Mishnah Avodah Zarah 4:5 – The Faces of Effacement: Between Textual and Artistic Evidence
The deliberate effacement of visual artistic works is a universal phenomenon that transcends religious and cultural borders. Much of this effacement derives from a religious ideology that perceives in visual art elements of idolatry that must be eradicated in order to purify worship. Often, this objection centers on figural images, idolatrous or not, on the backdrop of the ancient Biblical injunction embodied in the second commandment that impacted wide spheres, beyond the Jewish world, influencing the Christian and Muslim worlds as well.
Thus, for example, about a decade ago the monumental statues of Buddha in Bamiyan, Afghanistan, were completely destroyed. The Taliban government explicated this action as the eradication of idolatry, in compliance with the laws of Islam.95 The Christian world too, experienced bitter strife revolving around the legitimacy of icons and religious imagery: during the eighth and ninth centuries the Iconoclastic Controversy raged within the Byzantine Empire, encompassing long periods of the imposition of iconoclastic policy expressed, inter alia, in the aggressive effacement of icons and images.
The Jewish world as well, has always contended with the question of the legitimate bounds of visual representation and, on rare occasions, has also taken intentional action involving the defacement of art.96 I will, in the following, explore the question of the affinity between texts and artistic-archeological findings through the test-case of the defacement of artistic works in Ancient Jewish society.
The article’s first section will provide a realistic framework for rabbinic sources that deal with the annulment of idolatry and the defacement of anthropomorphic and zoomorphic images. This will be accomplished through an investigation of the correspondence between the textual sources and contemporary artistic artifacts. The second section of the article will take the opposite approach: first, the phenomenon of iconoclasm in Jewish art, as expressed in the material findings, will be depicted. Next, this enigmatic phenomenon will be further elucidated through textual sources from the Jewish and Christian worlds.
1 The Annulment of Idolatry and the Effacement of Images during the First Centuries CE: Between the Rabbinic Sources and Archaeological Findings
The halakhic aspects of the use and manufacture of figural art were not a rabbinic preoccupation. Rabbinic interest was confined mainly to discussions relating to idolatrous works of art, a very widespread phenomenon that posed daily challenges for Jewish inhabitants of the Roman Empire. A non-figural stance evinced in the context of the laws of idolatry manifests in a practice called ‘the annulment of idolatry’, depicted in Tannaitic sources in regard to figural sculpture:
How is it [an idol] desecrated? If [a gentile] cut off the tip of its ear or the end of its nose or the tip of its finger, or battered it even though naught was broken off, he has desecrated it. If he spat in its face, or made water before it, or dragged it about, or threw filth at it, he has not desecrated it. If he sold it or gave it in pledge, Rabbi says: He has desecrated it. But the Sages say: He has not desecrated it.97
How does one nullify [an idol]?
R. Meir says: [It is not nullified] unless one will hit it with a hammer and do damage.
R. Shimon says: Even if one pushed it down and broke it and it fell, lo, this is an act of nullification.
The Mishnah determines that annulment inheres only through a physical action that damages the idol’s physical integrity, and not through an act of degradation. The Bavli’s elaboration of the Mishnah elucidates this stance, stating that degradation is a reversible action and that in times of trouble, a person can revert to his erstwhile beliefs even if he had previously degraded and cursed the idols. Physical damage, by contrast, is an irreversible action.99 That said, the physical damage mandated by the Mishnah is minimal and its significance apparently symbolic.
The Tosefta brings a dispute between Rabbi Meir, who calls for significant damage to the idol to effect its annulment (in distinction to the Mishna’s position) and Rabbi Shimon who posits that an act of degradation is sufficient. Seemingly, among the various options suggested in the Mishnah and the Tosefta, the positions in the first part of the Mishnah warrant special attention on account of their symbolic and minimalistic character. The Tosefta’s requirement of the idol’s physical impairment is easily appreciated on the backdrop of tensions between Paganism and Judaism. The Mishnah’s minimalist approach, however, requires further elucidation.
