Cordoba. There was a period in the Middle Ages when Cordoba on the Guadalquivir was the largest city in Europe. It was the capital of Moslem Spain and had a population of half a million.
The tenth century caliph Abd-Al-Rahman III was a tolerant ruler. Jews prospered under his regime and his capital was a flourishing center of Arab and Jewish culture.
The leader of the Jews was Hasdai ibn Shprut, court physician and intimate of the caliph. He held a high position in the government and was sent on various diplomatic missions.
During that period the spiritual leader of the community and head of the Yeshiva was Rabbi Moshe ben Hanokh. According to a tradition he had been brought to Cordoba as a slave by pirates who had captured him on the high sea. He was ransomed by the community and the local rabbi, recognizing the superior scholarship of the newcomer, resigned in his favor. Rabbi Moshe did much to raise the standard of Talmudic studies in Spain. His work was continued by his son and successor Rabbi Hanokh.
Shmuel HaNagid, one of the most colorful personalities of Spanish Jewry, was a native of Cordoba. A student of Rabbi Hanokh he eventually became a celebrated Hebrew poet and eminent Talmudist. He combined his scholarly and literary pursuits with public and communal activities. He was vizier of the Berber kings of Granada, commander of the Berber army and head of the Jewish community.
Cordoba Jewry’s most illustrious son, however, was Moses ben Maimon. He was born in that city where he spent his youth until the invasion of the Almohads forced the family to flee. For years they wandered through Spain, before settling in Fez, Morocco. Some years later they were uprooted again. For a short time they stayed in Palestine and then settled in Egypt where Maimonides was eventually to become the leader of the Jewish community and physician to the court.
In Egypt he completed the commentary on the Mishna which he began writing while wandering through Spain. There he also wrote his two other major works, the “Mishne Torah” and the “Guide of the Perplexed.”
In 1236—a little more than thirty years after the death of Maimonides—Cordoba was recaptured by the Christians after five hundred years of Moslem domination. A Jewish community continued to exist in the city until the Jews were expelled from there, following harassment and persecution, some years before the Jews were exiled from all of Spain in the year 1492.
The Jewish community of Cordoba is no more, but it lives on in the writings of its scholars, in the poems of its poets and in the annals of our people.
What has remained in Cordoba itself of the old Jewish community? The ancient Jewish quarter can still be seen, many of the houses dating back to the time when Jews still lived there—but there is nothing specifically Jewish about these houses.
One building, however, stands out: the old synagogue! Situated in the “Calle de lost Judios” (Street of the Jews), it symbolizes the Jewish past of the entire quarter.
Erected in 1315, it is designed in Moorish style. There is an antechamber, a large prayer hall and women’s gallery. Though after the expulsion of the Jews, the synagogue was used for various purposes, large parts of the exquisite wall decorations, including inscriptions of Hebrew verses, have been preserved. The large niche in the eastern wall which housed the ark is still intact. Near it is a Hebrew inscription which gives the year of the construction of the synagogue and the name of the builder. The four-line text concludes with a prayer that the L-rd may speedily rebuild Jerusalem.
Towards the end of the last century the Spanish authorities declared the building a national monument.
Many, many thousands of tourist flock to Cordoba to see the famous monuments of this historic city. They are also shown the synagogue.
On the way to the synagogue the tourist may pass the Plazuela de Maimonides, named so in modern times for the great sage.
Nearby is a statue of Maimonides. Erected in the 1960’s it graces a little square called “Plaze de Tiberiades,” for the city where the Rambam is buried.
Some Jewish tourists, visiting the synagogue, may have uttered silent prayers there, but when was there a Minyan last?
I know of two occasions in our time when Jews prayed BeTzibbur in the old Synagogue.
Once in 1935 when world Jewry celebrated the eighth centenary of the birth of the Rambam and special festivities were held in Cordoba. The other time was last Passover when the members of the first Jewish Heritage Tour to Spain visited the city.
Wednesday, April 26, the third day of Chol Hamoed Pesach. Early in the morning our group departed from the Las Palmeras Hotel in Fungeriola, on the Costa del Sol.
We were travelling to Seville to see the small synagogue of the newly established community and to tour the ancient Jewish quarter where Jews had lived until their expulsion from the city five hundred years ago.
About thirty Jews are now living in Seville. Most of them came from North Africa. In their small synagogue, located on the third floor in a private building, they hold services on Sabbaths and holidays. An elderly Jewish couple, living in the same building, take care of the Shul.
We visited this synagogue first. My son Samuel and I had already made an advance visit a week earlier and had told the couple to expect our group. Now I brought them a little gift from Neil Rothenberg, the organizer of the tour: A bottle of wine and a package of Matzot. The woman—her husband was at work—received us graciously.
American tourists are not great walkers, but even the not-so-young among us made it to the third floor to see the small Shul, organized and maintained by a handful of Jews living scattered in this large city.
From there we went on to the center of the town, to the Barrio de Santa Cruz. Narrow streets and lanes, small two-floor houses with patios, the plant and flower-filled courtyards, so typical of old Andalusia. If not for the guide books and two street signs ”Juderia,” an ordinary tourist would have never guessed that at one time this had been a completely Jewish quarter. Some of the adjacent areas had also been inhabited by Jews centuries ago. At least one church and one convent are housed in former synagogues. One street bears the name, “Levies.”
