Culture of Defeat: Submission in Written Sources and the Archaeological Record. Proceedings of a Joint Seminar of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and the University of Vienna, October 2017 9781463241889

Citation preview

Culture of Defeat

Gorgias Studies in the Ancient Near East

16

6HULHV(GLWRULDO%RDUG 5RQDOG:DOOHQIHOV (Chair) 3DXO&ROOLQV $LGDQ'RGVRQ $OKHQD*DGRWWL .D\.RKOPH\HU¬ $GDP0LJOLR %HDWH3RQJUDW]/HLVWHQ 6HWK5LFKDUGVRQ

This series publishes scholarly research focusing on the societies, material cultures, technologies, religions, and languages that emerged from Mesopotamia, Egypt, and the Levant. Gorgias Studies in the Ancient Near East features studies with both humanistic and social scientific approaches. 

Culture of Defeat

Submission in Written Sources and the Archaeological Record. Proceedings of a Joint Seminar of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and the University of Vienna, October 2017

Edited by

Katharina Streit Marianne Grohmann

gp 2020

Gorgias Press LLC, 954 River Road, Piscataway, NJ, 08854, USA www.gorgiaspress.com Copyright © 2020 by Gorgias Press LLC

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise without the prior written permission of Gorgias Press LLC. ‫ܝܐ‬

1

2020

ISBN 978-1-4632-3920-6

ISSN 2689-601X

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A Cataloging-in-Publication Record is available from the Library of Congress. Printed in the United States of America

TABLE OF CONTENTS

List of Authors................................................................................ vii Introduction ...................................................................................... 1 Katharina Streit – Marianne Grohmann Lamentations 1 as Response to Defeat .............................................. 7 Marianne Grohmann Why Was Psalm 79 Composed? ...................................................... 27 Yair Zakovitch Picturing Defeat to Build Resilience: A Reading of the First Book of the Hebrew Psalter ............................................................. 43 Danilo Verde Doomed Prophets: The Function of Cult Officials in Times of Destruction as a Literary Topic in Ancient Near Eastern Lament Literature as Well as in the Book of Jeremiah ............. 61 Sarah Köhler Lost the Battle? Three Case Studies of Military Defeat: Rewrite History and Claim You Won the War, Ignore the Defeat and Consolidate Power, or Pray to God ................................. 97 Danʾel Kahn Defeat Literature in the Cult of the Victorious: Ancient Mesopotamian Sumerian City Laments .......................................... 121 Uri Gabbay

v

vi

CULTURE OF DEFEAT

A New Hope: The New Year’s Festival Texts as a Cultural Reaction to Defeat ................................................................. 139 Céline Debourse The Sound of Silence: The Destruction of Babylon by Sennacherib and the Babylonian Chronicles ............................................... 165 Yuval Levavi Assyria in Egypt: How to Trace Defeat in Ancient Egyptian Sources ................................................................................... 189 Felix Höflmayer After the Flames Died Down: Defeat, Destruction, and Forced Abandonment in the Bronze and Iron Age Levant ............... 229 Igor Kreimerman After the Storm: Political, Economic and Socio-Demographic Aspects of the Assyrian Defeat of the Southern Levant ......... 261 Katharina Streit Indices ............................................................................................287

LIST OF AUTHORS Céline Debourse Department of Near Eastern Studies University of Vienna [email protected] Uri Gabbay Department of Archaeology and Ancient Near East The Hebrew University of Jerusalem [email protected] Marianne Grohmann Institute of Old Testament Research and Biblical Archaeology University of Vienna [email protected] Felix Höflmayer Institute of Oriental and European Archaeology Austrian Academy of Sciences [email protected] Danʾel Kahn Department of Biblical Studies University of Haifa [email protected] Sarah Köhler Department of Old Testament Studies Friedrich Schiller University Jena [email protected] vii

viii

CULTURE OF DEFEAT

Igor Kreimerman McDonald Institute for Archaeological Research University of Cambridge [email protected] Yuval Levavi Department of Near Eastern Studies University of Vienna [email protected] Katharina Streit Martin Buber Society of Fellows The Hebrew University of Jerusalem [email protected] Danilo Verde Faculty of Theology and Religious Studies Catholic University of Leuven [email protected] Yair Zakovich Bible Department The Hebrew University of Jerusalem [email protected]

