529) Avraham Ibn Daud: Maimonides’ unspoken mentor?

14th century copy of Avraham Ibn Daud's Sefer haKabbalah

Introduction

Is it possible that Maimonides (1138-1204) had an unspoken mentor who has been largely overlooked by history? This ‘mentor’ may have been the twelfth-century philosopher, translator, and historian Avraham Ibn Daud (c. 1110–1180). “[H]istory has been rather unkind” (Fontaine 2023:1) to Avraham Ibn Daud. Yet, it seems that Maimonides was not the first to engage with Arabic Aristotelian rationalists, because just decades before,  Avraham Ibn Daud emerged as the pioneering rabbinic thinker who made: 

“the first attempt to integrate the teachings of the Muslim Aristotelians into a Jewish philosophic theology” (Fontaine 2007-8:23). 

It must be noted that Avraham Ibn Daud passed away when Maimonides was about twenty-five years old, yet Maimonides is often (perhaps unfairly) credited as the first to have achieved this theological synthesis that changed the face of Judaism. 

Avraham Ibn Daud, also known as Raavad I, should not be confused with two later Provençal scholars: Raavad II, the Talmudist R. Abraham ben Isaac of Narbonne (c.1080-1158), and his son-in-law, Raavad III, the Kabbalist R. Abraham ben David of Posquières (c.1125-1198), who was the father of R. Yitzchak the Blind. 

haEmunah haRamah as the precursor to Moreh Nevuchim?

In his haEmunah haRamah^[1] (Exalted Faith), Avraham Ibn Daud laid the intellectual foundation for Aristotelian philosophers like Maimonides, who built on him in his Moreh Nevuchim (Guide for the Perplexed), although never mentioning his name. Scholars like Resianne Fontaine have suggested that Maimonides’ oblique reference to “the later ones among [the Andalusians (=those from Southern Spain)]” may indeed allude to Avraham Ibn Daud: 

“As for the Andalusians among the people of our nation, all of them cling to the affirmations of the philosophers and incline to their opinions, in so far as these do not ruin the foundations of the Law…In many things concerning the scanty matter of which the later ones among them had knowledge they have therefore approximately the same doctrine that we set forth in this Treatise [Moreh Nevuchim]” (Maimonides, Moreh Nevuchim, I.71). 

It has also been suggested that the reason why Maimonides did not directly mention Avraham Ibn Daud (nor any other Medieval Jewish scholar) in his Moreh Nevuchim (nor, for that matter, in his Mishneh Torah either) may have been to present his writings as original (Fontaine 2007-8:9). 

Avraham Ibn Daud as Avendauth: the transfer of knowledge from East to West

Gad Freudenthal (2016:74) has argued that the celebrated Arabic-to-Latin translator, Avendauth, was indeed Avraham Ibn Daud. He suggests that Avraham Ibn Daud collaborated with Dominicus Gundissalinus—the archdeacon of Segovia Cathedral— who lived in Toledo and was responsible for transmitting Arabic philosophical and scientific knowledge to Latin-speaking Europe. Together, they worked on translations of important Arabic thinkers like Avicenna (Ibn Sina), Al-Farabi, and Al-Ghazali, whose thought still influences Western philosophy, theology, and ethics today. 

Avraham Ibn Daud as a chronicler

Besides his philosophical work haEmunah haRamah, Avraham Ibn Daud was also a chronicler, as evidenced by his Sefer haKabbalah (Book of Tradition), which presents “one of the most important records we possess of medieval Jewish history…[w]riting history before the invention of history” (Marvin 2023). The concept of 'history'—as a structured narrative of past events—is a relatively modern construct: 

“[P]remodern chronicles and other historiographical works are to be fundamentally distinguished in method from modern critical history, the roots of which lie in early modernity, perhaps as early as the seventeenth and eighteenth century, but do not blossom and bear fruit until the nineteenth, arguably the twentieth, century…In its partial truths, as we would identify them today, it also records kernels we know to reflect historical realities, as well as informing us about the communal-historical beliefs of Jewish elites in twelfth-century Spain” (Marvin 2023). 

Sefer haKabbalah was essentially a response to Karaite and Christian critiques, specifically of rabbinic Judaism, and a defence of the rabbinic tradition. It set about “defending a particular historical narrative from competing claims” (Krakowski 2008:221). In this sense, the work is more of a literary project designed to construct a persuasive outcome—and reinforce communal identity—than a factual presentation of events. Nevertheless, Sefer haKabbalah: 

“is by any measure one of the most important examples of medieval Jewish historical writing…[and] a chronicle of the Jewish people from creation to Ibn Dahud’s own day” (Krakowski 2008:219). 

