Biblical Narratives of Israelites and their Neighbors: Strangers at the Gate (Routledge Interdisciplinary Perspectives on Biblical Criticism) 9781138704619, 9781315202600, 113870461X

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Biblical Narratives of Israelites and Their Neighbors

Throughout the Hebrew Bible, strangers are indispensable to the formation of a collective Israelite identity. Encounters between the Israelites and their neighbors are among the most urgent matters explored in biblical narratives, yet relatively little scholarly attention has been paid to them. This book corrects that imbalance by carrying out close readings of the accounts of Israel’s myriad interactions with the surrounding nations. The book follows the people of Israel after they leave Egypt, as they wander in the wilderness, cross over into the land, become a unified people Israel and face explusion from that land. The introduction lays the groundwork for a literary reading. Each chapter that follows highlights a distinct people and the issues that they create. For example, Jethro, father-in-law of Moses and a Midian priest, provides a model of collaboration, while Samson’s behavior triggers a cycle of violent retribution. These engaging stories illustrate the perceived dangers of idolatry and military oppression, but also convey lessons in governance, cultural innovation and the building of alliances. This book is vital reading for Biblical scholars and interested readers who want to deepen their understanding of the Israelites’ relationship with neighboring peoples. It will also be of keen interest to academics who work in ancient history and culture. Adriane Leveen is a Senior Lecturer in Hebrew Bible at the Hebrew Union College–Jewish Institute of Religion, USA. Adriane’s research focuses on the Bible, Literary, Rhetorical and Cultural Studies, and Gender and Redaction Criticism. She has been published in a variety of journals on these subjects and has authored a book entitled Memory and Tradition in the Book of Numbers (2008).

Routledge Interdisciplinary Perspectives on Biblical Criticism

1 Paul and Death A Question of Psychological Coping Linda Joelsson 2 Gender-Play in the Hebrew Bible The Ways the Bible Challenges Its Gender Norms Amy Kalmanofsky 3 Biblical Narratives of Israelites and Their Neighbors Strangers at the Gate Adriane Leveen

Biblical Narratives of Israelites and Their Neighbors Strangers at the Gate

Adriane Leveen

First published 2017 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2017 Adriane Leveen The right of Adriane Leveen to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A catalog record for this book has been requested ISBN: 978-1-138-70461-9 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-315-20260-0 (ebk) Typeset in Sabon by Apex CoVantage, LLC

In memory of my parents Polly and Cy Leveen

Contents

Acknowledgementsviii 1 Introduction

1

PART 1

The wilderness journey and its end25 2 Inside out: Jethro and the Midianites

27

3 Crossing over and settling the land

45

PART 2

Living in the land77 4 Enemies in the borderlands

79

5 Warriors and kings

107

6 Solomon and his neighbors

133

PART 3

Unsettled in the land157 7 “My father was a fugitive Aramaean”

159

8 Strangers at the gate

189

Bibliography201 Index210

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank my teacher Robert Alter, who taught me how to closely read biblical narratives and appreciate the fruits of such readings. My colleagues who listened, advised and supported me during this writing include Marc Brettler, Danna Nolan Fewell, Edward Greenstein, Mark Leuchter, Jeremy Schipper, Vered Shemtov, Ben Sommer and Wendy Zierler. The Women’s Working Bible Group – Esther Hamori, Karina Hogan, Amy Kalmanofsky and Andrea Weiss – have provided a warm and witty forum for the exchange of ideas. A number of my chapters benefited from their comments. Steven Weitzman deserves many thanks for his generosity and steadfast willingness to be of help. I want to thank the Journal for the Study of the Old Testament and SAGE Publications for permission to use versions of two articles in this work: “Reading the Seams” (2005) and “Inside Out: Jethro, the Midianites and a Biblical Construction of the Outsider” (2010). My children Shulie and Nathaniel provide the motive, ever more urgent, to extrapolate the wisdom embedded in biblical texts to address the serious challenges of our time. Jonathan Blake contributed bibliographic suggestions and an especially stimulating dissertation. My husband Arnold Eisen, is, as ever, my best and most honest reader. I thank him with love and gratitude. I dedicate this book to my parents. My mother Polly had a deep and abiding curiosity about cultures different from our own, especially China and Japan. My father Cy reached across boundaries in our small town to craft a theatrical group with strangers who became neighbors and friends. The two of them supplied the inspiration for this work. Their memories are a blessing.

1 Introduction

Called by God, Abraham sets out on a journey whose destination is unknown. I imagine him wary, perhaps vulnerable. He leaves behind his birthplace and home to travel for months, possibly years, through unfamiliar Mesopotamian territory. He eventually moves on to the land God shows him, only to discover, a mere four verses later, that famine necessitates a hasty departure to Egypt, a potentially hostile and dangerous region. Seemingly always on the road, now and forever more, Abraham is a stranger in a world he does not know. He encounters a powerful pharaoh and numerous kings, a crafty priest of El Elyon and the wicked townspeople of Sodom and Gomorrah. Without property of his own, he is forced to bargain for a piece of ground in which to bury his wife. Having quickly learned the challenges, and especially the perils, of being uprooted, Abraham must urgently distinguish between those who wish him harm and those who do not. His is not an easy task but a necessary one. More important even than obtaining territory or wealth, Abraham must try to understand the countless strangers that he meets along the way and those who live just beyond his gate. The biblical stories of his life preserve that hard-earned knowledge. Years later, Abraham’s descendants, the people Israel, find themselves in a similar situation. They too need to understand a world of strangers, first in Egypt like their ancestor, then during an equally fraught journey through the wilderness. Even after crossing the River Jordan and finally arriving, as Abraham did, in the Promised Land, the Israelites must continue to live alongside others, build relationships with them, and seek to understand, outwit and befriend them. In this project I examine the literary record of such relationships as biblical writers preserved them in compelling, and at times surprising, narratives of Israelites and their neighbors. A great deal is still at stake in such a project. We too live in a world of increasing threats from strangers we do not comprehend and neighbors we fail to understand. Like Abraham and the Israelites, we ignore those others at our own peril. Biblical writers knew that peril well. The people Israel lived in a land inhabited and surrounded by others who could not be written out of existence. Canaanites and Midianites, Philistines, Phoenicians and Aramaeans were adversaries or allies, competitors or partners. Sometimes

2 Introduction enemy became ally or friend became foe. Israelites held a range of attitudes toward those outsiders from avoidance to curiosity, distrust to desire, and from rejection to welcome. At times the Israelites reacted violently to their neighbors. Others among them found a way not only to coexist but also to thrive in relationship to other peoples. Biblical texts served as a record of the possibilities, and also as a warning and a guide for future dealings. Yet few contemporary biblical scholars have paid attention to the myriad ways in which ancient Israelites engaged with their enemies and neighbors in the stories they told. It is my intent in this work to correct that omission by highlighting and analyzing a series of biblical narratives of Israelites and the strangers at their gates. As an example of such a narrative, let me briefly return to Abraham. He finds himself in an unfamiliar region, Gerar.1 Abraham assumes that the treatment he will receive from its leader, Avimelech, will be the same as that accorded him by a hostile pharaoh. Abraham tells Sarah, his wife, to declare that she is his sister. YHWH comes to Avimelech in the night, threatens him with death and warns him not to touch Sarah. In a remarkable response Avimelech protests to YHWH, “My Lord, a people who are innocent will you kill?” (Gen 20:4). God acknowledges the justice in Avimelech’s statement. Still agitated, Avimelech turns to Abraham the next morning full of reproach. “What have you done to us and how have I sinned against you that you have brought upon me and all my kingdom such a great sin? Acts that shouldn’t be done, you have done to me” (Gen 20:9). Sobered by the rebuke, Abraham cedes the point and reaches a truce with Avimelech. He has learned that this stranger is not like the Egyptian. Abraham has begun to make distinctions among the peoples with whom he comes in contact, a skill that his descendants too will require. Hagar, the Egyptian servant of Sarah who became Abraham’s second wife, contributes another valuable lesson to Abraham’s education. Hagar is strange indeed, marked as an outsider because she is an Egyptian, a woman and of a different class. Yet YHWH takes a great deal of trouble to comfort and advise Hagar in Genesis 16 and 21. In an uncharacteristic act for a woman, let alone an Egyptian, Hagar names the God who has seen her “El Roi” (Gen 16:13). Through Hagar Abraham learns that God will speak to other individuals besides him, including women, and will single out other peoples as well.2 It is not an easy lesson to retain. The tension generated by being chosen as the founder of the people of YHWH, a people who stand apart while living in a world of many peoples, remains a constant in Abraham’s life. Avimelech and Hagar illustrate to Abraham the possibilities and even benefits of more tolerant relationships with strangers nearby.3 Abraham arrives on the biblical scene only in Genesis 11:26. The first 11 chapters of Genesis present the world of peoples from whom Abraham and his family emerge. Genesis defines those peoples as an extended human family: brothers and sisters, daughters and sons, cousins, nephews and nieces. For instance, the children of Japheth and Ham appear and so do

Introduction  3 their offspring: Tarshish on one side, and Cush, Mizraim, Put and Canaan on the other. The Philistines are there and so are some of the seven nations: Hittites, Jebusites, Amorites, Girgashites and Hivites. Many of these peoples will appear in my analysis of Israelites and strangers.4 When God calls Abraham in Genesis 12, it is to create a new people, the Israelites, who will take their place in an already thickly populated world, and in a land likewise inhabited by others. But even Abraham’s line leads to numerous others. It begins with Hagar, Abraham’s Egyptian wife, and the older son she bears him, Ishmael. Sarah gives birth to Isaac but after her death Abraham takes another wife, Keturah, who bears the people Midian, into which Moses will one day marry. Isaac’s wife Rebecca is first cousin to Aram. She bears not only Jacob but also Esau, founder of the Edomites. In other words, from its very inception Israel exists in a close kin relationship to Egyptians, Midianites, Edomites and Aramaeans. Taken as a whole, the opening chapters of Genesis present a vision of a grand and stable order in which each people, including the people Israel, is deeply interconnected to other peoples while at the same time inhabiting its own niche. Crusemann elegantly sums up the point: “Here, at the entrance to the Tora, Israel has written itself into the world of peoples and has defined its location within the framework of the entire humanity created by God.”5 But the stable order suggested by Genesis 1–11 and reinforced in Abraham’s positive relationships with Avimelech and Hagar is repeatedly upset and defied in other biblical narratives. Divisions and conflict, rather than unity and peace, dominate. Deuteronomy takes a particularly strong stance against Israelite relationships with other peoples: When YHWH your God brings you to the land that you are about to enter and possess, and dislodges many peoples before you, the Hittites, Girgashites, Amorites, Canaanites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites, seven nations many and greater than you, and YHWH your God places them before you; you shall strike them, utterly destroy them: don’t establish with them a covenant and don’t pity them. Deut 7:1–2 The passage demands a direct assault against the peoples of the land. It even orders the people how to feel in doing so – pitiless. Deuteronomy 12:2–3 orders the Israelites to pull down the shrines of those peoples and destroy their gods.6 But Deuteronomy also warns Israelites that if they follow other gods they too will be stoned to death (Deut 17:5). Not only the Canaanites, but also the Israelites could threaten the covenant. The urgent tone of these passages confirms a characterization of Deuteronomy as a “social manifesto that attempts to give a form and structure to an ideally envisioned ethnic group called ‘Israel.’ ”7 Deuteronomy attempts to do so in part by erasing Israelite similarities to other ethnic groups and their gods.8

4 Introduction Somewhat surprisingly, in spite of such harsh and troubling commands, Deuteronomy includes an alternative point of view. Not all strangers need to be destroyed even if they worship other gods. Deuteronomy 2:4–6 commands the Israelites to avoid provoking the descendants of Esau and to take none of their land. Nor should they provoke the grandsons of Lot, the Moabites (Deut 2:9) and the Ammonites (Deut 2:19). Deuteronomy 23:4 revises and clarifies those relationships: “No Ammonite or Moabite shall come into the assembly of YHWH.”9 But chapter 23:8–9 allows two other peoples into the assembly of YHWH in the third generation: Edomites and Egyptians. The textual evidence suggests that taken as a whole, Deuteronomy conveys a more pragmatic and varied view of other peoples than the highly ideological and uniform program suggested by such texts as Deuteronomy 7:1–2 or 12:2–3. I seek to make sense of the preservation of biblical stories of close kin relationships, mutual tolerance and even respect such as that of Abraham, Hagar and Avimelech and of the injunction to destroy other peoples utterly. Narratives that command violence against other peoples particularly trouble me. I feel compelled both to acknowledge and to trace the origins of that violence. The stories examined in this study demonstrate that ethnic affiliation, religious practices, competing resources and territorial ambitions all figure among the triggers of conflict between Israelites and the peoples they meet within the world constructed in biblical narrative. Israelites fight, conquer, dispossess and exterminate others. Fear and intimidation are manipulated and fanned into ongoing cycles of violence. Eric Seibert identifies a benefit of a focused examination: “naming the violence with this kind of specificity forces it to the surface, where it can be discussed, analyzed, and critiqued.”10 But violent extremism is not the only biblical way to deal with other peoples. Counter-narratives suggest tolerance, describe recurrent hospitality, and encourage collaboration and negotiated peace. Generosity, compassion and even empathy exist between Israelites and their neighbors. Such alternative biblical attitudes, feelings, and points of view challenge conflict and violence on numerous grounds – pragmatic, political and existential among others.11 In the end the people Israel must learn to coexist with difference in the world, especially when strangers are at the borders of the nation, or even at one’s gates. In order to explore the range of possibilities in sufficient detail, I will restrict myself to texts from Exodus and Joshua through 2 Kings. My analysis is not comprehensive but aims to be illuminative.12 Two dimensions of my approach are somewhat novel. First, I treat strangers as central rather than ancillary characters in the biblical stories I examine. Second, a sustained examination of Israelites and strangers that links together stories from Exodus and Joshua through 2 Kings allows me to detect recurring assumptions and perceptions as well as alternative points of view and disagreements.13 Biblical narratives testify to the urgency of the subject in a world that was once, and continues to be, intertwined and torn apart.

Introduction  5 The remainder of the introduction lays the necessary groundwork for a close literary reading of Israelites and strangers. Any story worthy of analysis raises questions in need of response and challenges in need of clarification. Biblical narratives of Israelites and strangers are no exception. The quandary begins with the fundamental question of language: the name for the subject of this inquiry. I have found biblical terms for outsiders to be inadequate. I will explain momentarily the language that I prefer as well as my reasons for doing so. Second, identity and ethnicity are terms subject to immense scholarly contention. I aim for transparency in how I use them in the biblical context. Third, I consider how to approach the violence that seems endemic to the topic. Addressing these questions, I rely on textual representations of strangers that result from biblical perceptions of them rather than external independent sources. I hope to make my strategic response to those constraints clear as well as the benefits of a literary rather than historical approach.

Biblical outsiders This work analyzes stories whose strangers may at times be identified by individual name but are always identified by ethnic group: Midianites, Canaanites, Philistines and Aramaeans. Interestingly, the Bible has no generic term for outsiders who live beyond the borders of the Israelites’ land. Three obvious biblical terms come close in referring to a person or collective from outside: the ‫גר‬, a sojourner (or in subsequent transliteration, ger) ‫ נכרי‬a foreigner; and ‫זר‬, meaning stranger, strange or out of place. I find each term wanting. The ger is the most extensive and most significant category found in biblical texts on our theme because it provides a counter-example to hostile attitudes toward outsiders found in other biblical laws and narratives. Laws concerning the ger promote a largely tolerant, inclusive stance. Since the term also appears more frequently in biblical texts than the other two terms, I discuss it at greater length.14 In a survey of the term in biblical texts, Christiana van Houten argues that a ger may have initially referred to an Israelite who moved from one village to another or from one tribe to another and settled into his/her new location. Increasing urbanization in the eighth century BCE in the north followed by the movement of immigrants from the north to Jerusalem after the fall of the Northern Kingdom in 720 BCE provide a context to explain the marginal and financially precarious status of these vulnerable people.15 During the same period a ger could have been part of a different people who migrated to the land from outside Israelite territory.16 While a ger may have come from elsewhere, he/she/they would remain among the Israelites within their gates and land. “The noun ger came to designate the legal status granted to those strangers who, living in an Israelite community, were ruled by its internal regulations.”17 By the end of the biblical period the Israelite

6 Introduction community most likely accepted the ger within its midst as a full member of the people Israel. Deuteronomy 24:19–21, 26:12–13 and 27:19 list the ger along with the widow and the orphan as “helpless and marginalized people of the late preexilic Israel for whose material well-being the deuteronomic code was concerned.”18 According to van Houten the family structure in Israel ensured protection for the ger: “Outsiders who are vulnerable in a new place . . . must rely on the protection of a powerful member of the Israelite society, and fall under the jurisdiction of the patriarch of the family in most things.”19 Deuteronomy 31:12 stands out for its explicit inclusion of gerim in the community of Israel. Moses instructs the Israelites: “Gather the people, men and women and children and the ger in your gates in order to hear and in order to study and to revere YHWH your God and observe to do all the words of this Torah.” Leviticus 24:22 goes so far as to declare: “One rule shall be for you, ger and citizen alike, for I am YHWH your God.”20 God uses the phrase in Leviticus 25:23 explicitly to describe the Israelites: “And the land cannot be sold in perpetuity for the land is mine and you are sojourners (gerim) and resident settlers with me.” In this verse ger is a category that in God’s eyes include the Israelites. This brief survey suggests that the ger categorizes unnamed individuals from elsewhere who settle within an Israelite community in the land. They are individuals who live in small numbers among Israelites rather than nations who are majorities in contiguous areas who interact with Israel. I am certainly interested in peoples from elsewhere who may infiltrate Israelite lands but, in contrast to the ger, they most often return to their own homes. Second, unlike the ger, these peoples have specific ethnic affiliations in the texts in which they appear. They are Midianites, Philistines, Phoenicians and Aramaeans. The seven nations who do not come from elsewhere but coexist in the land with the Israelites are the one exception. However, like the other peoples in this study, they too are identified as peoples rather than anonymous outsiders. They are Canaanites, Hittites, Hivites, Perizzites, Girgashites, Amorites and Jebusites. Third, the ger mainly appears in legal rather than narrative materials. This is not a legal study but a literary one. The stories Israelites tell of themselves and of others contain a variety of attitudes and perceptions of strangers, best captured in the complexities and nuances of narrative rather than the more precise categories of codified laws. Finally, the explicit requirement within these texts to treat the ger in generally benevolent fashion, including the impulse to integrate the ger within the Israelite community, stands in marked contrast to the stance taken to strangers from elsewhere with no permanent place, many of whom are considered enemies who must be violently overcome. Strangers, unlike the ger, have no place in Israelite territory. Integration within the Israelite community is not a goal nor does it happen. Thus strangers are my preferred

Introduction  7 subjects for a study that seeks to better understand exclusion and intolerance between Israelites and strangers. However, it is worth highlighting that the rules of the ger preserve an impulse to be more tolerant and thoughtful toward other peoples, and therefore provides a crucial alternative model to that of hostilities and battles directed at outsiders. The second term, ‫ נכרי‬nochri, or foreigner, is more directly relevant to my analysis, though used less, since the foreigner is subject to laws that preclude his/her involvement in Israelite ritual and society. A foreigner may not eat of the Pesach (Ex 12:43) or present bread to God (Lev 22:25). Nor can a foreigner be king (Deut 17:15). The term emphasizes “the otherness of those persons and their separateness from the majority.”21 “Foreign” is also used as an adjective for a land (Ex 2:22 and 18:3, Deut 31:16), for women (1 Kings 11:1, 8) and for gods (Deut 32:12, Josh 24:20, 23, Judges 10:16, 1 Sam 7:3). Foreign gods and women play particularly significant roles as targets of revulsion and contempt in the stories that follow. But like ger, foreigner is a generic category, at times simply an adjective, rather than a reference to specifically named peoples. It too will not suit. ‫ זר‬zar, refers to something or someone out of place. It is used as an adjective to describe strange incense (Ex 30:9), fire (Lev 10:1, Num 3:4) and water (2 Kings 19:24). The term is used as a noun in Numbers 1:51, 3:10, 3:38, 18:4, 7 to refer to a man, neither Levite nor descendant of Aaron, who may breach the Tabernacle and bring catastrophe upon the people Israel. He must be stopped by the Levites. In Deuteronomy 25:5 the strange man is simply from another family. In 1 Kings 3:18 the strange man is a nonresident in a particular house. In all of these examples, the strange man is a non-priestly Israelite. Hence, this term is not pertinent to a discussion of peoples from elsewhere. Nonetheless, the association of ‫ זר‬with considerable anxiety in response to strange things or dangerous people in biblical narratives is highly suggestive. Israelite reactions to outsiders reflect that anxiety. Just as strange fire may disrupt an orderly ritual moment, so may a strange person potentially undermine or threaten the community. The three categories – ger, foreigner and an Israelite out of place – remain in the background of this analysis. In the foreground are Midianites, Canaanites, Philistines and Aramaeans. I refer to these peoples as strangers, and sometimes as neighbors, to emphasize the extent to which they are strange to the Israelites even if in geographic proximity to them. They are not well known, hence unpredictable. Their language and dress may be unfamiliar, their motives suspect and dangerous. They may also be seductive or desirable. Attitudes toward strangers within biblical narrative are rarely neutral. At the same time, they are not predetermined or necessarily hostile. In his work on strangers Richard Kearney notes: “And so we witness . . . the notion of both a favourable stranger developing into the guest and a hostile stranger developing into the enemy. . . . Hospitality is never a given; it is always a challenge and a choice.”22 So it is with stories of Israelites who must make

8 Introduction that choice in their frequent interactions with non-Israelites who surround them. Either way, strangers allow Israelites to learn more about themselves. As put by Claudia Camp, “strangeness necessarily depends on a notion of what is not strange, what is ‘us’, and thus, indeed, helps to construct that sense of identity by formulating its opposite.”23 Before turning more directly to the role of strangers in biblical narrative, I want to briefly consider how a disparate group of families and tribes join together in the first place to become a unified people Israel.

Theorizing Israelites and others at the borders In her recent work Ann Killebrew, a scholar of the ancient Mediterranean, describes two alternative definitions of ethnicity: “an essential attribute, a fixed and permanently structured element of human identity . . . [or] a more malleable category that was responsive to changing social settings and circumstances.”24 These alternatives are labeled as primordial and circumstantial affiliations.25 A primordial affiliation entails membership in “a particular group because of birth or blood ties; that is, one’s parents or ancestors were members of the same group. There is often a historical depth to a group’s identity, usually supported by a rhetorical and mythical or religious language that may detail the origin of the group.”26 In contrast, a circumstantial affiliation suggests that ethnic allegiance is a more opportunistic variable. [It is a] result of political and economic interests and strategies. From this perspective, self-interest is largely responsible for forming group identity, and material culture or technological boundaries in the archaeological record more accurately reflect economic or political, rather than genetic or kinship, ties.27 Self-interest may lead members of a group to change their allegiances either to one another or to outsiders depending on the resources or opportunities that they seek or that are presented to them. If so, than such “flexibility means that the typical behavioral characteristics of an ethnic group cannot be treated as fixed and static indicators of identity.”28 The two categories of affiliation, primordial and circumstantial, are not exclusive. The combination would lead an ethnic group to preserve many attributes of its self-definition over time such as genealogy and tribal allegiance but also add or subtract, acquire or discard other dimensions of identity, both on an individual and a collective level. Killebrew takes ethnicity in its broadest meaning as “a variety of diverse forces that can bind individuals into a social grouping . . . ethnicity is a dynamic and ongoing process of interaction or ethnogenesis . . . in constant flux.”29 She describes the process

Introduction  9 of ethnogenesis via the work of Herwig Wolfram and identifies three characteristic features, all of them, in her view, found in biblical narrative: (1) a story or stories of a primordial deed, which can include the crossing of a sea or river, an impressive victory against all odds over an enemy, or combinations of similar “miraculous” stories (e.g., the exodus); (2) a group that undergoes a religious experience or change in cult as a result of the primordial deed (e.g., reception of the Ten Commandments and worship of Yahweh); and (3) the existence of an ancestral enemy or enemies that cement group cohesion (e.g., most notably the Canaanites and Philistines). These basic elements form the key themes in the biblical narrative about the emergence of early Israel.30 Killebrew’s overall approach captures the dynamic development of the people Israel in the historical and archeological record as well as within biblical narrative. Israelite beliefs, practices, rituals and the stories that they tell of themselves give form and content to the process of ethnogenesis that Killebrew describes. The stories that the Israelites tell of themselves (feature 1) and of their enemies (feature 3) are the primary foci of this analysis. Religious and cultic indicators of identity (feature 2) preserved in biblical texts include circumcision, dietary regulations, sacrifices, observance of ritual purification laws, the celebration of the Sabbath and holidays, and the worship of YHWH. Some of those practices are considered ‘primordial’ since they are placed at the very beginning of the world’s creation in Genesis (Sabbath) or as originating with Abraham (circumcision). Others illustrate Killebrew’s notion of ‘flux’ (different encounters with, and names for, YHWH; the development of priestly regulations over time). All are given divine sanction, thus an enduring status. Together rituals, practices and beliefs mark the Israelites as a bounded group distinct from their neighbors. None are more significant than a singular devotion to YHWH. “Israel [is exhorted to] worship its own God and not somebody else’s. From a sociological, as well as a theological, perspective, that is a major, and possibly the major, component of Israel’s identity as a people.”31 Not only do the people Israel consider YHWH as unique, but the covenant that they establish with YHWH makes them unique as well. A covenant between YHWH and a people rather than between gods is, according to Ronald Hendel, remarkable within the context of the ancient world. The standard formula of international treaties required that both party’s gods participate as witnesses, acknowledging a degree of communication and mutual recognition among the gods of different cultures. . . . Ancient Israel seems to have been the exception to this rule. Israelite writings from the earliest period repeatedly sound the theme of nontranslatability, of the birth of something new and different.32

10 Introduction The people’s covenant with YHWH perpetuates barriers against other peoples and is crucial to “group identity formation and ethnic boundary-making.”33 Yet, while the processes of identity and ethnic affiliation go on internally, as Killebrew suggests, they are never free of outside influences. Fredrik Barth reminds us of the importance of the ‘other’ and the role of strangers in the formation of group identity: “ethnic identity is a matter of self-ascription and ascription by others in interaction.”34 The many stories of Israelite interactions with others clarify, reinforce and challenge how they see themselves. Mark Brett notes how common but essential are these exchanges: “As with all social groups, the formulation of boundaries is a crucial feature of self-definition. Who should be considered one of ‘us’ and who should be considered ‘other’? Whether explicitly or implicitly, such a binary opposition is a common feature of social discourse.”35 In the chapters that follow I will illustrate the extent to which many of these insights fuel the tensions and plot between Israelites and others. My identification of strangers as the ‘other’ against whom Israelites define themselves follows the work of biblical critics who have placed either women or the disabled in that role.36 Both categories challenge the definition of a normative “Israelite” character as a male free of physical challenges (Moses is an obvious exception: “I am of heavy mouth and heavy speech” Ex 4:10).37 These critics have persuaded readers to shift our gaze to those others who are also present in biblical narrative. In so doing they have presented the reader a richer, more comprehensive and accurate biblical world. Take as an example Claudia Camp’s emphasis on gender in the biblical construction of identity. It is, I think, pretty much a truism by now that an important component in constructing collective identity is the construction of an Other as the not-Us, over against whom We know ourselves as Us. . . . one must ignore, or forget, the ways in which We and the Other are alike; one must also internalize our assumed difference as natural, repressing any awareness that it is a construction. In androcentric societies – and most have been! – identity is created at a fundamental level as male and female or, better put, as male and not-male: women are the most basic and thus most fully naturalized Other.38 Camp reminds us of the extent to which any category is constructed. Her analysis of female strangers is especially relevant to the present analysis. She points out the extent to which “female ethnic foreignness is intimately linked, via several different modes, to other significant conceptual fields: it is linked, by ideological framing, to worship of foreign gods; by metaphor, to sexual strangeness (adultery, prostitution and in general, women’s control of their own sexuality). . . .”39 In the chapters to come, strange women are repeatedly exploited for ideological, political or religious reasons as snares aimed at Israelite men,

Introduction  11 allowing biblical writers to undermine or criticize an individual character or the people Israel in general. Consider Zipporah, the Midianite wife of Moses and heroine of a tale in Exodus 4 in which she saves Moses’ life from an inexplicable attack by God. Zipporah’s strangeness has made her intolerable to the priestly writers in Numbers as a legitimate wife for Moses. But she is too valorized a figure in Exodus to be an explicit target in Numbers. Instead a nameless “Cushite” woman who is attacked by Miriam and Aaron in Numbers 12 serves as a substitute for Moses’ wife. As a result, all such alliances are discredited. On the other hand Rahab, a Canaanite woman, acknowledges the superiority of the Israelites and provides sanctuary to two Israelite spies in the book of Joshua. Her presence subverts claims that strange women are threats but only because she has made herself less strange as a champion of YHWH. Samson succumbs to his sexual desires for Philistine women in the book of Judges. The consequences for Samson as perceived by an Israelite male writer are abundantly clear. Almost from the moment of his crossing into Philistine lands, Samson enters into a cycle of violence and disaster largely of his own making. Solomon’s glorification as a king by the Queen of Sheba in 1 Kings 10 is a signal to the Israelites, or at least to the biblical writer, that he has gone too far in mimicking the ways of successful kings outside of Israel. He is condemned because of his many marriages to foreign women. But gender is not the only variable in the making of Israelites as Camp herself points out: “the textual construction of gender intersects with other identity-constructing mechanisms to produce ‘Israelite identity.’ ”40 In my reading, strangers writ large, male and female, provide ‘identity-constructing mechanisms.’ My interest in strangers goes beyond their contribution to the development of an Israelite collective identity. I want to examine biblical perceptions and characterizations offered of strangers that surround Israel because the writers and their readers had no choice but to deal with other peoples. As Peter Machinist observes: “If the biblical corpus is a proper guide, the confrontation with others and thus with the ‘other’ was an unusually pervasive and persistent issue in ancient Israel.”41 Throughout Exodus and Joshua through 2 Kings, encounters between Israelites and strangers lead to conquest or coexistence, dissolution or adaptation, disadvantage or mutual benefit. Trying to understand strangers in these stories is not an easy task. David Jobling and Catherine Rose explain their motive in writing about Philistines: “We see it as always methodologically appropriate and necessary to restore submerged subjectivities in texts, since such textual strategies of submersion will inevitably prove to be part of cultural systems of exclusion.”42 One way to identify and concentrate on strangers is to ask whose voices are silent and whose stories are hidden.43 But the desire to shift the reading gaze to strangers is not easy. What does it mean to access strangers who appear to us only in texts written by Israelites? Jeremiah Cataldo puts the dilemma

12 Introduction well: “the Other is more often spoken for and defined rather than heard. And our readings of the biblical texts can really only hope to reconstruct the Other through interpretations of this Other by authors who assume dominant positions over her.”44 Simply put, much of what we can know of strangers in biblical narrative is what biblical writers tell us: how they represent them, what sorts of relationships the people Israel or their leaders enter into with strangers, and how the biblical writers use strangers to construct an Israelite self and people. Those constraints limit our understanding. Strangers have no subjective, independent voices.45 Thus my analysis necessarily focuses on the perceptions of them by biblical writers. But, as we have seen, the problem of an accurate or more complete representation of others has also been true for Israelite women, whose characterizations in biblical narratives are dependent on the male writers who depict them. Yet bringing women out of the shadows and the margins has succeeded in a fuller recognition of the richness and variety of roles they play in biblical narratives. While the grip of the editors of biblical narratives is quite firm, it is not impenetrable. As Cataldo points out, “The forces that produce social cohesion are the same as those that preserve difference so that a single group is identifiable in its distinction from others.”46 Not all strangers are the same, as Abraham learned from Avimelech. Biblical writers portray different peoples and individuals as differently from one another as from Israelites. Further, strangers do not exist only in the imagination of biblical writers. Real contacts create constraints. Strangers make themselves known or are encountered through trade and travel. Understanding strangers nearby is often an urgent matter since one needs to discern allies from enemies. It behooves biblical writers to pay attention to an external reality in their portraits of strangers. Encounters between Israelites and strangers in that external reality often occurred along physically determined borders, in border towns or in uninhabited areas. Ehud Ben Zvi describes such areas as in-between spaces that provide the opportunity “for exploring, negotiating and constantly reformulating and undermining boundaries.”47 Such spaces also figure in biblical narratives as important sites of encounter between Israelite and stranger. Scouts cross over the border of the River Jordan and settle for the night in the house of Rahab in the wall of Jericho, itself a border town. Samson spends much of his time in a border region between Israel and the closest Philistine area or in crossing back and forth between Judah and the Philistines. David unknowingly mimics Samson in his own crossings between Philistine and Judean areas. Israelites and Aramaeans cross back and forth to one another’s territory not only in war but also in negotiations and even for cultural and medical exchanges. Crossings affect Israelites individually and collectively. The stories in Exodus and Joshua through 2 Kings illustrate: the impact of boundary crossings in shaping identity and ethos, and ultimately belonging . . . how identity, values and lifestyle are challenged

Introduction  13 by border crossing; how belonging is shaped; and how difference can be negotiated and honored.48 Desert or arid regions, rivers or a mountain range create physical boundaries and are reflected in biblical narratives. Yet other borders are often ambiguous or ill defined. In a story such as that of Samson and the Philistines, the border region is an uninhabited swath of land. ‘Border’ in these stories should be considered a vague term. In addition to the physical, other sorts of borders also exist within biblical narrative. Israelites and strangers navigate social, cultural, linguistic or religious borders in their encounters. Very interesting things happen when peoples cross from one area to another and from one culture to another. The space ‘in between’ is one of exploration, curiosity, possibility and often danger. Choices are made at the borders: “Boundaries can give rise to competition, leading to conflict . . . or can become the opportunity for fruitful exchange and mutual advantage.”49 They can also lead to violence and often do.

Biblical violence Violence was at the core of biblical traditions, reflecting the fact that war and conflict were pervasive in the ancient Near Eastern world in general and integral to the lives of almost every people. Many kings of the ancient world, including those of Israel, gained their legitimacy from military successes. According to the Assyrian Annals, an Assyrian king’s “stature as a ruler was based on his ability to conduct successful military campaigns every year.”50 Leaders such as Joshua, Samson and David proved their mettle in numerous battles against the Canaanites, Philistines and Aramaeans among others. Nonetheless, since biblical narratives constitute an interpretation of historical events rather than accurate, eyewitness accounts, it is appropriate to inquire about the extent to which depictions of violence in the Bible are based upon historical facts. In a significant essay on the topic of biblical violence John Collins claims, “The archaeological evidence does not support the view that marauding Israelites actually engaged in the massive slaughter of Canaanites, either in the thirteenth century or at any later time.”51 Even if, according to external records, massive slaughter does not actually occur, Collins makes a passionate argument against whitewashing violence in the Bible. Violence remains a problem for biblical critics and readers alike because scripture has been appropriated to justify violence throughout the ages. Collins reminds us of “the moral problem posed by the biblical texts, which portray Israel as an aggressive, invading force, impelled by divine commands.”52 He goes on to identify the biblical ideology that leads to violence. Biblical texts: project a model of the ways in which Israel should relate to its neighbors. In this perspective, ownership of the land of Israel is conferred by

14 Introduction divine grant . . . violence against rival claimants of that land is not only legitimate but mandatory, especially if these people worship gods other than YHWH, the God of Israel.53 Collins concludes that such violence originates in “the advancement of a particular people and the imposition of its cult within the territory it controls.”54 Of course this would be true of any people who claim land as their own as well as the right to organize themselves and worship on that land as their traditions dictate. Jacob Wright points out the extent to which violence reinforces the unification of a people by means of an army and the shared experience of battle. He describes biblical authors as “engaged in an effort to forge a corporate identity for Israel, one that can both transcend deep divisions within the population and withstand military conquest by imperial armies.”55 Note that Wright mentions another motive to go to war, the threat of conquest by other armies. Israel is not only an aggressor but at times must defend itself from others. In consequence, going to war according to biblical narratives is incumbent on all male Israelites: war is not the special responsibility of a stratified professional military force. Instead, all Israel is expected to fight (see esp. Num 1–3). Military service is obligatory for all members of the nation and is in fact one of the primary means by which an Israelite man performs his membership.56 A specific example of biblical violence in the context of war is the imposition of a ban (herem in the Hebrew) or death sentence against selected enemies of Israel vanquished in battle. Israelites who violate a divine order may also be put under a ban. I return to the topic of herem in my reading of Joshua since the ban repeatedly surfaces in those narratives. In addition to war stories, other occurrences of violence are interspersed in biblical narratives and legal sections. Violence occurs against both Israelite and non-Israelite women throughout biblical narratives. Perhaps the most shocking (though other candidates can be found) are two events in Judges: Jephtah’s sacrifice of his daughter in chapter 11 and the rape and dismemberment of a concubine in chapter 19. In legal sections a man born to an Israelite mother and Egyptian father blasphemes the name of God and is stoned to death (Lev 24:23). An Israelite who defies the Sabbath by gathering wood is also stoned to death (Num 15:35–36). God praises Phinehas the priest for stabbing an Israelite man and a Midianite woman in the wilderness camp (Num 25:8). Violence is widespread. Biblical narrative is neither naïve nor unrealistic when it comes to violence. Both individuals and the people Israel need to protect themselves. Self-defense, secure borders, stable lives and prosperity are constant concerns. Israelites want to worship their God, YHWH, as other peoples worship other gods. At times, violence is the last remaining tool in rebellion against an oppressive or tyrannical leader. Numerous aggressors surround

Introduction  15 and invade Israel. Violence is an enduring reality, a given, even a norm, of most societies, including that of ancient Israel. On the other hand, several biblical writers critique what they identify as unnecessary uses of violence. They question what they consider illegitimate acts of violence while presenting alternative narratives of negotiation and compromise that lead to periods of peace. Susan Niditch points out that an impulse against violence in biblical narratives may in fact coincide with its acceptance: We are capable, depending upon many factors, of relating to one another in terms of a competition to the death that assures survival and in terms of the brotherhood, cooperation, and understanding that resolves conflict, assuring survival on different terms. These two impulses are at play in the Hebrew Bible as in the geo-political realities of our own times.57 Violence triggered by suspect motives such as greed or the seizure of ever more territory is problematized within some biblical stories. Cycles of violence, portrayed as interminable, illustrate the waste left in their wake. Violence against women is problematized in at least some stories, though not often enough. From a pragmatic point of view, the utility of violence is questioned in a number of stories. Biblical counter-traditions create the space to reevaluate and challenge the use of violence. Examples I analyze in this book include failed struggles over land ownership and territorial expansion in the conquest narratives in Joshua. Such failures lead biblical writers to the realization that not every people can be expelled from the land. Other peoples don’t disappear, not within the land and not along Israelite borders. The brutal rape and death of a concubine in Judges 19 leads to a bitter civil war among the tribes of Israel and a stain upon the Benjaminites. Such notoriety subtly spreads to Saul and colors his chances as the first king. Alliances between Aram and Israel hold for a period of time during which mutually beneficial exchanges occur. Collins warns against such selective readings since they “negate the force of the biblical endorsements of violence. . . . it is not an incidental or peripheral feature, and it cannot be glossed over.”58 Fair enough. But neither should those other voices be ignored or minimalized as mere apologetics. I take them seriously as genuine counter-traditions that aim to honestly confront biblical violence. Such honesty is required to contain those who would appropriate and justify biblical violence as a necessary, or even just, pragmatic strategy then and now. Ignoring violent texts is like camping on the bank of a crocodile-infested river. It is dangerous. It is naïve in the extreme. These Leviathan-like [monster] texts should be treated with the utmost respect and caution. They can erupt with violent force when it is least expected.59 I will neither ignore biblical violence nor its alternatives in the chapters to come.

16 Introduction

History and story Strangers in biblical stories are described in the historical and archeological record. Biblical writers took whatever they knew or imagined of the other peoples that surrounded Israel and Judah and represented them in biblical narratives for a variety of reasons. These peoples could not be ignored. They posed a religious or military threat. Israelites traded with other peoples. Israelite leaders conducted negotiations and diplomacy with them. Biblical writers were curious about strangers or worried about their intentions. They chose to use narrative art not only to record encounters with strangers as they observed or heard of them, but also to explore and clarify who these strangers were and how Israelites, and especially their leaders, should understand and respond to them. Nonetheless, a close reading of biblical stories of Israelites and their neighbors requires some knowledge of the actual strangers that existed alongside Israel and Judah in the world. Peoples presented in the biblical text who inhabited (or conquered) territory surrounding the Israelites include Midianites, Canaanites, Philistines, Aramaeans and Assyrians. I rely on recent archeological and historical work done by other scholars on these peoples as well as on ancient Israel and Judah for background and context. Ann Killebrew provides a detailed summary of the 12th–11th century BCE turmoil within the Ancient Near East that resulted in “coastal Phoenicians, Israelites (located in the highland regions) and the Transjordanian Ammonites and Moabites.”60 An astonishing number of contemporary scholars have considered or reconsidered the historical context of the 10th century BCE in which the narratives of Saul and David emerged.61 Oded Lipschitz reminds us of the Kurkh inscription of Shalmaneser III (859–824 BCE) that refers to Ahab the Israelite as well as another inscription that mentions Jehu the son of Omri. Jehu also appears in the Black Obelisk. The inscriptions of Adad-Nirari III (811–783) at Kalah and Tiglath-Pileser III (745–727) refer to the House of Omri.62 Biblical writers are cognizant of, and reflect elements of, that external record in their stories. But biblical writers are not writing history. They are grappling with, judging and/or reflecting upon other peoples in literary forms.63 A writer may add an element of the miraculous to a battle against a greater enemy or provide motives and feelings to a biblical character that originates in a lively or empathetic imagination rather than a court record. Frequently, biblical writers emphasize God’s role in such events as argued by Oded Lipschitz. The history of Israel as described in the Hebrew Bible, like most ancient historical writings, was not intended to be an accurate record of past events. Its purpose was, rather, didactic, illustrating the role of the God of Israel in history and, by so doing, shaping the identity of the people of Israel.64 From minor details to matters of great import, biblical writers craft the story of the people Israel guided by their own interests.

Introduction  17 Biblical writers were preoccupied with the extent of Israel’s uniqueness vis à vis other peoples. Strangers were not remote or abstract figures, but across the river, next door or at the gates. They pervaded the stories told by biblical writers who depicted them in continuous interaction with Israelites. From the origins of the Israelites, through their enslavement in Egypt, the wilderness journey, crossing over into the land and expulsion from that land, strangers played a part. In fact, the Israelites developed their unique identity as a people only through repeated encounters of other peoples. Biblical writers told stories that clarified or elevated differences, explored a shared fate at the hands of stronger enemies, or celebrated collaboration. Two examples will illustrate how particular historical realities inspire biblical stories. Both will be developed at length in the chapters to follow. The historically significant presence of the Philistines during much of the First Temple period of ancient Israel provides a backdrop for stories that depict divine attitudes toward them as well as Dagon, their god.65 Outwitting Philistines as well as waging war against them provide testing grounds for Samson, Saul and David with heroic and tragic results. Similarly, the success and stability of Solomon’s Jerusalem in the 900s BCE, modeled on wider conceptions of a successful ruler and his capital in the ancient Near East, is celebrated and derided in the biblical narratives of 1 Kings. But the movement between history and story also works in the opposite direction. Biblical stories and literary production contribute to knowledge of the past, of the present in which biblical writers transcribe and preserve their stories, and their aspirations for the future. Crafting past historical realities into a dramatic and compelling story with a message and a moral may shape the past in ways that differ from an external record of that earlier time. The appropriation of the past, including its texts, for present purposes influences the discourse of the writer’s time, including descriptions of Israelites and other peoples. This holds true whether that writer be priest or prophet, scribe or poet. Strangers new to the scene, such as the Aramaeans, may create novel dilemmas and dictate innovative responses in the writer’s own time. As such, biblical stories provide additional and complementary data to historical and/or archeological records for an understanding of Israelite attitudes toward other peoples and should be analyzed in their own right. History versus story raises an additional question for a close reading of biblical narrative. The history of any given text must also be taken into account. The final form of the biblical corpus is made up of fragments of texts, individual stories, and a series of stories, some in contradiction to others. A later editor(s) edits, shapes and combines those earlier materials and places them into the larger biblical corpus. In reading any given biblical story, the history of that text and an awareness of its layers contribute to its understanding. In my close reading of selected stories from Exodus and Joshua through 2 Kings, I pay attention to each story’s content, characters, language and plot.

18 Introduction I then consider the context of the individual book or the larger section of the Hebrew Bible in which each story is found. In so doing I take into account the redacted forms of individual stories, especially the ideological views and values of their editors who suppress, argue against or marginalize attitudes and outcomes opposed to their views. At times an editor holds more adversarial views of strangers than the nuanced stories in which those strangers are depicted. It is not always easy to disentangle an editor’s ideology from the stories he has woven together. Yet it is a challenge that must be met. Chapter 7 of the present work, for instance, deals with a series of stories found in 1 and 2 Kings about Aramaeans and Israelites. The final editors attempt to minimize narratives that illustrate compromise, negotiation and even friendship, expressing their distrust and hostility toward both strangers and the Israelite kings of the Northern Kingdom. What may seem under other circumstances to be a wise or diplomatic decision is interpreted in 2 Kings as a royal rejection of divine intent that requires drastic censure. I need to reckon with the editors of the final form even while attempting to untangle editorial comments from the stories themselves. Such an approach demands that I let the text tell us “everything it knows.”66 Luckily, earlier layers are never completely hidden from view in biblical narratives. Editors feel compelled to preserve other traditions or stories. Different points of view and practices become part of biblical tradition. In consequence, matters of great import may be explored and argued over without being resolved. As we shall see, encounters between Israelites and strangers are as diverse and unpredictable as their preservation and transmission in biblical materials. A rich, and at times sprawling, record contains multiple, and often contradictory views and attitudes toward outsiders. I am eager to discover what hovers between the lines or in the margins of the biblical stories, especially biblical alternatives to violence and retribution that may have been minimized or ignored. The record of biblical writers preserved by biblical editors creates, even if inadvertently, a conversation that unfolds over a long period of time. As put by Ron Hendel: “The texts are often overwritten by later texts, creating a complex pastiche of text, reinterpretation and commentary.”67 Only in the final form can one recognize that a dialogue has occurred. Stories well told are ideal vehicles for such a study. The art of biblical narrative exposes the nuance and complexity in human interactions with others. Polarization and simplistic portraits of other peoples, while present, give way, over the course of a plot, to richer characterizations, even at times to uncertainty and ambiguity. My close reading of selected stories relies on the following elements of biblical artistry: characterization and the presence of contrastive characters; language that includes key words and epithets; syntax; dialogue; repetitions; framing of a passage and allusion.68 Different genres at play in the corpus under study include parody, a myth of a golden age, the tale of the hero, and a symposium on strangers, a lively biblical conversation and dialogue carried on over the course of Exodus and Joshua through 2 Kings.

Introduction  19 That very liveliness ensures that these stories would be told and retold over the centuries and has led to their selection for analysis in this study. I choose stories whose length may capture a dynamic in the interactions of a stranger and Israelite over time, such as that of Jethro and Moses, or of the people Israel and Canaanites in Joshua. Other peoples must be considered because of the sheer volume of stories, such as those of the Philistines found in Judges through 1 Samuel or those of the Aramaeans in 1 and 2 Kings. They cannot be ignored. Their biblical presence reflects the important role that both peoples play in the historical record. According to Carl-Johan Axskjold, these two peoples “distinguish themselves as the most important neighboring nations of Israel.”69 Several stories of individual Israelites and strangers appear at a turning point in that individual’s story: Moses and Zipporah, Rahab, Samson and David. Or they appear at a turning point in the people’s history, most obviously as Israelites enter the land in Joshua or during the fall of the Northern Kingdom. Stories of allies are as important as those of enemies. I also consider allies who become enemies or the reverse. Cross-cultural exchanges offer an opportunity to move beyond war stories. These rich encounters include Samson and the Philistines and Solomon, Hiram of Tyre and the Queen of Sheba. Such exchanges may be fueled by sexual desires as well as curiosity, admiration or mutual benefit. Certain archetypes reappear throughout the corpus under study, such as that of non-Israelites who protect the Israelites at moments of considerable danger by offering them temporary sanctuary. These characters may be as different as Rahab, a Canaanite heroine or Achish, a Philistine king. The provision of sanctuary or aid may also work in reverse as in the story of Elisha the prophet and Naaman, an Aramaean commander suffering from leprosy. Foreigners are repeatedly used to legitimate and/or delegitimize Israelite kings just as Israelite kings may subvert or weaken the rule of the kings of other peoples. Stories that introduce other important aspects of the relationships between Israelites and strangers also trigger my interest. Aram is portrayed as first cousin to Rebecca in Genesis, a kin relationship that haunts the story of a shared fate in 2 Kings. The Gibeonites express deep anxiety, as well as a strategic recourse to disguise, when exposed to strangers. Their story also happens to be well told in a rich and humorous fashion. Finally, my interests in the consequences of, and alternatives to, violence influence which stories I have selected. I rely on the narrative arc of Exodus and Joshua through 2 Kings to structure, contain and limit the array of stories so as to keep the materials at a manageable level.

Strangers at the gate The morning of September 11, 2001 I was on a United Airlines plane that didn’t take off. Word had come through that the World Trade Center Towers had been hit. Then I heard about the Pentagon. Soon after, a plane

20 Introduction crashed in a Pennsylvania field. That morning a series of violent acts in the name of religion took countless lives, shocked the world and shattered hope. Violence in the name of religion was not new but its recurrence was a source of despair. The 21st century promised to be a more peaceful and secure time. Yet conflicts between different ethnic groups, peoples and religions were ever more dangerous than in the past. They crossed borders. They occurred anywhere, at any time. In light of that morning I vowed to face my tradition’s sacred writings on violence. As an interpreter of religious texts that continue to shape public discourse and our attitudes toward other peoples, I felt a responsibility to look at, and write about, the darker sides of those texts. I wanted to know the extent of such violence, what were its consequences, and if countervoices existed within biblical narratives. I hoped scholars of other sacred writings might do the same, but my interest did not depend on others. Since violence and aggression in the Hebrew Bible were most often directed at other peoples, though occasionally at other Israelites, I quickly realized I had to situate a study of violence in a larger analysis of Israelites and other peoples. I discovered that Israelites needed to consider not only how to protect themselves from their enemies or how to fight them, but also how to coexist with their neighbors. I recognize that my presuppositions lead me to read biblical texts one way rather than another. Not only do I find violence repugnant, I value dialogue, peace and tolerance. But I began this work to face the violence of my tradition as honestly as possible. Therefore I will do my best to check those presuppositions as an obstacle to the fuller account I seek. I rely on close readings because I have found such an approach defies simplification and allows the text to tell us everything it can. Though echoes of recent events and conflicts haunt any reading of biblical narratives of ancient Israel and her neighbors, I do not intend this work to join contemporary arguments over the Middle East, Israel and the Palestinians. I am not an expert in those matters. But the Hebrew Bible speaks to our time because its writers understood that the people Israel lived in a world of other peoples it could not ignore, a truth equally pertinent now as then. How to respond to that fact, whether in defensiveness or curiosity, is a choice we too must make. In the end, my book makes clear that strangers at the gate persist in their own irreducible particularity.70 They do not go away. Israelites ignore them at their own peril. But strangers present an opportunity as well as a threat. Biblical narratives capture that reality and in so doing offer their readers rejection or tolerance, violence or peace. They may even encourage a different sort of future.

Notes 1 The name extends the Hebrew ger, sojourner, by adding another hebrew letter, a resh, to its spelling. Gerar hints that Abraham’s stay in the place is temporary.

Introduction  21 2 Thomas Römer, Dark God: Cruelty, Sex and Violence in the Old Testament (New York, Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2009), 90 describes Abraham and his God in Genesis as an alternative to an exclusivist God in other parts of the Hebrew Bible. “It is not by chance that the history of the Hebrew people begins by presenting us with a peaceful image of God that counterbalances other biblical images of God as a conqueror.” God as conqueror appears in Chapters 3, 4 and 7 of the present work. 3 For details of both encounters, see my “Reading the Seams,” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 29, 3 (2005): 259–287. 4 Frank Crusemann, “Human Solidarity and Ethnic Identity: Israel’s Self-Definition in the Genealogical System of Genesis,” in Ethnicity and the Bible, ed. Mark G. Brett (Boston, Leiden: Brill Academic Publishers, Inc., 2002), 74–75 captures the genealogical tree of Genesis 1–11. I found the chart’s depiction of the intricacies of human interconnectedness so compelling that I decided to protect it, already torn along its edges, from further damage by slipping it into a plastic cover. A mere chart, now covered in plastic, inspires this work. 5 Crusemann, “Human Solidarity,” 58. 6 Robert Cohn, “Before Israel: The Canaanites as Other in Biblical Tradition,” in The Other in Jewish Thought and History, Constructions of Jewish Culture and Identity, eds. Laurence J. Silberstein and Robert L. Cohn (New York, London: New York University Press, 1994), 75 writes: “While the geographically distant Other need not impinge upon cultural identity, the Other that is close by is always problematic.” 7 E. Theodore Mullen, Jr., Narrative History and Ethnic Boundaries (Atlanta, Georgia: Scholars Press, 1993), 12. 8 Ibid., 88. 9 See Sarah Diamant, “Group Identity in the Hebrew Bible: Moab as a Case of Israelite Self-Identity,” (PhD diss., Jewish Theological Seminary, 2008), 34. 10 Eric A. Seibert, The Violence of Scripture (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2012), 75. 11 Erich S. Gruen, Rethinking the Other in Antiquity (Princeton, Oxford: Princeton University Press, 2011), 3 argues that a “mixed, nuanced and complex opinion of other peoples” was more common in the ancient world than contemporary criticism would suggest. 12 Gruen, Rethinking the Other in Antiquity, 252 labels such a selection a sample rather than a survey. “But the sample is neither random nor peripheral. It includes some of the central figures and narratives. . . .” 13 Deuteronomy is a foundational text for my study since it aims to shape Israelites into a unified people through a shared belief in the Oneness of YHWH and the centralization of God’s temple in Jerusalem. Deuteronomy provides a shared myth of origins, a sense of communal solidarity and an association of the people with a specific territory (E. Theodore Mullen, Narrative History, 88). Its perspective on the uniqueness of Israelites and its suspicion of other peoples pervades Joshua through 2 Kings, providing a backdrop for my analysis. According to Mullen, Joshua through 2 Kings was “a creation whose purpose was to provide a set of boundaries for the community for which it was produced,” 14. I have limited my discussion of Deuteronomy, like that of Genesis, to this introduction. 14 Studies of the ger I found helpful include Jacob Milgrom, JPS Torah Commentary Numbers (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1990), 398–402; Christiana van Houten, The Alien in Israelite Law (Sheffield: JSOT Press, JSOT Supplement Series 107, 1991); Jose E. Ramirez Kidd, Alterity and Identity in Israel, the ‫ גר‬in the Old Testament (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1999); and Mark A. Awabdy, Immigrants and Innovative Law: Deuteronomy’s Theological and Social Vision for the ‘gr’ (Tubingen, Germany: Mohr Siebeck, 2014). 15 Van Houten, The Alien in Israelite Law, 131.

22 Introduction 16 Ibid., 20. 17 Ramirez Kidd, Alterity and Identity in Israel, 130. According to van Houten, The Alien in Israelite Law, 67 the Covenant Code and the Decalogue deal with the ger in three different ways. “They have been protected from general abuse; they have been protected from unfair treatment in the courts and they have been included in the Sabbath rest. It is possible to categorize the laws as requirements dealing with charity, equity and cultic activity.” Examples include Exodus 20:10 and 23:12 (Sabbath rest) and Exodus 22:20 and 23:9 (do not wrong or oppress the ger). The ger ceases from work along with Israelites on the 10th day of the seventh month (Lev 16:29); is included in instructions for burnt offering, avoiding blood, and pouring out an animal’s blood (Lev 17:8, 10, 12, 13), purification after consuming a dead animal (Lev 17:15) and presenting an offering without blemish (Lev 22:18–19). 18 Ramirez Kidd, Alterity and Identity in Israel, 36. The Levites are included along with the gerim in Deut 14:29, 16:11 and 26:11–12. Elsewhere they are singled out as a group dependent on others for material aid, i.e., Numbers 18:21–32. Leviticus links the ger to the poor (Lev 19:10, 23:22). 19 Van Houten, The Alien in Israelite Law, 62. Examples include Deuteronomy 5:14 and 16:11. 20 The pairing of ger and citizen also appears in Leviticus 16:29, 18:26, 24:16, Numbers 15:29–30 and in Joshua 8:33. 21 Rolf Rendtorff, “The Ger in the Priestly Laws of the Pentateuch,” in Ethnicity and the Bible, ed. Mark G. Brett (Boston, Leiden: Brill Academic Publishers, Inc, 2002), 77. 22 Richard Kearney, “Guest or Enemy? Welcoming the Stranger,” June, 2012. www.abc.net.au/religion/articles/2012/06/21/3529859.htm 23 Claudia V. Camp, Wise, Strange and Holy: The Strange Woman and the Making of the Bible (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000), 323. F. V. Greifenhagen, Egypt on the Pentateuch’s Ideological Map, JSOT 361 (Great Britain: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002), 13 hypothesizes that collective identity formation in relation to others in biblical materials is dialectical. Certainly, the boundaries of identity are often marked by negation or contrast, in which the ‘other’ is what one is not and what one must reject in order to be who one is. But the boundaries of identity can also be marked by sublimation or preservation, in which the other is what is complementary to one’s identity. And neither do these two ways need to be mutually exclusive; in fact the actual establishment of boundaries for identity most likely operates dialectically between these two poles. 24 Ann E. Killebrew, Biblical Peoples and Ethnicity: An Archaeological Study of Egyptians, Canaanites, Philistines and Early Israel (Leiden: Brill, 2005), 8. 25 Elizabeth Bloch Smith, “Israelite Ethnicity in Iron I: Archeology Preserves What Is Remembered and What Is Forgotten in Israel’s History,” Journal of Biblical Literature 122 (2003): 403 identified primordial and circumstantial affiliations as key to the development of an ethnic self in her essay. 26 Killebrew, Biblical Peoples and Ethnicity, 8. 27 Ibid., 8–9. 28 Ibid., 9. 29 Ibid., 9. 30 Ibid., 149. 31 Edward L. Greenstein, “The God of Israel and the Gods of Canaan: How Different Were They?” in Proceedings of the Twelfth World Congress of Jewish Studies (1999–2000)-Division A: The Bible and Its World (The Hebrew University, Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2001), 59.

Introduction  23 32 Ronald Hendel, Remembering Abraham (Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press, 2005), 5. 33 E. Theodore Mullen, Jr., Narrative History, 61. 34 Fredrik Barth, Ethnic Groups and Boundaries: The Social Organization of Culture Difference (Long Grove, Illinois: Waveland Press, 1998), 6. 35 Mark G. Brett, “Interpreting Ethnicity: Method, Hermeneutics, Ethics,” in Ethnicity and the Bible, ed. Mark G. Brett (Boston, Leiden: Brill Academic Publishers, Inc., 2002), 10. Ehud Ben Zvi, “Othering, Selfing, ‘Boundarying’ and ‘Cross-Boundarying’ as Interwoven with Socially Shared Memories: Some Observations,” in Imagining the Other and Constructing Israelite Identity in the Early Second Temple Period, eds. Ehud Ben Zvi and Diana V Edelman (London, New Delhi, New York, Sydney: Bloomsbury T & T Clark, 2014), 20 lists all the ways in which ‘othering’ has been discussed in recent years. 36 See Jeremy Schipper and Candida R. Moss, eds. Disability Studies and Biblical Literature (New York: Palgreve Macmillan, 2011), Amy Kalmanofsky, Dangerous Sisters of the Hebrew Bible (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2014). 37 Nyasha Junior and Jeremy Schipper, “Mosaic Disability and Identity in Exodus 4:10; 6:12, 30” in Biblical Interpretation 16 (2008): 428–441. 38 Claudia Camp, “Gender and Identity in the Book of Numbers,” in Imagining the Other and Constructing Israelite Identity in the Early Second Temple Period, eds. Ehud Ben Zvi and Diana V. Edelman (London, New Delhi, New York, Sydney: Bloomsbury T & T Clark, 2014), 106. 39 Claudia Camp, Wise, Strange and Holy, 28–29. 40 Claudia Camp, “Gender and Identity,” 105. 41 Peter Machinist, “The Rab Saqeh at the Wall of Jerusalem: Israelite Identity in the Face of the Assyrian ‘Other,’ ” Hebrew Studies 41(2000): 167. 42 David Jobling and Catherine Rose, “Reading as a Philistine: The Ancient and Modern History of a Cultural Slur,” in Ethnicity and the Bible, ed. Mark G. Brett (Boston, Leiden: Brill Academic Publishers, Inc., 2002), 382. 43 Judith E. Mckinlay, “Slipping Across Borders and Bordering on Conquest: A Contrapuntal Reading of Numbers 13 in Bible, Borders, Belonging(s), Engaging Readings From Oceania, eds. Jione Havea, David J. Neville and Elaine M. Wainwright (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2014), 126. 44 Jeremiah W. Cataldo, “The Other: Sociological Perspectives in a Postcolonial Age,” in Imagining the Other and Constructing Israelite Identity in the Early Second Temple Period, eds. Ehud Ben Zvi and Diana V Edelman (London, New Delhi, New York, Sydney: Bloomsbury T & T Clark, 2014), 1–2. 45 Assyria to Iberia at the Dawn of the Classical Age, eds. Joan Aruz, Sarah B. Graff and Yelena Rakic (New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, distributed by New Haven, London: Yale University Press, 2014), contains a series of essays and a visual introduction to the archeology, history and material culture of the Aramaeans, Moabites, Israelites, Assyrians and Babylonians. 46 Cataldo, “The Other,” 4. 47 Ehud Ben Zvi, “Othering, Selfing, ‘Boundarying’ and ‘Cross-Boundarying,’ ” 27. 48 Merilyn Clark, “Mapping the Boundaries of Belonging: Another Look at Jacob’s Story,” in Bible, Borders, Belonging(s) Engaging Readings From Oceania, eds. Jione Havea, David J. Neville and Elaine M. Wainwright (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2014), 111. 49 Diamant, “Group Identity in the Hebrew Bible,” 176. 50 Victor Matthews, Writing and Reading War, Rhetoric, Gender and Ethics in Biblical and Modern Contexts, eds. Brad E. Kelle and Frank Ritchel Ames (Atlanta: Society for Biblical Literature, 2008), 5 n.10. 51 John J. Collins, “The Zeal of Phinehas: The Bible and the Legitimation of Violence,” Journal of Biblical Literature 122/1 (2003): 10.

24 Introduction 52 Ibid., 10. 53 Ibid., 11. 54 Ibid., 8. 55 Jacob L. Wright, “War and Peace in the Bible,” in The Jewish Study Bible, Second edition, eds. Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler (New York: Oxford University Press, 2014), 2047. 56 Ibid., 2042. 57 Susan Niditch, “Foreword,” in Writing and Reading War Rhetoric, Gender and Ethics in Biblical and Modern Contexts, eds. Brad E. Kelle and Frank Ritchel Ames (Atlanta: SBL, 2008), xii. 58 John J. Collins, “The Zeal of Phinehas,” 19. 59 William W. Emilsen and John T. Squires, “Introduction,” in Validating ViolenceViolating Faith? Religion, Scripture and Violence, eds. William W. Emilsen and John T. Squires (Adelaide: ATF, 2008), xiii. 60 See Killebrew, Biblical Peoples and Ethnicity, 94. 61 See Chapter 5 for recent works on the early period of the monarchy. 62 Oded Lipschitz, “The History of Israel in the Biblical Period,” in The Jewish Study Bible, 2nd edition, eds. Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler (New York: Oxford University Press, 2014), 2111. 63 They also do so in poetic, prophetic and legal forms but I am mainly focused on prose narratives. 64 Lipschitz, “The History of Israel in the Biblical Period,” 2107. 65 See Lukasz Niesiolowski-Spano, Goliath’s Legacy, Philistines and Hebrews in Biblical Times (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2016) for a detailed and wideranging discussion of the historical Philistines. The work also contains an excellent bibliography. 66 James L. Kugel, The God of Old, Inside the Lost World of the Bible (New York: The Free Press, 2003), 1–2. 67 Ronald Hendel, Remembering Abraham, ix. 68 I am indebted to Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative (New York: Basic Books, Inc., 1981). 69 Carl-Johan Axskjold, Aram as the Enemy Friend: The Ideological Role of Aram in the Composition of Genesis-2 Kings (Stockholm: Almqvuist and Wiksell International, 1998), 64. 70 In a paraphrase of Timothy Beal, “Facing Job,” in Levinas and Biblical Studies, eds. Tamara Eskenazi, Gary Phillips and David Jobling (Atlanta: Society for Biblical Literature, 2003), 67.