INTRODUCTION KATHARINA STREIT – MARIANNE GROHMANN War and conquest figure prominently in all disciplines of ancient Near Eastern studies. They are usually reflected in textual sources as military campaigns and/or narratives of victory, and are most commonly preserved in the archaeological record as destruction layers. In general, it is the successful agent in a conflict, and his motivations, strategies and methods that are the focus of analyses (Backer 2013; O’Brien and Boatright 2013; Fagan and Trundle 2010; Shaw 1999; Yadin 1963). To date, little attention has been paid to the defeated parties in such conflicts. This can be ascribed either to a bias or ambivalence, to historical and archaeological records in which the responses to defeat rarely constitute the focus of the source, or to an intrinsically human preference to emphasise the ‘successful’ side of events. Thus, narratives of conquest, innovation, growth and expansion reinforce or even skew an historical account towards the successful party. However, the defeated often experience much more significant, often traumatic, and enduring impacts. Defeat events have wholesale effects on societies, simultaneously affecting political, sociodemographic, economic, and cultural aspects. They are thus what one might perceive as ‘total social phenomena’ (in reference to Mauss 1954), and are therefore an ideal means through which to undertake an archaeological-historical analysis of a region. Reconstructing the agency of the defeated is critical to comprehensively understanding the course of history. Different response mechanisms emerge, depending on the magnitude and type of defeat, and on the cultural context in which the event is embedded. 1

2

KATHARINA STREIT – MARIANNE GROHMANN

Some scholars have explored the responses of defeated societies in more recent historical periods (the 19th and 20th centuries CE; e.g. Schivelbusch 2001; Ginio 2016), but a similar approach is still lacking for ancient Near Eastern studies. Cursory considerations of responses to catastrophic events have primarily examined natural phenomena (Berlejung 2012). In a joint seminar of the Hebrew University and the University of Vienna, held in Jerusalem on the 22nd and 23rd of October 2017, delegates from the fields of Near Eastern Archaeology, Hebrew Bible Studies and Assyriology presented aspects of defeat from the Late Bronze and Iron Age Near East, up to the Neo-Babylonian period, exploring (cultural) responses by defeated parties. Their individual contributions utilised major sources from their fields of expertise, such as biblical texts, Assyrian administrative records, royal inscriptions and iconographic representations, and the archaeological record, that focus on the responses of the vanquished. Seven of these papers, as well as four invited papers, are presented here in extended and updated form. The volume intends to shed new light on the consequences of and reactions to defeat, in order to ascertain a more nuanced and complete picture of conflict. It further aims to initiate a more indepth dialogue between interconnected disciplines, from Archaeology, Assyriology and Bible Studies, which far too often remain isolated from one another. Altogether, eleven chapters have been collated, each examining different yet interwoven topics of defeat, be they historical reconstructions, defeat as a literary motif, biases and mutual influences of and within written sources, or archaeological evidence of defeat. Biblical texts that reflect defeat are mainly found within the poetic books: In her re-examination of Lamentations 1 in Chapter 1, “Lamentations 1 as Response to Defeat”, Marianne Grohmann explores the literary composition and socio-historical environment of this text, which pertains to the historically attested defeat of Judah and the subsequent destruction of Jerusalem in 587 BCE. She draws attention to how the corpus is defined by both the individual and collective experience of this event, as well as a wider theoretical discussion of how trauma studies can be applied to the Hebrew Bible.

INTRODUCTION

3

In Chapter 2, “Why was Psalm 79 composed?”, Yair Zakovitch aims to find answers to this question. He proposes that the psalm was composed as a response to the defeat of the Kingdom of Judah by the Babylonian Empire, highlighting evidence that Judah did not act upon the commands issued in Psalm 78, thus explaining, and even justifying, the lack of divine protection. Danilo Verde’s examination of the first Book of Psalms in Chapter 3, “Picturing Defeat to Build Resilience”, spotlights the motifs of defeat and vulnerability, and their expression in the language of the body. He argues that this literary tradition might have been intended to encourage resilience in ancient Israel’s postexilic community. Sarah Köhler explores in Chapter 4, “Doomed Prophets”, the role of cult officials in times of destruction and defeat in the Book of Jeremiah, and argues that this topos is to be understood as a unique literary theme largely disconnected from historical events, and influenced by Mesopotamian traditions. Chapter 5, “Lost in Battle?” by Danʾel Kahn, offers a critical reexamination of the accounts and historical reconstructions of three events: the defeat of Sennacherib at Jerusalem in 701 BCE, the defeat of the Assyrian army at the borders of Egypt in 673 BCE, and the defeat of Taharqa in Egypt by the Assyrians in 671 BCE. He emphasizes the different natures of the sources, as well as the historical realities and cultural contexts that shaped these accounts. Uri Gabbay discusses the literary genre of Sumerian city laments in Chapter 6, “Defeat Literature in the Cult of the Victorious”. He highlights that laments over the destruction of temples and cities had been a standard component of the temple cult in Mesopotamia since at least 2000 BCE, and therefore proposes that examples of this genre should not be understood as reflecting historical events, but rather be interpreted in their theological contexts. In her re-evaluation of the (partial) defeats of Babylon by the Persian Empire in 484 BCE and the Macedonians in 331 BCE, Céline Debourse argues in Chapter 7, “A New Hope”, that a cursory reading of later Hellenistic documents seems to portray a surprisingly uninterrupted continuation of the important institutions of social and religious life. Yet her in-depth examination of the New Year’s Festival, which features the (defeated) king, reveals that rather than