Time passed quickly and we were ready for lunch. Where could one eat in Seville, especially on Passover? No problem. There are a lot of places, provided you bring your food with you. We picked some benches in the beautiful Maria Lusisa Park and opened the lunchbags, prepared by our splendid cook Eliyahu ben Zaquen.
After a brief rest we were on the road again. Next station—Cordoba. We wanted to see the former Jewish quarter and to visit the old synagogue. It was late in the afternoon when we arrive there and I was worried that the synagogue might already be closed for the night. We got off the bus near the Almodovar Gate, which dates back to the time the city was under Arab rule. This gate had once been known as the “Bab Al Yahud” (The Jews’ Gate) because it led directly into the Jewish quarter. Passing through the gate we reached the “Calle de los Judios” and hurried to the synagogue. All of a sudden it began to pour. We were drenched when we arrived at the gates of the synagogue. To our great dismay we found it locked. I knew that the doorkeeper and his wife were living in an apartment facing the same courtyard but the question was whether they were in and if so whether they would open the synagogue after official hours. We knocked at the gates. No reply. When we knocked harder, we heard some shouting: “Si, si” (Yes, yes). A woman opened the gate, letting us into the courtyard, and then she opened the doors of the synagogue proper, as well.
What do Jews do when they enter a synagogue and it’s time to pray? They organize a Minyan. Wherever our group travelled, we took along a boxful of Siddurim. Peter Barron, our Hazan, who had conducted the Sedarim so beautifully, was in charge of the precious box. Now he was handing out the prayerbooks. Because the women’s gallery was closed, the ladies stood during the service in the antechamber. Peter acted as Shliah Tzibbur.
This was the second occasion in modern times that a Jewish prayer service was held in the old synagogue of Cordoba.
After the service, Mr. Joe Greenberg, a lawyer from Far Rockaway said to me: “It’s fantastic. The day before yesterday we davened Minha at a rest stop on Malaga-Granada highway. We had stood there between our two buses. Yesterday we said Minha at the beautiful, new synagogue of Marbella on the Costa del Sol, and now we are in this old Shul…”
Cordoba. There was a period in the Middle Ages when Cordoba on the Guadalquivir was the largest city in Europe. It was the capital of Moslem Spain and had a population of half a million. The tenth century caliph Abd-Al-Rahman III was a tolerant ruler. Jews prospered under his regime and his capital was a flourishing center of Arab and Jewish culture. The leader of the Jews was Hasdai ibn Shprut, court physician and intimate of the caliph. He held a high position in the government and was sent on various diplomatic missions. During that period the spiritual leader of the community and head of the Yeshiva was Rabbi Moshe ben Hanokh. According to a tradition he had been brought to Cordoba as a slave by pirates who had captured him on the high sea. He was ransomed by the community and the local rabbi, recognizing the superior scholarship of the newcomer, resigned in his favor. Rabbi Moshe did much to raise the standard of Talmudic studies in Spain. His work was continued by his son and successor Rabbi Hanokh. Shmuel HaNagid, one of the most colorful personalities of Spanish Jewry, was a native of Cordoba. A student of Rabbi Hanokh he eventually became a celebrated Hebrew poet and eminent Talmudist. He combined his scholarly and literary pursuits with public and communal activities. He was vizier of the Berber kings of Granada, commander of the Berber army and head of the Jewish community. Cordoba Jewry’s most illustrious son, however, was Moses ben Maimon. He was born in that city where he spent his youth until the invasion of the Almohads forced the family to flee. For years they wandered through Spain, before settling in Fez, Morocco. Some years later they were uprooted again. For a short time they stayed in Palestine and then settled in Egypt where Maimonides was eventually to become the leader of the Jewish community and physician to the court. In Egypt he completed the commentary on the Mishna which he began writing while wandering through Spain. There he also wrote his two other major works, the “Mishne Torah” and the “Guide of the Perplexed.” In 1236—a little more than thirty years after the death of Maimonides—Cordoba was recaptured by the Christians after five hundred years of Moslem domination. A Jewish community continued to exist in the city until the Jews were expelled from there, following harassment and persecution, some years before the Jews were exiled from all of Spain in the year 1492. The Jewish community of Cordoba is no more, but it lives on in the writings of its scholars, in the poems of its poets and in the annals of our people. What has remained in Cordoba itself of the old Jewish community? The ancient Jewish quarter can still be seen, many of the houses dating back to the time when Jews still lived there—but there is nothing specifically Jewish about these houses. One building, however, stands out: the old synagogue! Situated in the “Calle de lost Judios” (Street of the Jews), it symbolizes the Jewish past of the entire quarter. Erected in 1315, it is designed in Moorish style. There is an antechamber, a large prayer hall and women’s gallery. Though after the expulsion of the Jews, the synagogue was used for various purposes, large parts of the exquisite wall decorations, including inscriptions of Hebrew verses, have been preserved. The large niche in the eastern wall which housed the ark is still intact. Near it is a Hebrew inscription which gives the year of the construction of the synagogue and the name of