Part 1

The wilderness journey and its end

2 Inside out Jethro and the Midianites

Fleeing for his life from an Egyptian pharaoh, Moses finds sanctuary in the tent of a Midianite priest. A few years later that same priest, Jethro, by then father-in-law to Moses, finds his Israelite son-in-law camped at the foot of Mt. Sinai just before the people Israel hear the words of YHWH. When informed that Jethro is approaching the camp, Moses hurries to greet him: “and he bowed low and kissed him and each asked after the peace of the other and they went into the tent” (Ex 18:7). The tents of Jethro and Moses provide the backdrop for an intimate and enduring connection between the priest of Midian and the prophet of Israel. Yet such a promising collaboration is brutally disrupted 40 years later in front of yet a different tent, the sacred Tent of Meeting (Num 25:6). Phinehas, grandson of Aaron the priest, unhesitatingly stabs an Israelite man and the Midianite woman he brought into the camp in front of the entire community (Num 25:8).1 As these vignettes suggest, attitudes toward strangers, in this case Midianites, exist on a broad spectrum in the Hebrew Bible. They may be critiqued, attacked and brutalized, or praised, respected and at times quite purposefully included: “And you shall celebrate in everything good that YHWH Your God has given you and to your house, you and the Levite and the stranger that is in your midst” (Deut 26:11). The treatment of the Midianites encompasses both ends of that spectrum. The Midianite priest Jethro is welcomed as a trusted advisor and valued participant in the communal life of the Israelites at a crucial early stage in their formation.2 The Midianites as a group come to represent a sexual and idolatrous threat and are ruthlessly attacked by the Israelites. Taken together, the stories of Jethro and that of the Midianites allow one to ask: “Upon what basis is one sort of outsider to be tolerated and another to be banned . . .?”3 A close reading of the pertinent texts provides some answers. In particular I examine the assumptions and anxieties that fuel such diametrically opposed biblical views of Jethro and the Midianites. The reading that follows highlights the crucial role a stranger plays in the development of a subject’s identity. An individual (Moses) and a collective (the people Israel) learn something about themselves by interacting with Midianites at this early stage in the formation of the people Israel. Moses

28  The wilderness journey and its end gains self-knowledge through identifying what he is not. This holds true on the collective level as well. Whether as ally, threat or scapegoat, the presence of strangers galvanizes and unifies a group. Values are clarified, and particular beliefs or practices confirmed, through interactions with strangers.4 In the present case Moses and the Israelites must determine questions of definition as well as how to structure their fledgling community. Who belongs and who does not is an urgent question in that endeavor. Jethro and the Midianites play crucial roles in the process.5 Insider or out, Israelite and Midianite are creatures of language, narrated into being within Torah by means of literary art. I will illustrate the extent to which language does the work of fashioning self and stranger through precisely deployed epithets, key words, contrasting characterizations of important personages, and framing devices. Only through a close reading may we glimpse the narrative process in which relations between Israelites and Midianites are constituted and challenged.

In the tent of Jethro Chapter 2 of Exodus introduces us to Midian before we actually meet its priest. Midian exists outside of the Pharaoh’s sphere: And the Pharaoh heard of this thing [that Moses had slain an Egyptian] and sought to kill Moses and Moses escaped from Pharaoh and settled in the land of Midian and sat down beside a well. Ex 2:15 Midian offers Moses refuge in contrast to Egypt, now a land of danger. Who is considered a stranger in the story is fluid. While Midianites are strangers to the reader, from the Midianite perspective, Moses is the stranger. Moses begins his life in Midian by defending the seven daughters of a local priest against shepherds who drive the girls away as they attempt to water their flock (Ex 2:17). The choice of verb in this scene is precise. The shepherds “drive away” ‫ ויגרשום‬the seven daughters, a word choice that hints at recent events in Moses’ past since he too has been driven away from the land of his birth.6 That past reasserts its hold on Moses in the name he gives his son: Gershom. In an echo of the verb ‘drive away,’ the name means ‘a stranger there.’ Distance provides Moses perspective on major events in his life. Noticing that his daughters have returned earlier than usual from the well, their father Reuel (Jethro) demands an explanation.7 When they recount the events, including their rescue by an Egyptian, Reuel reproaches them for leaving the Egyptian behind. “And where is he? Why did you leave this man? Call him and he shall eat bread” (Ex 2:20). “And where is he?” is uttered in such a succinct fashion as to imply the father’s incredulity. His daughters failed to properly express their gratitude by bringing the outsider into his tent.

Inside out: Jethro and the Midianites  29 Does Jethro consider Moses a threat, an ally or a superior whom he must placate? Is Jethro acting out of self-interest by identifying Moses as a prospective partner for one of his daughters? Or is the Midianite culture one that prizes hospitality? The laconic text gives us little with which to answer those questions.8 Yet the exchange between Jethro and his daughters suggests that Jethro senses no threat since he readily invites the stranger into his tent. He expresses no fear. Breaking bread (rather than reaching for a weapon or placating the stranger with a gift) is a generous act dictated by Moses’ behavior as protector of Jethro’s daughters. Moses’ actions, rather than his alleged ethnic affiliation, are the chief influence in shaping Jethro’s attitude toward him. Jethro’s openness to Moses testifies to his ability to “discern and discriminate . . . to invoke certain criteria to determine whether the person coming into your home [tent] is going to destroy your family or is going to enter your home in a way that, where possible, is mutually enhancing.”9 Jethro’s evaluation of Moses is based on a concrete instance rather than a theoretical abstraction, confirming a claim made by Jonathan Z. Smith, “Despite its apparent taxonomic exclusivity, ‘otherness’ is a transactional matter. . . .”10 Jethro’s invitation ends up benefitting both men. Moses is a striking example of the elusiveness and impermanence of any given label as he is an Egyptian who is actually an Israelite about to settle in the tents of a Midianite. This happens immediately. After Jethro’s order to his daughters to bring the Egyptian stranger into their tent, Moses consents to “settle with the man” who gives Moses his daughter Zipporah as his wife (Ex 2:21).11 Family ties make Jethro less strange to Moses. Those ties are poignantly, though subtly, defined. The preposition “with” – ‫את‬ – may connote a positive and intimate connection or partnership, as when Eve has a male ‘with’ the aid of God in Genesis 4:1.12 While the early interactions between Moses and Jethro may register the labels of ‘stranger’ and ‘insider,’ those labels seem of glancing consequence and little tangible import. This first description of Moses’ relations with Jethro concludes with the birth and naming of Moses’ son. Leaving Egypt behind, Moses looks back on his life there. As he does so he identifies feelings of alienation and estrangement. In naming his son, Moses acknowledges: “I have been a stranger in a foreign land” (Ex 2:22). This brief speech suggests a sudden realization of a hidden truth. Moses has been a stranger to himself. Self and stranger are momentarily fused. The ‘other’ in Moses’ early life is none other than Moses himself.13 Could this sense of an alienated self who existed in the past but not in the present contribute to Moses’ gratitude toward Jethro as a benign figure, allowing Moses to develop a more integrated identity? In just a few verses a great deal has happened to him, all of it thanks to Jethro. Safely settled, protected from a threat to his life, married and now a father, Moses finds Midian a land in which he can flourish. The place transforms Moses even if he is not completely at home. Merilyn Clark’s comment about Jacob holds equally true of Moses at this moment in his story: “Separation and

30  The wilderness journey and its end protection prove crucial for new ways, new worldviews, a new culture and a new identity to emerge within a transitory lifestyle marked by alienation.”14 Specifically, Moses doesn’t feel like a stranger here, in Midian, but only there, in Egypt. He is secure. He is almost at home. The length of Moses’ stay is indicated in the announcement of the death of his foe, the Egyptian pharoah “a long time after that . . .” (Ex 2:23). Exodus 3 opens as Moses tends the flock of Jethro, designated as “his father-in-law, the priest of Midian.” Moses leaves behind the geographic sphere of the Midianite when he encounters God at the burning bush. But as soon as the wilderness encounter ends, Moses returns to the tents of Jethro (Jether) in Exodus 4:18. He does so only to seek Jethro’s permission to return to Egypt. Moses does not divulge his encounter with God or God’s instructions. Nor does the narrator provide an explanation for Moses’ reticence. In a striking contrast to that omission, a few verses later Moses meets and tells Aaron “all the words of God” (4:28). The detail serves to highlight Moses’ reserve with Jethro. The narrator creates a distinction between the kind of inclusive relationship that Moses develops with YHWH and with Aaron (the future high priest of Israel) and the more distant relationship he maintains with Jethro, the priest of Midian. Moses’ omission keeps Jethro from knowledge of YHWH. As put by Claudia Camp, Jethro “holds open the space that Aaron will eventually occupy.”15 In spite of his earlier intimacy with Jethro, a boundary has now been created between them. The episode at the burning bush and its repercussions illustrates that religious identity – God versus gods – may create a distinction between Israelite and Midianite. Moses exits the tent of Jethro, never to return. Jethro’s response to Moses’ departure introduces a word that is associated with Jethro twice more in Exodus 18. He tells Moses to go in “peace.” By using the word three times in connection to Jethro the narrator shapes our view of Jethro as a peaceful Midianite. Only later will the religious distinction between Midianite and Israelite erupt in violence. In the meantime Moses exchanges the safety of Midian for that of a dangerous land, Egypt, in order to take his people to yet another land, this one flowing with milk and honey. Moses will lead his people to the land of his fathers (Ex 3:16–17), not to the land of his father-in-law. Physical territory repeatedly provides a backdrop for the experiences and shifting affiliations of Moses’ life. Egypt is a land he must escape, Midian a land that shelters him, but only temporarily, while Israel is a land of the future. Ultimately Israel is a land that Moses himself will never reach. The major portion of Moses’ life, as well as God’s instructions to him, occurs in none of those lands, but in the wilderness. The vastness of the wilderness, with its shifting sands and undeveloped territory that obscure distinct borders, becomes a fitting backdrop for a figure who repeatedly defies borders as he crosses back and forth between Midian and Egypt.

Inside out: Jethro and the Midianites  31 The wilderness also has unexpected dangers. God inexplicably attacks Moses as he travels to Egypt. He is saved thanks only to the quickness of his wife Zipporah. As suggested by Claudia Camp, “The Strange Woman plays the role of a savior who overcomes the deadliness of YHWH, as dramatic a reversal of expected roles as ever there was.”16 A Midianite yet again protects Moses from danger by transforming a threatening spot in the wilderness into a safe place. Inexplicably, Moses has not circumcised his son. Perhaps Moses’ failure to circumcise the infant signals a continued confusion over his ethnic identity. Moses, an Israelite raised as an Egyptian becomes a father in Midian. Jeremy Schipper and Nyasha Junior point out that Egyptians circumcise males but not as infants!17 Whatever the cause for his omission, Zipporah’s cool-headed act, performing a circumcision on their son, wards off the divine attack. The covenant between God and Moses is preserved and will continue into the next generation. Ironically, that covenant excludes the Midianites. Only after Zipporah rescues Moses does the story of Israel’s liberation from oppression unfold. Note that Zipporah anticipates her father’s subsequent behavior in recognizing the presence of YHWH in Exodus 18.18 God’s “encounter” with Moses (Ex 4:24) is followed, thanks to Zipporah, by Aaron’s successful “encounter” with Moses the next day (Ex 4:27). Not only does Zipporah prove crucial to the survival of Moses and his mission but she is the bridge between Jethro and Aaron in the life of Moses. This biblical story illustrates that ‘self’ and ‘stranger’ are not fixed categories but fluid and interchangeable. Gender does not constrain agency as illustrated in the pivotal role played by Zipporah. Nor does ethnic classification appear particularly significant. Behavior is the more important criterion for interaction and the building of trust. Moses’ attitude toward strangers is situational and circumstantial rather than automatic. This is true not only in the present example but also, as we shall see, when the Israelites cross into the Promised Land. Moses’ inner state as he reflects on ‘self’ and ‘stranger’ is a rare biblical portrayal of introspection. He is able to acknowledge himself to be other than his previous Egyptian self only after leaving Egypt behind. He begins to understand himself through his intimacy with his Midianite family, Jethro and Zipporah. The distance between Midian and Egypt is symbolically meaningful, creating both mental space and perspective on the past so that Moses can reflect on people and events taking place not only elsewhere in space, but elsewhere in time. But after Moses encounters God at the burning bush, religious distinctions emerge. The literal land of the fathers versus the land of the father-in-law reinforces a figurative boundary.19

The priest of Midian The Midianite priest resurfaces 14 chapters later to play a crucial role in Exodus 18 not only in the life of Moses but in the development of the people Israel. The placement of this new chapter in Jethro’s relationship to Moses

32  The wilderness journey and its end seems out of order. Based on Exodus 18:5, Jethro meets Moses at the mountain of God. Yet the people Israel arrive there only in the next chapter. The medieval Jewish commentator Radak offers an explanation for the sequence that also addresses the issue of Israelites and strangers. Radak proposes that Exodus 18 is placed where it is in spite of its contradiction with the Israelites’ arrival at Sinai in chapter 19 because it creates a purposeful juxtaposition with the chapter that precedes it, Exodus 17, in which Israel battles the Amalekites.20 Two peoples, Amalekites and Midianites, encounter the Israelites in the wilderness. The Israelites must learn the lesson of Abraham, who has to distinguish the threats of the pharaoh of Egypt from the just protestations of mistreatment leveled against him by Avimelech, king of Gerar. Moses has also learned to distinguish between an Egyptian pharaoh and a Midianite priest. So too must the people Israel learn to make distinctions. They must distinguish the making of war against Amalekites from the making of peace with Midianites (though the Israelites will end up battling Midianites near journey’s end in Numbers). Such a distinction seems crucial for the newly formed children of Israel and their leader. Chapters 17 and 18 of Exodus create an “intentional antithesis between the wicked foreigner Amalek and the righteous foreigner Jethro.”21 Exodus 18:1 reintroduces Jethro as a priest of Midian and father-in-law of Moses. There are three significant occasions in the texts involving Jethro in which the “priest of Midian” introduces the scene (Ex 2:16, 3:1 and 18:1). Each occurs at an important juncture in Moses’ life. In the first scene, Moses settles in the tents of Jethro and is protected. In the second scene, he must leave those tents in order to encounter God at the burning bush and receive his mission. In Exodus 18 Jethro enters the tent of Moses to provide him guidance at a crucial moment before he can fulfill God’s mission. Jethro’s identity as a Midianite priest is highlighted at moments in which borders are crossed during arrivals and departures. At first it is Moses who is the stranger, coming from elsewhere and then leaving Jethro behind. Now in Exodus 18 it is Jethro who is the stranger, replacing Moses in that role. As an outsider, Jethro possesses a clarity that allows him to offer useful advice to Moses that will benefit the Israelites. Additionally, as a Midianite priest, Jethro’s favorable evaluation of YHWH carries significant weight and influences Moses and the Israelites in accepting Jethro’s proposed judicial structure to implement God’s laws after Sinai. Jethro’s essential contribution to the religious life of Israel illustrates the benefits of creative interaction between the Israelites and a Midianite priest. Everywhere else in Exodus 18 the narrator refers to Jethro not as the “priest of Midian” but as “father-in-law” to Moses. Jethro exemplifies the shifting nature of a label just as Moses did earlier in his life. The use of “father-in-law” is particularly pronounced in Exodus 18, occurring 13 times, requiring an explanation. “Father-in-law” makes Jethro an insider as well as an outsider. Perhaps the biblical writer accepts Jethro’s role as a key advisor to Moses only after emphasizing Jethro’s familial connection.

Inside out: Jethro and the Midianites  33 Jethro intends to reunite Moses with his daughter and restore her to her proper place in the tent of her husband: “And Jethro, father-in-law of Moses took Zipporah, wife of Moses after she had been sent” (Ex 18:2). Only now do we learn that Zipporah had been sent back to her father. ‘Taking’ and ‘sending’ capture the ways in which the Israelite and the Midianite negotiate both their closer and more distant interactions. In seeking to reunite Moses and Zipporah, Jethro acts as father-in-law rather than priest. Yet Jethro fails to reunite Moses and Zipporah.22 Jethro’s relationship to Moses, not Zipporah, takes central stage. Moses’ distance from Zipporah extends to his sons who have also accompanied Jethro on the journey. As the narrator lists the sons of Moses, he repeats the meaning of their names (including “I was a stranger in a foreign land”). The reference reminds us that in becoming a father, Moses realized the extent of his alienation from Egypt and found a home in Midian. By bringing Moses’ wife and sons with him, Jethro seeks to reintegrate that period in Moses’ life, along with his family, with the present moment in the Israelite camp. While Jethro relies on genealogy to re-establish an insider status for Moses’ family, his success is equivocal. Moses welcomes and attends to his father-in-law but ignores his wife and children. Familial ties may influence the degree of closeness and distance between a self and a stranger, Moses and Jethro, but its import and reach varies significantly. T. B. Dozeman offers a possible motive for Moses’ detachment: “The author provides no information about the offspring of either Gershom or Eliezer, which would require the author to merge the two groups, Midianites and Israelites, into one line of descent.”23 In the end, Exodus 18 considerably weakens not only the ties of genealogy but of marriage and family. The episode establishes Moses’ permanent aloofness from his wife and sons. Moses is a character who stands alone. He is portrayed as “superior to sentiment and domesticity . . . the Torah is almost entirely indifferent to Moses’ role as procreator . . . His office isolates him not only from his people but even from his own family.”24 Jethro the Midianite succeeds in breaking that isolation, but only temporarily. In the end Moses sends him back to Midian. Exodus 18 says nothing at all about the fate of Zipporah and the sons of Moses. The weakening of family ties sets the stage for violence in the next generation when Israelites encounter Midianites in Numbers.

Jethro and Moses Meanwhile, Moses goes out to greet his father-in-law, overcoming the distance between them by kissing Jethro (Ex 18:7). They speak in “peace” to one another, the idiom of encounter, and an echo of Jethro’s earlier wish that Moses go in peace (Ex 4:18). Moses has not forgotten the sanctuary provided him by Jethro. Jethro remains a safe figure, a figure of peace. Without hesitation Moses welcomes Jethro into his tent.

34  The wilderness journey and its end Moses drops his earlier reticence with Jethro now that the events of the Exodus are behind him. He informs his father-in-law of everything that God did to Pharoah and the Egyptians on behalf of Israel. He describes the “hardships” encountered so far on their journey (Ex 18:8). That additional phrase hints at the intimate nature of the relationship between the two men. The conversation is not just a chronicle of God’s glorious actions, but of the reality of Moses’ life as he took the Israelites out of Egypt. Moses’ disclosure suggests that he sees Jethro at the very least as a confidant and perhaps as a mentor. He does not relate to him as a stranger. Jethro’s response to Moses’ description of the journey provides a possible explanation for the highly positive way in which he will be viewed and treated in the camp not just by Moses, Aaron and the elders, but also by the writer. Just as Jethro initially judged the Egyptian Moses favorably because of his actions without regard to ethnic identity, the actions Jethro is about to take trigger a positive Israelite appraisal of him regardless of his being a Midianite. An even more nuanced appraisal takes place. Jethro is appreciated precisely because he is a Midianite who praises God. After listening to Moses, Jethro quickly recognizes the essential point. God has delivered Israel from Egypt: And Jethro rejoiced at all the good that YHWH did for Israel when He rescued them from the hand of Egypt. And Jethro said, “Blessed is YHWH who rescued you from the hand of Egypt and from the hand of Pharaoh, who saved the people from under the hand of Egypt.” Ex 18:9–10 In contrast to Moses’ reticence about YHWH with Jethro after the burning bush, Jethro declares his recognition of YHWH publicly. “Now I know that YHWH is greater than all the gods . . .” (Ex 18:11). A public acknowledgement of God’s superior might is precisely what God sought in inflicting the ten plagues on Pharaoh and the Egyptians. Pharaoh was disastrously slow in grasping that divine power. In contrast, upon hearing the news, Jethro immediately acknowledges God’s superiority. Strangers are again juxtaposed to one another: an Egyptian pharaoh (instead of the Amalekites in Ex 17) and a Midianite priest.25 Since God cares about the divine reputation among the nations of the world, it is Jethro’s status as a Midianite that makes his praise so valuable. Propp suggests that the biblical author might have even accepted Jethro as a Yahweh-worshiper.26 For present purposes, it is the placement of Jethro’s public proclamation, coming as it does before his suggestion for a new organizational structure, which is significant. Jethro’s statement paves the way for Moses and the Israelites to more easily accept his counsel. As a Midianite, Jethro’s praise of God creates an ironic contrast to that of the insiders, the Israelites themselves, throwing a negative light on the Israelites’ behavior since their departure from Egypt. Jethro’s celebration of God’s liberation of the Israelites follows soon after the Israelites’ desire

Inside out: Jethro and the Midianites  35 to return to Egypt, as noted in Exodus 16:3 (“if only we had died . . . in Egypt”) and Exodus 17:3 (“Why did you bring us up from Egypt . . .”). Jethro sees clearly what Israelites glimpse only fleetingly amidst moments punctuated by hunger, thirst and complaint. The contrast between his praise and their grumbling constitutes a withering critique of their preoccupations. A stranger in the camp heightens Israelite limitations that eventually end in God’s condemnation of them. Not only does Jethro call God by name, YHWH, but he also pays homage to God ritually through sacrifice and a shared meal with Aaron and the Elders of Israel. By taking these actions, Jethro becomes more ‘like us’ than ‘not like us.’27

An outsider’s gaze Having successfully established Jethro’s legitimacy as one who admires YHWH, the narrator observes him observing Moses. Jethro’s gaze suggests his usefulness as an outsider who can analyze a situation because he is not part of the community. He has little stake in it and therefore can be objective. What Jethro sees dismays him. He realizes that Moses is not governing the tribes effectively. Jethro expostulates with Moses: “What is this thing that you are doing to the people?” (Ex 18:14) and “This thing is not good that you are doing” (Ex 18:17). He challenges Moses’s maintenance of leadership solely in his own hands. God echoes Jethro’s recommendation that Moses share the burden of leadership in Numbers 11. In contrast to the laconic speeches elsewhere in biblical narrative, Jethro delivers an astonishingly long monologue of seven verses. He proposes a more efficient organization of the process of adjudication, suggesting that Moses share his responsibilities with other Israelites. In offering his advice, Jethro carefully and repeatedly refers to Elohim, doing so at least five times (Ex 18:19, 21, 23). He shows himself to be a shrewd advisor, distinguishing between major and minor matters. He instructs and perhaps reassures Moses that he should continue to listen to major matters while appointing others to deal with minor affairs. The criteria Jethro sets out for Moses in picking his assistants reflects his astuteness and his experience. Moses is to discern among the Israelites men who fear God, men of truth, who hate ill-gotten gain. At the same time Jethro gives Moses a personal reason for listening to him, having to do with the preservation of Moses’ strength over the long term. Jethro concludes his counsel in Exodus 18:23 with the assurance that if his instructions are followed, the people will return to their places in peace. Note that this word “peace” has now been uttered at least three times in connection to Jethro’s presence in the narrative (Ex 4:18; 18:7, 23). In fact, it is the last word uttered by Jethro. As the last word on Jethro, it affirms his figure in wholly positive terms. Jethro is a master of effective rhetoric. Moses does exactly as Jethro counsels: “And Moses heard the voice of his father-in-law and did all that he

36  The wilderness journey and its end said” (Ex 18:24). In the next two verses Moses implements Jethro’s suggestions in identical language. Quite remarkably, Moses listens to the “voice” of his father-in-law, the precise language that anticipates God’s revelation and Israel’s response in Exodus 19 (in verses 5 and 19). The placement of Jethro’s advice to Moses in chapter 18, just prior to God’s revelation in Exodus 19, suggests that the building of a nation requires both human and divine wisdom. The necessary human wisdom, so our example indicates, is that of a Midianite priest.28 The placement of these two chapters presents an unmistakable valorization of the outsider Jethro, the Midianite priest.29 Jethro nicely illustrates Joel Kaminsky’s insight: “Non-elect peoples were always considered fully part of the divine economy, and in a very real sense, Israel was to work out her destiny in relation to them, even if in separation from them.”30 In spite of his importance, Jethro does not have a permanent position in the camp of Moses. “And Moses sent his father-in-law and he went to his land” (Ex 18:27). “Send” strikes an ominous tone, reminding us of how Moses “sent” away his wife Zipporah. Just as Moses discarded his Egyptian past, he now disengages from this significant figure from his Midianite past. In the present and in the future that stretches ahead of him, Moses must remain the unquestioned leader of the Israelite community, advised ultimately by God, not by Jethro. Therefore he re-establishes a clear distance from his father-in-law. Just as we observed the frame imposed on Moses’ life in Midian, so too we observe the frame imposed on Jethro’s life in the camp of Israel. Each frame ensures that the contact between Jethro and Moses will be limited. Before moving on from an analysis of a relationship between two individuals, Moses and Jethro, to that of their two peoples, the following can be added to Jethro’s early portrait. The Midianite priest illustrates that it is possible to have an intimate relationship with a stranger that can continue over time. As an outsider, Jethro clearly sees not only the needs of Moses and his people but also the accomplishments of YHWH with a clarity sorely lacking in Israel. He becomes an invaluable advisor, shrewd and strategic. His Midianite identity does not prevent such a positive assessment. On the contrary, as a Midianite priest, Jethro’s affirmation of the superiority of YHWH is greatly valued. However, in spite of this positive depiction of Jethro, as well as ties of genealogy and marriage between Midianite and Israelite, the distance between the two individuals, and ultimately their people, is reinforced.

Israelites and Midianites Exodus 18 invites Israelites to distinguish between different kinds of strangers – Egyptians and Amalekites on one hand and Midianites on the other. The violent story in the book of Numbers erases that distinction, placing the

Inside out: Jethro and the Midianites  37 Midianites in the category against whom Israel will show open hostility and engage in battle.31 Before violence erupts, Moses beseeches another Midianite, Hobab, son of Reuel the Midianite, father-in-law of Moses, in Numbers 10:29–32, to accompany the Israelites to the Promised Land as their guide through the wilderness rather than return to his own land. In exchange, Moses offers to extend God’s bounty to Hobab. Moses beseeches Hobab a second time to remain with the Israelites on their journey, but Hobab does not respond. The episode is short and jarring. It seems extraneous since it follows descriptions of alternative systems of guidance: smoke and fire (clearly divine in nature) in chapter 9 of Numbers and trumpets in chapter 10. Moses’ entreaty to Hobab precedes the proclamation in Numbers 10:35–36 that God’s ark will lead the way. Why then does Moses need a Midianite guide? Kaminsky suggests that the episode’s placement in Numbers 10 functions as a bridge between the warm relations of Jethro and Moses and the violent, shocking change in relations between Israelites and Midianites that will follow.32 Perhaps Hobab’s possible rejection of Moses’ generous offer (if in fact he does reject it) leads to Israelite anger and disappointment. Certainly by the end of Numbers past friends and potential future allies have been turned into enemies. The opposing views found in Exodus and Numbers confirm that within the Torah there is a “dialectic of sharing and distancing, of inclusion and estrangement.”33 The violent Israelite treatment of the Midianites in Numbers leads to far more severe consequences than mere estrangement. Ideas of what it means to be an Israelite insider and a Midianite stranger change in a radical way in Numbers. Regardless of the actual dating of the texts in Numbers, their placement sequentially at a later date in the wilderness journey than the events in Exodus turns the broader conflict between the Israelites and the Midianites into a de facto response to the close relationship of Jethro and Moses as well as Moses’ marriage to Zipporah. The violent exchanges in Numbers function in the Torah’s final form as a commentary on the earlier stories. The Midianites are now presented as seductive and threatening idolaters. The juxtaposition of Jethro’s story with that of the later conflict between Israelites and Midianites illustrates that strangers are “available as an all-purpose topos; it little matters what they are ‘really’ like.”34 In Numbers 25, Israelite men are interested in Moabite women: “The people began to whore with the daughters of Moab” (Num 25:1). In an earlier episode, Numbers 22:7, Moabites are closely paired with Midianites and as we shall see, the real target in Numbers 25 appears to be the Midianites, not the Moabites. A conflation between Moabite and Midianite has occurred (i.e., Numbers 25:1 versus 25:6).35 Such a blurring of labels confirms the notion that strangers are sometimes used not as particular individuals but as that ‘all-purpose topos,’ especially apparent when the identity of the offending party is unclear.

38  The wilderness journey and its end In Numbers 25:2, the daughters of Moab call the people Israel to their sacrifices. The Israelites eat and bow low to the Moabite gods. The narrator announces in verse 3 that Israel has “attached itself” to Baal-peor. They have fled the God of Israel for the gods of the Moabites. It takes only three verses to embrace the worship of Moab. These verses try to make the case that sexual encounters with outsiders are so effective that they instantaneously lead to religious promiscuity and idolatry. While Moses’ religious encounter with God in Exodus 3 created a distance between Moses and Jethro, this time gods trigger a far more dramatic and violent rupture against outsiders and those Israelites who engage in such behaviors. Both are targeted for death. My reading of the scenes in the late chapters of Numbers, as well as the conclusions I reach concerning the priestly ruthlessness in handling the Midianites, echoes that of Dozeman. A priestly rejection of marriage between an Israelite and a Midianite, concern over Israelite worship of other gods, and, more unexpectedly, anxiety about possible non-Israelite worship of YHWH, fuel the violence of the confrontations between Israelites and Midianites. According to Dozeman, the close relationship between Jethro and Moses, and especially Jethro’s willingness to accept the power of YHWH, exemplifies: “a charismatic orientation to religion, which allows for degrees of religious experience of YHWH through a variety of cultic settings. The Priestly author . . . excludes such a possibility by arguing for the purity of only one form of YHWH’s cult and a single line of priestly leaders.”36 Immediately after the episode with the Moabites in the opening verses of Numbers 25, another crisis follows that reinforces that single line of priestly leaders while also severely condemning sexual encounters between Israelites and Midianites. Phinehas, grandson of Aaron, identifies and extinguishes the new threat. In Numbers 25:7, spear in hand, Phinehas creates a deterrent against sexual encounters by graphically slaying an Israelite man and Midianite woman observed by the children of Israel in intimate contact: “And behold a man from the children of Israel came and brought close to his brothers a Midianite woman, [in sight of] . . . the eyes of Moses and the eyes of all the assembly of the children of Israel and they were crying at the opening of the Tent of Assembly” (Num 25:6). This mixed Israelite and Midianite couple represents a version of Moses and Zipporah. But according to Numbers 25, sex with an outsider threatens religious boundaries. Phinehas kills the couple in close proximity to the sacred space of the Tent of Assembly. In stark contrast to Jethro, who was welcomed into the wilderness camp while accompanied by Moses’ Midianite wife, the Israelite man and the Midianite woman he has brought into the camp in Numbers 25 are now ‘kept out’ through death. Phinehas’ status as grandson of Aaron is a crucial dimension of the story. God establishes an eternal covenant of priesthood with him. Within the politics of Numbers, singling out Phinehas reinforces a priestly hierarchy in which sons of Aaron dominate Levites. But this story does more. It demands

Inside out: Jethro and the Midianites  39 that Israelite priests reject the intermingling of Israel and Midian. This is so even if Moses had a Midianite wife and a wise and respected priestly fatherin-law who freely entered the tents of Israel. This is so in spite of Aaron’s shared meal with Jethro. Jethro’s status as a Midianite priest agitates biblical priestly writers. Moses’ marriage to the daughter of that priest, a woman who then performs a ritual circumcision on their son (Ex 4), is even more problematic. Moses’ first marriage to Zipporah in Exodus reminds readers of his second to a Cushite woman in Numbers 12. The Cushite woman stands in, though somewhat obliquely, for Zipporah.37 If so, Numbers 12 illustrates a deep resentment in Moses’ siblings over Zipporah’s continuing presence in the camp of the Israelites even after her father’s departure. Either way, the story in Numbers 25 offers an unmistakable critique of Moses’ marriage(s) by establishing a clear boundary against foreign (Midianite/Cushite) women in the next generation, turning them into forbidden partners. As put by Dozeman, “The Midianites encountered by Phinehas become an external threat to cultic purity – a disease that must be destroyed.”38 Phinehas’ story attempts to extinguish the threat presented by Moses’ relationships to Jethro and Zipporah in as memorable a way as possible.39 It renounces those close relations in no uncertain terms. It makes no distinctions between friendly and threatening strangers. To reinforce the point, the peace of Jethro and Moses is replaced in Numbers by a covenant of peace between God and Phinehas (Num 25:12). Phinehas dominates the passage while Moses’ role is diminished.40 Phinehas certainly has God on his side, as the end of the chapter testifies. God announces: “Assail the Midianites and strike a blow against them” (Num 25:17). The Hebrew word for “assail” also means ‘to show hostility, harass and treat with enmity.’ The same verb is used in the next verse, 25:18, to describe what the Midianites did to the Israelites. According to this verse, the Midianites, not the Moabites, induced Israel to abandon YHWH in the affair of Peor. The two verses capture the cycle of recrimination that fuels violent conflict. The same verb, “assail,” is used two other times in Numbers. An unnamed aggressor attacks Israel once the people are settled in the land (Num 10:9). The inhabitants of the land whom the Israelites fail to dispossess will “assail” them (Num 33:55). The use of the verb and its repetition throughout Numbers suggests that strangers present ongoing sexual, religious and military threats. Numbers 31 meets the military threat by depicting an Israelite battle against the Midianites. God announces to Moses that he shall “avenge” the children of Israel against the Midianites. In Numbers 31:7–8, the Israelites slay every Midianite male, including five Midianite kings. Moses announces that this is not good enough. They must also slay male Midianite children and sexually active women.41 The Israelite horror of Midianite women, which leads to their deaths, overlooks the role played by another Midianite woman, Zipporah, who had saved Moses’ life.42

40  The wilderness journey and its end I suggest that the excessive brutality, in a text considered to be priestly, originates in the pronounced concern of the Israelite priests with issues of genealogical purity. The priestly writers could not tolerate a mingling of Israelite and Midianite provided by the example of Moses taking a Midianite wife, Zipporah, his close connection to her father, and the public intimacy of Zimri and Cozbi. In the present passage, the priestly writer pointedly depicts Moses as demanding the massive slaughter. The episode reveals “Israelite fears of seduction by the Other, of the horror of exogamy, and of the cracking of those internal codes and secrets that keep Israel distinct.”43 The example does not just reverse past intimacy but creates a considerable amount of enmity between Israelite and Midianite in the future, preventing further collaboration. Indeed, violent battles between Israelites and Midianites recur in Judges 6–8, this time in the land.44 Resorting to such extreme measures both in the wilderness and later in the land suggest the extent of the threat. The Midianites, once ‘like us,’ are now decisively ‘not like us.’ Presumably a perception that the outsider is ‘like us’ leads to a positive portrayal while ‘too much like us’ leads to ambivalence. ‘We are not like them’ and they are ‘not like us’ motivate acts of separation and justify violence. Such contradictory views aimed at a single group such as the Midianites reveals that a unified biblical view of them does not exist. The movement from a valorization of Jethro to the murder of Midianite idolators exemplifies the dangerous volatility of the conflict that rages between different biblical attitudes toward strangers.

Conclusion From the perspective of the writer(s) who gives us the tale of Jethro and Moses, the early Israelite community, and Moses himself, could not have succeeded without the assistance of a stranger. Their story is a “narrative of connection . . . focused not on boundaries . . . but on the intertwined patterns of descent that muddy boundaries . . . and create shared narrative spaces.”45 Biblical counter-voices denounce such interactions and models of collaboration. Jethro’s fellow Midianites are explicitly subject to brutality and violence. Peter Machinist has argued that the “more sharply they [biblical texts] affirm the boundary, the more we can be certain that the reality was muddier and more fragile . . . the sharpness was there precisely to make sense of the reality – to affirm an “us” whose existence its members . . . felt was threatened.”46 As I shall argue in my next chapter, a number of the stories of violent conquest in Joshua illustrate textual fantasies of power resorted to by those who felt the sort of threat Machinist describes.47 Even if the destruction of the Midianites is a fantasy, such a tale may nonetheless encourage horrifyingly violent consequences in a world outside of the text. What do these different tales of Israelites and Midianites communicate about biblical understandings of strangers? From the outset there is a

Inside out: Jethro and the Midianites  41 complex series of interactions. The category of stranger and of self is fluid and shifts over time. Moses is the stranger in the initial encounter, Jethro in the later meeting at Sinai. Even a figure such as Moses, who towers over all other biblical characters in the fullness of his characterization and his relationship with YHWH, depends on an interaction with a stranger to discover the extent of his alienation from his identity as an Egyptian and who he will become as an Israelite prophet. At times, behaviors trump ethnicity while ties that would appear to bind a husband to his wife and a father to his children are fragile. Yet as the people Israel continue on their journey, a shift occurs. While an individual like Jethro, or even Moses’ relationship to Zipporah, appear to be unobjectionable, such interactions, if unchecked, lead to problems in the next generation as illustrated in the violent battle against the Midianites in Numbers. As a group they present sexual attractions that inexorably lead to religious violations. Collaboration and creativity are replaced with destruction. As we shall see, this conclusion holds in what is to come in Joshua. Why does such an analysis of biblical strangers matter? The story of Jethro and Moses offers the reader a biblical tradition that generates a creative and constructive view of strangers. Such a perspective counters the many negative uses made of strangers in other biblical passages, including the way in which fear and suspicion of strangers can be manipulated to create enemies. A problematic model is not inevitable or intrinsic. Violence does not need to be the inexorable outcome of difference. After all, the Torah, most likely a redacted text in the hands of those very priests who are so scrupulous about boundaries, contains both stories of Midianites encountered in the wilderness. As noted by Ron Hendel, “moral and philosophical issues are debated in this book, and often they are not settled. Cultural identities are constructed in one part, only to be deconstructed in another.”48 By preserving both ends of the continuum, the final redactors of the Bible leave behind a positive portrait of Jethro the Midianite that challenges the stereotyped and rage-inducing version of the Midianites. Jethro exemplifies a biblical conception of the stranger “in which the ‘other’ or the ‘them’ do not represent the contrary of ‘us’ but rather form, in a more positive sense, the ground of possibility or the complement . . . of ‘us.’ ”49 Such a reimagining of the possibilities can find no better text from which to begin than the fruitful interactions of Jethro, priest of Midian, and his son-in-law Moses. The collective encounter between Israelites and strangers continues in the book of Joshua as the children of Israel ready themselves to cross into the Promised Land without the benefit of either of them.

Notes 1 According to F. V. Greifenhagen, Egypt on the Pentateuch’s Ideological Map, JSOT Sup. 361(Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002), 6 the negative portrait of the Midianites in Numbers “is overdetermined by the values or ideology of the producers of the document.” Greifenhagen reminds us that Midianites

42  The wilderness journey and its end briefly appear in Genesis 37:36 and sell Joseph into slavery, 142. Thus a negative appraisal of the Midianites precedes Jethro’s appearance. 2 Nahum Sarna, Exodus: The JPS Torah Commentary (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1991), 100 emphasizes Jethro’s remarkable role. 3 “Preface,” Jacob Neusner and Ernest Frerichs, eds. To See Ourselves as Others See Us: Christians, Jews, ‘Others’ in Late Antiquity (Chico: Scholars Press, 1985), xiv. 4 Discussed by Claudia Camp, Wise, Strange and Holy (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000), 13, 323, 329. 5 I am not making a historical claim but a literary one, allowing “a text to tell everything it knows. . . .” James Kugel, The God of Old (New York: Simon and Schuster, 2003), 2. 6 While the result appears the same, the Hebrew verbs are not identical. In Exodus 2:15 Moses “escapes” the Pharoah while in 2:17 the shepherds “drive away” the daughters of Jethro. 7 The narrator calls the Midianite priest Reuel in Exodus 2:18, a name appearing only one more time in the Torah in the book of Numbers. Sarna proposes that the meaning of Reuel, “friend of God,” anticipates his important role in the subsequent narrative. Jethro could be an honorific as suggested by the Akkadian atru (watru), “preeminent or foremost.” See Sarna, Exodus, 12, n. 18. For further details of Jethro’s alternative names, see William H. C. Propp, Exodus 1–18, Anchor Bible v. 2 (New York: Doubleday, 1998), 172–173 and Edward Greenstein, “Jethro’s Wit: An Interpretation of Wordplay in Exodus 18,” in On the Way to Nineveh, eds. Stephen Cook and Stephen C. Winter (Atlanta, Georgia: Scholars Press, 1999), 164. T. B. Dozeman, “The Midianites in the Formation of the Book of Numbers,” in The Books of Leviticus and Numbers, ed. Thomas Römer (Leuven-Paris-Dudley, MA: Uitgeverij Peeters, 2008), 271–274 highlights the significance of Hobab, a name linked to Jethro in Numbers and in Judges. 8 Elizabeth Bloch-Smith, “Israelite Ethnicity in Iron I: Archeology Preserves What Is Remembered and What Is Forgotten in Israel’s History,” JBL 122 (2003): 401–425, concludes that dynamism characterizes ethnic identity. 9 Richard Kearney, “Guest or Enemy? Welcoming the Stranger,” June, 2012. www.abc.net.au/religion/article/2012/06/21/3529859.htm 10 Jonathan Z. Smith, Relating Religion (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2004), 275. 11 Greifenhagen, Egypt on the Pentateuch’s Ideological Map, 12, lists several markers of an ethnic boundary: “blood, bed, territory and culture . . . [concern] over endogamy and mixed marriages. . . .” A mixed marriage supersedes an ethnic boundary but then becomes an overriding matter of concern (e.g., Num 12), as suggested to me by Karina Hogan. 12 For the interpretative possibilities of the preposition in Genesis 4:1 see Ilana Pardes, Countertraditions in the Bible (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1992), 40–47. 13 On this point see Greifenhagen, Egypt on the Pentateuch’s Ideological Map, 66. 14 Merilyn Clark, “Mapping Boundaries of Belonging: Another Look at Jacob’s Story,” in Bible, Borders, Belonging(s) Engaging Readings from Oceania, eds. Jione Havea, David J. Neville and Elaine M. Wainwright (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2014), 112. 15 Camp, Wise, Strange and Holy, 273 illustrates how “a leadership structure derived from Aaron must replace Jethro’s system.” 16 Ibid., 240. For the Egyptian parallels to this enigmatic scene and Zipporah’s role in it, see Pardes, Countertraditions, 79–97.

Inside out: Jethro and the Midianites  43 17 Nyasha Junior and Jeremy Schipper, “Mosaic Disability and Identity in Exodus 4:10; 6:12, 30,” Biblical Interpretation 16 (2008): 436. 18 Jeremy Schipper made the last point in a private communication. Susan Ackerman, “Why Is Miriam Also Among the Prophets? (And Is Zipporah Among the Priests?),” JBL 121/1 (2002): 47–80 highlights the extent to which Zipporah takes her father’s ritual role by performing the circumcision. Particularly helpful is Ackerman’s reference to the work of Bernard Robinson, 74, n. 79. 19 Spatial distance or closeness refer to whether the other is located topographically at the center, the periphery or outside the group. See Smith, Relating Religion 231. 20 For this proposal and other evidence that the episode is chronologically out of order, see Jeffrey H. Tigay, “Exodus,” in The Jewish Study Bible, eds. Adele Berlin and Marc Brettler (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), 143, n. 18: 1–27. See also Sarna, Exodus, 97. 21 Propp, Exodus, 634, paraphrases Umberto Cassuto. Propp proposes a different explanation for the sequencing of Exodus 17 and 18, suggesting that the former chapter represents the establishment of a military administration and the latter a civil administration. 22 Perhaps the later condemnation of an Israelite coupling with a Midianite in Numbers originates in Exodus 18. 23 Dozeman, “The Midianites in the Formation of the Book of Numbers,” 265. 24 Propp, Exodus, 635. Moses is isolated from vertical male relationships. Father and sons are largely absent from the narrative of his life. I thank the Women’s Biblical Research Group for that observation. Significant relations to other male figures include Jethro, Aaron and his nephews. 25 On this point, see Greenstein, “Jethro’s Wit,” 166. 26 Based on Exodus 3:1 and 18:10–12, Propp, Exodus, 171. Dozeman, “The Midianites in the Formation of the Book of Numbers,” 268, makes a case for the Midianite contribution to Israelite non-priestly religion, which “resists clearly established origins to the cult of YHWH.” See also 276–277. 27 Smith, Relating Religion, 27, proposes a relational structure in which to consider the other: “four specifications of the We/They duality . . . (1) They are LIKE-US, (2) They are NOT-LIKE-US, (3) They are TOO-MUCH-LIKE-US . . . or (4) We are NOT-LIKE-THEM. . . .” These options are not mutually exclusive but may overlap or occur sequentially. 28 Proof of Jethro’s wisdom is highlighted in Greenstein, “Jethro’s Wit.” 29 For an alternative reading of Jethro’s presence in Exodus 18 see Waldemar Janzen, “Jethro in the Structure of the Book of Exodus,” in The Old Testament in the Life of God’s People, ed. Jon Isaak (Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 2009). 30 Joel Kaminsky, Yet I Loved Jacob (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2007), 109. 31 According to Kaminsky, Yet I Loved Jacob, the violent rejection of the Midianites in Numbers suggests treatment usually reserved for the ‘anti-elect.’ Israel executes God’s vengeance against them in Numbers 31:3, practicing policies of ‘sacral warfare’ that will later be implemented against the Canaanites in Joshua (as well as the Midianites in Judges 6–7). The positive portrayal of Jethro complicates the category. In the end, Kaminsky concludes that the evidence “for the anti-elect status of the Midianites is inconclusive,” 112. 32 I am grateful to Joel Kaminsky for the suggestion. For an alternative explanation of Hobab’s ambiguous role in Numbers 10 see Camp, Wise, Strange and Holy, 270–271. She suggests that Hobab’s presence functions “as a prologue to the concerns of Numbers 11–12: both to the question of knowledge and to Moses’ need for human assistance,” 271. Thus Hobab does double-duty in his sudden

44  The wilderness journey and its end appearance, reminding Moses of the importance of delegation in running the camp while also introducing a cause for resentment in the relationship between Israel and Midian. 33 Ronald Hendel, “Israel Among the Nations,” in Cultures of the Jews, ed. David Biale (New York: Schocken Books, 2002), 46. 34 Jonathan Boyarin, “The Other Within and the Other Without,” in The Other in Jewish Thought and History, eds. Laurence J. Silberstein and Robert L. Cohn (New York: New York University Press, 1994), 438. 35 Sarah Diamant, “Group Identity in the Hebrew Bible: Moab as a Case of Israelite Self-Identity,” (PhD diss., Jewish Theological Seminary, 2008), 50 examines the conflation of Moabites and Midianites in Numbers 25, concluding that the priestly writers replaced the Moabites with Midianites for the opportunity provided to reject the prominent role of the Midianite priest and official Jethro. 36 Dozeman, “The Midianites in the Formation of the Book of Numbers,” 283. For his entire argument, see esp. 282–284. Diamant, “Group Identity in the Hebrew Bible,” 52, 61, 70–71 reaches similar conclusions. In particular P/HS were threatened by “syncretism . . . the mixing of worship practice and affiliation, as perhaps exemplified by the union of Zimri and Cozbi,” 186. 37 Jacob Milgrom, Numbers: The JPS Torah Commentary (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1990), 93, n.1, summarizes the arguments for the identity of the “Cushite” woman, including the possibility that she may be Zipporah. 38 Dozeman, “The Midianites in the Formation of the Book of Numbers,” 277. 39 Camp, Wise, Strange and Holy, 215, 225, 267. 40 Diamant, “Group Identity in the Hebrew Bible,” 47. 41 Milgrom, Numbers, 255 suggests that God uses the events of Numbers 25 as justification. 42 See Dozeman, “The Midianites in the Formation of the Book of Numbers,” 279. 43 Trude Dothan and Robert L. Cohn, “The Philistine as Other: Biblical Rhetoric and Archaeological Reality,” in The Other in Jewish Thought and History, eds. Laurence J. Silberstein and Robert L. Cohn (New York: New York University Press, 1994), 63–64. 44 Pursuing two Midianite kings, the warrior Gideon commands his oldest son to slay them. He did not ‘draw his sword since he was afraid since still a youth’ (Judges 8:20). The name of that son is Yeter, one of the names used for Jethro (Ex 4:18). Is it a coincidence that another Yeter, this time an Israelite, does not draw his sword against Midianites? Judges does contain stories of decisive battles against Moabites (Judges 3) and Midianites (Judges 6–7). 45 Stephen Cornell, “That’s the Story of Our Life: Ethnicity and Narrative, Rupture and Power,” in We Are a People: Narrative and Multiplicity in the Construction of Ethnic Identity, eds. Paul R. Spickard and W. Jeffrey Burroughs (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2000), 50. 46 Peter Machinist, “Outsiders or Insiders: The Biblical View of Emergent Israel and Its Contexts,” in The Other in Jewish Thought and History, eds. Laurence J. Silberstein and Robert L. Cohn (New York: New York University Press, 1994), 51. 47 “Fantasies of power” comes from Rachel Havrelock, “The Two Maps of Israel’s Land,” JBL 126, 4 (2007): 651. 48 Hendel, “Israel Among the Nations,” 69. 49 Greifenhagen, Egypt on the Pentateuch’s Ideological Map, 270.

3 Crossing over and settling the land

At the start of the book of Joshua God loses no time in ordering Joshua to implement the plan for Israel, first enunciated by God to Moses 40 years earlier. Moses my servant is dead and now, rise, cross over this Jordan, you and all this people, to the land that I am giving to them, to the children of Israel . . . Be strong and resolute, for you shall apportion to this people the land that I swore to their fathers to give to them. Josh 1:2, 6 God speaks in the imperative, bringing a note of urgency to the command. The land must be divided among the Israelites and settled as quickly as possible lest the new generation loses heart. In so doing, the Israelites will repeatedly encounter other peoples already in that land. In fact, the book of Joshua overflows with the names of peoples. We hear of Canaanites, Hittites, Hivites, Perizzites, Girgashites, Amorites and Jebusites among others.1 The Israelites are ordered by Joshua (Josh 3:10) to dispossess those peoples, leading to inevitable and continual violent entanglements with them. The topic of strangers – how to deal with them, how not to be assimilated by them – becomes one of the book’s most pressing concerns. Other nonIsraelite peoples cannot be avoided. By the end of Joshua they are on every border, inside every town. In the course of the book Israelites learn to fight them and at times to coexist with them. Though the scale and numbers are different, the Israelite encounter with other peoples in the land is in some ways a continuation of what we saw in the last chapter. Moses must discard his Egyptian identity and eventually separate from his father-in-law, Jethro the Midianite, in order to fully become an Israelite. In Joshua this occurs again but on the level of the collective. The Israelites must leave behind their status as an enslaved people in Egypt in order to discover their common identity. They do so first on their journey through the wilderness and later in the land. What it means to be a people Israel is worked out, at least in part, through repeated interactions with the peoples that they find in the land.

46  The wilderness journey and its end In both examples, Exodus and Joshua, individual and collective, the relationships exist on a continuum. Recall, for instance, the extent to which Moses’ relationship with his father-in-law Jethro was a rich and collaborative one. In Joshua we shall also observe such fruitful alliances. On the other hand, the ongoing violence between Israelites and Canaanites in Joshua parallels the violent encounter of Moses’ people Israel and Jethro’s people, the Midianites. Such skirmishes are more intense and frequent in Joshua, providing especially fertile ground for the continuation of an analysis of Israelite encounters with strangers.2 Yet to call the inhabitants in the land ‘strangers’ creates a paradox in my analysis of Joshua. Who exactly are the strangers in this story? Are they the inhabitants of the land that the Israelites encounter, and often do battle against, when they cross the Jordan? Or are the Israelites themselves the strangers when they enter the land for the first time? As a record of the encounter of a newly minted people Israel with a Promised Land in which they have never been, and with inhabitants they do not know, the book of Joshua wrestles with this dilemma. How do the storytellers and editors of the book navigate the encounter between Israelite and stranger when it is the Israelite who should be considered strange? Frank Spina notes this facet in the book of Joshua: “the Israelites, who naturally are the ultimate insiders from the point of view of the sweeping biblical epic, are actually outside the land God promised them; and the outsiders (relative to Israel) are inside that same land.”3 Richard Kearney identifies a similar paradox in the much later American context. At the point when the Pilgrims encounter the Pequot on the shore of Massachusetts, Kearney imagines the Pilgrims asking: “Who is this stranger?” Not realizing, of course, that the native Pequot is asking exactly the same question of the arrivals from Plymouth. Strangers are almost always other to each other.4 The parallel to our narrative is striking. The present reading attempts to analyze the strategies of the writers and editors as they sort out this question of strangers and Israelites, a sorting out which motivates and fuels many of the stories in Joshua. The work opens as the Israelites strengthen the bonds that unify them as a people. Attention to their unity and its reinforcement appears to be a necessary prerequisite to their upcoming encounters with the inhabitants of the land. Once they cross over, now very much under the gaze of the inhabitants of the land, the Israelites use their encounters of the peoples of the land, including a series of battles, to shore up their collective identity.5 We are never entirely certain in Joshua, at least in its first half, whose view of things we are following and whose view will dominate. The many confrontations between Israelites and Canaanites create “two groups: a set of insiders, from whose point of view events are told, and a set of opponents,

Crossing over and settling the land  47 the Others.”6 The extent to which the writers and editors acknowledge the viewpoint of the local inhabitants as they observe the entry of the Israelites into the land is a fascinating dimension of Joshua’s version of insiders and strangers.7 From that perspective Israelites remain the strangers for quite some time. A historical lens further complicates matters. A consensus exists among scholars of the Hebrew Bible that the Israelites as a people emerged historically from the Canaanite population in the land itself. The archeologist and historian of early Israel Ann Killebrew writes: “We are dealing with a mixed population whose . . . origins lie in Canaan.”8 In light of the external record, the idea within the text that the Israelites enter the land from across the borders, not only from the wilderness, but from Egypt, functions to distinguish and separate one subgroup of local inhabitants from a heterogeneous majority culture. Stories of domination and distinction function in part to stifle and repress Israelite anxieties of similarity to the Canaanites. According to Yair Zakovitch, biblical texts set out to demonstrate that “Israel shares nothing with the nation whose land will come to be theirs. All this was designed to dissociate the Israelites from those whom they resembled most, and to argue for the uniqueness of Israelite culture.”9 A slow but steady shift in perspective takes hold over the narrator, the Israelites and perhaps even the reader, as the text urgently and successfully portrays the Israelites as settled and the local inhabitants as strangers – though never entirely. This shift in perception happens in spite of the sheer number of local peoples listed in the narrative as well as their leaders. We observe kings of Jerusalem, Hebron, Jarmuth, Lachish and Eglon as they battle the Israelites and are defeated by them (Josh 10:5). Thirty-one vanquished kings are listed (Josh 12:9–24). The seven nations – Canaanites, Hittites, Hivites, Perizzites, Girgashites, Amorites and Jebusites – hover over the narrative throughout. Such a thickness of names continually reminds the reader, as it did the Israelites, of other peoples who far outnumber the newcomers. I will pay attention, by means of a close literary reading, to how particular strangers in the midst of so many names are introduced, described and represented. In what follows, Rahab becomes a savior of Israel due to her extensive knowledge of the God of Israel. Local kings, overcome by fear and anxiety, set out to battle the Israelites only to be utterly devastated by them. Israelites outfox and humiliate the Gibeonites, masters of disguise. Taken together, these stories provide us with different types of strangers, with somewhat different motives and personalities, as they interact with the Israelites. To a certain extent we are given access to their appraisals of the Israelites. At the same time I assume that the Canaanite assessments of the Israelites as a people to be feared is a ‘wish fulfillment’ of writers whose depictions of the local inhabitants appear largely to the advantage of their Israelite audience.10 As the narrative in the book of Joshua winds down, the carefully drawn portraits of local inhabitants, easily duped or vanquished, start to crack.

48  The wilderness journey and its end The original task assigned to Joshua to conquer the land and dispossess its inhabitants falters and eventually fails. The Anakites serve as the means by which a change in attitude develops. At that point in the narrative, violent methods give way to the recognition that not all the peoples of the land can be expelled or killed. Alternatives are needed. At book’s end, rather unexpectedly, the inhabitants/strangers of the land remain in place, a pressing problem that the Israelites must resolve.11

Strangers to the land The early chapters of Joshua describe Israelite preparations on the other side of the Jordan, their entry into the land and their first encounters with its inhabitants. At each stage the Israelites take steps to strengthen their collective identity, and in so doing, become less strange to themselves even if perceived as strangers by others. Chapter 1 of Joshua reviews and reinforces two critical markers of Israelite identity established during the wilderness journey: the Torah (1:7) and an assurance of the presence of YHWH in the lives of the people (1:9). The book of Joshua shapes its own story by repeated allusions to events in Exodus, Numbers and Deuteronomy that provide a record of the past and instructions for Israel’s impending conquest in Joshua.12 A third marker of Israelite identity, an acknowledgement of a shared fate, is also central to the first chapter of Joshua. Interestingly, like Torah and God, this marker is also independent of a specific land. The Reubenites, Gadites and half-tribe of Manasseh assure Joshua that they will fight on behalf of the entire people. Only then will they return to their settlements on the other side of the Jordan (1:16, implemented in 4:12). The two-anda-half tribes convince Joshua that their fate is intertwined with that of the larger entity, the people Israel, by becoming the vanguard of the conquest. This point, established so early in Joshua, reinforces the extent to which battles consolidate a group’s identity.13 It is hardly coincidental that the book of Joshua begins with such an unmistakable emphasis on these three components of a shared identity: Torah, YHWH and group allegiance. Even more elaborate rituals of group identity follow. An immediate emphasis on identity as the first order of business indicates a certain unease on the part of the biblical writer(s) regarding the unity and durability of this recently formed people.

A first encounter: The stranger as savior As he sends two spies to scout out the land in Joshua 2:1, Joshua must be reminded of an earlier event in his life. As a young man he was one of 12 who spied out the land by order of Moses with fatal consequences as told in Numbers and retold in Deuteronomy.14 Now Joshua sends spies ahead of the invading army. As already noted, Joshua contains many such parallels,

Crossing over and settling the land  49 allusions and repetitions to passages from the life of Moses, the lives of the people in Egypt and to events in their long journey through the wilderness. Rahab’s story contains a significant number of such intertextual references with some differences as well. Two spies rather than 12 are sent. The episode is largely confined to Jericho rather than the entirety of the land. Most significantly, there is a drastically different ending. That difference announces that the Israelites have arrived at a new phase in their story. The spies arrive in Jericho and enter the house of a harlot that abuts the city walls. Her name is Rahab. The term “harlot” ‫ זונה‬invites sexual associations. As brilliantly observed by Nasili Vaka’uta, scouting the land can be mined for its sexual overtones as well. Vaka’uta writes: “Canaan, like Rahab, is portrayed as an open space, broad and readily spread to be penetrated and explored in the interests of YHWH’s chosen.”15 The term ‫“ זונה‬harlot” has a fairly negative connotation elsewhere in the Bible. Phyllis Bird describes the biblical status of a ‫זונה‬: “Her social status is that of an outcast, though not an outlaw, a tolerated, but dishonored member of society.”16 The ‫ זונה‬is repeatedly exploited by those whose interests drive them to make use of her. Perhaps among the most negative comments is found in Deuteronomy 23:19: You shall not bring the fee of a harlot or the price of a dog into the house of YHWH your God in fulfillment of any vow because both are abhorrent to YHWH your God. That a figure considered highly suspect in Deuteronomy goes on to play such a significant role in the book that immediately follows is not a coincidence. Rahab overturns the expectations of the spies and of the reader. We are caught off guard and surprised by her rich characterization. She is a shrewd and wise woman who perceives the way things are and the uniqueness of Israel’s God long before anyone else in Jericho. Through Rahab we, and the spies, are taught to delay judgments about strangers.17 Another, more pragmatic explanation exists as well. Rahab’s house, conveniently built into the wall of the town, allows for an easy entry and an equally easy escape.18 The spies settle down for the night. The earlier story in Numbers 13 omits mention of rest for the 12 spies. The added detail calls attention to itself and invites interpretation. Lying down in the house of a harlot suggests the possibility of an anticipated sexual encounter. It also suggests that the two men feel secure enough to go to sleep in a town that is potentially dangerous. They are either hapless or trust their hostess. They choose to remain sedentary in a confined space belonging to a stranger, hence vulnerable. The king of Jericho hears of their arrival, their location and their “scouting” (Joshua 2:2 using the same verb as in Deuteronomy 1:22). He demands that Rahab produce the two spies. The king emphasizes their “coming” three times in verse 3 alone in a fit of anxious repetition. Their coming is

50  The wilderness journey and its end indeed the problem. From the perspective of Jericho’s leader, not only are the Israelites strangers but an obvious threat. Jericho is the very first town within the borders that the Israelites will enter and so the first in which the drama of encounter between Israelites and local inhabitants plays out.19 The king’s reaction sets the tone at the outset for what follows in the larger narrative by providing the second of two possible reactions to the imminent arrival of the people Israel. In contrast to Rahab’s positive appraisal of the Israelites, the king is exceedingly anxious. Rahab’s view of the two Israelites is crucial not only to the unfolding of the present story but also to the successful entry of the Israelites into the land. She is sympathetic to their plight and their mission. She knows they will win and shifts her loyalties to them. First Rahab buys the spies time, diverting the king’s men onto a false trail. In this way she echoes those women at the opening of the book of Exodus, both Israelite and non-Israelite, who rescue Moses and the people Israel from destruction: the midwives, Yocheved, Miriam, the daughter of the pharoah and Zipporah.20 She also anticipates a later figure, Michal, daughter of Saul, who buys time for David so that he can escape from her father’s murderous intentions. Rahab’s strategy, like that of Michal, is in her clever use of words. She responds to the king of Jericho by declaring her ignorance of the identities of the two men, thereby protecting herself. They are generic strangers. Next she mentions a gate and an exit, suggesting a path likely taken by the spies and sending the pursuers down that same path (though the spies are hiding on Rahab’s roof). To make her point, she orders them in the imperative to pursue the spies immediately. “And the gate is about to close in the darkness and the men went out but I don’t know where they went – quick, pursue after them because you can overtake them” (Josh 2:5). As they exit and cross through the gate, the pursuers head in the wrong direction. Their pursuit of the spies at Rahab’s direction ensures the opposite of her false assurance that they can overtake them. Rather than overtaking the spies, the path takes the pursuers farther and farther from their object. Not only that, but the gate closes behind them. The soldiers’ exit from Jericho mirrors that of the spies’ entry into the town, and in so doing foreshadows the replacement of one group, the inhabitants of Jericho, with that of another, the Israelites. Insiders are out and outsiders are in. Rahab continues to rely on her gift of speech when she turns back to the spies. Her lengthy speech recapitulates victorious highlights of the Exodus, including the crossing of the Sea of Reeds thanks to YHWH (Ex 15) and the Israelite defeat of the two Amorite kings (Num 21 and Deut 31). In Joshua 2:10 Rahab highlights the fact that the kings were put under the ban (‫)חרם‬. A ban requires that a subject, either individually or collective, be utterly destroyed. Rahab’s reference to such a severe act suggests her shrewdness. She correctly anticipates that the ban ‫ חרם‬will become part of a violent military strategy to fulfill God’s plans over the course of the conquest narrative.21

Crossing over and settling the land  51 By reminding the spies of the Exodus and the journey through the wilderness, Rahab confirms the accuracy of Moses’ repeated argument to God that non-Israelites carefully track God’s treatment of the Israelites for good or for ill. Rahab reports the reaction of the people of Jericho when they hear of God’s interventions during the wilderness journey. “A dread” fell upon them, all of whom are now “melting away” (Josh 2:9). These phrases provide a very good definition of deterrence. They also echo the Song at the Sea in Exodus when God proclaims: “All the dwellers of Canaan are melting away; a great dread and fear fall upon them” (Ex 15:15b–16:a). In Deuteronomy God announces that such dread has begun. The peoples of the earth “hear” of the Israelites and fear them (Deut 2:25). Rahab informs the spies that she knows that God will give the land to the Israelites (Josh 2:9a). Her certainty echoes Moses’ declaration to the people in Deuteronomy 31: YHWH your God, He it is who crosses over before you. He shall destroy these nations before you and you shall dispossess them. Joshua, he it is who is to cross over before you as YHWH has spoken. And YHWH will do to them as He did to Sihon and to Og, the kings of Amorites. . . . Deut 31:3–4a In fact, Rahab, a non-Israelite harlot, is the first character after the death of Moses to fully understand and articulate what God has done, and will do, for Israel. She exemplifies the precise response sought by God all along. The peoples of the world will know of the God of Israel. Rahab declares that “YHWH, your God, is God in the heavens above and the earth below” (Josh 2:11b).22 Rahab prefaces her recounting of the Israelite past with “for we have heard,” in an echo of Jethro’s “hearing” what God has done for Israel.23 The parallel confirms that God’s actions succeed in influencing how different strangers act toward the Israelites. Divine acts triggered Jethro the Midianite’s reunion with his son-in-law as advisor and mentor and now initiate Rahab’s saving actions on behalf of the spies.24 But more than knowledge of God by other peoples is at stake. Rahab’s proclamation aims to reinforce, or even inspire, Israelite fidelity to God. Rahab extracts a promise from the spies that they will protect her family upon their successful return to Jericho as conquerors. She bases her claim on the fact that she has shown “loyalty” or ‫ חסד‬to the spies, a highly significant word in biblical narrative, repeatedly used to signify Israelite loyalty to God and God’s to Israel. It is striking to see the term used by Rahab.25 In response to her strongly worded entreaty, the spies instruct her to tie a crimson cord to the window to remind the Israelites not to harm those inside. A crimson mark in the window echoes the story of the Passover in Exodus as the angel of death passes over the houses of Israelites marked with blood. Now a non-Israelite family will be protected, not by God, but by the Israelites themselves. Such a mark tangibly distinguishes strangers who are allies and

52  The wilderness journey and its end deserving of protection from those targeted for battle. Saved by Rahab, the spies will return the favor. One detail in the story calls for a brief digression. The crimson color of the cord has quite a significant role in priestly materials found in Exodus, Leviticus and Numbers. In Exodus crimson yarn figures prominently in the materials for the desert tabernacle. It is also used in the vestments of the priests. In Leviticus crimson thread is a crucial substance in priestly rituals of purification of a person or a house made impure by skin disease. Numbers refers to crimson in the covering of the Tabernacle vessels and also as part of a purifying substance in the ritual of the red heifer. In other words, crimson is considered efficacious, connected to the holiest materials in the Israelite priestly system. The spies’ choice of the color as the sign of protection for Rahab’s family could hardly be coincidental. The same color that represents God’s dwelling, God’s priests and the sacred power to purify, is now associated with protecting Rahab, the stranger who provides crucial assistance to the people Israel. The association of a priestly figure with that of Rahab suggests that she, like the priest, is an agent of God. Rahab’s status and her role at the very beginning of the book of Joshua constitute a subtle argument that challenges assumptions of Israelites and readers alike. Typically, a non-Israelite woman is seen in biblical texts as a source of temptation and transgression and how much more so a harlot. Yet Rahab’s actions and her speech refute a typical reading. Not only is a nonIsraelite woman innocent of such a threat, but she is necessary to the very survival of the people Israel.26 At story’s end Rahab helps the scouts escape through her window to the other side of the wall in order to galvanize the troops for the conquest to follow. Note the extent to which gates, windows and walls are mentioned in the story. In fact they form its backdrop, signifying the ‘threshold.’ Entrances and exits represent transitional moments as the Israelites ready themselves to cross over as a people outside the land to one inside. Interestingly enough, it is not only Rahab’s home or its physical location (in the wall of the city) that functions as a threshold between Jericho and the surrounding areas. Rahab herself is a threshold figure, marginal to the community in which she lives due to her status as a prostitute and not yet, perhaps never to be, fully integrated into the people Israel.27 As the scouts report back to Joshua they can do no better than repeat Rahab’s words: “all the inhabitants of the land are melting away before us” (Josh 2:24). Their statement is noteworthy because it relies so heavily not on their own reconnaissance but on Rahab’s testimony.28 As noted by GillmayrBucher, “The most important information they could get hold of is Rahab’s analysis of the current situation.”29 The first encounter between the Israelites and a stranger in the book of Joshua is one highly favorable to a harlot who becomes nothing less than a savior of the people Israel. Most remarkably, Rahab, not the Israelites, sets in motion the implementation of God’s plans for the people Israel in

Crossing over and settling the land  53 the Promised Land. This story clearly works to Israel’s advantage but at the same time sets up and illustrates the concept of reciprocity. Rahab and her family are protected in turn. On the other hand, a more troubling dimension of the parallels in Rahab’s story to that of Jethro exists in its aftermath. Both individuals are not only protected but also honored. But the communal group to which they belong (Midianites in Numbers 31 and the inhabitants of Jericho in Joshua 6) is treated with outright hostility and violently attacked. Before the Israelites launch their attack on the inhabitants of Jericho, however, they must first cross over the Jordan River. They do so under the intense gaze of the inhabitants of the land.