4

KATHARINA STREIT – MARIANNE GROHMANN

representing continuity, this ritual should be understood as a religious response to defeat, and might in part be interpreted as a coping mechanism. In Chapter 8, “The Sound of Silence”, Yuval Levavi explores Sennacherib’s destruction of Babylon in 689 BCE, contrasting detailed descriptions of the aggressive and near-total annihilation of the city in later Assyrian and Babylonian sources with a mere passing remark in the Babylonian chronicle. He examines reasons for what appears to be an intentional attempt to downplay the gravity of the event. Felix Höflmayer explores the Assyrian invasion of Egypt and the sack of Memphis and Thebes in Chapter 9, “Assyria in Egypt”. These events are conspicuously absent from any Egyptian written records and the archaeological evidence is largely silent, so that historical reconstructions are nearly exclusively based on the accounts of the victor. The omission of the event from Egyptian sources is ascribed to the perception that the pharaoh must always guarantee the cosmic order, precluding any possibility of defeat or disarray, and that this has significantly influenced and even skewed the written records. The archaeological side of defeat, particularly those that resulted in the destruction of cities, is explored by Igor Kreimerman in Chapter 10, “After the Flames Died Down”. Based on a thorough survey of the nature of destruction layers in the southern Levant, the author convincingly argues that the nature and intensity of a destruction directly reflects the mid- and long-term intentions that the victor had for the city, and what kinds of reactions by the local population were expected. In Chapter 11, “After the Storm”, Katharina Streit examines the impact on, and responses by, the societies of Israel and Judah in the aftermath of the conquest by the Assyrian empire in the late 8th and early 7th centuries BCE. In analysing archaeological and textual data, the paper reconstructs the political, economic, and sociodemographic effects of the defeat and thus aims to shed light on the multifaceted outcomes of defeats and the subsequent response mechanisms of the vanquished. Above all, these analyses of the different aspects of defeat and defeat narratives reveal that defeat was a shared human experience.

INTRODUCTION

5

Wolfgang Schivelbusch (Schivelbusch 2003, 3) argued that history may in the short-term be made by the victors, but historical wisdom is in the long run “enriched more by the vanquished”. With its different approaches, methodologies and sources, this volume seeks to illuminate the experience of defeated parties, and thus to disclose the historical wisdom underlying such events in the cultural and historical context of the ancient Near East.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Backer, Fabrice de 2013. L’art du siège néo-assyrien. Leiden, Boston: Brill. Berlejung, Angelika, ed. 2012. Disaster and Relief Management: Katastrophen und ihre Bewältigung. Forschungen zum Alten Testament 81. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Fagan, Garrett, and Matthew Trundle, eds. 2010. New Perspectives on Ancient Warfare. Leiden, Boston: Brill. Ginio, Eyal 2016. The Ottoman Culture of Defeat: The Balkan Wars and Their Aftermath. London: C. Hurst & Co. Mauss, Marcel 1954. The Gift: Forms and Functions of Exchange in Archaic Societies. London: Coehn & West. O’Brien, Stephen, and Daniel Boatright, eds. 2013. Warfare and Society in the Ancient Eastern Mediterranean: Papers Arising from a Colloquium Held at the University of Liverpool, 13th June 2008. BAR International Series 2583. Oxford: Archaeopress. Schivelbusch, Wolfgang 2001. Die Kultur der Niederlage: Der amerikanische Süden 1865. Frankreich 1871. Deutschland 1918. Berlin: Alexander Fest Verlag. Schivelbusch, Wolfgang 2003. The Culture of Defeat: On National Trauma, Mourning, and Recovery. Translated by Jefferson Chase. New York: Picador. Shaw, Ian 1999. Egyptian Warfare and Weapons. Shire Egyptology. New York: Bloomsbury. Yadin, Yigael 1963. The Art of Warfare in Biblical Lands: In the Light of Archaeological Study. New York: McGraw-Hill.

LAMENTATIONS 1 AS RESPONSE TO DEFEAT MARIANNE GROHMANN ABSTRACT Many biblical texts originate in a context of exile, and they reflect the experience of deportation after defeats caused by the stronger powers that surrounded the small polities of Israel and Judah. The biblical book of Lamentations is one of these, a poetic text pertaining to one historical defeat, the destruction of Jerusalem in 587 BCE. This article combines a literary exegesis of Lamentations 1 with historical patterns of reactions to defeat and insights from trauma studies, and showcases the different voices incorporating various perspectives on the catastrophe. In combining the collective and individual levels, the poetic text draws a picture of defeat in an encompassing way.

1. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS Although it was most common in antiquity for the victorious to tell their stories and thereby construct what we know as history, in the Hebrew Bible we find texts that reflect the perspective of defeat. Many biblical texts originated in a context of exile and migration, and they portray the experience of displacement and deportation after defeats caused by stronger powers that surrounded the small polities of Israel and Judah (Cuéllar 2008, 1). Thus, “the perspective of the vanquished is … dominant in the Bible” (Wright 2009, 434).

