(PDF) Common Culture and Particular Identities: Christians, Jews and Muslims in the Ottoman Balkans, Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, Faculty of Philosophy, University of Belgrade, December 2013, pp. 1-298. | Eliezer Papo and Nenad Makuljevic - Academia.edu
Skip to main content

Common Culture and Particular Identities: Christians, Jews and Muslims in the Ottoman Balkans, Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, Faculty of Philosophy, University of Belgrade, December 2013, pp. 1-298.

This paper
A short summary of this paper
36 Full PDFs related to this paper

READ PAPER
Academia.edu

Common Culture and Particular Identities: Christians, Jews and Muslims in the Ottoman Balkans, Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, Faculty of Philosophy, University of Belgrade, December 2013, pp. 1-298.

Common Culture and Particular Identities: Christians, Jews and Muslims in the Ottoman Balkans, Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, Faculty of Philosophy, University of Belgrade, December 2013, pp. 1-298.

El Prezente Studies in Sephardic Culture vol. 7 MENORAH Collection of Papers vol. 3 Common Culture and Particular Identities: Christians, Jews and Muslims in the Ottoman Balkans Editors: Eliezer Papo • Nenad Makuljević December 2013 Ben-Gurion University of the Negev Center Moshe David Gaon for Ladino Culture Faculty of Philosophy Menorah University of Belgrade El Prezente, Editorial Committee: Tamar Alexander, Ben-Gurion University of the Negev; Yaakov Bentolila, Ben-Gurion University of the Negev Editorial Council: Rifat Bali, Albert Benveniste Center of Studies and Sefardic Culture, EPHE, Sorbonne, París, and The Ottoman-Turkish Sephardic Culture Research Center, Istanbul; David M. Bunis, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem; Winfried Busse, Freie Universitӓt. Berlin; Paloma Díaz-Mas, CSIC, Madrid; Oro Anahory-Librowicz, University of Montreal; Alisa Meyuhas Ginio, Tel Aviv University; Laura Minervini, University of Napoli ‘Federico II’; Aldina Quintana, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem; Rena Molho, Pantheon University, Atens; Shmuel Refael, Bar-Ilan University; Aron Rodrigue, University of Stanford; Minna Rozen, University of Haifa; Beatrice Schmid, University of Basel; Ora (Rodrigue) Schwarzwald, Bar-Ilan University; Edwin Seroussi, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem; Michael Studemund-Halévy, University of Hamburg Menorah, Editorial Council: Vuk Dautović, Jelena Erdeljan, Nenad Makuljević, Department of History of Art, Faculty of Philosophy, University of Belgrade; Svetlana Smolčić Makuljević, Metropolitan University, Belgrade; Eliezer Papo, Department of Hebrew Literature, Ben-Gurion University of the Negev Editorial Coordinator: Tzahi Aknin Language Editor: Fern Seckbach Graphic Design: Sefi Graphics Design Print: BGU Print Unit Cover photo: Felix Kanitz, “Turkish Market Street (Turkische Bazarstrasse)”, With the courtesy of the Archive of the Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts (7901-II-003) ISBN 978-965-91164-4-7 © 2013 All rights reserved Moshe David Gaon Center for Ladino Culture Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, Beer-Sheva Israel Table of Contents Preface 1 History & Society: 11 Dušan I. Sindik Jews in Serbian Medieval Written Sources 13 Yaron Ben-Naeh Dangerous Liaisons in Castoria 27 Ioannis Zelepos Multi-denominational Interaction in the Ottoman Balkans from a Legal Point of View: the Institution of Kiambin-marriages 43 Katja Šmid A Sephardic Rabbi’s View of his Bosnian Neighbors and Common Ottoman Culture as Reflected in his Writings 55 Vladimir Jovanović “Good” Turks and “Evil” Ones: Multiple Perspectives on the Turkish Community Reflected in Serbian Sources of the Early Nineteenth Century 77 Gila Hadar Jewish Women’s Conversion to Islam in the End of the Ottoman Era (Salonica) “Mijor dezeo verte kortada la garganta ke azer insulto a tu ley santa” 95 Linguistics: 113 David M. Bunis From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo: The Ottoman Component as a Demarcating Factor 115 Ivana Vučina Simović In Search of the Historical Linguistic Landscape of the Balkans: the Case of Judeo-Spanish in Belgrade 165 Alisa Meyuhas Ginio The Attitude Toward Lěshon haKodesh and Lěshon Lacaz in Two Works of Sephardi Musar Literature: Mecam Locez (1730) and Pele Yoceş (1824; 1870) 187 Literature: 199 Krinka Vidaković-Petrov Some Balkan Specifics of Sephardic Folksongs 201 Art: 215 Zoran Rakić Islamic Influence on Illumination of Sixteenth and Seventeenth-Century Serbian Manuscripts 217 Saša Brajović Between the Ottoman Empire and the Venetian Republic – The Bay of Kotor and the Montenegrin Coast in Early Modern and Modern Times 225 Nenad Makuljević The Trade Zone as Cross-Cultural Space: Belgrade Çarşi 233 Irena Ćirović Imagining the Forbidden: Representations of the Harem and Serbian Orientalism 247 Vladana Putnik Influence of the Ottoman Architecture on the Aesthetics of Folklorism in Serbian Architecture 265 List of Participants 277 Guidelines for preparing a Manuscript for Publication 283 In loving memory of Prof. Ivana Burđelez a colleague, a friend, a benadam Preface Preface This joint issue of El Prezente – Studies in Sephardic Culture and Menorah – Collection of Papers is yet another a fruit of the multifaceted academic cooperation between Ben-Gurion University, Moshe David Gaon Center for Ladino Culture, and the Department of History of Art at Belgrade University’s Faculty of Philosophy. It is dedicated to the lesser treated subject of the shared and common culture of the Balkan peoples, regardless of their ethnic and/or confessional background. During the centuries-long Ottoman rule, Ottoman culture, with all its heterogenic (Turkish and Byzantine, Arabic and Persian, Greek, Slavic and Albanian) elements, shaped the Balkan urban centers, adapting itself to specific geographical and human topography—and, no less importantly, adopting different cultural influences along the way. After the Expulsion of the Jews from Spain, in the year 1492, an additional component was added to the Balkan mosaic: the Sephardic Jews. In less than a century, the Iberian expellees adapted themselves to their new environment (changing their western outlook for a more acceptable oriental one); configuring, at the same time, the local Jewish context to their own ways and hispanizing the ancient Romaniote Jewish community almost totally. In these highly osmotic processes of cultural polylogue, a shared Balkan-Ottoman urban culture (vocabulary, clothing, food, music, pastime, etc.) was created, and over the centuries exported to the hinterland of the peninsula as well, with greater or lesser success. Within this common Balkan culture, particular ethnic and confessional group identities were preserved, created, and reconstructed, in constant dialogue with the common culture and with each other. Most of the articles in this issue were originally presented at the international conference Common Culture and Particular Identities: Christians, Jews and Muslims on the Ottoman Balkans, organized in 2011, by our two institutions and held in Belgrade. Some of the participants of that conference, however, chose not to develop their papers into articles, or not to do it at this stage. At the same time, two authors 1 Preface who did not participate in the conference, Krinka Vidaković-Petrov and Yaron Ben- Naeh, answered our call for papers and joined the public discussion embodied in this issue. Owing to ideological reasons, the research of the cultural past of the Balkans tends to neglect the existence of shared identities, practices, and symbols. The question of the respective contributions of Balkan Christians, Jews, and Muslims to this shared Balkan-Ottoman culture, the ways in which their particular ethnic cultures were influenced by it, as well as the question of mutual influences of any of the ethno- religious cultures over the others, are usually not at the focus of the research. In this respect, both our conference and this issue are of a pioneer nature, as they focus on the shared culture and the ways in which the particular identities were strengthened and threatened by it, or by each other, rather than focusing on any of these respective cultures per se. The issue contains fifteen articles, divided in four sections: History and Society, Linguistics, Literature, and Art History. The History & Society section opens with the article “Jews in Serbian Medieval Written Sources”, by Dušan I. Sindik, an independent researcher from Belgrade. The article enumerates the little-known medieval Serbian canonic provisions about the Jews. Some of these passages, taken from canonical codes or from archival documents, were originally written in Serbian-Slavic, while others were written in Latin and Greek. Most of them have never been presented before in English. From pre-Ottoman Serbia of the previous entry, the article “Dangerous Liaisons in Castoria”, by Yaron Ben-Naeh of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, takes us straight to Ottoman times, to seventeenth-century Castoria. It tells the (hi)story of a Jewess by the name of Lidisya, wife of a wealthy man, Mosheh haCohen, who fornicated with Ottoman soldiers, poisoned her husband’s second wife, wounded him, stole his property, and tried to arrange his murder. Her story serves as a platform to discuss some less-known aspects of traditional Jewish life, the question of the weakness of the community when challenged by a powerful person (here a woman), the question of the family, confessional and class boundaries and their transgression, as well as the question of deconstruction of gender categories and roles. 2 Preface The third article in this section, “Multi-denominational Interaction in the Ottoman Balkans from a Legal Point of View: the Institution of Kiambin-marriages”, by Ioannis Zelepos of Ludwig-Maximilians-University, Munich, focuses on the phenomenon of multi-denominational interaction in Ottoman society, from the perspective of institutionalized kiambin-marriages. Based on fragmentary, though meaningful, text evidence, issued by the Orthodox Church in the period from fifteenth to the nineteenth centuries, it argues that such marriages were in common practice during this whole time, constituting an important integrative factor in Ottoman society. Just like so many other such factors, this one also seems to be marginalized in the nationalist narratives of conventional Balkan historiography. The fourth article in this section, “A Sephardic Rabbi’s View of his Bosnian Neighbors and Common Ottoman Culture as Reflected in His Writings”, by Katja Šmid of the University of Salamanca, takes us to nineteenth-century Bosnia. The article analyzes Rabbi Eliezer ben Shem Tov Papo’s Judeo-Spanish compendia of religious law and moral teachings, concentrating primarily on the author’s linguistic policy when referring to Gentiles. Besides the expected “impersonal” Hebrew word for Gentile, Goy, Papo uses many other terms, especially when imagining real Muslim and Christian neighbors of his intended reading public. Especially revealing are his anecdotes describing some particular aspects concerning Gentiles and descriptions of some––by the rabbi praised or criticized––practices concerning Jewish-Gentile relations in communal as well as private life. The article also examines some influences of the common Ottoman culture on this Jewish rabbinical author, his mentality and weltanschauung. The fifth article in this section, “‘Good’ Turks and ‘Evil’ Ones: Multiple Perspectives on the Turkish Community Reflected in Serbian Sources of the Early Nineteenth Century”, by Vladimir Jovanović of the Historical Institute (Belgrade), examines the way in which early-nineteenth-century Serbian narrative perceives the Turks. The author argues that sources reveal a sharp distinction between two categories of Turks, evil or good, primarily on the basis of their personal acts and attitude toward the Serb community. In the black and white interpretation of Serbian authors, the champions of all evil Turks were surely the leaders of the bloodthirsty janissaries. In the few short years of their illegal reign, they had become transformed into the true whip of Christians and the incarnation of pure evil. In those same sources, common 3 Preface Turks, however, having local connections with Serbs as friends and trade associates, were depicted as “good” and innocent people. Sharing the ill fate of their Christian neighbors, particularly in urban communities, they were first victims of war and plunder, worthy of pity. Deeds that led to the utter destruction of Turkish communities in Belgrade and many other cities were also recognized and memorialized, both in narrative sources and by the epic poets of the Serbian Uprising. The closing article of this section, “‘Jewish Women’s Conversion to Islam in the End of the Ottoman Era (Salonica) “Mijor dezeo verte kortada la garganta ke azer insulto a tu ley santa”, by Gila Hadar of Haifa University, returns to the question of communal and conceptual boundary-crossings. This time, however, in late-nineteenth– and early- twentieth-century Salonika. The article examines the phenomenon of conversion to Islam and Christianity among Jewish women in this multiethnic, multilingual and multicultural city. According to many scholars, the main reasons for conversions until the end of the nineteenth century throughout the Ottoman Empire was the desire of female converts to improve their immediate personal living conditions, to obtain a divorce from a violent husband or liberation from slavery or captivity, etc. The article examines the reasons behind modern conversions, on base of their echoes in the local Sephardic press, Sephardic kansionero, and relevant secondary sources written in Hebrew, Ladino, French, Greek, and English. The Linguistics Section opens with the article, “From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo: The Ottoman Component as a Demarcating Factor”, by David Bunis of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, which examines the Ottoman elements in Judezmo. From the sixteenth century on, the intensive interaction between the Judezmo speakers of the Ottoman Empire and their Turkish-speaking neighbors led to a gradual deepening knowledge of Turkish on the part of the Jews. This knowledge was reflected in an increasingly significant Turkish component in Ottoman Judezmo, paralleling in many ways the Turkish component in other languages of the Balkans. During the transition between the Early and Late Middle Judezmo periods, the Turkish elements in the language grew in number and structural sophistication, as well as in the semantic domains to which they referred. Many of the developments in the language’s Turkish component suggest that, at least with respect to that component, the Late Middle Judezmo period may already have begun in the second half of the seventeenth century, rather than the early eighteenth. In either case, the Ottoman 4 Preface elements in Judezmo came to constitute an important, well-integrated component in the pre-modern language. Some constituents of the component survive in Judezmo to this day. The second article in this section, “In Search of the Historical Linguistic Landscape of the Balkans: The Case of Judeo-Spanish in Belgrade”, by Ivana Vučina Simović of the University of Kragujevac, argues for the need to place the study of the Belgrade Judeo-Spanish dialect in a broader Belgrade/Balkan context. The linguistic history of Belgrade, as well as of the most parts of the Balkans in general, consists of partial and sporadic accounts of the linguistic practices of different ethnic and religious groups (Tsintsars, Greeks, Turks, Armenians, Serbs, Sephardic Jews, etc.), which coexisted in these territories for centuries. The author argues that the (socio)linguistic studies of the Balkans have failed, thus far, to provide a holistic and systematic reconstruction and analysis of its linguistic history and of the long-lasting multilingualism/bilingualism from the past and its consequences. The third and last article in this section, “The Attitude Toward Lěshon haKodesh and Lěshon Lacaz in Two Works of Sephardi Musar Literature: Mecam Locez (1730) and Pele Yoceş (1824; 1870)”, by Alisa Meyuhas Ginio of Tel Aviv University, examines the linguistic policy of two prominent Sephardic rabbis: the Jerusalem born Rabbi Yacakov Khuli (c. 1689-1732) and the Sarajevo born Rabbi Eliezer ben Yiṣḥak Papo (c.1786-1827). Rabbi Khulí wrote two introductions to his work Mecam Locez: one in Hebrew and the other in Ladino. In both of them he felt compelled to explain his choice of language. Since his contemporary Sepharadim could no longer understand Hebrew; the rabbi argues, there was a need to convey to them the message of Judaism and Jewish ethics: the Holy Scripture, the Talmudic tradition and the rabbinical learning in their everyday common language: Jewish-Spanish, Judeo-Espanyol, nowadays commonly referred to as: Ladino. About ninety years after the demise of Rabbi Yacakov Khuli, Rabbi Eliezer ben Yiṣḥak Papo (c.1786-1827) published, in Istanbul, his work Pele Yoceş, a book on Jewish ethics (including short essays, alphabetically arranged, and referring to all aspects of Jewish life). In his essay regarding Lacaz—a foreign language—Rabbi Eliezer Papo explained that he would have wished for his own work to be written in Ladino, a language comprehensible to all the Sepharadim, but since lěshon sěfaradi is not useful for Ashkenazim and Italiani, he decided to write his work in lěshon ha-kodesh – Hebrew, a sacred language common to all the Jews. 5 Preface The Pele Yoceş was translated into Ladino, by Rabbi Eliezer’s son, Rabbi Yehudah Papo. The first volume of this translation of the Pele Yoceş was published in Vienna in 1870, and the second volume of the same work was published there in the year 1872. The Literature Section, contains only one article: “Some Balkan Specifics of Sephardic Folksongs”, by Krinka Vidaković-Petrov of the Institute of Literature and Art (Belgrade), which researches the contact of Sephardic oral tradition, specifically lyrical folksongs, with the Balkan cultural environment. Among the types of influences considered are the overall Oriental (Turkish) influence on all Balkan cultures (including Sephardic), the elaboration of elements (themes, motifs, and especially metaphors) transferred into Sephardic folksongs from Greek sources, and the influence of the sevdalinka on Sephardic lyrical folksongs in Bosnia at the turn of the century. The Art History Section, opens with the article, “Islamic Influence on Illumination of Sixteenth- and Seventeenth-Century Serbian Manuscripts”, by Zoran Rakić of University of Belgrade. The author argues that the influence of Islamic art on pictorial ornamentation of Serbian manuscripts of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was limited to adopting decorative details. This influence is present to the greatest extent in the manuscripts written and decorated by the famous sixteenth-century amanuensis, John of Kratovo (Jovan iz Kratova), his immediate successors, and several other scribes from the seventeenth century. Particular attention has been devoted to The Four Gospels of Karan (Karansko četvorojevanđelje), a manuscript illuminated with the largest number of elements adopted from Islamic art. The second article in this section, “Between the Ottoman Empire and the Venetian Republic – The Bay of Kotor and the Montenegrin Coast in Early Modern and Modern Times”, by Sasa Brajović of the University of Belgrade, examines the multiculturaluity of the city of Kotor and its extended area. The Bay of Kotor and the Adriatic coast of present day Montenegro were divided between the Ottoman Empire and the Venetian Republic from the beginning of fifteenth to the close of eighteenth century. The area was populated by people of various religious confessions, who lived under extremely complex circumstances. In the Bay of Kotor, an area under the rule of the Venetian Republic which lay deep in Turkish territory, Catholics were the majority, followed by the Orthodox. The Turks, who had conquered the southern part of the coast and almost 6 Preface the entire territory of Montenegro, were the majority in the city of Bar, the see of the ancient Archbishopric of Bar, as well as in the cities of Risan and Herceg-Novi, in the northern part of the Bay of Kotor. Under Ottoman government a Jewish community thrived in those cities. Boundaries between them had an ambiguous character, which in those circumstances promoted social and cultural interaction that is documented in municipal and ecclesiastical archives. The third article in this section, “The Trade Zone as Cross-Cultural Space: Belgrade Çarşi”, by Nenad Makuljević of the University of Belgrade, deals with one of the main characteristics of the Ottoman Balkan cities: the central market area—çarşi. Çarşi was the place of trade and cultural exchange and intercultural space, where contact was enabled between different religious and ethnic groups. Therefore, the market area was the main space for the crossing of cultures and creating the common culture of the Ottoman Balkans. An example of the trade zone as a cross-cultural space is the Belgrade çarşi, called Zerek. During the eighteenth-nineteenth centuries, trade and crafts in Belgrade were carried out by Vlachs/Tzintzars, Greeks, Serbs, Jews, and Ottomans. A multiethnic and multireligious trade society was a social frame for cross-cultural communication and for the creation of the unique urban culture. The example of Belgrade çarşi shows the importance of trading zones in creating common cultural identity in the Ottoman Balkans. The world of trade was an open place for members of different religious and ethnic communities, so trade of various goods also enabled a cultural transfer and crossing of different cultures. At the same time, prominent trading towns, like Belgrade, were not only of local importance but were also significant points in the cultural network of the Ottoman Balkans. The fourth article in this section, “Imagining the Forbidden: Representations of the Harem and Serbian Orientalism”, by Irena Ćirović of the Institute of History (Belgrade), deals with the harem theme in the repertoire of Serbian painters and writers. This theme begins to appear towards the end of the nineteenth century, and it is articulated in typical European orientalist formulas. It was an occurrence which must be considered not as mere reproduction of the popular Western genre, but as an essential embracement of its entire orientalist logic. The complexity stems from the fact that its occurrence was situated basically within the alleged “Orient” itself. For a long time, Serbia had been also a subject of the European ideological constructions of “otherness”, especially during the nineteenth-century decay of the Ottoman 7 Preface Empire and the emergence of Balkan nation-states. The cultural region burdened by this heritage nevertheless was an equally fertile ground for the development of the orientalist discourse. In the ideology of an emerging nation, it represented an important complement in the construction of self-identity, at the same time widening the distance from its Ottoman heritage. Exactly in these processes, the representations of the harems as orientalized “otherness” were incorporated in Serbian thought. As ideologically potent cultural descriptions, they contributed a great deal to Serbia’s own cultural identity and to the ideology of an emerging nation. The fifth and last article of this section, “Influence of the Ottoman Architecture on the Aesthetics of Folklorism in Serbian Architecture”, by Vladana Putnik of the University of Belgrade, analyzes the way in which the elements of Ottoman architecture were applied and reinterpreted in the work of Branislav Kojić, Aleksandar Deroko, and Momir Korunović, during the interwar period. Folklorism represented a unique step in search of an authentic architectural expression in the Serbian interwar architecture. It presumed a connection between architectural heritage and contemporary tendencies, as well as a search for common architectural language. Nineteenth-century Balkan profane architecture has been singled out as a main model for achieving that connection. There were, however, some earlier attempts to revive folk art and use its motifs in a contemporary way, especially in the work of Branko Tanazević and Dragutin Inkiostri Medenjak. Branislav Kojić did make real progress in that field of research. There were tendencies in folklorism to apply architectural elements from Ottoman architecture to a contemporary one in a romantic but also a rational manner. Since Balkan profane architecture was nationally and religiously undefined, it has been very suitable for political purposes in showing territorial unity of the multiconfessional as well as multiethnic Kingdom of Yugoslavia. Therefore, it became for a brief moment a part of political propaganda during the reign of King Aleksandar I Karađorđević. During the course of preparation of this joint issue, we were informed of the passing of Prof. Ivana Burđelez, the mythological director of the Dubrovnik-based Centre for Mediterranean Studies of the University of Zagreb, with whom we have collaborated for almost a decade, organizing international conferences, editing their proceedings, and fighting to introduce Sephardic Studies into the curriculum of Balkan and Israeli universities. We all knew Ivana was combating a serious disease, but eternally 8 Preface enchanted by her inexhaustible energy and strength, we were somehow convinced that she would finally win. Just like she always did. Unfortunately, this time our prayers were left unanswered. With Prof. Burđelez’s death, Sephardic Studies have lost a pioneering researcher, a relentless fighter, and a visionary; we all have lost a colleague and a friend; and the world has lost a benadam, an unbelievable personality. Lamenting her early departure, we decided to honor her memory by dedicating this issue to her. Tehi nafša ṣerura biṣror haḥayyim! We wish to express our appreciation, first and foremost, to the peer reviewers, who devoted their time to an in-depth meticulous reading of the articles received by the editorial board. Without their commitment, collegiality, and volunteerism we could not maintain the high academic standards of our two journals. Special thanks are owed to the three members of the Editorial Council of Menorah, to Prof. Jelena Erdeljan, Svetlana Smolčić Makuljević and Vuk Dautović, without whose enthusiasm, zeal, and dedication this joint issue would never see the light of the world. We would also like to extend our gratitude to our “technical team”: to our language editor, Fern Seckbach, without whose skills this issue would not be as comprehensive as it is, as well as to our designer, Sefi Sinay, who provided a pleasing appearance to this joint issue. Last but not least, we would like to thank to Tzahi Aknin, the new Administrative Coordinator of Gaon Center, who coordinated the work of the editorial board, learning along the way the real meaning of the word coordination: pulling all the strings all the time. Eliezer Papo Nenad Makuljević Moshe David Gaon Center Department of History of Art for Ladino Culture Faculty of Philosophy Ben-Gurion University of the Negev University of Belgrade 9 Preface 10 Dušan I. Sindik History and Society 11 Jews in Serbian Medieval Written Sources 12 Dušan I. Sindik Jews in Serbian Medieval Written Sources Dušan I. Sindik Belgrade In one of his early works, Sima M. Ćirković,1 a member of the Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts, was the first to devote attention to the mention of Jews in the sources of the medieval history of Serbs.2 I now take this opportunity to present information in Serbian medieval written sources of a legal-historical nature that speak of the Jews in any way. I am doing this without a lengthy introduction to the topic, since that would require much more space and time. In this paper, there will be no mention of liturgical or literary works, because they would have to be put in theological and literary-historic context, which is beyond the scope of the present article. It has been long observed that there Jews are seldom mentioned in written sources about the history of the medieval Serbian state. Particularly noticed by Jews with a legal and historical educational background was that such mention does not occur in Dušan’s Code.3 Possibly that which was written in the Nomocanon of St.Sava and Syntagma of Matthew Blastares, which originated earlier than Dušan’s Code, was considered sufficient in the Serbian medieval state. The sources in which Jews are mentioned in medieval Serbia can be classified into two groups: (1) archival materials (decisions of town authorities, notary records, and charters); (2) church legal and legislative compendiums. The first group contains a 1 I dedicate this paper to Sima M. Ćirković with deep, cordial respect and reverence. 2 Sima Ćirković, “Jevrejski danak u vizantiskim oblastima” (Jewish tribute in Byzantine regions), Zbornik radova Vizantološkog Instituta 4 (1956), pp. 141-147. 3 Lavoslav Šik, “O potrebi povjesnice Jevreja u Jugoslaviji”, Jevrejski Almanah I (On the need for history of Jews in Yugoslavia, Jewish Almanac I), Vršac 1925, mentions Jews in Dušan’s Code, in which he probably had in mind Dušan’s overall legislation where the Syntagma of Matthew Blastares also belongs and which also frequently mentions the Jews. 13 Jews in Serbian Medieval Written Sources small amount of information, sometimes scanty and probably not sufficiently reliable, but also data that are considered commonplace. The second group includes more data, which, although most often is of a general character, are also important because these are valid medieval legal norms. A division can be made on the basis of language as well, i.e., sources written in Latin, Italian, Greek, or Serbian-Slavic languages. Notary documents from the coastal towns were written in Latin and Italian. This time we have Kotor in mind as the only coastal town that was for almost two centuries under the supreme power of the Serbian medieval state and whose archives have been partly preserved. Some documents of the Serbian rulers written in Greek also mention Jews. Other documents were composed in the Serbian-Slavic language, i.e., charters of the Serbian rulers, canon and other legal codes. When we speak of the sources written in the Serbian-Slavic language, we must add a proviso that ever since the Nomocanon the following terms were used equally for Jews: Hebe, Hebrews, Israelites, Jews, Judaists, Jewry, which are accompanied by corresponding possessive adjectives and, rarely, verbs, such as to Judaize. Here I have cited solely excerpts from the sources mentioned, so as to show where they are located and to gather them together in the greatest possible number, all with the aim of gaining a general overview of the past of the Jews in our lands. The oldest known information that indirectly attests to the Jews inhabiting the territory of medieval Serbia is the decision by the Kotor town council from January 1186, which mentions a slave that “observes Sabbath” (seruus qui habet sabbatum).4 4 The document has long been known and published several times. The place mentioned, however, caused confusion, because the publications until now have been prepared according to the Zbornik Arhiva Hrvatske Akademije Znanosti i Umjetnosti (Collected Papers of the Archives of Croatian Academy of Sciences and Arts) II b 21, where the scribe misread and wrote jubbatum instead of sabbatum. The corrected text was first published in Dušan Sindik (ed.) in cooperation with Gordana Tomović, Pisci srednjovjekovnog latiniteta (Authors of Medieval Latinity), series Književnost Crne Gore od XII do XIX vijeka (Literature of Montenegro from the Twelfth to the Nineteenth Century), vol. 1, Cetinje 1996. See also Dušan Sindik, “Stefan Nemanja i Kotor”, in Jovanka Kalić- Mijušković (ed.), Stefan Nemanja – sveti Simeon Mirotočivi, istorija i predanje (Saint Simeon the Myrrh—streaming, history and heritage), Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts, Scientific Gatherings, vol. 94, Department of Historic Sciences, vol. 26, pp. 116-117 nn. 6 and 7. 14 Dušan I. Sindik Some twenty years later (1202-1215?), a female named Judea is mentioned in Kotor.5 The next mention was made in the 1230 charter of King Stefan Radoslav: come scrive nel suo Evangelio san Zuane el documento de Jesu Christo alli Zudei vegnando da lui li ammaestrava la salute nostra dizando: “Se vui observarete li miei precepti, per certo sarete li miei discipuli”.6 At the beginning of the Serbian translation of the chrysobull of Emperor Andronicus II from 1299, Israelites are mentioned as not being the only ones on whom God has not cast his mercy:  Паки же чюд[е]семь и славѣ Б(ог)ь помаза (с)ихь б(о)ж(ь)ствомь, не тькмѡ Из(раи)льти ѥдине, ѥже с|ть прьвиї ждрѣби ѥго, нь ѡбаче и ѥзикомь показати свѡе чл(о)в(ѣ)колюбиѥ и сп(а)сениѥ.7 In St. Stefan’s chrysobull (1313-1316): Си же го ѡбеани ап(о)с(то)ломь проповедаюимь, небѣр̔̔ ни Жидове камениѥмь побивахоу Стефана.8 The variant of the name Judea, Judah, wife of Bogdan Ogić, is recorded in Kotor in 1334.9 After the data from Kotor, more specific information on Jews who lived in Serbian territory can be found in the charters of King Stefan Dušan in the Treskavac Monastery (1337)10 and in the Monastery of John the Forerunner at Mt. Menikej11 5 Dušan Sindik, “Jevreji u srednjovekovnom Kotoru” (Jews in Medieval Kotor), Zbornik Jevrejskog muzeja u Beogradu (Jewish Studies of the Jewish Museum in Belgrade), 7 (1997), pp. 102-104. 6 Tadija Smičiklas (ed.), Diplomatički zbornik Kraljevine Hrvatske, Dalmacije i Slavonije (Codex diplomaticus regni Croatiae, Dalmatiae et Slavoniae) III, 332-334, No 292; Vladimir Mošin, Sima Ćirković, Dušan Sindik (eds.), Zbornik srednjovekovnih ćirilićkih povelja i pisama Srbije, Bosne, Dubrovnika (Collected papers of Medieval Cyrillic Charters and Letters of Serbia, Bosnia, Dubrovnik), vol. 1, 1186-1321, Beograd 2011, No 24, 1, 20. 7 Louis Petite and Basile Korablev, “Actes de Chilandar, Actes slaves”, Vizantijskij vremennik, 19 (1915), p. 391, No 7; Vladimir Mošin and Krasimira Ilievska (eds.), Spomenici za srednovekovnata i ponovata istorija na Makedonija (Monuments relatifs à l’histoire médiévale et moderne de la Macédoine), vol. 1, Skopje 1975, pp. 278-279 8 Zbornik srednjovekovnih ćiriličkih povelja, vol. 1, No. 125, f. 36 (Note 6). 9 Predrag Palavestra, Jevrejski pisci u srpskoj književnosti, (Jewish authors in Serbian literature) Beograd 1982, 21; Antun Mayer, Kotorski spomenici, druga knjiga kotorskih notara (Monumena catarensia, vol. 2, Liber notariorum catarensium II), year 1329, 1332- 1337, 200, No 809: cum domo Iude, uxoris Bogdani Ogich. 10 A few toponyms that are mentioned in the charters of Treskavac Monastery could attest to the assumption that in the medieval time Jews lived on the territory of Prilep: ...доль еврѣискы ...до рѣчиа еврѣискаго... (Jewish valley ... to the Jewish riverbed (SIC!) Stojan Novaković, Zakonski spomenici srpskih država srednjega veka (Serbian Medieval Legal Sources), Beograd 1912, 668. 15 Jews in Serbian Medieval Written Sources as well as in the chrysobull of Emperor Stefan Dušan of November 1348 in the Monastery of Holy Mother in Licusada in Thessaly,12 indikt II: Ioudaion ton Anamerhn onomazomenon (a Jew named Anamer), and some time later in the chrysobull of Emperor Stefan Uros (1361) in the Great Lavra of St. Athanasisus the Athonite on Mt. Athos.13 Occasionally, some Jewish individuals appear as officials of the feudal lords or as businessmen. Thus, Dubrovnik documents recorded the name of Franko Josifovic, a Jew in the service of Lady Rugina.14 The name of a tenant of the Glam silver customs in Serbia and Priština or Novo Brdo is unknown, but it has been written that he was a Jew.15 Abraham from Syria (Abraam Siriano) traded with the citizens of 11 October 1345, indikt XIV, A. Solovjev – V. Mošin, Grčke povelje srpskih vladara (Diplomata graeca regum et imperatorum Serviae), SKA, Zbornik za IJK srpskog naroda, Beograd 1936, pp. 12-13, l. 90: Οἱ Ἰουδαῖοι οἱ ἐντὸς τῶν Ζιχνῶν. 12 Ibid., Hrisovulja cara Stefana Dušana manastiru Bogorodice u Likusadi, u Tesaliji (Chrysobull of Emperor Stefan Dušan in the Monastery of Holy Mother in Licusada in Thessaly, November 1348, indikt II, 158-159, l. 79. 13 The Greek chrysobull of Emperor Uroš to the Monastery Great Lavra at Mount Athos attests to the Jews from the vicinity of the place/toponym Konstantinou who paid the tax “telos” to the Monastery of Saint Athanasius the Athonite: ... πλησίον τοῦ Ἁγίου Κωνσταντίνου τόπος ἐν ὧ καὶ κάθηνται Ἑβραῖοι διδόντες κατ᾽ έτος τὸ τεταγμένον αὐτοῖς τέλος. Cf. Paul Lemerle et al. (eds.), Actes de Lavra III (de 1329 a 1500), Paris 1979, No 140, p. 85, l. 17-18. On the question of the existence and function of the “Jews tax” on the Balkans, see Ćirković (Note 2), pp. 141-147. I am thankful to Mirjana Živojinović, member of the Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts, who drew my attention to the Greek document. It is also preserved in the Old Church Slavonic translation of this chrysobull: а изь Светаго Констандина мѣсто на нѥмь же сѣдеть Евреи, даюе на всако лѣто оузаконни тѣм телось. Cf. St. Novaković, Zakonski spomenici srpskih država srednjega veka, 494. 14 ...по своѥм(ь) члов(ѣ)к по Франк Иѡсифобикю вре(и)н. Lj. Stojanović, Stare srpske povelje i pisma (Old serbian charts and letters) I-1, 405, No 410. Ćirković, “Jevrejski danak”, p. 141. 15 Desanka Kovačević – Kojić, “Priština u srednjem vijeku”, (Priština in Middle Ages) Istorijski časopis XXII (1975) p. 68 n. 103. Reprinted in Desanka Kovačević Kojić, Gradski život u Srbiji i Bosni (City life in Serbia and Bosnia), (XIV-XV vijek), Studia Historica collecta II, Beograd 2007, p. 85 n. 103: la gabella delli argenti di glama de Schiavonia di certi Zenovexi et uno Zudio i quali l, anno comprata dallo Turcho. Lett. di Lev. XIII, f. 84r-84v. V.: Momčilo Spremić, op. cit. 749. Cf.: Desanka Kovačević – Kojić, “Dubrovačka naseobina u Smederevu u doba Despotovine”, Oslobodjenje gradova u Srbiji od Turaka 1862-1867 (Dubrovnik settlement in Smederevo at times of Despotate, Liberation of the towns in Serbia from the Turks) Beograd 1970, p. 119. Ibid., p. 106, Kovacević-Kojić noting merchants with nicknames Zudio and Juda. 16 Dušan I. Sindik Dubrovnik in Smederevo and borrowed money from them.16 During the Turkish siege of Belgrade in 1456, Holy Father fra Ivan Kapistran (Johannes Capistrano) called the Jews to also join in the defense of the town.17 Jews are mostly mentioned in the Nomocanon and the Syntagma. These compendiums are most probably a compilation or translation of corresponding Byzantine church-legal collected papers, which is why their data can be taken as simply historic assumptions, though this is not necessarily the case. The Nomocanon was published integrally in a phototypeset at the beginning of the twentieth century and then, for the time being, partially, with translation into modern Serbian, so that its ecclesiastic-legal standards have become available as a whole to both the academic as well as the general public.18 The Syntagma, however, has been known for a whole century, which is why facts from it have been known to those who read them scrupulously and studied them. Data on Jews in the Nomocanon and the Syntagma can be classified into two groups: (a) those that according to the Christian teachings speak about taking over or neglecting certain values from the Old Testament; (b) those speaking about relations between the members of the two religions, which implied corresponding behavior by the Christians. The largest part of the provisions from Nomocanon and Syntagma speak about the prohibition of maintaining religious relations between Christians and Jews. Accordingly, irrespective of whether individual social phenomena have explicit religious or lay characteristics, the corresponding provisions basically result from affiliation with different religions. It should be emphasized that sanctions specified for individual religious violations are given only for members of the Christian denomination. They were expressly of religious character, starting with the prohibition 16 Jovanka Kalić-Mijusković, Beograd u srednjem veku (Medieval Belgrade), Belgrade 1967, 140. 17 Dr Miodrag Petrović, Zakonopravilo ili Nomokanon svetoga Save (St. Sava’s Nomocanon). Ilovički prepis 1262. godine, (1262 Transcript of Ilovica). Gornji Milanovac 1991 (phototype issue; further on: Petrović, Zakonopravilo). 18 Stojan Novaković, Matije Vlastara Sintagmat: Azbučni zbornik vizantijskih crkvenih i drzavnih zakona i pravila – slovenski prevod vremena Dušanova (Syntagma of Matthew Blastares, Alphabetical Compendium of church and state laws and rules – Slav translation of the Dušan times), SKA, Zbornik za istoriju jezik i književnost srpskog naroda, Prvo odeljenje, vol. 4, Belgrade 1907. 17 Jews in Serbian Medieval Written Sources of Communion up to excommunication from the Church if the offender failed to give up bad customs. One example of sanctions against Jews was seen, namely, in a case when a Jew would circumcise a Christian or diverted him from Christianity in any way, but without any mention of the specific type of sanction that applied. But, if a Jew whoowns a slave would circumcise him, the owner would be punished by capital punishment. The strongest impression is made by the provision which explains the name of Jesus. It is evidently meant for the Serbian reader, which is why we can trust that it was written under the direct influence of St. Sava, and it is quite possible that he actually worded it and first wrote it down: “Jesus is a Judean name, which is in Hellenic language Sotir, and in our language Sotir is Salvation. And he is called Salvation because he saves and keeps sane all those believing in Him”. With a careful reading of Serbian-Slavic texts appearing below (a small part of which come from the Baranja Compendium, published here for the first time), it is easy to observe phenomena which in a way caused the establishment of corresponding church- legal norms contained in the Nomocanon, Syntagma and Baranja Compendium.19 The following examples demonstrate this: – Jews are mentioned on the same level with heathens (meaning Hellenes, Greeks), heretics, Manichaeans (Syntagma: and Agarens), even though they are clearly identified as different from these other non-Christian groups. – Jews have been imputed to have a custom of crucifying criminals. – In ancient times it seems that frequently priests, as well as bishops and laymen, would come to synagogues during holidays (most frequently during Passover), where they would celebrate together, pray, receive blessings, take prosphora, which is why in this regard provisions have been adopted against those who violate Christian rules: bishops, priests and laymen, who were excommunicated or separated from the church. – Everyone who renounced the teachings of Christ in fear of the Jews, ungodly persons, or heretics, as well as those who behaved in accordance with Hellenic 19 Boško Petrović, PhD, was the first to introduce the Baranja Compendium to academe. From the Old Serbian Literature (Iz stare srpske književnosti), Sremski Karlovci 1913, pp. 41-74. Church-legal provisions important for daily life of the Serbian Orthodox Church and Serbian Medieval state are in the second part of the Baranja Compendium. 18 Dušan I. Sindik fables and Jewish customs, were excommunicated. This was seen as a step into the world of darkness, so that the joint marking of holidays and taking of matsot (Judaic dough raw, not dead) even if the matsot bread was made in one’s own home, was prohibited. – Under an apostolic rule everything should be done in the glory of Lord, and not to the blasphemy of Jews and Hellenes. – In Armenia, following the customs of the biblical Israelite priesthood, only those who were of clerical origin were admitted to clergy, which Christianity forbids and allows every man worthy of it to become a priest; – In principle, the laws of Moses did not need to be respected, but not only had much of it been taken over from the Old Testament, but it was also recommended apply it, such as, for example, mourning the dead according to rules written in Psalms and holding a memorial service for the dead each year, just like the Jews keep the memory of Moses, or the rule that a deaf or blind man could not be a bishop, and the rule that one could not speak against a prince of one’s people. – False accusations against the Jews, jesters and other heretics were not accepted. The Judaic bread (maces) was rejected, and anyone asking help of their physicians or washing with them in a bath was rejected by the church. – Some Jews cooked meat in sanctuaries, which was unacceptable; – Each Christian should worship on Sundays, not Saturdays. If a Christian would observe Saturday, he would be considered Judaizing. – Prayers should be also said at the sixth hour since that is when wicked Jews crucified the Lord; – Solomon’s psalms should not be read, but it is allowed to read specifically mentioned parts of the Old Testament (Torah): Genesis, Exodus, Book of Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Jesus Navin, Judges, Ruth, Esther, etc. The Book of Prophets has also been mentioned: Isaiah, Jeremy, Ezekiel, Daniel, etc. From the New Testament, among the Apostle Paul’s letters his Epistle to Jews is also mentioned. The following books have not been canonized, but were read: Wisdom of Solomon, Wisdom of Sirach, Esther, Judith, Tobias, called Book of Apostles and the Shepherd. It is not clear why is the Book of Esther is mentioned in both groups. In some parts this list differs from the one in the Baranja Compendium; – Jews should not be admitted to communion (Eucharist) or prayer, if they do not prove themselves honest followers of the Orthodox Christianity. A Jew could not be admitted to Christianity if he was doing it just to avoid paying a debt, that is, namely, he first had to pay his debt and then atone for his sins; 19 Jews in Serbian Medieval Written Sources – One should not fight another man’s anger with wrath and roughness, which is why it emphasizes the behavior of David, a man courageous in war exploits and meek and steady in answering to his enemy’s evil, as was Moses who rose in anger against the sinner against God, but endured blows against himself with meek spirit. – Returnees to the faith in Christ have the time of their life to repent. The Baranja Compendium for returnees to Christianity envisages a special procedure of repentance and anointment before once again having access to the holy secrets. Most of the Syntagma repeats or retells provisions contained in the Nomocanon, with some having been expanded with explanations contained in the works of the holy fathers. A source is specified for each interpretation, so that interpretations of several holy fathers are sometimes given for the same norm, which is not always the case in Nomocanon. New here is prohibiting Jews from holding slaves and prohibiting marriages between Christians and Jews as well as a special recommendation not to celebrate the Passover before the vernal equinox. It s clear from all the above that the Jews were in a way isolated, the same as all others who did not live by the canons of the Christian church, but it is not evident that they were persecuted because of their religion. Excerpts from the St. Sava’s Nomocanon according to the 1991 printed issue.20 P. 33, fol. 14a. Jesus is a Judean name, which is in Hellenic language Sotir, and in our language is called Salvation. And he is called Salvation because he saves and keeps sane all those believing in Him. P. 39, f. 15b. [B]ut was also crucified by us the Jews under Pontius Pilate…The Jews had a custom of crucifying criminals…And the Church says that the Jews have destroyed his body at his own will, because had the Lord not willed so the Jews would not have crucified him. Since the Jews destroyed the Church, i.e., the body of our Lord, he was resurrected on the third day. That is why we believe in him. P. 52-53, f. 23b. Chapter 3. About preserving Church customs and the law also by unwritten tradition, and about no need to keep the commandments of the Law of Moses. 20 About publication of St. Sava’s Nomocanon, cf. note 17. 20 Dušan I. Sindik P. 65, f. 26a Chapter 15. About bishops and priests that associate and pray with heretics or Jews and about those who command to be served and their sacrifice to be received. P. 71, f. 28b Chapter 3. About those who bear gifts to Jewish meeting places or churches of other nations. P. 95, f. 37b. Branch 12, below in Chapter 18 on Heretics and on Jews and Hellenes (= Greeks polytheists) P. 97, f. 38a. About bishops and clergymen who receive blessing or prosphora from heretics or from Jews and pray in churches and monasteries of heretics and (other) nations, namely heathen or those who mark Saturday or observe with Jews, or bring all things to their meeting places. P. 103, f. 40a Chapter 15. About true believers who receive blessings from heretics or prosphora or worship with Jews or fast with them, and about how unfitting it is to observe Saturday as a holiday…. P. 114, f. 44b (48). About speaking of the God-given law to Israelites through Moses. P. 147, f. 53a, 54a. Interpretation. If a clergyman denounces the name of Christ out of human, Jewish, Hellenic or heretic fear, he should be rejected by the Church. P. 153-154, f. 56a. Canon 78. Let no one who is deaf nor anyone who is blind be made a bishop, not on the ground that he is deficient morally, but rather to prevent disorders in the church affairs. Interpretation. Commandment given to the Israelites through Moses requires that the body be healthy and that among them, priests shall have no defects, so that no one who has a bodily impairment can be admitted to clergy. But, if upon receiving the clerical order a priest happens to damage a limb or some part of the body, he shall withdraw from the clergy. And, among us, for the one who wants to be ordained as bishop, a bodily defect shall not affect this prohibition; it has been commanded that he should have a pure soul. P. 156, f. 57a. Interpretation. The Moses Law said: Thou shalt not speak ill of thy people’s ruler. P. 161, f. 59a. Canon 12. Expose him who is giving heed to Hellenic fables and Jewish customs and does not denounce them. 21 Jews in Serbian Medieval Written Sources P. 164, f. 60a [T]he Christ was crucified at the sixth hour and at the ninth the earth did quake and the rocks rent before the crucified Lord for the insolence of the accursed Jews ... P. 165, f. 60a, 60b. Canon 14. On the third day, for the lifted up hold a three-day memorial for the deceased in your psalms and prayers, on the ninth day in memory of those who are still here and for the dead on the 40th day under the old law, such as the Jewish people mourned Moses, and hold them a memorial each year... P. 175-176, f. 64a. About this, see the 12th Canon of the Fourth Council of Chalcedon, which is why the Holy City of Aelia was called Shalem in ancient times, thereafter Jevus to be later called Jerusalem, And when the Romans came, they plundered and demolished it. After that the Roman Emperor Adrian, called Aelius, built a city not calling it Jerusalem, but Aelia after his own name. P. 198, f. 72a. Interpretation. Since [the] impure was excommunicated in the Law of Moses, accordingly the rule is that he who defiles himself with a foolish one shall be considered unclean ... P. 227, f. 82a. Interpretation. This has been said in the seventh canon of holy apostles: a clergyman who worships Passover with the Jews should be excommunicated. This has been said in the seventh canon of the holy apostles: if any clergyman partakes with Jews in the celebration of the Passover he shall be excommunicated. The same Canon commands that if laity transgresses the ordained Passover custom and together with Jews or at some other time worship the Passover, they shall not receive communion and be rejected by the church. P. 256, f. 92a. Canon 29. Each Christian should observe Sunday, not Saturday. Interpretation. Should a Christian observe Saturday and not work, he is feasting with Jews and is Judaizing. That is why work should be done on the day of Saturday, but not working on Sunday, which should be observed. P. 258-258, f. 92b. [O]thers who for other reasons and especially with Judaists worship and have some special debates and incomprehensible words that speak untrue of God’s writing (= the Scriptures). P. 259-260, l. 93b. Canon 37. With Jews and heretics no one should feast and accept what is called festive among them. 22 Dušan I. Sindik Interpretation. There is no communication with the world of darkness. That is why Christians should not feast with heretics and Jews nor worship their feast day making matsot (bread) or similar. P. 268, l. 94b. Canon 59. Other’s psalms should not be read in church. Other’s psalms are Solomon’s and somebody else’s. Fathers did not command that they be spoken in the church nor that their books and canons should be observed, only the said canons of the Old and New Testaments. And which are fit for reading the Old and New Testament. Those are Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Jesus Navin, Judges, Ruth, Esther, the Four Kingdoms, Paralipomena—two books of Ezra, two books of psalms, 150 stories of Solomon, Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs, Job, Twelve prophets, Isaiah, Jeremy, Baruch’s crying and epistle, Ezekiel and Daniel. And the New Testament books are: ...epistle to Jews... P. 342, f. 115a-b.Canon 24. Nothing but the named books are recognized in the church, according to rules, in the name of divine writings. And named in the canons these are the books of the Old Testament: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Jesus Navin, Judges, Ruth, the Four Kingdoms, two books of Paralipomena, Job, Psalter, five books of Solomon, Books of twelve prophets: Isaiah, Jeremy, Ezekiel, Daniel, Tobias, Judith, Esther, two books of Esdras. From the New Testament ... P. 405-406, f. 136a, 136b. Canon 129. Accusations against slaves and freedmen unacceptable by public judgment shall not be admitted from a jester either, nor Hellen, nor heretic or a Jew. Interpretation. According to the sixth canon of the Second Ecumenical Council in Constantinople, no accusation or statements against bishops and clergymen shall be admitted without examination. P. 425, f. 142b. Canon 11. Jewish bread is rejected and he who invites their shaman and bathes with them shall be denounced. Interpretation. There is no communication between the Christians and Jews, at all. So anyone found to eat their bread or calling their shaman for treatment or bathing with them in a spa or otherwise gets close with them, should be excommunicated if he is a clergyman or shall have to decide if a layman. P. 425-426, f. 143a. Interpretation. The fifth canon of the Apostles ... Said the divine apostle: Do all in the name of the Lord. Do not be blasphemous to Judaists or Hellenes nor church of God, just as I try to please all persons ... 23 Jews in Serbian Medieval Written Sources P. 439, f. 147b. Following the Judean customs, only those from the clerical order are admitted to clergy in Armenia. P. 472, f. 159. Canon 99. Some like Jews roast meat in sanctuaries. If someone allows that or receives anything from them, he is not a clergyman. P. 481, f. 163a. Canon 8. The Jews, i.e., Judeans, should not be admitted to communion or prayer or to church, if they do not prove themselves to be truly and wholeheartedly addressing our true faith. P. 558-559, f. 190a. ... (whoever) fights another man’s sin with wrath and is rigid towards people shall find David, a man courageous in war exploits and meek and steady in answering to his enemy’s evil. Such is Moses who rose in great anger against the sinner against God, but endured blows against himself with meek spirit. P. 575-576, f. 196a-b. Athanasius the Great from the ninth epistle about canonized books. The Old Testament has 22 books as many as there are letters in the Judean grammar: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Jesus Navin, Judges, Ruth, the Four Kingdoms—two books, Paralipomena— two in one book, Esdras—two in one book, Psalms, Stories, Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs, Job, Twelve prophets—one book, and then Isaiah and Jeremy with Baruch, Crying and Prophet’s letter, Ezekiel, Daniel. And these books were not canonized in the rules, but are read: the Wisdom of Solomon, the Wisdom of Sirach, Esther, Judith, Tobias called Teaching (Didache) of the Apostle’s and Shepherd. P. 577. f. 197a. 32. From the sermon of Gregory, the theologian, on these same books. The first—Genesis, and then Exodus and Leviticus, in addition Numbers, and then Deuteronomy, followed by Jesus Navin, Judges; Ruth eighth and ninth and tenth book—part of the Kingdoms and Paralipomena. And in the end you have Esdras. In verse there are five, out of which the first is Job, then David, three Solomon’s, Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs, Stories and Crying, also of prophetic spirit. In other words, there are twelve in one document: Osiah, Amos and the third Micah, and with them Joel, then Jonah and Obadiah, then Nahum, Habakkuk and Zephaniah, Haggai and then Zechariah and Malachias. So, one and the other, Isaiah’s and then in childhood called Jeremiah, thereafter Ezekiel and Daniel, as godsend. Thus I enclosed twenty-two books of the Old Testament. P. 578-579, f. 197a-b. St. Amphilochius Seleuk on these same books. The books of the Old Testament: Genesis, after that Exodus, and you have the book Leviticus in 24 Dušan I. Sindik the middle. After them come the Numbers, and then Deuteronomy, and with them enclosed Jesus Navin and the Judges, followed by Ruth and the Four Kingdoms. And Paralipomena in two books and with them Esdras—the first and second book. After that I cite five books in verse: Job crowned with exploits, and the books of Psalms which are the careful healing of the soul, speak certainly the stories of the Wise Solomon, Ecclesiastes and the Song of Songs. Add to these the Twelve prophets: Osiah and the other one, then Amos, Micah, Joel, Obadiah and Tobias, Jonah—picture of three-day suffering and after them Nahum, then Habakkuk, the ninth Zephaniah and Haggai, and then again Zechariah, two-named angel Malachias. With them, also know the four prophets: the bold and great Isaiah and pleasant Jeremiah, secretive Ezekiel and the last Daniel. And some add Esther. P. 580, f. 196a-197b. Epistle of the Apostle Paul to Jews—one. P. 581, f. 198a. Canon 1. He who by denouncing the faith of Christ becomes a Jew or idolater or Manichaean, or grows to like some other such form of godlessness, and then admonishing and re-examining himself converts, shall his whole life have the time to repent. P. 604, f. 206. From the first epistle of the Bulgarian Archbishop Leont on Jewish bread. Those who celebrate matsot on Saturday and say they are Christians, neither Jews nor pure Christians they are; they are similar to a lynx skin ... P. 706, l. 243a. From the fourth branch of the novels, Chapter 7. If wanting to avoid guilt or some debt, a Jew wants to convert to Christianity, he should not be admitted until he is proven innocent and pays his debt. 25 Jews in Serbian Medieval Written Sources 26 Yaron Ben-Naeh Dangerous Liaisons in Castoria Yaron Ben-Naeh The Hebrew University of Jerusalem The subject of this article is an episode in the city of Castoria (present-day Kostur) whose main protagonist was an energetic, violent woman who fostered relationships with non-Jews, including Janissaries, devised a plan to dispossess her husband of all his possessions, and even tried to murder him. In addition to being an interesting episode of the 1680s, the story hints at several significant aspects of Jewish life in the Ottoman Balkans as well as in other parts of the empire. The Jewish community in Castoria was among the most important in the southern Balkans, alongside Skopje, Monastir (Bitolj), Belgrade, Sarajevo, and others. Situated on the shore of a lake and on an important commercial crossroads not far from some of the renowned Balkan fairs, it was an important commercial center during the Ottoman period. Among the merchandise that passed through its markets were lumber, furs, wool, wax, and wheat. A Jewish community existed there continuously from the sixteenth to the twentieth centuries. Like many other communities, it still awaits an adequate study, and the little information we have is sorely lacking. Noteworthy is the monograph written by Michael Molho.1 Castoria’s location on a Balkan commercial crossroads attracted many people, migrants as well as emissaries—some who came on their own behalf and others to collect funds for communities in the Holy Land. Therefore, it comes as no surprise that we find in our story an emissary from the Holy 1 For the Jewish community of Castoria, see, for the present, Michael Molho, Histoire des Israélites de Castoria, Salonica 1938; Maren M. Frejdenberg, Jewish Life in the Balkans (15th to 17th Centuries), Tel Aviv, 1999, pp. 89-90. For statistics of the Castoria community and others, based on Ottoman tax censuses, during the sixteenth century, see Mark A Epstein, The Ottoman Jewish Communities and Their Role in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries, Freiburg 1980. 27 Dangerous Liaisons in Castoria Land who is visiting the city and becomes involved in finding a compromise between the woman and her husband. During the last quarter of the seventeenth century, many Sabbatean emissaries passed through Castoria on their way to spread news and information among groups of believers in Balkan cities, from where they continued to communities of Sabbateans in Italy. Nathan of Gaza, who prophesied that Shabbetai Zevi was the next messiah but was forced to leave Salonica, resided in Castoria for seven years, from 1669 to 1676. He then returned to Salonica, from where he moved on to Sofia. Toward the end of his life he came to Skopje, where he passed away and was buried in 1680. During his stay in Castoria, he set out on several missions at the command of his messiah, the convert to Islam Shabbetai Zevi, such as the one to Yumirgina in 1672.2 Benayahu’s study, based on a careful reading of the sources, points to constant travel between Balkan communities as well as family ties in this region, such as connections with Arnavut Belgradi—Berat in present-day Albania. Castoria was also administratively connected to Salonica, which lies to its east. An edict of A.H. 1087 (1676) decreed the collection of the cizye tax from all Jews in the Salonica sanjak, which also included Castoria and many other cities, such as Veria, Istip, Yenişehir, Trikala, Seres, Monastir, and Belgrade.3 Castoria’s location led to its Jews maintaining close ties with the community of Salonica, the largest and most important in the Balkans and a leading center of Torah study. It is not surprising, therefore, that a question concerning this case was sent to R. Aharon haCohen Peraḥya of Salonica, probably due to his role as one of the chief rabbis (rabbanim kolelim) of that community, whose authority was respected and accepted by rabbis in all Balkan Jewish communities. 2 Meir Benayahu The Sabbatean Movement in Greece (=Sefunot, 14), Jerusalem 1973, pp. 227-30, 234-45, and more [in Hebrew]. See also in the index. 3 Stefan Andreev (ed.), Ottoman Documents on Balkan Jews, XVIth-XVIIth Centuries, Sofia, 1990, Doc. 14. For the close relations between these two communities, see also Daniel Estrousa, Magen Gibborim, Salonica 1754, §40, fol. 63a [in Hebrew]. 28 Yaron Ben-Naeh The Details of the Episode The wife of Moshe haCohen, a wealthy man of Castoria, was a bad wife, disobedient Moshe haCohen had a wicked wife who continuously misbehaved and was disobedient. He married another woman in order to restore the first one to the right path, but this was in vain. Moreover, she stole his property and hid it in houses of her non-Jewish acquaintances in town. and unchaste, with close relations (social and sexual) with non-Jews in town, including Janissaries from the local garrison. In order to change her ways, he married a second wife. This was in vain, and her reaction harsh and violent: she caused the death of the second wife, probably by poison; and seized the possessions of her husband, which she hid in the houses of her non-Jewish acquaintances in town. Surprisingly, even though the woman was continuing with her intimate relations, he still wanted his wife with him. A compromise negotiation that was conducted by an emissary from Jerusalem was of no avail. Relations between the couple deteriorated, and the peak came when one night she hit him with a heavy stick, causing him severe injuries. The fellow fled to Monastir with a few of his possessions where he married again (with a license from the local rabbi) after a five month period. He was still trying to appease his first wife, but she answered his letters with curses and menace. Later, he wanted to return to Castoria to visit his children and try to mediate a conflict that raged within the community. His wife heard about his intentions and ordered his murder by the Janissaries; he was now living in constant fear. It was then that the question arose as to whether he had broken his oath and breached his commitment to the emissary from the Holy Land—not to marry an additional wife—a breach that entailed paying a high fine and another compensation to his wife; or perhaps this was not the case because he had done so under duress and had committed himself conditionally, hoping that his wife would come back to him while also trying to save his assets. The man involved, as noted, was R. Moshe haCohen, and the emissary alluded to, who mediated between him and his wife, was R. Abraham, son of R. Moshe Galante, an emissary of the Jerusalem community.4 Apparently Moshe did return to Castoria, where he lived until his death in 1702. His last will and testament to his sons has survived.5 4 Avraham Yaari, Emissaries from Eretz-Israel, Jerusalem 1951, pp. 301-2 [in Hebrew]. 5 ‫ "במותב תלתא כחדא הוינא נחנא בי דינא דחתימין לחתא כד אתא‬.‫ קסטוריה תס"ב‬,‫צוואת ר' משה הכהן‬ ‫קדמנא הח'[כם] חיים הכהן יצ"ו וקם על רגליו והעיד בתורת עדות גמור'[ה] כראוי איך בהיותו הגביר משה‬ 29 ‫‪Dangerous Liaisons in Castoria‬‬ ‫הכהן נ"ע מוטל על מטתו חולה שעמד בחוליו כמו ד' או ה' חדשים וידענו בבירור שמאותו חולי נפטר לבית‬ ‫עולמו וחיי טבא לרבנן ולישראל שבק ובאותו חולי הלך הח'[כם] חיים הנז' לבקרו ומצאו חולה אך דבריו‬ ‫ומילוליו היו נכונים ונכוחים ומיושבים והשיב על הין הין ועל לאו לאו ושם היו ושם נמצאו ב' בניו ה"ה‬ ‫הגבירים ה"ר גבריאל וחיים הכהנים יצ"ו ואמר להח'[כם] חיים הנז' אני מצוה לבני מחמת מיתה ואתה תהיה‬ ‫לעד גמור ואמר דברים הללו בלשון לע"ז‪ :‬קומו לאש קאזאש מיאש קי מורה מי היגו איל ג'יקו הגביר אלישע‬ ‫הכהן יצ"ו אי טודו לוקי איי די דיינטרו די אילייאש קומו מטלטלי'[ם] די נחושת וברזל בדיל ועופרת ומטלטלי‬ ‫עץ קומו קארוטאש אי בוטאש מחוט ועד שרוך בעל אי תכשיטים של כסף וזהב ואי טודו מודו די מלבושים‬ ‫טאנטו די לאנה אי די שידה או לינו אי מעות בעין קי איש מחזיק אין איליוש בני הקטן אלישע הנז' אי טאנביין‬ ‫לאש קאואש קי אישטאן אין איל בולאטו אי לה בוטיקה קי אישטה אין איל ג'ארשי אי איל קאנפו קי אישטה‬ ‫אין איל ג'ארדאקי אי לאש וינייאש קי טינגו אין לה שיבדאד אי לאש וינייאש קי טינגו אין אל קאזאל די‬ ‫טיאורלישט"ה טודו אישטו שילודי במתנה גמורה כל הנז' אמי פיגו אלישע הנז' אי היום מי פיגו אלישע הנז'‬ ‫איש מחזיק בכל הנז"ל אי נו טיינין מיש פ'יגוש הר' גבריאל וחיים הנז' אין טודו אישטו פארטי משוה פרוטה‬ ‫קי טודו אישטו שילודי במתנה גמורה אמי פיגו אלישע הנז' לי ארישפונדייו איל ח'[כם] חיים הנז' אל גביר‬ ‫משה נ"ע הנז' אילי דישו איי שיעור אין טודו אישטו קילידאש אה וואישו פ'יגו אלישע הנז' אי ארישפונדייו‬ ‫הגביר משה נ"ע הנז' איי קון לו דילאמאדרי איי ובתנאי קי אישטי לה מאדרי שינייורה אי פאטרונה אין טודו‬ ‫אישטו קון מי פיג'ו אלישע הנז' ג'ונטו ואם באולי נו אב'רה אילייוש לוש אירמאנוש הנז' קי אפ'אלגין‪ :‬לי‬ ‫טורנו אדיזיר הח'[כם] חיים הנז' ווש פילייאש ד[י]וואישוש פיג'וש די טודו אישטו דיש"ו איל גביר משה נ"ע‬ ‫הנז' יא מי פיליייו‪ :‬בולטו איל ח'[כם] חיים אי ליש דישו אה גבריאל וחיים הנז' ווש קונטונטאש ווש אוטרוש די‬ ‫אפירמאס לה צואה די וואישו פאדרי רישפונדיירון אי דישירון לוקי אינקומינדה נואישו פאדרי נעשה ונשמע‪.‬‬ ‫כל זה העיד בפנינו הח'[כם] חיים הכהן בתורת עדות גמורה‪ :‬וכן היקר מתתיא רוסו קם על רגליו והעיד בתורת‬ ‫עדות גמורה שגם לו ציוה הגביר משה נ"ע הנ"ז הדברים האלו אות באות תיבה בתיבה וגם הר' מתתיא הנ"ז‬ ‫אמר שבשעת הצוואה הנ"ז היו דבריו ומלוליו נבונים ומיושבים כבני אדם הבריאים והשי'[ב] לנו על הין הין‬ ‫ועל לאו לאו כל זה העיד ה"ר מתתיא הנז' ‪ ...‬לא היה עם הח'[כם] חיים בשעת הצואה כי אם לבדו היה וגם‬ ‫הוברר שבשעת הצוואה לא נטלו הגבירים גבריאל וחיים הכהנים לא קנין ולא שבועה והיה זה בקאשטוריא‬ ‫יום ב' ח"י למב"י [=כלומר שמונה עשר יום לספירת העומר] שנת התס"ב וקיים‪ .‬יוסף מבורך דיין‪ .‬יצחק בכר‬ ‫אברהם ן' וינישטי דיין‪ .‬יעקב אליהו דיין‪.‬‬ ‫ ‬ ‫‪Shelomo Amarillo, Kerem Shelomo, Salonica, 1719, Ḥoshen Mishpaṭ, §71, fol. 198c [in‬‬ ‫‪Hebrew]. The will is further discussed in that volume, §72, fol. 200d-201a‬‬ ‫ ‬ ‫יעקב היו לו ג' בנים ראובן שמעון לוי והשיא אשה לראובן וברעות אלהא דשמיא נפטר ראובן בלא בנים"‬ ‫ויאמר יעקב לשמעון בא אל אשת אחיך ויבם אותה וישמע שמעון לקול אביו ‪ ...‬וכראות לוי בנו הקטן את אביו‬ ‫בסכנה חשב מחשבות בלבבו לפתות את אביו שיתן לו כל נכסיו ויפצר בו עד מאד עד שהודה אביו לדבריו‬ ‫ויקרא לוי לב' שכניו לעדים וכראות יעקב את זריזות ועורמת בנו הקטן ומחשבתו אשר חשב לסלק את אחיו‬ ‫שמעון מליורשו אז בחכמת תורתו צוה להשכנים שיכתבו בלשון לע"ז איך מניח כל נכסי ביתו ללוי בנו הקטן‬ ‫וכל זה היה בלי ידיעת שמעון וז"ל אין איסטי מישמו דיאה נוס מאנדו אלייאמאר איל שינייור חכם אינפירמו‬ ‫אין שו קאזה אי אב'יינדולי פריגונטארן פור איל דיאה אי מיש אין קי אישטאמוש נוס ריספונדייו קון טודו‬ ‫אינטירו אי ג'ואישיו אי דיקלארו אי דישו קי טודו קואנטו אין סו קאזה שי אלייארי קי פ'ואירי שולייו טאנטו‬ ‫אין מובליש קומו אין פלאטה אי אורו או אלגונה ג'ולייא די אויי קי איש שו אולטימה וילונטאד פור קואנטו‬ ‫דיג'ו סו איג'ו לוי אה אוג'ו אנייוש קי לו אישטה סוסטינטאנדו קון שו טראואגו פור קואנטו אין דיג'ו טיינפו‬ ‫איל דיג'ו ח"ר יעקב נו אה גאנאדו און אש לוס ליברוש קי סי אלייארין סיר סולייוש קומו אנשי מישמו דוש‬ ‫ספרים קי טייני אינפישאדו אה אישקריויר לה מיטאד די דיג'וש ליברוש אי און ספר שי לי די אשו איג'ו‬ ‫שמעון אאיל קי דיזי לי אה אוג'ו באשטאנטי מינטי קומו שו פושיבילידאד אי די טודו אישטו לי טומאמוש‬ ‫‪30‬‬ ‫‪Yaron Ben-Naeh‬‬ ‫‪The following is the episode as it was unfolded in Hebrew in the question sent to‬‬ ‫‪the rabbinical authority in Salonica:‬‬ ‫הגבי'[ר] ה"ר משה הכהן יצ"ו תושב עיר קאשטוריאה יע"א [=יכוננה עליון אמן] אומר ואלו דבריו‬ ‫‘ נְתָנני ה' בידי לא אּוכל קּום' (ע"פ איכה א‪ ,‬יד) זו אשה רעה שכל ימי היותו נשוי עמה לא נח ולא‬ ‫שקט ולא שלו מפני רוע מעלליה כדלף טורד ביום סגריר ואשת מדנים נשתוה עד שמחמת זה הלך‬ ‫ונשא אשה אחרת ברשות החכם השלם שבעיר מרביץ תורה ביניהם שהורה להתר וחשבו כי ע"י‬ ‫שתראה צרתה בצדה תחזור אשתו הא' [=הראשונה] למוטב ותהיה נשמעת לו ולא נעשתה מחשבתו‬ ‫כי לא עלתה לו ארוכה כי אדרבא הוסיפה על חטאתה פשע וגזלה כל נכסי בעלה הנמצאים אתה‬ ‫בבית והבריחה והטמינה אותם בבית תוגרמים וערלים‪ .‬ויהי אחרי כן נפטרה אשתו השניה לב"ע‬ ‫[=לבית עולמה] והוגד לו מפי מגידי אמת שאשתו הראשונה שלחה לה סם המות ע"י דבר אחר‬ ‫‪6‬‬ ‫שתאכל ומתה‪.‬‬ ‫ואחרי זאת שם נמצא ושם היה שליח אחד מא"י [=מארץ ישראל] תוב"ב [=תכונן ותבנה במהרה‬ ‫בימינו] והודיעו לו הדברי'[ם] האמורים והשתדל בכל מאמצי כח להטיל שלום ביניה'[ם] ולא עלתה‬ ‫בידו כמו שנתגלה אח"כ‪ .‬וה"ר משה הנזכר כדי שתשיב לו אשתו כל הנכסים שגזלה ממנו נתרצ'[ה]‬ ‫מן השפה ולחוץ להיות עמה בשלום אך לא מרצונו ולא מלבו והכריחו השליח שיכתו'[ב] כתב על‬ ‫זה שאם באולי ישא אשה אחר'[ת] שיהיה חייב ה"ר משה הנזכר לתת להקדש א"י תוב"ב סך מה‬ ‫<חמש מאות גרוש לירושלים אם ישא אשה נוספת‪ ,‬ועוד שלוש מאות אם יגע במעות המוחבאים‬ ‫בבית> בתורת קנס ושישבע על זה‪< .‬מהסכם הפשרה המובא בהמשך עולה כי הגביר הבטיח‬ ‫לאשתו‪ ,‬מרת לידישייא‪ ,‬גם מתנה בסך מאה גרוש אריות כדי שתשא ותתן בהם>‪ ,‬וה"ר משה הנזכר‬ ‫קודם שיודה וקודם שנשבע על התנאי והקנס הנזכר מסר מודע'[ה] בפני עדים כשרים שכל מה‬ ‫שיעשה עמה הוא באונס מפני שהיתה תפוסה מכל הנכסים הנזכר וכדי שתשיב ותחזיר הנכסים‬ ‫הודה לדבריה ונשבע לקיים התנאי והקנס הנז' וגם בשעה שנשב'[ע] אמ'[ר] בלבו ה"ר משה הנז'‬ ‫אני נשבע על תנאי שהיא תהיה נשמעת לי ותשוב מדרכיה ומעלליה הרעים ואם לא תחזור למוטב‬ ‫ולא תהיה נשמעת לי אין כאן שבועה כלל ומעכשיו היא בטלה‪ .‬ואחר הדברים האלה בראות ה"ר‬ ‫משה הנזכר כי אשתו הנזכרת היתה מתייחדת עם תוגרמים רגליים וקנא את אשתו והיתה הקנאה‬ ‫קנין אי לו פ'ירמו די שו פרופייא מאנו דילאנטרי די נושאי אנשי מיסמו טומאמוש קנין אל דיג'ו לוי דיקי‬ ‫דיוירה שושטינאר אה דיג'ו סו פאדרי ח"ר יעקב טודו טיינפו קי איל דייו פואירי שירבידו די טינירלו אין‬ ‫אישטי מונדו די טודו שו ניסיסארייו‪ .‬מ"א [=מודה אני] יעקב‪ .‬פב"פ עד‪ .‬פב"פ עד"‪.‬‬ ‫ ‪6‬‬ ‫‪I have dwelt elsewhere on poisoning as a simple and easily available means of getting rid‬‬ ‫‪of someone, less problematic as a criminal offense. I refer the reader to what I wrote in‬‬ ‫‪Yaron Ben-Naeh, “An Adultery Scandal in Istanbul: Responsa Literature as a Source for‬‬ ‫‪Jewish Life in the Ottoman City”, Mi-Mizraḥ umi-Macarav 8 (2008), pp. 40-41 n. 11 [in‬‬ ‫‪Hebrew]; see also C. Imber, “Why You Should Poison Your Husband: A Note on Liability‬‬ ‫‪in Hanafi Law in the Ottoman Period”, Islamic Law and Society 1 (1994), pp. 206-16.‬‬ ‫‪31‬‬ ‫‪Dangerous Liaisons in Castoria‬‬ ‫בוערת בקרבו כאש בוערה ולא היה יודע מה לעשות כי היה מתיירא מהתוגרמים פן יהרגוהו על‬ ‫דבר אשתו וכל מה שהיה אומר לה שתעשה היא עושה בהפך כי לא היתה חושבת אותו בעיניה‬ ‫כקליפת השום עד שכ"כ [=שכל כך] גדלה רשעתה כי ביום א' בקשה איזה תואנה ועלילה ונתקוטטו‬ ‫והיא ברוע מעלליה לקחה עץ א' והכהו לבעלה על ראשו מכה עצומה מאד עד כי נבקעה ראשו כי‬ ‫כל כוונתה היתה להרוג אותו ע"י ההכאות ההם‪ .‬והוכרח ה"ר משה הנזכר לברוח מן העיר בחצות‬ ‫הלילה באשון לילה ואפלה אי מפני הבושה כי הכרת פניו ענתה בו ואי מצד המכות עצומות‬ ‫כי כל ראשו היה פצעים וחבורות ורטיות ולא היה לו פתחון פה לדבר מפני אימה ופחד גדולה‬ ‫מהתוגרמים והרגליים הנכנסים והיוצאים בביתו ולקח מעט מזער מנכסיו מהבא בידו והלך לו לעיר‬ ‫מונישטירייו [=מונסטיר] ונשאר כל רכושו ומקנה קניינו אשר רכש בידה ורשותה ואעפי"כ [=ואף‬ ‫על פי כן] בהיותו שם במונישטירייו שלח לה במכתב לאמר שאם תחזור בתשו'[בה] ותעזוב דרכיה‬ ‫המקולקלים הרי טוב יחזור לביתו ואם לאו שישא אשה אחרת‪ .‬והיא תשיב אמריה לו בחירופי'[ם]‬ ‫וגדופי'[ם]‪ .‬ושהה שם כמו ה' חדשים אולי בהמשך הימים תחזור בה ותסיר גלוליה מפניה ונאפופיה‬ ‫מבין שדיה וכראות שלא חזרה בה ואדרבא עודנה מחזקת בטומאתה הלך לפני חכם העיר וסיפר לו‬ ‫כל הדברים האלה והראה לו כתב א' חתומה מיחידי עיר קאשטוריאה מעידין ומגידין איך אשתו‬ ‫הנזכר’[ת] הכהו מכה רבה מאד ונודע לו אמיתות הדברי'[ם] הנזכרי'[ם] אז אמר לו החכם הנז' בודאי‬ ‫אשה זו היא מורדת ונתן לו רשות להשיא אשה אחרת על פי החכם הנזכר‪ .‬ושהה שם כמו שנה‬ ‫ומחצה‪ .‬והן עתה שמע ה"ר משה הנזכר המריבות שנפלו בין יחידי ק"ק קאשטוריאה ובין חברי‬ ‫החברה של ג"ח [=גמילות חסדים] וגם שנתאוה לראות את בניו העומדים שם בעיר קאשטוריאה‬ ‫הלך לשם אולי יתווך השלום בין היחידים ובין החברים ולראות את בניו‪ .‬וכשידעה אשתו המרשעת‬ ‫שבא בעלה בעיר הלכה ודברה אל התוגרמי’[ם] רגליים בכך ממון שנתנה להם כדי שיהרגו לבעלה‬ ‫והוכרח ה"ר משה הנזכר להיות נחבא בבתי גואי ולא יצא החוצה מפחד הרגליים שרוצים להורגו‬ ‫וכאשר נודע כל זה באמת לכל באי שער עירו וכאלה רבות ממה שעושה לו אשתו המרשעת‪ .‬ועתה‬ ‫שאל ה"ר משה הנזכר אם יש רפואה למחלתו מהשבועה והקנס הנזכר אם הוא פטור יען הוא אנוס‬ ‫גמור והשבוע'[ה] שנשבע היה באונס כנראה מתוך המודעא וגם שאמר בלבו על תנאי שהיא תחזור‬ ‫למוטב‪ ,‬ואם לאו שהשבועה אינה שבועה‪ ,‬באופן כי יש אונס ממון ואונס הגוף והוחלה השבועה‬ ‫מאליה ואין כאן שבועה או נאמר שהשבועה במקומה עומדת וחייב לפרוע הקנס‪ .‬על הכל יורינו‬ ‫‪7‬‬ ‫מורינו ורבינו המורה לצדקה על הדין ועל האמת ושכמ"ה [=ושכרו כפול מן השמים]‪.‬‬ ‫‪Translation:‬‬ ‫‪The rich and honorable Moshe haCohen, resident of the city Castoria may God‬‬ ‫‪protect it, says as follows: he has been given a bad wife, and that during their‬‬ ‫‪marital life he has not lived in peace and quiet due to her ceaseless wicked actions‬‬ ‫ ‪7‬‬ ‫‪Aharon haCohen Peraḥya, Paraḥ Maṭṭe Aharon, 2 vols., Amsterdam 1743, vol. 2, §106,‬‬ ‫‪fol. 146c-d [in Hebrew].‬‬ ‫‪32‬‬ Yaron Ben-Naeh and her quarreling nature. Thus, he went and married a second wife, by permission of the community’s rabbi, both assuming that by seeing that her husband has another wife she will amend her ways and will become an obedient wife. But these aspirations did not become true, and the state of things between the couple only worsened, and she has added crime upon her sins and stole his valuables that were at home, smuggled them [out] and hid them in houses of fellow citizens, Muslim Turks and Christians. A while later the second wife died, and Moshe was told by reliable people that the first wife had sent the second wife a poisoned foodstuff, of which she died. After that affair, an emissary from Palestine [=a rabbi who collected money for one of the communities of the four Holy Cities] arrived in the city, and as he was informed of the case, he made great effort to bring the two to make peace with each other, but as we will see, he failed. In order to get back his stolen belongings, Moshe—the husband—reluctantly agreed to return and live with her peacefully, and he was made to sign a promissory note and swear a severe oath that if he will marry another wife he will pay the sum of 500 kurush to the endowment of Jerusalem, and another 300 kurush fine if he will touch the money which is hidden at home. He also promised his first wife 100 kurush as a present of good will in order that she will negotiate and conduct some business with the money. Yet, before swearing and signing the written settlement, Moshe declared before legally acceptable witnesses that all he is about to agree to is not valid, and is done just so that she will return his stolen belongings. Moreover, during taking the oath, he made a condition in his heart according to which the agreement will be valid only if she will mend her ways and become an obedient and dutiful wife, otherwise the oath is null. Later on he saw his wife repeatedly spending time with Turkish Janissaries (under suspicious circumstances, as she was alone with these men), and he suspected she was committing adultery with them; jealousy was raging in him like a fire, but he did not find a solution, as he was afraid that the soldiers would murder him. Nonetheless, whatever he requested or ordered, she did the opposite, as he was nothing for her. And her wickedness grew to the degree that one day she found a false cause and quarreled with him, and then she took a wooden rod and beat his head with it and broke his skull, in order to murder him. So, he had to flee from the city at midnight for two reasons: the first was his shameful condition, injured by his own wife; secondly, he was afraid of the Turks and the janissaries who were frequenting their home, and could not complain against her. He gathered 33 Dangerous Liaisons in Castoria some valuables and escaped to Monastir, leaving behind all his property in her hands. From Monastir he wrote his wife a letter, pleading with her to behave properly and promising that if she will agree, he will return home; or else he will marry another wife. And she answered in curses and damnations. So he remained [in Monastir] for about five months, hoping she would repent and cease to live in such vile a way. And when he finally realized she did not regret and would not change her bad ways, and had even worsened, he went to the local rabbi and told him the whole story and showed him a letter from Castorian Jews attesting and supporting his version, and the rabbi declared her as a rebellious wife and allowed him to marry another wife. Moshe remained in Monastir a year and a half. Now he wished to return to his native city for two reasons: he heard that there were quarrels between some people of the Castorian community and the members of the local Gemilut Ḥasadim benevolent society, and as an honorable member he might try to bring peace between the parties, and secondly he wished to see his sons who live in Castoria. So he left on his way, and when his wicked wife heard about his arrival she hurried to the Janissaries and paid them to murder him. Moshe now had to hide and did not dare to go outdoors, as he was afraid he would be assassinated by the Janissaries who were after him, as was well known, and all knew of her behavior and actions. Now Moshe comes and asks about his legal status—is his oath still valid so that he must pay the fines to which he (forcibly) agreed, or is he free of it as he agreed to it under pressure and while signing made a condition (which she failed to fulfill), and he also declared its invalidity in advance. Is his oath valid and he must pay the mentioned fine or is it not valid and he is free—Our Lord the Rabbi would decide the ruling and the truth, and may he receive his payment from heaven (that is, from God)”. Clearly, this is a question sent by Moshe haCohen or someone on his behalf. The phrasing presents him in a positive light and his wife most negatively, though without applying the words “adultery”, “prostitution”, or “rebellious”—key terms in halakhic discussions of such issues. The person submitted the question, while presenting the facts straightforwardly, carefully walking a tightrope: the woman is a shrew and commits terrible and unacceptable acts, but this is not the subject of the question. Surprisingly, the decisor is requested to judge only in the matter of the oath and the fine 34 Yaron Ben-Naeh regarding taking a second wife in marriage. As is common in the responsa literature the narrative submitted as a halakhic issue presents the man’s. It is possible that the manner in which the facts are presented and interpreted do not reflect the real situation, at least as experienced by the wife, or even of the couple’s social environment. We shall now examine how this episode illuminates several aspects of life in the Jewish communities in the Ottoman Empire. Women and the Family The relations between the man and his wife, who by her behavior had undermined all traditionally assumed power relations, even if highly irregular as they certainly were, deviate from anything we would expect from a traditional Jewish society in a Muslim country. However, they do teach us that the accepted image of women in Muslim lands as being weak and passive is mistaken. We encounter here a woman of strong and independent character who conducts business by herself. From the agreement drawn up between the two, it is obvious that she was well off, and her husband even obligated himself to provide her with an additional significant sum so that she could “negotiate with it”; in other words, she was a merchant, a partner in an economic undertaking, or a moneylender, and independent enough to make financial gain. Clearly she managed her own financial affairs, but this point does not merit special attention. She is a woman who does not balk at poisoning, acts of violence, and even commissioning a murder, this in addition to her use of violent language and behavior that is far from normative. The wife maintains friendly ties and romantic or even sexual connections with Turks and with soldiers (Janissaries); in this, as a Jewess, she trespasses the boundaries set by the community. It transpires, even though she is an extraordinary woman who is far from representing a common Jewish woman, that at least theoretically the possibility of significant social mobility is open even to a Jewish woman in a provincial city, where we would expect to find a much more close-knit and segregated lifestyle. Thus, this lady, Lidisia, joins a gallery of other strong-willed women mentioned in passing in the Hebrew sources, mainly the responsa literature. Some of these women display physical and verbal violence toward their husbands,8 others put the emphasis 8 Avraham De Boton, Leḥem Rav, Izmir, 1660, §52, fol. 32a-b [in Hebrew]. 35 Dangerous Liaisons in Castoria on control of possessions and are able to read and write, while yet others maintain friendly connections and/or sexual relations with non-Jews and exploit their special standing to threaten their husbands or even communal leaders. Besides crossing community bounds, she also trespasses gender limits, behaving in a manly manner— strong character; cunning, fearless behavior; and physical violence. Another issue raised by this document is the question of bigamy or polygamy. Among both Muslims and Jews, taking a second or third wife (while being married) was not a widespread phenomenon, certainly not among the middle class, and not in western Anatolia and the Balkan provinces, unlike in the Arab ones. The Hebrew sources relevant to this issue generally deal with permission for a husband who wishes to marry a second wife; only rarely do they mention the attitude of the first wife. That she is opposed to her husband marrying another woman is understandable and well known, but it is rare that we read of her active opposition to this step. In the present case the wife’s protests were useless, so she simply decided to murder her competitor, even though it is unclear why and how the second wife was an obstacle to her or interfered with her mode of life. This episode is informative about another matter. Taking a second wife is generally related to barrenness, the wife being unable to function, or the desire of the husband to marry a young and pretty woman. Clearly none of these are relevant in the present case: Moshe does not want children, since he already has some—as is evident from his will; nor was taking another wife a carnal matter. Rather, it was a way to cope with the impossibility of living with his first wife and to subdue a woman whose behavior was improper. The very threat to take another wife is a strategy employed by men well aware—as is clear from the text—that such an act would anger the first wife and perhaps cause her to mend her ways and be obedient and modest, traits expected of her by society. Several questions remain open in this respect: a) Why does Moshe want to go back to live with such a difficult woman? Even after her licentious affairs and despite the fact that she wounded him physically and took his possessions, he still wants her and hopes that she will repent. Why does he not divorce her on the grounds of adultery and being rebellious? The reader is reminded that a charge of adultery is difficult to prove, and perhaps that is why it was not raised in the question sent to Rabbi Aharon haCohen Peraḥya, which centered round the husband’s oath and the fine he was to pay should he take a second wife. It is hard to 36 Yaron Ben-Naeh believe that he was afraid of the monetary implications of a divorce: theoretically he could divorce her without alimony because she was an adulteress; moreover, he was wealthy enough to sustain such an outlay. Could it be that he loved this woman despite her doings, or perhaps because of them? b) Why does the wife not put an end to the marriage? Is it because her society would not accept a Jewess who lives with a non-Jew? Or why does she not convert to Islam and mobilize Islamic law and the soldiers to further her cause? Could it be that Judaism afforded her more freedom of action than did Islam? c) A third set of questions relates to the families: both those of the husband and the wife are silent about the case. Perhaps they do not live in the same city? Are the parents of the couple still alive? And what about the children, who are only mentioned when the father wants to visit them from his place of exile: who cared for them all these past months and years—his parents, or other relatives? A long time passed before the father mentioned he wished to see them and it might be that were it not for the other matter—mediation of an internal community dispute—he would have waited even longer. What does this indicate about parent-children relationships? Relations with the Majority Society9 I have already noted above the mobility of Moshe’s wife between the Jewish community and the outside, non-Jewish, environment. This should not be taken for granted, whether due to her upbringing (the obstacles posed by language and culture) or to the normative behavior expected of a Jewish woman. How, then, did such a woman develop, one who could communicate in Turkish with the soldiers and in Greek with residents of Castoria? How and why was she attracted to this milieu, so far removed from her own world, her education, and from the values she was expected to internalize? And once again I raise the question: Why did she choose to remain within 9 I have dwelt on acculturation of Jews in Ottoman society, its significance and many manifestations in my book and several articles. See Yaron Ben-Naeh, Jews in the Realm of the Sultans: Ottoman Jewish Society in the Seventeenth Century, Tübingen, 2008, ch. 9, esp. pp. 425-33; id., ‘Urban Encounters: The Muslim-Jewish Case in the Ottoman Empire’, in: Eyal Ginio and Elie Podeh eds., Researching Ottoman History: Studies in Honor of Prof. Amnon Cohen, Brill, Leiden 2014, 177-197. 