Studies in the Syriac Magical Traditions 900446719X, 9789004467194

Citation preview

Studies in the Syriac Magical Traditions

Magical and Religious Literature of Late Antiquity Series Editors Shaul Shaked Siam Bhayro

volume 9

The titles published in this series are listed at brill.com/mrla

Studies in the Syriac Magical Traditions Edited by

Marco Moriggi Siam Bhayro

leiden | boston

Cover illustration: The John Rylands Library, University of Manchester, Ms.Syr.52 folio 32v. Photograph copyright the University of Manchester. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Moriggi, Marco, editor. | Bhayro, Siam, editor. Title: Studies in the Syriac magical traditions / edited by Marco Moriggi, Siam Bhayro. Description: Leiden ; Boston : Brill, 2021. | Series: Magical and religious literature of late antiquity, 2211-016X ; volume 9 | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: lccn 2021037995 (print) | lccn 2021037996 (ebook) | isbn 9789004467194 (hardback) | isbn 9789004467200 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Magic–Syria. Classification: lcc bf1622.s95 s78 2021 (print) | lcc bf1622.s95 (ebook) | ddc 133.4/3089923–dc23 lc record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021037995 lc ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021037996

Typeface for the Latin, Greek, and Cyrillic scripts: “Brill”. See and download: brill.com/brill‑typeface. issn 2211-016X isbn 978-90-04-46719-4 (hardback) isbn 978-90-04-46720-0 (e-book) Copyright 2022 by Marco Moriggi and Siam Bhayro. Published by Koninklijke Brill nv, Leiden, The Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill nv incorporates the imprints Brill, Brill Nijhoff, Brill Hotei, Brill Schöningh, Brill Fink, Brill mentis, Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, Böhlau Verlag and V&R Unipress. Koninklijke Brill nv reserves the right to protect this publication against unauthorized use. Requests for re-use and/or translations must be addressed to Koninklijke Brill nv via brill.com or copyright.com. This book is printed on acid-free paper and produced in a sustainable manner.

Contents Preface vii List of Figures viii Notes on Contributors

ix

1 Syriac Studies and Magic: An Introduction Marco Moriggi and Siam Bhayro

1

2 Syriac Magic: An Overview of Previous Approaches and Prospects for the Future 13 Abigail Pearson 3 Syriac Magic and Medicine: A Near-Eastern Paradigm of Priestcraft Siam Bhayro

31

4 Syriac Incantation Bowls and the Mesopotamian Context: A Glimpse into Christian-Jewish Cultural Interactions 57 Marco Moriggi 5 More on the ‘Book of Protection’ and the Syriac ‘Charms’: New Texts and Perspectives for the Study of Magic and Religion 77 Michael Zellmann-Rohrer 6 Traces of a Storied Universe: Biblical Figures and Motifs in Late-Antique Syriac Amulets 141 Nils H. Korsvoll 7 Soundings in the Textual History of Syriac Amulets David Calabro

169

8 Syriac Magic and the Contemporary Christian Milieu: Continuity or Discontinuity? 182 Gaby Abousamra 9 A Mandaean Lamella and Its Parallels: bm 132957+bm 132947+bm 132954 202 Matthew Morgenstern and Ohad Abudraham Index of Texts 241 Index of Subjects 248

Preface This book contains the select proceedings of a panel that never happened. Originally conceived by Marco Moriggi, we convened the panel Syriaca Magica as part of the xiii Symposium Syriacum, which was to be held in Paris in the July of 2020. Because of the global covid pandemic, and the accompanying uncertainty, we decided to press ahead with plans to publish the papers ahead of any future meeting. Still, we are grateful to the Société d’ études syriaques for its assistance, and in particular to Françoise Briquel Chatonnet, Alain Desreumaux, Muriel Debié, Margherita Farina, and Flavia Ruani. We are also grateful to James Nathan Ford for his assistance, particularly with the preparation of the chapter by Gaby Abousamra, and to the staff at the publisher, E.J. Brill, for their patience and professionalism, particularly Katelyn Chin and Erika Mandarino. We would also like to express our thanks for the research funds received by Moriggi, which were provided by the 2020/21 piaceri research support program at the Università di Catania—Dipartimento di Scienze Umanistiche (s.wart Project, director Professor Dr Stefano Rapisarda). Finally, we thank our loved ones for their continued support: Marco thanks his wife, Maria Teresa, and his daughter, Lea, for the hectic and vibrant life they share together, and Siam thanks his wife, Anne, for her grammatical exactitude and inexplicable love. Marco Moriggi and Siam Bhayro Milan and Exeter, June 2021

Figures 6.1

6.2 6.3

6.4 9.1

Incantation bowls in situ at the 1888–1889 excavations at Nippur (Photograph: H.V. Hilprecht, Explorations in Bible Lands during the 19th Century (Philadelphia, 1903), p. 448) 145 cbs 9012 (Photograph: Courtesy of the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology, image no. 228557) 152 ao 207964-O, Catalogue no: A207964 (Photograph: Courtesy of the Department of Anthropology, Smithsonian Institution Photographer: Donald. E. Hurlbert) 157 BnF Syr 400/1 (Photograph: Courtesy of the Bibliothèque nationale de France) 159 ušaqrat in bm 132168:30 (Photograph: Matthew Morgenstern, published with kind permission of the Trustees of the British Museum) 228

Notes on Contributors Gaby Abousamra (PhD 2002, École Pratique des Hautes Études, Sorbonne, Paris) is Professor of Epigraphy and Ancient Semitic Languages in the Department of Archaeology, Lebanese University (Beirut). His research interests include Phoenician, Aramaic, Hebrew, Syriac, and Arabic inscriptions. Ohad Abudraham (PhD 2017, Ben-Gurion University of the Negev) is a Postdoctoral Fellow in Hebrew and Semitic Languages at Tel Aviv University. His research interests include Aramaic dialectology, Hebrew and Aramaic epigraphy, and Jewish magic. Siam Bhayro (PhD 2000, University College London) is Associate Professor in Early Jewish Studies at the University of Exeter. His research interests include the Bible, Semitic languages, medicine in the Christian and Islamic orient, and Jewish magic. David Calabro (PhD 2014, The University of Chicago) is Curator of Eastern Christian Manuscripts at the Hill Museum and Manuscript Library in Collegeville, Minnesota. His research focuses on the intersection of language and culture in the Near East, including topics such as nonverbal communication, sacred space, ritual, and magic. Nils H. Korsvoll (PhD 2017, mf Norwegian School of Theology) is Associate Professor in Religious Studies at the University of Agder (Kristiansand, Norway). His research interests include magic and ritual practice in Late Antiquity, material culture, provenance and critical theory, popular religion, and religious education. He teaches broadly within religious studies and religious education, and is a member of the Young Academy of Norway. Matthew Morgenstern (PhD 2002, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem) is Professor in Hebrew and Semitic Languages at Tel Aviv University. His research interests include the grammar and lexicography of Eastern Aramaic, and the Hebrew and Aramaic of the Dead Sea Scrolls.

x

notes on contributors

Marco Moriggi (PhD 2003, Università di Firenze) is Associate Professor in Semitic Philology at the Università di Catania, Honorary Senior Research Fellow at the University of Exeter, and Honorary Research Fellow at Birkbeck, University of London. His research interests include Syriac incantation bowls, Syriac language, Aramaic epigraphy in late antique Mesopotamia and the Gulf, and Aramaic dialectology. His latest title with Brill (together with Ilaria Bucci) is Aramaic Graffiti from Hatra: A Study based on the Archive of the Missione Archeologica Italiana (2019). Abigail Pearson (PhD 2021, University of Exeter) researches the transmission of technical lore from Antiquity to the Middle Ages. Her doctoral thesis examined the extent to which we can trace a continuous Syriac magic tradition from Late Antiquity to the present day, exploring the circumstances that encouraged or necessitated innovations to Syriac magic texts and practices over time. She is also interested in the application of Digital Humanities technologies to Syriac studies, and has helped to develop handwritten text recognition models that can automatically transcribe Syriac manuscripts. Michael Zellmann-Rohrer (PhD 2016, University of California, Berkeley) is a researcher in the Institut für Wissensgeschichte des Altertums at the Freie Universität, Berlin. He is a member of the project zodiac on the history of zodiacal astrology, an editor of the Lexicon of Greek Personal Names, and an associate editor of the Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum, with further research interests in papyrology, late antique and Byzantine studies, and the history of religion and magic in the ancient and medieval Mediterranean.

chapter 1

Syriac Studies and Magic: An Introduction Marco Moriggi and Siam Bhayro

1

Introduction

Those familiar with the geological feature fluviokarst will know that ‘the pattern of surface stream channels and stream valleys is still in evidence, though much of the drainage may be underground’. Furthermore, ‘as the valley cuts deeper and deeper into the carbonate rocks, the stream that flows through it loses water into the limestone through joints and fractures, which begin to enlarge into cave systems’.1 This feature presents us with an apt metaphor for how Syriac studies has treated magic, whose effects are manifest while the cause is very much underground.2

2

Magic in Syriac Studies

As it happens, Syriac magic has been studied since the emergence of Syriac studies, albeit usually in a negative manner, or, at best, in a way that contextualises it within the framework of late-antique and early-modern ‘iathromagic’ practices.3 Beyond this, magic in Syriac studies has been largely ignored, if not directly censored, with what would be considered mainstream Syriac scholarship consigning the subject to the margins. The following three examples, drawn from recent scholarship, demonstrate this well, but more examples could be adduced. The recently-published volume dedicated to The Syriac World contains no chapter specifically devoted to magic texts and practices in Syriac culture.4 Despite this omission, magic seeps through the cracks, appearing briefly in five other chapters: – Bar-Asher Siegal’s chapter on ‘Judaism and Syriac Christianity’ (pp. 146–156) refers to the ‘interconfessional milieu’ and ‘shared magical tradition’ of the magic bowl texts (pp. 149–150). 1 2 3 4

See https://www.britannica.com/science/fluviokarst (last visit 25.01.2021). The term ‘magic’ and its use in this volume is discussed below. See the contributions by Pearson and Bhayro in this volume. D. King (ed.), The Syriac World (London, 2019).

© Marco Moriggi and Siam Bhayro, 2022 | doi:10

2

moriggi and bhayro

– Kessel’s chapter on ‘Syriac Medicine’ (pp. 438–459) discusses magic in the context of ‘folk-medicine’ (p. 445), especially in relation to the Syriac Book of Medicines (p. 448). – Gzella’s chapter on ‘The Syriac Language in the Context of the Semitic Languages’ (pp. 204–221) refers briefly to the ‘sub-literary register’ of the Syriac magic bowls (p. 217). – Briquel-Chatonnet’s chapter on ‘Writing Syriac: manuscripts and inscriptions’ (pp. 243–265) refers to magic bowls and scrolls as typologies of written evidence in Syriac written documents (pp. 248, 251). – Herman’s chapter on ‘The Syriac World in the Persian Empire’ (pp. 134–145) refers to how Syriac magic texts give evidence for religious syncretism in the Sasanian period (p. 141). For such a bulky volume, which contains 896 pages in the printed edition, this handful of references seems frankly rather poor, and strongly suggests that the communis opinio is still the patently negative one expressed by Badger (and his contemporaries and successors) more than one hundred and fifty years ago.5 Similarly, the Gorgias Encyclopedic Dictionary of the Syriac Heritage does not feature any entries concerning ‘magic’, ‘incantation’, ‘amulet’, and the like.6 And, again similarly, such themes seep into the treatment of other topics, for example into Van Rompay’s entry on ‘Inscriptions’ (pp. 208–211) and Butts’s entry on ‘Syriac Language’ (pp. 390–391). This provides yet another confirmation that Syriac magic is often not taken seriously as a subject in its own right, but is used when convenient in support of other subjects that are considered to be more important or orthodox. This is especially the case with one particular topic in Syriac studies, namely the relationship between Syriac Christians and Jews, as is demonstrated by the volume that was recently edited by Butts and Gross.7 The chapter by Belinitzky and Paz, ‘Bound and Banned: Aphrahat and Excommunication in the Sasanian Empire’ (pp. 67–88), uses the evidence provided by the Syriac and Jewish Aramaic magic bowls in a comparative analysis of Aphrahat’s Demonstrations and the Babylonian Talmud, concluding that ‘Aphrahat, in turn, could be better understood and illuminated on the backdrop of the function of the ban in the Babylonian Talmud and the incantation bowls’ (p. 87). Earlier, the authors note

5 See the contribution by Pearson in this volume for further details. 6 S.P. Brock, A.M. Butts, G.A. Kiraz and L. Van Rompay (eds), Gorgias Encyclopedic Dictionary of the Syriac Heritage (Piscataway, 2011). 7 A.M. Butts, S. Gross (eds), Jews and Syriac Christians: Intersections across the First Millennium (Tübingen, 2020).

syriac studies and magic: an introduction

3

that ‘the lexical juxtaposition of banning and binding points to proximity of the incantation formulae and the apparent legal ban presented by Aphrahat and the rabbis, once again highlighting the porousness of the artificial boundary between magic and law’ (p. 79). It is thus not surprising that in the ‘Introduction’ (pp. 1–26), in which the editors discuss how ‘Syriac studies has much to offer for the contextualization of Babylonian Judaism’, one finds ‘magic’ among the genres of Syriac texts (pp. 5–6). Having said that, it is clear that it is Syriac literature (vis-à-vis Babylonian Jewish Literature), as opposed to Syriac texts in general, that remains the main focus of these essays. The only other place where ‘sorcerers and blasphemers’ are quoted is in Rubenstein’s chapter on ‘Syriac Christian Sources and the Babylonian Talmud’ (pp. 255–279; see pp. 274–275). It would seem, therefore, that ‘Syriac literature’ is still conceived as a narrow space where only ‘literary’, that is ‘orthodox’, ‘canonical’ texts are included. The persistence of this kind of approach to magic sources in Syriac studies is probably best explained by two factors. First, Syriac literature was transmitted mainly in ecclesiastical contexts (scriptoria, schools, etc.), with the result that this transmission was subject to specific ideologies that governed its choices of texts, traditions, reading practices, and even single textual variants. Second, despite the early (albeit dismissive) interest in Syriac magic texts by scholars in Syriac studies, it is clear that, in terms of esteem and thus priority, it was religious literature (especially of Greek origin) that was most valued, especially in comparison with amulets and other ‘superstitious’ practices. Be that as it may, after more than one hundred and fifty years, it is high time for this historic prejudice to be explicitly rejected, and for a new discourse to be firmly established in Syriac studies. Following the suggestion of Lucas Van Rompay, it is surely now time to consider ‘the Syriac bowls [and magic texts] as a part of Syriac literature, especially because of their importance as a source for the study of the Syriac language’.8

3

Syriac Magic in the Study of Magic

While the treatment of magic in Syriac studies has left a lot to be desired, it is also true that the treatment of Syriac sources and traditions in the study of magic in general has been far from ideal. Unlike the former situation, however,

8 L. Van Rompay, ‘Some remarks on the language of Syriac incantation texts’, in R. Lavenant (ed.), v Symposium Syriacum 1988 (Rome, 1990), pp. 369–381 (381).

4

moriggi and bhayro

this is less to do with historic prejudice and more to do with the state of the field. After all, scholars who are not specialists in Syriac studies can hardly be expected to integrate Syriac sources into their research if those sources are themselves neglected by specialists. General studies of magic cannot be blamed if they simply reflect the state of the more specific field. A recent example of this is the excellent volume edited by Frankfurter, in which he states ‘Gaps in coverage will be inevitable—the neglect of Arabic, Syriac, and Ethiopic sources being most glaring’.9

4

Magic in This Volume: Methodology, Approach, Perspectives

Magic as a topic within religious studies, anthropology, and the humanities in general is not the subject of this book. Instead, it is our aim to introduce a new perspective in Syriac studies, highlighting the significance of the subfield of Syriac magic both within and without Syriac studies. To extend the fluviokarst metaphor, the study of Syriac magic has accompanied and supported the mainstream flow of Syriac studies; nevertheless, many caves remain to be explored. It is our hope that this book will demonstrate the value of such explorations, and prompt further research. As editors, we were happy for those contributing to this volume to use the term ‘magic’ without engaging with questions of definition, unless they wanted to clarify their own peculiar attitude towards this term.10 Even though we did not ask our authors to take or to express a position on this, we nevertheless want to draw some lines of demarcation within which we may set our heuristic approach to the study of Syriac magic. First of all, we share both of the following observations by Sanzo, first that the ‘conclusion to abstain from using the term magic in scholarship is ultimately unhelpful’, and, second, that ‘magic should in fact be kept as one of our heuristic categories in the study of antiquity’.11

9 10

11

D. Frankfurter, ‘Preface’, in Idem (ed.), Guide to the Study of Ancient Magic (Leiden, 2019), pp. xi–xii (xii). Scholarly interest in magic has increased in the last few decades; in this regard, it is instructive to see the first three footnotes in L.M. Bortolani, S. Nagel, ‘Introduction’, in Eaedem, W.D. Furley, J.F. Quack (eds), Cultural Plurality in Ancient Magical Texts and Practices: Graeco-Egyptian Handbooks and Related Traditions (Tübingen, 2019), pp. 1–23 (1). As this may be addressed from various topical, cultural, geographical and temporal perspectives, it is clear that the recent increase in scholarly interest will only accelerate. J. Sanzo, ‘Deconstructing the deconstructionists: a response to recent criticisms of the rubric “Ancient Magic” ’, in Idem, A. Mastrocinque, M. Scapini (eds), Ancient Magic: Then

syriac studies and magic: an introduction

5

In this sense, the recent words of Frankfurter may be considered a watershed (even for Syriac magic): … ‘magic’ or ‘magical’ can serve as a quality of certain practices and materials that highlights for our scholarly scrutiny features of materiality, potency, or verbal or ritual performance we might not otherwise appreciate as part of a culture’s religious world, or aspects of the social location of ritual practices we might not otherwise appreciate. ‘Magic’— the category—becomes thus a heuristic tool rather than a second-order (etic) classification …12 Moreover, ‘magic’ or ‘magical’ are by no means meant to translate any of the indigenous Syriac terms related to this subject. As it happens, this is not just the case for the Syriac traditions, but also for the comparable traditions, whether ancient (e.g. Egyptian, Sumerian, Akkadian, etc.) or more recent (Jewish, Mandaic, etc.).13 Having clarified that, in Syriac studies as well as in other related fields, ‘magic’ may be a heuristic tool,14 we can now turn to discuss the main feature to which we apply this tool in order to better understand and contextualise Syriac magic as a cultural phenomenon of Late Antiquity and beyond, namely texts. There are hundreds of Syriac magic texts, most of which still need to be published, with many of the already published ones needing a fresh analysis. These texts are not just elements of a written dimension; they are ‘amulets (including gems) for healing and protection, figurines for ritual focus and gestures, inscribed bowls for protection from demons, and of course, ritual manuals’,15 in all their ‘lettered’ and/or ‘semi-lettered’ typologies,16 as well as in their materiality.17

12 13 14 15 16 17

and Now (Stuttgart, 2020), pp. 25–49 (28). See also the discussion of the advantages and disadvantages of the use of this category in C.I. Lehrich, ‘Magic in theoretical praxis’, in B.-C. Otto, M. Stausberg (eds), Defining Magic: A Reader (Sheffield, 2012), pp. 211–228; J. Sørensen, ‘Magic reconsidered: towards a scientifically valid concept of magic’, in Otto, Stausberg (eds), Defining Magic, pp. 229–242. D. Frankfurter, ‘Ancient Magic in a New Key: Refining an Exotic Discipline in the History of Religions’, in Idem (ed.), Guide, pp. 3–20 (13–14; emphasis by Frankfurter). D. Frankfurter, ‘Introduction’, in Idem (ed.), Guide, pp. 29–35 (29). This in fact will emerge in some of the contributions published in the present volume. D. Frankfurter, ‘The Plan of this Volume’, in Idem (ed.), Guide, pp. 21–26 (24). R. Kotansky, ‘Textual Amulets and Writing Traditions in the Ancient World’, in Frankfurter (ed.), Guide, pp. 507–554 (508–509). D. Frankfurter, ‘Magic and the Forces of Materiality’, in Idem (ed.), Guide, pp. 659–677 (660–661).

6

moriggi and bhayro

The texts and objects of Syriac magic are per se ‘documents of specific historical subcultures’,18 but, in their turn, they cannot be fully understood except in the framework of Syriac culture, the late-antique Mesopotamian milieu, and so on. These texts are evidence for Syriac magic as far as we are able to rightly understand what their authors intended for them. In spite of the fact they pertain to the domain of microhistory, they are properly understood in a wider context. We are thus attempting to establish an approach to research that, starting from single groups of texts and objects, interprets the texts through the lens of concepts like ‘relation’ (including ‘interrelation’), ‘plurality’, and ‘fusion’.19 Before we describe how these three terms should be understood, both in respect of the contributions in this book and beyond, we want to stress that, as regards ‘comparison’ and ‘syncretism’, two renowned, recurrent, leading categories in the study of magic, we think that, if we cannot move beyond the fundamental tool of comparison, we should use it in the manner proposed by Sanzo (deriving his approach from Bonnell), i.e. distinguishing each time ‘between the analytical use of comparison (i.e. oriented around similar kinds of individuals/groups at a particular period of time) and the illustrative use of comparison (i.e. attempting to illuminate a broader idea, concept, or model that transcends specific groups or a particular time period)’.20 This approach may avoid one of the most dangerous tendencies in comparative studies, namely ‘parallelomania’.21 As for ‘syncretism’, even though we did not veto its use by the contributors to this volume, our preference is for ‘plurality’ in the sense that we explain it below.22 The first element we want to address is that magic may be understood in terms of ‘relationship’, i.e. as a process, a factual sequence of actions for which we find only sparse hints or references in the texts we study. A significant portion of Syriac magic has thus been lost, despite the potential for the evidence

18 19

20 21

22

Frankfurter, ‘Ancient Magic in a New Key’, in Idem (ed.), Guide, p. 9. The first concept comes from Veltri’s approach to ancient Jewish magic; see the contribution by Moriggi in this volume. For the other two, we are indebted to Bortolani, Nagel, ‘Introduction’, in Eaedem, Furley, Quack (eds), Cultural Plurality, p. 3. Sanzo, ‘Deconstructing’, p. 31. See S. Sandmel, ‘Parallelomania’, Journal of Biblical Literature 81 (1962), pp. 1–13; B. Barnes, Contextualising Syriac Anathema: Bridging the Gap between Suggestions of Comparison in Late Antique and Nineteenth Century Christian Ritual Practice [University of Southampton, Faculty of Humanities, Thesis for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy (2016), unpublished], pp. 5–6. For a discussion of the term ‘syncretism’, with its possible—negative—nuances in a broader anthropological perspective, see Frankfurter, ‘Ancient Magic in a New Key’, in Idem (ed.), Guide, p. 19 (n. 46).

syriac studies and magic: an introduction

7

of modern and contemporary magical practices of the near eastern Christian communities (often Neo-Aramaic-speaking and writing) to help us to reconstruct plausible scenarios.23 Thus Veltri wrote: … magic clearly does not possess an existence of its own. Rather, it relies on those relationships that obtain among the performers and actors of magical practices. Thus it emerges in an interstitial space where the magician is the protagonist: the magic circle, the magician’s sole preserve. The ‘work’ of a magician always presupposes the existence of a real or imaginary audience without which the magical act cannot take place. Magic is that in-between space—an interstitial component of political and social pertinence …24 Furthermore, looking at the texts presented, discussed, and referred to in this book, we are faced with what Veltri describes as follows: … the nature of magic is to be found in the process which leads from the hidden to the ‘unhidden’ and vice-versa. It is neither the origin nor the goal that are magical, but rather the way (or path) leading from one to the other. It is characteristic of magic that elements from one culture pass into the other, without the receiver being able or willing to understand the transmitted contents …25 Magic, therefore, whether ancient, late-antique, medieval, or modern, is an empirical matter. Obviously, texts do not always depict reality. Instead, they often present what their authors intend to obtain from them, thus partly or totally overshadowing the relationships involving practitioners, clients, and society in general. Fortunately, texts often speak by themselves, as long as we use a sound philological approach to let them speak for themselves.26 Emending an ancient text according to a presumed ‘standard grammar’ is always wrong, and is a patent 23 24

25 26

See the contributions by Calabro and Abousamra in this volume. G. Veltri, ‘Steinschneider’s interstitial explanation of magic’, in R. Leicht, G. Freudenthal (eds), Studies on Steinschneider: Moritz Steinschneider and the Emergence of the Science of Judaism in Nineteenth-Century Germany (Leiden, 2011), pp. 233–246 (233). Veltri, ‘Steinschneider’s interstitial explanation’, in Leicht, Freudenthal (eds), Studies on Steinschneider, p. 245. See, for example, the remarks of M. Morgenstern, ‘On some non-standard spellings in the Aramaic Magic Bowls and their linguistic significance’, Journal of Semitic Studies 52 (2007), pp. 245–277 (277).

8

moriggi and bhayro

mistake for magic texts (including Syriac ones). Indeed, it is doubtful whether any ‘standard grammar’ of an ancient Restsprache, or indeed a literary language attested across two millennia such as Syriac, can be assumed. Linguistic choices in the broader sense are due to both internal factors, which relate to the demands of the language itself, and, largely, external cultural factors, which— as demonstrated in various articles and works over the last decades—are not always easy to discern. The picture of Syriac magic texts that emerges thus reflects relationships among cultures, i.e. among living men and women rather than simply texts and objects. To use another geological metaphor, it is like sediment that accumulates from multiple materials over a prolonged period. It is best not to speak of this in terms of ‘melting pots’, ‘crucibles’, and the like, where the resulting indefinite colour hides all the preceding colours and nuances. We think that our texts better resemble a petrographic thin section, where colours alternate, intersect, are present at the same time but in different places, maybe according to tonality or with colours confronting each other in a striking way. As with the case of petrographic sediments with telluric forces, all the cultural motifs were gathered in that very context and compacted tightly by the pressure of textual and pragmatic needs. We thus think that the resulting presence of elements of different cultural origins … can thus be described as ‘plurality’, while instances in which these elements overlap to such an extent that it is almost impossible to disentangle them can be described as examples of ‘fusion’. In detail, cultural plurality and fusion can manifest themselves in a range of different dynamics: from phenomena such as simple borrowing, through advanced adaptation, up to complete assimilation or even distortion of origin and meaning …27

5

The Contents of This Volume

The contributions to this volume, therefore, have been assembled with the aim of offering a critical assessment of where we are as a field, and to demonstrate the potential, indeed the necessity, for the field to be taken forward in a methodologically sound manner. Accordingly, the first contribution by Abigail Pearson analyses how Syriac magic practices were first brought to the attention of the academic world nearly one-hundred and seventy years ago, at a time

27

Bortolani, Nagel, ‘Introduction’, in Eaedem, Furley, Quack (eds), Cultural Plurality, p. 3.

syriac studies and magic: an introduction

9

when magic was often treated with suspicion or dismissed as having little scholarly value. Pearson demonstrates how the negative effects of these attitudes have proved difficult to dismantle and, consequently, how the study of Syriac magic is still in its early stages as progress has often been slow and sporadic. She begins with publications that date from 1852 to 1945, and examines the myriad of social, intellectual, and cultural influences which caused magic texts to be ignored. She then considers publications from 1946 to 2019, outlining how changes in the way magic was perceived led to greater recognition of the contributions this material could make to our understanding of social and religious history, and assessing both their positive contributions as well as some shortcomings. She ends by outlining some desiderata, stressing in particular the importance of a sustained approach to the publication of more primary source material. Following this, Siam Bhayro discusses how, for every period for which we have evidence, we can see Syriac Christian priests preserving, studying, and practising both the magical and medical arts. The nature of the evidence changes from period to period, with the modern period providing both manuscript evidence and eye-witness testimony, the medieval period furnishing manuscript evidence, and the late-antique period giving more indirect evidence. Taking a diachronic approach, however, means that the more recent evidence shines a light on the earlier, less illuminated periods. This, in turn, permits a consistent picture of Syriac Christian priestcraft to emerge from the modern, medieval, and late-antique periods, suggesting a remarkable degree of continuity in terms of magical-medical therapeutic knowledge and practice. This revolves around two manuscript types—the magical ‘Book of Protection’ and the magical-medical ‘Book of Medicines’—which probably first appeared during the so-called ‘Syriac Renaissance’ (eleventh–thirteenth centuries ce) as learned and practical handbooks for use by priests. In the next chapter, Marco Moriggi discusses how the testimony of the incantation bowls springs directly from the realm of micro-history and may thus shed more light than the canonical texts on the real, day-to-day, interactions between cultural groups. It is possible, when one analyses the Syriac incantation bowls more closely and for more than simply the presence of Jewish elements, to discuss the interaction between Syriac Christianity and Judaism in Sasanian Babylonia from a new perspective. This new approach may, on the one hand, yield new data for the study of Jewish-Christian relations, and, on the other, foster the creation of a methodology based on linguistic variation in texts that are parallel but that come from different cultural traditions. The next chapter, by Michael Zellmann-Rohrer, considers new contributions to the history of Syriac magic from an editorial project on the so-called ‘Book

10

moriggi and bhayro

of Protection’ or ‘Book of Charms’ and related texts. Zellmann-Rohrer shows in impressive detail how these compendious ritual handbooks, extracts of which are dispersed in miscellanies, and the finished amulets that were produced from such handbooks, are more numerous and widely distributed than previously thought (based in particular on the important but limited publication by H. Gollancz), both diachronically and geographically throughout greater Mesopotamia and beyond. He presents excellent examples of how our understanding of these texts, whether published or unpublished, can be advanced, how they are a rich source for the daily life and thought of the Christian communities that they served, and how the textual motifs can also be contextualised in terms of broader ritual traditions in Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages. In his contribution, Nils Korsvoll addresses the comparative paucity of biblical references in the Syriac magic bowls and amulets from Late Antiquity, a phenomenon that has been considered notable and significant. Korsvoll brings recent developments in biblical studies and the study of magic to bear on this question, particularly in regard to the problem of the relevance and usefulness of definitive or teleological categories like biblical. He revisits the biblical references and invocations that are present in the Syriac amulets and bowls in light of such developments, drawing especially on David Frankfurter’s proposal of an authoritative discourse of precedent, and thus proposes that they do not refer to the Bible or necessarily to a biblical story, but rather to narratives or figures in a wider storied universe. This is followed by David Calabro’s contribution, which describes the complex relationships between the different versions of Syriac charms produced within East Syriac communities in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Some charms, such as the Anathema of Mar ʿAbdishoʿ, show a wide degree of variation, while others, such as the prayers that introduce the book, are relatively stable. Calabro presents a classification of the charms based on a comparison of three sections of the book: the introductory prayers, the Anathema of the Gospel, and the anti-weapon charms, concluding that the evidence suggests that the charms were spontaneous productions sharing a basic structure; the most textually stable charms are those which are shortest, those which are based on biblical quotations, and those which are produced by the same scribe. In his contribution, Gaby Abousamra presents a catalogue of Christian features of the late antique Syriac magic texts, before moving on to list the parallel features in the modern Syriac magic texts. This enables him to argue for a degree of continuity from the ancient to the modern. The final contribution is by Matthew Morgenstern and Ohad Abudraham. Moving away from Syriac sources, this chapter presents the first full edition

syriac studies and magic: an introduction

11

of an important Mandaic magic text, preserved on three lamellae, with reference to parallels preserved in several Mandaic magic bowls. The importance of publishing texts with reference to as many parallels as possible is clearly demonstrated, something which should be adopted into the treatment of Syriac magic texts. Furthermore, coming from the same cultural environment as the late antique Syriac sources, the Mandaic sources shed much light on the nature of magic in Sasanian Mesopotamia, but without the overt Christian elements that appear in some of the contemporary Syriac sources.

Bibliography B. Barnes, Contextualising Syriac Anathema: Bridging the Gap between Suggestions of Comparison in Late Antique and Nineteenth Century Christian Ritual Practice [University of Southampton, Faculty of Humanities, Thesis for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy (2016), unpublished]. B. Belinitzky, Y. Paz, ‘Bound and Banned: Aphrahat and Excommunication in the Sasanian Empire’, in A.M. Butts, S. Gross (eds), Jews and Syriac Christians: Intersections across the First Millennium (Tübingen, 2020), pp. 67–88. L.M. Bortolani, S. Nagel, ‘Introduction’, in Eaedem, W.D. Furley, J.F. Quack (eds), Cultural Plurality in Ancient Magical Texts and Practices: Graeco-Egyptian Handbooks and Related Traditions (Tübingen, 2019), pp. 1–23. F. Briquel-Chatonnet, ‘Writing Syriac: manuscripts and inscriptions’, in D. King (ed.), The Syriac World (London, 2019), pp. 243–265. A.M. Butts, ‘Syriac Language’, in S.P. Brock, A.M. Butts, G.A. Kiraz, L. Van Rompay (eds), Gorgias Encyclopedic Dictionary of the Syriac Heritage (Piscataway, 2011), pp. 390– 391. A.M. Butts, S. Gross, ‘Introduction’, in A.M. Butts, S. Gross (eds), Jews and Syriac Christians: Intersections across the First Millennium (Tübingen, 2020), pp. 1–26. D. Frankfurter, ‘Ancient Magic in a New Key: Refining an Exotic Discipline in the History of Religions’, in D. Frankfurter (ed.), Guide to the Study of Ancient Magic (Leiden, 2019), pp. 3–20. D. Frankfurter, ‘The Plan of this Volume’, in D. Frankfurter (ed.), Guide to the Study of Ancient Magic (Leiden, 2019), pp. 21–26. D. Frankfurter, ‘Introduction’, in D. Frankfurter (ed.), Guide to the Study of Ancient Magic (Leiden, 2019), pp. 29–35. D. Frankfurter, ‘Magic and the Forces of Materiality’, in D. Frankfurter (ed.), Guide to the Study of Ancient Magic (Leiden, 2019), pp. 659–677. H. Gzella, ‘The Syriac Language in the Context of the Semitic Languages’, D. King (ed.), The Syriac World (London, 2019), pp. 204–221.

12

moriggi and bhayro

G. Herman, ‘The Syriac World in the Persian Empire’, in D. King (ed.), The Syriac World (London, 2019), pp. 134–145. G. Kessel, ‘Syriac Medicine’, in D. King (ed.), The Syriac World (London, 2019), pp. 438– 459. R. Kotansky, ‘Textual Amulets and Writing Traditions in the Ancient World’, in D. Frankfurter (ed.), Guide to the Study of Ancient Magic (Leiden, 2019), pp. 507–554. C.I. Lehrich, ‘Magic in theoretical praxis’, in B.-C. Otto, M. Stausberg (eds), Defining Magic: A Reader (Sheffield, 2012), pp. 211–228. M. Morgenstern, ‘On some non-standard spellings in the Aramaic Magic Bowls and their linguistic significance’, Journal of Semitic Studies 52 (2007), pp. 245–277. J.L. Rubenstein, ‘Syriac Christian Sources and the Babylonian Talmud’, in A.M. Butts, S. Gross (eds), Jews and Syriac Christians: Intersections across the First Millennium (Tübingen, 2020), pp. 255–279. S. Sandmel, ‘Parallelomania’, Journal of Biblical Literature 81 (1962), pp. 1–13. J. Sanzo, ‘Deconstructing the deconstructionists: a response to recent criticisms of the rubric “Ancient Magic”’, in Idem, A. Mastrocinque, M. Scapini (eds), Ancient Magic: Then and Now (Stuttgart, 2020), pp. 25–49. J. Sørensen, ‘Magic reconsidered: towards a scientifically valid concept of magic’, in B.C. Otto, M. Stausberg (eds), Defining Magic: A Reader (Sheffield, 2012), pp. 229–242. L. Van Rompay, ‘Inscriptions’, in S.P. Brock, A.M. Butts, G.A. Kiraz, L. Van Rompay (eds), Gorgias Encyclopedic Dictionary of the Syriac Heritage (Piscataway, 2011), pp. 208–211. L. Van Rompay, ‘Some remarks on the language of Syriac incantation texts’, in R. Lavenant (ed.), v Symposium Syriacum 1988 (Rome, 1990), pp. 369–381. G. Veltri, ‘Steinschneider’s interstitial explanation of magic’, in R. Leicht, G. Freudenthal (eds), Studies on Steinschneider: Moritz Steinschneider and the Emergence of the Science of Judaism in Nineteenth-Century Germany (Leiden, 2011), pp. 233–246.

chapter 2

Syriac Magic: An Overview of Previous Approaches and Prospects for the Future Abigail Pearson

1

Introduction

Syriac magic practices were first brought to the attention of the academic world nearly one hundred and seventy years ago, at a time when magic was often treated with suspicion or dismissed as having little scholarly value. The negative effects of these attitudes have proved difficult to dismantle and, consequently, the field is still in its early stages as progress has often been slow and sporadic. In this chapter, I review the previous literature published on Syriac magic, then outline the future prospects of the field. First, I discuss publications from 1852 to 1945, examining the myriad of social, intellectual, and cultural influences which caused magic texts to be ignored. Then, I consider publications from 1946 to 2019, outlining how changes in the way magic was perceived led to greater recognition of the contributions this material can make to our understanding of social and religious history. I discuss the key studies on Syriac magic published in this period, highlighting their positive contributions as well as some shortcomings. Finally, I outline desiderata, stressing in particular the importance of a sustained approach to the publication of more primary source material.1

2

1852–1945

In 1842, the Archbishop of Canterbury appointed G.P. Badger, a missionary and scholar, as the Church of England’s delegate to the Church of the East.2 As part of this role, Badger spent three years (1842–1844 and 1850) travelling in the Middle East—primarily in Iraq—where he learned much about the beliefs 1 For further discussion of desiderata and a list of published and unpublished Syriac amulets and magic manuscripts related to the Book of Protection, see the contribution by Michael Zellmann-Rohrer in this volume. 2 S. Lee (ed.), The Dictionary of National Biography (London, 1901), p. 94.

© Abigail Pearson, 2022 | doi:10.1163/97890044672

14

pearson

and practices of its Syriac Christian communities.3 In his 1852 publication The Nestorians and their Rituals, Badger reported on the use of amulets amongst Syriac Christians: As might be expected in a people among whom education has been neglected for so many ages, and who cannot consequently be supposed to possess any deep or adequate sense of the high and holy truths which they profess, the Nestorians entertain many superstitions respecting the powers of evil, and the value of certain talismans to allay or counteract them. Thus they have charms against the evil eye, the poison of reptiles and plants, the rot and other diseases in sheep, the tyranny of rulers and the designs of wicked men, &c, most of which adverse influences are believed to be destroyed by certain passages of Holy Writ which are profanely used to this end […] I regret to state that the clergy are generally the authors of these absurd and profane effusions.4 Badger reported useful information about the creation and use of magical amulets: that they are written by clergy and sold to villagers, and that they are usually copied from a handbook.5 He also provided translations of four texts from one such handbook in his possession.6 Aside from these contributions, however, it is impossible to ignore the strikingly dismissive tone of Badger’s report. Badger believed that employing Biblical texts in amulets is blasphemous and deemed the practices ‘superstition’. Badger also emphasised that, in his view, there is a clear and obvious distinction to be drawn between the ‘high and holy truths’ of religion and the ‘absurd and profane’ practice of magic. Furthermore, Badger’s racist attitudes towards Syriac Christians are laid bare. His assertion that Syriac Christians are uneducated, and his suggestion that this has so long been the case that nothing more could be expected, are shocking to the modern reader. Worse still is that Badger was not alone in the field in holding these views. In De Philosophia Peripatetica Apud Syros Com-

3 Lee, Dictionary of National Biography, p. 94. 4 G.P. Badger, The Nestorians and their Rituals (2 vols; London, 1852), vol. 1, p. 238. The role played by the clergy in the transmission of magic is discussed by M. Moriggi, ‘“And the Impure and Abominable Priests Fled for Help to the Names of the Devils”: Amulets and Magical Practices in Syriac Christian Culture between Late Antiquity and the Modern World’, Hugoye 19.2 (2016), pp. 371–384. See also the contributions by Abousamra and Bhayro in this volume. 5 Badger, Nestorians, p. 240. 6 Badger, Nestorians, pp. 238–240.

syriac magic: an overview of previous approaches

15

mentationem Historicam (1852), E. Renan also gave an unsparing assessment of Syriac culture which was later adopted by W. Wright in his Introduction to Syriac Literature (1894).7 Paraphrasing Renan, Wright stated that: We must own—and it is well to make to confession at the outset—that the literature of Syria is, on the whole, not an attractive one. As Renan said long ago, the characteristic of the Syrians is a certain mediocrity. They shone neither in war, nor in the arts, nor in science.8 Renan and Wright both labelled Syriac people as mediocre and dismissed outright that their literature might contain any material of artistic or scientific interest, demonstrating that Syriac literature faced prejudice within its own field from a pervading racism at the outset. Badger’s evident racism and his desire to draw a sharp distinction between magic and religion echo the dismissive attitudes towards foreign cultures and their beliefs that is characteristic of much of nineteenth-century scholarship. Hyam and Smith have described the years 1815 to 1915, in which Badger and Wright both lived, as Britain’s ‘imperial century’ because it saw ‘dramatic extensions of British territory’.9 Colonial expansion meant Western nations were meeting a greater number of foreign cultures and in a much closer way than ever before. These new encounters prompted the emergence of anthropology, and inspired scholars to set about analysing, categorising, and comparing humans from across the globe. Inherent in these studies was a belief in the superiority of Westerners. As Hyam explains, a prevalent idea at the time was that all the nations of the world could be arranged in a hierarchical order based upon their level of advancement.10 Advancement was defined by a ‘British standard’, assumed to be ‘accurate and universally valid’, which placed Western European nations at the top of the ‘ladder of progress’ and indigenous peoples of Oceania and the Americas at the bottom.11 These views were espoused by the philosopher James Mill, the anthropologist Edward Tylor, and the biologist Charles Darwin, among others.12

7 8 9 10 11 12

E. Renan, De Philosophia Peripatetica apud Syros Commentationem Historicam (Paris, 1852), p. 3; W. Wright, An Introduction to Syriac Literature (London, 1894), pp. 1–2. Wright, Syriac Literature, pp. 1–2. R. Hyam, Britain’s Imperial Century 1815–1914: A Study of Empire and Expansion (Basingstoke, 2002); S. Smith, British Imperialism 1750–1970 (Cambridge, 1998), pp. 71–83. Hyam, Britain’s Imperial Century, p. 76. Hyam, Britain’s Imperial Century, p. 77. Hyam, Britain’s Imperial Century, p. 77.

16

pearson

Harari explains that these widespread ideas distorted how the practices and beliefs of the newly encountered peoples were perceived.13 When anthropologists first attempted to define magic and distinguish it from religion, they too adopted an evolutionary model. James Frazer, a social anthropologist who studied under Tylor, represented magic as a primitive stage in humankind’s beliefs about the supernatural, with religion being a later and more sophisticated development. In his influential study The Golden Bough, published in 1890, Frazer argued that ‘the conception of gods as supernatural beings entirely distinct from and superior to man […] has been slowly evolved in the course of history’.14 With ‘the first advance of knowledge’, Frazer argued, ‘prayer and sacrifice assume the leading place in religious ritual; and magic […] sinks to the level of a black art’.15 Implicit in this theory was the assumption that the West practices religion, whilst everyone else practices magic—ideas which inadvertently lent support to imperialism by implying that Britain’s colonial expansion would bring about advancement in the subjugated peoples.16 Alternative definitions of magic were proposed in the early twentieth century by a French school of sociologists who rejected the evolutionary distinction.17 Durkheim argued that practices could be defined as either religious or magical according to whether they are carried out by the community or the individual, respectively.18 Durkheim’s view is succinctly summarised in his assertion that ‘there is no “church of magic”’.19 Similarly, Mauss and Hubert argued that the distinction lay in how a practice was perceived in the society being studied.20 This perception, they argue, affects where and how a rite would be carried out, with ‘magical rites […] commonly performed in the woods, far away from dwelling places, at night or in shadowy corners, in the secret recesses of the house or at any rate in some out-of-the-way place’, whereas religious rites are ‘performed openly, in full public view’.21 Whilst this school of

13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

Y. Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah (Detroit, 2017), pp. 15–23. J. Frazer, The Golden Bough: A Study in Comparative Religion (London, 1890), pp. 31–32. Frazer, The Golden Bough, pp. 31–32. Harari, Jewish Magic, p. 16. For a detailed overview of the sociological approach to defining magic, see Harari, Jewish Magic, pp. 32–44. É. Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of Religious Life, translated by K.E. Fields (New York, 1995 [1912]). Durkheim, Religious Life, p. 42. H. Hubert and M. Mauss, ‘Esquisse d’ une théorie générale de la magie’, L’Année Sociologique (1902–1903), pp. 1–146. Hubert and Mauss, ‘Théorie générale de la magie’, pp. 18–19; Translation from M. Mauss, A General Theory of Magic (New York, 1972), p. 24.

syriac magic: an overview of previous approaches

17

thought moved away from the evolutionary idea, they perpetuated negative connotations surrounding magic by presenting it as individualistic, secretive, and peripheral. These narratives also pervaded the popular culture of the time, where foreign cultures were subject to further exoticisation and demonisation. As Stibbe explains, geographical expansion led to ‘cultural colonialism’ in which the traditions, arts, and rituals of different cultures were appropriated for entertainment purposes.22 Nowhere did this occur more evidently than in the world of entertainment magic, which surged in popularity during the Victorian era. Stibbe outlines how Victorian entertainment magic perpetuated imperialist ideals by amalgamating the traditions of foreign cultures with illusory tricks that could be debunked.23 Stage magicians dressed their performances in an array of props, words, and legends drawn from foreign cultures, which allowed the audience—aware of the illusory nature of the performance—to feel superior to those who believed in the appropriated rituals.24 Offstage, a more sinister association was fuelled. Advertisements regularly depicted common tropes of the East—such as veiled women, men wearing the fez, exotic animals, and Egyptian hieroglyphics—alongside frightening hellish characters like skeletons, demons, devils, and ghosts. In these ways, entertainment magic succeeded in merging together distinct elements of various non-Western cultures into one monolithic ‘other’ which was subsequently labelled magic and amalgamated with charlatanism and the diabolical. Due to these negative connotations, magic texts could at best be considered the superstitions of primitive nations, and at worst as attempts to harness malevolent powers. In such a climate, it is easy to understand why so few studies on Syriac magic texts were published—especially in comparison to studies on what were considered to be more conventional Christian texts. Over nine decades, only eight studies on Syriac amulet scrolls or magic handbooks were published, along with just six studies on Syriac incantation bowls. For the most part, these publications were of single texts which appeared sporadically. Individual Syriac bowls were published by Ellis (1853), Montgomery (1912 & 1917– 1918), Lidzbarski (1916), and Allotte de la Fuÿe (1924). Small selections of amulet texts were published by Hall (1892), Hazard (1893), Gollancz (1899), Nau (1907), and Macler (1908). Only two substantial publications of Syriac magic texts appeared. These were Montgomery’s Aramaic Incantation Texts from Nippur 22 23 24

A. Stibbe, ‘Abrakadabra, Alakazam: Colonialism and the Discourse of Entertainment Magic’, Surroundings: An Interdisciplinary Journal 88:3/4 (2005), pp. 413–425 (414). Stibbe, ‘Colonialism and the Discourse of Entertainment Magic’, pp. 413–425. Stibbe, ‘Colonialism and the Discourse of Entertainment Magic’, p. 414.

18

pearson

(1913), which included seven Syriac incantation bowls, and Gollancz’s The Book of Protection (1912), which contained transcriptions and translations of four Syriac amulet books. Colonial discourse also affected how Syriac magico-medical traditions were received and discussed. Two texts of this genre were edited and published in this period: Budge’s Book of Medicines (1913) and Gottheil’s Contributions to Syriac Folk-Medicine (1899).25 Budge’s Book of Medicines is a transcription and translation of a lengthy Syriac medical manuscript containing three distinct sections. The first consists of medical lectures on parts of the body, interspersed with traditional remedies. In a series of articles published between 1926 and 1946, Schleifer demonstrated that these medical lectures were based on the works of Galen.26 The second section contains astrological, mathematical, and divinatory materials such as calendrical knowledge, definitions of weights and measures, and hemerologies. The third section contains over one hundred traditional remedies for physical injury or disease. These are arranged according to the part of the body affected; beginning with those that affect the head and working downwards. Gottheil’s Syriac Folk-Medicine is a transcription and translation of a shorter version of section three, based on ms. Syriaque 325 from the Bibliothèque nationale de France. Budge prized what he believed to be of Greek origin in the Book of Medicines (and believed to be of Greek origin what he prized) whilst making disparaging remarks about the indigenous Syriac medical tradition. He praised the first section, writing that it ‘exhibits everywhere the touch of a master hand’.27 Moreover, he noted that the author speaks with respect of the ‘ancients’, and concludes that ‘the men to whom he refers under this appellation were not the priests who used spells and incantations […] but the great founders of Greek medicine […] who were the first to give medicine the status of a science’.28 In a stark contrast, Budge wrote that the second section was added to the work by ‘some student or scribe who could not free himself from the trammels of the beliefs of some of his contemporaries’, and, likewise, the third section ‘must have been written by “physicians” who were both ignorant and superstitious’.29 25

26

27 28 29

R.J.H. Gottheil, ‘Contributions to the History of Syriac Folk-Medicine’, Journal of the American Oriental Society 20 (1899), pp. 186–205; E.A.W. Budge, Syrian Anatomy, Pathology and Therapeutics or ‘The Book of Medicines’ (2 vols; London, 1913). For a complete list of these articles see S. Bhayro, ‘The Reception of Galen’s Art of Medicine in the Syriac Book of Medicines’, in B. Zipser (ed.), Medical Books in the Byzantine World (Bologna, 2013), pp. 123–144 (142). Budge, Book of Medicines, p. v. Budge, Book of Medicines, pp. x–xi. Budge, Book of Medicines, p. xi.

syriac magic: an overview of previous approaches

19

It is clear that Budge sought to separate Greek medicine from Syriac medicine by representing the former as rational and the latter as irrational. The Greek medical tradition has long been regarded in this positive light because it was thought to underpin the Western medical tradition.30 Thus, in the same way that foreign beliefs were depicted as magic to distinguish them from Western religion, medicine was divided into Western and non-Western. This also echoed and supported colonial ideals by presenting the Western colonisers as the bringers of true medicine to an uncivilised local populace. A similar sentiment was expressed by Gottheil. Though Gottheil was not as impressed by Greek medicine as Budge (‘where the names Hippocrates and Galen are still highly prized, such ignorance cannot excite wonder’), he still made it clear that his interest in ms. Syriaque 325 lay solely in its potential to provide evidence that the works of Galen were transmitted in Syriac.31 The privilege both Budge and Gottheil accorded to Classical culture is characteristic of Syriac studies at this time. To demonstrate its prevalence, we can again turn to a citation of Wright—whom Budge had studied under at the University of Cambridge.32 In his Introduction to Syriac Literature, Wright granted the Syriac writers one single positive attribute: They were apt enough as pupils of the Greeks; they assimilated and reproduced, adding little or nothing of their own […] Yet to the Syrians belongs the merit of having passed on the lore of ancient Greece to the Arabs, and therefore, as a matter of history, their literature must always possess a certain amount of interest in the eyes of the modern student.33 For Wright, the value of Syriac literature lay primarily in its role as a transmitter and preserver of Greek literature. With all this considered, it is clear that Syriac magic was introduced to the western academic world at an unfortunate time. Racism, imperialism, academic discourse, and popular culture all combined to devalue, amalgamate, and stigmatise non-Western belief systems. Yet, there are still positives to be drawn from the studies which were published. For instance, the negative per-

30 31 32

33

J. Scarborough and P.J. Van Der Eijk and A. Hanson and N. Siraisi (eds), Magic and Rationality in Ancient Near Eastern and Graeco-Roman Medicine (Leiden, 2004), pp. 3–4. Gottheil, ‘Syriac Folk-Medicine’, p. 186. S. Bhayro and S. Rudolf, ‘Budge’s Syriac Book of Medicines after One Hundred Years: Problems and Prospects’, in S.V. Panayatov and L. Vacín (eds), Mesopotamian Medicine and Magic: Studies in Honor of Markham J. Geller (Leiden, 2018), pp. 116–130 (119–120). Wright, Syriac Literature, p. 2.

20

pearson

ception of magic meant scholars of this period justified their interest in these texts by focusing on the contributions they could make to our knowledge of the Syriac language. As a result, these publications laid the foundation for subsequent research by highlighting philological, palaeographical, and orthographic points of interest. As with many disciplines, however, research began to slow with the onset of the First World War, and the threads begun in these early studies were not picked back up again until after the Second World War.

3

1946–2019

Since the mid-twentieth century, the category ‘magic’ has been subject to several reinterpretations. A growing awareness of the ethnocentrism at the heart of previous definitions led many scholars to question its validity as a category in academic discourse. For example, Wax and Wax condemned previous definitions as ‘wholly ethnocentric’, ‘inutile’, and ‘misleading’, and they argued that suggested dichotomies of magic and religion, such as manipulative/supplicative, ‘should be discarded from social scientific literature’.34 When Mauss’ Theory of Magic was republished in English translation in 1972, one reviewer noted that the ‘modern reader […] may reject the basic premise of the argument, that a distinct category of magical belief and action exists in society’.35 The prevailing response to the issues surrounding the word magic was to cease using it. This manifested in one of two ways: either magic was replaced with technical descriptors such as ‘rituals for gaining power’, or it was subsumed into its once opposing category to be considered as part of religion. The first option was particularly popular among Classics scholars. For instance, the word ‘magic’ is avoided in Gager’s Curse Tablets and Binding Spells from the Ancient World.36 The latter approach was adopted by many anthropologists, with several concluding that no distinction could be made between magic and religion in the societies they studied.37 Hammond, for instance,

34 35 36 37

R. Wax and M. Wax, ‘The Notion of Magic’, Current Anthropology 4:5 (Dec., 1963), pp. 495– 581 (495 and 502). W. James, ‘Reviewed Work: A General Theory of Magic by Marcel Mauss’, African Affairs 73:291 (Apr. 1974), pp. 234–235 (234). J.G. Gager (ed.), Curse Tablets and Binding Spells from the Ancient World (Oxford, 1992). Y. Harari, ‘What is a Magical Text?’, in Sh. Shaked (ed.), Officina Magica: Essays on the Practice of Magic in Antiquity (Leiden, 2005) pp. 91–124 (104).

syriac magic: an overview of previous approaches

21

argued that ‘magic is not an entity distinct from religion but a form of ritual behaviour and thus an element of religion’.38 On the whole, Semitists have been happier to retain ‘magic’ and have tended to opt out of the theoretical debates regarding its definition. Shaked emphasised that, although magic is difficult to define, it is not difficult to identify.39 In his study of ancient Jewish magic, Bohak argued that as long as we understand that ‘magic’ is our category—not that of the society being observed—and that it serves only as a heuristic device, then it can be a useful label.40 In Syriac studies specifically, many scholars including Moriggi, Müller-Kessler, and Bhayro, describe texts as ‘magic’ without addressing the definitional dilemma. These studies do, however, contribute to the (re)definition of ‘magic’ by using it as a neutral rather than a negative category. Whilst the debate on how to define magic is not settled, these dialogues have helped to change attitudes towards practices and beliefs labelled as such. As stated by Shaked, this has led to ‘a real revolution’ in the perception of magic and its importance for understanding the history of religion.41 Bhayro, writing specifically about incantation bowls—though his words apply to many kinds of magical text—described them as ‘perhaps the most important source we have for studying the everyday beliefs and practices of […] communities’.42 He emphasised that their content ‘is an uncensored witness to the clients’ anxieties, desires, and methods of seeking to influence the divine realm’.43 These changes in attitude have encouraged studies on magic in many guises and in many disciplines to increase, as has been the case for the study of Syriac magic. The Syriac incantation bowls from late antiquity have received the most attention in this period. Studies came slowly at first: only four studies on bowls were published in the first four decades following the Second World War— Teixidor (1962), Hamilton (1971), Harviainen (1978), and Gignoux (1984).44 Research picked up in earnest in the mid-1980s, beginning with Naveh and 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

D. Hammond, ‘Magic: A Problem in Semantics’, American Anthropologist 72:6 (Dec., 1970), pp. 1349–1356 (1355). Sh. Shaked, ‘ “Peace be Upon You, Exatled Angels”: on Hekhalot, Liturgy, and Incantation Bowls’, Jewish Studies Quarterly 2:3 (1995), pp. 197–219 (197). G. Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic: A History (Cambridge, 2008), pp. 61–62. Sh. Shaked and J.N. Ford and S. Bhayro (eds), Aramaic Bowl Spells: Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Magic Bowls (Leiden, 2013), pp. xv. S. Bhayro, ‘Magic as the Basis for Social Cohesion in pre-Islamic Mesopotamia’, Societas Magica Newsletter 25 (Spring, 2011), pp. 2–5 (4). Bhayro, ‘Magic as the Basis for Social Cohesion’, p. 4. J. Teixidor, ‘The Syriac Incantation Bowls in the Iraq Museum’, Sumer 18 (1962) pp. 51– 62; V.P. Hamilton, Syriac Incantation Bowls (Ann Arbor, 1971); T. Harviainen, A Syriac Incantation Bowl in the Finnish National Museum, Helsinki: A Specimen of Eastern Aramaic

22

pearson

Shaked’s influential work Amulets and Magic Bowls (1985).45 This work included two Syriac incantation bowls and generated interest in Semitic magic more generally. Since then, another twenty-eight Syriac incantation bowls have been edited and published, with key contributions from Geller (1986), Segal (2000), and Müller-Kessler (2005), to name only a few.46 In 2014, a significant contribution was made by Moriggi when he corrected, updated, and compiled forty-nine Syriac bowls that had previously been published into a single volume.47 The sustained effort towards the translation of Syriac incantation bowls has equipped scholars with the necessary source material to investigate an array of research questions. To give a few examples, studies on the Syriac incantation bowls have examined their linguistic and philological features (Moriggi: 2005 and 2012, van Rompay: 1990),48 identified Jewish formulae used in them (Moriggi: 2015 and Bolz: 2015),49 investigated their authorship (Juusola: 1999),50 and debated their widespread classification as Christian texts (Korsvoll: 2017).51 This period has also seen a rise in the number of studies published on Syriac amulets. The silence on this topic that followed Gollancz’s Book of Protection (1912) was broken in 1987, when Hunter published an article in which she

45 46

47 48

49

50 51

“Koiné” (Helsinki, 1978); P. Gignoux, ‘A New Incantation Bowl Inscribed in Syriac’, East and West 34 (1984), pp. 47–53. J. Naveh and Sh. Shaked, Amulets and Magic Bowls (Jerusalem, 1985). M.J. Geller, ‘Eight Incantation Bowls’, Orientalia Lovaniensia Periodica 17 (1986), pp. 101–117; J.B. Segal, Catalogue of the Aramaic and Mandaic Incantation Bowls in the British Museum (London, 2000); C. Müller-Kessler, Die Zauberschalentexte in der Hilprecht-Sammlung, Jena, und weitere Nippur-Texte anderer Sammlungen (Wiesbaden, 2005). M. Moriggi, A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls (Leiden, 2014). M. Moriggi, ‘Syriac Incantation Bowls and Linguistic Interference in Sasanian Babylonia’, in A. Mengozzi (ed.), Studi Afroasiatici: xi Incontro Italiano di Linguistica Camitosemitica / Afro-Asiatic Studies: 11th Italian Meeting of Afro-Asiatic Linguistics (Milan, 2005), pp. 313– 324 and ‘Between Late Aramaic and Neo-Aramaic: Reflections on some Phenomena in Aramaic of Late Antiquity’, aram 24 (2012), pp. 87–102; L. van Rompay, ‘Some Remarks on the Language of Syriac Incantation Texts’, in R. Lavenant (ed.), v Symposium Syriacum, 1988: Katholieke Universiteit, Leuven, 29–31 août 1988 (Rome, 1990), pp. 369–381. M. Moriggi, ‘Jewish Divorce Formulae in Syriac Incantation Bowls’, Aramaic Studies 13:1 (2015), pp. 82–94; S. Bolz, ‘A Jewish Adjuration Formula in Three Syriac Magic Bowls’, in M.E. Doerfler and E. Fiano and K.R. Smith (eds), Syriac Encounters: Papers from the Sixth North American Syriac Symposium, Duke University, 26–29 June 2011 (Leuven, 2015), pp. 455– 466. H. Juusola, ‘Who Wrote the Syriac Incantation Bowls?’, Studia Orientalia 85 (1999), pp. 75– 92. N.H. Korsvoll, Reconsidering ‘Christian’: Context and Categorisation in the Study of Syriac Amulets and Incantation Bowls (Ph.D. dissertation, Norwegian School of Theology, 2017).

syriac magic: an overview of previous approaches

23

analysed a selection of amulets with the aim of establishing their typical structure.52 Then, throughout the 1990s, Hunter was the sole contributor of articles on the Book of Protection and the amulet scrolls deriving from it. Her contributions include two general introductions to the use of amulets amongst Syriac Christians in the modern period (1995 and 2009),53 a study of the syntax used in the amulets and how these might help us categorise them into different genres (1990),54 translations of two amulet scrolls (1993 & 1999),55 a translation of an amulet to bind weapons (1992),56 and a comparison of amulets for safe travel taken from four different versions of Book of Protection (2015).57 Aside from Hunter, only two more articles on the Book of Protection have been added to the discussion, published by Balicka-Witakowska (2008) and Lyavdansky (2011).58 Syriac amulets from the late antique and medieval periods have also been published, though these are less common. Hunter (2013 and 2017) translated three fragmentary magic texts found in Turfan, which are thought to date to between the ninth and thirteenth centuries.59 The texts are all pas-

52 53

54

55

56 57

58

59

E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Saints in Syriac Anathemas: A Form Critical Analysis of Role’, Journal of Semitic Studies 32:1 (1987), pp. 83–104. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Amulets and the Assyrians of Kurdistan’, Journal of the Assyrian Academic Society 9:2 (1995), pp. 25–29; and ‘Magic and Medicine Amongst the Christians of Kurdistan’, in The Christian Heritage of Iraq: Collected Papers from the Christianity of Iraq i–v Seminar Days (Piscataway, 2009), pp. 187–202. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Genres of Syriac Amulets: a Study of Cambridge Ms. Syr. 3086’, in R. Lavenant (ed.), v Symposium Syriacum, 1988: Katholieke Universiteit, Leuven, 29–31 août 1988 (1990), pp. 355–368. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘A Scroll Amulet from Kurdistan’, aram 5 (1993), pp. 243–254 and ‘Another Scroll Amulet from Kurdistan’, in G.J. Reinink (ed.), After Bardaisan: Studies on Continuity and Change in Syriac Christianity in Honour of Prof. Han J.W. Drijvers (Leuven, 1999), pp. 161–172. E.C.D. Hunter, An Amulet for the Binding of Guns, Spears, Swords, Daggers and All Implements of War (Oxford, 1992). E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Two Codex Handbooks of Amulets: Mingana ms syr 316 and Rylands ms syr 52’, in S.H. Griffith and S. Grebenstein (eds), Christsein in der islamischen Welt: Festschrift für Martin Tamcke zum 60. Geburtstag, (Wiesbaden, 2015), pp. 423–437. E. Balicka-Witakowska, ‘Illustrating Charms: A Syriac Manuscript with Magic Drawings in the Collection of the British Library’, in G.A. Kiraz (ed.), Malphono w-Rabo d-Malphone: Studies in Honour of Sebastian P. Brock (Piscataway, 2008), pp. 779–790; A. Lyavdansky, ‘Syriac Charms in Near Eastern Context: Tracing the Origin of Formulas’, in Oral Charms in Structural and Comparative Light: Proceedings of the Conference of the International Society for Folk Narrative Research’s (isfnr) Committee on Charms, Charmers, and Charming 27–29th October 2011, Moscow (Moscow, 2011), pp. 15–21; for an updated list of published and unpublished manuscripts of the Book of Protection and related amulets, see the contribution by Zellmann-Rohrer in this volume. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Traversing Time and Location: A Prayer-Amulet of Mar Tamsis from Turfan’,

24

pearson

sages for protection or healing closely related to those we see in the Book of Protection. Takahashi (2017) identified and published two medieval Syriac magic texts belonging to the Ōtani Collection at Ryukoku University in Kyoto.60 Whilst their provenance was not recorded, Takahashi suggested that they were most likely found in Turfan and he proposed a date within the thirteenth century. Abousamra (2013) translated two magic texts which were found on mummies preserved at the Hadath Grotto in Lebanon.61 The texts date roughly to the thirteenth century.62 The first was found inside a child’s jacket and calls for fever and chills to be chased away, and the second was found in a pouch tied to a woman’s belt and contains ‘the anathema of Mar ‘Abdisho’—a text commonly found in the Book of Protection. From late antiquity, one Syriac amulet written on a sheet of silver was published by Naveh and Shaked (1985), Naveh translated one Syriac amulet written on leather (1997), and Gignoux published three amulets on leather (1987).63 Scholars have also revisited Budge’s Book of Medicines. Rudolf produced a re-edition of the astrological section which included a German translation and a detailed commentary.64 Bhayro challenged the assumption that the first section contains simple translations of Galen’s works. In two publications (2013 and 2015), Bhayro compared Galen’s Art of Medicine with the Book of Medicines and demonstrated that the latter adapts the former to suit a new cultural, material, and religious context by abridging it with Syriac Christian theology and Mesopotamian medical remedies.65

60

61 62 63

64 65

in L. Tang and D. Winkler (eds), From the Oxus River to the Chinese Shores: Studies on East Syriac Christianity in China and Central Asia (Zürich/Münster, 2013), pp. 25–41 and ‘Syriac Manuscripts from Turfan: Public Worship and Private Devotion’, in T. Li and K. Dyer (eds), From Ancient Manuscripts to Modern Dictionaries: Select Studies in Aramaic, Hebrew, and Greek (Piscataway, 2017), pp. 77–96. H. Takahashi, ‘The Syriac Fragments in the Ōtani Collection at Ryukoku University, Kyoto’, in T. Irisawa and K. Kitsudo (eds), Essays on the Manuscripts written in Central Asian Languages in the Otani Collection: Buddhism, Manichaeism, and Christianity (Japanese; Kyoto, 2017), pp. 181–211. G. Abousamra, ‘Two Syriac Amulets from Hadath Grotto (Qadisha)’, Parole de l’Orient 38 (2013), pp. 213–230. Abousamra, ‘Two Syriac amulets’, pp. 215 and 220. Naveh and Shaked, Amulets and Magic Bowls, pp. 62–68; J. Naveh, ‘A Syriac Amulet on Leather’, Journal of Semitic Studies 42:1 (1997), pp. 33–38; P. Gignoux, Incantations magiques syriaques (Louvain, 1987). S. Rudolf, Syrische Astrologie und das Syrische Medizinbuch (Berlin, 2018). S. Bhayro, ‘The Reception of Galen’s Art of Medicine in the Syriac Book of Medicines’, in B. Zisper (ed.), Medical Books in the Byzantine World (Bologna, 2013), pp. 123–144 and ‘Theory and Practice in the Syriac Book of Medicines’, in J.C. Johnson, (ed.), In the Wake of

syriac magic: an overview of previous approaches

25

Overall, this period has witnessed an increase of scholarly interest in Syriac magic texts. Yet this overview brings to light some issues with the field at present. First, a small number of scholars have made the majority of contributions. With so few voices taking part in the conversation, the studies which have been published suffer from a lack of exchange and debate with scholars researching other aspects of Syriac culture as well as with scholars studying the magical beliefs and practices of neighbouring societies. Second, the publication of source texts has been, and continues to be, sporadic. This is especially true of the amulet handbooks, where the tendency has been to publish just a small selection of amulets at a time. The value of such contributions is limited because they remove the amulets from their immediate and physical context, narrowing our understanding of factors such as how the material is compiled and presented. Furthermore, the present limitation in readily accessible material reduces the scope and detail of potential research topics. With the aim of outlining how the field can begin to remedy these issues, some key desiderata are identified below.

4

Desiderata

For the field to progress, our first task is to publish more source material. Research on the Syriac magic bowls is furthest ahead in this regard. With regard to Syriac amulets, it would be advantageous to compile, revise, and update the editions which are currently scattered across numerous journals and books. This should be combined with the publication of material which has yet to be edited. For example, Houghton Library at Harvard has five unedited amulet scrolls (Syr. 156, 159, 160, 162 and 163), and there are unedited amulet handbooks in Bibliothèque nationale de France (Syr. 347), Selly Oak Library (Mingana 316 and 583), and Staatsbibliothek (Sachau 95 and 553)—with more likely to be identified in other collections as research continues. Furthermore, to provide a complete picture of this tradition, we should aim to publish these manuscripts in toto. As for the Book of Medicines, Bhayro and Rudolf called for a critical edition to be produced. They recommended that this should consist of a re-edition of Budge’s manuscript (now bl Or. 9360), with variations from other versions presented alongside it as apparatus.66 This would answer questions relating to

66

Compendia: Infrastructural Contexts and the Licensing of Empiricism in Ancient and Medieval Mesopotamia (Berlin/Boston, 2015), pp. 147–158. Bhayro and Rudolf, ‘Budge’s Syriac Book of Medicines after One Hundred Years’, p. 124.

26

pearson

the character and originality of Budge’s version as well as philological issues.67 Furthermore, the Book of Medicines and the Book of Protection belong to a wider corpus of magico-medical, astrological, and divinatory texts which have received little scholarly attention. Al-Jeloo identified nine other titles of this genre which could once be found in the library of Urmiah College: the Book of Medicines, the Book of Omens, the Book concerning all the Organs of the Human Body, the Book of Sorcery, the Book of Unbinding Sorcery, the Book of Fortunes and Spells, the Book of Dream Interpretation, the Acts of Simon Magus, and the Book of Astrology.68 Unfortunately, the collection of Urmiah College was destroyed in the First World War, and the subsequent rarity of these books is one reason why most have not been studied. It would be worthwhile to search the catalogues of museums and libraries to see if any of these works can be located. If so, they should be edited and published to further expand the corpus. As more source material is published, a greater number of detailed and sustained studies on Syriac magic can be carried out. The study of Syriac incantation bowls is already at this second stage, but there are still topics to be explored. For instance, Moriggi stated that a study of the iconography of drawings in the Syriac incantation bowls is needed.69 Comparative work with later magic texts would also be advantageous, offering insight into how the Syriac magic tradition developed. In the study of Syriac amulets, there is much work to be done comparing amulets from the late antique, medieval, and modern periods in order to better understand their relationship. It has long been assumed that the amulets from the modern period are related to those from late antiquity, but before the discovery of amulets from the intervening medieval period it was unclear if these similarities were the result of a consistent tradition. An analysis of the way that Syriac amulets have changed and stayed the same over this thousandyear period would shed light on the way formulae, function, and praxis have developed. For instance, Moriggi suggested that priests and deacons may have started a process of ‘Christianization’, incorporating liturgical material into amulets so they could be sanctioned by the Church.70 Moreover, advances in the study of the magical practices of neighbouring cultures means that fruitful

67 68 69 70

Bhayro and Rudolf, ‘Budge’s Syriac Book of Medicines after One Hundred Years’, p. 123. N. al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā: The Spar-Sammāné and Late Antique Syriac Astrology’, aram 24 (2012), pp. 457–492 (460). M. Moriggi, A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls, p. 4 n. 8. M. Moriggi, ‘Magical Practices in Syriac Christian Culture between Late Antiquity and the Modern World’, pp. 381–382.

syriac magic: an overview of previous approaches

27

studies might be done regarding the interaction of the Syriac amulet tradition with amulets written in other Aramaic dialects or in Hebrew, Akkadian, Ethiopic, or Arabic. Bhayro and Rudolf suggested topics that should be prioritised in further studies on the Book of Medicines.71 For the first section, a systematic analysis of all the parallel Greek and Syriac passages should be carried out. For the second section, intertextual material in Hebrew, Mandaic and Arabic should be added as an appendix. Analysis of the third section should begin with a study of its terminology, with particular attention paid to the use of Iranian, Akkadian, and Greek loanwords, as well as Syriac terms. Focus in these areas will help us to discern the origins of the practical medical lore contained throughout and contribute to our understanding of how the Syriac medical tradition persevered and innovated over the course of a millennia.

5

Conclusion

The suggestions above are only preliminary—if the field can achieve the publication of more source material, the momentum seen in recent years will be able to continue. As Syriac magic texts become accessible to more scholars, new avenues of research will open up, and a greater diversity of perspectives will undoubtedly bring additional insights. The present volume is an important step towards this goal.

Bibliography G. Abousamra, ‘Two Syriac Amulets from Hadath Grotto (Qadisha)’, Parole de l’Orient 38 (2013), pp. 213–230. G.P. Badger, The Nestorians and their Rituals (2 vols; London, 1852). E. Balicka-Witakowska, ‘Illustrating Charms: A Syriac Manuscript with Magic Drawings in the Collection of the British Library’, in G.A. Kiraz (ed.), Malphono w-Rabo d-Malphone: Studies in Honour of Sebastian P. Brock, (Piscataway, 2008), pp. 779–790. S. Bhayro, ‘Magic as the Basis for Social Cohesion in pre-Islamic Mesopotamia’, Societas Magica Newsletter 25 (Spring, 2011), pp. 2–5. S. Bhayro, ‘The Reception of Galen’s Art of Medicine in the Syriac Book of Medicines’, in B. Zisper (ed.), Medical Books in the Byzantine World (Bologna, 2013), pp. 123–144.

71

Bhayro and Rudolf, ‘Budge’s Syriac Book of Medicines after One Hundred Years’, p. 216.

28

pearson

S. Bhayro, ‘Theory and practice in the Syriac Book of Medicines: the Empirical Basis for the Persistence of Near Eastern Medical Lore’, in J.C. Johnson (ed.), In the Wake of the Compendia: Infrastructural Contexts and the Licensing of Empiricism in Ancient and Medieval Mesopotamia (Berlin/Boston, 2015), pp. 147–158. S. Bhayro and S. Rudolf, ‘Budge’s Syriac Book of Medicines after One Hundred Years: Problems and Prospects’, in S.V. Panayatov and L. Vacín (eds), Mesopotamian Medicine and Magic: Studies in Honor of Markham J. Geller (Leiden, 2018), pp. 116–130. G. Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic: A History (Cambridge, 2008). S. Bolz, ‘A Jewish Adjuration Formula in Three Syriac Magic Bowls’, in M.E. Doerfler and E. Fiano and K.R. Smith (eds), Syriac Encounters: Papers from the Sixth North American Syriac Symposium, Duke University, 26–29 June 2011 (Leuven, 2015), pp. 455–466. E.A.W. Budge, Syrian Anatomy, Pathology and Therapeutics or ‘The Book of Medicines’ (2 vols; London, 1913). É. Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of Religious Life, translated by K.E. Fields (New York, 1995 [1912]). J. Frazer, The Golden Bough: A Study in Comparative Religion (London, 1890). J.G. Gager (ed.), Curse Tablets and Binding Spells from the Ancient World (Oxford, 1992). M.J. Geller, ‘Eight Incantation Bowls’, Orientalia Lovaniensia Periodica 17 (1986), pp. 101– 117. P. Gignoux, ‘A New Incantation Bowl Inscribed in Syriac’, East and West 34 (1984), pp. 47–53. P. Gignoux, Incantations magiques syriaques (Louvain, 1987). R.J.H. Gottheil, ‘Contributions to the History of Syriac Folk-Medicine’, Journal of the American Oriental Society 20 (1899), pp. 186–205. D. Hammond, ‘Magic: A Problem in Semantics’, American Anthropologist 72:6 (Dec., 1970), pp. 1349–1356. V.P. Hamilton, Syriac Incantation Bowls (Ann Arbor, 1971). Y. Harari, ‘What is a Magical Text?’ in Sh. Shaked (ed.), Officina Magica: Essays on the Practice of Magic in Antiquity (Leiden, 2005) pp. 91–124. Y. Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah (Detroit, 2017). T. Harviainen, A Syriac Incantation Bowl in the Finnish National Museum, Helsinki: A Specimen of Eastern Aramaic “Koiné” (Helsinki, 1978). H. Hubert and M. Mauss, ‘Esquisse d’une théorie générale de la magie’, L’Année Sociologique (1902–1903), pp. 1–146. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Saints in Syriac Anathemas: a Form Critical Analysis of Role’, Journal of Semitic Studies 32:1 (1987), pp. 83–104. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Genres of Syriac Amulets: a Study of Cambridge Ms. Syr. 3086’, in R. Lavenant (ed.), v Symposium Syriacum, 1988: Katholieke Universiteit, Leuven, 29– 31 août 1988 (Rome, 1990), pp. 355–368. E.C.D. Hunter, An Amulet for the Binding of Guns, Spears, Swords, Daggers and All Implements of War (Oxford, 1992).

syriac magic: an overview of previous approaches

29

E.C.D. Hunter, ‘A Scroll Amulet from Kurdistan’, aram 5 (1993), pp. 243–254. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Amulets and the Assyrians of Kurdistan’, Journal of the Assyrian Academic Society 9:2 (1995), pp. 25–29. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Another Scroll Amulet from Kurdistan’, in G.J. Reinink (ed.), After Bardaisan: Studies on Continuity and Change in Syriac Christianity in Honour of Prof. Han J.W. Drijvers (Leuven, 1999), pp. 161–172. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Magic and Medicine Amongst the Christians of Kurdistan’, in The Christian Heritage of Iraq: Collected Papers from the Christianity of Iraq i–v Seminar Days (Piscataway, 2009), pp. 187–202. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Traversing Time and Location: A Prayer-Amulet of Mar Tamsis from Turfan’, in L. Tang and D. Winkler (eds), From the Oxus River to the Chinese Shores: Studies on East Syriac Christianity in China and Central Asia (Zürich/Münster, 2013), pp. 25– 41. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Two Codex Handbooks of Amulets: Mingana ms syr 316 and Rylands ms syr 52’, in S.H. Griffith and S. Grebenstein (eds), Christsein in der islamischen welt: Festschrift für Martin Tamcke zum 60. geburtstag, (Wiesbaden, 2015), pp. 423–437. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Syriac Manuscripts from Turfan: Public Worship and Private Devotion’, in T. Li and K. Dyer (eds), From Ancient Manuscripts to Modern Dictionaries: Select Studies in Aramaic, Hebrew, and Greek (Piscataway, 2017), pp. 77–96. R. Hyam, Britain’s Imperial Century 1815–1914: A Study of Empire and Expansion (Basingstoke, 2002). W. James, ‘Reviewed Work: A General Theory of Magic by Marcel Mauss’, African Affairs 73:291 (Apr. 1974), pp. 234–235. N. al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā: The Spar-Sammāné and Late Antique Syriac Astrology’, aram 24 (2012), pp. 457–492. H. Juusola, ‘Who Wrote the Syriac Incantation Bowls?’, Studia Orientalia 85 (1999), pp. 75–92. N.H. Korsvoll, Reconsidering ‘Christian’: Context and Categorisation in the Study of Syriac Amulets and Incantation Bowls (Ph.D. dissertation, Norwegian School of Theology, 2017). S. Lee (ed.), The Dictionary of National Biography (London, 1901). A. Lyavdansky, ‘Syriac Charms in Near Eastern Context: Tracing the Origin of Formulas’, in Oral Charms in Structural and Comparative Light: Proceedings of the Conference of the International Society for Folk Narrative Research’s (isfnr) Committee on Charms, Charmers, and Charming 27–29th October 2011, Moscow (Moscow, 2011), pp. 15–21. M. Mauss, A General Theory of Magic (New York, 1972). M. Moriggi, ‘Syriac Incantation Bowls and Linguistic Interference in Sasanian Babylonia’, in A. Mengozzi (ed.), Studi Afroasiatici: xi Incontro Italiano di Linguistica Camitosemitica / Afro-Asiatic Studies: 11th Italian Meeting of Afro-Asiatic Linguistics (Milan, 2005), pp. 313–324.

30

pearson

M. Moriggi, ‘Between Late Aramaic and Neo-Aramaic: Reflections on some Phenomena in Aramaic of Late Antiquity’, aram 24 (2012), pp. 87–102. M. Moriggi, A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls (Leiden, 2014). M. Moriggi, ‘Jewish Divorce Formulae in Syriac Incantation Bowls’, Aramaic Studies 13:1 (2015), pp. 82–94. M. Moriggi, ‘“And the Impure and Abominable Priests Fled for Help to the Names of the Devils”: Amulets and Magical Practices in Syriac Christian Culture between Late Antiquity and the Modern World’, Hugoye: Journal of Syriac Studies 19:2 (2016), pp. 371–384. C. Müller-Kessler, Die Zauberschalentexte in der Hilprecht-Sammlung, Jena, und weitere Nippur-Texte anderer Sammlungen (Wiesbaden, 2005). J. Naveh, ‘A Syriac Amulet on Leather’, Journal of Semitic Studies 42:1 (1997), pp. 33–38. J. Naveh and Sh. Shaked, Amulets and Magic Bowls (Jerusalem, 1985). E. Renan, De Philosophia Peripatetica apud Syros Commentationem Historicam (Paris, 1852). L. van Rompay, ‘Some Remarks on the Language of Syriac Incantation Texts’, in R. Lavenant (ed.), v Symposium Syriacum, 1988: Katholieke Universiteit, Leuven, 29–31 août 1988 (Rome, 1990), pp. 369–381. S. Rudolph, Syrische Astrologie und das Syrische Medizinbuch (Berlin, 2018). J. Scarborough and P.J. Van Der Eijk and A. Hanson and N. Siraisi (eds), Magic and Rationality in Ancient Near Eastern and Graeco-Roman Medicine (Leiden, 2004). J.B. Segal, Catalogue of the Aramaic and Mandaic Incantation Bowls in the British Museum (London, 2000). Sh. Shaked, ‘“Peace be Upon You, Exatled Angels”: on Hekhalot, Liturgy, and Incantation Bowls’, Jewish Studies Quarterly 2:3 (1995), pp. 197–219. Sh. Shaked and J.N. Ford and S. Bhayro (eds), Aramaic Bowl Spells: Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Magic Bowls (Leiden, 2013). S. Smith, British Imperialism 1750–1970 (Cambridge, 1998). A. Stibbe, ‘Abrakadabra, Alakazam: Colonialism and the Discourse of Entertainment Magic’, Surroundings: An Interdisciplinary Journal 88:3/4 (2005), pp. 413–425. H. Takahashi, ‘The Syriac Fragments in the Ōtani Collection at Ryukoku University, Kyoto’, in T. Irisawa and K. Kitsudo (eds), Essays on the Manuscripts written in Central Asian Languages in the Otani Collection: Buddhism, Manichaeism, and Christianity (Japanese; Kyoto, 2017), pp. 181–211. J. Teixidor, ‘The Syriac Incantation Bowls in the Iraq Museum’, Sumer 18 (1962), pp. 51– 62. R. Wax and M. Wax, ‘The Notion of Magic’, Current Anthropology 4:5 (Dec., 1963), pp. 495–581. W. Wright, An Introduction to Syriac Literature (London, 1894).

chapter 3

Syriac Magic and Medicine: A Near-Eastern Paradigm of Priestcraft Siam Bhayro

1

Introduction

In every period for which we have evidence, we can see Syriac Christian priests preserving, studying, and practising both the magical and medical arts. The nature of the evidence changes from period to period, with the modern period providing both manuscript evidence and eye-witness testimony, the medieval period furnishing manuscript evidence, and the late-antique period giving more indirect evidence. Taking a diachronic approach, however, means that the more recent evidence shines a light on the earlier, less illuminated periods. This, in turn, permits a consistent picture of Syriac Christian priestcraft to emerge from the modern, medieval, and late-antique periods, suggesting a remarkable degree of continuity in terms of magical-medical therapeutic knowledge and practice. This revolves around two manuscript types—the magical ‘Book of Protection’ and the magical-medical ‘Book of Medicines’— which probably first appeared during the so-called ‘Syriac Renaissance’ (eleventh–thirteenth centuries ce) as learned and practical handbooks for use by priests. This does not mean, of course, that lay people were not preserving and practising various forms of magical-medical therapy. In keeping with other milieux, aside from the priests, there were also root cutters, drug traders, herbalists, midwives and such like.1 This was a common feature of most ancient and medieval societies. But it will become clear that Syriac Christian priests represent a special case, namely a near-eastern paradigm of learned and literate magicalmedical priestcraft that transcends three millennia. The origins of this model of priestcraft can be discerned in the pre-Christian near-eastern antecedents of the Syriac Christian priests—the Mesopotamian āšipus and the Iranian magi.

1 L. Lehmhaus and M. Martelli, ‘Introduction’, in L. Lehmhaus and M. Martelli (eds), Collecting Recipes: Byzantine and Jewish Pharmacology in Dialogue (Berlin, 2017), pp. 1–27 (19–20).

© Siam Bhayro, 2022 | doi:10.1163/9789004467200_0

32 2

bhayro

The Modern Period

As Abigail Pearson discusses in her contribution to this volume, in terms of English-speaking scholarship on Syriac magic, our earliest source is Badger’s first-hand account of his travels in Mesopotamia in the middle of the nineteenth century.2 In his fifteenth chapter, which focusses on the Nestorian clergy, Badger moved seamlessly from quoting their liturgy to quoting several examples of ‘charms’ intended to remove hatred, to inspire hatred, to prevent fire, and to inspire love.3 Regarding these magical spells, Badger wrote:4 I regret to state that the clergy are generally the authors of these absurd and profane effusions; and I was not a little surprised to learn, on my visit to Leezan in 1850, that Kasha Kena, who is so highly spoken of both by Mr. Ainsworth and Mr. Layard, is in the practice of drawing up and transcribing similar charms, which he sells to the people in the surrounding villages. Badger is clear that the practitioners of magic were, to his dismay, the more respected members of the clergy. Furthermore, the provision of magic spells was a source of income for these clergymen, and, significantly, the spells were transmitted and sold in written form. This latter point is important because, elsewhere, Badger described how the common folk were illiterate and it was only the more educated among the clergy who could read and write.5 The provision of written spells to illiterate clients is noteworthy because the clients were not able to read the text on the amulet. The client’s trust in the efficacy of the magical device, therefore, was not directly based on the text itself; instead, it was the priestly status and personal reputation of the scribe that was the guarantee of the product’s prestige and hence perceived efficacy.6 In terms of process, Badger referred to the clergyman ‘drawing up and transcribing’ charms. Elsewhere, Badger stated, ‘I have in my possession an entire

2 G.P. Badger, The Nestorians and their Rituals &c. (2 vols; London, 1852). 3 Badger, The Nestorians and their Rituals, vol. i, pp. 225–240; the spells are given on pp. 238– 240. 4 Badger, The Nestorians and their Rituals, vol. i, p. 240. 5 See, for example, Badger, The Nestorians and their Rituals, vol. i, pp. 218–219. 6 For parallels within a Jewish context, see G. Veltri, ‘The Magician/Magush in Rabbinic Judaism’, in G. Veltri, A Mirror of Rabbinic Hermeneutics: Studies in Religion, Magic, and Language Theory in Ancient Judaism (Berlin, 2015), pp. 159–172 (reference courtesy of Marco Moriggi).

syriac magic and medicine

33

volume of these charms, from which the following specimens are translated’.7 This most likely refers to a recipe book, which was consulted in the process of drawing up (presumably in discussion with the client) and transcribing the client’s personalised amulet. Badger routinely expressed negative views of the clergy, considering them to be barely literate. But there were, in his view, some exceptions, and it is likely that it was the more erudite members of the clergy to whom the general population had recourse when wishing to purchase an amulet. After all, it would take a reasonably educated priest to be able to make effective use of a recipe book in the production of an amulet. Elsewhere, we are given the following glimpse into the other scholarly activities of the clergy:8 A few years after the events narrated by Mutran Hanna, one Gawrièl, a native of Mardeen, who had acquired some wealth in mercantile speculations, retired from business at Baghdad, and undertook to instruct several Chaldean youths gratuitously in the Arabic language, in grammar, logic, and rhetoric, of which he was considered perfect master. His talents and zeal were so much appreciated, that on his arrival at Mosul, the Chaldeans offered him the convent of Rabban Hormuzd, then deserted and partly in ruins, as a seminary, and invited him to take up his abode there. He acceded to the proposal, and in a short time collected a number of pupils, most of whom soon after took the vows of poverty and celibacy. These monks, headed by their lay superior … It would appear, therefore, that there were instances of members of the clergy being educated to a higher level, including in the various branches of philosophy, and that it was assumed that monasteries were the natural environment for such pursuits (even when the teacher was not a clergyman). It was probably such educated clergy, working with manuscripts in monasteries, who had access to magical recipe books. The same most likely pertains to magicalmedical manuscripts. Thus al-Jeloo states, in his discussion of both types of manuscript in a more contemporary setting, ‘Often such manuscripts are to be found with priests or deacons of the Church, and are usually written or copied by men with such ecclesiastical ranks’.9 For example, al-Jeloo describes find7 Badger, The Nestorians and their Rituals, vol. i, p. 238. 8 Badger, The Nestorians and their Rituals, vol. i, p. 162. 9 N. al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā: The Spar-Sammāné and Late Antique Syriac Astrology’, aram 24 (2012), pp. 457–492 (461; see also 463).

