choice, usually including a donation for the academy, and could expect a response in return. At the same time, the gaons had to pursue allegiances actively, especially since communities could turn to another academy if they chose. We therefore find geonim playing several roles simultaneously as respected leaders invested with authority but also as fund-raisers charged with maintaining relations with supporters.
Soon after he had assumed the office of gaon of Sura, Sa‘adia Gaon sent a letter to Fustat in his homeland, Egypt.13 The letter contained teaching about the nature of the Oral Law and promised that another letter containing “warnings and rebukes” (hazharot ve-tokhaḥot) would follow in order to lead the community toward the proper observance of God’s law. Sa‘adia also asks the recipients to “inform us every day of your well-being, for it is the welfare of our soul. Without an army, there is no king, and without students, there is no honor for sages.” Sa‘adia had an intuitive sense for the reciprocal and interdependent nature of even the most hierarchically structured power relationships.
In the second letter, which contains the promised “warnings and rebukes,” Sa‘adia begins by addressing the recipients with various honorific terms and offering greetings from ranks of the academy. In the present letter, Sa‘adia describes the first as an iggeret teshurah, a “gift epistle.” He probably meant that, whereas most epistles by gaons were sent in response to petitions from communities that contained contributions for the academy, this “gift epistle” was unsolicited and was sent gratis. The gaon thus used the “gift” to initiate a cycle of exchange and to promote bonds of loyalty. While calling the letter a “gift” may have suggested that no specific—or, at least, monetary—repayment was expected, Sa‘adia knew that he could essentially impose a debt; following Mauss, we might say that there was no such thing as a “free gift.”14
Gaons often refer to letters received from distant communities (especially those that were accompanied by contributions) as gifts.15 What gaons offered their supporters in return was praise itself, which could take on various forms. Most ritually oriented was the mentioning of names during the recitation of the qadish prayer on the Sabbath (a practice that seems to relate to pronouncing the caliph’s name during the Friday khuṭba). Natan ha-Bavli relates, in connection with the installation of the exilarch, that when the cantor recited the qadish, he included the exilarch’s name and then offered separate blessings for the exilarch once again, the heads of the academies, the various cities that sent contributions to the academies, and individual philanthropists.16 One version of a qadish containing praise for an exilarch and gaons has come down to us (ENA 4053; Figure 6) and reveals that the practice involved more than simply citing names but also appending magnifying expressions of blessing and praise.17
Figure 6. Qadish, including praise for an exilarch. ENA 4053.1r. Image provided by the Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary.
Returning to the poem by Hai Gaon that opened Chapter 1, we see an obvious reciprocal exchange whereby the monetary gift was exchanged for praise; even if the composition of the panegyric may have been technically voluntary, it was in practice obligatory. Hai assures Yehudah that his monetary gift will gain him favor with God and that the money is being well spent. Yet, instead of offering simple gratitude, Hai composed for Yehudah the extensive and labor-intensive panegyric.18 The exchange between Yehudah and Hai was not (or, at least, not primarily) about the wedding of Yehudah’s son. The wedding served as a pretext for asserting the essential dynamics between the two men and the communities of Baghdad and Qairawan. Yehudah offered allegiance and financial support for the academy, and Hai offered Yehudah recognition and a panegyric that brought him fame among his contemporaries and, it would seem, for posterity. Without the panegyric, the cycle of exchange would have been incomplete, and the incommensurability of the “goods” ensured the cycle’s continuation. Finally, Hai not only improved the reputation of his addressee but also bolstered his own image by presenting himself as the authority of the Exile who possessed the authority to declare a holiday for his students.
Similarly, in a poem addressed to Avraham ha-Kohen ha-Rofe (first half of the eleventh century) that laments the death of the recipient’s father, the author opens: “My poem is set, metered, purified, and also ordered; in an eloquent tongue it is sent to the lord of my soul as a gift and offering (minḥah u-teshurah), to master Avraham ha-Kohen.”19 Although we cannot identify the author with certainty, it is likely that he was an associate of the Palestinian academy, perhaps even a gaon, since Jacob Mann identifies several other texts by prominent figures of this academy praising the recipient.20 The poem was not, of course, a gift for the deceased father but rather for the son, whose own honor was enhanced through the memorialization of his father’s merit and the brief praise included for the son.
Praising affiliates of the academy seems to have been one of the gaon’s many functions. In the following letter, Sherirah Gaon of Pumbedita addresses an aluf in Fustat (possibly Avraham Ben Sahlān) who had praised Shemariah Ben Elḥanan and seemingly sought confirmation from the gaon. Sherirah holds that the praise is justified, reviews Shemariah’s wisdom and rank within the academy, and adds a bit of hyperbole:
We have dwelled upon what you mentioned, aluf, may God preserve you, concerning praise of the magnificent, our esteemed, strong and steadfast Rav Shemariah, head of the Nehardeah row in our academy, may the Holy One give him strength, might, aid, and encourage him, son of Rav Elḥanan, may his memory be for a blessing, for he is the Head of the Order. For it is truly so and we more than anyone know his praiseworthy qualities; for who like him do we have from the East to the West? He is a lion in its pride, a great one of the academy. We know of the wonder of his wisdom and the inner chambers of his knowledge … and his strength in Torah beyond others. Were this not the case, we would not have appointed him to be the mashneh and we would not have made him head of the most honored of the three rows of the academy. To praise him is our first priority (shivḥo ‘adeinu rav min ha-kol).21
Praising affiliates was indeed a priority for the heads of the academies for at least two reasons: 1) in order to garner or reward loyalty among communal figures in satellite communities; and 2) to give communal figures something, an object of sorts, to signify their status as recognized by the gaon and before their communities. In the document above, we witness another dimension of the dynamic, which is the local aluf’s praise of Shemariah, which had to be corroborated by the gaon. Had the aluf praised someone whom the gaon did not deem worthy, it may have amounted to a kind of faux pas in the chain of command.
Not only individuals but also communities are told that they are praised far and wide (indeed, many “community panegyrics” have come down to us). In one letter by Shemuel Ben ‘Eli to the community of al-Kirkānī, we read: “We—whether we are near or far—are with you [pl.] in prayers and good blessings and we praise you and extol your ethical qualities (middot) among the communities. The elder among you we consider like a father, the young we consider like a brother and son, and all of you are most dear to us.”22
Offering and disseminating praise in exchange for loyalty was an expectation, and when the cycle of exchange was broken, it was noteworthy. In a Judeo-Arabic letter, Shemuel Ben ‘Eli writes concerning a community that had “abandoned the paths of our love” (hajaru subūl mawaddatina) by ceasing to send letters and charitable contributions (mabārrahum). Still, Ben ‘Eli writes, “we shall never cease invoking blessings unto God (al-du‘ā’) on their behalf and extending them blessings (muwāṣalatahum bi’l-berakhot) wherever we can. We even follow our courteous practice of spreading their praise (basṭ madḥihim) and commending them (batt shukrihim).”23 The fact that the head of the academy indicated that the
