The Relationships Between Jews and Muslims in the Past and Present—Pedagogical Implications from an Islamic Religious Education Perspective in a German Context

Abstract

This article explores the historical and contemporary relationships between Jews and Muslims, with a focus on the implications for Islamic religious education. It highlights the complexity of Jewish–Muslim relations, characterized by periods of coexistence and conflict. Early Islamic history reveals an inclusive community of believers encompassing pious Jews and Christians, challenging modern perceptions of inherent antagonism. The article examines the evolution of these relationships, noting significant changes influenced by political dynamics. In Germany, political discourses further shape mutual perceptions, often exacerbating tensions between Jewish and Muslim communities. Educationally, the article advocates for addressing distorted perspectives and emphasizes the value of intertextual analysis of the Quran and the Torah.

1. Introduction

When examining the relationship between Jews and Muslims, it is often overshadowed by the issue of antisemitism, which is frequently misrepresented within the Muslim community as being deeply rooted in the past. However, the history of Jewish and Muslim relations is by no means one-dimensional. It is characterized by centuries of coexistence, as well as phases of conflict and persecution.

The beginnings of Muhammad’s activities are essential for understanding Jewish–Muslim relations. The majority of Muslim tradition holds that Muhammad intended to introduce a new religion called Islam in the seventh century, which was distinct from Christianity, Judaism, and other religions and beliefs. However, there is another interpretation of history that suggests that the Quranic findings allow for the assumption that Muhammad did not originally intend to found a new “religion” in the modern sense, but rather that the early community of believers included Christians and Jews (Donner 2010, pp. 69ff.).

The following outlines this historical perspective based on the analysis of Fred Donner. Subsequently, the later developments up to the present, which shape the relationship between Jews and Muslims, especially in Germany, are outlined. From these two poles, educational implications for contemporary educational processes are derived.

2. The Community of Believers During the Time of Muhammad

Muhammad lived during Late Antiquity, a time of transformation for the Greek–Roman and Iranian worlds (Donner 2010, p. 1). The Byzantine and Sassanid Empires dominated the Middle East, with Christianity rising to the status of a legal and then state religion under the Roman emperors, Constantine I and Theodosius I, although it experienced profound divisions (Donner 2010, pp. 9–10). Additionally, the emerging Christian antisemitism led to state discrimination against Jews (Donner 2010, p. 13).

In the Sassanid Empire, Zoroastrianism was predominant, supporting the ideals of universal rule and fostering a sense of superiority over other powers, including the Byzantines (Donner 2010, pp. 18, 20). Both empires experienced recurring conflicts that weakened their resources, leading to a peace treaty in 629 that restored lost territories to the Byzantines (Donner 2010, pp. 22–27). It was within this historical context that Muhammad’s movement emerged in Arabia.

Arabia, situated on the periphery of the great powers, Byzantium and the Sassanid Empire, was characterized by a social and political order centered around tribal and kinship ties. These bonds provided security and were closely linked to a locally rooted polytheism, manifested in the worship of specific deities at holy sites known as “Harams” (Donner 2010, pp. 28–30). In the sixth century, Arabia experienced an increasing spread of Judaism and Christianity.

The Jewish presence on the Arabian Peninsula can be traced back to pre-Christian times as a result of the dispersion of the Jewish people after the conquest of Jerusalem by the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar in 586 BCE. After the second destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans in 70 CE and the Bar Kokhba revolt in 135 CE, Jewish settlement intensified, particularly in northwest Arabia. Before Muhammad’s arrival in 622, Medina was mainly inhabited by Jewish tribes (Bobzin 2000, pp. 59–61).

Christianity was also widespread in Arabia, especially in Yemen, where it was established in the fourth century by Byzantine missionaries, as well as in eastern Arabia and along the northern borders with Syria and Iraq (Donner 2010, pp. 30–31). This religious diversity and the continuation of the concept of active prophecy formed the context for the life and work of Muhammad, who was born around 570 CE in Mecca (Donner 2010, p. 31).

