The Eternal Jew’s Tale, #176, Abarbanel 5

In this episode, a return to the life and times of Don Isaac Abarbanel.

The Eternal Jew’s Tale
Twenty First Era, Part 1, 1492 C.E., Iberia
The Abarbanel Cycle, 5

The year be 1492. That’s 5252 counting from Berraysheet and God’s creating Adam and Eve. No worse year has ever been, since Rome destroyed Jerusalem. Distraught, dismayed, confounded, confused, helpless, furious, desperate, despairing, plundered, raped, murdered, expelled from this our long adopted home, which we helped build, story and stone. Our ideas and our hopes; our arts and our skills; our blisters and our sweat; our potions and our cures; our doctors and our midwives; our peddlers and our shopkeepers; our tradesmen and our laborers; our tailors and our seamstresses; our bakers and our cooks; our soldiers and our gendarmes; our bankers and our diplomats; them, and many another, as well, helped lift Spain from obscurity and make it a nation of power and wealth. And no logic, and no bribes, and no begging, and no threats could turn those two Jew-hatin’ dogs from tearin’ the throat of such loyal folk as us Jews. Such an evil act the Lor of all the worlds observed, and Spain’s future been mortgaged by it, a debt they may not ever pay off.

Abarbanel, like the rest of us, is forced to flee. Not all his wealth nor influence can avert the decree. When the soul of a nation begins to rot, hatred, like a noxious pus oozes thru the skin, most hideous.

In April when that brood of Amelek*, Isabile, Fartinand, and Turkeymode and all their lackey inquisitors issue their decree expelling us Jews, Abarbanel mobilizes his whole house, his friends, his acquaintances, those in his debt, to deter the crown; and in parallel track, to find a new home outside of Spain. But it’s one thing to challenge the king’s stand and try to extract some of your fortune from Isabile’s fist, and a very different and personal thing to listen to folk in the market place weepin’ their ruin and whisperin’ their rage. This be what I hear and see:
*-* see Shmot/Ex. 17 and Dev./Deut. 25:17-19

The crown announces the evil decree on the 23rd day of Adar 2, just 10 days after Esther’s fast*, and Amelek’s** attempt to destroy the Jews. The word spreads like a southern storm, stirrin’ up dust across the land, til every Jew been chokin’ on it, and many a Christian choked up too. And Muslims are a-tremble. When will the storm whip up and blow them into the sea?
* fast for Purim, rememberin’ Esther’s dilemma
** That is, Haman’s plan, Esther 3:1

First comes denial. In Segovia, here comes a porter bent in half with a load on his back. His staggerin’ steps with grunt and groan reach the door of a textile merchant who rushes out to unbind the straps. The bundle falls, and slow-like, the porter straightens in pain, to help carry the bolts inside. As they work the merchant, tremulous, asks,

“Whattaya hear? Is it really true we have to convert or leave Spain?”
“Proclamations, rumors, lies. I don’t trust nothin’ I hears these days.”

And across the square the chai seller serves a white-haired rabbi and his melamed.* The young teacher entreats the sage,
* primary school teacher

“Whattaya hear? Is it really true the king would support such a ruinous decree?”
“Never! They’re trying to extract a bribe to pay for their war with Muslims down south. I’ve seen it before, and not a few times. They’ll impoverish us, but they need us here.”

Then comes rage. In Zaragoza a few weeks later, Pesach time, at a seder the wise son bitterly asks,

“What mean these edicts? What purpose this decree?

And the rebellious son sharply replies,

“Maror is what they shove down our throats, decreed below and decreed above. This time pharaoh is kickin’ us out, claimin’ God is demandin’ it if we won’t baptize into slaves.”

In another seder down the street,

“This be the bread of our poverty. Let all come and gorge on it. When we stand waiting at the harbor front will the sea divide? Will we rejoice? Will pharaoh and all his soldiers drown? No! It is us who will be entirely swallowed up; we, whose first born will be sacrificed; we who are punished for keeping faith. Rejecting that man who claims he is god, his blood and body will be forced down our throats, a wicked poison we must imbibe. Our souls that once were pure as snow will be scarlet stained and besmirched with sin.”

And in yet another Jewish home:

“Crush that crystal kiddush cup. Take that menorah and melt it down. Sell that Chumash and that siddur. Rid every trace of our Jewish past. I curse the day that I was born. I curse the faith that I still love. I curse the God… no… that, I can’t…”

In every cathedral and church in the land Jews, alone or in threes and fours, or whole families, or in large groups, timidly or confusedly, or bitterly or resolutely or full of fear or full of vengeance or full of deceit or pure despair, but for all that, they still appear askin’ the priest to baptize them and ablute them in their lamb’s blood. And in every cathedral and church in the land priests perform their rituals, be their hearts appalled or glad, cynical or arrogant, full of doubt or full of vengeance, as Jews flee the wrath from above.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the next episode, after denial and rage…