37 Dangerous Liaisons in Castoria the fold of Judaism and not take the final step—conversion to Islam—as did tens of thousands of Christians in the Ottoman Balkans?10 No matter how extreme this case was, it is still informative about the existence of relations between Jews and non-Jews. We can learn about such connections and friendly relations, and even acculturation into the milieu of the majority society, from the regulation issued in Castoria’s Jewish community in 1685. Its purpose was to put an end to the custom of non-Jews participating in Jewish weddings, whether as guests and thus spectators or as hired musicians. It even notes the possibility that an important personage in the city might order that musicians be brought to the wedding, probably as a sign of friendship and fondness, to add to the merry atmosphere. The intention of those who drafted the ordinance was to erect a barrier between Jews and non- Jews and protect Jewish society and its members from assimilation and from intimate relations. Perhaps the date of this regulation also hints at an indirect reaction to the scandalous affair in question with non-Jews, which was no secret, since it emphasizes the need to keep Jewish women, who are less careful about covering their faces and bodies, out of the sight of non-Jews. The sanction to be applied to transgressors was excommunication and a fine totalling two percent of their property.11 10 Conversion to Islam is discussed in depth by Marc D. Baer, Honored by the Glory of Islam: Conversion and Conquest in Ottoman Europe, Oxford, 2008. 11 Here is the copy of the mentioned communal regulation, dated 1685: ‫ זה יצא ראשונה ראה ראינו פועל רע ומר לענה וראש שחוק‬... ‫"טופס הסכמה של ק"ק קאסטוריאה יע"א‬ ‫וקלות ראש ויהי ביום כל"[ו]ת כ"ל ששון וכ"ל שמחה כ"ל חתן וכ"ל כל"ה ערבה כל שמחה ערוב כבד מאד‬ ‫עומדות הנשים מקושטות מרקדות בפני הערלים המנגנין זמרין גברי ועניין נשי לא זו אף זו ויבאו האנשים‬ ‫על הנשים קרובי החתן והכלה ותצאנה כל הנשים הקרובות אשה לקראת אשה ונותנים יד זה לזה ומרקדים‬ ]‫זה עם זה דו פרצופין זכר ונקבה ויראו כל העם וירונו והנה פשתה המספחת כמעט הותרה להם הותר'[ה‬ ‫ס"ד אלא נעשת'[ה] להם כהיתר וכבר זכרנו ימים מקד'[ם] חסידי'[ם] הראשוני'[ם] גדרו את הפרצה הזאת פעם‬ ‫ עתה חזרנו על הראשונה וקבלנו עלינו ועל הבאים‬.‫ושתים וגדורה היתה וברוב הזמן נפרצה פרץ ע"פ פרץ‬ ‫אחרינו ברצון טוב ואהב'[ה] ונפש חפצה מדעתינו ורצונינו ונשבענו שבועה חמורה ע"ד המב"ה וע"ד הנ"ב‬ ‫וע"ד הרבנים חסידים קדישי שאלוניקי יע"א לגדור הפרצה הזאת שלא לשמוח אל גיל בעמים ובכל שמחתנו‬ ‫לא יתערב זר שלא יכנסו בגבולינו כל מיני זמר וכל מין ניגון ע"י גוי גם כל מין למינו יערב האנשים לקראת‬ ‫ גם תנאי היו דברינו‬.‫האנשים ונשים לקראת נשים ששים ושמחים לעשות רצון קונם ולא ישנו את תפקידם‬ ‫שאם ח"ו יבאו אצלנו תקיפי ארעא מגויי ארעא וכל עורב למינו ערב וטמא טמא יקרא ויאמר להביא אצלינו‬ ‫כל מין זמר וכל מין ניגון ונהיה מוכרחים במעשינו לקבלם הא מילתא דלא שכיחא היא ולא גזרנו על זאת‬ ‫ אמנם ינגנו בבית החתן ואחוזת מריעיו ולא תעמוד אשה כנגדם ולא תראה החוצה בין‬.‫והותר לנו לקבלם‬ ‫נשואה ובין אלמנה אפי'[לו] כבת שית או כבת שיתין כלל ועיקר ובזאת יהיה לישראל שלישיה בקרב הארץ‬ ‫ וכל הממאן ולא ישמע בקול מורים ובשרירו'[ת] לבו הרע ילך ויעבור‬... .‫והחוט המשולש לא במהרה ינתק אמן‬ 38 Yaron Ben-Naeh Voluntary Character and Vulnerability of the Community We know from other sources that the existence of a Jewish community was dependent upon the agreement of its members to accept the authority of the elected leadership and obey its rulings. In the question sent to Rabbi Peraḥya the passivity of the community stands out—the communal leadership is powerless when faced with a member who does not comply to its rules of behavior (in contrast to the rhetoric of the regulations issued that very year, threatening excommunication and fines, that perhaps were never implemented), and we see the lack of any ability to oppose intervention from the outside on the part of the authorities or local powerful personages.12 The inherent weakness of the communal leadership was a result of the dhimmi status that curtailed the jurisdictional power of the Jewish communities and their ability to punish delinquents. The question also mentions the tension between the community leadership and the benevolent society, though it does not specify what was the cause of this dispute. The Status of the Holy Land vis-à-vis the Community Alongside the subordination of the Castoria community to the Jewish leadership of Salonica and the sending of this question to a rabbi of that community, the episode illuminates the special standing of the Holy Land. Over half a century ago, Avraham Yaari noted the unique role played by emissaries from the Holy Land for Diaspora communities through laying down halakhic rulings and solving or mediating ‫על אחת מהנה בין איש ובין אשה בין שיעבור על דברינו בין בדבור בין במעשה בין ברמיזא יהיו דברינו‬ ‫אלה אליו כגחלי אש תבא אליו מארה דמאריה עלמא ארור הוא ביום כו' ומחוייבים אנחנו בשבוע'[ה] חמורה‬ ‫להחרים לאיש העושה זאת או לאשה אשר תעבור לנדותו ולשמתו כדשמתי'[ה] ברק למרוז ולהבדילו לרעה‬ ‫מכל שבטי ישראל פתו פת כותי וכו' ולא למנות אותו בעשרה לקדיש ולקדושה ולא לשמוח בשמחתו ולא‬ ‫להתערב באבלו ולא לקבל את בנו לת"ת כללן של דברי'[ם] יהי'[ה] מובדל ומוחר'[ם] עד ישוב וניחם בכל לבו‬ ‫ובכל מאודו ויתן קנס אחד מחמשים ממה שיש לו דהיינו שילכו הממוני'[ם] וטובי העיר וישומו כל מה שיש לו‬ ‫ כלומר שני אחוזים משווי כלל רכושו] ואז יעל'[ה] ויבא‬,‫אפי'[לו] תכשיטי אשתו ויתן א' מנ' [=אחד מחמשים‬ ‫ יום אחד לחדש תמוז‬.‫ ושומע לנו ישכון בטח והיה עליהו רענן‬... '‫בקהל ה' בכלל העושי'[ם] רצון קונם כו‬ ."'‫משנת התמ"ה ליצירה והכל שריר ובריר וקים ע"כ טופס ההסכמה הנז‬ Peraḥya, Paraḥ Maṭṭe Aharon, §5, fol. 9a-b. 12 For the weakness of the Jewish community, see, for example, Ben-Naeh, Jews in the Realm of the Sultans, p. 241 and elsewhere. 39 Dangerous Liaisons in Castoria communal disputes. This case lends support to Yaari’s conclusion. Galante was not only an authoritative personality, since he represented the Holy Land and Jerusalem, but also had an undisguised interest in drawing up the agreement, for it included a substantial fine in favor of the Holy Land, and thus would augment his own income.13 Personal Possessions and Consumption Wealthy persons kept their assets in the form of homes, clothing (especially embroidered dresses and other textiles), jewellery, household utensils of expensive materials such as gold and silver, and much cash money. Thus they could use their wealth for pleasure and luxury, as a display of their economic standing, and as a manner of investment when there was no developed banking system. Such items could be easily sold for cash, or transferred to a safe place when threatened by fire, confiscation, or looting. Spiriting away possessions by a wife to her parents’ home or to that of non-Jewish friends, out of the reach of her husband, is a well-known practice.14 Male Honor Another subject that appears offhandedly in the question is male honor, which I have discussed in extenso elsewhere.15 The woman in question exceeds accepted gender limits, overturning the common power relationship. It is she who threatens her husband, a respected wealthy man, and it is she who injures him physically and causes him to flee shamefully. In this case, then, male honor was undermined twice, both when the wife committed adultery (especially with non-Jews) and when she physically assaulted and wounded her husband—a total reversal of the gender roles in this patriarchal society. This woman placed herself outside the body of proper and chaste wives and women. 13 Yaari, Emissaries, pp. 301-2. 14 See Ezra Malki, cEn Mishpaṭ, Constantinople, 1770, Even hacEzer §2, fol. 54c [in Hebrew]. 15 Yaron Ben-Naeh, “‘El onor no se merka kon paras’: Honor and Its Meaning among Ottoman Jews”, Jewish Social Studies 11, 2 (2005), pp. 19-50. 40 Yaron Ben-Naeh She does this at a time and in a society in which one of the manifestations of male honor is to maintain the chaste behavior of the women in his household and to provide for them. Fear of disgrace mandates obedience. Even if society might treat adultery with some leniency, beating and wounding the husband went too far in the reversal of gender roles. To this should be added the woman’s involvement with the non-Jewish milieu, her fluency in additional languages, her capacity for maneuvering, her ability to maintain personal relationships, and the fact that she apparently engaged in commerce. Privacy Another noteworthy fact is the lack of privacy within the community owing to population density and housing conditions, and perhaps to a different mentality. Unlike the privacy of the body, male or female, which was almost a taboo, and covering the body with clothes as an important marker, denoting chastity and honor, there was no possibility of hiding information. The public was aware of what was going on—but did not intervene. We see this in both cases—here and in the adultery/ fornication scandal in Istanbul.16 This is attested in dozens of cases, whether in the adultery scandal in Istanbul or when men cohabited with Christian female slaves. *** A seemingly minor and extraordinary episode in one of the cities in the Balkans is illuminating concerning a wide range of topics, whether on the community level or in the realms of culture and society. It undermines accepted images and stereotypes, thus calling for reassessment of Jewish history as well as some of the paradigms in Ottoman history. It demonstrates how diffusive were the limits of communal life within the city, how weak the communal leadership was when faced with transgressions of religious rulings and the breach of social norms (especially by strong, determined people with close relations to local men of the ruling class), and how deep the gap was between communal and religious ideals and the realities of daily life. Above all, it teaches us how much our image of the past is in need of revision through careful re-reading with sensitivity and the lenses of modern discourse. 16 See Note 6 above. 41 Dangerous Liaisons in Castoria 42 Ioannis Zelepos Multi-denominational Interaction in the Ottoman Balkans from a legal Point of View: the Institution of Kiambin-marriages Ioannis Zelepos Institut für Byzantinistik, Byzantinische Kunstgeschichte und Neogräzistik, Munich Introduction The present paper attempts to approach the phenomenon of multi-denominational coexistence in the framework of early modern Ottoman society from the aspect of institutionalized legal practice on a very individual level. This concerns marriages between members of different religious communities, something that is to be considered as a most intensive manifestation of social interaction. As an introductory remark it must be noted that Ottoman society in this period was characterized by the coexistence of different legal systems that in many aspects were totally incompatible to each other. So, in contrast to the Christian concept of marriage as a Holy Sacrament, Islamic sharia law defined it in terms of a merely civil exchange, distinguishing even different types of legitimate cohabitation. One type was the permanent marriage called nikkah daimî, which was mainly concluded between Muslim coreligionists who had to belong to comparable social status groups and which was based on the explicit mutual consent of both partners. The formal wedding was performed in the presence of either a qadi or an imām and included the payment of a dowry by the husband to his wife.1 These prerequisites were not mandatory in the second type of marriage, called nikkah kenise, which was actually a form of legitimate concubinage, the wife being considered essentially to belong to the personal property of the husband, although 1 This also constitutes a stark contrast to Christian customary law (although not founded in religious dogma), according to which the dowry has to be paid unexceptionally by the bride’s family to the husband. 43 Multi-denominational Interaction in the Ottoman Balkans children procreated in these relationships had legitimate status without any restriction. Finally, there was the so-called nikkah muntca or mowokket, known also as kiambin or kabin in Western European, respectively kepinion or kapinion in Greek text sources.2 Like the other types of marriage, it was perceived as a civil contract that had to be concluded in presence of a qadi and provided the payment of a dowry by the husband. However, in contrast to these, kiambin-marriages had a time limit that was fixed in the contract; it usually extended up to twenty years but could also cover much shorter periods of time. Furthermore, this type of contract did not require both partners or at least the husband to be of Muslim faith, but could also be concluded between non- Muslim couples with the only restriction that both partners had to belong to a religion of the book, i.e., were either Christian or Jew. By the institution of different types of marriage, Islamic law provided an efficient legal framework to legitimize inter- religious relationships, not only between Muslim men and non-Muslim women, which can be assumed to have been a standard combination in this context, but also between non-Muslim coreligionists, who under certain circumstances found a kiambin contract preferable to a religious wedding. There is no question that the development of the institution of kiambin-marriage in a historical perspective provides a revealing aspect of the general process of socio- cultural integration in the Ottoman period. It is, however, to this day widely neglected in scholarship, something that may have not the least ideological reasons, given that the phenomenon by itself poses an obvious challenge for traditional perceptions of allegedly clear-cut religious and ethnic identities in pre-modern Ottoman society. The purpose of the present paper is to examine on the basis of evidence—admittedly incomplete because the research is far from being exhaustive—mainly from Greek text sources, the appearance and spread of kiambin-marriages involving Orthodox Christians in a historical perspective from the fifteenth century until the beginning of the nineteenth. It will also deal with the reactions of the Orthodox Church leadership to this phenomenon and finally give an outline of the possible reasons for the adoption of kiambin-marriages by non-Muslim groups in the Ottoman Empire. 2 For the whole topic of marriage, see Charles Hamilton (ed.), The Hedaya: Commentary on the Islamic Laws, New Delhi ²1870 (1994 reprint), pp. 25-67. Although the temporal limited marriage is formally forbidden in Sunni Islam (ibid., p. 33), several pragmatic regulations were made already in early Islam which practically allowed it; see Susan A. Spectorsky (ed.), Chapters on Marriage and Divorce: Responses of Ibn Hanbal and Ibn Rāhwayh, Austin 1993, p. 13f., so it can be considered as fully established in Sunni 44 Ioannis Zelepos Text evidence The earliest probable mention of kiambin-marriages in an Orthodox text is found in an encyclical letter issued by the Patriarch of Constantinople, Maximos III, in 1477, that is just some twenty years after the end of the Byzantine Empire, in a period when the Orthodox Church began to reorganize its internal structures according to the new order established by Mehmet the Conqueror.3 The text strictly penalizes this kind of cohabitation, saying that “Those who abandoned the Church and the blessing of the Church by living in a pagan way in the status of kiambin are considered to have denied their faith, are not forgiven and do not deserve a Christian funeral after their demise, if they do not repent”.4 The denial of a Christian funeral is equivalent to the most severe religious punishment the Church can impose according to ecclesiastical law, the so called “Anathema”, which means lasting excommunication and, in consequence, eternal condemnation of the soul of the convicted.5 The extreme rigor of the formulation indicates that the church leadership was obviously well aware of the phenomenon customary law already in the pre-ottoman period. On the Ottoman legal system see the introduction to Ekmeleddin Ihsanoglou (ed.), History of the Ottoman State, Society & Civilization, vol. 1, Istanbul 2001, pp. 431-489. 3 The text was recently edited by Machi Paisi-Apostolopoulou and Dimitrios G. Apostolopoulos, Μετά την Κατάκτησιν, Στοχαστικές προσαρμογές του Πατριαρχείου Κωνσταντινουπόλεως σε ανέκδοτη εγκύκλιο του 1477, Athens 2006, pp. 55-66. For a general historical overview see Steven Runciman, The Great Church in Captivity. A study of the Patriarchate of Constantinople from the eve of the Turkish conquest to the War of Greek Independence, Cambridge 1968, pp. 165-207; see also Gunnar Hering, Das islamische Recht und die Investitur des Gennadios Scholarios (1454), in Balkan Studies Bd. 2/1961, pp. 231-256, on the legal implications of the appointment of Gennadios Scholarios as first Orthodox Patriarch of Constantinople after the conquest by Mehmet. 4 Paisi-Apostolopoulou and Apostolopoulos, Μετά την Κατάκτησιν, p. 63: “Τους την εκκλησίαν και την ευλογίαν της εκκλησίας αφιέντας και εθνικώ τρόπω καπηνιαζόμενους, ως την πίστην αρνουμένους, ασυγχωρήτους έχομεν και μηδέ ταφής αξιούσθωσαν, ει μη μετανοήσουσιν”. 5 Actually, in the Ottoman context it was also the only—and accordingly often used— punishment upon which the Orthodox Church could effectively base her legislative authority; see on this Panagiotis Michailaris, Αφορισμός: Η προσαρμογή μιας ποινής στις ανάγκες της Τουρκοκρατίας, Athens 1997. 45 Multi-denominational Interaction in the Ottoman Balkans and perceived it as a threat in terms of cohesion of her flock.6 What is more striking, however, in the cited statement, is that it uses the term “kiambin” in a very customary way, so one can assume that the authors of the text as well as their intended recipients were quite familiar with this institution. Thus, it is also doubtful whether the decree of 1477 had a considerable effect in prohibiting Orthodox Christians from entering into kiambin-marriages. This is indicated also by the second text source mentioned here, although it contains only indirect evidence about kiambin-marriages. It is, namely, the renowned Nomokanon of Manouil Malaxos, a collection of laws based on Roman-Byzantine legal tradition, which were translated into colloquial Greek and which after its first publication in 1562 was to become a most important reference work of written law in the Ottoman-Orthodox Balkans for the following two hundred years at least. Malaxos makes explicit mention of “illegal marriage” in a separate chapter, where legal consequences are also revealed in detail.7 In contrast, however, to the clear-cut separation between legal and illegal marriage expressed in this chapter, the Nomokanon shows a much more flexible approach to the directly interrelated theme of defining legitimacy of children. Instead of simply applying the criterion of marital or extramarital birth—as were logically consistent and expectable in a purely Christian context—it introduces not less than four different degrees of legitimacy: If someone has children with his legal and blessed wife, this child is called “authentic” [“γνήσιον”]. But if someone has a not blessed woman in his house 6 This is also indicated by the fact that at the same location the encyclical letter penalizes the custom of fraternization, too, which like kiambin-marriages posed a threat for cohesion due to the possibilities it provided for inter-religious relationships (Paisi-Apostolopoulou and Apostolopoulos, Μετά την Κατάκτησιν: “Μηδείς τας λεγομενές αδελφοποιίας, ως παρανόμους, ποιείτω· ει δε φωραθείη ποιών ταύτας, ευθυνθήσεται ασυγγνώστως” [“Nobody shall make the so-called fraternizations which are illegal; if he is found making them nevertheless, he will be punished without forgiveness”]. 7 See Nomokanon, Chapter 161 [ΡΞΑ΄], quoted from the edition of Leonidas Stoungas (ed.), Θέμις ή Εξέτασις της Ελληνικής Νομοθεσίας συντασσόμενη παρά διαφόρων νομομαθών, vol. 7, Athens 1856, pp. 165-257 (here p. 199): “Περί παρανόμου γάμου, και του κανόνος αυτού, και περί του έχοντος παλλακίδα” [“About illegal marriage and its punishment, and about concubinage”]. It should be mentioned that the following chapter 162 [ΡΞΒ΄] is devoted to customary fraternization and appropriate prohibitions, something that provides additional evidence for the close connection between these two topics as indicated also in the encyclical of 1477. 46 Ioannis Zelepos and sleeps with her openly, the child is called “natural” [“φυσικόν”]. If again, he sleeps with a woman outside his house, the child he procreates is called “bastard” [respectively “false”, “forged”—”νόθον”]. If a child is born and nobody knows who its father is, not even the father himself, it is called “clandestine” [“σκότιον”].8 In the specific context of Ottoman society, the second status mentioned can be easily identified with children emerging from kiambin-marriages, something that is underlined by the term “unblessed women”, which indicates a relationship not recognized by the Church. Nevertheless, as the adjective “natural” indicates, some degree of legitimacy is acknowledged here, while illegitimacy in the full sense of the word is limited to the third and fourth cases which refer to children born either by concubines (women living in polygamous relationships) or by prostitutes. These provisions in the Codex of Malaxos from about the middle of the sixteenth century can be interpreted as responsive to a social reality that the Orthodox Church obviously could not remove or contain by simple means of prohibition but had to deal with in a pragmatic way. The dissemination of kiambin-marriages among Muslims, Christians, and Jews was noticed from the seventeenth century on also by European observers. The British diplomat Paul Rycaut makes mention of it in his renowned monograph The History of the Present State of the Ottoman Empire, first published in 1686 in London, which is one of the most important contemporary European sources on Ottoman history: “There is also another sort of half marriage among them, which is called Kabin, when a man takes a Wife for a Month or a certain limited time: and an agreement is made for the price before the Cadee or Judg [...] and is the same which they term in Spain Emancibado, or Casado di Media Carta, only the act there is not allowable by the laws as in Turkey”.9 Throughout the seventeenth and the eighteenth centuries but even in the first half of the nineteenth century there are kiambin-marriages documented in virtually every part of Ottoman Southeast Europe: the Danubian Principalities, Serbia, Macedonia, Thrace, 8 Ibid., p. 199, chapter 160 [ΡΞ’]: “Όταν κάμη τινάς παιδία μετά της νομίμου αυτού γυναικός της ευλογητικής αυτό το παιδίον λέγεται γνήσιον. Όταν δε έχει τινάς γυναίκα ανευλόγητον εις το οσπήτη του και κοιμάται μετ’ αυτής φανερώς, εάν κάμη παιδί λέγεται φυσικόν. Όταν δε πάλιν κοιμάται μετά γυναικός έξω του οσπητίου του, αυτό το παιδί όπου να κάμη λέγεται νόθος [...] Όταν ουν πάλιν γεννηθή παιδί και τινάς δεν ηξεύρει ποιός πατέρας το έκαμε, ουδέ αυτός οπού το έσπειρε, λέγεται σκότιον”. 9 Ibid., p. 293. 47 Multi-denominational Interaction in the Ottoman Balkans Albania, Epirus and the Peloponnese, but also in Asia Minor and the Aegean islands.10 Despite the sporadic character of positive case evidence in the text sources, there are slight indications that kiambin-marriages may have occurred more frequently in the Aegean islands than in mainland regions, something that could be ascribed possibly to the relative heterogeneous denominational profile of this region, which was made up not only by Orthodox Christians, Muslims, and Jews, but also by strong communities of Roman Catholics.11 In any case, the growing number of official documents issued by archpriests of the Orthodox Church in the eighteenth century on this matter points to an analogical spread of this phenomenon among Christians in this period, or at least indicates that the Church was increasingly concerned about it. It is significant for the situation that church leaders in their effort to limit kiambin-marriages even turned to the Ottoman authorities for assistance, as did the Patriarch (Archbishop) of Péc in 1739, Ioannikios Karatzas, on the occasion of the appointment of a new Metropolitan for the diocese of Novi Pazar which had to be confirmed by a berat.12 In the second half of the eighteenth century, two consecutive prohibitions of kiambin-marriages were issued by the Patriarchate of Constantinople as a leading instance of the Orthodox Church, one by Parthenios IV in 1761 and another by Samouil I “Chantzeris” in 1772. These prohibitions were followed in 1819 by a third one, issued by Grigorios V (1745-1821), one of the most dynamic personalities on the patriarchal throne in this period.13 This bull is interesting because it not only penalizes 10 See Nikolaos Pantazopoulos, Church and Law in the Balkan Peninsula during the Ottoman Rule, Thessaloniki 1967, p. 96f. with an overview; see also Nikolaos Pantazopoulos, Κεπήνιον: Συμβολή εις την έρευναν του θεσμού του πολιτικού γάμου επί Τουρκοκρατίας, in Επιστημονική Επετηρίδα της Σχολής Νομικών και Οικονομικών Επιστημών του Αριστοτελείου Πανεπιστημίου Θεσσαλονίκης 19/1986, 2, pp. 487-520. 11 Such places were islands like Chios and Naxos; see for case evidence for the former in Pantazopoulos, Church and Law, p. 95f., and for the latter in Georgios Dimitrokallis, Μία περίπτωση γάμου μετά καπηνίου στη Νάξο, in: Επετηρίς Εταιρείας Βυζαντινών Σπουδών, vol. 39-40 (1972-73), pp. 290-294, see also Eleftheria Papagianni, Η νομολογία των εκκλησιαστικών δικαστηρίων της βυζαντινής και μεταβυζαντινής περιόδου σε θέματα περιουσιακού δικαίου, Μέρος ΙΙ Οικογενειακό δίκαιο, Athens 1997, pp. 129-132, with mention of three cases in the diocese of the island of Kos. 12 The text was translated from Ottoman Turkish into Greek and edited by Manouil Gedeon, Επίσημα γράμματα τουρκικά αναφερόμενα εις τα εκκλησιαστικά ημών δίκαια, Constantinople 1910, pp. 18-24. 13 On this person see the political biography by Nikolaos Zacharopoulos, Γρηγόριος Ε΄. Σαφής έκφρασις της Εκκλησιαστικής πολιτικής επί Τουρκοκρατίας, Thessaloniki 1974. 48 Ioannis Zelepos the custom of kiambin-marriages but goes further by prohibiting in general any marriage between Ottoman Orthodox Christians and foreigners, be they of another Christian denomination or simply subjects of another state (something that at least theoretically would have included also Orthodox Russians): Above all, we inform all of you that, apart from the previously issued high order that prohibits the cohabitation of our kinsmen with Franks and Sudetes, another adorable order [in a religious sense, something that indicates sultanic authority] was issued recently to the Imams and Judges [Qadis] about kiambin-marriages, that they must not in any case give such marriages to reâyahs ... Therefore it is necessary for all to act with the most accurate attention and to allow no marital transactions between a kinsman [i.e., Orthodox] and a Heterodox or Sudete, or merely one subjected to another court [state], but an Orthodox has to take an Orthodox and a reâyah the daughter of a genuine reâyah and may nobody dare to contract a nikkah [i.e., kiambin] ....14 The term “Heterodox” of course means the members of western Christian denominations as were Roman Catholics and Protestants, and the prohibition of intermarriage was 14 The text was edited by Anthimos Alexoudis, Metropolitan of Amaseia, Δύο εγκύκλια έγγραφα Γρηγορίου του Ε΄ Πατριάρχου Κωνσταντινουπόλεως, in: Δελτίον Ιστορικής και Εθνολογικής Εταιρείας της Ελλάδος, vol. 4/1892, pp. 268-275 (here 273f.): “Επί πάσι δε τούτοις ειδοποιούμεν υμίν, εκτός του προεκδιδομένου υψηλού ορισμού, του απαγορεύοντος τα συνοικέσια των ομογενών μας μετά των Φράγκων και Σουδίτων εξεδόθη προσφάτως και έτερος προσκυνητός ορισμός εις τους Ιμάμιδες και κριτάς περί καπινίων, να μη δίδωνται κατ’ ουδένα τρόπον εις τους ρεαγιάδες [...] όθεν ανάγκη να ενεργήται παρά πάντων η απαιτουμένη ακριβεστάτη προσοχή, και μήτε γαμικόν συνάλλαγμα ομογενούς να πραγματευθή μεθ’ ετεροδόξου και Σουδήτου, και απλώς εις άλλην αυλήν υποκειμένου, αλλά να λαμβάνη ορθόδοξος ορθόδοξον και ρεαγιάς θυγατέρα γνησίου ρεαγιά, μήτε συνάφεια δια νικιαχίου να τολμηθή υπό τινός ...” (quoted also by Pantazopoulos, Church and Law, p. 99f.). The passage is interesting also in terms of the close cooperation it reveals between the Orthodox Patriarchate and the Ottoman State. It seems that the latter supported the Church in her efforts to limit kiambin-marriages, while the Patriarch in return helped to stabilize Ottoman authority by interdicting contacts between Orthodox reâyahs and foreigners, something that in a period of growing national unrest was of great importance. When the Greek revolt broke out two years later in 1821, Grigorios V actually condemned and excommunicated the insurgents. This act, however, did not save him from being lynched afterwards, thereby becoming (though quite unintentionally) one of the most prominent martyrs of the Greek national rebirth. 49 Multi-denominational Interaction in the Ottoman Balkans most probably directed against those among them who lived intermingled with Orthodox Christians in Venetian territories or in the Ottoman Empire as protégés of European powers and were commonly called “Levantines”.15 The relative frequency of prohibitive provisions issued in that period can be interpreted in a broader context of reform efforts that took place in the Orthodox Church of the Ottoman Empire from about the middle of the eighteenth century, which were manifold and aimed at a general intensification of religiosity among the faithful but also at rationalization of religious practices in everyday life. This leads to the next text example, the Exomologitarion of Nikodimos Hagioreites (1749-1809) that was first published in Venice in 1794. Actually, it is an instruction for confessors as well as for penitents that contains guidelines for both concerning, on the one hand, the proper spiritual preparation for the sacrament of confession, and a detailed list on concrete misbehaviours and their appropriate punishment, on the other. As recent research has shown, this book is based essentially on two texts written in the seventeenth century by the renowned Jesuit author Paolo Segneri (1624-1694) and published in Italian under the titles Il confessore istruito and Il penitente istruito, but it is questionable whether Nikodimos Hagioreites himself was aware of this, because he used a Greek manuscript translation from the first half of the eighteenth century.16 Be that as it may—as a matter of fact, the Exomologitarion turned out to be very successful among its contemporary Orthodox readership in the Ottoman Empire, which perceived it as something totally new. The extraordinary success of this book was not in the least due to its consequent use of colloquial language and is proven by a series reprints following in a short time after the first publication (1799, 1804, 1818) as well as 15 While the term “Frank” was in general use as synonym for a western Western European, “Sudete” (from Romanian “Sudit” Pl. “Sudiți”) means an inhabitant of the Danubian Principalities who according to the treaty of Kucuk Kaynarca 1774 had aquired protege- status of Russia or Austria and enjoyed tax exemptions and legal immunity both from Ottoman as from local hospodar authorities. On the juridical aspects of Orthodox ecclesiastical law regarding mixed marriages in historical perspective since the Middle Ages, see Constantinos G. Pitsakis, “Les mariages mixtes dans la tradition juridique de l’Église grecque: de l’intransigeance canonique aux pratiques modernes”, in: Études balkaniques: Recherches interdisciplinaires sur les monedes héllenique et balkanique, vol. 10 (2003), pp. 107-145. 16 See Vasileios Tsakiris, Die gedruckten griechischen Beichtbücher zur Zeit der Türkenherrschaft: Ihr Entstehungszusammenhang und ihre Quellen, Berlin 2008, pp. 303- 329 and Emmanouil Frangiskos, Το ζήτημα της γλωσσομάθειας του Νικοδήμου Αγιορείτη, in Ερανιστής, vol. 23 (2001), pp. 173-190. 50 Ioannis Zelepos by translations into other languages, e.g., into Turkish. It goes without saying that the Exomologitarion contains detailed regulations about cohabitation and sexual relationships not legalized by the Church. The relevant chapter is titled “How to treat adulterers and prostitutes” and is aimed at the confessor. In the first part the text sets first of all, not very surprisingly, as a precondition for forgiveness and absolution the sincere remorse of the sinner and his promise to abstain from future contacts. But the second part states explicitly that “he has either to abandon those persons with whom he had committed the sin, or to expel them, if he has them in his house”.17 Furthermore, the author puts an additional footnote to the text here, something that documents the great importance he attributed to the topic. There he writes: Be very careful, confessor, not to give formal absolution ... to adulterers if they do not expel previously the prostitute women or the male person out of their house. Even if they promise you to do so, don’t believe them easily, because most of them will break their promise, as experience proves. For you should know, confessor, that there will be often problems and hardships with adulterers because they have the prostitute and children in their houses and they will appeal to your compassion ... but you must not pity them in any case ...”18 It is obvious, that what is really meant here is not adultery and prostitution in the conventional sense of the word, but rather permanent relationships between man and women without legitimation by the Church, which in view of the specific socio- political framework of the time are to be identified at least to a certain extent with kiambin-marriages. So the Exomologitarion provides a further important indication of an intensification of efforts by the Orthodox Church from about the second half of the eighteenth 17 See Exomologitarion (cited from the 1818 edition) p. 112: (“Πώς κανονίζονται οι πόρνοι, μοίχοι και αρσενοκοίται”) “[...] και προ πάντων το, ή να φύγουν από τα πρόσωπα εκείνα, με τα οποία ήμαρτον, ή να τα διώκουν, αν τα έχουν εις το σπήτι τους”. 18 Ibid.: “Πρόσεχε καλώς Πνευματικέ να μη διαβάσης συγχωρητικήν ευχήν [...] αν δεν διώξουν πρώτον την πόρνην, ή το αρσενικόν πρόσωπον από το σπήτι τους. Αλλά και αν σου υποσχεθούν να κάμουν αυτά, μη τους πιστεύης εύκολα· διότι οι περισσότεροι εξ αυτών αθετούν την υπόσχεσίν τους, και σε γελούν, έως οπού να λάβουν την συγχώρησιν, καθώς η δοκιμή δείχνει. Ήξευρε δε και τούτο Πνευματικέ, ότι πολλάκις θέλεις εύρης πολλάς σκληρότητας και δυσκολίας από τους έχοντας πόρνην, ή παιδίον εις το σπήτι τους· επειδή αυτοί πότε μεν, θέλουν σε παρακαλέσουν δακρυρροούντες να τους συγχωρήσης να έχουν τα υποκείμενα ταύτα εις το σπήτι τους· αλλά σύ μη τους σπλαγχνισθής [...]” 51 Multi-denominational Interaction in the Ottoman Balkans century to limit kiambin-marriages, which not only were unacceptable for theological- dogmatic reasons, but also posed probably more than merely potential threat to the coherence of the Orthodox community itself. Soon after, this became relevant also from a more secular point of view in the context of the process of nation-state building, which took place in Ottoman Southeast Europe in the same period, i.e., the first decades of the nineteenth century. Indeed there seems to be indirect text evidence in some of the earliest secular law collections reflecting kiambin-marriages, but this is beyond the scope of this paper.19 The text evidence presented here is of course far from complete and thus can give only a quite fragmentary picture of the topic under examination. It allows, however, at least one important conclusion: kiambin-marriages seem to have existed already from the period of the Ottoman conquest of Southeast Europe quite common among Orthodox Christians, many of whom found it obviously a viable alternative to a marriage blessed by the Church, despite all risk of eternal condemnation. This leads to the question of what made this institution so attractive for them and simultaneously points to the adoption of kiambin-marriages as a prime example for cultural transfer in early modern Ottoman society. Why kiambin-marriages? There is a series of possible reasons to explain that, practical ones not the least. First of all, it may be considered that the kiambin was a means to bypass some legal restrictions on marriage imposed by the Church, for example marriages between cousins, which are—at least theoretically—forbidden until the seventh degree according to ecclesiastical law. Secondly, given that the Orthodox Church allows a 19 See Pantazopoulos, Church and Law, pp. 100-102, who refers to the Codex Callimachi of 1817 for Moldavia, the Codex Karatza of 1818 for Hungaro-Wallachia, the two Principalities which later were to become independent Romania, and the Απάνθισμα Εγκλημάτων of 1823, the first penal code of revolutionary Greece. His evidence, however, is not totally convincing because the articles mentioned pertain to the legitimacy of extramarital children (from polygamous relationships in the case of the Greek penal code), who were not necessarily in the result of a kiambin-marriage. Furthermore, one must consider that the Principalities, owing to their semi-autonomous status, the interference between Islamic and Christian law was quite limited as was the physical coexistence of Christian and Muslim populations. 52 Ioannis Zelepos total of no more than three successive marriages and divorces, a kiambin may have been used in some cases to legitimate marriages beyond this limit. In this context it should also be considered that by a kiambin-marriage, it was possible to legitimate even polygamous relationships. Furthermore, the time-limit of kiambin-marriages and the fact that it was relatively easy to divorce may have been of some appeal for the involved partners. Beside this, a major aspect to be taken into account here is the fact that a kiambin- marriage also provided the possibility to circumvent the otherwise obligatory payment of a dowry by the bride’s family, a feature of Christian customary law, which especially from the eighteenth century seems to have developed into a serious social burden in the Orthodox Millet as is documented by several contemporaries, among them the aforementioned Patriarch of Constantinople, Samouil I, who in 1767 even issued a special exhortation on this topic.20 Finally, an important but not the least significant implication of kiambin was the opportunity it provided for marriages between members of different religions. In this respect, it had a social function comparable with the traditional custom of fraternization in the Balkans (see n. 7). Its success as a legal institution was due to the fact that it corresponded to a social and cultural reality that seemingly was much less characterized by the clear-cut separation of religious and ethnic groups as later national historiography tends to suggest. 20 See Giorgos Valetas, Λόγοι πατριωτικοί απλοσύνθετοι για την σκλαβιά της γυναίκας και για τον χαλασμό του γένους + στηλιτευτικοί της προίκας και του εμπορικού γάμου, Κηρυγμένοι στα 1767 από τον πατριάρχη Σαμουήλ Χαντζερή, Athens 1948. 53 Multi-denominational Interaction in the Ottoman Balkans 54 Katja Šmid A Sephardic Rabbi’s View of his Bosnian Neighbors and Common Ottoman Culture as Reflected in his Writings Katja Šmid University of Salamanca (CCHS-CSIC) Bosnian Rabbi Elicéźer Šem Ṭov Papo (Sarajevo, ? – Jerusalem, 1898) is the author of four compendia of Jewish religious law and moral teachings in Judeo-Spanish, and three similar, shorter religious works in Hebrew.1 All his books were printed in Hebrew characters and were published in Belgrade, Sarajevo, Izmir, and Jerusalem between 1862 and 1892.2 Papo’s literary work is an important source for expanding our knowledge of Sephardic religious culture. Besides its rabbinic content, his writings provide generous material about the private and public lives and the folklore and customs of traditional Sarajevan Sephardic Jews in particular, and Bosnian Jewish communities in general, during the second half of the nineteenth century, a period in which Ottoman * This article has been written the research project sponsored by Plan Nacional I+D+I: “Sefarad siglo XXI (2009-2011): Edictión y estudio filológico de textos sefardies” (SGPI, MICINN FF2009-10672). I would like to thank Martha Peach, David Markovits, and Javier Castaño for their help and relevant remarks. 1 Elicéźer Šem Ṭov Papo, Séfer Ḥésed veemet (Belgrade, 1865); Séfer Ape źutre (Sarajevo, 1875); and Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer (Jerusalem, 1892). 2 See, for example, Katja Šmid, “Gaćetero vienés vs. rabino saraylí: el inicio de una polémica”, in Paloma Díaz-Mas and María Sánchez Pérez (eds.), Los sefardíes ante los retos del mundo contemporáneo. Identidad y mentalidades, CSIC, Madrid 2010, pp. 149- 158; and “Usos médicos y mágicos de los sefardíes de la Bosnia otomana a mediados del siglo xix según las obras halájicas de Elicéźer Papo”, in Yolanda Moreno Koch and Ricardo Izquierdo Benito (eds.), De cuerpos y almas en el judaísmo hispanomedieval: entre la ciencia médica y la magia sanadora, Ediciones de la Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha, Cuenca 2011, pp. 221-253. 55 A Sephardic Rabbi’s View of his Bosnian Neighbors Bosnian society had already begun to experience the process of modernization and westernization.3 In this article, I wish to examine how this Sephardic rabbi sees his Bosnian neighbors and their otherness, and also, how and to what extent these neighbors and their culture influence his rabbinic writings and his way of life. 1. Papo’s Neighbors All of Papo’s work is written in Judeo-Spanish in Hebrew characters for a Sephardic reading public. Papo’s writings are not exclusively addressed to rabbinic readers; the main purpose of his practical guides written in Ladino was to instruct common Sephardim living in Bosnia (his ethnic-religious community)4 on how to properly observe Jewish commandments and custom and to celebrate life-cycle ceremonies while living in the Diaspora. 1.1. The Figure of the “Impersonal” Gentile The figure of the Gentile is present in different genres of rabbinic literature in Hebrew as well as in Judeo-Spanish: halakhic works (Heb., halaxá ‘Jewish law’),5 moral literature (Heb., mussar), narratives (Heb., haggada ‘legends, stories’), practical guides for religious observance, etc. There are many references to non-Jews in all of Papo’s compendia of Jewish law and moral teachings written in Judeo-Spanish: Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Óraḥ ḥayyim (Belgrade, 1862 and Izmir, 1877), a general compilation of laws concerning festivals, 3 See, for example, David M. Bunis, “Elements of Hebrew and Balkan Origin in the Terminology of Foodways in R. Eliezer ben Šem Tov Papo’s Sefer Dameseq Eliezer: Judezmo Rabbinical Literature as a Linguistic and Folkloristic Resource. Part One” [in Hebrew], Jerusalem Studies in Jewish Folklore 5/6 (1984), pp. 151-195. 4 See, for example, Yakir Eventov, A History of Yugoslav Jews from Ancient Times to the End of the 19th Century [in Hebrew], Davar, Tel Aviv 1971, pp. 416-413 [A 21-A 24]; Avram Pinto, Jevreji Sarajeva i Bosne i Hercegovine, Veselin Masleša, Sarajevo 1987; and Zvi Loker, “Los sefarditas entre los eslavos del Sur”, in Henry Méchoulan (dir.), Los judíos de España: Historia de una diáspora, 1492-1992, Trotta, Madrid 1993, pp. 268-270. 5 Transliteration of Judeo-Spanish and Hebrew texts is based on the system established by Iacob M. Hassán, “Transcripción normalizada de textos judeoespañoles”, Estudios Sefardíes 1 (1978), pp. 147-150. 56 Katja Šmid especially Passover (Heb., Pésaḥ);6 Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Yoré decá (Belgrade, 1865), a collection of mourning laws and customs (Heb., avelut);7 Séfer Méšeq betí (Sarajevo, 1872-74), compendium of laws and customs for the observance of Sabbath (Heb., šabbat);8 and Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Yoré decá (Jerusalem, 1884), a compilation of laws and moral teachings regarding Jewish women.9 The most frequent and general denomination for Gentiles in Papo’s Sephardic compendia is goy, pl. goyyim for a man and goyá, pl. goyyot for a woman, Hebrew words for Gentiles (Heb., goy ‘nation, people’). With this term, Rabbi Papo normally refers to “impersonal” Gentiles who appear in passages containing Jewish laws and regulations that may concern them. For example, Gentiles can be hired to carry out certain types of work and activities prohibited to Jews during their festivals and, therefore, it is recommended for Jews and Gentiles to be familiar with rules and laws concerning their interaction. Bunis10 has already noted the different names Papo uses for Gentiles in his first work Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Óraḥ ḥayyim (Belgrade, 1862 and Izmir, 1877), which has been my point of departure for this article. In this compendium of general commandments and regulations centered on the Jewish festivals, Gentiles appear as partners with Jews in businesses, involved in trade, buying and selling (fol. 131a), renting a store or a mill (fol. 132a), lending or renting animals, dishes, and agricultural or transportation tools (fols. 142b-145a), etc. 6 See, for example, Bunis, “Elements” (note 3), pp. 151-195; Iacob M. Hassán, “La prosa rabínica”, in Elena Romero (ed.), Iacob M. Hassán and Ricardo Izquierdo Benito (coords.), Sefardíes: Literatura y lengua de una nación dispersa, XV Curso de Cultura Hispanojudía y Sefardí de la Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha, Ediciones de la Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha, Cuenca 2008, pp. 267-268, 270-272, 291-292; and Katja Šmid, “Los macasiyot de Daméseq Eliézer”, El Prezente 4 (2010), pp. 123-143. 7 See, for example, Bunis, “Elements” (note 3), p. 156; and Katja Šmid, El Séfer Méšec betí, de Eliézer Papo: Ritos y costumbres sabáticas de los sefardíes de Bosnia, CSIC, Madrid (2012), pp. 49-50. 8 See, for example, Šmid, El Séfer (note 7). 9 See, for example, Šmid, “Leyes de pureza ritual en judeoespañol: entre la normativa rabínica y las prácticas de las mujeres”, Sefarad 72 (2012), pp. 389-429. 10 Bunis, “Elements” (note 3), p. 160. 57 A Sephardic Rabbi’s View of his Bosnian Neighbors During Passover, the consumption, keeping, and owning of ḥameṣ11 is forbidden, which requires a meticulous cleaning before the beginning of the festival.12 Papo devoted a small section to the laws of grinding the flour for Passover13 (Dinim de moler el trigo, fols. 132a-b) in a Gentile’s mill; in it he points out some of the inconveniences that Jews and Gentiles may have in this endeavor. In the following excerpt he gives instructions on the cleaning of Gentile’s mill and informs us of his custom of inspecting the flour ground for his use. Pésaḥ.– Los ĵidiós que toman molinos Passover.– Jews using Gentile’s mills de el goy y muelen los trigos de Pésaḥ for grinding wheat for Passover [...] [...] se acaviden muy bien de alinpiyar should take care to clean and scrape y_de araspar siendo de el año entero [them] because there is layer upon layer hay cat sobre cat de masa, y el emet es of scraps [left over] from the whole year, que_es muy fuerte de araspar siendo hay and the truth is that it is very difficult to muy muncha masa dura como la piedra scrape because there are a lot of scraps y tanbién que hay munchos buracos [...] as hard as a stone and there are also a que non es posible de quitar la masa lot of holes [...] which make [it almost] kašer [...]; siendo minhaguí es el rob impossible to produce kosher flour [...]; de los años de ir al molino a_ver cómo my custom is to go, most years, to the muelen mi trigo y veyo con mis oj̀os mill to see how they are grinding my que está muy fuerte por raźón que los wheat with my own eyes, and I realize mištadelim son caniyim, y_si media hora that it is very difficult because the están araspando les peśa siendo está el persons in charge are poor, and when molino sin moler harina y tienen daño they do scrape for half an hour they [...].14 regret it because [while they scrape] the mill is not grinding flour and [they] suffer a loss [...]. 11 ‘Leavening’ occurs with one of five types of grains (wheat, barley, rye, spelt, and oats) combined with water and left to stand for more than eighteen minutes. 12 The Torah commandments regarding this question are the following: (a) One has to remove all ḥameṣ from his home, including things made with ḥameṣ, before the first day of Passover (Exodus 12:15). It may be simply used up, thrown out, destroyed by burning, or given or sold to non-Jews; (b) one has to refrain from eating ḥameṣ or mixtures containing ḥameṣ during Passover (Exodus 13:3, and 12:20, Deuteronomy 16:3); and (c) one should not possess ḥameṣ in his domain during Passover (Exodus 12:19, Deuteronomy 16:4). 13 Maŝá, unleavened bread eaten during Passover, has to be made from special flour watched from the moment of harvest to the moment of packing to make sure it has not come into contact with any moisture. 14 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Óraḥ ḥayyim (Belgrade, 1862), fol. 132a. 58 Katja Šmid Even if the workers in the Gentile’s mill are Jewish, Papo refers to them as poor and young people who are not familiar with all the laws concerning the Passover holidays, and, therefore, in his pious opinion, there should be a practicing rabbi or scholar assigned to each mill to examine their work. Pésaḥ.– Ma tov umá na‘ím si en cada Passover.– How good and pleasant [it quehilá santa precurarán de amerinar would be] if every holy congregation en cada molino un talmid ḥaxam que would try to assign to every mill a scholar mire muy bien las harinas siendo los to supervise the flour [production] mištadelim non son bar haxí y non saben because the persons in charge are los dinim y las peśgadiyas que hay en not qualified and [since] they do not isur de ḥameṣ [...]. know [religious] law and the severity [in transgressing] the prohibitions of leavened food [...]. Pésaḥ.– Se acaviden muy bien los Passover.– Persons in charge should take mištadelim de non haćer de_las harinas care not to make bread rolls to be eaten de Pésaḥ bogachas para comer en el in the mill from flour for Passover since molino por raźón que ditas harinas ya les this flour has already been sanctified for puśo la quedušá de el ḥag haqadoš: se the holy festival and it would result in topa que quitan de qodeš para ḥol [...].15 using the holy for profane [purposes] [...]. In Óraḥ ḥayyim, contacts between Jews and Gentiles take place, above all, before, during and after the Passover holiday (fols. 131a-153a). Especially remarkable is a chapter on laws about selling ḥameŝ to Gentiles (Diné mexirat haḥameṣ legoy, fols. 151a-153a), full of miscellaneous instructions for Jews selling and Gentiles buying ḥameṣ, leavened food forbidden to be owned, and definitely eaten, by Jews during Passover (cf. Ex. 12:17-20). 15 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Óraḥ ḥayyim (Belgrade, 1862), fols. 132a-b. 59 A Sephardic Rabbi’s View of his Bosnian Neighbors Pésaḥ.– [...] cuando vende el ḥameṣ Passover.– [...] when he sells the al goy se acavide que non meta el otro leavened goods16 to the Gentile he (ḥotam) sello en la camareta o en la should be careful not to put another seal caǰa de el ḥameṣ para que non pueda el in the room or in the box with leavened goy abrir el ḥameṣ [...] que non es esto goods so that the Gentile is not able to mexirá salvo engaño. open the leavened goods [...] since this is not considered a sale but a deception. Y en esto hay munchos que non se And there are a lot of people who do not acavidan que_le venden la caǰa de ḥameṣ take care and sell the box with leavened al goy o la gruta y semej̀ante, y haćen 2 goods or the store and similar to the ceraderos y_la una llave le dan al goy Gentile, and put two locks and give y_la otra se guadran ellos o le trocan only one of the keys to the Gentile and y_le dan otra llave falsa para que non keep the other one or they change [the pueda abrir el goy: que ansí que sepan si key] and give the Gentile the false key hiźo algún engaño de estos non se conta so that he cannot open it: they should mexirá kelal y el ḥameṣ non se_puede know that if they carried out any of these aprovechar de él después de Pésaḥ [...]. deceptions it is not considered a sale at all and they cannot make use of these leavened goods after Passover. [...] cuando vende el ḥameṣ al goy se [...] when he sells the leavened goods to acavide a_dećirle: “De_cierto yo te the Gentile he should take care to say: vendo a_ti este ḥameṣ”; y non haga “I hereby sell to you these leavened como los bacalé batim a_dećirle al goy: goods”; and not like householders who “De_cierto yo te vendo a_ti esta llave”, say to the Gentile: “I hereby sell to you que_si le_diće ansí que sepan que this key”, because if saying so, you non es mexirá kelal uxlal y es asur de should know that it is not considered a aprovecharse de este ḥameṣ después de sale at all and it is forbidden to make use Pésaḥ [...]. of these leavened goods after Passover [...]. [...] si el goy que mercó el ḥameṣ de el [...] if the Gentile who bought the ĵidió después de Pésaḥ non se lo quere leavened goods from the Jew does not tornar atrás al ĵidió es asur al ĵidió de want to return them to the Jew after llevarlo al goy a_la ĵusticia y demandar Passover, it is forbidden for the Jew to de el goy el ḥameṣ [...]. bring the Gentile to justice and claim the leavened goods from him [...]. 16 This term refers, in general, to leavened food, drinks and other provisions, as well as to other vessels, kitchens utensils and tools which are not kosher for Passover. 17 In the original aljamiado text ‫ סו‬su is repeated. 60 Katja Šmid [...] un ḥameṣ que Yisrael y el goy son [...] the leavened goods possessed by ḥaverim en él y_se espartieron después a Jew and a Gentile in partnership, if de Pésaḥ afilú que el Yisrael non vendió they split up after Passover, even if the su parte al goy antes de Pésaḥ el ḥameṣ Jew did not sell his part of the leavened que le_toca al Yisrael por su17 parte goods before Passover, after Passover después de Pésaḥ es mutar [...]. [these leavened goods] are permitted [...]. [...] es asur de vender sus behemot al goy [...] it is forbidden to sell his cattle to the antes de Pésaḥ en tal que les dé a_comer Gentile before Passover so that they be el goy ḥameṣ en Pésaḥ [...]. fed by the Gentile with leavened food during Passover [...]. [...] es asur al ĵidió de mercarle ḥameṣ [...] it is forbidden for the Jew to buy para el goy en Pésaḥ afilú con las pr’ leavened food for the Gentile during [parás ‘coins, money’] de el goy. Y Passover, even with the Gentile’s [own] ansí es asur al ĵidió de guśmer en el pan money. And it is also forbidden for the ḥameṣ en Pésaḥ [...]. Jew to smell the leavened bread during Passover [...]. [...] goy que entró en la caśa en Pésaḥ [...] a Gentile who enters the house con su ḥameṣ en su mano non tiene with leavened food in his hand during ḥiyyuv de quitarlo al goy de caśa y afilú Passover, there is no obligation to ask que el ĵidió vee el ḥameṣ en su mano non him to leave the house, and even when quere dećir nada.18 the Jew sees leavened food in the Gentile’s hand, it is of no importance. Among other laws and regulations concerning Gentiles and their everyday contact with Jews during Jewish festivals, when certain kinds of work and activities are forbidden to Jews but are permitted to be performed by Gentiles on their behalf, we find the following example of a Gentile who comes to a Jewish home and gives flowers as a gift to the lady of the house. In this excerpt we find rules concerning the acceptance of a Gentile’s flowers during festival and see a Gentile also as a kind neighbor and friend. 18 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Óraḥ ḥayyim (Belgrade, 1862), fols. 151b-152b. 61 A Sephardic Rabbi’s View of his Bosnian Neighbors Yom ṭov.– Goy que truǰo pešquéš rośas Holiday.– If a Gentile brought flowers en diya primero de mo‘ed y_la se’ bacalat as a gift on the first day of the holiday habáyit siendo non supo [...] que son and the housewife not being aware [...] mucŝé19 las tomó de el goy y_las mezcló that they may not be touched, accepted con resto de_las rośas que habiya en el them from the Gentile and mixed them ĵaro que las mercó el se’ bácal habáyit de with other flowers which were already c érev yom ṭov, y_las rośas de el goy son in the vase, bought by the householder más pocas, puede goler en ditas rośas the day before the holiday, the Gentile’s con quitar unas cuantas rośas de el ĵaro.20 flowers being fewer, you can smell these flowers after removing some from the vase. As we may see, the term goy characterizes good as well as bad Gentiles, and it seems that in this context it does not have a pejorative meaning but is rather used as descriptive or technical term for non-Jews in general. Nevertheless, in Papo’s second book, a compilation of laws and customs regarding death and mourning, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Yoré decá (Belgrade, 1865), Gentiles are seen as dangerous people, who, for example, have been known to hang Jews on gallows: Una presona que [...] los goyyim A person [...], whose relative was hung enforcaron a_su qarov en otra civdad by Gentiles in another town [...], was [...] supo que aínda está en la forca [...];21 informed that he was still hanging from the gallows [...];22 or to severely beat them as they are wont to do: Si se mató a_sí miśmo porque se espantó If he committed suicide because he de los goyyim que non le den penas muy was afraid the Gentiles would beat him fuertes como uśan los goyyim [...].23 severely as is their custom [...]. 19 Forbidden to be touched or to be carried on the Sabbath. 20 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Óraḥ ḥayyim (Belgrade, 1862), fol. 85a. 21 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Yoré decá (Belgrade, 1865), fol. 7a. 22 In this example, the word Gentile refers to Muslims, who were the only ones having the power to apply capital punishment in the Ottoman Bosnia. 23 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Yoré decá (Belgrade, 1865), fol. 23b. 62 Katja Šmid In some places, Gentiles steal tombstones from emptied out Jewish graves (because the corpses were taken to Israel), erase the names and sell them again, to other Jews, to make money. Lugares que uśan a poner sobre los In places where they usually place upon muertos maṣevot de piedras grandes y graves tombstones made out of big stones escriben el nombre kanahug, y cuando and write the names as is the custom, after sacan a el muerto para subirlo a Éreṣ they take out the corpses to take them to Yisrael, vienen los goyyim y se aroban the Land of Israel, Gentiles come and las piedras y enbaran los nombres y steal the stones, erase the names, and sell las venden otra veź a_los ĵidiós para them again to Jews as tombstones: since maṣevot: siendo que los patrones de las the owners of the tombstones do not maṣevot non tienen ningún provecho, benefit [from them], Jews are permitted pueden los ĵidiós mercar ditas maṣevot.24 to buy these tombstones. In this book there are other references to “impersonal” Gentiles who in certain circumstances are permitted to bury Jews (fol. 47a), as well as to dead Gentiles whom, in an emergency, a Jew likewise is permitted to bury (fol. 41b). The figure of the non-Jew is especially emphasized in Papo’s third work, the compendium of Sabbatical commandments and laws Séfer Méšeq betí (Sarajevo, 1872-74), where he plays the important role of the so called goy šel šabbat, an individual who during the day of rest performs acts forbidden to Jews.25 A Gentile servant maid in Méšeq betí helps to heat a Jewish house and warm the food (escarbar el horno, pp. 10, 49; haćer lunbre, pp. 11, 19, 49, 92), lights candles to illuminate the house (encender candela, pp. 21-24, 189, 196), helps with animals and cattle (p. 24), reads a letter for the Jewish landlord (p. 13), sends a telegram for him (p. 146), winds his watch (p. 161), makes coffee for him when he has a headache (p. 283), and performs other household duties for him (p. 13). It seems that in Sarajevo there was a custom that Gentiles would bring fresh water from natural fountains to Jews on Saturday, which is criticized by Papo (pp. 21, 78).26 24 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Yoré decá (Belgrade, 1865), fol. 58b. 25 See Jacob Katz, The Sabbath Gentile: The Socio-Economic and Halakhic Background to the Employment of Gentiles on Jewish Sabbaths and Festivals [in Hebrew], The Zalman Shazar Center / The Historical Society of Israel, Jerusalem 1938. 26 According to Jewish law, Jews are not forbidden only to work on Shabbath, but also to have their work done by Gentiles. Consequently, they may not explicitly ask a non-Jew to 63 A Sephardic Rabbi’s View of his Bosnian Neighbors Especially noteworthy for contacts between Jews and Gentiles during the day of delight is the chapter explaining the concept of amirá legoy (Dinim qué cośa es mutar de dećirle al goy en šabbat y qué cośa es asur, pp. 19-25),27 where we can read regulations on what Jews are permitted to say to Gentiles in relation to warming of foods, lighting the house, healing, or helping with animals or with merchandise.28 In his fourth and last book, written in Ladino, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Yoré decá (Jerusalem, 1884), a collection of laws and moral teachings addressed to Jewish women, the author, among other diverse topics, analyzes circumstances, under which trade and exchange of merchandise between Jews and Gentiles is halakhically permitted. We read a chapter on use of Gentiles’ oven (Dinim en qué ofen es mutar de coćer pan en el horno del goy, fols. 6b-7a); as well as several chapters dealing with–– because of Gentiles’ intervention––permitted or forbidden (a) food: bread (fols. 6b- 8a, 42a, 52b), milk (fols. 8a, 9a, 11b, 13a, 15a-b), cheese (fols. 8a, 11b, 15a), meat (fols. 7b-8a, 12a, 16b, 22a), fish (fols. 8a-b, 13b), honey (fols. 8a, 17a-b, 51a), etc.; (b) beverages: water (fols. 7a, 8a 17a-b, 52b), wine (fols. 9b, 13a, 15a, 16b-18b, 40a), raquí29 (fol. 17b), boźa30 (fol. 8a), salep31 (fols. 8a, 51a), etc.; and (c) other goods such as candles (fols. 9b, 16a), utensils, vessels and tools (fols. 8a, 12a, 21b-22a, 51a), etc. In these passages Gentiles are depicted as partners and neighbors who actively participate in the public sphere of Jewish everyday life, and yet, we also know of Gentile neighbors participating in some of the duties in Jewish homes, for example, cutting nails (fol. 34a), helping to heal (fols. 8a,15a) and others. perform a job prohibited by Jewish law on the Sabbath. A Jew, however, may benefit from work performed by a non-Jew if the non-Jew performs this work for his own sake. In case of a real need, especially when there was no way to execute the work before Shabbat, as for example, in the case of heating the house during the winter, lighting the fire on Sabbath day itself by a Gentile was tolerated by Jewish law, but even then without direct instruction. As far as jobs that can be executed before Sabbath, such as bringing the water from a fountain (p. 21), Papo suggests that these are to be executed before Sabbath (p. 78). 27 ‘Talking to a non-Jew’, or, according to Papo’s title of this chapter, Things that are permitted to talk about with a non-Jew on the Sabbath and things that are forbidden [in order to instruct him or ask him to do forbidden Sabbath labors]. 28 For more allusions to Gentiles in this work, see Šmid, El Séfer (note 7), p. 87; and “La casa sefardí según el Méšeq betí”, in Hilary Pomeroy / Christopher J. Pountain / Elena Romero (eds.), Selected papers from the Fifteenth British Conference on Judeo-Spanish Studies (29-31 July 2008), pp. 261-277. 29 ‘Firewater’, also known as ‘arak’. 64 Katja Šmid 1.2. Bosnian Gentiles: Papo‘s Real Neighbors Besides the “impersonal” Gentiles, who appear in Papo’s works, the author also refers to more specific Gentiles, his real neighbors. Usually they emerge in passages in which the rabbi puts complex rabbinic rules into practice, giving his readers examples, mostly from Bosnian daily life, and commenting on different permitted or forbidden religious practices. We read Papo’s anecdote from Sabbath, 18 March 1871. After heavy snowfall in Sarajevo, Gentiles helped him clean the roof of his house, which had caved in under the weight of the snow, depicting a moment in which Gentiles help Jews in that town. Es mutar de llamar goyyim para que It is permitted to call Gentiles to remove saquen la nieve de los tej̀ados en snow from the roofs on the Sabbath šabbat, siendo, si se_derocaron, hay because, if they were to cave in, great daño grande y tanbién que puede venir damage would take place and also there sekanat nefašot, bar minán. could be danger of life, God forbid. Asegún aconteció po cirenu Saray y‘E”a As happened here in our town Sarajevo, š” 631 en meś de Ṭevet32 en noche de may the Most High establish it, amen, šabbat se derocaron cuantos tej̀ados; y in the year 631, in the month of Ṭevet, ansí me aconteció a_mí en este propio on a Friday night several roofs caved año: el 25 Adar33 hiźo nieve muy grande in; and the same thing happened to me en día de šabbat y me se derocó el tej̀ado that year, on 25 Adar, there was a heavy de caśa y la pared de la coćina, y lugo snowfall on Sabbath and the roof of my llamí goyyim que saquen la nieve, house and the kitchen wall caved in, so siendo aparte del daño podía venir y I immediately called Gentiles to remove sekanat nefašot.34 the snow because besides the damage there could be danger of life. Sometimes, Papo also describes Gentiles belonging to different ethno-religious communities. In the following example, he refers to Muslim neighbors, who invite 30 A popular beverage, made from fermented corn or wheat. It has a thick consistency, a low alcohol content, and has a slightly acidic sweet flavor. 31 A sweet beverage, made with hot milk or water and salep flour. 32 The month of Ṭevet (5)631 [1870-1871]: in 1870 this month started on Sunday, 25 December 1870, and ended on Monday, 22 January 1871. 33 25 Adar (5)631 corresponds to Saturday, 18 March 1871. 34 Papo, Séfer Méšeq betí (Sarajevo, 1872-1874), pp. 150-151. 65 A Sephardic Rabbi’s View of his Bosnian Neighbors their Jewish friends (los amigos ĵidiós) to festivities they celebrate, in this case, weddings and circumcisions. As we have seen in the previous examples, Papo uses the word goy for Gentiles, not naming them specifically, but the context of a Gentile’s banquet is understood: El minhag que uśan po cirenu que The custom here in our town is that cuando tiene algún goy ḥatuná o sunet when a Gentile celebrates a wedding or que uśan a_conṿidar a_los amigos ĵidiós a circumcision and invites his Jewish y el goy les da a comer miel y manteca, friends and the Gentile gives them to caymac y semej̀ante, lo mej̀or es de non eat honey, butter,37 cream cheese and the ir kelal uxlal [...]; enpero si ya fueron, like, it is best not to go at all [...]; but if bevaday que lo mej̀or es que non digan you do go, certainly it is best not to say beraxá con źimún35 siendo el goy bácal the grace after meals in a quorum, being hasécudá.36 that the host is a Gentile. Another example of the word goyyim referring unquestionably to Muslim neighbors is found in the next quotation in relation to the Festival of Sacrifice (Kurḅán Baryam).38 Goyim que tienen Kurḅán Baryam Gentiles who celebrate the Festival of que degollan carneros non puede el Sacrifice in which they slaughter lambs, ĵidió mercar carneros y venderlos a_ Jews are not allowed to buy lambs los goyyim para que los degollen por and sell them to Gentiles for this ritual qorbán.39 slaughter. Papo’s explanation is important in order to prevent Jews from indirectly participating in Islamic sacrificial offering. 35 The formal invitation to say Grace after Meals, when more than three men took part in the meal. 36 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Óraḥ ḥayyim (Belgrade, 1862), fol. 179a. 37 It could also be understood as ‘fat’ or ‘lard’. 38 Feast of Sacrifice, also known as Eid al-Adha or Greater Eid, is an important religious holiday celebrated by Muslims to commemorate the willingness of Abraham (Ibrahim) to sacrifice his son Ishmael (Isma‘il) as an act of obedience to God, stopped by God when He provided him a sheep to sacrifice instead. During this celebration, Muslims remember Abraham’s trials by slaughtering an animal such as a sheep, camel, or goat. 39 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Yoré decá (Jerusalem, 1884), fol. 40b. 66 Katja Šmid Talking about Sephardic women and their dress, Papo praises the chastity and modesty of Muslim women, always covering themselves in public, example to be followed by his Jewish female reading public.40 Here again, the author uses the neutral word goyot (‘Gentiles’). ¡Guay de mośotros porque non Woe unto us that we do not learn from enṿeźamos41 de las goyyot como van por Gentile women who cover their faces las calles con sus caras tapadas lo_que when they walk on the streets, Jewish caliya que hićieran las ĵudias que fueran women should do likewise, be like “the “kannašim hamiṣriyot, hacibriyot”,42 Egyptians, the Jewish”, who, in view haćen bacav”h a_la revéś, que ellas of our many sins, do the opposite, they van bien tapadas y las ĵudiyas bien walk well covered and the Jewish ones destapadas.43 well uncovered. On the other hand, we have examples of Papo using the Hebrew word miṣriyá, miṣriyot (Heb., lit. ‘Egyptian[s]’) to refer to Muslim female servants or neighbors.44 It is possible that this denomination has a negative connotation, but from the analyzed texts it is not clear to what extent. It seems that it was a common practice for Jewish women to give illicit food and other goods to Muslim women. 40 Katja Šmid, “Normas religiosas para mujeres sefardíes: Yoré decá de Elicéźer Papo (siglo xix)”, Ladinar 7 (forthcoming). 41 Written ‫ אינביזאמו‬enṿeźamo. 42 Ex. 1:19. 43 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Yoré decá (Jerusalem, 1884), fol. 2a. 44 Also Laura Papo in her essay La mužer sefardi de Bosna (Sarajevo, 1932), p. 51, refers to Gentile servants: “En enverano se enserava todo en fornajas, en envierno venia la vieža zingana ‘Fatija’ para ensender las sobas (estufas). Alas madrugas venia la ‘Fata’ todos dainda en la kama ea se okupava de la lumbre”. She is apparently speaking of a Gypsy (or Muslim?) servant, using two versions (Fatija, Fata) of a typical Bosnian Muslim name, Fatima. 67 A Sephardic Rabbi’s View of his Bosnian Neighbors Un pan que se amasó con estas aguas45 es Bread that was kneaded with this water mutar de detenerlo en caśa unos cuantos is permitted to be kept in the house for días para dárselo a_la goyá a_poco some days to be given to the Gentile a_poco; y ansí muestro minhag que_la women little by little; and our custom muj̀er que amasó pan con ditas aguas is that women that have kneaded bread lo troca con las većinas y las većinas lo with this water exchange it with their guadran para šabbat para las miṣriyot neighbors and the neighbors save it until que hínchen agua y que encienden la Sabbath for the Egyptian women who soḅá kayaduca.46 supply water and make fire, as is known. [...] ḥameṣ que se_va aprovechar de él [...] for leavened food that will be used después de Pésaḥ como dećir confites after Passover, for example, candies or o modos de dulces ḥameṣim que los other leavened sweets, that are sold to vende al goy cale acavidarse en estos the Gentile, you should respect the laws dinim que diǰimos, enpero los cedazos we mentioned, but in the case of sieves y sacos que es minhag de dárselos a_la and sacks with which the custom is to miṣriyá y semej̀ante a_la hora non se give them to the Egyptian woman and haće demenester que_se lo_dé bemataná similar, there is no need to give them as guemurá o mexirá [...].47 a gift or to sell them [...].48 This term is frequently used in Séfer Méšeq betí, a compendium for Sabbatical observance (pp. 10, 11, 14, 19, 21, 92, 93, 196). In many of these allusions the term miṣriyá appears as a synonym for goyá and could therefore be interpreted as a technical term for Muslim servant, being neutral and not necessarily pejorative. 45 Water which was in the house of the dead person at the moment of his death (las aguas que eran en la caśa de el muerto en la hora de su petirá). 46 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Yoré decá (Belgrade, 1865), fol. 57a. 47 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Óraḥ ḥayyim (Belgrade, 1862), fol. 152a. 68 Katja Šmid Uvifraṭ cuando hay bodas o fiestas y se And especially on weddings or les amata el horno, llaman al goy o a_la celebrations when the fire goes out and miṣriyá que escarbe el horno o que echen they call the Gentile or the Egyptian lunbre para callentar la comida, que woman to stoke the fire or to place logs to sepan que haćen isur gamur [...]. Y cada warm the food, they should know that it is uno es obligado por acavidar a_la ĝente absolutely forbidden [...]. And everybody de su caśa dićiendo: “Cuando se amatará has the obligation to warn the persons in el horno o la hornalla, más quero comer his house saying: “If the fire or the oven la comida yelada y non que eśṿibléš goes out I prefer to eat cold food than the el šabbat, ḥ”v, que llaméš al goy o a la Sabbath be profaned, God preserve us, miṣriyá que haga lunbre o que escarbe la by calling the Gentile or the Egyptian lunbre en šabbat”.49 woman to make fire or light on Sabbath”. And likewise, when he gives to the Y ansí, si le da al goy o a_la miṣriyá Gentile or to the Egyptian woman clothes chamašir que le lave ĵunto a šabbat y to be washed close to the [beginning of] le_diće: “Mira que lo tengo demenester Sabbath saying to them: “Look I need lugo en moṣaé šabbat”, es asur, que es it immediately after Sabbath”, this is como si le diǰera claro que lo lave en forbidden because it is like saying clearly šabbat.50 that they should wash the clothes on Sabbath. When Papo wants to specify that he is talking about male Muslim neighbors, he employs the word yišmacel, yišmecelim (Heb., ‘Ismael’, ‘Ishmaelite, Turk, Muslim’). Raquí de los goyyim que sacan de vino Firewater that Gentiles produce from es asur como el vino [...]. wine is forbidden like [their] wine is. Vino de los yišmecelim afi’ que non Wine of Ishmaelites, even though they sierven ca”ź51 [cavodá źará ‘idolatry’] es are not idol worshipers, is forbidden to asur de beberlo [...]. Y si tocaron en el drink [...]. And if they touch our wine it vino muestro tanbién es asur de beberlo.52 is also forbidden to drink it. 48 As already indicated, in these examples Papo uses the word miṣriyá, miṣriyot for Muslim women. The same word might also refer to Gypsy women, as these are called in Bosnia Jedžupke (‘Egyptians’) or Firaunke (‘[women] Pharaohs’). 49 Papo, Séfer Méšeq betí (Sarajevo, 1872-1874), pp. 10-11. 50 Papo, Séfer Méšeq betí (Sarajevo, 1872-1874), pp. 13-14. 51 Written ‫ ז"ס‬s”ź. 52 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Yoré decá (Jerusalem, 1884), fol. 17b. 69 A Sephardic Rabbi’s View of his Bosnian Neighbors Papo mentions characteristics that are common to Jewish and Muslim law, such as the precept of circumcision and the prohibition of idolatry. Consequently, he makes a distinction between his Muslim and Christian neighbors: when he wants to indicate that he is talking about Christians, he uses the Hebrew word carel, carelim (‘uncircumcised’). Tanto carel tanto yišmacel que tocó en If an uncircumcised or Ishmaelite muestro vino sin kavaná, mašal, que el touches our wine without intention, for goy se_quere asentar y sacó la redoma example, the Gentile wants to sit down de aquel lugar o que_le diǰo el ĵidió and moves a barrel or when the Jew asks “Dame esta redoma de raquí”, y se la him: “Give me that barrel of firewater”, dio y se topó que es vino, basta que fue and he passes it to him and turns out to be sin kavaná es mutar el vino afi’ [afilú wine, if he is doing it without intention it ‘even’] de beberlo.53 is permitted even to drink this wine. There are several examples, where Papo recommends not to eat and drink Gentile’s food and drink, and even not to eat or drink in their company.54 Se‘udá.– Se acavide de non comer ĵunto Banquet.– Be careful not to eat together con carel que sirve ca”ź [cavodá źará with the uncircumcised who is an idol ‘idolatry’] [...], si es secudá de boda o worshiper [...], if it is a banquet served at de berit tanto que es goy que sierve ca”ź a wedding or a circumcision of a Gentile tanto que es yišmacel. Non se_quere who is an idol worshiper or an Ishmaelite. dicho que es asur de ir a_su caśa y It is needless to say that it is forbidden to go comer del goy salvo afi’ [afilú ‘even’] to his house and eat with a Gentile, except que non come con goyim en una meśa, if he eats at a table with [only] other Jews salvo en meśa apropiyada de ĵidiós [...]. but not with Gentiles sitting at the table Enpero si la secudá non es ni ḥupá ni de [...]. But if the banquet is not for a wedding millá, salvo amigos que comen y beben or a circumcision, but friends eating and enĵunto y cada uno paga su gaste: si son drinking together and everybody pays for rov ĵidiós, es mutar de ir afi’ a_la caśa his [own] meal: if the majority are Jews it del goy y comer y beber ĵunto en una is permitted to go to the Gentile’s house meśa [...], enpero si los ĵidiós son más and eat and drink together at one table [...], pocos que los goyyim, y afi’ mitad y but if there are fewer Jews than Gentiles, mitad, es asur de asentarsen en una meśa or even fifty-fifty, it is forbidden to sit at con los goyim.55 one table with Gentiles. 53 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Yoré decá (Jerusalem, 1884), fol. 17b. 54 Jacob Katz, Exclusiveness and Tolerance: Studies in Jewish-Gentile Relations in Medieval and Modern Times, Oxford University Press, London 1961, pp. 9-11. 70 Katja Šmid Especially interesting is the distinction between Muslim women called by Papo miṣriyot and Christian women neighbors in Bosnia whom he calls carelot (Heb., lit. ‘uncircumcised’).56 Another term for Gentile servants we find in the following text is esclavos o esclavas (goyyim) (pp. 48, 49). Se acaviden de non deǰar escarbar non Be careful not to allow servants to stoke el horno non la hornalla por mano de the fire or light the oven; and it is needless los esclavos; y non se_quere dicho que to say they cannot light it again to make non pueden haćer lunbre de muevo para coffee or to warm food because this is haćer cavé o callentar la comida, que es absolutely forbidden [...]. And likewise isur gamur [...]. Que ansí, los que tienen people who have uncircumcised or Gentile c arelot o goyyot en caśa que sepan que women at home should know that they haćen pecados a_miles y a milarias.57 commit sins by thousands and thousands. From all the references to Gentiles in analyzed texts, we find only the following passage where we find a derogatory expression cabeza de leño58 which could be the Hispanic version for “Goyish head”, describing a hard-headed, clumsy, or slow Gentile: Carta que está sellada, lo mej̀or de todo es A sealed letter, the best thing is to say que le_diga al goy: “Quería meldar esta to the Gentile: “I would like to read this carta; ma non puedo meldarla, siendo letter; but I cannot read it because it is está cerada”, y el goy ya lo entendió sealed”, and the Gentile understands that que quere que la abra y la abre; y si es you want him to open it and he opens cabeza de leño, que non se le entiende a it; but if he is hard-headed and does not abrirla, ya le puede dećirle a que la abra understand that he should open it, you tanbién.59 can even ask him [directly] to open it. 2. Common Ottoman Culture as Reflected in Papo’s Writings We have seen Rabbi Papo’s view and attitude to his non-Jewish neighbors belonging to different ethnic-religious communities in Bosnia, as represented in his halakhic writings 55 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Yoré decá (Jerusalem, 1884), fols. 41a-b. 56 Bunis, “Elements” (note 4), p. 160. 57 Papo, Séfer Méšeq betí (Sarajevo, 1872-1874), p. 49. 58 Literally, ‘woodenhead’ or ‘blockhead’. 59 Papo, Séfer Méšeq betí (Sarajevo, 1872-1874), p. 13. 71 A Sephardic Rabbi’s View of his Bosnian Neighbors in Judeo-Spanish. On the other hand, I would like to suggest how the common Ottoman culture influences Rabbi Papo’s mentality and shapes a number of particular religious practices of the Sephardim living in Bosnia. I will just give three short examples, related to (1) Ottoman material culture; (2) food and beverages; and (3) other customs. 2.1. Ottoman Material Culture When the rabbi is explaining rules regarding ritual immersion of vessels for purification before Passover (Heb., ṭevilat kelim), he makes references to many types of kitchen utensils, typical of Bosnia: copper waterpots (ibrikitos), coffeepots (ĝeźvés), coffee grinders, pepper mills (molinicos de pimienta y de cavé), mortars (almirez), graters (rallico), tray (tevsín), copper pot (tenĝeré), etc. Sometimes his descriptions of this segment of Ottoman material culture are very detailed, for example: Molinicos de pimienta y de cavé que Small pepper mills or coffee grinders están hechos en dos ḥalaqim la parte which are made of two parts, the upper de ariba que_es la taza y echan cavé y part is the cup in which you place the pimienta y el molino de fiero que muele, coffee or the pepper and the other part quere ṭevilá con beraxá; enpero el ḥéleq is the mill or grinder that grinds, require que arecibe el cavé que es de palo non ritual immersion with blessing; but quere ṭevilá [...]. a wooden part in which the [ground] coffee comes out does not require ritual immersion [...]. Los molinicos que haćen po cirenu que The small mills that they make here in son enteros de fiero vaday que cale ṭevilá our town, which are entirely made of entero todos los ḥalaqim con beraxá, iron, all the parts certainly require ritual y ansí los molinicos de teneché amarío immersion, and so do small mills made (tuch) tienen esteso din [...]. of yellow tinplate (bronze) to which the same rule applies [...]. Po cirenu que uśan a_mercar rallico de Here in our town there is a custom to fiero entero o que hay palo al deredor o buy graters made entirely of iron or de teneché que lo hiźo goy y con ditos [sometimes] having a wooden part around rallicos rallan maṣot para Pésaḥ, queren or tinplate, which are made by Gentiles; ṭevilá [...].60 these graters are used to grate unleavened bread for Passover, and require ritual immersion [...]. 60 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Óraḥ ḥayyim (Belgrade, 1862), fols. 144a-b. 72 Katja Šmid In the same chapter, we encounter the extraordinary practice regarding purification of bigger vessels and dishes, which with Papo’s approval, may be washed in the mosque’s fountain (šadervan de la mežquita) or in the Miljacka River, called according to Ladino pronunciation Milasca. This example points out rabbi’s respect for the sacred space of his neighbor as well as the existence of a good relationship between different ethno-religious communities in Sarajevo. En_la pila de_la fuente que es chica non In the basin of a small fountain you puede dar ṭevilá, enpero en el šaderván cannot do ritual immersion [to purify del baño y ansí en_el šaderván de_la utensils], but in the fountain of the mežquita muy bien puede dar ṭevilá y [town] baths and likewise in the fountain ansí en_la Milasca puede dar ṭevilá.61 of the mosque you can very well do the ritual immersion [for utensils] as well as in the Miljacka River. 2.2. Food and Beverages Regarding the observance of Jewish dietary laws (Heb., kašerut), Rabbi Papo every so often deals with various Bosnian non-Jewish dishes, mostly prepared by Gentiles. Some of his instructions on the consumption of more or less suitable food for his Jewish readers contain remarkable descriptions of dairy products (queśo ricota, manteca, leche, caimac, yagurti, etc.), meat (pastruma, taḅaḥiya also called sarchicha); fish (trutas, salmón, garato, ringa, güevos de peǰe enconado que se_llama ḥaviar, etc.); beverages (cavé, raquí, boźa, salep, etc.); and sweets (tešpiští, baclabá, ḥalvá, cadaif, etc.), for example: Cadaif que haćen los goyyim dehainu Cadaif that Gentiles make, as following, que toman masa blanda y la vaćiyan they take soft dough and pass it through por un kelí buracado sobre un siní de a hollowed utensil and into a copper cobre que está en la lunbre y se coće y se plate that is on the fire, and it cooks and haće a filos delgados, y los que mercan turns into fine threads, those who buy dito cadaif tornan lo bullen con aćeite y this cadaif boil it again with oil and add echan miel [...].62 honey [...]