7

8

MARIANNE GROHMANN

The destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians in 587 BCE, and especially the exile that followed, constitute a central myth and foundational period of the Hebrew Bible.1 The biblical book of Lamentations is a good example of a text in which the story is told not by the winners, but by the defeated (Koenen 2015, 24–25). The five anonymous songs are neither a political nor an historical report about the situation in Jerusalem and Judah during the Babylonian Exile (6th century BCE), but rather deal with defeat in poetic form. Recent research on the book of Lamentations (Thomas 2013) has focused on war and violence as factors producing special poetic literature. Nancy C. Lee, for example, compares the biblical lamentations with contemporary lament poems from recent postwar Croatia and Bosnia. Using oral-poetic and socio-rhetorical methods, she shows specific coping patterns that enable populations to come to terms with destruction and defeat in war. One pattern, the personification of cities under siege, is common from Ur to Jerusalem to Sarajevo and Vukovar: “a role of poetry/song in Lamentations in the aftermath of destruction of Jerusalem was to provide the survivors an arena for disagreeing voices to process the cause of what happened, to deal with what was both a social tragedy and a theological crisis” (Lee 2002, 197). Lee stresses the prominent role of women in processes of lament, as “performers of dirges across cultures and through history” (Lee 2002, 199). Psychological readings interpret Lamentations as a paradigmatic book reflecting trauma (Labahn 2002; Reimer 2002; SmithChristopher 2011). Elizabeth Boase, for example, applies insights about trauma from social theory (Alexander 2012) to the book of Lamentations, which she describes as “one of the clearest expressions of trauma literature in the Hebrew Bible. The image of the isolated and bereaved woman, violated, degraded, lacking anyone to comfort her, represents well the traumatic impact of war and devastation” (Boase 2016, 49). I wish to thank Barbara Groß, Karoline Rumpler, and Annette Schellenberg for proofreading and helpful comments to this article. Some aspects concerning the Babylonian Exile have been discussed in Grohmann 2016.

1

LAMENTATIONS 1 AS RESPONSE TO DEFEAT

9

The following article combines a literary exegesis of Lamentations 1 with the historical patterns of reactions to defeat developed by Wolfgang Schivelbusch (2003) and insights from trauma studies.

2. VOICES OF DEFEAT IN LAMENTATIONS 1 Lamentations 1 refers directly to the destruction of Jerusalem and the deportation of some of its inhabitants in 587 BCE. The song is an anonymous literary text, an acrostic in 22 strophes. Many commentators argue that this text was written immediately after the destruction of Jerusalem, because it describes the events in the language of shock and trauma (Berges 2002, 72), revealing a profound emotional connection to the city without expressing any hope of return. This would have the effect of limiting the possible composition period to approximately the years 580 to 550 BCE (Koenen 2014, 30). On the other hand, these features may reflect conscious literary and stylistic decisions from a later era. That the text is a highly sophisticated acrostic supports the argument that it was not created immediately after the destruction of Jerusalem, but rather later in the exile or even in the postexilic period. The pattern of explaining the defeat and destruction of Jerusalem as a consequence of the people’s behaviour may point to Deuteronomistic influence, which would suggest an early postexilic date.2 The lament may have been used in public mourning, either in Jerusalem at the site of the destroyed temple or in rural areas around the city (Maier 2011, 191). However, the support for this from biblical texts, such as Zechariah 7:3 and 7:5, is not very strong. The text of Lamentations 1 itself contains no hints for the ritual use of the song in a mourning ceremony. It is a literary reflection on a historical event, not a cultic ritual text like the Sumerian laments (see Uri Gabbay’s article in this volume); it is “Kunstdichtung, keine Kultdichtung” (Frevel 2017, 65). The situation in the city is described

2 Frevel 2017, 37–39. For example, he sees the term “province” (‫ )מדינה‬in Lamentations 1:1, which is used only in postexilic texts, as an indication for this dating.

