Löw) 192 Liberal Protestantism (Mór Ballagi) 196 198 Applied Theology Prophetism Versus the Dead Letter 200 VIII Personal-professional Relationships: a Sample Ármin Vámbéry 203 Mór Kármán 206 210 Immanuel Löw Martin Schreiner 213 Bernát Munkácsi and Ignác Kúnos 215

149

169 186

202

221 IX Goldziher as a Jew Religious Profile 222 Una Veritas 229 233 Loyalty Conclusion

237

Appendices 243 I The Main Venues of Goldziher’s Life in Budapest 243 II Goldziher’s Will 243 III On Scheiber’s Edition of Goldziher’s Diary 247 IV Immanuel Löw’s Letter to Goldziher, October 6, 1889 250 V Goldziher’s Letter to David Simonsen (Copenhagen), April 15, 1913 253 Bibliography Images Index

283 287

255

Abbreviations and Transcription The following abbreviations will be used for Goldziher’s works: T OrD

Ignaz Goldziher, Tagebuch, ed. Alexander Scheiber (Leiden: Brill, 1978); Raphael Patai, Ignaz Goldziher and His Oriental Diary: A Translation and Psychological Portrait (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1987); GS Ignaz Goldziher, Gesammelte Schriften, hrsg. von Joseph DeSomogyi, 6 vols (Hildesheim: Olms, 1967– 1973); Muh. St. Ignaz Goldziher, Muhammedanische Studien, 2 vols (Halle: Niemeyer, 1888 – 1890).

Most of Goldziher’s Hungarian papers will be cited according to two collections of his republished studies:⁴ MésJ Ignác Goldziher, A zsidóság lényege és fejlődése [The Essence and Evolution of Judaism], eds. János Kőbányai and József Zsengellér (Budapest: Múlt és Jövő, 2000); AésI Ignác Goldziher, Az arabok és az iszlám / The Arabs and Islam, ed. István Ormos, 2 vols (Budapest: Magyar Tudományos Akadémia Könyvtára – Kőrösi Csoma Társaság, 1995).

I will use below simple forms in the transcription of some Arabic and Hebrew names and terms without diacritical signs (except bibliographic references); notably, Quran stands for Qurʾān, Muhammad for Muḥammad, Hadith for Ḥ adīth/ Ḥ adīṯ, Shiite for Shīʿīte, Shulchan Arukh for Shulḥan ʿarukh. I will refer to the Babylonian Talmud by a prefixed “b” and to the Mishnah by a prefixed “m,” before the name of the tractate.

 Most of this book was written prior to the digitization of Goldziher’s works (by the Library and Information Centre of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences), when it seemed to be advisable to use the mentioned readily available republications. For similar reasons I preferred to use the new edition of Goldziher’s book Az iszlám (1980), despite the fact that it is a problematic re-edition in which Goldziher’s footnotes have been re-written. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285-002

I Introduction Two Life Résumés Ignaz/Ignác Goldziher (born in Székesfehérvár, Hungary, June 22, 1850; died in Budapest, November 13, 1921⁵), a Hungarian Jewish Orientalist, was a highly acclaimed scholar of Islam and Arabic language and literature. He made significant contributions to other fields as well, most notably to Jewish studies—particularly concerning Judeo-Arabic literature. Here are some basic facts about Goldziher’s family background, studies, and career. Most of the data presented below are collected from Goldziher’s main diary⁶ (in what follows “diary” in the singular refers to his Tagebuch, not to be confused with his Oriental Diary). Many of Goldziher’s ancestors were of Sephardic origin.⁷ One of Goldziher’s great-great grandfathers (of Sephardic descent), immigrated to Hungary from Hamburg in 1735. Goldziher’s father (Adolf Goldzieher,⁸ 1811– 1874) was a leather merchant—a profession that had run in the family for generations.⁹ Two of his sons (Goldziher’s brothers) born from his marriage with Katalin Berger (Goldziher’s mother; 1814– 1884) died in early childhood, before Ignaz was born. Ignaz also had a younger sister (Maria; 1852– 1884).¹⁰

 Older literature sometimes gives the date of Goldziher’s death erroneously as November 12 or 21. The correct date is confirmed by his tombstone and a detailed account of his last days by his physician. He died of pneumonia. See [Anon.], “A nagy gyász körül,” 6. His annual memorial day (Jahrzeit) according to the Jewish calendar is Heshvan 12 (5682). His funeral was held on November 15 (Tuesday), two days after his death. Scheiber (“Goldziher Ignác,” 1078; idem, “Előszó,” 11) mistakenly gives the date as December 15.  Goldziher, Tagebuch. Further details and interpretations of biographic facts can be found in Ch. III. and elsewhere scattered throughout the book.  On the maternal side Goldziher was almost certainly a descendant of Spanish-Portuguese crypto-Jews (Marranos) who fled from the persecutions of Jews (and crypto-Jews) from the Iberian Peninsula in the fifteenth to seventeenth centuries. This was possibly the case on his paternal side as well. See Büchler, “A Goldziherék családfájáról,” 336 – 338. Cf. also Ormos, “Goldziher’s Mother Tongue,” 240, n. 173.  In his family it was apparently Ignaz Goldziher who first consistently used the spelling “Goldziher” for his family name; he considered this form (and not the spelling “Goldzieher”) to be the original one—see his letter to Nöldeke: Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 345 (the Hebrew spelling reproduced there is erroneous). His ancestors’ names appear in a variety of other forms in Hungarian documents—Harmat, “Goldziher Ignác gyermekkora,” 124, n. 16.  Büchler, “A Goldziherék családfájáról,” 20, 82.  On the siblings, see Harmat, “Goldziher Ignác gyermekkora,” 116. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285-003

2

I Introduction

Goldziher’s father provided his son with a thorough—quite traditionalist— Jewish education, as well as strict and serious ethico-religious instruction with the help of a private tutor for four years, between 1861 and 1865. He also attended a Catholic (Cistercian) Gymnasium between 1860 and 1865 as a private student for the first three school years of this period. The father decided to move his family to Pest in 1865, mainly for businessrelated reasons, and for the rest of his life Ignaz Goldziher lived there. Parallel to his high school studies,¹¹ after obtaining a special student status in 1865, he started to study Turkish and Persian with Ármin (Arminius) Vámbéry (1832– 1913), a then freshly appointed lecturer of oriental subjects at the University of Pest. Upon the recommendation of Goldziher’s mentors, Minister of Religion and Education Baron József Eötvös gave him a stipend to pursue oriental (Semitic) studies in Germany, with the prospect of an appointment to a university chair at the University of Pest after the successful completion of his studies (T 33 – 34, 40). Goldziher studied at the university of Berlin and Leipzig between 1868 and 1870, earning his doctorate under Heinrich Leberecht Fleischer at the latter institution in 1870.¹² After the death of Eötvös in early 1871, his protégés grew gravely concerned about their futures. Nevertheless, Goldziher was able to continue his studies in Leiden and Vienna in the following year. Unable to secure a professorship at the University of Pest, he had to settle for being accepted at that university as a non-tenured lecturer (Privatdozent) of Semitic philology in late 1871 (T 51).¹³ Successors of Eötvös granted the brilliant young Goldziher further stipends (e. g., for a Near Eastern study tour and to learn contemporary Arabic for diplomatic purposes). Accepting these offers, Goldziher travelled throughout Turkey, Lebanon, Syria, Palestine, and Egypt—spending most of his time in Damascus and Cairo—between mid-September 1873 and early March 1874. Eventually, his father’s ailing health forced him to end his journey early and return to Pest.

 In Pest, Goldziher continued his high school studies at the Gymnasium of the Reformed (Calvinist) Church. Due to encephalitis in summer 1867, he had to postpone his graduation, and graduated in spring 1868 (T 30).  For an account of Goldziher’s Bildung and early studies, particularly language studies, see Hopkins, “The Language Studies of Ignaz Goldziher,” 89 – 96.  Kovács, ed., Diszkrimináció, 61. Elsewhere Goldziher dates this appointment to 1872 (T 182; August 21, 1894); Heller (“Goldziher Ignác,” 8) and other biographic literature does the same. It seems there is no contradiction; the earlier date marks the university decision and the later date marks its approval by the minister. Goldziher in the diary (ibid.) registers that he was the first such Jewish non-tenured lecturer (Privatdozent) at the Faculty of Humanities. He was probably correct, and I erred (“Academic Religion,” 224, n. 5; relying on Komlós’s imprecise information). On the historical variations of the appointment-procedures, rights, and obligations of non-tenured lecturers in Hungary, see Bíró, Magántanárok a pesti Tudományegyetemen.

Two Life Résumés

3

The return to Pest (which in the meantime had unified with Buda and Óbuda to form Budapest in 1873) was an anticlimax—not only because his father died, but also because the university chair promised to him was given to a different, much less qualified person.¹⁴ Upon political (ultimately Austrian) pressure, in early 1875 Minister of Religion and Education Ágoston Trefort made an abortive attempt to secure at least a non-ordinary professorship for Goldziher (T 77– 78).¹⁵ Despite Eötvös’ success to declare Pest University as a non-denominational institution after the so-called “Compromise” between Austria and Hungary (1867), the university remained a de facto conservative Catholic institution until 1894 – 1895; subsequently in 1895 Judaism became a “received religion.” Until then there had been strong opposition at various universities to appoint a Jew to professorship, ordinary or other. Without a university position in Pest, and after rejecting offers from Vienna and elsewhere, in 1875 Goldziher accepted the position of the Chief Secretary of the Neolog Jewish community of Pest, which he filled for almost three decades beginning in 1876 (T 81).¹⁶ This position was a source of unending frustration (he calls it “humiliation”) for him. It was only a partial compensation for him

 Cf. Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 49 – 51. Péter Hatala (1832– 1918), a Catholic priest and a professor at the Faculty of Theology, was transferred to the Faculty of Humanities due to dogmatic problems (he spoke against papal infallibility), and was appointed Professor of Semitic languages at the university in 1874. Later in the same year he converted to Unitarianism.  According to a slightly different account (published still in Goldziher’s lifetime: [Anon.], “Goldziher Ignác dr. élete és működése,” 11) of the background of this attempt, Gyula Andrássy, Minister of Foreign Affairs of Austria-Hungary at that time, received complaints or sarcastic remarks from the Austrian counterpart of Trefort, Minister Karl Ritter von Stremayr, concerning Hungary’s failure to offer a proper academic position for a scholar of Goldziher’s stature—a situation which he tried to amend allegedly by offering Goldziher the vacant chair of Semitic languages at the University of Vienna. The invitation of the incumbent of that chair, Eduard Sachau to fill a similar position at Berlin University (which Sachau accepted) was dated November 12, 1875 (Mangold, Eine “weltbürgerliche Wissenschaft,” 228, n. 1195), and the possibility can not be excluded that a search for his successor in Vienna started already in late 1874 or early 1875, and such an offer was on Goldziher’s table when he met Trefort on January 16, 1875. There is a similar anecdote about the great Jewish mathematician Lipót Fejér, who received full professorship at the University of Pest in 1911 (or according to some versions, at the University of Kolozsvár [today Cluj, [Romania] in the same year), as a result (partly at least) of similar comments made by the famous French mathematician Henri Poincaré when he visited Hungary. This anecdote was part of Hungarian intellectual folklore in the 20th century; see Scheiber, “Alte Geschichten in neuem Gewande,” 92.  Heller (“Goldziher Ignác,” 8) mistakenly gives 1874 as the starting point of his work at the Jewish community. His error is inherited by Scheiber, “Goldziher Ignác” (in Goldziher Ignác, Az iszlám kultúrája), 1073; idem, “Előszó,” 9; Kovács, ed., Diszkrimináció, 61; and Turán, “Academic Religion,” 225.

4

I Introduction

that in the same year he was elected as a corresponding member of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences (he was eventually elected as an ordinary member in 1892). His controversial Der Mythos bei den Hebräern und seine geschichtliche Entwickelung appeared later that year (1876), and the Rabbinical Seminary in Budapest opened the following year. Goldziher was among the candidates for the two available (salaried) teaching positions there,¹⁷ but to his regret, others (Wilhelm Bacher and David Kaufmann) were selected (T 86 – 87). In 1900, filling a position left vacant by the death of Kaufmann, he was invited to teach religious philosophy at the Rabbinical Seminary as a lecturer, a position that he filled until the end of his life. After 30 years of waiting and only after the position’s incumbent had retired, Goldziher finally became a full (and salaried) professor of Semitic philology at the University of Budapest in early 1905.¹⁸ He was more than happy to leave his position in the Jewish community a few months later (T 240 – 241; 305, New Year 1918). Only his new university appointment could satisfy and liberate him, at least partially, from the mentioned disappointments and frustrations. Goldziher was later invited to prestigious professorships abroad (including in Heidelberg, Strassburg, and Cambridge) but accepted none of the offers and remained in Hungary. He moved to Holló (Raven) Street 4 in late 1881 or early 1882,¹⁹ and never moved out of this apartment (located close to the south-west-

 A senior rabbinic scholar had to be selected as Rector of the Seminary—this was Moses Bloch (1815 – 1909).  Kovács, ed., Diszkrimináció, 60. The date indicates the royal decision, which was the final stage of the appointment process. Literature often gives 1904 as the date of his appointment, reflecting, apparently, the date of the university resolution (to be submitted to the minister for approval) or of the ministerial approval itself. In 1894 Goldziher was appointed honorary ordinary professor at Budapest University (“címmel és jelleggel, nyilvános rendes tanár”); Loránd Eötvös (a physicist, son of József Eötvös), Minister of Religion and Education at that time, was instrumental in this promotion, acting in the spirit of his father. (The university, today named Eötvös Loránd University, was named after him in 1950). This was an unsalaried position, yet it meant that Goldziher became the first Jew (of the Jewish faith) at the Faculty of Humanities to become a full member, enjoying the same rights as full professors (T 173 – 174, July 5, 1894; T 182, August 21, 1894); Kovács, ed., Diszkrimináció, 61; idem, “Diszkriminációtól diszkriminációig,” 172.  Immanuel Löw, in his commemorative oration on Goldziher held on December 10, 1921 (according to the date given in the contents of the book publishing his orations; if this date is correct, it was the twenty-fifth day after the funeral), in the apartment of the deceased (“Goldziher Ignác,” 307– 308), stated that Goldziher lived there for 40 years. He referred to a letter written to him by Goldziher, dated November 1, 1881. Löw did not provide further details, and the letter’s current location is unknown. The earliest letter I found where Holló Street/ Rabengasse is given

Two Life Résumés

5

ern corner of what would become the Jewish ghetto in 1944²⁰), even after he gave up his community position and became a full (and salaried) professor in 1905. Socio-geographically, this location was far from neighborhoods where university faculty—including his Jewish colleagues—lived.²¹ Like his friend and neighbor, Chief Rabbi Samuel Kohn, he rented an apartment in a building there (Holló Str. 4) owned by the Neolog Jewish community of Pest. Part of the building functioned as a Jewish orphanage. The rent itself was probably reasonably low, but an additional, major advantage for him may have been its location. The Neolog community headquarters (on the edge of a neighborhood heavily populated by Orthodox Jews) and the university at which he taught were both within walking distance and could be reached in 5 – 10 minutes.²² An alternative life résumé, more subjective and less conventional than the career orientated one outlined above, can be assembled from the emotional focal points in the diary. The line of events in these two brief life narratives are of course not entirely disjunct. His childhood education and his confirmation (bar-mitzvah) ceremony at the age of 13 were a constant source of pride and satisfaction for Goldziher. He cherished the memory of his private tutor (Moses Wolf Freudenberg) throughout his life (the vivid, emotional and dignified account of these early Jewish educational experiences [T 17– 21] is one of the most instructive and valuable parts of his diary). Minister Eötvös’ eye for talent, attention, and support gave Goldziher (as a teenager) the critical impulse to start his academic career. Goldziher recorded his fond memories of his productive years of studies in Germany, and especially his euphoric months working with Arabic manuscripts in Leiden, which provided him with research material for decades to come. Having finished his doctorate, he went on a Near Eastern study tour on a state stipend. Damascus and Cairo were the highlights of this tour, which he called “the most wonderful period of [his] life” (T 73 – 74). He recorded with much frustration the insincere behaviour of Eötvös’s successors towards him and their lack of help in securing the professorship promised to him by Eötvös. As a consequence, he had to accept a position (albeit

as Goldziher’s address is William Wickes’ letter to Goldziher (GIL/46/37/01) from May 8, 1882. Goldziher reportedly said in March 1920 that he had lived in the house (as Samuel Kohn had) for 40 years: [Anon.], “A nagy gyász körül,” 6.  See the map in Appendix I, and the map in Frojimovics et al., Jewish Budapest, 413.  For decades before Goldziher moved to this apartment (in the early 1880s), and after he died, Holló Street was a street of goldsmiths and jewellers.  The Faculty of the Humanities of Budapest University moved from Egyetem (University) Square to Múzeum (Múzeum) Boulevard in 1911.

6

I Introduction

high-ranking) within the Pest Jewish community. He considered this employment and the fact that “the Jews wanted to have mercy” on him (by this employment) as the “catastrophe” and “misfortune of [his] life” (T 79, 81). His harsh complaints about his superiors, colleagues, and the whole atmosphere within the community fill the pages of the Diary.²³ The loss of both his beloved sister and his mother in the same year (1884; T 80, 101– 102), as well as other family tragedies such as the death of his daughter-in-law whom he adored (1918; T 311),²⁴ were terribly heartbreaking for him. One of his two sons, Miksa, for unclear reasons committed suicide in 1900.²⁵ A crisis ensued; Goldziher wrote his will about a year later.²⁶ Academic successes, including his well-received two-volume work Muhammedanische Studien (1888 – 1890), a prize awarded to him by the king of Sweden in 1890, and other honors and invitations, counterbalanced his family miseries and social frustrations. In 1891 he records with delight that his “scholarly drive does not rest” in him and resists his apathy. Nonetheless—he continues—“I wrote and published all my books and articles in the mood of unnameable pressure, under the most horrific humiliations and amidst family troubles and sufferings. Public appreciation of my accomplishments always fell as dewdrops on an agitated mind and a distressed soul” (T 128; September 1891). In later times too, professional achievements brought him only temporary relief from his generally gloomy mood. Another constant source of relief and consolation for him, although interrupted by periods of anxiety and depression, was his personal interactions—at international conferences and through personal visits and correspondence— with numerous colleagues abroad with whom he was on friendly terms. These important relationships, as well as his worldview, hopes, and ideals, were shattered by growing antisemitism, and especially by World War I.²⁷ The last entry in the diary (T 313), dated September 1, 1919, is written with a sense of desperation

 Although his “serfdom” as a community official lasted from 1876 (when he assumed the job at the Community) until 1905, at one place in the diary (T 274; Dec. 31, 1912) he limits the “horrors” of his life to the period 1876 – 1895. For an explanation, see Ch. IX, “Religious profile.”  Her name was Maria Freudenberg, and it seems she was not a relative of Goldziher’s tutor, Moses Wolf Freudenberg.  See n. 923 in Appendix II. The page on which Goldziher related to this event may have been removed from, or torn out of, the diary; see n. 934 in Appendix III.  See Appendix II.  Goldziher, “Válasz ‘A háború és a tudósok szolidaritása’ körkérdésre.” On his uneasy neutrality in the war-related conflict between his friends Carl Heinrich Becker and Christiaan Snouck Hurgronje (both of whom complained about the other to him), see Engberts, “Orientalists at War.”

The First Cadre of Jewish Talent in Hungarian Humanities

7

(illnesses, antisemitism) and of momentary contentment, recording the progress in the printing of what would be his last book, Die Richtungen der islamische Koranauslegung (1920).

The First Cadre of Jewish Talent in Hungarian Humanities Minister József Eötvös was a patron of promising young Jewish intellectuals; the most important among them in humanities were Vámbéry, Mór Kármán (pedagogy), and Goldziher. Eötvös was instrumental in launching Vámbéry’s career.²⁸ He envisioned creating new university positions and filling them with promising and competent young scholars, so he also provided stipends for Kármán and Goldziher, to enable them to study at German universities. Other talented young Jewish fellows—Bernát Alexander (philosophy), József Bánóczi (philosophy, history of literature), Henrik Marczali (history), and Zsigmond Simonyi (Hungarian linguistics)—were encouraged and helped by their liberal teachers at the university, and Eötvös’ successors.²⁹ These seven were all Goldziher’s contemporaries (except Vámbéry, who was older), started their higher education in Eötvös’ lifetime and under his ministerial tenure,³⁰ and finished it when Eötvös’ liberal spirit was still influential. Therefore, for the sake of brevity, and in acknowledgement of his emblematic role, I will refer to this group below also as “the Eötvös cohort” or “the Eötvös group.” This coterie of talented young Jewish scholars emerging in the post-Compromise era in humanities, who filled a vacuum in their respective fields, is a central reference group in the present book for discussing Goldziher’s career and outlook, and its members will be mentioned often. Here it is relevant to discuss only the social profile of this group as a group, and peculiarities of Goldziher’s position within it. Doors of academia were at

 In 1857 Eötvös helped him to sponsor his first trip to the East—Mandler, Arminius Vambéry, 14.  I thank Professor Iván Zoltán Dénes and Dr. Péter Turbucz for their comments on this matter. Komlós (“Zsidók a magyar tudományban a kiegyezés után,” 205) and, in his footsteps, Simon (Goldziher Ignác, 209) mistakenly stated that (similar to Kármán and Goldziher) it was Eötvös who sent the mentioned four abroad to study.  Alexander and Bánóczi (close friends) submitted to Eötvös personally their application for a special permission to attend the university before finishing their high school graduation, and Eötvös himself signed the permission: Alexander, “Bánóczi József,” 7– 8. Marczali finished his high school graduation when he was fourteen years old (!) and started his university studies in the 1870 Autumn semester. Simonyi started his university studies apparently in the 1871 Autumn semester, half a year after Eötvös’s death in February 1871.

8

I Introduction

least ajar if not fully open for these young Jewish fellows. There were prices to pay, for social pressures of various degrees. They relatively easily and often eagerly adapted to all of the formalities and demeanors of non-Jewish society and to academic standards that were alien to their upbringing. They could not overcome negative prejudices based upon their Jewishness, and these prejudices harmed their careers one way or another. They were under heavy social pressure to convert to Christianity; the mere idea of conversion was demeaning to most of them, and only two were ready to pay this price. Yet in the eyes of these Jewish talents who were anxious to leave the “ghetto,” all of the social woes and adversities were dwarfed by the honor of the “invitation” itself from the highest circles and the opportunity given to them to contribute to society at large. Members of the Eötvös group swiftly embarked on splendid careers. Their spirited life’s work was sustained by the recognition that in pursuing their respective academic fields they were stepping almost onto terra incognita, virtually unexplored territory, in the culture of their home country. They all had a strong sense of purpose and were extremely hard-working; some of them, including Goldziher himself, would today be called “workaholics.”³¹ It has been observed (in the context of careers of Jewish scientists in Germany) that the relatively liberal post-emancipation social ambiance combined with “residual” anti-Jewish prejudices was particularly conducive to competitiveness, excellence, and overachievement for Jews, among them Jewish scholars (and scholars of Jewish descent).³² Young Jewish academics had to prove themselves to non-Jewish friends and foes alike. Their position within Jewish society at large (which went through a fairly rapid disintegration process in Western and Central Europe as a result of social and cultural progress), and often within their own extended families, was no less precarious. Their career-related steps were liable to be labelled, in more traditionalist Jewish circles as well as by many of their Jewish peers, as a betrayal—or reckless opportunism at best. With suspicion coming from nearly every direction, the social standing of post-emancipation Jewish intellectuals was often described as a sort of marginality. The liminal and fragile social position of acculturating-assimilating Jews, in Hungary as elsewhere, created tensions in their lives and at the same time contributed to professional achievements and creativity in various ways. This predicament was amply analyzed and illustrated by historians on intellectuals such as Heine and Marx, Freud, Mahler, Einstein, and Kafka, who were iconoclasts and

 Cf. Grunfeld, Prophets Without Honour, 9 – 14, characterizing late nineteenth-century German and Austrian Jewish intellectuals (mostly literary figures and artists) in a similar vein.  Stern, Einstein’s German World, 32– 33.

The First Cadre of Jewish Talent in Hungarian Humanities

9

became themselves cultural icons. However, members of the Eötvös group do not fit neatly into this pattern. To a certain extent, the group was unique and probably unparalleled in Europe from a sociological point of view. Thus before we lump the group (or Goldziher alone) into a loosely defined category of “modern Jewish intellectuals,” “marginal Jews,” or “non-Jewish” Jews³³ (not only a large number of German, Austrian, and other Jewish intellectuals and intellectuals of Jewish descent would qualify for these categories in those times, but also an increasing number of Hungarian Jewish intellectuals), we should take note of some significant dissimilarities between these groups and the Eötvös group. Some of the disparities listed below are a function of one basic difference: Jewish intellectuals put by historians under the heading of “marginal Jews” etc. were mostly non-academics, while the Eötvös cohort comprised academics (professors in higher education). And institutions of higher education were relatively conservative institutions as such in those times. Members of the Eötvös group stood at less advanced stages of the transgenerational Jewish acculturation processes than their contemporary Jewish peers in Germany and Austria. In their general political outlook, the Eötvös cohort consisted of conservative liberals—unlike most of the modern Jewish intellectuals in Germany and Austria who tended to be progressive liberals. Unlike the German and Austrian groups, most members of the Eötvös cohort (above all those who did not convert like Vámbéry and Simonyi) were “Jewish Jews”: they kept and built quite strong social and professional bonds to the local Jewish community and its institutions, and did not entirely alienate themselves from religious observance. Instead of a cosmopolitan or loose lifestyle and a modernist cultural-aesthetic taste, they rather had place-bound, stationary careers, conservative family lives, and similar cultural preferences.³⁴ Due to special historical circumstances, members of the Eötvös group were “optimists”³⁵ (until World War I); they had every reason to think (for most of their careers) that they were given an important, honorable, and “equal” role in rebuilding and defining Hungarian cultural identity. Such a sense of mission for Jews was adequate in post-emancipation Hungary more than in Germany or Austria. In sum, it is fair to say that while modern German and Austrian Jewish intellectuals, i. e. “margin-

 For different approaches in conceiving these groups, see Mendes-Flohr, “The Study of the Jewish Intellectual.”  For Goldziher, see his extended comments (T 175; July 21, 1894) on a modern art exhibition that he attended in Munich.  Cf. McCagg, Jewish Nobles and Geniuses, 160 – 163, and especially remarks by Franz Alexander and Theodor von Kármán, sons of members of the Eötvös group—who emigrated from Hungary and became renown scientists of their own right—on their fathers’ outlook.

10

I Introduction

al Jews,” in the last decades of the nineteenth century typically identified strongly with their progressive non-Jewish cultural environment and were alienated from their Jewish roots, members of the Eötvös group concocted a formula of positive Jewish and Hungarian identities around conservative liberal values. At the core of the drama that unfolds in Goldziher’s diary, we find the tribulations of a scholar with outstanding contributions to general scholarship, whose main affiliation (or at least, livelihood) for most of his life was with a non-academic Jewish institution only loosely related (if at all) to his field of study or to scholarship in general. As the examples of József Bánóczi (1849 – 1926; member of the Eötvös group), Heymann Steinthal (1823 – 1899), and Bernát Munkácsi (1860 – 1937), three figures woven into Goldziher’s biography, show, this bifocal social setting itself, frustrating as it was in some cases and stimulating in others, was neither unparalleled among Central European Jews nor always accompanied by such an excruciating sense of humiliation or “marginality.” We will return to Bánóczi and Munkácsi in several chapters of this book. A few remarks are in place here on Steinthal, who is an important example of this historical matrix, especially due to his impact on Goldziher’s scholarly formation. Steinthal, who with Moritz Lazarus founded ethnopsychology or folk psychology (Völkerpsychologie), became a “non-ordinary” professor of linguistics at Berlin University in 1862. However, in Berlin he could not break the “glass ceiling” by becoming a Jewish full professor in humanities, a ceiling that was broken at Budapest University in 1895, and for Goldziher only in 1905. A proud, liberal Jew with a deep Jewish (particularly Biblical) learning and identity,³⁶ Steinthal had been on the faculty of the Hochschule/Lehranstalt für die Wissenschaft des Judenthums (Higher Institute for Jewish Studies) in Berlin since its founding in 1872.³⁷ However, Goldziher’s objective conditions for scholarly work until 1905 were significantly worse than Steinthal’s. The social troubles and academic disadvantages that an individual scholar faces can be assessed relative to his merits (talents, accomplishments, ambitions), competition, social conditions, and academic policies, among other factors. It is a complicated calculation. Goldziher’s response to his own complex social position was harsh and virulent, and his subjective sense of social inferiority was a constant source of anguish.³⁸ In

 Heller, “Mivel tartozik a zsidóság Steinthal emlékének”; Kalmar, “Steinthal, the Jewish Orientalist”; Mukai, “H. Steinthal.” Readers of especially the last article will notice close similarities between the religious physiognomies of Steinthal and Goldziher.  Klautke, The Mind of the Nation, 15 – 16.  For a comparison with other “marginalized” contemporary Jewish Arabists in Central Europe (their career and views on their career), see the cases of Samuel Landauer or Eduard Glaser; for

The First Cadre of Jewish Talent in Hungarian Humanities

11

order to better understand his response, a number of exceptional circumstances should be taken into account: his early successes in his home country and Eötvös’s ministerial mentorship, which inflated his expectations; the blatant counterselection and related injustice in filling the “Semitic languages” chair at Pest University in 1874; and most importantly his fast-growing international reputation and numerous invitations to fill highly prestigious academic positions abroad (which he declined, one after the other), juxtaposed to his severe time constraints (until 1905) in pursuing scholarship in his home country. In addition to his personal traits and conflicts with the Jewish community, Goldziher’s acute sense of being sidelined and humiliated should be understood in light of this extreme tension between his extraordinary success abroad versus a relative indifference towards him and his complex social status at home. Further individual examples of two-pronged careers in general and Jewish academic, semi-academic, or non-academic institutions can be easily found in Europe, but hardly a group so influenced by government policies and so sociologically coherent as the Eötvös group. To be sure, this group also was far from being homogeneous. Among its members, Goldziher was the odd one out in a number of respects, aside from factors mentioned above. He was the one who had the deepest Jewish learning, commitment and identity among them; he was also the one most discontented with his lot in society (mainly due to his protracted wait for a salaried professorship), the least optimistic, and the most unstable (these traits were apparently interrelated). Nevertheless, under the mentioned circumstances even he was able to maintain for most of his life a viable blend of affirmative Jewish and Hungarian identities, which were built up in his childhood. He had a special place within the Eötvös cohort also with regard to his scholarly coming of age. He was the only one in this group whose academic interests and related cultural activities took a considerable shift—when he largely withdrew (from the late 1880s) from Judaic scholarship, and significantly reduced his cultural activities within the Jewish community due to his conflicts with it.

the latter, see Lichtenstädter, “Eduard Glaser.” A common adversary of Goldziher and Glaser was David Heinrich Müller; T 152 (September 20, 1892), 195 (August 20, 1895), 260 (July 30, 1908).

12

I Introduction

Fleeing from God to God: the Purposes of this Book Holló Street 4, Goldziher’s residence, was located in a neighborhood heavily populated by Jews.³⁹ As a final accord in a glorious, and at the same time tortuous, career, his last honor was his election, in the summer of 1917, as Dean of the Faculty of Humanities of the University of Budapest. Here is a related entry in his diary: In the morning my first official appearance in person in a Hungarian gala outfit⁴⁰ in the Senate. With mourning accessories, of course without jewelry, with mourning sword, etc. Requiem for deceased Queen Elisabeth in the Matthias Church. An officer dressed in a hussar uniform came to pick me up from my apartment. He sat in the driver’s seat, and I rode with him in an open carriage all along Dob Street, guarded by long lines of Polish co-religionists⁴¹ with authentic appearances along the street. I wonder what they thought when they saw my hat trimmed with egret feathers. Surely not that it’s me who is in Golus, more than them.⁴² In any case, I allegedly made a truly respectable Magyar impression.⁴³

Should we take this mention of the “respectable Magyar” impression he made as self-flattery or irony? It is hard to know; maybe both. However, even if the latter was the case, a diary entry shortly thereafter signals that he did not take problems involved in his officiation as a Dean and his decorum lightly: The terrible situation in which I find myself, being Dean is coupled with conscientious scruples, causing me feverish, sleepless nights [unruhige Fieberhafte Nächte]: the relation [of this function] to [interference with] Jewish festivals; participation in the gnostic-neoplatonic, anti-monotheistic ecclesiastic ceremonies of the rulers, in which Deans must participate officially in gala dress. My conscience appeases this scruple [gleicht diesen Skrupel aus] considering (and I do not think this appeasement is a mere sophism) that refraining from all these things would provide permanent proof for the enemies that Jews are incapa-

 See the map, Appendix I. On the house in which Goldziher lived and its neighborhood, see Frojimovics et al., Jewish Budapest, 157 ff, 169.  In the diary: Heldenkostüm. In Hungarian: díszmagyar – the ceremonial costume of Hungarian aristocracy. See Maxwell, Everyday Nationalism in Hungary, 189 – 228.  “Polish” was a standard—derogatory—appellative used by progressive Jews in Central Europe for orthodox and Hasidic Jews of Eastern European origin (“Ostjuden”). In the case of Hungary, most of these Eastern Jews immigrated from Galicia, part of the Habsburg Empire. This appellative, in various forms, is used profusely by Goldziher in his diary.  In the diary: “Golusz”—a Hungarian phonetic transcription of the standard Ashkenazic pronounciation of Hebrew galuth.  T 302 (September 10, 1917); italics in the original. Cf. the similar entry in T 304 (September 30, 1917), and its translation in Frojimovics et al., Jewish Budapest, 171.

Fleeing from God to God: the Purposes of this Book

13

ble of fulfilling governmental functions. The old Haman-argument ‫ודתיהם שונות מכל עם‬. […] But the tormenting disquiet does not leave my soul.⁴⁴

The first passage’s “Joseph in Egypt”-like scene⁴⁵ could serve as the opening shot of a film about our celebrated hero of orientalist scholarship. It captures well Goldziher’s insecurity and ambivalence towards his local Jewish and academic environments. He was part of the Hungarian academic elite and yet loathed its feudal ways, ceremonies, and provincialism; he was alienated from all streams of Hungarian Judaism and yet was attached to them with strong emotional and existential bonds. The second passage (and numerous others) underscores similar qualms and quandaries. His hesitations were rooted not only in a soul prone to anguish, but also in tensions between him and his environment’s social position and values. The historical environment of Goldziher, a Hungarian Jew, was a country within the Habsburg Empire deeply entangled in problems of nationalism, both as a victim and as a perpetrator. The uniqueness of the Hungarian Jewish predicament in the nineteenth century was, above all, defined by a problem of double, enveloped identities and loyalties. How can one be a Jew among Hungarians, and how can one be a Hungarian (Jew) within a multinational empire amidst the nation-building process of the Hungarians, threatened from the outside by Habsburg supremacy and Germanizing influences, and from the inside by ethnic minorities resisting Magyar supremacy and fighting for their own independence? To be a Jew among Hungarians was a social-religious-cultural problem; to be a Hungarian within the Empire was a historical-political-ecclesiastical problem of European proportions. Hungarian Jewry was deeply divided (conservatives versus progressives) on its basic answers to this double problem. Even progressives among themselves could not agree on whether Jewry/Judaism is only a religion or a religion with still significant elements of peoplehood that should be preserved. Goldziher not only felt the above-mentioned problems but in the first 20 – 30 years of his life he also developed unique scholarly competences and approaches to investigate them from unconventional perspectives. His field trip to the Near East exposed him to societies in which group aspirations and interests took precedence over those of individuals, and in which individuals’ interdependence within their social network was much stronger than that of their  T 303 (September 14, 1917); italics in the original. Cf. T 307– 308 (May 28, 1918). The citation is from the Bible: Esther 3:8.  Similar associations were made by other readers of this passage from the diary: Frojimovics et al., Jewish Budapest, 170.

14

I Introduction

counterparts in Europe. These relatively “collectivist” societies offered him an instructive contrast to progressing (and at the same time disintegrating) Jewries in contemporary Central and Western Europe. While Goldziher was ambivalent about these developments in Jewish societies, he was committed to the implementation of timely, progressive changes in Jewish learning in his country as at least a partial remedy. When he realized that his Jewish environment was imperceptive to his ideals and hopes, he retired from these efforts; instead, he found some perspective and scope to similar ideals and hopes in Islam and Islamic studies. He fled from God to God. There is an old prayer-motif in Islam that says that whoever tries to escape, due to divine inflictions, from God, has no choice but to flee to God. While writing an essay tracing variations of this motif and its development,⁴⁶ Goldziher noted in his diary: “‘I flee from you to you’—all this afternoon I am working on a learned essay on this locution. But how much these words are from the bottom of my heart!” (T 170; February 7, 1894). This entry reveals a rarely direct expression of elective “existential” affinities between scholar and his subject matter. European orientalists, such as Hans Heinrich Schaeder (1896 – 1957), recognized early on the significance of Goldziher’s oeuvre for modern European—and particularly Jewish—intellectual history. Commenting on Goldziher’s book Der Mythos bei den Hebräern, Schaeder remarks: “[…] the work possesses exceptional value […] as evidence of Goldziher’s spiritual development. It is a crucial paradigm of the process whose significance can hardly be over-estimated, regarding the way the Jews entered modern European culture. Nevertheless, the unbiased evaluation of the process obviously leaves a lot to be desired.”⁴⁷ It can be safely said that Goldziher’s dual expertise and interest in contemporary religious and political trends in Islam and Judaism, and his personal papers, extraordinary in quality and quantity, make his life story a uniquely interesting chapter in nineteenth century European Jewish intellectual history. Nevertheless, much abstraction, simplification, and self-confidence are needed to describe, as Schaeder and others did, a career, a life story, as a paradigm of broad and variegated historical processes. Throughout his life, Goldziher grappled with controversial developments of modernization in Islam and Judaism. His responses to these challenges were characteristic of his social and academic environment in some respects and very atypical in others. This book tries to ap “Ueber eine rituelle Formel der Muhammedaner.” See also his Die Richtungen der islamische Koranauslegung, 240 – 241.  Schaeder, “[Review of:] Bernard Heller, Bibliographie des oeuvres de Ignace Goldziher,” 118, cited by Simon, Ignaz Goldziher, 83 (translation modified); idem, Goldziher Ignác, 93 – 94, 219.

Fleeing from God to God: the Purposes of this Book

15

proach a more narrowly defined Goldziher phenomenon. Instead of concentrating on general, social processes and/or individual and psychological features, I will tend to explore the particular areas and arenas mediating between the two spheres: his Hungarian and Jewish works and networks, and the interplay between scholarly development, religious outlook, and social milieu in his life and career. Historically too, my frame of reference will be much narrower than the one hinted at in Schaeder’s perceptive remark. Goldziher’s story is explored here as a case study of how Hungarian Jews entered modern humanities, and in particular oriental studies, in Hungary and elsewhere in Europe. If the social liminality or “marginality” of Goldziher was a factor in his achievements as well as in his somewhat belated career, as is the case (with caveats as noted in the previous section), an inner liminality (i. e., an oscillation between, and aloofness from, different intellectual realms) was no less important. Goldziher’s life journey⁴⁸ was his fleeing from God to God. He fled from traditional learning to critical scholarship, and from Judaic to Islamic scholarship. Yet he turned his back on neither his ancestral religion nor Judaic scholarship or his Islamic sympathies.⁴⁹ An oriental Jew and a western Jewish scholar-intellectual, a Jewish pietist and a crypto-Muslim remained entangled in him. The program of nineteenth century European Jewish scholarship on Islam, according to Susannah Heschel’s surveys, was part of an effort to westernize, at least “de-orientalize” Judaism. The goal was to align Judaism (against Christianity) with a rational, culturally open and tolerant religion, as Islam was conceived and portrayed—at least in the context of the Spanish Jewish-Islamic golden age. In order to create such an image, some purging of Islamic history and simplifications in presenting the rich Islamic tradition were of course needed.⁵⁰ Goldziher’s oeuvre only partially fits or confirms this de-orientalization thesis.⁵¹ He readily recruited Islam against Christian dogma, but was not a partner in creating an enlightened-rationalist, reductionist view of Islam. He offered a distinct-

 Cf. Lawrence I. Conrad’s instructive characterization, in a more limited context, of Goldziher’s study tour in the Near East as foreign travel (riḥla), migration (hijra), and pilgrimage (ḥajj) at the same time: “The Pilgrim from Pest.”  For a reflection on his spiritual migrations, see his remark in the diary on his stay in Cairo (1874) in his study tour: “[…] in the Azhar year […] I was more of a Muhammadan casuist than a Western pupil of scholarship” (T 210; February 5, 1897).  Heschel, “German Jewish Scholarship on Islam,” 107; “Orientalist Triangulations,” 149.  Heschel’s evidence for Goldziher as a fitting illustration of her thesis is basically limited to the famous citation from Goldziher’s diary: “My ideal was to elevate Judaism to a similar rational level [as Islam]” (T 59); Heschel, “German Jewish Scholarship on Islam,” 101 (with slightly different translation); “Orientalist Triangulations,” 154. This isolated citation (a private, confidential statement) does not give the whole picture.

16

I Introduction

ly complex and nuanced portrayal of historical Islam that belied the idealized image of the Spanish Jewish “Golden Age”—with a generally highly positive view of Islamic mysticism and a thoroughly critical view of medieval “Western” (including Iberian) Islam, for instance. Moreover, while Goldziher was always ready to defend Islam against criticisms, he himself (as we will see) not infrequently criticized shared tenets of Judaism and Islam from a liberal (essentially liberal Protestant) vantage point. He showed limited interest in comparative Judaic-Islamic studies, and sometimes even took pains to de-emphasize Judaic influences on and similarities with Islam.⁵² And finally, if Goldziher was part of a Jewish intellectual trend to align Judaism with Islam (against Christianity), then this was more of an alignment between a would-be reformed, liberal version of both, than between historical Judaism and historical Islam. For him teleological convergence between Islam and Judaism was at play here no less than a genetic relationship or historical similitude.⁵³ Goldziher’s work was of course also not free from prejudices and predilections. Far from being a typical critical-rationalist philologist and historian, Goldziher as a religious person developed his own liberal version of pietistic mysticism,⁵⁴ which is a key to understanding the central tendencies in his work. His scholarly discussions and assessments in matters of religion are often informed by his own rationalist and pietist religious ideals and assumptions. These ideals and assumptions were rooted partly in nineteenth century intellectual developments (such as Jewish Reform, Protestant theology, and science of religion); partly, however, they harked back to medieval Jewish and Islamic thought, especially pietistic-mystical streams. As for the medieval legacy, his early education and in particular Baḥya ibn Paquda’s eleventh century work Duties of the Heart (titled Ḥovot ha-levavot, in its classic twelfth century Hebrew translation) had formative influences on him. In historical matters his views

 See especially Ch. III (“Estrangement from Jewish Scholarship”), and Ch. V (“The Politics of Comparativism”). Goldziher’s statements in his Vorlesungen, 3, 12– 14 (Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 4– 5 , 13 – 15), where Jewish influences on Islam and Muhammad’s teachings are somewhat pushed into the background rather than highlighted, are more authoritative and representative of his scholarly opinions than his polemic side remarks cited by Heschel (“German Jewish Scholarship on Islam,” 100) such as those from Muh. St., I, 12. Goldziher’s entry “Islam” in the Jewish Encyclopedia was his only publication where he discussed Jewish influences on Islam at some length.  A certain “plebeian” character was one of the important historical-sociological alignments between Islam and Judaism mentioned by Goldziher; see the last section of Ch. VI.  Historians of medieval Jewish thought often pointed out, since Georges Vajda and Alexander Altmann, how unjustified the sharp dichotomy between rationalist philosophy and mysticism is; Wolfson, “Jewish Mysticism,” 452– 453; cf. Tillich, A History of Christian Thought, 286 – 287.

Fleeing from God to God: the Purposes of this Book

17

were infused with the philosophical outlook of a liberal nationalist, nurtured by the contemporary Hungarian political ambiance as well as the Bible. If there was one overarching theme, a leitmotif in Goldziher’s life and work, I think it was religious development and progress (as he understood it) in Islam and Judaism—as a historical quest and a program.⁵⁵ This book explores the dynamics between Goldziher’s traditional learning, critical scholarship, and personal piety in these endeavors, and has three main foci, or directions of investigation: (1) Goldziher’s preconceptions; (2) different “textures” of his works created by his scholarly maturation; and (3) his scholarly ethos and personality. Thus, the first direction of investigation is to uncover Goldziher’s particular set of historical and religious assumptions and to assess how they affected his scholarship. We will look for and identify such preconceptions and motives in a substantial portion of his oeuvre. It will be argued that Goldziher’s understanding of historical and contemporary trends and conflicting forces within Islam was influenced by his experiences and perception of, and position in, the struggle between evolving progressive and conservative platforms in nineteenth century Central-European Judaism. Lifetime achievements of numerous nineteenth-century accultured or assimilated Jewish intellectuals (or intellectuals of Jewish descent), at least from Heinrich Heine (1797– 1856; apparently a distant relative of Goldziher⁵⁶) onwards, are palimpsests. That is, they should be seen as re-used writing material, with writing superimposed upon earlier script that has been scraped or faded away. The task of intellectual “palaeographers” and historians of ideas is not merely to read the overwriting (the modern work) and to decipher the undertext (the “tradition” or cultural legacy) but to reconstruct scraping methods and analyze fading processes that make the overwriting possible, desirable, or necessary.⁵⁷ Goldziher’s life and oeuvre should be seen in fact as a double palimpsest: a traditionalist Hebraic upbringing overlaid by Jewish progressivism (emancipation, religious enlightenment, social progress, humanistic Bildung, science of religion  Speaking about the latter, programmatic aspect of Goldziher’s work I will use the term “reform” throughout the book in a generic sense; however, in contexts where it is important to indicate the differences between Goldziher’s approach and program for religious development and between what Jewish and Islamic reform movements usually represented, other terms such as “renewal” and the like will be used, or “reform” will be put in quotation marks.  Büchler, “A Goldziherék családfájáról,” 338 – 339.  The “palimpsest”-metaphor, which is applicable of course to the historical interpretation of any branch and period of culture, seems to be particularly useful when the two “scripts” and their contents are markedly different relative to the shortness of the time span between them —between the older layer of writing (“tradition”) and its overwriting (the “modern” work)—as it was the case with nineteenth-century out-of-the-ghetto Jewish intellectuals.

18

I Introduction

and Bible scholarship) presented in a Reformist Jewish German script; and on top of these, an exquisite scholarly text is found overwritten in Arabic calligraphy. His mentioned short study on “fleeing from God to God” is a small but representative sample of this double palimpsest. It was written in 1894, when Goldziher already retreated from Jewish scholarship. A historical-philological study, it takes a piece of pious wisdom as its subject matter with which Goldziher probably was acquainted in some of its Jewish parallels at much earlier stages of his life. Such parallels (both ancient and partial, and medieval and full parallels) are not left unmentioned in the article, but they are barely noticeable: the comparative aspect is kept at a minimum.⁵⁸ Reading and interpreting the layers of this double palimpsest—the Goldziher phenomenon—is the second main focus of this book. Inevitably, lacunae in the text of each and every layer will remain, as well as numerous doubtful readings. On the other hand, particular attention will be paid to locate areas where the newer layer almost completely effaces the older layer, and areas where on the contrary we find different, only partly legible, overlapping scripts side by side. That is to say, we will discern two different patterns or “textures” in Goldziher’s intellectual development. One is where his “original” values and ideas are “fully covered,” smoothly transcended by and absorbed in the new ones, and are thus virtually invisible. The other is where the new ideas and values are not able to entirely obscure the old ones which continue to be visible behind the translucent, outermost layer. Key areas of Goldziher’s scholarly outlook offer examples of both patterns. We will observe them in relation to his ambivalent attitude to Jewish collectivity, for example, which is a central theme of this book, running through almost all chapters. We will also discern analogous patterns in his hesitant handling of Jewish-Arabic/Islamic comparative material. The scraping and fading that paved the way for reuse and rewriting in the making of the Goldziher-palimpsest were basically well-known, standard processes driven by the dynamics of Jewish acculturation in modern Europe. These processes, however, produced an uncommon and exceptional result—apparently due to peculiarities of the basic material, the parchment: Goldziher as a person. Faith in the progress of humanity—this well-known compound of converging historiosophic elements of general and Jewish Enlightenment—urged and helped Goldziher to find, at last, Arabic and Islamic studies, which was a niche in historical-philological sciences where he could make meaningful research in rela-

 For a recent discussion of this theme, see Sviri, Perspectives on Early Islamic Mysticism, 220 – 221.

Fleeing from God to God: the Purposes of this Book

19

tive academic serenity. Goldziher’s activist (reformist, if you will) drive and his commitment to bring about and facilitate spiritual-religious progress are ubiquitous in his oeuvre. This impulse proved to be a source of strengths and weaknesses. The exceptional breadth of his interests in Arabic and Islamic culture, as well as his engaging and lively style, for instance, were closely related, it seems, to this drive. On the flip side, his progressivist agenda often induces him in his scholarly works and essays (especially in his Hungarian works⁵⁹) to express his personal views and speak in the polemic-apologetic mode. In his Hungarian book on Islam, for instance, an entire chapter (titled “Fallacies on Islam”) is devoted to an apology of Islam.⁶⁰ Here again the Hebrew “script” shows through the Arabic. The prejudices that he tried to dispel there—the oppression of individual opinions, the rigid conservatism of Islamic law and lore that prevents progress, the disdain of non-Muslims, and legalistic formalism—are all also known from Christian polemics against Judaism: the first two (social-political) accusations since the Enlightenment, and the last two (social-religious) arguments since Antiquity. In fact, Islam itself had been considered a regrettable offshoot of Judaism (a carnal and legalistic Israel reborn) by many Christian critics of Islam since the Middle Ages.⁶¹ And scholarship wrapped in apologetics has its problems and biases. Goldziher’s defense of Islam and its potential for “development,” as well as his analogous arguments concerning traditionalist Judaism, demonstrated the ability of these “religions” to accommodate social needs and external influences, and to make “progress.” Goldziher argued in terms of broad historical processes, and substantiated his claims with detailed case studies, paying unprecedented attention, in the case of Islam, to legal methodology. In his scholarly and popular papers, however, he showed much less interest and concern about religiously, cul-

 As observed by Conrad, “The Pilgrim from Pest,” 111. Therefore, Goldziher’s Hungarian works are important auxiliary tools in interpreting his works in foreign languages, addressed to more academic audiences as a rule.  Az iszlám, 413 – 463.  Akbari, Idols in the East, 205 – 206, 227– 228, 250 – 251, 258 – 259, 273 – 278. For a typical modern example (from 1897), see Socin, “Die Unzulänglichkeit des Islam für christliche Einflüsse,” 390, where he calls Islam “a sort of modified Talmudic Judaism” and “a wilding sprout of Judaism.” Socin was a disciple of H. L. Fleischer, and his successor at Leipzig University; his article was mistakenly attributed to Goldziher by Scheiber, “A Supplementary Bibliography of the Literary Work of Ignace Goldziher,” 422. It seems Goldziher’s cited apologetics for Islam supports to some extent S. Heschel’s thesis and that Goldziher was part of a “de-orientalizing” trend in Jewish scholarship, at least around 1881 when he published the book. See, however, the qualifying remarks above concerning this thesis.

20

I Introduction

turally and politically conditioned factors that forge (encourage or inhibit) the willingness and readiness of religious-social forces and authorities to accommodate and facilitate progress and modernization in a given historical situation. The focus of the present book (similar to the original paper which served as its starting point⁶²) is not biographical in the narrower sense. Yet no discussion of Goldziher’s career and accomplishments can avoid dealing with a number of biographic issues. Instead of providing a comprehensive biography (or intellectual/scholarly biography), I will concentrate on select, central themes that connect his life and scholarship. The biographic issues addressed in the book are particularly related to the religious, academic and political spheres of Goldziher’s social life. There is much hitherto untapped source material relevant to biographic issues (even beyond his correspondences), part of which is utilized in this book. Goldziher’s work–life balance was exceptionally fragile; his biography is fraught with crises from the beginning to the end. Personal and professional relationships were both integral elements of these crises and pallatives for Goldziher. Mirroring this fact, the book has a chiastic structure: four scholarship-oriented chapters in the middle that address focal points of tension in Goldziher’s world-view and professional insights are enveloped by biography-oriented chapters in the beginning and the end. The four focal points of tension are: Goldziher’s views on scholarship and education, in Jewish progressivism in particular (Chapter IV); congruences and incongruences in his approach to Islamic and Jewish law, which provide the systemic tools that make religious progress possible (V); his combination of, or oscillation between, evolutionary historicism and ethnographic-folkloristic approaches to the study of Judaism and Islam—approaches designed to explore religious progress or “reform” as responses to external (historical and religious) challenges (VI); and the sources and complexities of his approach to religious development, theology and the dynamics of “reform” (VII). A look at these tensions will bring us closer to understanding the strained balance between his life and work and his reluctance to become involved in Jewish scholarship in a more substantial way. These four chapters are introduced by backgrounds on Goldziher’s social and academic milieu, Hungarian and Hungarian Jewish orientalism and orientalist scholarship (II), and with a survey of select problems connected to Goldziher’s biography and self-perception (III). The two concluding chapters of this book further discuss personal aspects of his intellectual life, analyzing his relationship to some contemporary scholars who played important roles in

 Turán, “Academic Religion: Goldziher as a Scholar and a Jew.”

Fleeing from God to God: the Purposes of this Book

21

his life and spiritual development (VIII) and characterizing him as a religious individual (IX). A brief overview of some of the main points presented in the six thematic chapters of the book (IV–IX) follows. In Goldziher’s view education is the key to religious development and progress, in Judaism as well as in Islam, and scholars are responsible for spreading up-to-date knowledge of the “science of religion” as well as of other disciplines within society at the appropriate levels. He had few doubts about the superiority of historical sciences and the historical-critical method over “tradition” where the two collide, in Judaism as well as in Islam. His conviction was anchored in an ethical-psychological idea that he highly prioritized: the avoidance of the compartmentalization of religious and rational-scientific persuasions. The primary locus of such dualities was the Bible—the tension between traditional hermeneutics vs. insights of modern Biblical scholarship—although he became aware of the frailty of scientific “evidence” early on in the context of his own research on Biblical myth. His educational views are presented in Chapter IV. Goldziher failed to make a significant impact with his ideas on higher Jewish education, in the curriculum of Neolog rabbinical training. His program for (Neolog) Jewish elementary education, which he oversaw for decades, was more influential. Unlike Jewish education, Goldziher’s university teaching did not entail major ideological problems and conflicts; and (beyond his significant mentoring work for students of the Rabbinical Seminary) it is of interest to us in this chapter only insofar as it reflected the shifts in his scholarly interests. In Chapter V I explore how Goldziher gave Islamic law research a new footing by utilizing its structural similarities with Jewish law and taking advantage of modern research into Jewish law. Nonetheless, he was remarkably reserved about citing Jewish comparative legal material, often suppressing obvious and relevant similarities. “Consensus” (ijmā‛) was a traditional concept in Islamic law that featured prominently in his scholarly works and in his “reform” vision. The significance of this concept becomes clear against the background of Goldziher’s collectivist proclivities, and in light of its partial analogy with a notion that was in vogue in progressive Jewish discourse at the time and widely used by Goldziher in the Jewish context: “the sense of the educated (Jewish) public.” He approached Jewish and Islamic religious law with a predilection for religious inwardness, and (absorbing external Christian animadversion, and Jewish and Islamic mystical-pietistic critiques) a deep aversion to legalistic formalism and legal dialectics, which he regarded as “hairsplitting.” This critical predisposition is noticeable and accentuated particularly in his Jewish writings, in relation to Jewish law. His emotional bias was counterbalanced by a nostalgia for Talmudic learning as a form of worship.

22

I Introduction

Chapter VI discusses how Goldziher wavered between his “etic” and “emic” insider-outsider stances and between his historical-evolutionist and ethnographic approaches. In appraising historical phenomena, he uniformly employed his characteristically Central-European liberal nationalist values and outlook: a cultural notion of national identity (based on language and literature); the right and duty of nations to contribute to human progress by developing their cultures; tolerance and internal pluralism. Yet he did occasionally apply a double standard, by using a historical-evolutionist perspective in assessing religious phenomena in Judaism, and a quasi-ethnographic point of view in assessing Islam. The duality of these approaches, and his fluctuations between “authenticity” and historical progress as values, were related to his ambivalence towards Jewish peoplehood, “racial” theories and ethnopsychology, and his ambiguous attitudes towards Western “imperialism” in the Islamic world. I will try to nuance the characterizations of his positions in this matter which have appeared more recently in scholarship on Goldziher. Chapter VII analyzes Goldziher’s theological stances and “reform” visions. Here, similar to other themes, his value-laden assessments rest on his commitment to liberal rationalism and religious inwardness (as opposed to legalism). Departing from his traditionalist background, he advanced liberal Jewish theological standpoints already at an early age. The chapter traces his main sources in Protestant and Jewish theology. Anti-dogmatism was a central feature of Goldziher’s religious liberalism, yet deanthropomorphism seems to have been a dogma for him for all practical purposes. His plans for the revitalization and modernization of Judaism and Islam were essentially in consonance with each other. The “reform-from-below” approach (to which he subscribed) had inherent problems in both religions. In the spectrum of nineteenth century blueprints for progressive Judaism, Goldziher stood between Abraham Geiger and Zacharias Frankel. He adopted Geiger’s openness to the science and philosophy of religion and his sharp demarcation between “lively” and “dead” traditions. Goldziher’s “collectivist” instinct, his insistence on broad and organic change, however, diverged from Reform Judaism’s voluntarism and brought him closer to Frankel’s “Positive-Historical” Judaism. Chapter VIII deals with personal connections of Goldziher to some of his teachers, friends, colleagues, and disciples in Hungary. There were complexities and ambiguities in most of these important relationships. Nevertheless, human relations of all kinds no doubt had a decisive impact on Goldziher’s quality of life and his professional work. Correspondences of Goldziher with these (and other) scholars illustrate how much they relied on their mutual help in facilitating their research by providing sources, checking references, copying manuscripts, and the like. A discussion of these relationships offers important addi-

Fleeing from God to God: the Purposes of this Book

23

tions to central themes discussed in earlier chapters. Mapping such convoluted interpersonal and professional connections and their ramifications utilizing a variety of sources is also indispensable for future editions or translations of Goldziher’s diary, and for other biographic work on Goldziher. Chapter IX demonstrates the influence of al-Ghazali and Baḥya ibn Paquda, Goldziher’s medieval guiding spirits, on his personal piety and religious practice. His ambivalences toward Orthodox and Neolog Judaism, and his tensions between study and worship, are also examined. Despite these inner uncertainties, he had ironclad loyalties toward his religion and home-country; ideological backgrounds are offered to this somewhat perplexing phenomenon. What kind of motivations, curiosities, and “elective affinities” drive a scholar to a research theme? Goldziher’s publications and the wealth of biographic sources related to him allow us to explore such questions. It was not a mere incidence that Goldziher, who as a teenager witnessed the division of Central European Jewry into “sects” and of Hungarian Jewry into denominations, would show great interest in and perceptivity for the inner diversity of Islam and its “sectarian” variations. It was also not surprising that someone considered as a “Spinozist” or a “freethinker” [apikoros]—already as a 12 year old, if we rely on Goldziher’s Diary (T 22)—was to become attentive to the phenomenology of zindiqism and “freethinking” in Islam.⁶³ As someone unqualified to assess professionally Goldziher’s achievements in central fields of his oeuvre, I will track some of his main research themes, methods, and motivations back to the early stages of his development and historical environment, and highlight the interconnections of these themes in Jewish and Islamic fields. Goldziher, as many of his contemporaries, started as a religious Jewish student, and he remained one, on his own terms, all through his life. Some part of the mentality expressed in the medieval Book of the Pious: “I am not a scholar [hakham] among the scholars, but a disciple of the God-fearing ones,”⁶⁴ was lodged in his identity and became part of his innermost aspirations. This background and outlook, as well as his views on religion as such, created a quite unique matrix of competences, commitments, and conflicts for him—and this matrix, and the scholarly ethos that developed from it, distinguishes him among orientalists and scholars of Islam.⁶⁵ It is the third central task of this book to trace the implications of this matrix and ethos on his accomplishments,  From his “Abū-l-‘Alā al-Ma‘arrī als Freidenker” to his “A buddhismus hatása az iszlámra,” 87– 88, and beyond.  Sefer Ḥasidim, 40, no. 38.  For some recent, general trends in biographies of “scholarly personae,” see Paul, “Introduction.”

24

I Introduction

and it is necessary to submit here some general, preliminary remarks and reflections on them.

Academic Religion The study of canonical texts and discipleship are important tenets of Judaism and Islam, but in understanding Goldziher’s life work these notions have additional meanings. Speaking about Zacharias Frankel (1801– 1875), the great scholar and Rector of the Breslau Rabbinical Seminary, the Jewish philosopher Hermann Cohen remarked in 1904 that “his scholarship was his piety.”⁶⁶ Goldziher himself explored individual manifestations of scholarly ethos and piety in Semitics in a long series of studies, memorial lectures, and obituaries. By content and form, these articles of him belong to the field of history of scholarship and Gelehrtengeschichte. Scribes and sages, already in the ancient Near East as well as in classical Greece and Rome, constituted a social type or even a separate class, with distinctive features of religious beliefs and practices and with elements of a class-consciousness.⁶⁷ In an essay from 1938 (published in German), the classical scholar Károly (Karl) Kerényi⁶⁸ went a step further. Commenting on texts by Cicero, he declared true scholarship itself an essentially religious endeavor (he considered it a cultless religion—or at least its cults are unlike anything known from the history of religions). Similar to the vigilance and circumspection required by priestly duties, meticulousness and caution in collecting and checking data and forming conclusions are required from scholars. Not unlike conscientious priestly observance of divine signs and will, scholars keep their eyes on, and are fully exposed to, the wordly state of affairs. However, as an alternative to the cleric bound by tradition, doctrinal fundamentals, and apologetic obligations, a scholar challenges reality and history with questions, expecting and accepting only probable truths.⁶⁹  Cohen, “Ein Gruß der Pietät an das Breslauer Seminar,” 419. Leo Baeck (“Helfer und Lehrer,” 309) made similar remarks about Martin Schreiner, Goldziher’s outstanding disciple, in a memorial address in 1927.  For the Near Eastern orbit, see more recently Perdue, ed., Scribes, Sages, and Seers, and see below.  The primary field of Kerényi (1897– 1973) was Greek and Roman religion, but his scholarly attitudes and position in Hungarian academic life, as long as he lived there (from 1943 onwards he lived in Switzerland) were similar to Goldziher’s in several respects. He was one of those opposing the nationalist trend in Hungary, from the 1920s, in the research of classical antiquity and of academic policies in general (see below, Ch. II).  Kerényi, “Religio Academici” (for an English translation, see the bibliography).

Academic Religion

25

Kerényi added his own, modern perspective to the ancient problem of tensions between philosophical and scientific knowledge on the one hand and religious faith and practice on the other.⁷⁰ His ideal of the scholar (he primarily had in mind philologists and scholars of ancient religion as he himself was) was colored by contemporary “existentialist” philosophies, and the elements of the “involvedness” and the “relevance” of the scholarly quest were accentuated in it. Goldziher combined strict and devoted philological work and studiousness with a comprehensive view of cultural and religious progress. He also had a vested interest in facilitating progress in these dimensions in general and in Judaism in particular. His scholarly persona and ideals fit to a high degree Kerényi’s notion of “academic religion” and his scholarly ideals. A different type, still close to Kerényi’s ideals, was the detached Stubengelehrter—a relatively frequent phenomenon among philologists, positivist historians, etc. Good examples of this type of vocational, scholarly ethos—a substitute or quasi-religion—as it emerged in humanistic disciplines in the nineteenth century, can be found in the life and works of Moritz Steinschneider (1816 – 1907, a self-conscious and Jewish representative of this ethos) in Judaic studies in the narrower sense of the term, and of Theodor Nöldeke (the great non-Jewish Semitist, one of Goldziher’s closest friends), who may also be considered a Judaic scholar in a broader sense. The relation of these two to the inherited religion of their fathers was certainly different than Fraenkel’s and Goldziher’s—each in its own way. Various streams of progressive Judaism responded to acculturation and alienation from traditional Judaism, with developing historical (or historicist) theologies similar to the emergence of natural or rational theologies that emerged among Stoics in their age of alienation from traditional religion, and also similar to (and under the influence of) liberal Protestant theology of the first half of the nineteenth century. We will discuss how Goldziher grappled with these Jewish theological platforms. Thus, in this book “academic religion” can be understood as academic piety, as an academic’s religion, in the sense described above. The phrase “academic religion” is applicable to the intersection between Goldziher’s convictions, beliefs, and scholarly work, and in the present book it has additional meanings. It also refers to the academic study of religion. Scribes and scholars, as well as prophets and poets, were not only rivals to priests but  Cotta, the protagonist of Cicero-Kerényi, wore two hats: that of a Roman pontifex maximus and that of an “Academic,” skeptic philosopher. For critical reflexions on Kerényi’s essay (an example of erudite reading-in to a classical source), see Geréby, “Dr Historian and Mr Divine”; Mestyán, “The Ethics of Kowledge: Religio Academici Reconsidered.”

26

I Introduction

also their heirs. The historical differentiation and evolution of these types and functions in religion was of much interest to Goldziher.⁷¹ It was ancient rabbis, “sages” (hakhamim) who declared—with their own sense of evolutionary historicism and with apparent self-approval—that “a Sage is superior (or preferable) to a prophet.”⁷² In his works Goldziher quotes an interesting parallel to this statement from the Islamic tradition, attributed to the Prophet of Islam: “The scholars (ulama) of my community are as the prophets of the people of Israel.”⁷³ Ancient Judaism reflected much on the “historical” morphology of the priestly, prophetic, and rabbinic “classes” and the significance of their roles in the religious tradition. In antiquity, in the wake of the destruction of the First and Second Temples, the bifurcation of the priestly and the scribal-scholarly (rabbinic) classes gradually wore down but resurfaced in a limited (mostly sociological) sense with the emergence of progressive Judaism, the modern rabbinate, and the Rabbinical Seminaries in the nineteenth century. Goldziher was disappointed with this development,⁷⁴ and in an evolutionary-historicist outlook like his (in the footsteps of the Hegelians and Abraham Geiger), it was indeed not easy to accept such a partial “regression.” His outlook also naturally implied viewing the modern academic study of religion (i. e., the “science of religion”) as a culmination of the history of religions. In Goldziher’s eyes modern scholarship on religion was the ultimate goal (actual or potential) of all previous developments of all religions, and these scholars as a group surpassed all previous types of religiouscultural elites in the monotheistic religions. The third meaning of “academic religion” refers to the inherently academic (i. e. study-centered) nature of Judaism and Islam—with all the due limitations of course. In these religious civilizations supreme value is attached to the study of the traditional texts, which involves critical methods as well. In sum, Goldziher broadly defined his lifelong academic pursuits as part of the academic (or scientific) study of religion. Studying traditional texts, as well as critical (including methodological) reflections on them, was (and still is) a core value in Judaism and Islam. With Judaism as his “home turf,” Goldziher quickly familiarized himself with Islam. Learning as a religious duty and

 Goldziher, “A vallásos eszme fejlődése a régi hébereknél,” 346, 364– 365.  Babylonian Talmud, Bava bathra 12a-b is the locus classicus, with parallels and much related material scattered in Talmudic-midrashic literature (“Midrash” refers to biblical interpretations of ancient rabbis, as well as collections of such interpretations).  Goldziher, “Die Religion des Islams,” 111; idem, Vorlesungen, 70; Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 66. Cf. Vorlesungen, 80; 133, n. 1, and Vorlesungen, ed. Babinger, 321, n. 1. Goldziher does not refer to rabbinic parallels.  Goldziher, “A zsidóság lényege,” 125 – 126.

On Goldziherology—Sources, Achievements, Approaches

27

merit, as well as a critical, “academic” study, carried deep personal significance for him, and he saw the academic exploration of these two monotheistic religions as part of his personal religious quest. It is one of my central purposes therefore to scrutinize and analyze, in the context of the life and work of Goldziher, a “progressive,” Hungarian, Central-European Jew, the interface (“interfaith”) between scholarship in religion, on religion, and as religion: the dynamics of traditional learning, critical scholarship, and personal piety in his life work. Goldziher’s career bore, of course, the stamp of his character and particular historical circumstances, yet this three-dimensional intellectual life space and triple commitment also hark back to ancient Near Eastern intellectual roles and types. In tracing the roots of the genres of “wisdom” and “apocalypticism” to their shared scribal milieu, Jonathan Z. Smith comments on “Babylonian scribalism, an unbroken tradition from the Sumerian period to the sages of the Babylonian Talmud”: The scribes were an elite group of learned, literate men, […] dedicated to a variety of roles: guardians of their cultural heritage, intellectual innovators, world travelers who brought about a cross-cultural flow of wisdom […]. Their greatest love was the study of themselves and they guarded and transmitted their teaching, wrote biographies and hagiographies of their lives and their ancestral prototypes, preserved and annotated one another’s labors.⁷⁵

Much of Goldziher’s scholarly biography resonates with this succinct characterization of ancient Near Eastern “scribalism” as a social phenomenon. Goldziher’s writings (the “Jewish” ones in particular) published during his lifetime and his posthumously edited diaries illuminate each other. Between Goldziher the scholar and Goldziher the Jew there is a consonance, the dimensions of which have remained largely unexplored in scholarship on Goldziher —which I will call in what follows, for the sake of brevity, “Goldziherology.” This is one of the overarching issues that this book seeks to address. If scholarship was Goldziher’s “piety,” then a tactful mediator—Islam, as it turned out— was needed to interface between his scholarship and piety.

On Goldziherology—Sources, Achievements, Approaches Ignaz Goldziher’s life, work, and personality have received considerable attention in recent decades, partly for reasons related only indirectly to the lasting merits of his scholarship. Two books, both published in 1978, greatly contrib-

 Smith, “Wisdom and Apocalyptic,” 70.

28

I Introduction

uted to the renewed interest. One is Edward Said’s Orientalism, which was the first to put careers of orientalists like Goldziher into a broad historical-political context.⁷⁶ The other is Goldziher’s diary published by Alexander Scheiber,⁷⁷ which is a uniquely informative source that will unequivocally serve as the foundation for all future intellectual biographies of Goldziher the scholar. The idea of writing such a biography was raised by Goldziher himself, with an ambivalent attitude towards his Jewish milieu. In a 1917 letter to Immanuel Löw, he writes as follows: “[…] a biography of my life from a merely Jewish point of view would be very interesting and maybe also instructive. But there is no need for it; and it also would not be an edifying one.”⁷⁸ Nevertheless, he himself embarked on such a project when, in 1890, he started to write his diary, which opens with a detailed memoir, or autobiography, covering the first four decades of his life (T 15 – 122). This composite document is “very interesting” and “instructive” indeed—yet also “not edifying” in some respects. A full-fledged scholarly biography of Goldziher has yet to be written, and difficulty awaits the future biographer who wishes to undertake such a task.⁷⁹ Although many important documents and studies related to several aspects of Goldziher’s life and works have been published in recent decades, much material related to his life and works—above all, his correspondences—has not been located and published, which would make such a biography possible. First, I will make some observations and remarks on Goldziher’s diaries, one of the most important sources on Goldziher. The publication of the main diary caused a minor shock in the scholarly community.⁸⁰ Only a few  Said, Orientalism.  Goldziher, Tagebuch.  Scheiber, “Goldziher Ignác levelei Löw Immánuelhez.” In this brief article, Scheiber published interesting excerpts from some of Goldziher’s 41 letters (presumably all in Hungarian) to Immanuel Löw to which he had access at that time. The current location of these letters is unknown, and to my knowledge, no further excerpts from them have subsequently been published.  Such a task requires a good command of a number of languages, expertise in Goldziher’s research fields and an intimate knowledge of his local (personal and historical) environment. Raphael Patai was among the few potentially equipped to carry out such a task successfully; he made an effort on a limited scale and with limited success (see below). Unfortunately, scholars such as Georges Vajda or István Hahn, Goldziher’s disciples’ disciples, have not been engaged in this task.  Prof. Joshua Blau ‫ ז"ל‬related to me that when he received a copy of the diary, he read it through at a draught (on a Shabbat) and became “sick” for that day. In his article, ‫"המדע‬ "‫והחיים‬, Goitein recalls that when he visited Goldziher’s son (Károly) in Budapest, probably in 1948, he refused to give him the diary to read, saying that “it is such a painful reading that he cannot relinquish it.”

On Goldziherology—Sources, Achievements, Approaches

29

people had a chance to read the diary in its entirety before its publication.⁸¹ In fact, it was Alexander Scheiber, and not Goldziher’s family, who decided to publish the diary after much hesitation and extended consultations with friends both in Hungary and—particularly—abroad.⁸² Unfortunately Scheiber, who edited and published the diary from the autograph in his possession,⁸³ failed to make it available to the public; I am unaware of the existence of available microfilms or other copies of the manuscript anywhere in the world.⁸⁴ More recently, the manuscript has been acquired from Scheiber’s family by the Avicenna Institute of Middle Eastern Studies in Piliscsaba (Hungary), which, hopefully, will make the manuscript accessible for researchers around the world in the near future. I had the opportunity to study a digital copy of the manuscript⁸⁵; my (limited) inspection confirmed the impression that Scheiber’s editorial work leaves quite a lot to be desired (see Appendix III). There may be a need for a new edition of the diary—as a preparation for an annotated English translation of the diary,⁸⁶ or independent of it.

 Among them: Bernát Heller, Joseph Somogyi, Mózes Richtmann, Károly Czeglédy, Sándor Fodor.  Scheiber, “Előszó,” 6; his “friends” with whom he consulted on this matter are yet to be identified. In 1958, Scheiber wrote that the diary “has remained” “in the legacy of his son [Károly Goldziher]” and that he “should one day like to publish” it with Professor Joseph Somogyi; Scheiber, “Addenda to the Bibliography of Goldziher,” 209; see also Lőwinger, "‫פרופ' יצחק יהודה‬ ‫")איגנץ( גולדציהר‬, (in what follows: Lőwinger, “Goldziher”), 180, n. 17. In the end, Scheiber published the diary alone. I have reason to believe that it was not coincidental that this happened only after Somogyi’s death (April 8, 1976); this is a complex issue that cannot be discussed in the present framework. Károly Czeglédy was one of those consulted by Scheiber, who, having read the diary, opposed publishing it (István Ormos, private communication).  Scheiber writes (T 9) that the diary came to his possession in accordance with Károly Goldziher’s will (who died on November 6, 1955). The diary was in the latter’s possession until his death. Scheiber got hold of the diary only in 1958.  As of Oct. 2022 the only images of any parts of the diary available to the public are the ones that appear on the dust jacket of the published edition (a bifolio including part of entries of from August 24 to September 11, 1893), as well as the first page of the manuscript (among illustrations, at the end of the edition).  I am grateful to Prof. Miklós Maróth, Director of the Avicenna Institute, for allowing me to work with the digital copy at the Institute in Spring 2022.  I heard from Professor David Weiss Halivni ‫ ז"ל‬that there was an initiative to translate the diary into English when he was President of the American Academy for Jewish Research (1989 – 1992), but there were objections to this project—mainly or partly by himself, due to considerations about Goldziher’s flirting with Islam.

30

I Introduction

A Jewish Bildungsroman set in Dualist Austria-Hungary could be written based on the diaries and other personal materials. The diaries are the main source of Goldziher’s biography and his reflections on his life. However, the use of “ego- documents” (diaries, correspondences, and the like) for writing a biography without contrasting them with other sources and perspectives raises methodological issues. Goldziher’s diaries are no exception, as we will see in Ch. III.⁸⁷ There are numerous issues and episodes in his life story that are treated in Goldziherology relying on his diaries as the only source. These treatments are often uncritical or hyper-critical; search for other source materials and their analyses will surely yield more nuanced accounts of such biographic issues. The shockingly personal diaries have also proven to be divisive readings and serve as benchmarks of sorts in Goldziherology. The lack of sufficient information and the subjective nature of the information at our disposal prevent us from forming judgements on many of Goldziher’s personal conflicts, behavioral patterns or character traits. I will try to avoid the mentioned two extremes (the uncritical and the hyper-critical approaches) in approaching the “negative” personal elements in the diaries and in relating to the historical-social context. Goldziher had a complex personality with complex identities—a fact which is often not, or not sufficiently, reflected by the pious voice of his grateful disciples such as Bernát Heller or A. S. Yahuda. While it is not my purpose to delve into his psychological complexities, I also cannot ignore these aspects of course, and will not refrain from making some related observations in various chapters of the book. Next I turn to the availability of other important sources on Goldziher, and to major achievements of scholarship on Goldziher. Goldziher’s correspondences (more than 13,000 letters, the overwhelming majority of which are letters sent to him) have been digitized by the Library and Information Centre of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, and are freely and conveniently available.⁸⁸ Limited parts of the correspondences have been processed, published or utilized, and the work is ongoing.⁸⁹ Much of Goldziher’s letters, scattered in Hungary and

 See also Conrad, [Review of:] Peter Haber, Zwischen jüdischer Tradition und Wissenschaft], 326 – 328.  http://opac.mtak.hu//F/?func=find-c&local_base=mta01&ccl_term=WBS%3DGIL&pds_han dle=GUEST (accessed May 15, 2022).  See the online bibliography of literature on letters to and by Goldziher: Dévényi and Schmidtke, The Published Correspondences of Ignaz Goldziher.

On Goldziherology—Sources, Achievements, Approaches

31

all over the world, are yet to be located and researched.⁹⁰ Goldziher’s entire oeuvre has been made available online by the Library of the Hungarian Academy.⁹¹ Goldziherology is indebted to a long series of scholars, first of all to those who published, edited, translated, and elucidated his works and personal documents. Among them, special mention should be made of Bernát (Bernhard) Heller, Joseph Somogyi (DeSomogyi), Alexander Scheiber, Róbert Simon, Raphael Patai, István Ormos, and Kinga Dévényi. Heller, one of Goldziher’s few outstanding disciples who remained close to his teacher’s research interests, laid the foundations for Goldziher’s future biographers. He compiled the first comprehensive bibliography of Goldziher and wrote important articles (and lexicon-entries) and personal memoirs on him.⁹² He translated Goldziher’s Vorlesungen into Hungarian, and was involved in an —ultimately failed—effort, initiated in 1926 or 1927, to publish Goldziher’s Collected Writings.⁹³ It was Joseph Somogyi, an accomplished historian of Islam (and the youngest among Goldziher’s talented disciples), who succeeded in publishing Goldziher’s Gesammelte Schriften (from 1967 onwards); he also wrote valuable articles on him. Scheiber published several important correspondences of Goldziher or excerpts thereof (Immanuel Löw, Max Nordau)

 Valuable parts of Goldziher’s correspondences—such as his letters to Bacher and Immanuel Löw which we know from excerpts published by Heller and Scheiber, respectively—as well as individual letters to others excerpted by them, are lost or destroyed or inaccessible today. For example, Károly Goldziher (the son of Ignaz) on June 18, 1941, sent two letters, apparently from Bacher to Goldziher, to Heller, asking him “to preserve them together with those that are with you.” This letter of Károly Goldziher is found in the correspondences in the Heller-bequest at the Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary—Jewish University, Budapest, no. 150. The location of the two mentioned letters are unknown.  https://goldziheren.mtak.hu/bibliografia/ (accessed May 15, 2022).  Heller was also a disciple of Vilmos Bacher and Mór Kármán, and wrote valuable articles on them too, with important materials relevant to Goldziher’s biography.  From a letter of Goldziher’s son, Károly, to Bernát Heller (dated March 14, 1927), we learn that Heinz Lafaire, a publisher of Orientalia in Hannover (Germany) planned to publish Goldziher’s Gesammelte Schriften, apparently under the editorship of Eugen Mittwoch. The letter (in German) is part of the Heller bequest in the Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary—University of Jewish Studies, Budapest; Letters, no. 374. Heller’s involvement in this initiative is clear from his letter to Lafaire from the same year (in the same collection, no. 176); maybe he was to be tasked with editing Goldziher’s articles on Jewish and Jewish-Arabic matters. In one of his articles Heller briefly mentions (in general terms) this initiative, adding that typesetting of the work has actually begun, but the publisher went bankrupt in the great economic depression and crisis (probably between 1929 and 1931). He also reveals that George Alexander Kohut “offered [to cover the expenses of] publishing Goldziher’s Jewish writings, but Károly Goldziher could not bring himself to divide [Goldziher’s] works.” Heller, “Goldziher Ignác emlékezete,” 11.

32

I Introduction

in addition to the diary. He edited an abridged Hungarian translation of the main diary,⁹⁴ initiated and made possible the publication of the oriental diary, and also made important observations in his articles and forewords on Goldziher. An outstanding Hungarian scholar of Islam, Simon spent decades studying Goldziher and the local historical contexts of his oeuvre. He published highly important studies on these contexts and also pioneered, with great erudition, in editing some of Goldziher’s works and their translations (as well as part of his correspondences with Nöldeke), providing backgrounds to the history of scholarship on some of Goldziher’s major themes.⁹⁵ Some of Simon’s (an “orientalist in East-Central Europe” himself) studies on Goldziher (with significant shifts in his views on certain issues) to date have regrettably only been published in Hungarian.⁹⁶ Patai published an annotated English translation of the oriental diary (written in German⁹⁷) together with a comprehensive psychological portrait of Goldziher. Ormos republished many of Goldziher’s works written in Hungarian which were difficult to access. He also edited an important conference volume and authored a series of erudite articles on him and monographs on persons related to his biography. Dévényi, as curator of the Arabic manuscripts, the David Kaufmann Collection, and the Goldziher bequest at the Library and Information Centre of Hungarian Academy of Sciences, initiated and oversaw the digitization of Goldziher’s correspondences and works. She has also edited, translated, and republished some of Goldziher’s works, and wrote important articles on him. These achievements created the basic infrastructure for Goldziherology, but there are further important contributions and approaches that must be mentioned here. Besides Simon, Lawrence I. Conrad is the only other scholar in recent generations to delve into Goldziher’s oeuvre, his historical and scholarly environment, and develop a comprehensive view on his scholarly persona. He published numerous articles and reviews on Goldziher. Beyond elucidating important issues (including Goldziher’s responses to Western influences on the

 Many relevant passages in the diary (mostly derogatory remarks on Vámbéry, David Kaufmann, Vilmos Bacher, Moritz Wahrmann, and other officials of the Neolog Jewish community of Pest) are omitted or shortened in the Hungarian translation. Simon (Goldziher Ignác, 246 – 248) published a list of the omissions, but the list is far from being accurate and complete.  Simon, Ignác Goldziher.  Three studies and the introduction published in Simon, Goldziher Ignác (9 – 19, 177– 259), are available only in Hungarian; the rest is included in his English volume.  The accuracy of this translation was contested by Conrad and others.

On Goldziherology—Sources, Achievements, Approaches

33

Near East⁹⁸), these articles serve as informative and highly readable introductions, written with sound judgment, to Goldziher’s figure and milieu. Peter Haber wrote a book-length biography of Goldziher. In addition to providing voluminous excerpts from the diary, Haber narrates Goldziher’s life story in the context of the process of Jewish assimilation in Hungary. The author suggests borrowing a concept from social sciences (“marginal man”) to understand his protagonist’s position in contemporary Hungarian society.⁹⁹ Ottfried Fraisse analyzed Goldziher’s concept of historical development and its sources, mostly in light of the latter’s lecture series, The Essence and Evolution of Judaism. ¹⁰⁰ For a deeper and more comprehensive historical characterization of Goldziher’s career and its problems, Simon presented Goldziher’s unique scholarly achievements as an example of the oft-observed phenomenon that path-breaking intellectual accomplishments emerge in the historical “semi-periphery” and not in the most developed “center” of a “world-system.”¹⁰¹ Haber portrayed Goldziher as a “marginal man,” whose life and loyalties were in permanent unresolved tensions, in a double bind, divided between Hungary and the international scholarly community (and between Jewish and general society). Similar to Simon, Fraisse opined that this “marginal” position of Goldziher was a deliberate choice that stimulated his research.¹⁰² Goldziher and most other members of the Eötvös group were socially vulnerable in their careers, and yet the category of the “marginal Jew,” as we have seen above, does not do justice to their predicament. They developed their individual amalgam of a Jewish and Hungarian identity which proved to be via For Goldziher and reforms in Islam, see Conrad, “The Dervish’s Disciple,” esp. 239 – 243; Idem, “The Pilgrim from Pest,” 132– 138; see also van Ess, “Goldziher as a Contemporary of Islamic Reform”; Dabashi, Post-Orientalism. The latter hails Goldziher’s anti-colonialism (88 – 90, 100, 107– 108), criticizes Said’s ill-informed references to Goldziher (81– 90), and defends Said’s main theses (89 – 106).  Haber, Zwischen jüdischer Tradition und Wissenschaft, 230 – 235; on the book see Conrad, [Review of:] Peter Haber, Zwischen jüdischer Tradition und Wissenschaft. The predicament for which the concepts “marginal Jew,” or Grenzjude, were coined, was described in sociology for the first time (without explicit reference to Jews) by Georg Simmel in 1908 (Haber, ibid., 231– 233); the concepts were introduced into modern Jewish intellectual history and applied from the late 1970s to characterize numerous Jewish intellectuals, particularly in the German cultural orbit (such as Kafka, Herzl, Nordau, Stefan Zweig, or Einstein) by Frederic Grunfeld (Prophets Without Honour) and others.  Fraisse, Ignác Goldzihers monotheistische Wissenschaft.  Simon, Goldziher Ignác, 16. The terms “semi-periphery” and “world-system” are borrowed from the sociologist and economic historian Immanuel Wallerstein (1930 – 2019).  Fraisse, Ignác Goldzihers monotheistische Wissenschaft, 16 – 17.

34

I Introduction

ble and supported their spectacular academic careers for decades, until the social-political climate deteriorated to the point (not before World War I, in most cases) when their identity-construction eroded and broke down. Based on a superficial familiarity with Goldziher’s life and works, Edward Said put Goldziher in a box—Western orientalism—that he considered to be, as a collective ego, the agent of Western imperialism.¹⁰³ Since then a significant part of Goldziherology has revolved around this issue, amplifying the pros and cons of the Saidian thesis. In his recent dissertation, David Moshfegh succeeds to extricate Goldziher from the overly politicized orientalism-discourse and places his Islamwissenschaft on the backdrop of nineteenth orientalist scholarship and Protestant and Jewish scholarship on religion. Moshfegh reconstructs Goldziher’s universalist attitude towards Islam and his reform “project,” showing to what extent his reform vision integrated with, but essentially differed from, religious and political assumptions of European (primarily German) orientalism. He analyzes the personal religious motivation behind Goldziher’s Islamic scholarship more thoroughly and perceptively than previous scholarship.¹⁰⁴ Goldziher’s life and career will remain intriguing for a long time. The unique documentation on him (diaries, correspondences, other biographic materials) has left us with rare glimpses into his stellar but untypical scholarly career and his peculiar personality. His relationships with some of the figures who played important roles in his life and intellectual formation (including Vámbéry, Nöldeke, Fleischer, and Geiger) have received considerable attention in Goldziherology. His relations with others (such as Kármán, Ballagi, Leopold and Immanuel Löw, and some of his students) are outlined in this book, but there is much work to be done in this area. Goldziherology has shown little interest in the Jewish aspects of Goldziher’s oeuvre and intellectual development. His publications on Jewish matters, his works in Hungarian, Hungarian biographic sources on him (such as obituaries  Said was not the first to relate to Goldziher and European orientalism with much apprehension. Upon reading some of Goldziher’s works, the influential Indian Muslim poet, “revivalist” political thinker and politician Muhammad Iqbal remarked already in 1930: “I am not sure of the European orientalists, because they create their works for ends of political propaganda”; Schimmel, Gabriel’s Wing: a Study of the Religious Ideas of Sir Muhammad Iqbal, 317. For Goldziher’s reception in Egypt, see references by Heschel, “German Jewish Scholarship on Islam,” 98. Some studies are available on specific translations of Goldziher’s works into oriental languages (Arabic, Turkish, Persian, etc.); further studies and specialist assessments are needed on these translations as well as Goldziher’s reception outside the Western world in general.  Moshfegh, Ignaz Goldziher and the Rise of Islamwissenschaft; see also his “Race, Religion and the Question of the Orient in Islamwissenschaft.”

On Goldziherology—Sources, Achievements, Approaches

35

and recollections), and his correspondences: all these sources have been utilized in Goldziherology only to a limited extent. It is our purpose to broaden the discussion on Goldziher in these directions as well.

II Historical and Academic Milieu Historical Situation of Hungarian Jews Goldziher lived during the most intensive period of the modernization of Hungary, the Dualist Monarchy of Austria-Hungary (1867– 1918), which also involved the emancipation of the Jews and of Judaism as a religion. His birth and death occurred in periods which were considered by most Hungarians (and Hungarian Jews) to be among the darkest in Hungarian history¹⁰⁵: he was born right after the crushing of the revolution and war of independence against Habsburg Austria in 1848 – 1849, and died right after the dismembering of Hungary by the peace treaty of Trianon in the wake of World War I (in 1920), which entailed the loss of two thirds of the country’s former territory and half of its Magyar population. These historical circumstances had a profound impact on Goldziher’s career, the professional climate he worked in, and his mood and emotions. Therefore a brief survey of this period will be useful here. At the end of the seventeenth century Hungary was liberated, or from another perspective conquered or reconquered, by the Habsburgs after a century and a half of Turkish (Ottoman) occupation. From this Reconquista until the end of World War I, Hungary was part of the Habsburg Empire. The Jewish population of Hungary grew by almost ten times in the nineteenth century, and numbered close to a million at the dissolution of the Empire. Hungary (particularly together with Transylvania¹⁰⁶) was the most diverse state in Europe from an ethnic and religious point of view—a source of relative tolerance as well as intense conflicts, at different periods.¹⁰⁷ As for the Hungarian Jewish context, the brief historical survey below concentrates on developments in progressive Judaism in Hungary, as this was the

 Cf. along the same lines the eloquent, patriotic remarks of Heller (in a lecture delivered in 1922), “Goldziher Ignácz és a néprajz,” 309; and idem, “Goldziher Ignác,” 7.  Transylvania (now the north-western part of Romania), as a sort of “Duchy,” was part of the Kingdom of Hungary in the Middle Ages, threatened by Ottoman expansion into the Balkans from the mid-fifteenth century onwards. After the defeat by the Ottomans at Mohács (1526) and the dissolution of the Hungarian Monarchy, Transylvania became a semi-autonomous vassal state of the Ottoman Empire. In this state, uniquely in Europe, religious freedom was declared (in 1568) for Catholics, Calvinists, Lutherans, and Unitarians. At the end of the seventeenth century the Habsburg Empire conquered this territory from the Turks, and it subsequently formed a separate principality within it. After the Austro-Hungarian Compromise (1867) Transylvania returned to Hungary, until the dissolution of Austria-Hungary in 1918.  Silber, “Hungary: Hungary before 1918.” https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285-004

Historical Situation of Hungarian Jews

37

camp which Goldziher belonged to—despite his piercing criticism of it, and the sharp conflicts he had with it. Sporadic instances of maskilic influence (i. e., influence of the Jewish Enlightenment, the haskalah) in some Hungarian Jewish circles, as well as more organized forms of progressive Judaism, started to take shape in Hungary in the “pre-March” (Vormärz) period—prior to the wave of revolutions in German and Habsburg lands in March 1848—particularly in the 1840s when the urbanization of Jews in the country began. These progressive groups took their inspiration from various progressive Jewish groups and ideologies in Germany and Austria. More significantly, the efforts they made towards emancipation were in step with Hungarian liberal nationalism from the 1840s onwards. Hungarian Jewish progressives became more organized and their alliance with political liberals strengthened in the 1860s, based as it was on socio-economic factors, when a weakened Austria restored to Hungary some of the political rights it had enjoyed within the Habsburg Empire until the revolution. Traditionalist Jewry responded to the rise of local progressive Judaism by closing ranks in the 1850s and 1860s, and a militant Orthodoxy (some call it Ultra-Orthodoxy) emerged. It was quite a polarized although far from dichotomous Jewry by 1867, when an agreement (“Compromise”) was reached between Austria and Hungary and an Austro-Hungarian Dual Monarchy was formed.¹⁰⁸ At that important historical juncture Baron József Eötvös, a leading (Catholic liberal) statesman and political philosopher and the newly appointed Minister of Religion and Education (1867– 1871),¹⁰⁹ launched his ambitious conservative-liberal plan of reconfiguring relations between State and Church, which was closely related to his educational reform plans.¹¹⁰ As part of his vision and with the advice of representatives of local progressive Judaism (called Neolog Judaism), in 1868 Eötvös convened a Jewish Congress, representing the Hungarian (and Transylvanian) Jewry in its entirety. The goal of Eötvös and his Neolog advisers was to integrate Hungarian Jewry into a single, countrywide organizational structure.¹¹¹ What actually happened at this defining moment of Hungarian Jewry was the opposite, in a sense. The Congress (which ended in early 1869) led, in 1870 – 1871, to a “schism”: to the unprecedented establishment of two separate nationwide Jewish communal federations within a single country—one for the Neologs, another for the Orthodox. A  Katz, A House Divided, 40 – 46; Silber, “Hungary: Hungary before 1918,” 777– 779.  On the life and thought of Eötvös, see Bödy, Joseph Eötvös and the Modernization of Hungary.  Ibid., 102– 108, 115 – 124, 126 – 127.  Gángó, “Towards the 1868/69 Jewish congress in Hungary.”

38

II Historical and Academic Milieu

large part of the Orthodox elite (probably its majority) was secessionist and regarded the schism or split as a success. Most Neologs considered it a failure, for reasons that will be explained below. Neolog Judaism, originating in early nineteenth century Vienna, was a local, moderate form of Reform Judaism. In both Hungary and Austria, the impact of German reform trends in Judaism and its “Protestantization”¹¹² were controlled by the reigning Catholicism. Following Western Jewries, especially their progressive segments that defined their Judaism increasingly as a “religion” (in keeping with general philosophical, social, and political trends), it became one of the foundations of the Neolog ideology that Judaism is a religion, which left behind its erstwhile ethnic character and most of its residual ethnic elements.¹¹³ It should be noted, however, that a large part of Neologs (rabbis and “lay” members of their communities) neither could nor wanted to detach themselves entirely from such ethnic and collectivistic elements of the thousand years long Jewish historical and religious tradition.¹¹⁴ A moderate reform movement, Neology suited the needs of an increasing number of urbanized and acculturated Jews, coming from traditionalist families. The movement can be characterized by its patriotic spirit, its support for Hungarian nationalism, both political and cultural, and for “Magyarization.” This proverbially strong patriotism of Hungarian Jews (particularly, but not exclusively, of progressives, and particularly in the official-political sphere), their de-ethnicization of Judaism (and in due course “anti-Zionism”) should be understood against the backdrop of local historical conditions of Jewish emancipation. This emancipation process was predicated upon the understanding between Hungarian and Jewish elites (and their shared expectation) that Jews are able and committed to support Magyars in their demographic, cultural, and political struggle for predominance in Hungary, against its ethnic minorities. In religious matters, the Neolog movement or “camp” was distinguished by a conservative-liberal outlook: while accentuating “ethics,” it sought to maintain

 Schulze, “Islam und Judentum im Angesicht der Protestantisierung”; Wiese, “Protestantisierung.”  The de-ethnicization of European Jewry was a gradual process. In its political dimension it took about a century in Hungary; it started with the Habsburg absolutism of Joseph II at the end of the eighteenth century, and its last major stage was the “reception” of Judaism as a religion (putting it legally on an equal footing with those Christian denominations which gained such a recognized status much earlier in Hungary), with the attending introduction of civil marriage, in 1895. Orthodox Jewry made efforts to keep this process in check—with limited success.  Residual elements of “ethnic” consciousness of progressive Jews in Hungary, their variations and historical fluctuations, are complex issues which are beyond our scope here of course.

Historical Situation of Hungarian Jews

39

the validity of most traditional halakhic norms,¹¹⁵ without showing much concern about their actual observance.¹¹⁶ These features and the limited changes it promoted (mostly cultural and aesthetic innovations related to synagogue life), befitted a politically relatively liberal, culturally conservative, Catholic country like Hungary in the post-Compromise decades. Unlike in the German lands, in Hungary there was not only a religious, but also a cultural gap between progressive (Neolog) and conservative (Orthodox) Jewish masses. Neolog ideologues developed various strategies to cope with this problem, attempting to set Orthodoxy on a path towards “culture,” general education, and civil manners. Among these ideologues there were separatists, who thought progressives should organize themselves, implement their (moderate) reforms, and establish their own institutions—and let time do the rest for the Orthodox. The dominant school of Neolog political activists and rabbis, however, thought otherwise, believing that the unity of Hungarian Jewry should be maintained. Instead of alienating Orthodox Jewry, they argued that compromise should be sought (at least with the moderate groups within it), patiently wherever possible; and Neologs should and could dispel Orthodox apprehensions of Neolog Reform and religious betrayal.¹¹⁷ Neologs were far from being united on fundamental religious, ideological, and pedagogical questions and there were major dilemmas and dissensions concerning the Neolog vision itself and the methods of achieving it. Some, for example, thought in terms of “reforms from above”—for them, rabbinical training was crucial and the establishment of the Rabbinical Seminary became the rallying cry. Others, preferring a “reforms from below” type of approach, gave priority to Jewish education at the elementary and middle-school level. These dilemmas and differences within the progressive camp were already discernible in the deliberations of the Jewish Congress.¹¹⁸

 “Halakha” is the Hebrew term for normative-legal components of the Jewish (rabbinic) tradition. Most of the Neolog rabbis probably had no problems with declaring allegiance to the Shulchan Arukh, with some caveats (see I. Löw’s letter, Appendix IV) despite the fact that at the Hungarian Jewish Congress the Neolog leadership refused to comply with Orthodox demands to declare loyalty to the Shulchan Arukh (yielding to Neolog demands, the mandate of the Congress excluded deliberations of religious-“dogmatic” issues).  I. Löw, and the rabbinic assembly that he reports about—see Appendix IV—used a carefully considered formulation in saying that the halakha and the Shulchan Arukh are Neolog Judaism’s “guide” (irányadó), instead of using a stronger term such as they are “authoritative” or “binding.”  I. Löw’s letter to Goldziher (Appendix IV) attests to one of the Neolog attempts to promote the reunification of Hungarian Jewry.  Turán, “Truth and/or Peace.”

40

II Historical and Academic Milieu

Goldziher had his own, somewhat idiosyncratic, range of views on these issues, as we will see. The schism within Hungarian Jewry manifested, first of all, the deep sociocultural differences within it between the more urbanized and accultured Jews (mostly originating in Moravia, Bohemia, and Austria), and the rural, conservative Jews (who had migrated to the country mostly from the Eastern parts of the Empire: Galicia, Bukovina, etc., settling particularly the North-Eastern parts of the country). The split was also, in a way, a reflection of the ethnic and religious heterogeneity of the country: the centuries-old struggle between the predominant Catholicism and minority Protestantism (primarily in its Calvinist form, called by its followers the “Magyar” religion), and the fragmentation of the Christian denominations (Catholic, Eastern [Greek] Orthodox, Protestant) themselves.¹¹⁹ The assimilation and acculturation of Hungarian Jews gained momentum during the Dual Monarchy period (1867– 1918). Jews quickly came to play a disproportionately large role in local economies, culture, and filling “free professions” (as lawyers, doctors, etc.). For example, in higher education, a segment of society that is particularly relevant in the present context, from the 1880s to the end of the Dual Monarchy period, about a quarter to one third of all students were Jews, although the proportion of Jews in the general population of the country was only around 5 %. The disciplinary distribution, however, was uneven: the percentage of Jewish students in the humanities was 10 – 20 %; in the law faculty it was 17– 27 %; in medicine it reached 43 – 53 %. At the University of Budapest in particular, the annual percentage of Jewish students (in the abovementioned three faculties) was usually even greater than it was nationwide.¹²⁰ The evolution of progressive Judaism in Germany was relatively slow, gradual, and organic, based on the religious and philosophical Enlightenment—both in general and in its specifically Jewish aspects—which penetrated, to different degrees, all segments of German Jewry. Jewish progressivism in Hungary, on the other hand, was catalyzed by external social and political developments; its spectacular accomplishments as well as its limits and setbacks were conditioned by such developments. As an astute historian of Hungarian Jewish Geistesgeschichte observed: “[The] Berlin, Prague, and Vienna Jewries first acquired

 Turán, “‘As the Christians Go, so Go the Jews’.”  See the Hungarian Statistical Yearbooks. For the nationwide statistics, see especially Magyar Statisztikai Évkönyv 1895, 372; Magyar Statisztikai Évkönyv 1905, 392; Magyar Statisztikai Évkönyv 1910, 389. See also Silber, “Hungary: Hungary before 1918,” 780, and Kovács, “The Hungarian numerus clausus,” 28, 48.

Apostasy and Academic Promotion

41

culture [művelődött] and then introduced reforms; Hungarian Jewry the other way around: first it hastened to reform, and only then acquired culture.”¹²¹ It is necessary to briefly examine these limits, crises, and regressions in some of their manifestations in academia in the Dualist period and beyond, since they took a toll on both Goldziher’s career and social position.