The Mishnah suggests two possible methods of inflicting physical damage to a figural statue so as to annul it: damaging the tips of its extremities or effacement and obliteration of its form, even without diminishing the statue. The Bavli asks, regarding effacement: “Since there was no reduction in the mass of the material, how could it be annulled? Rabbi Zera said: Because he defaced its appearance” (
).100 Underlying this question is the premise that the annulment of idolatry necessitates a substantial physical
diminishment of the idol and therefore effacement, by flattening, does not qualify as annulment. Rabbi Zeira proposes distinguishing between effacement of the facial features and other body parts. Effacement of facial features and their obliteration can indeed be considered an act of annulment, as opposed to other parts of the statue, effacement of which offers no benefit. Rabbi Zeira’s position articulates a universal conception according to which facial features embody the image’s essentiality, lacking which its existence is voided.
The first part of the Mishnah contains an allusion to the two most prevalent sculpting techniques in the Roman world: carving - when the material is stone, and casting - when the material is metallic. Thus, the Mishnah’s words: “If a gentile cut off the tip of its ear or the end of its nose or the tip of its finger” relate to statues carved from stone, particularly marble sculptures that were ubiquitous in the Roman world; “... Battered it even though naught was broken off” relates to metal sculpture, particularly to the omnipresent bronze statues, the obliteration of which did not necessitate reduction of the material’s mass. These two actions, that inflict irreversible damage on the idol, preclude its use as an object of worship and thus render it fit for use and exploitation by Jews.101
Were the laws of the annulment of idolatry actually implemented in the context of Jewish reality during Antiquity? Only two cases attesting to this have hitherto come to light. A cache of nineteen bronze vessels, probably reused by Bar Kokhba’s warriors, was found in the Cave of Letters. The vessels’ handles - mostly jars - were decorated with reliefs that included images and faces (perhaps of deities) which were defaced and removed. Yadin suggested that the vessels were taken as booty from a Roman army unit that utilized them in ceremonial worship. Plausibly then, the defacement can be interpreted as an act of annulment of idolatry.102
The second case manifests in the 4th century monumental synagogue of Sardis in western Asia Minor. Many sculptures, mostly from the archaic period, were reused by their incorporation into the walls and floor of the synagogue during its construction. George Hanfmann notes, “... There are some indications that faces were mutilated prior to reuse”.103 An outstanding example of this phenomenon is a stele dating back to about the year 400 BCE incorporated into the construction of the stylobate in the peristyle courtyard of the synagogue. The stele is adorned with a relief featuring the two principal goddesses of Sardis, Artemis and Cybele, with two adherents at their side. The heads of the two goddesses were intentionally defaced. The absence of defacement to the heads of the two adherents at the goddesses’ side reinforces the suggestion that this was an act of annulment of idolatry directed solely at the deities, in order to render the stone fit for Jewish use.104
Another article from the synagogue that attests to this practice is a large marble table, carved in the late Hellenistic or early Roman style, reused in the prayer hall. The tables’ two legs are decorated with reliefs of eagles with wings spread wide, grasping lightning bolts - Zeus’ attribute - in their talons. The table was positioned in the prayer hall and served the Jewish community though the heads of the two eagles were defaced.105 Apparently, the Jewish community of Sardis incorporated architectural objects from the nearby area, though not before ensuring the defacement of the carved pagan depictions, in accordance with rabbinic stipulations regarding the annulment of idolatry.106
Rabbinic treatment of anthropomorphic and zoomorphic figural art in a non-pagan context was scant.107 Regarding the Tannaitic period, it seems that the limited discussion of the topic derived from an extremely meager visual culture as revealed by archaeological findings between the first and early third centuries CE. The Amoraic period, especially from the early 4th century on, saw a substantial flowering of Jewish art that included many figural representations. The lack of rabbinic treatment of this issue is therefore harder to elucidate.108 Possibly, figural art was pushed aside on the backdrop of external threats from pagan, and later Christian cultures, and was not perceived as a substantive threat. A rare reference to the defacement of a figural image is present in b. Avodah-Zarah 43b:
But there is the case of Rav Yeudah for whom others made [a design on a ring], and Samuel said to him, ‘You clever person! Blind its eyes!’ In this instance it was a ring whose signet was cut in relief and on account of suspicion [that it might be worshipped Samuel objected to it]; for it has been taught: It is forbidden to put on a signet-ring which is cut in relief but it is allowed to seal with it; and if the signet is cut in, one may put the ring on but not seal with it.