10

MARIANNE GROHMANN

from the perspective of people who have remained in Jerusalem but time and again turn their eyes to those who have been deported. In its formal literary shaping, Lamentations 1 consists of two parts. In the first part of the song, verses 1–11, an external voice describes the situation in Jerusalem. The city is personified to reflect different social roles: as a lonely widow; a former princess who is now a slave; a mother bereaved of her children; a lamenting, mourning woman; and a woman whose lovers and friends have abandoned her.3 Adele Berlin ‘translates’ these metaphors: “The woman betrayed by her lovers is the country betrayed by its allies; the mother mourning the loss of her children is the city lamenting the exile of her citizens; the sexual violation of the woman-city is the religious violation of the temple precincts; the sexual sin of immorality is the religious sin of idolatry” (Berlin 2002, 47). The first part of Lamentations 1 features the external voice of a narrator: The voice of Jerusalem herself is inserted twice in verses 9c and 11c, along with an appeal to God. In the second part, verses 12–22, we again discern the voice of Jerusalem herself, making it a lamentation by the city. Jerusalem speaks in the first person singular and addresses both passers-by (verse 12) and nations (verse 18). In her speech, we find two insertions of other voices: In verse 17, the external voice of a narrator speaks about the personified city (Frevel 2017, 23); and in verses 20–22 the song of Jerusalem finds its climax in a prayer, an appeal to God, introduced by “see YHWH” (‫)ראה יהוה‬. Lamentations 1 uses elements from at least four different literary patterns and combines them into a unique poetic creation: (1) A city lament: Mourning for the downfall of a city. This literary genre is well-known in the ancient Near East from the 20th century BCE onward; one example being mourning for the downfall of Ur (see Uri Gabbay’s paper in this volume); (2) A dirge/keening: A lament for the dead (Lamentations; Jahnow 1923, 174); See Berlin 2002, 47: “Here a kaleidoscope of images turns quickly from a lonely widow, to a degraded princess, to a whore, to a rape victim, to a betrayed lover, to an abandoned wife.”

3

LAMENTATIONS 1 AS RESPONSE TO DEFEAT

11

(3) Elements characteristic of lamentation psalms from the perspective of a single person or of the whole people; (4) Elements of prophetic language. The personification of the city renders the destruction of Jerusalem more dramatic and personal. The titles ‫ רבה‬and ‫שׂרה‬, used here for Jerusalem, are ascribed to goddesses in the ancient Near East (Berges 2002, 54–55). City goddesses mourning the loss of their cities, temples, and people are well-known in Mesopotamia (Berges 2002, 63). The female personification of Jerusalem embodies not only a human collective but also a space, that is, not only the inhabitants but also the gates, buildings, and streets of the city. The name ‘Zion’ traditionally stands for God’s elected place, the mountain on which the main sanctuary is located. The title ‘Daughter of Zion’ creates a relationship between the city, its population, and God (Maier 2011, 192). Her grief is expressed in verbs of lament and references to parts of her individual body. This personification links the personal and collective dimensions of defeat.

3. PATTERNS OF REACTION TO DEFEAT IN LAMENTATIONS 1 The historian Wolfgang Schivelbusch identified two forms of “empathetic philosophy of defeat”: an “‘interested’ reflection of defeat of the vanquished themselves” and the “‘disinterested’ voices of third parties” (Schivelbusch 2003, 2–3). The voice of the narrator in the first part of the poem represents the former. Some of the patterns or archetypes of reactions to defeat that Schivelbusch discerns can be found in Lamentations 1. The following interpretation of Lamentations 1 applies these patterns to the biblical text. 3.1. ‘Awakening’: Miserable Living Conditions, Dispersion in Space

Lamentations 1 reflects many aspects of defeat in the phase of ‘awakening’, such as a “change in mood and the accusation of deceit or betrayal levelled against the external enemy” (Schivelbusch 2003, 15– 16) in Lamentations 1:2: Among all her lovers she has no one to comfort her; all her friends have dealt treacherously with her, they have become her enemies (NRSV)

‫אֲהֶביָה‬ ֹ ‫ֵאין־ָלהּ ְמ ַנֵחם ִמָכּל־‬ ‫ָכּל־ ֵרֶﬠיָה ָבּ ְגדוּ ָבהּ‬ ‫אְיִבים‬ ֹ ‫ָהיוּ ָלהּ ְל‬

12

MARIANNE GROHMANN

Lamentations 1:3 describes the difficult living conditions after defeat: Judah has gone into exile with suffering and hard ‫ב ָדה‬ ֹ ‫ָגְּלָתה ְיהוּ ָדה ֵמֹע ִני וֵּמֹרב ֲﬠ‬ servitude; she lives now among the nations, and finds no ‫ִהיא ָיְשָׁבה ַבגּוֹ ִים ל ֹא ָמְצָאה ָמנוֹ ַח‬ resting place; her pursuers have all overtaken her in the midst ‫ֹר ְדֶפיָה ִהִשּׂיגוָּה ֵבּין ַהְמָּצ ִרים‬-‫ָכּל‬ of her distress (NRSV)

