I

n 1165, an agonizing ques-
tion confronted Moroccan
Jewry. A fanatical Muslim
sect, the Almohads, had seized
power in Morocco and was
embarking on a policy of
forced conversion to Islam.
The Jewish community was
faced with a
choice: to affirm
Islamic faith or
die. Some chose
martyrdom.
Others chose
exile. But some
acceded to terror
and embraced
another faith.
Inwardly, though, many
of the “converted” continued
practicing Judaism in secret.
They were the anusim, con-
versos, Crypto-Jews, or as the
Spanish were later to call them,
the marranos.
To other Jews, they posed
a formidable moral problem.
How were they to be viewed?
Outwardly, they had betrayed
their community and their
religious heritage. Besides, their
example was demoralizing. It
weakened the resolve of Jews
who were determined to resist,
come what may. Yet many of

the Crypto-Jews still wished to
remain Jewish, secretly fulfill-
ing the commandments and,
when they could, attending the
synagogue and praying.
One of the converted
addressed this question to a
rabbi. He had, he said, con-
verted under coercion, but he
remained at heart a faithful
Jew. Could he obtain merit by
observing in private as many
of the Torah’s precepts as possi-
ble? Was there, in other words,
hope left for him as a Jew?

TWO RESPONSES TO
CRYPTO-JEWS
The rabbi’s reply was emphatic.
A Jew who had embraced Islam
had forfeited membership in
the Jewish community. He was
no longer part of the house
of Israel. For such a person to
fulfill the commandments was
meaningless. Worse, it was a
sin. The choice was stark and
absolute: to be or not to be a
Jew. If you choose to be a Jew,
you should be prepared to suf-
fer death rather than compro-
mise. If you choose not to be a
Jew, then you must not seek to
reenter the house you deserted.
We can respect the firmness

of the rabbi’s stance. He set
out, without equivocation, the
moral choice. There are times
when heroism is, for faith, a
categorical imperative. Nothing
less will do. His reply, though
harsh, is not without courage.
But another rabbi disagreed.
The name of the first rabbi
is lost to us, but that of the
second is not. He was Moses
Maimonides, the greatest
rabbi of the Middle Ages.
Maimonides was no stranger
to religious persecution. Born
in Cordova in 1135, he had
been forced to leave, along
with his family, some 13 years
later when the city fell to the
Almohads.
Twelve years were spent
wandering. In 1160, a tempo-
rary liberalization of Almohad
rule allowed the family to settle
in Morocco. Within five years,
he was forced to move again,
settling first in the Land of
Israel and, ultimately, in Egypt.
Maimonides was so incensed
by the rabbi’s reply to the
forced convert that he wrote a
response of his own. In it, he
frankly disassociates himself
from the earlier ruling and
castigates its author whom he

describes as a “self-styled sage
who has never experienced
what so many Jewish commu-
nities had to endure in the way
of persecution.
”
Maimonides’ reply,
the Iggeret ha-Shemad (Epistle
on Forced Conversion), is a
substantial treatise in its own
right. What is striking, given
the vehemence with which it
begins, is that its conclusions
are hardly less demanding than
those of the earlier response.
If you are faced with religious
persecution, says Maimonides,
you must leave and settle
elsewhere. “If he is compelled
to violate even one precept it
is forbidden to stay there. He
must leave everything he has
and travel day and night until
he finds a spot where he can
practice his religion.
” This is
preferable to martyrdom.
Nonetheless, one who choos-
es to go to their death rather
than renounce their faith “has
done what is good and prop-
er” for they have given their
life for the sanctity of God.
What is unacceptable is to
stay and excuse oneself on the
grounds that if one sins, one
does so only under pressure.

Elijah and the Still,
Small Voice

46 | JULY 25 • 2024
J
N

Rabbi Lord
Jonathan
Sacks

SPIRIT
A WORD OF TORAH