The discussion addresses a tradition (m. Rosh ha-Shanah 2:8) regarding models of the lunar phases used by Rabban Gamaliel to examine witnesses who came forth to attest to the new moon. The Babylonian Amoraim deliberate over this issue and seek halakhic justification for the use of visual representations of celestial bodies. One of the elucidations proposes that Rabban Gamaliel did not fashion these models himself; rather a gentile prepared them on his behalf. The redactor of this discussion incorporates a similar case in this context, whereby a gentile fashioned a figural decoration for a Jew: R. Yehuda owned a figural image created for him by a gentile. Shmuel, who glimpsed the image, believed that Rabbi Yehuda should blind (efface) its eyes so as to render it fit for use and to sanction any benefit from the figure.109 The baraita that deals with signet rings ‘cut in relief’ and ‘cut in’ is quoted in this context, allowing us to extrapolate that Rabbi Yehuda’s image was designed as a relief on the ring. The explanation for Shmuel’s cited objection to the wearing of the ring cut in relief is ‘on account of suspicion’ - an outward semblance of idolatry.
The salient question in the iconoclastic context of this discussion is the exact significance of the act of blinding the eyes as perceived by the Talmudic sages interpreting Shmuel’s statement. Bildstein suggests that Shmuel selected an act generally performed as a means of annulment to articulate a negative stance toward the carved image.110
This explanation, however, is seemingly lacking. The effacement of the eyes - beyond articulating a negative stance toward the image - actually annuls its physical existence. In this way it voids the prohibition against use of the object into which it is set. In other words, the principal motivation in the aforementioned case is to damage the physical integrity of the image, mandating the technical act intended to render the object fit for use. Articulating a negative stance towards the image does not seem to be a primary motivation. Moreover, Bildstein presumes, justifiably, that it is improbable that the carved image in Rabbi Yehuda’s signet seal was idolatrous,111 in which case there would be no reason for articulating a negative stance toward the depicted image. Thus, blinding the eyes annuls the vitality of the figural depiction that can henceforth be regarded as an inanimate, decorative motif from which benefit can legitimately be derived.
Do the material findings indicate a comparable operative method? Regarding the Talmudic period this is not the case. Figural art flourished in the Jewish world of the late Roman and Byzantine period’s, seemingly unchallenged. Counter-reactions first appeared at a later stage.
2 The Iconoclastic Phenomenon in Jewish Art during Late Antiquity
During Late Antiquity, a heightening of anti-figural trends in Jewish art is observable. The most extreme articulation of these trends inheres in the systematic defacement of anthropomorphic and zoomorphic images manifested in dozens of artistic works that adorned over twenty synagogue sites in the Land of Israel and its environs. The defacement is characterized by precise, targeted damage to the figural images, in both the mosaic carpets and the sculptural works. The characteristics of this iconoclastic phenomenon are illustrated through a number of representative works of art.