Apostasy and Academic Promotion The desire for promotion and other career-related ambitions put Jews, especially those in state employment, under heavy social pressure to convert to Christianity. Among Jews conversion was a relatively widespread phenomenon in some segments of society. Resistance to this pressure to convert in itself counted and was valued among progressive Jews as a meritorious, quasi-religious act. Jewish intellectuals and businessmen who did not convert to Christianity were a source of pride for progressive, acculturated Jews and were celebrated by the Neolog community even if they barely had any religious or social connections to the community itself. As apostasy was a major avenue for acceptance and promotion for Jews in cultural elites in Hungary (and throughout Europe), which deeply affected Goldziher’s social environment and his own career, a brief survey of this issue in academic circles in his times is in order. Eötvös (the benefactor of Goldziher while serving as a government minister) was a powerful promoter of the emancipation of the Jews in Hungary, yet he left little doubt as to the place of Judaism in his vision of Hungarian society in the longer term. In a famous essay from 1840, advocating the emancipation of the Jews, he expressed his hope and anticipation that the local practitioners of Judaism, once social barriers are removed by emancipation, will merge into Christianity.¹²² A quarter of a century later, upon hearing a funeral oration by Alois Meisel (rabbi of the grand Neolog synagogue of Pest, on Dohány street) in 1864 (three years before the emancipation of the Jews in Hungary), Eötvös noted in his diary:

 Komlós, Magyar-zsidó szellemtörténet a reformkortól a Holocaustig, I, 95. Cf. Silber, “The Historical Experience of German Jewry,” 136, 142.  He wrote: “It is our human task to help always […], to correct all injustice, and […] only if we have acted accordingly can we hope that the spread of our religion, professed by our deeds, will embrace this people too—the principles of which is closer to it than it would think” (“Emberi feladatunk segíteni mindig […], helyrepótolni minden igazságtalanságot, s […] csak ha ezt tettük, reménylhetjük, hogy vallásunk hirdetve tetteink által, terjedésében végre e népet is közébe fogadja, mely hozzá elveiben közelebb áll, mint maga gondolná”) (Eötvös, A zsidók emancipációja, 60).

42

II Historical and Academic Milieu

[…] I never felt the impact of Christian principles, even on circles which feel aversion to them, more than here, where the Jewish orator, speaking on immortality and consoling the widow, set out from purely Christian notions. And here lies the need for the emancipation of Jews. Jews cease to be Jews day by day; they are closer, day by day, to those Christians who do not acknowledge the divinity of Christ; and where do we find reason or even pretext for excluding them from whatever rights?¹²³

In the political echelons of Hungary one could hardly find a figure with more liberal attitudes toward Jews and Judaism than Eötvös.¹²⁴ After the Compromise, Jews were still virtually barred from filling public offices, but their emancipation, in principle, made them eligible to take up academic positions and to fill the vacuum (created by de-Germanization) in the natural sciences, medicine, law, and humanities. Until 1871, there were only two public institutions for the cultivation of sciences: the University of Pest, and the Hungarian Academy of Sciences (a learned society founded in 1825). A central figure of the latter institution after the revolution of 1848 – 1849 (and its president between 1866 and 1871) was Eötvös. The University of Pest was the most prestigious, oldest, and, until 1871, only university in Hungary, established in 1635, in Nagyszombat (now Trnava, in Slovakia). It was a Catholic university, with a separate Faculty of Catholic theology.¹²⁵ There was de facto discrimination against Jews, and in the mentioned two institutions (as elsewhere in cultural life) Jews were under heavy (explicit or im-

 Quoted by Scheiber, “Eötvös József levele Bloch (Ballagi) Mórhoz.” The Hungarian original of this passage is as follows: “[…] a hatást, melyet a kereszténység elvei még azon körökre is gyakorolnak, melyek előttök elzárkóznak, soha inkább nem éreztem, mint itt, hol a zsidó szónok, midőn a halhatatlanságról szólt s az elhunytnak özvegyét vigasztalá, tisztán keresztény felfogásokból indult ki. S ebben fekszik a zsidó emancipáció szüksége. A zsidók naponként inkább megszűnnek zsidók lenni, naponként közelebb állnak azon keresztényekhez, kik Krisztus divinitását nem ismerik el s hol találjuk okát, vagy csak ürügyét is annak, hogy őket bármily jogokból kizárjuk?”  See references in Gángó, “Towards the 1868/69 Jewish congress in Hungary,” 237– 238, n. 11.  As Minister of Education, already in 1848 Eötvös planned to establish separate faculties for Protestant and Eastern (Greek) Orthodox theology, in order to expose them to general scholarship and to promote tolerance and mutual understanding between these major Christian denominations in Hungary. This plan was not implemented. In his second Ministry (1867– 1871), in a bill submitted to the Hungarian Parliament in 1870 on the academic structure of the University, Eötvös repeated the same proposal. His bill was not enacted into law. See Bödy, Joseph Eötvös and the Modernization of Hungary, 110, 127; idem, Science Policies in Hungary (1867 – 1910), 35 – 36.

Apostasy and Academic Promotion

43

plicit) pressure to convert to Christianity—to any of its major denominations.¹²⁶ Jews were permitted to be corresponding members of the Academy, or non-tenured lecturers (Privatdozent) at the University.¹²⁷ Without converting, however, they could not be promoted to ordinary members of the Academy or full professors at the University, until the 1890s. Eötvös did not agree with these policies, but ministers had limited influence on them. The Academy was an autonomous body with democratic election procedures, and the University also had a certain measure of autonomy in the decision-making process. As for higher education, in line with his liberal and enlightened vision, Eötvös as minister sought out gifted young scholars, among them Jews, and commissioned them to study abroad with stipends. He planned to fill vacant university positions with these talents. In addition to Goldziher and Vámbéry, Mór Kármán was another Jewish protégé of his. Within a few years Henrik Marczali, Bernát Alexander, József Bánóczi, and Zsigmond Simonyi joined this group, due to the encouragement and support of others. As mentioned in the Introduction, apart from Vámbéry and Simonyi,¹²⁸ none of these seven were ready to leave the Jewish fold (truth be told, most of the children and descendants of even these latter five were lost to Judaism within a generation or two). They became non-tenured lecturers at Pest University in the 1870s (Vámbéry earlier), and went on to be leading experts in their respective fields.¹²⁹ With the exception of Kármán and Bánóczi, they became full professors at the same university in due course: the converts Vámbéry and Simonyi in 1868 and 1889 respectively, while for those who remained Jews this happened somewhat later: Marczali in 1895 (in the year of the legal recognition of the Jewish faith as a “received religion”¹³⁰), Alexander in 1904,¹³¹ and Goldziher in 1905, as mentioned in the Introduction.

 Kovács, “Diszkriminációtól diszkriminációig,” 163 – 166. See for example the (retrospective) comments and two anecdotes (one of them cited by Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 50), recorded by Munkácsi, “Pályám kezdete,” 18. On the pressure to convert in general, see Konrád, Zsidóságon innen és túl.  Cf. T 46 on the apprehensions of Goldziher’s father concerning the pressure to convert even for receiving appointment as a lecturer.  On the latter, see Konrád, Zsidóságon innen és túl, 364– 367, 542. Before his conversion (to Catholicism) in 1884, Simonyi taught Latin in the lower (high-school) grades of the Budapest Rabbinical Seminary from 1878 for some years.  Komlós, “Zsidók a magyar tudományban a kiegyezés után” [1941]; [1997], 169 – 186, 197– 200. Vámbéry, Marczali, and Alexander were of international renown. On Marczali, see Dénes, Választott nemzet (on his relation to Judaism: 345–369).  On this—relatively late—recognition, or “emancipation,” of the Jewish faith (often called briefly “Reception” in historiography), see Prepuk, “Incomplete Emancipation.”

44

II Historical and Academic Milieu

It was two Jewish converts to Protestantism, scholars of stature in their own right, who alerted academia and Eötvös to the wunderkind Goldziher: Mór Ballagi (Bloch) and Ármin Vámbéry (T 29, 34, 128). They were the first Jews elected to be corresponding members of the Academy, and both were in close contact with Eötvös. Ballagi (1815 – 1891), a Biblical and Semitic scholar and linguist, became a corresponding member in 1840, converted in 1843, and became an ordinary member of the Academy in 1858.¹³² Vámbéry became a corresponding member in 1860, converted in 1864, and became an ordinary member in 1876.¹³³ To take an example from another field, the Jewish mathematician Gyula Kőnig was elected as an ordinary member of the Academy in 1889 (cf. Goldziher’s malicious remark on him, T 53), but shortly afterwards he converted to Christianity.

 For the four appointments mentioned, see Kovács, ed., Diszkrimináció, 140, 133, 99, 26. There were two ranks of full professorships (the difference between them being only the higher salary attached to the more senior position); this distinction, however, is irrelevant to us in the present context; dates here indicate the first appointment to any of them. Alexander was appointed as non-ordinary professor in 1895. Discouraged by the pressure to convert, Bánóczi, instead of pursuing promotion at the university, became rector of the Jewish Teacher’s Institute, and a central figure in Jewish cultural projects. He became a Privatdozent at Pest University in 1878, and was appointed as honorary non-ordinary professor there in 1911. Since 1879 he was corresponding member of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences. Goldziher taught the Talmud to him and Alexander in 1867– 1868 (T 31). Although Kármán commanded tremendous respect at his university and elsewhere (and was ennobled in 1907– 1908), he never became a full professor —apparently due to biographic and university-related circumstances that have nothing to do with discrimination. He became an honorary ordinary professor (with the title címzetes nyilvános rendes tanár—a status somewhat below the status granted to Goldziher in 1894, see above, Introduction n. 18) in 1909 (I am grateful to Prof. I. Gábor Kovács for his clarifications concerning Kármán).  In 1843 he converted (in Germany) to Lutheranism, and in 1851 (in Hungary), to Calvinism. One of his two sons (Aladár Ballagi), a professor of universal history in the modern period at the University of Pest (and eventually Dean and Rector of the institution), was an antisemite and did everything in his power to prevent appointments of Marczali, Alexander, and Simonyi at the University and to harm their careers; see Konrád, Zsidóságon innen és túl, 321– 326, 523 – 526; Silber, “Ballagi, Mór.”  For his conversion (to Calvinism), see Konrád, Zsidóságon innen és túl, 353 – 354; Mandler, Arminius Vambéry, 67. According to a personal recollection (published after Vámbéry’s death), which is not to be taken at face value of course, Vámbéry allegedly said: “I never baptized. Baptismal water never touched me. I simply matriculated into Christianity”; see Konrád, Zsidóságon innen és túl, 555 – 557. Literature on Vámbéry, based on similar testimonies by him and others, sometimes raises doubts concerning his conversion: Landau, “Arminius Vámbéry: Identities in Conflict,” 97; idem, “Arminius Vambéry: Traveller, Scholar, Politician,” 858, 868. It is difficult to assume that Vámbéry’s agnosticism was unknown to those involved in his conversion procedure. Ballagi served as the “witness” in that procedure.

Apostasy and Academic Promotion

45

It was rumored at that time that this was an informal condition (through a sort of gentlemen’s agreement) of his election.¹³⁴ The University of Pest, with its Catholic heritage, was even less liberal on the issue of conversion than the Academy. It was not only that successors of Eötvös as minister, and other decision-makers in matters of religion and education, usually had less patience towards and tolerance of Jews than him; the political climate had also changed.¹³⁵ Of the 35 full professors of Jewish descent appointed before Goldziher (1905) in all three universities which existed at that time in Hungary,¹³⁶ only 10 remained in the Jewish faith (six of them belonged to the University of Kolozsvár).¹³⁷ Of the rest, 20 converted to Christianity before receiving their appointments.¹³⁸ It is reasonable to assume that most of the conversions had mostly, or at least partly, opportunistic motives. Half of the 35 professors of Jewish descent (18) were employed at Goldziher’s university in Budapest; only three of them, all appointed in 1895 – 1896, remained Jews.¹³⁹ Goldziher’s appointment was chronologically the fourth appointment to a salaried professorship at Budapest University of a Jew who did not apostatize; three of the four (Goldziher, Marczali and Alexander) were members of the Eötvös group.¹⁴⁰ Within slightly over a decade after the Emancipation, social and political antisemitism had raised its head. The social pressure for conversion as a prerequisite for promotion did not cease until World War II. Immanuel Löw, one of Goldziher’s closest friends, reported in a letter to Goldziher from 1904, after the

 [Anon.], “Zsidók az akadémián.”  Kovács, “Diszkriminációtól diszkriminációig,” 170. On Eötvös’s successors as Ministers until 1903, see Bődy, Paul, Science Policies in Hungary, 53 – 102.  A Technical Institute/University was founded in 1871 in Pest, and in the next year a university was established in Kolozsvár (Cluj, in Transylvania, today in Romania); see ibid., 47– 50.  The figures given here and below are based on the data in Kovács, ed., Diszkrimináció, 152– 154.  Of the 25 converts, 18 were Catholics, 5 Calvinists, and 2 Lutherans. Two of them converted after their appointments, and three were born to already converted parents.  Of the 15 converts, 12 became Catholics and 3 Calvinists.  Chronologically the third appointment was that of László Fayer (Faculty of Law). An additional appointment before Goldziher’s was that of Gusztáv (Szászy‐)Schwarz in 1894 (Faculty of Law), but he later apostatized (in 1902). On these early appointments at Budapest University, see Egyenlőség, August 24, 1894, 4– 5 (Goldziher); September 14, 1894, 4 (Schwarz); March 15, 1895, 6 (Marczali). From Goldziher’s appointment until the dissolution (at the end of 1918) of the Habsburg Monarchy, which Hungary was part of, professorships were given to a further three Jewish converts and four Jews at Budapest University (excluding Goldziher), and to 10 Jewish converts and eight Jews at all Hungarian universities (in addition to the existing three, two universities were founded in 1912, in Pozsony/Pressburg and Debrecen).

46

II Historical and Academic Milieu

“Reception” of Judaism, in the golden age of Jewish integration in Hungary: “Hungarian liberalism [szabadelvűség]: A teacher at a higher girls’ school named Vajda (Weiner) was given by the Ministry a short deadline for apostasy, if he wishes to become director of the school in Trencsén. Next week he is going to convert to the solely salvific Roman Catholic faith. Berecz too, the famous liberal, is not better than others.”¹⁴¹

Hungarian Orientalism Goldziher was the first major historian of oriental studies (particularly its beginnings) in his home country.¹⁴² Oriental studies in Hungary go back to sixteenth century Transylvania. “Practical-diplomatic” and “theological” interests (diplomatic ties with the Ottoman Empire, and the Reformation) sparked interest in the study of Turkish, Hebrew, and other oriental languages in Transylvania¹⁴³ from the sixteenth century onwards.¹⁴⁴ Kőrösi Csoma, who was later to pioneer oriental studies in Hungary, was also a native of this land. The Oriental Academy (Orientalische Akademie, or Kaiserlich-königliche Akademie für Orientalische Sprachen), the first independent academic institution devoted to oriental studies worldwide, founded by Empress Maria Theresa in 1754 in Vienna (the Austrian capital of the Habsburg Empire), gave professional impetus and provided some institutional background for the study of Oriental languages (primarily Arabic, Persian, and Turkish) in Central Europe.¹⁴⁵ This institution also had Hungarians on its faculty and in its student body who later filled diplomatic posts and furthered oriental studies in Hungary.¹⁴⁶

 October 27, 1904; GIL/26/09/091. “Higher girls’ schools” were attended usually from the age of 11 or 12 years, for six years; Vajda (Weiller), Gyula (1868 – 1930); “Berecz” probably refers to Antal Berecz (1836 – 1908), the countrywide supervisor of these girls’ schools at that time.  Heller, Bibliography, nos. 81, 95, 100, 291. Upon Goldziher’s request, Ödön Kovács, Calvinist theologian and scholar of religion, in his letter to Goldziher (May 12, 1879; GIL/22/18/01), provided a wealth of information on Hungarian students studying Semitic languages in the Netherlands. Géza Kuun was interested, before Goldziher, in the history of oriental studies in Hungary (Goldziher, “Gróf Kuun Géza tiszt. és igazgató tag emlékezete,” 1006), but his actual contributions were much more limited than Goldziher’s. See also the latter’s memorial lectures on Renan, Fleischer, etc.  Ibid.  Goldziher, “Gróf Kuun Géza tiszt. és igazgató tag emlékezete,” 1006 – 1009.  For the beginnings of oriental studies in Austria, see Feichtinger, “Komplexer k.u.k. Orientalismus,” 38 – 40, and literature cited there.  Maróth, “Az arab nyelv tanulmányozása az európai egyetemeken,” 60 – 61.

Hungarian Orientalism

47

Apparently the Transylvanian heritage, the Turkish historical connections of the Magyars, the Austrian diplomatic context, and the achievements of Kőrösi Csoma and Ármin Vámbéry were in Goldziher’s mind when he claimed (in 1907) that Hungary as a country was suited to be one of the “prime promoters […] or at least participants” of oriental scholarship in Europe.¹⁴⁷ He made a similar statement eight years later.¹⁴⁸ Goldziher’s hopes were to come to partial fruition after his death. In some fields the contribution of Hungarian scholarship has proved to be very significant. Apart from Goldziher himself, the most widely renowned Hungarian orientalists were Sándor Kőrösi Csoma (1784?–1842), Ármin Vámbéry (1832– 1913), and Aurel Stein (1862– 1943). Internationally somewhat lesser known was Antal Reguly (1819 – 1858). All four were explorers who carried out path-breaking fieldwork, laying the grounds for future ethnographic and philological research for themselves and others—and following, in different ways and different directions, in the footsteps of Kőrösi Csoma. Kőrösi Csoma and Stein travelled to the Far East: Kőrösi Csoma became one of the founders of Tibetology¹⁴⁹ while Stein (a Jewish convert like Vámbéry) was a pioneer in Sanskritology. Reguly for his part was a pioneering scholar of Uralic languages and folklore. Kőrösi Csoma, Reguly, and Vámbéry set out on their adventurous, multi-year journeys with the aim of finding the Urheimat (the original homeland) of the Magyars, and discovering their kinfolk and language. Kőrösi Csoma set out on his long journey in 1819. He shared the frequent fate of explorers, scientists, and archival researchers: he did not find what he looked for, but his efforts were rewarded with other, unexpected findings. Taking into account the achievements of Kőrösi Csoma’s explorations and their long lasting impact, Hungarian “orientalism”—Goldziher’s own term¹⁵⁰—can be considered contemporaneous with the Science of Judaism (Wissenschaft des Judentums), the beginnings of which are commonly associated with the establishment of the Verein für Kultur und Wissenschaft der Juden in Berlin in the same year

 Goldziher, “Gróf Kuun Géza tiszt. és igazgató tag emlékezete,” 1025.  Goldziher, “Vámbéry Ármin tiszt. tag emlékezete,” 554; cf. his toned-down statement, ibid., 553. See also below, p. 58.  He studied oriental languages in Göttingen (1816 – 1818), under Johann Gottfried Eichhorn.  In his Hungarian publications, Goldziher uses the term “orientalismus” as a generic name of oriental studies; see, e. g., his “Jelentés az orientalisták IX. nemzetközi congressusáról,” 640; idem, “Indítvány a keleti tanulmányok előmozdítására,” 731; and often in his memorial address on Renan. The term was in vogue in Hungarian public discourse at least from the 1840s, designating primarily, it seems, the “oriental world/mind/lifestyle” and the like, but (at least from 1856) also in the meaning of the “study of oriental languages/antiquities/culture.”

48

II Historical and Academic Milieu

(1819), by Leopold Zunz and his friends. Beyond their indubitable role in inspiring great academic achievements, both scholarly movements were part of the struggles for the hearts and minds of a people, in the modern formation of the Hungarian and Jewish collective identities, respectively. In Judaism historical cataclysms usually led to reevaluations of the historical tradition and reconfigurations of preexisting literary canons, as had happened after the Napoleonic wars. In Hungary the decade following the crushing of the revolution and war of independence against Habsburg Austria in 1848 – 1849 gave rise to new beginnings in “national sciences”: Hungarian linguistics, history of Hungarian literature, Hungarian historiography, and folklore. This was the broader context of Vámbéry’s success and popularity. Hungarian oriental studies carved out an important place within the national sciences and in this revival, as part of a wider exploration of the ethnic, linguistic, geographic, and historical origins of the Magyars.¹⁵¹ Fieldwork and ethnographic methods were part of this endeavour from the beginning. This quest to reveal the nation’s prehistory gained a preeminent place in Hungarian scholarship. It was nurtured by an apparent lack of linguistic-ethnic relatives in geographic proximity and an acute awareness of oriental origins in Magyar historical consciousness. This quest was to remain in the DNA of Hungarian oriental studies—for better or for worse.¹⁵² Unlike in western countries, where it was colonialist interests that (directly or indirectly) served as a weighty political factor behind “orientalism” in scholarship, in Hungary it was this historicalethnological interest that emerged as the most potent ideological and political factor behind local “orientalism.”¹⁵³ Thus, Hungarian orientalism was closely related to the construction of Hungarian national identity and the debates surrounding it. The rise of liberal nationalism in Hungary sparked enthusiasm for the exploration of the historical

 The “Science of Judaism” focused on literary history, philology, and post-Biblical historiography, and quite spectacularly avoided questions of origins of the Jewish people (the Bible and the Biblical period). These were already well established fields then—and pursued, characteristically, mostly by non-Jews.  Komoróczy, “The Rabbinical Seminary of Budapest and Oriental Studies in Hungary,” 37. For the historical nationalist identity component, and the beginnings of orientalist studies in Hungary in the first half of the nineteenth century, see the pioneering survey of Staud, Az orientalizmus a magyar romantikában, 24– 39, 102– 107. There was also a significant biblicizing line in the Hungarian search for origins since the Middle Ages; see Komoróczy, ibid, 38 – 39. This whole search for origins sometimes turned into an obsession and produced bizarre mutants; for a brief assessment, see idem, “Az ókori Elő-Ázsia a pesti egyetemen,” 27– 29, 33 – 34.  Some colonial-political factors played a (relatively minor) role in Hungarian orientalism too; see below, Ch. III, “The powers that be.”

Hungarian Orientalism

49

roots of the Hungarians/Magyars, their language and culture. Medieval historical chronicles of the Hungarians/Magyars refer to “Huns” and Turkish peoples as their kin, and those peoples, living mostly in Central Asia, attracted academic and popular attention. It was Vámbéry who introduced Turkology into the Hungarian academe; in fact, he is regarded as one of the founders of this field internationally, particularly on account of his groundbreaking work on Eastern Turkic peoples and languages.¹⁵⁴ Hungarian scholarship was deeply divided, however, throughout the nineteenth century and beyond on the question of Magyar origins (ethnically and linguistically), between two schools: the “Turkists” and the “(Finno‐)Ugrists,” with various mediating positions emerging over time. The question of national “origins” was of course anything but a sterile scientific problem. Finno-Ugric peoples were small and historically “insignificant” while Turkic peoples (Huns, Turks, Tatars) on the other hand, had a more “heroic” past and built powerful empires. Hungarian nationalism fought for dominance in the Carpathian Basin, and for political sovereignty—almost unavoidably at the expense of the political aspirations of local, historically “underdeveloped” ethnic minorities. Hungarian nationalistic discourse favored the Turkish connection. For centuries a considerable number of Hungarians, especially Protestants, regarded Ottoman rule over much of Hungary (in the sixteenth to seventeenth centuries) as the lesser evil compared to the Habsburgs (and their Counter-Reformation), who eventually expelled the Turks from Hungary. Such sentiments arose or were reinforced also in the nineteenth century¹⁵⁵ (ever since, there have been forces in Hungary that preferred building alliances with “Eastern” powers rather than Western ones). Research into the origins of the Hungarians/Magyars was a politically charged subject. In World War I the Habsburg Monarchy was allied with Turkey, but even before, a Hungarian Drang nach Osten (drive to the East) had emerged since the beginning of the twentieth century, supported by a local, pseudo-academic ideology and movement called “Turanism,” searching for prehistoric relatives of Magyars, or “kindred souls,” in a variety of Asian peoples and promoting national interests along these

 Goldziher, “Vámbéry Ármin tiszt. tag emlékezete,” 545 – 547. On the beginnings of Hungarian Turkology, see Gerelyes, “The Development of Hungarian Turcology in the Long Nineteenth Century.”  Cf. ibid., 101– 102; Feichtinger, “Komplexer k.u.k. Orientalismus,” 44. Despite the fact that the latter article focuses on Austrian (“frontier”‐)orientalism and not Hungarian orientalism, this distinguishing feature of the latter, i. e., the ambivalent attitude of Hungarians to the Ottoman Empire, is noticed there.

50

II Historical and Academic Milieu

lines.¹⁵⁶ This nationalist movement, which was influential particularly in the first half of the twentieth century, was based on the supposedly common ancestry, or at least historical and geographic proximity and cultural affinity, of “Ural-Altaic” peoples in Asia and elsewhere, such as Turks, Mongolians, Finns, Bulgars, etc.¹⁵⁷ The relative, culturally loaded geographic terms of the East or the Orient in Europe always had a variety of cultural and political overtones—sometimes positive, mostly negative—even within a single country such as Hungary.¹⁵⁸ The varying uses of these terms and their negative connotations were a function of a widespread perception that peoples, cultures, or regions to the East (and South) of us are less developed and civilized than us. The meaning of East/Orient and what these terms entail varied in Hungary not only depending on the location, but also on the institutions and discourses involved. I outline below four main different contexts and institutional settings of academic (or quasi-academic) orientalism in Hungary in Goldziher’s lifetime—each one operating with its own notion of the “Orient.” Goldziher had dealings with all of them. The first discourse was the ideological and nationalistic one mentioned above. The Turkish connection, and—especially from the end of the nineteenth century—Central Asian peoples and languages, as well as Sumerian, became the main loci of Hungarian political orientalism and the popular imagination of the Orient. The other three settings can be characterized by their particular agendas and by their relation to the mentioned ideological and political context. The second scene and discourse was that of practical politics. A school for oriental languages, the Oriental Commercial Academy (Keleti Kereskedelmi Akadémia) was established in 1899—to advance Hungarian commercial and diplomatic interests.¹⁵⁹ The need for such an institution was felt already in the early 1870s, and Goldziher’s involvement with it will be discussed in the next Chapter. Oriental cultures and languages, for the purposes of this institution, meant something entirely different than it did for the origins-obsessed ideologues: in addition to Turkish and

 Kowalczyk, “Hungarian Turanism.” Ablonczy, Keletre, magyar!, 15 – 16, 21– 86; idem, Go East! A History of Hungarian Turanism (to appear).  This movement had its roots in Finland and spread to other countries such as Hungary, Turkey, and Japan.  On the various uses of this term in the Habsburg political context, cf. Feichtinger, “Komplexer k.u.k. Orientalismus,” 31– 32, 36 – 37, 53 – 58, 62.  Erdélyi, “A Keleti Kereskedelmi Akadémia és az orientalisták.” This institution was modelled after the Oriental Academy (Orientalische Akademie, 1754– 1918) in Vienna, in which Turkish, Arabic, and Persian were taught originally. This Austrian school itself followed earlier French institutional models in some respects.

Hungarian Orientalism

51

Arabic, it meant Balkan languages (Slavic ones being heavily represented among them): Serbo-Croatian, Bulgarian, Rumanian, (modern) Greek, and Russian. The third discourse was that of serious scholarship that accommodated, with various degrees of skill, enthusiasm, or reluctance, the ideological aspects mentioned previously. In 1899 an Oriental Section was established within the Hungarian Ethnographic Society and the next year an international review entitled Keleti Szemle (Oriental Review) was founded in Budapest, as a bulletin of this Oriental Section and of the Oriental Commercial Academy. This dual affiliation of the journal, as well as its opening programmatic statement (with its nationalist tone and characteristic phraseology),¹⁶⁰ characterizes the ideological and political field in which a forum like this had to position itself in contemporary Hungary.¹⁶¹ According to its subtitle, the journal covered “Ural-Altaic ethnology and linguistics.” The journal reached out to international audiences, publishing mostly in German. As a linguistic term, Ural-Altaic (which replaced the term Turanian languages used in older nomenclature), encompassed approximately what are called today the Finno-Ugric and Samoyed language families (Uralic languages), as well as the Turkish, Mongolic, and Tungusic language families (Altaic languages). The linguistic hypothesis implied by the hyphenation (namely that the Uralic and the Altaic language families are derived from a common ancestor) is no longer widely accepted. Nevertheless, the scholarly view that emerged in the 1880s (among students of József Budenz, and among them the editors of the journal) and reflected in the subtitle that linguistic ancestry is to be distinguished from ethnological ancestry, and Hungarian “origins” are related in different ways to both families of peoples, languages, and cultures, is still prevalent. The journal’s scope in fact was much wider, since it also covered “Indo-Iranian (Arian), Caucasian, Slavic, and Tibetan” topics, insofar as these peoples were in contact with “Ural-Altaic” cultures.¹⁶² The fourth discourse was “purely” academic and its institutional context was higher education. In Hungary the University of Budapest was the prime institution in the humanities. In these fields cultural policies often (particularly between the two World Wars) strong favored the so-called “national sciences” (T

 E. g. the opening sentence runs as follows: “From among the huge family of Ural-Altaic peoples, it became the calling of the Magyars to lead and be the main representative of its linguistic and ethnic kins in the cultural efforts of mankind” [Kúnos and Munkácsi], “Törekvéseink,” 1. The programmatic article was obviously authored by the two (Jewish) orientalists who served as editors of the journal (see on them below, Ch. VIII).  For subsequent institutional transformations, the fate of the Oriental Section and of the journal, see e. g. [Anon.], “Társulati ügyek,” 1– 2.  [Kúnos and Munkácsi], “Törekvéseink,” 2.

52

II Historical and Academic Milieu

137) (Hungarian linguistics, history of Hungarian literature, Hungarian historiography, etc.), and the legitimacy of orientalist chairs at Hungarian universities and research projects depended almost exclusively on their potential relevance to solving problems of Hungarian history and prehistory. In fields of oriental studies related to the Hungarian “origins,” whether on the Turkic (Altaic) or the Finno-Ugric turf, Hungarian orientalist scholars always made significant contributions. Yet beyond Goldziher, a champion of Arabic and Islamic studies, other orientalist fields also started to gain recognition at his university, from the beginning of the twentieth century. For example, a Chair for the “Ancient history of oriental peoples” was established in 1910. Its first incumbent was Ede (Eduard) Mahler (1957– 1945), an Egyptologist.¹⁶³ In this context “oriental” covered the main cultures of what was later known as the “Ancient Near East,” or “Western Asia”: Egyptology, Assyriology, and Semitics. When a new learned society (named after Kőrösi Csoma), devoted to Hungarian orientalism with a Turanic slant, was organized after World War I (1920) in an increasingly nationalistic Hungary, it was Mahler who insisted that another Oriental Society, encompassing all branches of oriental studies, should also be established. “Research with a Hungarian viewpoint would of course be the primary task” of this would-be society too, he declared.¹⁶⁴ In the wake of World War I it became increasingly difficult in Hungary to stand up for purely academic interests. Academic life could no longer resist political interference and—under the given historical and economic circumstances quite understandably—“national sciences” gained the upper hand at the expense of international scientific agendas.¹⁶⁵ Reflecting the interests of Hungarian foreign policy, an “Oriental Seminar” was established at the university in 1920, to further the study of “the Ancient East, Muslim peoples, Eastern Asia, and Eastern Europe.” Goldziher probably opposed this development, yet accepted the appointment to head it.¹⁶⁶ Oriental scholarship was gradually relegated to an ancil-

 The field of expertise of Mahler, a Jew (not a convert), was Ancient Near Eastern chronology. Due to his chair, the Ancient Near East became an integral part of historical studies at the university. See on him Komoróczy, “The Rabbinical Seminary of Budapest and Oriental Studies in Hungary,” 42; idem, “Az ókori Elő-Ázsia a pesti egyetemen,” 28 – 29.  [Anon.], “Társulati ügyek,” 4.  From the extensive literature on these issues (in Hungarian), see Simon, Goldziher Ignác, 224– 229; and (on scholarship on classical antiquity in interwar Hungary) Szilágyi, “”Mi, filológusok”,” 183 – 194.  “Seminars” (an institutional form introduced into Budapest University following German models) were tasked with promoting students’ (especially future teachers’) skills in conducting research, applying and teaching research methodologies. See Kármán, “A tanárképzés reformja,” 624; Sinkovics, ed., Az Eötvös Loránd Tudományegyetem története, 206 – 207; Szögi, “A

Hungarian Orientalism

53

lary status, subordinate to the agenda of Hungarian historiography. As for Semitic scholarship, the Turkologist Gyula Németh (1890 – 1976), a leading orientalist in twentieth-century Hungary,¹⁶⁷ demanded in 1927 that “[s]ystematic scholarship related to Semitic peoples should be pursued in our theological seminaries.”¹⁶⁸ The negative implication of this call is important for us here: general, non-denominational academic institutions need not and should not engage in Semitic studies that have no bearing on Hungarian historiography. This declaration set the tone for Hungarian scientific policies concerning this field, from the end of World War I onwards until the 1980s. As it has been observed more recently: “Linguistic and historical research on the Ancient Near East at the University [of Budapest], since the establishment of the ‘Turanian Society,’ had to define itself between two extremes—the primitive level of nationalism on the one hand, and the intellectual level: research with a national agenda and conducted with serious scientific methods, on the other.”¹⁶⁹ Nevertheless, it turned out that there was life within the university, or on its margins, outside these ideologically, politically, and financially controlled and constrained academic spaces. Accomplished scholars of international renown received positions of various sorts at the university, for generations since Mahler, particularly after World War II, in fields related to the Ancient Near East (Iranian studies, Egyptology, Assyriology, Ugaritology, etc.)¹⁷⁰ as well as in other fields of oriental studies. Both before and after World War II Goldziher was unique among Hungarian orientalists of high international stature (whose main field was not Jewish studies) in that he approached his field with a keen

pesti egyetem történelmi szemináriuma” (I thank Professor Iván Zoltán Dénes [Budapest] for drawing my attention to the last article). In Goldziher’s times “seminars” denoted small organizational units, headed by a professor with 1– 4 lower rank faculty, offering and coordinating courses of a given scholarly field. The ministerial decisions related to the establishment of the mentioned Oriental Seminar and its goals were reported in a number of Hungarian newspapers on March 31, 1920; Goldziher’s appointment was publicized in the Hivatalos Közlöny, May 27, 1920, p. 146. In a letter to Goldziher (March 23, 1920; GIL/26/09/216) Immanuel Löw comments, probably in consonance with Goldziher’s remarks in his letter to which Löw responds (unavailable to us), that the establishment of the Seminar by the Faculty “will be the peak of nonsense.”  Róna-Tas, Németh Gyula.  Németh, “Keleti filológia,” 112.  Komoróczy, “Az ókori Elő-Ázsia a pesti egyetemen,” 34.  See, for example: Hitchins, “Hungary ii. Iranian and Persian Studies in Hungary”; Kóthay, “Hungary.”

54

II Historical and Academic Milieu

interest in and deep knowledge of Judaism, while at the same time remaining essentially uninvolved in the discourse on Hungarian history.¹⁷¹

Hungarian Jewish (Orientalist) Scholarship in Goldziher’s Times Hungarian Jewish scholarship has a background of its own—and a characteristic thematic profile, notably in Jewish historiography, the history of Jewish biblical exegesis, ancient Jewish realia, talmudic philology, and folklore.¹⁷² Due to the oriental roots and presence of Judaism through the ages, the study of Judaism, almost in its entirety, forms a part of “oriental” studies, in a wider sense. Beyond these general remarks, this section will touch upon oriental studies within Hungarian Jewish scholarship in a narrower sense, insofar as they contributed to research into oriental languages apart from Hebrew and Aramaic, and to oriental literatures and history other than Jewish literature and history. I will also comment on the general attitude of Hungarian progressive Jewry to Jewish scholarship in general, since this issue had serious implications for Goldziher’s life and career. Hungarian culture and the liberal version of Hungarian nationalism was appealing to Hungarian progressive Jews. A “heroic” past, Hungarian literature, a relatively liberal political present, and the search for historical origins—all these kindled the imagination of numerous Jews. “National sciences” (i. e., national branches of learning) attracted young Jewish talents with academic ambitions, and a number of Hungarian Jewish orientalists played an important role in related fields. The Keleti Szemle (mentioned above) was, in a way, the brainchild of Goldziher. Although he was not directly involved in its planning and establishment, he had raised, as early as 1892, the idea of a Hungarian journal devoted to oriental studies, which would also be directed to the “educated public.”¹⁷³ The editors of Keleti Szemle were two (Jewish) disciples of Vámbéry: the Turkologist Ignác Kúnos (1860 – 1945), and his friend, the Finno-Ugrist Bernát Munkácsi (1860 – 1937).¹⁷⁴ Characteristically, the latter’s interest in linguistics and Hungarian origins was sparked in his childhood by a novel of the famous Hungarian writer Mór Jókai (1825 – 1904). One of the characters of the novel, who as a young His connections to Hungarian historiography are confined to a few book reviews, and his half-hearted involvement with Turanism (see Ch. III, “The powers that be”).  Turán, and Wilke, “Wissenschaft des Judentums in Hungary: An Introduction.”  Goldziher, “Indítvány a keleti tanulmányok előmozdítására,” 732.  On the latter two scholars, see below, Ch. VIII.

Hungarian Jewish (Orientalist) Scholarship in Goldziher’s Times

55

ster learns the Turkish, Persian, and Tatar languages as a preparation for his Asian expedition in search of Hungarian beginnings, was modeled after Kőrösi Csoma and Reguly.¹⁷⁵ In the next generation Ödön Beke (1883 – 1964) and Dávid Fokos-Fuchs (1884– 1977) became leading figures in Finno-Ugric studies and Hungarian linguistics in Budapest. This cohort of four Jewish scholars did important linguistic-ethnographic fieldwork. They did not convert and thus had little chance to receive university appointments in pre–World War II Hungary. Kúnos rose to a relatively senior position: he was director of the Oriental Commercial Academy while it existed. The other three spent most of their careers in educational posts in the Jewish educational system.¹⁷⁶ To amplify Goldziher’s observation concerning Transylvania, cited in the previous section, it can be asserted that oriental scholarship in Europe emerged from a combination of five factors: Biblical and theological (in particular, Protestant) research, historical critical methodologies of classical philology, historicism, romanticism, and political (diplomatic and colonial) interests.¹⁷⁷ The “Science of Judaism” (which overlaps with oriental studies) emerged from a somewhat different mixture of the same factors (in addition to oriental studies themselves from the second half of the eighteenth century), except that the “political” factor in the Science of Judaism was “domestic policy” (the struggle for emancipation) instead of “foreign policy,” as in oriental studies. Traditional humanistic disciplines in Austria and in the Habsburg Empire tended to follow the trends in the German lands. The local matrix of scholarly trends and the intellectual climate was different, however. Moreover, the driving forces behind Jewish

 Balassa, “Munkácsi Bernát, a tudós és az ember,” 62; Kozmács, The Life of Bernát Munkácsi, 30 – 31, 67; Kozmács, ed., Megvalósult gyermekálom, 20. Salamon Pál Osztern (1879 – 1944), a former student of Goldziher at the University of Pest, a scholar of Islam, a high-school teacher and a journalist, (who substituted Goldziher in 1918/19 at the university in teaching the history of Islam) was reportedly drawn to oriental studies by the same novel (Eppur si muove [And yet it moves], 1872): Piroska, “Osztern Salamon dr.,” 3. Osztern apparently translated the entire Quran into Hungarian from the original Arabic for the first time—his translation, however, has never been printed.  Only Beke (favored by the Communist regime after its takeover in the late 1940s) occupied senior academic positions in his later years, after World War II.  Naturally, widely different combinations of these factors can be traced behind individual orientalist careers and accomplishments. There were also scholars of the traveller-explorer type, whose main motivation was curiosity, and main method was empathic fieldwork. J. Feichtinger called this type “participatory” orientalism, and mentioned a few examples: “Komplexer k.u.k. Orientalismus,” 59 – 61.

56

II Historical and Academic Milieu

studies outlined previously were much weaker in Austria, and particularly, in Hungary.¹⁷⁸ The local Rabbinical Seminary was the flagship institution of Jewish research in Hungary, affiliated as it was with the sizeable and powerful progressive (Neolog) federation of Jewish communities in Hungary.¹⁷⁹ Its efforts to popularize Jewish scholarship within this community, its natural audience, enjoyed limited success, however; Jewish research met with indifference at best.¹⁸⁰ As Immanuel Löw, rabbi of the ca. 8000-strong Neolog community of Szeged, a great scholar of Semitic philology and Jewish folklore, complained to his friend Goldziher: “[…] In any case, personally I am indifferent to literary success. In my entire community there is not a single one who knows about the existence of Aramaic lexicography, and that there is Jewish literature beyond Szulamit.”¹⁸¹ The history of the Khazars—a rare intersection between oriental studies, Hungarian prehistory and medieval Jewish history from a scholarly perspective —indeed aroused more interest in the Jewish public than philological trifles. The topic also posed moot questions to a wide variety of orientalist specialists, weaving a web of difficult problems, related particularly to Central Asian peoples and languages, that are far from being settled in scholarship even today. Progressive Jews naturally adjusted themselves to the Hungarian nationalist zeitgeist and developed their own historicist orientalism, intertwined with the problem of Hungarian origins, centering around the Khazars. There was, and still is, a widely held view in scholarship (relying on medieval sources) that at least some groups among the Khazars (who ruled an empire on the steppes between the Caspian and Black Seas between the seventh and tenth centuries) adopted some form of Judaism.¹⁸² Since the proto-Hungarians were apparently

 Turán, and Wilke, “Wissenschaft des Judentums in Hungary: An Introduction,” 21.  Ibid., 9 – 15; Moskovits, Jewish Education in Hungary (1848 – 1948), 51– 53, 87– 92; CarmillyWeinberger, ed., The Rabbinical Seminary of Budapest; Thulin, Kaufmanns Nachrichtendienst, 161– 193; Komoróczy, “The Rabbinical Seminary of Budapest and Oriental Studies in Hungary,” 39 – 42.  Turán, and Wilke, “Wissenschaft des Judentums in Hungary: An Introduction,” 30.  Löw’s letter to Goldziher, Febr. 16, 1900; GIL/26/09/054. The apropos of these remarks was the publication of Löw’s additions (often critical remarks), integrated into Samuel Krauss’ Griechische und lateinische Lehnwörter im Talmud, Midrasch, und Targum (1898 – 1899) instead of publishing them independently.  This “adoption” or “conversion” took place allegedly in the second half of the eighth century or the first half of the ninth century. See Golden, “Khazar Studies: Achievements and Perspectives,” especially 7– 9, 56. For a recent, in-depth survey dismissing this theory, see Stampfer, “Did the Khazars Convert to Judaism?”. For the contributions of Hungarian scholars, see Golden, ibid., 12– 19, 48, 53 – 54.

Hungarian Jewish (Orientalist) Scholarship in Goldziher’s Times

57

in close contact with some Khazar tribes or groups during their westward migration, influential Neolog historians inferred from these theories that Jews and Judaism were present among the early Magyars since Magyars settled in Hungary. Leopold Löw, a pioneering progressive rabbi and founder of the scholarly study of Judaism in Hungary, argued in 1860 that Muslims, Christians, Jews, and Pagans held public offices in the Khazar Empire, and therefore Jews were likely already to have been de facto “emancipated” in tenth century Hungary.¹⁸³ Twenty years later rabbi-historian Samuel Kohn (Goldziher’s friend and neighbor) widely circulated these historical theories in Hungary about a Jewish presence, simultaneous with conquering Magyars, in the Carpathian Basin, and of a special, pristine Hungarian “religious” tolerance toward Jews.¹⁸⁴ Goldziher distanced himself from this “Hungarian origins” type of orientalism, but some of his students (particularly Munkácsi and Kúnos), as well as his friend Samuel Kohn, contributed to this scholarly discourse.¹⁸⁵ Leaving aside the fields that were related to this local version of orientalism, the main representatives of Hungarian Jewish oriental studies in Goldziher’s times, in addition to himself, were Immanuel Löw, Vilmos (Wilhelm) Bacher, David Kaufmann, Samuel Kohn, Ede (Eduard) Mahler, and Bernát (Bernard) Heller. Apart from Heller (who belonged to a younger generation and was a graduate of the Budapest Rabbinical Seminary), all six studied oriental languages at universities and/or at Rabbinical Seminaries outside Hungary. Within the orbit of Hungarian Jewish oriental studies, Goldziher, Kaufmann, and Heller worked mostly in Judeo-Arabic studies, Bacher in Judeo-Arabic and Judeo-Persian, Löw in a variety of oriental languages, Kohn in Samaritan studies, and Mahler mainly in Egyptology. Bacher, Kaufmann, and Heller were full professors of the Rabbinical Seminary of Budapest, but the other four were also affiliated, in different ways, with the latter institution.¹⁸⁶ Modern critical scholarship and its methodologies, as well as their role in the curriculum of the Seminary, were difficult, sensitive, and divisive issues within the Seminary and the Neolog rabbinic, scholarly, and cultural elites in general. As we will see in various parts of this book, Goldziher

 Löw, Történelmi és vallástudományi értekezések, 32– 33. Löw refers there to a Hungarian historical work published in 1852 (as well as an important medieval source on the Khazars, translated into Hungarian and published earlier), but it is likely that he relied on Cassel, Magyarische Althertümer, 12, 17, 195 – 219.  Kohn, Héber kútforrások. Jewish popular imagination immediately turned these theories into a favourite topic of local Jewish humour.  See on Munkácsi and Kúnos below, Ch. VIII.  See the survey of Patai, “The Seminary and Oriental Studies.”

58

II Historical and Academic Milieu

wholeheartedly supported the view that recent “results” and the critical methodologies of relevant fields in humanities should be in the focus of rabbinical training at the Seminary. To a large extent, Goldziher himself created and represented this standpoint within Neolog circles from the 1870s onwards, and the futility of his efforts to turn his principles into official policies of the institution was a constant source of frustration for him until the end of his life.

Goldziher’s Afterlife and Impact in Hungary The social, religious, and academic factors that shaped Goldziher’s world in Central Europe and Hungary lingered for some time after his death. Among those who carried on his scholarly legacy in Islamic and Judeo-Islamic studies and in the two generations after him, particularly in the Holy Land/Israel, many (such as Josef Horovitz, David Hartwig [Zvi] Baneth, Shlomo Dov Goitein, or Georges Vajda in France) bore the imprint of partly similar factors. It is beyond our purpose here to delineate the impact of these factors on individual scholars or to trace how these socio-cultural forces created certain patterns and “family resemblances” between these scholars and their disciples, in terms of education, scholarly values, and approaches.¹⁸⁷ It will be instructive, however, to briefly survey the fate of Goldziher’s cathedra at his university, and to comment on his disciples. Goldziher’s place was in a sense too small for him; he did not have an academic environment large and supportive enough to raise disciples in numbers that fit his stature—i. e. the type of environment that a decades-long career usually afforded to a full professor. Upon learning that a chair and a Seminar had been established for Islamic studies at Leipzig University, Goldziher lamented that Budapest would be the suitable, “central place” for such an institution (T 302, Sept. 11, 1917).¹⁸⁸ This was not to be, however.

 See in particular the panoramic view offered by Kramer, ed., The Jewish Discovery of Islam. For a recent, interesting attempt, see Morrissey, “Jewish-Muslim Symbiosis, Islamic Hellenism, and the Purpose of Islamic Studies.”  In hindsight it seems that if there was a modicum of jealousy in Goldziher’s remark, the short-lived institution in Leipzig did not deserve it. The Südosteuropa- und Islam-Institut, established at Leipzig University in 1917, was renamed Osteuropa- und Islam-Institut in 1922, and as Osteuropa-Institut in 1923. The associated Chair was filled by Richard Hartmann (between 1918 and 1922), as a “regular (salaried) non-ordinary professor” (planmäßiger außerordentlicher Professor) for Islamic studies; see Wokoeck, German Orientalism, 165, 270.

Goldziher’s Afterlife and Impact in Hungary

59

In interwar (and post-war) Hungary there was little interest in pursuing Semitic philology “for its own sake” or studying Islam with an “Islam as a civilization” approach and a broad Goldziherian horizon. Arabists with strong interests in Judaic fields (such as Martin Schreiner and Bernát Heller, both highly talented and capable disciples of Goldziher and graduates of the Rabbinical Seminary) were ineligible to fill Goldziher’s chair almost by definition. “Theologians” and “clerics” of whatever denomination as candidates would have been regarded with utmost suspicion by Goldziher himself.¹⁸⁹ The language of instruction (Hungarian) of course turned the recruitment of students and hiring of faculty from abroad nearly impossible. The pool of prospective, worthy candidates was always extremely limited. Goldziher’s successor in the chair for “Semitic philology,” Mihály Kmoskó (1876 – 1931), was a priest and an accomplished scholar of ancient Semitic and other languages.¹⁹⁰ He was also an active antisemite (and anti-Semite),¹⁹¹ from 1916 or 1917 until 1922, and played a key role in giving an anti-Jewish edge to the “numerus clausus” law introduced in Hungary in 1920, which restricted the percentage of students belonging to “races and ethnic minorities” at univer-

 In the search committee’s proposal for filling Goldziher’s chair (cited below) two candidates were mentioned by name who had been dismissed due to the insufficiency of their scholarly contributions: Sándor Büchler (Neolog rabbi, Privatdozent of Hungarian Jewish history at the university, and Goldziher’s in-law; T 218), and Aladár Hornyánszky (Lutheran theologian) who is characterized in the document as Goldziher’s “most eminent disciple in every respect.”  In the first part of his career he edited and translated Syriac texts and contributed to volumes of the Patrologia Syriaca and the Patrologia Orientalis. From about 1919 he worked on Arabic and Syriac sources related to Hungarian prehistory. Kmoskó was appointed to Goldziher’s chair in the Summer of 1923 and started teaching Arabic and Syriac from the 1923 – 1924 Spring semester. Nevertheless, right after Goldziher’s burial, the Hungarian Jewish weekly Egyenlőség already wrote that “in all likelihood,” Kmoskó will be the successor (and a worthy one) of Goldziher ([Anon.], “A nagy gyász körül,” 7– 8). On his relationship with Goldziher, see Ormos, Egy életút állomásai, 216 – 218. In the 1921– 1922 Spring and 1922– 1923 Autumn semesters the Turkologist Gyula Németh offered courses in Arabic language and literature; in the other two semesters before Spring 1924 apparently no courses were offered in these subjects. See the Bulletins of Budapest University [A budapesti Királyi Magyar Tudomány-Egyetem tanrend(j)e a (…) tanév (…)] in the respective semesters, and cf. Protocols of the meetings of the Council of the Faculty of Humanities, https://library.hungaricana.hu/hu/view/ELTE_BTK_KARI_1922-1923/?pg=155&layout=s, December 18, 1922, 12; January 17, 1923, 6  Ormos, Egy életút állomásai, 100 – 114. I use here the latter spelling in order to distinguish racial prejudices concerning Semites in general from antisemitism, which I use to denote, more specifically, anti-Jewish acts, statements, or sentiments. The boundary between the two terms or meanings are fluid of course, as is shown, in the context of this book, by the examples of Mihály Kmoskó and Ernest Renan (see below, Ch. VI, “Semitism”).

60

II Historical and Academic Milieu

sities.¹⁹² The most influential member of the ad hoc faculty committee that proposed (in May, 1923) Kmoskó as Goldziher’s successor was the Turkologist Gyula Németh,¹⁹³ one of the main advocates in the interwar period of the policy of delegitimizing orientalist studies unrelated to Hungarian historiography. The committee’s proposal of Kmoskó’s candidacy for filling Goldziher’s chair, written by Németh, highlighted and praised Kmoskó’s switching the focus of his scholarly interests from Syriac Christian literature to Muslim sources on Hungarian prehistory.¹⁹⁴ In an article written a few years later Németh highly praised Goldziher’s

 Ibid., 202– 207, 216, 218 – 224. The law implicitly regarded Hungarian Jews as a race or an ethnic minority, and effectively set a 6 % limit for the admission of Jews, corresponding to their percentage in the population. In the four decades preceding the “numerus clausus” law, the percentage of Jewish students within the student body in Budapest University, for example, varied between ca. 10 % and 50 % in the different faculties; see more detailed figures above, in the first section of the present chapter.  Besides Németh, the only orientalist in the seven-member committee was Mahler. For the procedures of Kmoskó’s appointment at the Faculty and ministerial levels, see Protocols of the meetings of the Council of the Faculty of Humanities, https://library.hungaricana.hu/hu/view/ ELTE_BTK_KARI_1922-1923/?pg=155&layout=s, June 1, 1923, 11, 14; September 17, 1923, 6 – 7. Further details can be learned from the documents of the ad hoc search committee’s proceedings in the holdings of the Archives of the Eötvös Loránd University (Faculty of Humanities), 2070/ 1922– 23. The first meeting of the committee was held on May 24, 1922. Possible candidates to Goldziher’s chair (like Kmoskó or others) were not raised or discussed in this meeting; at least there are no traces of such discussions in the protocols. The committee proposed only to find substitute teachers (without naming them) as a temporary solution (Mahler and Németh were appointed as such substitutes to the chair; see Protocols…, June 1, 1922, 6). Kmoskó’s candidacy was discussed and voted on only in the next, April 16, 1923 meeting of the committee (Ormos, Egy életút állomásai, 228 – 229 should be corrected accordingly), about six weeks after the conclusion of a parallel political investigation and disciplinary procedures at the university concerning the leaves-escapes of Kmoskó to Slovakia in the spring semester of the 1918/19 academic year, when he was Dean of the Faculty of (Catholic) Theology at the university (ibid., and 142– 163). This investigation resulted in Kmoskó’s acquittal on February 27, 1923. It is plausible that Kmoskó was the main candidate (of Németh) for the chair already at the time of the first meeting of the search committee (in May 1922), but the ongoing investigation made it pointless to formally discuss his candidacy. The memorandum of the committee, written by Németh, mentions that Kmoskó’s “political activities” (his well-known active antisemitism was obviously also meant) were rooted in his (ecclesiastical) mission to the Near East in 1916 (ibid., 64– 85), but he retired from these activities, as the memorandum says: “recently, disappointedly.” Kmoskó’s political “disappointment” and “retirement” from active and virulent antisemitism in mid-1922 (ibid., 221– 223) were likely related to the mentioned political investigation, and perhaps also to his expected candidacy for Goldziher’s chair.  Ibid. For backgrounds on this switching, see Ormos, Egy életút állomásai, 184.

Goldziher’s Afterlife and Impact in Hungary

61

scholarship, while underlining that the latter’s “life work had essentially no organic connection with Hungarian scholarship.”¹⁹⁵ After Kmoskó’s death, Goldziher’s chair was left vacant; Eduard Mahler and Vilmos Pröhle offered courses in Semitic languages. Arabic was taught by the latter. Pröhle (1871– 1946), a polyglot Oriental linguist (of Turanist convictions), was appointed to head the newly established Institute of Eastern Asia at the University in 1923.¹⁹⁶ The focus of oriental studies at the Faculty of Humanities changed dramatically with the establishment of this institute. Until Kmoskó’s death Pröhle taught only Chinese and Japanese (sometimes also classical Persian) language and literature. A self-professed antisemite, he took over Kmoskó’s Arabic courses, where the majority of his students (like those of Goldziher at the university) were students of the Rabbinical Seminary.¹⁹⁷ After Goldziher’s death (1921), Mahler became the director of the Oriental Seminar (in 1922), but despite his convictions, Near Eastern studies were rapidly pushed into the background by political orientalism. The Chair for the “Ancient history of Oriental peoples” would also not remain immune to the changing political atmosphere. After Mahler’s retirement in 1928, this Chair was left vacant.¹⁹⁸ In the 1932/33 academic year the “Oriental Seminar,” together with the Egyptian Collection of the University and the Institute of Eastern Asia, were integrated into a single institutional framework.¹⁹⁹ In terms of geographic-cum-academic nomenclature, the Near East finally became an annex to Eastern Asia, the alleged homeland of some proto-Magyar groups. After a hiatus of a decade, in 1942 the Semitist Károly Czeglédy (1914– 1996) was appointed as a lecturer to teach courses offered earlier by the Chair of “Semitic philology” at the University. Czeglédy, whose subsequent research centered around the Oriental sources on Hungarian prehistory, later called his appointment “a modest resuscitation of the Chair of Semitic philology.”²⁰⁰

 Németh, “Akadémiánk és a keleti filológia,” 92.  Turán and Wilke, “Wissenschaft des Judentums in Hungary: An Introduction,” 22 (and literature cited there); Ormos, “Adalékok Pröhle Vilmos alakjához,” 40 – 45, 49 – 50. After 1938, until his retirement in 1942, Pröhle filled this role alone. The mentioned institute, devoted to Chinese, Japanese, and Manju-Tungusic philology, was established for him for political reasons.  Ormos, “Adalékok Pröhle Vilmos alakjához,” 49 – 50, 58 – 59.  After his retirement, Mahler continued teaching his oriental disciplines until 1938. The chair (in a somewhat different institutional—and a very different political—setting) was reestablished in 1958.  Under the name Institute for Eastern Asia and Egyptian Collection. I thank Dr. Balázs IrsayNagy for clarifications on this matter.  Czeglédy Károly (1914 – 1996), 5. Already in 1939 Czeglédy was apparently slated for this position by Gyula Németh, and Lajos Ligeti (1902– 1987), an expert in Mongolian, Turkic, and Tibetan philology. Orientalist professors of the University and experts on Hungarian prehistory, the

62

II Historical and Academic Milieu

After World War II József (De)Somogyi tried to reestablish and occupy Goldziher’s chair (at the University), but his candidacy fell through.²⁰¹ The academic standing of Arabic at Budapest University was upgraded when a Department for Arabic Literature and (Muhammadan) Cultural History (later renamed as Dept. of Semitic Philology and Arabic) was established in 1958, headed by Gyula Germanus²⁰² and later by Károly Czeglédy.²⁰³ The focus on Hungarian prehistory had far-reaching implications for the fate of Goldziher’s legacy in his home country. A number of his talented students went on to become scholars of Altaic and Uralic languages and cultures. Learned societies such as the Hungarian Academy of Sciences were created as a sort of scholarly guild with their own social ceremonies. An important one of these rituals was the memorial lecture for a deceased member, given by another member (usually months or years after the funeral). Goldziher himself gave such lectures (delivered and published in Hungarian), and they represent important parts of his oeuvre.²⁰⁴ He himself was not honored by such a lecture after his death.

two had decisive influence on academic and personnel policies related to oriental studies in Hungary from the 1920s until the 1980s. The two encouraged Czeglédy to specialize in Semitics and join the research on Hungarian origins (ibid). Within a few years, Czeglédy also earned a doctorate in Turkology.  Németh and Ligeti were instrumental in thwarting his plans. Somogyi left Hungary in 1956.  Gyula Germanus (1884– 1979) taught languages (mostly Arabic and Turkic) at the Oriental Commercial Academy in Budapest from 1912. A disciple of Vámbéry, Goldziher, and Kúnos, he had an adventurous life and a colorful career. His father was Jewish; in 1909 Germanus converted to Calvinism, and later (sometime between 1929 and 1932, in India), to Islam. See Mestyán, “Materials for a History of Hungarian Academic Orientalism – The Case of Gyula Germanus.”  The establishment of this department was presumably related partly to the Near East politics of the Soviet bloc at that time. Czeglédy was full professor at the university since 1960. Without providing references, secondary literature usually gives 1963 or 1964 as the year of the establishment of the Department of Semitic Philology and Arabic. However, the annual bulletins of the University attest that a Department of Arabic Literature and Muhammadan Cultural History was established in 1958, headed by Gyula Germanus; the name of this academic unit was shortened to the Department of Arabic Literature and Cultural History in 1962. Czeglédy, who earlier was affiliated only with the Institute of Turkish Philology and taught Semitic philology and languages there, taught such courses in the framework of the latter department only from the 1963 – 1964 academic year onwards. In 1964 he was appointed as head of the mentioned Department, which was renamed as Department of Semitic Philology and Arabic in 1966.  Among these addresses (on Vámbéry, Renan, Kuun, etc.) the one on Renan was the longest and most important; it was translated into German by P. Zalán (see the bibliography).

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception In the previous chapter we took a glimpse at the social hurdles that a Hungarian Jewish scholar and orientalist had to face. The social impediments that hindered Goldziher’s career were colored, and also exacerbated, by his individual traits, outlook, and circumstances. This chapter explores Goldziher’s searches for social-intellectual belonging, mainly based on his personal reflections. The value system of Goldziher is manifested and expressed in his works focused on personalia: memorial lectures, reminiscences, obituaries, and the like. His writings belonging to these genres serve as complementary sources to his biography. The indirect insights that the author’s elective affinities and accentuations offer us in these works are often illuminating reflections of his self-perception (especially when corroborated by other evidence). In one example (and the reader will find several others throughout this book), Goldziher’s survey of correspondences between Ernest Renan and his friend, the chemist Marcellin Berthelot, provides a whole catalogue of motives that mirror Goldziher’s character, standards of behavior, and self-perception. Goldziher was interested in this correspondence for what it reveals about Renan and his friendships, and much less for what it reveals about Berthelot. He found and recorded much with which he could identify and sympathize. Despite disagreeing with Renan on a number of scholarly issues, Goldziher was highly appreciative of Renan as a man and a scholar. He highlighted with obvious empathy and sympathy Renan’s estrangement from the Catholic seminaries where he studied due to their dogmatism; his skepticism and tolerance; his patriotism; and his conservative-liberal political views.²⁰⁵ The reader also finds a remarkably detailed account of the ecclesiastic resistance to Renan’s professorship, his dignified response to it, and an expanded description of the precociousness of Renan’s son.²⁰⁶ All of these elements resonate with Goldziher’s own world view and life experience, as we will see throughout this book. Nevertheless, the diaries and the correspondences (read with some measure of criticism) remain the main sources of information available for piecing together Goldziher’s biography and for observing his reflections on his own life and personality. Some broader issues that feature prominently in the two diaries are discussed in this chapter in light of various other sources. First, however, we

 Goldziher, “Renan és Berthelot levelezése,” 171, 178, 180 – 181.  Ibid., 168 – 170, 184– 186. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285-005

64

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

must make some observations concerning these diaries themselves, and particularly on the main diary.

The Diary The main published diary revealed for posterity the tragic human dimensions of Goldziher’s career. In this diary it is an ethical-religious voice that sets the tone in the author’s reflections on his “ambitions, struggles, […] joy and pain, inner and outer crises” (T 218). This largely neglected voice can be utilized to explain some central features of Goldziher’s life and career. The diaries are difficult to read and are liable to cast a negative light on some aspects of Goldziher’s personality. Many learned admirers of Goldziher the scholar have found the main diary so disturbing or even appalling that they wished the diaries had never been published.²⁰⁷ Goldziher himself describes his stressful childhood—which he claims “was no childhood” (T 23)—as driven by a father who subjected him to a strict education from an early age, pushing him for intellectual achievement, which would, his father hoped, secure his son a better life than his own. According to Lawrence I. Conrad, “the result was that throughout his life Goldziher linked his sense of worth as a person to his scholarly achievements and thus was enormously insecure and sensitive to criticism.”²⁰⁸ Goldziher’s ego-documents reveal “a pathologically sensitive genius,”²⁰⁹ someone “possessed of a colossal ego,”²¹⁰ a difficult personality,²¹¹ with an overstrained nervous system and an inclination to melancholy.²¹² The latter two traits or symptoms are fully corroborated by his friends’ correspondences with and memoirs about him.²¹³ The diaries have invited disparate interpretations and evaluations of Goldziher’s life and character. Ignoring the social aspects of Goldziher’s troubled ca-

 See, e. g., Ullendorff, “[Review of:] Ignaz Goldziher: Tagebuch,” 553, 555.  Conrad, “A New Volume of Hungarian Essays by Ignaz Goldziher,” 367– 368.  Scheiber, “Előszó,” 12.  Conrad, “Ignaz Goldziher on Ernest Renan,” 164.  As Immanuel Löw remarked in his commemorative oration: “A man of principles, there was indeed some obduracy [könyökösség] in his character”—Löw, “Goldziher Ignác,” 306.  Cf. T 248, August 28, 1905.  See e. g. the obituary by one of Goldziher’s most valued friends and colleagues, Snouck Hurgronje, who mentioned Goldziher’s “irritable nervous system” (prikkelbaar zenuwgestel; “Ignaz Goldziher,” 459); his “mood swings of deep melancholy” (buien van dippe melancholie; 460); and describes him as “hyperirritable” (overprikkelbaar; 462); cf. idem, “Goldziher Ignác,” 106, 107, 110. See also below, in Ch. VIII, concerning Kármán and Löw.

The Diary

65

reer, Patai focused entirely on his character and personality, offering a thoroughly critical (and often less than convincing) view, tracing most of Goldziher’s maladies back to his psyche.²¹⁴ Patai’s assessment is seemingly rooted in a biased outright dismissal of Goldziher’s frequent negative personal remarks on others in the diaries as baseless. He essentially presents Goldziher as a psychopath. Simon, on the other hand, in his own interpretive work focused on the social context and showed only a slight interest in Goldziher’s personality. His English book framed Goldziher’s life and accomplishments in broad historical-social theories and concepts (such as “underdevelopment” and “uneven development”) and presented him as a paradigm (and his biography as a “paradigmatic life”) in historically backward and peripheral Hungary.²¹⁵ In a more recent article he pays more attention to the Hungarian—and particularly the local Jewish—social and intellectual milieu.²¹⁶ His overall approach relies heavily on his reading of the diaries; his hermeneutics is the exact opposite of Patai’s: an often strikingly uncritical reading with virtually boundless empathy toward Goldziher’s grievances and verdicts, and full identification with the person in his social and academic tribulations.²¹⁷

 See Patai’s introduction: “‘The Great Goldziher’: A Psychological Portrait,” in OrD, 13 – 79. He basically amplifies Scheiber’s views (“Előszó”), taking some of them to extremes. For strong objections to Patai’s views, see Conrad, “The Dervish’s Disciple,” 226 – 239; Dabashi, Post-Orientalism, 35 – 69.  Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 14– 15; 35; 55 – 56; 59; 61– 62; 67– 71, notes 5 – 7, 12, 15; 76, n. 17; 159; idem, Goldziher Ignác, 15 – 16, 22– 24, 207, 238. These concepts and theories are sometimes only vaguely and indirectly germane to Goldziher’s biography and work. For instance, Simon argues convincingly that the (generic) problem of “organic integration” of communities was of much interest to Goldziher (e. g., Ignác Goldziher, 95); yet it remains to be demonstrated, at least corroborated, that this was the central research question around which his oeuvre revolves, and that for him this problem was rooted in the Central European historical predicament. For Goldziher’s life as a “paradigmatic” one (ibid., 11, 13) cf. the citation by Schaeder quoted above, in the Introduction, p. 14. The well-known citation from an essay by the poet Endre Ady (Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 68, n. 6), on the other hand, speaks volumes about Goldziher’s social environment in his home country—its poetic truth and relevance for Goldziher’s biography need no further verification.  Simon, Goldziher Ignác, 204– 230; esp. 214– 220 on the Jewish environment. In this article (published originally in 1991) Simon admits to some “almost pathological” features (oversensitivity and paranoia) in Goldziher’s psyche (213; cf. also 220)—yet he attributes them to circumstances and peculiarities of his course of life. For some hints of Simon, in general terms, about shifts in his views, see ibid., 15, 236.  For limited exceptions, see the previous note. A more important exception, a point in the diary which Simon reads very critically (to the point of ignoring it) is Goldziher’s statements about the Jewish roots of his scholarship (see below, 93). For a rare earlier instance of a (subdued) reservation about Goldziher’s voice in the diary (diabolizing Vámbéry), see Simon,

66

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

All these understandings, as well as vignettes like “semi-peripheral” or “marginal” man, carry a grain of truth and contribute to a better understanding of Goldziher’s person, even if some of these depictions are rather vague and hypothetical. This book will offer no similar general characterizations of Goldziher; yet we will address below some controversial issues in Goldziher’s biography and self-perception. Goldziher’s reflections on his life are full of religious pathos; its keywords and dominant motifs are “martyrdom,” “self-sacrifice,”²¹⁸ and in general grumblings and self-pity. He views his life as nothing less than a continuous, heroic struggle—mainly, but not exclusively—against the Neolog establishment. Scholarship is his main weapon and only bulwark in this battle other than his family. The main diary can be read as a single, extended personal “lament psalm.”²¹⁹ Patai called attention to a certain duality in Goldziher’s personality: to the existence of a “cerebral” and an “emotional” Goldziher. According to him, Goldziher nearly qualifies as a “split personality.”²²⁰ However, if there was some duality, it seems it would be more appropriate to describe it as a tension between the “sociable” versus “solitary,” or a “diurnal” versus “nocturnal” Goldziher.²²¹

Ignác Goldziher, 193. Interpreting Goldziher’s troubles solely or mostly against the backdrop of Hungary’s historical “backwardness” implies that a hypothetical Goldziher (if we allow ourselves such a bizarre thought experiment), grown up or emigrated to a bona fide “developed” country, would have had less conflicts and frustrations with his environment, would have been a happier person, or his academic output would have been even more outstanding and influential. I doubt these implications, as I argue elsewhere in the book.  T 17, 22, 33, 91, 104, 158, 202, 205, 206, 237, 310, 105, 109, 142, 204, 307. See also his will published by Scheiber, “Goldziher Ignác” (in idem, Folklór és tárgytörténet) [557], [559]; see Appendix II.  In light of the diary, it seems 1892 was one of Goldziher’s most difficult and desperate years. A high concentration of his most grim complaints can be found in his entries on this year—the longest annual part of the diary.  Patai’s terms, OrD, 71– 73.  In the diary one finds numerous instances and expressions of Goldziher’s “nocturnal anxiety” (cf. Ps. 91:5) and there are some indications that a good part of the diary-entries, and in particular his emotional outbursts, verbal abuses, and bitter diatribes (most of these are found in the diary-part; the first, autobiographical part of the diary is much more restrained and controlled) were written in the evening and night hours. It seems that this diary (as many others) was a heavily nocturnal “diurnal” (i. e., journal, diary). A list of relevant passages: T 130 (October 1, 1891)*, 134 (March 6, 1892)*, 135 – 136 (March 22, 1892), 142 (July 27 and 28, 1892), 145 (August 18, 1892), 148 (August 25, 1892), 164 (August 24, 1893), 167 (December 31, 1893)*, 190 (April 29, 1895), 249 (March 3, 1906)*, 286 (October 25, 1915)*, 296 (February 8, 1917)*, 304 (December 31, 1917)*. Asterisks indicate that the word “evening” or “night” appears in the dating of the given entry. At one place in the autobiographical part (T 107) Goldziher writes about the Winter of 1883/84 that he found relief for his daytime sufferings only in crying

The Diary

67

In any case, there is a marked contrast between the overwhelmingly positive image of Goldziher emerging from colleagues’ and students’ recollections, and the image emerging before the reader of his diaries.²²² For someone absorbed in lofty ideals and norms difficult to live by, religious idealism and spiritualism are in fact good neighbors with desperation and misanthropy.²²³ My purpose here, however, is neither to explore this neighborliness, nor to map tensions between the “cerebral” and the “emotional,” or the “diurnal” and the “nocturnal” Goldziher. “A man is not held responsible for what he says when in distress” (bBava bathra 16b), and a tormented soul such as Goldziher may be seen as not “accountable” for his venomous tone in his diaries. Writing diaries certainly helped Goldziher to control and mitigate his frustrations and served as an outlet for his innermost emotions and thoughts.²²⁴ On the other hand, it is somewhat misleading to see only the “therapeutic” aspect of jotting down emotional outbursts²²⁵ and to take the diaries as confidential, private documents. There is a consistent and unapologetic policy, even a religious justification, behind his vilifications in the diaries, as I will show. Goldziher was ambiguous regarding the purpose of his main diary. It is abundantly clear that he wanted to keep it confidential during his lifetime, only considering a close circle of family members and friends as potential readers. Yet he did not rule out its eventual publication and left it to the discretion of his closest family members and friends to decide its fate.²²⁶ This is a fact²²⁷ that

at night and that he burns his notes written in that period. It is likely that those notes were written also at night time. Cf. also T 37.  Cf. Ormos, “The Correspondence of Ignaz Goldziher and Max Herz,” 166 – 170. The list of individuals with favorable personal recollections of Goldziher (and his human qualities) includes Bernát Heller, Carl Heinrich Becker, Abraham Shalom Yahuda, among others.  T 89: “Despise the world, despise yourself, despise the despisers” (Contemnere mundum, contemnere se ipsum, contemnere se contemni), quoted e. g. by Heinrich Heine as an old monkish maxim in his letter to J. H. Detmold on January 13, 1845; Heine, Briefe, III, no. 845, 6 – 7. Such a person is easily turned into someone “who curses himself but applies his curse to others” (bSanhedrin 106a, in relation to Bileam).  See Goldziher’s own words in T 228 (his entry of May 31, 1900, the day of his son’s suicide; Goldziher gives the date as 1899, which needs clarification). Cf. also Conrad, “The Dervish’s Disciple,” 231.  Cf. Goitein, “[Review of:] Ignaz Goldziher Tagebuch by Alexander Scheiber,” 323; Ormos, “The Correspondence of Ignaz Goldziher and Max Herz,” 170 – 171.  “I begin today to outline my autobiography, based on my previous notes and my memory. It is meant for my wife, children and the closest members of my narrow circle of friends. These sketches should be inaccessible for everyone else, as long as I am alive” (T 15; italics added). It is not entirely clear whether in starting the autobiography Goldziher planned to continue it as a diary. Therefore, one cannot dismiss the possibility that the opening note of the autobiog-

68

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

should be taken into consideration. It is his children whom Goldziher addressed as future readers most often in the diary, but he seems to have been more inclusive as time passed.²²⁸ “Only oriental man is capable of carrying such antagonisms dwelling unmediated in his soul,” remarks Goldziher, regarding a nineteenth-century Egyptian intellectual, whose combination of thorough Islamic education and modern culture he appreciated.²²⁹ One may take Goldziher as an “oriental man.”²³⁰ He may perfectly fit Heymann Steinthal’s stereotype of the “Semites,” and the “Israelites” in particular, on account of his blend of “excitability” and “earnestness.”²³¹ In scholarship²³² and in his religiosity—and especially in the relationship between the two—he, more precisely his oeuvre, did not give any indication of bifurcation.²³³ Emotional life is another matter. There may have been much tension between his “public” behavior on the one hand, and his inner conflicts and “antagonistic” feelings on the other. As mentioned in the Introduction, the interpretation of “ego-documents” warrants caution, and so is the case with Goldziher’s diaries and correspondences. We discuss here three examples. The first example is related to the Israelite Hungarian Literary Society. In his diary Goldziher complains in several places about the organizers of this society for ignoring him and pushing him out

raphy was meant originally only for that part—with its less abusive style—and not for the entire diary as we have it. Goldziher’s will, written in 1901—which is barely known and accessible even in the Hungarian original and escaped the attention of many (among them Patai, OrD, 73)—is more explicit in allowing for the eventual publication of the diary (see next note).  See Ormos, “Goldziher’s Mother Tongue,” especially 236 – 238, where this is proven on the basis of Goldziher’s will (see Appendix II). Conrad correctly observed that “the Tagebuch was written with considerable concern for a prospective audience beyond his (Goldziher’s) family circle” (“The Dervish’s Disciple,” 230), and Ullendorff (“[Review of:] Ignaz Goldziher: Tagebuch,” 553) made a similar observation, but their evidence is partly flawed.  In T 55, only his children are mentioned as potential readers; only his children are mentioned (or addressed) explicitly, without excluding others, in T 91, 97, 111, 116, and 132; his children are mentioned as the “first and foremost” recipients in T 79, 218; and unspecified readers are mentioned or addressed in T 103, 148, 168, 214, and 250.  “Muhammedán utazókról,” 131. See also T 43.  Cf. also the last section of this chapter. As for his outward appearance, the diary records two instances when he was taken to be an oriental man (an Arab or a Turk) by fellow travellers on the train: T 143 (August 7, 1892), 185 (August 31, 1894).  Steinthal, “Die Stellung der Semiten in der Weltgeschichte,” 56 – 59. For similar characterizations and related contrastive conceptual pairs of traits, see Jellinek, Der jüdische Stamm, 15 – 18, 221.  Becker, “Ignaz Goldziher,” 222.  Cf. A zsidóság lényege, 100, 112.

The Diary

69

from its inner circles.²³⁴ Literature on Goldziher credits him with raising the idea of establishing such a society in 1884 (ten years before its actual establishment in 1894), and he himself made a similar claim in the diary.²³⁵ However, in an 1881 letter to Immanuel Löw, in which he encouraged Löw to engage in popularizing modern critical Biblical scholarship in Hungary, Goldziher remarks that such an endeavor would be “worth much more than those fanciful ‘Jewish-Hungarian literary ([self‐]advertising) societies’ that are planned now by our holy ones in Budapest.”²³⁶ In light of this remark it seems that although Goldziher was probably the first scholar of stature among Hungarian Jews to give greater publicity to the idea (along with a vision of such a society’s mission), he may not have invented the very idea of establishing such a society.²³⁷ His complaints in the diary concerning the Society are also put in a different light by József Bánóczi’s letter to Goldziher, which imply that as early as 1888 it was Goldziher who broke, rather forcefully, with this undertaking and its organizers—above all with Bánóczi himself, a highly acclaimed editor and a well liked person.²³⁸

 T 160 (June 20, 1893), 162 (August 3, 1893), 166 (December 11, 1893), 169 (January 14, 1894), 171 (March 13, 1894), 197 (November 12, 1895); cf. also T 224 (November 8, 1899).  T 160; June 20, 1893. Goldziher raised the idea in his article titled “Népszerű irodalmi vállalat.” The society was established only in 1894; see Heller, “Bánóczi József és az Izraelita magyar irodalmi társulat,” 81– 82.  Scheiber, “Goldziher Ignác levelei Löw Immánuelhez.” The letter is dated November 10, 1881.  It should be noted that when the society actually came into being, its program (see Ch. IX, “Loyalty”) differed significantly from that of Goldziher’s original vision presented in 1884, according to which the primary task of this society would have been to translate “Jewish theological classics of world literature” into Hungarian. He did not mean medieval classics, but rather classics of modern Jewish scholarship. Thus, Goldziher’s programmatic article apparently was a result of appropriating the idea of the society as a framework, on the one hand, and filling it with a new content on the other. This new content or purpose was essentially the one expressed in his letter to Löw (then in opposition to contemporary plans for the establishment of the society): popularizing modern critical Jewish scholarship.  This rupture occurred in the wake of the scandal about the Hungarian prayerbook published by Immanuel Löw; see Ch. VIII, on Löw. The conflict did not die away quickly, although Bánóczi (“Ki volt Goldziher Ignác?”) remembered only “one or two years of estrangement” between them. Currently it is unclear to what extent Goldziher’s move held up this initiative after 1888, and to what extent he and others considered him as the “project initiator” with certain rights and duties. An editor and a literary scholar, Bánóczi was a central figure in Neolog cultural activities and indispensable in the efforts of this society in particular. It came as no surprise therefore that when Goldziher conditioned his participation in future activities of the Society (T 166) on the removal of Bánóczi from its brain trust, they preferred the latter to the former and refused to fulfill Goldziher’s condition. In 1894 Bánóczi became one the founders of the so-

70

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

The second example is related to various aspects of Goldziher’s employment at the Jewish Community of Pest. It is methodologically problematic to rely on Goldziher’s diaries as the sole source of information even on more factual or “objective” matters, such as his employment, activities, and working conditions as a chief secretary of the Neolog Jewish community of Pest (his main workplace for almost 30 years). Goldziher’s complaints about his “humiliation” and “slave work” there constitute a significant portion of the diary.²³⁹ There is no doubt that these complaints not only subjectively reflect his experiences, but also, in many cases, quite reliably depict the actual behavior of the colleagues and superiors about which he complains. Nevertheless, external evidence suggests that some of his recollections are—unsurprisingly—selective and biased, and not only on the issue of “time-management,” namely that his employment left him no time for scholarly pursuits except in the evenings and during his five or so weeks of annual summer vacation. This oft-repeated complaint is taken at face value in Goldziherology almost without exception.²⁴⁰ Currently we have only a limited amount of direct documentary evidence of Goldziher’s activities as chief secretary. Nevertheless, the impression created by the diary that Goldziher was an underdog and basically uninterested in community affairs (except educational matters) seems to be an oversimplification that may only reflect Goldziher’s mood and attitude towards community affairs from 1890 onwards, at the time of his writing the diary (and its memoir section). In his memoirs Lajos Szabolcsi, editor of the Hungarian Jewish (Neolog) bi-weekly Egyenlőség, states that under Moritz Wahrmann’s presidency of the Pest Jewish Community (1883 – 1892), Goldziher was “the first fighter of the movement that strove for the hegemony of the Pest Jewish Community [against the Neolog National Bureau]. Moreover, although he [Goldziher] later left the community downhearted, his teaching ultimately became reality.”²⁴¹ According to Szabolcsi,

ciety, later one of its pillars, also the editor of its yearbooks between 1897 and 1918 (together with Bacher between 1897 and 1899).  Numerous relevant citations from the diary can be found in literature on Goldziher (see, e. g., Haber, Zwischen jüdischer Tradition und Wissenschaft, 158, 169 – 170, 180 – 181, 184– 185; Patai, OrD, 31– 36), and I see no point in elaborating on this issue here.  See Conrad’s doubts (referring also to Patai) in his review of Haber, Zwischen jüdischer Tradition und Wissenschaft, 328, and the conflicting reports cited by Schorsch, “Beyond the Classroom,” 132, 134– 135. It is unclear what was Goldziher’s daily or weekly workload, officially and de facto.  Szabolcsi, Két emberöltő, 41. By virtue of his profession, Szabolcsi was an absolute insider to the affairs of the Neolog Jewish community, and his scattered remarks on Goldziher in his generally very valuable memoir also attest to his familiarity with the particulars of Goldziher’s life.

The Diary

71

Goldziher supported Wahrmann “with full force” in these efforts; indeed Szabolcsi calls the period of Wahrmann’s presidency the “Wahrmann-Goldziher regime.”²⁴² Goldziher assumed a powerful position within the community, and in the diary he recorded with pride the reforms he introduced in Jewish education. Bernát Munkácsi (a close colleague of Goldziher in the Jewish community) recalled, concerning Márton Schweiger, who was formally the supreme administrator in charge of education within the community and at the same time president of the Neolog “National Bureau,” that Schweiger followed Dr. [Chief Rabbi] Kohn and Goldziher’s advice in every issue of some importance. He greatly appreciated scholarly pursuits, and I witnessed several times his respect toward Goldziher, which was close to self-humiliation. He [Schweiger] was fond of mentioning that when Mór [Moritz] Wahrmann, the president [of the Pest Jewish community] sometimes was mean to Goldziher, demonstrating his power, he [Schweiger] used to reproach “his friend Moritz” with these words: “We will be long gone and our names forgotten, while the name of this man will still live on gloriously.”²⁴³

These recollections make it clear that the diary should be read with a bit of skepticism as a source on Goldziher’s working conditions and atmosphere.²⁴⁴ The third example is his common claims that he accepted certain honors only in order to bring honor to his “tribe” or coreligionists,²⁴⁵ or that he yielded to certain honorable scholarly requests and invitations only under pressure.²⁴⁶ The diary also records numerous honors and invitations that Goldziher declined. Obviously it is impossible for us to reconstruct the complex set of considerations that led him to make a given decision in a particular situation. However, it is fair to generally say that while Goldziher’s reflective comments of the mentioned type certainly indicate his self-perception, values, and priorities, they are misleading insofar as they tend to conceal his obvious and strong drive for approval

 Ibid., 43. “Wahrmann-Goldziher regime”: ibid. 42, cf. 51 and 330.  Munkácsi, “Pályám kezdete,” 60; it is also quoted by Scheiber, “Goldziher Ignác” (in Goldziher Ignác, Az iszlám kultúrája), 1073.  As correctly observed already by Scheiber, ibid.  See his comments on his election as an ordinary member of the Academy (T 138, May 7, 1892), on his American journey (T 238 – 239, September 1, 1904), on his election as Section President in the Academy (T 243, May 9, 1905), and on his election as Faculty Dean (T 298, 303, June 1 and September 14, 1917; the latter entry is cited above in the Introduction). Cf. within the Jewish community, mutatis mutandis, his comments on the invitation to succeed Kaufmann in teaching religious philosophy at the Rabbinical Seminary (T 225 – 226, February 4 and 15, 1900) (cf. Scheiber, “Előszó,” 13 – 14). 246 See, e.g., T 133–134 (March 5, 1892); Goitein, ‫"גולדציהר לפי מכתביו )ממכתבי גולדציהר אל‬ "(1921–1901 ‫ פוזננסקי בשנים‬.‫ א‬.‫( ש‬in what follows: Goitein, “Goldziher”), 9, 16.

72

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

and recognition, which ultimately played a role in his accepting the honors and invitations that gave occasion to these comments.

Sense of Superiority In Goldziher’s grievous fulminations, prophetic idealism is mixed with personal remorse, and it is difficult to see which of the two dominates the other. “Moravian” and “Polak” (Polish) are his standard derogatory epithets for Jews of the Hungarian Jewish establishment. The overwhelming majority of Hungarian Jews originally came from these two regions: Moravia and Galicia (in Poland). Thus, Goldziher’s disparaging language (and its frequency) must be seen against the backdrop of his Sephardic and German-Jewish ancestry and identity.²⁴⁷ In a letter to Abraham Shalom Yahuda, who had just finished his series of lectures in Madrid (and who later moved there from Berlin to assume a professorship), he writes on March 31, 1914:²⁴⁸ I would not like to see you as an Ashkenazi (I do not see myself as one, despite the fact that I come from Hamburg), keep on being what you are: a Sephardi. Whatever Jews possess in terms of religious culture is of Sephardic origin. Everything is connected to Jeh. Halevi and Maimonides. Mendelssohn is unthinkable without this connection. Remain a Sephardi and a champion of a Sephardic Renaissance.

The expression of “Sephardic supremacy” is unmistakable here, beyond the relaxed, gratulatory tone of the letter. Goldziher is a relatively late representative of those nineteenth-century Jewish scholars and other intellectuals (primarily in Central Europe) who became enchanted with Sephardic culture for its rationalist spirit and openness to the surrounding, and largely Islamic, cultural environ-

 See Introduction, “Two Life Résumés.”  The text of the postcard is as follows: “Lieber Freund! Mit freudiger Empfindung beglückwünsche ich Sie zu dem schönen Erfolg, den Sie mit Ihrer prächtigen Vorlesung erlangst haben. Wir haben sie mit grossem Genuss gelesen und sie wird Ihnen baldigst zurückgesandt werden. Richten Sie die Vorlesungen zu ein, daß Sie deutsch in Druck erscheinen können. Was werden nun Ihre Berliner Freunde zu alledem sagen? ‫אצבע אלדים הוא‬. Ich habe Sie immer ungern als ‫ אשכנזי‬gesehen (ich selbst halte mich auch für keinen, trotzdem ich aus Hamburg stamme), jetzt bewähren Sie sich als ‫ ספרדי‬der sie ja sind. Was die Juden an religiöser Kultur haben, ist sefaradischen Ursprungs. Alles knüpft an Jeh. Halevi und Maimuni an. Mendelssohn ist ohne diese Anknüpfung nicht denkbar. Bleiben Sie nun ‫ ספרדי‬und Vorkämpfer einer sefaradischen Renaissance” (Arc Ms Var Yah 38, National Library of Israel; reproduced here with the permission of the Library). Emphases in the original.

Sense of Superiority

73

ment.²⁴⁹ They saw in it a viable model for Jews in the matrix of emancipation—an alternative to Ashkenazic culture, which had grown increasingly insular in the generally more hostile medieval Christian context.²⁵⁰ Yahuda, probably the only Sephardic-Oriental Jew among Goldziher’s disciples and colleagues, was the person to whom such loyalties could be disclosed.²⁵¹ This German-Sephardic-Enlightenment sense of superiority of Westjuden over East European Jews (Ostjuden) is what permeates the diary. The letter cited above is a small but explicit indication that Goldziher’s attraction to Islam should also be seen in light of the orientalizing trends in German and Central European Jewish and non-Jewish culture. Besides this sense of group superiority, in his Jewish environment Goldziher also harbored a sense of individual superiority of an ethico-religious kind. I think this self-righteousness is important for understanding his statements in the diaries that echo anti-Judaic clichés and antisemitic tropes.²⁵² Negative stereotypes about Jews uttered by a Jewish “millionaire” prompted Goldziher on at least one occasion to think about Jewish racial characteristics and their role in his own spiritual development. He came to the conclusion that his aim always was to root out “the flaws and vices of [his] race” from his soul, while developing and reinforcing its great potential virtues (T 134– 135; March 9, 1892). Goldziher’s captivation with “prophetic” ideals and his own quasi-prophetic posture²⁵³ and relentless religious idealism were all both a result and source of his acute antagonism and hate towards certain Jewish “types,” groups, and religious mentalities. This sense of mission and superiority (often correctives and counterweights to a sense of persecution and inferiority) need to be recognized in his sweeping generalizations and blaming of these groups and mentalities, primarily for “money flaunting,” religious hypocrisy, and ultimately for his own “slavery,” which obstructed his Jewish agenda and blocked his academic career.²⁵⁴

 Cf., however, the remarks on S. Heschel’s “de-orientalization” thesis in the Introd., “Fleeing from God to God.” The mentioned enchantment and the “Sephardic Mystique” were closely related to orientalizing trends in Western Europe in the second half of the eighteenth and the first half of the nineteenth century. See Efron, German Jewry and the Allure of the Sephardic; Schapkow, Role Model and Counter-model; and the next note.  See Schorsch, “The Myth of Sephardic Supremacy,” who surveys Sephardic-orientalizing trends in liturgy, architecture, literature, and scholarship; and see especially 57– 58, 62 on Heinrich Heine (himself partly of Sephardic origin, it seems). See also Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 91.  See also Yahuda, “Goldziher,” 226.  See, e. g., T 152 (September 20, 1892), concerning David Heinrich Müller. Cf. Patai, OrD, 62– 63, 67; Haber, Goldziher, 182– 183.  See especially T 164; August 24, 1893, and the citation in Ch. VI, “Blessing and Curse.”  See, for example, ibid.

74

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

Besides Wahrmann (Goldziher’s “boss” at the Pest Jewish community) the primary targets of Goldziher’s hateful name-calling in the diary were Jewish orientalist professors, including Bacher,²⁵⁵ Kaufmann (both of the local Rabbinical Seminary), David Heinrich Müller (of the University of Vienna), and Vámbéry. However, this name-calling was also a function of his career-problems: it came almost to a halt in 1905 when Goldziher finally received his appointment as full professor.²⁵⁶

The Powers That Be Goldziher’s political views and behavior, and their shifts over time, are themselves interesting subjects. They gain additional importance if we also consider the potential implications of his political-social attitudes to his scholarly program. What about Goldziher’s public activities outside his narrow, scholarly circles? How did he relate to the general (non-Jewish) political, intellectual, and academic elites and establishments of his country? Did these relations change over time? As for the academic sphere, the diaries offer much material to answer these questions, but regarding the intellectual sphere they offer much less, and on general politics very little. His Hungarian publications and other documents help us to round out the picture, but this picture is ambiguous, as we will see,

 Bacher was not only his close friend in their youth, but Goldziher’s niece became his (second) wife (T 106). On Goldziher’s hate for and despising of Bacher, see Scheiber, “Előszó,” 11– 12; Patai, OrD, 45 – 50. In 1886 Goldziher still published a warm review essay on Bacher’s six publications on the eleventh-century Jewish grammarian Abū al-Walīd Marwān Ibn Janāḥ: “Abulvalid.” In 1907, when Bacher was about to be appointed as Rector of the Rabbinical Seminary, doubts were raised in the Board of Governors whether Bacher possesses a proper rabbinic diploma. Despite the absurdity of this objection, Bacher produced his diploma (from the Breslau Rabbinical Seminary), and the board apologized toward him. The troublemakers were not named in the protocols of the board meeting, but A. Scheiber, who published its relevant part and is usually a reliable source of information, asserted categorically that Goldziher and Samuel Kohn were behind this attempt; Scheiber, “Bacher Vilmos ébresztése.”  Goldziher’s invectives against Bacher did not cease after 1905 (they were still colleagues at the Rabbinical Seminary), but his former insults and allegations against him were replaced by milder slurs, often applied collectively to Seminary-circles. The reconciliation with Kaufmann came much before 1905; see below, “Estrangement from Jewish scholarship.” Müller became a Privatdozent in 1877, non-ordinary professor in 1880, and ordinary professor in 1885 (Wokoeck, German Orientalism, 283). For the single (relatively mild) attack on him after 1905, see T 260 (September 20, 1892). For Vámbéry, see Ch. VIII.

The Powers That Be

75

and it is doubtful that a wider exploration of source materials (including new discoveries) would fundamentally alter this conclusion. Let us start with general politics. The actions of Eötvös’s successors and of Budapest University, who for decades sabotaged his appointment, was a slap in the face for Goldziher, a progressive Jew in the liberal aftermath of the Austro-Hungarian Compromise. However, it does not seem that this disappointment shook Goldziher’s loyalty to Hungarian nationalism (which he shared with other Hungarian progressive Jews)—certainly not until the mid-1870s. In a popular study on the religious development of ancient Judaism, he remarks that after biblical prophetism, which centered around the Jewish national idea, historical development […] turned the nationalist idea in a different direction within religion. Any denomination in this great homeland [Hungary] can possess moral value only to the extent that it takes part in enriching the content of common national life and to the extent that it develops and strengthens ideas that identify with Hungarian national life in those taking part in denominational life and seeking spiritual nourishment in it. Thus the denomination cannot be an institution or association that renders new vitality to the spirit of separatism again and again, but it should be a school in service of the Hungarian national idea, in which those who belong to it grow in their nationalist identity and learn to place this identity in the center of their lives and interests. Let the stronger teach this to the weaker!²⁵⁷

Subsequent chapters of the book will outline the philosophical-“historiosophical” underpinnings of Goldziher’s Hungarian patriotism or nationalism, and how ancient Israelite nationalism was transcended, in his view, in the development of Biblical and post-Biblical religion. It will also be shown how loyal he remained to the credo expressed in the quoted political caveat—which formed the closing passage of his article. I am not aware of any private writings or publications of Goldziher in which he explicitly relates to domestic Hungarian politics. Similar to most Hungarian Jews, and particularly Neologs, during World War I he strongly identified with both the Austria-Hungary cause and the Central Powers. In particular, he attacked England in some semi-popular fora.²⁵⁸

 Goldziher, “A vallásos eszme fejlődése a régi hébereknél,” 365 – 366. Italics in the original. “Stronger” and “weaker” refer here probably to members of his denomination, but even the interpretation that the “stronger” are patriotic Jews who should teach Hungarian patriotism-nationalism to non-Jewish Hungarians and ethnic minorities (i.e., the “weaker”) fits the context.  Goldziher, “Válasz ‘A háború és a tudósok szolidaritása’ körkérdésre,” 613 – 614; idem, “Vámbéry Ármin tiszt. tag emlékezete,” 552– 553.

76

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

In his scholarly papers he generally avoids political overtones. His early study on the “problem of nationality among Arabs” thematizes an issue that, mutatis mutandis, was one of the most pressing historical and political problems in the Austro-Hungarian Dual Monarchy for Hungarians, including Hungarian Jews. In the paper, however, which gives a historical overview of opposing forces and attitudes in the medieval Islamic Near East concerning tribal, ethnic, national, and regional identities, the reader finds no allusion to local contemporary issues.²⁵⁹ Yet, one does find a few subjective or judgmental statements, which, even if unrelated to the Hungarian scene, shed some light on Goldziher’s general mindset on nationalism at that time. He appreciates Muhammad’s novel “cosmopolitan” idea from a religious point of view,²⁶⁰ but on medieval Arab nationalism he comments: Islam and Arab patriotism have grown together to the extent that a good Muhammadan did not even consider the possibility that my nationality depends on my mother tongue and homeland and not on the origins and homeland of the founder of my religion! Only a few were brave and self-conscious enough to not deny his own ethnic origins [nemzetiség]. Some of them could manifest their bravery only at the expense of martyrdom, in times when Arab fanaticism was in step with Islamic orthodoxy.²⁶¹

Goldziher sides with those Muslims who stick to their own ethnic origins and nationality when threatened by an overwhelming, superimposed external Arab nationalism. Of course, proud Hungarian readers could have felt encouraged by this passage to stand up against Austrian oppression and Germanization. Accultured, patriotic Jews also could find support here for their stance, against Jewish ethnicism. Conversely, maybe even proud Jewish “ethnicists” could have found inspiration in the cited sentences to resist Hungarian “fanatical” nationalists. I would be reluctant to take this passage as a message concerning contemporary affairs.²⁶² Beyond the historically contingent sensitivity of the author to the problem (also expressed by the title of his paper) and maybe one or more of the mentioned possible allusions, his publications on this matter (in the context of shuʿū-

 Goldziher, “A nemzetiségi kérdés az araboknál.”  “A nemzetiségi kérdés az araboknál,” 3 – 4, 12, 37.  Ibid., 34, cf. 14.  It is interesting that in one letter Goldziher himself confesses to a local-regional identity: a “Transdanubian” nationality (Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 61). Elsewhere (T 235, 255) he refers with pride to the Transdanubian city (Székesfehérvár) where he was born. Cf. also his “A nemzetiségi kérdés az araboknál,” 34, n. 3.

The Powers That Be

77

biyya), including his expanded treatment of the subject in German,²⁶³ basically avoided contemporary Hungarian (or European) political overtones and subjective remarks.²⁶⁴ In vain one looks for significant “nationalist” or other preconceptions or hidden agendas (liberal or other) in his notion of “Arabic literature.”²⁶⁵ However, his liberal nationalist outlook, prioritizing the “common good” of the nation, informs his explicit value judgments in this field (as in others), at least in his report on his book-acquisitions on behalf of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, written in the 1870s.²⁶⁶ Goldziher often complains about the “pitifulness” of intellectual and scholarly social life in Hungary. Almost 20 years after the fact, he recollects with bitter criticism his social experiences with influential intellectual circles after his return to Pest from Vienna in 1872: “There was no part in social life to which I could join. Cliquishness flourished” (T 51). Full of contempt, he elaborates on two major academic and literary “cliques” and their leading personalities. Ex-

 Muh. St. I, 147– 216, cf. also 101– 146.  For a different view, see Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 76, n. 18; 90; 95. His view, as well as that of Roy P. Mottahedeh on Goldziher’s alleged motivation and bias in his treatment of this issue (for Mottahedeh’s views, see Larsson, “Ignaz Goldziher on the shuʿūbiyya,” 369 – 370), are purely hypothetical; Larsson’s dismissal of Mottahedeh’s claim (ibid., 370), though, is based on historical misconception.  According to Mestyan (“Ignác Goldziher’s Report on the Books,” 443, 452– 453), Goldziher’s report on the acquisition of Arabic books on behalf of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, and in particular his inclusive notion of “literature” and his delineation of an “ideal canon of the Arabic national corpus,” applies the Hungarian and German “liberal technique of constructing the nation in literature.” Goldziher’s inclusive concept of “literature” has no parallel in traditional Arabic or in Islam. However, as Goldziher clearly says elsewhere, “what we call broadly ‘Arabic literature’ cannot be regarded as a national literature; it is the literature of Muhammadan peoples.” It is an “international” literature defined by its language, a “literary” language (classical Arabic)—similar to medieval and post-medieval Latin literature (“Arabok,” 905 – 906). Moreover, although Goldziher adds that Arabic literature that survived from before the rise of Islam is “the product of the intellectual life of the Arab nation” (ibid., 906), he does not consider literature as a central or constitutive element of this (imagined?) nation or identity, neither there (concerning the pre-Islamic period) nor in his Report. Although the cited article of Goldziher was written almost 30 years later than the Report, I think his notions at the time of writing the Report were no different. Cf. also the editorial remarks of Kinga Dévényi in Goldziher, A klasszikus arab irodalom története, viii–x. In the sentence of the Report cited by Mestyan as crucial evidence for his claim, the force of the expression “national literature” (455; 70 in the original) is not inclusion (of medieval religious texts into “Arabic” or “Egyptian” “national” literature), but exclusion (of French and other “Western” texts of dubious value from the program of a state-funded printing house).  Goldziher, “Jelentés a M. T. Akadémia könyvtára számára Keletről hozott könyvekről,” esp. 69 – 70 (Mestyan, “Ignác Goldziher’s Report on the Books,” 455 – 456).