. 61 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Óraḥ ḥayyim (Belgrade, 1862), fol. 144b. 62 Papo, Séfer Daméseq Elicéźer: Yoré decá (Jerusalem, 1884), fols. 7b-8a. 73 A Sephardic Rabbi’s View of his Bosnian Neighbors 2.3. Other Customs Rabbinic mentality and Bosnian Ottoman culture come together in this last and very short reference. A characteristic of rabbinic discourse in Hebrew and Judeo-Spanish is the frequent use of abbreviations and acronyms. The rabbi usually gives his readers a Hebrew word whose consonants will serve as a mnemonic device for some commandments and laws. When Rabbi Papo is giving instructions on how to prepare lemonade on the Sabbath in accordance with Jewish law, he applies the same principle, suggesting to his readers the Arabic word selam (‘peace’), used as a widespread greeting in Bosnia, to remember the order of ingredients for this––particularly in the Balkans––very typical beverage. Limonada, cuando haće en šabbat, se_ Lemonade, when it is made on the quere prima que eche el zúcar después el Sabbath, first you have to put in the limón y después la agua [...] vesimanexa sugar, then the lemon and finally add vehiné SeLaM63: Zúcar64, Limón, water; and the mnemonic device given Máyim.65 is [the word] SeLaM66: Sugar, Lemon, Water. 3. Final Remarks Halakhic literature written in Judeo-Spanish by Elicéźer Šem Ṭov Papo bears out the notion that Gentiles undoubtedly took part in everyday Jewish life in nineteenth century Ottoman Bosnia. The rabbi’s attitude toward his Bosnian non-Jewish neighbors is overwhelmingly neutral. They are often characterized as cooperative, helpful and friendly; however, there are moments when they are dangerous and Jews must beware of them. Owing to the author’s use of terminology referring to Gentiles examined in this article, besides the “impersonal” Gentile, we can recognize in Papo’s literary opus 63 In the original aljamiado text written ‫ סלם‬s·l·m. 64 Here Papo exceptionally uses the word zúcar written ‫סוקאר‬, which according to the seseo in Ladino language is pronounced with s. This permits him to pun with the word selam. 65 Papo, Séfer Méšeq betí (Sarajevo, 1872-1874), p. 148. 66 S·L·M, the triconsonantal root in Arabic means ‘whole, safe, intact’. 74 Katja Šmid his real Bosnian neighbors, belonging to different ethno-religious communities, mainly Muslims and Christians. Especially revealing are his anecdotes describing some particular aspects concerning Gentiles, and descriptions of some––praised or criticized by the rabbi––practices concerning Jewish-Gentile relations in communal as well as private life. Although Gentiles are designated by Papo with words which could be understood as disparaging terms, it seems that in the rabbinic texts analyzed in the article, these words are used more as technical terms for non-Jews. Nevertheless, it would be necessary to examine all the references to Gentiles contained in his halakhic compendia to make relevant conclusions. It also seems indispensable to compare the use of these terms with their use in other rabbinic and non-rabbinic Judeo-Spanish texts67 from Bosnia and from other Sephardic communities, to qualify this statement. This would be the only way to understand the exact meaning this terminology has in Ladino, in general, and for this author and genre, in particular. It also seems obvious that the common Ottoman culture had a great impact on this Sarajevan rabbi and his mentality, as well as on some religious practices performed within the Bosnian environment. Besides a large number of allusions to the common culture in the rabbi’s halakhic compendia, we can observe the Judeo-Spanish language as used in the texts examined. They are full of loanwords from Hebrew, Turkish, Bosnian, Italian, and other Jewish and non-Jewish languages, being itself evidence of the complexity of the Sephardic identity in the Balkans. 67 See, for example, Tamar Alexander’s article “Multi-Cultural Ethnic Identity and the Attitude to the ‘Other’, ‘The Goy’ [non-Jew] according to Sephardic Proverbs” in this issue, pp. 000. 75 A Sephardic Rabbi’s View of his Bosnian Neighbors 76 Vladimir Jovanović “Good” Turks and “Evil” Ones: Multiple Perspectives on the Turkish Community Reflected in Serbian Sources of the Early Nineteenth Century Vladimir Jovanović The Institute of History, Belgrade A colorful portrayal of the Turkish Empire at its peak, as seen by the Evli Chelebi in the second half of seventeenth century, represented the golden age of Ottoman splendor in the Balkans. A romanticized and rather simplified vision of Turkish rule as a time of general prosperity and peaceful coexistence still remains a highly popular discourse today. Nevertheless, local narrative sources often prove it not to be completely accurate, offering a different kind of reality. Negation of the mainstream discourse is verified by a plethora of testimonies, at least in case of nineteenth century Serbia. Those authentications simply confirm that just as it started with raids and plunder, Turkish rule in Serbia ended in fires of war and blood. Such an obvious contradiction may be clarified only by a further and more detailed look at local Serbian sources. In a larger context they could prove to be a useful contribution, if taken as a tool to understand hidden causes of decay of the Ottoman power in the Balkans. But before we examine early nineteenth century sources closely, it would be helpful to offer a short survey of the earliest Serbian accounts concerned with Ottoman Turks as such. Being one of the most important political events in the Balkans in the second half of the fourteenth century, the emergence of the Turks attracted unseen attention by the learned man prepared to note and to memorize. Some even saw a second sign of God`s wrath in that happening, for Turks came to the Balkans almost immediately after the Black Death had stricken this region of Europe. Creating panic and terror, the Turkish invasion soon enough became an element of a greater psychological structure, a local variety of something that historian Jean Delumeau has defined with the term 77 “Good” Turks and “Evil” Ones “the Great fear”.1 It was a collective phenomenon of anxiety that gradually created a notion of helplessness and desperation throughout peoples of the Balkans.2 Changing the fortune of all the Balkan Christians, the Turkish conquest made the deepest impression and was well remembered in Serbian lands.3 Two of the most interesting narratives, which also marked the early beginnings of modern Serbian historiography, were intensely connected with Turks. First was the Biography of Serbian Despot Stefan Lazarevich, written in the early fifteenth century by Konstantin the Philosopher.4 It was followed by an autobiographical work of Konstantin Mihailovich from Ostrovo, known as the Janissary memoirs. While the first book depicted the devastation of Serbia on a larger political and chronological scale, the latter was a unique work by an insider.5 Composed separately, both these manuscripts described Turks as dangerous invaders and underhanded diplomats, prepared for any trickery, wild and wicked in their war campaigns. They were also seen as cruel enslavers, cherishing neither life nor dignity of Christians. In a word, the depiction was of a mighty, dreadful enemy, not an imagined but a real one. The identical point of view was repeated and corroborated by many other completely independent sources, written in the first half of the sixteen century. One of those was a chronicle, written by a Hungarian priest, Georg Sremac, who served in the 1 Žan Delimo, Strah na zapadu (od XIV do XVIII veka) Opsednuti grad, vol. 2, Novi Sad 1987, pp. 352-377. 2 Радивоје Радић, Страх у позној Византији 1180-1453, vol. 2, Стубови културе, Београд 2000, pp. 201-240. 3 Curiously enough, the first public monument erected in early fifteenth century Serbia to attract the attention of travelers and passengers was connected directly with the Turkish invasion. Made from a white marble stone with a text carved on its front, it was dedicated to the heroic death of Count Lazar Hrebeljanovich in the Battle of Kosovo. It was built by the order of his son, despot Stefan Lazarevich. 4 Konstantin the Philosopher was a learned priest originally from Bulgaria, who was forced to flee and took refuge at the court of despot Stefan Lazarevich, after the Turkish invasion. 5 Captured as a boy in the town of Novo Brdo in Kosovo, the author was converted to Islam and trained to serve as a janissary in the second half of the fifteenth century. After many years he managed to escape in Poland, returned to Christianity, and began to spread the word about the great Turkish danger. The second part of his book was a study filled with interesting details about the structure of Turkish society, military and political power, local costumes, and beliefs of the Turks. Константин Михаиловић из Островице, Јањичареве успомене или турска хроника, Српска књижевна задруга, Београд 1986. 78 Vladimir Jovanović administration of the Belgrade fortress in the times of the final Turkish invasion. The author provided a detailed account of ruthless Turkish war tactics and also revealed some interesting facts about early sixteenth century Serbs. He stressed that the Serbs soon become even worse than the Turks, choosing not to be a flock of lambs but a pack of wolves. As a people without a homeland, thousands of them migrated into Hungarian territory, transformed into mighty warriors without a permanent leader or any moral scruples.6 In the sixteenth century, after the establishment of the Ottoman state system in Serbia and Pannonia on a full scale, negatively oriented local narratives about Turks abruptly disappeared.7 As a result of the pacification, the Church hierarchy and clergy, the only educated and organized elite of the Serbian people, learned to live in loyal coexistence with Turkish authorities or in isolation in wealthy monasteries. Conversely, the local spirit of insurrection and hidden resistance was expressed through oral epic poetry, enormously popular in the ranks of illiterate. From the late sixteenth century on, legendary King Marko of the epic song cycles became a fictional hero admired by all Balkan Christians, for annihilating Turks in various situations. Other more realistic historical characters, those who had openly and successfully resisted the Ottoman regime, were also remembered and praised trough poems.8 Accompanied by the monotonous sound of a string instrument called gusle, epic songs were performed at local Christian meetings and festivities, usually by blind, experienced poets.9 The traditional standpoint given through epic poetry crossed paths 6 Prepared to serve the Hungarian king or the Turkish sultan alike, Serb mercenaries eventually became the main aquatic vanguard in Turkish war campaigns. Using a net of local rivers and moving swiftly in their small boats, they terrorized central Hungary, snatching people to sell them into slavery latter. Ђурађ Сремац, Посланица о пропасти Угарског краљевства, Српска књижевна задруга, Београд 1987. 7 The dispersion of a local political elite that would uphold and cherish ideologically intended narratives, written by the learned, was the most important factor in that process. Yet, the core ideas of those narratives, warning of the omnipotent Turks, were hastily inherited by the European cultural centers, multiplied and later exploited politically. Nedret Kuran-Burčoglu, “Predstave „Turčina“ u nemačkim medijima od ranog modernog doba do prosvetiteljstva”, Imaginarni Turčin, Čigoja štampa, Beograd 2010, pp. 84-94. 8 Радован Самарџић, Усмена народна хроника, Нови Сад 1978, pp. 38-55, 63-80. 9 Epic poetry inherited the soul of lost written works and dispersed a Serbian version of historical truth. In epic material, the appearance of the Turks coincided with loss of personal freedom and national distinctiveness. Those ideas connected the Middle Ages narratives with latter oral forms of historical topics well-liked in Serbian culture. 79 “Good” Turks and “Evil” Ones with the beginnings of modern Serbian historiography in the early nineteenth century. The cycle of epic songs dedicated to the Serbian uprising was the final chapter of a once very popular type of cultural media. Cherishing both the poetic and the historical approach, some Serbian writers deliberately used both written epic songs and prose texts to remember the past.10 A discourse of revenge for centuries of oppression was similar in both these forms of remembrances alike, oral and written. Those two main groups of sources, however, were not connected just ideologically, but also on a more concrete, technical level. At the base of both those narratives was information, passed on continuously by the power of the living word. Its unbroken repetition and interpretation produced an organized and logical chain of causes and events, given in chronological order. Owing to the general illiteracy and technical backwardness of the time, the odd and archaic model of oral historical techniques had its own advantages. Beside other difficulties, Serbian authors of the early nineteenth century were lacking a proper media to deliver their massage. Though very common in Europe, the printing press was not imported into Serbia until the third decade of the nineteenth century. If anyone wanted to use machinery and technology for massive book production, he had to go to Vienna or to Venice and to finance his own project privately.11 10 Important examples of parallel use of two different styles are works of Iguman of the Studenica monastery, Gerasim Georgievich, and those of a poet, Sima Milutinovich Sarajlija. Those writers had produced both prose and poetic forms of historical narratives. Знаменити догађаи новіє србске исторіє на кратко у везаномь и простомь слогу, списани Герасимомь Георгієвићемь, епископомь шабачкимь, Службени Гласник, Београд 2010; Сима Милутиновић Сарајлија, Историја Србије од почетка 1813е до конца 1815е године, Београд 1888; Сима Милутиновић Сарајлија, Сербијанка, Српска књижевна задруга, Београд 1993. 11 The first of those printed narratives was a book by an anonymous author, who made an effort to print his work in 1815 in Venice. It was written in an unusual dramatic form of didactic dialogue, typical in the learned circles of Enlightened Europe, elaborating about true reasons for the downfall of the Serbian uprising in 1813. It passed almost unknown by contemporaries under auspicious title—Сербіе плачевно пакипорабощеніе лøета 1813. Зашто и Како? У разговору порабощеніе Матере сь родным Синомь своимь, коему оставля послъднее свое завещаніє. (Lamenting Serbia and it`s re-enslavement in 1813. Why and how? In a dialogue of a re-enslaved mother and her own son, and her last bequest to him), Службени Гласник, Београд 2009. 80 Vladimir Jovanović Nevertheless, initial interest in collecting facts for further historical research was not the result of official state policy, but came as an individual effort of several enthusiasts. The father of Serbian historiography, Vuk Karadzich, took the first successful steps, depicting violent events of the early nineteenth century Serbia.12 His historical works comprise several different narratives, a few of which were monographic while most of them were short biographies and sketches, published in different periodicals.13 A gifted narrator, he also established an original method of exploration, stating that information`s for his works was gathered mostly through interviews and statements supplied by protagonists themselves. Those were first class testimonies taken in a simple form of report, and written down by the author.14 Karadzich was also a passionate collector of traditional forms of cultural heritage, such was poetry. He wrote down and systemized the oral poetry of the Serbian people, epic, lyric and even erotic folk songs, still very popular in the early nineteenth century. It was a massive work that he accomplished by interviewing the main poets of his time, combining material in thematic cycles and publishing some of it in volumes of books. Through his numerous projects, Karadzich wanted to present Serbian culture not only to a few thousand learned Serbs in Austria but also to European scientific circles.15 As a consequence of Karadzich`s continuous efforts, the first coherent history of the Serbian uprising was produced by a prominent European author. A professional historian, Leopold von Ranke, wrote The History of Servia and the Servian Revolution, following many sources that Vuk Karadzich kindly presented to him. Ranke`s work was printed in Berlin in 1828.16 Besides Ranke, there were several other Europeans 12 Gathering facts for his histories, he took ambitious expeditions and laborious journeys over distant parts of the Balkan Peninsula, a tremendous work that took the best years of Karadzich`s life. 13 Радован Самарџић, Писци српске историје, Београд 2009, pp. 185-201. 14 The special quality of his technique lay in its vividness, colorful descriptions, dynamic tempo, and richness of details. It was an interesting, original innovation, not dependent upon any given scientific tradition of the time. 15 Through his personal correspondence and relations with the scientific community, Karadzich’s work become well known to several prominent German poets, historians, and collectors of folklore rarities. 16 Ranke`s History was published in Serbian in 1864. Леополд Ранк, Историја српске револуције, Београд 1864. 81 “Good” Turks and “Evil” Ones who took a serious interest in Serbian uprising.17 A memoirist who gave just a superficial glance at Serbian affairs but meticulously reviled Turks from Bosnia in the early nineteenth century was the governor of the Ilyric provinces of the French empire, Marshal Marmont.18 Finally, there are two most intriguing sources regarding the events in Serbia in first half of nineteenth century strictly from Turkish point of view. One is the short but vivid passage from the Memoirs of the French convert to Islam, Mansur Ibrahim, from 1813.19 Another was a more thorough work by the indigent Belgrade Turk, Rashid Bey. Written in the form of a chronicle, it assembled many recollections and oral traditions of the old Belgrade Turks. In such a manner, it produced an interesting and totally opposite picture of events in Serbia in the time of the Uprising. Even the title of text was ironically termed (in translation)—History of Strange Events, depicting the fall of a Turkish might in Serbia and Belgrade, from the local perspective.20 Several decades after the first works by Karadzic’s foreign contemporaries were printed, there were similar attempts to recollect recent events in the Principality of Serbia. Lazar Arsenijevich was one of the first Serbian historians. History of the First Uprising and Biography of Vozd Karadjordje were the two main historical monographs of that author.21 Generally speaking, four main types of narrative sources appeared in the mid nineteenth century—histories, memoirs, biographies, and written oral histories.22 The only exception from the literary forms noted was a diary by Jeremija 17 Another interesting history of the Serbian uprising, published in fragments in 1826, 1827. and 1828, was the work of an Austrian officer, Ernest Gedeon Maretich. He observed the events in Serbia from a military point of view. A complete manuscript was published many years latter. Ернест Гедеон Маретић, Историја српске револуције 1804-1813, Филип Вишњић, Београд 1987, pp. 7-11. 18 His accounts about the situation in Bosnia and details about the social order in that Ottoman province are most valuable. Maršal Marmont Memoari, Logos Split 1984. 19 “Из мемоара Ибрахим-Манзур-Ефендије о неким догађајима у Босни и Србији из 1813 и 1814 године”, Споменик, vol. 22, Београд 1893. 20 “Рашид Беја Историја чудноватих догађаја у Београду и Србији”, Споменик, vol. 23, Београд 1894. 21 Лазар Арсенијевић, Историја Српског Устанка, vol. 1-2, Просвета, Београд 1988; Лазар Арсенијевић, Живот и прикљученија Карађорђа, Београд 2004. 22 The last were taken in the form of testimony, similar to Karadzich`s method, given by important figures of the Serbian Uprising several decades after the events. Јанићије Ђурић-Гаја Пантелић-Петар Јокић-Анта Протић, Казивања о Српском Устанку 1804, Српска књижевна задруга, Београд 1980. 82 Vladimir Jovanović Gagic, a Serbian diplomat and envoy in Russian headquarters.23 A serious surge in the publication different historical material in Serbia was connected with the celebration of fiftieth anniversary of the First Serbian Uprising, in 1854.24 In the field of autobiographical material there were several interesting projects, some of which are almost unknown even today. Such were memoirs of Maksim Evgenovich, a simple lad who had escaped from the war-stricken town of Uzice at the start of the Serbian uprising, only to find himself on the streets of Belgrade in the midst of the Serbian defeat in 1813.25 Memories of Milovan Vidakovich, short but expressive, depicted the uncertain times in the vicinity of Belgrade in late eighteenth century.26 Memoirs of Mateja Nenadovich, in contrast, were a most elaborate and detailed narrative of the times of Uprising.27 Chronologically, nearly all of those sources were started in the last decade of the eighteenth century, with the interaction between Serbs and Turks was at the core of their interest. Being an age of war and great uncertainty, the end of the eighteenth century led Turks and Serbs into some very confusing relations, resulting with mixed emotions on both sides. As sources unanimously confirm, the future leader of the Serbs, Black 23 Unfortunately, most of his diary was lost but for the few short pages for the years 1807- 1810, depicting the situation on the front toward the Turkish town of Vidin. Јеремија Гагић, “Дневник мој у Сербии”, Прилози за историју Првог српског устанка, Слово Љубве, Београд 1980, pp. 80-91. 24 Yet another interesting project that should be mentioned was a book of who was who in the times of the Serbian uprising, in the form of short biographies. Its purpose was to commemorate not just well-known army leaders but many other almost forgotten heroes. Милан Ђ. Милићевић, Поменик знаменитих људи у српског народа, Српска књижевна задруга Београд 1959. The same author also gathered stories and tales about the Serbian leader in the form of sketches filled with intriguing details omitted from official history. Милан Ђ. Милићевић, Карађорђе у говору и твору, Хипнос, Београд 1990. 25 Животопис Максима Евгеновића, штампарија Виктора Хорњанскога, Будимпешта 1877. 26 Starting with the times of the author’s youth, they described in the form of short sequences the suffering of a typical local Christian community and its exodus during the last Austro- Turkish war. The author’s family also was compelled to leave the village and sought refuge in desolate places to evade the bands of Turkish solders returning from the front. Милован Видаковић, Успомене, Чигоја штампа, Београд 2003, pp. 34-41. 27 Прота Матеја Ненадовић, Изабрана дела, Издавачка Књижарница Зорана Стојановића, Сремски Карловци—Нови Сад 2007. 83 “Good” Turks and “Evil” Ones George or Karadjordje as Turks nicknamed him, was in his youth a servant of several Turkish masters.28 His personal relations with influential local Turks also saved his life on numerous occasions.29 Following those well-known facts Serbian sources gladly admitted that there were many Turks who were true, noble, and merciful gentlemen.30 But aside from these obvious examples of mutual coexistence, the situation in the Pashaluk of Belgrade at the end of the eighteenth century was anything but normal. The last war of the Ottoman Empire with Austria was a starting point that changed the geopolitical future of the Northern Balkan Peninsula. The process which involved the consequent liberation of Serbia from Turkish dominance in many ways began as a complicated internal dispute between ruling parties of Turks themselves. In a nutshell, landlords and the domestic Turkish elite as well as the representatives of the sultan`s administration were endangered by massive presence of a janissary element in Serbia. As the main effective part of the sultan`s armies in time of war, those people also were a serious factor of internal instability. Known mainly for their brutal temperament, many of those Turks were remembered by local sources as completely evil individuals. Another euphemism for evil Turk or janissary was simply the murder, a person who is not afraid to cut off someone’s head if necessary. One source stated that those people were mostly strangers, poor Bosnians and Albanians who did not want to toil themselves, but forced Christian peasants to do so instead.31 As one of the noble Turks from Belgrade stated, at the end of eighteenth century the janissary were strangers and troublemakers, restless people of unclear 28 Latter, when he was accused of being a great rebel, Turkish semiofficial reports nicknamed him shamefully Kara Djaur, or the Black Infidel. 29 Milosh Obrenovich, the second Serbian monarch, before the Uprising had often toiled together with his Turkish landlord as a simple farmer. Being a spreznik, he was obliged to share the same plow and to provide one of two oxen to pull it. He also had business relations with other Turks, moving cattle from Serbia to the markets in Bosnia and further west. “Кнез Милош прича о себи”, Споменик, vol. 21, Београд 1893; Милићевић, Поменик, pp. 256-258. 30 In his memoirs, Vidakovich made a similar distinction between good and evil Turks. Speaking about the war that was to come, the local Turkish landlord of Vidakovich`s village gave a farewell speech to his peasants, full of fatherly advice and wisdom. Yet, Vidakovich also gave us the picture of a local Turkish soldier, who was a village thug, and a drunk, ready to spill the blood of the innocent. Видаковић, Успомене, pp. 13-17, 32-34. 31 Ненадовић, Изабрана дела, pp. 40-42 84 Vladimir Jovanović origin.32 For reasons of general peace and stability in the north of the Empire, Sultan Selim III had ordered that disobedient military elements such as the janissaries should be expelled from Serbia, by brute force if necessary. Most of the janissaries left Serbia in 1792, but with vengeance in their mind and planning to return as soon as possible.33 After ten years of attempts, the janissaries finally took political power in Serbia by force in the summer of 1801. Violent and shameful, the short period of janissary tyranny from 1801 to 1803 became the focal point of the first modern Serbian histories. The few years of their oppressive regime served also as valuable moral ground to explain precisely why Serbs eventually rose against the Turks. Among many other injustices, sexual misconduct as a particular form of oppression was one of the favorite methods of the new rulers. Practiced on a large scale, that type of excessive behavior was remembered as unforgivable wrongdoing calling for the rightful revenge on evil Turks.34 The last mistake of the self-proclaimed warlords of Serbia was also the most brazen one. Trying to extinguish the fire of rebellion that was in the air, they decided to liquidate all of the Serbian local leaders at once. The event, latter named the “slaughtering of Serbian chiefs”, backfired completely. Instead, it became the main cause for the general Uprising of Serbs in early 1804. Very soon most of the area, except for a few of the larger towns was taken from the Turks. Conveniently enough, the Serbs` main justification at the very beginning of insurrection was that they were 32 “Рашид Беја Историја чудноватих догађаја у Београду и Србији”, Споменик, vol. 23, Београд 1894, pp. 13, 9. 33 Exiled Serbian janissaries went only a few hundred kilometers from Belgrade, in Pashaluk of Vidin, where they could enjoy support of yet another janissary, the rebellious ruler of Vidin, famous Osman Pasvanogly. As a self-made ruler in North-west Bulgaria, he became the living icon of all the Balkan janissaries. Rossitsa Gradeva, “Secession and Revolution in the Ottoman Empire at the End of Eighteenth Century: Osman Pazvantoğlu and Rhigas Velestinlis”, Ottoman Rule and the Balkans 1760-1850 Conflict, Transformation, Adaptation, Rethymno 2007, pp. 73-93. 34 Sources stated that Sali-beg, a commander of the town of Rudnik, went way too far in this kind of manifestations. Nicknamed cynically “the Bull of Rudnik” for his sexual escapades, he had often organized special erotic parties, roaming from village to village, with his numerous escorts. Јанићије Ђурић—Гаја Пантелић—Петар Јокић—Анта Протић, Казивања, pp. 93-94, 163-165; Ранка, Историја Ranke, pp. 85-86; Маретић, Историја српске револуције, pp. 31-33. 85 “Good” Turks and “Evil” Ones still loyal subjects of the sultan, protecting their bare lives from tyrants. Acting at first in agreement with Ottoman authorities, Serbs insisted that they were only against the evil Turks, who had already killed administrative official of the sultan, the vesir of Belgrade, and disturbed the holy peace in his lands.35 Of note is that the terms good and evil Turks were used by Serbian sources as a handy metaphor to distinguish the peaceful, honest majority from the malignant and alien few in Turkish urban communities.36 During diplomatic negotiations with the sultan’s representatives, in 1806, one of the most important demands on the Serbian side was that all the evil Turks, namely krdzaly and janissary, were to leave Serbia for good. It was a cunning tactical move by the Serbian leaders, at the beginning of a long siege and full-scale war, to divide the enemy hidden behind strong walls. Their main demand denied, the Serbs soon turned many Turkish cities into ashes. Fires that were destroying Turkish cities, strongholds, and blockhouses in villages and on crossroads, marked the beginning of the Serbian uprising in 1804. In general, during the time of the Uprising, Turkish wealth in towns, houses, and stables, their horses, weaponry, and other luxury items were systematically robbed or sold, and the rest was destroyed. One of the most paradigmatic scenes captured in Serbian sources is the depiction of the conquest of Nova Varosh, a small town on the far western border. Karadjordje, a leader of Serbian fighters, was mesmerized by the beauty of local architecture, for houses were painted even better than churches from within. Inspired by that sight, he exclaimed that town should be spared completely owing to its beauty and given to the winning side of the war. But when first hearing that the Turks were coming back, one of the local commanders, a priest from Gucha, cried instantly, “Burn it … to the last house!”37 Burning as a form of war tactic, and also as an efficient form of reprisal, was very common in all the Europe of the Napoleonic wars. French Marshal Marmont, a governor of Ilyric provinces, described the enormous joy of his Dalmatian Christian solders, eager to burn down Muslim houses in a punitive raid throughout Western 35 Contrary to the evil, the good Turks were also called loyal or the Imperial ones. Ненадовић, Изабрана дела, pp. 80, 95. 36 One of the main Serbian demands in unfruitful negotiations with local Turks from Belgrade, Rudnik, Shabac, Uzice, and Valjevo fortresses in 1804 and 1805 was to expel all of the strangers and evil elements among them. 37 Нићифор Нинковић, Жизнописанија моја, Нолит, Београд 1988, p. 6. 86 Vladimir Jovanović Herzegovina.38 The same was the fate of several Turkish towns in Serbia, too. Rudnik, a small castle in central Serbia and the court of the hated Sali-beg, was burnt to the ground as a symbol of shameful tyranny. The fires of Rudnik, turning a winter night sky into purple red, were greeted by the Serbian rebels who also set ablaze the town of Valjevo.39 From a minor political event, the Serbian rebellion against the janissary tyranny gradually escalated into a state of open war with whole Ottoman Empire. As it lasted for almost a decade, some practical forms of communication between warlike parties were established, on the basis of daily necessities. Rituals of truce making or the acquisition of protection, by gaining or giving the status of spiritual brotherhood or step-fatherhood, were typical of these. Often they were used to cement different and exact personal bonds between Serbs and Turks, in times of danger, in a moment of captivity for example. They were connected with precise details and formal gestures of good will.40 To send an apple as a sign of good intentions, or to share a piece of bread dipped in salt with an opposing side, bore heavy symbolic meaning.41 Practiced on numerous occasions, such rituals were quite common at the beginning of the nineteenth century. The absence of a language barrier also provided an excellent opportunity to communicate directly with the enemy, for many Turks in Serbia were actually Bosnians and other Slav Muslims.42 The destiny of Captain Kulin, legendary Bosnian military leader, may serve as a colorful example, for it personifies the double cultural identity of many Turkish nobles fighting against Serbs. Less than a year before his death, he admitted in perfect Serbian and in the form of joke that on his court he had 38 Maršal Marmont Memoari, pp. 173-175. 39 Ненадовић, Изабрана дела, p. 82; Јанићије Ђурић—Гаја Пантелић—Петар Јокић— Анта Протић, Казивања, pp. 100-101. 40 Ненадовић, Изабрана дела, pp. 61, 74; “Из мемоара Ибрахим-Манзур-Ефендије о неким догађајима у Босни и Србији из 1813 и 1814 године”, Споменик, vol. 22, Београд 1893, pp. 49-50; Арнолд Ван Генеп, Обреди прелаза систематско изучавање ритуала, Српска књижевна задруга, Београд 2005, pp. 35-38. 41 The ritual of sharing an apple was known as a frendly gesture in the Balkans, from the Middle Ages on. 42 Јанићије Ђурић—Гаја Пантелић—Петар Јокић—Анта Протић, Казивања, pp. 102- 104. 43 Ненадовић, Изабрана дела, p. 135. 87 “Good” Turks and “Evil” Ones two learned men, an Imam and an Orthodox priest, so that he could converse politely with someone. Our source also mentioned that Captain Kulin made a very strong impression on him, as a true gentleman and an authoritarian military commander in one person.43 A double-faced picture of a Turk emerged, an awe-inspiring enemy and an intimate stranger at the same time.44 This odd set of dualities is also reflected in a verse of the famous epic song about the Mishar battle, in which Captain Kulin lost his life. Unaware of the tragic events and waiting for good news in his court in Bosnia, Kulin’s wife communicated with her husband through a pair of ravens, feathered messengers and birds of war. She asked her imagined intermediaries about his last exploits in Serbia with exact question: “Не води ли српскијех робиња, Које би ме вијерно послужиле?” (translation) “Brings He not Serbian slave girls, That would serve me faithfully?”45 Almost like ordering on a shopping spree, she was counting material goods that should be expected from a retaliatory expedition on rebellious infidels. Instead, her husband was killed and his own possessions pillaged. In many cases, during the years of the Serbian uprising, old customs and traditional mildness toward the enemy seemed to disappear completely. It was a new kind of a total war, political and religious, but economical and social as well.46 Acts of vengeance gradually led to a morbid, even bizarre fashion of conflict, seen on many other parts of the European battlefield as explicit episodes of war atrocities. Various experiments on the artistic and creative usage of dead enemy corpses were realized as primitive forms of war propaganda. They also served as a strong psychological weapon, striking horror in the hearts of the nearby population. 44 Ranke stated that Bosnian Turks were deeply devoted to local epic poetry. Of course, in their version of epic songs, all the Serbian characters were replaced with analogue Muslim heroes. Ранка, Историја, pp. 56-57. 45 Милорад Суреп-Панић, Филип Вишњић живот и дело, Просвета, Београд 18967, p. 186. 46 After the battle, noble Bosnians were hunted down by Serbians eager for rich spoils and expensive oriental clothing. Some of them were killed even in Austrian territory to where they had managed to escape. 88 Vladimir Jovanović Practices of desecration and mutilation of dead bodies found its strongest expression in exposing publicly whole piles of heads of the enemy. In its massive form, this type of incident took place in at least two separate events in 1809. On both occasions, deliberate heaping of the heads happened at border-line locations and in territory highly disputed between Serbs and Turks. In light of those facts, these practices could rationally be explained only as a special mixture of a religious and psychological kind of absolute war at its highest peak. Serbian sources did not evade such distasteful facts, for only through them we can learn that after a battle of Sijenica, Serbs had cut off and impaled on short wooden sticks most of the 2,500 enemy heads. Owing to a shortage of more wooden sticks, they simply placed the rest of the heads on the earth, in lines beneath the impaled ones, thus forming an unusual temporary monument, a kind of barbarous but powerful triumphant sign.47 Turkish reprisal against Serbs was swift and expanded boundaries of cruelty even further. That same year, after a great Serbian defeat near town of Nish, Turks erected an everlasting monument made from almost one thousand Serbian sculls, taken after the battle. Heads of dead Serbs were used instead of bricks; they were firmly fixed into the frontage of square construction several meters high. It was a unique monument made to honor the great Turkish victory. Local Christians, however, named it a Scull- tower, which came to be the most powerful symbol of glorious fallen heroes.48 After many bitter disappointments and numerous mutual betrayals, mercy had vanished and harsh treatment against the enemy became a routine. Even a vesir of Belgrade who was promised safe passage to Nish was killed and robbed in a road ambush organized by Serbs.49 Especially after the total fall of Belgrade in 1807, the Turks, who gave themselves in good faith and trust, were often tricked, put to death, or otherwise deprived.50 Against the best advice of Serbian Mitropolit Stefan 47 Јанићије Ђурић—Гаја Пантелић—Петар Јокић—Анта Протић, Казивања, p. 289. 48 Božidar Jezernik, Divlja Evropa, Beograd 2007, pp. 162-165. 49 Rashid bay stated that Belgrade Turks instantly knew what had happened to their vesir when they saw Serbs returning, wearing the bloody hats of the vesir`s personal servants who had just been killed. “Рашид Беја Историја чудноватих догађаја у Београду и Србији”, Споменик, vol. 23, Београд 1894, p. 16. 50 Leopold fon Ranke tried to justify the Serb action by stating that nothing better could be expected from people who had high regard for vengeance over their enemies. Ранка, Историја, pp. 127-128; Вук Караџић, Историјски списи, vol. 2, Београд: „Просвета“, 1969, p. 67. 89 “Good” Turks and “Evil” Ones Stratimirovich not to offend Turkish religious feelings and moral standards, the triumphant Serbian army in Belgrade did just the opposite.51 Individual religious conversion from Islam to Christianity, either through a form of forced marriage or by some similar coercive measure, was in progress. And while some dozens of the poorest Turkish craftsmen remained in their homes and with their Islamic fate, others were compelled to depend on the mercy of the Serbian authorities. And it was well known that only Christians could receive free bread in times of need.52 The number of unprotected members of the Turkish community in Belgrade begging for a piece of bread was so vast that it was literally hard to cross the street.53 Interesting details connected to the question of mixed marriages and relations may be extracted from autobiographies, such as that of Nicifor Ninkovich. At Karadjordje`s court in Topola, the author saw a man dying in agony, after the gravest abuse. Ninkovich learned that it was some unfortunate Serb, who had come to the court asking for a permission to marry a Turkish girl. But instead of his request being granted, the man was beaten to death by the leader of uprising himself.54 This unusual outcome was a direct consequence of an earlier Karadjordjes order, strictly forbidding such practice to ordinary people. At the same time the Serbian leader, who was also a married man, had his own secret love affair with a certain Turkish girl named Mariana. Disguised as a boy and having short hair, this mysterious woman had followed him throughout the years 1807 and 1808. To the dismay and unpleasant surprise of his compatriots, the Serbian leader gave away to this personal weakness.55 So it seems that the question of the enemy inside, the temptation of the destructive force brought by the war was the great turning point for every individual. It was not simply an economical matter but rather an ethical and a spiritual one.56 According to 51 These events were described as great sins upon the souls of Serbian leaders. But even Karadjordje himself could not stop or prevent all of the incidents of this kind. Ненадовић, Изабрана дела, p. 86. 52 There were even some attempts to convert young Turkish boys into Christianity. That experiment took place in Belgrade from 1808 but was abandoned some years latter. Арсенијевић, Историја Српског Устанка, vol. 1, pp. 362-364. 53 Караџић, Историјски списи, vol. 2, pp. 214-215. 54 Нинковић, Жизнописанија, p. 42. 55 Арсенијевић, Живот и прикљученија Карађорђа, p. 45. 56 There were cases of murder inside the Serb army camps for pure greed and the want of a beautiful horse or a silver knife taken from a dead Turk. 90 Vladimir Jovanović the customs of war, many Serbian leaders also took Turkish slave girls as a sign of their ultimate power and as legitimate booty. A typical example of a local commander who had gradually turned into a great master of the eastern area of Serbia was that of Milenko Stojkovich. He became known as a person who enjoyed fashionable, luxury items and public spectacles. In appearance he resembled more a great Levantine gentleman of the time than the modest merchant he had actually been before the war.57 Finally, against all religious norms and common sense, Stojkovich even created his own harem of nymphs and concubines.58 Excessive acts by Serbian commanders and the polygamist tendencies some of them practiced openly were polar opposites of the basic standards of honesty traditionally revered by the Serbian community. The injustice and ruthlessness toward the Turks, as many wise people predicted, would be most severely punished if the former masters were ever to return to Serbia. That great threat materialized soon after the Serbian uprising finished in military disaster in 1813. When Ottoman forces finally reoccupied the land, Serbs and Turks switched roles once again. Scenes of bloodbaths and unspeakable horrors followed, while Turkish revenge in Serbia burst out as a full scale event after ten years of frustration. Details from Goya’s most infamous sketches, Disasters of war, referring to the atrocities of the Napoleonic wars in Spain, could also be seen in Serbia in the fall of 1813. Short but gruesome, similar expression at that time came from Ibrahim Manzur, a new Muslim and an ex-French royalist, who came in Serbia under protection of mighty Bosnian army leaders. He stressed that in spite of the mild weather and the beautiful landscape, it was most unpleasant to roam in the vicinity of Belgrade in autumn 1813, since the all-pervasive stench was unbearable. Roads were infested with collections of impaled or otherwise mutilated human bodies, half eaten by dogs. He also noticed that roads to Bosnia were clogged with numerous slaves and cattle taken in Serbia as a war prize.59 In Belgrade, at least, Turkish anger against Serbs had its own practical limitations, as attested to by several local autobiographies. If taken as loyal and obedient subjects, 57 The famous military chief of the Krajina region, Hajduk Veljko Petrovich, had also reorganized his personal life in a hedonistic fashion similar to the opulent style of Milenko Stojkovich. 58 Караџић, Историјски списи, vol. 2, pp. 97-99. 59 “Из мемоара Ибрахим-Манзур-Ефендије о неким догађајима у Босни и Србији из 1813 и 1814 године”, Споменик, vol. 22, Београд 1893, pp. 51-52. 91 “Good” Turks and “Evil” Ones Serbs could experience a totally different kind of reality. And while hundreds of their countrymen were sold daily on the Belgrade slave market, a few Serbs enter into prodigious merchant enterprises with Turks. The memoirs of Maksim Evgenovich, who stayed in Belgrade at the time when most of the Serbs were fleeing to Austria, provided a picture of an opportunistic situation for those who could earn.60 Outside Belgrade and in the rural areas, however, perpetual Turkish revenge had instigated the short but bloody Second Uprising in spring 1815. After several fierce battles, most of the sacrifices made from 1804 onward were rewarded with the semi- independent political status of Serbia. A new national leader, Milosh Obrenovich, made a successful peace agreement with the Turks and applied a new strategy. Acting under a great Turkish umbrella and practicing the art of the possible, he formally hung him-self on a Sultan’s sleeve, as his spiritual stepfather and protector, Bosnian vezir, had advised him to do.61 Through a formal submission, Milosh Obrenovic obtained an excellent opportunity to destroy a former order of power, organized in 1804.62 In the position of the new ruler, Milosh Obrenovich played several roles at once. To his Christian subjects he represented the liberator, but at the same time he was a harsh master for almost a quarter of a century. Shrewd and intelligent, from illiterate peasant he gradually became the most powerful figure in Serbia. His concept of rule had to be simultaneously simple and flamboyant, practical and powerful. This original mixture of former administrative knowledge with a touch of Oriental despotism was a winning combination. Contemporaries pointed out that the behavior and manners of their master were most unpleasant, resembling the dark times of janissary tyranny. Projection of might and splendor, oriental and despotic as it might be, was convenient for Milosh Obrenovich in many respects. With power and wealth that he alone could enjoy, he elevated him self high above his subjects. In public, smoking a long pipe and surrounded by many servants and guards, he was usually adorned with 60 Similar was the experience of Nicifor Ninkovich, who came to Belgrade to work several years after Evgenovich did. Their personal contributions of written details of local destinies and experiences should not to be ignored if the complex position of a simple, anonymous individual is to be understood. Нинковић, Жизнописанија, pp. 87-91, 282- 283; Животопис Максима Евгеновића, pp. 17-21, 30-37. 61 Караџић, Историјски списи, vol. 2, p. 71. 62 As an extended arm of Turks, he exterminated his own political opponents, killing even Karadjordje in year 1817. 92 Vladimir Jovanović expensive Turkish robes, his head topped with a tall white turban.63 Watching Milosh Obrenovich and members of his extended family on one occasion, his personal barber ironically observed that they looked and acted exactly like Turks. In the meantime, actual Turks who came back to Serbia after 1813 were dispossessed of their former glory, being real victims of new political circumstances.64 Foreign travelers depicted pitiful scenes of half-burned Belgrade streets where dozens of poor dwellers were begging for food daily.65 Financially ruined, many Turkish landlords were also accepting occasional handouts, given by Milosh Obrenovich. All of them were praying for the good health of Serbian Count, their only protector and financial patron. Finally, most of the indigent Turks, concentrated in Belgrade, were compelled to sell their homes for meager sums and to leave. They had, however, to arrange their financial transactions with Serbs in complete secrecy, since this practice was formally prohibited by the Ottoman authorities. In a conversation with a certain French traveler, however, a Belgrade vesir explained his action concerning the ban on Turkish estates` business quite differently. He clarified that it was totally insignificant to a sultan, if those unfortunate people would die in Belgrade or on the streets of any other imperial city. Following that strange logic, he concluded that therefore there was no reason for them to leave their home-town in the first place.66 So it seems that complete denial of reality, combined with unshaken pride, was the last but very weak official strategy for governing the once prosperous Ottoman city of Belgrade.67 Local Turks were also offended on a more personal level by a new architectural policy of their Serbian neighbors. Rashid Bey was convinced that Christian merchants were building their new tall brick houses with malignant purpose and at the secret 63 The common insult, he threw at those who did not act according to his will was – “Sikter“, which was Turkish for – “beat it“! 64 Unable to function without the help of the common people, they willingly accepted anyone who was capable of working and producing whether Christian or Serb. 65 Ото Дубислав Пирх, Путовање по Србији у години 1829, Ђорђе Магарашевић, Путовање по Србији у 1827. години, Просвета Београд 1983, pp. 44-47; Караџић, Историјски списи, vol. 2, p. 228. 66 “Србија у години 1834 писма грофа Боа-ле Конта де Рињи, министру иностраних дела у Паризу о тадашњем стању у Србији”, Споменик, vol. 24, Београд 1894, p. 17. 67 After the Principality of Serbia had gained formal autonomous status in 1830, it became obvious to all that it was lost case for the rest of the Ottoman Empire. 93 “Good” Turks and “Evil” Ones command of the evil Count Milosh. Conquering space with their towering upper stories and windows intentionally facing private places and intimate gardens of their Muslim neighbors, they were destroying peace and harmony which had existed previously.68 Humiliated and marginalized in his hometown, Rashid Bey as many others finally decided to leave Serbia. The last remains of the Turkish urban community in Belgrade gradually shrunk, struggling throughout the following decades of nineteenth century. Being cut off geographically from the rest of the Empire and economically ruined, Turks could not sustain themselves and their families just by renting their houses and shops to Christian neighbors. Thus, an ominous prophecy in the popular epic song from the time of Uprising was fulfilled to the letter: - “Друмови ће пожељет Турака, А Турака нигде бити неће!” (translation) - “Roads will be longing for the Turks, But the Turks will be no more!”69 68 “Рашид Беја Историја чудноватих догађаја у Београду и Србији”, Споменик, vol. 23, Београд 1894, pp. 33-34, 39. 69 Милорад Суреп-Панић, Филип Вишњић, p. 143. 94 Gila Hadar Jewish Women’s Conversion to Islam in the End of the Ottoman Era (Salonica) “Mijor dezeo verte kortada la garganta ke azer insulto a tu ley santa”.1 Gila Hadar University of Haifa Mass Conversion of Christians and Jews to Islam was a common phenomenon in the early modern Ottoman Empire. Most researchers agree that the phenomenon of mass Islamization was due to religious persecution and to political and economic pressure, and that this phenomenon declined at the end of the eighteenth century.2 Alongside these mass conversions, thousands of free and slave Christian and Jewish women also converted to Islam within the entire area of the Ottoman Empire.3 Most of the studies on are based on 1 “Evreopula de Izmir”, El Meseret, 1.12.1921 (Ladino). 2 Nehemia Levzion, Conversión to Islam, Holmes & Meier, New York 1979; Michael Gervers (ed.), Conversion and Continuity :Indigenous Christian Communities in Islamic Lands, Eighth to Eighteenth Centuries, Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, Toronto 1990; Anton Minkov, Conversion to Islam in the Balkans: Kisve Bahası Petitions and Ottoman Social Life, 1670-1730, Brill, Leiden 2004; Marc Baer, Honored by the Glory of Islam: Conversion and Conquest in the Ottoman Empire, Oxford University Press, Oxford 2008; idem, The Dönme: Jewish Converts, Muslim Revolutionaries and Secular Turks, Stanford University Press, Stanford 2010; Rifat Bali, A Scapegoat for all Seasons: The Dönmes or Crypto-Jews of Turkey, Isis Press, Istanbul 2009; Tijana Krstic, “Illuminated by the Light of Islam and the Glory of the Ottoman Sultanate: Self-Narratives of Conversion to Islam in the Age of Confessionalization”, Comparative Studies in Society and History 51, 1 (2009), pp. 35-63; idem, Contested Conversions to Islam: Narratives of Religious Change in the Early Modern Ottoman Empire, Stanford University Press, Stanford 2011. 3 Fatma Müge Göçek and Marc D. Baer, “Social Boundaries of Ottoman Women’s Experience in Eighteenth-Century Galata Court Records”, in Madeline C. Zilfi (ed.), 95 Jewish Women’s Conversion to Islam in the End of the Ottoman Era the Ottoman census records (tahrir defterleri), the sharia court record (sicill),and the Prime Ministry Ottoman Archives in İstanbul (BOA). 4 According to many scholars, the main reasons for conversion until the end of the nineteenth century throughout the Ottoman Empire was the desire of women converts to improve their living conditions in a personal way such as divorce from a violent husband or liberation from slavery or captivity. Conversion was a form of opposition to family and social hierarchy and a means for feminine empowerment. From a study of the Jewish press appearing in Salonica at the beginning of the twentieth century, we are witness to a rising phenomenon of young Christian and Jewish women converting to Islam in order to marry a Muslim. Each year an average of 10-15 Jewish girls in Salonica became Muslims. In 1909 in Istanbul, 13 Jewish girls converted—12 became Muslim and one became a Christian nun.5 In most of these cases the girl ran away from home or was kidnapped by her intended husband. A woman who remained for one night in a Muslim house was considered as being converted and returning to her home and to Judaism was very difficult and sometimes impossible. Women in the Ottoman Empire: Middle Eastern Women in the Early Modern Era, E. J. Brill, New York 1997, pp. 48-65; Marc Baer, “Islamic conversion: Narratives of Women”, Gender & History 16, 2 (2004), pp. 425-448. 4 Ronald C. Jennings, “Women in the Early Seventeenth-Century Ottoman Judicial Records: The Sharia Court of Anatolian Kayseri”, Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient 18 (1975), pp. 53-114; Haim Gerber, “Social and Economic Position of Women in an Ottoman City, Bursa, 1600-1700”, International Journal of Middle East Studies 12 (1980), pp. 231-244; Amnon Cohen, Jewish Life Under Islam: Jerusalem in the Sixteenth Century, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA 1984; Madeline C. Zilfi (ed.), Women in the Ottoman Empire: Middle Eastern Women in the Early Modern Era, E. J. Brill, New York 1997; Leslie Peirce, Morality Tales: Law and Gender in the Ottoman Court of Aintab, University of California Press, Berkeley and Los Angeles 2003; Bülent Özdemir, “Political Use of Conversion in the Nineteenth Century Ottoman Context: Some Cases From Salonica”, JSRI, No.7, Spring 2003 pp.155-169; The same article on the net: http:// www.jsri.ro.old/html%20version/index/no_7/bulentozdemir-artcol.htm; Eyal Ginio, “Childhood, Mental Capacity and Conversion to Islam in the Ottoman State”, Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies, 25 (2001), pp. 90-119 (On Salonica: Özdemir and Ginio). 5 “Muchachas judias konvertidas” (Conversion of Jewish young women), Revista Popular, 17.2.1910; “Grave eskandalo en konsepli”, El Avenir, 23.9.1912; El Djugeton, October 1, 1912; “Notas de Kavala”, El Imparsial, 10.10.1911. 96 Gila Hadar We do not hear the voices of these women, nor are we aware of the reasons for their conversion. The girls disappear behind the veil and the only voices heard are those of the family trying to bring their daughter back into the family circle. The newspapers report this as forbidden love or abduction and describe the attempts of the community leaders and the chief rabbi to prevent conversion and to restore the girl to her family.6 The conversion of young women to Islam and marriage with Muslim men is known to us from folk poetry. But one cannot know for certain whether the cases described in poetry actually occurred in reality, or whether the poem was intended for social and educational purposes to deter girls and young women from abandoning their faith and to protect the boundaries of family, community, and religious life.7 In this article I shall try to examine the following questions: What were the reasons for conversion? What were the causes for the rise of this phenomenon, its “exposure”, and the public discussion in the press during the period in question? Salonica at the End of the Ottoman Era The nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth witnessed far-reaching political, social, and geographical changes in the world and in the Ottoman Empire. Long-standing political and social institutions were undermined, and extensive territories in the Mediterranean area, including Palestine, were lost to the empire. From 1821 onwards, the Balkans—the region in which Salonica is situated—were in a state of unrest. The struggles in the Balkans brought about geopolitical and demographic changes which influenced all the inhabitants of the region. The community was influenced by both Turkish and Hellenic nationalism and by socialist and communist ideologies, as well as by the development of modern capitalist industries. The Alliance Israélite Universelle established schools, and the concepts of equality and fraternity became current, in addition to those of Turkism and, later, Hellenism. Others adopted the concept of Jewish nationalism—Zionism. 6 “La ija pedrida” (A lost girl), El Avenir, March 23, 1909; “Las konversiones”, La Epoka, August 27, 1911; “En Saloniko”, El Avenir, May 29, 1912. 7 Samuel G. Armistead and Joseph H. Silverman (eds.), Judeo-Spanish Ballads from Bosnia, University of Pennsylvania Press, Philadelphia 1971; Moshe Atias, Kansionero Judeo- Español, Ben-Zvi Institute, The Hebrew University, ‘Kiryat-Sefer’, Jerusalem 1972 [in Hebrew and Ladino]; Samuel Elazar, El romancero judeo- español, Svjetlost, Sarajevo 1987. 97 Jewish Women’s Conversion to Islam in the End of the Ottoman Era At the beginning of the twentieth century Salonica,8 was a multi-religious, multilingual, and multicultural city. The inhabitants of Salonica included Jews, Orthodox Greeks, Muslims, Armenians, and Catholics. These groups, whose interaction shaped the character of the city, were highly stratified into differentiated classes, professions, and income groupings. Culturally, however, each ethnic group developed its own distinct traditions relating to family values, religious rituals, language and literature (Jews in the Judeo-Spanish language called Ladino, Christians in Greek, Muslims in Turkish), and day-to-day customs.9 Though sharing the same urban space, sitting in the same coffee houses and mehanes drinking Raki and coffee, walking side by side in the bazars and on the seaside, or working together in the tobacco and textile factories,10 we find three very distinct 8 On Salonica at the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth, see Harry Collinson-Owen, Salonica and After: The Sideshow That Ended the War, Hodder and Stoughton, London 1919; Leon Sciaky, Farewell to Salonica: Portrait of an Era, E.H. Allen Ltd., London 1946; Gilles Veinstein (ed.), Salonique, 1850-1918: La “ville des Juifs” et le réveil des Balkans, Paris, Autrement, Serie Memoires n.12, 1992; Meropi Anastassiadou, Salonique, 1830-1912: Une ville ottomane à l’âge des Rèformes, Brill, Leiden 1997; Mark Mazower, Salonica, City of Ghosts: Christians, Muslims and Jews, 1430-1950, Vintage, New York 2005. For a general overview of the relationship between Jews, Christians, and Muslims in the Ottoman Empire see Benjamin Braude and Bernard Lewis (eds.), Christians and Jews in the Ottoman Empire: The Functioning of a Plural Society, Holmes & Meier, New York 1982; Paul Dumont and François Georgeon (eds.), Villes ottomanes à la fin de l’Empire, L’Harmattan, Paris 1992; François Georgeon, “Selanik musulmane et deunmè”, in Gilles Veinstein, Salonique, 1850-1918, pp. 105-118; Alexandra Yerolympos and Vasilis Colonas, “Un Urbanisme cosmopolite”, in Veinstein, Salonique, 1850-1918, pp. 158-176; Eugene Cooperman, Turco-Jewish Relations in the Ottoman City of Salonica, 1889-1912, A. Bel& Howell, U.M.I Dissertation Services, New York 1993; Minna Rozen (ed.), The Last Ottoman Century and Beyond: The Jews in Turkey and the Balkans, 1808- 1945, vols. 1, 2, Proceedings of the International Conference on “The Jewish Communities in the Balkan and Turkey in the 19th and 20th Centuries through the End of World War II, The Goldstein-Goren Diaspora Research Center, Tel Aviv University, Tel Aviv 2002. 9 Meropi Anastassiadou, “Sports d’élite et élites sportives à Salonique au tournant du siècle”, in Vivre dans l’empire ottoman: Sociabilitès et relations intercommunautaires XVIIIe-XXe siècles, Paul Dumont and François Georgeon (eds.), pp. 144-160, L’Harmattan, Paris 1997. 10 Effie Avdala, “Class, Ethnicity, and Gender in Post-Ottoman Thessaloniki: The Great Tobacco Strike of 1914”, in Borderlines: Genders and Identities in War and Peace, 1870- 1930, Billy Melman (ed.), pp. 421-438, Routledge, New York 1998. 98 Gila Hadar groups who were alien to one another. It was not walls of stone which separated them; it was language, culture, religion, customs, delineations of social class, and in particular, disparate political goals and aspirations.11 In order to understand how individuals and social groups identify themselves about communal and conceptual boundary-crossings, we propose to examine the phenomenon of conversion,12 mainly of young, poor women, to Islam at the beginning of twentieth century Salonica. Theories of Conversion: Understanding Religious Change In 1981 the researchers Lofland and Skonovd13 distinguished six different types of conversions: intellectual, mystical, experimental, affectional, revivalist, and coercive.14 This typology is very important for discussions about conversion but does not give a clear answer about the reasons for the conversion of young women and girls from poor families who married young Muslims. There also exist affection, rebellion, and the exertion of social and political power, but the typology does not refer to the psychological and social circumstances of the conversion. Antti Oksanen suggests a psychological hypothetical model deduced from J. Bowlby’s “Attachment theory” that there is a higher probability for a religious conversion to occur in the following cases:15 11 Iakovos J. Aktsoğlou, “The Class Movement in the City of Thessaloniki”, Balkan Studies, 38, 2 (1997), pp. 285-306. 12 H. Newton Malony and Samuel Southard (eds.), Handbook of Religious Conversion, Religious Education Press, Birmingham, AL 1992; Lewis R. Rambo, Understanding Religious Conversion, Yale University Press, New Haven and London 1993; Antti Oksanen, Religious Conversion: A Meta-Analytical Study, Lund University Press, Lund 1994, pp. 52-55; Dennis Washburn and A. Kevin Reinhart (eds), Converting Cultures: Religion, Ideology and Transformations of Modernity, Brill, Leiden 2007. 13 J. Lofland and N. Skonovd, “Conversion Motifs”, Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion, 20, 4 (1981), pp. 373-385; 14 On psychology and sociology of conversion, see Lewis R. Rambo, “The Psychology of Conversion”, pp. 159-177; William Sims Bainbridge, “The Sociology of Conversion”, in Newton Malony and Southard (eds.), Handbook of Religious Conversion, pp. 178-191. 15 Attachment Theory was first applied to the psychology of religion by L. A. Kirkpatrick and P. R. Shaver, “Attachment Theory and Religion: Childhood Attachments, Religious Beliefs, and Conversion”, Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion, 29, 3 (1990), pp. 315-334. 99 Jewish Women’s Conversion to Islam in the End of the Ottoman Era 1. In the case of individuals with insecure attachment histories 2. When preceded with crisis or tension experiences 3. When there is a positive interaction between individuals manifesting seeking behavior which is directed towards those who are willing and able to provide help and comfort.16 In this article I shall refer to the theoretical model not in its psychological aspects but in its social ones. The Community Attitude towards the Converts: “Sifts the chaff and leaves the blessing” The laws of the Ottoman Empire did not allow a Muslim to convert but he could marry a woman of another religion even if she did not officially convert to Islam. 17 The legal procedure of conversion to Islam was simple: A Jewish or Christian girl who wanted to convert appeared before the shariah (Islamic law court) with two witnesses and announced her intention to become a Muslim. She stood in front of the mufti, declared the Muslim Credo: There is no God save God and Muhammad is God’s messenger. After that she presented herself for a talk with the chief rabbi or with the heads of the Orthodox/Bulgarian church of the city to declare that she had converted to Islam by choice and not by coercion.18 In most of the cases that were published in the press the legal procedure was not followed, and the girls did not meet with their parents or speak with the chief rabbi. In view of the numerous conversions of young girls and the feeling that the “Young Turks” government was more moderate and open to inter-religious negotiations, attempts were made by the heads of the religious communities in cooperation with the mufti and the Ministry of Justice to consult together and reach an agreement on a 16 Antti Oksanen, Abstract. 17 Woodberry, “Conversion to Islam”, pp. 22-40, in H. Newton Malony and Samuel Southard, Handbook of Religious Conversion, Birmingham, Alabama, Religious Education Press, 1992; Sophia, Laiou, “Christian Women in the Ottoman World”, in Women in the Ottoman Balkans: Gender, Culture and History, Amila Butrović and Irvin Cemil Schick (eds.), pp. 243-272, London and I.B.Tauris, New York 2007. 18 See above Note 3. 100 Gila Hadar method of action for cases of religious conversion. It seems, however, that even if this cooperation was successful at the higher religious levels in the larger cities, the qadis and the Muslims did what they considered was right and proper: they left the girls “illuminated by the light of Islam”. 19 Apparently, the authorities and the police took an active part in the conversion process. In two cases in Salonica and Edirne the Jewish girls were abducted by policemen.20 Crossing religious and ethnic boundaries generally disturbs conventions. Female conversions may raise even stronger reactions because traditions have often regarded women as symbols of ethnic and religious boundaries.21 It appears that the conversion of young girls to Islam was perceived as treason and desertion of the Jewish or Christian collective, an injury to the religious-national honor of the community, and a shame for the family that did not succeed in inculcating the values of Judaism or Christianity in the young girls.22 An examination of the efforts made by the heads of the communities to prevent the conversions of girls shows us that these community leaders did not struggle in order to prevent the conversion, and the only times a struggle was conducted was when the family of the girl engaged the press, took a lawyer, and—if they had European citizenship—applied to the consular representative of that country.23 19 “En Sivdad”, El Imparsial, September 1, 1911: “Una aksion del gran rabino”, El Imparsial, October 3, 1911. 20 “Las konversiones”, ibid, August 31, 1911; “The abduction of Sara Levi by the policeman Husni Yousuf; “Konversion Skandaloza”, El Imparsial, October 23, 1911. 21 Mirna Solić, “Women in Ottoman Bosnia as Seen Through the Eyes of Luka Botić, a Christian Poet”, in Women in the Ottoman Balkans: Gender, Culture and History, Amila Butrović and Irvin Cemil Schick (eds.), I.B.Tauris, London and New York 2007, pp. 307-334. 22 Jeorge Pitt-Rivers, “Honour and Social Status”, in J. G. Peristiany (ed.), Honour and Shame: The Values of Mediterranean Society, London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1965, pp. 19-78; on honour and shame in Muslim societies, see Lila Abu Lughod, Veiled Sentiments: Honour and Poetry in Bedouin Society, Berkeley, University of California Press, 1988; On the Ottoman Jewish context, see Yaron. Ben-Naeh, “Honor and its Meaning Among Ottoman Jews”, Jewish Social Studies 11, no. 2, (2005), 19-50. 23 El Imparsial, August 22, 1911, August 23, 1911, August 25, 1911, on the conversion of Buena E. Despite tremendous efforts, the authorities ignored the legal procedure and Buena disappeared beyond the veil. 101 Jewish Women’s Conversion to Islam in the End of the Ottoman Era Most of the girls who converted to Islam were from bereaved families (orphaned of father or mother), especially poor families.24 The attitude towards such girl converts can be learned from an article published in Thessaloniki in 1921 in concerning of a girl called Minorika,25 who had become Greek Orthodox. The derisive attitude towards girls who had converted is reflected in the heading of the article “Sɩk olsun” (“Fuck them”).26 The rude heading in Turkish, in the language of the street, was understood by all. The Turkish language was commonly spoken by Jews and Greeks, both the residents and the refugees. The article refers to a famous case of conversion in Salonica under Ottoman rule at the beginning of the twentieth century, when an Italian Christian girl, from a “good family” and a good house of ill-fame,27 decided to convert to Islam. The Italian consul who was present during the conversion process expressed his opinion as follows: “Me aze plazer ke vash a tener una mujer turka mas y ke va aver una pu...tifera manko entre muestras mujeres” [I have the pleasure of knowing that you will have another Turkish woman and there will be one less pu...tifera (prostitute) among our women].28 This situation is about girls who have converted to Islam or Christianity, as “girls of no value who do not constitute a loss to Judaism and therefore one should not fight for them. On the contrary, the conversion of girls like Minorika sifts the chaff and leaves the blessing—wheat flour. Only after the incorporation of the city into the Greek state were the conversion arrangements altered. The Chief Rabbi, Yaakov Meir, and the Greek Orthodox Metropolitan archbishop Genadius cooperated in order to prevent conversions. In 24 Kantarovich, Yehoshua. “Le-Hinuh Benotenu” [For the education of our girls], Ha- Mevasser 35-36 (1914), pp. 537-540 [in Hebrew]. See also “Religious Conversions”, El Avenir, April 2, 1909. In this article, the writer decries the fact that young Jewish girls from poor families work as domestic help in Greek and Turkish homes. 25 Minora in Ladino means small, and the diminutive “ka” is the little affectionate suffix usually added to the names of little children. In this case, the idea is to demean her. 26 El Kulevro, January 1, 1921, “Sɩk olson”. 27 On prostitution in Salonica, see Gila Hadar, “Prostitución: espacio, comunidad y nacionalidad en Salónica a fines del período otomano y después de él”, El Prezente: Studies in Sephardic Culture, 3 (2010), pp. 141-154; for Istanbul, see Rifat N. Bali, The Jews and Prostitution in Constantinople, 1854-1922, Istanbul, Gorgias Press & The Isis Press, 2008. 28 Above no. 26. 102 Gila Hadar January 1914, five girls retracted from their intention to convert to Christianity. The Greek Metropolite spoke to the girls about their reasons for conversion and sent them to reconsider their decision with the chief rabbi. The girls stayed at the home of Rabbi Meir, conversed with him, and met with their parents. After 24 hours, they girls returned to their families and to Judaism—they did not convert. But not every person in the community was enthusiastic about his devotion and actions to save the girls, most of whom were on the margins of society. One of the reactions to the girls’ retraction from conversion was “Triste konsolasion! Ke se puede esperar de bueno de ijas judiaske solo la difikultad de la conversion las izo trokar su idea?! [Translation: Small comfort! What good can be expected from Jewish girls who changed their minds only because of the difficulties that conversion imposed upon them]”.29 The Poetics of Mother’s Love Another source for the attitude towards the conversion of Jewish women is folk poetry. We will discuss two versions of a poem from the other side of the Aegean Sea, one from Izmir (Smirna) and the other from Crete, both in Ladino. These poems do not have a melody and there is no proof that they were put to music and sung. They were both published in 1921 in the period when Greeks ruled the city shortly before the “catastrophe”.30 The first poem has two versions, and it was addressed “to most of our girls who previously had associated with Muslims and today with Greeks”: “Al adreso de munchas de nuestras ijas ke mas antes eran dalaveras kon turkos i ke agora es lo mizmo kon gregos”.31 29 El Avenir, January 6, 1914. 30 On the Greek catastrophe and the exchange of population between Turkey and Greece, see Stephan Ladas, The Balkan Exchange of Minorities: Bulgaria, Greece and Turkey, New York, Macmillan, 1932; 31 El Meseret, December 1, 1921 (Ladino) 103 Jewish Women’s Conversion to Islam in the End of the Ottoman Era Evreopula de Izmir Un dia de Shabat, verso la tadrada Por la djuderia azia una paseada. Enkontri una mosa judia sola solika  le dishe “ven i azete kristianika Abandona tu Shabat i mi alhad sige”.  - Madre, un Grego me dize i me persige: “Ke deshe al shabat i el alhad ke resiva ke abandone todo i ke kon el yo biva”. Mijor dezeo verte kortada la garganta  Ke de azer ensulto a tu ley santa. Translation: On Saturday, towards evening I strolled through the Jewish quarter I met a Jewish girl walking alone I told her: Come and be a Christian Leave the Sabbath and keep Sunday. Mother, a Greek keeps telling me To stop keeping the Sabbath and make Sunday a holy day To leave everything and live with him. - I would prefer to see your neck broken And not shame our Holy Torah. Evreopula de Girit (Crete) Un Alhad demanyanika, en un dia muy ermozo, Me levanti del lecho, a la djudria me fui kon gozo: Enkontri una mosa djudia peynandose Kon un peyne de oro afeytandose, Antes ke yo kitara biervo de mi boka Eya se bolto para mi de amor loka. “Por mis dos ojos, tu sos mi deskojido!” Le respondi yo entonses: si me tuvites kojido, Abandona el shabat i el alhad adopta. Troka tu Pesah i la Paskalya aksepta. A mi madre se lo dire, disho eya -Madre, un Grego kere ke kon el me vayga, 104 Gila Hadar ke abandone el shabat i ke alhad lo aga, ke troke el pesah i labri ke aga. - Ija mia, mijor es ke te korte la espada i ke al djudaizmo no des la espalda. Translation: Sunday, a clear and beautiful day I rose from my bed and went to the Jewish quarter with joy: There I met a Jewish girl combing her hair With a beautiful golden comb. Before a word came out of my mouth She fell madly in love with me. -With both my eyes, you are the chosen one! And I answered her: If you chose me Leave the Sabbath and adopt Sunday Exchange Passover for Easter She said, I will tell my mother. -Mother, a Greek wants me to go with him I will stop keeping the Sabbath and make Sunday a holy day I will exchange Passover for Easter. My daughter, I would prefer to cut your throat Than let you turn your back to Judaism. The summary of the poem: A young Greek fellow is courting a Jewish girl. He suggests that she convert and marry him. The girl comes home and tells her mother. The reaction of the mother is sharp and clear: I would rather see your throat cut by a sword than you leaving Judaism. The source of these poems is from the Greek war of liberation in 1821.32 Omar Veronios Pasha33 gives Athanasios Diakos34 the choice between conversion and death.35 32 On the Greek war of independence, see David Brewer, The Greek War of Independence. The Overlook Press, New York 2001. 33 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Omer_Vryonis 34 http://diakos.snn.gr; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Athanasios_Diakos 35 In comparison to the legendary hero—Deacon Avacum in Serbian History and literature: “There is no better faith than Christian! A Serb is Christ’s, and rejoices in death”. See Bojan 105 Jewish Women’s Conversion to Islam in the End of the Ottoman Era Will you become a Turk , My Diakos And change your faith Worship in a djami – and leave the church. (For Diakos converting to Islam is death) and his answer is cut and clear: Go you and your faith, Turks, and get lost I was born Greek, I shall die a Greek. Look at the time Charon chose to take me, Now that the branches are flowering, And the earth sends forth grass.36 From the fact that most of the converts to Islam were young women of a marriageable age, it seems that one should not examine the phenomenon of religious conversion during the Ottoman period and in the Balkan nation-states only according to religious and national criteria, but according to gender and class criteria. In a poem written in Sarajevo, La Conversa (The Renegade Girl): Di adi vjerni di manjanika, ja si va ondi el pašá, Ke li de la lisensia ke turka si va aboltar. Di adi alhad di manjanika, ja si va ondi el haham, Ke li de la lisensia ke turka si va aboltar. Mandan a jamar padre I madre, k eli de la lisensia, Ke li de la lisensia ke turka se va aboltar. -Ajde, iǯa, aide, kerida, ajde torna en tešuva! Jo te tomare riku franko, ke pareska paregual. -Jo no kero ni riko ni franko, ni ke pareska paregual. Ke la alma tengo apegada kon el iǯo de el pašá. -Ajde, iǯos, ajde, keridos, asintemos en ješivá. Aleksov, “Adamant and Treacherous: Serbian Histories on Religious Conversions”, pp. 82-111, in Dennis Washburn and A. Kevin Reinhart (eds.), Converting Cultures: Religion, Ideology and Transformations of Modernity, Brill, Leiden 2007. 36 http://diakos.snn.gr/; http://en.wikipedis.org/wiki/Athanasios_Diakos. “Εγώ Γραικός γεννήθηκα, Γραικός θε να πεθάνω” transliterated as Ego Graikos yennithika, Graikos the na pethano. The next day he was impaled. According to popular tradition, as he was being led away to be executed, he said: Για δες καιρό που διάλεξε ο Χάρος να με πάρει, τώρα π’ ανθίζουν τα κλαριά και βγάνει η γης χορτάρι – Ya thes kero pou dialexe o Haros na me parei, tora p’ anthizoun ta klaria kai vganei i yis hortari). 106 Gila Hadar Komeremos pasas pretas, ke a Bea la van a entrarar. Enterada ke la veja a Beika de onor: Tuvjendo todo bueno en kaza, turka si hue a aboltar. -Non si sikleje, mi madre, ni si tome sehora. Aminjana es el djuzgo, kon revolver le vo dar. - Ni me daras, ni me tokaras, ni me ozas a matar, Ke jo tengo siete letras de il iǯo de el pašá. 37 The process of conversion of a young Jewish girl in love is described in stages, one step after another. On Friday morning, Bella goes to the pasha and asks his permission to become a Muslim. On Sunday she goes to the Rabbi and asks him to gives his approval. They send for her parents and ask their permission. The family tries to persuade the girl to marry a rich young Jew and to give up the idea of conversion and marrying the son of the pasha, but in vain. “Come on, dear daughter, repent! I will marry you to a rich European Jew”. Bella insists on her love. “My soul is attracted to the pasha’s son”. After the persuasion attempts have failed, the family conducts itself according to the Jewish rites of mourning, sitting shiva, eating black raisins, and lamenting her death (conversion is considered as death). As in the Ladino poem from Izmir, the person who raises the matter of physical death is the mother. And it is the brother who volunteers to carry out the murder of his sister and restore the honor of the family.38 But the girl in love has her own words and position. She refuses to die a physical death. She wants to celebrate her choice, her love and the new position as the wife of the son of the pasha for both honor and property, and warns the family that if they harm her they will suffer a bitter end. Additional poems dealing with religious conversions and the role of the mother in the process are the ballad on the girl from Salonica whose mother was angry at her for burning the stuffed grape leaves (yaprakes),39 and in North Africa, the widely known ballad about the girl who sacrificed her life as a martyr, Sol Hatchuel from Tangiers.40 37 Samuel G. Armistead and Joseph H. Silverman (eds.), Judeo-Spanish Ballads from Bosnia, song no. 21, La conversa, p. 88; See also Moshe Atias, Kansionero, song no. 135, p. 233. 38 On the concept of honor, see above Note 22. 39 Atias, Kansionero, song no. 134, p. 232; Elazar, El romancero judeo-español, “La kantika de Simbulaca”, p. 128. 40 http://ruthfullyyours.com/2011/08/07/in-old-morocco-the-tragedy-of-solica-hatchuel-a- young-women-beheaded-forrefusing-to-convert-to-islam/; Sharon Vance, The Martyrdom of a Moroccan Jewish Saint, Leiden, Brill 2011. 107 Jewish Women’s Conversion to Islam in the End of the Ottoman Era The mother of the Sol had strictly educated her for the tasks of a Jewish woman and the girl of 16 fled to the home of her Muslim neighbor. After a night spent at the neighbor’s house, Sol could no longer return to her home and her religion. The grave of Sol, who was executed for refusing to convert publicly, is located in Fez, and the ballad about the girl who refused to convert to Islam and preferred to die became a love song and sanctification of God through which mothers transmitted the maternal and religious message to their daughters. According to the Attachment Theory developed by J. Bowlby, the son of the pasha is the “person trusted” (the Attachment figure), and his love and affection are able to provide the girl a secure base and a haven of comfort, subtituting the insecure base of her family.41 Paula Hyman’s study on gender and assimilation in Jewish history suggested that Jewish women converted because they did not have the Jewish education to strengthen their own faith and identity.42 Up until the middle of the twentieth century, the construction of the social and emotional gender identity of the Sephardi Jewish girl thus took place within the private space––at home. Most women and girls did not know how to speak, read, or write Hebrew (the language of prayer and Torah study). They only spoke Ladino. Their household tasks were many and the perception was that girls were not required to study. They were in need of the guidance, warmth, and love that their mothers gave them in abundance. They therefore remained at home and learned the skills of motherhood: taking care of the children, cleaning the house, cooking, and such other feminine tasks such as spinning and weaving.43 41 On the Attachment Theory and Conversion, see J. Bowlby, Attachment and Loss, volume 1, Attachment, Harmondsworth, Penguin Books Ltd. 1969; idem, Making and Breaking of Affectional Bonds, London, Tavistock Publications, 1979; idem, Attachment and Loss, volume 3, Loss, Harmondsworth, Penguin Books Ltd., 1980; idem, A Secure Base, Parent- Child Attachment and Healthy Human Development, Basic Books Inc., New York 1988. 42 Paula Hyman, Gender and Assimilation in Modern Jewish History: The Roles and Representations of Women, University of Washington Press, Seattle; 1995; Marc Lee Raphael (ed.), Gendering the Jewish Past, Department of Religion, College of William and Mary, Williamsburg, VA 2002. 43 Gila Hadar, “Gender Representation on the Dark Side of Qidushin: Between North Morocco and the Balkans (Monastir)”, El Prezente: Studies in Sephardic Culture, 2 (2008), pp. 139-156. On mother’s love, see especially pp. 144-148. 108 Gila Hadar In a gender reading of the poems and the articles in the Jewish press on the subject of the conversion and marriage of young females, it appears that the mothers have a strong religious and national awareness, and the concept of “mother love” requires additional discussion.44 On the other hand, for girls of a marriageable age, religion and nationality were insignificant. They wanted to realize their existence as women, to experience love and desire in a legal manner—to get married, to be a bride, then a wife and mother. What hindered the girls from doing so in the framework of the community and nation? Ottoman Jewry was an urban, class-hierarchical society that valued pedigree and wealth. Tremendous importance was attributed to the social order and social distinctions in the public sphere and the individual lives of both Jews and non-Jews. Another obstacle to the marriage of young girls was that the oldest daughter was married off first (and received the largest dowry), followed by her sisters in descending order of age.45 The dowry was a prerequisite for marriage.46 The necessity of providing a dowry was 44 J. Bowlby, Attachment and Loss, p. 305. “The principal attachment figure and the subsidiary attachment figure are usually selected from amongst those who are close to the child. They are naturally the following: mother, father, other siblings and grandparents”; L. A. Kirkpatrick and P. R. Shaver, “Attachment Theory and Religion: Childhood Attachments, Religious Beliefs, and Conversion”, Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion, 29, no. 3 (1990), pp. 315-334; Antti Oksanen, Religious Conversion, p. 23. On the contrary, “Kirkpatrick discovered that those who were avoidantly attached to their mothers were the most likely candidates for sudden religious conversion”. 45 For the Greek Orthodox marriage system and dowry, see Eleonora Skouteri-Didaskalou, On Greek Dowry Spatiotemporal Transformations, Social Anthropology Thesis, London, 1976; Michael, Herzfeld, “The Dowry in Greece: Terminological usage and Historical Reconstruction”, Ethnohistory, 27, no. 3 (Summer 1980), pp. 225-241; Renee Hirschon, “Under One Roof: Marriage, Dowry and Family Relations in Piraeus”, in Urban Life in Mediterranean Europe, M. Kenny and D .I. Kertzer (eds.), University of Illinois Press, Urbana 1983, pp. 299-324; Jane Lambiri-Dimaki, “Dowry in Modern Greece: An Institution at the Crossroads between Persistence and Decline”, in The Marriage Bargain, M. Kaplan (ed.) Haworth Press, New York 1985, pp. 165-178. On the Jewish dowry system and marriage strategies, see Gila Hadar, “Gender Representation”, 139-156; idem, “Marriage as Survival Strategy among the Sephardic Jews of Saloniki, 1900-1943: Continuity and Change”, in El Presente: Studies in Sephardic Culture 1 (2007), pp. 209-225 [in Hebrew]. 