Two Palestinian synagogues that manifest defacement of images in their mosaic carpets are Na’aran and Susiya;112 interestingly, they manifest divergent methods of operation - the tesserae in the synagogue at Na’aran were detached and the damaged area underwent no repair, while at Susiya white or colored tesserae were inserted into the lacunae in the mosaic carpet. An additional anti-figural phenomenon evident at the Susiya synagogue is the substitution of a figural mosaic carpet that included a depiction of the zodiac (a small remnant remains) with an aniconic carpet featuring a central rosette.113 This synagogue exhibits iconoclastic activity in additional works of art, in four marble chancel screens embellished with engraving and relief. Zoomorphic figures carved into the screens were blurred by blows to the stone: in one case the figures were obfuscated in their entirety while in another case only the upper body was affected.114
It is in stone reliefs, however, that defacement of Jewish works of art is overwhelmingly expressed. These reliefs include both exterior ornamentation such as the series of carved lintels from the synagogue at Capernaum that were intensively effaced,115 as well as interior decorations such as the carved interior frieze set above the three rows of columns at the synagogue at Chorazin. 116 These two synagogues also attest to different conceptions regarding prohibited images: at Capernaum the effacers took pains to remove the carved figure in its entirety while at Chorazin they sufficed with the removal of the head or the upper body117 – closely embodying Shmuel’s position in the Bavli discussed above.118 Another work of art reveals that the interior furnishings, in addition to the structure of the building, were also subjected to defacement. The carved edges of the arm rests of the ‘Kathedra de-Moshe (= seat of Moses) uncovered at the Chorazin synagogue - a vulture on the right arm rest and a lion on the left arm rest – were shattered.119
The question of the effacers’ identity has been treated by scholars since the first findings came to light and it has generally been assumed that the effacers were Jewish.120 Renewed examination of the findings has corroborated this premise. At hand is selective effacement of figural images, carefully and meticulously performed, with the aim of inflicting minimum damage to the artistic works. This mode of operation characterizes a group that respects and values the synagogue structure and admits its sanctity. The aforementioned would indicate, with strong certainty, the work of Jewish iconoclastic groups.121
In the absence of any direct evidence, the time period of the iconoclastic activity in the synagogues remains unclear. That said, there are several hints that might be instructive in the elucidation of this issue. The selective and careful nature of the effacement alludes to the fact that it transpired while the structure was operational: it is, after all, pointless to operate in such a calculated and precise manner within an abandoned or ruined structure. This presumption establishes a clear terminus ante-quem for the effacement - the end of the structures’ operational period. We know that several of the aforementioned synagogues fell into disuse between the mid-eighth century and the early ninth century,122 suggesting the Umayyad or the early Abbasid periods as the latest conceivable period for iconoclastic activity. Additional factors, such as the mounting strength of aniconic trends in Jewish art from the seventh century onwards,123 alongside the aniconic Muslim tradition that predominated in the region from the mid-7th century,124 as well as similar defacement of zoomorphic and anthropomorphic figures revealed in Byzantine churches from the 7th and 8th centuries,125 support the premise that the effacement did indeed occur during the synagogues’ later phases.
With the evidence of this dating on the one hand, and rabbinic lack of interest in the issue of figural art on the other, it seems unlikely that the rabbinic outlook constituted an ideological background to this activity. Two later sources stand to reveal a more significant affinity with the iconoclastic phenomenon.
The first of these sources is Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Leviticus 26:1. The biblical verse runs as follows:
You shall not make idols for yourselves; neither a carved image nor a sacred pillar shall you rear up for yourselves; nor shall you set up an engraved stone in your land, to bow down to it; for I am the Lord your God.
Targum Pseuco-Jonathan, however, suggests this translation:
You shall not make idols for yourself; you shall not erect for yourself images or pillars to bow down (to them), and you shall not set up a figured stone in your land to bend down to it. However, you may put a pavement (stav) decorated with figures and images in the floors of your sanctuaries (miqdasheikhon), but not to bow down to it; for I am the Lord your God.127
The Targum augments the verse with two additions - in bolded letters above. The first is the phrase “to bow down (to them)”, articulating the Targum’s position that the prohibition against erecting an image or a pillar relates only to the prohibition against worship. Moreover, the term “image” (
) is oft-cited in the Targum in the context of pagan worship, translating the Biblical
terms “statue” (
) and “monument” (
).128 From here we can infer that erecting a statue or monument - even those bearing idolatrous motifs - for decorative purposes or for any purpose other than worship is permissible. This stance attenuates the broad Biblical injunction regarding the creation of such works, reducing it to a focused prohibition against worship alone.129
The second addition is a complete sentence inserted by the Targum that qualifies the message of the verse:
However, you may put a pavement (stav) decorated with figures and images in the floors of your sanctuaries (miqdasheikhon), but not to bow down to it.