78

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

hibiting his characteristic self-perception, he declares “my character of course prohibited me from joining any of these cliques” (T 52). Nevertheless, from his report, written with a touch of apology, the reader learns that he did in fact join these circles, at least for a certain period, and was embraced by them. Moreover, passages such as “I had no real support among the reigning powers of the Hungarian orbit; I felt myself strong due to my former relations to my deceased mentor [Eötvös], whose brother-in-law was the current Minister [Trefort]” (T 53) raise questions. For example, did he consider the mentioned circles’ cliques when he initially socialized with them? Did this term perhaps simply denote influential circles that (in retrospect) seemed too exclusive for him and not sufficiently supportive or appreciative of him? He was also part of, and collaborated with, other influential social-academic circles from the late 1860s to the late 1890s.²⁶⁷ Beginning in 1905 he filled important positions at the Academy and the University.²⁶⁸ Favoritism and reciprocal favors were key in Hungarian society, and Goldziher adjusted to this reality; he did not refrain from using his influence with high ministry officials to advance his son’s career (T 261– 262; August 3, 1908). Goldziher was neither a pariah nor a non-conformist. His most frequent encounters with social elites occurred when and where academic life and politics overlapped. From time to time, the “powers that be” reached out to Goldziher and solicited his expert opinion on, or support for, certain initiatives. Let us briefly examine the most significant such initiatives. In December 1871, Member of the House of Representatives Ignác Helfy proposed to establish an Oriental Academy to promote Hungarian diplomatic and commercial interests, referring to the “particular cultural mission” of the Hungarian nation and “its calling to mediate between the Eastern and the Western civilizations, being an Eastern people in the midst of Europe.” In the summer of 1872, Minister of Religion and Education Tivadar Pauler requested Goldziher’s expert opinion on the establishment of an Oriental Academy to train personnel for diplomatic service, and Goldziher submitted his detailed opinion within a few weeks.²⁶⁹ While this document is apparently lost, a local periodical pub-

 For example, he sought and enjoyed the friendship and “protection” of Mór Ballagi and Protestant theologians and institutions associated with him, and collaborated with these circles (T 27, 29, 34, 51, 53, 128); he was also part of Pál Gyulai’s circle and a collaborator of his monthly Budapesti Szemle (T 249, 263).  T 243; May 9, 1905; T 256, April 30, 1907.  T 54 (referring also to Helfy’s interpellation); see Pauler’s handwritten letter to Goldziher from June 10, 1872, GIL/33/18/01. This letter is quoted almost verbatim in [y. z.], “A magyar keleti akadémia ügye,” 380.

The Powers That Be

79

lished a summary of it.²⁷⁰ Beyond providing a historical survey of similar institutions in the West, Goldziher argued that this training program should be established within the university framework. He underlined the potential benefits of the program to Hungarian Oriental scholarship, which would continue the accomplishments of “our Vámbéry and [Kőrösi] Csoma.” He put forth that Turkish, Persian, Arabic, and Modern Greek should be taught in the program. Moreover, two years of formal university studies of one of the oriental cultures at the Faculty of Humanities, and other subjects at the Faculty of Law, should be augmented by a “practical course” affiliated with the university that covers spoken oriental and Western languages as well as the history and literature of oriental peoples.²⁷¹ The proposal, and the inclusion of Modern Greek in particular, illustrates Goldziher’s readiness and skill to accommodate political will and the interests of the authorities while promoting academic interests, specifically in a case where they fully aligned with his own interests. Through an extended preparatory and planning process, important elements of this blueprint were accepted by Minister Trefort in 1880,²⁷² but when the Course for Oriental Languages opened (in the 1883 – 1884 academic year), teaching Turkish, Romanian, and Serbian, its parent institution was the Commercial Academy and not Budapest University. In 1891 the course was developed into a Course for Oriental Commerce (a semi-independent institution affiliated with the Commercial Academy), and Bulgarian and Modern Greek were added to the languages taught.²⁷³ In a sharp deviation from Goldziher’s approach and proposal, the geo-cultural and linguistic orientation of these schools were determined overwhelmingly by commercial interests:²⁷⁴ “Oriental” here meant Turkish plus Balkanic and Southern Slavic peoples and languages. Still, Goldziher expected to be consulted, and in a diary entry from 1891 he resents that the Ministry involved him in neither the preparatory discussions nor the implementation: “In 1872 Pauler, then minister, still sought

 [y. z.], “A magyar keleti akadémia ügye.” It was probably Goldziher himself who submitted his written opinion to the periodical (with which he was affiliated), in order for them to publish a summary of it.  [y. z.], “A magyar keleti akadémia ügye,” 382– 383.  See Trefort, “Jelentés a Képviselőházhoz.”  Schack and Vincze, A kereskedelmi oktatásügy fejlődése és mai állapota Magyarországon, 396 – 397; Szögi, “A Keleti Kereskedelmi Tanfolyam és a Keleti Kereskedelmi Akadémia története,” 15 – 16.  Erdélyi, “A Keleti Kereskedelmi Akadémia és az orientalisták,” 35 – 38, 44.

80

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

an expert opinion from a 22-year-old concerning an ‘Oriental Seminar.’ The 41year-old is ignored as if he does not exist” (T 129).²⁷⁵ Let us turn to Goldziher’s behavior in quasi-colonial and quasi-imperial Hungarian contexts. Austria-Hungary occupied Bosnia-Herzegovina in 1878 and annexed it in 1908.²⁷⁶ The colonial government had to provide services for nearly half a million Muslim subjects. Having this minority in mind, in 1895 Goldziher asked for an audience with Gyula Wlassics, the Minister of Religion and Education, and proposed him that the Ministry organize (and subsidize) a regular course on “the institutions of Islam” at the Faculty of Law at Pest University (T 191– 192; July 4– 5, 1895). The Minister was not enthused but asked him to submit a written proposal. Goldziher did not comply; he wanted to avoid the impression that he acted out of selfishness. He also remembered the uproar within the Faculty of Humanities 20 years earlier upon Goldziher’s application to Minister Trefort for a tenured position at the university, bypassing the university chain of command (T 77– 78). This in itself was sufficient reason for him to withdraw and refrain from documenting his idea. In the diary Goldziher wrote that for years he was obsessed with the idea of the course that he proposed, and the reason that he came up with it at that time (mid-1895) was that the minister (who entered office in early 1895) was a lawyer by profession. As for the timing, however, Goldziher probably had other considerations too. In May 1895 the Upper House of the Hungarian Parliament finally approved the “Reception” of Judaism as a religion in Hungary. As a precursor and a parallel development, some Jewish faculty members were promoted at the University in 1894 – 1895—among them Goldziher, who became “honorary ordinary professor,” which was still an unsalaried position. Although Goldziher started his diary entry by assuring the reader that his turn to the Minister was motivated by a “mere sense of duty” and not “egoistic interests,” it is realistic to assume that by widening Islamic studies at the university and his own portfolio he also hoped to improve his chances to reach full professorship. In any case, Goldziher’s initiative bore fruit only nine years after he attained full professorship, and the breakthrough at that time was apparently due to rising Turanism and the Austro-Hungarian-Turkish alliance in World War I. Between 1914 and

 He goes on to blame Vámbéry (“the great swindler-dervish”) as the one behind the Ministry’s ignoring him in this matter, so his resentment against the Ministry was apparently partly fuelled by his rancor towards Vámbéry. The mentioned school was expanded into a fully independent institution (Oriental Commercial Academy) in 1899 and reintegrated with the Commercial Academy in 1920; see above, Ch. II.  Later Islam (in its Ḥanafite version) received a state recognition (as a first in Europe) in Austria in 1912, and in Hungary (Islam in general) in 1916.

The Powers That Be

81

1919 Goldziher taught five semesterial courses titled “The institutions of Islam” at the Faculty of Law.²⁷⁷ In late 1907 the Ministry of Religion and Education invited Goldziher to write a textbook for Muslim high school students on the history of Arabic literature. Identifying with the educational agenda of the monarchy on this issue and having no reservations about the historical-political (“colonial”) context, he wrote and submitted the book within a few months. One finds no political propaganda in the work (the ministry officials who commissioned it did not expect him to convey such messages). In fact, he was asked to take into account Muslim religious sensitivities, which he of course did.²⁷⁸ As observed by Katalin F. Rac, in these and similar invitations it was dilettantism that was liable to bother him and not “colonialism” or other moral concerns.²⁷⁹ Goldziher’s cooperation with politics and politicians who relied on his scholarly prestige and solicited his expertise did not wane after the relatively liberal and optimistic decades following the Austro-Hungarian Compromise. His attitude towards Turanism as he neared the end of his life (i. e., before and during World War I) is particularly instructive in this respect. As mentioned before, Turanism, an ideological and political movement, was a remarkable and characteristic manifestation of Hungarian orientalism. It was predicated upon a search of kin and allies, combined with a sense of a “cultural mission,” as formulated by Helfy and cited above. Politically, it strove for cooperation between various Asian and other peoples (including Turks, Mongolians, Finns, Bulgars, Hungarians, and many others) to counter the influence of the Great Powers, and—widening the notion of Orient to include southeastern neighboring nations in the Balkans—to further Hungarian economic interests. An influential, semi-governmental Turanian Society (Turáni Társaság, also called Hungarian Asiatic Society) was

 Right after beginning his lectures, Goldziher registered with dismay in the diary (T 281– 282; Jan. 26, 1914) the fact that only some 30 students showed up instead of hundreds (as anticipated by others) and wondered whether it made sense for the ministry and for himself to offer this course under such circumstances. The courses, however, continued. Goldziher taught his course in the Spring semester of the given years, except 1918. From 1914 onwards a course on “The legal sources and institutions of Bosnia-Herzegovina” was also taught at the Faculty of Law in the Autumn semesters, and in the 1920s in both semesters, by Gyula Zachár.  Rac, “Arabic literature for the colonizer and the colonized,” 88 – 89, 95 – 97. The article puts this literary endeavor in a wider context of Goldziher’s encounters with Hungarian foreign (“Eastern”) policy and provides interesting information on the Muslim reception of the textbook. For Goldziher’s correspondence with state officials concerning this issue, see the Preface by the editor (Kinga Dévényi) in Goldziher, A klasszikus arab irodalom története, xi–xxiv.  Rac, “Arabic literature for the colonizer and the colonized,” 95.

82

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

founded in 1910, and the movement flourished during World War I. Here is Goldziher’s main entry on his dealings with this movement: Now everyone speaks about all sorts of interests in the East [es spukt jetzt hier vor lauter orientalischem Interesse]. Hoping and expecting that after the World War our economic and political bonds with our Turkish allies will tighten, numerous associations come into being here, of course without planning and method, that wish to prepare the ground for that connection. Economically and scientifically. An economic center for the Orient was founded, and also a Cultural Center for the Orient.²⁸⁰ Of course scientific groundwork and preparations for all these endeavors should have been made, as it was done in Germany. This was missed, and even mocked (Hatala! and others like him). Now they improvise as dilettantes. Persuaded by Count Pál Teleki, who visited me at home for this purpose, I let myself be involved with the Cultural Center. One of its Sections, the linguistic one, elected me as its president.²⁸¹ But I could endure this honor only for a short time. The endless amateurish and presumptuous prattle of the members became unbearable for me after two meetings and I had no choice but to announce my resignation. They readily accepted it. Obviously it makes people feel good when they get rid of me. It’s really better if they play cultural-centering without me. Furthermore, our Ministry founded a “Scientific Institute” in Constantinople. On July 28 the Minister appointed me to the Board of this institute, which will be directed from here. How I can contribute to this, I have no idea. Figures such as Gyula Mészáros, an otherwise rather ignorant speaking machine of Turkish, are their trump-cards. What I am about to do here? (T 292; August 18, 1916)

The Oriental Economic and Cultural Centers, as well as the Institute in Constantinople, were all offshoots of the Turanian movement. Despite his reservations about these enterprises, in his diary Goldziher saw it important enough to record a pleasant conversation he had with Archduke Josef Franz at the inaugural Board meeting of the Constantinople Institute (T 295, November 21, 1916) and also lectures he gave at the Economic Center during the later years of the war (T 301; August 15, 1917; T 310, August 17, 1918). Goldziher was engaged with the Turanian Society both well before and well after these entries were written (contrary to the impression that the former entry gives the reader). We learn about this engagement, which was somewhat more than pro forma but confined to scientific-cultural activities of the Society, from letters of Count Pál Teleki to Goldziher. Teleki (1879 – 1941), a geographer who held various Hungarian ministerial positions including that of prime minister, was the first President of the Turanian Society. In

 Goldziher was elected to be one of the 12 (!) vice presidents at the inaugural session of the reorganized Turanian Society, under the name “Hungarian Cultural Centre of the Orient [Turanian Society]” [Magyar Keleti Kultúrközpont (Turáni Társaság)], on May 2, 1916; see Turán 2 (1917): 70.  At the same inaugural session, Goldziher became one of the 18 members of the Linguistic and Ethnographic Section: Turán 2 (1917): 71.

The Powers That Be

83

the letters, he consults Goldziher on issues related to the Society²⁸²; invites him in 1911 to lecture for the Society (referring to “your Excellency’s untiring ardor, activity and sympathy towards the aims of the Turanian Society”)²⁸³; informs him that on January 31, 1914, he was elected “again” to be a board member of the Society²⁸⁴; solicits an article from him for the “new” periodical of the Society (Turán) in 1916²⁸⁵; and asks his permission to put his name (again) on the front page of the journal of the Society.²⁸⁶ While the content of Goldziher’s letters to Teleki is currently unknown to me, from Teleki’s letters and other information it is clear that, although with little enthusiasm, Goldziher responded positively to most of Teleki’s requests.²⁸⁷ That Goldziher did not evade some issues that he would have otherwise avoided is probably due to the high social-political standing of Teleki and his remarkably respectful, almost submissive tone toward him, as documented in the letters. To understand how Goldziher’s social position changed in Hungary over time, we must first observe that despite his growing academic recognition (having received honors at the academy and the university), his involvement in wider cultural activities diminished and his alienation from local society grew. In the 1870s Goldziher extensively published in Hungarian for the wider public on

 Teleki invites Goldziher to a meeting in his home (GIL/43/05/02) and sets a date for visiting Goldziher at his home (GIL/43/05/01). Maybe this was the visit recorded in the diary entry cited above. These letters are undated.  GIL/43/05/04, December 12, 1911.  GIL/43/05/03, February, 1914. Goldziher was one of the 27 members of the Board in 1913; see Turán 1 (1913) [190].  In chronological order: GIL/43/05/10; September 8, 1916; GIL/43/05/05, September 19, 1916; GIL/43/05/06, October 6, 1916. On the periodical, see below.  GIL/43/05/07, December 23, 1916. In an additional letter (GIL/43/05/09; no year is given) Teleki asks Goldziher’s opinion of Salamon Pál Osztern (on him, see Ch. II, “Hungarian Jewish (Orientalist) scholarship …”).  There is no reason to doubt that the personal meetings took place. Currently I have no information on whether or not Goldziher actually lectured at the society at that time. As for the article solicited by Teleki, Goldziher offered him a translation of a lecture that he delivered in Vienna (“Das muslimische Recht und seine Stellung in der Gegenwart”; T 293; September 10, 1916). Teleki had problems with this offer, and subsequently no article by Goldziher was published in the journal of the society (however, an abridged version of the article, “Modernistische Strömungen im Islam,” was published in a similarly minded forum). Goldziher’s name is listed on the title page (or its inside) of Turán, among the approximately 30 named “chief contributors,” in all three issues of vol. 1 (1913) and all 10 issues of vol. 2 (1917). No such listings appear from vol. 3 (1918) onwards. The publication was suspended in 1919 – 1920, and only one issue appeared in vol. 4 (1921), in which (p. 66) Goldziher is mentioned among the prominent, recently deceased members of the Turanian Society.

84

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

the history of religions and on contemporary political issues in Muslim societies. From the 1880s he reduced his activities in these fora. The conservative turn in Hungarian politics in the 1880s and the emerging political antisemitism beginning in the late 1870s²⁸⁸ gave him ample reason to be exasperated with Hungarian politics and the social climate. These developments most probably played a role in his turning away from publishing for the Hungarian public; there was also a likely correlation between his social-political frustrations and his hopelessness, at roughly the same time, about a Jewish renewal in Hungary. His only comprehensive account and assessment of a decades-long period (40 years) of his life appears in a diary entry from 1902 in the form of a literary-academic rather than a social or political balance sheet, presented in a positive tone: Literary observers will not fail to recognize straight-lined progress from the output of the 12year-old boy to that of the 52-year-old man. I wrote tirelessly on ancient Jewish, Turkish, Arabic, Egyptian, Assyrian literature, on Sunnis and Shiites, ever more maturely and rigorously, initially with honest fantasy and effervescent freedom, later yielding myself more and more to scrupulous anxiety and tiresome criticism. […] I utilized my scientific results also in Hungarian literature. It was fulfilment of a duty to which I gave priority for a long time over successful participation in the great currents of scholarly life abroad. (T 231, May 16, 1902)

As the entry continues, Goldziher laments the “filthy ingratitude” of his Jewish environment, but we find no mention of social-political reasons for the abandonment of his “duty” towards Hungarian literature. It seems that he considered the shift in his priorities as a more or less natural attendant of scholars’ dedication to their research. In sum, it would be a mistake to depict Goldziher as an anti-establishment “critical intellectual”—a well-known, often tragic personality type in modern Central and Eastern Europe and their Jewries.²⁸⁹ Such an understanding may

 The blood-libel of Tiszaeszlár in 1882 was its culmination. In Hungary, as well as in other countries, academic and other discrimination against Jews was a barometer of general social conditions.  Róbert Simon interpreted the negative turn in Goldziher’s general mood and attitude from the second half of the 1880s as “resignation” and despair: Ignác Goldziher, 49, 63, 75, n. 15; Goldziher Ignác, 11– 14, 49, 60, 66, 211, 217, 220 – 221, 223 – 224, 229, 242. His recurring remarks on this theme evoke a figure of an incorrigible bourgeois-civic humanist-idealist, and offer a characterization that comes close to the “critical intellectual”-type. Even the narrowing of Goldziher’s scholarly interests and objectives after 1885 (T 110; see the citation and comments on it in the next section) is considered by Simon to be part of Goldziher’s general “resignation,” rooted, at least partly, in his social-political desperation. In his view Goldziher gradually abandoned his original broad concept and program of comparative religious and cultural history, and con-

Estrangement from Jewish Scholarship

85

fit the tone and main themes of Goldziher’s diary, his self-perception, more than it would fit the above-presented data. The diary documents his loathing for “networking” and the “feudal” ways of management in Jewish circles as well as in academia in Hungary. Nevertheless, even within Hungary he was far from being an academic oppositionist or a scholarly recluse. As we saw throughout his whole life, when sufficiently high political circles approached Goldziher and asked for his cooperation in “appropriate” ways, he did not balk. His contempt for these environments could not overpower his elementary need for recognition from the political and academic elites as well as from the Jewish establishment. He tended to see honors and other recognitions that he received through the lens of the emancipation of Jews and considered the honors to be for Hungarian Jewry as much as for himself ²⁹⁰—this was his routine way for resolving the mentioned contradiction between contempt and pride, or for alleviating the tension between the two.

Estrangement from Jewish Scholarship The earliest literature on Goldziher already made two simple yet important observations on the Jewish dimensions of his life and work. One is that Goldziher’s traditional Jewish upbringing made it easy for him to grasp the fundamental doctrines and institutions of Islam.²⁹¹ The other is that Goldziher’s scholarly interest in Judaism waned as time passed.²⁹² These two facts are closely related to fined himself to Religionsgeschichte and Islamic studies from 1885 and especially after the turn of the century, “as a reflection of the rough conditions in Hungary and his personal miseries”; Ignác Goldziher, 53 – 54, 75, n. 15; Goldziher Ignác, 58, 65, 221, 223 – 224, 242.  See above in this chapter, on “The Diary.”  This view, first proposed by Immanuel Löw in his commemorative oration (“Goldziher Ignác,” 302)—see also Snouck Hurgronje’s obituary, “Ignaz Goldziher,” and its Hungarian translation “Goldziher Ignác,” 108—was repeated later by B. Heller, C. H. Becker, and others. See below, p. 120. S. Poznanski expressed essentially the same view already in 1920 (in his article celebrating Goldziher on the occasion his seventieth birthday: (‫"פרופ' יצחק יהודה )איגנאץ‬ "‫)גולדציהר‬, in surmising that Goldziher’s Talmudic knowledge, that accompanied him from his early childhood, was the primary factor that attracted him to Hadith as his main field of interest in Islamology.  On Goldziher’s turn away from Jewish studies, see Németh, “Goldziher’s Jugend,” esp. 11, 13; and Goitein, “Goldziher,” 4– 9. Goldziher in his letters to Poznanski (especially from 1906 and 1909, ibid. 7– 8) mentions two main reasons: the lack of reception of his studies (on Islam, and particularly on Judeo-Arabic themes) among Jewish scholars, as opposed to his Arabic-Islamic studies among scholars of these fields; and his insufficient competence in pursuing Jewish scholarship.

86

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

each other, as well as to the local social conditions of Goldziher’s era. It was his Hungarian environment (Jewish and non-Jewish) that prevented Goldziher from developing his vested interest in the “essence and evolution” of Judaism into Jewish scholarship. Moreover, since he, for reasons that elude common sense, was not ready to leave Hungary (see below, Chapter IX), his scholarly focus gravitated towards Arabic-Islamic culture and religion, fields in which he could pursue his research without restraints and earn international recognition. This was his capsule biography according to many of his friends and colleagues, especially in Hungary. While this view is predicated upon simplified causalities, it contains grains of truth. Aborted or unpublished works are sometimes no less important in the history of scholarship than published ones.²⁹³ An investigation into how and why Goldziher’s Islamic scholarship increasingly became a surrogate—a heaven and a haven—for his Jewish “involvement,” scholarship, and piety reveals motifs of exile, mission, and self-emancipation in his career. From the moment Minister Eötvös died, Goldziher’s career stopped progressing. He had a bright future behind him. Anti-Jewish prejudices in academia did not disappear, which prevented the promotion of non-converted Jews at Budapest University for decades. Public protest of (Neolog) Jewish circles against this academic discrimination could only harm their cause—at least Goldziher apparently thought so when he rejected such Jewish publicity and support in 1882, on the eve of the Tiszeszlár Blood Libel.²⁹⁴ In any case, he was at loggerheads with the Neolog establishment, had contempt for them, and wanted none of their support. Jewish scholarship in Goldziher’s eyes was part of the same predicament. In his diary Goldziher remarks, apparently on the second half of the 1880s: “The unbelievably rude relationship, unfit for any virtuous community, which I had with the representatives of Jewish power and Jewishness [jüdischer Macht und jüdisches Wesen], made me totally nauseated to participate in the fraudulent ef-

 Cf. Simon, Goldziher Ignác, 12– 13. This is the phenomenon of “black fire on white fire” in intellectual history, to use an old rabbinic motif.  An open letter signed by Goldziher and Zsigmond Simonyi, published in a Jewish newspaper, protested against the “unsolicited” support by “organs of our denomination” [felekezetünk karai], such as the newspaper itself, against academic discrimination. The letter apparently was written by Goldziher; Konrád, Zsidóságon innen és túl, 365. I think there is some significance to the fact that while the newspaper mentioned all members of the Eötvös group (except Vámbéry) by name, as victims of the discrimination, the protest letter was not signed by the other four members (Kármán, Marczali, Bánóczi, and Alexander). These four (who never converted, while Simonyi converted two years later) may have disagreed with the letter.

Estrangement from Jewish Scholarship

87

forts which were carried out under the banner of “Science of Judaism” [Wissenschaft des Judenthums]” (T 110). Baḥya ibn Paquda’s Duties of the Heart, an eleventh century work by a Spanish Jew written in Arabic, was one of Goldziher’s favourite religious readings from his early childhood.²⁹⁵ He reportedly often referred to a “sacred family tradition” that members of the family “are laid to their eternal rest with a copy of the ethical work of Baḥya under their head.”²⁹⁶ This devotional work on philosophical ethics could have served as an impetus and an ideological backbone for Goldziher in his gradual withdrawal from organized Jewish life and in his edging toward Islamic studies. The book’s emphasis on devotional-contemplative mysticism, inwardness, and asceticism (and its admonition against “hypocrisy,” in particular) could have reinforced Goldziher’s inclination for religious reclusion, introversion, and aloofness. Moreover, the work bears the stamp of Islamic philosophy and mysticism,²⁹⁷ and as it likely helped arouse his initial interest in Arabic-Islamic studies during his teenage years, it also served as a bridge and helped to sustain this interest which was to fill the intellectual vacuum created by his frustration with the Jewish community. However, with a lack of more substantial evidence to prove that this book played a pivotal role in his intellectual development, all of this is hypothetical. How and to what extent did the scope of Goldziher’s research shift over time? It is worthwhile to take a look at two such shifts in light of his bibliography and some autobiographic statements. In April 1868, before Goldziher went to study in Germany, Eötvös met him and asked him about his study plans. Goldziher was unprepared for this question, but gave an answer like as follows, according to his memoir (T 34): “I expanded on the importance of investigating the historical development of human institutions of religious and political life. [And I told that] I thought if I had the opportunity, I would make these issues in the Semitic context (Semitismus) the subject of my study.” Goldziher’s fields of interest were (or became) indeed broad and variegated. In his bibliography from the

 T 18, 20; Klein, “Egy pár apróság Goldziherről”; Yahuda, “Goldziher,” 206. Besides his childhood tutor (Freudenberg) Goldziher reportedly named Baḥya’s work (which he “reads almost every day”) as having had the most formative influence on his moral development; Poznanski, "‫"פרופ' יצחק יהודה )איגנאץ( גולדציהר‬.  Weisz, “Goldziher Ignácz,” 1. The author was a noted rabbi and scholar and a colleague of Goldziher on the faculty of the Rabbinical Seminary. The mentioned tradition was apparently not followed in Goldziher’s interment.  David Kaufmann was the first to analyze the Islamic background of the work in depth: “Die Theologie des Bachja Ibn Pakuda,” especially 7– 25. See also the more recent work of Lobel, A Sufi-Jewish Dialogue.

88

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

beginning up till 1890 five or six thematic groups stand out, in a variety of genres (popular or semi-popular articles, scholarly papers and books, book reviews, etc.): (1) Judaica, (2) Arabic-Islamic studies, (3) biblical scholarship, (4) history of religions, (5) history of oriental scholarship and current academic affairs. The intersection of (1) and (2)—primarily Jewish and Arabic/Islamic cultural and religious contacts—deserves special mention and can be considered a group of its own. This output is only partially in line with Goldziher’s improvised remarks to Eötvös on his study (or scholarly) plans. It is broader and narrower at the same time: it shows heavy engagement in philology on the one hand (which is often only indirectly related to “the historical development of human institutions of religious and political life” if at all); and on the other hand, he deals with the mentioned “institutions” only in part of the Semitic “context” or orbit. His articles pertaining to the general history of religions in antiquity (including mythology) and culture were survey or review articles published in local journals in Hungarian, and it is these publications (and the readings that gave rise to them) that are meant when he, in 1890, reports about a certain narrowing of his scholarly focus apparently from the mid-1880s: Until then I have noted everything industriously that had some bearing on ethnography, ancient history, biblical theology, the study of religions, history of oriental cultures and other kindred fields to enrich my expertise. Then I had to give up the systematic study of these fields. “Because of anguish of spirit and hard work” [Ex. 6:9] little time was left to academic activity. Therefore I concentrated on Arabic philology and history and Islam. (T 110)

Goldziher’s remarks provide a—partial—explanation of why he withdrew from digesting scholarship in fields only loosely related to his own, and why he discontinued popularizing accomplishments in those fields in Hungarian.²⁹⁸ Although in this passage Goldziher attributed the narrowed scope of his readings only to his “hard work” (Exod. 6:9) as an employee of the Jewish community of Pest and his lack of time, one can assume (as R. Simon opines) that Hungary’s worsening political climate and rising antisemitism played a role as well. On the other hand, in the continuation of this passage in the diary (part of it is cited in

 The cited two autobiographic statements and the mentioned Hungarian articles are construed by Simon as evidence of Goldziher’s very broad initial scholarly program, and he drew far-reaching conclusions about a correspondingly dramatic (albeit gradual) narrowing of his program; see above, n. 289. I find this reconstruction overstated, and offer my reading of the relevant statements and facts above and below. As for Goldziher’s cited improvised remarks to Eötvös, it seems they were only meant to provide a necessarily broad approximation of his scholarly interests at that time, and were also tailored to Eötvös’ own scholarly and philosophical outlook.

Estrangement from Jewish Scholarship

89

the beginning of Chapter IV) the reader cannot miss the positive tone in highlighting the beneficial effects of these limitations and self-imposed limits of his studies on his scholarly work (resulting in the Muh. St., among other works). It seems that—similar to the passage from 1902 cited in the previous section—at the time he wrote these passages in the diary, the narrowing of his scholarly interests was considered by Goldziher himself as a rather natural process of scholarly development and professionalization, which had little to do with the social conditions of his home country. A more significant, better documented, and more complex shift was his— partial—withdrawal from Judaic studies. To be sure, Judaic research as such was never in the forefront of Goldziher’s scholarly plans and interests.²⁹⁹ To the extent he dealt with Judaic sources and subjects, it was mostly within the broader framework of historical and cultural contacts of Islam with other cultures. It seems he came closest to contemplating and conceiving a Judaic research agenda (Judeo-Arabic literature and Jewish-Arabic cultural contacts) for himself by the inspiration of Moritz Steinschneider while studying in Berlin (T 38). However, upon returning to Hungary only orderly relations with the Neolog scholarly elite and a position at the Rabbinical Seminary could have made this field a feasible research focus for him. In any case, his Judaic studies and research served—until the late 1880s—as an increasingly invisible yet important understructure or “undertext” for his aspirations, beyond the emotional and religious comfort that they granted to him. His Jewish knowledge was (and remained) both a cornerstone of his comparatist perspective and a central component of his Jewish “reform” efforts and his plans to find an appointment at the Rabbinical Seminary. Furthermore, it also facilitated (mainly through his Protestant connections) his early social and academic integration. However, from the 1880s we see these forces and motivations becoming less and less relevant and dwindling by the day. Particularly the years 1888 – 1890 were crucial for Goldziher’s disengagement from Jewish affairs and Judaic scholarship. His turn to Arabic philology and Islam was a gradual process, but the events of that period made this turn final and irreversible.³⁰⁰ After 1888, he es-

 Simon’s opinion that Goldziher “never seriously concerned himself with the Jewish studies” (Ignác Goldziher, 62) is a gross exaggeration, at least from the objective point of view (that is, in light of his publications) according to all reasonable definitions of “Jewish studies.” Cf. also the citation from T 167– 168 below.  On November 17, 1887—two days before his first lecture on “The Essence and Evolution of Judaism,” see below—he writes to Immanuel Löw: “The vain struggle in which I stand totally alone dashes the hopes which I nurtured in my youth about the efflorescence of our Hungarian Synagogue. Indeed, I had rather present my soul to my Muhammadans, from whom I have only

90

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

sentially ceased to publish scholarly studies or essays on narrow Jewish subjects,³⁰¹ although he continued his research on Arabic/Islamic–Jewish cross-cultural relations.³⁰² David Kaufmann’s manuscript collection,³⁰³ Erzherzog Rainer’s collection of papyri in Vienna, and Goldziher’s relations with Kaufmann³⁰⁴ and the Arabist palaeographer Josef Karabacek of Vienna³⁰⁵ all played an important role in keeping Goldziher’s interest alive in this field.³⁰⁶ In university teaching

ever received joy and satisfaction.” Hidvégi, “Immánuel Löw’s Reflections on ‘The Essence and Evolution of Judaism’,” 79 (see also n. 15 there). This passage of the letter (written in Hungarian) was published by Scheiber, “Goldziher Ignác levelei,” 8, and previously—with slight modifications—by Immánuel Löw, “Goldziher Ignác,” 299 – 300. Cf. also Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 96, 98.  There was one notable exception: a brief article to be published in a jubilee volume for Immanuel Löw in 1914, which only appeared much later in such a volume (for his eightieth birthday): “Erklärung einer Stelle in der Tefillah.” See also his one page article “Ethische Deutungen,” on an issue religiously important to him. His lecture Tradition und Dogma (which appeared in several languages) read in a synagogue in Stockholm on the sidelines of his lecture tour on Islam in Sweden in 1913 (see T 277, 280 – 281) also may be considered an exception, although it was “Jewish” due to its synagogal context rather than its content; it deals with specifically Jewish issues only in its last fifth part.  Of all these works, his series of articles “Mélanges judéo-arabes” (1901– 1910) and his edition of the Kitâb ma‛âni an-nafs (1907) required the most sustained efforts. From the 1910s his interest in Arabic/Islamic–Jewish cross-cultural relations waned further.  A not insignificant part of Goldziher’s “Mélanges judéo-arabes” is based on source-materials from the manuscript collection of David Kaufmann.  Goldziher recognized the significance of this collection (and its Genizah-part, in particular) and had access to it still in Kaufmann’s lifetime. After Kaufmann’s death in 1899, Goldziher not only “inherited” part of his courses at the Rabbinical Seminary; through his connections with the family, he also had unique access to this manuscript collection, and sorted out its (Judeo‐)Arabic material (in 1905) in order to utilize it in his own research (T 248 [August 28, 1905]; see his “Kaufmann Dávid könyvtára,” 600), and in his tutoring work at the seminary. Dozens of Genizah-fragments from this collection were physically in his possession – and later perished in the Holocaust. See also below, p. 94, n. 314.  Recommended by Goldziher, in 1894 Karabacek became an external member of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences. In 1897 Karabacek intended to “reciprocate” this honor, but his efforts failed. See T 216 – 217 (June 1, 1897), and Karabacek’s letter to Goldziher, June 3, 1897 (GIL/20/16/ 76).  It is not incidental that Goldziher’s correspondence with both scholars started effectively in 1893 (before that date we have only one postcard from Kaufmann to Goldziher, from 1883—GIL/ 20/26/32). In the earliest postcard from this period (dated April 28, 1893) Kaufmann politely cancelled an appointment with Goldziher (GIL/20/26/33). In Kaufmann’s case the beginning (or resumption) of this correspondence signals a thaw in their relations—at least a softening of Goldziher’s animosity toward Kaufmann, expressed so often in the memoir-part of the diary. Goldziher’s change of attitude toward Kaufmann (which was left unreflected in the diary) started probably not long before (see below the comments on the diary-entry written in the end of 1893). Their common scholarly interests in medieval Jewish and Islamic philosophy (in Baḥya ibn Pa-

Estrangement from Jewish Scholarship

91

too, after 1890, he essentially confined himself to Arabic-Islamic (and sometimes Syriac) subjects. While in the 1870s, as a young Privatdozent in Budapest, he often offered courses in Hebrew studies and general Semitics, over the next decade he offered such courses only three times, and later even more sporadically.³⁰⁷ Still, due to his teaching and scholarly work, Goldziher was the founder of Semitic and Jewish studies at Budapest University.³⁰⁸ Important moments of Goldziher’s shift of academic interests were the “failure” of his popular lecture series for Jewish university students (A zsidóság lényege és fejlődése [The Essence and Evolution of Judaism]) in 1887– 1888; the death of his revered master, Heinrich Leberecht Fleischer in 1888 (T 116); the prize (and related honors) he received at the Stockholm Congress of Orientalists in 1889 (T 117– 120); and the publication of the two volumes of his Muhammedanische Studien (1888 – 1890) accompanied by their favorable reception. Among other motives and considerations, warm reaction and success were clearly among of the decisive factors that impelled him toward Arabic-Islamic studies. Goldziher was apparently driven to the conclusion that while in Arabic-Islamic

quda, Yehuda Halevi, and al-Ghazali, for example), in medieval Judeo-Arabic history and literature in general, and in the mentioned two collections, were probably important factors in this change. On Goldziher’s interest in Archduke Rainer’s collection, see his “Rainer főherczeg papyrus-gyűjteménye”; he became acquainted with this collection in 1892 at the latest, when a catalogue of the collection was presented at the ninth congress of orientalists in London (ibid., 601); on connections between the two collections, and the interest of Kaufmann and Goldziher in both of them, see Turan, “The Austro-Hungarian Beginnings of the Research on the ‘European Genizah’,” 91– 94.  Besides courses in Arabic and Islam (under various titles), Goldziher taught courses in Semitic philology (under various titles) in the 1874 Autumn, 1875 Autumn, and 1876 Autumn semesters; on Semitic or comparative mythology in the 1874 Autumn, 1875 Autumn, 1877 Autumn, 1879 Autumn, 1880 Spring, 1881 Autumn semesters; he taught Aramaic or Syriac in the 1876 Spring, 1878 Spring and Autumn, 1880 Autumn, 1882 Autumn, 1883 Spring, 1884 Spring and Autumn, 1885 Spring and Autumn semesters. He offered a course on Cultural history of Hebrews in the 1875 Spring semester; on Kohelet in the 1876 Summer and Autumn semesters; on Jeremiah in the 1879 Spring semester. He taught courses on Semitic epigraphy in the 1887 Spring and Autumn and the 1889 Autumn and 1893 Autumn semesters; on Semitic palaeography in the 1895 Autumn and the 1920 Autumn semesters; on Syriac in the 1896 Spring and Autumn semesters; on Hebrew and Arabic palaeography in the 1906 Autumn semester, and on Semitic philology in the 1908 Autumn semester (these informations are based on the Bulletins of Budapest University [A budapesti Királyi Magyar Tudomány-Egyetem tanrend(j)e a (…) tanév (…)]). After getting his promotions to professorship in 1894 and 1905 he had more freedom than before to select the courses that he wanted to teach.  Goldziher mentored Sándor Büchler (his in-law) in attaining a non-tenured lecturership in Hungarian Jewish history in 1914 (T 282)—the first (albeit low rank) academic position in “Judaic studies” at the Faculty of Humanities of the University of Budapest.

92

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

studies his work was appreciated internationally (even if much less in Hungary), some of his researches in Jewish studies were liable to reap the whirlwind even abroad, let alone in his home country. His fortieth birthday in 1890 was a critical junction in Goldziher’s mentioned academic transformation—it was the right time to embark on a literary journey and to begin writing his memoirs. Apparently, it was also a veritable rite of passage for him. In Goldziherology one finds the view that Goldziher’s shift away from his early scholarly program (influenced by his Jewish “reform” stakes) towards his full-blown Islamicist research program was primarily a concomitant of his professionalization. Countering this view, others opine that this shift was a fulfilment of his religious development under the spell of prophetic universalism. Some evidence can be marshalled from the diaries to support both views, although inconclusively, partly because professionalization and personal religious development and convictions as motives are not mutually exclusive; and as we noted, there were apparently other (institutional and social-political) motives as well. We have discussed above two shifts in Goldziher’s scholarly agenda, both happening mainly in the second half of the 1880s, parallel to the casting and defining Arabic-Islamic studies as his central field of study: one is a substantial decrease in his interest in Judaic matters (due to religious, institutional, political, and professional reasons), and the other is the decline of his interest in general scholarship on ancient religions and cultures and his commitment to mediate it to the Hungarian public (due to personal-professional and social-political reasons).³⁰⁹ A meandering scholarly trajectory such as Goldziher’s was of course not unprecedented in orientalist careers and Goldziher was alert to such shifts and their complexities in scholarship. One example will suffice. Goldziher, who liked to contemplate on scholarly lives and to reflect on his own in the mirror of other orientalists’ life courses, was intrigued by the scholarly profiles of Eduard W. E. Reuss (1804– 1891) and his disciple Karl Heinrich Graf (1815 – 1869), founders of Old Testament criticism—profiles similar to his own in several respects. In the year of his appointment as a full professor (1905), Goldziher published a book review on their correspondence,³¹⁰ from which we learn how significantly the work of the two on the Bible (which met with much resistance) was complemented, and to some extent eclipsed, by their research in other orientalist

 See more on this issue at the end of this section, and in Chapters III and V.  Goldziher, “[Review of:] Eduard Reuß’ Briefwechsel mit seinem Schüler und Freunde Karl Heinrich Graf.”

Estrangement from Jewish Scholarship

93

fields. Both Reuss and Graf pursued philological research in Arabic-Islamic culture, with a keen interest in the religious-historical contexts of their work. Graf— and Goldziher devoted most of his attention to him rather than Reuss—started his career with a broad program: “the prehistory of Near Eastern peoples, or at least the history of Semitic languages.” Alas, he who never attained a university position,³¹¹ and could afford to engage in research only in “snatched moments” of his work as a high school teacher of French, had to narrow his ambitious scholarly plans, and confine himself to Islamic and pre-Islamic Arabic studies and Persian philology.³¹² The external-institutional, professional, and religious-theological factors in the shifts of Graf’s scholarly agenda (basically its narrowing, but also widening) are clearly conveyed in Goldziher’s review. Goldziher’s decisive turn from Judaism to Arabic and Islamic Studies informs his expressions of indebtedness to some people in the autobiographical part of his diary from 1890. He writes about Gustav Jahn (a fellow student during his year in Berlin, 1868 – 1869) with understanding and empathy, stating that “because of his [Jahn’s] conflicts with church authorities he turned his back on his work in [Christian] theology and started to train himself to be an Orientalist.” Goldziher calls him a “victim and martyr” (words that he generally reserved for himself and seldom used for others³¹³) of his interest in Hegel and the Tübingen School (T 39). With Fleischer’s death, he feels that a period in his life has ended and another has begun because “one regards himself as a student as long as the master is alive” (T 116). Furthermore, it is probably not incidental that Goldziher acknowledges Geiger’s profound influence on his method of studying Jewish and Islamic religious sources precisely at this stage, in reporting about the success of his Muhammedanische Studien (T 123). Goldziher occasionally refers to Jewish scholarship in his diary, usually in passing and in an ad hominem way. What follows is his only extended statement on this subject: From time to time, it comes to my mind that my studies are built on Jewish starting points. Jewish literature would find in me one of its most diligent promoters, if its cultivation would be as pure and honest as its documents. Never has an idealistic literature had such filthy representatives and caretakers as the modern researchers of Jewish literature

 According to a monograph on Graf, he was not sufficiently sociable to attain such a position—Conrad, Karl Heinrich Grafs Arbeit am Alten Testament, 179.  Goldziher records Graf’s early interest in a comparative study of Jewish and other oriental tales, and his later interest in Sufism, which according to Graf “sheds exceptionally bright light on Jewish prophecy” (“[Review of:] Eduard Reuß’ Briefwechsel mit seinem Schüler und Freunde Karl Heinrich Graf,” 184, 186).  Goldziher refers only to his mother and Moritz Kármán as “martyrs” (T 102, 286).

94

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

in our age. Urchins, billposters [Reklammacher], forgers [Geldgleissner], and liars are the representatives of the research into this literature, the documents of which are eternal, exemplary, and inspiring actual expressions of facts of martyrdom, love of God, otherworldliness [Weltverachtung], and love of truth. What a fate! It is a veritable fortune that at least the Bible they hold in contempt and the Prophets they neglect! This sanctuary would be profaned by their breath and defiled if its truths would revolve in their impure minds. For me, that heap of notes [Notizenkram] from the Middle Ages, from an age in which the idealism of our noble forefathers was confined to narrow ghettos and was decked out in tasteless finery [is irrelevant]. They inherited the tastelessness, while the idealism is hateful to them; but even the fineries themselves are beyond the grasp of their flat minds. Our medieval literature is lucky that they are too ignorant and rotten, too egoistic and avaricious to deal with things for which they would never be trumpeted as great men. They are Jewish scholars who are wooing for favorable, boasting reviews of Lutheran missionaries. A good word from “Strack” is their goal, and therefore they spend a thousand good words for “Strack” or whoever belongs to that missionizing people. I loathed their company when I turned to the Muslims. It cost me a great sacrifice, but not everyone is capable of living and working with them. (T 167– 168; Dec. 31, 1893)

The reader should not take such Goldziherian invectives at face value. As noted above, his divorce from Jewish scholarship and its institutions was not as dramatic and radical as this vituperation may suggest. In this passage, which is so typical of his vilifying rhetoric, one finds a number of elements which cannot be regarded as anything else but projections. All the core values of the author are projected onto Jewish literature. Similarly, all his denunciations against Kaufmann—who later became his friend and whose library and collection of manuscripts was donated (in 1905) to the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, largely due to Goldziher’s intervention³¹⁴—are projected on Jewish scholarship (or vice versa).³¹⁵ Note also the stark contrast between  According to Heller (“Goldziher Ignác” [1911], 238) Goldziher “obtained” this collection for the Academy. A. Scheiber names Goldziher as the only “advisor” to the family in this matter, without further references, in The Kaufmann Haggadah, 4. Similarly, Samuel Krauss wrote that Goldziher played a decisive role in arranging this donation (which raised the ire of many Hungarian Jews): "‫"חכמי בודאפשט‬, 465. There may have been others who tried to convince the donor (Kaufmann’s mother-in-law) to donate the precious collection to the Academy instead of a Jewish institution; see Ormos, “David Kaufmann and His Collection,” 139. Goldziher was probably the first person who worked on these manuscripts (except their owner), and had plans to pursue further research on them. It is fair to assume that he was interested in keeping this collection well accessible to himself (which would have been not the case had the family donated the collection to the Rabbinical Seminary), and influenced negotiations over the terms of the donation.  Goldziher’s main accusations here also appear earlier in the diary in relation to Kaufmann: Reclammacher—cf. T 87– 88; Geldgleissnerei—cf. T 88; Notizenkram—cf. T 87; “Zeitungen […] ausposaunt würdet”—cf. T 115. His remark on “those who are wooing for favorable, boasting reviews

Estrangement from Jewish Scholarship

95

the part of medieval Jewish literature which is filled with lofty ideals, and everything else in that literature, the worthless “heap of notes”³¹⁶ and the themes of these scholars’ heap of notes (with which Kaufmann and others of his ilk are preoccupied³¹⁷) reflecting a barren ghetto spirit. Nevertheless, even in later times Goldziher never lost sight of the implications of his Islamic scholarship to Judaic scholarship. “It always makes me most happy when occasionally my Islamic matters shed light on Jewish things, which can often be properly understood only through knowledge of the former [i. e., Islam],” he wrote to David Simonsen (1853 – 1932), scholar and rabbi in Copenhagen, in 1913.³¹⁸ He even planned some works in the study of Judaism that would have certainly garnered great interest, had he carried them out. He was also often approached by prestigious publishers, friends, and colleagues to write on Judaic subjects that were known to have been close to his mind and heart, and to translate or republish his earlier works in this field. Let us briefly survey the most important examples of these aborted projects, in more or less a chronological order. Between 1897 and 1908 Immanuel Löw entreated Goldziher, his close friend, to write a general appreciation of his father (Leopold Löw), and Abraham Geiger, to be published in two separate prestigious book projects that I. Löw edited.³¹⁹ Goldziher slipped out of both requests. In 1901 the Jüdisch-Literarische Gesellschaft (Jewish Literary Society) in Berlin asked permission to translate his lecture series titled The Essence and Evolution

of Lutheran missionaries” is probably directed at Kaufmann as well (and specifically at his obituary for Delitzsch; see T 45 and Haber, Goldziher, 120 – 121). Cf., however, p. 222 below. Readers of the diary can appreciate Goldziher’s appeal for forgiveness in his address at Kaufmann’s funeral: “Dr. Goldziher Ignácz bucsuztatója.”  Decades before Heinrich Graetz chided Leopold Zunz’s scholarship with similar words: “Zunz’s more confusing than illuminating heap of notes [mehr verwirrender als aufhellender Notizenkram] and his dry nomenclatures have helped my work but little”: Geschichte der Juden, V, p. vi. This remark was omitted from later editions; cf. Bamberger, “Zunz’s Conception of History,” 1– 2.  Goldziher made the same criticism in a presentable form (also without mentioning Kaufmann or others), declaring the heaping of notes by main representatives of Hungarian Wissenschaft des Judentums as inferior to Zunz’s, who never lost sight of the larger culture-historical context of his “notes”: “A bibliai tudomány és a modern vallásos élet,” 159.  Letter from Goldziher to Simonsen, April 7, 1913; The Royal Library (Det Kongelige Bibliotek) in Copenhagen, David Simonsen Archives/Letters to/from David Simonsen/Correspondents/G/ Go/Goldziher, Ignaz/0006; http://www5.kb.dk/letters/judsam/2011/mar/dsa/object12478/en/ (accessed December 7, 2021).  See further details in Ch. VIII, on I. Löw.

96

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

of Judaism into German—an offer he declined (T 230).³²⁰ In the prospectus of the encyclopedic series of handbooks (Grundriss der Gesamtwissenschaft des Judentums) planned by the Gesellschaft zur Förderung der Wissenschaft des Judentums (Society for the Advancement of Jewish Scholarship) in late 1903 (or early 1904), Goldziher’s name appears as the author of a prospected volume titled Judaism and Islam (Judentum und Islam).³²¹ Later he abandoned this commissioned work.³²² In 1904 – 1905 he was invited to hold a series of lectures on

 Prior to this initiative, Bernát Elsass, one of Goldziher’s students from the Rabbinical Seminary, suggested to Goldziher to publish the same work in German as a response to Adolf Harnack’s Das Wesen des Christentums, and offered to translate the work: see his letter to Goldziher, October 17, 1900 (in Hungarian), GIL/09/14/01. It is unclear whether there was any connection between these initiatives. A German translation (ed. by O. Fraisse) is forthcoming.  “Erster Jahresbericht der Gesellschaft zur Förderung der Wissenschaft des Judentums,” 63; cf. 60. On behalf of the Gesellschaft, Martin Philippson and Gustav Karpeles corresponded with Goldziher from June to October 1903 inviting him to contribute this volume (without a time frame) and persuading him to accept the invitation. I have not yet been able to locate any of Goldziher’s letters of response, but the letters of his two correspondents imply that he was unwilling to take upon himself the task for months before he agreed. See especially Philippson to Goldziher: GIL/33/44/04 and 02; Karpeles to Goldziher: GIL/20/20/01, 02, and 03. The invitation itself was probably flattering for him (had David Kaufmann been alive at the time, he could have been the preferred candidate for writing this work). Whether he ever seriously considered carrying out this plan is yet to be clarified. His “Islam,” and “Die islamische und die jüdische Philosophie,” can be considered either preparations or partial substitutes for such an endeavor. It seems that Goldziher was member of the Gesellschaft’s subcommittees from the beginning; in 1908 he was elected as member of the committee on Jewish-Arabic literature; see the letter of Nathan Max Nathan (Secretary General of the Gesellschaft zur Förderung der Wissenschaft des Judentums) to Goldziher on January 20, 1908 (GIL/33/44/05).  N. M. Nathan informed Goldziher in a letter dated July 9, 1912 (GIL/30/26/03) that [Israel] Friedländer had declined the invitation to write this book, but [Isidor] Pollak had accepted it. Joining the latter, Nathan once again urged Goldziher to carry out this book project, or in case he was still unwilling to undertake the task, to give an opinion on Pollak’s plan. Pollak (1874– 1922) (T 253; Aug. 30, 1906), whose field was medieval Arabic and Jewish philosophy, was affiliated with the University of Prague. When Goldziher finally decided (apparently in 1911) to abandon this book project, his recommendation was, it seems, to turn to Friedländer (1876 – 1920; from 1903 a Professor at the Jewish Theological Seminary of New York), who had a broad spectrum of scholarly interests in Jewish-Arabic history and literature, with an emphasis on Shiite-Jewish connections. In their letters to Goldziher concerning this book project, both Friedländer (December 11, 1911 [GIL/11/09/24]; February 19, 1912 [GIL/11/09/29]) and Pollak (July 19, 1912 [GIL/34/05/07]) emphasized Goldziher’s unique qualifications to write this book. For Friedländer’s turning down the invitation, see his letter dated February 19, 1912. Pollak started preparatory work on the book in 1913 (see his letters to Goldziher, February 13, 1913 [GIL/34/ 05/12]; December 22, 1913 [GIL/34/05/14]), but World War I foiled his plans (undated letter, probably from 1914 or 1915 [GIL/34/05/16]).

Estrangement from Jewish Scholarship

97

Jewish philosophy in major Jewish institutions of higher learning in the United States. Goldziher was inclined toward accepting this invitation for at least six months (T 240, 242, 247), but the lecture tour was never realized.³²³ In the grandiose publication series Der Kultur der Gegenwart (edited by Paul Hinneberg) Goldziher was invited to contribute, among others, the chapter on Jewish religion.³²⁴ He refused. In 1907 Ismar Elbogen, professor of the Hochschule/Lehranstalt für die Wissenschaft des Judentums in Berlin, urged Goldziher to submit his article “On tasks of Judaic scholarship” (Über Aufgaben der Wissenschaft des Judenthums) which he promised to contribute to a festschrift celebrating the new building of the institution.³²⁵ He apparently never wrote such an article. In 1913 David Simonsen (a Jewish scholar in Copenhagen who was also Chief Rabbi of Denmark for ten years) encouraged Goldziher to collect and publish his scholarly papers pertaining to Judeo-Arabic culture. He rejected this suggestion; even in such late stages of his career he mentioned with much bitterness the lack of response to his works in Judaic scholarship (see Appendix V). Finally, it should be mentioned that in an article on the occasion of Goldziher’s seventieth birthday, Bernát Heller spurred his mentor to write a comprehensive survey on the historical development of Judaism, covering the whole gamut of Jewish-Islamic interactions.³²⁶ At that stage of Goldziher’s career, this was a polite wish and encouragement of a loyal disciple rather than a realistic proposal. At an advanced stage of his career, in 1908, Goldziher wrote: “Ever since I have been engaged in the study of Islam, what has held my interest most is detecting the impact of foreign elements that influenced the formation of historical Islam.”³²⁷ He devoted a long series of pioneering studies to Parsi, Buddhist, Neoplatonic, Christian etc. influences on Islam. However, there was one area of con-

 Scheiber, “Letters of Solomon Schechter to William Bacher and Ignace Goldziher,” 257, 271– 275.  Heller, “Goldziher.,” 4. Goldziher wrote the survey on Islam (“Die Religion des Islams”) which appeared in 1906. See the letters of Hinneberg to Goldziher (September 16, 1902; GIL/ 17/25/23; and October 3, 1902, GIL/17/25/47) in which he invites Goldziher to contribute on Islamic religion (“Religion und Weltanschauung des Islam”), medieval “Arabic-Jewish” philosophy, and a chapter on the history of medieval Islamic political organization and government. Goldziher wrote the survey also on the second topic; the third one (with a slightly different scope) was eventually assigned to and written by Martin Hartmann.  Elbogen to Goldziher, October 4 (letter) and October 5 (telegram), 1907 (GIL/09/13/13; GIL/ 09/13/12).  Heller, “Goldziher,” 4. The reader of the article has the impression that two prospected books are telescoped into one here. The second aspect mentioned by Heller echoes the planned book on Judaism and Islam mentioned above.  “Jelentés az orientalisták XV. nemzetközi congressusáról,” 552.

98

III Problems of Biography and Self-perception

tact between Islam and other cultures with which Goldziher the comparatist showed a certain reluctance to deal with: mutual influences between Judaism and Islam. He continued to publish on Jewish-Arabic themes even after his essential disengagement from Judaic scholarship and made mention of Jewish parallels in his works. Yet despite the considerable amount of Islamic-Jewish comparative material that we can find in his oeuvre (much more than of any other field of his comparativist research), this material is limited compared to his knowledge and the material at his disposal. His comparative references were selective and had an ad hoc and even random character in a number of his publications, and it is not incidental that, as mentioned, he did not engage with the planned comprehensive volume on Muslim-Jewish encounters.³²⁸ All these evasions, refusals, and seemingly self-imposed limitations were small steps in his strategic departure from Judaic studies—an aim that he never intended to carry out fully. However, we should not lose sight of the wider institutional context of this gradual retreat. Beyond a number of factors (including his methodological qualms, his tense relationship with contemporary Judaism and his Jewish environment, and a variety of religious and political sensitivities), his withdrawals from, and fluctuations and vacillations in, Jewish academic matters should be understood against the background of contemporary taxonomies of higher learning. Goldziher’s career was largely contemporaneous with the emancipation of Semitic philology as an academic discipline from being a handmaid of the theology-centered discipline called “oriental languages” in the Habsburg monarchy and the German lands. His lecturership in “Semitic philology” at Pest University in 1871 was one of the early indications of the differentiation in the academic nomenclature of “oriental languages” in Central Europe.³²⁹ For him the new trend of establishing (or redefining) academic positions for Semitics was a more than welcome development. “Judaic/Jewish studies,” on the other hand, were generations away from (albeit slowly) becom-

 Goitein (“Goldziher,” 5, 16) was unaware of this plan; nevertheless, he offered two explanations for Goldziher’s abstention from engaging in dealing with this subject more comprehensively. One is his will to avoid any appearance of “bias” (‫ )קנאה‬toward his religion, and the other is his dislike of writing summarizing works. For the first explanation, cf. below; for the second, see the introductory section of the present chapter.  Wokoeck, German Orientalism, 140 – 145. Some examples: in Berlin Johann Gottfried Wetzstein became Privatdozent for Semitic philology from 1864 (or 1867); in Vienna Eduard Sachau was appointed as non-ordinary professor of Semitic languages in 1866 (or 1869—see ibid, 283), and as ordinary professor in 1871; in Kiel Georg Hoffmann, and in Strassburg Theodor Nöldeke became ordinary professors of Semitic languages in 1872; in Innsbruck Gustav Bickell became ordinary professor of Semitic languages (and Christian archeology) in 1874.

Estrangement from Jewish Scholarship

99

ing recognized in humanities worldwide.³³⁰ In Goldziher’s times this field was still basically a theological discipline, pursued primarily in rabbinical seminaries, and also in Christian institutions and theological faculties, where some ancient subfields of it were taught and explored. Goldziher was a proud non-theologian (he considered himself a philologist and a scholar of religion), and his main affiliation was with a university’s faculty of humanities. Therefore, he had every reason to keep his Jewish comparative works and references within bounds, and not stray into the territorial waters of “theology.” A further concern of Goldziher (not unrelated to the previous one) may have been that giving a disproportionate weight to a Jewish “parallels” discourse is not only liable to amplify unwelcome “theopolitical” approaches in the study of Islam and to give a “theological” edge to his own contributions to it, but also likely to “Judaize” the subject by association, with a potential to project antisemitic (or strengthen anti-Semitic) prejudices against Islam.³³¹

 It is a notable fact that the first university chair for “Judaic studies” in the Western world was created at the University of Madrid in 1915. The incumbent of the chair (for rabbinic language and literature) was A. S. Yahuda, and Goldziher played a key role in his selection, as is known also from the Diary (T 276 – 277; May 13 and 16, 1913) and Goldziher’s correspondence with Asín Palacios in May–November 1913. The chair, however, did not last long after World War I. On the political background of the establishment of the chair, and Yahuda’s acute involvement in politics far and wide, see Gonzalez, “Abraham S. Yahuda (1877– 1951) and the Politics of Modern Jewish Scholarship.”  See also the citation from Socin above in the Introduction, “Fleeing from God to God,” and below, Ch. V, “The politics of comparativism.”

IV Between Education and Scholarship Science and education were the two major internal agents of religious progress in Goldziher’s view; some of his disappointments in Jewish educational efforts (that contributed to his estrangement from Jewish causes) were mentioned in the previous chapter. In this chapter our main task will be to investigate his guiding principles in religious education, and his ideas on the role of the science of religion in it. Goldziher tried to implement his ideas tenaciously, with varying success in different levels and arenas of education. “Everything is vanity, except scholarship” says Renan in his letters, and Goldziher quotes it with apparent approval.³³² As a follower of earlier classical ideologies of the Wissenschaft des Judentums, modern historical-critical scholarship had tremendous significance, also religious significance, for Goldziher. His lecture entitled “The Modern Study of Religion”—the last (sixth) one in his popular lecture series (in Hungarian) in 1887– 1888 on “The Essence and Evolution of Judaism”—begins as follows, according to the printed version: “We arrived at the most recent stage [legújabb mozzanatához] of the evolution of our religion […] which is driven by modern scholarship.”³³³ The formulation of the original manuscript was somewhat different: “We arrived at the last stage, to the final destination of the evolution of our religion.”³³⁴ The reference to modern Jewish scholarship as the “final destination” of the evolution of Judaism, a Freudian slip of sorts, was crossed out by the author himself. He believed in historical-critical scholarship as the supreme form of religious, monotheistic self-reflection, and this collective historical self-reflection carried a teleological, and in some sense, eschatological significance in his eyes: it had a pivotal role in monotheistic religious progress. Eduard Gans (1797– 1839; one of the initiators of the “Science of Judaism”) had similar—ultimately Hegelian—ideas concerning modern Jewish scholarship, as later Abraham Geiger had, in more limited ways.³³⁵ The continuation of his text indicates, however, the important distinction that compelled him to correct his original, imprecise formulation. Medieval Jewish philosophy already recognized that “in uniting with scientific consciousness, our religious development reaches its highest goal,” but he stresses that since “scientific

 Goldziher, “Renan és Berthelot levelezése,” 183, 188.  A zsidóság lényege, 106 (emphasis is mine—T. T.).  (Emphasis is mine—T.T.) I will publish the manuscript elsewhere.  See Gans’s third speech before the Verein für Kultur und Wissenschaft des Judentums, in 1823: Waszek, Eduard Gans, 75 – 85, esp. 77– 79. For Geiger’s “Zeitalter der Criticismus,” see Turán, “Leopold Löw and the Study of Rabbinic Judaism,” 67*. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285-006

IV Between Education and Scholarship

101

consciousness” is constantly developing, religious thought must constantly keep abreast of it and cannot rest on its laurels.³³⁶ In other words, already by medieval times monotheistic religious thought formally had reached its “final destination” in recognizing the complementary status of science and religion (in some fields of knowledge), and the necessary convergence of the two (in other fields). This awareness itself, however, is a necessary but in itself insufficient condition for keeping religious thought relevant and enabling a religion to develop. Scientific methodologies (and partly, insights) are steadily changing and transmuting, and therefore substantively the religious dialogue with scholarship never ends. Moreover, besides critical historicization, there are parallel, “positive,” pedagogical tasks: to instill ideals and values of the critically sifted, “purified” tradition (which meant, to Goldziher’s mind, the “prophetic” ethical legacy) into the youth, and introducing of the results of the mentioned dialogue into the religious consciousness of the “educated public.” The “failure” of the mentioned lecture series reminded Goldziher of the Sisyphean nature of the latter task. His frustration with Jewish scholarship and community matters grew as his prospects for success in the two educational arenas grew progressively darker. It was not incidental that both the original “slip” and its reformulation in the sixth lecture occurred at that critical juncture in Goldziher’s career, in the second half of the 1880s. This sixth lecture, which turned out to be the culmination of his lecture series, was his last, desperate effort to stir up interest in Jewish scholarship with the theological agenda of purging the Jewish tradition from antiquated elements that does not conform contemporary Jewish “educated consciousness.”³³⁷ His effort failed; the lecture proved to be his swan song, as far as his public Jewish theological aspirations were concerned. Unlike the previous five lectures, this one was not submitted for publication by Goldziher; it was published posthumously.³³⁸ The following passage in his memoirs (in the diary) reflects his desperation regarding the general rejection of his historico-critical scholarly program and accomplishments in the Jewish context, as well as his relative satisfaction with performing the pedagogical objectives at least in his family circle: Both of the volumes of my Muhammedanische Studien also arose in this time period [in the second half of the 1880s]. They show, how I was, during these years, drawn ever deeper into grasping those problems that occupied me already in my earliest youth. Essays and studies in Hungarian were also not missing (Hung. Academy). The study on the research of Pales-

 A zsidóság lényege, 106 – 107.  Ibid., 121, 125 – 126.  Goldziher, A zsidóság lényege és fejlődése, II, 53 – 83.

102

IV Between Education and Scholarship

tine (ibid.) and some essays in the Budapesti Szemle are from this period. The unbelievably rude relationship, unfit for any virtuous community, which I had with the representatives of Jewish power and Jewishness [jüdisches Wesen], made me totally nauseated to participate in the fraudulent efforts which were carried out under the banner of “Science of Judaism”; but with the innermost threads of my soul I hung on to the religious studies. The more they pressed down on me, the more my spirit arose against the thought: to be the same before my conscience what these people are. So I worked out the religious system and the historical conception of development, which I since my youth carry in my spirit, in ever more solid outlines. All things in any way contradictory, prompted in me by earlier sentimental moments, were cut loose, and there developed in me pure and genuine the system of thought, whose truths made it my duty to detest the people of lies, whose slave and outcast I was. My house was now Jewish in a higher sense and I raised my two children religiously, with Prophets and Psalms; all lies were banished from their education and were thrown aside. While I thus erected a temple in my house for truly God-believing Messianic Judaism, the pious men of Moravia [Kaufmann, Bacher, etc.] did not stop slandering me and charging me with heresy on ever-wider basis. When my children someday read these lines, they will not believe with their own eyes when they experience that their father, who prayed with them to God, who taught them to love, who spurred them onto the Hebrew scriptures to impassion them for the good and the Godly, was at the same time branded “a danger for Judaism” and that there was not a one that would take such talk to task. (T 110 – 111)

This narrative puts into some perspective not only Goldziher’s “scholarly conversion” (to use David Moshfegh’s term) from a predominantly Judaic framework to a predominantly Arabic and Islamic framework³³⁹ (a process that culminated in the second half of the 1880s), but also his adherence to the science of religion and his efforts to implement his “scientific” insights and monotheistic vision— first, and above all, in his and his family’s religious life. The existence of “scholars” as an elite class is a permanent phenomenon in Judaism from the Second Temple era. At the age of 18, Goldziher devoted one of his first published papers to “Privileges of Religious Scholars in the Talmudic Age.”³⁴⁰ One of the main reasons for Goldziher’s attraction to Islam was his perception that Islam, like Judaism, is a religion of study³⁴¹—an academic religion. In his early collection of essays on Islam (in Hungarian), he writes: “[…] occupation with scholarship is also valued more in the traditions of Islam than external ritual piety,”³⁴² while elsewhere he regards the Jewish tradition as “the excessive appreciation of scholarly values” (T 237; June 14, 1904).³⁴³

 Moshfegh, Ignaz Goldziher and the Rise of Islamwissenschaft, 346.  “A hittudósok kiváltságai a thalmud korában.” Cf. on the scholars’ garb in Goldziher, A spanyolországi arabok helye az iszlám fejlődése történetében, 155 – 157 (“The Spanish Arabs and Islam,” 16 – 18).  OrD, 105 (October 6, 1873).  Az iszlám, 456; see also 366 – 367, 467– 468; Muh. St. II, 32.

On Biblical Scholarship

103

One of the core values guiding this “academic” elite—in Judaism as well as in Islam—is that truths and norms must be put into practice (T 20; OrD, 90, cf. 116, 150). Truth must be taught, and norms—particularly ethical norms— must be followed and implemented. Mór Kármán, Goldziher’s friend and intellectual mentor, has built an entire pedagogical program for secondary schools based on these and related social-ethical ideals, with strong patriotic accents and a distinct commitment to remaining close to scientific truth as much as possible—including teaching humanities along scientifically-philosophically established developmental lines.³⁴⁴

On Biblical Scholarship Goldziher did not become a Biblical scholar proper, but the Bible was his primary focus in promoting Jewish “reform” as long as he was actively involved in such efforts in scholarship and in education. It is necessary therefore to take a look here into the main tenets of his approach to Bible scholarship. As his works published in the 1870s and 1880s show, Goldziher accepted basic insights of biblical source-criticism, and there is no indication that later he changed his mind on these issues. In his diary we read in an entry from 1891: “In the last month I dealt at length with biblical theology. Moses was not the father of the prophets, but their grandson, or the last link in the chain of prophetism. His Torah is the conclusion of prophetic power in Israel” (T 132; November 1891). This quite enigmatic passage seems to convey that Moses as a prophet and/or lawgiver was inferior to Abraham and other prophets of monotheism before Moses, and the Pentateuch (as a whole) was a relatively late literary creation.³⁴⁵ Goldziher devoted an essay in 1884 to biblical criticism in the first volume of the Hungarian Jewish scholarly periodical Magyar Zsidó Szemle [Hungarian Jewish Review]. Without entering the intricacies of “higher” criticism, he summarized there, approvingly, its basic approach and general conclusions pertaining to the Pentateuch; namely, that these books are a product of a long literary-his-

 In his A zsidóság lényege, addressing a Jewish audience, he says: “Except Judaism, there is no religious community within which the scientific occupation with religion is obligatory for all believers” (85).  Kármán, “Az új gymnasiumi tantervjavaslat”; Heller, “Kármán Mór,” 259 – 268. See more on Kármán in Ch. VIII.  For another interpretation (by Schreiner) of essentially the same doctrines of Biblical criticism that Goldziher echoes here, cf. Turán, “Martin Schreiner and Jewish Theology,” 64– 65.

104

IV Between Education and Scholarship

torical process in which various sources, representing different circles within the religious elite with different traditions and agendas, were merged into one canonical unit. As for the Pentateuch (and other Biblical books), already in his Mythos-book he took for granted the existence of Elohist and Yahwist traditions and sources, and viewed the Pentateuch as a composite work, a sort of compromise between “priestly” and “prophetic” schools of thought, composed and written down in the time of the Babylonian exile and after the return to the Holy Land.³⁴⁶ The Mythos-book was his most famous—and notorious—of his early writings on Judaism.³⁴⁷ It was a manifesto against Renan’s “racist” thesis that Semites had no mythology (and that these peoples were intrinsically incapable of developing mythologies), and a platform for approaching the Bible with a “history of religion” perspective and accepting Bible criticism.³⁴⁸ Róbert Simon aptly called this work, alluding to Spinoza’s book, a Tractatus mythologico-politicus. ³⁴⁹ However, the book was full of speculations and disputable philological arguments; moreover, it tried to liberate Jews and Judaism from a verdict (lack of mythology) which even reform-inclined liberal Jews in Hungary (and elsewhere) would not want to be liberated from. The mixed reception of the book abroad³⁵⁰ and the mostly negative responses to it in Hungary³⁵¹ were partly the reason that Goldziher abandoned the Bible as a field of research.

 Mythology among the Hebrews, 45 – 46, 297– 298, 312– 315; “A bibliai tudomány és a modern vallásos élet,” 156, 161– 162.  Der Mythos bei der Hebräern; Mythology among the Hebrews.  The original German edition of the book was dedicated to Mór (Moritz) Kármán. On some of the latter’s views on the Bible and the history of biblical religion, see Heller, “Kármán Mór,” 270 – 271.  Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 79.  T 86 – 87; [Anon.], [Review of: Goldziher, Der Mythos bei den Hebräern], 224. In the Netherlands too, this work was ill-received: Wildeboer, Die Literatur des Alten Testaments, 31– 32, 56 – 58. In a letter of 1929, Károly Goldziher informed Bernát Heller that his father’s big collection of British and American responses to this book “either ended up in Jerusalem, or perchance poor dad destroyed it” (Heller-bequest, letters no. 376). In Gershom Scholem’s copy of the book (at the Scholem-Collection of the National Library of Israel, Sch 15559) we find on the flyleaf the following note by Scholem: “Phantastische Aufstellungen! Gott allein weiß, ob überhaupt etwas oder wieviel davon stimmt. Und G. beschwert sich über Nork!! Jugendsünden eines großen Gelehrten?”  The diary attests to such attacks from within the Rabbinical Seminary and without (T 22, 87– 89, 272). According to the author, the book was originally written in Hungarian: Der Mythos bei der Hebräern, ix; Mythology among the Hebrews, xv. An anonymous reviewer gave more (and more nuanced)—unconfirmed—information by saying that Goldziher ceased to work on the original Hungarian version and rewrote the book in German after “having realized that he cannot

On Biblical Scholarship

105

According to various testimonies, he distanced himself later from this book.³⁵² As one of his students recalled, “it was he himself who, because of his religious feelings, blacklisted it [i. e., his book], as it were, and he did not like others mentioning it in his presence.”³⁵³ The earliest reference to Goldziher’s “renouncing” of “the results of his first major Jewish work [Der Mythos bei der Hebräern]” was made already in Goldziher’s lifetime.³⁵⁴ In any case, reflecting on the fortieth anniversary of his literary activities in 1902, Goldziher described some of his early works as written with “honest fantasy and effervescent freedom” (T 231),³⁵⁵ and I am inclined to see in this remark a hint to his Mythosbook. If this is correct and there was, already then in 1902 or later, indeed some sort of self-criticism or distancing by the author concerning his book, then this self-criticism was presumably a partial one, pertaining to the linguistic-mythological speculations in the first part of the book, and not the reconstruction of the development of ancient Israelite religion in Biblical times which was the second focus of the work. In his views on “higher criticism” Goldziher could claim little originality, as his main inspirator Geiger too could have little claim to originality.³⁵⁶ However, his advocacy and support for “higher criticism” (and Biblical scholarship in general) among Neologs had a unique intensity and deserves attention. In his apologetics for Biblical (higher) criticism Goldziher relies on Geiger (his hero in Jewish theology), only in a theological context: namely, in pointing out the lack of “dogmatic” hindrances against higher criticism, he refers to Geiger’s modernist

find for it a Hungarian publisher”: [Anon.], [Review of: Goldziher, Der Mythos bei den Hebräern], 223.  According to A. Scheiber, Goldziher “renounced [visszavonta] his book as a consequence of attacks by conservative circles” (“[Review of: R. Graves and R. Patai] Héber mítoszok”; idem, “[Review of:] Carmilly-Weinberger […]”). Earlier, Geo Widengren made a similar statement: “Goldziher himself later on in life disclaimed responsibility for this book!”; see his “Early Hebrew Myths and Their Interpretation,” 149, n. 3. A possible source of this claim is Samuel Krauss’s memoir (“The Sages of Budapest,” 455): “I have heard that later Goldziher regretted that he wrote the book, although did not explicitly renounce it.” See also Plessner, “Y. Y. Goldziher,” 293, 295. Nothing is known about the memorandum, which Goldziher drafted and directed to the community leadership (T 88), and to date there is no direct evidence whatsoever to support the theory that Goldziher renounced or disavowed the book as a whole.  Silberfeld, “Apró képek Goldziher életéből.”  [Szabolcsi], “Goldziher Ignác jubileuma.” The article was written by the well-connected and well-informed editor of the Egyenlőség, on the occasion of Goldziher’s sixtieth birthday. See also Kecskeméti, “Berlin zsidóságáról,” 577– 578; Rosenzweig, “Aus der Kinderjahren,” 723; Kosztka, “Goldziher Ignác, az író,” 462.  See the fuller citation in Ch. III, “The powers that be.”  Sarna, “Abraham Geiger and Biblical Scholarship,” 22– 24.

106

IV Between Education and Scholarship

notion of Biblical revelation. However, in higher criticism itself, concerning the Pentateuch, it is Zunz’s—radical—views that are cited by Goldziher emphatically in his Hungarian publications.³⁵⁷ Zunz was an inspiration and the main point of reference for Goldziher also in legitimizing whatever insight or allegation he considered “scientific” concerning the Bible. Zunz remarked (in 1865) concerning Biblical books (and religious books in general): “Every doctrine that seeks to connect to the entire community and strives to inspire it, needs to be predicated upon a common conviction and love. All books, including the Biblical ones, are originally testimonies to faith and not sources of faith; faith created them and not they created faith.”³⁵⁸ Why did Zunz become Goldziher’s main reference for Biblical “higher criticism,” instead of Geiger? The main reason, it seems, was that Zunz, who had his own peculiar views on Jewish religion but was more conservative than Geiger in matters of religious practice and distanced himself from Reform,³⁵⁹ commanded the respect of Neolog rabbis and scholars³⁶⁰—unlike Geiger, a protagonist of Jewish Reform, who was beyond the pale for them.

 Goldziher, “A bibliai tudomány és a modern vallásos élet,” 160, where five statements of Zunz are cited from the latter’s article “Bibelkritisches,” in idem, Gesammelte Schriften, I, 216 – 270.  Zunz, Gesammelte Schriften, II, 237, cited by Goldziher, A zsidóság lényege, 116. Significantly, Zunz made this statement in his review of a Jewish catechism. In the review he expressed doubts whether catechisms can fulfill their mission. His view can hardly be understood and appreciated without knowing the intense Lutheran theological discourse between the 1770s and 1840s on the nature of credos, catechisms, and “symbolic books” in Protestantism, and the position of the anti-dogmatic, liberal theological platform in particular. See already the Epitome (no. 8) of the Formula Concordiae, from 1577: “But the other symbols and writings cited are not judges as are the Holy Scriptures, but only a testimony and declaration of the faith, as to how at any time the Holy Scriptures have been understood and explained […] by those then living […].” See e. g.: Bretschneider, Die Unzulässigkeit des Symbolzwangs in der evangelische Kirche, esp. 1– 19; for Hungary, see e. g.: Könyves Tóth, “A’ symbolok- s’ symbolikus protestansok’ uniojáról.” The cited particular statement of Zunz can be understood as something else than a Bible-critical statement directed against the historical authenticity (or the importance of the historical authenticity) of the Bible; but this of course does not alter the fact that Zunz subcribed to Bible source criticism, including that of the Pentateuch; see Schorsch, “Leopold Zunz on the Hebrew Bible,” esp. 445 – 446.  Schorsch, Leopold Zunz, 121– 130.  Goldziher himself intimates that he cites Zunz because he will be considered a renegade “by no one” (among Neologs at least): “A bibliai tudomány és a modern vallásos élet,” 160. In David Kaufmann’s critical but tactful dealings with Zunz’s Bible criticism (in which the “scandal” about Goldziher’s Mythos-book may or may not have had some role) see Schorsch, Leopold Zunz, 228 – 229.

Academic Scholarship and the Responsibilities of Scholars

107

Nevertheless, Geiger was Goldziher’s hero and not Zunz. For Goldziher, who was vexed by tensions between religious theory and practice for most of his life, it was presumably difficult to identify with the latter’s combination of radicalcritical views on the Bible on the one hand, and moderate progressive views on religious observance on the other.

Academic Scholarship and the Responsibilities of Scholars As for the exact balance of convictions and practices, Goldziher and Zunz were not on the same page, but the former fully shared the latter’s credo that scholarship is ultimately an ethical enterprise.³⁶¹ Wherever Goldziher perceived a discrepancy between personal scientific conviction and religious practice, he considered it (in the footsteps of Geiger) hypocrisy. Wisdom, wherever it comes from, commands itself to be “[…] learnt, taught, safeguarded and performed […]”—to use the formulation of an ancient Jewish prayer.³⁶² These injunctions, Goldziher maintains, are directed particularly towards the “learned” ones within the Jewish community. To disregard and disobey these imperatives—in particular the first two, learning and teaching—was also pure hypocrisy in Goldziher’s view (in this context he gave “learning” a non-traditional meaning: digesting current academic scholarship). On this account, Neolog rabbis, as well as professors at the Rabbinical Seminary, were, with very few exceptions, hypocrites in Goldziher’s eyes.³⁶³ Neolog Judaism and its scholars were unwilling to face the challenges of the literary history of the Bible, theology, and the history of the Jewish religion.³⁶⁴ Goldziher’s demand and criticism was a harsh and—for a long time—a lone voice within Neolog circles.³⁶⁵ He expressed enthusiastic support for these critical disciplines already in the 1870s.³⁶⁶ It is not literary-historical insights or the-

 Ibid., x, 2, 243.  Ahava rabba. Cf. Dt. 5.1; mAvot 4.5. Cf. Goldziher, A zsidóság lényege, 119 – 120, 124– 126.  T 33 (Bacher); T 79 (Kohn).  Goldziher was introduced to modern critical scholarship on these issues by Ballagi and Kármán: T 27, 43; Goldziher, “Keleti séták,” 30.  See also [Goldziher], “A haladásról.”  “A héber tanulmányok főiskoláinkban”; “A vallásos eszme fejlődése a régi hébereknél,” 364; “George Smith,” 162.

108

IV Between Education and Scholarship

ories, he maintains, which are destructive to faith and loyalty to Judaism, but rather the refusal (mostly on “dogmatic” grounds) to cope with them³⁶⁷: Jewish theology representing the progressive standpoint is disgraced by an immense negligence in this field. We are not pronouncing a hasty judgement by claiming that there is no reason for the indolence of Jewish religious thought, the barrenness of the scholarly activity of theologians, the unwitting aspirations of the educated public bearing no organic relation to (in fact totally independent from) Jewish scholarship, other than the sorry relation of our theology to Biblical scholarship. And we shall hardly make bold claims if we bring to the attention of the intellectual leaders of the present Jewish generation that the stagnation of our religious life, the flaws of religious education in our schools, from elementary instruction to professional theology, can be attributed to the unfathomable misfortune that our pedagogy and theology has not seen it timely to seriously determine its attitude to the scholarly findings representing the entirety of modern Biblical scholarship.³⁶⁸

Later on, Goldziher avoided dealing with this subject directly, but in presenting Renan’s positions on Bible scholarship he did not miss the opportunity to give an overview of the current stand of Biblical source criticism.³⁶⁹ He remained engaged with it, however, in historical research. The broader issue about Biblical scholarship was: in what way and to what extent, if at all, can the Jewish religious establishment (Orthodox or Neolog) tolerate or accommodate secular knowledge, modern scholarship—contemporary humanities in particular? Rabbis in Antiquity already grappled with “Greek wisdom / wisdom of Greek” [hokhmat yevanit] and prohibited it (we just do not know what this term exactly meant for them). Goldziher co-directed a valuable doctoral dissertation, written by a graduate of the Rabbinical Seminary, on the standing of “external sciences” in medieval Judaism; and later he himself picked up this theme in Islam.³⁷⁰ And it was axiomatic for him that as much as medieval anti-dogmatic Jewish theol-

 “A bibliai tudomány és a modern vallásos élet,” esp. 156 – 157, 161– 165; cf. T 95. See also below. For more background, cf. HaCohen, Reclaiming the Hebrew Bible, esp. 78 – 85, 152– 198. From a letter of Goldziher to I. Löw in 1881 (published by Scheiber, “Goldziher Ignác levelei”), in which he laments the fact that no “honest” history of biblical literature reflecting “modern scholarship” is available in Hungarian by “Jewish” hands and encourages Löw to produce one, we learn that two years earlier he made an attempt to do so, but ultimately he wrote only one essay.  Goldziher, “A bibliai tudomány és a modern vallásos élet,” 149 – 150. Tr. by M. Seleanu.  Cf. “Renan mint orientalista,” 515 – 517; Renan als Orientalist, 72– 73.  Hirschler, A külső tudományok. In the dissertation (10) the author expresses his gratitude first to Moritz Steinschneider, who touched upon this subject in his works and supported him “with paternal advice”; then to his “beloved” masters, Goldziher and Vilmos Bacher “for their kind guidance.” Goldziher’s share in directing this dissertation cannot be ascertained. For the Islamic context, see Ch. VI, “Reform à la Goldziher in Islam and Judaism.”

Educational Ideas

109

ogy accommodated fundamentals of contemporary “science” (i. e., Aristotelism), so modern anti-dogmatic Jewish theology must absorb and accommodate contemporary sciences—and the “science of religion” in particular.³⁷¹

Educational Ideas On the contemporary Jewish scene, Goldziher was in conflict with both the Orthodox and Neolog communities. He did not spill much ink on polemics with the former, for he did not regard them as intellectually worthy interlocutors. His criticism of Hungarian progressive, Neolog Judaism—his own natural environment—was more articulate and sustained. The main thrust of his criticism was not against Neolog religious practice, but against their preoccupation with rabbinic training, Neolog indifference to “ideology,” negligence of the modern study of religion and the Bible, and the reluctance to apply their implications on Jewish religious life. In short, he protested against the shallowness of Neolog “reforms” that were mostly confined to the aesthetics of ritual and the establishment of a Rabbinical Seminary.³⁷² In fact, Goldziher thought about Jewish “reform” and renewal not in halakhic terms but in educational terms. It seems he believed that only education—a wide, slow, and to some extent open-ended process—could enact genuine change. Anything less or anything more was doomed to fail and lead to religious corruption. His educational ideas did not differ much from mainstream Jewish Enlightenment ideas insofar as he put the Bible at the heart of Jewish elementary and general education,³⁷³ but his emphasis on Hebrew and its reinstatement in the elementary school curriculum deserves attention.³⁷⁴ As chief administrative officer of the Pest Neolog community, Goldziher was the de facto overseer of the development of curricula and educational reforms within the Pest Neolog Community. In an educational memorandum written in 1878 he called the Hebrew language the “symbol of our denominational existence and of our connectedness to the historical traditions of our race (faj) and religion.”³⁷⁵ In 1887 he referred to Hebrew as “the holy language, the display of Jewish antiquity and its eternal ideas.”³⁷⁶ Such sentences would not be eye catching in Neolog essays

     

Goldziher, A zsidóság lényege, 90 – 126. “A pesti talmud-tóra,” 543; see Ch. VII, “Reform à la Goldziher in Islam and Judaism.” “A pesti talmud-tóra,” 540 – 541. “A jesibák,” 616; “A haladásról,” 618, 621; Tradition und Dogma, 12; T 86. “A pesti talmud-tóra,” 540. “A haladásról,” 621.

110

IV Between Education and Scholarship

and homilies; as an organizing principle of an educational vision, however, they ran counter to general Magyarizing trends, and the weight given to Hebrew in his program raised the eyebrows of many educators. His insistence on Hebrew was met with persistent resistance of large segments of the Neolog establishment and constituency.³⁷⁷ His ideas pertaining to Jewish education partly projected the cherished memories of his own early Jewish education, the core of which was textual study in Hebrew (and Aramaic). More importantly, his vision about Hebrew education was based on a strong conviction, part of a coherent religious worldview, as we will see in coming chapters of the book. For him Hebrew was an inalienable, crucial component of the Biblical and Jewish historical legacy, and its perpetuation (similar to other languages and literatures) had a positive significance for human progress and world history. This emphasis on Hebrew was also a token of his own religious, communal-collectivist proclivities. He could not stress enough how far religious education is a function of theology and science of religion, and how important it is to integrate methodology and curricula of all levels of (Neolog) religious education (from elementary school to Rabbinical Seminary) into a coherent and harmonius whole. Proper religious education is unthinkable without “honest theology and science of religion, which live up to the standards of the calling of our age and our denomination.”³⁷⁸ His strong skepticism toward reform “from above,” orchestrated by rabbis, and his educational anti-elitism in general, are quite noteworthy and distinguish him to some extent from many of his reformist counterparts in other countries. Summarizing his first-hand experiences and opinions on educational reforms in Egypt, in 1873 he writes: “[…] education cannot be leased: in order to have a fertilizing impact on people’s minds, it needs to be developed from the people’s mind itself.”³⁷⁹ The same applies to Jews. Studying is neither a privilege nor an exclusive obligation of select individuals; the right and duty for all people to study is the essence of true rabbinism, and these are the driving forces behind its evolution.³⁸⁰ Goldziher wrote the above-mentioned memorandum in 1878 (it was submitted only six years later, “with a few modifications”) as a proposal to reorganize

 Munkácsi, “Pályám kezdete,” 63, n.*  “Talmud-tóra, hittanítás, proszeminárium, szeminárium,” 216 – 218; cf. “A pesti talmudtóra,” 543. He found support for this requirement in Maimonides’ Guide of the Perplexed (I. 35); A zsidóság lényege, 102.  “Tanügyi reformok Egyiptomban,” 208. Against imitating foreign cultures in general: “Muhammedán utazókról,” 129.  A zsidóság lényege, esp. 85 – 88. Cf. also “A bibliai tudomány,” 164– 165.

Educational Ideas

111

the local Talmud Torah.³⁸¹ This type of institution (operating in some of the bigger Neolog communities countrywide) offered supplementary Jewish education, typically for middle-school students, one to five hours per week, beyond the weekly two hours of religious education mandated by law. As mentioned before (in Chapter II), there was an internal debate among Neologs of whether rabbinical training or general Jewish education (in general terms elite or mass education) should be the primary locus of promoting progressivism. Goldziher was adamantly in favor of the second opinion, and he fought the trend which tried to develop the Talmud Torah into a preparatory school for studies in the Rabbinical Seminary. He considered the Talmud Torah absolutely critical in fighting religious “indifference,” in strengthening religious sentiments and Jewish identity in the community at large, and proposed to extend the scope of this institution to high school as well³⁸²: “The governing ideas, that […] give legitimacy to our collective existence, can be saved to our religious institutions only by a generation which learns to be enthusiastic, with the Prophets and authors of Psalms—enthusiasm is knowledge [tudomány], not nervous passion—, for the world-historical and universal tasks of Judaism.”³⁸³ The study of classical (“Later”) Prophets, and of Writings, dominates his draft-curriculum. Talmudic texts, nothing else but aggadic ones (the term denotes non-legal traditions in ancient rabbinic sources) found a place in the curriculum only in the last two grades. The Torah (the five books of Moses), surprisingly, are almost entirely missing from the curriculum.³⁸⁴ Goldziher had decisive influence over Jewish education in his community for decades, including the Talmud Torah, without having the supreme formal authority over the entire network of institutions. In 1885 his proposal was somewhat sidelined by an alternative, more traditionalist proposal of a rabbinical body of the community, and, above all, by the plan of Vilmos (Wilhelm) Bacher,

 His memorandum was submitted to the President of the Talmud Torah Association of the Pest community, who was also Vice President of the community—“A pesti talmud-tóra,” 538. For a survey of Goldziher’s activities in reorganizing the Talmud Torah in Pest, see Moskovits, Jewish Education in Hungary (1848 – 1948), 138 – 144.  Ibid., 539 – 540, 543.  Ibid., 543. Italics is in the original.  Only in the fifth and sixth grades we find in the curriculum a recommendation to “repeat” the legislative parts of the Torah, encouraging self-study by the pupils: ibid., 541. The relative neglect of the Torah in the curriculum is apparently explained by Goldziher’s intention to avoid the discussion of various aspects of the Torah—among others, its literary history. The study of Prophets and Writings dominates quantitatively the curriculum; beyond these biblical books, space is given to liturgy, Hebrew grammar and some Jewish history.

112

IV Between Education and Scholarship

who was appointed as director of the Talmud Torah in the same year.³⁸⁵ Bacher’s plan sought for a compromise: the institution was confined to fifth to eighth graders; it attempted to find a middle ground between general religious education and preparatory school for rabbinic studies, and defined its general purpose as enabling students to study the sources of Judaism in the original language.³⁸⁶ Contentwise Bacher’s curriculum was not radically different from Goldziher’s: both gave great weight to Hebrew and grammar (contrary to dominant trends among the Neologs) and the Bible. In any case, Goldziher was apparently satisfied with this middle course (at least from a hindsight) and listed the development of the Talmud Torah in the diary among his accomplishments in Jewish education.³⁸⁷ As the diary testifies, Goldziher was proud of his accomplishments in improving the educational system in his community.³⁸⁸ His educational ideas, however, were widely contested. Through the entire history of Neolog Judaism in Hungary, a hotly debated issue among ideologues and educators of this movement was whether the universalist elements of Judaism and its religious ideas, or the particularly Jewish elements and religious practice should be the primary focus in education. Goldziher was a main inspiration for the first view, and a central critical target of the second, from his times on. Some of his best students—such as Ede Neumann, Martin Schreiner, Bernát Heller, and Bernát Munkácsi (the inspector of religious education of the Pest Neolog community between 1890 – 1930)—tried to promote and amplify Goldziher’s educational ideas and to put them into practice (in teaching and in terms of curricula, text Bacher filled this position until 1905.  Bacher, “Az uj igazgató előterjesztése.” This curriculum is designed for five hours (taught on three days) per week. As for the Bible, Torah and Psalms were scheduled for the first two grades, Prophets, Proverbs, and Psalms for the last two grades. Liturgical texts were covered in the first two grades; rabbinic literature, to be taught in the last two grades, was limited to chapters of Mishnah.  “After bitter controversies and struggles […] I reorganized the Talmud Torah, this derelict institution of the community, and made strenuous efforts to furnish it with vivacious tasks” (T 86). The Talmud Torah-institutions never attracted high percentages of students among Neologs, in Budapest or elsewhere. In the 1887/88 school-year, for example, 1737 Jewish students received general religious education in middle- and high-schools in Pest; the local Talmud Torah had only 92 students—see Schweiger, et al., “Jelentés a pesti izr. hitközség hitoktatásáról,” 502, 508. In the previous school-year it had 89 students, and the year before 73; see [‐r], “A fővárosi talmud-tóra tanulóanyaga” (the abbreviation most likely stands for Goldziher).  T 85 – 86, 156, 201, 229. There is much interesting, and partly polemical, literature on these issues (and also on Goldziher’s ideas specifically) in the Hungarian Jewish (primarily Neolog) press of the 1880s–1890s and in written correspondence, but most of this topic is beyond the scope of the present book.

Educational Ideas

113

books, etc.). He was also able to put in teaching positions in the Pest Jewish Community people such as Ábrahám Stern (1855 – 1935) and Salamon Braun (1869–?) with educational approaches similar to his own and who later became influential in Jewish religious education. However, these Goldziherian ideas and efforts often met serious opposition. Let us take a brief look at two examples. Dávid Schön was one of the senior teachers of religion in the Jewish community of Pest, working under Goldziher’s supervision.³⁸⁹ The series of articles on religious education written by him in 1886, and the curriculum presented there, followed Goldziher’s ideas and phraseology.³⁹⁰ Even more so a second article by Schön in which he replied to criticism of his articles by Abraham Hochmuth (1816 – 1889), a senior Neolog rabbi.³⁹¹ Hochmuth challenged not only some of Goldziher’s Geigerian views, but also his Mythos-book: if the patriarchs were mythical figures (as Goldziher argued), how can religious education use them as moral exempla?³⁹² Years later Bernát Munkácsi and Martin Schreiner were recruited to participate in developing a new curriculum for (regular) religious education. Goldziher’s influence was decisive on both scholars on matters of education.³⁹³ Also in this curriculum (published in 1891), the Torah is almost entirely missing, and one of the guidelines of the new curriculum was that “religious truths that we proclaim cannot contradict other [aspects of] our positive consciousness and scientific truth.” In light of these and other features it was clear to all contemporary insiders of Neolog life and thought whose spirit hovered over this curriculum, and especially of the part worked out by Schreiner. Substantial and scathing criticism of this curriculum, from Neolog (rabbinical) circles, was directed against Goldziher as well, even if his name was not explicitly mentioned.³⁹⁴ Goldziher’s popular lecture series in 1887– 1888 (attended mostly by Jewish university students) on “The Essence and Evolution of Judaism” was conceived to promote his ideal and demand of a modern, “honest [Jewish] theology and sci-

 Schön (1851–?) was president of the organization of the teachers of religion of the Pest Jewish community from its establishment (1885) until 1906, except for about a year (in 1886 – 1887) when Goldziher served as president.  Schön, “A középiskolai hitoktatás”; he refers explicitly to Goldziher only on p. 364.  Hochmuth, “A budapesti hittanárok tantervjavaslata”; Schön, “Válaszul Hochmuth Ábrahám főrabbi úrnak.”  For the latter issue, see Hochmuth, “A budapesti hittanárok tantervjavaslata,” 699; for the Geigerian views, see ibid., 697– 698; his criticism is directed against Goldziher, “A bibliai tudomány és a modern vallásos élet.”  See Ch. VIII.  Vajda, “Vallásoktatás,” esp. 754– 755, 758, 760, 47– 48, 50; Turán, “Martin Schreiner and Jewish Theology,” 59 – 61.

114

IV Between Education and Scholarship

ence of religion.” The audience had shrunk, and he terminated the series after six lectures, as he says, “in order to save my honor” (T 111).³⁹⁵ Those who understood the difficulty of attracting an audience (the so-called “educated public”) for such lectures were not surprised by the dwindling turnout.³⁹⁶

The “Platform” of the Budapest Rabbinical Seminary Under the same banner of “honest theology” and up-to-date “science of religion,” Goldziher called (in an 1880 memorandum) for the introduction of a number of disciplines into the curriculum of the Rabbinical Seminary, including: history of religion and comparative science of religions, Jewish systematic philosophy of religion, biblical theology, history of biblical literature, and the geography, archaeology, and ethnography of Palestine.³⁹⁷ His proposals encountered strong opposition, and consequently his efforts to initiate the academic

 Beyond the four main topics covered by these six lectures (prophetism, rabbinism, the impact of philosophy, and the modern science of religion), Goldziher also planned to cover the unity of God, holiness, the mission of Israel, and messianism; see Heller, “Goldziher Ignác emlékezete,” 24. Although Heller does not give his sources, there is no reason to question the authenticity of this information (mentioned also, without reference, by Hidvégi, “Immánuel Löw’s Reflections,” 75), which confirms, partly at least, Goldziher’s quoted explanation for terminating his lecture series contrary to his original plans. This piece of information apparently escaped the attention of the editor (see his note at the end of Hidvégi’s paper, 79 – 81), who effectively dismisses Goldziher’s account. That account, however, is also substantiated by the introductory lecture itself in which Goldziher listed only four topics that he planned to speak about subsequently (A zsidóság lényege, 42) and made it clear that these topics on the “evolution” (one may call it the “historical theology”) of Judaism constituted only the first part of his lecture series, which he planned to continue with lectures on the “essence” (the “systematic theology”) of Judaism” (ibid., 40; cf. Turán, “Schreiner,” n. 30). He decided to abandon this latter plan. Interestingly, the introductory lecture was first published under the title “A zsidó vallás fejlődéséről” [On the Evolution of the Jewish Religion]. Likewise, in Heller’s Bibliographie, 41, no. 125, this general title is given for the five lectures published in Goldziher’s lifetime (the same title is also used by Scheiber, “Goldziher Ignác levelei,” for the six lectures delivered), while “The Essence and Evolution of Judaism” appears as the title of the introductory lecture (Heller omits other data related to its publication, however). Although this more comprehensive title is referenced twice in Goldziher’s introductory lecture, the short general title (used by Heller) seems adequate in light of the aforementioned circumstances.  Lipót Kecskeméti even predicted it: “Berlin zsidóságáról,” 371– 374.  Schmelczer, “Goldziher Ignác beadványa az Országos Rabbiképző Intézet tantervének ügyében,” 130 – 136. The essential points of this proposal were also presented in his “A bibliai tudomány.” Leopold Löw voiced similar concerns for the would-be curriculum of the Seminary: Die jüdischen Wirren in Ungarn, 87.

The “Platform” of the Budapest Rabbinical Seminary

115

study of (Jewish) religion as he conceived it—and this is the second meaning of “academic religion” concerning Goldziher—had little chance to succeed in Hungary. He did not give up entirely his plans; in 1886 he—again—lamented over the fact that under the heading of “Jewish religious philosophy” only medieval Jewish religious philosophy (in its speculative-dogmatic genre) is taught in the Rabbinical Seminary (by Kaufmann), instead of “positive modern science of religion.”³⁹⁸ Yet, from 1900, when he took over Kaufmann’s classes in (medieval) Jewish religious philosophy after the latter’s death, he was in a position to implement some of his ideas. From time to time he taught a course on the general history of religions (cf. T 311).³⁹⁹ Remarkably, when decades later Goldziher’s opinion was sought in the planning of the Hebrew University, he remained faithful to his principles. In 1919 the Zionist leader Shemaryahu Levin turned to Goldziher “as one of the leading authorities on Hebrew scholarship” (‫)בתור אחד מגדולי המדע העברי‬, urging him to express his ideas on this prospective university (which is meant to be “the university of the [entire] Hebrew nation”) and on “how to make the Hebrew University a truly Hebrew university.”⁴⁰⁰ As for the overall aspirations of the planned institution, Goldziher insisted in his response that “[t]he university to be established, with God’s help, in the Holy City [Jerusalem], cannot be inferior [in its standards] to Western universities.”⁴⁰¹ As for the specifics of the university’s research program as he envisioned it, he stressed above all the importance of three areas

 Goldziher, “Abulvalid,” 277.  For the courses taught by Goldziher at the Seminary, see Blau and Klein, eds., Festschrift zum 50 jährigen Bestehen der Franz-Josef-Landesrabbinerschule in Budapest, I (Budapest: n. p., 1927), 54. Among the 42 semesterial courses offered by Goldziher during his 21 years of teaching there, we find 10 courses (unevenly distributed in time) with titles like “the science of religion” and “the development of religion.” At Budapest University, Goldziher taught courses on Semitic and comparative mythology five times between 1874 and 1881, but no such courses (or others in the history of religions) subsequently.  The latter three quotations are taken from Levin’s letter dated October 30, 1919 (GIL/25/18/ 03). Emphases in the original.  In his reply to Goldziher (December 30, 1919; GIL/25/18/01) Levin cites this last sentence from Goldziher’s letter which is dated November 6, 1919 (this is the correct date which is erroneously given in the letter). Goldziher’s letter (expert opinion) was briefly mentioned by Heller in his laudatory articles on Goldziher already in the latter’s lifetime (“Goldziher.,” 3), and later as well (“Goldziher Ignác emlékezete,” 25 – 26). For many years I tried to locate this letter in vain; fortunately, it was found recently (in the Central Zionist Archives) by Dr. Amit Levy, who is going to publish it in a forthcoming article in the proceedings of the Goldziher-conference held in Göttingen, November 2021. I am grateful to him for providing me with a digital copy of this letter.