“Judah has gone into exile” – this is described in a verbal form of the root ‫גלה‬, from which the noun gôlāh is derived. Going into exile is described as an active process, although it never describes a voluntary departure. Judah, personified as a woman, is seen both as a state and as a population. “She lives now among the nations, and finds no resting place” is another description of the circumstances of exile. The root ‫ גלה‬has a broad spectrum of meanings: to denude, to open, to go away, to emigrate, to be deported, to go into exile (Gesenius 2007, 215–216). The noun gôlāh designates the group of deported, exiled, or banished persons, the community in exile collectively; the process of deportation, banishing, removal, or leading into exile (Gesenius 2007, 206), and the place or condition of exile (Gesenius 2007, 95). Difficult living conditions characterize the situation after exile: The life of those in exile is described as suffering (‫)עני‬, hard work (‫)רב עבדה‬, and distress (‫)מצרים‬. The preposition ‫ מ‬can be translated and understood in various ways: (1) As a preposition signifying parting – either local, meaning ‘from’/‘out of’, or temporal, meaning ‘after’ (Berlin 2002, 41–45); (2) As indicating a consequence, as in the JPS translation ‘because of’. ‫ עני‬is a general expression designating affliction of any kind: sorrow, suffering, humiliation, or oppression. It is frequently used in the Psalms (e.g., Psalm 9:14) and in wisdom literature (e.g., Job 10:15), but it also appears in narrative texts (Genesis 16:11) and is sometimes used to describe the relationship with God: God sees the affliction of the Israelites in Egypt; God cares for Israel and delivers it from misery (Exodus 3:7, 17). Other social effects of exile following defeat are destructive behavioural patterns in crisis: The state disintegrates, violence becomes

LAMENTATIONS 1 AS RESPONSE TO DEFEAT

13

the order of the day, and the weak are further subjugated. One of the social effects of life after defeat and exile is the diminishment of resources and security (Ames 2011, 175–176). The situation of those who remained in Jerusalem after the destruction of the city in 587 BCE and the suffering of the population is described, for example, in Lamentations 1:7: Jerusalem remembers, in the days of her affliction and wandering, all the precious things that were hers in days of old; When her people fell into the hand of the foe, and there was no one to help her, the foe looked on mocking over her downfall (NRSV)

‫ָזְכ ָרה ְירוָּשַׁלִם‬ ‫ְיֵמי ָﬠ ְנָיהּ וְּמרוּ ֶדיָה‬ ‫כֹּל ַמֲחֻמ ֶדיָה‬ ‫ֲאֶשׁר ָהיוּ ִמיֵמי ֶק ֶדם‬ ‫פל ַﬠָמּהּ ְבַּיד־ָצר‬ ֹ ‫ִבּ ְנ‬ ‫ְוֵאין עוֹ ֵזר ָלהּ‬ ‫ָראוָּה ָצ ִרים ָשֲׂחקוּ ַﬠל ִמְשַׁבֶּתָּה׃‬

Difficult living conditions are described with the words, “the days of her affliction and wandering” (‫)ימי עניה ומרודיה‬. This verse is another example of the bad treatment of the people by their enemies, especially stressing mockery and derision. God is not mentioned explicitly but may be implied as the absent helper in the statement “there was no one to help her.” Passages like this one, with the word “downfall”, “end”, or “Sabbath” (‫ )שבת‬that was also used in 2 Chronicles 36:21, have given rise to an image of the total destruction of Jerusalem and of a deserted land. The picture of a major turning point and disaster scenario, as we find it in the examples from Lamentations 1 and in other biblical descriptions of the exile (2 Kings 24–25; Jeremiah 39, 51; 2 Chronicles 36:17– 21), is only partially reflected by archaeological research. Archaeologists regard the 6th century BCE as a period of transition from the Iron Age to the period of Persian rule (Kelle 2011, 9–10). In Lamentations 1, defeat is not presented as an historical event but as having emotional and religious connotations, as a wasteland, the emptiness of the soul, and the absence of God (Thompson 1999, 222). At the same time, Lamentations 1 describes the city in great detail from the perspective of a person inside it. Thus, there is a connection between the population in exile and people who remained in the city, an orientation toward the homeland. “Afflictions” (verse 7) and “great servitude” or “hard labour” (verse 3) describe the circum-

14

MARIANNE GROHMANN

stances of life. Another aspect of these appalling social living conditions is described Lamentations 1:11: All her people groan as they search for bread; they trade their treasures for food to revive their strength (NRSV)

‫ָכּל־ַﬠָמּהּ ֶנֱא ָנִחים ְמַבְקִּשׁים ֶלֶחם‬ ‫ָנְתנוּ ַמֲחמוֹ ֵדּיֶהם‬ ‫אֶכל ְלָהִשׁיב ָנֶפשׁ‬ ֹ ‫ְבּ‬