Avraham Ibn Daud is perhaps best-known for his account of the Four Captives [See: Kotzk Blog: 092) THE 'FOUR CAPTIVES' - WHEN EVIDENCE CONFRONTS HISTORY:] 

For some reason, the twelfth century suddenly produced at least five Castilian chronicles within four decades, from 1109 to 1150, and Sefer haKabbalah—composed in 1161—was just another example of this emerging genre (Krakowski 2008:241). 

Avraham Ibn Daud as a mystic?

Gerson Cohen (1967) interprets Sefer haKabbalah very differently. He adopts an ‘anthropological historical’ approach, and argues that the Sefer haKabbalah was meant to be an esoteric and messianic book, providing comfort (nechama)—a term used frequently throughout the text—following the Almohad persecutions. Cohen even suggests the work contains a secret argument and points to an imminent date for the messianic redemption (Krakowski 2008:221). 

Intriguingly, Cohen, advocating an esoteric intention in the work (perhaps interpreting ‘Sefer haKabbalah,’ not as a book on ‘tradition=history,’ but on ‘mysticism’), notes that it contains many errors—and since rationalist Aristotelian writers are generally meticulous in their work, Avraham Ibn Daud could not have been a rationalist, but rather a mystic (Krakowski 2008:225). 

Parallels between haEmunah haRamah and Moreh Nevuchim

Avraham Ibn Daud’s philosophical work, haEmunah haRamah (Exalted Faith), has some surprising material that appears to have been directly appropriated by Maimonides in his Moreh Nevuchim (Guide for the Perplexed). 

Providence (Hashgacha)

Regarding the conceptualisation of individual Divine Providence (Hashgacha Peratit), Maimonides maintains that only humans who apply their minds are subject to Divine Providence—while the rest of humankind and certainly individual aspects of nature are not subject to Providence.[2] This well-known and controversial Maimonidean concept appears to directly reflect that of Avraham Ibn Daud, who first claimed that: 

“there is a correlation between providence and perfection, since they teach that providence is granted commensurately with the grade of human perfection attained by man” (Fontaine, 2007-8:13). 

This immediately invites scrutiny into whether the concept was an original contribution by Maimonides or a borrowing from Avraham Ibn Daud. 

Knowledge

Avraham Ibn Daud (haEmunah haRamah, 45.37-38) maintains that “love of God is achieved through knowledge” (Fontaine, 2007-8:14) and this too is reflected in Maimonides (Moreh Nevuchim, III.5). The preeminence of Sechel or knowledge is indeed a common theme in Maimonides, including his notion that one’s knowledge is the only aspect of the human to survive after death. 

‘Real attributes’ and ‘negative attributes’

Maimonides is widely recognised for introducing the philosophical idea that G-d cannot be described using ‘real attributes.’ In other words, saying “G-d is powerful” implies that G-d possesses qualities similar to humans, which contradicts His absolute uniqueness. Instead, Maimonides advocates for the use of ‘negative attributes,’ such as “G-d is not weak,” meaning that G-d is defined by what He is not, rather than by what He is. However, once again, this approach was already anticipated by Avraham Ibn Daud. Drawing on his interpretation of the verse “G-d is one” (Deuteronomy 6:4), Ibn Daud argued that the phrase does not merely mean “G-d is one and not two,” but rather that G-d is utterly unique and incomparable to anything else. In this sense, saying “G-d is one” is akin to saying “G-d is G-d”—a being beyond all human categories and not definable by real attributes. 

Evil as a non-entity

Regarding the notion that evil has “no maker,” Maimonides once again “comes close to Ibn Daud” (Fontaine, 2007–8:13) in viewing evil as a non-entity. Avraham Ibn Daud was among the first to argue that G-d did not create evil as an entity or a force. Instead, evil is understood as the absence or privation of good. Consequently, the idea of Satan as a devil-like being or the existence of independent evil forces plays no role in their cosmology. 

Corporeality

The uncompromising rejection of corporeality—a common belief even amongst some rabbis of that time, that G-d has some form of body—was another aspect in which Maimonides reflected Avraham Ibn Daud. The problem was with the common interpretation of terms tselem (image) and demut (likeness) in: “Then God said, ‘Let us make man in our image, after our likeness” (Genesis 1:26). 