Crossing over The journey across the Jordan involves a highly choreographed series of steps that reinforce and shore up the identity that the people of Israel have established for themselves by Torah’s end. Key events from that record referred to in Joshua include the crossing of the Reed Sea, the revelation at Sinai, the reception of the covenant and its laws and the establishment of a priestly system of leadership. In Joshua chapters 3 through 5, first at the edge of the land and then after they cross over, the people follow the Ark of the Covenant carried by the priests. They purify themselves in preparation for God’s wonders (in language similar to that at Sinai) and God’s words. They are now, finally, ready to implement God’s wishes to conquer the land. Crossing the Jordan marks the moment in which promise becomes reality. “It is the boundary between the precariousness of the wilderness and the confidence of at-home-ness.”30 Joshua, rather than God, first introduces the topic of strangers. He turns to the people Israel to declare: “By this you shall know that a Living God is among you, and that He will surely dispossess in front of you the Canaanites, Hittites, Hivites, Perizzites, Girgashites, Amorites and Jebusites” (Josh 3:10). Joshua baldly asserts God’s role in the dispossession of the inhabitants of the land. In so doing, he prepares the people for a sustained and violent encounter with the local inhabitants. Ensuing actions include mustering the troops, crossing the River Jordan and commemorating the crossing by setting up 12 stones in an echo of the primary narrative of the people since leaving Egypt.31 Partial phrases from Exodus reappear in the description of the people’s arrival at Gilgal: “when your children ask their fathers tomorrow, saying, what are these stones?” (Josh 4:21) echoes “when your children say to you what is this worship . . .” (Ex 12:26). Drawing from the highpoints of the past sanctifies the present moment. A shared history binds the Israelites firmly together and distinguishes them from the Canaanites while readying them for the future. God provides an etiology for Gilgal based on its verbal form: “Today I have rolled away the disgrace of Egypt from upon you” (Josh 5:9). A new moment has arrived.

54  The wilderness journey and its end That moment unfolds under the watchful eyes of the kings of the land. “All the kings” of the Canaanites and Amorites heard that God dried the river on behalf of the Israelites. They “lost heart and there was no spirit left in them because of the children of Israel” (Josh 5:1). The kings’ response is identical to Rahab’s description (Josh 2:10–11), linking these two stories. But there is a slight variation in the two accounts. Rahab hears that God dried the Sea of Reeds. These kings hear that God has dried the Jordan River shortly after it occurs. The difference is significant, confirming that the strangers hear of God’s frightening acts not in a distant past but in their present. The response of the kings echoes that of the king of Jericho in Rahab’s story. He too perceives the Israelites with suspicion and trepidation. Taken together, the kings’ reactions illustrate the extent to which the Israelites’ reputation precedes them and influences subsequent responses to them. Everything the kings have heard so far of the Israelites confirm that they are a serious threat. The reference to the Canaanites and Amorites in Joshua 5:1 interrupts the choreography of Israelite nation building much as Joshua’s reference to the Canaanites, Hittites, Hivites, Perizzites, Girgashites, Amorites and Jebusites did in 3:10. Both interruptions are purposeful. The building of a national identity is strengthened, and the borders of the group buttressed, by reminding the children of Israel of the strangers who are watching them. An Israelite audience may find relief and gather confidence from the kings’ fear. The references to the inhabitants of the land also shift our attention, however briefly, to their perceptions of the Israelites as conquerors. Immediately after the Canaanite and Amorite kings lose heart in Joshua 5:1, God orders Joshua to circumcise the Israelites of the new generation, those born in the wilderness after leaving Egypt, as a sign of the covenant. Circumcision is yet another marker (literally) of Israelite identity. The order of events is again purposeful. At the same time as the Canaanite and Amorite kings begin to understand that a possible shift in power relations is at hand, the collective circumcision reinforces the Israelites’ sense of unity, of might and the presence of God in their lives. Such a realization motivates them to battle the local kings, ensuring the feared shift in power. The celebration of Passover, another Israelite communal ritual, follows. The celebration commemorates the original events as retold in the book of Joshua. The Passover instructions in Exodus 13 include some of the peoples mentioned in Joshua – Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Hivites and Jebusites – who now replace the Egyptians as potential enemies in this new phase of Israelite life. The early chapters have resolved the ‘strangeness’ of the Israelites. Before entering the land, the people strengthen their collective identity. Only after becoming less strange to themselves do they successfully challenge the inhabitants of the land. The narrative depicts that process by describing the development of a national consciousness through a series of sacred and successful

Crossing over and settling the land  55 strategies. God is evoked through God’s speech and the Ark. Purification and priests are valued, circumcision and celebration of festivals relied upon. The past is ever present in the many details of crossing over while provisions are made for its continued commemoration in the future. At the same time, the text intertwines the stories of Israelite practices of identity with their encounter of the inhabitants of the land. Just as the Israelites come to know themselves, so too do the inhabitants of the land learn of these strangers. Rahab illustrates her extensive favorable knowledge of the Israelites while the kings of Jericho, the Amorites and the Canaanites express their dread and suspicion of them.

Outfoxing and humiliating the stranger Now in the land, the Israelites battle the inhabitants of Jericho and of Ai. Susan Niditch highlights the ritual quality of Jericho’s battle: the seven priests carrying seven ram’s horns before the ark; the blowing of trumpets; the marching in magic circles around the city on six days, with a seven-time circling on the holy and whole seventh day; the fact that Joshua meets the commander of the Lord’s army before the battle to be held on ‘holy ground.’ Josh 5:13–1532 As Jericho falls, the narrator announces that the city and everything in it is now under the ban ‫ חרם‬except for Rahab and her family. The ban is mentioned six times in five verses (Josh 6:17–21), signaling that the successful outcome of the battle results in its implementation. A warning accompanies the injunction, reinforcing and demanding that the Israelites pay careful attention to the ban or face the consequences. The term appears five times just in Joshua 6:17–18: And the city is under the ban, it and everything in it is for YHWH, only Rahab the harlot shall live, she and all who are with her in her house since she hid the messengers that we sent. Only beware of the ban, lest you are banned: if you take from the ban and put the camp of Israel under the ban and bring calamity upon it. One more tale must be told, that of Achan and the role he plays in the battle against Ai, before elaborating on the ban’s role in these stories. The battle of Ai in Joshua 7 follows that of Jericho. It does not go precisely as planned. Three thousand Israelites flee from the men of Ai, who kill 36 of them. Joshua dramatically responds to the defeat. He rents his clothes in a gesture of mourning, throws himself on the ground with the elders, and, covered with earth, cries out to God. Joshua mirrors the anguish of the local kings who have anxiously watched the Israelites enter the land.

56  The wilderness journey and its end Joshua reproaches God for handing the Israelites over to the enemy, declaring: “When the Canaanites and all the inhabitants of the land hear, they will turn on us and cut out our names from the land and what shall you do for your Great Name?” (Josh 7:9). In an echo of Moses’ argument to God in the wilderness, Joshua reminds God that if God turns away, the Israelites will be destroyed and the peoples of the world will conclude that Israel’s God is weak.33 Joshua’s emphasis on ‘hearing’ news about the Israelites, added to the comments of Rahab and the local kings, suggests a prolonged investigation of the Israelites by the local inhabitants. The observations of others within the story takes us outside of exclusive identification with Israelite concerns and focuses our attention briefly on the consequences of Israelite actions on the Canaanites. Joshua’s worried outburst also reminds us of his primary task: the building of an Israelite collective identity in a land he has not yet secured. Joshua’s brooding over the possibility of defeat reflects the fragility of the enterprise. The survival of the Israelites remains an open question in spite of God’s promises. Strangers may literally wipe them out. God informs Joshua that one of the Israelites has violated the ban. Achan, son of Carmi, confesses that he has sinned. Seeing among the spoil “a fine Shinar mantle, two hundred shekels of silver, and a wedge of gold weighing fifty shekels . . . I coveted them and I took them” (Josh 7:21).34 In consequence, Achan and his entire family are destroyed. The harshness of the sentence against the culprit and his family reflects the very real threat perceived in these stories not from greater Canaanite military strength but from the temptations of their presence. The ban, which appears six times in chapter six and eight times in chapter 7, functions as a deterrent against such temptations. Achan’s story provides another sinister dimension to the conquest. The threat emerges not from outsiders but from within. Achan’s mistake comes from his desire for Canaanite riches. His fate warns the Israelites against “insiders who pose a threat to the hierarchy being asserted. The message is that the punishment of Otherness is death and that insiders can easily become outsiders (Others) by failure to submit.”35 Achan’s story exposes the permeability of boundaries and the weakness of distinctions between Israelites and strangers. On the other hand, too harsh an attempt to separate Israelites and strangers by means of Achan’s fate appears to unsettle the narrative. YHWH subsequently modifies the rules. In the future the Israelites may partake of some of their enemies’ spoil (Josh 8:2, 27). Note that Rahab, a non-Israelite, is protected against the ban, but an Israelite, Achan, is subject to its consequences.36 The pairing of these two stories contributes to the development of a legal discourse that explores those who might fall under the ban and those who might be excluded regardless of ethnic affiliation. Even so, the ban is primarily implemented against the local inhabitants, representing a vision of conquest that involves a comprehensive

Crossing over and settling the land  57 destruction of other peoples in the land. As summarized by Gordon Mitchell, “The primary use of the herem in Joshua concerns the complete destruction of pre-Israelite occupants of the land.”37 Once Achan is dealt with, the Israelites successfully conquer Ai. Two reasons are given for their success. God is now willing to deliver Ai into Israelite hands. Secondly, the inhabitants of Ai are easily outfoxed. Joshua borrows a page from Rahab’s strategy in Joshua 2:7 of a false pursuit. He deploys an Israelite division as a decoy to draw the inhabitants of Ai from their city, leaving the city abandoned and unprotected. The men of Ai looked back and saw and look, smoke was rising from the city to the sky; there was no room for flight here or there and the people fleeing to the wilderness [the Israelites] turned into the pursuers. Josh 8:20 The episode allays Joshua’s anxiety. The Israelites are gaining ground in their conquest of the land. They have become the pursuers. The account ends with the destruction of the entire population of Ai. Its king is publicly impaled and then left unburied. The tone of excessive brutality and public humiliation makes the story a difficult one for a modern reader but the decisive defeat of the inhabitants of Ai greatly encourages the Israelites. The tale reinforces an Israelite belief that Canaanites can be outfoxed and beaten. Victory in battle provides another motive for the Israelites to accept God’s covenant in the collective ceremony that follows. The people offer sacrifices to God on an altar built at Mt. Ebal according to Moses’ Torah. Joshua then writes a new copy of the Torah. These acts confirm the people’s commitment to YHWH, to Joshua and to the Torah.38 At that moment the writer resolves the question of Israelite strangeness. They have become “citizens” (Joshua 8:33). At the same time, the narrator explicitly announces the inclusion of outsiders in the crowd. The stranger (ger ‫ )גר‬is mentioned twice, first in 8:33a “And all Israel and its elders and officials and judges stood on either side of the Ark across from the Priests and the Levites, those who carried the ark, the covenant of God, stranger and citizen alike. . . .” Joshua then reads the entire Torah. Joshua 8:35 describes the group that hears him do so, again referring to the outsider: “all of the assembly of Israel and the women, the children and the stranger who walks in their midst.” The ger is integral to two fundamental aspects of Israelite collectivity and covenant: the Torah and sacrificial worship. The presence of the ger in a covenantal ceremony immediately after the wholesale violence just completed against the inhabitants of Ai suggests hesitancy on the part of the editor of Joshua. Why else would these two episodes be placed side by side? The respectful treatment of the ger in biblical legal stipulations and narratives, along with their place in the Israelite collective, presents a striking alternative to the brutal treatment of other

58  The wilderness journey and its end peoples, made more so by its juxtaposition to the violent approach against the inhabitants of Ai. The tales to come continue to explore alternatives between violence and coexistence. After hearing about Israelite victories in battle, the kings of the Hittites, Amorites, Canaanites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites join forces and plan a fierce counter attack (Josh 9:1–2). In that case, ‘hearing’ leads not to deterrence but to its opposite. We will return to this point.

Gibeonite tricks In the meantime, another local group, the Gibeonites, ‘hear’ of Joshua’s actions against the inhabitants of Jericho and of Ai. The news leads them to take an alternative path to that of battle: deception and disguise. In so doing they unintentionally show themselves to be similar to the inhabitants of Ai as victims of Israelite humiliation. At first this does not appear to be the case. When they design an elaborate ruse to fool the Israelites the Gibeonites are described as “cunning.” Before seeking Joshua out, they dress in worn-out clothes and sandals, carry crumbled and dry bread, and throw worn-out sacks and water skins on their donkeys. Each aspect of their disguise is meant to suggest a harmless and vulnerable group who traveled great distances to speak with Joshua. Therefore everything they own is worn out. As Tikvah Frymer-Kensky reminds us, in such a guise the Gibeonites can only be seen by the readers of the tale as the opposite of the Israelites since in Deuteronomy God prevents the clothes and shoes of the Israelites from wearing out (Deut 29:4).39 Perhaps the Israelites are predisposed to favor the Gibeonites because the contrast between them elevates the Israelites. It is interesting that in a narrative focused on the building of identities and the creation of distinctions between peoples, the Gibeonites choose another way. They hide their true identities in order to survive. The Gibeonites present themselves as strangers from “a very distant country” (Josh 9:9). Yet the Israelites are the ones who have arrived from far away while the Gibeonites are local. The very strangeness of the Israelites is co-opted by the Gibeonites as a guise that holds every reason of success. The Gibeonites gamble that the Israelites will treat strangers from far away, who offer no direct threat, quite differently than those nearby who inhabit the land. In fact, Deuteronomy 20 stipulates that towns at a distance are to be treated more leniently than those in the Promised Land. Almost in a caricature of Rahab, the Gibeonites report what they have heard of God: “for we heard the report of HIM: of all that He did in Egypt, and of all that He did to the two Amorite kings on the other side of the Jordan, to Sihon, King of Heshbon and to Og, King of Bashan in Ashtaroth” (Josh 9:9b–10). ‘Hearing’ is a trope used both for good and for parody. In the mouths of the ‘cunning’ Gibeonites, whose actions have been explicitly described as trickery, the echo of Rahab’s words sound like a farcical mimicking of her motives.

Crossing over and settling the land  59 But the Gibeonites become objects of derision as well. Their speech suggests the extent of their effort to fool the Israelites. As we shall see, their disguise and their tale are rather easily found out, exposing the strategy’s flimsiness.40 Initially the Israelites appear to have been ‘taken in’ by the Gibeonites much as they were initially taken in by the assumed vulnerability of the inhabitants of Ai (Josh 7:3). Joshua establishes peaceful relations with the Gibeonites and a treaty to spare their lives. The Israelite chiefs signal their agreement by oath. A mere three days later the Israelites hear that the Gibeonites did not come from far away after all but were “close to them and in their midst they lived” (Josh 9:16). Exposing the Gibeonites illustrates the fragility of false identities and the ease of discovery. Timothy Beal’s description of the book of Esther and its motif of hiding provides an apt parallel to the Gibeonite ruse. Both texts seem “preoccupied with the possibilities of veiling, misrepresenting, masking and closeting otherness.”41 The disguised identity of the Gibeonites also parallels Rahab’s denial of the spies’ true identity to Jericho’s king while simultaneously hiding them. All three stories – that of Esther, the spies and now the Gibeonites – occur in moments of transition fraught with danger and anxiety. Beal helps us understand that such hiding, whether of Israelite or of Gibeonite, is an integral aspect of identity politics. Each group relies on a certain amount of deception, masking whom they are in order to survive in a transitional period. Taking on and shedding identities as the Gibeonites are attempting is obviously a strategy of survival, but the encounter is presented in a rather bemused and light-hearted fashion, poking fun not only at the Gibeonites but at the Israelites who are duped. Catching the Gibeonites in their disguise puts the Israelites in a bind. Treaties constrain natural inclinations toward violence even if one of the parties acts deceitfully. The treaty just established with them restricts the Israelite response to their tricks. The lives of the Gibeonites must be spared. Such a result makes sense. The Gibeonites did not attack the Israelites, only deceived them. The Israelites can, and do, punish the Gibeonites for fooling them. They humiliate and demean them, turning the Gibeonites into servants, hewers of wood and drawers of water, apparently necessary but lowly roles within the Israelite community (this too was anticipated in Deuteronomy 29:10). Joshua angrily summons the Gibeonites: “Why have you deceived us, saying we are a great distance from you but really you live in our midst? And now cursed are you, and you shall not cease to be servants and hewers of wood and drawers of water for the House of my God” (Josh 9:22–23). He pointedly calls God ‘mine’ to draw a distinction between them. The question of distance and closeness also recurs throughout this tale, suggesting that one of the crucial factors in the Israelite perception and treatment of strangers has to do with the extent that they seem to threaten the Israelite enterprise. The Gibeonites immediately backtrack, repeating their earlier acquaintance with the history of the Israelites, but now adding a crucial confession

60  The wilderness journey and its end in a more urgent tone: “You see, your servants have been told that YHWH your God has commanded His servant Moses to give to you the whole land and to destroy all the inhabitants of the land on your behalf . . .” (Josh 9:24). Unmasked, the Gibeonites offer their fear of the people Israel as the justification for hiding their identity as members of the targeted groups in the land. The moral of this tale suggests that strangers who resort to trickery and cunning will not succeed against the Israelites who manage to find out the truth. Yet in the end, things are never quite so straightforward. The Israelite population faults its own leaders for being duped into establishing a binding treaty with the Gibeonites (Josh 9:18). An unsatisfactory stand off apparently concludes the story. However, in spite of the criticism directed toward the Israelite leaders, the next episode illustrates the efficacy inherent in establishing treaties with the people Israel. At the instigation of King Adoni-zedek of Jerusalem (Josh 10:1–5), five Amorite kings of Jerusalem, Hebron, Jarmuth, Lachish and Eglon attack the Gibeonites because of their treaty with the Israelites. The Israelites successfully defend their Gibeonite allies. Gibeonites challenge an assumed biblical binary of strangers as either enemies or allies. Sometimes they may be both. Not only do the Israelites battle the local kings on behalf of the Gibeonites, but God joins in, slinging great stones upon the enemies from the sky. The narrator emphasizes that more died from the stones than from the Israelite swords. In the end the Israelites keep their word to the Gibeonites just as they had earlier with Rahab. Mutual benefit motivates the first treaty, deception and disguise allow for the second. Both offer an alternative to violence.42

Five Amorite kings and their fate In spite of the powerful coalition created by King Adoni-zedek of Jerusalem with the other Amorite kings, they fail to stop the Israelites. The ferocious way in which the story ends reinforces the effectiveness of deterrence. After being attacked by God, the five Amorite kings manage to escape the rocks falling upon them from the sky and take refuge in a cave at Makkedah. Once Joshua discovers their location, he orders the cave’s entry to be covered by yet another stone. One way or another stones will be the means of the kings’ undoing. By holing themselves up in a cave, thereby easily captured, the kings appear foolish. After defeating the Amorite troops, Joshua turns back to the captive Amorite kings and has them released from the cave. He orders the Israelite chiefs of the army to step upon the necks of the five kings in a dramatic act of domination and subservience.43 Humiliation is followed by a public display of death. The five kings die impaled on stakes. They are then buried in the very cave in which they had hoped to find sanctuary. Their territories are captured, their peoples destroyed.

Crossing over and settling the land  61 In contrast to the Gibeonites, the Amorite kings have no claim to mercy. The message is quite clear: Joshua 10 makes it apparent that there are no survivors. The way in which the various stories are connected portrays the destruction of a remnant in a vivid manner: the enemy is slaughtered in a major battle and while fleeing there is a further slaughter; the five kings hide only to be found and slaughtered; and finally, the cities to which any of the survivors could have fled are thoroughly destroyed, without a remnant remaining.44 Their fate reinforces a deterrence they chose to ignore. As the narrative makes clear, it is God who sees to their public humiliation.45 Three reactions of the local inhabitants to the Israelite entry into the land have been illustrated thus far, including: support of, and alliance with, the Israelites (Rahab); a cunning deceit that fails and leads to humiliating subservience (the Gibeonites); and violent attacks against the Israelites that also fail. The Israelites exploit the gullibility of the local peoples, those of Ai and the Gibeonites, who are easily duped and outfoxed. Their kings are also defeated. The Israelites show no compunction in treating them in humiliating fashion, either through subjugation in status (woodcutters and hewers of water) or in wreaking upon them a public and horrifying death. Distance and closeness appear to be important variables in these tales as well. The treatment of the Gibeonites as strangers from far away suggests that treaties can be forged with those at a safe distance. For those nearby, war is the inevitable response. Joshua presents clear choices between subservience and death. Rahab is the only exception so far. Yet, in spite of the reputation of the Israelites that precedes their arrival, and ongoing violence once they cross over, the kings of the land are not deterred. On the contrary, the Israelite reputation backfires, engendering such fear and panic that the local kings instigate massive attacks against the Israelites, who retaliate in turn.

Violence throughout the land A cycle of violence gathers speed in subsequent chapters. In the opening verses of chapter 11, King Jabin of Hazor hears of the Israelite victories. He too instigates a mighty coalition against the Israelites. Knowledge of God’s past actions again fails to deter violence and again, the kings of the Canaanites, the Amorites, the Hittites, Perizzites, Jebusites and the Hivites are decisively defeated. Their defeat provides a moment of great theatre. They take the field: “with all their armies, a great people like the sands on the shores of the sea in number, and horses and chariots very great” (Josh 11:4).46 But even the greatest of earthly forces will not withstand God’s power. They are crushed and captured. The inhabitants of Hazor are put to the sword. This time God robs them of the chance to surrender and survive.

62  The wilderness journey and its end “For from YHWH it was that their hearts were stiffened to encounter Israel in war in order that they might be proscribed without favor in order to be destroyed . . .” (Josh 11:20). At least 31 kings are defeated. The graphics of Joshua 12 make the point as the list of the defeated kings is laid out in prominent display. Numerous territories are taken and many cities destroyed. It seems that the victory of the Israelites against the strangers of the land is overwhelming and complete. As suggested by Kearney, “the price to be paid for the construction of the happy tribe is often the ostracizing of some outsider: the immolation of the ‘other’ on the altar of the ‘alien.’ ”47 The Israelites show themselves to be ruthless and thorough, even if the violent annals of battle in Joshua borrow from similar chronicles of the surrounding peoples. The battles “elevate Israel’s status by linking it with the great powers of the ancient world; Israel too is a mighty nation with an impressive catalogue of victories.”48 A brief phrase announces the cessation of battle “and the land had quiet from war” (Josh 11:23). The phrase suggests sites of countless battles, corpses and blood-soaked ground desperately in need of a respite. The phrase is repeated again in Joshua 14:15, this time almost as a plea. In spite of, or perhaps because of, such meticulous detail and its very comprehensiveness, these narratives of staggering victories do not ring true. Rhetorical flourishes suggest the extent of their hyperbole. For instance, the narrator announces that Joshua has conquered great swaths of territory at one moment, “in a single stroke” (Josh 10:42). Great multitudes of the enemy are defeated. “None remained” (Josh 11:8). Such assertions function polemically to convince a later audience of the glorious period of Israel’s conquest and its enormous power when supported by YHWH as a Warrior God.49 But cracks appear amidst the polemics. At least one exaggeration of utter destruction is countered immediately. Joshua conquers “all those royal cities” (Josh 11:12) and puts their inhabitants to the sword. The next verse immediately provides a modification: “Only all those cities still standing on their mounds Israel did not burn excerpt for Hazor alone that Joshua burned” (Josh 11:13). More subtly, a weary note is struck among the record of victories. The image of the land desperate for a respite from battle (Josh 11:23 and 14:15) frames a chapter in which God announces to Joshua: “You have grown old and advanced in years but a great deal of the land still remains to be taken possession of” (Josh 13:1). We learn of the enormous number of territories, cities and kings left to conquer and kill: This is the land that remains: all the districts of the Philistines and all [those of] the Geshurites . . . those of the five lords of the Philistines – the Gazites, the Ashdodites, the Ashkelonites, the Gittites, and the Ekronites– and those of the Avvim on the south; further, all the Canaanite country from Mearah of the Sidonians to Aphek at the Amorite border. Josh 13:2–4

Crossing over and settling the land  63 In other words, the Israelite conquest of the land holds no promise of an early end. Battles threaten to dominate not only the life of Joshua but that of the next generation. God’s declaration makes clear that the comprehensive success announced earlier turns out to be incomplete. There are partial victories and even failures. After God points out what is left to accomplish, the narrator next refers to the settlements of the Reubenites, Gadites and the half-tribe of Manasseh. Not every inch of land on the other side of the Jordan can be given to these tribes since “the Israelites failed to dispossess the Geshurites and the Maacathites, and Geshur and Maacath remain among Israel to this day” (Josh 13:13). The note of partial failure spreads even within the borders of the Promised Land as the other Israelite tribes settle throughout its territories. Two major areas of the land, those of Judah and of Joseph, are specifically singled out because of the locals who remain in them. After a long description of the conquest of the territory that becomes Judah, the narrator announces in Josh 15:63: “But of the Jebusites who live in Jerusalem the children of Judah could not dispossess them and the Jebusites live with the children of Judah in Jerusalem until this day.” This is also true of the tribe of Ephraim in the territory of Joseph. “And they did not dispossess the Canaanites who settled in Gezer; and the Canaanites live in the midst of Ephraim until this day” (Josh 16:10). The tribe of Manasseh suffers the same failure: “And the children of Manasseh could not dispossess the cities and the Canaanites were determined to live in this land” (Josh 17:12). Notices of failure are not meaningless interjections at the end of a chapter. They insert an alternative, more realistic perspective into the dominant chronicle of victory and brutal treatment of strangers. The fantasies of power and jubilant victories against easily defeated strangers confront the realities of life as lived in a land shared with others. That reality is again explicitly introduced in chapter 23. The phrase “the remnant of the nations” is repeated three times (Josh 23:4, 7, 12). However subtle, these asides acknowledge that war cannot be a permanent way of life nor can it ultimately solve the problem of the Israelites who reside in a land that contains other peoples. An alternative to war and violence must be found. Strangers are not always compliant and helpful, as in Rahab’s case, nor are they so easily outfoxed and defeated, as in the stories of Ai and Gibeon and the endless details of battle after battle. Strangers endure. The persistence of the Anakites, a people known for their size and strength, is a fine example. These strangers provide a counter-narrative to the stories of easily duped and vanquished inhabitants of the land.

The stranger as strong man: Who can stand up against the sons of Anak? The Anakites are first mentioned in the book of Joshua in a chapter in which Joshua has managed to “take all this land, the hills and all the Negev, and

64  The wilderness journey and its end all the land of Goshen and the lowlands and the desert and the hills and coastal plain . . . even to Mt. Hermon” (Josh 11:16–17a). The list covers the Promised Land almost in its entirety from south to north. The narrator acknowledges for the first time that the war and conquest have taken a long time (Josh 11:18). According to Joshua 11:21 Joshua has also wiped out the Anakites. He destroys their settlements in the hill country from Hebron, Debir and Anab, from the hills of Judah to those of Israel. The statement is quite thorough: “No Anakites remained in the land of the Children of Israel. Only in Gaza, Gath and Ashdod did they remain” (Josh 11:22). In other words, Joshua’s victory sounds comprehensive, especially since it follows the record of his vast successes in taking many other territories. And yet, the second phrase sounds an alarm. The Anakites remain alive and quite nearby, surviving in cities associated with the Philistines, the enemies of the Israelites, for some time to come.50 In fact, the Anakites are mentioned again in Joshua 14, but not in the location we would have expected to find them according to the statement of Joshua 11:22, namely in Philistine territory. According to Caleb in Joshua 14:12 they are still in the hill country. He must fight them as he promised God many years earlier while he and Joshua were still in the wilderness: “for you heard in that day that the Anakites were there and great fortified cities. Perhaps God will be with me and I shall dispossess them as God said.” Hasn’t Joshua already done that? According to Joshua 11:21–22 it is Joshua who has dispossessed the Anakites. Now and again in Joshua 15:13–14 it is Caleb who must try to dislodge the three children of Anak from Hebron: Sheshai, Aiman and Talmai. How do the Anakites reappear in a place in which Joshua gets rid of them?51 The contradictory references to them suggest that an alternative tradition has been preserved in Joshua 14–15. In these chapters Caleb plays the crucial role.52 The episode also functions literarily to confirm the continued presence of the Anakites in the land and in so doing reveals an anxiety surrounding a people whose memory is so powerful that it endures through the 40 years of wandering in the wilderness, the many years of war in the land and Joshua’s best attempt against them. The Anakites are associated with a particular place, Hebron, formerly called Kiriath-arba. A great man among the Anakites resided there. The reference appears three times, in Joshua 14:15, 15:13 and 21:11. The abundance of details and number of reports suggest a sustained fascination with the Anakites. Especially striking is the fact that they cannot be destroyed. Either they persist in Philistine territory, or worse, resurface in the hill country of Judah even though Joshua supposedly rids the land of them. Perhaps the Israelites are not as invincible as they appear. Strangers such as the Anakites might yet prove too strong for them. The persistent presence of the Anakites in Joshua creates an opportunity for projection.53 The Israelites project onto the Anakites the power and permanence that

Crossing over and settling the land  65 they themselves lack. Anakites stand in for all those enemies who cannot be violently extinguished. The symbolic function of the Anakites emerges from an interesting prehistory found in the Torah precisely where Caleb places them: in the unfortunate episode of the spies in the book of Numbers. Moses sends 12 men, including Joshua and Caleb, to scout out the Promised Land in Numbers 13 in preparation for its conquest. “They went up into the Negev and came to Hebron, and there [were] Ahiman, Sheshai, and Talmai, the children of Anak” (Num 13:22). These are the very three that Caleb faces so many years later in Joshua 15:14. Numbers offers a description of the Anakites embedded in a broader statement of what the spies find in the land: “The people who dwell in the land are powerful, and the cities are fortified and very large; and also children of the Anakites we saw there” (Num 13:28). The verse begins with a general description of a powerful people and fortified cities but singles out the Anakites as an illustration of the threat. The reference to the Anakites provides sufficient data for the argument opposing an attempted conquest. The Israelites should not dare to take them on. The spies reinforce their awe of the Anakites and their power by concluding their report: “And there we saw the nephilim, sons of Anak from the nephilim, and we were in our eyes like grasshoppers and so we were in their eyes” (Num 13:33). These are the same Anakites that Joshua and Caleb allegedly chase off the land in the book of Joshua. The Anakites again appear in Moses’ retelling of the wilderness journey in Deuteronomy. They are the yardstick against which other powerful peoples are measured. For instance, in describing the Emim who once inhabited the land of Ar, Moses explains that the Emim were “a people great and numerous, and tall like the Anakites. Like the Anakites they are counted as Rephaim [giants]” (Deut 2:10–11). Moses repeats this reference word for word a few verses later: “a people great and numerous and tall like the Anakites” (Deut 2: 21). The Anakites are a people who stand out in Moses’ memory precisely because of their strength, numbers and height. In fact, when Moses exhorts the people to prepare themselves to conquer the land, he warns them of the challenge, especially in confronting “a people great and tall, the sons of the Anakites who you know, and you have heard ‘who can stand up against the sons of Anak?’ ” (Deut 9:2). It is left to Joshua and Caleb, years later, to try to answer that question in the affirmative by confronting the Anakites. Moses’ rhetorical question haunts the account in Joshua. One attempt is not enough as evidenced in the efforts described first of Joshua and then of Caleb. References to the Anakites in Numbers and Deuteronomy provide a graphic and memorable prehistory of this powerful people. They have the unfortunate habit of persisting as a symbol of those peoples who the Israelites are unable to vanquish. The powerful presence of the Anakites in

66  The wilderness journey and its end territory later held by Joshua functions within the narrative as a space of resistance to the Israelites that calls attention to their inability to conquer the Promised Land in its entirety. An epilogue substantiates the continuing presence of the Anakites. As the book of Judges, which immediately follows Joshua, opens, the narrator describes the defeat of none other than Sheshai, Ahiman and Talmai, still in Hebron, but this time by the hand of those from Judah after Joshua’s death (Judges 1:10). Not only do the Anakites counter the dream of a complete conquest of the land, they are a recurring nightmare.

Living among the nations in the land As we have seen, the local inhabitants remain in areas allotted by God and Joshua to the Reubenites, Gadites and the half-tribe of Manasseh on the other side of the Jordan, and to Judah and Joseph in the land. In the remaining chapters of the book, Joshua allots land to the other tribes. Names of strangers are now replaced with names of towns and villages (Joshua 15:21– 62 provides a typical example).54 Battlefields are replaced with borders and boundaries between tribes of Israelites. The daughters of Zelophehad are given their promised inheritance. Cities of refuge are established as are cities for the Levitical priests. The Reubenites, Gadites and half-tribe of Manasseh again declare their loyalty to the people Israel. These details hearken back quite specifically to the way in which the book of Numbers concludes its narrative of the wilderness wandering by attending to details in the land about to be entered. Now that the land is in the hands of the Israelites, the echo of those details – cities of refuge and of Levites, the daughters of Zelophehad, and the Reubenites, Gadites and the half-tribe of Manasseh – neatly confirm a present that has fulfilled the anticipation and arrangements of the past. All appears to have ended well: And YHWH gave to Israel all the land that God had sworn to give to their fathers and they possessed it and settled in it. And YHWH gave them rest from all around as God had sworn to their fathers and no man stood before them from all their enemies; all their enemies YHWH had given into their hands. Not one thing fell short from all the good things that God had spoken to the house of Israel. Everything came about. Josh 21:43–45 God has done God’s part. But human schemes and worries continue. Immediately after this eloquent picture of God’s keeping faith with the people Israel, contention and suspicion break out among them. The Reubenites, Gadites and half-tribe of Manassah, on the other side of the Jordan, outside the land given to the Israelites, build an altar to God. When questioned by the tribes who angrily race to confront and reproach them, the Reubenites explain that

Crossing over and settling the land  67 they are worried about protecting the legitimacy of their children’s claim to be part of God’s people in the future. The Reubenites elaborate: Only out of worry from this thing did we do this, saying, tomorrow your children will say to our children, “What are you to YHWH, Lord of Israel? A boundary YHWH has placed between us and you, children of Reuben and children of Gad: the Jordan. You have no part in YHWH.” And thus your children might put an end to our children worshipping YHWH. Josh 22:24–25 The explanation appeases the other tribes. The story ends on a positive note with peace restored among the people Israel. The altar is named: “Witness between us that YHWH is Elohim” (Josh 22:34). Crisis has been averted. Yet the episode is puzzling, coming so close to the conclusion of Joshua. The extent to which the situation of the two-and-a-half tribes on the other side of the Jordan is mentioned is noteworthy. They must repeatedly prove their loyalty at the beginning, in the middle and now at the end of the book. Their identity as Israelites and their care in not separating themselves from the fate of their people are in need of constant illustration as if the other tribes, as well as later readers, need reassurance. Israelite anxiety over the actions of the two-and-a-half tribes appears directly related to their settlement outside the borders of the land. Their story’s resolution reinforces that the people Israel are united by more than territory. YHWH unifies them rather than land. The continued allegiance of the two-and-a-half tribes provides a way for the people Israel to endure whether or not they live in the land. No doubt their story encourages Israelites from a later period when facing the possibility of exile.55 The threat of tribal warfare is only the first of several challenges to come before the ending of Joshua’s narrative even if those challenges are not immediately apparent. The penultimate chapter of Joshua opens with what sounds like a satisfactory ending to the entire work: “And it was many days after YHWH had given rest to Israel from all its enemies around them, and Joshua was old, advanced in days” (Josh 23:1). Joshua delivers a parting speech to the children of Israel in an echo of another speech given long ago on the other side of the Jordan, outside the land. This time he delivers his speech in the land. The frame of the entire narrative seems to confirm the success of the enterprise. But the narrative does not end on that positive and hopeful note. Joshua’s speech to the elders raises a warning to the people Israel. Temptations will remain their lot, especially since they will continue to live not only with part of their people on the other side of the Jordan but with strangers and their gods within the land. The speech is rhetorically powerful. It begins with great certainty, reminding the people of all that YHWH has done for

68  The wilderness journey and its end them and their own military might. At the same time, it bears the ambiguity and tension due to the Israelite failure to completely rid the land of other peoples. YHWH has driven out from in front of you great and mighty nations and you – not a man has withstood you until this day. One of you can pursue a thousand because YHWH your God He has been fighting for you as He said to you and you should carefully guard your souls to love YHWH your God because if you decidedly turn and cling to the remnants of these people, these who remain with you, and you marry among them and you join them and them you, know for certain that YHWH your God will not continue to drive these nations out before you. Josh 23:9–13a The remaining nations are mentioned three times in Joshua 23 in verses 4, 7 and 12. The Israelites are urged to “cling” to God in verse 8, and warned not to “cling” to the other nations in verse 12. Becoming ever more urgent as he continues, Joshua reminds the people that their futures remain in the balance between good and evil. Their fate rests on whether or not they will succumb to the temptation of worshipping other gods. The speech communicates a fear that Israelite fidelity to YHWH and Israelite distinctiveness remain fragile. This urgent speech before all Israel is not Joshua’s last. It is followed by another in the final chapter of the book, as Joshua assembles the people once more, this time at Shechem. One pointed and urgent speech followed by another is a sign not only that Joshua is about to die and realizes that he is running out of time to instruct the people, but that his mission is incomplete. He does not appear satisfied with the first speech nor will he be satisfied with the second. The problem lies in his uncertainty over whether or not he has succeeded in securing the outcome promised by God in the beginning. In his final speech Joshua turns from a warning about the future to a retelling of the past. He recapitulates the entire story of the people in the name of YHWH. He begins with the patriarchs by highlighting that Abraham was born into a family that once worshipped other gods. He moves on to Moses and Aaron, highlighting the moment at the Sea. He recounts the wilderness journey and reminds the Israelites of their first encounters with the Amorites and the Moabites in the wilderness. Encounters with strangers become more pervasive and of longer duration once the people cross into the land and fight. The list is staggeringly comprehensive, including Amorites, Perizzites, Canaanites, Hittites, Girgashites, Hivites and Jebusites. The Israelites are who they are because they repeatedly assert themselves against so many other peoples. At the same time, Joshua’s retelling suggests something else. From the very beginning of their existence, the Israelites are never free of other nations.

Crossing over and settling the land  69 The Israelite story cannot be told without a reminder of the land beyond the Euphrates, the land of Egypt, of the Amorites and the Moabites, the people of Jericho and the peoples of the land. Nowhere in the narrative has there been as clear a statement of the profound entanglements of the people Israel with other peoples as Joshua now gives, just before he dies. Perhaps Joshua 24:14–16 suggests the reason for this return to outsiders. Israelites will continue to have to make a choice between the path laid out for them by YHWH, a path that calls them to distinctiveness, or fall prey to the temptations of the peoples among whom they live. And now, revere YHWH and worship him in innocence and in truth and turn away from the gods whom your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates and in Egypt and serve YHWH. And if this is bad in your eyes to serve YHWH, choose today whom you will serve – either the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates or the gods of the Amorites among whom you are settled in this land, but I and my house shall serve YHWH and the people answered and said, “Far be it from us to abandon YHWH and serve other gods.” Joshua 24:14–16 As put by Danna Nolan Fewell, the Amorite option is an “unsavory alternative . . . [instead] Israel renews its commitment to the covenant, to singularity of purpose and identity.”56 But surprisingly verse 14 suggests something else as well. In its origins, Israel served strange gods. Israelites cannot, and do not, develop as a people in a vacuum but only through persistent and ongoing encounters with strangers, including the strangers that they once were.

Saviors, fools and strongmen This reading of the book of Joshua illustrates the extent to which stories of strangers enable the Israelites to work out their own story, including their status as strangers from the perspective of the Canaanites. Joshua is a book of self-identity as Israel relies on Torah, YHWH, circumcision, the celebration of Pesach and a shared narrative of the recent past to strengthen its boundaries as a people before and during their many encounters of the peoples in the land. Perhaps most pertinent to the story of Israelite identity in the book of Joshua is the exploitation of the threat represented by the inhabitants of the land. That threat becomes the motive for asserting and affirming a shared fate for the 12 tribes, especially the abiding fidelity of the two-and-a-half tribes settled on the other side of the Jordan. Reubenites, Gadites, and the half-tribe of Manasseh prove their allegiance to the people Israel by crossing over the Jordan to fight on their behalf. The many battles that follow confirm the assumption that violent conflict against strangers plays a central role in the process of building and reinforcing a collective identity.57

70  The wilderness journey and its end Strangers are more than the threats they represent or the roles assigned to them. In fact, strangers per se are not the problem. The stories of encounters of Israelites and local inhabitants categorize strangers in a variety of nuanced ways. Not all strangers in Joshua are enemy combatants. L. Daniel Hawk captures that nuance. The face-to-face encounters with the people of Canaan reveal the humanity of the indigenous inhabitants and directly counter the faceless anonymity of the battle reports. In those reports, the peoples of the land are little more than figures in a list. In the personalized accounts, however, Israel sees its face reflected in the indigenous Other.58 Rahab teaches the Israelites that a stranger may save them. She shrewdly rescues the Israelites while affirming the power of YHWH, a god not her own. Rahab is a praiseworthy and desirable neighbor who lives peacefully with her family among the Israelites. Even a collective group of strangers, the Gibeonites, can be tolerated, though subjugated. The Gibeonites claim that they too, like the Israelites, require sanctuary. The disguise they choose to deceive the Israelites suggests an identification with them and a recognition that they must find a way to coexist. Rahab and the Gibeonites illustrate a knowledge of the Israelites that make them compatible neighbors rather than strangers. Those who do pose serious threats within the book, labeled collectively as the seven nations, appear to do so due to their proximity, their claims to lands that the Israelites want for themselves, and their religious practices, especially in worshipping other gods. As we have seen, the attraction, and perhaps shared background, between Israelites and Canaanites fuels the harshness of the Israelite response. The seven nations are perceived as a monolith, with few distinctions drawn among them. They are ‘the other’ against whom the Israelites distinguish themselves. The seven nations do not function only to facilitate and reinforce the constructed identity of the people Israel. Through them a sustained reflection on violence and its limits unfolds over the course of the narrative. At first the threats from the seven nations readily dissolve within the narratives of Joshua. Descriptions of anxious and fearful local kings assuage Israelite concerns in contrast to the terror of their parents 40 years earlier when they first scouted the land. Israelite interactions with the local kings are carried out against a background of violence and threat, ruthless conquest and glorious victory. Yet the tales have the flavor of fantastic and mythic accomplishments, recounted and preserved on behalf of an Israelite audience. In Joshua’s depiction of Israelites and strangers an alternative story can also be discerned. Easy victories, whether through violence or trickery, give way to a more sober assessment. Simply put, strangers persist. As put by Hawk, Joshua contains: an intense concern for group survival and the maintenance of internal boundaries. These claims are opposed by a narrated reality represented

Crossing over and settling the land  71 by episodes and reports that argue for moderation as Israel takes it place among other peoples who inhabit the land. Narrated reality thus resists the imposition of inflexible idealism, engendering a pronounced ambivalence regarding Israel’s identity, status and relationship to other peoples of Canaan.59 Perhaps this other, ambivalent story emerges from the fact that the Israelites begin their life in the land as the strangers and remain so; their conquest is ever incomplete and partial. Israel’s many battles in and for the land require a violence that has no end and a land that cries out for rest. This alternative view exposes the fears and anxieties of a weary people who must do battle against the likes of the Anakites, still powerful, still men of stature. It raises the specter of the ‘remnants,’ those people who will not be dislodged but stubbornly persist in the land. Note that an acknowledgement of others in Joshua is fueled not by moral qualms of conquest but pragmatic recognition of the reality of living side by side with other peoples. I share this conclusion, emerging from my close reading of Joshua, with Gordon Mitchell: There is a desire for a land free of foreigners, and a vivid dream which brings death and destruction to the nations and results in the one, holy nation, alone occupying the land. However, even within this world created by the narrator, there is the recognition that foreigners remain. The narrative moves to and fro between ‘dream’ and reality’. The implied author lives with this unresolved tension, while the implied audience enters the dream world only to find that the dawn presents the reality.60 Israelites must come to terms with the challenge of living side by side with strangers. It is their fate. At narrative’s end, the Israelites perhaps are no longer strange, but they are not yet at home. Strangeness itself persists. No better tale exists to illustrate the enduring presence of strangers, both inside and out, than that of Samson and the Philistines, to which we now turn.

Notes 1 This list appears in Joshua 3:10 and 9:1. For a summary of its functions see Gordon Mitchell, Together in the Land: A Reading of the Book of Joshua (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1993), 124. Carl-Hohan Axskjold, Aram as the Enemy Friend: The Ideological Role of Aram in the Composition of Genesis-2 Kings (Stockholm: Almquvist and Wiksell International, 1998), 57, argues that the mission of the nations was to “ ‘test’ Israel during her conquest of Canaan . . . Consequently they are mostly found in the texts describing the early history of Israel (Gen, Exod, Josh).” For a detailed description of the Seven Nations or “PseudoCanaanites” see Lukasz Niesiolowski-Spano, Goliath’s Legacy, Philistines and Hebrews in Biblical Times, trans. Maria Kantor (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2016), 53–73.

72  The wilderness journey and its end 2 I prefer ‘strangers’ to ‘stranger.’ The singular assumes that all strangers are uniform. I aim to elucidate the variety of types and behaviors that represent biblical strangers. A range of perspectives leads to a range of possible responses. 3 Frank Spina, The Faith of the Outsider (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2005), 52. 4 Richard Kearney, Strangers, Gods and Monsters (London: Routledge, 2003), 3. 5 Jacob L. Wright, David, King of Israel and Caleb in Biblical Memory (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014), 16–17 argues that the commemoration of battles resolve issues of belonging and status within a collective. 6 Lori L. Rowlett, Joshua and the Rhetoric of Violence (Sheffield, England: Sheffield Academic Press, 1996), 158. 7 David Jobling and Catherine Rose, “Reading as a Philistine: The ancient and modern history of a cultural slur,” in Ethnicity and the Bible, ed. Mark G. Brett (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2002), 381 remind us of the Canaanite perspective: “The conquest story tells how one’s own people have to be dispossessed to fulfill a promise of liberation to another people.” 8 Ann E. Killebrew, Biblical Peoples and Ethnicity (Leiden: Brill, 2005), 14. 9 Yair Zakovitch, Jacob, trans. Valerie Zakovitch (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2012), 4. 10 Sigmund Freud describes wish fulfillment in The Interpretation of Dreams, trans. James Strachey (New York: Avon Books, 1965). 11 Canaanites are perceived in a number of ways throughout Joshua and not just at its end. As put by Danna Nolan Fewell, “Joshua,” in Women’s Bible Commentary, eds. Carol Newsom and Sharon Ringe (Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press, 1998), 69, even though the narrative strongly differentiates between insiders (Israelites) and outsiders (Canaanites), “there is yet a subversive descant fostering ambiguity about identity.”   Judges portrays other peoples in the land who cyclically oppress the Israelites. I have chosen to analyze Joshua in its entirety over Judges because it portrays initial encounters between Israelites and the local inhabitants. First impressions reveal expectations, stereotypes and fears. I focus on the Philistines of Judges in my chapter 4. 12 According to Deuteronomy 7 and 12, once the Israelites enter the land they must impose a ban, or herem, on the seven nations, avoid their gods and smash their altars. Joshua seeks to implement those instructions. 13 Rowlett, Joshua and the Rhetoric of Violence, 162 highlights the Transjordan tribes in “forging diverse subgroups into a national entity . . . [which is] central to the Book of Joshua.” 14 Sarah Lebhar Hall, Conquering Character (New York: T & T Clark, 2010), 30 n. 9, identifies shared vocabulary between Numbers 13–14 and Joshua 2. 15 Nasili Vaka’uta, “Border Crossing/Body Whoring: Rereading Rahab of Jericho with Native Women,” in Bible, Borders, Belonging(s) Engaging Readings From Oceania, eds. Jione Havea, David J. Neville and Elaine M. Wainwright (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2014), 152. Vaka’uta describes native women as mediating figures “by means of which men orient themselves in space, as agents of power and agents of knowledge,” 147. Rahab possesses knowledge needed by the scouts and power to protect them from Jericho’s king. 16 Phyllis Bird, “The Harlot as Heroine,” in Women in the Hebrew Bible, ed. Alice Bach (New York: Routledge, 1999), 100. 17 See Marc Brettler, eds. Adele Berlin, Marc Brettler, The Jewish Study Bible (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), 466, n. 2 for a concise summary of Jewish and Christian re-readings of Rahab. Carolyn J. Sharp refers to early Christian readings of Rahab in Irony and Meaning in the Hebrew Bible (Bloomington:

Crossing over and settling the land  73 Indiana University Press, 2009), 281, n. 43 while taking a page from colonialist criticism in her reading. 18 Bird, “The Harlot as Heroine,” 101, notes that the zona lives ‘in the shadow of the wall’ not only in the biblical text but also in the Gilgamesh Epic. Rahab’s location on the periphery of the city parallels her marginal social status. 19 Jericho sits in a liminal zone, part of a geographical region vulnerable to conquest. For descriptions of early biblical towns on the border, see Literate Culture and Tenth Century Canaan, eds. Ron Tappy and P. Kyle McCarter, Jr. (Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 2008) particularly Ron Tappy, “Tel Zayit and the Tel Zayit Abecedary in Their Regional Context,” 15–18. 20 Rahab’s story alludes to saving Moses whose mother “hides” him in Exodus 2:2. Rahab “hides” the scouts in Joshua 2:4. Tikva Frymer-Kensky, “Reading Rahab,” in Tehillah le-Moshe, eds. Mordechai Cogan, Barry Eichler and Jeffrey Tigay (Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 1997), 59 observes that the verb appears within the phrase “and she hid him” only twice in the Hebrew Bible. 21 Mitchell, Together in the Land, 55 notes the term appears nine times in Deuteronomy, eight times in I Samuel, a few times in Judges and I, II Kings but “a whopping 27 times in Joshua!” Rahab’s reference to the battles against Sihon and Og echoes the repeated mention of those battles in Deuteronomy 1:4–5, 2:24–25, 3 and 4:44–49. They are mentioned again at Deuteronomy’s end in 29:6 and 31:4, framing that passage. 22 Rahab uses the phrase “YHWH Your God he is God in the Heavens above and on the earth below,” in Joshua 2:11. Spina, The Faith of the Outsider, 60 points out: [that the phrase] is found only three times in the entire Old Testament. In fact, later Jewish scribes known as Masoretes saw this phrase’s triple occurrence as sufficiently noteworthy to mark the other two uses in the margin of this text. It turns out that Moses and Solomon are the only other characters who make the same acclamation (Deut. 4:39; 1 Kgs. 8:23). It is nothing short of astonishing that Rahab utters this formula and in so doing puts herself in the same company with those two biblical heavyweights. 23 Mitchell, Together in the Land, 142–144 observes the way in which ‘hearing’ weaves together stories in Joshua. 24 According to Hall, Conquering Character, 40, Rahab and Jethro have much in common with declarations of other non-Israelites, including the widow of Zarephath in I Kings 17:24 and Naaman in 2 Kings 5:15. Susan Niditch, War in the Hebrew Bible: A Study in the Ethics of Violence (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), 59 adds the Pharaoh in Genesis 41, Balaam in Numbers, and the Gibeonites in Joshua 9 to the list of non-Israelites who confirm God’s power. 25 The term ‫ חסד‬reappears in Judges. An unnamed man helps a group of Israelites enter Bet-El just as he is leaving town. Their comings and goings parallel those of the spies and their pursuers in Joshua. To motivate the unnamed man the Israelites promise to treat him with loyalty ‫ חסד‬in Judges 1:22–26. While destroying the town, the Israelites release the man and his relatives. Rahab and the unnamed stranger confirm not only that Israelites have no problem in making pacts of loyalty with non-Israelites but also depend upon them to ensure Israelite successes. 26 Mitchell, Together in the Land, 187. 27 Timothy K. Beal, The Book of Hiding (London, New York: Routledge, 1997), 51 defines a threshold character as a figure lurking: “on the edge or periphery, on borderlines . . . neither inside nor outside . . . [but] always found along the edges.” 28 Bird, “The Harlot as Heroine,” 105.

74  The wilderness journey and its end 29 Susanne Gillmayr-Bucher, “ ‘She Came to Test Him with Hard Questions’: Foreign Women and Their View on Israel,” Biblical Interpretation 15 (2007): 146. 30 W. Brueggemann as quoted by Mitchell, Together in the Land, 42. 31 See my work, Memory and Tradition in the Book of Numbers (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008) for commemorations in the wilderness. Rachel Havrelock “The Two Maps of Israel’s Land,” JBL 126, 4 (2007): 663 highlights the use of the Jordan River in Joshua in creating a national myth: “As the Nile and the Euphrates respectively signify Egypt and Babylonia, the insertion of the Jordan into this category enables it to signify Israel and to assume a symbolic import incommensurate with its size.” 32 Niditch, War in the Hebrew Bible, 58. 33 Hall, Conquering Character, 91 places Joshua’s concern about God’s reputation in a broader context: “In its ancient Near Eastern context, Israel’s dramatic victory at Jericho would have played an important part in establishing the authority and prerogative of Joshua and his god. Hittite documents demonstrate the importance of success in a military leader’s first campaign; his potential for respect and acceptance was largely dependent upon it.” 34 JPS translation. 35 Rowlett, Joshua and the Rhetoric of Violence, 12–13. 36 The pairing of Rahab and Achan is noted by Rowlett, Joshua and the Rhetoric of Violence, 176. Nolan Fewell, “Joshua,” 70 points out the different ramifications of ‫ חרם‬for the families of Rahab and Achan: “Whereas Rahab, a Canaanite woman, saves her whole family, Achan, an Israelite man, is instrumental in destroying his.” 37 Mitchell, Together in the Land, 58. For details of the extensive use of the ban in war, see Niditch, War in the Hebrew Bible, 28–77. 38 E. Theodore Mullen, Jr., Narrative History and Ethnic Boundaries (Atlanta, Georgia: Scholars Press, 1993), 16 notes of this moment: “The ethnic descriptors in Deuteronomy [have] been realized with the conquest of the land and reconfirmed by the ritual recreation of the covenantal ceremony led by Joshua.” 39 Frymer-Kensky,“Reading Rahab,” 64, n. 27. 40 Mockery while killing strangers is developed in Judges. Eglon, the mighty king of the Moabites, is imagined by his guards sitting on a toilet when he is actually sprawled out dead on the floor. Sisera, a mighty commander of the Canaanites, is swaddled in a blanket and given warm milk by Yael, who moments later drives a tent peg through his temple. 41 Beal, The Book of Hiding, 2. 42 L. Daniel Hawk, Joshua, Berit Olam (Collegeville, Minnesota: The Liturgical Press, 2000), 20 writes: “In the stories of Rahab and the Gibeonites, outsiders survive and live within Israel. Conversely, the story of Achan presents an insider who is excluded from the community.” 43 Rowlett, Joshua and the Rhetoric of Violence, 171 points out that exposing corpses and trodding on the neck of enemies with one’s foot are Assyrian tactics of “psychological warfare.” 44 Mitchell, Together in the Land, 91. 45 Rowlett, Joshua and the Rhetoric of Violence, 104 describes precise Assyrian parallels to the biblical emphasis on the role of the gods in inflicting humiliation on the enemy. 46 Walter Brueggemann, Divine Presence amid Violence (Oregon: Cascade Books, 2009), 33, notes that horses and chariots “symbolize and embody oppression. They function only to impose harsh control on some by others. They must be destroyed. Yahweh authorizes their destruction.” 47 Kearney, Strangers, Gods and Monsters, 26.

Crossing over and settling the land  75 48 Hawk, Joshua, 167. 49 Havrelock, “The Two Maps of Israel’s Land,” 651 describes these tales as “fantasies of power.” Thomas Römer, Dark God: Cruelty, Sex, and Violence in the Old Testament (New York: Paulist Press, 2013), 76 points out that in Joshua “Yhwh is clearly presented as a warrior-God who is the high chief of a people who are just as warlike as he is.” 50 Mitchell, Together in the Land, 93, reminds us that Goliath comes from Gath, confirming the textual presence of giants long after Joshua’s death. 51 Paula McNutt, “ ‘Fathers of the Empty Spaces’ and ‘Strangers Forever’: Social Marginality and the Construction of Space,” in Imagining Biblical Worlds, eds. David M. Gunn and Paula McNutt (London: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002), 35 describes Edward Soja’s conception of counterspaces: “spaces of resistance to the dominant order that arise from within subordinate, peripheral or marginalized contexts.” The physical arena of the Anakites suggests such a space. 52 Wright, David, King of Israel and Caleb in Biblical Memory, 185–186 highlights Caleb’s role and the crucial importance of Hebron/Kiriath-arba for early Judah. He addresses texts on Anakites in Joshua and Deuteronomy, 199–201. 53 As suggested by Robert Cohn, “Before Israel: The Canaanites as Other in Biblical Tradition,” in The Other in Jewish Thought and History, eds. Laurence J. Silberstein and Robert L. Cohn (New York, London: New York University Press, 1994), 72. 54 McNutt, “Fathers of the Empty Spaces,” 39 explains the shift from defeated king lists in chapter 12 to those of territories to be settled by Israelites in chapter 15: “The terms used stand for sets of relationships among peoples that are expressed sometimes by naming the peoples themselves, and at other times they stand for the spaces in which they are known to reside or control.” 55 David Frankel places Joshua’s narratives in the context of identity politics in the post-exilic period in his work, The Land of Canaan and the Destiny of Israel (Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 2011), 193–194. 56 Nolan Fewell, “Joshua,” 70. 57 Laurence J. Silberstein, “Others Within and Others Without: Rethinking Jewish Identity and Culture,” in The Other in Jewish Thoughts, eds. Laurence Silberstein and Robert Cohn (New York: New York University Press, 1994), 5. 58 L. Daniel Hawk, “Conquest Reconfigured: Recasting Warfare in the Redaction of Joshua,” in Writing and Reading War, Rhetoric, Gender and Ethics in Biblical and Modern Contexts, eds. Brad Kelle and Frank Ritchel Ames (Atlanta: Society for Biblical Literature, 2008), 154. 59 L. Daniel Hawk, “The Problem with Pagans,” in Reading Bibles, Writing Bodies, eds. Timothy Beal and David Gunn (London, New York: Routledge, 1997), 153. 60 Mitchell, Together in the Land, 190.