34

bhayro

ing two dated manuscripts during fieldwork in Syria and Iraq in 2009, both of which had been copied by members of the clergy.10 The earlier, dated to 1719, is a magical recipe book akin to those published by Gollancz.11 The later, dated to 1796, is a magical-medical manuscript similar to bl Or. 9360, which was published by Budge.12 Although the magical recipe books differ from manuscript to manuscript, they often designate themselves as a 焏‫ܪܝ‬熏‫ܐ ܕܢܛ‬狏‫ܝܒ‬狏‫‘ ܟ‬Book of Protection’, which is a convenient term to adopt for this manuscript type.13 It is likely that Badger’s volume of charms was such a ‘Book of Protection’.14 The colophon of the first manuscript published by Gollancz is clear that his manuscript was copied by a priest in a monastic setting: 焏‫ܝܟ‬犯‫ ܒ‬焏‫ܚ‬犯‫ܐ ܗܕܐ ܒܝ‬狏‫ܝܒ‬狏‫ ܟ‬狏‫ܫܠܡ‬ ‫ܐ‬狏‫ܝܒ‬狏‫ ܟ‬狏‫ ܫܠܡ‬.爯‫ ܐܡܝ‬焏‫ܝܟ‬煯̈‫ ܒ‬焏‫̈ܢܝ‬熏‫ ܠܝ‬煟‫ ܐܐܩܝ‬狏‫ ܒܫܢ‬煿‫ ܒ‬. ‫ ܠ‬. ‫ܣ‬熏‫ܬܡ‬ 爯‫ܐ ܗܕܐ ܡ‬狏‫ܝܒ‬狏‫ ܟ‬狏‫ … ܫܠܡ‬爯‫ ܐܡܝ‬爿‫ܪܓܝ‬熏‫ܝ ܓܝ‬犯‫ܗ ܕܡ‬狏‫ ܡܛܠ‬狏‫ܗܕܐ ܬܚܝ‬

犯‫ ܒ‬爿‫ܪܓܝ‬熏‫ ܓܝ‬焏‫ ܩܫܝܫ‬爯‫ ܕܝ‬熏‫ ܗܢ‬焏‫ ܘܢܫܝܫ‬焏‫ܐ ܘܙܢܝ‬犯‫ ܘܫܩ‬焏‫ ܘܚܛܝ‬焏‫ܝ ܡܚܝܠ‬煟‫ܐ̈ܝ‬ .爯‫ ܘܐܡܝ‬爯‫ ܐܝ‬焏‫ܐ ܫܒܢ‬狏‫ܝܟ‬犯‫ܐ ܒ‬狏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܩ‬爯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܙܝܥ‬焏‫‘ ܡܢܚ‬This book is finished in the blessed month Tammuz, the thirtieth (day), in the year 2114 of the blessed Greeks (i.e. 1802–1803ce). Amen. This book is finished under the roof of Mar George. Amen … This book is finished by the hands of the feeble and sinning and wicked and impure and infirm one, and that is the priest George, son of the late Zaia, from the blessed village Shibani. Yea and Amen’.15 Again, as with the ‘Book of Protection’, there is also considerable scope for variation between the magical-medical manuscripts. The self-designation 焏‫ ܕܣܡܡ̈ܢ‬焏‫ܒ‬狏‫‘ ܟ‬Book of Medicines’ is convenient,16 even though manu-

10

11 12 13

14 15 16

See al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā’, p. 462. In terms of the specific types of magical and magicalmedical texts discussed in this paper, al-Jeloo lists the manuscripts and facsimiles that he photographed during his fieldwork in 2009 (458; see also his first appendix on 483–484), the majority of which were copied by members of the clergy. H. Gollancz, The Book of Protection &c. (London, 1912). E.A.W. Budge, The Syriac Book of Medicines. Syrian Anatomy, Pathology and Therapeutics in the Early Middle Ages &c. (2 vols; London, 1913). See, for example, Gollancz, Book of Protection, p. 1. In addition to those edited by Gollancz, I am aware of the following magical recipe books: Ms. Syr. 52, housed in the John Rylands University Library of Manchester (edited by Abigail Pearson as part of her PhD dissertation); Mingana Mss. Syr. 316 and Syr. 583, housed in the Cadbury Research Library in Birmingham; Sachau Ms. 95 and Ms. Oct. 553, housed in the Staatsbibliothek in Berlin; Ms. Syr. 347, housed in the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris; Ms. Add. 3086, housed in the Cambridge University Library; and Ms. Or. 6673, housed in the British Library in London. See also the contribution by Michael Zellmann-Rohrer in this volume. So also al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā’, p. 460. Gollancz, Book of Protection, pp. lx (translation) and pp. 34–35 (text). See, for example, Budge, Syriac Book of Medicines, vol. i, p. 611. In addition to the one edited

syriac magic and medicine

35

scripts of this type can contain several different types of texts that have been assembled into an encyclopaedic therapeutic handbook, including, but not limited to the following:17 a more-overtly medical section, containing edited quotations of earlier translations of Galen, interspersed with complex medical prescriptions, organised in successive chapters from the head downwards;18 a more-divinatory section, containing astrological omens, astronomical, meteorological and calendrical lore, definitions of weights and measures, forecasts for the year, hemerologies, and other techniques relating to health, good fortune, ̈ ̈ success in marriage, childbirth and such like;19 a 焏‫ ܐܖܥܢܝ‬焏‫ ܣܡܡܢ‬犯‫ܣܦ‬ ‘Book of Local Medicines’, that is, indigenous practical medical recipes, organised in the traditional head-to-foot order.20 The colophon in Budge’s ‘Book of Medicines’ manuscript confirms that the scribe was a clergyman: 爯‫ܒ ܕܝ‬狏‫ܐܬܟ‬ 焏‫ ܐܫܥܝ‬犯‫ ܒ‬焏‫ ܥܝܣ‬焏‫ ܡܫܡܫܢ‬焏‫ ܘܚܛܝ‬焏‫ܝ ܡܚܝܠ‬煟‫ܝ‬焏‫‘ ܒ‬And it was written by the hands of the feeble and sinning deacon Isa son of Eshaʿya’.21 Budge’s own description of the circumstances in which he acquired his copy includes this description of the manuscript from which it was made:22

17 18

19

20 21 22

by Budge, I am aware of the following manuscripts of this type: Ms. or. fol. 3119, housed in the Staatsbibliothek in Berlin; Ms. Syr. 44, housed in the John Rylands University Library of Manchester; Ms. or. 4434, housed in the British Library; Mss. Syr. 325 and Syr. 424– 425, housed in the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris; and qacct 149, digitised by the Hill Museum and Manuscript Library. For more details of these manuscripts, see S. Bhayro and S. Rudolf, ‘Budge’s Syriac Book of Medicines after One Hundred Years: Problems and Prospects’, in S.V. Panayotov and L. Vacín (eds), Mesopotamian Medicine and Magic: Studies in Honor of Markham J. Geller (Leiden, 2018), pp. 116–130 (124–126). For more types of text that can be included in the ‘Book of Medicines’, see al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā’, p. 462. In addition to Bhayro and Rudolf, ‘Budge’s Syriac Book of Medicines’, and al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā’, see S. Bhayro, ‘Studying the Syriac Medical Traditions: The Mesopotamian and Classical Greek Legacies’, in N. Afif, S. Bhayro, P.E. Pormann, W.I. Sellers and N. Smelova (eds), The Syriac Galen Palimpsest: A New Paradigm for Cross-Disciplinary Research (London, forthcoming). See also the following studies that focus on this part of the ‘Book of Medicines’: S. Bhayro, ‘The Reception of Galen’s Art of Medicine in the Syriac Book of Medicines’, in B. Zipser (ed.), Medical Books in the Byzantine World (Bologna, 2013), pp. 123–144; S. Bhayro, ‘Theory and Practice in the Syriac Book of Medicines: The Empirical Basis for the Persistence of Near Eastern Medical Lore’, in J.C. Johnson (ed.), In the Wake of the Compendia: Infrastructural Contexts and the Licensing of Empiricism in Ancient and Medieval Mesopotamia (Berlin, 2015), pp. 147–158. In addition to Bhayro and Rudolf, ‘Budge’s Syriac Book of Medicines’, Bhayro, ‘Studying the Syriac Medical Traditions’, and al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā’, see S. Rudolf, Syrische Astrologie und das Syrische Medizinbuch (Berlin, 2018). See Bhayro and Rudolf, ‘Budge’s Syriac Book of Medicines’, pp. 117–118. Budge, Syriac Book of Medicines, vol. i, p. 612. Budge, Syriac Book of Medicines, vol. i, pp. xl–xli.

36

bhayro

Its size and general appearance suggested that it had been copied in some monastery on or near the Tigris, in which it had formed part of the library, for, had it been intended for the private use of some monk, the manuscript would have been of smaller size. The quires that had been torn away from the beginning must have contained the Introduction and the first two Chapters of the Book of Medicines, and it is very probable that there were in them theories or statements that were not acceptable to the monkish readers … Notwithstanding Budge’s final speculative remark,23 the general point that this manuscript originated in a monastic setting, and was held as a practical reference work for use by the clergy, accords well with the overall picture of the context in which these texts were copied and used. It was the clergy who preserved both the magical and the magical-medical literature, and it was the monasteries that were the repositories of such technical knowledge. And, as we have seen, the common folk, when in need of therapy, would employ the services of esteemed members of the clergy.

3

The Medieval Period

Budge’s copy of the ‘Book of Medicines’ was made in 1894; Badger’s copy of the ‘Book of Protection’ probably comes from the middle of the nineteenth century, as does his eye-witness testimony. The two dated manuscripts mentioned by alJeloo both come from the eighteenth century. Given what Badger observed of the practice of his day, in which the priests were still functioning as magicalmedical therapists, it is unlikely that the manuscripts procured by Badger and Budge were jealously guarded by their owners simply to drive up the price— they probably remained in practical use and were thus an important source of both income and prestige for their owners.24 Indeed, this continues to be the case, as al-Jeloo reports how jealously guarded these manuscripts are even in the twenty-first century;25 he also mentions the existence of modern translations into Neo-Aramaic, dating from the second half of the twentieth century,

23

24 25

I have argued elsewhere that the ‘missing’ initial chapters contained more theoretical or general material that was not of interest to those desiring a practical and specific collection of medical lore; see Bhayro, ‘Theory and Practice’, pp. 155–156. See the account in Budge, Syriac Book of Medicines, vol. i, p. xl. See al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā’, pp. 457 & 459.

syriac magic and medicine

37

again, presumably, for practical therapeutic purposes.26 In the cases of both the Syriac and the Neo-Aramaic copies of these text types that were produced in the second half of the twentieth century, the information given by al-Jeloo shows that these texts continue to be copied by, and sold to, members of the clergy.27 This testifies to a continuity in magical-medical therapy from at least the eighteenth century to the present. Moreover, given that Budge’s copy of the ‘Book of Medicines’ was made from what was, in his estimation, a twelfthcentury manuscript, it seems clear that these traditions stretch back, at the very least, into the medieval period.28 Thus al-Jeloo refers to Sarau’s catalogue of manuscripts from Urmia, in which two ‘Book of Medicines’ type manuscripts are listed, one of which dates to the thirteenth century.29 In terms of the ‘Book of Protection’ type, al-Jeloo, having noted that the earliest known dated copy was made in 1719, adds that ‘the text is undoubtedly much older since most amulets would have perished with their owners, and even many of the surviving texts are undated’.30 This would most likely push the ‘Book of Protection’ type back into the medieval period as well. This raises an important question regarding the circumstances that led to the emergence of the ‘Book of Protection’ and ‘Book of Medicines’ text types. In addressing this question in the way that is suggested below, it is my hope that we will approach these text types from a new perspective that properly appreciates their elevated status. Recently, in scholarship on Syriac literature, we have witnessed an increased interest in the so-called ‘Syriac Renaissance’, that is, on the flourishing of Syriac literature and scholarship from the eleventh to the thirteenth centuries.31 Mirroring contemporary trends in Arabic scholarship,32 this period saw the

26 27 28 29

30 31 32

See al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā’, p. 461. See al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā’, pp. 483–484. Budge, Syriac Book of Medicines, vol. i, p. xl. The other is said to date to the fifth century, which, if true, would be remarkable. See alJeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā’, p. 461; see also O. Sarau, Catalogue of Syriac Manuscripts in the Library of the Museum Association of Oroomiah College (Urmia, 1898), p. 37. See al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā’, p. 461. See H. Teule, ‘The Syriac Renaissance’, in H. Teule and C.F. Tauwinkl, with B. ter Haar Romeny and J. van Ginkel (eds), The Syriac Renaissance (Leuven, 2010), pp. 1–30. See, for example, the following remark by Carl Brockelmann at the end of his discussion of the first ‘golden age’ in Arabic literature: ‘The need to compose compact overviews of all or at least the greater part of the sciences … only manifested itself towards the end of this period’ (i.e. around the turn of the millennium)—C. Brockelmann, History of the Arabic Written Tradition Volume 1, translated by J. Lameer (Leiden, 2016), p. 246. For discussions of the parallel trends in Arabic scholarship, see: H.D. Isaacs, ‘Arabic Medical Literature’, in M.J.L. Young, J.D. Latham and R.B. Serjeant (eds), Religion, Learning and Sci-

38

bhayro

production of vast encyclopaedic compilations in which sources from earlier periods were collected and bodies of knowledge were organised according to the needs of contemporary scholars. Furthermore, during this process, a certain degree of acculturation took place, in which editors went beyond simply compiling earlier texts, but adjusted them so that they would better accord with their Syriac Christian context. Modern scholarship on the Syriac Renaissance has tended to focus on the most important personalities, particularly Barhebraeus (1226–1286), whose ‫ܐ‬狏‫ܘܬ ܚܟܡ‬焏‫ ܕܚ‬焏‫ܒ‬狏‫‘ ܟ‬Book of the Cream of Wisdom’ presents an encyclopaedic survey of Aristotelian scholarship on logic, the physical world, metaphysics, and practical philosophy.33 But other luminaries are also considered, including Eliya of Nisibis (975–1046), Michael the Syrian (1126–1199), and ʿAbdišoʿ bar Brikha (d. 1318). And, of course, one thing they all have in common is that they were all high-ranking members of the clergy. In terms of the literary products of the Syriac Renaissance, modern scholars have tended to focus on the sciences (physical, natural and medical), theology and philosophy, chronography, and the arts, particularly poetry.34 The one major field that is omitted from such studies is magic. This omission is, of course, attributable to an historic prejudice, both within Syriac studies but also in the wider academic context, the echoes of which persist to this day.35 But the silence is all the more deafening when one considers that the two main text types, the ‘Book of Medicines’ and the ‘Book of Protection’, both display precisely the same characteristics of the other, more celebrated, compilations of the same period. Both text types contain pre-existing written material that was collected and organised in order to produce practical encyclopaedic compen-

33

34 35

ence in the ʿAbbasid Period (Cambridge, 1990), pp. 342–363 (354–359); in the same volume, see G. Saliba, ‘Al-Bīrūnī and the Sciences of his Time’, pp. 405–423 (413–421); see also the sections on medicine (556–570) and the occult sciences (574–577) in Brockelmann, History of the Arabic Written Tradition. Similar trends can also be observed in the production of Byzantine Greek iatrosophia, practical medical compendia that also combine magical and medical lore, which became more popular after the fall of Constantinople in 1453; see the first chapter in P.A. Clark, A Cretan Healer’s Handbook in the Byzantine Tradition: Text, Translation and Commentary (Farnham, 2011). A systematic comparison of the Syriac ‘Book of Medicines’ text type with the Greek iatrosophia promises to be a fruitful enterprise. See S. Brock, A Brief Outline of Syriac Literature (Baker Hill, 1997), pp. 75–80. For an excellent example of recent scholarship on Barhebraeus, see H. Takahashi, Aristotelian Meteorology in Syriac: Barhebraeus, Butyrum Sapientiae, Books of Mineralogy and Meteorology (Leiden, 2004). See, for example, Teule, ‘The Syriac Renaissance’, as well as the papers published in that volume. See Abigail Pearson’s contribution to this volume.

syriac magic and medicine

39

dia. Moreover, both the magical and medical content has clearly been acculturated to suit its Christian context.36 In other words, both the ‘Book of Medicines’ and the ‘Book of Protection’ reflect the Weltanschauung of the Syriac Renaissance. It is in this light that we should consider how the physician and medical historian Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah (d. 1270) describes the education of the Melkite Christian, Muwaffaq al-Dīn Yaʿqūb ibn Siqlāb (d. 1227). We are told that Ibn Siqlāb was born and raised in Jerusalem, where he studied at a local monastery under a monk who is described thus: ‘a virtuous man, a philosopher … who was an expert in the natural sciences, a master in geometry and arithmetic … wellversed in astrology and the observation of the stars: he knew of fates that had been foretold and had come to pass, and amazing warnings’.37 The latter part of this description accords well with the content of the second part of Budge’s version of the ‘Book of Medicines’, while what precedes it accords with what modern scholars have focussed on when studying the Syriac Renaissance. Thus Ibn Siqlāb was taught at a monastery by a monk who was also a philosopher and scientist, and who also possessed an expertise in astrology and divination. This shows that, to those active in the Syriac Renaissance, the artificial distinction drawn by modern scholars between the magical and non-magical arts would not have been recognised. It is no longer acceptable, therefore, to view the production and preservation of the ‘Book of Medicines’ and the ‘Book of Protection’ text types as anything other than part of the same ‘high’ learned and literate culture that produced the other, more celebrated, works of science, philosophy etc. The ‘Book of Medicines’ and the ‘Book of Protection’ should now be permitted to take their place among the other products of the Syriac Renaissance.38 Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah also devotes much space to discussing another distinguished Melkite Christian physician, Muwaffaq al-Din ibn al-Muṭrān (d. 1191). In doing so, he tells us that Ibn al-Muṭrān’s father was a devout Christian who travelled to the West to learn more about his faith as well as ‘the several schools of Christian thought’. He then studied medicine in Baghdad, and finally he settled in Damascus where he practised medicine. Significantly, the Arabic 36

37

38

For an example of acculturation in a medical passage, see Bhayro, ‘The Reception of Galen’s Art of Medicine’, pp. 133–136; for Christian elements in the magical texts, see Gaby Abousamra’s contribution to this volume. See E. Savage-Smith, S. Swain and G.J. van Gelder (eds and trans), A Literary History of Medicine. The ʿUyūn al-anbāʾ fī ṭabaqāt al-aṭibbāʾ of Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah (3 vols; Leiden: 2020), vol. 3–2, p. 1511. This point is also made in more detail by Abigail Pearson in her PhD dissertation, which will be published in due course.

40

bhayro

term ‫( المطران‬al-muṭrān) means ‘the metropolitan’; in other words, it is possible that Ibn al-Muṭrān’s father was some sort of bishop who studied theology, philosophy and medicine, and served as both a high-ranking clergyman and physician in twelfth-century Damascus.39 When we consider both the modern and medieval periods, therefore, a consistent model of priestcraft emerges, in which the more erudite priests would not simply serve as intermediaries between their communities and God—they would also study the arts and sciences, and they would tend to the therapeutic needs of their congregants using a range of magical and medical methods.

4

Late Antiquity

We are fortunate to have a very informative primary source that gives us a valuable insight, albeit from a polemical perspective, into the magical practices that were prevalent among Christians in the Syro-Mesopotamian milieu of Late Antiquity.40 The fifth-century priest and poet Isḥaq of Antioch wrote a memrā, which has been attributed to Ephrem, in which he denounced the magical practices perpetrated by Christian priests. Such practices are described as being ‫ܐ‬狏‫ܡܝ‬煟‫ܬܐ ܿܗܝ ܩ‬熏‫‘ ܚܢܦ‬ancient paganism’, which, leaving aside Isḥaq’s withering condemnation, probably reflects the reality that there was no small amount of continuation from pre-Christian into Christian magical practice.41 Indeed, Moriggi refers to continuity in terms of both the reception of pre-Christian magic into Syriac Christian texts, and the persistence of such texts and practices even to the present day. And, of course, it was the clergy, working in their scriptoria, who accomplished the initial reception and acculturation of ancient pagan lore into its new Syriac Christian context.42 Thus the model of priestcraft that is evident for the modern and medieval periods can be traced further back into Late Antiquity. Our evidence for this period is often tangential, but an analysis of the enigmatic Bardaiṣan of Edessa should prove instructive.43 39 40

41 42 43

See Savage-Smith et al., A Literary History of Medicine, vol. 3–2, p. 1404. See M. Moriggi, ‘ “And the Impure and Abominable Priests Fled for Help to the Names of the Devils”: Amulets and Magical Practices in Syriac Christian Culture between Late Antiquity and the Modern World’, Hugoye: Journal of Syriac Studies 19 (2016), pp. 371–384 (379). Moriggi, ‘ “And the Impure and Abominable Priests”’, p. 373. Moriggi, ‘ “And the Impure and Abominable Priests”’, p. 382. Some of what follows is also discussed in S. Bhayro, ‘Treating the Body and the Soul in Late-Antique and Early-Medieval Syriac Sources: The Syro-Mesopotamian Context of

syriac magic and medicine

41

Bardaiṣan flourished in the late second and early third centuries of our era. Although he was a prominent member of the royal court of Abgar viii, the Great (r. 177–212) in Edessa, his own origins are unclear. He is variously described by later, less-reliable, writers as being Armenian, Mesopotamian, Syrian, and Babylonian. The final three terms probably reflect the general SyroMesopotamian milieu in Late Antiquity. The reference to Armenia could derive from Bardaiṣan spending the latter part of his life there, spreading the Christian faith, or because he had some ties to that region; he also appears to have written a history of Armenia.44 Julius Africanus, who met Bardaiṣan in Edessa in 195, referred to him as a ‘Parthian’, which probably refers to the prevailing political and, to a lesser extent, cultural dominance of this Iranian empire in Mesopotamia in the period leading up to, and during most of, Bardaiṣan’s lifetime.45 Like the king he served, Bardaiṣan was a pagan convert to Christianity. He excelled across an impressive range of disciplines, including theology, philosophy, astronomy, astrology, and anthropology, and he gained fame as a poet and hymnist.46 He is also indirectly responsible for what is probably the oldest piece of Syriac literature—the ‘Dialogue on Fate’ or ‘Book of the Laws of the Countries’—which was written by his disciple Philip, and which recounts a theological debate between Bardaiṣan and a certain Awida.47 Crucially, for our line of argument, the narrative opens with a seldom noticed detail, namely that the setting for this debate is Bardaiṣan making a ̈ 熏‫ܡ ܝ‬煟‫ ܩ‬爯‫ܡ‬ physician’s house call: ‫ܡ‬犯‫ ܠܫܡܫܓ‬犯‫ ܠܡܣܥ‬爯‫ ܗܘܝ‬爯‫ܐ ܥܠܝ‬狏‫ܡ‬

44 45

46

47

Bardaiṣan and Sergius’, in A. Usacheva, J. Ulrich and S. Bhayro (eds), The Unity of Body and Soul in Patristic and Byzantine Thought (Paderborn, 2021), pp. 213–228. See Drijvers, Bardaiṣan of Edessa, p. 11. See H.J.W. Drijvers, Bardaiṣan of Edessa (Assen, 1966), pp. 217–218. Drijvers suggests that ‘Parthian’ may reflect Bardaiṣan’s position in the court of Abgar, but allows for the possibility that it reflects Bardaiṣan’s ethnic background (p. 167). Notwithstanding this possibility, I still prefer to understand it in a political and cultural way, given that the Parthians were dominant in both of the regions in which we can be certain that Bardaiṣan resided, namely Upper Mesopotamia (prior to its formal inclusion in the Roman Empire in 216) and then Armenia—see Drijvers, Bardaiṣan of Edessa, p. 208. It is also possible that, for Julius Africanus, ‘Parthian’ was a way of referring to the typical status and function of a magus; see the argument advanced below. In addition to Drijvers, Bardaiṣan of Edessa, see (with further references) S.P. Brock, ‘Bardaiṣan (154–222)’, in S.P. Brock, A.M. Butts, G.A. Kiraz and L. Van Rompay (eds), Gorgias Encyclopedic Dictionary of the Syriac Heritage: Electronic Edition, 2018, https://gedsh​ .bethmardutho.org/Bardaisan (last accessed 13 January 2021). For the Syriac text with an English translation, see H.J.W. Drijvers, The Book of the Laws of Countries (Assen, 1965).

42

bhayro

… 爯‫ܠ‬焏‫ ܫ‬煟‫ ܥܒܝ‬犯‫ܐ ܕܫܦܝ‬熟‫ ܘܚ‬煿‫ ܓܫ‬煟‫ ܘܟ‬.‫ܢ‬犏‫ܕܝ‬犯‫ ܒ‬爯‫ ܬܡ‬爯‫ ܘܐܬܐ ܐܫܟܚ‬.‫ܢ‬熏‫ܐܚ‬ ‘Recently, we had gone to visit our brother Shemashgram, and Bardaiṣan came and found us there. And after he had examined him and seen that he was faring well, he asked us …’.48 Philip thus informs us that he and his colleagues went to visit another colleague. The use of the term 焏‫‘ ܐܚ‬brother’ suggests that they are members of the clergy. The verb used for ‘visit’ is 犯‫ܣܥ‬, which is often used in a medical context to mean ‘care for, look after, heal’. For example, Bar Hebraeus relates how the Baghdadi physician Ibn Jazlah accrued significant wealth because he would only visit (犯‫ )ܣܥ‬his friends for free when they were sick; everyone else had to pay.49 So it appears that Philip and his colleagues are visiting another colleague who is sick in order to attend to his ill health, something confirmed by Bardaiṣan’s actions. The first thing Bardaiṣan does upon his arrival is examine Shemashgram. The verb used for ‘examine’ is 犿‫ܓ‬, which literally means ‘grope’ and can be used to refer to a physical examination by means of touch. For example, the same verb is used in the Syriac version of Luke 24:39, in which the resurrected Jesus suggests to Thomas that he physically touches his wounds. It is only after Bardaiṣan has ascertained Shemashgram’s state of health that he turns to the others and joins in with their theological debate. This raises the question of which system of medicine Bardaiṣan was practising when he visited Shemashgram, or, to put it another way, what his sources of technical knowledge were. Before discussing medicine, it is worthwhile considering the source of Bardaiṣan’s astronomical knowledge. In the ‘Book of the Laws of the Countries’, Bardaiṣan quotes from a text called the ‘Book of the Chaldaeans’, which appears to have been a Syriac text that preserved a body of Mesopotamian astronomical tradition that was translated from Akkadian. For example, at one ̈ ‫ ܢ‬焏‫ ܫ̈ܒܥ‬犯‫ ܗܘܐ ܓܝ‬焏‫ܠ‬ point Bardaiṣan states: 焏‫ ܒܥܠܡ‬爯‫ܟܚܝ‬狏‫ ܡܫ‬爯‫ܣܝ‬熏‫ܡ‬ ̈ ̈ 焏‫ ܘܐܦ ܠ‬.焏‫ܫ‬熏‫ ܕܡܠ‬焏‫ ܠܡܢܝܢ‬犯‫ ܬܖܥܣ‬焏‫ ܘܐܦܠ‬.爯‫̈ܟܒܝ‬熏‫ ܟ‬焏‫ ܕܫܒܥ‬焏‫ܠܡܢܝܢ‬ ̈ ‫ ܘ‬爯‫ܝ‬狏‫‘ ܬܠ‬For we do not find seven laws in the world .焏‫ ܕܕ̈ܩܢܣ‬焏‫ܐ ܠܡܢܝܢ‬狏‫ܫ‬ according to the number of the seven stars, nor twelve according to the number of the signs of the zodiac, nor thirty-six according to the number of the decanal stars’.50 Even in this short quotation, which gives some technical astral details, we can discern an Akkadian substratum. The term used for ‘sign of the zodiac’ (焏‫ܫ‬熏‫ )ܡܠ‬comes from Akkadian mul lumāšu,51 and the thirty-six decanal stars

48 49 50 51

See Drijvers, The Book of the Laws of Countries, pp. 4–5. See E.A.W. Budge, The Chronography of Gregory Abûʾl Faraj the Son of Aaron &c. (2 vols; London, 1932), vol. i, p. 236. See Drijvers, The Book of the Laws of Countries, pp. 54–55. So S.A. Kaufman, The Akkadian Influences on Aramaic (Chicago, 1974), p. 67; see also

syriac magic and medicine

43

refers to the ancient Mesopotamian tradition of astrolabes or ‘Three Stars Each’ texts.52 Although Bardaiṣan’s immediate source of ancient Akkadian astronomical lore, the Syriac ‘Book of the Chaldaeans’, is no longer extant, Rudolf has provided clear evidence in other sources for the continued transmission of Akkadian astral lore into Syriac, and its subsequent preservation even into the medieval period.53 The process of the transmission of Akkadian astral traditions into Syriac should be contextualised alongside their reception in the two other major literary Aramaic dialects of Mesopotamia, namely Jewish Babylonian Aramaic and Mandaic, with the latter being particularly instructive for our present line of argument. This is already suggested by the use of the same Akkadian term mul lumāšu, which, in addition to being loaned into Syriac as 焏‫ܫ‬熏‫ܡܠ‬, was also loaned into both Jewish Babylonian Aramaic as ‫ מלואשא‬and Mandaic as maluaša.54 Rochberg has demonstrated how the Mandaic astral text Asfar Malwašia, ‘Book of the Signs of the Zodiac’, contains ancient Mesopotamian astral lore that was directly translated into Mandaic from Akkadian.55 In terms of when this process of translation most likely occurred, Müller-Kessler suggested the second century ce because this is when the Mandaeans would have had access to functioning temples in Babylon, Borsippa and Kutha;56 it was these traditional Mesopotamian temples that were the repositories for learned cuneiform texts.57 If the second century ce did indeed witness what could be described

52

53 54

55 56 57

M. Sokoloff, A Syriac Lexicon: A Translation from the Latin, Correction, Expansion, and Update of C. Brockelmann’s Lexicon Syriacum (Winona Lake, 2009), p. 766. Contra MüllerKessler, who suggests a derivation from the theoretical Akkadian *mulmāšu < Sumerian mul.maš; see C. Müller-Kessler, Die Zauberschalentexte in der Hilprecht-Sammlung, Jena, und weitere Nippur-Texte anderer Sammlungen (Wiesbaden, 2005), p. 182. This tradition, which probably emerged in Mesopotamia in the second millennium bce, assigned three stars to each month in an idealised (rather than astronomically correct) 360-day year; see H. Hunger and D. Pingree, Astral Sciences in Mesopotamia (Leiden, 1999), pp. 50–57; W. Horowitz, The Three Stars Each: The Astrolabes and Related Texts (Vienna, 2014), p. 8. See Rudolf, Syrische Astrologie und das Syrische Medizinbuch. See M. Sokoloff, A Dictionary of Jewish Babylonian Aramaic of the Talmudic and Geonic Periods (Ramat-Gan, 2002), p. 677; E.S. Drower and R. Macuch, A Mandaic Dictionary (Oxford, 1963), p. 244. See also the discussion in al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā’, pp. 477–478. F. Rochberg, ‘The Babylonian Origins of the Mandaean Book of the Zodiac’, aram 11–12 (1999–2000), pp. 237–247 (243–245). C. Müller-Kessler, ‘The Mandaeans and the Question of their Origin’, aram 16 (2004), pp. 47–60 (53–54). For the surprisingly late demise of ancient cuneiform scholarship, possibly even into the third century ce, within the scribal schools that were located in the temples of Babylonia,

44

bhayro

as an Akkadian to Aramaic translation movement, which included the transmission of Mesopotamian astral lore from cuneiform Akkadian texts into Aramaic alphabetic texts, then this was probably the context that produced not only the Mandaic ‘Book of the Signs of the Zodiac’ but also the Syriac ‘Book of the Chaldaeans’, through which Bardaiṣan was then able to access ancient Mesopotamian astral lore. Given that this transmission would have happened a couple of generations before Bardaiṣan flourished, this would indeed appear to be the most likely scenario. The reception of Akkadian astral lore into Jewish Aramaic texts certainly began at least two centuries, and probably as many as four centuries, earlier than it occurred with Syriac and Mandaic; this is evident from Dead Sea Scroll texts such as the Enochic ‘Astronomical Book’, which appears to have been written in the third century bce and shows clear Mesopotamian influence.58 It is possible, however, that, in addition to this early reception of cuneiform astral traditions into Jewish Aramaic texts, a later reception, which was contemporary with that posited for Syriac and Mandaic, also occurred with Jewish Babylonian Aramaic. Evidence for this is tangential, but appears to be compelling enough to mention here. Neugebauer discussed how Maimonides’s method of calculating the visibility of the new crescent moon accords with ancient Babylonian lore, adding that further investigation could lead us to conclude that this represents a ‘striking example of the continuity of astronomical tradition’. Neugebauer then discussed how an ancient Babylonian technical method may have found its way into Jewish astronomy, concluding that ‘we must probably assume the existence of intermediate sources, e.g. treatises written in Aramaic. None of them seems to have escaped destruction’.59 Given that, in this case, Neugebauer was discussing a specifically rabbinic tradition, which relates to the computation of the lunar calendar, it is unlikely to relate to the kind of sources attested in the Dead Sea Scrolls, which concern the solar calendar. This would suggest a different transmission trajectory to the early phase, for which the parallel processes in Syriac and Mandaic would present the most likely context.

58

59

see M.J. Geller, ‘The Law Wedge’, Zeitschrift für Assyriologie und Vorderasiatische Archäologie 87 (1997), pp. 43–95. For a detailed discussion, see J. Ben-Dov, Head of All Years: Astronomy and Calendars at Qumran in their Ancient Context (Leiden, 2008). For a convenient summary, see J.C. VanderKam, ‘Hellenistic Astronomy in Early Judaic Writings’, in A.C. Bowen and F. Rochberg (eds), Hellenistic Astronomy: The Science in its Contexts (Leiden, 2020), pp. 529–538 (530–533). O. Neugebauer, ‘The History of Ancient Astronomy: Problems and Methods’, Publications of the Astronomical Society of the Pacific 58 (1946), pp. 17–43 (42–43).

syriac magic and medicine

45

Be that as it may, it appears to be more than likely that Bardaiṣan’s astral scholarship was based on the fruits of concerted efforts that were made in the second century ce (i.e. during his lifetime) to transmit a significant body of knowledge from Akkadian into two, and perhaps all three, of the main literary Aramaic dialects of the Syro-Mesopotamian milieu. Significantly for our present line of argument, these efforts were made in the scribal schools that were located in the historic temples of Babylonia, which places them within the purview of the priests. The reasons for this will be discussed in more detail below. If this was the case for the astral sciences, then it was probably also the case for other scientific and technical corpora, which helps us address the question of which medical system Bardaiṣan was using when he examined the sick Shemashgram. There is no good reason to assume that Bardaiṣan was using anything other than the traditional Mesopotamian medical system, which was the prevailing medical system of his day and region;60 it was considered prestigious, and had been practiced for over two millennia. And, just as with astronomy, we have clear evidence for the transmission of ancient Akkadian medical lore into both Jewish Babylonian Aramaic and Syriac.61 In addition to mastering the arts and sciences of his day, therefore, Bardaiṣan appears to have also been a practising therapist. But can we be sure that he was a member of the clergy? As we have seen, the manner in which Bardaiṣan’s physician’s house call is described suggests that the patient and the visitors should be understood as being clergymen. This would, in turn, lend support to the idea that Bardaiṣan was also a priest, as the narrative presents him as holding a senior and respected position among those gathered in the patient’s home. Furthermore, Bardaiṣan certainly bears all the hallmarks of what we would expect from high-ranking clergy in the Syriac milieu in later periods, especially in respect of his erudition across several fields, theological specula-

60

61

It is unlikely that Bardaiṣan used the Greco-Roman system of medicine, as his knowledge of Greek culture and sources appears to have been limited, to say the least. Thus Burkitt argued that Bardaiṣan had no first-hand knowledge of Greek sources, and such knowledge only appears among his followers. For example, it is Bardaiṣan’s son, Harmonius, who is said to have used Greek music theory. Furthermore, the apparent Stoicism of the ‘Book of the Laws of the Countries’ probably pertains to those who came after him. See Drijvers, Bardaiṣan of Edessa, pp. 9, 43, 76–77, 180. For Jewish Babylonian Aramaic, see M.J. Geller, ‘An Akkadian Vademecum in the Babylonian Talmud’, in S. Kottek, M. Horstmanshoff, G. Baader and G. Ferngren (eds), From Athens to Jerusalem: Medicine in Hellenized Jewish Lore and in Early Christian Literature (Rotterdam, 2000), pp. 13–32; for Syriac, see S. Bhayro, ‘Studying the Syriac Medical Traditions’.

46

bhayro

tions, hymn writing, and especially his later missionary work in Armenia.62 He also left behind a distinctive Christian movement, albeit one considered heterodox by later writers. All of these factors are suggestive of Bardaiṣan’s priestly status.63 But we are left with one major problem when trying to answer the question as to whether Bardaiṣan was a priest, namely, it is not entirely clear precisely what, if anything, being a priest entailed in Bardaiṣan’s day. This problem is particularly acute in the Syro-Mesopotamian milieu, for which our evidence is especially sparse. Even in the west, for which there is more evidence, the earliest evidence we have for ordination as a rite comes from the early third century. Prior to this, the notion of laying on of hands was associated with the sending of missionaries, and the concept of ordination was very much a recognition of a person’s gifts rather than status; indeed, one can safely assume that these were gifts that had been sufficiently demonstrated to warrant recognition by the local community of believers. By the late second century, however, the distinction between clergy and laity had begun to emerge in the west, with a local bishop administering the rite of ordination not so much as a recognition of a person’s gifts, but as a means of conferring gifts upon the candidate.64 The extent to which this had permeated into Bardaiṣan’s milieu is unclear, but is perhaps beside the point; it is likely that Bardaiṣan’s rise to prominence occurred in a more primitive stage in the development of ordination, and that his priestly status was very much on account of his numerous gifts being recognised by the community of believers that gathered around him.

5

Pre-Christian Models of Priestcraft

It would seem, therefore, that Bardaiṣan functioned as both priest (in as much as such a status may have existed for Christians in his milieu) and physician. The location of his activities, moreover, is further instructive. As noted above, 62

63

64

Hence Wright’s quaint statement that Bardaiṣan ‘betook himself as a missionary to the rude mountaineers of Armenia’; see W. Wright, A Short History of Syriac Literature (London, 1894), p. 29. It is also certainly the case that later historians, when giving their biographies of Bardaiṣan, refer to him becoming a deacon after his conversion to Christianity. As Drijvers points out, however, this could simply be an established trope in an ecclesiastical legend; for example, the same is said of Mani—for details, see Drijvers, Bardaiṣan of Edessa, pp. 188–190. E.G. Hinson, ‘Ordination in Christian History’, Review and Expositor 78 (1981), pp. 485–496 (486–487). For the Greek East, the earliest evidence adduced by Hinson is from the fourth century (489).

syriac magic and medicine

47

Bardaiṣan served in the royal court of Abgar the Great, in which he appears to have functioned as a palace wise man. Drijvers thus refers to Bardaiṣan as a ‘gentleman of the court … distinguished by a high social position and doubtlessly by great erudition’.65 Given his mastery of multiple ancient Mesopotamian technical fields, his priestly status, his role in the palace, and his high social status, Bardaiṣan very much resembles, in practical terms, two pre-Christian types of priest, namely the Mesopotamian āšipu and the Iranian magus. Historically, there were two main types of healing professionals in the ancient near east—the asû, commonly understood as a physician or herbalist, and the āšipu, often translated ‘exorcist’ or ‘magician’.66 They were complementary rather than competing therapeutic practitioners, as their skills were originally distinct. In the latter part of the first millennium bce, however, the fortunes of the asû and the āšipu very much diverged. As far as we can tell from official records and tablet colophons, the status of the asû very much declined. This is probably because, in the Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian periods, the asû relied mostly on the patronage of local rulers or functioned as a private entrepreneur. When the Achaemenid Empire reorganised the local power structures in Mesopotamia, however, the traditional institutional support for the asû all but disappeared. The āšipu, on the other hand, was a priest, and continued to receive the institutional support of the temples, which, as we have seen, continued to function in Mesopotamia throughout the Achaemenid and Parthian periods. Furthermore, the āšipu was more flexible than the asû, absorbing and practising a broader range of technical knowledge and crafts. This included the asûtu, that is, the traditional craft of the asû, in addition to astral and other forms of divination.67 The following description by Steinert is particularly instructive, as it also informs the following discussion of the magus:68

65 66

67

68

Drijvers, Bardaiṣan of Edessa, p. 217. See N.P. Heeßel, ‘The Babylonian Physician Rabâ-ša-Marduk: Another Look at Physicians and Exorcists in the Ancient Near East’, in A. Attia and G. Buisson (eds), Advances in Mesopotamian Medicine from Hammurabi to Hippocrates (Leiden, 2009), pp. 13–28; J.A. Scurlock, ‘Physician, Exorcist, Conjurer, Magician: A Tale of Two Healing Professionals’, in T. Abusch and K. van der Toorn (eds), Mesopotamian Magic: Textual, Historical, and Interpretative Perspectives (Groningen, 1999), pp. 69–79. See U. Steinert, ‘Catalogues, Texts and Specialists: Some Thoughts on the Assur Medical Catalogue, Mesopotamian Medical Texts and Healing Professions’, in U. Steinert (ed.), Assyrian and Babylonian Scholarly Text Catalogues: Medicine, Magic and Divination (Berlin, 2018), pp. 158–200 (187–191). Steinert, ‘Catalogues, Texts and Specialists’, p. 191.

48

bhayro

The āšipu mastered a far greater corpus of texts than the asû, and his knowledge and activities were of a wider range and higher order. He focused not only on applying medical treatments and healthcare services for individuals and households, but also attended to the concerns of the king and society at large by mediating (through rituals) between the human and divine world and preserving wellbeing and divine order (cf. the āšipu’s role in rituals for the induction of divine cult statues or in purificatory rituals for the king). Through their vast knowledge and their employment of strategies to boost their social prestige, the āšipus were in a better position to preserve institutional ties and support from local temples throughout the Late Babylonian period, while the asûs seem to have lost these strategic ties (e.g., with the shrines of healing deities), becoming largely invisible in the written records … By the Late Babylonian period, the field of asûtu healing techniques seems largely to have been taken over and carried out by the āšipu as well, although the profession of the asû may have survived for some time, as a craft practiced outside the large institutions. Another distinction between the āšipu and the asû is that the former was more stationary, being attached to his temple or the palace, while the latter could travel to ply his trade. Again, for our purposes, the location of the āšipu priest’s practice in either the temple or the palace is significant.69 This model of priestcraft, in which the āšipu was held in high esteem as a polymath, exorcist and medical practitioner, continued throughout the Achaemenid period and well into the Parthian period. As long as the traditional temples of Mesopotamia continued to operate, and as long as the political elite extended their patronage, the āšipu priest continued to function accordingly, occupying a privileged position in both temple and palace. Judging by the extent to which the Iranian magus resembles the Mesopotamian āšipu, this model of priestcraft appears to have continued in Mesopotamia even under the Sasanians. Boyce accounted for the presence of the magi in Achaemenid Mesopotamia thus, again implicitly locating their activities in both palace and temple:70

69

70

Geller points out that both the asû and the bārû (diviner) have this in common, with neither of them being priests; see M.J. Geller, Ancient Babylonian Medicine: Theory and Practice (Chichester, 2010), pp. 50–51. M. Boyce, A History of Zoroastrianism Volume Two: Under the Achaemenians (Leiden, 1982), p. 66 (see also 33).

syriac magic and medicine

49

Zoroastrian priests must have gone to live there [Babylonia], some to care for the needs of Persian officials and others, some probably simply to study further—for Babylonian lore, especially in the fields of astronomy and astrology, was to contribute largely to the development of Zoroastrian scholasticism by western Iranian priests. Elsewhere, Boyce describes Babylon as ‘one of the great strongholds of the magi’ in the Achaemenid period.71 Indeed, when Babylon surrendered to Alexander the Great in 331bce, it was the magi who took the lead in the great procession, with the Babylonian priests following behind them;72 this probably speaks to both their political and religious status.73 As a member of the professional class of priests, the magus would have been part of the learned scribal elite, often serving in the royal administration at either central or local level.74 In terms of his possible range of activities, the magus was known for practising dream interpretation and other forms of divination,75 performing priestly rituals,76 and serving as an intermediary between the human and divine realms at both the temple and the royal court.77 He would have been considered an expert in cosmology,78 astronomy and astrology (particularly the Babylonian system),79 and, of course, he would have been a practitioner of magic (a major part of the prevailing medical system);80 hence later Christian, and especially Syriac, traditions about the magi being experts in magic, medicine and divination.81 To an outsider, therefore, a magus would have very much resembled an āšipu, as Dandamayev explains in a rather understated way:82 The seeming confusion in the use of the words ‘Magi’ and ‘Chaldeans’ in Greek literature can be explained by the fact that the activities of Babylonian priests and Iranian Magi were similar in some aspects. 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82

M. Boyce and F. Grenet, A History of Zoroastrianism Volume Three: Zoroastrianism under Macedonian and Roman Rule (Leiden, 1991), p. 386. Boyce and Grenet, A History of Zoroastrianism, p. 3. See also the discussion in Geller, Ancient Babylonian Medicine, pp. 126–129. Boyce, A History of Zoroastrianism, pp. 66, 84–85, 278 & 290. Boyce, A History of Zoroastrianism, pp. 67 & 165. Boyce, A History of Zoroastrianism, pp. 70–71, 117–118, 133–137, 184–185 & 228–231. Boyce, A History of Zoroastrianism, pp. 66, 201, 228–231 & 290. Boyce, A History of Zoroastrianism, p. 154. Boyce, A History of Zoroastrianism, pp. 33, 234–235, 240–241 & 260. M.A. Dandamayev, ‘Magi’, in A. Ashraf (ed.), Encyclopaedia Iranica: Online Edition (2012), http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/magi (last accessed 13 January 2021). See Boyce and Grenet, A History of Zoroastrianism, pp. 447–456. Dandamayev, ‘Magi’.

50

bhayro

For several ancient Greek writers, the magi and the Chaldeans were synonymous because of their expertise in the astral sciences.83 For example, the second-century ce historian Appian’s account of the founding of Seleuciaon-the-Tigris (the new Babylon) describes Seleucus consulting the magi of Babylon to determine the most auspicious time to begin his project; from the context, however, it would appear that he was actually consulting Babylonian priests.84 This association of magi with Chaldeans continued in Syriac Christian sources even into the medieval period; Boyce adduces one example from the ‘Cave of Treasures’, in which the magi observe a celestial omen and, together with Chaldean priests, discover its meaning in their books.85

6

Continuity in the Traditional Model of Priestcraft

On a personal level, therefore, Bardaiṣan, as physician-scholar-priest, very much resembles a magus and, in turn, an āšipu. He shares their high social status (both religious and political), their polymath tendencies (particularly in respect of his reception and use of ancient Mesopotamian technical lore), their interest in cosmology and the astral sciences, their practical functions as priest and physician, and the location of their activities in both the palace and temple (in Bardaiṣan’s case, among his community of fellow believers). In other words, Bardaiṣan probably represents a continuity in the model of priestcraft practiced by the āšipu and the magus—something that would have seemed normal to someone of his background, status and education.86 Be that as it may, it would appear that, long after the Akkadian language, and hence the term

83

84 85 86

Boyce and Grenet, A History of Zoroastrianism, p. 368. For astronomers as temple-based priests in Babylonia between 400 bce and 100 ce, see M. Ossendrijver, ‘Hellenistic Astronomy and the Babylonian Scribal Families’, in A.C. Bowen and F. Rochberg (eds), Hellenistic Astronomy: The Science in its Contexts (Leiden, 2020), pp. 426–439 (434–436). Ossendrijver remarks that, in this period, astronomers were ‘perhaps exclusively, employed by the temples’ (434); he also notes that, in Seleucid Uruk, for instance, the astronomers were either a kalû (lamentation priest) or an āšipu, with the latter specialising, in addition to the astral sciences, in ‘omens, rituals for averting their evil, and medicine’ (436). Boyce and Grenet, A History of Zoroastrianism, p. 374. Boyce and Grenet, A History of Zoroastrianism, p. 453. In this respect, the reputation of Bardaiṣan as prolific hymnist is really interesting, as this is something for which the magi were also reputed; see Boyce and Grenet, A History of Zoroastrianism, pp. 539–548. Such perceptions may indeed reflect a reality, that is, that priests of these types did actually write hymns.

syriac magic and medicine

51

āšipu, ceased to be used, the āšipu model of priestcraft continued under other names in other languages, particularly with the magus and then with Christian priests in the Syriac milieu. The traditional Mesopotamian model of priestcraft probably continued well into the third century ce, when the historic Mesopotamian temples finally ceased to function.87 By this time, however, Christianity had become well established as a significant minority faith in Mesopotamia. It stands to reason, therefore, that, as Christianity spread in Mesopotamia, its more erudite adherents would have adapted the prevailing model of priestcraft, that of the āšipu and magus, and put it into practice in a Christian context: monasteries would have replaced the traditional temples, Christian priests would have taken the place of the priests of the old religion, and the complementary roles of medicine and magic would have continued, albeit with some degree of acculturation with respect to the new faith.88 Bodies of knowledge were transmitted, both from Akkadian into Aramaic and from temples to monasteries, which became the new seat of learning and therapeutic practice. And magic and medicine, long-term partners in therapeutic practice, continued their complementary relationship, this time at the hands of Christian priests.89

7

Post-script: The Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Magic Bowls

All of this has clear implications for the magical practices that can be observed for the Jews of Talmudic Babylonia, for which the Jewish Aramaic magic bowls are our main source. Of course, unlike their Christian neighbours, the Baby-

87

88

89

For the persistence of the traditional Mesopotamian temples into at least the third century ce, see M.J. Geller, ‘Tablets and Magic Bowls’, in S. Shaked (ed.), Officina Magica: Essays on the Practice of Magic in Antiquity (Leiden, 2005), pp. 53–72 (53–54); see also al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā’, pp. 474–475, who allows for temple activity persisting even into the fourth century ce. A similar suggestion is made by al-Jeloo, specifically in respect of textual continuity and the ‘Book of Medicines’ text type, but he appears to misunderstand the roles and fortunes of the antecedents, with ‘practitioners, now priests and deacons, replacing the separate roles of the bâru, âshipu and asû’—see al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā’, p. 467. As we have seen, by the second half of the first millennium bce, the āšipu had more or less subsumed the roles of the other two. Despite this, al-Jeloo’s suggestion, although it is tentatively put, has much to commend it. It is possible that the particular origins of the Syriac model of priestcraft are, at least in part, responsible for the distinctive Syriac tradition of Christ and his followers as Physician/physicians; see R. Murray, Symbols of Church and Kingdom: A Study in Early Syriac Tradition (London, 1975), pp. 199–203.

52

bhayro

lonian Jews of Late Antiquity did not have functioning priests, and the rabbis were not magical-medical therapists in the way that the Christian priests were. But this still leaves the scribes, who, as has become clear, were certainly practising magic including writing bowls for clients.90 While there is a clear continuity between the pre-Christian priestly scribes and their temples, on the one hand, and the Christian priestly scribes and their monasteries, on the other, the continuity of ancient practice that we can posit for the Jews of Talmudic Babylonia lies with the scribes and their scribal schools, which, of course, lacks the priestly element.91 In addition to the critical mass of evidence that places the writing of many of the Jewish magic bowls within the purview of the scribes, we also have the ‘Book of Asaph the Physician’, a late-antique Jewish medical textbook whose introduction contains the ‘Enochic’ explanation for the origins of sickness, magic and medicine.92 Interestingly, while the rabbis rejected the various Enoch traditions, there is some evidence that the bowl scribes were more open to them.93 Although the question of the date and provenance of the ‘Book of Asaph the Physician’ remains unresolved, the best work on this text to date is probably that of Muntner, who asserts that it comes from either Palestine or Mesopotamia on the eve of Islam;94 if it was indeed Mesopotamia, that would, of course, be the same context as the magic bowls.

90

91

92

93 94

See, for example, S. Bhayro, ‘Divorcing a Demon: Incantation Bowls and bt Giṭṭin 85b’, in M.J. Geller (ed.), The Archaeology and Material Culture of the Babylonian Talmud (Leiden, 2015), pp. 121–132 (130–131). For the distinction between the differing, and often competing, guilds of the priests, rabbis, judges, and scribes, see C. Hezser, The Social Structure of the Rabbinic Movement in Roman Palestine (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997), pp. 467–489; although this relates to the situation in late antique Palestine, it is likely that the situation in late antique Babylonia was not altogether different in this specific regard. By ‘Enochic’, I mean the exegetical tradition of Gen. 6:1–4, in which the angels descend to take human wives. This tradition occurs in various forms, with that of the book of Jubilees apparently underlying the introduction to the ‘Book of Asaph the Physician’; see V. Nutton, ‘From Noah to Galen: A Medieval Latin History of Medicine’, in I. Csepregi and C. Burnett (eds), Ritual Healing: Magic, Ritual and Medical Therapy from Antiquity until the Early Modern Period (Florence, 2012), pp. 53–69 (64). See also E. Lieber, ‘Asaf’s Book of Medicines: A Hebrew Encyclopedia of Greek and Jewish Medicine, Possibly Compiled in Byzantium on an Indian Model’, Dumbarton Oaks Papers 38 (1984), pp. 233–249, who provides a good summary of prior scholarship on this text. See S. Bhayro, ‘On Early Jewish Literature and the Aramaic Magic Bowls’, Aramaic Studies 13 (2015), pp. 54–68 (54–57). See S. Muntner, Introduction to the Book of Asaph the Physician (‫;מבוא לספר אסף הרופא‬ Jerusalem, 1957); see also Nutton, ‘From Noah to Galen’, p. 61; Lieber, ‘Asaf’s Book of Medicines’, p. 246.

syriac magic and medicine

53

Taken together, all of this very much suggests that both magic and medicine were being carried out by late antique Jewish scribes, which, given the historic Mesopotamian precedent and concurrent practice among late antique Christians, makes perfect sense; indeed, we would not expect anything else. This, in turn, very much suggests that, when considering the praxis of the Jewish Aramaic magic bowls, we should not assume that they functioned alone. It is likely that the bowl was often part of a complementary therapeutic package that could include a more medical component.

Bibliography G.P. Badger, The Nestorians and their Rituals &c. (2 vols; London, 1852). J. Ben-Dov, Head of All Years: Astronomy and Calendars at Qumran in their Ancient Context (Leiden, 2008). S. Bhayro, ‘The Reception of Galen’s Art of Medicine in the Syriac Book of Medicines’, in B. Zipser (ed.), Medical Books in the Byzantine World (Bologna, 2013), pp. 123–144. S. Bhayro, ‘On Early Jewish Literature and the Aramaic Magic Bowls’, Aramaic Studies 13 (2015), pp. 54–68. S. Bhayro, ‘Divorcing a Demon: Incantation Bowls and bt Giṭṭin 85b’, in M.J. Geller (ed.), The Archaeology and Material Culture of the Babylonian Talmud (Leiden, 2015), pp. 121–132. S. Bhayro, ‘Theory and Practice in the Syriac Book of Medicines: The Empirical Basis for the Persistence of Near Eastern Medical Lore’, in J.C. Johnson (ed.), In the Wake of the Compendia: Infrastructural Contexts and the Licensing of Empiricism in Ancient and Medieval Mesopotamia (Berlin, 2015), pp. 147–158. S. Bhayro, ‘Treating the Body and the Soul in Late-Antique and Early-Medieval Syriac Sources: The Syro-Mesopotamian Context of Bardaiṣan and Sergius’, in A. Usacheva, J. Ulrich and S. Bhayro (eds), The Unity of Body and Soul in Patristic and Byzantine Thought (Paderborn, 2021), pp. 213–228. S. Bhayro, ‘Studying the Syriac Medical Traditions: The Mesopotamian and Classical Greek Legacies’, in N. Afif, S. Bhayro, P.E. Pormann, W.I. Sellers and N. Smelova (eds), The Syriac Galen Palimpsest: A New Paradigm for Cross-Disciplinary Research (London, forthcoming). S. Bhayro and S. Rudolf, ‘Budge’s Syriac Book of Medicines after One Hundred Years: Problems and Prospects’, in S.V. Panayatov and L. Vacín (eds), Mesopotamian Medicine and Magic: Studies in Honor of Markham J. Geller, Ancient Magic and Divination 14 (Leiden: Brill, 2018), pp. 116–130. M. Boyce, A History of Zoroastrianism Volume Two: Under the Achaemenians (Leiden, 1982).

54

bhayro

M. Boyce and F. Grenet, A History of Zoroastrianism Volume Three: Zoroastrianism under Macedonian and Roman Rule (Leiden, 1991). S.P. Brock, A Brief Outline of Syriac Literature (Baker Hill, 1997). S.P. Brock, ‘Bardaiṣan (154–222)’, in S.P. Brock, A.M. Butts, G.A. Kiraz and L. Van Rompay (eds), Gorgias Encyclopedic Dictionary of the Syriac Heritage: Electronic Edition (2018), https://gedsh.bethmardutho.org/Bardaisan (last accessed 13 January 2021). C. Brockelmann, History of the Arabic Written Tradition Volume 1, translated by J. Lameer (Leiden, 2016). E.A.W. Budge, The Syriac Book of Medicines. Syrian Anatomy, Pathology and Therapeutics in the Early Middle Ages &c. (2 vols; London, 1913). E.A.W. Budge, The Chronography of Gregory Abûʾl Faraj the Son of Aaron &c. (2 vols; London, 1932). P.A. Clark, A Cretan Healer’s Handbook in the Byzantine Tradition: Text, Translation and Commentary (Farnham, 2011). M.A. Dandamayev, ‘Magi’, in A. Ashraf (ed.), Encyclopaedia Iranica: Online Edition (2012), http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/magi (last accessed 13 January 2021). H.J.W. Drijvers, The Book of the Laws of Countries (Assen, 1965). H.J.W. Drijvers, Bardaiṣan of Edessa (Assen, 1966). E.S. Drower and R. Macuch, A Mandaic Dictionary (Oxford, 1963). M.J. Geller, ‘The Law Wedge’, Zeitschrift für Assyriologie und Vorderasiatische Archäologie 87 (1997), pp. 43–95. M.J. Geller, ‘An Akkadian Vademecum in the Babylonian Talmud’, in S. Kottek, M. Horstmanshoff, G. Baader and G. Ferngren (eds), From Athens to Jerusalem: Medicine in Hellenized Jewish Lore and in Early Christian Literature (Rotterdam, 2000), pp. 13–32. M.J. Geller, ‘Tablets and Magic Bowls’, in S. Shaked (ed.), Officina Magica: Essays on the Practice of Magic in Antiquity (Leiden, 2005), pp. 53–72. M.J. Geller, Ancient Babylonian Medicine: Theory and Practice (Chichester, 2010). H. Gollancz, The Book of Protection &c. (London, 1912). N.P. Heeßel, ‘The Babylonian Physician Rabâ-ša-Marduk: Another Look at Physicians and Exorcists in the Ancient Near East’, in A. Attia and G. Buisson (eds), Advances in Mesopotamian Medicine from Hammurabi to Hippocrates (Leiden, 2009), pp. 13–28. C. Hezser, The Social Structure of the Rabbinic Movement in Roman Palestine (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997). E.G. Hinson, ‘Ordination in Christian History’, Review and Expositor 78 (1981), pp. 485– 496. W. Horowitz, The Three Stars Each: The Astrolabes and Related Texts (Vienna, 2014). H. Hunger and D. Pingree, Astral Sciences in Mesopotamia (Leiden, 1999). H.D. Isaacs, ‘Arabic Medical Literature’, in M.J.L. Young, J.D. Latham and R.B. Serjeant (eds), Religion, Learning and Science in the ʿAbbasid Period (Cambridge, 1990), pp. 342–363.

syriac magic and medicine

55

N. al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldāyūthā: The Spar-Sammāné and Late Antique Syriac Astrology’, aram 24 (2012), pp. 457–492. S.A. Kaufman, The Akkadian Influences on Aramaic (Chicago, 1974). L. Lehmhaus and M. Martelli, ‘Introduction’, in L. Lehmhaus and M. Martelli (eds), Collecting Recipes: Byzantine and Jewish Pharmacology in Dialogue (Berlin, 2017), pp. 1–27. E. Lieber, ‘Asaf’s Book of Medicines: A Hebrew Encyclopedia of Greek and Jewish Medicine, Possibly Compiled in Byzantium on an Indian Model’, Dumbarton Oaks Papers 38 (1984), pp. 233–249. M. Moriggi, ‘“And the Impure and Abominable Priests Fled for Help to the Names of the Devils”: Amulets and Magical Practices in Syriac Christian Culture between Late Antiquity and the Modern World’, Hugoye: Journal of Syriac Studies 19 (2016), pp. 371– 384. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘The Mandaeans and the Question of their Origin’, aram 16 (2004), pp. 47–60. C. Müller-Kessler, Die Zauberschalentexte in der Hilprecht-Sammlung, Jena, und weitere Nippur-Texte anderer Sammlungen (Wiesbaden, 2005). S. Muntner, Introduction to the Book of Asaph the Physician (‫ ;מבוא לספר אסף הרופא‬Jerusalem, 1957). R. Murray, Symbols of Church and Kingdom: A Study in Early Syriac Tradition (London, 1975). O. Neugebauer, ‘The History of Ancient Astronomy: Problems and Methods’, Publications of the Astronomical Society of the Pacific 58 (1946), pp. 17–43. V. Nutton, ‘From Noah to Galen: A Medieval Latin History of Medicine’, in I. Csepregi and C. Burnett (eds), Ritual Healing: Magic, Ritual and Medical Therapy from Antiquity until the Early Modern Period (Florence, 2012), pp. 53–69. M. Ossendrijver, ‘Hellenistic Astronomy and the Babylonian Scribal Families’, in A.C. Bowen and F. Rochberg (eds), Hellenistic Astronomy: The Science in its Contexts (Leiden, 2020), pp. 426–439. F. Rochberg, ‘The Babylonian Origins of the Mandaean Book of the Zodiac’, aram 11–12 (1999–2000), pp. 237–247. S. Rudolf, Syrische Astrologie und das Syrische Medizinbuch (Berlin, 2018). G. Saliba, ‘Al-Bīrūnī and the Sciences of his Time’, in M.J.L. Young, J.D. Latham and R.B. Serjeant (eds), Religion, Learning and Science in the ʿAbbasid Period (Cambridge, 1990), pp. 405–423. O. Sarau, Catalogue of Syriac Manuscripts in the Library of the Museum Association of Oroomiah College (Urmia, 1898). E. Savage-Smith, S. Swain and G.J. van Gelder (eds and trans), A Literary History of Medicine. The ʿUyūn al-anbāʾ fī ṭabaqāt al-aṭibbāʾ of Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah (3 vols; Leiden: 2020).

56

bhayro

J.A. Scurlock, ‘Physician, Exorcist, Conjurer, Magician: A Tale of Two Healing Professionals’, in T. Abusch and K. van der Toorn (eds), Mesopotamian Magic: Textual, Historical, and Interpretative Perspectives (Groningen, 1999), pp. 69–79. M. Sokoloff, A Dictionary of Jewish Babylonian Aramaic of the Talmudic and Geonic Periods (Ramat-Gan, 2002). M. Sokoloff, A Syriac Lexicon: A Translation from the Latin, Correction, Expansion, and Update of C. Brockelmann’s Lexicon Syriacum (Winona Lake, 2009). U. Steinert, ‘Catalogues, Texts and Specialists: Some Thoughts on the Assur Medical Catalogue, Mesopotamian Medical Texts and Healing Professions’, in U. Steinert (ed.), Assyrian and Babylonian Scholarly Text Catalogues: Medicine, Magic and Divination (Berlin, 2018), pp. 158–200. H. Takahashi, Aristotelian Meteorology in Syriac: Barhebraeus, Butyrum Sapientiae, Books of Mineralogy and Meteorology (Leiden, 2004). H. Teule, ‘The Syriac Renaissance’, in H. Teule and C.F. Tauwinkl, with B. ter Haar Romeny and J. van Ginkel (eds), The Syriac Renaissance (Leuven, 2010), pp. 1–30. J.C. VanderKam, ‘Hellenistic Astronomy in Early Judaic Writings’, in A.C. Bowen and F. Rochberg (eds), Hellenistic Astronomy: The Science in its Contexts (Leiden, 2020), pp. 529–538. G. Veltri, ‘The Magician/Magush in Rabbinic Judaism’, in G. Veltri, A Mirror of Rabbinic Hermeneutics: Studies in Religion, Magic, and Language Theory in Ancient Judaism (Berlin, 2015), pp. 159–172. W. Wright, A Short History of Syriac Literature (London, 1894).

chapter 4

Syriac Incantation Bowls and the Mesopotamian Context: A Glimpse into Christian-Jewish Cultural Interactions Marco Moriggi

1

Syriac Incantation Bowls 2014–2020

When considering the whole corpus of Syriac texts included under the label ‘magic texts’, two groups of textual sources may be singled out: texts written on the nowadays well-known Mesopotamian incantation bowls, and texts written or incised on a variety of objects that are described as ‘amulets’, ‘talismans’, or ‘phylacteries’ in the scholarly literature.1 Mesopotamian incantation bowls with Syriac texts, in both Estrangela and Manichaean scripts, have been studied and commented upon since research on this peculiar kind of artefact began, i.e. from the middle of the 19th century.2 The present situation with regard to Syriac incantation bowls may be summarised as follows. There are sixty-three published Syriac bowls.3 Forty-nine 1 On the category of ‘magic’ and related subjects, chiefly the way an object is included in/excluded from the domain of ‘magic’ artefacts, see D. Frankfurter, ‘Ancient Magic in a New Key: Refining an Exotic Discipline in the History of Religions’, in Idem (ed.), Guide to the Study of Ancient Magic (Leiden and Boston, 2019), pp. 3–20 (13–14); G. Veltri, A Mirror of Rabbinic Hermeneutics: Studies in Religion, Magic, and Language Theory in Ancient Judaism (Berlin and Boston, 2015), p. 125; see also the Introduction to the present volume. 2 On the history of the study of the Syriac bowls, their language and scripts, see M. Moriggi, A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls: Syriac Magical Texts from Late-Antique Mesopotamia (Leiden and Boston, 2014), pp. 1–3, 11–19. As regards Mesopotamian incantation bowls in general, including texts—apart from the Syriac ones—in Jewish Babylonian Aramaic, Mandaic, Pahlavi, and various pseudo-scripts, see now G. Bohak, ‘Jewish Amulets, Magic Bowls, and Manuals in Aramaic and Hebrew’, in Frankfurter (ed.), Guide, pp. 388–415 (394–400); S. Shaked, J.N. Ford, S. Bhayro, Aramaic Bowl Spells: Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Bowls Volume One (Leiden and Boston, 2013), pp. 1–27. Pseudo-scripts on incantation bowls are the subject of a thorough study by D.J. Waller, ‘Curious Characters, Invented Scripts, and … Charlatans? “Pseudo-Scripts” in the Mesopotamian Magic Bowls’, Journal of Near Eastern Studies 78 (2019), pp. 119–139. Incantation bowls may be included in the category of ‘lettered amulets’ as discussed by R. Kotansky, ‘Textual Amulets and Writing Traditions in the Ancient World’, in Frankfurter (ed.), Guide, p. 509. 3 Last updated 30th September, 2020. Pace M. Dickens, ‘Syriac Christianity in Central Asia’, in D. King (ed.), The Syriac World (London, 2019), p. 588, the quotation of Ishtar and Lilith

© Marco Moriggi, 2022 | doi:10.1163/978900446720

58

moriggi

were published in the present author’s 2014 monograph.4 Since then, of the remaining fourteen: – one was re-edited in the recently-published Berlin catalogue, having initially been published by Lidzbarski;5 – four have been re-edited by Ford, having initially been published by Shaked;6 – one was published by Abousamra;7 – two were published in the Berlin catalogue;8 – and six were published by Ford and Abudraham.9 There are currently one hundred and two unpublished Syriac bowls known to the present author, of which eighty are being published by Ford.10 Of the remaining twenty-two:

4

5

6

7

8 9

10

in an undated Syriac jar from Uzbekistan does not necessarily imply that it is an incantation bowl. See also P. Gignoux, ‘Une nouvelle jarre inscrite en syriaque d’Asie Centrale’, in La Persia e l’Asia Centrale da Alessandro al x secolo (Atti dei Convegni Lincei 127; Roma, 1996), pp. 39–48; Moriggi, A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls, p. 3, where this and other two analogous specimens are quoted. For further information, including locations, see Moriggi, A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls, p. xi. Note that nos. 17 (= hs 3018); 36 (= hs 3062); 37 (= hs 3066); 38 (= hs 3039); 39 (= hs 3053); 40 (= hs 3056) were subsequently reedited in J.N. Ford, M. Morgenstern, Aramaic Incantation Bowls in Museum Collections: 1. The Hilprecht Collection (Leiden and Boston, 2020), pp. 157–163, 184–186, 187–188, 164–172, 173–176, 177–183. Note also that no. 46 (= va.Bab.4167i) was subsequently reedited in S. Bhayro, J.N. Ford, D. Levene, O. PazSaar, Aramaic Magic Bowls in the Vorderasiatisches Museum in Berlin: Descriptive List and Edition of Selected Texts (Leiden and Boston, 2018), pp. 60–61. In addition to what was reported in Bhayro, Ford, Levene, Paz-Saar, Aramaic Magic Bowls, p. 153, bowl va.Bab.2813 + va.Bab.2814 (= no. 45 in Moriggi, A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls, pp. 194–195) was provisionally edited in C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Syrische Zauberschalen—Korrekturen und Nachträge’, Die Welt des Orients 36 (2006), pp. 116–130 (128–129). va.3383 (Vorderasiatisches Museum, Berlin); see M. Lidzbarski, ‘Die Herkunft der manichäischen Schrift’, Sitzungsberichte der königlich-preussischen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin 50 (1916), pp. 1213–1222; Bhayro, Ford, Levene, Paz-Saar, Aramaic Magic Bowls, pp. 54–56 (with contribution by M. Moriggi). ms 1928/54; ms 2055/16; ms 2055/24; ms 2055/25 (Schøyen Collection, Oslo and London); see S. Shaked, ‘Manichaean Incantation Bowls in Syriac’, Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 24 (2000), pp. 58–92; to be re-edited in J.N. Ford, Aramaic Bowl Spells: Syriac Bowls (Leiden and Boston, in preparation). mau.2464 (Musée Archéologique Université Saint-Esprit de Kaslik); see G. Abousamra, ‘A New Manichaean Incantation Bowl’, in C. Horn, S. Griffith (eds), Biblical and Qurʾanic Traditions in the Middle East (Warwick, ri, 2016), pp. 239–250. va.Bab.2765; va.Bab.2792 (Vorderasiatisches Museum, Berlin); see Bhayro, Ford, Levene, Paz-Saar, Aramaic Magic Bowls, pp. 57–59, 62–64. T27983; T27984; T27986; T27989; T27993; T27996 (Israel Antiquities Authority, Jerusalem); see J.N. Ford, O. Abudraham, ‘Syriac and Mandaic Incantation Bowls’, in D. Regev, H. Hizmi (eds), Finds Gone Astray: adca Confiscated Items (Jerusalem, 2018), pp. 75–111 (75–99). This comprises thirty from the Schøyen Collection, six from the Wolfe Collection, two from the Davidowitz Collection, and a further forty-two from other private collections.

syriac incantation bowls and the mesopotamian context

59

– – – – – – – –

five are in the Moussaieff Collection (Herzlia and London);11 four are in the Vorderasiatisches Museum (Berlin);12 one is in the Museum für Islamische Kunst (Berlin);13 one is in the British Museum (London);14 one is in the Museum of Antiquities (Istanbul);15 one is in the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery;16 two are in the Iraq Museum (Baghdad);17 one is in the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology (Philadelphia);18 – two are in the Librairie Michel Bouvier (Paris);19 – one is in a private collection in Jerusalem;20 the locations of the final three are currently unknown.21

11 12 13 14

15

16 17 18 19 20

21

To be published by Ford and Morgenstern. va.2105; va.2491; va.Bab.2787; va.Bab.2835; to be published by the same team that published the Berlin catalogue. KtW 295 [ostracon]; to be published by Ford and Joisten-Pruschke. bm 117877 [ostracon]; to be published by the present author; see C.B.F. Walker, ‘Table of Registration Numbers and Provenances’, in J.B. Segal, Catalogue of the Aramaic and Mandaic Incantation Bowls in the British Museum (London, 2000), pp. 35–39 (39). See under the caption ‘Syriac and imitation Syriac bowls’, in C.H. Gordon, ‘Aramaic Magical Bowls in the Istanbul and Baghdad Museums’, Archiv Orientální 6 (1934), pp. 319– 334 (321): ‘one uncatalogued: illegible incantation, broken into 6 pieces, d. 15,5 × h. 6,5’. K 2312 (from Kish); see C.H. Gordon, ‘Aramaic Incantation Bowls’, Orientalia 10 (1941), pp. 116–141, 272–284, 339–360 (280): ‘partly obliterated Syriac charm of about fifteen lines’. im 12080; im 28028; the two bowls are reported as being ‘illegible’ in J. Teixidor, ‘The Syriac Incantation Bowls in the Iraq Museum’, Sumer 18 (1962), pp. 51–62 (61). cbs 16062 + frag. cbs 6354; see Müller-Kessler, ‘Syrische Zauberschalen’, p. 127. To be published by Gorea. To be published by Gorea; for this and the two preceding bowls, see M. Gorea, ‘Coupes magiques syriaques et manichéennes en provenance de Mésopotamie’, in F. Briquel Chatonnet, M. Debié, A. Desreumaux (eds), Les inscriptions syriaques (Paris, 2004), pp. 107–116 (108). One, to be published by the present author, was Lot no. 348 in Christie’s Antiquities ‘Hera’ Auction (10th–11th July, 1974)—see Christie’s, Europaean, Classical, Byzantine, Western Asiatic and Egyptian Antiquities and Ancient Jewellery: Catalogue Antiquities ii (London, 1973), p. 58, pl. 18. For the other two, which will be published by Müller-Kessler, see C. MüllerKessler, ‘Zauberschalen und ihre Umwelt: Ein Überblick über das Schreibmedium Zauberschale’, in J. Kamlah, R. Schäfer, M. Witte (eds), Zauber und Magie im antiken Palästina und in seiner Umwelt: Kolloquium des Deutschen Vereins zur Erforschung Palästinas vom 14. bis 16. November 2014 in Mainz (Wiesbaden, 2017), pp. 59–71 (60). One was Lot no. 369 in Hirsch Auktion 222; see G. Hirsch, Antiken—Präkolumbische Kunst: Auktion 222 am 24. und 25. September 2002 (München, 2002).

60 2

moriggi

Late-Antique Mesopotamian Magic: Incantation Bowls

It is well known that it is by no means as easy task to conduct research on ancient societies, especially as our evidence is often fragmentary and but a poor reflection of the entire picture. There are some notable exceptions to this general situation, but, even in these few cases, the puzzle still lacks many pieces. Regarding textual sources, the situation is often worse than that found, for instance, in the field of archaeology. For some ancient societies, we have only canonical texts which were conceived in order to project a precise, often idealised, picture of the society they originate from. At the same time, these texts were intended to hide specific social, political and religious elements that were considered not to accord with this picture, or that may have compromised the strength of the elite. It was this elite, in turn, that wanted to create and promote the picture painted by the canonical books.22 It is of course possible that ancient sites yield texts which were not official or at least did not fall into the category of the canonical, and, as such, have escaped the control of the dominant group and thus avoided mutation in language and content or, at worst, destruction. This is the case with what we usually label as ‘magic’ texts, including those specifically dealt with in this paper, incantation bowl texts. Incantation bowl texts, in this respect, have some characteristics that may contribute to our understanding of how different social and religious groups interacted in Late Antiquity. First, they were used, according to the data at our disposal, in central and lower Mesopotamia between the fourth and the eighth centuries ad, which is comparatively well-defined in terms of both geography and chronology.23 Second, this specific context witnessed one of the most intriguing cultural melting pots of Late Antiquity, in which Judaism, Christianity, Manichaeism, Zoroastrianism, ancient Mesopotamian cults and Gnostic sects—among them the Mandaeans—lived side-by-side. Even if this

22

23

The usual labels found in scholarly literature, such as ‘Christian’, ‘Jewish’, ‘pagan’, and the like are often built upon the point of view of these canonical texts and may be easily considered as ‘artificial’. See K. Eshleman, Review of: É. Rebillard, J. Rüpke (eds), Group Identity and Religious Individuality in Late Antiquity (Washington D.C., 2015), http://bmcr​ .brynmawr.edu/2016/2016‑05‑35.html (last visit 28.11.2020). For the archaeological contexts where incantation bowls were discovered, see R. Venco Ricciardi, ‘Trial Trench at Tell Baruda’, Mesopotamia 8–9 (1973–1974), pp. 15–20; M. Gawlikowski, ‘Bijan in the Euphrates’, Sumer 42 (1985), pp. 15–21. Regarding chronology, see S. Shaked, J.N. Ford, S. Bhayro, Aramaic Bowl Spells: Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Bowls Volume One (Leiden and Boston, 2013), p. 1.

syriac incantation bowls and the mesopotamian context

61

in itself is not a sufficient condition for interaction from a cultural point of view, it appears that all of these groups were, to varying extents, involved in the practice of making and using incantation bowls. Third, as Shaked states, the bowls are marked by an ‘intensively private character. Not only do they deal with private affairs, sometimes even with intimate problems, and never refer to communal concerns, they are also private in the sense that each artifact containing an inscription is normally prepared for a specific individual or for members of a small household, with the person’s name inscribed on it’.24 This ‘private character’ provides us with a key to the realm of micro-history— everyday life in these ancient communities—where the canonising processes and authoritative textual decisions were less effective and, in any case, could not completely control the phenomenon of inscribing and using incantation bowls.25 In this context, attention must be paid to what the people of the time thought about the texts on the incantation bowls. As Levene notes: … it must be realized that those who composed, produced and consumed the type of magical incantations in late antiquity that we find in magic bowls, would not have considered the issue in quite the same way as we have done over the past two centuries. In fact, it is quite clear from a number of sources that prayer and magical incantation are the products of the same cultural environment. Furthermore, there is nothing to suggest that those who used prayer and magical incantation were different groups of people. Although distinct in both form, function and context, the evidence indicates that both magical incantation and forms of prayer were not necessarily thought of as contradictory or even totally exclusive of each other.26

24

25

26

S. Shaked, ‘Jews, Christians and Pagans in the Aramaic Incantation Bowls of the Sasanian Period’, in A. Destro, M. Pesce (eds), Religions and Cultures: First International Conference of Mediterraneum (Binghamton, 2002), pp. 61–89 (63). The advantages of dealing with micro-history when investigating the relationships between cultures, e.g. in the case of Jewish and Greek cultures, are discussed in depth in Veltri, A Mirror, pp. 100–110 passim. D. Levene, ‘Jewish Liturgy and Magic Bowls’, in C.T.R. Hayward, B. Embry (eds), Studies in Jewish Prayer (Oxford, 2005), pp. 163–184 (165). On this topic in relation specifically to Syriac magic, see M. Moriggi, ‘ “And the impure and abominable priests fled for help to the names of the devils”. Amulets and magical practices in Syriac Christian culture between Late Antiquity and the modern world’, Hugoye: Journal of Syriac Studies 19 (2016), pp. 371– 384; see also the contribution to the present volume by S. Bhayro.

62

moriggi

It should also be noted that, because of the temporal and geographical remoteness of the context in which the bowls were produced, it is difficult to discern the extent to which members of one community were aware of their distinctiveness in relation to the other communities. Notwithstanding the physical form of the bowls, which are usually described as ordinary pottery of common shape as was in everyday use in Sasanian Mesopotamia, it must be borne in mind that, for the people who used them, ‘les documents eux-mêmes, avec tout ce qui’ils contiennent et ce qui les caractérise (écriture, dessins, forme, matière, dimensions, etc.) sont magiques’.27 Before moving on to discuss how the bowls inform Jewish-Christian relations specifically, we should first consider briefly the well-known topic of syncretism in incantation bowl texts. In his analysis of syncretism in the incantation bowls, Harviainen concluded that ‘syncretism did not imply independence of religion; it was solely an additional instrument with which people tried to strengthen the protection system provided by their native religion’.28 It is rather difficult, therefore, to distinguish religious elements pertaining to a particular faith in a syncretistic framework like the one mirrored in the bowl texts.29 When dealing with these magical objects, we may still consider the problem in light of Gordon’s statement that: … there is no way of sharply distinguishing in detail Jewish from Christian from Mandaean magic. Magic is highly interconfessional. Clients go to a magician not because he belongs to the same denomination but because they have confidence in his professional skill. An element attributed to Rabbi Joshua son of Peraḥia, is obviously Jewish. A reference to Jesus the Messiah, is obviously Christian. Invoking ‘the knowledge of light’, is obviously Mandaean. But one cannot state that a given incantation belongs 27

28 29

F. Ruani, ‘Formations et origines des nomina barbara dans les objets magiques syriaques des ve–viie siècles’, in M. Tardieu, A. Van den Kerchove, M. Zago (eds), Noms barbares i: Formes et contextes d’ une pratique magique (Turnhout, 2013), pp. 301–314 (304). T. Harviainen, ‘Syncretistic and Confessional Features in Mesopotamian Incantation Bowls’, in Studia Orientalia 70 (Helsinki, 1993), pp. 29–37 (37). For the analogous problem of singling out Jewish elements in Greek amulets, see G. Lacerenza, ‘Jewish Magicians and Christian Clients in Late Antiquity: The Testimony of Amulets and Inscriptions’, in L.V. Rutgers (ed), What Athens Has to Do with Jerusalem: Essays on Classical, Jewish, and Early Christian Art and Archaeology in Honor of Gideon Foerster (Leuven, 2002), pp. 393–419 (405). See also the suggested meanings of the terms ‘plurality’ and ‘fusion’, with reference to magic texts in a multicultural environment, in L.M. Bortolani, S. Nagel, ‘Introduction’, in Eaedem, W.F. Furley, J.F. Quack (eds), Cultural Plurality in Ancient Magical Texts and Practices: Graeco-Egyptian Handbooks and Related Traditions (Tübingen, 2019), pp. 1–23 (3).

syriac incantation bowls and the mesopotamian context

63

entirely to one religion. For this very reason the classification has, in practice, rested mainly on the script employed. Aramaic letters are called Jewish; Syriac letters, Christian; Mandaean letters, Mandaean. As for the rest, we have to evaluate each element point by point.30 Thus the distinctions that are commonly drawn on the basis of script (square script means a Jewish text, Syriac scripts—Esṭrangela and Manichaean—mean a Christian text, Mandaic script means a Mandaic text) may no longer be valid, and certainly not as a tool to distinguish corpora of texts. In my opinion, the crux of the issue is not the distinction between communities, but the process through which these groups shared cultural features. The cultural syncretism that is apparent in these texts is nothing but a result of this interaction. This approach may demonstrate its usefulness if one looks more closely at the Syriac bowl texts with reference to the Christian and Jewish cultures of Sasanian Babylonia.

3

Syriac Incantation Bowls and Jewish Culture in Sasanian Babylonia

Incantation bowls in Syriac comprise a small minority of those known to exist, which number over two thousand. As discussed above, there are sixty-three Syriac bowls that were published between 1853 and 2020, and a further one hundred and two are known to exist in museums and private collections.31 A unique feature of these bowls is that they employ two scripts, Esṭrangela and Manichaean, to write a single language: Syriac.32 Even though they are comparatively few in number, the Syriac bowls provide a rich inventory of texts and motifs, some of which have already been identified as being derived from Jewish traditions, in particular the ‘divorce-formula’ (geṭ) to exorcise demons and illnesses.33 Van Rompay suggested that the Syriac bowls should be regarded as ‘a part of Syriac literature’.34 Given this, one may wonder whether the search for for30 31 32 33 34

C.H. Gordon to J. Neusner, letter, November 7th 1968, in J. Neusner, A History of the Jewish in Babylonia: v. Later Sasanian Times (Leiden, 1970), p. 217. See section I above. The scripts of most of the published bowls have been fully analysed and described in Moriggi, A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls, pp. 11–19. M. Moriggi, ‘Jewish Divorce Formulae in Syriac Incantation Bowls’, Aramaic Studies 13 (2015), pp. 82–94. L. Van Rompay, ‘Some Remarks on the Language of Syriac Incantation Texts’, in R. Lavenant (ed.), v Symposium Syriacum 1988 (Rome, 1990), pp. 369–381 (381).

64

moriggi

mulae like the ‘divorce-formula’ in Syriac bowls may be included (at least from the point of view of methodology) in the framework of the study of Jewish elements in Syriac literature. Furthermore, one may consider whether the transmission of traditions between the two cultures was mutual, with Syriac Christian elements occurring in Jewish bowls. We encounter two problems when exploring these questions. First, do we have Syriac bowls that we can label indisputably as ‘Christian’? And, second, what can we deduce about interactions between Judaism and Syriac Christianity in Sasanian Babylonia if the multifaceted nature of the texts blurs the confessional lines? If we approach the subject of interaction between Judaism and Syriac Christianity in Syriac bowl texts from the point of view of Syriac studies, it makes sense to begin with the existing body of research on Jewish tradition in Syriac sources. According to Brock, this may be fruitfully conducted in at least … four main areas of Syriac literature: (1) incorporated into the actual Syriac translations of Old Testament books, most obviously in the Pentateuch and Chronicles; (2) targumic traditions known to early Syriac writers but absent from the extant Peshitta text of the Bible; (3) apocrypha and pseudepigrapha of Jewish origin […]; (4) certain types of Syriac literature, notably of course commentaries, but also poetry, chronicles, and Old Testament “hagiography”.35 To this, we may now add incantation bowls and related texts as a fifth area. Although it is outside the realm of high literature, it is nevertheless an everyday practical theurgic Syriac literature. The methodology used by Brock is also useful with the bowl texts in as much as it focusses on linguistic phenomena and the borrowing and transformation of specific themes from Judaism into Syriac Christianity. The bowl texts, however, do not testify to an exact borrowing in one direction. It is indeed the case that Syriac bowls show Jewish elements in their texts, such as the aforementioned ‘divorce-formula’, although such elements are often subject to a degree of acculturation.36 It is also the case, however, that Jewish texts show Syriac (Christian) elements. For example, there are Jew-

35

36

S.P. Brock, ‘Jewish Traditions in Syriac Sources’, Journal of Jewish Studies 30 (1979), pp. 212– 232 (212). On cultural interaction between Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity in general, see the references provided in Lacerenza, ‘Jewish Magicians and Christian Clients’, p. 394 (n. 1). See Moriggi, ‘Jewish Divorce Formulae’, pp. 83 (n. 1), 85–86.

syriac incantation bowls and the mesopotamian context

65

ish Babylonian Aramaic bowls that contain expressions such as ‘in the name of Jesus who suppressed the height and the depth by his cross, and in the name of his Exalted Father, and in the name of his Holy Spirit, forever and ever’,37 or ‘Jesus the Physician, guard this your handmaid from every evil forever’, or ‘Jesus the Physician, guard these your servants from every evil’.38 We thus have a bilateral relationship (or, better, a multilateral one, if we also take into consideration the Mandaic bowls) between Syriac and Jewish texts in this respect, which accords with Bohak’s rejection of the ‘pan-Judaic perspective’ on the origin of magical themes in non-Jewish magical texts.39 Given all of this, one may legitimately ask whether it is possible to find Syriac bowls that can unequivocally be attributed to a Christian cultural milieu. In this respect some attempts have been made, and a grouping of Syriac bowls that ‘seem to be Christian […]. Judging by the presence of Christian formulae, Jewish themes or cross symbols’ was proposed some years ago.40 Again, I think that pinpointing single elements in a text is not sufficient a basis on which to reconstruct the interactions that led to its production. In many cases, we cannot be sure that a text was written or used by a Christian, but, at the same time, we cannot exclude Christians from being the practitioners or clients.41 We cannot deduce from the Syriac bowl texts, therefore, a sharp confrontation between well-defined, canonised, cultural features that pertain to one cultural milieu or another. Rather it is the reflex of an ongoing process of interaction in which many cultural features are brought together in order to provide

37 38

39

40 41

M 163:29 (Moussaieff Collection), published in D. Levene, A Corpus of Magic Bowls: Incantation Texts in Jewish Aramaic from Late Antiquity (London and New York, 2009), p. 127. Wolfe 15:5 (Wolfe Collection) and jnf 138:14 (anonymous private collection). I am grateful to James Nathan Ford for his permission to quote from these two unpublished Jewish Babylonian Aramaic bowls that he is preparing for publication. G. Bohak, ‘Hebrew, Hebrew Everywhere? Notes on the Interpretation of Voces Magicae’, in S.B. Noegel, J.T. Walker, B.M. Wheeler (eds), Prayer, Magic, and the Stars in the Ancient and Late Antique World (University Park, PA, 2003), pp. 69–82. Shaked, ‘Manichaean Incantation Bowls’, p. 63 (n. 23). Thus Harviainen stated that ‘the Syriac bowl texts also lack references to Christianity, Judaism or Zoroastrian religion. This dual evidence provides significant concrete support for the hypothesis of a pagan origin for the Syriac bowl texts’; see T. Harviainen, ‘Pagan Incantations in Aramaic Magic Bowls’, in M.J. Geller, J.C. Greenfield, M.P. Weitzman (eds), Studia Aramaica: New Sources and New Approaches (Oxford, 1995), pp. 53–60 (58; Harviainen’s emphasis). One may recall here, following Lacerenza, ‘the so-called “Hebraikos Logos” of pgm iv: 3009–3085 (l. 3019)—a text rich in Jewish materials, even though it also mentions the name of Jesus, and was probably assembled by pagan hands’; see Lacerenza, ‘Jewish Magicians and Christian Clients’, p. 405.

66

moriggi

the text with as many defenses as possible against evil, misfortune and illness.42 The best way to discern the circumstances in which such features were used is to consider, whenever possible, the manner of their use in the text. This will always involve some degree of adaptation and transformation of the original feature in its new context (e.g. the Jewish divorce-formula in a Syriac text). The degree of adaptation and transformation may vary, but it always involves, to a greater or lesser extent, the language(s) of the texts. Furthermore language is the tool of performative statements, which are an important feature of incantation texts.43 Investigating linguistic variation in the context of the transmission of a feature from one text to another may help to explain the processes of cultural interaction that are found in Syriac bowls and beyond.44

4

Jewish Themes in Syriac Incantation Bowls

In my analysis of the use of the Jewish divorce-formula (geṭ) in Syriac incantation bowls, therefore, I stressed the importance of focusing on textual variation in order to properly investigate the absorption of this theme into Syriac bowl texts, and made the following conclusions:45 a) of all the types of divorce-formula attested in Jewish Babylonian Aramaic bowls, only one was adopted for use in Syriac bowls;46 b) single passages of the Syriac text were translated from Jewish Babylonian Aramaic and Hebrew; 42

43

44

45 46

Ilan remarked, while dealing with a group of Syriac and Jewish Babylonian Aramaic bowl texts that were ordered by the same couple (Dadba and Sharqoi), that ‘they believed they should use all measures available to protect themselves, just to be on the safe side, like installing two alarm systems from two competing companies’; see T. Ilan, ‘Jesus and Joshua ben Perahiah: A Jewish-Christian Dialogue on Magic in Babylonia’, in R.S. Boustan, K. Herrmann, R. Leicht, A.Y. Reed, G. Veltri (eds), Envisioning Judaism: Studies in Honor of Peter Schäfer on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday (Tübingen, 2013), ii, pp. 985–995 (986). See S. Bhayro, ‘Performative Elements in the Aramaic Magic Bowls’, in J. Cale Johnson (ed.), Patients and Performative Identity: At the Intersection of the Mesopotamian Technical Disciplines and their Clients (University Park, PA, 2020), pp. 159–167. An analogous perspective, including direct references to incantation bowl texts, is featured in B. Belinitzky, Y. Paz, ‘Bound and Banned: Aphrahaṭ and Excommunication in the Sasanian Empire’, in A.M. Butts, S. Gross (eds), Jews and Syriac Christians: Intersections across the First Millennium (Tübingen, 2020), pp. 67–88 (77–88). Moriggi, ‘Jewish Divorce Formulae’, pp. 90–91. On this type of text in the Syriac bowls, no significant new data are provided by the contribution of S. Bolz, ‘A Jewish Adjuration Formula in Three Syriac Magic Bowls’, in M.E. Doerfler, E. Fiano, K.R. Smith (eds), Syriac Encounters: Papers from the Sixth North American Syriac Symposium, Duke University, 26–29 June 2011 (Leuven, 2015), pp. 455–466.

syriac incantation bowls and the mesopotamian context

67

c)

it is possible to detect in the Syriac texts clear signs of adaptation in terms of both morphology and syntax; d) the key Jewish Babylonian Aramaic term gyṭʾ ‘deed of divorce’ is rendered with Syriac dstbyrʾ, a loanword from Middle Persian (dastwar).47 This short list includes linguistic phenomena that are the tangible result of a ‘sophisticated adaptation of the Jewish spell to the Syriac cultural milieu’.48 For other possible examples, one may read the Syriac bowl no. va 3383 (Vorderasiatisches Museum, Berlin), where elements of Jewish mysticism (including an interesting description of the angel Metatron) were adapted by the scribe in order to be fit for his clients, one of whom bears a Christian name (srgys, ll. 1, 8);49 or Greenfield’s notes on šmḥyzʾ in the Syriac bowl no. ybc 2357:8 (Yale Babylonian Collection).50 A similar process of adaptation and absorption may be detected, albeit in a more nuanced way, in some passages of the Peshiṭta Old Testament. For example, Paradise is described as a mountain, which is unlike the Hebrew text of Genesis but in accordance with other early Jewish texts such as Ezekiel and 1 Enoch. Analogously, the technical term qdyšʾ /qaddīšā/ ‘holy’ means ‘continent’ in the Peshiṭta Old Testament, and, ‘although this ideal [sexual continence] was clearly current in some circles within Judaism, there appear to be no clear

47

48 49

50

We may further add that the texts feature the well-known figure of Joshua ben Peraḥyah, a significant character in the texts for divorcing demons. This Talmudic sage seems to have had an important role in Jewish-Christian magical interaction in Sasanian Babylonia; see Ilan, ‘Jesus and Joshua ben Perahiah’. Moriggi, ‘Jewish Divorce Formulae’, p. 91. See M. Schneider, ‘Metatron in Syriac Incantation Bowls’, in Festschrift Moshe Idel (in preparation); S. Bhayro, J.N. Ford, D. Levene, O. Paz-Saar, Aramaic Magic Bowls in the Vorderasiatisches Museum in Berlin: Descriptive List and Edition of Selected Texts (Leiden and Boston, 2018), pp. 54–56 (with a contribution to the edition of the text by M. Moriggi). Regarding onomastics and Syriac-Iranian interaction in the Sasanian period, see P. Gignoux, C. Jullien, ‘L’ onomastique iranienne dans les sources syriaques: quand les chrétiens d’ Iran changent de nom (ive–viie s.)’, Parole de l’Orient 31 (2006), pp. 279–294. Now newly published in Moriggi, A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls, pp. 22–26 (Bowl no. 1) and further commented upon in O. Abudraham, ‘Syriac Incantation Bowls’, Orientalia 84 (2015), pp. 99–107 (100–101); see Jonas C. Greenfield, ‘Notes on Some Aramaic and Mandaic Magic Bowls’, Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society of Columbia University 5 (1973), pp. 153–154. A partial list of Jewish elements in Syriac bowls is provided by C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Eine ungewöhnliche Hekhalot-Zauberschale und ihr babylonisches Umfeld: Jüdisches Gedankengut in den Magischen Texten des Ostens’, Frankfurter Judaistische Beiträge 38 (2013), pp. 69–84 (69–70). For an analysis of other linguistic features that point to a Jewish Babylonian Aramaic origin of some Syriac bowl texts, with adaptation and linguistic variation, see H. Juusola, ‘Who Wrote the Syriac Incantation Bowls?’, in Studia Orientalia 85 (Helsinki, 1999), pp. 77–87.

