Tune in to a time when Jews, Arabs shared a language

Imagine an amazing radio-device of the future — one that can reach across space-time and capture every word that every human being has ever spoken. Twist the dials just right and you can tune in to the Sermon on the Mount, or your grandparents' first date, or a schoolroom in 15th-century Budapest. The grunts of the caveman, the delighted squeals of children at play, the whispered secrets of new lovers — they are all available on this radio. Scanning its channels creates a sound montage, an audio history of the human race.

Let's tune into the Jewish Channel on this radio; with a device like this, you can home in on any group you'd like. Here are Moses on Mount Sinai, the joyous songs of a wedding in prewar Poland, and Albert Einstein lecturing to a group of befuddled physicists.

You hear many languages on the Jewish Channel. In ancient Israel, you hear mostly Hebrew. Later, the primary language morphs into Aramaic, and then it becomes a Babel of different tongues — Persian, Spanish, Portuguese, French, German and many others. These days, you can hear a lot of Hebrew again. And a lot of English, too.

There are some languages that you will hear only on the Jewish Channel. One of them, for example, is Ladino, Judeo-Spanish, spoken by Jews from Spain, Greece and other Northern Mediterranean countries. Another is Yiddish, the earthy combination of Hebrew and German once spoken by the Jews of Northern and Central Europe. As you can hear, Yiddish comes in loud and strong until World War II. Then, it becomes quieter — during the Holocaust, the Nazis murdered the majority of the world's Yiddish speakers.

There are other Jewish languages, as well. Most are unique combinations of local vernaculars with Hebrew and other languages that Jews picked up as they wandered through history. There is Judeo-Turkish, Judeo-Greek, Judeo-Italian, and at one point there was even a fledgling Judeo-English.

But listen. Scanning through the years on the Jewish Channel, you'll notice that we hear one language more often than any other — and it's one that we haven't even mentioned yet. Listen carefully, and you'll notice that the most widely spoken language of Jews over the centuries is Arabic.

Arabic! Jump to the present-day and you'll find that very few Jews speak Arabic. But for many centuries, millions of Jews spoke Arabic every day. And not just a few words of it, mind you. More often than not, Arabic was their first language. Until recently, millions of Jews lived in Middle Eastern countries — Egypt, Syria, Iraq, Tunisia, Morocco and others. Many of them knew some Hebrew, but their daily conversations were in Arabic. For more than a thousand years, Jews thrived in these lands — they had Arabic names, they had Arab friends, and they often rose to high positions in Arab governments. Sometimes they spoke Judeo-Arabic, but just as often, they spoke the very same Arabic as their non-Jewish neighbors.

After the creation of the state of Israel in 1948, life became difficult for Jews in these countries, and most of them moved to Israel. There, children were taught to speak Hebrew, and Jewish knowledge of Arabic soon faded.

Still, there is something idyllic that we hear when we listen to the Jewish past. In contrast to the violence and hatred that so often and so tragically characterize Jewish-Arab relations today, in the past we hear Jews and Arabs speaking, laughing and bickering just the way friends should. If only we could recapture those moments — those shared words of friendship — today.

Our greatest visions of the future can often be what we see in the past. And when it comes to visions of future peace between Jews and Arabs, sometimes what we hear in the past can be pretty good, too.

Rabbi Mark S. Glickman leads Congregation Kol Shalom on Bainbridge Island and Congregation Kol Ami in Woodinville. Readers may

send feedback to faithcolumns@seattletimes.com