As the only son of the great medieval Jewish philosopher Moses Maimonides, Abraham (1186-1237) followed in his father’s footsteps, serving as official head of Egypt’s Jewish community and its leading religious authority. In response to what he believed was a widespread spiritual crisis, he sought to reinvigorate Jewish piety by importing ideas and practice from Sufism, the mystical school of Islam then greatly influential in North Africa. This effort is the subject of a recent book by Elisha Russ-Fishbane. (Interview by Alan Brill.)

Historians of Jewish philosophy often consider it remarkable that the son of the great Maimonides—considered a champion of rationalism and moderation against mysticism and asceticism—would so blatantly stray from his father’s course and choose the mysticism of Sufism over the sober ideals of philosophy. The truth, as usual, is much more complicated.

Philosophy, in its medieval guise, was no less dedicated to personal liberation from physical attachments than was its Sufi counterpart. Mysticism, for its part, did not always entail a rejection of reason. In practical terms, Jewish philosophers and mystics of the medieval Islamic world advocated ways of life that were remarkably similar in orientation. . . .

Abraham . . . understood the path of [Sufi-influenced] pietism as the logical extension of the core principles of his father’s doctrine. That said, Abraham made far more extensive use of Sufism’s spiritual terminology than his father ever did, although there is [a scholarly] consensus that the father was not devoid of a modest Sufi vocabulary of his own. Even more meaningfully, Abraham embraced concrete Sufi practices within his own pietist circle and openly praised his Muslim counterparts, at times holding them up as a model for his own community.

Here at Mosaic, we’ve published quite a lot about many Arab states, but one that’s barely received mention is Oman, located at the southeastern corner of the Arabian Peninsula. The sultanate has stayed out of the recent conflicts of the Midde East, and is known to have sub-rosa relations with Israel; high-ranking Israeli officials have visited the country clandestinely, or at least with little fanfare. For precisely this reason, Oman has held itself out as an intermediary and host for negotiations. The then-secret talks that proceeded the Obama administration’s fateful nuclear negotiations with Iran took place in Oman. Ari Heistein explains the similar, and troubling, role Muscat is playing with regard to the Houthis in neighboring Yemen:

For more than three decades, Oman has served in the role of mediator for the resolution of disputes in Yemen. . . . Oman allows for a Houthi office in the capital, Muscat, reportedly numbering around 100 personnel, to operate from its territory for the purported function of diplomatic engagement. It is worth asking why the Houthis require such a large delegation for such limited engagement and whether there is any real value to engaging with the Houthis.

Thus far, efforts to negotiate with the Houthis have yielded very limited outcomes, primarily resulting in concessions from the Saudi-led coalition and partial de-escalation when it has served the terror group’s interests. Rarely, if ever, have the Houthis fully abided by their commitments after signing off on international agreements. Presumably, such meager results could have been achieved through other constellations that are less beneficial to the recently redesignated foreign terrorist organization.

In contrast, the malign and destabilizing Houthi activities in Oman are significant. They include: shipment of Iranian and Chinese weapons components [and] military-grade communications equipment via Oman to the Houthis; the smuggling of senior officials in and out of Houthi-controlled areas via Oman; and financial activities conducted by Houthi shell corporations to consolidate the regime’s control over Yemen’s economy and subsidize the regime.

With this in mind, there is good reason to suspect that the Houthi presence in Oman does more harm than good.