No abstract

This book presents a previously untold story of Jewish-Muslim relations in modern Morocco, showing how law facilitated Jews' integration into the broader Moroccan society in which they lived. Morocco went through immense upheaval in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Through the experiences of a single Jewish family, the book charts how the law helped Jews to integrate into Muslim society—until colonial reforms abruptly curtailed their legal mobility. Drawing on a broad range of archival documents, the book expands our understanding of contemporary relations between Jews and Muslims and changes the way we think about Jewish history, the Middle East, and the nature of legal pluralism.

This article begins from the premise that the margins can shine light on the center, and uses the experience of Jews (thought of as marginal in the Islamic world) in Moroccan courts (similarly thought of as marginal in Islamic history) to tell a new story about orality and writing in Islamic law. Using archival evidence from nineteenth-century Morocco, I argue that, contrary to the prevailing historiography, written evidence was central to procedure in Moroccan shari‘a courts. Records of nineteenth-century lawsuits between Jews and Muslims show that not only were notarized documents regularly submitted in court, but they could outweigh oral testimony, traditionally thought of as the gold standard of evidence in Islam. The evidentiary practices of Moroccan shari‘a courts are supported by the jurisprudential literature of the Mālikī school of Sunni Islam, the only one prevalent in Morocco. These findings have particular relevance for the experience of non-Muslims in Islamic legal institutions. Scholars have generally assumed that Jews and Christians faced serious restrictions in their ability to present evidence in shari‘a courts, since they could not testify orally against Muslims. However, in Morocco Jews had equal access to notarized documents, and thus stood on a playing field that, theoretically at least, was level with their Muslim neighbors. More broadly, I explore ways in which old assumptions about the relationship of the written to the oral continue to pervade our understanding of Islamic law, and call for an approach that breaks down the dichotomy between writing and orality.

This chapter focuses on Nissim Shamama's move to Livorno, Italy. By Mediterranean standards, Livorno is a modern city. For Jews, Livorno counted among the most famous havens in Christendom. By the time Nissim arrived in 1871, however, Livorno's fortunes had declined steeply; as the geography of trade shifted to different shores and more ports became “free,” Livorno was eclipsed as the Mediterranean's commercial jewel. After moving to Livorno, Nissim kept up an intermittent correspondence with his former colleagues at the Bardo, but his brief notes contained only platitudes and formulaic greetings. Looking at his last will and testament, it seems that Nissim was counting on Italian law applying to his estate—thus suggesting that in this instance at least, he thought of himself as an Italian citizen.