Part 2

Living in the land

4 Enemies in the borderlands

Escaping famine in the Promised Land, Isaac retraces his father’s steps and finds himself in Gerar, still ruled by King Avimelech of the Philistines (Gen 26:1). According to the biblical account, Philistine proximity to the Promised Land leads to ongoing entanglements, both good and bad, with the people Israel. Isaac finds security and prosperity in the land of the Philistines. But he is forced to move on after becoming the target of their resentment. In the books of Judges and Samuel, the foci of this chapter and the next, Israelites resume relationships with the Philistines that continue to be defined by attraction and repulsion on both sides. Historically, after migrating to the Eastern Mediterranean during a protracted period in the 12th century B.C.E., the Philistines become the dominant political and military force of the region. Their arrival around the same time as the formation of Israel in the highlands of Canaan is recalled in the stories of Samson, Saul and David. As argued by Ronald Hendel, the Philistines are “the major impetus in the transformation of Israel from a tribal society to a unified kingdom with a permanent standing army. The Philistines were the dominant foreign Other in this crucial period. . . .”1 In my discussion of the Philistines in this chapter and the next I will follow Lawrence Stager’s proposed periodization of them based on biblical texts rather than on historical and/or archeological reconstruction.2 Stager’s period 1 and period 2 cover the pertinent texts in my reading: [Period 1] The age of the patriarchs (Gen 20–21, 26), focusing on Abimelech, king of the Philistines, in the region of Gerar. . . . [period 2] The era of the judges and the establishment of the United Monarchy under David (Judges through 1–2 Samuel). These episodes take place within the framework of the Deuteronomistic Historian(s) and, in turn, can be subdivided into (a) the Samson cycle, a ‘border epic’ involving the Philistines of the pentapolis and the Israelites of the foothills; (b) the movement of the Ark of the Covenant from the times of the Shilonite priesthood through the career of the Judge Samuel, and the limited success of the latter in stemming the Philistine takeover of the hill country after the battle of Ebenezer and the destruction of Shiloh; (c) renewed

80  Living in the land fighting between the Philistines and Israel’s first king, Saul, which ends in the disastrous defeat of the Israelites and their king in the battle of Mt. Gilboa; and (d) the reversal of Israel’s fortunes in the era of David, who unites the tribes, conquers Jerusalem, and drives the Philistines out of the highlands. . . .3 Biblical writers shape Israelite interactions with the Philistines to tell a tale of Israelite settlement in the Promised Land surrounded by strangers not within the land but along its borders. The Philistines differ from the Canaanites in living in their own territory. In the Bible’s ideological geography, the Philistines are a different kind of enemy from the Canaanites. The latter inhabit space which is to be Israel’s. The Philistines, on the other hand, are invaders from the outside; they have their own space, which is not (at least Judges and I Samuel) claimed by Israel.4 Rather than a formalized demarcation of territory, an uninhabited region keeps the two peoples apart. Joel Baden argues that during the time depicted in Judges through 1 Samuel, neither Israel nor Philistia was a politically defined state as we understand the word today. There were no cartographers to draw lines indicating where one territory began and another ended. . . . The geography of Canaan was such that the major inhabited sites were often quite some distance from each other, separated by hills or by stretches of wilderness. There were no clear borders between Israelite and Philistine territory; there was merely open space.5 Biblical stories of Israelites and Philistines unfold in those open spaces or borderlands.6 An intimate search for identity occurs in Judges between an individual Israelite, Samson and his Philistine counterparts. Samson’s story adds desire and curiosity to the mix of motives we have observed so far in Israelite engagements with strangers. In addition, God purposefully guides Samson’s forays into Philistine lands. The narrator explains that YHWH “sought a pretext against the Philistines for at that time the Philistines ruled over Israel” (Judges 14:4). Samson ignites a quarrel with the Philistines according to God’s plan so that the Israelites see them as hostile, threatening adversaries rather than benign rulers. Adding a simple dash to the English translation in 14:4 allows me to take it literally, as a pre-text that draws the reader’s attention to the explicit use that God (and the biblical writer) makes of Samson and of the Philistines in the unfolding narrative. Samson’s tale, found in Judges 13–16, graphically and poignantly illustrates the repercussions of being used as God’s pretext against the Philistines.

Enemies in the borderlands  81 The reason for Samson’s birth, the purpose of his life and the circumstances of his death are shaped by God’s plans against the Philistines. But the Philistines share with Samson a status as divine pawns with terrible consequences for all concerned. Philistines provide the opportunity for the writer(s) to achieve certain literary, psychological, political and theological goals in characterizing Israelites. But Samson also provides the writer the opportunity to develop a more nuanced portrait of Philistines. I focus on Samson, a character richly interpreted by many others, precisely because his characterization sheds light on my primary interest, the Philistines. Samson’s interactions with the Philistines are contained in four chapters of Judges that are remarkably detailed and fast-paced. Beginning as potential neighbors, each step or action taken by Samson or the Philistines toward one another intensifies the antagonism between them so that in the end they are enemies who become mirror images of one another, throwing critical light on both sides. The depiction of the Philistines in these stories is stereotyped, mocking and harshly critical. Yet, perhaps as a testament to the writer’s sophistication, stereotypes, ridicule and harsh criticism are leveled in equal measure at Samson. The tales evoke a parody of warriors acting in a self-destructive and senseless fashion. Each side is obsessively driven to obtain power by besting the other. At the same time, a biblical admiration of the Philistine way of life can be glimpsed, creating a sympathetic, if subtle, portrait of such important neighbors of Israel. Shifting our gaze to the Philistines results in a richer reflection on their experience and sympathy for their fate. Such a reading restores, though admittedly in a limited way, “submerged subjectivities in texts.”7 I begin by returning to Genesis 26. Isaac’s stay in the land of the Philistines provides a paradigm for understanding their subsequent portrayal in Samson’s story. They are neighbors with whom business and negotiation can occur and enemies who must be fought and defeated. I follow Isaac’s tale in the land of the Philistines with a brief digression into poetic and prophetic musings that alternate between a positive view of the Philistines and condemnations of them as enemies of Israel. In the remainder of the chapter I examine Samson’s entanglements with the Philistines in the borderlands.

Wealth and wells in the land of the Philistines References to Philistines in the book of Genesis are anachronistic; the group identified as the biblical Philistines arrived in the area around the 1170s BCE, long after the alleged period of the patriarchs.8 Nonetheless, according to the biblical narrative Isaac negotiates with the Philistines over water and territory, just as his father Abraham had done before him. The presence of the Philistines suggests that they were too imposing a people to be ignored by later biblical writers in the final version of Genesis. That the Philistines

82  Living in the land return to interact with Isaac in Genesis 26 highlights their importance in the patriarchal stories. It is not clear if Isaac’s Avimelech is the same figure that Abraham dealt with in Genesis 20.9 The portrait of the first Avimelech is strikingly positive. In contrast to the Egyptians, Avimelech is a stranger with whom Abraham can peacefully cooperate. Thus it should come as no surprise in Genesis 26 when God orders Isaac to retrace the steps of his father and return to the land of Avimelech in a time of famine rather than to Egypt. Like his father before him, Isaac is a stranger in a land not his own. As we have seen in the stories of the Midianites and the Canaanites, who is considered strange remains an open question. Moses is a stranger in a strange land. The Israelites are the strangers to the land that they are promised by God. In Isaac’s case, being a stranger makes him fearful and anxious. Isaac pretends that Rebecca is his sister rather than his wife, as Abraham did with Sarah, and for the same reason.10 Isaac fears that the people of the land will kill him, a vulnerable outsider, in order to take Rebecca. He shares in common with Abraham an assumption that the Philistines, just as the Egyptians, are sexual predators. Avimelech proves him wrong. Avimelech discovers the true nature of Isaac’s relationship with Rebecca by observing them ‘playing’ (perhaps sexually). After rebuking Isaac for the deception, Avimelech publicly protects the man and his wife by revealing their relationship to the local people. He announces that the consequence of touching either one of them is punishment by death. Sexual anxieties and projections between Israelites and Philistines pervade their encounters of one another. Israelite males fear that strangers will take Israelite women. But in an alternative version, evident in Samson’s story, the Philistines have cause to worry that Israelite men will take their women. Samson is depicted as a sexual predator on the prowl, demanding a Philistine woman and later going to a Philistine prostitute. Both Philistine and Israelite men have in common a patriarchal impulse to protect (and control) women. But in contrast to Avimelech’s peaceful intervention in Isaac’s story, God uses Samson’s desires to ignite a conflict between Israelites and Philistines. All goes exceedingly well for Isaac as it had for his father. The narrator describes Isaac’s success in the land of the Philistines in hyperbolic fashion. And Isaac sowed in that land and reaped in that year a hundredfold and God blessed him. And the man became great, and went on, went on becoming greater, until he was exceedingly great; he had herds of sheep and herds of oxen and a large retinue of servants, and the Philistines envied him. Gen 26:12–1411 “Blessing” appears five times in the chapter to emphasize the extent to which God sanctions Isaac’s stay in Philistine lands. The good fortune that

Enemies in the borderlands  83 Isaac finds with the Philistines parallels the good fortune Moses finds in the tent of Jethro the Midianite. However, the brief reference to Philistine envy of Isaac at the end of verse 14 hints at the conflict about to erupt. Jealous of Isaac’s success, the Philistines stop up the wells dug in his father’s time, to which Isaac holds claim (based on a prior treaty in Genesis 21). Even Avimelech reaches the limit of tolerance, perhaps sensing the growing potential for violence from his own people. He orders Isaac to move on. Upon his arrival first at the wadi of Gerar and then at Sitnah, conflict arises with the local people who claim the water as their own. Philistine envy of the increasingly wealthy stranger triggers the conflict with Isaac but it worsens due to the scarcity of a crucial resource – water. Isaac returns to Beer-sheba and sets up camp. Avimelech arrives with his general in tow, and a negotiation ensues that reconfirms the covenant treaty earlier established by Avimelech with Abraham. Isaac loses no time in reminding Avimelech of his hostility toward, and expulsion of, Isaac. Unfazed and intent on highlighting those facts that emphasize their more peaceful interchanges, Avimelech explains his motive in renewing the covenant with Isaac. Since YHWH is with Isaac, Avimelech wants to share in his good fortune. Avimelech reminds Isaac of the protection he has provided him. He urges him not to replace the goodness showed him by the Philistines with evil. Avimelech concludes by hoping that Isaac continues to receive the blessing of YHWH. He shows himself to be a diplomat and a conciliator, and his recognition of YHWH wins the day. Isaac and Avimelech feast together and exchange vows. The king “departs in peace” (Gen 26:31). The tale ends happily after Isaac’s servants find water in the well at Beer-sheba. Several observations are warranted. In their interactions with Philistines, Abraham and Isaac share concerns over the safety of their wives that are resolved to their material advantage, the digging of wells, a certain amount of conflict and a satisfactory ending: a peaceful treaty at Beer-sheba. These events illustrate, endorse and even celebrate a mutually beneficial alliance over time between the patriarchs and the Philistines. Both stories occur with a people who are later portrayed as among the more threatening enemies of Israel. Isaac’s story emphasizes positive as well as negative entanglements with Philistines. Sanctuary, tolerance and success are highlighted even if briefly replaced with the threat of violence, projections of sexual aggression, the challenge of scarcity (whether land or water), and what can be nothing less than a provocative act in an agricultural region that depends on water supplies – the stopping up of wells (Gen 26:15). The Philistine king acknowledges God and restrains his people. Isaac’s sojourn in the land of the Philistines creates a precedent for coexistence between Israelites and Philistines. Biblical writers repeatedly present the choice between collaboration and violence to Israelites. The alternative to Isaac’s collaboration with Philistines

84  Living in the land is Samson’s violence against them. A cycle of violence with horrifying repercussions for both sides ensues. Before turning to depictions of Philistines in Judges, I briefly trace Philistine appearances in prophetic material. Amos makes an astonishing claim for God’s positive relationship to the Philistines while Isaiah articulates the degree to which the people Israel fear them.

Melt away Philistia An early poem found in Exodus 15 describes the enemies along the borders of the Promised Land. These include the ‘dwellers of Philistia’ who are in anguish, the clans of Edom who are in shock, the tribes of Moab who are shaking and all the settlers in Canaan who are aghast when they hear that God split the Reed Sea on behalf of the Israelites. They share a terror and dread of YHWH (Ex 15:14–16). That these other nations are explicitly mentioned in an early poem points to an Israelite awareness of its neighbors. Perhaps paradoxically, at the same time as the poem aims to comfort the Israelites by conjuring up peoples who are terrified of them, its words remind them that they will be in close contact with potentially hostile strangers. The Philistines are located along one edge of Israel, Edom and Moab lie on the other, and the Canaanites live among them in the very midst of the land. The presence of a group of peoples with whom Israel must continually reckon is reinforced in the words of the prophet Amos. He adds the Aramaeans in Damascus and those from Tyre to the list mentioned in Exodus 15.12 Amos also quotes a perplexing question asked by YHWH: “Aren’t you, children of Israel just like the children of the Ethiopians to me, says YHWH. Didn’t I take Israel up from the land of the Egyptians and the Philistines from Caphtor, and the Aramaeans from Kir?” (Amos 9:7). Amos suggests that God’s relationship with the Israelites is neither special nor exclusive. God cherishes other peoples as well, including the Philistines, whom God treats in similar fashion. The prophet goes on to distinguish the fate of Israelites from Philistines. But it is striking that he lists Philistines and Aramaeans along with Israel, even if only in this one passage. Amos’ rhetoric reflects the significant presence of both peoples in biblical narratives as well as their intertwined relationships with the Israelites. Isaiah exults over the negative fate of the Philistines in a prophetic reverie in Isaiah 14:29–32. The prophet’s musing about Philistia follows a long tirade against the Babylonian king, whose death destroys his power, marking him as a mere mortal. The theme of the powerful whose rule is transitory continues in the description of the Assyrians and especially in a tirade against the Philistines. The presence and sequence of Babylon, Assyria and Philistia in one long rebuke suggests that in Isaiah’s mind Philistia is as powerful as these other formidable foes.

Enemies in the borderlands  85 Noting that Philistia appears to have escaped serious harm, Isaiah warns the Philistines against thinking that they are safe. Danger is omnipresent. In a haunting verse the poet demands: Howl gate, cry out city. Melt away Philistia, all of you. Isaiah 14:31 The poet proclaims in the next verse, Isaiah 14:32, that God has established Zion in whose environs the poor of His people shall find shelter. The poetic juxtaposition of “melting” with “establishing” expresses the poet’s hope that in spite of appearances to the contrary, the years of ascendancy for the enemies of Israel are limited in number – not so the Israelites, who will endure long after Philistine cries have faded away. This brief survey of Philistia in Exodus 15, Amos and Isaiah illustrates a biblical awareness of the unavoidable presence of this people in close proximity to the children of Israel.13 They are wistfully imagined in anguish or as melting away. Such assertions suggest the reverse could be true. The Philistines are a powerful force with which to contend. Amos even envisions YHWH placing them on a divine scale in parallel to the Israelites. Both were taken out of one land by YHWH for a better life elsewhere, a life in which they live as neighbors and enemies in Samson’s time.

Grounds for a quarrel: Samson among the Philistines As Samson’s story opens in Judges 13 the Philistines have not ‘melted away.’ They have ruled over the Israelites for 40 years. According to Judges 10:6–7 the Israelites end up serving the gods of the Philistines as well as those of other peoples. Yet Judges 13 does not mention idolatry or Philistine oppression. Nor do the Israelites cry out to God for a savior. In prior chapters of Judges, the phrase ‘YHWH gave them over into the hand of X for forty years’ would usually include those three details. The omission of idolatry, oppression and crying out for a savior in Judges 13 hints at the possibility of an uneventful coexistence between Israelites and Philistines. If so, Samson’s story seeks to explain and justify how stability becomes instability, and how peace turns into conflict. A hostile state of affairs originates in a divine plan. God uses Samson to disrupt a period of quiescence, overturn Philistine rule and renew Israelite fidelity toward YHWH. According to Judges 13–16 the divine plan succeeds, resulting in an extended cycle of violence and recrimination between Israelites and Philistines. The details of Samson’s birth, frequently commented on by other scholars, include an announcement by a divine messenger, Samson’s sensible mother, her report to his bumbling father and Samson’s status as a Nazirite. I want to emphasize two aspects of the story. The divine messenger announces to

86  Living in the land Samson’s mother: “A Nazirite to God the youth shall be from the womb and he will begin to deliver Israel from the hands of the Philistines” (Judges 13:5b). “Begin” sounds rather ominous, suggesting a mission cut off before it is completed. Samson’s mother significantly changes the messenger’s words as she repeats the message to her husband Manoach: “A Nazirite to God the youth shall be from the womb to the day of his death” (Judges 13:7b). The substitution of death for deliverance is ominous indeed.14 At the end of Judges 13 Samson, now a young man, lives with his parents in the camp of Dan, between Zorah and Eshtaol.15 ‘Esh’ or fire introduces Samson’s association with that destructive force. Fire easily burns out of control and indiscriminately damages land, property and people. Tales of Samson as an adult in Judges 14–16 focus almost entirely on his relationship with the Philistines. The traits that Samson brings to his leadership are questionable at best. He is impulsive, provocative, aggressive and prone to devastating acts of violence. Samson moves through the territory of the Philistines in alternating states of curiosity, frenzy and fury. The relationship of this one particular Israelite with Philistines offers a deeply revealing view of both. We would not know Samson without observing his encounters with the Philistines. While first appearing as a foil to Samson, over time, and rather disconcertingly, the Philistines become his mirror image. Like Samson, they too exhibit a thoughtless turn to violence. As Judges 14 opens, Samson sets off for Timnah, a border town in Philistine territory.16 Borderlands are of particular interest in Samson’s story. They are sites of violent conflict, discovery and desire. Ron Tappy describes a unique aspect of such regions and the sorts of exchanges that may occur in them: the concept of a limen, or “threshold,” characterizes accurately the narrow cultural zones that lie just beyond recognized political boundaries, where competing cores seek to stake their claims through the use of myriad symbols, such as architecture, language, ethnicity, cultural or religious traditions and so on.17 Samson readily challenges the Philistines and delightedly competes against them. At the same time, as Samson enters a culture not his own he discovers a people governed by different rules and norms. He senses the opportunity to exchange one sort of affiliation with another and one set of experiences and sensations for another. He is forever on the move, drawn to the new and unfamiliar. For instance, Samson is preoccupied with Philistine women and the opportunity they present for sexual activity. Such behavior is “typical of border regions in many cultures where border-crossing is perceived as a way to escape the sexual constraints of one’s own culture.”18 Samson’s unrestrained behavior and his destructive acts against Philistine men quickly alienate them. Perhaps Samson’s behavior allows him to create a distance from the Philistines to protect the Israelite dimension of his identity.

Enemies in the borderlands  87 He does repeatedly return to the land of his people. But he never does so for long. Samson’s movements are the physical traces of his restlessness. Setting out from the camp of Dan, between Zorah and Eshtaol, Samson goes down to Timnah. He returns to Dan only to travel back to Timnah. From Timnah he goes to Ashkelon, returns to Timnah, encounters members from the tribe of Judah near a cave at the rock of Etam, exults at his escape from Philistines in Lehi, finds himself again in Gaza, escapes to Hebron, arrives at Wadi Sorek, where he meets Delilah, dies in a temple dedicated to Dagon in Gaza, and is buried in the tomb of his father between Zorah and Eshtaol, where his story began. While Samson straddles two peoples and their cultures, his movements suggest a man who belongs nowhere. He “refuses to be confined to settled life, flourishes in the in-between or remote spaces and resists any and all attempts to confine him.”19 Perhaps Samson’s status as a Nazirite contributes to his restlessness. The task God assigns him is thrust upon him without choice. In a lyrical and psychological reading of his story, David Grossman describes Samson as a figure who “struggle[s] to accommodate himself to the powerful destiny imposed upon him, a destiny he was never able to realize nor, apparently, fully to understand.”20 He avoids his own territory, is indifferent to his own people, and is attracted to the Philistines. Samson’s conversations as an adult are with Philistines except for a brief conversation with men from the tribe of Judah. Samson’s behavior makes him a wanted man to the Philistines and a dangerous one to the Israelites.

A riddler as a young man The first tale of Samson as a young adult sets up a familiar pattern while highlighting the traits that make Samson enigmatic and dangerous. We are never quite sure what goes on in his head or what his motives are since his thoughts are expressed cryptically in truncated forms such as riddles or verse. Samson’s riddles are quite striking, embedded as they are in the more common prose of his feats. In fact, “eight of the seventeen occurrences of . . . riddle in the Hebrew Bible are to be found in this chapter [Judges 14].”21 Whereas prose is usually explicit and straightforward, riddles are often indeterminate. In Samson’s case, actions generally speak louder than his words, but it is in his riddles and verse that the meaning of those actions can be glimpsed and occasionally deciphered. When Samson goes down to Timnah he spots a Philistine woman he wants. Samson’s desire reverses the sexual dynamics present in Isaac’s stay among the Philistines. While Isaac fears that the Philistines would kill him to take Rebecca, Samson feels no need to hide his desire for a Philistine woman. As a sexualized object, she signifies a familiar biblical trope: the foreign woman as seductress. But ‘seductress’ is an inaccurate label. The woman has done nothing to provoke the man’s attention. Samson initiates the contact and imperiously demands that his parents “take her for me as

88  Living in the land a wife” (Judges 14:2). Her wishes are omitted. Subsequent events illustrate that Samson and the Philistines have in common their use of this woman, and Philistine women in general, for their own purposes. As a result, Philistine and Israelite women also share something in common: their appropriation as objects of male desire without concern for their wishes. Samson’s parents suggest he stick with a woman from among his kin, or at least from among the Israelites. They describe the Philistines as an uncircumcised (literally and more graphically, “foreskinned”) people.22 The brief interchange, a mere three verses, is rich in indications of ethnic affiliation. We hear of daughters of the Philistines versus daughters of kin, mention of ‘the people,’ the consequential issue of suitable marriage partners, and for good measure, the first mention in Samson’s story of a distinguishing mark between Israelite and Philistine: foreskins. Circumcision is one of the primary signs of the covenant between YHWH and the people Israel and easily distinguishes them from the Philistines. Samson ignores these markers of identity. Not so YHWH. The narrator interjects an explanation of what drives God to act: “His father and his mother didn’t know that this [Samson’s desire for the Philistine woman] came from YHWH, because He was seeking a pretext against the Philistines for in that time Philistines were ruling Israel” (Judges 14:4).23 God seeks a quarrel because the Israelites have grown comfortable under their foreign rulers. One could choose to read all of Samson’s subsequent behavior, frequently problematic, as God’s doing, meant to anger the Philistines so that Samson could kill them off and return the Israelites to their own rule. Samson can be understood as a “political and military tool in God’s hands.”24 If as a ‘tool’ in God’s hands, Samson’s character might appear in a more ironic or tragic light. Grossman offers a psychological rather than theological interpretation of Samson’s behavior, including his frequent escapes to the Philistines. Samson is rejecting a mission that he neither sought nor accepted. The contrast between Samson and the non-Israelite characters Jethro and Rahab is striking. Recognizing the power of YHWH, the Midianite and the Canaanite testify to that power and act on God’s behalf. In contrast, Samson the Israelite ignores YHWH’s designated mission. Nonetheless he will accomplish God’s aims by rather uncommon means. God has chosen well. Samson’s numerous flaws are used against him when he goes to the region of the Philistines in pursuit of his sexual desires. Samson becomes the provocation, and the Philistines the object, of God’s plans to weaken them through Philistine women. The Philistine men and women Samson encounters are also pawns in the divine scheme. As Samson enters the vineyards of Timnah (as a Nazirite he would have been expected to avoid vineyards), Samson’s God-given strength is dramatically illustrated. Samson easily tears apart a ferocious lion limb from limb. The carcass of the lion will play a significant role in what follows, both as the occasion for, and solution of, a riddle. The episode and its aftermath also

Enemies in the borderlands  89 provide the opportunity to expose key dimensions of Samson’s character. Upon his return to Timnah the following year, Samson violates yet another Nazirite rule by eating honey he discovers in the carcass of the dead lion. A Nazirite must avoid contact with a carcass. God’s power protects Samson from attack but Samson abuses the gift by violating God’s injunctions without a second thought. The literal and symbolic qualities of the lion can be read in a variety of ways. The efficient killing of the lion illustrates Samson’s fearlessness in reaction to brute power. He will face such brute power soon enough from the Philistines. Perhaps the lion represents Samson. He is portrayed as a wild beast when he is provoked or denied what he desires, especially in the sexual realm. The death of a mighty beast like the lion poignantly anticipates the death of the martyr that Samson becomes by the end of his tale. Tied to the pillar in the temple of the Philistines, he seeks death because of a physical mutilation imposed upon him by the Philistines, parallel to the mutilation of a lion’s torn limb. Physical creatures and substances are noticeably littered throughout these stories. In addition to the lion there are bees, honey, foxes, fire and an ass. The physical world of nature provides more than a backdrop to Samson’s tale. It also suggests the physicality of Samson and to a far lesser degree, of the Philistines who eventually try unsuccessfully, much like the lion, to attack and destroy him. Samson will outfox Philistines on numerous occasions. The Philistines first appear as a group in Judges 14:11. Thirty men join Samson in Timnah. Samson makes a feast because “that is what young men do” (Judges 14:10). Of note is the lack of a hostile context in this first meeting. The Philistines are not described as the enemy nor do they pose a danger to Samson. Just as Jethro greeted Moses in a friendly way, so too is the atmosphere of Samson’s feast with the Philistines amicable. The friendly atmosphere is reinforced in the Hebrew term “companions,” used to describe those gathered around Samson. At the feast Samson presents a riddle to the 30 Philistines.25 Azzan Yadin argues that Samson follows Philistine protocols in the episode, illustrating Samson’s growing familiarity with Philistine customs as well as his comfort in their midst: [He] is to be married to a Philistine woman according to Philistine custom, and his challenge to the Philistine wedding-guests is based on his own profound knowledge of Philistine cultural practices and . . . traditions.26 If Yadin is correct, Samson shows more respect for Philistine customs than his own. By offering his riddle to the Philistines, Samson surprises the reader. His engagement in the verbal rather than physical realm appears out of character based on his portrait thus far. Until now Samson’s body has guided his

90  Living in the land movements (desire, attack, scooping up and tasting honey). Yet the riddle is a telling choice. Like flirtation, a riddle attracts the attention of others to the person who is telling it. Samson uses it to court the men. A desire to solve the riddle, and to learn something new, motivates the continuation of the interaction. Samson manages to hold 30 Philistine men in thrall to his riddle in spite of the rather stiff conditions he presents to them. If they solve the riddle, Samson will give them 30 pieces of fine linen and 30 sets of clothing. If they fail, they must give him the same. Thus can the riddle be considered, in T. A. Perry’s terms, “a battle of wits, and one that conceals (as it reveals) the underlying battle of peoples and cultures.”27 Without hesitation, the Philistines respond: “Pose your riddle that we may hear it” (Judges 14:13).28 This first verbal utterance of the 30 Philistine men is striking for its lack of caution. What do they know of the man? The impulse to so quickly take up a challenge, one that is a match of wits when one side appears so witless, creates a satirical portrait of the Philistines. Over three days, in spite of their collective endeavor, not one of the 30 men can solve the riddle. Samson introduces a power dynamic into what began as a benign event. His riddle threatens to humiliate those who fail such a battle of wits. He holds an unfair advantage since he knows its solution. Grossman proposes an alternative explanation for Samson’s attraction to a riddle. The riddle is an apt symbol for his hazy understanding of himself, of the secret source of his divinely given powers, and why God has chosen him to act as a savior of his people. Grossman discerns what drives Samson throughout his story: Perhaps he asks them an impossible riddle like this precisely because a man who lives his whole life with a big riddle inside – a mystery that he too cannot solve – feels a great compulsion to create puzzlement in any way possible? For after three, five, seven days like these, the riddlemaker himself turns into a riddle, into a large vessel containing a bubbling secret, straining to explode. And maybe this is what motivates Samson, and not only in this instance. He goes through life like a walking enigma, marveling over his secret, his riddle. He enjoys approaching the dangerous brink of being found out by others. Yet on second thought, the word ‘enjoys’ is inaccurate: more likely he is driven to this, compelled to confront this feeling, this bitter-tasting knowledge that he is impenetrable, that he cannot be released from his strangeness, nor from the mystery within.29 Regardless of the meaning of the riddle and the motive of the riddler, the Philistines will not tolerate the possibility of failure. In desperation they take an excessive measure, threatening to set the house of Samson’s future wife and her father on fire. In so doing they show the limits of their strategies as they resort to impulsive threats of violence rather than persuasion. In their next breath they make a well-founded economic complaint against

Enemies in the borderlands  91 the woman. “Did you call us here to impoverish us?” (Judges 14:15). They assume that the woman has already formed an alliance with the Israelites to the disadvantage of the 30 Philistine men. In a clear foreshadowing of his later relationship with Delilah, Samson informs his future wife of the riddle’s meaning because she “harassed him” (Judges 14:17). She immediately relays the answer to the Philistines. One can imagine the delight of the 30 men of Timnah when they tell Samson the solution to the riddle, especially since they wait until the very last moment, on the seventh day “before sunset” (Judges 14:18), having lulled Samson into assuming their inability to solve it. In another reference to an animal (as well as the sexual imagery much on his mind) Samson angrily proclaims, “If you hadn’t plowed with my heifer, you would not have guessed my riddle” (Judges 14:18). Riddles have in common with sexual desires the potential for a power that Samson finds pleasurable. Such power drives Samson’s wish to subdue the Philistines. The riddle has far greater consequences in its breach than the Philistines have realized. Its solution becomes a turning point in Samson’s attitude toward them. He is enraged. Samson cannot tolerate being outfoxed. He acts as a petulant loser, a fitting addition to his portrait as an overgrown and willful child. When someone of Samson’s strength has a temper tantrum, it quickly turns lethal. He kills 30 men of Ashkelon thanks to a spirit from YHWH and takes their clothes to pay off his debt to the 30 men of Timnah. The killings confirm God’s prediction that Samson’s desire for the Philistine woman will result in real damage to the Philistines. It is equally true that Samson’s behavior offers the Philistines a pretext against him. The rapidity in which a celebratory wedding party turns into a violent encounter illustrates Samson’s volatility as well as a naïve attitude toward him by the ill-informed Philistines of Timnah. As events unfold it becomes quite clear that they literally do not know with whom they are dealing. On the other hand, the violence is reciprocal. Stymied by the riddle, the Philistines react brutally. They are more like Samson than not with one difference. At this point they only threaten. Samson kills without warning. One can imagine the stupefaction of the Philistines when they learn of the deaths of 30 of their people in Ashkelon. Considerable ill will has been created in this first story of Samson and the Philistines. If the reader had not been informed of God’s role, it would be reasonable to conclude that Samson turned the Philistines into enemies simply to indulge his hurt pride. But we know that God has set their interaction in motion. Samson and the Philistines are acting and reacting with little awareness of the manipulations and motives of a force unknown to either. At chapter’s end, Samson retreats to the home of his father.

Samson and his Philistine ‘companions’ The situation continues to deteriorate upon Samson’s return to Timnah in the wheat season, a detail that provides the opportunity for Samson’s

92  Living in the land revenge. He expects to sleep with the woman he assumes will be his wife only to discover that she has been given to another man, one of the companions in Judges 14:11. Tracing ‘companion’ in other parts of the Bible reveals an interesting ambiguity in its usage. “Companion” appears in Genesis 26:26 in the story of Isaac and the Philistines analyzed above. Not coincidentally, both stories examine a relationship between an Israelite, Isaac or Samson and Philistines. In Genesis 26:26 Avimelech, king of the Philistines, meets Isaac to negotiate a conflict over wells accompanied by his ‘companion’ (translated here as ‘counselor’) Ahuzzath and his chief of army Phicol. The term appears to be neutral in verse 26 except that the counselor is paired with the chief of the army, who presents a tangible threat if the negotiations do not go well. Isaac senses the potential hostility when he faces the trio and refers to the Philistine “hatred” of him. In the end, the negotiation is successful. A treaty has been reaffirmed. The term resurfaces in our story in Judges 14:11 and again in 14:20, 15:2 and 15:6. In the latter three references, the companion is understood to be a competitor with Samson because he marries the woman whom Samson thinks he has secured for himself. That fact leads to an escalation in the violence between the two sides. In 2 Samuel 3:8 “companions” are listed as a group of supporters around Saul that also includes his brothers. They are positively presented as allies of Saul. In Proverbs 19:7 the “companions” are again paired with brothers, but this time as a group that shun a poor man, bringing criticism upon themselves. Taken as a whole, the term possesses both positive and negative connotations. A companion may be an ally or a threat, making the noun particularly apt in describing the Philistines who interact with Samson. Initially presented as allies and friends, the Philistines become Samson’s enemies. As Grossman points out, the Hebrew term contains a clue to its more ominous meaning: “The narrator does not say who these companions are, but it is fairly obvious that a man like Samson has no friends, not even at his wedding, but rather mere’im (the very sound of which, implying the Hebrew word ra – evil – does not bode well).”30 In Judges 15 the Philistine woman’s father has the unfortunate task of explaining to Samson why she is no longer available to him. Her father justifies the situation with a logical deduction. In light of the woman’s betrayal of Samson by giving the Philistines the riddle’s solution, her father assumed that Samson would no longer desire her. Furthermore, Samson left the banquet before consummating the marriage. The father’s inferences are faulty. The woman’s act of betrayal is less important to Samson than his continued desire for her. By offering her younger sister to Samson, though to no avail, the Philistine father joins a familiar list of biblical men who routinely use women as commodities of exchange between men. Whether they are Philistine men or Israelite, the exploitation is the same.

Enemies in the borderlands  93 Samson ominously announces, “I am clear this time against the Philistines when I do them evil” (Judges 15:3). The statement is interesting in its suggestion that Samson sees himself ‘clear’ of blame ‘this time.’ Apparently Samson understands that his actions last time were indefensible. Nonetheless, like last time, Samson responds to being stymied with violence. In so doing, he exchanges sexual desire for rage and destruction. Samson catches and ties the tails of 300 foxes together while placing burning torches between them. Fire is a destructive force as well as a symbol of sexual passion.31 Its recurring use in these tales of Samson is telling. The foxes run wild among the fields of the Philistines and burn the wheat, vineyards and olive trees. The number of foxes, 300, a power of 30 times 10, reminds the reader of the 30 items of clothing, the 30 men who had earlier feasted with and beat Samson at his own game, and the 30 Philistines he killed in the prior season. A fire that indiscriminately burns everything in its path, including precious resources and valuable foodstuffs (wheat, grapes, olive trees) is shocking in its expression of waste. The Philistines retaliate by burning the woman and her father. Woe to the family who gets entangled with Samson.

A cycle of violent retribution Samson’s reaction suggests his view of the matter as he places the full blame of the escalating violence on the Philistines. And Samson said to them, “If you do this then I will revenge myself and only then will I cease.” He struck them a great blow, hip on thigh, and went down, and stayed in the cave of the rock of Etam.32 Judges 15:7–8 The attribution of blame rings hollow. The narrator has given the reader enough information to reach the conclusion that both Samson and his Philistine adversaries have acted brutally. Both sides have escalated the tensions into a cycle of violence that will worsen if not stopped. It becomes increasingly obvious that Samson and the Philistines are mirror images of one another. Samson is Philistine-like and they are Samson-like. Tensions have escalated enough to spread to the tribe of Judah, who are definitely not Samson-like. He is from a different tribe, that of Dan, and the allegiances between Dan and Judah, or at least between the men of Judah and Samson, appear weak. They also hold radically different approaches to confrontation with Philistines. After arriving in their territory, the Philistines explain to the men of Judah that they intend to pursue and take Samson prisoner, “to do to him what he did to us” (Judges 15:10). A cycle of retribution and revenge has been set in motion. In consequence, without hesitation 3,000 men of Judah (in another multiple of 10: 300 times 10) confront Samson in a rather telling

94  Living in the land exchange: “ ‘. . . Didn’t you know that the Philistines rule us and what is this you have done to us?’ and he replied to them, ‘Just as they did to me so did I do to them’ ” (Judges 15:11b–12). The echo of the Philistine phrase in the words of Samson further reinforce the mirror image that Samson and the Philistines have become to one another in a cycle of recrimination and revenge. But the men of Judah have no interest in getting involved. They explain to him that they have no choice but to hand him over to the Philistines. In Judges 15:12 Samson demands: “Swear to me lest you yourselves attack me.” Samson’s mistrust of his own people, even if from a different tribe, is evident in his brief request that they not harm him. They reassure him, bind him and hand him over to the Philistines, who shout upon seeing him in his humbled state. The behavior of the men of Judah contributes another option for Israelites and Philistines. Isaac and Avimelech come to a mutually beneficial agreement. Samson and the Philistines engage in unceasing conflict. In between those two choices, the men of Judah seek to live in an undisturbed state under Philistine rule. This last option is untenable to God. The Philistines are so delighted when the quarry comes into view that they fail to proceed with caution. Disregarding prior experience with Samson, they come too close to him. In the grip of the divine spirit, Samson’s bonds become flax-like and catch fire. He kills 1,000 Philistines with the jawbone of an ass. His competent and ruthless ability to use whatever comes to hand foreshadows his improvised slaughter of the Philistines in Judges 16. In the present case, Samson reverts to poetic form: With the jaw of an ass, Mound upon mound With the jaw of an ass I have struck down a thousand men Judges 15:16 Samson’s use of elevated linguistic forms (the riddle in Judges 14:14; his angry poetic retort in 14:18; the poem of 15:16) sets up an interesting contrast to his sheer physicality as a force of nature. Riddles and poetry also mark Samson as a figure set apart since he rarely speaks in informal, intimate language with others. The episode ends in Judges 15:20 with a notice that Samson rules Israel uneventfully for 20 years.

Desire and deceit Samson’s story nears its end in Judges 16. The chapter’s opening is eerily predictable: “And Samson went to Gaza and saw there a woman, a harlot, and went into her” (Judges 16:1). If Samson was ruler in Israel in the days of the Philistines, he was a ruler who not only tolerated their continuing presence in close proximity, but continued to indulge his desires for Philistine women.

Enemies in the borderlands  95 The verse is a direct echo of Samson’s first independent action two chapters earlier when, as a young man, he saw a Philistine woman and demanded his parents acquire her for him. He no longer needs his parents’ permission. There will be no delay. He goes in to her. Sex in this scene is stripped of any expectation of affection or loyalty on either side. Her designation as a harlot makes explicit the way in which women are narrowly characterized in Samson’s stories as sexual objects (except for Samson’s mother). Samson’s visit to the harlot, a mere three verses, contains several elements that will be developed at length in what follows between Samson and Delilah. Samson is in a place that is unsafe due to his desire for a woman. The Philistines think that they can ambush him but he evades them yet again. The final image of him in the scene, as he escapes by tearing apart a gate and resting its posts upon his shoulders, anticipates the manner of his death along with the Philistines in Judges 16:25–29. This brief episode illuminates a pattern in Samson’s behavior. Three times, with three different women, Samson places himself in a situation that inevitably leads to danger. Such repetition illustrates a compulsion to engage in self-destructive behavior. Samson’s compulsive desire and his attraction to danger reach their apex when he meets Delilah. We learn rather abruptly that Samson is now in the bed of yet another woman: And after that he loved a woman in Wadi Sorek, and her name was Delilah. And the lords of the Philistines went up to her and they said to her, “Entice him and see in what lies his great strength and by what means we can prevail over him and tie him up to humiliate him and each of us will give you 1100 [pieces of] silver.” And Delilah said to Samson, “Tell me please in what lies your great strength and by what means can you be tied up to humiliate you?” Judges 16:4–6 Samson’s interaction with Delilah concisely captures the entire storyline of his entanglement with the Philistines. It is not clear if the woman is a Philistine or an Israelite but like the women he has chosen before her, Delilah betrays Samson by leading the Philistines to him. Samson is informed of this likelihood by the woman herself. As a signal of her lethal importance in Samson’s life, and unlike the other two women, this woman has a name, Delilah. The events of chapter 16 highlight Samson’s obsessive behavior not only toward women but also toward the Philistines. He returns to territory that becomes increasingly dangerous for him. By remaining in such close proximity to the Philistines he acts against his self-interest. Yet something about his experiences leads him to replicate the situation again and again. Perhaps the Philistines trigger a feeling of deep delight, power and mastery in Samson since each time they think they can capture him he outwits them and escapes. If so, he unknowingly re-enacts his attempts to escape from God’s

96  Living in the land mission for him. Yet, just as the Philistines underestimated Samson in the past, he finally underestimates them. At this stage in their ongoing conflict, the Philistines have come, at least partially, to understand Samson. They can rely on his presumably insatiable desire for women, Philistine or otherwise, clearly his ‘blind spot’ (pun intended), with great confidence. This time Samson’s desire is coupled with love: “He fell in love with a woman in Wadi Sorek and her name was Delilah” (Judges 16:4b). From the Philistines’ point of view love is a welcome emotion. Against common sense and past experience love turns Samson vulnerable enough to let his guard down and finally be captured. Yet Samson retains a confidence that no matter what, he will prevail over the Philistines as he did in the past. Samson’s assumption fails to take into account not only greater Philistine knowledge of him, but also God’s plans for him. God intends him to be captured. In fact, Samson’s confidence in his powers further enflames the Philistines’ hatred and determination to continue pursuing him. Note that their goal as stated in these verses is not to kill Samson but to ‘humiliate’ him. That motive can be traced back to the initial riddle Samson presented his Philistine companions so long ago at his feast which exposed their humiliating inability to solve it. Such humiliation led them to threaten Samson’s future wife, setting the cycle of recrimination and revenge into motion. Delilah uses the language of the Philistines from 16:5 almost word for word in the main question that she asks of Samson in 16:6: “Tell me please in what lies your great strength and by what means can you be tied up to humiliate you?” By means of such repetition the writer allows us to see how easily Delilah joins the Philistines. The offer of money, and Delilah’s apparent willingness to accept the terms by immediately implementing the plan in verse 6, manages to create some sympathy for Samson. That his love is answered with calculation and self-interest shows Samson in a new light. He may be a fool but as such shows himself to be frail and weak rather than the indestructible strongman we have seen thus far. Three times Delilah tries to force Samson to divulge the secret of his strength and three times he offers her false information. By the end of the first incident Samson must realize that Delilah is not to be trusted. But twice more he follows through with the charade. His willingness to be tricked each time produces a physical challenge (tied up, bound, pinned down) that he can easily overcome, thereby proving at least to himself that he remains invincible. Note too that he silently accepts Delilah’s rebuke of him for giving her false information instead of defending himself against her accusations. Sex, deception, disappointment and escape are the crucial facets of the intimate situation that Samson appears most compelled by since he repeatedly recreates those same conditions. Taken together, female and male Philistines represent both an attraction to which Samson succumbs and a threat that he repeatedly overcomes. These strangers allow him to compulsively work through his own troubled

Enemies in the borderlands  97 past. Perhaps Samson succumbs in situations that involve women who let him down because in an odd way being let down by others reassures him. He let his parents and God down repeatedly in the earlier story both in his violations of the Nazirite regulations and in his pursuit of Philistine women. He is now punished for his earlier lapses. Samson’s story also works on the level of sexual fantasy. An Israelite man can sleep with strange or dangerous women (in Delilah’s case, a woman willing to betray him without a thought) and escape the consequences. Such a man can even fulfill God’s wishes by sleeping with the women, thereby creating the opportunity to punish and get rid of Philistine men. This is the inverse of the more dominant pattern in biblical narratives. Elsewhere sleeping with strange women leads to joining their people. Here Samson’s relationships result in his estrangement from the Philistines. The story works on a collective level as a national fantasy. A male Israelite audience can be entertained with the escapades of a strong man who sleeps with a strange woman, is fooled and betrayed by her, and yet who ultimately outfoxes her by escaping (even if in death), killing the enemy, and celebrated as a hero in Israel! Just as Samson finally succumbed to the persistent demands of the first Philistine woman and told her his riddle (14:16), so now he succumbs to Delilah due to the same reason and in the same language (16:16). He reveals the source of his power, acknowledges his ability to lose it, and simply concludes: “and I shall be like all human beings” (16:17). Resentment at his difference from others might explain Samson’s careless disregard of those obligations imposed on him at birth that make him different. Ignoring Nazirite regulations momentarily allows him to forget that status along with God’s demands of him. The image of a sleeping Samson, portrayed as a trusting infant on Delilah’s lap as his locks are cut off, brilliantly captures the vulnerable and exhausted man like all others that Samson has never been but is about to become. Samson’s exhaustion might also derive from a more psychological source: his desire for a woman who inevitably lets him down. This time his strength does not prevail. And she said, “The Philistines are upon you Samson” and he woke from his sleep and said, “I will exit this time like the other times and shake [it] off” because he did not know that YHWH had turned away from him. Judges 16:20 So ends Samson’s love affair. We do not hear of Delilah again. Samson’s struggle between two paths, to be an ordinary human being or to enact the destiny thrust upon him as a hero of the Israelites, has led him to this moment of capture and humiliation. The Philistines do not kill him but draw attention to his ‘blind spot’ for unsuitable women, and even highlight that weakness by gouging out both his eyes. They want to beat this man who delights in puns at his own game. Yet Samson’s hair will grow back and so too will his powers.

98  Living in the land

The temple of Dagon In their final confrontation with him, the Philistines continue to underestimate Samson’s powers. In so doing, they also underestimate YHWH. The Philistine failure to understand that in the end Samson, acting as God’s agent, will prevail against them serves to reassure an Israelite audience. Samson’s ending allows YHWH to publicly and decisively defeat Dagon, the god of the Philistines. One can imagine with what pleasure the Israelite narrator sets up the final scene and the climatic moment of Samson’s life. The Philistines are described as they offer sacrifices to Dagon and gloat over Samson’s capture. Yet even here a note of ambiguity can be detected, best captured in the poetry of the captors: “. . . Our god has given into our hands Samson our enemy.” And when the people saw him they praised their god, and said: “Our god has given into our hands Our enemy, the one who devastated our lands And who slew so many of us.” Judges 16:23b–2433 In biblical narrative it is exceedingly rare, though not unheard of, to be privy to the enemy’s view of the situation. In the present case, the poem’s simplicity and clarity in indicting Samson for his actions against the Philistines invites Israelites to pause and consider. What might their reactions be if they were the ones ravaged by an enemy who destroyed their lands and great numbers of their people? Yet a more satisfying, though ironic, note colors that ambiguity. Dagon will not save the Philistines from the disaster that is about to befall them. In what follows the writer allows the reader to exult rather than consider uncomfortable comparisons between the two peoples. Samson, blinded in both eyes, is forced to dance in front of the Philistines to humiliate him. The situation creates an opportunity for Samson to yet again exploit whatever is at hand to wreak massive destruction as he has done in the past. Remember that Samson used foxes to burn Philistine fields, ropes he could easily shed in a surprise counter-attack as he was led out to the Philistines, and the jawbone of an ass to slay thousands. This time, in spite of the chains and his blindness, Samson will use the pillars of the Philistine temple as his weapon. The narrator dryly informs us that the Philistine temple is overflowing not only with Philistine men but women. The details are quite explicit: “And the temple was full of men and of women and all the lords of the Philistines were there and on the roof three thousand men and women watching Samson dance” (Judges 16:27). From 30 to 300 to 3,000, Samson continues to inflict his revenge on ever-greater numbers of potential victims. Women are included along with the men. It was Samson’s inexorable desire for Philistine

Enemies in the borderlands  99 women that led him to that moment, though through no fault of their own. Nonetheless, they too are targeted. Not surprisingly, since we are not dealing with an ordinary hero of Israel, but with Samson, the moment of national revenge is driven by self-interest even while, unknown to Samson, such revenge serves the divine plan. Samson asks God for the strength to revenge himself, rather than his people, from whom he so long felt alienated. He wants to kill Philistines because they blinded him. Just as Delilah (and the men of Judah) had motives that ignored Samson’s interests, at this moment Samson’s motive has little to do with God’s interest in saving Israel. Israelites do not enter into Samson’s thinking. And Samson called to YHWH and said, “My Lord YHWH remember me, and strengthen me so that this time Oh God, I can certainly take revenge for even one of my two eyes against the Philistines” and Samson grasped the two pillars in the middle which the Temple rested upon and leaned against them, one to the right and one to the left and Samson said, “Let my soul die with the Philistines.” Judges 16:28–30a Famous as this scene may be, that last cry is often overlooked. But in the context of Samson’s entire life, its significance should be clear. Samson’s birth is divinely initiated to produce a savior against the Philistines. His life is completely taken over by the Philistines as he obsessively and repeatedly places himself in proximity to them in a macabre dance of desire and danger. Now, at the moment of his death, Samson is physically one with them as the temple collapses upon them all. This does not last. In the final verse of his story Samson is returned to his father’s tomb between Zorah and Eshtaol where he will be buried. In death Samson is finally separated from the Philistines and among his own people.

Samson, God and the Philistines Samson’s story could not be told without his ongoing entanglements with the Philistines. Nor could that of God as the ultimate savior of the people Israel from the Philistines. We also have a much richer portrait of the Philistines thanks to the role they play in Samson’s life and God’s plans. Samson is an anti-hero, a person who repeatedly acts in self-interest rather than for a greater cause. From the women he chooses against his parents’ wishes, to the repeated violations of the Nazirite regulations in which he is meant to live, until the motive for his suicidal act, revenge, Samson has acted on his own behalf, driven by his own desires. Those desires include a wish to know the Philistine men and to best them. He little cares about the damages he has caused them in his many crossings into Philistine territory. He also shows little concern for the Israelites, who he is meant to save and

100  Living in the land to rule. They are absent from the story except for a brief appearance by a tribe that couldn’t hand him over quickly enough to his enemies. Nor does Samson seem overly concerned to fulfill God’s ambitions. He can hardly be considered an ideal ‘man of God.’ And yet Samson accomplishes the goals set out for him by God and in so doing becomes a hero in Israel. Samson’s time in the Philistine borderlands provides a rich biblical case study for the influence of strangers on the development of individual identity. Repeatedly seeking something that his own people cannot provide him and never staying still, Samson does not settle in any one place or community. At times Samson embraces Philistine customs. At other times, he violently extracts himself from contact. Mostly he remains an outsider both to the Philistines and his own people. Samson’s very marginality contributes to his destruction. Francis Landy sums up his status beautifully: Samson is a ‘marginal’ person, caught and moving ceaselessly between two worlds, and belonging to neither. He is symbolically marked as a marginal person by his extraordinary strength, by his Nazirite status, that makes him into a wild, Dionysiac figure, a personification of intoxication who cannot drink wine, and by the social vacuum that surrounds him. But he is also that which communicates between worlds, Israelite and Philistine, and is destroyed in the process.34 In that destruction, Samson is God’s pawn. The implication is troubling. God preys on Samson’s voracious sexual appetites, his urgent quest to belong somewhere or with someone, and his need to figure out the riddle of his life. God seizes the opportunity presented by Samson’s flaws to destroy the more powerful Philistines, who rule over the people Israel and present a threat due to military superiority, the attractions of their god Dagon, and even their way of life. Yet Samson will only succeed in temporarily stopping the Philistines. They continue to threaten Israel in the time of the early kings, Saul and David. YHWH is characterized as a manipulative divinity who requires Samson’s death to implement divine plans. Samson’s life is of less importance to God than his death. It is in death that Samson kills more Philistines and proves that God, not Dagon, is the ultimate divine power. Such a portrait of God in the book of Judges is not surprising. Judges is a work that takes a dour, skeptical, humorous or even jaded look at the infidelities and idolatries of leaders and their people, regardless of ethnicity: Israelite (Avimelech son of Jerubbaal, Yiftach the Gileadite, Samson), Moabite (Ehud) and Canaanite (Sisera). Its humor contains a good deal of scathing critique. A portrait of God’s cynical and heartless exploitation of a flawed Israelite for divine purposes is of a piece with such a series. The Philistines represent a paradigm of biblical strangers. They live apart in their own towns and territory, are uncircumcised, worship a god other than YHWH, and are generally portrayed negatively, prone to outbursts of

Enemies in the borderlands  101 violence and aggression.35 Philistine women reinforce the anxieties of the biblical writers because they become objects of Israelite male fascination and desire. Philistines are also subject to derision in their struggles to solve Samson’s riddle and in their inability to capture him. While they correctly identify the desires that often cloud Samson’s judgment, they do not have enough information to fully appreciate the extent of the danger he presents. This portrait of Philistine rulers being repeatedly outfoxed and tricked by the likes of Samson diminishes and ultimately robs them of their reputation as fierce enemies. They become material for a parody of bumbling soldiers of war who dramatically fail at destroying even one of their enemies. As their passion to hunt and capture Samson grows, so does the reader’s pleasure in watching them fail at that task. They also fail to recognize the superiority of YHWH over Dagon. In consequence, each act of Samson’s violence “reaches deeper and deeper into the Philistines’ settled existence, from fields to gate to temple, progressively undoing the civic and religious order they have imposed on the countryside.”36 Philistines are denied subjectivity in these tales. They are used to confirm Israelite and divine superiority, militarily and religiously if not economically. Yet such a negative and narrow portrait of the Philistines fails to capture their biblical characterization in its entirety. A more nuanced and sympathetic case for them can also be found in Judges. Perhaps an explanation of that more complex view of the Philistines can be found in the archeological record. The Philistines are not as their biblical stereotypes portray them. As argued by Trude Dothan and Robert Cohn, “With its strong economic base and rich culture, able to absorb elements of Canaanite culture while retaining its own distinctiveness, Philistia represented an ongoing challenge to Israelite culture.”37 The great attractiveness of the Philistines to the Israelites who live just across a narrow divide drives the negative and defensive portrait of them, at least partially. But their attractiveness also drives a more positive and sympathetic, though subtle, response to them in Judges. Philistine territory is described in more appealing detail than that of Samson’s region. We learn of their vineyards and their wheat fields, piles of grain and olive trees. One may come upon and admire wild foxes and lions. In describing the produce and animals of the land, the narrator induces a sense of shock and even regret in an audience who reads of the terror and pain induced in the foxes as they frantically turn this way and that while fields and produce burn to the ground. The Philistine desire for economic prosperity, the preservation of lives, and the productivity of land are recognizable hopes that would resonate in another people similarly situated. Even the frantic attempt of the Philistine ‘companions’ to solve Samson’s riddle, and their failure in doing so, allows for a certain amount of sympathy in the midst of derision. Who among us hasn’t been stumped at one time or another by a boastful and annoying opponent? Remember too that at the start of Samson’s descent into the land of the Philistines the setting is benign and the Philistines are welcoming. It is Samson’s presence in the land that

102  Living in the land results in images of murdered Philistines and burning fields. Samson wreaks the greater destruction both in lives and in land. Yet Samson isn’t even their greatest threat. The Philistines never realize who is behind Samson’s trail of destruction. They repeatedly fail to judge their opponent because they never solve the ultimate riddle that is YHWH. For it is with YHWH that they are dealing rather than Samson. They go to their deaths in ignorance of that fact. Acting in the dark, they don’t stand a chance. Seen in that light, this portrait of an enemy subject to God’s manipulation and superior power engenders a degree of sympathy. In their exploitation by God Philistine men are not so different than Samson. There are other striking parallels between them. Especially in their rash actions and over-reliance on violence, Samson and the Philistines behave in similar fashion. They share an obsession with one another, thereby creating a mutually reinforcing cycle of violence. Samson can’t leave their territory alone nor can the Philistines rest until they stop him. This fuller and more empathetic portrait of the Philistines in Judges offers an alternative to ongoing conflict between the two peoples. Harsh competition is certainly not in either side’s best interests. Violence is not inevitable. Sharing a common border, might the two peoples discover alternatives to the cycle of violence? “Boundaries can give rise to competition, leading to conflict . . . or can become the opportunity for fruitful exchange and mutual advantage. . . .”38 Might that argument hold true in the present case? After all, the portrait of the Philistines in Genesis provides a counter-narrative, leaving open the possibility of coexistence, and a successful treaty based on mutual benefit. In other words, a more productive alternative already exists within biblical traditions. Taken as a whole the story of Samson and the Philistines contributes to the search for alternatives to violence present in prior chapters of this present work. Strangers are a threat, especially those close at hand such as the Canaanites and the Philistines. Yet in the end we can’t beat them (the Anakites), we recognize that they have something to offer us (mutual and beneficial interest such as that illustrated in Isaac’s story), and we may empathize with them (perhaps the present case). Any of these reasons might argue for coexistence rather than perpetual conflict. Samson and the Philistines also offer Israel a mirror of its darker side, thereby becoming a means of collective critique. The story that immediately follows that of Samson in Judges 17–18 argues that the Israelites are as ruthless as the Philistines. They become the aggressors against a peaceful and unsuspecting local people. The Philistines play no role in the events. The Israelites should at least fear themselves as much as an external enemy such as the Philistines.

Epilogue The story found in Judges 17–18 is associated with that of Samson. A woman accepts 1,100 pieces of silver from her son Micah only to immediately return

Enemies in the borderlands  103 it to him to make a molten image. The pieces of silver are exactly the same in number as the pieces given to Delilah in Judges 16:5 and 18 by the Philistines to betray Samson. In the present case an Israelite woman betrays YHWH by commissioning a sculptured image and a molten image in a house in which a priest officiates. A strict prohibition against false gods that operates in other sections of Judges, such as in chapter 2, is ignored in this episode. The scene shifts to men from the tribe of Dan, the tribe to which Samson belongs. They are temporarily located precisely where Samson was born and buried between Zorah and Eshtaol (Judges 18:2). Seeking to relocate, they scout out the area of Laish. Their description of the local people is significant. The inhabitants of Laish live in a quiet town, molested by no one, with a sense of security (Judges 18:7). Their isolation protects them. Yet such a peaceful and isolated life leaves them utterly defenseless, a fact shrewdly observed by the men of Dan. Their lives are about to change. In Judges 18:17, as they prepare to conquer Laish, the men of Dan force the priest from Micah’s house to accompany them along with the sculptured image, an ephod, teraphim and the molten image. The Danites attack “a people quiet and secure and struck them according to the sword and burnt the city in fire” (Judges 18:27). In repeating the initial description of the inhabitants of Laish as a people quiet and secure, the writer draws our attention to their vulnerability and to the sense of violation wreaked upon this people who did not provoke nor initiate any battle. The aggressors are from the tribe of Samson. A town ablaze provides the evidence of Samson’s long shadow. Images of burning fields and homes repeatedly served as a backdrop to Samson’s escapades. This time, it is not the militant Philistines being destroyed at the hands of Samson but the harmless people of Laish by members of his tribe. One story follows another and in so doing paints the Philistines and the Danites with the same brutal brush. They are not so different from one another. The narratives considered in Judges provide an inner biblical reflection on the uses of violence to achieve one’s ends accompanied by a significant amount of self-critique. To further bolster such a reading, consider that the remainder of Judges is taken up not with battles against an enemy outside of Israel, but within its own tribes. Soon after the events just described, the people Israel are engaged in a bitter and brutal civil war with the tribe of Benjamin. Sometimes the enemy lies within. In the remainder of Judges the Philistines are uninvolved and on the margins. But they famously re-emerge to play a significant role in the establishment of the monarchy and its first two kings, Saul and David, in the books of Samuel. It is to those continuing tales of Philistines that we now turn.

Notes 1 Ronald Hendel, Remembering Abraham Culture, Memory, and History in the Hebrew Bible (Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press, 2005), 20. 2 In a November 6, 2014 symposium at the Metropolitan Museum of New York in a paper titled “The World of the Philistines and Other ‘Sea Peoples,’ ” Ann E.

104  Living in the land Killbrew challenged the notion of the Philistines as marauding sea peoples. The Philistines came to the coastal areas to colonize and expand their successful way of life, and did so over a protracted period of time. They were entrepreneurs, not bandits.   Jonathan N. Tubb, “Sea Peoples and Philistines,” in Assyria to Iberia at the Dawn of the Classical Age, eds. Joan Aruz, Sarah B. Graff and Yelena Rakic (New Haven, London: Yale University Press, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, NY, 2014), 41 describes the Philistine relationship to Israelites: With the establishment of the Israelite monarchy in the ninth century B.C., Philistine territorial ambitions were held in check and were more or less confined to the region of Philistia as presented in the Bible – that is, containing the so-called pentapolis as well as smaller, semiautonomous centers such as Ziklag . . . Philistia maintained its independence, however, and continued to assert its autonomy throughout the following period, when Israel was destroyed by Assyria and the kingdom of Judah flourished. Lukasz Niesiolowski-Spano, Goliath’s Legacy Philistines and Hebrews in Biblical Times, trans. Maria Kantor (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2016), 38 provides an informative and useful history of the Philistines from approximately 1150–950 BCE as well as the expansion of Philistine culture until around 640 BCE, 253. 3 Lawrence Stager, “Biblical Philistines: A Hellenistic Literary Creation,” in ‘I Will Speak the Riddles of Ancient Times’, Archaeological and Historical Studies in Honor of Amihai Mazar v. 1, eds. Aren Maeir and Pierre De Miroschedji (Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 2006), 376. 4 David Jobling and Catherine Rose, “Reading as a Philistine: The Ancient and Modern History of a Cultural Slur,” in Ethnicity and the Bible, ed. Mark Brett (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2002), 404. 5 Joel Baden, The Historical David: The Real Life of an Invented Hero (New York: Harper One, 2013), 56. 6 I share Steven Weitzman’s assumption in his essay, “The Samson Story as Border Fiction,” Biblical Interpretation 10, 2 (2002): 159 that it is worthwhile to examine “the role of storytelling in sustaining the border between the Kingdom of Judah and the Philistines in the ‘borderlands.’ ” 7 Jobling and Rose, “Reading as a Philistine,” 382. 8 Carl S. Ehrlich, “Philistines,” in The Oxford Companion to the Bible, eds. Bruce Metzger and Michael Coogan (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), 591–592. 9 Nahum Sarna, The JPS Torah Commentary Genesis (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1989), 183, n. 1, points out that the Avimelech in Isaac’s story could hardly be the same figure as that in Abraham’s story. Using the same name for the figure of the king in the second story reminds the reader of the positive characterization of the earlier Avimelech. 10 For the parallels, and especially the significant differences, in the wife-sister tales of Abraham and of Isaac, see Robert Alter, Genesis (New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 1996), 52, n. 10; 92, n. 1; 131. 11 Translation of verses 13–14 is that of Everett Fox, The Five Books of Moses (New York: Schocken Books, 1995). 12 I discuss Tyre in chapter 6 of the present work and Aram in chapter 7. 13 See Niesiolowski-Spano, Goliath’s Legacy, 26–27 for a more detailed survey of the references to the Philistines in the Hebrew Bible. 14 On this point see Robert Alter, Ancient Israel (New York: W. W. Norton and Company, 2013), 175, n. 7.

Enemies in the borderlands  105 15 Niesiolowski-Spano, Goliath’s Legacy, 77 argues that the tribe of Dan is likely: of Greek origin (tnj=Danaoi) that settled in Cilicia (Dnnim) and in Palestine (Danuna=Dan) . . . one can assume that the tribe of Dan, before it joined with the Hebrews, had appeared in Palestine together with other Sea Peoples. If the tribe of Dan originated in the Sea Peoples, some of the details of Samson’s story, beginning with his preference for living in Philistine lands, makes sense. From a literary and redacted point of view, Samson’s story remains firmly within the Hebrew Bible’s stories of Israelites and Philistines. 16 As reconstructed on a map in Etz Hayim (New York: The Jewish Publication Society, 2001), 1514. 17 Tappy “Tel Zayit and the Tel Zayit Abecedary in Their Regional Context,” 16. 18 Weitzman,“The Samson Story as Border Fiction,” 160. 19 Ibid., 164. 20 David Grossman, Lion’s Honey, trans. Stuart Schoffman (Edinburgh, New York, Melbourne: Canongate, 2006), 2. Grossman has written a stunning interpretation of Samson’s birth story and his subsequent life as a ‘hero’ in Israel. 21 T. A. Perry, God’s Twilight Zone (Peabody: Hendrickson Publishers, 2008), 54, n. 5. 22 As suggested to me by Yedidah Koren in a personal communication. 23 The Hebrew word translated as “pretext” is quite rare in the Hebrew Bible, appearing only twice, in this passage and in Jeremiah 2:24. Based on its context, the BDB suggests that in Samson’s case, it means ‘grounds for a quarrel.’ In Jeremiah’s case it suggests the ‘passion’ of a wild ass to copulate! Both meanings are remarkably apt in Samson’s case. God uses Samson’s sexual drive against him and the Philistines. The New Brown Driver Briggs Gesenius (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publsihers, 1979), 58. 24 Grossman, Lion’s Honey, 40. 25 Azzan Yadin, “Samson’s HIDA,” Vetus Testamentum LII, 3 (2002): 426 argues that the hida is similar to Greek ‘capping songs’ sung at weddings. His reading assumes the familiarity of the biblical writer with the Philistine context, an interest which parallels that of Samson, who the writer places for a great deal of his adult life in Philistine territory. Weitzman, “The Samson Story as Border Fiction,” 166, n. 20 explores the use of the riddle in other Mediterranean cultures, especially in frontier regions. 26 Yadin, “Samson’s HIDA,” 426. He claims that the marriage customs described in Judge 14 are standard Greek practice, 416. 27 Perry, God’s Twilight Zone, 55. 28 Alter’s translation, Ancient Israel, 181. 29 Grossman, Lion’s Honey, 68–69. 30 Ibid., 65. 31 Ellen Handler Spitz, “Promethean Positions,” in Freud and Forbidden Knowledge, eds. Peter L. Rudnytsky and Ellen Handler Spitz (New York, London: New York University Press, 1994), 29 discusses Freud’s essay, “The Acquisition and Control of Fire,” from 1932: “Taking flames as symbolic of the alternately rising and collapsing phallus, he interprets the Promethean fire, by extension, as signifying the unquenchability of human sexual desire.” 32 “Hip on thigh” is Alter’s translation, Ancient Israel, 185, n. 8. 33 The last word in each of the five verses rhymes in Hebrew. The final phrase’s translation is that of JPS. 34 Francis Landy, “Are We in the Place of Averroes? Response to the Articles of Exum and Whedbee, Buss, Gottwald, and Good,” Semeia 32 (1984): 131–148 [140]. 35 There is a gap between the archeological record and the biblical portrayal of the Philistines. As described by Trude Dothan and Robert L. Cohn, “The Philistine as Other,” in The Other in Jewish Thought and History Constructions of Jewish

106  Living in the land Culture and Identity, eds. Laurence J. Silberstein and Robert L. Cohn (New York: New York University Press 1994), 71: “They were accomplished architects and builders, highly artistic pottery makers, textile manufacturers, dyers, metalworkers, silver smelters, farmers, soldiers and sophisticated urban planners.” 36 Weitzman,“The Samson Story as Border Fiction,” 170. 37 Dothan and Cohn, “The Philistine as Other,” 72. 38 Sarah Diamant, “Group Identity in the Hebrew Bible: Moab as a Case of Israelite Self-Identity” (PhD diss., Jewish Theological Seminary, 2008), 176.