This addition, as formulated here, is undocumented in any other known source and its meaning is ambiguous. Many scholars have deliberated over the meaning of the term stav (pavement), since the usual meaning, a covered colonnaded walkway, is incompatible. The next part of the sentence, in the floors of your sanctuaries, suggests ‘pavement’ as the most probable meaning of the word;130 since the most prevalent decorative technique used in ancient Jewish art were mosaic carpets this appears to be the said decorative medium.131
The term “your sanctuaries” (
) has also been interpreted in various manners by scholars: Krauss, following on traditional commentaries,
believes it should be interpreted in the singular, as a reference to the Jerusalem Temple.132 Fine suggests through conceptual association with the Temple, this text imagines a Temple precedent for the provision of decorated mosaics within late antique synagogues.133 Others suggest that “your sanctuaries” refers unambiguously to synagogues and thus to late antique synagogue flooring.134 The decorations that the Targum sought to render fit for use in the synagogue sphere are termed “figures and images” (
)135 allowing us to infer that the Targum viewed figurative works of art as legitimate synagogue decor, as long as they weren’t the object of veneration through prostration.
Without treatment of the source’s time period, however, its full-blown significance remains uncertain. Two suggestions have been offered regarding the concrete historical background reflected in this source: the Late Byzantine period and the beginning of the Islamic period in the Land of Israel. If we accept the first suggestion then the source reflects the de facto reality that prevailed in the synagogue and provides it with legitimization.136 If, however, we accept the later suggestion, then the Targum’s determination can be interpreted as polemical and conveys a dispute with anti-iconic conceptions that were gathering strength in that period.137 It seems that the second suggestion is preferable, both in regard to the historical circumstances and from a textual perspective. From a historical standpoint, this dating corresponds with the gradual disappearance of figurative art from the repertoire of synagogue decor. In conveying this polemical stance, the Targum seeks to defend a phenomenon that, though once pervasive and accepted, was increasingly perceived as illegitimate. Textually, since the Targum’s addendum to the verse is undocumented in other sources, it can be assumed that it appertains to the final phase of the Targum’s compilation, generally dated to the 8th century.138
Apparently then, this Targumic source can be construed as a rare piece of textual evidence hinting at new anti-figurative trends within Jewish society of the period.
Another literary source that can assist our understanding of the iconoclastic phenomenon in the ancient synagogues is the Christian Adverus Judaeos literature, composed during the 7th–9th centuries in the East.
Polemic was a known feature of Christian literature from its earliest days though during the seventh century this genre was revitalized with new discussions augmenting the existing dispute between Judaism and Christianity.139 One of these issues was the Christian veneration of the icons, in the wake of this worship’s significantly mounting hold on the Byzantine world from the second half of the sixth century.140 In contrast with its essential status in the Byzantine world, this worship was strenuously denounced by the Jewish side that perceived it as a manifestation of idolatry, while disputes on the topic also embraced the question of the use of figural art within a broader perspective. 141 This topic continued to preoccupy Christian theologians in the eighth and ninth centuries, not only within the empire itself, mired for over a century in the fierce struggle between Iconoclasts and Iconodules, but also in the Islamic dominated East, as reflected in polemical compositions, theological treatises etc.
We will thus examine a number of sources that incorporate the issue of figural art in their deliberations, and explore the image fashioned by the Christian authors to depict the Jewish persona in this context. Following that, clarification of how this image might have influenced the actions of Jewish iconoclast groups operating within the synagogues during that period will be attempted.
The most important seventh century discussion regarding the veneration of the icons is the Adversus Judaeos by Leontios Bishop of Neapolis in Cyprus, written during the first half of the century.142 The composition did not survive intact: we have segments of the fifth book quoted in a florilegium appended to the treatises of John of Damascus regarding the divine images, and in the protocols of the Second Council of Nicaea of 787.143 In these segments, Leontios puts forth a series of contentions that create a broad theological foundation for the justification and grounding of this worship, destined to serve many generations of subsequent Christian theologians.