116

IV Between Education and Scholarship

of study: (1) the “science of religion(s),”⁴⁰² focusing on Semitic religious ideas, the relation of Judaism to other religions, and the ethical moment in Judaism, which is the “purpose of our existence” (i. e., of Jewish existence) and which is “sinfully neglected by us” (i. e., by Jews); Jewish theology and religious thought should be taught at the same “faculty,” from the Bible (as elucidated by modern Biblical scholarship), through medieval Jewish philosophy, to modern thinkers such as Samson Raphael Hirsch and Abraham Geiger; (2) oriental languages and oriental philology, and particularly Arabic, to enable students to delve into Judeo-Arabic literature; and (3) the archaeology of Palestine.⁴⁰³ Thus, even in this different historical and institutional context, Goldziher’s basic attitude toward Jewish higher education (whether in rabbinical training or in a university setting), remained the same. He strove to prescribe the highest academic standards as he understood them. In his vision the history of its religious thought should be put at the center of the study of Judaism, applying the categories and methods of the “science of religion.” In this discipline he apparently found little to no place for earlier and later rabbinic literature in both its halakhic and non-halakhic branches. Goldziher had a troubled relationship with the Rabbinical Seminary. He was involved in the establishment of this institution (T 87), taught there, and was a member of its board since its establishment until his appointment as full professor at the university (1880 – 1905) (T 249),⁴⁰⁴ but he was never appointed as a full professor. This was one of the reasons for his resentment against the Rabbinical Seminary and its professors. His conflict with the seminary, aside from strong personal issues,⁴⁰⁵ was also a late manifestation of the old controversy about  ‫חכמת האמונות והדתות‬, in the plural; but Goldziher adds in English in parenthesis: “(Science of religion),” in the singular.  Besides these three areas of study, in his memorandum Goldziher mentions two additional (more standard) core disciplines: he advocates for dealing with Jewish history as a field of its own and not as part of world history, and concerning the history of Jewish literature he advises to emphasize the importance of Jews in furthering and disseminating scientific knowledge as authors and translators.  The claim that Goldziher was a member of the Board until his death in 1921 (e. g., Festschrift zum 50 jährigen Bestehen, 32) seems erroneous. In any case, his membership started to become increasingly nominal and formal already at an early stage, it seems. He rarely attended its meetings after the early 1880s (T 210; February 9, 1897), probably due to his disappointment over the rejection of most of his proposals concerning the curriculum of the institution. These facts seem to be confirmed by the surviving protocols of the board stored in the Hungarian Jewish Archives.  Goldziher’s agreement to take over Kaufmann’s classes in religious philosophy after the latter’s death is presented in the diary as an offer from the Seminary to him which he was inclined to reject, but could not “if the offer is done in some appropriate way” (T 225 – 226; February 4, 15, 26, 1900). In fact it is clear that Goldziher was heavily involved in the efforts to find a successor

The “Platform” of the Budapest Rabbinical Seminary

117

whether a rabbinical seminary or a general, non-Jewish academic institution (e. g., a university, or a Jewish theological faculty within a university) would be the appropriate institutional framework for Judaic scholarship. It was mandatory for students at the Rabbinical Seminary of Budapest to pursue parallel studies at the university,⁴⁰⁶ and rabbinical students received their ordination only if they obtained a doctorate there (it seems Goldziher tutored or co-tutored at least the third of the doctoral dissertations of rabbinical students which were submitted while he taught at the Seminary).⁴⁰⁷ However, all these provisions were only partial remedy from Goldziher’s perspective. He (like Zunz and Steinschneider) was in favor of virtually unrestricted academic freedom, and he mocked the pseudo-academic parochialism of every religious denomination, especially his own. The role of scholarship—and especially biblical criticism—was a controversial issue in most modern rabbinical seminaries, including the Budapest Rabbinical Seminary (T 298; May 10, 1917). As a follower of Geiger, Goldziher’s views were too “liberal” to fit the (virtual) religious-theological platform of the Rabbinical Seminary and “mainstream” Neologs in general.⁴⁰⁸ This was the main reason for the opposition to his appointment at the seminary, in addition to the fact that Goldziher had no rabbinic ordination. We took note of Goldziher’s implicit and partial self-criticism concerning his Mythos-book. As further indication of his thinly veiled self-criticism, “oral tradition” on Goldziher maintains that he felt it was inappropriate for a Jew to be engaged in sensitive questions about “canonical” works of classical Jewish heritage —similar to a surgeon who is afraid of operating on his own mother who is in critical condition.⁴⁰⁹ If and when Goldziher indeed arrived at such an under-

(presumably through Samuel Kohn and others), and probably, at some stage, to secure this position for himself; see Scheiber, “Előszó,” 13 – 14, and cf. Martin Schreiner’s letter to Goldziher, GIL/38/01/029 (undated). This contradiction disappears if we consider that while Goldziher had serious reservations about the Seminary, he also felt responsibility with regard to the curriculum and how religious philosophy is taught there.  Particulars of this obligation changed a few times in the history of the Seminary.  Cf. Wilke, “From Talmud Torah to Oriental Studies,” 91– 95. Half of the total of 283 dissertations were submitted in the period when Goldziher taught at the Seminary, and almost half of the dissertations apparently tutored (or co-tutored) by him were textual editions of parts of two Judeo-Arabic works. For a bibliographical list of the dissertations, see Carmilly-Weinberger, ed., The Rabbinical Seminary of Budapest, 321– 332.  Goldziher records in his diary that some members of the Rabbinical Seminary’s Board condemned the Tendenz of his works as “nihilistic” and “atheistic” (T 212; March 3, 1897).  See Lőwinger, “Goldziher,” 170 – 171. Cf. Maimonides, Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot mamrim, 5.7. Certain critical approaches to studying one’s own religion may also be compared, homiletically, to an incestuous relationship; cf. Prov. 7:4.

118

IV Between Education and Scholarship

standing, it undermined one of his main critiques of Neolog rabbis and professors of the Rabbinical Seminary. Disappointment over his educational efforts, as well as his rather radical views on education and the role that scholarship must play in it, alienated him from the Neolog establishment and many of his former friends. He gradually withdrew from Jewish scholarship not because of the unfavorable reception of his early Mythos-book, but upon realizing, over many years, the irrelevance of his scholarly work for shaping the future of local Jews, and for his loss of hope for meaningful dialog between Jewish scholarship and Jewish education in Hungary.

V Between Islamic and Jewish Law For Goldziher, scholarship and education were the main catalysts of religious progress. He learnt and tried to demonstrate the necessity and possibility of such progress in Judaism and Islam not from theology, but from studying the role and development of religious law and custom in these religious civilizations. In this chapter we examine the intriguing interplay of his insights into Jewish and Islamic law. Islamic law—especially jurisprudence, and the origins, development, and literary history of tradition (Sunna and Hadith)—are among those fields in which Goldziher’s work had the strongest impact on later scholarship. Among the issues addressed in his works time and again, we find the following: the origins, nature, and function of Sunna and Hadith; their relation to the Quran⁴¹⁰; theoretical law versus applied law and legal practice⁴¹¹; dogmatism and uniformity versus pluralism and diversity, in theory and practice⁴¹²; accommodating tendencies and methods;⁴¹³ schools and local traditions⁴¹⁴; the distinction between legal and non-legal traditions⁴¹⁵; aspects of transmission (Traditionswesen)⁴¹⁶; traditional historical, philological, and legal criticism of traditions (Traditionswissenschaft)⁴¹⁷; and foreign (especially Roman) influences on Islamic law and jurisprudence.⁴¹⁸  Muh. St. II, 19 – 21.  “A muhammedán jogtudomány eredetéről,” 394; “Muhammedanisches Recht in Theorie und Wirklichkeit,” esp. 354– 356, 362– 366, 370; “Die Fortschritte der Islam-Wissenschaft,” 455 – 456.  “Beiträge zur Literaturgeschichte der Śî‛â,” 266 – 268; Az iszlám, 191– 192, 202– 206, 419 – 427; Die Ẓāhiriten, 94– 102 (The Ẓāhirīs, 89 – 96); Vorlesungen, 51– 52, 181– 185, 201– 202; Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 47– 48, 162– 168; “Die Fortschritte der Islam-Wissenschaft,” 459 – 461; “Katholische Tendenz und Partikularismus im Islam.”  “Das Princip des istiṣḥâb in der muhammedanischen Gesetzwissenschaft,” 229—230; “Muhammedanisches Recht in Theorie und Wirklichkeit,” 359 – 361, 365 – 368. Traditions that regard leniency as a value in itself are mentioned in ibid., 366, and Vorlesungen, 59 – 67, Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 55 – 63; however, only the latter work mentions the Talmudic parallel.  Az iszlám, 185 – 189, 202– 206.  Muh. St. II, 153 – 170; “Hadith,” 134; Vorlesungen, 43 – 44, 48; Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 40, 44. Cf., however, Plessner, “Y. Y. Goldziher,” 298, n. 33.  On written and oral transmission, see Muh. St. II, 194– 202, and below, notes 421 and 440 on literal versus non-literal transmission, see Az iszlám, 178 – 180; on the emergence of textual variants, see Muh. St. II, 236 – 245.  “Zur Charakteristik G´elal ud-dîn us-Sujûṭī’s,” 63 – 66 (“Ignaz Goldziher on al-Suyūṭī,” 91– 94); Az iszlám, 147– 192; Muh. St. II, 236 – 274; “Die Fortschritte der Islam-Wissenschaft,” 450. In turning his interest toward Hadith (and the fabrication of traditions in particular), as https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285-007

120

V Between Islamic and Jewish Law

It suffices to replace Sunna and Hadith with the Jewish notion of “Oral Law” (“Tradition”), and the Quran with “Written Law” (Hebrew Scriptures), in order to see to what degree this landscape resembles Jewish law and its study—landscapes which, taken as a whole, may be quite unique to Judaism and Islam by virtue of their complementary duality of Scripture and “Tradition,” which encompasses all aspects of life. This thematization is very similar to the program of previous Wissenschaft des Judentums scholarship on the history of oral law, and to problems that preoccupied Samuel David Luzzatto, Abraham Geiger, Zacharias Frankel, and Leopold Löw, just to mention a few outstanding names. A great deal of early Jewish scholarship on these themes explored oral law as a vehicle of adaptation and “progress” in Judaism.⁴¹⁹ In Chapter III, we mentioned the view shared by many of Goldziher’s colleagues and disciples that Goldziher’s traditional Jewish upbringing accounted for his unique grasp of Islam.⁴²⁰ Of course, Jewish education was not a prerequisite for being interested in problems of Islamic law or conducting research on them.⁴²¹ Yet there is little doubt that Goldziher’s understanding of Islamic law was enriched and sharpened by his knowledge of Rabbinics and nineteenth-century Jewish discourse on “oral law,” to which he was fully exposed already in his childhood.

well as in other matters, Goldziher seems to have received many impulses from his readings of al-Suyūṭī’s and Ibn al-Gawzī’s works (most of them in manuscript form), especially during his stay in Leiden in 1871; “Linguistisches aus der Literatur der muhammedanischen Mystik,” 165 – 166, 182– 183; “Beiträge zur Literaturgeschichte der Śî‛â,” 267; Az iszlám, 148, 176 – 177; T 48 – 49. Goldziher dates the origins of his interest in Hadith to this very period (T 50).  See 123 – 124 below.  Geiger’s positive view of Pharisaism, quite innovative for his time and milieu (see also Ch. VII below), is only one voice (although a powerful one) in a symphony in the second third of the nineteenth century. See also Turan, “Leopold Löw,” 59*–61*. All of the aforementioned research questions remain important for Jewish scholarship today, and some still have religious-political significance.  Heller was the first to provide some examples: “Goldziher, Ignaz,” 500. In Simon’s opinion, the aforementioned view is “meaningless,” “sinister,” obscures the matter, and is also rejected by Goldziher himself apropos the alleged analogy between Islamic and Jewish “Written Law” and “Oral Law” (and between Talmudic and early Islamic prohibitions against writing down “oral” traditions: Muh. St. II, 194– 196) (Ignác Goldziher, 19 – 20). The problems inherent in these claims are manifold. The present book presents, I hope, compelling cumulative evidence for the “old” view. See also the beginning of the long citation from T on p. 93 above and see below, notes 440, 441, 478 and Kramer, “Introduction,” 15.  Alois Sprenger (to whom Goldziher gave much credit) already discussed problems of written versus oral and literal versus non-literal transmission of Hadith in his “Über das Traditionswesen bei den Arabern.” On Snouck Hurgronje, see below.

V Between Islamic and Jewish Law

121

His hometown, Székesfehérvár, was a battleground between progressives and conservatives (Orthodox) from the late 1840s to the early 1860s and beyond.⁴²² The famous polemic about Zacharias Frankel’s views on the nature of oral law as expounded in his Darkhei ha-Mishnah (1859) was initiated by Gottlieb Fischer, a lay—“orthodox”—leader of the local Jewish community (and later rabbi of the local Orthodox community).⁴²³ As Goldziher himself records in his diary, he entered into extended polemical correspondence in 1861– 1862 with his cousin about this issue. As he writes in his memoir, at that time (and with regard to that subject) he was a champion of Orthodoxy and Talmudism. In local, political disputes between the two camps, however, he was torn between his father’s position (who sided with the progressives) and his beloved teacher’s position (who aligned with the Orthodox).⁴²⁴ Caught between these two poles, he learned to loathe religious-political squabbles (T 21– 22), and reflected also on the majority-minority dynamics within Jewish communities and global Jewry.⁴²⁵ Furthermore, two of young Goldziher’s earliest articles in 1867 were published in Ben Chananja—a Jewish scholarly journal in Hungary and an important forum for similar ideological debates about the nature of oral law—as well as the editor Leopold Löw’s series of articles regarding the polemics surrounding Frankel’s book in 1861.⁴²⁶ It is largely due to Frankel and Löw that the historical-critical approach to law (which emerged in Germany in the early nineteenth century) made inroads into Jewish scholarship. Despite his Talmudic studies, attachment to Talmudic learning, and respect for it, Goldziher had no deep training in Talmudic literature, by local, contemporary standards. He was not seriously interested in it (or in scholarship on it) either, except its aggadic material and comparative aspects in general. He states: “We can say that the criticism applied by orthodox Islamic scholarship to [Islamic] tradition [überlieferte Traditionsgut] is the oldest example of such critical activity in the entire world literature”⁴²⁷—and students of various ancient literatures,

 Steinherz, “A székesfehérvári zsidók története,” 102– 106, 180 – 190, 539 – 548, 623 – 637.  Brämer, “Jüdische ‚Glaubenswissenschaft’,” 86 – 90.  This was the general context of young Goldziher’s polemic booklet on the history of liturgical poems (Sichat-Jiczchak), in which he sided with the progressives (who constituted the majority of the community), defending their claim concerning the non-binding nature of reciting the piyyutim (religious poems) inserted into core parts of the synagogue liturgy: Sichat-Jiczchak, 8 – 18.  Ibid., 17.  “Die Tradition.”  “Die Fortschritte der Islam-Wissenschaft,” 450; emphasis in the original.

122

V Between Islamic and Jewish Law

among them students of Talmudic literature, may disagree.⁴²⁸ Nevertheless, his work built a unique bridge between these related fields of jurisprudence, problems of transmission and literary history of law, etc. in Judaism and Islam. Jewish scholarship also took inspiration from Goldziher’s Islamic research, with some delay.⁴²⁹ Starting in the 1880s, Goldziher and his Dutch friend Snouck Hurgronje played a key role in introducing the historical study of Islamic law into scholarship.⁴³⁰ Goldziher’s interest in Sunna and Hadith can be attributed only partially to his Jewish background or to pioneering historical research on Jewish law. Most importantly, this interest was the natural outcome of his exposure to the whole spectrum of Islamic cultural history, especially during his student years in Berlin, Leipzig, and Leiden in 1868 – 1871. Snouck and Goldziher became interested in Hadith separately, it seems, but their mutual encouragement was critical for both of them in pursuing this field of study.⁴³¹

The Politics of Comparativism One finds not only structural analogies between Jewish and Islamic law, but also a wealth of similarities in detail between them.⁴³² In Goldziher’s works devoted to Islam, and Islamic law in particular, one finds a great amount of comparative Jewish material scattered throughout the texts, yet he was never attracted to com-

 The nature and depth of insider “criticism” of ancient traditions or literatures, oral or written, depended of course also on the nature of the particular body of tradition or literature they lived in, its modes and norms of transmission, etc.  I will discuss this topic elsewhere. Cf. Martin Schreiner’s letter (in Hungarian) to Goldziher, April 14, 1890: “If Jewish theologians would read [Muh. St. II] it would perhaps work its way back on the study of Jewish tradition, although there are huge differences between the [notions of] tradition in the two religions. Judaism was saved from falsifications of tradition in Islam by Dt. 17.11, which provided authority for Oral Torah without isnad” (GIL/38/01/136).  In his Az iszlám, a long chapter (123 – 206) is devoted to Hadith, which anticipated the fundamental ideas of the later, major chapter on the same topic (“Über die Entwickelung des Ḥ adîth”) in the second volume of his Muh. St.—as observed by Németh, “Goldziher’s Jugend,” 22– 24. Goldziher’s interest in Hadith-criticism is evident even in his earlier works such as the Beiträge zur Literaturgeschichte der Śî‛â, 269 – 274.  Cf. T 110, 112– 114. Snouck, “Goldziher Ignác,” 103. See also n. 453 below. On the impact of the “Historical School of Law” (associated often with Savigny) on Snouck, see Brugman, “Snouck Hurgronje’s Study of Islamic Law,” 87.  Cf., e. g., Libson, Jewish and Islamic Law.

The Politics of Comparativism

123

parative research.⁴³³ Highlighting Jewish influences on Islamic law was certainly not on Goldziher’s agenda, and he mentioned parallels and analogies between the two only sporadically and very briefly. Various factors may have accounted for this attitude.⁴³⁴ Comparisons in cultural studies (or avoiding them) often become part of “identity politics.” It appears that one of the reasons for Goldziher’s relative yet remarkable neglect of comparisons was his fear of “Judaizing”—and thereby “ghettoizing”—Islamic studies, which would bring also more harm than good to him and to “progressive forces” in Judaism and Islam.⁴³⁵ Perhaps this is why he minimizes his comparative references, especially in his Hungarian publications on Islam and in his works on fundamental issues of legal thought.⁴³⁶ Somewhat exceptional is his remark in one of his longer studies to the effect that in Islam, only tradition, (religious) law, and jurisprudence are considered true sciences and their experts “scholars” in the true sense of the word, similar to the “Jewish way of thinking that developed from a similar basis.”⁴³⁷ Meanwhile, in his Hungarian papers on Judaism, intended primarily for a Jewish audience, he sometimes emphasizes the Islamic influences on Judaism.⁴³⁸ In his publications on Islam in western languages, he gives more consideration to possible Jewish connections and parallels concerning certain central

 Earlier scholarship on Goldziher noted this fact; see Becker (“I. Goldziher,” 217), and a number of reasons were cited for it by Goitein, “Goldziher,” 5 – 8, cf. also Cook, “The Opponents of the Writing of Tradition in Early Islam,” 509.  According to Goitein, for example, Goldziher was inclined to recognize cultural or religious “influences” only where there was no internal-organic explanation for the given phenomenon, motif, etc. See Goitein, “Goldziher,” 18 – 19. Goldziher’s general, cautious approach to “comparativism” is reflected by his remark in one of his reviews where he praises the author for his efforts “to keep himself away soberly from the wild chase for parallels and similarities”; Goldziher, “[Review of:] H. P. Smith, The Bible and Islam,” 1259.  Cf. also Ch. III, “Estrangement from Jewish scholarship,” and n. 441 below.  References are given more freely to parallels in religious issues; see, e. g., in Az iszlám, 175 (cf. 265, 267), 195, 386, 399, 553. For concrete legal parallels, see ibid., 161, 431– 432. In Islam as well as in Judaism—both “nomistic” religions (A zsidóság lényege, 75)—legal theory is inseparable from exegesis and from issues of authority and politics. Regarding creative legal exegesis, Goldziher briefly refers to a concrete parallel from the Jewish tradition in Az iszlám, 431– 432; as for resistance to legal codification as a matter of principle (historically an important trend in Jewish legal thought as well, cf. n. 440 below), no Jewish analogy is given (ibid., 420 – 421).  Goldziher, “A nyelvtudomány történetéről az araboknál,” 276; On the History of Grammar among the Arabs, 50. In this study, Goldziher made a number of additional comparative references, mostly to medieval Jewish linguistic-philosophical ideas.  “Abulvalid”; A zsidóság lényege, 96 – 99.

124

V Between Islamic and Jewish Law

questions about the development of Islamic law.⁴³⁹ One of them is the writing of “oral tradition,”⁴⁴⁰ and another is the general question of foreign (Jewish or Roman) influences.⁴⁴¹ Regarding these issues, he tends to stress the differences between Islam and Judaism, underlining the independence of Islamic law from Jewish law.⁴⁴² A third issue is plurality and dissent among scholars as a natural

 Cf. his letter quoted by Goitein, “Goldziher,” 18. Alfred von Kremer (see below, notes 468, 582) already cited examples of the influence of Talmudic law on Islamic law; see Goldziher, “Islam,” 657. See also Muh. St. II, 194– 196.  Michael Cook has argued for the existence of strong opposition to the written recording of “oral traditions” in early Islam, and for the Jewish origins of this opposition, in his “The Opponents of the Writing of Tradition.” He analyzes the twists and turns of Goldziher’s fluctuating position on this issue over time, and he also draws attention to the somewhat agitated tone of his argument in the Muh. St., hinting at possible ideological factors behind his approach: ibid., 440, 492– 493, 502– 503, and esp. 509. Two remarks should be added to his survey as far as Goldziher is concerned. One is that initially Goldziher opined that the original, prevailing norm in Islam was to transmit traditions only orally: Jelentés a M. T. Akadémia könyvtára számára keletről hozott könyvekről, 79 (Mestyan, “Ignác Goldziher’s Report on the Books,” 461); Az iszlám, 179. The other is that in the Jewish context he enthusiastically endorsed the rabbinic opposition to writing down Oral Law (“the decline of rabbinic freedom is proportional with the writing down [of rabbinic lore] due to external influences”) and S. D. Luzzatto’s opposition to the Maimonidean project of codifying Jewish law: A zsidóság lényege, 82– 83.  Muh. St. II, 75 – 76; Goldziher, “Islam,” 653, 657. Goldziher’s emphasis on Roman influences on Islamic law and his dismissal of even the possibility of Jewish influences is discussed in Crone, Roman, Provincial, and Islamic Law, 102– 106, who observes that behind Goldziher’s stance “there must have been personal rather than scholarly factors, and one may speculate that they had to do with his standing in European society: whereas a preoccupation with Jewish influence on Islamic law simply confirmed him as a Jew, a preoccupation with Roman influence on this law made him an exponent of one of the most prestigious aspects of European civilisation” (ibid., 106). One must note that Goldziher acknowledges the influence of Jewish aggadah on aggadic Hadith: “Hadith,” 134. He emphasizes Roman influences on Jewish law in his “Abulvalid,” 277. In his Hungarian essay “A muhammedán jogtudomány eredetéről,” Jewish law is not mentioned at all.  It is to be noted that concerning specific jurisprudential themes Goldziher was particularly interested, it seems, to mention Jewish and Islamic parallels in cases where he could point to a common root of both in Roman jurisprudence. In his “Das Princip des istiṣḥâb in der muhammedanischen Gesetzwissenschaft,” 229, 231, 233, for example, three parallels between Islamic and Talmudic jurisprudential principles are noted, and in the first two cases Roman law is specified as an alleged common ancestor (i.e., source) of the Islamic and the parallel Talmudic principle. We find a similar phenomenon in Goldziher’s works on folklore too; see his “Über Zahlenaberglauben im Islam,” where Talmudic parallels are cited for the preference for odd numbers in Islamic lore, and both are derived from Roman culture (mediating Greek ideas). Only a comprehensive investigation could shed light on the scope of this phenomenon in Goldziher’s oeuvre.

The Politics of Comparativism

125

and even rewarding, beneficial, or divinely sanctioned phenomenon;⁴⁴³ a fourth theme is the divine authentication of sayings that are (or will be) claimed to be part of “Tradition.”⁴⁴⁴ It is probably not a mere coincidence that his only fullfledged study of Islamic-Jewish connections in legal thought is devoted to an issue where Islamic sources engage in open polemics with Jewish sources.⁴⁴⁵ Goldziher’s apparently complex policy of making or omitting comparative references is also reflected in his treatment of “tradition” as an agent of adaptation to changing historical circumstances and a driver of religious progress. This notion was of paramount importance for Goldziher (as a historian and a progressive) in Islam and Judaism, yet it is never discussed side by side in both contexts in his works.⁴⁴⁶ A related and no less politicized issue was how Islamic and Jewish law were viewed as a whole. In western scholarship (in its Christian setting), both were regarded as “dry casuistry” until Zacharias Frankel, Goldziher, and others initiated the historical study of these fields.⁴⁴⁷ In his works on Islam (particularly in his comprehensive, semi-popular works) Goldziher often finds fault

 Vorlesungen, 52, 75 (Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 47– 48). In the earlier discussion of this topic in his Az iszlám (191– 192, 202– 206, 419 – 427) no references to Talmudic or other Jewish parallels (as given in the Vorlesungen) are provided.  Vorlesungen, 47 (Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 43 – 44). According to Islamic tradition Muhammad assured his followers that every saying in accordance with the Quran is his (whether or not he said it), and whatever is rightly spoken was spoken by him. As a parallel, Goldziher cites the Talmudic dictum: “[…] even that which an accomplished disciple will one day teach […], was already revealed to Moses at Mt. Sinai” (Talmud Yerushalmi, Hagigah 1:8 [76d] and parallels). The saying is attributed to R. Joshua b. Levi. Goldziher seems to admit that his discussion does not analyze these traditions in depth and does not do full justice to them (this is certainly true for the Talmudic parallel; see Conclusion). Goldziher’s casual reference glosses over non-negligible differences between these parallels. The Islamic maxims are attributed to the Prophet (Muhammad) himself without Quranic support; the Jewish maxim is attributed to a sage and supported by Biblical exegesis. While the cited Islamic maxims offer an (ultimately exegetical) method to authenticate individual statements attributed to the Prophet (Muhammad), the Talmudic parallel gives from the outset authentication to an entire class of statements by the Sages/scholars. As for the last two topics mentioned above (dissent among scholars and authentication of traditions), in light of Goldziher’s research it seems that the variations between the Islamic traditions and their Talmudic parallels show some similarities with each other with regard to their attributions and the support brought to the respective traditions— see his “Ethische Deutungen,” 73, n. 1.  “Kämpfe um die Stellung des Ḥ adīṯ in Islam.”  “It was the tradents’ purpose to syncretize life with lore, and to produce documents to serve as a theoretical foundation for the existing practice,” in Az iszlám, 174. See Vorlesungen, 56, 282– 285; Tradition und Dogma.  See Snouck Hurgronje’s obituary on Goldziher (in Hungarian, 103).

126

V Between Islamic and Jewish Law

with casuistry and hairsplitting of Islamic legal science,⁴⁴⁸ but sometimes praises rational and analogical methods in Islamic law and celebrates their impact as “the victory of spirit over the letter.”⁴⁴⁹ In Jewish law, by contrast, which always applied the same methods, he never saw anything but “dry casuistry,” except (parts of) Pharisaic Oral Law in the Talmudic period.⁴⁵⁰ Sometimes he found common ground for deriding Jewish and Islamic casuistry. Lecturing before members of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, he had no scruples about mocking the “hairsplitting” of modern Muslim legal scholars with the old scorn of “Pharisees and Scribes” in the Gospel of Matthew (23:15).⁴⁵¹ What were Goldziher’s motivations in making or omitting comparative observations between Islamic and Jewish law concerning a given issue, in a given publication? Only hypothetical answers can be given to such questions. In light of the cumulative evidence surveyed above, however, it is clear that he often grappled with the problem of the historical connection between seemingly parallel Islamic and Jewish legal and jurisprudential phenomena, and whether to present his comparative findings and views on them. While purely scientific interests may have justified occasional remarks of this sort, practical (political and “reform”) contexts and considerations probably often made them inadvisable for him.

Consensus (Ijmā‛) The mentioned dilemma is palpable particularly in Goldziher’s recognition of the role of custom, common beliefs, and prevalent opinions in the evolution of Jewish and Islamic religion and law. In this scholarly theme we also see intimately the interaction between his take on Jewish and Islamic Studies and commitments. The central notion of ijmā‛ in Islamic tradition (especially in jurisprudence)—meaning the consensus of the Muslim community as a legal source: the general conformity of normative practice, or scholarly consensus⁴⁵²—received

 Vorlesungen, 67– 70; Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 63 – 66; cf. Die Ẓāhiriten, 14– 18.  Az iszlám, 205.  A zsidóság lényege, 80 – 82. Cf. also below, p. 201.  Jelentés a M. T. Akadémia könyvtára számára keletről hozott könyvekről, 68 (Mestyan, “Ignác Goldziher’s Report on the Books,” 454).  On ijmā‛ in general, see Goldziher, Muh. St., passim; Vorlesungen, 54– 56; Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 50 – 52; “Die Religion des Islam,” 105 – 107. For more recent surveys, see Stewart, “Ejmā‘”; Syed, “Ijma‘.” The notion and its application are elusive and far from con-

Consensus (Ijmā‛)

127

greater scholarly attention after the studies of Goldziher and Snouck Hurgronje in the first half of the 1880s.⁴⁵³ In his later articles Goldziher returned to discuss also some aspects of the opposition to the ijmā‛-principle, “a symbol of Islamic catholicity,” and tolerant views concerning the binding character of norms based on “consensus.”⁴⁵⁴ Around the same time (in the first half of the 1880s) Goldziher’s use of similar notions and phraseology became ubiquitous in his Jewish writings too. Against those who maintained that there are explicit “dogmas” in Judaism, in 1884 (the year when he lectured and published for the first time on the origins of Muhammedan jurisprudence in Hungarian) he argued for the existence of fundamental religious truths accepted by a mostly silent “consensus” [közmegegyezés] in Judaism: The formulation of the basic tenets of the Jewish religion was the personal accomplishment of individual thinkers in every period. From the very beginning, the Jewish ecclesiastical

sensual; see Vorlesungen, 181– 182; Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 162– 163; Syed, “Ijma‘,” 277– 279. It was disputed what constitutes the “Muslim community,” and how to define “scholarly consensus.” In one of his first statements on ijmā‛, Goldziher paraphrases ijmā‛ both as “consensus ecclesiae” and as “consensus doctorum ecclesiae”: “A muhammedán jogtudomány eredetéről,” 400. The difference between the two is significant: widespread normative practice, custom, sometimes contradict the (quasi‐)consensus of the “doctors,” religious authorities. In the context of religious practice, he usually emphasizes the former—e. g., “Az egyiptomi iszlám,” 744; Muh. St., II, 368 – 371, 377 (cf. “Die Religion des Islams,” 106; in his “Az egyiptomi iszlám” the concept is rendered as “common sentiment” [közérzület]), speaking about popular religious customs related to the veneration of saints, frowned upon by Sunni Orthodoxy; for another example, see Muh. St., II, 284. In matters of theoretical law he tends to stress the latter meaning: “consensus doctorum ecclesiae” (e. g., Die Ẓāhiriten, 32– 35).  Goldziher gave much credit to Snouck for his pioneering research on ijmā‛: “Die Religion des Islam,” 105; “Az egyiptomi iszlám,” 744. In his Die Zahiriten (34, n. 2), however, he emphasizes his independence: Snouck’s “excellent work had not yet appeared at the time of the writing of the present study.”  “Katholische Tendenz und Partikularismus im Islam,” 310 – 312; “Über iǵmā‛.” B. Heller tried in vain to persuade Goldziher to replace the title of the first article, and the phrase “Catholic tendency” in particular, with something else—see his letter dated April 26, 1914; GIL/16/21/27. I surmise that the impact of Solomon Schechter’s famous notion of “Catholic Israel” is recognizable in the mentioned phrase. In a speech held in January 1913, for example, Schechter explained that the term “Catholic Israel” (coined by him many years before) was the equivalent of the Hebrew “klal Yisrael” (“[the people of] Israel in its entirety”): “His Majesty’s Opposition,” 244. Schechter visited Goldziher in Budapest on August 20, 1913 (see T 279)—a month before the latter delivered his lecture “Katholische Tendenz …” (on September 21 of the same year) in Stockholm. The dating of Schechter’s visit by Scheiber (“Letters of Solomon Schechter to William Bacher and Ignace Goldziher,” 257, 275) should be corrected accordingly. A perusal of Schechter’s telegram to Goldziher (GIL/37/22/02) makes clear the source of Scheiber’s error.

128

V Between Islamic and Jewish Law

community [egyházközösség] accepted consensually certain basic truths which were instinctively believed to be the basic tenets of Jewish religion—as it developed historically—and to flow forth involuntarily from the sources of Jewish religion. Rigid formulations, excluding any development and modification for all eternity were impossible not least owing to the very organization of the Jewish religious denomination [hitfelekezet] and we have no cause to regret this turn of events.⁴⁵⁵

A few years later in his proposal on Jewish education, he referred to the need for a “sincere Jewish theology that would complement and regulate the sense of the educated or cultivated Jewish public [művelt zsidó közérzület].”⁴⁵⁶ In his lecture series, he spoke about the importance of the scholarly articulation of the “sense of the educated Jewish public,” the “sense of the community,” and the “communal sentiment” [közérzület] in Judaism. Such scholarly assessments and articulations alone could declare religious ideas or practices “alive” or “dead”—either religiously fit and timely, or obsolete.⁴⁵⁷ It is this elusive “communal sentiment” that changes and evolves, and thus for Goldziher its articulation in historical theology replaces jurisprudence as the main instrument for regulating modern Jewish religious life and development. “Consensus,” in the Jewish context, comes close to Zeitgeist and scientific truth – mainly non-legal sources. In his later summary works on Islam, targeting the “educated/cultivated public,” Goldziher presents ijmā‛ in very similar terms. Unlike direct, top-to-bottom normative regulations by clerical authorities and “synods,” ijmā‛ is the “sense of the community,” the “collective consciousness” of Muslims—he uses the term Gesamtgefühl,⁴⁵⁸ Gemeingefühl,⁴⁵⁹ Gesammtbewusstsein,⁴⁶⁰ or similar circumlocutions⁴⁶¹—a “nearly unconscious vox populi”⁴⁶² that enables Islam to

 “A bibliai tudomány,” 154. Italics are in the original.  “Talmud-tóra, hittanítás,” 217. He refers to “the educated consciousness of our age” in his “A bibliai tudomány,” 156.  A zsidóság lényege, 35, 121; the phrase “sense of the community” [közérzület] is used three times in ibid., 126. Cf. “köztudat,” 121 (twice); also in his “Arabok,” 964; “common spirit” [közszellem], A zsidóság lényege, 126. See also his “A haladásról,” 621– 622: [közérzület, közmeggyőződés].  (Or Gesammtgefühl): Muh. St. II, 139; “Die Religion des Islam,” 106; Vorlesungen, 55, Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 51 (three times).  Muh. St. II, 139, 153; Vorlesungen, 55.  Muh. St. II, 371.  “Consensus der Gesammtgemeinde,” Muh. St. II, 85; “Gesammtansicht,” ibid., 86; “Gesammtübung,” ibid.; “Gesammtbewusstsein,” “Gesammtgefühl,” “Die Fortschritte der IslamWissenschaft,” 457– 458; “instinktive Gefühl der Masse,” Vorlesungen, 55.  Vorlesungen, 55. The “vox populi” features, in a particular context, already in his “Zur Charakteristik G´elal ud-dîn us-Sujûṭī’s,” 53 – 54 (“Ignaz Goldziher on al-Suyūṭī,” 81).

Consensus (Ijmā‛)

129

develop freely, and which overrules normative traditions and tolerates pre-Islamic customs or innovations when needed. This notion of “communal sentiment” or “consensus” as the highest, silent instance of regulating the real practices and beliefs of a legal-religious community played an important role in Goldziher’s thought already in the 1870s. Goldziher’s interest in ijmā‛ as a “human,” transindividual and semi-autonomous driving force in the development of Islamic tradition is recognizable already in his “The Place of the Spanish Arabs in the Evolution of Islam.”⁴⁶³ In characterizing Israelite prophecy, he puts emphasis in their struggle to restore and reinvigorate the “common soul” (közlélek)⁴⁶⁴ or “national mind/sentiment/spirit/ consciousness” (Volksbewusstsein; nationale Denken/Bewusstsein; nationaler Geist) of the Israelites.⁴⁶⁵ Goldziher’s notion of ijmā‛ is hardly separable from these European conceptual cousins, all related to Volksgeist; the intrinsic relation and the transition between the two is clearly documented by his semi-popular work on Islam published in 1881.⁴⁶⁶ His idea of the “sense of the community” and ijmā‛ had its origins in general philosophical and Christian (mainly Protestant) theological currents harking back to centuries, that reached Goldziher through the mediation of Steinthal, Kármán,⁴⁶⁷ Geiger, and other channels. Mid-nineteenth-century historiography and political thought itself already demonstrated an interest in characterizing a given culture or period by its “ruling ideas,” a concept close to the notion of the “sense of the (educated) public/community.” Note the title of books published in the 1850s and 1860s by Alfred von Kremer⁴⁶⁸ and József Eötvös,⁴⁶⁹  A spanyolországi arabok helye az iszlám fejlődése történetében, 158 – 160 (“The Spanish Arabs and Islam,” 91– 93). In an article published in 1873 Goldziher speaks about the “general sentiment among Arab scholars” that if a prophet could arise after Muhammad, Ghazali should be considered as that one (“Jelentés a M. T. Akadémia könyvtára számára Keletről hozott könyvekről,” 83 [= Mestyan, “Ignác Goldziher’s Report on the Books,” 464]). In “Zur Charakteristik G´elal ud-dîn us-Sujûṭī’s,” 55 (“Ignaz Goldziher on al-Suyūṭī,” 83) one opinion to that effect is cited.  “A vallásos eszme fejlődése a régi hébereknél,” 359 – 360.  Der Mythos bei der Hebräern, 276, 303 – 305; Mythology among the Hebrews, 229, 251– 253.  In Az iszlám, the term ijmā‛ is not used, but Goldziher resorts to related concepts (in explaining phenomena such as the cult of saints in Islam) such as “vox populi” (ibid., 224), “folk-spirit” (népszellem [Volksgeist]) (246, 263), “folk-religion” (as opposed to “theologians’ religion,” 287– 288), “instinct of the masses” (310), “common spirit” (közszellem), and “the soul of the collectivity as it developed historically” (422– 423).  Cf. Kármán, “A tantervek elméletéhez,” 100 – 101.  Von Kremer, Geschichte der herrschenden Ideen des Islams. On Goldziher’s appreciation of von Kremer, see Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 31– 33. Cf. also his citation from von Kremer in Az iszlám, 312, and his reference to him in the political context of ijmā‛: Muh. St. II, 98.

130

V Between Islamic and Jewish Law

scholars who made a profound impact on Goldziher. In Jewish religious thought, Abraham Geiger, referring to Yehuda Halevi, saw the entire Israelite people as the historical trustee of Revelation.⁴⁷⁰ Schelling’s idea of the nation (who stands on the shoulders of eighteenth-century thinkers) is cited by Goldziher in his Mythos-book: “a nation becomes a nation through community of consciousness (Gemeinschaft des Bewusstseins) between the individuals; and this community has its foundation in a common view of the world […].”⁴⁷¹ A Christian “communal sentiment” (Gemeingefühl) and “communal spirit” (Gemeingeist) played an important role in Schleiermacher’s ecclesiology, pneumatology, and pedagogy.⁴⁷² This cluster of related notions—Volksgeist, “sense of the community,” “ruling ideas”—should be seen the immediate sources of Goldziher’s notions of Jewish “communal sentiment” and ijmā‛, so central in his thought. These concepts were suitable to convey the (relative) coherence and stability of the theological-ideological aspects of transnational, essentially Church-less and dogmaless Judaism and Islam. They also served as convenient substitutes and alternatives to what “dogma” means in Christian religious discourse and in the science of religion. These notions were essential for Goldziher’s historical reconstructions of Islam and Judaism—and also, as we will see (in Chapter VII), his visions of religious progress and renewal. The “sense of the community” and related conceptual antecedents were important in the development of Goldziher’s thought, even if they were operative in the realm of philosophy, theology, or folklore more than in religious law and custom proper. Nevertheless, also a more narrowly normative-legalistic understanding of these concepts would find important antecedents in the so-called “Historical School of Law” (and in the seventeenth and eighteenth-century thought of Vico, Montesquieu, and others, as well as romanticism), and also in Talmudic and medieval rabbinic and Karaitic literatures.⁴⁷³ All the mentioned elements were part of historical and theological discourses for decades before Goldziher took up these issues, and it is very likely that Goldziher learned about custom,

 Eötvös, Der Einfluss der herrschenden Ideen des 19. Jahrhunderts auf den Staat.  Geiger, Das Judentum und seine Geschichte, 33 – 35. Goldziher in his “A bibliai tudomány,” 157, briefly refers to the entire chapter in Geiger’s work that includes this passage.  Der Mythos bei der Hebräern, xvi; Mythology among the Hebrews, xxii.  Molendijk, “Ernst Troeltsch über Friedrich Schleiermacher’s Auffassung von der Kirche,” 374– 377; Hardecker, Bildung – Eindruck und Ausdruck der Religion, 147– 148, 157– 167.  Blidstein, Authority and Dissent in Maimonidean Law, 93 – 95, 145 – 149. For Talmudic sources, see below, n. 476. Goldziher himself refers to one early rabbinic source, albeit indirectly, in Vorlesungen, 75, n. 4. For Karaitic versions of ijmā‛, see Goldziher, “Mélanges judéo-arabes [i– viii],” 6.

Consensus (Ijmā‛)

131

“common popular consciousness/conviction,” “Volksgeist,” “and “consensus” as agents of legal development and sources of law (in a Jewish and European historical context) already in the 1860s.⁴⁷⁴ Within Jewish theological and reform-discourse, this notion recalls Zacharias Frankel’s emphasis on the role of the “popular will” or consent in legitimizing changes or “reforms” in Judaism,⁴⁷⁵ and Leopold Löw’s views (mostly from the 1860s) on the significance of “bottomup” development in halakhah.⁴⁷⁶ The idea is also present in Geiger’s writings; his emphasis on the supremacy of “custom” (minhag), consensus, and “general acceptance” over Talmudic norms (halakha), and particularly their relativization according to time and place, served his progressive agenda.⁴⁷⁷

 Goldziher apparently heard about Friedrich Carl von Savigny (1779 – 1861) and his “Historical School of Law” in rabbinic contexts already from S. L. Brill between 1865 and 1868, when Goldziher studied Talmud with him in Pest: [Keleti, I.=] Goldziher, “Brill Sámuel Löw rabbi,” 3. See von Savigny, Vom Beruf unsrer Zeit für Gesetzgebung und Rechtswissenschaft, 8, 11– 13 (Of the Vocation of Our Age for Legislation and Jurisprudence, 24, 28 – 29); for apparent differences between “common popular consciousness” (Savigny) and “Volksgeist” (Georg Friedrich Puchta, 1798 – 1846) within the “Historical School of Law,” see Jakobs, Die Begründung der geschichtlichen Rechtswissenschaft, 55 – 57, 63, 79.  Frankel, “Über Reformen im Judenthume,” 19 – 27 (Gesammtheit, Volkswille, Gesammtwille, Volksgeist); cf. idem, “Die Symptome der Zeit,” 15 – 16, and Heinemann, Ta‘amei ha-mitzvot, II, 166 – 167. On the impact of von Savigny’s school on Frankel, see Harris, How Do We Know This?, 193 – 197; Brämer, Rabbiner Zacharias Frankel, 258 – 261.  Turan, “Leopold Löw,” 64*; 68*–70*, esp. 69*–70*, n. 90. Talmudic sources relevant to our subject are cited by Löw in his referenced works on page 70*, n. 90.  Geiger, “Ansprache an meine Gemeinde,” 96 – 98. As early as 1835 Geiger, in polemics with Christian theologians, defends Rabbinism and defines its notion of “tradition” as the principle of timely development and of “not being slaves of the letters of the Bible, but rather reproducing itself according to its [the Bible’s] spirit and according to the genuine religious consciousness that permeates the Synagogue (das ächte Glaubensbewusstsein, das die Synagoge durchdringt)”; Geiger, “Der Kampf christlicher Theologen gegen die bürgerliche Gleichstellung der Juden,” 349. Continuing the same argument (ibid., 349), in order to weaken the authority of Talmudic tradition by showing its relative inferiority to the consensus of entire Israel, he quotes Maimonides (Introduction to his Mishneh Torah) who anchors the binding authority of rabbinic enactments in the Talmud in the mentioned consensus, rather than in their inherently traditional content. Geiger quoted his own arguments seven years later in the so-called Tiktin-Affair again, in his “Ansprache an meine Gemeinde,” 92– 93, 95. For “popular sentiment” [Volksgefühl], see the quotation in Goldziher’s A zsidóság lényege, 123 (Geiger, “[Brief] an L. R. Bischoffsheim,” 349). See also Geiger’s remark that “theology is nothing but the common sense [Gesammtbewusstsein] of the religious community, translated scientifically” (“Einleitung in das Studium der jüdischen Theologie,” 27). It seems that the difference between the “individualist” philosophical-historical approach of Geiger and the “collectivist” approach of Goldziher is overstated in Fraisse, “From Geiger to Goldziher.” I prefer to see the difference between them in terms of top-bottom versus bottom-up; see Ch. VII.

132

V Between Islamic and Jewish Law

The close connection between these ideas on the one hand, and Goldziher’s emphasis on the importance of Jewish education on the other, is easily recognizable. In ijmā‛, Goldziher found an Islamic concept somewhat more articulate and developed in its own tradition than parallel notions in the Jewish tradition, and which expressed and reinforced a lay, “democratic” feature and ideal central to him in Judaism, and central to his critique of modern Judaism. Some final remarks. Goldziher’s notion of the “sense/consciousness of the community,” a core element of his thinking on Judaism and Islam, drew on diverse intellectual traditions. Judaism was one of them, but one can hardly assess its scope and weight in the surveyed amalgam of sources—partly because the border between “Judaic” and “non-Judaic” was blurred in part of the mentioned traditions.⁴⁷⁸ It is worth noting that the recognition of common or collective consciousness as a major formative and regulatory factor of individual cognition (including religious norms and beliefs) gained ground in philosophy and social thought in the last decades of the nineteenth century, due to contributions of numerous thinkers—more than a few of them of Jewish extraction, especially from Émile Durkheim’s (1858 – 1917) times. To explore the role of possible Jewish influences on the thought of these scholars (mostly “non-Jewish Jews”) is an even more challenging task than in the case of Goldziher.⁴⁷⁹

 What is important for us here is this parallel development and mutual illumination of Goldziher’s perceptions of the role of the popular/communal sentiment in Judaism and Islam. There is probably no point in deriving his perception of this idea in Judaism from ijmā‛, or vice versa (cf. Fraisse, Ignác Goldzihers monotheistische Wissenschaft, 88 – 89, 137– 138, 155). Simon’s observation regarding Goldziher, however, deserves attention: “That he always gave priority to the principle of community over the institutions and the state derives from his Jewish ‘ethnic’ sentiments” (“[…] zsidó ‘nemzetiségi’ érzületéből fakadt, […]”), Ignác Goldziher, 96—translation is modified). How this statement fits the oft-repeated observation (shared also by Simon, Ibid., 55, 59 – 62) that the Jewish “identity” “ideal” of Goldziher was an exclusively or predominantly religious and non-ethnic one is another question; cf. below, Ch. VI, “Religion, people, or culture?”.  Can we point to specifically Jewish experiences and perspectives that may have contributed to the emergence of the notion of “collective consciousness”? Discussing Durkheim (among others), Nyíri (“Collective Reason: Roots of a Sociological Theory of Knowledge”) and other scholars were inclined to give an affirmative answer to this question. Discussing possible Judaic influences on Durkheim’s thought in general, Strenski (Durkheim and the Jews of France, especially 1– 15) gave a decidedly negative answer, and labelled the affirmative answer as “essentialist.” Strenski’s own line of thought can be called “subjectivist,” inasmuch as it effectively denies the possibility of echoes of Jewish experiences or thought patterns operative in Durkheim’s thought in the absence of the latter’s positive identification with and explicit references to Judaism in the relevant contexts. And if we are interested here more specifically in Durkheim’s ideas

Hadith-criticism as Talmud-criticism?

133

Hadith-criticism as Talmud-criticism? Goldziher’s research on the history of Islamic law was epoch-making.⁴⁸⁰ Once he posed a rhetorical question about Henri Lammens, a Jesuit scholar of Islam who developed a hypercritical approach to early Islam based on Goldziher’s Hadithcriticism: “What would remain from the Gospels if he were to apply his Quranmethod to them?”⁴⁸¹ One could ask in a similar vein: what would remain from the Talmud if Goldziher’s Hadith-method was applied to it? Goldziher presumably held “liberal” and critical views on the origins, nature, development, and literary history of Jewish Oral Law—views similar to Geiger’s or Leopold Löw’s ideas—but he never elaborated on these issues.⁴⁸² It was a sensitive topic in contemporary Judaism in Hungary, as it was for Zacharias Frankel in Germany. Did Goldziher have any hidden agenda behind his work on Hadith? Does his work on Hadith have any implications for research on the nature and history of Jewish oral law? I am not aware of any example of such an implicit relationship or shift between the two fields in the biography of any scholar of stature before Goldziher, but Islamic studies as a sort of substitute for ideologically sensitive research in Jewish studies was not unprecedented in the Central European Jewish intellectual environment. In a letter to Leopold Löw in 1860, Adolf Jellinek (another longtime student of Fleischer) mentions several religious-legal issues, which, in his view, should be dealt with in Löw’s periodical (Ben Chananja) due to their centrality for contemporary Jewish life. One of these issues was the status of Christianity in Jewish law. Jewish law, Jellinek contends, must distinguish between Catholicism and Protestantism. But since this issue cannot be addressed in “Austria,” he instead suggests discussing, “as a façade,” the status of Islam in Jewish law, distinguishing between Sunnis, Shiites, and other, “more anthropomorphist” sects.⁴⁸³

about “collective consciousness,” it should be noted that Strenski’s line of argument contradicts the notion itself.  For the history of research and the critical reception of Goldziher’s contributions to this field, see Motzki, The Origins of Islamic Jurisprudence, 1– 49 (esp. 10 – 16 on Goldziher); Jokisch, “Origins of and Influences on Islamic Law.”  Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 103 – 104, and see the exchange of letters between Nöldeke and Goldziher there, 360 – 367.  Cf. Turan, “Leopold Löw,” 59*–61*. His statements cited in n. 440 above are among his few relatively explicit statements related to this issue.  Jellinek, [Letter to Leopold Löw]. Cf. the interesting remark of Moshfegh (Ignaz Goldziher and the Rise of Islamwissenschaft, 195), who sees Shiism in Goldziher’s oeuvre and interpretation (at least in later stages of his scholarship) “as a kind of place-holder for ‘Christianity’, i. e.

134

V Between Islamic and Jewish Law

The hostile reception of his Mythos-book was the first major blow to Goldziher’s engagement with Jewish scholarship and religious “reform.” He thus gravitated toward Islamic studies in which he could work without ideological and religious restraints. As for his work on the formation of Hadith, it may be tempting to see in Goldziher’s critical insights a sort of camouflage or diversion—a veiled criticism of Jewish oral law—and to understand his research on this issue ultimately as subterfuge, while maintaining his critical methodology in investigating Judaism’s foundational religious documents.⁴⁸⁴ All of this is hypothetical, however. The fact remains that we know very little about Goldziher’s views on the early history of Jewish oral law and nothing about his views on the applicability of his research methods regarding Hadith to Jewish oral law.

Mysticism as a Remedy for Legalism In modern Judaism, “ethics,” religious inwardness, and devotion were emphasized by Jewish reform (as well as by Hasidism, mutatis mutandis) against Talmudic “casuistry” and “legalism.”⁴⁸⁵ The eleventh-century ethical-philosophical work of Baḥya ibn Paquda, influenced by Islamic mysticism, was one of Goldziher’s favorite books from his early childhood (T 18). Later, Goldziher made important contributions to research on medieval Jewish philosophy inspired by Neoplatonic and Islamic mysticism.⁴⁸⁶ His pronouncements about philosophicalascetic mysticism in Islam—and in particular its outstanding representative, al-Ghazali, whom he calls a “reformer”—leave little doubt that he viewed it and its Jewish counterpart as an antidote to legalistic formalism.⁴⁸⁷ In his view

an authoritarian incarnationism, within the Islamic sphere. What he could not say openly about ‘Christianity’ he said about ‘Shiism’.” Geiger’s work on Jewish influences on Islam (1833) was in fact a prelude to his later works on the Jewish background of Christianity; see Heschel, Abraham Geiger and the Jewish Jesus, 5 – 6, 51– 53, 62. I found no evidence, however, which shows that Geiger started to work on Islam as a substitute or as preparation for similar research on Christianity.  In support of such an interpretation, see also pp. 117 and 125 above.  See the brief survey of Leopold Löw on the role of devotion in prayer in Judaism through the ages (“Vergangenheit und Gegenwart der Chaßidäer,” 74– 75), with references by the editor (I. Löw) to works of Steinthal, Goldziher, and Schreiner.  The most important among them is his edition of, and commentary on, the Kitâb ma‛âni annafs. Goldziher inspired and encouraged his pupil A. S. Yahuda to edit the Arabic original of Baḥya’s work: Kitâb al-hidâja ilâ farâ’id al-Qutûb. See also Goldziher, “Materialen zur Entwickelungsgeschichte des Ṣûfismus”; Vorlesungen, 139 – 200.  “Jelentés a M. T. Akadémia könyvtára számára keletről hozott könyvekről,” 83 – 84 (Mestyan, “Ignác Goldziher’s Report on the Books,” 464– 465); A spanyolországi arabok, 195 – 196, 201– 204

Mysticism as a Remedy for Legalism

135

it was largely due to al-Ghazali that Islam’s “inflexible formalism,” “rigid legalism,” and “unyielding dogmatism” started to soften and “to draw impetus from deeper religious sentiments” in the twelfth century.⁴⁸⁸ It was under the influence of this religious current in Islam that Baḥya undertook to write his Duties of the Heart, in order “to create an ethical-ascetic complement in Jewish literature and theological theory vis-à-vis the one-sidedness of pursuing halakhic study and the status of halakhic study in religious life.”⁴⁸⁹ Baḥya and his younger contemporary al-Ghazali were twin stars on Goldziher’s horizon; they were important reference points for orientating himself in his campaign for “true piety” and against religious formalism, both Jewish and Islamic. However, he never made Jewish mysticism or Baḥya one of his significant research themes. He made purity and sincerity of devotion and intention subjects of research only in the Islamic realm. Moreover, it seems that his research was not entirely free of biased apologetics. In his early book on Islam (published in Hungarian), Goldziher defends Islam against various attacks and prejudices, among them claims (often voiced by Christian apologists) about the formalistic spirit of Islam and its lack of true piety.⁴⁹⁰ Goldziher’s main line of defense against such claims is a piece of early Islamic tradition that he encountered (perhaps for the first time) in Cairo in 1874, in the form of an inscription over one of the entrances of the mosque (and theological academy) Al-Azhar, where he studied:⁴⁹¹ “Deeds are judged according to intentions; each man’s accounts are drawn up according to his intentions.”⁴⁹² This means, in Goldziher’s interpretation, that “[i]ntention, that is, in the language of our true inward ethics: moral impulse, is what confers on an act its religious value.” In this saying a religion

(“The Spanish Arabs and Islam,” Muslim World 54 [1964]: 31, 36 – 38); Vorlesungen, 176 – 181, 184– 185 (Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 158 – 162, 165 – 166); etc. On similarities of al-Ghazali’s and Goldziher’s views on the contemporary religious life in their respective communities, see Conrad, “The Pilgrim from Pest,” 141– 142.  Goldziher, “A buddhismus hatása az iszlámra,” 866.  Goldziher, “[Review of:] A. S. Yahuda, Prolegomena zu einer erstmaligen Herausgabe des Kitāb al-hidāja ‘ila farā’iḍ al-qulūb,” 1933; cf. idem, “[Review of:] Yahuda (A.-S.). Prolegomena zu einer erstmaligen Herausgabe des Kitāb al-Hidāja ila farā’iḍ alqulūb,” 154.  Az iszlám, 447– 449, 451.  In the Diary (T 71) Goldziher states that he studied at Al-Azhar for four months. In fact he studied there for about two months, from early January (OrD 150 [January 5, 1874]) to early March, 1874; see Mestyan, “Ignác Goldziher’s Report on the Books,” 444.  Az iszlám, 454; cited also on 411 and 474.

136

V Between Islamic and Jewish Law

expresses itself, he adds, which “considers formalities only as means for expressing a deeper ethical sentiment.”⁴⁹³ In his Vorlesungen, the theme and the quoted epigraph recur as part of a wider historical scheme. According to Goldziher’s reconstruction, the properly high status accorded to the “piety of heart,” religious sentiment, asceticism, and devotion in early Islamic religious thought was undermined and ruined by political exigencies as well as—under foreign influence—by ascendant jurisprudence and legalistic formalism, until spiritual forces, particularly Sufism and al-Ghazali, reinstated “true piety” and “intention” (niyya) in its rights and extended them over the entire range of religious life.⁴⁹⁴ Paul R. Powers argued that Goldziher’s understanding and assessment of “intention” (niyya) was held hostage by his own conviction that true religion lies in inwardness and spiritual devotion.⁴⁹⁵ According to Powers, “intention” in Islamic ritual law in fact is typically not a supreme principle or an ethical-spiritual moment, but rather a mental act or state of mind of a simpler nature: readiness to perform an act of worship and a focused attention in its performance. It is one of the “technical” prerequisites (alongside movements and utterances) for the proper performance of a ritual act in the prescribed way. In Sufism and in alGhazali’s teachings, “intention” is indeed a “spiritual” matter, but it is questionable to what extent such views can be regarded as influential and subsequently representative in Islamic doctrine. In mainstream Muslim jurisprudence “intention” was “largely a formal, bodily, and mindful matter.”⁴⁹⁶ Baḥya was deeply influenced by Muslim mystical (and philosophical) sources and devoted the fifth chapter of his book to the duty of purifying intention in action.⁴⁹⁷ Among written sources, it was apparently this book (and this chapter in particular) that most instilled in Goldziher (from early childhood) a strong

 Ibid., 454. On the cited tradition see Goldziher, Muh. St. II, 179 – 180 (Muslim Studies II, 167– 168).  Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, esp. 18 – 20, 42, 44, 66, 116 – 121, 127– 133. Cf. also his “A buddhismus hatása az iszlámra,” 888.  Powers, Intent in Islamic Law, 65 – 67, 79 – 81. This was a widespread attitude among later European scholars of Islam too: ibid., 63 – 72.  Ibid., 73 – 88, 203 – 204. The rest of the book traces the meaning of “intention” (niyya) in other major branches of law: contract law, personal status law, and penal law. In these areas too, “intention” plays a limited role, and naturally has a legal-psychological rather than “spiritual” meaning; see especially the summary in 204– 206. The development of the concept of “intention” in ancient and medieval Jewish law and thought offers numerous useful parallels.  Lobel, A Sufi-Jewish Dialogue, 146 – 176.

Mysticism as a Remedy for Legalism

137

sense for the purity of heart and intention—an idea echoed and much accentuated in his sketch of Quranic piety and Sufism.⁴⁹⁸ In the struggle between “orthodox” legalism and mysticism (Sufism), Goldziher gave his vote to the latter, which brought “spiritual liberation […] over against the legal and doctrinal system of official Islam as developed by the jurists and mutakallimūn,”⁴⁹⁹ and which was the only stream that “harboured a tolerant spirit.”⁵⁰⁰ It was Sufism that inspired al-Ghazali to strive to turn the souls of his fellow Muslims “[f]rom the divisive squabbles of theologians […] to the inwardness of faith that brings people together, to the worship whose sanctuary is in the heart.”⁵⁰¹

 Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 18, 147, 150, 153, 160 – 161. Goldziher refers to a parallel expression with heart in the Hebrew Bible (lev shalem; particularly frequent in Kings and Chronicles), and to “purity/purification” (of heart/intention) (ikhlāṣ); the latter concept, the phrase lev shalem and the heart-metaphor and symbolism (e. g., “wholehearted devotion”; cf. Ps. 86:11) were central in Baḥya ibn Paquda’s Duties of the Heart (see, for example, Bahya, Duties of the Heart, II, 380 – 383); cf. Lobel, A Sufi-Jewish Dialogue, 146 – 176. For the heart-metaphor and the meaning of heart in Jewish and Islamic anthropology, see Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 147, 150 (Sufi usage); Powers, Intent in Islamic Law, 74– 75; for ikhlāṣ in Baḥya’s work, see Lobel, ibid., 14– 15, 147– 148, 152– 159, 161– 163; see 160 – 174 on deficiencies of ikhlāṣ. On the interesting old debate between Hermann Cohen and Wilhelm Bacher on the meaning of ikhlāṣ in Baḥya’s work, see ibid., 148 – 151, 174– 176.  Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 150. The term mutakallimūn denotes the speculative theologians of Islam.  Ibid., 165.  Ibid., 166.

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography In the previous chapter it was surveyed how Goldziher demonstrated the potential of Islamic—and partly Jewish—law for development, due to their systemic characteristics and principles. Exploring and demonstrating this potential was crucial for Goldziher, an advocate of organic “reform” coming from within. This chapter discusses Goldziher’s main insights into the dynamics of religious change and development as responses to historical and cultural challenges. It will be shown that Goldziher, in pursuing his anti-dogmatic and anti-voluntarist ideals of religious renewal, applied different blends of diachronic and synchronic methods in his study of Islam and Judaism—corresponding to his different “reform” perspectives on these two religious cultures. The “science of religion” for Goldziher is an essentially historical discipline that seeks to establish general laws in the development of religions.⁵⁰² “Ethnography” contributes to this science by exploring and characterizing the religious ideas and practices of individual peoples. Although the “science of religion” certainly has strong phenomenological and comparative aspects, and ethnography also has a historical dimension—and this is how Goldziher himself often used the term—here I wish to highlight the universal and historical elements in the science of religion, and the particularistic and empirical elements in ethnography. Goldziher scrutinized contemporary Islam and Judaism and their social environments through two lenses: a diachronic, evolutionist historical lens and a synchronic, empirical, ethnographic one. For the former, “laws” of religious development as he understood them and historical “timeliness” (“Zeitgeist,” in a philosophical sense of the word) were his compass, and for the latter, “Volksgeist” and authenticity guided him. This chapter’s purpose is to show Goldziher’s general consistency in applying, with different emphases, both standards. It is argued that his concurrent vantage points towards Islam and Judaism were not entirely identical and changed over time. His historical and empirical judgements were also at odds with each other in viewing some phenomena within Islam and Judaism.

 In some of his articles Goldziher uses the term “science of religions” in the plural, adopting contemporary English and French terminology, e. g. in his “Az összehasonlító vallástudomány etnográfiai kapcsolatai,” 167. Elsewhere he uses the English term in the singular: “Az összehasonlító vallástudomány módszeréről,” 172, 174. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285-008

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography

139

Goldziher was among the first to deploy ethnographic and folkloristic methods in the academic study of religion, and of Judaism⁵⁰³ and Islam in particular.⁵⁰⁴ In 1892 he played a key role in the reform of the Hungarian Ethnographic Society.⁵⁰⁵ During his student year in Berlin (1868 – 1869), his interest in ethnography was inspired by Heymann Steinthal and Johann Gottfried Wetzstein.⁵⁰⁶ It seems that Goldziher was one of the first two Jewish scholars of stature in modern Jewish studies to complete an extended field trip or study tour in the Near East, visiting several countries. The other scholar was Jacob Obermeyer, whose critique of contemporary Judaism, similar to Goldziher’s in many respects, was deeply influenced by his journeys to the Orient (from 1868 onwards).⁵⁰⁷

 Cf. Goitein, “Goldziher,” 19.  Cf. ibid. On his strong interest in ethnography and folklore, see OrD, 126; T 92, 144. For his contributions, see Heller, “Goldziher Ignácz és a néprajz.” Goldziher was often consulted by researchers of folklore and he freely shared his knowledge and observations gathered during his oriental study tour. He gave his opinion sometimes unsolicited. The author of an article on the folklore of the nail began the “addenda and corrigenda” to his own paper by citing Goldziher’s critical remarks to his theory that the custom of looking at the fingernails at the Jewish havdalah-ceremony (that marks the end of Shabbat) is related to dactylomancy. Goldziher’s alternative explanation was based on his experiences in Damascus: numerous people asked for his glasses to try it, and after putting them on, looking at their fingernails was their trial in most cases. Hermann, “Pótló adatok a körömről való néphithez,” 248.  For more on his involvement in the Hungarian Ethnographic Society, see T 134– 135 (March 5, 1892). He wrote the new program for the journal of the society (practically, of the society itself): Goldziher, “A Magyar Néprajzi Társaság ‚Ethnographia’ cz. közlönyének programmjáról” (this item is unmentioned in Goldziher-bibliographies) and agreed (under friendly pressure by Ottó Herman) to serve as one of the three vice presidents of the Society from May to October 1892. On T 134 this article is meant by Goldziher, and Scheiber’s footnote (T 319, n. 180) should be corrected accordingly. The article referenced by Scheiber there (“Az összehasonlító vallástudomány módszeréről), also a programmatic article of sorts but on a much wider scale, was written later, and originally delivered on November 5, 1892 (T 154, there November 6, apparently erroneously). From Herman’s letter (March 22, 1892; GIL/16/27/06) we learn that “numerous very serious people” wanted Goldziher to assume the role of presidency of the society.  T 39 (in the autograph: p. 55) erroneously gives August 1868 as the date of his departure from Berlin, instead of August 1869 as also noted by Preissler, “Ignaz Goldziher in Leipzig,” 293, n. 1. From October 1868 Goldziher studied in Berlin; in August 1869 he returned to Hungary for vacation, and in October he went to study in Leipzig.  Obermeyer, Modernes Judentum im Morgen- und Abendland. The travels of Salomon Munk and Adolf Neubauer in the Near East were more limited in terms of geographical scope; Gustav Weil, Jules Oppert, and Joseph Halévy’s contributions to Jewish scholarship (in the narrow sense of the term) were rather limited. Ernest Renan, the great non-Jew scholar, also of Judaic studies, made field trips in the Near East (Syria, Lebanon, Palestine, Egypt, and Turkey) in 1860 – 1861, and in 1864– 1865. There were few German orientalists who made field trips to the Near East before Goldziher: Wokoeck, German Orientalism, 307, notes 16 – 17.

140

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography

Genealogy (one of the most prominent “sciences,” or preoccupations, among Arabs already in the pre-Islamic age⁵⁰⁸) is paradigmatic for both identity politics and historical sciences: it seeks to define who you are (in the singular and plural sense) and who they are.⁵⁰⁹ Knowledge is power, and it is important to see how Goldziher, an influential historian of Semitic cultures, approaches and defines the subjects and objects of his research and thought (which for him was Islam, Judaism and their adherents) in the politicized matrix of religion, ethnicity, historical progress, “Westernization,” and colonialism. Below, first we will survey his developmental view on religion in general and his adherence to and personal stakes in this approach; the survey will be followed by two examples. Then, his fluctuations and ambiguities in applying his historical-evolutionist and ethnographic viewpoints on contemporary Islamic and Jewish societies will be addressed (1) in the context of Western influences in the Orient and his positioning himself in the politicized Orientalist space, and (2) in viewing contemporary Judaism and Islam in general.

Science of Religion—and Commitment to Religious Progress Goldziher’s enthusiasm for a “science of religion” as an academic discipline was part of a trend, particularly strong in liberal Protestant circles, that strove for the separation and liberation of this emerging discipline from “theology.” Contemporary Protestant theologians such as Ödön Kovács (1844 – 1895), a Calvinist pioneer of this approach in Hungary, took much of their inspiration, similar to Goldziher, from Dutch scholars, among them Cornelis Petrus Tiele (1830 – 1902) and Abraham Kuenen (1828 – 1891).⁵¹⁰ It is a notable fact that in 1872 Goldziher not only taught Hebrew at the Calvinist Theological Seminary in Pest, but also lectured “on his own will and free of charge on the history and development of religions.”⁵¹¹  Goldziher, “A nemzetiségi kérdés az araboknál,” 5, 11, 13; “The Spanish Arabs and Islam,” The Muslim World 54 (1964), 34; Muh. St. I, 177– 207.  See e. g. Goldziher, Muh. St. I, 203 – 206, where some examples are cited where Muslim genealogists “demonstrate” the Jewish descent of someone who they dislike.  Kovács, “The Rise of the Science of Religion,” 235 – 249. In 1878 Goldziher published an appreciative review of Ödön Kovács’s A Handbook of the Philosophy of Religion (published two years before—“Az összehasonlító vallástudomány módszeréről”). The same author promoted the “science of religion” in Hungary already in a series of articles (in a Protestant scholarly journal) published in 1869.  Benke, “Egy pár szó a pesti ref. theologia beléletére vonatkozólag,” 1517. Goldziher’s lectures were attended by ca. 15 students, according to the report.

Science of Religion—and Commitment to Religious Progress

141

As a scholar Goldziher was first interested in the earliest phases of Hebrew and comparative mythology. Abandoning this field in the early 1880s, his research shifted to religious dynamics of Islam and Judaism in historical times— apparently upon realizing that the latter realm, which involves numerous types of source materials, stands methodologically on firmer ground than research in largely “prehistoric” mythologies. Both directions are pursued in his early (and only) book on the history of ancient Israelite religion, Der Mythos bei den Hebräern und seine geschichtliche Entwickelung (1876), which also delineates the prophets’ struggle against mythology. Goldziher’s basic principles for the study of the history of religions were as follows. The formation of peoples is related to the development of their language, mythology, and religion.⁵¹² Theological and political notions on power and rule are interrelated in a given culture.⁵¹³ Religion is a universal experience (in fact, the only truly universal experience); it has psychological foundations⁵¹⁴; and it serves as the measure of historical progress. Mythologies and religions have their own course of development, which are subject to certain general laws. “It is the purpose of the science of religion to explore the stages of religious development and to demonstrate the historical and psychological laws that are manifest in the development,” and the resulting universal developmental scheme is the only appropriate framework for the classification of religions— more precisely, of their various developmental stages.⁵¹⁵ “At a certain stage of history, universalist religion takes the place of national religions; the latter represent a sort of lower stratification, on which the universalist religion lies as a covering layer.”⁵¹⁶ In the same semipopular article, Goldziher lists five major types of reactions of old national religion elements when covered by a new universal religion: (1) the absorption of residual aspects from the old religion (with reinterpretation) into the new; (2) the rejection of rudiments of the old religion as “superstitions” by the new; (3) differentiation (the formation of new platforms or sects) within the new universalist religion; (4) syncretism; (5) a cult of saints. The clash of schools or streams within the same religion produces similar syntheses. In his view, investigating these phenomena is one of the major tasks of the “sci-

 On this point Goldziher followed Schelling; Goldziher, Mythology among the Hebrews, xxii; idem, “Az összehasonlító vallástudomány jelen állásáról,” 130.  This insight, cited and applied several times by Goldziher, is adopted from Aristotle and Schelling; Goldziher, “A vallásos eszme fejlődése,” 355; idem, Mythology among the Hebrews, 264– 270; idem, “Az összehasonlító vallástudomány módszeréről,” 173.  Mythology among the Hebrews, xvi, xxi, 1– 2, 7– 10, etc.  Goldziher, “Az összehasonlító vallástudomány módszeréről,” 182– 184.  Goldziher, “Az összehasonlító vallástudomány etnográfiai kapcsolatai,” 169.

142

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography

ence of religions.”⁵¹⁷ “National” (i. e., particularistic) religions or cults interact with universal religions that overlay them and continue to have an impact on them. Goldziher found the notion of apperception useful in his works on mythology. According to this concept of cognitive psychology and cultural anthropology, individuals and groups conceive and understand new “data” and perceptions by processing and filtering these data, and assimilating them into pre-existing individual and collective systems of “representations.” This assimilation works in the opposite direction too: pre-existing notions and representations themselves are affected and modified by the novel “data” and perceptions.⁵¹⁸ Language is probably the most fundamental of these systems, but mythology and religion (and even science with its “paradigms”) are also—intertwined and overlapping—systems of this sort. Goldziher seldom used the term apperception in his later works, but the principal insight behind this notion is a cornerstone of his approach to dynamic encounters between religions.⁵¹⁹ Another approach used by Goldziher for understanding religions and observing the interactions between them was the dialectical, Hegelian type of scheme: two “religions” (or “cultures,” or systems of ideas) collide and interact, peacefully or not (“thesis”—“antithesis”); what their collision produces (“synthesis”) is often a sort of compromise or “mediation,” by way of reinterpretation.⁵²⁰

 Ibid., 171– 180.  Thus, on nomadic tribes in Arabia, which conceive God more or less as a nomad sheikh, and Mormons for whom God is like a president of immortal beings, he comments: “[these phenomena] must rather be referred to as apperception than symbolism”—Mythology among the Hebrews, 266; see also ibid., xv–xvi, 225. This remark is part of his discussion on the connection between theological notions and political notions, mentioned above—one narrow field of application of the concept. See also his “A mythologia tanításáról,” 454.  Goldziher refers to apperception, e. g., in his “A népetimológiáról a keleti nyelvekben,” 342, 347; “A pogány arabok költészetének hagyománya,” 575. For a use of the term in a modern context, meaning “prejudice,” see idem, A spanyolországi arabok helye az iszlám fejlődése történetében, 154; in the English translation (“The Spanish Arabs and Islam,” 15) this nuance of the terminology is lost. Goldziher adopted this notion (probably with the mediation of Mór Kármán, see Ch. VIII) from Heymann Steinthal (see the latter’s exposition of the concept in an Appendix in Goldziher, Mythology among the Hebrews, 376 – 390), who developed Wilhelm von Humboldts’s and Johann Friedrich Herbart’s ideas. See also the remarks of Trautmann-Waller, “Histoire culturelle, religions et modernité,” 131– 133.  Goldziher, A spanyolországi arabok helye az iszlám fejlődése történetében, 154, 187– 188, 195 (“The Spanish Arabs and Islam,” 16, 284– 285, 31); Az iszlám, 260 – 263 (without Hegelian terminology). The classic examples are Goldziher’s treatments of philosophy versus traditional theology, and asceticism and mysticism versus legalistic “formalism,” in chapters III and IV of his Vorlesungen.

Science of Religion—and Commitment to Religious Progress

143

Besides contemporary scholarship on religion, his early research was also inspired by Maimonides, al-Ghazali, and Ibn Khaldun, all great medieval authors who combined religious leadership roles with a keen historical-critical sense in areas of religion and culture.⁵²¹ How did Goldziher himself relate to the two main religious cultures that he studied: Islam and Judaism? He regarded them as pathways to monotheistic renewal, and (in the spirit of the Enlightenment) he saw in scholarship a critical (in both meanings of the word) tool in facilitating their revitalization.⁵²² Goldziher’s activist-“reformist” religious zeal abated as time passed; this was part of his professionalization. On his visit to Al-Azhar in 1896 he comments: “Only now it became clear how all of these studies shifted for me toward the objective sphere in the past 23 years. As a younger fellow I took part subjectively in all scholarly activities that took place in Azhar” (T 198). Yet this was not a radical transformation, it seems. In the next year, still with no ordinary professorship, in a “serfdom” as a Jewish community official that he thought may never end, he found satisfaction in privately teaching two students (an American and a Russian) who came to Budapest to study under him. They studied classical Muslim authors three times a week. Just now I realize that after a decade of Jahiliyya⁵²³ I am estranged a bit from Muhammadan lore. Pagan valiants replaced casuists, Beduin heroes supplanted clerics. It’s really good for me to have a chance to let the latter nestle in my mind, for I stand before them with a more mature preoccupation than in the Azhar year when I was more of a Muhammadan casuist than a Western pupil of scholarship.” (T 210; Febr. 5, 1897)

This entry tells us how pleased Goldziher was to have a chance to return to the classical Muslim sources, study with his foreign students, after an extended period of dealing much with pre-Islamic subjects (such as “pagan” Arabic poetry) in his research. He also records with satisfaction his maturation as a scholar— without, however, disavowing his attitude at the time when he studied at the  For Maimonides, see Goldziher, A zsidóság lényege, 100 – 104; Fraisse, Ignác Goldzihers monotheistische Wissenschaft, 102– 134. Al-Ghazali’s impact on Goldziher is mentioned in Chapters V and VII in the present book. On Ibn Khaldun, whom Goldziher often refers to in his works, see his “Jelentés a M. T. Akadémia könyvtára számára keletről hozott könyvekről,” 99 – 102 (Mestyan, “Ignác Goldziher’s Report on the Books,” 475 – 477); and idem, “A történetírás az arab irodalomban,” 646 – 647.  Characterizing Goldziher’s conviction as “old messianism replaced by a new universal faith based on science” (Olender, The Languages of Paradise, 134) goes too far in my view. Cf. Goldziher’s “slip” and its correction mentioned at the beginning of Ch. IV.  This Arabic term means “ignorance,” and denotes the pre-Islamic period, i. e. the period preceding the revelation of the Quran to the Prophet Muhammad.

144

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography

Al-Azhar academy. In 1897 he regarded himself more of “a Western pupil of scholarship,” without entirely abandoning the “Muhammadan casuist” in him. These two perspectives or postures were part of him, in his Al-Azhar period as much as at the time of writing the entry, it seems—just their balance was different. Goldziher was never to relinquish his permanent residency in the Muslim scholars’ republic. His double, etic-emic, outsider-insider perspective essentially did not change, either on Islam or in Judaism. In his introduction to a popular lecture in Vienna in 1916 on current modernizing trends in Islamic law, he said: “When, upon the honorable invitation of this adult education center, I find it appropriate to answer that question, may I begin by saying that I bend myself to this task not from the perspective of a friend of culture indifferent to sentiments of a Muslim believer, but rather I take the standpoint of vernacular Islamic scholarship.”⁵²⁴ Moreover, while he identified closely, in his own ways, with both Judaism and Islam, products of long historical-organic development as he understood them, he never reneged on his critical judgments on their historical derailments, past and present. Similarly, even after he turned from a pupil into a highly respected master of Western scholarship which he identified with, he did not give up his critical perspective on Western influences (whether aggressive colonization or peaceful cultural penetration and assimilation) on Judaism and Islam. “The investigation of Hebrew myths stimulates religious thought to advance in the direction of a Monotheism purified from all dross.”⁵²⁵ This was his motto in his work on mythology—and (mutatis mutandis) in all his researches on Islam and Judaism. In the same introduction, he offers a more extended credo on his “demythologization” project: It is my earnest conviction that not only the interests of learning, but also preeminently the religious life of the present age make it important to gain for this subject an acknowledged position in learned literature. For he who feels the true meaning of religion must welcome these studies as a step towards the highest ideal of religion, towards Monotheism pure and unsullied by anything coarse or pagan, which is independent of legends and traditions of race, and has its center, its exclusive element of life, and its impulse towards never-resting enquiry and self-perfection, in aspiration after the single-living Source of all truth and morality. I am convinced that every step that we take towards a correct appreciation of the Mythical brings us nearer to that center. The confusion of the Mythical with the Religious makes religious life centrifugal; it is the duty of the progressive tendency of this domain to confirm a centripetal tendency. The recognition of this relation between pure Monotheism

 Goldziher, “Das muslimische Recht und seine Stellung in der Gegenwart,” 5.  Goldziher, Mythology among the Hebrews, xxvii.

Science of Religion—and Commitment to Religious Progress

145

and the oldest historical portion of the Biblical literature does not date from yesterday or today; the most ideal representative of Hebrew Monotheism, in which Jahveism as an harmonious conception of the universe attained its climax, the Prophet of the Captivity himself, described this relation in clear terms (Is. LXIII. 17; see infra, p. 229).⁵²⁶

Goldziher’s identification of the “Mythical” in the Bible was controversial, as we know; but the reader was given here a straightforward statement on the broader motivation of the author’s research into religion: his progressive commitment, prophetic earnestness, and purificatory zeal. We would look for such self-revelations in his later works in vain; his diaries remained the loci of such reflections. It is worth taking a look at Goldziher’s oft-cited retrospective confessions of the impact that Islam had on him during his oriental tour: I, in fact, ensconced myself so deeply within the Muhammadan spirit during these weeks that I became ultimately internally convinced of being myself a Muhammadan and discerningly discovered this to be perhaps the one and only religion capable, even in its doctrinalofficial formation and formulation, of satisfying philosophical minds. My ideal was thus to raise Judaism to a comparable rational level. Islam, my experience taught me, may be the one and only religion in which superstition and pagan rudiments are scorned not through rationalism, but by orthodox teaching. (T 59) My way of thinking had come through and through to focus on Islam. My sympathies also pulled me subjectively in that direction. My monotheism I called Islam, and I did not lie when I said I believe in Muhammad’s prophethood. My copy of the Qur’an can bear witness to how inwardly I came to devote myself to Islam. My teachers seriously awaited the moment of my open declaration. (T 71)⁵²⁷

As far as we know, an “open declaration” never occurred, but Goldziher nonetheless remained a committed observer of Islam and a “rational” devotee of monotheism as he conceived it, whether Islamic or Jewish. In writing about religious phenomena, a “purified” concept of monotheism was his compass and liberalism his standard. In conclusion of his comparative, historical-phenomenological analysis of “Eastern” and “Western” Islam, he says candidly: “We have presented for contrast the two geographical branches of Islam, the Eastern and the Western. Having mutually compared the place of both branches in the history of religious thinking and intellectual life, as well as in the progress of Muslim worldview [világnézet], the victor’s laurels may be awarded to the Eastern branch of

 Ibid., xxx. The correct Biblical reference is Is. LXIII. 16. The author’s interpretation of the verse is highly problematic.  Translations follow Moshfegh’s: Ignaz Goldziher and the Rise of Islamwissenschaft, 211– 212.

146

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography

Islam.”⁵²⁸ Why? Because in Goldziher’s analysis the liberal, anti-dogmatic, progressive, and tolerant Ḥanafite school prevailed in the latter, while in Western Islam the relatively conservative, formalistic, dogmatic and intolerant Malikite legal school triumphed. Furthermore, while philosophy was an organic part of “sciences,” and liberal versions of Sufi mysticism constituted an authentic antipode of Muslim orthodoxy in Eastern Islam, in Western Islam philosophy was not an organic part of “sciences,” and Sufi mysticism took a politicized and superstitious form.

Semitism Psychological notions played an important role in the science of religion during Goldziher’s times, and this science necessarily relied on speculative elements in its quest for universal laws of religious development. Ethnography, as its auxiliary science, was more empirical, but it was limited in establishing the scope and prevalence of concrete religious phenomena, or confirming their supposed “universality.” Comparative ethnography, or “as they prefer to call it recently: ethno-psychology (Völkerpsychologie),”⁵²⁹ born partly out of this tension, was unable to offer a viable solution to these built-in methodological problems. Goldziher was favorable and sympathetic towards ethnopsychology, at least until the early 1880s.⁵³⁰ Addressing Judaism, Christianity, and particularly Islam, he related to the “spirit,” or “common spirit,” or “worldview” of these religions⁵³¹; while discussing Arabs or Egyptians in pre-Islamic, ethnological contexts, he wrote about their inner “character,” “mentality” (lelkület), or “disposition” (kedély).⁵³² His attitude toward broader categorizations, such as cultural and racial generalizations and stereotypes about alleged “Semitic” qualities and characteristics, was not unequivocal. In numerous works he polemicized against “Semitisms”

 Goldziher, A spanyolországi arabok helye az iszlám fejlődése történetében, 204 (“The Spanish Arabs and Islam,” 38). I have modified de Somogyi’s translation from “ideology” to “worldview.”  Goldziher, “Muhammedán utazókról,” 107.  Der Mythos bei den Hebräern, 4, 6, 46 (Mythology among the Hebrews, 4– 5, 35 – 36); Az iszlám, 284, 351. Cf. Trautmann-Waller, “Histoire culturelle, religions et modernité,” 125.  Az iszlám, 358, 419, 422– 423.  Ibid., 58, 331– 332, 351– 356.

Semitism

147

(particularly against Renan’s characterizations),⁵³³ but the fact is that—like Heymann Steinthal, one of the founders of Völkerpsychologie—he himself made concessions in that direction, at least in his more popular and earlier works.⁵³⁴ A remarkable example is his Hungarian review article on the cuneiform studies of George Smith. Published in 1877 (a year after the publication of Goldziher’s book on the Mythology among the Hebrews), the article opens with the following: In the last decades we heard manifold general – ambitious, grandiose and partly contradictory – characterizations of the Semitic race. How the writer of these lines feels about such general characterizations, usually refuted by particulars, has been expressed in public several times. And yet when I prepare readers of this periodical for an appreciation of the discoveries […] of George Smith, I myself make the mistake that I disapprove of and start my paper by offering a general characterization of the peoples that belong to the Semitic race. I think, though, that details do not give a lie to this general thesis. […] Semitic peoples have never been men of intellectual initiative [szellemi kezdeményezés]. All the more impressive in the history of culture is their receptive talent. We can safely say that one can find no other group of people [népkör] in the history of ancient and medieval mankind other than the Semitic race that gave fewer original ideas to our species, but showed greater talent of accommodation, individual elaboration, practical adaptation and – primarily – dissemination of external intellectual influences.⁵³⁵

Beyond “Hebrews,” he mentions Arabs and Assyro-Babylonians as examples of peoples characterized by receptiveness, and specified religions that emerged among Semites (e. g., Christianity) as unparalleled in the history of religions with respect to “flexibility” in accommodating foreign elements.⁵³⁶ While mythology as such, rooted in human language ability, was a universal cognitive trait of mankind for him, he apparently saw “receptivity” as a different (psychic) quality and a variable of the development of races and their history.

 On the shift of “Semitism” from a linguistic to racial and religious taxonomy, and Renan’s and Goldziher’s role in it, see Olender, The Languages of Paradise, 51– 63, 119 – 121; TrautmannWaller, “Semites and Semitism,” 348 – 352; Stroumsa, The Idea of Semitic Monotheism, 72– 76, 111– 130. From the earlier literature (beyond Goldziher’s Renan as Orientalist) on the critical reception of Renan’s views on the alleged monotheistic “instinct” of the Semites and his related ideas, see Schreiner, Die jüngsten Urteile über das Judentum, 7– 10, 14; König, Geschichte der Alttestamentlichen Religion, 110 – 114.  E. g., see some general characterizations of Goldziher on the—unspecified—“oriental man”: Az iszlám, 351– 354. On Goldziher’s notion of “Semitism,” see Trautmann-Waller, “Semites and Semitism,” 347, 353 – 354. On the “Semitisms” of Steinthal, see Kalmar, “Steinthal, the Jewish Orientalist,” 135 – 136, 139 – 149.  Goldziher, “George Smith,” 22– 23; see also 110, 164. 167. Italics are in the original.  Ibid., 24, 166 – 167.

148

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography

Such seemingly innocent generalizations may easily turn into hateful prejudices (Semitism into anti-Semitism⁵³⁷)—and Goldziher did not need to look further than Renan’s works to find such historical and intellectual types of anti-Jewish statements and sentiments. Looking at them through the prism of his contemporary environment, Goldziher was inclined to share some of these sentiments. While working on his address for Renan’s memorial, Goldziher wrote in his diary: “The man has the soundest views on contemporary Israel. He is the most dangerous antisemite, because he is right. The only dangerous one is the one who is right. One cannot match (beikommen) him” (T 159, May 16, 1893).⁵³⁸ Goldziher’s Semitic “receptiveness” idea became a relatively early episode in the formation of the Jewish femininity-receptivity (as opposed to masculinityoriginality) trope, used positively or pejoratively by Jews and non-Jews.⁵³⁹ Goldziher endorsed some of Renan’s racist anti-Semitic/antisemitic views, albeit only confidentially in his diary,⁵⁴⁰ and publicized his Semitic receptiveness theory only in one Hungarian article. In his foreign-language publications he spoke only about the receptiveness of the Israelites⁵⁴¹ and the Arabs.⁵⁴² Renan’s ideas were utilized and exploited by racist and antisemitic discourse as well as by Jewish polemic and apologetic discourse, in Hungary⁵⁴³ and elsewhere.⁵⁴⁴ The  For the distinction between the notions of anti-Semitism and antisemitism, see Ch. II, “Goldziher’s afterlife…”  For a fuller citation and interpretation of this passage, see Conrad, “Ignaz Goldziher on Ernest Renan,” 155 – 157.  See Olender, The Languages of Paradise, 106 – 114, esp. 110, on the Lutheran theologian Rudolf Friedrich Grau (1835 – 1893), who used this trope concerning Semites in his book published in 1864. Five years later Adolf Jellinek in Vienna elaborated on the Jewish virtuosity in adopting foreign cultures and assimilating to them (Der jüdische Stamm, 64– 65). The mentioned trope is also implied in Jellinek’s comparison between Jewishness and femininity (Der jüdische Stamm, 89 – 97) where he remarks that women until now have not excelled with ingenious, creative accomplishments in sciences, but they have had great talents for imitation (94– 95); see also idem, Die Psyche des Weibes, 12 (“A woman, as a receptive being [rezeptives Wesen] lacks ingenuity, originality and creativity for peaks of human activity: art, religion, philosophy, politics and literature”); and idem, Der jüdische Stamm in nichtjüdischen Sprichwörtern, 35 – 38, esp. 37. Jellinek (also a former student of H. L. Fleischer in Leipzig) had close familial and professional relations with Hungarian Jewry and had a strong impact on Hungarian Neolog circles. It is reasonable to assume that Goldziher, who was also in personal contact with him (see T 160, and a few letters of Jellinek in the Goldziher-Nachlass), read the cited books of Jellinek.  See also above, Ch. III, “Sense of superiority.”  Mythology among the Hebrews, 250, 317– 318; “Abulvalid,” 276.  Goldziher, “A muhammedán jogtudomány eredetéről,” 387; idem, “A buddhismus hatása az iszlámra,” 894; Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 4– 5.  In 1883, for example, in the Budapesti Szemle (a high quality Hungarian cultural journal in which Goldziher frequently published, especially until the late 1890s) two articles surveyed Re-

Prophetism—and Nationalism Versus Cosmopolitanism

149

negative, racist impact and potential of Renan’s ideas were only one possible reason for Goldziher’s cautiousness and eventual abandonment of racial notions.⁵⁴⁵

Prophetism—and Nationalism Versus Cosmopolitanism In judging prophecy and prophetic theologies in Islam and Judaism, Goldziher applied high standards. He viewed these religious phenomena and ideas (as well as others) from the plateau of his philosophically purified monotheism. If a historian today were to explicitly use such benchmarks to characterize Muhammad, Moses or other Israelite prophets and their “theologies,” let alone compare them as Goldziher did, he would likely face ostracism from his guild or maybe even a more severe punishment. However, Goldziher’s times were different, and the fact is that he did not refrain from using his standards in these religiously-politically sensitive matters and did not always mince his words.⁵⁴⁶ We will not follow him into his discussions of this sort, but it is worth observing two phenomena in his discussion of prophecy in its relation to the nationalism-universalism divide. The first is a shift in Goldziher’s views concerning Israelite prophecy. In his works in the 1870s, “Early” Prophets and “Later” (classical) Prophets (to use the divisions of the Hebrew Bible canon) feature primarily as restorers and guardians of the “national mind” or spirit. Prophetism emerged after “Canaanite religions gained ground again in major cities, and overcame the power and impact of the Elohim-idea on national life, because moral decline in nations begins, as world

nan’s views on Jews and Judaism—one highlighting his negative views, the other his positive views on the subject.  Priest, “Ernest Renan’s Race Problem.”  In the context of his ongoing polemics with Renan, and dialogue with ethnographic scholarship, Goldziher may have reconsidered his own taxonomies of mythology as a “psychological” phenomenon and a universal stage in human cultural development, receptivity as a particular trait of a group of peoples or cultures, and in general, his sharp distinction between “psychological” and “cultural-historical” factors in the emergence and development of mythology. He may also have withdrawn from racial characterizations due to their negative implications for the prospects of universal religious development toward monotheism.  On comparing Islamic and Israelite God concepts, see his “A vallásos eszme fejlődése,” 357; Mythology among the Hebrews, 291; on Muhammad, see also Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 5 – 6, 22– 24; “Die Religion des Islams,” 96. Goldziher’s—usually subtle—variations in tone on such theological matters according to time, genre, audience etc. would require a separate study.

150

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography

history shows, when they let a foreign, even if more refined, element influence them, instead of developing of their individual forces resting in their own spirit.”⁵⁴⁷ He uses the same reasoning to highlight this aspect of prophecy not only in his scholarly book,⁵⁴⁸ but also in a Hungarian Jewish annual.⁵⁴⁹ Nationalism was not secondary in this historical reconstruction; it was the zeitgeist and a central idea in his Jewish and non-Jewish milieu that nations are the main vehicles of historical progress. About a decade later, however, when Goldziher presented Israelite prophecy again, this time for a domestic Jewish audience (in The Essence and Evolution of Judaism), ethical-universalist elements in biblical prophecy came to dominate his discussion, at the expense of historical-nationalist elements.⁵⁵⁰ The other issue is the particular personal significance that prophecy as a historical and religious ideal carried for Goldziher. In order to understand the YHWH idea, one has to delve into prophetic teachings “with a sympathizing soul” (mit liebender Seele).⁵⁵¹ As we remarked earlier in the book, scholarship as such was for him an extension of the historical phenomenon of prophecy— a sort of bat kol, or “minor prophecy.”⁵⁵² In his lectures on The Essence and Evolution of Judaism, prophets are men whose calling is to spread “spirit” among the people.⁵⁵³ In the diary he motivates some of his actions with pious prophetic ide-

 Mythology among the Hebrews, 296 – 297. The universalist—or “cosmopolitan,” as Goldziher prefers to call it in his early writings—message of the Prophets was also not neglected (ibid., 302– 303)—as a brief polemic detour against biased views.  In Mythology among the Hebrews (269 – 270) Goldziher positions himself in contemporary scholarly discourse and refers to Eduard von Hartmann, who acknowledged the positive significance of Israelite nationalism in the development of monotheism.  “A vallásos eszme fejlődése,” 359 – 360. This article is a Hungarian version (probably close to the original Hungarian version) of Chapters VI–IX of the Mythos book, with the addition of an introduction and an afterword.  A zsidóság lényege, 42– 73, esp. 43, 50 – 56, 65, 67, 70 – 72.  “A vallásos eszme fejlődése,” 358; Der Mythos bei den Hebräern, 349; Mythology among the Hebrews, 291.  Cf. also the long passage from the Introduction of the Mythos book above in the section on “Science of religion …” The usage of the term “minor prophecy” here should be distinguished from its Talmudic usage denoting a peculiar kind of bibliomancy: “R. Johanan said: If one rises early and a Scriptural verse comes to his mouth [e. g., he spontaneously utters it, or he hears a child repeating it] this is a kind of minor prophecy (‫( ”)נבואה קטנה‬Berakhot 55b; Soncino transl.). It should be noted, however, that Goldziher records such a bibliomantic experience or practice of his own at one place in the diary (T 164– 165; August 24, 1893).  A zsidóság lényege, 58.

Prophetism—and Nationalism Versus Cosmopolitanism

151

als.⁵⁵⁴ In his later works, however, we do not find such subjective statements on prophecy. Do these variations signify substantial changes in Goldziher’s views on prophecy or in his overall attitudes towards Islam and Judaism? The answer is no; the variations seem to be limited shifts that can be explained by a number of factors. The disappearance of personal pronouncements on prophecy in his later works can be understood against the background of Goldziher’s academic professionalization, which is inseparable from his gradual disengagement from Judaism as a scholarly field and as a field of public activity.⁵⁵⁵ In explaining the other phenomenon (the shift from historical-nationalist to ethical-universalist rhetorics concerning biblical prophecy), academic differences of opinion and changes in the political environment are the key. Biblical Israelite nationalism ceased to be a common positive historical reference for progressive Jews and Hungarian liberal nationalists (an important “model” as it was for decades and centuries, especially in the local Calvinist tradition),⁵⁵⁶ and lost much of its relative attractiveness in the rising antisemitism of the 1880s in Hungary. On the academic front, the universalist discourse on prophecy in Goldziher’s The Essence and Evolution of Judaism should also be read as a polemic against the thesis of Israelite particularism. This polemic received a boost from an authoritative voice much respected by Goldziher: Abraham Kuenen’s 1882 book.⁵⁵⁷ The universalism of Muhammad’s “prophetic” leadership was also a controversial issue in contemporary Islamic scholarship, and Goldziher’s pronouncements also show subtle changes in this theme. In his study on the nationalityproblem in Islam (1873, in Hungarian), Goldziher unequivocally regards Muhammad’s teaching as universalistic,⁵⁵⁸ but while he views this universalism (“cosmopolitanism”) as an important religious development, he also sympathizes with the particularistic, ethnic consciousness and pride of Muslim believers.⁵⁵⁹ In his later surveys on Islam (in German), he is somewhat more circumspect in the questions of whether or not Muhammad had a universalist calling, and

 After the death of his brother-in-law, he took it upon himself to take care of the widow (who was the second wife of the brother-in-law) and the orphans, “as required by my prophets” (T 103).  See the quotation in Ch. III from T 231 (May 16, 1902), and other references there.  In the mid-1870s Goldziher was still a committed patriot and nationalist; see the citation in the beginning of the section “The powers that be” in Ch. III.  Kuenen, National Religions and Universal Religions; a German edition appeared the following year.  “A nemzetiségi kérdés az araboknál,” 3, 5 – 6, 8 – 9, 12.  See above, p. 76.

152

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography

if so when and what sort of calling he had.⁵⁶⁰ The latter surveys were objective treatments of the subject, within which Goldziher’s amplification and less definitive language were clearly a function of contemporary scholarly debates on this issue.⁵⁶¹ Goldziher’s interest in aspects of prophecy and the nationalism-cosmopolitanism complex (as his interest in Jewish and Islamic jurisprudence) was a barometer of his “reform” involvement. The mentioned relatively minor shifts in Goldziher’s pronouncements on prophecy themselves should be viewed as a consequence of his growing disinterest in local politics, changing views on religious reform, and anchoring himself to the academic, historico-philosophical viewpoint. In different rhythms and ways, both in the Islamic and the Jewish context, his insider position became more inconspicuous, his “reform” vision more indistinct and utopian.

Blessing and Curse Biblical scholarship started to use folkloristic methods at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries. Goldziher’s work on verbal (primarily oral) forms of religion such as magical formulas, prayer, oaths and vows, mocking and cursing, and his work on Hadith in particular, had an indirect yet profound impact on the study of orality in biblical and rabbinic literatures, which became prominent fields only in the middle third of the twentieth century. Once again, one notices the confluence of Goldziher’s character, personal convictions, and academic pursuits. Beneath Goldziher’s thick vocabulary of insults in his diary, a rich Near Eastern and biblical legacy of blessing and cursing pulsates.⁵⁶² The Prophet Amos [6:8] is right: “God swears: I loathe the Pride of Jacob, and I hate his palaces.” We want to become like God in this too, in loathing and hating this money flaunting and these inflated cash bags⁵⁶³ that are the shame of mankind. They are respected and honoured. Would it be so without their purses? They despise and oppress me. Would they do this if I would be, God forbid, like them too? And whoever respects and likes me, would they respect and like me more if I were rich? I do not think so. What I am absolutely sure about, however, is this. God swears: I loathe the Pride of Jacob,

 “Die Religion des Islams,” 93; Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 27– 28.  Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 27, n. 33; cf. Kuenen, National Religions and Universal Religions.  T 105, 137 (May 1, 1892); 161 (July 3, 1893). See also T 61, 91.  The lay leadership of the Pest Jewish Community is meant.

Blessing and Curse

153

and I hate his palaces. This is why I want to loathe the Pride of Jacob, and hate, fiercely hate, his palaces. In days like these, when I am again unable to devote myself to my work, this hate becomes the content of my soul; this energizes my soul. Through this I can work my way up to a purer life. Hatred is a filthy sentiment, but the way I nurture it is a lofty virtue. The pious Psalmist hates the haters of God [cf. Ps. 139:21– 22]. I too will not let this go ever as long as I live (T 152– 153; Oct. 16, 1892).

Goldziher tells us here explicitly that it is an imperative for him to hate God’s enemies, including his enemies—hypocrites and vicious, greedy people—and this imperative is derived from the command of imitatio Dei and from Psalms (which is full of invectives against the psalmist’s enemies). According to a Talmudic adage, “any scholar who does not avenge himself and retain anger like a serpent is no [real] scholar.”⁵⁶⁴ Goldziher was a real scholar who put this imperative into practice, at least on the pages of his diaries. A more direct and dramatic expression of Goldziher’s personal relationship to Psalms, including their “antagonistic” elements, was given at his funeral. In his will (see Appendix II), Goldziher specifies that Psalm 23 should be recited over his coffin, and that Verse 4 of that Psalm should be written on his tombstone. His will has been respected.⁵⁶⁵ The continuation of the Psalm (Verse 5) reads: “You spread a table for me against my enemies.” That “table” for Goldziher was his writing desk at home.⁵⁶⁶ Goldziher acted out part of the Near Eastern culture of inflammatory and “hate” speech in his diary. Another part became the subject of his major study on the nature and role of the pre-Islamic poet and the quasi-magical poetic genre (known as hiğā’) of mocking and cursing the enemy. He argues convincingly that Bileam’s role and utterances (commonly regarded as “prophecies”) in the fourth book of Moses serve as a good illustration of and a close parallel to these phenomena.⁵⁶⁷ This parallelism or analogy, which was the starting point for a series of articles on the topic—Goldziher published the first article in 1869 at the age of 19 on the true nature of Bileam’s “profession” and “prophecies”⁵⁶⁸—occurred

 bYoma 22b–23a (R. Yohanan in the name of Simeon b. Jehozadak). As expected, rabbinic literature provides different interpretations for this “difficult” saying. See Turan, ‫"כל מקום‬ "‫שנתנו חכמים עיניהם‬, 174– 186.  See Appendix II. Goldziher “prayed” with verses from this Psalm (T 138; May 7, 1892).  See the photograph of the giant writing desk in his study below, on p. 283.  Abhandlungen zur arabischen Philologie, I, 1– 121, here 42– 44.  “Mit nyertünk a beduin élet ismerete által az Ótestamentum megértésére nézve?,” esp. 244– 247. The article itself was written in October 1869, when Goldziher was already in Leipzig. Gold-

154

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography

to him while attending Wetzstein’s lectures in Berlin on the language and customs of Bedouins.⁵⁶⁹ The section of the Torah containing the Bileam narrative was the portion read aloud at his bar mitzvah ceremony, an event that carried enormous personal and religious significance for him (T 22– 23; 161, July 3, 1893).