68

moriggi

instances where qaddisha has this technical sense in Jewish texts.’51 Thus it is possible, to some extent, to trace the way Jewish features entered Syriac incantation bowls by means of text variation—certainly morphological and syntactical, but also lexical. While the Jewish origin of the divorce-formula is beyond doubt, what is found in the Syriac texts is different from what is found in the Jewish texts, first of all from the point of view of language. Behind the texts, of course, there were scribes, and it is important to remember that all such textual and cultural interactions involve real human beings. As Lacerenza puts it, at the heart of such interactions, was the ‘average late antique magician […] a mediator between different realities, modes of thought, and situations: between learned and popular culture, between orthodoxy and heterodoxy, and between traditional faith and other cultures’.52

5

Syriac Christianity and Judaism in Sasanian Mesopotamia: Interaction through Shared Magical Practices

As we are studying texts, we run the risk of ‘depicting it all as if human lives were made up only of words, culture and cognitive representations, and not of the process of social interaction’.53 In this respect, the incantation bowls have proved useful in emphasising that, in the framework of Sasanian Babylonia, ‘the elements in flux are affected by a multitude of individual experiences, and to look for a simple match, a single “structure” that embraces a shared cognitive model and an aggregate configuration of society, is a futile exercise’.54 Thus, on the one hand, we have a rich inventory of Jewish features in Syriac texts, some, but not all, of which would have been Christian. But we also have, on the other hand, sophisticated paraphernalia of social and cultural categories, such as ‘Judaism’ and ‘Christianity’ etc., all of which are more or less constructed according to the ‘boundary schema’ that ‘constructs an assumption of shared homogeneity within the group and cultural difference between groups, with great potential consequences for the social life of larger communities and regions’.55 Faced with this situation, we chose text variation and

51 52 53

54 55

Brock, ‘Jewish Traditions’, pp. 217–218, 225–226. Lacerenza, ‘Jewish Magicians and Christian Clients’, p. 416. F. Barth, ‘Boundaries and Connections’, in A.P. Cohen (ed.), Signifying Identities: Anthropological Perspectives on Boundaries and Contested Values (London and New York, 2000), pp. 17–36 (31). Barth, ‘Boundaries and Connections’, p. 33. Barth, ‘Boundaries and Connections’, p. 30. This schema has solid foundations in ‘canon-

syriac incantation bowls and the mesopotamian context

69

its linguistic implications as a way to understand at least part of the process that led to the inclusion of some Jewish features in Syriac bowl texts. This process is surely a transfer (if not a direct translation), and implies adoption and adaptation before absorption. In terms of social interactions, ‘given the very personal nature of the incantations, this is testimony to a level of interaction between the communities that the official sources deny. But the level of interaction goes beyond clients seeking the services of those from other communities. There is much evidence for an interaction, possibly even fellowship, between practitioners from different communities’.56 More generally, as Bhayro notes: The texts illuminate the relations between the various religious and ethnic groups. We even see families where the two spouses have names of different religious and ethnic origins, and where the children again have names that indicate different ethnic and religious groups. We find that magic provided a medium that fostered intercommunal relations on a number of levels, with scribes from various communities apparently engaging in meaningful fellowship with each other and with their clients, often on quite intimate terms. Furthermore, we can now locate these practices at the core rather than on the periphery of these communities. Some of the unpublished bowls contain explicit dates, which can help in fixing the time and location of the communities involved.57 In this context, although the impact of Jewish features still appears to be significant, one is not persuaded to see the type of interaction discussed above in terms of ‘influence’ on the part of the Jewish communities of Sasanian Babylonia on the Christian or other communities. As pointed out by Stern, ‘indeed, in the context of Sasanian-ruled Babylonia it would be difficult to identify Jews, Christians, or pagans as either dominant or weak, and hence in a privileged position to exert influence over one another; a more egalitarian model of cul-

56

57

ical’ books and their ideology, and frequently surfaces as the main methodological issue of ‘comparativism’ in Religious Studies as a whole. For more nuanced uses of the comparative methodology in this respect, see J.E. Sanzo, ‘Deconstructing the Deconstructionists: A Response to recent Criticism of the Rubric “Ancient Magic”’, in Idem, A. Mastrocinque, M. Scapini (eds), Ancient Magic: Then and Now (Stuttgart, 2020), pp. 27–49 (31). S. Bhayro, ‘Magic as the Basis for Social Cohesion in pre-Islamic Mesopotamia’, Societas Magica Newsletter 25 (2011), pp. 1–5. In this context one may stress the importance of handbooks of magic, ‘even among magicians living in villages in remote regions’, that could be transmitted from one magician to another regardless of any religious affiliation; see Lacerenza, ‘Jewish Magicians and Christian Clients’, pp. 407–408. Bhayro, ‘Magic as the Basis for Social Cohesion’, p. 5.

70

moriggi

tural exchange should perhaps be preferred’.58 Furthermore, ‘it is misleading, moreover, to treat “influence” as the logical opposite, or at least sole counterpart, of “shared culture” […]. Influence, coercion, mimicry, emulation, borrowing, appropriation, accommodation, trade, exchange, distribution, free access, free sharing, etc., are all possible and legitimate ways for culturemes to be transmitted between people or groups of people, and thus to account for resulting similarities between them’.59 According to the data provided by the Syriac bowl texts, we find neither polemic against, nor resistance to, the exchange of themes and motifs between Syriac and Jewish texts on incantation bowls. This exchange aimed to give the incantation as much strength as possible. Having a practical goal, there appears to have been little room for allusions to controversies and hostilities. Apart from the concept of ‘influence’, which we have already considered, the Syriac incantation bowls, in their relationship with their Jewish counterparts, exhibit a high degree of interaction and overlap between traditions that the scholarly works have usually kept obscured. If we project this picture onto social interactions, to the degree that this is possible with ancient cultures and societies, we can imagine that Jews and Christians interacted in late-antique Babylonia on the basis of a common need for magic protection (something that was also shared by Manichaeans, Mandaeans, and other communities).60 In this sense,

58

59

60

S. Stern, ‘Rabbinic, Christian, and Local Calendars in Late Antique Babylonia: Influence and Shared Culture’, in M.J. Geller (ed.), The Archaeology and Material Culture of the Babylonian Talmud (Leiden and Boston, 2015), pp. 260–288 (262). Stern, ‘Rabbinic, Christian, and Local Calendars’, p. 263. In this respect, it might be useful to consider the idea of a ‘percolation’—in the Mesopotamian religious (and magical) tradition—of themes and motifs, through both vertical and horizontal dynamics. This ‘percolation’ was ‘channelled through the migratory routes of folk-lore and tradition’; see B. Barnes, Contextualising Syriac Anathema: Bridging the Gap between Suggestions of Comparison in Late Antique and Nineteenth Century Christian Ritual Practice [University of Southampton, Faculty of Humanities, Thesis for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy (2016), unpublished], p. 114. For an original overview of the communities of Sasanian Babylonia and their interaction, with important bibliographical references, see K. Smith, ‘When Christians Became Iranian’, Review of: R.E. Payne, A State of Mixture: Christians, Zoroastrians, and Iranian Political Culture in Late Antiquity (Oakland, 2015), http://marginalia.lareviewofbooks.org/when​ ‑christians‑became‑iranian‑by‑kyle‑smith/ (last visit 28.11.2020). For interaction between Christian and Iranian cultures in the Sasanian context, see S. Minov, ‘Dynamics of Christian Acculturation in the Sasanian Empire: Some Iranian Motifs in the Cave of Treasures’ in G. Herman (ed.), Jews, Christians, and Zoroastrians: Religious Dynamics in a Sasanian Context (Piscataway, NJ, 2014), pp. 159–212. For shared terminologies in Christian and Manichaean sources, see A. Piras, ‘Shared Terminologies between Christianity and Manichaeism’, Nāme-ye Irān-e Bāstān 12 (2014), pp. 25–46.

syriac incantation bowls and the mesopotamian context

71

the usual description of communities in terms of social and cultural boundaries, based on, and at the same time fostering, conflicts and polemics, must be considered unsuitable. It is now evident that, as Stern observes, ‘cultural transfer and similarity do not occur solely by virtue of physical or social proximity between different groups and cultures,’ and that ‘it occurs in a specific social context (which can be, for example, political or economic domination, conflict and polemic, coexistence and partnership, mobility and migration, etc.), and as a result of concrete and specific events or social processes’.61 The framework within which the Syriac incantation bowls were conceived is a highly articulated web of interactions, not necessarily only in the lower section of Babylonian society, but even in the very same scriptoria where canonical texts were prepared.62 These interactions were not subject to the rigid separation witnessed in other sources, as the incantation bowls were part of a series of theurgic practices that, in turn, pertained to the same cultural stock whose tradition had a long history in Mesopotamia. Rewording Stern, we may say that it was perhaps the congruence of diverse processes—the independent histories of individual magical traditions, their reciprocal interactions, and the shared Babylonian culture of the Aramaic-speaking communities—that successfully brought about the emergence of the practice of incantation bowls, where Christian (Syriac) and Jewish (Jewish Babylonian Aramaic) individuals interacted in order to create effective tools for the protection of their families from misfortunes, illnesses and demons.63

Acknowledgements The author wishes to thank the following friends and colleagues who commented upon an earlier draft of this paper and provided suggestions, references and thoughtful help: Siam Bhayro (University of Exeter), James Nathan Ford (Bar Ilan University), Dan Levene and Bradley Barnes (University of Southampton), Alessandro Lutri (Università di Catania), Alessandro Mengozzi and Enrico Foietta (Università di Torino), Sergey Minov (hse Moscow), Andrea Ravenda (Università di Perugia).

61 62

63

Stern, ‘Rabbinic, Christian, and Local Calendars’, p. 263. For Jewish Rabbinic circles, Talmudic scriptoria and incantation bowls, see S. Bhayro, ‘On Early Jewish Literature and the Aramaic Magic Bowls’, Aramaic Studies 13 (2015), pp. 54– 68. Stern, ‘Rabbinic, Christian and Local Calendars’, p. 285.

72

moriggi

Bibliography G. Abousamra, ‘A New Manichaean Incantation Bowl’, in C. Horn, S. Griffith (eds), Biblical and Qurʿanic Traditions in the Middle East (Warwick, RI, 2016), pp. 239–250. O. Abudraham, ‘Syriac Incantation Bowls’, Orientalia 84 (2015), pp. 99–107. [reviewarticle of Moriggi, A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls] B. Barnes, Contextualising Syriac Anathema: Bridging the Gap between Suggestions of Comparison in Late Antique and Nineteenth Century Christian Ritual Practice [University of Southampton, Faculty of Humanities, Thesis for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy (2016), unpublished] F. Barth, ‘Boundaries and Connections’, in A.P. Cohen (ed.), Signifying Identities: Anthropological Perspectives on Boundaries and Contested Values (London and New York, 2000), pp. 17–36. B. Belinitzky, Y. Paz, ‘Bound and Banned: Aphrahaṭ and Excommunication in the Sasanian Empire’, in A.M. Butts, S. Gross (eds), Jews and Syriac Christians, pp. 67–88. S. Bhayro, ‘Performative Elements in the Aramaic Magic Bowls’, in J. Cale Johnson (ed.), Patients and Performative Identity: At the Intersection of the Mesopotamian Technical Disciplines and their Clients (University Park, PA, 2020), pp. 159–167. S. Bhayro, ‘On Early Jewish Literature and the Aramaic Magic Bowls’, Aramaic Studies 13 (2015), pp. 54–68. S. Bhayro, ‘Magic as the Basis for Social Cohesion in pre-Islamic Mesopotamia’, Societas Magica Newsletter 25 (2011), pp. 1–5. S. Bhayro, J.N. Ford, D. Levene, O. Paz-Saar, Aramaic Magic Bowls in the Vorderasiatisches Museum in Berlin: Descriptive List and Edition of Selected Texts (Leiden and Boston, 2018). G. Bohak, ‘Jewish Amulets, Magic Bowls, and Manuals in Aramaic and Hebrew’, in Frankfurter (ed.), Guide, pp. 388–415. G. Bohak, ‘Hebrew, Hebrew Everywhere? Notes on the Interpretation of Voces Magicae’, in S.B. Noegel, J.T. Walker, B.M. Wheeler (eds), Prayer, Magic, and the Stars in the Ancient and Late Antique World (University Park, PA, 2003), pp. 69–82. S. Bolz, ‘A Jewish Adjuration Formula in Three Syriac Magic Bowls’, in M.E. Doerfler, E. Fiano, K.R. Smith (eds), Syriac Encounters: Papers from the Sixth North American Syriac Symposium, Duke University, 26–29 June 2011 (Leuven, 2015), pp. 455–466. L.M. Bortolani, S. Nagel, ‘Introduction’, in Eaedem, W.F. Furley, J.F. Quack (eds), Cultural Plurality in Ancient Magical Texts and Practices: Graeco-Egyptian Handbooks and Related Traditions (Tübingen, 2019), pp. 1–23. S.P. Brock, ‘Jewish Traditions in Syriac Sources’, Journal of Jewish Studies 30 (1979), pp. 212–232. A.M. Butts, S. Gross (eds), Jews and Syriac Christians: Intersections across the First Millennium (Tübingen, 2020).

syriac incantation bowls and the mesopotamian context

73

Christie’s, Europaean, Classical, Byzantine, Western Asiatic and Egyptian Antiquities and Ancient Jewellery: Catalogue Antiquities ii (London, 1973). M. Dickens, ‘Syriac Christianity in Central Asia’, in D. King (ed.), The Syriac World, pp. 582–623. K. Eshleman, Review of: É. Rebillard, J. Rüpke (eds), Group Identity and Religious Individuality in Late Antiquity (Washington D.C., 2015), http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2016/​ 2016‑05‑35.html (last visit 28.11.2020). J.N. Ford, Aramaic Bowl Spells: Syriac Bowls (Leiden and Boston, in preparation). J.N. Ford, O. Abudraham, ‘Syriac and Mandaic Incantation Bowls’, in D. Regev, H. Hizmi (eds), Finds Gone Astray: adca Confiscated Items (Jerusalem, 2018), pp. 75–111. J.N. Ford, M. Morgenstern, Aramaic Incantation Bowls in Museum Collections: 1. The Frau Hilprecht Collection of Babylonian Antiquities, Jena (Leiden and Boston, 2020). D. Frankfurter (ed.), Guide to the Study of Ancient Magic (Leiden and Boston, 2019). M. Gawlikowski, ‘Bijan in the Euphrates’, Sumer 42 (1985), pp. 15–21. M.J. Geller, Review of: Frankfurter (ed.), Guide to the Study of Ancient Magic, https://​ bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020.03.37 (last visit 27.11.2020). P. Gignoux, ‘Une nouvelle jarre inscrite en syriaque d’Asie Centrale’, in La Persia e l’Asia Centrale da Alessandro al x secolo (Atti dei Convegni Lincei 127; Roma, 1996), pp. 39– 48. P. Gignoux, C. Jullien, ‘L’onomastique iranienne dans les sources syriaques: quand les chrétiens d’Iran changent de nom (ive–viie s.)’, Parole de l’Orient 31 (2006), pp. 279– 294. C.H. Gordon, ‘Aramaic Incantation Bowls’, Orientalia 10 (1941), pp. 116–141, 272–284, 339–360. C.H. Gordon, ‘Aramaic Magical Bowls in the Istanbul and Baghdad Museums’, Archiv Orientální 6 (1934), pp. 319–334. M. Gorea, ‘Coupes magiques syriaques et manichéennes en provenance de Mésopotamie’, in F. Briquel Chatonnet, M. Debié, A. Desreumaux (eds), Les inscriptions syriaques (Paris, 2004), pp. 107–116. J.C. Greenfield, ‘Notes on Some Aramaic and Mandaic Magic Bowls’, Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society of Columbia University 5 (1973), pp. 149–156. T. Harviainen, ‘Pagan Incantations in Aramaic Magic Bowls’, in M.J. Geller, J.C. Greenfield, M.P. Weitzman (eds), Studia Aramaica: New Sources and New Approaches (Oxford, 1995), pp. 53–60. T. Harviainen, ‘Syncretistic and Confessional Features in Mesopotamian Incantation Bowls’, in Studia Orientalia 70 (Helsinki, 1993), pp. 29–37. G. Hirsch, Antiken—Präkolumbische Kunst: Auktion 222 am 24. und 25. September 2002 (München, 2002). T. Ilan, ‘Jesus and Joshua ben Perahiah: A Jewish-Christian Dialogue on Magic in Babylonia’, in R.S. Boustan, K. Herrmann, R. Leicht, A.Y. Reed, G. Veltri (eds), Envisioning

74

moriggi

Judaism: Studies in Honor of Peter Schäfer on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday (Tübingen, 2013), ii, pp. 985–995. H. Juusola, ‘Who Wrote the Syriac Incantation Bowls?’, in Studia Orientalia 85 (Helsinki, 1999), pp. 75–92. D. King (ed.), The Syriac World (London, 2019). R. Kotansky, ‘Textual Amulets and Writing Traditions in the Ancient World’, in Frankfurter (ed.), Guide, pp. 507–554. G. Lacerenza, ‘Jewish Magicians and Christian Clients in Late Antiquity: The Testimony of Amulets and Inscriptions’, in L.V. Rutgers (ed.), What Athens Has to Do with Jerusalem: Essays on Classical, Jewish, and Early Christian Art and Archaeology in Honor of Gideon Foerster (Leuven, 2002), pp. 393–419. D. Levene, A Corpus of Magic Bowls: Incantation Texts in Jewish Aramaic from Late Antiquity (London and New York, 2009). [First published: London, 2003]. D. Levene, ‘Jewish Liturgy and Magic Bowls’, in C.T.R. Hayward, B. Embry (eds), Studies in Jewish Prayer (Oxford, 2005), pp. 163–184. M. Lidzbarski, ‘Die Herkunft der manichäischen Schrift’, Sitzungsberichte der königlichpreussischen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin 50 (1916), pp. 1213–1222. S. Minov, ‘Dynamics of Christian Acculturation in the Sasanian Empire: Some Iranian Motifs in the Cave of Treasures’, in G. Herman (ed.), Jews, Christians, and Zoroastrians: Religious Dynamics in a Sasanian Context (Piscataway, NJ, 2014), pp. 159–212. M. Moriggi, ‘“And the impure and abominable priests fled for help to the names of the devils”. Amulets and magical practices in Syriac Christian culture between Late Antiquity and the modern world’, Hugoye: Journal of Syriac Studies 19 (2016), pp. 371– 384. M. Moriggi, ‘Jewish Divorce Formulae in Syriac Incantation Bowls’, Aramaic Studies 13 (2015), pp. 82–94. M. Moriggi, A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls: Syriac Magical Texts from Late-Antique Mesopotamia (Leiden and Boston, 2014). C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Zauberschalen und ihre Umwelt: Ein Überblick über das Schreibmedium Zauberschale’, in J. Kamlah, R. Schäfer, M. Witte (eds), Zauber und Magie im antiken Palästina und in seiner Umwelt: Kolloquium des Deutschen Vereins zur Erforschung Palästinas vom 14. bis 16. November 2014 in Mainz (Wiesbaden, 2017), pp. 59–71. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Eine ungewöhnliche Hekhalot-Zauberschale und ihr babylonisches Umfeld: Jüdisches Gedankengut in den Magischen Texten des Ostens’, Frankfurter Judaistische Beiträge 38 (2013), pp. 69–84. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Syrische Zauberschalen—Korrekturen und Nachträge’, Die Welt des Orients 36 (2006), pp. 116–130. [review-article of M. Moriggi, La lingua delle coppe magiche siriache (Firenze, 2004)] J. Neusner, A History of the Jewish in Babylonia: v. Later Sasanian Times (Leiden, 1970).

syriac incantation bowls and the mesopotamian context

75

A. Piras, ‘Shared Terminologies between Christianity and Manichaeism’, Nāme-ye Irāne Bāstān 12 (2014), pp. 25–46. F. Ruani, ‘Formations et origines des nomina barbara dans les objets magiques syriaques des ve–viie siècles’, in M. Tardieu, A. Van den Kerchove, M. Zago (eds), Noms barbares i: Formes et contextes d’une pratique magique (Turnhout, 2013), pp. 301– 314. J.E. Sanzo, ‘Deconstructing the Deconstructionists: A Response to recent Criticisms of the Rubric “Ancient Magic”’, in Idem, A. Mastrocinque, M. Scapini (eds), Ancient Magic: Then and Now (Stuttgart, 2020), pp. 27–49. M. Schneider, ‘Metatron in Syriac Incantation Bowls’, in Festschrift Moshe Idel (in preparation). S. Shaked, ‘Jews, Christians and Pagans in the Aramaic Incantation Bowls of the Sasanian Period’, in A. Destro, M. Pesce (eds), Religions and Cultures: First International Conference of Mediterraneum (Binghamton, 2002), pp. 61–89. S. Shaked, ‘Manichaean Incantation Bowls in Syriac’, Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 24 (2000), pp. 58–92. S. Shaked, ‘The Poetic of Spells: Language and Structure in Aramaic Incantations of Late Antiquity: 1. The Divorce Formula and Its Ramifications’, in T. Abusch, K. van der Toorn (eds), Mesopotamian Magic: Textual, Historical, and Interpretative Perspectives (Groningen, 1999), pp. 173–195. S. Shaked, J.N. Ford, S. Bhayro, Aramaic Bowl Spells: Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Bowls Volume One (Leiden and Boston, 2013). K. Smith, ‘When Christians Became Iranian’, Review of: R.E. Payne, A State of Mixture: Christians, Zoroastrians, and Iranian Political Culture in Late Antiquity (Oakland, 2015), in http://marginalia.lareviewofbooks.org/when‑christians‑became‑iranian‑ by‑kyle‑smith/ (last visit 28.11.2020). S. Stern, ‘Rabbinic, Christian, and Local Calendars in Late Antique Babylonia: Influence and Shared Culture’, in M.J. Geller (ed.), The Archaeology and Material Culture of the Babylonian Talmud (Leiden and Boston, 2015), pp. 260–288. J. Teixidor, ‘The Syriac Incantation Bowls in the Iraq Museum’, Sumer 18 (1962), pp. 51– 62. L. Van Rompay, ‘Some Remarks on the Language of Syriac Incantation Texts’, in R. Lavenant (ed.), v Symposium Syriacum 1988 (Rome, 1990), pp. 369–381. G. Veltri, A Mirror of Rabbinic Hermeneutics: Studies in Religion, Magic, and Language Theory in Ancient Judaism (Berlin and Boston, 2015). R. Venco Ricciardi, ‘Trial Trench at Tell Baruda’, Mesopotamia 8–9 (1973–1974), pp. 15– 20. C.B.F. Walker, ‘Table of Registration Numbers and Provenances’, in J.B. Segal, Catalogue of the Aramaic and Mandaic Incantation Bowls in the British Museum (London, 2000), pp. 35–39.

76

moriggi

D.J. Waller, ‘Curious Characters, Invented Scripts, and … Charlatans? “Pseudo-Scripts” in the Mesopotamian Magic Bowls’, Journal of Near Eastern Studies 78 (2019), pp. 119–139.

chapter 5

More on the ‘Book of Protection’ and the Syriac ‘Charms’: New Texts and Perspectives for the Study of Magic and Religion Michael Zellmann-Rohrer

1

Introduction

The Syriac compendia of ritual methods seeking assistance in all aspects of life, cohering in collections known in modern Western scholarship as the ‘Book of Protection’ or ‘Book of Charms’, aimed at no lesser a goal, to quote one of their titles, than the ‘protection of humanity from all that is evil and hostile’.1 Surviving only in modern copies but evincing ancient roots, these collections have been known in the West at least since the early days of Anglo-American missionary activity in the 18th century, and they are reasonably familiar within Syriac studies and even beyond. They are less well served, however, by editions and studies than might be hoped or, by now, expected, and the same is true for their counterparts in finished ritual products, or amulets. The purpose of this chapter is to report on progress towards remedying that situation, in the form of an expanded collection of witnesses to the Syriac magical tradition—‘magic’ being used here as a convenient shorthand for instrumental religion focused on personal protection and advancement, shared with the scholarship on neighbouring traditions, though its practitioners would probably have resisted it and indeed framed their texts explicitly in opposition to it.2 The catalogue of these documents (section 3 below) cannot

1 Cambridge, MA, Houghton Library Ms. Syr. 163 (unpublished; described further below under the siglum CaH163), f. 2b, 焏‫ ܘܣܢ‬犿‫ܡ ܕܒܝ‬煟‫ ܡ‬爏‫ ܟ‬爯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܢܫ‬營̈‫ܐ ܕܒܢ‬犯‫ܛ‬熏‫ ܕܢ‬焏‫ܒ‬狏‫ ;ܟ‬similarly Ma52 (as described below). 2 For this convention see M. Zellmann-Rohrer, ‘A Syriac-Arabic Dream-Request and Its Jewish Tradition’, Journal of Near Eastern Studies 78 (2019), pp. 59–74 (59 n. 1); for rituals to counteract ‘magic’ in this tradition see e.g. among the formulae published by H. Gollancz (described under the siglum G. A, below), a ‘binding of [i.e., against] magic arts’ (焏‫ܐ ܕܚܪܫ‬犯‫ܐܣ‬, §44) and a procedure for ‘a man upon whom magic arts have been practiced’ (煿‫ ܒ‬爯‫ܝ‬煟‫ ܕܥܒܝ‬犿‫ܐܢ‬ 焏‫ܚܪܫ‬, § 51) in which an analogy is drawn to no meaner a biblical precedent than the defeat of Jannes and Jambres by Moses.

© Michael Zellmann-Rohrer, 2022 | doi:10.1163/9

78

zellmann-rohrer

yet claim to be exhaustive, and the author, who continues to develop editions and annotated translations of the texts, would particularly welcome information on further relevant manuscripts. A preliminary sketch is given both of the character of the tradition as a whole (section 4) and of the implications of newly identified witnesses for understanding magic and popular religion in pre- and early-modern Mesopotamia and beyond. Garshuni texts, which belong to the study of Arabic (and Christian Arabic) ritual and magic, are not treated here;3 while a perspective is offered in passing on Late Ancient and early Medieval Syriac amulets, they cannot be examined in any detail.

2

History of Research

Three intersecting traditions must be distinguished at the outset: the standalone ‘Book of Protection’, collections of related formulae in miscellanies, most often in codices concerned with medicine and divination, and ‘finished products’ in the form of amulets, copied with the aid of one or more formularyrecipes from the first two categories, for which the favoured format was a long, thin paper scroll that could be rolled up and carried in a pouch. (See sections 3.1, 3.2, and 3.3 below respectively; and for a more detailed consideration of the history of the field, its past problems and future trajectories, the contribution by Abigail Pearson to this volume.) Research on the second strand is little developed, but the existence of the first and third have long been documented in Western exploration of enclaves of Syriac culture in Kurdistan and Azerbaijan—northern Iraq, southeast Turkey, northwest Iran—and followed with editions. The American missionary Rev. Justin Perkins (1805–1869) gave a first-hand account of a ‘Nestorian’ village priest who fulfilled a request from a Muslim client for a ‘charm’ for a cow that failed to produce milk, by pronouncing a prayer over some salt to be fed to the animal, a text which, another priest explained, was memorised from an ‘old book’.4 The British Arabist and missionary George Percy Badger (1815–1888) offered excerpts in English translation from a manuscript of ‘charms’ that he had acquired in the region of

3 E.g. the ‘collection of charms and spells’ in a 19th-century manuscript now in Diyarbakir, Meryem Ana Kilisesi Ms. 208 (unpublished; preliminary catalogue entry by G. Kessel for the vhmml project—I owe this reference to Marco Moriggi). 4 A Residence of Eight Years in Persia among the Nestorian Christians, with Notices of the Muhammedans (Andover, MA, and New York, 1843), p. 456.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

79

Mosul in the 1840s; on another visit to Lizan in 1850, he observed a presbyter copying and selling amulets in the village.5 The British rabbi Sir Hermann Gollancz (1852–1930), Goldsmid Professor of Hebrew at University College, London,6 published what remains the most extensive collection, three manuscripts with formulae for what he termed ‘charms’.7 This publication, which was welcomed by both Semitists and folklorists,8 had been preceded by a paper originally delivered at the Paris Orientalist Congress of 1897 with excerpts of texts and translations.9 The volume was not accompanied by a synthetic study, and commentary was minimal—an exception is an extended discussion of Jewish folklore on Solomon in the preface, occasioned by the unusual epithet bar Yaqay attached to him in one of the Syriac texts. Gollancz had been preceded in the publication of a textual amulet by the Rev. Willis Hatfield Hazard in 1893 and in the description and extensive if incomplete translation of another ‘Book of Protection’ manuscript by the French Armenologist Frédéric Macler.10 The project of editing texts, especially the finished amulets, has been well served by Erica Hunter, who has also developed an application of Form Criticism from biblical exegesis to the understanding of the presence of the saints in these formulae and refined the description of textual genres among them, continuing the unpublished work of Karl Kramer.11 Another unpublished dis-

5

6 7 8

9

10

11

The Nestorians and Their Rituals, with the Narrative of a Mission to Mesopotamia and Coordistan in 1842–1844, and of a Late Visit to Those Countries in 1850, 2 vols. (London, 1852), vol. i, pp. 238–240. H.M.J. Loewe, ‘Gollancz, Sir Hermann (1852–1930)’, in Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, revised online edition (2009): https://doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/33444. The Book of Protection, Being a Collection of Charms (London, 1912). Reviews: H. Hirschfeld, jqr 11 (1899), pp. 695–696; M. Gaster, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland 45 (1913), pp. 452–454, and Folklore 24 (1913), pp. 150– 152. As regards folklore, a synthesis between the data of the ‘Book of Protections’ and related texts and the information gathered by B. Nikitine, ‘Superstitions des Chaldéens du plateau d’ Ourmiah’, Revue d’ethnographie et des traditions populaires 4 (1923), pp. 149– 181, remains a desideratum; the latter records occasional ‘charms’ including the words 焏‫ܦ‬焏‫ܢ ܟ‬熏‫ ܫܡܥ‬焏‫ܦ‬焏‫ ܠܟ‬焏‫ܦ‬焏‫‘ ܟ‬Stone upon stone [kêfâ]: Simon Peter [Kêfâ]!’ to bind the mouths of wolves and prevent them from harming lost livestock (180–181 no. 33), and an address to an onion to avoid eye irritation when peeling (175 no. 126). ‘A Selection of Charms from Syriac Manuscripts’, in Actes du onzième congrès international des orientalistes, Paris–1897, quatrième section, hébreu—phénicien—araméen—éthiopien—assyrien (Paris, 1898), pp. 77–97. ‘A Syriac Charm’, Journal of the American Oriental Society 15 (1892), pp. 284–296 (see under CaH165 below); ‘Formules magiques de l’ Orient Chrétien’, Revue de l’histoire des religions 58 (1908), pp. 9–33 (see under PaM below). E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Saints in Syriac Anathemas: A Form-Critical Analysis of Role’, Journal of

80

zellmann-rohrer

sertation in the intervening years by the Dominican Fr. Yousif Mirkis, Bishop of Kirkuk, examined the amulets alongside parallels in Arabic in the context of contemporary beliefs about the evil eye.12 The edition of the formularies, however, has not advanced much since Gollancz, whose publication in turn is not without problems, one example of which will be seen further on. The texts have nevertheless begun to find a place in sociological studies of their homeland,13 whose continuation may be hoped for in future work.

3

Textual Witnesses

Here presented in alphabetical order by modern holding institution are all witnesses to the ‘Book of Protection’ and related traditions known to the author in any worthwhile detail and which, when noted as either ‘published’ or ‘collated’, will figure in the new edition. In addition to the documents known through their removal to libraries, chiefly in the West, relevant texts were still to be found into the 21st century in private hands closer to their original homeland, as well illustrated by the recent survey of Nicholas Al-Jeloo, full publication of the results of which is still awaited.14 In the interest of space, codicological descriptions are kept to a minimum. As a significant number remain inaccessible, a grouping into families would be premature; some remarks on that subject are attempted in section 5 below. For convenience, as such a checklist does not yet exist, an annex to 3.3 on pre- or early Medieval Syriac amulets outside of the amuletic bowls is also offered. The bowls, no fewer than 49 of which have been collected and comprehensively discussed in the recent corpus of Marco Moriggi,15 need not be reprised here; along with similar artefacts in Jewish Aramaic, their floruit falls

12 13 14 15

Semitic Studies 32 (1987), pp. 83–104, and ‘Genres of Syriac Amulets: A Study of Cambridge MS. Syr. 3086’, in R. Lavenant (ed.), v Symposium Syriacum, 1988: Katholieke Universiteit, Leuven, 29–31 août 1988 (Rome, 1990), pp. 355–368 (for the text editions see 3.3 below); K.F. Kramer, Textstudien zu Ostsyrischen Beschwörungsgebeten (unpubl. diss., Berlin, 1924). Étude sur quelques amulettes iraquiennes qui protègent du ‘mauvais oeil’ (unpubl. diss., Strasbourg, 1977–1978). A.H. Becker, Revival and Awakening: American Evangelical Missionaries in Iran and the Origins of Assyrian Nationalism (Chicago, 2015), pp. 64–66. ‘Kaldayutha: The Spar-Sammane and Late Antique Syriac Astrology’, aram 24 (2012), pp. 457–492. A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls: Syriac Magical Texts from Late-Antique Mesopotamia (Leiden, 2014); see also Marco Moriggi’s contribution to this volume.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

81

squarely in Late Antiquity.16 Mention may also be made in passing of some unpublished early documents: another amulet on vellum (cf. Ca2480, Pa400, Je96–9173) now in London,17 and an intriguing assemblage of three sheets of gold, silver, and bronze respectively, wrapped around a wooden rod, inserted in a tube, and deposited in a burial in Luristan (Pusht-i Kuh) of the 3rd century ce, inscribed with a complex composite of signs, figures, and letters among which some in an eastern script of Aramaic have been recognised.18 3.1 ‘Book of Protection’ Ba30535 Baghdad, Iraqi Department of Antiquities and Heritage [ex-Saddam Centre of Manuscripts]19 30535. Paper, 11 × 12 cm, 34 ff. Vocalised East Syriac. Colophon lacking; assigned to the 19th century (Harrak). Book of Protection (title not recorded) with at least ten sections and illustrations. Unpublished (not collated); catalogue description by A. Harrak.20 Be95 Berlin, Staatsbibliothek Sachau 95. Paper, 8 × 5.5 cm, 60 ff. Unvocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1778/9 by Ṣlîbâ son of Gammô from tymrʾ, resident of Salmas (the copyist of Be553) for ʿÎṣâ (patronym effaced), placeholders for whose mother’s name and residence were left blank; later personalisations for Ṣûlṭān son of Sānam grandson of kbgy, resident of rkb, ʿÎṣâ son of Sānam, and trwrdʾ son of ʾslʾ, and birth notices dated to 1842/3 for Abraham son of Gûlâ and Ôrâ son of trwyrdʾ. Book of Protection

16 17

18

19

20

E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Incantation Bowls: A Mesopotamian Phenomenon?’, Orientalia 65 (1996), pp. 220–233 (p. 220). British Library: mentioned by S. Brock ap. J. Naveh, ‘A Syriac Amulet on Leather’, Journal of Semitic Studies 42 (1997), pp. 33–38 (p. 38); S. Brock, ‘A Lead Syriac Protective Talisman’, in L. Nehmé and A. Al-Jallad (eds), To the Madbar and Back Again: Studies in the Languages, Archaeology and Cultures of Arabia Dedicated to Michael C.A. Macdonald (Leiden, 2018), pp. 309–326 (p. 309 n. 5). Described by L. Vanden Berghe, ‘Luristan: Prospections archéologiques dans la region de Badr’, Archéologia 36 (1970), pp. 10–21 (20–21); the published photographs do not allow any syntactic Aramaic to be read, and K. Beyer judged the inscriptions to consist solely of ‘buchstabenähnliche’ magical signs: Die aramäischen Texte vom Toten Meer (2 vols; Göttingen, 2004), vol. ii, p. 30. The present location of this manuscript, concealed in the basement of the Centre by the Director, Dr Usama al-Naqashbandi, along with the other holdings before the Americanled invasion, is unknown: Amir Harrak, personal communication, 26 February 2020. Catalogue of Syriac and Garshuni Manuscripts: Manuscripts Owned by the Iraqi Department of Antiquities and Heritage (Leuven, 2011), pp. 86–87.

82

zellmann-rohrer

(‫ܪܐ‬熏‫ ܕܢܛ‬焏‫ܡ‬犯‫ )ܚ‬with 44 sections and illustrations. Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by E. Sachau.21 Be553 Berlin, Staatsbibliothek Or. Oct. 553. Paper, 8 × 6 cm, 37 ff. Unvocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1800 by the presbyter Ṣlîbâ son of Gammô from tymrʾ dwzhʾ, resident of a village in the territory of Urmia whose name has been erased (the copyist of Be95); later ownership note of Joseph (identified by his mother’s name, Ḥannâ) from bwršn. Book of Protection (焏‫ܪܝ‬熏‫ ܕܢܛ‬焏‫ )ܚܪܡ‬with 51 sections and illustrations. Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by E. Sachau.22 Bi316 Birmingham, University Library Mingana 316. Paper, 8.3 × 5.4 cm, 73ff. Vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1776/7 by the deacon Jacob son of Gûryâ grandson of hrwnw from Maršanis (Aṯêl region) for brhym son of the priest Mar Awgîn from Kafîf. Book of Protection (焏‫ܐ ܕܐܢܫ‬犯‫ܛ‬熏‫ ܕܢ‬焏‫ܒ‬狏‫ )ܟ‬with 48 sections and illustrations. Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by A. Mingana,23 with a more recent overview of the content by E.C.D. Hunter.24 Bi583 Birmingham, University Library Mingana 583. Paper, 11.4 × 8.2 cm, 53ff. Occasionally vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1804 by the presbyter Zerwandad son of the late Safar and nephew of Mar John, bishop and hegumen of the Monastery of Ezekiel near Rôstāqâ, residing in Rabnaṯ, who also produced the amulet ny2941/4 (see 3.3 below). Placeholders for the name of the patron, his mother, and his residence have been left blank; later personalisations for Κôʿ son of Zaryâ and nwm son of Yasmîn. Book of Protection (焏‫ܒ‬狏‫ܟ‬ 爟‫ܐ ܕܥܠܝ‬犯‫[ܛ‬熏‫ ܕ]ܢ‬焏‫ )]ܕ[ܛܠ̈ܣܛ‬with 65 sections and illustrations, into which a treatise on medical prognostication has been inserted (ff. 43a–45b) as in G. A. Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by A. Mingana.25 [Cambridge, University Library Add. Ms. 3086: see under G. C] 21 22 23

24

25

Verzeichniss der syrischen handschriften der Königlchen bibliothek zu Berlin (2 vols; Berlin, 1899), vol. i, pp. 367–372 no. 107. Verzeichniss, vol. ii, p. 911 no. 345. Catalogue of the Mingana Collection of Manuscripts now in the Possession of the Trustees of the Woodbroke Settlement, Selly Oak, Birmingham. Volume 1. Syriac and Garshūni Manuscripts (Cambridge, 1933), cols 595–597. ‘Two Codex Handbooks of Amulets: Mingana ms syr 316 and Rylands ms syr 52’, in S.H. Griffith and S. Grebenstein (eds), Christsein in der islamischen Welt: Festschrift für Martin Tamcke zum 60. Geburtstag (Wiesbaden, 2015), pp. 423–438. Catalogue, cols 1106–1107.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

Ca2055

CaH156

CaH160

CaH162

26

27 28

83

Cambridge, University Library Add. Ms. 2055.6. Paper, 16 × 11.5 cm, 1f. Copied by ʿAbdîšôʿ on behalf of the deacon Hûmê of Merestak; assigned to the 18th century. A single section; the lack of the title, and indeed the loss of all but this single leaf, makes the identification of a Book of Protection manuscript uncertain, though the mention of a client in the colophon at least suggests an amuletic collection of some kind as opposed to a more general miscellany. Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by S.A. Cook.26 Cambridge, MA, Houghton Library Ms. Syr. 156. Paper, 11 × 8 cm, 46ff. Occasionally vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1826 in Razgâ by Denḥâ (patronym and titles effaced) for drpy son of ʾyʿwn and his mother ʿnnh from Sarrāṭāw, residents of kwsh in the territory of Urmia, but some sections are personalised for a Denḥâ son of Gawzâ (perhaps the copyist). Book of Protection (焏‫ܐܘܢܓܠܣܛ‬ 焏‫ܪܐ ܕܥܠܝ̈ܡ‬熏‫ )ܕܢܛ‬with 66 sections and illustrations, into which medical prognostics (ff. 39b–41a) as in G. A and pharmacological recipes (ff. 44b–45b) have been inserted. Unpublished (collated); mentioned by M.H. Goshen-Gottstein.27 Cambridge, MA, Houghton Library Ms. Syr. 160. Paper, 12 × 8 cm, 49ff. Unvocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1804 in Shibani by the presbyter George son of Zîʿâ from the Šemzdîn region, resident of the same village (possibly the copyist of G. A and Lo6673), for a client from Hasar whose name and parents’ names have been effaced; later ownership inscriptions of John son of nzʾ, John son of Zîʿâ and kzʾ, grandson of ḥwšbʾ, and Abraham son of Mûqdû. Book of Protection (焏‫ܪܝ‬熏‫ܐ ܕܢܛ‬狏‫ܝܒ‬狏‫ )ܟ‬with 71 sections and illustrations and added medical prognostics (ff. 45a–47b) as in G. A (see 3.2). Unpublished (collated); mentioned by M.H. Goshen-Gottstein.28 Cambridge, MA, Houghton Library Ms. Syr. 162. Paper, 8 × 5 cm, 50ff. Occasionally vocalised East Syriac. Colophon lacking, assigned to the 18th–19th century (Goshen-Gottstein); personalised for multiple patrons (Sargis son of trmnh; bḥr son of ʾzkwtʾ;

W. Wright and S.A. Cook, A Catalogue of the Syriac Manuscripts preserved in the Library of the University of Cambridge (2 vols; Cambridge, 1901), vol. ii, p. 1198. No information on provenance is recorded, but two other fragments from originally separate manuscripts, keep under the same shelfmark, are from southern India (2055.3 and 2055.4), to which Ca1167 may be assigned with more certainty. Syriac Manuscripts in the Harvard College Library: A Catalogue (Missoula, MT, 1979), p. 103. Syriac Manuscripts, p. 104.

84

zellmann-rohrer

CaH163

Ev1

G. A

29 30 31 32

bḥdsr son of Mārûṯ, with one case of aggressive magic on his behalf against ngpḥn son of prztḥnm); probably from the region of Urmia, where it was acquired in 1890. Later ownership inscription of hmw son of Wardâ. Book of Protection (‫ܐ‬狏‫ܝܒ‬狏‫ܟ‬ 焏‫ ܥܠ̈ܝܡ‬犯‫ܛ‬熏‫ ܕܢ‬焏‫ )ܕܐܘܢܓܠܣܛ‬with 36 sections and illustrations. Unpublished (collated); mentioned by M.H. Goshen-Gottstein.29 Cambridge, MA, Houghton Library Ms. Syr. 163. Paper, 10 × 7 cm, 66ff. Partially vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1808/9 by the presbyter hydny son of the presbyter ybw from Gēsâ for a patron from Gûnādēktâ, resident of ʿÛmādyâ, whose name has been effaced in favour of one Ibn Lâ; later ownership notes of a presbyter John son of the deacon Benjamin from the family of the Bnê kwsy. Book of Protection (焏‫ ܘܣܢ‬犿‫ܡ ܕܒܝ‬煟‫ ܡ‬爏‫ ܟ‬爯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܢܫ‬營̈‫ܐ ܕܒܢ‬犯‫ܛ‬熏‫ ܕܢ‬焏‫ܒ‬狏‫)ܟ‬ with 48 sections and illustrations. Unpublished (collated); mentioned by M.H. Goshen-Gottstein.30 Evanston, IL, Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary [ex-Seabury-Western Theological Seminary], Archives, The Styberg Library, Syriac 1. Paper, 13.5×9.4cm, 62ff. Vocalised East Syriac. Colophon lacking, but some sections are personalised for an Adam identified by his mother’s name, Nîmô, with an ownership note of (the same?) Adam with the ethnic ʾbšmyyʾ; assigned to the 18th century (Macomber). Book of Protection (‫ܐ‬犯‫ܛ‬熏‫ ܕܢ‬焏‫ܒ‬狏‫)ܟ‬ with 27 sections and illustrations. Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by W.F. Macomber.31 [London,] Ex-private collection Gollancz A.32 Paper, dimensions not recorded, 72ff. Unvocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1803 by the presbyter George son of the late Zîʿâ from Shibani (possibly the copyist of CaH160 and Lo6673); later ownership inscriptions include those of George son of Laʿzar from kmkyʾ, who acquired it in 1889 from one Joseph son of mrgwl from ʿbglw. Book of Protection (焏‫ܪܝ‬熏‫ܐ ܕܢܛ‬狏‫ܝܒ‬狏‫ )ܟ‬with 53 sections and illustrations

Syriac Manuscripts, p. 105. Syriac Manuscripts, p. 105. ‘Catalogue of Oriental Manuscripts in the Library of Seabury-Western Theological Seminary, Evanston, Illinois’, Muséon 92 (1979), pp. 369–386 (369–370). Now lost; Gollancz donated many of his own books to the Mocatta Library at University College, London (see his Contribution to the History of University College London (Oxford, 1930), pp. 24–25), but no Syriac manuscripts can now be found among them: Rafael C. Siodor, personal communication, 8 November 2019.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

G. B

G. C

LoA17

LoA18

LoA19

Lo6673

33 34 35 36

85

and an additional treatise on medical prognostication. Published by H. Gollancz, Book of Protection, codex A. [London,] Ex-private collection Gollancz B. Paper, dimensions not recorded (‘very small’: Gollancz), 59 ff. Vocalised East Syriac. Copied by Daniel son of the presbyter kwšbʾ of Alqoš; undated. Book of Protection (焏‫ ܢܫ‬營̈‫[ܛܪܐ ܕܒܢ‬熏‫ )]ܢ‬with 12 sections and illustrations. Published by H. Gollancz, Book of Protection, codex B. Cambridge, University Library Add. Ms. 3086. Paper, 7.9 × 5.4 cm, 85ff. Occasionally vocalised East Syriac. Colophon lacking; assigned to the 18th century (Wright) and the Hakkari or Urmia regions (Hunter). Book of Protection (‫ܐ‬犯‫ܛ‬熏‫ܐ ܕܢ‬狏‫ܘܒ‬狏‫ )ܟ‬with 29 sections and illustrations. Published by H. Gollancz, Book of Protection, codex C (re-collated); there is a more recent study of the content by E.C.D. Hunter.33 London, private collection E.M. Assad. Paper, 6 × 4 cm, 57ff. Partially vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1733 in Gûlpāšâ by the archdeacon Elijah son of Stephan, grandson of the presbyter Simon, great-grandson of the presbyter Ṯlāyâ, great-great-grandson of the presbyter Jacob, from Mawānâ (Tergāwār region; probably the same copyist as PaM), for a client from Urmiah whose name has ̈ been erased. Book of Protection (熯‫ ܕܚܫ‬焏‫ ܕܐܘܢܓܠܣܛ‬焏‫ܡ‬犯‫ܚ‬ ‫ܫ‬焏‫ܪ ܘܐܦ ܡܒ‬煿‫ ܕܡ‬爏‫ ܟ‬爯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܥܠܝܡ‬犯‫ܛ‬熏‫ )ܠܢ‬with illustrations. Unpublished; catalogue description by E.M. Assad.34 London, private collection E.M. Assad. Paper, 5 × 4 cm, 70ff. Vocalised East Syriac. Book of Protection (title and provenance not recorded) with illustrations, assigned to the 18th century (Assad). Unpublished; catalogue description by E.M. Assad.35 London, private collection E.M. Assad. Paper, 8 × 6 cm, 55 ff. Unvocalised East Syriac. Book of Protection (title and provenance not recorded) with illustrations, assigned to the 18th century (Assad). Unpublished; catalogue description by E.M. Assad.36 London, British Library Ms. Or. 6673. Paper, 12.5 × 9.0 cm, 48 ff. Unvocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1814 in Shibani by the presbyter George (patronym omitted; possibly the copyist of G. A and

‘Genres of Syriac Amulets’. Pearls from Heaven: The Assad Collection of Syriac Manuscripts and Works of Art (London, 2015), pp. 54–59 no. 17. Pearls from Heaven, pp. 60–61 no. 18. Pearls from Heaven, p. 62 no. 19.

86

zellmann-rohrer

Ma52

Mo417

37 38

39 40

CaH160) for Benjamin, son of the late John and his mother ḥnwkh of qlyrkʾ (or blyrkʾ); later ownership note of Nāmattô son of Māʿê. Book of Protection (‫ܪܐ‬熏‫ܐ ܕܢܛ‬狏‫ܝܒ‬狏‫ )ܟ‬with 67 sections and illustrations. H. Gollancz gives a description, collation with G. A, and edition of most of the additional content not in G. A (re-collated);37 the drawings are discussed by E. Balicka-Witakowska.38 Manchester, John Rylands Library, Syriac Ms. 52. Paper fragments of three or four separate manuscripts bound together, 11.5 × 8 cm, 54ff. Vocalised East Syriac. The material of interest (Ms. A) is a Book of Protection (犿‫ܡ ܕܒܝ‬煟‫ ܡ‬爏‫ ܟ‬爯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܢܫ‬營̈‫ ܕܒܢ‬焏‫ܪܝ‬熏‫ )ܢܛ‬with 30 sections and illustrations. Colophon lacking; assigned to the 18th century and possibly the region of Tkhuma (Coakley). Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by J.F. Coakley;39 excerpts at ff. 42a–43b are published by E.C.D. Hunter, along with the treatise on medical prognostication at ff. 45a–49a from an originally separate manuscript (Ms. B) related to that in G. A, and a survey of the content.40 Mosul, Dominican Friars 417. Paper, 23× 16 cm, 135 ff. Vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1883 by the deacon Parnāsî son of George; note of purchase in 1905 from the family of a man from Tell Kêf in the territory of Mosul, and later personalisation for one Nesṭôrîs. The manuscript is a special case, partly analogous to those described below under 3.2, but it is still most proper to speak of a fullstanding Book of Protection of 57 sections, mutilated at the beginning (ff. 4a–46b), copied following a treatise on the amuletic properties of natural substances related to the Greek Kyranides (ff. 2b– 3b) and later bound with a separate codicological unit of med̈ ‫ ܣܡ‬犯‫)ܣܦ‬. Unpublished (colical content (internally titled 焏‫ܡܢ‬

Book of Protection, pp. 93–103. ‘Illustrating Charms: A Syriac Manuscript with Magic Drawings in the Collection of the British Library’, in G.A. Kiraz (ed.), Malphono w-Rabo d-Malphone: Studies in Honour of Sebastian P. Brock (Piscataway, NJ, 2008), pp. 779–808. J.F. Coakley, ‘A Catalogue of the Syriac Manuscripts in the John Rylands Library’, Bulletin of the John Rylands University Library of Manchester 75 (1993), pp. 105–207 (177–179). An Amulet for the Binding of Guns, Spears, Swords, Daggers and All Implements of War (Oxford, 1992); ‘Magic and Medicine amongst the Christians of Kurdistan’, in E.C.D. Hunter (ed.), The Christian Heritage of Iraq: Collected Papers from the Christianity of Iraq i–v Seminar Days (Piscataway, NJ, 2009), pp. 187–202; ‘Two Codex Handbooks of Amulets’.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

nh3

ny2941/2

ny2941/3

Pa347

41 42 43 44

87

lated); preliminary catalogue description of J. Falconer for the vhmml project. New Haven, CT, Beinecke Library, Hartford Seminary collection no. 3. Paper, 11×7cm, 41ff. Vocalised East Syriac. Colophon lacking; assigned to the 19th century; later ownership notes of Peter son of Gawzel, bwdḥn son of ḥwršwd, and krm son of Mārûṯ. Book of Protection (焏‫ ܢܫ‬營̈‫ ܕܒܢ‬犯‫ܛ‬熏‫ܐ ܕܢ‬狏‫ܒ‬狏‫ )ܟ‬with 50 sections and illustrations. Unpublished (collated); mentioned by J.T. Clemons.41 New York, Public Library, MssCol 2941 vol. 2. Paper, 11.5 × 9 cm, 27ff. Unvocalised East Syriac. Copied in late March of an unknown year by one Elijah (damaged colophon), assigned to the 18th century (Bcheiry); later ownership note of Joseph son of šḥynh. Book of Protection with 50 sections and illustrations, missing the first quire including the title; addition of medical prognostics (ff. 22a– 23b) as in G. A. Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by I. Bcheiry.42 New York, Public Library, MssCol 2941 vol. 3. Paper, 17× 10.5 cm, 62ff. Vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1893 by David son of ʿAbdîšôʿ grandson of qššʾ great-grandson of kwḥʾ alias John from Gol Tappeh (possibly the same family as the copyist of Vi7). Book of Prö tection (焏‫ ܘܕܐܘܢܓܠܣܛ‬焏‫̈ܝܫ‬煟‫ ܕܩ‬焏‫ܡ‬犯‫ )ܚ‬with 57 sections and illustrations (some with later Arabic captions) copied together with a collection of proverbs (ff. [29a]–[46a]) and a martyrdom of St. George (ff. [48a]–[62a]). Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by I. Bcheiry.43 Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France syr. 347. Paper, 8 × 6 cm, 71ff. Partially vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1733/4 in Arṭûn by one ʿgw. Book of Protection (爯‫̈ܒܝ‬焏‫ ܟ‬爏‫ ܟ‬爯‫ ܕܡ‬焏‫ܙܐ ܗܢ‬犯‫ )ܚ‬with 36 sections. Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by F. Nau, who also published an excerpt from ff. 56b–58a.44

‘A Checklist of Syriac Manuscripts in the United States and Canada’, Orientalia Christiana Periodica 32 (1966), pp. 224–251, 478–522 (483 no. 211). ‘Syriac Manuscripts in New York Public Library’, Hugoye 11 (2008), pp. 141–159 (143–149). ‘Syriac Manuscripts’, pp. 150–156. ‘Notices des manuscrits syriaques, éthiopiens et mandéens, entrés à la Bibliothèque nationale de Paris depuis l’ édition des catalogues’, Revue de l’Orient chrétien ser. 2, 16 (1911), pp. 271–323 (302 no. 94); Histoire de Nestorius d’après la lettre à Cosme et l’Hymne de Sliba de Mansourya sur les docteurs grecs. Conjuration de Nestorius contre les migraines (Patrologia Orientalia 13.2; Paris, 1916), pp. 207–210 [317–320]. For further comments on the excerpted

88

zellmann-rohrer

PaM

Pr2

StP4

StP18

StPS1

45 46 47 48

[Paris,] once in the collection of Frédéric Macler (1869–1938). Paper, 11×8cm, 41ff. Unvocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1793 by the archdeacon Elijah son of the late Stephan, grandson of the presbyter Simon, great-grandson of the presbyter Ṯlāyâ, great-greatgrandson of the presbyter Jacob, from Mawānâ (Tergāwār region), residing in Gûlpāšā in the territory of Urmia, probably the same copyist as LoA17. Book of Protection (title not recorded; probably contained 焏‫ ܕܐܘܢܓܠܣ̈ܛ‬焏‫ܡ‬犯‫ )ܚ‬with at least 39 sections and illustrations. Unpublished (not collated); description and partial translation by F. Macler.45 Princeton, Firestone Library, Princeton Syriac 2. Paper, 6.8 × 4.4 cm, 54ff. Colophon lacking; assigned to the 18th century and said to come from ‘Doon Mountain, Nestorian Kurdistan’.46 Book of Protection (焏‫ܪܝ‬熏‫ ܕܢܛ‬焏‫ܡ‬犯‫ )ܚ‬with 56 sections. Unpublished (collated). St. Petersburg, Institute of Oriental Studies, Osnovnoy fond 4. Paper, 10.5×6.5cm, 40ff. Unvocalised East Syriac. Colophon lacking; assigned to the 17th–18th century (Pigulevskaya); later ownership notes of swlqʾ, of John son of Tērô, and of Saggô son of Merzâ. Book of Protection (焏‫ ܢܫ‬營̈‫ ܒܢ‬犯‫ܛ‬熏‫ܐ ܕܢ‬狏‫ܝܒ‬狏‫ )ܟ‬with 46 sections and illustrations. Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by N.V. Pigulevskaya.47 St. Petersburg, National Library of Russia, Siriyskaya novaya seria 18. Paper loose leaves, 34×21cm, 8ff. Unvocalised East Syriac. Colophon lacking; assigned to the 19th century (Pigulevskaya); presented in 1882 by Yakov Khodjamiryan of Shusha. Book of Protection (‫ܐ‬犯‫ܛ‬熏‫ ܕܢ‬焏‫ܒ‬狏‫ )ܟ‬with 30 sections and illustrations. Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by N.V. Pigulevskaya.48 St. Petersburg, private collection Sado no. 1. Paper, 7.9 × 6.4 cm, 74ff. Occasionally vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1714 in Seʾwînê in the

text see recently K. Panegyres, ‘Notes on a Nestorian Spell against Headaches’, Mnemosyne 69 (2016), pp. 491–502. ‘Formules magiques’. Typescript card from the Ohio Historical Society accompanying the manuscript when presented to the Princeton University Library. ‘Catalogue of Syriac Manuscripts in Leningrad’ (in Russian), Palestinskii Sbnornik 6(69) (1960), pp. 3–196 (124–128 no. 39), counting only 38 sections. ‘Catalogue’, pp. 128–130 no. 40, counting only 24 sections.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

StPS5

StPS6

StPS11

StPS14

StPS20

49

50 51 52 53

89

district of Barwār by Elijah son of Hôrmîzd. Book of Protection (title not recorded). Unpublished (not collated); mentioned by H. Teule and G. Kessel.49 St. Petersburg, private collection Sado no. 5. Paper convolute of two manuscripts, 11×6.5cm, 106ff. Occasionally vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1791 in Agǧaǧ in the district of Māmēdayê by a priest whose name has been erased; later ownership inscription of Mary daughter of the presbyter Rašûʾâ. Two separate manuscripts of the Book of Protection (titles not recorded). Unpublished (not collated); mentioned by H. Teule and G. Kessel.50 St. Petersburg, private collection Sado no. 6. Paper, 7.8 × 6.5 cm, 34ff. Occasionally vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1893 by Barḥô son of Qaṭînâ; personalised in part for Ḥarlampî Nasîmû. Book of Protection (title not recorded). Unpublished (not collated); mentioned by H. Teule and G. Kessel.51 St. Petersburg, private collection Sado no. 11. Paper, 10.5 × 10.0 cm, 56ff. Occasionally vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1905 by the deacon Miškâ in Sāmāwāt in the region of bryḥk. Book of Protection (爯‫ ܢܟ̈ܝܢܝ‬爏‫ ܟ‬爯‫ܐ ܡ‬犯‫ܛ‬熏‫ܙܐ ܕܢ‬犯‫)ܚ‬. Unpublished (not collated); mentioned by H. Teule and G. Kessel.52 St. Petersburg, private collection Sado no. 14. Paper, 10.5 × 10.0 cm, 37ff. Unvocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1907 in Hûzê by the deacon Samuel son of Rûbel grandson of the deacon Simon. Book of Protection (title not recorded). Unpublished (not collated); mentioned by H. Teule and G. Kessel.53 St. Petersburg, private collection Sado no. 20. Paper, 11 × 10.5 cm, 98ff. Vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1922 by Ḥaggô son of Joseph Ḥagîgnāyâ; personalised in part for one ḥwšbʾ son of nzʾ. Book

‘The Mikhail Sado Collection of Syriac Manuscripts in St. Petersburg’, in J.-P. MontferrerSala, H. Teule and S. Torallas Tovar (eds), Eastern Christians and Their Written Heritage: Manuscripts, Scribes and Context (Leuven, 2012), pp. 43–76 (48–49). Two treatises on lot divination may also be noted, described at pp. 53–54 no. 7 and 70 no. 27, the latter also containing ‘[t]wo charms, written in a negligent hand’. As Teule and Kessel confined themselves in the interest of time to dated manuscripts in this collection, further relevant material may remain to be catalogued there. ‘Mikhail Sado Collection’, pp. 52–53. ‘Mikhail Sado Collection’, p. 53. ‘Mikhail Sado Collection’, p. 57. ‘Mikhail Sado Collection’, p. 59.

90

zellmann-rohrer

StPS26

Vi7

Ye10

Ye19

3.2 Be1

54 55 56 57 58

of Protection (title not recorded), ff. 1a–40a, bound with a liturgical collection in Neo-Aramaic. Unpublished (not collated); mentioned by H. Teule and G. Kessel.54 St. Petersburg, private collection Sado no. 26. Paper, 16.1 × 9.0 cm, 32ff. Vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1932 in Urmia by Aḥtyar son of Yawilihâ. Book of Protection (title not recorded), ff. 1a–25b, followed by miscellaneous liturgical-homiletic material. Unpublished (not collated); mentioned by H. Teule and G. Kessel.55 Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek cod. syr. 7. Paper, 7.5×6cm, 56ff. Copied in 1826 by the deacon ʿAbdîšôʿ alias Dādôy son of Aaron from Qaššîšâ glby, resident of Gol Tappeh (possibly the same family as the copyist of ny2941/3). Later ownership notes of pkw son of Gawzel. Book of Protection (焏‫ܫ‬犯‫ܐ ܡܦ‬狏‫ܝܒ‬狏‫ܟ‬ 焏‫ ܐܢܫ‬犯‫ܐ ܕܒ‬狏‫ )ܕܥܠܝ‬with 57 sections and illustrations. Unpublished (collated); mentioned by S. Grill.56 Yerevan, Matenadaran Institute Syriac ms. 10. Paper, 11 × 8 cm, 46 ff. Copied in 1748/9 in Gāwar (Perāzlan) by the presbyter Sûlāqâ, cousin of the bishop John of Azerbaijan, from Alṣān; later ownership notes of ʿAnûšābâ son of Tawmwê and Mûraṯ (effaced) daughter of same. Book of Protection (焏‫ ܐܢܫ‬營̈‫ܘܢ ܒܢ‬煿‫ܐ ܕܟܠ‬犯‫ܛ‬熏‫)ܢ‬ with 52 sections. Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by E.N. Mescherskaya.57 Yerevan, Matenadaran Institute Syriac ms. 19. Paper, 8 × 5.5 cm, 46ff. Colophon lacking; assigned to the 18th century (Mescherskaya); later ownership notes of John son of snq and of m(y)dyl son of nzlw. Book of Protection (lacking beginning including the title) with 48 sections. Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by E.N. Mescherskaya.58 Related Material in Larger Codices Berlin, Staatsbibliothek Sachau 1. Paper, 31.5 × 21 cm, 88 ff. Vocalised East Syriac. Ebedjesus, Paradise of Eden copied in 1648 by the

‘Mikhail Sado Collection’, p. 64. ‘Mikhail Sado Collection’, p. 69. ‘Die Syrischen Handschriften der Nationalbibliothek in Wien’, in Vergleichende Religionsgeschichte und Kirchenväter (Horn, 1959), pp. 54–58 (57–58). ‘The Syrian Manuscripts of Protection in Matenadaran’ (in Russian), Palestinskii Sbornik n.s. 27 (1981), pp. 93–105 (96–101). ‘Syrian Manuscripts of Protection’, pp. 101–103.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

Be218

Be327

Ca1167

CaH161

59 60

61 62

91

deacon Gabriel of Tell Kêf; later addition by the deacon George, son of the presbyter and deacon ʿAbdîšôʿ and grandson of the presbyter ʿAbdâ, at f. 1a of a formula for an incantation to cure scorpion-sting, published by E. Sachau.59 Berlin, Staatsbibliothek Sachau 218. Paper, 22× 16 cm, 238ff. Unvocalised Serto. Theological miscellany copied in 1847 in Midyat by the priest Simeon son of the priest Šabbaw of the family of Bêt Laʿzar; later ownership notes in Arabic of his son the deacon Šabû. At ff. 176a–178a, 36 prescriptions of Psalms for amuletic and other magical purposes follow a set of glosses on the Psalter (ff. 103b–176a). Published by C. Kayser.60 Berlin, Staatsbibliothek Sachau 327. Paper, 17.5× 13cm, 164ff. Vocalised Serto. Barhebraeus, Book of Rays; assigned to the 16th– 17th century (Sachau); ownership note of a monk Zaytūn at the church of St Cyriacus in Anḥal (vicinity of Midyat) in 1843. A later addition at ff. 163b–164a (unvocalised Serto) gives ten prescriptions of Psalms for amuletic and other magical purposes. Unpublished (collated); described by E. Sachau.61 Cambridge, University Library Add. Ms. 1167. Paper, 20 × 15 cm, 198ff. Colophon lacking; acquired in southern India (Malabar), assigned to the 18th century (Wright). Three sections in the tradition of the Book of Protection (ff. 7b–8a) copied in a liturgical miscellany. Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by W. Wright, with mention of the ‘charms’ by J.P.M. van der Ploeg.62 Cambridge, MA, Houghton Library Ms. Syr. 161. Paper, 11 × 8 cm, 34ff. Vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1848/9; later ownership note of a deacon ʿAwdîšôʿ; probably from the region of Urmia, where it was acquired in 1890. Excerpts from the Book of Protection (untitled) in 14 sections, mixed with other material on medicine

Verzeichniss, p. 274. ‘Gebrauch von Psalmen zur Zauberei’, Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft 42 (1888), pp. 456–462 with D. Simonsen, ‘Ein Nachtrag zu der Abhandlung ünrt. “Gebrauch von Psalmen zur Zauberei”’, Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft 42 (1888), pp. 693–694; on the codex see further Sachau, Verzeichniss, pp. 609–616 no. 188. Verzeichniss, pp. 625–627 no. 192. Catalogue, i, pp. 5–6; The Christians of St. Thomas in South India and Their Syriac Manuscripts (Bangalore, 1983), pp. 223–224 no. 26.

92

zellmann-rohrer

Ch12093

Di225

Lo2084

Lo4434

63 64 65 66

and divination in multiple hands. Unpublished (collated); mentioned by M.H. Goshen-Gottstein.63 Chicago, Oriental Institute reg. no. A12093 (accession no. 854 A). Paper, 7×5cm, 144ff. Partially vocalised East Syriac. Colophon lacking; assigned to the 19th century (Clemons) and once kept at the American Mission, Urmia, in whose vicinity it was probably copied. Large miscellany on divination, the material of interest falling within an untitled gathering of recipes (pp. 179– 187). Unpublished (collated); mentioned by J.T. Clemons,64 it may be identified with a manuscript described earlier by O. Sarau while still in Urmia.65 Diyarbakir, Meryem Ana Kilisesi 225 (11/3). Paper, 11.5 × 9.5 cm. 834ff. Unvocalised Serto. Copied in 1901 in Amida by the deacon Jacob son of Joseph, for whom some sections are personalised, with mention of his mother Arôš. Material in the tradition of the Book of Protection dispersed within a large collection of prayers in Syriac and Garshuni. Unpublished (collated); preliminary catalogue entry by G. Kessel for the vhmml project. London, British Library Ms. Or. 2084. Paper, 9 × 5 cm, 68 ff. Vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1755/6 in Darband (Tergawar region) by the presbyter Wardâ son of the late Laʿzar, commissioned by Abraham son of Ḥāwšābâ of Zannê on behalf of the monastery of Mar John. A single recipe in the tradition of the Book of Protection in a miscellany with a focus on divination; bound with a fragment of an unrelated codex with a treatise on dreaminterpretation. Unpublished (collated); the codex was briefly described by G. Margoliouth, with two treatises on divination by palmomancy (ff. 42a–45a) published by G. Furlani.66 London, British Library Ms. Or. 4434. Paper, 23× 15 cm, 110 ff. Serto with occasional vocalisation in mixed East and West Syrian forms. Colophon lacking; assigned to the 19th century (Margoliouth), probably from Urmia. Miscellany with a focus on divina-

Syriac Manuscripts, p. 104. ‘Checklist’, p. 480 no. 192. Catalogue of Syriac Manuscripts in the Library of the Museum Association of Oroomiah College (in Syriac) (Oroomiah 1898), p. 17 no. 85. Descriptive List of Syriac and Karshuni Mss. in the British Museum Acquired since 1873 (London, 1899), p. 3; ‘Due trattati palmomantici in siriaco’, Rendiconti della Reale Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei, Classe di scienze morali, storiche e filologiche 26 (1917), pp. 719–732.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

Lo5281

Lo5442

67 68 69 70

71

93

tion including medical prognosis, astrology and dream-interpretation, medical recipes and a collection in the tradition of the Book of Protection (untitled, ff. 10b–41a; but sub-titles f. 17a, ‫ܬܘܒ‬ 焏‫ ܫܪܝܢ‬爏‫ ܩܠܝ‬爯‫ܒܝܢ‬狏‫ܐ ܟ‬ ̈ 煿‫ ܐܠ‬煟‫ ;ܒܝ‬f. 39b, 爏‫ ܩܠܝ‬爯‫ܒܝܢ‬狏‫ܬܘܒ ܟ‬ ‫ܡ‬煟‫ ܡ‬爏‫ ܠܟ‬爯‫ܬܐ ܕܚܫ̈ܚ‬熏‫)ܨܠ‬. Unpublished (collated); mentioned by G. Margoliouth,67 with a treatise on palmomancy at ff. 9a–10b published by G. Furlani.68 The manuscript is perhaps the ‘Ketava dechoudayi’ seen in the possession of a Christian from Urmia in Paris by F. Macler, who reported that it was then taken to England.69 London, British Library Ms. Or. 5281. Paper, 38× 23cm, 146 ff. Vocalised East Syriac. Copied in November of an unrecorded year by the presbyter Yāwnan son of Asrandar grandson of srḥbš from mzrʿʾ, assigned to the 18th century (Margoliouth). Collection of material in the tradition of the Book of Protection (ff. 2a– 41b) with 61 sections, following a treatise on medical prognostics (originally a fragment of a separate codex); the codex contains further works on divination and astrology and a copy of the Book of the Bee. Unpublished (collated); an excerpt (f. 9a) was given by F. Nau, who also published a treatise on divination from chance encounters with animals (ff. 41b–42a), which was independently re-published by G. Furlani, and the codex was briefly described by G. Margoliouth.70 London, British Library Ms. Or 5442. Paper, 7 × 5 cm, 153 ff. Unvocalised Serto. Colophon lacking; assigned to the 16th–17th century (Margoliouth); according to a penned note, acquired from a ‘Rev. Y.M. Neesan’ in 1898, presumably the missionary Yaroo M. Neesan (1853–1937).71 A single recipe in the tradition of the Book of Protection among miscellaneous medical recipes in a

Descriptive List, p. 42. ‘Ancora un trattato palmomantico in lingua siriaca’, Rendiconti della Reale Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei, Classe di scienze morali, storiche e filologiche 27 (1918), pp. 316–328. Macler, ‘Formules magiques’, pp. 9–10. ‘Nestorius et la magie’, Revue de l’ Orient chrétien ser. 3, 1 (1918), pp. 214–216 (the procedure seeks the ‘release’ or ‘loosening’ (焏‫ܝܢ‬犯‫ )ܫ‬of a married couple from hostile magic, not their separation as Nau thought); ‘Due trattati palmomantici in siriaco’, pp. 731–732; Descriptive List, p. 49. J.F. Coakley, ‘Yaroo M. Neesan, “A Missionary to His Own People”’, aram 5 (1993), pp. 87– 100; Neesan’s visit to the United Kingdom in 1897–1898 resulted in the sale of at least one other manuscript, to Oxford’s Bodleian Library (ibid. pp. 93–94).

94

zellmann-rohrer

Ma44

Mar22

Pa424–425

72

73

codex mostly concerned with astrology and other divination. Unpublished (collated); the codex was briefly described by G. Margoliouth, with material on divination by chance encounters (ff. 3b–23a) published by G. Furlani.72 Manchester, John Rylands Library, Syriac 44. Paper, 22.5× 16.5 cm, 134ff. Unvocalised East Syriac. Colophon lacking; assigned to the 16th–18th century (Coakley). Small gathering of formulae (untitled, ff. 25b–28a) in a large miscellany on astrology and other forms of divination bound in turn with an unrelated unit. Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by J.F. Coakley.73 Mardin, Chaldean Cathedral 22. Paper, 31 × 21.5 cm, 164ff. Partially vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1681 by George son of Isaac of Bêt Gûdô for the presbyter David Baḥdô of Mardin. Single section (to ease birth) in an anonymous gathering of medical recipes (ff. 163b–164a) within a grammatical miscellany in a mixture of Syriac and Garshuni. Unpublished (collated); preliminary catalogue entry by A. McCollum for the vhmml project. Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France syr. 424–425. Paper, 33.8×22.0cm, 485ff. (now in two volumes). Vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1900 in Alqoš by the priest Elijah, son of the deacon Hômô, grandson of the deacon Isaiah, great-grandson of the presbyter Hômô, great-great-grandson of the presbyter Ḥannâ, great-great-great-grandson of the presbyter Hômô, great-greatgreat-great-grandson of the presbyter Daniel, great-great-greatgreat-great-grandson of the presbyter Elijah, great-great-greatgreat-great-great-grandson of the presbyter Daniel, from the family of the Bêṯ Naṣrô. Miscellaneous collection on medicine (the majority of the content, the entire first volume and continuing through f. 68b of the second) and the occult sciences (chiefly, astrology and other forms of divination); the material of interest is in a gathering of formulae for amulets and related ritual procedures in the tradition of the Book of Protection, ff. 254b–267a (titled 焏‫ܢܩܢ‬熏‫ ܣ‬爯‫ܝ‬煿‫ ܥܠܝ‬狏‫ܡ ܕܐܝ‬煟‫ܡ ܡ‬煟‫ܐ ܕܡ‬狏‫̈ܝܒ‬狏‫ ;ܟ‬end-

‘Due trattatelli enodiomantici in siriaco’, Rendiconti della Reale Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei, Classe di scienze morali, storiche e filologiche 28 (1919), pp. 355–366; Descriptive List, p. 49. ‘Catalogue’, pp. 168–171.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

Va469

95

title ‫ܡ‬煟‫ܡ ܡ‬煟‫ܐ ܕܡ‬狏‫̈ܝܒ‬狏‫)ܟ‬. Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by F. Briquel-Chatonnet.74 Vatican, Bibliotheca Apostolica Vaticana Vat. sir. 469, f. 155. Fragment from a paper manuscript (c. 14 × 8 cm) in vocalised East Syriac, re-used in the binding of an unrelated codex copied in 1804 in Alqoš; assigned to the 16th–17th century (Zellmann-Rohrer). The text gives part of a procedure for divination by requesting a significant dream, with Syriac rubrics and partly Garshuni invocation; published by M. Zellmann-Rohrer.75

3.3 Amulets (Finished Products) Av3858 Avignon, Bibliothèque du Musée Calvet Ms. 3858. Paper roll, 166×6.4cm. Unvocalised Serto. Personalised for ʿbdlkrm, identified by his mother’s name ḥwby; one section seeks good relations between him and two associates yqwbšʾ and ʾstdwr, both sons of mothers named Eve; assigned to the 16th century (Desreumaux and Gorea). Unpublished (collated); mentioned by J.-B. Chabot with a fuller description by A. Desreumaux and M. Gorea.76 BeZ Berlin, private collection (P. Zabel). Paper roll, 344 × 9 cm. Vocalised East Syriac. Originally personalised for Maria daughter of Martha (colophon) and qzbz daughter of Yāṣāman (internally), with added reference to Salbê daughter of Šaʿzādâ. Copied in 1842 by the deacon ʿAṣlan son of Mûḥtas. Published by S. Talay, S. Rudolf, and Y. Kouriyhe.77

74

75 76

77

Manuscrits syriaques de la Bibliothèque nationale de France (nos 356–435 entrés depuis 1911), de la Bibliothèque Méjanes d’Aix-en-Provence, de la Bibliothèque municipale de Lyon et de la Bibliothèque nationale et universitaire de Strasbourg (Paris, 1997), pp. 164–166; the identification of the portion containing the material of interest (syr. 425, ff. 108a–275b) as ‘[le m]ême texte que’ that published by E.A.W. Budge in Syrian Anatomy, Pathology and Therapeutics or, The Book of Medicines: The Syriac Text, Edited from a Rare Manuscript, with an English Translation (2 vols; London, 1913) is inaccurate; Budge’s manuscript (now London, British Library Ms. Or. 9360) contains nothing comparable to the material edited here (for its meagre contribution to the tradition of the ‘charms’ see Zellmann-Rohrer, ‘DreamRequest’, pp. 64–65). ‘Dream-Request’, pp. 59–74. Ap. L.-H. Labande, Manuscrits de la bibliothèque d’Avignon, vol. iii.1 (Paris, 1897), p. 484; in F. Briquel-Chatonnet et al., Manuscrits chrétiens du Proche-Orient (Arles, 2003), pp. B16– B17. ‘Ein neues syrisch-aramäisches Amulett’, Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft 170 (2020), pp. 289–308.

96

zellmann-rohrer

Bei1

Bei2

CaH158

CaH159

CaH165

Ki1

Ki2

78 79 80

81 82 83

Beirut, National Museum of Lebanon [no. 1]. Paper slip, 14 × 9 cm. Unvocalised Estrangelo-Serto hybrid. Found in a burial in Hadath Cave (Qadisha, Lebanon). Personalised for David son of Yasmîn, dated before 1283 (archaeological context). Published by G. Abousamra.78 Beirut, National Museum of Lebanon [no. 2]. Paper slip, 22× 19cm. Unvocalised Estrangelo-Serto hybrid. Found in a burial in Hadath Cave (Qadisha, Lebanon). Personalisation lacking; dated before 1283 (archaeological context). Published by G. Abousamra.79 Cambridge, MA, Houghton Library Ms. Syr. 158. Paper roll, 127× 7cm. Partially vocalised East Syriac. Colophon and personalisation lacking; assigned to the 18th–19th century (Hunter), probably from the region of Urmia, where it was acquired in 1890. Published by E.C.D. Hunter.80 Cambridge, MA, Houghton Library Ms. Syr. 159. Paper roll, 200 × 6cm. Partially vocalised East Syriac. Colophon lacking; personalised for Šûšâ son of Yasmeh, probably from the region of Urmia, where it was acquired in 1890. Unpublished (collated).81 Cambridge, MA, Houghton Library Ms. Syr. 165. Paper roll, 200 × 6cm. Vocalised East Syriac. Colophon lacking; assigned to the 18th–19th century (Hazard) and probably from the region of Urmia, where it was acquired in 1890. Personalised for one Gawzâ daughter of Šîmâ. Published by W.H. Hazard.82 [Kirkuk?,] private coll. Yousif Mirkis, Ar. no. 1. Paper roll, 23.3× 8 cm. Copied by Sûlākâ son of bytw from wltw (or bltw); dated before 1915 (Mirkis). Unpublished (not collated); description and translation by Y. Mirkis.83 [Kirkuk?,] private coll. Yousif Mirkis, Ar. no. 2. Paper roll, dimensions not recorded. Copied by the deacon Simon; said to have

‘Two Syriac Amulets from Hadath Grotto (Qadisha)’, in Actes du 11e Symposium Syriacum (La Valette, Malte, juillet 2012) (Kaslik, 2013), pp. 213–230 (215–219 no. 1). ‘Two Syriac Amulets’, pp. 220–222 no. 2. ‘Another Scroll Amulet from Kurdistan’, in G.J. Reinink and A.C. Klugkist (eds), After Bardaisan: Studies on Continuity and Change in Syriac Christianity in Honour of Professor Han J.W. Drijvers (Leuven, 1999), pp. 161–171. Wrongly identified by Goshen-Gottstein, Syriac Manuscripts, p. 108 n. 3 as the amulet published by Hazard (see below). ‘A Syriac Charm’. Étude, pp. 55–68.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

Ki3

LoA15

LoA16

ny2941/4

Ox3

Ye72a

84 85 86 87 88 89

97

been copied ca. 1907 (Mirkis). Unpublished (not collated); description by Y. Mirkis.84 [Kirkuk?,] private coll. Yousif Mirkis, Ar. no. 3. Paper roll, dimensions not recorded. Copied by the presbyter sydʾ; undated. Unpublished (not collated); description by Y. Mirkis.85 London, private collection E.M. Assad. Paper roll, 90 × 8 cm. Occasionally vocalised East Syriac. Copied for Asmar daughter of Sēyēh, later effaced in favour of slbʾ daughter of trmnh, assigned to the 18th century (Assad). Unpublished; catalogue description by E.M. Assad.86 London, private collection E.M. Assad. Paper roll, 500 × 10 cm. Unvocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1707 in the village qwgnwṣ. Placeholders, some indicating a female client, have not been filled in; a later hand has added an Arabic version of the closing acclamation of one of the sections (‫)امين وامين‬. Unpublished; catalogue description by E.M. Assad.87 New York, Public Library, MssCol 2941 vol. 4. Paper roll, 225× 8.7 cm. Vocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1813 by the presbyter Zerwandad son of Safar, nephew of John, bishop and hegumen of the Monastery of Mar Ezekiel near Rôstāqâ (who also copied the Book of Protection manuscript Bi583: see 3.1 above) for trḥnm daughter of Asmar, wife of ʿÎṣâ son of glby, from grbš; later personalisation for ʿAzlû son of Sārâ. Unpublished (collated); catalogue description by I. Bcheiry.88 Oxford, Bodleian Library Ms. syr. g 3 (R). Paper roll, 122.5× 7.75cm. Occasionally vocalised East Syriac. Copied by one Joseph for trzn daughter of ḥnzdʾ (corrected from zrdʾ throughout); assigned to the late 18th–early 19th century and the Hakkari region (Hunter). Published by E.C.D. Hunter.89 Yerevan, Matenadaran Institute Syriac rot. 72a. Paper roll, 258 × 8cm. Unvocalised East Syriac. Copied in 1755 in ggwrn by the

Étude, pp. 55–68. Étude, pp. 55–68. Pearls from Heaven, pp. 46–47 no. 15. Pearls from Heaven, pp. 48–53 no. 16 (the reading of the names of a copyist and a client in the colophon is not supported by the photographs). ‘Syriac Manuscripts’, pp. 157–159. ‘A Scroll Amulet from Kurdistan’, aram 5 (1993), pp. 243–254.

98

zellmann-rohrer

Ye72b

Ye9–90

priest ʿAbdîšôʿ son of the late qwrgybg and nephew of the schoolmaster John. Unpublished (not collated); catalogue description by E.N. Mescherskaya.90 Yerevan, Matenadaran Institute Syriac rot. 72b. Paper roll, 218 × 8cm. Vocalised East Syriac. Colophon and personalisation lacking. Unpublished (not collated); catalogue description by E.N. Mescherskaya.91 Yerevan, Matenadaran Institute rot. 9–90. Fragmentary paper roll, 115.8×5.5cm. Occasionally vocalised East Syriac. Colophon lacking; personalised for Sarah daughter of Elšābâ. Published by A.B. Schmidt and G. Abousamra.92

3.4 Bei6

Annex: Pre- (or Early) Medieval Amulets Present location unknown, acquired in Beirut in 1925 by C. Virolleaud. Silver sheet, 10×6cm. Unvocalised Estrangelo. Adjuration of brtʾwn (perhaps an Aramaic-Greek hybrid, son of the gods (θεῶν)), ‘mighty lord, holy one of god’ seeking the ‘release’ of a particular demon with an Iranian-sounding name (ṭrpsdk); assigned to Late Antiquity (Naveh and Shaked). Published most recently by J. Naveh and Sh. Shaked.93 Ca2480 Cambridge, University Library ms. Or. 2480. Single vellum leaf, 16 ×8.5cm. Unvocalised Estrangelo. Written on one side and folded up as an amulet for one kwrwhzʾd alias yzdʾnzʾdg daughter of dynq, identified with the beneficiary of the three rolls making up Pa400 (above); described by J.F. Coakley.94 Je96–9173 Jerusalem, Israel Antiquities Authority accession no. 96–9173. Single vellum sheet, 14.5×7.5cm. Unvocalised Estrangelo. Written for an unnamed woman; assigned to Late Antiquity (Naveh);

90 91 92

93 94

‘Syrian Manuscripts of Protection’, pp. 103–104. ‘Syrian Manuscripts of Protection’, pp. 104–105. ‘Une amulette syriaque dans la collection du Matenadaran à Yerevan (rouleau 9–90)’, The Harp 29 (2014), pp. 143–164; their suggestion that the amulet is from the region of Urmia, not implausible in itself, is based on a misreading of the text at lines 144–150, which is in fact a reference to Christ’s expulsion of the demon Legion from ‘him who was living among the tombs’ into the water (Mark 5:1–20; Luke 8:26–39). Amulets and Magic Bowls: Aramaic Incantations of Late Antiquity, 3rd ed. (Jerusalem, 1998), pp. 62–69 no. 6. A Catalogue of the Syriac Manuscripts in Cambridge University Library and College Libraries Acquired since 1901 (Ely, 2018), pp. 156–158.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

LoA

Pa400

4

99

unknown provenance, once in the collection of Y. Yadin. Published by J. Naveh.95 London, private collection E.M. Assad. Opisthographic lead tablet, 25×8cm. Unvocalised Estrangelo in mirrored direction, the result of casting from a mould with text in the natural writing direction. Amulet internally termed ‘talisman’ (焏‫ )ܛܠܣܡ‬for protection of a field from pests and promotion of the fertility of its crops, personalised for Theophilus son of Sisinos; unknown provenance, assigned to the 9th century (Brock). Published by S. Brock.96 Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France syr. 400/1–3. Three vellum rolls, two tall and narrow (the larger 27.5× 9 cm) and one roughly square (18.5×19.5cm), at least one of which was once enclosed in a copper container. Unvocalised Estrangelo. Each roll is personalised for the same client, one kwrwhzʾd alias yzdʾnzʾdg, identified by her mother’s name dynq (as also Ca2480 above). Assigned to the 6th–7th centuries (Gignoux), apparently from a Persianspeaking area on onomastic grounds. Published by P. Gignoux, with new readings and discussion of syr. 400/3 by N.H. Korsvoll and L.I. Lied.97

Overview of Contents

The aim of ‘protection’ expressed by the title of the treatise at the centre of this tradition is well borne out by its contents, applied to a broad range of ills.98 These include specific symptoms—fever, headache, toothache, backache, bleeding, indigestion, pleurisy, boils, rabies, insomnia, nightmares, difficult childbirth—, broader designations such as ‘all sickness’, and the effects of demonic possession and the evil eye. The protection extends to that of livestock, crops, and land, and to crises such as risky voyages and military and legal combat, with related goals of keeping the peace among households and comrades and of personal advancement through success in public life and business. The means include simple prayer close to the realms of liturgy and private

95 96 97 98

‘Syriac Amulet’. ‘Syriac Protective Talisman’. Incantations magiques syriaques (Louvain, 1987); ‘Enoch and Baruch: Unusual Suspects in a Syriac Amulet’, Journal of Near Eastern Studies 75 (2016), pp. 349–360. See in general E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Amulets and the Assyrians of Kurdistan’, Journal of the Assyrian Academic Society 9.2 (1995), pp. 25–29.

100

zellmann-rohrer

devotion and matching the rubric ‫ܬܐ‬熏‫ ܨܠ‬applied by the manuscripts themselves, but not to the exclusion of invocations with more diverse elements— metaphor, narrative, direct address to the targets rather than appeals to holy intermediaries—from the realm of incantations. Such texts may also be inscribed to be worn as amulets or uttered over medicinal substances, and the illustrations furnished in many of the witnesses, figuring both protective saints and malevolent demons, may be intended as models to be copied for apotropaic purposes, though this is nowhere made explicit. The amulets follow a similar course, with a narrower focus on personal protection against sickness and demonic assault. The intersection of the ‘Book of Protection’ with other ritual, medicinal, and divinatory texts is already anticipated by a paratext to that treatise in the form published by Gollancz (G. A §54; see also 5 below). It offers medical prognostics based on a calculation applied to the sum of the numeric values of the letters of the names of the patient and his or her mother: the results are keyed to diagnoses of the sources of the illness and prescriptions for cures, which include visiting specific monasteries to seek textual amulets. The witnesses described under 3.2 above take this development further: situated in miscellaneous codices, they concern themselves with a more diverse group both of aims, aggressive as well as beneficent—as occasionally even in some witnesses to the ‘Book of Protection’ proper—, a selection of which is discussed in 5 below, and of means, for example, miniature ritual dramas distinct from simple prayers and phylacteries. Because many of the manuscripts were subject to one or more layers of personalisation, changed hands among owners, and recorded also the names of copyists, they can be recognised as products and possessions of specific individuals and places, even if these often remain only names. Onomastics would indeed repay further study for clues of ethnic origins and affiliations. The presence of transliterated Arabic in some of the ‘charms’ (e.g. G. A § 19; Lo 4434 §§ 51, 90; Lo6673 §64) may provide a sign of linguistic diversity among participants in the tradition, and perhaps even the sharing of ritual texts among Christian and Muslim practitioners and clients, as implied by the episode of the dairy cow reported by Perkins. The internal use of the Arabic loanword 爟‫‘ ܛܠܣ‬talisman’ to designate some of the formulae (e.g. Lo6673 §§ 54–55 and the title of Bi583) may point in this direction, though the term is ultimately Greek (and it appears at an early stage already in LoA). More positive evidence is the use of Arabic pseudo-script among some magical designs to which apotropaic power is imputed (Pa347 §§10, 16, 33).99 99

For the tradition of these signs in the West see R. Gordon, ‘Charaktêres Between Antiquity

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

101

Across these documents, a thorough integration with contemporary Christian faith and practice can be observed, which again makes problematic any application of the term ‘magic’, however convenient for interdisciplinary dialogues in modern scholarship. A lively and diverse cult of saints underpins the attribution of amuletic prayers to these figures, their presence in narrative motifs in incantations, and closing invocations of their prayer and intercession. The adaptation of scripture may also be mentioned, especially the Psalms, for which parallel developments at the centre of magical practices can be traced for both Christian and Jewish traditions in the area and further west.100 Some inventive compositions can already be found in the material published by Gollancz, such as Psalm 29:7 with elements of the prophecies against Gog and Magog from Ezekiel 38:2–6 and against Capernaum from the gospels (Matthew 11:23, Luke 10:15) in G. A §16,101 and more will be met further on in this chapter. Two full-standing treatises (Be218 and Be327) are devoted to the application of the Psalms in this respect. This sample, small in comparison to the Jewish Sefer Shimmush Tehillim and its medieval Greek counterparts, is still sufficient to establish, despite the scornful assessment of Kayser,102 a sound analogical connection between the prescribed Psalms and their applications, which demonstrates a deep and active acquaintance with scripture. Such a mentality can be confirmed by hagiography, as in an episode in the Book of Governors in which Elijah, bishop of Mokan, invokes an analogy in citing Psalm 29:5 and

100

101

102

and the Renaissance: Transmission and Re-Invention’, in V. Dasen and Jean-Michel Spieser (eds), Les savoirs magiques et leur transmission de l’Antiquité à la Renaissance (Florence, 2014), pp. 253–300. Their study in Syriac texts, where they appear already in the early amulets (Ca2480 Je96–9173 Pa400/1), remains to be developed; for a recent discussion see Zellmann-Rohrer, ‘Dream-Request’, and for the possibility of a relation to non-phonetic characters on the amuletic bowls, D.J. Waller, ‘Curious Characters, Invented Scripts, and … Charlatans? “Pseudo-Scripts” in the Mesopotamian Magic Bowls’, Journal of Near Eastern Studies 78 (2019), pp. 119–139. See recently M. Zellmann-Rohrer, ‘ “Psalms Useful for Everything:” Byzantine and PostByzantine Manuals for the Amuletic Use of the Psalter’, Dumbarton Oaks Papers 72 (2018), pp. 113–168, and for biblical references more generally, J.E. Sanzo and N.H. Korsvoll, ‘A New Testament Text on a Syriac Incantation Bowl: Eph. 6:10–17 on ibc 3’, Vigiliae Christianae 71 (2017), pp. 417–432. The versions in StP18 § 23, Ye10 § 30, and Ye19 § 18 confirm the emendation of 燿‫ ܕܡܢ‬to 燿‫ ܕܡܫ‬in the Ezekiel citation proposed by Gollancz; the concurrence of all the Syriac witnesses in 焏‫ ܬܘܪܓܡ‬against the Peshitta 爏‫ ܬܘܒܝ‬is also noteworthy. ‘Es ist umsonst, bei solchem Unsinn, wie dem vorliegenden, nach einem vernünftigen Grund zu suchen, und so lassen sich auch hier keine bestimmten Beziehungen zwischen den einzelnen Psalmen und den Dingen, wofür oder wogegen sie gut sein sollen, nachweisen’: ‘Gebrauch von Psalmen’, p. 459 n. 4.

102

zellmann-rohrer

9 when chopping down a local sacred tree of the Yazdis.103 The involvement of priests in the provisioning of ritual services informed by these documents, already recorded by Perkins and Badger and corresponding to the testimony of earlier Syriac literature,104 is extensively confirmed by their role as copyists of the manuscripts themselves on record in the colophons. This priestly connection does not prevent the conjunction of the Psalms with more original mythopoeia. A procedure to protect livestock from wolves pairs an excerpt from Psalm 19:13 with a claim that the wolf has been ‘gouged with the furrow that the ox ploughed, right up to the king’, perhaps yet another Solomonic allusion, and the event has been marked on the cosmic plane as ‘the seventy veils’, apparently heavenly, ‘have come down to earth’ (Lo5442 §1).

