Interpreting Judah Halevi's Kuzari

by Haim Kreisel

Conclusions

        We are aware that there are perennial questions in philosophy. There also appear to be if not perennial answers, at least answers that every so often reappear in new guises. Platonic and Aristotelian approaches have never completely died out. They have assumed different forms. Even some of the pre-Socratics have had a remarkable longevity. One has only to witness the contemporary resurgence of Herakleitos in the guise of Derrida. The perennial question for anyone who is devoted to the human ability to rationally understand, and at the same time is part of, or confronted by, a religious tradition grounded in the idea of revelation, is the relation between the two. For Halevi the perennial question assumes the form of the relationship between Jewish tradition and Aristotelian philosophy, and not the relationship between morality and philosophy as Strauss had argued.
        Halevi's answer is to uphold Jewish particularism at all costs. This is Halevi's first loyalty, his primary commitment. He is intellectually driven to grapple with the philosophic world view, both to defend the particularity of Judaism and to understand it. The objective of the conceptual model he constructs, drawn in large measure from the model of the philosophers, is the depiction of the absolute superiority or uniqueness of the pillars of Judaism. Judaism is not seen as a form of expression of philosophical truths in a political-social setting, the view that underlies Maimonides' approach. For Halevi, its uniqueness is reflected by the complete separateness of Jews and Judaism from the rest of humanity and the other religions. At the same time they play a pivotal role vis a vis the rest of humanity.
        Halevi's dominant position in the history of Jewish thought -- his Kuzari serving as a counterbalance to Maimonides' Guide of the Perplexed -- can be traced primarily to his attempt to develop a philosophy stressing the uniqueness of Judaism in the shadow of the dominant philosophic world view. Maimonides' interpretation of Judaism as the best expression of universal philosophic truths vs. Halevi's adaptation of philosophic truths to serve as a foundation for Jewish particularism remain the two paradigm routes for anyone who takes the commitment both to Judaism and philosophy seriously. The clashes between the two areas are "resolved" by alternately arguing that it is not tradition that got it wrong, but the manner in which the "guardians" of tradition interpret it, or that philosophy is a source of truth, but the philosophers often go astray by drawing false or questionable inferences from true propositions. From this standpoint, Halevi's approach remains a viable model. Even some of its details can be retranslated into modern scientific conceptions.
        But was Halevi's predicament really our predicament? Halevi, like Maimonides after him, was caught between two visions of the world that both authoritatively claimed for themselves the label "true." Important aspects of the clash remain, more often in the form of a clash between science and religion, now that philosophy and science are independent of each other. But is the clash really the same? Science, as opposed to medieval Aristotelianism, does not deal with the world of the spirit. Philosophy has branched out into two dominant streams. One, characteristic primarily of Continental European thought, is rooted in arational approaches, It makes claims that are as unverifiable from an analytic perspective as are religious claims. The other, analytic philosophy, continues to uphold the rational tradition, while narrowing its focus. Analytic philosophy may dismiss religious claims as foundationless, or unsubstantiated nonsense, but it cannot prove them false. To be sure, analytic philosophers have produced arguments against religious claims that are logical in their structure, but for the most part, emotive in their content. Furthermore, this stream of philosophy has not provided a positive substitute to religion in understanding reality. The resulting situation is that scientific truths remain material truths, while philosophic truths either must stop short of the world of the spirit or venture into that world on the basis of an arational vision that is relative to its beholder. Religion is left with a large domain of its own in which it can exist basically unchallenged.
        But more than an adversary, philosophy has served as a catalyst for religious thought. The greater the challenge it posed to the heart of religion, the more dynamic the response it evoked. This is still evident in those areas touching upon religion that philosophy has something interesting and positive to say. No longer, however, does it offer an entire world view under the banner of rational truth. In reading the Kuzari and the Guide of the Perplexed from the perspective of their intellectual milieu, one is able to glimpse a bygone era that knew the clash of all encompassing truths, and provided the setting for religious thought to flourish. Perhaps it is not their continuous "relevance" that draws me to these works, but nostalgia.
        There is a further point that attracts me specifically to the Kuzari. In my reading, Halevi is not entirely convinced by all the conceptions he presents. He wavers between alternate conceptions. At times he goes so far as to question the very validity of his own philosophic enterprise, preferring the state of the unquestioning believer (II.26). Halevi's wavering between different conceptions, his uncertainty regarding certain views he presents and even about his enterprise, touches in me a responsive chord. While the numerous inconsistencies in his work may be viewed as detracting from the value of the work, and lend support to those who treat the work as more polemical than philosophical, I see them as giving the work its special philosophic character. Most of those who engage in the study of philosophy experience perplexity in seeking to resolve certain fundamental problems. Too often authors of philosophic works write in a manner that suggests that they feel they have adequately resolved the problems and are now prepared to serve as guides to the perplexed. Halevi also tries to be a guide to the perplexed, but his own perplexity remains all too transparent in his work. He remains in a process of trying to understand the object of his loyalty as he defends it.
        Halevi is too much the rationalist to be a Jew of simple faith, no matter how much he seeks to defend this approach. Nor is he suited to play the role of the intellectual dogmatist. He is a committed traditional Jew who continues to wrestle with the meaning of Jewish particularism in light the views of the philosophers. His story is a variation of the age old story of a person loyal to his religious tradition who is intellectually drawn to philosophy. While his work is written as a dialogue between the king and the Jewish sage, many of its passages reflect this deeper dialogue between Halevi and himself. No work I know shows a more vibrant inner dialogue between religion and philosophy, reflecting the intellectual-existential predicament of its author. It is not Halevi's answers with which I identify, but his perplexity.