Muhammad spent his life in the two cities of Mecca and Yathrib (later called Medina). Yathrib was a fertile oasis city inhabited by several clans, including significant Jewish tribes such as the Qaynuqa, Nadir, and Qurayza, who were engaged in both agriculture and craftsmanship. In contrast, Mecca, due to its rocky hills, offered little agricultural potential. Its significance lay instead in religious worship and trade. At the center of Mecca stood the Kaaba, dedicated to a pagan god and managed by Muhammad’s tribe, the Quraysh, who also dominated the city’s trade. These activities made Mecca an important religious center, attracting pilgrims and merchants from across the region (Donner 2010, pp. 35–37).

The question of the sources from which the life of Muhammad and the beliefs of the early Muslim community can be reconstructed is of central importance in scholarship. Within the Muslim tradition, the Quran is considered the primary source of information about the early days of Islam. However, scholars of Islamic studies often view this perspective critically. Nevertheless, numerous analyses support the assumption “that in fact the Qur’an did coalesce very early in the history of Muhammad’s community within no more than three decades of Muhammad’s death. […] Moreover, some of the Qur’an’s vocabulary suggests that the text, or significant parts of it, hailed from western Arabia. So we seem, after all, to be dealing with a Qur’an that is the product of the earliest stages in the life of the community in western Arabia” (Donner 2010, pp. 55–56). Consequently, it makes sense to closely adhere to the accounts that directly emerge from the Quranic text to obtain an authentic picture of early Islamic history.

Fred Donner emphasizes that the Quran predominantly addresses people that it refers to as “believers” (muʾminūn), a term that appears nearly a thousand times in the text. This designation contrasts with the later traditional Muslim narrative, which primarily labels Muhammad and his followers as “Muslims” (muslimūn, literally “those who submit to God”) and describes the movement as “Islam,” a term that occurs much less frequently in the Quran. The use of the term “Muslim” proves misleading when applied to the early phase of the community, as depicted in the Quran. About a century after Muhammad’s death, the Muslim tradition began to refer to Muhammad’s followers primarily as Muslims and attempted to explain the numerous passages that describe them as believers by using the terms synonymously. However, the distinction between “believers” (muʾminūn) and “Muslims” (muslimūn) in the Quran is significant and indicates that these terms cannot be used interchangeably, as later became customary. An illustrative example is provided by Surah 49:14, in which Bedouins claim to be believers, a claim the Quran rejects. Instead, it urges them to call themselves “submitters” (muslimūn) because true faith had not yet entered their hearts. This linguistic differentiation in the Quran suggests that the early community primarily understood itself as a community of “believers,” not “Muslims.” The frequent use of the phrase “O you who believe” underscores that the Quran’s address was directed at the convinced (Donner 2010, pp. 57–58).

The question arises as to who these “believers” were and what they believed in. It becomes clear from the Quran that they were called to recognize the unity of God. The Quran insists on strict monotheism and strongly condemns polytheism, which is related to the predominantly polytheistic beliefs in Muhammad’s surroundings in Mecca. The Quran also interprets the Christian doctrine known to it as tritheism, thus deeming it incompatible with the concept of the absolute unity of God.

Furthermore, the Quran places great importance on the belief in the Last Day. The ideas of revelation and prophecy are also central in the Quran. Additionally, belief in angels is emphasized, who act as God’s helpers, particularly in delivering revelation to the prophets (Donner 2010, pp. 59–60).

However, the Quran emphasizes that for true believers, it is not sufficient to merely accept these principles intellectually; rather, a pious life in accordance with these beliefs is required. The piety demanded by the Quran requires believers to continuously demonstrate their devotion to God through regular prayer, charity, fasting, good deeds, and charitable and humble behavior toward others, according to Donner. This emphasis on righteous behavior gives the movement of the believers a dual character. It values not only theological insight but also a pious way of life. A religious lifestyle is a common notion in the religious traditions of Late Antiquity in the Near East, but Muhammad’s vision of a life oriented toward God represents a fundamental innovation. Unlike the generally ascetic orientation of the Late Antique Christian tradition, particularly in Syria and Egypt, the Quran demands humility and warns against the dangers of wealth but also recognizes earthly pleasures as God’s blessings. This is particularly evident in verses that allow the enjoyment of the good things in life that God has granted, as long as it is done in moderation. The Quran emphasizes that marriage and child-rearing should be considered part of a pious life, which contrasts with the ascetic world renunciation of the contemporary Christian tradition. In this respect, the piety conveyed in the Quran is more similar to the notions of righteousness found in the Late Antique Jewish tradition (Donner 2010, pp. 61–68).