5

New Perspectives

The new manuscripts, both formulary codices and finished amulets, identified in the course of this study provide first and foremost a broader perspective on the history of the texts in question. The witnesses gained for the ‘Book of Protection’ can in turn be analysed into codicological families. It emerges that while Gollancz was prescient in giving pride of place to his codex A over B and C, a fourth manuscript (Lo6673) known to him but relegated to an appendix in favour of G. A is in fact a better representative of the majority, a group of some 11 codices (Be95 Be553 Bi583 CaH156 CaH160 Lo6673 ny2941/2 ny2941/3 PaM Pr2 Vi7 Ye10) that add a more or less similar set of formulae both within and after the main assemblage of G. A; there is much variation in turn on the presence and content of the medical prognostics by psephistics that forms the final section of G. A (§54), and which itself circulated independently.105 A class 103

104

105

5.11, ed. E.A.W. Budge, The Book of Governors: The Historia monastica of Thomas, Bishop of Margâ, a.d. 840 (London, 1893), p. 284.11–12, 犯‫ܐ ܘܡܥܩ‬狏‫ ܐ̈ܝܠ‬牟‫ܝ‬熟‫ ܕܡ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܕܡ‬爟‫ ܠ‬煿‫ܩܠ‬ 焏‫ܥ̈ܒ‬. Add also e.g. Nikitine, ‘Superstitions’, p. 160 no. 22: sacrifice of a lamb, over which a priest has read some prayers, to cure a sick child, and see in general the contribution of Gaby Abousamra to this volume; for the evidence from Syriac literature see M. Moriggi, ‘“And the Impure and Abominable Priests Fled for Help to the Names of the Devils”: Amulets and Magical Practices in Syriac Christian Culture between Late Antiquity and the Modern World’, Hugoye 19 (2016), pp. 371–384. See the multiple witnesses in Ma52 and a copy in a manuscript with no other relation to the tradition of the Book of Protection, Cambridge, MA, Houghton Library Ms. Syr. 166, pp. 58–60 (edited by I.H. Hall, ‘The Letter of Holy Sunday’, Journal of the American Oriental Society 15 (1893), pp. 121–142 (137–142), according to whom it was copied in 1885 from a ‘much older’ exemplar; see also Goshen-Gottstein, Syriac Manuscripts, p. 106). An

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

103

of extravagantes (Bi316 CaH162 CaH163 Ev1 Ma52 Mo417 nh3 Pa347 StP4 Ye19), with which G. B and G. C may also be grouped, presents only partial overlap with any of these or with each other, and no small number of additional formulae, some selections of which will be discussed below. There are, finally, intersections with substantially independent textual traditions of the larger collections of ritual recipes. The gathering of new witnesses also allows new readings and corrections to the Book of Protection as published by Gollancz. As a specimen, a re-edition of two texts is offered here. The case is also of interest as evidence of the relation between the ‘Book of Protection’ proper and collections of formulae in larger codices, which indicates a complex process of textual transmission. The first formula in question seeks to cure backache via an incantation containing a narrative motif in which King Solomon is afflicted with similar pain and cured in a manner analogous to the desired outcome after his cries of pain attract divine attention and aid (G. A §10). In the edition of Gollancz, the ending is apparently garbled and contains an incongruous reference to a saint with no relation to the narrative, one Mar Zîʿâ; Gollancz nevertheless attempted to make sense of it as follows: The Anathema of King Solomon, which is of avail for an injury (?) to the back. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost: and in the name of I Am That I Am, Almighty God, Adonai, Lord of Hosts. King Solomon was building the House to the name of the Lord, and the Holy Spirit was handing him the stone: Solomon stooped to take hold of the stone: he hurt (?) his back, his loin ruptured, and he gave forth a bitter cry. Whereupon our Lord said unto his disciples: What voice of crying is this? and they replied unto him: It is that of Solomon, the son of David, who is building the terrific, blessed House 焏‫ܐ ܙܝܥ‬狏‫]]ܒܝ‬. Amen! A fuller collation shows that the phrase that Gollancz rendered as ‘the terrific, blessed house’ is the result of an unintended juxtaposition of the stubs on either side of a large lacuna in his manuscript: ‫ܝ‬犯‫‘ ܡ‬Mar’ must be understood before 焏‫ܙܝܥ‬, which is a personal name, not an epithet of the ‘house’, and in turn an entirely separate section has fallen out in which Mar Zîʿâ is more

entirely different psephistic method, using diagrams related to the so-called ‘Sphere of Democritus’ of Late Antiquity (pgm xii.351–364), is preceded by an interesting prayer (rendering the trishagion acclamation in Greek, ‘Frankish’, Armenian, Georgian, Persian, Turkish, Arabic, and Syriac) among additions in the flyleaves of a theological miscellany, Mosul, Dominican Friars 121, f. 2a–b (unpublished).

104

zellmann-rohrer

at home, a prayer attributed to that saint against plague, which follows the Solomon incantation directly in several witnesses and is attested on its own in a few more. The witness to both texts in the codex designated here Lo6673, already known to Gollancz and offering, as argued here, the solution to this problem, was summarily dismissed: the Solomon text ‘repeats [itself in] part, evidently a case of dittography, and also adds the passage which “our Lord said to his disciples, Go to the garden and cut therefrom &c.”, contained in A § 20’,106 while the Mar Zîʿâ text, duly edited in his Appendix,107 is not brought to bear on the question. A hypothetical reconstruction of the shared ancestor of the surviving witnesses to both texts is offered here, which will make the point clearer; the witnesses most relevant to the filling of the lacuna where the Mar Zîʿâ text directly follows the Solomon text are Be95, Be553, Bi583, CaH156, CaH160, ny2941/3, Pr2, and StP18; in Lo6673 they keep this order but with a section corresponding to G. A §9 intervening. Solomon (G. A §10)

‫ܐ‬犯‫ ܘܒ‬焏‫ ܐܒ‬爟‫ ܒܫ‬.‫ܐ‬犏‫ ܕܚ‬焏‫ܘܩ‬犯‫ ܠܒ‬熯‫ ܕܚܫ‬焏‫ܢ ܡܠܟ‬熏‫ ܕܫܠܝܡ‬焏‫ܡ‬犯‫ܚ‬ .‫ܘܬ‬焏‫ ܨܒ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܡ‬營‫ܝ ܐܕܘܢ‬煟‫ ܐܠܫ‬煿̇‫ܗܝ‬犯‫ ܐܫ‬煿̇‫ ܐܗܝ‬爟‫ ܘܒܫ‬焏‫ܕܫ‬熏‫ ܕܩ‬焏‫ܘܪܘܚ‬ 5

10

焏‫ܦ‬焏‫ ܟ‬焏‫ܕܫ‬熏‫ ܘܪܘܚ ܩ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܕܡ‬煿‫ܐ ܠܫܡ‬狏‫ ܒܝ‬焏‫ܢ ܒܢ‬熏‫ ܫܠܝܡ‬焏‫ܡܠܟ‬ ‫ܗ‬犏‫ ܒܚ‬焏‫ܘܩ‬犯‫ܩ ܒ‬犯‫ ܘܒ‬焏‫ܦ‬焏‫ܠ ܟ‬熏‫ܢ ܕܢܫܩ‬熏‫ ܫܠܝܡ‬牯‫ ܟ‬.煿‫ ܠ‬焏‫ܫܛ‬熏‫ܡ‬ ‫ܢ‬犯‫ ܡ‬犯‫ܐ ܘܐܡ‬犯‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܘܡ‬焏‫ ܪܡ‬焏‫ ܒܩܠ‬犟‫ ܘܐܙܥ‬煿‫ܢ‬狏‫ ܡ‬狏‫ܘܦܩܥ‬ 犯‫ܢ ܒ‬熏‫ ܠܫܠܝܡ‬煿‫ ܠ‬爯‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܐܡ‬.‫ܐ ܗܕܐ‬狏‫ ܕܓܥ‬焏‫ ܗܢ‬焏‫ ܩܠ‬熏‫̈ܘܗܝ ܡܢ‬煟‫ܠܡܝ‬狏‫ܠ‬ 煿‫ ܠ‬焏‫ܫܛ‬熏‫ ܡ‬焏‫ܦ‬焏‫ ܟ‬焏‫ܕܫ‬熏‫ ܘܪܘܚ ܩ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܕܡ‬煿‫ܐ ܠܫܡ‬狏‫ ܒܝ‬焏‫ ܒܢ‬.煟‫ܕܘܝ‬ .煿‫ܢ‬狏‫ ܡ‬狏‫ܗ ܘܦܩܥ‬犏‫ ܒܚ‬焏‫ܘܩ‬犯‫ܩ ܒ‬犯‫ ܘܒ‬焏‫ܦ‬焏‫ܠ ܟ‬熏‫ܢ ܕܢܫܩ‬熏‫ ܫܠܝܡ‬牯‫ܘܟ‬ ̈ .焏‫̈ܩ‬熏‫ܐ ܫܒ‬狏‫ ܬܠ‬熏‫ܦ‬熏‫ܢ ܘܩܛ‬煟‫ ܥ‬狏‫ܬܘ ܠܓܢ‬熏‫ܘܗܝ ܚ‬煟‫ܠܡܝ‬狏‫ܢ ܠ‬犯‫ ܡ‬犯‫ܘܐܡ‬ 焏‫ܚ ܓܒ‬焏‫ ܘܢ‬焏‫ ܕܝܡܝܢ‬焏‫ ܠܓܒ‬焏‫ܢ‬犯‫ ܘܐܚ‬焏‫ ܘܠܫܡܝ‬焏‫ܪܥ‬焏‫ ܠ‬熏‫ ܡܚ‬煟‫ܚ‬ ‫̈ܕܐ‬熏‫ ܝ‬爯‫ ܕܛܥܝ‬焏‫ ܕܝܡܝܢ‬焏‫ܚ ܓܒ‬焏‫ ܘܢ‬焏‫ ܕܣܡܠ‬焏‫ ܠܓܒ‬焏‫ܢ‬犯‫ ܘܐܚ‬焏‫ܕܣܡܠ‬ .爯‫ܐ ܐܡܝ‬狏‫ܒܢܝ‬熏‫ ܛ‬爟‫ܝ‬犯‫ܬܝ ܡ‬犯‫ܬ ܡ‬熏‫ܠ‬犏‫ ܒ‬爯‫ܗܠܝ‬ Witnesses: Be95 § 11; Be553 § 11; Bi583 § 11; CaH156 §11 (personalised for a deacon Denḥâ son of Gawzâ); CaH160 § 10; CaH163 § 18; G. A § 10 (defective); Lo4434 §17; Lo6673 §9; Ma52 § 8; Mo417 § 56; ny2941/3 § 11; Pr2 § 12; StP18 § 29 (defective); Ye10 §§11 and 37 (with minor differences; only the former is adduced here); Ye19 §7 (with a truncated version also in § 20, not adduced here). [‫ܐ‬犏‫ ܕܚ‬焏‫ܘܩ‬犯‫ ܠܒ‬熯‫ ܕܚܫ‬焏‫ܢ ܡܠܟ‬熏‫ ܕܫܠܝܡ‬焏‫ܡ‬犯‫ ܚ‬1. || deficit StP18 usque ad ‫ܠ‬熏‫ ܕܢܫܩ‬1–4 Be553 Be95 .爏‫ ܫ‬.爏‫[ ܡ‬焏‫ܢ ܡܠܟ‬熏‫ | ܫܠܝܡ‬CaH163 Lo4434 Ma52 Mo417 焏‫ܝ‬犏‫ ܕܚ‬焏‫ܘܩ‬犯‫ܕܒ‬

106 107

Book of Protection, p. 94. Book of Protection, p. 103 (§ 11).

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

105

̈

G. A Ca160 ‫ܨܗ‬- [‫ܐ‬犏‫ | ܕܚ‬CaH156 -煯‫[ ܠܒ‬焏‫ܘܩ‬犯‫ | ܠܒ‬Bi583 CaH156 ny2941/3 Pr2 Ye10 Ye19 煿̇‫ | ܐܗܝ‬om. Ma52 [‫ܘܬ‬焏‫ … ܨܒ‬爟‫ | ܘܒܫ‬om. Lo4434 Mo417 [‫ܘܬ‬焏‫ )…( ܨܒ‬爟‫ ܒܫ‬1–2. || Lo6673 煿̇‫ ܐܗܝ‬焏‫ ܐܒ‬: Be553 ‫܇‬犯‫ ܐܫ‬焏‫ ܐܗܝ‬: Be95 CaH160 Pr2 焏‫ܗܝ‬犯‫ ܐܫ‬焏‫[ ܐܗܝ‬煿̇‫ܗܝ‬犯‫ܐܫ‬ Be95 ‫ܘܬ‬焏‫ ܨܫ‬焏‫ ܡܠܟ‬+ [‫ܘܬ‬焏‫ ܨܒ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ | ܡ‬ny2941/3 焏‫ܗܝ‬犯‫ ܐܫ‬煿‫ ܐܗܝ‬: CaH156 煿‫ܗܝ‬犯‫ܐܫ‬ 焏‫ | ܒܢ‬CaH163 Lo4434 Ma52 Mo417 煟‫ ܕܘܝ‬犯‫ ܒ‬.爏‫ܢ[ ܫ‬熏‫ ܫܠܝܡ‬焏‫ ܡܠܟ‬3. || CaH156 ‫ܘܒ‬焏‫ ܨܒ‬: Mo417 煿‫[ ܠ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܕܡ‬煿‫ | ܠܫܡ‬Lo4434 Mo417 焏‫ܐ ܒܢ‬狏‫ ܒܝ‬: Ye10 Ye19 ‫ܐ‬狏‫ ܒܝ‬煿‫ ܠ‬焏‫ܐ[ ܒܢ‬狏‫ܒܝ‬ Be95 Be553 Bi583 焏‫ܕܫ‬熏‫ ܕܩ‬焏‫[ ܪܘܚ‬焏‫ܕܫ‬熏‫ | ܪܘܚ ܩ‬om. Lo6673 ny2941/3 Ye10 [-‫ | ܘ‬Lo4434 om. CaH63 [焏‫ܦ‬焏‫ )…( ܟ‬牯‫ | ܟ‬om. Bi583 [煿‫ | ܠ‬Ma52݂ ‫ ܗܘܬ‬+ [焏‫ܫܛ‬熏‫ ܡ‬4. || CaH163 ny2941/3 | om. Bi583 CaH156 煿‫ܢ‬狏‫ ܡ‬狏‫ ܘܦܩܥ‬5. || Mo417 ‫ܩ‬犯‫ ܕܒ‬: G. A ‫ܩ‬犯‫ܩ[ ܘܟ‬犯‫ | ܘܒ‬Ma52 Ye10 Ye19 CaH163 焏‫[ ܘܩܥ‬犟‫ | ܘܐܙܥ‬om. StP18 Ye19 [‫ܐ‬犯‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܘܡ‬焏‫ ܪܡ‬焏‫ ܒܩܠ‬犟‫ |ܘܐܙܥ‬Pr2 焏‫ܢ‬- [煿‫ܢ‬狏‫ܡ‬ CaH163 G. A Lo4434 Lo6673 Mo417 ‫ܐ‬犯‫ܝ‬犯‫ܐ[ ܡ‬犯‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܘܡ‬焏‫ | ܪܡ‬Mo417 Lo4434 焏‫[ ܩܠ‬焏‫| ܒܩܠ‬ ̈ ̈ om. [‫ܘܗܝ‬煟‫ܠܡܝ‬狏‫ܢ ܠ‬犯‫ | ܡ‬om. Mo417 [-‫ | ܘ‬om. Be95 StP18 [‫ܘܗܝ‬煟‫ܠܡܝ‬狏‫ܢ ܠ‬犯‫ ܡ‬犯‫| ܘܐܡ‬ ̈ om. Be95 StP18 ‫ )…( ܗܕܐ‬熏‫ ܡܢ‬6. || om. Be553 Bi583 CaH156 CaH163 [‫ܘܗܝ‬煟‫ܠܡܝ‬狏‫ | ܠ‬Pr2 | om. CaH160 ny2941/3 Ma52 [焏‫ | ܗܢ‬CaH156 ‫ܐ‬犯‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܡ‬+ [焏‫ ܗܢ‬焏‫ | ܩܠ‬CaH163 熏‫[ ܕܡܢ‬熏‫| ܡܢ‬ ‫ܐ‬狏‫ ܕܓܥ‬: Lo4434 ‫ܐ‬狏‫ ܘܓܥ‬: om. Be553 Bi583 CaH156 CaH163 Mo417 Pr2 [‫ܐ ܗܕܐ‬狏‫ܕܓܥ‬ om. [煿‫ | ܠ‬Bi583 爯‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܘܐܡ‬爯‫[ ܥܢܝ‬爯‫ܝ‬犯‫ | ܐܡ‬om. Be95 StP18 [煿‫ ܠ‬爯‫ܝ‬犯‫ | ܐܡ‬Ma52 Ye10 Ye19 ̈ ̈ om. CaH156 [-‫ | ܠ‬om. StP18 [‫ܘܗܝ‬煟‫ܠܡܝ‬狏‫ܢ )…( ܠ‬熏‫ ܠܫܠܝܡ‬6–7 | CaH163 ‫ܘܗܝ‬煟‫ ܬܠܡܝ‬+ : Be553 焏‫[ ܒܢ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܕܡ‬煿‫ܐ ܠܫܡ‬狏‫ ܒܝ‬焏‫ ܒܢ‬6–7. || Bi583 煟‫ ܟ‬: CaH163 Lo4434 Ma52 Mo417 ny2941/3 deficit G. A [爯‫ ܐܡܝ‬2.—焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܕܡ‬煿‫ ܠܫܡ‬7. || Lo4434 煿‫ ܠ‬焏‫ܐ ܒܢ‬狏‫ ܒܝ‬: Mo417 ‫ܐ‬狏‫ ܒܝ‬煿‫ܠ‬ Be95 Be553 焏‫ܕܫ‬熏‫ ܕܩ‬焏‫[ ܪܘܚ‬焏‫ܕܫ‬熏‫ | ܪܘܚ ܩ‬Mo417 -‫ ܕ‬om. CaH160 Lo6673 Pr2 -‫| ܘܪܘܚ[ ܘ‬ [焏‫ܦ‬焏‫ )…( ܟ‬牯‫ | ܘܟ‬CaH163 Ma52 ‫ ܗܘܬ‬+ [焏‫ܫܛ‬熏‫ | ܡ‬Bi583 CaH156 CaH163 ny2941/3 Pr2 om. Be95 Be553 Bi583 CaH156 CaH160 G. A Lo4434 Lo6673 Ma52 ny2941/3 Pr2 Ye10 Ye19 ̈ [‫ܘܗܝ‬煟‫ܠܡܝ‬狏‫ | ܠ‬om. Mo417 [-‫ ܘ‬9. || om. Be95 Be553 CaH156 G. A Pr2 [煿‫ܢ‬狏‫ ܡ‬狏‫ ܘܦܩܥ‬8. || Mo417 ‫ܬܘ‬熏‫ ܢܚ‬: Bi583 ‫ܬܘ‬熏‫ ܘܚ‬: Be95 ‫ܬ‬熏‫ܬܘ[ ܚ‬熏‫ | ܚ‬Lo4434 ‫ܘܢ‬煿‫ ܠ‬: om. Be95 Be553 Pr2 | Lo6673 ‫ܢ‬犯‫ܗ ܕܡ‬狏‫ ܠܓܢ‬: ny2941/3 ‫ܢ‬煟‫ܗ ܕܥ‬狏‫ܢ[ ܠܓܢ‬煟‫ ܥ‬狏‫ | ܠܓܢ‬CaH163 StP18 熏‫ܠ‬熏‫ ܥ‬: CaH156 營‫[ ܡܚ‬熏‫ ܡܚ‬10. || CaH163 Lo4434 Ma52 Mo417 StP18 熏‫ܩ‬熏‫ ܘܦܣ‬: Be95 ‫ܦ‬- [熏‫ܦ‬熏‫ܘܩܛ‬ 焏‫ܢ‬犯‫ ܘܐܚ‬: om. Be553 StP18 Ye10 Ye19 [焏‫ | ܘܠܫܡܝ‬CaH160 Lo6673 ny2941/3 StP18 Ye10 Ye19 | Bi583 焏‫ ܠܝܡ‬焏‫ܢ‬犯‫ ܘܐܚ‬: Be95 CaH156 CaH160 CaH163 Lo6673 Mo417 ny2941/3 Pr2 焏‫ܠܫܡܝ‬ om. Be95 Be553 CaH156 [焏‫ ܕܝܡܝܢ‬焏‫ )…( ܓܒ‬焏‫ܚ ܓܒ‬焏‫ ܘܢ‬10–11. || Mo417 熏‫ ܡܚ‬+ [焏‫ܢ‬犯‫ܘܐܚ‬ StP18 Ye19 焏‫ ܕܣܡܠ‬焏‫ ܠܓܒ‬焏‫ܢ‬犯‫ ܘܐܚ‬: Bi583 焏‫ ܘܕܣܡܠ‬: CaH160 Lo6673 ny2941/3 Pr2 Ye10 [焏‫ ܕܝܡܝܢ‬焏‫ | ܓܒ‬Mo417 熏‫ ܡܚ‬+ [焏‫ܢ‬犯‫ | ܘܐܚ‬CaH163 焏‫ ܕܣܡܠ‬焏‫[ ܘܠܓܒ‬焏‫ ܠܓܒ‬焏‫ܢ‬犯‫| ܘܐܚ‬ 爯‫ ܦܠ‬犯‫ ܒ‬爯‫[ )ܕ(ܦܠ‬爯‫̈ܕܐ ܗܠܝ‬熏‫ ܝ‬爯‫ ܕܛܥܝ‬11. || Ye10 ‫ܐ‬犏‫ ܘܠܚ‬+ : Mo417 ‫ܐ‬犯‫ ܓܒ‬: CaH163 焏‫ܝܡܝܢ‬ ‫ܐ‬狏‫ܒܢܝ‬熏‫ ܛ‬爟‫ܝ‬犯‫ܬܝ ܡ‬犯‫ܬ ܡ‬熏‫ܠ‬犏‫ ܒ‬12. || Ma52 ‫ܐ ܗܕܐ‬狏‫ܝܒ‬狏‫[ ܟ‬爯‫̈ܕܐ ܗܠܝ‬熏‫ | ܝ‬Lo4434 Mo417 爟‫ ܒܫ‬: Ye10爯‫ܝ ܐܘܘܝ‬犯‫ܬܗ ܕܡ‬熏‫ܠ‬犏‫ ܒ‬: Mo417 爯‫ ܐܡܝ‬焏‫ܥ ܡܫܝܚ‬熏‫ܢ ܝܫ‬犯‫ ܕܡ‬煿‫[ ܒܫܡ‬爯‫ܐܡܝ‬ 焏‫ ܐܡ‬: CaH160 ‫ܐ‬狏‫ܘܠ‬狏‫ܐ[ ܒ‬狏‫ܒܢܝ‬熏‫ | ܛ‬Lo4434 爯‫ ܠܥܠܡܝ‬焏‫ܕܫ‬熏‫ ܕܩ‬焏‫ܐ ܘܪܘܚ‬犯‫ ܘܒ‬焏‫ܐܒ‬ ‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܘܕܡ‬+ : Bi583 CaH156 CaH163 StP18 Ye19 焏‫ܢ‬煟‫ ܡܥܡ‬爯‫ܚܢ‬熏‫ܝ ܝ‬犯‫ )ܘ(ܕܡ‬+ : Lo6673 ‫ܗܪܐ‬熏‫ܢ‬ ̈ ̈ ‫ ܘܣ‬焏‫ ܘܫܠ̈ܝܚ‬焏‫ ܘܢܒ̈ܝ‬焏‫ܢ‬煟‫ ܡܥܡ‬爯‫ܚܢ‬熏‫ܝ‬ om. Ma52 [爯‫ | ܐܡܝ‬Ma52 焏‫ܕܝܢ‬熏‫ܕܐ ܘܡ‬煿

The ban of King Solomon, useful for back strain.108 ‘In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, and in the name of ʾhyh ʾšrhyh

108

Specifically a sharp pain of sudden onset: cf. M. Sokoloff, A Syriac Lexicon: A Translation from the Latin, Correction, Expansion, and Update of C. Brockelmann’s Lexicon Syriacum (Winona Lake, IN, and Piscataway, NJ, 2009), p. 192a s.v. ‫ܐ‬犏‫ ܕܚ‬焏‫ܩ‬犯‫ ;ܒ‬A.J. Maclean, A Dictionary of the Dialects of Vernacular Syriac as Spoken by the Eastern Syrians of Kurdistan, North-West Persia, and the Plain of Moṣul, with Illustrations from the Dialects of the Jews of

106

zellmann-rohrer

ʾlšdy ʾdwny109 Lord of Hosts. King Solomon110 was building a house for the name of the Lord,111 and the Holy Spirit was handing him a stone. Solomon bent down to pick up the stone, and he strained his back, and he ruptured his loins. He cried out in a loud and bitter voice, and our Lord said to his disciples, What is this sound of shouting? They said to him, It is Solomon’s, the son of David: he was building a house for the name of the Lord, and the Holy Spirit was handing him a stone. Solomon bent down to pick up the stone, and he strained his back, and he ruptured his loins. Our Lord said to his disciples, Go down to the garden of Eden112 and pluck three shoots. Strike one on the ground and then in the air, and another on the right side—and the left side gets relief—and another on the left side—and the right side gets relief,113 that of the bearer of this writing, by the prayers of the blessed Lady Mary,114 amen.’ Mar Zîʿâ (G. Appendix p. 103 §11)

5

10

109 110 111 112 113

114

焏‫ ܐܒ‬爟‫ ܒܫ‬.焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ ܘܠܡ‬焏‫ܛ‬熏‫ܥ‬犯‫ ܠܫ‬熯‫ ܕܚܫ‬焏‫ܒܢ‬熏‫ ܛ‬焏‫ܝ ܙܝܥ‬犯‫ ܕܡ‬焏‫ܡ‬犯‫ܚ‬ ‫ܝ‬犯‫ܗ ܕܡ‬狏‫ܗ ܘܬܚܢܢ‬狏‫ܬܗ ܘܬܟܫܦ‬熏‫ܬܗ ܘܒܥ‬熏‫ ܨܠ‬.焏‫ܕܫ‬熏‫ ܕܩ‬焏‫ܐ ܘܪܘܚ‬犯‫ܘܒ‬ 焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܡ‬犯‫ ܐܡ‬爯‫ܘܩ‬犯‫ܥ ܦ‬熏‫ܡ ܝܫ‬煟‫ ܕܩ‬焏‫ܢ ܪܫܢ‬熏‫ܗ ܕܫܡܥ‬犯‫ ܒ‬焏‫ܒܢ‬熏‫ ܛ‬焏‫ܙܝܥ‬ 燿‫ ܘܡܢ‬焏‫ܢ‬煟‫ܝ ܣܓ‬煿‫ ܐܠ‬燿‫ܡܝ‬煟‫ܐ ܩ‬狏‫ܠܝ‬熏̈‫ ܘܟ‬焏‫ ܠܒ‬犯‫ ܒܚ‬焏‫ܢ‬狏̇ ‫ܐ ܚܝܠ‬煿‫ܐܠ‬ ‫ܥ‬熏‫ܢ ܝܫ‬犯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ܝܫ‬煟‫ ܩ‬燿‫ܗܝ ܫܡ‬熏‫ ܥܠ‬焏‫ܒ ܘܬܠ‬狏‫ ܕܟ‬爏‫ ܕܟ‬焏‫ܠܢ‬焏‫ ܫ‬焏‫ܪܚܡ‬ ‫ܘܙܟ‬犯‫ܘܗܝ ܟ‬狏‫ ܕܐܝ‬焏‫ܢ ܪܫܢ‬熏‫ ܫܡܥ‬犯‫ ܒ‬焏‫ܟ ܙܝܥ‬煟‫ ܥܒ‬營‫ ܕܝܠ‬營‫ ܘܫܡ‬焏‫ܡܫܝܚ‬ 煿‫ܠܠ‬熏‫ ܕܟ‬焏‫ܢ‬煟‫ ܒܥ‬焏‫ܢ‬狏‫ܐ ܚܝܠ‬煿‫ ܐܠ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ܬ ܡ‬熏‫ ܠ‬牯‫ ܘܐܬܟܫ‬焏‫ ܘܒܥ‬營‫ܕܨܠ‬ 焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ܛ‬熏‫ܥ‬犯‫ ܫ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܠ‬爯‫̈ܕܐ ܗܠܝ‬熏‫ ܝ‬爯‫ܗ ܕܛܥܝ‬狏‫ܘܐ ܒܒܝ‬煿‫ ܢ‬焏‫ܠ‬ 焏‫ܥ‬犯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ ܟܦܢ‬焏‫ܐ ܘܠ‬熟‫ ܪܘܓ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ ܡܚܒܠܢ‬焏‫ܟ‬焏‫ ܡܠ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ܚܢ‬熏‫ܫ‬ .爯‫ ܐܡܝ‬焏‫ܒܢ‬熏‫ ܛ‬焏‫ܝ ܙܝܥ‬犯‫ܬ ܡ‬熏‫ܠ‬犏‫ܬܐ ܒ‬熏‫ ܡ‬燿‫ ܡܠ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ܪܗܢ‬熏‫ ܟ‬焏‫ܘܠ‬ Zakhu and Azerbaijan, and of the Western Syrians of Ṭur ʿAbdin and Maʿlula (Oxford, 1901), pp. 39a s.v. 焏‫ܘܩ‬犯‫ ܒ‬and 40a s.v. ‫ܩ‬犯‫ܒ‬. Some witnesses give a simpler title, ‘For back strain.’ As Gollancz already saw, these epithets render Hebrew ‘I am that am’ (Exodus 3:14), ElShaddai, and Adonai. Some witnesses substitute ‘Solomon, son of David’ (CaH163 Lo4434 Ma52 Mo417). In two witnesses, ‘built himself a house’ (Mo417 Lo4434), with a trace of this variant perhaps in Ye10 and Ye19 ‘built himself a house, for the name’, and so on. In one witness ‘our Lord’s garden’ (Lo6673). A truncated version in the majority of witnesses, calling for two shoots to be struck on the ground and in the air respectively, and the other on the patient’s right side (Be95 Be553 CaH156 CaH160 Lo6673 ny2941/3 Pr2), loses the point of the ritual observance of right and left, not to mention leaving one of the patient’s sides untreated. Alongside minor variants in Mary’s titulature, other versions add John the Baptist (Bi583 CaH156 CaH163 Ma52 StP18 Ye19) and the apostles and saints (Ma52) or substitute a trinitarian coda (Lo4434 Mo417) or a single saint (Eugene: Ye10).

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

107

Witnesses: Be95 § 12; Be553 § 12; Bi583 § 12; CaH156 §12; CaH160 §11; CaH163 §9; Ev1 §20; G. A § 10 bis (defective); Lo6673 § 11; Mo417 § 53; nh3 §16; ny2941/3 §12; Pr2 §13; StP4 §15; StP18 § 30; Vi7 § 10; Ye10 §§ 12 and 42 (§ 42, with an expanded list of ills, is not adduced here).

焏‫ܛ‬熏‫ܥ‬犯‫ ܠܫ‬熯‫ ܕܚܫ‬焏‫ܒܢ‬熏‫ ܛ‬焏‫ܝ ܙܝܥ‬犯‫ ܕܡ‬焏‫ܡ‬犯‫ ܚ‬1 || deficit G. A usque ‫ܝ‬犯‫ܬ ܡ‬熏‫ܠ‬犏‫ ܒ‬1–10 om. Be553 ‫ܐ‬狏‫ܢܝ‬- [焏‫ܒܢ‬熏‫ | ܛ‬Be95 焏‫ܠ‬熏‫ ܦ‬corr. ex [焏‫ | ܙܝܥ‬Ev1 焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫[ ܕܡ‬焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ܘܠܡ‬ 焏‫ ܠܣܝܦ‬: Ye10 焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫[ܠܡ‬焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ ܘܠܡ‬焏‫ܛ‬熏‫ܥ‬犯‫ | ܠܫ‬om. ny2941/3 CaH163 -‫[ ܕ‬熯‫ | ܕܚܫ‬Ye10 : [焏‫ܕܫ‬熏‫ ܕܩ‬焏‫ܐ ܘܪܘܚ‬犯‫ ܘܒ‬焏‫ ܐܒ‬爟‫ ܒܫ‬1–2 || om. Be553 [焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ | ܘܠܡ‬CaH163 焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ܕܡ‬ 焏‫ܠ‬熏‫ ܦ‬corr. ex [焏‫ | ܙܝܥ‬om. Ev1 [‫ܗ‬狏‫ܗ ܘܬܚܢܢ‬狏‫ܬܗ ܘܬܟܫܦ‬熏‫ ܘܒܥ‬2 || om. CaH163 Mo417 ‫ܡ‬煟‫ | ܕܩ‬Ev1 StP18 ‫ܢ‬熏‫ ܫܡܥ‬犯‫[ ܒ‬焏‫ܢ ܪܫܢ‬熏‫ܗ ܕܫܡܥ‬犯‫ ܒ‬3 || om. Lo6673 Ev1 [焏‫ܒܢ‬熏‫ | ܛ‬Be95 焏‫ܐ ܡܚܝܢ‬煿‫ ܐܠ‬焏‫ܥ ܡܫܝܚ‬熏‫ܢ ܝܫ‬犯‫ܡ ܡ‬煟‫ ܩ‬牯‫ ܘܐܬܟܫ‬焏‫ ܘܒܥ‬營‫[ ܕܨܠ‬犯‫ ܐܡ‬爯‫ܘܩ‬犯‫ܥ ܦ‬熏‫ܝܫ‬ ‫ܐ‬煿‫ܡ ܐܠ‬煟‫ ܩ‬爟‫ ܕܩ‬: Mo417 StP18 Ye10 犯‫ܐ ܘܐܡ‬煿‫ ܐܠ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ܡ ܡ‬煟‫ ܩ‬爟‫ ܕܩ‬: CaH163 犯‫ܘܐܡ‬ 焏‫ܢ‬煟‫ܬܗ ܒܥ‬熏‫ܠ‬犏‫ܠ ܒ‬焏‫ ܘܫ‬犯‫ ܐܡ‬焏‫ ܗܟܢ‬爏‫ ܟ‬煟‫ܐ ܐܚܝ‬煿‫ ܐܠ‬爯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܘܒܥ‬營‫ ܕܨܠ‬: Ev1 焏‫ ܠܒ‬犯‫ܒܚ‬ -‫[ ܘ‬犯‫ | ܐܡ‬Bi583 -‫[ ܘ‬爯‫ܘܩ‬犯‫ | ܦ‬Vi7 犯‫ ܘܐܡ‬爯‫ܘܩ‬犯‫ܡ ܦ‬煟‫ ܩ‬營‫ ܕܨܠ‬: nh3 StP4 犯‫ ܘܐܡ‬煿‫ܠܠ‬熏‫ܕܟ‬ 焏‫ ܠܒ‬犯‫ ܒܚ‬焏‫ܢ‬狏‫ܐ ܚܝܠ‬煿‫ ܐܠ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ | ܡ‬Bi583 CaH156 -‫ ܘ‬營‫ ܕܨܠ‬: Be95 Lo6673 ny2941/3 Pr2 ̈ Mo417 StP18 焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܐܘܢ ܡ‬: ny2941/3 焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܡ‬燿‫ ܡܢ‬焏‫[ ܒܥܢ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ | ܡ‬om. Ev1 [‫ܐ‬狏‫ܠܝ‬熏‫ܘܟ‬ ̈ 犯‫ | ܒܚ‬om. Bi583 [煿‫ܠܠ‬熏‫ ܕܟ‬焏‫ܢ‬煟‫ܐ )…( ܒܥ‬狏‫ܠܝ‬熏‫ ܘܟ‬焏‫ ܠܒ‬犯‫ ܒܚ‬4–7 || om. CaH163 [焏‫ܢ‬狏‫| ܚܝܠ‬ ̈ ̈ ̈ : CaH163 ‫ܐ‬狏‫ ܕܟܣܝ‬焏‫ܘܥ‬煟‫ܐ ܘܝ‬狏‫ ܕܛ̈ܒ‬焏‫ܢܣܢ‬犯‫ܬܐ ܘܡܦ‬熏‫ܪܐ ܕܠܒ‬熏‫ܐ[ ܒܚ‬狏‫ܠܝ‬熏‫ ܘܟ‬焏‫ܠܒ‬ 燿‫ ܘܡܢ‬焏‫ܢ‬煟‫ܝ ܣܓ‬煿‫ ܐܠ‬燿‫ܡܝ‬煟‫ ܩ‬4–5 ||nh3 StP4 ‫ܒ‬熏‫ ܘܝܥܩ‬犟‫ܗܡ ܘܐܝܣܚ‬犯‫ܐܒ‬ ̇ ‫ܬܢ‬煿‫ܕܐܒ‬ ‫ܡ‬煟‫ܝ[ ܩ‬煿‫ ܐܠ‬燿‫ܡܝ‬煟‫ | ܩ‬nh3 StP4 ‫ܬܟ‬熏‫ܒ‬犯‫ ܠ‬焏‫ܟܫܦܢ‬狏‫ ܘܡ‬燿‫ ܡܢ‬焏‫[ ܒܥܢ‬焏‫ܠܢ‬焏‫ ܫ‬焏‫ܪܚܡ‬ [焏‫ | ܪܚܡ‬Ev1 焏‫[ ܘܪܚܡ‬燿‫ | ܘܡܢ‬Mo417 犿‫ ܢ‬爏‫ ܟ‬: Ev1 Vi7 ‫ܗܐ‬- [‫ܝ‬煿‫ | ܐܠ‬CaH163 ‫ܬܟ‬熏‫ܪܒ‬ 犯‫ ܒ‬+ : Be553 Lo6673 Mo417 nh3 Vi7 爏‫ ܘܟ‬: om. CaH156 [爏‫ | ܕܟ‬Mo417 ‫ܬܐ‬熏‫ܗܕܐ ܒܥ‬ 犯‫ܕܟ‬狏‫ ܕܢ‬: CaH163 Ev1 Mo417 犯‫ܕܟ‬狏‫ܒ[ ܕܡ‬狏‫ | ܕܟ‬nh3 爯‫ ܡ‬+ : CaH163 Mo417 ny2941/3 (‫)ܐ‬犿‫ܢ‬ ‫ܒ‬狏‫ ܐܘ ܕܡܟ‬:om. CaH163 Ev1 Mo417 nh3 ny2941/3 StP4 Vi7 [‫ܗܝ‬熏‫ ܥܠ‬焏‫ | ܘܬܠ‬nh3 StP4 + [焏‫ | ܙܝܥ‬om. CaH156 CaH160 CaH163 Ev1 Lo6673 Vi7 [焏‫ܥ ܡܫܝܚ‬熏‫ܢ ܝܫ‬犯‫ ܡ‬5–6 || StP18 om. 焏‫ ܪܫܢ‬: om. CaH160 CaH163 Ev1 Lo6673 nh3 Ye10 [焏‫ܢ ܪܫܢ‬熏‫ ܫܡܥ‬犯‫ | ܒ‬Pr2 焏‫ܒܢ‬熏‫ܛ‬ om. CaH160 CaH163 Ev1 Lo6673 [‫ܘܙܟ‬犯‫ܘܗܝ ܟ‬狏‫ | ܕܐܝ‬Mo417 StP18 -‫ܗ ܕ‬犯‫ ܒ‬: ny2941/3 Pr2 焏‫ܢ‬狏‫ܐ ܚܝܠ‬煿‫ ܐܠ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ܬ ܡ‬熏‫ ܠ‬牯‫ ܘܐܬܟܫ‬焏‫ ܘܒܥ‬營‫ ܕܨܠ‬7 || Mo417 nh3 StP4 StP18 Vi7 Ye10 營‫ ܘܨܠ‬: om. Lo6673 [營‫ | ܕܨܠ‬om. CaH163 Ev1 Mo417 nh3 StP4 StP18 Ye10 [煿‫ܠܠ‬熏‫ ܕܟ‬焏‫ܢ‬煟‫ܒܥ‬ + : om. CaH156 CaH160 Lo6673 ny2941/3 Vi7 [煿‫ܠܠ‬熏‫ ܕܟ‬焏‫ܢ‬煟‫ | ܒܥ‬Vi7 爯‫ܬ[ ܡ‬熏‫ | ܠ‬Be553 ‫ܘܐ‬煿‫ ܢ‬焏‫ ܠ‬.‫ ܗ‬.熏‫ ܝ‬.‫ ܕܛ‬.焯‫ ܒ‬焏‫[ ܠ‬爯‫̈ܕܐ ܗܠܝ‬熏‫ ܝ‬爯‫ܗ ܕܛܥܝ‬狏‫ܘܐ ܒܒܝ‬煿‫ ܢ‬焏‫ ܠ‬8 || Vi7 犯‫ܘܐܡ‬ 焏‫ܗ ܠ‬狏‫ ܐܘ ܒܒܝ‬煿‫ܐ ܗ̇ܘܐ ܥܡ‬煿‫ ܐܠ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܡ‬: CaH163 煿‫ܒ ܠ‬犯‫ܩ‬狏‫ ܢ‬焏‫ ܠ‬: CaH156 ‫ܗ‬狏‫ܒܒܝ‬ [焏‫ܗ| ܠ‬狏‫ ܐܘ ܒܒܝ‬煿‫ܘܐ ܥܡ‬煿‫ ܢ‬焏‫ ܠ‬焏‫ܐܢ‬狏‫ܐ ܚܝܠ‬煿‫ ܐܠ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܡ‬Ye10 : StP18 煿‫ܒ ܠ‬犯‫ܩ‬狏‫ܢ‬ ̈ om. Ev1 Mo417 nh3 [爯‫ܕܐ ܗܠܝ‬熏‫ ܝ‬爯‫ | ܕܛܥܝ‬nh3 StP4 熿‫ܠ‬狏‫ܘܐ[ ܢܫ‬煿‫ | ܢ‬Mo417 nh3 焏‫ܘܠ‬ 爯‫ ܐܡܝ‬焏‫ܪܗܢ‬熏‫ ܟ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ܬܐ[ ܡ‬熏‫ ܡ‬燿‫ )…( ܡܠ‬焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܠ‬8–10 || StP4 StP18 Ye10 焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ ܟܦܢ‬焏‫ܐ ܘܠ‬熟‫ ܪܘܓ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ ܡܚܒܠܢ‬焏‫ܟ‬焏‫ ܡܠ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ܛ‬熏‫ܥ‬犯‫ ܫ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ܚܢ‬熏‫ ܫ‬: Ev1 [焏‫ܛ‬熏‫ܥ‬犯‫ ܫ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܠ‬8 || StP18 Ye10 爯‫ ܐܡܝ‬焏‫ܪܗܢ‬熏‫ ܟ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ܥ‬犯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ܡ‬ 焏‫ ܠ‬: om. Be553 CaH156 ny2941/3 Pr2 Vi7 焏‫[ ܠ‬焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ ܡ‬焏‫ | ܠ‬Mo417 nh3 StP4 .熏‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬.犯‫ܫ‬ om. Bi583 [焏‫ܛ‬熏‫ܥ‬犯‫ ܫ‬焏‫ | ܘܠ‬CaH163 焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ ܕܡ‬焏‫ ܣܝܦ‬: CaH160 Lo6673 .熏‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ܟܦܢ‬ 焏‫ܪܗܢ‬熏‫ ܟ‬焏‫ܬܐ[ ܘܠ‬熏‫ ܡ‬燿‫ )…( ܡܠ‬焏‫ܚܢ‬熏‫ ܫ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬8–10 ||CaH156 CaH160 Lo6673 ny2941/3 焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ܐ ܗܟܢ‬狏‫ ܠܡܠ‬爯‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܕܥܒ‬爯‫ ܐܝܠܝ‬焏‫ܪܗܢ‬熏‫ ܘܟ‬焏‫̈ܒ‬焏‫ܘܢ ܟ‬煿‫ ܟܠ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ܥ‬犯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ܘܠ‬ 焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ ܘܡ‬焏‫ܛ‬熏‫ܥ‬犯‫ ܫ‬爯‫ ܡ‬爯‫̈ܕܐ ܗܠܝ‬熏‫ ܝ‬爯‫ܟ ܛܥܝ‬煟‫ ܥܒ‬焏‫ܗ ܕܗܢ‬狏‫ ܒܝ‬犯‫ ܛ‬焏‫ܢ‬狏‫ܐ ܚܝܠ‬煿‫ܐܠ‬ 犯‫ܝ‬狏‫ ܒܝ‬犯‫ܝ‬狏‫ ܘܝ‬焏‫ܫܢ‬焏‫ܡ ܡܒ‬煟‫ ܡ‬爏‫ ܟ‬爯‫ ܘܡ‬焏‫ܩܢ‬犯‫ ܝ‬爯‫ ܘܡ‬焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܟܦܢ‬爯‫ ܘܡ‬焏‫ܥ‬犯‫ ܡ‬爯‫ܘܡ‬ ‫ܘܢ‬煿‫ ܟܠ‬爯‫ ܡ‬爯‫̈ܕܐ ܗܠܝ‬熏‫ ܝ‬爯‫ ܕܛܥܝ‬狏‫ ܕܒܝ‬焏‫ܢ‬犯‫ ܘܬܗܘܐ ܡܢܛ‬焏‫ܬܐ ܡܚܒܠܢ‬熏‫ ܡ‬燿‫ ܡܠ‬爯‫ܡ‬ | CaH163 焏‫ ܒܝܫ‬+ : om. CaH160 Lo6673 Mo417 Vi7 [焏‫ܚܢ‬熏‫ ܫ‬焏‫ | ܘܠ‬nh3 ‫ܐ‬狏‫ܡܥܝܩܢ̈ܝ‬ 焏‫̈ܒ‬焏‫ ܟ‬焏‫ܬܐ[ ܘܠ‬熏‫ ܡ‬燿‫ܐ )…( ܡܠ‬熟‫ ܪܘܓ‬焏‫ | ܘܠ‬om. ny2941/3 [焏‫ ܡܚܒܠܢ‬焏‫ܟ‬焏‫ ܡܠ‬焏‫ܘܠ‬ 爯‫ܕܐ ܗܠܝ‬熏̈‫ ܝ‬爯‫ܗܝ ܕܛܥܝ‬熏̈‫ ܗܕܡ‬爯‫ܗ ܘܡ‬犯‫ ܦܓ‬爯‫ ܘܡ‬煿‫ܢ ܡܢ‬熏‫ܪܚܩ‬狏‫ ܢ‬焏‫ܐܠ‬焏‫ܪܗܢ‬熏‫ ܟ‬焏‫ܘܠ‬

108

zellmann-rohrer + [焏‫ | ܟܦܢ‬Mo417 焏‫ ܡܫ̈ܚܠܦ‬焏‫ܪܗܢ‬熏‫ ܟ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬犯‫ ܕܠܒ‬焏‫ܒ‬焏‫ ܟ‬焏‫ܐ ܘܠ‬熟‫ ܪܘܓ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬: CaH163 焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ ܘܡ‬: om. Be95 Be553 [焏‫ܥ‬犯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ | ܘܠ‬Vi7 焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬+ : Be95 焏‫ܚܢ‬熏‫ ܫ‬焏‫ܘܠ‬ ̈ | Vi7 爯‫ܕܐ ܗܠܝ‬熏‫ ܝ‬爯‫ܗ ܕܛܥܝ‬狏‫ ܒܝ‬爯‫ ܡ‬+ : ny2941/3 焏‫ܪܗܢ‬熏‫[ ܘܟ‬焏‫ܪܗܢ‬熏‫ ܟ‬焏‫ | ܘܠ‬ny2941/3 ‫ܝ‬犯‫ܬ ܡ‬熏‫ܠ‬犏‫ ܒ‬10 || om. Be95 Be553 CaH160 Lo6673 ny2941/3 Pr2 Vi7 [‫ܬܐ‬熏‫ ܡ‬燿‫ ܡܠ‬焏‫ܘܠ‬ ‫ܝ‬犯‫ܐ ܘܕܡ‬狏‫ܒܢܝ‬熏‫ ܛ‬爟‫ܝ‬犯‫ܬܝ ܡ‬犯‫ܬ̇ܗ ܕܡ‬熏‫ܠ‬犏‫ ܒ‬: om. Be95 Be553 ny2941/3 Pr2 [焏‫ܒܢ‬熏‫ ܛ‬焏‫ܙܝܥ‬ 焏‫ ܘܐܒ̈ܝܠ‬焏‫ ܘܥܢܒ̈ܝ‬焏‫ܬܐ ܘܫܠܝ̈ܚ‬煿̈‫ ܘܐܒ‬焏‫̈ܢ‬焏‫ܬ ܟ‬熏‫ܠ‬犏‫ ܒ‬: Bi583 Mo417 焏‫ܢ‬煟‫ ܡܥܡ‬爯‫ܚܢ‬熏‫ܝ‬ ̈ ‫ܬܐ ܕ‬熏̈‫ܠ‬犏‫ ܒ‬: StP4 ‫ܬܐ‬煿̈‫ ܘܐܒ‬焏‫̈ܢ‬焏‫ܬ ܟ‬熏‫ܠ‬犏‫ ܒ‬: nh3 ‫ܬ̇ܗ‬熏̈‫ܠ‬犏‫ ܘܒ‬.爯‫ ܐܡܝ‬焏‫ܝ‬狏‫ ܘܬ̈ܚ‬焏‫ܥܠܝ‬ ‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܘܕܡ‬焏‫ܝ ܙܝܥ‬犯‫ܬܗ ܕܡ‬熏‫ܠ‬犏‫ ܒ‬: Ev1 爯‫ ܐܡܝ‬爯‫ܚܢ‬熏‫ܝ ܝ‬犯‫ ܘܡ‬爟‫ܝ‬犯‫ܬܝ ܡ‬犯‫ ܘܕܡ‬爟‫ܝ‬犯‫ܬܝ ܡ‬犯‫ܕܡ‬ ‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܘܡ‬爯‫ܚܢ‬熏‫ܝ ܝ‬犯‫ܐ ܘܕܡ‬狏‫ܒܢܝ‬熏‫ ܛ‬爟‫ܝ‬犯‫ܬܝ ܡ‬犯‫ܬ̇ܗ ܡ‬熏̈‫ܠ‬犏‫ ܒ‬: Ye10 爏‫ܝ‬焏‫ܝ ܡܝܟ‬犯‫ܐ ܘܕܡ‬熟‫ܝ‬熟‫ܥ‬

爏‫ ܘܒܟ‬焏‫ܢ ܗܫ‬犯‫ܗܝ ܕܡ‬熏‫̈ܝܫ‬煟‫̈ܕܘܗܝ ܘܩ‬煿‫ܘܢ ܣ‬煿‫ ܘܟܠ‬爿‫ܪܓܝ‬熏‫ܝ ܓܝ‬犯‫ܐ ܘܡ‬熟‫ܝ‬熟‫ܝ ܥ‬犯‫ ܒܡ‬焏‫ܙܝܥ‬ 爯‫ܚܢ‬熏‫ܝ ܝ‬犯‫ ܘܕܡ‬焏‫ܕܝܢ‬熏‫ ܡ‬爿‫ܪܓܝ‬熏‫ܝ ܓܝ‬犯‫ ܘܕܡ‬+ : StP18 爯‫ ܘܐܡܝ‬爯‫ ܐܝ‬爯‫ ܥܠܡܝ‬爟‫ ܘܠܥܠ‬爯‫ܙܒ‬ ‫ܒ‬焏‫ ܟ‬爏‫ܢ ܟ‬熏‫ܪܚܩ‬狏‫ ܢ‬焏‫ ܗܢ‬焏‫ܢ ܕܒܥܠܡ‬犯‫ܗܝ ܕܡ‬熏̈‫ܝܫ‬煟‫ܕ̈ܘܗܝ ܘܩ‬煿‫ܘܢ ܣ‬煿‫ ܘܕܟܠ‬焏‫ܢ‬煟‫ܡܥܡ‬ 焏‫ ܡܚܒܠܢ‬焏‫ܟ‬焏‫ ܘܐܦ ܡܠ‬焏‫ ܒܝܫ‬焏‫ܚܢ‬熏‫ ܘܐܦ ܫ‬焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ ܕܡ‬焏‫ ܘܐܦ ܣܝܦ‬焏‫ܪܗܢ‬熏‫ ܟ‬爏‫ܘܟ‬ 煿‫ܐ ܐܡ‬狏‫ܒܢܝ‬熏‫ ܛ‬爟‫ܝ‬犯‫ܬܝ ܡ‬犯‫ܬ̇ܗ ܕܡ‬熏̈‫ܠ‬犏‫ ܒ‬焏‫ ܗܢ‬焏‫ܡ‬犯‫ ܚ‬爯‫ܗ ܕܛܥܝ‬犯‫ ܦܓ‬爯‫ ܘܡ‬煿‫ܡܢ‬ nh3 StP4 -‫ ܘܐ‬爯‫[ ܐܝ‬爯‫ | ܐܡܝ‬CaH156 CaH163 -‫ܬܗ ܕ‬- [‫ܬ‬熏‫ܠ‬犏‫ | ܒ‬CaH163 ‫ܢ‬犯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ܕܡܫܝܚ‬ Vi7

The ban of the blessed Mar Zîʿâ, useful for plague-swellings and the deathly (pox).115 ‘In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. The prayer and plea and supplication and entreaty of the blessed Mar Zîʿâ, son of Simon the chief, who spoke before Jesus our saviour:116 Lord God almighty, who examines hearts and minds,117 before you, my God, I worship and beg for your mercy, that whoever writes and hangs upon himself your holy name,118 our Lord Jesus Christ, and my name, your servant Zîʿâ, son of Simon the chief—who is your herald, who has prayed and pleaded and supplicated the Lord God almighty at the time of his crowning—,119 that in the house of the bearer of these writings there be no deathly (pox), no plague-swelling, no sores, no destroying angel, no (divine) wrath, no famine, no illness, no sickness, and no King of Death,120 by the prayers of the blessed Mar Zîʿâ, amen.’

115 116 117

118

119 120

One witness has ‘the sword of the deathly one’ (CaH163). There is much variety among the witnesses in the introduction of this prayer. Cf. Jeremiah 17:10; expanded in two witnesses to include ‘distributor of good things and knower of secret things’ (CaH163) and ‘(God) of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob’ (nh3) respectively. Reference to suspension of the written amulet is omitted in some witnesses (CaH163 Mo417 nh3 ny2941/3 Vi7), and the entire act of inscription is simplified to ‘remembering’ the holy names in others (CaH163 Mo417 nh3) but highlighted in yet another: the names are efficacious whether the bearer writes them himself (‫ܒ‬狏‫ )ܟ‬or has them written (‫ܒ‬狏‫ )ܡܟ‬by another (StP18). Some or all of these epithets are variously omitted in some witnesses. The ills to be averted and their order varies widely among the witnesses; the ‘King of Death’

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

109

The Solomon incantation can now be recognised as belonging to a type merging two popular narrative motifs in the composition of Late Ancient and medieval magical texts in the Mediterranean vicinity. In a recently proposed typology, these can be analysed as the ‘suffering saint’ and ‘cosmic disturbance’ motifs: in the former, the incantation recounts how a holy figure was afflicted, then healed in a manner analogous to the present healing scenario, and in the latter, how healing is specifically dispensed by deities (in Christian texts, most often Christ or Mary) after the cries of distress from the patient, or a figure representing him or her, reach and perturb them, with the cures in turn specifically featuring, and hence authorising, incantations themselves.121 Some Mesopotamian examples may be mentioned, closer to the regional context of the Syriac texts. The ancient god Enlil plays a role as the analogous sufferer in an incantation from Ur iii against the Samana-disease;122 a Mandaean incantation against sunstroke contains the following dialogue between the Sun and a male sufferer: ‘From the east I come and to the west I go. I found him and his pain; he was weeping, wailing, and shedding tears. And I said to him: Why are you weeping? … And he said: Why should I not weep … when your blows fall on my face, and (it is) your burning that inflamed it, and (your) staff is in my eyes’.123 A more disruptive ‘disturbance’ can be found in a collection of gynaecological recipes on a parchment bifolio from the Cairo Geniza including several incantations. One of these, in Aramaic with Hebrew rubric and instructions, now finds a close parallel in one of the new Syriac texts, which advances its interpretation. The Geniza incantation runs, ‫ברת קל נפקת מן א]ר[עא לשמיא ואמרת קדם אלהא חייא קל מטלמן לא קל טורין‬ ‫ תעני יתה‬.‫מתהפכין לא קל גלמת לא קל יתמ׳ לא קל אדמי אלא קלא דפ׳ בת פל׳ בעייא‬ [ ] ‫בהדא שעתה עי]ר א[להא יאמר למיכאל סב מפתחא מן ידך דימינא וחוה‬ ‫בידיה דגבר דשמאלא יזיל ויפתח באפוי דטלי]א בין[ דכר בין נקבה ויקום וישבח‬ ‫לאלהא חיא א׳ א׳ ס׳‬

121

122 123

may recall Hades from Graeco-Roman myth, if not a simple phonetic spelling for the lectio facilior ‘angel of death’ (‫ܬܐ‬熏‫ܟ ܡ‬焏‫ܡܠ‬, as indeed found in StP4), redundant after the preceding ‘destroying angel’. M. Zellmann-Rohrer, ‘Incantations in Byzantine and Post-Byzantine Greek: Change and Continuity’, in L.M. Bortolani, W. Furley, S. Nagel, and J.F. Quack (eds), Cultural Plurality in Ancient Magical Texts and Practices: Graeco-Egyptian Handbooks and Related Traditions (Tübingen, 2019), pp. 276–297 (288–289). J.J.A. van Dijk and M.J. Geller, Ur iii incantations from the Frau Professor HilprechtCollection, Jena (Wiesbaden, 2003), pp. 26–31 no. 6. E.S. Drower, ‘A Mandaean Book of Black Magic’, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland 75 (1943), pp. 149–181 (153–154 no. 4).

110

zellmann-rohrer

A voice went out from the earth up to heaven and spoke before the living God, a voice of the oppressed (?), not a voice of mountains moving, not a voice of hills, not a voice of orphans,124 not a voice of blood, but the voice of her, so-and-so, the daughter of so-and-so. Answer her at once, angel of God, let him say125 to Michael, ‘Take the key in your right hand and show […] in the left hand of Gabriel, let him go and open before the child, whether it is male or female, and let it arise and praise the living God.’ Amen, amen, sela.126 There is now a Syriac parallel for this motif specifically relating to birth among the texts identified since the publication of Gollancz, which also adds an instance of textual crossover between handbooks and finished amulets. Under a similar rubric, the incantation runs (Lo5281 § 42; LoA16; StP4 § 26; text of Lo5281),

焏‫ ܩܠ‬狏‫ ܘܫ̇ܡܥ‬狏‫ ܣܠ̇ܩ‬焏‫ܪܐ ܪܡ‬熏‫ ܠܛ‬.‫ܐ‬煟‫ ܝܠ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ܬܐ ܕܚܒܠ‬狏‫ܢ‬焏‫ܠ‬ 爏‫ ܥ‬焏‫ܗ ܕܣܛܢ‬煟‫ ܗܘܬ ܐܝ‬焏‫ ܕܣܝܡ‬爏‫ܐ ܡܛ‬煟‫ ܝܠ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬焏‫ܬܐ ܕܡܚܒܠ‬狏‫ܕܐܢ‬ 爟‫ ܐܬܪܚ‬焏‫ܥ ܡܫܝܚ‬熏‫ܢ ܝܫ‬犯‫ܬ ܡ‬犯‫ ܘܐܡ‬狏‫ ܘܩܥ‬焏‫ ܩܠ‬狏‫ ܘܐܪܝܡ‬煿̇‫ܒܥ‬犯‫ܡ‬ 焏‫ܩ‬熏̈‫ܐ ܫܒ‬狏‫ܩ ܬܠ‬熏‫ ܘܦܣ‬焏‫ܕܝܣ‬犯‫ܠ ܠܦ‬熏‫ ܥ‬犯‫ܠ ܘܐܡ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ܐ ܠܓܒ‬犯‫ ܘܩ‬.營‫ܥܠ‬ ‫ ܘܬܬܠ‬焏‫ܪܥ‬焏‫ ܠ‬營‫ ܡܚ‬爯‫ܐ ܘܕܬܪܝ‬犯‫ܕ ܡܛ‬熏‫ ܘܢܚ‬焏‫ ܠܫܡܝ‬營‫ ܡܚ‬煟‫ ܚ‬.爯‫ ܬܡ‬爯‫ܡ‬ 爏‫ܝ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܓܒ‬爏‫ ܘܥ‬.焏‫ܦ ܠܣܛܢ‬熏‫ܬܐ ܘܣܚ‬狏‫ܢ‬焏‫ ܠ‬營‫ܐ ܡܚ‬狏‫ܪܐ ܘܕܬܠ‬焏‫ܦ‬ ‫ܕܡ‬焏‫ ܠ‬煟‫ ܕܐܬܦܩ‬焏‫ ܐܝܠܢ‬爯‫ ܡ‬煟‫ ܚ‬焏‫ܩ‬熏̈‫ܐ ܫܒ‬狏‫ ܬܠ‬犟‫ ܘܦܣ‬煟‫ ܕܐܬܦܩ‬燿‫ܐܝ‬ 焏‫ ܐܝܠܢ‬爯‫܇ ܡ‬犯‫ܐ ܘܐܚ‬犯‫ܬ ܡܛ‬狏‫ ܘܢܚ‬焏‫ ܠܫܡܝ‬焏‫ ܘܡܚ‬煿‫ܠ ܡܢ‬熏‫ ܬܐܟ‬焏‫ܕܠ‬ 爯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ܢ‬犯‫ܪܐ ܘܐܚ‬焏‫ ܦ‬狏‫ܒ‬煿‫ ܘܝ‬焏‫ܪܥ‬焏‫ ܠ‬焏‫ ܘܡܚ‬焏‫ܫ‬熏‫ܗ ܕܡ‬犯‫ܛ‬熏‫ܕܚ‬ 狏‫ܪܝ‬狏‫ ܘܐܫ‬焏‫ ܠܣܛܢ‬牯‫ܬܐ ܘܣܚ‬狏‫ܢ‬焏‫ ܠ‬焏‫ܢ ܘܡܚ‬犯‫ ܡ‬牯‫ܗܝ ܐܙܕܩ‬熏‫ܕܥܠ‬ ̈ .(…) ‫ܬܐ‬煟‫ ܕܝܠ‬焏‫ ܚ̈ܒܠ‬爯‫ܡ‬ For a woman who is in labour and does not give birth: ‘I went up to the high mountain, and I heard the voice of a woman who was in labour and was not giving birth, because the hand of Satan had been placed on her womb, and she raised her voice and cried out and said, “Our Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me!” He called to the angel Gabriel and said, “Go

124

125 126

Read ‫‘ קל יתמ׳‬voice of orphans’ (or ‘of an orphan’) based on the parallel in StP4 §43 (see below), the abuse of orphans being a proverbially outrageous act; ‫ קל ית׳ מ׳‬as abbreviation of ‫‘ יפת תואר ויפת מראה‬schön von Gestalt und Angesicht’, edd. Read based on the parallel in StP4 § 43 (see below) ‫???‘ עי] [להא יאמר ;עי]ר א[להא יאמר‬ möge zu Mikhaʾl sagen’, edd. Cambridge, t.-s. ns 322.10, f. 1a.1–7, ed. P. Schäfer and S. Shaked, Magische Texte aus der Kairoer Geniza vol. i (Tübingen, 1993), pp. 83–107 (translation mine).

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

111

into Paradise127 and cut three shoots from there. Strike one in the air, and rain128 will come down, and the second strike on the earth, and it will give fruit,129 and the third strike on the woman and cast out Satan.”130 Gabriel went in as he had been commanded, and he cut three shoots, one from the tree from which Adam had been commanded not to eat, and he struck in the air, and rain came down, and another from the tree of the staff of Moses, and he struck the earth, and it gave fruit,131 and another from (the tree) upon which our Lord was crucified, and he struck the woman and drove out Satan, and she was released from the birth-pangs (…)’ Ancient elements, probably inflected through pre-Christian Aramaic in particular, of the anguished cry (焏‫ܬ ܩܠ‬犯‫ )ܒ‬reaching divine attention and receiving ritual treatment through the mediation of angels, show through in the Syriac. The ‘shoots’ referenced in the Solomon incantation can now be set against the background of a sort of magic wand credited with control over the natural world, which will appear even more distinctly in the final witness to this complex of motifs (below). Modifications for relevance in a Christian context can be seen in turn, the reference to ‘our Lord’ and more particularly the tree that supplied the wood for the crucifix. A different, possibly original setting for the Syriac Solomon incantation in Lo4434 and Mo417 locates the event in private rather than public life, as Solomon builds a house for himself rather than a temple for the deity, which may suggest an origin in Judaeo-Christian lore on the king’s wider exploits. (An intersection of the Syriac tradition with his eponymous Testament is discussed below.) Central to the incantation is the pun on 焏‫ܦ‬焏‫‘ ܟ‬stone’ and the verb 牯‫‘ ܟ‬bend down’, which, along with the artful construction featuring extensive parallelism in syntax, suggests an Aramaic origin for the text. That impression is both reinforced and complicated in turn by two final witnesses. In the first (StP4 §43) the pun is in fact absent, the verb 牯‫ ܟ‬being replaced with ‫ܢ‬煿‫ܓ‬, but the drama plays out in an entirely pre-Christian angelological landscape and sets its hero in a novelistic, even comic light: 127 128 129

130 131

The version in StP4 substitutes ‘the garden of Eden.’ The version in LoA16 substitutes ‘dew’ (焏‫)ܛܠ‬. ‫ܕ‬熏‫ ܘܢܚ‬apparently for ‫ܬ‬熏‫( ܘܢܚ‬as in LoA16 and StP4); the version in StP4 omits the second instruction and substitutes final clauses for the parataxis in both the first and second (‘so that rain … so that it may give …’). The version in StP4 has ‘and cast out the evil Satan from her.’ The versions in LoA16 and StP4 omit the results of the first two strikes; the former reverses the sources of the second and third shoots, such that the tree of the staff of Moses yields the remedy for difficult labour.

112

zellmann-rohrer

焏‫ܦ‬焏‫ܠ ܟ‬熏‫ܢ ܕܢܫܩ‬煿‫ ܘܓ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܕܡ‬煿‫ܐ ܠܫܡ‬狏‫ ܒܝ‬焏‫ ܒܢ‬煟‫ ܕܘܝ‬犯‫ܢ ܒ‬熏‫ܫܠܝܡ‬ ‫ܐ‬犯‫ܝ‬熟‫ܬܗ ܕܚ‬犯‫ ܓܣ‬犯‫ ܘܓܣ‬焏‫ܗ ܕܐܪܝ‬狏‫ ܓܥ‬焏‫ ܓܥ‬.‫ܗ‬犏‫ ܒܚ‬焏‫ܘܩ‬犯‫ܩ ܒ‬犯‫ܘܒ‬ 焏‫ܡ‬狏‫ ܐܘ ܝ‬狏‫ܐ ܛܠܡ‬狏‫ ܐܪܡܠ‬狏‫ܐ ܐܢ‬犯‫ ܥܝ‬煿‫ ܠ‬犯‫ ܘܐܡ‬煿‫ܢ‬狏‫ ܡ‬狏‫ܘܦܩܥ‬ ‫ܐ‬犯‫ ܘܐܙܠ ܥܝ‬狏‫ ܩܦܚ‬焏‫ܡ‬狏‫ ܝ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬狏‫ܐ ܛܠܡ‬狏‫ ܐܪܡܠ‬焏‫ ܠ‬犯‫ ܘܐܡ‬狏‫ܩܦܚ‬ 焏‫ܪܥ‬焏‫ ܠ‬焏‫ ܡܚ‬煟‫ܝ ܚ‬狏‫ ܘܐܝ‬焏‫ܩ‬熏̈‫ܐ ܫܒ‬狏‫ ܬܠ‬煿̇‫ ܡܢ‬犟‫ܢ ܘܦܣ‬煟‫ ܥ‬狏‫ܠܓܢ‬ 焏‫ ܡܚ‬煟‫ܐ ܘܚ‬犯‫ܬ ܡܛ‬犯‫ ܘܐܡܛ‬焏‫ ܠܫܡܝ‬焏‫ ܡܚ‬煟‫ܪܐ ܘܚ‬焏‫ ܦ‬狏‫ܒ‬煿‫ܘܝ‬ ‫ܐ ܕܦ܇ ܒ܇ ܕܦ܇‬犏‫ ܕܚ‬焏‫ܘܩ‬犯‫ܠܒ‬ Solomon son of David built a house for the name of the Lord, and he bent down to pick up a stone, and he strained his back. He cried out the cry of a lion and roared the roar of a hog, and he ruptured his lions. The angel said to him, “Have you wronged the widow, or struck the orphan?” He said, “I have not wronged the widow, and I have not struck the orphan.” The angel went to the garden of Eden and cut from it three shoots and made one blow to the earth, and it gave fruit, and one blow to the air, and it gave rain, and one blow to the back strain of so-and-so, son of so-andso (...) A closing prayer to ‘our Lord’ to assist the same healing as he healed the sight of the blind can be regarded as a later addition to an older core, whose early date is once again suggested by the use of the rarer ‫ܐ‬犯‫ܥܝ‬, a cognate of which is probably to be read also in the Geniza text discussed above, in place of 焏‫ܟ‬焏‫ܡܠ‬ to denote the angel. The second of the final witnesses (Lo5281 § 49) seems to show a later stage of the adaptation of that core, in which the form of the Solomon narrative is close to that of G. A §10, but with the preservation of what now appears as the original purpose of the command to the disciples about their ‘wands’: ‘strike one on the earth, that it may produce fruit (‫ܕܬܬܠ‬ ‫ܪܐ‬焏‫)ܦ‬, another in the air, that it may give rain (‫ܐ‬犯‫)ܕܬܬܠ ܡܛ‬, and another on the right side, that the left side may get relief, of so-and-so son of so-andso.’ The Mar Zîʿâ text is part of subgenre of prayers attributed to saints, in particular their last prayers before death by martyrdom or otherwise, to which special efficacy was attached, and into which the present healing scenario can be conveniently inserted, which recur often in the ‘Book of Protection’ and related texts (see further below). While susceptible to a reading as simple prayers, they also contain and constitute an endorsement and authorisation of the textual amulet, to which internal reference is explicitly made. Mar Zîʿâ himself (ca. 309–431 ce; bho 1251), according to his Life miraculously born to a Christian father and mother in Palestine at the ages of 120 and 93 respectively (his father is said to have been a merchant and a nobleman, but not exactly a ‘chief’),

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

113

whose birth, appropriate to his name, was heralded and accompanied by much ‘disturbance’ (zyʿ) in the natural and demonic worlds, left home for a monastic life as a preternaturally ascetic child at the age of six, eventually founding a monastery at Dāsān and performing miraculous healings throughout the mountainous region north of Mosul.132 He recommends himself for this role in particular through his reputed cleansing by prayer of three entire villages of plague on separate occasions, described in similar terms (,焏‫ܛ‬熏‫ܥ‬犯‫ ܫ‬,焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫ܡ‬ 焏‫ ܡܚܒܠܢ‬焏‫ܟ‬焏‫ ܡܠ‬,焏‫ܛ‬熏‫ܥ‬犯‫ ܫ‬焏‫ܬܢ‬熏‫)ܡ‬.133 His final prayer before his death, in turn, seeking blessing for his monastery, echoes in more general terms the prayer of protection in the amulet.134 These considerations suggest that Gollancz was too hasty in dismissing the witness of Lo6673 to the Solomon incantation as repetitive or corrupt—indeed it provides the crucial climax of the healing exemplum, without which, as in G. A, the whole point of the incantation is lost—, although still superior versions of this incantation can now be identified. As for his comparison to G. A § 20, that incantation against indigestion (‘wind of the heart’) proves to have only a vaguely similar version of the motif of ‘cosmic disturbance’ followed by divine cure prescribed via dialogue. It is attested in a relatively smaller number of new witnesses (Bi583 §24; CaH156 §24; CaH160 § 22; CaH163 § 20; Lo4434 § 14; Mo417 §43; ny2941/2 §11; StP18 §12; Ye10 §15, in which the divine instructions have been conflated with those of the Solomon motif; Ye19 § 22), which nevertheless allow improvements in the constitution of the text. Gollancz rendered the Syriac, which is accompanied by directions variously given before or after to speak it over oil and give to the patient to drink, as follows: Our Lord and his disciples were walking on the way, and they heard the sound of an exclamation, and our Lord said, What sound is this? They replied unto him, It is that of one who bears these writs, having been seized by a cramp (rheumatism) in his heart and in all his members. I said: (as a remedy) for teeth (which have fallen) from the mouth, and for a child (which has fallen) from its mother. Go to the garden of our Lord, and cut three branches, one in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, the second in the

132 133 134

P. Bedjan, Acta martyrum et sanctorum vol. 1 (Paris and Leipzig, 1890), pp. 398–423. Ibid. pp. 416–417, 419. Ibid. p. 423, ‘O examiner of hearts and minds, before you, God, I worship and beg for your mercy for this place and its inhabitants and for every person who remembers your holy name, Lord God almighty, and my name, your servant Zîʿâ, remove from them hail and famine and plague (…) the staff of (your) wrath, and let there be in them no sores, no sickness, no evil illness (…)’.

114

zellmann-rohrer

name of our Lady, the blessed Mary, and the other in the name of Gabriel chief of the angels, and smite the spirit in the heart of the one who carries these writs, by the prayer of the blessed Mar Augin (Eugenius). Amen! In the annotations to the translation, Gollancz speculated that the ‘I said’ was a sort of authorial cross-reference. A superior version of the text in a subgroup of the witnesses (Bi583 CaH156 Lo4434 Mo417 ny2941/2 StP18) shows that a verb has fallen out of the text in G. A, and that the speech belongs in fact to Christ’s interlocutors, intensifying the effects of the commotion, before Christ himself provides the prescription and resolution, which in turn involves tying rather than ‘smiting’, a more appropriate analogue to the control of ‘wind’ sought here. In the interest of space the text of the incantation alone is given following Mo417:

‫ܬܐ‬熏‫ ܕܡܒܓܢܢ‬焏‫ ܩܠ‬熏‫ ܗܘܘ ܘܫܡܥ‬爯‫ ܐܙܠܝ‬焏‫ܘܪܚ‬焏‫ܘܗܝ ܒ‬煟‫ܢ ܘܬܠܡ̈ܝ‬犯‫ܡ‬ .爯‫ ܦܠ‬犯‫ ܒ‬爯‫ܘܗܝ ܕܦܠ‬煟‫ ܬܠܡ̈ܝ‬煿‫ ܠ‬爯‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܐ̇ܡ‬.焏‫ ܗܢ‬焏‫ ܩܠ‬熏‫ܢ ܕܡܢ‬犯‫ ܡ‬犯‫ܘܐܡ‬ 焏‫ܬ ܕܟܟ‬犯‫ ܐܡ‬焏‫ܗܝ ܕܐܢ‬熏̈‫ܘܢ ܗܕܡ‬煿‫ ܘܒܟܠ‬煿‫ ܒܠܒ‬焏‫ ܪܘܚ‬煿‫ܐ ܠ‬煟‫ܐܚܝ‬ ‫ܦ‬熏‫ܢ ܘܩܛ‬犯‫ܗ ܕܡ‬狏‫ܠ ܠܓܢ‬熏‫ ܘܥ‬.煿‫ ܐܡ‬爯‫ ܡ‬爏‫ܐ ܢܦ‬犯‫ ܘܒ‬犿‫ ܢ̇ܩ‬焏‫ܡ‬熏‫ ܦ‬爯‫ܡ‬ 焏‫ܥ ܡܫܝܚ‬熏‫ܢ ܝܫ‬犯‫ ܕܡ‬煿‫ ܒܫܡ‬煟‫ܐ ܩܛܪܐ ܚ‬狏‫ܪ ܬܠ‬熏‫ ܘܩܛ‬焏‫̈ܩ‬熏‫ܐ ܫܒ‬狏‫ܬܠ‬ 焏‫ ܐܢ‬.焏‫̈ܟ‬焏‫ ܪܫ ܡܠ‬爏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܕܓܒ‬煿‫ ܠܫܡ‬焏‫ܢ‬犯‫ ܘܐܚ‬爟‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܕܡ‬煿̇‫ ܒܫܡ‬焏‫ܢ‬犯‫ܘܐܚ‬ .燿‫ ܒܝܡܝܢ‬煿‫ ܠ‬焏‫ ܐܣ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܐܘ ܡ‬焏‫ܟ ܐܢ‬犯‫ܡܒ‬ Our Lord and his disciples were walking on the road, and they heard the sound of crying out, and our Lord said, What is this sound? His disciples said to him, It is that of so-and-so, son of so-and-so. Wind has gripped his heart and all his limbs, such that I thought teeth would be knocked from the mouth, and a child would fall from its mother.135—Go into the garden of our Lord and pluck three shoots136 and tie three knots, one in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ and another in the name of Mary and another for the name of Gabriel chief of the angels. I am the one who blesses—o Lord, heal him by your right hand.137 135

136

137

The version in StP18 alone places a negative (焏‫ )ܠ‬before the verb 犿‫ܢܩ‬, which would change the sense—the disciple would be saying that he has spoken up in order that the impending cosmic disturbance be avoided in the first place—without altering the constitution of the broader motif. ̈ Three witnesses substitute three ‘root-strings of hemp’ (焏‫ ܕܩܢܦ‬焏‫ܛ‬熏‫ܚ‬: CaH163 Lo4434 StP18), attractive if the shoots are suspected as interference from G. A §10, but the latter seem more at home in a garden. A more satisfying doublet is given in StP18: ‘I am the one who writes (the amulet) on earth, and God is the one who heals in heaven’ (the manuscript presents the form 煿‫ܒܫܡܝܢ‬,

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

115

Another opportunity for further discussion on the basis of new witnesses is a passing remark of Gollancz in his preface in regard to G. B § 5, ‘Particular attention should be called to the large number of Fathers and Saints … some perhaps hitherto scarcely or not at all known’.138 The so-called ‘Ban of Paradise’ (焏‫ܕܝܣ‬犯‫ ܕܦ‬焏‫ܡ‬犯‫ )ܚ‬for general apotropaic purposes, which is the vehicle of this catalogue of fathers and saints, can now be recognised also in two variants of G. B §5 (Ev1 §27; Mo417 §10; nh3 §50) as well as G. C § 26 and G. A § 52 and its variants (Be95 §43; Be553 §50; Bi316 § 8; Bi583 § 56; CaH156 § 56; CaH160 §55; Lo6673 §52; ny2941/2 §40; ny2941/3 § 54; PaM § 41; Pr2 § 56; Vi7 § 51). A unique feature common to all is a sub-sequence of varying length listing saints with the same name, John. The most extensive list counts no fewer than 50 Johns (ny2941/3 §54)—compare 23 in G. A, 21 in G. B, 22 in G. C—, and when consolidated they reach 95 individuals, including 91 not listed in the bho. The point of the accumulation is perhaps to trace a succession of homonyms, beginning with John the Baptist and John the Evangelist and carrying on into figures of a more local character (e.g. John of Arzûn, Bi316 Bi583 CaH156 ny2941/2 ny2941/3 Vi7; John of Ašnô, G. C Mo417; John of Gelô, CaH156; John of Georgia, Bi316; John of Rôstāqâ, CaH156). Besides the Johns, the rest of the cast of holy figures would repay closer analysis. In a double presentation in G. B, Mo417, and nh3, the saints neatly mirror righteous predecessors from the Old and New Testaments. In all there are many additions to the saints represented in the witnesses published by Gollancz, for example, some of the ‘Persian’ martyrs of the 4thcentury persecution under Shapur ii and later counterparts: Susan, Anahid, Tarbo, Parugitha, Stratonike, Sultan Mahduk, Thekla, Helena, and Qandaq (CaH156 ny2941/2 ny2941/3). Beyond the ‘Paradise’ texts, the genre of ‘last prayers’ attributed to saints and especially martyrs receives additions including Aḥḥay, disciple of Addai and colleague of Mari (Lo4434 § 116), the Palestinian Mamas, patron of livestock (nh3 §49; Pa424–425 § 32), the Persian Miles (Lo4434 §69; Pa424–425 §18), and the Eastern Christian saint par excellence, Nestorius (Ch12093 §4; Pa347 §30; Mo417 §15; StP4 § 31). This evidence for the inextricable connection of Syriac ‘magic’ with the cult of saints joins that of the medical prognostication treatises in G. A§52 and related witnesses, whose diagnoses include recommendations to visit specific monasteries and obtain healing amulets associated in turn with specific saints.139

138 139

which implies a variation in the exemplar(s) between 焏‫‘ ܒܫܡܝ‬in heaven’ and 煿‫ܒܝܡܝܢ‬ ‘by his right hand’). Book of Protection, p. xi. See in general Hunter, ‘Magic and Medicine’, p. 193.

116

zellmann-rohrer

Beyond new readings, the further witnesses offer entirely new content, a few examples of which may be presented here. The first two come from two large collections in miscellanies, Lo4434 and Pa424–425. They share the following incantation for an eye ailment (Lo4434 §12; Pa424–425 § 17), which presents much obscurity but retains, in its direct address to the eye, an interesting relic of Hellenic myth, namely, alongside the angel Gabriel on whom the healing apparently depends, a reference to the sickle (ἅρπη; here ‘staff’ and ‘rod’) with which the god Kronos castrated his father Ouranos, the bloody drops from which were received as the male seed by the earth-goddess Gaia (Hesiod, Theogony 173– 184).

̈ ‫ ܕܡ‬爯‫ܝ‬煿‫ ܒ‬狏‫ ܘܐܝ‬爯‫ ܕܢܩܫܝ‬焏‫ܕܥܝ̈ܢ‬ ‫ܬܐ‬焏‫ܗܝ ܒ‬熏‫ ܥܝ̈ܢ‬狏‫ܟ ܒܝ‬犯‫ ܒ‬.焏‫ܥ‬ ‫ܐ‬犯‫ ܘܒ‬焏‫ ܐܒ‬爟‫ ܒܫ‬.‫ܚ‬焏‫ ܘܢ‬爯‫ ܓ ܙ̈ܒܢܝ‬焏‫ܡ‬熏‫ ܝ‬爏‫ ܟ‬爯‫̈ܡܝ‬熏‫ ܓ ܝ‬焏‫ܕܨܠܝܒ‬ 熏‫ ܕܢܦܠ‬熏‫ ܡܢ‬.‫ܐ‬狏‫ܠܚ‬煟‫ܐ ܘܡ‬狏‫ܪܫ‬煿‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܥܝܢ‬營‫ ܠܟ‬焏‫ ܡ‬.焏‫ܕܫ‬熏‫ ܕܩ‬焏‫ܘܪܘܚ‬ 焏‫ ܘܠ‬煿‫ܣ ܒܫܒܛ‬熏‫ܘܢ‬犯‫ܗ ܐܘ ܠܩ‬犯‫ܛ‬熏‫ܝ ܒܚ‬狏‫ ܡܚܝ‬.焏‫ܪܥ‬焏‫ ܠ‬焏‫ ܕܕܡ‬焏‫ܐ̈ܓܢ‬ 狏‫ ܢܚ‬.焏‫ ܚܝ‬煿‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܕܫ‬煿‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܕܫ‬焏‫ܦ‬犯‫ ܒܛ‬營‫ܒܟ‬犯‫ ܕܩ‬焏‫̈ܟ‬焏‫ ܡܠ‬犿‫ ܪܝ‬爏‫ܐܝ‬犯‫ܠܓܒ‬ 焏‫ ܬܢܝܢ‬狏‫ ܡܣܩ‬煿‫ ܢܥܣ‬焏‫ ܠ‬.‫ܐ‬熏‫ ܕܝ‬爏‫ ܟ‬煿‫ ܘܟܒܫ‬爟‫ܪܐ ܕܐܘܪܫܠ‬熏‫ ܠܛ‬犟‫ܕܢܣ‬ .爯‫ ܐܡܝ‬焏‫ ܛ̈ܒ‬焏‫ ܠܥ̈ܝܢ‬焏‫ܐ ܕܪܝܩ‬狏‫ܘܪܘܩ‬ For eyes that throb and tear up: make the blessing between the eyes with the sign of the Cross for three days, three times a day, and (the patient) is relieved. ‘In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. What is the matter with you, eye, bewitched140 and terrified? Why have basins of blood fallen to the earth? You have struck with his staff, that is,141 Kronos’, with his rod, and not Gabriel’s, chief of the angels, who touched you with a strike142 of his living release. He went down to ascend143 the mountain of Jerusalem and subdued every demon. Let him not be vexed by the risingup of a serpent and the spittle that is spit into good eyes, amen.’

̈

The ‘basins’ (焏‫ )ܐܓܢ‬possibly continue the punning motif found in the Solomon incantation discussed above, as the word can also denote in a transferred sense a part of the eye itself.144 The complex scenario of causation for the eye disorder apparently includes both the action of the eye (‘striking’ with the staff of Kronos) and serpents believed to spit venom into the eyes.

140 141 142 143 144

‫ܐ‬狏‫ܪܫ‬煿‫ ܡ‬in both manuscripts apparently for ‫ܐ‬狏‫ܫ‬犯‫ܡܚ‬. Apparently ‫ ܐܘ‬for 狏‫ܐܘܟܝ‬. For 焏‫ܦ‬犯‫ ܒܛ‬Lo4434 substitutes 焏‫ܒܫܒܛ‬. Reading of Pa424–425; Lo4434 has ‘he went down and he took’ (焯‫ ܘܢܣ‬狏‫)ܢܚ‬. Sokoloff, Syriac Lexicon, p. 8 (meaning 4).

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

117

In turn the Paris collection is the sole witness to the following ‘blessing’ for disorder of a mother’s breasts that might impede nursing (Pa424–425 § 27), which matches the preceding in efficacy issuing from sheer—but focused— oddity, the anthropologist’s ‘quotient of weirdness’.145

‫ܐ‬煿‫ܐ ܠ‬犯‫ܝ‬熏‫ ܥ‬犯‫ܐ ܒ‬犯‫ܝ‬熏‫ ܥ‬.犿‫ܬܐ ܕܢ̇ܩ‬狏‫ܐ ܕܬܕܐ ܕܐܢ‬狏‫ܪܟ‬熏‫ܬܐ ܒ‬犯‫ܐܚ‬ 燿‫ ܠ‬犯‫ ܘܐ̇ܡ‬燿‫ܐ ܠ‬犯‫ ܩ‬焏‫ܥ ܡܫܝܚ‬熏‫ܢ ܝܫ‬犯‫ܡ‬ ‫ ܕ‬燿‫ ܐܘܪܚ‬爯‫ܫ ܡ‬熏‫ ܦ‬.焏‫ܒܫܒܝܠ‬ ̈ 熏‫ ܝ‬焏‫ܪܬܐ ܕܫܒܥ‬熟‫ ܓ‬爯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܐ̇ܬܐ ܐܢ‬煿‫ ܠ‬犯‫ ܐ̇ܡ‬.狏‫ ܐܢ‬焏‫ ܐܝܟ‬爯‫ܕܡ‬ .‫ܐ‬狏‫ܡ‬ ̇ 焏‫ܐ̇ܙܠܢ‬ ‫ ܐܘ‬煿̇‫ܝ‬煟‫ ܒܚ‬焏‫ܠܢ‬焏‫ ܥ‬.‫ܐ‬犯‫ܬܐ ܘܓܒ‬狏‫ܐ ܕܐܢ‬犯‫ ܒܦܓ‬焏‫ܠܢ‬焏‫ܥ‬ ‫ܢ‬犯‫ ܡ‬煿‫ ܠ‬犯‫ ܐ̇ܡ‬.煿̇‫ܝ‬煟‫ ܚ‬焏‫ ܐܢ‬爏‫ܐ ܘܡܚܒ‬狏‫ܬ ܦܠܢܝ‬犯‫ܐ ܒ‬狏‫ܕ̇ܗ ܕܦܠܢܝ‬狏‫ܒ‬ 煟‫ ܘܚ‬焏‫ ܝܒܝܫ‬煟‫ ܚ‬焏‫ܐ ܐܝܠ̈ܢ‬狏‫ ܬܠ‬燿‫ ܒ‬爯‫ ܘܦܓܥܝ‬爟‫ ܕܐܘܪܫܠ‬焏‫ܘܪܚ‬焏‫ܪܕܝ ܒ‬ 爯‫ܫ ܘܡ‬熏‫ ܬܟܡ‬焏‫ ܟܡܝܫ‬爯‫ ܘܡ‬犿‫ ܬܐܒ‬焏‫ ܝܒܝܫ‬爯‫ ܡ‬.‫ܐ‬犯‫ ܥܩܝ‬煟‫ ܘܚ‬焏‫ܟܡܝܫ‬ ‫ܐ‬狏‫ ܬܕ̇ܗ ܕܦܠܢܝ‬爯‫ ܘܡ‬煿̇‫ܝ‬煟‫ ܚ‬爯‫ܐ ܡ‬煿‫ ܐܠ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ܟ ܡ‬犯‫ܪ ܘܢܥܩ‬熏‫ܐ ܬܥܩ‬犯‫ܥܩܝ‬ .爯‫ ܘܐܡܝ‬爯‫ܐ ܐܝ‬狏‫ܬ̇ܗ ܕܦܠܢܝ‬犯‫ܒ‬ Another blessing for a woman’s breast when it throbs. ‘A blind man, son of a blind man, grew tired on the road. Rest from your journey, for our Lord Jesus Christ calls to you and says to you, Where are you from? He says to him, I am from the isle of the seven days. I am going to enter into the body of woman and man. I will enter into the breast [焏‫ܝ‬煟‫—]ܚ‬that is, the breast [‫—]ܬܕܐ‬of her, so-and-so, daughter of her, so-and-so, and ruin her breast [焏‫ܝ‬煟‫]ܚ‬. Our Lord says to him, Walk on down the Jerusalem road, and you will encounter three trees, one dry, one withered, and one uprooted. Dry up some of the dry one and wither some of the withered one and uproot some of the uprooted one, and may the Lord God uproot you from the breast [焏‫ܝ‬煟‫ ]ܚ‬and the breast [‫ ]ܬܕܐ‬of her, so-and-so, daughter of her, so-and-so, yes, amen.’ The blind man—or perhaps, one-eyed man,146 given the widespread associations of any kind of unusual gaze with the ‘evil eye’ in folklore—apparently figures the affliction of both mother and by extension the nursing child, whose cause, given the references to drying up, should be laid at the failure of the breasts to produce or express milk. The association of withered trees with Jerusalem probably relates ultimately to the episode of the cursing of the fig tree (Matthew 21; Mark 11). Without excluding more local developments, and allowing that, as discussed below, the motif of encounter and redirection of

145 146

B. Malinowski, Coral Gardens and Their Magic (2 vols; New York, 1935), vol. ii, pp. 218–223. For this rarer sense see Sokoloff, Lexicon, p. 1079 (meaning 2).

118

zellmann-rohrer

malevolent forces is widespread in the Aramaic and adjacent traditions, both the motifs of the maimed man and the three trees can be paralleled in ritual texts from the Greek tradition. An incantation transcribed in the early 20th century for glandular swelling (κουφή) puns as follows on the word for ‘mute’ (or ‘deaf’, κουφός), ‘A mute man got a mute woman pregnant, they went to the mute-thicket to cut a mute-plant, to make the sign of the cross over the swelling (κουφή)’.147 Some late manuscripts offer in turn three trees planted in Paradise, apple, rose, and quince, and subsequently ruined as an analogy for the removal of a pox;148 three different trees, sycamore, chestnut, and ‘firewood’ in the fictional city of Aneuis parched by God as an analogy for the removal of splenitis; and figs grown in Jerusalem and subsequently withered as an analogy for the same.149 The new content is most frequent in the larger collections outside of the ‘Book of Protection’ proper, which belong to a substantially different tradition, but additions to the documentation established by Gollancz can be found in the latter too. Two examples that cross the two categories may be given. The first, a remedy for colic, is found in Ch12093 §3 and ny2941/2 § 43.