46 The dowry tradition is also common among Greeks. The dowry is not only the transfer of property and bride, but also part of the system of “honor” and “disgrace”. On the meaning of the dowry in Greek culture, see Lambiri-Dimaki, “Dowry in Modern Greece”, pp. 109 Jewish Women’s Conversion to Islam in the End of the Ottoman Era the issue around which the life of any family that had been “cursed” with numerous daughters revolved. The equation was simple: a rich dowry meant a rich husband—a poor dowry, a poor husband—no dowry, no marriage. Usually, the girls married young men chosen by their parents (the preferred match being with someone within the family, such as a cousin). Sometimes a young girl would refuse to marry the chosen candidate and would, instead, follow the dictates of her heart and elope to the house of her lover. Meeting places with non-Jews were usually in the street, encounters at work, near the home, or stolen glances. Muslim men acted in greater freedom with Jewish and Christian girls than with Muslim girls, mainly for fear of being attacked and murdered by relatives of the Muslim girl.47 A relationship or “love” between Muslim men and Jewish girls also had a social and economic aspect. According to Islamic custom, the man paid the mehr (bride price) to the parents of the bride, and a young Muslim lad was also subject to the hierarchy of marriage for his elder brothers and sisters and had no chance of getting a wife at a young age.48 Therefore, the marriage of young and poor Muslim men to poor Jewish girls was an ideal solution for both sides (the couple and their parents). The man was exempt from providing a mehr, and the girl did not need to wait until all her elder sisters married or “until her hair turned white”, in order to realize her existence as a wife and mother. By marrying a young Muslim, they also realized a right that they would never have had—the right to choose. They chose a young husband who had chosen them in spite of their being poor and of no social or national value. Conversion and marriage were meant to fulfill the life of the girl herself. For a poor, young Jewish girl with no dowry, marrying a young Muslim, for attesting to the uniqueness of God and the apostleship of Muhammad49 was the only requirement, was often more attractive than remaining destitute, unmarried, and socially marginal. 165-78; Hirschon, “Under One Roof”, pp. 70-86; Paul Sant Cassia and Constantina Bada, The Making of the Modern Greek Family, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992, pp. 53, 74-76. 47 “Las konversiones”, El Imparsial, August 31,1911; “Konversion trafikada”, El Avenir, June 24, 1912; Harry Collinson-Owen, Salonica and After, p. 87. 48 Pierre Bourdieu, “Les Stratégies Matrimoniales dans le Système Reprodoction”, Annales (July 1972), pp. 1105-27; Violetta Hionidou, “Nuptiality Patterns and Household Structure on the Greek Island of Mykonos, 1849-1959”, Journal of Family History, 20 (1995), pp. 67-102. 49 Woodberry, “Conversion to Islam”, pp. 22-40. 110 Gila Hadar Conversion and marriage offered them a momentary amelioration in their social circumstances. Although they crossed boundaries they were caught up again in the same old feminine boundaries. Their lives as Muslim women did not differ from their lives as Jewesses. As in Judaism, Islam does not demand that women participate actively in religious life. And the Jewish adage “The realm of the princess’ honor is within”,50 which reflects a certain social order dictating a division of space between the genders, was valid in Islam as well the requirement to dress modestly, to remain at home, and to raise the children. The question of why young, poor women converted to Islam, although it does not lead us to a single and definite answer, invokes rather a complex contextual picture of identities and discourses. In the era of nationalism and the Balkan Wars, men were killed for national self-definition, land, religion and flag, while poor young girls converted to Islam and left national and religious pride in the masculine arena. 50 The Jewish adage “The realm of the princess’ honor is within” reflects a certain social order which dictates a division of space between the genders as expressed in the Ladino proverb “A good woman’s realm is to be found behind closed doors”. 111 Jewish Women’s Conversion to Islam in the End of the Ottoman Era 112 David M. Bunis Linguistics 113 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo 114 David M. Bunis From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo: The Ottoman Component as a Demarcating Factor David M. Bunis Center for Jewish Languages and Literatures, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem 1. Castilian of the three religious communities of medieval Spain In Spain of the Middle Ages, the distinct religious and cultural traditions of the country’s Christian, Muslim and Jewish inhabitants led to the rise of three distinctive co-territorial and contemporaneous varieties of Castilian.1 In original writing composed by members of these three speech communities, most of the grammatical features were shared. But in vernacular translations of their sacred texts, and even in original writing, certain other linguistic features were unique to each religious group. For one thing, each group wrote its vernacular in the alphabet taught in its religious schools and used in its most sacred religious texts: Christians, in the Roman alphabet of the Latin Bible and Catholic liturgy; Muslims, in the Arabic script of the Quran; and Jews, in the Hebrew letters of the Bible and Talmud.2 In translations of their sacred works, the Jews and Muslims employed calques and other syntactic constructions mirror- imaging the original Hebrew or Arabic sources, as well as archaizing grammatical forms lending an antique flavor. During the period of Jewish residence in Spain, the Spanish Catholic Church frowned upon translating the Bible into the vernacular; but the Jews cultivated a literal translation language, incorporating some rabbinical exegesis, into which boys were taught to translate sections of the Bible as part of 1 The research upon which the present article is based was supported by Israel Science Foundation grant 807/03, for which I hereby express my gratitude. 2 On the development of the Hebrew-letter orthography of Judezmo (or ‘Ladino’, or ‘Judeo- Spanish’) speakers, see David M. Bunis, “Writing as a Symbol of Religio-National Identity: On the Historical Development of Judezmo Spelling”, Pe‘amim 101-102 (2005), pp. 111-171 [in Hebrew]. 115 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo their elementary education.3 The translations were also used to a certain extent in the synagogue.4 As Muslims lost their knowledge of Arabic and adopted Ibero-Romance, they too began to translate their sacred texts into a distinctive Castilian. Furthermore, the distinct belief systems, cultural orientations, and everyday lifestyles of the members of each group led to the incorporation within their version of the vernacular of characteristic words and linguistic structures originating in their sanctified religious languages: Latin, among the Christians, Arabic among the Muslims, and Hebrew (and to a lesser degree Aramaic) among the Jews. Thus, for ‘prayer’ and related rituals, Catholics used words of Latin origin such as rezo ‘prayer’ (< rezar ‘to pray’ < L. recitāre),5 oficio ‘Catholic liturgy, religious service’ (< L. officĭum), and misa ‘mass’ (< L. missa); Muslims used Arabisms such as asalá ‘prayer’ (< A. al-ṣalā), adu(w)á ‘supplicatory prayer’ (< A. ad-du‘ā’), and addān ‘call to prayer (from the minaret)’ (< A. adān); and Jews employed Hebraisms such as tefilá ‘prayer’ (< H. tĕfilla), bakašoθ6 ‘supplications’ (< H. baqqašot), and selixoθ ‘penitential prayers’ (< H. sĕlīlḥot).7 Because of their religious orientation, the Muslims and Jews also rejected certain Castilian words the use of which might have been understood as an acceptance of Catholic beliefs and practices. For example, whereas Catholics denoted ‘Sunday’, the 3 On the oral transmission of the Ladino sacred-text translation tradition, see David M. Bunis, “Translating from the Head and from the Heart: The Essentially Oral Nature of the Ladino Bible-Translation Tradition”, in Hommage à Haïm Vidal Sephiha, Winfried Busse, Heinrich Kohring & Moshe Shaul (eds.), Peter Lang, Berne 1996, pp. 337-357. 4 See David M. Bunis, “Distinctive Characteristics of Jewish Ibero-Romance, Circa 1492”, Hispania Judaica Bulletin (Jerusalem 2004) 4, pp. 105-137. 5 The following abbreviations of language names are used in the present article: A. = Arabic, B. = Bulgarian, G. = Greek, H. = Hebrew, I. = Italian, L. = Latin, P. = Persian, SC. = Serbo- Croatian, T. = Turkish, V. = Venetian. 6 Note the values of the following special symbols used here in the transcription of Judezmo: č = ch (I.P.A. [ʧ]; d = th [ð] as in English that or, in some Judezmo dialects (e.g., Bosnia, Serbia), = d [d]; g = γ (as in Greek gamma), or in some Judezmo dialects, = g [g]; ǧ = j [ʤ] as in English jolly; ny = ñ [ɲ] as in Spanish año; š = sh [ʃ] as in English shop; θ = th [θ] as in English think, or in some Judezmo dialects, = t; x = ch [χ] as in German ach; ž = g [ʒ] as in French rouge. Stress in words ending in a consonant other than -n or -s/-z is final; it is penultimate in other words. Irregular stress is indicated by an acute accent. 7 For a characterization of the Hebrew-Aramaic component of pre-Expulsion Jewish Ibero- Romance, see David M. Bunis, A Lexicon of the Hebrew and Aramaic Elements in Modern Judezmo, Magnes Press, Jerusalem 1993, pp. 17-20. 116 David M. Bunis Christian day of rest, by domingo, from Latin dominicus dies (with its reference to Jesus as ‘Lord’), Muslims tended to reject that term in favor of Hispano-Arabic-origin al-ḥadd, meaning simply ‘the first (day)’, and a reflex of the same word, pronounced [alˈxað], was also used by the Jews. In the last case, this was a preservation of the word which had been used by the Jewish Ibero-Romance speakers’ Judeo-Arabic- speaking ancestors, before the Jewish communities of Spain made the transition to Ibero-Romance following the re-conquest of parts of Spain by the Christians. 2. Judezmo in the Ottoman Empire: Historical periods In 1492, both Muslims and Jews were officially expelled from Spain. Although some Muslims were able to continue residing in the country for more than a century, most Iberian Muslims made their way back to their ancestral homeland in North Africa and became integrated within its Arabic speech community, thus putting an end to their communal use of a distinctive Castilian. Some of the expelled Jews also crossed the Mediterranean southward to North Africa; but most found refuge in the Ottoman Empire, at the invitation of Sultan Bayezid II. For the descendants of the Spanish Jews in both these regions, the period during which their ancestors in Spain had made use of a distinctive Castilian proved to be but the first of three periods in the development of unique Jewish languages which to this day continue to enjoy some use, in the states carved out of the Ottoman Empire, in Morocco, and in immigrant communities in Israel, Europe, the Americas, and elsewhere. In the Ottoman regions, the Sephardim or ‘Jews of Iberian ancestry’ came to refer to their evolved form of Jewish Castilian as ǧudezmo or ǧu-/ǧidyó, that is ‘Jewish’,8 paralleling the use of terms used by the Turks such as çıfıt, Yahudice, Musevice, and others denoting the language as ‘Jewish’, and the analogous terms used by other non-Jewish groups of the empire, e.g., jevrejski in the languages of the South Slavs. In Morocco, the language of the Sephardim was referred to popularly as Ḥaketía. In Spain, as was noted, the Jewish variety of Castilian had been distinguished from its Muslim and Christian counterparts primarily through its incorporation of elements 8 See David M. Bunis, “Native Designations of Judezmo as a ‘Jewish Language’”, in Studies in Language, Literature and History Presented to Joseph Chetrit, Yosef Tobi & Dennis Kurzon (eds.), Haifa University, Haifa & Carmel, Jerusalem 2011, pp. *41-81. 117 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo from Hebrew and Aramaic. Following the Expulsion of 1492 the evolving Judezmo of the Ottoman regions became increasingly distinct from the varieties of Spanish spoken in Spain and South America not only because of its growing Hebrew and Aramaic component,9 but also as a result of the openness of its speakers to their Ottoman surroundings, and particularly the varieties of urban Turkish, Greek, South Slavic, and other languages spoken by their non-Jewish neighbors in Istanbul, Salonika, Izmir, Sarajevo, Belgrade, Sofia, and many other Ottoman cities and towns. In retrospect, the first, pre-Expulsion stage of incipient Judezmo may be called the Old Judezmo Period. With the Expulsion and the re-settling of most of the Sephardim in the Ottoman Empire, the language underwent two additional historical stages, which may be called the Middle Judezmo Period, and the Modern, Late or New Judezmo Period.10 Each of these periods may be further divided into sub-periods. In earlier work, I demonstrated how these periods may be distinguished using the criteria of phonology, or the sound system, morphology, or grammatical forms, and syntax, or word order. In the present article I shall focus on changes in the component structure of the language as an additional marker of the transition from one historical stage to another. More precisely, I will discuss the early historical development of the Ottoman component of Judezmo as one of the primary ingredients in the creation of the unique Ottoman or Turkish-Balkan Sephardic Jewish subculture. Because of space limitations, I will confine the present discussion to developments occurring between the Early Middle and Late Middle periods of Ottoman Judezmo. It should be noted that my observations will be based on texts surviving from the mid- sixteenth through late eighteenth centuries. All of the sources are rabbinical works in Judezmo or Hebrew, published in Istanbul, Salonika, or Izmir, as well as at some presses in Italy. Due to the types of texts available, and the specific topics addressed in them, it is possible that the linguistic picture they present does not correspond exactly to the living language as used by the speech community during their periods of publication. But for the period under discussion, these are the principal sources at our disposal. 9 For an attempt at an exhaustive lexical inventory, see Bunis, Lexicon (Note 7 above). 10 For some further details on historical periodization, see David M. Bunis, Lexicon (Note 7 above), pp. 17-47; ibid., Judezmo: An Introduction to the Language of the Ottoman Sephardim, Magnes Press, Jerusalem 1999 [in Hebrew], pp. 20-38. 118 David M. Bunis 3. The Middle Judezmo Period and the rise of the Ottoman component11 In earlier attempts to delineate the historical periodization of Judezmo, I suggested that the Middle Judezmo Period had started immediately with the establishment of most of the Sephardim in the Ottoman Empire at the end of the fifteenth century and lasted until around 1790. During that period, the language’s Hispanic component started to undergo independent development, relatively free of influence from peninsular Spanish. Furthermore, the language’s Hebrew-Aramaic component enjoyed significantly greater representation in written Judezmo than in the former period. It was during this period too that the Ottoman component of Judezmo began to take shape—indicative of intensive interaction between the Sephardic immigrants in the Empire and their non-Jewish neighbors, including speakers of Turkish proper, as well as of Balkan languages such as Greek, Serbo-Croatian, Bulgarian, and Romanian, which had themselves by this time undergone significant influence from Turkish, and would continue to do so in subsequent centuries. It is well known that, when the Ottomans took possession of the Balkans and part of the Middle East beginning in the late thirteenth century—long before the arrival of the Sephardim in the region—few of the indigenous peoples abandoned their ethnic and/or religious languages in favor of Turkish as their in-group language. Rather, until the dismemberment of the Ottoman Empire, its diverse non-Turkish ethnic groups continued to use their own, albeit somewhat Turkicized, languages within their communities, and reserved the use of Turkish proper for interaction with the Ottoman authorities, and for communication with other groups in the Empire who did not speak their own ethnic tongue. The Sephardim who reached the shores of the Empire at the end of the fifteenth century adapted themselves to this pre-existing pattern of religio-ethnic language loyalty within a broad framework of ethnic heterogeneity and multilingualism. The Sephardim maintained their own ethnic languages for in-group use during the next five centuries: Judezmo for everyday speech and for writing aimed at a popular audience, and Hebrew as the principal language of liturgy and high-level rabbinical scholarship. From 1492 until the establishment throughout the Ottoman Empire of the 11 The term ‘Ottoman component’ is used here in the sense of linguistic material derived from Turkish and other languages of the Ottoman Empire, including material etymologically from Turkish, Arabic, Persian, Greek, South Slavic, and other linguistic sources. 119 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo network of French-language schools sponsored by the Paris-based Alliance Israélite Universelle, founded in 1860, no foreign languages were taught in the Jewish schools of the Empire, just as non-Islamic languages were not taught in its Muslim religious schools. As a group, the Empire’s Jews did not begin the formal study of Turkish or other local national languages until the late nineteenth century. It was only with the proclamation of the Turkish Republic, for example, that, in apparent identification with the goals of the Republic, and under pressure from the Turkish population and its authorities to participate in the transformation of the new state into a linguistically homogeneous nation, the Jews of Modern Turkey as a group began to shift to Turkish as their primary spoken and written language, studied formally in school. Mutatis mutandis, the same is true of the Sephardim of the South Slavic lands, who began to adopt languages such as Serbian and Bulgarian in the late nineteenth century, and Greece, where Sephardim made efforts to master Greek primarily after 1912, when Salonika was annexed to Greece during the First Balkan War. This does not mean, however, that the Jews of the Ottoman Empire had no knowledge of Turkish or other non-Jewish languages used within the empire before the start of its dismemberment. Quite the contrary, in order to ensure their everyday livelihood and the maintenance of satisfactory relations with their neighbors and the official regime, most Jewish men, the majority of whom engaged in commerce, had to have a basic familiarity with popular spoken Turkish, as well as other non-Jewish languages. We learn from the rabbinical responsa of the Ottoman rabbis that, even before the nineteenth century, not only Jewish men but also Jewish women were able to communicate in Turkish to some extent with their non-Jewish neighbors. Whether or not identical in sounds, grammar and syntax with the varieties of Turkish used by the Gentile neighbors themselves, the popular-level Turkish used by Jews in interaction with their neighbors over time became an increasingly rich source of borrowings in their everyday Judezmo. By the middle of the twentieth century, Rabbi Michael Molho, a historian of the Salonika community, estimated that popular spoken Judezmo contained some 2,000 elements of Ottoman origin.12 In texts from the sixteenth through twentieth centuries, some 5,000 such elements have thus far been documented as part of the Historical Lexicon of the Turkish Component of Judezmo project, which I began to undertake in 1996 with the support of a grant from the Israel Science Foundation. 120 David M. Bunis 4. Language of the Romaniote Jews as an early source of Ottomanisms in Judezmo In the early stages of the re-settlement of the Jewish refugees from Spain in the cities and towns of the Ottoman Empire, assistance was received from the Judeo- Greek-speaking Jews of the veteran Romaniote community, already resident in the region from Byzantine times.13 It is probably with the help of Romaniote Jews that the immigrants from Spain began to become acquainted with the Turkish language and the Ottoman milieu. Thus, in incorporating linguistic material of Ottoman origin into incipient Ottoman Judezmo, there may at first have been some competition between the forms of Turkisms employed by the Romaniotes in Judeo-Greek and those which the Sephardim heard in the speech of Turks. For example, in a responsum from Constantinople, 1519,14 by the Romaniote rabbi, Eliyyahu Mizraḥi (HaRe’em, Constantinople c. 1450-1526), the ‘chiefs of a neighborhood’ are referred to both as maxalábašís <‫ >מחלבשיש‬and as maxalábašídes <‫>מחלבשידיס‬.i15 The first form corresponds to Turkish mahalle (< A. maḥalla) başı, pluralized with Hispanic-origin -s; the second form incorporates the Greek plural ‑des, used with borrowings of Turkish 12 Michael Molho, “Penetración de extranjerismos en el español de Oriente”, Presente y futuro de la lengua española, vol. 1, Cultura Hispánica, Madrid 1964, pp. 325-334 (esp. p. 330). 13 For historical background on the group, see Joseph R. Hacker, “The Jewish Community of Salonica from the Fifteenth to the Sixteenth Century”, Ph.D. diss., Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1978 [in Hebrew]; Mark Alan Epstein, The Ottoman Jewish Communities and their Role in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries, Klaus Schwarz, Freiburg 1980; Joseph Hacker, “Ottoman Policies Towards the Jews and Jewish Attitudes Towards Ottomans During the Fifteenth Century, in Benjamin Braude & Bernard Lewis (eds.), Christians and Jews in the Ottoman Empire, vol. 1, Holmes & Meier, New York 1982, pp. 117-125; Steven Bowman, The Jews of Byzantium 1204-1453, University of Alabama Press, Tuscaloosa, Alabama 1985; Minna Rozen, History of the Jewish Community in Istanbul: The formative Years,1453-1566, Brill, Leiden & Boston 2002. On the language of the Romaniotes, see Paul Wexler, “Recovering the Dialects and Sociology of Judeo-Greek in Non-Hellenic Europe”, in Joshua A. Fishman (ed.), Readings in the Sociology of Jewish Languages, Brill, Leiden 1985, pp. 227-240; Mary C. Connerty, Judeo-Greek: The Language, The Culture, Jay Street Publishing, New York 2003. 14 The dates offered in the present article in citations of rabbinical works in Judezmo and Hebrew are the Gregorian correspondents of the Hebrew years actually appearing in the works. 15 Eliyyahu Mizraḥi, Tĕšuvot šĕ’elot [...] ’Eliyya Mizraḥi, Constantinople 1560 (republished Jerusalem 1938), no. 15. 121 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo origin having a final stressed vowel.16 Similarly, in one of the responsa of Sephardic Rabbi Ḥayyim Šabbĕtay (=Maharḥaš, Salonika, before 1555-1647), an Ottoman ‘memorandum’ or ‘document’ was denoted as a teskyeré <‫>טישקיירי‬, closely reflecting Turkish tezkere (< A. taẕkira);17 but in another of his responsa we find the plural form deskeredes <‫>דישקירידיש‬,i18 reflecting its Greek reflex, sg. deskerés, pl. deskerédes.19 In the instance of these two borrowings—and many others which will be cited below— our sources are Ottoman Sephardic rabbinical texts in Hebrew. However, the plural forms with Hispanic-origin ‑s, rather than with a Hebrew or Turkish plural morpheme, demonstrate that they were incorporated into Ottoman Sephardic rabbinical Hebrew from Judezmo, and thus must be seen primarily as Ottoman borrowings in Judezmo. 5. Triumph of the spoken Turkish forms By the Late Middle Judezmo period, which in earlier work I suggested had begun as late as 1728, the Jews of Iberian origin in the Ottoman Empire as a group had gained considerable familiarity with Turkish proper, and the Turkish borrowings in Judezmo now tended to correspond only to their Turkish forms, rather than to their reflexes in Greek or other Balkan languages. Thus, in Judezmo texts from this period on, ‘memorandum’ or ‘document’ is denoted only by teskyeré <‫ >טישקיירי‬in the singular and teskyerés <‫ >טישקייריש‬in the plural—the latter form created through the addition of the Spanish-origin plural suffix ‑s, without any trace of the earlier Judeo-Greek variant.20 16 For examples of the use of -des in Greek, especially with borrowings from Turkish, see Geoffrey C. Horrocks, Greek: A History of the Language and its Speakers, John Wiley & Sons, West Sussex 2010, 2d ed., pp. 287-288. 17 “Le diše, ‘Vos daré teskyeré <‫ >טישקיירי‬de·las dos vandas bitireada’” ‘I told him, “I’ll give you a completed authorization from both sides”’ (Ḥayyim Šabbĕtay, Sefer torat ḥayyim, vol. 1, Salonika 1713 [republished Jerusalem 2003], no. 82, from Chios). Here and in the following footnotes, I offer the earliest documentation of the Judezmo Ottomanisms I have encountered in Judezmo or Ottoman Sephardic Hebrew sources. 18 "‫] ובקש מאת היהודי להראות לו דישקירידיש‬...[ ‫‘ "בא פקיד המלך‬The clerk of the king [...] came and asked the Jew to show him a document’ (Ḥayyim Šabbĕtay, Sefer torat ḥayyim, vol. 2, Salonika 1715 [republished Jerusalem 2003], Addenda, no. 2). 19 Cf. pl. deskerédes (e.g., http://www.rizitiko.org/etimologia1.html#alfa; http://topontiki.gr/ Articles/view/6265); http://siatista.blogspot.com/2009_07_01_archive.html). 20 E.g., in Hebrew contexts, plural teskerés <‫ >תישקיריש‬in Moše ben Mordĕxay Galante (b. Rome, 16th century, d. Safed, after 1612), Sefer šĕ’elot utšuvot […] Moše Galante, 122 David M. Bunis In certain instances, the Early Middle Judezmo adaptations of Turkish words with certain final consonants or consonant clusters prohibited in that position in Spanish had an ‑e or ‑i added at the end. The paragogic -e/-i produced forms which were acceptable according to Spanish phonological tendencies; such forms, however, may also have been influenced by Judeo-Greek reflexes in which -is (in the nominative case) was added to the Turkish bases. For example, Turkish hüccet (from Arabic ḥuǧǧa[t], through Persian), carrying senses such as ‘title deed, property deed of a real estate asset; document’, and having word-final consonant -t which is prohibited in Spanish phonology, is reflected in one responsum of Rabbi Šĕmu’el de Medina (Maharašdam, Salonika, 1506-1589) as xoǧete/-i <‫>חוג'יטי‬,i21 and in another, as xoǧet <‫>חוגי"ט‬,i22 The first variant may be compared with the Ottoman Greek reflex xotséti,23 while the word-final consonant in the second form corresponds to the Turkish form hüccet Venice 1608 (republished Jerusalem 1960), no. 84; and in Yošiyyahu Pinto (Syria, c. 1565- 1648], Nivḥar mikesef, Aleppo 1869 (reprinted New York 1984), no. 91; and teskyerés <‫ >טישקייריש‬in ’Avraham ben Moše de Botón (Salonika, 1545?-1588), Sefer leḥem rav, Izmir 1660 (republished Jerusalem 1968), no. 209; and Yĕḥi’el Basan (b. Rhodes, 1550, d. Constantinople 1625), Šĕ’elot utšuvot, Constantinople 1737, no. 73. In Judezmo contexts one finds plural teskerés <‫ >טיסקיריס‬in Raḥamim Mĕnaḥem Mitrani, Sefer mecam locez: Yĕhošuac, vol. 1, [Salonika] 1849, f. 98b; teskyerés <‫ >טיסקייריס‬in ’Eliyyahu Ǧaxón (ed.), Sefer mĕzakke ’et harabbim, Salonika c. 1850, f. 13b; tezkerés <‫ >טיזקיריס‬in El lunar (Salonika 1865), p. 22. 21 The vowel qualities are not specified in the Hebrew-letter texts, which use vav <‫ >ו‬for both o and u, and yod <‫ >י‬for both e and i, and thus the vowel qualities are uncertain. The vocalization xoǧét is offered by Joseph Nehama, Dictionnaire du judéo-espagnol, C.S.I.C., Madrid 1977, p. 256. In vocalized Hebrew-letter Judezmo texts, and in texts in romanization, the final paragogic vowel is denoted as e; e.g., Ṣaddiq ben Yosef Formón (tr.), Baḥye ibn Paquda, Sefer ḥovat halĕvavot bĕlacaz, Salonika c. 1568, sec. 2, f. 88a: kušáke <‫‘ >קוּשַאקֵי‬sash’ < T. kuşak. 22 Šĕmu’el de Medina, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Maharašdam, Salonika 1596 (reprinted Lemberg 1862), Ḥošen mišpaṭ, no. 15 <‫ >חוג'יטי‬xoǧete/‑i; the form xoǧete/‑i also appears in ’Eliyyahu Ben Ḥayyim (=Ra’anaḥ, b. Edirne 1530?-1610?), Ḥeleq rišon mitĕšuvot šĕ’elot, vol. 1, Constantinople (bet. 1603-1617) (reprinted Jerusalem 1984), no. 53. The variant <‫ >חוג'י"ט‬xoǧet appears in the aforementioned De Medina, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Maharašdam, ’Oraḥ ḥayyim, no. 114. Both variants appear in De Medina, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Maharašdam, Ḥošen mišpaṭ, no. 265. 23 For an example of use see http://androsdocs.ims.forth.gr/search_results.php?from_ date=1625&search_muslim=&search_term=&search_type=%CE%A7%CE%BF%CF%8 4%CE%B6%CE%AD%CF%84%CE%B9&to_date=1821&l=2. 123 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo itself. But following the early seventeenth century—i.e., a century before the start of the period I had earlier defined as the Late Middle Judezmo period—the Judezmo reflexes of these words tended to lack the final ‑e/-i, and thus, in the instance of most such Turkish borrowings in Judezmo, only the forms reflecting the final sequence in Turkish survived. For example, following the early seventeenth century, only xoǧet— and variant oǧet, to be discussed in section 7 below—appeared in Ottoman Sephardic documents in Hebrew and Judezmo.26 This again marks the triumph of the Turkish over the Hispanized or Grecized forms. 6. Extension of the Ottoman Component: Expansion of the semantic domains 6.1 Early Middle Judezmo Period As typically occurs when speakers of a language relocate to a new region and come into contact with the language of a dominant group characterized by a highly developed culture, as was the case with the encounter between the Jews from Iberia and the Turks of the Ottoman Empire, the predominant class of Ottoman words which began to be borrowed by the newcomers was common nouns referring to the civilization of the reigning group. In the Early Middle Judezmo period, most borrowings were related to what was for the Sephardim a new, unique milieu: the Ottoman administrators and institutions, which came to be referred to by words such as b-/pašá ‘pasha, the highest title of civil and military officials; governor of a province’ (< T. paşa),25 and pašalík ‘the quality, rank and function of a pasha; territory governed by him’ (< T. 24 E.g., “Dan les dará xoǧet <‫ >חו'גיט‬de resivido” ‘Dan will give them a deed of receipt’ (’Ahăron ben Yosef Śaśon [b. Salonika 1550/5, d. Constantinople 1626], Torat ’emet, Venice 1626 [republished Jerusalem 1970], no. 132). 25 E.g., “Una nave del bašá” ‘A ship of the pasha’ (Yosef Ben Lev [=Maharival, b. Monastir 1505, d. Constantinople 1580], Šĕ’elot utšuvot, vol. 1, Constantinople [1561] [reprinted Jerusalem 1988], no. 9, from 1549); “Era el pašá <‫ >פאג'ה‬vekil mutlak de todas sus fazyendas ‘The pasha was the unconditional [cf. T. mutlak < A. muṭlaq] agent [cf. T. vekil < A. wakīl] with regard to all his properties’ (Yacăqov ben Moše Be Rav [b. Maqueda (Spain), c. 1474, d. Safed, 1546], Sefer šĕ’elot utšuvot […] Yacăqov Be Rav, Venice 1663 [reprinted Jerusalem 1958], no. 25); Cynthia M. Crews, “One Hundred Medical Recipes in Judeo-Spanish of ca 1600”, Revue des Etudes Juives 126 [1967], pp. 203-263 [p. 249]. 124 David M. Bunis paşalık);26 the monetary units of the empire, e.g., pará ‘one fortieth of a piastre’27 (< T. para < P. pāre), axčá/akčé ‘small silver coin worth a third of a pará’ (< T. akçe);28 its foods (yufkás ‘thin layers of pastry dough; baked good made from that dough’ (< T. yufka),29 yagúrte/‑i ‘yogurt’ (< T. yağurt, and cf. G. yaoúrti );32 its distinctive articles of clothing (fereǧé ‘roomy, usually dark-colored, long coat’ (< T. ferace < A. farāǧa), kaplamá ‘kind of jacket’ [< T. kaplama]);33 and other elements of material culture specific to the Ottoman scene. Elements of Hebrew origin continued to provide the terminology for Jewish religious life. However, most of the Ibero-Arabic terminology relating to Islam and the Hispanic-origin terms for practices relating to Christianity that the Jews had used in Iberia were either completely replaced or supplemented by elements of Turkish, Persian, Greek, South Slavic, and other local languages in the Ottoman regions. With reference to Islam, the Ottoman borrowings included terms such as ǧamí32 ‘mosque’ 26 E.g., “Por ser sivdad grande i afamada i tener debašo de si mučas otras sivdades i vi(l) yas, la (h)izo tambyén pašalik” ‘Because of its being a large and famous city and having under it many other cities and villages, they also made it a pasha-governed territory’ (Moše Almosnino [Salonika, c. 1515–c. 1580], Pilar Romeu (ed.), Moisés Almosnino: Crónica de los Reyes Otomanos, Tirocinio, Barcelona 1998, p. 113). 27 E.g., “Kyes ganar una pará, vyen darás un eduθ” ‘If you want to earn a fortieth of a piaster, come testify’ (Yacaqov Ḥana, in ’Ahăron ben Ḥayyim ’Avraham Hakohen Pĕraḥya [b. Salonika 1627?, d. 1697], Paraḥ maṭṭe ’Aharon, vol. 3, Amsterdam 1703 [republished New York 1992], no. 42, from Salonika 1685). 28 E.g., "‫‘ "במעות המזוייפים הנקרא קאלפ אחג'א והמה עשויים קלים יותר‬in the counterfeit coins called kalp axčá [cf. T. kalp (< A. qalb) ak-/ahçe] and they are made lighter’ (De Medina, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Maharašdam [Note 22 above], ’Oraḥ ḥayyim, no. 124). 29 E.g., "‫[ היופקאש שעושין בזה הדרך‬...]" ‘The flaky pastry goods which they make in the following way [...]’ (Šĕmu’el de Medina, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Maharašdam, Salonika 1585, I, no. 26). 30 E.g., "‫‘ "חלב חמוץ הנקרא' יגורט"י‬sour milk called yagurte/‑i’ (Barux ben Šĕlomo Qala‘i [d. Salonika 1597], Sefer mĕqor barux, Izmir 1659 [republished Jerusalem 1992], no. 68, from Ioanina 1579). 31 E.g., “‘Amar lo hatogar ‘Hayá lo un fereǧé i un kaplamá eskuro’” ‘The Turk told him, “He had a robe-like garment and a dark jacket”’ (De Medina, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Maharašdam [Note 22 above], ’Even hacezer, no. 53, from 1543). (In the Salonika 1581 edition this is no. 80, and only the fereǧé is mentioned.) Note that the testimony of a Turk is reconstructed here, in a blend of Hebrew and Judezmo, by a Jew who probably tried to replicate the Turk’s terminology. 32 E.g., "‫‘ "בית במסילת היהודים והיא קרובה לגאמ"ע דהיינו בית תפיל"ת תוגרמי‬a house in the Jewish quarter near the small mosque, i.e, Muslim house of prayer’ (Galante, Šĕ’elot utšuvot [Note 20 above], no. 28). 125 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo (T. cami < A. ǧāmi‘; cf. also J. meškita < S. mezquita < A. masǧid), kadí33 ‘Muslim judge, religious authority’ (< T. kadı < A. qāḍī; vs. J. dayán ‘Jewish judge’ < H. dayyan, religiously unmarked ǧwes ‘judge’ < S. juez), kindí34 ‘(time of the) Muslim afternoon prayer’ (< T. ikindi; vs. J. minxá < H. minḥa ‘Jewish afternoon prayer’), bayrán/-m35 ‘Muslim religious holiday’ (< T. bayram; vs. J. moed ‘Jewish holiday’ < H. mo‘ed). Terminology relating to Christianity often originated in Greek and South Slavic, although the Judezmo reflexes often suggest Turkish rather than those languages as the immediate source; for example, paskalyá36 ‘Easter (of the Greek Orthodox)’ (cf. T. paskalya < G. pasxaliá), papás37 ‘Christian (esp. Greek Orthodox) priest’ (cf. T. papaz/-s < G. pappás).38 33 E.g., “No te estorves en ninguna sensya salvo en sensya ke te onren la ǧente, i te kyeran byen los […] bašás i los kadís i los muderizes” ‘Do not concern yourself with any field of knowledge except that which will cause people to honor you, and bring you the respect of [...] the princes [cf. T. başa] and Muslim religious judges and the members of the ulema [cf. T. müderris < A. mudarris]’ (Formón, Ḥovat halĕvavot [Note 21 above], f. 2:67a). 34 E.g., "‫] בשעת מנחה בשעת קי"נדי‬...[ ‫‘ "יום ראשון‬Sunday at the time of the [Jewish] afternoon prayers, at the time of the Muslim afternoon prayers’ (Yiṣḥaq Adarbi [b. Salonika, c. 1510], Divre rivot, Salonika 1581 [reprinted Jerusalem 1989], no. 4, from 1553); “despwés de kindí” ‘after the Muslim afternoon prayers’ (Yom Ṭov Ṣahalon [b. Safed, c. 1559, d. 1620], Šĕ’elot utšuvot Mahari”ṭ Ṣahalon haḥadašot, annotated by Y. Boksboym, M. Ben Šim‘on & M. Rubenstein, two vols., Jerusalem 1980, no. 25b, from Izmir 1617). 35 E.g., "‫‘ "ביום שהיה באיירן‬On a day that was a Muslim holiday’ (Yosef Karo [b. Toledo, 1488, d. Safed, 1575], Šĕ’elot utšuvot Bet Yosef […] ’Even hacezer, Salonika 1598 [reprinted Jerusalem 1960], Goy meśiaḥ lĕfi tummo, no. 2, from 1551). Note that the sixteenth- century Judezmo variant reflex bayrán, with final ‑n corresponding to Turkish ‑m, may be understood as an accommodation to Hispanic phonology; but the Greek reflex bayráni must also be taken into consideration as a possible influence. 36 E.g., “Partyeron de aí […] ǧidyós […] antes de la paskalyá” ‘Jews left there before Easter’ (Ḥayyim Šabbĕtay [d. 1647], Sefer šĕ’elot utšuvot hašayyaxot lĕṭur ’Even hacezer, 2 vols., Salonika 1651 [reprinted Jerusalem 1970], no. 35, from Salonika 1632). 37 E.g., "‫‘ "כל הגדולים של העכו"ם והפאפ"ס של הערלים‬All of the important people of the idol worshippers and the priest of the Christians’ (Moše ben Yosef Mitrani [=Hamabbiṭ, Salonika 1500-1580], Sefer šĕ’elot utšuvot Mabbiṭ, vol. 2, part 2, Venice 1629-30 [reprinted Jerusalem 1990], no. 188). 38 On some religiously marked lexical correspondents in Judezmo, see Sarah Benor, “Lexical Othering: How Ottoman Sephardim Refer to Non-Jews”, in David M. Bunis (ed.), Languages and Literatures of Sephardic and Oriental Jewry, Misgav Yerushalayim & Bialik Institute, Jerusalem 2009, pp. *65-85. 126 David M. Bunis 6.2 Late Middle Judezmo Period In the Early Middle Judezmo period, the Sephardim of the Ottoman Empire continued to use Hispanisms to denote most elements of realia which they had already known in Spain. But by the Late Middle Judezmo period—which in this respect now appears to have begun as early as the second half of the seventeenth century—Ottomanisms had begun to take the place of some of these as well. 6.2.1 Flora, fauna, and their derivatives An illustration of the extention of the semantic fields to which Turkish and other languages of the Ottoman Empire contributed to Judezmo from this period on is the significant replacement by Ottomanisms of the Hispanic-origin names previously used for some of the raw fruits, vegetables, flowers, and nuts, as well as seafood, and the substances and foods derived from them, which had commonly been found in Spain. In the Ottoman Empire, agriculture was primarily in the hands of the Turkish and other peasantry, who spoke Turkish and other local languages; and Greeks engaged in fishing. Through direct interaction with their Gentile neighbors in market places, coffee houses and taverns, and at street vendors’ stands, and with non-Jews who worked in their homes, Jews acquired knowledge of the Ottoman terminology relating to foods and their preparation. Thus it was natural for Judezmo speakers to borrow terms from the neighboring peoples relating to agriculture, seafood, cuisine, and the like, and even to adopt their dishes, when adapted to Jewish dietary laws. Some of the earliest examples of this incorporation are found in the classic, multi- volume Judezmo anthology of biblical exegesis, Mecam locez, initiated by Rabbi Yacaqov Xulí (b. Jerusalem? 1689?, d. Constantinople 1732).39 Many of the terms appear in Xulí’s first volume, on Genesis (Istanbul 1730), and in his treatment of the first half of Exodus (Istanbul 1733). In the latter volume they are especially pivotal in the author’s discussions of the Passover holiday, such as the preparation of vessels for holiday use, and the suitability of specific foods for consumption during the holiday. Additional terms appear in other culinary-related contexts, such as the proper benediction required before and after the consumption of specific foods, and their preparation, and serving and storage methods. 39 Numerous food and and especially drug substances are already documented in the Judezmo manuscript from the Ottoman Empire, written around 1600, published by Cynthia M. Crews (“One Hundred Medical Recipes” [Note 25 above]). But most of these terms were probably known only to popular medical practitioners and druggists, whereas the terms appearing in Xulí’s works were probably known to the average Judezmo speaker of his time. 127 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo Of particular interest is the fact that Xulí (and other authors) occasionally note the Turkish origin of the borrowings (e.g., “dudaim en el kanpo, ke es una yerva ke se yama en turkesko yasmín” [see number 8 below]), and state that certain foods are actually ‘called’ (J. se yama, H. niqra) by Ottoman names, or various rare food terms ‘mean’ (keren dezir) the foods currently known by those names, as opposed to synonyms of Hispanic origin, which were apparently used in older literary texts known to the authors but were no longer used in everyday speech (e.g., “El tabako ke lo yaman burnú tutún” [see no. 2 below], “Los garvansos ke se yaman leblebizes” [no. 17], “salamura ke se yama truší” [no. 20], “poros, kere dezir prasa” [no. 21]). In the following list, Ottoman-origin terms for raw food substances appearing in Xulí’s volumes are noted. Unless otherwise indicated in the footnotes, Xulí’s volumes from 1730 and 1733 constitute the earliest documentation of these lexeme(s), printed in bold. Xulí 1730 1 Las ke se dize en eyas miné besamim son, almiskle, (h)anber40[...] Those [flowers] over which one says [the] “kinds of spices”41 [benediction] are musk, musk-mallow[...] (f. 149a). 2 El tabako ke lo yaman burnú tutún42 [...] tyene bwen gwezmo. The tobacco that they call burnú tutún (snuff) has a good fragrance (f. 149a). 3 La perla [...] es de unas káškaras de estridya43 ke se yaman en ‘árabe ṣedef.44 A pearl [...] is from shells of the oyster, which are called in Arabic ṣedef (mother- of-pearl) (f. 15a). 4 Las ke se dize en eyas isbé besamim son estas, menekše,45 fulyas,46 ruda, zanbakes47[...] 40 Cf. T. amber (çiçeği) ‘musk-mallow’ < P. an-/ambar, A. ’anbar. 41 Cf. benediction “Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the Universe, who creates various kinds of spices” (... bore mine bĕśamim). 42 Cf. T. burnu (< burun), tütün. E.g., "‫‘ "מעלה עשן טוטון‬He smokes tobacco’ (Ḥayyim ben Yiśra’el Benveniste [b. Constantinople, 1603, d. Izmir, 1673], Sefer bace ḥayye mišu”t ḥeleq y[ore]”de[ca] niqra ceṣ hadacat, Salonika 1788 [reprinted Ashdod 1997], no. 142, from Izmir 1660). The word also appears in Crews, “One Hundred Medical Recipes” (Note 25 above), p. 259. 43 Cf. T. ist(i)ridye < G. ostereidi. 44 Spelled with word-initial ṣadi <‫ ;>צ‬cf. T. sedef < A. ṣadaf. 45 Cf. T. menekşe < P. benefše. Menekše appears in the medical manuscript of around 1600 published by Crews (“One Hundred Medical Recipes” [Note 25 above], p. 248). 46 Cf. T. fulya < I. foglia. 47 Cf. T. zambak < A. zanbaq. 128 David M. Bunis Those [flowers] over which one says “kinds of herbs” are these, violets, jonquils, rue, lilies [...] (f. 149a). 5 Los guzanos ke ay en el pazí48 i espinaka i yaprakes49[...] The worms that there are in the chard and spinach and vineleaves [...] (f. 120b). 6 Lavando los peškados dyentro del agwa a kitarles la salamura50[...] Washing the fish in water to remove the brine [...] (f. 2b). 7 Tomava un punyadiko de tyera kon un poko de samán51 i lo ronǧava. He took a small fistful of earth with a little straw and threw it (f. 81a). 8 Ut agaǧí,52 ǧinǧivre, yasmín,53 morta, pimyenta, trandafilás,54 en todas estas dirá asé besamim. Indian aloe, ginger, jasmine, myrtle, pepper, roses, over all these one will say “spice trees”55 (f. 149a). 9 Asemežan delantre de el komo un graniko de xardal56 en la mar. They seem to Him like a small grain of mustard (seed) in the sea (f. 13a). 10 Eskondyó a eyos Yaakov de bašo del árvol yabaní57 ke serka de Šexem. Jacob hid them under the uncultivated tree near Shehem (f. 174b). 48 Cf. T. pazı < P. paju. 49 Cf. T. yaprak. Seventeenth-century: "‫‘ "בתוך קדרה של חמין יאפראקיש שמו עליהם ביצים‬in a pot of hot Sabbath food, grape leaves, they put eggs on top’ (Me’ir ben ’Avraham de Botón [c. 1575–1649], Sefer šĕ’elot utšuvot, Izmir 1660 [republished Jerusalem 1983], no. 29). 50 Cf. T. salamura, cf. G. salamoúra, V. salamora. 51 Cf. T. saman. 52 Cf. T. öd [< A. ‘ūd] ağacı. Cf. ot in Crews, “One Hundred Medical Recipes” [Note 25 above], p. 249. 53 Cf. T. yasemin < P. yāsemen. Sixteenth-century: "‫‘ "הביא פרחי יאסמין‬He brought jasmine petals’ (Pinto, Nivḥar mikesef [Note 20 above], no. 31). Yacaqov ben Maxir Xulí (Mecam locez [...] bĕrešit, Constantinople 1730, f. 159b) noted the Turkish origin of the word: “Topó dudaim en el kanpo, ke es una yerva ke se yama en turkesko yasmín, ke tyene bwen gwezmo” ‘He found mandrakes in the field, which are an herb that is called in Turkish yasmín, which has a good smell’. 54 Cf. G. triandáfylo. 55 Cf. benediction “Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the Universe, who creates spice trees” (... bore ‘aṣe bĕsamim). 56 T. hardal < A. xardāl; cf. also H. ‫( חרדל‬ḥardal). 57 Cf. T. yabani < P. yābān-ī. 129 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo 11 Una have ke su biko era grande kwanto el mušo del sifyo58 [...] A bird whose beak was as long as the sword of a swordfish [...] (f. 146a) Xulí 1733: 12 En·los konfites de anasón59 [...] dirá šeakol [...] Over candies from aniseed one will say [the benediction] “everything”60 [...] (f. 193b). 13 En·los konfites de [...] fistukes61 dirá aés [...] Over candies from [...] pistachio one will say [the benediction] “creates the fruit of the tree”62 [...] (f. 193b). 14 Si [...] topó unos kwantos trigitos [...] dyentro de la ǧivra,63 akel rakí64 es xamés. If [...] he found some small grains of wheat [...] inside the residue of [of the rakı], that rakı (brandy] is leavened [and thus prohibited during Passover] (f. 52b). 15 En Misráyim ay unos karpuzes65 ke son yenos de kaldo [...] In Egypt there are watermelons that are full of juice [...] (f. 192b). 58 Cf. G. ksifías. Note the following distinction between the perhaps formal, literary term found in some texts, and the term by which the fish is called among Judezmo speakers: “Un peškado ke se yama peše espada i lo yamamos nozotros sifyo” ‘A fish that is called sword fish and we call it sifyo’ (Yiṣḥaq Magriso, Sefer mecam locez ḥeleq šĕliši sefer wayiqra, Constantinople 1753, f. 43b). 59 Cf. T. anason < G. anison. The word appears in the manuscript published by Crews (“One Hundred Medical Recipes” [Note 25 above], p. 232). 60 Cf. benediction “Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the Universe, through Whose word everything comes into being” (... šehakol nihya bidvaro). 61 Cf. T. fıstık < A. fustuq < P. piste. The form fustukes appears in the manuscript published by Crews (“One Hundred Medical Recipes” [Note 25 above], p. 240). 62 Cf. benediction “Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the Universe, who creates the fruit of the tree” (... bore pĕri haceṣ). 63 Cf. T. cibre. 64 Cf. T. rakı < A. ‘araqī. Sixteenth-century: "‫] שיתן לו לבן א' לקנות ראקי‬...[ ‫‘ "שאל ממנו‬He asked him [...] to give him a coin worth a third of a para to buy rakı’ (Śaśon, Torat ’emet [Note 24 above], no. 6, from Salonika 1597). 65 Cf. T. karpuz < P. xarbūz. Seventeenth-century: "‫] איש תוגר מוכר קארפוזיש‬...[ ]![ ‫] מצה‬...[ ‫ה"ר יעקב‬ ‫] ליהודי א‬...[' " ‘Rabbi Yacaqov [...] found [...] a Turkish man selling watermelons [...] to a Jew’ (Moše ben Yacaqov Śalṭon [1615-1685], Sefer bĕne Moše, Constantinople 1712, no. 45, from Constantinople 1668); “Milón o karpús” ‘melon or water-melon’ (Dani’el de Avila Gallego, Diálogo del kolorado, Salonika 1601, f. 39a); also in Crews, “One Hundred Medical Recipes” (Note 25 above), p. 252. 130 David M. Bunis 16 Myel [...] kitada del kován.66 Honey [...] taken from the hive (f. 58b). 17 Los garvansos ke se yaman leblebizes67 […] su beraxá es perí aadamá […] The chickpeas which are called leblebizes [...] their benediction is “fruit of the earth”68 [...] (f. 191b). 18 Remoža mazís69 en agwa. He moistens gall nuts in water (f. 206a). 19 Mesklan arina o nišasta70 dyentro de la myel. They mix flour or starch into the honey (f. 58b). 20 La kalavasa i koles […] i anǧenaras,71 ke se yaman alxaršofas en krudas, se dirá šeakol, i si son kočas o en salamura, ke se yama truší,72 dirá perí aadamá. Over pumpkin and cabbages [...] and artichokes, which are called alxaršofas when uncooked, one will say [the benediction] “everything [comes into being]”, and if they are cooked or are in brine, which is called truší, one will say [the benediction] “fruit of the earth” [...] (f. 191b). 21 Les tenía savor de [...] poros, kere dezir prasa.73 It tasted to them like [...] allium porrum, meaning leeks (f. 142a-142b). 66 Cf. T. kovan. 67 Cf. T. leblebi < P. leblebi. 68 Cf. benediction “Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the Universe, who creates the fruit of the earth” (... bore pĕri ha’adama). 69 Cf. T. mazı < P. māzū. Mazí preto ‘black gall-nut’ appears in the medical manuscript published by Crews (“One Hundred Medical Recipes” [Note 25 above], p. 248). 70 Cf. T. nişasta < P. nišāste. The form nišaste appears in the medical manuscript published by Crews (“One Hundred Medical Recipes” [Note 25 above], p. 247). 71 Cf. T. enginar, G. anginára. 72 Cf. T. turşu < P. türşi. Sixteenth-century: “el navo […] si está kočo o en truší kon vinagre o kon mostaza [...]” ‘turnips, if cooked or pickled in vinegar or mustard [...]’ (Livro lyamado en lašón hakódeš Šulxán hapanim i en ladino Meza de el alma, [Šĕmu’el Benveniste, tr.], Salonika 1568, f. 37a; see discussion in Cynthia M. Crews, “Some Linguistic Comments on Oriental and Moroccan Judeo-Spanish”, Estudios Sefardíes 2 [1979], pp. 3-20 [p. 20]). 73 Cf. T. pırasa. Seventeenth-century: “I tornaron ižos de Yaakov sovre la ǧente de Gáaš […] i los kortaron al modo ke kortan prasa ‘And the sons of Jacob turned on the people of Ga‘ash, and cut them like one cuts leeks’ (Moshe Lazar [ed.], Sēfer ha-yāšār: First Ladino translation [Haverford College, Ms. Hebr. 18], Labyrinthos, Lancaster Ca. 1998, p. 252 [from the second half of the seventeenth century]); Crews, “One Hundred Medical Recipes [Note 25 above], p. 250; "‫‘ "אחד שמכר מאה אוק[אש]' של כרתי לחברו פראש"ה בלעז‬One 131 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo 22 Aún ke kortó la vedrura en pedasikos muy menudos komo la salata74 […] no se demuda su beraxá […] Even if he cut the vegetable into very fine little pieces like a salad [...] its benediction does not change [...] (f. 191b). 23 En el susam75 se dize bore perí aadamá i si se molyó en molino para kitar su azeyte i kome lo ke sovra, ke se yama kuspá,76 dirá šeakol [...] Over sesame one says “creates the fruit of the earth” and if one ground it in a grinder to extract the oil and eats the residue, which is called kuspá, he will say “everything” [...] (f. 191b). 24 Los kweškos de šeftelí no se dize beraxá del todo en·eyos.77 On peach pits one does not say a benediction at all. (f. 189b). 25 Despwés de bever [...] šerbet78 de kaysís79 dirá boré nefašoθ [...] After drinking [...] sherbet from apricots he will say “Creator of all life”80 [...] (f. 192a). 26 En [...] višnas81 [...] se dize en eyos boré perí aés [...] who sold 100 okkas of leeks to his associate, prasa in Lacaz [Judezmo]’ (Yacaqov ben Ḥayyim Alfandari [1620-1695], Sefer muṣal me’eš, vol. 2, Constantinople, 1736 [reprinted Jerusalem, 1998, from Pressburg, 1878 edition], no. 11). Note that the author states that ‘karti (leeks) is prasa in Lacaz’; i.e., he identifies prasa as a Judezmo lexeme. 74 Cf. T. salata < I. insalata. Seventeenth-century: "‫] מביאין סאלאט"ה‬...[ ‫בסעודות גדולות של בשר‬ ‫] להרבות תאות המאכל‬...[ ‫‘ "וטרוש'י של מלפפנות‬In large feasts with meat [...] they bring salad and pickled cucumbers [...] to stimulate the appetite’ (’Avraham ben Mordĕxay HaLewi [b. c. 1650], Sefer ginnat wĕradim, Constantinople, 1715-17 [reprinted Jerusalem, n.d.], ’Oraḥ ḥayyim, kĕlal 1, sec. 30). 75 Cf. T. susam < A. susam (sīsām). 76 Cf. T. küspe < P. kusbe. 77 Cf. T. šeftali < P. šeft-ālū. 78 Cf. T. şerbet < A. šarbat (through Persian). Sixteenth-century: “agwa de možadura de pasas i figos o su kozedura ke (l)yaman šeyrbet <‫‘ >ש"יירביט‬raisin and fig juice or compote that they call šeyrbet’ ([Benveniste, tr.], Meza de el alma [Note 72 above], f. 35b; see discussion in Crews, “Some Linguistic Comments” [Note 25 above], p. 20). 79 Cf. T. kayısı. 80 Cf. benediction “Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the Universe, Creator of all life and its needs” (... bore nĕfašot rabbot). 81 Cf. T. vişne, SC. višnja, B. víšna. Seventeenth-century: "‫מרקחת מגדגניות והם הנקר' ויש'נאש‬ ‫ וגם עושין משקה מהם עם דבש וצוקאר הנקרא חוש'אפ‬,‫‘ "והם ג'ינדאש‬a spread from morello cherries which are called višnas and they are [referred to in older texts as] ǧindas [sic; cf. S. guindas], and they also make a drink from them with honey and sugar which is called 132 David M. Bunis Over [...] morello cherries [...], one says “creates the fruit of the tree” [...] (f. 192a). 27 Las nwezes ke no las sembran para azerlas dulse estando xames82 [...] su dérex es de komerlas por fruta despwés ke se gizan byen en·el árvol [...] Nuts that are not sowed for making jam since they are bitter/unripe [...] their way is to eat them as fruit after they have ripened well on the tree [...] (f. 193b). 28 Azer šerbet, kere dezir de remožar pasas o zerdelís83 o resto de fruta seka, según azen en·el enverano [...] To make sherbet, meaning to soak raisins or wild apricots or other dried fruit, as they do in the summer [...] (f. 203a). 29 I liryos i zirní kadés84 i zimbul hindí,85 ke son modos de konservas, su beraxá es perí aadamá [...] And violets and jonquils […] and spikenard which are [used in] types of jams, their benediction is “fruit of the earth” [...] (f. 193b). Furthermore, by the early eighteenth century time, Judezmo speakers evidenced an increasing familiarity with, and in fact incorporation into the local Jewish cuisine, of prepared foods which played a role in the rich Ottoman culinary tradition. These items, too, as well as their categorizations, were generally borrowed into Judezmo together with their Ottoman names, as evidenced in Xulí’s volume from 1733, with its extensive discussion of foods and utensils, especially within the framework of Passover: xošap/-f [cf. T. hoşaf/-b < P. xoš-āb ‘drink of stewed fruit’]’ (Benveniste, Bace ḥayye [...] y[ore]”de[‘a] [...] ‘eṣ hadacat [Note 42 above], no. 127, from Izmir 1661). 82 Cf. T. ham < P. xām. E.g., “Sovre fruta xam i kaida šeakol bendizirás” ‘Over unripe and fallen fruit you will pronounce the benediction “everything”’ (’Avraham ben Yiṣḥaq ’Asa [tr.], Letras de ribí Akivá, Constantinople 1729, section 2, f. 6a). Xam already appears in the Judezmo manuscript from around 1600 published by Crews (“One Hundred Medical Recipes” [Note 25 above], p. 243). 83 Cf. T. zerdali < P. zerdālū. 84 Cf. T. zerrin kadeh, P. zerrīn, A. qadaḥ. Seventeenth-century: "‫והשושנים הנז' היו קלאויליינא‬ ‫‘ "א' וזירני קאדה עם ה' ראמיקאש משירמה‬And the said flowers were one carnation and jonquils with five little branches of filigree [cf. T. sırma]’ (Yosef ben Moše Mitrani [= Mahariṭ, 1568-1639], Šĕ’elot utšuvot […] lĕharav […] Yosef ben […] Moše Mitrani, vol. two, Venice 1645 [republished Bene Beraq 1994], ’Even hacezer, no. 39). 85 Cf. T. sümbüli hindi < P. sunbuli hindi. The form zinbul hindí and other variants appear in the manuscript published by Crews (“One Hundred Medical Recipes” [Note 25 above], p. 257). 133 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo 30 El simit86 ke lo yaman čorek87 o anasonlís [...] The round, crisp bread with sesame seeds that they call čorek or anasonlís (aniseed bread) [...] (f. 188b). 31 Fidalgo [...] kome [...] medyo čorekito.88 A dainty aristocrat eats only half a little ring-shaped bread (f. 189a). 32 Las baklabás89 de kezo ke trayen en·las fyestas al prisipyo de la seudá [...] The cheese pastries that they bring in during celebrations at the beginning of the festive meal [...] (f. 190b). 33 Tavlá90 de fyero ke la ponen sovre la bogača.91 An iron tray that they put on top of the loaf/pastry (f. 59b). 34 En boyos o borekas92 [...] dirá amosí. Over round pastries and flaky pastries [...] he will say “Who brings forth”93 (f. 194b). 35 I lo mezmo es en čorbá94 de aróz kwando el grano está entero [...] And the same is true of rice soup when the grain is whole [...] (f. 191b). 36 En·la alatrea ke se yama eskolača95 [...] ay safek en su beraxá. Regarding the noodles that are called eskolača [fried vermicelli] [...] there is doubt concerning the benediction (f. 188b). 86 Cf. T. simit < A. samīd. Seventeenth-century (with pl. simites): "‫גויה אחת שעושה סימיטיש‬ [...]" ‘a Gentile woman who makes round, crisp breads’ (Benveniste, Bace ḥayye [...] y[ore]”de[ca][...] ceṣ hadacat [Note 42 above], no. 153). 87 Cf. T. çörek. 88 Cf. T. çörek + J./S. dimin. -ito. 89 Cf. T. baklava. 90 Cf. T. tabla < A. ṭabla. 91 Cf. T. boğaça < I. focaccia. Bogača is offered in the anonymous Bible glossary Sefer ḥešeq Šĕlomo (Venice 1588, ff. 12b, 31b) as the translation of (wĕ)kikkar (‫‘ )וככר‬and one loaf of bread’ in Exodus 29:23 and ṣĕlīl (‫‘ )צליל‬a slice [of barley bread]’ in Judges 7:13. 92 Cf. T. börek. Earlier: “Boreka i boyiko, […] si komistes por artar, netilá i amosí kere adelantar” ‘flaky-dough or round filled pastry, [...] if you eat them to be sated, they should be preceded by the benedictions over hand washing and bread eating’ (’Asa, Letras de ribí Akivá [Note 82 above], sec. 2, f. 7a). 93 Cf. benediction “Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the Universe, who brings forth bread from the earth” (... hamoṣi leḥem min ha’areṣ). 94 Cf. T. çorba < P. šorbā. 95 Cf. SC. kolač, also G. skoulíki ‘worms’, J./S. es‑[base]-a; see Max L. Wagner, “Espigueo judeo-español”, Revista de Filología Española 34 (1950), 9-106 (p. 51); Petar Skok, 134 David M. Bunis 37 Kwando beve el kahvé96 […] When one drinks Turkish coffee [...] (f. 32b). 38 Dan as[pros] a·el del kaymak.97 They give money to the man who sells the cream (f. 135b). 39 Las manuras98 ke azen [...] son masod delgadas ke las gizan enteras i las komen kon kezo komo koza de masa. The manuras [cheese and matzah dish] they make [...] are thin matzoth that they cook whole and eat with cheese as a doughy food (f. 198a). 40 En·el envyerno [...] uzan a komer pačás99 kon ažos i vinagre. In the winter [...] they are used to eating [a dish made from] leg of mutton with garlic and vinegar (f. 205b). 41 El xavyari100 ke azen de abotáraxo101 [...] The caviar they make from egg roe preserved in brine (f. 205b). Etimologijski rjecnik hrvatskoga ili srpskoga jezika, Jugoslavenska Akademija Znanosti i Umjetnosti, Zagreb 1971-74, vol. 2, p. 122. 96 Cf. T. kahve < A. qahwa. Sixteenth-century: "‫[ וחנות הקהווא‬...]"‘and the coffee shop [...]’ (Mitrani, Sefer šĕ’elot utšuvot Mabbiṭ, vol. 2, part 2 [Note 37 above], no. 150). The word is also used by Xulí (Mecam locez [...] bĕrešit [Note 53 above], f. 100a): “Kwando se vižitan una a la otra [...] lo uzaron de dar kahvé kon modos de dulse i kon saludar a la patrona de kaza, dizyendo, ‘En bodas de gwestros ižos’” ‘When the women visit one another [...] they used to give coffee with various types of sweets and they [i.e., the recipients] greet the woman of the house, saying “[May it be so] at the weddings of your children” ’. 97 Cf. T. kaymak. E.g., "‫] הקאיימאקיש‬...[ ‫‘ "הני דאכלי קיימאק‬those who eat cream [...] the creams [...]’ (Benveniste, Bace ḥayye [...] y[ore]”de[ca][...] ceṣ hadacat [Note 42 above], no. 159, from Tiria 1645). 98 Cf. G. manoúri ‘kind of soft white cheese’. 99 Cf. T. paça < P. pāçe ‘little foot’ < pā ‘foot’, dim. suffix ‑če. Xulí (Mecam locez [...] šĕmot, Constantinople 1733, f. 280b) employed the word pačá to explain the meaning of Hebrew arkuvá (‫‘ )ארכובה‬the leg from under the hip bone to the ankle’ (Marcus Jastrow, A Dictionary of the Targumim..., Luzac, London 1903, 121: E.g., “Los pyes de la beemá [...] el pye está en tres partes. El de abašo se yama ‘arkuvá’, ke son las pačás” ‘The legs of cattle are in three parts. The lower part is called the arkuvá, which are the pačás’. 100 Cf. T. havyar, G. xavyári. 101 Cf. G. avgotáraxo. The form avgotáragas already appears in the sixteenth century: cf. "‫] בעיר ברוסה‬...[ ‫‘ "נמצאנו בבית ה"ר יעקב והיו ביד בנו ראובן ביצי דגים הנקראים אבגוטראגאש‬We were in the house of Rabbi Yacaqov and his son Rĕ’uven had in his hand roe called avgotáragas [...] in the city of Bursa’ (Tam [Yacqov] ben David ’Ibn Yaḥya [1470?-1541], Šĕ’elot utšuvot ’ahŏle Tam, Tummat yĕšarim, Venice 1622 [republished Jerusalem 1999], no. 82). 135 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo 42 La pasturmá [...] es koza ke ay en·eya espesyas i pimyenta.102 Pasturmá (dried, preserved meat) [...] is something that has spices and pepper (f. 59a). 43 Salremos a·kamino en·el dezyerto sin tener komanya.103 We shall set out on the road in the desert without provisions of food (f. 68b). 44 Las melópitas104 [...] las ponen en·el tafsín.105 Honey pastries [...] they put on the small copper tray (f. 58b). 45 En·el aróz, si lo kome kočo kwando está el grano entero, ke se yama pilaf106 o aróz tané,107 su beraxá es bore perí aadamá [...] Over rice, if one eats it cooked in whole grain form, which is called pilaf or tané (individual grain) rice, its benediction is “creates the fruit of the earth” (f. 191b). 46 El salep108 [...] es un bevraže dulse ke lo beven en·el envyerno kayente kayente i se beve [...] a sorvo a sorvo. Salep109 [...] is a sweet drink that they drink very hot in the winter and it is drunk [...] one sip at a time (f. 187b). 47 El suǧuk110 ke se venden por estas partes [...] tyene din del malbén.111 102 Cf. T. b-/pastırma. Note the early variant pastirmá: "‫היהודי ההוא היה קצב בשוורים בזמן שעושים‬ ‫‘ "הפאשטירמה‬That Jew was a butcher of cattle at the time they make dried, preserved meat’ (’Ibn Yaḥya, Šĕ’elot utšuvot ’ahŏle Tam, no. 74). 103 Cf. T. kumanya, I. compagna and other Romance forms denoting ‘ship’s provisions’ (Henry & Renée Kahane & Andreas Tietze, The Lingua Franca in the Levant, University of Illinois, Urbana 1958, no. 212). 104 Cf. G. melópita. The base, pita ‘flat, filled bread’ (cf. T. pide/-te, G. píta, SC., B. pita) appears in the medical manuscript from around 1600 published by Crews (“One Hundred Medical Recipes” [Note 25 above], p. 250); cf. also “Se kozyó i se izo komo pitas” ‘It was cooked and became like flat, filled breads’ (’Avraham ben Yiṣḥaq ’Asa, Sefer šulḥan hamelex, es xibur de šulxán arux [órax xayim] kopyado en ladino, Constantinople 1749, f. 157b). 105 Cf. T. tepsi. 106 Cf. T. pilaf < P. pe-/pilâv. 107 Cf. T. tane < P. dāne. 108 Cf. T. salep, variant sahleb < A. saḥlab. In the manuscript from around 1600 published by Crews (“One Hundred Medical Recipes [Note 25 above], p. 255) one finds the Arabicized spelling s[a]ḥl[a]b <‫>סחלב‬. 109 A drink made from powdered Orchis mascula root. 110 Cf. T. sucuk. 111 Cf. Ar. malban. Note the following description offered by Rĕ’uven Ben ’Avraham ‘of Štip’ (Sefer tiqqune hanefeš, vol. 2, Salonika 1775, ff. 51a-51b: “En Xevrón azen una koza dulse 136 David M. Bunis The corn-starch-and-nutroll candy that they sell in these regions [...] is governed by the same dietary law as the malbén (fruit-jelly-like sweet). (f. 188b). 48 Pésax [...] la taxina112 es pekado de komerla. During Passover [...] it is a sin to eat tahina paste (f. 55b). Additional terms appear in Xulí’s volumes in other culinary-related halakhic contexts, such as the proper benediction required before and after the consumption of specific foods. Some terms denote implements, vessels, and measures used in the preparation, serving, or storage of foods. Xulí 1730: 49 Bever una čanaka113 de vino [...] To drink a pot of wine [...] (f. 145b). 50 Rompyó un ǧaro de činí.114 He broke a china jar (f. 37a). 51 Tenía una kavra i [...] de su kwero izyeron una kirbá115 para inčir agwa kon eya. She had a goat and from its skin they made a liquid bag to fill with water (f. 112b). 52 Un boteziko byen siyado i pwesto dyentro de un kutí116 [...] A little bottle well sealed and put inside a tin box [...] (f. 81b). ke se yama malbén i es arope ke·lo buyen mučo i enmleskan en él sémola para ke·se espeze i despwés lo eskudían en tavlás ančas i se kwažan i·se azen komo la pitagra” ‘In Hebron they make something sweet that is called malbén and it is grape syrup that they boil a lot and mix with semolina so that it thickens and afterwards they pour it on wide trays and it congeals and becomes like apricot leather’. 112 Cf. T. tahin < A. ṭaḥīn. 16-17th century: "‫"שאלת על הטאחי"נה שמוציאין ממנה שמן שומשמין‬ ‘You asked about the sesame paste from which they extract sesame oil’ (Mordĕxay ben Yĕhuda HaLewi [Egypt, b. c. 1520, d. 1684], Sefer darxe nocam, Venice 1697 [reprinted Ashdod 1997], ’Oraḥ ḥayyim, no. 6). 113 Cf. T. çanak + J./S. femininizing ‑a. 114 Cf. T. çini < P. čini < Činī ‘China’. 115 Cf. T. kırba < A. qirba. 116 Cf. T. kutu, G. (neuter) koutí. Seventeenth-century: "‫] והניחם בחנותו‬...[ ‫ראובן גבה קצת מעות‬ ‫‘ "בקוטי‬Rĕ’uven collected a few coins [...] and placed them in his shop in a tin box’ (’Ahăron Lapapa [b. Manisa c. 1590, d. 1667], Sefer bĕne ’Ahăron, Izmir 1674 [republished Jerusalem 1990], no. 75). 137 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo Deve la presona de aparežar el librik117 i el ligén118 a los pyes de su kama. A person should prepare the ewer and basin at the foot of his bed (f. 28b). 54 Apareža tres mezuras [...] de sémola, 18 okás.119 Prepare three measures [...] of semolina, 18 Turkish okes120 (f. 99a). 55 Si se orina la kriyatura [...] akuden presto kon algún peškir121 para alimpyarlo. If the child urinates on himself [...] they hasten to bring some table napkin to clean him (f. 176b). 56 Un tulum122 yeno de vyento, [...] avyendo en el algún burakito, no es posivle ke ture el vyento en el. A goat-skin bag full of air [...], if it has a small hole in it, the air cannot remain in it (f. 19b). Xulí 1733: 57 Los librikitos123 de kahvé [...], si es ke su boka es muy estreča, no los syerve agalá. Little pots for coffee [...], if their spouts are very narrow, they cannot be made fit for Passover use through boiling (f. 60b). 58 Los espetos i eskalas124 i mašás125 [...] ke se syerve de eyos ensima de la lumbre [...] The spits and grills and tongs [...] that they use over the [cooking] fire (f. 60a). 117 Cf. T. ibrik < A. ibrīq. 118 Cf. T. le-/liğen < P. legen ‘anything mixed up with clay’. 119 Cf. T. okka < A. ‘uqqa < L. unica. Sixteenth-century: ",‫נתן רבי שמעי[ה]' הנז[כר]' סך אוקאש אנייר‬ ‫ סך כל אוקה‬,‫[ ועלו הסך מהאוקאש‬...]" ‘The aforementioned Rabbi Šĕmaya gave an amount of okes of indigo, and the price of okes increased, each oke cost […]’ (De Medina, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Maharašdam, Ḥošen mišpaṭ [Note 22], no. 53, from 1544); “Tomó una pyedra de la tyera ke pezava sesenta okás” ‘He took a stone from the earth which weighed seventy okes’ (Lazar, Sēfer ha-yāšār [Note 73 above], p. 240); Crews, “One Hundred Medical Recipes” [Note 25 above], p. 249, abbreviated ok’ <‫>’אוק‬. 120 The Turkish oke is equivalent to 400 dirhems, 2.8 pounds, or 1,225 grams. 121 Cf. T. peşkir < P. pešgir. The word is also mentioned by Xulí in his 1730 volume on Genesis (Mecam locez [...] bĕrešit [Note 53 above], f. 176b). 122 Cf. T. tulum. 123 Cf. T. ibrik < A. ibrīq + J./S. dimin. -ito. 124 Cf. G. skára. 125 Cf. T. maşa < P. māše. 138 David M. Bunis 59 Los [...] platos de farfurí126 [...] no se pwede servir de eyos en pésax. China plates [...] cannot be used during Passover (f. 59b). 60 La have [sic] [...] ke, estando bolando [...], si esbatyó de una [...] sovre kwal ker koza dura komo balas o ferdés127 [...] de [...] trigo [...] A bird [...] which, while flying [...], if it suddenly hit against anything hard such as bales or sacks […] of [...] wheat [...] (f. 282a). 61 Kelim de pésax [...], kučiyos i finǧanes128 [...] Passover vessels [...], knives and coffee cups [...] (f. 52b). 62 Antes de dezir kiduš [...] se deve gostar del vino en un finǧaniko aparte [...] Before saying the sanctification over wine one must taste the wine in a separate little coffee cup [...] (f. 192b). 63 Uzan de gizar komida [...] en el kapak129 de la kaldera. They are accustomed to cooking food […] on the cover of the cauldron (f. 60b). 64 Izo un enǧenyo de azer un kapakito de tavla para akel burako. They came up with the idea of making a little cover of wood for that hole (f. 308a). 65 Si no topa kántaro nwevo tomará una kuvá130 o un bariliko. If he does not find a new jug he will take a bucket or little barrel (f. 56b). 66 Verá de ponerlas [las masoθ] dyentro de un paneri.131 He will see to putting [the unleavened breads] inside a basket (f. 58a). 67 Ǧaros i [...] i mortero [...] i pirones132 [...], es menester akavidarse de eskaldar al prisipyo los kelim. Pitchers and [...] mortars [...] and forks [...], it is necessary to take care to scald the vessels at the beginning (f. 60a). 68 Azen esta mezura de teneké.133 126 Cf. T. fağfuri < P. fağfuri (< P. fağfūr + A. -ī). 127 Cf. T. ferde < A. farda. 128 Cf. T. fıncan < A. finǧān. Seventeenth-century: "‫‘ "נותנין הקהוו"ה בפינג'אן‬They give the coffee in a little coffee cup’ (HaLewi, Ginnat wĕradim [Note 73 above], ’Oraḥ ḥayyim, kĕlal 3, sec. 4) 129 Cf. T. kapak. Perhaps an early reflex of this is kabako <‫>קאבאקו‬, used in [Benveniste], Meza de el alma (Note 72 above), f. 57b, in the sense of a ‘lid’ used to cover a vessel. 130 Cf. T. kova. 131 Cf. G. panéri. 132 Cf. G. peiroúni. 133 Cf. T. teneke. Sixteenth-century: "]...[ ‫והיה לכל אחד מהם שלשלאות של כסף בתוך טינקי אח'[ד] ובא‬ ‫‘ "'ולקח טיניקי א‬Each of them had silver chains inside a tin box; and he came [...] and took one tin box’ (De Medina, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Maharašdam, Ḥošen mišpaṭ [Note 22], no. 389). 139 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo They make this measuring device out of tin (f. 56b). 69 Sesto de ramas del lulav según son los zenbiles134 de Misráyim [...] A basket from palm branches as are the baskets from Egypt [...] (f. 206b). 70 La tuvlá135 o pyedra ke tapan el orno [...] The brick or stone with which they cover the oven [...] (f. 292a). Furthermore, Xulí’s text from 1730 has several terms adopted from the Ottoman milieu referring to the persons involved in food provision, and one of the places in which food was served: 71 La pyerna [...] el kasap136 ya la purgó. The leg {of the slaughtered animal} [...] the butcher already removed the forbidden vein from it (f. 169b). 72 Potifar, sinklavo de Paró, [...] era kasab baší137 del rey. Potifar, slave of Pharoah, [...] was the king’s chief butcher (f. 185b). 73 Bavonod alguna ǧente [...] se alevantan demanyana i se van derečo a la mehaná138 i beven rakí o vino i de ayí se van al kaal. For our sins there are people [...] who get up in the morning and go straight to the tavern and drink rakı or wine and from there they go to the synagogue (f. 113b). 134 Cf. T. zembil < P. zinbīl. 135 Cf. T. tuğla < L. tegula. 136 Spelled <‫>קאצאפ‬, cf. T. kasap (< A. qaṣṣāb); cf. also H. ‫ קצב‬qaṣav. Moše Almosnino of 16th-century Salonika used the plural form kasapes, with Hispanic-origin ‑es (cf. Romeu, Moisés Almosnino [Note 26 above], p 156). In texts from the modern era there appears an alternate plural employing the Hebrew-origin plural morpheme ‑im (-‫)ים‬: kasapim <‫( >קאסאפים‬e.g., El ǧugetón 1 [Constantinople 1909], p. 140). 137 Cf. T. kasap (< A. qaṣṣāb) başı ‘(Ottoman) chief butcher, superintendent of the butcher’s guild and director of the sheep tax’. 138 Here spelled <‫>מיהאנה‬, cf. T. meyhane < P. mey-xāne. In a rabbinic Hebrew text from the early seventeenth century the word is cited as being in the ‘language of Gentiles’: "]...[‫ו‬ ‫‘ "עשו את בית הכנסת בית היין של גוים הנקרא בלשונם מיהנ"א‬And […] they made the synagogue a tavern of Gentiles, called in their language mehaná’ (Basan, Šĕ’elot utšuvot [Note 20 above], no. 104). But by the second half of the century the word is simply incorporated in a Judezmo sentence without qualifying it as a foreignism: “Estando yo travažando en mexané <‫ >מיחאני‬de un arel en Xaskyoy <‫[ >חאסקיואי‬...]” ‘While I was working in the tavern of a Christian in Hasköy [...]’ (Śalṭon, Bĕne Moše [Note 65 above], no. 45, from Constantinople 1668). The plural mianot <‫>מיאנוט‬, formed with Hebrew-origin 140 David M. Bunis 6.1.2 Other semantic domains As will be illustrated in the remaining sections of this article, especially from the seventeenth century, Judezmo borrowed lexemes from Turkish and other contact languages of the Ottoman Empire relating to numerous other domains of realia. Attesting to a deeper knowledge of the Ottoman milieu and its languages, now the borrowings also included lexemes denoting abstractions, such as ‘obstinacy’ (e.g., pizma139 < G. peîsma, inat140 < T. inat < A. ‘inād), ‘offense’ (e.g., kabaet141 < T. kabahat < A. qabāḥat), ‘vengeance’ (e.g., intikam142 < T. intikam < A. ’intiqām), ‘effort’ (e.g., zaxmet143 < T. zahmet < A. zaḥma[t]), ‘ease’ (e.g., kolaylik144 < T. kolaylık < kolay145 ‑od (-‫)ות‬, appears in La gwerta de oro (Livorno 1778, f. 12b), by Sarajevo-born David ‘Aṭias; but in the modern era the plurals meanés/-ás <‫אס‬-/‫>מיאניס‬, with Hispanic-origin ‑s, are documented for Izmir and Istanbul, respectively, (e.g., -és in ’Avraham Palači, Sefer wĕhoxiaḥ ’Avraham, 2d ed., Izmir 1877, f. 9b; -ás in El ǧugetón 5:22 [Constantinople 1913], p. 4). 139 E.g., “Se peleó kon eyos Kučuk Yaziǧí […]; le gwardaron la pizma” ‘Little Scribe [cf. T. küçük yazıcı] fought with them [...]; they remained stubbornly against him’ (Šĕlomo ben ’Ahăron Ben/Ibn Ḥason [Salonika, early 17th century], Sefer bet Šĕlomo, Salonika 1720 [republished Brooklyn, 1991], Mišpaṭim, no. 47, from Vidin 1610). 140 E.g., “A·la swegra le enbarasa el sinyorío de·la rizín venida; la rizín venida kyere mutlak sobervya, ma la vyeža la kyere dešar; i kon estos inates enpesan a gritar” ‘The mother- in-law is disturbed by the bossiness of her new daughter-in-law; the latter is absolutely [cf. T. mutlak < A. mutlaq] haughty, but the old woman pays her no mind; and with this stubbornness the two of them start shouting’ (‘Atias, La gwerta de oro [Note 138 above], f. 31b). 141 E.g., “Enkomendí ke lo enforkaran por todos akeos kabaetes ke izo” ‘I ordered that they hang him for all those misdemeanors that he committed’ (Yiṣḥaq Magriso, Sefer mecam locez ḥeleq rĕvi‘i […] sefer bĕmidbar, Constantinople 1764, f. 33a). 142 E.g., “Toma intikam de akeos aniyim” ‘He takes revenge on those paupers’ (Magriso, Mecam locez […] bĕmidbar [Note 141 above], ff. 33a-33b). 143 E.g., “Dame mi moneda i te pagaré tu zaxmet” ‘Give me my money and I’ll pay you for your trouble’ (anon. tr., ’Arye bamistarim, Constantinople 1766, f. 4b). 144 E.g., “destruyéndolo […] kon akel mezmo kolaylik i fasilidad” ‘destroying it [...] with that same ease and facility’ (‘Aṭias, La gwerta de oro [Note 138 above], f. 4a). 145 E.g., ‫] אני אתן לו את בתי אם ימתין י"ד שנים והשיב הבחור שזה יהיה קולאי‬...[ ‫] שאמר‬...[ ‫] הוא‬...[ ‫"ר' שלמה‬ ‘Rabbi Šĕlomo [...] is the one [...] who said “I’ll give him my daughter [in marriage] if he will wait 14 years”, and the young man said that it would be easy’ (De Medina, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Maharašdam [Note 22 above], ’Even hacezer, no. 38). 141 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo ‘easy’), ‘deviltry’ (e.g., šey(n)tanlik146 < T. şeytanlık < şeytan < A. šayṭān, J. šeytán147). 7. Phonological shifts In addition to the sound shift illustrated by the sole form xoǧet in Late Middle Judezmo resulting from the Early Middle Judezmo variants xoǧete/-i ~ xoǧet (< T. hüccet), as discussed in section 5 above, the variants of the Judezmo reflexes of Turkish hüccet in texts from the sixteenth through eighteenth centuries also illustrate another phenomenon in the transition from Early to Late Middle Judezmo. In the sixteenth and, to a lesser extent, early seventeenth centuries, the Hebrew-letter reflex of the Ottoman Turkish phones denoted by the Arabic consonantal letters he <‫>ه‬, xa <‫ >خ‬and ḥa <‫( >ح‬corresponding to modern Turkish <h>) vacillated between he <‫>ה‬, perhaps representing [h] (as in English heart), more frequent ḥet <‫>ח‬, probably representing x, and rare zero. For example, we find he in <‫( >הוג'יט‬denoting [hoǧet]?) in the Salonika 1594–97 edition of the responsa of Šĕmuél de Medina,148 as well as in the responsa of Yosef Taitaṣak (c. 1490–1561)149 and Estruk Ben Sančí (d. 1643).150 We find variant ḥet in <‫( >חוג"יט‬representing [xoǧet]) in the responsa of Yosef Karo (1488–1575),151 Yiṣḥaq Adarbi (or Adrebi, born c. 1510),152 Yosef Almosnino (died 1689),153 and most other responsa collections from this period. 146 E.g., “Mas sensya i žeyntanlik se le rekyere oy” ‘More cleverness and deviltry are required of him today’ (‘Aṭias, La gwerta de oro [Note 138 above], f. 3a). 147 Judezmo šeytán does not seem to appear textually before the beginning of the twentieth century. 148 De Medina, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Maharašdam [Note 22 above], Ḥošen mišpaṭ, no. 15, from 1577. 149 Yosef ben Šĕlomo Ṭaiṭaṣaq (b. Spain or Portugal, c. 1490, d. Salonika, 1561), Tĕšuvot šĕ’elot lĕrabbi Yosef Taitaṣak, ed. Meir Benayahu (reprinted Jerusalem 1987), p. 344. 150 Estruk ben David Ben Sanči (b. Nikopol?, c. 1570, d. Jerusalem?, 1643), Sefer šĕ’elot utšuvot rabbi Estruk be[n]”ra[bbi] David ibn Sanči, ed. M. ‘Amar, Bar-Ilan University, Ramat-Gan 1982, no. 32. 151 Yosef Karo (1488-1575), Šĕ’elot utšuvot ’avqat roxel, Salonika 1791 (reprinted Jerusalem 1960), no. 77, from 1550. 152 Adarbi, Divre rivot [Note 34 above], no. 189, from 1566. 153 Yosef ben Yiṣḥaq Almosnino (b. Salonika?, 1642, d. Nikolsburg, 1689), Sefer cedut biYhosef, vol. 1, Constantinople 1711, no. 9. 142 David M. Bunis Following the middle of the seventeenth century, consonantal he in Judezmo Ottomanisms tended to be absent in the writings of most authors, as was the use of he in pre-vocalic position in lexemes of Hispanic origin (e.g., ‫ אזיר‬azer replaced ‫האזיר‬/-'‫פ‬ f-/hazer, reflecting Old Spanish fazer, which ultimately yielded hacer in Spanish). In the Hebrew tradition of the Ottoman Judezmo speakers the letter he became universally realized as phonological zero (that is, it had no phonological reflection). The Ottoman h/x/ḥ consonants came to be reflected almost entirely by x-denoting ḥet, or zero-denoting ’alef. Thus we find xoǧet <‫ >חוג'יט‬replacing earlier hoǧet <‫>הוג'יט‬ in the Salonika 1797-98 edition of the responsa of Šĕmu’el de Medina,154 and the plural form oǧetes <‫>אוג'יטיס‬, with etymological ḥ now realized as zero, in Xulí’s 1730 Mecam locez on Genesis (f. 14b). In his use of he in prevocalic position in Ottomanisms, Xulí tended to be more conservative than other Judezmo writers of his period. The he he used in the spelling <‫>האנביר‬, i.e., “hanber”, in example no. 1 above—the word undoubtedly being realized as an-/amber—is perhaps an attempt to reflect the ‘ayn of the Ottoman spelling ‫‘< عنبر‬nbr>; or perhaps it is a hypercorrection, hinting at the author’s familiarity with Judezmo spelling of the sixteenth century, when Hispanic word- initial f- (from Latin f-) was reflected as f-/h- <‫ה‬/'‫>פ‬. Xulí also used prevocalic he in a few other Ottomanisms: e.g., kahvé <‫‘ >קאהב'י‬Turkish coffee’ < T. kahve (no. 37 above), mehaná <‫‘ >מיהאנה‬tavern’ < T. meyhane (no. 73), zimbul hindí <‫זימבול‬ ‫‘ >הינדי‬spikenard’ < T. sümbüli hindi (no. 29). In writings by other authors of the late seventeenth through mid-eighteenth centuries one already finds the older sound reflected in these words as phonological zero, or x-indicating ḥet, instead of he: <‫ >קאווי‬kavé,155 <‫ >מיחאני‬mexané (Constantinople 1668) and <‫ >מיאני‬meané (1753),156 <‫ >זינבול אינדי‬zinbul indí (1746).157 Xulí also used obviously hypercorrect forms such 154 De Medina, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Maharašdam [Note 22 above], Ḥošen mišpaṭ, no. 15. 155 Cf. <‫‘ >אבק הקאווי‬the coffee powder’ (Pinto, Nivḥar mikesef [Note 20 above], no. 2); <‫( >קאוו"י‬Yacaqov ben Šĕmu’el Ḥagiz [=HaManiaḥ, b. Livorno 1620, d. Constantinople 1674], Sefer halaxot qĕṭanot, Venice, 1704 [republished Jerusalem 1994], no. 1). 156 Turkish h (Ottoman x, from Persian x) is reflected as x-denoting <‫ >ח‬in <‫ >מיחאני‬mexané, in Śalṭon, Bĕne Moše [Note 65 above], no. 45, from Constantinople 1668; and as phonological zero in <‫ >מיאני‬meané, in Magriso, Mecam locez [...] wayiqra [Note 58 above], f. 33b. 157 Turkish h (from Arabic h) is reflected as zero in <‫ >זינבול אינדי‬zinbul indí in Yiṣḥaq Magriso, Sefer mecam locez ḥeleq šeni misefer šĕmot, Constantinople 1746, f. 42b, who cites the word as Turkish: “El šibóleθ nerd [...] es una espesya ke se yama en franko espiko nardo i lo yaman en turkesko zinbul indí” ‘Spikenard [...] is a spice that is called in Romance [cf. I. spigonardo ‘wild ginger’, S. espicanardo ‘spikenard’] and they call it in Turkish zinbul indí’. 143 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo as have <‫ >האב'י‬for Spanish-origin ave ‘bird’ (e.g., 1733:282a; cf. S. ave < L. avis), demonstrating that for him, he had no consonantal value. In either case, Xulí—who could perhaps read Ottoman in the Arabic alphabet, which knowledge might have influenced his spelling of the Ottomanisms in his Judezmo—represents one of the last generations of Judezmo speakers to use he, even sporadically, in prevocalic (or pseudo-consonantal) position. Some of the culinary-related Ottomanisms cited above from Xulí’s texts from 1730 and 1733 also illustrate other types of sound changes which Ottomanisms underwent as they became acclimated in Judezmo. Xulí’s texts are from the eighteenth century, but some of the phonological shifts exemplified in it are already documented in the Early Middle period. One such feature is a tendency toward metathesis, or transposition of sounds, in lexemes having ‑ur‑, which shifts to ‑ru‑, as illustrated in truší ‘brine’ (no. 20), from Turkish turşu (cf. also Greek toursí). As was noted, this Judezmo metathesized form is already documented in a text from Salonika, 1568.158 As alluded to by Xulí, by his time the word had apparently replaced, or at least co- existed in Istanbul Judezmo, with the earlier borrowing from Greek for the same concept, salamura (no. 20). Xulí’s lexemes borekas a ‘kind of pastry’ (no. 34), from Turkish börek, burnú tutún ‘snuff’ (no. 2), from burnu tütün, and fistukes ‘pistachios’ (no. 13), from fıstık, illustrate an early set of vocalic adaptations: the widespread replacement of the Turkish rounded front vowels ö and ü by what were perceived as their closest correspondents in the primarily Hispanic-origin phoneme inventory of Judezmo, e and i, respectively, and that of the Turkish unrounded back vowel ı by i or u. The early incorporation of the word borekas, as well as of čanaka ‘pot’ < T. çanak (no. 49), is probably demonstrated by the final ‑a added to the bases, thereby Hispanizing the form and preventing word-final k, which runs counter to Hispanic phonological tendencies. However, borrowings documented from the late seventeenth century or later frequently showed final occlusives and other final consonants as in Turkish, without a vowel paragoge: e.g., simit ‘round, crisp bread’ < T. simit (no. 30), čorek ‘kind of round bread’ < T. çörek (no. 30), salep ‘hot orchid-root drink’ < T. salep (no. 46), pilaf ‘rice dish’ < T. pilaf (no. 45), tulum ‘skin bag’ < T. tulum (no. 56). This demonstrates that, by this time, the Sephardim had made some accommodations to the Turkish phonological system. 158 [Benveniste], Meza de el alma [Note 72 above], f. 37a. The medical manuscript from ca. 1600 published by Crews (“Medical Recipes in Judeo-Spanish” [Note 25 above], p. 259) contains another example: trup toumí ‘radish seeds’, cf. T. turp tohumu. 144 David M. Bunis On the other hand, into the modern era the Sephardim continued to maintain certain early accommodations to their earlier Hispanic-based phonology, such as the tendency to replace word-final ‑e by ‑a, as in estridya ‘oyster’ < istridye (no. 3), ǧivra ‘sesame residue’ < cibre (no. 14); a certain tendency to replace the palatalized velar gˊ with the affricate ǧ, e.g., anǧenaras ‘artichokes’ (no. 20), cf. T. enginar, G. anginára. The height of unstressed vowels sometimes shifted, e.g., šeftelí ‘peach’ < T. şeftali (no. 24), zerdelís ‘wild apricots’ < zerdali (no. 28), perhaps through assimilation to the adjacent high vowels. One also notes phenomena reminiscent of tendencies in Spanish such as: lenition of b > v in ǧivra ‘sesame residue’ < cibre (no. 15), a certain vacillation between l and r, as well as the addition of a prothetic e before word-initial s + consonant, both illustrated in eskalas ‘grills’, from Greek skára (no. 58), as well as the attraction of an ‑n to a word-final stressed vowel, as in tafsín ‘tray’ < T. tepsi (no. 44). There are also innovative shifts unique to Judezmo, e.g., the fortition of v into b in baklabás ‘flaky pastry’ < T. baklava (no. 32). Initial l- in librik ‘ewer’ (< T. ibrik, no. 53) is probably the result of the metanalysis of an earlier definite form el ibrik ‘the ewer’ as el librik. The forms of a few of the lexemes having parallels in several Balkan languages suggest borrowing from a source other than Turkish, e.g., kutí ‘box’ (no. 52), more closely resembling Greek koutí than Turkish kutu. 8. Grammatical categories of Ottomanisms and their structural features We can see from Xulí’s texts that, by the early eighteenth century, the Ottoman component of Judezmo was not restricted to nouns. From the late seventeenth century, other elements—scarcely represented until then—began to appear with greater frequency. These included previously undocumented: free-standing adjectives (e.g., mukaet159 ‘diligent, attentive’ < T. mukayyet < A. muqayyad; sakat160 ‘lame, physically defective’ < T. sakat < A. saqaṭ; inag-/inatčí161 ‘stubborn’ < T. inatçı (< 159 E.g., “No avías de estar tu mukaet de azer el mandamyento del Šem yiθbarax” ‘Were you not supposed to be diligent in performing a commandment of the [Holy] Name Blessed be He?’ (Magriso, Mecam locez ḥeleq šeni misefer šĕmot [Note 157 above], f. 17a). 160 E.g., “Nasyó sakat” ‘He was born lame’ (Xulí, Mecam locez [...] šĕmot [Note 99 above], f. 4b). 