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