焏‫ ܘܐܪܡ‬焏‫ܪܐ ܕܚܠܦ‬熏‫ ܘܫܚ‬焏‫ ܫ̈ܒܠ‬焏‫ܠ ܫܒܥ‬熏‫ ܫܩ‬.‫ܐ‬狏‫ܬܐ ܕܡܥܣ‬犯‫ܐܚ‬ ‫ ܪܕܐ‬焏‫ܢ‬煟‫ ܐܟܪܐ ܦ‬犯‫ ܒ‬煟‫ ܕܘܝ‬犯‫ܢ ܒ‬熏‫ ܫܠܝܡ‬.‫ܕܐ‬煿‫ܟ ܒ‬犯‫ ܘܒ‬焏‫ ܟܣ‬營̈‫ ܐܦ‬爏‫ܥ‬ 焏‫ܘܡ‬犏‫ ܩ‬爟‫ܬܐ ܕܒܠܥ‬犯‫ܡ‬熏‫ܐ ܚ‬煟‫ ܚ‬狏‫ ܓܣ‬煿‫ ܒ‬.‫ܬ̇ܗ‬熏‫ ܒܩܠܝܠ‬狏‫ܗܘܐ ܘܩܛܥ‬ 煿‫ܐ ܠ‬犯‫ܬܐ ܘܐܡ‬犯‫ܡ‬熏‫ ܚ‬狏‫ ܘܥܢ‬.狏‫ ܐܢ‬焏‫ ̇ܡܢ‬狏‫ ܕܐܢ‬煿̇‫ ܠ‬犯‫ ܘܐܡ‬爟‫ܕܠܠܝܩܝ‬ 煿‫ܐ ܠ‬犯‫ ܐܡ‬.狏‫ ܐܢ‬焯‫ ܛ‬爯‫ ܕܠ̇ܡ‬煿̇‫ ܠ‬犯‫ ܐ̇ܡ‬.營‫ܢ‬狏‫ ܫܩܠ‬焏‫ܬ ܘܠ‬犯‫ ܥܒ‬焏‫ܕܠ̇ܡܢ‬ .‫ܪ‬熏‫ ܒܥ‬犯‫ ܒ‬焏‫ܘܡ‬犏‫ ܩ‬爟‫ ܕܒܠܥ‬焏‫ ܗܝ ܐܬܢ‬爯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܕܐܢ‬焏‫ܢܝ‬熏‫ ܓ‬營‫ܕܫܡ‬ ‫ܕܪܐ‬熏‫ ܕܚ‬焏‫ܢ‬熏‫ ܩܠ‬焏‫ ܪܫ‬爯‫ܒ‬熟‫ ܚ‬焏‫ ܐܢ‬焏‫ ܕܐܢ‬煿̇‫ ܠ‬犯‫ ܘܐܡ‬爟‫ ܠܠܝܩ‬煿̇‫ܘܐܫܟܚ‬ 焏‫ܐ ܠܡܫܟ‬犯‫ ܒܣ‬爯‫ܐ ܘܡ‬犯‫ ܠܒܣ‬焏‫ ܓܪܡ‬狏‫ ܒܝ‬爯‫ܩ ܡ‬熏‫ ܦ‬.焏‫ܚ‬熏‫ ܒܡ‬焏‫ܕܝܠܝ‬ (…) .焏‫ܐ ܠܡ̈ܝ‬狏‫ ܫܒܠ‬爯‫ܐ ܘܡ‬狏‫ ܠܫܒܠ‬焏‫ ܡܫܟ‬爯‫ܘܡ‬ Another for colic. Take seven ears and black (leaves?) of ḥelfâ-plant and hold them over a cup and make a blessing with the following (speech): ‘Solomon son of David son of farmers was walking the plow, and it cut swiftly. He was met by a she-ass of Balaam the diviner of llyqym, and he

147 148

149

Ed. G.D. Manolakos, ‘Incantations and Bindings’ (in Greek), Laographia 5 (1915–1916), pp. 609–615 (614 no. 13). Vatican, Bibliotheca Apostolica Vaticana Barb. gr. 311, f. 86v, ed. A.I. Almazov, ‘Apocryphal Prayers, Invocations and Spells’ (in Russian), Lětopis’ istoriko-filologičeskago obščestva pri Imperatorskom Novorossijskom Universitetě 9 (1901), pp. 221–340 (320–321 no. 34). The latter two are from St. Petersburg, National Library of Russia Gr. 575, f. 29r–v (unpublished).

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

119

said to her, What are you? The she-ass said to him in reply, Why have you passed by and not taken me? He said to her, What are you good for? She said to him, my name is gwnyʾ, and I am (descended) from that she-ass of Balaam the diviner, son of Beor. There found her the llyqm and said to her, I am Ḥazban, chief cultivator of my very own circuit in the marrow. Come out from among the bones to the flesh and from the flesh to the skin and from the skin to the ear (of the plant) and from the ear to the water. (…)’ The text goes on to repeat the request with reference to the power of God and the action of seven evil spirits. The role of Solomon in incantations is seen here neither for the first nor the last time; more striking are the stress on the agricultural background of his family on the father’s side, and the appearance of the talking she-ass of Balaam, known from scripture (Numbers 22) but with her master re-cast as a diviner, a development rooted in post-biblical Jewish traditions.150 The relation of the unfortunate creature to the illness is uncertain— perhaps an allusion to an analogy between the stopping of her movement imposed by the angel, and blockage of the natural motion of the bowels—, but it serves to introduce the still obscure llyq(y)m (instrument of or colleague in divination?), with a further pun possibly pertaining between 焏‫ܢ‬熏‫ܠ‬熏‫‘ ܩ‬cultivator’ (κόλων) and ‫ܢ‬熏‫ܠ‬熏‫‘ ܩ‬colon’ (κόλον),151 seat of the ‘colic’ targeted by the incantation. The second intersection comes in a formula for an incantation for protection against dogs, which seeks to bind their mouths. A common kernel is shared by Lo4434 §84 and CaH156 §66, which is given here according to the latter before it continues with an addition resembling a formula for the same aim in G. A § 21.

焏‫ܥ ܡܫܝܚ‬熏‫ܢ ܝܫ‬犯‫ܟ ܡ‬犯‫ ܩ‬焏‫ ܐܕܡ ܟܠܒ‬.焏‫ ܕܟܠ̈ܒ‬焏‫ܡ‬熏‫ܐ ܕܦ‬犯‫ܐܣ‬ 燿‫ܡ‬熏‫ܪ ܦ‬熏‫ܢ ܢܣܟ‬犯‫ ܘܡ‬燿‫ ܘܠ‬營‫ ܠ‬狏‫ ܒܝ‬焏‫ ܨܠܝܒ‬犯‫ ܣܟ‬燿‫ܡ‬熏‫ܦ‬ 150

151

Possibly also reflected in Lo5281 § 6 (a remedy for impotence), where the supernatural she-ass, left anonymous, releases ‘the sea that was bound in her net’ (爯‫ ܡ‬犯‫ ܕܐܣܝ‬焏‫ܠܝܡ‬ ‫ܬ̇ܗ‬煟‫ܝ‬犏‫ )ܡ‬in an apparent analogy to the ‘binding’ by which impotence was inflicted. Already Philo (De mutatione nominum 202) calls Balaam an augur (οἰωνοσκόπος); for his role as prophet and sorcerer see further L. Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews, edited and translated by H. Szold and P. Radin, 2nd edn (2 vols; Philadelphia, 2003), vol. ii, pp. 760–779. For the nexus 焏‫ܘܡ‬犏‫ ܩ‬爟‫ ܒܠܥ‬in Syriac see e.g. Severus of Antioch, Letters 6.3, ed. E.W. Brooks, A Collection of Letters of Severus of Antioch from Numerous Syriac Manuscripts (2 vols; Paris, 1915–1920), vol. ii, p. 229 no. 100. Sokoloff, Lexicon, p. 1329.

120

zellmann-rohrer

Binding of the mouths of dogs. ‘Adam called you “dog”, our Lord Jesus Christ shut your mouth, the Cross is between you and me—and may our Lord shut your mouth!’ That knowledge of true or occult names is a source of power is a commonplace of magical thought, and here there is a more particular allusion to Adam’s naming of, and attendant mastery over all animals by divine assent after their creation (Genesis 2:19–20). Among ritual texts in particular there is a parallel in a medieval Latin text that might suggest in turn a shared background in Late Antiquity: addressing an eagle, to protect it from attacking a trained falcon, one informs it, ‘Eagle, eagle, the Lord made you, Adam gave you a name.’152 The coda of Lo4434 gives an interesting reinforcement of the Christian nexus between Adam and Christ, the first and the perfect human, respectively, somewhere between whom the user of the current procedure stands. It cites how, ‘when our Lord entered Jerusalem, the stones gave voice and the dogs gave no bark.’153 An example of new content from within the ‘Book of Protection’ proper can also be given. The formula (CaH163 §38) relates to hunting, opening with a reference to ‘loosening’ of a quarry, previously understood in its use in a related procedure published by Gollancz (G. A § 14) to refer to facilitating the chase.

熯‫ܐ ܢܫܒ‬狏‫ ܕܩܪܢ‬焏‫ ܩܠ‬.焏‫ܕܫ‬熏‫ ܕܩ‬焏‫ܐ ܘܪܘܚ‬犯‫ ܘܒ‬焏‫ ܐܒ‬爟‫ ܒܫ‬.焏‫ܢ‬熏‫ ܕܩ̈ܩ‬焏‫ܝܢ‬犯‫ܫ‬ .‫ܢ‬熏‫ܪܐ ܢܩܥ‬熏‫ ܕܛ‬焏‫ ܪܫ‬爯‫ ܘܡ‬焏‫ ܫܩ̈ܝܦ‬營̈‫ܒ‬狏‫ܢ ܝ‬熏‫ ܢܫܒܚ‬.焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܡ‬焏‫ܡ ܡܠܟ‬煟‫ܩ‬ ‫ܪܐ‬熏‫ ܛ‬狏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܫ‬.‫ܐ‬狏‫ ܦ̈ܩܥ‬狏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܘܫ‬焏‫ ܫ̈ܒܝܠ‬狏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܫ‬焏‫ ܝܒܫ‬狏‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܫ‬焏‫ ܝܡ‬狏‫ܝ‬犯‫ܫ‬ ‫ܗܝ‬熏̈‫ܗܝ ܘܢܫܒ‬熏‫ܗܝ ܘܦ̈ܚ‬熏‫̈ܢ‬熏‫ܗܝ ܘܩܩ‬熏‫ ܚ̈ܓܠ‬營‫ ܠ‬爯‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܫ‬.‫ܐ‬狏‫ ܪܡ‬狏‫ܝ‬犯‫ܘܫ‬ ‫ܐ‬狏‫̇ܗ ܕܦܠܢܝ‬犯‫ ܒ‬爯‫ܬܗ ܕܦܠ‬煟‫ܝ‬犏̈‫ܕܡ‬ Loosening of partridges. ‘In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Let the sound of trumpets give glory before the Lord, the king. Let the cliff-dwellers give glory and cry out from the tops of the mountains. You have released the sea, you have released the dry land, you have released the plains,154 and you have released the valleys. You have released the mountains and you have released the heights. Released for me are the

152

153 154

Edited from a tenth-century manuscript by B. Bischoff, ‘Die älteste europäische Falkenmedizin’, in id. (ed.) Anecdota novissima (Stuttgart, 1984), pp. 171–182 (p. 179; translation mine). ̈ 熏‫ ܢܒܚ‬焏‫ ܠ‬焏‫ ܘܟܠܒ‬熏‫ ܡܠܠ‬焏‫ܦ‬焏‫ ܟ‬爟‫ܘܪܫܠ‬焏‫ܢ ܠ‬犯‫ ܡ‬爏‫ ܥ‬煟‫ܟ‬. For the stones cf. Luke 19:40. ̈ Understand 焏‫ ܫܦܠ‬for the copyist’s 焏‫ܫ̈ܒܝܠ‬.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

121

ḥaglâ-birds and the partridges and the traps and the hunting-nets of him, so-and-so, the son of her, so-and-so.’ A metaphorical sense for this ‘loosening’ is superficially appealing, of ‘flushing out’ the birds, but here at least the reference to loosening traps and nets in addition to the game suggests instead an aggressive ritual procedure designed to hinder a rival’s hunt, especially as just such a ‘binding’ is explicitly mentioned in a variant of G. A §14 in Ye10 §36.155 The text, which takes on the character of a hymn cataloguing the impressive feats of the deity impressed upon the natural world—perhaps more specifically the awe inspired by a theophany—, into which assistance with the present matter of fowling is neatly fitted, remains distinct from a prayer in that the result is never in fact requested, but rather acclaimed as a fait accompli. The language of universal praise includes a Psalmic allusion (97:6), while the ‘cliff-dwellers’ especially figure the mountain-haunting birds themselves, who would be understandably relieved at their freedom, however short-lived. Worth a mention, finally, are examples of new roles as prayer-eponyms and actors in narrative incantation motifs. Already the witnesses published by Gollancz, expanded by the published amulets, offer an extensive cast. They are joined by the likes of St. Onasimo (alias Onasima: bho 814–816) on the occasion of the salvation of her sisters and herself from a fiery furnace (Lo4434 § 22), an Abba Markos whose inflamed spleen is made to ‘wither’ (犿‫ܝܒ‬: Lo5281 § 52), the apostle Simon-Peter on his travels in ‘the city of Asia’ (‫ܐ‬狏‫ܝܢ‬煟‫ ܡ‬焏‫ )ܐܣܝ‬where he counteracted Lilith and other ills imperilling unborn children and thus gained converts (Di225 §10; Lo5281 §18), and the biblical Enosh encountered and dispatched by St Marutha to heal plague-sores (Lo4434 § 63). In a meeting equally incongruous from a chronological perspective, Moses (reprising in part his role in G. A §22, a version of which in Ev1 § 5 presents the narrative in the first person in his voice) witnesses Adam once again exercising his mastery over animals while also invoking the help of three saints (Mo417 § 22).

‫ܥ‬熏‫ ܝܫ‬爯‫ ܙܪܝ‬爯‫ ܙܪܝ‬.焏‫ ܪܚܫ‬煿‫ܘܬܐ ܘܟܠ‬熏̈‫ ܘܚ‬焏‫ܐ ܕܥܩܪܒ‬犯‫ܬܐ ܐܣ‬犯‫ܐܚ‬ 焏‫ ܐܢ‬犟‫ ̇ܣܠ‬焏‫ܐ ܚܝ‬煿‫ܗ ܕܐܠ‬煟‫ ܥܒ‬焏‫ܫ‬熏‫ ܡ‬焏‫ ܐܢ‬狏‫ܩ‬犯‫ ܘܐܡ ܦ‬爯‫ܙܪܓܝ‬ ‫ܐ‬狏‫ܝܠ‬熏‫ܐ ܚ‬煟‫ ܚ‬營‫ ܒ‬狏‫ܪܐ ܘܦܓܥ‬熏‫ܪܐ ܠܛ‬熏‫ ܛ‬爯‫ ܡ‬狏‫ܪܐ ܘܣܠܩ‬熏‫ ܛ‬焏‫ܫܒܥ‬ ‫ܕܡ‬焏‫ ܠ‬狏‫ܗ ܘܡܚ‬狏‫ ̇ܗܠܟ‬焏‫̇ܗ ܘܬܡܢ‬犏‫ܡܪܐ ܒܚ‬熏‫ ܚ‬牟‫ܐ ܫܒ‬狏‫ܘܡܚܒܠ‬

155

This invocation, only loosely comparable to that in G. A, ends with, ‘let the hunting of this your servant be released, if it is bound’ (犯‫ ܐܢ ܐܣܝ‬焏‫ܟ ܗܢ‬煟‫ܗ ܕܥܒ‬煟‫ܪܐ ܨܝ‬狏‫)ܢܫ‬.

122

zellmann-rohrer

焏‫ܒ‬犯‫ ܐܘ ܥܩ‬煿̇‫ ܠ‬犯‫ ܐ̇ܡ‬.‫ܗ‬煟‫ܐ ܕܐܝ‬狏‫ܬ ܫܪܝ‬犯‫ܗ ܘܫ‬煟‫̇ܗ ܕܐܝ‬狏‫ܒܚܠ‬ ‫ܝ‬犯‫ ܘܡ‬焏‫ܩ‬熏‫ܝ ܠ‬犯‫ ܒܡ‬營‫ ܠܟ‬焏‫ܢ‬犯‫ ܘܐܣ‬營‫ܬܝ ܠ‬犯‫ܐ ܐܣܝ‬狏‫ܡܢܝ‬犯‫ܐ ܘܚ‬狏‫ܡܚܒܠܢܝ‬ ̈ ‫ ܣ‬焏‫ܝܢ‬犯‫ܦ‬熏‫ܝ ܩ‬犯‫ ܘܡ‬焏‫ܩ‬熏‫ܦ‬ (…) 焏‫ܝ̈ܚ‬犏‫ܕܐ ܢ‬煿 Another, a binding of scorpions and snakes and all reptiles. ‘Zryn zryn Jesus zrgyn wʾm prqt. I, Moses, servant of the living God, was going up seven mountains, and I went up from mountain to mountain, and there met me a serpent, and she was killing seven donkeys with her tail, and eight she was leading. She stung Adam on the palm of his hand, and she released the joints of his hand. He said to her, Scorpion, ruinous and accursed, you are bound for me and I bind you by St Luke and St Phocas and St Cyprian, the glorious martyrs (…)’ The ellipse of time from the protoplast Adam to the prophet Moses to the martyrs goes hand-in-hand with the conflation between snake and scorpion to give the proceedings an air of comforting universality. The scope of the formulae witnessed by the new manuscripts is also broadened, beyond the personal protection, healing, and advancement that are the concern of the ‘Book of Protection’ as known from the publication of Gollancz. Aims of this kind certainly continue to be well represented, and even expanded: procedures to help free the imprisoned (nh § 17) and resolve marital problems (CaH156 §62; Lo4434 §§27–41, 110), several for the protection of apiculture (CaH160 §64; Lo4434 §§85–86; ny 2941/2 § 45; Pa424–425 §§ 45– 48; StP4 §40; Ye10 §47), two for facilitating learning (Lo4434 §§ 100–101), and even a reflex of the Late Ancient and medieval Jewish tradition of the ‘dreamrequest’ for divination (Vi7 §42), which appears in turn in one of the related codices with a Garshuni component that suggests a further intersection with contemporary Arabic magical traditions (Va469), as does a Garshuni invocation in the course of divination to catch a thief via a female medium (Lo5281 § 54). The same codex (Lo5281 §55) gives another means for thief-catching by writing down the names of the suspects and observing the movement of the papers in water, part of a tradition with a complex background in both Christian and Jewish ritual in medieval Europe, with roots in turn in Late Antiquity.156 A more aggressive aim has already been suggested above in one case of a new formula. It is joined in the sphere of commercial rivalry by procedures

156

G. Bohak, ‘Catching a Thief: The Jewish Trials of a Christian Ordeal’, Jewish Studies Quarterly 13 (2006), pp. 344–362.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

123

to interrupt the workings of a mill (Lo5281 §§58–59), in part via a Garshuni invocation referring to Solomon’s sealing of four jinn, and to hinder the heating of an oven (‫ܪܐ‬熏‫ܬܢ‬: StP4 §39), which can be counteracted in turn by reciting the reference to analogous releasing in Psalm 146:7c three times, or that of a furnace (焏‫ܐܬܘܢ‬: Lo5281 §§21–22), similarly released in turn via Psalm 102:19–20. Several more definite instances can be added. A proper curse is inflic̈ ‫ ܕ‬焏‫)ܪܫ‬ ted on an enemy by an invocation of the ‘chief of demons’ (‫ܕܐ‬焏‫ܫ‬ who is to derange the target’s mind (CaH160 §67), while a curse of more limited scope, in the genre of erotic magic, asks further demons to torment a beloved with burning discomfort such that she is unable to eat, drink, or even stand until she sees the beneficiary (CaH160 §68), a technique familiar from magical texts of the Late Antiquity.157 The same manuscript offers yet another procedure turning the tables, for use by a wife to regain the love of her husband (CaH160 § 72): it combines the ritual deposition of hair from the target’s head under the threshold of the house with the recitation of Psalm 46, whose opening invocation of God as ‘our house of refuge’ (爯‫ܣ‬熏‫ ܓ‬狏‫ )ܒܝ‬neatly responds to the direction that the hair be stolen (‫ܣ‬熏‫ )ܓ‬from the man’s head, then analogically bound to the household (‫ܐ‬狏‫)ܒܝ‬. Desire, for the purpose of favour in public life rather than sex or marriage, is couched in similar terms of ‘burning’ and pursued in one case with internal reference to an accompanying ritual analogue: the target should be affected ‘as this writing is burned in the oven’ (‫ܪܐ‬熏‫ܢ‬狏‫ܐ ܗܕܐ ܒ‬狏‫ܝܒ‬狏‫ ܟ‬焏‫ܙܠ‬熏‫ܓ‬狏‫ ܕܡ‬燿‫ܐܝ‬: Lo5281 § 46). The separation of two persons, apparently for the benefit of a third in an unspecified relation to either, may also be sought (Lo5281 §§ 47–48). Aggressive procedures are also represented in the manuscript of ‘charms’ seen by George Percy Badger in the region of Mosul in the 1840s and excerpted in English paraphrase.158 The invocation of demons just seen, in sharp contrast to that of Christian holies, is rare. At a safer remove, the sending of demons against enemies by a higher power, and even the visitation of Satan, is sought in a new procedure known from two witnesses (CaH162 §13; Di225 § 1). While the language harks back to biblical precedent (adapting Psalm 109:6), the gravity of this escalation is internally acknowledged, it would seem, by a peculiar disposition in which the name 焏‫ ܣܛܢ‬itself is apotropaically deformed by the writing of the last

157

158

For this ‘erotic curse’ see C.A. Faraone, Ancient Greek Love Magic (Cambridge, MA, 1999), pp. 59–61; references to papyrological attestations are collected in the commentary to P.Oxy. lxxxii 5304 ii 8. Nestorians, vol. i, pp. 238–240.

124

zellmann-rohrer

three of its consonants upside-down, and so too the name of one of the demons (CaH162, f. 20a–b; with a similar treatment for Satan in the version of G. A § 26 in Ye19 §25). Beyond the texts themselves, their continued collection and study allows progress on larger questions of context. Contradicting the impression of Gollancz that such texts are ‘extremely rare’,159 they now number no fewer than 69, with at least 38 for the ‘Book of protection’ alone,160 joined by 15 manuscripts containing related material in miscellaneous collections and 17 finished amulets (not including their earlier counterparts). A similarly broadened geographic and temporal context can be established: such texts were by no means confined to the mountainous Hakkari region as might have been expected from the small sample made available by Gollancz, as they are now on record in the cities of Amida, Mosul, and Urmia, and reflections of the same tradition in the fragmentary manuscripts from Malabar (Ca1167) and Turfan (including also Sogdian)161 suggest a diffusion far to the east as part of missionary activity, which invites further investigation. Their copying can now be shown to have extended over a longer period, both earlier (1714 for StPS1, the earliest internally dated witness) and later (1932 for StPS26), while the finished amulets bring this range dramatically into the Middle Ages, as two are securely dated by archaeological context before 1283 (Bei1 Bei2), a period to which the Turfan material, which for reasons of space cannot be considered further here, may also be assigned. These last provide an equally precious datum for geographical context, localised in coastal Lebanon, far to the west of the other artefacts. The extension of witnesses to this tradition to an earlier period in turn gives an opportunity for contextualisation within ritual traditions of the region and farther west, contemporary and more ancient. (Diachronic continuity is further considered, in terms of magical-medical practitioners, in the contribution of Siam Bhayro to this volume). Gollancz had already broached the subject years before the publication of his 1912 collection, remarking of his codices, ‘I 159 160

161

Book of Protection, p. ix. The existence of two further unpublished manuscripts in Tbilisi is signalled by Schmidt and Abousamra, ‘Une amulette syriaque’, p. 146 n. 6; this count also omits the two manuscripts of ‘charms’ only glancingly described by Badger, Nestorians, vol. i, pp. 238–240, and R.J.H. Gottheil, ‘References to Zoroaster in Syriac and Arabic Literature’, in Classical Studies in Honour of Henry Drisler (New York and London, 1894), pp. 24–51 (31–32), respectively. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Traversing Time and Location: A Prayer-Amulet of Mar Tamsis from Turfan’, in L. Tang and D.W. Winkler (eds), From the Oxus River to the Chinese Shores: Studies on East Syriac Christianity in China and Central Asia (Zurich, 2013), pp. 23–39, and ‘Syriac Prayer-amulets from Turfan’, The Harp 33 (2018), pp. 413–438.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

125

do not touch here upon the consideration as to whether they are of Syriac originals or translations from the Greek, seeing that many of the Proper Names, specially of demons, appear to have Greek forms … however … not a few of these charms and exorcisms resemble very closely ancient Assyrian incantations’.162 It may now be taken as axiomatic that the traditional origins of rituals should be sought first within or as close as possible to the communities in which they are embedded, and that this inquiry should not be privileged above the determination of internal meaning to those who actually participated in the tradition of the texts. This contribution has no new native informants to offer, past or present, and can only present some tentative suggestions on groupings of documents as the oeuvre of known copyists: George son of Zîʿâ of Shibani (CaH160, G. A, Lo6673), Ṣlîbâ son of Gammô of Salmas (Be95, Be553), Elijah son of Stephan of Mawānâ (LoA17, PaM, whose dates, if correctly read, give him a career of at least 60 years), Zerwandad son of Safar of Rabnaṯ (Bi583, ny2941/4), the last of particular interest as demonstrating the production of handbooks and amulets by the same man. Some analysis of antecedents may nevertheless be cautiously attempted. The intent will be to give serious consideration to the possibility raised by Gollancz, but left virtually untouched by his predecessors,163 of a significant role for translation in the makeup of the Syriac texts. The background of the Solomon incantation (G. A § 10 and variants) has already been mentioned in this respect. In its poetic architecture, the text suggests an origin for itself within Aramaic, but the Solomonic lore might point to an interdialectal translation, namely from an incantation originally composed in Jewish Aramaic. Also close to home for the Syriac documents, the shared terminology of binding (ʾsr) and sealing (ḥtm) with incantation bowls and amulets on other media in Jewish Aramaic and Syriac of Late Antiquity and the early Medieval period deserves a fuller treatment than can be offered here,

162

163

Gollancz, ‘Selection of Charms’, pp. 77–78; the divine names and magical words in the Late Ancient Syriac texts have recently been investigated by F. Ruani, ‘Formations et origines des nomina barbara dans les objets magiques syriaques de ve–viie siècles’, in M. Tardieu, A. Van den Kerchove, and M. Zago (eds), Noms barbares 1: Formes et contextes d’ une pratique magique (Turnhout, 2013), pp. 301–314, who finds roles for both Greek and earlier Semitic languages in their composition. An exception is the recent work of A. Lyavdansky, ‘Syriac Charms in Near Eastern Context: Tracing the Origin of Formulas’, in T.A. Mikhailova, J. Roper, A.L. Toporkov, and D.S. Nikolayev (eds), Oral Charms in Structural and Comparative Light: Proceedings of the Conference of the International Society for Folk Narrative Research (isfnr) Committee on Charms, Charmers and Charming, 27–29 October, Moscow (Moscow, 2011), pp. 15–21, who considers two examples from among the material published by Gollancz.

126

zellmann-rohrer

and an engagement with amuletic texts in Mandaic is also a desideratum.164 The motif of encounter and redirection of harmful forces by beneficent ones is enduringly popular in the Greek tradition,165 but a Jewish example involving a Talmudic sage, the rabbi Ḥanina ben Dosa, and a demoness on incantation bowls is also relevant.166 The rich Jewish tradition of angelology, the assignment of angels in elaborate hierarchies to spheres of competence in the human and natural world down to a minute scale, is refracted through obvious signs of translation in invocations in the Syriac texts of angels such as ‘those who preside [literally, sit] over human feet’ to encourage customers to come running to the user’s shop.167 As for the nearest great civilisation to the east, Persian influence can only occasionally be detected. The most intriguing text unfortunately remains unpublished and inaccessible: aimed at healing boils (as also G. A § 53), it was cited in translation from a private collection (‘Rev. Mr. Yohannan’) by R.J.H. Gottheil as a fragmentary collection of prayers and ‘charms’.168 As it draws a direct relation between the prophecy of Zoroaster and the birth of Christ and appears little known in the scholarship on the Book of Protection, Gottheil’s version, lightly adjusted, seems worth re-printing. Zardosht the prophet prophesied saying, A time will come when they see a star in the heavens having the likeness of a mother with a son in her arms. The time came, and they saw the star. Twelve kings set out from Persia to go to Jerusalem. Before the cock could crow, they had reached Jerusalem. They saw King Herod, who said to them, Where do you come from and where are you going? They answered, A king has been born in Bethlehem, and we have come to worship him. Then the star fell down in front of them; they went and worshipped the child who had been born. 164

165 166 167

168

For the bowls, see the contribution by Marco Moriggi in this volume; for textual crossovers between the bowls and amulets, and between Jewish Aramaic and Mandaic, E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Combat and Conflict in Incantation Bowls: Studies on Two Aramaic Specimens from Nippur’, in M.J. Geller, J.C. Greenfield, and M.P. Weitzman (eds), Studia Aramaic: New Sources and Approaches. Papers Delivered at the London Conference of the Institute of Jewish Studies, University College London, 26th–28th June 1991 (Oxford, 1995), pp. 61–77. Zellmann-Rohrer, ‘Continuity and Change’, p. 288. S. Shaked, S. Bhayro, and J.N. Ford, Aramaic Bowl Spells: Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Bowls (Leiden, 2013), pp. 53–55. StP4 § 12: 焏‫ ܢܫ‬營̈‫ܘܢ ܕܒܢ‬煿‫ ܪܓܠܝ‬爏‫ ܥ‬爯‫ܒܝ‬狏‫ܕܝ‬, apparently a calque of a Greek epithet in ὁ καθήμενος ἐπί as often in Late Ancient angelological lists (M. Zellmann-Rohrer, ‘Seth on Mount Sinai: A Coptic Magical Formulary with a Prayer and Theophany of the Biblical Seth’, Zeitschrift für Ägyptische Sprache 144 (2017), pp. 240–254 (p. 241)). ‘References to Zoroaster’, pp. 31–32.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

127

They opened their treasure chests and brought him offerings: gold, myrrh, and frankincense. They asked for a set of swaddling clothes. They then went to Persia, made a great fire, and threw the swaddling clothes of our Lord upon the fire. Before the swaddling clothes of our Lord the fire went out. In this manner may the boils go out and leave and be uprooted from the body of so-and-so, the son of so-and-so (…) The absence of information on the provenance of this manuscript limits potential conclusions, but a retroactive Christianisation of both Zoroastrian prophecy and fire-worship would be of the most obvious appeal in a Late Ancient Persian context. A background in the multicultural and multilingual ritual texts of Late Antiquity can be demonstrated more solidly in several cases. We have already seen a reference to the myth of Kronos and his bloody sickle, to which mention of the famous sorceress Medeia may be added, who by that fame had already won a role in Greek narrative incantations, specifically as seeker of herbal remedies for inflammation.169 Here (Mo417 §18) there is only a fragment, appended to a variant of a procedure known already in G. A (§ 53) to cure boils, of what must have been a longer narrative of her encounter with an anonymous hero,

‫ܐ‬狏‫ܫ‬犯‫ܣ ܚ‬熏‫ܝ‬煟‫ܬ ܡ‬熏‫ܪܘܬܐ ܘܐ̇ܙܠ ܠ‬煿‫ ܘܢ‬焏‫ܐ ܨܪܐ ܝܡ‬犯‫ܐ ܓܢܒ‬犯‫ܓܒ‬ ‫ܝ‬狏‫ ܐܢ‬焏‫ ܐܙܠ‬焏‫ܝܟ‬焏‫ ܠ‬煿̇‫ ܠ‬犯‫ܘܐܡ‬ A valiant man split the sea and the rivers and was going to Medea [‫ܣ‬熏‫ܝ‬煟‫ ]ܡ‬the sorceress, and he said to her, Where are you going? That the original aim of this quest was to obtain a remedy from her expertise, as referenced in the Greek parallel, seems likely if beyond proof. The identity of the ‘valiant man’ (‫ܐ‬犯‫ܐ ܓܢܒ‬犯‫ )ܓܒ‬remains obscure, but in light of the traditional context the Argonaut Jason, who sought comparable assistance from Medea, suggests himself. Another refraction of the Greek names of mythical figures, anticipated by Gollancz, may be found in one more of the texts not yet known to him: a procedure for the protection of flocks from wolves, in which an acclamation is made of the presence of supernatural guard-dogs with appar-

169

Hippiatrica Parisina 156 with R.M. Heim, ‘Incantamenta magica graeca latina’, Jahrbücher für classische Philologie Suppl. 19 (1893), pp. 463–576 (496 no. 106).

128

zellmann-rohrer

ently ancient names: ‘Titous and Kallinous and Hadrious the voracious bitches are the ones who watch over the lambs in the flocks of so-and-so, son of soand-so’.170 At the end of another procedure to promote the social standing of the beneficiary, a genre already well attested in the material published by Gollancz (e.g. G. A §40), comes an adaptation of a quite unexpected motif (Ma52 § 22). The targets of the new-found popularity are to follow him about ‘from house to house, from village to village, from place to place, and from street to street’. This phrasing proves to be an adaptation of a very ancient Egyptian metaphor in which the effect on the target of erotic magic is compared to the behaviour of breeding pairs of animals seeking each other out, which is also reflected in Coptic texts of Late Antiquity, one of which gives a very similar sequence ‘from village to village, from city to city, from field to field, from place to place’.171 The animal similes in turn—but not the ‘from … to …’ sequence—are paralleled in some Mandaean magical formularies copied in 20th-century Baghdad (dog and bitch; he-goat and she-goat; bull and cow; fish and fisherman).172 The prospect of a relation between Egypt and the Mandaean tradition, in turn, invites a mention of occasional echoes of Gnosticism, dividing and reappropriating the features and epithets of the supreme Jewish deity, as in the case of a reference to ‘Adonai who is above the heavens’ and ‘his son who is beneath the earth’.173 On the subject of the Graeco-Egyptian nexus, the Syriac texts appear also to owe to that background the use of the mother’s name (matronymic) in formulae for identifications in place of the patronymic as usual in daily life. This practice, whatever its internal logic, in a magical context surely harks back to an ancient Egyptian formula, which was directly translated into Greek

170

171

172 173

̈

StP4 § 18: ‫ܗܝ‬熏‫ܗܝ ܠܩܢܝܢ‬熏‫ܐ ܕܚܝܪܢ ܥܪܒ‬狏‫ܢܝ‬犯‫ܐ ܓܪܓ‬狏‫ܣ ܟܠ̈ܒ‬熏‫ܣ ܘܗܕܪܝ‬熏‫ܣ ܘܟܠܝܢ‬熏‫ܛܛ‬ ‫ܕܦ܇ ܒ܇ ܕܦ܇‬. The female gender of the animals made clear by ‫ܐ‬狏‫ܢܝ‬犯‫ܐ ܓܪܓ‬狏‫ܟܠ̈ܒ‬ ‫ ܕܚܝܪܢ‬is at odds with the masculine forms of these names (Titus, etc.) that the Syriac transliterations initially suggest; we have to do rather with by-forms produced by addition of the suffix -οῦς, popular in Greek names in Late Antiquity; compare also the acclamation of the presence of ‘the ferocious hound Titianus’ (ὁ λάβραξ κοίων Τιτιανός) on an amulet from the latter period: J. Spier, ‘An Antique Magical Book Used for Making Sixth-Century Byzantine Amulets?’, in V. Dasen and J.-M. Spieser (eds), Les savoirs magiques et leur transmission de l’ Antiquité à la Renaissance (Florence, 2014), pp. 43–66 (pp. 62–65; see now seg lxvi 2151). P. Smither, ‘A Coptic Love-charm’, Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 25 (1939), pp. 173–174; see in general D. Frankfurter, ‘The Perils of Love: Magic and Countermagic in Coptic Egypt’, Journal of the History of Sexuality 10 (2001), pp. 480–500 (485–497). Drower, ‘Mandaean Book’ pp. 164 nos. 45–46, 166 no. 24. StP18 § 26: 焏‫ ܐܪܥ‬爯‫ ܡ‬狏‫ܚ‬狏‫ܗ ܗܘ ܕܠ‬犯‫ ܒ‬爟‫ ܒܫ‬焏‫ ܫܡܝ‬爯‫ ܡ‬爏‫ ܗܘ ܕܠܥ‬營‫ ܐܕܘܢ‬爟‫ܒܫ‬.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

129

and thereby diffused through the circulation of ritual handbooks.174 In fact a more direct reflection of that translation is found in the early Syriac Pa400, in which the precise structure of the formula, a relative clause ‘whom she (the mother) bore,’ is rendered (there ‫ܬ‬煟‫ܕܝܠ‬: syr. 400/1.19, 50) alongside the more common filiation-type with ‫ܬ‬犯‫ܒ‬. It is made explicit in several of the texts already encountered by the feminine forms of placeholders (‘son of her, soand-so’ and similar) and is reflected also in personalisation of both formularies (Be95 Be553 Di225 Ev1) and amulets (Bei1 CaH159 ny2941/4 Ox3 Ye9–90), as well as colophons where the name of the patron’s mother is recorded or at least intended to have been (Be95 Bi583 CaH156 CaH160 Lo6673). The same magical significance of the metronymic identification is probably also reflected in the psephistic calculation of the medical prognostics that travel with the ‘Book of Protection’ (see 4 above). A link with Jewish traditions, inflected through Greek texts, is also suggested by a procedure for an amulet to rid a house of snakes and scorpions by inscription of the name of Adam at its four corners (Lo4434 § 94). In the Geoponica, a Greek compendium of agricultural advice compiled in the early Byzantine period from Late Ancient and in some cases earlier sources, there is a comparable procedure attributed to the ancient sage Democritus to protect a dovecote from snakes. It has been shown to relate to a tradition in which this name embodies the four cardinal directions, and hence the entirety, of creation as an acronym of ἀνατολή, δύσις, ἄρκτος, and μεσημβρία.175 The Syriac text adds the name of Eve, and neither text refers explicitly to the acronym, but the specification of the four corners of the structure to be protected makes its underlying presence likely. A link with an incantation popular further west in medieval Europe, widely attested in Latin and Greek as well as vernacular languages, the so-called ‘Three Brothers charm’176 to promote the healing of flesh wounds and protect against infection, can also be identified. In the West it is a narrative motif of three brothers on a mission to gather herbs to treat such wounds, who are met and 174

175 176

J.B. Curbera, ‘Maternal Lineage in Greek Magical Texts’, in D.R. Jordan, H. Montgomery, and E. Thomassen (eds), The World of Ancient Magic: Papers from the First International Samson Eitrem Seminar at the Norwegian Institute at Athens, 4–8 May 1997 (Bergen, 1999), pp. 195– 203; J. Dieleman, ‘What’s in a Sign? Translating Filiation in the Demotic Magical Papyri’, in A. Papaconstantinou (ed.), The Multilingual Experience in Egypt, from the Ptolemies to the Abbasids (Farnham, 2010), pp. 127–152. Geoponica 13.9.6 (similarly 13.8.4) with Zellmann-Rohrer, ‘“Psalms Useful for Everything”’, p. 128 n. 26. See recently L. Olsan, ‘The Three Good Brothers Charm: Some Historical Points’, Incantatio 1 (2011), pp. 48–78.

130

zellmann-rohrer

advised by Christ, after swearing to make the cure freely available, to use a simpler preparation including an incantation citing the analogous preservation of his wound from infection after the lancing at the crucifixion. Here (Lo4434 § 68) a troop of 12,000 angels takes the place of the brothers, and Gabriel that of Christ, but the core structure, including the internal prescription of an incantation, persists. A relation more specifically to Greek texts comes through in a motif cataloguing the locations in which and the means by which a binding-curse may be deposited, facilitating in turn its counteraction. A consolidated list from the five instances known so far (Lo4434 §§29, 37; Lo5281 §§ 6, 10; Ma52 § 16) mentions deposition in the tombs of ‘sinners’, of the untimely dead, of monks, and of Jews, in caves, monasteries, mountains, cliffs, fields, water, fire, the threshold of a house, a crossroads; with the help of angels, celestial bodies, and knottying; and inscription on human177 and animal bones and teeth, parchment, cotton, antimony, needles, reeds, gold, silver, bronze, lead, iron, stone, wood, plants, and in any of the 72 languages. Aside from the sweeping perspective on the varieties of injurious magic believed to be abroad in the world—and the pervasive anxiety that must have accompanied them—there is a connection to a Late Ancient and medieval Greek apotropaic tradition. The so-called ‘Prayer of Cyprian’ gives a comparable but briefer catalogue, which may indeed have been grafted into that text from an originally separate origin, in line with that saint’s specialism in the releasing of bindings of the sort that he used to inflict as a magician, before his conversion to Christianity. It includes deposition on the seashore, in rivers, the sea, tombs of a righteous man or a sinner, the threshold or lintel of house, the leaf of a tree, or a roof, and inscription on gold, silver, bronze, iron, stone, wood, lead, tin, animal hide, fish skin, deerskin, with ink or cinnabar, in any of the ‘twelve languages’.178 Another motif of cataloguing gives a similar impression, in which fever and other diseases are identified with ethnic adjectives. ‘Jewish’ is favoured above all (as already in G. A §§4 and 28), possibly related to a legend about the origins of fever(-demons) at the beheading of John the Baptist by Herod,179 but ‘Arab’, ‘Armenian’, and ‘Turkish’ also appear. ‘Alan’ (‫ܐ‬狏‫ܐܠܢܝ‬, CaH163 §§ 12–13;

177

178 179

The mention of inscription on human skulls (焏‫ܐ ܕܐܢ̈ܫ‬狏‫ܩܦ‬犯‫ ܩ‬爏‫ )ܥ‬in particular recalls the Jewish Aramaic curses inscribed on the same substrate, for which see G. Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic: A History (Cambridge, 2008), pp. 193–194. Edited by T. Schermann, ‘Die griechische Kyprianosgebete’, Oriens Christianus 3 (1903), pp. 303–323 (318.3–15); for another version see F. Bilabel in P.Bad. v, pp. 236–237. For other reflections of that legend see M. Zellmann-Rohrer, ‘A Lawsuit with a Headless Adversary: A Greek Incantation Motif’, Archiv für Religionsgeschichte 22 (2020), pp. 51–83.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

131

Mo417 §4; Pa424–425 §34), which must refer to the nomadic tribe that burst onto the Mediterranean scene in Late Antiquity, again suggests origins at that time, and a Hellenic perspective surfaces in the inclusion of ‘Syrian’, ‘Median’ and the characteristically Greek pejorative ‘barbarian’ (CaH162 § 7; Mo417 § 4; Ye10 §4) in the catalogue to the exclusion of ‘Greek’ itself. Further complexity is introduced by the version in Ev1 §7: first the possibilities of ‘Arab’, ‘Turkish’, and ‘Roman’ (‫ܐ‬狏‫ܪܗܘܡܝ‬, here perhaps equivalent to ‘Byzantine’), fevers are introduced, then different adjurations are applied based on religious affiliations, by the (Mosaic) Law (‫ܐ‬狏‫ܘܪܝ‬焏‫ )ܒ‬if the fever is ‘Jewish’, by the still obscure meṣḥaf if it is ‘pagan’ (‫ܐ‬狏‫)ܚܢܦ‬, and by the gospel (‫ܢ‬熏‫ܘܢܓܠܝ‬焏‫ )ܒ‬if it is ‘Syrian’—by this stage the frame of reference has been re-centred upon Eastern Christianity. The co-occurrence of these lists with specification of fevers ‘of every kind’ (爿‫ ܓܢ‬爏‫ )ܕܟ‬via the Greek loanword γένος is also a clue to the origins of the racial motif in a pun on the multiple valences of γένος, biological race and categorical type. The ritual significance of the figure of Solomon has been encountered already. His famous ring is reproduced directly as an amuletic device (G. A § 41) and invoked in its own right in adjurations (e.g. G. A § 35). The legendary building project of the Jerusalem Temple—to which the backache incantation discussed above attached itself—and Solomon’s demonological prowess had given rise in Late Antiquity to a Greek treatise framed as an autobiographical account, the so-called Testament of Solomon, of how the king gained help in that enterprise from many demons, which would otherwise have been at large and causing harm. Fittingly, a direct translation of a substantial excerpt from that text can now be identified as a constituent of a ‘Ban of King Solomon’ in one of the Syriac miscellanies, with interesting divergences including in the names of the demons and the substitution of Gabriel for Michael as the source of the ring used to harness them.180 A more cosmopolitan direction to complement the local development of the cult of saints witnessed elsewhere in the tradition is the no less highly specialized role for two saints, Luke and Phocas, in an incantation against reptiles already encountered (Mo417 §22), where the pair, alongside Cyprian, are invoked with surprising prescience by Adam. Such an apotropaic role for a St Phocas is already attested in Greek in a Late Ancient papyrus amulet from Egypt, where he is said to command an entity whose name has been lost— but which has a good chance of being reptilian—from appearing in the place 180

Mo417 § 11; compare especially 1.1–1.14 of the Greek text in the edition of C.C. McCown, The Testament of Solomon: Edited from Manuscripts at Mount Athos, Bologna, Holkham Hall, Jerusalem, London, Milan, Paris and Vienna (Leipzig, 1922), pp. 5*–13*.

132

zellmann-rohrer

under protection.181 In turn he is paired with a St Luke in a lengthy Byzantine incantation for protection from the bites of noxious animals more generally: ‘Saint Luke, Phocas with five iron fingers, stand brandishing your iron, bind the snake, the viper, and every evil thing crawling upon the earth, for the lord Jesus Christ has ordained that after sunset it not be shaken.’182 An application of a Psalm, selected on the principle of analogy to the desired result of the procedure, may provide a final example. It will be recalled that the Psalter in general is the central source for the scriptural borrowings that run throughout these texts, but the present case illustrates both a high degree of specificity and potential interconnection with traditions outside of Mesopotamia. A procedure for ‘releasing’, which in context should refer more specifically to the release of magical binding of a man’s sexual potency (Lo4434 § 35),183 calls for the anointment of the bodies of both husband and wife with liquid mercury over which ritual speech has been made, including Psalm 23:4 and Psalm 24:7–10. These Psalms, with their references to a reliable rod and staff and to lifting, rising and opening in preparation for a glorious entrance, could independently have suggested themselves as an analogy for a successful coupling. But a recommendation to write precisely the seventh and eighth verses of the same Psalm 24, transliterated from Latin no less, in a Byzantine medical collection strongly suggests a relation to an accretion of Late Ancient recipes concerned with magical uses of the Psalter.184 The simplest explanation for all of these intertexts, whose number could be greatly multiplied, seems to be a common ancestor in Late Antiquity, but more intricate patterns of medieval and early modern transmission must still be considered in future work. Given the complex textual tradition of the Syriac witnesses, multiple determination is more likely than not.

181 182

183 184

P.Amh. i 9b: read Φωκᾶς (confirmed on the original, now in the Morgan Library) in place of edd.pr. Φωνας. Athens, National Library of Greece 1265, f. 35r, ed. A. Delatte, Anecdota Atheniensia. i. Textes grecs inédits relatifs à l’ histoire des religions (Liège and Paris, 1927), p. 83.8–20 (recollated: read Φουκᾶ in place of Delatte’s φοῦκτα). The ‘it’ may refer to the bound animal (hence, immobilised) or, more likely, the beneficiary of the protection (hence, undisturbed). For this concept see Nikitine, ‘Superstitions’, pp. 157–158. Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek cod. med. gr. 45, f. 39v (unpublished).

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

6

133

Conclusion

The ‘Book of Protection’, whose future study can now be founded upon a widened and deepened textual basis, offers a privileged glimpse of life in Christian communities faced with challenging surroundings, of their relation to ancient traditions from their own past and those of their neighbours, and of their negotiation of an uncertain future through ritual means. Their delicate balance with demographically dominant and ruling groups, tensions underlying which were already surfacing in references within the texts to adversarial relations with ‘sons of Hagar’ (the versions of G. A § 6 in StP4 § 7 and G. A § 7 in Lo6673 §7) and especially with officials (e.g. G. A §§ 6–8), was to be shattered by events on a global scale a few years after the publication of the landmark collection of Gollancz.185 The texts offer perspectives on the later careers of ritual traditions from ancient and medieval Mesopotamia and beyond, and precious witnesses to a lost way of life in the modern Middle East.

Acknowledgements Beyond the usual generosity of the staff of various libraries shown during my visits, I owe special thanks for help with reference queries to Lynn Berg (Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary), Brianna Cregle (Princeton), and Matthew Rowe (Yale), as well as to Erich Renhart (Gräz) for information on the ongoing cataloguing of the Syriac manuscripts of Yerevan. I also thank Siam Bhayro, Erica Hunter, and Marco Moriggi for critical readings of this chapter and additional references; all remaining errors are my own. For convenience, all Syriac texts are set in an Estrangelo font and personal names of common biblical and Graeco-Roman types therein are given anglicised forms.

Bibliography bho P.Amh. i

185

P. Peeters, Bibliotheca Hagiographica Orientalis (Brussels, 1910). B.P. Grenfell and A.S. Hunt, The Amherst Papyri, Being an Account of the Greek Papyri in the Collection of the Right Hon. Lord Amherst

On the forced emigration and loss of property and life around the time of the First World War see P. Sykes, ‘A Summary of the History of the Assyrians in ʿIraq, 1918–1933’, Journal of the Royal Central Asian Society 21 (1934), pp. 255–268, and for a similar evaluation of the potential of the ‘Book of Protection’, Hunter, ‘Two Codex Handbooks’, p. 435.

134

P.Bad. v

pgm P.Oxy. lxxxii seg vhmml

zellmann-rohrer of Hackney, F.S.A. at Didlington Hall, Norfolk. Vol. i. The Ascension of Isaiah and Other Theological Fragments (London, 1900). F. Bilabel and A. Grohmann, Veröffentlichungen aus den badischen Papyrus-Sammlungen. Vol. v. Griechische, koptische und arabische Texte zur Religion und religiösen Literatur in Aegyptens Spätzeit (Heidelberg, 1934). K. Preisendanz, Papyri Graecae Magicae, revised by A. Henrichs (2 vols; Stuttgart, 1973–1974). N. Gonis, F. Maltomini, W.B. Henry and S. Slattery, The Oxyrhynchus Papyri vol. lxxxii (London, 2016). J.J.E. Hondius et al., eds., Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum (66 vols.; Leiden, 1923–) Hill Museum & Manuscript Library, Online Resources for the Study of Manuscript Cultures (2015–): www.vhmml.org.

G. Abousamra, ‘Two Syriac Amulets from Hadath Grotto (Qadisha)’, in Actes du 11e Symposium Syriacum (La Valette, Malte, juillet 2012) (Kaslik, 2013), pp. 213–230. N. Al-Jeloo, ‘Kaldayutha: The Spar-Sammane and Late Antique Syriac Astrology’, aram 24 (2012), pp. 457–492. A.I. Almazov, ‘Apocryphal Prayers, Invocations and Spells’ (in Russian), Lětopis’ istorikofilologičeskago obščestva pri Imperatorskom Novorossijskom Universitetě 9 (1901), pp. 221–340. E.M. Assad, Pearls from Heaven: The Assad Collection of Syriac Manuscripts and Works of Art (London, 2015). G.P. Badger, The Nestorians and Their Rituals, with the Narrative of a Mission to Mesopotamia and Coordistan in 1842–1844, and of a Late Visit to Those Countries in 1850 (2 vols; London, 1852). E. Balicka-Witakowska, ‘Illustrating Charms: A Syriac Manuscript with Magic Drawings in the Collection of the British Library’, in G.A. Kiraz (ed.), Malphono w-Rabo d-Malphone: Studies in Honour of Sebastian P. Brock (Piscataway, NJ, 2008), pp. 779– 808. I. Bcheiry, ‘Syriac Manuscripts in New York Public Library’, Hugoye 11 (2008), pp. 141–159. A.H. Becker, Revival and Awakening: American Evangelical Missionaries in Iran and the Origins of Assyrian Nationalism (Chicago, 2015). P. Bedjan, Acta martyrum et sanctorum. Vol. i (Paris and Leipzig, 1890). K. Beyer, Die aramäischen Texte vom Toten Meer (3 vols; Göttingen, 1984, 1994, 2004). B. Bischoff, ‘Die älteste europäische Falkenmedizin’, in id. (ed.) Anecdota novissima (Stuttgart, 1984), pp. 171–182. G. Bohak, ‘Catching a Thief: The Jewish Trials of a Christian Ordeal’, Jewish Studies Quarterly 13 (2006), pp. 344–362.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

135

G. Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic: A History (Cambridge, 2008). F. Briquel-Chatonnet, Manuscrits syriaques de la Bibliothèque nationale de France (nos 356–435 entrés depuis 1911), de la Bibliothèque Méjanes d’Aix-en-Provence, de la Bibliothèque municipale de Lyon et de la Bibliothèque nationale et universitaire de Strasbourg (Paris, 1997). F. Briquel-Chatonnet et al., Manuscrits chrétiens du Proche-Orient (Arles, 2003). S. Brock, ‘A Lead Syriac Protective Talisman’, in L. Nehmé and A. Al-Jallad (eds), To the Madbar and Back Again: Studies in the Languages, Archaeology and Cultures of Arabia Dedicated to Michael C.A. Macdonald (Leiden, 2018), pp. 309–326. E.W. Brooks, A Collection of Letters of Severus of Antioch from Numerous Syriac Manuscripts (2 vols; Paris, 1915–1920). E.A.W. Budge, The Book of Governors: The Historia monastica of Thomas, Bishop of Margâ, a.d.840 (London, 1893). E.A.W. Budge, Syrian Anatomy, Pathology and Therapeutics or, The Book of Medicines: The Syriac Text, Edited from a Rare Manuscript, with an English Translation (2 vols; London, 1913). J.T. Clemons, ‘A Checklist of Syriac Manuscripts in the United States and Canada’, Orientalia Christiana Periodica 32 (1966), pp. 224–251, 478–522. J.F. Coakley, ‘A Catalogue of the Syriac Manuscripts in the John Rylands Library’, Bulletin of the John Rylands University Library of Manchester 75 (1993), pp. 105–207. J.F. Coakley, ‘Yaroo M. Neesan, “A Missionary to His Own People”’, aram 5 (1993), pp. 87–100. J.F. Coakley, A Catalogue of the Syriac Manuscripts in Cambridge University Library and College Libraries Acquired since 1901 (Ely, 2018), pp. 156–158. J.B. Curbera, ‘Maternal Lineage in Greek Magical Texts’, in D.R. Jordan, H. Montgomery, and E. Thomassen (eds), The World of Ancient Magic: Papers from the First International Samson Eitrem Seminar at the Norwegian Institute at Athens, 4–8 May 1997 (Bergen, 1999), pp. 195–203. J. Dieleman, ‘What’s in a Sign? Translating Filiation in the Demotic Magical Papyri’, in A. Papaconstantinou (ed.), The Multilingual Experience in Egypt, from the Ptolemies to the Abbasids (Farnham, 2010), pp. 127–152. E.S. Drower, ‘A Mandaean Book of Black Magic’, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland 75 (1943), pp. 149–181. C.A. Faraone, Ancient Greek Love Magic (Cambridge, MA, 1999). D. Frankfurter, ‘The Perils of Love: Magic and Countermagic in Coptic Egypt’, Journal of the History of Sexuality 10 (2001), pp. 480–500. G. Furlani, ‘Due trattati palmomantici in siriaco’, Rendiconti della Reale Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei, Classe di scienze morali, storiche e filologiche 26 (1917), pp. 719– 732. G. Furlani, ‘Ancora un trattato palmomantico in lingua siriaca’, Rendiconti della Reale

136

zellmann-rohrer

Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei, Classe di scienze morali, storiche e filologiche 27 (1918), pp. 316–328. G. Furlani, ‘Due trattatelli enodiomantici in siriaco’, Rendiconti della Reale Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei, Classe di scienze morali, storiche e filologiche 28 (1919), pp. 355– 366. P. Gignoux, Incantations magiques syriaques (Louvain, 1987). L. Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews, edited and translated by H. Szold and P. Radin, 2nd edn (2 vols; Philadelphia, 2003). H. Gollancz, ‘A Selection of Charms from Syriac Manuscripts’, in Actes du onzième congrès international des orientalistes, Paris–1897, quatrième section, hébreu—phénicien —araméen—éthiopien—assyrien (Paris, 1898), pp. 77–97. H. Gollancz, The Book of Protection, Being a Collection of Charms (London, 1912). H. Gollancz, Contribution to the History of University College London (Oxford, 1930). R. Gordon, ‘Charaktêres Between Antiquity and the Renaissance: Transmission and ReInvention’, in V. Dasen and Jean-Michel Spieser (eds), Les savoirs magiques et leur transmission de l’Antiquité à la Renaissance (Florence, 2014), pp. 253–300. M.H. Goshen-Gottstein, Syriac Manuscripts in the Harvard College Library: A Catalogue (Missoula, MT, 1979). R.J.H. Gottheil, ‘References to Zoroaster in Syriac and Arabic Literature’, in Classical Studies in Honour of Henry Drisler (New York and London, 1894), pp. 24–51. S. Grill, ‘Die Syrischen Handschriften der Nationalbibliothek in Wien’, in Vergleichende Religionsgeschichte und Kirchenväter (Horn, 1959), pp. 54–58. I.H. Hall, ‘The Letter of Holy Sunday’, Journal of the American Oriental Society 15 (1893), pp. 121–142. A. Harrak, Catalogue of Syriac and Garshuni Manuscripts: Manuscripts Owned by the Iraqi Department of Antiquities and Heritage (Leuven, 2011). W.H. Hazard, ‘A Syriac Charm’, Journal of the American Oriental Society 15 (1892), pp. 284–296. R.M. Heim, ‘Incantamenta magica graeca latina’, Jahrbücher für classische Philologie Suppl. 19 (1893), pp. 463–576. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Saints in Syriac Anathemas: A Form-Critical Analysis of Role’, Journal of Semitic Studies 32 (1987), pp. 83–104. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Genres of Syriac Amulets: A Study of Cambridge MS. Syr. 3086’, in R. Lavenant (ed.), v Symposium Syriacum, 1988: Katholieke Universiteit, Leuven, 29– 31 août 1988 (Rome, 1990), pp. 355–368. E.C.D. Hunter, An Amulet for the Binding of Guns, Spears, Swords, Daggers and All Implements of War (Oxford, 1992). E.C.D. Hunter, ‘A Scroll Amulet from Kurdistan’, aram 5 (1993), pp. 243–254. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Amulets and the Assyrians of Kurdistan’, Journal of the Assyrian Academic Society 9.2 (1995), pp. 25–29.

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

137

E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Combat and Conflict in Incantation Bowls: Studies on Two Aramaic Specimens from Nippur’, in M.J. Geller, J.C. Greenfield, and M.P. Weitzman (eds), Studia Aramaic: New Sources and Approaches. Papers Delivered at the London Conference of the Institute of Jewish Studies, University College London, 26th–28th June 1991 (Oxford, 1995), pp. 61–77. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Incantation Bowls: A Mesopotamian Phenomenon?’, Orientalia 65 (1996), pp. 220–233. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Another Scroll Amulet from Kurdistan’, in G.J. Reinink and A.C. Klugkist (eds), After Bardaisan: Studies on Continuity and Change in Syriac Christianity in Honour of Professor Han J.W. Drijvers (Leuven, 1999), pp. 161–171. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Magic and Medicine amongst the Christians of Kurdistan’, in E.C.D. Hunter (ed.), The Christian Heritage of Iraq: Collected Papers from the Christianity of Iraq i–v Seminar Days (Piscataway, NJ, 2009), pp. 187–202. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Traversing Time and Location: A Prayer-Amulet of Mar Tamsis from Turfan’, in L. Tang and D.W. Winkler (eds), From the Oxus River to the Chinese Shores: Studies on East Syriac Christianity in China and Central Asia (Zurich, 2013), pp. 23– 39. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Two Codex Handbooks of Amulets: Mingana ms syr 316 and Rylands ms syr 52’, in S.H. Griffith and S. Grebenstein (eds), Christsein in der islamischen Welt: Festschrift für Martin Tamcke zum 60. Geburtstag (Wiesbaden, 2015), pp. 423– 438. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Syriac Prayer-amulets from Turfan’, The Harp 33 (2018), pp. 413–438. C. Kayser, ‘Gebrauch von Psalmen zur Zauberei’, Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft 42 (1888), pp. 456–462. N.H. Korsvoll and L.I. Lied, ‘Enoch and Baruch: Unusual Suspects in a Syriac Amulet’, Journal of Near Eastern Studies 75 (2016), pp. 349–360. K.F. Kramer, Textstudien zu Ostsyrischen Beschwörungsgebeten (unpubl. diss., Berlin, 1924). L.-H. Labande, Manuscrits de la bibliothèque d’Avignon vol. iii.1 (Paris, 1897). H.M.J. Loewe, ‘Gollancz, Sir Hermann (1852–1930)’, in Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, revised online edition (2009): https://doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/33444. A. Lyavdansky, ‘Syriac Charms in Near Eastern Context: Tracing the Origin of Formulas’, in T.A. Mikhailova, J. Roper, A.L. Toporkov, and D.S. Nikolayev (eds), Oral Charms in Structural and Comparative Light: Proceedings of the Conference of the International Society for Folk Narrative Research (isfnr) Committee on Charms, Charmers and Charming, 27–29 October, Moscow (Moscow, 2011), pp. 15–21. A.J. Maclean, A Dictionary of the Dialects of Vernacular Syriac as Spoken by the Eastern Syrians of Kurdistan, North-West Persia, and the Plain of Moṣul, with Illustrations from the Dialects of the Jews of Zakhu and Azerbaijan, and of the Western Syrians of Ṭur ʿAbdin and Maʿlula (Oxford, 1901).

138

zellmann-rohrer

F. Macler, ‘Formules magiques de l’Orient Chrétien’, Revue de l’histoire des religions 58 (1908), pp. 9–33. W.F. Macomber, ‘Catalogue of Oriental Manuscripts in the Library of SeaburyWestern Theological Seminary, Evanston, Illinois’, Muséon 92 (1979), pp. 369–386. B. Malinowski, Coral Gardens and Their Magic (2 vols; New York, 1935). G.D. Manolakos, ‘Incantations and Bindings’ (in Greek), Laographia 5 (1915–1916), pp. 609–615. G. Margoliouth, Descriptive List of Syriac and Karshuni Mss. in the British Museum Acquired since 1873 (London, 1899). C.C. McCown, The Testament of Solomon: Edited from Manuscripts at Mount Athos, Bologna, Holkham Hall, Jerusalem, London, Milan, Paris and Vienna (Leipzig, 1922). E.N. Mescherskaya, ‘The Syrian Manuscripts of Protection in Matenadaran’ (in Russian), Palestinskii Sbornik n.s. 27 (1981), pp. 93–105. A. Mingana, Catalogue of the Mingana Collection of Manuscripts now in the Possession of the Trustees of the Woodbroke Settlement, Selly Oak, Birmingham. Volume i. Syriac and Garshūni Manuscripts (Cambridge, 1933). Y. Mirkis, Étude sur quelques amulettes iraquiennes qui protègent du ‘mauvais oeil’ (unpubl. diss., Strasbourg, 1977–1978). M. Moriggi, A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls: Syriac Magical Texts from Late-Antique Mesopotamia (Leiden, 2014). M. Moriggi, ‘“And the Impure and Abominable Priests Fled for Help to the Names of the Devils”: Amulets and Magical Practices in Syriac Christian Culture between Late Antiquity and the Modern World’, Hugoye 19 (2016), pp. 371–384. F. Nau, ‘Notices des manuscrits syriaques, éthiopiens et mandéens, entrés à la Bibliothèque nationale de Paris depuis l’édition des catalogues’, Revue de l’Orient chrétien ser. 2, 16 (1911), pp. 271–323. F. Nau, Histoire de Nestorius d’après la lettre à Cosme et l’Hymne de Sliba de Mansourya sur les docteurs grecs. Conjuration de Nestorius contre les migraines (Patrologia Orientalia 13.2; Paris, 1916). F. Nau, ‘Nestorius et la magie’, Revue de l’Orient chrétien ser. 3, 1 (1918), pp. 214–216. J. Naveh, ‘A Syriac Amulet on Leather’, Journal of Semitic Studies 42 (1997), pp. 33–38. J. Naveh and Sh. Shaked, Amulets and Magic Bowls: Aramaic Incantations of Late Antiquity, 3rd ed. (Jerusalem, 1998). B. Nikitine, ‘Superstitions des Chaldéens du plateau d’Ourmiah’, Revue d’ethnographie et des traditions populaires 4 (1923), pp. 149–181. L. Olsan, ‘The Three Good Brothers Charm: Some Historical Points’, Incantatio 1 (2011), pp. 48–78. K. Panegyres, ‘Notes on a Nestorian Spell against Headaches’, Mnemosyne 69 (2016), pp. 491–502. J. Perkins, A Residence of Eight Years in Persia among the Nestorian Christians, with Notices of the Muhammedans (Andover, MA, and New York, 1843).

more on the ‘book of protection’ and the syriac ‘charms’

139

N.V. Pigulevskaya, ‘Catalogue of Syriac Manuscripts in Leningrad’ (in Russian), Palestinskii Sbnornik 6(69) (1960), pp. 3–196. F. Ruani, ‘Formations et origines des nomina barbara dans les objets magiques syriaques de ve–viie siècles’, in M. Tardieu, A. Van den Kerchove, and M. Zago (eds), Noms barbares 1: Formes et contextes d’une pratique magique (Turnhout, 2013), pp. 301–314. E. Sachau, Verzeichniss der syrischen handschriften der Königlchen bibliothek zu Berlin (2 vols; Berlin, 1899). J.E. Sanzo and N.H. Korsvoll, ‘A New Testament Text on a Syriac Incantation Bowl: Eph. 6:10–17 on ibc 3’, Vigiliae Christianae 71 (2017), pp. 417–432. O. Sarau, Catalogue of Syriac Manuscripts in the Library of the Museum Association of Oroomiah College (in Syriac) (Oroomiah, 1898). T. Schermann, ‘Die griechische Kyprianosgebete’, Oriens Christianus 3 (1903), pp. 303– 323. A.B. Schmidt and G. Abousamra, ‘Une amulette syriaque dans la collection du Matenadaran à Yerevan (rouleau 9–90)’, The Harp 29 (2014), pp. 143–164. Sh. Shaked, S. Bhayro, and J.N. Ford, Aramaic Bowl Spells: Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Bowls (Leiden, 2013). D. Simonsen, ‘Ein Nachtrag zu der Abhandlung ünrt. “Gebrauch von Psalmen zur Zauberei”’, Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft 42 (1888), pp. 693–694. P. Smither, ‘A Coptic Love-charm’, Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 25 (1939), pp. 173– 174. M. Sokoloff, A Syriac Lexicon: A Translation from the Latin, Correction, Expansion, and Update of C. Brockelmann’s Lexicon Syriacum (Winona Lake, IN, and Piscataway, NJ, 2009). J. Spier, ‘An Antique Magical Book Used for Making Sixth-Century Byzantine Amulets?’, in V. Dasen and J.-M. Spieser (eds), Les savoirs magiques et leur transmission de l’Antiquité à la Renaissance (Florence, 2014), pp. 43–66. P. Sykes, ‘A Summary of the History of the Assyrians in ʿIraq, 1918–1933’, Journal of the Royal Central Asian Society 21 (1934), pp. 255–268. S. Talay, S. Rudolf, and Y. Kouriyhe, ‘Ein neues syrisch-aramäisches Amulett’, Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft 170 (2020), pp. 289–308. H. Teule and G. Kessel, ‘The Mikhail Sado Collection of Syriac Manuscripts in St. Petersburg’, in J.-P. Montferrer-Sala, H. Teule and S. Torallas Tovar (eds), Eastern Christians and Their Written Heritage: Manuscripts, Scribes and Context (Leuven, 2012), pp. 43– 76. L. Vanden Berghe, ‘Luristan: Prospections archéologiques dans la region de Badr’, Archéologia 36 (1970), pp. 10–21. J.P.M. van der Ploeg, The Christians of St. Thomas in South India and Their Syriac Manuscripts (Bangalore, 1983).

140

zellmann-rohrer

J.J.A. van Dijk and M.J. Geller, Ur iii incantations from the Frau Professor HilprechtCollection, Jena (Wiesbaden, 2003). D.J. Waller, ‘Curious Characters, Invented Scripts, and … Charlatans? “Pseudo-Scripts” in the Mesopotamian Magic Bowls’, Journal of Near Eastern Studies 78 (2019), pp. 119–139. W. Wright and S.A. Cook, A Catalogue of the Syriac Manuscripts preserved in the Library of the University of Cambridge (2 vols; Cambridge, 1901). M. Zellmann-Rohrer, ‘Seth on Mount Sinai: A Coptic Magical Formulary with a Prayer and Theophany of the Biblical Seth’, Zeitschrift für Ägyptische Sprache 144 (2017), pp. 240–254. M. Zellmann-Rohrer, ‘“Psalms Useful for Everything:” Byzantine and Post-Byzantine Manuals for the Amuletic Use of the Psalter’, Dumbarton Oaks Papers 72 (2018), pp. 113–168. M. Zellmann-Rohrer, ‘A Syriac-Arabic Dream-Request and Its Jewish Tradition’, Journal of Near Eastern Studies 78 (2019), pp. 59–74. M. Zellmann-Rohrer, ‘Incantations in Byzantine and Post-Byzantine Greek: Change and Continuity’, in L.M. Bortolani, W. Furley, S. Nagel, and J.F. Quack (eds), Cultural Plurality in Ancient Magical Texts and Practices: Graeco-Egyptian Handbooks and Related Traditions (Tübingen, 2019), pp. 276–297. M. Zellmann-Rohrer, ‘A Lawsuit with a Headless Adversary: A Greek Incantation Motif’, Archiv für Religionsgeschichte 22 (2020), pp. 51–83.

chapter 6

Traces of a Storied Universe: Biblical Figures and Motifs in Late-Antique Syriac Amulets Nils H. Korsvoll

1

Introduction

Biblical quotations or allusions are a fairly common feature in late-antique amulets.1 Often, it is believed, they are adapted from liturgy.2 Scholars of ancient magic, therefore, generally hold that the making and use of amulets had ‘a symbiotic relationship with institutional rituals and practices’,3 whether to evoke public worship, to appropriate efficacy, or to assert religious identity.4 Biblical references also abound in medieval and early-modern Syriac amulets,5 but are more scarce among late-antique Syriac amulets.6 This was already noted by James A. Montgomery in his seminal publication of incantation bowls 1 See, e.g., G. Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic: A History (Cambridge, 2008); Y. Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah (Detroit, 2017); T. de Bruyn, Making Amulets Christian: Artefacts, Scribes, and Contexts (Oxford, 2017). 2 See, e.g., D. Levene, A Corpus of Magic Bowls: Incantation Texts in Jewish Aramaic from Late Antiquity (London, 2003), p. 11; P. Lanfer, ‘Why Biblical Scholars Should Study Aramaic Bowl Spells’, Aramaic Studies 13 (2015), pp. 9–23 (15). 3 De Bruyn, Making Amulets Christian, p. 184. See also J.B. Segal, Catalogue of the Aramaic and Mandaic Incantation Bowls in the British Museum (London, 2000), p. 26; J. van der Vliet, ‘Christian Spells and Manuals from Egypt’, in D. Frankfurter (ed.), Guide to the Study of Ancient Magic (Leiden, 2019), pp. 322–350. 4 See, e.g., R. Kotansky, Greek Magical Amulets: The Inscribed Gold, Silver, Copper, and Bronze Lamellae. Part i: Published Texts of Known Provenance (Köln, 1994), p. 178; M. Klinghardt, ‘Prayer Formularies for Public Recitation: Their Use and Function in Ancient Religion’, Numen 46 (1999), pp. 1–52 (26–28); R. Gordon, ‘Shaping the Text: Innovation and Authority in GraecoEgyptian Malign Magic’, in H.F.J. Horstmanshoff, H.W. Singor, F.T. van Straten and J.H.M. Strubbe (eds), kykeon: Studies in Honour of H.S. Versnel (Leiden, 2002), pp. 69–111. 5 See, e.g., E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Magic and Medicine Amongst the Christians of Kurdistan’, in E.C.D. Hunter (ed.), The Christian Heritage of Iraq: Collected Papers from the Christianity in Iraq i–v Seminar Days (Piscataway, NJ, 2009), pp. 187–202; E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Traversing Time and Location: A Prayer-Amulet to Mar Tamsis from Turfan’, in D.W. Winkler and L. Tang (eds), From the Oxus River to the Chinese Shores: Studies on East Syriac Christianity in China and Central Asia (Salzburg, 2013), pp. 23–41. 6 See, e.g., H. Juusola, ‘Who Wrote the Syriac Incantation Bowls?’, Studia Orientalia 85 (Helsinki, 1999), pp. 75–92 (76); C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Of Jesus, Darius, Marduk …: Aramaic Magic Bowls in

© Nils H. Korsvoll, 2022 | doi:10.1163/97890044672

142

korsvoll

from the site of ancient Nippur,7 and it has since fuelled debate on both their assumed religious context8 and what the few biblical references might mean.9 These debates are more extensive than I show here; rather than recounting them, I take this opportunity to revisit and reassess the biblical material in lateantique Syriac amulets in light of recent scholarship, in both biblical studies and history of religion, on what biblical might mean and may have meant. As I elaborate below, ancient sources, including amulets, exhibit notable variation in their biblical allusions and quotations.10 Newer studies have begun to explore this variation, in order to reassess what the Bible was and may have meant in often diverse and differing contexts. For instance, Siam Bhayro argues that parallels between New Testament passages and stories in the incantation bowls ‘represent Jewish scholarly engagement with early Jewish literature’,11 while Theodore de Bruyn holds that fragments from gospel stories in amulets should not be understood as scriptural quotations but as ‘trusted ways of recollecting the power of Jesus to heal and protect’.12 I recently pointed out the potential statistical pitfalls of simply counting the number of biblical refer-

7 8

9

10

11 12

the Moussaieff Collection’, Journal of the American Oriental Society 125 (2005), pp. 219–240 (220). J.A. Montgomery, Aramaic Incantation Texts from Nippur (Philadelphia, 1913), pp. 113–116. See, e.g., V. Hamilton, ‘Syriac Incantation Bowls’ (Ann Arbor, 1971), pp. 96–97; P. Gignoux, Incantations magiques syriaques (Louvain, 1987), pp. 3–4; S. Shaked, ‘Jews, Christians and Pagans in the Aramaic Incantation Bowls of the Sasanian Period’, in A. Destro and M. Pesce (eds), Religions and Cultures: First International Conference of Mediterraneum (Binghampton, NY, 2002), pp. 61–89, (69–71); A.B. Schmidt and G. Abousamra, ‘Une amulette syriaque dans la collection du Matenadaran à Yerevan (roleau 9–90),’ The Harp 29 (2014), pp. 143– 164; M. Moriggi, ‘ “And the Impure and Abominable Priests Fled for Help to the Names of the Devils”: Amulets and Magical Practices in Syriac Christian Culture Between Late Antiquity and the Modern World’, Hugoye: Journal of Syriac Studies 19 (2016), pp. 371– 384. See, e.g., Juusola, ‘Who Wrote’, p. 76; Gignoux, Incantations, pp. 57–58; M. Gorea, ‘Coupes magiques syriaques et manichéennes en provenance de Mésopotamie’, in F. Briquel Chatonnet, M. Debié and A. Desreumaux (eds), Les inscriptions syriaques (Paris, 2004), pp. 107– 116 (111). See, e.g., Segal, Catalogue, p. 26; M. Choat, ‘Echo and Quotation of the New Testament in Papyrus Letters to the End of the Fourth Century’, in T.J. Kraus and T. Nicklas (eds), New Testament Manuscripts: Their Texts and Their Worlds (Leiden, 2006), pp. 267–292; D. Krueger, ‘The Hagiographer’s Bible: Intertextuality and Scriptural Culture in the Late Sixth and the First Half of the Seventh Century’, in D. Krueger and R.S. Nelson (eds), The New Testament in Byzantium (Washington DC, 2016), pp. 177–189. S. Bhayro, ‘On Early Jewish Literature and the Aramaic Magic Bowls’, Aramaic Studies 13 (2015), pp. 54–68 (68). T. de Bruyn, ‘Christian Apocryphal and Canonical Narratives in Greek Amulets and Formu-

traces of a storied universe

143

ences in a corpus.13 In short, while the comparably lower number of biblical references in Syriac amulets is certainly important, such a comparison may also be flawed in relying on somewhat dated notions of both biblical and scripture.14 Here, I first introduce the above-mentioned variety in biblical material in late-antique sources, in amulets and more broadly. Then, I present how this variation has prompted scholars to change how they conceive of biblical quotations and allusions. My discussion culminates in David Frankfurter’s article ‘Narrating Power: The Theory and Practice of the Magical Historiola in Magical Spells’,15 where he challenges the perceived primacy of the written and compiled versions of myth or scripture: In many cultures “myths” as coherent narratives describing supernatural events do not exist except as ritual librettos which are implicitly or explicitly oriented toward the ritual context and its goals … That is to say, myths only exist in the form of ritual applications; the historiolae “are” the myths, rather than derivatives of them; and the “canonical” myths … are literary contrivances, masking the diversity and even incoherence of the actual traditions.16 I proceed to borrow Frankfurter’s anthropological understanding of myth or scripture, and I conclude that the biblical material and motifs in late-antique Syriac amulets suggest a notion not of scripture but of an authoritative discourse of precedent.17 Rather than a biblical canon, the figures and narratives seem to belong to a wider storied universe.

13 14

15

16 17

laries in Late Antiquity’, in P. Piovanelli and T. Burke (eds), Rediscovering the Apocryphal Continent: New Perspectives on Early Christian and Late Antique Apocryphal Texts and Traditions (Tübingen, 2015), pp. 153–174 (173). N.H. Korsvoll, ‘Bible Bible Everywhere? Reviewing the Distribution of Biblical Quotes in Ancient Amulets’, Biblische Notizen 176 (2017), pp. 89–100. See, e.g., J.E. Sanzo and N.H. Korsvoll, ‘A New Testament Text on a Syriac Incantation Bowl: Eph. 6:10–17 on ibc 3’, Vigiliae Christianae 71 (2017), pp. 417–432; N.H. Korsvoll and L.I. Lied, ‘Enoch and Baruch: Unusual Suspects in a Syriac Amulet’, Journal of Near Eastern Studies 75 (2016), pp. 349–360. D. Frankfurter, ‘Narrating Power: The Theory and Practice of the Magical Historiola in Ritual Spells’, in M. Meyer and P. Mirecki (eds), Ancient Magic and Ritual Power (Leiden, 1995), pp. 457–476. Frankfurter, ‘Narrating Power’, pp. 472–473; see also the contribution by Moriggi in this volume. Frankfurter, ‘Narrating Power’, p. 474.

144 2

korsvoll

Syriac Amulets from Late Antiquity

Amulets appear in many forms and for many purposes in Late Antiquity: In the Graeco-Roman world amulets were commonly used to invoke divine power for healing from sickness, protection against harm, malediction of adversaries, and success in a variety of affairs. These amulets were prepared by specialists who often followed pre-existing models. They were rendered effective by writing, recitation, and other rituals, and were then worn on one’s body or fixed, displayed, or deposited in some place.18 There were amulets written out on papyrus, parchment, pottery (ostraca), thin metal sheets (lamellae), or on gems or other types of jewellery.19 Most Syriac amulets are incantation bowls, which are medium-sized bowls (commonly 15–20cm in diameter and approximately 8 cm deep) with an incantation or magical spell written on the inside in ink.20 The remainder are a few inscribed lamellae and some leather amulets with the text again written in ink.21 These are small, portable, and show signs of having been folded. Broadly speaking, the Syriac amulets use two different scripts, one that is close to Estrangela, and the other a unique script that has come to be known as Manichaean.22 There are currently no fonts that ‘could correctly reflect the peculiar palaeography of Syriac incantation bowls’,23 so the most recent publications transliterate their texts in Latin script.24 In this paper, I follow this convention,

18

19

20 21

22 23 24

T. de Bruyn and J.H.F. Dijkstra, ‘Greek Amulets and Formularies from Egypt Containing Christian Elements: A Checklist of Papyri, Parchments, Ostraka, and Tablets’, Bulletin of the American Society of Papyrologists 48 (2011), pp. 163–216 (164). See, e.g., J. Naveh and S. Shaked, Amulets and Magic Bowls: Aramaic Incantations of Late Antiquity (Jerusalem, 1985); M. Meyer and R. Smith, Ancient Christian Magic: Coptic Texts of Ritual Power (San Francisco, 1994); J. Spier, Late Antique and Early Christian Gems (Wiesbaden, 2007); de Bruyn and Dijkstra, ‘Greek Amulets’, pp. 163–216. M. Moriggi, A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls: Syriac Magical Texts from Late-Antique Mesopotamia (Leiden, 2014). Naveh and Shaked, Amulets and Magic Bowls, pp. 62–68; Gignoux, Incantations; J. Naveh, ‘A Syriac Amulet on Leather’, Journal of Semitic Studies 17 (1997), pp. 33–38; E, Haerinck and B. Overlaet, Early Bronze Age Graveyards to the West of the Kabir Kuh (Pusht-i Kuh, Luristan) (Leuven, 2010), p. 43 and plate xiii. See the comprehensive overview in Zellmann-Rohrer’s contribution to this volume. See Moriggi, A Corpus, pp. 11–19. Moriggi, A Corpus, p. 4. See, e.g., Segal, Catalogue; C. Müller-Kessler, Die Zauberschalentexte in der Hilprecht-

traces of a storied universe

145

figure 6.1 Incantation bowls in situ at the 1888–1889 excavations at Nippur photograph: h.v. hilprecht, explorations in bible lands during the 19th century (philadelphia, 1903), p. 448

rendering either the transliteration from the editions, or transliterating from the respective publications according to The sbl Handbook of Style for Hebrew and other Aramaic languages.25 There are some sixty published Syriac amulets from Late Antiquity, most of which are thought to come from what is now Iraq.26 Several incantation bowls were excavated by the University of Pennsylvania at Nippur in the 1880s, where many were found buried up-side-down and in association with what appeared to be domestic buildings.27

25

26 27

Sammlung, Jena, und weitere Nippur-Texte anderer Sammlungen (Wiesbaden, 2005); Moriggi, A Corpus. P.H. Alexander, J.F. Kutsko, J.D. Ernest, C. Decker-Lucke and D.L. Petersen (eds), The sbl Handbook of Style: For Ancient Near Eastern, Biblical and Early Christian Studies (Peabody, MA, 1999), pp. 26–29. Moriggi, A Corpus, pp. 1–2. See the updated status quaestionis in Moriggi’s contribution to this volume. J.P. Peters, Nippur: Explorations and Adventures on the Euphrates: The Narrative of the Uni-

146

korsvoll

The stratigraphy helped date the bowls to the sixth or seventh centuries ce, but details of their use remain vague. Suggestions have included hydromancy, overturning witchcraft, or serving to trap demons.28 Other incantation bowls and amulets have no known provenance, which has led to controversy concerning their acquisition and study.29 Among the lateantique Syriac amulets, biblical references and motifs appear in both provenanced and unprovenanced pieces. Opinions on how to navigate this situation differ,30 but in line with the growing awareness of and concern about the illegal export and trafficking of ancient artefacts, I follow the guidelines laid down by the American Schools of Oriental Research (asor) in 2015 and only examine amulets that were acquired by or belonged to a recognised collection before April 24, 1972.31 Thus, my survey and analysis of biblical material is not comprehensive, but it is broad enough to make certain initial observations and suggestions.

3

Reconceptualising the Categories Biblical and Scripture

Traditionally, discrepancies between biblical material in amulets and the canonical texts have been taken to indicate the former’s distance from the canon or institutional ritual contexts.32 Over the past decades, however, scholars have begun to challenge the implicit dichotomy and teleology underlying the categories biblical and scripture, both in biblical studies more broadly and

28

29

30 31

32

versity of Pennsylvania Expedition to Babylonia in the Years 1888–1890 ii (London 1897), p. 153; Montgomery, Aramaic Incantation Texts, p. 14. See, e.g., Montgomery, Aramaic Incantation Texts, p. 42; S. Shaked, ‘Popular Religion in Sasanian Babylonia’, Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 21 (1997), pp. 103–117 (104); D. Frankfurter, ‘Scorpion/Demon: On the Origin of the Mesopotamian Apotropaic Bowl’, Journal of Near Eastern Studies 74 (2015), pp. 9–18. See, e.g., S. Thrope, ‘Magic bowls of antiquity’, Aeon. Published 24th May 2016. Retrieved 8th July 2019. Online: https://aeon.co/essays/what‑should‑be‑done‑with‑the‑magic‑bowls​ ‑of‑jewish‑babylonia. See Thrope, ‘Magic bowls’. ‘Section E’, in Policy of Professional Conduct, approved by the American Schools of Oriental Research Board of Trustees on April 18, 2015. Cited 25 August 2020. Online: http://www.asor​ .org/about/policies/conduct.html. The Society of Biblical Literature (sbl) adopted the same principles from 2017 (sbl Policy on Scholarly Presentation and Publication of Ancient Artifacts, September 3, 2016. Cited 25 August 2020. Online: https://www.sbl‑site.org/assets/​ pdfs/SBL‑Artifacts‑Policy_20160903.pdf). See, e.g., Kotansky, Greek Magical Amulets, pp. 302–303; M. Choat, Belief and Cult in FourthCentury Papyri (Turnhout, 2006), pp. 77–79; de Bruyn, Making Amulets Christian, pp. 221– 228.

traces of a storied universe

147

in studies of late-antique amulets. For instance, Ruth Langer summarises how biblical material appears in rabbinic liturgy: as the citation of complete biblical pericopes; as prayers or study passages; as the explicit citation of verses as midrashic-style proof texts to buttress the theological statement of a prayer; as reused biblical language, often adjusted in grammar and meaning to its new context; and in prayers that consist virtually entirely of concatenated unadapted verses.33 Derek Krueger makes similar observations regarding early Byzantine sources, remarking that diversity and variation have often been hidden by ‘Byzantine copyists and later preparers of critical editions [who] corrected near quotations to exact quotations’.34 Or, as Eva Mroczek points out, scholars have read the variants of the story or motif ‘either as proto-biblical, para-biblical, or biblical interpretation’, which they ‘assimilated into an evolutionary narrative with Bible’.35 Contrary to such approaches, Hindy Najman, for example, proposes to read biblical and pseudepigraphic literature not as variants of scripture, but as living, culturally contextualised discourses centred on important figures.36 This rereading of biblical material also resonates among scholars of ancient amulets.37 For example, several Greco-Egyptian amulets include narratives about Moses that do not compare with the current canons,38 and Ágnes 33

34 35

36

37

38

R. Langer, ‘Biblical Texts in Jewish Prayers: Their History and Function’, in A. Gerhards and C. Leonhard (eds), Jewish and Christian Liturgy and Worship: New Insights into its History and Interaction (Leiden, 2007), pp. 63–90 (63). Krueger, ‘The Hagiographer’s Bible’, p. 182. E. Mroczek, ‘The Hegemony of the Biblical in the Study of Second Temple Literature’, Journal of Ancient Judaism 6 (2015), pp. 2–35 (2). See also, e.g., L.I. Lied and H. Lundhaug (eds), Snapshots of Evolving Traditions: Jewish and Christian Manuscript Culture, Textual Fluidity, and New Philology (Berlin, 2017). H. Najman, Seconding Sinai: The Development of Mosaic Discourse in Second Temple Judaism (Leiden, 2003). See also A.Y. Reed, ‘Pseudepigraphy, Authorship, and the Reception of ‘the Bible’ in Late Antiquity’, in L. Di Tommaso and L. Turescu (eds), The Reception and Interpretation of the Bible in Late Antiquity (Leiden, 2008), pp. 467–490; D.V. Edelman and E. Ben Zvi (eds), Remembering Biblical Figures in the Late Persian and Early Hellenistic Periods: Social Memory and Imagination (Oxford, 2013). See, e.g., Meyer and Smith, Ancient Christian Magic, p. 29; Kotansky, Greek Magical Amulets, pp. 155–166; W. Brashear and R. Kotansky, ‘A New Magical Formulary’, in P. Mirecki and M. Meyer (eds), Magic and Ritual in the Ancient World (Leiden, 2002), pp. 3–24 (15–16). See, e.g., Kotansky, Greek Magical Amulets, p. 127; B.J.L. Peerbolte, ‘The Eighth Book of Moses (PLeid. J 395): Hellenistic Jewish Influence in a Pagan Magical Papyrus’, in M. Labahn and B.J.L. Peerbolte (eds), A Kind of Magic: Understanding Magic in the New Testament and its Religious Environment (London, 2007), pp. 184–194 (189–192).

148

korsvoll

T. Mihálykó observes that biblical quotations in pgm P13 seem to display ‘a deliberate variation with no other overall principle than variation itself’.39 Gideon Bohak notes ‘quite a few interesting examples of the use of biblical and parabiblical myths’ in ancient Jewish amulets,40 and de Bruyn and Jitse H.F. Dijkstra describe biblical references in Greco-Egyptian amulets very much like Langer’s description of Jewish liturgy quoted above: Passages may be quoted in an abbreviated form as a cipher for an entire work, as in the incipits of the gospels or the opening words of verses in a psalm. Often several passages are juxtaposed one with another, and sometimes they are quoted in an incomplete or confused manner.41 Joseph E. Sanzo proposes that these amulets do not rely on a Bible, but rather on a set of stories and figures that function as ‘a repository of individual thematic units’.42 De Bruyn agrees, describing it as a complex of ‘authoritative traditions … ignoring the boundaries of later classification’.43 Montgomery already remarked on the deviance from canonical texts among the biblical references in the Nippur incantation bowls.44 With more specimens having come to light, some scholars hold that the corpus nevertheless demonstrates that ‘by the fifth century ce the canon of sacred scriptures was a long-established text’.45 Others continue to argue that ‘biblical quotations appear mostly in pre-Masoretic spellings’.46 Still, all agree on the biblical material’s varied format and use in the bowls. Shaul Shaked, for instance, divides

39 40 41 42

43 44 45

46

Á.T. Mihálykó, ‘Christ and Charon: pgm P13 Reconsidered’, Symbolae Olsoenses 89 (2015), pp. 183–209 (203). Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic, p. 312. De Bruyn and Dijkstra, ‘Greek Amulets’, p. 172. J.E. Sanzo, ‘The Innovative Use of Biblical Traditions for Ritual Power: The Crucifixion of Jesus on a Coptic Exorcistic Spell (Brit. Lib. Or. 6796[4], 6796) as a Test Case’, Archiv für Religionsgeschichte 16 (2015), pp. 67–98 (71). De Bruyn, ‘Christian Apocryphal’, p. 171. Montgomery, Aramaic Incantation Texts, pp. 63–64. S. Shaked, J.N. Ford and S. Bhayro, Aramaic Bowl Spells: Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Bowls 1 (Leiden, 2013), p. 18. See also S. Shaked, ‘Form and Purpose in Aramaic Spells: Some Jewish Themes (The Poetics of Magic Texts)’, in S. Shaked (ed.), Officina Magica: Essays on the Practice of Magic in Antiquity (Leiden, 2005), pp. 1–30 (2); Lanfer, ‘Why Biblical Scholars’, p. 10. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘The Use of Biblical Quotations in Jewish Aramaic Incantation Bowls’, in H.R. Jacobus, A.K. de Hemmer Gudme and P. Guillaume (eds), Studies on Magic and Divination in the Biblical World (Piscataway, NJ, 2013), pp. 227–245 (228).

traces of a storied universe

149

biblical references into quotations, echoes of biblical themes, liturgical quotations, and allusions,47 while J.B. Segal finds direct quotations, citations from liturgy, or references with ‘a familiarity with Biblical narrative’.48 There has been some discussion regarding the biblical references and motifs in the late-antique Syriac amulets, but these have mainly been concerned with whether or not they are Christian.49 Here, I explore the Syriac amulets in light of the above, newer observations on how biblical material appeared and was used in Late Antiquity. 3.1 Biblical Material as Authoritative Discourse of Precedent More specifically, I do this through the abovementioned interpretive framework that Frankfurter proposes in his article on historiolae and the power of narrative.50 First, I present a brief recap on historiolae, the use of which is attested already in ancient Egypt and Babylonia.51 De Bruyn finds a good example in P.Oxy. viii 1151: ‘O Lord, † Christ, Son and Word of the living God, who heals every illness and every infirmity [Matt 4:23], also heal and watch over your handmaid Joannia …’.52 Thus including stories or myths in amulets is common, but there is some debate as to how they were considered efficacious. Jørgen Podemann Sørensen, who wrote an early and influential article on historiolae in ancient magic, argues that the mythical story provides a sacred precedent for the amulet’s intended outcome,53 while Henk Versel suggests that the connection with myth helps establish a liminal space wherein the amulet will work.54 Others hold that the precedent lies in the narrative itself,

47 48 49 50 51

52

53 54

Shaked, Ford and Bhayro, Aramaic Bowl Spells, pp. 18–22. Segal, Catalogue, p. 26. See, e.g., Gignoux, Incantations, pp. 57–58; Juusola, ‘Who Wrote’, p. 76; Gorea, ‘Coupes magiques’, p. 111. Frankfurter, ‘Narrating Power’. J.P. Sørensen, ‘The Argument in Ancient Egyptian Magical Formulae’, Acta Orientalia 45 (1984), pp. 5–19 (7). See also Levene, A Corpus, pp. 13–14; de Bruyn, ‘Christian Apocryphal’, p. 166. T. de Bruyn, ‘Appeals to Jesus and the One “Who Heals Every Illness and Every Infirmity” (Matt 4:23, 9:35) in Amulets in Late Antiquity’, in L. Di Tommaso and L. Turcescu (eds), The Reception and Interpretation of the Bible in Late Antiquity. Proceedings of the Montréal Colloquium in Honour of Charles Kannengiesser, 11–13 October 2006 (Leiden, 2008), pp. 65–81 (67). Sørensen, ‘The Argument’, p. 9. See also D.J. Waller, ‘Echo and the Historiola: Theorizing the Narrative Incantation’, Archiv für Religionsgeschichte 16 (2015), pp. 263–282 (277). H.S. Versnel, ‘The Poetics of the Magical Charm: An Essay on the Power of Words’, in P. Mirecki and M. Meyer (eds), Magic and Ritual in the Ancient World (Leiden, 2002), pp. 105–158 (150–151).