“Ibn Daud explains how 'foolish people of our religion’ are confused by this verse since they consider that the term 'form' denotes 'body or face', implying that God made man corporeal after his own corporeality” (Fontaine, 2007–8:18). 

Maimonides (Moreh Nevuchim, I.1) discusses a notion of tselem and demut that is surprisingly reminiscent of Ibn Daud's interpretations. Both Avraham Ibn Daud and Maimonides also cite the same prooftext, I Samuel 6:5. 

A comparison of the introductions to their books

Avraham Ibn Daud writes in the Introduction to his haEmunah haRamah that his book is not for simple people who are not interested in philosophy. By the same token, his book is also not for those who are proficient in philosophical pursuits. Rather, his book is aimed at someone between those two extremes, who has begun to study philosophy but is confused or perplexed (navoch). This corresponds to the same audience Maimonides refers to in his Introduction to his Guide for the Perplexed (Moreh Nevuchim). Fontaine (2007-8:19) cautions us not to jump to conclusions about the similarities between navoch and Nevuchim, because both texts were originally written in Arabic, and it is possible that Solomon ben Lavi, who translated Avraham Ibn Daud’s haEmunah haRamah into Hebrew at the end of the fourteenth century, chose that word to correspond to the then known Hebrew title of Maimonides’ work, Moreh Nevuchim. 

Dual audiences

We often hear about the notion of Maimonides writing a ‘two-tiered text’ where he writes one thing for the masses (Hamon Am) and another for the intellectual elite. This concept of a ‘two-tiered text’ was, however, first presented in the writings of Avraham Ibn Daud. Although this ‘two-tiered’ distinction existed already within Muslim society, Avraham Ibn Daud was the first Jewish scholar to apply it to Jewish society and “employ it in a systematic philosophical exposition” (Fontaine 2007-8:20). Referring to the text of Torah, Avraham Ibn Daud often refers to the verses as remazim (allegories), and writes that: 

“many verses are phrased in accordance with what is suitable for the multitude, not in accordance with their true meaning” (Avraham Ibn Daud, haEmunah haRamah, 2.1-2). 

Dedications or literary devices?

Another similarity between the two Jewish Aristotelians is that Avraham Ibn Daud wrote his haEmunah haRamah for a particular student. Maimonides similarly informs his readers in his Morah Nevuchim that he wrote it specifically for one student, Yoseph ben Judah ibn Shimon of Ceuta, who was a student of Averroes (1126-1198)[3]—known for his commentaries on Aristotle and his defence of reason within Islamic thought. 

Adoption of a critical approach to philosophy

Avraham Ibn Duad applied a critical methodology to the prevailing philosophical posture of his era by emphasising the limits of human understanding. For example, regarding the structure of the heavenly spheres, he assertively but respectfully criticises the Islamic philosophers: 

“What they maintain about the cause of existence of the nine spheres and their movers are statements for which we have not found demonstrative proof” (Avraham Ibn Daud, haEmuna haRamah, 67.22-24). 

Strikingly, Maimonides reflects the exact sentiment, this time criticising Aristotle, and even maintains the same stylistic pattern as his predecessor, Avraham Ibn Daud: 

“[T]he opinions held by Aristotle regarding the causes of the motions of the spheres [. . .] are simple assertions for which no demonstration has been made” (Maimonides, Moreh Nevuchim, III.3). 

A word of caution

Although there are compelling equivalents between Avraham Ibn Daud’s writing and Maimonides’ later work, Fontaine remains cautious, because: 

“[I]t is hard to determine the true extent of Ibn Daud’s influence. Moreover, he too had his predecessors, and some of the similarities noted here can also be found in the works of earlier Jewish philosophers. In particular he appears to have been influenced by [Yehudah] Halevi,[4] whom he mentions [or alludes to -GM] as little as Maimonides mentions Ibn Daud” (Fontaine 2007-8:22). 

Was Maimonides an innovator or a successor?

Maimonides presented his work as entirely original and as a creatio ex nihilo, and yet we have seen instances where this does not seem to have been the case. These remarkable correlations between Maimonides and Avraham Ibn Duad led Fontaine to the conclusion that: 

“Maimonides elaborated on an existing model and followed the trend rather than set it. Since he has no claim to originality in that respect, this clearly places him in the category of an epigone [successor]” (Fontaine 2007-8:22). 