These descriptions of dire need, hunger, and problems with food supplies are in opposition to texts such as Jeremiah 39–40, which are intended to convey hope of a new beginning. One explanation may be that immediately after the destruction of Jerusalem, supplies in the city were obviously scarcer than in rural areas and during subsequent periods (Kessler 2008, 131; Lipschits 2005, 190). In Lamentations 1:16–20, the children and very young people are described as being affected in particular by captivity, violence, and death – also typical experiences in situations of defeat. However, a list of all population groups mentioned in the Book of Lamentations shows that it was not only the weakest who suffered. The book paints a diverse picture of the urban population, including some or even all strata and groups of society (Berlin 2002, 13–15). This image differs from 2 Kings 24–25 and Jeremiah 39, where we are told that only the socially weak groups stayed in the country. These latter texts may reflect the perspective of the exiled in Babylon, who understood themselves as elites looking down on the people who stayed in their land. The text describes the state of emergency after the destruction of Jerusalem and the exile of its inhabitants: exile (verse 3), misery and wandering (verse 7), hunger (verse 11), murder, especially of the youngest (verse 20), slavery, and captivity (verses 5, 18). The suffering in the city is described as a human experience, caused to a large extent by humans and perpetrated on other humans. Although Lamentations 1 uses poetic language to mourn the destruction of Jerusalem in the style of lamentations for the destructions of other cities (Albertz 2001, 127), which were common in the ancient Near East, the text contains clues that indicate specific circumstances: Judah has gone into exile (verse 3); the city, her streets, and her gates are desolate and deserted; no solemn assemblies are held (verse 4); enemies are in power (verses 5, 7); their own princes are weak (verse 6); and the people go hungry (verses 11, 19).

LAMENTATIONS 1 AS RESPONSE TO DEFEAT

15

3.2. “Unworthy Victories”: Glances at the Enemies

The way that Lamentations 1 describes the enemies contains elements of the patterns or archetypes of reactions to defeat, which Schivelbusch describes as “unworthy victories” (Schivelbusch 2003, 17). One common pattern is an ambiguous view of foreign rulers (Smith-Christopher 2011, 266–267): “the defeated party can always declare the decisive factor to have been a violation of the rules, thereby nullifying the victory and depicting the winner as a cheater” (Schivelbusch 2003, 17). The “pursuers” and “affliction” are not mentioned by name, but are described using a varied repertoire of terms for oppression, limitation, and persecution (Koenen 2014, 41– 45). Lamentations 1 uses several terms for the enemies: ‫( אי בים‬verses 2, 5, 9, 16, 21), ‫( רדפים‬verses 3, 6), ‫( צרים‬verses 5, 7, 10, 17). Particularly terrifying is that former friends have become enemies (Lamentations 1:8). The fact that the Babylonians are not mentioned by name makes the text open to different readings at different times. Moral categories play an eminent role in the reflections of defeat: “In the wake of every forced capitulation … a new struggle begins, a kind of ethical and juridical levée en masse in which the loser, casting himself as the personification of defiled purity, tries to score a ‘moral victory’ against the winner” (Schivelbusch 2003, 19). A similar process of moral consideration may underlie Lamentations 1:7–10. 3.3. Self-reflexivity: “Losers in Battle, Winners in Spirit”

One reaction to defeat reflected in Lamentations 1 is a process of selfreflexivity, in which people try to find explanations for the defeat. One statement is that human behaviour led to the catastrophe. Moral categories can be formulated according to a self-understanding of “losers in battle, winners in spirit” (Schivelbusch 2003, 21). Another explanation is the absence of God. Hard living conditions and the suffering of the population are described both on a collective level, in terms of the different groups in society, and on a personal level, as the suffering of the woman representing the city and expressed in descriptions of her body, as in Lamentations 1:20: See, O Lord, how distressed I am; my stomach churns, my heart is wrung within me,

‫ְרֵאה ְיה ָוה ִכּי־ַצר־ִלי‬ ‫ֵמַﬠי ֳחַמ ְרָמרוּ‬ ‫ֶנְהַפְּך ִלִבּי ְבִּק ְרִבּי‬

16

MARIANNE GROHMANN

because I have been very rebellious. In the street the sword bereaves; in the house it is like death (NRSV)

‫ִכּי ָמרוֹ ָמ ִריִתי‬ ‫ִמחוּץ ִשְׁכָּלה־ֶח ֶרב‬ :‫ַבַּבִּית ַכָּמּ ֶות‬

The self-description as being rebellious can be read as an example of the “self-blame so typical of survivors of trauma … Judeans in the wake of Jerusalem’s destruction blamed themselves for their disaster” (Carr 2014, 71). In Lamentations 1, the city, personified as a woman, mourns the death of her children. As early as 1923, the Hebrew Bible expert Hedwig Jahnow observed that lamentation for the dead is a “secular” genre in the ancient Near East, since by its nature, death is a sphere distant from God (Jahnow 1923, 168–169). In accordance with the secular character of lamentations for the dead, the distress of the city’s population is largely portrayed as being caused by humans: The text describes deportation, misery, serfdom, hunger, the threat of enemies, and murder. This situation reflects the state of emergency immediately after the destruction of Jerusalem. The catastrophe takes on an even more harrowing dimension when God is described as its cause (verses 5, 12–13). Holding deities responsible for the destruction of cities is not uncommon in the context of the ancient Near East: Sometimes the tutelary goddess of a city cannot protect it because other, higher gods have decided to destroy it. God’s wrath functions as an explanation for the circumstances leading to defeat. The religious dimension comes to the fore when God is described as the initiator of the disaster scenario (verse 5), and the experience of defeat is portrayed in the context of a process of wrestling with God. The personification of the city has precedent in the Mesopotamian lamentations over the destruction of cities in which the tutelary deity of a city mourns the loss of his or her city, temple, and population (Berges 2002, 63). Thus, for example, in the second lamentation over the destruction of the city of Ur (Kaiser and Janowski 1986, 707), shared responsibility is attributed to several deities. The city deities are not capable of protecting their city because higher-ranking deities have decided that it should be destroyed. In the Hebrew Bible, YHWH assumes both protective and destructive functions. Following the example of ancient Near Eastern lamentations over the destruction of cities, God is held responsible for the