Westernization in the Near East Contradicting and simplifying views have been advanced on Goldziher’s attitude towards colonialism in the Near East. Edward Said portrayed Goldziher as an accomplice to the colonialist plot of Western Orientalist scholarship. Others reprimanded Goldziher for the political implications of his trailblazing Hadith criticism, if not for deliberate collaboration with colonialism. His work allegedly was instrumental in undermining the entire edifice of the essentially legalistic Islamic tradition.⁵⁷⁰ On the other hand, the diaries (and especially the OrD) reveal his fascination with Islam (as he perceived it) and affection for Islamic peoples, as well as his anti-colonialist sentiments, views, and activities. Taking into account a few additional publications, there seems to be sufficient evidence for Goldziher’s anti-imperialist stance.⁵⁷¹ The first view is short of concrete documentation and operates with abstract generalizations; the second view relies almost exclusively on early ego-documents. In recent studies, David Moshfegh too takes for granted Goldziher’s “vehement anti-imperialism.”⁵⁷² While Moshfegh’s view on Goldziher’s pronouncements is also built on a narrow textual basis, his research (utilizing Susanne Marchand’s study) on early twentieth century imperialist ideologies of German and Dutch Islamologists (Snouck Hurgronje, Carl Heinrich Becker and Martin Hartmann) and the distinction between Kulturpolitik and Kolonialpolitik, may prove to be a useful framework to map Goldziher’s positions. Here I wish to present a number of statements by Goldziher in his Hungarian publications that help us form a more nuanced picture about his attitudes towards Western influences and imperialism beyond the case of Bosnia-Herzegovina occupied by the Austro-Hungarian Empire, as discussed in Chapter III. Part-

ziher’s article “A költő a régi arabok felfogásában” was only the second in this series of articles; cf. Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 105.  “Mit nyertünk a beduin élet ismerete által …?”, 244; T 37.  Recently, see Salaymeh, “Deutscher Orientalismus und Identitätspolitik,” 148 – 156.  Conrad, “The Dervish’s Disciple,” 241, who cites some important Hungarian publications of Goldziher; see also Dabashi, 69, 72.  Moshfegh, “Race, Religion and the Question of the Orient,” 120, cf. 98, 108, 121.

Westernization in the Near East

155

ly due to his precarious personal position as a scholar outside of the great imperialist powers, Goldziher was somewhat ambiguous concerning the Westernization of the East. Indeed, he had neither a consistent approach nor an overall judgment on this issue. Instead of an unequivocally positive “political” view, or a negative “moral” view, he had a differentiated view—or at least, he spoke in different voices. He was unequivocal, however, on two principal issues: insisting that modernization and “Westernization” must not undermine local national cultures and identities, and trying to disengage the interests of scholarship from politics and preferring the former over the latter. Goldziher was passionately interested in progressive Muslim views on Europe and attitudes to the “West,” and looked at them also through a local, Hungarian lens. In 1875 he characterized a “party” or “school” he calls “Old Turks” as one that strives for a “Turkish nation [törökség] participating in the cultural progress of the world, without losing its individual life and relinquishing its existence as a a nation”; and as someone “who wishes his own country and nation to make progress in the same direction,” he sympathizes with these general aims, despite the fact that the mentioned “party” or movement, lacking proper leadership and program, has a somewhat utopian character.⁵⁷³ It seems that Goldziher was quite comfortable with Austro-Hungarian foreign policy, identifying more or less with the cultural expansionism of AustriaHungary and Germany, and with the Central Powers in World War I. In 1875 he gave a concise view of European political and cultural influences on the Muslim East, the vehicles of which were British colonialism in India, Christian missionizing societies in Syria, the dynastic political orientation in Egypt, and the French presence in North Africa: English influence in India can only be considered a blessing, due to the tactfulness of the conquering people, and – what is most important – its historical sense. It created but did not destroy, developed without coercion and educated without destroying the self-respect of the natives. Syrian missionary societies, which could exert influence only on local Christian denominations until now, made a one-sided impact and did not significantly promote true culture [művelődés] insofar that they invested their time primarily in dogmatic hairsplitting and implementing institutions that do not fit the organism of Orientals. […] The culture of Egypt – if we may call this destruction “culture” – is so thoughtless and is so much intertwined with ambitions of certain money-seeking European fakes [szédelgők] that the history of modern Egypt, if it will be written frankly, will not enhance the prestige

 Goldziher, “Muhammedán utazókról,” 138. The cited remarks appear in the context of Goldziher’s survey of the views of Ahmad Faris al-Shidyak (1804?–1887), writer, translator, and journalist, about desirable ways of progress of the Arab nation, apropos the latter’s book on his experiences in Europe.

156

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography

of European influence in the Orient. French influence in North Africa has a rather military character and belongs to oriental cultural history only in a limited way.⁵⁷⁴

Goldziher’s scorn for French influence in Egypt (and North Africa) and for missionizing activities in Syria is well known and amply documented in the Diaries; what is new in this straightforward personal assessment is the praise for the British rule in India. Here, Goldziher gives a glimpse not only into his standards to discern bad colonial policies (and good policies by implication), but also gives his explicit criteria for beneficial colonial governance. In 1895 he again made neutral remarks on how German and French research on Arabic dialects is related to their political-colonial interests in Africa. From him, only the French received critical comments to the effect that their research in this field serves only their practical, “political interests or so-called cultural mission.”⁵⁷⁵ Conversely, he commended German research for its truly scientific standards, and in place of the ironic remark on the “cultural mission” that he directed to the French, we learn from him (without irony) that in German policies “practical interests are very skillfully combined with scientific benefits.”⁵⁷⁶ Conforming to his 1916 diary entry (cited in Chapter III) in which he sets Germany as an example by virtue of its support for oriental research without subordinating it to direct political interests, he says in his memorial address on Vámbéry in 1915: It is self-explanatory that the seriously scientific study competitive with Western scholarship (that is, not a dilettante and haphazard study focusing solely on practical skills) of oriental culture and the history and institutions of oriental peoples must not be the last among the cultural and scientific interests of our homeland. Our history, geographical position, political and economic interests demand this, beyond general scientific considerations. Germans correctly recognized long time ago that they cannot promote their political and economic interests more efficiently than by giving priority to scientific work over practical work, preparing with the former the success of the latter.⁵⁷⁷

He also praises the rich German institutional network devoted to the theoretical, practical, and popular study of oriental cultures, ancient to modern, and continues:

 Goldziher, “Muhammedán utazókról,” 121– 122.  Goldziher, “Az arab nyelvjárások legujabb irodalma,” AésI, 683 – 684; Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 27 (translation modified).  Goldziher, “Az arab nyelvjárások legujabb irodalma,” AésI, 687– 688; this sentence is omitted by Simon, ibid.  Goldziher, “Vámbéry Ármin tiszt. tag emlékezete,” 553.

Westernization in the Near East

157

This encompassing movement, with its essentially scientific achievements and facts, has been governed in the last decades by the consideration that – as was said elsewhere – “experience teaches that the consolidation of the influence of European nations in those remote regions is in direct proportion to the scientific research on them before and since [attaining] that influence. In fact the recognition gains ground more and more so that the study room has a decisive role in what is called with some euphemism ‘penetration pacifique’ [peaceful penetration], and that even economic interests cannot do without the work of philologists, historians and scholars of religion.”⁵⁷⁸

Could there be any better evidence to support Edward Said’s notions of Goldziher as a mainstream Western orientalist and of Western orientalism’s sophisticated transformation of orientalist learning into colonial power? Even in this Hungarian version, slightly softened compared to the original German of the citation within the citation,⁵⁷⁹ we see that Goldziher does not deny the legitimacy of political and economic interests served by state sponsored scholarship. And he is certainly not opposed to European colonialism as such. Defenders of Goldziher’s anti-colonialism of course also find evidence in his works to lean on. However, here we should not look for a true contradiction in need of a resolution. Most people say (and write) different, sometimes contradictory ideas on the same subject depending on the context, adversaries, audience, etc. Goldziher was no exception to the rule, especially concerning this relatively sensitive issue – and he even left for us a small clue in the above-cited Vámbéry lecture that can help us understand his considerations. The phrase “as was said elsewhere” in the cited passage directs us to what he himself wrote five years before in a review published in a German scholarly journal.⁵⁸⁰ The reference in the text as well as the attached footnote leaves unmentioned that he himself is the author of the citation (“experience teaches […]”). To be sure, this type of brevity (omitting the author’s name in referring to his own works or others) was quite standard in other publications of Goldziher too; but here he may have had an additional reason to skip his authorship. Hungary was perceived by many in his audience (of his memorial address) as more of a colonized than a colonizing power, so acknowledging his authorship would make his self-cited passage potentially disturbing or offensive to them. On the other hand, the passage, even citing it as if from another source, may have seemed to him highly relevant in the early World War I atmosphere in which many Hungarians had colonizing dreams and pretensions. The message he wanted to convey was essentially apolitical:  Ibid., 553 – 554.  “Influence” (befolyás) was “Herrschaft” (control, rule, dominion) in the earlier German version; see the reference in the next footnote.  Goldziher, [Review of:] Der Islam, 361– 362.

158

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography

Hungary, with or without colonies, can only benefit from orientalism, that is, investing in oriental studies. At the same time, with all the respect he paid to “pure” orientalist research, he also played on the harp of Hungarian colonizing (or quasi-colonizing) dreams. This is how he continues after the anonymized citation of himself: “In his times (1827) Rückert happened to say that in Central Europe Vienna should be regarded as the appropriate [hivatott] focus of oriental studies. We could say without bias that in due course we should naturally demand of ourselves the lion’s share of fulfilling this task [hivatás].”⁵⁸¹ In 1889 Goldziher published a review of the first volume of his friend Snouck Hurgronje’s book on Mecca. The review is introduced by a historical survey of European pilgrims to Mecca before Snouck, a Dutch colonial advisor between 1889 and 1906.⁵⁸² Goldziher praises his work, without a bad word on its colonial context. He in fact disparages none of the adventurers, diplomats, or scholars mentioned in Snouck’s book (such as for serving as colonial outposts spying on the Islamic heartland). Rather, he highlights that European science has benefited from the experiences and publications of those scholars.⁵⁸³ Moreover, the reader also finds a remarkable meditative detour on the yearning of Orientalists—a yearning “which constitute the animating poetry of these studies,” to see in situ the societies that they study historically. The development of world traffic makes the Orient much more accessible: Camels will go to retirement. But at the same time, turbans and kaftans will be on display only in museums of antiquity, and authentic [valódi] Muslims will be beings on whom lectures will be held in congresses on prehistory. True, we are quite afar from this era, but its antecedents and preparatory stages are evolving before our eyes. Yet will it be then still worthy for the scholar to yearn for those countries?⁵⁸⁴

These reflective remarks, which resemble the anxieties and dilemmas of twentieth century ethnographers, folklorists, and anthropologists, show strong personal concern for the integrity of studied oriental societies, without offering any criticism of Western “colonialism” as such. In sum, we can discern the contours of Goldziher’s approach to oriental scholarship in its colonialist context. He differentiated between colonialism

 Goldziher, “Vámbéry Ármin tiszt. tag emlékezete,” 553.  Goldziher, “Mekkai útazások,” 478 – 480; cf. Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 130 – 131; Moshfegh, “Race, Religion and the Question of the Orient in Islamwissenschaft,” 123 – 125. A. von Kremer is another example of an orientalist who was a colonial administrator and highly regarded by Goldziher; Conrad “Ignaz Goldziher on Ernest Renan,” 166 – 167.  Goldziher, “Mekkai útazások,” 465, 476 – 477, 482– 483.  Ibid., 479.

Religion, People, or Culture?

159

and scholarship promoted by it; between “pure” and “applied” science; and between imperialist powers (such as England, Holland, France, and Germany) and their scholars. He felt generally closer to Holland and British academic life than to German, but was tolerant towards German imperialism in a “cultural” key and appreciated the German emphasis on “pure” scholarship, pursuing academic research even “for its own sake.” And it seems that when he appreciated a particular scholar as a scholar, he refrained, as a rule, from criticizing his colonialist involvements.⁵⁸⁵

Religion, People, or Culture? In assessing the historical development of Islam and Judaism, Goldziher applied essentially the same viewpoints and criteria, paying particular attention to developmental processes, “residual” phenomena in religion—a main component of his interest in ethnology and folklore—and the essential role of competing political forces. As an observer of the contemporary religious scene, Goldziher was particularly sensitive to what he regarded as religious corruption and “swindle,” and spiritual stagnation and dead formalism, both in contemporary Islam as well as in Judaism.⁵⁸⁶ Yet, his criticism of the two “religions” was essentially different because his “familial” relationship to them was different. This emotional element should not be overlooked. He criticizes casuistry and dogmatic quibbling in Islam⁵⁸⁷ but also defends Islam from the criticism of formalistic-ritualistic religious practice⁵⁸⁸—criticism that he himself levels against Judaism without offering any similar apologetics.⁵⁸⁹ He approaches Islam as a “cousin” or sympathetic relative. He engages with it respectfully, even enthusiastically, with the openness and curiosity of an ethnographer and folklorist. Nothing Islamic is alien to him.⁵⁹⁰ Islam is a civ-

 The parenthetic remark of Moshfegh (“Race, Religion and the Question of the Orient in Islamwissenschaft,” 121– 122), “Goldziher was a decided anti-imperialist (even if less outspokenly so among his colleagues) […],” is certainly in place. Further investigations could establish whether his remark is an understatement or not.  Conrad, “The Dervish’s Disciple,” 239; “The Pilgrim from Pest,” 127, 129 – 131, 136.  “Jelentés a M. T. Akadémia könyvtára számára keletről hozott könyvekről,” 83, 85, 88 (Mestyan, “Ignác Goldziher’s Report on the Books,” 464– 465, 467); “Die Religion des Islam,” 111; Vorlesungen, 67– 70, 178 – 179, 183 – 185.  Az iszlám, 448 – 458; “Die Religion des Islam,” 111– 115.  See above, p. 126.  Cf. the similar phrase Goldziher uses in regards to H. Thorbecke (another student of Fleischer), T 125 – 126.

160

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography

ilization, a grand mosaic of ethno-religious cultures. By contrast, Judaism is a mere religion—and a petrified, dogmatic one. It has either detached itself from tradition, or is discordant with scholarship and the zeitgeist and has lost any meaningful, organic relationship with its own cultural environment. In order to put Goldziher’s emphasis on Judaism as a “religion” in proper context and to show the limits of his classification, we need to look also into his attitudes towards Jewish peoplehood and Zionism. The application of this nomenclature became increasingly sensitive and difficult for European Jews in the nineteenth century, depending upon the regions in which they lived. “[Abraham Shalom] Yahuda relates that in a lovely late-night hour Goldziher dreamed of spending his last years in the holy city [Jerusalem], surrounded by disciples in a traditional way, delivering a Talmudic shiur [lecture] as in his childhood, before his teacher Wolf Moses Freudenberg. However, all this could have been only a passing fancy”—according to Bernát Heller.⁵⁹¹ Zionism, he continues, was alien to him. It was his wish that persecuted Jews find a home in the Holy Land, and that Jews, Christians, and Muslims would coexist there in a brotherly way; he felt and confirmed that the love for Zion is expressed in the prayers so precious to him. This is what connects him to Zionism and nothing more. There were no nationalistic [nemzeties] elements mingling in his inward religiosity.⁵⁹²

Yahuda, a scholar of Jewish-Arabic literature and a Zionist who tried to foster Jewish-Arab understanding and cultural cooperation,⁵⁹³ presented Goldziher as someone having a modicum of Zionist sympathies⁵⁹⁴; Heller firmly contested this view in a letter to Yahuda already in 1925.⁵⁹⁵

 Heller, “Goldziher Ignác emlékezete,” 25. I do not find such a recollection in Yahuda’s articles; Yahuda may have communicated it to Heller in their correspondence; cf. below, n. 595. On the other hand, Yahuda quotes a not so different “fancy” from a letter of Goldziher (see below, n. 611), which lends itself less readily to be considered a “passing” fancy.  Ibid.  On Yahuda, his political activities, his failure to convince Theodor Herzl about the importance of building trust among Arabs and Jews, and Goldziher’s influence on him, see Evri, “Return to al-Andalus beyond German-Jewish Orientalism,” 341– 350.  A. S. Yahuda’s Hebrew articles on Goldziher contain relevant material on the latter’s connections with Islamic scholars, as well as on his and the latter scholars’ attitudes to the West and Zionism: "‫"יצחק יהודה גולדציהר‬, esp. 212– 216, 227– 228 (the latter passage is reproduced in his "‫"גולדציהר המלומד והיהודי‬, 27, with some changes; see below, n. 611). Unfortunately, this article, which was published originally in Ha-Olam (1924/25) (London), was not utilized by those scholars who touched upon these subjects, except with passing references by Scheiber, “Max Nordau’s Letters to Ignace Goldziher,” 199, and Heller, “Goldziher Ignác emlékezete,” 23, 25.

Religion, People, or Culture?

161

Some hitherto unknown sources, some remarks and interpretive nuances should complement Yahuda’s recollections, interpretation, and Heller’s quoted, succinct and trustworthy characterization. The difference between their understanding of the “Zionist” sympathies of Goldziher was probably not as sharp and significant as it seems. Identities are contrastive, their expressions situative. Goldziher was quoted as saying that “Jewishness is a religion and not an ethnographical term,”⁵⁹⁶ and that he could “not be anything other than a Hungarian.”⁵⁹⁷ These were demonstrably polemic utterances, to be understood against the backdrop of Hungarian antisemitism, which denied that Jews are, or even ever can be, true Hungarians; and some politicians even encouraged the dissimilation of Jews. Other similar, polemic utterances of Goldziher may have been occasioned by “Zionist” (or pro-Zionist) statements.⁵⁹⁸ Similarly, context should not be overlooked in other instances when Goldziher seemingly took opposite, pro-Zionist stances. The Budapest Rabbinical Seminary, under pressure from the Neolog lay leadership to take a stand against the Jewish “ethnic movement,” issued a patriotic declaration in January 1919, in the midst of a revolution, a wave of antisemitism, when political as well as Zionist voices urged Hungarian Jewry to redefine and reorganize itself as an ethnic minority. All this happened about the end of World War I, which had tragic con-

 Yahuda ("‫"יצחק יהודה גולדציהר‬, 227) quotes what Goldziher allegedly said to one of his Arab students (a Christian from Syria—Somogyi, “My Reminiscences of Ignace Goldziher,” 14– 15) at a public ceremony on the occasion of his seventieth birthday in 1920: “when you return to your homeland, tell your brothers that in fact all my life I labored for your people and my people.” Yahuda sent an offprint of his article to Heller, who challenged Yahuda’s recollection (or interpretation) in his reply: “I was present [at that event] at Goldziher’s speech […] and when Goldziher said in that forum to ‘tell your fellow citizens that I labored for two peoples,’ then there, before the faculty and student body of the University of Budapest, this could be understood only as referring to Hungary and to Arabs (Islam). Zionism was absolutely alien to Prof. Goldziher.” The letter (in German) is part of the Heller bequest in the Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary—University of Jewish Studies, Budapest; Letters, no. 174.  Goldziher’s letter to József Bánóczi from 1889; quoted by Heller, “Goldziher Ignác emlékezete,” 25 (and Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 61) (the letter is not part of the Goldziher–correspondence in the holdings of the Library of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences today; its current location is unknown).  Heller, “Goldziher Ignác emlékezete,” 22. Cf. the analogous statement of Steinthal, “Das auserwählte Volk oder Juden und Deutsche,” 14.  Cf. the anecdote recorded by a Jewish disciple of Mór Kármán and an admirer of Goldziher, according to which Goldziher spoke to him about Zionists respectfully but insisted (with a Hungarian literary reference, half humorously) that he “can not be a Zionist” and “can not yearn for any soil except the Hungarian soil”; Waldapfel, “Magyar zsidó kultúra,” 181.

162

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography

sequences for Hungary. The declaration stated (among other things) that “for 2000 years, Judaism has been a mere religion and not a nation [nemzet] or an ethnicity [nemzetiség],” and that Hungarian Jews are “sons of the Hungarian nation.” This declaration was signed by the entire faculty (11 professors and lecturers)—except Goldziher.⁵⁹⁹ He may have found fault with at least some of the formulations of the declaration, and it is reasonable to interpret the lack of his signature as an indication of his at least partial disagreement. Yet it is hard to find in the absence of his approval an expression of taking an ideological stand for “Zionism” or even against “anti-Zionism.”⁶⁰⁰ The issue was more intricate, and it is difficult even to see substantive differences between Goldziher’s views and those expressed in the declaration, which also states: Due to our religious ideas and brotherly [hittestvéri]⁶⁰¹ sentiments, we were and are devoted to the Holy Land, and warmly welcome and support every effort serving its interest. Martyrdom of 2000 years connects us to world Jewry with unbreakable bonds. We support all efforts, wherever they are, to liberate our oppressed brothers of faith [hitfeleink], with all the warmth of our heart and with all our might. […]

This part of the declaration too was carefully formulated in order to reflect a broad consensus of progressive Jewish public opinion, including a slowly increasing sense of universal Jewish solidarity and understanding of the significance of the Zionist enterprise in light of rising antisemitism. Collective, public, and political statements of Neology, and individual political or other statements of members of its elite, were also, quite naturally, context bound, and it is hard to draw a fine moral line between “situationism” and double talk. In any case, the views expressed in the declaration were close to Goldziher’s and it seems that the absence of his signature on the declaration can be attributed not so much to dissension over the content as to various other circumstances.⁶⁰² Like most progressive Jews of his time, Goldziher had diminishing sympathy for Jewish ethnicism, and he certainly was not a “Zionist” in the usual political sense of the term. His attitude towards Zionism is clearly expressed in his 1913

 See the published declaration: “Az Országos Rabbiképző Intézet Nyilatkozata.”  Cf. Lőwinger, “Goldziher,” 177.  In the original Hungarian, the adjective “hittestvéri” (rendered as “brotherly”) is derived from the compound noun “hittestvér,” meaning “brother of faith.”  At that time Goldziher already had health problems; he was often depressed, for personal and political reasons; he might have been frightened off by the politically highly charged context; he might also have been offended by procedural issues—and last but not least, in any case, he never felt comfortable with being on a common platform with the faculty of the Rabbinical Seminary on any given issue.

Religion, People, or Culture?

163

letter to Yahuda: “I could never be part of national Zionism, since nationally I am a Hungarian, which I have confirmed all throughout my life and which has never been questioned by my non-Jewish compatriots. Would Zionism bring about a renaissance of the religion of the prophets, I could and would welcome it. But this is not the case…”.⁶⁰³ For Goldziher the “historicist theologian,” history declared its verdict over Jewish ethnicism once and for all, but Goldziher the “ethnographer” saw the matter from a different perspective. The latter Goldziher also harboured positive feelings toward Jewish collectivity, beyond some forms of “tribal” solidarity in the context of antisemitism.⁶⁰⁴ For him the cultivation of the Bible and later Jewish literature in Hebrew was indispensable for Jewish and human progress—as in fact all “great” literatures and languages are essential parts of the symphony of world history. This is what Herder, Hegel, Wilhelm von Humboldt, and others taught. These philosophers of language, culture, and history were deeply influenced by the biblical accounts of the prehistoric origins of languages and nations, and the perpetual and central role accorded by the Prophets to the “nations” in universal history. Herder also found common ground between Jewish and German cultural (rather than political) concepts of national identity.⁶⁰⁵ Goldziher learned about these doctrines from Heymann Steinthal and Mór Kármán; the latter three enthusiastically applied the mentioned ideas also to Hebrew and Hungarian. Ethnopsychology (Völkerpsychologie), founded by Moritz Laza-

 “Zum nationalen Zionismus wurde ich niemals gehören können; da ich von Nation Unger bin, was ich während meiner ganzen Lebens bestätigt habe und was von meiner nichtjüdischen Landesgenossen auch niemals bezweifelt wurde. Wenn der Zionismus eine Renaissance der Religion der Propheten bewirken würde, möchte auch ich ihn […] willkommen. Das tut aber nicht…”—postcard to Abraham Shalom Yahuda, Budapest, August 22, 1913. Arc Ms Var Yah 38, National Library of Israel; emphasis in the original. The passage immediately following this one in the letter is quoted below, on p. 187.  Cf. above, n. 478. On nineteenth-century Jewish “tribal” identity and solidarity (as expressed by Adolf Jellinek, Moritz Lazarus, and Heymann Steinthal), see van Rahden, “Germans of the Jewish Stamm,” esp. 29 – 32; Kalmar, “Steinthal, the Jewish Orientalist,” 149 – 150. See also the incident recorded in T 276 (March 6, 1913) (and see Goldziher’s letter to Simonsen, in Appendix V), widely reported in contemporary sources: Goldziher refused to accept an exceptional treatment in receiving Russian visa to travel there, at a time when virtually no foreign Jews were allowed into that country: “Ignaz Goldziher, Budapest, appointed delegate by Hungarian Academy of Sciences to Congress of Academies to be held at St. Petersburg, resigns delegateship, and refuses to avail himself of permission to visit Russia as an act of grace. Hungarian press approves his conduct”—[Anon.], “Events in 5673,” 278; see also Heller, “Goldziher Ignác emlékezete,” 26. For early statements reflecting his generally “nationalist”-patriotic (and “anti-colonialist”) attitudes, see “A vallásos eszme fejlődése,” 359 – 360, 365 – 366.  Kohn, The Idea of Nationalism, 427– 451.

164

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography

rus and Steinthal (who were liberal Jews, close friends, and in-laws), was predicated upon complexities of post-emancipation Jewish identity in Western and— particularly—Central Europe, beyond a German trend and tradition of philosophy of history that considered the “general spirit” of peoples as the central medium of human progress. Large segments of post-emancipation progressive Jews, as well as non-Jews, considered Jewishness as something more (or less) than a “religion” or an ethnic identity.⁶⁰⁶ Völkerpsychologie’s—albeit elusive—notion of “folk spirit” should be understood partly as an effort to redefine Jewish identity under the post-emancipation conditions. This notion, and the attending redefinition of national identity and consciousness by founders of Völkerpsychologie were conceived to also address the Jewish historical predicament. It may even seem as if this discipline was indeed invented to resolve the paradoxical yearning or impression of contemporaries that Judaism ceased to be a “folk” (i. e., a people), but its “spirit” still lingers on. In defining “nation” and national identity, subjective elements (shared sense of belonging, pride, and mission; shared historical memories and aspirations) were stressed by Lazarus and Steinthal in 1860, and by József Eötvös already ten years before in his influential work.⁶⁰⁷ This understanding served as the theoretical foundation of the stance—a central and problematic tenet of modern Jewish identity politics—that the national identity of (German, Hungarian, etc.) Jews is a matter of their subjective choice and sentiments.⁶⁰⁸ As we have shown above, Goldziher was distrustful toward the generalizations of ethnopsychology, yet he himself manifested the ambiguities of Jewish identity that gave rise to this discipline. His apparent, probably limited, sympathies towards certain dimensions of Zionism is actually implied by his aversion towards Zionism: this aversion was confined to a strong disinclination towards “national” (i. e., political) Zionism only.⁶⁰⁹

 Klautke, The Mind of the Nation, 11, 19 – 20, 26; Kalmar, “Steinthal, the Jewish Orientalist,” 138 – 139.  Eötvös, Der Einfluss der herrschenden Ideen des 19. Jahrhunderts auf den Staat, I, 50 – 51, 81; idem, A nemzetiségi kérdés, [9]; Lazarus, and Steinthal, “Einleitende Gedanken über Völkerpsychologie,” 34– 37.  That is, if German Jewish individuals identify with Germany and “feel” themselves as Germans, no one has the “right” to question their identity. Turán, “Sorsközösség,” 12– 13, 15 – 18.  The question of Goldziher’s attitude toward Zionism is complicated by the various meanings that this term carried in Hungary historically. Hungarian Zionism (which had very limited success, even between the two World Wars), propagated mostly a “humanitarian” and cultural Zionism (as opposed to political Zionism). As in Western Europe, this message was tailored to a Jewry that had witnessed violent and oppressive antisemitism in Eastern Europe since the beginning of the twentieth century, without feeling itself threatened by such levels of antisemitism. As

Religion, People, or Culture?

165

His limited affinities for Zionism apparently strengthened somewhat in his later years when he had to face the fact that some of his compatriots started to question his Hungarianness. In 1920 Max Nordau and A. S. Yahuda sent Goldziher letters urging him to settle in Palestine in order to teach at the Hebrew University and promote a peaceful coexistence between Arabs and Jews. He politely refused, referring to his advanced age, his patriotic attachment to Hungary, his loss of confidence in succeeding in such a mission, and his inability to move his library there.⁶¹⁰ However, an ideological or other opposition to the Zionist enterprise was missing from these explanations. Moreover, it seems that personally he was positively attuned to the idea of such a mission, regardless of his mentioned excuses.⁶¹¹ In 1921 the Zionist leader Nahum Sokolow asked Goldziher to come to Palestine for a few months to foster understanding between Jews and Arabs. Again he refused—for reasons similar to those he referred to the year before.⁶¹² “Jewishness is a religion and not an ethnographical term.”⁶¹³ In its historical context (i. e., nineteenth century progressive Hungarian Judaism) this declaration was something other than a sober, descriptive statement; it was rather an assessment, joyful or sorrowful or both, of current trends (primarily in Western Europe), an article of faith, or a battle cry. Moreover, as I tried to show above, for in Germany, France, etc., Zionism was compatible with patriotism in Hungary too; they represented different types of loyalties—see Aberbach, “Zionist Patriotism in Europe.”  Yahuda, "‫"יצחק יהודה גולדציהר‬, 227; Scheiber, “Max Nordau’s Letters to Ignace Goldziher,” 201– 202, and see especially his quotation from Goldziher’s draft letter to Nordau on p. 205, n. 20 (the current location of this draft is unknown to me).  Yahuda ("‫"יצחק יהודה גולדציהר‬, 227– 228) cites Goldziher’s letter to him: if I could go there [to Palestine] along with my books, “I would devote the rest of my life to bringing Arabs closer to our people [Jews] and to bring peace between Muslims and Jews, because I firmly believe that if Muslims reach the cultural niveau (‫ )מדרגה בהשכלה‬reached by Christian peoples, they will not behave toward us as they do.” In a later article Yahuda quotes apparently the same letter with slight differences, especially in its first part: “I would go there if I could bring with me my books […]” ("‫"גולדציהר המלומד והיהודי‬, 27). See also Goitein, “Goldziher,” 21– 23.  Lőwinger, “Goldziher,” 175 – 177.  This pietist-purist attitude toward Judaism and its “religion,” and especially the political sensitivity of presenting Judaism in an “ethnographic” context and suggesting that it has an “ethnic” component as well, probably explains why Goldziher opposed the establishment of a department for Jewish ceremonial objects in the Hungarian Ethnographic Museum and prevented it. It somewhat obfuscates the matter to say that he objected out of a pious concern about “profaning” Judaism or out of reverence for the tradition; Kohlbach, “A bűnbocsánat napja,” 272; Scheiber, “Kohlbach Bertalan és a zsidó néprajz,” 442. (Concerning Goldziher’s aversion to the idea of a Jewish department at the Ethnographic Museum, Scheiber later apparently drew nearer to the mentioned “political” explanation, without giving up his original interpretation which followed Kohlbach’s and referred to him; see his “Le folklore juif dans la Revue des Études Juives,” 19.)

166

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography

Goldziher Judaism in fact was not merely a religion; he insisted on some organic, historic blend of religion, ethnicity, and culture, not only in viewing Islam, but also seemingly, in the back of his mind, in relation to Judaism as well, at least in certain respects and contexts. Concerning the “religion or people” dilemma of modern Judaism he displayed the same complexity and opacity that characterized the attitudes of large segments of Neolog Jewry in this matter. A minor but telling stylistic token of progressive Jewish public standards in Hungary at that time, as well as of Goldziher’s hesitations and self-censorship in this matter, was his replacing the phrase “the entire Jewish people” [az egész zsidó nép] (his own original wording) with “the entire Jewish community/congregation” [az egész zsidó közösség/gyülekezet] in two places (within the same sentence) in the autograph manuscript of the last (i. e., sixth) lecture of his “The Essence and Evolution of Judaism.” He regarded Judaism, quite consistently, historically as a “race/people and a religion,”⁶¹⁴ and in present and future times as a “denomination.”⁶¹⁵ The cited stern “performative” declaration of Goldziher (“Jewishness is a religion …”) was a combination of all the mentioned elements (i. e., subjective assessment, article of faith, battle cry), but it also captured a major asymmetry between his attitudes toward Islam and Judaism, which is often manifest in his utterances, and sometimes in his scholarly writings too. Goldziher as a scholar, to be sure, was interested to some extent in Jewish ethnography and folklore, and he occasionally provided comparative references; however, his interest and knowledge served as nothing more than faded grid lines for mapping Arabic-Islamic territory. The mentioned asymmetry is particularly blatant in the oriental diary. If a quest for authenticity (an aesthetic category) drives his scholarly interest in ethnography and folklore (cf. OrD, 144), then he found at best only nostalgic traces of such authenticity in modern Judaism.⁶¹⁶ Even simple Muslim folk impress him (as enlightened European minds were often inspired by uncorrupted “aliens” or “aboriginals”): “I value and love these noble ignorant people” (OrD, 104). He pays homage to their “simplicity” (OrD, 105). A man of plebeian inclinations, he appreciates the control that “Jewish and Muhammedan laymen are able to exercise over their clergy” (OrD, 105).⁶¹⁷ Yet this communal cohesion, this structural

 “A pesti talmud-tóra,” 540; “A haladásról,” 621.  “A bibliai tudomány és a modern vallásos élet,” 164; “A haladásról,” 621.  For his negative experiences, esp. in the ritual setting, see T 163 (Augut 3, 1893), 254 (September 20, 1906).  Paraphrasing this source, Simon (Goldziher Ignác, 189) mistakenly pairs Judaism with Christianity instead of Islam.

Religion, People, or Culture?

167

similarity between Islam and Judaism (mentioned by Goldziher in order to highlight the differences between the two religions on the one hand, and Christianity on the other), does not prevent him from recognizing signs of disintegration in the two religious communities that manifest themselves in markedly different ways. He views Judaism as an insider, a close family member who evaluates his close relatives with a ruthless, critical eye because he (unlike more distant relatives) is hurt by their behavior. His coreligionists, especially the urbanized, “decayed Jewish proletariat” (OrD, 96), whom he knows all too well, are mostly repulsive to him. Given Goldziher’s temperament and his stakes in Jewish renewal and progress, particularly at the time of his study tour and until the 1880s, the mentioned asymmetry should not surprise us. His emotions behind these assessments (and their expressions) may have lost their sharpness during the later stages of his life, but the double standard (i. e., the duality of his basic attitudes toward Islam and Judaism) did not change. In 1899 he described the “survival” of the ancient veneration of saints and the cult of their shrines, and particularly the vestiges of Shiite (and “incarnationist” Fatimide Ismā‛ili) influence, in Egypt. He demonstrated, objectively but with a measure of sympathy and scholarly satisfaction, the above-mentioned “religious” control of laymen over their clergy (and government), and the power of popular religion and ijmā‛. ⁶¹⁸ To be sure, Goldziher was far from giving a similar approval to all manifestations of Muslim popular religion.⁶¹⁹ But can one imagine Goldziher describing and “endorsing” major phenomena of Jewish popular religion, such as Hasidic practices related to visiting the graves of rebbes, once widespread in large parts of Eastern Europe, with a similar “objectivity” and tolerance, giving his scholarly stamp on the victory of popular religion over “pure” faith? Hardly.⁶²⁰ The two main reasons are that he looks at Judaism and Islam from different personal perspectives, and as a consequence he frames these religious cultures differently. In the Islamic realm he was inclined to take his community-principle (ijmā‛) in a “plebeian” sense. In thinking about Judaism (and modern European Judaism, in particular), on the other hand, he substituted this “plebeian” consensus and popular reli-

 “Az egyiptomi iszlám,” esp. 728 – 744.  For instance, he severely criticized some “abuses” of Islamic mysticism (Sufism)—especially in “Western” Islam, in which it “reckoned with the ignorance of the multitude, fostering their superstitious propensities”: “The Spanish Arabs and Islam,” 36 – 38.  Cf. his early booklet in which he argued against the widespread custom of inserting religious poems (piyyutim) into core prayers of Jewish liturgy, relying on numerous (but mostly non-Ashkenazic) authorities: Sichat-Jiczchak, 9 – 11.

168

VI Between Historicist “Science of Religion” and Ethnography

gious spirit and sentiment with the more elitist-intellectualist notion of “cultivated-educated” consciousness or sentiment. In his Jewish writings, we hear a historicist theologian, a “reformer” speaking authoritatively and judgmentally in the name of progress and timeliness. In sum, as far as tensions between progress and tradition, and Zeitgeist and Volksgeist, are concerned, Goldziher tends to defend the latter against the former when it comes to Islam. In the case of Judaism, on the contrary, he usually scorns the Volksgeist (the “communal sentiment” of the conservative masses) in the name of the Zeitgeist.

VII Between Tradition and Reform As we saw in the previous chapter, Goldziher had a vested interest in the science of religion as a guide for further developing monotheism. His dual perspective: science of religion, complemented by ethnography, was a manifestation of his dual, insider-outsider, researcher-reformer attitude towards Judaism and Islam. It was axiomatic for Goldziher that a true religious transformation and renewal must be organic, coming from within and emerging from, or parallel with the formation of, a new consensus. At that point organicist reformers face the difficult question of how new consensuses arise and how to advance, as efficiently as possible, their emergence. Did Goldziher have a consistent position on this issue? Did he have more concrete “plans” or blueprints for advancing his ideals? How did he relate to contemporary reform trends in Islam and Judaism? Were his own “reform” ideas for Islam and Judaism in tune with one another? This chapter focuses on answering these questions. For Goldziher, a main objective for religious progress in Judaism and Islam was doing away with legalism and casuistry, and he thought this could be accomplished without compromising the integrity of “tradition” as he perceived it. The question was how to get there, in terms of legal method, Biblical and Quranic hermeneutics, and other means. Goldziher commented on contemporary reform efforts in the Islamic context taking place in Egypt. In his pronouncements on contemporary Jewish religious renewal he was reluctant to go into specifics, yet ideologically his views were more sustained and elaborate in the Jewish than in the Islamic context. We will devote most of this chapter to his views on Jewish “reform”—first surveying them and then with separate sections on the main influences that shaped his views, and on his treatment of “dogma.”

Reform à la Goldziher in Islam and Judaism The basic prerequisite for reaching a higher stage in either religion was, in Goldziher’s eyes, a historical self-reflection on their sacred writings and complementary traditions, and a critical sifting and reassessment thereof. As he commented concerning Islam, “The adherents of Islam can only raise themselves to a higher level of religious life if they study their religion in an historical way”⁶²¹ and that “[modernizing] cultural tendencies intimately related to religious life that are making themselves felt in various parts of the Muslim world carry the seeds of  “Die Religion des Islams,” 142. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285-009

170

VII Between Tradition and Reform

a new phase in the evolution of Islam. Under their influence, perhaps the theology of Islam will reach an objective, historical view of its sources.”⁶²² However, even if these hopes were to become reality, the transition from historical self-reflection to a reform program would require calculated decisions—or a leap of faith. In modern Judaism several progressive platforms and movements emerged under the spell of historicism. What separated them from each other was a controversial epistemological-theological divide (not unlike the fault lines drawn between the four most important traditional legal schools of Islam): the question of the sources of the normative-legal tradition and particularly the roles of human intellect and authority in legal decision-making, both theoretical and practical. Two incisive progressive ideologies for halakhic change evolved among German progressive Jewry in the first half of the nineteenth century. One is a bottomup model that envisioned moderate changes in a slow, gradual process, embraced simultaneously by a wide range of Jewish circles. The other was a topdown model that strove for more radical changes, relying on self-confident rabbinic authority and initiatives of a rabbinic elite, that is ready to move forward more quickly even with limited acceptance by relatively small Jewish circles. These attitudes (characterized here in a rudimentary and simplified form, around and between which individual variations existed) can be associated with representative figures of inner-Jewish debates and struggles of that era, including Zacharias Frankel (1801– 1875) and Samuel Holdheim (1806 – 1869). Let us take a look at a classic example of the historical unfolding of these platforms and their interaction with each other and with orthodoxy. In ancient times the declaration of the beginning of a new month (upon which the date of festivals depended), based on visual observation of the new moon, was a prerogative of rabbinic bodies in the Holy Land. Calendrical doubts (due to “logistic” difficulties in spreading the rabbinic declarations) in diaspora communities led to the observance of a Second Day of the festivals (except Yom Kippur) outside the Land of Israel.⁶²³ However, already in Late Antiquity (apparently from the fourth century C.E.) a fixed calendar began to spread,⁶²⁴ which raised the question, from Talmudic times onwards, of whether or not the observance of the Second Day of the festivals was still necessary and justifiable. In the Babylonian Talmud (bBetza 4b) we find a positive answer to this question, with a convoluted justification: “Be careful with [observing] the custom that you have from  Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 263.  The New Year was celebrated for two days even in the Land of Israel.  The development of the calendrical theory, and especially the dissemination of its practical use in the Jewish diaspora, took centuries.

Reform à la Goldziher in Islam and Judaism

171

your fathers; sometimes the [non-Jewish] government may pass decrees and you may come to err.”⁶²⁵ The majority of the Islamic world still follows a lunar calendar based on visual observation (similar to the ancient Jewish practice described above), and does not accept a fixed calendar. The problem in Judaism was not whether the fixed calendar was an “innovation,” or whether or not it was acceptable as such. The Jewish problem was whether or not, despite the fixed calendar, the old “custom” of observing the Second Day was still relevant and should have been adhered to. Traditional, “Orthodox,” rabbinic Judaism permanently answered “yes” to this question, and until modern times the second day was observed in the entire Jewish diaspora. Some “non-Orthodox” groups since the 1840s, on the other hand, declared that the Second Day is no longer relevant and should not be adhered to.⁶²⁶ All of these standpoints could find some justification in the Talmudic opinion cited above.⁶²⁷

 Oppressive measures by the government may result in “errors,” flaws, or difficulties in calculating the new moon or in the mechanism of spreading the news about the declaration of the new moon.  The abolishment of the Second Day in “mainstream” Judaism was raised first at the turn of the nineteenth century. For various reform positions and their Orthodox rejection, see Katz, “The Orthodox Defense of the Second Day of the Festivals.” In the 1960s American Conservative Judaism declared the observance of the Second Day “optional” (that is, it is up to individual congregations and their rabbis to decide their policy on this issue), but in subsequent decades only a small number of congregations decided to abandon its observance.  The main fault line between traditionalist and progressive camps in Judaism in this issue (as in numerous others) involved attitudes towards normative practice and declared (or perceived) motives behind them. If historical circumstances or other “reasons” that in the past justified a certain custom or rabbinic decree were deemed by progressives irrelevant under changed circumstances, they were ready to invalidate the given custom or norm (more radical progressives proceeded similarly even with certain biblical norms). Traditionalist Judaism was more inclined to maintain religious norms and practice (especially if tradition vested it with high rabbinic authority), even if the reasons given to them by tradition became pointless. Part of the earliest textual witnesses of the cited Talmudic argument take the warning about “governmental decrees” as a motive for preserving the “custom” of observing the Second Day of festivals in the diaspora—and reformers correspondingly argued that the Second Day can (and even should) be abolished, since “governmental decrees” can do no harm anymore to Jewish calendrical practices. The other part of the early textual witnesses, however, suggests that the injunction to preserve the “custom” of the Second Day is independent of the danger of “governmental decrees.” For medieval rabbinic amplifications on the abolishment of rabbinic decrees, the reasons of which became irrelevant, see Rabinowitch, Mishne Torah […] with commentary Yad Pshutah […], 514– 524 (to Hilkhot Mamrim, 2:2– 3). Whether for the first component of the Talmudic argument or for both, or for maintaining, as a matter of principle, the validity of ancient rabbinic enactments even if the reason behind them became irrelevant, post-Talmudic halakhic tradition continued to observe the Second Day until modernity, regarding it as an ancient enactment of

172

VII Between Tradition and Reform

Modern living conditions and progressive Judaism raised the question with double force. A conference of Reform rabbis held in Breslau in 1846 favored the abolishment of the Second Day, and Samuel Holdheim, who became rabbi of the Berlin Reform congregation, implemented the change. Around that time Zacharias Frankel too was initially open to the idea of abolishment, but only if a wide rabbinic consensus would support it, and soon he withdrew even his conditional support for the abolition.⁶²⁸ Where did Goldziher stand in this battlefield of reform? On key issues he echoed more or less the stances of Abraham Geiger and Leopold Löw (especially in the later part of their careers), who both occupied intermediary positions between Frankel’s “Positive-Historical” Judaism and Holdheim’s Reform.⁶²⁹ Geiger and Löw had quite radical back-to-the-Bible reform-visions which they never gave up. However, as their careers progressed, they became increasingly moderate and pragmatic in strategic and tactical matters.⁶³⁰ In Jewish reform struggles Goldziher was active only in a limited capacity, but that was enough for him to

Oral Law and not a mere custom. See the responsum of R. Hai gaon in Lewin, ed., Otzar ha-geonim, IV, 8 – 9.  Frankel, “Die Symptome der Zeit,” 16; Brämer, “Samuel Holdheim and Zacharias Frankel,” 222– 223. Whoever reads Frankel’s “Über Reformen im Judenthume,” 19 – 21, will not be surprised about his change of mind; his general ideas presented there hardly allow for changes in the observance of the Second Day. Alexander Kohut (1842– 1894; a graduate of the Breslau Rabbinical Seminary headed by Frankel, and one of the founders of The Jewish Theological Seminary of America), once inaugurated as rabbi of Congregation Ahavath Chesed in New York in 1885, reinstated the observance of the Second Day, abolished by his predecessor Adolf Hübsch (a fellow Hungarian): Lupovitch, “Navigating Rough Waters,” 59.  The religious platforms mentioned in this book—the Orthodox, the Reform, the PositiveHistorical and the Neolog—were essentially recognized and characterized by Leopold Löw as early as 1837 by what he called the “rabbinic,” the “accommodationist,” and the “historical” approaches; see Turan, “Leopold Löw,” 44*–45*, notes 7– 8. Hungarian Neologs themselves constituted a whole spectrum, ranging from modernist Orthodoxy through conservative to more liberal reform. The observation of van Ess (“Goldziher as a Contemporary of Islamic Reform,” 42) that it was “status quo” Judaism “with which Goldziher seems to have felt most at ease” is appealing, but misleading. Goldziher could find common ground with so-called “status quo” Judaism in rejecting the Hungarian “schism,” but certainly not in the religious (mostly Orthodox) outlook and practice of the latter.  At a Breslau conference of progressive rabbis in 1846 Geiger supported the decision to abolish the Second Day, but as congregational rabbi he was more cautious. He wanted to “phase out” the observation of the Second Day by weakening it gradually (see Katz, “The Orthodox Defense of the Second Day of the Festivals,” 276 – 277), but in his last years, serving in the Berlin Reform community he restored the observance of the Second Day, apparently in order to prevent sectarianism.

Reform à la Goldziher in Islam and Judaism

173

feel the strength of the conservative opposition—as did Geiger in Breslau (in the so-called Tiktin-Affair)⁶³¹ and Löw in Pápa, in the 1830s and 1840s. Goldziher was not a rabbi; he was not (and did not claim to be) an original Jewish religious thinker either. In his writings he did not discuss the particulars of “reform”: he did not give specifics of what sort of religious norms or practices should be changed or how. As we will see, he disapproved of the term “reform” itself, ultimately because much of what was called Jewish “reform” in his times was apparently a “dogmatic” construction with strong accommodating tendencies in his eyes. His stance and distrustfulness toward this type of “reform” seems to be aptly indicated by the motto given by the editor (Ábrahám Stern) of his lectures on “The Essence and Evolution of Judaism”: “The old notions about religion can be defeated only by more religion, not by unreligion.”⁶³² Goldziher related to Jewish “reform” mostly in the context of the general historical and philosophical question (and the question of the science of religion) of how “tradition” changes, and how to galvanize change in the “masses” through education. For all these reasons it would be more appropriate to speak about his vision of a Jewish “renewal” or “revitalization” rather than “reform” (for the sake of convenience, however, I will often use the more familiar latter term below). As for such a revitalization, he continuously emphasized three points: (1) that the Jewish “tradition” and religious consciousness should be brought in line with the “educated (Jewish) common sentiment”; (2) that this revitalization should affect the entire edifice of the Jewish tradition, and reach out to the widest possible Jewish circles; (3) and that Jewish historical-critical scholarship constitutes a new stage of “tradition” itself, and it is the task of this scholarship to “articulate the educated Jewish common sentiment” and to revise tradition, separating those elements that do not conform it (i. e., separating “dead” traditions from “living” ones).⁶³³ The last point should be underlined. “Scholarship” was Goldziher’s answer to the questions: “How do we move forward?,” What is the locus of the “educated (Jewish) common sentiment”?, and “What should be the agent of change and of reaching a ‛new consensus’ in Judaism?” Geiger, Frankel, and Leopold Löw

 See Heschel, Abraham Geiger and the Jewish Jesus, 34– 37, and literature cited there.  “Die alten Vorstellungen über Religion sind nur zu besiegen durch mehr Religion, nicht durch Unreligion.”—Auerbach, Briefe an seinen Freund Jakob Auerbach, II, 101. I must leave it to the reader to find out what was meant by the author, a Spinozist and an emotional Jew (see Katz, “Berthold Auerbach’s Anticipation of the German-Jewish Tragedy,” esp. 219 – 220, 223 – 226, 231– 232) by “religion” and “unreligion”.  Goldziher, A zsidóság lényege, 35, 121– 122; idem, Tradition und Dogma, esp. 3 – 4, 8 – 9 (“Hagyomány és dogma,” 369 – 371, 373).

174

VII Between Tradition and Reform

also put their hopes in scholars and scholarship as key agents of change,⁶³⁴ with the significant difference that they had in mind primarily Jewish (including rabbinic) scholarship and Jewish scholars and “theologians” (not necessarily rabbis), while in Goldziher’s plan the “science of religion” was given a key role. The above-mentioned three (numbered) ideas promulgated by Goldziher were criticized by Frankel and other exponents of “Positive-Historical” Judaism generations before Goldziher, as well as by Neolog rabbis who were Goldziher’s contemporaries.⁶³⁵ After some enthusiastic efforts by Goldziher that did not bear fruit to recruit Jewish scholars to spread scholarship and to make a case for progress (at least among the “educated” Jewish audience), in the longer term education (particularly lower education) remained the main avenue and vehicle for him to facilitate the Jewish revitalization that he believed in. As we have seen in earlier chapters of the book, in this field he remained active for as long as he served in the Jewish community (much beyond his essential estrangement from Jewish scholarship). At certain periods in their careers, Geiger and Löw were inclined to separatism, while at others they showed more sensitivity for klal Yisrael and for the Jewish people in its entirety and were more concerned about potential schisms or sectarianism as a result of reforms that they supported in principle. Goldziher’s attitude throughout his life was characterized by a strong sense for the latter, inclusivist view; his focus on education was motivated by the traditional attitude of “we will go with our young and our old, with our sons and our daughters, and with our flocks and herds […]” (Ex. 10:9). As for the roles of theology and scholarship, Goldziher, like Löw, was at odds with mainstream Neologs. He was also unhappy with Neolog forms of worship. Yet it was not only his livelihood that attached him to the Neologs. Socially and also in terms of religious practice, he was closer to Neologs than to any other group on the Hungarian religious map. He became a leading source of inspiration for a number of his liberal-minded students from the Budapest Rabbinical

 For Frankel’s succinct views, see his “Über Reformen im Judenthume,” 22– 24 (for a translation—albeit an abridged and imprecise one, with erroneous source-references—see MendesFlohr and Reinharz, eds., The Jew in the Modern World, 218 – 219).  (1) and (3) were stock Reformist ideas; for difficulties inherent in the notion of “educated Jewish common sentiment” (and its Protestant background), see Vajda, “Vallásoktatás,” 47– 48; on problems of scholarship as an agent of change, see, e.g, Frankel, “Über Reformen im Judenthume,” 23 – 24; on separating “dead” and “living” traditions, see Kohut, “Which is Right?,” 67, and cf. Frankel’s comments on popular resistance to religious reforms as a sign of life, “Über Reformen im Judenthume,” 20.

Reform à la Goldziher in Islam and Judaism

175

Seminary.⁶³⁶ Promoting his above-mentioned guidelines on Jewish renewal, which were more radical than the Neolog platform on several key issues (particularly on education and the role of scholarship), was socially a sensitive matter for him. It is no surprise that his most articulate statements on Neologs and “reform,” in the form of a series of three short polemical (and sarcastic) articles against Neology, were written under a pseudonym. In the articles, he called upon Neologs to account for their abandonment of Orthodoxy with its selfless devotion to Talmudic learning in favor of merely aesthetic “improvements” in the synagogue. In one of the articles he says, “This is the first example in the history of religions in which religious development is based on aesthetics and not on theology.”⁶³⁷ However, even a synagogue cult has a threefold task: to represent the national and religious heritage of Jews, to offer a religious vision for the future, and to express the common ethico-religious sentiments and convictions of Jewry. “Common sentiments” (közérzület) and “common convictions” (közmeggyőződés), parallels to ijmā‛, are key terms here. In all of his writings related to Jewish renewal, Goldziher insisted that it is the supreme task of Jewish theology to give voice to the common religious sentiments and convictions of the modern educated Jewish public and to help accommodate them to modern scholarship—in sciences as well as in humanities. Parallel to his disappointment in facilitating Jewish “reform” in Hungary, Goldziher increasingly transferred his hopes and ideas for “reform” to Islam and the Islamic orbit, as a paradigm for (monotheistic) religious renewal. As a Hungarian Jew residing in Budapest, he had very limited impact on processes in Islamic societies, but his works and correspondences testify to his interest in contemporary developments in the Islamic world and in prospects of Islamic reform (interests that developed during his oriental journey). In Goldziher’s mind, the program of Islamic reform was essentially already given by Muhammad ibn al-Ghazali (c. 1057– 1111), who although he “had numerous enemies

 See, for instance, Bertalan Kohlbach’s (one of Goldziher’s talented rabbinical students, a liberal rabbi and a scholar of Jewish folklore) letter to Goldziher (in Hungarian): “[…] in the back of my mind I had the scientific standpoint nurtured by the lectures of Bacher—our only honest professor at the [Rabbinical] Seminary—the readings of You, Professor, and the writings of Abr. Geiger. […]” (GIL/21/31/01). See also p. 191 below. After Goldziher’s death, the students’ theological study circle of the Rabbinical Seminary was named after him; see A Ferencz-József Országos Rabbiképző Intézet Értesítője a 1923/24-es tanévről, 6.  “A haladásról,” 620. The sentence (quoted from a “friend” but probably from Goldziher himself) polemicizes against a dictum of Abraham Hochmuth, to the effect that Neologs differ from Orthodoxy only in that they represent “different grades of aesthetics”—Hochmuth, “A budapesti hittanárok tantervjavaslata,” 697.

176

VII Between Tradition and Reform

like every reformer,” attained a unique standing in the Islamic tradition.⁶³⁸ In his major work, The Revival of the Religious Sciences (Iḥyāʾ ʿulūm al-dīn), al-Ghazali —writes Goldziher in 1874—fought against formalism, ritualism and empty casuistry and against the “fossilization of spirit” that characterized Islam then as it did in Goldziher’s times. He writes: “The al-Ghazali of contemporary Islam is yet to step up. Islam’s productivity in general has ceased, and its escape from danger depends only on which trend it is going to associate with in its further development, from those that developed from it historically. As far as I saw, it seeks its salvation in the dry system of fikh [jurisprudence].”⁶³⁹ Thus, there is no doubt that Goldziher had a stake in Islamic—or universalist monotheistic— “reform” already in the first half of the 1870s, and by then al-Ghazali had already been his hero in Islam. From 1881 we have his rich, semipopular work Az iszlám, which amounts to a full program of his Islamic scholarship, including the historical-critical study of Hadith⁶⁴⁰; this program was conceived with a vested interest in Islamic “reform.” In this book we read: It is not Europeanization from which the spiritual renaissance of the oriental Muslim world can be expected […] but […] the development of conditions of progress from the organism of Islam itself – awakening elements of inner development and progress. That these elements are not absent in the organism of Islam can be easily demonstrated by any adept of this organism.⁶⁴¹

It is clear that the lens through which Goldziher viewed Islam, and the basic cultural and religious values that governed his ideas about Islamic “reform,” were formed in the 1870s, in wake of his personal encounter with Islam at the latest.⁶⁴²

 See above, n. 463.  “Jelentés a M. T. Akadémia könyvtára számára Keletről hozott könyvekről,” 83 – 85, here 85 (Mestyan, “Ignác Goldziher’s Report on the Books,” 464– 465, here 465).  For traditional and scientific Hadith-criticism, see Az iszlám, esp. 147– 191.  Ibid., 364.  The quoted passages raise some questions about the timing, pace and intensity of Goldziher’s transformation from a Jewish reformer into an Islamicist reformer, as reconstructed by Moshfegh (Ignaz Goldziher and the Rise of Islamwissenschaft, 212, 316 – 317, 321– 336; idem, “Race, Religion and the Question of the Orient in Islamwissenschaft,” 121, n. 76). In his view the diary’s account of the oriental journey, with its “idealization” of Islam, was a retrojection of Goldziher’s final turn to Islamic scholarship and the transference of his reform plans at the time of writing that account in 1890 (for al-Ghazali, cf. Moshfegh’s Ignaz Goldziher, 335). It is true that in Goldziher’s works in the first half of the 1870s (1) the historical-critical assessment of Hadith was not accentuated as a central component in the path to reform; (2) he was not overly optimistic about the chances of Islamic reform; and (3) Jewish reform was still his primary focus. It seems likely, however, that the study tour was (or quickly became) a field trip with a

Reform à la Goldziher in Islam and Judaism

177

While this (liberal) “Protestant” sort of lens⁶⁴³ was partly similar to that through which he viewed Judaism, it differed markedly in other respects—in regard to Goldziher’s position and status within the two religions’ spheres, for example. This is why his transference (of emotions, knowledge, and commitments) from the Jewish realm to the Islamic realm was only partial. In the former realm, he remained an important and active player even after his return to Budapest. Broadly speaking, despite his growing desperation, he wanted to make an impact on Hungarian (and greater European) Judaism, and his message was heard, even if only in limited circles. In the Islamic realm, however, he was probably not much more than a remote, scholarly advocate of reform. From “progressive” Muslim perspectives, he likely was more or less a respectable scholar and valuable supporter with some limited influence at best, yet ultimately an outsidcomparative reformist agenda (as L. I. Conrad presented it), even if there is little trace of such sense of purpose in the OrD itself (cf. ibid., 324– 325). Moshfegh (like Patai and van Ess before him, on a limited scale) has made important observations on discrepancies between the two diaries. In the diary’s account of the journey, there were accentuations and emphases that reflected, apparently, Goldziher’s state of mind in 1890 rather than at the actual time of the journey. However, the balance between continuities and discontinuities in personal or historical development is always a function of perspective, and I tend to see in the discrepancies the result of gradual and limited shifts rather than dramatic changes and outright retrojection. Goldziher’s identification with Islam and his interest in Islamic reform, which were relatively limited at the time of the journey, steadily strengthened in the 1870s and 1880s, took on a more academic mantle, and were transformed into a scholarly reform program (with a historico-critical sifting of Hadith as a central element) as a result of the mentioned transference. The potential for this transference is clearly present to readers of the OrD and of such works as his “Tanügyi reformok Egyiptomban” (1873), “Jelentés a M. T. Akadémia könyvtára számára Keletről hozott könyvekről” (1874), or Az iszlám (1881). The result of this relatively slow transformation was little more than scholarly advocacy of Islamic reform—an upgraded substitute and a downgraded extension, a Hegelian “sublation” [Aufhebung], it seems, of his initially predominantly Jewish “reform” vision and critical-historical credo.  Friedrich Kern (1874– 1921), who studied with Goldziher in Budapest for some time in 1898 and 1900 (cf. T 228; May 9, 1900, and Schmidtke,”‘Er versinkt aber in einem Meer von Handschriften’,” 325 – 326), remarks about the father of the Ḥanafi school of Islam that “older literature speaks about him as a Protestant and a liberal”: “Abú Hanífa élete és iratai,” 241– 242. This paper was originally presented at the Copenhagen Congress of Orientalists in 1908, and Goldziher briefly reviewed it in his “Jelentés az orientalisták XV. nemzetközi congressusáról,” 550; see also Schmidtke, “‘Er versinkt aber in einem Meer von Handschriften’,” 332. Kern was born as a Jew, and converted to Lutheranism in 1894; ibid., 319 – 321. The most progressive of the four “schools” in Goldziher’s eyes, he often characterized the Ḥanafi school as “liberal,” “anti-formalist,” and “non-literalist”; see, e. g., A spanyolországi arabok helye az iszlám fejlődése történetében, 163 – 174 (“The Spanish Arabs and Islam,” 95 – 104); “it is the Hanafite school of Eastern Islam that represents and promotes progressive evolution and liberal thinking,” he writes (ibid., 104). See also his Az iszlám, 201, 205 – 206, 371.

178

VII Between Tradition and Reform

er from another continent.⁶⁴⁴ Further studies on Goldziher’s reception in various parts and currents of the Islamic world will certainly nuance this general impression—or refute it altogether. Still, Goldziher kept himself informed about Islamic reform efforts, especially in Egypt. He was against aping the West, and his heart was with traditionalist reformers (as we have seen in several contexts within the present book). Nevertheless, even for this trend his support had its limits. The self-perception of Muhammad Abduh’s modernist movement as representing the “true” sunna, their conservative attitude to ijmā‛, and Abduh’s Quran-hermeneutics and “reading in” were all criticized by Goldziher as quasi-fundamentalism (“Kultur-Wahhabismus”).⁶⁴⁵ In a popular lecture delivered in Vienna in 1916, Goldziher himself entered the fray of Islamic reform, apropos Abduh’s movement in Egypt. The lecture (which is of polemical-apologetical character) counters the notion that Islamic law and jurisdiction (sharia) is incorrigibly fossilized and incapable of development.⁶⁴⁶ The discourse lends historical support for Abduh’s ideas about reconfiguring Islamic law in three interrelated issues: the separation of civil and political law or local custom (‘urf, adat) from religious law; the continued capability of qualified scholars for independent legal reasoning (in matters where tradition is equivocal) (ijtihad); and the consideration for and prioritization of public interests (or the welfare of society; istiṣlāḥ/maṣlaḥa) over existing norms in religious legislation and practice.⁶⁴⁷ His argumentation gives a central role to elev-

 This distinction between Goldziher’s Jewish and Islamic audiences is partly meant to nuance the religious, reformist, even (allegedly) quasi-messianic aspect of Goldziher’s scholarship, discussed by Olender (The Languages of Paradise, 131– 134), and Moshfegh against R. Simon’s and L. Conrad’s emphasis on Goldziher’s increasingly professionalist attitudes toward Judaism and Islam (Moshfegh, Ignaz Goldziher, 269, 315 – 317, 349 – 356). As I pointed out above (in Ch. IV), critical historicization by scholarship was a crucial but in itself insufficient condition for religious progress, let alone for reaching the prophetic-monotheistic telos of history in Goldziher’s eyes (cf. ibid., 307; 289, n. 77).  Goldziher, Die Richtungen der islamische Koranauslegung, 321, 335 – 336, 338 – 340, 348, 365; for an insightful analysis, see Moshfegh, Ignaz Goldziher, and the Rise of Islamwissenschaft, 276 – 284. A succinct characterization of this movement along the same lines is offered already in Goldziher, “A koránmagyarázás különféle irányairól,” 1089 – 1090.  For an earlier discussion of the same topic in a similar key, see Goldziher, Az iszlám, 427– 438.  “Das muslimische Recht und seine Stellung in der Gegenwart,” and its abridged version: “Modernistische Strömungen im Islam.” For the distinction of civil-political vs. religious law, see his Az iszlám, 434– 437; for independent legal reasoning, see ibid., 425 – 426; for the “welfare of the society” or “public interest,” see Goldziher, “A muhammedán jogtudomány eredetéről,” 394; “Abulvalid,” 277; “Das Princip des istiṣḥâb in der muhammedanischen Gesetzwissen-

Reform à la Goldziher in Islam and Judaism

179

enth-century al-Ghazali, whom Goldziher calls “the unquestionably greatest authority of orthodox Islamic theology” and “a great Church Father of Islam,” and who (similar to authorities of the generally most stringent Hanbalite School of jurisprudence) maintains the relevance of ijtihad without historical time limits, as well as relativizes the civil and political branches of Islamic law, emphasizing their historical contingency and their conventional and hypothetical nature.⁶⁴⁸ On a comparative note, Jewish reformers of all generations in modernity (among them Leopold Löw) were eager to pick up and “weaponize” halakhic concepts or principles from the history of rabbinic jurisdiction in order to justify lenient opinions or decisions and to bolster and legitimize contemporary reforms in general. In a similar vein, in the above-mentioned lecture, Goldziher puts the concept of the priority of the public interest over the “letter of law” in Islamic law on a par with the Talmudic notion of tiqqun olam (“repairing the society/ world”)⁶⁴⁹—a notion that played a prominent role in Reform Judaism⁶⁵⁰ and later in other Jewish progressive movements. Furthermore, reform trends in Islam that Goldziher viewed as inorganic aberrations and imitations of the “West” sometimes reminded him of comparable Jewish efforts. In one instance in the diary he scorned Christian influence on both. Upon visiting the Dār al-‘ulūm, the modernist teacher’s training institute in Cairo (modelled after the French École Normale Supérieure) in 1896, he remarked: “I was astonished by a new subject in the curriculum: ‘el dijāne,’ catechetical religious instruction, entirely in the spirit of progressive Jews [Fort-

schaft,” 229 – 230; Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 233 – 234; Cohen, “Testimonial Compulsion in Jewish Law,” 735.  Goldziher, “Das muslimische Recht und seine Stellung in der Gegenwart,” 5 – 6; cf. idem, Streitschrift des Ġazālī gegen die Baṭinijja Sekte, 55, 87– 88, 103, 106 – 107.  Goldziher, “Das muslimische Recht und seine Stellung in der Gegenwart,” 7. The rabbinic parallel of tiqqun olam was also mentioned previously by Goldziher in his “Das Princip des istiṣḥâb in der muhammedanischen Gesetzwissenschaft,” 229, n. 4, and his “Islam,” 657.  Ancient rabbinic enactments aiming to “repair the society/world,” overriding earlier (sometimes Biblical) halakhic norms, served as important precedents for advocates of Jewish Reform in the first half of the nineteenth century. In the Hungarian realm, see, e. g., Chorin, Igereth Elassaph, 86; idem, Der treue Bothe, Hebrew part, 59 – 66; Löw, “Die Reform des rabbinischen Ritus auf rabbinischem Standpunkte,” 20. The much-cited prosbul-enactment (mSheviit 10.3 – 4, mGittin 4.3; see Ancselovits, “The Prosbul – A Legal Fiction?”) of Hillel (who died in the early first century C.E.) was chronologically probably the first among these rabbinic enactments recorded in rabbinic literature. Thirty-five years before his mentioned lecture, Goldziher referred to this enactment as a Jewish parallel to adjustments in the Islamic laws on land leasing as an example of Islamic law’s ability to accommodate to changing historical circumstances: Az iszlám, 431– 434.

180

VII Between Tradition and Reform

schrittsjuden]. The same viewpoint, the same goals—and, I am afraid, the same results” (T 199).⁶⁵¹ Goldziher concludes another work of his, on the attitude of Islamic “orthodoxy” toward ancient (“secular”) sciences, published in the same year, with the following sentence: “Contemporary Islamic orthodoxy in its modern development offers no opposition to the ancient sciences, nor does it see an antithesis between itself and them.”⁶⁵² Goldziher’s cautiously optimistic assessments such as these (see another quotation below) of Islam’s adaptability and its potential for modernization rested on his historical reconstruction of the emergence of a renewed, open-minded and moderate Islamic “orthodoxy” in the tenth to eleventh centuries, as opposed to an “old Islamic orthodoxy,” which was hostile to sciences, philosophy, and mysticism. In light of subsequent scholarship, this reconstruction seems to be hardly tenable. It was shown to be unhistorical, simplified, and conceived with an anti-Hanbalist bias.⁶⁵³ Moreover, the very notion of “Islamic orthodoxy” (old and new) was found to be doctrinally elusive and undefinable (particularly in numerous and substantial non-legal matters), and its guarantors or representatives sociologically unidentifiable.⁶⁵⁴ Goldziher himself was aware of the problematic nature of the term “orthodoxy” in the Islamic context; nevertheless he used it throughout his writings.⁶⁵⁵ Ideological assumptions and tilts behind Goldziher’s mentioned theory (about an old and a new orthodoxy with fundamentally different attitudes to sciences and theology) were twofold. Firstly, his views about the emergence of the second, “progressive” orthodoxy (and his assessment of contemporary Islamic  On the background of Goldziher’s rejection of catechisms, see above, Ch. IV, “On Biblical Scholarship,” and below in this chapter, “Applied Theology.”  Goldziher, Stellung der alten islamischen Orthodoxie zu den antiken Wissenschaften, 42; Gutas, Greek Thought, Arabic Culture, 167. The quotation is an improved version of Swartz’s translation of Goldziher’s study: “The Attitude of the Old Islamic Orthodoxy toward the Ancient Sciences,” 209; cf. Gutas, ibid., n. 24.  See the critique of Goldziher’s views, and of his study cited in the previous footnote, in particular: Makdisi, “Hanbalist Islam,” 219 – 220, 223 – 226, 243 – 245; see also Gutas, Greek Thought, Arabic Culture, 166 – 175; Brentjes, “Orthodoxy,” Ancient Sciences, 3, 19, 47. On the Western perception of the (alleged) hostile attitude of Islam toward sciences and philosophy, and Renan’s role in the formation of that perception, see ibid., 39 – 48.  Makdisi, “Hanbalist Islam,” 251– 256, 264; see also Gutas, Greek Thought, Arabic Culture, 166 – 169; see Wilson, “The Failure of Nomenclature,” opposing the use of this terminology; and Saleh, Modern Trends in Islamic Theological Discourse, 46 – 61, arguing for maintaining it despite its problems.  For Goldziher’s problems with the term, see his Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 162– 163. The term is frequently used in the same work, as well as in his earlier and later works.

Reform à la Goldziher in Islam and Judaism

181

orthodoxy) reflected his liberal outlook and hopes.⁶⁵⁶ Secondly, while he was not the first to utilize the notion of “orthodoxy” in the Islamic context, his use of the term brought to this discussion a specifically Jewish ideological baggage.⁶⁵⁷ The question in scholarship of whether there is an “Islamic orthodoxy” in theological matters or not was preceded by the question of whether there is an “orthodoxy” in Judaism or not⁶⁵⁸ (this issue was an offshoot and extension of the controversy, since the Jewish Enlightenment, over the existence of Jewish “dogmas”). For European observers of Islam it was only natural to analyze Islam with concepts taken from the history of Christianity such as the interconnected notions of heresy, sects, dogma, and orthodoxy.⁶⁵⁹ The mere use of these concepts enhanced (probably unwillingly) the status of non-legal, theological elements of Islamic doctrines in readers’ eyes. In the context of the nineteenth-century “confessionalization” of Western and Central European Judaism, the notion of “orthodoxy” gained an intensity which it never had before. Jewish platforms, including contemporary Jewish “Orthodoxy,” were under pressure to crystallize their theological positions on some issues, in order to complement and support their halakhic methodologies. The term “orthodox” itself was coined and adopted by Jews and non-Jews in the first half of the nineteenth century to denote Jewish groups and platforms with a traditionalist-conservative outlook. The emergence of Jewish “Orthodoxy” and “Reform” (in Hungary: “Neology”) and these appellations defined and mirrored each other. Much criticism, similar to those voiced by Goldziher’s critics mentioned above, was leveled against the term Jewish “Orthodoxy,” from both the conservative and the progressive Jewish camps.⁶⁶⁰ The attitude toward secular sciences and theological matters (especially in education) was one of the main points of contention between the various movements and platforms; it was a litmus test for their approach to modernity. As part of his progressive religious vision, Goldziher regarded “scientific theolo-

 Simon, Goldziher Ignác, 233.  Makdisi (“Hanbalist Islam,” 254– 255) opines that contemporary Catholicism was the main inspiration for Goldziher’s notion of Islamic “orthodoxy.”  It seems that with due caution the term “orthodoxy,” or some substitute of it, can be meaningfully used in both contexts as a relational and sociological term. That is, while there is no “orthodoxy” and no “dogmas” in the strict (Christian ecclesiastic) sense of these terms, there is some elusive traditionalist “mainstream” with a historically changing spectrum of views, which in any given period by itself virtually defines the non-standard, “heterodox” views that are outside it—views that are beyond the pale for most authorities representing this “mainstream.”  See, e. g., von Kremer, Geschichte der herrschenden Ideen des Islams, 10, and passim.  Wohlgemuth, “Etwas über die Termini ‘Orthodoxes und gesetzestreues Judentum’”; Turán, “Ortodox, neológ,” esp. 21– 24.

182

VII Between Tradition and Reform

gy” as a universal antidote to religious legalism and formalism. Thus, it was natural for him to scrutinize historical Islam, as he did with Judaism earlier and in parallel, with general concepts of “scientific theology” as he understood it, such as “orthodoxy,” “dogmatism,” etc. and their conceptual opposites. His liberal values as well as the struggles about Jewish Reform reverberate in Goldziher’s use of the term “orthodoxy,” and play a part in explaining Goldziher’s frequent pejorative use of this term (mostly with regard to “old” orthodoxy) with the epithets “rigid,” “fanatical,” or “dogmatic,” in his works.⁶⁶¹ In the 1916 lecture and in his Die Richtungen der islamische Koranauslegung, both published towards the end of his life, Goldziher expressed his views concerning Islamic reform more concretely than he ever did concerning Jewish reform.⁶⁶² Decades earlier he already highlighted the “political” role of, and potential inherent in, the principle of “consensus” (ijmā‛) and characterized it as a stabilizing and at the same time progressive force, a counterweight to conservatives (or conservative reformers) who defended the sunna against existing practices.⁶⁶³ Later he pinned his hopes on a renewable ijmā‛ in his Vorlesungen by saying: Clearly, this principle [ijmā‛] provides Islam with a potential freedom of movement and a capacity for evolution. It furnishes a desirable corrective against the tyranny of the dead letter and of personal authority. It has proven itself, at least in the past, to be an outstanding factor in the adaptability of Islam. One wonders what its consistent application may bring in the future.⁶⁶⁴

As we have seen above,⁶⁶⁵ back in the 1870s Goldziher sounded pessimistic about chances of Islamic “reform,” at least in the short term. From Goldziher’s work we learn that the historical course of “adaptations” and changes in the “consensus” (ijmā‛) can be relatively slow and take generations to come to fruition.⁶⁶⁶ Nevertheless, he continued to envisage a “new ijmā‛”⁶⁶⁷ generated by

 See, e. g., A spanyolországi arabok helye az iszlám fejlődése történetében, 153, 160, 192 (“The Spanish Arabs and Islam,” 15, 93, 28).  The World War, and Turkey being part of the Central Powers, may have played a role in this.  Muh. St. II, 85 – 87, 98 – 100 (= Muslim Studies II, 87– 88, 97– 99).  Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 52.  See the quotation from the “Jelentés a M. T. Akadémia könyvtára számára Keletről hozott könyvekről,” above, on p. 176.  Ibid., 232– 233; Goldziher, “Az egyiptomi iszlám,” 742, 744; Goldziher, “Kämpfe um die Stellung des Ḥadīṯ im Islam,” 871– 872.

Reform à la Goldziher in Islam and Judaism

183

the application of scientific historical-critical methods to tradition. From a hindsight, these were pious wishes of a scholar who was one of the main developers of such methods, and who probably came to realize from his experiences and studies that assembling a reform theology or ideology, and gaining the support of a critical mass of believers for it, are two different processes. The best minds of Islam or Judaism can proffer to their respective audiences a brilliant reform proposal, individually or synodically; however, its potential for acceptance and becoming consensual (even slowly and on a limited scale) is anyone’s guess. With a lack of institutionalized ways in Islam and Judaism to figure out, represent or establish the commonly accepted fundamental beliefs and practices of the “community” (or its religious elite), whatever that means, in the present, the formation or transformation of a consensus transcends the reformers’ efforts and is beyond anyone’s control. In any case, it seems that Goldziher did not find a progressive movement, either in Islam or Judaism, with which he could sympathize wholeheartedly—a movement which remained firmly rooted in “tradition” (whatever this term meant for him), had an appeal to large masses, and was not “dogmatic” or voluntaristic. Religious “reforms” pose a complicated web of problems for both the theologian and the historian, and a few additional remarks on organic, “consensual” change and reforms, liberal or reactionary—specifically in modern Judaism, apropos Goldziher—are necessary here. Firstly, contours of consensus (like contours of a “Zeitgeist” or a “Volksgeist”) are elusive and can be established or reconstructed only retrospectively, if at all, for past periods.⁶⁶⁸ Goldziher pointed out this clearly in connection with ijmā‛. Thus, reform efforts have little to do with “consensus”—at least in the Islamic context and the more technical-legal meaning of the term.⁶⁶⁹ Furthermore, although Goldziher had no palate for a juste milieu or Vermittlungstheologie (mediating theology)⁶⁷⁰ in Judaism, like Frankel’s “Positive-Histor Goldziher uses the term only loosely identifying with it, in his critical presentation of Abduh’s movement in Egypt, Die Richtungen der islamische Koranauslegung, 334– 335; cf. his citation from Sayyid Ahmad Khan, ibid., 318.  Note also Goldziher’s caveat: “[…] at least in the past […],” in the citation above.  “Katholische Tendenz und Partikularismus im Islam,” 310, 312. Still, the elusive notion of “tradition” or “traditionalism” also presupposes a kind of “consensus” in a wider and less technical sense. “Consensus” features also in a different, synchronic sense in the context of Jewish progressivism, where Goldziher identifies “articulating the educated Jewish common sentiment” as a major task of Jewish scholarship; see above, p. 173.  A “mediation” effort between two entities may aim at (or lead to) very different outcomes: unity, hierarchy, harmonious symmetry, or simple compromise. Here I use the term in a generic

184

VII Between Tradition and Reform

ical” Judaism, it was this latter movement that most directly confronted questions inherent in Goldziher’s “traditionalist” aims and presuppositions: what are the possible roles of “scholarship” in mediating between antagonized platforms? Can “scholarship” qualify as a “source of law”? Is it capable of representing and informing religious vox populi, and facilitating some sort of a new “consensus”?⁶⁷¹ The “common sense of the community” and ijmā‛ were powerful and sufficiently flexible (quasi-ecclesiological and quasi-pneumatological) notions for Goldziher to conceptualize Islam’s and Judaism’s potential for further evolution.⁶⁷² However, the historicization of these and the other systemic notions mentioned in his lecture in Vienna is in itself insufficient to facilitate and justify their continued or renewed application. The effects and counter-effects of such resuscitations and their impact on the possible formation of “new consensuses” are unpredictable. Resuscitations of “liberal traditions” (or principles) in the name of “historical criticism” are liable to come close to inventing those “traditions”; religious reforms, whether lenient or stringent, operating with select historical pieces of traditions or precedents, can break historical continuity and— similar to interpretive strategies of their Orthodox adversaries—come close to fundamentally uncritical and ahistorical repristination. Such dangers and derailments are inherent in these processes due to their unavoidable selectivity, arbitrary leaps in the historical continuum, and transferences of historical context. Sociological considerations, religious “politics” and partisan dynamics— matters in which Goldziher was fundamentally uninterested—were always significant factors in halakhic decision-making; progressive and traditionalist camps in modern Jewry were no exception. Central European Orthodoxy responded to reform with halakhic stringencies and by closing its ranks. In the context of the second day of the festivals (mentioned above) it was shown how the towering figure of Hungarian Orthodoxy, R. Moshe Sofer (often referred to as the “Hatam Sofer”) raised the halakhic status of this religious norm in the 1820s and 1830s in

sense. For the historical origins and meanings of the term Vermittlungstheologie, see Voigt, Vermittlung im Streit, esp. 4– 13. The efforts in Lutheran theology that this term denoted originally were well-known to Abraham Geiger.  For a discussion of the difficult (seemingly paradoxical) questions, analogous to the last two ones, concerning the “Historical School of Law,” see von Savigny, Vom Beruf unsrer Zeit für Gesetzgebung und Rechtswissenschaft, 12– 14 (Of the Vocation of Our Age for Legislation and Jurisprudence, 28 – 31), and Jakobs, Die Begründung der geschichtlichen Rechtswissenschaft, 31– 61.  See also Ch. V above.

Reform à la Goldziher in Islam and Judaism

185

order to counter reformist challenges.⁶⁷³ Moses Richtmann (1880 – 1972), a talented graduate of the Budapest Rabbinical Seminary and a disciple of Goldziher, was no less a vitriolic critic of the Neologs than his teacher, but from the perspective of a conservative. In an article (from 1918) on the history of halakha, he comments: Scholars of Jewish law always knew how to make concessions to life without doing damage to [its] Jewish character. The stronger the Jewish character of their environment is, the more courageous they can be. This is why great Jewish [rabbinic] authorities living among great Russian Jewish masses are much more modern, as far as concessions to life are concerned, than the Orthodox [rabbis] of Hungary and Germany. This is because religion in Russia is folk life, while in Hungary and Germany Orthodoxy it is just a party [párt].⁶⁷⁴

The merits of these observations on the differences between Eastern European and Central European Jewries are outside of the scope of this book. What is important for us here is the observation that the application of internal principles and systemic tools of Jewish law that are at the disposal of rabbis to issue lenient rulings and facilitate religious accommodation are subject to necessarily varying —halakhic or meta-halakhic—assessments of a variety of social, political, economic etc. factors.⁶⁷⁵ What sort of organic development, the formation of what sort of “consensus” or synthesis should “scholarship” strive for in such a dynamic and deeply divided environment as modern Jewry is? Looking beyond the dilemmas discussed above, Goldziher knew that developing a “reform” theology or ideology is a necessary, even if insufficient, condition for eventual change in Islam as well as in Judaism. His own “scientific” convictions and guidelines for such theologies—close to the fundamentals of liberal Protestant theology of his time—were the same for Islam and Judaism, and he laid out some aspects of his vision quite clearly in his writings. As a Hungarian Jew, he made some—albeit largely unsuccessful—progress in developing a scientific-theological “offer” to local progressive Jewry. In this context he left his im-

 Katz, “The Orthodox Defense of the Second Day of the Festivals,” 262– 264.  Richtmann, “Halacha.” The author wrote his doctoral work on “The Ethical Views of ArabJewish Neoplatonists” under the guidance of Goldziher; he was also a contributor to a jubilee volume for Goldziher on the occasion of his sixtieth birthday: Richtmann, “Arab vonatkozású tanulmányok magyar nyelven.” Richtmann belonged to the very small group of Zionists in Hungary.  The same is true for stringent or “ultraorthodox” trends in Judaism. Already in Talmudic literature it is not uncommon that stringent rabbinic rulings for specific local Jewish populations are justified by the lax observances and insufficient learning of that local population; see, e.g, bHullin 110a, bShabbat 139a.

186

VII Between Tradition and Reform

print on the entire progressive Jewish educational system in his country, faithful to his “reform” ideas. As for Islamic reform, he had to confine himself to the role of a scholarly observer and expositor.

Timely Jewish Theology (Abraham Geiger) Goldziher was influenced by Abraham Geiger as a scholar of Islam,⁶⁷⁶ but the latter’s impact as a role model—a Jewish theologian and reformer interested in Islam—on the former was at least as important. In Hungary, Goldziher was Geiger’s closest follower and the most influential propagator of his ideas on Judaism. Their affinities are manifest not only in matters of ideology but also in temperament.⁶⁷⁷ The reader of Goldziher’s diary and Jewish writings will recognize a combativeness, sharpness, and zeal for what he considers “intellectual honesty,” similar to Geiger’s.⁶⁷⁸ Geiger’s approach to Jewish religious reform and his caution in promoting actual reforms as a rabbi should be understood, and his rhetoric of “intellectual honesty” nuanced, by his distinction between the role and standpoint of the scholar (“writer”) and that of the rabbi. Geiger used this distinction in a particular personal situation (in 1838 – 1839) in defense of his earlier literary activities, against his traditionalist opponents and before the Prussian authorities. While his reform-oriented articles (including expressions of his reformist “aspirations and proposals”) represent his free scholarly investigations and are meant to be part of the scholarly discourse—he argued—as a rabbi he respects existing norms and religious feelings of simple traditionalist members of the community.⁶⁷⁹ Such seemingly bifurcated steps and pronouncements of Geiger raised

 On Geiger’s influence on Goldziher in the study of Islam, and its limits, see Fraisse, “From Geiger to Goldziher,” and Heschel, “Abraham Geiger and the Emergence of Jewish Philoislamism.”  There are also some biographical similarities between them; for example, their respective relationships to the Budapest and the Breslau rabbinical seminaries. Samuel Poznanski recognized Goldziher’s affinity for Geiger, and so he dedicated his edited volume of Geiger’s Hebrew writings to Goldziher.  For a typical example of Geiger’s polemical style and stance toward contemporary Judaism, see his “Heuchelei”; cf. T 84, e. g.  Geiger, “Die zwei verschiedenen Betrachtungsweisen”; idem, “Die letzten zwei Jahre,” 16 – 18. Geiger wrote these articles when he applied for a rabbinic position in Breslau and in the early stages of the Tiktin-Affair. In the second article he illustrates the mentioned duality by the Talmudic category of halakhic rulings or norms which seem to be correct yet are not issued as public rulings (bBava kamma 30b and parallels). Geiger also declares in the article that

Timely Jewish Theology (Abraham Geiger)

187

doubts, at least in traditionalist circles, about his character and intellectual honesty.⁶⁸⁰ On the associated problem of the relation between faith/religion and reason/ science, however, Geiger had a different take. This was more of a historical-theoretical issue for him than the acute communal-personal quandary about the rabbi-scholar divide.⁶⁸¹ He did not acknowledge a religion-science dichotomy as a problem that he needed to solve,⁶⁸² but in history he found the struggle between “rationalism” and “supranaturalism” (he adopted the designations of the two main Protestant theological platforms battling each other in Germany from the 1820s) an almost universal phenomenon.⁶⁸³ In Judaism this tension started to take shape with Abraham Ibn Ezra and developed into a full-fledged antagonism only in Maimonides’ times. Prior to that, only ascetic mystics such as Baḥya ibn Paquda, to whom Geiger devotes much space in his essay (published in 1835), found a way to harmonize these two competing trends.⁶⁸⁴ I assume (without any evidence) that Goldziher also found Geiger’s essay to be stimulating; we will return to these issues in Chapter IX. After his early disappointments, Goldziher retired from public discussions on Judaism, but he continued to cultivate Geiger’s legacy—mostly indirectly. In one of his letters to A. S. Yahuda, Goldziher refers to Geiger in the following way⁶⁸⁵: “Geiger did not want to reform Judaism, he never used that expression; his platform was that of historical development. You know that he was opposed to Holdheimian Reform. I myself, as I am sure many others, got an idea of the essence and task of Judaism first from his teachings.”

in his personal religious conduct as well as in his rabbinic practice he followed, and will follow, “the esteemed codices [die in Ansehen stehende Codices] [of Jewish law].” Cf. Appendix IV.  Kaatz, Abraham Geiger’s religiöser Charakter, esp. 5 – 6, 8, 23, 30 – 40.  Perhaps he was convinced that old-school traditionalism will be conquered by historical evolution and general culture, sooner than later. Cf. Geiger, “Die wissenschaftliche Ausbildung des Judenthums,” 326.  In this, Geiger seemingly followed Schleiermacher’s lead: Brämer, “Abraham Geiger,” 214.  Geiger, “Die wissenschaftliche Ausbildung des Judenthums,” 34– 35.  Ibid., 21– 22, 38, 152– 157, 308 – 309.  “Geiger wollte das Judentum nicht reformieren, den Ausdruck hat er nie gebraucht; er stand auf dem Standpunkte historischen Entwicklung. Sie wissen, daß er der Holdheim’schen Reform abgeneigt war. Ich selbst wie gewiß viele andere haben vom Wesen und der Aufgabe der Judentums erst aus seiner Lehre einen Begriff erhalten.” Postcard to Abraham Shalom Yahuda, Budapest, August 22, 1913. Arc Ms Var Yah 38, National Library of Israel. The passage of the letter preceding this one is cited on p. 163 above.

188

VII Between Tradition and Reform

Goldziher’s terminological observation is not well-founded,⁶⁸⁶ yet the distinction made in this passage between promoting—non-Holdheimian—“reform” and relying on “historical development” is noteworthy—it certainly sheds some light on the author’s own position. Geiger was opposed to parts of the radical Reform approach and agenda, but it should be noted that he, like most Reform rabbis, saw himself as an active agent of “historical development” (more than a mere herald of Zeitgeist and “progress”) with a wider mandate than that claimed by rabbis belonging to “Positive-Historical” Judaism.⁶⁸⁷ Goldziher rejected not only Holdheim’s reform ideas, which were more radical than Geiger’s, but also questioned Reform attitudes and platforms in general —and himself avoided using the term “reform” in the Jewish context.⁶⁸⁸ As noted above, for him, Jewish “reforms” were justified mostly by accommodative interests and immanent, religious—and in that sense, “dogmatic”—arguments, instead of striving to arrive at a broader and deeper, morally and “scientifically” based consensus. He seems to have preferred (probably more than Geiger himself) to let “historical development” run its course (facilitated mainly through education) rather than allow convening synods to implement reforms by fiat. “Historical development” should decide through some unspecified and noninstitutional but ultimately bottom-up manner the fate of more substantial religious norms. On this issue, and on the related issue of Jewish collective will as the ultimate arbiter of religious change, Goldziher’s “traditionalism”⁶⁸⁹ seems to be closer to Frankel’s approach than to Geiger’s.⁶⁹⁰ Nonetheless, Goldziher iden-

 In fact, Geiger uses the noun “Reform” (of Judaism or the Jewish religion, its practices, etc.), if not the verb, frequently; see, for example, the title of “Nothwendigkeit und Maass einer Reform des jüdischen Gottesdienstes”; and: “[Brief] an M. A. Stern,” 167, 169; “[Brief] an L. R. Bischoffsheim”; [L. Geiger], “Einleitung,” 121. Reform-minded Jews were fond of discovering historical precedents for, and predecessors of, “Reform” in Jewish history and literature. This is how R. Tam became the “father of Talmud-based Reform” for Leopold Löw, for example; see Turan, “Leopold Löw,” 64*. Goldziher himself calls al-Ghazali a “Reformer,” as mentioned above; see also Conrad, “The Pilgrim from Pest,” 141– 142.  At a given historical juncture (in 1842, in the Tiktin-Affair) Geiger made some sympathetic statements about Z. Frankel, and even used the term “Positive-Historical Judaism” [positive, geschichtliche Judenthum]; see his “Ansprache an meine Gemeinde,” 69, 97– 98.  He scrupulously avoids the term in his A zsidóság lényege as well as in his Tradition und Dogma. Instead, with a cautiously chosen—rather awkward—formulation, he praises Geiger for having enabled us “to inaugurate the transience of religious developments as a religious imperative into our religious consciousness” (A zsidóság lényege, 119).  Goldziher, Tradition und Dogma, 9, 12.  This is so even if from the late 1840s Frankel apparently shifted from the romantic notion of “popular will” toward an enhanced recognition of scholars’ role in inducing religious change— cf. Harris, How Do We Know This?, 196 – 197.

Timely Jewish Theology (Abraham Geiger)

189

tified not with Frankel but with Geiger, due to other decisive issues such as the latter’s openness to the science (and philosophy) of religion, and particularly his sharp and self-assured demarcation between form and essence, living and dead traditions in religion.⁶⁹¹ From his teenage years, Goldziher consistently kept his distance from radical reform as it was introduced in Germany,⁶⁹² not least because it was sectarian in his eyes. Similarly, he was also opposed (from his childhood) to the Orthodox-Neolog schism in Hungary,⁶⁹³ and he repeatedly called Neologs a “sect.”⁶⁹⁴ His anti-secessionist stance was most likely reinforced by Geiger’s similar attitude, especially in the latter’s later years.⁶⁹⁵ Distinguishing between “living” and “dead” traditions and institutions in Judaism (these organic metaphors were central to evolutionary historicism and to the “Historical School of Law”) and to “revive, restore and regenerate” the Bible—these were always the primary functions of Oral Law, according to Geiger,⁶⁹⁶ and to Goldziher, in his footsteps, these remain the main tasks of modern Jewish theology.⁶⁹⁷ What runs counter to scholarship and science is “dead,” for faith cannot contradict reason. Truth is one—and in Goldziher’s eyes Geiger was its “prophet.”⁶⁹⁸ He rec-

 Beyond a single passing reference to Frankel in the Diary (T 21), I am not aware of any reference to him in Goldziher’s published works.  “Külföldi levelek.” In this letter from Berlin (dated February 1, 1869), Goldziher reports that the “ultraprogressive” party of Geiger’s followers has won the election, and that part of this party (including Steinthal, Steinschneider, and Lazarus) is characterized by “unbridled criticism.”  T 22; “Székesfehérvárott, 1869. Szeptemberben.” “The schism is our end (Das Schisma ist unser Unntergang[!])”—“Herrn Rabbiner’s Löw neueste Leistung,” 349. I found no substantial external evidence for Goldziher’s authorship of the latter article, and I rely only on Heller’s Bibliographie (19, no. 14). The article is signed by the pen name “z-r,” apparently standing for the last letters of his first and last name (cf. his similar pen names, e. g.: “[Review of:] Comes Géza Kuun […]” [‐zr.‐]; “[Review of:] Archiv für Religionswissenschaft” [‐zr‐]). The style is reminiscent of the precocious and irreverent tone of his early polemical articles, and its content generally corresponds to Goldziher’s ideas.  T 222– 223 (September 24 and November 3, 1899); 225 (February 4, 1900); 267 (July 2, 1910).  See already his “[Brief] an M. A. Stern,” 169. On Geiger’s secessionist pronouncements in different periods and situations, see Kaatz, Abraham Geiger’s religiöser Charakter, 21, 23, 53 – 54.  See, e. g., Geiger, “Der Kampf christlicher Theologen gegen die bürgerliche Gleichstellung der Juden,” 349.  See the excerpts published by Scheiber from Goldziher’s letter to I. Löw (Scheiber, “Goldziher Ignác levelei”) and esp. his letter from 1914 cited below. Cf. also: Goldziher, A zsidóság lényege, 120 – 123 (referring to an article by Geiger from 1839); “Bibliai tudomány,” 150; Tradition und Dogma.  A zsidóság lényege, 33, 111– 112, 119 – 122. Goldziher did not call Geiger a prophet, but he called him “our church father”: Scheiber, “Goldziher Ignác levelei” (the letter is from 1887).

190

VII Between Tradition and Reform

ommended reading fragments from Geiger’s diary and his correspondence for “those who want to rise to the peaks of our religious thought.”⁶⁹⁹ Goldziher’s “The Essence and Evolution of Judaism” essentially follows Geiger’s scheme (if not entirely his interpretation) of Jewish history.⁷⁰⁰ The difference is that in focusing on what was (to his mind) the single most important “progressive” moment of every major historical period, Goldziher was more selective than Geiger in his lectures. In these popular lectures he referred to Geiger and quoted him several times,⁷⁰¹ but in doing so he was careful enough not to outrage the more conservative members of his audience.⁷⁰² Remarkably, on a flyleaf of his copy of the first volume of Geiger’s Nachgelassene Schriften,⁷⁰³ Goldziher selects (in handwriting) three passages from this book, which could not be quoted in his own published writings. As Goldziher’s introductory words show (before two of the three excerpts), his purpose in extracting them was to record that Geiger had crystallized these ideas, so central to his thinking, already in the mid-1830s. In the first passage, Geiger calls for Judaism and Jewish theologians

 A zsidóság lényege, 128, n. 38. On Geiger’s influence on Goldziher in Jewish affairs, see Conrad, “The Pilgrim from Pest,” 123 – 129; on Geiger’s influence on Goldziher’s Islamic studies, see T 123; cf. Fraisse, “From Geiger to Goldziher.” Without mentioning Geiger, a methodological credo similar to the one presented in his diary (ibid.) can be found in his Az iszlám, 203. Literature on Goldziher asserts that Goldziher studied with Geiger (in Berlin in 1868/69): Conrad, “The Dervish’s Disciple,” 237; Niewöhner, “Der Gefangene von Budapest,” 132; van Ess, “Goldziher as a Contemporary of Islamic Reform,” 42, n. 32. (Conrad later revised his view: “The Pilgrim from Pest,” 125—a fact van Ess failed to notice). This unsubstantiated statement may have been based on a misunderstanding of what A. S. Yahuda writes in “Die Bedeutung der Goldziherschen Bibliothek,” 587. The most reliable source (as is often the case with biographical details) seems to be Heller, who mentions that Goldziher was “invited by Geiger” (apparently to his house): “Goldziher Ignác,” 20.  Geiger, “Allgemeine Einleitung in die Wissenschaft des Judenthums,” 63 – 64. Goldziher’s “Prophetism” corresponds to Geiger’s “period of revelation” (both dealing with the Biblical period); “Rabbinism” corresponds to the latter’s “period of tradition” (both referring to the Talmudic period); “the impact of philosophy” corresponds to the latter’s “period of rigid legalism (casuistry)” (both relating to medieval Judaism); and finally, the former’s “modern science of religion” corresponds to the latter’s “period of criticism.”  Especially in the last lecture (A zsidóság lényege, 120 – 123, 128, n. 38).  This general trend is attested by authorial emendations (self-censorship) in the autograph manuscript of the last lecture. E. g., Goldziher changes the wording “religion” [vallás] into “our religion” at two places; he also de-Christianizes his original wording, by substituting (1) “Jewish reformation” [zsidó reformáczió] with “the emerging Jewish movement” [a zsidóságban megindult mozgalom]; (2) “Jewish pastors” [zsidó lelkész] with “rabbis”; (3) [Divine] “Word” [ige; Logos] with “the word of God” [isten szava].  National Library of Israel, R AUT, 506.

Timely Jewish Theology (Abraham Geiger)

191

to embrace the rationalism and historicism of Schleiermacher and Hegel.⁷⁰⁴ In the second, he presents his positive view of Pharisaism, which strives “to let the letters of the Bible say what the times say.”⁷⁰⁵ Finally, in the third passage, he takes the gradual formation and development of the Pentateuch as a proven literary-historical fact.⁷⁰⁶ Whoever is familiar with Goldziher’s published writings (including his diaries) not only knows that he fully subscribed to these views, but also that they became cornerstones of his Jewish agenda. Unlike Geiger, Goldziher ultimately was not interested in publicly promoting Reform and being involved in the actual process of purging Judaism of its “dead traditions.” Concerning his published lecture “Tradition und Dogma,” he writes to Immanuel Löw in 1914: “If I had time, I would write its [the lecture’s] continuation, because I am yet to answer the question: what are the truly living traditions of Judaism? Answering this would be the only worthy subject matter of a scientific discipline, deceased for a long while, namely ‘Jewish theology’.”⁷⁰⁷ A difficult and sensitive mission indeed,⁷⁰⁸ he expected others to assume this task, as his private correspondence with Immanuel Löw, Ede Neumann, and Martin Schreiner reveals.⁷⁰⁹ The last two individuals (who were Goldziher’s disciples) took this task upon themselves in various ways: for example, by writing about Geiger’s work and praising his contributions for an audience that generally rejected Geiger as a Reformer.⁷¹⁰ Goldziher himself promoted Geiger’s legacy even within the Rabbinical Seminary in some limited ways, such as announcing the topic “Abraham Geiger’s religious-philosophical viewpoints” for a prize essay in the Rabbinical Seminary in 1906/7.⁷¹¹

 Geiger, “Nachrichten. (Wiesbaden),” 302.  Idem, “Die wissenschaftliche Ausbildung des Judenthums,” 36. Goldziher adopted Geiger’s view; cf. his A zsidóság lényege, 80 (without referring to him) and 81 (where he quotes two milder statements to the same effect from Geiger and Zunz). Besides his historical-critical approach to the formation of “canonical” religious documents in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, Geiger had an indirect influence on Goldziher’s study of Islam through this view of Pharisaism; see above, n. 419.  Geiger, “Nachrichten. (Bonn, 10. September),” 460 – 461.  Scheiber, “Goldziher Ignác levelei.”  Cf. above, p. 117.  For Löw: Scheiber, “Goldziher Ignác levelei”; I will publish Goldziher’s letters to Neumann elsewhere; for Schreiner, see his Hebrew letter to Goldziher on May 26, 1898 (GIL/38/01/041) and Turán, “Schreiner,” passim.  Neumann, “A boroszlói rabbigyülekezet”; idem, “Geiger Ábrahám.”  See his evaluation of the winning essay: Jahresbericht der Landes-Rabbinerschule in Budapest… 1906/1907, 8 – 10.