150

korsvoll

not necessarily in its mythical status or reference,55 and Frankfurter ascribes to this view in his examination of ancient historiolae through anthropological theory.56 Myth and ritual have been a favoured topic in anthropology for a long time, to the extent that I cannot summarise the many contributions here.57 Instead I proceed directly to Frankfurter’s article, where he combines perspectives from these efforts with insights from speech-act theory.58 He takes inspiration from William A. Graham, who asserted that ‘the sacrality or holiness of a book is not an a priori attribute of a text but one that is realized historically in the life of communities who respond to it as something sacred or holy’.59 But how, then, can we map or describe the processes by which myth or scripture is made powerful and set to work in amulets? After all, while historiolae are made (relevant) for the specific, situated amulet that they appear in, they also require a recognisable tradition ‘which establishes the historiola’s performative value and power’.60 To take this into account, Frankfurter builds on anthropologist Mary E. Mills’ breakdown of myth into different levels of discourse, proposing a framework of three tiers. These outline how a successful historiola contains or draws on: (1) the abstract set of concepts and relations that might crystallize around or into (2) certain figures, names, places, or folklore motifs according to a culture’s current circumstances, and then come into being within (3) a variety of performative settings according to a variety of forms.61 As I understand Frankfurter, the contextual, situated historiola or narrative in an amulet is the performative third tier. Here is the actual text, the material artefact it is written on, and the possible ritual context it is accompanied by. 55 56 57

58 59 60 61

See, e.g., S.I. Johnston, ‘Narrating Myths: Story and Belief in Ancient Greece’, Arethusa 48/2 (2015), pp. 173–218 (177). Frankfurter, ‘Narrating Power’, p. 459. See, e.g., B. Malinowski, Myth in Primitive Psychology (London, 1926); M. Eliade, Myth and Reality (New York, 1963); S.J. Tambiah, ‘A Performative Approach to Ritual’, Proceedings of the British Academy 65 (1979), pp. 113–169; J.Z. Smith, Imagining Religion: From Babylon to Jonestown (Chicago, 1982); R. Rappaport, Ritual and Religion in the Making of Humanity (Cambridge, 1999). See, e.g., D. Frankfurter, ‘Spell and Speech Act: The Magic of the Spoken Word’, in D. Frankfurter (ed.), Guide to the Study of Ancient Magic (Leiden, 2019), pp. 608–625. William A. Graham, Beyond the Written Word: Oral Aspects of Scripture in the History of Religion (Cambridge, 1987), p. 5. Frankfurter, ‘Narrating Power’, p. 473. Frankfurter, ‘Narrating Power’, p. 474.

traces of a storied universe

151

For the first tier, we have the broader, more abstract notions that, for instance, de Bruyn and Sanzo find behind biblical references, such as healing, salvation, or security. Scripture (with a capital S) certainly also belongs to this first tier. Yet, based on what I discussed above, I would place biblical material in the second tier. Hence, in light of the reconceptualization of biblical that Mroczek, Najman, Krueger, and others are proposing, I consider the biblical stories and motifs in amulets to be part of Frankfurter’s second tier: Finally, the specific terms, symbols, and motifs of composition (my level [2]) do not themselves constitute “myth” but rather the authoritative discourse of precedent in a given region at a certain time: stories, prayers, heroes and gods—a discourse that would certainly evolve through time (and particularly as a culture converted to Christianity or Islam).62 Now, as the former quotation from Frankfurter makes clear, this authoritative discourse of precedent, crystallised around figures, names, places or motifs, is conditioned by a culture’s current circumstances. This may include, but does not require, the Bible, scripture, or canon. As Bohak, de Bruyn, Sanzo, and others argue, canon, institutions, and religious authority are not unimportant for how and why amulets employ biblical material. Rather, the point is that their use is not necessarily derivative. This is the nuanced point I want to make by using Frankfurter’s analytical framework and by situating canonical, biblical texts within the second tier. As such they are part of a culture’s current circumstance, instead of an abstract theological or ideological idea or entity in the first tier (where conventional conceptions of Bible or Scripture might place them). Therefore, as I proceed to (re)examine four examples of biblical material in late-antique Syriac amulets, I expect to further elucidate their use and meaning, and, by extension, to shed more light on this still somewhat mysterious corpus.

4

(Biblical) Figures, Narratives, and Motifs in Syriac Amulets

4.1 ‘Jesus the Healer’ My first example is the invocation of ‘Jesus the healer’ in the incantation bowl cbs 9012, which is held in the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archae-

62

Frankfurter, ‘Narrating Power’, p. 474.

152

korsvoll

figure 6.2 cbs 9012 photograph: courtesy of the university of pennsylvania museum of archaeology and anthropology, image no. 228557

ology and Anthropology. It comes from the university’s excavations at Nippur and is preserved in its entirety. It is of average size, its text is written in the socalled Manichaean script,63 and it has a circle divided into four sections by a simple cross in the centre.64

63 64

Moriggi, A Corpus, pp. 16–18. This is a common graphic motif in the Syriac bowls (Moriggi, A Corpus, p. 43).

traces of a storied universe

153

The bowl contains fourteen lines of text, and Marco Moriggi notes several parallels among as yet unpublished bowls.65 Baruch Levine wrote of cbs 9012 that ‘the composition of the text reflects a definitive format … There are four successive passages, each beginning with the formula: ʾāsîr weḥātîm “bound and sealed”’.66 The first segment invokes ‘Jesus the healer’ (lines 1–3); the second segment refers to Moses and the Red Sea (lines 3–4);67 the following segments draw on a number of familiar entities in late-antique magic: celestial bodies (line 6), angels (line 7), Solomon (line 8), El Šadday, and Lord Abrasax (line 9).68 Here, I present Moriggi’s transcription and translation of the first segment: (1) mzmn hnʾ kʾsʾ lḥtwmyn̈ byth dmyḥrḥwrmyzd br mʾmy (2) bḥyl {ḥyl} dyyšwʿ ʾsyʾ bḥyl ʾḥny tqypʾ ʾsyr dwrh wmškwnth (3) wbyth wʾntth wbnḧ wbntḧ dmyḥrḥwrmyzd dmytqrʾ br mʾmy … (1) Prepared is this bowl for the sealings (of) the house of myḥrḥwrmyzd son of mʾmy (2) by virtue of the power of Jesus the healer, by virtue of the power of the mighty ʾḥny, bound is the dwelling and the tent (3) and the house and the wife and the sons and the daughters of myḥrḥwrmyzd who is called “son of mʾmy” …69 The text on the bowl is quite legible and it follows a common structure and uses common terminology, so there has been no significant debate on the reading or translation, except for the invocation of ‘Jesus the healer’ and ‘the mighty ʾḥny’. Montgomery, in his publication of cbs 9012, emended ʾḥny to ʾḥyny, ‘my relative’ or ‘my cousin’, arguing that the practitioner thus claims kinship to the powerful healer.70 However, while this is possible, it does appear somewhat speculative. I prefer Moriggi’s interpretation of ʾḥny as a power name, one of the many unidentified nomina barbara in this genre.71 The identity of this ‘Jesus the healer’ remains uncertain. Montgomery understood him to be the famous, much-referenced Joshua bar Peraḥya, as ʾsyʾ, 65 66 67 68 69 70 71

Moriggi, A Corpus, p. 47. B. Levine, ‘The Language of the Magical Bowls’, in J. Neusner (ed.), A History of the Jews in Babylonia: V. Later Sasanian Times (Leiden, 1970), pp. 343–373 (372). See more below. Moriggi, A Corpus, pp. 47–49. Moriggi, A Corpus, p. 48. Montgomery, Aramaic Incantation Texts, pp. 231–233. See also Hamilton, ‘Syriac Incantation Bowls’, p. 105. Moriggi, A Corpus, pp. 48–49.

154

korsvoll

‘healer’ or ‘physician’, is a common epithet in the incantation bowls and in another bowl found to describe Joshua bar Peraḥya.72 Victor Hamilton was less adamant, proposing either Joshua bar Peraḥya or Jesus Christ as possible identifications.73 Markham J. Geller suggested that this bowl is part of a wider tradition in Late Antiquity that centred on the healing abilities of Jesus of Nazareth.74 More recently, Maria Gorea and Gaby Abousamra note that this is an invocation of Jesus Christ, but without further discussion or comment,75 while Moriggi declines to express an opinion on this.76 In the end, a definitive identification is impossible. As Montgomery noted, ʾsyʾ is a common epithet; for instance, it is used later in cbs 9012 as an epithet for the angel Michael, as well as among lists of powerful beings in cbs 16097 and BnF Syr 400/2.77 So, in terms of Frankfurter’s framework, the second tier escapes us in this case. However, if the names or epithets remain vague, perhaps the motif or the structure of the incantation can help. The segment itself is fairly simple, consisting of two figures with an epithet, each of which is being invoked because of his ḥyl, ‘power’. The motif of powerful agents is again common in amulets,78 so ‘Jesus the healer’ has both an ordinary epithet and an ordinary motif here. Moreover, this simple motif for agency is repeated for ʾḥny, and the parallel structure in the segment places ‘Jesus the healer’ on a par with ‘the mighty ʾḥny’. So, while the identity of or reference to ‘Jesus the healer’ remains uncertain, he is characterised by being invoked in parallel with another figure and by the common or generic apotropaic qualities that are ascribed to him. This parallels what de Bruyn finds in Greco-Egyptian amulets, where invocations of Jesus typically consist of only the name and a generic epithet.79 Some of his examples

72 73 74

75 76 77 78 79

Montgomery, Aramaic Incantation Texts, p. 233. Hamilton, ‘Syriac Incantation Bowls’, pp. 96 and 139. M.J. Geller, ‘Jesus’ Theurgic Powers: Parallels in the Talmud and Incantation Bowls’, Journal of Jewish Studies 28 (1977), pp. 141–155 (153). See also N.H. Korsvoll, ‘Jesus of Nazareth Revisited: Markham J. Geller’s Apotropaic Jesus Forty Years Later’, Journal of the Jesus Movement in its Jewish Setting 6 (2019), pp. 88–109. Gorea, ‘Coupes magiques’, p. 114; G. Abousamra, ‘Coupe de prière syriaque chrétienne’, Parole de l’ orient 35 (2010), pp. 23–34 (28). Moriggi, A Corpus, pp. 48–49. cbs 9012, line 7 (Moriggi, A Corpus, p. 48); cbs 16097, line 9 (Moriggi, A Corpus, p. 53); BnF Syr 400/2, line 48 (Gignoux, Incantations, pp. 34–35). See, e.g., Moriggi, A Corpus, p. 232; Naveh and Shaked, Amulets and Magic Bowls, p. 270. T. de Bruyn, ‘Ancient Applied Christology: Appeals to Christ in Greek Amulets in Late Antiquity’, in E.M. Leonard and K. Merriman (eds), From Logos to Christos: Essays on Christology in Honour of Joanne McWilliam (Waterloo, on, 2010), pp. 3–18 (4–5); de Bruyn, Making Amulets Christian, pp. 70–71.

traces of a storied universe

155

include liturgical language, but this is not the case for cbs 9012 where both Jesus’ epithet and the reference to his power are common, apotropaic qualities. 4.2 Moses and the Red Sea For my second example, I continue along the spiralled text of cbs 9012 to its apparent reference to Moses and the parting of the Red Sea. As with ‘Jesus the healer’, the text is well-preserved and quite legible, so there is little disagreement as to its reading: ʾsyr wḥtym (4) ʾyk dʾmr mwšʾ ̇ lymʾ dswp wqmw ʾyk šwrʾ dmn trwyhwn gysḧ Bound and sealed is (4) as said Moses to the Red Sea and stood (the waters) like walls that (were) on both sides.80 These lines are preceded by the earlier quotation, and then followed by a similarly structured adjuration calling on the word of God and divine order. It has been proposed that this adjuration is also based on a biblical reference, but this has not yet been fully explored.81 Returning to the cited excerpt, it is evidently not Exodus 14:21–22 verbatim. As opposed to the previous case, however, there are enough elements to direct us to the specific story. But this raises the question of whether the second tier, in this case, is the wider Exodus narrative, or whether it is an apotropaic motif, or a miracle story, or something else? Turning again to its function, this passage is another example of a historiola, where the story serves as a precedent for what the adjuration wants to achieve.82 Broken down according to Frankfurter’s framework, there is the historiola (tier 3), relying on the story of Moses parting the Red Sea (tier 2), which communicates salvation, divine power, divine protection, etc. (tier 1). However, as I noted earlier, scholars debate the reference versus the narrative in ancient historiolae, and, while the reference here is clear enough, there is not much of an actual narrative or story; there is no dialogue, no sequence of events, and no story arc to serve as exemplar for the subjugation that the segment seeks to

80 81 82

Moriggi, A Corpus, p. 48. See, e.g., Montgomery, Aramaic Incantation Texts, p. 233; Hamilton, ‘Syriac Incantation Bowls’, p. 139. See also Montgomery, Aramaic Incantation Texts, p. 64; Levine, ‘The Language’, pp. 374– 375; Moriggi, A Corpus, p. 47.

156

korsvoll

establish. As such, the reference to Moses and the Red Sea may just as well be considered an apotropaic motif, rather than a historiola. Frankfurter calls such cases ‘clausal historiolae’, setting them apart from ‘historiolae proper’. The latter include actual narratives, whereas clausal historiolae are ‘a subsidiary invocation to a directive utterance, a command or prayer’.83 This distinction does not help us to discern the exact nature of the reference to Moses and the Red Sea in cbs 9012, but the reference does compare better with a clausal historiola’s emphasis on invocation and command. Hence, it appears to lean more towards the emphasis on figures formulated in Najman’s ‘Mosaic discourse’, rather than the canonical narrative in Exodus 14:21–22. 4.3 Other (Biblical) Figures: Noah and Solomon Turning to another Syriac incantation bowl, ao 207964-O, its invocations of Noah and Solomon are remarkably like that of Moses above; indeed, the two segments of text and the structure of the incantation as a whole are both similar to what we saw in cbs 9012. There are several studies of ao 207964-O, but here I again present the excerpt from Moriggi’s transliteration and translation: (10) … ʾsyr wḥtym bʿyzqtʾ dḥtymʾ bh šmyʾ wʾrʿʾ wbḥtmʾ dḥtmh nwḥ lkywlh wbʿ[ y]zqth dšlymwn (11) dḥtymyn bh šʾdʾ wdÿwʾ wbḥtmʾ rbʾ ḥtymyn ḥtymyn mzrzyn wmšrryn qmʿyʾ hlÿn … (10) … Bound and sealed by the signet ring by which heaven and earth are sealed and by the seal by which Noah sealed his ark and by the signet ring of Solomon (11) by which demons and devils are sealed and by the great seal are sealed, sealed, armed and made strong these amulets …84 The bowl is similar in size to cbs 9012, with a diameter of 17.5 cm and thirteen lines of text, but it differs in that it is written in Estrangela script.85 The bowl belongs to the Smithsonian Institution in Washington DC, and it is held at the National Museum of Natural History. It was acquired in 1900/01, following its purchase from the Rev. Gabriel Oussani, and hails from Hillah, the capital of Babylon Province that is situated to the south of ancient Babylon.86

83 84 85 86

Frankfurter, ‘Narrating Power’, p. 469. See also Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic, p. 113; de Bruyn, ‘Christian Apocryphal’, p. 166. Moriggi, A Corpus, pp. 139–140. Moriggi, A Corpus, p. 138. It also has some rather remarkable drawings and symbols, which I do not discuss here. ‘Incantation Bowl, inscribed in Syriac’, Smithsonian Institution, Washington D.C. Entry last

traces of a storied universe

157

figure 6.3 ao 207964-O. Catalogue no: A207964 photograph: courtesy of the department of anthropology, smithsonian institution. photographer: donald. e. hurlbert

Starting with Noah, this is again an invocation of a biblical figure with reference to a specific (and popular) story, but without any actual narrative features; hence, it functions as a clausal historiola. Given the brief reference to the ark, it is again difficult to ascertain if this points to Genesis 6–9 specifically, or if it draws on the wealth of apotropaic topics and traditions linked to Noah that can be found in other sources.87 This is even more evident when it comes to

87

modified: 07.12.2016. Entry read: 20.09.2020. url: https://www.si.edu/object/incantation​ ‑bowl‑inscribed‑syriac:nmnhanthropology_8046135. See, e.g., M.D. Swartz, ‘Magical Piety in Ancient and Medieval Judaism’, in M. Meyer and P. Mirecki (eds), Ancient Magic and Ritual Power (Leiden, 1995), pp. 167–183 (172–173); Juusola, ‘Who Wrote’, pp. 83–84; J. VanderKam, ‘The Demons in the Book of Jubilees’, in

158

korsvoll

the following reference to Solomon, around whom there was, and indeed still is, an extensive lore concerning apotropaic or magic powers. Especially linked to his seal or ring (for instance, he appears, as I noted earlier, in cbs 9012).88 Returning to the two references in ao 207964-O (tier 3), they both clearly draw on themes of divine power and salvation (tier 1), but it remains unclear which part of the culture’s current circumstance carries this (tier 2). As with Moses and the Red Sea, there are several possibilities, but being clausal historiolae I again find it most likely that the (biblical) figure(s) here are the lynchpins, and not the biblical narratives that they also appear in. 4.4 Biblical Formulae Moving on, amulets also use (biblical) formulae or formulaic language, which is another well-known link to institutional religion or practice.89 My example here is the phrase (mn hš) wlʿlm ʿlmyn, ‘(from now) and forever and ever’, which appears throughout both Jewish and Christian tradition,90 as well as in numerous other amulets and incantation bowls.91 I find it in six of the published Syriac amulets from Late Antiquity,92 but restrict myself to two cases. First, there is BnF Syr 400/1, which is one of three leather amulets made for the client ‘kwrwhzʾd, called yzdʾnzʾdg, daughter of dynq’. They were given to the Cabinet des Médailles de la Bibliothèque Nationale de Paris, currently the Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF), by Mohsen Foroughi, who had acquired them in Iran. BnF Syr 400/1–2 was acquired in 1972, while the third amulet appeared some years later. All three were published by Philippe Gignoux in

88

89 90

91 92

A. Lange, H. Licthenberger and D. Römheld (eds), Demons: The Demonology of IsraeliteJewish and Early Christian Literature in Context of their Environment (Tübingen, 2003), pp. 339–364 (339–344). See, e.g., Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic, pp. 93–105; P.A. Torijano, ‘Solomon and Magic’, in J. Verheyden (ed.), The Figure of Solomon in Jewish, Christian and Islamic Tradition: King, Sage and Architect (Leiden, 2013), pp. 107–126 (108–115); R. Boustan and M. Beshay, ‘Sealing the Demons, Once and For All: The Ring of Solomon, the Cross of Christ, and the Power of Biblical Kingship’, Archiv für Religionsgeschichte 16 (2015), pp. 99–129. See, e.g., J. Naveh and S. Shaked, Magic Spells and Formulae: Aramaic Incantations of Late Antiquity (Jerusalem, 1993), pp. 28–29; de Bruyn, Making Amulets Christian, pp. 184–185. See, e.g., A. Lehnardt, Qaddish: Untersuchungen zur Entstehung und Rezeption eines rabbinischen Gebetes (Tübingen, 2002), pp. 54–55; H. van de Sandt and D. Flusser, The Didache: Its Jewish Sources and its Place in Early Judaism and Christianity (Minneapolis, 2002), pp. 294–295; L.J. Johnson, Worship in the Early Church: An Anthology of Historical Sources 1 (Collegeville, MN, 2009), p. 37. Shaked, Ford and Bhayro, Aramaic Bowl Spells, p. 21; Lanfer, ‘Why Biblical Scholars’, p. 20. BnF Syr 400/1 and BnF Syr 400/2, in Gignoux, Incantations; ibc 3, im 142513, ao 207964-O and 4 N 161, in Moriggi, A Corpus.

traces of a storied universe

159

figure 6.4 BnF Syr 400/1 photograph: courtesy of the bibliothèque nationale de france

160

korsvoll

1987.93 BnF Syr 400/1 measures 27 by 9cm, contains 92 lines of text, and came to the museum rolled up in a cylindrical brass container.94 The text is a standard combination of adjurations and invocations, in Estrangela script and surrounded by a border. The forever-and-ever formula concludes a brief, separate adjuration at the top of the amulet: (3a) … wptkrwtʾ ttbṭl (4a) mn hdʾ yzdʾnzʾdg bt dynq mn hš wlʿlm (5a) ʿlmyn ʾmyn ʾmyn slḥ (3a) … et que l’idolâtrie soit anéantie, (4a) loin de cette Yazdān-zādag, fille de Dēnag, à partir de maintenant et pour les siècles (5a) des siècles. Amin, amin, Selah.95 My second example comes from ao 207964-O, which I introduced in the previous section. Here too the phrase comes at the very end of the incantation, closing a doxology: (13) … ʾnʾ ktbty ʾlhʾ nʾsʾ mn hš wlʿlm ʾyn wʾmyn ʾmyn ʾmyn slḥ (13) … I wrote, God heals, from now and forever, yes and amen, amen, amen, selah.96 In brief, these cases show that while the phrase is recognisable across specimens, it is not fixed—the exact wording varies—but it is always used to conclude segments or texts, herein mirroring its use in liturgy and biblical texts. It is reasonable to conclude, as many have indeed done, that the amulets engage with or draw on liturgical practice and/or biblical text, which would be the relevant cultural circumstances in tier 2. However, this and other similar formulae are also found in numerous other contexts. For instance, Syriac manuscripts are known for their extensive colophons, comments, and scholia, and these are ‘often followed by a doxology’.97 Typically, older studies paid 93 94 95 96 97

Gignoux, Incantations, p. 2. Gignoux, Incantations, p. 2. Gignoux, Incantations, pp. 18–19. Moriggi, A Corpus, p. 140. M. Mundell Mango, ‘The Production of Syriac Manuscripts, 400–700ad’, in G. Cavallo, G. de Gregorio and M. Maniaci (eds), Scritture, libri e testi nelle aree provinciali di Bisanto: Atti del seminaro di Erice (Spoleto, 1991), p. 164.

traces of a storied universe

161

little attention to these, but increasingly scholars have begun to explore their significance.98 For instance, Thomas A. Carlson has pointed out that Syriac colophons typically consist of stock phrases, among which liturgical or biblical formulae figure prominently.99 Indeed, Eva Riad argues that one ‘cannot speak of one sacred and one secular literary tradition’ in early Syriac scribal tradition, as topics, themes, and scribes overlap.100 Therefore, rather than seeing biblical formulae as derivatives from liturgy or canonical texts, they may instead be understood as part and parcel of written expression. Certainly, the formulae are special in that they are connected with ritual agency, but this in fact only makes sense since the written word in and of itself was thought to hold agency in Antiquity.101

5

Discussion and Outlook: A Shared Storied Universe

Revisiting the above examples of biblical references and motifs in late-antique Syriac amulets, my aim was to explore them as manifestations of, rather than derivations from, stories and figures found also in the Bible. Using Frankfurter’s analytical framework, I propose that they draw on a broader authoritative discourse of precedent, wherein the biblical canon played an important but not exclusive part. Sanzo paints a similar picture from late-antique Egypt, where he finds that the personal taste or creativity of the amulet maker seems to guide ‘the apotropaic, exorcistic, and curative uses of names, especially names of famous figures associated with long-standing traditions’.102 Similarly, Sara Ronis understands late-antique Talmudic demonology as ‘cultural interactions and transcultural tropes, as different groups of Late Antique Jews adopt, adapt and reject diverse cultural options available to them in the cosmopolitan com-

98

99 100 101

102

See, e.g., E. Riad, Studies in the Syriac Preface (Uppsala, 1988), p. 15; T.A. Carlson, ‘Formulaic Prose? Rhetoric and Meaning in Late Medieval Syriac Manuscript Colophons’, Hugoye: Journal of Syriac Studies 18 (2015), pp. 379–398 (381–382); E. Mroczek, ‘The End of the Psalms in the Dead Sea Scrolls, Greek Codices, and Syriac Manuscripts’, in L.I. Lied and H. Lundhaug (eds), Snapshots of Evolving Traditions: Jewish and Christian Manuscript Culture, Textual Fluidity, and New Philology (Berlin, 2017), p. 300. Carlson, ‘Formulaic Prose?’, pp. 383–387. Riad, Studies, p. 13. See, e.g., Frankfurter, ‘Spell and Speech Act’; S.B. Noegel, ‘“Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign”: Script, Power, and Interpretation in the Ancient Near East’, in A. Annus (ed.), Divination and Interpretation of Signs in the Ancient World (Chicago, 2010), pp. 143–162. Sanzo, ‘The Innovative Use’, p. 87.

162

korsvoll

munities in which they lived’.103 The variations in type and form suggest that such a freedom also existed in regard to the Syriac amulets; however, there are also some shared features that, necessarily, demarcate their authoritative discourse of precedent. First, the relevant themes or principles behind the discourse are, unsurprisingly, salvation, divine power, or divine protection. These themes are welldocumented in ancient amulets,104 so it is no surprise to find that the figures or stories dealt with here also point towards these principles in their first tier. The amulets aim to protect and to heal, and therefore naturally appeal to notions of protection and healing. Second, the absence of long lists of names is noteworthy because this was an otherwise common and time-honoured form of invocation in late-antique amulets.105 For instance, Bohak discusses how such lists suggest that the names functioned simply as power names or nomina barbara, without any explicit reference.106 This is, of course, a conjecture, but such lists hold no signs of references or connections to a second tier. Therefore, the lack of such invocations in Syriac amulets suggests that the figures and motifs here do indeed carry meaningful reference(s) to an authoritative discourse of precedent, which is somehow anchored in their culture’s current circumstances. But what can we learn about it? My final observation is that the references and invocations are brief, flexible, and, at the risk of repeating myself, not necessarily linked to a specific biblical passage. Jesus the healer, Noah, and Solomon are all identified by epithets that link them to known stories or story-clusters, but not necessarily to a specific one. Moses and the Red Sea is specific, but the function seems again to be identifying the figure rather than rendering a special narrative. Moreover, in their respective spells, the figures are placed parallel to other figures of power— suggesting a more open and diverse authoritative discourse of precedent than that enshrined in canonical scripture. Likewise, the forever-and-ever formula is recognisable across the amulets, both in form and use, but also across other genres of writing, both sacral and secular. In fact, returning to Sanzo, he argues that the ambiguity or openness of several of the references in late-antique amulets may well be intentional:

103 104 105 106

S. Ronis, ‘Intermediary Beings in Late Antique Judaism: A History of Scholarship’, Currents in Biblical Research 14 (2015), pp. 94–120 (96). See, e.g., Naveh and Shaked, Magic Spells and Formulae, pp. 22–31; de Bruyn and Dijkstra, ‘Greek Amulets’, pp. 184–195. T. Harviainen, ‘Syncretistic and Confessional Features in Mesopotamian Incantation Bowls’, in Studia Orientalia 70 (Helsinki, 1993), pp. 29–37 (33); Versnel, ‘The Poetics’, p. 117. Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic, pp. 254–257.

traces of a storied universe

163

In addition, the ubiquity of the amuletic use of Mt 4:23/9:35, which makes a general reference to the many healings of Jesus in Galilee, may be related to the passage’s open-endedness and, hence, capacity for allowing practitioners to invent new Jesus traditions about healing and/or appropriate local non-canonical tales for their rituals.107 This resonates with my examples from the Syriac amulets, where the figures are included as independent entities, but with short and generic epithets that could have been salient to a variety of local traditions. Thus, recasting the biblical references or motifs as parts of a somehow broader, authoritative tradition helps explain the thematic orientation, the fluid format, and the parallels with non-biblical stories. This, in turn, suggests that the amulets operate within something like a storied universe, where figures, with associated qualities or stories, can be accessed according to specific needs or topical relevance, without hailing to one specific religion or tradition.

Bibliography G. Abousamra, ‘Coupe de prière syriaque chrétienne’, Parole de l’Orient 35 (2010), pp. 23–34. P.H. Alexander, J.F. Kutsko, J.D. Ernest, C. Decker-Lucke and D.L. Petersen (eds), The sbl Handbook of Style: For Ancient Near Eastern, Biblical and Early Christian Studies (Peabody, MA, 1999). S. Bhayro, ‘On Early Jewish Literature and the Aramaic Magic Bowls’, Aramaic Studies 13 (2015), pp. 54–68. G. Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic: A History (Cambridge, 2008). R. Boustan and M. Beshay, ‘Sealing the Demons, Once and For All: The Ring of Solomon, the Cross of Christ, and the Power of Biblical Kingship’, Archiv für Religionsgeschichte 16 (2015), pp. 99–129. W. Brashear and R. Kotansky, ‘A New Magical Formulary’, in P. Mirecki and M. Meyer (eds), Magic and Ritual in the Ancient World (Leiden, 2002), pp. 3–24. T. de Bruyn, Making Amulets Christian: Artefacts, Scribes, and Contexts (Oxford, 2017). T. de Bruyn, ‘Christian Apocryphal and Canonical Narratives in Greek Amulets and Formularies in Late Antiquity’, in P. Piovanelli and T. Burke (eds), Rediscovering the Apocryphal Continent: New Perspectives on Early Christian and Late Antique Apocryphal Texts and Traditions (Tübingen, 2015), pp. 153–174.

107

Sanzo, ‘The Innovative Use’, p. 84.

164

korsvoll

T. de Bruyn, ‘Ancient Applied Christology: Appeals to Christ in Greek Amulets in Late Antiquity’, in E.M. Leonard and K. Merriman (eds), From Logos to Christos: Essays on Christology in Honour of Joanne McWilliam (Waterloo, on, 2010), pp. 3–18. T. de Bruyn, ‘Appeals to Jesus and the One “Who Heals Every Illness and Every Infirmity” (Matt 4:23, 9:35) in Amulets in Late Antiquity’, in L. Di Tommaso and L. Turcescu (eds), The Reception and Interpretation of the Bible in Late Antiquity. Proceedings of the Montréal Colloquium in Honour of Charles Kannengiesser, 11–13 October 2006 (Leiden, 2008), pp. 65–81. T. de Bruyn and J.H.F. Dijkstra, ‘Greek Amulets and Formularies from Egypt Containing Christian Elements: A Checklist of Papyri, Parchments, Ostraka, and Tablets’, Bulletin of the American Society of Papyrologists 48 (2011), pp. 163–216. T.A. Carlson, ‘Formulaic Prose? Rhetoric and Meaning in Late Medieval Syriac Manuscript Colophons’, Hugoye: Journal of Syriac Studies 18 (2015), pp. 379–398. M. Choat, Belief and Cult in Fourth-Century Papyri (Turnhout, 2006). M. Choat, ‘Echo and Quotation of the New Testament in Papyrus Letters to the End of the Fourth Century’, in T.J. Kraus and T. Nicklas (eds), New Testament Manuscripts: Their Texts and Their Worlds (Leiden, 2006), pp. 267–292. D.V. Edelman and E. Ben Zvi (eds), Remembering Biblical Figures in the Late Persian and Early Hellenistic Periods: Social Memory and Imagination (Oxford, 2013). M. Eliade, Myth and Reality (New York, 1963). D. Frankfurter, ‘Spell and Speech Act: The Magic of the Spoken Word’, in D. Frankfurter (ed.), Guide to the Study of Ancient Magic (Leiden, 2019), pp. 608–625. D. Frankfurter, ‘Scorpion/Demon: On the Origin of the Mesopotamian Apotropaic Bowl’, Journal of Near Eastern Studies 74 (2015), pp. 9–18. D. Frankfurter, ‘Narrating Power: The Theory and Practice of the Magical Historiola in Ritual Spells’, in M. Meyer and P. Mirecki (eds), Ancient Magic and Ritual Power (Leiden, 1995), pp. 457–476. M.J. Geller, ‘Jesus’ Theurgic Powers: Parallels in the Talmud and Incantation Bowls’, Journal of Jewish Studies 28 (1977), pp. 141–155. P. Gignoux, Incantations magiques syriaques (Louvain, 1987). R. Gordon, ‘Shaping the Text: Innovation and Authority in Graeco-Egyptian Malign Magic’, in H.F.J. Horstmanshoff, H.W. Singor, F.T. van Straten and J.H.M. Strubbe (eds), kykeon: Studies in Honour of H.S. Versnel (Leiden, 2002), pp. 69–111. M. Gorea, ‘Coupes magiques syriaques et manichéennes en provenance de Mésopotamie’, in F. Briquel Chatonnet, M. Debié and A. Desreumaux (eds), Les inscriptions syriaques (Paris, 2004), pp. 107–116. William A. Graham, Beyond the Written Word: Oral Aspects of Scripture in the History of Religion (Cambridge, 1987). E. Haerinck and B. Overlaet, Early Bronze Age Graveyards to the West of the Kabir Kuh (Pusht-i Kuh, Luristan) (Leuven, 2010).

traces of a storied universe

165

V. Hamilton, ‘Syriac Incantation Bowls’ (Ann Arbor, 1971). Y. Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah (Detroit, 2017). T. Harviainen, ‘Syncretistic and Confessional Features in Mesopotamian Incantation Bowls’, in Studia Orientalia 70 (Helsinki, 1993), pp. 29–37. H.V. Hilprecht, Explorations in Bible Lands during the 19th Century (Philadelphia, 1903). E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Magic and Medicine Amongst the Christians of Kurdistan’, in E.C.D. Hunter (ed.), The Christian Heritage of Iraq: Collected Papers from the Christianity in Iraq i–v Seminar Days (Piscataway, NJ, 2009), pp. 187–202. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Traversing Time and Location: A Prayer-Amulet to Mar Tamsis from Turfan’, in D.W. Winkler and L. Tang (eds), From the Oxus River to the Chinese Shores: Studies on East Syriac Christianity in China and Central Asia (Salzburg, 2013), pp. 23– 41. L.J. Johnson, Worship in the Early Church: An Anthology of Historical Sources 1 (Collegeville, MN, 2009). S.I. Johnston, ‘Narrating Myths: Story and Belief in Ancient Greece’, Arethusa 48/2 (2015), pp. 173–218. H. Juusola, ‘Who Wrote the Syriac Incantation Bowls?’, in Studia Orientalia 85 (Helsinki, 1999), pp. 75–92. M. Klinghardt, ‘Prayer Formularies for Public Recitation: Their Use and Function in Ancient Religion’, Numen 46 (1999), pp. 1–52. N.H. Korsvoll, ‘Jesus of Nazareth Revisited: Markham J. Geller’s Apotropaic Jesus Forty Years Later’, Journal of the Jesus Movement in its Jewish Setting 6 (2019), pp. 88–109. N.H. Korsvoll, ‘Bible Bible Everywhere? Reviewing the Distribution of Biblical Quotes in Ancient Amulets’, Biblische Notizen 176 (2017), pp. 89–100. N.H. Korsvoll and L.I. Lied, ‘Enoch and Baruch: Unusual Suspects in a Syriac Amulet’, Journal of Near Eastern Studies 75 (2016), pp. 349–360. R. Kotansky, Greek Magical Amulets: The Inscribed Gold, Silver, Copper, and Bronze Lamellae. Part i: Published Texts of Known Provenance (Köln, 1994). D. Krueger, ‘The Hagiographer’s Bible: Intertextuality and Scriptural Culture in the Late Sixth and the First Half of the Seventh Century’, in D. Krueger and R.S. Nelson (eds), The New Testament in Byzantium (Washington DC, 2016), pp. 177–189. P. Lanfer, ‘Why Biblical Scholars Should Study Aramaic Bowl Spells’, Aramaic Studies 13 (2015), pp. 9–23. R. Langer, ‘Biblical Texts in Jewish Prayers: Their History and Function’, in A. Gerhards and C. Leonhard (eds), Jewish and Christian Liturgy and Worship: New Insights into its History and Interaction (Leiden, 2007), pp. 63–90. A. Lehnardt, Qaddish: Untersuchungen zur Entstehung und Rezeption eines rabbinischen Gebetes (Tübingen, 2002). D. Levene, A Corpus of Magic Bowls: Incantation Texts in Jewish Aramaic from Late Antiquity (London, 2003).

166

korsvoll

B. Levine, ‘The Language of the Magical Bowls’, in J. Neusner (ed.), A History of the Jews in Babylonia: V. Later Sasanian Times (Leiden, 1970), pp. 343–373. L.I. Lied and H. Lundhaug (eds), Snapshots of Evolving Traditions: Jewish and Christian Manuscript Culture, Textual Fluidity, and New Philology (Berlin, 2017). B. Malinowski, Myth in Primitive Psychology (London, 1926). M. Meyer and R. Smith, Ancient Christian Magic: Coptic Texts of Ritual Power (San Francisco, 1994). Á.T. Mihálykó, ‘Christ and Charon: pgm P13 Reconsidered’, Symbolae Olsoenses 89 (2015), pp. 183–209. J.A. Montgomery, Aramaic Incantation Texts from Nippur (Philadelphia, 1913). M. Moriggi, ‘“And the Impure and Abominable Priests Fled for Help to the Names of the Devils”: Amulets and Magical Practices in Syriac Christian Culture Between Late Antiquity and the Modern World’, Hugoye: Journal of Syriac Studies 19 (2016), pp. 371– 384. M. Moriggi, A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls: Syriac Magical Texts from Late-Antique Mesopotamia (Leiden, 2014). E. Mroczek, ‘The End of the Psalms in the Dead Sea Scrolls, Greek Codices, and Syriac Manuscripts’, in L.I. Lied and H. Lundhaug (eds), Snapshots of Evolving Traditions: Jewish and Christian Manuscript Culture, Textual Fluidity, and New Philology (Berlin, 2017), pp. 297–320. E. Mroczek, ‘The Hegemony of the Biblical in the Study of Second Temple Literature’, Journal of Ancient Judaism 6 (2015), pp. 2–35. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘The Use of Biblical Quotations in Jewish Aramaic Incantation Bowls’, in H.R. Jacobus, A.K. de Hemmer Gudme and P. Guillaume (eds), Studies on Magic and Divination in the Biblical World (Piscataway, NJ, 2013), pp. 227–245. C. Müller-Kessler, Die Zauberschalentexte in der Hilprecht-Sammlung, Jena, und weitere Nippur-Texte anderer Sammlungen (Wiesbaden, 2005). C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Of Jesus, Darius, Marduk …: Aramaic Magic Bowls in the Moussaieff Collection’, Journal of the American Oriental Society 125 (2005), pp. 219–240. M. Mundell Mango, ‘The Production of Syriac Manuscripts, 400–700 ad’, in G. Cavallo, G. de Gregorio and M. Maniaci (eds), Scritture, libri e testi nelle aree provinciali di Bisanto: Atti del seminaro di Erice (Spoleto, 1991). H. Najman, Seconding Sinai: The Development of Mosaic Discourse in Second Temple Judaism (Leiden, 2003). J. Naveh, ‘A Syriac Amulet on Leather’, Journal of Semitic Studies 17 (1997), pp. 33–38. J. Naveh and S. Shaked, Magic Spells and Formulae: Aramaic Incantations of Late Antiquity (Jerusalem, 1993). J. Naveh and S. Shaked, Amulets and Magic Bowls: Aramaic Incantations of Late Antiquity (Jerusalem, 1985). S.B. Noegel, ‘“Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign”: Script, Power, and Interpretation in the

traces of a storied universe

167

Ancient Near East’, in A. Annus (ed.), Divination and Interpretation of Signs in the Ancient World (Chicago, 2010), pp. 143–162. B.J.L. Peerbolte, ‘The Eighth Book of Moses (PLeid. J 395): Hellenistic Jewish Influence in a Pagan Magical Papyrus’, in M. Labahn and B.J.L. Peerbolte (eds), A Kind of Magic: Understanding Magic in the New Testament and its Religious Environment (London, 2007), pp. 184–194. J.P. Peters, Nippur: Explorations and Adventures on the Euphrates: The Narrative of the University of Pennsylvania Expedition to Babylonia in the Years 1888–1890 ii (London, 1897). R. Rappaport, Ritual and Religion in the Making of Humanity (Cambridge, 1999). A.Y. Reed, ‘Pseudepigraphy, Authorship, and the Reception of ‘the Bible’ in Late Antiquity’, in L. Di Tommaso and L. Turescu (eds), The Reception and Interpretation of the Bible in Late Antiquity (Leiden, 2008), pp. 467–490. E. Riad, Studies in the Syriac Preface (Uppsala, 1988). S. Ronis, ‘Intermediary Beings in Late Antique Judaism: A History of Scholarship’, Currents in Biblical Research 14 (2015), pp. 94–120. H. van de Sandt and D. Flusser, The Didache: Its Jewish Sources and its Place in Early Judaism and Christianity (Minneapolis, 2002). J.E. Sanzo, ‘The Innovative Use of Biblical Traditions for Ritual Power: The Crucifixion of Jesus on a Coptic Exorcistic Spell (Brit. Lib. Or. 6796[4], 6796) as a Test Case’, Archiv für Religionsgeschichte 16 (2015), pp. 67–98. J.E. Sanzo and N.H. Korsvoll, ‘A New Testament Text on a Syriac Incantation Bowl: Eph. 6:10–17 on ibc 3’, Vigiliae Christianae 71 (2017), pp. 417–432. A.B. Schmidt and G. Abousamra, ‘Une amulette syriaque dans la collection du Matenadaran à Yerevan (roleau 9–90),’ The Harp 29 (2014), pp. 143–164. J.B. Segal, Catalogue of the Aramaic and Mandaic Incantation Bowls in the British Museum (London, 2000). S. Shaked, ‘Form and Purpose in Aramaic Spells: Some Jewish Themes (The Poetics of Magic Texts)’, in S. Shaked (ed.), Officina Magica: Essays on the Practice of Magic in Antiquity (Leiden, 2005), pp. 1–30. S. Shaked, ‘Jews, Christians and Pagans in the Aramaic Incantation Bowls of the Sasanian Period’, in A. Destro and M. Pesce (eds), Religions and Cultures: First International Conference of Mediterraneum (Binghampton, NY, 2002), pp. 61–89. S. Shaked, ‘Popular Religion in Sasanian Babylonia’, Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 21 (1997), pp. 103–117. S. Shaked, J.N. Ford and S. Bhayro, Aramaic Bowl Spells: Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Bowls 1 (Leiden, 2013). J.Z. Smith, Imagining Religion: From Babylon to Jonestown (Chicago, 1982). J. Spier, Late Antique and Early Christian Gems (Wiesbaden, 2007). M.D. Swartz, ‘Magical Piety in Ancient and Medieval Judaism’, in M. Meyer and P. Mirecki (eds), Ancient Magic and Ritual Power (Leiden, 1995), pp. 167–183.

168

korsvoll

J.P. Sørensen, ‘The Argument in Ancient Egyptian Magical Formulae’, Acta Orientalia 45 (1984), pp. 5–19. S.J. Tambiah, ‘A Performative Approach to Ritual’, Proceedings of the British Academy 65 (1979), pp. 113–169. S. Thrope, ‘Magic bowls of antiquity’, Aeon. Published 24th May 2016. Retrieved 8th July 2019. https://aeon.co/essays/what‑should‑be‑done‑with‑the‑magic‑bowls‑of‑jewish​ ‑babylonia. P.A. Torijano, ‘Solomon and Magic’, in J. Verheyden (ed.), The Figure of Solomon in Jewish, Christian and Islamic Tradition: King, Sage and Architect (Leiden, 2013), pp. 107–126. J. VanderKam, ‘The Demons in the Book of Jubilees’, in A. Lange, H. Licthenberger and D. Römheld (eds), Demons: The Demonology of Israelite-Jewish and Early Christian Literature in Context of their Environment (Tübingen, 2003), pp. 339–364. H.S. Versnel, ‘The Poetics of the Magical Charm: An Essay on the Power of Words’, in P. Mirecki and M. Meyer (eds), Magic and Ritual in the Ancient World (Leiden, 2002), pp. 105–158. J. van der Vliet, ‘Christian Spells and Manuals from Egypt’, in D. Frankfurter (ed.), Guide to the Study of Ancient Magic (Leiden, 2019), pp. 322–350. D.J. Waller, ‘Echo and the Historiola: Theorizing the Narrative Incantation’, Archiv für Religionsgeschichte 16 (2015), pp. 263–282.

chapter 7

Soundings in the Textual History of Syriac Amulets David Calabro

1

Introduction

In northern Mesopotamia during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries ce, there circulated among Syriac-speaking Christian communities a large number of charms against various dangers and maladies. These charms were inscribed on scrolls and small codices, which clients would wear as a protection.1 The codices, which could contain any number of charms from twelve to over seventy, are conventionally known by the title Book of Protection, reflecting the Syriac Ktābtā d-núṭārā da-bnaynāšā ‘Writing of the protection of humans’.2 The precise number of charms is still unknown, but a conservative estimate would be around eighty-five.3 From the colophons of these manuscripts, we know that they were typically produced by priests, and sometimes by deacons and sons of priests. The powers invoked in the charms are saliently Christian, including Christ, the Virgin Mary, and various saints. However, the texts are part of a long tradition of Aramaic and Semitic apotropaic magic, which can be detected in the names of demons, the use of ancient formulae for binding and expelling evil powers, and the basic structure of many of the charms.4 Versions of some 1 The production of the codices for clients is attested in the colophons of many of the manuscripts. Typically, these refer to the client formulaically as ‘the blessed youth, the beautiful shoot’ (‫ܐ‬犯‫ ܫܦܝ‬焏‫ܪܒ‬熏‫ ܘܢ‬焏‫ܝܟ‬犯‫ ܒ‬焏‫ )ܥܠܝܡ‬and include his name. In some cases, blank spaces are left for the names of the client, his father, his mother, and his home town, which are filled in later. Secondary circulation of the codices is also frequently attested, as the original client’s name is blotted or scratched out and replaced by another name. The manuscripts’ small size (typically around 8 × 6 cm) and heavy wear support the assumption that the clients would keep them on their persons, as implied by the phrase ‘the bearer of these amulets’ (爯‫ܛܥܝ‬ 爯‫̈ܕܐ ܗܠܝ‬熏‫ )ܝ‬that appears in the text of the charms. 2 Many variations of this title appear in the manuscripts. This is part of the overall variation we find in the manuscripts, which is explored at length below. 3 See Zellmann-Rohrer’s contribution to this volume. 4 See A. Lyavdansky, ‘Syriac Charms in Near Eastern Context: Tracing the Origin of Formulas’, in T.A. Mikhailova, J. Roper, A.L. Toporkov, and D.S. Nikolayev (eds), Oral Charms in Structural and Comparative Light: Proceedings of the Conference of the International Society for Folk Narrative Researches (isfnr), Committee on Charms, Charmers and Charming, 27–29 October, Moscow (Moscow, 2011), pp. 15–21.

© David Calabro, 2022 | doi:10.1163/9789004467200

170

calabro

of the charms have also been found in ancient contexts at Turfan and at Hadath Grotto in Lebanon.5 As soon as we start comparing different manuscripts of the Book of Protection, one of the most striking things we notice is the high degree of variation between them. For example, the Anathema of Mar ʿAbdishoʿ shows such drastic variation that the prospect of a critical edition of the charm would seem impractical. Even the revealed names of power that are used to bind the evil spirit in this charm vary, not only in spelling but in the selection and number of names, so that one might wonder how a copyist could ensure the effectiveness of the charm while taking such liberties. Yet not all charms vary to such a degree. The Prayer of Adam, for instance, is textually stable from one manuscript to another. Thus, one of the main problems associated with the Book of Protection is that of explaining why some portions are textually stable while others are not. Specifically, the contrast between drastic textual variation, on the one hand, and textual stability, on the other, raises questions such as the following: 1. Does the variation or stability attach to certain types of charms? For instance, is it the case that named anathemas, like the Anathema of Mar ʿAbdishoʿ, are especially prone to variation, while charms linked to biblical tradition, like the Prayer of Adam, are inclined to stability? 2. Is variation linked to the age of the charm? That is, would older charms tend to vary more, while newer ones would be more stable because they have had less time to change through transmission? (If this is true, we would expect the charm Binding the Guns and the Engine of War, which is obviously a newer charm because it is tied to newer technology, to be very stable.) A related problem arising from the high degree of textual variation is that of the categorisation of the charms. For instance, do charms to protect cattle from harmful creatures and from the Evil Eye align more with charms against harmful creatures and the Evil Eye, or with charms for cattle? Some manuscript evidence also implies that charms for a man called to stand before a magistrate may belong to a general category of charms for binding the tongues of slanderers, and this may in turn be part of a larger category including charms

5 G. Abousamra, ‘Two Syriac Amulets from Hadath Grotto (Qadisha)’, Parole de l’Orient 38 (2013): 213–230; E. Hunter, ‘Traversing Time and Location: A Prayer-Amulet of Mar Tamsis from Turfan’, in Li Tang and Dietmar W. Winkler (eds), From the Oxus River to the Chinese Shores: Studies on East Syriac Christianity in China and Central Asia (Vienna and Berlin: Lit Verlag, 2013), pp. 25–40.

soundings in the textual history of syriac amulets

171

to protect against sorcery.6 Establishing the categories of charms may help to clarify whether certain categories are more prone to variation than others. This categorisation should be based not only on the rubrics of the charms (which vary and can be misleading), but also on a comparison of the text of the charms, with special attention to their structure. Previous studies on the textual history of the charms are very few, and none have focused on the textual differences between manuscripts. Erica Hunter has published a form-critical study of selected anathemas found in nine manuscripts.7 This study focuses on structural aspects, illuminating a four-part structure frequently found in anathemas attributed to saints. The focus on structure is appropriate, as we shall see below, for these charms tend to share a common structure despite the wide range of textual variation. In addition, Alexey Lyavdansky and Heleen Murre-Van den Berg discuss the long-range history of some formulas used in the Book of Protection, tracing these formulas to earlier Jewish, Islamic, and ancient Mesopotamian texts.8 The present study draws on sixteen manuscripts, which contain a total of 639 charms (including repeated instances of the same charm).9 These charms were cataloged according to their rubrics, then sorted into categories. Some charms, such as named anathemas, were also sorted by individual charm; others were ambiguous due to variation in the rubrics and could not be reliably differentiated beyond subject categories like anti-weapon charms and charms against reptiles. Eleven of the sixteen manuscripts are dated, allowing the charms to be further sorted in chronological order. This allows a view of historical development spanning about a century and a half, from 1734 (the date of the earliest manuscript at my disposal, BnF Ms Syr 347) to 1883 (the date of the last manuscript, dfm 417). In this study, I begin the task of comparing and sort6 In the manuscript Rylands Ms Syr 52, the rubrics of some charms mention binding the tongues of rulers, Muslims, and those who deny the Christian faith. 7 E. Hunter, ‘Saints in Syriac Anathemas: A Form-Critical Analysis of Role’, Journal of Semitic Studies 32/1 (1987): pp. 83–104; see also H. Murre-van den Berg, Scribes and Scriptures: The Church of the East in the Eastern Ottoman Provinces (1500–1850) (Leuven: Peeters, 2015), pp. 210–211. The nine manuscripts employed in Hunter’s study are Berlin Ms Or Oct 553, Berlin Sachau 95, bl Ms Or 6673, Cambridge Ms Syr Add 3086, Gollancz A, Gollancz B, Houghton Syr 159, Mingana Ms 316, and Mingana Ms 583. 8 Lyavdansky, ‘Syriac Charms’; Murre-van den Berg, Scribes and Scriptures, p. 211. 9 The manuscripts are as follows: Berlin Ms Or Oct 553 (dated 1800), Berlin Sachau 95 (dated 1779), BnF Ms Syr 347 (dated 1734), Cambridge Ms Syr Add 3086 (undated), csdma 16 (dated 1837), csdma 18 (undated), dfm 417 (dated ca. 1883), Gollancz A (dated 1803), Gollancz B (undated), Houghton Syr 156 (dated 1827), Houghton Syr 160 (dated 1804), Houghton Syr 162 (undated), Houghton Syr 163 (dated 1809), Houghton Syr 165 (undated), Rylands Ms Syr 52 (two parts dated 1795 and 1851), Vienna Hs Syr 7 (dated 1826).

172

calabro

ing out the individual charms to describe their textual history. Specifically, I will focus on three things: (1) introductory prayers, (2) an anathema known as the Anathema of the Gospel, and (3) anti-weapon charms. I will argue that the Book of Protection seems to resist, by nature, a rigid textual stemma; rather, the study of its textual history leads us to an anthropology of the creation and use of the charms.

2

Four Introductory Prayers

Most manuscripts of the Book of Protection open with four short introductory prayers: the Prayer of the Shepherds (quoting from the words of the heavenly host in Luke 2:14), the Lord’s Prayer (quoting from Matthew 6:9–13), the Prayer of Adam, and the Prayer of the Angels, almost always in that order.10 Some manuscripts include additional material at the very beginning (see below), and some omit one or more of the introductory prayers, but this combination of four prayers is common enough that it may be considered standard. Following these prayers are the charms of the book proper, usually starting with the Anathema of the Gospel. In six manuscripts, a loose conglomerate of prayer formulae, beginning with an invocation of the Trinity and the Trisagion, is added at the beginning. Although this material occurs in the earliest manuscripts, it contrasts sharply with the four standard introductory prayers in its high degree of textual variation. Indeed, in the earliest manuscript available for study, BnF Ms Syr 347, this material consists only of the invocation and the Trisagion, and it is unclear whether it was intended as a distinct text. Thus it is appropriate to treat the four standard introductory prayers independently of this initial material. The four standard introductory prayers are in reverse chronological sequence, implicitly performing a process of accretion in which prayers have been added to the beginning of the book over time. The Prayer of the Angels is presumably primordial or timeless, the Prayer of Adam has an implicit setting after the expulsion from Paradise,11 and the Lord’s Prayer is from the Sermon

10 11

The one exception is csdma 16, in which the Prayer of the Angels precedes the Prayer of Adam. The prayer mentions Jesus Christ in his role as the Saviour, which would fit with a setting after God has taught Adam about the future coming of Christ, as attested in the Cave of Treasures and in the Arabic Combat of Adam and Eve with Satan. The wider context in the Book of Protection implies that the prayer is meant to help access God’s protection, which would be appropriate after the expulsion, when Adam and Eve began to encounter tribu-

soundings in the textual history of syriac amulets

173

on the Mount during his ministry. The Prayer of the Shepherds also fits with this reverse sequence, following the canonical order of the Gospels rather than a harmonised chronology of the life of Christ. These four introductory prayers are among the most textually stable parts of the Book of Protection. Textual variation occurs commonly enough from one manuscript to the next, but the variation is relatively minor. Indeed, it is possible to posit an original text of these prayers:

爏‫ ܘܥ‬焏‫ ܥܠ̈ܝ‬焏‫ܐ ܒܡܪܘܡ‬煿‫ܠ‬焏‫ܐ ܠ‬狏‫ܚ‬熏‫ ܬܫܒ‬:‫ܬܐ‬熏‫ܬܐ ܕܪܥ‬熏‫ܨܠ‬ 焏‫ ܠܒܢ̈ܝܢܫ‬焏‫ܐ ܛܒ‬犯‫ ܣܒ‬焏‫ ܫܠܡ‬焏‫ܐܪܥ‬ ‫ܬܟ‬熏‫ ܬܐܬܐ ܡܠܟ‬燿‫ܫ ܫܡ‬煟‫ܩ‬狏‫ ܢ‬焏‫ܢ ܕܒܫܡܝ‬熏‫ ܐܒ‬:‫ܢ‬犯‫ܬܐ ܕܡ‬熏‫ܨܠ‬ 焏‫ ܠܚܡ‬爯‫ ܗܒܠ‬焏‫ܪܥ‬焏‫ ܐܦ ܒ‬焏‫ ܕܒܫܡܝ‬焏‫ ܐܝܟܢ‬燿‫ܘܐ ܨܒܝܢ‬煿‫ܘܢ‬ 爯‫ ܫܒܩ‬爯‫ ܕܐܦܚܢ‬焏‫ ܐܝܟܢ‬爯‫ܝ‬煿̈‫ ܘܚܛ‬爯‫̈ܒܝ‬熏‫ ܚ‬爯‫ܩܠ‬熏‫ ܘܫܒ‬焏‫ܡܢ‬熏‫ ܝ‬爯‫ܢܩܢ‬熏‫ܕܣ‬ 燿‫ ܕܕܝܠ‬爏‫ ܡܛ‬焏‫ ܒܝܫ‬爯‫ܢ ܡ‬犏‫ ܦ‬焏‫ ܐܠ‬焏‫ܢ‬熏‫ ܠܢܣܝ‬爯‫ ܬܥܠ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬爯‫ܠܚܝܒ̈ܝ‬ 爯‫ ܥܠܡܝ‬爟‫ܐ ܠܥܠ‬狏‫ܚ‬熏‫ ܘܬܫܒ‬焏‫ܬܐ ܚܝܠ‬熏‫ܡܠܟ‬ 焏‫ܥ ܡܫܝܚ‬熏‫ ܝܫ‬燿‫ ܘܠ‬爯‫ܕܝܢ‬熏‫ ܡ‬焏‫ܐ ܕܟܠ‬犯‫ܡ‬熏‫ ܠܟ‬:‫ܬܐ ܕܐܕܡ‬熏‫ܨܠ‬ ‫ܢ‬狏‫ ܕܢܦ̈ܫ‬焏‫ܘܩ‬犯‫ܘ ܦ‬狏‫ ܘܐܢ‬.爯‫ ܕܦܓܪܝ‬焏‫ܘ ܡܢܚܡܢ‬狏‫ ܕܐܢ‬爯‫ܡܫܒܚܝܢ‬ ‫ܬܐ‬熏‫ ܡܝ‬焏‫ ܠ‬焏‫ܝܫ‬煟‫ ܩ‬焏‫ܢ‬狏‫ ܚܝܠ‬焏‫ܝܫ‬煟‫ܐ ܩ‬煿‫ ܐܠ‬焏‫ܝܫ‬煟‫ ܩ‬:焏‫̈ܟ‬焏‫ܬܐ ܕܡܠ‬熏‫ܨܠ‬ ‫ܟ‬煟‫ ܥܒ‬爏‫ ܥ‬焏‫ܢ ܐܬܪܥ‬犯‫ܬܢ ܡ‬熏‫ ܒܥ‬爏‫ܢ ܩܒ‬犯‫ ܡ‬爯‫ ܥܠܝ‬爟‫ܢ ܐܬܪܚ‬犯‫ܡ‬ 爯‫ܕܐ ܗܠܝ‬熏̈‫ ܝ‬爯‫ ܛܥܝ‬焏‫ܗܢ‬ Prayer of the Shepherds: Praise to God in the exalted heights, and on earth peace, good will to humankind. Prayer of Our Lord: Our Father who is in heaven, may your name be sanctified. May your kingdom come, may your will be done—as in heaven, so on earth. Give us the bread we need daily, and forgive us our debts and our sins, even as we have forgiven our debtors. And do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for yours is the kingdom, the power, and the praise forever and ever. Prayer of Adam: You, O Lord of All, we thank. And you, Jesus Christ, we praise; for you are the Reviver of our bodies, and you are the Saviour of our souls. Prayer of the Angels: Holy God, Omnipotent Holy One, Immortal Holy One! Our Lord, have mercy on us! Our Lord, receive our supplication! Our Lord, be pleased with this servant of yours who bears these charms!

lations, darkness, and attacks from Satan. Also note that the prayer is in the first-person plural, which implies that the prayer is offered by Adam and Eve together.

174

calabro

In the earliest manuscript available for study, BnF Ms Syr 347, all of the prayers lack titles (although the charms of the text proper do have titles), so it is an open question whether the titles were an original feature of the text of these prayers. Without the titles, there is nothing in the Prayer of Adam and the Prayer of the Angels to connect these prayers with Adam and the angels, although these identifications may have been transmitted orally. Of these prayers, only the Prayer of the Angels shows significant textual variation. In some versions, the first word, 焏‫ܝܫ‬煟‫ܩ‬, is reinterpreted as part of the title and rendered as a plural form (with Seyame), so the title becomes ‘Prayer of the Holy Angels’. This changes the syntax of the beginning of the charm to ‫ܬܐ‬熏‫ ܡܝ‬焏‫ ܠ‬焏‫ܝܫ‬煟‫ ܩ‬焏‫ܢ‬狏‫ ܚܝܠ‬焏‫ܝܫ‬煟‫ܐ ܩ‬煿‫‘ ܐܠ‬Holy God, Holy Omnipotent One, Immortal One’ (this is the reading according to Gollancz A, dated 1803).12 This variation is minor compared to what we find elsewhere in the book. Several factors may contribute to the textual stability of these introductory prayers. Each of them is very short. They also occur at the very beginning of the book, which may make them easier to retain in memory than charms that occur later in the book. Two of them, namely the Prayer of the Shepherds and the Lord’s Prayer, are quoted from scripture (both appear to be based on the New Testament Peshiṭta); this tie to a preexisting text would undoubtedly help to keep textual variation in check. Yet the link to the biblical text need not have required a process of copying from one book to another; instead, it may have been based on memory. These are well-known passages, quoted in the liturgy and likely used in sermons and in private discourse. These characteristics— the shortness of the texts, the occurrence at the beginning of the book, and the link to well-known biblical texts—suggest that the textual stability of these introductory prayers may fit with a process of spontaneous and creative production, as implied by other charms that exhibit a much higher degree of variation.

3

Anathema of the Gospel

The Anathema of the Gospel (‫ܢ‬熏‫ ܕܐܘܢܓܠܝ‬焏‫ܡ‬犯‫)ܚ‬, said in one early rubric to be ‘useful against all maladies’ (爯‫̈ܒܝ‬焏‫ ܟ‬爏‫ ܠܟ‬熯‫ܕܚܫ‬, Berlin Sachau 95, dated 1779), is typically the first charm of the Book of Protection after the introductory prayers.

12

Houghton Syr 163, dated 1809, adopts the longer form of the title (ending with 焏‫̈ܝܫ‬煟‫)ܩ‬ while retaining the original reading of the opening words (beginning with 焏‫ܝܫ‬煟‫)ܩ‬.

soundings in the textual history of syriac amulets

175

Unlike the introductory prayers, the Anathema of the Gospel shows a great deal of textual variation, from paraphrasing and the transposition of phrases to the addition or omission of whole sections. Only manuscripts written by the same scribe show a high degree of similarity. However, what all the manuscript witnesses of this charm do share is a common structural core. This core consists of two parts: (1) a quotation from John 1:1–5; and (2) an invocation of names of power to protect the bearer of the book from evil, beginning with the formula ̈ 焏‫ܝܫ‬煟̈‫ ܩ‬焏‫ܓܡ‬狏‫ܐ ܦ‬犯‫ ܥܣ‬爯‫ ܕܗܠܝ‬焏‫‘ ܒܚܝܠ‬By the power of these ten holy words’ or a variation of this formula.13 These two structural elements always occur at the beginning of the charm, one immediately after the other. Despite the great degree of textual variation evident in this charm, the very beginning, which consists of a quotation of John 1:1–5 (based on the New Testament Peshiṭta), is textually stable. This is exactly like the first two introductory prayers, being a quotation of a well-known biblical passage at the beginning of the charm. Therefore, the degree of textual stability in the Anathema of the Gospel decreases as one proceeds further into the charm, from the textually stable biblical quotation at the very beginning to the textually variable but structurally stable invocation of names of power, and finally to the addition of different sections at the end. In the earliest available witness to this charm, BnF Ms Syr 347, the invocation of names (which is much shorter than all subsequent witnesses) is followed by a continuation of the quotation from John 1, including verses 6–15.14 There is no picture or other decoration. A gap of about 45 years separates this early witness

13

14

The manuscript Vienna Hs Syr 7 is exceptional, including only the quotation from John 1:1– 5. Gollancz assumed that the ‘ten words’ are the Ten Commandments; see H. Gollancz, The Book of Protection (London: Oxford University Press, 1912), p. lxii. However, the pronoun ‘these’ implies that the words are taken from John 1:1–5. Further, this formula also occurs in the charm Binding the Guns and the Engine of War in Houghton Syr 163, and there it is also explicitly linked to John 1:1–5. The ‘ten words’ are most likely the repeated names referring to God in this passage: three instances of ‘the Word’, three instances of ‘God’, two instances of ‘the Life’, and two instances of ‘the Light’. The Syriac words, in order of appearance, are as follows: ‫ܐ‬狏‫ܡܠ‬, ‫ܐ‬狏‫ܡܠ‬, ‫ܐ‬煿‫ܐܠ‬, ‫ܐ‬煿‫ܐܠ‬, ‫ܐ‬狏‫ܡܠ‬, ‫ܐ‬煿‫ܐܠ‬, 焏‫ܚ̈ܝ‬, 焏‫ܚ̈ܝ‬, ‫ܗܪܐ‬熏‫ܢ‬, ‫ܗܪܐ‬熏‫ܢ‬. The invocation of names ends with 爯‫ ܘܐܡܝ‬爯‫ ܐܡܝ‬at the bottom of fol. 4r, then the continuation of the quotation starting with John 1:6 begins at the top of fol. 4v. Thus, rather than viewing the structure of the charm as a long quotation from John 1 with the invocation of names inserted in the middle, we should view it as essentially bipartite: The two-element structural core forms the first part, and the continuation of the quotation from John 1 is tacked on as a second part. Unfortunately, the leaf containing the end of this charm is wanting.

176

calabro

from our next dated manuscript. Following this period, we see two branches of development. Some manuscripts set some of the text near the beginning of the charm inside a grid and add a picture of the four evangelists.15 These manuscripts end after the invocation of names. Other manuscripts have no grid or picture, but they include a separate section, entitled ‫ܝ‬狏‫ܢ ܕܡ‬熏‫‘ ܐܘܢܓܠܝ‬Gospel of Matthew’ (or a variation of this title) and quoting passages from Matthew and Mark (Matthew 10:7–10; Mark 16:15–18; Matthew 28:18–20; Mark 6:13) plus some additional material. We can refer to these two branches of development as Groups 1 and 2 respectively. The distribution is as follows: Group 1 Berlin Sachau 95 (1779) Berlin Ms Or Oct 553 (1800) Gollancz A (1803) Houghton Syr 160 (1804) Houghton Syr 156 (1827) Group 2 Houghton Syr 163 (1809) Rylands Ms Syr 52, Part 1 (undated) Some manuscripts vary even more or do not fall into either of these groups. Vienna Hs Syr 7 (dated 1826) has a grid and a picture of the four evangelists but has no invocation of names, including only the quotation from John 1:1–5. csdma 16 (dated 1837) has an invocation of names calling upon the four evangelists, but it has no grid or picture of the evangelists; instead, it has a picture of a lone saint holding a censer. dfm 417 (dated 1883) seeks to unite the tradition, including the main elements of Groups 1 and 2: a very long invocation of names, the grid, the picture of the evangelists, and the ‘Gospel of Matthew’ section.16 All of this underscores the high degree of variation we see in this charm, aside from the biblical quotation at the beginning.

15 16

The part of the charm that occurs in the grid is not fixed but varies from one manuscript to the next. dfm 417 is larger than other manuscripts of the Book of Protection, and it is joined to another book consisting of medical remedies. This late manuscript, rather than being an actual Book of Protection, may represent a sort of compendium, assembled in order to preserve the tradition.

soundings in the textual history of syriac amulets

4

177

Anti-weapon Charms

A variety of charms in the Book of Protection are aimed at protecting the bearer of the book from weapons. Some untangling is necessary to gain a clear picture of the repertoire of these charms, since the titles vary and overlap with each other. A comparison of the texts, however, reveals that there are six distinct charms. Two of these are very common in the manuscripts: Binding the Arrows and All Weapons of War (焏‫ܪܐ ܘܚܢܓܪܐ ܘܣ̈ܝܦ‬焏‫ܐ ܕܓ‬犯‫ܐܣ‬ 焏‫ ܩܪܒ‬營‫̈ܢ‬焏‫)ܘܟܠܡ‬, and Binding the Guns and the Engine of War (‫ܐ‬犯‫ܐܣ‬ 犟‫ ܘܕܡܢܓܢܝ‬焏‫)ܕܬ̈ܘܦ‬.17 The following discussion will focus on these two. The other four have only one occurrence each and thus are not susceptible to a description in terms of textual history.18 The two common anti-weapon charms vary substantially from one manuscript to the next, yet, unlike many other charms, the variation is limited to the level of the phrase, including the alteration, addition, omission, and transposition of phrases. Each of these two charms has a more complicated structure than the Anathema of the Gospel, containing between eight and nine core elements that are basically constant across the textual witnesses. The charm Binding the Arrows and All Weapons of War has a structure consisting of nine elements: 1 Invocation of the Trinity 2 Reference to the crucifixion, with a quotation from Psalm 22:2 (as quoted by Jesus on the cross) 3 Quotation from Psalm 46:9: ‘He breaks the bows and breaks the spears’ 4 Quotation from Psalm 37:15: ‘Their sword shall enter into their own heart’ 5 Invocation of names of power, including the prophet Elijah 6 Quotation from Psalm 7:13–14: ‘He ordains their arrows against the persecutor’ 7 Reference to the throne of God 8 Quotation from Psalm 91:5: ‘You shall not be afraid of the arrow that flies by day’

17 18

Both title forms are standardised. These four are as follows: Binding the arrows, swords, spears, and axes (‫ܪܐ‬焏‫ܐ ܕܓ‬犯‫ܐܣ‬ 焏‫ܐ ܘܣܟܝ̈ܢ‬狏‫ ܘܣܟ̈ܝܢ‬焏‫ ܘܕܦܪܙܝܢ‬焏‫ܗ ܘܬ̈ܘܦ‬犯‫ ܘܚܢܓ‬焏‫ܬܐ ܘܪܘܡܚ‬狏‫ ܘܩ̈ܫ‬焏‫ܘܕܣ̈ܝܦ‬, attested only in BnF Ms Syr 347), Binding the swords (焏‫ܐ ܕܣ̈ܝܦ‬犯‫ܐܣ‬, attested only in ̈ Houghton Syr 162), Binding the swords and all weapons of war (焏‫ ܘܬܘܦ‬焏‫ܐ ܕܣ̈ܝܦ‬犯‫ܐܣ‬ ̈ ̈ 焏‫ ܩܪܒ‬營‫ܢ‬焏‫ ܡ‬爏‫ ܘܟ‬焏‫ ܘܣܟܝܢ‬焏‫ܘܪܘܡܚ‬, attested only in dfm 417), and Binding the gun ̈ of the warriors (焏‫ ܣ̈ܝܦ‬焏‫ܐ ܬܘܦ ܕܒܥܠ‬犯‫ܐܣ‬, attested only in Cambridge Ms Syr Add 3086).

178

calabro

9

Reference to the cardinal directions: command that weapons be removed from the bearer of the book ‘as far as the east is from the west’, etc. The charm is also typically accompanied by a picture of assorted weapons, including at least one bow and arrow, swords, daggers, spears, and sometimes guns. There is some question as to whether guns are original to this charm. The focus of the charm, at least in the earlier manuscripts, is definitely arrows. All of the quoted scriptural passages have to do with arrows, except for Psalm 37, which deals with a sword. In addition, lists of weapons in the title and in the body of the charm typically mention arrows first. Guns are often (though not always) mentioned in these lists, but, when they are mentioned, they typically appear at the end of the list. This may suggest a process of accretion in which additional weapons, including guns, tended to be tacked on at the ends of lists. Nevertheless, even the earliest manuscripts mention guns and include them in the accompanying picture, so the incorporation of guns into the charm must have begun before our earliest available evidence. In three manuscripts, we see a trend toward guns being made the focus of this charm. In Houghton Syr 163 (dated 1809), both the title and the text place ̈ guns first in the list of weapons; thus the title reads 焏‫ ܘܣ̈ܝܦ‬焏‫ܐ ܕܬܘܦ‬犯‫ܐܣ‬ ‫ ܘܚܢܓܪܐ‬焏‫‘ ܘܪܘܡܚ‬Binding the guns, swords, spears, and daggers’—exactly like some instances of the title for the other major anti-weapon charm, Binding the Guns and the Engine of War. That charm actually follows this one in ̈ Houghton Syr 163, with the rubric 焏‫ܐ ܕܬܘܦ‬犯‫ ܐܣ‬焏‫ܢ‬犯‫‘ ܐܚ‬Another binding charm for guns’. Without a textual analysis across manuscripts, it would be easy to confuse these two charms and to fail to recognise the first charm as Binding the Arrows and All Weapons of War. Similarly, the late manuscript dfm 417 (dated 1883) places guns first in the title and in the text of this charm, and the undated first part of Rylands Ms Syr 52 alters the title but not the text in this way. Overall, we can detect in the history of this charm a gradual repurposing of what was originally a protection against arrows as a protection against guns. This makes sense as a response to the growing prevalence of guns during that time. The charm Binding the Guns and the Engine of War has eight consistent elements: 1 Invocation of the Trinity 2 Quotation from Psalm 29: ‘voice of the Lord that cuts the flame of fire’19 3 Voice of the Lord against Gog, Magog, Meshech, and Togarmah

19

This opening quotation sets the ‘voice of the Lord’ theme for the following two elements.

soundings in the textual history of syriac amulets

179

4

Voice of the Lord against the craft of wicked enemies, etc., that they not be moved, heated, or come forth from their mouths against the one bearing these writs, Amen. 5 Matthew 11: Jesus’s rebuke of Capernaum 6 Matthew 8: Jesus arose and rebuked the sea 7 By that power I bind, expel, and anathematise the bullets from the one who bears these writs 8 By the prayer of the Holy Virgin, the Mother of Light There also consistently appears an illustration of guns accompanying this charm. Some of the variation we see in individual manuscripts shows interesting adaptation to the theme of the charm. In Gollancz A, instead of ‘Mother of Light’ (‫ܗܪܐ‬熏‫ ܕܢ‬焏‫ )ܐܡ‬at the end, we have ‘Mother of Fire’ (‫ܪܐ‬熏‫ ܕܢ‬焏‫)ܐܡ‬. And in Houghton Syr 163, instead of the usual metathesised form 焏‫ܬܘܪܓܡ‬ for Togarmah in the third section, we have 焏‫ܡ‬犯‫‘ ܬܘܦ ܓ‬the gun of Garmah’. Although the degree of variation in these two charms is considerably less than what we see in many others, it is still essentially creative variation within the parameters of a common structure, the difference being that the structure in these cases is more complex, more tightly defined, than in most other charms. The types of variation we see in the anti-weapon charms, which are common to the book as a whole, are significant in understanding how the charms were transmitted. First, we often see variation in the extent of biblical quotations. The basic notion that a particular passage should be quoted is constant, but the one creating a given manuscript might quote briefly or extensively as desired. For example, in Berlin Sachau 95, in Binding the Arrows and All Weapons of War, the quotation from Psalm 22 extends beyond the words of Jesus on the cross from verse 2 (營‫ܢ‬狏‫ ܫܒܩ‬焏‫ ܠܡܢ‬營‫ ܐܝܠ‬營‫‘ ܐܝܠ‬My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’) and includes all of verses 2–3. Second, names of power may be added or omitted at will, but this usually occurs within limited parameters, such as the name of John the Baptist appearing after that of the Virgin Mary. All of this indicates a process of transmission that is highly creative, albeit drawing on deep knowledge of the tradition.

5

Conclusions

I have attempted here to make sense of the different degrees of textual variation we find in the Book of Protection. It is possible to describe a spectrum of textual variation in this book. Some portions are textually stable, such as the introductory prayers and the first part of the Anathema of the Gospel (the quo-

180

calabro

tation from John 1:1–5). These portions tend to be short and are often anchored to a biblical passage. Next along the spectrum, some portions are textually variant but have a complex structure that remains stable, such as the two main anti-weapon charms. These often exhibit variation within limited parameters, such as drawing out or abbreviating the extent of biblical quotations. Finally, we see more drastic structural variation around a common structural core in cases like the Anathema of the Gospel. Given the drastic differences between manuscripts of the Book of Protection, the classical stemma model is only partially apt for describing the textual history of the book. However, it may be possible to describe the individual charms diachronically in terms of cultural history. When we compare the manuscript witnesses of a given charm, we find that the closest witnesses belong to families of manuscripts produced by the same scribe. These families belong, in turn, to larger groups, which are textually variant but structurally similar. Groups of manuscripts can be compared chronologically to reveal trends in the development of the charms, such as the divergence of the two variant groups of the Anathema of the Gospel and the adaptation of Binding the Arrows and All Weapons of War as a charm against guns. Overall, this analysis points to a creative manner of production for manuscripts of the Book of Protection. A priest would draw on both personal inspiration and extensive experience with the tradition of the charms in order to produce a manuscript of the book for a client. The process of production of the book was thus similar to the performance of a charm. Rather than invoking the powers of heaven aloud to combat a present evil, the priest would channel this power into the book, which could then be carried to protect the bearer over a long period of time. Such a scenario fits much better with the textual evidence than an alternative scenario of rote copying from a written exemplar. The creative manner of the book’s production has interesting consequences for the classification of some of the charms. For instance, the title and the text may be equally important guides to the classification. The text of both can be varied in order to repurpose a charm. A case in point is the charm labeled ‘Binding the Guns …’ in Houghton Syr 163 and dfm 417, which is actually Binding ̈ the Arrows and All Weapons of War, but with ‘guns’ (焏‫ )ܬܘܦ‬placed first in the title and in the text. The charm following immediately after in Houghton Syr 163, which is genuinely Binding the Guns and the Engine of War, is accordingly labeled ‘Another binding charm for guns’. In cases like this, how do we classify the altered text? It is evident that the charm in these manuscripts is meant to be a protection primarily against guns. But from the standpoint of textual history, the charm is really primarily against arrows; indeed, it may originally have had nothing to do with guns at all. I would suggest that while questions of typo-

soundings in the textual history of syriac amulets

181

logy and of textual history force us to classify this text as essentially Binding the Arrows and All Weapons of War, the classification that accords most with the nature of the book itself is as a variant of Binding the Guns and the Engine of War. The classical model of textual history would classify the alteration of the text as an aberration; but, in fact, it is a performative act, purposeful and strategic. Thus the question of textual history, while helping us toward a comprehensive understanding of the repertoire of charms, sets in relief the more fundamental question of the book’s real-life function, which is the mechanism for the textual change we see in the manuscripts. Ultimately, through studying the textual history of these charms, we are able to approach the anthropology of their creation and use over time, which is an important chapter in the cultural history of Syriac magic. More insights are likely to come as the study of the texts progresses.

Bibliography G. Abousamra, ‘Two Syriac Amulets from Hadath Grotto (Qadisha)’, Parole de l’Orient 38 (2013): 213–230. H. Gollancz, The Book of Protection (London: Oxford University Press, 1912). E. Hunter, ‘Saints in Syriac Anathemas: A Form-Critical Analysis of Role’, Journal of Semitic Studies 32/1 (1987): pp. 83–104. E. Hunter, ‘Traversing Time and Location: A Prayer-Amulet of Mar Tamsis from Turfan’, in Li Tang and Dietmar W. Winkler (eds), From the Oxus River to the Chinese Shores: Studies on East Syriac Christianity in China and Central Asia (Vienna and Berlin: Lit Verlag, 2013), pp. 25–40. A. Lyavdansky, ‘Syriac Charms in Near Eastern Context: Tracing the Origin of Formulas’, in T.A. Mikhailova, J. Roper, A.L. Toporkov, and D.S. Nikolayev (eds), Oral Charms in Structural and Comparative Light: Proceedings of the Conference of the International Society for Folk Narrative Researches (isfnr), Committee on Charms, Charmers and Charming, 27–29 October, Moscow (Moscow, 2011), pp. 15–21. H. Murre-van den Berg, Scribes and Scriptures: The Church of the East in the Eastern Ottoman Provinces (1500–1850) (Leuven: Peeters, 2015).

chapter 8

Syriac Magic and the Contemporary Christian Milieu: Continuity or Discontinuity? Gaby Abousamra

1

Introduction1

In the late Sasanian and early Islamic periods, there is a well-developed magical tradition written in Christian Aramaic dialects. The extant texts were mainly written on earthenware bowls, although some parchment scrolls and metal lamellae have also been preserved. With the exception of the Christian Palestinian Aramaic texts, most stem from southern Mesopotamia and Khuzestan. More recently, from the eighteenth century, one finds the use of paper scrolls and booklets with Syriac incantatory texts among Middle-Eastern Christian communities, especially in the north of Iraq and Iran. In the present study we will discuss the relationship between the two corpora.

2

Syriac Magical Texts from Late Antiquity

2.1 Syriac Amulets Four Syriac amulets inscribed on parchment or leather have been published to date. Three were written for the same client, a certain Xvarr-Veh-zad called Yazdan-zadag daughter of Denak.2 They are referred to by their scribe as 焏‫“ ܩܡܥ‬amulet” (Gignoux i 25;3 Gignoux ii 6 [2×], 47, 49) or ‫ܐ‬狏‫ܝܒ‬狏‫“ ܟ‬writ”

1 Magic bowls numbered T279xxx are published in J.N. Ford, O. Abudraham, ‘Syriac and Mandaic Incantation Bowls’, in D. Regev, H. Hizmi (eds), Finds Gone Astray: adca Confiscated Items (Jerusalem, 2018), pp. 75–111 (75–99). The labels Gignoux i, ii, iii refer to the amulets published by P. Gignoux, Incantations magiques syriaques (Louvain and Paris, 1987). The labels Codex A, B, C refer to the texts published in H. Gollancz, The Book of Protection: Being a Collection of Syriac Charms (London, 1912; reprint Amsterdam, 1976). The abbreviation csib refers to Moriggi’s Corpus (see n. 17). 2 Published in Gignoux, Incantations magiques syriaques. See also P. Gignoux, ‘Éléments de prosopographie de quelques mōbads sasanides’, Journal Asiatique 270 (1982), pp. 257–269. Gignoux dated the amulets to the sixth or seventh centuries ad. 3 Gignoux, Incantations magiques syriaques, i, 3a written ‫ܐ‬焏‫ܩܡ‬.

© Gaby Abousamra, 2022 | doi:10.1163/97890044672

syriac magic and the contemporary christian milieu

183

(Gignoux ii 3 [2×]). They contain long lists of angel names and many references to Christian formulae and allusions to the baptismal rite. The fourth, published by Naveh,4 does not contain any Christian elements. In addition, a Syriac amulet inscribed on a silver lamella is known;5 its Christian affiliation is indicated by a small slightly elongated cross at the beginning. 2.2 Syriac Magic Bowls The Syriac magic bowls are referred to by their scribes as 焏‫“ ܟܣ‬cup, bowl”, 焏‫“ ܩܡܥ‬amulet”, ‫“ ܪܐܙܐ‬mystery” or, sometimes, 焏‫“ ܩܝܒܠ‬countercharm”, 焏‫ܝܒ‬狏‫“ ܟ‬writ”. They are written in two different scripts: Estrangelo and Manichean. The number of published bowls now stands at around sixty.6 Some were undoubtedly prepared by Manichaean practitioners,7 but many show distinctly Christian features.8 In the following, I will discuss the most important of these. 2.3 The Sign of the Cross The most visible Christian iconographic element in the amulets is the cross. It appears in various forms and in different places in the incantation texts: – Inserted in the text as a series of seven crosses, designed usually as the sign + (Gignoux ii 55; csib 3:8; 38:9);9 or in different numbers: one cross (csib 27:6; ms 1928/54:5),10 three crosses (T27986:4–5). – At the end of the text: an amulet ends with a long series of crosses (Gignoux ii 56), a bowl with two crosses (T27989:12), and another bowl with six crosses (T27993:10). – In the center of the bowls11 there are different forms of crosses,12 enclosed by a circle or petal motifs.13 The crosses divide the enclosed space into four 4 5

6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

J. Naveh, ‘A Syriac Amulet on Leather’, Journal of Semitic Studies 42 (1997), pp. 33–38. Originally published by A. Dupont-Sommer, La doctrine gnostique de la lettre “Waw” d’ après une lamelle araméenne inédite (Paris, 1946); republished by J. Naveh, S. Shaked, Amulets and Magic Bowls: Aramaic Incantations of Late Antiquity (Jerusalem, 1985), pp. 62– 69 (Amulet 6). See the contribution by Moriggi in this volume for a detailed analysis of the status quaestionis. See S. Shaked, ‘Manichaean Incantation Bowls in Syriac’, Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 24 (2000), pp. 58–92. It is rare, however, to find unequivocally Christian client names in these bowls. In T27993:10, the space after the end of the text is very faded; but here too we can likely discern seven crosses. Shaked, ‘Manichaean Incantation Bowls in Syriac’, p. 75. Especially the bowls in the Manichaean script, most of which come from Nippur; we find only two bowls with Estrangelo script having a cross (csib 10; csib 28). We can distinguish some crosses whose base arm is longer than the others (csib 6; csib 28; csib 32; T27989). Bowls with petal motifs (csib 10; csib 27; csib 35; csib 42).

184

abousamra

quarters, which often contain various types of marking: dots (csib 2), small crosses (csib 3; csib 4; csib 6; csib 17; csib 23; csib 31; csib 38), or individual letters (csib 40). In many cases, however, each quarter is blank (csib 5; csib 9; csib 10; csib 16;14 csib 27; csib 32; csib 41; csib 42; T27996).15 Designs resembling Maltese crosses can also be adduced (csib 22; csib 28; T27989).16 In csib 30, the text is written in four cartouches approximating the shape of a Maltese cross. Furthermore, in the second cartouche,17 there are three small circles each divided into four segments by a cross. – The word 焏‫“ ܨܠܝܒ‬cross” itself is used to protect people and possessions: 營‫ܬܝܩ‬焏‫ ܕܕܝ‬焏‫ܡ‬煟‫ … ܒ‬焏‫ܡ‬狏‫ ܡܚ‬焏‫ ܙܟܝ‬燿‫ܐ … ܕܨܠܝܒ‬犯‫ܟ‬熏‫ܐ ܒ‬犯‫ ܒ‬燿‫ܡ‬狏‫ܒܚ‬ 燿‫ܬܐ ܕܝܠ‬煟‫“ ܚ‬By your seal, First-Born Son … of your victorious Cross I am sealed … by the blood of your New Covenant” (jnf 218:6–7); ‫ܡ‬狏‫ ܘܡܚ‬爟‫ܝ‬狏‫ܚ‬ 焏‫ ܥܠܡ‬爟‫ܗܪܐ ܠܥܠ‬熏‫ ]ܕ[ܢ‬焏‫ܬܗ ܕܨܠܝܒ‬焏‫ ܘܒ‬爯‫ ܘܐܡܝ‬爯‫ܝ‬焏‫ ܒ‬焏‫ܐ ܗܢ‬狏‫ܒܝ‬ 焏‫ ܕܪܚܡ‬焏‫ ܕܐܣܝ‬煿‫ ܒܫܡ‬煿‫ ܣܠ‬爯‫ ܐܡܝ‬爯‫“ ܐܡܝ‬Sealed and doubly sealed is this house by Yes and Amen, and by the sign of the Cross [of] Light for ever and ever. Amen, Amen, Selah. In the name of the Physician of Mercy” (jnf 223:3–4).18 We find an allusion to the passion of Christ in Gignoux ii:28: ‫“ ܕܡ ܪܙܐ‬the blood of the mystery”.

14

15

16 17

18

Moriggi discerns the circle, but not the cross. Müller-Kessler (quoted by Moriggi) claims there are two crosses and does not mention a circle. See C. Müller-Kessler, Die Zauberschaltentexte in der Hilprecht-Sammlung, Jena, und weitere Nippur-Texte anderer Sammlungen (Wiesbaden, 2005), p. 148. See also the damaged bowl csib 39. Such designs also appear, however, in Jewish bowls where there is no reason to believe that either the practitioner or client was Christian; e.g. cbs 16018 in J.A. Montgomery, Aramaic Incantations texts from Nippur (Philadelphia, 1913), Bowl 19. H. Misgav, ‘Jewish-Aramaic Incantation Bowls’, in D. Regev, H. Hizmi (eds), Finds Gone Astray: adca Confiscated Items (Jerusalem, 2018), pp. 53–72 (71), notes the same design in a Jewish pseudo-script bowl (Bowl n. 10; T 27997). In the center is a circle with eight spokes according to Ford. In my opinion, there are four spokes, slightly curved, making a Maltese cross, whose base arm is longer than the others. Counting with M. Moriggi, A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls: Syriac Magical Texts from Late-Antique Mesopotamia (Leiden, 2014). Segal (no. 119es) considers it to be the fourth cartouche. See J.B. Segal, Catalogue of the Aramaic and Mandaic incantation Bowls in the British Museum (London, 2000). Compare the formula 焏‫ ܕܪܚܡ‬焏‫ ܕܐܣܝ‬煿‫“ ܒܫܡ‬In the name of the Physician of Mercy” with a similar one: 營‫ ܕܪܚܡ‬焏‫ ܪܒ‬焏‫ܐܬܐ ܐܣܝ‬熏‫ܝ ܐܣ‬犯‫ ܡ‬燿‫“ ܒܫܡ‬In your name, Lord of Healings, the great healer of mercy”. T. Fain, J.N. Ford and A. Lyavdansky, ‘Aramaic Incantation Bowls at the State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg’, Babel und Bibel 9 (2016), pp. 289–324 (288–289).

syriac magic and the contemporary christian milieu

185

2.4 The Name of Jesus and His Epithets In the Syriac magic bowls reference is made to several of Jesus’ epithets. – The epithet 焏‫“ ܐܣܝ‬healer” is repeated in various bowls invoking Jesus to heal the client: 焏‫ܥ ܐܣܝ‬熏‫ ܕܝܝܫ‬爏‫“ ܒܚܝ‬by the power of Jesus the healer” (csib 6:2); 焏‫ܥ ܐܣܝ‬熏‫ ܕܝܝܫ‬煿‫ ܘܒܫܡ‬焏‫ܝܫ‬煟‫ ܘܩ‬焏‫ ܘܬܩܝܦ‬焏‫ ܪܒ‬焏‫ܝ‬犯‫ܡ ܡ‬熏‫ܒܫ‬ 焏‫ ܚܝ‬犯‫“ ܒ‬In the name of the great and mighty and holy Lord, and in the name of Jesus the Physician, Son of Life” (jnf 220:15). The epithet 焏‫ܐܣܝ‬ 焏‫ ܚܝ‬焏‫“ ܘܡܣܝܢ‬physician and living healer” (csib 49:1) is easily identified with Jesus, whose hands are “full of mercies and supplied with grace” (ibid., line 3).19 Similarly, in the Book of Protection, one finds 爏‫ ܟ‬焏‫ ܕܡܣ‬焏‫ܐܣܝ‬ ܵ ‫ܢ‬熏ܵ‫ ܡܚ‬爏‫ ܕܟ‬爯‫ܪܗܢܝ‬熏‫ ܟ‬爏‫ ܕܟ‬焏‫ܘܒ‬犏‫ ܥ‬爯‫ܒܝ‬焏‫“ ܵܟ‬the Physician that heals all pains, the Healer of all sicknesses (and) of all wounds” (Codex C:9). This title of Jesus is well known in Christian liturgy.20 Bowl T27989 likewise conܵ ‫ܗ]ܢ‬犯‫ ܟ‬爏‫ ܘܒܛ‬焏‫ܒ‬焏‫ܠ ܟ‬熏‫ ܟ‬焏‫ܣ‬焏‫ܡ‬ tains a reference to Jesus as healer: [焏 “He heals every pain and annuls sickne[sses]” (l. 5). As noted by Ford, the text recalls Matthew 4:23: 爯‫ܒܝ‬焏‫ ܟ‬爏‫ ܘܟ‬爯‫ܪܗܢܝ‬熏‫ ܟ‬爏‫ ܟ‬焏‫ܣ‬焏‫“ ܘܡ‬and He was healing all sicknesses and all pains” (see also Matthew 9:35; 10:1). This association of Jesus with healing was so strong that we even find a reference to “Jesus the healer” in a Jewish bowl (Wolfe 15:5). – Jesus is referred to as 焏‫“ ܡܫܝܚ‬Christ” in csib 27:6; ms 1928/54:5.21 By his power the patient will arise and be helped. Some Jewish bowls (published and unpublished) refer also to Jesus as Christ: in Moussaieff 155:12, we find ‫ܣ‬熏‫ܝܣܛ‬犯‫ ܩ‬狏‫ ܐܣ‬where Levene identified ‫ܣ‬熏‫ܝܣܛ‬犯‫ ܩ‬as “Christ”.22 There are two unpublished parallels where, instead of ‫ܣ‬熏‫ܝܣܛ‬犯‫ ܩ‬狏‫ܐܣ‬, one finds ‫ܣ‬熏‫ܝܣܛ‬犯‫ܣ ܩ‬熏‫“ ܐܣ‬Jesus Christ”. – The epithet 焏‫ܝ‬犯‫“ ܡ‬Lord” is the most important title of Christ in the New Testament and in Christianity. The same epithet is mentioned in Davidovitz 8:1–2: 營‫ܝ‬犯‫ܢ ܬܘܒ ܡܝ‬狏‫ܝ‬犯‫ܥ … ܡ‬熏‫ܢ ܝܫ‬犯‫ ܡ‬燿‫“ ܒܚܝܠ‬By your power, Our Lord Jesus … also Our Lady Miryay (Miriam)”. Here, the mention of Our Lady Mary is remarkable as it is the first time we find it in such documents from this period; it will be abundantly attested in the late Syriac Christian amulets. – The epithet ‫ܐ‬犯‫ܟ‬熏‫ܐ ܒ‬犯‫“ ܒ‬Firstborn Son” appears in a Syriac magic bowl: ‫ܐ‬犯‫ܟ‬熏‫ܐ ܒ‬犯‫ ܒ‬燿‫ܡ‬狏‫“ ܒܚ‬By your seal, Firstborn Son” (jnf 218:6–7). It derives

19 20 21 22

See also G. Abousamra, ‘Coupe de prière syriaque chrétienne’, Parole de l’Orient 35 (2010), pp. 27–38. See G. Abousamra, ‘A Syriac Magic Bowl’, The Harp 25 (2010), pp. 185–200. Shaked, ‘Manichaean Incantation Bowls in Syriac’, p. 75. D. Levene, Jewish Aramaic Curse Texts from Late-Antique Mesopotamia: “May These Curses Go Out and Flee” (Leiden, 2013), p. 115.

