The long shadow of Sabbetai Zevi

One of the most intriguing - and, to Darcy, most entertaining - episodes in the history of religion took place in the mid-17th century in the Ottoman Empire. Sabbetai Zevi was born in 1626 in present-day Izmir, studied the Talmud like a good Jewish boy, and also the Kabbalah. He married twice, was divorced twice and gradually began to work himself into a religious fervour. Jewish tradition apparently holds that the Messiah will come at the end of a long period of conflict. Europe was at the time going through one of its periods of self-immolation, now known as the Thirty Years' War. The 1640s and 1650s had also been a volatile time for the Ottoman Empire. Murad IV had died in 1640 at the age of 27 from what is believed to have been cirrhosis of the liver; Ibrahim I (commonly known as The Mad) had been deposed in 1648; and Mehmed IV had ascended to the throne at the age of seven, with real power in the hands of the Regent, his grandmother, the formidable Kösem. If the rapture index had been available in the 1640s, it would surely have risen above 160. Driven by this and by over-indulgence in the Kabbalah, Sabbetai Zevi revealed himself as the Messiah to a small group of friends in 1648.

To quote jewishencyclopedia.com, "His mode of revealing his mission was the pronouncing of the Tetragrammaton in Hebrew, an act which was allowed only to the high priest in the Sanctuary on the Day of Atonement." Audacity indeed. Though at first his claims received little publicity and less credence, he and his followers became enough of a pest to be encouraged to leave Izmir; by 1658, he was ensconced in Istanbul. By that time, developments in the Ottoman Empire had allowed for a recovery: Kösem had been removed from power in 1651 and replaced by the Sultan's mother, Turhan Hatice, who in turn had appointed one of the most capable men in Ottoman history, Mehmet Köprülü as Grand Vizier in 1656. However, calm and content had not magically re-appeared and the Ottomans were embroiled in a long and bitter war with Venice (and indirectly Spain), which would eventually lead to their capture of Crete after possibly the longest siege in history (1647-1669). The Ottomans were also at war with Transylvania, Austria and France. Times were indeed unsettled in Europe and within the Ottoman realm.

Sabbetai Zevi's increasingly popular movement was therefore still of less importance to the Ottomans than the more pressing threats from their infidel enemies. As such, the fabrication of supposedly ancient prophetic documents which identified him conclusively as the Messiah, or his travels through Salonika (the centre for many years of Jewry), Athens, and Jerusalem excited little action of the part of the authorities. The peripatetic Zevi arrived in Cairo in 1660, where he further increased the number of his supporters.

The supposedly cataclysmic year of 1666 was fast approaching. Zevi travelled back to Izmir via Jerusalem, and in Aleppo he publicly declared himself to be the Messiah, and was accepted as such in the main synagogue, amidst much blowing of shofar. By the time he had returned to Izmir, his fame had spread so wide that he was able to depose the chief rabbi of the city. And around this time, word that the Messiah had come began to spread not just among the Jews in Ottoman lands, but in other countries as well. Books were printed singing his praises as far afield as Amsterdam (from two of which come these illustrations, via jewishencyclopedia.com).

Tired of war and pogroms, European Jewry began to make preparations en masse for a removal to the Ottoman Empire in response to the Sabbatean declaration that was published in 1665 (66?):

"The first-begotten Son of God, Shabbethai Tebi, Messiah and Redeemer of the people of Israel, to all the sons of Israel, Peace! Since ye have been deemed worthy to behold the great day and the fulfilment of God's word by the Prophets, your lament and sorrow must be changed into joy, and your fasting into merriment; for ye shall weep no more. Rejoice with song and melody, and change the day formerly spent in sadness and sorrow into a day of jubilee, because I have appeared."

His enemies had not been idle, but not with great success. Attempts by the more orthodox rabbis to have him executed by the Ottomans failed in the face of Ottoman condescension. By 1666, Zevi's delusions had reached absurd levels. And so, when the Ottomans called him to Istanbul to give an accounting, he travelled readily, both he and his followers convinced of his physical and moral invulnerability, and possibly with the intention to fulfill a so-called prophecy that he would place the Sultan's crown on his own head.

Reality was rather different. The Ottomans had signed a favourable peace with Austria and France. Transylvania had again been subjugated. The siege of Candia was nearing its end. Fazil Ahmet Köprülü - the son of Mehmet - was proving to be as capable (if less vindictive) a Grand Vizier as his father. Internal reforms had buttressed both the Ottoman and Köprülü dynasties. Zevi was then arrested and held in close confinement. His fate was unknown to the vast majority of his followers who by this time were claiming all manner of miracles were occurring in the Ottoman capital.

The eventual realisation of his arrest little to divert these beliefs, for Zevi was treated with extreme courtesy and held in comfortable quarters. However, news of his continuing activities Brought before the Grand Vizier, who chastised him for provoking disorder and demanded to see proofs of miracles, Zevi was taken aback - especially as the Grand Vizier proposed to use him in target practice for the imperial guard. Should Zevi survive, the Grand Vizier declared, the Ottomans would be happy to recognise him as the Messiah.

Not surprisingly, Zevi there and then gave up his claim to be the Messiah. Why the Ottomans pressed him then to convert to Islam is not known. But he was, and he did. And was appointed a porter at the palace with the salary of 150 akçes (silver pieces, equal to roughly 1/110th of a Venetian ducat) a month, plus food and lodging. To Izmir Zevi wrote: "God has made me an Ishmaelite; He commanded, and it was done. The ninth day of my regeneration." The conversion of the would-be Messiah was met with joy by the Grand Rabbi (the Jewish exilarch in Istanbul) and dismay by those Jews that had believed Zevi. However, a large number of his followers, believing this to be part of the Messianic plan, also converted to Islam. Today their numbers must number in the hundreds of thousands, possibly millions.

Zevi's later life was less illustrious. He daily vacillated between submission to the Ottoman will and renewed messianic claims. He was eventually stripped of his modest position at the palace and banished to Ulcinj in modern-day Montenegro, where he died in 1676. (Darcy notes with interest that Ulcinj was also the town where the Ottomans held Cervantes capitve!) His burial place is not known, and some of his followers have assumed that he was bodily transported to Heaven, along the lines of Elijah and Mary. A commentator at jewishencyclopedia.com states: "Even he has accepted islam, and enjoyed a turkish appanage, in the house where he has lived, there is an hebraic altar with two David's stars." Darcy has no means of verifying this.

Sabbetai Zevi's legacy is certainly mixed. For one, mainstream Muslims view Sabbateans with suspicion that derives from his apparent willingness to change religion on a daily basis. The Turks today call Sabbateans "dönme" or turncoats, not a term of approbation. As for the Jews, any mention of his name is suffixed by a “yemach shemo,” may his name be blotted out.

Interesting then, that from a remove of over three centuries, Sabbetai Zevi still manages to stir up controversy. For that, see http://www.forward.com/articles/shrine-of-false-messiah-in-turkey-to-be-razed/. Darcy advises everyone to visit the house before it disappears.