192

VII Between Tradition and Reform

It was mentioned in Chapter V that Geiger, inspired by Yehuda Halevi, was inclined to see the people of Israel as a collective holder and carrier of Revelation. Projecting this historico-theological statement onto the present and future, coupled with his self-confident prophesizing about the disappearance of “old Judaism” (as well as Catholicism) in the not too distant future,⁷¹² Geiger, and Goldziher in his footsteps, offered a rationalist replacement of Jewish traditionalist exegetical-legal hermeneutics with “scientific” historical theology. It was a reformist understanding of “continuous revelation”⁷¹³ that made such a switch possible.

Scienza Nuova (Leopold Löw) Leopold Löw’s (1811– 1875) work had a fair share in Goldziher’s intellectual formation. Goldziher’s first papers dealt with Jewish topics and were published in Löw’s Ben Chananja (as noted above)—a journal which also published papers on oriental studies and Arab-Jewish literature from the early 1860s. From the second half of the 1880s he was heavily involved with the publication of Löw’s collected writings, because he was considered by Immanuel Löw, the editor and a close friend of Goldziher, a most important disciple of his father. The Orthodox-Neolog struggles in Hungary gave early impulses to Goldziher’s studies into Islam. One of his favourite themes, from his early years, was the emergence and nature of “parties,” “schools,” and “sects” in Islam.⁷¹⁴ In this direction Leopold Löw doubtless gave him stimulus, besides Geiger. On the eve of the Jewish Congress, in 1868, Löw in his book favoring the separation of the Neologs from the Orthodox, made the following remark: “Ecclesiastical splits always proved to be salutary, beneficient, and rewarding. It is irrelevant whether the Muslim view that the excellence of a religion can be measured by the quantity of its sects is based on the recognition of this law. The law itself

 Geiger, “[Brief] an Jakob Auerbach,” 161; “[Brief] an D. Honigmann,” 179.  “Continuous revelation” is not an original Jewish notion; in ancient Judaism one finds similar ideas, but closer parallels emerged first in early nineteenth century Romantic Jewish circles —see Heinemann, Ta‘amei ha-mitzvot, II, 164– 165—and gained some currency in American Reform and Conservative Judaism. “[T]he concept of ‘continuous revelation’ seems to be implied in the positions of those who maintain a ‘maximalistic’ approach to revelation as well as those who justify changing religious laws.”—Weiss Halivni, “Reflections on Classical Jewish Hermeneutics,” 123 (idem, Revelation Restored, 87); the references there to Der Bibel’sche Orient are taken, erroneously, from Heinemann’s footnotes.  See references in n. 412 above.

Scienza Nuova (Leopold Löw)

193

is indisputable.”⁷¹⁵ The Islamic tradition to which Löw refers without citing it— that Judaism has 70, Christianity 71, and Islam 72 or 73 “sects”—was made familiar to Löw by an article of Geiger.⁷¹⁶ Goldziher could not agree less with Löw’s view, in general and in Judaism in particular. He warned against “schism” in Hungarian Jewry in 1870 (as mentioned above), and analyzed the mentioned tradition itself, concluding (first in an article published in 1874) that it is the result of misinterpretation of an older (apparently authentic) tradition.⁷¹⁷ Nevertheless, he emphasized, this misinterpretation itself reflects authentic and characteristic values of the Islamic “mind” and consensus such as anti-dogmatism and respect of independent opinions within the boundaries of “tradition.”⁷¹⁸ Löw’s reform activity and plans (unlike his ultimate religious ideals and goals) changed over time. Compared to the “pre-March” period (before 1848 – 1849), from the 1850s he became more cautious in terms of reforms that he was ready to introduce or support. As a rabbi he had to facilitate his ideals in a politically and religiously relatively conservative Jewish and non-Jewish environment. According to the oft-cited effusive (and retrospective) confession of Goldziher concerning his stay in Damascus: “I became ultimately internally convinced of being myself a Muhammadan and discerningly discovered this to be perhaps the one and only religion capable, even in its doctrinal-official formation and formulation, of satisfying philosophical minds. My ideal was thus to raise Judaism to a comparable rational level” (T 59). The purist idealism of this retrospection (whether a misleading retrojection or not), even its phraseology, resemble the young radical Löw of the “pre-March” period.⁷¹⁹

 Löw, Die jüdischen Wirren in Ungarn, 34.  Geiger, “[Review article:] Karaische Litteratur,” 93 – 94. See Turán, “Jewish Heterodoxy and Christian Denominationalism,” 360. In his cited work Löw does not mention Geiger in this context in any form, but his paraphrase of the tradition follows Geiger‘s verbatim. It is likely that Goldziher became acquainted with the mentioned Islamic tradition through the book of Löw, presumably shortly after its publication.  “Beiträge zur Literaturgeschichte der Śî‛â,” 266 – 268. On p. 267, n. 1 one finds a reference— an erroneous reference—to Geiger’s article. In “Herrn Rabbiner’s Löw neueste Leistung,” 333, Goldziher makes—unspecified—reference to Löw’s Die jüdischen Wirren in Ungarn.  Az iszlám, 422– 424.  The following remark by the poet Ferenc Kölcsey (1790 – 1838) was chosen by Löw as the motto of his annotated translation of the declarations of the Paris Sanhedrin: “The Jewish religion, refined, was probably suitable to appeal to philosophical minds too” (Löw, Zsidó valláselvek, [2]. Italics mine—T.T.). Löw did not cite the continuation of the sentence: “[A]nd Jesus, who took upon himself this refinement, with the simplicity of his religion expressed the spirit of his times.” See Turán, “Jewish Heterodoxy and Christian Denominationalism,” 366 – 367.

194

VII Between Tradition and Reform

Despite their disagreements in some theological issues,⁷²⁰ Goldziher’s later affinity for Löw’s views was evidenced in other weighty theological matters, such as their emphatic distinction between “living” and “dead” traditions (see below), and their understanding of bottom-up ways of halakhic change and “reform.”⁷²¹ Goldziher’s scholarly formation is also prefigured and influenced by Löw in crucial ways: in his interest in cultural history and folklore, in his plea for Jewish theology and, particularly, for history of Jewish religion.⁷²² Behind all these congruences one finds their shared pathos and enthusiasm for “intellectual honesty.”⁷²³ Some additional remarks are in place here about their scholarly approaches to the Bible, which were central to their reform visions. Jewish reformers of various shades in the spectrum were always divided by the methodological issue of whether they strive to justify their reform ideas “immanently,” through traditional legal and exegetical sources and methods (at least creating such an appearance) or not. Goldziher belonged to that camp which rejected this approach. His opposition to legalistic hairsplitting (Juristerei) as well as “reading in,” concerning the Bible as well as the Quran, was based on modern rationalist hermeneutics and insistence on the “plain meaning” of canonical documents—and this is why he criticized certain modernizing movements in Egypt,⁷²⁴ as mentioned. He came out sharply against exegesis and “reading in” as the traditionalist tool of harmonization (“accommodation”) also in the Jewish context.⁷²⁵ In 1855 Leopold Löw published a pioneering, concise history of Jewish Bible exegesis from its beginnings to his day.⁷²⁶ The book owes much to Geiger’s essays in the 1840s, one of which opens with the insight that the religious conscious-

 Goldziher and Löw viewed the issue of “dogma” (see below) and the Orthodox-Neolog schism differently: the former opposed both, while the latter did not. Löw’s Jüdische Dogmen is actually a response to the aforementioned article attributed to Goldziher, see n. 693.  See also Ch. IV, and the section “Prophetism …” below.  Cf. Turan, “Leopold Löw,” 51*–53*.  See, for example, Löw’s sarcastic remark in one of his book reviews: “Die eigentlich theologischen Disziplinen werden am meisten gemieden, weil die wissenschaftlich gebildete, jüngere theologische Welt die Pastoralklugheit für die wichtigste Disziplin hält,” [Löw], “[Review of:] “‫חותם תוכנית‬,” 679. Löw also uses the term “Pastoralklugheit” elsewhere (Ben Chananja 8 [1865]: 845), as does Geiger, “Heuchelei,” 288, 305. According to Löw, the avoidance of serious and honest theological thinking, “the coward juste milieu of the compromise [Transaktion]” is what characterizes “Congress-theology”; “Jüdische Dogmen,” 147– 149. For Goldziher, see above, p. 107.  Moshfegh, Ignaz Goldziher and the Rise of Islamwissenschaft, 275 – 276, 278, 280, 282, 284.  A zsidóság lényege, 108 – 110.  Löw, ‫המפתח‬. Praktische Einleitung in die heilige Schrift, 49 – 333.

Scienza Nuova (Leopold Löw)

195

ness of a given period is best expressed by (the spirit/hermeneutics of) its biblical exegesis.⁷²⁷ Besides its other merits, Löw’s book is a comprehensive demonstration of this thesis. Goldziher’s view that the harmonizing hermeneutic instinct of former times was done away with by sciences (esp. natural sciences) once and for all should be understood against this background and these literary and theological forerunners. Löw’s attitude to Bible criticism is of particular interest to us. He showed openness and support for Biblical criticism at an early stage, and it is worth to quote at length his letter to Aron Chorin (the earliest representative of Reform—of “immanent,” rabbinic Reform—in Hungary) from 1833⁷²⁸: Biblical criticism became a well-established field in modern times, and most recently many obscure points have been elucidated, apparent contradictions eliminated, and many prejudices fortunately combated. Unfortunately, we have to admit that in all these [efforts] we are miles away from our Christian brothers. We have to admit that our more recent exegetes [of the Bible] offer nothing original concerning higher criticism, and in this respect their only contribution was to give circulation among us to some views of acute German Bible scholars. Do we want now to twiddle our thumbs and to lag behind until a second Eichhorn accomplishes for Talmud-criticism what the first accomplished for higher Bible-criticism??

Löw’s words are highly interesting not only in the context of Biblical scholarship, but also on account of the innovative link that he establishes between Biblical and Talmudic criticism (whatever that meant for him).⁷²⁹ It is clear from other indications that Löw was positively attuned to the critical approach to the Bible,⁷³⁰ but he, like most other Neolog scholars open to this scholarship, recoiled from it later. It is not incidental that Löw (like Goldziher) also had an unfulfilled plan to write a biblical introduction. The Neolog indifference towards critical Bible scholarship,⁷³¹ particularly with regard to the Pentateuch and “higher” (redactional) criticism, was partly due to apprehensions of traditionalist Jewish (and Christian) attacks against liberal-critical Bible scholarship. Löw favoured historical criticism over “immanent” methodologies, and to promote historical criticism of the entire rabbinic legacy (a primary task of Jewish reformers) he initiated an entire field of Jewish scholarship which he usually  Geiger, “Die nordfranzösische Exegeten-Schule,” 1.  Löw, “Aron Chorin,” 382.  For a similar link by Geiger (in a letter from 1837) see HaCohen, Reclaiming the Hebrew Bible, 82.  In Jewish scholarly circles he was apparently the only one who wrote a positive review of Geiger’s Urschrift; see Perles, Jüdische Skizzen, 88 (cf. also 40, 80).  For Kaufmann’s aversion to Bible criticism, and his interesting correspondence with Zunz on this subject, see Thulin, Kaufmanns Nachrichtendienst, 301– 305.

196

VII Between Tradition and Reform

called either “talmudic archaeology/antiquities” (talmudische Alterthumskunde) or “history of [Jewish] religion” (Religionsgeschichte). The scholarly vision behind this nomenclature and the broad actual thematic and chronological scope of Löw’s scholarship bring his scholarly program close to Goldziher’s notion (a generation later) of Kulturgeschichte applied to Islam.⁷³²

Liberal Protestantism (Mór Ballagi) In mid-nineteenth century Hungary, some referred to Orthodox Jews as “Catholic Jews” and more accultured Jews as “Protestant Jews.”⁷³³ Profound Protestant influences on nineteenth-century German-speaking and Hungarian “progressive” Jewries are indeed unmistakable.⁷³⁴ “All modern, especially German, Jews are Protestants,” remarked Franz Rosenzweig in 1924.⁷³⁵ Encounters with Protestant theology certainly had an impact on Goldziher’s spiritual development even before he went to Germany and in addition to his exposure to foreign (mostly Protestant) scholarly literature. He was introduced to Hungarian Protestant circles by Ármin Vámbéry and to Protestant scholarship by Kármán, and above all by Mór Ballagi (1815 – 1891) (T 27, 29, 34, 45, 50 – 51, 128), the most influential liberal Protestant theologian in Hungary at that time.⁷³⁶ There is little originality in Ballagi’s theological ideas and formulations, many of which are echoed in Goldziher’s Jewish semi-popular, theological writings, but in any case Ballagi was one of the main sources of his acquaintance with Protestant theology and scholarship. In 1840 Ballagi (Bloch) became a corresponding member of the Academy— the first Jew to receive that honour. József Eötvös was Minister of Religion and Education in 1848, in revolutionary times, for half a year. He invited Ballagi (already a convert to Calvinism then; he changed his name to Ballagi that year) to

 Turan, “Leopold Löw,” 45*–53*,  Turán, “‘As the Christians Go, so Go the Jews’,” esp. 80.  See above, n. 112. Leopold Löw’s versatility in all branches of theology was attributed to his studies in Protestant theology: Löw and Kulinyi, A szegedi zsidók, 177. Goldziher’s Protestant connections (his relationship with his early mentor Mór Ballagi and his son; his teaching at the Reformed Theological Seminary [cf. Schorsch, “Beyond the Classroom,” 135– 136]; his publications in the Protestáns Szemle, etc.) would deserve a separate study. These connections were important for young Goldziher in his way “out of the ghetto.”  Rosenzweig, “Einleitung,” xxviii. His “Atheistic Theology” (written in 1914) is a penetrating critique of liberal Jewish theological currents (their rationalist psychologism and mythical ethnicism) in Germany which developed under the influence of Protestantism and Romanticism.  Márkus, A liberális szellem a református egyházban, passim.

Liberal Protestantism (Mór Ballagi)

197

be Professor or teacher of oriental languages at the University of Pest.⁷³⁷ Eötvös was not failed by his keen eye for talent; Ballagi was a worthy candidate for a position filled much later by another, even worthier candidate: Goldziher.⁷³⁸ However, history dictated otherwise and this plan never materialized; Ballagi became Professor at Calvinist Theological Seminaries, first in Kecskemét, and then (from 1855 until 1877, his retirement) in Pest. In the early 1840s Ballagi studied in Tübingen under Ferdinand Christian Baur and Heinrich Ewald.⁷³⁹ “Religion, if it deserves the name, is always the outcome of general culture, so that every age in fact has its own credo.”⁷⁴⁰ Since the mid-1840s Ballagi was a vocal supporter of the view that religion is an immanent human spiritual phenomenon, and that religious truth therefore cannot contradict scientific truth in modern times. Theology is in fact absorbed by the “science of religion.” All this of course sounds familiar to readers of Goldziher’s writings. Ballagi remained a steadfast promoter of liberal Protestant theology in Hungary—in fact he defined the “left” wing of this camp in his country. In his writings in the 1860s he popularized contemporary Protestant Biblical “higher” criticism (including insights of Baur, Strauss, De Wette),⁷⁴¹ especially that of the five books of Moses.⁷⁴² Dogmatic “Confessions”—he writes—have only relative, historical significance; they give expression of commonly shared convictions of the Church based on the current understanding of the Bible, for political purposes only, to distinguish themselves from other denominations; scholarship has the right and the obligation to pursue its investigations even if its insights contradict Confessions, in order for religious convictions to keep up with progress in other branches of culture.⁷⁴³ Ballagi wrote frequently about the human need and “instinct” for unifying-harmonizing faith and knowledge (under the command of

 Csekey, “Ballagi Mór,” 176.  At the Academy too, Goldziher was a successor of sorts of Ballagi: his election as an ordinary member of the Academy in 1892 was partly made possible by the latter’s death a year before —cf. Goldziher, “A pogány arabok költészetének hagyománya,” 531.  Both Baur (1792– 1860) and Ewald (1803 – 1875) were epoch-making scholars and Protestant theologians; Ewald was an orientalist.  Bloch, “Adalék a’ fölállítandó protestans istenészeti facultás alaprajzához,” 647.  David Friedrich Strauss (1808 – 1874) was a radical liberal Protestant theologian; Wilhelm M. L. de Wette (1780 – 1849) was a path-breaking scholar of the Hebrew Bible.  Ballagi, A Biblia, 79 – 88; idem, Bibliai tanulmányok, I, 170 – 192. Goldziher’s copies of these works, with his owner’s note (from 1871 for the first title, and from 1869 for both volumes of the second title) are preserved in the holdings of the National Library of Israel. Interestingly, these volumes are not included in the catalogue of Goldziher’s library acquired by the Library.  Idem, Tájékozás a theologia mezején, 9 – 10.

198

VII Between Tradition and Reform

the latter).⁷⁴⁴ He also touched upon other issues in which Goldziher became interested later, such as Biblical mythology and its linguistic background, or oral traditions in the Bible and among Jews and Arabs.⁷⁴⁵

Applied Theology Goldziher participated in some religious polemics in Hungarian Jewish public life, and left his mark on related specific issues. Two interrelated themes are worth mentioning here. The first is the widely debated question in modern Judaism of whether dogmas exist in Judaism. Goldziher expressed his opinion about this issue on three separate occasions, echoing Geiger’s positions once again. In the first and last instances, he argued vehemently against the existence of dogmas, while conceding their existence (in some form) during the second occasion. The apparent contradiction between these positions partly disappears when placed against their historical and polemical background. In defending the need for religious change, he argues against the existence of dogmas (that is, authoritatively expressed doctrinal truths binding the entire community, or doctrinal criteria for salvation through membership in, or adherence to, a given religious community) in Judaism.⁷⁴⁶ In accentuating his call for Jewish theology, however, he admits to the existence of fundamental doctrines and beliefs tacitly accepted by the Jewish community at large.⁷⁴⁷ It is the perpetual task of religious reflection and theology to revise and reinterpret these doctrines and ideas in order to accommodate prevailing scientific truths. While Judaism has no proper dogmas, it has a history of dogma—that is, a history of its theology.⁷⁴⁸

 Idem, A Biblia, 240; idem, Bibliai tanulmányok, I, 84.  Idem, Bibliai tanulmányok, I, 138, 177; II, 59 – 60.  “Herrn Rabbiner’s Löw neueste Leistung,” 339 – 340; Tradition und Dogma, 11– 12.  “A bibliai tudomány,” 154– 155. The reason for the lack of a strong dogmatic bent in Judaism, according to Goldziher, is its weak propensity for speculation and the lack of schismatic spirit.  Goldziher’s three publications that tackle with the issue of dogma seem to have been largely ignored in the extensive, later literature on dogma. I did not find any acknowledgment of his assumed authorship of “Herrn Rabbiner’s Löw neueste Leistung.” Leo Baeck recognized Goldziher’s unique perspective on “dogma,” though, in his reference to Goldziher’s work on ijmā‛: “Hat das überlieferte Judentum Dogmen?,” 25, n. 1. Leopold Löw refers to Zunz who criticized the Church historian A. F. Gfrörer for denying that Judaism has a history of dogma. “How could Judaism come to possess a history of dogma if it does not have any dogmas?” asks Löw rhetorically (Zur neueren Geschichte der Juden in Ungarn, 145).

Applied Theology

199

As we illustrated above, Goldziher uses the term dogma differently in the two contexts.⁷⁴⁹ When it comes to Jewish intellectual history, he generally attaches great importance to medieval Jewish “dogmatic” (i. e. philosophical) theology, and to Maimonides in particular, yet he dismisses medieval “dogmatic” efforts (in the more specific sense of the word) as “subjective” attempts—including that of Maimonides, despite the fact that his “13 principles” gained wide acceptance and liturgical sanctioning. In his earliest statement on this issue, Goldziher argues that Judaism is not built on belief, but on the practice of traditional, national (tribal/racial) virtues.⁷⁵⁰ However, in a later response to a similar view espoused by David Kaufmann, he (and Martin Schreiner) reproached Kaufmann.⁷⁵¹ As Chief Secretary of the Jewish community of Pest, Goldziher became involved in a liturgical-educational issue. His role in the evolving affair is an interesting supplement to his views on dogma. On his initiative in 1882, the Jewish community commissioned József Kiss, a respected Jewish poet and editor, to compose religious poems for synagogue songs. When the poems were finally submitted to the community after significant delay, Goldziher and Sámuel Kohn wrote an expert opinion in early 1888 criticizing many of the poems on doctrinal-dogmatic grounds for their anthropomorphic expressions and imagery, which they deemed unacceptable to “our medieval dogmatics” and incompatible with the “purified ideas” of “our Judaism in modern times.”⁷⁵² A reference to and reliance on “our medieval dogmatics” is quite unprecedented in Goldziher’s oeuvre, but even if the opinion was written by Kohn, it would be counterintuitive to assume that Goldziher subscribed to this opinion without reading it and agreeing with it. In fact this reference to “our medieval dogmatics” is corroborated by the fifth lecture of his “The Essence and Evolution of Judaism” series, held at al-

 In the latter context, the term basically means “religious-philosophical” or “religious philosophy.” This is the meaning of “dogmatic” and “dogmatics” in A zsidóság lényege, V. (esp. 97, 100 – 101) and elsewhere in contemporaneous religious literature.  “[…] nicht Glauben, sondern die Ausübung der herkömmlichen Stammestugenden und Gebräuche […]”; “Herrn Rabbiner’s Löw neueste Leistung,” 340.  Kaufmann, “A zsidó káté,” 124; Goldziher, “A bibliai tudomány,” 157; Turán, “Schreiner,” at n. 38.  The offended poet withdrew all of his poems. On the affair and the ensuing theological polemics, see Zsoldos, “Kiss József és ‘Jehova ajtónállói’” (the cited expressions appear on p. 232, where the objections are again called “dogmatic” in nature); Rosenberg, “Vallásos költészet”; and Schreiner, “A zsidó istenitiszteletről.” The entire extant Goldziher-Kiss correspondence, including others involved in this affair, has been published by Scheiber and Zsoldos as Ó mért oly későn. It is unlikely that Goldziher was enthusiastic about synagogue songs; however, he and Kiss had been friends since the 1870s and remained so after this affair, so it is possible that Goldziher wanted to help Kiss, who moved to Budapest in the same year (1882), with this contract.

200

VII Between Tradition and Reform

most exactly the same time as when the opinion was written.⁷⁵³ In this lecture Goldziher says that there is one “great principle” of medieval Jewish philosophy, “which is of absolute and not relative value, and […] rightly occupies a dogmatic status in it; and this is the purifying of the God-idea from every sensual attribute […] what is commonly called anthropomorphism.”⁷⁵⁴ If this was the singular “dogma” for Goldziher, today he would realize with dismay that it had been challenged by Jewish philosophy and scholarship alike.⁷⁵⁵ Indeed it seems that his stance on anthropomorphism as expressed in the cited opinion (Goldziher’s authorship seems almost certain) qualifies as dogmatic, beyond the fact that in subsequent research, as expected, the notions of “anthropomorphism” and “incarnationism” became much more differentiated,⁷⁵⁶ and his judgmental views on related phenomena in the history of Islam much less accepted, than they had been in his times.⁷⁵⁷

Prophetism Versus the Dead Letter For Goldziher, the Bible was the real, living foundation of Judaism for all ages. The prophets in particular were the true shepherds of Israel and shapers of its legacy. Goldziher found powerful support for these views in biblical criticism. If legal and ritualistic portions of the five books of Moses (at least parts of them) were “controlled” by prophetic teachings and postdate them, then these ritualistic portions are still secondary to the prophetic “spirit” or “values” that can (and even should) overrule them. If the Torah as a book evolved as a product of changing historical forces, and its narrative and legislation were subject to a grand scheme of historical evolution, then the norms emerging from it are also

 A summary of this lecture was published in the February 5, 1888 issue of Egyenlőség.  A zsidóság lényege, 101. Italics in the original.  The literature is vast; see, e. g., Wolfson, Through a Speculum That Shines, Index, s.v. anthropomorphism; Hamori, “When Gods Were Men.”  It is worth noting that in some of his works (like his Hungarian works and in his shorter synthesis in German), Goldziher tends to highlight ethnic elements: “Aryan”-Persian influences on Shiite messianism (and cult of saints, “fanaticism,” “confessionalism,” and authoritarianism): Az iszlám, 223; “A mahdi országából,” 700 – 701; “Die Religion des Islams,” 109, while elsewhere the ethnic element in anthropomorphistic Shiite messianism-incarnationism is less accentuated: Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 191, 194– 198, 212– 213. Cf. above, n. 483.  On anthropomorphism, see Goldziher’s Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 92– 94. Scholarship on ancient Near Eastern religions no longer presents Divine transcendence and anthropomorphism as bipolar opposites.

Prophetism Versus the Dead Letter

201

subordinate to the same historical forces and trends.⁷⁵⁸ On a personal level, Goldziher ceased to observe religious practices that he considered “dead.” In defining religious fossilization or death for his own purposes, he apparently used the universalism-test of Reform Judaism: religious norms that complicate everyday interaction between Jews and other “peoples of the Book” are dead. Goldziher was fond of employing the romantic-subjective metaphoric polarity of “living” versus “dead” traditions, and frequently deployed the (Pauline) dichotomy of the “dead letter” and the “living spirit.”⁷⁵⁹ The contrast between “tradition” and “dogma,” to which Goldziher devoted a separate essay, was a variation of the same dichotomy. His “living-dead” rhetoric was ubiquitous in Reformist discourse, but in this essay the context was somewhat different. Goldziher did not advocate here (or in his other writings) religious reforms explicitly and did not delve into specifics of what Judaism’s “dead” traditions are in his view or how to identify them.⁷⁶⁰ He was content with making religious “reforms” for himself. On the communal level, for him (as well as for Zacharias Frankel and Geiger), Pharisaic scriptural exegesis was the letter with the spirit and the key to Jewish survival in ancient times. In modernity, he considered only the Bible and especially the Prophets a living legacy, the letter with the spirit. Although he respected Talmudic learning, “Talmudism”—the extension of Pharisaic scriptural exegesis—was a “dead letter” and dry casuistry for his version of liberal, “Protestant” Judaism.

 Different conclusions could also be drawn from biblical criticism, as the example of Martin Schreiner, Goldziher’s disciple, illustrates; see Turán, “Schreiner,” at n. 60.  See, for example, A zsidóság lényege, 81– 83, 89. In the memoir-part of the Diary (T 33) he characterizes Wilhelm Bacher as a detached scholar unwilling to fight for ideals, for “truth”; he depicts him as someone who was always “interested only in the dead letter, and he rightly acquired a prominent place among its priests. The letter that is said to be murderous secured him a pleasant and comfortable life, from which not everyone is willing to be awakened.” Among Jews in Hungary, it was probably Aron Chorin who first used this dichotomy in Jewish theological discourse, in a letter to Leopold Löw from 1835: Löw, “Aron Chorin,” 387.  In his Tradition und Dogma (3) Goldziher compares “dead/living” religious traditions to “dead/living” languages. However, the “dead/living”-metaphor is precarious in this context. While it is relatively easy to determine empirically whether a language or dialect is dead or living, it is much more difficult to define what these conceptual metaphors mean in relation to specific religious practices and beliefs, and to establish criteria and procedures for applying them. The analogy between law and language, and viewing both as living (developing) organisms, can be found in von Savigny, Vom Beruf unsrer Zeit für Gesetzgebung und Rechtswissenschaft, 8 – 12 (Of the Vocation of Our Age for Legislation and Jurisprudence, 24– 27). Goldziher draws attention to the analogy set up by some medieval Islamic scholars between linguistics and jurispudence in his “A nyelvtudomány történetéről az araboknál,” 260, 276 – 279; On the History of Grammar among the Arabs, 35, 50 – 53. For modern literature on this topic, see ibid., 77, n. 112.

VIII Personal-professional Relationships: a Sample Approachable yet quite self-absorbed, interpersonal relations were most important for Goldziher. It is no accident that he bequeathed such a rich body of ego-documents. A diligent and pedantic correspondent, he kept his correspondence with every person in a separate file, which he shut down and “interred” when the person died.⁷⁶¹ His personal relationships were often complex, and part of these complexities can be aptly summarized by the old Jewish adage aharei mot qedoshim, “after [their] death they are saints”—to wit: a person is often appreciated, respected, revered or venerated by others only post-mortem.⁷⁶² In his diary Goldziher complains about this flawed emotional pattern so integral to Hungarian and Hungarian Jewish communal life.⁷⁶³ He himself was victim of such public emotional aberrations—and in his life he also provided examples of related behavioural patterns, in relation to Ármin Vámbéry, Vilmos Bacher, and— partly—to David Kaufmann.⁷⁶⁴ There were other complexities and ambiguities in his important relationships too—his friendship with Chief Rabbi Samuel Kohn, his neighbour in Holló Street 4, for example—and we will touch upon such issues below. Human relations of all kinds had a decisive impact not only on Goldziher’s quality of life but also on his professional work. In the previous chapter we discussed theologians who had formative influences on Goldziher’s thought; this chapter surveys parallel lives: his relationship with some scholars in Hungary who (with the exception of Vámbéry) are less known in Goldziherology than their importance in Goldziher’s life would require, and whose personal connections to Goldziher—teacher, mentor, colleague, friend, or disciple, and combinations thereof—were no less important than their professional connections to him.

 Klein, “Egy pár apróság Goldziherről.”  The adage plays on the names-titles of two consecutive weekly portions of the Torah (in Leviticus) which in Jewish liturgy are often read together on the same Sabbath.  Phantasizing about his own death and burial: T 145 (August 18, 1892); on Rabbi Meyer Kayserling’s death: T 243 (April 24, 1905); on Mór Kármán’s death: 286 (October 17, 1915).  As for Vámbéry, see below; for Kaufmann, see above, n. 315 for Bacher (one of the main targets of his verbal abuses in the diary) see the interview with his son, on Goldziher paying last respects to Bacher in his apartment after the latter’s death, before burial: [L.I.] “A boldogság serlege.” https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285-010

Ármin Vámbéry

203

Ármin Vámbéry There are few in the diary who attracted Goldziher’s vituperations like Vámbéry.⁷⁶⁵ The primary reason of Goldziher’s hatred towards him apparently was that Vámbéry (1832– 1913) received university professorship which Goldziher (his disciple) could only have dreamed of, and for which Vámbéry, so it seemed to Goldziher, was utterly unfit on several accounts.⁷⁶⁶ This interpretation is corroborated by Vámbéry’s mentions in the Diary. Goldziher’s final poisonous arrow was shot at Vámbéry two days after the Faculty Assembly of the University voted unanimously for Goldziher as Hatala’s successor in the professorship (T 241; March 16, 1905). We read in the diary: After more than a year I came across the limping liar in the street. He asked me when will I get finally the appointment? He! He also told some of the many evil things which fill his black liar’s soul. We parted in quite an unfriendly way, almost without adieu. Had he been present on [March] 16, there would have been no unanimity. I would have not gotten the vote of this vicious ignoramus.

Following Goldziher’s attaining full professorship, Vámbéry became irrelevant for Goldziher. After the cited entry he mentioned Vámbéry’s name in the diary only passingly, a decade later, in two neutral remarks in the context of Goldziher’s commemorative address on him (T 285, 286; August 28 and October 25, 1915). The English translation of Goldziher’s Mythos-book (published in 1877) was equipped with a dedication, by the author and the translator, that differed from the one in the original publication in German. This new one mentioned H. L. Fleischer, F. Max Müller, and Vámbéry, “the pioneers of Semitic, Aryan, and Turco-Tataric philology,” respectively. At that time Goldziher was ready to include Vámbéry in an illustrious company and undersigned his being a “philologist.” Goldziher’s initial respect towards him deteriorated as time passed. He had  See esp. T 105 – 106.  Mandler, Arminius Vambéry, 110 – 111. According to a recent, succinct account on the tensions between the two persons: “The tensions may have come from their extremely different disposition: the self-taught traveller, who changed his faith several times, published with an easy hand, thereby also opening new fields of research, was the contrary of the well-trained scholar, who deeply felt his religion, and put down every single line with great consideration and care.”—Dévényi, “Scholars in Private,” 44. No doubt these were basic elements of Goldziher’s contempt for Vámbéry, but the intensity of his contempt is better understood as stemming from the mentioned career-related ressentiment. On Goldziher’s apparent misperception and unjust accusation against Vámbéry that the latter purposely tried to hamper his career (cf. T 105; 215, April 30, 1897), see ibid., 42– 44.

204

VIII Personal-professional Relationships: a Sample

much to thank Vámbéry, and—beyond fundamental differences between Goldziher and Vámbéry (in their education, their attitude to politics, etc.)—they also had much in common. Such circumstances were known to have a good potential to exacerbate preexisting tensions—which in this case was, seemingly, Goldziher’s developing career-related rancor and resentment against him. Their common features and resemblances include (1) a holistic view of “culture” and an all-encompassing ethnographic view; (2) a penchant for experiential field work and an underlying talent and need for communication and mimicry;⁷⁶⁷ (3) their fragile social position as acculturating Jewish academics.⁷⁶⁸ These shared elements as well as their destructive potential for the relationship between the master and his erstwhile disciple are discernible in a short passage of the earliest dated letter of Vámbéry to Goldziher. At the commencement of the latter’s studies in Berlin in 1868, Vámbéry advises him “not to be overwhelmed by purely theoretical musings,” but rather to focus on “practical knowledge of the East, because the theoretician, in lack of these, is a highly ridiculous figure.”⁷⁶⁹ We do not know how Goldziher related to this advice then, but retrospectively we can safely say that he must have had mixed feelings. As for “practical knowledge of the East,” in Berlin he attended (probably unrelated to Vámbéry’s advice) and highly praised Wetzstein’s lectures on the language and customs of the Bedouins (T 37), and a few years later he began his study tour in the East. However, later he became more of a “theoretician,” and—without giving up his interest in all aspects of major living Semitic cultures—he became quite a proud representative of the type called derisively “German scholar” by Vámbéry. Goldziher, on his part, considered Vámbéry as not only a non-scholar, but also as a swindler (T 105). They necessarily became “ridiculous figures” in each other’s eyes (to different degrees), because they followed vastly different “academic” ideals and career models, largely due to their different Jewish backgrounds—and none of these fit in well with their Hungarian academic environment. Vámbéry’s propensity for taking markedly political roles (the single major feature of his career and personality that fitted the Saidian stereotype of

 We should remember, however, that in mimicking, and in matters of conversion in particular, Goldziher and Vámbéry followed quite different norms and regimes of transgression.  In his sophisticated portrait of Vámbéry, Komlós observed that he was an offended man with a life-long fight to prove himself—and whose career demonstrated the failure of Jewish assimilation rather than its success; Magyar-zsidó szellemtörténet, 192– 193, 196 – 197. This characterization fits Goldziher to no small measure.  “Lieber Nátzi, […] [i]hr Studienplan gefällt mir, nur überhäufen sich nicht zu sehr mit lauter theoretische Grübeleien, erwerben Sie dafür lieber praktische Kenntnisse des Ostens den ohne diese ist der Theoretiker eine höchst lächerliche Figur. […].” October 17, 1868; GIL/44/09/60.

Ármin Vámbéry

205

the “Western orientalist”) was an additional source of Goldziher’s contempt for him. Preparing his memorial address on Vámbéry was a “painful task” for Goldziher (T 286; October 25, 1915). We can imagine him with the question flitting across his mind, “Do I have anything good to say about him?” He did. And he paid tribute, among other things, to Vámbéry’s charisma as a teacher, manifesting itself in his “lively informality” and his relation to the subject matter of his instruction: For him these oriental things were not a mere object of teaching, a cold and stiff something meant for post-mortem; instead, they were the living reality of his own subjectivity. He did not stay outside them; he lived inside and with them; besides all criticism and impartiality, they were objects of his love and enthusiasm. He himself was not only a professor and a European politician, but still, to a large extent, a Turkish effendi and a Central Asian dervish.⁷⁷⁰

The memorial address was a well-crafted homage to the “vicious ignoramus”: a post-mortem expression of his indebtedness to Vámbéry that also gave subdued voice to mild parts of Goldziher’s criticism of him, wrapped in a comparison with Kőrösi Csoma. Further expressions of the similarities between Vámbéry’s and Goldziher’s outlooks can be found. Their “travelogues,” reflecting the above-mentioned three elements, offer kindred critical, “oriental” perspectives on Europe and European Jewry. Borrowing the fictional voice of a Tatar recording his impressions of his journeys in Europe (as well as his historical theories), Vámbéry displayed his views on the “Jewish question,” aristocracy, general culture, and other matters.⁷⁷¹ The literary device (known at least since Montesquieu’s Persian Letters) of hiding behind an alien (oriental) observer in his case grew out of mimicry as an existential device to which he resorted in various situations. “The sun rises in the East, but freedom shines up from the West.”⁷⁷² Vámbéry was a re-orientalized—and at the same time, baptized—Jew. He came from a very poor, rural Jewish background, and even after attaining world fame (and partly just because of that), he was in a precarious position in Hungarian society as

 Goldziher, “Vámbéry Ármin tiszt. tag emlékezete,” 556.  Vámbéry, “Egy tatár emlékirataiból.” This piece, published by the author’s son (Rusztem Vámbéry), consists of select chapters of a larger manuscript written by the author allegedly in the early 1880s, the time of the emergence of more organized antisemitism in Hungary. The entire manuscript (its current location, if survived, is unknown) was never published, for unknown reasons.  Ibid., 14.

206

VIII Personal-professional Relationships: a Sample

concurrently both a sort of pariah and parvenu. He had more articulate and socially more progressive views (we can not even summarize them here) than Goldziher. Vámbéry presented Jewish emancipation as an unfinished and unbalanced transaction out of weakness between Christian societies and Jewish assimilationists, with both sides characterized by what we would call “identity deficits.” It was the shattered Christian faith and growing ethnic diversity of Western societies that prepared the ground for their emancipation offer for Jews. Despite the emancipation and progressing assimilation of Jews, these societies did not give up their prejudices toward them, which remained a major source for some negative connotations of “Jews” and the friction that they experienced within society. However, Vámbéry argues that continued non-Jewish prejudices are only an excuse for “faithful Jews” (hithű zsidóság) (who “follow strictly the tight spirit of the Asian mind” and who remind him of faithful Muslims) for their continued existence, but not for the “sect of so-called reformed or liberal Jews.” The latter group, contrary to the former, consists of only nominal Jews, has an intrinsically incoherent worldview, and clings to its ancestral tribe mostly out of the inertia of habit.⁷⁷³ Vámbéry’s traditionalist kind of criticism of “Reform” Judaism seems to have been a catalyst or an accessory for his cultural criticism of the West in general. His oriental man (Tatar) is appalled by Western splits and disharmonies between materialism and intellect, between intellectual sophistication and moral-emotional under-development.⁷⁷⁴ This revulsion was akin to Goldziher’s animosity towards most progressive Jewish groups or movements as inauthentic. Traditionalist Judaism, manifesting relative merits of the East, was the lesser evil for both, it seems; progressive (if assimilated, not sufficiently assimilated) Jewry manifested the relative flaws of the West.

Mór Kármán Mór Kármán (1843 – 1915), a disciple of Leopold Löw and another protégé of Minister Eötvös, was a towering figure of Hungarian pedagogy: a modernizer of highschool education and teacher’s training.⁷⁷⁵ Löw wanted Kármán to be a rabbi—  Ibid., 2– 8.  Ibid., 16 – 22.  Waldapfel, “Moritz Kármán, Leopold Löw’s Schüler und Liebling.” On his accomplishments and disappointment in his last years, see Geréb, “Kármán Mór, az ember és a pedagógus,” 92– 102; see also Marczali, Emlékeim, 58 – 62, 64– 70.

Mór Kármán

207

this did not happen. Kármán was disappointed by Jewish community affairs (e. g., he opposed the establishment of the nationwide centralized organization of the Neologs).⁷⁷⁶ On the positive side, in the euphoric post-1867 (post-Compromise) years, he was attracted by the Minister’s honourable offer to him to study pedagogy and teacher’s training in Germany, as preparation for his future role in reforming education in Hungary.⁷⁷⁷ Kármán did not like socializing,⁷⁷⁸ but was a charismatic teacher and a peripatetic interlocutor. Writing was a burden to him (except in the last decade of his life)⁷⁷⁹; he only dreamed of writing his ethics.⁷⁸⁰ The original (German) edition of Goldziher’s Mythos-book was dedicated to him with the warmest possible terms. In his diary Goldziher calls him a “genius” (T 42), a “holy man” (T 202; Oct. 1, 1896), and a “martyr” (T 286; Oct. 17, 1915). No other person is decorated in the diary with such a set of attributes. The friendly affection between them is attested by Goldziher’s other writings and Kármán’s letters to him.⁷⁸¹ In a long passage of the Diary (T 42– 44), Goldziher acknowledged Kármán’s formative impact on his worldview and scholarly development, specifying, among other things, the latter’s moral earnestness, astonishing versatility in humanities, harmonious worldview, and outlook on life—and instilling in him the need for a “harmonious worldview.” He also registered Kármán’s crucial stimuli on his studies on the prehistory of religion, comparative mythology, and the literary history of the Bible.⁷⁸² Not only the diary attests Goldziher’s extraordinary appreciation of Kármán. In an homage article (from 1897) he dates their acquintance to 1867 (in the diary, to 1868—T 42) and credits Kármán with (1) teaching him not to lose sight of broader contexts of philological minutiae; (2) introducing him to psychological methods in analyzing the history of ideas and their impact; and (3) his early, real-time familiarity with critical biblical scholarship of Vatke, Reuss, Kuenen, and Graf.⁷⁸³

 Heller, “Kármán Mór,” 254– 255, 273; Goldziher (T 43) gives a different reason for Kármán’s lack of interest in the rabbinate—which does not contradict the one cited by Heller.  On Kármán’s student years see Geréb, “Kármán Mór, az ember és a pedagógus,” 88 – 91.  See his letter to Goldziher on August 25, 1912 (GIL 20/19/28).  GIL 20/19/31.  GIL 20/19/28. Such a volume was edited and published posthumously by one of his sons: Kármán, Kármán Mór Ethikája.  In a letter from August 5, 1895 (GIL 20/19/31) Kármán pleaded with Goldziher to utilize his vacation “to soothe your nerves” too. Kármán himself suffered from serious mental or nervous disorders from 1897 (cf. T 217; July 12, 1897), until late 1902 or early 1903.  See Heller’s interesting summary of Kármán’s views on the development of religion (partly based on his own lecture notes of Kármán’s university lectures): “Kármán Mór,” 268 – 270.  Goldziher, “Keleti séták.” Only (2) is a novel element compared to the diary passage.

208

VIII Personal-professional Relationships: a Sample

Goldziher often asked his friend to help him out with his extraordinary knowledge of ancient Greek and Roman philosophy and literature; Kármán answered these inquiries with utmost dedication and precision.⁷⁸⁴ Goldziher could have extended the credits he gave to Kármán for shaping his intellectual outlook to some additional important areas of his worldview: Judaism, patriotism, and educational philosophy.⁷⁸⁵ Goldziher’s religious outlook was infused with Kármán’s universalist prophetic ethicism, based on a developmental view of Jewish (and Biblical) religion. As for education, in the 1870s Goldziher was a frequent contributor to the pedagogical journal edited by Kármán and Gusztáv Heinrich. Goldziher’s and Kármán’s articles there (the latter’s mostly related to high-school education) display encompassing interests and an emphasis on cultural history, the inductive method, and developmental elements, in teaching humanities.⁷⁸⁶ It seems that both Goldziher’s and Kármán’s studies in classical languages, Hebrew, and general linguistics had a definitive role in developing their pedagogical views—as well as their historicist outlook. Both studied Greek and Latin in secondary schools of Christian (Catholic) orders. They highly appreciated their alma maters, as did numerous Jewish boys and girls who studied in such schools.⁷⁸⁷ Their shared background and similar positive and negative impressions from studying ancient languages are likely to have been formative to their educational views, which were similar. Kármán’s influence on Goldziher was surely significant in this terrain too, given the former’s seniority in matters of pedagogy, and the relation between the two. Kármán’s pedagogical views were also instrumental in making Goldziher familiar with the notion of “apperception,” which played a central role in the latter’s views on the development of religions. Kármán elaborates on this psychological notion (which had its root in the thought of Leibniz, and reached him through Herbart and Steinthal) in his pedagogical works. In one of his articles

 GIL 20/19/5, 7, 9, 21, 22, 23, 25, 29; these letters were written between 1907 and 1913.  On Kármán’s influence on Goldziher in these areas, see also Chapters III and IX.  See esp. Goldziher, “[Review of:] Die Sprachwissenschaft. W. D. Whitney’s Vorlesungen” (with explicit reference to Kármán on 604); “A mythologia tanításáról,” esp. 456 – 458 (with reference, probably, to Kármán on 458). From Kármán’s early articles, see esp. “Az új gymnasiumi tantervjavaslat.”  As a rule, Jewish students in these schools (as opposed to state and town secondary schools) did not feel religious discrimination: Geréb, “Kármán Mór, az ember és a pedagógus,” 89.

Mór Kármán

209

he also explicated this idea in the context of pedagogical psychology, without using the term.⁷⁸⁸ From the 1880s Kármán was the most influential Jewish intellectual who supported the idea of establishing a Jewish high school in Pest—a controversial idea for a long time which became a reality only in 1919.⁷⁸⁹ Goldziher opposed this plan for a period of time; this was among the few weightier issues where the two friends disagreed.⁷⁹⁰ After Leopold Löw’s death (1875) Kármán was a main source of inspiration for left-wing Neologs.⁷⁹¹ Kármán never softened (like Goldziher) his philosophically grounded Hungarian nationalism. He developed his own sublime formula, with a missionizing touch typical of nineteenth-century Jewish liberals, for maintaining a balance between Jewish particularism and serving Hungarian national interests (confining it to cultural and ethical interests)—and, through them, humanity. In his view, Jewish curricula should focus on “classic periods” of Jewish “religious sentiments,” because “the faith animating them is our true tradition.”⁷⁹² Judaism’s relationship to other religions should also be taught, without apologetics or polemics; but the emphasis should be what unites “us” with them and not what divides us from them.⁷⁹³ Defending Immanuel Löw in the polemics about a prayerbook edited by the latter (see below), Kármán writes: Not infrequently, whenever I wish to flee from the limp atmosphere in which our pastors [papjaink] take hold of Jewish religious sentiment and strangle it on the pulpit and in literature, I turn to devout works of some profound enlightened Christian theologians. And amidst the moral crisis of our age, not only do I find them edifying, but I also derive empowering strength from them. Tell me please, what fault can be found in that, dogmatic dif-

 Kármán, “A hitoktatás elvei és rendszere,” 280.  Moskovits, Jewish Education in Hungary (1848 – 1948), 110 – 115. Kármán was convinced that only Jews “standing on a firm denominational basis” can serve national (Hungarian) cultural interests; Heller, “Intézetünk múltja,” 2.  I have no information on Goldziher’s considerations, but by 1902 he dropped his opposition to the idea; however, he proposed (together with József Bánóczi) this high school to be based on the lower division of the Rabbinical Seminary; ibid., 3; Moskovits, Jewish Education in Hungary (1848 – 1948), 192– 193.  This was an unorganized group, represented in the elite of Hungarian progressive Jewry by not more than a few rabbis in every generation. Their thinking, from Löw to Goldziher and beyond, was characterized by an emphasis on the Bible (prophecy and ethics), considering Talmudic-rabbinic tradition mainly of historical and antiquarian interest.  Kármán, “A hitoktatás elvei és rendszere,” 281.  Ibid., 282. The latter attitude was typical of left-wing Neology.

210

VIII Personal-professional Relationships: a Sample

ferences notwithstanding, I feel at one with my Christian brethren [felebarát] in religious devotion and moral consciousness?⁷⁹⁴

Such a blurring of boundaries between Judaism and Christianity, even in devotional and non-dogmatic matters, was hardly tolerable for mainstream Neologs, at least for rabbis and religious functionaries.

Immanuel Löw While Kármán was a master-cum-friend for Goldziher,⁷⁹⁵ Immanuel Löw (1854– 1944) became a close friend for him, as well as a comrade in scholarship and a confidant in Hungarian Neolog affairs. Löw was a “fellow student” who studied in Berlin and Leipzig partly under the same professors as Goldziher years before. He studied at the Hochschule für die Wissenschaft des Judentums from 1872 (with Geiger, Steinthal, and Lazarus among his teachers), received his rabbinic ordination there in 1878, and earned a doctorate at Leipzig University (in 1878 or 1881) under the guidance of H. L. Fleischer,⁷⁹⁶ who was Goldziher’s Doktorvater too. His life-work was informed—not unlike Goldziher’s—by the double spell of philology and folklore. He inherited the latter interest from his father, Leopold Löw. Widely regarded as one of the greatest Semitic philologists of his times, Immanuel Löw (1854– 1944) served as the (Neolog) rabbi of Szeged from 1878 until his death, filling the position which he also “inherited” from his father.⁷⁹⁷ He was invited to prestigious rabbinic posts in Berlin, Stockholm, Vienna, and London; he was offered professorship at the Rabbinical Seminaries of Budapest and Breslau, and at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. He declined all these offers.⁷⁹⁸ Löw was a dedicated rabbi whose rabbinic duties and output (from preaching to composing epitaphs and participating in the interior design of a new local synagogue) and scholarly work built a harmonious whole. Still, scholarship was his priority and he kept a distance from Neolog politics, institutions, and internal debates. Löw was involved with the Israelite Hungarian Literary Society, which

 Kármán, [“Levél a szerkesztőséghez”].  From Kármán’s perspective, Goldziher was a student-cum-friend—talmid haver or haver vetalmid is the Talmudic term for this type of intermediate or evolving relationship.  On Fleischer’s role as a final reader and corrector in “fine washing” (Feinwascherei) of publications of his disciples, see Löw’s letters to Goldziher, GIL/26/09/090 and 177.  Hidvégi, “Löw Immánuel élete,” esp. 15 – 21, 80 – 81.  Ibid., 32– 33. For the invitation to Vienna, Löw’s comments on it and his reasons to refuse it, see his letters to Goldziher from December 8 and 30, 1902, GIL/26/09/085,086.

Immanuel Löw

211

Goldziher shunned; Goldziher was involved with the Rabbinical Seminary, which Löw shunned—in their correspondence they commented on these affiliations and teased each other.⁷⁹⁹ In terms of religious ideology Löw was more liberal than the Neolog mainstream (at least until the 1920s) but he did not initiate or promote changes in halakha or religious practice. Responding to Goldziher’s complaints (presumably concerning the insincerity or shallowness of Neolog religiosity and “reforms”), Löw defended Neologs: “Religious renewal requires a different Zeitgeist from ours,” he wrote in a letter to Goldziher in 1888.⁸⁰⁰ He reiterated the same position to Goldziher in another letter written almost two years later (see Appendix IV): for Jewish reform “a generation is needed that is much more believing than contemporary Jewry.” Goldziher apparently criticised a convention of some Neolog rabbis for declaring their loyalty to the halakhic tradition and the Shulchan Arukh. Löw took up the gauntlet and put Goldziher in his place in the same letter by reminding him that in these issues he (Goldziher) is only an onlooker, an idealist kibitzer. The cited two letters of Löw to Goldziher were written in the critical period of the latter’s moving away from his limited, active involvement in Neolog affairs, when Goldziher still had some hopes and stakes in Neolog progress. Due to his scholarly prestige, he was still part of the Neolog scholarly elite; an idealist kibitzer, he was never part of the Neolog religious elite. As a rabbi Löw was considered a prominent member of the latter group— which, however, itself was divided along religious and ideological issues, and he kept a distance from this elite. Even when toward the end of 1888 his Hungarian prayer-book (with occasional prayers, intended mostly for women, published in 1883) was attacked in the Magyar Zsidó Szemle, he did not bother to argue and defend himself.⁸⁰¹

 For the Literary Society, see T 160 (June 20, 1893), 162 (Aug. 3, 1893), 166 (December 11, 1893), 169 (January 14, 1894), and esp. T 171 (March 13, 1894); and Löw’s letter to Goldziher, GIL/26/09/039. See also n. 801 below. For the Rabbinical Seminary, see Löw’s letters to Goldziher, GIL/26/09/053, 056, 061.  January 5, 1888 (GIL/26/09/013). For a fuller citation, see Hidvégi, “Immánuel Löw’s Reflections on ‘The Essence and Evolution of Judaism’,” 78.  Nevertheless, he expected others (among them Goldziher and Kármán) to fight for him; see his letters to Goldziher, GIL/26/09/010, 020, 021, 022, and concerning Kármán, see above. A good part of the prayer-book was adapted from Protestant prayerbooks, from Geiger’s prayerbook, and other sources. This incident was one of factors that spoiled Goldziher’s relationship with Bacher (T 106) and József Bánóczi (the two editors of Magyar Zsidó Szemle at that time), and it was the main reason for Goldziher’s withdrawal from planning the Israelite Hungarian Literary Society that he initiated in 1884 (see in the Introduction, “On Goldziherology”); see Bánóczi’s friendly

212

VIII Personal-professional Relationships: a Sample

Goldziher’s turn from Jewish studies (and Neolog dealings) are also clearly documented in other parts of their correspondence from the late 1880s. In editing his father’s Gesammelte Schriften, Löw’s principal advisor and proofreader was Goldziher.⁸⁰² In their correspondence Löw reminded him several times that when the plan for such an edition first emerged in 1876, Goldziher promised full assistance to such a project.⁸⁰³ He kept his promise, but when Löw urged him to write a general introduction to this work on Leopold Löw,⁸⁰⁴ Goldziher refused. Nevertheless, Immanuel Löw dedicated the fourth volume of his father’s collected works to Goldziher.⁸⁰⁵ Goldziher also turned down another invitation of Löw. The latter asked him to contribute to a memorial volume (a collective monograph) on Geiger, of which Löw was to be a co-author.⁸⁰⁶ More specifically, he offered him to write a general appreciation of Abraham Geiger and his scholarship on theology, linguistics, and historiography, as an introduction to the volume, “because in great Germany we do not know anyone who could be trusted with this task. Geiger became plusquamperfectum there very quickly.”⁸⁰⁷ Löw approached him with the same request repeatedly in the next three years—to no avail.⁸⁰⁸ A letter of Löw reveals the interesting information that after Goldziher started teaching religious philosophy at the Rabbinical Seminary of Budapest in 1900, for a while he entertained the idea of composing a book on systematic religious philosophy. Löw encouraged him.⁸⁰⁹

response to Goldziher, GIL/02/24/03 (November 8, 1888). In 1895 Löw published a second edition of the prayerbook with little changes contentwise, but—accepting one of the criticisms—he provided source references to the prayers.  There are at least 25 letters from I. Löw to Goldziher touching on the Gesammelte Schriften and the latter’s engagement with it; the first is from January 24, 1888 (GIL/26/09/012), and the last is from February 13, 1900 (GIL/26/09/055).  Goldziher’s original Hebrew phrase for offering his help was taken from Gen. 34:12 (‫הרבו‬ ‫)עלי‬.  Löw to Goldziher, August 6 and 13, 1897 (GIL/26/09/057, 058).  “Ignaz Goldziher, dem treuen Förderer seiner [Löw’s—T.T.] Arbeit zugeeignet vom Herausgeber,” Löw, Gesammelte Schriften, IV. In fact Goldziher seldom refers to Löw in his Jewish writings.  L. Geiger, hrsg., Abraham Geiger. Leben und Lebenswerk.  Löw to Goldziher, November 27, 1905 (GIL/26/09/121).  Löw to Goldziher, GIL/26/09/121, 129, 143. In one of the letters (March 11, 1908; GIL/26/09/ 140) Löw tried to exert some moral pressure too: “Geiger wrote about you with such a respect already 35 – 36 years ago, that even if he would not deserve this for any other reason, which is not the case, you cannot deny this request.” The printing of the book was the last time that Löw touched upon this issue: February 6, 1910 (GIL/26/09/145).  Löw to Goldziher, January 15, 1902 (GIL/26/09/069).

Martin Schreiner

213

Similar to Kármán, Löw showed much concern about Goldziher’s physical and mental health. The letters attest some of Goldziher’s fixed ideas concerning Hungarian Jewish scholars’ views on his Jewish scholarship,⁸¹⁰ and (from 1898) his occasional melancholy and depression,⁸¹¹ which Löw tried to soothe. He advised Goldziher concerning insomnia,⁸¹² and constantly urged him to work less and rest more.⁸¹³ He strengthened Goldziher’s self-respect with friendly tactfulness.⁸¹⁴

Martin Schreiner Martin Schreiner (1863 – 1926), a graduate of the Budapest Rabbinical Seminary, was the one among Goldziher’s disciples who followed his teacher most closely in his combined interest in medieval Islam and Judaism and their relations. He was Goldziher’s only student from Hungary who made a successful (albeit tragically short) career in Islamic studies abroad. Neither Goldziher nor other progressive Jews in Hungary produced any work on what can be called “systematic religious philosophy” or “systematic Jewish religious philosophy.” It was Schreiner who came closest to composing such a work.⁸¹⁵ His work, however—tentatively titled Outlines of a Jewish Religious Philosophy (Grundzüge einer jüdischen Religionsphilosophie)—remained a torso.⁸¹⁶ In matters of theology and education (e. g., that Judaism’s overarching, “essential” or “ruling” ideas should be in their focus) Schreiner was profoundly influenced by Goldziher. These convictions of Schreiner, as well as his use of the concept of “apperception,” were derived from ethnopsychology,⁸¹⁷ and it was

 Goldziher thought there was a “guild” in Budapest which regarded him incompetent in Jewish matters; see Löw’s letters to Goldziher, January 5, 1888 (GIL/26/09/013) and September 22, 1905 (GIL/26/09/119).  See Löw’s letters to Goldziher, June 3, 1898 (GIL/26/09/049); December 13, 1908 (GIL/26/09/ 139); December 16, 1912 (GIL/26/09/162); 1917 (GIL/26/09/190); February 15, 1918 (GIL/26/09/202).  Löw to Goldziher, March 8, 1913 (GIL/26/09/177).  There are nine such letters; the earliest is dated April 11, 1888 (GIL/26/09/018) and the latest is dated June 20, 1910 (GIL/26/09/174).  Löw to Goldziher, August 31, 1905 (GIL/26/09/104), July 6, 1908 (GIL/26/09/141), March 18, 1910 (GIL/26/09/172) (cf. T 264– 265), December 16, 1918 (GIL/26/09/203). Löw’s remarks occasionally seem excessive: January 24, 1888 (GIL/26/09/012), March 11, 1914 (GIL/26/09/158).  In his letters to Goldziher Schreiner refers to this work usually simply as “religious philosophy”; see, e. g., his letter from 1896 (GIL/38/01/054).  Turan, “Martin Schreiner,” esp. 55 – 61.  Ibid., 59.

214

VIII Personal-professional Relationships: a Sample

obviously Goldziher who introduced Schreiner to this field and to these notions. It was his master Goldziher who encouraged Schreiner to work “on a comprehensive history of Muʿtazilah.” ⁸¹⁸ Schreiner was an outstanding and loyal disciple, who shared his master’s pathos for “truth” and academic scholarship, and convictions about the role these deserve in education.⁸¹⁹ His—somewhat idiosyncratic—idea to turn the synopsis of his work on religious philosophy into a curriculum of high-school students should be understood against this background. Nevertheless, their relationship was not without frictions. Goldziher often asked his students (and friends) to provide him references, copy parts of manuscripts and similar “academic” favours;⁸²⁰ in one instance at least, while already in Berlin, Schreiner refused to give such an assistance to his master.⁸²¹ In careerand work-related things Schreiner was quite self-assertive; there were tensions between the two in such issues.⁸²² As for loftier matters, concerning the role of religious practice and observance, Schreiner was more conservative than Goldziher and vigorously contested his mentor’s positions.⁸²³ After his ordination (1887), Schreiner served as a rabbi in small Neolog communities in the countryside for a few years. He was unsuited for the rabbinate, and was happy to return to Budapest and join the faculty of the Jewish Teacher’s College there in 1891. From there he was invited to a professorship at the Hochschule (called Lehranstalt in some periods) für die Wissenschaft des Judentums in Berlin in 1893. Goldziher’s support and influence was instrumental in attaining all these positions (and applying for others), as documented by numerous letters  Schreiner’s letter to Goldziher: July 22, 1887 (GIL/38/01/121).  Schreiner’s letters to Goldziher: November 29, 1889 (GIL/38/01/106); June 30, 1890 (GIL/38/ 01/096); July 27, 1890 (GIL/38/01/094).  Schreiner’s letter to Goldziher: November 1, 1895 (GIL/38/01/152). A similar request or suggestion of Goldziher to Schreiner, partly to his own benefit, was to task students at the Hochschule in Berlin with preparing an index to the Jewish periodical Jüdische Zeitschrift für Wissenschaft und Leben (1862– 1874) edited by Abraham Geiger: Schreiner’s letter to Goldziher: May 26, 1898 (GIL/38/01/041).  Schreiner’s letter to Goldziher: December 19, 1897 (GIL/38/01/046).  Concerning efforts to find employment for Schreiner at the Jewish Teacher’s College, for instance, Schreiner was not satisfied with the progress made by his mentors and reproached Goldziher too; see his letters to Goldziher: September 8, 1890 (GIL/38/01/086); February 5, 1891 (GIL/ 38/01/138). For money-related discords between them, see September 18, 1893 (GIL/38/01/067); October 7, 1895 (GIL/38/01/056).  Turan, “Martin Schreiner,” 69 – 71, 74– 75. See Schreiner’s letters to Goldziher: February 7, 1894 (GIL/38/01/090); December 21, 1894 (GIL/38/01/065). In other letters to Goldziher Schreiner criticized Orthodox Judaism and the conservative ideology represented by the Breslau Rabbinical Seminary too: November 27, 1898 (GIL/38/01/042); August 8, 1898 (GIL/38/01/040).

Bernát Munkácsi and Ignác Kúnos

215

written by Schreiner and others to Goldziher. In 1902 Schreiner became mentally ill, and spent the rest of his life in a mental hospital (sanatorium) in Lankwitz, near Berlin. Schreiner, as well as other talented disciples of Goldziher, are barely mentioned in the Diary. Schreiner’s tragic fate is not mentioned in the diary either, but it appears frequently in Goldziher’s correspondences. The letters to him clearly show that Goldziher was much concerned and tried to help him and the family in various ways.⁸²⁴

Bernát Munkácsi and Ignác Kúnos Similar to Schreiner, Bernát Munkácsi (1860 – 1937) and Ignác Kúnos (1860 – 1945) were also students of Goldziher—albeit their main teachers and mentors were Vámbéry and the linguist József Budenz. Munkácsi and Kúnos, both Jews, were good friends and colleagues and both became accomplished orientalists in Hungary. Their scholarly fields and approaches, taken together, well represented Hungarian orientalism in their generation, and complemented each other. Goldziher supported them in various ways—and yet his academic and personal relationship with them was highly ambiguous. The features shared by Munkácsi and Kúnos make them a worthy addition to the gallery presented in this chapter and make it appropriate to discuss the two scholars together. The biographies of the two have further parallels and intersections. Both studied in denominational high schools.⁸²⁵ In their professional careers, Munkácsi focused on Finno-Ugric linguistics and Kúnos on Turkish literary folklore; however, linguistic and ethnographic sensitivity and competence were combined in the life work of both (this combination was a legacy of Hungarian orientalist scholarship, inherited also by Vámbéry and Goldziher.) They started field work together, in 1880, among the Csangos (a Hungarian ethnic group that speaks an old Hungarian dialect and lives in regions that are part of modern-day Roma-

 See, for example, Adolf Büchler’s letter to Goldziher, June 10, 1902 (GIL/06/19/15), and Bertalan Kohlbach’s letter to Goldziher, May 20, 1908 (GIL/21/31/02). It should be noted that Schreiner was a bachelor, and Goldziher was also involved in—futile—efforts to find a match for him in Germany; see Schreiner’s letter to Goldziher: February 28, 1900 (GIL/38/01/127). This is the most likely context of a passage in this letter which I have misinterpreted (Turan, “Martin Schreiner,” 76)—I thank Dr. Dóra Zsom (Eötvös Loránd University) for drawing my attention to the mistake.  Munkácsi in the high-school of the Premontrean order in Nagyvárad (Oradea), and Kúnos in the Calvinist (“Reformed”) College of Debrecen.

216

VIII Personal-professional Relationships: a Sample

nia).⁸²⁶ In their later field work in more remote areas and cultures, they had to resort to religious incognito and mimicry.⁸²⁷ Their position in Hungarian academia showed the difficulties that local Jewish orientalists had to face in the generation following Goldziher’s. None of the two converted to another faith, and neither of them attained university professorship, but both of them were members of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences. Kúnos directed the Oriental Commercial Academy and taught Turkish philology at the University of Budapest beginning in 1890, but later (in 1902) received only an appointment as an honorary non-ordinary professor.⁸²⁸ He became a corresponding member of the Academy in 1893. Munkácsi was elected as a corresponding member of the Academy in 1890 and an ordinary member 20 years later, but never received a university appointment. Besides Ignác Hirschler⁸²⁹ and Goldziher, he became the third member of the Academy to fill a high-ranking position in the Neolog Jewish community. Munkácsi and Kúnos became the founding editors of the periodical Keleti Szemle (Oriental Review) in 1900.⁸³⁰ Here are Goldziher’s relevant comments in his Diary: Sirs Kúnos and Munkácsi have got a well-sounding subvention from the Ministry for launching an “Orientalist Journal” [Orientalische Zeitschrift]. Then the first among these two literati brought his plans with him, requesting me to accept the honor of appearing as a [permanent] contributor on the title page. An Orientalist Journal for the foreign audience, under the direction of the above-mentioned gentlemen, is being launched here, planned and carried out without my knowing. This is clear enough to justify my firmest decision that I relinquish the honor of appearing on the title page. There is some profiteering behind this of course. In the meantime my name resonates still too well abroad to use it on a shabby banknote printing plate. There was a time when Sirs Katz and Munk (this is how these

 Kúnos, “A csángók földjén Munkácsival.”  In his expeditions in Russia Munkácsi presented himself as a Calvinist; see Kozmács, The Life of Bernát Munkácsi, 132– 133; Kozmács, ed., Megvalósult gyermekálom, 129. The exposition of his religious views there shows Goldziher’s influence. Kúnos writes to Goldziher in 1885 from Constantinople (Istanbul): “Many think that I am a Dönmeh; others think that I am a candidate to be a true believer [Muslim]. For the first, ‘el hamdūlillah,’ for the second, ‘insallah’ is my reassuring and evasive answer.” (GIL/23/11/01; in Hungarian). On the “Dönmeh,” see n. 839.  For international experts’ opinions on Kúnos’s scholarship, see Teszler, “Kúnos Ignácz pályafutása,” 16 – 18.  Hirschler was an ophthalmologist; he became a corresponding member of the Academy in 1869. He was president of the Neolog Jewish community between 1861 and 1863, and president of the Hungarian Jewish Congress in 1868 – 1869.  On this journal, see Ch. II.

Bernát Munkácsi and Ignác Kúnos

217

gentlemen were still called 10 years ago)⁸³¹ confided their plans to me more quickly. Then they came to me begging. (T 225; Jan. 25, 1900).

Goldziher was offended for not having been involved in the planning of the Keleti Szemle from the beginning. It is unclear what Goldziher had in mind by mentioning the “begging” of Munkácsi and Kúnos, but we may find a clue in an undated letter of Vámbéry in which he asked Goldziher to help Munkácsi and Kúnos, his (Vámbéry’s) disciples, receive stipends from the Jewish community for which they applied.⁸³² This journal was an offshoot of the Hungarian Ethnographic Society, where Munkácsi served as Vice President between 1892 and 1908. He, together with Goldziher, played a key role in reforming the Society in 1892.⁸³³ Goldziher and Munkácsi had a more lasting and formal professional relationship within the Pest (Neolog) Jewish Community. At the time of Goldziher’s writing the entry in his diary cited above, Munkácsi had already been inspector of religious education of the Pest Neolog community for 10 years. Goldziher was aware of Munkácsi’s difficulties in making a livelihood and he himself invited Munkácsi to fill this position, which the latter accepted after some hesitation.⁸³⁴ Curriculum development was also among Munkácsi’s responsibilities. Eventually, he retired from this position after 40 years of hard work, during which he was guided by Goldziher’s religious and pedagogical vision.⁸³⁵ Nevertheless, in a bitter entry of the diary (T 201; March 2, 1896) Goldziher accuses Munkácsi of ingratitude and calls him a “perfidious rebel” for his alleged collaboration with the community leadership in humiliating him (Goldziher) in an unspecified issue. In actuality, Munkácsi seems to have always been loyal to his teacher and men-

 Goldziher errs; the original family name of Kúnos was Lustig.  Cf. Dévényi, “Scholars in Private: On the Correspondence of Goldziher and Vámbéry,” 40, n. 23. The letter was written presumably in the second half of the 1880s when both Munkácsi and Kúnos needed (and received) financial help for their field trips. The original letter (“Kedves Náczikám! Légy szíves tégy valamit Munkácsi [Munk] és Kunos [Lustig] tanitványaim ügyében, a kik az izr. ösztöndijért folyamodtak és most tőled várjuk megboldogitásukat. szerető hived Vámbéry”) (GIL/44/09/66) was published by Dévényi, “Levelek, napló, emlékbeszéd: adalékok Goldziher Ignác és Vámbéry Ármin kapcsolatához,” 105, n. 25.  On Goldziher’s role, see the introductory part of Ch. VI. Munkácsi and Goldziher both were members of the four-member subcommittee tasked with formulating a “vision” for the society and its journal Ethnographia.  Munkácsi, “Pályám kezdete,” 18 – 19. On his contradictory character traits yet harmonious personality, see the characterization of his friend Kúnos, “Munkácsi Bernát 70 éves születése napja alkalmából,” 67.  Munkácsi, “Pályám kezdete,” 64, nn. *, **.

218

VIII Personal-professional Relationships: a Sample

tor,⁸³⁶ which of course does not exclude the possibility of occasional disagreements about professional or other matters. Kúnos, who spent five years in the Near East (based in Constantinople/Istanbul, 1885 – 1890) became a founder of the study of Turkish folk literature and dialectology. Hans Stumme, Professor of Arabic and Hamito-Semitic languages at Leipzig University (elected an external member of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences in 1915), learnt Hungarian, partly at least, in order to read Kúnos’s works published in that language.⁸³⁷ Unlike in the case of Munkácsi, who may or may not have been a recipient of a community scholarship, we know that Kúnos did repeatedly receive stipends from the Neolog Jewish community of Pest. Although Goldziher played a central role in securing these scholarships for Kúnos (as attested by the latter’s letters to Goldziher and an article written by him),⁸³⁸ he was not always satisfied with Kúnos’s work. Kúnos was mostly interested in folklore and ethnography, and it seems that in return for the community scholarships, Goldziher (and maybe other leaders of the community too) expected him to do some fieldwork among oriental Jewish communities and “sects” in regions that he travelled to in the Balkans, Turkey, and Crimea, and write some articles on his findings and experiences. Kúnos sought Goldziher’s advice concerning the desirable format and style of his articles, and indeed wrote some pieces, primarily on Karaites and the Dönmeh ⁸³⁹ in Istanbul and Saloniki, as standalone articles or included

 Munkácsi’s loyalty to Goldziher is manifest in his numerous writings and letters. For instance, he wrote on a greeting card on the eve of the Jewish New Year of 5679: “I think of you with gratitude today too. Not only that you taught me scholarship, but you also gave direction to my outlook, and played an active role in ensuring my livelihood” (September 6, 1918; GIL/ 30/08/21).  Stumme wrote to Goldziher (in Hungarian): “Do not be surprised, my dear Sir, that I write these lines in your language! I was heavily occupied with your nice language: for my Turkish studies I must read and understand Kúnos’s works which is impossible without knowing Hungarian” (January 25, 1905; GIL/42/16/63). On Stumme and Goldziher’s connections with him, see my “Goldziher and Jewish Scholarship in Light of His Correspondences with Immanuel Löw and Michael Guttmann” (forthcoming), n. 48.  The Goldziher bequest includes 23 letters written by Kúnos to Goldziher. From the 16 letters written between 1885 and 1888, 12 deal also with Kúnos’s stipends and other financial matters, According to Kúnos (“Munkácsi Bernát 70 éves születése napja alkalmából,” 66) Wahrmann, the president of the Neolog Community of Pest, said: “I do not begrudge him those 300 forints, albeit I am almost sure that if this Kúnos gets on in life, he will also turn his back on his faith.”  A sect of outwardly Muslim crypto-Jews in the Ottoman Empire, descendants of Sabbatian converts to Islam in the seventeenth century. Dönmeh means “apostate” in Turkish; the sect called itself ma’minim, “believers.”

Bernát Munkácsi and Ignác Kúnos

219

them in his letters. Goldziher published some excerpts from these letters,⁸⁴⁰ but was dissatisfied with other pieces, as shown, for example, by Kúnos’s gently indignant letter dated November 10, 1885: Concerning the mamin-article: I mentioned in the accompanying letter that the first [part of the] publication would be only a summary and an introduction to the actual elaboration, to which I collected quite interesting and new material. I was surprised therefore by your response that the article is useless since I do not say in it anything new. Of course I ceased working on this material consequently, partly because I am not in a position to locate earlier relevant literature, and partly because I did not want possibly to jeopardize my efforts again. If, upon returning home, I present or hand over the material, maybe it will turn out to be usable.⁸⁴¹

Most of Kúnos’s mentioned articles are apparently (and unfortunately) lost. We have the autograph of the first article, most of which, as indicated by Kúnos, is indeed nothing more than a popular introduction to Sabbatianism.⁸⁴² However, having the published pieces and the first part of the autograph,⁸⁴³ and furthermore, considering the fact that the first and only scholarly article on the Dönmeh before Kúnos’s efforts was published in the previous year (1884),⁸⁴⁴ it is likely that his further articles indeed would have offered “quite interesting and new material.”⁸⁴⁵ Another point of friction was indicated by Kúnos’s muted complaint addressed to Goldziher, the subtext of which was that his (Kúnos’s) work did not receive sufficient recognition by the Hungarian Academy of Sciences.⁸⁴⁶

 Kúnos, “Török-zsidó világ,” with excerpts from his letters to Goldziher from May and July, 1885.  GIL/23/11/01.  GIL/23/11/23, 3 – 8.  Ibid., 1– 2.  Graetz, “Ueberbleibsel der sabbatianischer Sekte in Salonichi.”  See his programmatic letter to Goldziher from August 24, 1885 (GIL/23/11/10), as well as four other letters from him (GIL/23/11/04, 05, 06, 07) on his plans and preparations for his fieldwork on the Dönmehs and other Jewish groups. In subsequent decades (until the 1930s) Kúnos published seven or eight additional articles related to Jewish folklore and ethnography in Hungarian.  “I will happily undertake to deliver the Kőrösi Csoma Memorial Lecture. Even until now, it did not depend on me that I could not take my share from the Academy” (November 11, 1914; GIL/23/11/22). The Kőrösi Csoma Memorial Lectures (supported by a private foundation) were organized by and held at the Hungarian Academy of Sciences. Five months later Kúnos reported to Goldziher that he almost finished writing the lecture and also gave it a title (April 12, 1915; GIL/ 23/11/20.); it was published as A nyugati kultúra hatása a török irodalomban.

220

VIII Personal-professional Relationships: a Sample

Goldziher’s diaries and correspondences reveal little about his opinions on the academic and other qualities of his students. The conflict of Goldziher with Munkácsi and Kúnos concerning the Keleti Szemle is quite transparent; Goldziher’s entry in his diary speaks for itself. In the other issues mentioned above, where our sources leave us in the dark about important details and circumstances, we can only speculate about the causes, nature, and intensity of the tensions between them. In any case, it is reasonable to assume that Munkácsi’s and Kúnos’s connections with Vámbéry and their involvement with politicized Hungarian orientalism made Goldziher somewhat wary and distrustful of them.

IX Goldziher as a Jew In the earlier stages of his career, Goldziher (like Geiger and other pioneers of Wissenschaft des Judentums) regarded scholarship and the study of religion in particular as a solution for problems of modern Judaism. Scholarship for him was also a sort of salvation from these problems, a “refuge” in his personal life,⁸⁴⁷ as his diary amply attests. Goldziher described scholarship as a “shield” (T 188, 205), a “shelter” (T 90, 94, 269), a “temple” (T 109), a “life-saving balsam,” and a “tree of life” (T 205). “‘The more they afflicted them, the more they spread out’ [cf. Ex. 1:12]. Right; they hurt and oppress me terribly,” he writes about his superiors at his workplace at the Jewish community, “but I still worked again much and well [in my research]. Scholarship is my breathing. Did the pressure of circumstances ever prevent anyone from breathing? Breathing is more difficult, and one has sometimes asthma attacks, But one still breathes, and as long as he is able to, he drags on with life” (T 138; June 7, 1892). Goldziher found shelter from his local academic frustrations in religion, and in his scholarly work he found refuge from his local religious frustrations. He cites twice his father’s promise (or blessing, or consolation) from the time of their financial hardships in the mid-1860s, to the effect that scholarship will save his son from such humiliation and misery that were the father’s lot (T 24). His father was both right and wrong. Sorrow and frustration remained with Goldziher, who could not avoid certain demanding norms, values, and emotional patterns that he developed in his early childhood (T 17– 23, 37, etc.). “With much wisdom is much grief” (Kohelet 1:18). Goldziher’s strained relationship with his Jewish milieu had a distinct religious-ideological dimension vividly expressed in his diary. For instance, he describes a tense meeting of the Board of the Rabbinical Seminary (of which he was a member) where David Kaufmann made the following caustic remark to him: “Your Judaism is put in formaldehyde (Spiritus); I live in it.”⁸⁴⁸ On the

 Psalms 46:2, 119:92.  Cf. Goldziher’s own characterization of Bacher, his friend during his student years, with whom his relationship deteriorated gradually, probably from the opening of the Rabbinical Seminary of Budapest: “From the very beginning, B. manifested himself to be a scholar. For him, Judaism was a literary fact; for me, already then in 1867, it was the heartbeat of my life” (T 33). B. Heller published some interesting excerpts from Bacher’s letters to Goldziher, mentioned in Goldziher’s diary: “Emlékezés Bacher Vilmosról,” 54– 56. Goldziher’s son, Károly, who donated his father’s correspondence to the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, notes on one of the envelopes: “25 letters from 1868 – 1871 [from Bacher to Goldziher; maybe some of https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285-011

222

IX Goldziher as a Jew

same occasion, Goldziher’s attitude toward Judaism was compared to Heymann Steinthal’s, and was also likened to atheism and nihilism (T 212; March 3, 1897).⁸⁴⁹ Goldziher, for his part, called Neolog Judaism “a religious denomination [Confession] without religion” (T 84) and a “sect of atheists” (T 222; September 24, 1899) (these were among his relatively benign statements on Neolog Judaism; cf. his sarcastic tirade in T 84– 85). When his religious integrity was insulted, Goldziher sometimes found relief in Christian approval. For example, he notes with satisfaction when a Lutheran pastor addresses him as a “loyal follower of the Jewish faith” (T 250; March 4, 1906).⁸⁵⁰ Literature on Goldziher refers to his religious convictions only briefly and usually in the spirit of the latter, pious characterization. “Religious Jew” and “atheist,” however, are vague labels that may reflect different perspectives and do not even necessarily exclude each other, insofar as religious beliefs and practices are not tightly bound together in Judaism. “Goldziher remained a religious, (mildly) observant, and proud Jew to his very end”—for a capsule biography, no better formulation is needed than Shlomo Dov Goitein’s description here.⁸⁵¹ But what made him proud of his Jewishness? What were his actual beliefs and practices? How did his studies on Judaism and Islam shape Goldziher’s religiosity, and how did his religiosity, in turn, impact his scholarship? His religion was an academic’s religion. Goitein also did not fail to mention Goldziher’s obvious “Jewish problem” (or problems).⁸⁵² In earlier chapters numerous ideological aspects of these questions were discussed or touched upon; in the current chapter more personal facets of these questions will be considered.

Religious Profile A few personal testimonies attest to Goldziher’s religious behavior. A. Sh. Yahuda, one of his close disciples, writes in his lively portrait of Goldziher: He was not meticulous in observing many of the commandments related to place, time, and bodily needs, but he was very rigorous about commandments related to the mind, “duties

them from Goldziher to Bacher?—T.T.] are in the possession of B. Heller.” Cf. Introduction, n. 90. The current location of this correspondence is unknown.  This telling incident gives us a rare glimpse into the religious differences and tensions within the Rabbinical Seminary—a little known and little researched subject.  For a similar entry in the diary, see T 190. Cf. his sarcastic remark in the long quotation (concerning Strack) above, p. 94.  See Goitein, “[Review of:] Ignaz Goldziher Tagebuch,” 326.  Ibid.

Religious Profile

223

of the heart,” and about positive commandments enjoined on man by human ethics in general, and interpersonal relationships in particular. Also, in matters between God and man, his heart was devoted entirely to God.⁸⁵³

This characterization is supported by Samuel Krauss’s brief, general (and similarly reserved) remark: “[…] spiritually he was orthodox and despised the Neologs and their ignorance with the arrows of his tongue. But whoever thinks that Goldziher lived a fully religious lifestyle, errs.”⁸⁵⁴ Goldziher’s diaries not only provide ample evidence of his strong Jewish religious identity, but also shed light on his religious practices and attitudes. Prayer, especially solitary prayer, was a practice he held close to his heart throughout his life.⁸⁵⁵ His predilection for “non-statutory” prayer, and readiness to ignore at times ritual norms concerning time and place of prayer, was apparently influenced by mystical-pietistic traditions.⁸⁵⁶ There is little doubt that besides “learning,” prayer was regarded by him as the highest, most developed form of religious observance: non-anthropomorphic (de-anthropomorphized) prayer, above all, for Goldziher the rationalist scholar of religion.⁸⁵⁷ Nonetheless, it can reasonably be assumed that Goldziher the pietist and scholar of folklore also appreciated the simpleton’s naively anthropomorphic prayer.⁸⁵⁸ He readily served as prayer leader (in smaller congregations) at the Jewish High Festivals,⁸⁵⁹ and the diary suggests that his attitude to Jewish prayer was neither Spinozistic (denying the legitimacy of personal prayer), nor even Maimonidean (practicing and understanding it in a philosophical-contemplative way).⁸⁶⁰ We find some 15 brief, informal, written invocations, prayers, and eulogies of Goldziher scattered in the diary. They exhibit his full belief in the potency and efficacy of prayers; his pious utterances and supplications are entirely congruent with standard psalmic patterns, addressing a personal God, mostly in the second person. Most of these prayers are praises and thanksgivings,⁸⁶¹ and the

 Yahuda, “Goldziher,” 221.  Krauss, “The Sages of Budapest,” 453.  Yahuda, “Goldziher,” 221; Krauss, “The Sages of Budapest,” 454.  In the Islamic context, see Goldziher, “Materialen zur Entwickelungsgeschichte des Ṣûfismus,” 38 – 40; Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 132.  Cf. above the section “Applied theology” in Ch. VII.  Goldziher, “Mélanges judéo-arabes [xiii–xv],” 11– 12; cf. Heller, “‘Gott wünscht das Herz’,” 368 – 379, and Saperstein, “The Simpleton’s Prayer.”  T 263, 280; Heller, “Goldziher Ignác emlékezete,” 23 – 24; Yahuda, “Goldziher,” 221.  Kreisel, “From Dialogue to Contemplation.”  T 91, 104, 190 (April 29, 1895), 207 (November 6, 1896), 231 (May 16, 1902), 235 (1904), 248 – 249 (1906), 251 (June 8, 1906), 257 (September 8, 1907), 278 (July 15, 1913).

224

IX Goldziher as a Jew

rest are lamentations and petitions.⁸⁶² As for the latter pair of genres, three instructive passages that are not prayers in the narrower sense of the term should be adduced. In the first two (T 134; March 6, 1892), Goldziher plainly refers to Psalms 55, 56, 88, 109, and 43 (lament psalms; the first and the fourth bearing a heavily imprecatory character) as “speaking for” himself; in the third (T 157; April 21, 1893) he wishes, in the context of a death anniversary of his mother, that she would pray “at the throne of the Almighty for us [i. e., Goldziher’s extended family] […] who are surrounded by nasty perils.”⁸⁶³ In Budapest, he apparently avoided attending large Neolog synagogues, especially on the High Holidays. This is due most likely to his father’s emphasis on private religious practice, which he considered more “sincere” than “showing off” piety in public places of worship.⁸⁶⁴ Goldziher cites a similar Muslim tradition with obvious approval: A prayer recited in this mosque (in Medinah) equals a thousand prayers performed in any other except the one in Meccah. A prayer performed in the mosque of Mecca is worth a hundred thousand times more than a prayer in any other mosque. But there is something worth more than all these: the prayer spoken by a person in his own house where no one but Allah sees him, without any purpose other than his desire to approach God (cf. Matt. 6:6).⁸⁶⁵

 T 136 (March 22, 1892) (of a mixed character, formally thanksgiving), 139 (June 7, 1892), 139 – 140 (June 22, 1892), 142 (July 27, 1892), 148 (August 25, 1892). Together with citations in Ch. VI, “Blessing and curse,” the references given here and in the previous footnote provide only a rough typology, and a representative but not exhaustive list of passages relevant to Goldziher’s “theology” and “God-talk” in the diary.  These written prayers show an interesting chronological distribution: while all the mentioned lamentations-petitions come from 1892 (apparently not unrelated to the fact that the part devoted to this year [T 133 – 156] is the longest in the diary), and one from 1893, all the thanksgivings, except two, are dated 1895 or later. This distribution reflects, it seems, the fact that in the years 1893 – 1895 Goldziher’s overall situation gradually improved and his self-esteem grew. Family troubles remained with him for the rest of his life, but from 1893 the Jewish Community of Pest had a new president (Zsigmond Kohner; T ; January 15, 1893), and it seems that his frustration with the community apparatus, as well as his workload (cf. T Apr. 12, 1897) diminished somewhat in subsequent years. His foreign relations intensified from 1893; he received more and more honors, invitations, and students from abroad. In 1894 he was appointed honorary ordinary professor at Budapest University. The cumulative effect of these factors may explain why the “horrors” of the period 1876 – 1895 are singled out in the diary from a distant retrospect (T 274; December 31, 1912), instead of 1876 – 1905, his entire “serfdom” as a Jewish community official, as one would expect.  T 18. There Goldziher also notes his father’s toleration of his son’s occasional absence from public services at the synagogue.  Az iszlám, 452; Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 19. Cf. ibid., 42, on the mentioned form of hypocrisy as a “minor” form of idolatry.

Religious Profile

225

“Showcasing” one’s piety in front of coreligionists was repulsive in his eyes, but he felt that practicing religion in public (such as praying in open spaces), and before non-coreligionists in particular, was a respectable display of one’s identity.⁸⁶⁶ The diary also records instances when he ignored religious norms—mostly in situations related to his academic duties and honors.⁸⁶⁷ Sometimes he gives voice to his scruples, and tends to justify his non-normative behavior with his concern for the honor of his country and religion (when it occurred abroad)⁸⁶⁸ or as support for Jewish emancipation (in his home country).⁸⁶⁹ His attitude towards Jewish dietary laws (which, no doubt, were serious impediments for him in his academic and social life) is an interesting case in point. In 1871, he declined a dinner invitation from Dozy in Leiden because of the dietary laws, while admitting his frustration about his inability to provide a “reasonable” answer for adhering to these laws given his critical attitude toward biblical studies (T 48). Subsequently, he overcame this embarrassment and ceased observing many of these dietary laws, at least outside of his home.⁸⁷⁰ “I worked out the religious system and the historical conception of development […]. All things in any way contradictory, prompted in me by earlier sentimental moments, were cut loose,” he writes, probably concerning the second half of the 1880s, in order to explain, it seems, his discontinuation of various Jewish religious practices to which he was previously attached by “sentimental moments.” Thanks to

 Cf. OrD, 90, 123. He was also remembered for praying occasionally in public spaces in Budapest (Hermann Schmelczer ‫ל”ז‬, private communication). See also the anecdote told by Gottheil, “Ignaz Goldziher,” 190. For another anecdotal piece of evidence on the role that perceptions by non-Jews (the “eye of the Other”; and a related “sense of guilt”) played in his religiosity, see the story recorded by Leopold [Yekutiel Yehuda] Grünwald (Greenwald) in Goldziher’s name (about Franz Delitzsch’s visit to Goldziher and Bacher on Tisha be-Av in Leipzig, 1869 or 1870): Grünwald, ‫”זכרונות משנות השחרות‬. ‫( ”א“תרע‬in translations: idem, “R. Leopold Greenwald: Tish‘ah be-Av at the University of Leipzig”; idem, “Tisa be-Áv a lipcsei egyetemen”).  T 238 – 239 (September 1, 1904); 244 (May 27, 1905); 246 (June 15, 1905; see also Scheiber “Előszó,” 14); 303 (September 14, 1917) (cf., however, T 307– 310; May 28, August 17 and 31, 1918). These somewhat doubtful cases of religious laxity seem to have happened after it became clear to Goldziher that he would obtain a salaried professorship at the university and could retire from his position in the Neolog Jewish community. See also Goldziher’s explanation of his laxity in his letter to Fleischer (from 1875), cited by Schorsch, “Beyond the Classroom,” 145. The explanation creates the impression that it was customized for Fleischer.  See T 238 – 239 (September 1, 1904), where Goldziher tries to justify the religious transgressions involved in his travel to the United States and to allay his related remorse by referring to his concern for “the honor of my country and denomination.”  T 303 (September 14, 1917); see the citation in the Introduction, “Fleeing from God to God.”  T 72, 95, 144, 150, 176 – 178, 179, 186, 200, etc. See also Yahuda, “Goldziher, the Scholar,” 25.

226

IX Goldziher as a Jew

his elimination of these ruptures, he records with satisfaction, he was able to turn his house “Jewish in a higher sense […] a temple […] for truly God-believing Messianic Judaism”; he raised his children “with prophets and psalms; all lies were banished from their education and were thrown aside” (T 111). In his family circle he tried to implement his religious ideals as much as he could. On the other hand, puritanical-ascetic disposition in which ethics and a sense of duty were accentuated, accompanied him from his early childhood. In the diary he repeatedly emphasizes his ideals of self-denial, austerity, and ascetic idealism (T 18, 22, 91). In 1893 he was offered a professorship in Heidelberg. Upon declining this offer, he recorded in his diary: I remained faithful and steadfast. No one will find me ever anywhere else but where I am called on duty or bound by duty. I will find the fulfilment of them as my “compensation,” as said by my cousin, Vilmos Goldzieher, who can safely expect a professorship.⁸⁷¹ A “compensation” other than this I am not seeking and I am not wishing to find. I hope that my children, who never heard from me instruction in a different spirit, will consider duty as the meaning of their life—duty, and not comfort of earthly life. I wish all those who prefer earthly prosperity over his earnest duties, and solve the collision of moral and animalistic interests by setting aside the former as troublesome seduction, that they would be punished for their evil still in this world. If only restlessness and agony would fill his day and night, and consume his body and soul, to serve as a warning lesson for the unexperienced who did not learn how to emerge victoriously from such an easy battle. (T 167, December 31, 1893)

It was the guardianship of his sister’s children that Goldziher primarily had in mind when speaking about his “duties” by which he was bound (T 101– 103; 166 [December 1, 1893]). His loyalty to Hungary and his declining of positions offered to him abroad are presented here as primary manifestations of his puritanical sense of duty. His propensity for puritanism was influenced by role models (such as his father, his teacher Freudenberg, and Kármán) and also by readings such as the Duties of the Heart by Baḥya; the imprecatory style that dominate the quoted entry, however, is apparently his own. For Goldziher normative religious practice and “commandments” which were “duties of the body” were clearly subordinate to “duties of the heart.” Enhancing the status of the latter was a basic feature of Islamic and Jewish mysticism. In adopting this attitude, he basically followed the moderate, “nomistic” mystical trends to which al-Ghazali and Baḥya ibn Paquda belonged, and not the radical “anomistic” or “antinomistic” groups and schools that considered the observation of normative practices pointless, irrelevant, or even suspicious

 Vilmos Goldzieher (1849 – 1916) became an honorary ordinary professor of ophthalmology at the University of Budapest in 1895.

Religious Profile

227

and dangerous. The latter “anomistic/antinomistic” standpoint was justified, not unlike Goldziher’s aversion to showcasing piety in Jewish public worship and preference for solitary-reclusive prayer, by regarding normal religious observance (which is typically or often in company) as a hotbed of hypocrisy.⁸⁷² Despite his relative religious laxity, or just because of it, Goldziher had orthodox “nostalgia” and leanings in his respect for traditional learning and its devotees,⁸⁷³ and in other elusive, emotional ways.⁸⁷⁴ In relation to other religions too, at times he preferred traditional rituals that he considered residually pagan over modernist, “purified” ones. Visiting Christian and Jewish places of worship with an ethnographic eye in Brassó (Braşov, in Transylvania, today in Romania) provided him opportunity to open a tirade against reformed religious practices. “Romanian” (Greek Orthodox or Greek Catholic) Christian ritual (in the musical component of which he recognizes the source of Polish-Jewish liturgical tunes) is “rich” and superior to the local Lutheran church with its “freezing emptiness,” where the ritual takes place “without the followers.” The Lutheran church—lacking “God,” “Bible,” “uplift,” “spiritual recreation,” its rituals being “based on mere habit”—is inferior even to the modern synagogue, “sunken in atheism and untruthfulness.” Romanian priests in their dealings with “sacraments” are also superior to “ignorant, preaching” modern rabbis (T 163; August 3, 1893). After serving the Neolog community for 30 years, he was happy to sever all formal ties (except for teaching at the Rabbinical Seminary).⁸⁷⁵ He did not offer coherent statements on Jewish denominational issues in his major writings and diaries, but judging by the venomous arrows he shot in every direction, it is clear that he was homeless in the Hungarian Jewish milieu.⁸⁷⁶ For him, old (Orthodox)

 Goldziher, Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 147– 150, 160; cf. idem, Die Richtungen der islamische Koranauslegung, 209, 237– 238, 253 – 254; Lobel, A Sufi-Jewish Dialogue, 160 – 163, 167– 174. It can reasonably be assumed, however, that in his religious laxities Goldziher felt vindicated or supported also by such “anomistic” arguments.  T 38; 240 (January 27, 1905); see also his warm obituary for Samuel Löw Brill (“Brill Sámuel Löw rabbi”) and his panegyric on yeshiva-learning as learning for its own sake: “A jesibák.”  See, for example, T 303 (September 14, 1917); the quotation from Krauss, p. 223 above, and Weisz, “Goldziher Ignácz,” 1. Heller observed: Goldziher “seeks the religiosity of his parental house always, everywhere,” in Heller, “Goldziher Ignác emlékezete,” 23. See also below.  Cf. the best-known story about him (which became a piece of Hungarian Jewish folklore), cited in Kinga Frojimovics et al., Jewish Budapest, 172.  The similar non-denominational or supra-denominational posture of Samuel Löw Brill, one of his revered teachers, likely influenced Goldziher’s stance; see his “Brill Sámuel Löw rabbi,” 3 – 4.

228

IX Goldziher as a Jew

Judaism was passé, while modern (progressive) Judaism was superficial and inauthentic. Traditionalist, “orthodox” Judaism was typically unphilosophical and theologically unsophisticated; Reform Judaism was typically rationalist and dogmatic. Goldziher rejected both attitudes and platforms, without promulgating intermediary religious-theological positions.⁸⁷⁷ Against traditionalists (even among Neologs), he advocated Maimonidean rationalism and intellectualism; against reformers (even among Neologs), he recommended his other hero: Yehuda Halevi, the plebeian and non-rationalist medieval Jewish thinker.⁸⁷⁸ He also presented Moses Mendelssohn’s anti-dogmatism as a signpost for both Orthodoxy and Reform;⁸⁷⁹ and yet his lifelong experiences coupled with his World War I desperation increased his skepticism toward the entire Jewish Enlightenment project that Mendelssohn’s name represented. Reading the correspondences of one of Mendelssohn’s daughters, mistress of one of Berlin’s salons in the late eighteenth century hosted by Jewish ladies, attesting the loose lifestyle of those circles and the spread of Jewish conversion to Christianity,⁸⁸⁰ drew him near to confirm the sinister predictions of adversaries of the Jewish Enlightenment about such disquieting and abhorrent consequences of the—otherwise—“honest” Mendelssohnian efforts (T 303; September 15, 1917). It seems that Mór Kármán played the most important role in the formation of Goldziher’s adult religious attitudes with his liberal, Bible-centered Judaism focusing on ethics, and not least with his harmonious personality. Some layers of his own personality and religious persona, however, obstructed Goldziher’s ability to emulate that harmony of Kármán that he admired so much. A traditionalist oriental Jew of sorts and an occidental Reform ideologue wrestled inside him. He noted with affinity and appreciation a similar duality or ambiguity in Renan’s attitude toward his own (Catholic) religion. “Popular religion (religion populaire)— this is what I appreciate,” writes Renan in one of his letters (to Marcellin Berthelot), and Renan could identify, as Goldziher observes immediately after this citation, “with religious life that springs from the immediacy of the soul and man-

 For more on Goldziher and “mediating theologies,” see Ch. VII, “Reform à la Goldziher in Islam and Judaism,” and the next section.  For Maimonides, see Ch. VI, “Science of religion—and commitment”; for Yehuda Halevi, see Goldziher, “Die islamische und die jüdische Philosophie,” 73, and his Tradition und Dogma, 11– 12; for both, see Goldziher’s cited letter to A. S. Yahuda, above, Ch. III, “Sense of superiority.”  Goldziher, Tradition und Dogma, 11– 12.  The correspondence of Mendelssohn’s daughter Brendel/Breindel, later wife of Friedrich Schlegel, is meant: Wieneke, ed., Caroline und Dorothea Schlegel in Briefen. Four of Mendelssohn’s six children converted to Christianity, all following their father’s death.

Una Veritas

229

ifests itself freely.” Renan was deeply moved by the service (requiem), according to the old Maronite liturgy, in memory of his elder sister Henriette who was buried in Amsheet/Amchit (in present-day Lebanon). He disliked the archaeologicalmuseological attitude to ancient relics that may stir up curiosity and nurture science, but which defunctionalizes artifacts and deprives them of their naturalness and authenticity. On the other hand, Renan hated dogmatism and strove for religious reform under the flag of “science” and critical spirit.⁸⁸¹ This formula and combination of Renan’s quest for religious authenticity with a critical-scientific approach resembles a similar duality in Goldziher’s outlook. Below I will try to show that this duality was not only pertinent to his general approach to religions (discussed in Chapter VI) but deserves special attention with regard to his own religious mind as well.

Una Veritas Can historical science, a new (quasi‐)religion for some (among them Renan and Goldziher), rejuvenate the old monotheistic faiths? Can scientific, critical spirit reconfigure religion without seriously harming its authenticity? Goldziher’s very first publication at the age of twelve won him the title of “freethinker” and “Spinozist” (T 22). This latter label proved not to be an empty one.⁸⁸² The 12-years-old author of Sichat-Jiczchak already blamed the Orthodox for their “blind fanaticism.”⁸⁸³ As a late maskil, an independent Jew, and a dissident who criticized both Orthodox and Neolog Judaism, he signed his pseudonym under an article published in 1886 as follows: “Izsak Ungar, ordinary Jew, not yet a Neolog.”⁸⁸⁴ At times he strikes a radical pietistic note:⁸⁸⁵ If someone is compelled by his religious conscience to abandon a worn-out religion, he should not join another, but should return to God. From lies there is only one refuge: truth, which is with God. God has no temple in this world. Incense is brought to Satan,

 Goldziher, “Renan és Berthelot levelezése,” 171– 173, 186 – 188.  Reporting about two of his visits in The Netherlands (in 1906 and 1912), Goldziher calls him “the holy Spinoza” and a “divinely inspired prophet” (T 254), and he calls the Spinoza-house in Rijnsburg “one of the holiest places on Earth” (T 273).  Sichat-Jiczchak, 13 (twice).  “A jesibák,” 617.  Compare the following entry, however, with the interesting entry written half a year earlier: T 163 (August 3, 1893).

230

IX Goldziher as a Jew

and the organ is played for the honor of Satan; his servants ascend to the pulpit to profane God’s name. A servant of God keeps himself away from them. (T 170; February 4, 1894).