In the seventh century, the practices of piety described in the Quran were largely known in the Near East. However, they received a specific formulation in the Quran.

The earliest believers saw themselves as a distinct community of righteous monotheists, differentiating themselves from the surrounding, less rigorous, “sinful” monotheists as well as from polytheists through strict adherence to pious principles. Interestingly, as Donner points out, the earliest believers did not see themselves as followers of a new or separate religious movement. Rather, they viewed their message as a continuation of the teachings of earlier prophets, as emphasized by the Quran in verses like 46:9, where Muhammad sees himself not as an innovator but as a “clear warner.” “At this early stage in the history of the Believers’ movement, then, it seems that Jews or Christians who were sufficiently pious could, if they wished, have participated in it because they recognized God’s oneness already. Or, to put it the other way around, some of the early Believers were Christians or Jews—although surely not all were. The reason for this ‘confessionally open’ or ecumenical quality was simply that the basic ideas of the Believers and their insistence on observance of strict piety were in no way antithetical to the beliefs and practices of some Christians and Jews. Indeed, the Qur’an itself sometimes notes a certain parallelism between the Believers and the established monotheistic faiths (often lumped together by the Qur’an in the term ‘people of the book,’ ahl al-kitab; Q. 48:29)” (Donner 2010, p. 69).

Donner further explains that the Quran contains numerous passages indicating that pious individuals from among Christians and Jews could be considered part of the community of believers, regardless of their specific religious affiliation, solely based on their righteousness, as expressed in verses 3:199 or 3:113–16. The distinction between believers and unbelievers was thus not primarily based on religious boundaries but on personal commitment to God and adherence to His law. This concept broadened the definition of believers beyond traditional religious boundaries and included (non-Trinitarian) Christians, Jews, and newly converted pagans, whom Donner refers to as “Quranic monotheists,” each of whom should live according to the divine laws revealed to them: Jews according to the Torah, Christians according to the Gospel, and the new adherents according to the instructions of the Quran. The term “Muslim” used in the Quran refers to so-called “Quranic monotheists.” However, it is important to consider the terms “Muslim” and “Islam” in the context of the Quran more precisely, according to Donner (Donner 2010, p. 71).

Donner emphasizes that the conception of the early community of believers during Muhammad’s time, which included pious Christians and Jews, differs significantly from the portrayals in traditional Muslim sources of later periods. In the later Muslim tradition, which persists to the present day, the term “Islam” is understood as a specific religion distinctly separate from Christianity, Judaism, and other faiths. Accordingly, “Muslim” is used to refer to a follower of this specific religion. However, this interpretation does not align with the Quranic usage of the two terms (Donner 2010, p. 71).

An illustrative example of this, according to Donner, is the verse where Abraham is described as “neither Jew nor Christian, but a Muslim Hanif” (3:67). Here, “Muslim” is used adjectivally to qualify “Hanif,” which may be a pre-Islamic term for “monotheist.” In the Quran, “Muslim” thus refers to someone who submits to God’s will and acknowledges His unity, essentially a professing monotheist. “Islam,” in this context, also denotes professing monotheism in the sense of submission to God. In this sense, Abraham is described in the Quran as a “hanif muslim,” a professing, monotheistic Hanif. Therefore, in the Quranic usage, “Islam” and “Muslim” did not yet have the religiously divisive character that these terms carry today. They referred to a broader and more inclusive understanding of monotheism and were sometimes even applied to Christians and Jews, as other verses indicate (3:52, 3:83, 29:46) (Donner 2010, p. 71).

In summary, according to Donner, Muhammad initiated a pious religious movement that can be aptly described as the “Movement of Believers” due to the self-designation of its members. This movement placed a strong emphasis on a pious way of life and firmly rejected polytheism. Given that many inhabitants of the Near East at that time were already nominal monotheists, the original Movement of Believers can be best characterized as a “monotheistic reform movement” rather than an entirely new and independent religion. The Quran makes it clear that its message was addressed to people who understood themselves as believers, with membership in the community of believers not being tied to religious origin (Donner 2010, pp. 87–88).