Regarding the legitimacy of the use of figural art: Leontios stresses that historically, the first to incorporate figural art in acts of worship were the Jews themselves:
Listen to God telling Moses to fashion two images of the cherubim, engraved and of cast metal, to overshadow the mercy-seat. And again God showed Ezekiel the temple; it has, he said, engraved faces of lions and phoenixes, human beings and cherubim, from its foundation to the beamed work in the ceilings ...144
It appears then, that God himself commanded his believers to fashion figural objects to facilitate their worship of Him. Christian worship, therefore, travels a long-established path while the icons are the equivalent of the holy vessels of the Tabernacle and the Temple. This continuity furnishes the icons with legitimacy and validation:
If you want to condemn me concerning icons, you are condemning God in advance who commanded these things to be made to remind us of him.145
Another assertion central to Leontios’ doctrine concerns the concept of memory:
Therefore I depict delineate Christ and the sufferings of Christ in churches and houses ... and in every place, that seeing these things continually I may remember them and not forget them, as you always forgot the Lord your God.146
Leontios abandons defense to pursue an offensive tactic: not only are the charges hurled by Jews at Christians regarding icons unfounded, but the existence of the cross and the icons as an inseparable aspect of worship grants the Christian believer a significant advantage over the Jew.
Charles Barber discussed the issue of figural art and the veneration of the icons in the works of Leontios of Neapolis, concluding that these topics became a constituent component of the religious and spiritual identity of the Byzantine world of that time. He postulated that the composition’s polemical style reveals these issues as major points of contention between the Christian and Jewish worlds during the seventh century. He proposed viewing the effacement of images at the Na’aran synagogue as instructive regarding the intersection of these discussions with reality (Figs. 1–2).
... we should perhaps see the iconoclasm at Na’aran not only as a response to the Christian devotion to images but also as an assertion of a Jewish identity.147
Barber’s article is a pioneering study, in its attempt to examine the theoretical and ideological breeding ground of these Jewish iconoclastic currents, an issue that has hitherto been insufficiently treated by scholarly literature. This said, Barber restricted his treatment to one site - the synagogue at Na’aran - and to a limited time period of time, the seventh century; I believe that the discussion regarding these two parameters, time and location, should be expanded and amplified. From the perspective of location, the synagogue at Na’aran is not an isolated phenomenon but rather part of a more wide spread phenomenon that encompassed, as stated, over twenty sites throughout the region of the Land of Israel. From a chronological perspective, the seventh century is not a self-contained period but rather constitutes a prelude to a longer period extending to the ninth century. Furthermore, Leontios of Neapolis is merely the first Christian theologian in the East to address the issues of figural art and icons in the Jewish context. The forthcoming sources from the eighth and ninth centuries that will be examined next conform well to the estimated time-frame of iconoclastic activity, and contribute significantly to the completion of the picture and to a better comprehension of the iconoclastic activity within the ancient synagogues.
The first, The Disputation of Sergius the Stylite against a Jew, is the only anti-Jewish polemical work composed in Syriac between the sixth and twelfth centuries. Peter Hayman, who published the only manuscript of this work, believes that it should be dated to the period between 730–770, and that it was written near Emesa (Homs) in Syria.148 The disputation between Sergius and the Jew includes issues that were well known and typical to this genre such as the Sabbath, circumcision, and the Incarnation of Jesus, as well as the veneration of the cross, relics and icons - that was particularly characteristic to the period in question. The discussion of the latter opens with the most commonplace question attributed to Jews in this context: how does the veneration of the icons accord with the biblical injunction against idolatry, particularly the Second Commandment? In contrast to the accepted format found in other works, where the Christian explicates this issue, in this instance the author places the accepted answer in the mouth of the Jew:
Sergius (said): Now as a wise man and teacher of the law, tell me the reason for this commandment (= the second commandment) ...
The Jew (said): The reason for it was paganism, the multitude of gods ...
Sergius (said): And what were your people in that time? Were they pagans or not?