This meditation (or outburst of desperation) bears the mark of the “Fleeing from God to God” motif; it also echoes pious medieval non-denominational or antidenominational trends in mystical Islam (Sufism), which, as Goldziher observed, had some intersections with freethinking.⁸⁸⁶ “Truth” was for Goldziher the tertium comparationis between religion and modern historical-critical scholarship. There is only one truth, and if a “truth” about a particular religion and a “truth” of that religion (i. e., a part of its traditional beliefs) contradict one another, then one of the two must yield to the other. Goldziher was a man of una veritas, not of duplex veritas. He gave precedence to scientific truth about religion—at least this was his declared principle or “policy.” Yet he always criticized both Orthodoxy and Neologs from a scientificrationalist as well as from a pietistic perspective. In that respect he had (or developed) a dual, philosophical and pietistic-mystical approach not unlike that of al-Ghazali and Baḥya ibn Paquda, and seemingly under their influence, partly at least. As a middle position, or implicit “mediating theology” [Vermittlungstheologie] of sorts—which is liable to “fall between two stools,” as Goldziher writes about the Ash‘arites⁸⁸⁷—his approach was fragile and ungrateful. It was a peculiar kind of mediating position between Jewish faith and science, diverging considerably from the spectrum of positions within the Hungarian progressive Jewish camp (the Neologs)—which itself was built on a different kind of mediating theology that was criticized by him. Purity of faith and inner coherence and harmony of worldview, which he admired in people like Mór Kármán and Gustav Bickell (a Catholic scholar of the Bible and Semitic languages),⁸⁸⁸ resonated strongly with Goldziher, who grew up on Baḥya ibn Paquda’s mystical-ethical treatise. He gave expression to his own aspiration already in 1874, hailing Ghazali for “internalizing” law and for

 Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 151– 153.  Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law, 111. Goldziher also calls al-Ghazali’s work a “mediating theology”: A spanyolországi arabok helye az iszlám fejlődése történetében, 195 (“The Spanish Arabs and Islam,” 31).  See his homage to Bickell on T 160 (June 20, 1893): “This Catholic priest disclosed to me a noble, entirely truthful and harmonious soul. […] a shining example of how unnecessary it is for a deeply religious person to suppress, let alone disown, scientific consciousness.” Characteristically, this accolade in the diary entry turns into a diatribe against Jewish scholars and leaders. Bickell also earned Goldziher’s appreciation by divulging and condemning to him the thwarting, by ecclesiastical circles, of offering a professorship to Goldziher in Sweden in 1889 (T 160 – 161).

Una Veritas

231

“creating a unified world view from a pile of external laws.”⁸⁸⁹ He persistently confronted his Jewish audiences with the same ideal. “People of those times,” he remarks on the era and impact of medieval Jewish philosophers in his lecture series, “had a harmonious soul; they still did not have a talent for that bifurcation of the soul [lelkület] which accompanies, as a rule, periods of religious decline”; and stresses, turning to his audience, that “[…] ethics is impossible where there is no truth; a religious soul is unthinkable without a harmonious soul.”⁸⁹⁰ However, demanding “one truth” (harmony between faith and reason, between science and theology), is easier said than done. In Chapter VI we compared Goldziher’s penchant for religious authenticity, and its tension with his evolutionist-scientific approach to religion, to Renan’s seemingly similar attitudes. The mere fact that this demand of “one truth” became his oft-repeated, central message in Jewish theology (and pedagogy) is an indication of sorts that he had personal qualms about this issue—and not only in his youth. The quest for “one truth” implies an excruciating sense of “two truths” (in reality or potentially): science and reason versus faith and observance. In Goldziher’s case (and for many of his Jewish contemporaries) this problematics was not of a general philosophical-epistemological nature, as in medieval religious philosophy.⁸⁹¹ It was more related to the narrower Judaic problem of the “reasons for the commandments” (ta‘amei ha-mitzvot), if we look for ancient and medieval Jewish “philosophical” parallels. However, it was for him above all a moral and emotional problem of unity and harmony between life and thought: between religious thought or worldview, and practice. This quest informs much of his sixth lecture on “The essence and evolution of Judaism.” He admires Kármán, who shows signs of neither “conflicts of the soul,” nor “contradictions between thought, words, and life” (T 42– 43)—and this gives us a glimpse into how he perceived the problem.⁸⁹² Bernát Heller testifies that on one Shabbat eve, not long before Goldziher’s death, he found Goldziher sitting at the table, dressed up in festive dress, with the Hebrew Bible and an Arabic work in front of him. “I am not sure,” said Goldziher, “whether I am doing the right thing by still delving into Arabic literature,

 “Jelentés a M. T. Akadémia könyvtára számára keletről hozott könyvekről,” 20 (Mestyan, “Ignác Goldziher’s Report on the Books,” 465). Emphasis added.  “A zsidóság lényege,” 100, 112 (italics in the original); see also Tradition und Dogma, 5.  Wolfson, “The Double Faith Theory in Saadia, Averroes and St. Thomas.”  See the previous section on Kármán and the section on him in Ch. VIII.

232

IX Goldziher as a Jew

when in a little while I will stand in a place where I will be asked only: ‫נשאת ונתת‬ ‫באמונה‬, did you do your work faithfully?”⁸⁹³ This anecdote is about the tension between study and worship, and between Arabic and Hebrew, Goldziher’s “holy languages.” It also presents “one truth” as a problem for Goldziher no less than as a solution; it subtly illustrates how study on religion, in religion, and as religion mingled and entangled in Goldziher’s spiritual life, and how daunting yet expedient the task of keeping them together or setting them apart may have seemed to him at times. It is difficult to place Goldziher’s religiosity on the Orthodox-Reform spectrum. As for religious practice, he was far from being like an Orthodox Jew; his values and religious sentiments, on the other hand, brought him close to old-time rabbinic maskilim such as his beloved Jewish teachers Freudenberg and Brill. At the celebration of the ninetieth birthday of Moses Bloch, Rector of the Rabbinical Seminary of Budapest, Goldziher also spoke. He reportedly compared Bloch, an old-fashioned Talmudist, to a caregiver of “our mother”: Judaism, and its essential lore: Talmudic scholarship, while “we” are sailing on the ocean, far away from our mother.⁸⁹⁴ This “nostalgia” and tribute for traditional (Talmudic) learning and its devotees (several other examples of which were mentioned above) was a pious duty that he paid to his own feelings and to religious “authenticity.” He paid his dues actively and not only in general cognitive terms. In light of the fact that as a scholar of religion he attached only historical-antiquarian interest to Talmudic literature, his voluntary and repeated performance of the Jewish religious duty of learning traditional literature, and of Talmudic literature in particular,⁸⁹⁵ was far from being self-evident—even if he focused on non-legal parts. The only conceivable explanation, it seems, is his need and ability to compartmentalize: to keep his scholarly convictions and personal feelings apart in some

 Heller, “Goldziher Ignác,” 21. “When man is led in for [the last] Judgment, he is asked: Did you make your dealings faithfully [= with integrity]? Did you fix times for learning? Did you engage in procreation? Did you hope for salvation? Did you engage in the dialectics of wisdom? Did you understand one thing from another?” (bShabbat 31a).  Silberfeld, “Apró képek Goldziher életéből”; cf. Goldziher’s reminiscenses about the same occasion, T 240.  According to some testimonies, he studied Talmud on a daily basis until the end of his life: see, e. g., Yahuda, “Goldziher,” 206; Goitein, “Goldziher,” 6 – 7, n. 9; cf. also Krauss, “The Sages of Budapest,” 454. Specifics of the content and methods of his Talmud study are unknown. One cannot exclude the possibility that he was quite selective, focusing on non-legal parts of Talmudic–midrashic literature—unlike fully traditional, continuous textual study. Such a selectivity would not only fit his overall anti-legalistic outlook, but would also be a natural extension of his early interests and erstwhile teacher’s (Moses Wolf Freudenberg’s) approach; see T 18 – 20.

Loyalty

233

spheres of religious life. Composing and implementing “one truth” had its limits. Such compartmentalization (with individual variations) is known from the history of modern Jewish learning and scholarship; Leopold Zunz (from the 1840s) was the oldest example; Israel Lewy of the Breslau Seminary and Goldziher’s disciple Martin Schreiner may serve as examples among Goldziher’s contemporaries.⁸⁹⁶ For them, keeping critical scholarship and traditionalist religiosity apart also aimed at holding them together. In such cases, if the two trajectories were perceived as converging, parallel or congruent, this compartmentalization could count as upholding “one truth”; if the two were perceived as diverging, it could be seen as “double talk.”

Loyalty A counterbalance, or a corrective, to Goldziher’s quest for “truth” in scholarship was what was perceived and appreciated by many of his colleagues, friends, and students (Jewish and non-Jewish) as his “piety”: a loyalty to Judaism and solidarity with the Jewish people.⁸⁹⁷ As a “monotheistic purist/puritan” (T 307, 309), his alienation from institutionalized religion and his emphasis on a prophetic, universalistic Judaism drove him to seek cross-confessional respect in the realm of religion.⁸⁹⁸ It is, of course, difficult to discern what Goldziher’s relation to the God of the “Patriarchs” was, but to remain loyal to the God of his fathers and teachers (T 16, 36, 73, 91)—and, in some sense, to his “tribe” or people (“Stamm”)—was important to him (T 18, 134 – 135, 180, 275).⁸⁹⁹ In his social circles, and especially in academia, this was no simple matter. He had other allegiances, too. According to reliable testimonies, Goldziher vowed not to abandon his name, religion, or country.⁹⁰⁰ Despite heavy pressure in academic life and his attraction to Islam, it seems that he never contemplated converting to another religion. To keep his name was the least of his problems. Emigration, on the other hand, was a perennial and tormenting question for him. In the diary he offers a variety of reasons and retrospective justifications—both

 Turan, “Martin Schreiner,” 74– 76.  See Snouck Hurgronje, “Goldziher,” 109; Becker, “Goldziher,” 217.  Cf. Yahuda, “Goldziher,” 226.  See above, n. 478, and the section “Religion, People, or Culture?” in Ch. VI. For assimilation and dissimulation, cf. OrD, 129, 136, etc.; for the torments related to them, cf. Goldziher, “Das Prinzip der taḳijja im Islam”; Frojimovics et al., Jewish Budapest, 170 – 171.  Mahler, “Goldziher Ignácról,” 3; Ballagi, Élő tanítások, 276.

234

IX Goldziher as a Jew

moral (T 135 – 136) and patriotic—for not leaving his homeland.⁹⁰¹ Above all, he refers to his strong (and opaque) sense of self-mortification and martyrdom.⁹⁰² He was quoted as saying that “scholarship has no country, but the scholar does have his country.”⁹⁰³ In fact, upon his election as a (corresponding) member of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences in 1876, he started his inaugural address by “expressing the pledge that to earn this distinction by serving Hungarian science will remain the holiest task of [his] life.”⁹⁰⁴ Cumulative evidence and— above all—his subsequent career show that this pledge was more than pompous, patriotic grandiloquence. His “sense of duty” (mentioned above in the section “Religious profile”) and his vows and pledges were certainly significant—perhaps the most significant—factors in his repeated decisions not to leave his home country. However, there may have been other more prosaic factors at work here that contributed to these decisions; for instance, his emotional inertia against, and temperamental resistance to, his (and his nuclear family’s) migration.⁹⁰⁵ It seems he did not feel himself fit for such adventures. Still, he felt at home only among his orientalist friends abroad. While he did not spare the academic establishment in Hungary from criticism, he reserved most of his venom for the local Jewish establishment. Goldziher’s loyalty to his ancestral faith and his homeland can be understood in light of, and partly explained by, Mór Kármán’s similar staunchness. It is hard to understand the depth of these pious twin loyalties without taking a glance at the ideological standpoint of Hungarian progressive Jews. In his generation, Kármán defined and embodied this posture more than anyone else in Neology—at least among the left-leaning members of the Neolog community. At the bottom of this ideological construct one finds a historiosophic conviction—in the combined spirit of Biblical and modern nationalism—that “nations” are the ultimate actors on the stage of universal history, and in order for univer-

 A. Scheiber, “Nordau’s Letters,” 205, n. 20; Somogyi, “My Reminiscences of I. Goldziher,” 15 – 16.  T 172, 206, 290, 311. For a different, positive “teleological” explanation, see T 279 (August 10, 1913).  Somogyi, “My Reminiscences of I. Goldziher,” 15 – 16. This saying is also found in a letter from Ármin Vámbéry to Ede (Eduard) Mahler on September 16, 1896; see Rezsabek, Az utolsó magyar polihisztor, 76. The origins of this aperçu are unclear.  A spanyolországi arabok helye az iszlám fejlődése történetében, 143. This pledge, as well as a few other introductory remarks, are omitted from the English translation; cf. the translator’s footnote, “The Spanish Arabs and Islam,” 5.  Such a suggestion was made, based on some correspondences of Goldziher, by Kinga Dévényi in a paper presented at the Goldziher Memorial conference in Budapest on November 15, 2021 (forthcoming in The Arabist: Budapest Studies in Arabic 43 [2022]).

Loyalty

235

sal history to progress (or, in Biblical notions, to “reach its destination”), it is the task of every nation to realize its “potential” (or “mission”), its specific contribution towards that universal goal. In that sense, every nation is a chosen nation, and this “potential” of individual nations is ultimately a cultural potential.⁹⁰⁶ Hungarian Jewry is part of the Hungarian nation, and its task (or “mission”) in this setting is to offer to Magyars (the “host” nation) segments of the Jewish cultural heritage, after its historical-critical sifting, that are relevant to the selfrealization of the Magyars, as they, Hungarian Jews, conceive it. Goldziher did not necessarily subscribe to this ideological construct in its entirety and to the formulations of the manifesto composed by Kármán in the name of the founders of the Israelite Hungarian Literary Society (in 1893), in which it found its succinct and “official” expression.⁹⁰⁷ However, he must have agreed with their core elements, and, more importantly, he was certainly absorbed in the same social-emotional ambiance that gave rise to and nurtured it. According to this manifesto, published in anticipation of the recognition of Judaism as a religion with a standing equal to major Christian denominations in the country, (1) it is the task of the Society to spread, among Jews, the main tenets of the Jewish religion and ethics, “as elucidated by scientific investigation and integrated by the warmth of faithful enthusiasm”; (2) “it is its duty to utilize, in service of the common national consciousness [nemzeti köztudat] and […] Hungarian culture [közművelődés], whatever noble and of general interest can be found in our religion and ethical worldview”; and (3) through a new Hungarian translation of the Bible and the exploration of its eternal doctrines and impact, it also wishes “to contribute to […] the great task of our Hungarian nation: to develop its individuality.” Beyond his vows, Goldziher’s twin loyalties to his religion and his home country were cemented by such a credo. Hungarian Jews as Jews must promote the Magyar cause and reciprocate the emancipation of Jews by supporting it, and also by legitimizing it with their ancestral Biblical faith (accommodated to the  This historiosophic idea of Kármán is mostly derived from Heymann Steinthal, his teacher in Berlin, but is ultimately rooted in German philosophy and in Biblical prophetism and Talmudic lore; see Turán, “Two Peoples, Seventy Nations,” 14– 19, and above, Ch. VI (“Religion, People, or Culture?”).  See [Kármán], “Felhívás hazai hitrokonainkhoz.” For Kármán’s authorship, see Heller, “Kármán Mór,” 278. In the Jewish context, the reader finds these principles expressed in a nutshell already in Kármán’s “A hitoktatás elvei és rendszere” (see Ch. VIII); he also expressed the mentioned general principles in his general pedagogical publications. Goldziher could not align with the declaration at least on account of his conflict with organizers of the Society and his contempt for at least three of its seven signatories (Ferenc Mezey, Vilmos Bacher, József Bánóczi); cf. the Introduction.

236

IX Goldziher as a Jew

zeitgeist). The emotional element behind these vows, credos, and commitments was built up among local progressive Jews gradually from the 1840s and was also identifiable in Goldziher’s life from his early childhood. The very first known piece of public information on Goldziher is found in a report in the progressive Hungarian Jewish newspaper in 1861. It is about the fundraising efforts of a 12-year old Jewish school-boy from Székesfehérvár (Goldziher’s hometown) among his (Jewish) peers for the erection of a memorial monument in Pest for Sándor Petőfi, the national poet and hero who died in 1849 during the Hungarian Revolution against the Habsburgs. Goldziher (11-years-old then) is listed among the donors.⁹⁰⁸

 Oblat, “Székesfehérvárott, márc. 28, 1861.” The report specifies the donated sums. All the listed donors (15 kids, apart from Goldziher, and eight adults) were apparently Jews.

Conclusion The main trajectory of Goldziher’s early studies and scholarly program (see his recollections about its improvised, rudimentary formulation to Minister Eötvös in 1868: T 34) in the cultural history of “Semitism” followed Renan’s linear scheme of the historical impact of Semitic language groups: first Hebrew, then Aramaic,⁹⁰⁹ and finally, Arabic. Beyond the mastery of these languages (the main Semitic languages used by oriental Jewry through the ages) Goldziher brought unique baggage to oriental studies: a traditional (yet atypical) Jewish upbringing and a wide and deep knowledge of Arabic-Islamic history and culture. His Jewish erudition did not match that of the luminaries of Wissenschaft des Judentums of his day (as a teenager he already devoted more time to his oriental studies than to his Jewish studies), but these skills, combined with his individual sensibilities, produced an uncommon, composite, and comparative perspective of Judaism and Islam. This perspective was at the same time conservative and progressive; occidental and oriental; scientific and pietistic; individualistic-elitistic and communal-egalitarian. If we look for some general outlook or attitude in order to serve as a partial anchor to these conflicting values and to make sense of his seemingly contradictory “ideological” affinities and commitments, I would point to his historically conditioned Jewish liberalism. In post-1867 Austria-Hungary, in the social-political realm this outlook or ideological stance meant (beyond “liberalism” in the usual sense of the term) supporting the cultural self-determination of Magyars (against Germanization), and in general, advancing the cause of the Magyars, who represent the main “state-constituent nation,” the true “historical nation,” and the culturally most developed nation within Hungary.⁹¹⁰ In the Jewish realm this liberalism involved three aspects: an emphasis on individual religious sentiment and piety; promoting the study of the Bible (as opposed to “Talmudism”); and support for relatively slow, wide-based, bottom-up development. Behind these trends in Hungarian

 “Renan mint orientalista,” 479; Renan als Orientalist, 36. In his studies in early childhood, Goldziher was exposed to Aramaic dialects in the Bible, in Talmudic literature, and in liturgical poetry; cf. also his remark on Syriac in the Gesenius-dictionary (T 25). As for his early scholarly papers, see his remarks on Aramaic in comparative Semitic philology, e. g. in: Studien über Tanchūm Jerūschalmi 13 – 14, 22; “A sémi faj őshazájáról és vándorlásáról,” 337– 339.  I use here the vague term “historical nation” to exclude ethnic minorities within Hungary which struggled for their own cultural or political autonomy or independence. Goldziher, as Hungarian Jewish patriots in general, did not support their cause. For the term “historical nations,” cf. the midrashic locution “seventy authentic [real or sovereign] nations”; Turán, “Two Peoples, Seventy Nations,” 60, n. 40. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285-012

238

Conclusion

Jewish liberalism, one finds a biblically inspired, universalistic, and quasi-messianic religious-cultural “nationalism,” and a (primarily German) philosophy of history that recognizes culturally conceived peoplehood (and in particular languages and literatures of the “peoples/nations”) as the primary vehicle of human progress.⁹¹¹ This latter factor was connected to the former, and together they were the main sources of ethnopsychology or “folk psychology” (Völkerpsychologie). Goldziher never gave up his liberal values and outlook, but they were challenged and undermined by social maladies and growing antisemitism in Hungary and especially by World War I, with its detrimental effects on international scholarly communication. The nature of the Jewish community and identity—religion or peoplehood?— was a conundrum in post-emancipation Western and Central-Europe for Jews and non-Jews alike; Goldziher’s stance on this issue, like that of many progressive Jews, can be regarded as complex, nuanced, and ambiguous. On the one hand, Jewishness for him was “a religion and not an ethnographical term.” On the other hand, he time and again applied some attributes of “peoplehood” and appealed to a Jewish collective self, whether in emphasizing Hebrew in elementary Jewish education as a prerequisite for preserving the living Jewish cultural legacy, or in making “communal spirit” as the ultimate standard and arbiter in advancing bottom-up “reforms,” or in his solidarity with East European Jewry (religiously very different from him) and in his tacit approval of some aspects of Zionism, or in manifesting sensitivity to Jewish “authenticity” and showing interest in Jewish folklore. All such affinities and aspirations of Goldziher can be regarded as stemming from his residual sense for Jewish collectivity nurtured by Jewish historical peoplehood. Alternatively, in his quasi-collectivist values and preferences one can recognize not only the “survival” of past Jewish peoplehood-identity in a single individual, but also manifestations of an everchanging, distinct kind of Jewish collective identity, in historical continuity with ancient perceptions and prevalent self-perceptions recognizing this distinctiveness, as preserved for instance by Bileam’s prophecy: “A people dwelling apart, not reckoning itself among the nations” (Num. 23:9). Heymann Steinthal, one of those who had a formative influence on Goldziher, was another example of this peculiar, dual type of collective identity.⁹¹²

 “[M]oral decline in nations begins […] when they let a foreign, even if more refined, element influence them, instead of developing of their individual forces […]”—as he wrote in his Mythology among the Hebrews; for the fuller citation, see Ch. VI, “Prophetism…”.  Characteristically—and reflecting the progressive Jewish zeitgeist and a social atmosphere similar to Goldziher’s—in a semi-homiletical address Steinthal highlighted the second, negative clause of Bileam’s prophecy and inferred from it that historically Israel was always essentially a

Conclusion

239

Despite his strong reservations about the loosely defined collective scientific endeavor called Wissenschaft des Judentums, Goldziher had a place in that movement. Nonetheless, throughout his career as a whole, he did not identify with any broader “agenda” (reform, de-orientalization, or other) associated with this scholarly movement. He defined his own agenda. Despite being a re-orientalized Jewish intellectual, which influenced his intense critique of European (and within it, Hungarian) Judaism in all its types and streams, as his teacher, Vámbéry, another re-orientalized Jew, had been, Goldziher had limited sympathy for a mass-scale re-orientalization project of the Jewish people, such as Zionism. He kept a distance (or he was alienated) from all existing forms of Judaism, and yet he was imbued with deep sentiments and commitments to Judaism as religious tradition, family heritage, and personal piety. As discussed earlier (in Chapter IV, “The Politics of Comparativism”), in his Vorlesungen Goldziher cites the Talmudic dictum, “[…] even that which an accomplished disciple will one day teach before his master was already revealed to Moses at Mt. Sinai,” as a Jewish parallel to some Islamic traditions. This tradition can be interpreted as meaning that there is no “innovation” in the ordinary sense of the word, in traditionalist Jewish scholarship as it understands itself.⁹¹³ Moreover, the master’s “presence” keeps the seemingly “novel” insights of the disciple under check, whatever “teaching before one’s master” means. This is a discouraging idea for many modern scholars who strive to be independent and innovative, but for a “believing” scholar it may be encouraging. Goldziher cites the Talmudic dictum conspicuously omitting the words “before his master.” One may easily find various possible explanations for this omission.⁹¹⁴ Perhaps it is not too far-

religious community, with attributes of peoplehood only as a transitional, preparatory stage in its road to become a truly religious community; Steinthal, “Haman, Bileam und der jüdische Nabi,” 64– 65.  Upon reading Goldziher’s study on Hadith in Muh. St. II, Martin Schreiner wrote to Goldziher: “The remarks on hadith and sunnah [in the book] lead me to investigate the question to what extent carriers of the Oral Law were aware that what they say is novel”; April 14, 1890 (GIL/38/01/136).  I mention here just a few difficulties related to the saying itself, which may have played a role in this omission. Le-horot, “to instruct,” can be understood as “teaching” (in an academic sense) or “ruling” (in a legal sense). All the main textual witnesses of the cited source and its parallels in the Talmud Yerushalmi are essentially the same and read the mentioned words; but some midrashic parallels have a somewhat different wording, and one parallel from the two in Kohelet Rabbah, for example, omits the words “before his master”; see Hirshman, ed., Midrash Kohelet Rabbah 1– 6, 88, 90 (to Koh. 1:10), 296 (to Koh. 5:8 – 9), and the commentary on these texts, 91– 92, 297. According to a widely accepted Talmudic law, a disciple is forbidden to “teach/rule before his master,” but there are numerous interpretations of this phrase. One of

240

Conclusion

fetched to consider once again the possibility of a sort of Freudian omission. As an “accomplished” and “believing” scholar who barely tolerated discrepancies between scientific and religious truths, and who buried his beloved masters (Freudenberg, Brill, Fleischer) by the time he wrote the book,⁹¹⁵ Goldziher may have found solace in the thought that his scientific insights, even in the absence of his mentors—or just because of their absence—met their approval and did not (or could not) contradict the truths of his religion. In any event, a vigorous spin was given to the discussion by Goldziher’s biting reference (T 300 – 301; August 3, 1917) to the mentioned Islamic traditions in the context of the question of whether he in fact said that Neolog Judaism is a “decomposing corpse.”⁹¹⁶ Goldziher’s Vorlesungen, in the original German and in its various translations, is still used as a textbook worldwide. For an academic book written more than 110 years ago, this is an amazing achievement. The success of the book is to be explained not only by its solid scholarship and the sharp rise in the interest in Islamic studies. There is also a vivacity of the author’s style, not only in this classic summary work but also in his numerous other works. This style was contingent upon and nurtured by the web of societal, Jewish, and “colonial” problems that surrounded the works’ author, from which he could not, nor wanted to, disentangle himself entirely. He was not an armchair historian or philologist; he was poised “to comprehend and explain the past from the present”—as if he wrote this sympathetic characterization of Renan (inverting the ancient wisdom of historia est magistra vitae)⁹¹⁷ about himself. Something of the freshness of his works is still preserved for today’s readers, not despite their numerous, sometimes explicitly, sometimes implicitly, polemic or apologetic passages, but just because of the time-bound and situational elements in his investigations. He was well aware of this aspect of his investigations, but in his writing he kept it under tight control—especially in his non-Hungarian publications.

the more radical interpretations is that a disciple is forbidden to “set up a school” during his master’s lifetime. Cf. Goldziher’s comment on Fleischer’s death, cited above, on p. 93.  T 214 (April 11, 1897). At the time of the writing of Muh. St. II, Brill was still alive; in any case, in the passage on Hadith in Muh. St. II (48 - 49, in particular, on which the given passage in Vorlesungen, 47 is based), no rabbinic parallel is cited.  In the cited passage of the diary Goldziher refers only to his Vorlesungen, 47—see the gist of it in Ch. V, “The politics of comparativism.”  “Renan mint orientalista,” 510; Renan als Orientalist, 67.

Conclusion

241

Efforts to present Goldziher as a paradigm of social, psychological, or religious types are liable to fail.⁹¹⁸ Goldziher’s personality, thinking, and life were full of contradictions, and he wrestled with himself throughout his life. We encounter such contradictions between his ego-documents and publications, and between his ego-documents themselves. We do not have to choose between a “true self” revealed in these personal and private forms of expression, and his “dissimulative” professional works and impressions left on his acquaintances. Communication and behavior bear a measure of situationism: there are different emphases depending on context, audience, etc. It is up to the reader of his works and papers to judge whether the detectable dissonances and contradictions fit in with situationism. Did the conflicting forces and loyalties in him fuse into a stable and harmonious whole? The answer to this question is also a matter of personal opinion. I tend to answer it in the negative; but his predicament no doubt produced a grand and stimulating oeuvre and a uniquely documented self-portrait. Two dominant, parallel types of questions that intrigued Goldziher are discernible in his oeuvre (both of which have already been recognized in Goldziherology), and both are connected with his biography in numerous ways. One is cultural-religious interaction and accommodation between Islam and other religions and civilizations; the other is cultural and religious mechanisms through which traditional Islam and Judaism could cope with “alien” cultures and influences, preserving a critical amount of their historically evolved identity. Austria-Hungary, one of the contact zones of East and West (Europe and Asia), and of East European and West European Judaism in particular, was a veritable laboratory for both types of explorations. In addition, Goldziher contrasted Muslim circles that he joyously encountered in situ and considered authentic parts of the traditional Islamic community with other contemporaneous Muslim circles in which he witnessed and identified signs of disintegration and “corruption.” Before and after his Near Eastern tour, in his Jewish environment in Europe, particularly in Central Europe, he had a chance to observe more advanced stages of a similar disintegration from close up. In Hungary this disintegration became an established sociological and political fact already after the Jewish Congress of 1868 – 1869. Goldziher was horrified by the resemblance of this organizational

 If we were to look for some broader conceptual framework to grasp and describe many personal and biographic aspects of the Goldziher-phenomenon, ressentiment (of Goldziher and of his environment) is a notion that commends itself to us; and it is worthwhile to turn to socialpsychological-philosophical (and to some extent, religious) studies (initiated by Nietzsche) related to this concept.

242

Conclusion

split to schisms in Church history. He attributed both processes of disintegration mostly to Western influences. A session devoted to Goldziher in a conference on Hungarian Jewish scholarship in 2012 in Budapest was titled “I. Goldziher: A lonely man of faiths.” He was loyal and faithful to a credo that he formulated for himself as a “prophetic” Jew and a neophyte of science; yet he was fundamentally lonely and alienated from his most immediate “natural” communities in Hungary (except his family): progressive Judaism, academia, and fellow citizens or “nation.” There was no shortage of maverick intellectuals and geniuses in Central Europe who, if not outright pariahs, identified with “historical” (or other, more or less imagined) communities more readily than with real and concrete ones. “Colossal egos” sometimes have a colossal sense and need for community and transindividual values. Jewish Gemeingefühl and Islamic ijma were Goldziher’s “apperception” of related ideas of Savigny, liberal Protestant theology and medieval Judaism and Islam, as apperceived and mediated to him by Brill, Geiger, and others. Goldziher’s father wanted to save his son through scholarship; the son wanted to purify monotheism (and the world) through scholarship. The stakes for him were very high, but Goldziher did not have messianic pretensions, in pursuing scholarship or otherwise. He did have Jewish “reform” hopes, but he was rejected—which led him to transform his aspirations: to broaden them and lower his expectations. Such transformations are not without precedents in Jewish history. Goldziher’s main diary gives a detailed, nuanced, and emotional account of his strong Jewish education, which partly explains his somewhat idiosyncratic Judaism.⁹¹⁹ The first among his revered teachers (and the last among his private tutors), Moses Wolf Freudenberg taught him Jewish subjects for five to six hours per day for four years (from ages 11 to 15). Their daily study schedule started with Baḥya ibn Paquda’s Duties of the Heart. Goldziher’s general worldview, which was a weightily religious worldview, remained impregnated with the spirit of that book all through his life. Freudenberg was Orthodox with some maskilic leanings as evidenced by his emphasis on the Bible and grammar. During these years they studied the Prophets, Psalms, and Job.⁹²⁰ It is astounding to see to what extent Goldziher became, and remained, a prophetic, Psalmic, and Jobian Jew.

 See, for example, the custom he introduced in his family to bless the Swedish King Oscar II every year on Pesah (T 151– 152).  T 20. Goldziher raised his children religiously on the Prophets and the Psalms: T 111; his letter to Nöldeke from 1904, mentions his “Hiobsleben”: Simon, Ignác Goldziher, 257; cf. Sebestyén, “Goldziher Ignác, az ember,” 28.

Appendices I The Main Venues of Goldziher’s Life in Budapest

Figure 1: Map of Budapest: 1. Faculty of Humanities of the University of Budapest, prior to 1911; 2. Pest Neolog Jewish Community Headquarters; 3. Hungarian Academy of Sciences; 4. The Rabbinical Seminary; 5. Goldziher’s home, Holló u. 4.; 6. Faculty of Humanities of the University of Budapest, after 1911; 7. Dohány Synagogue: the emblematic Neolog synagogue, opened in 1859.

II Goldziher’s Will (The facsimile of this document was published by Scheiber, “Goldziher Ignác,” in idem, Folklór és tárgytörténet, III, [557] [559])

https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285-013

244

Appendices

‫שויתי יהוה לנגדי תמיד‬ Végrendeletem Életem szomorú eseményei tárgytalanokká tették mindazon rendelkezéseket, melyeket előbbi években tettem. A kegyetlen sors elragadta mellőlem anyámat, testvéreimet. Az én felejthetetlen kedves Misi fiam mult év május 31.én a budapesti jogtudományi facultás állapotainak esett áldozatul. Hárman vagyunk; kedves nőm, Károly fiam és magam. Ha meghalok, kérem barátaimat, ne hagyják el a két lelket, melyet a Gondviselés nékem meghagyott és a kik mellől az Ő akarata elszólít. Vagyoni viszonyaimban nincs miről intézkednem. Ha fiam nagykorúsága előtt érne utól a halál, gyámjául kedves nőm legidősebb testvérét rendelem. Kérek mindenkit, ki valamire becsült az életben, járjon fiam kezére és kövessen el mindent, hogy választott pályáján boldoguljon. Én martyr-életet folytattam itt a hazában. Nyolcz ízben álltam ellen 1875 óta a külföldön való, nagy becsülettel járó meghívásoknak. Itthon maradtam és kimondhatatlanul szenvedtem. Legyen legalább fiamnak némi jutalma azon méltatlanságok fejében, melyeket atyján érdemtelenül elkövettek. Legyenek mindazok, kik szenvedéseimnek okozói voltak, meggyőződve, hogy ugy mint e pillanatban, ugy halálom órájában is rajtam elkövetett bűnük megbocsátása lesz a gondolatom. Talán nem is szolgálok rá arra a sok elismerésre, mely szenvedéseim könyvének hátsó lapjain van feljegyezve, ha az ő embertelen eljárásuk nem serkent arra, hogy az eszmények művelésében keressek kárpótlást azon kegyetlen szenvedésekért, melyeket reám mértek. De tegyék jóvá Károly fiamon, a mit rajtam vétkeztek. Könyvtáramról külön rendelkezem. Irataim közt találhatók önéletrajzi feljegyzéseim 1900-ig. Ezeket nézzék át nőm és gyermekem és a tőlük méltónak itélt bizalmas barátaim. Belátásukra bízom, valjon a nyilvánosságra óhajtják-e hozni e szivem vérével irt lapokat. Temetésemre nézve volna némi kivánságom. Kérem barátaimat, gondoskodjanak róla, hogy ádáz ellenségeim—mert volt ilyen és hihetetlen, hogy milyen körben—ne járjanak közben temetésem körül. Koporsóm fölött jó barátaim a 23. zsoltáréneket mondják el, ugyanezzel váljanak el koporsómtól. Sírom kövére e zsoltárének 4. versét irassák fel az eredeti héber nyelven. Gyermekem tudja, mily helye volt e zsoltárének szent szavainak lelki életemben. Gyermekkorom óta kisért és vigasztalt az élet minden viszontagságain keresztül és a győzelem érzetét csepegtette lelkembe minden rosszakaró rosszakarata felett.

II Goldziher’s Will

245

Barátaimnak itt a hazában és a külföldön utolsó órámban is hálát adok szeretetükért, mely lelkemet táplálta és fenntartotta. Budapesten 1901. szeptember 10. éjjele ‫במוצאי יום הכפור‬. Goldziher Ignác Sirfeliratom héber részét ide mellékelem Goldziher Ignác [Translation:] ⁹²¹‫שויתי יהוה לנגדי תמיד‬ My Will Sad events of my life turned all wills that I made in previous years irrelevant by now.⁹²² Grim fate has taken away my mother and siblings. On May 31, last year my dear, unforgettable son Misi became a victim of the prevailing conditions at the Law Faculty of Budapest [University].⁹²³ There are three of us: my dear wife, my son Károly, and myself. I ask my friends not to forsake the two souls left to me by Providence, from whom I am called away by His will [when I die]. As for my possessions I have nothing to dispose of. If death overtakes me before my son reaches adulthood,⁹²⁴ I appoint the oldest brother of my dear wife as his guardian. I ask everyone who have held me in respect in life, to lend him a hand and to make every effort for him to succeed in his chosen pro-

 Ps. 16:8. Cf. T 91. Goldziher uses the Divine Name (the Tetragrammaton) in this citation— traditionalist Jews refrain from using this name in writing.  Ormos, “Goldziher’s Mother Tongue,” 236, n. 159 raises the question of whether Goldziher wrote any other will after this one. Currently no other will is known to have been written by him, either after or before this one.  Miksa Adolf Goldziher (born 1880) died on May 31, 1900; he was buried the next day. On him and possible reasons for his suicide, see Ormos,”The Correspondence of Ignaz Goldziher and Max Herz,” 188 – 189; on other details and the funeral, see [Anon.], “Villám csapás a derült égből.” When Goldziher purchased the grave plot for his son, he pre-purchased another one next to it for himself and his wife (Laura, née Mittler) (1856 – 1925) ([Anon.], “A nagy gyász körül,” 7). The Goldziher couple and their two sons (Miksa and Károly [1881– 1955]) are buried next to each other, in a family grave, in the biggest Jewish cemetery of Budapest (a Neolog one), in Kozma Street (plot II, row 1, grave numbers 8, 8 A, 9). Ignaz Goldziher’s only grandchild, Sándor Ignác Goldziher (born to Károly from his second wife in 1922) as well as Sándor’s mother, perished in the Holocaust in Hungary in 1944.  When this will was written, in civil law adulthood started at reaching 24 years of age.

246

Appendices

fession. I conducted a martyr’s life in this homeland. Since 1875 I resisted highly prestigious invitations from abroad eight times. I remained at home and suffered unspeakably. At least my son should have some reward in return for the wrongdoings committed to his father undeservedly. All those who caused my sufferings should be assured that as much as now, forgiving their sins against me will be on my mind also in the hour of my death. Perhaps I would not have earned all those honors recorded on the last pages of the book of my sufferings,⁹²⁵ had not their inhumane treatment urged me to seek compensation for the cruel sufferings that they inflicted on me in pursuing ideals. But they should make amends to my son Károly for what they sinned against me. I shall dispose of my library separately.⁹²⁶ My autobiographic notes up to 1900 will be found among my papers.⁹²⁷ They should be examined by my wife and child and those intimate friends whom they deem worthy. I leave it to their discretion whether they wish to make public these leaves which were written with my own heart’s blood. I would have some wishes concerning my funeral. I ask my friends to make sure that my sworn enemies—there were such and it is incredible in what circles⁹²⁸—do not interfere in my funeral. My good friends should recite Psalm 23 over my coffin, and should depart from my coffin with the same.⁹²⁹ On my tomb-

 Goldziher probably hints here at his diary, but it is unclear what records of his honours are meant and whether these pages are extant.  Currently we have no knowledge about such a will; see Ormos, “Goldziher’s Mother Tongue,” 236 – 237, n. 159.  The diary has only a one-page summary about the year 1901, written probably in Autumn or Winter 1901 (T 230), after the will was written. From May 1902 Goldziher returned to writing regular entries.  Probably Vilmos Bacher, Goldziher’s nemesis, is meant. On their relationship, see Ch. III, at the end of the section “Sense of superiority,” and Ch. VIII, “Immanuel Löw.” In a summer vacation in Belgium Goldziher was plagued by the nightmare that if he died there, Bacher would come over from a nearby resort to eulogize him; T 145 (August 18, 1892).  Mourners were able to pay respect to Goldziher lying on his bier in his apartment for two days before he was buried, and—following his will—every visitor recited Ps. 23 (in Hebrew and/ or in Hungarian) ([Anon.], “A nagy gyász körül,” 7). Lajos Blau, Rector of the Rabbinical Seminary recited this Psalm at the ritual purification of the deceased (taharah) (ibid.); in the cemetery, it was Bernát Heller who recited it over the open grave ([Anon.], “Zsidó temetés az Akadémiából,” 3). See also Ormos, “Goldziher’s Mother Tongue”, 237, n. 159. Goldziher heard his father reciting verses of this Psalm on his deathbed (T 73). According to another passage of the diary, Goldziher “prayed” with verses from this Psalm (T 138; May 7, 1892). In his eulogy at Kaufmann’s funeral (in 1899) Goldziher recalled how meaningful Ps. 23:4 was for the deceased (Silberfeld, “Apró képek Goldziher életéből”).

III On Scheiber’s Edition of Goldziher’s Diary

247

stone verse 4 of this Psalm should be written in its original language. My child knows what place the holy words of this psalm did occupy in my spiritual life. It accompanied me since my childhood, consoled me through all vicissitudes of life, and instilled in my soul a sense of triumph over the malice of all malicious people. I am grateful to my friends in my home country and abroad, even in my last hour, for their affection that maintained and nurtured my soul. In Budapest, night of September 10, 1901, ‫במוצאי יום הכפור‬.⁹³⁰ I attach the Hebrew part of my epitaph⁹³¹

Ignác Goldziher Ignác Goldziher

III On Scheiber’s Edition of Goldziher’s Diary The autograph manuscript of Goldziher’s Diary (the Tagebuch, edited by Alexander Scheiber) was acquired by the Avicenna Institute of Middle Eastern Studies in Piliscsaba (Hungary) in 2020 from Alexander Scheiber’s daughter. I had the opportunity to examine a digital copy of the manuscript at the Institute. The manuscript consists of 661 numbered pages.⁹³² More than a few of the pages were in secondary use: Goldziher sometimes wrote his diary-entries on the blank side of type-written or other mimeographed documents. On the other hand, there are indications in the diary that (partly at least) it was originally kept in and assembled from separate fascicles.⁹³³ Currently most of the pages of the manuscript are detached from each other. The size of the pages is about 17 cm width, and 21 cm length. Numerous documents and clippings are inserted between the pages or pasted up on them. A limited comparison of the manuscript with the printed diary (Tagebuch) published by Scheiber yields that, generally speaking, the edition offers a relia-

 In Hebrew: “after the termination of Yom Kippur [the Day of Atonement].”  The attachment (as well as the autograph of the will itself) is not extant.  The numbering is made with a pencil, apparently by Goldziher’s son Károly, the custodian of his father’s literary estate. Below I will use the abbreviation “ms” for the manuscript, and the number following it denotes the page number in the manuscript.  See Goldziher’s cross-reference on T 243 (ms 509): “(Vgl. dieses Heft 89/b).” The reference was to the text on T 234 (ms 490). Scheiber’s remark (“Előszó,” 6) that Goldziher kept the diary on “separate leaves, on half-sheets cut out from all sorts of places” therefore seems to be imprecise.

248

Appendices

ble text. Nevertheless, the edition suffers from numerous errors and flaws of different order. It is my purpose below to survey these flaws, in order to promote a discussion of the possible need for a new edition of the Diary. In the printed edition no philological information is provided on the manuscript, nor are the editorial principles spelled out, except a brief remark on orthography and transliteration (T 11). Some basic informations are provided selectively.⁹³⁴ The edition does not indicate the original pagination of the diary. There is a lack of clarity about and consistency in the use of some editorial symbols and techniques. For instance, the technical sign of three dots in the edition is indiscriminately used for very different purposes.⁹³⁵ Similarly, the use of brackets in the edition is unclear and left unexplained.⁹³⁶ There are errors, inaccuracies,⁹³⁷ and omissions⁹³⁸ in the published edition. Sometimes the chronological order of the entries in the autograph is changed by the editor (sometimes not),

 Scheiber notes (“Előszó,” 6) that “[t]here are some mutilations in the Diary. This [!] was cut out by Mrs. Goldziher. One of them is the passage on the marriage, the other where he may have reported about the suicide of his elder son, Miksa.” In his edition Scheiber indicates the first mutilation (T 90) but not the second.  Three dots in the edition sometimes denote words that were illegible for the transcriber of the manuscript: e. g. T 88 (ms 162), 180 (ms 373); in other instances they denote similar graphic signs applied by Goldziher himself in the manuscript for various purposes: e. g. T 160 (ms 332), 212 (ms 442), 264 (ms 552). In other cases (such as T 287, ms 607; T 311, ms 655; on T 305 three times) three dots are used to indicate omissions by the editor in his citation of clippings inserted in the manuscript.  On T 17 we find three dots in brackets to render the space that Goldziher left in the manuscript for a date to be filled in eventually (which did not happen) (ms 4). On T 90 (ms 167) we read: “[bin],” where brackets indicate editorial emendation and addition.  Three examples: (1) Maybe as a result of editorial emendation, on T 36 the date in the title of the entry is “1868 – 73,” instead of “1868 – 74,” as in the manuscript (ms 48). (2) On T 208 we read “ügenhören” instead of “Lügenhören” (ms 436). (3) On T 296 we read “Reschofsky” instead of “Reschofski” (ms 623).  Four examples: (1) the date “1. April” is omitted in the printed edition before the first entry in 1904 (T 234, ms 491); (2) a whole sentence is omitted in the published edition on T 307 (May 21; ms 646); (3) a date (“3.–30. Sept.”) is omitted in the edition (T 310, ms 653; before “Erholungsaufenthalt…”). As a consequence, the passage is misdated; (4) we learn from Sándor Fodor (1941– 2014, Head of Department of Semitic Philology and Arabic at the University of Budapest after Czeglédy, 1984– 2011), who helped Scheiber in the editorial work, that some critical remarks on the short-lived, communist Hungarian Soviet Republic (in 1919) were deleted by Scheiber from the edited text, without indicating it; Fodor, “A hebraisztika csúcsteljesítménye,” 219 – 220; Ormos,”Goldziher’s Mother Tongue,” 236, n. 159 (the Diary was published by Brill, but printed in Hungary; Scheiber had reasons to be wary of some negative consequences if the passage was left in its place, e. g. that “censors” might intervene). The omitted portion (T 313, ms 657; before the entry on September 1, 1919) is a significant and interesting 20-lines long passage.

III On Scheiber’s Edition of Goldziher’s Diary

249

without registering the fact.⁹³⁹ Remarks in the manuscript that do not form an integral part of the main text of the diary yet contain relevant information, are ignored by the editor, and not recorded in any way.⁹⁴⁰ Corrections by Goldziher himself in his text, found in almost every page of the manuscript, are unmarked in the edition, despite the fact that the words or sentences changed or deleted by Goldziher are often legible. Goldziher inserted numerous clippings and other documents into his diary. These are often important and relevant additions to the diary and form an integral part of it, although occasionally (when not pasted) it can not be ascertained whether Goldziher inserted them in their current place in the manuscript. Scheiber’s editorial “policy” vis-à-vis these documents is erratic. Occasionally Goldziher refers to these documents in the text of the Diary; in some cases they are still found in the manuscript (as pasted clippings) and they are cited or at least bibliographic information is given on them in the edition⁹⁴¹; in other cases the edition provides no information on their whereabouts.⁹⁴² In some instances the documents (clippings) are still found (pasted) in the manuscript and Scheiber indicates them and cites them (in full or part) in the edition, despite the fact that Goldziher does not mention them.⁹⁴³ There are interesting documents inserted in the manuscript which are also not mentioned by Goldziher in the diary and glossed over by the editor.⁹⁴⁴

 For some reason the manuscript (ms 487– 489) brings the entry on September 1902 after the entry on November 1, 1903. The printed edition (T 232– 233) corrects the chronological disorder without noting the change. On the other hand, on T 203 (ms 424) the entry on “27.–30. September” appears after the entry on “1. October,” without any editorial change of the chronological disorder.  Three examples: (1) on T 103 Goldziher recollects the tragic fate of his in-law Emma Löffler. Next to this passage in the manuscript (ms 196) there is a note in the margin (apparently by Goldziher himself): “Juni 1888,” probably indicating the date of her death; (2) Goldziher reports (T 264) about an anonymous defamatory letter that he received in the wake of a scandalous comprehensive exam at the Rabbinical Seminary, and gives its location in his files. Next to this passage in the manuscript (ms 553), on the margin we read a note (written with pencil), obviously by Károly Goldziher: “I destroyed it […]”; (3) at the end of the diary (ms 661) there is a biographic and bibliographic note by Goldziher on his ancestor Moyses Hamburger (along with a note with pencil by Károly Goldziher).  T 305 – 306 (Sylvesternacht, 1918); 275 (March 6, 1913), n. 455.  T 297 (May 2 and 7, 1917).  T 281 (1914); 295 (January 20, 1917).  Two such documents should be mentioned here. One is the invitation of Minister Trefort in 1875, with Goldziher’s comments three months later (cf. T 77; the document is inserted after ms 133). The other is the bar-mitzvah speeches of Goldziher’s two sons, and their accounts of these

250

Appendices

IV Immanuel Löw’s Letter to Goldziher, October 6, 1889 (Library and Information Centre of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, GIL/26/ 09/016) Szeged 1889 okt. 6. Kedves Barátom, Szinte vártam kérdését, és ha nem tűnt volna úgy fel, mint a qui s’excuse …, úgy be se várva feleltem volna reá. Győrött a mint elkezdettünk beszélgetni, mert az egész barátságos eszmecsere akart lenni, a trencséni rabbi, kit a győri Szliácsról ösmert és meginvitált à la Frankel s nach bewährten Mustern felvetette a kérdést, hogy az urak a ‫ ש"ע‬alapján állanak-e? Erre hosszabb tanakodás esett melynek eredményeül az a határozat mondatott ki, hogy: a haláchai irodalom és annak codificatiói, s különösen a ‫ ש"ע‬és kiegészítői szerint intézendők a zsidóság vallási ügyei. Ha nem akartunk hazudni, úgy ezt ki kellett mondani, mert tényleg úgy áll a dolog, hogy bizonyos kivételekkel, amelyekhez hasonlók s terjedelműek az orthodoxiánál is vannak, a haláchai irodalom alapján állunk. Vallástörténeti gutachtenjaiban Löw Lipót is mindig ezen az alapon állott, practicus tevékenységében pedig Geiger is tényleg ez alapon működött. Nem ment a reformhoz Berlinbe, mert nem akarta elejéről kezdeni a históriát, mert ahhoz sokkal hívőbb nemzedék kell, mint a jelenlegi zsidóság. Históriai tény, hogy a halácha irányadó nálunk. Egy széfer thóra, mely a ‫ש"ע‬ intézkedéseinek nem felel meg, nem használtatik és mikor Geigernél vacsoráltunk, a kisasszonynak a “tejesre” külön abroszon terítettek és esketés s getnél is a halácha szerint járt el. Ez a históriai fejlés jelen állapota, melyet nem lehet tagadni. Minden átmeneti kor magával hoz bizonyos inconsequentiákat, amelyeket az oldalt álló szemlélő legjobban lát, mert tisztán eszményi álláspontra helyezkedhetik, anélkül hogy a praxis feszélyezné. Ebben a helyzetben van Ön s ezért találja oly feltűnőnek, ha {ha}⁹⁴⁵ a históriai tényeket nem lehet eltagadni. Különben nem mondok le arról a reményről, hogy egyszer Pesten megint otthon találom s akkor megértjük egymást.

bar-mitzvah celebrations (held in early July 1893 in Goldziher’s native town Székesfehérvár), written to be inserted in the diary (cf. T 161– 162; the document is inserted after ms 333).  This word is repeated in the letter and should be deleted.

IV Immanuel Löw’s Letter to Goldziher, October 6, 1889

251

Sajnálattal hallom, hogy családjában baj van: hogy nálunk is nagy baj van, azt bizonyosan hallotta már, azért nem is írok róla. Mult héten már Pestre indulóban voltam, de el kellett halasztanom, az utazást. Szívélyesen köszöntöm, igaz híve Löw Imm[…] [Translation] Szeged, October 6, 1889 My Dear Friend, I almost expected your question, and unless there were an appearance of qui s’excuse …,⁹⁴⁶ I would have answered it even before the arrival [of your letter]. Already at the start of our conversation in Győr⁹⁴⁷—it was meant to be an utterly friendly dialogue—the rabbi from Trencsén,⁹⁴⁸ known to the rabbi from Győr⁹⁴⁹ from Szliács⁹⁵⁰ and invited by him, raised the question à la Frankel, following proven patterns, whether the gentlemen stand on the basis of the ‫ש"ע‬

 “Qui s’excuse s’accuse”: who excuses himself accuses himself. It seems that in the letter to which Löw responds here, Goldziher put questions on the declaration of the rabbinic forum mentioned below, and perhaps also challenged him.  Ten Hungarian rabbis (among them Löw), with various degrees of openness to religious reforms, convened between August 13 and 15, 1889, in Győr (Western Hungary), to discuss various issues, among them plans for convening a wider assembly of Hungarian rabbis in the future. Correspondences of the participants prior to the conference clearly imply, rather than explicitly tell, that fostering the reunification of Hungarian Jewry (after the split in the wake of the Hungarian Jewish Congress of 1868 – 1869) was one of the aims of the gathering. However, this was stated explicitly later, in the last part (the draft communiqué for the Jewish press) of the Protocols of the conference: “There was an in-depth discussion on denominational matters, especially on possible ways of restoring the unity of Hungarian Jewry and establishing its unified organization.” See the edited and published version of communiqué: “[Report on the Rabbinic conference held in Győr].” I thank Dr. Gábor Schweitzer for sharing with me a copy of the protocols, which is in the holdings of the Hungarian Jewish Museum and Archives; see also Schweitzer, “A haladó/neológ rabbiság útkeresése a 19 – 20. század fordulóján,” 132– 141, esp. 139 – 141.  Mór Diamant (1838 – 1913) served as rabbi in the Neolog community of Trencsén (Trenčín, today in Slovakia) from 1883 until his death.  Gyula Fischer (1861– 1944) served as rabbi in in the Neolog community of Győr between 1887 and 1898. Later he served as rabbi in Prague and Budapest.  Sliač, today in Slovakia, is a small spa town.

252

Appendices

[Shulchan Arukh]?⁹⁵¹ A longer deliberation ensued and concluded with the resolution that Jewish religious matters should be settled according to halakhic literature and its codifications, in particular the ‫ ש"ע‬and its companions.⁹⁵² If we did not want to lie, we had to declare this, since with some exceptions —and Orthodoxy also have similar ones and to a similar extent—we truly stand on the footing of halachic literature. Leopold Löw also followed this same principle in his religious-historical expert opinions [on halakhic matters], and in fact the same was true for the practical [rabbinic] activities of Geiger. He [Löw] did not go to the Reform in Berlin,⁹⁵³ because he did not want to start the story all over again, since for it [i. e., for Jewish reform] a generation is needed that is much more believing than contemporary Jewry.⁹⁵⁴  Views of Zacharias Frankel (1801– 1875), founder and rector of the Breslau Rabbinical Seminary, on the origins of the “Oral Law” were unclear to his contemporaries, and his loyalty to the halakhic tradition was questioned by traditionalists—see already [Rapp], “Offene Anfrage”; cf. Brämer, “Jüdische ‚Glaubenswissenschaft’,” 85 – 90. In Hungary the “Shulchan Arukh” became a shibboleth and a battle cry for Ortodoxy; in their struggle against Neologs it became the watchword for loyalty to tradition; see sessions XVI–XIX (February 3 – 8, 1869) of the Hungarian Jewish Congress according to the Protocols of the Congress: Ungarisch israelitischer Congress, esp. sessions XVI, 3, 13, 16 – 17, 20; XVII, 5, 11– 12, 17, 22; XVIII, 4– 5, 7, 9 – 10, 12, 20; XIX, 18 – 19, 23 – 35, 37– 39.  According to paragraph 4 of the protocols: “M. Diamant proposes to the rabbinical conference to specify its position vis-à-vis the Shulchan Arukh, and to declare that in the organization of Jewish communities and their life the halakhic religious literature and its codifications, notably the Shulchan Arukh and its continuators should be considered to be as our guides (tekintendők irányadóknak). Accepted.” The draft communiqué included in the protocols, as well as its edited and published version (“Report on the Rabbinic conference held in Győr”), do not report about this resolution; instead, the consultation about ways to reunite Hungarian Jewry is mentioned in these—see n. 947 above. The connection between the two is clear in light of the previous footnote.  In 1871 Moritz Lazarus invited Leopold Löw to a teaching position of the Hochschule für die Wissenschaft des Judentums in Berlin (this institution, opened in the following year, was officially a non-aligned academic institution, but in fact it served largely as a school for training of Reform rabbis). Löw declined the offer; see Schindler, "‫"עמנואל לעף‬, 316. Relying on two reports in the general press in Hungary (from 1871 and 1911), the recent, erudite biography of I. Löw by Hidvégi (“Löw Immánuel élete,” 12) states (without referencing to these reports) that L. Löw was invited to be the rector of the institution. Due to a lack of unequivocal archival evidence I doubt the correctness of the latter reports. In the biography of his father, I. Löw (Löw and Kulinyi, A szegedi zsidók, 206) also mentions the invitation to the Hochschule, without mentioning rectorship.  I am not aware of similar ideas expressed in L. Löw’s writings similar to this interesting report or assumption about motivations for his decision, but we find such views among later generations of Neolog rabbis, e. g. Goldziher’s contemporary Ármin Perls (1853 – 1914, rabbi of

V Goldziher’s Letter to David Simonsen (Copenhagen), April 15, 1913

253

It is a historical fact that the halakha is our guide in our circles.⁹⁵⁵ A sefer Tora that does not meet the requirements of the ‫ ש"ע‬is not used [in religious services]; and when we had dinner at Geiger, the miss was served “dairy” on a separate tablecloth; in weddings and get [divorce] he also proceeded according to halakha. This is the current state of historical development, and it can not be denied. Every transitional age brings with itself certain inconsistencies, which are best recognized by observers standing at the side, since they can take a purely idealistic vantage point without being bothered by practical matters. This is your position and this is why you find it so remarkable if historical facts can not be denied. By the way, I do not give up hope that eventually I will again find you at home and then we will understand one another. I hear with regret that you have trouble in your family; that we have great trouble too, you have certainly heard, and therefore I do not write on this. Last week I was already about to leave for Pest but I had to postpone the journey. With heartful greetings, faithfully yours Löw Imm[…]

V Goldziher’s Letter to David Simonsen (Copenhagen), April 15, 1913 (The Royal Library (Det Kongelige Bibliotek) in Copenhagen, David Simonsen Archives/Letters to/from David Simonsen/Correspondents/G/Go/Goldziher, Ignaz/ 0007; http://www5.kb.dk/letters/judsam/2011/mar/dsa/object12480/en/ [accessed December 7, 2021]) Budapest 15. April 1913 Sehr geehrter Freund! Herzlich danke ich für Ihre ehrende Aufforderung.⁹⁵⁶ Jedoch werde ich sie kaum verwirklichen können. Ich glaube nicht, daß ein Bedürfnis für die Vereinigung meiner jüdischer Arbeiten vorhanden ist. Sie sind

Pécs), whose position (expressed three years prior to the present letter) was that “Reform can be made only out of faith to faith,” and that “the present century, with its cold faith, is incapable of and unreceptive to” reform-attempts. Perls, “A reformált izr. egyház,” 121– 122.  Hungarian progressive Jewry (Neologs) are meant.  In his letter to Goldziher from April 9, 1913 (GIL/39/12/02), Simonsen proposed Goldziher to collect and publish his past studies pertaining to Judeo-Arabic culture.

254

Appendices

von seiten unserer glaubensgenössischen Gelehrten bisher völlig ignoriert worden, bis auf sehr wenige Ausnahmen, (etwa S. Poznański und I. Friedländer), so daß ich nicht glaube, daß es ein ‫ מנין‬Menschen⁹⁵⁷ gäbe, die überhaupt Notiz von einer solchen Sammlung nehmen würden. Im Jahre 1907 habe ich das Ma’ānī al-nafs bearbeitet und in den Exkursen manches gesagt, was in die jüdische Philosophie einschneidet. Der Band ist völlig ignoriert worden.⁹⁵⁸ Und so alles andere, was ich auf diesem Gebiete mit Hintansetzung von Studien, die in ihrem Kreise sehr beachtet werden, veröffentlicht habe. Für wen soll nun die von Ihnen beantragte Sammlung veranstaltet werden? Ich glaube: es ist ein weiser Spruch ‫כשם שמצוה לומר דבר שנשמע כך מצוה שלא לומר דבר שלא נשמע‬.⁹⁵⁹ Nach Petersburg gehe ich nicht, aus dem Grunde, der in den Zeitungen zu lesen war.⁹⁶⁰ Ich habe nicht viel Gefallen daran, daß man aus einer so selbstverständlichen Sache in den Zeitungen viel Aufsehens machte. Das Affichieren war mir von frühester Jugend auf widerwärtig. Aber was kann vor den Zeitungen aufkommen? Alles Verkriechen nützt ihnen gegenüber nichts. Herzlichen Gruss von Ihrem ergebenen I. Goldziher

 Ten people.  Goldziher asked one of his promising students who studied in Paris at that time to encourage writing reviews of his edition; see Salamon Pál Osztern’s letter to him, May 6, 1908 (GIL/31/ 37/09). In that letter Osztern reveals that Hartwig Derenbourg asked him (before his death on April 12, 1908) to let Goldziher know that he almost completed a review of the work. Immanuel Löw praised Goldziher’s notes to this edition in a private letter to Goldziher, dated November 20, 1907 (GIL/26/09/102).  “[R. Ilea further stated in the name of R. Eleazar son of R. Simeon:] As one is commanded to say that which will be obeyed [lit. “heard”], so is one commanded not to say that which will not be obeyed” (bYevamot 65b and parallels). Explaining his unwillingness to write a comprehensive volume on contacts between Judaism and Islam (see Ch. III, “Estrangement from Jewish scholarship”), Goldziher applied the same Talmudic maxim to Israel Friedländer, to which the latter responded by referring to Prov. 3:27 (February 19, 1912 [GIL/11/09/29]).  See above, n. 604.

Bibliography A budapesti Királyi Magyar Tudomány-Egyetem tanrend(j)e a […] tanév […]. Bulletins of Budapest University, n.d. A Ferencz-József Országos Rabbiképző Intézet Értesítője a 1923/24-es tanévről. Budapest: n. p., 1924. Aberbach, David. “Zionist Patriotism in Europe, 1897 – 1942: Ambiguities in Jewish Nationalism.” The International History Review 31 (2009): 268 – 298. Ablonczy, Balázs. Keletre, magyar! A magyar turanizmus története [Go East! A History of Hungarian Turanism]. Budapest: Jaffa, 2016. Akbari, Suzanne Conklin. Idols in the East. European Representations of Islam and the Orient, 1100 – 1450. Ithaca and London: Cornell Univ. Pr., 2009. Alexander, Bernát. “Bánóczi József.” In Emlékkönyv Bánóczi Józsefnek születése hetvenedik évfordulójára [Memorial volume for J. Bánóczi on the occasion of his seventieth birthday], 1 – 38. Budapest: n.p., 1919. Ancselovits, Elisha. “The Prosbul – A Legal Fiction?” The Jewish Law Annual 19 (2011): 1 – 16. [Anon.]. “A képviselőház CDI. ülése” [The 401th session of the House of Representatives]. Budapesti Közlöny 5, no. 284 (1871): 6223. [Anon.]. “Review of: Goldziher, Der Mythos bei den Hebräern.” Egyetemes Philologiai Közlöny 1 (1877): 223 – 224. [Anon.]. “Zsidók az akadémián” [Jews at the academy]. Egyenlőség 9, no. 19 (1980): 6. [Anon.]. “Villám csapás a derült égből” [A bolt from the blue]. Egyenlőség 19, no. 22 (1900): 9. [Anon.]. “Events in 5673; July 1, 1912 to June 30, 1913.” The American Jewish Year Book [5674; Oct. 2, 1913, to Sept. 20, 1914] 15 (1914): 221 – 360. [Anon.]. “Goldziher Ignác dr. élete és működése” [The life and work of Dr. I. Goldziher]. Egyenlőség 36, no. 23 (1917): 10 – 12. [Anon.]. “A nagy gyász körül” [On the deep bereavement]. Egyenlőség 40, no. 46 (1921): 6 – 8. [Anon.]. “Zsidó temetés az Akadémiából” [Jewish funeral from the Academy]. Múlt és Jövő 11, no. 46 (1921): 3 – 4. [Anon.]. “Társulati ügyek” [Affairs of the Society]. Keleti Szemle 19 (1920 – 1922): 1 – 4 [separate pagination]. Apor, Éva, and István Ormos, eds. Goldziher Memorial Conference, June 21 – 22, 2000, Budapest, Oriental Collection, Library of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences. Budapest: MTA Könyvtára, 2005. Auerbach, Berthold. Briefe an seinen Freund Jakob Auerbach. Neuedition der Ausgabe von 1884, mit Kommentaren und Indices, edited by Hans Otto Horch. 3 vols. Berlin/ München/Boston: De Gruyter, 2015. “Az Országos Rabbiképző Intézet Nyilatkozata” [The proclamation of the National Rabbinical Seminary]. Egyenlőség 38, no. 3 (1919): 1 (A budapesti Ferencz József Országos Rabbiképző-Intézet Értesítője az 1918/1919, 1919/1920, 1920/1921 tanévekről, 4 – 5). Budapest: Neuwald Illés utódai, 1921. Bacher, Vilmos. “Az uj igazgató előterjesztése” [The proposal of the new director]. MZsSz 2 (1885): 545 – 550.

https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285-014

256

Bibliography

Baeck, Leo. “Hat das überlieferte Judentum Dogmen?” [1926] In Aus drei Jahrtausenden: Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen und Abhandlungen zur Geschichte des jüdischen Glaubens, by Leo Baeck, 12 – 27. Tübingen: Mohr, 1958. Baeck, Leo. “Helfer und Lehrer.” In Leo Baeck Werke, III (Wege im Judentum: Aufsätze und Reden), edited by Werner Licharz, 297 – 310. Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 1997 (original title: “Gedenkrede zur Erinnerung an die Kuratoren Albert Mosse, Paul Meyer und Max Weiß und den Dozenten Martin Schreiner”). Bahya ben Joseph ibn Paquda. Duties of the Heart. Edited and translated by Moses Hyamson. 2 vols. Jerusalem: Boys Town Jerusalem Publications, 1962. Balassa, József. “Munkácsi Bernát, a tudós és az ember” [B. Munkácsi, the scholar and the man]. Magyar Nyelvőr 67 (1938): 61 – 65. Ballagi, Aladár. Élő tanítások [Living Teachings]. Cegléd: “Volt tanítványai,” 1934. Ballagi, Mór. Tájékozás a theologia mezején [Orientation on the field of theology]. 2nd ed. Pest: Osterlamm Károly, 1863. Ballagi, Mór. A Biblia. Tholuck August után [The Bible. According to A. Tholuck]. Pest: Engel és Mandello, 1863. Ballagi, Mór. Bibliai tanulmányok [Biblical studies]. 2 vols. Pest: Engel és Mandello – Bartalits Imre, 1865 – 1868. Bamberger, Fritz. “Zunz’s Conception of History.” Proceedings of the American Academy for Jewish Research 11 (1941): 1 – 25. Bánóczi, József. “Ki volt Goldziher Ignác?” [Who was I. Goldziher?]. Egyenlőség 40, no. 46 (1921): 4. Becker, Carl Heinrich. “Ignaz Goldziher.” Der Islam 12 (1922): 214 – 222. Benke, István. “Egy pár szó a pesti ref. theologia beléletére vonatkozólag” [A few words concerning the internal life of the Calvinist Theological Seminary]. Protestans Egyházi és Iskolai Lap 15, no. 48 (1872): 1516 – 1518. Bíró, Judit. Magántanárok a pesti Tudományegyetemen, 1848 – 1952 [Habilitated lecturers at the University of Pest]. Budapest: Eötvös Loránd Tudományegyetem, 1990. Blau, Ludwig, and Miksa Klein, eds. Festschrift zum 50 jährigen Bestehen der Franz-JosefLandesrabbinerschule in Budapest, I. Budapest: n. p., 1927. Blidstein, Gerald (Yakov). ‫ד‬-‫[ סמכות ומרי בהלכת הרמב"ם; פירוש נרחב להלכות ממרים א‬Authority and Dissent in Maimonidean Law: A Comprehensive Commentary to Hilkhot Mamrim, Chapters 1 – 4]. Tel-Aviv: Hakibbutz Hameuchad, 2002. Bloch, Móric (=Ballagi, Mór). “Adalék a’ fölállítandó protestans istenészeti facultás alaprajzához” [Contribution to the plan of the Protestant theological faculty to be established]. Protestáns Egyházi és Iskolai Lap 7, no. 21 (1848): 642 – 648. Born, Robert, and Sarah Lemmen, eds. Orientalismen in Ostmitteleuropa. Diskurse, Akteure und Disziplinen vom 19. Jahrhundert bis zum Zweiten Weltkrieg. Bielefeld: transcript Verlag, 2014. Bödy [Bődy], Paul. Joseph Eötvös and the Modernization of Hungary, 1840 – 1870. A Study of Ideas of Individuality and Social Pluralism in Modern Politics. 2nd ed. Boulder: East European Monographs, distributed by Columbia Univ. Pr., New York, 1985. Bődy, Paul. Science Policies in Hungary (1867 – 1910) and the First Generation of Distinguished Scientists. Wien: Lit Verlag, 2017. Brämer, Andreas. Rabbiner Zacharias Frankel. Wissenschaft des Judentums und konservative Reform im 19. Jahrhundert. Hildesheim etc.: Olms, 2000.

Bibliography

257

Brämer, Andreas. “Samuel Holdheim and Zacharias Frankel: Comparative Perspectives.” In Redefining Judaism in an Age of Emancipation. Comparative Perspectives on Samuel Holdheim (1806 – 1860), edited by Christian Wiese, 209 – 227. Leiden: Brill, 2006. Brämer, Andreas. “Jüdische ‚Glaubenswissenschaft’ – Zacharias Frankels rechtshistorische Forschungen als Herausforderung der Orthodoxie.” In Die “Wissenschaft des Judentums.” Eine Bestandsaufnahme, edited by Thomas Meyer and Andreas Kilcher, 79 – 94. Paderborn: Wilhelm Fink, 2015. Brämer, Andreas. “Abraham Geiger – skeptischer Pionier einer Glaubenslehre des Reformjudentums?” Yearbook of the Maimonides Centre for Advanced Studies (2018): 207 – 229. Brentjes, Sonja. “Orthodoxy,” Ancient Sciences, Power, and the Madrasa (“College”) in Ayyubid and Early Mamluk Damascus. Berlin: Max-Planck-Institut für Wissenschaftsgeschichte, 1997 (preprints, no. 77). Bretschneider, Karl Gottlieb. Die Unzulässigkeit des Symbolzwangs in der evangelische Kirche. Leipzig: F. C. W. Vogel, 1841. Brugman, Jan. “Snouck Hurgronje’s Study of Islamic Law.” In Leiden Oriental Connections, 1850 – 1940, edited by Willem Otterspeer, 81 – 93. Leiden: Brill, 1989. Büchler, Sándor. “A Goldziherék családfájáról” [On the genealogy of the Goldzihers]. Múlt és Jövő 27 (1937): 336 – 339; 28 (1938): 18 – 20, 51 – 52, 82 – 83, 113 – 114, 152 – 153, 184 – 185. Carmilly-Weinberger, Moshe. ed. The Rabbinical Seminary of Budapest, 1877 – 1977. New York: Sepher-Hermon Press, 1986. Cassel, Selig. Magyarische Althertümer. Berlin: Veit, 1848. Chorin, Aron. Igereth Elassaph, oder Sendschreiben eines afrikanischen Rabbi an seinen Kollegen in Europa. Prag: M. J. Landau, 1826. Chorin, Aron. […] ‫ ציר נאמן‬/ Der treue Bothe an seine Religionsgenossen, gesendet von […]. Prag: n. p., 1831. Cohen, Boaz. “Testimonial Compulsion in Jewish Law” [1958]. In Jewish and Roman Law. A Comparative Study, by Boaz Cohen, 734 – 754. 2 vols. New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1966. Cohen, Hermann. “Ein Gruß der Pietät an das Breslauer Seminar” [1904]. In Hermann Cohens jüdische Schriften, by Hermann Cohen. 3 vols. Vol. II, 418 – 424. Berlin: Schwetschke & Sohn, 1924. Conrad, Joachim. Karl Heinrich Grafs Arbeit am Alten Testament. Studien zu einer wissenschaftlichen Biographie. Edited by Uwe Becker. Berlin/New York: De Gruyter, 2011. Conrad, Lawrence I. “The Dervish’s Disciple: On the Personality and Intellectual Milieu of the Young Ignaz Goldziher.” Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society (1990): 225 – 266. Conrad, Lawrence I. “The Pilgrim from Pest: Goldziher’s Study Tour to the Near East (1873 – 1874).” In Golden Roads: Migration, Pilgrimage, and Travel in Mediaeval and Modern Islam, edited by Ian Richard Netton, 110 – 159. Richmond: Curzon Pr., 1993. Conrad, Lawrence I. [Review of:] Peter Haber, Zwischen jüdischer Tradition und Wissenschaft, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, Third Series 17 (2007): 325 – 328. Conrad, Lawrence I. “Ignaz Goldziher on Ernest Renan: From Orientalist Philology to the Study of Islam.” In The Jewish Discovery of Islam, edited by Kramer, 137 – 180. Conrad, Lawrence I. “A New Volume of Hungarian Essays by Ignaz Goldziher.” Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, Third Series 17 (2007): 363 – 379.

258

Bibliography

Cook, Michael. “The Opponents of the Writing of Tradition in Early Islam.” Arabica 44 (1997): 437 – 523. Crone, Patricia. Roman, Provincial, and Islamic Law: The Origins of the Islamic Patronate. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987. Csekey, Sándor. “Ballagi Mór.” Református Egyház 7 (1955): 174 – 182. Czeglédy Károly (1914 – 1996). Budapest: ELTE Fonetikai Tanszék, 1997. Dabashi, Hamid. Post-Orientalism: Knowledge and Power in Time of Terror. New Brunswick and London: Transaction Publishers, 2008. Dénes, Iván Zoltán. Választott nemzet. Marczali Henrik élete és munkássága [Chosen nation. The life and work of H. Marczali]. Budapest: Balassi, 2022. Dévényi, Kinga. “Levelek, napló, emlékbeszéd: adalékok Goldziher Ignác és Vámbéry Ármin kapcsolatához” [Some letters, a diary and an obituary: on the relationship between Ignaz Goldziher and Armin Vambery]. Keletkutatás (2014): 101 – 113. Dévényi, Kinga. “Scholars in Private: On the Correspondence of Goldziher and Vámbéry.” The Arabist: Budapest Studies in Arabic 36 (2015): 35 – 45. Dévényi, Kinga, and Sabine Schmidtke. The Published Correspondences of Ignaz Goldziher. https://albert.ias.edu/handle/20.500.12111/7928. Efron, John M. German Jewry and the Allure of the Sephardic. Princeton and Oxford: Princeton Univ. Pr., 2016. Emon, Anver M., and Rumee Ahmed, eds. The Oxford Handbook of Islamic Law. Oxford: Oxford Univ. Pr., 2018. Engberts, Christiaan, and Herman Paul, eds. Scholarly Personae in the History of Orientalism, 1870 – 1930. Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2019. Engberts, Christiaan. “Orientalists at War. Personae and Partiality at the Outbreak of the First World War.” In Scholarly Personae in the History of Orientalism, 1870 – 1930, edited by Engberts and Paul, 172 – 192. Eötvös, József. A zsidók emancipációja [The emancipation of Jews]. Budapest: Magvető, 1981 [originally: Budapesti Szemle 1840, vol. II, 110 – 156]. Eötvös, József. Der Einfluss der herrschenden Ideen des 19. Jahrhunderts auf den Staat. 2 vols. Wien – Leipzig: Fr. Manz; Brockhaus, 1851 – 1854 (= A XIX. sz. uralkodó eszméinek befolyása az álladalomra [Vienna – Pest, 1851 – 1854]; The Dominant Ideas of the Nineteenth Century and Their Impact on the State. Translated and edited by D. Mervyn Jones, 2 vols. Boulder, Colorado: East European Monographs, 1996 – 1998). Eötvös, József. A nemzetiségi kérdés [The question of ethnicity]. Pest: Ráth Mór, 1865. Erdélyi, Mátyás. “A Keleti Kereskedelmi Akadémia és az orientalisták: tudomány, a gazdaság és a politika interakciója” [The Oriental Academy of Commerce and the orientalists: The interplay between academics, economics, and politics]. Korall, no. 80 (2020): 32 – 53. “Erster Jahresbericht der Gesellschaft zur Förderung der Wissenschaft des Judentums.” MGWJ 48 (1904): 52 – 64. Evri, Yuval. “Return to al-Andalus beyond German-Jewish Orientalism: Abraham Shalom Yahuda’s Critique of Modern Jewish Discourse.” In Modern Jewish Scholarship on Islam in Context; Rationality, European Borders, and the Search for Belonging, edited by Ottfried Fraisse, 337 – 354. Berlin/Boston: W. de Gruyter, 2018. Feichtinger, Johannes. “Komplexer k.u.k. Orientalismus: Akteure, Institutionen, Diskurse im 19. und 20. Jahrhunderts in Österreich.” In Orientalismen in Ostmitteleuropa, edited by Born and Lemmen, 31 – 63.

Bibliography

259

Fodor, Sándor. “A hebraisztika csúcsteljesítménye” [The climax of Hebraic scholarship]. In A könyvek hídja. Emlékfüzér Scheiber Sándorról [The bridge of books. A string of reminiscenses of Alexander Scheiber], edited by Péter Kertész, 218 – 221. Budapest: Urbis, 2005. Fraisse, Ottfried. Ignác Goldzihers monotheistische Wissenschaft: Zur Historisierung des Islam. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2014. Fraisse, Ottfried. “From Geiger to Goldziher: Historical Method and Its Impact on the Conception of Islam.” In Modern Jewish Scholarship in Hungary, edited by Turán and Wilke, 203 – 222. Frankel, Zacharias. “Über Reformen im Judenthume.” Zeitschrift für die religiösen Interessen des Judenthums 1 (1844): 3 – 27. Frankel, Zacharias. “Die Symptome der Zeit.” Zeitschrift für die religiösen Interessen des Judenthums 2 (1845): 3 – 21. Frojimovics, Kinga, Géza Komoróczy, Viktória Pusztai, and Andrea Strbik, eds. Jewish Budapest. Budapest: CEU Pr., 1999. Gángó, Gábor. “Towards the 1868/69 Jewish congress in Hungary: Minister Eötvös’s project of confessional autonomy and the Emancipation Act in 1867.” Jewish Culture and History 21 (2020): 226 – 239. Geiger, Abraham. “Die wissenschaftliche Ausbildung des Judenthums in den zwei ersten Jahrhunderten des zweiten Jahrtausends bis zum Auftreten des Maimonides.” Wissenschaftliche Zeitschrift für jüdische Theologie 1 (1835): 13 – 38, 151 – 168, 307 – 326. Geiger, Abraham. “Der Kampf christlicher Theologen gegen die bürgerliche Gleichstellung der Juden; namentlich mit Bezug auf Anton Theodor Hartmann.” Wissenschaftliche Zeitschrift für jüdische Theologie 1 (1835): 52 – 67; 340 – 357. Geiger, Abraham. “Heuchelei, die erste Anforderung an den jungen Rabbiner unserer Zeit.” Wissenschaftliche Zeitschrift für jüdische Theologie 1 (1835): 285 – 306. Geiger, Abraham. “Nachrichten. (Bonn, 10. September).” Wissenschaftliche Zeitschrift für jüdische Theologie 1 (1835): 457 – 462. Geiger, Abraham. “[Review article:] Karaische Litteratur.” Wissenschaftliche Zeitschrift für jüdischen Theologie 2 (1836): 93 – 125. Geiger, Abraham. “Nachrichten. (Wiesbaden).” Wissenschaftliche Zeitschrift für jüdischen Theologie 3 (1837): 293 – 302. Geiger, Abraham. “Die zwei verschiedenen Betrachtungsweisen. Der Schriftsteller und der Rabbiner” [1838]. Wissenschaftliche Zeitschrift für jüdischen Theologie 4 (1839): 321 – 333. Geiger, Abraham. “Die letzten zwei Jahre. Sendschreiben an einen befreundeten Rabbiner” [1840]. In Nachgelassene Schriften, I, by Abraham Geiger, 1 – 51. Geiger, Abraham. “Die nordfranzösische Exegeten-Schule im 12. Jahrhundert” [1841]. In ‫נטעי‬ […] ‫נעמנים‬, Sammlung aus alten schätzbaren Manuscripten, hrsg. S. L. Heilberg, 1 – 44. Breslau: H. Sulzbach, 1847. Geiger, Abraham. “Ansprache an meine Gemeinde” [1842]. In Nachgelassene Schriften, I, by Abraham Geiger, 52 – 112. Geiger, Abraham. “[Brief] an Jakob Auerbach, 18. April, 1842.” In Nachgelassene Schriften, V, by Abraham Geiger, 161 – 162. Geiger, Abraham. “[Brief] an M. A. Stern, 25. August, 1843.” In Nachgelassene Schriften, V, by Abraham Geiger, 167 – 170.

260

Bibliography

Geiger, Abraham. “[Brief] an D. Honigmann, 19. March, 1845.” In Nachgelassene Schriften, V, by Abraham Geiger, 177 – 180. Geiger, Abraham. Das Judentum und seine Geschichte. In zwölf Vorlesungen. Breslau: Schletter’schen Buchhandlung, 1864. Geiger, Abraham. Nachgelassene Schriften, hrsg. Ludwig Geiger. 5 vols. Berlin: Louis Gerschel, 1875 – 1878. Geiger, Abraham. “Nothwendigkeit und Maass einer Reform des jüdischen Gottesdienstes.” Nachgelassene Schriften, I, by Abraham Geiger, 203 – 229. n.d. Geiger, Abraham. “Einleitung in das Studium der jüdischen Theologie.” In Nachgelassene Schriften, II, by Abraham Geiger, 1 – 32. Geiger, Abraham. “Allgemeine Einleitung in die Wissenschaft des Judenthums.” In Nachgelassene Schriften, II, by Abraham Geiger, 33 – 245. Geiger, Abraham. “[Brief] an L. R. Bischoffsheim, 8. Okt., 1872.” In Nachgelassene Schriften, V, by Abraham Geiger, 346 – 353. Geiger, Ludwig, hrsg. Abraham Geiger. Leben und Lebenswerk. Berlin: G. Reimer, 1910. Geiger, Ludwig. “Einleitung.” In Nachgelassene Schriften, V, by Abraham Geiger, 107 – 139. Geréb, József. “Kármán Mór, az ember és a pedagógus” [M. Kármán, the man and the pedagogue]. MZsSz 47 (1930): 87 – 103. Geréby, György. “Dr Historian and Mr Divine.” In: Religio Academici, edited by Losonczi et al., 22 – 33. Gerelyes, Ibolya. “The Development of Hungarian Turcology in the Long Nineteenth Century.” In Orientalismen in Ostmitteleuropa, edited by Born and Lemmen, 87 – 104. Goitein, Shelomo Dov. "(1921–1901 ‫ פוזננסקי בשנים‬.‫ א‬.‫"גולדציהר לפי מכתביו )ממכתבי גולדציהר אל ש‬ [Goldziher according to his letters (From Goldziher’s letters to S. A. Poznanski between 1901 and 1921)]. In Ignace Goldziher Memorial Volume, I, edited by Samuel Lőwinger and Joseph Somogyi, Hebrew part, 3–23. Budapest: n. p., 1948. Goitein, Shelomo Dov. "(‫ גולדציהר‬.‫ י‬.‫[ "המדע והחיים )לזכרו של י‬The Science and the Life (To the Memory of J. J. Goldziher)]. Haaretz, June 23, 1950, 5. Goitein, Shelomo Dov. “[Review of:] Ignaz Goldziher Tagebuch by Alexander Scheiber.” Jewish Social Studies 41 (1979): 323 – 327. Golden, Peter B. “Khazar Studies: Achievements and Perspectives.” In The World of the Khazars. New Perspectives, edited by P. B. Golden, H. Ben-Shammai, and A. Róna-Tas, 7 – 57. Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2007. Goldziher, Ignaz. Sichat-Jiczchak (‫)שיחת יצחק‬, Abhandlung über Ursprung, Eintheilung und Zeit der Gebete. Pest: Johann Herz, 1862. Goldziher, Ignác, “A hittudósok kiváltságai a thalmud korában” [Privileges of Religious Scholars in the Talmudic Period]. Izraelita Közlöny 5 (1868): 253 – 255. Goldziher, Ignác. “Külföldi levelek” [Letters from Abroad]. Izraelita Közlöny 6 (1869): 67. Goldziher, Ignác. “Székesfehérvárott, 1869. Szeptemberben.” Izraelita Közlöny 6 (1869): 353. Goldziher, Ignác. “Mit nyertünk a beduin élet ismerete által az Ótestamentum megértésére nézve?” [What did we gain through the knowledge of Bedouin life for understanding the Old Testament?] [1869], MésJ, 243 – 248. Goldziher, Ignaz. Studien über Tanchūm Jerūschalmi. Leipzig: List & Franke, 1870. Goldziher, Ignác. “Herrn Rabbiner’s Löw neueste Leistung, I-III.” Izraelita Közlöny 7 (1870): 333, 339 – 340, 348 – 349.

Bibliography

261

Goldziher, Ignaz. “Zur Charakteristik G´elal ud-dîn us-Sujûṭī’s und seiner literarischen Thätigkeit” [1871]. GS I, 52 – 73 (translated as “Ignaz Goldziher on al-Suyūṭī. A Translation of his Article of 1871, with Additional Notes,” edited and translated by J. O. Hunwick and M. Barry; The Muslim World 68 (1978): 79 – 99). Goldziher, Ignaz. “Linguistisches aus der Literatur der muhammedanischen Mystik.” [1872]. GS I, 165 – 186. Goldziher, Ignác. “A nemzetiségi kérdés az araboknál” [The Question of Nationality Among the Arabs] [1873]. AésI, I, 1 – 64. Goldziher, Ignác. “Tanügyi reformok Egyiptomban” [Educational Reforms in Egypt]. Magyar Tanügy 2 (1873): 128 – 137, 201 – 208. Goldziher, Ignác. “A héber tanulmányok főiskoláinkban” [Hebrew studies in our institutes of higher learning]. Magyar Tanügy 2 (1873): 94 – 99. Goldziher, Ignác. “[Review of:] Die theologischen Studien in Oesterreich und ihre Reform […].” Magyar Tanügy 2 (1873): 472 – 475. Goldziher, Ignác. “[Review of:] Die Sprachwissenschaft. W. D. Whitney’s Vorlesungen über die Principien der Sprachforschung […].” Magyar Tanügy 3 (1874): 603 – 612. Goldziher, Ignác. “Jelentés a M. T. Akadémia könyvtára számára Keletről hozott könyvekről. Tekintettel a nyomdaviszonyokra Keleten” [Report on the books brought from the Orient for the Library of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences; with regard to printing conditions in the Orient] [1874]. AésI, I, 65 – 106 (for an English translation, see Mestyan, “Ignác Goldziher’s Report on the Books […]”). Goldziher, Ignaz. “Beiträge zur Literaturgeschichte der Śî‛â und der sunnitischen Polemik” [1874], GS I, 261 – 346 Goldziher, Ignaz. “Abū-l-‘Alā al-Ma‘arrī als Freidenker,” ZDMG 19 (1875): 637 – 641 Goldziher, Ignác. “A mythologia tanításáról” [On teaching mythology] [1875]. MésJ, 450 – 460. Goldziher, Ignác. “A sémi faj őshazájáról és vándorlásáról” [On the urheimat of the Semitic race and its migration] [1875], MésJ, 293 – 344. Goldziher, Ignác. “A vallásos eszme fejlődése a régi hébereknél. (Kultúrtörténeti vázlat)” [The evolution of the religious idea among ancient Hebrews. (A culture-historical outline)] [1875], MésJ, 345 – 366. Goldziher, Ignác. “Muhammedán utazókról” [On Muhammadan travellers] [1875]. AésI, I, 107 – 140. Goldziher, Ignaz. Der Mythos bei den Hebräern und seine geschichtliche Entwickelung. Leipzig: Brockhaus, 1876. Goldziher, Ignaz. Mythology among the Hebrews and its Historical Development, translated by Russell Martineau. London: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1877 Goldziher, Ignác. “George Smith,” Egyetemes Philologiai Közlöny 1 (1877): 22 – 35, 102 – 110, 160 – 167. Goldziher, Ignác. A spanyolországi arabok helye az iszlám fejlődése történetében összehasonlítva a keleti arabokéval [1877], AésI, 141 – 220 Goldziher, Ignaz. “The Spanish Arabs and Islam. The Place of the Spanish Arabs in the Evolution of Islam as Compared with the Eastern Arabs” (trans. of A spanyolországi arabok helye […], by J. de Somogyi) [1877], The Muslim World 53 (1963), 5 – 18, 91 – 105, 178 – 184, 281 – 286; 54 (1964), 27 – 38 (=GS I, 370 – 423) Goldziher, Ignác. “A nyelvtudomány történetéről az araboknál. Irodalomtörténeti kísérlet” [1878]. AésI, I, 221 – 290 (translated as On the History of Grammar among the Arabs,

262

Bibliography

translated and edited by Kinga Dévényi and Tamás Iványi. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 1994). Goldziher, Ignác. “Az összehasonlító vallástudomány módszeréről” [On the method of the comparative science of religion]. Magyar Tanügy 7 (1878): 171 – 186. Goldziher, Ignác. “Az összehasonlító vallástudomány jelen állásáról” [On the present state of the comparative science of religion] [1881]. MésJ, 129 – 147. Goldziher, Ignác. “A népetimológiáról a keleti nyelvekben” [On popular etymology in the oriental languages] [1881]. AésI, I, 340 – 349. Goldziher, Ignác. Az iszlám; Tanulmányok a muhammedán vallás története köréből [Islam. Studies on the history of Muhammadan religion] [1881]. Budapest: Magvető, 1980. Goldziher, Ignác. “A muhammedán jogtudomány eredetéről” [On the origins of Muhammadan Jurisprudence] [1884]. AésI, I, 383 – 405. Goldziher, Ignaz. Die Ẓāhiriten. Ihr Lehrsystem und ihre Geschichte. Leipzig: Schulze, 1884 (translated as The Ẓāhirīs: Their Doctrine and Their History: A Contribution to the History of Islamic Theology, translated and edited by Wolfgang Behn; [Leiden: Brill, 1971]). Goldziher, Ignác. “A bibliai tudomány és a modern vallásos élet” [Biblical scholarship and modern religious life] [1884]. MésJ, 149 – 165. Goldziher, Ignác. “Népszerű irodalmi vállalat” [Popular literary venture]. MZsSz 1 (1884): 254 – 256. Goldziher, Ignác. “A pesti talmud-tóra” [The Talmud Torah of Pest]. MZsSz 2 (1885): 538 – 544. Goldziher, Ignác. “Talmud-tóra, hittanítás, proszeminárium, szeminárium,” [Talmud Torah, religious education, proseminary, seminary]. MZsSz 3 (1886): 214 – 219. Goldziher, Ignác. “A jesibák” [The Yeshivot] [1886]. MésJ, 615 – 617. Goldziher, Ignác. “Abulvalid” [1886]. MésJ, 276 – 283. [Goldziher, Ignác=] Ungár, Izsák. “A haladásról” [On progress] [1886 – 1887]. MésJ, 617 – 622. Goldziher, Ignaz. “Das Princip des istiṣḥâb in der muhammedanischen Gesetzwissenschaft.” Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes 1 (1887): 228 – 236. Goldziher, Ignác. “A zsidó vallás fejlődéséről” [On the evolution of the Jewish religion]. MZsSz 5 (1888): 1 – 14. Goldziher, Ignaz. Muhammedanische Studien. 2 vols. Halle: Niemeyer, 1888 – 1890 (Muslim Studies [Muhammedanische Studien], translated by C. Renate Barber and Samuel Miklos Stern; edited by S. M. Stern [2 vols; London: Allen & Unwin, 1967 – 1971]). Goldziher, Ignaz. “Muhammedanisches Recht in Theorie und Wirklichkeit” [1889]. GS II, 353 – 370. Goldziher, Ignác. “Mekkai útazások” [Journeys to Mecca] [1889]. AésI, 459 – 489. Goldziher, Ignác. “A költő a régi arabok felfogásában” [The concept of the poet among ancient Arabs]. In Hunfalvy-Album. Hunfalvy Pál félszázados akadémiai tagsága emlékére kiadják tisztelői, 175 – 181. Budapest: Hornyánszky Viktor, 1891. Goldziher, Ignác. “A pogány arabok költészetének hagyománya” [The tradition of the poetry of heathen Arabs] [1892]. AésI, II, 529 – 597. Goldziher, Ignác. “Jelentés az orientalisták IX. nemzetközi congressusáról” [Report on the IXth international congress of orientalists]. Akadémiai Értesítő 3 (1892): 632 – 659. Goldziher, Ignác. “A Magyar Néprajzi Társaság ‚Ethnographia’ cz. közlönyének programmjáról” [On the program of the journal of Hungarian Ethnographic Society titled ‘Ethnographia’]. Ethnographia 3 (1892): 217 – 219.

Bibliography

263

Goldziher, Ignác. “Indítvány a keleti tanulmányok előmozdítására szolgáló bizottság felállítása tárgyában, II” [Proposal concerning the establishment of a committee promoting oriental studies]. Akadémiai Értesítő 3 [1892]: 731 – 732. Goldziher, Ignác. “Az összehasonlító vallástudomány etnográfiai kapcsolatai” [Ethnographic connections of the comparative science of religion] [1893]. MésJ, 166 – 180. Goldziher, Ignác. “Renan mint orientalista” [Renan as Orientalist] [1894]. MésJ, 461 – 542 (translated as Renan als Orientalist: Gedenkrede am 27. November 1893, translated and edited by P. Zalán and Fr. Niewöhner. Zürich: Spur-Verlag, 2000. Goldziher, Ignaz. “Ueber eine rituelle Formel der Muhammedaner.” ZDMG 48 (1894): 95 – 100. Goldziher, Ignác. “Rainer főherczeg papyrus-gyűjteménye” [The collection of papyri of Archduke Rainer] [1894]. AésI, II, 599 – 618. Goldziher, Ignác. “Az arab nyelvjárások legujabb irodalma” [The latest literature on Arabic dialects] [1895]. AésI, II, 682 – 688. Goldziher, Ignác. “[Review of:] Comes Géza Kuun: Relationum Hungarorum cum Oriente gentibusque orientalis originis Historia antiquissima. Vol. II. Claudiopoli 1890.” Budapesti Szemle 83, no. 223 (1895): 147 – 150. Goldziher, Ignác. Abhandlungen zur arabischen Philologie. 2 vols. Leiden: Brill, 1896 – 1899. Goldziher, Ignác. “A történetírás az arab irodalomban” [Historiography in Arabic literature] [1896]. AésI, II, 635 – 681. Goldziher, Ignác. “A mahdi országából” [From the country of the Mahdi] [1896]. AésI, II, 689 – 722. Goldziher, Ignác. “Keleti séták” [Oriental walks]. In Emlékkönyv Kármán Mór huszonötéves tanári munkásságának ünnepére, edited by György Volf and János Waldapfel, 29 – 30. Budapest: Eggenberger, 1897. [Goldziher, Ignác =] Keleti, I. “Brill Sámuel Löw rabbi” [Rabbi Brill S. L.]. A Jövő (April 16, 1897): 2 – 4. Goldziher, Ignác. “Renan és Berthelot levelezése” [The correspondence of Renan and Berthelot]. Budapesti Szemle 96, no. 263 (1898): 161 – 190. Goldziher, Ignaz. “[Review of:] Henry Preserved Smith, The Bible and Islam or the Influence of the Old and New Testament on the Religion of Mohammed […].” Deutsche Literaturzeitung 19 (1898): 1257 – 1260. Goldziher, Ignaz. “Materialen zur Entwickelungsgeschichte des Ṣûfismus.” Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes 13 (1899): 35 – 56. Goldziher, Ignác. “Az egyiptomi iszlám” [Egyptian Islam] [1899]. AésI, II, 723 – 744. Goldziher, Ignác. “[Review of:] Archiv für Religionswissenschaft, herausgegeben von Dr. Th. Achelis […].” Budapesti Szemle 97, no. 265 (1899): 152 – 156. Goldziher, Ignác. “Dr. Goldziher Ignácz bucsuztatója. Elmondta Dr. Kaufmann Dávid temetésén […]” [Funeral oration on Dr. D. Kaufmann, held by Dr. I. Goldziher]. Egyenlőség 18, no. 29 (1899): 1. Goldziher, Ignaz. “Über Zahlenaberglauben im Islam.” Globus 80 (1901): 31 – 32. Goldziher, Ignaz. “Mélanges judéo-arabes [i – viii].” Revue des études juives 43, no. 89 (1901): 1 – 14. Goldziher, Ignaz, “Mélanges judéo-arabes [xiii – xv],” Revue des études juives 45, no. 89 (1902): 1 – 12 Goldziher, Ignác, “A buddhismus hatása az iszlámra” [The influence of Buddhism upon Islam] [1903], AésI, II, 861 – 904

264

Bibliography

Goldziher, Ignác. “Arabok” [Arabs]. In Egyetemes Irodalomtörténet [Universal History of Literature], edited by Gusztáv Heinrich. Budapest: Franklin társulat, 1903. AésI, II, 905 – 966. Goldziher, Ignaz. “Ḥadith.” In Jewish Encyclopedia, edited by Isidore Singer, vol. 6, 133 – 134. New York and London: Funk and Wagnalls, 1904. Goldziher, Ignaz. “Islam.” In Jewish Encyclopedia, edited by Isidore Singer, vol. 6, 651 – 659. New York and London: Funk and Wagnalls, 1904. Goldziher, Ignaz. “[Review of:] A. S. Yahuda [Dr.], Prolegomena zu einer erstmaligen Herausgabe des Kitāb al-hidāja ’ila farā’iḍ al-qulūb (‫ )חובות הלבבות‬von Bachja ibn Josef ibn Paqūda aus dem ’Andalus nebst einer grösseren Textbeilage. Darmstadt, Druck von C. F. Winter [1904]. […].” Deutsche Literaturzeitung 25 (1904): 1933 – 1935. Goldziher, Ignaz. “[Review of:] Yahuda (A.-S.). Prolegomena zu einer erstmaligen Herausgabe des Kitāb al-Hidāja ila farā’iḍ alqulūb von Bachja ibn Josef ibn Paqūda aus dem Andalus, nebst einer grösseren Textbeilage. Darmstadt, 1904 […].” Revue des études juives 49, no. 97 (1904): 154 – 160. Goldziher, Ignaz. “Die Fortschritte der Islam-Wissenschaft in den letzten drei Jahrzenten” [1905]. GS IV, 443 – 469. Goldziher, Ignaz. “[Review of:] Eduard Reuß’ Briefwechsel mit seinem Schüler und Freunde Karl Heinrich Graf. Zur hundertjährigen Feier seiner Geburt hrsg. von K. Budde und H. J. Holtzmann […].” ZDMG 59 (1905): 180 – 187. Goldziher, Ignaz. “Die Religion des Islams.” In Die Kultur der Gegenwart, edited by Paul Hinneberg, Teil I, Abteilung III, I: Die orientalischen Religionen, 87 – 135. Berlin und Leipzig: B. G. Teubner, 1906. Goldziher, Ignaz. “Das Prinzip der taḳijja im Islam.” ZDMG 60 (1906): 213 – 226. Goldziher, Ignác. “Kaufmann Dávid könyvtára” [The library of D. Kaufmann] [1906]. AésI, II, 595 – 603. Goldziher, Ignác. “Gróf Kuun Géza tiszt. és igazgató tag emlékezete. (1837 – 1905). Goldziher Ignácz r. tagtól” [The memory of honorary member and member of the directorate Géza Kuun (1837 – 1905). By ordinary member I. Goldziher] [1907]. AésI, II, 997 – 1029. Goldziher, Ignaz. “Kämpfe um die Stellung des Ḥadīṯ im Islam” ZDMG 61 (1907): 860 – 872. Goldziher, Ignaz, hrsg. Kitâb ma‛âni an-nafs, Buch vom Wesen der Seele: Von einem Ungenannten. Berlin: Weidmann, 1907. Goldziher, Ignác. “Jelentés az orientalisták XV. nemzetközi congressusáról” [Report on the XVth international congress of orientalists]. Akadémiai Értesítő 19 (1908): 537 – 555. Goldziher, Ignaz. “Die islamische und die jüdische Philosophie.” In Die Kultur der Gegenwart, edited by Paul Hinneberg, Teil I, Abteilung V: Allgemeine Geschichte der Philosophie, 45 – 77. Berlin und Leipzig: B. G. Teubner, 1909. Goldziher, Ignác. Vorlesungen über den Islam. Heidelberg: C. Winter, 1910 (2nd ed., hrsg. Franz Babinger [Heidelberg: C. Winter, 1925]). Goldziher, Ignác. Introduction to Islamic Theology and Law. Translated by Andras and Ruth Hamori (translation of of Vorlesungen über den Islam). Princeton, NJ.: Princeton U. Pr., 1981. Goldziher, Ignaz. [Review of:] Der Islam. Zeitschrift für Geschichte und Kultur des islamischen Orients. Hrsg. C. H. Becker, Bd. I, Heft 1. Zeitschrift für Assyriologie 24 (1910): 359 – 365. Goldziher, Ignaz. “Ethische Deutungen.” Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 31 (1911): 73.