Donner concludes that the interpretation of the early Islamic movement as having an ecumenical character, open to pious monotheists of all faiths, challenges us today to reconsider our understanding of the events during Muhammad’s life. In particular, stories about Muhammad’s conflicts with certain Jewish groups, such as the tragic events involving the Qurayza clan, should not be hastily interpreted as evidence of a generally anti-Jewish stance of his movement. Such conflicts could rather be attributed to specific political circumstances or the rejection of Muhammad’s prophetic status by these groups rather than a fundamental hostility toward Judaism. Similarly, it would be erroneous to infer from the punishment of his opponents from the Quraysh tribe that Muhammad was generally anti-Quraysh (Donner 2010, p. 74).

3. Later Developments up to the Present

Over the centuries, the relationships between Muslims and Jews have been significantly shaped by the respective political and social power dynamics, especially under Muslim rule, where Jews and Christians, as People of the Book, enjoyed a special status as religious minorities. These relationships varied depending on the time and region and were highly dependent on the respective Muslim rulers.

Antijudaism did not exist in medieval Islam, nor did modern antisemitism. However, there were indeed acts of violence in the medieval Muslim world, though not to the extent seen in medieval Europe.

The term “dhimma” describes an Islamic legal agreement that granted non-Muslim People of the Book (Jews, Christians, Sabians, and Zoroastrians) protection of life and property, as well as religious freedom, in exchange for the payment of a head tax. This agreement was first documented in the 680s. In the medieval period, rulers varied in their enforcement of discriminatory measures against Jews and Christians. Such measures did not exist in Muhammad’s time but were temporarily implemented and later lifted under subsequent dynasties like the Fatimids (909–1171). During the rise of the Berber Almohad dynasty in western North Africa (1121–1269), all non-Muslims were forced to convert to Islam or be killed, despite the Quranic commandment “There is no compulsion in religion” (2:256). This led many to disguise themselves or flee to the Christian kingdoms in the north and to eastern North Africa and Egypt (Meri 2016a, p. 21). Persecutions were also common in Iran under the Safavids (1501–1722) and the Qajar dynasty (1794–1925). From the tenth century onwards, Christians and Jews reached significant positions in Muslim societies, such as scribes, physicians, and occasionally even ministers (Meri 2016a, p. 21).

Although there were pogroms against Jews under Muslim rule, such extreme acts of violence were significantly less frequent than under Christian rule. Historically, Jews often sought refuge in Muslim-ruled areas to escape persecution by Christians. A prominent example of this is the reception of Jews in the Ottoman Empire after the Spanish Reconquista in the late fifteenth century. In 1492, the monarchs Ferdinand and Isabella forced Jews and Muslims in Spain to either convert to Christianity or face death. Many Jews found refuge in the Ottoman Empire and North Africa (Meri 2016a, p. 27).

It was not until the twentieth century that the perception of Jews by Muslims changed significantly, mainly due to the founding of the State of Israel. Influential in this regard was Sayyid Qutb with his work Our Battle with the Jews (Qutb [1950] 1989). He blamed “the Jews” in general for problems in the Islamic world and claimed that a Jewish conspiracy against Islam had existed since Muhammad’s time in Medina. Qutb’s writing, along with those of others like Yusuf al-Qaradawi, Amin al-Husseini, Ruhollah Khomeini, Necip Fazıl Kısakürek, and others, shaped the notion of an eternal conflict between Islam and Judaism and contributed to the spread of antisemitism in the Muslim world (Aafreedi 2019; Jikeli 2021; Rubinstein-Shemer 2017; Tibi 2012).

The conflict between Israel and Palestinian groups has led to highly polarizing debates and state-supported propaganda in Arab countries, Turkey, and Iran on a political level. This propaganda often features the demonization of the Jewish people, exacerbating tensions not only between the immediate parties involved but also on a broader international level.