The Jew (said): I cannot say that they were not pagans... but for the most part paganism abounded amongst them ... this was the reason for this commandment.149
The Jew admits his forefathers’ inclination towards idolatry on account of which they were burdened with numerous prohibitions in this area. Sergius himself stresses repeatedly that it was the Jews who were typically inclined toward the sin of idolatry, noting specifically the period of the prophet Ezekiel. 150 The icons’ theological role in the Christian conception is explained by Sergius as a physical reminder element for believers and as an intervening element between the faithful and the sacred writings, through the sense of sight.151 It is interesting to note that though the author of this dialogue paints an image of a Jew willing to lend an ear to the opposing view, who as we have seen before, often partially explicates the Christian claims himself, the disputation does not end with Sergius’ success in convincing the Jew of the veracity of his views. Hayman considers this attestation to the authenticity of the disputation.152 This work exposes the matter of the icons as a serious bone of contention between Jews and Christians in Syria, absent any direct relationship to the Iconoclastic Controversy in Byzantium. Historically, its contribution to the elucidation of the relationship between Jews and Christians in Syria during the eighth century is significant.153
The second composition that openly confronts Judaism, and is entirely devoted to the topic of the veneration of icons is Theodore Abu Qurrah’s A Treatise on the Veneration of Images attributed to the first decade of the ninth century.154 Abu Qurrah (ca. 755-830) was a monk at the monastery of Mar Saba and was later appointed Bishop of Harran in Syria. Abu Qurrah was a prolific writer and his Arabic language corpus155 reflects the cultural shift that impacted Christian society in the Muslim world starting from the late eighth century.156
Abu Qurrah’s composition posits a well-reasoned doctrine that elucidates and justifies the Christian veneration of the icons. Abu Qurrah directs his words at the Melkite communities in Syria confronting Islam - the great challenge at their doorstep. He thus explicates what compelled him to compose his defense of the icons:
Abba Yannah, our brother, you who are with us in Edessa, have informed us that many Christians are abandoning the prostration to the icon of Christ our God ... Anti-Christians, especially ones claiming to have in hand a scripture sent down from God, are reprimanding them for their prostration to these icons ... You have asked us to compose a tract on this subject. In it we should return the reproach to those who reproach us for something in which there is no reproach.157
Subsequently it becomes clear from his writing that the ‘anti-Christians’ who attack the Christians on the issue of icons are non-other than the Muslims and Jews. Abu Qurrah admits the success of these attacks that have caused many Christians to abandon the veneration of the icons, thus stimulating the need to write the composition intended as a defense against Muslim and Jewish assertions.158 The fact that ten out of twenty four chapters of Abu Qurrah’s composition are devoted to theological contention with the Jewish conception is instructive regarding the status he accords his Jewish opponent.
The legitimacy of the materialization of God is the first subject Abu Qurrah raises to combat the Jewish (and Muslim) conception. To justify the worship of icons that visually depict the Divine in anthropomorphic form, he extrapolates from the visual to the verbal sphere, importing a long list of quotes from the Bible and the Koran that indicate the anthropomorphic figuration of God. He argues that no essential difference inheres between verbal and visual materializations of God, since the prophets of Israel incorporated both verbal messages and visual omens in their prophecy.159
One of the main discussions in the work deals with the question of the contradiction between the worship of the icons and the Biblical prohibitions of idolatry. He starts out by explaining that the Biblical injunction was restricted in time and place and was directed only at the people of Israel in the Biblical period that were inclined toward idolatry. This prohibition bears no relevance to Christian believers whose only intention is the glorification of God. The author thus enumerates Biblical events that signified aberrations from the Second Commandment’s injunction, whether by Divine commandment or by personal initiative: the commandment to Moses to fashion images of two Cherubs in the Tabernacle and the copper serpent, the monumental carved cherubs that Solomon introduced into the First Temple etc.160
I would like to conclude this discussion with a quote from John of Damascus’ Three Treatises on the Divine Images. These treatises, attributed to the second quarter of the eighth century,161 are considered the most significant written defense of icons of this period. This position during that period could be publicly voiced only outside the borders of Byzantium.
John’s treatises did not constitute a direct dialogue with the Jewish world. His declared intention was to extirpate the iconoclastic conception promulgated by the Byzantine emperor during that period and to restore the worship of the icons to its prior standing. Nevertheless, the use made by Byzantine Iconoclasts of Biblical verses and theological assertions that had always been identified as appertaining to the Jews, and that had won them epithets such as, ‘Judaizers’ and ‘godless Jews and enemies of the truth’,162 brought John into a veiled, indirect polemic with the Jewish conception as well.