5 Warriors and kings

After a series of stories in the final chapters of Judges in which the Israelites are preoccupied with internal conflicts, the Philistines abruptly return in the early chapters of 1 Samuel: “And Israel went out to meet the Philistines in war and they camped near Eben-Ezer and the Philistines camped at Aphek” (1 Sam 4:1). The re-emergence of the Philistines confirms that while Samson had begun to save Israel from their hand, he was unable to destroy them entirely. Tensions between Philistines and Israelites have since escalated. Philistines are now waging a war, not just with one man, Samson, but against the entire people Israel. The Philistine presence along the coastal region during the time that Israelites established themselves in the highlands has been established historically. Philistines function literarily much as the strangers examined in prior chapters: Midianites, Canaanites and their Philistine predecessors in Judges. They are the primary ‘other’ in the books of 1 and 2 Samuel as Israelites shift their allegiances from their clans and tribes and become a unified people. Stories of the Philistines allow the biblical writers to depict the superiority of the Israelite army over that of the Philistines as well as the power and reach of YHWH versus the Philistine god – two sources of shared pride for the Israelites. The proximity of the Philistines also demands effective Israelite leadership, and in the books of Samuel, the search for an appropriate leader takes several remarkable twists and turns. God replaces the priest Eli and his corrupt sons with the prophet Samuel, but the Israelites have ideas of their own. Weary of waging war against their enemies without a standing army, the Israelites call upon God to appoint “a king over us so that we can be like all the nations: and let our king govern us and go out before us and fight our wars” (1 Sam 8:19b–20).1 Confrontations with Philistines become the stage upon which different sorts of leaders who would be king, and different dimensions of leadership are tested and judged. Saul and David are scrutinized critically via their encounters with the Philistines and both, for different reasons, are found wanting. The Philistines are particularly well suited as adversaries, fueling much of the unfolding action in 1 Samuel. They are more formidable and greater

108  Living in the land in numbers than in Judges. They are masters of weaponry, seemingly superior militarily to the Israelites. As they settle adjacent lands, the division of territories between Israelites and Philistines becomes a source of friction and even of violence. Philistine intimidation is seen as a constant threat. In reaction to that intimidation, the biblical writers revert to tales of mockery, turning Philistines into fools and portraying their god as impotent. Yet two Philistines, Achish and Ittai, protect David and become his steadfast allies. Philistines illustrate the many roles strangers take on in biblical narratives. They test the mettle of the Israelites but also play a crucial role in Israelite survival. At times they are indispensable neighbors and at other times they are enemies, locked in battles that neither side can decisively win, resulting in an uneasy status quo. Philistines and Israelites experience in common God’s inexplicability. Biblical tales provide glimmers of their experience.

A question of method In this chapter I focus on the literary characterizations of Philistines and the Israelite leaders who fight them in the narrative’s final form. But the figure of David in particular has generated a spurt of recent publications interested in the history of the text’s composition, its separate traditions and growth, and historical events external to the text.2 Such historical and textual criticism contributes to a literary reading. Jacob Wright’s work provides an example. Wright identifies three distinct narratives that concern Saul and David: 1) The first is the older independent David account that is focused on the kingdom of Judah. It may have been composed quite early, even before the conquest of Israel in 722 BCE. 2) The second stage is the synthesis of this account with the independent Saul account. The authors show how David and his line are the rightful rulers of all Israel. Their work must be dated before the conquest of Judah in 586 BCE. 3) The third stage is post-exilic . . . they [the writers] are concerned with setting forth a new model of political community: a people (or nation) that can survive the loss of statehood and territorial sovereignty. David embodies unalloyed state power and the account of his reign becomes the pivot in this history.3 If Wright is correct, the second account assumes an independent story of Saul and has as its task the creation and preservation of a positive portrait of David that protects him from charges of usurping Saul’s throne. The persuasiveness of Wright’s account lies in its ability to explain the seemingly contradictory impulses in the biblical characterization of David. He is both beloved and despised, the subject of unshakable loyalty as well as of betrayal by entire towns (Keilah and Ziph). David takes what he wants while appearing to be passionately loyal to Saul. The complex David of the

Warriors and kings  109 narrative’s final form emerges from the weaving together of these different versions. Of course it is always possible that the David of the final form is a creative portrayal of a deeply torn and ambitious man by an insightful biblical writer rather than the culmination of different textual versions of him. Either way, the writers of these tales have produced a remarkable literary work. My interest lies less in reconstructing the external reality and an actual figure, David, and more in how the biblical writers made sense of him. David is of interest because of his many entanglements with the Philistines, especially Goliath, King Achish of Gath and Ittai. A fuller picture of the Israelites and Philistines emerges as we turn to the many stories told of them in Samuel. The final form of the narrative produces “aesthetic works crafted to generate meaning.”4

Round two: Philistines and Israelites The battles of Philistines and Israelites begin in 1 Samuel 4. Eli, priest and mentor of Samuel, has an important role in the early stages of the Philistine war before losing his sons in battle and dying shortly after. The story then shifts to Philistine territory where God takes over the leading role against the Philistines and their god Dagon. At first the war goes badly for Israel. It is a rout. The Philistines kill 4,000 soldiers. In seeking an explanation for such a defeat and to prevent its repetition, the elders of Israel decide to take the Ark of the Covenant of YHWH into the field so that “. . . He will come into our midst and save us from the hands of our enemies” (1 Sam 4:3b). But first they must remove the ark from the care of Eli’s sons. God has already undermined Hophni and Phinehas due to their corrupt practices and repeated violations of God’s commandments. In consequence the elders realize how inappropriate are the sons of Eli as guardians of the ark. They bring the ark to the site where God’s presence is most necessary: the battlefield. Unpredictability and the overturning of expectations characterize God’s actions in these stories. The elders’ plan backfires in rather extraordinary fashion. As the ark is brought into the Israelite camp, the Israelites burst into exultation and shouting that lead not to victory but a fierce and successful Philistine attack. The Philistines hear the sound and identify its source as originating in the Hebrews’ camp: And the Philistines were frightened and said, “God came to the camp” and they said, “Woe to us because nothing like this has happened before. Woe to us. Who will save us from the hand of these mighty gods? These are the gods who struck Egypt with every strike in the wilderness. Be strong and be men, Philistines, lest you become slaves to the Hebrews as they were slaves to you. Be men and fight! And the Philistines fought and routed Israel and each man fled to his tent and it was a very great

110  Living in the land strike and thirty thousand foot soldiers fell in Israel. And the Ark of God was taken and the two sons of Eli died, Hophni and Phinehas. (1 Sam 4:7–11, italics mine) The narrator provides us access to the inner thoughts of these strangers. The Philistines quickly recognize God’s presence and deduce that God can do to them what God did to the Egyptians. Just as Jethro and Rahab ‘knew’ of the Israelite God, so too do the Philistines. Knowledge of God’s defeat of the Egyptians should deter the Philistines from attempting to fight the Israelites. They should put down their weapons, return to their homes and make peace. Instead they use God’s presence and reputation as motivation to rouse their troops to kill the Israelites. Because God struck Egypt, Philistines must now strike Israel. The Philistines show considerable courage in facing their adversaries and a great deal of audacity by challenging the God of Israel. As a result, for the first time God’s Ark falls into the hands of another people. God inexplicably allows this disaster to happen. The ark’s capture by the Philistines is considered a tragedy by the two people closest to the slain sons of Eli. The priest and the wife of his son Phinehas publicly grieve, not over Hophni and Phinehas, but over the loss of the ark. Only after learning that the ark has been taken, and not that his sons have been killed, does Eli die. His daughter-in-law dies soon after in premature childbirth brought on by the news. She names her son Ichabod, meaning ‘without glory.’ With her last breath she announces: “The glory has been exiled from Israel because the Ark of God has been taken” (1 Sam 4:22). This first episode ends with the unforgettable image of a woman who, after bringing forth new life, grieves and dies over the loss of the ark and the tragedy of God’s absence from Israel. The Philistines of the book of I Samuel no longer waste time on battling a sole individual but attack an entire people. They are savvy and quick on their feet as they recognize God as their true foe. The Israelites are merely God’s agents. Such clarity stands in contrast to the Philistines in the book of Judges who had failed to see God’s hand behind Samson’s provocation. These Philistines recognize the value of possessing God’s Ark. Since the Israelites have unwittingly brought the ark within their reach, the Philistines seize the opportunity, outfoxing the Israelites at their own game. Or do they?

The battle of YHWH versus Dagon What the Israelites were unable to do on the battlefield – weaken, if not destroy, the Philistines – occurs in the very next scene. The Philistines come face to face with the power of God’s Ark as well as God’s determination to punish their audacity through humiliation and mockery. God will strike the Philistines as God did the Egyptians, but more efficiently, with one plague rather than ten. As events unfold, the bold Philistine warriors become increasingly agitated. Philistine power is diminished and their unity

Warriors and kings  111 disrupted. They are shocked by what happens to them. Too late they realize their error in removing God’s Ark from the Israelites. The tale’s ending suggests that the Israelites will face God’s terrifying wrath as well. The Philistines place the captured ark next to their god, Dagon, in Dagon’s temple in Ashdod. The people of Ashdod wake in the morning to the following scene: Behold Dagon fell forward to the ground, before the Ark of YHWH and they took Dagon and returned him to his place. And they woke the morning after and behold, Dagon fell forward to the ground, before the Ark of YHWH and the head of Dagon and his two hands were cut off, at the threshold, only [the trunk of] Dagon remained. 1 Sam 5:3–4 Humiliation and powerlessness, experiences once exchanged between the Philistines and Samson in Dagon’s temple, now recur. The battle of YHWH versus Dagon has begun. Dagon’s decapitated head and hands at the threshold of the temple suggest that the transition from God’s regime to that of Dagon has been decisively derailed. God’s Ark can be taken across the border into the land of the Philistines and placed within the temple walls in Ashdod, but no border can contain God’s wrath. God will strike not only Ashdod but also its inhabitants as God’s fury and peculiar punishment (hemorrhoids) spreads onto the bodies of those living there and wherever else the ark is taken. Philistine panic spreads in response to God’s actions. There will be no escape. The graphic image of Dagon’s decapitated head and truncated hands suggests not only that God is the ‘head’ of the gods but that Dagon no longer has a head to lead or hands with which to fight back. Robert Alter points out that cutting off a prisoner’s hands “was a well-known barbaric practice in the ancient Near East and similar acts of mutilation are attested in the book of Judges.”5 The best way to humiliate Philistines is to humiliate their god. The narrator further accentuates the helplessness and futility of a Dagon without hands by announcing that the ‘hand of YHWH’ has struck the people of Ashdod. God strikes the people of Ashdod with tumors that especially afflict the area of the rectum and anus, hence the choice in some translations of the more specific “hemorrhoids.” Turning enemies into objects of ridicule by means of toilet humor is common in many cultures. Images of hemorrhoids and Philistine anuses undermine the ruling hierarchy by robbing the allegedly more powerful figures of their dignity and invulnerability. The anus itself, as one of the body’s exits, is also a border, further demonstrating God’s pervasive reach. When the area of body or territory is inflamed, it produces great discomfort.6 The people of Ashdod quickly draw the right conclusion. The Israelites’ God is superior to Dagon and will punish those who dare to remove God’s

112  Living in the land Ark from Israelite territory in order to illustrate that point in the most humiliating fashion. In 1 Samuel 5:7 the Philistines refer to God with the additional descriptor “of Israel,” underlining God’s unbreakable connection to the Israelites as well as the ark. The phrase “the Ark of the God of Israel” appears four more times in the chapter. The Philistines have recognized what God is capable of doing on behalf of the Israelites. The story also serves to remind the Israelites of that fact. The people of Ashdod convene Philistine lords from all their cities to ask a seemingly innocent question: “What shall we do with the Ark of the God of Israel?” (1 Sam 5:8). Their intent is to get rid of the ark as quickly as they can without explaining why. The inhabitants of Gath accept the ark without knowing the truth about what the ark has wrought thus far. They have been left vulnerable and unprepared. A first crack in Philistine unity has appeared. As the ark enters the town of Gath, God’s hand strikes again but this time more widely. God inflicts ‘the young and old’ with the mysterious tumors. The escalation in the severity of God’s punishment equals the growing Philistine panic. This time no gathering is called. Instead, the ark is passed directly to the people of Ekron. In contrast to the inhabitants of Ashdod and Gath, the Ekronites know what is in store for them and therefore protest the presence of the ark in their town: “They have moved the Ark of the God of Israel to kill us and our people” (1 Sam 5:10). The Ekronites are worried not only about hemorrhoids but about death. Panic breaks out among them. The rallying cry of a unified Philistine army, lethal and quick on the field, is replaced with Philistines in separate towns, crying in pain from rectal tumors and blaming each other.7 As Philistine panic rises, so too does Israelite pleasure in their discomfort. God has used the Philistines to remind the Israelites of God’s powers. While Philistines may have defeated Israelites in battle, they certainly did not defeat YHWH. According to 1 Samuel 6:1 the preceding events unfold over seven months before it occurs to the Philistines to seek the counsel of their priests and diviners. They ask the question first asked by the inhabitants of Ashdod: “What shall we do to the Ark of YHWH? Make known to us with what shall we send it to its place?” And they said, “If you send away the Ark of the God of Israel, don’t send it empty but surely return it with compensation so then you will be healed and He will make Himself known to you [otherwise] he will not turn His hand away from you.” And they said, “What shall be the compensation that we send to Him?” and they said, “The number of lords of the Philistines – five gold hemorrhoids and five gold mice – for one plague struck all of you and all of your lords. You shall make the image of the hemorrhoids and the image of the mice that are destroying the land and give them to the God of Israel as [a sign of] honor. Perhaps He will lessen his hand from upon you

Warriors and kings  113 and from upon your gods and from upon your land. And why should you harden your hearts as Egypt and Pharaoh hardened their hearts so that He acted ruthlessly against them so they sent them [Israel] and they went?” 1 Sam 6:2b–6 The priests hope to save the Philistines from further mockery by correctly reading the situation. They accept God’s superior power over other gods while asserting that Philistines are not like Egyptians. Philistine priests are wiser than their Egyptian counterparts about the ways of YHWH. A sound play in the Hebrew nicely makes the point. The Egyptians hardened their hearts (kaved) but the Philistines will show God honor (kavod). They have learned from the Egyptian episode and will not repeat their mistakes. The Philistine priests recognize YHWH’s power to afflict as well as to heal. God does this across borders. The familiar trope of strangers declaring knowledge of God is explicitly reintroduced. It is the Philistines’ turn. The Ark is sent back to Israelite territory and arrives in Beit-Shemesh. Another crossing between Philistine and Israelite territories, just as in Samson’s story, has occurred, this time in reverse. It reinforces the proximity of the two peoples living next door to one another. In each generation they must again learn the consequences, and limits, of their entanglement. When the people of Beit-Shemesh observe the arrival of God’s Ark, they break into joy. Thus should all stories conclude – happily. God has proven that the Israelites cannot defeat the Philistines but God can. Yet that positive conclusion is quickly overshadowed in a way that challenges the desirability of God’s presence even within an Israelite community. The story’s surprising end subverts the tidiness of the tale up until this point. YHWH may be the God of Israel but God’s ways are inexplicable and God’s powers terrifyingly unpredictable. God may be stranger than the Philistines. The inhabitants of Beit-Shemesh respond to the ark’s arrival with a ritually pious gesture of thanksgiving. They sacrifice the cows that brought the ark back to their community as a burnt offering to God. The Levites transform a large stone into an altar and place God’s Ark on its top. Burnt offerings and sacrifices are offered up to God and witnessed by the Philistines who then return to their territory. A more orderly description of ritual thanksgiving, sacrifices and Levitical performance could not be found. And yet, disaster strikes without warning. And [God] struck among the men of Beit-Shemesh because they looked in the Ark of YHWH and struck among the people seventy men and fifty thousand men, and the people mourned because YHWH struck among the people a great strike. And the people of Beit-Shemesh said, “Who is able to stand before YHWH this Holy God? And to whom shall He go up from us?” 1 Sam 6:19–20

114  Living in the land The cry is a familiar one to readers, uttered in times past by Israelites after witnessing God’s wrath, including in the depths of the crisis in the wilderness in Numbers 17 when a great plague breaks out, killing thousands of Israelites (Num 17:14). The cry of the inhabitants of Beit-Shemesh is startling because the people seem to carefully follow protocol and yet a great number of Israelites are reportedly killed. The people’s greatest threat originates in God’s attack. At times, ambivalence over God’s presence in their lives supersedes anxiety over strangers nearby. The second question, where to send God’s ark, ironically echoes the urgent cries of the Philistines of Ashdod. The people of Beit-Shemesh share the Philistines’ impulse to shield themselves as quickly as they can from the dangers of God’s proximity. In the end, God’s Ark comes to rest in the house of Abinadab at Kiriath-Jearim where it remains for twenty years (1 Sam 7:1–2). One can imagine the relief felt in common by Philistines and the people of Beit-Shemesh to be free of the Ark.8 Lest that shared sentiment take root too deeply in the hearts of either people, the remainder of 1 Samuel 7 reasserts the distinctions and boundaries between Israelites and Philistines. The prophet Samuel reappears and instructs the Israelites to remove foreign gods from their midst. They must serve God alone. After the story of Dagon, a god outside the borders of Israel, we discover the presence of gods within that border. The new information is suggestive. The public performance of God among the Philistines, the humiliation of Dagon, and the return of the Ark to Israel might have a polemical purpose in motivating the Israelites to worship YHWH alone. If so, God’s intervention has only partially succeeded. God can defeat and humiliate Philistines but cannot persuade Israelites to set aside the worship of other gods. Samuel is still worried about the temptations of ‘foreign’ gods. He is compelled to exhort the Israelites to serve God alone. Then, and only then, will God save them from the ‘hand’ of the Philistines (1 Sam 7:3). Samuel proves to be an able intermediary, calling upon God when the Philistines attack Israel at Mizpah so that God will decisively rout the Philistines (7:10). Chapter 7 completes the cycle begun in 1 Samuel 4. Samuel was a young man in 1 Samuel 4 and not yet fully engaged as a leader. The Philistines decisively routed the Israelites (4:2, 10). Now defeat has been replaced by victory and Samuel’s singular claim to leadership is established: “The absence of Samuel signals Israel’s defeat in chapter 4, his presence in chapter 7 Israel’s victory.”9 After the victory, Samuel sets up a stone at EbenEzer precisely at the site in which the battles began in 4:1. The narratives of 1 Samuel 4–7 illustrate that these Philistines, as those of old, are instruments in God’s hands. They are eloquent and heroic at the start of 1 Samuel 4, find the courage to battle the Israelites, and decisively defeat them. Yet how quickly over-turned is that heroic portrait through shaming them and their god Dagon. They are not a people to fear. Nor do they merit the offer of an alliance. On the other hand, the discomfort caused by a physical malady such as hemorrhoids is a recognizable human

Warriors and kings  115 condition. An audience might laugh, but no doubt would do so uneasily. Paradox lurks in a story in which an audience requires personal knowledge of the ailment and its discomforts in order to find it amusing. Such a tale of mockery unintentionally ends up humanizing strangers by means of identification, however reluctantly. God’s strike against the inhabitants of Beit-Shemesh shares significant elements with the Philistine tale. Robert Polzin points out that the same verb used by God in 1 Samuel 5:6, 9, 12 against the Philistines is used again by God against the inhabitants of Beit-Shemesh in 1 Samuel 6:19.10 Polzin concludes: “The similar fate of Israelite and Philistine vis à vis the ark of God is what the account in I Samuel 4–6 emphasizes at every point.”11 Having God in the midst of either community is dangerous, but it turns out to be far worse for the Israelites than it had been for the Philistines. Strikingly, Israelites and Philistines share a terror of YHWH based on common experience. The episode in Beit-Shemesh provides a context for the Israelite willingness in 1 Samuel 8 to demand a king from Samuel to be like “all the other nations” (1 Sam 8:5), thereby weakening their unique status as God’s partners. The timing of the people’s request for a new sort of leader is significant. The calamity at Beit-Shemesh has made a king appear more palatable than God. The divine strike against the inhabitants of Beit-Shemesh illustrates God’s unpredictability and strangeness. Divine demands may be onerous and divine reactions chilling. The people have not yet realized that it is the nature of leadership, divine and human, to be inconsistent and unpredictable, at times heroic and glorious, at other times the cause of dismay and regret. Whoever leads the Israelites, Philistines persist. Tales of humiliation and mockery offer short-term pleasure and satisfaction but do not resolve ongoing tensions. Battles between the two peoples pervade the remainder of 1 Samuel, suggesting that they cannot avoid one other. In the stories to come, God continues to use the Philistines as an opportunity to fulfill a variety of divine goals, especially the experiment with a new sort of Israelite ruler, a king. By means of the Philistines, the characters of those who will or should become king – Saul, Jonathan and David – are critically exposed and judged. It is to their stories, and especially their interactions with the Philistines, that I now turn.

Round three: Kings and warriors on the field of battle In 1 Samuel 10:5 the prophet Samuel orders Saul of the tribe of Benjamin, the first king of Israel, to go to the Hill of God where the prefects of the Philistines reside. Samuel is opposed to this new form of leadership and personally offended by Israelite rejection of his hitherto prominent role. Yet the people persist in their demands for a king who can fight their battles. In sending Saul into an area in which Philistines reside, Samuel creates the likelihood of inevitable conflict since the area happens to be within Saul’s

116  Living in the land territory. Alter points out the clear implication: “A Philistine garrison deep within Benjaminite territory is still another indication of the Philistines’ military ascendancy.”12 Their proximity suggests the limited success of God’s defeat of Dagon. It also tests both Saul’s mettle and the peoples’ wisdom in demanding a king. Saul’s battles with Philistines provide the first evidence for whether or not he will succeed as king. The trial begins immediately, when Saul’s son Jonathan initiates violence against the Philistines. He does so on his own rather than directed by his father. “And Jonathan struck the prefect of the Philistines in Geba and the Philistines heard and Saul blew the shofar in all the land saying, ‘Let the Hebrews hear’ ” (1 Sam 13:3). The introduction of a new character in biblical narrative often highlights particular traits that will define his/her personality. Our first view of Jonathan emphasizes his independence as well as his military prowess as he successfully strikes a ruler of the Philistines. Like Samson before him and David afterwards, Jonathan is a young man. “The theme of the hero who successfully battles a multitude of Philistines recurs . . . there is a particular stress on these as youthful exploits.”13 The Philistines pay attention to Jonathan. But the Israelites assume that it was Saul who struck the first blow (1 Sam 13:4). The mistake foreshadows the extent to which Saul’s career is entangled with heroic acts of others who trigger his insecurity and jealousy. Soon enough others end up preferring his rival David. Such will be the case even with his son. In the next scene Saul and Jonathan are able to muster only 600 men while observing far greater numbers of Philistines arrayed against them in three foreboding columns, indicative of superior military organization. In a digression relevant to the story, the narrator reports that Israelites habitually cross into Philistine territory so that Philistine smiths can sharpen their agricultural implements. In other words, Israelites engage in mutually beneficial commerce with the Philistines, during which the latter carefully monitor the Israelites in order to prevent their acquisition of swords and spears instead of plows, keeping them militarily vulnerable. The digression indicates that Israelites have lived peacefully as neighbors of the Philistines. Jonathan’s attack forces them to face the Philistines’ wrath without the benefit of weapons of war: “And so it was that on the day of the battle there was not found either sword or spear in the hands of the people who were with Saul and Jonathan except for those of Saul and Jonathan his son” (1 Sam 13:22). Jonathan takes the next step by secretly leaving the safety of Saul’s encampment to enter the Philistine garrison with only his assistant at his side. He astutely reasons: “Come, let’s cross over to the outpost of these uncircumcised. Perhaps YHWH will act on our behalf because there is nothing stopping YHWH from being victorious by many or by few” (1 Sam 14:6). Jonathan is the first in I Samuel to refer to the Philistines as ‘uncircumcised,’ an epithet that frequently recurs in these stories. By mentioning YHWH in the same breath, Jonathan is drawing yet another, even more important distinction between Israelite and Philistine. He knows that

Warriors and kings  117 God uses Philistines to illustrate divine powers either through individuals or armies. Jonathan is ready to be that vessel. His discernment of God stands in striking contrast to his father, who repeatedly fails to grasp God’s ways. That will be Saul’s undoing. The Philistines express reasonable confidence considering their numbers; 30,000 chariots, 6,000 horsemen and troops “as numerous as the sands of the sea” (1 Sam 13:5). They have again become a formidable threat with ambitions to expand their presence in Israelite territory (1 Sam 10:5, 13:17– 18). Even so, the battle is won, thanks largely to Jonathan’s audacity, quickness, courage and confidence in God. Saul squanders the opportunity provided by God to decisively defeat the Philistines. Those who survive the battle are allowed to return to their homes. In consequence, they continue to threaten Saul throughout his reign. He is never free of them. A king will not succeed, especially one appointed due to an urgent need for a successful military leader, if he gives up the fight too readily and allows his enemies to return to their homes. Saul’s failure opens the way for a leader who will strike significant blows against the Philistines. That leader is David. Quite unexpectedly, the new hero is saved and protected by a Philistine king.

“Aren’t I the Philistine?” We first meet David as a youth. Years of tension with Saul lie ahead of him before he becomes king. Famously, David makes his public debut in rather spectacular military fashion by confronting the Philistine Goliath. His adversary is the most impressive Philistine that David will ever confront. Such an outsized enemy confirms God’s choice of him as king. The narrator’s description of Goliath emphasizes his might and his enormous size: his height was six cubits and a span. A bronze helmet he had on his head, and in armor of mail he was dressed, and the weight of the armor was five thousand bronze shekels. And greaves of bronze were on his legs and a spear of bronze between his shoulder blades. The shaft of his spear like a weaver’s beam, and the blade of his spear six hundred iron shekels. 1 Sam 17:4b–714 Goliath’s speech galvanizes David to action. He boasts that he is unbeatable, especially since his opponent is none other than the hapless Saul. He asserts the obvious: “Aren’t I the Philistine?” (1 Sam 17:8). If Saul was able to reflect upon his prior experience with the Philistines, he might have predicted that Goliath’s actual powers, like those of the Philistine troops, were more limited than his weaponry and bravado would suggest. Yet Goliath’s appearance and his words are enough to leave Israelites, including Saul, in shock and terror. If Saul is as terrified as his people, then the time to replace

118  Living in the land him is near. Goliath concludes in good measure: “I defy the ranks of Israel!” David points out, with the same intuitive understanding of YHWH as Jonathan, that Goliath has it wrong. Goliath defies the God of Israel, not just the people. David’s refusal to be deterred by the likes of Goliath stands in even sharper contrast to Saul than Jonathan’s earlier defiance against the Philistines. Interestingly, Jonathan does not appear in this tale. All eyes are on David, whose debut is dramatic and attention-grabbing: “What will be done for the man who strikes that Philistine and removes the disgrace from Israel? For who is that uncircumcised Philistine that he dares defy the ranks of the living God?” (1 Sam 17:26). David makes up for the Israelites’ timidity with his extraordinary confidence. He reminds the reader of Jonathan, who has already killed uncircumcised Philistines. Jonathan and David are linked to one another and set apart from Saul. The traits they share in common make them friends and allies. The writer’s portrait of David is not an unambiguously glorious one, however. He manages to create suspicion of David by means of the order of events. David asks his audacious question – what will be done for the man who kills that Philistine – only after learning of Saul’s promise that whoever defeats Goliath will reap monetary reward and receive his daughter’s hand in marriage. Only then does David step forward. Despite all his dazzling public rhetoric to that effect, obtaining glory for God is not his only motive. The narrator interrupts the scene with a private rebuke of David by his older brother Eliab, who calls David an impudent boy, wicked in his heart (1 Sam 17:28). Eliab’s words introduce a strikingly discordant note into a tale that establishes David’s heroic stature. They also remind the reader that David is a younger brother who threatens the rights of an older brother, a trope well established in Genesis. Eliab’s critical view of David hovers in the background, never emerging as a dominant portrait of the great hero but providing an alternative view of David that throws suspicion on his behavior throughout his life. David’s character is not set in stone. He is even more elusive and restless than Samson and certainly far more shrewd and calculating. Woefully underestimating David, Goliath curses him by his gods. David dramatically answers: You come to me with sword and spear and javelin but I come to you in the name of YHWH of Hosts, God of the ranks of Israel who you defied. On this day YHWH will deliver you into my hand and I will kill you and cut off your head from upon you and I will give the corpses of the Philistine camp this day to the birds of the heavens and the beasts of the earth and all the earth shall know that there is a God in Israel and this whole assembly shall know that not by sword or by spear shall YHWH give victory for to YHWH is the battle and He will give you into our hands. 1 Sam 17:45–47

Warriors and kings  119 David acknowledges YHWH as the source of power and glory. At the same time David delights in describing how he, not YHWH, will kill Goliath. Feeding Goliath’s carcass to the birds and the beasts is an expression of great disdain for an adversary. David cuts Goliath down to size with his words and in so doing, has found a way to again demythologize and humiliate Philistines. Goliath’s fate would greatly satisfy an Israelite audience. At the end of his speech, David pointedly refers to ‘our’ hands, shrewdly making his impending slaughter of Goliath a shared enterprise with the Israelites. David’s speech reminds the people of what is really at stake: the reputation of YHWH and the creation of a people whose distinction rests in their loyalty to YHWH, their greatest warrior. David has managed to mitigate the flaw in the people’s original plea for a king in 1 Samuel 8 that had so offended YHWH. He reminds the Israelites that only YHWH, not a human being, can secure victory. At the very same time, of course, David has the opportunity to showcase his own skills, rhetorical and military. He wins God and the people over to his cause and does himself no harm. The present confrontation ends as David said it would. He cuts off the head of Goliath and brings it to Saul. Cutting off Goliath’s head reminds us of God’s decapitation of Dagon, the Philistine god. Both serve the same purpose. They glorify YHWH. The Philistines flee after David’s fight with Goliath and this time the men of Israel, having regained courage, chase after them. They kill many Philistines as well as loot their supplies and possessions. The Israelites succeed in pushing Philistines back into their own territory. They are neither fierce nor fearless. Yet they have survived.

David and King Achish of Gath Ongoing threats from the Philistines continue to justify the people’s original desires for a king to defend them against their enemies. Every success David records against the Philistines justifies his choice as the man to succeed Saul, a fact that Saul knows all too well. David’s battles highlight his steeliness and coolness in the midst of a fight in contrast to Saul’s indecisiveness. The king’s jealousy drives him to seek David’s death. David escapes and ends up in the Philistine city of Gath. Joel Baden captures the result: “Here in the wilderness, David would manage not only to survive, but to accumulate substantial power. He entered the wilderness alone, but he emerged from it a king.”15 The characterization of David on the run emphasizes the cunning figure who uses whatever comes to hand in order to survive. His flight conjures up an earlier slayer of Philistines, Samson, who likewise used whatever came to hand. But the comparison is only partial. As a fugitive, David does not seek to kill Philistines but to find safety and sanctuary in their midst. David’s flight from Saul casts the Philistines in a surprisingly positive role. David defies Goliath’s fellow soldiers by appearing in Gath, Goliath’s home. He even carries Goliath’s sword with him. The risk is great; the

120  Living in the land servants of King Achish of Gath immediately recognize David as the subject of a popular Israelite chant that exults in his slaughter of tens of thousands of Philistines (1 Sam 18:7). The Philistine courtiers are shrewder than their king in their distrust of David. The song that praised David’s heroics ironically threatens to expose and endanger him in the Philistine city. Why does David flee to Gath of all places? Perhaps David’s judgment is cloudy. He is so desperate to escape Saul’s crazed obsession with him that he chooses one of the towns closest to Judah for his escape, even if it is a Philistine town. Alternatively, perhaps David heads into such a risky situation because he enjoys figuring out how to escape from danger. If so, David shares Samson’s attraction to danger – the more dangerous, the better. Rather than leaving a path of destruction behind him, as was Samson’s wont, David uses his brains in Gath rather than his brawn and devises an ingenious plan. He feigns madness: And David took these words to heart and was very afraid because of Achish the King of Gath. So he altered his judgment from their eyes and acted the lunatic in their hands and scratched on the doors of the gate and let his spit run down his beard. And Achish said to his servants, “Look, you see this man is crazy; why bring him to me? Do I lack crazy men that you bring this one to be crazy for me? Should this one come into my house?” 1 Sam 21:13–16 David’s ‘judgment’ is contrasted with Achish’s view of him as ‘crazy.’ The story shows David to be a master of disguise. David transforms his appearance and hides his skills as a warrior without hesitation, literally and figuratively unclothing his heroic self. On the run from Saul, David’s fuller personality, one that includes lying, cunning and trickery, reveals itself. As David ages in these narratives, he often conceals his beliefs and ideas in politically savvy speeches, or appears to be expressing authentic emotion when circumstances cast his expressions in doubt. Such public performances further his ambitions. David’s foray into Philistine territory reinforces just how fortuitous and effective disguise can be. Achish responds by getting rid of David as quickly as possible instead of killing Goliath’s slayer. This harmless lunatic appears to pose no military threat. Or, perhaps Achish has not been fooled after all, and simply does not want David in his house. He might intuit the warrior underneath the madman. If so, why doesn’t Achish kill David? The extent of Achish’s ability to assess David’s character accurately as well as the danger David represents remains an open question when David returns to Achish’s territory a second time. McKenzie suggests that the story of David’s feigned madness parodies the Philistines: “It depicts them as gullible and unable to distinguish reason from insanity. It also lauds David for his cleverness in dealing with Israel’s

Warriors and kings  121 enemies.”16 Perhaps McKenzie’s characterization is true of Achish though not of his men. They know full well what David has done in the past and therefore of what he is capable of in the present. They retain that skepticism throughout their observations of David. Using lunacy as a disguise also serves to remind the reader of Saul’s increasing mental illness. “David feigns madness in order to survive and eventually to become king, in contrast to Saul, whose genuine madness reflects his loss of control over the kingdom.”17 Retaining control throughout the encounter with Achish allows David to escape from Gath. David discovers that the Philistines are raiding Keilah and plundering its threshing floors (1 Sam 23:1–5). The brief note reminds Israelites just how problematic the Philistines can be as neighbors. God delivers the Philistines into David’s hand in a decisive defeat that saves the inhabitants of Keilah. This episode, immediately following David’s first attempt to hide in Philistine territory, seems to suggest that David is loyal to Israelites and remains an enemy of Philistines. It also justifies those Philistines suspicious of David. But the inhabitants of Keilah are just as skeptical of David as Achish’s soldiers, and are especially wary of his role as their savior. They are ready to hand him over to Saul (1 Sam 23:12). Upon learning of their plans against him, David flees from Keilah to Ziph, whose inhabitants are also prepared to hand David over to Saul. His flight illustrates the extent to which David and his men are perceived as threats not only to the Philistines but to the villagers of Keilah and Ziph. David is welcomed neither in Saul’s territory, nor in the region of Judah, nor in Gath. The report that the Philistines have again crossed over the borders to invade Israelite lands (1 Sam 23:27–28) diverts Saul from his single-minded pursuit of David. Providing David momentary relief from Saul’s pursuit of him indirectly casts the Philistines as David’s protector, anticipating Achish’s future willingness to offer David shelter. Ironically, David’s rout of the Philistines at Keilah provokes the invasion that Saul must now stop. Unlike the glowing report of David’s decisive defeat of the Philistines at Keilah, Saul’s success or failure goes unreported. As soon as he returns from the battle, Saul renews his pursuit of David (1 Sam 24:2). The detail reveals the extent to which Saul squanders his army on a personal vendetta against David rather than fulfilling his responsibility as king to protect his people. Faced with a renewal of Saul’s obsessive pursuit of him, David returns to the land of the Philistines: “ ‘There is nothing better than surely escaping to the land of the Philistines and Saul will give up seeking me any longer in all the borders of Israel and I will escape from his hand’ ” (1 Sam 27:1). Once David crosses over into Gath, Saul gives up the pursuit, proving David’s hunch to be correct. Before examining David’s second encounter with Achish, let me briefly consider explanations for David’s time under the Philistine king’s protection in the recent works of Jacob Wright and Joel Baden. Wright identifies two separate strands in the stories of David and Achish. One presents David as a

122  Living in the land valiant and brave ally of Saul who only reluctantly seeks asylum with Achish and then must feign madness once he realizes that the Philistines distrust him (1 Sam 21). The second strand, describing David’s return to Achish, seems to know nothing about David’s relationship with Saul. Wright argues: “Instead it portrays David as a mercenary warlord. In this strand he too interacts with Achish at Gath. Yet instead of running into trouble with the Philistine king and then absconding, David gets along with him splendidly and ends up serving him for a lengthy period.”18 Wright argues that as a youngest son, David has few material prospects. He has little choice but to seek his fortune as a bandit and a mercenary. “He takes the career path of many disadvantaged, making a name for himself as a soldier of fortune and warlord. In the employ of a Philistine potentate, he wins the allegiance of clans in the southern hill country.”19 The relationship is mutually beneficial. Achish gets a foreign mercenary upon whom he can rely, since David has no allegiance in Philistine territory to anyone but the king. The longer he remains with Achish, the more dependent and isolated David will become. Yet David can, and, according to Wright’s reconstruction, does use his time under Achish’s protection to sharpen his skills, acquaint himself with the network of settlements in the region of Judah and eventually charm or force them into crowning him their king in Hebron.20 Joel Baden reaches an equally unflattering conclusion regarding the future king’s time with Achish.21 Having given up his affiliation to Saul, David is as much an enemy to Israel and Judah as he is to the Philistines. By seeking shelter among the Philistines, David was less a traitor and more a defector. And, like most defectors he was welcomed with open arms . . . Achish, the king of Gath, accepted the sudden influx of both bodies and arms that David and his men provided.22 Baden describes David’s use of his time under Achish to create a secure base from which to obtain power over the nearby Judahites. He goes further than Wright in claiming that David is directly culpable in Saul’s death by advising the Philistines on how to attack and beat Saul. After David returns to the territory of Judah and rules it from Hebron, he will remain a vassal of the Philistines for some time.23 Both reconstructions are eminently plausible. They have identified the circumstances under which an arrangement between Achish and David could work. They explain certain other oddities in the text, such as why two stories exist in which David seeks sanctuary from Achish and why the two stories end quite differently. Their useful reconstructions complement, and serve as background, to my reading, which relies on the final form of the story. When considered together, textual history and close reading explain contradictions, enrich the story in satisfying ways and develop the complexity of its characters and their motives. Thus can a mad David become a loyal ally of Achish.

Warriors and kings  123 Reading the final form allows me to observe that David’s two visits to Achish have in common his use of deception and disguise. David deals with Achish not in two distinct traditions (madman versus mercenary) but in two different but equally desperate periods in his life. David’s daring, even audacious return to Achish after his escape in the first round marks him as a crafty and ruthless figure. Since Achish was easy to fool, David thinks he can fool him again. David’s entry into Achish’s territory not only with 600 men (certainly sufficient provocation for Achish to be wary of David and set his greater numbers against him if necessary) but also with his two wives illustrates the degree of David’s confidence in his powers of persuasion. Such confidence is well placed. Achish saves David once again, whether out of infatuation, naiveté, altruism or self-interest. In protecting David, Achish joins Jethro in providing Moses sanctuary after escaping from an enraged pharaoh, and Rahab, who offers the Israelite spies a safe hiding place. In each example, an outsider is crucial to the survival of the Israelites. The story defies, and even subverts, a rigid categorization of strangers as either friend or enemy. A continuum exists. David’s arrangement with Achish continues for at least a year and four months. Chafing under close proximity to the Philistine king, David seeks to settle in another of the cities under Achish’s rule. Achish gives David the town of Ziklag, perhaps because he wants to keep David in his territory but at a distance. By keeping David at a distance, Achish cannot monitor his activities, a fact that David exploits. Using Ziklag as a base, David makes himself a nuisance by raiding surrounding peoples (but not Philistines or Israelites) and showing them no mercy. He leaves neither man nor woman alive in the towns he conquers. He takes their flocks and clothing, pleasing Achish with a portion of the spoils. The arrangement materially benefits both of them while revealing their common greed. Achish assumes that David is plundering and killing his own people, which is not the case. But his assumption reassures the Philistine king that David’s people must surely despise him, ensuring his unshakeable loyalty to Achish.24 He is not far off the mark. The Judahites view David with suspicion. His ruthlessness and callousness are clear. In the end, his arrangement with Achish forces David into a corner. He becomes such a valuable servant that the king orders him to fight with the Philistines against Israel. An alternative reading of the situation suggests that the king does not completely trust David and therefore sets up a test to prove his loyalty. “you surely know that with me you shall go out in the camp, you and your men.” And David said to Achish, “Therefore you know what your servant will do” and Achish said to David, “Therefore I will place you as my bodyguard for life.” 1 Sam 28:1–2

124  Living in the land The way in which ‘knowing’ is exchanged between David and the Philistine king is significant. What Achish knows or thinks he knows of David’s actions against his own people has led them to this current state of affairs. Yet Achish might be far more skeptical than he lets on. After all, the order of the Hebrew, preserved in my translation, makes that point. David by now must know that he must be ‘with me,’ that is, with Achish. He must prove his loyalty. The extent of Achish’s shrewdness is intriguing. Does he see David far more clearly than many of David’s Israelite supporters? We know that Achish relies on David’s ruthlessness. Might he also see an opportunism in David that he too possesses? David’s statement, ‘you know what your servant will do,’ has its own unexpressed alternative reading. What David will do from that moment forward is unknowable. How he escapes the disguise of loyal vassal during his time among the Philistines is yet to be determined in this suspenseful moment in his early career. David’s situation has become more difficult once Achish makes David a ‘bodyguard,’ requiring his presence at Achish’s side. David is playing for the highest of stakes, not only for his reputation but also for his life, that of his wives, and that of his followers (and their families).25 At this point the story abruptly returns to Saul, now nearing the end of his life and engaged in another battle with the Philistines. The sequencing of the two scenes heightens David’s dilemma. Not only must he join forces with the Philistines, but he must face his old friend Jonathan and his king, Saul, as their enemy.

The last days of Saul The Philistines once again provide the opportunity to showcase Saul’s fears and inadequacy: “And Saul saw the camp of the Philistines and he feared, and his heart trembled very much” (1 Sam 28:5). His ongoing failure as king reaches its climax. The Philistines impose upon Saul the terrible fate that God had long ago decreed. They arrive at Aphek ready to attack, numbered in the thousands. Meanwhile the Israelites are at the spring in Jezreel. Note that “spring” is spelled with the same Hebrew letters as “eye,” hinting at the ways in which the motif of seeing with clarity, or being prevented from doing so by means of deception, has hovered over David’s story both in his dealings with Saul and with Achish. Saul has accurately and clearly seen David’s ambitions from the beginning. On the other hand, Achish might have misread David’s motives in seeking sanctuary with him. As the battle unfolds, the narrator moves back and forth from the frontlines where Saul is stationed to the back of the Philistine lines where David appears with his men, about to join the battle as ally of Achish. Moving back and forth between front and back the narrator captures the long series of bitter entanglements between Saul and David. Has the moment arrived in which David must actually choose sides?

Warriors and kings  125 The Philistines allow David to avoid such a choice. The incredulity of their officers when they see David and his men is quite pronounced: Who are these Hebrews? And Achish said to the Philistine officers “Isn’t this David, servant of Saul, King of Israel, who has been with me for a year or more and I have found no fault in him from the day he deserted until this day.” 1 Sam 29:3 The Philistines rely neither on appearances nor on Achish’s assurances. They are justifiably suspicious of David. The contrast between their mistrust and Achish’s trust neatly captures the extent of David’s influence over Achish. On the other hand, Achish does call David ‘servant of Saul’ in his answer to the Philistines. Has he suspected David’s loyalty to him all along? The Philistine leaders come straight to the point. If David is allowed to join them in battle he could easily strike the Philistine warriors as a rearguard for the Israelites. He would have a great motive to do so. By taking the heads of the Philistines (as he did with Goliath) he could easily regain Saul’s favor. To seal their argument and strengthen their protest, the officers remind Achish of the by now oft-repeated and familiar song in which David defeated thousands of Philistines. Thanks to the suspicions of the Philistine commanders, David will not have to prove his loyalty in a battle in which he could lose his life or kill fellow Israelites. David plays both sides while preserving his interests. After Achish orders David to desist from the fight, David’s response is ambiguous (as always): “Haven’t I gone out to fight against the enemy of my Lord the King” (1 Sam 29:8). To which ‘Lord the King’ is David referring? Is David talking about Achish, Saul or even YHWH? David cleverly justifies himself in front of Achish and the Israelites. Achish certainly retains a positive, if somewhat mystifying, assessment of David until the end: “I know that you are good, in my eyes you are like a messenger of God” (1 Sam 29:9). Perhaps Achish has been cast in a familiar role. He is a stranger used by God to protect David. But Achish’s admiration of David and his trust in him at this stage confirm the ways in which David repeatedly manages to capture the love and loyalty of others. God is said to be with him. Saul once preferred his music over that of all others. Jonathan and Michal love him while the women of Israel sing his praises so loudly that the Philistines know the verses by heart. That a Philistine king shares in that affection is perhaps more of a surprise but certainly reinforces the power of David’s charisma and influence over anyone he encounters, including an alleged enemy. David’s ability to gain Achish’s affection hints at David’s future negotiating skills in forging a truce while creating a precedent for mutually beneficial alliances with the Philistines. David’s evaluation of his time under Achish is less clear. He expresses no internal conflict nor does he seem to struggle with divided loyalties. I would

126  Living in the land hazard to suggest, based on David’s characterization throughout, that he feels a certain smugness in pulling one over on the Philistines. They have unwittingly preserved his reputation as he prepares to return to the Israelite side. With David standing behind the Philistine lines, uninvolved in the battle, the Philistines attack Saul and his sons ferociously: And the Philistines fought against Israel and the men of Israel fled from before the Philistines but fell on Mt. Gilboa. And the Philistines clung to Saul and his sons and the Philistines struck Jonathan and Avinadav and Malchi-Shua, sons of Saul. And the war was thick around Saul and some of the archers, men of the bow, found him and he quaked with fear from the archers. And Saul said to his armor bearer, “Draw your sword and pierce me with it lest these uncircumcised come and pierce me and make a fool of me” but his armor bearer was not willing because he was greatly frightened so Saul took the sword and fell upon it.26 1 Sam 31:1–4 Unlike numerous earlier battles when Philistines fled en masse from Israelites, in Saul’s final battle the Philistines have the upper hand. Now it is the Israelites who flee in great numbers. The use of an unusual verb, “cling,” to describe the Philistine pursuit of Saul and his sons conveys the persistence of the Philistines in going after Saul. They are determined to finish him off in a poignant reversal of his earlier hesitancy in pursuing them. Saul’s last moments memorably capture his long and disastrous career. After watching his sons die by Philistine hands, and seriously wounded, Saul demands that his armor-bearer kill him. The servant refuses to do so. Saul’s failure to secure his obedience replays many failed attempts to assert royal authority over others, especially his son Jonathan. Saul dies as he lived, literally pursued by the Philistines, a people whose presence repeatedly exposes his inadequacies as king. After proclaiming victory, the Philistines occupy a number of Israelite towns and publicly humiliate the dead Saul in their treatment of his corpse and that of his sons. They send Saul’s head and armor throughout the land of the Philistines. That haunting image provides a final epitaph on Saul’s failure to defeat the Philistines, which, after all, had been the reason he was appointed king in the first place. As noted by Robert Polzin, the many decapitated heads in the tales of Saul and of David are emblematic of the larger question that haunts their relationship. Who will ‘head’ the people Israel, the house of Saul or the house of David?27 That David acquires his reputation by cutting off Goliath’s head is no coincidence. He will go on to defeat the Philistines and becomes the successful ‘head’ of Israel. In his dirge over Saul and Jonathan David expresses the hope that the daughters of the Philistines never hear of their deaths (2 Sam 1:20). Grief

Warriors and kings  127 stricken, he imagines Philistine sites of celebration that include not only Ashkelon, but Gath, from whose king he separated mere hours before the battle in which Saul was killed. What better indication of David’s split self can be found than in the image of a man who has found sanctuary and loyalty among the people and with the king of Gath (he had returned to Ziklag when he learned of the deaths of Saul and Jonathan) only to bitterly imagine those same people celebrating the death of one of his closest friends and allies?28

“But David grew weary” The Philistines’ role in the narrative greatly diminishes at this point.29 David Jobling and Catherine Rose suggest the possible reasoning for their disappearance that also sheds light on their fate: as soon as this transition [from Saul to David] is accomplished, at the end of I Samuel, the Philistines very suddenly lose importance. They do not need, like the Canaanites, to be literally exterminated; they are exterminated textually, as they move from a position of dominance, at the end of I Samuel, to being little more than a footnote in the account of David’s triumphs in II Samuel.30 Their reappearance at the end of David’s life, as I shall argue, creates a brilliant literary frame for David’s career. But in the meanwhile, to complete the picture of David’s interactions with Philistines in the books of Samuel, I briefly consider those encounters that occur after he has been made king. Though the encounters are brief, the Philistines continue to play an important role in measuring David’s strengths and weaknesses. In 2 Samuel 5:17–25, after the Philistines hear that David has become king over Israel (his territory includes Hebron and Jerusalem), they go in search of him. In two different instances, David seeks instructions from God, who immediately reassures David that God is fighting with him, and even advises David on military strategy. David exults over God’s involvement: “God has broken through my enemies before me like waters that break through” (2 Sam 5:20). The Philistines are soundly defeated not once but twice. These abbreviated notices create the strongest possible contrast between Saul’s failure to gain God’s counsel and David’s confidence in an immediate divine response when called. An even briefer notice in 2 Samuel 8:1 announces that David not only subdued the Philistines but also conquered some of their territory. David becomes entangled with another Philistine from Gath: Ittai the Gittite (2 Sam 15:30).31 This time David rules and Ittai follows. He is willing to accompany David on his flight from Abshalom in the midst of a civil war as a loyal ally at a moment of crisis in David’s life. Achish and Ittai attest to David’s productive relationships with a counterpart from Gath.

128  Living in the land Near the end of David’s life in 2 Samuel 21:15–22 another battle erupts with the Philistines. This encounter illustrates the extent of David’s decline as king while framing his career from its beginning in his famous battle against Goliath until this late chapter in the aged David’s life. David sets out to fight the Philistines as in the early days, “but David grew weary” (2 Sam 21:15). The writer defines David’s last years with a mere two words in the Hebrew. What better way to indicate his decline than by bringing back the Philistines whom he once defeated in their thousands and among whom he had taken refuge? A Philistine seeks to kill David. Wearing a suit of new armor, the Philistine carries a bronze spear weighing 300 shekels. The details allude to Goliath (1 Sam 17:5–7). But in contrast to the earlier battle, this Philistine, though smaller and less well armed than Goliath, would have easily killed David except for the quick action of David’s solider Avishai. As a result of such a close call, David’s soldiers insist that he no longer go out to battle with them. In an alternative tradition, a Goliath appears and is killed this time by a man from Bethlehem (2 Samuel 21:19). The writer confirms that it is David’s battles against the Philistines that best define his heroic skills as a warrior and his loss of them before he dies. 2 Samuel 23 introduces another of David’s warriors, Eleazar son of Dodo, son of Ahohi: “He rose and struck the Philistines until his arm was tired and his hand clung to his sword and God made a great victory that day” (2 Sam 23:10). Another warrior, Shammah, follows Eleazar and likewise fights the Philistines against all odds and defeats them. David’s warriors have taken on his mantle as slayers of Philistines, stunningly illustrating his impotence. At the beginning and again at the end, it is the Philistines who define David, first as a warrior, hence the appropriate choice as king of Israel, and then in the end, as a mere mortal in need of a royal successor.

Conclusion: No more battles The books of Samuel present the Philistines as a formidable threat. They are more troublesome as raiders and plunderers than they had been in Judges, have territorial ambitions they lacked there, and are superior in weaponry and organization to the Israelites. This time the Philistine presence in close proximity triggers not fascination and temptation among Israelites but anxious Israelite cries for a king to lead their battles against their enemies. The threatening presence of the Philistines is countered and quickly dismantled by means of mockery and humiliation. Stories of victorious battles are replaced by those of a fallen Philistine god destroyed by God, too many hemorrhoids to count or cure, and a formidable Goliath soundly beaten at his own game – by a mere boy no less. The Philistines are easily terrified and divided as they flee from battle. The use of biblical narrative to disempower such a formidable enemy is a striking literary and theological accomplishment. Legends, mockery and battle scenes depicting anxious and

Warriors and kings  129 easily fragmented Philistines allay the fears of the Israelites, strengthening, at least temporarily, their loyalty to YHWH. The Philistine king Achish is largely exempted from this mockery. While he might be considered foolish for protecting David, Achish saves David’s life, first from Saul, and then from his fellow Philistines, unwittingly protecting God’s beloved. By ensuring David’s survival, Achish grants David a future in which he will become king of a united Israel. This is also true of another man from Gath, Ittai, who supports David during the dark days of Abshalom’s revolt against him.32 David could not succeed as Israel’s greatest king without them. David sets up a valuable precedent of turning adversaries into indispensable allies. The startling fact that David has Philistine allies too often gets hidden in tales of war. Battles between the two peoples reinforce Israelite unity and provide a dramatic backdrop for the emergence of the first two kings of Israel. The measure of each man’s skills, bravery and judgment can be gauged through their battles against the Philistines. Those battles illustrate the rise and fall of Saul, his indecision and tragedy, as well as the courage and recklessness of Jonathan, his son and would-be successor. Contra Saul, David is glorified by means of the Philistines. He slays Goliath, routs and subdues the Philistines, and seems to dupe a Philistine king. Nowhere is the contrast between Saul and David more profound than in the presence or absence of Philistines in the career of each king. Because Saul permits the Philistines to return to their homes, he ensures that the battles between the two peoples dominate the remainder of his rule until his end. For most of David’s reign, the Philistines are strangely absent. Encounters with Philistines also contribute to the characterization of God. The Philistines ‘know’ this God of Israel firsthand. In common with the Israelites, they witness God’s sometimes cruel and unpredictable behavior.33 God subjects the Philistines to a divine plague while smiting thousands of Israelites in Beit-Shemesh. God also treats Saul cruelly. Repeatedly tormented by God’s silence, Saul endures divine abandonment during his greatest crises on the battlefield. When God is present, things get even worse for Saul. “Saul knows the demonic side of God not only through divine absence, but also, paradoxically, through YHWH’s persecuting presence in the form of an evil spirit.”34 Neither God’s role in the anointment of Israelite kings nor the many tales of war between the Philistines and the Israelites can conceal God’s strangeness. Glimpses of God’s darker behavior haunt these tales. Both God and Israel require Philistines in order for their characters to emerge. And indeed they are always there to fight. Neither side permanently vanquishes the other. As noted by Jobling and Rose: Israel’s victories over the Philistines are heavily fantasized . . . the victories are by individual heroes against absurd odds, and they seem to have no lasting effect. The broader picture is of Israelite and Philistine armies

130  Living in the land confronting each other on a relatively equal basis, with victory going sometimes to one side, sometimes the other. . . .35 No more poignant image of what Philistines and Israelites have in common exists than the humiliating treatment of each side’s dead after battle. Images of Philistine heads and foreskins cut off and Philistine corpses serving as food for birds and wild beasts exist in these tales alongside the corpses of a headless Saul and his sons pinned to the wall of Beit-Shean. The two peoples are not always at war, however. An ongoing relationship of mutual interests is within their reach. An alternative account haunts the interstices of these tales. Philistine elders and priests are familiar with stories of the Israelite past and hold the Israelite God in great respect. Glimpses of a shared humanity and identification can be found in the ways in which the Philistines and the Israelites act to preserve their economic well-being through commercial and peaceful interactions, and attempt to live free of fear and physical discomfort. Individuals from Gath are crucial to David’s longevity and success. Whatever some ancient biblical writers might have hoped, the Philistines were there to stay. Having once quietly lived side by side instead of in the havoc and waste of war, could the Philistines and Israelites choose to do so again?

Notes 1 Jacob Wright, “Military Valor and Kingship: A Book-Oriented Approach to the Study of a Major War Theme,” in Writing and Reading War Rhetoric, Gender and Ethics in Biblical and Modern Contexts, eds. Brad Kelle and Frank Ames (Atlanta: SBL, 2008), 55, cites the importance of war as a means of legitimating a king in Israel. 2 A sampling of works that focus on history and text are listed in the order of their publication: Steven L. McKenzie, King David: A Biography (Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press, 2000); Baruch Halpern, David’s Secret Demons Messiah Murderer Traitor King (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2001); Joel Baden, The Historical David: The Real Life of an Invented Hero (New York: HarperCollins, 2013); and Jacob L. Wright, David, King of Israel and Caleb in Biblical Memory (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014). 3 Ibid., 224. Italics are his. 4 Tod Linafelt, Claudia V. Camp and Timothy Beal, “Introduction: On David and David,” in The Fate of King David The Past and Present of a Biblical Icon, eds. Tod Linafelt, Claudia V. Camp and Timothy Beal (New York, London: T & T Clark, 2010), xiv. 5 Robert Alter, Ancient Israel: The Former Prophets: Joshua, Judges, Samuel and Kings (New York, W. W. Norton and Company, 2013), 264, n. 4. 6 For the argument that the human body represents the borders of a community see Mary Douglas, Purity and Danger (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1966). For the role of toilet humor in subverting authority see Mikhail Bakhtin, Rabelais and His World, trans. Helene Iswolsky (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1984). 7 Baden, The Historical David, 260 claims: “No Philistine would have thought to describe himself as such; he would have been an Ekronite, an Ashkelonite, an

Warriors and kings  131 Ashdodite.” Baden’s comment accounts for the quick fragmentation of a unified Philistine front. 8 For details of the Ark’s story see Halpern, David’s Secret Demons, 290–292. 9 Robert Polzin, Samuel and the Deuteronomist: A Literary Study of the Deuteronomic History Part Two I Samuel (Bloomington, Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1989), 72. 10 Ibid., 5. 11 Ibid., 65. 12 Alter, Ancient Israel, 289 n. 5. Lukasz Niesiolowski-Spano, Goliath’s Legacy Philistines and Hebrews in Biblical Times, trans. Maria Kantor (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2016), 32 points out “many elements indicating that the settlements of the Philistines and other immigrants were not concentrated only along the Mediterranean coast but reached deep inland.” 13 David Jobling and Catherine Rose, “Reading as a Philistine: The Ancient and Modern History of a Cultural Slur,” in Ethnicity and the Bible, ed. Mark G. Brett (Boston, Leiden: Brill Academic Publishers, 2002), 397. 14 Trans. Robert Alter. McKenzie, King David: A Biography, 74 contrasts the gear, weaponry and head covering of a warrior during the alleged period of Goliath with the inaccurate biblical description which functions “to impress upon the reader the fearsomeness and apparent invincibility of the Philistine in contrast to David. . . .” 15 Baden, The Historical David, 84. 16 McKenzie, King David: A Biography, 93. 17 Alter, Ancient Israel, 368, n. 15. 18 Wright, David, King of Israel, 33. 19 Ibid., 221. 20 For a plausible reconstruction, see Wright, David, King of Israel, 39–41, 108. 21 Baden, The Historical David, 101 calls David a raider, outlaw and mercenary and argues that David would fit the description of a habiru found in other materials such as the Amarna Letters. 22 Ibid., 99–100. 23 Ibid., 112–128. On this point see also McKenzie, King David: A Biography, 45. 24 This period in David’s life, especially his relationships with the villages of Judah, is explored in Baden, The Historical David, 100–101 and McKenzie, King David: A Biography, 107. 25 See Halpern, David’s Secret Demons, 23–24 for a concise summary of this episode and 288–289 for a description of David’s time in Philistine territory. Halpern highlights the biblical writers’ embarrassment concerning David’s period as a vassal to Achish and the ‘spin’ that covers that up, 295. 26 The phrase “quaked with fear” is that of Alter, Ancient Israel, 420, n. 3. 27 Robert Polzin, David and the Deuteronomist (Bloomington, Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1993), 34–35. 28 Niesiolowski-Spano, Goliath’s Legacy, 178 summarizes David’s long-term relationships, and his stay, among non-Israelites: “his alliance with Achish of Gath and his stay in Ziklag as well as his desire to have ‘foreign’ guards, his familydynastic relations with the Geshurites (Hebron) and his choice of Jerusalem as the capital of his state.” 29 For a reconstruction of David’s relationship with the Philistines based on recent archeological studies, see Gershon Galil, “David, King of Israel, Between the Arameans and the Northern and Southern Sea Peoples in Light of New Epigraphic and Archaeological Data,” in Internationales Jahrbuch fur die Altertumskunde Syrien-Palastinas (Germany: Herstellung: Hubert and Co, 2013). Galil, 168, concludes: David’s empire is a realistic historical phenomenon and the biblical description of its formation and consolidation is possible and reasonable. It reflects

132  Living in the land the great struggle between the Arameans and the Sea Peoples for the inheritance of the territories . . . David took advantage of the conflicts between the Arameans and the Sea Peoples, and united the northern and the southern Sea Peoples against the mutual enemy, Hadadezer, king of Aram-Aobah . . . David managed not only in resolving the conflict with the southern Philistines (following the unification of Israel and Judah under his rule), but also to transform them from enemies to allies. Galil’s reconstruction does not address the diminishment of the Philistine role in 2 Samuel once David is king. 30 Jobling and Rose, “Reading as a Philistine,” 406–407. 31 Additional discussion of these foreign mercenaries can be found in Wright, David, King of Israel, 113 and 121–122. For an insightful description of David’s reliance on Ittai see Francis Landy, “David and Ittai,” in The Fate of King David: The Past and Present of a Biblical Icon, eds. Tod Linafelt, Claudia V. Camp and Timothy Beal (New York, London: T & T Clark, 2010), 20–23. 32 When David fought Abshalom, he had the support of the Cherethites and Pelethites, most of them Philistine mercenaries, as pointed out by Gershon Galil, “David and Hazael: War, Peace, Stones and Memory,” in Palestine Exploration Quarterly 139, 2 (2007): 81. 33 Danna Nolan Fewell, “A Broken Halleluljah: Remembering David, Justice, and the Cost of the House,” in The Fate of King David: The Past and Present of a Biblical Icon, eds. Tod Linafelt, Claudia V. Camp and Timothy Beal (New York, London: T & T Clark, 2010), 120–122 develops a theologically unpalatable portrait of God. 34 J. Cheryl Exum and J. William Whedbee, “Isaac, Samson and Saul: Reflections on the Comic and Tragic Vision,” in Tragedy and Comedy in the Bible Semeia 32 (Decatur, GA: Scholars Press, 1985): 34. 35 Jobling and Rose, “Reading as a Philistine,” 403.