This rise in antisemitism is directly linked to the increasing Jewish settlement of areas in the West Bank inhabited by Muslim communities and the associated tensions. The intrusion of religious arguments into this conflict can be seen as a development ex post, more a consequence than a cause of the growing tensions. In particular, the city of Jerusalem has gained increased religious and symbolic significance for Muslims over the course of the conflict, further deepening the complexity of relations between the two communities.

The current social and political situation in which Muslim and Jewish communities find themselves also influences mutual perceptions. In many countries, both groups experience various forms of discrimination. These shared experiences could lead to both solidarity and tensions, depending on how the groups perceive their own position in relation to the majority society and to each other.

Experiences of discrimination can also contribute to antisemitic attitudes among Muslims. The generalizations and suspicion often implied in discussions about “imported antisemitism” are counterproductive in the fight against antisemitism and can even exacerbate the issue. Such an approach risks becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Experiences of marginalization can inadvertently reinforce the narratives of Islamist groups that use victimization discourses to incite hostility toward Jews among Muslims. In particular, in certain subcultures of German Muslims, the rejection of Jews is misused as part of a community-building ideology. This is especially true for Muslims who adhere to a fundamentalist interpretation of Islamic teachings. Islamist actors skillfully exploit dissatisfaction within their communities to project blame for their own problems onto “the Jews” (cf. Ulfat and Mattern 2024).

In Germany, the relationship between Muslims and Jews is strongly influenced by the fields of tension within German political discourses. These fields of tension, often overlooked in discussions about the discrimination of Muslims and Jews, shape the sometimes seemingly paradoxical statements of different political camps regarding the relationship between Muslims and Jews in Germany and worldwide. The position that largely prevails in the bourgeois conservative camp approaches Jews with an awareness of historical guilt, handling public discourses and institutions in a very cautious and supportive manner. Political solidarity with Israel is the a priori that determines the opinions and political attitudes of this discourse. In contrast, Muslims are often expected to identify with the context of historical German guilt as a sign of successful integration and to ostentatiously distance themselves from any antisemitic and anti-Zionist perspectives (cf. Ulfat and Mattern 2024).

The positions of the discourses on the left political side, on the other hand, are characterized by an ambivalent attitude toward Israel and Judaism, which arises from the strong “anti-imperialist” thrust of these discourses. Initiated, among other things, by Israel’s wars with its neighbors and the protests and struggles of the Palestinians, which were followed with great sympathy by the Left in Germany, left-wing discourses view Israel with great skepticism and continue to categorize the country as an “imperialist power.’ Zionism is still often seen as a neocolonialist and repressive enterprise (Kloke 1990). The infusion of the Middle East conflict with religious motives and fundamentalist rhetoric has changed little about this basic finding.

Thus, it leads to the seemingly paradoxical result that left-wing discourses in Germany tend to support the “Muslim/Arab” side, while the bourgeois conservative discourses are staunch advocates of the “Jewish/Israeli” side. As a result, conflicts between Muslims and Jews get caught in the complex dynamics of the German political discourse landscape.

The power dynamics between and within the Jewish and Muslim communities are complex. On the one hand, there are global and local power structures that influence both groups, for example, the role of the State of Israel, the conflicts in the Middle East, or policies toward minorities in Europe. On the other hand, there are also power structures and competitions within the communities, as well as different religious or political currents, that can influence perceptions and interactions between the groups. Additionally, the historical entanglement of the non-migrant German society leads to very strong support or identification with the Jewish population, which in cases of conflict is perceived by Muslims as taking sides against the Muslim parts of society and thus a form of collaboration of Jews with the public authorities (cf. Ulfat and Mattern 2024).