the builder. The four-line text concludes with a prayer that the L-rd may speedily rebuild Jerusalem. Towards the end of the last century the Spanish authorities declared the building a national monument. Many, many thousands of tourist flock to Cordoba to see the famous monuments of this historic city. They are also shown the synagogue. On the way to the synagogue the tourist may pass the Plazuela de Maimonides, named so in modern times for the great sage. Nearby is a statue of Maimonides. Erected in the 1960’s it graces a little square called “Plaze de Tiberiades,” for the city where the Rambam is buried. Some Jewish tourists, visiting the synagogue, may have uttered silent prayers there, but when was there a Minyan last? I know of two occasions in our time when Jews prayed BeTzibbur in the old Synagogue. Once in 1935 when world Jewry celebrated the eighth centenary of the birth of the Rambam and special festivities were held in Cordoba. The other time was last Passover when the members of the first Jewish Heritage Tour to Spain visited the city. Wednesday, April 26, the third day of Chol Hamoed Pesach. Early in the morning our group departed from the Las Palmeras Hotel in Fungeriola, on the Costa del Sol. We were travelling to Seville to see the small synagogue of the newly established community and to tour the ancient Jewish quarter where Jews had lived until their expulsion from the city five hundred years ago. About thirty Jews are now living in Seville. Most of them came from North Africa. In their small synagogue, located on the third floor in a private building, they hold services on Sabbaths and holidays. An elderly Jewish couple, living in the same building, take care of the Shul. We visited this synagogue first. My son Samuel and I had already made an advance visit a week earlier and had told the couple to expect our group. Now I brought them a little gift from Neil Rothenberg, the organizer of the tour: A bottle of wine and a package of Matzot. The woman—her husband was at work—received us graciously. American tourists are not great walkers, but even the not-so-young among us made it to the third floor to see the small Shul, organized and maintained by a handful of Jews living scattered in this large city. From there we went on to the center of the town, to the Barrio de Santa Cruz. Narrow streets and lanes, small two-floor houses with patios, the plant and flower-filled courtyards, so typical of old Andalusia. If not for the guide books and two street signs ”Juderia,” an ordinary tourist would have never guessed that at one time this had been a completely Jewish quarter. Some of the adjacent areas had also been inhabited by Jews centuries ago. At least one church and one convent are housed in former synagogues. One street bears the name, “Levies.” Time passed quickly and we were ready for lunch. Where could one eat in Seville, especially on Passover? No problem. There are a lot of places, provided you bring your food with you. We picked some benches in the beautiful Maria Lusisa Park and opened the lunchbags, prepared by our splendid cook Eliyahu ben Zaquen. After a brief rest we were on the road again. Next station—Cordoba. We wanted to see the former Jewish quarter and to visit the old synagogue. It was late in the afternoon when we arrive there and I was worried that the synagogue might already be closed for the night. We got off the bus near the Almodovar Gate, which dates back to the time the city was under Arab rule. This gate had once been known as the “Bab Al Yahud” (The Jews’ Gate) because it led directly into the Jewish quarter. Passing through the gate we reached the “Calle de los Judios” and hurried to the synagogue. All of a sudden it began to pour. We were drenched when we arrived at the gates of the synagogue. To our great dismay we found it locked. I knew that the doorkeeper and his wife were living in an apartment facing the same courtyard but the question was whether they were in and if so whether they would opent the synagogue after official hours. We knocked at the gates. No reply. When we knocked harder, we heard some shouting: “Si, si” (Yes, yes). A woman opened the gate, letting us into the courtyard, and then she opened the doors of the synagogue proper, as well. What do Jews do when they enter a synagogue and it’s time to pray? They organize a Minyan. Wherever our group travelled, we took along a boxful of Siddurim. Peter Barron, our Hazan, who had conducted the Sedarim so beautifully, was in charge of the precious box. Now he was handing out the prayerbooks. Because the women’s gallery was closed, the ladies stood during the service in the antechamber. Peter acted as Shliah Tzibbur. This was the second occasion in modern times that a Jewish prayer service was held in the old synagogue of Cordoba. After the service, Mr. Joe Greenberg, a lawyer from Far Rockaway said to me: “It’s fantastic. The day before yesterday we davened Minha at a rest stop on Malaga-Granada highway. We had stood there between our two buses. Yesterday we said Minha at the beautiful, new synagogue of Marbella on the Costa del Sol, and now we are in this old Shul…” The rain had stopped and we strolled through the former Jewish quarter, making longer stops in front of the Maimonides statue on Plaza de Tiberiades, on Plazuela de Maimonides and on Plaza de Juda Levi, the last being named for the famous Hebrew poet and philosopher who lived in Cordoba for some time. ON the way back to Fungierola, we passed through Lucena, which long ago had been entirely populated by Jews. Rabbi Isaac Alfasi, the famous Talmudist taught in this city after he had fled to Spain from North Africa. Outside it was dark, but we were not bored for even one minute. Peter Barron entertained us with Hazanut and operatic arias.
Friday, Jewish Press May 26-June 9, 1978