6 Solomon and his neighbors

In contrast to Saul’s son Jonathan, who dies alongside his father on Mt. Gilboa, Solomon successfully inherits the kingdom of Israel and Judah from his father David. Solomon will continue David’s decidedly mixed legacy, though he begins his reign promisingly enough. Solomon’s story, over eleven chapters of 1 Kings, illustrates his magnificent wealth and even greater wisdom. More significantly, Solomon builds God a House in Jerusalem. He appears to be an exemplary king, his people flourishing, his territory secure. Solomon also takes his place among his counterparts from other lands. Perhaps he grows to admire his contemporaries too much. According to the biblical narrative of his reign, especially in his last days, Solomon acts and behaves increasingly like the kings of other peoples, rather than as a servant of YHWH and builder of God’s House. Solomon becomes a strange king and a self estranged from his own people. Like David before him, Solomon appears to be successful at establishing beneficial alliances with rulers of other peoples. Unlike David, whose ambiguous alliance with Achish occurred while he was a fugitive on the run, Solomon’s alliance with Hiram of Tyre reflects the practice of statecraft and occurs in an official capacity. His interactions with the Queen of Sheba greatly benefit his reign, personal wealth and reputation. As the Hebrew Bible’s great cosmopolitan king, Solomon inhabits a larger arena in which to operate and greater economic opportunities. Discerning allies from enemies becomes both more urgent and more profitable. Reciprocal curiosity and good will pervade these alliances rather than suspicion and violence. At the same time, like Samson before him, Solomon’s interest in strangers and their ways, especially strange women, inexorably leads him astray (as anticipated in Deuteronomy 17:17). He takes numerous non-Israelite women as wives and concubines. Not only that, but he builds shrines to the gods of some of his wives in his capital, Jerusalem. A much later king, Josiah, feels compelled to distance himself from Solomon and purify Jerusalem and its environs from the shrines to those other gods that “Solomon King of Israel built for the Ashtoreth, abomination of the Sidonians and for Chemosh, abomination of Moab and for Milcom, the detestable thing of the children of Amon” (2 Kings 23:13).

134  Living in the land Taken as a whole, the benefits of Solomon’s rule as well as the consequences of his more problematic actions fall equally on the people Israel, whose unification is shattered after Solomon’s death, and on the king, whose reign ends in failure. The rich characterization of Solomon as a cosmopolitan king exposes the ambivalence that has colored relationships between Israelites and strangers in biblical narratives throughout this study. Ronald Hendel argues that the range of perspectives – political and ideological, pious and exaggerated – in Solomon’s narrative create an overall ‘effect of the real.’ But the splendid biblical details of the king’s reign are not to be confused with an accurate historical account in all its particulars. The biblical narrative of Solomon’s reign is a perspective on the past – or better, a congeries or pastiche of perspectives – and is not the past itself . . . This text is a conflation of many historical memories, some perhaps harking back to Solomon’s rule, others derived from . . . later kings.1 David Jobling examines the notion of Solomon’s reign as a golden age reinforced by mythic elements. Jobling points out an inherent contradiction in the concept: If the Golden Age represented the absolute ideal, then it could not have come to an end. For if it came to an end, there must have been something in it that was susceptible of change, of turning into its opposite . . . Thus any depiction of a primal Golden Age will contain, and can be analyzed to expose, elements or germs of that diminished, ‘real,’ present world to which it is supposed to stand in utter contrast; the contrast between ‘ideal’ and ‘real’ must inevitably prove partial, forced, artificial.2 Jobling’s identification of a contrast between the ideal and the real aptly fits Solomon’s story. Obvious contradictions exist between a description of gold and luxury items, Solomon’s reputation, and the harmony and well-being he creates among the people Israel and cracks in the story: forced labor, a disparity between the community and its king in terms of wealth and prosperity, and the king’s all too successful mimicking of fellow kings in marrying foreign women and worshipping their gods. Recent archeological discoveries dated to the period of Solomon reinforce the gap between the historical figure who remains elusive and his biblical characterization. Traces of Solomon’s rule exist but the distance between what is excavated and what is described in the biblical account suggests that a literary rendering and a simultaneous glorification and critique of Solomon’s reign rather than an eyewitness report were already underway in the period of the text’s composition and redaction.3 Aspects of each approach inform my analysis of Solomon’s story. I intend to read 1 Kings 1–11, especially Solomon’s portrayal and his ongoing interactions with strangers, as a literary description of a golden age in Israel (Jobling)

Solomon and his neighbors  135 that conflates historical and collective memories (Hendel), while noting recent archeological results where pertinent.

The reign of King Solomon: The early days The succession from David to Solomon in the opening chapters of 1 Kings is hardly smooth. Nonetheless, as a result of a series of rapid machinations, his brother Adonijah is dead. Solomon is ready to rule. Among the supporters of Solomon’s succession are the Cherethites and the Pelethites, guards of Philistine origin (1 Kings 1:38) in David’s court. In other words, David’s long-standing ties with Philistines continue after his death in Solomon’s early reign. A king of Gath even reappears thanks to Solomon’s enemy Shimei. Solomon rids himself of Shimei after he violates a prohibition on travel by attempting to retrieve slaves who escape to Achish, son of Maacah, king of Gath. In acting, Solomon not only rids himself of an enemy but benefits Achish! The association of David, and now Solomon, with a king of Gath hovers suspiciously in the background of these stories, suggesting an ongoing but obscured connection between the house of David and the Philistines. Other less compromising and more public connections and alliances will occur as Solomon moves out of his father’s shadow and secures his rule as king. To secure that rule Solomon takes a series of ruthless steps that challenge the later laudatory stories of his reign.4 Fearing that Solomon will kill him, David’s dedicated and problematic commander Joab grabs hold of the horns of the altar, an accepted form of sanctuary that should force Solomon to forego his plans. Instead Solomon instructs his servant in the briefest of commands: “Go, stab him” (1 Kings 2:30). Refusing to release the horns of the altar, Joab is killed by Benaiah in a violation of the rules of sanctuary. This deed is narrated without comment, but stands on its own as an early sign of Solomon’s behavior as king. Nor will others be spared until Solomon does away with his father’s enemies and his own. Without a hint of irony 1 Kings 2:46 concludes: “And the kingdom was unshaken in Solomon’s hand.”5 Such a secure kingdom leads to the idea of Solomon’s wisdom, but these examples illustrate a particular brand of wisdom: “Machiavellian cunning, street wisdom, a shrewd understanding of how to survive in a dangerous environment, of how to strike an enemy and get way with it.”6 After becoming king, Solomon forms alliances with outside powers through marriage. Such political marriages are common in other kingdoms. Solomon illustrates his knowledge of those practices by mimicking them. But the sheer number of outside wives becomes a notorious aspect of Solomon’s rule and another sign of his excess. That notoriety begins with Solomon’s first wife, the daughter of the pharaoh of Egypt.7 Considering that an earlier pharaoh of Egypt attempted to kill off all male Israelites, such an alliance would presumably make some of Solomon’s followers uneasy, at least those familiar with the earlier tale.

136  Living in the land Taken together, the opening chapters of 1 Kings highlight traits and tendencies in Solomon – ruthlessness, disregard for accepted protocols, reliance on Philistine guards, and multiple marriages to strange women – that later result in significant criticism of his reign as king. They also hint at a real, rather than ideal, king.

The wisdom of Solomon In appreciation of the mutual benefit of international alliances Solomon forges an expansive and tolerant policy toward strangers and their cultures. Solomon’s association with wisdom literature, widespread at the time from Babylon to Egypt, provides an example.8 Egyptian texts define wisdom as “instruction in the art of being successful in public affairs.”9 No better example of such success can be found biblically than in the character of King Solomon. Aspects of ‘wisdom’ that Solomon exemplifies include political astuteness, judicial insight and an encyclopedic knowledge. Proof of wisdom’s importance comes from the repeated appearance of versions of the root, no less than nineteen times, in 1 Kings 3–11, but nowhere else in the books of Kings.10 Andre Lemaire documents the extent of Solomon’s association with wisdom. In addition to justice and political acumen, wisdom in Solomon’s story is reflected in good administration, skillful construction and the ‘art of speaking well.’11 These dimensions of wisdom are not unique to Solomon but “are common to both Solomonic and royal ancient near eastern historiography show[ing] clearly the extent to which 1 Kings 3–11 is rooted in royal near eastern ideology and propaganda, including the high value placed on the king’s ‘wisdom.’ ”12 Many passages reflect admiration of this trait in Solomon. Yet taken as a whole, Solomon’s story, and especially his end, reveal a highly skeptical view of international wisdom. Solomon’s fate becomes a strong warning against intimate participation in ‘strange’ ideas. As if to neutralize the tension between Solomon as a representative of an international phenomenon such as wisdom and as a uniquely Israelite king and ‘servant’ of YHWH, God sanctions Solomon’s close association with wisdom as a divine gift: Behold I give you a wise and discerning heart so that no one was like you before; nor after you no one will rise like you. And also since you did not ask I will give you wealth and honor the like of which no king has ever had. 1 Kings 3:12–13 God associates wisdom with wealth and honor. But it is precisely the connections between wisdom, wealth and honor in Solomon’s life that lead him farther and farther away from YHWH until a final estrangement.13

Solomon and his neighbors  137 At least initially, Solomon relies on his wisdom to establish a wellorganized royal court. Various officials that serve Solomon include priests, scribes, a recorder, the head of the army, a companion to the king and those in charge of the prefects, the palace and forced labor. This royal structure culminates in the appointment of prefects to rule over all of Israel as well as Amorite lands. Solomon’s rule extends from the Euphrates to the land of the Philistines and the boundary of Egypt. Joel Baden labels the result “a true national administration.”14 The mixture of bureaucratic statements and pride in the growing empire of this king is palpable. Solomon is far more organized and established than his predecessors Saul and David. Not only does Solomon benefit from his success but so do all his people: “And dwelt Judah and Israel in safety, everyone under his own vine and under his own fig tree from Dan to Beer Sheva all the days of Solomon” (1 Kings 5:5). Solomon’s acquisition of numerous horses and chariots secure that safety. In just a few chapters Solomon has acquired substantial territory and obtained peace, security and wealth (the latter primarily for himself) on behalf of his people. Note how radically different is this portrait of Solomon’s rule than that of Saul who spent many of his days torn apart by paranoia and a sense of betrayal, beset on all sides by fierce enemies he could not conquer, including David. Instability and volatility disrupted the reign of David as well, especially within his own house. In contrast, Solomon succeeds in providing stability to his people. A positive view of the king from outside the land also focuses on Solomon’s wisdom. It is greater than that of the Kedemites (those from the east) and the Egyptians. 1 Kings 5:14 describes the many peoples, sent by their kings, who arrive in Jerusalem to hear Solomon. In so doing, other kings acknowledge that Solomon’s wisdom supersedes their own. The sweeping statement of 1 Kings 5:14 expands the view of particular strangers we have observed so far – Midianites, Canaanites, Philistines – to embrace all peoples. At this stage in the narrative, Solomon’s wisdom has created a stable coexistence for Israel with other peoples while placing the king on an international stage. Not only are strangers non-threatening, but they affirm this king’s exceptional qualities. Wisdom, not military prowess, has strengthened Solomon’s legitimacy as king.

King Hiram of Tyre What immediately follows the outpouring of adoration in 1 Kings 5:14 is an illustration of its consequence in 5:15–26: the story of Solomon’s beneficial relationship with one particular stranger, King Hiram of Tyre.15 Hiram is introduced in 2 Samuel 5:11 as an acquaintance of David, thus not so strange. As we have seen, David knows how to forge and exploit alliances with leaders of other peoples. Solomon continues the practice. He requests

138  Living in the land cedars from the forests of Lebanon in order to build a House for YHWH. A building project is closely associated with wisdom, especially for kings. Ancient kings known for their wisdom, rulers like Hammurabi, displayed that wisdom not just by executing justice but also by building, and many ancient Near Eastern inscriptions attest to the idea that the greatest of buildings – the temple or the palace – required the wisdom of the gods themselves to complete, the same wisdom that the gods used to design the world. The wisdom that God gave to Solomon seems to have made him a master builder.16 Solomon’s wisdom extends to his ability to identify the most useful neighbor for his project. King Hiram of Tyre possesses the finest wood and the most skilled labor. Solomon explicitly acknowledges, and praises, the resources and skills of the people of Phoenicia. He pays King Hiram not only for the wood but also for the laborers who cut it down “for you know that we have no one who knows to cut trees like the Sidonians” (1 Kings 5:20). His compliment acknowledges a wisdom that is not divine but human, originating not in Israel but in Tyre. He interacts with strangers by agreement and cooperation rather than battle. Mutual respect permeates his relationship with Hiram. Upon hearing Solomon’s offer, King Hiram praises YHWH (I Kings 5:21). As seen in the speeches of Jethro and Rahab, such praise of YHWH creates a positive perception of the stranger of the moment. Arrangements are made quickly. In exchange for the wood Hiram requests wheat and oil. He too benefits from the exchange. To ensure the continuation of such a mutually advantageous arrangement, Hiram and Solomon formalize their relationship: “And YHWH gave wisdom to Solomon as He had said to him and there was peace between Hiram and Solomon and the two of them established a covenant” (1 Kings 5:26). Thus is Solomon’s wisdom illustrated through his well-placed reliance on Hiram and in the treaty they establish. However, another consequence is more negative. Solomon imposes labor on his people in order to deal with the wood shipments and to quarry stone in the hills. Details of the Temple are effective in impressing the reader with the ambition of its builders as well as the beauty of its interior, the gold of the Altar, and the magnificence of its design. Solomon does nothing in a modest way, but rather in a public fashion designed to impress. The Temple is completed in 1 Kings 6:38 in the month of Bul, a name that originates with the Phoenicians. The use of the Phoenician term suggests just how close Solomon is to Hiram, with whom he extensively interacts. Not one but two building projects – God’s House and that of the king – as well as their elaborate descriptions, reinforce the power and splendor of Solomon’s reign. But in a hint of what is to come, in the middle of the Temple’s description God reminds Solomon in 1 Kings 6:12–13: “This House

Solomon and his neighbors  139 that you are building – if you follow in my laws and observe my rules and keep my commandments to walk in them, I will establish my word with you that I spoke to David your father and I will dwell among the children of Israel and will not abandon my people Israel.” Such an insertion carries significant weight in understanding the unfolding plot of Solomon’s reign and where it is headed. The statement establishes a divine condition. If Solomon fails to follow God’s rules, divine abandonment will follow. In other words, if Solomon forgets what makes him an Israelite – the laws and rules of YHWH – he will fail. The divine admonition, in the midst of all his plans, warns Solomon that devotion to YHWH takes precedence over elaborate buildings and excessive ornamentation, even if such a building secures Solomon’s reputation among other non-Israelite kings. Perhaps the statement, in the midst of anticipation of God’s new House, also reflects an ambivalence fueled by nostalgia for the simplicity of God’s prior dwelling, a tent easily set up and dismantled during the years of wandering. Solomon industriously carries on with his building projects, adding other additions to the Temple and Solomon’s House in 1 Kings 7. The list includes a Lebanon Forest House, perhaps an armory, the court of the Throne, the court of Justice and a house for the daughter of Pharaoh. Each building is made of costly stones. Solomon uses architecture to materially represent the splendor of a reign already made brilliant through wisdom. In so doing, he mimics the outside peoples who have their own glorious temples, palaces, buildings and capital cities. Indeed, how different is such a model than the tents in which both God and the people dwelt for so long. At the same time, Solomon is building a unique Israelite city: Jerusalem. The description of his project is a first within biblical narrative. Via Jerusalem, Solomon builds a nation and unifies the people Israel under his rule. His city represents the essential values of worship of YHWH and security. Each time an Israelite moves through Solomon’s city those values, and the king’s rule, are reinforced. No longer do the people need admire the cities of Egypt, or those of the Philistines. Thanks to Solomon, they have their own grand city: Jerusalem. The writer’s critical observation of the extent to which Solomon mimics the buildings and cities of outsiders, while glorifying in the results, captures the ambivalence that runs through the narratives of his reign. A puzzling reference to Hiram of Tyre follows because the writer gives us information we did not have in his first introduction as a king in 1 Kings 5:15–26. It is not even clear that this Hiram is the same person. In 1 Kings 7:13 he is simply called Hiram of Tyre. This Hiram’s mother comes from the tribe of Naphtali while his father is a coppersmith in Tyre. It would be unlikely that the King of Tyre was Israelite in his origins or that his father would be a craftsman, however skilled.17 The new information is polemical in nature. A partial Israelite origin would legitimate the close relationship between Hiram of Tyre and Solomon as well as Hiram’s influence and

140  Living in the land intimate involvement in constructing the holiest building of the Israelites, a building in which God is said to dwell.18 Whether as king or craftsman, Hiram is at least partially an outsider and a stranger. It is worthy of note, then, that the verb used to describe Hiram’s completion of his labors echoes none other than God’s completion of the work of creation. Genesis 2:2a states: “And God completed on the seventh day His work that He did.” 1 Kings 7:40b states: “And Hiram completed the doing of the work that he did for King Solomon on the House of YHWH.” The echo of God’s creation in Genesis in Hiram’s creation of the Temple is yet another example of legitimating strangers, making them less strange in the eyes of the people Israel when they become allies of the Israelites. Like Jethro, Rahab and Achish before him, Hiram becomes a crucial figure in implementing God’s plans for the Israelites. Immediately after Hiram completes his task, Solomon takes over to provide the implements and furnishings of the “House of YHWH,” especially the sockets of the doors of the innermost part of the Holy of Holies (1 Kings 7:50). A building project has its politics. Hiram does an enormous amount of work in building Solomon’s Temple, but the most intimate objects of the House of YHWH, especially the site in which God is said to appear, the Holy of Holies, are completed by Solomon: “And all the work that King Solomon did on the House of YHWH was concluded” (1 Kings 7:51a). The final word in this verse is different than the word used of God’s actions in Genesis and those of Hiram. “Concluded” replaces “completed.” Solomon seals the labor. It is done. What follows is a grand public spectacle. Yet in the background is an alliance between Solomon and Hiram, made more palatable by the suggestion that Hiram is half-Israelite and connected by his creative acts to Israel’s God.

The dedication of the House of YHWH Solomon is well on his way to establishing himself as a model king in the “conceptual frame of ancient Near Eastern and Israelite royal ideology.”19 1 Kings 8 reacts to this emerging portrait by arguing that what marks Solomon as a uniquely Israelite king is his identity as a servant of YHWH. Throughout the chapter, Solomon illustrates his knowledge of Israelite rules, customs and history. He cherishes that history, especially the leadership of Moses and God’s liberation of the people from the Egyptians. As the first king to succeed David, Solomon confirms the promise of YHWH that a line of David will outlive David himself. An emphasis on Solomon’s piety and his belief in the efficacy of prayer attempts to replace his early ruthlessness with a more appealing characterization. In all these ways Solomon merits being the king of Israel, a claim reinforced through the public spectacle of what follows: ritual, a royal speech and sacrifices. 1 Kings 8 is an ideological work. Not only does the chapter establish Solomon as the unquestioned king of Israel, but ensures that YHWH is the only

Solomon and his neighbors  141 source of Solomon’s authority. YHWH is so pleased with Solomon’s Temple that YHWH’s glory and Name will now dwell among the Israelites in a House in Solomon’s capital, Jerusalem. God’s presence in the House built by Solomon will greatly reinforce not only Solomon’s legitimacy but also the unity of the people Israel in service to YHWH. The passage echoes the covenant ceremony of the people as described in the book of Joshua after they cross the Jordan and begin their lives in the Promised Land. A reminder of that crossing in this grand spectacle signals its aim has been accomplished and that a new period in the life of the people Israel has arrived with the consecration of the Temple. 1 Kings 8 is long and somewhat meandering but its structure can be detected in an opening gathering of the people; the all-important arrival of the Ark and its placement in the Temple in Jerusalem; the central section of the chapter that includes Solomon’s blessing, an address about the efficacy of prayer and supplication, especially if directed to the House Solomon built for YHWH in Jerusalem, and further blessings; a dedication that fittingly replaces words with actions; and a conclusion in which the people return to their homes. The following outline reveals the structure of 1 Kings 8 as chiastic, with the X highlighting the chapter’s key message. A Opening gathering  1 Kings 8:1–5a B Sacrifices, the Ark is placed in the Temple in Jerusalem  1 Kings 8:5b–13 C Solomon’s blessing  1 Kings 8:14–26 X Solomon’s address  1 Kings 8:27–53 C’ Solomon’s blessing  1 Kings 8:54–61 B’ Dedication of the Temple, further sacrifices  1 Kings 8:62–65 A’ The people disperse to their homes  1 Kings 8:66 As this structure illustrates, Solomon’s words (particularly his address) clearly dominate the chapter.20 Both in blessing and addressing the people, Solomon, or more accurately, the writer of the chapter, introduces key Deuteronomic concerns and language.21 Solomon is a more fitting king for Israel than his father. God’s role and uniqueness, David’s inability to build the Temple, and especially Solomon’s consequent success in doing so, are made clear. The address carefully raises and answers questions about the significance of God’s House as a focus of the people and a unifying force in times of distress and joy. In the midst of a series of speeches, strangers are referred to in both positive and negative ways, continuing the ambivalent discourse seen in prior biblical narratives. In what follows, I will highlight a few key aspects of the Temple’s dedication and the polemical shaping of Solomon into a suitable Israelite king. The above structure organizes the order of my comments. The narrator begins in a very methodical way by listing the key players whose support is needed by Solomon. These include the heads of the tribes and the ancestral chiefs of the Israelites. The Hebrew of verse 1 makes it

142  Living in the land clear that they are being gathered “to the king, Solomon, in Jerusalem.” I read the simple phrase as making the point: his power base will come to him, in Jerusalem, reinforcing Solomon’s association with Jerusalem as the capital of a unified people. The Ark of the Covenant will be brought from David’s city in Zion to Jerusalem. The shift in names from the city of David to Jerusalem suggests an explicit, conscious transition generationally and geographically. At that very moment Solomon, not David, fulfills the promise of YHWH to build God’s house. The gathering of Israelites and the gathering of the Ark in the same place reinforce that point. 1 Kings 8:5b–13 focuses more specifically on the Ark. The priests bring the Ark to its place in the Holy of Holies. The House is mentioned for the first time in the episode. The rather subtle inclusion of ‘house’ draws our attention to the point of the whole story. Solomon has succeeded in bringing the Ark to its resting place in a permanent building. As put by Steven Weitzman, the Ark’s “entrance into the Holy of Holies was like putting a plug in a socket, activating the Temple with divine energy.”22 After the Ark’s arrival, Solomon dramatically stands in front of the Altar and spreads his palms to the heavens in 1 Kings 8:22. He asserts the uniqueness of YHWH. No other is like God in the heavens or the earth (1 Kings 8:23). What makes this God unique? YHWH observes the covenant and shows loyalty to His servants who walk before God with all their hearts. Solomon asks that God continue to keep the divine promise, made to ‘David my father’ and ensure that David’s descendants, beginning with Solomon, continue to rule throughout the generations. By reminding God of the divine promise, Solomon hopes to make it so even if a conditional note is inserted. God announces that the promise will only be fulfilled “if your children will observe their paths to walk before Me as you have walked before Me” (1 Kings 8:25b). Solomon continues to explore the question of God’s uniqueness. With a rhetorical flourish he asks in 1 Kings 8:27: “Can God really dwell on the earth?” The many verses that follow surprisingly answer that question in the negative. While Solomon refers to the people directing their prayers to God’s House, God hears them from the heavens (verses 34, 36, 39, 43, 45, 49). Jon Levenson accounts for the numerous references: “This theology of the Temple as a place of prayer is implicitly a polemic against the idea that God is literally, even physically present therein . . . God’s true dwelling [is] the heavens, from which he hears the prayers uttered on earth.”23 The repeated refrain emphasizes that God will not be contained in a House, even one built by Solomon. Solomon next establishes his humility. “Servant” appears four times in 1 Kings 8: 27–30, reinforcing Solomon’s role as ‘servant’ of YHWH even more so than ‘king’ of Israel. It is precisely that tension, between ‘servant’ and ‘king,’ that builds over the rest of Solomon’s reign until the breaking point. But in the moment Solomon weighs in as a servant, emphasizing the House he built for YHWH as the focal point of collective and individual

Solomon and his neighbors  143 prayer and supplication. “Prayer” or “praying” appears 15 times.24 “Supplication” appears seven times.25 Solomon’s use of these key words highlights and reinforces the primary mission of God’s House while expanding the ways in which the people can express their relationship to YHWH beyond sacrifices alone. Relying neither on priest nor prophet, Solomon essentially becomes the people’s conduit to God. 1 Kings 8:41–43 singles out the foreigner who does not belong to the people Israel but has heard of God’s powers: And also the foreigner who is not among your people Israel but comes from a distant land for the sake of Your Name: they who hear of Your great name and Your strong hand and Your outstretched arm and come and pray at this House, You will hear in the Heavens from your secure dwelling and do all that the foreigner calls upon you so that all the peoples of the earth will know Your name to fear you like Your people Israel, to know that Your name has been called upon this House which I built. Beginning with the Exodus from Egypt, throughout the wanderings, and after the people cross into the land, God is preoccupied with the divine reputation among other nations. Moses exploited God’s concern with other peoples in reining in God’s anger against the Israelites. Solomon now shrewdly assures God that the peoples of the world will indeed know YHWH thanks to the building of the House. The very last word of the announcement, “I built,” makes the most crucial point clear. God has Solomon to thank for the accomplishment of the divine goal. The inclusion of foreigners in this speech suggests Solomon’s ongoing awareness of other peoples as depicted in prior chapters of 1 Kings. Alter reminds us that those encounters include “cordial relations, political, commercial and marital, with surrounding nations.”26 Yet the only other time the word “foreigner” appears in 1 Kings (and not at all in 2 Kings) is ominous. 1 Kings 11:1 states “And the King Solomon loved many foreign women.” 1 Kings 11:8 returns to these foreign wives to explain that after building shrines for the gods of Moab, Molech and the Ammonites, Solomon did the same “for all his foreign wives.” Those acts lead to Solomon’s disgrace and downfall. It is striking that a mere three chapters after building the Temple, Solomon builds altars to strange gods. But 1 Kings 8 already reveals doubts about foreigners. Immediately after the positive image of a foreigner flocking to the House built for YHWH, Solomon introduces the reality of enemies and of war, “when your people take to war against its enemy in the path that you send them on” (1 Kings 8:44a). Read together, 1 Kings 8:41–44 and 1 Kings 11 capture both the palpable desire for a positive relationship with strangers and Israelite mistrust of them. Poignantly, in the long concluding verses of this unit, Solomon anticipates not only an Israelite defeat in battle, but exile. Strangers become the

144  Living in the land agents of God’s decision to exile the Israelites. Hence strangers are associated with tragedy and loss. 1 Kings 8:46–47 announces both the inevitability of sin and a familiar Deuteronomic assumption that God delivers the Israelites into the hands of their enemies due to those sins. The Israelites will become captives in an enemy land. But in a pun on the root of “captive,” if the Israelites “return” to God in their hearts in those strange lands in supplication and confession, and if they direct such supplications to the city God has chosen for God’s House, then God may forgive them. Notably, Solomon’s words do not end with the people’s restoration in their land but in a plea that the enemy treats the people with mercy in exile (1 Kings 8:50). The conclusion of 1 Kings 8 makes clear that Solomon has accomplished what he set out to do: “and the King and all the children of Israel dedicated the house of YHWH” (1 Kings 8:63).27 The entire people take part, thereby invested with the king in God’s House. The celebration lasts 14 days accompanied by sacrifices, sanctification and feasting. A successful and very public performance has secured Solomon’s rule as king and given God a House. The king has publicly affirmed the enduring nature of God’s relationship with Solomon and the people. Solomon’s dedication of the Temple succeeds in making his case. The people Israel can rest assured that they have a king who is not like the kings of other peoples. References to the unique narrative of Israel, to its leader Moses, to injunctions and language familiar from Deuteronomic passages, to Solomon’s piety and especially his repeated praise of YHWH, make Solomon a uniquely Israelite king. The building of the Temple and the king’s grand speech are highlights not only for Solomon’s reign, but signal the highpoint between the Exodus from Egypt and the Exile in Babylon. Weitzman makes the point: The Temple is smack in the middle between Exodus and Exile, hope and despair – always and forever the two storylines of Jewish life – and its construction is precisely that moment when the two experiences converge on one other, the realization of redemption and the beginning of its undoing at the same time.28 That undoing will gain momentum in the remainder of Solomon’s reign. Ironically, its start can be found in Solomon’s building a House for the God of Israel exactly as his foreign counterparts build houses to their gods.29 As Solomon’s narrative unfolds, he continues to obtain horses, take foreign wives, and collect gold and silver to excess, precisely as anticipated in Deuteronomy 17:14–17. Marc Brettler observes that Deuteronomy 17:14–17 defines proper kingship “negatively in terms of the abuses which characterized ancient near eastern kingship.”30 The implication is clear. Solomon has acted improperly and will do so again. What follows in the waning years of Solomon’s reign makes the highpoint of I Kings 8

Solomon and his neighbors  145 a distant memory while adding to the portrait of a king increasingly like those of other nations.

Solomon’s fame Anxiety that Solomon could turn out to be a king like other kings immediately surfaces in 1 Kings 9. God appears to Solomon and signals the divine consecration of the House that Solomon built. At the same time, God soberly warns the king of how easy it will be for Solomon and the people to abandon God. The consequences are spelled out: But if you and your children after you turn away and do not observe my commandments and rules that I have put in front of you but walk after and worship other gods and bow to them, I will cut off Israel from the face of the land that I have given to them and the House which I have sanctified to my Name will I cast out from my face and Israel will be a proverb and a byword among all the nations. . . . It is because they abandoned YHWH their God . . . and embraced other gods. . . . 1 Kings 9:6–7, 9 God has served Solomon notice that the newly built, and now consecrated, House does not ensure the covenant’s preservation. Not only could God abandon the House but other nations would ridicule the people Israel instead of extol their God. There is considerable irony in God’s anticipation of collective idolatry among the Israelites as it is the king who ends up practicing idolatry. He behaves in other problematic ways as well, including with King Hiram. Solomon gives Hiram 20 towns in the Galilee in payment for his aid in building God’s House. Hiram now has a foothold in the territories of Israel. Solomon even builds a fleet partially manned by Hiram’s sailors. Their ongoing commercial dealings with one another are signs of success but also dilute the distinct boundaries between Israel and Tyre, and between Solomon and Hiram. The narrator next refers to the Egyptian pharaoh who destroyed Gezer by fire and killed its Canaanite inhabitants in order to give his daughter a dowry when she married Solomon. The linking of King Hiram with the Egyptian pharaoh reminds Solomon’s people of the king’s ongoing and very intimate connections to strangers as well as their problematic consequences. The portrayal of Solomon as God’s servant has not resolved suspicions of his loyalty to YHWH or his identity as an Israelite king. The final chapters of Solomon’s reign fail to resolve those doubts. Another intriguing stranger, the Queen of Sheba, appears precisely at this moment. The encounter between the queen and the Israelite king is a fine example of the ambivalence in which royal outsiders, and by extension, Solomon’s association with them, are viewed in 1 Kings. If a reputation is the currency in which Solomon, the people Israel and their God YHWH

146  Living in the land seek to be known by the nations of the world, than the queen’s visit provides an opportunity to identify what sort of reputation, and of whom, has been circulating among other peoples. Solomon’s fame and YHWH’s Name reach the queen. In a direct allusion to Samson, who uses a riddle both to test and to flirt with his Philistine companions during a wedding feast, the Queen of Sheba comes to Jerusalem to test Solomon with riddles. A new cross-cultural exchange is about to unfold. It is not entirely clear what the queen wants but the allusion to a riddle suggests that she has a similar mix of curiosity and desire about strangers as that of Samson. Will she be as dangerous to Solomon as Samson was to the Philistines? The queen wants to discover the extent to which Solomon’s reputation has a basis in reality. Weitzman argues that she provides a narrative counterpoint to a widespread, automatic acceptance of Solomon’s wealth and wisdom. The queen is sufficiently skeptical to make the long journey from her country to verify the rumors that have reached her with the proof of direct observation. Weitzman suggests that she mirrors the doubts of later readers of these tales. Perhaps, then, the author of I Kings gives more attention to the Queen than to any other of Solomon’s visitors because he knows that we will recognize ourselves in her; her mind wants to know the secret of things but does so without the illumination of divine wisdom, confined to the realm of observable experience.31 Weitzman’s suggestion highlights the queen’s lack of familiarity with the divine realm. Her praise of Solomon rather than of YHWH is a problem for the biblical writer. On the other hand, the status of the Queen of Sheba as a strange woman, like Zipporah and Rahab before her, suggests that she is about to play a positive role in the life of Israel, or at least its king. The Queen of Sheba creates a formidable impression upon her arrival. A retinue heavy with camels and quantities of spices, gold and precious stones accompanies her. The queen guesses correctly that Solomon will appreciate gold and precious stones because these are typical markers of royal success. Solomon quickly proves his worth to the queen by answering anything she wants to know, thereby confirming his great wisdom. The queen notices her surroundings, especially the House that Solomon built. However it is the house of Solomon rather than that of God that draws her most eager attention. She admiringly observes the food on Solomon’s table, his many attendants and companions, the fine attire of his servants, and his wine service. Her knowledge is that of a worldly woman who can appreciate the finer objects and material possessions of courts and kings. She approves of the man who can acquire and live among such luxury. In 1 Kings 10:5b, the queen also notices Solomon’s sacrifices in the House of YHWH, though almost as an afterthought. Cumulatively, everything she observes leaves the queen breathless.

Solomon and his neighbors  147 The reader is meant to be equally breathless when encountering this description of Solomon’s wealth and lifestyle. Providing an outside perspective, the queen reinforces a view of Solomon as a king of whom the people should be proud. Yet a different sort of impression is simultaneously created in the hurried, almost perfunctory reference to YHWH and sacrifice. The grandeur of Solomon’s house rather than that of God is the main source of the queen’s delight. She recognizes Solomon as a king who very much indulges in the tastes and habits of the strange kings that surround him, and the more conspicuous, the better. Even Solomon’s interest in wisdom and the building of a house for his god are shared international practices in parallel to the habits of other kings. In other words, the queen’s visit marks Solomon’s arrival as a cosmopolitan king. Her visit marks the pinnacle of his worldly success. The Queen of Sheba confirms the suspicion that it is Solomon’s reputation and fame rather than that of God that has gained the attention of other peoples. True was the word that I heard in my land about your words and your wisdom. I did not believe these words until I came and saw with my eyes and behold, what I was told was only half; your wisdom and wealth surpass the report that I heard. Happy are your people, happy are your servants, those standing before you always, listening to your wisdom. 1 Kings 10:6–8 If the queen ceased to speak at that moment, Solomon would be vulnerable to the charge that he had indeed overshadowed and obscured God’s reputation. But her next comment does not repair the situation. She adds praise for YHWH but only because of God’s good sense in appointing Solomon: “May YHWH your God be Blessed who delighted in you to put you on the throne of Israel through love of YHWH for Israel forever and has made you king to do justice and righteousness” (1 Kings 10:9). The concluding pair, justice and righteousness, are values found in Deuteronomic texts. Their use by the Queen of Sheba as well as her mention of the name YHWH twice in the verse is noticeable since it is missing from her other comments. Often an outsider who praises YHWH gains Israelite friendship and approval. Yet the present case is a rather clumsy attempt to rebalance the role of Solomon and his fame versus that of YHWH, the God of Israel. Neither the earlier reference to God’s House and sacrifices nor this latest verse convinces the reader that the Queen of Sheba is impressed with the splendor and power of Israel’s God, but only of its king. Before her departure the queen gives Solomon spices, precious metals and stones. Her gift inspires hyperbole: “Never again was such a quantity of spices given as that from the Queen of Sheba to King Solomon” (1 Kings 10:10b). The use of epithets highlights the exchange from one royal

148  Living in the land personage to another. They conduct themselves as equals. No report, or even hint, of sexual behavior occurs in spite of their mutual attraction.32 Wisdom (1 Kings 10:4) and wealth are eroticized, not sex. Wisdom gives the queen pleasure. Gold satisfies Solomon. In fact, the Queen of Sheba is the only foreign woman mentioned in Solomon’s story who does not marry Solomon or become his consort. King Hiram is abruptly mentioned in the middle of the exchange between Solomon and the queen. Hiram also satiates Solomon’s delight in gold, precious stones and great quantities of a rare wood: “Never has such almug wood been given or even seen again until this day” (1 Kings 10:12b). By including King Hiram’s gifts along with those of the Queen of Sheba, the passage highlights the great monetary benefit for a king who knows how to build such alliances. The presence of both in the same chapter is noteworthy.33 They illustrate that one can have peaceful and fruitful interactions with other leaders. You don’t have to sleep with a foreign woman nor kill a king on your border in order to profit. On the other hand, the queen in particular illustrates Solomon’s success as an admired king within a system in which YHWH is an afterthought. It is not the sort of reputation YHWH has sought among the nations. The queen’s story interjects a subtle note of warning coupled with ambivalence. For a wealthy queen to travel a great distance based on a rumor, confirm the reality as even greater than she supposed, and then lavish gifts and admiration upon the king, buttresses the reputation of Solomon in just those ways that would astonish and secure the admiration of his fellow kings and their people in the international realm of the nations. But the queen’s appraisal of how well Solomon fits the international model is precisely the issue. Solomon is an Israelite king, judged by the values and criteria of YHWH. As such, Solomon’s pious credentials as a servant of YHWH appear to be rapidly deteriorating. In other words, “the more he accomplishes as a king and the more he is admired by other kings, the more he comes to resemble them, and that, for the biblical author, is a trajectory that leads to disaster.”34 Before disaster strikes, Solomon’s international reputation is further enhanced by a list of his yearly totals in gold as well as a description of other luxurious objects. Another superlative description follows, this time of the ivory used to make the King’s throne: “nothing like it was made in any other kingdom” (1 Kings 10:20b). Superlatives continue, this time directed at the king himself. According to 1 Kings 10:23, Solomon is greater than all other kings on the earth in riches and in such wisdom that all the land seeks him out. At this point in 1 Kings, Solomon’s reign is a picture of success, stability and peace especially when compared to the conquest narratives in the books of Joshua and Judges and the many battles in the books of Samuel. International trade and prosperity replace unceasing violence. Baden reminds us that Solomon transformed his kingdom “from a glorified tribal chiefdom into a true Near Eastern monarchy.”35 He cites Solomon’s marriage to the

Solomon and his neighbors  149 daughter of an Egyptian pharaoh, his commercial dealings across the Near East, and especially his wealth: And with that wealth Solomon followed the standard model of Near Eastern kings: he kept it for himself, using it to decorate his palace, build an elaborate ivory throne, and purchase horses for the royal stables . . . Archaeology has uncovered palaces from ancient Turkey to Syria that have architectural designs remarkably close to those of the temple described in the Bible.36 Rather abruptly, 1 Kings 11 makes clear that Solomon’s international success and reputation have shifted the balance of his kingship too far from the biblical vision of an Israelite king in a covenantal relationship with YHWH as extolled in 1 Kings 8. Solomon has been led astray through his participation in the world, embrace of its ideas, and assimilation of its ways. The gifts offered Solomon by strangers in admiration of his wisdom and his wealth are used to secure Solomon’s power, not that of YHWH. Even his wisdom becomes questionable when he exports chariots and horses to other kings – those of the Hittites and of Aram – thus providing them with the potential means for doing battle against Israel. In years to come Aram and its kings will challenge the peace and stability of the people Israel over whom Solomon reigns.

In the end The final chapter of Solomon’s story responds to the tensions circling Solomon’s actions since the beginning of his reign and settles the doubts against him in decisive and startling fashion. 1 Kings 11 begins like a threatening storm on the horizon that suddenly hits land – not entirely unexpected since there were signs – so ferociously and completely that those in its wake are left stunned. In a matter-of-fact tone that belies the shocking nature of the announcement, 1 Kings states: And the King Solomon loved many foreign women, the daughter of Pharaoh and Moabite, Ammonite, Edomite, Phoenician, Hittite, from the nations of whom YHWH said to the children of Israel, “You shall not come among them and they shall not come among you lest your hearts turn after their gods”; to these did Solomon cling in love. 1 Kings 11:1–2 The list of women dramatically highlights the extent of the issue. E. Theodore Mullen points out that Solomon’s love for foreign women replaces his stated love for YHWH in 1 Kings 3:3. In subsequent verses Solomon’s worship of foreign gods weakens his devotion to YHWH.37 Solomon’s excess is illustrated not only through his buildings and his wealth but in the number of strange women that he loves. Foreign women,

150  Living in the land like gold and furnishings, become possessions that mark Solomon’s worldly success. 1 Kings 11 illustrates that the builder of God’s House is the same king who now builds multiple shrines to other gods. Solomon’s fame, wisdom and wealth do not teach him judgment or guide him correctly. None of it will protect him in the end.38 1 Kings 8 attempts to buttress Solomon’s credentials as a great Israelite king and servant of YHWH. 1 Kings 11 ferociously undoes that legitimacy. Lest there be any doubt, 1 Kings 11:6 makes God’s point of view clear: “And Solomon did evil in the eyes of YHWH.”39 Solomon’s ambition to be a successful king and build a kingdom like those around him leads him into ongoing, and often extraordinarily beneficial contact with other peoples, as we have seen. But it is those very contacts that the biblical writers delegitimize. Alliances lead to foreign wives and concubines. As concisely formulated by Mullen, “because of his promise to David, Solomon his son would establish his dynasty and construct the temple; because of Solomon’s actions, the unification of the people about that symbolic axis would be lost.”40 Divine punishment follows. The fate of Solomon’s kingdom is announced by God in 1 Kings 11:11–13 and repeated by the prophet Ahijah of Shiloh to Jeroboam, a fugitive from Solomon, in 1 Kings 11:32–36.41 The greater portion of Solomon’s kingdom will be taken away from his descendants and given to Jeroboam, leaving intact only one tribal area for Solomon’s son. This announcement of inevitable doom frames the incidents that occur in the middle verses of chapter 11. Allies like Hiram of Tyre and the Queen of Sheba are replaced by adversaries: Hadad the Edomite and Rezon who reigns in Aram. Strangers play significant roles not only in Solomon’s rise but also in his decline. As reported in 2 Samuel 8 and 10, Edomites and Aramaeans battled David and his general Joab. Both peoples were soundly defeated and became David’s vassals. Having witnessed the defeat of their elders, Hadad the Edomite and Rezon of Aram were eager to break free of David’s oppression of their peoples. It is no coincidence that the aggrieved men turn their hostility against Solomon. Until this point in Solomon’s story, he has referred to “David my father” as the source of his power and legitimization in the eyes of the people Israel. But in a twist on the question of legacy, Solomon must now face a very different sort of inheritance from his father. According to 1 Kings 11:14, God singles out the Edomite to agitate against Solomon. Hadad’s role within Solomon’s narrative “was to initiate the dismantling of the Solomonic Kingdom.”42 Hadad’s animosity toward the Israelites begins as a young boy. He witnesses the attempt of David’s general, Joab to kill off all Edomite males (1 Kings 11:15–17). Hadad and a group of young men manage to slip away to Egypt and obtain sanctuary after traveling through Midian and Paran. The mention of Midian brings to mind the story of Moses’ escape from Pharaoh and the sanctuary he found in Jethro’s tents. The direction of escape is now reversed. A refugee from

Solomon and his neighbors  151 Israelite brutality flees to Egypt via Midian rather than from Egypt.43 Joab’s attempt to kill Edomite males eerily replays the pharaoh’s attempt to kill first-born Israelite males. In both cases, violence on a massive scale fails to eliminate a people but does succeed in transmitting grievances and a wish for revenge to the next generation. Hadad’s tale provides another example of the creation and maintenance of a cycle of violence, a cycle we also observed between Samson and the Philistines. 1 Kings 11 describes Hadad’s life in Egypt: “Hadad found great favor in the eyes of Pharaoh” (1 Kings 11:19a). Pharaoh gives Hadad food and land. He integrates Hadad into his house by marrying him to his sisterin-law. Solomon is also connected to the pharaoh through marriage to his daughter (1 Kings 3:1). The Egyptian’s welcome of Solomon’s adversary Hadad suggests that marriage to the pharaoh’s daughter does not guarantee preferential treatment toward Solomon. The safe havens provided Hadad both by Midian and Egypt, sometime allies of Israel, illustrate the vagaries as well as weaknesses of such alliances. After the deaths of David and Joab, Hadad will return to his own land to agitate against Solomon and threaten the king’s reign. Another adversary sent by God to trouble Solomon, Rezon, son of Eliada, reinforces the pattern set by Hadad. Rezon’s name means ‘prince,’ suggesting that he comes from royal stock. His father’s name, Eliada, means ‘El knows’ and is equally suggestive, since God appears to ‘know’ how to punish Solomon by sending Rezon to destabilize his reign.44 Rezon’s background is somewhat similar to that of Hadad. He too escapes after David defeats the Aramaeans because they defended King Hadadezer of Zobah in 2 Samuel 8. Note that the king’s name contains “Hadad” in it, further connecting the two figures – Hadad and Rezon – chosen by God to cause Solomon trouble. The narrator links the two as well: “And he [Rezon] was an adversary of Israel all the days of Solomon [adding] to the trouble of Hadad and he loathed Israel and he ruled in Aram” (1 Kings 11:25). Rezon’s loathing hints at the hostilities to come between Israel and Aram. The Aramaeans are those to whom Solomon sold horses and chariots in 1 Kings 10:29. After introducing two strangers from the outside who unsettle Solomon’s kingdom, the narrator turns to a figure from the inside, Jeroboam, son of Nebat, an Ephraimite, to further destabilize Solomon’s reign. The prophet Ahijah of Shiloh approaches Jeroboam with a dramatic gesture reminiscent of Samuel’s words to Saul after Saul tore the prophet’s cloak in 1 Samuel 15. Now it is the prophet who does the tearing. The act, as in 1 Samuel, announces a change in rule. And Ahijah seized the new garment that he wore and tore it into twelve pieces and he said to Jeroboam, “Take for yourself ten pieces because thus says YHWH God of Israel. Behold I am tearing the kingdom from the hands of Solomon and giving you ten tribes.” 1 Kings 11:30–31

152  Living in the land The prophet reiterates the list of Solomon’s wrongdoing. He makes the consequences of those actions concrete because the Israelite in front of him will implement God’s punishment against Solomon. The king seeks to kill Jeroboam who flees to Egypt. So it is that the outside adversary Hadad and the inside adversary Jeroboam have in common Egypt as a safe haven as well as YHWH’s use of them to punish Solomon and weaken his kingdom. Solomon’s attempt to kill Jeroboam hearkens back to his ruthlessness in killing his father’s enemies at the beginning of his reign except this time he fails.45 From inside and out, Solomon is challenged in 1 Kings 11. The hostility against the king that his entanglements with other peoples, and with one of his own, have created explains Solomon’s loss of his kingdom. The chapter ends in Solomon’s death. An epilogue describes the reign of Solomon’s son Rehoboam.46 1 Kings 14:21 announces that Rehoboam’s mother is an Ammonite. 1 Kings 14:24 announces that the inhabitants of Judah “did all the abominations of the nations that YHWH had expelled from before the children of Israel.” The mention of one of Solomon’s foreign wives followed by a description of idolatry link the two, reminding the reader of the earlier critique of Solomon’s foreign wives and worship of their gods. The criticism leveled against Judah in 1 Kings 14 is followed by the march of King Shishak of Egypt against Jerusalem during Rehoboam’s reign. King Shishak carries off the treasures of the House of God and of the king, including “all the gold shields that Solomon had made” (1 Kings 14:26). Thus does the narrator comment on the fate of Solomon, whose energies were so greatly expended on building and beautifying houses while accumulating wealth. An Egyptian king, Shishak, takes it all. When Rehoboam dies soon after those events, we are again reminded that his mother was an Ammonite.

King Solomon and his strangers Solomon builds Jerusalem into a capital city with multiple building projects, including a House in which God’s Name will dwell. He creates an administrative apparatus that aids him in governing the people. Solomon secures his military with the purchase of chariots and horses, and engages in trade and the accumulation of wealth that in theory benefits his people. His reputation for wisdom spreads throughout the nearby world. His alliances with foreign figures such as King Hiram of Tyre and the Queen of Sheba afford him prestige both at home and abroad along with the considerable expansion of his wealth. Those relationships reflect a remarkable and creative crosspollination and movement between rulers of different peoples. Solomon engages in an intellectual and international pursuit of wisdom. This version of his reign admires Solomon and his accomplishments. Each element – wisdom, economic wealth, prosperity and the building of alliances – marks Solomon as a success.

Solomon and his neighbors  153 Yet each of these elements is also problematized in a distinctly different view of his reign. This alternative (likely Deuteronomic) assessment of Solomon expresses deep suspicion of his accomplishments, including his many building projects. Instead of reflecting the grandeur of YHWH, these projects create the need for forced labor. Solomon’s wisdom and wealth symbolize his excesses, his ambitions and desire for fame, as well as his attraction to the rest of the world with its strange kings (and queen), strange women and strange gods, all of which lead to his downfall. Solomon becomes so preoccupied with other peoples that he disregards his role as a ‘servant’ of YHWH. He has become a king like all others, forgetting that his task is to be concerned about the reputation of YHWH at least as much as his own. In the end Solomon is a king estranged from his Israelite foundations. What do we learn of strangers in these tales of Solomon? Just as the view of Solomon is split, so too is the perspective on strangers. A series of encounters between Solomon and others present a tolerant, fruitful exploration of the opportunities and benefits of alliances. Trade rather than warfare dominates. Solomon’s relationship with King Hiram of Tyre provides an especially positive model. Both men benefit from their relationship. They are able to share resources with one another rather than obtain their needs by force. Solomon relies on the creativity and skills of Hiram’s people. The arrival of strangers in Jerusalem to seek out YHWH is considered a satisfying and positive development. Such a welcoming posture is roundly rejected by Solomon’s end. The books of Kings, in which Solomon’s story is found, aim to build a distinct people Israel, not one more nation like all others. The king’s excesses warn the people Israel not to be fooled by Solomon. He will lead them astray precisely because of his alliances with strangers, especially foreign women. The anxiety over idolatry as a direct outcome of such intimate contacts is warranted when Solomon builds shrines to other gods in Jerusalem. God’s anger with Solomon and the subsequent events depicted during his last years attempt to deter the people from emulating him. Solomon’s successes cannot be the ultimate goal, not for kings, not for the people. Nonetheless, both versions of Solomon’s reign, including their different perspectives on strangers, are preserved in the final form of Kings. Unfortunately for the people Israel, the fate of king Solomon and their own future are inextricably connected one to the other. After Solomon’s death, strangers, including some he himself armed, threaten the very survival of the people Israel in their land. Those strangers have names. The next chapter focuses on Israelite encounters of Aramaeans, Assyrians and Babylonians.

Notes 1 Ronald Hendel, Remembering Abraham Culture, Memory and History in the Hebrew Bible (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), 76, 80.

154  Living in the land 2 David Jobling, “ ‘Forced Labor’: Solomon’s Golden Age and the Question of Literary Representation,” in Poststructuralism as Exegesis, Semeia 54, eds. David Jobling and Stephen Moore (Atlanta, GA: Scholars Press, 1992), 58. 3 Israel Finkelstein and Amihai Mazar, “Solomon” in The Quest for the Historical Israel Debating Archaeology and the History of Early Israel, ed. Brian B. Schmidt (Leiden, Boston: Brill 2007), 244–264 summarize and analyze recent archeological findings as well as disagreements over their dating. 4 Jobling, “Forced Labor,” 60 suggests that 1 Kings 3–10 ignore the negative sides of Solomon, prevalent in the beginning and the end of his narrative. Jobling distinguishes between ideal and real economic behavior and results. 5 As put by Robert Alter, Ancient Israel, Translation and Commentary (New York: W. W. Norton, 2013), 617, n. 46: “The solid foundations of the throne have been hewn by the sharp daggers of the king’s henchmen.” 6 Steven Weitzman, Solomon: The Lure of Wisdom (New Haven, London: Yale University Press, 2011), 48–49. 7 On the five appearances of Pharoah’s daughter in I Kings see Linda S. Schearing, “A Wealth of Women,” in The Age of Solomon Scholarship at the Turn of the Millennium, ed. Lowell K. Handy (Leiden: Brill, 1997), 431. 8 Major works of Wisdom in Akkadian include the poem Ludlul bel nemequi and the “Dialogue of Pessimism.” Babylonian wisdom literature was copied in the west during the Late Bronze Age. For details see Alan Millard and Jeremy Black, “Wisdom Literature,” in Dictionary of the Ancient Near East, eds. Piotr Bienkowski and Alan Millard (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2000), 319–320. 9 John Day, Robert P. Gordon and Hugh Godfrey M. Williamson, “Introduction,” in Wisdom in Ancient Israel Essays in Honour of J. A. Emerton, eds. John Day, Robert P. Gordon and Hugh Godfrey M. Williamson (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 2. 10 Andre Lemaire, “Wisdom in Solomonic Historiography,” in Wisdom in Ancient Israel, Essays in Honour of J. A. Emerton, eds. John Day, Robert P. Gordon and Hugh Godfrey M. Williamson (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 107. 11 Ibid., 108–110. 12 Ibid., 113. 13 Lemaire, “Wisdom in Solomonic Historiography,” 117 argues that the emphasis on wisdom in 1 Kings 3–12 positively contrasts Solomon with his son who unwisely spurns advice given him by his elders. 14 Joel Baden, The Historical David: The Real Life of an Invented Hero (New York: Harper Collins, 2013), 250. 15 Mazar, Quest for the Historical Israel, 136–137 describes recent archeological evidence for Tyre and Phoenicia in relationship to Northern Israel, and less extensively for Judah, in the 10th century BCE. 16 Weitzman, Solomon, 84–85. For parallels between Solomon and King Azitiwada of Phoenicia see 90–91. 17 Robert L. Cohn, “Characterization in Kings,” in The Books of Kings Sources, Composition, Historiography and Reception, eds. Andre Lemaire and Baruch Halpern (Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2010), 94 discusses Hiram the craftsman and King Hiram. 18 Robert P. Gordon, “A House Divided: Wisdom in Old Testament Narrative Traditions,” in Wisdom in Ancient Israel in Honour of J. A. Emerton, eds. John Day, Robert P. Gordon and Hugh Godfrey M. Williamson (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 100 suggests that the reference aims “to domesticate Hiram within Israelite tradition.”

Solomon and his neighbors  155 19 Hendel, Remembering Abraham, 92. 20 Jon Levenson, “From Temple to Synagogue: I Kings 8,” in Traditions in Transformation: Turning Points in Biblical Faith, eds. Baruch Halpern and Jon D. Levenson (Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 1981), 153–154 and 163, identifies a series of four addresses by Solomon in 1 Kings 8 that include vv. 12–13, a poetic fragment; vv. 15–21, a second address whose theme is the fulfillment of the promise to David in a striking resemblance to 2 Samuel 7:8–16; a third speech, 1 Kings 8:23–53, which is the longest, thought by Levenson to be from the hand of a Deuteronomic figure in exile who he describes as a theologian, 147; and a fourth and final speech, 1 Kings 8:56–61. Levenson, 158 is particularly interested in identifying the themes in the third speech that would suggest an exilic date for its theologian. These themes include an “unambiguous hope of return [which] makes sense only within a community already in exile . . .” as well as the trope of the foreigner, who “ ‘converting’ . . . makes a pilgrimage to the Temple in Jerusalem.” He cites similar language from Second and Third Isaiah and Malachi to reinforce exilic and post-exilic parallels to the foreigner who seeks YHWH. Different divisions emerge from my chiastic structure of 1 Kings 8 but the general themes are similar. 21 Levenson, “From Temple to Synagogue,” 162 cites parallels in theme and language between 1 Kings 8:23–53 and Deuteronomy 4:1–40, and concludes: “It is well-nigh impossible to hold that the unique relationship between the address of Moses and that of Solomon is coincidental. In each case the speaker drives home with symphonic effect the possibility of return, both literal and metaphorical, in spite of Israel’s sorry history of sin. The two discourses rank among the finest sermons ever composed.” 22 Weitzman, Solomon, 102. 23 Levenson, “From Temple to Synagogue,” 159. 24 “Prayer” or “praying” appear in 1 Kings 8, vv. 28, 29, 30, 33, 35, 38, 42, 44, 45, 48, 49, 54. 25 “Supplication” appears in 1 Kings 8, vv. 28, 30, 38, 45, 49, 52, 54. 26 Alter, Ancient Israel, 647, n. 41. 27 “Dedicate” is a rare biblical word, appearing five times, all in Deuteronomic materials or those associated with Solomon: twice in Deuteronomy 20:5, the present verse in1 Kings 8:63, 2 Chronicles 7:5 and Proverbs 22:6. 28 Weitzman, Solomon, 109. 29 A point documented by Weitzman, Solomon, 106–107: It turns out that many of the elements ascribed to the Temple in I Kings – the tripartite design, the two pillars that stood at the entrance to the Temple, the cherubs that guarded the ark of the covenant – have counterparts in other temples, especially those found just to the north of Israel, suggesting that it was no divine plan or heavenly model that guided the Temple’s construction but an earlier ancient Near Eastern tradition of how to build a divine abode. 30 Marc Brettler,“The Structure of I Kings 1–11,” JSOT 49 (1991): 93 suggests that I Kings 9:26–11:10 “should be called ‘Solomon’s violation of Deut. 17:14–17,’ ” 95. 31 Weitzman, Solomon, 138. 32 Jobling, “False Labor,” 63–64 notes that 1 Kings 3–10 “excludes, in a remarkable way, any sexual activity on Solomon’s part.” 33 Hiram appears in Kings 9:26–28, followed by the Queen of Sheba in 10:1–10. Hiram appears again in 10:11–12 followed by the Queen in 10:13. The alternation hints at Solomon’s economic interests in both Hiram and the Queen of Sheba as trading partners on land and sea. See Kenneth A. Kitchen, “Sheba and

156  Living in the land Arabia,” The Age of Solomon Scholarship at the Turn of the Millennium, ed. Lowell K. Handy (Leiden: Brill, 1997), 137, 139. 34 Weitzman, Solomon, 94. 35 Baden, The Historical David, 248. 36 Ibid., 248. 37 E. Theodore Mullen, Jr., Narrative History and Ethnic Boundaries (Atlanta, Georgia: The Society of Biblical Literature, 1993), 253. 38 Weitzman, Solomon, 152. 39 Mullen, Narrative History, 25 labels I Kings 11:6 an “ideological evaluation of the reign of Solomon.” 40 Ibid., 253. 41 Ronald A. Geobey, “The Jeroboam Story in the (Re)Formulation of Israelite Identity: Evaluating the Literary-Ideological Purposes of I Kings 11:14,” Journal of Hebrew Scriptures, v. 16, 2 (2016) at jhsonline.org, uses Jeroboam’s story to explore questions of collective memory, foundation myths and historiography. As a result of his analysis of that story, Geobey also argues that the biblical description of Solomon’s kingdom “facilitated the ‘forgetting’ of the Omride dynasty the very real power and grandeur of which had dominated the region,” 27. 42 Carl-Johan Axskjold, Aram as the Enemy Friend: The Ideological Role of Aram in the Composition of Genesis-2 Kings (Stockholm: Almquvist and Wiksell International, 1998), 53. 43 Genesis 36:35 mentions Hadad, an Edomite who defeated the Midianites in the country of Moab. The notice in Genesis 36 confirms a biblical characterization of alliances as fluid and unreliable from generation to generation. 44 Axskjold, Aram as the Enemy Friend, 78–80 suggests that Rezon’s presence is another sign that Solomon’s kingdom is in trouble. On Hadad and Rezon as well as Jeroboam see also Alison L. Joseph, Portrait of the Kings (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2015), 67–69. 45 Gordon, “A House Divided,” 105. 46 Mullen, Narrative History, 262 argues that Rehoboam and Jeroboam are “disintegrative powers in the development of the community and people.”

Part 3

Unsettled in the land

7 “My father was a fugitive Aramaean”

After Solomon’s death his kingdom splits. Both Jeroboam in the North and Rehoboam in the South fail to rule successfully. According to the account in the Book of Kings, they are succeeded in both cases by rulers who, with few exceptions, are likewise failures. Interactions between Israelites and other peoples continue, featuring the usual pattern of battles on the one hand and commerce on the other. This time the battles rage between Israelites and warlike kings from the east. Rather than distractions or digressions of no account, such encounters are among the most urgent matters explored in the biblical narratives of Joshua through 2 Kings. A quick geographic survey reinforces the point. The Book of Joshua describes battles between Israelites and the ‘seven nations’ inside the land of Canaan that the Israelites hope to conquer. In the books of Judges and Samuel, Samson, Saul and David struggle with Philistines found along the western coast and their southern borderlands. Solomon interacts with King Hiram of Tyre, his neighbor immediately to the north. In 1 and 2 Kings new geographic threats emerge from the far north and east, mainly from Aram. North, south, west and east, within the land and along its borders, Israelites have no choice but to interact with their neighbors. They do so in manifold ways – some long-practiced, others unprecedented – that decisively shape their history and outlook for generations to come. Due to their repeated infiltration of Israelite territory both historically (roughly the ninth and eighth centuries BCE) and textually, the Aramaeans emerge as a prickly thorn in Israel’s side, particularly in the Northern Kingdom. They take “over the role as leading enemy from the Philistines.”1 Archeological excavations and administrative and royal records provide significant data on these strangers from the east. Helene Sader describes the region in the tenth through eighth centuries BCE: Aramaean kingdoms occupied most of the territory of what is today Syria, while Phoenician and Philistine city-states were established on the coast . . . This historical reality is mirrored in the biblical record, mainly the Book of Kings, which echoes historical events involving Israel, Judah and their neighbors, especially their tumultuous relations with the Aramaeans.2

160  Unsettled in the land That tumult is the primary focus of this chapter, although other peoples from the east, ultimately more dangerous to the Israelites than the Aramaeans, also live nearby. Near the end of 2 Kings, an Assyrian king destroys the Northern Kingdom. A century and more later, the Babylonian Nebuchadnezzar surrounds Jerusalem and destroys her Temple, exiling the majority of Judah’s inhabitants. The incursions of these peoples into Israelite lands are well attested. Amihai Mazar cites a number of archeological artifacts: Two stone royal inscriptions commemorate historical events in the ninth century B. C. E.: the first describes the liberation of territories north of the Arnon River from the yoke of the Omride dynasty of Israel by Mesha, king of Moab, and the second commemorates a war between an Aramaean king, most probably Hazael of Aram-Damascus, against a king of Israel and a king of btdvd (“The House of David”), referring to Judah . . . In addition, an Assyrian royal inscription mentions Ahab as a member of a coalition who fought Shalmaneser III in 853 B. C. E. and the Israelite king Jehu is shown on the Black Obelisk surrendering to the same Assyrian ruler.3 Such discoveries allow us to see a broader picture of the peoples of that time. My method in this chapter, as previously, will be to analyze these peoples and events, movingly memorialized in stones and artifacts, as they are brought to life within biblical narratives. I shall focus on the range of views held by biblical writers of these strangers: how they think about other peoples as well as the challenges and possibilities of living in close territorial and cultural proximity to them. The best source for such an inquiry remains the biblical stories. Unlike the books of Samuel that are focused on just two kings, Saul and David, the books of 1 and 2 Kings describe numerous Israelite rulers, North and South, over a much longer period. Unlike the legitimacy granted David in his successes against the Philistines, Aramaean kings are just as likely to delegitimize, as to reinforce, Israelite royal rule. Clifford Geertz highlights the important role of stories such as those found in Kings in establishing and retaining a king’s authority or robbing him of it. It is not, after all, standing outside the social order in some excited state of self-regard that makes a political leader numinous but a deep, intimate involvement – affirming or abhorring, defensive or destructive – in the master fictions by which that order lives.4 I have selected a number of ‘master fictions’ in this chapter that legitimate or undermine Israelite kings in their interactions with the Aramaeans. The ‘social order’ in which biblical kings operate in 1 and 2 Kings has significantly changed since 1 and 2 Samuel due to the division of the people Israel into two states, North and South. Tensions between North and South play

“My father was a fugitive Aramaean”  161 out in shifting alliances with one another and, more jarring, with other peoples against one another. The prophets Elijah and Elisha create another source of tension by challenging Israelite kings in the name of YHWH. The prophets tend to get the upper hand over the kings that they serve. Such tensions propel the narratives forward every bit as much as the strangers nearby and play a persistent role in the lives of Israel’s kings, prophets and people. Strangers from the east anticipate the degree to which the land’s inhabitants, first of the Northern Kingdom, and then of Judah, will themselves become strangers by the concluding chapters of 2 Kings. My analysis also takes into account traces of the biblical editors of 1 and 2 Kings as they weave together earlier texts in response to the external events that lead to conquest and exile.5 Looking for explanations for the disintegration of the North and eventually the South, and above all needing to defend YHWH’s justice and power, the writers and editors of Kings describe strangers as instruments of YHWH to punish Israelites and their kings. This is particularly true of Aram. One cannot discuss Aramaeans in 1 and 2 Kings without noting biblical claims of their role in Israel’s fate.6 But Aramaeans do not appear only when YHWH needs them to punish the Northern Kingdom. Tales of Aramaeans stand on their own even if appropriated for polemical purposes by biblical editors. They are “constantly embroiled in Israel’s military and international affairs.”7 The gap between the role of Aramaeans as God’s agents and the variety of Aramaean exchanges with Israelites in these stories creates a fruitful space in which to pause and examine a range of biblical attitudes toward these strangers from the east. That range can be discerned throughout the book of Kings in the thoughts or acts of a particular Aramaean or Israelite king, advisor or commander, or in an editorial comment. These tales, and the views of their writers and editors, have been preserved in a lively biblical conversation that is intricate, pragmatic and full of surprises. The first surprise is the sheer amount of textual space devoted to the Aramaeans. The series of stories involving Aramaeans combines a number of the strands described in earlier chapters of the present work, alternating between violence and peace, the mutual benefits of coexistence or shared destruction. Aramaeans move from enemies to neighbors in these stories and then back again. Wars lead to formal negotiations that result in stability, prosperity and the benefits of alliances. Israelite interactions with Aramaeans in 1 and 2 Kings illustrate the fact that “the two sides were not averse to burying their differences in the face of a common enemy.”8 These tales weaken stereotypes and humanize foes. Taken as a whole, encounters between Israel and Aram offer a sustained reflection on politics and statecraft, criticism of kingship, an exploration of religion and ritual, as well as a pragmatic tolerance of strangers. The depiction of Aramaeans provides a rich and rewarding trove of information and perspectives on strangers. I begin by tracing the appearance of Aram in earlier biblical narratives, a necessary context for understanding its

162  Unsettled in the land persistent presence in 1 and 2 Kings. Since the last and most powerful agents of YHWH, Assyria and Babylon, emerge closer to the end of 2 Kings, they will do so, briefly, at this chapter’s end as well. These powers dismantle not only Israel and Judah, but Aram, denying both peoples further experiments in coexistence, at least as independent states.