161 E.g., “Mira ke inagčí, ke le dišimos ke fwera kon nozotros i no kyižo” ‘Look what a stubborn person, because we told him to go with us and he refused’ (Pĕraḥya, Paraḥ maṭṭe ’Aharon [Note 27 above], no. 113, from Salonika 1680). 145 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo inat ‘stubbornness’ < A. ‘inād); teklifsís162 ‘informal’ < T. teklifsiz (< teklif ‘without ceremony’ < A. taklif), adverbs (e.g., kasten163 ‘intentionally, deliberately’ < T. kasten/-den < A. qaṣdan; beraber164 ‘together’ < T. beraber < P. berāber; yakindán165 ‘recently’ < T. yakından), conjunctions (e.g., amá166 ‘but’ < T. am(m)a < A. ’ammā; ándžak167 ‘only; but, however’ < T. ancak); and exclamations (e.g., vay168 ‘woe! alas!’ < T. vay; na169 ‘here (it is)! look!’ < T. na; bre170 ‘hey! you! look here!’ < T. b[i] re; keske171 <‫‘ >קיסקי‬if only, I wish’ < T. keşke < P. kāški). As we shall see, from the late seventeenth century, an ever-increasing number of morphologically derived Ottoman-origin verbs and adjectives, as well as bound morphemes affixed to bases of non-Ottoman origin, are evidenced as well. The structural innovations documented in the Late Middle period demonstrate a deepening familiarity with Turkish on the part 162 E.g., “azerse amigo dél [...] kon aregalarlo de vez en vez asta ke le kovre amistad i esté teklifsís kon él” ‘to become friends with him [...] by giving him gifts from time to time until he receives friendship from him and is informal with him’ (Xulí, Mecam locez [...] šĕmot [Note 99 above], f. 139b). 163 E.g., “Lo izo kasten” ‘He did it intentionally’ (Xulí, Mecam locez [...] bĕrešit [Note 53 above], f. 222a). 164 Cf. “Izo beraber su kavod kon el kavod de el Še[m]”yiθ[barax]” ‘He equated [‘put together’] his own honor with that of the [Holy] Name Blessed be He’ (Yiṣḥaq bĕxar Šĕmarya Argwete, Sefer mecam locez ḥeleq rišon šel sefer dĕvarim, Constantinople 1773, f. 32a). 165 E.g., “La letra franseza ke vino yakindán del rey de Fransya” ‘The French letter that came recently from the king of France’ (‘Aṭias, La gwerta de oro [Note 138 above], f. ia). 166 E.g., “Kome i beve amá es kon sar grande” ‘He eats and drinks, but it is with great affliction’ (anon., Qol mĕvaser, Constantinople ab 1755, f. 39a). 167 E.g., “Para el oro ke se tuvo demenester para el miškán ánǧak pudo abastar dita kantidad para dos kozas, no mas” ‘Of the gold that was needed for the altar, this amount could barely suffice for two objects and no more’ (Magriso, Mecam locez ḥeleq šeni misefer šĕmot [Note 157 above], f. 110a). 168 E.g., “Vay de fulano” ‘Woe unto So-and-so’ (Xulí, Mecam locez [...] bĕrešit [Note 53 above], f. 37b). 169 E.g., “Na, toma este dinero i anda, mérkate i kome!” ‘Here, take this money and go, buy it for yourself and eat’ (’Asa, Šulḥan hamelex [Note 104 above], f. 222b). 170 E.g., “Ya [...] te remango las aldas, bre putora, bre bagaša!” ‘I’ll make a mess of you, [hey] you whore, [hey] you low piece of baggage’ (’Avraham Toledo, Koplas de Yosef Asadik alav ašalom, Constantinople 1755 [1st ed. 1732], f. 11b). 171 E.g., “Keske [...] un día ya veremos ke kaerá en mwestras manos” ‘If only one day we see him fall into our hands’ (Toledo, Koplas de Yosef Asadik alav ašalom [Note 170 above], f. 6a). 146 David M. Bunis of the Jews as a group, who by this time have heard and spoken Turkish, in various forms, for over two centuries. 8.1 Gender and inflectional morphology As was mentioned, the pluralization of Ottomanisms through the suffixation of Hispanic-origin plural -(e)s is documented from the Early Middle Judezmo period. It is only toward the Late Middle period that the fusion within a single lexeme of other inflectional morphemes and bases of diverse origins—Hispanic, Ottoman, and Hebrew—seems to become widespread as well. 8.1.1 Substantives In the Early Middle period, the gender of Ottoman borrowings had not yet been fixed decisively; thus in a text from 1543 we find the noun phrase kaplamá eskuro ‘dark jacket’ (< T. kaplama), displaying a Turkish noun with final -á qualified by a masculine adjective.172 By the Late Middle period the gender of such nouns would be feminine (e.g., la dolalmá ‘fireworks’ [< T. donanma] in a text from 1778),173 unless the semantic reference was to a male (el pašá ‘the pashah’).174 The plural form leblebizes ‘roasted chick-peas’ (Xulí, 1733, no. 17), from Turkish leblebi, is pleonastic. Perhaps under the influence of Hispanic-origin words with stem- final ‑ís such as Judezmo perdís ‘partridge’ (cf. S. perdiz, pl. perdices), the probable earlier plural, leblebís,175 was reinterpreted as a singular, leading to the redundant plural, leblebizes. Later on in the Late Middle period, the word was also to be found in the metathesized form bilibizes,176 which is the form most commonly used today. In the Early Middle Period, the Ottomanisms in Judezmo had pluralized almost exclusively with Hispanic-origin -(e)s. But by the late seventeenth century, with the link to Spanish as spoken in Spain long broken and the internal trend toward fusion 172 De Medina, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Maharašdam, ’Even hacezer [Note 22 above], no. 53, from 1543. 173 ‘Aṭias, La gwerta de oro (Note 138 above), f. 63a. 174 E.g., pašá is feminine in Nehama, Dictionnaire du judéo-espagnol (Note 21 above), p. 417. 175 The plural leblebís seems only to be documented in the modern period (e.g., Zelda Ovadia, “Gastronomia sefaradi”, Aki Yerushalayim, no. 89 <leblebis>). 176 Cf. “Los bilibizes, [...] su beraxá es boré perí aadamá ‘Over toasted chickpeas, [...] the benediction is “Who brings forth fruit from the earth” ’ (Ben ’Avraham ‘of Štip’, Tiqqune hanefeš, vol. 2 [Note 111 above], f. 53a). 147 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo of components intensifying, one also finds instances of Ottomanisms with word-final stress pluralizing with Hebrew-origin morphemes: -im/-ín (-‫ין‬-/‫)ים‬, for masculine nouns (e.g., pl. felaxim177 < felax178 ‘peasant farmer’ < T. fellâh < A. fallāḥ]), and -od 179,)‫ות‬-( for feminines (e.g., kasabod180 < kasabá181 ‘small town’ < T. kasaba < A. qaṣaba).182 8.1.2 Adjectives In Early Middle Judezmo, the relatively few adjectives of Ottoman origin were not yet well integrated structurally within the Judezmo grammatical system. Judezmo adjectives originating in Turkish—a language which does not use grammatical gender—did not yet systematically show the overt, Hispanic-origin masculine/ feminine gender distinction which came to be characteristic of substantives and adjectives belonging to all linguistic components of later Judezmo. For example, in a text from 1551 the plural form sopalís, from Turkish sopalı ‘striped with gold thread’ 177 “Me venían felaxim <‫ >פלחים‬i me dezian ‘Porké no demandas la sangre de tu padre? Akel felax <‫>פלאח‬, es él ke lo mató [...] Kwando ivan de Šexem […] los toparon felaxín <‫‘ ”>פלאחין‬Peasants came to me and said “Why don’t you demand revenge for your father? That peasant, he’s the one who killed him’ [...] When they were leaving Shechem [...] peasants found them’ (Šĕmu’el Garmezán [b. Salonika, 1605?, d. c. 1675], Sefer mišpĕṭe ṣedeq, Jerusalem 1945, no. 98, from 1665). 178 Singular felax is already documented in Ottoman Sephardic Hebrew in the late sixteenth century; e.g., "‫] הפלא"ח‬...[ ‫‘ "היה מדבר עם פל"ח א' מכירו‬He was speaking with a certain peasant, an acquaintance of his [...] the peasant’ (Mitrani, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Mabbiṭ, vol. 2, part 2 [Note 37 above], no. 220, from 1579). 179 The variant plural felaxes is also documented (e.g., Xulí, Mecam locez [...] bĕrešit [Note 53 above], f. 164a). 180 E.g., “Le dešó a·él su padre mil kasabod por lo seko i mil naves por la mar” ‘His father left him 1,000 towns on dry land and 1,000 ships at sea’ (Rĕ’uven Ben ’Avraham ‘of Štip’, Sefer tiqqune hanefeš, vol. 1, Salonika 1765, f. 64b). 181 The singular, kasabá, already appears in the seventeenth century; e.g., Yosef ben Moše Mitrani (Mahariṭ, b. Safed, 1568, d. 1639), Tĕšuvot ufisqe Maharit haḥadašim, Tsvi Yehoshua Leitner (ed.), Maxon Yĕrušalayim – Mif‘al ’Or Hamizraḥ, Jerusalem 1978, no. 7: "‫‘ "יש לחם בקאצאבה לקנות‬There’s bread to buy in the town’. 182 In the sixteenth century the plural kasabás, with Hispanic -s, appears: "‫והיה יושב בחנות‬ ‫‘ "באנדרינופולי מוכר באשריות ליהודים ותוגרמים גוים סוחרי הקאשאבאש‬and he used to sit in a shop in Edirne selling on credit to Jews and Muslims, merchants of the towns’ (Moše Alšex [1508-1600], Sefer šĕ’elot utšuvot, Venice 1605 [reprinted B’nai Brak 1984, ed. Yom Ṭov Porges], no. 42). 148 David M. Bunis + Hispanic-origin pluralizing -s, with no overt feminine marker, was used to qualify feminine plural tokas ‘head-coverings’.183 But in the Late Middle period we begin to find Hispanic-origin ‑a added to Ottoman-origin adjectives with -lí qualifying feminine nouns; e.g., misirlía letra ‘Egyptian (Arabic) script’ (from Turkish mısırlı), occurring in a text from Istanbul 1755.184 This use was to become widespread in Late Modern Judezmo.185 Nevertheless, through Late Modern Judezmo, only number, but not gender, is distinguished in Ottoman-origin adjectives ending in a consonant, as in Spanish. This is illustrated in the plural form (nwezes) xames ‘unripe (nuts)’, from Turkish ham (from Persian xām) + Hispanic-origin plural ‑es (in Xulí’s text from 1733, no. 27 above). Turkish does not distinguish number in adjectives; perhaps under its influence, and as opposed to Hispanic syntax, number is not overtly distinguished at all in certain of the Ottoman-origin adjectives borrowed into Judezmo during the Late Middle period, e.g., kadir ‘able, capable’ (< T. kadir < A. qādir), which is used to qualify plural as well as singular nouns (vs. synonymous S. sg. capaz, pl. capaces).186 8.2 Derivational morphology In the transition from Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo, one notes an increase in the number of Hispanic-origin affixes used to derive new substantives, verbs, and adjectives from Ottoman bases. In the Late Middle period, the use of Ottoman-origin bound morphemes with non-Ottoman bases also begins to be documented. 183 Cf. "‫‘ "וטוקאש לבנות מושלכות ר[וצה]"ל[ומר] סופליש‬and white striped hats, i.e., [having] gold stripes’ (Karo, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Bet Yosef […] ’Even hacezer, Goy meśiaḥ lĕfi tummo, no. 2, from 1551). 184 Cf. “En gran misirlía letra, en lingwaže de moriško ‘In large Egyptian letters, in the Arabic language’ (Toledo, Koplas de Yosef Asadik [Note 170 above], f. 3b). 185 That the overt gender distinction m. ‑lí vs. f. ‑lía had still not been completely systematized in the Early Modern Judezmo period may be seen in a form such as pl. vedrolís ‘greenish’ (cf. J. vedre [S. verde] ‘green’, T. ‑li, S. ‑s) qualifying a feminine noun in: “En el kavo de la Afrika ay ǧente ke sus vistas son vedrolís” ‘At the end of Africa there are people whose appearance is greenish’ (Pinḥas ’Eliyyahu Ben Me’ir, Sefer habĕrit [...] en avla muy linpya, tr. ’Avraham Benveniste Gatenyo, Salonika 1847, f. 52b). 186 E.g., cf. “Son kadir a pelear kon todo el mundo” ‘They are capable of fighting with everyone’ (anon. tr., Sefer ’Eldad hadani, Constantinople 1766, f. 12b). 149 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo 8.2.1 Substantives 8.2.1.1 Hypocoristics. Hypocoristic forms of Ottoman common nouns, created through the suffixing of Hispanic-origin (default) ‑iko (cf. S. ‑ico), as well as (phonologically conditioned) ‑ito and ‑eziko (cf. S. ‑ito, -ecico), are already documented in the Early Middle period.187 Their numbers increase greatly in the Late Middle period, as exemplified by food-related terms such as finǧaniko ‘little coffee cup’ (no. 61 above) and kapakito ‘little lid’ (no. 63) occurring in Xulí’s texts. Also in the Late Middle period one begins to find Hispanic-origin pejorative suffixes added to Ottoman bases, e.g., čelebako188 ‘(derogatory) gentleman, finicky man’ (in a text from 1764), from čelebí ‘(finicky) gentleman’ < T. çelebi + Hispanic-origin -ako (cf. S. ‑aco). 8.2.1.2 Other derived substantives. Some neologisms created through the fusion of Hispanic-origin derivational suffixes to Ottoman and other local bases are already noted in the Early Middle period. These include: (1) agent forms with Hispanic-origin ‑ero, such as xaraǧero ‘tax collector’ (documented from Salonika 1525), from xarač ‘tax’ (< T. haraç < A. xarāǧ),189 and feminines with -esa, a suffix perhaps of Italian origin (‑essa), such as naziresa ‘female administrator, superintendent’ (from Istanbul 1590), from nazir (< T. nazır < A. nāẓir);190 (2) names of nations with -ía such as 187 For examples see David M. Bunis, “Ottoman Judezmo Diminutives and Other Hypocoristics”, in Frank Alvarez-Pereyre & Jean Baumgarten (eds.), Linguistique des langues juives et linguistique générale, CNRS, Paris 2003, pp. 193–246. 188 “Esta komida [...] no inče, ke es komida de delikados i de čelebakos” ‘This food is not filling, because it is the food of delicate people and would-be gentlemen’ (Magriso, Mecam locez […] bĕmidbar [Note 141 above], f. 97b). 189 Cf. sg. "‫‘ "לא היה כראגי'רו‬he was not a tax collector’ (Adarbi, Divre rivot [Note 34 above], no. 56), pl. <‫ >חאראג'ירוש‬xaraǧeros (ibid., no. 59, from 1525). 190 E.g., "‫] והנה עד היום חוש"י והנאזי"ריסה‬...[ ‫] להיותה נאזירי"סה מפי המת‬...[ ‫] מרת אישטראפולה‬...[ ‫הוכרחו‬ ‫‘ "שומרי משמרת קיום הצוואה של הנפטר‬Ms. Estrapula [...] was proven [...] to be the administrator as stated by the deceased [...] and in fact to this day Xuši and the female administrator are responsible for the execution of the deceased’s will’ (Ben Ḥayyim, Ḥeleq rišon mitĕšuvot šĕ’elot, vol. 1 [Note 22 above], no. 97, from Istanbul 1590). The suffix may also be read -isa. On these agent suffixes in Judezmo see David M. Bunis, “A Theory of Hebrew-Based Fusion Lexemes in Jewish Languages as Illustrated by Animate Nouns in Judezmo and Yiddish”, Mediterranean Language Review 16 (2005), pp. 1-115. 191 E.g., “Fweron [...] a Blaxía <‫‘ ”>בלאחיא‬They went to Wallachia’ (Yosef ’Elcazar of Sofia in De Medina, Ḥošen mišpaṭ [Note 22 above], no. 16, from 1577). 192 E.g., “ke se bolvyese a poner orden en su estado o dukado o sanǧakado” ‘that he return and put order in his state or duchy or territory (i.e., T. sancak) he controlled’ (cf. Romeu, Moisés Almosnino: Crónica de los Reyes Otomanos [Note 26 above], p. 102). 150 David M. Bunis Blaxía ‘Wallachia’ (documented from Sofia 1577), from South Slavic Vlah (cf. also toponymic Vlahija);191 (3) names with ‑ado denoting regions, such as sanǧakado ‘a subdivision of an Ottoman province’, from Turkish sancak.192 As the Jewish familiarity with, and active use of, Turkish increased toward the Late Middle period, so too did the prevalence of similar fusion neologisms, with additional Hispanic-origin suffixes. Some of them denoted actions, e.g., (1) denominal forms with ‑ada (S. ‑ada), such as toyakada193 ‘blow with a stick’, from toyaká ‘cudgel’ (< T. toyaka), in a text from Belgrade 1664, and kir-/kurbačada194 ‘whipping’ < kirbač ‘whip’ (< T. kırbaç), from Istanbul 1763; and (2) names of language varieties with -esko (S. ‑esco) , such as denominal felaxesko195 ‘language of peasants’, from felax ‘peasant’ (< T. fellah < A. fallāḥ). But such neologisms now also included denotations of more abstract concepts as well, such as deverbal nouns with the suffixes: (1) ‑dura (S. ‑dura), e.g., čatleadura196 ‘crack’ (< čatlear ‘to crack’ < T. çatla-), from Istanbul 1730; (2) ‑myento (S. ‑miento), e.g., sikileamyento197 ‘boredom, annoyance; shame’ (< sikilear[se] < T. sıkıl-), from Istanbul 1753; and (3) -syón (S. ‑ción), e.g., artirasyón198 ‘raising of a price’, from artirear (< T. artır- +), from Istanbul 1778. 193 E.g., “Vido ke er[a]’ Yišmael [...], ečado de boka ariva ke paresía ke avlava, i tenía toyakadas en la kavesa ke kon toyakadas lo mataron” ‘He saw that it was Yišma’el [...], lying with his mouth up so he looked as if he were speaking, and he had marks from blows with a cudgel on his head because with cudgel blows they killed him’ (Moše ben Nissim Benveniste [1606-1677], Šĕ’elot utšuvot pĕne Moše, vol. 1, Constantinople 1669 [reprinted Jerusalem 1988], no. 84, from Belgrade 1664). 194 E.g., “Los malaxim [...] me golpean kon kirbačadas de fwego” ‘The angels [...] strike me with whippings of fire’ (Yiṣḥaq Abohav, Sefer mĕnorat hama’or en ladino, ’Avraham ben Yiṣḥaq ’Asa [tr.], Constantinople 1762, f. 9a); “Los iryó sesenta kurbačadas de fwego” ‘He wounded them with seventy whippings of fire’ (anon. tr., Pĕṭirat Moše Rabbenu, Constantinople 1763, f. 6b). 195 E.g., “Una kantiga en felaxesko” ‘A song in the language of the peasants’ (Xulí, Mecam locez [...] bĕrešit [Note 53 above], f. 157a). 196 E.g., “Pinos [...] sin aver en eyos ningún inyudo ni čatleadura” ‘pines not having in them any knot or crack’ (Xulí, Mecam locez [...] bĕrešit [Note 53 above], f. 216a). 197 E.g., “Una de las siboθ ke vyenen los negaim es de sikileamyento i gastamyento de sangre” ‘One of the reasons that plagues come is from boredom/depression and spending of blood’ (Magriso, Mecam locez [...] wayiqra [Note 58 above], f. 49+2b). 198 E.g., “Amán, kon artirasyón, kižo azer konsumisyón i el Dyo se lo baldóˮ ‘Haman, offering a high price, wanted to annihilate [the Jews] and God nullified it’ (Koplas nwevas, Constantinople 1778, f. 1b). 151 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo Evidence of fusion formations employed by Judezmo speakers in which lexemes of Turkish and Hebrew origin combined to yield new compounds responding to Jewish life under the Ottoman administration began to appear in the sixteenth century. These included kabar baší199 ‘chief gravedigger’ < J. kabar ‘gravedigger’ (< H. ‫ קבר‬kabbar ‘gravedigger’) + T. başı ‘its head’ (< baş); rav axčasí200 ‘tax paid by the chief rabbi of the Ottoman Empire’ < J. rav ‘(chief) rabbi’ (< H. ‫ רב‬rav) + T. akçe(si), regional (e.g., Anatolian) ahçe(si) ‘its (Ottoman historical) small silver coin; money’; kaṣav akčasí201 ‘(kosher) butcher’s tax’ < J. kasav ‘butcher’ (<H. ‫ קצב‬kaṣav) + T. akçesi (from 1589). From the late seventeenth century, when the Judezmo speech group as a whole had attained a greater level of competence in Turkish than their immigrant ancestors, bound morphemes of Turkish origin, too, began to be incorporated into the active derivational system of Ottoman Judezmo, attaching themselves to bases of non-Ottoman as well as Ottoman origin. Interestingly, the earliest such coinages are forms in which the non-Ottoman base bears a resemblance to an existing, nearly synonymous Ottoman base. In some instances the two bases may both have occurred with the same bound morpheme as variants. The neologism magazenǧí202 ‘warehouse owner’, occurring in a text from 1658, is a fusion of Judezmo magazén ‘warehouse’ and the Turkish suffix ‑cı, widely reflected in the languages of all peoples in contact with the Ottomans.203 The Judezmo fusion was perhaps influenced by Turkish mağazacı ‘shopkeeper’ < 199 E.g., "‫] למנות בחור א' תוך חברת הקברים לחבר ולגבאי והקבא"ר באש"י היה מן הרוב המסכימים‬...[ ‫הסכימו‬ ‫‘ "בדבר הזה‬They agreed [...] to appoint a certain young man as a member and treasurer of the fellowship of gravediggers and the chief gravedigger was among the majority of those who agreed to the thing’ (Basan, Šĕ’elot utšuvot [Note 20 above], no. 22). 200 E.g., "‫‘ "ממה שפורעים על הרב אחגי"שי‬from what they settled on the rabbi’s tax’ (Karo, Šĕ’elot utšuvot ’avqat roxel [Note 151 above], no. 205). For discussion see Mina Rosen, A History of the Jewish Community in Istanbul: The Formative Years, 1453-1566, Brill, Leiden & al. 2002, pp. 27-33. The earliest evidence of payment of this tax is from July 1480 (ibid., p. 29). 201 E.g., "‫] צלגי"ן ואברי"ז וכל הנוסף וקצב אקגאס"י‬...[ ‫פטרו לראובן הנז' פיטורין גמורין מכל מיני משחית‬ ‫‘ "וסרפלי"ק‬They exempted the said Rĕ’uven completely from all manner of [financial] burdens [... such as] the annual tribute [cf. T. salgın] and the extraordinary tax [cf. T. avarız < A. ‘awariz] and all the added taxes and the butcher’s tax and money-changer’s fee’ [cf. T. sarraflık < A. ṣarrāf + T. ‑lık]’ (Basan, Šĕ’elot utšuvot [Note 20 above], no. 42). 202 E.g., "‫‘ "והיה יחיאל הנז' מאגאזינג'י במצרים‬and the said Yĕḥi’el was a warehouse owner/worker in Egypt’ (Benveniste, Pĕne Moše, vol. 1 [Note 193 above], no. 15, from 1658). 203 For a detailed look at the incorporation of ‑ci in Judezmo lexemes with Hebrew bases, see Bunis, “A Theory of Hebrew-Based Fusion Lexemes” [Note 190 above], pp. 57-68. 152 David M. Bunis mağaza ‘warehouse’ (< F. magasin? < A. maxāsin); but while Judezmo magazén is well documented in the sixteenth century,204 Turkish-origin magaza only appears in Judezmo texts in the twentieth century.205 Bases both of Turkish and Hispanic origin appear in the variants denoting ‘spinach seller’ found in a responsum from Istanbul 1665: ispanakčí <‫( >איספאנאקג"י‬cf. T. ıspanakçı < ıspanak ‘spinach’ < G. ispanáki) and espinačí206 <‫( >איספינאג"י‬cf. J. espinaka [S. espinaca] ‘spinach’). In the fusion pizmonǧí ‘singer of Jewish religious songs’, occurring in a text from Salonika 1773, the base is Hebrew-origin pizmón (‫‘ )פזמון‬religious song’, which lacks a parallel with a homophonous base in Turkish—although Turkish has structurally and semantically analogous ilahici ‘singer of Muslim hymns’ (< T. ilâhi < A. ilāhī ‘hymn’ + T. -ci)— thus demonstrating the productive status attained by this time by the suffix ‑ǧí. From this point the suffix began to occur increasingly with non-Ottoman as well as Ottoman bases, irrespective of Turkish analogues.207 The first appearance of the Judezmo reflex of Turkish -lı (noted above in section 8.1.2) with a non-Ottoman base, too, seems first to appear with a base having a Turkish near-homonym: distinctively Judezmo Rodes208 ‘Rhodes’ (cf. T. Rodos < G. Ródos; 204 E.g., "‫‘ "אותו מאגאזין ששכר מהגוי‬the same warehouse that he rented from the Gentile’ (Karo, Šĕ’elot utšuvot ’avqat roxel [Note 151 above], no. 119). 205 Cf. hypocoristic magaziko ‘little storeroom’ in ‘Alexander’ (i.e., Gavri’el) Benghiatt’s periodical El meseret 8:24 (Izmir 1904), p. 5. 206 This form alternated with Turkish-origin ispanakčí (cf. T. ıspanakçı < ıspanak ‘spinach’ < G. ispanáki): e.g., "‫] האיספינאג"י‬...[ ‫‘ "יאודה הכהן האיספאנאקג"י‬Yĕhuda Hakohen the spinach seller [...] the spinach seller’ (Benveniste, Šĕ’elot utšuvot pĕne Moše, vol. 1 [Note 193 above], no. 36, from Istanbul 1665). 207 Although they were probably used before, feminine forms with -ǧía do not appear textually until the second half of the nineteenth century, e.g., f.pl. dabuǧías ‘female plaintiffs, claimants’ (< SC. davudžija < T. dâvacı < T. dava ‘lawsuit, complaint’ < A. da‘wā + T. -cı [cf. Abdulah Škaljić, Turcizmi u srpskohrvatskom jeziku, Svjetlost, Sarajevo 1966, p. 208] ), e.g., “Kun pinsar ki lus maridus no ganan kulay, [...] eyas si agan dabuǧías i dimandaderas ‘Thinking that their husbands do not earn their living easily, [...] they [their wives] should become claimants and seekers [of their welfare]’ (’Elicezer Papo, Sefer pele yoceṣ [...] in ladinu, Yĕhuda Papo (tr.), Schlossberg, Vienna 1870, f. 200); f.sg. kiraǧía ‘female tenant’ (< T. kiraci < kira ‘rent’ < A. kirā’) (Salomon Israel Cherezli, Nwevo čiko diksyonaryo žudeo-espanyol/fransés, ’Avraham Moše Lunz, Jerusalem 1898-99, vol. 2, p. 219). 208 The Judezmo form Rodes is known from at least the sixteenth century; e.g., "‫מעשה שהיה כך‬ ‫[ היה כי קהל קדוש רודיש‬...]" ‘An incident happened that in the holy congregation of Rhodes [...]’ (De Medina, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Maharašdam [Note 22 above], Yore deca, no. 53). 153 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo S. Rodas). In a text from 1668 we find rodeslí209 <‫ >רודיסלי‬which, like its Turkish correspondent Rodoslu (Ottoman Rodosli), can function as a substantive or adjective. Other nominatives/adjectives in which -lí occurs with a non-Ottoman base are known from the mid-nineteenth century.210 8.2.2 Synthetic verbs Judezmo texts from the Early Middle period begin to document the creation of synthetic verbs having Ottoman-origin bases and the Hispanic-origin verbalizer ‑ear.211 For example, in a responsum of Šĕmuel de Medina from 1577 we find the phrase “Kyero imzalear el oǧet212 del xaser” ‘I want to have the title deed of the courtyard officially signed’. The stem of imzalear ‘to sign’ is Turkish imzala-, itself derived from Arabic ’imzā’ and Turkish denominal verbalizing ‑la-. Texts from the late seventeenth century document a few more such verbs, and also illustrate a change in the structure of some of them which occurred during this period: those derived from Turkish verbal stems ending in a vowel, such as imzala-, now tended to receive the verbalizing suffix ‑dear, an interesting fusion of the -d- occurring in Turkish verbs in the past definite tense (e.g., imzaladı ‘he signed’) and Hispanic-origin ‑ear.213 The infix -d- enabled the preservation of the Ottoman stem in its entirety with the suffixing of ‑ear. 209 E.g., "‫בעיר רודיס בא דיר"ויש א' ואמר שני יהודים שנכנסו בפורקאטה באיסקינדיריאה שהאחד היה שמו‬ ‫] וראו אותם אנשי[ם]' עברים‬...[ ‫ג"יליבי כהן איסטאנבולי ואחד רודיסלי הרגו אותם בעלי הפורקאטה ההיא‬ ‫‘ " ']רודיסלי[ס‬In the city of Rhodes (Rodes) a dervish [J. dervíš < T. derviş < P. darvīš] came and said, “Two Jews who boarded a light frigate [J. furkata, cf. T. firkata < I. fregata] in Alexandria, one of them named Čelebí [J. čelebí < T. çelebi ‘gentleman’ < Çelep ‘God’ + A. -ī] Koen, a resident of Istanbul (J. estanbulí, cf. T. İstanbullu, Ottoman İstanbulli), and one a resident of Rhodes (rodeslí), the owners of that frigate killed them” [...] and passersby who were residents of Rhodes (rodeslí’[s]) saw them’ (Moše ben Nissim Benveniste [1606-1677], Šĕ’elot utšuvot pĕne Moše, vol. 2, Constantinople 1671 [reprinted Jerusalem 1988], no. 13, from 1668). 210 See Bunis, “A Theory...” [Note 190 above], pp. 76-77. 211 On such verbs as used in Late Modern Judezmo, see Haïm Vidal Sephiha, “L’hispaniseur -ear en judéoespagnol”, Travaux X, Aspects des civilisations ibériques (1974), Saint- Etienne, pp. 85-93; Michael Studemund, “Balkanspanisch und Balkanlinguistik: Die balkanspanischen Verba auf -ear”, Forschung und Lehre (Festschrift Johannes Schröpfer), Slav. Seminar, Hamburg 1975, pp. 400-409. 212 For discussion of the word, see section 5 above. 213 The later form is illustrated in the synonymous variant emzaladear ‘to sign’, documented for twentieth-century Sofia Judezmo (Isaac Moskona, “On Some Influences on ‘Judezmo’ – the 154 David M. Bunis An apparent scuffle between a Jew and Christians in Istanbul 1680, and the Jew’s having wounded several of them before he was beheaded from behind, was described by Moše ‘Arama in the following words: “Estando en la kal‘é, se adelantó dito Salamoniko i abašó abašo i čengleseó <‫ >ג'ינגליסיאו‬kon los kistyanos i yaradeó <‫ >יאראדיאו‬a·dos o tres de eyos” ‘While inside the fortress walls, this Salamoniko advanced and went down and fought with the Christians and wounded two or three of them’.214 The base of the second verb is Turkish 3sg. past definite yaradı—denoting in Turkish ‘was useful, suitable’, but logically understood by the Jews to denote ‘wounded’, from Turkish yara ‘wound’ (in Turkish ‘wounded’ is in fact yaraladı < yara ‘wound’ + denominal verbalizing -la- + past definite -dı). The first verb, presuming an infinitive čenglesear/-šear, seems to derive from Turkish cenkleş- ‘to fight, quarrel’ (< ceng ‘fight’ < P. ǧeng) which, since the base has a final consonant, attracts 3sg. preterite indicative ‑eó (< -ear). More Ottoman-origin verbs appear in testimony from Istanbul 1686 concerning a boat lost at sea: a passenger reported “Mos se batireó <‫ >באטיריאו‬el kaik” ‘The boat sank’. A Jewish passenger, unable to keep himself afloat by holding onto wreckage, was heard to say “Ya no pwedo yo mas day[a]near <‫‘ ”>דאייניאר‬I can’t hold on any longer’.215 These two locally incorporated verbs, batirearse and dayanear, derive from Turkish batır- (cf. causative ‑ır‑) ‘(intransitive) to sink, be sunk’ and dayan- ‘to support, hold’. A literary text published by Moshe Lazar and believed to be from the seventeenth century offers two more instances of Turkish verbal stems attracting the Hispanic- origin verbalizer. The transitive verb šašear ‘to bewilder, surprise’ and its intransitive correspondent šašearse (cf. T. şaş- ‘to be surprised, bewildered’, şaşır- ‘to be confused about; lose one’s head over’) appear in the phrases “Este moso ke tyenes en tu kaza, mos šašeó de mirarlo, ke no pudimos kitar los ožos de él de ver su ermozura[...]” “Por un poko ke lo vísteš, vos šašeásteš de verlo?” ‘This young man whom you have in your house, it stunned us to look at him, so that we couldn’t take our eyes from him, seeing his beauty’. ‘From just the short time that you saw him, you swooned Language of the Balkan Jews”, Annual [of the Social, Cultural, and Educational Association of the Jews in the People’s Republic of Bulgaria] 11 (Sofia 1976), 173-194 (p. 182). 214 ’Aharon Alfandari [b. Izmir, c. 1700-1774], Sefer yad ’Aharon, vols. 1-2, Izmir 1756-66, no. 6; Moše Ḥayyim Šabbĕtay, Torat Moše, Salonika 1797 [reprinted Jerusalem 2004], Ḥošen mišpaṭ, no. 28. 215 Alfandari, Muṣal me’eš [=Note 73 above], vol. 2 no. 2, from Istanbul 1686. 155 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo to see him?’216 The verb yamaladear ‘to plunder’ occurs in the sentence: “I dešaron ižos de Yaakov dyes ombres de su ǧente para yamaladear <‫ >ייאמאלאדיאר‬la sifdad de Tapúax” ‘And the sons of Jacob left ten men of their people to plunder the city of Tapuah’.217 The base of the verb is Turkish yağmaladı, 3sg. past definite of yağmala- ‘to plunder’ < yağma ‘plunder’ (realized in modern urban Turkish as [ja:’ma], but in Judezmo generally as [jaγ’ma], as in rural/eastern/pre-modern Turkish). These late-seventeenth-century fusion verbs probably exemplify many more already used in speech of the period. Numerous others are documented in Judezmo texts from the early eighteenth century. One of them, aburuntar ‘to sniff, smell’, occurring in Xulí’s 1730 discussion of the patriarch Isaac (on f. 148b), illustrates the coining of synthetic verbs from Turkish substantives: “Despwés aburuntó Yisxak ke akel gwezmo era de gan eden” ‘Afterwards Isaac smelled that that fragrance was from Paradise’. The base is burun ‘nose’, verbalized with the voiceless correspondent of the Turkish infix -d- cited above (i.e., -tı) and Hispanic-origin verbalizing a-[base]- ar.218 Another such verb, pizmear219 ‘to be stubborn, look for excuses’, is an example of a verb reflecting a Greek base (cf. G. peîsma ‘obstinacy’). 8.2.3 Analytic verbs Turkish has a rich inventory of analytic or ‘light’ verbs, constructed of formally invariant meaning-providing complements, particularly substantives of Arabic and other non-Turkish origins, and auxiliary verbs such as et- and eyle- ‘to do, make’. Early Middle Judezmo displays numerous parallel analytic verbs and verbal idioms, several employing as the auxiliary the synonymous verb f/-(h)azer. Examples of such constructions in sixteenth-seventeenth century Judezmo include: (h)azer teftiš ‘to investigate’ (cf. T. teftiş [< A. taftīš] et-),220 (h)azer šematá ‘to make a big noise, cause 216 Lazar, Sēfer ha-yāšār [Note 72 above], p. 284. 217 Lazar, Sēfer ha-yāšār [Note 72 above], p. 250, offers the transcription <yahmaladear>, i.e., yaxmaladear, which is one of its variants in Modern Judezmo; but in the Hebrew-letter text reproduced in Lazar’s volume the spelling is ‫ייאמאלאדיאר‬, with etymological -ğ- receiving zero phonological representation, in fact reminiscent of modern urban Turkish. Perhaps the -h- was inserted by a Modern Judezmo-speaking assistant responsible for the transcription. 218 Note that Turkish expresses ‘to sniff’ by means of analytic burunu çekmek. 219 E.g., “El ke pizmea i no kere meldar […]” ‘He who is stubborn and refuses to study […]’ (Abohav [tr. ’Asa], Mĕnorat hama’or [Note 194 above], f. 48a). 220 E.g., “Nos dezía ke ya avía mandado (h)azer teftíš” ‘He told us that he had already ordered them to investigate’ (cf. Romeu, Moisés Almosnino [Note 26 above], p. 256). 156 David M. Bunis an uproar’ (cf. T. şamata et-),221 fazer fesat222 ‘to misbehave, make or plot mischief’ (cf. T. obsolete fesat [< A. fasād] et-), hazer yaγmá223 ‘to plunder’ (cf. T. yağma et-), hazer arze224 ‘to present official papers about a certain matter to a superior’ (T. arzet- [< A. ‘arż]), azer raet225 ‘to show consideration, entertain’ (cf. T. riayet [< A. ri‘āya(t)] et-), azer zefk(e)226 ‘to enjoy oneself’ (cf. T. zevk [< A. zawq] et-). In the early eighteenth century, textual examples of analytic verbs and Turkish- origin verbal calques became more numerous. Mirroring their Turkish models, some also featured Hispanic-origin auxiliary verbs other than (f)-/(h)azer. Many of the calques incorporated Ottomanisms; e.g., bever tutún227 ‘to smoke (literally, drink) a 221 E.g., “Para esto venites akí, par[a] […] fazer šematá?” ‘For this you came here, to make a lot of noise?’ (Ḥaviv Amato in De Medina, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Maharašdam, Ḥošen mišpaṭ [Note 22 above], no. 5). 222 E.g., “Vinyeron dos turkos a·la boda kon unas ga(l)yinas i dišeron ke avían fečo un fesat” ‘Two Turks came to the wedding with chickens and said they had made some mischief’ (Hakohen Pĕraḥya, Paraḥ maṭṭe ’Aharon, vol. 3 [Note 27 above], no. 103, from Salonika 1595). 223 E.g., “Los ǧenízares […] una noče entraron en las kazas de los ǧudyós i kristyanos i (h) izyeron muy grandísima yagmá” ‘One night the Janissaries entered the houses of the Jews and Christians and did a great deal of looting’ (cf. Romeu, Moisés Almosnino: Crónica de los Reyes Otomanos [Note 26 above], p. 170). For the related synthetic verb ya(x)-/ yaγmaladear, see section 8.2.2 above. 224 E.g., “I los kadís leskyeres i pašás i defterdares ke entravan a hazerle ‘arze, komo entravan ansí salían, sin ningún (h)ečo” ‘And the chief military judges [cf. T. kadilasker (< A. qāḍī +’al-‘askar) and pashas [cf. T. paşa] and finance ministers [cf. T. d-/tefterdar (< A. daftar + P. -dār) who entered to present official papers, just as they had entered they left, without accomplishing anything’ (cf. Romeu, Moisés Almosnino: Crónica de los Reyes Otomanos [Note 26 above], p. 139). 225 E.g., Kwando boltará Mordexay, sume’[rsed] le ará raet ‘When Mordechai returns, your honor will show him consideration’ (Šĕlomo ben Binyamin HaLewi [b. Izmir c. 1620, d. 1697], Sefer lev Šĕlomo, Salonika 1808 [reprinted Brooklyn, N.Y. 1991], ’Even hacezer, no. 26, from 1684). 226 E.g., “Ke zefke izimos […] en la ziara” ‘How we enjoyed ourselves during the pilgrimage [to Erets Yisra’el]’ (Alfandari, Yad ’Aharon [Note 214 above], no. 10, from Izmir 1684). 227 E.g., “Tutún no beverás si la avdalá no dirás” ‘You shall not smoke until you have said the “separation from the Sabbath” benediction’ (’Asa [tr.], Letras de ribí Akivá [Note 82 above], sec. 2, f. 11b). Cf. also bever tabako ‘smoke [literally, drink] tobacco’ (Xulí, Mecam locez [...] bĕrešit [Note 53 above], f. 37a). 157 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo water-pipe’ < T. tütün iç-; (f)azer insaf228 ‘to act with justice or equity, be fair (literally, do justice)’ < T. insaf (< A. ’inṣāf) et-; tomar xaber229 ‘to learn [literally, take] the news’ < T. haber (< A. xabar) al-; salir saip por230 ‘to stand as [literally, go out] protector or patron (to someone)’ < T. sahibe (< A. ṣāḥib) çık-; kedar(se) (a) musafir231 ‘stay as a guest in someone’s home; enjoy overnight hospitality’ (cf. O.T. müsafir, M.T. misafir [< A. musāfir ‘traveller’] kal‑); poner (later Judezmo meter) baz/-s232 ‘bet, place a wager’ < T. bahse (< A. baḥs) gir-/tutuş-, bahset-. Other calques translated the Turkish verbal idioms entirely by means of non-Turkish lexemes: e.g., kwanto (cf. S. cuanto ‘how much’) used in the sense of Turkish kadar (< A. qadar) ‘(an approximate) amount’, e.g., “Estuve mirando kwanto unas dos oras i no paresyó mas” ‘I kept looking for about two hours and he didn’t appear again’;233 tokar a el kavod de ‘to insult (literally, touch) someone’s honor’ < T. namusuna (< A. nāmūs) dokun-;234 bolar (literally, ‘fly’) ‘to disappear, be lost; die’ < T. uç- (literally ‘fly’, figuratively, ‘disappear’);235 venirle de la mano ‘to be within one’s capabilities (literally, come from the hand)’ < T. elden gel-;236 kitar en medyo ‘to bring to light, 228 E.g., “Vyendo ke ya lo sirvyó trenta kwarenta anyos aze insaf kon darle lisensya ke se vaya ande kere” ‘Seeing that he has already served him for thirty or forty years he is fair with him by allowing him to go wherever he wants’ (Xulí, Mecam locez [...] šĕmot [Note 99 above], f. 78b). 229 E.g., “Ya tomí xaber i me dišeron ke un pašá está xazino” ‘I received news and they told me a pasha was ill’ (Magriso, Mecam locez ḥeleq šeni misefer šĕmot [Note 157 above], f. 96a). 230 E.g., “No avía ken pudyera avlar mal por él [...] syendo el rey salía saip por el” ‘No one could speak ill of him [...] because the king stood as his patron’ (Magriso, Mecam locez [...] bĕmidbar [Note 141 above], ff. 33a-33b). 231 E.g., “Se kedó musafir en la kaza de el goy” ‘He stayed as a guest in the house of a Gentile’ (Magriso, Mecam locez […] bĕmidbar [Note 141 above], ff. 148b). 232 E.g., “Dos presonas [...] puzyeron baz uno kon otro i dišeron todo el ke anda i aze araviar a Ilel tome kwatrosyentos aspros” ‘Two people [...] made a bet with one another and said “Whoever goes and makes Hillel angry will receive 400 akçes’ (Ben ’Avraham ‘of Štip’, Tiqqune hanefeš, vol. 1 [Note 180 above], f. 110a). 233 Śalṭon, Bĕne Moše [Note 65 above], no. 23, from Constantinople 1682. 234 E.g., “Tokan a·el kavod de la ley ‘They insult the Torah’ (Magriso, Mecam locez ḥeleq šeni misefer šĕmot [Note 157 above], f. 108b). 235 E.g., “Kwando bola un ombre grande del dor […]” ‘When a great man of the generation dies [...]’ (Magriso, Mecam locez […] wayiqra [Note 58 above], f. 5b). 236 E.g., “Iva azyendo kwantas averod le venía de su mano” ‘He kept committing as many transgressions as he was able to’ (Magriso, Mecam locez […] bĕmidbar [Note 141 above], ff. 33a-33b). 158 David M. Bunis discover; expose’ < T. ortaya çıkar-;237 no tener kara de ‘not to dare to’ (cf. T. yüz olma-).238 Ottoman Turkish was also the catalyst for a change in the way Hebrew-origin verbal complements were used in Judezmo analytic verbs. In Early Middle Judezmo, Hebrew present participles used in analytic verbal constructions with the Spanish- origin auxiliary verb ser ‘to be’ agreed with the subject in number and gender, as in Spanish (and Hebrew): e.g., Eyos son zoxim (H. m.pl. zoxim ‫‘ )זוכים‬They (m.) are worthy’, Eyas fweron niftaroθ ‘They (f.) passed away’ (H. f.pl. nifṭarot ‫)נפטרות‬. But in Late Middle Judezmo, under the influence of the use of the invariant, etymologically masculine singular form of the Arabic-origin present participle in Turkish ‘light’ verbs with auxiliary ol- ‘to become’—e.g., lâyık239 [< A. m.sg. lāyiq] oldu/oldular ‘he was / they were worthy’, in which the the complement is formally singular, although the auxiliary verb may be singular or plural, and the referent of the verb may be masculine or feminine—Hebrew-origin verbal participles with ser also began to be invariantly masculine singular: e.g., Eyos son zoxé (H. m.sg. zoxe ‫‘ )זוכה‬They (m.) are worthy’, Eyas fweron niftar ‘They (f.) passed away’ (H. m.sg. nifṭar 240.)‫ נפטר‬Thus the Hebrew participles began to parallel the use of the Arabic-origin participles borrowed into 237 E.g., “Pwede ser ke eyos sepan kitarte esta manera en medyo” ‘Maybe they can expose you in this way’ (anon., Mešalim de Šelomó amélex, Constantinople 1766, f. 12a). 238 E.g., “No tenían kara de dezirle a Mošé” ‘They did not dare tell Moše’ (Magriso, Mecam locez ḥeleq šeni misefer šĕmot [Note 157 above], f. 56b). 239 Judezmo layík is documented in a manuscript dictionary from Izmir, c. 1910. 240 Other etymologically masculine-singular Arabic-origin participles employed in Turkish ‘light’ verb constructions with auxiliary ol- (‘be, become’) which have been borrowed into Judezmo include: mecbur (< A. maǧbūr) ‘to be obliged, compelled’ (cf. 20th-century Izmir J. meǧbur [ms. dictionary]); mevcud (< A. mawǧūd) ‘to exist, be present’ (cf. early 20th- century Sofia J. mevǧud [Ḥ. B. ’Arye, Kestyón ǧudía: estudyos, K. Tsutsev, Sofia 1900, p. 16]); musallat (< A. musallaṭ) ‘to worry, pester’ (cf. 20th-century Edirne J. azerse musallat ‘to work furiously, unrelentingly’ (Abraham Danon, “Essai sur les vocables turcs dans le judéo-espagnol”, Keleti Szemle 4 (1903), pp. 215-229, 5 (1904), pp. 111-126 [p. 119]). For a more detailed analysis of Judezmo analytic verbs with Hebrew-origin complements, see David M. Bunis, “Judezmo Analytic Verbs with a Hebrew-Origin Participle: Evidence of Ottoman Influence”, in Bunis, Languages and Literatures of Sephardic and Oriental Jewry [Note 38 above]. 159 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo Judezmo from Turkish: e.g., El es / Eyos son muxtač ‘He needs / They need’ (< T. muhtaç < A. muḥtāǧ).241 8.2.4 Adjectives Fusion adjectives derived from bases used in Turkish and other languages of the empire and derivational suffixes of Hispanic origin begin to receive documentation in the mid-seventeenth century. Most of these are past participles of derived verbs with Turkish bases, with adjectival function: e.g., bitireado242 ‘finished, completed’ (< bitirear < T. bitir-), bineado243 ‘mounted (on an animal)’ (< binear < T. bin-), boyadeado244 ‘painted’ (< boyadear < T. boya-). Other derived adjectives exhibit various productive Hispanic-origin adjectivizing suffixes: e.g., -Vvle (S. ‑Vble) in kurutavle245 ‘dry, rainless’ < kuru ‘dry’ (and cf. causative kurut- ‘cause to dry’); -ozo (S. ‑oso) in pizmozo246 ‘stubborn’ < G. peîsma ‘obstinacy’. 9. Loan translations and syntactic influence Syntactically and in terms of idiomatic expression, the relatively few extant texts from the Early Middle Judezmo period make use of constructions of Hispanic origin, and also interweave calques of Hebrew origin exemplifying the ladino or literal calque register characteristic of the language of sacred-text translation. But by the Late 241 E.g., “Se topan talmidé xaxamim ke no son muxtač i ya tyenen sus revenidos” ‘There are rabbinical scholars who are not needy and have ready sources of income’ (El ǧugetón 5:26 [Constantinople 1913], p. 3). 242 E.g., Šabbĕtay, Torat ḥayyim, vol. 1 [Note 17 above], no. 82, from Chios, cited in Note 17 above. 243 E.g., “Estando bineado, ke lo saludara” ‘While mounted [on his camel], let him greet him’ (Xulí, Mecam locez [...] bĕrešit [Note 53 above], f. 118a). 244 E.g., “dos ilos de lana boyadeados ‘two woolen threads, dyed’ (Magriso, Mecam locez ḥeleq šeni misefer šĕmot [Note 157 above], f. 16b). 245 E.g., “Esto era en anyos kurutavles, peró en anyo ke avía beraxá kitava en lugar ke se sembrava” ‘This was in dry years, but in a year in which there was blessed rain [the soil] yielded wherever it had been sowed’ (Magriso, Mecam locez […]bĕmidbar [Note 141 above], f. 64a). 246 E.g., “Son ravyozos i pizmozos” ‘They are angry and stubborn’ (Xulí, Mecam locez [...] šĕmot [Note 99 above], f. 28a). 160 David M. Bunis Middle Judezmo period, numerous calques of Turkisms idioms had found their way into the texts. Some of the calques of Turkish verbal expressions were cited in section 8.2.3 above. There are also loan translations of other Turkish constructions. Although they are phrased entirely in elements of Hispanic origin, their lack of parallels in Hispanic sources and their clear resemblance to Turkish idioms make their Ottoman sources obvious. Such calques include: de ke? ‘why?’ < T. neden (vs. S. ¿porqué?);247 consecutive number expressions such as syete očo (días) ‘seven or eight (literally, seven eight) (days)’, cf. T. yedi-sekiz gün (vs. S. siete u ocho);248 sovre mi kavesa ‘I swear’ (literally, ‘upon my head’) < T. baş(ım) üstüne (vs. S. por mi vida, etc.);249 poko munčo ‘more or less (literally, little much), approximately’ < T. az çok (vs. S. más o menos);250 sin ley ‘atheist’ < T. dinsiz (< A. dīn).251 Furthermore, Turkish aşağı yukarı ‘approximately’ (literally, down up) would seem to be the model for the synonymous, morphemically Hebrew expression mala mata (‫מעלה מטה‬, i.e., ‘up down’), used in Ottoman Sephardic rabbinical Hebrew as well as Judezmo.252 Turkish influence is probably responsible, as well, for the generic use of a singular noun rather than a plural if accompanied by a qualifier denoting plurality, e.g., munča ora ‘many hours (literally, many hour)’ (cf. T. çok saat).253 The idiom aramızda teklif yok is reflected as de ti a mi no ay teklif254 ‘There is no need for formal 247 E.g., “De ke se·rió […]? De ke fizo burla?” ‘Why did he laugh [...]? Why did he make fun?’ (Šabbĕtay, Torat ḥayyim, vol. 1 [Note 17 above], no. 82); “De ke estáš asentados?” ‘Why are you sitting?’ (Magriso, Mecam locez ḥeleq šeni misefer šĕmot [Note 157 above], f. 112b). 248 E.g., “Syete očo días estuvo en Kará Musal” ‘He was in Kara Musal seven or eight days’ (Śalṭon, Bĕne Moše [Note 65 above], no. 26, from Iznimit 1635). 249 E.g., “Sovre mi kavesa, non saldré un punto de ake[l]ya ṣavaá” ‘I swear I shall never change that will’ (Ṣahalon, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Mahari”ṭ Ṣahalon haḥadašot [Note 34 above], no. 33). 250 E.g., “Poko munčo ya te traygo lo ke me enbía el Še[m] yiθ[barax]” ‘More or less I bring you what the [Holy] Name Blessed be He sent me’ (Magriso, Mecam locez […] wayiqra [Note 58 above], f. 77a). 251 E.g., “ižo de un sin ley” ‘son of an atheist’ (Toledo, Koplas de Yosef Asadik alav ašalom [Note 170 above], 1755, f. 15b). 252 E.g., “estando lešos de él unos 170 pikos mala mata [...]” ‘being at a distance from him of approximately 170 lengths [...]’ (Xulí, Mecam locez [...] bĕrešit [Note 53 above], f. 179b). 253 “Estuvo penando para salir de la agwa munča ora” ‘He was struggling to get out of the water many hours’ (Argwete, Mecam locez [...] dĕvarim [Note 164 above], f. 25a). 254 E.g., “De ti a mi no ay teklif” ‘Between you and me there is no formality’ (anon., Sippur hanes, Salonika ab 1755, f. 11b). 161 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo behavior between us’ (literally, between you and me there is no formality). Calques of Turkish also include entire phrases, such as, El Dyo es grande! < Allah büyüktür! (literally, ‘God is great!’) ‘God is sure to punish one someday for an injustice! Let us rely on God!’255 Turkisms may be used figuratively, as suggested in the statement: “Dizen [...] por azer vengansa en las ǧentes [...] Son pan xarán” ‘They say, in order to take revenge on people, [...] They are forbidden bread’.256 At least according to the available documentation, throughout the Middle Judezmo period, Judezmo does not yet seem to have undergone any major syntactic influence from Turkish other than the calque constructions of the type referred to in this and the preceding sections. Qualified nouns which have become lexicalized exhibit Turkish word order, e.g., belkyesé257 ‘purse kept around one’s waist’ (T. bel kese), yan torbá258 ‘field bag’ (T. yan torbası). In non-lexicalized noun phrases with an adjective the Turkish word order, adjective + noun, is rarely encountered; e.g., “Es tevekel ombre” ‘He is an indifferent man’;259 “en gran misirlia letra” ‘in large Egyptian letters’.260 Rather, it is the Hispanic order, noun + adjective, which prevails, even if both noun and adjective are of Ottoman origin: e.g., fes angidí261 ‘red fez’ (cf. T. angıdı fes); un dolamá menevíš262 ‘blue jacket’ (cf. T. m-/beneviş[li] dolama < P. meneviš, dolaman); letra [...] ‘arabí ‘Arabic letters’ (cf. T. arabi/-pça harfleri).263 255 Mešalim de Šelomó amélex (Note 237 above), f. 5b. 256 Sippur hanes [Note 254 above], f. 5b. 257 E.g., "‫‘ "ידעתי שהמעות שהיו לו היו צרורים לו בבילכיסי שלו‬I knew that his coins were tied up in the purse around his waist’ (Mitrani, Šĕ’elot utšuvot […] Yosef ben Moše Mitrani, vol. two [Note 84 above], ’Even hacezer, no. 24, from Istanbul 1620). 258 Ḥaviv Amato in De Medina, Šĕ’elot utšuvot Maharašdam, Ḥošen mišpaṭ. [Note 22 above], no. 5. 259 Xulí, Mecam locez [...] bĕrešit [Note 53 above], f. 169b; cf. T. tevekkül, colloquial tevekel < A. tawakkul. 260 Toledo, Koplas de Yosef Asadik alav ašalom [Note 170 above], 1755, f. 13b. 261 E.g., “Vide a la mučača kon un fes angidí en la kavesa” ‘I saw the girl with a red fez on her head’ (Yiṣḥaq Sebeb, Hakohen Pĕraḥya, Paraḥ maṭṭe ’Aharon, vol. 3 [Note 27 above], no. 18, from Salonika 1685). 262 “Yevava [...] un dolamá meneviš” ‘He was wearing [...] a blue jacket’ (Yosef Musači, in Hakohen Pĕraḥya, Paraḥ maṭṭe ’Aharon, vol. 3 [Note 27 above], no. 38, from Salonika 1689). 263 Toledo, Koplas de Yosef Asadik alav ašalom [Note 170 above], 1755, f. 13b. 162 David M. Bunis 10. Closing remarks The intensive interaction between the Judezmo speakers of the Ottoman Empire and their Turkish-speaking neighbors led to a gradually deepening knowledge of Turkish on the part of the Jews of the empire as a community, although there was undoubtedly individual variation between persons and probably even social sectors. Linguistically, the Turkish-Jewish encounter was reflected in an increasingly significant Turkish component in Ottoman Judezmo, paralleling in some ways the Turkish component in other languages of the Balkans. During the transition between what I have elsewhere called the Early and Late Middle Judezmo periods, the Turkish elements in the language grew in number and structural sophistication, as well as in the semantic domains to which they referred. Many of the developments we have noted in the language’s Turkish component suggest that, at least with respect to that component, the Late Middle Judezmo period may already have begun in the second half of the seventeenth century, rather than the early eighteenth century, as I had suggested in earlier work. In either case, the Ottoman elements in Judezmo came to constitute an important, well-integrated component in the pre-modern language. Some constituents of the component survive in Judezmo to this day. But as is true among speakers of other languages of the Balkans today, contemporary Judezmo speakers feel increasing pressure to replace the veteran Turkisms in their language with analogues of other origins—in the case of Judezmo, generally from Romance languages—thus ‘de- Ottomanizing’ Judezmo, and cutting its former bonds with other languages of the Balkans. 163 From Early Middle to Late Middle Judezmo 164 Ivana Vučina Simović In Search of the Historical Linguistic Landscape of the Balkans: the Case of Judeo-Spanish in Belgrade Ivana Vučina Simović University of Kragujevac 1. Introduction Judeo-Spanish represents the language of the Sephardim,1 who, after the expulsion from Spain (1492) and Portugal (1497), scattered throughout the Mediterranean and settled in greatest number in the urban areas of the Ottoman Empire (Constantinople, Salonika, various cities in Asia Minor, Belgrade, Sarajevo, Monastir, Skopje, Sofia, and so on), or the “Orient”. Besides the denomination Judeo-Spanish,2 it is also known as Djudezmo, Judezmo, Espanyol, Shpanyol, Djudio, Djidio, Ladino3 in the Orient, and Haketiya in North Africa. * This article is part of the project “Dynamics of the structures of the contemporary Serbian language” (178014), financed by the Serbian Ministry of Education and Science (2011-2014). 1 The ethnonym Sephardi(c), derives from the Hebrew word Sĕfarad, Biblical toponym (Obadiah 1:20), which in the late Middle Ages became the Hebrew name of the Iberian Peninsula. According to Díaz-Mas, it designates the descendents of Spanish Jews exiled from the Iberian Peninsula in the fifteenth century or those who assimilated to them. Paloma Díaz-Mas, Los sefardíes. Historia, lengua y cultura, 3rd edition, Riopiedras Ediciones, Barcelona 1997, pp. 23-25. 2 Judeo-Spanish (Germ. Judenspanisch or Jüdisch-spanisch) is an academic term introduced by the first philologists interested in this language (Moritz Grünwald, Max Grünbaum, Josef Subak, Max L. Wagner, Kalmi Baruch, and others). Soon enough, this denomination became common not only among scholars, but also among Sephardic intellectuals in general. 3 The written variety of the language of the Sephardim is called Ladino (< latinum) or Judeo-Spanish calque (Haïm Vidal Sephiha, 1979) and designates the specific language of texts translated from Hebrew and of Sephardic religious literature in general. 165 In Search of the Historical Linguistic Landscape of the Balkans The language the exiles brought with them to the Ottoman Empire had a medieval Castilian/Spanish base that during and after the expulsion experienced a number of influences and interference from other Romance varieties from the Iberian Peninsula (Portuguese, Andalusian, Leonese, Aragonese, Catalan, etc.).4 After passing through deep leveling, this language continued to develop independently from the Peninsular Spanish, in specific historic and social circumstances, due to which it succeeded to be maintained in the Orient for more than four centuries. All that time Judeo-Spanish was subject to the influences of languages of other ethnic groups with which the Sephardim were in contact, but it was not replaced by any of them before the twentieth century. The present paper deals with the extra-linguistic history of Judeo-Spanish in Belgrade from the sixteenth to the twentieth century. It also seeks to place its history in a broader framework of the language history of Belgrade and of the Balkans in general, a task which in itself is not easy since the latter usually consists of only sporadic accounts of the linguistic practices of different ethnic and religious groups that lived in Belgrade/the Balkans in the past (Tsintsars, Greeks, Turks, Armenians, Serbs, Sephardic Jews, etc.).5 Our corpus is based on available historical documents, mainly articles from the Jewish press and other publications, such as memorials of Jewish associations, written by Sephardic intellectuals at the end of nineteenth and in the first half of the twentieth century, and various documents archived in the Archive of Serbia and Jewish Historical Museum in Belgrade. In the past, studies of Balkan linguistics and Romance/Hispanic linguistics in concentrated in general on intra-linguistic characteristics of particular language(s) of the Balkans; thus far they have failed to provide an extra-linguistic or social context in which those languages were used in the Balkans. As a result, we are still lacking a holistic and systematic reconstruction and analysis of the linguistic history of this zone as well as of the long-lasting multilingualism from the past and its consequences.6 In 4 Ralph Penny, Gramática histórica del español, trans. by J. I. Pérez Pascual and M. E. Pérez Pascual, Editorial Ariel, Barcelona 1993, pp. 22-23. 5 I am grateful to Dr Biljana Sikimić, Dr Michael Studemund-Halévy and Dr Ana Štulić Etchevers for their comments on various issues of Balkan linguistics and Judeo-Spanish and for providing me materials on these subjects. 6 Jouko Lindstedt, “Linguistic Balkanization: Contact-induced change by mutual reinforcement”, in D. Gilbers, J. Nerbonne and J. Schaeken (eds.), Languages in Contact. Studies in Slavic and General Linguistics, vol. 28, Rodopi, Amsterdam – Atlanta 2000, p. 231. 166 Ivana Vučina Simović the above-mentioned studies, synchronic, as well as diachronic, the language of the Sephardim was either almost completely neglected or was not analyzed systematically in its Balkan social context. Therefore, the main goal of this paper, based on written testimonies on the Sephardic community in Belgrade, is to give some guidelines for sociolinguistic analysis of Judeo-Spanish as a participant in the language history of Belgrade/Balkans. At the same time, we also argue that there is a great need for placing the linguistic history of Judeo-Spanish, as well as the history of other languages of the Balkans, in a much broader perspective. 2. Theoretical and methodological framework 2.1. The language history Language history, as an area of research, studies the extra-linguistic, social development of languages in the course of their history. It is interested in the social context in which languages emerge, are used, or cease to be used. As such it is contrasts with the other diachronic linguistic discipline, known by its traditional academic term as historical grammar, which is concerned with internal linguistic development or functioning of the language on its different levels (phonology, morphology, syntax, vocabulary, etc.) through time.7 Both aspects of diachronic language study noted are involved in more up-to- date studies of diachronic or historical linguistics and, in particular of historical sociolinguistics, concerned not only with the analysis of internal language changes, but also with their social context so as to give a more complete account of the development of languages through their history.8 The tendency cited for diachronic (socio)linguistic studies is in accordance with the concept of the ecology of language,9 7 Penny, Gramática (Note 4), p. 1. 8 David Crystal, Dictionary of Linguistics and Phonetics, Wiley, Hoboken, NJ 2009, pp. 142, 229. Ivana Vučina Simović and Jelena Filipović, Ethnic identity and language shift in the Sephardic community of Belgrade 9 “An ecolinguistic approach highlights the value of linguistic diversity in the world, the importance of individual and community linguistic rights, and the role of language attitudes, language awareness, language variety, and language change in fostering a culture of communicative peace”. Crystal, Dictionary (Note 8), p. 162. 167 In Search of the Historical Linguistic Landscape of the Balkans introduced by E. Haugen10 for indicating “the study of interactions between any given language and its environment”. Yet, data on individual and societal language use was usually missing in mainstream linguistic studies in the past.11 The studies of language history of particular areas could benefit from the use of the term “linguistic landscape”. It is a metaphor used, according to Gorter, with many different interpretations. The most interesting one for us is the linguistic landscape as “an overview of the languages that are spoken” in a certain zone: In this more or less loose sense of the word linguistic landscape can be synonymous with or at least related to concepts such as linguistic market, linguistic mosaic, ecology of languages, diversity of languages or the linguistic situation. In those cases linguistic landscape refers to the social context in which more than one language is present. It implies the use in speech or writing of more than one language and thus of multilingualism. Sometimes the meaning of linguistic landscape is extended to include a description of the history of languages ....12 2.2. Multilingualism and bilingualism in the past Multilingualism (plurilingualism) refers to “a speech community which makes use of two or more languages, and then ... to the individual speakers who have this ability”13 in their repertoire. It can be an internal characteristic of a speech community, when various languages are used for communication within the community, or external if “an additional language [is] being used to facilitate communication with other nations”.14 Bilingualism, similarly to the multilingualism, refers to a “community or individual in command of ... two languages”.15 The notion of bilingualism is sometimes included in the concept of multilingualism, but normally they contrast. 10 Einar Haugen, “The Ecology of Language”, in Alwin Fill and Peter Mühlhäusler (eds.), Ecolinguistics Reader: A Selection of Articles on Language, Ecology and Environment, Continuum International Publishing, London 2001 [1972], p. 57. 11 Ibid. 12 Durk Gorter, “Introduction: The Study of the Linguistic Landscape as a New Approach to Multilingualism”, in Durk Gorter (ed.), Linguistic Landscape. A New Approach to Multilingualism, Multilingual Matters, Clevedon, Buffalo, Toronto 2006, p. 1. 13 Crystal, Dictionary (Note 8), p. 318. 14 Ibid. 15 Idem. 168 Ivana Vučina Simović Braunmüller and Ferraresi16 remind us that multilingualism (either individual, societal, or functional) represents “the default case” in European language history, a fact that has been overlooked until recently, owing to the political climate in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and the reigning ideology of “one state-one nation- one language”. The same authors insist that the study of multilingualism in history does not have only documentary value: “It allows us to gain considerable insight into some linguistic phenomena which have still not been completely understood, as it is the case with language change”.17 Multilingualism was frequent in European history because the knowledge of different languages was “a necessary precondition for mastering the various tasks in everyday life”.18 Nevertheless, the linguistic competence required in multilingual communication in the past was not high. It was expected to be just enough to assure a successful interethnic communication, mainly in the domain of labor. 19 One of the linguistic consequences of prolonged multilingualism is the creation of linguistic areas (Germ. Sprachbund). According to the definition presented by Thomason, a linguistic area represents “a geographical region containing a group of three or more languages that share some structural features as a result of contact rather than as a result of accident or inheritance from a common ancestor”.20 In this paper we deal with some questions related to the first and the most studied linguistic area so far in modern linguistics, the Balkan Sprachbund, and to the place of Judeo-Spanish in it as a “language of the Balkans” and as a “Balkan language”.21 16 Kurt Braunmüller and Gisela Ferraresi, “Introduction”, in Kurt Braunmüller and Gisela Ferraresi (eds.), Aspects of Multilingualism in European Language History, John Benjamins, Philadelphia 2003, p. 1. 17 Ibid., pp. 1-2. 18 Idem, p. 3. 19 Idem. 20 Sarah Grey Thomason, “Linguistic areas and language history”, in D. Gilbers et al. (eds.), Languages in Contact. Studies in Slavic and General Linguistics, 28, Rodopi, Amsterdam, Atlanta 2000, p. 311; idem, Language Contact. An Introduction, Georgetown University Press, Washington D.C. 2001, p. 99. 21 In present-day Balkan linguistics the dichotomy between the terms “language of the Balkans” and “Balkan language” has become widely accepted. The first term refers to the languages that occur within the geographic boundaries of the Balkans, while the other is reserved for those considered to be the members of the Balkan Sprachbund. 169 In Search of the Historical Linguistic Landscape of the Balkans The recent theoretical and methodological advances in Balkan linguistics refer to the origins of the Balkan linguistic area. Namely, as Mišeska Tomić explains, the common features some Balkan languages share are not due to the existence of “a single substrate” in the past, but should rather be considered a result of “a shared drift”,22 “a typological phenomenon which developed through convergence of dialects in a multilingual environment”.23 On the basis of a series of “convergent tendencies“ in the morphosyntax of the members of the Balkan Sprachbund, Balkanologists claim that “the epicenter“ of Balkanization is to be found south of the lakes Ohrid and Prespa, in the area where Macedonian, Greek, Aromanian, Albanian and Romani are spoken. Lindstedt mentions two more languages of the same area, Turkish and Judeo-Spanish.24 2.3. Processes arising in language contact situations relevant for this paper Language Shift (LS) is “the change from the habitual use of one language to that of another”.25 The dynamics of LS normally vary from one case to another and may include only some language domains and some of the speakers instead of all.26 The main precondition for language shift is the existence of a contact situation between 22 Lindstedt, “Linguistic Balkanization“ (Note 6), pp. 231-246. 23 Olga Mišeska Tomić, “An integrated areal-typological approach. Local convergence of morphosyntactic features in the Balkan Sprachbund”, in Pieter Muysken (ed.), From Linguistic Areas to Areal Linguistics, John Benjamins, Amsterdam 2008, pp. 186, 190-191. Mišeska Tomić emphasizes that in Balkan Sprachbund analysis the methodology of “making parallel lists of convergent phenomena, and perpetuating a picture of uniformity” (while completely neglecting the time of data collection), which used to be one of the main methodological procedures in the past, should be replaced by “an integrated areal- typological approach”. The same author argues that this approach should also take into account “sociolinguistic factors and dialect variation”. Mišeska Tomić, “An integrated areal-typological approach”, p. 190. 24 Mišeska Tomić, “An integrated areal-typological approach” (Note 23), p. 217; Lindstedt, “Linguistic Balkanization“ (Note 6), pp. 234. 25 Uriel Weinreich, Languages in Contact, The Hague 1953, p. 68, cit. from Susan Gal, “Language shift”, in Hans Goebl et al. (eds.), Contact Linguistics. An International Handbook of Contemporary Research, vol. 1, Walter de Gruyter, Berlin 1996, p. 586. 26 Crystal, Dictionary (Note 8), p. 269; idem, Language Death, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge 2000, p.17; Michael Clyne, Dynamics of Language Contact: English and Immigrant Languages, Cambridge University Press, West Nyack 2000, p. 20. 170 Ivana Vučina Simović at least two languages, whereby the use of one of them is endangered for being the language of a social group that does not have power nor equal access to the important societal resources (normally defined in sociolinguistics as the “minority/ethnic” group and the opposing “majority” group). It is also necessary for there to exist a certain degree of bilingualism within the group whose language is experiencing the shift.27 Although the process of language shift existed in all historical periods and in all parts of the world, its study did not begin before 1950s and 1960s.28 Language Maintenance, a term closely related to the one of language shift and used as its antonym, represents, conversely, a situation in which a speech community does not pass over to the use of majority language/variety, but continues—normally without planning29—to use its own language, although there are sufficient conditions for its shift. This phenomenon is characteristic not only of the languages that are completely “sane”, but also of those that are experimenting with different phases of language shift.30 Among the social and political factors that influence the process of language maintenance/shift,31 the origin of the contact situation is of great importance,32 as it 27 Christina Bratt Paulston, Linguistic Minorities in Multilingual Settings. Implications for language Policies, John Benjamins, Amsterdam, Philadelphia 1994, p. 13; Willem Fase et al., “Maintenance and Loss of Minority Languages. Introductory Remarks”, in Willem Fase et al. (eds.), Maintenance and Loss of Minority Languages, John Benjamins (Studies in Bilingualism), Amsterdam, Philadelphia 1992, p. 3.; Kenneth Hyltenstam and Christopher Stroud, “Language maintenance”, in Hans Goebl et al. (eds.), Contact Linguistics. An International Handbook of Contemporary Research, vol. 1, Walter de Gruyter, Berlin 1996, p. 568. 28 Gal, “Language shift”, p. 586 (Note 25) 29 The organized efforts, of individuals as well as groups, towards language maintenance belong to the field of linguistic regeneration. 30 Hyltenstam and Stroud, “Language maintenance”, p. 567 (Note 27); Jelena Filipović, The Social Power of Words: Essays on Critical Sociolinguistics [in Serbian], Zadužbina Andrejević, Belgrade 2009, p. 98. 31 Edwards suggests a typology of factors based on three types of questions concerning ethnic minority groups. These can be used for an analysis of contexts in which those processes occur. John Edwards, “Sociopolitical Aspects of Language Maintenance and Loss: Towards a Typology of Minority Language Situations”, in Willem Fase et al. (eds.), Maintenance and Loss of Minority Languages, John Benjamins (Studies in Bilingualism), Amsterdam, Philadelphia 1992, pp. 37-38. 32 Paulston, Linguistic Minorities, p. 10 (Note 27). 171 In Search of the Historical Linguistic Landscape of the Balkans provokes different outcomes. Namely, the practice has shown that in the conditions of the migration of an individual or a family, which is willing to move and is usually induced by economic interests, the shift of the ethnic language is fast and is usually completed in three generations of speakers (rarely in less than three).33 In the cases of annexation, colonization, or secession, language shift lasts much longer, sometimes for several hundred years,34 because in such cases a whole ethnic group becomes a part of new country, with all its “social institutions of marriage and kinship, religious and other belief and value systems still in situ, still more or less intact”.35 Language loss/attrition represents a case when an individual or a group “lose certain language skills”, which, finally, disables the use of that language.36 Similar to the previous phenomenon, language death is produced when an ethnic language is in the terminal phases of loss and, finally, ceases to be used in a particular speech community.37 Both processes can occur abruptly or gradually, for which different metalinguistic expressions can be used. 33 Idem, p. 11. 34 Paulston, Linguistic Minorities, pp. 10-12 (Note 27); Willem Fase et al., “Maintenance”, p. 7 (Note 27); Francisco Gimeno Menéndez and María Victoria Gimeno Menéndez, El desplazamiento lingüístico del español por el inglés, Cátedra (Lingüística), Madrid 2003, p. 27. 35 Paulston, Linguistic Minorities, pp. 10-11 (Note 27). 36 Michael Clyne, “Towards a Systematization of Language Contact Dynamics”, in J. A. Fishman et al. (eds.), The Fergusonian Impact. In Honor of Charles A. Ferguson on the Occasion of His 65th Birthday, vol. 2, Sociolinguistics and the Sociology of Language, Mouton de Gruyter, Berlin, New York, Amsterdam 1986, pp. 488-489; Kees de Bot, “Language loss”, in Hans Goebl et al. (eds.), Contact Linguistics. An International Handbook of Contemporary Research, vol. 1, Walter de Gruyter, Berlin 1996, p. 579. 37 Wolfgang Dressler and Ruth Wodak-Leodolter, “Introduction”, in Wolfgang Dressler and Ruth Wodak-Leodolter (eds.), Language Death, International Journal of the Sociology of Language 12 (1977): 5-6; Clyne, “Towards a systematization”, pp. 487-488 (Note 37); Chaim Rabin, “Language Revival and Language Death”, in J. A. Fishman et al. (eds.) The Fergusonian Impact. In Honor of Charles A. Ferguson on the Occasion of His 65th Birthday, vol. 2, Sociolinguistics and the Sociology of Language, Mouton de Gruyter, Berlin, New York, Amsterdam 1986, p. 551. 172 Ivana Vučina Simović 3. Judeo-Spanish as a “language of the Balkans” or a “Balkan language” Even though Judeo-Spanish was spoken within the Balkan geographic boundaries from the sixteenth century, the Balkanologists have not paid it more than minior and sporadic attention. It has been mentioned only from time to time as one of the languages of the Balkans, while in the studies of areal linguistics pursuing common Balkan linguistic features, Judeo-Spanish has been often completely neglected.38 In other words, not many authors have recognized Judeo-Spanish as a “Balkan language”, and, if they have, they never equalized its “membership” in the Balkan Sprachbund with that of the other Balkan languages. At best, it has been referred to as “a peripheral Balkan language”,39 in opposition to the “core” or “classical Balkan languages”: The ‘Balkan Sprachbund’ features spread in those languages which have been spoken since the early middle ages—the Slavic languages Macedonian, Bulgarian and Serbo-Croatian, the Eastern Romance languages Romanian, Aromanian and Megleno-Romanian, Albanian, Modern Greek, the Balkan Romani dialect, and to some extent in Judeo-Spanish and Turkish. 40 The languages and language groups of the Sprachbund are Albanian, Greek, Balkan Romance, Balkan Slavic, and Balkan Romani. (...) In addition to these five language groups, Ladino (Judezmo) and various forms of Balkan Turkic (such as Rumelian Turkish and Gagauz) have adopted some areal features; I will have to take them into account at a later stage of exploration.41 While the sporadic findings of Balkanologists on the “Balkanness” of the languages of the area mostly regard their morphosyntactic features, the interest of Romanist 38 Marc A. Gabinskij, “Die sephardische Sprache aus balkanologischer Sicht”, Zeitschrift für Romanische Philologie 112, 3 (1996), p. 438. 39 Olga Mišeska Tomić, “The Balkan Sprachbund properties. Introduction”, in Olga Mišeska/Mieseska Tomić and Aida Martinović-Zic (eds.), Balkan Syntax and Semantics, John Benjamins, Philadelphia 2004, p. 6.; Andreas Amman and Johan van der Auwera, “Complementizer-headed main clauses for volitional moods in the languages of South- Eastern Europe. A Balkanism?”, in Olga Mišeska Tomić/Mieseska Tomic and Aida Martinović-Zic (eds.), Balkan Syntax and Semantics, John Benjamins, Philadelphia 2004, p. 307. 40 Mišeska Tomić, “An integrated areal-typological approach”, p. 184 (Note 23). 41 Lindstedt, “Linguistic Balkanization”, p. 231 (Note 6). 173 In Search of the Historical Linguistic Landscape of the Balkans and Hispanic scholars42 has been generally limited, when Balkan areal features in Judeo-Spanish are concerned, to lexical borrowing, especially to the loanwords from Turkish. Studies of Turkish loanwords that Judeo-Spanish shares with non-Turkish Balkan languages, as well as the loanwords from the latter, are usually sparse.43 Few researchers have emphasized the Balkan character of Judeo-Spanish and/or analyzed some its features in the Balkan Sprachbund context. Some of them have stressed the Balkanness of Judeo-Spanish by using different names for it: Peter M. Hill and Michael Studemund-Halévy,44 engaged in the abundant Ottoman Turkish vocabulary in Judeo-Spanish, address this variety as “Balkan Spanish”, while Marc A. Gabinskij employs the denomination “Balkansephardisch”..45 Hetzer46 argues that Judeo-Spanish is not typologically a Balkan language, because it does not possess most of the features that are considered to be the main ones in the process of “linguistic Balkanization” of core Balkan languages. Still, it shows some of Balkan linguistic convergences on the morphosyntactic, phraseological and lexical level.47, 48 42 The first studies on the language of the Sephardim were mostly carried out among the Romanist and Hispanic linguists from different European universities. Aldina Quintana, Geografía Lingüística del Judeoespañol: Estudio sincrónico y diacrónico, Peter Lang (Sephardica 3), Bern 2006, p. 3. The interest of Romanists in Judeo-Spanish gradually decreased from the 1940s (ibid), while it progressively gained more attention among Hispanists all over the world. 43 Gabinskij, “Die sephardische Sprache”, p. 438 (Note 39). 44 Peter M. Hill and Michael Studemund-Halévy, “A Dictionary of the Ottoman Turkish Elements in the Languages of South-Eastern Europe: Its significance for the Study of Balkan Spanish”, Estudios sefardíes 1 (1978), pp. 342-345. 45 Gabinskij, “Die sephardische Sprache”, pp. 438-457 (Note 39). 46 Armin Hetzer, Sephardisch: Judeo-español, Djudezmo. Einführung in die Umgangssprache der südosteuropäischen Juden, Otto Harrassowitz Verlag, Wiesbaden 2001; idem, “Outlines of the current state of Sephardic”, in N. Sobolev, A. and A. Ju. Rusakov (eds.), Языки и диалекты малых этнических групп на Балканах: Тезисы докладов на Международной научной конференции, Nauka, Sankt-Peterburg 2005, pp. 236-250. 47 Marc A. Gabinskij, Sefardskij (evrejsko-ispanskij) jazyk. Balkanskoe narečie, Chişinău 1992; Gabinskij, “Die sephardische Sprache”, pp. 438-457 (Note 39); Marc A. Gabinskij, “Positiver Effekt einiger negativer Angaben (zur Frage der Balkanismen als angeblich gemeinsephardischer Neuerungen)”, Judenspanisch 2 (Neue Romania 19), (1997), pp. 243-255. 48 Hetzer, Sephardisch, pp. 91-93 (Note 47); idem, “Outlines”, p. 242 (Note 47). 174 Ivana Vučina Simović The results of the studies conducted so far lead to the conclusion that the changes in the language of the Sephardim, induced by language contact with other Balkan languages, are either unilateral49 or are less present than the convergences between other languages of the Balkans.50 However, as the knowledge of “linguistic Balkanization”51 is still partial and limited in its scope, the findings that Judeo- Spanish is only marginally a Balkan Sprachbund member, if a member at all, have to be confirmed on firmer ground in the future. Gabinskij argues that Balkan linguistic features are scarce in this variety, but the study of “general allo-Balkan linguistic specificities of Sephardic language” that is only emerging, should be continued in the future for the benefit of general linguistics.52 4. Judeo-Spanish in The language history of Belgrade Our starting point in this paper is that with the help of adequate historical documents it is possible to reconstruct at least some facts about linguistic practices and multilingualism/bilingualism among various ethnic groups in the Balkans in the past. This important topic has been often neglected in historical (socio)linguistic studies in general. Of course, the same lack is observed in the studies of Judeo-Spanish that, until recently, also focused on its internal features.53 We argue that the extra-linguistic characteristics of Judeo-Spanish not only give testimony to the existence of this language in the Balkan social context but are also an indispensable factor in every solid linguistic analysis. 49 This is the formulation that Busse has recently used. Winfried Busse, “Contacts linguistiques”, in Winfried Busse and Michael Studemund-Halévy (eds.), Lexicología y lexicografía judeoespañolas, Peter Lang (Sephardica 5), Bern 2011, p. 30. 50 Gabinskij, “Die sephardische Sprache”, pp. 438-439 (Note 39). 51 Lindstedt, “Linguistic Balkanization”, p. 234 (Note 6). 52 Gabinskij, “Die sephardische Sprache”, pp. 438-440 (Note 39). 53 The recent tendency is observed in Hetzer, “Outlines”, pp. 236-242 (Note 46), where due attention is paid to both external and internal linguistic features of Judeo-Spanish through its history. 175 In Search of the Historical Linguistic Landscape of the Balkans 4.1. Judeo-Spanish in Belgrade in the Oriental period 4.1.1. The Sephardim in multiethnic Belgrade During the Turkish period (1521-1867), the life of the population in Belgrade, regardless of its ethnic and religious background, was very patriarchal, traditional, and religious.54 At the time, Belgrade was a multiethnic and multilingual city, in which groups of different ethnic and religious origin—Turks, Serbs, Sephardic Jews, Roma, Greeks, Tsintsars and Armenians—coexisted. They settled in the city’s four quarters (Turk. mahalle/ma’ale) divided by their religion: in two of them lived only a Muslim population, in one lived Muslims and Jews, and one was mostly Christian.55 The area in Belgrade where the Sephardim lived was called Jalija (Turk. jaly “sea shore or river bank and/or empty space, lea”56) or Jewish Ma’ale. From the 1530s until the 1870s, almost all Jewish inhabitants lived in this zone located on the bank of the Danube, regardless of their economic and social status.57 As in the Orient in general, the Sephardim were gathered in Belgrade within the Jewish Community. Headed by a committee, which was elected every Jewish New year by respected men, the Community could make various decisions on its own related to daily and religious life of its members. The same body represented its members before the authorities and distributed and collected tributes.58 From the time of their settlement in the Balkans, the Sephardim were mostly involved in trade. Until the 1870s, the majority of them were poor, as the Sephardim 54 Ivana Vučina Simović, “Judeo-Spanish and language attitudes among the Sephardim: Toward a typology of language maintenance/ language shift” [in Serbian], Ph.D. dissertation, University of Belgrade, Belgrade 2010, pp. 103-109. 55 Nataša Mišković, Bazaars and Boulevards. The World of Everyday Life in 19th-Century Belgrade [in Serbian], Muzej grada Beograda, Belgrade 2010, p. 163. 56 Jennie Lebel, Until “The Final Solution”: The Jews in Belgrade 1521-1942 [in Serbian], Čigoja, Belgrade 2001, p. 435. 57 Tihomir R. Đorđević, “The Jews in Serbia during the first reign of prince Miloš (1815- 1839)”, [in Serbian], Godišnjica Nikole Čupića. Izdaje njegova Zadužbina, vol. 35, Izdanje Čupićeve zadužbine, Štamparija Mirotočivi, Belgrade 1923, pp. 203-204; Lebel, Until “The Final Solution”, p. 17 (Note 57). 58 Esther Benbassa and Aron Rodrigue, Historia de los judíos sefardíes: De Toledo a Salónica, traducción José Luis Sánchez-Silva, Abada, Madrid 2004, pp.105-109; David A. Alkalaj, “Sephardic Community in Belgrade during the 1860s” [in Serbian], Jevrejski narodni kalendar (1937-1938), year 3, Belgrade, pp. 101-112; Tihomir R. Đorđević, “The Jews”, p. 205 (Note 58). 176 Ivana Vučina Simović were typically “shopkeepers, pedants, craftsmen, apprentices, greengrocers, junkmen and only some were moneychangers and carriers”.59 There were also Sephardim working as clerks in the Ottoman administration until the year 1824, when Christians took their positions.60 4.1.2. Judeo-Spanish and other ethnic languages in the Ottoman Belgrade As in the Ottoman Empire as a whole, each ethnic group in Belgrade spoke its own language. Turkish was the official language, but it did not represent a lingua franca among different groups. During the Ottoman rule, the situation was rather one of stable multilingualism “with stable prestige relations among the languages”.61 Lindstedt claims that multilingualism in the Balkans, similar to the situation found in other parts of the world (e.g., India), was characterized by “radical structural convergence” and mutual “intertranslatability” between various languages, related or not among themselves. The mentioned features actually represent multilingual strategies arising from the frequent need of the coexistent ethnic groups to communicate.62 A comment made by Gustav Weigand at the end of nineteenth century about multilingual Monastir/Bitola reveals what such phenomenon was like: Es ist klar, daß in einer Stadt mit so verschiedenen Nationalitäten auch eine große Vielsprachigkeit herrscht; das Türkische und Bulgarische [= Macedonian] ist [sic] fast gleich verbreitet, die Aromunen, wenigstens die Männer, können außer ihrer Muttersprache bulgarisch und griechisch, die meisten auch türkisch und albanesisch; viele verstehen selbst das Spanische [= Ladino/Judezmo], das, wie sie wohl fühlen, viele Wörter mit ihrer Sprache gleich oder ähnlich hat. Daß in Gesellschaften zugleich mehrere Sprachen gesprochen werden, ist ganz gewöhnlich. [It is obvious that extensive multilingualism prevails in a city with so many different nationalities; Turkish and Bulgarian [= Macedonian] are almost equal in expansion; Aromanians, at least the men, speak not only their mother tongue, 59 Aron Alkalaj, “The Purim in the Jewish Ma’ale”, Jevrejski almanah 1954, Belgrade [1954], p. 146. 60 Tihomir R. Đorđević, “The Jews”, p. 205 (Note 58); Vidosava Stojančević, “Ethnic composition of the population 1815-1830”, in Vasa Čubrilović (ed.), History of Belgrade. Nineteenth century, vol. 2 [in Serbian], Prosveta, Belgrade 1974, p. 521. 61 Lindstedt, “Linguistic Balkanization”, pp. 238-239 (Note 6). 62 Idem, pp. 239-240. 177 In Search of the Historical Linguistic Landscape of the Balkans but also Bulgarian and Albanian; there are many of them who actually understand Spanish [= Ladino/Judezmo], the language which, as they certainly feel, has the same or similar words as their language. This is quite common in the societies in which several languages are spoken at the same time.]63 There were two crucial social and political factors for the long-lasting maintenance of ethnic languages and continuance of multilingualism in the Orient in general, among the Sephardim in Belgrade in particular. The first is due to the political and administrative system of the Ottoman Empire, millet, which divided the population into religious communities64 and allowed non-Muslim vassals a specific kind of cultural, religious, and judicial autonomy within their own communities and the right to maintain their own identity in exchange for fulfilling the obligation of paying all kinds of tributes.65 The other factor that contributed to the continuation of the same linguistic practices for centuries is associated with the fact that Sephardim, as did the other groups, moved within their own “cultural zone” (Germ. Kulturbereich).66 Namely, they maintained extensive social, cultural, and trade networks67 with other Sephardic communities in the Orient, while they kept less close relations with their neighbors of different ethnic and religious background. In general, external multilingualism was highly valued among the Balkan population during the Turkish rule, while internal multilingualism or shift to other languages (the 63 Gustav Weigand, Die Aromunen: Ethnographisch-philologisch-historische Untersuchungen über das Volk der sogenannten Makedo-Romanen oder Zinzaren, vol. I, Johann Ambrosius Barth (Arthur Meiner), Leipzig 1894-95, p. 6, cit. from Lindstedt, “Linguistic Balkanization”, p. 239 (Note 6). [Translation by I. V. S.] 64 Lindstedt, “Linguistic Balkanization”, pp. 238 (Note 6). 65 Harriet Pass Freidenreich, The Jews of Yugoslavia. A Quest for Community, The Jewish Publication Society of America, Philadelphia 1979, p. 14; Esther Benbassa and Aron Rodrigue, Historia de los judíos sefardíes: De Toledo a Salónica, traducción José Luis Sánchez-Silva, Abada, Madrid 2004, pp.100-103. 66 Benbassa and Rodrigue, Historia, pp. 14-15 (Note 66). 67 Besides the Jews, the same kind of network was also common among Greeks, Armenians, Ragusan (Dubrovnik) subjects, and others. Radovan Samardžić, “Belgrade in International Trade in the 16th and 17th Centuries” [in Serbian], in Vasa Čubrilović (ed.), History of Belgrade. Antiquity, Middle Ages and New Age [in Serbian], vol. 1, Prosveta, Belgrade 1974, p. 365. 