186

abousamra

from the use of ‫ܐ‬犯‫ܟ‬熏‫“ ܒ‬first-born” with respect to Jesus in the New Testament (Romans 8:29; Colossians 1:15, 18; Hebrews 1:6).23 – The term 爯‫“ ܐܡܝ‬Amen” appears in csib 2, written on the right side of the chest of a standing human figure drawn parallel to the rim. On the left side is written ‫ܝ‬煟‫ ܫ‬爏‫“ ܐܝ‬El Shaddai”. The figure is dressed in a tunic decorated with a series of magical signs, and he holds what appears to be a palm branch in his right hand. The magic word 爯‫ ܐܡܝ‬frequently serves to close spell units in the Syriac magic bowls, either alone or in the formulaic expression 煿‫ ܣܠ‬爯‫ ܐܡܝ‬爯‫“ ܐܡܝ‬Amen, Amen, Selah”. Here, however, it appears outside the framework of the spell in collocation with the divine epithet ‫ܝ‬煟‫ ܫ‬爏‫ܐܝ‬ “El Shaddai”, and may thus possibly be an allusion to the title of the Christ in Revelation 3:14. 2.5 The Trinitarian Formula The Christian Trinitarian formula, “in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit”, is used repeatedly in these documents at the beginning or at the end of the spell unit: Gignoux ii:1, Gignoux iii:1; csib 2:9; Davidovitz 6:2–4.24 Another different and interesting Trinitarian formula is mentioned in a Jewish Aramaic incantation bowl, which uses the Divine Name instead of “the Father”: ‫“ יהוה יסוס רוח קד‬yhwh, Jesus, Ho(ly) Spirit”.25 2.6 Biblical Quotations The main bowl containing a clear New Testament text is csib 49:4–6, which makes use of Ephesians 6:10–17.26 Some contexts allude to New Testament passages, e.g. ‫ܬܐ ܗܘ‬狏‫ ܐܢ‬煟‫ܠ ܕܝܠܝ‬熏‫“ ܟ‬everyone who is born of a woman” (csib 27:5; ms 1928/54:5) can be compared with the depiction of John the Baptist in Matthew 11:11: 焏‫ܢ‬煟‫ ܡܥܡ‬爯‫ܚܢ‬熏‫ ܝ‬爯‫ ܕܪܒ ܡ‬焏‫ܝ ܢ̈ܫ‬煟‫ ܒ̈ܝܠܝ‬爟‫ ܩ‬焏‫“ ܠ‬among those born of women there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist”.27 The sentence 犯‫ ܢܛ‬焏‫ ܘܠ‬爏‫ ܡܩܒܝ‬焏‫ܗ ܠ‬犯‫ ܡ‬爯‫ܝ‬煟‫ܩ‬熏‫ ܕܦ‬焏‫ܐ ܚܛܝ‬煟‫ ܥܒ‬燿‫“ ܐܝ‬just as the

23 24

25 26 27

For additional examples of ‫ܐ‬犯‫ܟ‬熏‫ܐ ܒ‬犯‫“ ܒ‬Firstborn Son” in early Syriac literature, see Ford, ‘Jesus in the Magic Bowls’. An expanded form of the Trinitarian formula has been appropriated for use in the Jewish Aramaic magic bowl Moussaieff 163:29; see D. Levene, ‘“and by the Name of Jesus” an unpublished Magic Bowl in Jewish Aramaic’, Jewish Studies Quarterly 6 (1999), pp. 283– 308; Levene, Jewish Aramaic Curse Texts, pp. 111–113. T. Harviainen, ‘An Aramaic Incantation Bowl from Borsippa: Another Specimen of Eastern Aramaic “Koiné” ’, in Studia Orientalia 51:14 (Helsinki, 1981), pp. 3–28 (5:13). J.E. Sanzo, N.H. Korsvoll, ‘A New Testament Text on a Syriac Incantation Bowl: Eph. 6:10–17 on ibc 3’, Vigiliae Christianae 71 (2017) pp. 1–16. Shaked, ‘Manichaean Incantation Bowls in Syriac’, p. 75.

syriac magic and the contemporary christian milieu

187

sinful servant who does not accept and does not observe the commands of his master” (csib 14:12) recalls Luke 12:47: ‫ܗ‬犯‫ ܕܡ‬焏‫ܥ ܨܒܝܢ‬煟‫ ܕܝ‬焏‫ ܐܝܢ‬爯‫ܐ ܕܝ‬煟‫ܥܒ‬ ‫ܬܐ‬焏‫ ܣܓܝ‬牟‫ ܢܒܠ‬煿‫ ܨܒܝܢ‬燿‫ ܐܝ‬煿‫ ܠ‬焯‫ ܛܝ‬焏‫“ ܘܠ‬And that servant, who knew his lord’s will, and prepared not himself according to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes”. 2.7 Liturgical Formulae and Doxology The formula 爯‫ ܐܡܝ‬爯‫ ܥܠܡܝ‬爟‫ ܠܥܠ‬焏‫ܡ‬煟‫ ܗܫ ܘܥ‬爯‫“ ܡ‬from now and forever and ever. Amen” (Gignoux i:4a–5a; ii:46; csib 19:5; csib 28:13) is well known in Eastern liturgies in Syriac.28 We also have the expression 爯‫ ܘܐܡܝ‬爯‫“ ܐܝ‬yes and Amen” ending this formula or alone (csib 10:2, 10; csib 26:18; csib 28:13). We find once the word ‫ܐ‬焏‫“ ܝ‬verily” (csib 48:6),29 a liturgical expression that is still used today in the Syriac liturgy. 2.8 Christian Client Names Several names in the magic documents seem to be explicitly Christian (clients or their matronymics). In csib 6, the husband, Mihr-Hormizd, has a Zoroastrian name, but the wife’s matronymic, Baṯ-sāhdē “daughter-of-martyrs” (lines 12, 14), is Christian.30 The masculine equivalent Bar-sāhdā “son-of-amartyr” appears in csib 13:2, 9–10 as the name of a slave of the owner of the bowl. The pn Marcion (csib 45:3a, 2b) recalls the name of the founder of the Christian heresy Marcionism during the second century and is also likely Christian. The name Qyomta “Resurrection” is well attested (csib 14:12; 24:7; 28:3, 6, 7, 11; 31:3, 6, 10, 12); in csib 47, the name Qyoma seems to be the masculine form.31 2.9 Christian Baptism Gignoux discerns a possible reference to baptism in an amulet that mentions oil, water and salt, which are used to this day in Catholic baptismal rites.32 There are also allusions to the seal of the Spirit during the baptism of all the members of the body (i:27–28, 31–33; ii:2), a practice that is continued nowadays in almost all the baptismal rites of the Oriental Christian Churches.

28 29 30 31 32

For similar expressions in Jewish bowls, see A. Manekin-Bamberger, ‘Jewish Legal Formulae in the Aramaic Incantation Bowls’, Aramaic Studies 13 (2015), pp. 69–81 (73–76). See Abousamra, ‘A Syriac Magic Bowl’. See M.J. Geller, ‘Jesus’s Theurgic Powers: Parallels in the Talmud and Incantation Bowls’, Journal of Jewish Studies 28 (1977), pp. 141–155 (149). Compare the use of the name ‫“ قيامة‬Resurrection” in the Syriac Maronite community in Lebanon. Gignoux i:86; see Gignoux, Incantations magiques syriaques, p. 24.

188

abousamra

2.10 The Resurrection Naveh and Shaked noted the reference to the resurrection of Christ in csib 27:4: 焏‫ܝܥ‬熏‫ ܠܝ‬營‫ ܘܙܟ‬狏‫ ܐܩܝܡܝ‬狏‫“ ܡܝ‬A dead man I raised and he granted victory to Yowiʿa”.33 Compare, for example, 煿‫ ܐܩܝܡ‬爯‫ܐ ܕܝ‬煿‫“ ܐܠ‬And God raised him” (Acts 2:24) and ‫ܥ‬熏‫ܢ ܝܫ‬犯‫ ܡ‬煟‫ܬܐ ܒܝ‬熏‫ ܙܟ‬爯‫ܒ ܠ‬煿‫ܐ ܕܝ‬煿‫ܠ‬焏‫ ܠ‬爯‫ ܕܝ‬熏‫ܛܝܒ‬ 焏‫“ ܡܫܝܚ‬But thanks be to God, who gives us victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1Corinthians 15:57). 2.11 Conclusion With the exception of a small number of bowls, the main spell units of the Syriac magic texts from the Sasanian period show considerable similarity to those of other religious traditions and are not distinctively Christian. They tend to mention many of the same divine epithets, angels, demons and illnesses, and use similar formulaic expressions and magical motifs. In not a few cases Jewish Babylonian Aramaic or Mandaic parallels of the entire spell are extant.34 An increasing number of bowls, however, show Christian confessional features in the introductory or closing sections of the text, which indicate that the practitioner who prepared the incantation was Christian, whatever the origin of the main spell.35 In the following section we shall discuss the extent to which the tradition represented by the Syriac magic bowls and amulets was incorporated into the Syriac magical texts of the Modern Period.

3

Syriac Magical Texts from the Modern Period

3.1 History This corpus is comprised of numerous rolled paper amulets and magical booklets dating from the eighteenth century, belonging to various Middle Eastern Christian communities and written in various scripts. They were originally prepared in Turkey, Iraq, and Northwestern Iran, but were later brought by immigrants or refugees to countries such as Georgia, Armenia and Russia.36 These 33 34 35

36

J. Naveh, S. Shaked, Magic Spells and Formulae: Aramaic Incantations of Late Antiquity (Jerusalem, 1993), pp. 120–121. See, for example, C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Aramäische Koine—Ein Beschwörungsformular aus Mesopotamien’, Baghdader Mitteilungen 29 (1998), pp. 331–348. See T. Harviainen ‘Pagan Incantations in Aramaic Incantation Bowls’, in M.J. Geller, J.C. Greenfield, M.P. Weitzman (eds), Studia Aramaica (Oxford, 1995), pp. 53–60 (60); T. Harviainen, ‘Syncretistic and confessional features in Mesopotamian incantation bowls’, in Studia Orientalia 70 (1993), pp. 29–37. For the Assyrian migration to these countries, see H. Teule, G. Kessel, ‘The Mikhail Sado

syriac magic and the contemporary christian milieu

189

amulets are referred to as 焏‫ܡ‬犯‫“ ܚ‬anathema”, ‫ܙܐ‬犯‫“ ܚ‬protection”, ‫ܕܐ‬熏‫“ ܝ‬amulet” or ‫ܬܐ‬熏‫ܝܒ‬狏‫“ ܟ‬writ”. One amulet scroll or booklet can contain a considerable number of prayers or anathemas. The first text of this type was published by Willis Hazard in 1893.37 Four years later Hermann Gollancz presented two manuscripts at the international congress of orientalists in Paris,38 and in 1912 he published three whole manuscripts (codices), each one containing numerous spells.39 Other amulets have since been published.40 The oldest known manuscript dates to 1714 (St. Petersburg, private Collection).41 3.2 Healing and Exorcism in Christianity Healing and exorcism were an important part of Jesus’ ministry as depicted in the Gospels (e.g. Matthew 4:23–24, 9:35, 14:14; Mark 1:32–34, 39, 3:10–11, 6:5; Luke 6:18–19, 7:21).42 The Peshiṭta translates Greek θεραπευω “to heal” with the verb 營‫ܐܣ‬, which is also used in the incantation bowls and in late Christian amu-

37 38 39 40

41 42

collection of Syriac manuscripts in St. Petersburg’, in J.P. Monferrer-Sala, H. Teule, S. Torallas (eds), Eastern Christians and their written heritage (Leuven, 2012), pp. 43–76 (44–47). W.H. Hazard, ‘A Syriac Charm’, Journal of the American Oriental Society 15 (1893), pp. 284– 296. H. Gollancz, ‘A Selection of Charms from Syriac Manuscripts’ in Actes du onzième congrès international des orientalistes 1897 (London, 1898), pp. 77–97 (78–97). Gollancz, The Book of Protection. See, for example, F. Nau, Conjuration de Nestorius contre les migraines (Paris, 1917), p. 317; M. Goshen-Gottstein, Syriac Manuscripts in the Harvard College library: A Catalogue (Missoula, 1979), pp. 104–105 (syr. 158 and syr. 165); E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Saints in Syriac Anathemas: A Form-Critical Analysis of Role’, Journal of Semitic Studies 32 (1987), pp. 83–104; Eadem, An Amulet for the Binding of Guns, Spears, Swords, Daggers and all Implements of War (Oxford, 1992); Eadem, ‘A scroll Amulet from Kurdistan’, Aram 5 (1993), pp. 243–254; Eadem, ‘Another Scroll Amulet from Kurdistan’, in G.J. Reinink, A.C. Klugkist (eds), After Bardaisan. Studies on Continuity and Change in Syriac Christianity in Honour of H.J.W. Drijvers (Leuven, 1999), pp. 161–171; Eadem, ‘Traversing Time and Location: A PrayerAmulet of Mar Tamsis from Turfan’, in L. Tang, D.W. Winkler (eds), From the Oxus River to the Chinese Shores: Studies on East Syriac Christianity in China and Central Asia (Münster, 2013), pp. 25–41; Eadem, ‘Two Codex Handbooks of Amulets: Mingana ms syr 316 and Rylands ms syr 52’, in S.H. Griffith, S. Grebenstein (eds), Christsein in der islamischen Welt: Festschrift für Martin Tamcke zum 60. Geburtstag (Wiesbaden, 2015), pp. 423–437; G. Abousamra, ‘Two Syriac Amulets from Hadath grotto (Qadisha)’, Parole de l’Orient 38 (2013), pp. 213–230; A. Schmidt, G. Abousamra, ‘Une amulette syriaque dans la collection du Matenadaran à Yerevan (rouleau 9–90)’, The Harp 29 (2014), pp. 143–164. For a full list of both published and unpublished Syriac amulets, see the contribution by Zellmann-Rohrer in this volume. There are fragments of medieval amulets from Turfan; see E.C.D. Hunter, M. Dickens, Syriac Texts from The Berlin Turfan Collection (Stuttgart, 2014). Ford, ‘Jesus in the Magic Bowls’.

190

abousamra

lets. Jesus heals the sick and exorcises demons. He also ordered his disciples and gave them power to do the same (Matthew 10:1; Mark 3:15, 6:7, 13, 16:17–18; Luke 9:1–2). This command was performed explicitly in his name (Luke 10:17– 20; Acts 3:6–8, 16, 5:16, 8:7, 9:34, 14:8–10, 28:8–9). This exorcistic tradition has continued as part of official Church practice within most Christian churches to this day. In addition, it has influenced informal and popular practice of magic and amulet charms amongst Christian communities. An important witness to the popular use of amulets by Christians in late antiquity is a memrā attributed to Saint Isḥaq of Antioch (late fifth century ad).43 The author condemns the magical practices and the use of amulets, which he describes as common in the daily life of priests, deacons and the laity: 爯‫ ܘܗܐ ܪܗܛܝ‬焏‫ ܫܡܝܢ‬焏‫ ܐܣܝ‬煿ܿ‫ ܒ‬狏‫ܐ ܕܐܝ‬狏‫ܝܡܢ‬煿‫ܬܐ ܡ‬煟‫ܿܗ ܠܥ‬熏‫ܫܒܩ‬ ܵ ܵ 焏‫ ܨܠܝܒ‬牯‫ ܘܚܠ‬焏‫ܵܫ‬犯‫ܐ ܕܚ‬狏‫ܵܚܫ‬熏‫ ܗܐ ܠ‬焏‫ܝܵܫ‬煟‫ܐ ܕܩ‬狏‫ܪܟ‬熏‫ ܒ‬牯‫ … ܚܠ‬焏‫ܫ‬犯‫ ܚ‬狏‫ܠܒܝ‬ 爯‫ܕܐ ܛܥܝܢܝ‬焏ܵ‫ ܕܫ‬焏‫ܵܒ‬狏‫ ܗܐ ܟ‬焏‫ܝܫ‬煟‫“ ܩ‬They left the faithful Church in which is the heavenly Healer, and they run to the house of the sorcerers. … In place of the benedictions of the saints, the incantations of sorcerers, and instead of the Holy Cross, they bear the writings of demons” (39–42; 47–50). People were bearing these amulets on their heads and necks: 爏‫ ܥ‬煿‫ ܠ‬爯‫ ܛܥܝ‬焏‫ܗܢ‬ 煿‫ܠ‬煟‫ܒ ܒܩ‬熏‫ ܛ‬焏‫ܢ‬犯‫ ܘܐܚ‬煿‫“ ܪܝܫ‬This one bears it on his head and another also on his neck” (63–64).44 From the late sixteenth century we have the eyewitness report of Dandini concerning the use of amulets by Maronites: “… a large number of superstitious bills which they wear over them, especially children”.45 In the mid-nineteenth century, Badger wrote about Kurdistan as follows: “The Nestorians entertain many superstitions respecting the power of evil, and the value of certain talismans to allay or counteract them”.46 The use of amulets in the nineteenth century by Lebanese Christians is attested to by such documents as a printed Karshuni paper signed by the Maronite patriarch Paul Masʿad (1854–1890)47 and another from 1872 signed by the patri-

43

44

45 46 47

See M. Moriggi, ‘ “And the Impure and Abominable Priests Fled for Help to the Names of the Devils”: Amulets and Magical Practices in Syriac Christian Culture between Late Antiquity and the Modern World’, Hugoye: Journal of Syriac Studies 19 (2016), pp. 371– 384. Archaeological evidence for the use of amulets on the head is provided by a burial tomb in ʿAinturin (north Lebanon), where a skullcap was found on which was sewn a small pocket containing a folded amulet; see H. Salamé-Sarkis, ‘Une amulette maronite signée et diffusée par le Patriarche Boulos Masʿad’, Mélanges de l’Université Saint-Joseph 51 (1990), pp. 313–325 (313). J. Dandini, Voyage du Mont-Liban (Paris, 1884), p. 127. G.P. Badger, The Nestorians and their Rituals (London, 1852), i, p. 238. Salamé-Sarkis, ‘Une amulette maronite’, pp. 315–317.

syriac magic and the contemporary christian milieu

191

arch Elias Howayek (1899–1931). Today many Lebanese Christians protect their children with an amulet, known as Kitab Mar Antonius “Writ of Saint Antonius”.48 3.3 The Structure of the Magical Booklets and Amulets The contents of the magical booklets usually have the following structure: opening formula, the Lord’s prayer, the prayer of Adam, the prayer of the holy angels, the anathema of the Gospel (usually the prologue of the Gospel of John), followed by a long list of prayers and anathemas for different forms of protection, illnesses, exorcisms, for cattle, possessions and all kind of affairs. The booklets usually comprise a sort of “catalogue” of prayers and anathemas from which the scribe chooses to write a specific amulet for a client.49 They also contain some simple illustrations and finish with a colophon mentioning the scribe, who usually belongs to a priestly family. The form of the individual amulets, on the other hand, is stereotypic. They begin with a title, “Anathema (焏‫ܡ‬犯‫ )ܚ‬of Saint So-and-So” and a reference to the various illnesses and demons that it is meant to treat. The text then opens with the Trinitarian formula: 焏‫ܕܫ‬熏‫ ܕܩ‬焏‫ܐ ܘܪܘܚ‬犯‫ ܘܒ‬焏‫ ܐܒ‬爟‫“ ܒܫ‬in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit”, followed by the prayer of a Saint and his titles. Then it continues with prayers and invocations to the Lord to heal the client from all sort of illnesses by the intercession of the Saint. It ends with a doxology, the Trinitarian formula or a formula such as “by the prayer of holy Mary and the prayer of Saint John the Baptist …”. Sometimes there are also colophons or illustrations.50

4

Continuity or Discontinuity?

Over a millennium separates modern Syriac magical documents from their late antique precursors. Virtually no Syriac incantatory text or amulet from Mesopotamia, the birthplace of this genre, is extant from the intervening period. Two amulets from the Qadisha Valley (Lebanon), however, have recently been discovered. They likely date to before the year 1283, the date of the collapse of

48 49

50

See Abousamra, ‘Two Syriac Amulets from Hadath grotto (Qadisha)’, pp. 214, 227. Similar booklets are known from other Oriental magical traditions; see, for example, M. Baillet, ‘Un livret magique en christo-palestinien à l’université de Louvain’, Le Muséon 76 (1963), pp. 375–401. For more details about the structure of amulets, see the contributions of Calabro and Zellmann-Rohrer in this volume.

192

abousamra

the cave-refuge in the village of Ḥadath as a result of the Mamluk incursion.51 These two folded papers form a “bridge” between the two corpora and contain features which exist in both traditions, including the use of an opening formula and Trinitarian invocation, and the use of the verbs “to seal”, “to bind”, “to expel”, “to ban”, and “to swear” against evil spirits. Qadisha1 is written in Estrangelo script, and is similar in style and content to the magic bowls and amulets from the Sasanian period. Qadisha2 is written in Serto script, and contains the spell ‫ܥ‬熏‫ܝܫ‬煟‫ܝ ܥܒ‬犯‫ ܕܡ‬焏‫ܡ‬犯‫“ ܚ‬Hermo of Mar Abdyeshuʿ”. It is very similar to many modern amulets that also refer to this saint. The Christian features in the amulets and magic bowls from late antiquity are limited and elementary, but in the modern handbooks and rolled amulets they are frequent and more developed. The Qadisha amulets indicate that the “Christianization” of Syriac magic had already begun by that time. 4.1 Parallel Features and Motifs Many motifs and formulas in the modern Syriac incantations can be traced back to late antiquity, not just to the Syriac amulets and magic bowls, but also to Jewish Aramaic and Mandaic texts as well. Below I shall discuss a number of these, primarily using the three codices of “the Book of Protection” published by Gollancz as the basis for comparison. 4.1.1 Lists of Various Types of Evil Spirits Modern Syriac amulets contain many such lists, e.g. “I bind and anathematize and overthrow and make distant and cast down all pains, evil, accursed and misleading sicknesses, and satans, rebellious dēvs, demon(s). And also the spirit of lunacy, the spirit of the belly, the spirit of the heart, the spirit of the head, the spirit of the eyes, malady of the belly, the spirit of the teeth. And also the evil and envious eye, the eye that smites and does not pity, blue eyes, every type of (evil) eye … And also cold and hot fever, frightful visions and deceiving dreams that occur at night and during the day. And also lilith, the companion spirit, and Zardukh, the … dēv, and all pains and evil sicknesses, and dēvs, and knots of witchcraft” (Codex C, § 1). The same occurs in the late antique bowls, e.g. “and the mystery of this house—I shall pronounce it upon all that are in it: upon demons, and upon dēvs, and upon witchcraft, and upon (magical) practi[ces], and upon all messengers of idolatry, and upon

51

See Abousamra, ‘Two Syriac Amulets from Hadath grotto (Qadisha)’. I refer to them as Qadisha1 and Qadisha2.

syriac magic and the contemporary christian milieu

193

all troops, and upon amulet-spirits, and upon goddesses, and upon all powerful demons, and upon all powerful satans, and upon all powerful liliths” (csib 23:4–6). 4.1.2 Use of Common Verbs for Binding and Expelling Evil Spirits The binding of evil spirits is common to both the modern Syriac amulets and the ancient amulets and magic bowls. For example: ‫ܘܢ‬煿‫ ܘܪܓܠܝ‬焏‫ܢ‬犯‫ܐܣ‬ ‫ܘܢ‬煿‫̈ܝ‬煟‫“ ܐܝ‬I bind their hands and feet” (Codex A, § 48) and ‫ܿܗ‬煟‫ܝ‬焏‫ … ܒ‬犯‫ܣ‬狏‫ܬܝ‬ 狏‫ܘܟ‬煟‫ܝ‬焏‫ ܠܡ‬煿ܿ‫ܘܒ ܠ‬犯‫ ܬܩ‬焏‫ ܕܠ‬煿ܿ‫ܓܠ‬犯‫“ ܘܒ‬may she be bound … by her hands and by her feet so that she may not approach Mayduxt” (csib 7:11).52 Often, multiple verbs, which are common to both corpora, are used. Compare, for example, the use of the verbs 犯‫“ ܐܣ‬to bind” and ‫ܡ‬犯‫“ ܚ‬to anathematise”, in both Codex B, § 5, and csib 32:2–3. 4.1.3 Use of Biblical Verses Biblical verses are commonly quoted in the Jewish magic bowls, including a number of verses from Psalms 91 and 121.53 These Psalms are also quoted in the modern Syriac amulets. See, for example, Codex A, § 9 (Psalm 91:5). 4.1.4 Historiolae and References to Exemplary Figures The figures of Daniel and his three friends occupy an important place in the Book of Protection, for example, “Just as you were with Joseph in the Land of Egypt, and with Daniel in the lions’ den, and with the house of Hananiah in the fiery furnace, and with Jeremiah in the pit of mire, so (may you be) with this your servant” (Codex A, §32); and “Just as the children of Israel went forth to the wilderness by the hand of Moses, just as Adam went forth from the Garden, Jonah ⟨…⟩, Daniel from the pit, Hananiah from the fiery furnace, Noah from the ark, so too, vermin, go forth from this wheat!” (Codex C, § 6). Daniel and his friends are similarly mentioned in an unpublished Syriac bowl, which reads “and I was not ashamed, for I considered Daniel and Hananiah and Azariah and

52

53

For the illustration of this technique in the magic bowls, see N. Vilozny, Lilith’s Hair and Ashmedai’s Horns. Figure and Image in Magic and Popular Art: Between Babylonia and Palestine in Late Antiquity (in Hebrew; Jerusalem, 2017), pp. 59–64, 151–160. See P.T. Lanfer, ‘Why Biblical Scholars Should Study Aramaic Bowl Spells’, Aramaic Studies 13 (2015), pp. 9–23 (17–18); D.M. Salzer, Die Magie der Anspielung (Tübingen, 2010), pp. 117– 119, 123–125. For the language of these quotations, see also the recent study by D. Molin, ‘Biblical Quotations in the Aramaic Incantation Bowls and Their Contribution to the Study of the Babylonian Reading Tradition’, in A.D. Hornkohl, G. Khan (eds), Studies in Semitic Vocalisation and Reading Traditions (Cambridge, 2020) pp. 147–170.

194

abousamra

Mishael”.54 Qadisha 1:2–3 provides a link between the two corpora, reading “By the na[mes of Hananiah] and Azariah and Mishael and Daniel of the pit”. Moses and the parting of the Red Sea is another biblical theme attested in both the modern Syriac amulets and Syriac magic bowls, for example, “just as God loved Moses and divided the Red Sea before him” (Codex A, § 40) and “as Moses said to the Red Sea and (the waters) stood like a wall on both sides” (csib 6:4). Another popular theme is the signet-ring of Solomon, for example, “By the staff of Moses the prophet and by the signet-ring of Solomon” (Codex A, § 35). References to the signet-ring of Solomon are particularly well attested in the Jewish magic bowls, but also appear in the Syriac bowls, for example “Bound and sealed by the signet-ring by which are sealed heaven and earth, and by the seal by which Noah sealed his ark, and by the signet-ring of Solomon by which are sealed the demons and the dēvs” (csib 28:10–11).55 Divine Epithets 4.1.5 A number of divine epithets in the modern Syriac amulets are also attested in the ancient magic bowls, for example, “the Living God” in Codex C, § 9 and csib 28:12. The same epithet appears in Qadisha1:1. Some of the epithets in the modern Syriac amulets ultimately derive from Biblical Hebrew, for example, “in the name of I Am That I Am, El Shaddai, Adonai, the Lord of Hosts” (Codex A, § 5; compare §10) and, in the magic bowls, “Adonai Sabaothi, El Shaddai” (e.g. ms 2055/19:12) and “I Am That I Am” (e.g. va 3383:8–9).56 4.1.6 Invocation of Angels Again, this feature is common to both corpora, for example, “In the name of Gabriel and Michael” (Codex A, §13) and “In the name of Michael the healer and Raphael the deliverer and Gabriel the servant of Adonai” (csib 6:6–7). The lists of angels can be lengthy, for example, “In the name of Gabril, Michail, ʿArail. In the name of Michail, and ʿAzril, Šamšail, Ḥaršail, Sarfail, and Nurail … In the name of Šamšel, Ṣuṣaniel, Šmail, Ḥinail, Zadiqail, Pruquil, and Sahrail, and Zaqail, Dinail, ʿAšinail, Taqifail, the mighty Ganbaril, Šamšail and Sahrail, and Maqail, Yomail, Kokhevail, Šufail, Maryail, Mhalelail, and Zaṭrail, ʾUmyail, Ḥašḥašail, Ṭaryail, ʿAzizail, Manail, Samyail” (Codex C, § 3).

54 55 56

Abousamra, ‘Two Syriac Amulets from Hadath grotto (Qadisha)’, p. 217. See also csib 6:8; T27986, 3–4; Ford, Abudraham, ‘Syriac and Mandaic Incantation Bowls’, p. 86. See J.N. Ford, M. Morgenstern, Aramaic Incantation Bowls in Museum Collections, Vol. 1: The Frau Professor Hilprecht Collection of Babylonian Antiquities, Jena (Leiden, 2020), pp. 78 and 75.

syriac magic and the contemporary christian milieu

195

4.1.7 Protection by Angels on All Sides Closely related to the invocation of angels, this is a common motif, for example, “Gabriel is on his right and Michael on his left, I Am That I Am, El Shaddai, Adonai is above his head, the Cherubim are in front of him, and the Seraphim are behind him” (Codex A, §7; compare §8). As discussed by Levene, Marx and Bhayro, it is widespread in Jewish magic (including the magic bowls) and also appears in several Syriac bowls of Manichaean origin, for example, “Sealed with it are four angels: Az(az)el before it, Azir behind it, Michael on its right, Raphael on its left. Over it is invoked the name of Ḥarbiel Mani” (ms 2055/24:9– 13).57 Binding and Exorcism by the Holy Cross 4.1.8 This is a common motif in modern Christian amulets, for example, “I bind them by the living Sign of the Cross of our Lord” (Codex A, § 47). Similar references to the cross may be adduced from two unpublished bowls: “By your seal, FirstBorn Son … of your victorious Cross I am sealed” (jnf 218:6–7); “Sealed and doubly sealed is this house by Yes and Amen, and by the sign of the Cross [of] Light for ever and ever” (jnf 223:3–4). 4.1.9 Appeals for the Protection of Family Members and Property Such appeals are ubiquitous in both corpora, for example, “May the multiple danger be annulled from off the flocks, from the cattle, and from the house of him who bears these writs” (Codex A, §5) and “I bind and anathematize and overthrow and make distant and cast down all pains … and all pains, evil illnesses, and dēvs (and) knots of witchcraft from the body, from the soul, from the house, from the sons, from the daughters of the one who bears this amulet” (Codex C, §1). Compare, for example, “Bound and sealed is all the evil that is in the body of M. son of M., and in his house, his wife, and his sons, and his daughters, and his cattle, and in all his dwelling” (csib 6:8) and “protection of her house, her husband, her sons and her daughters and her property” (csib 2:3–4). 4.1.10 Appeals Relating to Childbirth and the Survival of Progeny Similarly, such appeals are common to both corpora, for example, “Then my Lady Mary asked … for barren women, that they may give birth: by your might, O Lord, may those who are giving birth give birth to sons of blessings and to

57

D. Levene, D. Marx, S. Bhayro, ‘ “Gabriel is on their Right”: Angelic Protection in Jewish Magic and Babylonian Lore’, Studia Mesopotamica 1 (2014), pp. 185–198.

196

abousamra

daughters of righteousness, and may the barren women conceive” (Codex B, § 6) and “so that the sons may live for their mothers and the beloved children for their fathers” (csib 8:6). 4.1.11 Demons and Illnesses Many of the maleficent forces named in modern Syriac amulets have antecedents in ancient magic bowls and amulets, for example, ‫ܐ‬狏‫ ܒܝܫ‬焏‫“ ܪܘܚ‬evil spirit” (e.g. Codex A, §46; csib 22:11) and‫ܐ‬狏‫ ܒܝܫ‬焏‫“ ܥܝܢ‬evil eye” (e.g. Codex A, § 23; csib 16:12). The maleficent force ‫ܐ‬狏‫“ ܨܠܚ‬migraine” (e.g. Codex A, § 13) is, to the best of our knowledge, not yet attested in the ancient bowls or amulets, but it does occur in the Jewish magic bowls.58 In modern Syriac amulets one finds a demoness referred to by such epithets as ‫ܐ‬狏‫ܩ‬熏‫ܐ ܚܢ‬狏‫“ ܠܠܝ‬Lilith the strangler” or 焏‫ܐ ܘܐܡ‬狏‫ܝ‬熏‫ܐ ܘܡܠ‬狏‫ܠܠܝ‬ 焏‫ܐ ܕ̈ܛܠܝ‬狏‫ܩ‬熏‫“ ܚܢ‬Lilith and the companion spirit and the mother, strangler of children” (Codex B, §7).59 As her name suggests, she is a lilith who kills young children. In the Syriac magic bowls, the corresponding epithet is ‫ܐ‬狏‫ܚܢܩܝ‬ “strangler”, which is used in the following example: “may they be protected from demons and dēvs and spirits and lilith and the companion spirit and the strangler” (ms 2055/22:14–18). The corresponding epithet ‫ חנקיתא‬is attested in Jewish Aramaic bowls, for example: ‫הדין צילמה דרוח לוטתא ודמחיתא בישתא ודעינא בישתא‬ ‫“ ודזכיה ודחנקיתא‬this is the image of a curse spirit, and of the evil smiter, and of the evil eye, and of zkyʾ, and of the strangler” (hs 3005:1–4).60 Maladies and Witchcraft Associated with Various Ethnic Groups 4.1.12 We find such references in both Syriac magic bowls and modern amulets, for example: “the sorcery of the east and of the west, of the north and of the south, of Jews and of Aramaeans, of men and of women” (csib 38:3–4);61 and “Arab [witchcraft], Persian witchcraft … Jewish [witchcraft] … Qadišian witchcraft … Indian witchcraft … Kaškarian [witchcraft]” (T27983:10–15).62 Compare, in amulet Sado, folio 20, “and fever (and) shivering, and the hot and cold one, and the tertiary one, and the Jewish one, and the Indian one, and the Alanian one, 58

59 60 61 62

For example, in va.2418:2; see S. Bhayro, J.N. Ford, D. Levene, O. Paz-Saar, Aramaic Magic Bowls in the Vorderasiatisches Museum in Berlin, Descriptive List and Edition of Selected Texts (Leiden, 2018), p. 24. See Hazard, ‘A Syriac Charm’, p. 287 and Codex B, § 7. See Ford, Morgenstern, Aramaic Incantation Bowls in Museum Collections, Vol. 1: The Frau Professor Hilprecht Collection, p. 19. See also jnf 296:5–6; J.N. Ford, ‘A New Parallel to the Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Incantation Bowl im 76106 (Nippur 11 N 78)’, Aramaic Studies 9 (2011), pp. 249–277 (251). Ford, Abudraham, ‘Syriac and Mandaic Incantation Bowls’, pp. 77–78.

syriac magic and the contemporary christian milieu

197

and the barbarian one, and the Arab one, and the Scythian one, and the … one, and the Armenian one, and every type of fever”.63 4.1.13

Evil Spirits Drinking the Blood and Eating the Flesh of Their Victims This is a widespread motif that also appears in the Book of Protection, for example, “We go on our hands so that we may eat flesh, and we crawl along upon our hands so that we may drink blood” (Codex B, § 10). It also occurs in csib 26:14, which reads, “and she drinks blood, the bones and water of many men”.64 4.2 Conclusion The similarities in the contents of the magic texts lead us to propose a possible historical connection between the late antique and modern documents. In spite of the lack of intervening sources, with the exception of Qadisha amulets, it seems clear that they share many formulas and motifs. This evidence allows us to suggest a continuity in the popular magic tradition practiced in the same area. In terms of continuity, the following three features appear to be the most significant. – Documents from the Sasanian period use the basmalah, thus: “In the name of the great Life” (Mandaeans), “In your name I act” (Jews), “in the name of the Living God” and “in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit” (Christians). The last formula is more repeated and developed in the modern Syriac amulets. – The main aim in both corpora is to protect people and possessions from various kinds of evil spirits and illnesses, by invoking divine beings to protect them. – In both corpora, one finds important masters or patrons who are invoked or who wrote charm texts for their pious flocks on bowls or amulets, for example Rabbis Joshua bar Peraḥya and Ḥanina ben Dosa in the Jewish tradition, and Mar ʿAbdyeshuʿ and Mar Tamasis in the Christian tradition.65

63 64

65

To be published by Schmidt and Abousamra. Moriggi compares the Jewish Aramaic bowl im 2929:6; see A.H. Faraj, ‘Aramaico orientale e coppe magiche mesopotamiche: riflessioni e definizioni’, Mesopotamia 42 (2007), pp. 269– 275 (272): “we go to eat meat without knives, to drink blood without knives”. For the relationship between this text and the Ugaritic incantation against the evil eye, rs 22.225 (ktu 1.96), see J.N. Ford, ‘The Ugaritic Evil Eye Incantation rs 22.225 (ktu3 1.96) in the Light of the Aramaic Magic Bowls’. E.g. Hazard, ‘A Syriac Charm’, pp. 293, 286.

198

abousamra

Acknowledgements I would like to express my gratitude to Professor James Nathan Ford for reading and commenting on earlier drafts of this article. Unpublished magic bowls labeled jnf, Davidovitz and Wolfe are quoted from Ford’s presentation “ ‘Jesus the Physician” (‫ )יישוע אסיא‬in the Jewish Magic Bowls’, European Association for Jewish Studies Congress (Paris, 21 July 2014; unpublished); I am grateful for his permission to quote from his forthcoming article ‘Jesus in the Magic Bowls’ (provisional title).

Bibliography G. Abousamra, ‘A Syriac Magic Bowl’, The Harp 25 (2010), pp. 185–200. G. Abousamra, ‘Coupe de prière syriaque chrétienne’, Parole de l’Orient 35 (2010), pp. 27–38. G. Abousamra, ‘Two Syriac Amulets from Hadath grotto (Qadisha)’, Parole de l’Orient 38 (2013), pp. 213–230. G. Abousamra, ‘A New Manichean Incantation Bowl’, in C.B. Horn, S.H. Griffith (eds), Biblical & Qurʾānic Traditions in the Middle East (Warwick, 2016), pp. 239–250. Y. Avishur, ‘“‫ ”אהיה אשר אהיה‬in Arabic, Syriac and Judeo-Arabic’, Lĕšonénu 55 (1990), pp. 13–16 [Hebrew]. G.P. Badger, The Nestorians and their Rituals (London, 1852). M. Baillet, ‘Un livret magique en christo-palestinien à l’université de Louvain’, Le Muséon 76 (1963), pp. 375–401. S. Bhayro, J.N. Ford, D. Levene, O. Paz-Saar, Aramaic Magic Bowls in the Vorderasiatisches Museum in Berlin, Descriptive List and Edition of Selected Texts (Leiden, 2018). J. Dandini, Voyage du Mont-Liban (Paris, 1884). A. Dupont-Sommer, La doctrine gnostique de la lettre “Waw” d’après une lamelle araméenne inédite (Paris, 1946). T. Fain, J.N. Ford, A. Lyavdansky, ‘Aramaic Incantation Bowls at the State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg’, Babel und Bibel 9 (2016), pp. 289–324. A.H. Faraj, ‘Aramaico orientale e coppe magiche mesopotamiche: riflessioni e definizioni’, Mesopotamia 42 (2007), pp. 269–275. J.N. Ford, ‘A New Parallel to the Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Incantation Bowl im 76106 (Nippur 11 N 78)’, Aramaic Studies 9 (2011), pp. 249–277. J.N. Ford, ‘Jesus in the Magic Bowls’ (forthcoming). J.N. Ford, ‘The Ugaritic Evil Eye Incantation rs 22.225 (ktu3 1.96) in the Light of the Aramaic Magic Bowls’ (forthcoming). J.N. Ford, O. Abudraham, ‘Syriac and Mandaic Incantation Bowls’ in D. Regev, H. Hizmi (eds), Finds Gone Astray: adca Confiscated Items (Jerusalem, 2018), pp. 75–111.

syriac magic and the contemporary christian milieu

199

J.N. Ford, M. Morgenstern, Aramaic Incantation Bowls in Museum Collections, Vol. 1: The Frau Professor Hilprecht Collection of Babylonian Antiquities, Jena (Leiden, 2020). M.J. Geller, ‘“Jesus” Theurgic Powers: Parallels in the Talmud and Incantation Bowls’, Journal of Jewish Studies 28 (1977), pp. 141–155. P. Gignoux, ‘Éléments de prosopographie de quelques mōbads sasanides’, Journal Asiatique 270 (1982), pp. 257–269. P. Gignoux, Incantations magiques syriaques (Leuven and Paris, 1987). H. Gollancz, ‘A Selection of Charms from Syriac Manuscripts’ in Actes du onzième congrès international des orientalistes 1897 (London, 1898), pp. 77–97. H. Gollancz, The Book of Protection: Being a Collection of Syriac Charms (London, 1912; reprint Amsterdam, 1976). M. Goshen-Gottstein, Syriac Manuscripts in the Harvard College library: A Catalogue (Missoula, 1979). T. Harviainen, ‘An Aramaic Incantation Bowl from Borsippa: Another Specimen of Eastern Aramaic “Koiné”’, Studia Orientalia 51 (1981), pp. 3–28. T. Harviainen, ‘Syncretistic and confessional features in Mesopotamian incantation bowls’, Studia Orientalia 70 (1993), pp. 29–37. T. Harviainen, ‘Pagan Incantations in Aramaic Incantation Bowls’, in M.J. Geller, J.C. Greenfield, M.P. Weitzman (eds), Studia Aramaica (Oxford, 1995), pp. 53–60. W.H. Hazard, ‘A Syriac Charm’, Journal of the American Oriental Society 15 (1893), pp. 284–296. E.C.D. Hunter, M. Dickens, Syriac Texts from The Berlin Turfan Collection (Stuttgart, 2014). E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Saints in Syriac Anathemas: A Form-Critical Analysis of Role’, Journal of Semitic Studies 32 (1987), pp. 83–104. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Genres of Syriac Amulets: A Study of Cambridge Ms. syr. 3086’, in R. Lavenant (ed.), v Symposium Syriacum (Roma, 1990) pp. 355–368. E.C.D. Hunter, An Amulet for the Binding of Guns, Spears, Swords, Daggers and all Implements of War (Oxford, 1992). E.C.D. Hunter, ‘A scroll Amulet from Kurdistan’, Aram 5 (1993), pp. 243–254. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Another Scroll Amulet from Kurdistan’, in G.J. Reinink, A.C. Klugkist (eds), After Bardaisan. Studies on Continuity and Change in Syriac Christianity in Honour of H.J.W. Drijvers (Leuven, 1999), pp. 161–171. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Traversing Time and Location: A Prayer-Amulet of Mar Tamsis from Turfan’, in L. Tang, D.W. Winkler (eds), From the Oxus River to the Chinese Shores: Studies on East Syriac Christianity in China and Central Asia (Münster, 2013), pp. 25– 41. E.C.D. Hunter, ‘Two Codex Handbooks of Amulets: Mingana ms syr 316 and Rylands ms syr 52’, in S.H. Griffith, S. Grebenstein, Christsein in der islamischen Welt: Festschrift für Martin Tamcke zum 60. Geburtstag (Wiesbaden, 2015), pp. 423–437.

200

abousamra

P.T. Lanfer, ‘Why Biblical Scholars Should Study Aramaic Bowl Spells’, Aramaic Studies 13 (2015), pp. 9–23. D. Levene, ‘“and by the Name of Jesus” an unpublished Magic Bowl in Jewish Aramaic’, Jewish Studies Quarterly 6 (1999), pp. 283–308. D. Levene, A Corpus of Magic Bowls: Incantation Texts in Jewish Aramaic from Late Antiquity (London-New York-Bahrain, 2003). D. Levene, Jewish Aramaic Curse Texts from Late-Antique Mesopotamia: “May Theses Curses Go Out and Flee” (Leiden, 2013). D. Levene, D. Marx, S. Bhayro, ‘“Gabriel is on their Right”: Angelic Protection in Jewish Magic and Babylonian Lore’, Studia Mesopotamica 1 (2014), pp. 185–198. A. Manekin-Bamberger, ‘Jewish Legal Formulae in the Aramaic Incantation Bowls’, Aramaic Studies 13 (2015), pp. 69–81. H. Misgav, ‘Jewish-Aramaic Incantation Bowls’, in D. Regev, H. Hizmi (eds), Finds Gone Astray: adca Confiscated Items (Jerusalem, 2018), pp. 53–72. D. Molin, ‘Biblical Quatations in the Aramaic Incantation Bowls and Their Contribution to the Study of the Babylonian Reading Tradition’, in A.D. Hornkohl, G. Khan (eds), Studies in Semitic Vocalisation and Reading Traditions (Cambridge, 2020), pp. 147–170. J.A. Montgomery, Aramaic Incantations Texts from Nippur (Philadelphia, 1913). M. Moriggi, A Corpus of Syriac Incantation Bowls: Syriac Magical Texts from Late-Antique Mesopotamia (Leiden, 2014). M. Moriggi, ‘“And the Impure and Abominable Priests Fled for Help to the Names of the Devils” Amulets and Magical Practices in Syriac Christian Culture between Late Antiquity and the Modern World’, Hugoye: Journal of Syriac Studies 19 (2016), pp. 371– 384. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Aramäische Koine—Ein Beschwörungsformular aus Mesopotamien’, Baghdader Mitteilungen 29 (1998), pp. 331–348. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Lilit(s) in der aramäisch-magischen Literatur der Spätantike: Teil i: Wüstenbeherrscherin, Baum-Lilit und Kindesräuberin’, Altorientalische Forschungen 28 (2001), pp. 338–352. C. Müller-Kessler, Die Zauberschaltentexte in der Hilprecht-Sammlung, Jena, und weitere Nippur-Texte anderer Sammlungen (Wiesbaden, 2005). F. Nau, Conjuration de Nestorius contre les migraines (Paris, 1916). J. Naveh, ‘A Syriac Amulet on Leather’, Journal of Semitic Studies 42 (1997), pp. 33–38. J. Naveh, S. Shaked, Amulets and Magic Bowls: Aramaic Incantations of Late Antiquity (Jerusalem, 1985). J. Naveh, S. Shaked, Magic Spells and Formulae: Aramaic Incantations of Late Antiquity (Jerusalem, 1993). H. Salamé-Sarkis, ‘Une amulette maronite signée et diffusée par le Patriarche Boulos Masʿad’, Mélanges de l’Université Saint-Joseph 51 (1990) pp. 313–325.

syriac magic and the contemporary christian milieu

201

D.M. Salzer, Die Magie der Anspielung (Tübingen, 2010). J.E. Sanzo, N.H. Korsvoll, ‘A New Testament Text on a Syriac Incantation Bowl: Eph. 6:10–17 on ibc 3’, Vigiliae Christianae 71 (2017) pp. 1–16. A. Schmidt, G. Abousamra, ‘Une amulette syriaque dans la collection du Matenadaran à Yerevan (rouleau 9–90)’, The Harp 29 (2014), pp. 143–164. J.B. Segal, Catalogue of the Aramaic and Mandaic incantation Bowls in the British Museum, (London, 2000). S. Shaked, ‘Manichaean Incantations Bowls in Syriac’, Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 24 (2000), pp. 58–92. S. Shaked, J.N. Ford, and S. Bhayro, Aramaic Bowl Spells, Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Bowls, Volume One (Leiden, 2013). H. Teule, G. Kessel, ‘The Mikhail Sado collection of Syriac manuscripts in St. Petersburg’, in J.P. Monferrer-Sala, H. Teule, S. Torallas (eds), Eastern Christians and their written heritage (Leuven, 2012), pp. 43–76. N. Vilozny, Lilith’s Hair and Ashmedai’s Horns. Figure and Image in Magic and Popular Art: Between Babylonia and Palestine in Late Antiquity (Jerusalem, 2017). [Hebrew]

chapter 9

A Mandaean Lamella and Its Parallels: bm 132957+bm 132947+bm 132954 Matthew Morgenstern and Ohad Abudraham

In a seminal article from 1999, Christa Müller-Kessler drew attention to the large collection of Mandaean lamellae housed at the British Museum and their potential contribution to our understanding of Mandaean magic and religion.1 In the same article, Müller-Kessler presented an editio princeps of parts of a lengthy magical formula comprising of a list of demon names that dwell in different geographical locations and noted that some sections of this formula are paralleled by magic bowl texts, excerpts from which she published in a partial synopsis. In another important article published in the same year, MüllerKessler presented editions of two more Mandaean formulae from lamellae (bm 1357932 Ia and a lamella auctioned at Christie’s).3 In both articles, she firmly established that the texts inscribed upon lamellae and those inscribed upon earthenware bowls belong to the same period and cultural environment. In subsequent articles, including two written with her husband Karlheinz Kessler, Müller-Kessler discussed various aspects of these lamellae, in particular from an Assyriological perspective.4 Regrettably, her complete edition of this and other texts from the British Museum has never been published. Over the past 20 years, hundreds of additional Mandaean epigraphic sources have come to light or been deciphered. Beyond the materials discussed in the 1 C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Interrelations between Mandaic Lead Scrolls and Incantation Bowls’, in T. Abusch and K. van der Toorn (eds.), Mesopotamian Magic: Textual, Historical, and Interpretative Perspectives (Groningen, 1999), pp. 197–209. 2 Sic. 3 C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Aramäische Beschwörungen und astronomische Omina in nachbabylonischer Zeit. Das Fortleben mesopotamischer Kultur im Vorderen Orient’, in J. Renger (ed.), Babylon: Focus Mesopotamischer Geschichte, Wiege früher Gelehrsamkeit, Mythos in der Moderne. 2. Internationales Colloquium der Deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft 24.–26. März 1998 in Berlin (Berlin, 1999), pp. 427–443. 4 C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Dämon + ytb ‘L—Ein Krankheitsdämon. Eine Studie zu aramäischen Beschwörungen medizinischen Inhalts’, in B. Böck, E. Cancik-Kirschbaum, and T. Richter (eds.) Munuscula Mesopotamica. Festschrift für Johannes (Münster, 1999), pp. 341–354; C. Müller-Kessler and K. Kessler, ‘Spätbabylonische Gottheiten in spätantiken mandäischen Texten’, Zeitschrift für Assyriologie 89 (1999), pp. 65–87.

© Matthew Morgenstern and Ohad Abudraham,

a mandaean lamella and its parallels

203

editio princeps, there are currently over 200 magic bowls and around 40 lamellae that remain unpublished. The scope of the unpublished material is considerably larger than that of the texts that have appeared in scholarly editions. Furthermore, advances in the study of the texts and in digital photography enable us to improve upon the readings of previously published material. The present article seeks to present the first full edition of the Mandaean formula preserved on bm 132957+bm 132947+bm 132954 along with a synoptic presentation of its parallels. All the sources presented here have been transcribed or collated on the basis of high-definition digital photographs, including the sources previously published by Müller-Kessler, whose important contribution to the study of these texts is duly acknowledged. Most of our parallels are published here for the first time and they have aided us in many cases in our reading of the lamellae, but we have no doubt that the discovery and editing of additional parallels will further illuminate the reading and interpretation of this and other Mandaean formulae preserved on bowls and lamellae. For reasons of space, we have kept our comments brief. Our aim here is to provide a first edition of this interesting text in its entirety to encourage its study; we have no doubt that other scholars will have much to contribute to its elucidation. The text, which makes frequent references to local gods, casts considerable light upon the religious landscape of pre-Islamic Mesopotamia and makes reference to Babylonian, Persian, Christian, Jewish and perhaps even Greek deities.

1 1.

The Sources Lamellae bm 132957, bm 132947, bm 132954. The first two items are the remains of a single strip which were tacitly combined in Müller-Kessler’s edition, while her proposal that the formula continues on bm 132954 is proven by the repetition of the final line of bm 132947, [h]ʿia ušba ahua[ta] (l. 240), in the first line of bm 132954, hʿia ušba ahuatẖ (l. 240′). In total, the formula comprises of 329 lines of text,5 a total of about 1150 words. It is mostly legible, though corrosion and damage have obscured some letters, and the miniscule script is in some places cursive and malformed. The short lines contain around 16–20 letters. In some cases, the scribe split a single word over two lines, while in others he wrote the first few letters of a word at the end of one line and then rewrote it in its

5 We have left the repeated line unnumbered, hence our edition contains 328 lines. This causes a discrepancy of one line between our numbering and that employed in some of MüllerKessler’s publications.

204

2. 3.

6 7 8 9

10 11 12 13 14 15 16

17

18 19

20 21

morgenstern and abudraham

entirety on the following line. We regard this as a scribal practice rather than a textual error and have left these repetitions without emendation marks in our transcription, though they are omitted in our translation. The orthography is often defectiva, and we have similarly seen no reason to emend this. We have striven to interpret the text as it stands and have avoided unnecessary speculative emendations.6 Müller-Kessler’s partial edition presents lines 1–36, most of lines 50–61, 69–76, 82–85, 106–121, and lines 157–169, 171–172, 176–177, 182–184, 230– 243.7 We have found first readings8 of selected parts of the text in other articles: ll. 48–50 (sic);9 l. 145;10 ll. 155–156;11 l. 169–170;12 ll. 188, 190–195;13 ll. 220–221;714 l. 227;15 l. 250;16 ll. 254–255;17 ll. 256;18 291–304.19 M 138, now in the possession of the National Library of Israel (nli94456; Previously M 49). Parallels lines 1–65. Unpublished. bm 132168.20 Parallels lines 110–121. Parallels published in Müller-Kessler’s edition.21 See e.g. our comments on ll. 190–195. Müller-Kessler, ‘Interrelations between Mandaic Lead Scrolls and Incantation Bowls’, pp. 199–207. We have not mentioned all citations here; preference has been given to first editions. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘A Mandaic Incantation against an Anonymous Dew Causing Fright (Drower Collection 20 and its Variant dc 43 E)’, Aram 22 (2010), pp. 453–476 (469). The final word of the citation has been omitted, but it is represented in the translation and commentary. See our comments below on these lines. Müller-Kessler and Kessler, ‘Spätbabylonische Gottheiten’, p. 79. Ibid. p. 71. Ibid. p. 79. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Ištar als «Heiliger Geist»’, n.a.b.u. (1998), pp. 111–112. Müller-Kessler and Kessler, ‘Spätbabylonische Gottheiten’, p. 79. The text is misinterpreted here. See commentary. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘A Mandaic Gold Amulet in the British Museum’, Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 311 (1998), pp. 83–88 (86). C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Dan(h)iš—Gott und Dämon’, in J. Marzahn and H. Neumann (eds.), Assyriologica et Semitica. Festschrift für Joachim Oelsner anläßlich seines 65. Geburtstages (Münster, 2000), pp. 311–318 (314). C. Müller-Kessler, ‘More on Puzzling Words and Spellings in Aramaic Incantation Bowls and Related Texts’, Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies 75 (2012), pp. 1–31 (21). Müller-Kessler and Kessler, ‘Spätbabylonische Gottheiten’, p. 76. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Phraseology in Mandaic Incantations and Its Rendering in Various Eastern Aramaic Dialects. A Collection of Magic Terminology’, Aram 11–12 (1999/2000), pp. 293–310 (307). J.B. Segal, Catalogue of the Aramaic and Mandaic Incantation Bowls in the British Museum (London, 2000), p. 132. Our edition presents a collated text that takes account of the corrections to Segal’s edi-

a mandaean lamella and its parallels

205

4. 5.

ms 2054/29. Parallels lines 127–139. Unpublished. Israel Antiquities Authority Mandaic G. Parallels lines 152–161. Unpublished. 6. bm 91777.22 Parallels lines 157–171, 229–246. Parallels published in MüllerKessler’s edition.23 7. ms 2054/23. Parallels lines 169–171. Unpublished. 8. fm E.2–1970. Parallels lines 172–173, 176–177 182–184. Collated and republished in Müller-Kessler’s edition.24 9. ms 2054/14. Parallels lines 178–182. Unpublished. 10. ms 2054/19 Parallels lines 182–184. Unpublished. 11. ms 2054/114. Parallels lines 187–217. Unpublished. 12. M154 (now nli94319). Parallels lines 218–223. Published by Morgenstern.25 13. Magic bowl in the Wolfe Collection. Parallels lines 218–223 in vulgar spelling. Unpublished. 14. David Crown Gallery 4. Parallels lines 248–249. Unpublished. 15. ms 2054/32. Parallels lines 265–271. Unpublished. The text has several parallels with a magic bowl text written in the Jewish script (bm 1957-9-25.1).26 These parallels are not included in our edition, but are noted in the commentary.

22 23

24

25

26

tion presented in C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Die Zauberschalensammlung des British Museum’, Archiv für Orientforschung 48/49 (2002), pp. 115–145 (136–137); and J.N. Ford, ‘Notes on the Mandaic Incantation Bowls in the British Museum (review of Catalogue of the Aramaic and Mandaic Incantation Bowls in the British Museum by J.B. Segal)’, Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 26 (2002), pp. 237–272 (257–258). Segal, Catalogue of the Aramaic and Mandaic Incantation Bowls, pp. 138–140. Our edition presents a collated text that takes account of the corrections to Segal’s edition presented in Müller-Kessler, ‘Die Zauberschalensammlung’, p. 138; and Ford, ‘Notes on the Mandaic Incantation Bowls’, pp. 265–267. Müller-Kessler, ‘Interrelations between Mandaic Lead Scrolls and Incantation Bowls’, pp. 202–209. We have the following corrections to that edition: i 2 for ʿubdia read ʿubadia; i 10 for guspuhra read gusphra; i 12 for gʿiba read gʿida; ii 21 for uʿl read uʿil; ii 22 for umqṭilun read umsṭilun; ii 25 for bʿisariun read bʿisaraiun; ii 30 for ligria read ligaria; iii 36 for muhbaṭ read mhraṭ; iii 40 for ḏ-azl⟨i⟩a read ḏ-azla (fem.pl., does not require emendation); iii 43 for ḏ-haui ršumẖ read ḏ-had šuma; iii 45 for u⟨a⟩suta read usuta (does not require emendation). Parallel cited in M. Morgenstern, ‘Mandaic Magic Bowls in the Moussaieff Collection’, in M. Lubetski and E. Lubetski (eds.), New Inscriptions and Seals Relating to the Biblical World (Atlanta, 2012), pp. 157–170 (163–164). The text published in its entirety in M. Morgenstern, ‘Five Mandaic Magic Bowls from the Moussaieff Collection’, Eretz Israel 34 (2021; Ada Yardeni Memorial Volume), pp. 118–120. D. Levene and G. Bohak, ‘A Babylonian Jewish Aramaic Incantation Bowl with a List of Deities and Toponyms’, Jewish Studies Quarterly 19 (2012), pp. 56–72.

206 2

morgenstern and abudraham

The Edition

The Mandaic text presented line-for-line in bold characters and is transliterated according to the system developed by Rudolf Macuch. Scribal erasures are marked with strikethrough, e.g. thuil, superlinear insertions are marked with carets, e.g. ˄a˄. Uncertain readings are given as grey letters, e.g. a. Breaks in the source and reconstructions are marked with square brackets, e.g. [a], while ellipsis indicates where we have omitted a portion of text from the source, e.g. … Where two parallels exist, we have presented them in parallel columns. As noted above, we have proposed only the most minimal textual emendations. The translation is presented in continuous paragraphs, and the line numbers are marked at the nearest convenient point without breaking words. Wherever possible, the toponyms that have been identified have been translated with an English equivalent. However, many have defied identification, and the parallels indicate that several may have been corrupted during the course of textual transmission.

1. 2.

bm 132957 [bšum]a [ḏ-]hiia rbia [asu]ta thuilẖ thuil

3.

[lpʿ]ir nukraia br

4.

bm 132947 [a]bandukt [u]ldurẖ

5. 6.

ubitẖ bgan šuma rba ubgan mʿmra qadmaiia

7.

bgan mndʿa ḏ-hiia bgan

8. 9.

iauar ziua bgan hibil ʿutra mzrza bgan hi

10. 11.

ia qrina ʿl msra msu ra msar šidia udiui

M138 (1) bšumaiun ḏ-hiia asuta uzrzta uhtmta (2) uzaku[ta] thuilẖ lhazin bita uruha unʿšimta ḏ[ah]ai br (3) ʿspindarmid udbistai pt qaimta [ulb]naiun ulbnatun […] (4) bgan bgan šuma šuma rba ubgan mim[ra rba] qadmiia bg[a]n […] ʿl (5) kulhin liliata šurbata bgan mndʿa ḏ-hiia [… bgan ku]lhin qiriata bgan hibil (6) ʿutra mzrza ʿl kulhin šurbata uliliata […] ḏ-shria [uʿku]ria uliliata (7) uhumria bita uqiriata ḏ-šaria bbtia h[rbia …]ar

a mandaean lamella and its parallels 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21.

shria šidia udiuia nksia ʿstrta hu mria uliliata msda m umrgal kulhun šbiahia ʿlahia umlakia humria uʿk uria uptikria prkia uarkunia mšbaq hrba nura uiaqadna ušmata uagzrata ʿl

22. 23. 24. 25.

qninia qininia uʿl š urbata šurbata uʿl bitia bitia ʿl hu mria humria

26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36.

ʿsira tltma uštin qriata ḏ-hšuka ḏʿka brqʿiha barbi ia qr⟨na⟩tẖ ḏ-alma bit muzinia ʿsira kulhn qriata ḏ-ʿka barqa pt iuna mn mrba lm {dana}dna umn grbia ltmni˄a˄ alma lska ḏ-mia sia uia ʿsira kulhiun qinia ušurbata ʿsi

37. 38.

r bizbaṭ abhn ḏ-shr ia uʿsiria kulhun bnẖ

39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44.

shria udiuia ušidi ia uliliata lhania ulṭb ia pʿgia upalgia ubnia ʿngaria ʿsiria ḏ-bt nbu klba ḏ-laihibia ubaiia ularšun umipria

ushria udiuia unkusia (8) ʿstrata uhumria uliliata misdam umirgal kulhun š[ibia]hia [alahia] umlakia uʿkuria uptikria uʿkuria [u]p[ir]kia uarkunia (9) lmišbaq ʿlauaihun hirba unura uiaqdan[a] uš[mata] uagzrta ʿl kulhun šʿbiahia ualahia umlakia uʿkuria uarkunia (10) uptikria uʿl kulhin qnnia uʿl kulhin šurbata šur[bata u]ʿl [kulhu]n bati[a] batia uʿl kulhin humria humria ʿsira buznai (11) lilia̶ta hia ukulhin šurbata tum [ʿ]sira tltma ušitin utrtin qirita ḏ-hišuka ḏaka {barba} barbia qrnata alma bit (12) muzania ʿsira kulhin šurbata ḏ-aka {bar-a} barqa pt iuna mn mrba lmadna umn girbia {a} ltimia ualma lsaka ḏ-mia siauia ʿsira kulhn (13) mia siauia ʿsir˄i˄a alahia uʿstrata ukulhun qinnia uš[u]rbata ḏ-[s]hria ʿsir bizbaṭ abuhun ḏ-shria uʿsiria kulhun bnẖ uʿsi (14) uʿsiria kulhun shria udiuia uliliata ulihania ulṭabia upigia upalgia {[…]garia} ubringar[i]a ʿsiria ḏ-bit nʿklta ḏ-lihib ubaiia udla ršu (15) umiparia umtqiria luṭta uaqrita balma

207

208 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56.

ʿsiria nalia unualia š urbata ḏ-ririnia ʿsiria ḏ-bit hndii˄a˄ shra ḏ-pqidilẖ ha ṣbia ḏ-mia ukuzia ḏmgalia ʿsiria ḏ-bt pqa shra ḏ-lbiš ia blaiia umksin blaiiata uiatib ʿl qi qlata hrubata hinun mitqria pʿga ḏ-lilia uqria ḏ-ʿmama ʿsir

57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62. 63. 64. 65.

ia ḏ-bit alga shra ḏ-atibia tutia nrzu bia ʿsiria ḏ-bit mqa dun shra ḏ-atibia bzuiata ḏ-btia hrbi a ʿsiria ḏ-bit ssnp run shra ḏ-šria bšhpia kuia ubtiaqi a ngria ʿsiria ḏ-apkia

66. 67. 68. 69. 70. 71. 72. 73. 74. 75.

libia umšania trta ʿsiria kulhiun diuia ḏʿka btibil {ʿsiria} ʿsira kumiš lilita ḏšria mn šuš ualma lšuštria bhrbia qdrun matin umadai uarqa ḏ-rhimaiia udibra ḏ-bit aspnia ʿsira hʿia ukulhun

morgenstern and abudraham ʿsiria nalia uniulia ušurba ḏ-rirania ʿsiria ʿsiria ḏ-bit hindu shra ḏ-pqidlẖ haṣbia ḏ-mia (16) ukuzia ḏmglia ʿsiria ḏ-bit pqrun shrẖ ḏ-lbišia blaiiẖ umksia blaiiẖ uiatbia ʿl qiqlata hrbata ḏ-hinin mitqiria qiria ḏ-lili{i}a upiga (17) ḏ-imama ḏ-hinin mšauia mnklata uailia bbtaiun ḏ-anašia umhribilun ʿsiria ḏ-bit alga shra ḏ-iatib tutia nrzubia ʿsir bita ḏ-mqdun shra (18) ḏ-iatib bzauiata ḏ-bit[ia] harbia ʿsiria ḏ-bit siqpun shra ḏ-šria bšhpia ḏ-kauia ubtiaqia ḏ-ʿngaria hadria ʿl kulhun batia haditia ḏ-la lil[…]aihun (19) hinun alia ušaribun umhrbilhun […] umšauia […] (20) mn bitẖ udurẖ uhiklẖ ubinianẖ ubnẖ ḏ-ahai br ʿspindarmid uhiia zakin

a mandaean lamella and its parallels 76. 77. 78. 79. 80. 81. 82. 83. 84. 85. 86. 87. 88. 89. 90. 91. 92. 93. 94. 95. 96. 97. 98. 99. 100. 101. 102. 103. 104. 105. 106. 107. 108. 109. Verso 110.

27 28

šurbatẖ ʿsira ṭrʿ piṭ lilia ḏ-šria bṭu ra ḏ-hšuka hʿia ukulun šurbatẖ ʿsira dnapaṭ dinariṭ27 lilita ḏ-šria bṭu ra ḏ-tlga ʿsira hʿia ukulhun šu⟨r⟩btẖ ʿsira nmlik liliata ḏ-šria barqa ḏ-prsia hʿia ukulhiun šurbatẖ ʿsira mlkiat lilita ḏ-šria bkulẖ atra ḏ-mšun hʿia ukulhn šurbatẖ ʿsira šaš qlia lilita ḏ-šria bṭura qlia ḏ-qria ḏ-qlaia ḏ-qlia marẖ ḏ-alma hʿia ukulhn šurbata ʿsira hṭaṭit liliata ḏšria ʿl kipẖ ḏ-rbita ʿsira hʿia ukulhn š urbata ʿsira hʿia ukulhn krbia28 umrkbata ḏ-rugaza ḏ-pqdalẖ ʿsi ra ildat lilita ḏ-šria ʿl kipẖ ḏ-ʿulai hʿia ukulhn šurbatẖ ʿsira azaṭ liliata ḏ-šria bsiniaus bniana ḏbt mlaka ḏ-rima h ʿia ukulhn šurbata ʿsira npazaṭ lilita ḏ-šria {bpran ḏ-} bpumẖ ḏ-nhar zptai ʿsira hʿia ukulhn ⟨šurbatẖ⟩ ʿsir ʿulmaia ḏ-šria bd

Or kinariṭ. See commentary.

bm 132168 (1) ʿsir ʿlmaiẖ ḏ-šria

209

210

morgenstern and abudraham

111. bra ḏ-kulania uʿsir ʿlmaia 112. diua ḏ-šria bhrbia ḏ-abu 113. 114. 115. 116. 117. 118.

ḏ-abura hubra atiqata ʿ sira lilita mrbia klibia ʿsira lilita mrbia klibia ḏ-šria ʿl nhar pišra umamai qria lnpša ʿsira kulhn liliata uʿstrta ḏ-

119. 120. 121. 122. 123. 124. 125. 126.

šria baqra škitin ša29 šaqrat {ubatnia} ubtunia ḏ-bia aulia ʿsir mšʿha ḏ-mhiana ḏ-šria bqlisia ḏ-qrabul ʿsiria hrša umnla ḏ-kd ba urazia ḏ-hšuka ḏ-npqia m mn pumẖ ʿsir šmzana diua ḏ-šria baqra ḏ-krka bsluk

127. 128. 129. 130. 131. 132. 133. 134. 135. 136. 137. 138. 139. 140. 141.

ʿsir šrznaia diua ḏ-šria ba qra ḏ-ʿulai baqra ḏ-krka ḏsaluk {ʿsir} ʿsiria kulhun ʿla hia umlakia uʿstrta ʿkuria uptikria shria udiuia uhumria uliliata ḏ-šria ʿl nhar glala uʿl nhar simar uʿl nhar biṭar uʿl nhar biahmia ʿsira ʿstra ḏdura ḏ-šina uʿsira ʿstra hurdniata ʿsira ʿstra ḏ-qrunia ʿsira ʿstra ḏgura ḏ-ʿiurat ʿsir zakur shra sina ḏ-šria ʿl iama ta ḏ-aqira ʿsiria ʿlahia

29

bdibra ḏ- (2) kulania … (12) [u]ʿsir ʿlmaiẖ diua ḏ-šria (13) bhurbia […] atiqa ʿsira (14) lilita [m]r[b]ia klbia ḏ-šria ʿl (15) nhar pišra (16) umamai qrat lnpša ʿsira (17) kulhin liliata [uʿstrta nuqba]ta … (28) ʿsira kulhin liliata uʿstrata (29) ḏšaria baqra ḏ-bit (30) ʿškatʿil ušrqat (31) ubatunia ḏbiaulia

ms 2054/29 (3) ʿsir šrznaia diua … (6) [… u]ʿsiria kulhun alahia uʿstrata uʿ[kuri]a uptikria (7) ushri[a] udiuia uhumri[a] ulili[a]ta ḏ-šria ʿl nhar glala [uʿ]l nhar simar uʿl (8) nhar biṭar uʿl nhar biah[i]a [uʿ]sira […]ita uʿs[i]ra ʿstra ḏ-nhar dina (9) h[ur]bnaita uʿsira ʿst[ra] […] uʿsira ʿs[t]ra ḏ˄g[u]rita˄ ʿiaurit

The unclear writing appears to represent the start of the following word, though the letters are malformed.

a mandaean lamella and its parallels 142. 143. 144. 145. 146. 147. 148. 149. 150. 151.

uʿstrta uʿkuria uhumria uptikria ušidia udiuia uliliata ḏ-kul atra bit sria ḏ-pu m trin bigzura unuar nrig ubit ṭaṭia ḏ-šuiania ubrtẖ ḏ-mhla ʿsira ʿstra ḏ-ṭu ra qaima ḏ-braza ḏ-biqaz qun ssris mrba ʿsira ʿstra ḏ-huṣia uʿsir š ida ḏ-gzra ḏ-mhla ʿsira ʿ

152. s⟨t⟩ra ḏ-urdnia ʿsir zhil 153. diua uʿsir šida ʿlmaiia bra

154. za {ḏ-bz} ḏ-bhzqun ahblum 155. ʿsira ʿstra trbuš⟨n⟩ita 156. umulit ḏ-nhar kmar ʿsir 157. usdim mria ḏ-bit zatan ʿsi 158. ra ʿstra amšmiš ḏ-š 159. uš bʿ⟨r⟩ta ʿsira usidima ʿs 160. pndarmid lilita ḏ-qrat lnp?30 161. lnpša banug ʿsira anahid lilita 162. 163. 164. 165. 166.

ḏ-arimin ḏ-kldaiiẖ ʿsira usidi ma lilita ḏ-atiba ʿl ṭura qali˄a˄ ḏ-qalẖ ulaṭẖ marẖ ḏ-alma uqlia hʿia ḏ-luṭata lṭura ḏiatiba ʿlẖ ḏ-luṭata uqria

167. lnpša nanai ḏ-mia šlmia

30

211

iaa G (4) ʿsir zah[il di]ua ʿsir (5) [šid]a ʿlmaiiẖ hu kulhin šurbatẖ ukulhin mhšbatẖ b[raz]ẖ ḏ-bhzqan (6) ah[ba]lum … (9) ʿsira ʿstra trbušnita umulit ḏ-nhar kmar ʿsir usṭim m[a]ria ḏ-bit (10) zatan ʿsira ʿstra ḏ-amašamiš ḏšuš birta ʿsira usṭima ʿspdarmid lilita hiẖ qrat lnpša … (12) ʿsira banug ahata ʿsira anahid lilita

bm 91777 (10) usdi[m mri]a ḏ-bit zaman ʿsira ʿstra amšamiš ḏšuš birta ʿsira sdima ʿspa[ndar]mid lilita hʿ qrat lnpš[a] ʿspan[dar]mid banug […] (11) ʿsira banug […] anhid lilita … (12) uʿsira usdima lilita ḏ-itba ʿl ṭura qalia ḏ-qilẖ ulaṭẖ marẖ ḏ-alma hazin hʿia luṭata lṭura ḏitiba ʿlẖ ḏ-luṭata ḏ-lṭat (13) uqrat ʿsira hʿia uluṭata … lnpšẖ nnai ḏ-iatba ʿl mia šlamia …

Müller-Kessler read lnš, but we do not see indications of the strikethrough on the first two letters. The final letter appears to us to be closer to a malformed p followed by what perhaps is the start of a š.

212

morgenstern and abudraham

168. ʿsira nanai ḏ-burṣip unanai

169. ḏ-bit guzaiia ʿsir nirig ḏ-

170. nhar kuptia uʿsir nišar 171. ḏ-kškar ʿsir birqa ḏ-šri 172. 173. 174. 175. 176. 177.

a bmata bt guznaiia ʿsira gi sur prsita uhugad prsita ʿsira anahid ḏ-qria lnpša anahid mlakata uʿsira pn prinarm dniata ʿsir mhraṭ shra ḏ-atib ʿl tila ḏ-mura

178. uʿsira humrta uʿkura ḏ179. šria ʿl tila ḏ-šulap ʿsi 180. ra lilita ḏ-ʿl tila ḏ-nhat iati˄ba˄ 181. uqria lnpša nanai {ḏ-xxx} ḏnhat 182. ʿsir grud gusphara alaha 183. 184. 185. 186.

bruqa ḏ-atib ʿl gidẖ ḏ-dig lata ʿsira qinratia lilita pt šrai ḏ-atiba ʿl tila ḏ-bit mna ḏ-ʿstra ḏ-bit mna qri˄a˄

187. 188. 189. 190. 191. 192. 193.

lnpša hʿia ʿttẖ ḏ-ria t bula ugirtẖ ḏ-trmuz br kutil hʿia ḏ-abuia qrila srsania hršata uʿmẖ qa rialẖ amamit šprtia dh dhla uqdišata qrila r ruha ḏ-qudša ukumrẖ

ʿsira usdima nnai ḏ-burṣip ʿsira ˄usdima˄ nnai ms 2054/23 (4) uʿsir nirig ḏ-

nhar kuptẖ uʿsir nirig ḏ-kškar (5) uʿsir nišar ḏ-kškar ms 2054/43 (5) ʿsira gʿsur prsita

ḏ-bit guzaiiẖ ḏ-bghzai (14) ʿsira hnin ukulhin prstuiata ḏqaima qudamain … (15) [ʿ]sir n[ʿrig ḏnha]r kuptia uʿsir nʿrig ḏ-kškar uʿsir nʿšar ḏ-kškar … ḏ-kškar … fm E.2–1907 (35) ʿsira gisur (36) prsaita

uʿsir mʿhrṭ uʿisir mhraṭ shra ḏ-qaim (6) qudamẖ ḏ-bit shra (37) ḏ-qaim qudamẖ ḏmgba bʿit mgʿria ms 2054/14 (4) ʿsira hia murat humt[a] uʿkura [… ḏ-] šria (5) ʿ[l] tila ḏ-š[ulap …] ʿsira lilita ḏ-ʿl tʿila ḏ-n[…] iatba uq[ria] (6) [lnpša nanai …] fm E.2–1907 [ʿsir gru]d gus[p]hra ḏ-qaim […] (9) ʿsir (10) grud gusphra (11) ʿsir ʿlaha bru˄qa˄ (12) ḏ-ʿl gʿida didigalat (13) iatib

ms 2054/114 (3) hia ʿttẖ (4) ḏ-raia tbula ugiartẖ […] kutal ḏ-abu qarila (5) srasnia hrašta uʿm[a qariala am]amit šapirtia udhla (6) uqadiša qarila ruha ḏ-qudša ukumra

a mandaean lamella and its parallels 194. 195. 196. 197. 198. 199. 200. 201. 202. 203. 204. 205. 206. 207. 208. 209. 210. 211. 212. 213. 214. 215. 216. 217. 218. 219.

[ukumr]ata qarila ʿstra ḏbit mnaia (7) ḏ-lʿba mlila hršia upuma zipa ušiqra ubit gbina razia urimzia bšiqra ubširqia ukdba ḏ-ʿka luatẖ msṭia (8) ukdbia ḏ-ʿka luata masṭialhun lun lalmia udaria uʿqaria lalmia udaria … uluat dhila udhilata mndam ḏ-š (10) dhla udhlata ʿqara mndam ḏapir labad⟨a⟩ ḏ-rhmalẖ ihiba šapir labda ḏ-rahmala iahbala lẖ gura uzniuta ḏ-snialẖ gura uzniuta udsniala iahbalẖ dištna umṭnputa iahbala daštana umṭnputa ukdšalẖ {bgba} bgrba ḏ-rh ḏ- (11) rahmala malẖ tlilẖ ṭibla bṣura ḏ-{š}⟨s⟩ni tliala ṭʿbla bṣura alẖ albištẖ grba uautibatẖ udsniala mlbšala girba umutbala baba sania ʿnišia mnṭul ḏbbaba hinun sania ʿnšia mnṭul hrša urhma gubria mnṭu hršain urahma (12) gubria mnṭul gura lbar mn tlata ʿu mnṭul gurain ʿsira urgila ukbiša braza umlala ḏ-tlata tria bnia nhura ḏ-[ʿ]hibalik gubria bnia nhura kḏ abar uʿtu ʿla u[…]la razik uglilik šṭuatik utibr raza uglula (13) šiṭuata ldila lshra ulhumra uliliata tabarla lik qrinik brišik ha haza qarna briša … hazai ḏ-ana nukraia razik ua (14) mnṭul ḏ-ihabilik razik ksatik umumatik ʿhi[b]i uakastik lik ulkulhin qriatik lik lthṭibia bdilia pʿir latihṭailia lia dilia (15) aziazdan br maduk {uz} uzuai ubnai mnṭul razik mnṭul ḏ-ihibilik razik uksa tik umumtik ʿhibilik ušiṭ[u] uakastik M154 atik glilik ʿsir diua abugdana (4) ʿsirr(!) abugdana rba qrbtana ḏ-atib ʿl tila ḏ-bia bršrta˄i˄ ḏ-iatib (5) ʿl tila ḏ-bršartai

213

ukumratẖ qrilẖ ʿstra ḏbit mna ḏ-liba mlilẖ hrš ia pumẖ zipa ušiqra ubit gbi na razia urimazia bšiqra

Wolfe Unnumbered (1) ʿsira diuia (2) abugdan rba qrptan ḏ-iatiba ʿl tila rba ḏ-bita šrta

214

morgenstern and abudraham

220. uʿsir nrig ḏ-atib ʿl tila

uʿsir nirig ḏ-iatib ʿl tila

221. ḏ-bia knrita ʿsir gurda 222. shra ḏ-šarim ptulata

ḏ-bit knariata (6) uʿsir grud guria shra ḏ-šarim ptulata

223. ḏ-atib ʿl tila ḏ-bia lhmia

ḏ-iatib ʿl tila ḏ-bit blahmia

224. 225. 226. 227. 228.

237. 238. 239. 240. 240′. 241. 242. 243.

gusphra ḏ-ša ḏ-šra ptulta ḏ-[iatib]a ʿl tila ḏ-[b]lahmia

ʿsira ʿstra srita uʿs tra klbita ʿsira ʿstra huzita uʿstra qrmnia ta ʿsira šadia31 banug ʿsir abugdana mrida ʿ si

229. ubugdnita mrdnita uʿsir 230. mlaka ḏ-radin [šu]ṭagda 231. ṭzana uʿsira mrta ḏ-bit

232. 233. 234. 235. 236.

ʿsara nrga ḏ-itiba ʿl tila ḏ-bi krnuta ʿsira grud

[z]ibna uʿsira ʿstra ḏ-ma [t]a h{da}datia braza [r]ba […]agan uʿsira ʿs [tra ḏ-]ʿl prat iatib[a] [umu]liat […] bm 132957 […]t prikia ʿsir[ia] [šitin] ušita alahia [plng]a ḏ-nanai uʿsira na[nai] [h]ʿia ušba ahua[ta] bm 132954 hʿia ušba ahuata ḏšria ʿl hrina nhara nhara ḏ-bit hšum ʿsir sin ḏ-bit girma udarin ʿsi

244. ra ʿstar ṭura ḏ-ʿiurat 245. ʿsira ʿstara ḏ-ṭura

31

Or šaria.

bm 91777 (18) ʿsir mlka ḏ-radin šṭurga ṭʿzana uʿsiria mlakia kulhun … (19) … ʿsira ʿstra martẖ ḏ-bit {a} zibna [ʿsira ʿstra] ḏ-mata hdita uʿsira liliata zarnia … (20) ʿstra ḏ-ʿl prat iatba umulit qrat lnpša ʿsiria šitin ušita alahia … (21) uʿsira planga ⟨ḏ-⟩ nnai hʿia ušaba ahuata

ḏ-š[ria ʿl] hurina nhra ḏ-bit hašum … (23) uʿsira ʿstra ḏ-bit girmai uradin … (24) ʿstra ḏ-ʿl ṭura iatba ḏ-ialdat uʿsira ʿstar ṭura

215

a mandaean lamella and its parallels 246. mskntia ʿsiria štin 247. ušita ptikria ḏ-šria 248. 249. 250. 251. 252. 253. 254. 255. 256. 257. 258. 259. 260. 261. 262. 263. 264.

ʿl nhar hda ḏ-hšuka ʿsira ʿstra ḏ-bugdana uʿsir zakia udaniš uhzda uʿsira ʿstra ḏ-iatiba bqbria ḏ-ʿsiqria mnṭul ḏ-dmuta hlpat ʿsira ʿstra rbtia32 ḏ-bit abugadana ʿsir tbula ḏ-nanai unahid ʿsira̶ia ptikria ḏ-bit ṣruda ʿsira ʿstra ḏ-bit kuta ʿsira ʿs tra ḏ-bit ṭṭia ʿsira ʿstra {qba}qruṭba ʿsira ʿstra ḏ-lbat ʿsira ʿstra ḏ-urda ḏ-bigrddnia ʿsira ʿs

265. tra ḏ-libat ʿsir mšha 266. 267. 268. 269. 270. 271. 272. 273. 274. 275. 276. 277. 278. 279.

32

ḏ-mšgar klbia uqurn uqurnatan gaṭil hazuria ʿsr ṭṭun ugimar uzamun ušmama ḏ-atib⟨ia⟩ ʿl ʿuha rata uqaria lnpšiun ʿlahia mšria ṣibia […] kulhun ʿlahia ʿstrata uml kia ushria ʿkuria upti kria ušidia uhumria udiuia uliliata rhia saria usiṭania zikria unuqbata ʿsiria kuk bia ḏ-šiqra ukukbia

Or rbitia.

mskintia […] dcg 4 (6) ʿl nhar hada ḏ-hišuka […] uʿsira ʿstra ḏ-abugdana

ms 2054/32 (4) uʿsiria (5) diuia ḏ-šaiiẖ ḏmšʿiha mšgar klbia uʿsiria diuia ḏ-qurnis mgaṭlia (6) hizuria uʿsir diuia ḏ-ṭʿṭun ugimar šmama […] ḏ-iatbia ʿl ʿuhrata uqaria (7) ln[p]šaiun al[a]hia mašria ṣʿbia

216 280. 281. 282. 283. 284. 285. 286. 287. 288. 289. 290. 291. 292. 293. 294. 295. 296. 297. 298. 299. 300. 301. 302. 303. 304. 305. 306. 307. 308. 309. 310. 311. 312. 313. 314. 315. 316. 317. 318. 319.

ḏ-rugaza umlušia kda bia ʿsiria kulhun mla kia ḏ-rugaza ua̶razia bi šia ḏ-rqiha alma bit muzinʿ ʿsiria barqa ptiuna alma lšura ḏ-a rqa mn [a]rqa ʿlma s ka kulẖ {ḏ-maiia} ḏ-mia siauia ʿsiria sdmi˄a˄ uhrimia gziria umgzr ia ʿ siria umšmtia ʿsir pumaiun uʿuira ainiun ḏ-lanhazunẖ lbiš lnukraia mndam luṭata hdatia utiqata umṭrš a ʿudainiun ḏ-lanišimn ʿl pʿir br abandukt mndam luṭata hdtia ua tiqata pkra uʿsira ʿi ʿdaiun ḏ-lanlgṭunẖ [l]pʿir ulnbdulẖ mndam ḏ-biš ʿsiria urgilia lgraihun ḏ-lanitun ʿl nukraia ulnbd ulẖ mndam ḏ-biš mnṭul ḏʿsir hiliun ʿsra hti ma ʿidaiun bšumẖ ḏ-tgar ḏ-tgar […]aṭ šuma rba ubšumẖ ḏ-ahu ahu ahu ahu ahu ahu ahu ahu ahu ubšumẖ ḏ-iam iam a ša[r] ašar ašar a m a m ubʿsqat adan adunai ṣ ṣṣa adunai ṣṣa ubšum anuš šrbiaiil šriria ušriria ṣam uaazʿ uaa[z]ʿ aazʿ aazʿ ubhah⟨u⟩ šuma rba ḏ-bẖ ʿsira šumia uarqa bẖ titsrun ulti štrun bšumẖ ulatitun ʿl nukraia ultqrbun luatẖ

morgenstern and abudraham

a mandaean lamella and its parallels 320. 321. 322. 323. 324. 325. 326. 327. 328.

3

217

bšumẖ ḏ-biatam bitam bitam bi[t]hum amin a min asuta uzkuta thilẖ lnukraia pʿr br aban dukt ulhibil br mama˄i˄ ulmamai pt marta ulanu š br mamai ulmrta p pt mama lduriun hiklẖ un uʿskuptun uhiia zakin

Translation of the bm Lamella

(1) [In the name of] the Great Life! (2) May there be [hea]ling (3) unto Pīr Nuḵraia son of (4) Ābānduḵt [and] unto his dwelling (5) and his house. The anathema of the great name (6) and the anathema of the primordial word, (7) the anathema of Manda-ḏ-Heyyi, the anathema of (8) Yawar-Ziwa, the anathema of Hiḇil (9) the armed Uthra, the anathema of (10) Life I proclaim against … (11) … (12) sahirs and šeds and devs, (13) and slaughterers, goddesses (14) (and) pebble-spirits (14) and liliths, to bind (15) and shackle all of (16) the Seven (planets), the gods (17) and angels, pebble-spirits and (18) templespirits and idols and shrine-spirits (19) and archons, to let loose (M138 adds: against them) (20) sword, fire and conflagration (21) and banning and excommunication against (M138 adds: all the Seven (planets) and gods and angels and temple-spirits and archons and idols, and against) (22) every family and every (23) tribe and against (24) every household, and against (25) every pebblespirit. (M138:10–11 adds: Bound is Buznai the lilith, she and all of her tribes.) (26) Bound are the three hundred and sixty (M138: furthermore, boun[d] are the six hundred and twenty) (27) imprecations of darkness that (28) are in the firmament, in the four (29) corners of the world (?) (M138: up to) the House of (30) the Scales. Bound are all (31) the imprecations that there are on the earth, (32) the daughter of slime (?).33 From west to (33) east, and from north to south, (34) up to the end of the black (35) waters. Bound are all the (36) families and tribes (M138 adds: bound are all the black waters, bound are the gods and goddesses and all the families and the tr[i]bes of the [s]ahirs), bound is (37) Bizbaṭ, the father of the sahirs (38) and bound are all

33

See commentary.

218

morgenstern and abudraham

his children, (39) the sahirs and devs and šeds (40) and liliths, servitors and nasties, (41) pigas and paralysis demons and epilepsy (42) demons. Bound are those of Beṯ (43) Nabu the Dog (M138: The House of [Beṯ] Guile [= Nikkal?]) that do not give (44) yet demand, and have not loaned yet take payment. (M138 adds: and they are called curses and imprecations in this world). (45) Bound are the incubi and tormentors, (46) the tribes of the drooling ones. (47) Bound are those of the House of (Beṯ) the Indians (M138: the House of [Beṯ] India), (48) the sahir who is in charge of (49) pitchers of water and uncovered (50) jugs. Bound are those of Beṯ (51) P(a)qa, (M138: P(a)qrun) the sahir, who are (52) clothed in rags and covered (53) in tatters, and he sits (M138: they sit) upon the (54) desolate rubbish-tips. They (55) are called “affliction of the night” (56) and “mishap of the day” (M138: “mishap of the night” and “affliction of the day”; they set forth guileful ones and they enter men’s houses and destroy them). Bound (57) are those of the Beṯ Alga, the sahir, (58) who sit (M138: who sits) beneath the gutters. (59) Bound are those of the Beṯ Macedon, (60) the sahir, who sit (M138: who sits) in the (61) corners of ruined houses. (62) Bound are those of Beṯ Sasanprun (M138: Siqpun), (63) the sahir who dwells (64) in the leaves (?) of windows and in parapets (M138: of) (65) roofs.34 Bound are those that overturn (66) hearts and pervert the mind. (67) Bound are all the devs that (68) are in the world, (69) bound is Komiš, the lilith who (70) dwells from Susa (71) up to Šuštar, in the ruins (72) of Qidrun, Matiene and Media, (73) and the land of the Romans (74) and the wilderness of Beṯ Asp(a)nia; (75) bound is she and all of (76) her tribes. Bound is (77) Ṭripit, the lilith who dwells in the (78) mountain of darkness, she and all of (79) her tribes. Bound is Dnapaṭ (80) Dinariṭ, the lilith who dwells in the (81) snowy mountain, bound is she (82) and all of her tribes. Bound is (83) N(a)mlik, the lilith who dwells in the land (84) of the Persians, she and all of (85) her tribes. Bound is M(a)lkiat, (86) the lilith who dwells in the whole territory (87) of Mesene, she and all of (88) her tribes. Bound is (89) Šašqalia, the lilith who dwells in the (90) Mount Qalia (“The Burnt Mountain”) (91) that the Lord of the Earth burned, (92) she and all of her tribes. (93) Bound is Hṭaṭit, the lilith who (94) dwells on the banks of the sea, (95) bound is she and all of her (96) tribes. Bound is she (97) and all the vehicles and chariots (98) of fury that she has commanded. (99) Bound is Y(a)ldat, the lilith who dwells (100) on the banks of the Eulæus, she (101) and all of her tribes. Bound is (102) Azaṭ, the lilith who dwells (103) in Siniaus, the edifice (104) of the royal house of 34

The direct parallel with M138 ends here. M138 continues: “They pass by all the new houses that do not … (19) They enter and dwell within them … and they set … (20) from the house and dwelling and residence and building and the children of Ahay b. Ispindarmid, and Life is Victorious!”.

a mandaean lamella and its parallels

219

Rome, (105) she and all of her tribes. (106) Bound is Npazaṭ, the lilith (107) who dwells (108) at the mouth of the Zaftai (= Lower Zab?) river. (109) Bound is she and all of her ⟨tribes⟩. (110) Bound is Ulamayi, who dwells in (111) the wilderness of Kulania (?) and bound is Elamayi, (112) the dev who dwells in the ruins of (113) ancient … (114) Bound is Lilith, the raiser of dogs, (115) bound is Lilith, the raiser of dogs, (116) who dwells on the Pešra river (117) and calls herself Mamai. Bound are (118) all the liliths35 and goddesses who (119) dwell in the fortress of Škitin (120) Šaqrat (bm 132168: of Beṯ Iškatil and Šarqat) and in the furnaces of House of (121) Iniquities. Bound is the Messiah of (sic) The Life-Giver (122) who dwells in the church of Qrabul. (123) Bound are his sorceries and words of (124) falsehood and the spells of darkness that issue (125) from his mouth. Bound is Š(a)mzana, the dev (126) who dwells in the fortress of Karka (town of) Be(ṯ) Sloḵ. (127) Bound is Š(a)rznaia, the dev who dwells in (128) the fortress of Eulæus in the fortress of Karka (town) (129) of Sloḵ. Bound are all the gods (130) and angels and goddesses, temple-spirits (131) and idol-spirits, sahirs and devs (132) and pebble-spirits and liliths that dwell on (133) the Glala River and the Simar River, (134) and on the Biṭar River and on the (135) Be(ṯ)-Hamia River. Bound is the goddess (136) of the town of Šenna, and bound is the Hurdaniata goddess (137) (?; ms 2054/29: the H[ur]bniata goddess), bound is the goddess (138) of Qrunia, bound is the goddess of (139) the cub of Yurat. Bound is Zakur, (140) the odious sahir who dwells on the lakes (141) of tar. Bound are the gods (142) and goddesses and temple-spirits and pebble-spirits (143) and idol-spirits and šeds and devs and liliths (144) of all the House of Syria of the mouth of (145) the two (rivers), Beṯ Gazura (= Jazeera) and Nuar Nirig (146) and Beṯ Ṭaṭi(a) of Šuiania and Brata (147) ḏ-Mihla (“Daughter of Salt”). Bound is the goddess of the enduring (148) mountain who by crouches (?) by the spell of Biqaz (149) Qun Sasris. Bound is (150) the goddess of Huṣi(a) and bound is the šed (151) of Gizra ḏ-Mihla (“The Isle/Heap of Salt”?). Bound is (152) the goddess of Wardunia, bound is Zahil (153) the dev, and bound is the šed, Elamayi (iaa G adds: he and all of his tribes and all of his plans) by the (154) spell of {Bz} Bhzqun (iaa G: Bhzqan) Ahblum. (155) Bound is the goddess Tarbušnita (156) and Mulit of the Kmar river. Bound (157) and fettered is the Master of Beṯ Zatan (bm 91777: Zaman). Bound (158) is the goddess Amaššamiš of (159) Susa the fortress, bound and fettered is (160) Ispandarmid, the lilith who called (161) herself Lady (bm 91777: Ispandarmid the Lady). Bound is (iaa G adds: the Lady, her sister; bound is) Anahid the lilith (162) of Arimin of the Chaldaeans. Bound 35

The text of bm 132168 is damaged here, and when it resumes it takes a different direction. However, in line 28, the bowl reprises the line ʿsira kulhin liliata and again contains a parallel text.

