An intriguing phenomenon which arose from the broad-based ethnic movement of the 1980s in Israel, was the attempt by musicians originating from Moslem countries to challenge the widely-held belief that oriental musical traditions have a folk background.
This belief, which most Israeli musicologists held at the time, implied that oriental musical traditions cannot be compared to classical western music, and thus do not command the same respect or prestige. Leaders of the ethnic movement in particular Jews with a Moroccan background responded by arguing that a form of erudite mystical-religious ceremonial music, known as baqqashot, should be placed on the same level as western classical music.
They were probably unaware that a similar claim had been advanced many years earlier regarding Arab-Andalusian music. The idea that "erudite" Arab-Andalusian music fits the definition of "classical" goes back to 1939, to Alexis Chottins study of Moroccan music. Some years later, in the 1950s, the groundwork was laid for the emergence of arguments similar to those put forward by the movement. Recently Christian Poche published a book in Paris on Arab-Andalusian music in which he states: "This term (classical Arab music) can be seen as a response to the colonial powers whose classical music became the quintessence of Western music. This other classical art, the remnants of Andalusian music, countered it."
Thus Jews and non-Jews, geographically far removed, put forward the same arguments in the same terms. This coincidence reinforces the main thrust of this article: what best defines the relationships between Moslem and Jewish musicians throughout the ages is their spirit of community. Here, "community" covers artists who share the same emotional experience, consider music to be a lifestyle, draw on the same theoretical and expressive norms for their music, and adhere to the values championed by both ancient and modern authors. This "language of the heart" not only overcame the language barrier, but enabled these musicians to develop a subtle and complex range of idiomatic expressions which remain difficult to categorize.
The aphorism that music, which is primarily symbolic and universal, is a means of bringing men closer, is found in a famous Arab tenth century treatise, the Ikhwan as-Safa ("The Sincere Brothers"). "Music," it states, "has one special quality that language cannot render clearly or express through speech: this is why the soul expresses it in the form of harmonious melodies." Strangely enough, this same concept appears much later in a Jewish saying cited by one of the spiritual leaders of the 18th century Hasidic movement: "Silence is worth more than words, but song is worth more than silence." The Hasidic movement, which attributed great importance to song and dance as a means of spiritual elevation, ascribed qualities to music which are similar to those described in the Ikhwan as-Safa.
The exodus of Jews from Morocco in the 1950s did not diminish this feeling of identity or devotion to the musical tradition of their homeland; rather it remained deeply rooted in the hearts of performers and their audiences. Comments by the folk music expert Alan Lomax shed light on this remarkable example of loyalty and bonding to a tradition transplanted far from its source: "The main effect of music is to give the listener a feeling of security because it symbolizes the place where he was born, the early satisfactions of childhood, the religious experience, the pleasure of being within a community."
Because Arab-Andalusian music was transmitted orally, and we possess no musical documents, the only way to gather information on this subject is from literary references, which are abundant. One late literary work is worth citing because it mentions a musical particularity that highlights use of the same musical language and style by both Jews and non-Jews. The passage is from a travel diary by the Italian Jewish poet and writer Samuel Romanelli, who arrived in Morocco in 1787 and stayed four years. After a lengthy description of the festive events characterizing a Jewish wedding in Tangier, including the songs and dances, Romanelli makes the following comment: "With respect to vocal music, Jews and non-Jews are alike; however each group sings in its own language. In their songs they are not restricted by the syllables of the text, they add na na ah between the letters often, taking the melodic line into account."
The highly developed taste for ornamentation and vocalization the distinctive feature of the vocal style of al-Andalus is one of the most typical features of North African song. Romanelli sees the language factor as the distinctive feature between Jewish and Arab song. This perspective is couched in much more subtle terms by Alexis Chottin, who was the head of the National Conservatory for Arab Music in Rabat: "The Jews," he writes in his Tableau de la musique marocaine, "continue to use Andalusian music as is; adapted to piyyutim, the equivalent of Moslem sama." Chottin also mentions the remarkable fact that when Hebrew texts are adapted to replace the original, they maintain the Arab metric and prosody, which, he points out, is not translation.
Were the Moroccan Jews of Israel in the 1980s arguing that baqqashot were their own brand of classical music, or were they claiming that it was a representative example of the classical Arab-Andalusian music to which they were so closely tied? I would personally opt for the latter. The first stance implies appropriation, and in my opinion this would be a totally erroneous way to perceive Jewish musicians and their public. Rather, what characterizes Moroccan Jews is their total identification with North African-Andalusian music and their deep love of it. It would be much more plausible that the choice of the baqqashot was aimed at highlighting the Jewish features of this "classical" music, to respond to the allegation that there was nothing specifically Jewish about the classical music they called theirs.