178 Ivana Vučina Simović official Turkish or the languages of the neighbors) was not. As the ethnic language was considered to be the integral part of group’s identity, staying with it meant, at the same time, keeping a social and ethnic barrier toward “the others”.68 For this reason, Judeo-Spanish represented the only language of communication in the Sephardic family and society in Belgrade. This language was, according to Kalmi Baruch, the “product” of the long-lasting Sephardic “social and cultural life” maintained in the Orient.69 The knowledge of languages other than Judeo-Spanish did not make any changes in language choice within the Sephardic family or community: En djeneral muestros korelidjionarios de Oryente ambezan la lengua del pais por sus menesteres komersiales, por sus relasiones de kada punto kon sus konsivdadenos. Ma nunka pensan de konverzar en kaza otra avla mas ke el djudio espanyol ke se izo, en alguna suerte, komo lengua materna i nasionala. [In general, our compatriots in the Orient learn the language of the country owing to their commercial needs, owing to close relationships they keep with their fellow countrymen. But, they never think of conversing at home in a language other than Judeo-Spanish, which became, somehow, like mother tongue and national language.]70 In one of his lectures, Kalmi Baruch attributed the maintenance of Sephardic language and traditions in the Balkans for four centuries to the “persistence” and “conservative character” of life in Jewish quarters in the past: Through the spiritual walls of our Sephardic ghetto, few things could come out, or come in. For the same reason, our language, especially the one from the books, Ladino, was maintained on the same level of development as we brought it from Spain.71 68 Lindstedt, “Linguistic Balkanization”, pp. 239-240 (Note 6). 69 Kalmi Baruch, “La lingwa de los sefardim”, El mundo sefardí 1, 1 (1923), Vienna, pp. 20- 25, transcription from Max L. Wagner, Caracteres generales del judeo-español de Oriente, Revista de filología española, Anejo XII (1930), pp. 111-112. 70 Samuel B. Elias, “Puede lašon hakodeš ser una lengua avlada?”, El amigo del puevlo 9 (June 1889), year I, Belgrade, p. 1 [trancription and translation by I. V. S.]. 71 Kalmi Baruch, “Sephardic language and literary creations” [in Serbian], Jevrejski glas 15- 16 (105-106) (11 April 1930), year 3, Sarajevo, p. 7 [translation I. V. S.]. 179 In Search of the Historical Linguistic Landscape of the Balkans In such surroundings, Sephardic women played the main role in keeping the ethnic language and customs in Sephardic families and society. This fact can be easily explained by the social position of women in the traditional Sephardic society. The patriarchal way of life negated from women the possibility of gaining any direct social power and the right of free movement out of their homes and the Jewish quarter. They were also denied, in Belgrade until 1864, the possibility of receiving any formal education. All the restrictions noted directed women towards the ethnic culture and monolingualism. In this way, willy–nilly, they transmitted the language and traditional culture to their numerous offspring, and thus assured their continuance for centuries.72 Hebrew was used together with Judeo-Spanish, and it had a special status among the Sephardim for being the traditional language of the Jewish faith, philosophy, literature, and education. It was the language dominated by Jewish men, and only by the more educated ones (most often rabbis), while women were not obliged to know it nor to be literate in it. For the educated Sephardim, Hebrew “was what Latin was to the wise men and writers in Europe in the past centuries” (“para nuestros sabios i literatos fué el ebreo akeo ke fué el latín para los sabios de evropa en los siglos pasados”).73 In the traditional Jewish communal schools for boys, often called Talmud Torah, Hebrew and the basics of the religious literature were the only subjects, taught in the students’ maternal language, Judeo-Spanish. Although the latter was the language of instruction, it was not studied in any way. Namely, at a time when religious rituals and customs were of crucial importance, for individuals as well as for the whole community, the prestige of Hebrew was much higher, not only among the rabbis, but also among the laymen. In the Oriental period, interethnic cultural and social relations and multilingualism in the Balkans were limited to particular domains of life, especially the domain of labor, and, to some extent, the domain of public administration and jurisdiction. In other domains, the groups held themselves socially and, usually, also linguistically apart. In such conditions, the multilingualism was only external and restricted mainly 72 Jelena Filipović and Ivana Vučina Simović, “La lengua como recurso social: el caso de las mujeres sefardíes de los Balcanes”, in Paloma Díaz-Mas; María Sánchez Pérez (eds.), Los sefardíes ante los retos del mundo contemporáneo. Identidad y mentalidades, Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, Madrid, pp. 261-262, 267. 73 Baruch, “La lingwa”, p. 109 (Note 70). 180 Ivana Vučina Simović to the public sphere and to the male population, as only the men had access to this sphere at the time.74 The most important meeting point for men of different ethnic origin in Belgrade was the bazaar (Turk. çarşi), the social and economic center of every Oriental city. Its streets and shops were “the place of exchange, communication and production”, similar to Middle European market squares. The people came to the çarşi not only for business, but also to commune and hear the latest news.75 Other public spaces in Belgrade in which trade and communications took place, were the numerous inns (Turk. hans) situated near the çarşi.76 The owners of the hans were Turks, Tsintsars, Serbs, Jews, Ragusans, or Bosnians, but the guests were merchants of diverse origin. The regular guests of these premises were carriers or shippers (Turk. kiridji). They were skilled money and goods transporters, but also carriers of news and mail, who traveled for their business all around the Ottoman Empire. The locals used to come to the hans to meet these travelers and to do business with them.77 Besides Judeo-Spanish and Hebrew, the use and knowledge of local languages (Turkish, Serbian, Greek, Aromanian, Armenian, etc.) among the Sephardim was considerable but, as we have already stressed, only among Sephardic men and in certain domains. The functional distribution of Judeo-Spanish with other languages spoken in Belgrade has not been studied enough as yet. In the domain of labor, the Sephardic men used Judeo-Spanish for communication among themselves, for bookkeeping and for business correspondence. For the necessity of doing business with non-Sephardic individuals, they learned other languages spoken in the Balkans, especially Turkish, as it was the official language of the Empire. According to Kalmi Baruch the influence of Turkish was great in Judeo- Spanish, but the same was true for other languages of the Balkans: [E]l treser elemento komponiente del lenguaže de los sefardes, kual eĉó profundamente sus raizes en nuestra idioma, es el turko. la unidad polítika, ke duró asta la mitad del siglo pasado kon el turko komo lengua del estado de una parte, de 74 Lindstedt, “Linguistic Balkanization”, pp. 239-240 (Note 6). 75 Mišković, Bazaars, p. 164. (Note 56). 76 Hazim Šabanović, “Commercial buildings” [in Serbian], in Vasa Čubrilović (ed.), History of Belgrade. The Antiquity, Middle Ages and New Age [in Serbian], vol. 1, Prosveta, Belgrade 1974, p. 377. 181 In Search of the Historical Linguistic Landscape of the Balkans otra nuestra kultura material ainda asta atrás pokos desenios idéntika kon la de los turkos, fué reformando el lenguaže, dando entrada a ekspresiones korrientes en el país. lo mezmo se ___ i en otras lenguas del balkán, el serbo i el búlgaro. no kere ser diĉo ke los sentros sefarditas, onde el turko es la lengua de la kai____e, tienen su lenguaže más de elementos turkos. (The third element that forms the language of the Sephardim, and which took root in our language, is the Turkish. The political unity that lasted till the middle of the past century, with the Turkish as the state language, on the one hand, and our material culture that was still several decades ago identical to that of the Turks, on the other, were changing the language, by allowing entrance to expressions common in the country. The same thing was perceptible in other languages in the Balkans, in Serbian and Bulgarian. This does not mean that the Sephardic centers where Turkish is the language of the street have more Turkish elements in their language”.)78 In the domain of labor, in which trade was the most common profession, the Balkan Sephardim had to learn not only Turkish, but also Italian. The loanwords from Italian give evidence of such influence on Judeo-Spanish: “All merchant cities in the Balkans had a vivid trade exchange with Italy, especially with Venice. Almost all Sephardic centers are familiar with some of Italian words (dunke, ačitar, impiegado, perikolo)”.79 Knowledge of Greek was also widespread among the Sephardic men, because during the Oriental era it was one of the main languages of trade.80 With the strengthening of Serbian political and cultural autonomy in the nineteenth century, the Sephardim in Belgrade progressively learned Serbian. Although the Sephardim knew other languages, testimonies can be found showing that members of other groups also learned to speak and write in Judeo-Spanish in order to work with the Sephardim, as was mentioned by Weigand regarding Monastir.81 There are also other testimonies of this phenomenon in Sarajevo and Belgrade. In the 77 Mišković, Bazaars, pp. 164-165 (Note 56). 78 Baruch, “La lingwa”, p. 110 (Note 70) [translation by I. V. S.]. 79 Kalmi Baruch, “The language of the Sephardim” [in Serbian], Spomenica “La Benevolencije”, Belgrade 1924, p. 74 [translation by I. V. S.]. 80 Max L. Wagner, “Espigueo judeo-español”, Revista de Filología Española, 34 (1950), p. 13. 81 Weigand, Die Aromunen, p. 6 (Note 64). 182 Ivana Vučina Simović article “The Position of Bosnian Jews during Turkish Rule”,82 Samuel Pinto provided data on correspondence in Judeo-Spanish in solitreo between Jewish and Muslim merchants in Sarajevo. David Alkalaj testified that Serbs in Belgrade who worked for Sephardic craftsmen as auxiliaries and apprentices learned the language of their employers. From the same source, we learn that Sephardic merchants and craftsmen communicated with Turks and Tsintsars in Belgrade in Turkish, but mostly in Judeo- Spanish.83 4.2. Judeo-Spanish in Belgrade in modern times Modernity and the creation of nation states in the Balkans during the nineteenth and at the beginning of centuries brought changes not only in the political and social situation in the area, but also put an end to the long-lasting multilingualism and the preconditions for linguistic convergence of Balkan languages. In the new conditions, the spreading of common Balkan linguistic features was reduced to a modest degree. Namely, contact-induced language changes started to be unilateral, as they affected mostly the languages of the minorities living within the new nation states.84 The modernization of the national Serbian state (1818-1867) was relatively fast, owing to the fact that its elite imposed as an imperative the need to become modern and Westernized as quickly as possible. Soon enough, the entire population of Belgrade experienced deep ideological, social, political, and linguistic changes. The Sephardic community, as well as the other minority groups in Belgrade, was obliged to adapt progressively to the modern way of life and work and also to the emerging Serbian cultural and linguistic milieu.85 At first, only the younger and more well-to-do Sephardim felt the desire to integrate socially and economically into the majority Serbian society. Later on this phenomenon became widespread among the Sephardim in Belgrade. At the same time, a strong 82 Samuel Pinto, “The Position of Bosnian Jews during Turkish rule” [in Serbian], Jevrejski almanah 1954, Belgrade [1954], p. 57. 83 David Alkalaj, “From the past of our community. The first cultural pursuits of our youth: Societal school for the education of Serbian-Jewish youth. A contribution to the history of Belgrade Jews” [in Serbian], Vesnik Jevrejske sefardske veroispovedne opštine 11 (1 November 1939), year 1, Belgrade, p. 5. 84 Lindstedt, “Linguistic Balkanization”, pp. 238-240. (Note 6). 85 Vučina Simović, “Judeo-Spanish”, pp. 120-122 (Note 55). 183 In Search of the Historical Linguistic Landscape of the Balkans belief was spreading among the Sephardic group in Belgrade that the knowledge of colloquial Serbian was no longer good enough for their social and economic mobility. Therefore, the Sephardic youngsters from Jalija decided in 1872 to organize a “Societal school for the education of Serbian-Jewish youth”.86 According to David Alkalaj from Belgrade, this school, in which Serbian language and grammar were taught, was also accessible to uneducated Serbs and to the members of other ethnic groups, such as Greeks and Tsintsars, who wanted to improve their “poor knowledge” of Serbian.87 As a result of integration into majority group and the adoption of various ideologies of modernity,88 Judeo-Spanish, like the languages of other minority groups in Belgrade, began to retreat gradually before Serbian, the official and majority language.89 The following paragraph written by Samuel B. Elias testifies that this phenomenon was already advanced at the end of 1880s: Nuestros hermanos de Serbia (...) se esfuersan de adoptar los usos y costumbres de sus compatreotas Serbos, viven en buenas relaciones con ellos, practican mas mucho la lengua del pais que sus propia idioma. – En los conciertos, en los bales, en sus conversaciones los Judios emplean el Serbo; mesmo en sus casas, muchos de ellos hablan solo la lengua del pais. (Our brothers from Serbia (...) are striving to adopt practices and customs of their Serbian compatriots, they live in good relations with them and they use more of 86 Archive of Serbia, Ministry of Education, No. I r. 71/ 1873, nº 113. 87 Alkalaj, “From the past”, p. 5 (Note 83). 88 Among the set of ideologies of modernity, the ideology of national states and national languages was the one that had the crucial impact on the shift of Judeo-Spanish in Belgrade. Namely, the speakers of this language were strongly convinced that the use of the majority and, what is more important, standardized language, meant acceptance of the modern way of life and a main condition for the social and economic mobility of every individual. Vučina Simović, “Judeo-Spanish”, pp. 270-275 (Note 55). 89 The shift did not begin at the same time in all domains of language use, and it did not have the same dynamics in all of them. In the domains of labor, education, army, and public relations and administration, Judeo-Spanish began to shift to Serbian between the 1840s and 1860s. However,within the family, oral tradition, religion, Sephardic literature and press, the Jewish quarter and Jewish community and charitable and cultural associations the language shift to Serbian began mostly in the last two decades of the nineteenth century and at the very beginning of the twentieth, while it strongly took root between the two wars. Vučina Simović and Filipović, Ethnic Identity, pp. 51-112 (Note 8). 184 Ivana Vučina Simović the language of the country than of their own language. – At concerts, at balls, in their conversations, the Jews use Serbian; the same happens in their homes, many of them speak only the language of the country.)90 The changes brought by the modern way of life affected the entire linguistic repertoire of Belgrade Sephardim, foreign languages included. Among the latter, the knowledge of Balkan languages was gradually decreasing, while the use of modern international languages was growing fast. Sephardim in Belgrade were following the modern trends in foreign language learning and were showing the most interest in German91 and French, and, to a lesser degree, in Italian and English.92 4.3. The loss and death of Judeo-Spanish The Judeo-Spanish speech community of Belgrade, already weakened by the prolonged language shift, was almost completely destroyed during the first years of Nazi occupation. According to Jennie Lebel,93 approximately 94% of the total Jewish population of Belgrade perished in the Holocaust. The physical destruction of the majority of its speakers led to almost complete loss and death of Judeo-Spanish. We know of only a few Sephardic families in Belgrade who after the war maintained their ethnic language as means of communication. They principally came to Belgrade from other parts of the Balkans, where Judeo-Spanish was better preserved than in Belgrade. Since their number was so small, this was not sufficient for language revival in their community.94 90 Samuel B. Elias, “Novitades Israelitas”, Luzero de la Paciencia, 6 (1st /13th February 1888), year 3, Turnu-Severin, pp. 83-84 [translation by I. V. S.]. 91 David Haim, better known by his nickname, Davičo, and his sons, maintained from 1822 till 1830 a business correspondence in German with Serbian prince Miloš. Isak Alkalaj, “Archive materials on Jews in Serbia“ [in Serbian], Jevrejski almanah za godinu 5688 (1927-1928), year 3, Vršac, Savez rabina Kraljevine SHS, 1927, pp. 22-25. 92 Jewish Historical Museum in Belgrade, Survey My Family [in Serbian], 1979-1980, cit. from: Vučina Simović, “Judeo-Spanish”, pp. 120-122 (Note 55). 93 Lebel, Until “The Final Solution”, p. 336 (Note 57). 94 According to the survey My Family, the informants who came to Belgrade after the World War II from other Sephardic communities of Yugoslavia used Judeo-Spanish much more in their parents’ home before the war (65% bilingual in Serbian and Judeo-Spanish, 22% monolingual in Judeo-Spanish, 13% monolingual in Serbian, 4% monolingual in Italian) than the informants who were originally from Belgrade (32% bilingual in Serbian and Judeo-Spanish, 21% monolingual in Judeo-Spanish, 42% monolingual in Serbian, 5% monolingual in German). Nevertheless, they all indicated Serbian or Serbo-Croatian as 185 In Search of the Historical Linguistic Landscape of the Balkans 5. Conclusions The present paper has offered a sociolinguistic approach to the history of Judeo- Spanish and, at the same time, it has questioned the possibilities and needs for placing its study in a broader context of Belgrade and the Balkans in general. The sociolinguistic history of the Balkan Peninsula gives us enough reasons to believe that there were many centers of Balkanization in the urban areas in the past, such as Belgrade, where different ethnic and linguistic groups lived in prolonged and, more or less, close contact. We can assume that preserved historical documents in different Balkan languages could reveal a great deal of data on their coexistence and also on some of their linguistic convergences. In our focus of attention were two basic deficiencies of Balkan and Romance/ Hispanic linguistics when the study of Judeo-Spanish and of other languages of the Balkans in the past are concerned. In the first place, these studies were missing descriptions of the contexts in which these languages were used. This lack was common to language studies in the past in general. Secondly, and as result of the previous deficiency, the disciplines mentioned have failed so far to provide a general and systematic analysis of the effects of the prolonged multilingualism/bilingualism that existed in the Balkan area. A more systematic research on Balkan language history could be beneficial not only from documentary point of view, but also as an important issue for general linguistics, historical linguistics, and sociolinguistics. Unlike previous Balkan linguistic studies, future studies on language history of Balkan cities, should not leave aside the language of the Sephardim, one of active participants in the Balkan historical “linguistic landscape”. Furthermore, the recent theoretical and methodological advances in Balkan linguistics, which relate to the origins of the features some Balkan languages share, speak in favor of the existence of “Balkan Spanish” which was not only a recipient, but also, a more or less active member of the Balkan Sprachbund. We are aware that the suggested endeavors require long and tiresome interdisciplinary and transdisciplinary studies made by groups of experts. The brief account on the language history of the Sephardic community in Belgrade represents our modest contribution to these goals. the only language spoken in their homes at the time of the survey. This provides evidence that the ethnic language loss after the war happened in all informants’ families despite the differences in origin and earlier language use. Jewish Historical Museum in Belgrade, Survey My Family, 1979-1980. 186 Alisa Meyuhas Ginio The Attitude Toward Lěshon haKodesh and Lěshon Lacaz in Two Works of Sephardi Musar Literature: Mecam Locez (1730) and Pele Yoceş (1824; 1870) Alisa Meyuhas Ginio Tel Aviv University The Jerusalem-born (c. 1689) Rabbi Yacakov Khulí wrote two introductions to his work Mecam Locez:1 one in Hebrew [Leshon haKodesh] and the other in Ladino [Leshon Lacaz].2 In both introductions, Rabbi Yacakov Khulí explained his choice of language: why he did decide to address his reading public in Ladino and not in Hebrew— the traditional sacred language, until then commonly used in rabbinical literature.3 The author of Mecam Locez explained that his contemporary Sephardim [People of Sepharad]4 could no longer understand Hebrew; let alone read it. Therefore, since 1 This title derives from Psalms 114:1, “When Israel went out of Egypt/the house of Israel from a people of strange language”. The “strange language” in our case is Ladino. 2 Ladino, a name derived from “Latin”, was used in the Medieval Iberian Peninsula for translations of Hebrew Holy Scriptures. It was written in Hebrew letters and being a calque language often used Hebrew syntax patterns. In Israel today Ladino is generally used as the name of the Judeo-Spanish language, for instance in the case of the National Authority for Ladino – Autoridad Nasionala del Ladino – established by law of the Israeli Knesset in 1996. In the twentieth century, the Sephardim took to using Latin and Cyrillic letters when writing Ladino. 3 The development of Ladino Musar literature is discussed in Mattias B. Lehmann, Ladino Rabbinic Literature and Ottoman Sephardic Culture, Indiana University Press, Bloomington and Indianapolis 2005, ch. 1, pp. 15-30. 4 Obadiah 1:20, “the captivity of Jerusalem which is in Sepharad...”. Since the Middle Ages, Sepharad has been the Hebrew name for the Iberian Peninsula. The Sephardim are the descendants of the Jews exiled from the Iberian Peninsula who kept to their Judeo-Spanish language. 187 The Attitude Toward Lěshon haKodesh and Lěshon Lacaz Rabbi Yacakov Khulí wished to convey the message of Judaism and Jewish ethics: the Holy Scriptures, Talmudic tradition, and rabbinical learning to his contemporary Sephardim of “Turkiya i Anadol i Arabistan”,5 he had no other choice but to address them in their everyday common language—Ladino. Rabbi Yacakov Khulí's work, the Mecam Locez, a commentary on the Book of Genesis, was first published in Kushta (Kushtandina—Istanbul in Hebrew and Ladino) in 1730.6 Rabbi Yacakov Khulí left his hometown, Jerusalem, first for Safed and then, in the year 1714, he finally settled down in Kushta. He wished to edit and publish the Hebrew rabbinical treaties written by his grandfather, Rabbi Moshe ben Ḥaviv (1654-1696) regarding Jewish agunot (anchored women), and it was in Kushta where Hebrew printing houses could be found.7 Indeed, Rabbi Moshe ben Ḥavivʼs important Hebrew work entitled cEzrat Nashim (Help for Women) was published in Kushta in 1729. It is therefore clear beyond doubt that Rabbi Yacakov Khulí, had he so wished, could have written and published his Mecam Locez in Hebrew, as had been done by Jewish sages for centuries; yet, he chose to compose his work in Ladino and explicitly wrote that his contemporary Sephardim had no knowledge of Hebrew: “No 5 Mecam Locez (hereafter ML), 7. Now and hereafter I quote the Kushta edition, 1823. The Mecam Locez was printed in Hebrew letters known as Rashi script. These letters were used in print for the commentaries of Rashi [Rabbi Shelomo Yitsḥaki (1040-1108)], placed in the margins of the biblical text in the Reggio di Calabria edition of the Bible (1475) so as to differentiate between the biblical text printed in square Hebrew letters and the commentary printed in Rashi script. Until mid-twentieth century, Ladino literature—both religious and secular—was printed in Rashi script; owing to the unprecedented popularity of the books of the Mecam Locez, during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. For reasons of convenience, while quoting Ladino sources in the English text of the present article, I use Latin letters following the usage of orthography established in the review Aki Yerushalayim, published in Jerusalem since 1979. This is a purely phonetic orthography disregarding the rules of the modern Spanish language. For Hebrew words included in the Ladino text, I use italicized Latin letters. Quoting Ladino sources in the footnotes of this present article, I use regular Hebrew square letters. 6 See Lehmannn, Ladino Rabbinic Literature, ch. 2, pp. 31-45. 7 Regarding Hebrew printing houses in Kushta, see Yaron Ben Naeh, “Hebrew Printing Houses in the Ottoman Empire”, in: Gad Nassi (ed.), Jewish Journalism and Printing Houses in the Ottoman Empire and Modern Turkey, Istanbul 2001, pp. 71-96; Naim Güleryüz, “Histoira de la prensa judía turka' in Pablo Martín Asuero and Karen Gershon Şarhon (eds.), Ayer y hoy de la prensa en judeoespañol, Actas del Simposio organizado por el Instituto Cervantes de Estambul, 30 de abril de 2007, Istanbul, Isis 2007, pp. 71-76. 188 Alisa Meyuhas Ginio ay ken sepa meldar un din [law and regulation] di Shulhan Aruh8 porke no entiende leshon a-kodesh [the sacred language–Hebrew] i ansi no save los dinim [laws and regulations] ke tiene ovligo di azerlos”.9 This is why Rabbi Yacakov Khulí made up his mind to set before his intended public, the Sephardim of Anatolia and the Middle East, his compilation of Jewish traditional commentaries on the Bible, the dinim [laws and regulations] of Judaism, and the proper usage of everyday customs and traditions to be kept by decent, law-abiding Jewish men and women in their daily lives—all these in a language comprehensible to them: “Todas las avlas di este livro son trezladadas di Gemara i Midrash ke lo ke ay ayi en leshon a-kodesh lo trezladi aki en franko”.10 ‘Frankoʼ in Ladino denotes a European language as Fransia means Europe. Rabbi Yacakov Khulí lived all his life in the milieu of the Sephardim of the Middle East and Anatolia and knew them well. The Jerusalemite Sephardim of the late seventeenth century and the early eighteenth century were poor and miserable. Rabbi Yacakov Khulí described the lives of his contemporary Sephardim—“los aniyim [poor] di Ereş-Yisrael ke son los proves ke moran en Yerushalyim i Ḥ̣ebron i Ṣefat se kuentan komo kautivos i yevan muncho şaar [misery] kon las umot [nations]”.11 Elsewhere Rabbi Yacakov Khulí compared the miserable lives of those poor to the hardships endured by the captives taken and imprisoned by the Knights of the Order of St. John, Lords of the island of Malta: “komo yo fui nasido i kreado en akeyas partes vidi los males ke sigieron i sierto ke los esklavos ke estan en Malta tienen mas repozo ke eyos”.12 The Jerusalemite Sephardim led wretched lives threatened daily by the greedy local governors of the town. In view of the loss of power suffered by the central authorities of the Ottoman Empire,13 local powers were at ease to act as they wished.14 8 Rabbi Yosef Caro (1488-1575) is the author of the Shulhan Arukh, a comprehensive and authoritative collection of Jewish law. See Lehmann, Ladino Rabbinic Literature, ch. 2, pp. 42-43. 9 ML, 7. 10 ML, 10. Mattias Lehmann claims that “there must have been more that impelled these authors [Jacob Huli [Lehmanʼs orthography] and many other vernacular rabbis to undertake this new educational enterprise”. See Lehmann, Ladino Rabbinic Literature, ch. 2, pp. 35- 45, referring to “The New Educational Ideal”. 11 ML, 179. 12 ML, 180. 13 See D. Zeʼevi, HaMeʼa haOtmanit. Mehoz Yerushalayim baMeʼa haShevca-esre, Jerusalem 1997; M. Rozen, HaKehila haYehudit biYrushalayim baMeʼa ha-17, Tel Aviv 1984. 189 The Attitude Toward Lěshon haKodesh and Lěshon Lacaz Rabbi Yacakov Khulíʼs contemporary Sephardim were not familiar with Turkish, the language of their Ottoman rulers: “I mas se topa algunos ke lo tienen por ofisio di eskrivir papeles falsos en turkesko ke se yaman udjetes [hüccet; legal documents] i se azen a la una kon el turkesko i le amostran kamino ke pueda tomar moneda del djidio...”.15 Khulí was referring to people that took advantage of the common lack of knowledge of the Turkish language among the Sephardim in order to cheat the latter and take away their property and money. The language of the eighteenth-century Sephardim living in the Ottoman Empire was Judeo-español [Judeo-Spanish; Jewish Spanish] or Judezmo. This language stemmed originally from the fifteenth-century Iberian Romance language, especially in its Castilian dialect, as – prior to the 1492 Expulsion – most of the Iberian Jews were residents of the Kingdom of Castile. The Sephardim integrated into their spoken Judeo-Spanish Hebrew and Aramaic words and expressions. Alongside Judeo-Spanish, Ladino was used for translations of Hebrew Holy Scriptures. After the Expulsion from the Iberian Peninsula (1492-1498), the Judeo-Spanish language –today in Israel referred to as Ladino16 – became an independent entity and followed its own course of development.17 Ladino has two principal dialects: (a) the one spoken in the Balkans and Anatolia; (b) the North African Haketiya or Jaketiya. The Balkan- Turkish dialect has two versions: the dialect spoken in Turkey and Rhodes, echoing the Castilian language, and the dialect prevalent in Greece, Macedonia, and Serbia, echoing the Portuguese and North Spanish languages. In general, we may refer to two coinés: Salonica and Istanbul;18 both were influenced by the respective vocabularies of Turkish, Greek, and Slavic languages and were promulgated through commercial routes—either by land or by waterways crossing the Danube River—roads leading to 14 See A. Meyuhas Ginio, “El Purim de los Meyuhasim: entre la historia y el folclore”, El Olivo, 45 (1997), pp. 5-25. 15 ML, 42. 16 See note 2 above. 17 A. Quintana Rodrígues, Geografía Lingüística del Judeoespañol. Estudio sincrónico y diacrónico. Sephardica, Peter Lang, Bern 2006, pp. 298-310. 18 Ibid., p. 298: “Fue principalmente en las comunidades de Salonica y de Estambul donde el español de los sefardíes adquirió nueva personalidad a través del proceso de coineización en el período inicial siglo XVI-XVII”. See also p. 302: “No una coiné sino dos coinés: Salonica y Estambol”. 190 Alisa Meyuhas Ginio Skopje [Skoplje] all the way to Belgrade, Budapest, and as far as Vienna; and to Ruse [Rousse], Plovdiv, Sofia, Pazardzhik, and Vidin.19 Notwithstanding the differences among the above-mentioned dialects, there has been a high level of linguistic fusion and uniformity thanks to the exchange of books and goods, the migration of rabbinical sages, and the financial help often sought and granted among the different communities.20 Since the middle of the nineteenth century, following the reforms (Tanzimat) in the Ottoman Empire, on the one hand, and the political disintegration of that empire, allowing for the establishment of nation-states in the Balkans on the other, the Sephardim tended to abandon their Ladino language and to turn to the modern national languages kindled and disseminated by the modern nation-states established on the former lands of the Ottoman Empire: Serbia, Greece, Bulgaria, and Romania. The influence of the Alliance Israélite Universelle founded in Paris 1860, made French a common language of culture among the Sephardim of the Ottoman Empire. About fifty years after the demise of Rabbi Yacakov Khulí (Kushta, 1732), Rabbi Eliezer ben Yiṣḥ ̣aq Papo (c.1786-1827) was born in Sarajevo, Bosnia. From 1819, the 24-year-old Rabbi Eliezer was acting as rav and av-bet-din (president of the local court of law) of the Jewish community of Silistra in Dubruja, Bulgaria, where he passed away in 1827. In 1824, he published, in Kushta, his work Pele Yoceṣ, a sefer musar (Jewish ethical work)21 – including short, alphabetically arranged essays, referring to all aspects of Jewish life. In his essay regarding Lacaz – a foreign language22 – Rabbi Eliezer Papo explained that he would have wished to write his own work in Ladino, this being the language comprehensible to all the Sephardim, but since this language – lashon sepharadi – is not useful for Ashkenazim and Italiani, he decided to write his work in leshon hakodesh – the sacred language, that is Hebrew – since this was the common language, useful to all the Jewish people. The author further allowed other 19 Ibid., p. 309. 20 Ibid., p. 310. 21 Pele Yoceş first published in Kushta, 1824: /‫] בדפוס‬1824[ ‫נ"נדפס בקושטנדינה תחת ממשלת אדוננו המלך מחמוד שנת ויקרא שמו פלא יועץ תקפ"ד‬ ."...‫השותפים יעקב הלוי ויוסף ענבי‬ Hereafter PY, Kushta. Regarding Musar literature, see Lehmann, Ladino Rabbinic Literature, ch. 2, pp. 44-45 22 Psalms 114:1. See note 1 above. 191 ‫‪The Attitude Toward Lěshon haKodesh and Lěshon Lacaz‬‬ ‫‪scholars to translate his work into their respective lacaz (foreign) languages.23 Indeed,‬‬ ‫‪the Pele Yoceş was translated into Ladino by Rabbi Eliezerʼs son, Rabbi Yehudah‬‬ ‫‪Papo. The first volume of this translation of the Pele Yoceş was published in Vienna‬‬ ‫‪in 1870, and the second volume of the same work was published there in 1872.24 Of‬‬ ‫‪special importance is Rabbi Yehudah Papoʼs statement regarding Ladino: “Se topan‬‬ ‫‪muncha djente ombres i mujeres ke no saven meldar en livros de leshon a-kodesh,‬‬ ‫‪por esto dizi ke es grande meresimiento el ken eskrive i estanpa livros de musar‬‬ ‫‪[Jewish ethics] en Ladino”. The Ladino language of the Pele Yoceş allowed Sephardi‬‬ ‫‪23 PY, Kushta, 1828, p. 25. The Hebrew text reads:‬‬ ‫ ‬ ‫לעז ע' כה‪ .‬הן רבים עתה עם הארץ שאין מבינים בלשון הקדש וכבר רבו ספרי הלועזים לעם לועז ועוד כל‬ ‫עמי הארץ הרוצה לזכות את ישראל ימלא ידו לכתוב ספרי תפלות וקצורי דינים ותוכחות מוסר השכל בלעז‬ ‫וזה יותר טוב מלהוציא ספרי פלפולים או דרושים אחר שהם מנחים בקרן זוית ואין מועילים אלא לאחד מעיר‬ ‫ופעם ביובל‪ ,‬אבל ספרי הלועזים יד רבים אנשים ונשים ממשמשת בהם ויש אנשים ונשים שנפשם חשקה‬ ‫לדרוש אלוקים ולעסק בתלמוד המביא לידי מעשה אלא שקצור קצרה ידם מהבין ומהשכיל לִּבותָם ובכן‬ ‫הכותבים והמדפיסים ספרים הרבה ללועזים חדשים עם ישנים הן הם מזכים את הרבים וזכות הרבים תלוי‬ ‫בהם‪ :‬והן אמת שסגלת לשון הקדש רבה היא‪ ,‬עד שאמרו שמי שיוכל לדבר לעולם אפלו מלי דעלמא בלשון‬ ‫הקדש קונה קדושה והדברים עתיקים‪ .‬ובכל אות ואות יש רזין עלאין ובונה בשמים עליותיו ואף אם לא ידע‬ ‫מאי קאמר קמי שמיא גליא ומעשה ידינו כוננה עלינו‪ ,‬אבל כל קבל דנא יש הפרש במבין מה שאומר לאין‬ ‫מבין כהפרש האור מן החושך ולכן עת לכל חפץ‪ ,‬אחז בזה וגם מזה אל תנח ידך‪ ,‬כי אינך יודע איזה יכשר‪,‬‬ ‫ולכן שניהם כאחד טובים ומי האיש החפץ חיים‪ ,‬ירדף אחר הספרים המועילים לרפואת ולתקון הנפש כאשר‬ ‫ירדוף הקורא בהרים‪ ,‬כי על הכל יביא אלקים במשפט על אשר היה יכול ללמוד ולא למד‪ ,‬ותלמוד גדול‬ ‫שמביא לידי מעשה (מגילה כ‪ ,‬א; קדושין מ‪ ,‬ב) וחפץ הייתי לכתב קונטרסי אשר כוונתי בהם לזכות את הרבים‬ ‫בלשון לעז‪ ,‬רק מפני שלשון ספרדי אינו שוה לאשכנזים ואיטליני ושאר לשונות לכן בחרתי בלשון הקדש‬ ‫שהוא שוה ומועיל לכל הלשונות והנחתי מקום לאחרים אם ירצו לזכות לרבים מעמי הארץ שיעתיקום בלעז‬ ‫לשונותיהם כמו שעשו בספר "שבט מוסר" ויבוא שכרם כפול מן השמים‪1.‬‬ ‫ ‬ ‫‪[The bold letters in the Hebrew text are mine. A.M.G.].‬‬ ‫‪24 The Pele Yoceş was published in Vienna by Jacob Schlossberg. Another edition was‬‬ ‫‪published in Salonica, 1889. Hereafter I shall quote the Vienna edition: PY, Vienna. Rabbi‬‬ ‫‪Yehuda Papo wrote in his introduction that the Pele Yoceş (Vienna, 1870, p. 3):‬‬ ‫ ‬ ‫י"פ'ואי אג'ונטאדו אין לשון הקודש די איל חסידא קדישא ופרישא הרב המובהק כמוהר"ר אליעזר פאפו זיע"א‬ ‫[זכותו יגן עלינו אמן] אי פ'ואי טריזלאד'אד'ו אין לאדינו פור מאנו די סו איז'ו הרב הכולל בישראל להלל‬ ‫כמוהר”ר יאודה אליעזר פאפו זלה"ה [זכרונו לברכה לחיי העולם הבא] שנת קחו מסר ה' והיה לכם לחכמה‬ ‫תחת ממשלת אדונינו המלך סולמאן עבדול חמיד‪ .‬אגורה איי קי אג'וסטר די אזיר אונה קוזה‪ ,‬אי איס קי‬ ‫אין איל פלא יועץ די לשון הקודש אין לה ליטרה די לעז קי סיינדו קי סי טופאן מונג'ה ג'ינטי אומבריס אי‬ ‫מוז'יריס קי נו סאב'ין מילדאר אין ליב'רוס די לשון הקודש‪ ,‬פור איסטו דיזי קי איס גראנדי מיריסימיינטו איל‬ ‫קין איסקריב'י אי איסטאנפה ליב'רוס די מוסר אין לאדינו וזכות הרבים תלוי בו"‪.‬ו‬ ‫ ‬ ‫‪See: Lehmann, Ladino Rabbinic Literature, ch. 3, pp. 52-56. A modern English edition was‬‬ ‫‪produced by Marc D. Angel, The Essential Pele Yoetz, Sepher Hermon Press 1991.‬‬ ‫‪192‬‬ Alisa Meyuhas Ginio women to render themselves acquainted with its content; very much like the Sephardi feminine audience of the Mecam Locez, a hundred and fifty years earlier. Although many Sephardi women could not read or write in any language, they could follow the Ladino text read to them.25 Indeed, women were part and parcel of Rabbi Yehuda Papoʼs intended audience. He wrote that “Las mujeres ke saven meldar ke akuzgen las amigas i parientes i ke le melden kon eyas”.26 Rabbi Yehuda Papo claimed that women should take care that their daughters learn to read, since ignorant women do not keep the precepts as they ought to: “I agora se topan munchas mujeres ke no afirman kuantos maṣot27 komo de dizir beraha [benediction] entodolo ke komen i biven las primeras i las de alkavo...”.28 Both Rabbi Eliezer Papo and his son, Rabbi Yehuda Papo, lived in the western parts of the Ottoman Empire. Silistra is located on the banks of the Danube River, on a strategic crossroads of commerce, migrating peoples, and military campaigns: the main route of commerce going from the Black Sea all the way to Vienna and Central and Northern Europe.29 The Sephardim of Silistra were constantly in touch with Ashkenazi Jewish communities across the borders, with German- and Italian- speaking merchants and often spoke their languages. Of course, Hebrew would always be the common language for all Jews. We witness the geographical expansion and widening scope of the Sephardi world: not only the Mediterranean Basin – Anatolia 25 A. Meyuhas Ginio, “Perception and Images of the Four Biblical Matriarchs in Rabbi Yaʼakov Khulí's Meʼam Loʼez (1730)”, El Prezente. Studies in Sephardic Culture, Gender and Identity, 3, Ben Gurion University of the Negev, Beer Sheva, December 2009, pp. 219- 239. Cf. Lehmann, Ladino Rabbinic Literature, ch. 7, pp. 121-127. 26 PY, Vienna, 1:5. 27 ‫ מצות‬sic; ‫ – מצוות‬commandments or precepts. Cf. Deuteronomy 11:27 in Hebrew; see also Lehman, Ladino Rabbinic Literature, ch. 3, pp. 52-53, referring to Pele Yoceş, vol. 2. Vienna 1870, p. 97. Generally speaking, ‫( כתיב מלא‬full spelling) of Hebrew would be preferable while writing in Ladino; yet it was quite common among Sephardi rabbis to use ‫( כתיב חסר‬defective spelling) of Hebrew in their Ladino writings. In our case, the author of the Ladino PY probably had in mind the biblical verse: “Behold, I set before you this day a blessing and a curse ...”, (Deuteronomy 11:26; the opening verse of the parasha [perasha in Ladino] Reʼeh, preceding verse 11:27 dealing with ‫מצות‬. The author of PY in Ladino thought fit to urge his female readers to carefully keep their religious duties – such as saying their daily prayers properly—lest they suffer divine retribution. 28 PY, Vienna, 2:219. Cf. Lehmann, ch. 3, pp. 68-69. 29 Ḥ̣aim Keschales, Qorot Yehude Bulgaria, Tel Aviv 1969-1972 (in Hebrew). 193 The Attitude Toward Lěshon haKodesh and Lěshon Lacaz and the Middle East, as was the case in the early sixteenth century – but further to the northern parts of the Balkans. Jewish sages addressing their Sephardi target audience had to think not only of the Judeo-Spanish speaking Sephardim of Anatolia and the Middle East but had to take into consideration also the Ashkenazim and Italiani with whom the Sephardim of the northern parts of the Balkans maintained cultural, social, and commercial links and contacts. This is why Rabbi Eliezer Papo, in his time, thought fit to address his intended audience in Hebrew: it was not that the Sephardim of his time and place were more acquainted with Hebrew than were Rabbi Yaʼakov Khulíʼs contemporary Sephardim in Jerusalem or Kushta; rather, it was because the Sephardim of Silistra were mingling with the Ashkenazi and Italian Jews, either merchants or shelter-seeking, immigrating refugees, who were not familiar with the Judeo-Spanish language. Silistra is located on the site of the Roman city of Durostorum built by the emperor Trajan (98-117). The Roman city was destroyed during the Barbarian invasions. It is supposed that Jews were already living there during the first Bulgarian kingdom, prior to the Ottoman conquest. The Ottomans finally conquered the city in the year 1420. There is no historical evidence as to the whereabouts of the Jews there, but it is assumed that after 1494, Sephardim expelled from the Iberian Peninsula made their way from Nicopolis to Silistra. The local Jewish community included Romaniote – Jewish-Greek–speaking Jews; Ashkenazim – Jewish-German– (Yiddish–) speaking Jews; and Sephardi Jews who spoke Judeo-Spanish. In the years 1575-1594, the Jewish community of Silistra was led by Rabbi Moshe Ventura. He authored a rabbinical treatise entitled Yemin Moshe. In the year 1648, Jewish refugees from Hungary made their way to Silistra. The kehila (Jewish community) had its synagogue, a shoḥet [butcher], and a rav; yet the local beit-din [court of law] did not have full legal authority and law suits were often referred to higher rabbinical authorities in Salonica or Kushta. In 1841 there were some 193 Jews in Silistra. During the nineteenth century, the Russians attacked Silistra several times, namely, in 1806, 1807, 1810-1811, 1828, and finally 1877, during the Bulgarian uprising. The local Jews suffered from the hands of both the Russian invaders and the Ottoman Sultanʼs troops. During these wars, many of the local Jews fled sometimes northward to Bucharest and sometime southward into Ottoman territories. Migration was also caused by epidemics: in 1826- 27 during a plague in Ruse, Jews sought refuge in Silistra. In the introduction to his work, Rabbi Eliezer Papo wrote that he wished to offer his contemporary Jewish brethren good advice, founded on reading musar [Jewish ethics] 194 Alisa Meyuhas Ginio books, on what would be the proper for Jews to follow in order to please God.30 Rabbi Eliezer also explained that the title of his work – Pele Yoceş – refers to his name: Papo Eliezer. 31 Comparing this introduction to the one written by Rabbi Yacakov Khulí, almost a hundred years earlier, we realize that the intentions of both authors were very much the same;32 yet the language each one chose to convey his message was different. In both introductions the authors thanked those who offered financial help and thus made the publication of rabbinical treaties possible. In the end of his Hebrew introduction – ‫ – הקדמת הספר‬to his work Mecam Locez, Rabbi Yacakov Khulí expressed his gratitude to Rabbi Yehudah Mizraḥ ̣i for his help to publish the book. He promised the donor and his heirs a share in the future profits of the book, alongside shares that go to charity and the upkeep of talmide ḥaxamim (rabbinic scholars).33 In his Ladino introduction – ‫ – הקדמה‬to Mecam Locez, Rabbi Yacakov Khulí takes a somewhat different approach. He acknowledged oneʼs duty not to be ungrateful: one should be careful to thank all those who had extended their help to him. The author of Mecam Locez explicitly thanked the elevated gevir [rich man] Rabbi Yehudah Mizraḥi for his help that had made the publication of the Mecam Locez possible and blessed him and his descendants.34 Rabbi Eliezer Papo thanked all those generous benevolent men who had helped him publish his work.35 30 See Lehmann, ch. 3, pp. 51-61. 31 The Hebrew text reads: ‫ עצה טובה קאמינא‬,‫ועתה באתי במגילת ספר כתוב עלי ועל זרעי ועל אנשי גילי‬ ‫כפי קט שכלי וכפי אשר השיגה ידי ללמוד וללמד מפי ספרים איזוהי דרך ישרה שיבור לו אדם לעשות הטוב‬ ‫ חן חן לה ואלקטה באמרים אמרת אלוה צרופה בדרך קצרה בספר אלפאביתא לשם‬,‫והישר בעיני אלוהים ואדם‬ ‫יחוד קדשא בריך הוא ושכינתה ולקשט את הכלה ובכן בהורמנותא דקדשא ברוך הוא ושכינתה קראתי שם‬ ‫ יועץ אנכי לעצמי ולאנשי‬,‫הספר הזה "פלא יועץ" כי בתיבת פל"א רמוז שמי הדל באלפי אליעזר פאפו ס"ט‬ ‫י‬...‫גילי אנשי סגולה‬ PY, Kushta, Authorʼs Introduction. 32 Lehmann, Ladino Rabbinic Literature, chs. 2 and 3, pp. 31-63. 33 ML, 4 . 34 Ibid., p. 16. 35 The Hebrew text of Pele Yoceş reads: .‫ הנה שפתי לא אכלא מלהודות לה' המיטיב עם ברואיו על ידי שלוחיו אנשי חסד‬,‫ואני טרם אכלה לדבר‬ ‫אחד המרבה ואחד הממעיט ברכה‬...‫היטיבה ה' לטובים המתנדבים בעם אשר גמלו עמי חסד בגופם וממונם‬ ‫כתב וחתם בעיר סליסטרה בשלהי חודש ניסן‬...‫בעולם הזה והקרן קיימת לעולם הבא וצדקתם עומדת לעד‬ ‫י‬.‫" =תקפ"ד‬1824 ‫שנת אשריכם זורעי על כל מים‬. 195 The Attitude Toward Lěshon haKodesh and Lěshon Lacaz In the essay dedicated to printing —‫ דפוס‬in Hebrew — Rabbi Eliezer Papo emphasized the importance of printing. It is thanks to this invention that the Torah was propagated in the world. He also deplored the necessity of sages having to plead for financial help to print their books and praised those who voluntarily extended their help to the erudite authors.36 Interestingly enough the Ladino translation of the Pele Yoceş composed by Rabbi Yehudah Papo explicitly refers to Europe and to the European Press – gazetas – thanks to which knowledge is propagated in the world: Mas ay provecho grande del defus [print] ke por su mano se muchigua el daat [knowledge] i el komplemento en todo el mundo, kon las gazetas ke se estanpan ke afilu [even] ke ay munchas pajas de yediot [news] ke no son informantos ama ay kozas menestrozas ke el ombre alli asavienta, i todas las hohmot [knowledge, wisdom; sciences], i todas yediot i todas las maestrias vienen de basho de la estanpa i sienpre se topa en uno hokhma [knowledge] i una yedia i una maestria loke no se topa en otros i se topa ke una presona akoje las tehunot [qualities] de todos por fuerza kale ke se aga hakham [wise; knowledgeable], ke se afirma loke disho el pasuk [verse] mekol melmeday iskalti [Psalms 119:99: “I have more understanding than all my teachers”] ke el ombre komo enviza de todos se asavienta i esto es lo ke salyo en la Evropa ke se muchiguaron las tehunot i las yediot i los komplementos ...ke agora ya se espandieron las estanpas en todos los lugares i ay kamino ke de esto mos sultrayera muncho bueno a la uma yisraelit [the Jewish nation] segun se deklara adelante en la letra di miṣvot.37 36 The Hebrew text reads: ‫ והנה‬.‫רבה טובת הדפוס בעולם אשר על ידה יגדיל תורה ויפוצו מעינותיה חוצה‬ ‫מאחר שעל הרב קצור קצרה יד החכמים מלהדפיס ספריהם ומכתתים רגליהם מעיר לעיר ללקט כספ כדי‬ ‫ וראוי לעשירים עם אלקי אברהם לפתח ידיהם אליהם בעין יפה ובזה חלק כחלק יאכלו עם החכם כי‬,‫להדפיס‬ ‫ יב) והכל לפי מה שהוא הספר ולפי מה שהוא נצרך לרבים ולפי התועלת‬,‫בצל החכמה בצל הכסף (קהלת ז‬ ‫הנמשך ממנו לעבודת השם יתברך ודוק ותשכח שכמעט אין כסף שיהא נחשב למצווה רבה כזו שכל הוצאה‬ ‫של מצוה היא לשעתו מתחיל במצוה וגומרה אבל זה הנותן לצרך הדפוס צדקתו עומדת לעד לדור דורים והוא‬ ‫ אשריו מה טוב חלקו קנה שם טוב קנה לו‬.‫מזכה את הרבים זכות הרבים תלוי בו וילך לפניו ולאחריו צדקו‬ ‫י‬:‫דברי תורה קנה לו חיי העולם הבא וגם העולם הזה כסף כסף רבה‬ Cf. Lehmann, Ladino Rabbinic Literature, ch. 2, pp. 39-48. 37 PY, Vienna, 177-179. Cf. Iacob M. Hassán, “La prosa rabínica”, in Elena Romero, Iacob M. Hassán and Ricardo Izquierdo Benito (coord.), Sefardíes: Literatura y lengua de una nación dispersa, 15. Curso de Cultura Hispanojudía y Sefardí de la Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha, Cuenca, Ediciones de la Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha 2008, pp. 269-272. 196 Alisa Meyuhas Ginio The crucial point for our discussion is Rabbi Yehuda Papoʼs mention of Europe and his declaration—in his Ladino text published in Vienna—that it is there, in Europe, where wisdom and knowledge are disseminated thanks to print in general and the printed press in particular. This point is not mentioned or referred to in Rabbi Eliezer Papoʼs Hebrew text of Pele Yoceş published some 46 years earlier in Kushta. Those 46 years of difference (1824-1870) between the publication dates of the two above- mentioned works witnessed the changing orientation of the Sephardi world: instead of focusing on the Mediterranean world, where Kushta and Salonica were the undisputed centers of Sephardi learning and culture – there came the yearning to imitate and be assimilated into European culture and ways of life, such as in Vienna or elsewhere in the northern Balkans. Regarding the importance of the printed press – gazetas – we should bear in mind that the first gazeta in Ladino, La Buena Esperansa, was published in Izmir, in 1842, about 15 years after the first publication of Pele Yoceş in Kushta.38 The explanation given in the Ladino text of Pele Yoceş regarding the merit of helping Jewish sages print their books also deserves notice: Rabbi Yehudah Papo claimed that the donated money does not lie idle but, even after the demise of the donor, his money continues to work. This is a far better investment than giving funds at interest, even at the highest percentage: “Ama el ke aze esto, en estando en el otro mundo esta ganando i es mijor ke meter moneda i interese a mil por siento. Ke el esta durmiendo en el kever [grave] i su grush [coins] solo esta ganando kome del fruto i el kavdal [fund] siempre firme”.39 The Hebrew text of Rabbi Eliezer Papo does not mention the financial act of investing money at interest; he praises those who help the ḥaxamim [sages] print their books, stating that their charity stands forever in this world and the next.40 38 See Moshe David Gaon, HacItonut be-ladino: Bibliografia. 300 citonim, Ben Zvi Institute, Jerusalem 1965; Lehmann, Ladino Rabbinic Literature, ch. 2, pp. 45-48; Elena Rieder- Zelenko, “Noticias de Esmirna: el periódico La Buena Esperanza en 1905”, in Hilary Pomeroy, Christopher J. Pountain and Elena Romero (eds.), Proceedings of the Fourteenth British Conference on Judeo-Spanish Studies, London 2008, pp. 179-190; A. Meyuhas Ginio, “La prensa y la literature en Judeo-Español como agents de modernización”, El Prezente. Studies in Sephardic Culture, 4, Ben Gurion University of the Negev, Beer Sheva 2010, pp. 49-59. 39 PY, Vienna, 177-179. 40 PY, Kushta, Authorʼs Introduction. 197 The Attitude Toward Lěshon haKodesh and Lěshon Lacaz It should be noted, however, that not everything in the daily lives of the Jews in Europe was to be praised. Rabbi Eliezer Papo, in his time, was quite suspicious regarding Jewish life there. Rabbi Eliezer wrote that in the cities of Edom—Christian Europe – Jews are often not careful in keeping the rules of chastity: they visit prostitutes.41 Furthermore, there are places where a future bride and bridegroom meet with one another on the holidays of Ḥanuka and Purim, sit one next to the other, talk and laugh: these are bad manners that exist in Italy and some of the communities of Germany [Ashkenaz] and some of the cities of Turkey...”.42 On the other hand, Rabbi Eliezerʼs son, Rabbi Yehudah, was quite willing to praise the modern ways of life adopted by European Jews. In any event, modernization won the day not only in the Balkan nation-states but also in the Ottoman Empire.43 We should be aware that during the nineteenth century, modernization was almost synonymous with westernization, since post-revolutionary France and Victorian England were considered as paragons of enlightenment, the more so in oriental societies generally accepted as inferior and backward.44 As a result of the prevalent modernization, the lives of the Sephardim were totally changed until the Holocaust of World War II put an abrupt end to most of their communities in the Balkans, and the post-war immigration out of the Balkan states and out of the Turkish Republic weakened the remaining Sephardi communities there. 41 PY Kushta, 58: ‫זנות‬. Cf. Lehmann, Ladino Rabbinic Literature, ch. 7, pp. 124-125; ch. 8, pp. 147-149. 42 PY, Kushta, p. 10: ‫כלה‬. 43 Lehmann, Ladino Rabbinic Literature, ch. 11, pp. 187-201. 44 S. N. Eisenstadt, Multiple Modernities, trans. from Hebrew by Ruth Bar-Ilan, Jerusalem 2010, pp. 13-90. 198 Krinka Vidaković-Petrov Literature 199 Some Balkan Specifics of Sephardic Folksongs 200 Krinka Vidaković-Petrov Some Balkan Specifics of Sephardic Folksongs Krinka Vidaković-Petrov Institute of Literature and Art (Belgrade) The long historical presence of the Jews in Spain is reflected by Sephardic culture. Although the influence of Islamic Arab tradition in Medieval Jewish culture in Spain was evident, the later period of Jewish culture in Spain resulted from the active interaction between the Jewish tradition and Hispanic culture. This is most obviously manifested in the secular language—Judeo-Spanish—and the Sephardic oral tradition. The expulsion of the Jews from Spain and their settlement in the various regions of the Ottoman Empire brought many changes: on the one hand, the severance of ties to Spain (especially in the Eastern Sephardic area), and on the other, a tendency to preserve the Judeo-Spanish heritage in a new and alien cultural environment. The Ottoman system of social organization (millet) allowed for the preservation of the cultural traditions of various ethnic and religious communities. Thus, the period of interaction with the non-Jewish environment in Spain—which forged the Judeo- Spanish cultural identity—was followed by a period of double relative isolation, both from the former (Spanish) and the new (Ottoman) environment. In this situation the dominant tendency was that of preservation of the Judeo-Spanish cultural identity. The expulsion from Spain and subsequent settlement in Ottoman lands did not entail a radical disruption in Sephardic cultural identity, although it was it was not completely immune to cultural influences of the new environment. In the multiethnic cultural framework of the Balkans, the Sephardic tradition was first subject to the same Oriental influences as the traditions of other domestic groups. They were most obvious in material culture—architecture, design of interior living space, dress and food culture—and two aspects of non-material culture: language and music. Both language and music are associated with texts of the oral tradition, but while language and music were more open to external influences, the texts themselves were more resistant to them, especially in the case of romances. So, there are still questions as to 201 Some Balkan Specifics of Sephardic Folksongs how the Oriental influence is manifested in the semantic layers of text, which tended to be more conservative than the music accompanying it. Another, perhaps even more difficult question is that of the influence of non-Turkish Balkan culture on Sephardic subtraditions in the Balkan area. This article addresses Greek influences in Salonika and Slavic influences in Bosnia. * * * When Spanish scholars began studying Sephardic folklore they established several preferences in their approach. One of them was associated with the generic system of the Sephardic tradition as not all genres were awarded the same attention. After the publication of Ramón Menéndez Pidal’s “Catálogo del romancero judío-español” (1906), the main interest was directed towards the collection and study of Sephardic romances. In addition, the Sephardic romancero was viewed mainly as a branch of the pan-Hispanic romancero. Although this approach was legitimate, it had two important albeit unintended consequences. In the first place, it eclipsed the study of other genres of Sephardic folklore. Secondly, it tended to highlight the relationship of Sephardic romances with their Hispanic sources, marginalizing the possible relationship of Sephardic folksongs to other traditions. This is illustrated by public attention given in Spain to the Sephardim as “guardians” of archaic Spanish heritage. On returning to Spain from his 1911 visit to the Balkans, where he collected a substantial number of Sephardic folksongs, Manuel Manrique de Lara published one of them in 1916. This was “Morirse quiere Aleixandre”, collected in Belgrade.1 Why this romance? The fact that the Sephardim in Serbia and Bulgaria still remembered it was a sensational discovery as this fifteenth-century romance had disappeared from the Peninsular tradition long ago. Since then a great deal of important research has been dedicated to the archaic features of the Sephardic romancero, its Peninsular sources and its role in the reconstruction of the old romancero. Samuel G. Armistead and Joseph H. Silverman were among the first to divert attention to another research perspective, highlighting the question of the relationship of Sephardic folklore to Balkan culture: Amén de nuestro bien justificado entusiasmo por el espléndido conservatismo medieval de la poesía tradicional sefardí, cabe la posibilidad de acercarnos 1 Manuel Manrique de Lara, “Romances españoles en los Balkanes”, Blanco y negro, no. 1285 (1916). 202 Krinka Vidaković-Petrov a la materia desde una perspectiva radicalmente diferente y hasta el momento incógnita: Los sefardíes del Mediterráneo Oriental llevan casi 500 años viviendo entre una abigarrada variedad de etnias balcánicas: griegos, turcos, eslavos, rumanos, albaneses. ¿No habrá nada en la poesía tradicional hispano-judía que se pueda atribuir a tan largos siglos de simbiosis balcánica?2 This perspective was first explored in Sephardic language and music, in which the Oriental (Turkish) influence was obvious,3 as it is in all the different ethnic traditions in the Balkans even today.4 Lexical borrowings from the Turkish language, present in Serbian, Bulgarian, Greek, Judeo-Spanish, and other Balkan languages, were transferred from colloquial speech to folksongs, and although in later periods a large number were suppressed both from colloquial and literary language, many remain preserved in folksongs. A case in question, highlighted by Armistead and Silverman, are the Turkish exclamations aman and džanum (in T. canum), typical of Turkish folksongs, but also found in Serbian, Sephardic and other Balkan folksongs. For all the Balkan traditions, however, the period beginning with the middle of the nineteenth century became a period of transition, although one has to keep in mind that the latter did not begin at the same time, nor did it proceed at the same pace and intensity in all areas of the Balkans. This becomes obvious when we look at three Sephardic subtraditions in the Yugoslav framework: Serbia, Bosnia, and Macedonia. 2 Samuel G. Armistead and Joseph H. Silverman, En torno al romancero sefardí (Hispanismo y balcanismo de la tradición judeo-española) con un estudio etnomusicológico por Israel J. Katz, traducción parcial de Iacob M. Hassán y Selma Margaretten, Seminario Menéndez Pidal, Madrid 1982, p. 153. 3 When I first started my own research on Sephardic folklore in Yugoslavia in the early 1970s, I noticed that I understood the meaning of most Turkish lexical borrowings in the Judeo-Spanish language because the same words had been adopted in my native Serbian language. Therefore, the conclusions of linguists and musicologists on this issue came as no surprise. 4 As far as the Serbian language is concerned, it is fairly easy to note a change at the beginning of the twentieth century due to the intensified transition from Oriental to European cultural models. On reading, for example, the stories by Haim S. Davicho on the life of the Belgrade Sephardim, written in Serbian and published in the last decades of the nineteenth century, one can notice many Turkish lexical borrowings which were then in everyday use but have disappeared from the modern Serbian language. The same can be noted in works by Serbian authors contemporary with Davicho. Folklore and literature are a storehouse of archaisms which colloquial language has left behind. 203 Some Balkan Specifics of Sephardic Folksongs By the beginning of the twentieth century most Sephardim in Serbia—men as well as women—were bilingual: they had adopted the Serbian language but had not forgotten Judeo-Spanish, although its use became ever more restricted. Sephardic writers in Serbia had by then integrated into Serbian and European literary trends, and none were writing in Judeo-Spanish. At the same time, in Bosnia, there were Sephardic writers bent on preserving and reviving Judeo-Spanish as a literary language (such as Abraham Cappon and Laura Papo) as well as linguists and historians (such as Moritz Levy and Kalmi Baruh) studying Sephardic culture and collecting Sephardic folklore. At the same time the Sephardim of Macedonia had only begun to integrate into the Slavic (Serbian/Yugoslav) linguistic environment. Due to the geographical proximity of Salonika and frequent migrations from there to Skopje, many Macedonian Sephardim knew the Greek language (unlike those in Serbia and Bosnia), and due to the late withdrawal of Turkish rule from this area, the influence of Turkish on the Macedonian dialects of Judeo-Spanish was stronger.5 So, while we might be able to explore Slavic/Serbian influences in the Sephardic traditions of Serbia and Bosnia, we would probably find none among the Sephardim of Macedonia. The Sephardic traditions of Macedonia and Salonika are more interesting for the research of Greek influences, not only because Salonika was embedded in a Greek linguistic environment, but also because of the presence in this area of the Byzantine Romaniot prior to the settlement of the Spanish Jews. The Greek-speaking Romaniot would later adopt the Judeo-Spanish language, but it stands to reason that some elements of their own verbal folklore could have been integrated into the Judeo- Spanish tradition. Regarding Balkan influences on Sephardic culture, we may assume three influences differing in degree, timing, and geography. First is the overall Turkish influence affecting all ethnic communities in the Balkans, which took place during the Ottoman period. Second is the Greek influence, both direct and indirect (mediated by the Romaniot), affecting a restricted area centered in Salonika, but spreading from there to other areas through migrations and other communication between Salonika, as the main port and trading center in this area, and the Balkan hinterland. Third is the Slavic influence restricted to the subtraditions of Serbia, Bosnia, and Bulgaria. Chronologically speaking, it appears after the first (Turkish) and second (Greek) layer 5 Some stories collected by Cynthia Crews in Skopje and Monastir are replete with Turkish lexical borrowings. 204 Krinka Vidaković-Petrov of influence. In addition, one has to keep in mind the fact that there are many folkloric elements common to the traditions of the Balkan peoples (Greeks, Serbs, Bulgarians, Romanians) owing to their centuries-long contact and interaction. * * * Regarding the complas de las flores, which Michael Molho attributed to the Salonikan poet Yehuda bar Leon Kali, Armistead and Silverman have shown that these complas are traditional in two respects: not only because they have become traditionalized among both Eastern and Western Sephardim, but also because their source is most probably the Greek oral tradition.6 Armistead and Silverman also indicate that songs in which personified “talking” flowers compete for the title of “flower of flowers” are common to various Balkan traditions. They conclude the following: “Sería del todo verosímil que el poeta sefardí se inspirara en alguna variante griega de esta canción pan-balcánica, procedente de la mísma ciudad de Salónica”.7 The genesis of the complas de las flores involved several steps. First, the promotion of Tubishvat as a new holiday addressed the need to remember Jerusalem and maintain hope in the abolishment of the galut. Although the celebration of the New Year of vegetation did not commemorate any Jewish historical or religious event, there was an awareness that this exile was perceived as being analogous to the previous exiles described in Biblical sources. It fit very well into the messianic tradition of the Balkan Sephardim, strengthened by the suffering caused by various calamities and the impact of Shabetay Zevi and his followers, felt in big centers such as Salonika and Istanbul as well as in small, geographically close communities such as Skopje and Monastir (Bitola).8 Tubishvat articulated these feelings and ideas in a paraliturgical form. In 6 Armistead and Silverman, “Las Complas de las flores y la poesía popular de los Balcanes”, En torno al romancero sefardí..., p. 190. 7 Ibid., p. 193. 8 Regarding Skopje, disruptions in the life of the Sephardic community were caused by fires, epidemics, and military conflicts waged between the Austrians and the Ottomans. In 1688, the city was taken by the Austrian army led by General G. N. Picollomini. Although the Ottomans recaptured the city in 1690, the suffering of the Skopje population, Jews included, and the destruction of the city were enormous. Regarding the impact of Shabetay Zevi’s messianic movement in Skopje, Dr. Moric Levi highlights the following: “From his birth in Smyrna until his imprisonment and death in Ulcinj, Shabetay Zevi traveled the whole Balkan area four times. In 1657, he visited all 205 Some Balkan Specifics of Sephardic Folksongs the first place, the complas celebrated the Creator; secondly, the natural world and its cyclical renovation; thirdly, the rebirth of nature in the Homeland; fourthly, the symbolic rebirth of the Jewish nation, and most of all—the hope of deliverance from exile. The pattern for the complas de las flores was adopted from the Balkan oral tradition, but with important adaptations resulting from its transfer from one context (Greek: individual, secular, associated with love, with some erotic tones) to another (Jewish: collective, paraliturgical, national), involving an important semantic shift. It is also very interesting to note the evolution of Tubishvat as a holiday: it was introduced in the context of traditional Sephardic messianism in order to be later taken over by the Zionists as it fit in very well with their own ideology.9 The Zionists highlighted “trees” rather than the “flowers and fruits” of the traditional complas. Here we follow places in the vicinity of Salonika, Skopje perhaps being one of them. The same might be true for his assistant, Nathan of Gaza, who passed away in Sofia. His movement exerted a strong influence in this area, recruited many followers, and could be felt even twenty years after his death. Around the same time there was another calamity that struck Skopje and its Jews. It is described in the letters of the Austrian military commander Picollomini, who mentions 400 Jewish families who lost their homes in a fire [enveloping the city]. This event is also described in other sources that include information on the Jews ...” (Moric Levi, “Naši s juga. Jevreji u Skoplju”, Omanut 10-11 (1940), pp. 162-170). During two Austrian occupations of Belgrade, the latter took many Jews as hostages, some of whom were released after payment of large ransoms. One of them was Nechemia Chayun from Sarajevo, a follower of Shabetay Zevi, who after that came to Skopje, where he served as rabbi (1697-1701). 9 With time it became a holiday associated mainly with children. Yet, it is interesting to note how it was later renewed as an element of Zionist ideology. In a booklet Youth and Keren Kayemet Leyisrael, Tubishvat is highlighted as “marking the fateful tragedy of the nation removed from its land and severed from its roots”, the earth/land being “the departing point for the recuperation of the nation and the renewed fertilization of original creativity” (Omladina i Keren Kajemet Lejisrael. Temelji ideologije KKL-a. Upute za odgojni i praktični rad za KKL, Zagreb 1936, p. 30). Interestingly enough, we find this interpretation together with a “generational divide” mentioned in the diary written by Hermann Helfgott, a Yugoslav rabbi interned in a POW camp in Germany during World War II. Helfgott describes the celebration of Tubishvat in the camp: “In the program ‘Trees Converse’, which was checked by censors of both sides, the issue of the older and younger generations was raised: the former who ate the fruits and recited the blessings over them, and the younger generation aspiring to plant with their own hands and to eat the produce of their own toil” (Zvi Asaria–Hermann Helfgott, We Are Witnesses, Yad Vashem, Jerusalem 2010, p. 72). 206 Krinka Vidaković-Petrov the path leading from Greek secular love songs to Sephardic paraliturgical complas and further to Zionist interpretations that stress the ideological aspect of the holiday— the symbolism of planting trees and actively taking the future into one’s own hands— rather than the complas celebrating the Creator and passively hoping for deliverance. * * * Armistead and Silverman have identified several Sephardic romances derived from other Greek folksongs. The formal and stylistic features of El pozo airón are those of the Spanish romance, but these scholars have demonstrated that it is actually derived from a Greek ballad: “El trogoúdi griego del Pozo endemoniado y su derivado sefardí, El pozo airón, nos proporcionan un espléndido ejemplo de cómo emigran las baladas de una tradición lingüística a otra, por vía puramente oral”.10 Another such example is El sueño de la hija derived from the Greek ballad El sueño de la moza.11 El pozo airón is about seven brothers who are traveling. Plagued by thirst, they come to a well and one of them must be lowered into it to fetch water, but the rope breaks and he plunges to his death. The Sephardic text follows the Greek one up to the final monologue of the dying man. Here the Greek text features an element typical of the Balkan tradition: the metaphorical identification of death and marriage (when the deceased is a young unmarried man). Namely, the unfortunate brother stuck in the well asks his brothers not to tell their mother that he has died, but that he has married the daughter of a brujo and hechizera (an allusion to his passage to the “other” world inhabited by the dead). The Sephardic version follows the Greek source, but ignores the final metaphor. Although deeply embedded in the Balkan folkloric imagination, the latter seemingly did not appeal to the Sephardic singer. Unlike the Greek ballad which encodes death in a metaphor, the Sephardic version avoids figurative language: the dying man’s family (mother, wife, children) are to be told that they have lost their son, husband, and father. While in the Greek ballad the victim is young and single, in the Sephardic romance he is a married man, and this seems to explain why the death-wedding metaphor is missing in the Sephardic version. Another difference between the Greek and Sephardic versions is the context of performance. While the Greek ballad has no specified context of performance, the Sephardic version was performed during Tishabeav. The association of a song featuring death, regardless of the reasons leading to it, with Tishabeav was common, 10 “Baladas griegas en el romancero sefardí”, En torno al romancero sefardí ... p. 156. 11 Ibid., p. 159. 207 Some Balkan Specifics of Sephardic Folksongs so El pozo airón only follows this tendency. However, the new context of performance might explain the change of the character of the protagonist and the introduction of the widow and orphans. In the Sephardic rendering death is not a poetic image. On the contrary, it is an event producing widows and orphans, a family tragedy remembered within the commemoration of collective tragedy. Thus, this pan-Balkan poetic metaphor identifying death and marriage failed to pass into the Sephardic tradition. However, El sueño de la hija might be an example showing how another one succeeded. The introduction of El sueño de la hija features a motif typical of the Hispanic tradition: the queen of France has three daughters, “la una lavrava, la otra kozía,/ la más chika d’eyas bastidor azia”. As indicated by Armistead and Silverman, this is one of those Sephardic songs whose origin was not known, but whose “hispanismo”, stressed by the introductory motif, was taken for granted. The theme of the Greek source, as indicated by Armistead and Silverman, is the interpretation of a young girl’s dream rendered through a dialogue between daughter and mother and consisting of three segments. First the daughter presents the dream, then her mother interprets it negatively (as a premonition of the daughter’s death), finally the daughter interprets it (as a premonition of her own wedding). The dream consists of three elements: a garden, a tower, and a river. The mother interprets the garden as a cemetery, the tower as her daughter’s tomb, and the river of tears mourning her daughter. The daughter interprets the garden as her wedding, the tower as her groom, two rivers coming together as their bond of love and marriage. By giving two opposite interpretations, the Greek source not only suggests how the interpretation of dreams varies, but also establishes a clear three-part lyrical structure based on contrastive parallelism. On the other hand, the Sephardic version combines the Hispanic introductory motif—setting the scene of the mother-daughter dialogue—with the dream and its interpretation. One of the three daughters falls asleep and tells her mother of her dream. The dream differs from the one in the Greek sources cited by Armistead and Silverman: “M’apar’a la puerta, vide venir la luna yena:/ aldaridor di eya, todas las istreyas”. Only the mother interprets the dream, saying the full moon is the konsuegra and the stars parienteras. Obviously the set of three elements (garden-tower-river) associated with the landscape in the Greek version has been replaced by a set of two elements (moon-stars) referring to the skyscape. Although the choice of dream-image is different, the decoding of the dream metaphor is the same: it represents a wedding. Is the moon-star-wedding image an innovation in the Sephardic song? The metaphor identifying the sun, moon, and stars 208 Krinka Vidaković-Petrov with a wedding procession is common in the Balkan tradition. The Serbian tradition, for example, features “mythological” lyrical songs consisting almost entirely of this metaphor. A Romanian ballad combines the death-wedding metaphor with a second metaphor identifying the sun, moon, and stars as members of a wedding procession. Might we assume that the second metaphor was transferred to El sueño de la hija from Balkan sources? If the assumption is correct, then it shows how a metaphor common in the Balkan tradition has been successfully integrated into a Sephardic lyrical song. * * * Regarding Slavic influences, the specific Bosnian type of song known as the sevdalinka offers some insight into this issue. Unlike most other regions of the Balkans (except the Albanian one), part of the local Slavic population in Bosnia (Serbs and Croats) converted to Islam during the long Ottoman rule in this province. The “new” Muslims continued to use their local language (Serbian/Croatian), but what was specific for them was that in comparison with the majority Christian population they were more open to Turkish influence, religious, linguistic, and cultural in general. Gradually, a Slavic Muslim culture evolved in Bosnia, especially in the towns inhabited by the Muslim social elite. The sevdalinka, whose popularity culminated at the beginning of the twentieth century, was a result of this Slavic-Turkish cultural interaction. It is a song distinguished by two traits: the way it is sung and its theme. While the older Bosnian songs featured melismatic ornaments, frequent alternation, repetition of lines and parts of lines, use of the exclamation aman, the new sevdalinka sought to exaggerate these traits and focus on a single theme—love.12 It was not love in general, but a specific kind of love denoted by the Turkish words sevdah (from which name of these songs is derived) and dert. Both are used in the Serbian language, where they are translated as love suffering (ljubavni jadi) as well as in Bosnian Judeo- Spanish (dulor di amor). Love as suffering rather than happiness was to some extent a result of restrictions imposed by a number of cultural, social, or religious factors. It appeared in a multi-ethnic and multi-cultural society with strong patriarchal traits in which marriage was negotiated by parents and had nothing to do with love, where the separation of social classes allowed for no marital bonds between the affluent and the needy, and where inter-religious and inter-ethnic marriages were unacceptable. The greatest victims in patriarchal society were women, subject to strict restrictions 12 Vlado Milošević, Bosanske narodne pjesme, Banja Luka 1954, I, 14-15. 209 Some Balkan Specifics of Sephardic Folksongs in dress, movement, and communication. The sevdalinka, which expressed and exaggerated love suffering, thus became a popular form within the framework of the lyrical genre of love songs. The sevdalinka known in the Serbian tradition as “Separated lovers”, collected in the nineteenth century,13 opens with the image of a garden and two flowers representing the separated lovers. The young man writes asking his beloved how she is doing without him, and she answers that if the sky were paper, and the trees pens, and the sea ink, and if she wrote for three years she could not express her love suffering. The abundant Turkish lexical borrowings suggest that the song originated in the Bosnian Muslim environment and that it was probably derived from a Turkish source—a mani containing the same hyperbole. However, the hyperbole is not originally Turkish, but Jewish. From ancient Jewish sources it spread throughout Byzantine and West European literature, both oral and written, and also to the Turkish oral tradition, from which it reached the Bosnian Muslim environment.14 At the same time, the originally Jewish hyperbole is found in the Balkan Sephardic tradition, both in Salonika and in Bosnia. However, while in Salonika it appears in endechas associated with Tishabeav, in Bosnia it appears as part of an eclectic love song reading: “... los cielos quiero por papel, / la mar quiero por tinta, / los árboles por péndola, / para escribir mis dertes”.15 The influence of the sevdalinka on the Sephardic interpretation of this hyperbole in Bosnia is manifested in its transfer from the Jewish Tishabeav context to the secular context of lyrical love poetry, more specifically the concept of dert as articulated by the sevdalinka. The Bosnian Sephardic version is an analogue of the local sevdalinka and was probably sung the same way as the latter. The “new” Sephardic love songs modeled after sevdalinkas popularized a way of singing different from that of the romances, which refrained from exaggeration in the melismatic aspect.16 However, at the beginning of the twentieth century the romances 13 Vuk Stefanović Karadžić, Srpske narodne pjesme, Beograd 1969, I, no. 553. 14 On versions and various interpretations of this hyperbole in European literature, see Krinka Vidaković-Petrov, “Istorija jedne retoričke formule”, Književna istorija, 1985, pp. 183-206. 15 Samuel Elazar, El romancero judeo-español, Sarajevo 1987, p. 146. 16 Samuel Kamhi, “Jezik, pjesme i poslovice bosansko-hercegovačkih Sefarada”, Spomenica 400 godina od dolaska Jevreja u Bosnu i Hercegovinu, Sarajevo, 1966, p. 115. 210 Krinka Vidaković-Petrov were losing ground due to the growing popularity of love songs open to various external influences. The romance as a narrative-lyrical genre preserved in the tradition could hardly resist the pressure of the purely lyrical genre of love songs. Sephardic women in Sarajevo were still singing the “old Spanish romances”, but enriching their repertoire with new Bosnian sevdalinkas they performed both in the local language and in Judeo-Spanish translation.17 Here is an example of a translated sevdalinka: Asentada en la ventana, lavrando estaba el bastidor, un haber negro me vino, que el mío amor espozó ...18 The source of this fragment is a Serbian song collected in the nineteenth century.19 While the original text is in the ten-syllable line typical of the Serbian tradition, the translation seeks to adapt to the metrical pattern of the Sephardic romance as well as to add an introductory motif typical of the latter. Further research could show to what extent the Judeo-Spanish translations of sevdalinkas might have been literal, although this particular example suggests that translation also involved adaptation to generic patterns encoded in the target language. Laura Papo Bohoreta mentions cantigas sevdalinkas in her unpublished theater piece titled Times of the Past, in which she describes Sephardic life in Sarajevo of the generation preceding her own. We know that the sevdalinkas were popular among Sephardic women at the beginning of the century, but information on previous contacts of the Bosnian Sephardim with the Slavic oral tradition is scarce. A valuable insight into this issue is provided by an article written by the Serbian literary critic Jovan Kršić titled “David Kamhi’s ‘Cantigas srpescas’”.20 It was first published in the Serbian literary journal Pregled [Review] and reprinted in 1934 in the Sarajevo newspaper Jevrejski glas [Jewish Voice]. The article is about David Kamhi (1834- 17 Samuel Elazar, “Narodna medicina sefardskih Jevreja u Bosni”, Spomenica 400 godina od dolaska Jevreja u Bosnu i Hercegovinu, Sarajevo, 1966, p. 161. 18 Samuel Elazar, El romancero judeo-español, p. 101. 19 This is a translation of a Serbian song collected in the nineteenth century which reads: “Sinoć meni kara haber dođe, / kara haber i u kara doba, / da se moja draga preprosila (Vuk Stefanović Karadžić, Srpske narodne pjesme, Beograd 1969, I, no. 544). 20 Jovan Kršić, “’Cantigas srpescas’ Davida Kamhija”, Jevrejski glas, February 9, 1934. 211 Some Balkan Specifics of Sephardic Folksongs 1920), a tinsmith from Sarajevo, who towards the end of his life made a pilgrimage to Palestine, where he died. Kamhi’s notebook came into the possession of Dr. Moric Levi, the grand rabbi of Sarajevo, who copied the Serbian folksongs and gave them to his friend Kršić. The latter wrote that “in the mid-nineteenth century”, the young Kamhi, who liked to socialize and sing, wrote down his favorite songs on the spare pages of his ledger book. Some of them were in Judeo-Spanish, others in Turkish, and seventeen of them in Serbian. Kamhi’s collection of Serbian folksongs suggests that in the mid-nineteenth century the male members of the Sephardic community— mostly traders, artisans, and shopkeepers in the commercial district of Sarajevo— knew not only Turkish, but also Serbian. Kamhi himself appreciated the cantigas srpescas enough to write them down.21 Samuel Elazar provides another piece of information on this issue in his article on the popular medicine of the Bosnian Sephardim. Elazar wrote about a Sephardic ljekaruša (medical manual) from 1820, which in addition to information on traditional medicine, contains songs in various languages—several prayers in Hebrew, a song in Judeo-Spanish and one in Serbian—all transcribed in rashi script.22 We also know that a certain David Pardo living in nineteenth-century Bosnia wrote down two songs he had heard on his travels: one is from Mostar (Herzegovina) and the other from Tuzla (Bosnia).23 These three examples refer to the gender aspect regarding the issue of contacts of the Sephardim with their environment. The men, who had to communicate with the Turkish administration as well as with the local business environment, knew both Turkish and Serbian. This enabled them to familiarize themselves with Turkish and Serbian folksongs. However, the women, who rarely ventured outside the home and community grounds, knew only Judeo-Spanish. The general “opening” of the Bosnian Sephardic community (both men and women) toward their surroundings began only after the Ottomans withdrew from Bosnia and Herzegovina in 1878, ceding the province to Austria-Hungary. The transfer of Bosnia into a European framework abolished the Ottoman millet system, breaking the isolation of the Sephardic community. However, 21 Most of them are included in the classic nineteenth-century collection of Serbian folksongs compiled by Vuk Stefanović Karadžić and among them are both epic and lyrical songs. 22 Samuel Elazar, “Narodna medicina sefardskih Jevreja u Bosni”, Spomenica 400 godina od dolaska Jevreja u Bosnu i Hercegovinu, Sarajevo 1966, p. 158. 23 Krinka Vidaković-Petrov, Kultura španskih Jevreja na jugoslovenskom tlu [The Culture of the Spanish Jews in Yugoslavia], Sarajevo 1990 [second edition], pp. 258 and 260. 212 Krinka Vidaković-Petrov the effects of this change could be felt only two decades later. Two important elements of this process were the emancipation of Sephardic women and general assimilation to the local language (Serbian/Croatian) and the appearance of bilingualism. This coincided with the peaking popularity of the cantigas sevdalinkas, which could by the beginning of the twentieth century be adopted by Sephardic women as lyrical songs expressing both “Oriental passion and yearning” and nostalgia for an epoch fading into the past. The cantigas sevdalinkas themselves were a sign of Sephardic integration into the Slavic Bosnian environment as Sephardic women began singing the same songs as their non-Jewish counterparts, first translated to the language— Judeo-Spanish—of their own oral tradition, and later in the original language. The notion of love denoted by dert was integrated into the Bosnian Sephardic tradition, resulting in the specifically Bosnian Sephardic interpretation of the above-mentioned sky-trees-sea (paper-pens-ink) hyperbole, where the final “para escribir mis dertes” coincides with the “writing of love suffering” in the Serbian song. The cantigas sevdalinkas are an example of Turkish influence mediated by the Slavic tradition, resulting in the introduction of a specific form of love song into the lyrical genre of Bosnian Sephardic folklore. 