220

morgenstern and abudraham

and fettered (163) is the lilith who sits upon Mount Qalia (“the burnt mountain”) (164) that the Lord of the World burned and cursed, (165) burned is she that cursed the mountain (166) upon which she sits, that of curses, and she calls (167) herself Nanai of (bm 91777: that sits upon) the perfect waters. (168) Bound is Nanai of Borsippa and Nanai (169) of Beṯ Guzayi. Bound is Nirig of (170) the Kufti River. Bound is Nišar of (171) Kashkar, bound is Birqa who dwells (172) in the town (of) Beṯ Guznaia, bound is (173) Gisur the Persian and Hugad the Persian. (174) Bound is Anahid who calls herself (175) Anahid the queen, bound is Pan- (176) Parinarm the subservient (?), bound is Mihraṭ, (177) the sahir that sits upon the mound of myrrh (ms 2054/43: that stands before Beṯ Mgba, fm E.2–1907: that stands before Beṯ Mgiri). (178) And bound is the pebble-spirit and the temple-spirit that (179) dwells on the mound of Šulap. Bound (180) is the lilith that rested and sits (181) and calls herself Nanai d-Nhat. (182) Bound is Grud Gusphara, the god Bruqa (183) who sits upon the bank of the (184) Tigris. Bound is Qinrati(a), the lilith, (185) daughter of Šarai, who sits upon the mound of Beṯ (186) M(a)na, who calls herself the goddess of Beṯ M(a)na. (187) She is the wife of Raia (188) Tabula (the spicer), and the adulterous (lover) of Tarmūz (= Tammūz) son of (189) Kutil. It is she that her father calls her (190) Sarasani the sorceress, and whom her mother calls (191) Amamit the beautiful. (192) Her worshipers and holy ones call her (193) The Holy Spirit, (194) and her priests and priestesses call her the goddess of (195) Beṯ M(a)na, who filled her heart with sorcery (and) (196) her mouth with fabrication and falsehood, and her forehead (197) with spells and signs (ms 2054/114 adds: in falsehood and) through the falsehood (198) and lies that she has at her disposal she leads astray (199) worlds and generations. And with (200) her male and female worshippers she does nothing (201) that is good. To the one whom she loves she grants (202) adultery and fornication, and to the one whom she loathes (203) she grants menstruation and uncleanliness (204) and smites him/her with leprosy. The one whom (205) she loves—she suspends a drum from (his) neck. The one whom she loathes—(206) she dressed36 him in leprosy and sat him (207) in the gate. She hates women on account of (208) her (ms 2054/114: their) sorcery and loves men (209) on account of her (ms 2054/114: their) adultery, apart from (ms 2054/114: She is bound and shackled and subdued by the spell and word of) the three (210) Uthras (ms 2054/114: men), the sons of light (ms 2054/114 adds: when they passed over came against her and …) for your spell (211) is granted to you and your nakedness is revealed (ms 2054/114: [and granted] to her her spells, and revealed her nakedness, to her and her sahirs and her pebble-spells

36

The bm text here moves to the past tense, while ms 2054/114 remains in the participle.

a mandaean lamella and its parallels

221

and her liliths) and smashed (212) the horns upon your head (ms 2054/114: They smashed the horns upon her head). Behold, (213) see, that I, Nuḵraia, your spells and (214) your rebukes and your oaths (215) have I given you. Do not harm me, me, Pir, (216) nor my spouse or my children. Since your spells and your rebukes (217) and your oaths have I given you, your nakedness (218) is revealed. Bound is the dev, Abugdana, (M154: the great Abugdana, the warrior), (219) who sits upon the mount of Be(ṯ) Baršartai. (220) Bound is Nirig who sits upon the mound (221) of Be(ṯ) Knariata. Bound is Gurda (M145: Grud the Cub; Wolfe: Grud Gusphra), (222) the sahir who defiles virgins (223) who sits upon the mound of Be(ṯ)lehem. (224) Bound is the stinking goddess and (225) bound is the canine (rabid?) goddess. Bound is the goddess of (226) Huzai (Khuzestan) and bound is the goddess of Qarman. (227) Bound is Šadiya the Lady, (228) bound is the rebellious Abugdana (229) and the rebellious (A)bugdanita (f.). Bound is (230) the angel of Radin (Radanu river?), the impetuous [Štug]da/Šturga (231). Bound is the Mistress of Beṯ (232) Zibna, and bound is the goddess of Māṯā (233) Ḥdetta by the [g]reat spell (234) […] And bound is the (235) go[dess who] sits on the Euphrates [and calls herself (236) Mu]lit […] (237) Fettered and boun[d] are (238) the sixty-six gods, (bm 91777 adds: bound is) (239) the phalanx of Nanai. And bound is Nanai, (240) [s]he and her seven sister[s], (241) that dwell on the Hurin, (242) the river of Beṯ Hašum. Bound is (243) Sin of Beṯ Girmai, and … (244) bound is the goddess (bm 91777 adds: that is on) the Mount of Yurat (?). (245) Bound is the goddess of Mount (246) Maskinti. Bound are the sixty (247) six idol-spirits that dwell (248) upon one river of darkness. (249) Bound is the goddess of Abugdana, (250) and bound is Zakia and Daniš and H(i)zda. (251) And bound is the goddess (252) that sits upon the graves of Isiqri (253) because she changed her form. (254) Bound is the great goddess (255) of Beṯ Abugdana. Bound is the (256) Tabula (the spicer?) of Nanai and Anahid. (257) Bound are the idol-spirits of Beṯ (258) Ṣruda. Bound is the goddess (259) of Beṯ Kuṯa, bound is the (260) goddess of Beṯ Ṭaṭi(a). Bound is (261) the goddess (of) {Qba}Qruṭba. (262) Bound is the goddess Delibat. (263) Bound is the goddess of Warda (264) of Be(ṯ) Gardadni(a) (?). Bound is the (265) goddess Delibat. Bound is the Messiah (266) that inflames dogs (267) and their horns killed pigs (ms 2054/32: and bound are the devs of Qurnis that kill pigs). (268) Bound is Ṭiṭun (ms 2054/32: and bound is (!) the devs of Ṭiṭun) and Gimar and Zamun (269) and Šmama, who sit⟨s⟩ upon the (270) roads and call themselves (271) gods (who) set firm their firewood (272) […] are all (273) the gods and goddesses and (274) angels and sahirs and temple-spirits and (275) idol-spirits and šeds and pebble-spirits (276) and devs and liliths, (277) stinking spirits and male and (278) female satans. Bound are the (279) stars of falsehood and stars (280) of fury and the lying constellations. (281) Bound are all the (282) angels of fury

222

morgenstern and abudraham

and evil spells (283) of the firmament, up to the House of (284) the Scales. They are bound in the earth, (285) the daughter of slime, up to the navel of the earth, (286) from the earth up to the very (287) end of the black (288) waters are they bound and sealed (289) and banned and condemned and convicted (290) and excommunicated. (291) Bound is their mouth and blind are (292) their eyes that they may not see for evil (293) regarding Nuḵraia any curses, (294) new or old. And deafened (295) are their ears that they may not hear (296) regarding Pīr b. Abanduḵt (297) any curses, new or (298) old. Fettered and bound are (299) their hands that they may not seize Pīr (300) and not do unto him any evil. (301) Bound and shackled are their legs (302) that they may not come against Nuḵraia and may not do (303) unto him any evil. For (304) bound is their strength, bound and (305) sealed are their hands, in the name of (306) Tgar […]aṭ the great name, (307) and in the name of Ahu Ahu Ahu (308) Ahu Ahu Ahu Ahu Ahu (309) Ahu, and in the name of Iam Iam (310) Ašar Ašar Ašar a m a m (311) and by the seal of Adan Adonai (312) ṣṣa Adonai ṣṣa and in the name of (313) Anoš Šarbiael Šriri (314) and Šriri, Ṣam and Aazʿ and Aa[z]ʿ (315) Aazʿ and by that great (316) name by which the heavens (317) and earth were sealed. By it shall you be sealed and you shall not (318) be released. And you shall not come (319) against Nuḵraia and shall not draw near to him, (320) in the name of Biatam Bitam (321) Bitam Bi[t]hum, Amen (322) Amen. May there be healing and victory (323) unto Nuḵraia Pīr b. Abanduḵt (324) and unto Hiḇil b. Mamai (325) and unto Mamai d. Marta and unto Anoš (326) b. Mamai and unto Marta (327) daughter of Mama, unto their dwelling and their residence (328) and their threshold, and Life is Victorious!

4 3. 5–7.

37

38

Notes [pʿ]ir nukraia. Pīr is usually an honorific title, though in our text is also employed as a personal name.37 bgan šuma rba ubgan mʿmra qadmaiia ‘The anathema of the great name and the anathema of the primordial word’. MüllerKessler38 translated bgan as ‘By the protection’, but the idiom abgan On this name and title, see M. Lidzbarski, ‘Ein mandäisches Amulett’, in G.C.C. Maspero (ed.), Florilegium ou recueil de travaux d’érudition dédiés à M. le Marquis Melchior de Vogüé à l’ occasion du quatrevingtième anniversaire de sa naissance (Paris, 1909), pp. 349–373 (372), and P. Gignoux, Noms propres sassanides en moyen-perse épigraphique (Wien, 1986), p. 148 s.v. Pīr. Müller-Kessler, ‘Interrelations between Mandaic Lead Scrolls and Incantation Bowls’, p. 200.

a mandaean lamella and its parallels

13.

16.

19. 20.

22.

39 40 41 42

223

qarina ʿl ‘I proclaim an anathema against’ is common in Mandaic. Compare e.g. bgan šuma rba ubgan mimra rba qa[d]maiia ʿl punaqitai lilita ‘the anathema of the great name and the anathema of the primordial word is upon Punaqitai the Lilith’. (Matisyahu 1:3– 4)39 and uhaizak agzar agzarta hibil ziua ltarmidia uamar abgan hiia uabgan manda ḏhiia uabgan mimra rba qadmaia nihuia lkul gabra {ḏ-adin} ḏ-adinqia pandama maṣbuta niṣba ‘And then Hiḇil Ziwa decreed for the priests, and said, “May the anathema of Life, and the anathema of Manda ḏ-Heyyi, and the anathema of the great primordial word be upon any man that baptises without a pandama (face covering)”’ (Sidra ḏ-Nišmata cp 45:36–38). nksia ‘slaughterers’. In M138:13 unkusia. The spellings may represent alternative forms of this category of demon based upon two alternating noun patterns: nāḵsi based upon the participle, and nākōsi based upon the nomen agentis. ʿlahia ‘gods’. The standard orthography is attested in this text once in the singular alaha (l. 182) and once in the plural alahia (l. 238). The orthography representing an i/e vowel is found another four times in our text: ʿlahia (l. 129–130, 141, 271, 273). The form with preliminary ʿ has not been recorded in the grammars and lexica of Mandaic, but we have found other examples in the epigraphic corpus, e.g. Pognon 25: 7, 8, and fm E.2–1907:11 (parallel to l. 182 of our text). mšbaq ‘to release’. Moussaieff 138: 9 reads lmišbaq. Both readings are grammatical.40 uiaqadna ‘and conflagration’. The reading is certain, but in view of ܵܵ the noun pattern (compare Syriac 焏‫ܢ‬煟‫) ܼܿܝܩ‬41 we would expect the second a to appear after the d. The standard orthography is found in the parallel from Moussaieff 138: 9 uiaqdan[a]. qninia qininia ‘every family’. The reading qnnia in M138:22 lends support to the irregular forms in bm 132947 (for regular qinia) and suggests that they are not to be emended.42

O. Abudraham, ‘Three Mandaic Incantation Bowls in the Yosef Matisyahu Collection’ (Hebrew), Leshonenu 67 (2015), pp. 59–98 (62). T. Nöldeke, Mandäische Grammatik (Halle, 1875), p. 387. M. Sokoloff, A Syriac Lexicon. (A Translation from the Latin, Correction, Expansion, and Update of C. Brockelmann’s Lexicon Syriacum) (New Jersey, 2009), 581 s.v. On such plural forms for other nouns, see Nöldeke, Mandäische Grammatik, p. 163 (§132).

224

morgenstern and abudraham

24.

bitia bitia ‘every household’. This example indicates that contra Nöldeke, this plural form is not to be regarded as a ‘schlechte Lesart’43 but is a genuine dialectal variant.44 hu|mria humria ‘every pebble-spirit’. The role of this phrase here is enigmatic. pt iuna ‘the daughter of slime (?)’. Müller-Kessler read ptihna and translated ‘I open’. The later priestly commentary Alf Trisar Šiualia reports: uhu alma ḏmn atutia rbita hu urbita mn atutia alma ḏptahil hʿ ☉ ualma ḏ-ptahil mn atutia alma ḏ-arqa ḏ-tibil pt iauna (var dc 6: iuna) ‘And that is the world that is beneath the sea (rḇiṯa), and the sea is beneath the world of Ptahil, and the world of Ptahil is beneath the world of Tiḇil, the daughter of Iauna’.45 The Mandaic dictionary tentatively relates this use of iauna to Biblical Hebrew ‫ָי ֵון‬ ‘mire’, though Macuch questioned whether the phrase arqa pt iauna is not to be derived a myth relating to iauna ‘dove’. Its derivation remains enigmatic.46 lm|{dana}dna ‘to the east’. Moussaieff 138:33 reads lmadna, and from the context, the identity of the lexeme is not in doubt. It is possible that the original spelling in bm represents the alternative form (l)mdana attested in ms 2054/83:6–7: mn mdana lmarba ‘from east to west’. lska ḏ-mia sia|uia ‘to the end of the black waters’. In the Ginza, the black waters are the birthplace of evil creations (e.g. Gy 309:11–16), including the earth (e.g. Gy 169:10–15, 268:6–7). kulhiun qinia ‘all the families’. While the precise pronunciation of this unusual form of the pronominal suffix (for standard Mandaic kulhun) cannot be determined, its occurrence three times in our text suggests that it cannot be rejected as a scribal error. The other examples are f.pl. hʿia ukulhiun šurbatẖ ‘she and all of her tribes’ (ll. 84–85) and m.pl. ʿsiria kulhiun diuia ‘bound are all the devs’ (l. 67). For the word-pair qinia/šurbana, compare qina ḏ-muta ušurbata (rurbata) ḏ-hbila ‘the tribe of death’ in Pašar Mihla (169– 170, 189–190, 200–201, 223–224, 259–260).

24–25. 32.

32–33.

34–35.

35–36.

43 44

45 46

Nöldeke, Mandäische Grammatik, p. 183 (§ 148). See O. Abudraham, A Grammar of Early Mandaic according to the Languages of the Incantation Bowls and Amulets (unpubl. diss., Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, 2017), p. 195 n. 1031. For other references to arqa pt iauna, see E.S. Drower and R. Macuch, A Mandaic Dictionary (Oxford, 1963), p. 185 s.v. iauna 2. R. Macuch, ‘Zur Grammatik und zum Wörterbuch des Mandäischen’, in idem (ed.), Zur Sprache und Literatur der Mandäer (Berlin, 1976), pp. 1–146 (13).

a mandaean lamella and its parallels

37–38.

40.

42–44.

44.

46.

47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55

225

bizbaṭ abhn ḏ-shr|ia ‘Bizbaṭ, the father of the sahirs’. The same epithet for Bizbaṭ is found in Šafta ḏ-Qaština 365, while in canonical Mandaean sources, Bizbaṭ is identified as the father Muhammad;47 see e.g. ahmaṭ br bizbaṭ sahra (Gy. 21–22).48 The form abh(u)n for abuhun was dismissed in Nöldeke’s grammar,49 but is now well attested in epigraphic sources.50 lhania // ulihania ‘servitors’. Drower and Mauch51 followed Nöldeke52 in deriving this demon class from Mandaic liha ‘net’. However, in light of forms such as ‫( ללחני‬e.g. Allard Pierson Museum: 2),53 it seems that the h (jba ḥ) was originally geminated, and the demon name is a form of Aramaic laḥḥin < *lahhinu ‘temple or court official’.54 ʿsiria ḏ-bt nbu klba ḏ-laihibia ubaiia ‘Bound are those of Beṯ Nabu the Dog that do not give yet demand’. M138 reads: ʿsiria ḏ-bit nʿklta ḏ-lihib ubaiia ‘Bound are those of the House of (Beṯ) Guile that does not give yet demands’. It is possible that nʿklta ‘guile’ represents a folk etymology of the name of the goddess Nikkal. The defective orthography of bt ‘house of’ provides clear evidence for reduction of the diphthong in the construct form of this noun. Additional examples are found in ll. 50, 104, 172. An alternative form with the elision of final -t is also common in this amulet, e.g. bia aulia (ll. 120– 121), bia bršrta˄i˄ (l. 219), bia knrita (l. 221), bia lhmia (l. 223), and bigzura (l. 145). ularšun ‘and they have not loaned’. Moussaieff 138:14 reads udla ršu ‘and who have not loaned’. The two textual witnesses employ different forms of the 3 m.pl. perfect morpheme for iii-y verbs. Such interchanges are common in epigraphic Mandaic texts.55 ḏ-ririnia ‘the drooling ones’. M138:15 reads ḏ-rirania. We interpret this as the plural of an unattested rirana ‘drooler’. However, a con-

See references in Drower and Macuch, A Mandaic Dictionary, p. 60 s.v. On this passage, see M. Lidzbarski, Das Johannesbuch der Mandäer (Giessen, 1915), p. 193 n. 3. Nöldeke, Mandäische Grammatik, p. 181 (§ 147). See C. Müller-Kessler, ‘A Mandaic Gold Amulet’, p, 86; Abudraham, A Grammar of Early Mandaic, pp. 195–196. Drower and Macuch, A Mandaic Dictionary, p. 235b. Nöldeke, Mandäische Grammatik, p. 139 (§ 117). K.A.D. Smelik, ‘An Aramaic Incantation Bowl in the Allard Pierson Museum’, Bibliotheca Orientalis 35 (1978), pp. 174–177 (175). S. Kaufman, Akkadian Influences on Aramaic (Chicago, 1974), p. 66. Abudraham, A Grammar of Early Mandaic, p. 293.

226

morgenstern and abudraham

48–50.

48–49.

50–63.

51–53.

57. 58.

56 57 58

nection cannot be ruled out with the toponyms found in bm 1957-925.1, ‫( ואיסתרא דדירוני‬l. 6) and ‫( ואסתרא דרידדני‬l. 7).56 shra ḏ-pqidilẖ ha|ṣbia ḏ-mia ukuzia ḏ-mgalia ‘the sahir who is in charge of pitchers of water and uncovered jugs’. Müller-Kessler cites these lines and translates ‘Sahra (moon demon) who commanded pitchers of water and jugs of shadows’.57 The final word is missing in her citation, but from her translation and comment (‘The letters g and ṭ are sometimes confused in the Mandaic script’) it would appear that she also read mgalia but proposed emending the text to mṭalia. However, there are no grounds for this emendation. On the prohibition in Rabbinic tradition of liquids left uncovered see m. Ter. 8:4–7. ha|ṣbia ‘pitchers’. For pitcher-spirits, see Müller-Kessler, ‘Mandaic Incantation against an Anonymous Dew,’ p. 496 following Drower and Macuch, Mandaic Dictionary, p. 126a (sic) s.v. haṣubia. ʿsiria ḏ-bt pqa shra ‘Bound are those of the House of P(a)qa, the sahir’. Through this passage, there is some confusion both between the different textual witnesses and within them over whether the nouns and verbs are in the singular or plural, i.e. whether they agree with the noun shra or the relative pronoun ḏ, which may be singular or plural. Hence in bm ʿsiria ḏ-bt pqa shra (sing.) ḏ-lbiš|ia (pl.) blaiia umksin (pl.) blaiiata uiatib (sing.) ʿl qi|qlata hrubata hinun (pl.) etc. parallels M138 shrẖ (sing. or pl.) ḏ-lbišia (pl.) blaiiẖ umksia (pl.) blaiiẖ uiatbia (pl.). ʿl qiqlata. In this case, the plural uiatbia seems preferable from the context. Similarly, in ll. 56ff.: bm ʿsir|ia (pl.) ḏ-bit alga shra (sing.) ḏ-atibia (pl.) tutia nrzu|bia parallels M138 ʿsiria (pl.) ḏ-bit alga shra (sing.) ḏ-iatib (sing.) tutia nrzubia. ḏ-lbiš|ia blaiia umksin blaiiata ‘who are clothed in rags and covered in tatters’. On blaiia and blaiiata, see the comments by MüllerKessler in her edition of this text.58 shra ‘the sahir’. Müller-Kessler reads sh{i}r⟨i⟩a. ḏ-atibia ‘who sit’. The scribe almost consistently omits the first y of the root y-t-b. In addition to this example, the y is omitted in another nine examples in various persons (see ll. 60, 163, 177, 183,

For possible identifications of these toponyms, see Levene and Bohak, ‘A List of Deities and Toponyms’, p. 65. Müller-Kessler, ‘A Mandaic Incantation against an Anonymous Dew’, Aram 22, p. 469. Müller-Kessler, ‘Interrelations between Mandaic Lead Scrolls and Incantation Bowls’, pp. 201 n. 28.

a mandaean lamella and its parallels

61–62.

64–65. 69.

70. 74. 87. 89–90.

97. 100.

59 60 61 62 63 64

227

185, 219, 220, 223 and 269). All of the examples follow the relative pronoun ḏ-. Examples presenting the first radical are rarer: uiatib (53), ḏ-|iatbia (165–166), iatib[a] (235), ḏ-iatiba (251). All the forms also show a full vowel following the second radical. Morphologically, these forms could be interpreted as active participles without the reduction or with the secondary expansion of the second vowel ( yātiḇā for expected yātəḇā), but it seems more likely that the forms are to be interpreted as representing the passive participle yətīḇā. Perhaps diyətīḇā > diʔətīḇā.59 ḏ-btia hrbi|a ‘of ruined houses’. Müller-Kessler translated ‘privies’,60 but the root h-r-b (< Aramaic ḥ-r-b < Central Semitic ḫ-r-b) does not have this meaning. ubtiaqi|a ‘and in parapets’. The meaning of this word and its occurrence in Mandaic discussed by Ford.61 kumiš. Geoffrey Herman notes that this lilith name also appears in the magic bowl corpus as a personal name (cbs 2922 [Montgomery 17]: 2, 11, 12).62 ualma ‘up to’. Müller-Kessler read alma but the u is clear to us. ḏ-bit aspnia. We may cautiously suggest that this is related to the toponym ‫ אספמיא‬found in the Babylonian Talmud.63 mšun. Identified with Mesene in Southern Iraq.64 bṭura qlia ‘Mount Qalia’ (“The Burnt Mountain”). We take this to be a toponym, but compare damit lṭura qalia ḏ-lamapiq btibil simadria ‘You are like a burned mountain that produces no blossom in the world’ (Jb. 109: 19–20). krbia ‘vehicles’. We have tentatively interpreted this as a metathesised form of rkbia. kipẖ ḏ-ʿulai. The Ulay river, today known as the Karkheh.

See J. Blau, ‘The paʿul Participle in Active Meaning’, Leshonenu 18 (1952), pp. 67–80. Cf. Müller-Kessler, ‘Dämon + ytb ‘L’, pp. 341–354 (342): ‘Aborte’. J.N. Ford, ‘Three Hapax Legomena in the Babylonian Talmud’, Le Muséon 130 (2017), pp. 1– 30 (23 n. 75). T. Ilan, Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity: Part iv: The Eastern Diaspora 330bce– 650 ce (Tübingen, 2011), p. 231. See Oppenheimer, Babylonia Judaica, p. 388. On the use of this name in the Sassanid period, see J.N. Ford, ‘A New Parallel to the Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Incantation Bowl im 76106 (Nippur 11 N 78)’, Aramaic Studies 9 (2011), 249–277 (269–270); Y. Paz, ‘ “Meishan Is Dead”: On the Historical Contexts of the Bavli’s Representations of the Jews in Southern Mesopotamia’, in G. Herman and J.L. Rubenstein (eds.), The Aggada of the Bavli and its Cultural World (Providence, 2018), pp. 47–99.

228

morgenstern and abudraham

102.

azaṭ. Also attested in im 132481: 57 (published by Zehron Nuʿmān), and in bm 91715 [Segal 084M]:4 // bm 91780 [Segal 085M]:3.65 103–104. bsiniaus bniana ḏ-bt mlaka ḏ-rima ‘in Siniaus, the edifice of the royal house of Rome’. Lidzbarski already noted that Siniauis is described in the Gy 134:6 as arqa titaita ḏ-hšuka ‘the lower land of darkness’, and cited our text in comparison.66 For mlaka, Lidzbarski read mlka, but our reading is certain. For rima, Lidzbarski read ruma. 108. nhar zptai ‘the Zaftai river’. Müller-Kessler tentatively suggests identifying this with the ‘little Zab’. It is perhaps a compound of zaḇ tatai ‘lower Zab’. Ran Zadok writes: I doubt whether it can be equated with Gk. Ζαπάτας of Xenophon, Anab. because the Semitic form of this river (and its homonym) has always been Zāb without any extension/suffix (Akkad. Zābu is with the nom. sg. marker which became obsolete in the 1st millennium bce). The more so since the Semitic form is very old and persists until nowadays. Perhaps Zaptay, which apparently ends with an adjectival suffix (originally < -āy), refers to the stream which flowed in Hit, a source of bitumen (zpt = Aramaic ‘pitch’). 114. mrbia klibia ‘the raiser of dogs’. Müller-Kessler read mrdia and translated ‘rebellious, dog-like’. While this interpretation is supported by epithets applied to the ʿstra ‘goddess’, it is problematic within the present context as the liliths here are all construed as feminine, hence we would expect these adjectival modifiers to be in the f.s. 120. šaqrat. Müller-Kessler read the parallel in bm 132168:30 as ušarmat, but though damaged, the third letter is clearly q, not m.

figure 9.1 ušaqrat (bm 132168: 30) photograph by matthew morgenstern, published here with kind permission of the trustees of the british museum

120.

65 66

{ubatnia} ubtunia ‘and in the furnaces’. Müller-Kesser read ubatnia {ʿbtnia}. We regard the sharp right-facing stroke before the n of the second word to be u, and take it to be a rewriting of the previous J.N. Ford, ‘Another Look at the Mandaic Incantation Bowl bm 91715’, Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society 29 (2002), pp. 31–47 (34). Lidzbarski, Das Johannesbuch, p. 12 n. 1.

a mandaean lamella and its parallels

121.

122.

123.

127–129.

133.

136.

67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75

229

word meaning ‘furnace’. Defective spelling following a prefixed preposition is quite common in the epigraphic corpus. See also unahid ‘and Anahid’ (l. 256), utiqata ‘and new (f.pl.)’ (l. 294).67 ʿsir mšʿha ḏ-mhiana ‘Bound is the Messiah of (sic) The Life Giver’. A reference to Jesus. Compare e.g. from the Ginza: amunʿil šumẖ uʿšu mahiana qra lnapšẖ ‘His name is Amunael (= Emanuel) and he called himself Jesus the Life-Giver’ (Gy 28:17–18).68 bqlisia ḏ-qrabul ‘in the church of Qrabul’. Compare ‫ול‬/‫רוסתקא דקרבי‬ (B24:2).69 This is the first epigraphic attestation of Greek ἐκκλησία ‘church’ in Mandaic.70 It is attested in Syriac both in the form 焏‫ܐܩܠܝܣܝ‬71 and 焏‫ܩܠܝܣܝ‬.72 ʿsiria hrša umnla ‘Bound are his sorceries and words’. From the context, we would expect hršẖ umnlẖ. Both nouns are plural, and the antecedent of the possessive pronouns would appear to be mšʿha ‘the Messiah’. Graphically, the reading with final -a is preferable, though it is not clear to what f.s. antecedent the pronouns might refer. It could perhaps be qlisia ‘the Church’. ba|qra ḏ-ʿulai baqra ḏ-krka ḏ-saluk ‘in the fortress of Karka (town) of Sloḵ’, i.e., modern Kirkuk. The repetition here from the previous line perhaps implies dittography.73 uʿl nhar simar. Ran Zadok writes: The Simar river may be identified with the modern Saimarreh (/Saymarre/) river which starts 25 km SE of Kermanshah (Media) and flows southwards via Luristan where it becomes a tributary of the Karun river; the latter is one of the main rivers of Susiana.74 dura ḏ-šina ‘the town of Šenna’. Although this would ostensibly appear to be related to jba ‫‘ דור שיני‬gums’, a term which has been extensively discussed in the literature,75 this meaning is not suited

For many additional examples, see Abudraham, A Grammar of Early Mandaic, pp. 62–63. Some manuscripts read: ʿšu mšiha mahiana ‘Jesus the Messiah, the Life-Giver’. J. Naveh, and S. Shaked, Magic Spells and Formulae (Jerusalem, 1993), pp. 133–135. Drower and Macuch, A Mandaic Dictionary, p. 413 s.v. Sokoloff, A Syriac Lexicon, 92 s.v. Bar Bahlul, Lexicon Syriacum, ed. R. Duval (Paris, 1901), 1790, s.v. On this passage, see Lidzbarski, Das Johannesbuch, p. 152 n. 3. See D.T. Potts, The Archaeology of Elam (Cambridge, 1999), p. 106. See most recently H. Mutzafi, ‘Further Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Words in Light of Neo-Aramaic’ (Hebrew) Leshonenu 81 (2017), pp. 257–275 (261–262); M. Stol, ‘Teeth and Toothache’, in S.V. Panayotov and L. Vacín (eds.), Mesopotamian Medicine and Magic (Leiden–Boston, 2018), pp. 745–770 (748).

230

morgenstern and abudraham

137.

138. 140–141. 141.

150.

151.

152.

76

77 78 79 80

81

to our context, and it is better interpreted as the region Šenna in North-Eastern Babylonia.76 hurdniata. ms 2054/29: h[ur]bnaita. Compare perhaps ‫ואימה רבה‬ ‫( דחובניא‬bm 1957-9-25.1:7), which has been identified as Ḥabbāniyya by Lecker and Zadok.77 qrunia. Geoffrey Herman has suggested connecting this to ‫קלוניא‬ mentioned in b. Yev. 115b. iama|ta ‘lakes’. The first attestation in Mandaic of the lexeme yamܵ məṯā ‘lake’. Compare Syriac ‫ܐ‬狏‫ ܼܿܝܡ‬.78 ḏ-aqira ‘of tar’. For the a between the relative pronoun and the noun qira, compare ḏ-abna ‘that he built’ (ms 2087/4 a 8), dadlibat ‘of Dilbat’ (ms 2054/106:10). ʿstra ḏ-huṣia ‘the goddess of Huṣi(a)’. Probably an unidentified toponym. Compare the enigmatic ‫( אימה רבתי הוצי הוצייא‬bm 1957-925.1:8).79 ḏ-gzra ḏ-mhla. Probably a toponym, though possibly one formed form descriptive nouns. gzra may perhaps be interpreted as an island, or alternatively, as a heap; cf. nena gizra ‘heap of wood’.80 The toponym is otherwise unknown. urdnia ‘Wardunia’. This toponym is also mentioned in the Babylonian Talmud.81 Ran Zadok adds: In view of its occurrence in Mandaic, it should be lemmatised accordingly in Oppenheim, where he prefers what now becomes an inferior variant (Wrdyn’) as lemma. In this case, it ends in the compound suffix -ūn-ya which is common in the Aramaic toponymy of the Babylonian alluvium (the base is Iranian).

See G. Herman, ‘Babylonian of Pure Lineage: Notes on Babylonian Jewish Toponymy’, in M. Piotrkowski, G. Herman and S. Dönitz (eds.), Sources and Interpretation in Ancient Judaism: Studies for Tal Ilan at Sixty (Leiden, 2019), pp. 191–228 (201–202). Apud Levene and Bohak, ‘A List of Deities and Toponyms’, p. 66. Sokoloff, A Syriac Lexicon, 576 s.v. Levene and Bohak, ‘A List of Deities and Toponyms’, p. 66. See Y. Sabar, A Jewish Neo-Aramaic Dictionary: Dialects of Amidya, Dihok, Nerwa and Zakho, Northwestern Iraq (Wiesbaden, 2002), p. 121. Reference courtesy of Professor Hezy Mutzafi, p.c. See C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Šamaš, Sîn (Sira, Sahra), Delibat (Ištar, al-ʿUzzā), und Kēwān (Kajjamānu) in den frühen mandäischen magischen Texten und bei ihren Nachbarn—Eine Bestandsaufnahme’, Isimu 20–21 (2017–2018), pp. 259–296 (272); B.Z. Eshel, Jewish Settlements in Babylonia during Talmudic Times (Hebrew) (Jerusalem, 1979), pp. 113–114; and A. Oppenheimer, Babylonia Judaica in the Talmudic Period (Wiesbaden, 1983), pp. 461–464.

a mandaean lamella and its parallels

231

155.

trbušita. This is the reading of our lamella, and it is in this form that the text was correctly cited by Müller-Kessler and Kessler.82 Their proposal to emend our text to read trbuš⟨n⟩ita based upon other instances of this name is now supported by our previously unknown parallel from iaa G:9, though the reading without n is also found in Qmaha ḏ-Ṣir Sahra (dc 43A:137). ḏ-bit zatan. Müller-Kessler read ḏ-bit zaman in both bm texts. 157. 158. amšmiš. Derived from *amat šamiš ‘the handmaiden of Šamiš’, amšmiš occurs in epigraphic Mandaic texts as a demonic name, e.g. bm 91775 [Segal 086M]: 9, 16 (bis). It is also attested as a personal name in a bilingual inscription from Edessa.83 The geminated σ in the Greek form of the name in that inscription, Αμασσαμσες, indicates that the final -t of amat was assimilated into the first š of šamiš. 159–161. ʿs|pndarmid … anahid. Demonised forms of two Zoroastrian deities. Spendārmad, daughter of Ahura Mazda, and Anahid.84 165. ḏ-luṭata lṭura ‘that cursed the mountain’. We have interpreted luṭata as the verb (for laṭta or perhaps lṭata), but the syntax here is difficult and the text may be corrupt. Regrettably, the parallel is broken at this point. 168–169. nanai ḏ-burṣip unanai ḏ-bit guzaiia. For a detailed discussion of these gods, see Müller-Kessler and Kessler, ‘Spätbabylonische Gottheiten’, pp. 75–77. 170–171. nišar ḏ-kškar. Nišar of Kaškar was first identified in Mandaic literature by Greenfield.85 171–172. ʿsir birqa ḏ-šri|a bmata bt guznaiia. The god Birqa of Guznaia has been discussed in detail by Müller-Kessler and Kessler.86 See also below, the comments by Ran Zadok on bruqa (l. 183).

82

83 84

85 86

Müller-Kessler and Kessler, ‘Spätbabylonische Gottheiten’, p. 71. The reading trbušnaita in our text presented in C. Müller-Kessler ‘The Mandaeans and the Question of Their Origin’, Aram 16 (2004), 47–60 (56) is thus incorrect. H.J.W. Drijvers and J.F. Healey, The Old Syriac Inscriptions of Edessa and Osrhoene (Leiden, Boston, Köln, 1999), pp. 157–158. See G. Herman, ‘Jewish Identity in Babylonia in the Period of the Incantation Bowls’, in D. Rivlin Katz, N. Hacham, G. Herman and L. Sagiv (eds.), A Question of Identity: Social, Political, and Historical Aspects of Identity Dynamics in Jewish and Other Contexts (Berlin and Boston, 2019), pp. 131–152 (140–141). J.C. Greenfield, ‘A Mandaic Miscellany’, Journal of the American Oriental Society 104 (1984), pp. 81–85 (81–85); and see further Paz, “Meishan Is Dead”, pp. 58–59. C. Müller-Kessler and K. Kessler, ‘Zum Kult des Wettergottes von Guzana’, in A. Erkanal et al. (eds.), Eski Yakin Dou Kültürleri Üzerine Incelemeler (Istanbul, 1995), pp. 239–244.

232

morgenstern and abudraham

176.

mhraṭ. Normally a personal name (‘descendent of Mihra’),87 it is used here as a demonic name. tila ḏ-mura ‘the mound of myrrh’. Compare ‫( הר המור‬Cant. 4:6). The variants indicate that the textual tradition is very unstable at this point, and this may be the corruption of a toponym. ḏ-nhat iati˄ba˄ uqria lnpša nanai {ḏ-xxx} ḏ-nhat ‘that rested and sits and calls herself Nanai d-Nhat’. The expression appears to be an etiology; perhaps nanai ḏ-nhat is intended to explain the origin of the syncretistic goddess Nanai Anahid.88 bruqa. Ran Zadok writes: The god Bruqa is identical with the god dBu-ru-qu of the city of Dēr, 25km. east of the Tigris. He is mentioned in an Assyrian royal inscription from 813bce.89 dBu-ru-qu probably goes back to a qatūl-formation with na vowel harmony. The theophorous element which denotes ‘lightning’ has a variation of several nominal formations: qatūl: ᵈBa-ru-qu-il(?)-lu(?)-ú, dBa-ruqu-x˩ […],90 with ū in view of dBu-ru-qu above. The divine name by itself is dBir-qu in Akkadian, i.e. of the qitl-formation like Mandaic birqa (above, ll. 171–2) which may be considered its continuant. Mandaic has mata (land) of bt (Bēt) guznaiia (the Aramaic origin of the region name Γαυζανιτις of Ptolemy) as the abode of Birqa. Macuch91 considered the qatl-formation as the original one in this case. A qutl—formation is discernible in West Semitic anthroponymy.92

177.

180–181.

183.

87 88 89

90

91 92

Gignoux, Noms propres sassanides en moyen-perse épigraphique (Wien, 1986), p. 124 n. 615 s.v. Mihrād. See M. Boyce in M. Boyce, M.L. Chaumont, C. Bier, “anāhīd,” Encyclopædia Iranica, i/9, pp. 1003–1011, available online at http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/. A.K. Grayson, Assyrian Rulers of the Early First Millennium bc i (1114–859bc) (Toronto, 1996), p. 190: Šamšī-Adad v, A.0.103.2, iii, 44′; see J.A. Brinkman, A Political History of PostKassite Babylonia (Rome, 1968), pp. 209–210. R. Zadok, ‘The Representation of Foreigners in Neo-and Late-Babylonian Legal Documents (Eighth through Second Centuries b.c.e.)’, in O. Lipschits and J. Blenkinsopp, (eds.), Judah and the Judeans in the Neo-Babylonian Period (Winona Lake, 2003), pp. 471–589 (526: A/3.1.5, 3); idem., ‘West Semites in Administrative and Epistolary Documents from Northern and Central Babylonia’ in R. Deutsch (ed.), Shlomo; Studies in Epigraphy, Iconography, History and Archaeology in Honor of Shlomo Moussaieff (Tel Aviv, 2003), pp. 255–271 (263: 1.3.5, 17). R. Macuch, Handbook of Classical and Modern Mandaic (Berlin, 1965), p. 172: 116b. For examples, see R. Zadok, ‘Syro-Palestinian Parallels to Lebanese Toponyms’, BiOr 33 (1976), pp. 304–310 (308b).

a mandaean lamella and its parallels

233

The Aramaic theonym is of the qatl-formation (later > qtal) like in Arabic93 (the qutl-formation denotes the morning star in jpa).94 185. šrai. Müller-Kessler transcribes this name as Šadai,95 but the reading with r seems certain. 187–188. ria t|bula. ms 2054/114:4–5 reads raia tbula. This deity is mentioned in a positive manner nine times in Pašar Mihla96 as the parent of the personified salt that is addressed throughout that work. The etymology would appear to be from rāʕyā ‘shepherd’ and an unattested nomen agentis form tāḇōlā ‘spicer’. 189. ḏ-abuia ‘that her father’. On the use of the 3m.s. possessive pronoun in bm 132947 compared to the feminine form abu in ms 2054/114, see Abudraham, A Grammar of Early Mandaic, p. 187. 190–195. uʿmẖ qa|rialẖ amamit šprtia dh | dhla uqdišata qrila r | ruha ḏqudša ukumrẖ ukumratẖ qrilẖ ʿstra ḏ-bit mna ‘and whom her mother calls Amamit the beautiful. Her worshipers and holy ones call her The Holy Spirit, and her priests and priestesses call her the goddess of Beṯ M(a)na’. These lines were first published by MüllerKessler,97 but with unnecessary emendations which led her to misinterpret the passage. dhla and kumrẖ are plural forms bearing the 3 f.s. possessive pronoun, hence ‘her worshippers’ and ‘her (male) priests’. 203. dištna umṭnputa ‘menstruation and uncleanliness’. Compare umṭanputa uzma udaštana (Gy 51:19). 204. ukdšalẖ {bgba} bgrba ‘and smites him/her with leprosy’. This appears to be the first attestation in Mandaic of the root k-d-š (< Aramaic k-t-š) with the specific sense of ‘smite with skin disease’. It is already attested in the Gt stem in this sense in the Genesis Apocryphon from Qumran (1QapGen 20:25). 205–206. ḏ-šni|alẖ ‘the one whom she loathes’. The reading is certain, but from the context, this should read ḏ-sni|alẖ as in line 202. It is 93

94

95 96 97

J. Fox, Semitic Noun Patterns (Winona Lake, 2003), p. 82, suggests that the original formation was qatal, but he does not list all the forms. It must be admitted that it is difficult to find a vocalised common precursor for the extremely variegated morphological spectrum presented here. Cf. M. Sokoloff, A Dictionary of Jewish Babylonian Aramaic2 (Ramat Gan, 2020), 188; idem, A Dictionary of Jewish Palestinian Aramaic of the Byzantine Period3 (Ramat Gan, 2017), p. 102a, s.v. 2# ‫ברק‬. Müller-Kessler, ‘Ištar als «Heiliger Geist»’, p. 111. Lines 150, 153, 334, 337, 355–356, 360–361, 367, 374, 383. Müller-Kessler, ‘Ištar als «Heiliger Geist»’, pp. 111–112.

234

morgenstern and abudraham

unclear if this is a phonetic variant or a misreading of a Vorlage ḏ-sani|alẖ, with Mandaic ࡔ for graphically similar ࡀࡎ. 207. baba ‘in the gate’. ms 2054/114:11 reads bbaba.98 211. uglilik šṭuatik ‘and your nakedness is revealed’. Compare galiltinin lšiṭuatẖ (Gy 118:19). 221. gurda. The reading grud gusphra in Wolfe alludes to the deity mentioned in l. 182 of the bm text. 222. ḏ-šarim ptulata ‘that defiles the virgins’. On the meaning of this expression, see M. Morgenstern, ‘Mandaic Magic Bowls in the Moussaieff Collection’, in M. and E. Lubetski (eds.), New Inscriptions and Seals Relating to the Biblical World (Atlanta, 2012), 157–170 (165). 226. huzita ‘of Huzai’, presumably Be(ṯ) Huzaia. 226–227. qrmnia|ta ‘of Qarman’ (f.), a place-name mentioned already by Strabo and later in the Babylonian Talmud.99 229. mrdnita ‘rebellious’. A new word in the Mandaic lexicon. 232–233. ma|ta h{da}datia. bm 91777 reads mata hdita. This is probably to be identified with the town Ḥdetta, Persian Nōkard ‘new town’, south of the meeting point of the Tigris and the Upper Zab.100 235–236. The order in bm 91777:17 is reverse: ʿstra ḏ-ʿl prat iatba umulit qrat lnpša ʿsiria šitin ušita alahia. 242. hšum. Müller-Kessler apparently read hšim,101 but the penultimate letter is clearly connected to the m. 243. bit girma. bm 91777 reads bit girmai. This may be identified as Beṯ Garmai in North Mesopotamia. 243. udarin. Müller-Kessler read uradin, in accordance with the parallel in bm 91777. In our opinion, the lamella reads udarin. 253. mnṭul ḏ-dmuta hlpat ‘because she changed her form’. The similarity to ybc 2364: 8 aminṭul ḏ-dmuta halpat was noted by MüllerKessler.102 259. ḏ-bit kuta. For Kuta, see Oppenheimer, Babylonia Judaica, pp. 175– 178. Geoffrey Herman notes ‫( בי כותאי‬b. Git. 45a). 98 99 100 101 102

On the loss of b in these circumstances, see Abudraham, A Grammar of Early Mandaic, p. 112. Oppenheimer, Babylonia Judaica, pp. 49, 484–485. J.M. Fiey, Assyrie Chrétienne: contribution á l’ étude de l’histoire et de la géographie ecclésiastiques et monastiques du nord de l’ Iraq, Volume 1 (Beyrouth, 1965), p. 103. The transcription reads hym, but from her translation, Hašim, we assume that this is a printing error. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘The Story of Bguzan-Lilit, Daughter of Zanay-Lilit’, Journal of the American Oriental Society 116 (1996), pp. 185–195 (191).

a mandaean lamella and its parallels

235

261.

{qba}qruṭba. Following a suggestion by Yakir Paz to identify this toponym with ‫ קורטבא‬mentioned in the Babylonian Talmud (Yev. 115b),103 we have tentatively taken the letters qba to be a false start for qra and emended the text. It is hoped that additional findings may settle this issue. 266–268. uqurn uqurnatan gaṭil hazuria ʿsr ṭṭun ‘and their horns killed pigs. Bound is Ṭiṭun’. The alternative reading from ms 2054/32, uʿsiria diuia ḏ-qurnis mgaṭlia hizuria uʿsir diuia ḏ-ṭʿṭun suggests that the text of bm may be corrupt. Yakir Paz has proposed that qurnis and ṭʿṭun may reflect the name Κρόνος and the word Τιτάν of classical mythology. Since the text is confused, it is difficult to determine if the reading of bm reflects a folk etymology of Κρόνος. ʿlahia mšria ṣibia ‘gods (who) set firm (their) firewood’. This enig271. matic phrase has a very close parallel in two Mandaic incantation bowls: abugdana ṣibia mašar ʿlauikun ‘Abugdana (who) set firm (his) firewood upon you’ (ms 2054/111: 9) // abugdana ṣʿbia mašar ʿluaikun (dcg 5: 50). As indicated by the unequivocal singular participle mašar, the plural form in our context mšria should also be derived by the root š-r-r ‘to make firm, tighten’. The precise meaning of the word ṣibia is uncertain. It could also mean ‘colours’ (cf. Sy. ̈ ‫ )ܨܒ‬but this would hardly fit the context. 焏‫ܥ‬ 285–286. lšura ḏ-a|rqa ‘the navel of the earth’. Although not mentioned in the Mandaic Dictionary, this expression is found three times in the Ginza Rabba: nʿsbẖ lšura ḏ-arqa uba ḏ-nigiṭrẖ blbab šumia kḏ ba ḏ-ninisbẖ lšura ḏ-arqa ʿtkarakbẖ naplia (Gy 97:19–20), which Lidzbarski translated ‘Er faßte den Nabel der Erde, und wollte ihn an das Herz des Himmels knüpfen. Als er den Nabel der Erde fassen wollte, umkreisten ihn die Hinfälligen’; and kḏ nisbẖ lšura ḏ-arqa uasqẖ ˁsrẖ bqumbta (Gy 98:20). The expression seems to parallel Biblical ‫( ַטבּוּר ָהָא ֶרץ‬Judges 9:37, Ezekiel 38:12). 286. ʿlma ‘up to’. A rare alternative spelling for regular alma (e.g. l. 34). The same spelling is found in two other epigraphic lamellae (Lidzbarski lamellae [= bm Dept. 2197]: 220 and ms 2087/9b: 5).104 291–302. ʿsir pumaiun … ḏ-lanitun ʿl nukraia. Compare ‫איסירין ופכירין וחתמין‬ ‫מין ליבה ומן פומ˄י˄ה ועיניהון לעוורון אודניהון ליט˄ר˄שן ריגליהון לא להלכן‬ ‫‘ בתרה דכורק ב⟩ר⟨ אפרידדי‬Bound and clasped and sealed from his heart and from his mouth, and may their eyes be blinded, may their 103 104

Oppenheimer, Babylonia Judaica, pp. 388–389. M. Morgenstern, ‘A Mandaic Lamella for the Protection of a Pregnant Woman: ms 2087/9’, Aula Orientalis 33 (2015), pp. 271–286 (274).

236

morgenstern and abudraham

ears stop up, may their feet not walk after him, Chwaraq son of Afrididay’ (bm 1957-9-25.1: 13).105 297–298. luṭata hdtia ua|tiqata ‘curses, new or (298) old’. Compare bm 19579-25.1: ‫‘ אסירין וחתימין לוטתא ונידרא חדתא ועתיקתא‬bound and sealed are the curses and the oath, new or old’ (bm 1957-9-25.1: 13).106 327–328. hiklẖ|un ‘their residence’. The Mandaic grapheme ẖ is almost exclusively employed in word-final position. We may assume that in the present example, the ẖ sign was employed because of the line break. This orthographic practice may allude to the reduction of the diphthong heḵlayon > heḵleon.107

Collections and Abbreviations bm cp dcg fm Jb Gy iaa M ms ybc

British Museum. Canonical Prayerbook of the Mandaeans. David Crown Gallery. Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge. Johannesbuch/Book of John. Ginza Yamina. Israel Antiquities Authority. Moussaieff Collection. Martin Schøyen Collection. Yale Babylonian Collection.

Acknowledgements The authors wish to express their extreme gratitude to Professor Shaul Shaked and Professor James Nathan Ford for permission to cite at length the parallels from the Martin Schøyen Collection, which have greatly enriched the present article. Ultimate responsibility for the readings of those texts as cited herein is ours. We also wish to thank Dr. Yoel Finkelman of the National Library of Israel for his assistance in obtaining access to M138. Prof. Ran Zadok, Prof. Gideon Bohak, Dr. Geoffrey Herman and Dr. Yakir Paz read drafts of this article and 105 106 107

Levene and Bohak, ‘A List of Deities and Toponyms’, p. 62. Ibid. For a similar process in a magic bowl text, see Abudraham, A Grammar of Early Mandaic, p. 24.

a mandaean lamella and its parallels

237

made valuable suggestions. This research has been supported by the Israel Science Foundation grant no. 329/17.

Bibliography O. Abudraham, A Grammar of Early Mandaic according to the Languages of the Incantation Bowls and Amulets (unpubl. diss., Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, 2017). O. Abudraham, ‘Three Mandaic Incantation Bowls in the Yosef Matisyahu Collection’ (Hebrew), Leshonenu 67 (2015), pp. 59–98. J. Blau, ‘The paʿul Participle in Active Meaning’, Leshonenu 18 (1952), pp. 67–80. M. Boyce, M.L. Chaumont, C. Bier, “anāhīd,” Encyclopædia Iranica, i/9, pp. 1003–1011, available online at http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/. J.A. Brinkman, A Political History of Post-Kassite Babylonia (Rome, 1968). H.J.W. Drijvers and J.F. Healey, The Old Syriac Inscriptions of Edessa and Osrhoene (Leiden, Boston, Köln, 1999). E.S. Drower and R. Macuch, A Mandaic Dictionary (Oxford, 1963). B.Z. Eshel, Jewish Settlements in Babylonia during Talmudic Times (Hebrew) (Jerusalem, 1979). J.M. Fiey, Assyrie Chrétienne: contribution á l’étude de l’histoire et de la géographie ecclésiastiques et monastiques du nord de l’Iraq, Volume 1 (Beyrouth, 1965). J.N. Ford, ‘A New Parallel to the Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Incantation Bowl im 76106 (Nippur 11 N 78)’, Aramaic Studies 9 (2011), 249–277. J.N. Ford, ‘Another Look at the Mandaic Incantation Bowl bm 91715’, Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society 29 (2002), pp. 31–47. J.N. Ford, ‘Notes on the Mandaic Incantation Bowls in the British Museum (review of Catalogue of the Aramaic and Mandaic Incantation Bowls in the British Museum by J.B. Segal)’, Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 26 (2002), pp. 237–272. J.N. Ford, ‘Three Hapax Legomena in the Babylonian Talmud’, Le Muséon 130 (2017), pp. 1–30. J. Fox, Semitic Noun Patterns (Winona Lake, 2003). P. Gignoux, Noms propres sassanides en moyen-perse épigraphique (Wien, 1986). A.K. Grayson, Assyrian Rulers of the Early First Millennium bc i (1114–859bc) (Toronto, 1996) J.C. Greenfield, ‘A Mandaic Miscellany’, Journal of the American Oriental Society 104 (1984), pp. 81–85 G. Herman, ‘Babylonian of Pure Lineage: Notes on Babylonian Jewish Toponymy’, in M. Piotrkowski, G. Herman and S. Dönitz (eds.), Sources and Interpretation in Ancient Judaism: Studies for Tal Ilan at Sixty (Leiden, 2019), pp. 191–228. G. Herman, ‘Jewish Identity in Babylonia in the Period of the Incantation Bowls’, in

238

morgenstern and abudraham

D. Rivlin Katz, N. Hacham, G. Herman and L. Sagiv (eds.), A Question of Identity: Social, Political, and Historical Aspects of Identity Dynamics in Jewish and Other Contexts (Berlin and Boston, 2019), pp. 131–152. T. Ilan, Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity: Part iv: The Eastern Diaspora 330bce– 650ce (Tübingen, 2011). S. Kaufman, Akkadian Influences on Aramaic (Chicago, 1974). D. Levene and G. Bohak, ‘A Babylonian Jewish Aramaic Incantation Bowl with a List of Deities and Toponyms’, Jewish Studies Quarterly 19 (2012), pp. 56–72. M. Lidzbarski, Das Johannesbuch der Mandäer (Giessen, 1915). M. Lidzbarski, ‘Ein mandäisches Amulett’, in G.C.C. Maspero (ed.), Florilegium ou recueil de travaux d’érudition dédiés à M. le Marquis Melchior de Vogüé à l’occasion du quatrevingtième anniversaire de sa naissance (Paris, 1909), pp. 349–373. R. Macuch, Handbook of Classical and Modern Mandaic (Berlin, 1965). R. Macuch, ‘Zur Grammatik und zum Wörterbuch des Mandäischen’, in idem (ed.), Zur Sprache und Literatur der Mandäer (Berlin, 1976), pp. 1–146. M. Morgenstern, ‘Mandaic Magic Bowls in the Moussaieff Collection’, in M. Lubetski and E. Lubetski (eds.), New Inscriptions and Seals Relating to the Biblical World (Atlanta, 2012), pp. 157–170. M. Morgenstern, ‘A Mandaic Lamella for the Protection of a Pregnant Woman: ms 2087/9’, Aula Orientalis 33 (2015), pp. 271–286. M. Morgenstern, ‘Five Mandaic Magic Bowls from the Moussaieff Collection’, Eretz Israel 34 (2021; Ada Yardeni Memorial Volume), pp. 106–122. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘A Mandaic Gold Amulet in the British Museum’, Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 311 (1998), pp. 83–88. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘A Mandaic Incantation against an Anonymous Dew Causing Fright (Drower Collection 20 and its Variant dc 43 E)’, Aram 22 (2010), pp. 453–476 C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Aramäische Beschwörungen und astronomische Omina in nachbabylonischer Zeit. Das Fortleben mesopotamischer Kultur im Vorderen Orient’, in J. Renger (ed.), Babylon: Focus Mesopotamischer Geschichte, Wiege früher Gelehrsamkeit, Mythos in der Moderne. 2. Internationales Colloquium der Deutschen OrientGesellschaft 24.–26. März 1998 in Berlin (Berlin, 1999), pp. 427–443. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Dämon + ytb ‘L—Ein Krankheitsdämon. Eine Studie zu aramäischen Beschwörungen medizinischen Inhalts’, in B. Böck, E. Cancik-Kirschbaum, and T. Richter (eds.) Munuscula Mesopotamica. Festschrift für Johannes (Münster, 1999). C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Dan(h)iš—Gott und Dämon’, in J. Marzahn and H. Neumann (eds.), Assyriologica et Semitica. Festschrift für Joachim Oelsner anläßlich seines 65. Geburtstages (Münster, 2000), pp. 311–318. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Die Zauberschalensammlung des British Museum’, Archiv für Orientforschung 48/49 (2002), pp. 115–145.

a mandaean lamella and its parallels

239

C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Interrelations between Mandaic Lead Scrolls and Incantation Bowls’, in T. Abusch and K. van der Toorn (eds.), Mesopotamian Magic: Textual Historical, and Interpretative Perspectives (Groningen, 1999), pp. 197–209. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Ištar als «Heiliger Geist»’, n.a.b.u. (1998), pp. 111–112. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘More on Puzzling Words and Spellings in Aramaic Incantation Bowls and Related Texts’, Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies 75 (2012), pp. 1–31. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Phraseology in Mandaic Incantations and Its Rendering in Various Eastern Aramaic Dialects. A Collection of Magic Terminology’, Aram 11–12 (1999/ 2000), pp. 293–310. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Šamaš, Sîn (Sira, Sahra), Delibat (Ištar, al-ʿUzzā), und Kēwān (Kajjamānu) in den frühen mandäischen magischen Texten und bei ihren Nachbarn— Eine Bestandsaufnahme’, Isimu 20–21 (2017–2018), pp. 259–296. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘The Mandaeans and the Question of Their Origin’, Aram 16 (2004), 47–60. C. Müller-Kessler, ‘The Story of Bguzan-Lilit, Daughter of Zanay-Lilit’, Journal of the American Oriental Society 116 (1996), pp. 185–195. C. Müller-Kessler and K. Kessler, ‘Spätbabylonische Gottheiten in spätantiken mandäischen Texten’, Zeitschrift für Assyriologie 89 (1999), pp. 65–87. C. Müller-Kessler and K. Kessler, ‘Zum Kult des Wettergottes von Guzana’, in A. Erkanal et al. (eds.), Eski Yakin Dou Kültürleri Üzerine Incelemeler (Istanbul, 1995), pp. 239– 244 H. Mutzafi, ‘Further Jewish Babylonian Aramaic Words in Light of Neo-Aramaic’ (Hebrew) Leshonenu 81 (2017), pp. 257–275. J. Naveh, and S. Shaked, Magic Spells and Formulae (Jerusalem, 1993). T. Nöldeke, Mandäische Grammatik (Halle, 1875). A. Oppenheimer, Babylonia Judaica in the Talmudic Period (Wiesbaden, 1983). Y. Paz, ‘“Meishan Is Dead”: On the Historical Contexts of the Bavli’s Representations of the Jews in Southern Mesopotamia’, in G. Herman and J.L. Rubenstein (eds.), The Aggada of the Bavli and its Cultural World (Providence, 2018), pp. 47–99. D.T. Potts, The Archaeology of Elam (Cambridge, 1999). Y. Sabar, A Jewish Neo-Aramaic Dictionary: Dialects of Amidya, Dihok, Nerwa and Zakho, Northwestern Iraq (Wiesbaden, 2002). J.B. Segal, Catalogue of the Aramaic and Mandaic Incantation Bowls in the British Museum (London, 2000). K.A.D. Smelik, ‘An Aramaic Incantation Bowl in the Allard Pierson Museum’, Bibliotheca Orientalis 35 (1978), pp. 174–177. M. Sokoloff, A Syriac Lexicon. (A Translation from the Latin, Correction, Expansion, and Update of C. Brockelmann’s Lexicon Syriacum) (New Jersey, 2009). M. Stol, ‘Teeth and Toothache’, in S.V. Panayotov and L. Vacín (eds.), Mesopotamian Medicine and Magic (Leiden-Boston, 2018), pp. 745–770.

240

morgenstern and abudraham

R. Zadok, ‘Syro-Palestinian Parallels to Lebanese Toponyms’, BiOr 33 (1976), pp. 304– 310. R. Zadok, ‘The Representation of Foreigners in Neo-and Late-Babylonian Legal Documents (Eighth through Second Centuries b.c.e.)’, in O. Lipschits and J. Blenkinsopp, (eds.), Judah and the Judeans in the Neo-Babylonian Period (Winona Lake, 2003), pp. 471–589. R. Zadok, ‘West Semites in Administrative and Epistolary Documents from Northern and Central Babylonia’ in R. Deutsch (ed.), Shlomo; Studies in Epigraphy, Iconography, History and Archaeology in Honor of Shlomo Moussaieff (Tel Aviv, 2003), pp. 255–271.

Index of Texts Bible Hebrew Bible Gen 2:19–20 6–9 6:1–4 Exod 3:14 14:21–22 Num 22 Jer 17:10 Eze 38:2–6 Pss 7:13–14 19:13 22:2 22:2–3 23:4 24:7–10 29:5 29:7 29:9 37:15 46 46:9 91 91:5 97:6 102:19–20 109:6 121 146:7 Cant 4:6 New Testament Matt 4:23 4:23–24 6:9–13 8 9:35

115 120 157 52 106 155–156 119 108 101 177 102 177 179 132 132 101 101, 178 102 177–178 123 177 193 177, 193 121 123 123 193 123 232 115 149, 163, 185 189 172–174, 191 179 163, 185, 189

10:1 10:7–10 11 11:11 11:23 14:14 21 28:18–20 Mark 1:32–34 1:39 3:10–11 3:15 5:1–20 6:5 6:7 6:13 11 16:15–18 Luke 2:14 6:18–19 7:21 8:26–39 9:1–2 10:15 10:17–20 12:47 24:39 John 1:1–5 1:6–15 Acts 2:24 3:6–8 3:16 5:15 8:7 9:34 14:8–10 28:8–9 Rom 8:29

185, 190 176 179 186 101 189 117 176 189 189 189 190 98 189 190 176, 190 117 176, 190 172–174 189 189 98 190 101 190 187 42 175–176, 180, 191 175 188 190 190 190 190 190 190 190 186

242 1Cor 15:57 Eph 6:10–17 Col 1:15

index of texts

188 186

Heb 1:6 Rev 3:14

186 186

186

Jewish texts Mishnah Ter. 8:4–7

Book of Asaph the Physician 52 226

Babylonian Talmud 2 Git. 45a Yev. 115b

234 230, 234

Dead Sea Scrolls 1QapGen 20:25 233 Astronomical Book (Enochic) 44 Jubilees 52 Sefer Shimmush Tehillim 101

Syriac texts Acts of Simon Magus 26

Book of Dream Interpretation 26

Anathema of Mar Abdisho 10, 24, 170

Book of Fortunes and Spells 26

Anathema of the Gospel 10, 172, 174–175, 177, 179– 180, 191

Book of Governors 101–102

Aphrahat Demonstrations

2

Barhebraeus Book of Rays 91 Book of the Cream of Wisdom 38 Book of all the Organs of the Human Body 26 Book of Astrology

26

Book of Local Medicines 35 Book of Medicines 2, 9, 25–27, 31, 33–39, 51; see also Budge, Book of Medicines Book of Omens

26

Book of Protection 9–10, 23–24, 26, 31, 33–34, 36–39, 77–95, 99–126, 129, 133, 169–181, 185, 193; see also Gollancz, Book of Protection

243

index of texts Book of Sorcery

26

Book of the Chaldaeans 42–44 Book of the Laws of the Countries 41–42, 45 Book of Unbinding Sorcery 26 Cave of Treasures

131, 133, 171, 174, 176, 179, 193–196 Gollancz Codex B 85, 102–103, 115, 171, 193, 195–197 Gollancz Codex C 102–103, 115, 171, 185, 192–195 Book of Protection 18, 22, 34, 79, 84–85, 91– 92, 103, 110, 124, 192

50

Gollancz Gollancz Codex A 84–87, 100–104, 112–115, 119–121, 124–128, 130–

Solomon of Basra Book of the Bee

93

Mandaic texts Asfar Malwašia (Book of the Signs of the Zodiac) 43–44 Ginza Gy 28:17–18 51:19 97:19–20

229 233 235

98:20 118:19 134:6 169:10–15 268:6–7 309:11–16

235 234 228 224 224 224

Sidra ḏ-Nišmata

223

Kyranides

86

Greek and Latin texts Galen Art of Medicine

24

Geoponica

129

Greek magical papyri pgm xii 103 xiii 148 Hesiod Theogony 173–184

116

Philo De mutatione nominum 202 119 Testament of Solomon 111, 131

244

index of texts

Manuscripts Archaeology Department of the Civil Administration T27983 196 T27986 183, 194 T27989 183–185 T27993 183 T27996 184 T27997 184 Assad Collection 17 18 19 Paper roll Talisman

85, 88, 125 85 85 97 99, 110–111

Bodleian Library, Oxford ms. syr. g 3 97, 129 British Library, London bl Or. 2084 92 bl Or. 4434 35, 92, 106, 111, 113–114, 116, 119–122, 129–130, 132 bl Or. 5281 93, 110, 112, 119, 121–123, 130 bl Or. 5442 93–94, 102 bl Or. 6673 34, 85–86, 102, 104, 106, 113, 115, 125, 129, 133, 171 bl Or. 9360 25, 34, 37, 95

Bibliotheca Apostolica Vaticana, Vatican City Barb. gr. 311 118 Vat. sir. 469 95

British Museum, London bm 91712 183–184, 187 bm 91715 228 bm 91718 184, 187 bm 91775 231 bm 91777 205, 234 bm 91780 228 bm 117882 184 bm 132168 204, 219, 228 bm 132947 202–236 bm 132954 202–236 bm 132957 202–236 bm 1957–9–25.1 205, 226, 230, 235–236

Bibliothèque Centrale de l’ Université SaintEsprit de Kaslik, Kaslik ibc 2 187 ibc 3 158, 185–186

Cadbury Research Library, Birmingham Mingana 316 25, 34, 82, 103, 115, 171 Mingana 583 25, 34, 82, 102, 104, 106, 113–115, 125, 129, 171

Bibliothèque du Musée Calvet ms. 3858 95

Cambridge University Library ms. Add. 1167 91, 124 ms. Add. 2055 83 ms. Add. 3086 (Gollancz Codex C) 34, 85, 171, 177 ms. Or. 2480 98–99, 101 t-s ns 322.10 109–110, 112

Beinecke Library, Yale University Hartford Seminary 3 87, 103, 108, 115, 122 Bible Lands Museum, Jerusalem blmj 0070 183–186, 188

Bibliothèque nationale de France, Paris ms. Syriaque 325 18–19 ms. Syriaque 347 25, 34, 87, 103, 171–172, 174–175, 177 ms. Syriaque 400/1–3 99, 101, 129, 154, 158–160, 182–184, 186–187 ms. Syriaque 424–425 35, 94–95, 116–117, 122, 131

Catholic Cathedral, Mardin 22 94 Catholic University of America, Washington DC H156 184, 186, 195

245

index of texts David Crown Gallery dcg 4 205 dcg 5 235 Davidovitz Collection Bowl 6 186 Bowl 8 185 Dominican Friars, Mosul 121 103 417 86–87, 103, 106, 108, 111, 113–115, 121–122, 127, 131, 171, 176–178, 180 Drower Collection dc 43A 231 Finnish National Museum, Helsinki vk 5738:3 184, 196 Frau Professor Hilprecht Collection of Babylonian Antiquities, Jena hs 3005 196 hs 3018 184 hs 3039 183–184, 196 hs 3053 184 hs 3056 184 Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary, Evanston Styberg Library Archives Syriac 1 84, 103, 115, 121, 129, 131 Houghton Library, Harvard University P.Oxy. viii 149 Syr. 156 25, 83, 102, 104, 106, 113–115, 119, 122, 129, 171, 176 Syr. 158 96 Syr. 159 96, 129, 171 Syr. 160 25, 83, 86, 102, 104, 106, 113, 115, 122–123, 125, 129, 171, 176 Syr. 161 91–92 Syr. 162 25, 83–84, 103, 123–124, 131, 171, 177 Syr. 163 25, 77, 84, 103, 106, 108, 113–114, 120, 130, 171, 174– 176, 178–180

Syr. 165 Syr. 166

25, 96, 171 102

Institute of Oriental Studies, St Petersburg Osnovnoy fond 4 88, 103, 109–112, 122–123, 128, 133 Iraq Museum, Baghdad im 41382 187 im 44107 187 im 132481 228 im 142513 158, 187 im 60960 184, 196 Iraqi Department of Antiquities and Heritage, Baghdad 30535 81 Israel Antiquities Authority Mandaic G 205, 231 96–9173 98–99, 101 John Rylands University Library of Manchester ms. Syr. 44 35, 94 ms. Syr. 52 34, 77, 86, 102–103, 106, 128, 130, 171, 176, 178 Johns Hopkins University Archaeological Museum, Baltimore 4 N 161 158, 187 Louvre, Paris ao 17.284

183–184, 193

Matenadaran Institute of Ancient Manuscripts, Yerevan Syriac ms. 10 90, 102, 113, 121–122, 131 Syriac ms. 19 90, 103, 106, 113, 124 Syriac rot. 9–90 98, 129 Syriac rot. 72a 97–98 Syriac rot. 72b 98 Matisyahu Collection Bowl 1 223 Meryem Ana Kilisesi, Diyarbakir 225 92, 121, 123, 129

246

index of texts

Morgan Library and Museum, New York P.Amh. i 132 Moussaieff Collection M138 204, 218, 223–226 M154 205 M155 185 M163 186 Museo Nazionale d’ Arte Orientale, Rome IsIAO 5206 187, 197 National Library of Greece, Athens 1265 132 National Library of Russia, St Petersburg Gr. 575 118 Syriac New Series 18 88, 104, 106, 108, 113–114, 128 National Museum of Lebanon, Beirut 1 96, 124, 129, 192, 194, 197 2 96, 124, 192, 197 Naveh and Shaked, Amulets and Magic Bowls Amulet 6 98 New York Public Library MssCol 2941/2 87, 102, 113–115, 118, 122 MssCol 2941/3 87, 102, 104, 106, 108, 115 MssCol 2941/4 97, 125, 129 Oriental Institute, Chicago A12093 92, 118 Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Vienna cod. med. gr. 45 132 cod. syr. 7 90, 102, 108, 115, 122, 171, 175–176 Princeton University Library Syriac 2 88, 102, 104, 106, 115 qacct 149

35

Sado Collection no. 1

88–89, 124

no. 5 no. 6 no. 11 no. 14 no. 20 no. 26

89 89 89 89 89–90 90, 124

Schøyen Collection, Oslo ms 1928/54 183, 185–186 ms 2054/14 205 ms 2054/19 205 ms 2054/23 205 ms 2054/29 205, 230 ms 2054/32 205, 235 ms 2054/83 224 ms 2054/106 230 ms 2054/111 235 ms 2054/114 205, 220, 233 ms 2055/19 194 ms 2055/24 195 ms 2087/4 230 ms 2087/9b 235 Smithsonian Institution, Washington DC ao 207964-O 156–158, 160 ao 27064-O 183–184, 187, 194 Staatsbibliothek, Berlin ms. or. fol. 3119 35 Sachau 1 90–91 Sachau 95 25, 34, 81–82, 102, 104, 106, 115, 125, 129, 171, 174, 176, 179 Sachau 218 91, 101 Sachau 327 91, 101 Sachau 553 25, 34, 82, 102, 104, 106, 115, 125, 129, 171, 176 University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology cbs 2922 227 cbs 2933 196 cbs 2943 184 cbs 8826 183–184 cbs 9008 183–184 cbs 9012 151–156, 158, 183–185, 187, 194–195 cbs 16018 184 cbs 16019 184

247

index of texts cbs 16086 cbs 16097 cbs 8548899

184 154, 193 184

Vorderasiatisches Museum, Berlin VABab 2813 + VABab 2814 187 va 2418 196 va 3383 194

Wolfe Collection Wolfe 15

185

Yale Babylonian Collection ybc 2364 234 Yousif Mirkis Collection Ar. no. 1 96 Ar. no. 2 96–97 Ar. no. 3 97

Modern authors Badger The Nestorians and their Rituals 14

Montgomery Aramaic Incantation Texts 17–18

Budge Book of Medicines

Renan De Philosophia Peripatetica 14–15

18, 24–26, 34–37, 39 Durkheim Les formes élémentaires 16 Frazer The Golden Bough 16

Wright Introduction to Syriac Literature 15, 19

Index of Subjects ʿAbdišoʿ bar Brikha 38 Abgar the Great 41, 47 Abousamra, G. 24, 58, 96, 98, 102, 154 Abrasax 153 Abudraham, O. 58 acculturation 38–40, 51, 64, 66–69 Achaemenid Empire 47–49 Adam 111, 120, 122, 129, 172–174, 193 Prayer of 170, 172–174, 191 Alexander the Great 49 al-Jeloo, N. 26, 33–34, 36, 80 Allotte de La Fuÿe, F.-M. 17 al-Naqashbandi, U. 81 American Schools of Oriental Research 146 Amida 124 amulets 5, 10, 14, 17, 22–27, 57, 77–81, 86, 94–101, 110, 112–113, 115, 121, 124–126, 129, 131, 141–144, 146–150, 154, 158, 159–163, 169–183, 185, 187–197 Greek 62, 131, 154 use of Bible 10, 14, 101, 141–143, 146–163, 172–180, 191, 193 written by clergy 14, 32–34, 36–37, 40, 51–52, 78–79, 169 Aneuis 118 Angel of Death 109 angels and angelology 126, 130, 153, 174, 182, 188, 194–195 Prayer of Angels 172–174, 191 anthropology 15–16, 20, 41, 150 Aphrahat 2 apostles 106, 113–114, 190 Appian of Alexandria 50 Arabic 33, 80, 100, 122 Aristotle/Aristotelianism 38 Armenia 41, 46, 188 āšipus 31, 47–51 Assad, E.M. 85, 97, 99 astrolabes 43 astrology/astronomy 18, 24, 26–27, 35, 39, 41–45, 47, 49–50, 93–94 Akkadian 42–45, 47, 49 Arabic 27 Hebrew 27 Jewish Aramaic 43–44

Mandaic 27, 43–44 Syriac 42–45, 93–94 asûs 47–48, 51 Azariah 193–194 Azerbaijan 78 Babylon 43, 49–50, 156 Babylonia 41, 43, 45, 49, 51, 67–71, 149, 156, 229 backache 103, 131 Badger, G.P. 2, 13–15, 32–34, 36, 78, 102, 123, 190 Baghdad 33, 39, 42, 81, 128 Balaam 118–119 Balicka-Witakowska, E. 23, 86 baptism 187 Bardaiṣan of Edessa 40–47, 50 followers of 46, 50 Barhebraeus 38, 42 bārû 48, 51 Bcheiry, I. 87, 97 Bethlehem 126 Bhayro, S. 21, 24–25, 27, 69, 124, 142, 195 Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery 59 blindness (full and partial) 116–117 Bohak, G. 21, 65, 148, 151, 162 boils 126–127 Bolz, S. 22 Borsippa 43 bowls see magic bowls Boyce, M. 48–50 breastfeeding 117 Briquel-Chatonnet, F. 95 British Empire 15–16 British Library 81 British Museum 59, 202 Brock, S.P. 64, 81, 99 Brockelmann, C. 37 Budge, E.A.W. 18–19, 24, 26, 34–37, 39 Cairo Geniza 109 calendars 18, 35, 44 Capernaum 101, 179 Carlson, T.A. 161 Chabot, J.-B. 95 Chaldaeans 49–50

249

index of subjects childbirth 99, 109–111, 121, 195–196 Christianity Church of England 13 contemporary middle-eastern 7, 14, 23, 31, 33, 36–37, 40, 133, 182, 187–188, 190 deacons 26, 33, 35, 51, 169 late-antique 9–10, 26, 31, 40, 46, 52–53, 60, 63, 151 martyrs 115, 122 medieval 9–10, 31, 40, 50 missionaries 124 priests 9, 26, 31–34, 36–38, 40, 45–46, 50–53, 78–79, 102, 169, 180, 191 saints 101, 106, 112–113, 115, 131, 171, 176 Syriac 9, 31–32, 38–40, 45–46, 50–53, 64, 78, 131, 169 Christian Palestinian Aramaic 182 chronography 38 Clemons, J.T. 87, 92 clients see magic, clients Coakley, J.F. 86, 94, 98 colic 118–119 colonialism 15–19 Constantinople 38 convents 33 Cook, S.A. 83 cross (sign of) 183–184, 195 crucifixion 130 Cyprian (Saint) 122, 131 Prayer of 130 Damascus 39–40 Dandamayev, M.A. 49 Dandini, J. 190 Daniel 193–194 Darwin, C. 15 Davidowitz Collection 58 Dead Sea Scrolls 44 decanal stars 42 de Bruyn, T. 142, 148–149, 151, 154–155 Democritus 129 demons and demonology 5, 63, 71, 99–100, 116, 123–124, 126, 131, 146, 161, 169–170, 188, 192–197, 202 Desreumaux, A. 95 Dijkstra, J.H.F. 148 divination 18, 26, 35, 39, 47, 49–50, 78, 92– 95, 100, 122 divorce (magic) 63–64, 66–68

dogs (biting) 119–120 dream interpretation 49, 92–93, 95, 122 Drijvers, H.J.W. 47 Drower, E.S. 225 druggists 31 Durkheim, É. 16 Eden, Garden of 111–114, 118, 172, 193 Edessa 41, 231 Egypt 128, 131, 147–149, 154, 161, 193 Elijah (biblical prophet) 177 Elijah, bishop of Mokan 101–102 Eliya of Nisibis 38 Ellis, T. 17 Enlil 109 Enosh 121 Ephrem 40 Eve 129, 172–173 Evil Eye 80, 99, 117, 170 exorcism 47–48, 189–191, 195 Falconer, J. 87 famine 108 fever 99, 130–131 figurines 5 First World War 20, 26 folk medicine 2, 18, 24, 27, 31, 35 Ford, J.N. 58–59, 65, 184–185, 227 Frankfurter, D. 4–5, 143, 149–151, 154–156, 161 Frazer, J. 16 Furlani, G. 92–94 Gabriel (angel) 110–111, 114, 116, 130–131, 194– 195 Gager, J.G. 20 Gaia 116 Galen 18–19, 24, 27, 35 Galilee 163 Garshuni 78, 92, 94–95, 122–123, 190 Geller, M.J. 22, 154 gems (magic) 5 Georgia 188 geṭ see divorce (magic) Gignoux, P. 21, 24, 99, 158, 182, 187 Gnosticism 60, 128 Gog and Magog 101, 178 Gollancz, H. 17–18, 22, 34, 79–80, 84, 86, 101–104, 106, 110, 113–115, 118, 120–122,

250 Gollancz, H. (cont.) 124–125, 127, 133, 175, 189, 192 Gordon, C.H. 62–63 Gorea, M. 59, 95, 154 Goshen-Gottstein, M.H. 83–84, 92, 96 Gottheil, R.J.H. 18–19, 126–127 Graham, W.A. 150 grammar 33 Greek iatrosophia 38 literature 3, 19, 49–50 magic 38, 62, 101, 118, 125–127, 129–130, 147–148, 154 medicine 18–19, 27, 38, 45 mythology 116 Greenfield, J.C. 67, 231 Grill, S. 90 gynaecology 109–111 Hagar, sons of 133 Hall, I.H. 17 Hamilton, V.P. 21, 154 Hammond, D. 20–21 Hananiah 193–194 handbooks 5, 10, 14, 17, 22–25, 31, 33–38, 77–95, 110, 125, 128–129, 169, 188–197 Ḥanina ben Dosa 126, 197 Harrak, A. 81 Harviainen, T. 21, 62, 65 Hazard, W.H. 17, 79, 96, 189 headache 99 hemerologies 18, 35 herbalists 31, 47 Herman, G. 227, 230, 234 Herod 126, 130 Hillah (Babylonia) 156 Hippocrates 19 historiolae 143, 149–150, 155–158, 193–194 Hubert, H. 16 Hunter, E.C.D. 22–23, 79, 82, 85–86, 96–97, 171 hydromancy 146 Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah 39 Ibn al-Muṭrān 39–40 Ibn Jazlah 42 Ibn Siqlāb 39 Ilan, T. 66 illness 63, 66, 71, 99, 106, 188, 196

index of subjects impotence 119, 132 incantation bowls see magic bowls infection 130 inflammation 127 insomnia 99 Iran 78, 158, 182, 188 Iraq 34, 78, 145, 182, 188, 227 Iraq Museum 59 Isḥaq of Antioch 40, 190 Islam 52, 78, 151, 182 Israelites 193 Jannes and Jambres 77 Jason the Argonaut 127 Jeremiah 193 Jerusalem 39, 59, 116–118, 120, 126, 131 Jesus Christ 42, 51, 62, 65, 98, 108–111, 113– 114, 117, 120, 126, 130, 132, 142, 149, 151, 153–156, 162–163, 169, 172–173, 177, 179, 184–186, 188–190, 229 Jews/Judaism Enochic traditions 52, 67, 142 graves 130 in Babylonia 3, 51–53, 60, 63 judges 52 literature 64, 142 liturgy 147, 149, 197 mysticism 67 priests 52 rabbis 52 relationship with 1–3, 9, 22, 63–71, 101, 122, 126, 129 scribes 52–53, 142 talmudic traditions 161 jinn 123 John the Baptist 106, 115, 130, 179, 186, 191 John the Evangelist 115 Joisten-Pruschke, A. 59 Jonah 193 Joseph 193 Joshua b. Peraḥia 62, 67, 153–154, 197 Judaism see Jews/Judaism Julius Africanus 41 Juusola, H. 22 kalû 50 Kayser, C. 91, 101 Kessel, G. 78, 89–90, 92 Kessler, K. 202, 230–231

index of subjects Khuzestan 182 Kirkuk 80 Kish 59 Korsvoll, N.H. 22, 99 Kouriyhe, Y. 95 Kramer, K. 79 Kronos 116, 127, 235 Krueger, D. 147, 151 Kurdistan 78, 190 Kutha 43 Lacerenza, G. 65, 68 lamellae 182–183, 202–236 Langer, R. 147–148 Lebanon 24, 124, 170, 187, 190–192 Legion (demon) 98 Levene, D. 61, 185, 195 Levine, B. 153 Librairie Michel Bouvier 59 Lidzbarski, M. 17, 58, 228, 235 Lied, L.I. 99 Lilith 121, 196 literacy 32–33, 39, 71 Lizan 79 loanwords Akkadian 27 Arabic 100 Greek 27, 100 Iranian 27, 67 logic 33, 38 Luke (Saint) 122, 131–132 Luristan 81, 229 Lyavdansky, A. 23, 171 Macler, F. 17, 79, 88, 93 Macomber, W.F. 84 Macuch, R. 206, 224–225, 232 madness 123 magi 31, 47–51 magic against weapons 171–172, 177–181 aggressive 122–123, 130, 146, 170–171 Akkadian 5, 27, 47, 125, 171 and law 3 and religion 14, 16, 20–21, 61–62, 141–142, 146–147, 158 Arabic 4, 27, 78, 80, 100, 122 Christian 7, 22, 32, 40, 62, 65, 78, 100– 101, 122, 151, 182–183, 192

251 clients 7, 32–33, 62, 65, 69, 78, 100, 169, 180, 182, 187, 191 continuity 10, 51 Coptic 128 definition of 4–8, 16–17, 20–21, 57, 101 economic 122–123 Egyptian 5, 128 erotic 123, 128 Ethiopic 4, 27 grace and favour 128 Hebrew 27, 109 in popular culture 17 in Syriac Studies 1–3, 8–9, 13–14, 17, 19– 27, 32–35, 38–39, 57–58, 63, 77–79 Iranian 126–127 Islamic 100, 151, 171 Jewish 5, 21, 27, 51–53, 62–67, 122, 148, 171, 195 Jewish Aramaic 109, 125, 130, 192 Latin 129–130 Mandaic 5, 10–11, 27, 62, 109, 126, 128, 192, 202–236 performativity and performative statements 66, 150 practitioners 7, 26, 32–33, 40, 47, 49, 51, 62, 65, 68–69, 78, 100, 102, 169, 180, 188, 191 precedent 151, 162 pre-Christian 40, 49, 51, 171 Sumerian 5, 109, 171 texts, editing of 7–8, 170 wand 111–112 magic bowls 1–3, 5, 9, 17, 21–22, 25–26, 51– 53, 57–71, 80, 125–126, 141–142, 144–146, 148, 151–158, 182–189, 191–197, 202– 205 clients 187 controversy 146 date 146 designs on 183–184, 186 Esṭrangela 63, 144, 156, 183 excavation 145–146 iconography 26 Jewish Aramaic 51–53, 63–67, 80, 125– 126, 184, 186–188, 192–196, 205 Mandaic 11, 63, 188, 192, 202–205 Manichaean 63, 144, 152, 183, 195 private nature of 61, 69 provenance 146

252 scripts employed 63, 144 Syriac, language of 2, 22, 63, 67–68 use of Bible 10, 142, 146, 186–187, 193 use of liturgy 187 magic scrolls 2, 25, 169, 182, 188–197 Maimonides 44 Malabar 91, 124 Mamluks 192 Mandaeans 43, 60, 70, 128, 197, 202–236 Mandaic see magic, Mandaic and magic bowls, Mandaic Mani and Manichaeism 46, 60, 70 manuals (magic) see handbooks (magic) Mardeen 33 Margoliouth, G. 92–94 marital problems 122 Marx, D. 195 Mary, mother of Christ 106, 109, 114, 169, 179, 185, 191, 195 Mar Zia 103–104, 106–108, 112–113 mathematics 18, 39 Mauss, M. 16, 20 McCollum, A. 94 Medeia 127 medicine 2, 9, 18–19, 24, 26–27, 31, 33–42, 45–53, 78, 83, 86–87, 91, 93–94, 99–100, 102, 109, 127, 129, 132 Mescherskaya, E.N. 90, 98 Mesene 227 Mesopotamia 10, 32, 34, 78, 182, 191 in Antiquity 47, 49 in Late Antiquity 6, 9, 11, 41, 45, 48, 51– 53, 60–71 metaphysics 38 Metatron 67 Michael (angel) 110, 131, 154, 194–195 Michael the Syrian 38 Middle Persian 67 midwives 31 migraine 196 Mihálykó, Á.T. 147–148 Mill, J. 15 Mills, M.E. 150 Mingana, A. 82 Mirkis, Y. 80, 96–97 Mishael 194 monasteries 33, 36, 39, 51–52, 113, 115, 130 Montgomery, J. 17–18, 141, 148, 153–154 Morgenstern, M. 59

index of subjects Moriggi, M. 21–22, 26, 78, 80, 126, 153–154, 156, 184 Moses 77, 111, 121–122, 147, 153, 155–156, 158, 162, 193–194 Mosul 33, 79, 113, 123–124 Moussaieff Collection 59, 65 Mroczek, E. 147, 151 Müller-Kessler, C. 21–22, 43, 184, 202–205, 211, 222, 224, 226–231, 233–234 mul lumāšu 42–43 Muntner, S. 52 Murre-van den Berg, H. 171 Museum für Islamische Kunst 59 Museum of Antiquities (Istanbul) 59 Najman, H. 147, 151, 156 names of power 120, 162, 170, 175–177, 179, 188, 194 National Museum of Natural History, Washington DC 156 Noah 156–157, 162, 193 Nau, F. 17, 87, 93 Naveh, J. 21, 24, 98–99, 183, 188 Neesan, Y.M. 93 Neo-Aramaic 7, 37 Neo-Assyrian Empire 47 Neo-Babylonian Empire 47 Nestorius 115 Neugebauer, O. 44 nightmares 99 Nippur 142, 145, 148, 152, 183 Nöldeke, T. 224–225 Onasima 121 orientalism 14–19 Ouranos 116 paganism 40–41, 60 Pahlavi see Middle Persian Palestine in Late Antiquity 52, 112–113 Paradise 67, 111 Parthian Empire 41, 47–48 Paz, Y. 234–235 Pearson, A. 78 Perkins, J. 78, 102 philosophy 33, 38–41 Phocas (Saint) 122, 131–132 phylacteries 57

index of subjects Pigulevskaya, N.V. 88 pleurisy 99 poetry 38, 41, 46 practitioners see magic, practitioners priests 46–52 see also Christianity, priests and Jews/ Judaism, priests and magi and temples, priests of prisoners 122 Psalms use in magic 91, 101–102, 132 Rabban Hormuzd 33 rabies 99 Raphael 194–195 Red Sea 153, 155–156, 158, 162, 194 Renan, E. 14–15 reptiles 131 resurrection 188 rhetoric 33 rheumatism 113 Riad, E. 161 ring (magic) 131, 158, 194 Rochberg, F. 43 Ronis, S. 161–162 root cutters 31 Rudolf, S. 24–25, 27, 43, 95 Russia 188 Sachau, E. 82, 91 Sanzo, J. 4, 148, 151, 161–163 Sarau, O. 92 Sasanian Empire 2, 9, 11, 48, 127, 182, 192 Satan 110–111, 123–124, 173 Schleifer, J. 18 Schmidt, A.B. 98 Schøyen Collection 58 scorpions 129 scrolls see magic scrolls seal (magic) 158 Second World War 20–21 Segal, J.B. 22, 149, 184 Seleucia-on-the-Tigris 50 Seleucid Empire 50 Seleucus i Nicator 50 seminaries 33 sexual continence 67–68 Shaked, S. 21–22, 24, 58, 61, 98, 148–149, 188 Shapur ii 115

253 Simon Peter 121 Siodor, R.C. 84 skulls (magic) 130 Smithsonian Institution 156 snakes 129 sociology 16, 80 Sogdian 124 Solomon 79, 102–106, 109, 111–113, 116, 118– 119, 123, 125, 131, 153, 156–158, 162, 194 Sørensen, J.P. 149 speech-act theory 150 Steinert, U. 47–48 Stern, S. 69–71 syncretism 2, 6, 62–63 Syria 34, 41 Syriac Christianity see Christianity colophons 160–161, 169, 191 culture 6, 78 Estrangela script 57, 160, 192 grammar 94 hagiography 101 intermediary between Greek and Arabic 19 language 2, 22–23, 27 literature 3, 64, 102, 161 liturgy 91–92, 99–100, 141, 149, 160–162, 172–174, 177–178, 183, 185, 187, 191 Manichaean script 57 medicine 18–19, 27 Renaissance 9, 31, 37–39 Serto script 192 Takahashi, H. 24 Talay, S. 95 talismans 57 Tbilisi 124 Teixidor, J. 21 Temple of Jerusalem 131 temples 43, 45, 47–52 priests of 45, 47–52 Teule, H. 89–90 theology 38, 40–41, 45–46 Thomas (Apostle) 42 Torah 131 translation Akkadian to Aramaic (including Syriac) 42–45, 51, 125 Egyptian to Greek 128–129

254 Greek to Syriac 125 Greek to Syriac to Arabic 19 Jewish Aramaic to Syriac 125–126 Tree of Life 111 Trinity and Trinitarian formulae 65, 172, 177–178, 186, 191–192, 197 Turfan 23–24, 124, 170, 189 Turkey 78, 188 Tylor, E.B. 15–16 University College London 79, 84 University of Pennsylvania 145 Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology 59, 151–152 Urmiah 124 Urmiah College 26, 37 Uruk 50 van der Ploeg, J.P.M. 91 van Rompay, L. 3, 22, 63 Veltri, G. 7

index of subjects Versel, H. 149 Vorderasiatisches Museum

58–59, 67

witchcraft 146, 196–197 Wolfe Collection 58, 65 wolves 102 Wright, W. 15, 19, 91 Yadin, Y. 99 Yale Babylonian Collection 67 Yazdis 102 Zabel, P. 95 Zadok, R. 228–232 Zellmann-Rohrer, M. 95 Zodiac 42 Zoroaster 126 Zoroastrianism and Zoroastrians 49, 60, 127, 187, 231 see also magi