Books: Caucasian Connection

THE THIRTEENTH TRIBE by ARTHUR KOESTLER 255 pages. Random House. $8.95.

The unblinking eye of Eastern mysticism, the dark side of Western technology, the enigmas of order and chance, the uncharted rills of the brain—no subject has been too forbidding for Arthur Koestler's exuberant curiosity. Now, at 70, he is the intellectual's Robert Ripley, presenting sideshows of believe-it-or-not facts and controversial speculations.

This time out, Koestler offers what he clearly intends to be an astounding fact—that the majority of the world's 14 million Jews are not Semites. Most European and American Jews, he advises, should not trace their origins to the tents of Jacob but rather to the yurts of 7th century Caucasian nomads known as Khazars. With their fair skin, reddish hair and blue eyes, the Khazars were not what is usually regarded as Semites. They spoke a kind of old Turkish, but their origins remain hidden.

Two Monotheisms. Yet the Khazars and their relationship to Judaism are not news to scholars and historians. There is general agreement that during the early 7th century these pagan tribesmen established a kingdom between the Black and Caspian seas. Their capital was Itil, near present-day Astrakhan, at the mouth of the Volga.

The historical stage center during this period was held by the Christian Byzantine Empire and the followers of Mohammed, who burst out of the Arabian peninsula after the prophet's death in 632, overran Persia and eventually extended their empire from northern Spain to the frontiers of China. The pagan Khazars successfully resisted Christian and Moslem arms. The power of the two monotheisms seems to have driven the Khazars to seek a god of their own. The problem was, which one?

The Khazars chose Judaism, an odd historical fact that Koestler and others are at pains to explain satisfactorily. According to one ancient Jewish legend, the Khazar king, Bulan, was in the market for a monotheism to replace his old tribal idolatry. He asked the emissary from Christian Byzantium which faith he would choose if the only option was between Judaism and Islam. The Christian chose Judaism because the Jews —though sinners—at least worshiped the same god.

King Bulan then asked the caliph's representative to pick between Judaism and Christianity. The Arab also selected the Jews because Christians ate pork and knelt before man-made images. The choice was clear: If the two opposing superpowers could agree on the Old Testament god, who was Bulan to argue?

Unfortunately, Koestler omits the charming details of this conversion by comparative shopping. Instead, he offers the politics of Third World neutralism, arguing the possibility that a Jewish Khazaria could better deal with both Christians and Arabs. Such Realpolitik has a certain commonsensical appeal, but it also leaves out the less rational motives for human behavior—those motives that seem to be responsible for most of history.