Yet, Fontaine is quick to point out that such classifications are anachronistic because they apply modern definitions to medieval authors who would have understood the concept of ‘originality’ very differently from the way we do today. This means that: 

“The contrast between precursor and epigone is therefore less stark than might be assumed, and the relation between the two should not be viewed as a strict divide” (Fontaine 2007-8:26). 

Ultimately, the most intriguing question remains whether or not Maimonides was even familiar with Avraham Ibn Daud’s heEmunha haRamah? 

“There is as yet no definitive answer to this question…because we are not well in formed about Maimonides’ whereabouts in the 1160s, so we cannot know whether he had the opportunity to come across Ibn Daud’s book” (Fontaine 2023:187). 

We do know that later rabbis, like Yosef Albo (d.1444), “made direct use of Ibn Daud’s philosophical work [haEmunah haRamah]” in his Sefer haIkarim (Fonaine 2023:188), but the empirical question remains regarding Maimonides’ knowledge of Avraham Ibn Daud’s work, haEmunah haRamah. 

Conclusion

We have explored several compelling parallels between Avraham Ibn Daud and Maimonides, and it seems increasingly difficult to argue that Maimonides was unaware of his philosophical predecessor. What recent scholarship has brought to light—perhaps more than ever before—is a reevaluation of Ibn Daud’s intellectual stature and contribution: 

“[Avraham Ibn Daud] has been ‘promoted’ from a ‘forerunner’ of Maimonides to a thinker worthy to be studied in his own right…[and] it is important to focus not only on the ‘big names’ in medieval Jewish thought, important as they may be, but that we need to study also the so-called ‘minor figures’” (Fontaine 2023:189). 

This shift invites a broader approach to the history of Jewish philosophy—one that recognises the foundational contributions of “minor figures” like Avraham Ibn Daud, whose work may have helped shape the very tradition Maimonides is often credited with defining. 

Whichever way we choose to look at it, Avraham Ibn Daud—or Raavad I—stands out as “the first to argue for the agreement between Judaism and rational philosophical thought” (Roth 2003:409).

 

Further Reading

For another overlooked pioneer of Jewish thought, see Kotzk Blog: 527) Neoplatonic echoes in Chassidic Mysticism for an account of Yitchak haYisraeli, similarly regarded as the first Medieval Jewish philosopher.

 

 

Bibliography

Cohen, G., 1967, Sefer Ha-qabbalah: The Book of Tradition by Abraham Ibn Dahud, JPS, Philadelphia.

Fontaine, R., 2007-2008, ‘Was Maimonides an Epigone?’, Studia Rosenthaliana, vol. 40, 9-26.

Fontaine, R., 2023, ‘The Study of Abraham Ibn Daud in the Past Three Decades: What Do We (Not) Know?’, Anales Del Seminario de Historia de la Filosofía, vol. 40, no. 1, 183–189.

Freudenthal, D., 2016, ‘Abraham Ibn Daud, Avendauth, Dominicus Gundissalinus and Practical Mathematics in Mid-Twelfth Century Toledo’, Aleph, vol. 16, no. 1, 61-106.

Krakowski, E., 2008, ‘On the Literary Character of Abraham Ibn Daud’s Sefer Ha-Qabbalah’, European Journal of Jewish Studies, vol. 1, no. 2, 219-247.

Marvin, T., 2023, Stories from Jewish History. Online source: https://trmarvin.substack.com/p/before-history-avraham-ibn-daud-and-819. Retrieved 04 November 2025.

Roth, N., 2003, ‘Abraham Ibn Daud’, in E. Michael Gerli, ed., Medieval Iberia: An Encyclopedia, Routledge, London and New York, 409-410.

---

[1] See: האמונה הרמה. I thank Rabbi Reuven Chaim Klein for this valuable source.

[2] See section: ‘The debate over Divine Providence in Maimonidean thought’ in Kotzk Blog: 528) Rationalism, Mysticism and Binitarianism.

[3] Averoes was the leading proponent of Aristotelianism in the Islamic world. His detailed commentaries on Aristotle were so influential that he became known in the Latin West simply as “The Commentator.”

[4] Interestingly, Avraham Ibn Daud’s haEmunah haRamah has been regarded as a rationalist response to Yehuda haLevi’s anti-rationalist writings (Marvin 2023).