Baqqashot are an expressive, highly religious musical genre which at the same time forms the link between North African Andalusian music and Hebrew poetry. The ritual features of the baqqashot derive from the influence of mystical doctrines which gave them their spiritual dimension. In Jewish mysticism, prayers and songs are associated, and are perceived as means of elevating the soul towards the higher worlds. This spiritual exaltation imbues the faithful in this world, and gives them a taste of the splendour of the world to come.
Under the influence of the Zohar and 16th century Kabbalists of Safed, the custom developed of rising at midnight to chant hymns from the Psalms, refrains and baqqashot until dawn. The concomitant need for piyyutim (liturgical poems) stimulated the creativity of talented poets steeped in mystical doctrine. The baqqashot were accompanied by a wide variety of improvisations, in particular in Syria and Morocco, the two main centres for this poetic genre. The first of the great poets was Rabbi Israel Najjara, who was part of the circle of Kabbalists of Safed. His hymns were introduced in Syrian and Moroccan baqqashot. Even today baqqashot are sung after midnight between Fridays and Saturdays from Sukkot to Passover. The Moroccan baqqashot repertory is standardized. It is grouped into several series of piyyutim. These change, as does the dominant musical mode, according to the particular session.
The piyyutim in the Moroccan baqqashot were collected into anthologies. One, entitled Shir Yedidot, published in Marrakech in 1921, is still used today. The book contains 550 piyyutim covering 20 Sabbaths. Each group is composed in the mode corresponding to the specific day. Dodi yarad leganno ("My uncle went down to his garden") and Yedid nefesh ("Soul-mate") are sung every Sabbath, but the musical mode in which they are sung is adapted to the musical mode of the week, as is the case for Andalusian music, which is also organized into several weekly musical modes called tbaa.
The general structure and musical content of the Moroccan baqqashot relate them to the Arab-Andalusian model, the nuba, and its features, including the bitayn. Both the melody and their degree of sophistication reflect a deep affinity with the surrounding culture. This influence emerges even more clearly when the baqqashot are extracted from their customary framework and setting and are sung with instrumental accompaniment (there is a tacit ban to play instruments on the Sabbath).
So far this article has examined a common tradition and its veneration by Jewish musicians. I have also mentioned the issue of Arab and Jewish specificity. I now turn to the interactions which arose from contacts between Moslem and Jewish musicians as a common tradition developed. However, the major obstacle to the study of Andalusian music (as with any other oral tradition) is that the lack of written sources make it impossible to state with accuracy what derives from a Jewish and what from an Arab source.
Further, the problem of lack of accuracy in oral transmission is compounded by the prevailing concept of originality in this musical culture; the observer has a hard time differentiating between innovation and borrowing.
The best evidence needs to be gleaned from the source in mediaeval Spain, where the prototype of Arab-Andalusian music was born. After the Moslem conquest in 711, Spain was one of the most remarkable cultural meeting grounds for the three great religions and various ethnic groups. The facilitating intellectual climate at the court of Abd alRahman II and Abd alRahman III in particular, enabled men of great talent, regardless of religion, to distinguish themselves and contribute to the social and cultural symbiosis which was to characterize Andalusian culture as a whole, including the highly esteemed realm of music. Jews, who took an active part in the development of the new musical style, had lived for several centuries on the Iberian peninsula and served the Arab rulers. In all probability they possessed a repertoire of liturgical songs as well as a musical repertoire reflecting events in individual and community life. Could this ancient heritage have had an influence on the Arab-Andalusian style? Could it have survived by coexisting along with the new style which, as sources indicate, was adopted immediately and enthusiastically in synagogues and in everyday life?
Neither of these questions can be answered with total certainty today. Rather than speculating, it is worth examining the more or less convincing evidence for a Jewish role in musical activities. A number of distinguished Jewish musicians, along with their Arab counterparts, had the privilege of leaving written traces of their contribution. Because these Jews were cited by Arab authors, they were probably outstanding. The fact that their talent was recognized in the records of that time is additional proof that artists were considered to be part of a community.
The first eminent Jewish musician mentioned in the records is Mansur al-Yahudi, who was connected to the court of the Umayyad ruler al-Hakam at Cordoba. His name appears in the colourful story of the arrival in Cordoba of the famous Baghdadi musician Ziryab in 822. The events are described by the historian and biographer from Tlemcen al-Maqqarri (1591-1632) in his work Nafh al-Tib, in which he relies to a great extent on older source material by the Andalusian historian ibn Hayyan (987-1076).