4. Educational Implications

In the current research landscape, numerous works exist on an international level that deal with the historical interdependencies between Judaism and Islam (e.g., Meddeb and Sotra 2013; Meri 2016b) and the Middle East conflict (e.g., Spangler 2019). However, when focusing on works about Jewish–Muslim relations in Germany, especially in the postwar period, it becomes clear that there is hardly any relevant literature on this topic. In most cases, the available works are articles that address specific aspects (e.g., Brunner and Lavi 2009). Distorted perspectives on Jewish–Muslim relations are also apparent, which Iman Attia problematizes as follows: “Moreover, if the ‘Jewish’ and the ‘Muslim’ are referenced in the thematization of Muslim–Jewish history/histories, the unifying focus threatens to reproduce the naturalizing, essentializing, and dichotomizing undercomplexity that is part of the problem” (Attia 2020, p. 20). Despite the problem of such an artificial, dichotomous juxtaposition of “Jewish” and “Muslim,” Attia argues for considering Jewish–Muslim history/histories, particularly in Germany, to counter the socially often cited opposition of “Jewish” and “Muslim” and to reflect on “which perspectives other than the usual ones are possible” (Attia 2020, p. 21).

Accordingly, it is also important in the educational landscape to address these distorted perspectives on histories. There are various levels in which the diverse entanglements can be addressed: historically, at the level of the scriptures Torah and Quran and their exegesis, the Muslim and Jewish legal traditions (Sharia and Halacha), the intersections between Jewish and Muslim thought in philosophy, mysticism, education, and systematic theology (Kalam). But the present must not be overlooked either, on all levels, such as media (especially social media), politics, minority positions, migration, antisemitism, and anti-Muslim racism/Islamophobia, etc.

The following will focus on the interrelationships between the Quran and the Torah.

When we analyze the handling of their Holy Scriptures, the Torah and the Quran, by the believers, especially regarding the understanding of the nature of these scriptures (such as authorship and the question of whether they are created or uncreated), the language (Hebrew, Arabic), the contents, and methods of interpretation, as well as the aspects of written and oral transmission, numerous parallels, and connections, emerge. Shari L. Lowin and Nevin Reda have found that both the majority of Jews and Muslims recognize a divine authorship of their holy texts and attribute special significance to the languages in which these texts were originally written (Lowin and Reda 2016, pp. 57–58).

The contents of the Torah and the Quran often overlap by telling the stories of the same prophets and conveying similar laws and moral values. An interesting interaction between the texts of the Torah and the Quran occurs in exegesis, where the texts enrich each other. Early Muslim exegetes did not hesitate to consult material from the Torah and other Jewish and Christian scriptures, provided they had access to them. The corpus of texts that contains this exegetical material is referred to as “Isrāʾīliyyāt.” Like Hadiths, Isrāʾīliyyāt are reports with their own chains of transmission. These Isrāʾīliyyāt have influenced Islamic exegesis over centuries. At the same time, material of Muslim origin has also found its way into Jewish Midrash texts (Lowin and Reda 2016, pp. 69–70).

These interactions reflect how Jews and Muslims used each other’s traditions to give new meanings to their scriptures. On the other hand, polemics have also arisen, with each tradition accusing the other of falsification when asserting its own truth claims. In this diverse and constantly evolving intellectual environment, new approaches have emerged today that can negotiate differences and find meaningful connections between the scriptures, such as Torah–Quran intertextuality. This approach can be particularly useful for educational processes in schools (Lowin and Reda 2016, p. 71).

Interestingly, the Quran itself emphasizes the importance of earlier scriptures and gives Muhammad the following instruction: “If you are in doubt about what We have revealed to you, ask those who have read the Book before you. The truth has certainly come to you from your Lord, so never be among the doubters” (10:94). The Islamic tradition early on recognized the Torah as spiritually related. This recognition is based on the Muslim understanding that all the prophets mentioned in the Torah, as well as many of their teachings, are valid and invites intertextual engagement with prophetic depictions in the Quran and Torah.

An intertextual analysis of the Torah and the Quran reveals considerable potential for meaning-making and learning opportunities that arise from the dynamic interaction between the texts and their readers (Steins 2003, p. 691). This form of reading underscores cultural and religious diversity and helps deconstruct monolithic concepts of “self” and “other.” It does not aim to smooth over existing differences between the religious texts but uses these differences as a starting point for productive engagement. By inviting a border crossing between the texts, intertextual reading enables learners to engage in deeper reflection and immersion in the textual worlds (Bubenheim 2021, p. 68).

An example of an intertextual reading is the story of Abraham and his sons Isaac and Ishmael, which appears in both the Torah and the Quran. The scene of the sacrifice is particularly found in both scriptures. The intertextual connections between the stories of Abraham and his sons manifest themselves not only through the names of the characters but also through the protagonists’ experiences with God’s directive, testing, and, ultimately, saving intervention.

