By
Maria Rosa Menocal The lessons of history, like the lessons of religion,
sometimes neglect examples of tolerance. A thousand years ago on the
Iberian Peninsula,1
an enlightened vision of Islam2
had created the most advanced culture in Europe.
Al Andalus,3
as the Muslims called their Spanish homeland, prospered in a culture
of openness and assimilation.4
A nun named Hroswitha, called it "the ornament of the world."5
Her admiration stemmed from the cultural prosperity of the caliphate6
based in Cordoba,7
where the library housed some 400,000 volumes at a time when the largest
library in Christendom8
probably held no more than 400.
What strikes us today about Al Andalus is
that it was a chapter of European history during which Jews, Christians
and Muslims lived side by side and, despite intractable differences
and enduring hostilities,9
nourished a culture of tolerance.
This only sometimes meant guarantees of religious
freedoms comparable to those we would expect in a modern "tolerantÓ state.
Rather, it was the often unconscious acceptance of contradictions on
an individual level as well as within the culture itself.10
For many who came to know Andalusian culture throughout
the Middle Ages, whether at first hand or from afar¡ªfrom reading a translation
produced there or from hearing a poem sung by one of its renowned singers¡ªthe
bright lights of that world, and their illumination of the rest of the
universe, transcended differences of religion.
It was in Al Andalus that the profoundly
Arabized Jews rediscovered and reinvented Hebrew poetry. Much of what
was created and instilled11
under Muslim rule survived in Christian territories, and Christians
embraced nearly all aspects of Arabic style¡ªfrom philosophy to architecture.
Christian palaces and churches, like Jewish
synagogues,12
were often built in the style of the Muslims, the walls often covered
with Arabic writing; one synagogue in Toledo even includes inscriptions
from the Koran.13
And it was throughout medieval Europe that
men of unshakable faith like the two great philosophers of Al Andalus,
Maimonides14
the Jew and Averroes15
the Muslim, saw no contradiction in pursuing the truth, whether philosophical
or scientific or religious, across confessional lines.16
This was an approach to life¡ªand its artistic,
intellectual and religious pursuits¡ªthat was contested by many, sometimes
violently, as it is today. Yet it remained a powerful force for hundreds
of years.
Whether it is because of our mistaken notions
about the relative backwardness of the Middle Ages or our own contemporary
expectations that culture, religion and political ideology will be roughly
consistent, we are likely to be taken aback by many of the lasting monuments
of this Andalusian culture.17
The caliphate was not destroyed, as our cliches
of the Middle Ages18
would have it, by Christian-Muslim warfare. It lasted for several hundred
years¡ªroughly the lifespan of the American republic to date¡ªand its
downfall was a series of terrible civil wars among Muslims.
These wars were a struggle between the old
ways of the caliphate¡ªwith its libraries filled with Greek texts and
its government staffed by non-Muslims¡ªand reactionary Muslims, many
of them from Morocco,19
who believed the Cordobans were not proper Muslims.
But in the end, much of Europe far beyond
the Andalusian world was shaped by the vision of complex and contradictory
identities that was first made into an art form by the Andalusians.
The enemies of this kind of cultural openness have always existed within
each of our monotheistic religions,20
and often enough their visions of those faiths have triumphed.
But at this time of year, and at this point
in history, we should remember those moments when it was tolerance that
won the day.