Aram First mentioned in the genealogy of the sons of Noah in Genesis 10, Aram appears again immediately after the binding of Isaac. And it was after these things it was told to Abraham saying, “Look, Milcah too has delivered children, to Nahor your brother. Uz, the first born, and Buz his brother and Kemuel, father of Aram, and Chesed, Hazo, Pildash, Jidlaph and Bethuel” – Bethuel fathered Rebecca. Gen 22:20–23a Aram and Rebecca are the only children of the third generation mentioned in these verses, highlighting their relationship as cousins. Aram is also a great nephew of Abraham. What sort of influence, if any, might this close family tie have on the relationship of Aram to Israel over time? For instance, Jacob returns to Aram in flight from his brother Esau and has extended, and at times painful, dealings with Rebecca’s brother Laban. Axskjold highlights the positive nature of their relationship: The Pentateuch consciously accentuates the common origin of Aram and Israel . . . Laban prepared [Jacob] for his future task as patriarch and leader of the twelve tribes of Israel. Furthermore, the treaty containing the geographical delimitation between the parties corresponds on the whole to what we know about the southern border of Aram in the OT.9 The prophet Balaam, who appears in Numbers, comes from Aram. He showers blessings on the children of Israel at a particularly low point in their wilderness journey (Num 23:7). Deuteronomy 26:5 makes the most explicit statement on Israel’s kinship ties to the Aramaeans: “My father was a fugitive Aramaean and he went down to Egypt and sojourned there with few numbers and he became there a great nation, mighty and populous.”10 The close connection between Aram and Israel in the Torah hovers in the background as we read subsequent tales of Aramaeans. That background offers at least a partial explanation for the entwined relationships, and shared fate, of the two peoples. In contrast to the Torah, Judges mentions Aram in the context of both war and religion. God surrenders the Israelites to King Cushan-rishathaim of Aram in Judges 3:8–10. Othniel the Kenizzite eventually defeats the king,

“My father was a fugitive Aramaean”  163 freeing the Israelites. But Israelite loyalty to YHWH is short-lived. Judges 10:6 reports widespread idolatry among the people, who worship the gods of Aram, Sidon, Moab, Ammon and the Philistines. Aram poses a threat both militarily and religiously. In 2 Samuel 8, Aram’s military threat grows in parallel to David’s increasing success in vanquishing neighboring peoples.11 When the Aramaeans of Damascus hear that David has defeated Hadadezer, son of Rehob, king of Zobah, they come to Hadadezer’s aid. In response, David kills a significant number of Aramaeans, stations garrisons in Aram-Damascus and turns the people of Aram into vassals. Aram is forced to submit to David, who dedicates the plunder to YHWH.12 Thanks to his military exploits, David’s reputation increases among his people while engendering resentment in those he conquers. Vassal peoples rarely remain quiescent. In 2 Samuel 10 the Aramaeans again support an enemy of Israel, the Ammonites. In their willingness to hire the Aramaeans as mercenaries to fight their battles against David, the Ammonites confirm the reputation of Aramaeans as warriors. Such alliances against David are duly noted in the biblical text. But so are their consequences. The Aramaean choice of sides this time is especially poor since the Ammonites humiliate David, turning him into an even more ferocious opponent.13 David’s general Joab does battle with the Aramaeans, who flee before him. Once the Ammonites see the Aramaeans take flight, they too make a hasty retreat. The story is not yet over. The Aramaeans regroup, determined to fight back rather than surrender. They gather reinforcements from Aramaeans settled across the Euphrates.14 With greater numbers, they pose a greater threat in a far more significant battle against David. Nonetheless the Aramaeans are defeated again, this time by David. “But Aram fled from before Israel and David killed from Aram 700 charioteers and 40,000 horsemen, and smote Shobach, the head of his army, and he died there” (2 Samuel 10:18). The remaining vassal kings, those who had submitted to Hadadezer, now submit to David. A clear shift in power has occurred in the region. David is unquestionably in charge. The episode throws the judgment of Aram’s leaders into question. They suffer greater harm by continuing the fight against David rather than negotiating with him. Aram’s fate at the hands of David serves as a deterrence for other peoples. 2 Samuel 10:19 announces a final consequence: “And Aram was afraid to further rescue the children of Ammon.” The episode communicates the extent to which Aram is occupied and powerless, its military reputation in tatters. At the same time, the ferocity of its warriors and the strength of their determination suggest that Aram is not to be ignored or treated lightly. Ongoing hostilities between Israel and Aram in 2 Samuel are ominous. Future battles lie in store. Neither 2 Samuel 8 nor 2 Samuel 10 give any indication or even a hint of the intimate past between Aram and Israel found in the Torah. The final

164  Unsettled in the land mention of Aram in 2 Samuel 15:8 does suggest that possibility. After David banishes his son Abshalom for killing Amnon, Tamar’s half-brother and rapist, Abshalom finds sanctuary in Geshur of Aram. That rather obscure detail suggests that at times one’s enemy may become a friend if both are threatened. Aram and Abshalom are wary of David with good reason. Note however, that neither idolatry nor worship of Aramaean gods, hinted at in Judges, plays a role in Israelite encounters of Aram in 2 Samuel. The Aramaeans present a military threat, not a religious one, in these stories.

Aram takes center stage As described in chapter 6, Solomon must deal with the repercussions of David’s military successes. Rezon, son of Eliada, agitates against Solomon’s reign from Damascus in an attempt to break Aram free of its status as a vassal of Israel. The agitator from Aram troubles Solomon at the very end of his reign, disturbing the stability of the United Kingdom. A biblical narrator depicts this outside agitator’s acts as fitting punishment of Solomon after he marries strange women and supports their gods. As agents of YHWH’s plans against Israel, Aramaeans only grow in importance in the remainder of 1 and 2 Kings. According to 1 Kings 15:18–20, King Asa of Judah successfully recruits King Ben-hadad, son of Tabrimmon son of Hezion of Aram, who resides in Damascus, to his side in a battle against King Baasha of Israel.15 The narrator duly reports that Baasha is displeasing to YHWH (1 Kings 15:34). In playing a part in Baasha’s defeat, the Aramaean king takes God’s side against the Israelite king. This incident introduces something new into the social order of the people Israel. The division of the land into Israel and Judah turns their kings, and at times their people, into adversaries, while turning strangers, including those of Aram, into allies.16 In an even more explicit example of this new pattern, YHWH orders the prophet Elijah to anoint Hazael as king of Aram in 1 Kings 19:15, explaining that Hazael will become a divine vehicle in punishing Israelites who worship Baal. 1 Kings 20 devotes a significant amount of time to Ben-hadad, king of Aram, who temporarily takes center stage in an encounter between Aram and a now threatened Israel. Ben-hadad attacks Ahab, appointed king of the Northern Kingdom in the 38th year of Asa’s reign in Judah (1 Kings 16:29). He is mentioned without nomenclature (first, second or third Benhadad).17 The lack of specificity allows Ben-hadad to stand in for ‘Aramaean king’ and in so doing, transforms historical Aramaean-Israelite encounters into literary tales. History is of less interest to the writers of Kings than its interpretation. The writers are more concerned with who the Aramaeans are to the Israelites, what each people can learn from the other, and the ways in which YHWH uses Aramaeans to punish sinful Israelites. The battle between Ben-hadad and Ahab paints both in a negative light, though the Israelite appears the weaker of the two. Ahab’s fear of Ben-hadad

“My father was a fugitive Aramaean”  165 leads to poor decisions, making him dangerous to those around him, especially his family. Ahab’s background helps to contextualize the largely critical portrait of him. From his first appearance in 1 Kings 16:29–30 Ahab is described as more displeasing in the eyes of YHWH than his predecessors. Ahab takes a foreign wife, Jezebel, who kills off dozens of God’s prophets.18 Ahab too worships Baal instead of YHWH and seeks to kill the prophet Elijah. God’s use of Ben-hadad to punish the Israelite king takes a circuitous route in 1 Kings 20. Their encounter adds much to the character of each. In the end Ben-hadad is defeated and at the mercy of King Ahab. But somewhat surprisingly, they agree to arrangements that benefit both people. Even so, their negotiations lead to dire consequences for Ahab. We know little of Ben-hadad before he appears in 1 Kings 20 in a show of military power. He arrives with “all his army” against Shomron, including chariots, horses and an alliance of 32 kings.19 Ben-hadad grasps every advantage, especially monetary, over his opponents. After attacking Ahab’s city, Ben-hadad demands that Ahab hand over all his silver, gold, wives and children. By making his demands, Ben-hadad confirms the argument that war “feeds on the short-term necessities created by political policies, which may include creating an atmosphere of fear and apprehension and upon greed.”20 While plunder is part of victory, Ben-hadad’s excessive greed proves foolhardy and leads to his defeat. Initially Ahab acquiesces to Ben-hadad’s demands. His heartless willingness to hand over his wives and children paints Ahab as a weak king, especially in surrendering those he is tasked to protect (though Jezebel’s scandalous behavior mitigates Ahab’s willingness to surrender her).21 When the King of Aram hears of Ahab’s ready compliance, he raises the stakes and claims everything in the town. His lack of restraint is a mark against him. The terms of surrender are highly unrealistic and ripe for mockery. What sort of king would willingly surrender everything, including his wives and children? What sort of king would then decide that such a haul wasn’t enough? Their exaggerated negotiations lampoon the pair of them as feckless. Ahab turns to his elders and his people for advice. In unison they emphatically announce: “Don’t listen and don’t consent!” (1 Kings 20:8). Their reaction is based on a decency and common sense lacking in Ahab. He quickly accedes to their counsel, and as a result, Ben-hadad orders his followers to advance upon the city. An unnamed prophet appears, interrupting the flow of the action in order to give Ahab an urgent message. In its brevity, the exchange characterizes Ahab’s obtuseness when it comes to YHWH: Behold, a certain prophet went up to Ahab, king of Israel and said, “Thus says YHWH, do you see all that great tumult, look, I will give him into your hand this day and you shall know that I am YHWH” and Ahab said, “Through whom?” and he said, “Thus says YHWH, by the

166  Unsettled in the land youths of the officials of the provinces” and he said, “Who will begin the war?’ and he said, “You.” 1 Kings 20:13–14 Apparently reluctant to fight himself, Ahab must be goaded into battle. The elders who advised Ahab not to submit (1 Kings 20:8) are now replaced in the unfolding events by youths who will fight in his stead, keeping Ahab out of the battle (1 Kings 20:14b). Ahab lacks both the judgment of his elders and the daring of youth. The Aramaeans are roundly defeated while Ben-hadad lets down his guard by getting drunk, in the middle of the day no less (1 Kings 20:16). Instead of taking the lead, Ben-hadad remains behind the lines. His drunkenness not only adds color to the tale but contributes to his characterization as a problematic king. Nonetheless Ben-hadad manages to escape. In spite of his greed, poor judgment and unseemly behavior, he possesses luck. Thus is Ahab’s victory only partial. As they did in 2 Samuel 10, the Aramaeans regroup to soldier on. The still nameless prophet approaches Ahab again in 1 Kings 20:22 and demands that he pursue Ben-hadad: “Go, strengthen yourself, know and see what to do.” Evidence for Ahab’s sagacity has been meager up until that point. The servants of Aram also illustrate their scant knowledge, this time of YHWH. In the next verse (1 Kings 20:23) they inform Ben-hadad that the god of the Israelites is a Mountain God, logically concluding that they would win the next battle if fought in the lowlands. Their faulty logic is mocked. The Israelite prophet and the Aramaean servants goad their respective kings, the first toward victory, the other toward surrender. Ahab only half-heartedly accepts the prophet’s commands (releasing Ben-hadad in the end) even though he will be victorious. Conversely, Ben-hadad is enthusiastic and compliant even though his servants put him at a disadvantage. The Aramaean servants offer more bad advice to Ben-hadad by suggesting that he enlist the same number of soldiers, horses and chariots that he used in the earlier battle against Ahab, further depleting his precious resources. Ben-hadad’s advisors do not serve him well by too callously and quickly depleting his resources. Their advice reflects a militaristic culture. Losses do not faze them as long as they have ready substitutes and additional military armor such as chariots and horses. Ben-hadad is also at fault. By greedily rejecting Ahab’s original terms of surrender, Ben-hadad unnecessarily escalates the conflict. He ends up gaining nothing but loses a great deal of his men, resources and wealth. In preparation for their second battle the Aramaeans seek to intimidate the Israelites by appearing in great numbers and filling the land (1 Kings 20:27). The prophet reappears and announces to Ahab (v. 28b): “Thus says YHWH because Aram said, ‘YHWH is the god of Mountains not a god of lowlands is he’ I will give all this great number into your hand and you will

“My father was a fugitive Aramaean”  167 know that I am YHWH.” YHWH refutes the “Aramaean perception of him as a god of the mountains who is ineffectual on any other terrain!”22 God’s reputation, rather than concern for Ahab, fuels the prophetic statement. The lesson is clear: unlike Ahab or Ben-hadad, YHWH is to be taken seriously. The scene is dramatic. The two armies gather opposite one another, poised to fight. Tension increases to the breaking point, as for six days nothing happens. Only on the seventh day do the children of Israel strike Aram and kill 100,000. The walls of the city to which the surviving solders of Aram escape fall upon and kill them. The narrator casually reports the enormous loss of life – 100,000 dead in a single day. It seems, as in Joshua, to be a fantastic report rather than a realistic chronicle of the battle. Ben-hadad again escapes, this time to a room within a room (1 Kings 20:30b). The image neatly communicates the extent to which he has boxed himself into an untenable situation. His advisors step forward with yet another plan based on yet another assumption, this time about Israelite kings. They report that Israelite rulers are known for their compassion and generosity. This time they do not wait for Ben-hadad’s response before executing their plan. The Aramaean advisors dress in sackcloths (as mourners) and place ropes on their heads (enacting submission to captivity) before seeking out the king of Israel on behalf of Ben-hadad. Perhaps the Israelite king would spare him. The plan rests on little evidence but rather surprisingly, it works. Your servant Ben-Hadad says, “Please spare my life” and he said, “Is he still alive? He is my brother.” And the men guessed and rapidly caught [his drift] from him and they said, “Your brother – Ben-Hadad” and he said, “Go and get him” and Ben-Hadad came out to him and he invited him into his chariot and he said to him, “The cities which my father took from your father I will return and you can put bazaars in Damascus as my father did in Shomron.” “And I in a covenant shall let you go” and he made a covenant and he sent him away. 1 Kings 20:32–34 What a remarkable exchange! As Zevit describes it, “an ungrateful Ahab turned a divinely orchestrated victory – the second battle – into a business opportunity.”23 The encounter suggests more than just a shrewd negotiation. Ahab refers to Ben-hadad as his brother, a term that hearkens back to the kinship phrase “my father was a fugitive Aramaean” (Deuteronomy 26:5). “Brother” also reminds the reader that Aram and Rebecca were first cousins (Gen 22:21–23). Aram and Israel trace their relationship to a shared past. Ahab’s use of a kinship term is unexpected, especially after the two ferocious battles that the kings have just fought. It softens the humiliation of defeat. Or, perhaps by calling Ben-hadad ‘brother’ Ahab expresses a sense of loyalty to a fellow king.

168  Unsettled in the land The directness of Ben-hadad’s proposal to Ahab suggests his ability, little in evidence until that point, to seize an opportunity. Ben-hadad is willing to give back cities to the other side, overturning his father’s actions. Ben-hadad and his advisors obtain greater success in the end than their failure in battle would have predicted. Ahab’s immediate response, as direct speech flows uninterruptedly from one to the other and back, highlights his sympathetic connection to Benhadad. Their exchange reveals a readiness to move beyond battles and build an alliance that benefits both kings and their people. The result seems to confirm Geertz’s observation that violent struggles between kings are not inevitable. “The struggle with local big men was not necessarily violent or even usually so . . . but it was unending, especially for an ambitious king, one who wished to make a state – one scuffle, one intrigue, one negotiation succeeded by another.”24 Geertz’s description fits Ben-hadad and his ambitions rather better than it does Ahab, who is reluctantly pulled into battle against the Aramaean. Not only does Ahab spare Ben-hadad’s life, he frees the Aramaean to return to his own city. Both will survive, in Geertz’s phrase, for another ‘negotiation succeeded by another.’ Ben-hadad’s reference to the hostility in their parents’ generation, his proposal that Ahab take back towns that Ben-hadad’s father had taken from Ahab’s father and set up markets in Damascus is very interesting. Ben-hadad disrupts a cycle of intergenerational conflict by using economic rewards and reparations to successfully broker a peace. Both kings reveal a pragmatism that recognizes an exchange of territory and wealth is the preferred outcome. The treaty creates stability for both peoples. Subsequent events, however, reveal the narrator’s (or editor’s) disapproval of the agreement between the King of Aram and the King of Israel. As noted by Zevit, “Ahab had no right to spare those whom he had not defeated. According to the oracle of v. 28 God, not Ahab, defeated Ben-hadad.”25 After Ahab releases Ben-hadad, he is subjected to significant criticism in two tales that function like Nathan’s parable when that prophet tricks King David into condemning himself (2 Sam 11–12). Ahab will also pronounce his own fate. In the first tale a disciple of the prophets asks his neighbor, following God’s instruction, to strike him but the neighbor refuses. The neighbor represents Ahab in his refusal to strike Ben-hadad. In a rather ominous outcome for Ahab, a lion then strikes that neighbor dead. The disciple then asks another person to strike him who does so, wounding the disciple. Though the tale ends abruptly, the message is clear. Listen to God’s instructions even to inflict violence on your neighbor. Refusal will be lethal. In the second episode, the prophet himself approaches the king in disguise and tells him a brief tale. The prophet lets a man slip away in the thick of battle and now fears he has to pay a fine either in silver or with his own life. The king informs the disguised prophet that he has in fact already pronounced a punishment on himself. At that moment the prophet reveals his

“My father was a fugitive Aramaean”  169 identity. The story concludes with a prophetic pronouncement that makes the messages of the tales explicit as well as the king’s reaction: “Thus says YHWH because you sent away the man whom I doomed so will your life be for his and your people for his people.” And the king of Israel went to his house sullen and vexed and came to Shomron. 1 Kings 20:42–43 God intended to illustrate divine power in defeating Ben-hadad. Ahab foils the plan by releasing Ben-hadad and establishing a treaty with him. In consequence Ahab is doomed. Ben-hadad has an unintentional hand in the fall of Ahab. Ahab repeatedly fails to follow God’s plans and most egregiously allows the enemy king safe passage home. Even so, the treaty is to Ahab’s advantage and grants him additional wealth. Consider that at the outset Ahab is ready to hand over gold, silver, wives and children to Ben-hadad. At the end Ahab has a foothold in Damascus, suggesting he is a shrewder king than initially portrayed. Ahab recognizes a worthy opponent when he sees one and is willing to accept the resolution of their differences. But Ahab has subverted God’s intentions and will face lethal repercussions. In contrast to God’s disappointment, the tale’s ending seems to suggest the writer’s preference for a mutually beneficial economic alliance. Between the lines of prophetic and Deuteronomic criticism of these kings, an alternative, largely rational, reading presents itself. The two kings recognize that it is time to move on from their history of conflict. As suggested by the use of ‘brother,’ knowledge of and identification with one another emerges out of their prolonged battles and subsequent treaty. As kings they get things done. Can their peoples accept such an accord? Would it not be in their best interest as well? The example provided by Aram reminds Israel of the familiar challenge of learning to distinguish between a stranger who is an enemy from a stranger who is so close that he could be considered a member of the family. The benefits of coexistence outweigh ongoing conflict. Yet the dominant prophetic or Deuteronomistic rhetoric obstructs and obscures the presence in these texts of a more tolerant vision of coexistence. The positive opportunities presented in the story of Ahab and Ben-hadad fade because a later editor is more interested in punishing Ahab, a king married to a strange woman who worships strange gods. Paradoxically, the threat of foreign gods and women originates not with the Aramaeans but internally, within the Northern Kingdom. Ahab dies three years later. Ahab’s final battle comes, perhaps ironically, at the hands of yet another king of Aram in 1 Kings 22 who remains nameless. Even Ahab is mentioned by name only once in the account in verse 20 while still alive, after he is already dead in versus 39–40 and then retrospectively in verse 41. In verses 50 and 52 his name is used only in reference to his living son. During the rest of the chapter’s events Ahab is referred to as ‘king of Israel.’ Either

170  Unsettled in the land the story is only loosely associated with Ahab, or it is an ominous way of suggesting that he is about to be written out of the text, to be replaced by another. The use of ‘king of Aram’ for Ben-hadad is also striking. In this final encounter, the two men function as opposing enemies eternally at war, unable to make peace; more accurately, they are pawns of YHWH, subject to plans not of their own making. This encounter highlights the manner in which an infamous king dies. But it also illustrates the tragic possibility that enmity between Aram and Israel is imposed upon them by forces outside their control. The themes, and some of the steps, of this final battle against a king of Aram are familiar from the previous story of Ahab and Ben-hadad. A battle begins, this time initiated by the king of Israel in order to recapture territory. Negotiations are nonexistent since the result is predetermined. Ahab again ignores prophetic advice. The Aramaeans reappear with their chariots and their horses. Jehoshaphat, king of Judah, comes to the aid of Ahab but, suspiciously, arrives too late to prevent the death of the king of Israel. Jehoshaphat insists on seeking the counsel of YHWH (1 Kings 22:5) before aiding Ahab in battle.26 Not convinced by the Israelite king’s prophets, Jehoshaphat asks for a prophet associated with YHWH. The interchange polemically illustrates the greater loyalty to YHWH from kings of Judah than those of Israel in 1 and 2 Kings. The prophet Micaiah appears and warns the kings that other prophets are leading them into disaster. Ahab jails the prophet, who in turn promptly announces his death. Their exchange replays the explosive tension between a king of Israel and a prophet aligned with YHWH from earlier stories (most prominently, Samuel and Saul). Jehoshaphat finds himself in a difficult predicament. His alliance with the king of Israel must supersede the prophet’s warning. Rather suspiciously, the king of Israel suggests that Jehoshaphat partially disguise himself but continue to wear his royal robes while the Israelite king puts on a disguise. By removing his robes, the king of Israel unwittingly anticipates his loss of the kingship. At the same time, the king almost gets Jehoshaphat killed. The plan is foiled, almost at the last minute, by none other than the king of Aram. He orders his men to kill only the king of Israel in 1 Kings 22:31. How does Ahab die? “And a man drew the bow in his innocence and struck the king of Israel between the lower armor and the breastplate” (1 Kings 22:34). Alter translates the crucial phrase as “drew the bow unwitting.” The Aramaean did not intend to kill the king but aimed his arrow, thanks to the disguise, at someone who looked like a common Israelite soldier.27 The JPS translation, ‘a man drew his bow at random,’ reinforces the seemingly arbitrary nature of the act. Witless or arbitrary, in the end Ahab dies. His death is slow and painful. The king bleeds to death in his chariot as he faces the enemy, Aram, who he should have defeated but did not. An immobile chariot reinforces the impossibility of escape. Death does not preclude one last humiliation for Ahab. God’s word is fulfilled in horrible fashion. The king’s blood flows into the pool of Shomron

“My father was a fugitive Aramaean”  171 “and the dogs licked his blood and the whores washed [in it] as the word of YHWH that He spoke” (1 Kings 22:38). The image of the king’s blood being used by dogs and prostitutes is a biblical way of condemning him in the harshest of terms by treating his corpse with great disrespect.28 Taken as a whole, Ahab’s acts in 1 Kings 22 – ignoring and insulting a wise prophet, removing his own kingly robes, disguising himself to no avail, and especially, a nasty death – mark the portrayal of his end as literarily brilliant and theologically fitting considering the many mistakes and offenses he commits against YHWH during his lifetime. The Aramaean who kills him unknowingly fulfills the role of divine agent against the king of the Northern Kingdom.

An Aramaean commander meets an Israelite prophet The next extended encounter between an Aramaean and an Israelite appears in 2 Kings 5. It is a story of a friendship, one of a most unlikely sort. The tale shifts attention away from royal encounters, king to king, to an intriguing exchange between a military commander, Naaman, and an Israelite prophet, Elisha. Naaman is rather abruptly introduced. We learn that he heads the army of Aram’s king: “a great man before his lord, elevated in favor since through him YHWH gave victory to Aram and he was a great warrior, a leper” (2 Kings 5:1). What a mixed description! On one hand, Naaman is a warrior of great distinction, which lends significant meaning to his ultimate confession of belief in, and submission to, YHWH. Yet the story also confirms that YHWH grants Aram victory through Naaman. Frank Spina offers a familiar explanation for God’s motives: this notation about YHWH’s positive involvement with Naaman and Aram has the effect of reorienting the reader. At the very least, it means that no facile conclusions can be drawn about what “side” YHWH is on . . . YHWH used those very enemies as an instrument of judgment against Israel.29 YHWH has found another Aramaean agent. But just as in the previous story of Ben-hadad and Ahab, the plot is intricate and Naaman’s role is more than as a vehicle of YHWH. Naaman is characterized in a richly layered way that humanizes him. Notably, the warrior is a leper. The verse that introduces him juxtaposes power, status and leprosy.30 Power has its limits if it can’t protect Naaman from leprosy. Naaman’s family name is not given, nor is the name of the king of Aram. The absence of these names marks the story as a literary tale rather than a historical report. Verse 3 adds another negative note to the tale. The Aramaeans raid sites in Israel. As a result of Aram’s aggression, an Israelite girl is taken captive and placed in Naaman’s house: “And she told her mistress, ‘Oh would that

172  Unsettled in the land my lord were before the prophet in Shomron so that he would cure his leprosy’ ” (2 Kings 5:3). These verses suggest the extent to which Aramaeans disrupt the daily lives of Israelites. According to the logic of the story, if God grants victories to Aram, then presumably God also has a plan for the Israelite captive. Details of the Israelite’s age, sex and ethnic identity are given to reinforce the power of the prophet in Shomron. Even a young girl has heard of him. Her portrait, however terse, is rather extraordinary. Even in servitude she does not lose her capacity for compassion. Nor does she gloat over her master’s illness. By facilitating his cure, the Israelite girl sets the tale in motion. As we shall see, servants play important roles throughout. Yet, after Naaman repeats her suggestion to the king of Aram, the Israelite servant girl disappears from the story. The king of Aram sends Naaman with a letter to the king of Israel, who also remains nameless. Naaman craftily supplements the letter with silver, gold and clothing. A contrast exists between his giving and Ben-hadad’s earlier attempt to plunder the gold and silver of Israel. Naaman seeks a peaceful rather than hostile exchange. The letter is straightforward: “I sent to you Naaman my servant so that you cure him of his leprosy.” And it was when the king of Israel read the letter that he tore his clothes and said, “Am I God to kill or to give life, that this one sends to me to cure a man from his leprosy? But so know, please and see that he seeks a quarrel with me.” 2 Kings 5:6–7 The king of Aram sent Naaman to the king rather than the prophet even though the young girl had been quite precise. Yet the king of Israel doesn’t correct the mistake by sending Naaman immediately to the prophet. Unlike the young girl, the prophet doesn’t enter the king’s mind. The king’s panic is juxtaposed to the young girl’s calm. Knowing his limitation, he rushes to the worst possible scenario; it seems to him a trick of some sort. His haplessness contrasts with Elisha’s wisdom. Spina highlights this negative assessment: the Israelite king’s actions indicate that he has no more insight into the nature of the situation than do the Aramaeans. He never once thinks of ‘the prophet who [is] in Samaria’; he doesn’t even think to invoke YHWH. From the Israelite king’s vantage point, neither he nor Israel is any more capable of dealing with Naaman’s condition than are the Aramaean king and the Aramaeans.31 Elisha recognizes the king’s panic for what it is: ignorance of, or lack of belief in, Elisha’s powers. The prophet demands that the king send the man to him, so that, in contrast to the king, Naaman “can know that there is a prophet in Israel” (2 Kings 5:8). The scene shifts to the opening of Elisha’s

“My father was a fugitive Aramaean”  173 house. Naaman arrives with his chariot and his horses, signs of the worldly power that had failed to protect him against illness. Standing in Elisha’s doorway, Naaman is on the verge of a cure. His pride gets in the way. Elisha instructs Naaman via a messenger to cure himself by bathing seven times in the Jordan River. He can’t take yes for an answer, rejecting the cure as too simple. Naaman shares his own ideas about how an Israelite prophet should cure him. But Naaman was furious and left, saying, look I thought to myself he would surely come out and stand and call in the name of YHWH his God and wave his hand toward the place and cure the leprosy. Are not Amanah and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus better than all the waters of Israel? Couldn’t I wash in them and be purified? And he turned and went off in a rage. 2 Kings 5:11–12 Naaman has clear expectations about prophetic ritual. The syntax conveys his indignation. ‘To myself’ announces that a figure such as Naaman expects that a prophet would follow protocol and show the mighty commander the respect due someone of his stature by greeting him directly and not through a messenger. Naaman hasn’t recognized that by coming to Elisha he places himself at his mercy and that his room for maneuver is limited. The commander both misunderstands the source of the prophet’s power and doubts his efficacy. Feeling humiliated and demeaned, he finds a way to reassert his superiority, preferring his own rivers of Damascus to the exclusive source of healing in this tale, the Jordan River. Naaman’s response illustrates how national pride may block openness to other peoples and the benefit of their practices. It also echoes that of Ben-hadad’s advisors and their limited knowledge of YHWH. Naaman’s pride almost leads him to walk away from the cure that he had come so far to obtain. Luckily for Naaman, his servants know how to craft an argument that can persuade their master. They address Naaman’s common sense. Since he is desperate enough to accept instructions from Elisha in the first place, why not try something as easy as bathing in the Jordan? The commander defers to his subordinates as he had done with the young Israelite servant back in Aram. Naaman is cured as soon as he follows Elisha’s exact instructions. Able to swallow his earlier pride and free of his onerous and painful illness, Naaman gratefully returns to the man of God. Naaman wishes to thank Elisha with gifts, though he accepts the prophet’s rejection of them without taking offense. Naaman expresses fealty to YHWH: “If not, let two mule loads of earth be given to your servant so that your servant will never again offer up burnt offering or sacrifice to other gods except to YHWH. But for one thing may YHWH forgive your servant,

174  Unsettled in the land when my master comes to the house of Rimmon and bows low there and he leans on my arm so that I bow low in the house of Rimmon — when I bow in the house of Rimmon, may YHWH forgive your servant in this thing.” And he said to him, “Go in peace” and he went from him some distance. 2 Kings 5:17–19 What a change a cure can make! Naaman grasps the moral of the story: the real power among the Israelites lies with the prophet.32 To reinforce that point, Naaman uses the word “servant” five times in 2 Kings 5:15–18, clearly taking upon himself the role of servant to the prophet, and perhaps to God, rather than to the king of Israel or his own king of Aram. Elisha and Naaman speak directly to one another instead of communicating via a messenger. Expressing loyalty to YHWH, Naaman gratifies not only Elisha but also the Israelite audience. His explicit vow to sacrifice only to YHWH goes further than either Jethro or Rahab in not only appreciating, but worshipping, Israel’s God. Identified as a favorite of the king of Aram, Naaman’s acknowledgement carries extra significance. Naaman thinks ahead, anticipating a scene in which his loyalty to YHWH and his integrity might be questioned. 2 Kings 5:18 is carefully structured, beginning and ending with the same words in a slightly different order that I have tried to preserve, even though awkward in English: “about this thing forgive YHWH your servant” and “forgive YHWH your servant this thing.” Changing the word order in the opening and concluding clauses of verse 18 emphasizes the forgiveness of YHWH that Naaman seeks and upon which he places great importance. The verse is crafted so that the image in the middle of verse 18, king and servant bowing to Rimmon, is mitigated by Naaman’s repetition of his desire for forgiveness. Elisha’s satisfaction with Naaman’s speech is conveyed in verse 19 with a simple “go in peace.” Naaman’s story explores what it takes for a stranger, even one as mighty as the commander of an enemy army, to become a follower of YHWH. Naaman identifies an earthly power, that of the prophet, but also understands the source of that power originates with God. Unlike Israelite kings and warriors who engage in constant struggle with God’s prophets, Naaman weighs in on the side of the prophets. He is a stranger, indeed a warrior and head of an army, but he learns from his mistakes and curbs his pride. Naaman’s portrait brilliantly humanizes an enemy and turns him into a welcomed friend. From the view of Aram on the other hand, he might be seen more critically since he has illustrated the superiority of YHWH over Rimmon, and Elisha over Aram’s king. The ending of the tale diminishes Israelite smugness and superiority. The corrupt actions of an Israelite servant of Elisha, Gehazi, are thrown into sharp relief to Naaman. Elisha sends Naaman on his way in ‘peace.’ When greeting Gehazi, Naaman utters that same word, ‘peace.’ But the two

“My father was a fugitive Aramaean”  175 encounters are radically different, capturing the range of possibilities in portraying the relations between Israelites and Aramaeans. Naaman’s characterization in this scene is equivocal. Facing Gehazi he appears naïve, an easy mark and victim of deception. This gentle skewering of Naaman for his gullibility reinforces Israelite superiority, even as the Israelite servant, Gehazi, is subjected to the most damaging assessment of all. Gehazi wants Naaman’s gift after Elisha rejects it. He exploits Naaman’s gratitude by easily convincing the Aramaean to give him silver and clothing with a fabricated story. Gehazi does not escape his duplicity. Upon his return to Elisha, Gehazi faces the prophet’s wrath after blatantly lying to him: “ ‘Is this a time to take money . . . the leprosy of Naaman will cling to you and your descendants forever’ and he went out from before him leprous like snow” (2 Kings 5:26–27). Elisha rebukes Gehazi not necessarily because he deceives an Aramaean but because he has violated Elisha’s authority. But the Aramaean emerges from this story in a somewhat more positive light than the Israelite.33 The point is made in literary fashion through ‘leper.’ The word ends the first sentence of the episode, 2 Kings 5:1, in reference to Naaman and the last sentence of the episode in 2 Kings 5:27 by referring to the Israelite Gehazi. In other words, Gehazi was “cast from the inside out.”34 This story complicates the dichotomy between Israelite and stranger by valuing sagacious behavior more than ethnic or national identity. The female Israelite servant and the Aramaean servants of Naaman pave the way for his cure while an Israelite king is ineffectual and an Israelite servant is corrupt and duplicitous.35 Yet ethnicity also plays a role. Naaman the Aramaean serves to reinforce the credibility and stature of the Israelite prophet Elisha. Naaman’s tale is a particularly fine example of biblical insight into the fuzzy borders between peoples that we have observed between Jethro and Moses, Samson, David and the Philistines and now the Israelites and Aramaeans. By the end of this tale it is hard to maintain stereotypes. One admires Naaman the Aramaean but scorns Gehazi the Israelite.

Two strange stories of Aram In spite of Naaman’s positive experience of the Israelites, in the very next story Aram and Israel are again at war. 2 Kings 6:8a creates an impression of unceasing conflict: “While the king of Aram was fighting against Israel. . . .” The announcement omits when or why war broke out. Absent such explanation, war seems to be a permanent state of affairs. This time God takes over management of the war from kings and commanders. Whenever the king of Aram seeks to camp for the night, a man of God warns the king of Israel. Specific names are once again omitted but epithets are used: king of Aram, king of Israel, man of God. The lack of names adds to the impression of archetypal hostilities between eternally warring adversaries. Over the course of these battles, Aram’s threat ebbs and flows.

176  Unsettled in the land It ceases entirely only when both Northern Israel and Aram-Damascus fall to their common enemy, the Assyrians. Each time the man of God relays the site of Aramaean encampments to the Israelite king, the latter places his soldiers on alert, denying Aramaeans the element of surprise. Increasingly agitated, the king of Aram demands to know who within his ranks is responsible. One of his officers pins it on Elisha. Considering that this story immediately follows Naaman’s meeting with Elisha as well as his confession of fidelity to YHWH (2 Kings 5:15), might Naaman in fact be a spy? In any event, Elisha dramatically defeats the king of Aram with the aid of YHWH, adding further luster both to the prophet’s reputation and to that of YHWH. The Aramaeans are once more vehicles of God’s glory. Surrounded by an Aramaean force and a panicked servant, Elisha prays to YHWH to open the eyes of the servant. [A]nd he saw, and look, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha. And they descended against him and Elisha prayed to YHWH and said, “Strike please this people with a blinding light” and He struck them with a blinding light as Elisha had asked. 2 Kings 6:17b–18 The battlefield becomes an arena in which prophetic and divine powers are fully displayed (in contrast to earlier episodes in which Samson, Saul or David take center stage). Elisha’s servant witnesses the display. Elisha leads the blind Aramaeans to the king of Israel in Shomron and orders him to feed the Aramaeans before returning them to their master alive. “And he prepared for them a great feast and they ate and they drank and he sent them and they went to their master and the Aramaean bands did not continue coming into the land of Israel” (2 Kings 6:23). Elisha thus asserts his prophetic dominance over the king. Perhaps the prophet spares the Aramaeans for a future role as God’s agents against the Israelites. In the present case, God helps prevent bloodshed and loss of life. The tale’s ending provides an alternative to conflict, however temporary, just as we saw in Naaman’s friendship with Elisha and the mutually beneficial negotiations between Ben-hadad and Ahab. In the very next tale the Aramaeans are once again disempowered thanks to YHWH, who removes them as a threat, though not permanently. King Ben-hadad gathers his entire army and lays siege against Shomron, resulting in famine and suffering. The king of Israel is powerless. There are no negotiations. Only YHWH’s intervention, reported by four lepers who sit outside the Shomron gate, will save the day. At the end of their rope, the four philosophically decide to desert to the Aramaean camp: “If they let us live, we will live, but if they kill us, we will die” (2 Kings 7:4). Discovering that the entire Aramaean camp is empty, they report the news to the Israelites.

“My father was a fugitive Aramaean”  177 The description of the lepers’ entry into a camp they expected to be overcrowded and bustling is as concise as it is eerie: “There was no one there” (2 Kings 7:5). God provokes the flight of the Aramaeans by creating the sound of a mighty army and so convinces them that attack is imminent. Panicked, they leave behind “the camp just as it was” (2 Kings 7:7), frozen in time, littered with their tents, horses and asses. As in the first tale, Israel avoids war and is saved again. While prophet and YHWH are confident, the king of Israel is uncertain and anxious. He sends scouts as far as the Jordan to ensure that the Aramaeans are not waiting in ambush. They find an entire road full of discarded Aramaean clothing and gear (2 Kings 7:15). The shedding of clothing (echoing Ahab’s undressing in 1 Kings 22) signals defeat, this time among the Aramaeans. Thanks to YHWH, the siege is broken. The Israelites replenish their supplies by raiding the abandoned Aramaean camp. These two strange tales uncannily echo the earlier military encounters between the Aramaeans and the Israelites but do so in a shadowy realm of God’s intervention. Ethereal battles replace the realities of war. Instead of the sounds of chariots, horses and thousands of soldiers on the march, divine miracles win the day. God turns a mighty human power, Aram, into nothing more than an army of the blind, a camp emptied of its soldiers, a shade who vanishes, leaving behind mere traces. The warrior YHWH reassures the people Israel who have been living under the threat of Aramaean aggression. Both stories wistfully imagine alternatives to violence as well as the compassionate treatment of an enemy. Perpetual conflict is replaced by an avoidance of killing on a grand scale and the generous provision of food and water to one’s former enemies. At the same time these tales satisfy an audience devoted to YHWH but perhaps tired of a state of perpetual conflict.

A new king of Aram The emergence of a new king in Aram, Hazael, provides a stark dose of reality, dramatically overturning the miraculous reassurance found in the two tales just explored. 2 Kings 8 opens with a gravely ill King Ben-hadad of Aram turned frail and vulnerable. His successor, Hazael, will quickly become a serious threat.36 Elisha arrives in Damascus just as Ben-hadad becomes ill. The king sends Hazael to the man of God to inquire of YHWH if he will survive the illness. Seeking information from YHWH and Elisha rather than an Aramaean god suggests that the fame of YHWH’s powers and those of the prophet has grown after Naaman’s cure and the divine defeat of the Aramaean army. It also signals the depth of Ben-hadad’s desperation. Hazael is laden with gifts that Elisha ignores just as he did with Naaman. But this time, enmity rather than friendship permeates the relationship between the prophet and an Aramaean commander. As Hazael seeks a

178  Unsettled in the land prognosis for Ben-hadad’s illness, he describes the Aramaean king as ‘your son.’ The use of the epithet is politically shrewd, suggesting an attempt to flatter Elisha. But Hazael does not fool the prophet. On the contrary, from Elisha’s perspective the appearance of Hazael and their conversation is extraordinarily painful. Anguish, an emotion rarely seen in Elisha, leads him to utter horrifying news about what’s in store for the Israelites of the Northern Kingdom. Hazael will be king. Elisha knows how cruel he will be. And Elisha said to him, “Go tell him you will surely live but YHWH has revealed to me that he shall surely die.” And his face froze and he was dumbfounded a long time and the man of God wept and Hazael said, “Why does my lord cry?” and he said “Because I know the evil you will do to the children of Israel – their fortresses you will set on fire, and their young men by the sword you will kill, and their little ones you will dash to pieces and their pregnant women you will rip apart.” And Hazael said, “How can your servant, a dog, do such a great thing as this?” And Elisha said, “YHWH has shown me you as king of Aram.”37 2 Kings 8:10–13 Part of the prophetic task is to bear such horrific news. Elisha weeps because he knows that in choosing Hazael YHWH has found not only an ambitious and determined enemy of Israel but also an effective one. Elisha recognizes Hazael’s ruthlessness and his lethal capabilities. Hazael’s seemingly modest exclamation that he is a mere ‘dog’ rings hollow. Reflected in Elisha’s perception of him, Hazael glimpses what he can and will do to become the next king. Elisha’s words goad Hazael to speed the death of Ben-hadad. The very next day Hazael covers Ben-hadad in netting that drowns him and claims the kingship for himself (2 Kings 8:15). Fantasies of Aramaean vulnerability and powerlessness dissolve into the harsh reality of a brutal king of Aram. Hazael fights not only the king of Israel but the king of Judah in 2 Kings 8:28. The Israelites of the North and South respond by forming an alliance that quickly proves ineffective. The king of Israel is wounded in battle, a report mentioned both in 2 Kings 8:28–29 and 2 Kings 9:15. A brief united front against a common enemy gives way to military failure. Hazael’s acts confirm his danger to Israel. 2 Kings 10:32–33 announces that YHWH has begun to reduce Israel in population and territory by using the Aramaean: “Hazael struck them in all the borders of Israel from the Jordan east. . . .” The loss of territory includes the land across the Jordan first settled by the Gadites, Reubenites and Manassites on their way to conquering Canaan. Aram has established an aggressive presence along Israel’s borders as well as reaching across the Jordan into the eastern territories. Hazael has even greater territorial ambitions. Geertz describes a king as one who reinforces his own authority by possessing and then “stamping a territory with ritual signs of dominance.”38 Hazael fits that description.

“My father was a fugitive Aramaean”  179 After capturing David’s old sanctuary along the western borders in the Philistine city of Gath, Hazael heads toward Jerusalem. Hazael’s reputation precedes his arrival. The king of Judah acts quickly and decisively, though without consulting his court. Instead of fighting Hazael, Joash pays him off. And Joash king of Judah took all the consecrated objects of Jehoshaphat and Jehoram and Ahaziah, his fathers, kings of Judah and his own and all the gold that was found in the treasuries of the house of YHWH and the house of the King and sent them to Hazael, King of Aram and he turned away from Jerusalem. 2 Kings 12:19 The treasures of four kings and of the house of YHWH suggest significant wealth. To offer Hazael such a quantity not only of wealth but also of consecrated objects suggests the extent to which Joash takes him seriously. Two verses later Joash is assassinated by his servants. His willingness to deplete the wealth of Jerusalem provides the probable cause. Joash gets little credit from his people for having prevented a battle that could have wreaked far more damage on Jerusalem. Hazael next acts against the northern King Jehoahaz and in so doing confirms Joash’s assessment of him as a figure underestimated at one’s peril. But the same holds true of YHWH’s power. And the anger of YHWH flared against Israel and He handed them repeatedly into the hand of Hazael King of Aram as well as the hand of Ben-hadad son of Hazael and Jehoahaz pleaded with YHWH and YHWH heard him because he saw the oppression of Israel because the king of Aram oppressed them. 2 Kings 13:3–4 The presence of Hazael’s son, who will replace him, as well as the adverb ‘repeatedly,’ suggests hostilities spilling over into the next generation. ‘Oppression’ (also used to summarize Hazel’s actions against the Northern Kingdom in 13:22) describes both the Pharaoh’s treatment of Israel in Exodus 3:9 and a recounting of that treatment in Deuteronomy 26:7. The use of the same term places the king of Aram in the company of the Pharaoh who caused Israel enormous suffering in the past. In 2 Kings God has explicitly chosen Hazael to inflict punishment on Israel. Hazael’s success against Israel represents a serious theological challenge to God’s benevolence, though not to God’s power: “The king of Aram destroyed them and made them trampled on like dust” (2 Kings 13:7b). The next generation continues the fight. A new king of Israel, Jehoash, takes the opportunity to reconquer cities taken by Hazael from his father Jehoahaz. He fights three battles against the Aramaeans and defeats them. An uneasy status quo is restored but not before the Israelite inflicts harm on

180  Unsettled in the land Hazael’s son. A familiar cycle of violence and retribution, similar to those earlier endured by Aram and Israel in the time of David and even earlier, between Samson and the Philistines, recurs.

A shared fate In 2 Kings 15:37, in spite of a history of battles, King Rezin of Aram forms an alliance with a king of Israel, Pekah, son of Remaliah, this time against Judah. Pekah is an enigmatic figure. We know little of him. He is an aide to a king of Israel whom he kills to take the throne for himself. Pekah reigns for 20 years. During that time the Assyrian King Tiglathpileser captures significant territory in the Northern Kingdom.39 Pekah’s career ends when Hoshea, son of Elah, assassinates him because of his weakness in face of Assyria (2 Kings 15:30). Only after a brief biography and the notice of his death do we learn of Pekah’s alliance with King Rezin of Aram. The disruption of a linear sequence, while confusing, highlights the chronology of kings before zooming in to describe the battles of Pekah as Aram’s ally. According to 2 Kings 15:37, YHWH is behind the alliance so that the king of Aram and the king of Israel can act against Judah! No explanation is supplied, but the power of Aram to wreak havoc against Judah is not in doubt. Pekah is again mentioned as an ally of King Rezin of Aram in 2 Kings 16, this time against a new king of Judah, Ahaz, son of King Jotham in the very last recorded battle of Aram in 2 Kings 16:6. But the Aramaean and Israelite kings do not overcome Ahaz. Recognizing the extent of Rezin’s threat, Ahaz turns to Tiglath-pileser, king of Assyria, pays him for protection and becomes his vassal (2 Kings 16:7). Judah’s alliance with Assyria weakens Israel enough to be defeated by the new alliance. By such means a far more threatening stranger appears in the lives of both Israel and Aram. Assyria will not be overcome. Damascus will be captured, its inhabitants deported, and King Rezin put to death (2 Kings 16:9). It will not be long before the Assyrians do the same to Rezin’s allies, the Israelites of the Northern Kingdom, having already begun the process by deporting some Israelites to Assyria in 2 Kings 15:29.40

Who is Aram? Tales of Aram in the books of Kings reflect the perceptions and creative imaginings of biblical writers toward Aramaeans, who lived for many years on their borders, and the nature of their relationships with Israelites, especially in the Northern Kingdom. Not surprisingly, perceptions of Aramaeans reflect a range of views, sometimes of the same figure. An Aramaean military commander, Naaman, becomes a follower of YHWH and a grateful admirer of Elisha. The Aramaean king Ben-hadad has a more mixed portrait, both critiqued and positively appraised. Hazael is seen as a terrifying

“My father was a fugitive Aramaean”  181 and ruthless threat. Poignantly, in the end Aram and Israel suffer the same fate at the hands of the Assyrians. While there is a brief reference to the Aramaeans as a religious threat in Judges 10:6, outside of that book little of their ritual practices, worship of their god, or of marriage between Israelites and Aramaeans is reported.41 In fact, in at least two examples Aramaeans (Naaman, Ben Hadad of 2 Kings 8) seek out the prophet Elisha and YHWH. Instead of religious concerns, stories in Kings capture the ways in which the biblical writers use Aram for martial, political, literary and theological agendas. Israelites experience Aramaeans predominantly as a military threat. Battles are a way of life for the two peoples. Aramaeans are persistent after defeat, often terrifying after victory. But in their military behavior there is much that the biblical writers admire about the Aramaeans. They defend one another and build alliances among themselves against outsiders. They are also important allies against other peoples, playing a particular role as allies of Israel against Judah though equally willing to join Judah against Israel, depending on the greater benefit to Aram. The triangle thus created between Israel, Judah and Aram is a significant development in biblical encounters with strangers. Strangers may generate or exacerbate fissures within the people Israel rather than unite them. Their willingness to become allies reveals the Aramaeans as a people with whom Israel can negotiate politically. When not engaged in a cycle of war and acquisition, the two peoples are willing to relinquish territory and wealth to one another in negotiated settlements that bring about a period of mutual peace and prosperity. That willingness marks the Aramaeans as a people with whom Israel could coexist until both are conquered by the Assyrians around the same time. Biblical writers also use Aramaeans for literary purposes. Much like the Philistines before them, Aramaeans provide the stage upon which Israelite kings are either admired and granted legitimacy or, far more often, found wanting. Interactions between Aramaean kings and their Israelite counterparts create a more in-depth critique of kingship as an institution. Both sides are skewered in that critique. Ahab is so weak and frightened of Ben-hadad that he is willing to give him his wives and children, an offer that would be repulsive to biblical writers. Aramaean kings are either greedy and drunk or ruthless and brutal. Whether Israelite or Aramaean, kings are found seriously wanting. Only God survives these particular tales intact as a warrior. Elisha is characterized more fully by means of the Aramaeans. Naaman allows us to observe the extent of Elisha’s reputation as well as his healing powers no matter if the patient is a stranger. When faced with knowledge of Hazael’s brutality, Elisha’s anguish and distress over the ways of YHWH engender an uncharacteristic sympathy for the prophet and the poignancy of his prophetic plight. These stories illustrate that position or class status can be far more significant than a character’s ethnicity. Aramaean or Israelite, servants are crucial

182  Unsettled in the land secondary characters who share a literary function, adding comic relief and dramatic tension to the encounters of Aram and Israel. Both sides rely on the various functions and behaviors of ‘servants’ as actors in guiding their kings. Both have their share of untrustworthy servants: the ill- informed and callow servants of Ben-hadad, the greedy Israelite Gehazi, the brutal servants who assassinate the Judaean king in 2 Kings 12:21, and the suspected informer against the Aramaeans in 2 Kings 6. At other times, Aramaean and Israelite servants provide sounding boards for their kings, often finding solutions to their problems and mediating their responses to the events in which they find themselves. Aram also plays an exceedingly important, though painful, role as a vehicle of an avenging God against the Israelites, especially those of the Northern Kingdom. Continual Aramaean aggression against the Northern Kingdom weakens the Israelites and depletes their resources, making them easy targets of the Assyrians. Judah’s turn to Assyria also contributes to the weakening of Israel. Above all, Aram provides an important opportunity for reflection. The powerful are not what they seem. They can be vulnerable, their victories fleeting. That insight shapes some of the more compelling and peculiar stories of the Aramaeans whose power is easily overcome by YHWH either by means of illness, blindness or an auditory trick (the sound of war in the Aramaean camp). Thus do the biblical writers expose the limitations of human powers, armies and wealth. Or, perhaps more accurately, the stories in Kings express the wish that those powers could be stopped by YHWH. Cycles of violence are deplored in depictions of the fleeting and temporary nature of victory on either side. Wounds and losses on the battlefield are transmitted from generation to generation, from father to son, just as such cycles permeate the stories found in Joshua and the books of Samuel. It is only when a new power, Assyria, emerges, who is greater than either Aram or Israel, that battles cease. Aramaeans and Israelites are remarkably intertwined in the books of Kings. Perhaps the explanation for their ongoing entanglements lies not only in their territorial closeness, but in the genealogical connection established in Genesis. Aram is Abraham’s nephew and Rebecca’s cousin. Deuteronomy 26:5 reminds us: “My father was a fugitive Aramaean. . . .” The tradition that they were born into the same family softens a tale of enemies and provides hope. Israelites and Aramaeans are cousins who fight but will reconcile, disagree over property but join together in fighting an external threat. Their deep connection is most poignantly expressed in their shared fate at the hands of the Assyrians who threaten and deport both peoples almost simultaneously.42

Desolation and exile Instead of the many battles with Aram in which one side, then the other, could claim victory, or at least fight to a draw but survive, the Assyrians

“My father was a fugitive Aramaean”  183 overshadow, dominate and eventually exile the Israelites of the Northern Kingdom. The Babylonians eventually do the same to Judah. Steven Weitzman concisely summarizes the historical events reflected in the tales to come: The kingdom formed by the rebellious ten tribes, known as the kingdom of Israel, is destroyed by the Assyrian Empire after Jeroboam and his successors fall into idolatry themselves. Judah, the remnant of Solomon’s kingdom in southern Canaan, survives the Assyrian attack, but only to commit its own sins and to be decimated in turn by the Babylonians. By 586 BCE there is virtually nothing left of Solomon’s kingdom: the king and his sons have been executed, much of the population is deported, Jerusalem is left a desolate ruin, and all that remains of the king’s great Temple are some of its furnishings and cult implements . . . carried off by the Babylonians as loot.43 The stories that document the fall of North and South are told in the last 10 chapters of 2 Kings in a rapid-fire flurry of defeats punctuated by divine anger, disappointment and great sorrow. Assyria establishes a reputation as a ruthless and demanding people, “a force of fear, overwhelming and unprecedented in human scope.”44 Political intrigue rapidly turns dangerous in the North. A king of Israel, tired of Assyrian power over his kingdom, allies himself with Egypt. The outcome is catastrophic, leading to the mass deportation of the Israelites by the Assyrian king in the ninth year of King Hoshea of Israel in 2 Kings 17:6. The narrator steps in with a strongly worded charge, accusing Israel of bringing the deportation upon itself with a catalog of sins and betrayals. Seeking to justify God’s ways, 2 Kings 17 overflows with rage and indignation. Their failures explain why Israel and later Judah are exiled. Every possible sin and act of idolatry is attributed to the Israelites. Especially egregious is the repeated mimicking by Israel of the ways of other peoples. The building of shrines, matzevot and asherim; the obsession with fetishes; a refusal to atone and turn back to YHWH – all these explain the national catastrophe. The dramatic statement ends in a crescendo of condemnation and the demise of the Northern Kingdom: And they despised His laws and His covenant which He cut with their fathers and the warning that He had warned them and they went after delusion and were deluded; and after the peoples who surrounded them of whom YHWH commanded them not to follow . . . And YHWH was greatly incensed against Israel and turned the Divine face away from them. No one remained except the tribe of Judah alone. 2 Kings 17:15, 1845 The people are charged with following the ways of those people who lived in the land when the Israelites first settled there. Now, at the end of the Northern Kingdom, strangers inside and out still tempt Israelites, who

184  Unsettled in the land continue to find their ways appealing. God uses these tempters from the east, especially the Assyrians, to punish Israel: “And Israel was exiled from its land to Assyria” (2 Kings 17:23).46 The next scene moves to Judah and an extended encounter between Hezekiah, its king and King Sennacherib of Assyria. After a long Assyrian siege is broken and the enemy army withdraws, Hezekiah retains a partially independent rule in Jerusalem. The Assyrians then depart the stage.47 Hezekiah’s reign ends on an ominous note. The prophet Isaiah arrives too late to prevent the king from showing envoys from Babylonia all the wealth in Jerusalem. With that, a new adversary enters the land and takes the stage. King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon is abruptly introduced during the reign of Jehoiakim. The Babylonian turns Jehoiakim into his vassal. Jehoiakim rebels, but God allows bands of the strangers who surround Judah to destroy it (2 Kings 24:2). King Nebuchadnezzar takes back to Babylon what remains of the Judeans, the court and the wealth of Judah. 2 Kings ends with the final siege of Jerusalem, along with the destruction of the House of YHWH and that of the king. Except for the poorest of the land, the majority of Judeans are taken into exile, including commanders, warriors, craftsmen, smiths and the wives of the king’s officers and notables. “And Judah was exiled from its land” (2 Kings 25:21b). The long chronicle of Israelites and strangers in Kings ends in destruction and exile. The peoples from outside the land now occupy its very center, while the Israelites of both kingdoms have been scattered to foreign lands.

Strangers from the east The stories in Kings illustrate the ways in which strangers persistently haunt biblical narrative. Indeed, the children of Israel, north and south, will always be entangled with them. Inevitably, some of those strangers prove to be more powerful than the Israelites, as Assyria and Babylon readily demonstrate. The biblical editors’ use of those strangers to account for the historical reality and justify the destruction of the Northern Kingdom and the exile of Judah to Babylon represents a skillful theological polemic. Just as remarkably, in spite of the shadow cast by the terrible end of the two Israelite kingdoms, strangers are perceived and presented in the book of Kings with extraordinary complexity. Strangers become neighbors with whom Israelites coexist. By turning our gaze to them, we learn that other peoples are not as strange as they initially appear. Familiarity does not necessarily breed contempt. Stereotypes can be broken by knowledge of one another. Naaman is admired, Gehazi disdained. Biblical writers and their audience note Aramaean unity, admire how well they organize themselves and ponder their assistance to one another, this last in contrast to the tensions between Israel and Judah. In a number of stories behavior trumps ethnicity, while fair play and kinship prevail over fear and mistrust. The extent to which that counter-trajectory makes it way

“My father was a fugitive Aramaean”  185 through these tales creates empathy for Aramaeans and the fate they share with the Israelites. At the end of Kings, Israelites know again what it is to be strangers. Their destination lies in exile. Endings matter. 2 Kings concludes in a strange land. The final image in these long chronicles is of a king of Judah in a land not his own, utterly dependent on the mercy of a Babylonian king. Such a grim ending raises the question of its influence over the many stories of Israelites and strangers that precede it in Joshua through 2 Kings. To what extent does exile and humiliation color the perceptions of strangers I have examined until this point? I turn, in ending this book, to that question.

Notes 1 Carl-Johan Axskjold, Aram as the Enemy Friend: The Ideological Role of Aram in the Composition of Genesis-2 Kings (Stockholm: Almqvist and Wiksell International 1998), 59. He points out that Isaiah 9:11 and Amos 9:7 group the Philistines, Aramaeans and Israelites together and notes that the Philistines and Aramaeans are the greatest powers faced by Israel prior to the Assyrians and Babylonians, 59–60. For a concise history of the Aramaeans see Helene Sader, “The Aramaeans of Syria: Some Considerations on Their Origin and Material Culture,” in The Books of Kings Sources, Composition, Historiography and Reception, eds. Andre Lamaire and Baruch Halpern (Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2010), 273–300. Assyria to Iberia at the Dawn of the Classical Age, eds. Joan Aruz, Sarah B. Graff and Yelena Rakic (New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, distributed by New Haven, London: Yale University Press, 2014) focuses on the archeology, history and material culture of the peoples mentioned in the present chapter. 2 Helene Sader, “The Aramaeans of Syria,” 273. 3 Amihai Mazar, “The Lands of the Bible,” in Assyria to Iberia at the Dawn of the Classical Age, 172. 4 Clifford Geertz, “Centers, Kings and Charisma: Reflections on the Symbolics of Power,” in Culture and Its Creators, Essays in Honor of Edward Shils (Chicago, London: The University of Chicago Press, 1977), 171. 5 Proposals for the stages of composition in 1 and 2 Kings include Ziony Zevit, “Introduction I Kings,” in the Jewish Study Bible, 2nd edition, eds. Adele Berlin and Marc Brettler (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 653–656; Baruch Halpern and Andre Lemaire, “The Composition of Kings,” 123–153 and Gary N. Knoppers, “Theories of the Redaction(s) of Kings,” 69–88 in The Books of Kings Sources, Composition, Historiography and Reception. 6 Axskjold, Aram as the Enemy Friend, 157–158 describes Aram as an instrument of God. 7 Frank Anthony Spina, The Faith of the Outsider Exclusion and Inclusion in the Biblical Story (Grand Rapids, Michigan, Cambridge, UK: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2005), 73. 8 T. R. Hobbs, “Naaman,” in The Anchor Bible Dictionary, v. 4 K-N, ed. David Noel Freedman (New York: Doubleday, 1992), 968. 9 Axskjold, Aram as the Enemy Friend, 157. He points out that Laban and Jacob shared the same ancestor, Terah, concluding “the parties were beyond doubt kinsmen (cf. Gen 22:20),” 28. 10 Jeffrey H. Tigay, The JPS Torah Commentary, Deuteronomy (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1996), 240, n. 5 concisely summarizes the difficulties

186  Unsettled in the land of translating the phrase ‘my father was a fugitive Aramaean’ and its possible dating. 11 Gershon Galil, “David, King of Israel, Between the Arameans and the Northern and Southern Sea Peoples in Light of New Epigraphic and Archaeological Data,” in Ugarit-Forschungen, Internationales Jahrbuch fur die Altertumskunde SyrienPalastinas (Herstellung: Hubert and Co., Gottingen, Germany, 2013), 159–174 reexamines the geopolitical reality of Syria and Israel in the 11th–10th centuries BCE. 12 Axskjold, Aram as the Enemy Friend, describes David’s acquisition and display of gold shields in Jerusalem in 2 Samuel 8:7 as royal propaganda, “underlining his victory over Hadadezer,” 63. 13 Saul Olyan, “Theorizing Violence in Biblical Ritual Contexts: The Case of Mourning Rites,” in Social Theory and the Study of Israelite Religion, Essays in Retrospect and Prospect, ed. Saul M. Olyan (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2012), 174, describes the consequences: “the violence of the Ammonites is strategically deployed, in this case to terminate a treaty; . . . it is highly communicative: and . . . it reworks the political and social landscape.” 14 An Aramaean defeat in 2 Samuel 8 motivates Hadadezer to call for reinforcements and fight back in 2 Samuel 10:16, Axskjold, Aram as the Enemy Friend, 78. 15 Zevit, “Introduction I Kings,” 692, notes 17–22, summarizes King Asa’s move against Baasha. 16 The split between David and Abshalom on a personal level anticipates the split between Israelites on a national level. Aram plays a role in each. 17 A. R. Millard, “Aram,” in The Dictionary of the Ancient Near East, eds. Piotr Bienkowski and Alan Millard (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2000), 27 reconstructs dates for kings named Ben-hadad. The first Ben-hadad (mentioned in 1 Kings 15) made his treaty with Judah sometime after 900 BCE. Ben-hadad II fought Ahab after 853 BCE and was assassinated by Hazael around 843/842 BCE. Ben-hadad III ruled around 796–775 BCE. I preserve the omission of nomenclature for each Ben-hadad. 18 Jezebel is from Phonecia whose cities include Tyre. Jonathan N. Tubb, “Phoenicians and Aramaeans,” in Assyria to Iberia at the Dawn of the Classical Age, eds. Joan Aruz, Sarah B. Graff and Yelena Rakic (New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, distributed by New Haven, London: Yale University Press, 2014), 133, describes the ninth century BCE Tyre as a “preeminent Phoenician city-state, and it is within the context of its affluence and high status that we must set Jezebel’s family.” 19 Pharaoh, Nebuchadnezzar and Zedekiah are said to have ‘all his army’ with them in addition to Ben-hadad, signaling the Aramaean king’s power, Axskjold, Aram as the Enemy Friend, 93. 20 Victor H. Matthews, “Introduction,” in Writing and Reading War, Rhetoric, Gender and Ethics in Biblical and Modern Contexts, eds. Brad E. Kelle and Frank Ritchel Ames (Atlanta: SBL, 2008), 6. 21 Cynthia Chapman, The Gendered Language of Warfare in the Israelite-Assyrian Encounter (Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 2004) focuses on gendered depictions of Assyrian kings in battle. Her discussion is pertinent to Aramaean and Israelite kings in conflict with one another. 22 James Richard Linville, Israel in the Book of Kings: The Past as a Project of Social Identity (Sheffield, England: Sheffield Academic Press, 1998), 185. 23 Zevit, “I Kings 20.1–20.16,” 702, n. 13. 24 Geertz, “Centers, Kings and Charisma,” 163. 25 Zevit, “I Kings 20.33–21.6,” 704, notes 35–42. 26 For the episode’s connection to the rebellion of Moab in II Kings 3 see John R. Bartlett, “The ‘United’ Campaign Against Moab in II Kings 3:4–27,” in Midian, Moab and Edom, eds. John Sawyer and David Clines (Sheffield: JSOT, Supplement Series, 24, 1983), 135–136.