213 Some Balkan Specifics of Sephardic Folksongs 214 Zoran Rakić Art 215 Some Balkan Specifics of Sephardic Folksongs 216 Zoran Rakić Islamic Influence on Illumination of Sixteenth and Seventeenth-Century Serbian Manuscripts Zoran Rakić University of Belgrad In the course of the sixteenth century, when Turkish rule finally became stable in the entire Balkan Peninsula, a more tangible penetration of Islamic influences in Serbian art came about. This influence was most appreciable in the ornamental repertoire of applied arts—the goldsmith trade, intarsia, and textile decoration—while it was present to a far lesser extent in the domains of painting and architecture. In painting, Islamic influence was the strongest in the field of book illuminations, and this reached its culmination during the second half of the sixteenth century and in the beginning of the seventeenth.1 In the development of Serbian miniature painting of that period, one can even single out a separate trend to which manuscripts belonged, one in which the painted ornament digressed to a certain degree from the Serbian art of that time because it came into being under a more tangible influence of Islamic ornamentation.2 Illuminated manuscripts constituted the essence of this group, the authors of which were the well-known scribe and illuminator, the priest Jovan of Kratovo and 1 The influence of Islamic art on ornamentation of Balkan manuscripts of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries has also been discussed by S. Radojčić, Stare srpske minijature, Belgrade 1950, p. 52; Z. Janc, Islamski elementi u srpskoj knjizi, Zbornik Muzeja primenjene umetnosti 5 (Belgrade 1961), pp. 27-43; S. Petković, Islamski uticaj na srpsko slikarstvo u doba turske vladavine, in: Zbornik radova I kongresa društava istoričara umetnosti SFRJ, Ohrid 1976, pp. 81-85, 89 and Z. Rakić, Srpska minijatura XVI i XVII veka, Belgrade 2012, pp. 122-135. Cf. the articles by A. Dzurova, Islyamski vliyaniya v’rhu ukrasata na b’lgarskite r’kopisi XV-XVII vek, Problemi na izkustvoto 3 (Sofia 1980) and Islyamski vliyaniya v’rhu ukrasata na b’lgarskite r’kopisi ot XV-XVII v, Literaturoznanie i folkloristika v chest akademiku Petru Dinekovu, Sofia 1983, pp. 182-186. 2 More on the subject in Z. Rakić, Srpska minijatura XVI i XVII veka, 107, pp. 122-135. 217 Some Balkan Specifics of Sephardic Folksongs his closest followers. Among their accomplishments, one may include a certain number of books decorated in a similar way, which were created throughout the entire seventeenth century generally by unknown scribes—illuminators. Some of those calligraphers linked their work to the copying centers of the Holy Mount, from where they supplied illuminated manuscripts not only to Chilandar but also to the monasteries of the domicile regions of the Patriarchate of Peć. Belonging to the group of books in manuscript that came into being under the influence of Islamic art are two unique achievements—the copy of the Miners’ Code of Despot Stefan Lazarević and the Karan Gospel. The ornamental repertoire as well as certain elements of the layout of these two works demonstrate strikingly Oriental elements. The most prominent calligrapher and illuminator from the circle of authors who worked under the influence of Islamic ornamentation was the priest Jovan from Kratovo.3 About ten of his manuscripts have been preserved. Today, these are kept in the libraries of Sofia, Belgrade, and Bucharest and in the monasteries of the Holy Mount, Chilandar and Zographou. The most significant contribution by the priest Jovan of Kratovo to the history of sixteenth-century Serbian and Balkan book illuminations consists of the creation of a new decorative system which unified the achievements of the Byzantine and Islamic elements with the ornamentation of that time into one eclectic but harmonious ensemble. The luxurious floral ornamentation 3 Although there is extensive literature about Jovan of Kratovo, a critical monography about his opus has not yet been written. The most important works on the subject include V. Brătulescu, Miniaturi şi manuscrise din Museul de artă religioasă, Bucureşti 1939, pp. 17-18, 89-98, 153-154; S. Radojčić, Stare srpske minijature, pp. 16, 51-52; L. Mirković, Protopop Jovan Srbin iz Kratova, prepisivač i minijator knjiga (1526-1583), Bogoslovlje I /XVI/ (Belgrade 1957), pp. 23-26; A. Bozhkov, Deloto na zografa Ivan ot Kratovo, Izkustvo 10 (Sofia 1968), pp. 23-25; Z. Janc, Prepisivačka škola popa Jovana iz Kratova i njeni odjeci u kasnijem minijaturnom slikarstvu, Zbornik Muzeja primenjene umetnosti 15 (Belgrade 1971), pp. 111-128; V. Pandurski, Pametnici na izkustvoto v tsrkovniya istoriko- arheologicheski muzey—Sofia, Sofia 1977, pp. 21, 402-403, ill. 64-70; B. Raykov, Dva r’kopisa na Ioan Kratovski v Zografskiya manastir, Hilandarski zbornik 6 (Belgrade 1986), pp. 297-306; M. Harisijadis, Najstariji rukopis ispisan u Kratovu u prvoj polovini XVI veka, Zbornik MS za likovne umetnosti 27-28 (Novi Sad 1992), pp. 213-216; E. Musakova, Evangelski r’kopisi s miniatyuri ot Tsrkovni muzey v Sofia, in B’lgarskiyat shestnadeseti vek, Sofia 1996, pp. 661-664, 668, 690-698; Z. Rakić, Minijature srpskih rukopisa XVI i XVII veka u biblioteci manastira Hilandara, Hilandarski zbornik 10 (Belgrade 1998), pp. 320-322; Z. Rakić, Srpska minijatura XVI i XVII veka, pp. 55-57, 122-130, 215-225. 218 Zoran Rakić of Islamic origin and the headpieces, in which the author’s portrait of the Evangelist was painted, occupy a prominent place in such a decorative scheme. All of Jovan’s manuscripts were decorated in a similar way. The core of their decorative schemes consisted of large rectangular headpieces above the beginning of each Gospel, with an inscribed medallion in the shape of a four-lobed leaf of Islamic inspiration. The figure of an Evangelist was painted on the natural color of the paper base in that field. A stem with stylized or realistically depicted blossoms of wild roses, carnations, and hyacinths ascended from the lower edge of the headpiece along the right hand margin. The other surfaces of those headpieces were filled with a floral ornament made up of interwoven plant shoots, similar to the so-called rumi ornamentation. The decorativeness of the pages was increased with titles carefully written out in gold capital letters and gilded interwoven initials which highlighted the beginnings of the texts. One may rightfully assume that it was the priest Jovan from Kratovo himself who founded such a style of decoration. He created the recognizable type of headpiece with the medallion containing the miniature with the author’s portrait of the Evangelist by emulating different models. He unified three elements. The first was the artistic creativity of that time. The second was the achievements of the Byzantine miniature, especially those of the so-called neo-Byzantine or luxurious style from the middle through the third quarter of the fourteenth century, which featured the author’s portrait in a square or quatrefoil field within the frame of the headpiece covered with a rich floral ornamentation.4 The third was the prominent influences of Islamic art, expressed in the plant ornaments, especially in the faithfully represented blossoms of the carnation, hyacinth, tulip, and wild rose, as well as in the use of rumi ornamentation.5 All the manuscripts this illuminator and his followers would decorate during the next two decades would represent only a further elaboration of that basic solution. 4 V. Mošin, Ornamentika neovizantiskog i balkanskog stila, Godišnjak Balkanološkog instituta knj. 1 (Sarajevo 1957), pp. 325-326; M. Harisijadis, Raskošni vizantijski stil u ornamentici južnoslovenskih rukopisa iz XIV i XV veka, in: Moravska škola i njeno doba, Belgrade 1972, pp. 215, 218-219 et passim; D. Bogdanović, V. J. Đurić, D. Medaković, Chilandar, Belgrade 1978, p. 110, ill. 79; P. Christou, Ch. Tsioumis, S. Kadas, The Treasures of Mount Athos. Illuminated Manuscripts II, Athens 1975, pp. 389-391, ill. 420- 423, 426-427; J. Maksimović, Srpske srednjovekovne minijature, Belgrade 1983, pp. 42- 43, 50-53, 103-106, color reproductions 19-25. 5 Islamic elements in Serbian manuscripts were most comprehensively covered in Z. Janc, Islamski elementi u srpskoj knjizi, pp. 27-43. 219 Some Balkan Specifics of Sephardic Folksongs Judging by the powerful influence that such a type of ornament had on forming the regional Kratovo school, as well as on the illuminations in the Serbian, Bulgarian, and Vlachian-Moldovan lands and on the Holy Mount, it is certain to have pleased the contemporaries of the priest Jovan and was accepted as a kind of fashion or manner throughout the entire second half of the sixteenth century. Slightly altered, this manner of ornamentation would be applied in illuminations later as well, during the whole of the seventeenth century.6 The next phase in the penetration of Islamic influences in the layout and the painted ornaments of Serbian books of the late sixteenth century is indicated in the copy of the Law on Mines of Despot Stefan Lazarević, which came into being around 1580. Judging by the shape of the letters and the character of the ornaments, this manuscript can be attributed with a good deal of certainty to the hand of Jovan of Kratovo.7 However, the manuscript contains the vivid presence of elements taken from the tradition of the formation and decoration of Oriental books. These imitations in the Code were not limited only to the ornamentation, as was the case with other books by Jovan of Kratovo, but also included the book binding and partly the decorative scheme of the written pages. As for the outer form of the book, the Islamic influence is reflected in its visibly elongated format, which is a unique feature of Islamic books, and in the binding, which was decorated with a central arabesque in gold print and was equipped with a typical overlapping flap. In the decorative system of the pages, the Oriental elements were expressed in a frame made out of a gold line that served as a rim around the narrow block of letters and, even to a greater extent, in the type of headpiece at the beginning of the text of the Code. It was designed in the shape of an arabesque, painted with precision in gold, in which stems of chickpeas were woven into the shape of the number eight, combined with four large stylized leaves.8 The initials and 6 Z. Rakić, Minijature srpskih rukopisa XVI i XVII veka u biblioteci manastira Hilandara, 322 et passim; Z. Rakić, Srpska minijatura XVI i XVII veka, pp. 57-59; 159-166, 182-183. 7 B. Jovanović-Stipčević, Ko je pisar prepisa “Zakona o rudnicima despota Stefana Lazarevića”?, Zbornik Matice srpske za filologiju i lingvistiku XXXIII (Novi Sad 1990), pp. 197-202; Z. Rakić, Srpska minijatura XVI i XVII veka, pp. 123, 128, 130-131, 224-225 (which also includes older bibliography). 8 Jovan painted similar ornamental elements in several other manuscripts. The solutions closest to the headpiece from the Miner’s Code were executed in the Four Gospels No. 34 and 250 (Sofia, Church-Historical and Archival Institute) and in the Service book No. 31 (Rila Monastery library). 220 Zoran Rakić the titles, written out in melted gold and dark blue, do not exceed the framework of the tradition of decorating Serbian manuscripts in those times, while the miniature at the beginning of the book—a kind of author’s group portrait of the 20 members of the Judicial Mining Council (the compilers of the Miners’ Code), ranked in four rows of five members—came into existence as a copy of the model from the times of the Serbian Despotate.9 The presence of Islamic elements in the layout of this valuable codex raises the question of the reasons that led to precisely such a solution. To all intents and purposes, the most appropriate answer might be found in the specific historical circumstances in which the copy originated. The aspiration for the renewal of mining in the Turkish Empire, which was particularly strong during the reign of Suleyman the Magnificent, reverberated even in the regions inhabited by Serbs, where traditions regarding that activity had been long-lasting and intense.10 Then, or slightly earlier, the Serbian mining laws were translated into Turkish, and copies like these were written for those who had no knowledge of that language and were engaged in business connected with mining. Judging by the Oriental appearance of the manuscript and also by the entries in it,11 one might even assume that the copying of the Code was commissioned by the Turks, perhaps even in Kratovo, which was also an important mining center and was in the fact for a while it was even in their possession.12 9 N. Radojčić, Zakon o rudnicima despota Stefana Lazarevića, Belgrade 1962, p. 19, has convincingly proven that the characters in the miniature are intended to represent the members of the mining council, i.e., the creators of the Code. He found grounds for his claim in a description of a similar image in the Bohemian Miner’s Code: Das ordentlich gerichte ist, wann der richter czu gerichte siczet auff dem gerichtstul in den vier benken also, das da gesampnet sein ettliche gesworne und andere, die czu dem gericht gehorn. Und also sol er fur sich farn in den sachen, as gewonlich ist. So bestetigt er das gerichte in sotaner weis. Cfr. A. Zycha, Das böhmische Bergrecht des Mittelalters auf Grundlage des Bergrechts von Iglau II, Die Quellen des Iglauer Bergrechts, Berlin 1900, pp. 220-221. 10 For more details, see S. Ćirković, D. Kovačević–Kojić, R. Ćuk, Staro srpsko rudarstvo, Belgrade 2002. 11 In one of the entries (fol. 27v), it is noted that in 1707 the manuscript of the Code was being kept in the library of the Metropolitan of Belgrade and Požarevac, kir Mihailo, and that it had been presented to him by hećim baša Halipašić (head physician of the Belgrade garrison). 12 However, one should not easily dismiss the theory of B. Jovanović-Stipčević (Ko je pisar prepisa “Zakona o rudnicima despota Stefana Lazarevića”?, p. 198) that the copy had been ordered by one of the local dignitaries involved in the mining business in the area. 221 Some Balkan Specifics of Sephardic Folksongs However, the culmination of Islamization in the layout of Serbian books was achieved in the painted ornamentation and general appearance of the Karan Gospel.13 According to the data offered in a note in the book, the Karan Gospel was written out by the priest Vuk in 1608 in the village of Karan near Užice.14 The painted ornament of the manuscript consists of the author’s portraits of the Evangelists, depicted in the center of large square headpieces, then in smaller headpieces, one of which contains a medallion with the image of the Virgin with Christ and initials. The text of the Gospel is set in a frame of simple double lines, and on the pages with miniatures, this frame is strengthened by a band in the shape of a meander. Besides the outstanding richness and precise workmanship of the decorative elements, at first glance one can already observe that most of them—three of a total of four larger headpieces and all the smaller headpieces—were executed completely in the spirit of the Islamic tradition of decorating books. The luxuriously decorated headpieces at the beginning of the Gospels according to Matthew, Mark, and Luke were made up of two harmoniously integrated ensembles: in the lower part is a square headpiece with the author’s portrait and in the upper, a narrower ornamental field with the characteristic floral endings that frequently appear in illuminated specimens of the Koran. The surface of these headpieces and the other headpieces are filled with skillfully executed rumi ornaments, sometimes combined with small branches of roses. Such motifs were characteristic of Oriental, and particularly Persian manuscripts of the sixteenth century.15 The colors the illuminator used—light blue, turquoise, black, orange, white and silver—were not characteristic of the decoration of Serbian 13 The manuscript was published by D. Medaković, Karansko četvorojevanđelje, Bibliotekar 3-4 (Belgrade 1959), pp. 205-214 and Z. Janc, Islamski elementi u minijaturama Karanskog jevanđelja, Godišnjak Naučnog društva BiH II (Sarajevo 1961), pp. 159-170. Cfr. et Z. Rakić, Srpska minijatura XVI i XVII veka, 132-135, 227-228 (which also includes older bibliography). 14 Lj. Stojanović, Stari srpski zapisi i natpisi I, Belgrade 1902, №. 964-968. 15 Z. Janc, who conducted the most thorough studies of the ornamentation of the Four Gospels of Karan, determined that its illuminator could have also seen that type of decorative element in Oriental manuscripts originating in our region. She finds closest analogies in the manuscript of Firdusi’s Shahnamah (1573, Zagreb, State Archives), manuscripts No. О. III. 288-III in the State Archives in Skoplje, No. 272 in Husrev-beg Library in Sarajevo, and No. 151 in the Oriental collection of Croatian Academy of Sciences and Arts in Zagreb (Z. Janc, Islamski elementi u minijaturama Karanskog jevanđelja, p. 164). 222 Zoran Rakić manuscripts but they were common in Islamic illuminations. The elongated format of the textual block as well as the bands that frame it contributed to eastern taste, all of which was in complete harmony with the manner of producing Oriental books. Only the painted headpiece in front of the text of the Gospel of John was conceived in the spirit of Serbian manuscript ornamentation. Its surface is filled with a pattern featuring a Greek cross with the author’s portrait in its center. Even though there are chick-pea leaves, which are an indubitably Islamic motif, woven into the heading’s pattern, the entire composition is familiar to the ornamental repertoire of Serbian manuscripts and early printed books.16 Lavish ornamentation is of utmost importance in this manuscript. Any detail that would not contribute purely to the decorative effect of the whole had been either excluded or given a minor role. This overpowering dominance of the ornament over figural representations is best evinced by the miniatures. Practically lost in the polychrome and a plethora of skillfully painted decorative motifs, the drawings of evangelists and Virgin and Child have been executed clumsily, schematized, and subsequently colored, inept for autonomous artistic life. The unusual decoration of the Four Gospels of Karan is undoubtedly work of a Turkish illuminator—a muzehhib, a master specializing in executing ornamental motifs. After all, it would be hard to imagine that a Serbian miniature painter could master the decorative language of Oriental miniature to this extent, while remaining pronouncedly ill-educated in the art of depicting evangelists. There is no evidence that priest Vuk ordered the book, and in all likelihood he was only the scribe. The anonymous patron probably liked the luxurious and decorative layout of Turkish books, and as there were good calligraphers in Užice,17 he could have easily employed 16 An almost identical type of square headpiece with a wreath surrounding interwoven bands forming a cross was executed in the Belgrade Aleksandrida, the Compendium of Vladislav the Grammaticus in Zagreb, the Four Gospels No. 333 from the old National Library in Belgrade, The Hopovo Gospel from 1662, the printed edition of the Psalter of Cetinje from 1494 etc. (S. Radojčić, Stare srpske minijature, tab. XXXVIII, XLa, XLb and XLV; D. Medaković, Grafika srpskih štampanih knjiga XV-XVII veka, Belgrade 1958, p. 91, tab. VII/2. 17 Evliya Ҫelebi, a famous Turkish travel, writer left valuable evidence about Užice as an important center for book binding and decoration in 1664 (E. Ҫelebi, Putopis. Odlomci o jugoslovenskim zemljama, Sarajevo 1973, p. 388). Preserved data indicate that Užice also had a library of Oriental manuscripts. (H. Šabanović, Islamska kultura u jugoslovenskim zemljama do XVIII veka, in: Istorija naroda Jugoslavije II, Belgrade 1960, p. 570). 223 Some Balkan Specifics of Sephardic Folksongs one of them to paint the ornaments. Priest Vuk’s contribution was initially limited to copying the text and executing initials. His colleague, the Turkish miniature-painter, painted the ornaments in the spirit of the art he belonged to, and inside the large headpieces he left empty squares for the portraits of authors. As he was unaccustomed to decorating Christian manuscripts, the surfaces he dedicated to these representations were too small. When he was supposed to start working on the heading at the beginning of the Gospel of John, the patron appeared and reviewed the painted ornamentation, most of which had already been completed at the time. He was probably dissatisfied with the overly Islamic appearance of the book, and ordered the Turkish illuminator to introduce motifs from local tradition. This is what he did, painting the frame of the final, fourth chapter probably according to a model. At the very end of the work, the portraits of authors were supposed to be painted in the empty surfaces of each headpiece. This was most likely done by the scribe, Priest Vuk. Although skillful at calligraphy and partially at ornamentation, he proved highly unskilled at representing human figures. Despite this, and within his abilities, he painted the four evangelists and the Virgin in the surfaces designated for miniatures. He depicted them in a very unusual way—waist-up with closed books, as had been done in icon or wall painting, but seldom in author portraits—definitely because he had insufficient space. This is why we can only conditionally discuss the Islamic influence on the Serbian miniature in the case of the Four Gospels of Karan. It would be more justifiable to explain its illumination in the light of direct penetration of Islamic art into the layout of the Serbian book of early seventeenth century. This phenomenon, at least to this extent, remained a solitary example that had no organic connection to the further development of Serbian miniature. Grosso modo, it is important to note that the decorative scheme of the Serbian manuscript was not fundamentally disturbed by these two, most prominent examples. The penetration of Oriental elements was limited to purely ornamental motifs, binding decoration, and in few cases certain coloristic solutions. All the basic elements of the Serbian manuscript of the time—the general appearance of the text box, types of initial letters, form and purpose of the headpieces, and particularly, iconographic and stylistic features of figural representations, would faithfully follow long-accepted solutions throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. 224 Saša Brajović Between the Ottoman Empire and the Venetian Republic – The Bay of Kotor and the Montenegrin Coast in Early Modern and Modern Times Saša Brajović University of Belgrade The Bay of Kotor (Bocca di Cattaro, Boka Kotorska), a thirty-kilometer-long fjord lined by steep monutain slopes and consisting of four interconnected basins in the Republic of Montenegro, was divided between the Venetian Republic and the Ottoman Empire from 1482 to 1687. The north coast of the Bay, with the cities of Herceg Novi and Risan, was occupied by the Turks, while the southern part remained within the Venetian Republic, which conquered this area in the late fourteenth century. Delineation of Venetian and Turkish property in the Bay has been established along the sea line in mid-aquatorium of the Bay. This distinction marked both the collective and the individual sense of identity of the inhabitants. That identity is shaped by violence, forms of differentiation, negative generalizations, but also by the integration demanded by the life in a multi-cultural and multi-religious reality. Based on the experiences of actual protagonists, this text represents, in short, the history, perception, and self-perception of inhabitants of the Bay of Kotor and the Montenegrian coast in the early modern period. The Catholics developed a strong feeling of belonging to the Venetian Republic. Marian piety, which shaped the sacred topography of the terrain, provided the ideal network of protection from conflict of any nature.1 Orthodox population from the hinterland, who came to escape from the Turks and was drawn by the economic 1 S. Brajović, U Bogorodičinom vrtu. Bogorodica i Boka Kotorska – barokna pobožnost zapadnog hrišćanstva, Plato i Filozofski fakultet Univerziteta u Beogradu, Beograd 2006, pp. 206-211, 274. 225 Between the Ottoman Empire and the Venetian Republic prosperity of coastal towns, strove to maintain its integrity. At first highly reserved toward the “infidels”, in time Venice changed its treatment of the Orthodox population and gradually introduced full freedom to them in the Bay.2 Christians were partly united by “fear of the Turks”, a phenomenon that spread through a large part of Europe as one of the most significant factors of identity of the Bay of Kotor.3 Yet, the presence of the Turks gave rise not only to fear of assault but also to naval competition, especially in pirating, and thus also to the development of maritime economy. Boundaries between Christians and Muslims had an ambiguous character, which under those circumstances promoted social and cultural interaction that is documented in municipal and ecclesiastical archives.4 Traces of economic, social, and cultural intertwining are found in all the cities of the Bay of Kotor. Herceg Novi, which was founded by the Bosnian king Tvrtko I Kotromanić in 1382, was an important port situated between the competing Kotor and Dubrovnik. The city was conquered by the Turks in 1482. The Spanish fleet, led by the admiral Andrea Doria, took the city in 1538, but after only nine months the Turkish admiral Hajrudin Barbarossa put an end to Spanish possession of Herceg Novi.5 In the time of the Turks, the city was a military base and a nest of Turkish pirates. In 1664, Herceg Novi has visited by Evlija Chelebi, an educated efendi, chronicler, and writer. In the fifth book of his travelogue he writes about his stay in Herceg Novi. He says that most of the inhabitants of the city are the heroes who wear tight clothing like Algerians and walk around bare shinned, and all, both big and small, carry guns and handle weapons. “They board their frigates instantly and charge against the Montenegrins and rob the Apulian coast and Sicily”.6 Despite this description of the inhabitants of Herceg Novi as a kind of savages (this type of description is similar to those recorded by Venetians about inhabitants of Catholic Perast, which is a typical form of the image of the Other – even when that other is of the same religion)—documents and material remains testify about huge 2 P. Butorac, Kulturna povijest grada Perasta, Perast 1999, pp. 223, 239. 3 V. Gligo, Govori protiv Turaka, Split 1983. 4 M. Milošević, Pomorski trgovci, ratnici i mecene. Studije o Boki Kotorskoj XV-XIX stoljeća, V. Đokić (ed.), Beograd-Podgorica 2003, pp. 71-94. 5 P. D. Šerović, “Borbe s Turcima oko Hercegnovog do njegovog konačnog oslobođenja g. 1687”, Godišnjak Pomorskog muzeja u Kotoru 4 (1956), pp. 8-10. 6 E. Čelebi, Putopis. Odlomci o jugoslavenskim zemljama, H. Šabanović ed., Sarajevo 1967, 428-434 226 Saša Brajović cultural and, especially, architectural activities of the Turks from Herceg Novi. The most impressive among the buildings is Spanjola fortress, on the extremely important strategic position covering the entrance to the Bay. It was built by the Spaniards and hence its popular name (in the documents it appears as fortezza superiore as we can see it on the Coronelli and Mortier maps). But, it was expanded by the Turks, as its inscription testifies—the fortress was built by the sultan’s orders by Suleiman, the son of the great emir Sulejman Han.7 In scholarship, until recently, there was almost a kind of amnesia about the mosques of Herceg Novi and Risan. But in the territory of the northern part of the Bay there were nine mosques. We do not know the exact locations of most of them as well as those of medressas, tekis, bezistans, and shedrvans which, according to the documents, existed.8 Muslim Herceg Novi experienced a kind of urbicide in the Morean war at the end of the seventeenth century. Girolamo Corner, admiral of the Venetian republic, took the city after weeks of siege and battle. The siege of the city is partly visible as part of the votive image of Girolamo Corner and on old maps.9 The Venetian Republic organized a kind of damnatio memoriae of the Turks in the city. The archbishop of Bar, Andrija Zmajević, as the spiritual leader of Boka’s warriors served Mass and gave a sermon in the largest mosque of Herceg Novi. So, the mosque became the church of Saint Jerome.10 Later, because of landslides the church had to be demolished, and a new church was built in 1856. The foundation of the mosque can be seen only as a ground plan between the tower and the present church. Other mosques were destroyed or rearranged on the same occasion. The Turks were expelled, and their land was occupied by citizens of Perast and hajduks, as irregular Venetian troops. 7 On Spanjola, see T. Поповић, Херцег Нови, Дубровник 1924, pp. 29-31. Coronelli and Mortier’s maps can be seen in 12 vjekova Bokeljske mornarice, Beograd 1972, pp. 40, 117, 124, 133, 150-151. 8 B. Agović, Džamije u Crnoj Gori, Podgorica 2001, 239-253. 9 On the votive image, see N. Luković, Zvijezda mora. Štovanje Majke Božje u kotorskoj biskupiji sa historijskim podacima, Perast 2000 (Kotor 1931), p.17. 10 P. Butorac, Zmajevići, Zagreb 1928, pp. 3-4; М. Пантић, Књижевност на тлу Црне Горе и Боке Которске од XVI до XVIII veka, Београд 1990, p. 141; S. Brajović, “Andrija Zmajević, barski nadbiskup i pokrovitelj umjetnosti”, in Umjetnost i naručitelji, J. Gudelj ed., Institut za povijest umjetnosti i odsjek za povijest umjetnosti Filozofskog fakulteta Sveučilišta u Zagrebu, Zagreb 2010, pp. 127-148; B. Agović, Džamije u Crnoj Gori, 244. 227 Between the Ottoman Empire and the Venetian Republic It was the same in the city of Risan. The traces of Turkish culture remained, but there are no signs of the mosques, gunpowder storage, and han. Risan, as a border location, flourished during Ottoman rule. According to the documents, Orthodox people freely traded in the city.11 Documents record that the most active traders in Risan and Herceg Novi were Jews.12 Grain trade was almost entirely in their hands. It is known that only during the time of Dželal Hasan pasha in 1602 did they suffer, because the ruler of Herceg Novi was prone to violence. Soon the Porta reacted and condemned the offender to death after his negotiations with Venice on the sale of Herceg Novi. That the Sephardic community was significant and substantial is attested to by the fact that in the city of Herceg Novi was a Jewish cemetery.13 The cemetery was marked on the map as Sepoltura de Ebrei, near the sea coast. The cemetery sank into the sea during the big earthquake in 1667. The available documents do not mention the existence of a synagogue, but it can be assumed that it existed. In 1599, buried in that cemetery was Isaiah Cohen, a Sephardi from Portugal, physician, doctor and poet, known as Flavius Eborensis (Didacus Pirus). He wrote a book of poems De exilio suo on his exhile from Portugal, Constantinople, Italy, Dubrovnik, and Herceg Novi.14 Documents verifying the existence of Jews in the medieval city of Kotor are known,15 but their fate from the Renaissance and Baroque periods remains unknown. We can assume that they did participate in the rich commercial and cultural life of the ancient city. We can also conclude that, like their compatriots in other areas of the 11 On trade in Turkish Herceg Novi, see M. Milošević, Pomorski trgovci, ratnici i mecene, pp. 71-95. 12 S. Ljubić, “Commissiones et relationes Venetae II”, JAZU MSHSM 6, 8, Zagreb 1876/77, p. 244; P. Butorac, Kulturna povijest grada Perasta, p. 29. 13 T. Поповић, Херцег Нови, pp. 43-44. 14 Đ. Körbler, “Život i rad humanista Didaka Pira Portugalca, napose u Dubrovniku”, Rad JAZU, Zagreb 1917, pp. 1-169; B. Vodnik, Povijest hrvatske književnosti I, Zagreb 1913, p. 181; D. Novaković, “Didacus Pyrrhus as lusor amorum: unpublished love-elegies from the manuscript D. a. 29 in the Historical Institute of Croatian Academy of Arts and Sciences in Dubrovnik”, Euphrosyne XXVI (1998), pp. 399-408. 15 D. Sindik, “Jevreji u srednjovekovnom Kotoru”, Zbornik JIM, knj. 7, Beograd 1997. 228 Saša Brajović Venice commonwealth, they lived according to prescribed rules, which were often violated in practice.16 The city of Kotor lay deep in Turkish territory—the area between Kotor and Venetian city of Budva, called Grbalj, was the part of the Ottoman Empire—in the “jaws of the lion” as old documents say. Both Venice and Turkey were well aware of the fact that whoever controlled the Bay also had possession of a safe haven for his fleet, bountiful food, and human resources for the army. So, the Turks orchestrated occasional assaults on the city, and Venice occasionally invested into building city walls. Kotor was populated by people of various religious confessions: Catholics were the majority, then the Orthodox, while a number of Protestants were to be found among the guardians of its walls.17 The city of Perast has enjoyed the status of heroic guardian of the Venetian part of the Bay of Kotor. Baroque historiographers celebrated this area as the crucial segment of the circle of European civilization where Christianity was defended from Islam, a veritable regnum Mariae. Perast was a center for the gathering of hajduks, piracy, and the selling of slaves.18 The city benefited from grain trade with Albania. Many documents prove intensive communication between Perast and both Risan and Herceg Novi, not only conflicts. They exchanged goods as well as mutual bribes in order not to attack ships. Relations between the Turkish cities and Perast varied, depending upon the political and economic situation. Sometimes they relied on personal relationships. Municipal documents testify to one affair that largely determined the destiny of Perast. Vicko Bujović, who in the name merits earned in war won the title of conte and a palace from Venice, kidnapped a Turkish girl from Captain Krsto Zmajević. Zmajević had bought the girl as a slave, baptized her, and named her Jelena (from the documents we know that Turkish girls commanded a high price on the market). There are documents, however, that testify that Jelena had fled willingly with Vicko Bujović to Dubrovnik. They married in Bujović’s house in Perast 1703, before witnesses (one 16 My research into Jewish culture in modern times in the Bay of Kotor has recently begun. I shall devote more attention to this subject in the future, so I hope that I shall be able to write more about Jewish life and culture in this area. 17 About Kotor in early modern times, see M. Milošević, Pomorski trgovci, ratnici i mecene, pp. 135-291. 18 Г. Станојевић, “Грађа за историју Пераста”, Споменик САН CV, Београд 1956, pp. 53- 66. 229 Between the Ottoman Empire and the Venetian Republic of them was Tripo Kokolja, the painter of the church of Our Lady of the Reef).19 There is a legend that Jelena’s face was the model for Shulamite from Song of songs. Seemingly because of the “abduction”, but actually because of the Bujović’s economic power, he was killed. The leader of the conspiracy against Bujović was the brother of the Archbishop of Bar, Matija Zmajević, later a famous admiral in the Russian fleet, and the direct trigger was the judge Štukanović. Representatives of these noble and rich families had to leave the town, sparking a major crisis in the city. The economic crisis deepened extensively in mid-eighteenth century, again because of a ‘personal’ affair. The wife of a certain captain from Perast was hijacked by pirates from the city of Ulcinj. Despite the ban of Venice, which did not want the affair to become a casus belli with Turkey, Perast attacked Ulcinj to free the woman from the harem. As a punishment, the Republic took away its privileges from Perast.20 The rise of economic growth of Prčanj and Dobrota occurred because trade concessions with the Albanian coast moved from Perast into their hands. The most intense intertwining of cultures, but also a tragic erasing of the memory of the Other, is found in the city of Bar, on the south of the Montenegrian coast. Bar, the center of the bishopric from the eighth and the archbishopric from the eleventh century, was a strong economic and cultural center of the medieval state of Zeta and the Serbian Nemanjić’e state, a link between the hinterland and overseas elements. In 1443 Bar was conquered by the Venetians and in 1571 by the Turks.21 After the Congress of Berlin in 1878, at which time it attained the status of a state, Montenegro won the city. Then the city was nearly destroyed in an explosion of gunpowder caused by the Montenegrin army (see below). Old Bar, surrounded by walls, had a vast number of churches. Most prominent among them was the cathedral of St. George, a thirteenth-century three-aisled basilica, 19 M. Milošević, Pomorski trgovci, ratnici i mecene, pp. 313-346. 20 P. Butorac, “Grilova afera 1747”, u: Kotor i Boka Kotorska, prelistak iz Nove Evrope, Zagreb 1934. 21 M. Šufflay, Städte und Burgen Albaniens hauptsächlich während des Mittelalters, Wien und Leipzig 1924; Г. Станојевић, “Услови примања млетачке власти града Бара 1443”, Историjски часопис 76 (1956), pp. 207-213; И. Божић, Немирно Поморје XV века, Beograd 1979; S. Ćirković, B. Hrabak, N. Damjanović, Đ. Vujović, L. Živković, Bar. Grad pod Rumijom, Bar 1984; T. Bošković, Bar pod mletačkom vlašću (1443-1571), Bijelo Polje 2004. 230 Saša Brajović built on the foundations of a ninth-century church.22 Holy places attract population with their energy and memory. So, the Turks converted that church into Ahmed beg’s mosque (called Londža). The Montenegrin army turned the mosque into a gunpowder storage site, which was completely destroyed in the explosion of 1881. It was the same with the church of St. Nicholas, which was raised in 1288 by Queen Jelena, wife of the Serbian king Uroš I. The church, which belonged to the Franciscan order, was converted into a mosque. The mosque was demolished in an explosion of gunpowder. The same fate befell the church of Saint Mark, adapted into the mosque of Sultan Murat III, which was destroyed in an explosion. The war of liberation ruined many mosques in Bar: Sultan Selim’s (built in 1571-74), Derviš Hasan (built in 1714), Škanjevića mosque (built in mid-eighteenth century) with its minaret restored in 2006, Pazarska mosque, and more. The only one preserved is Omer-bašića mosque, with a fountain and the turbe of the Šejh Hasa, built in 1612, on site of the grave of one of the most famous Muslim missionaries in the area, which was a sacred place of great power.23 In Bar we can see how the Turks were great builders and city planners. In the seventeenth century they built a large bath (amam) using water coming from the Rumija Mountain through a viaduct on the north side of town. The aqueduct, a great architectural undertaking, was destroyed by an earthquake in 1979, but has been renovated and continues to serve its primary purpose. The Turks built the tower clock, gunpowder storage, and the bazar—the trade zone and cross-cultural heart of the city, with its ambiental physiognomy shaped by centuries. Very intense intertwining of cultures is also found in the port of Ulcinj, which was part of the Ottoman Empire from 1571 until the 1878. The most famous resident of the city was Sabbatai Zevi, Sephardi rabbi and kabbalist, who claimed to be the long-awaited Jewish Messiah. Historians seem to agree that in 1673 he was exiled by the Turkish sultan from Constantinople to Ulcinj, where he died, according to some accounts, on September 17, 1676. The tomb of Sabbatai Zevi may be there, although another theory that claims that he died in Berat, Albania.24 22 Ђ. Бошковић, Стари Бар, Београд 1962; П. Мијовић, Вирпазар – Бар – Улцињ, Цетиње – Београд 1979, pp. 11-57. 23 About mosques in Bar, see B. Agović, Džamije u Crnoj Gori, pp. 191-224. 24 Gershom Gerhard Scholem, Sabbatai Sevi: The Mystical Messiah, 1626-1676, Princeton 1973, p. 921; Paul Fenton, “The tomb of the Messiah of Ishmael” [in Hebrew], Pe‘amim 25 (1985), pp. 13-39. 231 Between the Ottoman Empire and the Venetian Republic In Ulcinj, a living legend relates that Miguel Cervantes lived there as a prisoner for five years. Apparently, the name of Don Quixote’s love, Dulcinea, is inspired by the name of the city, Dulcinjo. According to legend, after the Battle of Lepanto in 1571, the famous writer had somehow passed into the hands of an Ulcinj pirate, Unuč Halija. Scholars claim that Cervantes served in the Spanish fleet, was wounded at the Battle of Lepanto, and captured by Algerian pirates. However, Ulcinj’s legend was created as the manifestation of a cross spinning of stories about Ulcinj and Algerian pirates, often allies in fighting and looting. Its construction is common and attests to the interfusion of the Mediterranean world, regardless of religion. Over centuries, popular piety united people of different religions. Orthodox, Catholics and Muslims from that region, where olives are grown, made a pilgrimage to the Church of Saint Nicholas in the nearby village of Zupci, because of the miracle- working figure of St. Nicholas, made out of olive wood, which probably dates to the sixteenth century. The neighboring monastery of Ratac, built in the eleventh century by the Benedictines, became the most prominent focus of pilgrimage in the wider area thanks to its miracle-working icon of the Virgin and its famous fair which united Catholics, Orthodox, and Muslims.25 In this paper I wanted to point out one possible way of studying, understanding, and arranging the problems related to different cultures, confessions, faith, and their intertwining on the Montenegrin Adriatic coast. The great effort needed to uncover and determine the facts about the life, identity, culture, and visual culture of non- Christians awaits the historians, art historians, and archaeologists. 25 M. Šufflay, Srbi i Arbanasi. Njihova simbioza u srednjem vijeku, Sarajevo 1990 (Beograd 1925), p. 103. 232 Nenad Makuljević The Trade Zone as Cross-Cultural Space: Belgrade Çarşi Nenad Makuljević Department of Art History, Faculty of Philosophy, University of Belgrade The creation of the Ottoman Balkan culture was a very complex process involving the state, society, religion, local traditions, and trade.1 One of the main characteristics of Balkan culture is its multicultural nature. Along with the predominantly Ottoman state and religious cultural model, the meeting and crossing of cultures also played an important role. The models of everyday life as well as the material and religious culture were commonly exchanged and melded throughout the Balkans. A significant part of this process was the places that allowed the meeting and crossing of cultures. In addition to private spaces and private communication, the role of the public spaces and activities, which were not limited by the religious and ethnic barriers, was essential. The most important activity enabling different cultures to meet and interconnect within the Ottoman Empire was trade. One of the examples attesting to that fact can be found in nineteenth-century Belgrade, where the trade and the market spaces allowed for the creation of communal cultural models. 1 See Jovan Cvijić, Balkansko poluostrvo, Beograd 1987; Leften Stavros Stavrianos, The Balkans since 1453, New York 2002; Traian Stoianovich, Balkan Worlds: the First and Last Europe, New York 1994; Suraiya Faroqhi, The Ottoman Empire and the World Around It, London-New York 2004; Markus Koller and Kemal H. Karpat (eds.), Ottoman Bosnia: A History in Peril, The University of Wisconsin Press, Madison, WI 2004; Aleksandar Fotić, “Izmedju zakona i njegove primene”, in Aleksandar Fotić (ed.), Privatni život kod Srba u osvit novog doba, Beograd 2005, pp. 27-71; Suraiya Faroqhi (ed.), The Cambridge History of Turkey, vol. 3, The Later Ottoman Empire, 1603-1839, Cambridge 2006; Nenad Makuljević, “Pluralizam privatnosti: kulturni modeli i privatni život kod Srba u 19. veku”, in Ana Stolić and Nenad Makuljević (eds.), Privatni život kod Srba u devetnaestom veku, Beograd 2006, pp. 22-29. 233 The Trade Zone as Cross-Cultural Space: Belgrade Çarşi The Multicultural Nature of the Trades and Crafts in Belgrade Trade and crafts, which were important for creation of common cultural patterns, had a prominent role on the Ottoman Balkans. Balkan trade was very well developed. Places like Thessaloniki, Skopje, Niš, Vidin, Belgrade, Sarajevo, and Mostar became trade centers, and tradesmen were connected, regardless of religious or ethnic differences. Therefore, places of trade, crafts, and other services were not only sites where particular goods were distributed, but also centers of distribution of common cultural patterns, and Balkan tradesmen, as it has already been ascertained, were at the same time renowned members of the Ottoman society. 2 The trading connections also had a huge effect on the transfer of the ideals concerning the private and public culture throughout the Balkans. The merchants of various religions used to travel within the wide space between Istanbul and the Adriatic Sea,3 as well as between Thessaloniki and the Habsburg Monarchy border, and beyond. 4 This led to the equalization of the cultural ideals of the merchants throughout the Balkans. In the history of Belgrade at the time of the Ottoman rule, from the fifteenth up to the nineteenth century, trade took a prominent place. The geographical position of Belgrade, on the banks of the Danube and on the Ottoman and Habsburg border, as well as its administrative importance, set favorable conditions for various trades. From the sixteenth to the nineteenth centuries, leading protagonists of Balkan trade took part in the trading business in Belgrade. These were Ottomans, Ragusians traders from Dubrovnik), Greeks, Tzintzars, Armenians, Jews, Serbs, and other Balkan peoples. 5 The multiconfessional and multiethnic structure of the Belgrade trading business was a product of both Ottoman tolerance and the legal acts of that time. 2 Traian Stoianovich, Between East and West: The Balkan and Mediterranean Worlds, vol. 2, Economies and Societies: Traders. Towns and Households, New Rochelle 1992, pp. 1-77. 3 Suraiya Faroqhi, “Bosnian Merchants in the Adriatic”, in Koller and Karpat (eds.), Ottoman Bosnia (Note 1), pp. 225-239. 4 Slavko Gavrilović, Prilog istoriji trgovine i migracije Balkan- Podunavlje XVIII i XIX stoleća, Beograd 1969; Slavko Gavrilović, Ivan Jakšić, and Sreta Pecinjački (eds.), Gradja o balkanskim trgovcima u Ugarskoj XVIII I XIX veka, Beograd 1985. 5 Radovan Samardžić, “Beograd u medjunarodnoj trgovini XVI i XVII veka”, in Vasa Čubrilović (ed.), Istorija Beograda 1, Beograd 1974, pp. 359-375; Vasa Čubrilović, “Razvoj privrede 1740-1788”, in Vasa Čubrilović (ed.), Istorija Beograda 1, Beograd 1974, pp. 690-692. 234 Nenad Makuljević As stated by Stojan Novaković, trade was free according to the 1793 Sultan’s edict (Hatisherif).6 Testimonies of the protagonists of Belgrade commercial life were found in numerous documents from Belgrade Court archives and administration from the first decades of the nineteenth century.7 Similarly, a number of memoirs often mention merchants and craftsmen from different religious communities. Mixed collaboration and communication among tradesmen and craftsmen from different communities was not completely interrupted even during fierce war clashes. Thus, at the time of the First Serbian Uprising, from 1806 to 1813, it was often stated that a large number of Ottomans were banished and murdered, but certain merchants and craftsmen managed to stay. Lazar Arsenijević Batalaka points out that initially an important part of trade was managed by the Jews since Serbs were busy with the war.8 Maksim Evgenović provides an example illustrating the crafts and trade in Belgrade. During the First Serbian Uprising, he first started learning the tailoring craft from a Sephardi Jew in Belgrade, who also thought him Spanish. After that Evgenović moved on to became an apprentice of a convert Turk, where he also learned to speak Turkish. Later on, while changing occupations, he trades, collaborates, and establishes friendly connections with Belgrade Turks.9 The case of Maksim Evgenović is a good example of how the trade and everyday communication used to be carried out among the population of Belgrade. Religion was not a limiting factor in the making of business arrangements. A particularly important period in the history of Belgrade trade and crafts was the period between 1815 and 1867, when Belgrade was under both Serbian and Ottoman jurisdiction and when this twofold government created all aspects of the cultural life.10 Thanks to the specific legal position they had, the co-existence of the Ottoman and the Serbian governments was a contributing factor in the development of the Belgrade’s multicultural character. A good illustration of this was presented by an English traveler, Andrew Archibald Paton, in his description of the convergence point 6 Stojan Novaković, Vaskrs države srpske: političko-istorijska studija o Prvom srpskom ustanku 1804-1813, Arandjelovac-Beograd 2002, pp. 24-25. 7 Branko Peruničić, Beogradski sud: 1819-1839, Beograd 1964; Branko Peruničić, Uprava varoši Beograda: 1820-1912, Beograd 1970. 8 Lazar Arsenijević Batalaka, Istorija srpskog ustanka I, Beograd 1979, p. 253. 9 Maksim Evgenović, Životopis, Budimpešta 1877, pp. 9-10; 19-20, 31-33. 10 On Ottoman-Serbian Belgrade 1815-1867, see Vasa Čubrilović (ed.), Istorija Beograda 2, Beograd 1974. 235 The Trade Zone as Cross-Cultural Space: Belgrade Çarşi of the Serbian and the Ottoman parts of the city: “In the centre of the town is an open square, which forms a sort of line of demarcation between the crescent and the cross. On the one side, several large and good houses have been constructed by the wealthiest senators, in the German manner, with flaring new white walls and bright green shutter-blinds. On the other side is a mosque, and dead old garden walls, with walnut trees and Levantine roofs peeping up behind them”.11 In the period between 1815 and 1864, trade was one of the most important economic activities. The dual, Ottoman and Serbian, government in Belgrade was very beneficial to the development of the economic and commercial çarşi. This is attested to by Nićifor Ninković, who clearly states that in such complex conditions neither the Serbs nor the Ottomans were any position to “pressure” the merchants and craftsmen, allowing them to continue working unhindered.12 Ninković also brings a precise image of the ethnic structure of the Belgrade’s economy during the first decades of the nineteenth century. He points out that the first among the Belgrade’s barbers was an Armenian, while also mentioning the great solidarity of the Tzintzar merchants.13 What contributed to the specific multicultural character of Belgrade trade was its geographical position. Belgrade was a city on the border between the Ottoman Empire and the Habsburg Monarchy. An important part of the trade between the two countries was done through Belgrade, which caused it to become an important location for the transit of various types of goods. The Belgrade trade was characterized not only by the land routes but also the trading routes which went over the Sava and Danube Rivers. The goods from Bosnia were delivered by the Sava, while the Danube allowed communication and trading in the area from Vienna to Vidin. The specificity of the trade in Belgrade was also influenced by the intense over-the-border collaboration with neighboring Zemun in the Habsburg Monarchy. Strong communication, as well as the most varied trading, existed between Zemun and Belgrade for centuries. The customs houses in these two cities were extremely busy throughout the eighteenth and the nineteenth centuries, which is evidenced in the numerous archived sources.14 11 Andrew Archibald Paton, Servia, Youngest Member of the European Family: or, a Residence in Belgrade and Travels in the Highlands and Woodlands of the Interior during the years 1843 and 1844, London 1845, p. 49. 12 Nićifor Ninković, Žizni opisanija moja, Nolit, Beograd 1986. 13 Ninković, Žizniopisanija moja (Note 12), pp. 91-92. 14 Gavrilović, Jakšić, and Pecinjački (eds.), Gradja o balkanskim trgovcima (Note 4). 236 Nenad Makuljević A report on the trading business from 1832 states that Belgrade was supplied with goods from Constantinople, Thessaloniki, Serres, Trieste and Dubrovnik, the Habsburg Monarchy, Hamburg and Leipzig.15 Descriptions of the goods show that, among others, Belgrade was supplied with Czech porcelain and glass, with wrought iron objects from Graz, colonial goods from Trieste, silk and cotton products from Tzarigrad, oil and olives from Epirus, salt, salted fish and brandy from Vallachia and Bulgaria. The traded items from different countries of origin listed here, from the Ottoman Empire and European states, contributed to the formation of the cultural identity of the citizens of Belgrade—from their clothes to the nutritional culture. At the same time, they clearly showed that trade helped overcoming the borders and enabled a cross-cultural process. Zerek: The Belgrade Trades and Crafts Çarşi Places of trade were concentrated around çarşis. Çarşi was a characteristic feature of Ottoman Balkan towns.16 It was a place of trade and cultural exchange, an intercultural place where contact between different religious and ethnic groups was enabled. In the urbanistic sense, çarşis represented the important locations, which were the common meeting points for people from different parts of the city—from different mahalas. They were created as the places of merchant-and-craft economy, which determined the domination of economic and financial relations. But at the same time, a çarşi was also a social place—a juncture and a source of different information about the current events in the city or state. Therefore, the market area was the main place for the crossing of cultures and creation of common culture in the Ottoman Balkans. Belgrade çarşi is an example showing culture-crossing processes. It will be analyzed bearing in mind the description of what it looked like in the nineteenth century and through identification of its ethnic and social structure, position in the urban tissue of the city, and testimony of creation and usage of unique cultural patterns. It is also important to note that market çarşi was not the only place of contact of members of different religious and national communities in Belgrade, but other places, such as the Velika pijaca (Great Market), the harbor on the Sava River, Kalemegdan Park and city 15 Peruničić, Uprava varoši Beograda (Note 7), pp. 81-83. 16 Vladimir Macura, Čaršija i gradski centar: razvoj središta varoši i grada Srbije XIX i prve polovine XX veka, Niš-Kragujevac 1984. 237 The Trade Zone as Cross-Cultural Space: Belgrade Çarşi fountains, were both meeting points and places of conflict. This is why market çarşi should be considered not only as an actual place, but also as a paradigm of cultural interface in Belgrade, because the entire city used to be a single, specific zone of commerce. The multiethnicity and multiconfessionality of Belgrade trade and craft were spatially defined, as well. During the Ottoman rule, up to the second half of the nineteenth century, Belgrade was a typical Ottoman military border town.17 The military fortress on the Danube crag was surrounded by the town (varoş), which used to be encompassed by a wooden fence. The Ottoman part of Belgrade was, therefore, clearly enclosed within a fence, which separated it from the surrounding area with the predominantly Serbian village inhabitants. The inhabitants lived in mahalas, and up to the nineteenth century the majority were Muslims. Therefore, Belgrade was dominated by Islamic religious constructions; so, for example, at the beginning of the nineteenth century there were as many as fourteen mosques.18 There was one church for Orthodox Christian inhabitants,19 whereas Sephardic Jews inhabited Jalija, where they had a synagogue.20 Places of trade in Belgrade moved at the time of the Ottoman rule. The main marketplace in the seventeenth century was in Donja çarşi, in the vicinity of today’s Cara Dusana Street.21 There were also bezistans, domed marketplaces. Christian çarşi was isolated around the church of St. Archangel Michael. Changes in political relations, war conquests, and demolitions of Belgrade brought about some changes in both urban structure and the position of the çarşi. What had been the most important place of trade was gradually marginalized, and a new central çarşi was formed at the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth centuries. The new main trade street–çarşi connected different religious communities and stretched along the line from the Serbian varoş. Branislav Nušić divided this street into three parts, the first one from the Saborna Church to today’s Kralja Petra Street; 17 Divna Djurić-Zamolo, Beograd kao orijentalna varoš pod Turcima 1521-1867. Arhitektonsko-urbanistička studija, Beograd 1977. 18 Vuk Stefanović Karadžić, “Geografičesko-statičesko opisanije Srbije”, Danica, zabavnik za godinu 1827 (1827), pp. 42-43. 19 Branko Vujović, Saborna crkva u Beogradu, Beograd 1996. 20 Ženi Lebl, Do “konačnog rešenja”: Jevreji u Beogradu 1521-1942, Beograd 2001, pp. 226-228. 21 Djurić-Zamolo, Beograd (Note 17), pp. 188-189; 192-193; 196-198; 209. 238 Nenad Makuljević the second, central and the main part Zerek; and the third one in Dorćol.22 Zerek was the central part of this trade zone, whose surrounding areas were mostly inhabited by Muslims until mid nineteenth century. There was also the Zerek Mosque, today better known as the Barjakli Mosque.23 The location of the çarşi clearly shows that it was formed as a point of contact and connection of various communities. This is also clearly seen from its urban position and significance. This was the longest street in Belgrade, enabling a more dynamic town communication. Judging by the analyses of the existent Belgrade urban plans, it was formed through connection of different city mahalas, which would imply that it emerged primarily due to the needs of tradesmen and townspeople. The urban position of the çarşi indicates that it was a meeting point of different cultures, a common street used by inhabitants of various mahalas. This is what travelogues also mention, noticing not only the diversity of inhabitants in the street, but also domination of certain groups in some parts of the street. The multiconfessional and multiethnic appearance of the çarşi was described by a number of travel writers. Joakim Vujić describes the entire çarşi as very rich, with numerous merchant and craft shops, which used to sell both European and Eastern goods.24 The German travel writer Otto Dubislav von Pirch wrote in 1829, “As for the town … it is just a row of low wooden shops with roofs made of shingle, protruding in the front. Another low floor above the roof is rarely seen. Serbian, Greek and Turkish tradesmen sit in these shops next to each other, there you can see beautiful English and Turkish fabrics, goods of all kinds, everything very tastefully spread and arranged in the small and dark space. Apart from the tradesmen, in those similar shops there are also craftsmen, they are inside or sitting on the wide stair. Baker, grocer, sellers of roasted meat and fish have brought their goods onto the shop door and they cook ... Only café owners and barbers work indoors ...”.25 The çarşi had not changed much three decades later, when it was visited by Felix Kanitz, whom these shops reminded of Turkish Bazaars.26 22 Branislav Nušić, Stari Beograd, Beograd 1984, pp. 12-20. 23 Djurić-Zamolo, Beograd (Note 17), pp. 23-25. 24 Јoakim Vujić, Putešestvije po Serbiji, knj. 1, Beograd 1901, p. 27. 25 Otto von Pirch, Reise in Serbien im Spaetherbst 1829, Erster Theil, Berlin 1830, pp. 72-73. 26 Felix Kanitz, Serbien. Historisch-ethnographische Reisestudien aus den Jahren 1859- 1868, Leipzig 1868, p. 446. 239 The Trade Zone as Cross-Cultural Space: Belgrade Çarşi The presence of shop owners, tradesmen, and craftsmen of different nationalities in Zerek can also been seen in well-known archives. The craftsmen used to be an integral part of every Ottoman çarşi, and they were traditionally organized into guilds.27 Sometimes, the members of specific religions used to dominate certain crafts. Vuk Karadžić wrote about the differentiation and domination of the Turks within certain guilds: “[T]hey also have noble crafts, which only Turks can practice, for example, a Serb cannot be a farrier (who fashions horse shoes), a tabak (Bärber), a saddler (Riemer), nor a kazaz (gombar), and a barber or a shoemaker with great difficulty. In addition to these crafts that are not free for all to learn, there is also tailoring, weapon- making, sliver-smithing, and bakery (bread-making); while neither of these can be a leather-worker”.28 But it is plain from the known nineteenth century documents that the guilds in Belgrade were represented not only by individual religions, but were also multiconfessional. The political changes and strengthening of the Serbian state were certainly a contributing factor in the increased liberties and the unified organization of craftsmen of different religions. Therefore, in the income tax lists of the Belgrade’s guilds in the 1860s, it can be seen that both the Christians and the Jews used to work within the same guilds.29 The multiethnicity can clearly be perceived in the detailed register of Belgrade coffee shops from 1860. This is where one can review the structure of the owners and the arrangement within the town. Zerek was characterized by the greatest diversity of café owners. There were, among other, coffee shops owned by the Jewish brothers Ozerovic and Haim Davidovic; by a Turk, Jahail Karaoglan; and Ottoman administration, by a Tzintzar, Nića Kiki; and a Serb, Marija Maca (Živko Petrović’s widow).30 The religion of the coffeehouse owners in Belgrade did not determine the religious structure of their patrons. The coffeehouses represented a very important place in the cultural life of the Ottoman Empire, where the culture of conversation, coffee drinking, and food were cherished.31 But the Belgrade coffeehouses used 27 Suraiya Faroqhi, Artisans of Empire: Crafts and Craftspeople Under the Ottomans, London-New York I.B. Tauris, 2009. 28 Vuk Stefanović Karadžić, Opisanije Srbije, Beograd 1989, pp. 14-15. 29 Peruničić, Uprava varoši Beograda (Note 7), p. 443. 30 Peruničić, Uprava varoši Beograda (Note 7), p. 417. 31 Ekrem Işin, “Cofeehouses as places of conversation”, in Suraiya Faroqhi and Christoph K. Neumann (eds.), The illuminated Table, the Prosperous House: Food and Shelter in Ottoman Material Culture, Würzburg 2003, pp. 199-208. 240 Nenad Makuljević to serve alcohol, as well, which led to frequent confrontations between Serbs and Ottomans. The atmosphere in the Belgrade market çarşi is well illustrated in the drawings of Anastas Jovanović and Felix Kanitz. In Jovanović’s drawing one can see a typically Ottoman market street with street vendors, characteristic architecture, and the urban landscape with a mosque.32 A very similar atmosphere is also presented by Felix Kanitz. In his book Das Königreich Serbien und das Serbenvolk, there are pictures of two scenes from the market çarşi.33 In one, there is a Turkish merchant smoking a chibouk in front of his store in a busy street, while the other represents a scene from a weapons store. Kanitz writes that selling and browsing through weapons is the favorite kind of male trade in Belgrade,34 and therefore his drawing undoubtedly illustrates a characteristic city scene. Along with Zerek, for the purpose of trade, there were also hans (roadhouses), where goods were brought. The owners and users of these hans were members of various religions. The hans were usually named after their owners, so we have Daut’s han, Topal-Nasko’s han, Davičo’s han, and Krstić’s han. Some hans were named after the ethnicity of their owners, such as Tzintzar han or Turkish han. The hans used to be located close to the çarşi, because their existence was closely connected to trade. This is why the hans used to be a very important place for meetings and conversation. For the merchants who came to Belgrade, this is where they would perform a part of their buying and selling activities, exchange money, as well as personal experiences, but they would also bring news from different parts of the Ottoman Empire.35 As time passed by, the hans providing these services turned into hotels, and the owners of these hotels were Turks and the Serbian rulers Prince Mihajlo and Prince Aleksandar Obrenovic. Multiethnicity of Belgrade çarşi was largely a reflection of the ethnic and religious structure of its inhabitants. Until the mid-nineteenth century, the population of Belgrade was most diverse. For example, Pavel Apolonovič Rovinski testifies in 1868-69, that the population of city consisted of the Balkan-Orthodox and Jewish inhabitants.36 32 See Cat. No. 319: Pavle Vasić, Anastas Jovanović (1817-1899), katalog radova, Galerija Matice srpske, Novi Sad 1964, p. 61. 33 Felix Kanitz, Das Königreich Serbien und das Serbenvolk, Erster Band, Leipzig 1904, p. 41. 34 Kanitz, Serbien. Historisch-ethnographische Reisestudien (Note 26), p. 446. 35 Nušić, Stari Beograd (Note 22), p. 36. 36 Pavel Apolonovič Rovinski, Zapisi o Srbiji 1868-1869, Novi Sad 1994, p. 94. 241 The Trade Zone as Cross-Cultural Space: Belgrade Çarşi During the year 1865 there was a registration of inventory of the central part of Belgrade. It was ascertained at that time that there were 535 Serbian houses and 490 shops; 724 Turkish houses and 429 shops, 189 Jewish houses and 27 shops, and 3 Roma houses.37 The data clearly showed ethnic and religious mixture, demonstrated trading and the service industry as the main occupations of the inhabitants, and indicated that Belgrade çarşi was a place of cultural interface and crossing. In 1868, the Turks left Belgrade, and this was when the changes in the shops’ ownerships occurred. From that point on, the Zerek market was dominated by the Tzintzar/ Vlach, Serbian, and Jewish merchants, who would not change the models of trade and their shops until World War I Crossing of Cultures and the Creation of the Common Cultural Models Multiethnicity of trade, common places of contact and communication, as well as the Ottoman law provided a setting for the introduction of common cultural patterns for the inhabitants of Balkan towns.38 Whereas faith and religious life were typical for every community and provided the foundation of Muslim, Christian, or Jewish identity, the culture of conduct and costume were very similar. This was the consequence of living in such close quarters within the Ottoman cities, as well as the mutual private and public communication. Even though Ottoman laws regulated usage of color and fabric,39 they were more often than not disobeyed.40 Be that as it may, it seems that non-Muslims consistently abided only by the rule of not using green color. What attests to the creation of a unique cultural pattern in Balkan towns, including Belgrade, is perception of the Serbian writer Vuk Karadžić. Vuk Karadžić’s view of the Serbs is of great importance here. Vuk, who came from the village population, perceived Serbs primarily as peasants, whereas he considered the townsfolk as an estranged part of the Serbian people. He says that “the few Serbs living in towns 37 Peruničić, Uprava varoši Beograda,(Note 7), pp. 576-577. 38 See Nenad Makuljević, “From Ideology to Universal Principles: Art History and Visual Culture of the Balkans in the Ottoman Empire”, in Jaynie Anderson (ed.), Crossing Cultures: Conflict, Migration and Convergence, The Miegunyah Press 2009, pp. 99-101. 39 Donald Quataert, “Clothing Laws, State, and Society in the Ottoman Empire, 1720-1829”, International Journal of Middle East Studies 29 (1997), pp. 403-425. 40 Aleksandar Fotić, “Izmedju zakona i njegove primene” (Note 1), pp. 64-71. 242 Nenad Makuljević as tradesmen and repairmen (mostly skinners, dressmakers, silversmiths) are called townspeople; and as they dress like Turks and live by their customs, and during riots and wars either lock themselves in the towns with Turks or flee to Germany with money, so therefore they are not only despised by the Serbian people, but they cannot even be counted as Serbs”.41 Vuk’s radical nationalistic stance clearly testifies to a division between the town and village cultures, as well as to a common cultural model of the townspeople. The state of affairs which he recorded was by all means a consequence of many centuries of cohabitation and the dominant Ottoman cultural model in the state. Vuk’s stance that Serbs dress the same way as Turks found confirmation in Joakim Vujić’s drawings. Vujić visited Belgrade in 1826, when he precisely described and drew both the male and female costume of the Belgrade townsfolk. 42 What is evident here is the usage of the Ottoman model of costume, where the fez is a dominant element. It is particularly important that Vujić’s drawings show that even the family of the Serbian prince Obrenović at the Požarevac residence accepted the identical dress model, which was clearly different from Serbian village costume. The shared life and communication between the members of different religions and nationalities is witnessed in the diary of Anka Konstantinović, who was a member of the ruling Serbian family, the Obrenović’s. She provides evidence about the intense meetings between Serbian and Turkish women in Belgrade. The important positions in this meetings were occupied by the “first ladies” of both Serbian and Ottoman Belgrade—the Pasha’s wife and Princess Ljubica. They used to visit each other and exchange gifts, while Serbian women attended the wedding of the Pasha’s son in the Pasha’s residence.43 The common life of Serbs, Turks, and Jews in the trading town of Belgrade contributed to the exchange of experience and usage of the same cultural patterns. This is what the Austrian travel writer of Jewish origin, Sigfried Kapper, also wrote about. He recorded a young Serbian lady saying that they often socialized with Turkish women, who were particularly skilled when it came to scarf embroidery.44 41 Karadžić, Opisanije Srbije (Note 28), p. 24. 42 Vujić, Putešestvije (Note 24), pp. 38-39. 43 Radmila Gikić Petrović (ed.), Dnevnik Anke Obrenović (1836-1838), Novi Sad 2007, p. 148. 44 Siegfried Kapper, Südslavische Wanderungen, Band I, Leipzig 1853, p. 312. 243 The Trade Zone as Cross-Cultural Space: Belgrade Çarşi Kapper also recorded his encounter with Jews in Dorćol, as well as the similarities and differences of their costumes: “I suddenly noticed that the faces and the costumes around us were somehow different from the ones I’ve been seeing thus far. Almost all women and girls were dressed as Serbian ladies, but some of them were using silk scarves wrapped around small fezzes trying to cover their hair a little. Others were using golden ducats to decorate their long black braids, as if trying to put their riches on display where everybody could see. The men were dressed in long, dark gabardines, which were different than the Turkish ones, while beneath them they wore some sort of striped trousers. On their heads some black cloth caps, while others wore turbans or fezzes”.45 Kapper’s texts show that the formation and usage of common cultural models were brought about through direct contact between people belonging to different religious and ethnic communities. Every ethnic and religious community in Belgrade had its specific customs, but also elements of a collective culture. Saturday nights, which is when they would leave their houses, were observed by the Sephardi Jews. This is evidenced by Hajim S. Davičo in his description of a Saturday in Belgrade’s Jalija, “when Jews went outside with their families to Jalija, and there they ate boiled eggs and cakes, washing it all down with good rakia ... All these people were dressed in clean and colorful clothes on Saturdays; while their faces were bright from a special kind of happiness and content. The disheveled hair and the dark eye-lashes were no more covered by a greasy fez, but a new one from Stambol, dashingly crooked on the head ... In those days, the Jews were still dressing according to the eastern fashion and colors, and their beautiful figures were much more visible then, than they are today in talmas (cloak) of my fellow tribesmen”.46 In addition to costume, there were other common characteristics in everyday and festive life in Belgrade. One of these was the music. Even though there was a clear difference between the city and the rural musical styles, as well as the traditional dances of different ethnic groups, the city had always been acceptable to Ottoman music as well. Joakim Vujić writes about attending the wedding of the daughter of Hadži Nikola Konstantinoć Brzak, the Serbian commercial representative in Belgrade. On that occasion, vizier music was playing during the meal, while the singer was singing in Turkish and Albanian.47 45 Kapper, Südslavische Wanderungen (Note 44), pp. 329-330. 46 Vasa Pavković (ed.), Hajim S. Davičo, Priče sa Jalije, Beograd: 2000, pp. 19-20. 47 Vujić, Putešestvije (Note 24), p. 37. 244 Nenad Makuljević An interesting example, which speaks about the acceptance and the usage of the common cultural models in everyday life, is provided by the reports about auctions of the objects left behind by the Belgrade citizens who had passed on. An example of this is the property of Doctor Bartholomeo Kunibert, which was bought by Serbs, Muslims, and Jews in 1839.48 Moreover, also occupying a prominent place in the creation of a common culture were decisions made by the political authorities. As a town in the Ottoman Empire, Belgrade accepted and abided by the Ottoman laws. Tanzimat reforms and changes in relation to the Christians also affected the citizens of Belgrade. During 1829 there was an edict on change of costume and the obligatory wearing of a fez in the Belgrade fortress. Soon thereafter fez, as a symbol of citizen’s equality, was also accepted by Serbs, so it became one of the main distinctive features of Belgrade men’s costume. The fez also became one of the best sold products, and according to S. Kapper, an original Stambol fez was considered to be the best one.49 It is interesting that in some cases decisions related to the culture of conduct were made both by Ottoman and Serbian government. Thus, during 1841, the authorities passed a decision on general rules of conduct: cattle was to be kept off the town streets, people were obliged to remove garbage in front of houses and shops, and smoking was banned in the street, during both day and night. In these rules it was clearly stated that they referred to Serbs, Turks, and the Jews alike. If someone was to violate this decision, the Serbs and the Jews would be punished by Serbian authorities, whereas the Turks would be responsible to the Turkish ones.50 This decision was an important example of common Ottoman-Serbian work on maintenance of hygiene and public order, as well as on formulation of rules of conduct in the town. The example of Belgrade çarşi shows the importance of trading zones in the creation of common cultural identity in the Ottoman Balkans. The world of trade was an open place for members of different religious and ethnic communities, so trade of various goods also enabled a cultural transfer and the crossing of different cultures. At the same time, prominent trading towns, like Belgrade, had not only local importance but were also significant points in the cultural network of the Ottoman Balkans. 48 Miroslav Jovanović et al. (eds.), Živeti u Beogradu: 1837-1841: dokumenta uprave grada Beograda, Beograd 2003, pp. 296-298. 49 Kapper, Südslavische Wanderungen (Note 44), p. 109. 50 Peruničić, Uprava varoši Beograda (Note 7), p. 155. 245 The Trade Zone as Cross-Cultural Space: Belgrade Çarşi 246 Irena Ćirović Imaging the Forbidden: Representations of the Harem and Serbian Orientalism Irena Ćirović The Institute of History in Belgrade Unquestionable is the influence of Edward Said’s seminal work Orientalism,1 which profoundly changed perspective on Western representation of the East. In spite of all the limitations of his totalizing narrative, Said’s critical thought on a discourse in the service of European political and cultural interests, opened the possibility for further analysis and discussions. The numerous subsequent studies extended and exceeded early criticism of Orientalism, as well as of the cultural production which constructed the Orient as the “ideological fiction”. In that matter, the representations of the harem and the Islamic women became an important subject of analysis, as one of the main topoi around which Western fantasies were constructed. Woman hidden behind a veil and in the forbidden space of the harem was one of the Western obsessions, indicated among other by her overrepresentation. The numerous visual and literary works created visions of the harem, established in an iconic image which reflected Western orientalist fantasy. Primarily based on misconceptions and imagination, it was constructed with notions of sexuality, eroticism, barbarity, and submission, invested into the harems as the Westerners’ own desires. In a broader sense, the harems were represented as everything that Western culture was not, contributing to the notion of its “otherness”. Closely associated with the Orient itself, image of the harem was created as an ideologically potent cultural description, profoundly inscribed into the politic and strategy of power. 1 Edward Said, Orientalism, Routledge & Kegan Paul, London 1978. 247 Imaging the Forbidden This paper is conceived as part of such understanding of cultural and political context of harem representations, elaborated by many scholars from various fields.2 Analysis is narrowed to the harem images created in the nineteenth century Serbian cultural production. Increasingly towards the end of the century, the harem theme had started to appear within the repertoire of Serbian painters, articulated in typical European orientalist formulas. Creating in these patterns originated from the education of the artists, which, at the time, had been connected to the large European centers, where they became familiar with this established academic genre. The works of Serbian artists circulated the domestic scene side by side with the European, both through public exhibitions and reproductions in popular periodicals, gradually establishing a cultural image of the harem as a typical orientalist construction. The review of harem images in Serbian culture is intended to indicate an occurrence which was not a mere reproduction of the popular Western genre, but an embracement of the essential orientalist logic in its entirety. The aim is, therefore, to examine the appearance and the operation of orientalist discourse in Serbian culture by the analysis of harem representations. The complexity of the problem comes from the fact that it was situated basically within the alleged “Orient” itself. For a long time, Serbia itself had been a subject of the European ideological constructions of “otherness” in which 2 A host of scholars have worked on the subject, among the most relevant to the present study are: Malek Alloula, The Colonial Harem, translated by Myrna Godzich and Wlad Godzich, introduction by Barbara Harlow, University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis 1986; Rana Kabbani, Europe’s Myths of Orient: Devise and Rule, Macmillan, London 1986; Sarah Graham-Brown, Images of Women: the Portrayal of Women in Photography of the Middle East, 1860-1950, Columbia University Press, New York 1988; Linda Nochlin, The Politics of Vision: Essays on Nineteenth-Century Art and Society, Harper and Row, New York 1989, “The Imaginary Orient”, pp. 33-59; Lynne Thornton, Women as portrayed in orientalist paintings, ACR Poche Couleur, Paris 1994; Reina Lewis, Gendering Orientalism: Race, Femininity and Representation, Routledge, London 1996; Meyda Yegenoglu, Colonial Fantasies: Towards a Feminist Reading of Orientalism, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge 1998; Ruth Bernard Yeazell, Harems of the Mind: Passages of Western Art and Literature, Yale University Press, New Haven 2000; Joan DelPlato, Multiple Wives, Multiple Pleasures: Representing the Harem, 1800–1875, Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, Madison 2002; Mary Roberts, Intimate Outsiders: The Harem in Ottoman and Orientalist Art and Travel Literature, Duke University Press, Durham 2008; Joanna de Groot, “‘Sex’ and ‘Race’: The Construction of Language and Image in the Nineteenth Century”, in Susan Mendus and Jane Rendall (eds.), Sexuality and Subordination: Interdisciplinary Studies of Gender in the Nineteenth Century, London 1989. 248 Irena Ćirović the Ottoman Balkans were seen, especially during the nineteenth-century decay of the Ottoman Empire and the emergence of Balkan nation-states accompanied by wars.3 The cultural region burdened by this heritage nevertheless was an equally fertile ground for the development of the orientalist discourse after the emancipation from the Ottoman Empire.4 At the time of nation-state building of Serbia, oriented primarily to the European models, the logic of Orientalism had found a multiple function. In the ideology of an emerging nation, it represented an important complement in the construction of self-identity, at the same time widening the distance from its Ottoman heritage.5 As defined by Maria Todorova, this was the operating principle characteristic for the entire Balkan region: […] the construction of an idiosyncratic Balkan self-identity, or rather of several Balkan self-identities, constitutes a significant distinction: they were invariably erected against an ‘oriental’ other. This could be anything from a geographic neighbour and opponent (most often the Ottoman Empire and Turkey but also within the region itself as with the nesting of orientalisms in the former Yugoslavia) to the ‘orientalising’ of portions of one’s own historical past (usually the Ottoman period and the Ottoman legacy).6 3 Marija Todorova emphasized the difference between orientalism and the Western representations of the Balkans, launching the term ‘balkanism’ as an alternative: Maria Todorova, Imagining the Balkans, Oxford University Press, New York 2009. A different viewpoint is given by Milica Bakic-Hayden and Robert Hayden, who considered Western ways of viewing the Balkans as an orientalist variation: Milica Bakic-Hayden & Robert Hayden, “Orientalist Variations on the Theme ‘Balkans’: Symbolic Geography in Recent Yugoslav Cultural Politics”, Slavic Review 51, no. 1 (1992), pp. 1-15. For the subject matter, see also: Katherine E. Fleming, “Orientalism, the Balkans, and Balkan Historiography”, The American Historical Review 105, no. 4 (2000), pp. 1218-1233. 4 The image of the oriental “other” in nineteenth-century Serbian visual culture is discussed in Nenad Makuljević, “Slika drugog u srpskoj vizuelnoj kulturi XIX veka”, in Olga Manojlović Pintar (ed.), Istorija i sećanje: studija istorijske svesti, Institut za noviju istoriju Srbije, Beograd 2006, pp. 141-156. 5 Svetlana Slapšak, “Haremi, nomadi – Jelena Dimitrijević”, ProFemina: časopis za žensku književnost i kulturu 15/16 (1998), pp. 140-141. Ellie Scopetea sees the Balkans’ relation to its “Ottoman heritage” as deeply connected to its relationship to the West: Ellie Scopetea, “The Balkans and the Notion of the ‘Crossroads between East and West’”, in Demetres Tziovas (ed.), Greece and the Balkans: Identities, Perceptions and Cultural Encounters since the Enlightenment, Ashgate Publishing, Burlington 2003, pp. 171-178. 6 Maria Todorova, Imagining the Balkans, p. 20. 249 Imaging the Forbidden Exactly in this mechanism, the representations of the orientalized “other” were tied up with the Serbian cultural identity, at the time of its creation and national constitution. With all of that in mind, more effort is required to explore orientalist discourse in Serbian culture outside the system of relations where it was fundamentally seen. Therefore, the anchor of this paper will be in the conceptions which go beyond the limitations such as discourse association with the systems of colonialism and imperialism or the strict West/East binary. In order to understand its operating principle within a different set of circumstances, the starting point will be an extended apprehension of Orientalism as heterogeneous and adaptable, whose discursive power is transferable onto different social and geopolitical locations.7 Such an understanding will enable analysis of harem representations and their place in the Serbian cultural ideology of the nineteenth century. The Harem Woman on Display The European orientalist production constructed a cultural representation of the harem in the form of a multiple mythology. Mostly driven by male fantasies about the forbidden female world, hidden behind the veils and in prohibited spaces, its representations were created with notions which were conceived primarily in erotic and sexual terms. So the orientalist cultural production featured the harem in an iconic formulation, which centered the concept of sexually provocative and desirable beauties, hidden within the forbidden harem realm. The role of the women was accordingly reduced to a purely sexual aspect, especially stressing submission and obedience to their masters. And what is more, the very nature and character of the harem women were imagined in accordance with their presumed role of sexual slaves. European artists, with their prolific production, provided infinite possibilities for the interaction of the viewers with this imagined forbidden world. At the 7 An exemplary concept is “nesting orientalism” by Milica Bakić-Hayden, in which she explained its reproduction within the Balkans, where “the designation of ‘other’ has been appropriated and manipulated by those who have themselves been designated as such in orientalist discourse”: Milica Bakić-Hayden, “Nesting Orientalisms: The Case of Former Yugoslavia”, Slavic Review 54, no. 4 (1995), pp. 917-931. Also interesting is an example of internalization of orientalist discourse by Ottomans: Ussama Makdisi, “Ottoman Orientalism”, The American Historical Review 107, no. 3 (2002), pp. 768-796. 