In this context, John’s argument against his iconoclastic opponents is noteworthy:
If because of the law you prohibit images, watch that you keep the sabbath and are circumcised... and keep the whole law, and do not celebrate the Lord’s Pascha outside Jerusalem - but know that, if you keep the law Christ is no use to you ...’.163
This argument recurs in the first two treatises and I believe that the identification between the iconoclastic conception and Jewish identity cannot be more plainly expressed. Apparently then, the eighth and ninth century sources amplify and reinforce the image of the ‘iconoclastic’ Jew initially formulated by Leontios of Neapolis.
The contribution of the Adverus Judaeos literature to the understanding of Jewish iconoclasm is indirect yet significant nonetheless. It seems that the polemical framework to which most of the sources pertain demonstrates that the issue of the icons and its outgrowths stood at the heart of a significant controversy between Christians and Jews during the said period, requiring, as such, each side to be conversant with their adversary’s assertions as a pre-emptive safeguard. Therefore, it can safely be assumed that the Christian image did indeed seep into Jewish consciousness, in various ways.
What was the Jewish reaction to the iconoclastic image that adhered to them? Apparently, given the choice between denial and validation of this image, many opted for the latter. This can be attributed to the fact that the iconoclastic quality is not intrinsically negative and can thus be construed differently by the two sides: the iconophile Christians viewed it as reprehensible and inimical to their beliefs, while for the Jews, assuming the role of custodians of biblical law, iconoclasm was a means of expressing religious piety, reacting to earlier periods during which figural art was prevalent in the Jewish world.164 The adoption of the iconoclastic image and its active implementation in several synagogues assisted the reformulation of Jewish identity in a number of ways. From an internal Jewish standpoint this represented a challenge to previously prevalent liberal trends that had left their imprint on mosaics carpets and stone reliefs in Palestinian synagogues of the Byzantine period. Indeed, the later synagogues from the seventh century feature non-figural decor. From the standpoint of relations with the surrounding non-Jewish groups, the iconoclastic identity engendered differentiation and clear-cut separation between Jews and iconophile Christians on the one hand, and no less importantly, from the mid seventh century onward, it accorded with the new alternative regarding this issue posed by the Muslim world - total aniconism in religious art.165 Possibly, there were Jews who saw the Muslim conception as instrumental in their return to their primordial, authentic roots in respect to the literal implementation of the second commandment.
3 Conclusion
The subject of religiously inspired effacement of figural art embraces both ideological and material aspects; therefore, the integration of textual and artistic sources in this study is vital to a broad appreciation of this phenomenon. The juxtaposition of rabbinic literary sources with the material culture and daily reality does not evince an even picture. The practice of the annulment of idolatry is delineated in Tannaitic and Amoraic sources, on the halakhic-theoretical level as well as its day-to-day practice, in the depictions of sages who performed this commandment. Archaeologically, however, the phenomenon manifests in only two sites - separated by time, place and the divergent circumstances of the effacement’s execution. This finding precludes a determination of the extent to which the laws of the annulment of idolatry were implemented during the first centuries CE, and of how strictly the halakhic details were observed.
In contradistinction, the effacement of anthropomorphic and zoomorphic images on the backdrop of objections to figural art is scantly articulated during the Talmudic period. This silence, manifested in literary texts and in the material findings, is most conceivably explained by the absence of this phenomenon during this period. The abundance of contemporary artistic findings that also include a range of figural works supports this premise. During Late Antiquity and in the transition between the Byzantine and Muslim periods an iconoclastic phenomenon of the defacement of anthropomorphic and zoomorphic images in contemporary synagogues is apparent. This phenomenon reflects the emergence of new ideological trends among Jewish society in the Land of Israel. Unfortunately, the paucity of documentation regarding this change in contemporary textual sources mandated the examination of sources that might attest indirectly to these shifts. These Jewish and Christian texts contain a polemical nuance that might allude to the existence of heightened anti-figural conceptions among certain Jewish groups during this period.