“My father was a fugitive Aramaean”  187 27 Robert Alter, Ancient Israel: The Former Prophets, Joshua, Judges, Samuel and Kings (New York, London: W.W. Norton and Company, 2013), 726, n. 34. 28 Deuteronomy 23:19 associates dogs with prostitutes. 29 Spina, The Faith of the Outsider, 74–75. 30 Robert Cohn, “Form and Perspective in 2 Kings V,” Vestus Testamentum xxxiii, 2 (1983): 174, notes that Naaman’s leprosy “shocks the reader with the irony of Naaman’s predicament.” 31 Spina, The Faith of the Outsider, 81. 32 For a fuller discussion of Naaman’s ‘conversion’ see Spina, The Faith of the Outsider, 84–85. 33 On this point, see also Axskjold, Aram as the Enemy Friend, 124. 34 Robert L. Cohn, “Characterization in Kings,” in The Books of Kings Sources, Composition, Historiography and Reception, eds. Andre Lamaire and Baruch Halpern (Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2010), 98. 35 Axskjold, Aram as the Enemy Friend, 122: “it is the Israelite and not the Aramaean commander who has become the enemy in this ideological fight.” So too Spina, The Faith of the Outsider, 91, “the Aramaean outsider has become clean, and the Israelite insider has become unclean.” 36 Hazael’s rise is noted by Zevit, “2 Kings 9,” 727, notes 17–20. Mazar, “The Lands of the Bible,” 175 describes Hazael in more detail: Hazael is portrayed in the Bible as the bitter enemy of Israel, Judah and the Philistines. Moreover, archaeological excavations in Israel have revealed numerous destruction layers that are dated to the Aramaean wars conducted by him. Phoenician Dor and Horvat Rosh-Zayit as well as Philistine Gath were set on fire, but Hazael’s main target was the kingdom of Israel, where Jezreel, Megiddo, Ta’anach, Yoqne’am, Beth Shean, Rehov, and Hazor were all devastated by his mighty power. Gershon Galil, “A Concise History of Palistin/Patin/Unqu/’mq in the 11th–9th Centuries BC,” Semitica 56 (2014): 96–98 describes information obtained from inscriptions. 37 ‘He was dumbfounded a long time,’ Alter, trans., Ancient Israel: The Former Prophets, 769. 38 Geertz, Centers, Kings and Charisma, 153. 39 2 Kings 15:19, 20 and 29 mention the Assyrians. In 2 Kings 15:29 King Tiglathpileser deports the inhabitants of Naphtali to Asshur. 40 Aram is last mentioned in 2 Kings as part of a larger force of Chaldeans, Aramaeans, Moabites and Ammonites who weaken Judah just before the Babylonian exile. 41 Exceptions include 2 Kings 5, Naaman’s description of the worship of Rimmon, and 2 Kings 16:10, a reference to an altar in Damascus. 42 Axskjold, Aram as the Enemy King, 8 observes: “Aram seems selected to share in the destiny of Israel and Judah.” 43 Steven Weitzman, Solomon the Lure of Wisdom (New Haven, London: Yale University Press, 2011), 168–169. Oded Lipschits “The History of Israel in the Biblical Period,” in the Jewish Study Bible, 2nd edition, eds. Adele Berlin and Marc Brettler (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 2112–2113 provides a concise summary of the Northern Kingdom from Ahab until the Assyrian conquest. 44 Peter Machinist, “The Rab Saqeh at the Wall of Jerusalem: Israelite Identity in the Face of the Assyrian ‘Other,’ ” Hebrew Studies V, XLI (2000): 166; Cynthia R. Chapman, The Gendered Language of Warfare. 45 ‘Delusion’ as translated in JPS. 46 Tiglath-pileser III begins controlling the Northern Kingdom around 734 BCE. Sargon II deports Israelites from the Northern Kingdom around 722 BCE.

188  Unsettled in the land 47 The last passage to mention the Assyrians is that of 2 Kings 23:29 at the moment in which King Josiah of Judah is killed.   Peter Dubovsky sums up Assyria’s presence in 2 Kings, “Assyrian Downfall Through Isaiah’s Eyes (2 Kings 15–23): The Historiography of Representation,” Biblica v. 89, 1 (2008): 1–16. For the influence of Assyrian lists on the king lists in 1 and 2 Kings as well as a discussion of the “Babylonian Chronicle” see Mario Liverani,“The Books of Kings and Ancient Near Eastern Historiography,” in The Books of Kings Sources, Composition, Historiography and Reception, eds. Andre Lamaire and Baruch Halpern (Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2010), 163–184.

8 Strangers at the gate

At its beginning the Torah presents the known world as an extended family, signaling the importance of that vision to its writers. From their very inception, Israelites exist in a close kin relationship to Mesopotamians, Egyptians, Midianites, Canaanites, Phoenicians and Aramaeans. Shifting our gaze to these and other strangers makes it possible to see their pervasive presence in the narratives from Exodus and Joshua through 2 Kings analyzed in this work and the complexity of Israelite entanglements with them. When the children of Israel leave Egypt behind and traverse the wilderness, the former slaves begin to build individual and collective identities as Israelites in part through their interactions with others, such as the Midianites, encountered during their journey. Developing a collective identity continues in the land as the Israelites join together to respond to the many challenges poised by the seven Canaanite nations. Joshua’s retelling of the Israelite story near the end of his life reminds his people of the strangers and sites encountered in their long history, including those in the lands beyond the Euphrates, Egyptians, Amorites and Moabites in the wilderness, and, once they have crossed into the land, the people of the seven nations. As the Israelites spread throughout the land, they discover the limitations of their conquest and the reality of other peoples such as the Anakites, who are not so easily expelled or destroyed. Joshua’s fundamental insight into the persistence of Israelite interactions with others continues long after his death. In a period of transition during the early days of their life in the land, Israelites discover the possibilities and limits of cultural and sexual exchanges best captured in Samson’s restless travels between Israelite and Philistine lands. The interactions of kings such as David and Solomon, and of prophets such as Elisha, with Philistines, Phoenicians and Aramaeans illustrate the ways in which Israelite leaders – as imagined by the biblical writers – strengthen the Israelite state, militarily and theologically, by building important alliances with strangers. Like Samson before him, Solomon explores cultural and sexual exchanges with other people but does so as a king of a united Israel. Conquest and exile at the hands of the Assyrians and Babylonians end 2 Kings, as they do this book. Poignantly, the arc of the Israelite journey begins in wilderness and ends in exile. Israelites have been, and will

190  Unsettled in the land again be, strangers. That realization colors, even haunts, biblical narratives of Israelites and the strangers at their gate. Biblical writers look inward in many of the stories in this study, focusing on the formation, development and reinforcement of the Israelites as a people in covenant with YHWH. The Israelites they depict are generally content to be left to themselves to build a unique community with shared beliefs and practices.1 Other peoples are treated with hostility, mocked or ignored in the name of particularity, the preservation of a distinct identity, and exclusive worship of YHWH. Strangers are also kept at a distance because they are threatening. They are vigilantly defended against, or become targets of Israelite aggression within and outside the Promised Land. Israelites must kill or be killed. Such views and behaviors toward strangers undermine or defy possibilities for successful coexistence and beneficial exchange. Alternative perspectives within other tales hearken back, sometimes wistfully, to the more universal and inclusive vision of humanity found in the early chapters of Genesis. Counter-narratives reveal an openness to, and curiosity about, those others, neighbors and strangers alike, living within and along Israelite borders. Such different perceptions of strangers shape competing, or at times overlapping, biblical trajectories that keep strangers at a distance or seek to turn them into allies, neighbors and friends, generating a recurring tension throughout the stories I have examined. In an essay on contemporary American politics, George Saunders labels such competing views ‘two minds’ about the Other: One mind says, be suspicious of it, dominate it, deport it, exploit it, enslave it, kill it as needed. The other mind denies that there can be any such thing as the Other, in the face of the claim that all are created equal.2 If one substitutes the divine address to all humanity, “created in God’s image” (Gen 1:27) for ‘all are created equal,’ then perhaps Saunders has captured a motive for the more open biblical perspective on strangers. In recent years, theories of evolution, neuroscience and innate human disposition attempt to account for such different ways of seeing others. A full discussion of those theories lies outside this brief conclusion. However, one particular proposal is worthy of mention for its insight into Saunder’s notion of two minds and the two biblical trajectories traced in this study. The social psychologist Jonathan Haidt describes some individuals as more open to signs of human suffering, reciprocity and cooperation. Other individuals prioritize loyalty, authority and sanctity.3 Real or perceived threats from the outside and fear of subversion from within unite the latter group.4 Those with one set of preferences versus the other come together in social groupings that perceive and accept the world through a particular narrative, while “blind to alternative moral worlds.”5 These variations are in part individual – psychological or perhaps even genetic – rather than cultural, ethnic

Strangers at the gate  191 or religious. Haidt’s two distinct clusters of traits and values capture, and partially explain, biblical stories that actively exclude outsiders in the name of unity and social cohesion or explore, and at times celebrate, possibilities of fruitful exchange between Israelites and their neighbors. Such wariness or openness, multiplied many times over, dynamically fuels competing biblical narratives. Another possible theory to account for the competing views of strangers illustrated in this work is that of David Frankel. Frankel identifies two major themes within the Hebrew Bible – conquest and exodus – and explains their effects: The theme of the conquest is thoroughly nationalistic and would naturally serve to legitimate ethnocentric legislation, were it adopted as the central founding element of the national covenant. The elevation of the exodus theme instead of the conquest theme allowed for the legitimating of the universal values of care for the very stranger whose well-being would be compromised by an accentuation of the conquest theme.6 Both themes are adopted in biblical laws as noted in this study. Anticipating the conquest, and then entering the land, as portrayed in Deuteronomy and Joshua, lead to highly charged and explicit prohibitions against intermingling with the seven nations and their gods accompanied by lethal punishments for doing so. At the same time, rules focused on the ger are remarkable for their insistence on welcoming and protecting the stranger based on the exodus of the Israelites from slavery in Egypt. A third proposal, that of Lukasz Niesiolowski-Spano, draws from ideas of social modeling presented by Christoph Ulf to explain alternative biblical views of one particular group analyzed at length in this study: the Philistines.7 Niesiolowski-Spano focuses on the elites versus other members of the community. As we have seen, both Samson and David actively seek out the Philistines, though for different reasons. Other Israelites, however, especially those sent to repeatedly battle the Philistines, would presumably have opposite, hostile views of this powerful group on their borders. NiesiolowskiSpano explains: “The attitude of the elites is not the only voice of the community. This difference in evaluation gives the possibility of rejecting ‘foreign’ elements.”8 Interestingly, according to the narratives in 1 Samuel 13–14 the dichotomy between the elite and the rank and file can be reversed. Israelites move back and forth into the Philistine borderlands for commercial purposes until their leader, Jonathan, makes those exchanges impossible.9 In the Hebrew Bible’s final form, its editors have retained distinct and competing attitudes toward outsiders just as these three proposals would suggest. But an editor may also end up, intentionally or inadvertently, blurring the boundaries between competing narratives. They juxtapose or patch together different perspectives on the same ethnic group in side-by-side stories that feature a range of characters and plots in an entwined final

192  Unsettled in the land form. Philistines are mocked or sought out, brutally killed or glimpsed in an empathetic moment of identification. In 2 Kings Elisha memorably heals Naaman, the Aramaean commander, while weeping over the brutality about to be committed by the Aramaean King Hazael against the Israelites. Narratives of Israelites and their neighbors in the Hebrew Bible’s final form expose an extraordinarily rich biblical dialogue. In the remainder of this conclusion I will briefly report on the findings that have emerged.

Defending God’s reputation, especially in light of exile God’s influence on Israelites and strangers in these stories is inescapable. The majority of biblical stories demand and elevate devotion to a monotheistic, exclusive God as the eternal covenant partner of the people Israel. Israelites serve and worship only YHWH. Such devotion marks them as unique. Numerous texts reinforce God’s legitimacy, authorize obedience and inspire fidelity by illustrating God’s power as Warrior and King. A number of outsiders – Jethro, Rahab and Naaman – are warmly accepted by Israelites because of their knowledge and praise of YHWH. Covenantal violations, worship of foreign gods and attractions to foreign women require stories of deterrence or mockery to punish such temptations. A story that gleefully humiliates the Philistine god Dagon suggests the extent of the threat emanating from a sophisticated people well known to the Israelites through their commercial exchanges. Priests and prophets seek to erect walls, physical and spiritual, against such outsiders. Israelites and their kings are at fault, not YHWH, if those walls are breached. Exile demands an even more vigorous defense of God. Fierce and polemical biblical defenders of YHWH, especially near the end of the Northern Kingdom (depicted in 2 Kings), interpret historical events in such a way as to suggest that the Assyrians are God’s agents in imposing a collective punishment on the Israelites for their covenantal transgressions. Such polemical readings preclude, make less likely or obscure more pragmatic or collaborative Israelite responses to strangers throughout 1 and 2 Kings. An alternative view of God, glimpsed in several stories, unexpectedly bonds Israelites with some of their neighbors. God’s strangeness and terrifying inexplicability emerge intermittently in the experiences of Philistines and Samson, who resort to increasingly violent and revengeful attacks against one another. Readers know what both sides do not. God has victimized and exploited them to end Philistine rule over the Israelites. Another moment of terror pairs God’s infliction of hemorrhoids on the Philistines with a divine strike against thousands of Israelites at Beit-Shemesh. God’s wrath is not reserved for strangers alone.

The pervasiveness of violence and its limits Numerous triggers of violence against other peoples include ethnic affiliation and religious practices, greed, competition for scarce resources such as

Strangers at the gate  193 water, and territorial ambitions. All lead to provocation and aggression from one side or the other along with the resulting need to defend one’s land, people and way of life. The ability to provoke another people paradoxically emerges out of familiarity or intimacy with one’s neighbors. As argued by Jonathan Blake, “Effectively antagonizing the other group requires knowing them well: what they hold dear, what is taboo, where is sacred, when they are particularly sensitive to insults.”10 Tales of humiliated Canaanite kings, the subjugation of the Gibeonites, a decapitated Philistine god Dagon or Achish’s gullibility are good examples of such intimate knowledge of one’s enemy. Writers manipulate fears, stereotypes and suspicions of strangers to stir up and strengthen a collective united front against an enemy. As put by Laurence Silberstein, “any effort by a group to establish the parameters of its own identity entails the exclusion and/or silencing of the voices of Others.”11 The Midianites are brutally attacked by the Israelites in the wilderness in spite of, or perhaps due to, Moses’ close relationship to his Midianite wife and father-in-law. The Reubenites, Gadites and half-tribe of Manasseh illustrate their loyalty to the tribes of Israel by becoming the vanguard of their newly formed army. The Philistine threat fans the urgency for a new sort of leader to protect the Israelites, granting a king his legitimacy and authority if successful on the battlefield. The pervasiveness of violence conveys an air of inevitability, reinforcing the viability and reasonableness of armed conflict as a strategy and solution. Other stories insidiously promote the use of violence but mask its true consequences. A number of battle reports partake of the fantastic in their hyperbolic successes, in the numbers killed or expelled, and in the humiliation of enemy kings. The ease with which Israelites destroy others while barely sustaining injury hides a bitter and frightening truth about their precarious position in the Promised Land. They have barely survived in the shadow of greater powers. Philistines, Aramaeans and Assyrians do not disappear but remain enemies at the gate. Israelites are perpetually vulnerable and in need of allies against such a reality. That same reality leads writers to a more nuanced and pragmatic appraisal of the status and security of the people Israel. Intent on legitimizing alternative possibilities to conflict, these writers warn against too ready a use of violence by depicting its consequence: cycles of retribution and mutual destruction that quickly whirl out of control. Samson’s battles with the Philistines are one example. David’s conflict with the Aramaean king Hadadezer in 2 Samuel 8 and 10 is another. The narratives of Joshua through 2 Kings have in common the realization that Israelites need to consider not only how to protect themselves from their enemies and how to fight them, but also how to coexist with them as their neighbors. Between a bloody start and a war-torn ending, the majority of Solomon’s rule presents just such a model of coexistence. Solomon’s Jerusalem, with a glorious and famous Temple for YHWH at its center, flourishes thanks to the king’s many cultural and commercial exchanges with strong allies. The model of a stable and peaceful state outlives Solomon’s rule, providing a

194  Unsettled in the land tangible alternative to endless conflict. Knowledge of one another may lead to collaboration among nations rather than conflict, as in the stories of Benhadad and Ahab and Naaman and Elisha. Both stories illustrate the extent to which positive interactions with strangers actually strengthen each party. Empathy and the humanization of the fiercest of enemies, such as the Philistines, allow Israelites to see them, even in passing, as neighbors who desire prosperity and peace as much as the Israelites. The price of war, including the humiliating treatment of each side’s dead after battle, is portrayed as too high to countenance. Strangers also defy expectations in their stories by acting in unpredictable ways in face of threats of violence. In a surprising number of cases, they provide sanctuary to the Israelites and save their lives. Jethro’s tents are crucial to Moses’ survival. Rahab’s cleverness keeps the spies alive in Jericho. Achish saves David from Saul’s obsessive drive to destroy him. Violence is neither intrinsic nor inevitable in these stories. Coexistence and sanctuary present a powerful and necessary alternative to perpetual conflict.

The contribution of strangers to the development of collective and individual Israelite identity Strangers trigger questions of definition and distinctiveness that are helpful to the formation and structure of a fledgling community. Israelite writers need a ‘them’ to be an ‘us.’ Who belongs and who does not is an urgent question in that endeavor. Values are clarified, and particular beliefs or practices confirmed, giving Israelites the opportunity to learn more about themselves by emphasizing differences with strangers. At other times, strangers provide a clarity lacking in Israelites by praising their strengths and advantages as God’s people. Balaam comes to mind in his praise of the Israelites at a low point in their wilderness wanderings. Naaman the Aramaean commander reminds Israelites of the importance and healing powers of their prophets. In a story such as this we see the permeability – indeed the reversibility – of the category ‘strangers.’ In the eyes of the apprehensive Canaanites, as portrayed in Joshua, the Israelites who cross over the Jordan and enter the land are the strangers. At times Israelite writers enter imaginatively into the minds of others, suggesting ‘this is how they see us,’ thereby altering the ways Israelites see themselves. The formation of identity in relation to others can be quite dynamic, even tumultuous. The proximity of outsiders and the opportunity for sustained or periodic encounters may trigger challenges to one’s basic assumptions, loyalties and values. Eventually a character may reach a crisis point, compelled to question his attachment to his own people. He may resolve such agitation and uncertainty by creating a distance between himself and that other who threatens stable self-coherence. In different ways, both Moses and Samson exemplify the process. Moses permanently separates himself from Jethro and Zipporah at the end of Exodus 18 in order to become

Strangers at the gate  195 God’s prophet and the Israelites’ leader. Samson is unable to maintain his distance from the Philistines to the detriment of their lives and his own. The stakes are high. As put by Cheryl Exum: “The other is both necessary to define the self – to be held onto – and threatening to the self’s identity – to be destroyed.”12 Other characters may wrestle with identity to a lesser degree than Moses or Samson but still experience an inner alienation from their personal past. Alternatively, they may be viewed by others as having crossed a line. During a crucial stage in his life David acts like a Philistine raider. Solomon is an enormous success as a cosmopolitan ruler, the equal of Hiram and the Queen of Sheba, but is seen in the end by the biblical writer as a king estranged from God.

Distinctions among strangers More often than not, biblical writers treat strangers as a generic group that the Israelites must react against or depend upon. As we have seen repeatedly, views of strangers fall on a continuum in which they share traits with each other, positive or negative; present similar challenges and opportunities; play stock characters – the ruthless villain, admirer of YHWH, or savior of an Israelite hero; and must be avoided, fought to a decisive defeat, or turned into allies and trading partners. At the same time, it is possible to discern in the stories told of each people a few unique behaviors and characteristics that acknowledge their distinctions not only from the Israelites but also from one another. Each people has a unique geographic location and setting that anchors its place in the Israelite mapping of the region. Midianites are wanderers who live in tents in the southern wilderness between Egypt and the Promised Land. The seven nations are closely identified with the Promised Land itself, and are spread throughout from the hills to the lowlands, from the entire coast of the Mediterranean Sea to Lebanon on one side and along the River Jordan on the other. Their presence throughout the lands YHWH designates for the Israelites fuels the book of Joshua. The Philistines are in the borderlands on the west but are also urbanites who reside in cities that are named: Ashkelon, Ashdod, Gath, Ekron and Gaza. The Phoenicians in the north are important thanks to the skills of King Hiram of Tyre and his friendship with Solomon as well as Jezebel’s infamy as wife of King Ahab. The Aramaeans come from the east, and are intensively engaged with the Israelites of the Northern Kingdom and somewhat less with Judah though a king of Judah visits Aram-Damascus and sends back to Jerusalem a sketch of an admired altar. The Israelites engage in battles with each of these peoples at some point in their narratives, but as we have seen in prior chapters, manage to build more productive relationships as well. The stories told of each people in turn provide a few suggestive details. We learn of Midianite priests who know the wilderness well enough that Moses

196  Unsettled in the land requests that they guide his people toward the Promised Land. The seven nations are referred to as a unity rather than individual peoples but appear to organize themselves with separate local leaders who come together in military structures to face an outside threat. We learn significantly more of the Philistines who appear to be invested not only in agriculture but in iron works. They are highly organized warriors quite prepared for military excursions and raids on other peoples. They too have their priests and a temple to their god, Dagon. A Greek influence may be detected in the festivities leading up to Samson’s anticipated marriage to a girl from Timnah, especially in the performance of a riddle. The Phoenicians are known not only for their forests and skills in construction and design, but as a people familiar with the sea (1 Kings 9:27). The Aramaeans are also a militant people, organized in towns and cities similar to the Philistines. Biblical writers positively report their willingness to establish treaties with the Israelites. An entourage of advisors follows their kings through their narratives. Thus it is clear that biblical writers have some knowledge of these peoples as distinct entities and do not treat all strangers as one. Nonetheless, as this study has shown, they have but scant interest in exposing their Israelite audience to a deeper familiarity with the religious practices, intellectual and cultural accomplishments or economic successes of the peoples who surround them.

Biblical textual traditions and their final form The wide-ranging collection of stories featuring Israelites and other peoples in the Hebrew Bible has been preserved in its final form because the Bible functions as an anthology whose editors assiduously preserve different textual traditions and versions.13 Readers can discern layers of biblical narratives – early, middle and late – in the interstices and juxtapositions left behind or thanks to comments interjected by a later editor. Luckily, editors felt compelled to preserve those layers as part of a sacred and authoritative record even if their traditions conflicted. Stories with different points of view, when read together, muddy boundaries and defy strict categories, stereotypes and extremes.14 Few of them fall on one extreme of a continuum or the other, but settle in clusters on either side of a porous middle. Such an outcome is built into an anthology compiled over many hundreds of years. Biblical writers may express hostility toward strangers in the stories that they tell. Other voices reveal a generosity or empathy toward outsiders in their tales. Some writers recognize and seek to reinforce the benefits of cross-pollination in cultural and intellectual exchanges. A writer may come to acknowledge the limits and repercussions of a polarization that binds a people to unceasing and unwinnable conflict while another seeks to rally the people against a threat on the borders. Realism may temper too virulent or inflammatory a portrait of strangers who live nearby, or work to complicate too naïve a view. The skill and art of a writer who relies on nuance and complexity may aid in reducing caricature and stereotype.

Strangers at the gate  197 But later editors do not simply cut and paste but also influence the stories that come into their hands. Editors may find ways to signal their preferences for one view versus another. They may choose to exaggerate differences or commonalities between Israelites and strangers. The combination of multiple writers and later editorial practices results in the continuum of views and emotions illustrated throughout this study, creating a sweeping conversation, breathtaking in scope, that easily encompasses competing narratives of Israelites and the strangers at their gate. The final form results in a complex balance of views, a key finding of this study. Such a balance would have served Israelites well as they continued to navigate relationships with neighbors, strangers and conquerors, and survive, both in their land and in exile. As put by F. V. Greifenhagen, “Straying too far in the direction of contrastive identity leads to violent dualisms while an unbalanced embrace of complementary identity leads to suffocating assimilation.”15 The Hebrew Bible avoids such extremes thanks to its editors’ insistence on preserving the range of its traditions.

In the end The Hebrew Bible was, and is still, perceived by many of its readers as an internal record of the people Israel and their God, an inside book for a likeminded crowd. Yet, whether or not they wanted to ignore strangers or pretend that they were irrelevant, biblical writers were forced to deal with the other peoples that surrounded them. The degree to which strangers played a significant role in the lives of Israelites in these stories was the major surprise of this work to its author. I didn’t need to diligently search for strangers in obscure legends or fragments of tales. In numerous stories they were right there on every border, or at times, within the land itself. Each biblical book analyzed in this study, from Exodus and Joshua to Judges, 1 and 2 Samuel through 1 and 2 Kings, contained brief or extensive encounters with strangers that meaningfully contributed to who Israelites were and became. Israelites were unique but lived in an interconnected world with other peoples. How to live with these other peoples was a continuing and increasingly pressing question. Less obvious is the fact that many of these stories were preserved in their final form under the threat or reality of exile and its very real consequences for the people Israel. Being at home had never been a guarantee for Israelites living in a world in which more powerful peoples and nations held sway. The threat of becoming strangers in another land was ever-present. It exposed the transitory nature of rootedness, sovereignty, and even worship of YHWH. In light of the increasingly real possibility of exile over the course of the biblical books we have examined, notions of ‘us’ versus ‘them’ lost some of their power as a meaningful argument for unity. Israelites faced the threat of dissolution and a return to the wilderness in which their ancestors spent significant time. Israelites once were strangers. Might

198  Unsettled in the land they become strangers again? By the time the stories were given final form by biblical editors, the nightmare had come to pass. The chronological arc from Exodus and Joshua through 2 Kings exposes that fear as a reality. The Israelites begin the story living on the outside as they leave Egypt behind and traverse the wilderness. Joshua records their move from the outside in to settle the land. Conquest and exile at the hands of the Assyrians and Babylonians force the Israelites to move from the inside out. Jeanette Mathews traces that path into and out of the Promised Land: The community portrayed in Deuteronomy could be described as a refugee camp on the River Jordan, which formed the border between Moab and Canaan, made up of the second generation of a people whose flight from oppression landed them in a no-man’s land for forty years in spite of their hopes for a better future. If the Babylonian exile was the impetus for a re-presentation of the tradition, then the audience was again landless, further removed from the land of promise but again camped by a river, at the mercy of their captors. . . .16 Perhaps that ironic and poignant awareness of the Israelite experience explains a biblical counter-tradition that has generated a constructive, pragmatic and empathetic, if not always obvious, view of strangers at the gate who might be us.

Notes 1 As articulated by my colleague Eilon Schwartz in a personal communication. 2 George Saunders, “Trump Days,” The New Yorker, July 11 and 18, 2016, 61. 3 Jonathan Haidt, The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion (New York: Vintage Books, 2012), 178–179. 4 Jonathan Haidt, “Moral Psychology and the Misunderstanding of Religion,” on Edge, org, 2007. www.edge.org/conversation/moral-psychology-and-the-misunder standing-of-religion. 5 Haidt, The Righteous Mind, xxiii. 6 David Frankel, The Land of Canaan and the Destiny of Israel (Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 2011), 73. 7 For his discussion of Ulf, see Lukasz Niesiolowski-Spano, Goliath’s Legacy Philistines and Hebrews in Biblical Times, trans. Maria Kantor (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2016), 260–263. 8 Ibid., 262. 9 Niesiolowski-Spano notes that the number and quality of exchanges between peoples influence attitudes as well, which may account for the more moderate view of the Israelites toward the Philistines in 1 Samuel 13:19–21. He argues that opportunities for exchange depend on ‘open’ or ‘intense’ contact zones, 262–263. 10 Jonathan Blake, “Ritual Contention in Divided Societies: Participation in Loyalist Parades in Northern Ireland,” (PhD diss., Columbia University, 2015), 269. 11 Laurence Silberstein, “Others Within and Others Without: Rethinking Jewish Identity and Culture,” in The Other in Jewish Thought, eds. Laurence Silberstein and Robert Cohn (New York: New York University Press, 1994), 6.

Strangers at the gate  199 12 J. Cheryl Exum, Fragmented Women, Feminist (Sub)Versions of Biblical Narratives (Valley Forge, Pennsylvania: Trinity Press International, 1993), 85. 13 Jeffrey Tigay’s early work has influenced my understanding of the Hebrew Bible as an anthology. See in particular: The Evolution of the Gilgamesh Epic (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1982), and Empirical Models for Biblical Criticism, principal author and editor (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1985). 14 Stephen Cornell, “That’s the Story of Our Life: Ethnicity and Narrative, Rupture and Power,” in We Are a People: Narrative and Multiplicity in the Construction of Ethnic Identity, eds. Paul R. Spickard and W. Jeffrey Burroughs (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2000), 50. 15 Franz Volker Greifenhagen, Egypt on the Pentateuch’s Ideological Map, JSOT 361 (Great Britain: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002), 270. 16 Jeanette Mathews, “Deuteronomy 30: Faithfulness in the Refugee Camps of Moab, Babylonia and Beyond,” in Bible, Borders, Belonging(s) Engaging Readings From Oceania, eds. Jione Havea, David J. Neville and Elaine M. Wainwright (Atlanta: SBL, 2014), 160.

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Bibliography 203 Day, John, Robert P. Gordon and Hugh Godfrey M. Williamson, editors. Wisdom in Ancient Israel Essays in Honour of J. A. Emerton. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Diamant, Sarah. “Group Identity in the Hebrew Bible: Moab as a Case of Israelite Self- Identity.” PhD diss., Jewish Theological Seminary, 2008. Dothan, Trude and Robert L. Cohn. “The Philistine as Other: Biblical Rhetoric and Archaeological Reality.” In The Other in Jewish Thought and History, Constructions of Jewish Culture and Identity, edited by Laurence J. Silberstein and Robert L. Cohn, 61–73. New York, London: New York University Press, 1994. Douglas, Mary. Purity and Danger. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1966. Dozeman, Thomas B. “The Midianites in the Formation of the Book of Numbers.” In The Books of Leviticus and Numbers, edited by Thomas Römer, 261–284. Leuven-Paris-Dudley, MA: Uitgeverij Peeters, 2008. Dubovsky, Peter. “Assyrian Downfall Through Isaiah’s Eyes (2 Kings 15–23): The Historiography of Representation.” Biblica 89, 1 (2008): 1–16. Ehrlich, Carl S. “Philistines.” In The Oxford Companion to the Bible, edited by Bruce Metzger and Michael Coogan, 591–592. New York: Oxford University Press, 1993. Emilsen, William W. and John T. Squires. “Introduction.” In Validating ViolenceViolating Faith? Religion, Scripture and Violence, edited by William W. Emilsen and John T. Squires, xiii–xvi. Adelaide: ATF, 2008. Exum, J Cheryl. Fragmented Women, Feminist (Sub)Versions of Biblical Narratives. Valley Forge, Pennsylvania: Trinity Press International, 1993. Exum, J. Cheryl and J. William Whedbee. “Isaac, Samson and Saul: Reflections on the Comic and Tragic Vision.” Tragedy and Comedy in the Bible Semeia 32 (1985): 5–40. Fewell, Danna Nolan. “Joshua.” In Women’s Bible Commentary, edited by Carol Newsom and Sharon Ringe, 69–72. Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press, 1998. ———. “A Broken Halleluljah: Remembering David, Justice, and the Cost of the House.” In The Fate of King David: The Past and Present of a Biblical Icon, edited by Tod Linafelt, Claudia V. Camp and Timothy Beal, 101–122. New York, London: T & T Clark, 2010. Finkelstein, Israel and Amihai Mazar. “Solomon.” In The Quest for the Historical Israel Debating Archaeology and the History of Early Israel, edited by Brian B. Schmidt, 244–264. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2007. Fox, Everett. The Five Books of Moses. New York: Schocken Books, 1995. Frankel, David. The Land of Canaan and the Destiny of Israel. Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 2011. Freud, Sigmund. The Interpretation of Dreams. Translated by James Strachey. New York: Avon Books, 1965. Frymer-Kensky, Tikva. “Reading Rahab.” In Tehillah le-Moshe, edited by Mordechai Cogan, Barry Eichler and Jeffrey Tigay, 57–67. Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 1997. Galil, Gershon. “David and Hazael: War, Peace, Stones and Memory.” Palestine Exploration Quarterly 139, 2 (2007): 79–84. ———. “David, King of Israel, Between the Arameans and the Northern and Southern Sea Peoples in Light of New Epigraphic and Archaeological Data.” In Internationales Jahrbuch fur die Altertumskunde Syrien-Palastinas, edited by Manfried

204  Bibliography Dietrich and Oswald Loretz, 159–174. Germany: Herstellung: Hubert and Co, 2013. ———. “A Concise History of Palistin/Patin/Unqu/’mq in the 11th-9th Centuries BC.” Semitica 56 (2014): 75–104. Geertz, Clifford. “Centers, Kings and Charisma: Reflections on the Symbolics of Power.” In Culture and Its Creators, Essays in Honor of Edward Shils, edited by Raymond Aron, Edward Shils, Joseph Ben-David and Terry N. Clark, 150–171. Chicago, London: The University of Chicago Press, 1977. Geobey, Ronald A. “The Jeroboam Story in the (Re)Formulation of Israelite Identity: Evaluating the Literary-Ideological Purposes of I Kings 11:14.” Journal of Hebrew Scriptures 16, 2 (2016): 1–35. Gillmayr-Bucher, Susanne. “ ‘She Came to Test Him With Hard Questions’: Foreign Women and Their View on Israel.” Biblical Interpretation 15 (2007): 135–150. Gordon, Robert P. “A House Divided: Wisdom in Old Testament Narrative Traditions.” In Wisdom in Ancient Israel in Honour of J. A. Emerton, edited by John Day, Robert P. Gordon and Hugh Godfrey M. Williamson, 94–105. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Greenstein, Edward. “The God of Israel and the Gods of Canaan: How Different Were they?” In Proceedings of the Twelfth World Congress of Jewish Studies (1999– 2000)-Division A: The Bible and Its World (1997) 47–58. Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2001. ———. “Jethro’s Wit: An Interpretation of Wordplay in Exodus 18.” In On the Way to Nineveh, edited by Stephen L. Cook and Sara C. Winter, 155–171. Atlanta, Georgia: Scholars Press, 1999. Greifenhagen, Franz Volker. Egypt on the Pentateuch’s Ideological Map JSOT 361. Great Britain: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002. Grossman, David. Lion’s Honey. Translated by Stuart Schoffman. Edinburgh, New York, Melbourne: Canongate, 2006. Gruen, Erich S. Rethinking the Other in Antiquity. Princeton, Oxford: Princeton University Press, 2011. Haidt, Jonathan. “Moral Psychology and the Misunderstanding of Religion.” Septem­ ber 21, 2007. www.edge.org/conversation/moral-psychology-and-the-misunderstand ing-of-religion ———. The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion. New York: Vintage Books, 2012. Hall, Sarah Lebhar. Conquering Character. New York: T & T Clark, 2010. Halpern, Baruch. David’s Secret Demons Messiah Murderer Traitor King. Grand Rapids Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2001. Halpern, Baruch and Andre Lemaire. “The Composition of Kings.” In The Books of Kings Sources, Composition, Historiography and Reception, edited by Andre Lemaire and Baruch Halpern, 123–153. Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2010. Handler Spitz, Ellen. “Promethean Positions.” In Freud and Forbidden Knowledge, edited by Peter L. Rudnytsky and Ellen Handler Spitz, 26–41. New York, London: New York University Press, 1994. Havrelock, Rachel. “The Two Maps of Israel’s Land.” JBL 126, 4 (2007): 649–667. Hawk, L. Daniel. “The Problem with Pagans.” In Reading Bibles, Writing Bodies, edited by Timothy Beal and David Gunn, 153–163. London, New York: Routledge, 1997. ———. Joshua, Berit Olam. Collegeville, Minnesota: The Liturgical Press, 2000.

Bibliography 205 ———. “Conquest Reconfigured: Recasting Warfare in the Redaction of Joshua.” In Writing and Reading War, Rhetoric, Gender and Ethics in Biblical and Modern Contexts, edited by Brad Kelle and Frank Ritchel Ames, 145–160. Atlanta: Society for Biblical Literature, 2008. Hendel, Ronald. “Israel Among the Nations.” In Cultures of the Jews, edited by David Biale, 43–76. New York: Schocken Books, 2002. ———. Remembering Abraham. Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press, 2005. Hobbs, T. R. “Naaman.” In The Anchor Bible Dictionary v. 4, edited by David Noel Freedman, 967–968. New York: Doubleday, 1992. Janzen, Waldemar. “Jethro in the Structure of the Book of Exodus.” In The Old Testament in the Life of God’s People, edited by Jon Isaak, 159–172. Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 2009. Jobling, David. “’Forced Labor’: Solomon’s Golden Age and the Question of Literary Representation.” In Poststructuralism as Exegesis, Semeia 54, edited by David Jobling and Stephen Moore, 57–76. Atlanta, GA: Scholars Press, 1992. Jobling, David and Catherine Rose. “Reading as a Philistine: The Ancient and Modern History of a Cultural Slur.” In Ethnicity and the Bible, edited by Mark Brett, 381–417. Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2002. Junior, Nyasha and Jeremy Schipper. “Mosaic Disability and Identity in Exodus 4:10; 6:12, 30.” Biblical Interpretation 16 (2008): 428–441. Kalmanofsky, Amy. Dangerous Sisters of the Hebrew Bible. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2014. Kaminsky, Joel. Yet I Loved Jacob. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2007. Kearney, Richard. Strangers, Gods and Monsters. London: Routledge, 2003. ———. “Guest or Enemy? Welcoming the Stranger.” June, 2012. www.abc.net.au/ religion/articles/2012/06/21/3529859.htm Kidd, Jose E. Ramirez. Alterity and Identity in Israel: The ‫ גר‬in the Old Testament. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1999. Killebrew, Ann E. Biblical Peoples and Ethnicity: An Archaeological Study of Egyptians, Canaanites, Philistines and Early Israel. Leiden: Brill, 2005. Kitchen, Kenneth A. “Sheba and Arabia.” In The Age of Solomon Scholarship at the Turn of the Millennium, edited by Lowell K. Handy, 127–153. Leiden: Brill, 1997. Knoppers, Gary N. “Theories of the Redaction(s) of Kings.” In The Books of Kings Sources, Composition, Historiography and Reception, edited by Andre Lemaire and Baruch Halpern, 69–88. Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2010. Kugel, James L. The God of Old, Inside the Lost World of the Bible. New York: The Free Press, 2003. Landy, Francis. “Are We in the Place of Averroes? Response to the Articles of Exum and Whedbee, Buss, Gottwald, and Good.” Semeia 32 (1984): 131–148. ———. “David and Ittai.” In The Fate of King David: The Past and Present of a Biblical Icon, edited by Tod Linafelt, Claudia V. Camp and Timothy Beal, 19–37. New York, London: T & T Clark, 2010. Lemaire, Andre. “Wisdom in Solomonic Historiography.” In Wisdom in Ancient Israel Essays in Honour of J. A. Emerton, edited by John Day, Robert P. Gordon and Hugh Godfrey M. Williamson, 106–118. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Leveen, Adriane. “Reading the Seams.” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 29, 3 (2005): 259–287, SAGE Publications. ———. Memory and Tradition in the Book of Numbers. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008.

206  Bibliography ———. “Inside Out: Jethro, the Midianites and a Biblical Construction of the Outsider.” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 34, 4 (2010): 395–417, SAGE Publications. Levenson, Jon. “From Temple to Synagogue: I Kings 8.” In Traditions in Transformation: Turning Points in Biblical Faith, edited by Baruch Halpern and Jon D. Levenson, 143–166. Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 1981. Linafelt, Tod, Claudia V. Camp and Timothy Beal. “Introduction: On David and David.” In The Fate of King David: The Past and Present of a Biblical Icon, edited by Tod Linafelt, Claudia V. Camp and Timothy Beal, xiii–xxvi. New York, London: T & T Clark, 2010. Linville, James Richard. Israel in the Book of Kings: The Past as a Project of Social Identity. Sheffield, England: Sheffield Academic Press, 1998. Lipschitz, Oded. “The History of Israel in the Biblical Period.” In The Jewish Study Bible, 2nd edition, edited by Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler, 2107–2119. New York: Oxford University Press, 2014. Liverani, Mario. “The Books of Kings and Ancient Near Eastern Historiography.” In The Books of Kings Sources, Composition, Historiography and Reception, edited by Andre Lemaire and Baruch Halpern, 163–184. Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2010. Machinist, Peter. “Outsiders or Insiders: The Biblical View of Emergent Israel and Its Contexts.” In The Other in Jewish Thought and History, edited by Laurence J. Silberstein and Robert L. Cohn, 35–60. New York: New York University Press, 1994. ———. “The Rab Saqeh at the Wall of Jerusalem: Israelite Identity in the Face of the Assyrian ‘Other.’ ” Hebrew Studies 41 (2000): 151–168. McKenzie, Steven L. King David: A Biography. Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. McKinlay, Judith E. “Slipping Across Borders and Bordering on Conquest: A Contrapuntal Reading of Numbers 13.” In Bible, Borders, Belonging(s), Engaging Readings From Oceania, edited by Jione Havea, David J. Neville and Elaine M. Wainwright, 125–142. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2014. McNutt, Paula. ‘ “Fathers of the Empty Spaces’ and ‘Strangers Forever’: Social Marginality and the Construction of Space.” In Imagining Biblical Worlds, edited by David M. Gunn and Paula McNutt, 30–50. London: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002. Mathews, Jeanette. “Deuteronomy 30: Faithfulness in the Refugee Camps of Moab, Babylonia and Beyond.” In Bible, Borders, Belonging(s) Engaging Readings From Oceania, edited by Jione Havea, David J. Neville and Elaine M. Wainwright, 157– 170. Atlanta: SBL, 2014. Matthews, Victor H. “Introduction.” In Writing and Reading War, Rhetoric, Gender and Ethics in Biblical and Modern Contexts, edited by Brad E. Kelle and Frank Ritchel Ames, 1–15. Atlanta: SBL, 2008. Mazar, Amihai. “The Lands of the Bible.” In Assyria to Iberia at the Dawn of the Classical Age, edited by Joan Aruz, Sarah B. Graff and Yelena Rakic, 171–175. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, distributed by New Haven, London: Yale University Press, 2014. Milgrom, Jacob. JPS Torah Commentary Numbers. Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1990. Millard, A. R. “Aram.” In The Dictionary of the Ancient Near East, edited by Piotr Bienkowski and Alan Millard, 27. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2000.

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Index

1 or 2 Kings (book): see under K 1 or 2 Samuel (book): see under S Aaron 30 – 1, 38 – 9 Abinadab 114 Abraham (patriarch) 1 – 3, 82 – 3 Abshalom 129, 164, 186n16 Achan 56, 74n36 Achish (king) 120 – 6, 129, 135 Adoni-zedek (king) 60 affiliations 8 – 9, 22n25; see also alliances; ethnicity; kin relationships Ahab (king) 164 – 71 Ahaz (king) 180 Ahijah of Shiloh (prophet) 150 – 2 Ai (city) 55 – 8 alliances 75n54; Ahab–Ben-hadad 167 – 9; with David 129, 131 – 2nn28 – 29 (see also Achish (king); Ittai the Gittite); fluidity and weaknesses of 151, 156n43; Isaac–Avimelech 83; with Solomon 133, 136 – 40, 148; see also Aram/Aramaeans; coexistence; commerce and trade; contact and exchanges; strangers/neighbors Alter, Robert 111, 116 Amalekites 1, 32 Ammonites 163, 186n13 Amorites 54 – 5, 60 – 1 Amos 84 – 5 Anakites 48, 63 – 6 Aram/Aramaeans 185n1, 196; biblical and literary context 162, 181 – 2; David or Solomon and 149 – 51; Israel and 3, 15, 19, 159 – 85, 185n9; as religious or military threat 162 – 81; Sea Peoples and 131 – 2n29 Ark of the Covenant 109 – 12, 142 Asa (king) 164 Ashdod (city) 111 – 12

Assyria/Assyrians 180 – 4, 187n39, 192 Avimelech (king) 2 – 3, 82 – 3, 92, 104n9 Axskjold, Carl-Johan 162 Baasha (king) 164 Babylon/Babylonians 183 – 5, 198; see also Nebuchadnezzar (king) Baden, Joel 80, 119, 122, 148 – 9 Balaam (prophet) 162 bans: see herem Barth, Fredrik 10 Beal, Timothy 59 Beit-Shemesh (city) 113 – 15 Ben-hadad (king) 164 – 70, 177 – 8, 186n17 the Bible/biblical narratives 8 – 9, 14 – 19, 190 – 2, 195 – 8; poetic 85, 94, 98; violence/warfare and 20 (see also violence and conflict) Blake, Jonathan 193 borderlands/borders/boundaries 12 – 13, 86, 111, 113 – 14; ethnic 175; geographic 80, 190; role of storytelling 104n6; see also Philistia/ Philistines; strangers/neighbors Brett, Mark G. 10 Brettler, Marc 144 Caleb 64 – 5 Camp, Claudia 8, 10 – 11, 30 – 1 Canaan/Canaanites 3, 46 – 7, 72n11, 194; see also Rahab Cataldo, Jeremiah 11 – 12 circumcision 31, 54, 88 Clark, Merilyn 29 – 30 coexistence 102, 130, 133 – 48, 169, 193 – 4; see also alliances; strangers/ neighbors Cohn, Robert L. 101 Collins, John 13 – 15

Index  211 commerce and trade 116, 130, 155 – 6n33; see also contact and exchanges; Hiram of Tyre (king); Solomon (king) companions 89, 91 – 2, 101 conflict: see violence and conflict conquest theme 70 – 1, 191; see also Israel/Israelites contact and exchanges 12 – 13, 19, 189 – 93, 198n9; see also Samson; Solomon (king) covenants and treaties 54, 57; Ahab– Ben-Hadad 167 – 9; Avimelech and 83, 92; ceremony 69, 141; Gibeonites–Israelites 59 – 61; Solomon–Hiram 138; threats to/ violations of 3, 192; YHWH–Israel 9 – 10, 142, 183, 192; YHWH–Moses 31; YHWH–Phineas 38 – 9; see also Ark of the Covenant; circumcision crimson color 51 – 2 Crusemann, Frank 3 Cushite woman 39, 44n37 Dagon 98, 111 Dan (tribe)/Danites 103, 105n15 David (king) 117 – 28, 131n21, 131 – 2nn28 – 29, 133, 135, 137, 142, 150 – 1; account of reign/narratives 108 – 9; Achish and 120 – 6; Aram and 163 – 4; Goliath and 117 – 19; Philistines and 127 – 8 deception: see disguise/deception Delilah 95 – 7 Deuteronomy (book) 3 – 4, 21n13; Chapter 4 5n21; Chapter 17 3; Chapter 24 6; Chapters 26 – 27 6; Chapter 31 6, 51 Diamant, Sarah 44nn35 – 6 disguise/deception 170 – 1; see also David (king); Gibeonites Dothan, Trude 101 Dozeman, T. B. 33, 38 – 9 Edomites 3 – 4, 150 – 1 Egypt/Egyptians 28 – 31, 34, 110, 113, 150 – 2 Ekron (city) 112 Eli (priest) 109 – 10 Eliab 118 Elijah (prophet) 164 – 5 Eli’s daughter-in-law: see Phinehas’s wife (Eli’s daughter-in-law) Elisha (prophet) 171 – 8 Emim 65

enemies 193; see also humiliation of enemies; strangers/neighbors; violence and conflict ethnicity 8, 42n11, 181 – 2; see also identity formation ethnogenesis in biblical narrative 8 – 9 exile/threat of exile 143 – 4, 183 – 5, 189, 192, 197 – 8 Exodus (book) 4; Chapter 2 28; Chapter 15 84; Chapter 18 30 – 3, 36 – 7 exodus theme 191; see also strangers/ neighbors Exum, J. Cheryl 195 family ties 29, 32 – 3; see also kin relationships Fewell, Danna Nolan 69, 72n11 fire imagery 93, 105n31; see also sexual desire/fantasy/imagery foreigners 7, 19, 143; see also gods (foreign); non-Israelites; strangers/ neighbors foreign marriages/wives/women 10 – 11, 87 – 8, 90 – 1, 98 – 9; Ahab–Jezebel 165, 169; Solomon 134 – 5, 143, 149 – 50, 152 – 3; see also Moses; Zipporah Frankel, David 191 Gadites: see Israel/Israelites: two and one-half tribes gate imagery: see threshold figures and imagery Gath (city) 112, 119 – 22, 127, 135 Geertz, Clifford 160, 168, 178 Gehazi 174 – 5 Genesis: Chapters 1 – 12 2 – 3, 21n4; Chapter 16 2; Chapters 20 – 21 2 the ger [pl. gerim; sojourner(s)] 5 – 7, 22nn17 – 18, 22n20, 57 – 8 Gerar 20n1 giants 75n50; see also Anakites; Goliath Gibeonites 58 – 60, 70 God: see YHWH gods (foreign) 3 – 4, 7; influence/threat of 37 – 8, 191 – 2; Israelite worship of 67 – 70, 114; Solomon and 133 – 4, 143, 149 – 53; see also Dagon; idolatry; Rimmon Goliath 117 – 19, 131n14 Greifenhagen, Franz Volker 22n23, 197 Grossman, David 87 – 8, 90, 92

212 Index Hadadezer (king) 131 – 2n29, 151, 163 Hadad the Edomite 150 – 1, 156n43 Hagar 2 – 3 Haidt, Jonathan 190 – 1 harlots 49, 52, 73n18; see also Rahab Hawk, L. Daniel 70 – 1 Hazael (king) 164, 177 – 9, 187n36 Hazor (city) 61 – 2 Hebron (city) 64 – 6, 122 hemorrhoids 111 – 12 Hendel, Ronald 9, 18, 41, 134 herem 14, 55 – 7, 73n21, 74n36 hesed 51, 73n25 Hezekiah (king) 184 Hiram of Tyre (king) 137 – 40, 145, 148, 152 – 3, 155 – 6n33 Hobab 37, 43 – 4n32, 43nn31 – 32 Holy of Holies: see Temple in Jerusalem Hophni (Eli’s son) 109 – 10 Hoshea, son of Elah 183 House of God: see Temple in Jerusalem humiliation of enemies 74n40, 74n43, 95 – 6, 111 – 12, 130 identity formation 9, 22n23; collective 9 – 10, 45, 48, 54 – 5, 67 – 9, 189 – 90; gender and 10 – 12; individual (see Moses; Samson); markers of 48 (see also circumcision); religious 30; role of battles and conflict 48, 54; role of covenant (see covenants and treaties); role of strangers and the other 10, 27 – 8, 45, 69, 194 – 5; see also ethnicity; YHWH identity politics 59, 75n55 idolatry 145, 153, 163 – 4, 183; see also foreign marriages/wives/women; gods (foreign); Midian/Midianites; Moab/ Moabites insiders/outsiders 46 – 7, 56, 74n42, 151 – 2, 187n35; see also Achan; Jethro; Naaman; Rahab; Samson; strangers/neighbors Isaac (patriarch) 79, 81 – 3, 92 Isaiah (prophet) 84 – 5 Israel/Israelites 1 – 2, 9; conquest/ defense of the land 14 – 15, 46, 48 – 57, 61 – 6, 72n7, 72n12, 74n38 (see also conquest theme; violence and conflict); distinctions from Midianites 30; two and one-half tribes 48, 63, 66 – 7, 69; see also identity formation: collective; under various tribes Ittai the Gittite 127, 129

Jabin of Hazor (king) 61 – 2 Jehoahaz (king) 179 Jehoash (king) 179 Jehoiakim (king) 184 Jehoshaphat (king) 170 Jericho (city) 49 – 50, 55, 73n19 Jeroboam (king) 150 – 2, 156n41 Jerusalem (city) 17, 133, 139, 141 – 2, 179, 183 – 4 Jethro 27 – 30, 42n7; Moses and 30 – 6; recognition of YHWH 32, 34 – 5, 38 Jethro’s daughters 28 – 9; see also Zipporah Jezebel (queen) 165, 186n18 Joab 135, 150 – 1 Joash (king) 179 Jobling, David 11, 127, 129 – 30, 134 Jonathan 116 – 18, 126 – 7 Jordan River 53 – 4, 74n31, 173 Joshua (book) 4, 48, 193 – 5, 198; Chapters 11 – 15 62 – 4; Chapters 23 – 24 68 – 9 Joshua (person) 48, 56 – 7, 67 – 9, 189 Josiah (king) 133 Judah (tribe/kingdom)/Judahites 63 – 4, 93 – 4, 122 – 3, 160 – 2, 179 – 85 Judges (book) 44n44, 80 – 1, 85 – 6, 100 – 3; Chapters 6 – 8 40; Chapters 14 – 16 88 – 99; Chapter  19 15 Kaminsky, Joel 36 – 7 Kearney, Richard 7, 46, 62 Keilah (village) 121 Killebrew, Ann 8 – 9, 47, 103 – 4n2 Kimhi, David (rabbi): see Radak 1 Kings (book): Chapters 8 – 11 140 – 51, 155nn20 – 21; Chapter  20 167, 169 2 Kings (book) 4; Chapters 5 – 8 171 – 8; Chapters 12 – 13 179; Chapters 15 – 17 180, 183 kings and kingship 4 – 6, 54, 107, 144; see also David (king); Saul (king); Solomon (king); under various names kin relationships 3 – 4, 189; see also Aram/Aramaeans; Edomites; Egypt/ Egyptians; family ties; Midian/ Midianites Kiriath-arba: see Hebron (city) Laish (town) 103 Landy, Francis 100 leadership: see kings and kingship

Index  213 Lemaire, Andre 5 lepers/leprosy 176 – 7; see also Naaman Levenson, Jon 142, 155nn20 – 21 Levites/Levitical tasks 22n18, 113 Leviticus (book) 6 lion imagery 88 – 9 Lipschitz, Oded 16 literary approaches: see the Bible/ biblical narratives loyalty: see hesed Machinist, Peter 11, 40 Manassah (tribe): see Israel/Israelites: two and one-half tribes marginal status 100; see also Rahab Mathews, Jeanette 198 Mazar, Amihai 160 McKenzie, Steven L. 120 – 1 men, role of 10; see also identity formation: gender and Micaiah (prophet) 170 Midian/Midianites 44n44, 150 – 1; conflation with Moabites 37 – 9, 44n35; influence of 37 – 9; Moses and 11, 27 – 33; negative view of 40 – 1, 41 – 2n1, 43n31; see also Jethro; Jethro’s daughters military service/success 14, 74n33, 74n43, 74n46; see also warfare Mitchell, Gordon 57, 71 Moab/Moabites 4, 37 – 9, 44n35 the monarchy: see kings and kingship Moses 27 – 33, 43n21, 155n21; Cushite woman and 39, 44n37; identity formation 29 – 30, 194 – 5; Jethro and 30 – 6; wife 11, 33, 39 (see also Zipporah) Mullen, E. Theodore, Jr. 149 – 50 Naaman 7, 171 – 6 Nazirite status 85 – 9 Nebuchadnezzar (king) 160, 184 neighbors: see strangers/neighbors nephilim: see giants Niditch, Susan 15, 55 Niesiolowski-Spano, Lukasz 191, 198n9 the nochri (foreigner): see foreigners non-Israelites 45, 50 – 2, 73nn24 – 25; see also insiders/outsiders; strangers/neighbors Northern Kingdom 159 – 61, 180 – 4, 187n46 Numbers (book) 37 – 9, 65 – 6

the other 10 – 12, 21n6, 29, 43n19, 43n27, 70 – 1, 190; see also identity formation; strangers/neighbors outsiders/insiders: see insiders/outsiders Passover celebration 54 Pekah, son of Remaliah (king) 180 pharaohs/daughters of pharaohs 28, 34, 135, 145, 151 Philistia/Philistines 79 – 102, 103 – 4n2, 105 – 6n35, 107 – 14, 195 – 6; David and (see David (king)); role of 129; Samson and (see Samson); see also Achish (king) Phinehas (Aaron’s grandson) 27, 38 Phinehas (Eli’s son) 109 – 10 Phinehas’s wife (Eli’s daughter-in-law) 110 Phoenicia/Phoenicians 138, 186n18, 195 – 6; see also Hiram of Tyre (king) Polzin, Robert 115 prayer and supplication 140 – 4, 155n24 Promised Land: see Israel/Israelites prophets: see Ahijah of Shiloh (prophet); Balaam (prophet); Elijah (prophet); Elisha (prophet); Isaiah (prophet); Micaiah (prophet); Samuel (prophet) Propp, William H. C. 43n21 prostitutes 73n18; see also Rahab puns: see riddles and puns Queen of Sheba 145 – 8, 155 – 6n33 Radak 32 Rahab 11, 49 – 53, 70, 74n36, 74n42; marginal status 73n18; recognition of YHWH and Israel 51, 73n22; spies and 55 – 6, 72n15, 73n20 Rebecca (matriarch) 82, 162 recrimination/retribution: see revenge Reubenites: see Israel/Israelites: two and one-half tribes Reuel: see Jethro revenge 39, 85, 93 – 9, 180 Rezin (king) 180 Rezon of Aram (king) 150 – 1, 164 riddles and puns 87, 94, 105n25, 146 Rimmon 174 Rose, Catherine 11, 127, 129 – 30 Sader, Helene 159 Samson 85 – 100; as agent/instrument of God 80 – 1, 91, 96, 100, 105n23; betrayal of 91 – 2, 95 – 7; identity formation 86, 100, 195; see also women: Philistine

214 Index 1 Samuel (book) 107 – 16 2 Samuel (book) 127 – 8, 150 – 1, 163 – 4 Samuel (prophet) 107, 114 – 15 Sarah (matriarch) 2 – 3 Saul (king) 108 – 9, 115 – 17, 119, 124 – 7 Saunders, George 190 scouts: see spies Seibert, Eric 4 Sennacherib (king) 184 servants 172, 181 – 2; see also Ahab (king); Ben-hadad (king); Gehazi seven nations 6, 70, 159, 189, 195 – 6; see also Amorites; Canaan/ Canaanites sexual desire/fantasy/imagery 40, 82, 91, 97, 105n31; see also fire imagery Shishak (king) 152 Sidonians: see Phoenicia/Phoenicians Silberstein, Laurence 193 Solomon (king) 133 – 56, 155nn20 – 21; see also alliances; covenants and treaties; foreign marriages/wives/ women; gods (foreign) Southern Kingdom: see Judah (tribe/ kingdom)/Judahites Spano, Lukasz Niesiolowski: see Niesiolowski-Spano, Lukasz spies 48 – 51, 65 Spina, Frank 45 – 6, 171 – 2 Stager, Lawrence 79 – 80 stone imagery 60, 146 – 8 strangers/neighbors 45 – 6, 70, 72n2, 144, 184, 189 – 98; approach to/ biblical perception of 5, 7, 11 – 12, 47, 153; coexistence with 63, 83, 161 (see also coexistence); fluidity of categories 28, 31, 41, 61 – 2; humiliation of (see humiliation of enemies); recognition of YHWH 4 (see also Jethro; Naaman; Rahab); role of 3, 69 – 70, 73n25, 161 (see also identity formation); see also Achish (king); alliances; Aram/ Aramaeans; Balaam (prophet); Canaan/Canaanites; foreigners; Hiram of Tyre (king); insiders/ outsiders; the other; Philistia/ Philistines Tappy, Ronald 86 Temple in Jerusalem 138 – 44, 155n29, 184 tent imagery 27 – 9, 33

threshold figures and imagery 52, 73n27; see also Rahab; Samson Tiglath-pileser (king) 180, 187n39, 187n46 Timnah (town) 86 – 9, 91 toilet humor 111 trade: see commerce and trade treaties: see covenants and treaties tribes of Israel: see Dan (tribe)/Danites; Israel/Israelites; Judah (tribe/ kingdom)/Judahites Tubb, Jonathan N. 103 – 4n2 tumors: see hemorrhoids Tyre 186n18; see also Hiram of Tyre (king) Vaka’uta, Nasili 49, 72n15 van Houten, Christiana 5 – 6, 22n17 violence and conflict 4, 192 – 4; biblical ideology and 13 – 15; exaggeration of 62, 193; opposition to/questioning of 15; religion and 20, 39; against women 14; see also Israel/Israelites: conquest/defense of the land; military service/success; warfare wall and window imagery: see threshold figures and imagery warfare 63, 67, 74n33; see also humiliation of enemies; military service/success; violence and conflict Weitzman, Steven 142, 144, 146, 183 wisdom/wisdom literature 136 – 8 women: atypical 52; exploitation of 10 – 11, 49, 88, 92; foreign (see foreign marriages/wives/women); role of 12, 50, 72n15 (see also identity formation: gender and) Wright, Jacob 14, 108, 121 – 2 Yadin, Azzan 89 Yeter 44n44; see also Jethro YHWH 21n2, 73n22, 100, 102, 192; acknowledgment/recognition/ worship of 34, 73n22, 73n24, 111 – 13, 119, 149, 173 – 4 (see also Jethro; Naaman; Rahab); agents/ instruments of 52, 161, 170 – 1 (see also Aram/Aramaeans; Assyria/ Assyrians; Samson); covenants and (see covenants and treaties); demonic and unpredictable aspects 109, 113, 115, 129; loyalty of/

Index  215 to 51, 68, 142, 145; reputation of 119, 143, 167, 192; role of 16, 53, 91, 109, 141; as a warrior God 68, 75n49, 175 – 7 Zakovitch, Yair 47 the zar (Israelite out of place) 7

Zevit, Ziony 167 – 8 Ziklag (town) 123 Ziph (village) 121 Zipporah 11; disapproval of 39 – 40; role of 31, 43n18; saving of Moses 11; separation from Moses 33, 36, 194; see also Moses: wife