250 Irena Ćirović same time, giving figural representation to the harem woman produced a set of meanings embedded into the cultural and political repertory. As a titillating act of transgression, the image of the Eastern woman exposed to the gaze described on a metaphorical level appropriation and domination—the terms of power desirable in Western political projects.8 It fixed notions of the sexualized “other”, but also as the inferior and the powerless, which had a central role in the Western construction of the Orient. The representation of the harem woman in nineteenth-century Serbian art appears with the same orientalist logic, in correspondence with national and cultural interests. In the variety of harem images created during this period, one of the versions was the representation of a single woman, as an emblem of the whole set of orientalist meanings. One such example can be found in the opus of Vladislav Titelbah, a prominent Serbian artist of Czech origins.9 His representation, named Fatima, the Beauty of Tsarigrad, was made popular among the Serbian audience through its reproductions in the periodicals Bosanska vila (1888) and Iskra (1898).10 It is an image formulated as a portrait of a beauty, shrouded in a veil transparent enough to reveal her figure. The emphasis is placed on revealed eyes and the mysterious look, while the hints of a soft, if not inviting smile, occur from behind the veil. Its transparency also reveals the outline of the woman’s luxurious costume and her pearl- adorned headdress. Titelbah constructed the representation according to the stereotypes about the oriental woman, as elaborated in Western visual production. It is an idealized figure of femininity, with the lascivious and exotic content elaborated through the oriental accessories. The appearance of the woman is intended to provoke a sense of the 8 As Yegenoglu argues about the colonial discourse, unveiling Muslim women is linked “to the scopic regime of modernity which is characterized by a desire to master, control, and reshape the body of the subjects by making them visible. Since the veil prevents the colonial gaze from attaining such a visibility and hence mastery, its lifting becomes essential”, in Colonial Fantasies, p. 12. 9 Petar Ž. Petrović, “Život i rad Vladislava Titelbaha”, in Vladislav Titelbah, Akvarele i crteži, Etnografski muzej, Beograd 1931, pp. 1-3; Biljana Golubović, Vladislav Titelbah: 1847-1925, Galerija Matice srpske, Novi Sad 1989; Jasmina Trajkov, “Rad Vladislava Titelbaha na istraživanju i predstavljanju srpskog kulturno-istorijskog i etnografskog nasledja”, Koreni: časopis za istoriografiju i arhivistiku 7 (2009), pp. 23-28. 10 Bosanska vila, No. 14, Yr. III (Sarajevo, July 16, 1888), p. 213; Iskra, No. 13, Yr. I (Belgrade, July 1, 1898), p. 205. 251 Imaging the Forbidden mysterious, while still available and provocative. The main role is assigned to the transparent veil, as the instrument for deeper erotization. Allowing the viewer to see what is behind it, emphasized the titillating aspect of transgression of the imposed barrier. Titelbah conforms to the corpus of oriental stereotypes also by naming the woman Fatima, as an act of intensifying the portrait’s “reality”. This common Muslim name and its derivations were transformed by orientalist usage into the synonym for an oriental woman, created in the popular motif of the “Beautiful Fatima”.11 This stereotypical construction was exactly what Titelbah had based his representation on. Additionally, with the image title he located the origin of the depicted Fatima in Istanbul, the seat of the Ottoman Empire. This type of distinction had a reinforcing effect of orientalization, transferred onto the entire city and the country of which she was a symbolic representation. In that sense, Titelbah’s painting fits right into the discourse that used to be desirable within the national program and the ideological relation of Serbia to the Ottoman Empire. Beside the Ottomans, other communities whose ethnic and religious difference was perceived as “otherness” were also subjects of an orientalizing discourse in Serbian culture. Within the harem imagery, it is shown by a painting by Paja Jovanović, today known as Woman in the Oriental Dress (mid-1880s). It is a representation of a female figure, given in the typical eroticizing concept of harem fantasy. Her body is completely exposed to the observer, in an expression of availability and openness for sexual excess. She is facing the viewer directly, arranged in a pose of an explicit sexual charge, intensified by arms provocatively raised above her head. The costume she is wearing as well as the accessories of the interior are designed to be associated with the domain of the exotic and oriental. In the critical review of Paja Jovanović’s 1893 Belgrade exhibition, this painting was mentioned as Albanian Woman in a Harem.12 Even though the association with the Albanian has very little foundation in the painting itself, it could be perceived 11 The popularity of this motif can be seen in products such as French post cards with erotic images of oriental women. See: Malek Alloula, The Colonial Harem. It was also present in the labelling of products of mass consumption, such as cigarettes or cosmetics, as an association with the oriental riches: Dana S. Hale, Races on Display. French Representations of Colonized Peoples 1886-1940, Indiana University Press, Bloomington 2008, pp. 119-120. 12 The exhibition was organized for the occasion of announcing Paja Jovanović as the member of the Serbian Royal Academy. 252 Irena Ćirović with this ethnic attribution only within Jovanović’s opus as a whole. This prominent Serbian artist spent most of his work creating Balkan scenes in an oriental manner, which brought him international fame.13 After obtaining an education in Vienna, where he became familiar with orientalist painting, he focused on the scenes from the Balkans. Constructed as the imaginary exotic world,14 his representations were created with a mix of various ethnographic elements, predominantly Albanian and Montenegrin. Intended primarily for a Western audience, scenes arranged thusly gave the sense of authenticity, even though they had very little in common with actual reality. In this fashion, Jovanović presented harem woman in the specific costume which he frequently applied in his Balkans sceneries but which had no clear origin in a single ethnic group. In addition, for the harem interior he used a segment of an abandoned house which he had previously painted during his travels through Georgia, while gathering ethnographic features for future works.15 This space with features of Ottoman architecture he carefully filled with accessories, such as a small table, a rug and some cushions, aiming to the “effect of realism” of this harem realm. All the accessories, on and around the posed woman, provided a sense of sufficient, but not excessive authenticity, in which this harem fantasy could work for the Serbian audience as an image of an Albanian woman. This effect was intensified in other of Jovanović’s art works presented in the Belgrade exhibition, where Albanian attributes dominated the content. More to the point, this canvas was even regarded as a pair to the painting called The Albanian Watchman, which it matched in format and single-figure composition.16 With its orientalist connotations, this perception of the Jovanović’s harem corresponded to the overall cultural projection of the Albanians, discursively inscribed in Serbian thought at the time. It is shown in the critical commentary of the Belgrade exhibition, where Jovanović’s works were regarded as 13 On Paja Jovanović, see: Radmila Antić, Paja Jovanović, Muzej grada Beograda, Beograd 1970; Miroslav Timotijević, Paja Jovanović, Narodni muzej Beograd, Beograd 2009; Nikola Kusovac, Paja Jovanović, Muzej grada Beograda, Beograd 2010. 14 Dejan Sretenović, “Sve ove zemlje gotovo se i ne razlikuju u mojim očima”, in: Izmedju estetike i života: predstava žene u slikarstvu Paje Jovanovića,Galerija Matice srpske 2010, pp. 181-201. 15 Petar Petrović, Paja Jovanović: sistemski katalog dela, Narodni muzej Beograd, Beograd 2012, p. 99. 16 Dragutin S. Milutinović, Slike Paje Jovanovića, Beograd 1893, reprinted in Miodrag Kolarić (ed.), Izložbe u Beogradu 1880-1904, Narodni muzej Beograd, Beograd 1958, p. 54. 253 Imaging the Forbidden scenes of the “wild life” of the Albanians, marked as exotic, as well as uneducated.17 Put like that, it was a manifestation of one of the dominant discourses about Albanian “otherness”, intertwined with the existing complex ideological relation towards them in national thought.18 And the orientalist features of Jovanović’s work enabled this very perception, articulated by the culturally desirable context. Waiting for the Master The European representations of the harem through the various clichés kept reproducing several main concepts, inscribed in the Western imagination of the Orient. Based on the stereotypes, which originated mainly from the visions of the sultan’s imperial household, they insisted on the notion of the harem as a sexual prison of a multitude of women, wrapped in luxury, splendor, and eroticism. Women of the harem were imagined as sexual prisoners owned by a despot, reduced to mere subservience and passivity, and without the indication of any social activities. Left to idleness and waiting for their master, they are largely represented in rituals such as smoking a narghile, drinking coffee, dabbling in magic, or having lavish harem entertainments. For the Western audience, all these rituals carried the context of backward and uncivilized, while at the same time emphasizing the very nature of the harem as a place of fulfillment of bodily passions. This predominant representation of the harem created a set of attributes, which were suitable, not only for the fulfillment of erotic fantasies, but also for cultural activities in producing the “otherness”. The characteristics such as backwardness and barbarism, together with irrationality, created an image of the Orient as an atemporal and frozen world, the world which was left outside the course of Western progress and modernity.19 Constructed within such concepts, the dominant image 17 Ibid., pp. 49-58. 18 On Serbian-Albanian relations, see: Andrej Mitrović (ed.), Srbi i Albanci u XX veku, SANU, Beograd 1991. 19 In the definition of Linda Nochlin, this kind of orientalist representation is constructed with an “absence of history”. Discussing the work of Jean-Léon Gérôme, she notes that Orient world “is a world without change, a world of timeless, atemporal customs and rituals, untouched by the historical processes that were ‘afflicting’ or ‘improving’ but, at any rate, drastically altering Western societies at the time”: Linda Nochlin, “The Imaginary Orient”, pp. 35-36. 254 Irena Ćirović of the harem had a significant effect on increasing the difference of the Orient, as well as on the ideas about its inferiority, thus legitimizing political and the cultural pretensions to it. Stereotypical projections of the harem were also the main determinant of representations created by Serbian artists. One such typical scene can be found within the opus of Paja Jovanović. It is an image of a group of women having a musical entertainment in a harem, which is taking place in honor of the master’s favorite.20 Standing out in white clothes and with naked breasts, she is represented in the form of an odalisque lying on cushions. Her higher hierarchical status in the harem is expressed by a dark-skinned slave-woman who is serving her, while she is watching another woman dancing. The overall scene of a licentious party is placed into a richly decorated space, which refers to orientalist iconography in its architecture and details. In presenting the entertainment, Paja Jovanović utilized basic thematic cliché of harem imagery, reproducing its main orientalist features. At the same time, he used a sequence of elements which he had previously developed in the scenes from the Balkans, thus manifesting the ability of their transformation according to the desired context. He repeatedly used the identical types of female characters and their clothes, as well as the poses—such as the woman carried away by dance—in this case, removing them from the Balkan context into the realm of the imaginary oriental harem. The reduced role of the harem women in oriental imagery also appears in the representations of the exotic beauties playing instruments in solitude.21 One such painting can be found within the opus of Svetislav Jovanović, brother of Paja Jovanović.22 This painter received his education in Vienna and St. Petersburg, as well as Paris, where he continued living for the most of his life. He spent a part of his career working in Munich, in his brother’s studio, with whose art he shared many similarities. Svetislav Jovanović’s artistic opus also included scenes from the Balkans, as well as typically orientalist representations. Among his work, which had become popular in Serbia with the help of illustrated periodicals, there is also a painting with the characteristic theme of a harem musician. Titled On the balcony, it presents an 20 The painting was published in: Martina Haja & Günther Wimmer, Les orientalistes des écoles allemande et autrichienne, ACR Edition, Paris 2000, p. 275. 21 For examples, see: Joan DelPlato, Multiple Wives, Multiple Pleasures, pp. 134-137. 22 For Svetislav Jovanović: Emilija V. Cerović, “Svetislav Jovanović—slikar”, Sveske: časopis za književnost, umetnost i kulturu 65-66 (2002), pp. 190-198. 255 Imaging the Forbidden image of an oriental beauty sitting on a balcony, completely immersed in playing an Eastern string instrument.23 The scene is filled out with the typical accessories of harem imagery, such as a narghile, a kilim, or slippers, while in the background are the hints of a city skyline, and the minaret of a mosque—a detail which provides a symbolic geographic settlement. The sentiment of an imprisoned beauty who is passing time by playing music is intensified by the very space of the balcony where she is located. In harem imagery, the balcony appears often as a symbolic zone, the only space outside the harem where the women can be unveiled. It is a limited zone from where they can observe the outside world, and still remain unseen, separated, and left to loneliness. Formulated in this manner, the image of a harem woman was constructed as a stereotype, widely accepted in Serbian culture. In time, it was incorporated into the mass culture as an image with easily recognizable meaning. It was, therefore, often seen as an illustration which brought a commercial visual stamp to literary publications. One such example is the collection of poems called Dahire (1891) by a well-known Serbian author and politician, Jovan Ilić, which made him famous as a poet of Eastern lyrics.24 On the front page of its first edition, there was a portrait of a oriental woman dancing with a tambourine, used as an illustration with an emblematic function. Another example is an oriental music player which appeared as an accompanying illustration of the poem Ašik-Ajše by Jelena Dimitrijević, published in the popular Serbian magazine Nova iskra, where it alluded to its Eastern-themed content.25 Women Producers and the Male Gaze Filled with fantasies about the forbidden, harem imagery is dominated by the principles of male desires as the main driving force behind it. Thus, in the very core of the harem imagery lay the voyeuristic concept which presumed men as the observers and women as displayed. In the orientalist discourse, such a structure had wider sexual references in the overall vision of the Orient, connoted with the power relations. This concept of the masculinity of Orientalism is exactly what brings into focus the question of 23 The painting is known through the reproduction published in the Serbian magazine Nova Iskra, No. 12, yr. 4 (Belgrade, December 1902), p. 363. 24 Jovan Ilić, Dahire, Štamparija Kraljevine Srbije, Beograd 1891. 25 Nova iskra, No. 3, Yr. II (Belgrade, March 16, 1900), p. 70. 256 Irena Ćirović women’s position and participation in its production.26 From this standpoint, it is interesting to note that in Serbian visual art one also finds creations produced by women. They are suitable examples for analyzing the gender position and dynamics within the orientalist production. One of the harem paintings, maybe even the earliest one in nineteenth-century Serbian art, was created by Katarina Ivanović, a female artist whose work is currently re-evaluated with the epithet of the first Serbian woman painter.27 Originally from Stoni Beograd, she received her education in Pest, Vienna, and Munich. Her opus includes mostly historical and national themes, portraits, and genre scenes. Among her works is also a painting called Fortune-Telling (1865-70). It was exhibited in the Serbian capital Belgrade in 1882, together with pieces that were gifted to the National Museum’s permanent display.28 The painting represents a group of women being entertained by an old lady who is reading destiny from the cards. As harem slaves, they are created in expected mode of attractiveness and beauty, dressed in the finest garments, with gold and jewellery which completes the impression of oriental splendor and luxury. The repetition of the typical details—such as leisurely poses, unbridled hair, smoking chibouk—serves to evoke the lasciviousness of dreamlike harem world. In the background, this world is being protected by a dark-skinned eunuch, serving as a figure intensifying the excitement of observing the forbidden. The very act of fortune-telling which occupies the women in the scene also appears as another common theme of the harem imagery. Within the context of the primitive beliefs into the otherworldly, it repeated the concepts immanent in the Western constructions about the Orient, as the opposite to the modern and rational. 26 About the position of women in relation to orientalism, see: Meyda Yegenoglu, Colonial Fantasies: Towards a Feminist Reading of Orientalism, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge 1998; Sara Mills, Discourses of Differences: An Analysis of Women’s Travel Writing and Colonialism, Routledge, London 1991; Billie Melman, Women’s Orients. English Women and the Middle East, 1718-191: Sexuality, Religion and Work, University of Michigan Press, Ann Arbor 1992; Reina Lewis, Gendering Orientalism: Race, Femininity and Representation, Routledge, London 1996; Mary Roberts, Intimate Outsiders: The Harem in Ottoman and Orientalist Art and Travel Literature, Duke University Press, Durham 2008. 27 Miroslav Timotijević & Radmila Mihailović, Katarina Ivanović, Vojnoizdavački zavod & Narodni muzej u Beogradu, Beograd 2004. 28 Ibid., pp. 49-50, 170-171. 257 Imaging the Forbidden It is obvious that in this creation, Katarina Ivanović used a cliché found in European paintings. Perusing her interest in this popular genre, Katarina Ivanović found a basis in the fundamental harem stereotypes that was articulated by predominant male fantasy, at the same time reproducing its entire orientalist logic. This kind of female creation within the characteristic models of harem imagery leads to the notion that gender position in orientalist productions did not necessarily arise as challenges. On the contrary, it could confirm the power that predominantly male concepts had in Orientalism. The driving motive for this kind of female production should primarily be sought in the popularity of the harem themes and its desirability within the cultural system. In that matter, one of the determining factors in the case of Katarina Ivanović was a striving to establish herself as a painter, in difficult conditions, at a time when being a female artist was in opposition to the social norms. An even more explicit example of the harem fantasma created primarily for men can be found in the work of Beta Vukanović. This artist of German descent came to Serbia after marrying a Serbian painter, Rista Vukanović; there she spent the rest of her life actively involving in the artistic and cultural scene.29 Among the work created during her first few years in Serbia is the painting After the Bath (1906).30 Referring by its title to the typical paintings of harem bathing, Beta Vukanović staged a scene where women are entertaining themselves with fortune-telling after the supposed bath. In such a narrative, the painting is dominated by a naked female body, exposed to the viewer in the manner of an odalisque. With a cigarette in hand, which intensifies the tone of lasciviousness, this naked female character is immersed in conversation with her friend who is telling her fortune. All the accessories of the interior, with an oriental rug and the hamam slippers, serve to place the event into the realm of the harem. On the side of the scene is a parrot, also a frequent detail of harem paintings, which implicates the exoticness of the harem space, at the same time alluding to the women’s captivity and enslavement. It can be said that Beta Vukanović’s painting is also an example of female creation that was articulated in accordance with the dominant male fantasy. Through the 29 Vera Ristić, Beta Vukanović, Vojnoizdavački zavod & Muzej grada Beograda, Beograd 2004. 30 The painting was exibited for the first time at the Exibition of the “Lada” Society of Serbian Artists in 1906, and in the following year at the Balkan States Exhibition in London: Ibid., pp. 32, 35. Presently, it is in the collection of the National Museum in Belgrade, officially named Fortune telling. 258 Irena Ćirović visualization of harem eroticism, based on the male viewer and the female body displayed, she reproduced the main sexualized aspect of the dominant orientalist concepts. However, the complexity comes not only from the aspect of the female creation, but from the fact that the nude as a traditional practice of high art was not entirely accepted in Serbian culture of the time. This was the period of its early immersion into the Serbian art, just beginning to be accepted by the conservative public. Therefore, the very situation where a woman appeared as the creator of a visual erotic object bore multiple meanings, especially at a time when society was asking for sexual abstinence as a norm, particularly from women. So it seems that in dealing with a female nude, Beta Vukanović reduced its problematic aspect significantly, by placing it into the domain of the oriental harem. In that manner, potential for positive reception by the domestic public was secured, both in the context of the realm which allowed erotic fantasies to men as well as from the standpoint of the female creation. Inside the Forbidden Zone The orientalistic discourse in Serbia was significantly reinforced by historic events. One of those was the Serbian-Turkish wars (1876-1878), as a situation which imposed the need for strengthening state authority and its control, especially in the conquered territories that were integrated into the Serbian state. War conflicts and direct encounters with the Muslim population in these areas provided an opportunity for the implementation of orientalist stereotypes into the actually present Ottoman culture. It was a mechanism that consolidated and secured dominance in the new division of power. In these specific dynamics of Orientalism, the harem re-appears as a trope with even more intense meaning. As can be noticed from several examples, these harem narratives are created within a slightly different concept. The situation of war and direct contact with the Muslim community led to the appearance of representations created as a personal testimony of one who actually entered the forbidden harem domain. Confrontation with reality, however, did not disturb existing harem fantasy. It was, in fact, an extension of the established orientalistic vision, now even more consolidated by the argumentation of the “true witness”. In this ideological framework, one of the images by Vladislav Titelbah was created. It is a representation of a Mohammedan woman from Niš, the town where the artist was staying immediately after it had been recaptured by the Serbian army. The image 259 Imaging the Forbidden was presented to the general public through an illustration in the newspaper Srpske ilustrovane novine, published together with a written citation by the artist himself.31 In his text, Titelbah informs the readers how the image was created while he was staying in Niš, when he had been invited by a Turkish gentleman to make a portrait of his wife. Accepted by the artist with an open excitement, his entrance into the harem did not disappoint the author’s expectations in the act of revealing the hidden secret. Thus he brings a portrait representation of a girl, a young beauty, adorned in a costume with distinct ethnographic features. Seen in profile, she is holding a cigarette in a raised hand, as a detail that marks her whole appearance. Just as in the portrait, the author also gave an elaborate description of the girl in the written text, paying special attention to her clothes and hairstyle as an ethnographic alibi. Functioning as a whole, Titelbah’s visual and literal representations carried a complex set of meanings embedded in the political context. The display of harem woman was metaphorically transmitted to the conquering of the city of Niš, the symbol of national victory. As an object of a visual representation, she was brought before the public gaze, becoming explicit and known, thereby controlled, as an ottoman element over which nation claimed authority. Moreover, the portrait was published in the magazine under the title Image from Serbia: Mohammedan Woman from Niš, which additionally placed it into the context of national sovereignty, as the main intent for its publishing. At the very end of Titelbah’s text there is a section which yields much more complexity than the exotization of the “other” as a way of gaining control. While relaying his impressions from the harem, the author notes the “fire in the girl’s eyes”, and some sort of “secret sorrow”, a sentiment which he explains later with a revelation that the woman is in a fact a Serbian girl who had been bought as a slave for the harem. This creates a strong shift in the storytelling which puts the Turk, the owner of the harem, into the focus, with the metaphorical meaning of a national enemy whose viciousness is confirmed in the abduction of the Serbian woman. Titelbah’s representation thus was constructed as an act of revealing the harem secret, in which the Serbian audience could have participated, both in word and in image, but in a 31 Srpske ilustrovane novine, No. 27, Yr. II (Novi Sad, August 15, 1882), pp. 229, 240. The original is in the Ethnographic Museum in Belgrade, within the Titelbah’collection. It is filed under the title Jewish Girl from Niš, according to the inscription much later added on the backside. 260 Irena Ćirović liminal state between the fascination with the harem and a warning about the enemy who appropriates women. The narrative of a witness who has gained access into the forbidden harem world can also be found in the memoirs of Dimitrije-Mita Petrović, a comprehensive school art teacher, who had been involved in the wars noted as a war illustrator. Among his descriptions of war events, there is also an adventure that took place in a harem, a narrative, which unlike Titelbah’s, is created with the notions of explicit eroticism.32 On one occasion he met a rich Turkish man from Niš, who was stationed at the same place as the Serbian army while traveling with his entire harem. By using drawing skills as the argument, Petrović succeeded in talking the Turk into allowing him to enter the strictly guarded harem in order to draw one of his women. The descriptions of the subsequent events are given as the fulfillment of all the expectations contained in the orientalistic fantasies about the harem. Thus, the girl being exposed by the author is described within the concepts of the exceptional ravishing beauty and eroticism, amplified by the descriptions of the transparent costume exposing the forbidden female body to the man’s eye. But the whole event did not remain at this level of an exciting transgression. In spite of the Turk’s reluctance, the woman is represented as the one willingly exposing herself and actively interacting with the stranger. The following situation is described as a sexual game, an erotic flirtation between the artist and the one who is posing for him: With Mehmet’s permission I approached to pose Zoraida. I lightly grabbed both of her arms and moved her to sit down. But she clenched her elbows gently and my hand touched her body. A secret smile appeared on her lips. Once she sat down, I took her face in both hands, touching her round cheeks, which were as pink as a ruby. I felt under my hands that she was also trembling, both of us feeling the same. But—alas! The Turk would not move away, keeping her as the brightest treasure he would have died for.33 The seduction game at the end of the text finishes with the woman secretly appealing to the stranger and asking him to save her from the harem. The desire for escape will 32 Dimitrije-Mita Petrović, Borbe u Toplici 1877-1878, Arhiv Srbije, Beograd 1979, pp. 230- 235. This section of the memoirs was also indicated in: Nenad Makuljević, “Slika drugog u srpskoj vizuelnoj kulturi XIX veka”, p. 147. 33 Dimitrije-Mita Petrović, Borbe u Toplici 1877-1878, pp. 235-236. 261 Imaging the Forbidden be confirmed once more in the text, in a story told by a Serbian soldier, to whom she also offered and exposed herself in exchange for rescuing her from the harem. Thus portrayed, the character of the beautiful Zoraida was created in Petrović’s memoirs in the typical orientalist narrative about a harem beauty who is looking for salvation. She even shares the name Zoraida with the heroine from “The Captive’s Tale” of Cervantes’s Don Quixote, who is the literary embodiment of a Muslim maiden in need of rescue by the Western male.34 In Petrović’s notes, the harem beauty Zoraida will even repeat the motif from Cervantes’s tale, where the heroine offers money to her potential savior as the means for her own liberation. With all these attributes, Petrović’s harem narrative constructs a character of a woman in need, a woman seeking for her righteous savior on the road to religious and cultural conversion. Created within these concepts, it projected a much wider spectrum of references suitable for the political and cultural requirements. Placed in the historic specificity of the conflict between Serbia and the Ottoman Empire, her character provided a fitting metaphor laced with notions of power and superiority. Representing the Ottoman “otherness”, she was formulated in a manner honoring the superior one, the one to whom she made sexual offers while asking for salvation. These kinds of harem representations were especially intensified by the effect of reality. Projected as a truthful account, they were carrying the reinforced meaning of masculine dominance over the sexualized oriental female, inscribed within the structure of political power relations. Regarding this, it is important to mention another written account of the harem, created in contrast to this male dominant discourse. The literary work Letters from Niš about Harems (1897) by Jelena Dimitrijević, was one of the central literary works about harems at the end of the nineteenth century.35 It is also based on experiences from Niš, the town where the writer moved soon after its liberation. This text gave her the status of an expert about harems, whose authority was based on the fact that, as a woman, she was legitimately allowed to visit them.36 In respect of this matter, the work of Jelena Dimitrijević seemed to readers as a veritable 34 Mohja Kahf, Western Representations of the Muslim Woman: From Termagant to Odalisque, University of Texas Press, Austin 1999, pp. 80-90. 35 Jelena Dimitrijević, Pisma iz Niša o haremima, Parna radikalna štamparija, Beograd 1897. 36 The veracity with which work of Jelena Dimitrijević was accepted is evident in rumors of that time that she was in fact an escapee from the harem: Bosanska vila, br. 5. i 6, god. XIV (Sarajevo, 15. i 30. mart 1899), p. 58. 262 Irena Ćirović revelation of Turkish harems. At the same time, it came up as a particular counter- discourse that challenged dominant Orientalist fantasy.37 Consisting of depictions of the harem women as active participants in social and family life, it deconstructed the sole roots of the iconic sexualized representations. Even though it was not without descriptions of exotic female beauty or scenes of lascivious harem parties, the main foundation of the text was the narration about family life, social customs, and mutual relations. The female point of view even invoked some observations regarding the bad and unhealthy conditions under which the harem women were living, as well as regarding the customs which deprived the readers from experiencing any kind of feminine sexuality. Furthermore, the traditional family system and the woman’s position were sometimes criticized from a feminist standpoint. But equally emphasized were the positive aspects in the lives of Muslim women, as a challenge to the established notions about the harem, and, to an even greater extent, to the idea about the Turks. The work of Jelena Dimitrijević can be characterized as female agency, which opposed the dominant harem fantasy but without the essential subversion of the orientalist discourse itself.38 The female approach which insisted on the reality of a harem life in this case represents more an orientalist variation, also intertwined with national ideology and cultural differentiation from the Ottoman. The image of the harem and the author’s self-identity as a representative of the nation were constructed against each other throughout the entire work, by utilizing the opposite notions of uncivilized/civilized, primitive/enlightened, Turkish/Serbian (which equaled European). Projected within these differences, the image of the harem was constructed as “otherness” placed in the service of Serbian national and cultural superiority. This power relation is especially expressed by allusions to the Serbian victorious nation, placed in opposition to the Turks who are doomed to be ruined. In that the centralized trope is the town of Niš, a sacralized place and a symbol of national victory, in which harems are the ones admitting defeat by more powerful force. In this relation, Turkish women even appeared in the statement to the author: “Under the burden of heavy sins we all shall fall soon, while you will be rewarded for your nobility and justice by the 37 Svetlana Slapšak, “Haremi, nomadi – Jelena Dimitrijević”, pp. 137-149. 38 Scholars who critically examined women’s harem literature pointed out various ways in which women contested masculine fantasies, while also investing their own in the harem narrative: see above note 24. 263 Imaging the Forbidden all-mighty Allah”.39 The work also ends in the same manner—with a symbolic lament of the harem women for the loss of Niš, from which they slowly disappear. On the whole, it is an argument noticeably analogous to the colonial discourse, where the defeated admit their own mistakes, for which they are condemned to doom.40 This very relation, which comprises the framework of the Jelena Dimitrijević’s narration, projected the harem in the concept that was desirable in Serbian national and cultural ideology. As much as it was opposed to the harem fantasies, it was also inscribed into the power structure, in which the Ottomans can only exist as oriental and inferior other, the one who is disappearing and who will traverse into fiction. The same principle can be designated as the main characteristic of the entire harem imagery in Serbian culture of this period. It was a cultural production of Orientalism, as a discourse desirable within the political and the cultural projects of the Serbian nation. 39 Jelena Dimitrijević, Pisma iz Niša o haremima, pp. 9-10. 40 Svetlana Slapšak, “Haremi, nomadi – Jelena Dimitrijević”, p. 139. 264 Vladana Putnik Influence of the Ottoman Architecture on the Aesthetics of Folklorism in Serbian Architecture Vladana Putnik Department of History Art, Faculty of Philosophy, University of Belgrade Folklorism represented a different, unique way of searching for national expression in Serbian architecture, with nineteenth-century Balkan secular architecture as its main inspiration. It was formed as a specific phenomenon in the Kingdom of Yugoslavia, and therefore, it very well reflected, on the whole, the state of its interwar architectural scene as well as political and cultural conditions that greatly influenced its development. Applying elements from what is thought to be traditional Serbian architecture, folklorism attempted to relate architectural heritage to contemporary tendencies.1 There were two models that inspired architects who created projects in this style: first was the classical representative Ottoman konak, a wooden house on a grand scale, often located in an urban environment, as a town villa, which exhibits the full range of characteristics and architectural vocabulary of all Ottoman wooden houses.2 The second one was the so-called “moravian” house, also defined as a traditional Serbian type of building. What made folklorism undoubtedly progressive and inventive was in most cases its scientific theory, especially in the work of Branislav Kojić and Aleksandar Deroko. Without that professional view on the matter, every effort in modernizing elements of national heritage would be inadequate and merely retrograde. There were attempts even before World War I to incorporate the “old Serbian style” into some of the contemporary architectural movements, but they seemed to 1 Aleksandar Kadijević, Jedan vek traženja nacionalnog stila u srpskoj arhitekturi: sredina XIX – sredina XX veka [One Century of Search for National Style in Architecture] , Građevinska knjiga, Belgrade 1997, p. 203. 2 Carel Bertram, Imagining the Turkish House: Collective Visions of Home, University of Texas Press, Austin 2008, p. 31. 265 Influence of the Ottoman Architechture be inadequate and insufficient. Branko Tanazević was among the first architects who comprehended the values of national architecture by using reinterpreted decorative elements from folk art and incorporating them in the form of houses from the Ottoman period in his projects for country schools.3 His research very much influenced the future contemplations about architecture from that period. An event that was very important for the development of folklorism was a contest that was announced for erecting The Art Pavilion “Cvijeta Zuzorić” in Belgrade in 1925. The original location for the building of the Pavilion was crucial for the terms of the contest. Since the location was on the site where Patriarchate was later built, the terms were that the Pavilion should be built in accordance with the surrounding buildings:4 Konak of Princess Ljubica, “?” tavern (kafana), and Ičko’s house. Such a request meant using architectural elements from the period of Ottoman reign, for example, the continuous line of windows with no infill between the struts, four- slope roofing, and large overhanging eaves. Branislav Kojić, who won first prize,5 and Milan Zloković were among the youngest participants. This project was their first attempt to apply motifs from nineteenth-century Balkan profane architecture to a modern building. Unfortunately, both the awarded project and the location were changed since the mayor of Belgrade, Kosta Kumanudi, commented on Kojić’s work unfavorably, saying the Pavilion resembled a road tavern.6 Kumanudi’s criticism was unfounded, and it was a product of fear of bringing back the dark, negative past, the way the reign of Ottoman Empire was characterized for the Serbian people. After that first experiment, Kojić began to search for his own architectural expression through Balkan profane architecture. Seeing its potential, he concluded that contemporary Belgrade architecture should be inspired from its heritage. Through combining traditional elements, construction, and decoration with modern technology, as Kojić said, “There were grand opportunities for using our architectural tradition for a new way of building and shaping buildings that would be far more adequate for Serbia”.7 3 Zoran Маnеvić, “Art Deco and National Tendencies in Serbian Architecture”, Тhe Journal of Decorative and Propaganda Arts 17 (1990), pp. 71-75. 4 Snežana Toševa, Branislav Kojić, Građevinska knjiga, Belgrade 1998, p. 22. 5 Politika, Oct. 31, 1925, p. 16. 6 Snežana Toševa, Branislav Kojić, p. 23. 7 Branislav Kojić, Arhitektura srpskog sela – Šumadija i Pomoravlje [Serbian Country Architecture − Šumadija and Pomoravlje], Tehnički fakultet, Belgrade 1941, p. 7. 266 Vladana Putnik Many constructive elements in the architecture from the Ottoman period appeared to be extremely functional, for example, four-slope roofing, which modernism rejected. Kojić’s first project built in folkloristic style was his family house on Zadarska Street in 1926. Many elements were taken from the architecture of konaks and incorporated in this object.8 The asymmetrical facade has two well-composed bay windows that have a dynamic effect. It is evident that the model used for this house was Konak of Princess Ljubica. The interior has hand-made wooden furniture designed by Branislav Kojić’s wife, Danica.9 It is romantic, but also very expressive and original. The house of Miodrag Marinković on International Brigade Street in Belgrade is one the most impressive examples of foklorism. Every element is both aesthetical and functional and has been elaborated to perfection. Decorative details, such as the gate with a small gabled roof and chimney pots, are effectively incorporated. An asymetrical facade with a bayed window, constructed especially for a “divanhana”, the most luxuriously decorated room in the house, on the other hand does not seem eclectic at all. The house was deemed one of the four most beautiful buildings in national style in 1930.10 It had a successful, functional, and economical plan, although it had all the elements of a traditional Balkan house.11 In 1934, with the permission of Branislav Kojić, the house was expanded.12 During the bombing of Belgrade in 1944 the roof was damaged and inadequately restored. Another floor was added in 2009, and the original gate was removed. Kojić also designed Nikola Djordjević’s villa on Temišvarska Street in cooperation with Jan Dubovy in 1930. This is basically a modern villa, but with arched windows, a wooden balcony, and a bay window as a final touch. The interior design resembles Balkan houses from the Ottoman period, where the living room faces the garden instead of the street, as was common in Belgrade residential architecture. Danica Kojić was again in charge of designing the whole interior. Wooden beams on the ceiling and wall paneling remind us of the interior design of konaks. The dining 8 Aleksandar Kadijević, Jedan vek traženja nacionalnog stila, pp. 203-204. 9 Snežana Toševa, Branislav Kojić, p. 25. 10 Politika, Jan. 24, 1930, p. 7. 11 Ljiljana Miletić Abramović, Arhitektura rezidencija i vila Beograda 1830-2000 [Residential Architecture in Belgrade 1830-2000], Karić fondacija, Belgrade 2002, p. 232. 12 Snežana Toševa, Branislav Kojić, p. 26. 267 Influence of the Ottoman Architechture room is the most beautiful part of the house, and since it is U-shaped and overlooking the garden, it was called the “Turkish saloon”.13 Branislav Kojić was among the first architects who studied and promoted Balkan architecture from the Ottoman period, explaining, defining, and naming it “Balkan profane architecture”, which was very important for future research.14 With the help of his colleagues, he initiated the revalorization and restoration of architectural heritage from the first half of nineteenth century. The essential part of Kojić’s theory is the modernity of folkorism. It was not a mere eclectical revival of the past, but a synthesis of constructive and decorative elements from Ottoman architecture and the laws of modernism. There were also other architects who made similar attempts to revive what they called “Turkish architecture”.15 Djura Bajalović said that the buildings from that period were not a Turkish product, but purely characteristic of the Balkan Peninsula, although he had vague arguments to support that. He, therefore, appealed to his colleagues to use the Balkan architectural heritage as an inspiration in their future projects.16 Aleksandar Deroko applied a traditional way of building ton his house on Jovan Danić Street in Dedinje in 1936. The whole house was built out of the material from the early nineteenth century houses that had been abandoned and destroyed. He also forbade work contractors to use modern equipment.17 This was a unique example of literal interpretation of traditional building, and therefore, it was very significant in the development of Serbian architecture. Unfortunately, the house was later completely changed, and its original look was not preserved. Deroko’s opinion regarding the development of architecture was based on the needs of a common man, economic conditions, and the climate. Bondruk construction was very suitable to the continental climate of the Balkan Peninsula. Four-slope tiled roofing usually was not sharply pitched because of the mild winters.18 13 Ibid., p. 36. 14 Ibid., pp. 119-121. 15 Ivan Zdravković, “Vile na Topčiderskom brdu i Dedinju” [Villas on Topčider Hill and Dedinje], Umetnički pregled 7 (July 1939), p. 198. 16 Đura Bajalović, “Ka starom srpskom stilu” [Towards the Old Serbian Style], Beogradske opštinske novine (December 1932), p. 769. 17 Zoran M. Jovanović, Aleksandar Deroko, Republički zavod za zaštitu spomenika kulture i Društvo konzervatora Srbije, Belgrade 1991, pp. 89-90. 18 Ibid., pp. 23-27. 268 Vladana Putnik Momir Korunović built his summer house in Dedinje in 1928. He applied elements of Ottoman architecture; the most attractive motif is a wooden doksat, a logia, painted in green. Asymmetrical disposition of the windows and complex four-slope roofing makes a good impression on the observer. Traditional materials were used, for example, plastered brick, tiles, and wood.19 Janko Šafarik designed an interesting villa in the Professors’ Colony in Belgrade for Nenad Ivković in 1929.20 The house stands out with a balcony that resembles a doksat. The roof is on four slopes, and the shutters are wooden. The owner gained permission in 2006 to add another floor on the condition that everything else remains authentic. The roof stayed intact, it was just raised to the next floor, and the original tiles and wooden construction were preserved. The most successful examples of folklorism were family houses and villas, surrounded by a garden, which was a typical way of living in the Balkans under the Ottoman Empire. The Villa of Ljubica Todorović on Jaša Prodanović Street is a very successful example of folklorism, with a balcony similar to the one on Nenad Ivković’s house. A villa on Milovan Glišić Street has all the elements of Ottoman architecture, with a beautiful view of the river. Unfortunately, it has not preserved its original look, like most private houses from the interwar period. A villa on Tolstoy Street represents a real masterpiece by Čedomir Glišić, with its decorative façade and brick panels, arched windows, stylized doksat, and a massive bay-window–balcony. Another unusual example is a small tram-station in Topčider with an arched porch and a four-sloped roof with large overhanging eaves.21 Although folklorism was not a mainstream architectural movement, it certainly represented an important link in the chain which set the borders of national identity. Its concept was directly derived from the traditional timber-framed house found mainly in Istanbul, Anatolia, Greece, and the Balkans.22 Architecture has always been one of the best ways to express a national concept. For a brief period, folklorism promoted architecture that was thought to be “pure” 19 Aleksandar Kadijević, Momir Korunović, Republički zavod za zaštitu spomenika kulture i Muzej nauke i tehnike, Belgrade 1996, pp. 62-63. 20 Aleksandar Kadijević, Jedan vek traženja nacionalnog stila, p. 205. 21 Аleksandar Ignjаtоvić, Јugоslоvеnstvо u аrhitеkturi 1904-1941 [Yugoslavism in architecture 1904-1941], Građevinska knjiga, Belgrade 2007, p. 204. 22 Carel Bertram, Imagining the Turkish House, p. 21; Ljiljana Miletić Abramović, Arhitektura rezidencija i vila, p. 348. 269 Influence of the Ottoman Architechture and without foreign influence.23 Evoking the past in a contemporary way was very important in the politics of the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes, later called Yugoslavia. By insisting on the equality and uniformity of the nation, it was easier to keep all the ethnic groups together in peace. Thus, folklorism had a part in constructing and promoting the Yugoslav identity. The question that can be asked is to what extent was so-called Balkan profane architecture authentically “Serbian”, “Yugoslav”, or “domestic”, or was that only a mere claim to an architecture that was not initially created on the Balkan Peninsula. Long before the Ottoman conquest, Slavic and Bulgarian invasions had disrupted and modified the towns and the settlement patterns of that area, which had been Byzantine. This might explain why the form of the Byzantine house, if it did have a typical form, is still a controversial subject, and why so little can be traced back from the Ottoman model to the Byzantine house.24 In his research, Branislav Kojić concluded that the architecture from the Ottoman period was not connected to any particular nation that lived on its territory. Close observation of it indicated that culture, rather than ethnicity, caused differences in house models in various regions. Therefore, political or religious boundaries did not exist concerning those particular aspects of cultural geography evidenced by housing and urban texture. Kojić also claimed that the standard Byzantine construction technique had been copied in early Ottoman buildings.25 The same conclusion was reached in the book The Balkan Peninsula by Jovan Cvijić,26 which gave the whole theory some credibility. This concept proved to be useful in constructing the myth about Yugoslav continuity.27 Among the first examples of a primordial interpretation of Balkan profane architecture, using its aesthetics for political purposes was the so called “Bosnian room”, designed for the minister of trade and industry, Mehmed Spaho, as a part of a luxurious apartment in the New Palace in Belgrade. The room is a replica of a “divanhana”, designed for an intimate social gathering. It was a true revival of an interior from the period of the Ottoman reign.28 23 Аleksandar Ignjаtоvić, Јugоslоvеnstvо u аrhitеkturi, pp. 54-55. 24 Maurice Cerasi, “The Formation of Ottoman House Types: A Comparative Study in Interaction with Neighboring Cultures”, Muqarnas 15 (1998), p. 130. 25 Branislav Kojić, Stara gradska i seoska arhitektura u Srbiji [The Old Town and Country Architecture in Serbia], Prosveta, Belgrade 1949, pp. 98-101. 26 Jovan Cvijić, Balkansko poluostrvo [The Balkan Peninsula], Belgrade 1966. 27 Аleksandar Ignjаtоvić, Јugоslоvеnstvо u аrhitеkturi, p. 246. 28 Ibid., pp. 128-129. 270 Vladana Putnik The highlight of the national style during the interwar period was the king’s residential complex at Dedinje, designed by Viktor Lukomski, Nikolai Krasnov, and Živojin Nikolić from 1934 to 1936. It has some very distinguished elements of folklorism drawn from the nineteenth-century Balkan profane architecture. This version of “national style” has an eclectic approach, which originates from the crises of Yugoslav identity, regarding the question of representing what is authentically Yugoslav. That implies using motifs that are characteristic of a Balkan town villa, with the appropriate interior design. Its impact on the aesthetics of the residential complex conceals a concept of a “Balkan Palace” for a “Balkan King”, Aleksandar I Karađorđević. The aim was to point out a “domestic” king and a dynasty that could relate to its people. Evoking the architecture from the Ottoman period was the most adequate solution, because it was thought to be authentic for the Balkans.29 The “town house” was a part of architectural heritage that could be incorporated into an ideology that represented Kingdom of Yugoslavia. On the other hand, its style was very suitable, because it was somewhere between the east and the west, the rural and the urban environment; in a word, it was adjustable for a political purpose. Therefore the royal complex became the living metaphor of the cultural crossroads.30 One of the main advantages of folklorism is that it is not religiously or nationally determined, but exclusively territorial, which makes it ideal for the promotion of a multiconfessional and multinational country. At the World Expo in Paris in 1937, the concept of superior nation was dominant in most of the pavilions. The Kingdom of Yugoslavia once again tried to symbolize national unity with a replica of a typical “Bosnian house”.31 The Kingdom of Yugoslavia was not the only country that used elements of Ottoman architecture for political purposes. Romanian architects also applied a similar style, returning to national tradition, a combination of foreign models, and glorification of a healthy, national culture. Romania’s national style was conditioned less by nostalgia for a past golden age, or by an effort to return a “lost” national identity. It addressed more the country’s political and economic need. At that time Romania was, like the Kingdom of Yugoslavia, a young, small but independent kingdom that needed to create an internationally recognized public face. 29 Ibid., p. 189. 30 Аleksandar Ignjаtоvić, “Architecture, Urban Development and the Yugoslavisation of Belgrade 1918-1941”, Centropa 9 (2) (May 2009), pp. 126-127. 31 Аleksandar Ignjаtоvić, Јugоslоvеnstvо u аrhitеkturi, 109-110. 271 Influence of the Ottoman Architechture Just like Branislav Kojić, Toma T. Sokolesku was a Romanian architect who greatly contributed to the development of the national style. His work was mostly inspired by the seventeenth- to eighteenth-century Brâncovenesc style. The building which he designed for Mr. Gheorghe Bogdan in Ploieşti during the mid-1920s reflects a specific reinterpretation of national architectural style with its window types and roof eaves that resemble Yugoslavian folklorism. Another one of Socolescu’s works, the Toboc building, also in Ploieşti, has a pair of bay-window–balconies and a four-slope roof. Beside residential architecture, Toma Socolescu designed the Town Hall of Pauleşti in 1939 that represents how similar were tendencies were in the search for a new national style in Romania and Yugoslavia. Among the Romanian architects whose work reflects influence of Ottoman architecture was Paul Smarandescu. He mainly designed residential houses and villas. Some of his most interesting works are the Bortinovski house, built in 1930, and Villa Sanda from 1934. Both of them were strongly influenced by konak architecture, especially in elements like wooden doksats and four-slope roofs with overhanging eaves. Villa Constantin Pandele belongs to the same group of residences, and it was designed by Dimitri Ghiulamila in 1938. 32 Architecture from that period created models of ethnic nationalism with a characteristically architectural language which led to the discovery of vernacular culture that has been convincingly applied to neo-national styles. On the other hand, the self-promotional style of monumental classicism turned out to be a slightly more efficient ideological tool,33 which proved to be the case both in Yugoslavia and Turkey. In Turkey Mustafa Kemal Atatürk supported the actualization of architectural heritage from the Ottoman period, while discreetly rejecting Ottoman domes, arches, and tile decoration in the national style. He preferred turning to Ottoman, or to be more precise, “Turkish” houses instead as an alternative source for both modern and national architecture, pointing out the significance of its role in political propaganda. The word “Ottoman” in fact had, at least over the past, come to mean Muslim Turkish.34 The new nation was being founded upon new norms that celebrated Turkish 32 Grigore Ionescu, Istoria Arhitecturii in România II [History of Architecture in Romania II], Editura Academiei Republicii Socialiste România, Bukureşti 1965, pp. 461-476. 33 Shona Kallestrup, “Romanian ‘National Style’ and the 1906 Bucharest Jubilee Exhibition”, Journal of Design History 15 (3) (2002), pp. 149-160. 34 Carel Bertram, Imagining the Turkish House, p. 88. 272 Vladana Putnik nationalism in contrast to an Ottoman identity, and adopted a Western-oriented, secular, and modern political system in contrast to an Islamic model. For instance, Ankara’s architectural heritage has some interesting examples of Ottoman domestic architecture with houses built out of wooden frames filled in with brickwork. The city, however, rose to prominence when Mustafa Kemal Atatürk chose the city as the site for Turkey’s new capital in 1923. The designation of Ankara as the capital city to replace Istanbul was itself a declaration of the triumph of the new secular nationalist ideology advanced by Atatürk against Ottomanism, which was centered in Istanbul. Similarly, the monuments and statues placed in significant city spaces stand as testaments to the victory of the official nation. It was important that Ankara did not bear any significant marks of Islam and had not played a significant role in either Ottoman or Islamic history.35 As a planned city, Ankara has some of the best examples of Turkish Republican architecture. The architecture from this period intentionaly refers to an exclusively Turkish past, including in its vocablulary large overhanging eaves and simplified Seljuk-type stonework. Arif Hikmet Koyunoğlu was one of the architects who hoped that the traditional Turkish house would become an inspiration for a new national style of architecture. Therefore, his work is very much similar to folklorism. Koyunoğlu attempted to maintain a national identity while mimicking Western civilization. In 1928, he designed and finished, at his own expense, a model Turkish room in the Turkish Hearth Association Building in the new capital of Ankara.36 This room, which was the centerpiece of the Turkish Hearth Society Headquarters, was in the style of, but not a replica of, a guest room of a seventeenth — or eighteenth — century konak. For example, it had an upper row of stained glass windows that are representative of the eighteenth century, a ceiling decorated with wood inlay (göbekli tavan), recessed shelves and niches framed in arabesque (hücre), and a wall fireplace (ocak). Atatürk himself was very much involved in conceptualizing the building, and it was he who suggested that it should have a “Turkish Room” based on the old wooden house, thus aligning this house with a specifically Turkish identity.37 Only a few years later, in 1931, this now symbolic “Turkish Room” appeared in a private space, in a modernized konak, or mansion in the upscale area of Şişli in 35 Alev Cinar, Modernity, Islam, and Secularism in Turkey: Bodies, Places, and Time, University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis 2005, pp. 100-104. 36 Carel Bertram, Imagining the Turkish House, p. 3. 37 Ibid., pp. 66-69. 273 Influence of the Ottoman Architechture Istanbul. Ay Hanim Efendi’s Turkish room was meant to be a real room in a real konak. It is furnished with traditional Turkish bench seating (sedirs) along the walls, although there was also some nineteenth-century furniture, and Turkish rugs and tiles on the floor.38 In 1934 the architect Sedad Hakki Eldem began his now famous seminar on national architecture at the Fine Arts Academy in Istanbul, which he organized to study the style and typology of the Turkish house as the definitive element of a national style. He analyzed and synthesized information he had gathered during his research in order to understand the concept of the Turkish house by forming a set of typologies, such as room placement, window types, and roof eaves, which he considered to be their common and thus essential characteristics. It was these typologies that were to be made available as a resource for a national style.39 In 1936, Eldem built a home for Atatürk’s close friend, Ahmet Ağaoğlu, in Maçka, below Nişantaşi, the neighborhood near Şişli in Istanbul. It was a house within the modernist, “kübik”40 vision but one in which he carefully incorporated formal elements of the Turkish house. Another residence by Eldem, the Ayaşli Yali, on the Bosphorus, built in 1938, was more identifiably “Turkish” and praised for its local character. It was built for Münevver Ayaşli, a novelist who knew the life of the old yalis and wrote about them. As a part of a modernized Bosphorus Yali, its facade was characterized by a row of uniform windows, which became a signature of Eldem’s architecture and were to reappear in his work throughout the following decades.41 The political and economic relationship between the Kingdom of Yugoslavia and the Republic of Turkey grew stronger during mid-1920s. King Aleksandar I Karađorđević and Mustafa Kemal Atatürk developed a friendship based on mutual respect and interest. An unusual gesture derived from this relationship. In the beginning of the 1930s, Atatürk made a gift of land to the Kingdom of Yugoslavia located in the elite city quarter Çankaya. In 1932, the Yugoslav Ministry of Construction organized a contest for erecting the Yugoslav embassy. Kosta J. Jovanović won first prize with a design that reflected a traditional civic mansion in folkloristic manner. The architecture of 38 Ibid., pp. 71-73. 39 Ibid., p. 202. 40 The term “kübik” refers to a specific type of modernist konak, often built in concrete in Turkey during the interwar period. 41 Ibid., p. 206. 274 Vladana Putnik the embassy emulates the style, form, and concept of Dedinje residences. This clearly indicates that the Balkan townhouse was ideal for showing the ideology of primordial Yugoslavism though its structure. It was also an actual equal to the “desirable” Turkish house and therefore fit perfectly into the modern Turkish architecture of Ankara. The Yugoslav embassy reflected, in the best way, how important the political and cultural relations between the Kingdom of Yugoslavia and the Republic of Turkey were.42 Affirmation or rejection of folklorism depended on the political situation in the country. The most important issue was for whom was that architecture designed and to whom this picture about Yugoslav identity was presented. Depending on these parameters, the styles varied from Serbian-byzantine style to folklorism. At the same time, other countries in the Balkans, especially ones that were once part of the Ottoman Empire but also others who had been under its cultural influence, preferred a similar architectural approach. We can see that in about the same period there was a tendency to design Turkish rooms, both in Kingdom of Yugoslavia and Turkey. There is a pattern that can be followed in these countries and the purpose of these spaces was to reconstruct elements derived from classical Ottoman Architecture in order to consolidate different nations and confessions on a higher level (which was the Yugoslavian case) or to claim the Ottoman past for the new Turkish present,43 as was Attatürk’s main political goal. Branislav Kojić’s contribution to the promotion of Balkan and Ottoman architectural heritage was of the equal significance as was Socolescu’s in Romania, or Koyunoğlu’s and Eldem’s in Turkey. Stylistic and linguistic unification of the building types of the Ottoman town, despite regional vernacular differences and with an appropriate iconography, could fulfill the concept of “blood and soil”. The sense of singularity and unity that was essential to the construction of a nation was relevant not only to the people, but also to the land upon which they lived. The multiethnic and multireligious population that had lived in the Ottoman Empire during the past centuries began to be called Turkish by 1928 due to the ideology of Turkism and Turkish nationalism. Jews, Christian Greeks, and Christian Armenians, as well as Muslims of various ethnicities, lived in the same type of housing during the Ottoman period.44 This implies the creation 42 Aleksandar Kadijević, “O arhitekturi jugoslovenskog poslanstva u Ankari” [On the Architecture of the Yugoslav Diplomatic Mission in Ankara], Nasleđe 11 (2010), pp. 56-62. 43 Carel Bertram, Imagining the Turkish House, p. 71. 44 Ibid., p. 202. 275 Influence of the Ottoman Architechture of a sense of unified territory that became a vital component of nation building. Cities, with their urban spaces, took center stage during the interwar period and created a new sense of nationhood with various nationalist projects. Therefore, folklorism with its Ottoman architectural elements undeniably played an important role for Serbian architectural development. 276 List of Participants List of Participants Dr. Dušan I. Sindik: Historian, Belgrade. Recent publications: Vladimir Mošin, Sima Ćirković, Dušan Sindik (eds.), Zbornik srednjovekovnih ćiriličkih povelja Srbije, Bosne, Dubrovnika, Istorijski institut Beograd, Beograd, 2011, 652 p.; “Osvrt na crkveno – pravne odredbe Baranjskog zbornika”, Izvori srpskog prava XVI, Srpska akademija nauka i umetnosti, Odeljenje društvenih nauka, pp. 199-204, Beograd, 2009; “Zanimljivosti iz zivota grofa Save Vladislavića”, Glas Srpske akademije nauka i umetnosti CDXX, Odeljenje istorijskih nauka, knj. 16, Beograd 2012, pp. 197-208. Prof. Yaron Ben-Naeh: History of the Jewish People and Contemporary Jewry Department, Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Recent publications: Jews In the Realm of the Sultans: Ottoman Jewry in the Seventeenth Century, Mohr-Siebeck Press, Tübingen 2008; Yaron Ben-Naeh & Richard Wittmann, Everyday Life Realities in the Haskoy Quarter of 17th-Century Istanbul, E.J. Brill, Leiden. (300 pp. In press); Nuh Arslantaş & Yaron Ben-Naeh, Ibranice Anonim bir kronik, Türk Tarih Kurumu, Ankara 2012 (= An Anonymous Hebrew Chronicle on the Ottoman Sultans. Turkish, English, Hebrew. 150 pp. In press). Prof. Dr. Ioannis Zelepos: Institute for Byzantine Studies, Byzantine Art History and Neo-Hellenism, Ludwig-Maximilians-University Munich Recent publications: Orthodoxe Eiferer im osmanischen Südosteuropa: Die Kollyvadenbewegung (1750-1820) und ihr Beitrag zu den Auseinandersetzungen um Tradition, Aufklärung und Identität. Balkanologische Veröffentlichungen Bd. 56, Harrassowitz-Verlag Wiesbaden 2012, 428 p.; “‘Unser orientalisch-christliches Geschlecht’ – Zur Formierung eines osmanisch-orthodoxen Identitätskonzepts in der zweiten Hälfte des 18. Jahrhunderts”, in Maria Oikonomou, Maria A. Stassinaopoulou and Ioannis Zelepos (eds), Griechische Dimensionen südosteuropäischer Kultur 277 List of Participants seit dem 18. Jahrhundert, Peter-Lang-Verlag, Frankfurt a.M. 2011, pp. 111- 124.; “Vampirglaube und Orthodoxe Kirche im osmanischen Südosteuropa: Ein Fallbeispiel für die Ambivalenzen vorsäkularer Rationalisierungsprozesse”, in Andreas Helmedach, Markus Koller, Konrad Petrovszky and Stefan Rohewald (eds.), Das osmanische Europa. Methoden und Perspektiven der Frühneuzeitforschung zu Südosteuropa, Eudora-Verlag, Leipzig 2014, pp. 363-381. Dr. Katja Šmid: University of Salamanca. Recent publications: El ‘Séfer Méšec betí’ de Eliézer Papo: Ritos y costumbres sabáticas de los sefardíes de Bosnia, Consejo Superior de Investigasion Scientifica, Madrid 2012, 332 p.; “Las enseñanzas de rabí Eli‘ézer”, Ladinar 6 (2012), pp. 9-32; “Leyes de pureza ritual en judeoespañol: entre la normativa rabínica y las prácticas de las mujeres”, Sefarad 72 (2012), pp. 389-429. Dr Vladimir Jovanović: The Institute of History, Belgrade. Recent publications: Secret Police of the Principality of Serbia [in Serbian], Belgrade, 2012, 185 p.; “The State Sponsored Meal – the Hospital ration in the Kingdom of Serbia, by the end of 19th Century”, Мешовита грађа 31 (2010), pp. 215-236; “Persecution of Tramps as a Control Measure of the Urban Space in the Kingdom of Serbia” [in Serbian], in Bojana Miljković-Katić (ed.), The Spatial Planning in Southeastern Europe until the Second World War, Belgrade 2011, pp. 451-477. Dr. Gila Hadar: Jewish History Department, Haifa University. Recent publications: “The Jews of Saloniki – Space and Time in Saloniki on the Eve of World War II, and the Expulsion and Destruction of Salonika Jewry, 1939-1945”, Moreshet: The Holocaust Studies and Research Center, 4 (Winter 2006), pp. 41-79; “Jewish Tobacco Workers in Salonika: Gender and Family in the Context of Social and Ethnic Strife”, in Amila Butrović and Irvin Cemil Schick (eds.), Women in the Ottoman Balkans: Gender, Culture and History, I.B.Tauris, London, New York 2007, pp. 127-152; “Gender Representation on the Dark Side of Qidushin: Between North Morocco and the Balkans (Monastir)”, El Presente: Studies in Sephardic Culture, Ben-Gurion University, Moshe David Gaon Center, 2 (2009), pp. 139-156. 278 List of Participants Prof. David M. Bunis: Department of Hebrew and Jewish Languages, Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Recent publications: “Writing More and Less ‘Jewishly’ in Judezmo and Yiddish”, Journal of Jewish Languages 1 (2013), pp. 9-75; “The Whole Hebrew Reading Tradition of Ottoman Judezmo Speakers: The Medieval Iberian Roots”, Hispania Judaica Bulletin 9 (2013), pp. 15-67; “Shem Tov Semo, Yosef Kalwo, and Judezmo Fiction in Nineteenth-Century Vienna”, in Michael Studemund-Halévy, Christian Liebl, Ivana Vučina Simović (eds.), Sefarad an der Donau: Lengua y literatura de los sefardíes en tierras de los Habsburgo, Barcelona: Tirocinio 2013, pp. 39-146. Dr. Ivana Vučina Simović: Department of Spanish Language and Hispanic Literatures, University of Kragujevac (Serbia). Recent publications: Jelena Filipović and Ivana Vučina Simović, Ethnic Identity and Language Shift in the Belgrade Sephardic Community [in Serbian], Zavod za udžbenike, Beograd, 2009, 251 p.; Jelena Filipović and Ivana Vučina Simović, “El judeoespañol de Belgrado (Serbia): Un caso paradigmático de desplazamiento lingüístico en los Balcanes”, Hispania 95 (2012), pp. 495-508; “Sources écrites séfarades sur le territoire de l’ex-Yougoslavie: classification dans une perspective sociolinguistique”, in Soufiane Rouissi and Ana Štulić-Etchevers (eds.), Recensement, analyse et traitement numérique des sources écrites pour les études séfarades, Presses Universitaires de Bordeaux, Bordeaux 2013, pp. 47-68. Prof. Alisa Meyuhas Ginio: Department of History, Tel Aviv University. Recent publications: “El Mecam Locez de Rabbi Yacakov Khulí (Julí) (1730): Un comentario en Ladino al libro de Génesis”, in Ignacio Arbellano & Ruth Fine (eds.), La Biblia en la literatura del siglo de oro’, BÁH – Biblioteca Áurea Hispánica, 56, Universidad de Navarra. Iberoamericana, Vervuert 2010, pp. 191-206; “Olas migratorias de judíos y conversos desde la Península Ibérica hacia el Imperio Otomano en los siglos XV y XVI”, El Olivo 34 (2010), pp. 79-92; “The History of the Mecam Locez: A Ladino Commentary on the Bible”, European Judaism. A Journal for the New Europe, Leo Baeck College, 43, no. 2 (2010), pp. 49-60. 279 List of Participants Prof. Krinka Vidaković-Petrov: Institute of Literature and Art, Belgrade. Recent publications: Aspects de la culture des Juifs espagnols dans l’espace yougoslave XVI-XX siecles, nouvelle édition revue et augmentée, co-édition Alliance Israélite Universelle et Collection “El mundo Djudeo-Espagnol”, Paris 2012, 618 p.; “La presse séfarade de Belgrade et Sarajevo de 1888 à 1941”, in Soufiane Rouissi, Ana Štulić-Etchevers (eds.), Recensement, analyse et traitement numérique des sources écrites pour les études séfarades, Bordeaux, Presses Universitaires de Bordeaux, 2013, pp. 69-96; “The Role of Vienna in the Renewal of Sephardic Culture in Serbia and Bosnia”, in Michael Studemund-Hálevy, Christian Liebl, Ivana Simović Vučina (eds.), Sefarad an der Donau. Lenguas y literatura de los sefardíes en tierras de los Habsburgo, Tirocinio (Colección Fuente clara. Estudios de cultura sefardí, 23), Barcelona, 2013, pp. 327-340. Prof. Zoran Rakić: Department of Art History, Faculty of Philosophy, University of Belgrade. Published Books: Radul – a Serbian Painter of the Seventeenth Century [in Serbian], Novi Sad 1998, 297 p.; The Churches of St. Demetrius and St. Sava of Serbia in Chilandar [in Serbian], Novi Sad 2008, 263 p.; The Serbian Miniature of the 16th and 17th Century [in Serbian], Century, Belgrade 2012, 356 p. Prof. Saša Brajović: Department of Art History, Faculty of Philosophy, University of Belgrade. Published books: In Mary’s Garden. The Blessed Virgin and Boka Kotorska – Baroque Piety of Western Christianity [in Serbian], Belgrade 2006; The Renaissance Self and Portraiture [in Serbian], Belgrade 2009; Imaginary Gardens of Hubert Robert [in Serbian], Belgrade 2012. Prof. Nenad Makuljević: Department of Art History, Faculty of Philosophy, University of Belgrade. Recent publications: Art and National Idea in the 19th Century: System of the European and Serbian Visual Culture in the Service of Nation [in Serbian], Beograd 2006; (editor) Sacred topography of Negotin Krajina (Serbian), Negotin 2012; “From Ideology to Universal Principles. Art History and Visual Culture of the Balkans in the Ottoman Empire”, Jaynie Anderson (ed.) Crossing Cultures: Conflict, Migration and Convergence, The Miegunyah Press, 2009, pp. 99-101. 280 List of Participants Irena Ćirović, M. A.: The Institute of History, Belgrade. Recent publications: “For the Purpose of the Political Argumentation: The Image of the Woman from the Balkans in the Itinerary by Adelina Poline Irby and Georgina Mure McKenzie” [in Serbian], in Djordje S. Kostić (ed.), Evropska slika balkanske žene, Kragujevac 2009, pp. 64-85; “The Nartex as Women’s Space in the Church of St Nicholas in Zemun” [in Serbian], Saopštenja Republičkog zavoda za zaštitu spomenika kulture 42 (2010), pp. 299-318; “Gender, War and Imagery of the Balkans”, in Tanja Zimmermann and Aleksandar Jakir (eds.), Europe and the Balkans. Decades of “Europeanization”?, Königshausen & Neumann, Würzburg, forthcoming. Vladana Putnik: Department of History of Art, Faculty of Philosophy, University of Belgrade. Recent publications: “Folklorism in Belgrade architecture (1918-1950)”, Godišnjak grada Beograda 57 (2011); “Aesthetics and the Role of Memorial Parks in Yugoslavia on the Example of the Memorial Complex Kadinjača”, forthcoming. 281 List of Participants 282 Guidelines for preparing a Manuscript for Publication Guidelines for preparing a Manuscript for Publication Peer Review Each article will be sent to two professional lectors for evaluation. The final article will be accepted only after inserting the corrections which the lectors demanded. Language editing Each article will be sent to a professional language editor. The edited article will be sent to the author for approval. Please prepare your manuscript for publication in El Prezente according to the following Guidelines: Length 15 pages (about 5,000 words) Spaces Paragraph – double space between paragraphs. Lines – 1.5 spaces in text Fonts Use one of the fonts mentioned below: Arial Unicode MS (preferable for a multilingual paper and/or a paper using many special signs) Times New Roman (Both of these fonts offer Unicode Hebrew as well as English; please contact us for further directions) Papers using fonts (MAC or otherwise) which are not readable on PC computers (MAC or otherwise) will be returned for revision. Font Size Body: 12 points Footnotes: 10 points Headings: 14-16 points 283 Guidelines for preparing a Manuscript for Publication Graphic Elements You may combine graphic elements in BMP, JPEG, GIF, PNG format and Excel tables (Microsoft office package) or Calc tables (OpenOffice.org office package). Combined graphic elements (pictures, graphs, external tables) are to be attached as a separate file. Copyright regulations Obtaining permission to use published pictures or other graphic material is the responsibility of the author. Notes system Please pay attention! All the bibliography should be included as footnotes at the bottom of the page, not in the text itself and not as a list at the end of the article. Repeated items: please refer to above notes (see following instructions). Notes are to be inserted as footnotes: Author’s full name, title, publishing house, place, date. Please see the following examples: A book Martha Himmelfarb, Tours of Hell, Fortress Press, Philadelphia 1983. Bruno Bettelheim, The Uses of Enchantment, Knopf, New York 1980, p. 77. Different volumes of the same book Menahem Stern (ed.), Greek and Latin Authors on Jews and Judaism, vol. 1, From Herodotus to Plutarch, The Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, Jerusalem 1976. A chapter from a book Robert Alter, The Invention of Hebrew Prose, University of Washington Press, Seattle and London 1988, “Realism Without Vernacular”, pp. 69-95. A series (if translated, add name of translator and language) Ernst Robert Curtius, European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages, trans. From German by Willard R. Trask, Bollingen Series 36, Princeton University Press, Princeton, N.J. 1953. An anthology Geoffrey H. Hartman & Sanford Budik (eds.), Midrash and Literature, Yale University Press, New Haven and London 1986. 284 Guidelines for preparing a Manuscript for Publication An article in an anthology Joseph Dan, “Midrash and the Dawn of Kabbalah”, in Geoffrey H. Hartman & Sanford Budik (eds.), Midrash and Literature, Yale University Press, New Haven and London 1986, pp. 127-140. An article in a journal Barbara Mann, “Modernism and the Zionist Uncanny: Reading the Old Cemetery in Tel Aviv”, Representations 69 (2000), pp. 63-95. A translated title when the original is in another language Eli Yassif, “The Influence of ‘Ose Pele’ on Jewish Folk Literature” [in Hebrew], Jerusalem Studies in Jewish Folklore 3 (1982), pp. 47-67. Transcription, when there is no official translation of the title in the publication Dan Miron, Bodedim be-mo’adam [Lonely in their Time], Am Oved, Tel Aviv 1987. Entries: Encyclopedia Stefan Krakowski, ‘Kielce’, Encyclopedia Judaica, vol. 9, Keter, Jerusalem 1971, p. 245. M.A or PhD thesis Richard Simon, “Comedy, Suffering, and Human Existence”. Ph.D. dissertation, Stanford University, 1977, pp. 37-73. PhD and M.A thesis will appear with quotation marks as they are not published yet. Colon A formal introductory phrase, such as the following or thus, is generally followed by a colon. He told us the following: “Be straightforward”. (See also Comma.). Comma In lists of three or more items, the series comma should appear before words like “and” or “or”: fresh, canned, or frozen “That is” and “namely” as well as i.e. and e.g. should be set off by commas. Commas precede conjunctions, such as “and” and “but”, joining two main clauses. Commas do not precede the second verb in a sentence with a compound predicate, as in the following: He worked hard and received his reward. A comma is used before a quotation preceded said, replied, asked, and similar verbs. Jones says, “This is expected”. (See Colon, for usage with a formal introductory phrase.) 285 Guidelines for preparing a Manuscript for Publication Dashes The dash used within text is the em dash, with no space before or after. Example: He was quick—but careless—in his work. An en dash is used between ranges of numbers (e.g. 45-47). See section on numbers below. Date Format Month-Day-Year: January 4, 1960 In text, the year is preceded and followed by a comma: On January 4, 1960, I submitted a paper. Decades When referring to decades, no apostrophe comes between the year and s: The 1950s were mediocre. Footnotes-numbers 1) number placement The number is placed at the end of a clause or at the close of a sentence and comes after a comma or period. … all events.2 … “at the end”.3 2) No footnote number is to appear with a heading, with an article title, or with a subhead. A note applying to a whole article should be unnumbered (but marked with an asterisk) and placed at the foot of the first page, before any numbered notes. Refering to above notes Article: Dan, “Midrash” (Note 6) Book: Alter, The Invention (Note 7) Ibid., Idem Note: Ibid. takes a period; idem does not. Both are not italicized Ibid. should be used only to refer to the immediately preceding reference: 2) Jones, Happenings, p. 95. 3) Ibid. Numbers Numbers from one to ninety-nine should be written out and from 100 on given as numerals. All numerals, when appearing in a range of numbers, should be given in full: 8-20, 25-26, 100-107, 1010-1152 286 Guidelines for preparing a Manuscript for Publication Quotation Marks Quotation marks are to come outside other punctuation: He read “My First Vacation”. I said the word “apple”, and then repeated it. Quotations, Indented quotations—and their translations—should be indented as block quotes. Translation of a quotation in a language different than that of the article should appear immediately after the quotation and also be indented. If a quotation and its translation are very long, we recommend inserting them as parallel columns of corresponding lines. A Ladino quotation appearing in a Spanish-language article does not require translation except for words (such as Hebrew) that might pose a difficulty for the Spanish reader. The translation of those words should appear as a footnote at the bottom of the page. Spelling American spelling. Articles written in Hebrew Titles of books should appear in bold. An abstract Please add an abstract of your paper 150-200 words written in English and in Hebrew (if possible). The abstract will be published as a part of the introduction to the volume. Personal Information Please add a separate sheet including updated personal information: Full name, title, institutional affiliation, mail address, e-mail address, phone numbers, 2-3 most recent publications or most important ones to be published in our “list of participants”. Submission Please submit your paper as a Word document via e-mail. Address: gaon@bgu.ac.il 287 Guidelines for preparing a Manuscript for Publication RULES OF TRANSLITERATION FOR HEBREW TEXTS The following rules are based on the recommendations of the Academy of the Hebrew Language, with certain modifications. In order to make the transliteration as accurate as possible, but at the same time to keep it as simple as possible, we have opted to omit certain distinctions, such as: dageš qal in letters gimel, dalet and taw, or a distinction between samex and sin sĕmalit. Most of the signs in the list can be found in the font Times New Romans Special G. The contributors which do not have it in their position can receive it from the editorial. CONSONANTS Aleph should be transliterated when it appears in the middle of ’ ‫א‬ a word, as in cases: Me’ir (‫)מאיר‬, ne’dar (‫)נאדר‬, etc. Aleph at the beginning of a word, as in the name Ahăron (‫)אהרן‬, should not be transliterated, as well as any other silent (i.e. unpronounced) aleph, like the one in the word rišon (‫)ראשון‬. However, though, initial aleph after one-letter prepositions should be transliterated, for example ha’adam (‫)האדם‬, ba’adam (‫)באדם‬, še’ăni (‫)שאני‬. b ‫ּב‬ v ‫ב‬ g ‫ ג‬,‫ּג‬ d ‫ ד‬,‫ּד‬ Final unpronounced he should not be transliterated, as for example h ‫ה‬ in the name Sara (‫)שרה‬. Final he with mappiq, however, should be transliterated like any other pronounced he. For example: Nogah (‫)נ ֹג ַּה‬ When waw serves only as mater lectionis (carrier) for the vocals w ‫ו‬ <o> and <u>, as, for example, in proper names Yosef (‫ )יוסף‬and Yĕhuda (‫)יהודה‬, it should not be transliterated. In every other situation it is to be presented with “w”. z ‫ז‬ ḥ ‫ח‬ ṭ ‫ט‬ When yod serves only as mater lectionis (carrier) for the vocals y ‫י‬ <e> and <i>, as, for example, in Bĕne Yisra’el (‫ )בני ישראל‬or Gil (‫)גיל‬, it should not be transliterated. In every other situation it is to be presented with “y”. 288 Guidelines for preparing a Manuscript for Publication k ‫ּכ‬ x ‫ ך‬,‫כ‬ l ‫ל‬ m ‫ ם‬,‫מ‬ n ‫ ן‬,‫נ‬ s ‫ ׂש‬,‫ס‬ ʿAyin in any position should be transliterated as superscript c. c ‫ע‬ p ‫ּפ‬ f ‫ ף‬,‫פ‬ ṣ, ts ‫ ץ‬,‫צ‬ q ‫ק‬ r ‫ר‬ š, sh ‫ׁש‬ t ‫ ת‬,‫ּת‬ VOCALS Qamaṣ a Pataḥ a Ḥăṭaf pataḥ ă Sere e Segol e Šĕwa nac ĕ Ḥăṭaf segol ĕ Ḥiriq male i Ḥiriq ḥaser i Ḥolam male o Ḥolam ḥaser o Qamaṣ qaṭan ŏ Ḥăṭaf qamaṣ ŏ Šuruq u Qubuṣ u 289 Guidelines for preparing a Manuscript for Publication ADDITIONAL RULES Dageš ḥazaq Dageš ḥazaq is to be is to be presented with a double letter, for example: Mĕnašše (‫)מנשה‬, Nahăriyya (‫ ;)נהריה‬except when following the definitive article and other one-letter prepositions. Examples: hašamayim instead of haššamayim (‫)השמים‬, miṭudela (‫ )מִּטּולָה‬instead of miṭṭudela, šekulam (‫ )ׁשּכלָם‬instead of šekkulam, šeyafuaḥ (ַ‫ )ׁשּיפּוח‬instead of šeyyafuaḥ. Otiyyot hašimmuš Otiyyot hašimmuš (one-letter conjunctions and prepositions) as well as definite article are not to be separated from words to which they are ascribed, or to be presented with capital letters. Personal names or toponyms are to be written with capital letters, following otiyyot hašimmuš, for example: bĕTel-Aviv (‫)בתל–אביב‬, Surya uMiṣrayim (‫ )סוריה ומצרים‬etc. In case of proper names which start with Yod and Šĕwa nac, after one-letter prepositions vocalized with <i>, ethymological Yod should be presented with capital “Y”, for example: biYrušalayim (‫ׁשלָי ִם‬ ָ ‫)ּבִירּו‬, wiYhuda (‫)ו ִיהּודה‬. 290 MEНOРA Зборник радова бр. 3 ‫איל פריזינטי‬ ‫מחקרים בתרבות יהודי ספרד‬ ‫כרך ז‬ Заједничка култура и појединачни идентитети: хришћани, Јевреји и муслимани на османском Балканy :‫תרבות משותפת וזהויות נבדלות‬ ‫ יהודים ומוסלמים בבלקן העות׳מאני‬,‫נוצרים‬ Уредници: Елиезер Папо • Ненад Макуљевић '‫ אליעזר פאפו • ננד מקולייביץ‬:‫עורכים‬ Децембар 2013 ‫טבת תשע"ב‬ ‫מרכז משה דוד גאון‬ ‫אוניברסיטת בן־גוריון בנגב‬ ‫לתרבות הלאדינו‬ Менора Филозофски факултет Универзитет у Београду 1 ‫וועדת המערכת‪ :‬תמר אלכסנדר‪ ,‬אוניברסיטת בן–גוריון בנגב; יעקב בן–טולילה‪ ,‬אוניברסיטת‬ ‫בן–גוריון בנגב‬ ‫מועצת המערכת‪ :‬ריפאת באלי‪ ,‬מרכז אלברט בנבניסטי לחקר יהודי ספרד ותרבותם (‪,)EPHE‬‬ ‫סורבון‪ ,‬פריז‪ ,‬והמרכז לחקר התרבות העות'מאנית–טורקית יהודית–ספרדית באיסטנבול; דוד‬ ‫בוניס‪ ,‬האוניברסיטה העברית בירושלים; וינפריד בוסה‪ ,‬האוניברסיטה החופשית‪ ,‬ברלין;‬ ‫פלומה דיאז מאס‪ ,‬המועצה המדעית העליונה של ספרד‪ ,‬מדריד; אורו אנהורי–ליברוביץ'‪,‬‬ ‫אוניברסיטת מונטריאל; עליזה מיוחס ג'יניאו‪ ,‬אוניברסיטת תל–אביב; לאורה מינרוויני‪,‬‬ ‫אוניברסיטת נאפולי; רנה מולכו‪ ,‬אוניברסיטת פנתאון‪ ,‬אתונה; אלדינה קינטנה‪ ,‬האוניברסיטה‬ ‫העברית בירושלים; שמואל רפאל‪ ,‬אוניברסיטת בר–אילן; אהרן רודריג‪ ,‬אוניברסיטת סטנפורד;‬ ‫מינה רוזן; אוניברסיטת חיפה; ביאטריס שמידט‪ ,‬אוניברסיטת באזל; אורה (רודריג) שורצולד‪,‬‬ ‫אוניברסיטת בר–אילן; אדווין סרוסי‪ ,‬האוניברסיטה העברית בירושלים; מיכאל שטודמונט–‬ ‫הלוי‪ ,‬אוניברסיטת המבורג‬ ‫מועצת המערכת‪ ,‬מנורה‪ :‬ווק דאוטוביץ'‪ ,‬יילנה ארדליין‪ ,‬ננד מקולייביץ' — המחלקה‬ ‫להיסטוריה של האמנות‪ ,‬הפקולטה לפילוסופיה‪ ,‬אוניברסיטת בלגרד; סווטלנה סמולצ'יץ'‬ ‫מקולייביץ' — אוניברסיטת מטרופולין‪ ,‬בלגרד; אליעזר פאפו‪ ,‬המחלקה לספרות עברית‪,‬‬ ‫אוניברסיטת בן–גוריון בנגב‬ ‫רכז מערכת‪ :‬צחי אקנין‬ ‫עורכת לשונית‪ :‬פרן זקבך‬ ‫עיצוב גרפי‪ :‬ספי עיצוב גרפי‬ ‫הדפסה‪ :‬יחידת הדפוס‪ ,‬אוניברסיטת בן–גוריון בנגב‬ ‫תמונת העטיפה‪ :‬פליקס קניץ‪" ,‬רחוב בשוק התורכי"‪ ,‬באדיבות הארכיון של האקדמיה הסרבית‬ ‫למדעים ואמנויות (‪)7901-II-003‬‬ ‫מסת"ב ‪978-965-91164-4-7‬‬ ‫‪© 2013‬‬ ‫כל הזכויות שמורות‬ ‫למרכז משה דוד גאון לתרבות הלאדינו‬ ‫אוניברסיטת בן־גוריון בנגב‪ ,‬באר שבע‬ ‫ישראל‬ ‫‪2‬‬