In the Quran, the identity of the son to be sacrificed remains unclear, whereas in Genesis 22, Isaac is explicitly named as the one to be sacrificed. Considering Surah 37:99–113, one could infer from verse 112 that Isaac might be meant, but the text remains open. A look at classical exegetes shows that there was no consensus among them either; contrary to the prevailing opinion, the majority of them consider Isaac to be the son to be sacrificed.

When we compare the story of Abraham and his son in the Quran and the Torah, both similarities and differences in the depiction of events become apparent. Both narratives begin with God’s command to Abraham to sacrifice his son as the ultimate proof of his faith and obedience. This command serves as the core of the story and highlights Abraham’s reaction to God’s order. In both cases, God intervenes at the last moment to spare the son’s life and provides a substitute sacrifice.

However, the differences between the two traditions are very pronounced. While the Torah clearly identifies Isaac as the son to be sacrificed, the identity of the son in the Quran is not named. Classical Muslim exegetes were not unanimous in identifying the son. In later exegesis, the son was identified as Ishmael. In the Quran, the son to be sacrificed is portrayed as understanding and consenting to the divine plan after Abraham tells him about his dream. In the Muslim tradition, Abraham is depicted as uncertain and hesitant; although he had a dream instructing him to sacrifice his son, he seeks advice from the son. The son is portrayed as capable of making decisions, actively contributing to the decision, and encouraging his father to fulfill the dream. Abraham thus trusts his son’s judgment, and as a result, the plan is carried out. In contrast, Isaac in the biblical narrative is depicted as unaware of his role as the sacrifice; Abraham in the Torah avoids telling his son the truth. In this narrative, the sacrifice has not agreed to be the sacrifice.

How can students work intertextually with texts from the Quran and the Torah? A productive starting point would be the joint reading of the text passages, paying particular attention to the depiction of the main characters, the events described, and the messages conveyed.

In particular, students should be encouraged to explore why the Quran leaves open which son is meant, while the view that it is Ishmael has prevailed in the Muslim tradition. This construction of a direct connection between Abraham and Ishmael, from whom the Arabs and thus the Muslims are said to have descended, should be considered in the context of social and political circumstances. It is important to understand that the construction of national and religious identity becomes especially significant in times of differentiation from other traditions. At the same time, it should be discussed how the Jewish tradition constructs its identity through Isaac.

To deepen understanding, hypothetical thought experiments can be conducted: What would it mean for the Muslim tradition if Isaac were the son to be sacrificed? What would it mean for the Jewish tradition if Ishmael were the chosen one? Further discussions could raise ethical questions: How can God demand such a drastic act? Is this morally justifiable?

The interpretation of the story of Abraham and the sacrifice of his son in the Quran and the Torah raises more questions than it provides answers, which offers great potential for educational processes. The intertextual engagement challenges students to develop their own interpretations and draw personal conclusions. They can also recognize that the Muslim tradition has adopted much from the Jewish tradition and that the Quranic text would hardly be understandable without the contents of the Torah. This would also encourage the use of the Torah in Muslim religious education as an essential component of teaching and learning.

Using the example of the mentioned story, it becomes paradigmatically clear how close, but also complicated and partly counterintuitive, the connections between the Holy Scriptures and the political present and their religious interpretation are. The question of the identity of the son to be sacrificed as an important element of each tradition’s own construction of descent demonstrates, on the one hand, the undiminished relevance of these scriptures for the present and, on the other hand, the necessity of a differentiated, knowledgeable, and critical intertextual approach to these scriptures to identify and criticize the subsequent interpretations by politically motivated interpreters.

Working with students to understand that it is possible and often enriching to endure uncertainties and ambiguities and to examine the religious interpretation of sacred texts for their historical and ideological backgrounds is particularly relevant given the highly strained relations between Jews and Muslims today. The “community of believers” during Muhammad’s time, which included monotheists, can serve as an example to break down existing hostilities between Jews and Muslims and to open new paths of understanding and coexistence in the present.