In al-Maqqaris lengthy tale, Ziryab is described as being a highly talented musician and gifted innovator who became the chief musician as soon as he arrived at the court of Abd al-Rahman II in Cordoba. He is said to have created the music of his new country instantaneously in a single sitting. He is considered to have invented a whole series of musical forms including the twenty four nuba used in traditional music today. The story states that the musician Mansur al-Yahudi was the special messenger of al-Hakam. Ziryab, who was connected to the court of Harun al-Rashid, was forced to leave Baghdad to escape the jealousy of his former master, the famous musician Ishaq al-Mawsili, the head musician at the court of Harun al-Rashid. Al-Hakam sent Mansur to Ziryab - who had then settled at Kairwan - to beg him to come to Cordoba. In the meantime they learned of al-Hakams demise. Mansur pleaded with the new ruler Abd al-Rahman II, to send another invitation to Ziryab to settle in Cordoba, and according to al-Maqqaris account, he played a major role in the creation of a new style which distanced itself from any dependency on the sophisticated music of the oriental centres.
Al-Maqqaris detailed and picturesque history has been the delight of numerous music and literary specialists alike. Shortly after the death of the historian ibn Hayyan - who was the source for al-Maqqari - the great writer ibn Bassam (who died in 1147) described in his work al-Dhakhira, a sumptuous feast which took place at the palace of the governor of Toledo, al-Mamum. This feast was enlivened by a Jewish musician, al-Dani al-Israili, at the head of an ensemble which thrilled the guests. Praising the extraordinary talent of this musician, Ibn Bassam went so far as to claim that his talent surpassed that of the famous musician of Baghdad, Ibrahim al-Mawsili, the father of Ishaq al-Mawsili, the master of Ziryab.
The discovery of a new Arabic manuscript dating from the early 13th century and containing a large section on Andalusian music and its development sheds new light on the music of al-Andalus. It is a monumental encyclopaedia written by the Tunisian lexicographer Ahmad al-Tifashi (1184-1253). This work contains a chapter on music entitled Mutat as-asthma fi ilm alsama ("Pleasure to the ear in the study of musical science"). By including musical science in his work, al-Tifashi followed the example of the philosopher and theoretician of music, al-Kindi, as well as other authors. Secondly, al-Tifashi who never set foot in Andalusia describes the development of Andalusian music as a series of stages. In the first phase, the songs of the al-Andalusians drew on either the Christian style or the huda ("camel driver") style, which was one of the first musical genres of the pre-Islamic period. In later stages, it went through major upheavals introduced by Ziryab and culminated in the great reform carried out by the philosopher musician Ibn Bajja (died 1139), known in Europe as Avempace. In a chapter devoted to famous musicians at Cordoba, Ibn Said al-Maghribi gives a very flattering description of one Shimeon the Jew, whom he considers a genius of his time. He also says that he was a composer, a singer, an instrumentalist, and a theoretician, and adds that Shimeon followed in the steps of the philosopher and musician Ibn Bajja. This Shimeon could have been his disciple, or a follower and promoter of his innovative style.
In Chottins chapter on synagogal music in his Tableau de la musique marocaine, he argues that Jews are supporters of Andalusian music because "after a lengthy vacuum due to religious bans, when a new sultan was eager to return to tradition of the ancient caliphs by reconstituting a sitara (the palace chamber orchestra), he often recruited new musicians and new dancers from the mellah." It would be useful to have additional sources further confirming that Jewish musicians took part in musical activities in Morocco. Delacroix, who attended a Jewish wedding in Tangier in 1832 which he captured in a well-known painting, writes in his diary that the Jewish musicians of Mogador were the best in Morocco. In an article on Jewish groups in Morocco, Issachar ben-Ami mentions the rbaah (group) of Didi ben Sousi and Yossef Zdidi who were active in Mogador at the start of this century. He adds that the leader of a certain number of these groups was the Moslem Madhi ben Sota who included many Jewish musicians in his orchestra. When Mohammed V, the father of King Hassan II came to the throne, he visited Mogador where he was met by a group of Jewish musicians. Another famous group mentioned by the Israeli researcher is one under Samuel ben Hadan in Marrakesh which was called arbaah likbir, or "great ensemble" because it was made up of twice the standard number of four musicians. These groups and many others sometimes accompanied the synagogue paytanim, by singing religious hymns and baqqashot, but they also performed for non-Jews. Their virtuosity earned them the esteem of the rulers.
A well-known tale is illustrative of the presence of Jewish instrumental groups in the royal courts and the positive attitude of the rulers towards them. On the 9th of the month of Av, as the story goes, the Sultan wanted to hear the songs and music of a Jewish group which ordinarily performed at his court. He summoned the musicians to the palace. As painful as it was, the musicians could not refuse, but chose to play lamentations on this day of mourning which commemorates the destruction of the two Temples. The sultan greatly appreciated the pathos of these songs and asked what prompted them. The Jews explained that on this day of fasting they were forbidden to play music or rejoice. From then on they were known as the "Singers of Affliction."
This article has attempted to show that there has been a real sense of community among Jewish and Arab musicians, who have at times performed together. It is this spirit which has enabled the magnificent heritage common to both Jews and Arabs to be preserved and to have flourished throughout the ages.