Bibliography

265

Goldziher, Ignác. “A koránmagyarázás különféle irányairól” [The various trends in Quranic exegesis] [1912]. AésI, II, 1067 – 1090. Goldziher, Ignaz. “Katholische Tendenz und Partikularismus im Islam” [1914]. GS V, 285 – 312. Goldziher, Ignác. “Válasz ‘A háború és a tudósok szolidaritása’ körkérdésre” [Answer to the poll ‘The war and the solidarity of scholars’] [1914]. MésJ, 610 – 614. Goldziher, Ignác. “Hagyomány és dogma” [Tradition and dogma] [1914]. MésJ, 367 – 377. Goldziher, Ignác. Tradition und Dogma. Berlin: Rudolf Mosse, 1914 [offprint from the Allgemeine Zeitung des Judenthums]. Goldziher, Ignác. “Vámbéry Ármin tiszt. tag emlékezete. Goldziher Ignácz rendes tagtól” [The memory of honorary member Ármin Vámbéry. By ordinary member I. Goldziher] [1915]. MésJ, 543 – 558. Goldziher, Ignaz. Stellung der alten islamischen Orthodoxie zu den antiken Wissenschaften. Berlin: Verlag der Königl. Akademie der Wissenschaften in Kommission bei Georg Reimer, 1916 (“The Attitude of the Old Islamic Orthodoxy toward the Ancient Sciences,” translated by M. L. Swartz, in Studies on Islam, edited by M. L. Swartz, 185 – 215). Goldziher, Ignaz. Streitschrift des Ġazālī gegen die Baṭinijja Sekte. Leiden: Brill, 1916. Goldziher, Ignác. “Über iǵmā‛.” Aus den Nachrichten der K. Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften zu Göttingen, Philologisch-historische Klasse (1916): 81 – 85. Goldziher, Ignác. “Das muslimische Recht und seine Stellung in der Gegenwart.” Pester Lloyd 63, no. 303 (1916): 5 – 8. Goldziher, Ignác. “Modernistische Strömungen im Islam.” Kelet Népe. Das junge Europa 8, no. 11 – 12 (1916): 82 – 92. Goldziher, Ignaz. Die Richtungen der islamische Koranauslegung. Leiden: Brill, 1920. Goldziher, Ignác. A zsidóság lényege és fejlődése [The essence and evolution of Judaism] [1887 – 1888]. 2 vols. N.p.: Népszerű Zsidó Könyvtár, 1922 – 23. Goldziher, Ignác. A zsidóság lényege és fejlődése [The essence and evolution of Judaism] [1887 – 1888]. MésJ, 29 – 128 [in this book cited as: A zsidóság lényege]. Goldziher, Ignaz. “Erklärung einer Stelle in der Tefillah.” MGWJ 78 (1934): 117 – 119. Goldziher, Ignaz. Gesammelte Schriften, hrsg. von Joseph DeSomogyi, 6 vols. Hildesheim: Olms, 1967 – 1973 [GS]. Goldziher, Ignaz. Tagebuch. Edited by Alexander Scheiber. Leiden: Brill, 1978 (T). Goldziher, Ignác. Az iszlám kultúrája. Edited by Róbert Simon. 2 vols. Budapest: Gondolat, 1981. Goldziher, Ignác. Napló [Diary]. Edited by Sándor Scheiber, translated by Mrs. Lívia Scheiber (née Bernáth). Budapest: Magvető, 1984. Goldziher, Ignaz. Oriental Diary (OrD) – see Patai, Raphael, Ignaz Goldziher and His Oriental Diary. Goldziher, Ignác. Az arabok és az iszlám / The Arabs and Islam. Edited by István Ormos, 2 vols. Budapest: Magyar Tudományos Akadémia Könyvtára – Kőrösi Csoma Társaság, 1995 [AésI]. Goldziher, Ignác. A zsidóság lényege és fejlődése [The essence and evolution of Judaism]. Edited by János Kőbányai and József Zsengellér. Budapest: Múlt és Jövő, 2000 [MésJ]. Goldziher, Ignác. A klasszikus arab irodalom története [The history of classical Arabic literature]. Edited by Kinga Dévényi. Budapest: Magyar Tudományos Akadémia Könyvtára, 2013.

266

Bibliography

Gonzalez, Allyson. “Abraham S. Yahuda (1877 – 1951) and the Politics of Modern Jewish Scholarship.” Jewish Quarterly Review 109 (2019): 406 – 433. Gottheil, Richard. “Ignaz Goldziher.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 42 (1922): 189 – 193. Graetz, Heinrich. Geschichte der Juden, von den ältesten Zeiten bis auf die Gegenwart. Bd. V: von Abschluss des Talmud (500) bis zum Aufblühen der jüdisch-spanischen Cultur (1027). Leipzig: Oskar Leiner, 1861. Graetz, Heinrich. “Ueberbleibsel der sabbatianischer Sekte in Salonichi.” MGWJ 33 (1884): 49 – 63. Grunfeld, Frederic V. Prophets Without Honour; A Background to Freud, Kafka, Einstein, and Their World. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1979. Grünwald, Jekutiel Jehuda. "‫ תרע"א‬.‫"זכרונות משנות השחרות‬. Appiryon 2 (1924 – 25): 20 – 22. Grünwald, Jekutiel Jehuda. “R. Leopold Greenwald: Tish‘ah be-Av at the University of Leipzig.” Translated by Shnayer Z. Leiman. Tradition 25, no. 4 (1991): 103 – 106. Grünwald, Jekutiel Jehuda. “Tisa be-Áv a lipcsei egyetemen” [Tisha be-Av at the University of Leipzig]. Translated by Ágnes Vázsonyi. Szombat 4, no. 6 (1992): 21 – 22. Gutas, Dimitri. Greek Thought, Arabic Culture. The Graeco-Arabic Translation Movement in Baghdad and Early ‘Abbāsid Society (2nd–4th/8th–10th centuries). London: Routledge, 1998. Haber, Peter. Zwischen jüdischer Tradition und Wissenschaft: Der ungarischer Orientalist Ignác Goldziher (1850 – 1921). Köln: Böhlau Verlag, 2006. HaCohen, Ran. Reclaiming the Hebrew Bible: German-Jewish Reception of Biblical Criticism. Berlin/New York: de Gruyter, 2010. Hamori, Esther J. “When Gods Were Men”; The Embodied God in Biblical and Near Eastern Literature. New York: W. de Gruyter, 2008. Hardecker, Georg. Bildung – Eindruck und Ausdruck der Religion. Eine systematische Analyse von Schleiermachers Bildungsverständnis aus fundamentalethischer Perspektive. Tübingen: Mohr, 2021. Harmat, József. “Goldziher Ignác gyermekkora.” Bástya, no. 1 (2004): 114 – 128. Harris, Jay M. How Do We Know This? Midrash and the Fragmentation of Modern Judaism. Albany: State Univ. of New York Pr., 1995. Heine, Heinrich, Briefe, hrsg. Friedrich Hirth, III. Mainz: Florian Kupferberg, 1950. Heinemann, Isaac. ‫טעמי המצוות בספרות ישראל‬. 2 vols., 2nd ed. Jerusalem: Horeb, 1993. Heller, Bernát. “Goldziher Ignác.” Magyar-Zsidó Almanach 1 (1911): 237 – 239. Heller, Bernát. “Kármán Mór. 1843 – 1915.” Évkönyv, kiadja az Izraelita Magyar Irodalmi Társulat (1916): 251 – 284. Heller, Bernát. “Bánóczi József és az Izraelita magyar irodalmi társulat” [J. Bánóczi and the Israelite Hungarian Literary Society]. In Emlékkönyv Bánóczi Józsefnek születése hetvenedik évfordulójára [Memorial volume for J. Bánóczi on the occasion of his seventieth birthday], 80 – 96. Budapest: n.p., 1919. Heller, Bernát. “Goldziher.” Egyenlőség 39, no. 26 (1920): 3 – 4. Heller, Bernát. “Intézetünk múltja” [The history of our institution]. In A Pesti Izraelita Hitközség Alapítványi Főgimnáziumának Értesítője az 1919 – 1920 iskolaévről [Bulletin of the Principal Endowed High School of the Jewish Community of Pest about the 1919 – 1920 school year], edited by B. Heller, 1 – 7. Budapest: n.p., 1920.

Bibliography

267

Heller, Bernát. “Mivel tartozik a zsidóság Steinthal emlékének” [What Judaism owes to the memory of Steinthal]. Múlt és Jövő 13 (1923): 292 – 298. Heller, Bernát. “Goldziher Ignác.” MésJ, 7 – 21 (originally in Emlékkönyv a Ferenc József Orsz. Rabbiképző Intézet ötven éves jubileumára, II [Magyar Zsidó Szemle 44], 261 – 274. Budapest: n.p., 1927). Heller, Bernard. Bibliographie des oeuvres de Ignace Goldziher. Paris: Imprimerie nationale, 1927. Heller, Bernhard. “‘Gott wünscht das Herz:’ Legenden über einfältige Andacht und über den Gefährten im Paradies.” Hebrew Union College Annual 4 (1927): 365 – 404. Heller, Bernhard. “Goldziher, Ignaz.” Encyclopedia Judaica, vol. 7, 498 – 501. Berlin: Eshkol, 1931. Heller, Bernát. “Goldziher Ignác emlékezete” [The memory of I. Goldziher]. Évkönyv, kiadja az Izraelita Magyar Irodalmi Társulat (1932): 7 – 33. Heller, Bernát. “Emlékezés Bacher Vilmosról” [Reminiscences about V. Bacher]. Évkönyv, kiadja az Izraelita Magyar Irodalmi Társulat (1934): 42 – 59. Heller, Bernát. “Goldziher Ignácz és a néprajz” [I. Goldziher and Ethnography]. In Jubilee Volume in Honour of Prof. Bernhard Heller […], edited by A. Scheiber, 309 – 324. Budapest: s.l., 1941. Hermann, Antal. “Pótló adatok a körömről való néphithez” [Supplementary data on the popular beliefs concerning the nail]. Ethnographia 4 (1893): 248 – 250. Heschel, Susannah. “Abraham Geiger and the Emergence of Jewish Philoislamism.” In “Im vollen Licht der Geschichte”. Die Wissenschaft des Judentums und die Anfänge der kritischen Koranforschung, edited by Dirk Hartwig et al., 65 – 86. Würzburg: Ergon Verlag, 2008. Heschel, Susannah. Abraham Geiger and the Jewish Jesus. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1998. Heschel, Susannah. “German Jewish Scholarship on Islam as a Tool for De-Orientalizing Judaism.” New German Critique 39 (2012): 91 – 107. Heschel, Susannah. “Orientalist Triangulations: Jewish Scholarship on Islam as a Response to Christian Europe.” In The Muslim Reception of European Orientalism, edited by Heschel and Ryad, 147 – 167. Heschel, Susannah, and Umar Ryad, eds. The Muslim Reception of European Orientalism. Reversing the Gaze. London and New York: Routledge, 2019. Hidvégi, Máté. “Immánuel Löw’s Reflections on ‘The Essence and Evolution of Judaism’ in his Letters to Ignaz Goldziher in 1888.” In Goldziher Memorial Conference, edited by Apor and Ormos, 75 – 81. Hidvégi, Máté. “Löw Immánuel élete” [The life of I. Löw]. In Löw Immánuel válogatott művei, edited by Máté Hidvégi and Tamás Ungvári, 9 – 112. Scolar: n.p., 2019. Hirschler, Ignác. A külső tudományok (Chochmoth hachiczonoth) szerepe és története a középkori zsidóknál. Budapest: Atheneum, 1901 (MZsSz 18 [1901]: 226 – 268, 327 – 339; 19 [1902]: 87 – 97, 137 – 158, 228 – 239). Hirshman, Marc, ed. Midrash Kohelet Rabbah 1 – 6. Critical Edition Based on Manuscripts and Genizah Fragments, with […] Commentary. Jerusalem: The Midrash Project of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies, 2016 [in Hebrew].

268

Bibliography

Hitchins, Keith. “Hungary ii. Iranian and Persian Studies in Hungary.” In Encyclopædia Iranica, online edition. 2016. http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/hungary-02-studies (accessed October 20, 2016). Hochmuth, Ábrahám. “A budapesti hittanárok tantervjavaslata” [The curriculum-proposal of teachers of religion in Budapest]. MZsSz 3 (1886): 695 – 702. Hopkins, Simon. “The Language Studies of Ignaz Goldziher.” In Goldziher Memorial Conference, edited by Apor, Éva, and István Ormos, 83 – 142. Hundert, Gershon David, ed. YIVO Encyclopedia of Jews in Eastern Europe. 2 vols. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008. Jahresbericht der Landes-Rabbinerschule in Budapest […] 1906/1907. Budapest: n. p., 1907. Jakobs, Horst Heinrich. Die Begründung der geschichtlichen Rechtswissenschaft. Paderborn, etc.: F. Schöningh, 1992. Jellinek, Adolf. “Letter to Leopold Löw, March 5, 1860.” In Gesammelte Schriften, by L. Löw , hrsg. Immanuel Löw, V, 168 – 169. Szeged: Ludwig Engel, 1900. Jellinek, Adolf. Der jüdische Stamm. Ethnographische Studien. Wien: Herzfeld & Bauer, 1869. Jellinek, Adolf. Die Psyche des Weibes. Vortrag im Saale des akademischen Gymnasiums in Wien. Wien: Alfred Hölder, 1872. Jellinek, Adolf. Der jüdische Stamm in nichtjüdischen Sprichwörtern. Wien: Löwy’s Buchhandlung, 1881. Jokisch, Benjamin. “Origins of and Influences on Islamic Law.” In The Oxford Handbook of Islamic Law, edited by Emon and Ahmed, 385 – 402. Kaatz, Saul. Abraham Geiger’s religiöser Charakter. Erster Teil. Frankfurt a. M.: Verlag des “Israelit,” 1911. Kalmar, Ivan. “Steinthal, the Jewish Orientalist.” In Chajim H. Steinthal. Sprachwissenschaftler und Philosoph im 19. Jahrhundert, edited by Hartwig Wiedebach and Annette Winkelmann, 135 – 152. Leiden, Boston und Köln: Brill, 2002. [Kármán =] Kleinmann, Mór. “A tantervek elméletéhez” [On the theory of curricula]. Magyar Tanügy 3 (1874): 97 – 103. [Kármán =] Kleinmann, Mór. “Az új gymnasiumi tantervjavaslat” [The new curriculum proposal for high-schools]. Magyar Tanügy 3 (1874): 289 – 304, 391 – 402. Kármán, Mór. “A tanárképzés reformja” [The reform of teacher training]. Magyar Tanügy 4 (1875): 622 – 627. Kármán, Mór. “A hitoktatás elvei és rendszere” [The principles and system of religious education]. MZsSz 1 (1884): 276 – 283. Kármán, Mór. “Felhívás hazai hitrokonainkhoz” [A call to our brothers of faith in our home country]. MZsSz 10 (1893): 528 – 529. Kármán, Mór. [“Levél a szerkesztőséghez”] [Letter to the editors]. MZsSz 5 (1888): 607 – 608. Kármán, Mór. Kármán Mór Ethikája. Ethika mint a sociologia alapja [The Ethics of M. Kármán. Ethics as a foundation sociology]. Edited by Elemér Kármán. Budapest: Genius, 1921. Katz, Jacob. “Berthold Auerbach’s Anticipation of the German-Jewish Tragedy.” Hebrew Union College Annual 53 (1962): 215 – 240. Katz, Jacob. A House Divided. Orthodoxy and Schism in Nineteenth-Century Central European Jewry. Translated by Ziporah Brody. Hanover, N. H. and London: University Press of New England, 1998.

Bibliography

269

Katz, Jacob. “The Orthodox Defense of the Second Day of the Festivals.” In Divine Law in Human Hands. Case Studies in Halakhic Flexibility by Jacob Katz, 255 – 319. Jerusalem: The Hebrew University Magnes Pr., 1998. Kaufmann, David. “Die Theologie des Bachja Ibn Pakuda” [1874]. In Gesammelte Schriften by David Kaufmann, hrsg. Marcus Brann, II, 1 – 98. Frankfurt a. M.: J. Kauffmann, 1910. Kaufmann, David. “A zsidó káté” [The Jewish catechism]. MZsSz 1 (1884): 119 – 127. Kecskeméti, Lipót. “Berlin zsidóságáról” [On Berlin Jewry]. MZsSz 4 (1887): 518 – 524, 575 – 584; 5 (1888): 237 – 245, 370 – 376. Kerényi, Károly. “Religio Academici.” Pannonia 4, nos. 8 – 10, 320 – 329 (1938). Kerényi, Károly. “Religio Academici.” In Religio Academici, edited by Losonczi et al., 11 – 21. Kern, Frigyes [Friedrich]. “Abú Hanífa élete és iratai” [The life and works of Abu Hanifa]. In Keleti tanulmányok Goldziher Ignácz születésének hatvanadik évfordulójára […], 233 – 243. Budapest: Hornyánszky Viktor, 1910. Klautke, Egbert. The Mind of the Nation; Völkerpsychologie in Germany, 1851 – 1955. N.p.: Berghahn Books, 2013. Klein, Miksa. “Egy pár apróság Goldziherről” [Trifles on Goldziher]. Egyenlőség 40, no. 48 (1921): 12. Kohlbach, Bertalan. “A bűnbocsánat napja [Jom hakippurim]” [The Day of Atonement]. Évkönyv, kiadja az Izraelita Magyar Irodalmi Társulat (1934): 272 – 293. Kohn, Hans. The Idea of Nationalism. New York: Macmillan, 1944. Kohut, Alexander. “Which is Right? A Talmudical Disputation” [1885]. In Tradition and Change. The Development of Conservative Judaism, edited by Mordecai Waxman, 65 – 74. New York: The Burning Bush Pr., 1958. Komlós, Aladár. “Zsidók a magyar tudományban a kiegyezés után” [Jews in Hungarian scholarship after the Austro-Hungarian Compromise]. In Jubilee Volume in Honour of Prof. Bernhard Heller on the Occasion of His Seventieth Birthday, edited by Alexander Scheiber, 203 – 207. Budapest: n. p., 1941. Komlós, Aladár. Magyar-zsidó szellemtörténet a reformkortól a Holocaustig, I: A magyar zsidóság irodalmi tevékenysége a XIX. században [Hungarian Jewish intellectual history from the Reform Age to the Holocaust, I: The literary activity of Hungarian Jewry in the nineteenth century]. Budapest: Múlt és Jövő, 1997. Komlós, Aladár. “Zsidók a magyar tudományban a kiegyezés után” [Jews in Hungarian scholarship after the Austro-Hungarian Compromise]. In Magyar-zsidó szellemtörténet a reformkortól a Holocaustig, I, by Aladár Komlós, 168 – 216. Komoróczy, Géza. “Az ókori Elő-Ázsia a pesti egyetemen. Nemzeti célok vagy tudományos kutatás” [Ancient Near East at the university of Pest. Nationalistic goals or scientific research]. In 100 év után. Emlékkonferencia a Keleti Népek Ókori Történeti Tanszék alapításának 100. Évfordulóján, edited by Tamás Bács, Tamás Dezső, and Zoltán Niederreiter, 25 – 34. Budapest: Eötvös Kiadó, 2011. Komoróczy, Géza. “The Rabbinical Seminary of Budapest and Oriental Studies in Hungary.” In Modern Jewish Scholarship in Hungary: The “Science of Judaism” between East and West, edited by Turán and Wilke, 37 – 54. Konrád, Miklós. Zsidóságon innen és túl. Zsidók vallásváltása Magyarországon a reformkortól az első világháborúig [Within Judaism and beyond. Conversion of Jews in Hungary from the Reform Age to World War I]. Budapest: BTK Történettudományi Intézet, 2014.

270

Bibliography

Kosztka, László. “Goldziher Ignác, az író” [I. Goldziher, the writer]. Budapesti Szemle 210, no. 610 (1928): 456 – 466. Kóthay, Katalin. “Hungary.” In A History of World Egyptology, edited by A. Bednarski et al., 298 – 317. Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Pr., 2020. Kovács, Ábrahám. “The Rise of the Science of Religion and Its Separation from Traditional Protestant Theology in Hungary.” Numen 65 (2018): 232 – 255. Kovács, I. Gábor, ed. Diszkrimináció, emancipáció – asszimiláció, diszkrimináció. Magyarországi egyetemi tanárok életrajzi adattára 1848 – 1944, I: Zsidó és zsidó származású egyetemi tanárok [Discrimination, emancipation – assimilation, discrimination. Biographic data-base of university professors in Hungary 1848 – 1944, I: Jewish university professors and professors of Jewish extraction]. Budapest: Eötvös Kiadó, 2012. Kovács, I. Gábor. “Diszkriminációtól diszkriminációig. Zsidó és zsidó származású egyetemi tanárok kinevezése Magyarországon 1944-ig” [From discrimination to discrimination. The appointment of Jewish university professors and professors of Jewish extraction in Hungary until 1944]. In Diszkrimináció, emancipáció – asszimiláció, diszkrimináció, edited by Kovács, 163 – 174. Kovács, M. Mária. “The Hungarian numerus clausus: ideology, apology and history, 1919 – 1945.” In The numerus clausus in Hungary. Studies on the First Anti-Jewish Law and Academic Anti-Semitism in Modern Central Europe, edited by Victor Karady and Peter Tibor Nagy. Budapest: Pasts Inc. Centre for Historical Research, History Department of the Central European University, 2012. Kowalczyk, Michal. “Hungarian Turanism. From the Birth of the Ideology to Modernity – an Outline of the Problem.” Historia i Polityka 27 (2017): 43 – 63. Kozmács, István, ed. Megvalósult gyermekálom (Munkácsi Bernát udmurtföldi útja) [A child’s dream that came true. (B. Munkácsi’s travel to Udmurtia)] [Diary and correspondence]. n.p.: Ab-Art, 2008. Kozmács, István. The Life of Bernát Munkácsi. Translated by Zsuzsanna Szegedy-Maszák. Budapest: Hungarian National Organisation of the World Congress of Finno-Ugric Peoples, 2010. König, Eduard. Geschichte der Alttestamentlichen Religion. Fourth edition. Gütersloh: C. Bertelsmann, 1924. Könyves Tóth, Mihály. “A’ symbolok- s’ symbolikus protestansok’ uniojáról.” Protestans Egyházi és Iskolai Lap 1, no. 12 (1842): 133 – 135. Kramer, Martin, ed. The Jewish Discovery of Islam: Studies in Honor of Bernard Lewis. Tel Aviv: Moshe Dayan Center for Middle Eastern and African Studies, Tel Aviv University, 1999. Kramer, Martin. “Introduction.” In The Jewish Discovery of Islam, edited by Martin Kramer, 1 – 48. Krauss, Samuel. "‫[ "חכמי בודאפשט‬The Sages of Budapest]. Metsudah 5 – 6 (1948): 447 – 473. Kreisel, Howard. “From Dialogue to Contemplation: The Transformation of the Meaning of Prayer in Maimonides and the Medieval Jewish Philosophers of Provence.” In: Judaism as Philosophy. Studies in Maimonides and the Medieval Jewish Philosophers of Provence by Howard Kreisel, 396 – 436. Boston: Academic Studies Press, 2015. Kuenen, Abraham. National Religions and Universal Religions. London and Edinburgh: Williams and Norgate, 1882.

Bibliography

271

Kundera, Milan. “The Tragedy of Central Europe.” The New York Review of Books 31, no. 7 (1984): 33 – 38. Kúnos, Ignác, and Munkácsi Bernát. “Törekvéseink” [Our aims]. Keleti Szemle 1 (1900): 1 – 6. Kúnos, Ignác. “Török-zsidó világ” [Turkish-Jewish world]. MZsSz 2 (1885): 466 – 468. Kúnos, Ignác. A nyugati kultúra hatása a török irodalomban [The impact of Western culture on Turkish literature]. Budapest: Magyar Tudományos Akadémia, 1916. Kúnos, Ignác. “Munkácsi Bernát 70 éves születése napja alkalmából” [On the occasion of the 70th birthday of B. Munkácsi]. Nyugat 23, no. 13 (1930): 65 – 67. Kúnos, Ignác. “A csángók földjén Munkácsival” [In the land of the Csangos, with Munkácsi]. Magyar Nyelvőr 67 (1938): 65 – 70. L.I. “A boldogság serlege” [The chalice of bliss] [Interview with Ernő Bacher]. Új élet (1962): 3. Landau, Jacob M. “Arminius Vámbéry: Identities in Conflict.” In The Jewish Rediscovery of Islam, edited by Kramer, 95 – 102. Landau, Jacob M. “Arminius Vambéry: Traveller, Scholar, Politician.” Middle Eastern Studies 50 (2014): 857 – 869. Larsson, Göran. “Ignaz Goldziher on the shuʿūbiyya.” ZDMG 155 (2005): 365 – 372. Lazarus, Moritz, and Heymann Steinthal. “Einleitende Gedanken über Völkerpsychologie, als Einladung zu einer Zeitschrift für Völkerpsychologie und Sprachwissenschaft.” Zeitschrift für Völkerpsychologie und Sprachwissenschaft 1 (1860): 1 – 73. Lewin, Benjamin Menashe, ed. ‫אוצר הגאונים‬, Vol. IV. Tractates Yom Tov, Hagigah, and Mashqin. Jerusalem: The Hebrew University Press Assoc., 1932. Libson, Gideon. Jewish and Islamic Law: A Comparative Study of Custom during the Geonic Period. Cambridge, Mass.: Islamic Legal Studies Program, Harvard Law School, 2003. Lichtenstädter, Siegfried. “Eduard Glaser.” Jahrbuch für jüdische Geschichte und Literatur 12 (1909): 135 – 179. Lobel, Diana. A Sufi-Jewish Dialogue. Philosophy and Mysticism in Baḥya Ibn Paqūda’s Duties of the Heart. Philadelphia: Univ. of Pennsylvania Pr., 2007. Losonczi, Péter, András Szigeti, and Miklós Vassányi, eds. Religio Academici. Essays on Scepticism, Religion and the Pursuit of Knowledge. Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó, 2009. Löw, Immánuel, and Zsigmond Kulinyi. A szegedi zsidók 1785-től 1885-ig [The History of the Jews in Szeged from 1785 to 1885]. Szeged: Szegedi Zsidó Hitközség, 1885. Löw, Immánuel. “Goldziher Ignác.” In Száz beszéd, 1900 – 1922 [Hundred Sermons, 1900 – 1922] by Immánuel Löw, 299 – 309. Szeged: Schwarz Jenő, 1923. Löw, Leopold. “Die Reform des rabbinischen Ritus auf rabbinischem Standpunkte” [1839]. In Gesammelte Schriften, hrsg. Immanuel Löw, I, 15 – 29. Szeged: Alexander Bába, 1889. Löw, Lipót. Zsidó valláselvek. Megállapítva a nagy Sanhedrin által, mely 1807ik évi februárban Párisban tartatott [Jewish religious principles, established by the Great Sanhedrin, held in February 1807 in Paris]. Pápa: Ref. Főiskola, 1848. Löw, Leopold. ‫המפתח‬. Praktische Einleitung in die heilige Schrift und Geschichte der Schriftauslegung. Ein Lehrbuch für die reifere Jugend, ein Handbuch für Gebildete. Erster Theil: Allgemeine Einleitung und Geschichte der Schriftauslegung. Groß-Kanischa: J. Markbreiter, 1855. Löw, Leopold. “Vergangenheit und Gegenwart der Chaßidäer” [1859]. In Gesammelte Schriften, by Leopold Löw, hrsg. Immanuel Löw, II, 57 – 103. Szeged: Alexander Bába, 1890.

272

Bibliography

Löw, Leopold. Történelmi és vallástudományi értekezések [Studies in history and the science of religion]. Szeged: Burger Zsigmond, 1861. Löw, Leopold. “Aron Chorin. Eine Biographische Skizze” [1861]. In Gesammelte Schriften, by Leopold Löw, hrsg. Immanuel Löw, II, 251 – 420. Szeged: Alexander Bába, 1890. Löw, Leopold. “Die Tradition” [1861]. In Gesammelte Schriften, by Leopold Löw, hrsg. Immanuel Löw, I, 241 – 317. Szeged: Alexander Bába, 1889. [Löw, Leopold =] [Anon.]. “[Review of:] ‫חותם תוכנית‬, Hebräische Synonymik von Abraham Bedarschi aus Beziers (13. Jhrh.).” Ben Chananja 8 (1865): 678 – 679. Löw, Leopold. Die jüdischen Wirren in Ungarn. Beitrag zur Zeitgeschichte, I: Vor dem Kongresse. Leipzig – Pest: K.F. Köhler, Aigner & Rautmann, 1869. Löw, Leopold. Zur neueren Geschichte der Juden in Ungarn. Beitrag zur allgemeinen Rechts-, Religions- und Kulturgeschichte. 2nd ed. Budapest: L. Aigner, 1874. Löw, Leopold. Jüdische Dogmen [1871]. In Gesammelte Schriften, by Leopold Löw, hrsg. Immanuel Löw, I, 133 – 176. Szeged: Alexander Bába, 1889. Löw, Leopold. Gesammelte Schriften, hrsg. Immanuel Löw, IV. Szeged: Ludwig Engel, 1898. Lőwinger, Samuel David. "‫ הוספה‬.‫[ "מכתב פוזננסקי וסוקולוב אל גולדציהר‬The letter of Posnanski and Sokolow to Goldziher. An addendum (to S. D. Goitein’s article)]. In Ignace Goldziher Memorial Volume, I, edited by Samuel Lőwinger and Joseph Somogyi, Hebrew part, 24 – 26. Budapest: n. p., 1948. Lőwinger, Samuel David. "‫"פרופ' יצחק יהודה )איגנץ( גולדציהר‬, in: ‫חכמת ישראל במערב אירופה‬, edited by S. Federbush, 166 – 181. Jerusalem – Tel-Aviv: n. p., 1958. Lupovitch, Howard N. “Navigating Rough Waters: Alexander Kohut and the Hungarian Roots of Conservative Judaism.” AJS Review 32 (2008): 49 – 78. Magyar Statisztikai Évkönyv (Hungarian Statistical Yearbook), 1895. Budapest: Athenaeum, 1896. Magyar Statisztikai Évkönyv (Hungarian Statistical Yearbook), 1905. Budapest: Athenaeum, 1906. Magyar Statisztikai Évkönyv (Hungarian Statistical Yearbook), 1910. Budapest: Athenaeum, 1911. Mahler, Ede. “Goldziher Ignácról” [On I. Goldziher]. Múlt és Jövő 11, no. 46 (Nov. 18, 1921): 2 – 3. Makdisi, George. “Hanbalist Islam” [1974 – 75]. Translated by Merlin L. Swartz. In Studies on Islam, edited by Swartz, 216 – 274. Mandler, David. Arminius Vambéry and the British Empire. Between East and West. Lanham, etc.: Lexington Books, 2016. Mangold, Sabine. Eine “weltbürgerliche Wissenschaft.” Die deutsche Orientalistik im 19. Jahrhundert. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner, 2004. Marczali, Henrik. Emlékeim [My memoirs] [1929]. Budapest: Múlt és Jövő, 2000. Maróth, Miklós. “Az arab nyelv tanulmányozása az európai egyetemeken” [The study of the Arabic language in the European universities]. Gerundium 10 (2019): 40 – 64. Márkus, Jenő. A liberális szellem a református egyházban. (A magyar református liberális teológia) [The liberal spirit in the Reformed Church. (Reformed liberal theology in Hungary)]. Pápa: Főiskolai Könyvnyomda, 1939. Maxwell, Alexander. Everyday Nationalism in Hungary. 1789 – 1867. Berlin/Boston: W. de Gruyter, 2019.

Bibliography

273

McCagg, William O. Jewish Nobles and Geniuses in Modern Hungary. Boulder, Colo.: East European Quarterly, distributed by Columbia Univ. Pr., 1972. Mendes-Flohr, Paul. “The Study of the Jewish Intellectual: A Methodological Prolegomenon” [1982]. In Divided Passions; Jewish Intellectuals and the Experience of Modernity, by Paul Mendes-Flohr, 22 – 53. Detroit: Wayne State Univ. Pr., 1991. Mendes-Flohr, Paul, and Reinharz, Jehuda, eds. The Jew in the Modern World; a Documentary History. 3rd ed. New York and Oxford: Oxford Univ. Pr., 2011. Mestyán, Ádám. “Materials for a History of Hungarian Academic Orientalism – The Case of Gyula Germanus (1884 – 1979).” Die Welt des Islams 54 (2014): 4 – 33. Mestyan, Adam. “Ignác Goldziher’s Report on the Books Brought from the Orient for the Hungarian Academy of Sciences.” Journal of Semitic Studies 60 (2015): 443 – 480. Mestyán, Ádám. “The Ethics of Kowledge: Religio Academici Reconsidered.” In Religio Academici, edited by Losonczi et al., 214 – 239. Molendijk, Arie L. “Ernst Troeltsch über Friedrich Schleiermacher’s Auffassung von der Kirche.” In Aufgeklärte Religion und ihre Probleme. Schleiermacher – Troeltsch – Tillich, hrsg. Ulrich Barth, et al., 365 – 381. Berlin/Boston: De Gruyter, 2013. Morrissey, Fitzroy. “Jewish-Muslim Symbiosis, Islamic Hellenism, and the Purpose of Islamic Studies: the Humanistic Legacy of Samuel Stern’s Teachers.” Journal of Modern Jewish Studies 20 (2021): 421 – 453. Moshfegh, David. Ignaz Goldziher and the Rise of Islamwissenschaft as a ‘Science of Religion. PhD diss., University of California at Berkeley, 2012. https://digitalassets.lib. berkeley.edu/etd/ucb/text/Moshfegh_berkeley_0028E_12988.pdf. Moshfegh, David. “Race, Religion and the Question of the Orient in Islamwissenschaft.” In Der Orient. Imaginationen in deutscher Sprache, edited by Salaymeh et al., 95 – 139. Moskovits, Aron. Jewish Education in Hungary (1848 – 1948). New York: Bloch, 1964. Motzki, Harald. The Origins of Islamic Jurisprudence. Meccan Fiqh before the Classical Schools. Translated by Marion H. Katz. Leiden etc.: Brill, 2002. Mukai, Naoki. “H. Steinthal: A Psychologist of the Jewish People.” European Journal of Jewish Studies 6 (2012): 275 – 296. Munkácsi, Bernát, “Pályám kezdete” [The beginnings of my career], Izraelita Tanügyi Értesítő 50, no. 1 – 3 (1925): 15 – 19; no. 4 – 5: 59 – 65 Németh, Gyula. “Keleti filológia” [Oriental philology]. In A magyar tudománypolitika alapvetése, edited by Zoltán Magyary, 111 – 114. Budapest: Tudományos Társaságok és Intézmények Szövetsége, 1927. Németh, Gyula. “Akadémiánk és a keleti filológia” [Our Academy and oriental philology]. Budapesti Szemle 211, no. 611 – 613 (1928): 80 – 95. Németh, Julius [Gyula]. “Goldziher’s Jugend.” Acta Orientalia Hungarica 1 (1950 – 51): 7 – 24. Neumann, Ede. “A boroszlói rabbigyülekezet” [The Rabbinic Synod of Breslau]. MZsSz 4 (1887): 507 – 511. Neumann, Ede. “Geiger Ábrahám.” Magyar Zsidó Almanach, edited by József Patai, 1 (1911): 59 – 65. Niewöhner, Friedrich. “Der Gefangene von Budapest: Ignaz Goldziher (1850 – 1921) zwischen Tora und Koran.” In “Im vollen Licht der Geschichte”. Die Wissenschaft des Judentums und die Anfänge der kritischen Koranforschung, edited by Dirk Hartwig et al., 131 – 143. Würzburg: Ergon Verlag, 2008.

274

Bibliography

Nyíri, J. C. [Kristóf], “Collective Reason: Roots of a Sociological Theory of Knowledge,” in Tradition and Individuality, by J. C. Nyíri, 25 – 38. Dordrecht: Springer, 1992. Obermeyer, Jacob. Modernes Judentum im Morgen- und Abendland. Wien: C. Fromme, 1907. Oblat, Frigyes. “Székesfehérvárott, márc. 28, 1861” [In Székesfehérvár, March 28, 1861]. Magyar Izraelita 1, no. 14 (1861): 112. Olender, Maurice. The Languages of Paradise. Race. Religion, and Philology in the Nineteenth Century. Translated by Arthur Goldhammer. New York: Other Press, 2002. Ormos, István. “The Correspondence of Ignaz Goldziher and Max Herz.” In Goldziher Memorial Conference, edited by Apor and Ormos, 159 – 201. Ormos, István. “Goldziher’s Mother Tongue: A Contribution to the Study of the Language Situation in Hungary in the Nineteenth Century.” In Goldziher Memorial Conference, edited by Apor and Ormos, 203 – 243. Ormos, István. “David Kaufmann and His Collection.” In David Kaufmann Memorial Volume: Papers Presented at the David Kaufmann Memorial Conference, November 29, 1999, Budapest, Oriental Collection, Library of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, edited by Éva Apor, 127 – 196. Budapest: [Library of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences], 2002. Ormos, István. “Adalékok Pröhle Vilmos alakjához” [Remarks on the figure of Vilmos Pröhle]. Keletkutatás (Spring 2012): 33 – 65. Ormos, István. Egy életút állomásai. Kmoskó Mihály 1876 – 1931 [Stages of a career. M. Kmoskó 1876 – 1931]. Budapest: Magyar Egyháztörténeti Enciklopédia Munkaközösség, 2017. Patai, Raphael. “The Seminary and Oriental Studies.” In The Rabbinical Seminary of Budapest, 1877 – 1977, edited by Moshe Carmilly-Weinberger, 184 – 193. Patai, Raphael. Ignaz Goldziher and His Oriental Diary: A Translation and Psychological Portrait. Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1987. Paul, Herman. “Introduction; Scholarly Personae in the History of Orientalism, 1870 – 1930.” In Scholarly Personae in the History of Orientalism, 1870 – 1930, edited by Engberts and Paul, 1 – 16. Perdue, Leo G., ed. Scribes, Sages, and Seers. The Sage in the Eastern Mediterranean World. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2008. Perles, Felix. Jüdische Skizzen. 2nd ed. Leipzig: G. Engel, 1920. Perls, Ármin. “A reformált izr. egyház” [The reformed Isr. denomination]. MZsSz 3 (1886): 120 – 123. Piroska, Dezső. “Osztern Salamon dr.” In A budapesti II. kerületi M. Kir. Állami Toldy Ferenc Gimnázium […] Értesítője az 1937/38. iskolai évről [Bulletin of the “Ferenc Toldy” Hungarian Royal State High School of the II. District of Budapest for the 1937/38 schoolyear], 3 – 5. Budapest: the Director of the school, 1938. Plessner, Martin (Meir). "‫ תולדות חייו ופעלו המדעי‬,‫[ "יצחק יהודה גולדציהר‬Yitzhaq Yehuda Goldziher, his life and scholarly activities]. In ‫[ הרצאות על האיסלאם‬Hebrew translation of Idem, Vorlesungen über den Islam], by Goldziher, 289 – 309. Jerusalem: Mossad Bialik, 1951. Powers, Paul R. Intent in Islamic Law. Motive and Meaning in Medieval Sunnī Fiqh. Brill: Leiden and Boston, 2006. Poznanski, Samuel. "‫"פרופ' יצחק יהודה )איגנאץ( גולדציהר; ליום מלאת לו שבעים שנה‬. Ha-Tsefira Tammuz 12, no. 5680 (1920): 2. Preissler, Holger. “Ignaz Goldziher in Leipzig – Ein ungarischer Jude studiert Orientalistik.” In Leipziger Beiträge zur jüdischen Geschichte und Kultur 3 (2005): 293 – 315.

Bibliography

275

Prepuk, Anikó. “Incomplete Emancipation: the ‘Jewish Schism’ in the Context of Confessional Equality in Hungary.” Jewish Culture and History 21 (2020): 304 – 318. Priest, Robert D. “Ernest Renan’s Race Problem.” The Historical Journal 58 (2015): 309 – 330. [‐r], “A fővárosi talmud-tóra tanulóanyaga” [The student body of the Talmud Torah in the capital]. MZsSz 3 (1886): 635. Rabinovitch, Nachum L. ‫ כרך‬,‫משנה תורה לרבינו משה ב"ר מימון ]…[ עם פירוש יד פשוטה ]…[ ס' שופטים‬ ‫ב‬. Jerusalem: Maaliyot Pr., 2011. Rac, Katalin Franciska. “Arabic literature for the colonizer and the colonized: Ignaz Goldziher and Hungary’s eastern politics (1878 – 1918).” In The Muslim Reception of European Orientalism, edited by Heschel and Ryad, 80 – 102. Rapp, Ludwig. “Offene Anfrage an die Leiter der zu Folge des Programms vom Februar dieses Jahres in Breslau zu eröffnenden Seminars für Rabbiner und Lehrer.” Allgemeine Zeitung des Judenthums 18 (1854): 243 – 246. “Report on the Rabbinic conference held in Győr.” Egyenlőség 8, no. 30 (1889): 2 – 3. Rezsabek, Nándor. Az utolsó magyar polihisztor: Mahler Ede kronológus emlékezete [The last Hungarian polymath: The memory of the chronologist Ede Mahler]. Budapest: Aura, 2010. Richtmann, Mózes. “Arab vonatkozású tanulmányok magyar nyelven az utolsó négy évtizedben” [Studies related to Arabistics in Hungarian in the last four decades]. In Keleti tanulmányok. Goldziher Ignácz születésének hatvanadik évfordulójára írták tanítványai [Oriental studies. Written by his disciples on the occasion of his sixtieth birthday], 65 – 96. Budapest: Hornyánszky Viktor, 1910. Richtmann, Mózes. “Halacha.” Zsidó Szemle 13, no. 11 (1918): 9. Róna-Tas, András. Németh Gyula. Budapest: Akadémiai kiadó, 1990. Rosenberg, Sándor. “Vallásos költészet” [Religious poetry]. MZsSz 6 (1889): 93 – 96. Rosenzweig, Adolf. “Aus den Kinderjahren der ‘Lehranstalt für die Wissenschaft des Judentums.’” Ost und West 7 (1907): 719 – 724. Rosenzweig, Franz. “Atheistic Theology” [1914]. In Philosophical and Theological Writings, translated and edited by Paul W. Franks and Michael L. Morgan, 10 – 24. Indianapolis: Hackett, 2000. Rosenzweig, Franz. “Einleitung.” In Hermann Cohens jüdische Schriften, I, hrsg. Bruno Strauß, xiii–lxiv. Berlin: Schwetschke & Sohn, 1924. Said, Edward William, Orientalism. New York: Pantheon Books, 1978. Salaymeh, Lena, Yossef Schwartz, and Galili Shahar, eds. Der Orient. Imaginationen in deutscher Sprache. Göttingen: Wallstein Verlag, 2017. Salaymeh, Lena. “Deutscher Orientalismus und Identitätspolitik: Das Beispiel Ignaz Goldziher.” In Der Orient. Imaginationen in deutscher Sprache, edited by Salaymeh, Schwartz, and Shahar, 140 – 157. Saleh, Fauzan. Modern Trends in Islamic Theological Discourse in Twentieth Century Indonesia. A Critical Survey. Leiden: Brill, 2001. Saperstein, Marc. “The Simpleton’s Prayer: Transformations of a Motif in Hebrew Literature.” Judaism 29 (1980): 295 – 304. Sarna, Nahum M. “Abraham Geiger and Biblical Scholarship.” In New Perspectives on Abraham Geiger. An HUC-JIR Symposium, edited by Jakob J. Petuchowski, 17 – 30. New York: Ktav, 1975.

276

Bibliography

Schack, Béla, and Frigyes Vincze. A kereskedelmi oktatásügy fejlődése és mai állapota Magyarországon. Budapest: Franklin-Társulat, 1930. Schapkow, Carsten. Role Model and Counter-model. The Golden Age of Iberian Jewry and German Jewish Culture during the Era of Emancipation. Translated by Corey Twitchell. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2016. Schechter, Solomon. “His Majesty’s Opposition.” In Seminary Addresses and Other Papers by Solomon Schechter, 239 – 244. n.p.: The Burning Bush Pr., 1959. Scheiber, Sándor. “Goldziher Ignác levelei Löw Immánuelhez” [I. Goldziher’s Letters to I. Löw]. Új Élet (December 12, 1946): 8. Scheiber, Sándor. “A Supplementary Bibliography of the Literary Work of Ignace Goldziher.” In Ignace Goldziher Memorial Volume, I, edited by Samuel Löwinger and Joseph de Somogyi, 419 – 429. Budapest: n.p., 1948. Scheiber, Alexander [Sándor], ed. The Kaufmann Haggadah. Budapest: Publishing House of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, 1957. Scheiber, Sándor. “Eötvös József levele Bloch (Ballagi) Mórhoz” [The letter of József Eötvös to Mór Bloch (Ballagi)]. Református Egyház 7 (1955): 520. Scheiber, Alexander. “Max Nordau’s Letters to Ignace Goldziher.” Jewish Social Studies 18 (1956): 199 – 207. Scheiber, Sándor. “Addenda to the Bibliography of Goldziher.” In Ignace Goldziher Memorial Volume, II, edited by Samuel Löwinger, Alexander Scheiber, and Joseph Somogyi, 209 – 214. Jerusalem: Rubin Mass, 1958. Scheiber, Sándor. “Letters of Solomon Schechter to William Bacher and Ignace Goldziher.” Hebrew Union College Annual 33 (1962): 255 – 275. Scheiber, Sándor. “[Review of: R. Graves and R. Patai,] Héber mítoszok.” Új Élet 24, no. 22 (1969): 2. Scheiber, Sándor. “[Review of:] Carmilly-Weinberger, M.: Book and Sword (New York, 1966).” Magyar Könyvszemle 86 (1970): 281. Scheiber, Sándor. “Bacher Vilmos ébresztése” [Awakening V. Bacher]. Új Élet 25, no. 2 (1970): 2. Scheiber, Sándor. “Alte Geschichten in neuem Gewande [V.].” Fabula 12 (1971): 90 – 96. Scheiber, Sándor. “Kohlbach Bertalan és a zsidó néprajz” [B. Kohlbach and Jewish ethnography] [1948]. In Folklór és tárgytörténet [Folklore and Motif History], I, by Sándor Scheiber, 437 – 449. 2nd ed. Budapest: Magyar Izraelita´k Orsza´gos Ke´pviselete, 1977. Scheiber, Alexander [Sándor]. “Le folklore juif dans la Revue des Études Juives.” Revue des Études Juives 139 (1980): 19 – 37. Scheiber, Sándor. “Goldziher Ignác.” In Folklór és tárgytörténet [Folklore and Motif History], vol. III, by Sándor Scheiber, 537 – 565. Budapest: Magyar Izraeliták Országos Képviselete, 1984. Scheiber, Sándor. “Előszó” [Preface]. In Napló, by Goldziher Ignác, 5 – 15. Scheiber, Sándor. “Goldziher Ignác.” In Az iszlám kultúrája by Goldziher Ignác, 1065 – 1082. Scheiber, Sándor, and Zsoldos, Jenő. Ó mért oly későn… – Levelek Kiss József életrajzához [“Oh why so late”: Letters to the Biography of József Kiss]. Budapest: Magyar Izraeliták Országos Képviselete, 1972. Schimmel, Annemarie. Gabriel’s Wing: a Study of the Religious Ideas of Sir Muhammad Iqbal. Leiden: Brill, 1963.

Bibliography

277

Schindler, Josef. "‫"עמנואל לעף‬. In ‫חכמת ישראל במערב אירופה‬, edited by S. Federbush, 314 – 329. Jerusalem – Tel-Aviv: n. p., 1958. Schmelczer, Hermann Imre. “Goldziher Ignác beadványa az Országos Rabbiképző Intézet tantervének ügyében” [The memorandum of I. Goldziher concerning the curriculum of the National Rabbinical Seminary]. In Hetven év: Emlékkönyv Schweitzer József hetvenedik születésnapja […], edited by György Landeszman and Róbert Deutsch, 127 – 136. Budapest: n. p., 1992. Schmidtke, Sabine. “‘Er versinkt aber in einem Meer von Handschriften’: Friedrich Kern (1874 – 1921) and His Studies on the Dogmatic History of Ḥanafism and Māturīdism.” In Sammler – Bibliothekare – Forscher. Zur Geschichte der orientalischen Sammlungen an der Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin, edited by Sabine Mangold-Will, Christoph Rauch, and Siegfried Schmitt, 315 – 386. Frankfurt a. M.: V. Klostermann, 2022. Schorsch, Ismar. “The Myth of Sephardic Supremacy.” Leo Baeck Institute Yearbook 34 (1989): 47 – 66. Schorsch, Ismar. “Leopold Zunz on the Hebrew Bible.” Jewish Quarterly Review 102 (2012): 431 – 454. Schorsch, Ismar. “Beyond the Classroom: The Enduring Relationship between Heinrich L. Fleischer and Ignaz Goldziher.” In Modern Jewish Scholarship in Hungary, edited by Turán and Wilke, 119 – 156. Schorsch, Ismar. Leopold Zunz. Creativity in Adversity. Philadelphia: Univ. of Pennsylvania Pr., 2016. Schön, Dávid. “A középiskolai hitoktatás” [Religious education in high-schools]. MZsSz 3 (1886): 362 – 365, 421 – 424, 572 – 573. Schön, Dávid. “Válaszul Hochmuth Ábrahám főrabbi úrnak” [Response to Chief Rabbi Abraham Hochmuth]. MZsSz 4 (1887): 123 – 127. Schreiner, Márton. “A zsidó istenitiszteletről” [On Jewish liturgy]. MZsSz 6 (1889): 220 – 238, 344 – 351. Schreiner, Martin [Márton]. Die jüngsten Urteile über das Judentum. Berlin: Siegfried Cronbach, 1902. Schulze, Reinhard. “Islam und Judentum im Angesicht der Protestantisierung der Religionen im 19. Jahrhundert.” In Judaism, Christianity, and Islam in the Course of History: Exchange and Conflicts, hrsg. Lothar Gall und Dietmar Willoweit, 139 – 165. München: R. Oldenbourg, 2011. Schweiger, Márton, Frigyes Halász, and Ignác Goldziher. “Jelentés a pesti izr. hitközség hitoktatásáról az 1877[!]/8-iki tanévben” [Report on religious education in the Jewish Community of Pest in the 1877[!]/8 school-year]. MZsSz 5 (1888): 501 – 510. Schweitzer, Gábor. “A haladó/neológ rabbiság útkeresése a 19 – 20. század fordulóján. A győri rabbiértekezlettől az Országos Rabbiegyesület megalakulásáig” [The quest of progressive/Neolog rabbis at the turn of the 19 – 20th centuries. From the rabbinic conference of Győr to the establishment of the National Rabbinical Association]. In Magyar zsidó identitásminták, edited by Iván Zoltán Dénes, 132 – 148. Budapest: Ráció, 2019. Sebestyén, Károly. “Goldziher Ignác, az ember” [1932]. In MésJ, 22 – 28. Sefer Ḥasidim, ed. Jehudah Wistinetzki. Berlin: Mekizei Nirdamim, 1891

278

Bibliography

Silber, Michael K. “The Historical Experience of German Jewry and its Impact on Haskalah and Reform in Hungary.” In Toward Modernity: The European Jewish Model, edited by Jacob Katz, 107 – 157. New Brunswick and Oxford: Transaction Books, 1987. Silber, Michael K. “The Emergence of Ultra-Orthodoxy: the Invention of a Tradition.” In The Uses of Tradition: Jewish Continuity since Emancipation, edited by Jack Wertheimer, 23 – 84. New York–Jerusalem: JTS, 1992. Silber, Michael K. “Ballagi, Mór.” In YIVO Encyclopedia of Jews in Eastern Europe, edited by G. D. Hundert, vol. 1, 114 – 115. Silber, Michael K. “Hungary: Hungary before 1918.” In YIVO Encyclopedia of Jews in Eastern Europe, edited by G. D. Hundert, vol. 1, 770 – 782. Silberfeld, Jakab. “Apró képek Goldziher életéből” [Snapshots from the life of Goldziher]. Egyenlőség 40, no. 47 (1921): 13. Simon, Róbert. Ignác Goldziher. His Life and Scholarship as Reflected in his Works and Correspondence. Budapest – Leiden: Library of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences – Brill, 1986. Simon, Róbert. Goldziher Ignác. (Vázlatok az emberről és a tudósról) [Ignác Goldziher. (Sketches on the man and the scholar)]. Budapest: Osiris, 2000. Sinkovics, István, ed. Az Eötvös Loránd Tudományegyetem története, 1635 – 1985 [The history of the Eötvös Loránd University]. Budapest: n.p., 1985. Smith, Jonathan Z. “Wisdom and Apocalyptic” [1975]. In Map is Not Territory; Studies in the History of Religions, by Jonathan Z. Smith, 67 – 87. 2nd ed. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Pr., 1993. Snouck Hurgronje, Christiaan. “Ignaz Goldziher.” In Verspreide Geschriften, edited by A. J. Wensinck, VI, 453 – 463. Leiden: Brill, 1927 [originally in De Gids 4 (1921): 489 – 499]. Snouck Hurgronje, Christiaan. “Goldziher Ignác.” Évkönyv, kiadja az Izraelita Magyar Irodalmi Társulat (1941): 98 – 111 [Hungarian translation of idem, “Ignaz Goldziher”]. Socin, Albert. “Die Unzulänglichkeit des Islam für christliche Einflüsse.” Die Warte des Tempels 52 (1897): 389 – 390. Somogyi, Joseph de. “My Reminiscences of Ignace Goldziher.” The Muslim World 51 (1961): 5 – 17. Sprenger, Alois. “Über das Traditionswesen bei den Arabern.” ZDMG 10 (1856): 1 – 17. Stampfer, Shaul, “Did the Khazars Convert to Judaism?” Jewish Social Studies n.s. 19 (2013): 1 – 72. Staud, Géza. Az orientalizmus a magyar romantikában [The orientalism in Hungarian Romanticism]. Budapest: Sárkány-Nyomda Műintézet, 1931. Steinherz, Jakab. “A székesfehérvári zsidók története visszaköltözésöktől a jelenig” [History of the Jews of Székesfehérvár from their return to the present]. MZsSz 10 (1893): 548 – 558; 11 (1894): 102 – 106, 177 – 190, 539 – 548, 623 – 637. Steinthal, Heymann. “Haman, Bileam und der jüdische Nabi” [1885]. In Zur Bibel und Religionsphilosophie. Vorträge und Abhandlungen, by Heymann Steinthal, 53 – 77. Berlin: G. Reimer, 1890. Steinthal, Heymann. “Das auserwählte Volk oder Juden und Deutsche” [1890]. In Über Juden und Judentum. Vorträge und Aufsätze by Heymann Steinthal, 12 – 17. Berlin: M. Poppelauer, 1906. Steinthal, Heymann. “Die Stellung der Semiten in der Weltgeschichte.” Jahrbuch für jüdische Geschichte und Literatur 4 (1901): 46 – 69.

Bibliography

279

Stern, Fritz. Einstein’s German World. Princeton: Princeton Univ. Pr., 1999. Stewart, Devin J. “Ejmā‘.” In Encyclopaedia Iranica, edited by Ehsan Yarshater, vol. VIII, 275 – 278. Costa Mesa, Calif.: Mazda Publishers, 1998. Strenski, Ivan, Durkheim and the Jews of France. Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Pr., 1997 Stroumsa, Guy G. The Idea of Semitic Monotheism, The Rise and Fall of a Scholarly Myth. Oxford: Oxford Univ. Pr., 2021. Sviri, Sara. Perspectives on Early Islamic Mysticism; the World of al-Ḥakīm al-Tirmidhī and his Contemporaries. London and New York: Routledge, 2020. Swartz, Merlin L., ed., tr., Studies on Islam (New York and Oxford: Oxford Univ. Pr., 1981) Syed, Mairaj U. “Ijma‘.” In The Oxford Handbook of Islamic Law, edited by Emon and Ahmed, 271 – 298. Szabolcsi, Lajos. Két emberöltő. Az Egyenlőség évtizedei, 1881 – 1931 [Two generations. Decades of Egyenlőség, 1881 – 1931]. Budapest: MTA Judaisztikai Kutatócsoport, 1993. [Szabolcsi, Lajos=] Secundus. “Goldziher Ignác jubileuma” [The jubilee of I. Goldziher]. Egyenlőség 29, no. 26 (1910): 4 – 5. Szilágyi, János György. “Mi, filológusok” [We philologists]. Antik Tanulmányok 31 (1984): 167 – 197. Szögi, László, and Zsidi, Vilmos. Dokumentumok a Keleti Kereskedelmi Akadémia történetéből, 1891 – 1920 [Documents from the history of the Oriental Commercial Academy]. Budapest: Budapesti Közgazdaságtudományi Egyetem Levéltára, 2007. Szögi, László. “A pesti egyetem történelmi szemináriuma” [The historical seminar of the University of Pest]. In Studia dedicata seminariis universitatis. Tanulmányok az egyetemi szemináriumokról, 132 – 139. Budapest: ELTE Állam- és Jogtudományi Kar, 2006. Szögi, László. “A Keleti Kereskedelmi Tanfolyam és a Keleti Kereskedelmi Akadémia története, 1891 – 1920” [The history of the Course for Oriental Commerce and the Oriental Commercial Academy, 1891 – 1920]. In Dokumentumok a Keleti Kereskedelmi Akadémia történetéből, by Szögi and Zsidi, 15 – 31. Teszler, Herman, “Kúnos Ignácz pályafutása” [The career of I. Kúnos], in Emlékkönyv Dr. Kúnos Ignácz tiszteletére (A Blau Lajos Zsidó Tudományos Társaság Évkönyve VII [5701 – 1941]) (Budapest, 1941): 9 – 23 Thulin, Mirjam. Kaufmanns Nachrichtendienst: Ein jüdisches Gelehrtennetzwerk im 19. Jahrhundert. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2012 Tillich, Paul, A History of Christian Thought, ed. Carl E. Braaten. New York and Evanston: Harper and Row, 1968 Trautmann-Waller, Céline, “Semites and Semitism: From Philology to the Language of Myth,” Philological Encounters 2 (2017): 346 – 367 Trautmann-Waller, Céline, ed., Ignác Goldziher. Un autre orientalisme? Paris: Paul Geuthner, 2011 Trautmann-Waller, Céline, “Histoire culturelle, religions et modernité, ou: y a-t-il une ‘méthode’ Goldziher.” In: Ignác Goldziher. Un autre orientalisme?, ed. C. TrautmannWaller, 115 – 138. Trefort, Ágoston. “Jelentés a Képviselőházhoz” [Report to the House of Representatives]. A Hon 18, no. 308 (1880) (n.p.). Turán, Sinai (Tamás), ‫ או מיתה או עני' – לתולדות המסורות על מבטם‬,‫" 'כל מקום שנתנו חכמים עיניהם‬ "‫ דימוייהן ולשונותיהן‬,‫ההרסני והקוטל של החכמים‬. Sidra 23 (2008): 137 – 205.

280

Bibliography

Turán, Sinai (Tamás). “Leopold Löw and the Study of Rabbinic Judaism – A Bicentennial Appraisal.” Jewish Studies / Maddae ha-Yahadut 48 (2012): 41*–75*. Turán, Tamás. “Two Peoples, Seventy Nations: Parallels of National Destiny in Hungarian Intellectual History and Ancient Jewish Thought.” In Between Minority and Majority. Hungarian and Jewish/Israeli Ethnical and Cultural Experiences in Recent Centuries, edited by Pál Hatos and Attila Novák, 44 – 73. Budapest: Balassi Institute, 2013. Turán, Tamás, and Carsten L. Wilke, eds. Modern Jewish Scholarship in Hungary: The “Science of Judaism” between East and West. Berlin/Boston: De Gruyter Oldenbourg, 2016. Turán, Tamás, and Carsten L. Wilke. “Wissenschaft des Judentums in Hungary: An Introduction.” In Modern Jewish Scholarship in Hungary, edited by Turán and Wilke, 1 – 34. Turán, Tamás. “Academic Religion: Goldziher as a Scholar and a Jew.” In Modern Jewish Scholarship in Hungary, edited by Turán and Wilke, 223 – 270. Turán, Tamás. “Ortodox, neológ: a magyar zsidó valláspártok elnevezéseinek történetéről” [Orthodox, Neolog. About the history of the names of Hungarian Jewish religious parties]. Regio 24 (2016): 5 – 37. Turán, Tamás. “Martin Schreiner and Jewish Theology: An Introduction.” European Journal of Jewish Studies 11 (2017): 45 – 84. Turán, Tamás. “‘As the Christians Go, so Go the Jews’ – Hungarian Judaism in Its Denominational Matrix in the Mid-Nineteenth Century.” Dubnow Institute Yearbook 16 (2017): 61 – 93. Turán, Tamás. “Sorsközösség: történeti vázlat egy közép-európai toposzról” [Community of fate: historical outline of a Central-European topos]. Regio 25 (2017): 5 – 30. Turán, Tamás. “Jewish Heterodoxy and Christian Denominationalism: Leopold Löw’s Comparative Perspective on Modern Hungarian Jewry.” Modern Judaism 38 (2018): 354 – 378. Turán, Tamás. “The Austro-Hungarian Beginnings of the Research on the ‘European Genizah’” [2018]. Zutot 17 (2020): 83 – 96. Ullendorf, Edward. “[Review of:] Alexander Scheiber (ed.): Ignaz Goldziher: Tagebuch.” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies 42 (1979): 553 – 555. Ungarisch israelitischer Congress, Az izraelita egyetemes gyűlés I–XXXIII. ülése: 1868 Deczember 14 – 1869 Február 23 [Sessions I–XXXIII of the Hungarian Israelite General Assembly: 14 December 1868 – 23 February 1869]. Pest: Pesti Könyvnyomda-részvénytársulat, 1869. Vajda, Béla. “Vallásoktatás” [Religious education]. MZsSz 8 (1891): 754 – 764; 9 (1892): 45 – 58, 125 – 146. Vámbéry, Ármin. “Egy tatár emlékirataiból” [Memoirs of a Tatar]. Huszadik Század 30 (1914): 1 – 22. van Ess, Josef. “Goldziher as a Contemporary of Islamic Reform.” In Goldziher Memorial Conference, edited by Apor and Ormos, 37 – 50. van Rahden, Till. “‘Germans of the Jewish Stamm’. Visions of Community between Nationalism and Particularism, 1850 to 1933.” In German History from the Margins, edited by Mark Roseman, Nils Roemer, and Neil Gregor, 27 – 48. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 2006.

Bibliography

281

Voigt, Friedemann. Vermittlung im Streit. Das Konzept theologischer Vermittlung in den Zeitschriften der Schulen Schleiermachers und Hegels. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006. von Kremer, Alfred. Geschichte der herrschenden Ideen des Islams: Gottesbegriff, Prophetie und Staatsidee. Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1868. von Savigny, Friedrich Karl. Vom Beruf unsrer Zeit für Gesetzgebung und Rechtswissenschaft. Tübingen: Mohr und Zimmer, 1814. Translated as Of the Vocation of Our Age for Legislation and Jurisprudence, by Abraham Hayward. London: Littlewood & Co., 1831. Waldapfel, János. “Magyar zsidó kultúra” [Hungarian Jewish culture]. Zsidó Évkönyv (az 5688. bibliai évre) 1 (1927/28): 178 – 183. Waldapfel, János. “Moritz Kármán, Leopold Löw’s Schüler und Liebling,” in Semitic Studies in Memory of Immanuel Löw, ed. Alexander Scheiber (Budapest, n.p., 1947), 177 – 183. Waszek, Norbert. Eduard Gans (1797 – 1839): Hegelianer–Jude–Europäer. Texte und Dokumente. Frankfurt a. M.: Peter Lang, 1991 Weiss Halivni, David. “Reflections on Classical Jewish Hermeneutics,” Proceedings of the American Academy for Jewish Research 62 (1996): 19 – 127 Weiss Halivni, David. Revelation Restored. Divine Writ and Critical Responses. Boulder, CO.: Westview Press, 1997 Weisz, Miksa, “Goldziher Ignácz. 1850 junius 22 – 1921 november 12,” Múlt és Jövő 11, no. 46 (November 18, 1921): 1 – 2. Widengren, Geo. “Early Hebrew Myths and Their Interpretation.” In Myth, Ritual, and Kingship: Essays on the Theory and Practice of Kingship in the Ancient Near East and in Israel, edited by S. H. Hooke, 149 – 203. Oxford: Clarendon, 1958. Wieneke, Ernst, ed. Caroline und Dorothea Schlegel in Briefen. Weimar: Gustav Kiepenhauer, 1914. Wiese, Christian. “Protestantisierung.” In Enzyklopädie jüdischer Geschichte und Kultur. Im Auftrag der Sächsischen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Leipzig, edited by Dan Diner, vol. 5, 37 – 40. Stuttgart: J. B. Metzler, 2014. Wildeboer, Gerrit. Die Literatur des Alten Testaments; nach der Zeitfolge ihrer Entstehung [1893]. Translated by F. Risch, 2nd ed. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1905. Wilke, Carsten. “From Talmud Torah to Oriental Studies: Itineraries of Rabbinical Students in Hungary.” In Modern Jewish Scholarship in Hungary, edited by Turán and Wilke, 75 – 98. Wilson, M. Brett. “The Failure of Nomenclature: The Concept of Orthodoxy in the Study of Islam.” Comparative Islamic Studies 3 (2007) [2009]: 169 – 194. Wohlgemuth, Joseph. “Etwas über die Termini ‘Orthodoxes und gesetzestreues Judentum’.” In Festschrift zum siebzigsten Geburtstage David Hoffmann’s, edited by S. Eppenstein et al., 435 – 453. Berlin: L. Lamm, 1914. Wokoeck, Ursula. German Orientalism: The Study of the Middle East and Islam from 1800 – 1945. New York: Routledge, 2009. Wolfson, Elliot R. Through a Speculum That Shines; Vision and Imagination in Medieval Jewish Mysticism. Princeton: Princeton Univ. Pr., 1994. Wolfson, Elliot R. “Jewish Mysticism: A Philosophical Overview.” In A History of Jewish Philosophy, edited by Daniel H. Frank and Oliver Leaman, 450 – 498. London and New York: Routledge, 1997. Wolfson, Harry Austryn. “The Double Faith Theory in Saadia, Averroes and St. Thomas.” Jewish Quarterly Review n.s. 33 (1942): 231 – 264.

282

Bibliography

[y. z.]. “A magyar keleti akadémia ügye” [The issue of the Hungarian Oriental Academy]. Magyar Tanügy 1, no. 7 (1872): 380 – 383. Yahuda, Abraham Shalom, hrsg., Bahya ibn Paquda. Kitâb al-hidâja ilâ farâ’id al-Qutûb. Leiden: Brill, 1912. Yahuda, Abraham Shalom. “Die Bedeutung der Goldziherschen Bibliothek für die zukünftige Hebräische Universität.” Der Jude 8 (1924): 575 – 592. Yahuda, Abraham Shalom. "‫ אישיותו ותכונותיו‬,‫[ "יצחק יהודה גולדציהר; ספרייתו‬Yitzhaq Yehuda Goldziher; his library, his personality and personal traits]. In idem, ‫עבר וערב‬, 205 – 228. New York, 1946. Yahuda, Abraham Shalom. "‫[ "גולדציהר המלומד והיהודי‬Goldziher the scholar and the Jew]. Hamizrah he-hadas 2 [1950/51]: 20 – 27. Zunz, Leopold. Gesammelte Schriften. 3 vols. Berlin: Louis Gerschel, 1875 – 76.

Images (Courtesy of the Hungarian Jewish Museum and Archives)

▴Figure 2: Goldziher’s study at home

◂Figure 3: Goldziher in 1863, as a bar-mitzvah https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285-015

284 

 Images

Figure 4: Goldziher in 1868

Figure 5: Goldziher in 1879

Images 

Figure 6: Goldziher, probably in the 1880s

Figure 7: Goldziher, probably in the 1900s

 285

286 

 Images

Figure 8: Goldziher, probably in the 1900s

Figure 9: Goldziher in his old age

Index Subjects academic study of Judaism (Wissenschaft des Judentums; “Science of Judaism”) 47 f., 55, 87, 98 – 100, 116 f., 120, 237, 239 – in Hungary 54, 57 – Judaic and Islamic studies 15, 26, 58, 95, 122, 133 Al-Azhar (academy; Cairo) 15, 135, 143 f anthropomorphism 200, 223 antidogmatism see dogma anti-imperialism see Goldziher, anti-imperialism anti-Zionism see Zionism antinomianism 226 f v anti-Semitism 59, 99, 148; see also Semitism antisemitism 8, 59 – 61, 84, 86, 88, 99, 148, 161, 205; see also Goldziher, antisemitic clichés apologetics see Goldziher, apologetics apperception 142, 208 f, 213 Austria-Hungary see Habsburg Empire authenticity 22, 138, 166, 206, 229, 231 f., 237 bar mitzvah see Goldziher, bar mitzvah Bedouins 143, 154, 204 Ben Chananja (journal) 121, 133 Bible 21, 88, 104, 163, 172, 189, 201, 225, 228, 234 f., 242 – Biblical scholarship 69, 92, 152, 194 f., 198 – Biblical criticism, source criticism 103 – 108, 117, 191, 195, 197, 200 f., 207 – in education 103, 109 – 114, 116 – see also prophecy; Goldziher, Mythology among the Hebrews bibliomancy 150 blessing 152, 223, 242 Blood Libel of Tiszaeszlár 86 Budapesti Szemle (journal) 78, 102, 148 https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110741285-016

calendar 170 f. Calvinism see Protestantism casuistry 21, 125 f., 159, 182 “Catholic Israel” 127; see also klal Yisrael Christianity, Christians 41 f., 133, 181, 193, 196, 206, 209 f. – Catholicism, Catholics 2 f., 36 – 40, 42 f., 45 f., 63, 181, 192, 208, 228, 230 – missionizing 94, 155 f. – Romanian 227 – see also conversion; Protestantism colonialism 48, 80 f., 140, 154 – 159 Commercial Academy (Kereskedelmi Akadémia; Budapest) 79 common/communal sentiments/convictions 128 – 132 “consensus” (ijmā‛) 21, 126 – 132, 167, 175, 178, 182 f., 188, 242 conversion 56 – to Christianity 8, 41 – 46, 62, 216, 228 – to Islam 62 “cosmopolitanism” (universalism) 149, 151 f. Course for Oriental Commerce (Keleti Kereskedelmi Tanfolyam; Budapest) 79 Course for Oriental Languages (Budapest) 79 curse 67, 152 – 154, 223 f. Dār al-‘ulūm (Cairo) 179 demythologization 144 de-orientalization 15, 73, 239 dogma, dogmatism, antidogmatism 127, 130, 173, 181, 193, 198 – 201, 228 f. Dohány Synagogue 41, 243 Dönmeh 216, 218 f. East and West 49, 78, 205, 241 “educated public/consciousness” 108, 114, 128, 168, 174

101,

288

Index

education 37, 40, 43, 51 f., 206 – 208 – in Egypt 68, 110, 179 f. – Jewish 2, 5, 39, 64, 71, 100 – 102, 213 f., 217 – see also Goldziher, education, views on “Eötvös group” 7 – 11, 33, 45, 86 ethnography 138, 146, 158 f. ethnopsychology (Völkerpsychologie) 10, 146 f., 213, 238 etic-emic 22, 144, 169 “external sciences” see secular knowledge Finno-Ugric (languages, peoples, studies) 49, 52, 54 f., 215 folk psychology see ethnopsychology folk spirit (Volksgeist) 129 – 131, 138, 168 folklore 124, 139, 158 f., 194 formalism see casuistry genealogy 140 German Jewry 8 – 10, 38 – 41, 73, 164, 170, 185, 196 Gesellschaft zur Förderung der Wissenschaft des Judentums see Society for the Advancement of Jewish Scholarship Goldziher, Ignaz – ancestry 1, 72 – anti-imperialism, anti-colonialism 81, 154 – antisemitic clichés and sentiments 73, 148 – anxiety and depression 64, 66, 213 – apologetics 16, 19, 178, 240 – Arabic literature, concept of – asceticism 87, 226 – bar mitzvah 5, 154 – bibliography 19, 30 f., 87 f., 139 – biography 1 – 7, 20, 27 f., 33, 86 – collectivist values 238 – correspondences 6, 9, 22, 28, 30 – 32, 68, 90, 161, 191, 202, 211 f., 215, 220 – 222 – courses taught – at the University of Budapest 80 f., 91, 115 – at the Rabbinical Seminary of Budapest 115

– at the Calvinist Theological Seminary of Pest 140 – death and burial 1, 59, 202, 244 – 247 – diaries 28 – 30, 32, 64 – 72, 176 f., 247 – 249 – education, views on 21, 107 – 118, 128, 132, 173 – 175, 181, 185 f., 199, 208, 238 – emigration 233 f. – The Essence and Evolution of Judaism (lecture series) 89 – 91, 95 f., 101. 113 f., 128, 150 f., 166, 173, 190, 199 f. – freethinking 23, 229 f. – harmonious soul/worldview 207, 228, 230 f., 241 – Hebrew University, memorandum on 115 f. – honors 11 – 13, 71 f., 85, 225 – Hungarian intellectual/social/academic circles 12 f., 74, 77 f., 85 – Islamic reform/renewal 16, 169 f., 175 – 186; see also tradition, self-reflection – Jewish reform/renewal 14, 22, 109, 138, 143, 173 – 175, 187 – 189, 191 – Jewish theology 22, 69, 101, 108 f., 113 f., 116, 128, 168, 175, 189, 191, 194, 198, 231 – Judaism and Islam 166 f. – library 165, 197, 244, 246 – modernization 14, 20, 22, 36, 155, 180 – Mythology among the Hebrews (book) 104 f., 113, 117 f., 130, 134, 144 f., 203, 207 – “one truth” 230 – 233 – “oriental man” 68 – patriotism, nationalism (Hungarian) 208, 235 f. – pietism 14 – 16, 23, 134 – 137, 229 f., 232 f. – prayer 223 – 225 – professionalization 89, 92, 143, 151 – reception of his works 1, 28, 33 f., 91, 93, 111, 154, 178, 254 – religious pathos 64, 66 – religious practices 222 – 226 – residence 4 f., 12, 202, 243 – ressentiment 203, 240 f. – scholarly program 87 – 99, 196

Index

– scholarship, scholarly ethos 15, 17, 23 – 27, 66, 107, 173 f., 221 – self-censorship 100, 166, 190 – style 19, 240 – suicide of his son 6, 244 f. – Talmudic learning 85, 121, 160, 232 – attitude towards Talmudic learning 21, 201, 227, 232 – value system 11, 63 – working conditions 10 f., 70 f., 240 – World War I 6, 75 – see also education; Hebrew language; Hungarian Jewry; Jewish Community of Pest, Jewish-Arab coexistence; Neologs; prophecy; reform; travel; Zionism “Greek wisdom” see secular knowledge Habsburg Empire / Austria-Hungary 12 f., 36 f., 40, 48, 55, 75 f., 80, 154 f., 237, 241 – “Compromise” (1867) 3, 36 f., 42, 207 – see also Hungary; Islam, status of Hadith 85, 119 f., 122, 133, 176 halakha see Jewish law Hasidism 134, 167 heart 137 Hebrew language 109 f. Hebrew University (of Jerusalem) 210; see also Goldziher, Hebrew University, memorandum on hermeneutics 21, 192, 195 – harmonization 194 f. higher criticism see Biblical criticism Historical School of Law 130, 184, 189 historicism 20, 26, 55, 170, 189, 191 Hochschule/Lehranstalt für die Wissenschaft des Judentums (Berlin) 10, 97, 210, 214, 252 honesty, intellectual 114, 186 f., 194; see also hypocrisy Hungarian Academy of Sciences (Magyar Tudományos Akadémia) 4, 42 – 44, 62, 71, 90, 94, 197, 216, 218 f., 221 Hungarian Cultural Centre of the Orient 82 Hungarian Ethnographic Society (Magyar Néprajzi Társaság) 51, 139, 217

289

Hungarian Jewry 37 – 41, 172 – assimilation 204 – Jewish Congress (1868 – 1869) 37, 39, 216, 251 – Jewish liberalism 237 f. – Neologs, Neology 37 – 39, 57 f., 107, 109, 166, 172, 174 f., 181, 189, 207, 209 – 212, 222, 228 f., – 240 – “numerus clausus” law 59 – Orthodoxy 5, 12, 37 – 39, 121, 181, 227 – 229 – patriotism 75, 234 f. – progressives 36, 121, 172, 209 – role in Hungarian society 13 – schism 37, 40, 189, 193 – “status quo” 172 – see also conversion; education, Jewish; “Eötvös group”; Jewish Community of Pest; Jewish emancipation Hungary, Hungarians 13, 48 f., 157, 236 – revolution and war of independence (1848 – 1849) 36 f., 42, 48, 236 Huns 49 hypocrisy, hypocrites 107, 153, 227; see also honesty, intellectual identity politics 123, 140, 164 ijmā‛ see “consensus” imperialism 34, 154; see also colonialism; Westernization incarnationism 134, 167, 200 intention 135 – 137 Islam 159 f. – influences on 97, 119, 124 – Christian influences on 179 – Jewish influences on 16, 124 – orthodoxy 180 – 182 – sects 133, 192 f. – Shiism 133 f., 167, 200 – status of, in Austria-Hungary 80 – see also education, in Egypt; Goldziher, Islamic reform; incarnationism; Islamic law Islamic law and jurisprudence 119 – 129, 133, 135 – 137, 176, 178 f.

290

Index

– comparative Islamic and Jewish law 122 – 126 – schools of 146, 170, 177, 179 f. – see also casuistry; consensus; intention; Hadith; Talmud, Talmudic parallels to Islamic sources Israelite Hungarian Literary Society (Izraelita Magyar Irodalmi Társulat) 68 f., 210 f., 235 Izraelita Magyar Irodalmi Társulat see Israelite Hungarian Literary Society Jahiliyya 143 Jewish Community (Neolog) of Pest 3, 5 f., 70 f., 112, 216 f, 227 Jewish emancipation, post-emancipation 8, 17, 36 – 38, 41 – 43, 45, 73, 85, 164, 206, 225, 235, 238 Jewish law (halakha) 39, 120 f., 171 f., 179; see also casuistry; consensus; tiqqun olam Jewish Literary Society (Jüdisch-Literarische Gesellschaft; Berlin) 95 Jewish Theological Seminary of America 172 Jewish theology 131, 186, 190 f., 201 – continuous revelation 192 – see also Goldziher, Jewish theology; tiqqun olam Jewish-Arab coexistence 165 Judaic/Jewish scholarship see academic study of Judaism Judaism, Jewishness 160 – “confessionalization” 181 – as ethnicity/race/people 160 – 166 – festivals, second day of 170 – 172, 184 f. – Islamic influences on 123 – Oral Law 120 – 122, 124, 133 f., 252 – orthodoxy 171, 181, 185, 214, 252 – Positive-Historical 22, 172, 174, 188 – progressive 16 – 18, 108, 171 f., 179 f., 206 – rabbinic authority 170 f – “reasons for the commandments” 231 – reasons for religious norms and practices 171 – Sephardic 1, 72 f.

– synagogue cult 175 – and tribal identity 199, 206 – see also dogma; Hasidism; Jewish theology, Jewish law; marginal Jew; reform; Shulchan Arukh; tiqqun olam; prophecy; religion, catechism Karaism, Karaites 130, 218 Kaufmann Collection (Budapest) 90, 94 Keleti Kereskedelmi Akadémia see Oriental Commercial Academy Keleti Kereskedelmi Tanfolyam see Course for Oriental Commerce Keleti Szemle see Oriental Review Kereskedelmi Akadémia see Commercial Academy Khazars 56 f. klal Yisrael (see also “Catholic Israel”) 174 language 142, 201 – and literature 22 – linguistics and jurisprudence 201 law 170, 201; see also Islamic law; Jewish law; Historical School of Law legalism see casuistry Lutheranism see Protestantism Magyar Keleti Kultúrközpont see Hungarian Cultural Centre of the Orient Magyar Néprajzi Társaság see Hungarian Ethnographic Society Magyar Tudományos Akadémia see Hungarian Academy of Sciences Magyars 12, 40, 47 – 49, 57, 235, 237; see also Hungary Magyarization 38 marginal Jew (Grenzjude) 8 – 10, 33, 66 mimicry 204 f., 216 monotheism 145, 147, 149 Mormons 142 Mutakallimūn 137 Muʿtazilah 214 mysticism 16, 87, 134 – 137, 180, 187 mythology 104, 141, 144 f., 147, 149, 198; see also Goldziher, Mythology among the Hebrews

Index

“national sciences” (in Hungary) 48, 51 f., 54 nationalism 24, 49 f., 75, 149 f., 163, 237 – Arab 76 f. – liberal 17, 22, 37, 54, 77, 151, 234 f., 237 f. Neologs, Neology see Hungarian Jewry new moon/month, declaration of see calendar “non-Jewish Jew” 9, 132 “numerus clausus” law see Hungarian Jewry Oriental Academy (Orientalische Akademie; Vienna) 46 Oriental Commercial Academy (Keleti Kereskedelmi Akadémia; Budapest) 50 f., 55, 62, 80, 216 Oriental Review (Keleti Szemle) 51, 54, 216 f., 220 Oriental Seminar (Keleti Szeminárium; University of Budapest) 52 f., 61, 80 oriental studies 15, 46 – 48, 52 – 55, 158 – and imperialism/colonialism 155 – 159 – see also Semitic philology orientalism 34, 73 – Hungarian 46 – 54, 57, 78, 215, 220 – see also de-orientalization Országos Rabbiképző Intézet see Rabbinical Seminary of Budapest orthodoxy see Islam; Judaism Ostjuden (East European Jews) 12, 73 Ottoman Empire/rule 36, 46, 49, 218 palimpsest (cultural metaphor) 17 f. Pharisaism 120, 126, 191, 201 piyyut see poetry poetry 143, 158 – hiğā’-poetry 153 f. – piyyut 121, 237 Positive-Historical Judaism see Judaism, Positive-Historical prophecy, prophets (Israelite) 25 f., 73, 92, 94, 101 – 104, 111, 141, 145, 149 – 153, 163, 190, 200 f., 208, 229, 235 Protestantism 40, 44, 49, 106, 177, 196, 201, 211

291

– Calvinism, Calvinists 36, 40, 140, 151, 196, 216 – Lutheranism, Lutherans 36, 106, 222, 227 – Protestant theology 16, 25, 130, 185, 196 f., 242 – Protestantization 38 – Unitarianism, Unitarians 3, 36 Psalms 66, 153, 223 f., 226, 242, 244, 246 f. Quran 55, 119 f., 125, 133, 137, 143, 145, 169, 178, 194 Rabbinical Conference of Breslau 172 Rabbinical Conference of Győr 250 f. Rabbinical Seminary of Breslau 24, 210, 214, 252 Rabbinical Seminary of Budapest (Országos Rabbiképző Intézet) 4, 39, 43, 56 – 59, 61, 71, 74, 90, 107, 109, 114 – 118, 161, 185, 191, 210 – 212, 221 f., 227 reform, renewal (religious) 14, 16 f., 22,109, 138, 152, 169 – 192, 211, 229 – bottom up 22, 39, 131, 170, 188 – top bottom 22, 39, 110, 131, 170 – in Islam see Goldziher, Islamic reform – in Judaism 16, 169 – 175, 179 – 189, 252 f. – see also tradition religion – asceticism 87, 136, 142 – catechism 106, 179 f., 199 – history of 141 – 143, 207 – Israelite 141 – national 141 f. – popular 167 f., 228 – Muslim 167 – psychological factors in 141, 146, 149 – residual phenomena 141, 159 – saints, cult of 141 – and science 100 f., 187 – survival in 167 – syncretism 141 – universalist 141

292

Index

Sabbatianism 218 f. “Science of Judaism” see academic study of Judaism science of religion 16, 26, 109, 114 – 116, 138, 140 – 142 scholars/sages 24 – 27 – in Antiquity 24, 27, 102 – in Judaism and Islam 102 f. secular knowledge 108, 146, 180 Semitic philology/studies 2 – 4, 11, 24, 44, 46, 52 f., 56, 59, 61 f., 91, 93, 98, 210, 230, 237, 248 Semitism 68, 87, 146 – 148, 237 – and gender 148 – and receptivity 147 f. Sephardic/Sephardim see Judaism, Sephardic Shiism, Shiites see Islam, Shiism Shulchan Arukh 39, 211, 252 f situationism 240 f. Society for the Advancement of Jewish Scholarship (Gesellschaft zur Förderung der Wissenschaft des Judentums) 96 Stoics 25 Sufi mystics and mysticism 136 f., 146, 230 Sumerian (language) 50 ta‘amei ha-mitzvot see Judaism, “reasons for the commandments” Talmud 27, 133 – Talmudic criticism 133 f., 195 – Talmudic sources 170 f., 239, 254 – Talmudic parallels to Islamic sources Preface, 119 f., 124 f. – Talmudic archaeology 195 f. – see also Goldziher, Talmudic learning Talmud Torah (Jewish educational institution) 111 theology 131, 149, 185 – and politics 141, 185 – faith and reason 187, 189 – God, concepts of 142, 149, 200 – Jewish see Jewish theology – letter and spirit 126, 131, 201

– mediating (Vermittlungstheologie) 183 f., 228, 230 – Protestant see Protestantism – see also continuous revelation; dogma; demythologization Tiktin-Affair 131, 173, 186, 188 tiqqun olam 179 tradition, traditions 125, 131, 173, 183 – living and dead 22, 189, 191, 201 – local Preface; 185 – oral 120, 124, 198 – self-reflection, historical and critical 100, 169 f., 173 f., 176 f., 182 f., 235 travel / study tour / field trip Preface, 2, 5, 7, 13 f., 44, 55, 139, 204, 217 f. Turanian Society (Hungary) 53, 81 – 83 Turanism 49, 51, 61, 80 – 82 Turkey/Turks 36, 47, 49 f., 52, 155, 182 Turkology/Turkists 49, 53 f., 215, 218 universalism see “cosmopolitanism” University of Berlin 2 f., 10 University of Kolozsvár (Cluj) 3, 45 University of Leipzig 2, 19, 58, 210 University of Madrid 99 University of Pest/Budapest 2 – 5, 7, 10 f., 40, 42 – 45, 51 – 53, 55, 58 – 62, 71, 79 f., 91, 197, 216, 226, 243 University of Prague 96 University of Vienna 3, 74 Ural-Altaic (languages, peoples) 50 f., 62 Volksgeist see folk spirit Völkerpsychologie see ethnopsychology Westernization 140, 154 f., 241; see also imperialism Wissenschaft des Judentums see academic study of Judaism World War I 9, 34, 36, 49, 52, 80, 82, 96, 161, 238; see also Goldziher, World War I Zeitgeist 138, 150, 168, 211 Zionism, anti-Zionism 38, 160 – 165, 238 f.

Index

293

Personal and Place Names (contemporary authors are included insofar as their work is commented upon)

Abduh, Muhammad 178, 183 Abraham (patriarch) 103 Ady, Endre 65 Al-Ghazali, Muhammad ibn 23, 91, 129, 134 – 137, 230, 143, 175 f., 179, 188, 226, 230 Al-Shidyak, Ahmad Faris 155 Alexander, Bernát 7, 43 – 45, 86 Alexander, Franz 9 Altmann, Alexander 16 Amos (prophet) 152 Amsheet/Amchit 229 Andrássy, Gyula 3 Aristotle 141 Asín Palacios, Miguel 99 Auerbach, Jakob 173 Austria-Hungary 30, 36, 75, 80, 156, 237, 241

Blau, Joshua 28 Blau, Lajos (Ludwig) 246 Bloch, Mór see Ballagi, Mór Bloch, Moses 4, 232 Bosnia-Herzegovina 80 f., 154 Brassó (Braşov) 227 Braun, Salamon 113 Breslau 24, 74, 172 f., 186, 210, 214, 233, 252 Brill, Samuel Löw 131, 227, 232, 240, 242 Buda 3 Budenz, József 51, 215 Budapest 3, 51, 55, 58, 69, 112, 127, 143, 163, 175, 177, 199, 213 f., 224 f., 241, 243, 245, 251 Bukovina 40 Büchler, Adolf 215 Büchler, Sándor 59, 91

Bacher, Vilmos (Wilhelm) 4, 31 f., 57, 70, 74, 102, 107 f., 111 f., 127, 137, 175, 201 f., 211, 221 f., 225, 235, 246 Baeck, Leo 24, 198 Baḥya ibn Paquda 16, 23, 87, 91, 134 – 137, 187, 226, 230, 242 Ballagi, Aladár 44 Ballagi, Mór 34, 42, 44, 78, 107, 196 f., Baneth, David Hartwig 58 Bánóczi, József 7, 10, 43 f., 69, 86, 161, 209, 235 Bar Qappara (rabbi) Preface Baur, Ferdinand Christian 197 Becker, Carl Heinrich 6, 67, 85, 123, 154 Beke, Ödön 55 Berecz, Antal 46 Berger, Katalin 1 Berlin 10, 40, 47, 72, 89, 93, 95, 97 f., 122, 139, 154, 172, 189 f., 210, 214 f., 252 Berthelot, Marcellin 63, 228 Bickell, Gustav 98, 230 Bileam 67, 153 f., 238

Cairo 2, 5, 15, 135, 179 Cambridge 4 Central Europe 8, 10, 12, 17, 22 f., 27, 32, 46, 58, 65, 72 f., 98, 133, 158, 164, 181, 184 f., 238, 241 f. Chorin, Aron 179, 195, 201 Cicero 24 f. Cohen, Hermann 24, 137 Conrad, Lawrence I. 15, 32 f., 64 f., 68, 70, 135, 154, 177 f., 190 Cook, Michael 124 Copenhagen 95, 97, 177 Czeglédy, Károly 29, 61 f., 248 Dabashi, Hamid 33 Damascus 2, 5, 139, 193 De Wette, Wilhelm Martin Leberecht Delitzsch, Franz 95, 225 Denmark 97 Derenbourg, Hartwig 254 DeSomogyi see Somogyi Dévényi, Kinga 31 f., 203, 234

197

294

Index

Diamant, Mór 251 f. Dozy, Reinhart 225 Egypt 2, 13, 34, 36, 110, 139, 155 f., 167, 169, 172, 183, 194 Eichhorn, Johann Gottfried 195 Einstein, Albert 8, 33 Elbogen, Ismar 97 Eleazar, son of R. Simeon (rabbi) 254 Elisabeth (Queen) 12 Elsass, Bernát 96 England 75, 159 Ewald, Heinrich 197 Eötvös, József 2 – 7, 11, 37, 41 – 45, 75, 78, 86 – 88, 129, 164, 196, 206, 237 Eötvös, Loránd 4 Fejér, Lipót 3 Fischer, Gottlieb 121 Fischer, Gyula 251 Fleischer, Heinrich Leberecht 2, 19, 34, 46, 91, 93, 133, 148, 159, 203, 210, 225, 240 Fodor, Sándor 29, 248 Fokos-Fuchs, Dávid 55 Fraisse, Ottfried 33, 96, 131 f. France 58, 159, 165 Frankel, Zacharias 22, 24, 120 f., 125, 131, 133, 170, 172 – 174, 183, 188 f., 201, 250 – 252 Freud, Sigmund 8 Freudenberg, Mária 6 Freudenberg, Moses Wolf 5 f., 87, 160, 226, 232, 240, 242 Friedländer, Israel 96, 254 Galicia 12, 40, 72 Gans, Eduard 100 Geiger, Abraham 22, 26, 34, 93, 95, 100, 105 – 107, 113, 116 f., 120, 129 – 131, 133 f., 137, 172 – 175, 184, 186 f., 189 – 195, 198, 201, 204, 211 f., 221, 242, 250, 252 f. Germanus, Gyula 62 Germany 2, 5, 8 f., 37, 40, 44, 82, 87, 121, 155 f., 159, 164 f., 185, 187, 189, 196, 207, 212, 215

Gfrörer, August Friedrich 198 Ghazali see Al-Ghazali Glaser, Eduard 10 f. Goitein, Shlomo Dov 28 f., 58, 98, 123, 222 Goldzieher, Adolf 1 Goldzieher, Vilmos 226 Goldziher, Károly 28 f., 31, 104, 221, 244 – 247, 249 Goldziher, Mrs. (Laura; née Mittler) 248, 245 Goldziher, Maria 1 Goldziher, Miksa (“Misi”) 6, 245, 248 Goldziher, Sándor Ignác 245 Göttingen 47, 115 Graetz, Heinrich 95 Graf, Karl Heinrich 92 f., 207 Grau, Rudolf Friedrich 148 Grunfeld, Frederic V. 8, 33 Grünwald (Greenwald), Leopold (Yekutiel Yehuda) 225 Győr 251 f. Gyulai, Pál 78 Haber, Peter 33 Hahn, István 28 Halevi, Yehuda 72, 91, 130, 192, 228 Halévy, Joseph 139 Halivni see Weiss Halivni Hamburg 1, 72 Harnack, Adolf 96 Hartmann, Martin 97, 154 Hartmann, Richard 58 Hatam Sofer see Sofer, Moshe Hegel, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich 26, 93, 163, 191, 100, 142, 177 Heidelberg 4, 226 Heine, Heinrich 8, 17, 67, 73 Heinrich, Gusztáv 208 Helfy, Ignác 78, 81 Heller, Bernát (Bernard) 3, 29 – 31, 36, 57, 59, 67, 94, 97, 104, 112, 114 f., 120, 127, 160 f., 190, 207, 221 f., 227, 231, 246 Herbart, Johann Friedrich 142, 208 Herder, Johann Gottfried 163 Herman, Ottó 139 Herzl, Theodor 33, 160

Index

Heschel, Susannah 15 f., 19, 73 Hidvégi, Máté 114, 252 Hillel 179 Hinneberg, Paul 97 Hirsch, Samson Raphael 116 Hirschler, Ignác 216 Hochmuth, Abraham 113, 175 Hoffmann, Georg 98 Holdheim, Samuel 170, 172, 187 f. Hornyánszky, Aladár 59 Horovitz, Josef 58 Hübsch, Adolf 172 Ibn Khaldun 143 Ilea (rabbi) 254 India 62, 155 f. Jahn, Gustav 93 Jellinek, Adolf 133, 148, 163 Jesus 193 Joseph (biblical figure) 13 Joseph II (emperor) 38 Kafka, Franz 8, 33 Karabacek, Josef 90 Kármán, Mór 7, 31, 34, 43 f., 86, 93, 103 f., 107, 128, 142, 161, 163, 196, 206 – 211, 213, 226, 228, 230 f., 234 f. Karpeles, Gustav 96 Kaufmann, David 4, 32, 57, 71, 74, 87, 90 f., 94 – 96, 102, 106, 115 f., 195, 199, 202, 221, 246 Kayserling, Meyer 202 Kerényi, Károly (Karl) 24 f. Kern, Friedrich 177 Khan, Ahmad Sayyid 183 Kiss, József 199 Kmoskó, Mihály 59 – 61 Kohlbach, Bertalan 165, 175 Kohn, Samuel 5, 57, 71, 74, 107, 117, 199, 202 Kohner, Zsigmond 224 Kohut, Alexander 172, 174 Kohut, George Alexander 31 Kolozsvár (Cluj) 3, 45 Komlós, Aladár 2, 7, 40 f., 204 Kovács, Ödön 46, 140

295

Kölcsey, Ferenc 193 Kőnig, Gyula 44 Kőrösi Csoma, Sándor 46 f., 52, 55, 79 Krauss, Samuel 56, 105, 223 Kuenen, Abraham 140, 151, 207 Kúnos, Ignác 51, 53, 55, 57, 62, 215 – 220 Kuun, Géza 46, 62 Lafaire, Heinz 31 Landauer, Samuel 10 Lankwitz 215 Lazarus, Moritz 10, 163 f., 189, 210, 252 Lebanon 2, 139, 229 Leiden 2, 5, 120, 122, 225 Leipzig 2, 19, 58, 122, 139, 148, 153, 210, 225 Levin, Shemaryahu 115 Levy, Amit 115 Lewy, Israel 233 Ligeti, Lajos 61 f. Löw, Immanuel 4, 28 f., 34, 39, 45, 53, 56 f., 64, 69, 85, 89 f., 95, 108, 191 f., 209 – 213, 250 – 254 Löw, Leopold 57, 95, 114, 120 f., 133, 172 – 174, 179, 188, 192 – 196, 198 f., 206, 212, 250 Luzzatto, Samuel David 120, 124 Madrid 72, 99 Mahler, Ede (Eduard) 52 f., 57, 60 f., 234 Mahler, Gustav 8 Maimonides, Moses 72, 110, 117, 124, 131, 143, 187, 199, 223, 228 Marczali, Henrik 7, 43 – 45, 86, 206 Maria Theresa (empress) 46 Marx, Karl 8 Mecca 158, 224 Meisel, Alois 41 Mendelssohn, Brendel/Breindel 228 Mendelssohn, Moses 72, 228 Mestyan, Adam 77 Mészáros, Gyula 82 Mezey, Ferenc 235 Mittwoch, Eugen 31 Montesquieu, Charles Louis de Secondat 130, 205 Moravia 40, 72, 102

296

Index

Moshfegh, David 34, 102, 133, 154, 159, 176 – 178 Moses 103, 111, 125, 149, 197, 200, 239 Mottahedeh, Roy P. 77 Muhammad 125, 129, 143, 149, 151 Munk, Salomon 139 Munkácsi, Bernát 10, 43, 54, 57, 71, 112 f., 215 – 220 Müller, David Heinrich 11, 73 f. Müller, F. Max 203 Nathan, Nathan Max 96 Németh, Gyula 53, 59 – 62 Neubauer, Adolf 139 Netherlands, The (Holland) 46, 104, 159, 229 Neumann, Ede 112, 191 Nietzsche, Friedrich 241 Nordau, Max 31, 33, 165 North Africa 155 f. Nöldeke, Theodor 1, 25, 32, 34, 98, 133, 242 Nyíri, J. C. (Kristóf) 132 Obermeyer, Jacob 139 Óbuda 3 Olender, Maurice 143, 147 f., 178 Oppert, Jules 139 Ormos, István 29, 31 f., 59 – 61, 68, 94, 245 f. Osztern, Salamon Pál 55, 83, 254 Palestine 2, 114, 116, 139, 165 Pápa 173 Patai, Raphael 28, 31 f., 65 f., 68, 70, 177 Pauler, Tivadar 78 f. Perls, Ármin 252 f. Petőfi, Sándor 236 Philippson, Martin 96 Poincaré, Henri 3 Pollak, Isidor 96 Powers, Paul R. 136 f. Poznanski, Samuel 85, 87, 186, 254 Prague 40, 96, 251 Pröhle, Vilmos 61

Rac, Katalin F. 81 Rainer (Erzherzog/Archduke) 90 f. Reguly, Antal 47, 55 Renan, Ernest 47, 59, 62 f., 100, 104, 108, 139, 147 – 149, 180, 228 f., 231, 237, 240 Reuss, Eduard W. E. 92 f., 207 Richtmann, Moses 29, 185 Rijnsburg 229 Rosenzweig, Franz 196 Russia 163, 185, 216 Rückert, Friedrich 158 Sachau, Eduard 3, 98 Said, Edward 28, 33 f., 36, 154, 157, 204 Schaeder, Hans Heinrich 14, 65 Schechter, Solomon 127 Scheiber, Sándor (Alexander) 3, 19, 28 f., 31, 71, 74, 94, 105, 127, 139, 160, 165, 247 – 249 Schelling, Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph 130, 141 Schlegel, Friedrich 228 Schleiermacher, Friedrich 130, 187, 191 Scholem, Gershom 104 Schön, Dávid 113 Schreiner, Martin (Márton) 24, 59, 103, 112 f., 134, 147, 191, 199, 201, 213 – 215, 233, 239 Schwarz, Gusztáv 45 Schweiger, Márton 71 Simmel, Georg 3 Simon, Róbert 7, 31 – 33, 65, 77, 84, 88 f., 104, 120, 132, 154, 166, 178 Simonsen, David 95, 97, 253 Simonyi, Zsigmond 7, 9, 43 f., 86 Smith, George 147 Smith, Jonathan Z. 27 Snouck Hurgronje, Christiaan 6, 64, 122, 127, 154, 158 Socin, Albert 19, 99 Sofer, Moshe 184 Sokolow, Nahum 165 Somogyi, Joseph 29, 31, 62 Sprenger, Alois 120 Stein, Aurél 47 Steinschneider, Moritz 25, 89, 108, 117, 189

Index

Steinthal, Heymann 10, 68, 129, 134, 139, 142, 147, 163 f., 189, 208, 210, 222, 235, 238 Stern, Ábrahám 113, 173 Strack, Hermann Leberecht 94, 222 Strassburg 4, 98 Strauss, David Friedrich 197 Strenski, Ivan 132 f. Stumme, Hans 218 Syria 2, 139, 155 f., 161 Szabolcsi, Lajos 70 f., 105 Szászy-Schwarz see Schwarz Szeged 56, 210, 250 f. Székesfehérvár 1, 76, 121, 236, 250 Szliács / Sliač 250 f. Teleki, Pál 82 f. Thorbecke, Heinrich 159 Tiele, Cornelis Petrus 140 Tiszaeszlár 84 Transylvania 36, 45 f., 55, 227 Trefort, Ágoston 3, 78 – 80, 249 Trencsén / Trenčín 46, 250 f. Turán, Pál Preface Vajda, Georges (György) 16, 28, 58 Vajda, Gyula 46 Vámbéry, Ármin 2, 7, 9, 32, 34, 43 f., 47 – 49, 54, 62, 65, 74, 79 f., 86, 156 f., 196, 202 – 206, 215, 217, 220, 234, 239 Vámbéry, Rusztem 205

297

Vatke, Wilhelm 207 Vico, Giambattista 130 Vienna / Wien 3, 38, 40, 46, 50, 77, 83, 90, 98, 144, 148, 158, 178, 184, 210 van Ess, Josef 172, 177, 190 von Hartmann, Eduard 150 von Humboldt, Wilhelm 142, 163 von Kármán, Theodor 9 von Kremer, Alfred 124, 129, 158, 181 von Savigny, Friedrich Carl 122, 131, 184, 201, 242 von Stremayr, Karl Ritter 3 Wahrmann, Mór (Moritz) 32, 70 f., 74, 218 Wallerstein, Immanuel 33 Weil, Gustav 139 Weiss Halivni, David 29, 192 Wetzstein, Johann Gottfried 98, 139, 154, 204 Wickes, William 5 Wlassics, Gyula 80 Yahuda, Abraham Shalom 30, 67, 72 f., 99, 134, 160 f., 163, 165, 187, 190, 222 f. Yohanan (rabbi) Preface, 150, 153 Zachár, Gyula Zunz, Leopold 198, 233 Zweig, Stefan

81 48, 95, 106 f., 117, 191, 195, 33