Interpreting Judah Halevi's Kuzari

by Haim Kreisel

Academic Reading -- Motivation and Meaning

        A number of personal experiences have brought me into contact with people who continue to treat the Kuzari as a living text. They view it as a work that has lost little, if any, of its relevance over the course of time. Some regard as timeless truths Halevi's conception of the inherent superiority of the Jewish People and the Land of Israel, his approach to the purpose of Torah, and his mystical view of the messianic significance of aliyah. ¹ Others see in the Kuzari the response one can still give to a "philosopher" in defending the truth of Torah. They approach the text as Halevi's disciples, drinking in his words as if he were right there uttering them. It is very exciting to approach a text in this way, rather than treat it as a museum piece.
        What is the situation of those of us who have made our home in the academic world? Is the price we pay in upholding the critical scholarly approach to texts the sapping from them of their living vitality -- a price not paid by those who still actively identify with the teachings of the text as literally understood? We have it in our power to approach the Kuzari as a highly significant historic text -- a milestone in the annals of Jewish intellectual history. We can depict its fascinating approach, pieced together from a wide variety of Jewish and non-Jewish sources. We can focus upon the historically intriguing polemical arguments it presents. We can trace its profound influence on subsequent intellectual trends in Judaism, ranging from the kabbalists to some of the modern Jewish philosophers. But can we also approach it as a living text -- one that addresses us directly across time? Does not the intellectual milieu of the academic world preclude this option? Furthermore, are we capable of understanding it properly even as a "museum piece?"
        At this point I am brought back to my initial set of concerns. Once I may have treated the "scientific basis" for critical historical approaches, together with their inherent value, as self-evident truths. Today I can no longer do so. It is easy to see why it was once tempting to conclude that if one works hard, reads the text carefully, preferably in the language in which it was written, reads much of the literature that was at the author's disposal and which there is good reason to assume he was acquainted with, gains some understanding of the intellectual "climate" of his time, studies the works of other scholars who have dug into aspects of the author's thought, then one's labors would be rewarded with a "true" understanding of the text. Now one is constantly confronted with the view that at best one arrives at a possible "narrative" for understanding the text amidst innumerable other possibilities. Is there any justification for the critical approach to claim primary, if not exclusive, rights on how the Kuzari, or any text of the past, is to be read? Perhaps it is the critical-historical approach that is the most problematic one. Halevi notes the shortcomings of philosophy by pointing to the numerous disagreements among the philosophers in their quest for truth. In a similar vein, one can argue the shortcomings in the critical-historical approach by pointing out the numerous fundamental disagreements among scholars themselves on how to interpret Halevi's text. The endeavors of scholars may be likened to castles built on sand when one carefully examines the assumptions upon which they are based. As scholars, we have lowered our sights, aiming at historically true readings of the text instead of its timeless truths, but is even this goal really attainable? Have we not taken the "soul" out of the texts we study, while presenting only the corpse, and a disfigured one at that? By substituting "historical truth" for "timeless truth" have we not lost both in the bargain? Yet even if we assume for a moment that this is not the case, that arriving at a proper understanding of what were the author's thoughts as reflected by the written word is not a vain goal, why would one want to approach a text in this manner? What is it that motivates the "scholarly" reader? It is no longer so easy simply to answer: the truth.
        We have certainly become less naive than were the towering giants of the past as to the problems and limitations inherent in critical approaches. We must accede to the claim that we cannot be certain that any of our interpretations, no matter how meticulous the research done, has uncovered the author's intended meaning. No one ever denied that our analyses contain subjective elements. We inevitably bring much our own intellectual "baggage" to our interpretations, even more to the questions we raise, as well as a great deal of creativity. Our choice, however, is not between absolute historical truth and complete relativity. The line separating the plausible interpretation from the one that is false from a historical perspective, whatever other merits such an interpretation holds, may at times be a thin one that is hard to define. The line nevertheless exists. I see no reason to dismiss the common sense claim that author's thoughts are influenced by the intellectual trends of their environment, that the meaning they ascribe to terms is in accordance with the usage in their period and that serious authors write thoughtfully and with some "sense of the whole" of the work they are writing. Hence by studying all these things, one can catch a good glimpse the author's thoughts. ² Furthermore, different valid historical perspectives exist for understanding the texts of the past. In short, I am still not prepared to deny the validity of the critical-historical approach to the study of texts, I am just more aware of its problems. As for its value - this is quite another issue.
        I am driven to ask: What are my motives in approaching texts in this manner? The critical scholarly approach to texts is hardly value free, nor is it divorced from living concerns. Many of us were driven to this field not only by intellectual curiosity but also by existential and ideological motives. Scholarship in general is not entirely value free. This is particularly true of more parochial fields, such as Judaic studies. The great scholars of the Wissenschaft des Judentums who pioneered the critical study of Jewish civilization were in large part motivated by ideological concerns. Many of us inherited from them not only their critical approach and insights, but part of the same agenda that motivated them. Our approach to Judaic studies is integrally related to a crucial, and often acrimonious debate with Jewish intellectual fundamentalism. We turn to history in the attempt to counter this insistence on a narrow minded intellectual conformity. The depiction of traditional Judaism as an essentially closed, unchanging monolith is a myth. ³ The critical study of Jewish texts shows the breath of Jewish cultural achievements, the variety of conceptions, the changes in conceptions, and the profound impact of non-Jewish thought on what is regarded as traditional Judaism. We adopt critical approaches from our commitment to the view that they are the most intellectually honest way to understand the subject matter at hand. In this manner, we advance the cause of truth as we understand it. We also link ourselves to Jewish tradition at the same time that we embrace a critical stance. Critical-historical approaches serve as our armor in the war with intellectual fundamentalism for defining the boundaries of Jewish authenticity.
        The Kuzari is an important component in our arsenal, though most of us are far from identifying with Halevi's approach. Judaism's conservative "guardians" do not challenge the "orthodoxy" of this view of Judaism. As we dissect Halevi's particularistic conception, trace the many non-Jewish sources at its root -- in addition to his novel interpretation of Jewish sources, and depict the profound differences between it and other "orthodox" views of Judaism, we are in a sense striking a blow for intellectual diversity within the confines of "traditional" Judaism. We are arguing that today's attempts to grapple with the meaning of Judaism from an intellectual standpoint, attempts which often differ radically from yesterday's attempts, such as that of Halevi, and which draw upon non-Jewish as well as Jewish sources, are no less authentically Jewish as a consequence.
        Yet this living concern, bound up with an ideological agenda, does not completely alleviate the sense of loss that comes with the critical historical approach. In itself, it offers no way for texts to address us directly. The Kuzari is less important for what it has to say to us today than for the sources underlying it, its influences on subsequent trends, and its differences from other conceptions. This approach may save us from some embarrassing moments. It frees us from having to deal too seriously with Halevi's particularistic conception, one that borders on racism. We can treat it as Halevi's view, rather than the Jewish view. We are able to root it in the intellectual milieu of the time, as well as in the apologetic dimension of the work. Nevertheless, there remains something vacuous in dealing with an intellectual work only from a critical-historical perspective. This is true no matter how fascinating and significant that perspective is, and no matter how many embarrassing views it spares us from dealing with seriously.
        The academic world has known an additional approach to the Kuzari, one that treats the Kuzari as relevant today as at the time it was written. This is the philosophic reading of the Kuzari, best exemplified by Leo Strauss's monumental article, "The Law of Reason in the Kuzari." ⁴ Strauss had the philosopher's predilection to read all philosophic texts as living texts. Halevi, in his eyes, was the quintessential moral philosopher. In general, Strauss felt that the medieval philosophers, tied to their religious traditions, had a much keener insight into the perennial problems of political-moral philosophy than do the moderns. A straightforward intellectual historical approach to medieval philosophy undermines the immense profit to be gained by a philosophic understanding of these texts. It is immensely exciting to see the way a good philosopher reads texts, and Strauss was a first rate philosopher. His reading of the Kuzari, just as his reading of Maimonides' Guide of the Perplexed and Spinoza's Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, is an inspirational reading from an intellectual standpoint. He makes these texts talk to us, argue with us, teach us. Halevi is not so much defending Jewish particularism, in Strauss's reading, as providing a firm reasoned basis for morality against the unsound foundation provided by the philosophers. For Strauss too, when one talks to a "philosopher," particularly to a philosopher of morality, the Kuzari remains an indispensable work. The Kuzari in Strauss's hands is converted into a philosophic dialogue for our time, or rather, for all time.
        In reading Strauss, the "scholar" in me is tempted to shout out that he has misrepresented Halevi's thought. He has made Halevi over in his image, or at least read into Halevi his own concerns. His reconstruction of Halevi is highly imaginative fiction. This is the conclusion scholars often reach in reading philosophers' interpretations of philosophic texts. Yet one point even the "scholar" in me must concede. Strauss's interpretation of Halevi may be fiction, but at least it is inspired fiction.
        Strauss was not the first one, and certainly not the last, to offer a philosophic reading of the Kuzari in accordance with one's philosophic concerns. There is a general tendency that exists in departments of philosophy to reevaluate, or "translate," old philosophic texts in accordance with contemporary philosophic or intellectual trends. These readings bring out in me the struggle between the "scholar" dedicated to a historically accurate interpretation of the text, and the "philosopher" who is interested in what the text has to say in response to one's intellectual situation. Philosophic readings may at times be exceptionally exciting, but they often appear to me to do such violence to the text from a critical-historical perspective that one can hardly recognize the text at all, let alone arrive at the author's thought.
        The greatest challenge in my view is to interpret a text in a manner that does justice to the critical-historical perspective, at the same time allowing it to address "living" concerns. Can we enjoy the "best of both worlds," or must we constantly sacrifice one to the other? Many of us have struggled to balance these two concerns, with mixed results. It is certainly easier to wear only a single hat, or at least one hat at a time, in approaching a text. Often the attempt to combine these two concerns results in both bad scholarship and bad philosophy. Better to do one task well than two tasks poorly. Still, paying attention only to one at the expense of the other may result in losing the whole. As it is, scholars tend to be concerned primarily with the "part," digging deeply into a particular issue, more often than not, without conveying to the reader how the issue fits into the author's overall thought. In the remainder of this essay I would like to deal with my own sense of the "whole" of Halevi's Kuzari in a way that I feel does historical justice to Halevi's thought at the same time that it addresses my living concerns.