LAMENTATIONS 1 AS RESPONSE TO DEFEAT

17

destruction of Jerusalem. But unlike these parallels, Lamentations 1 regards the transgressions, offences, and crimes of men as the reason why God has taken the side of the enemy: “for YHWH hath afflicted Jerusalem for the multitude of her transgressions” (Lamentations 1:5). Human misconduct and violations of the relationships within the community are contrasted with the conviction that God is righteous, as in Lamentations 1:18: The Lord is in the right, for I have rebelled against his word (NRSV)

‫ַצ ִדּיק הוּא ְיה ָוה‬ ‫ִכּי ִפיהוּ ָמ ִריִתי‬

The insight that God is righteous gives rise to the hope of again being accepted by him. It is true that, just as in the psalms of lament, God is held responsible for the situation of distress, but at the same time, the lamentation is directed to him with a prayer for help (Koenen 2015). The texts express a struggle between human responsibility and divine intervention. Lamentations 1:20, a verse already mentioned above, oscillates between two poles: recognizing God as the originator of one’s own distress, itself a logical consequence of God’s righteousness in the face of the people’s sinfulness, and continuing to trust in God as the only one who can deliver one from distress. This tension is a defining characteristic of the Psalms. However, Lamentations 1 essentially lacks any prospect of comfort. In the end, “many sighs” are all that is left for the city that was once inhabited by people from many nations. Lamentations 1:22: For my groans are many and my heart is faint (NRSV)

‫חַתי‬ ֹ ‫ִכּי־ ַרבּוֹת ַא ְנ‬ ‫ְוִלִבּי ַד ָוּי׃‬

The text holds the sins of the people responsible for God’s activity. Human responsibility is one reason for the present desolation. “Sin” (‫חטא‬, verse 8), “transgression” (‫פשׁע‬, verses 14, 22), and “evil doing” (‫רעה‬, verses 21, 22) hint at human misbehaviour towards other people, and behaviour that separates humanity from God. Different voices reflect on the reasons for the disaster. “Defeat is often not only reinterpreted but also theologically qualified … the biblical authors draw on a developed ancient Near Eastern convention of attributing the unfortunate outcome to divine displeasure with the king’s or

18

MARIANNE GROHMANN

people’s actions. In this way, defeat becomes a vindication of the deity’s will and a testimony to the deity’s power” (Wright 2009, 439). As in psalms of lament, God is held responsible for suffering but is at the same time beseeched for help. We find the same combination of ideas: God as a cause of suffering; insight into God’s justice; human responsibility; and adherence to God, who alone can rescue the people from suffering. Although Lamentations 1 does not provide any comfort, at least speaking aloud can be a first step toward overcoming the catastrophe: “With this peculiar form of poetry, the authors obviously tried to overcome the wordless grief” (Maier 2011, 191). These stages result in a wish for “revenge and revanche” (Schivelbusch 2003, 24), which may be reflected in God’s wrath in verses 12 and 22.

4. “RENEWAL” AND OVERCOMING THE TRAUMA: FROM “SPEECHLESS T ERROR ” TO COLLECTIVE MEMORY Psychological and sociological trauma studies have described certain steps in the process of recovery from trauma and the reconstruction of a new collective identity. On an individual level, psychological steps in the grieving process have been applied to the five chapters of the book of Lamentations: denial/isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance (Reimer 2002). Sociological approaches add a collective dimension to the understanding of trauma. Telling the story is part of a new meta-narrative containing certain representations: the nature of pain, the nature of the victim, the relation to the wider audience, and the attribution of responsibility (Alexander 2012, 17–19). These representations of trauma can be applied to the book of Lamentations, especially chapter 1: (1) The nature of pain: Lamentations 1 describes the material destruction of the city (verse 4), the collapse of the symbolic and ritual world (verse 10), the physical suffering of the people, and emotional distress and anguish (verses 2, 20, 22; Boase 2016, 56–57). (2) The nature of the victim: In addition to the personification of the city as a whole, many groups of Jerusalem’s inhabitants are mentioned in Lamentations 1: ‫( כהנים‬priests) in verses 4 and 19; ‫( בתולות‬young women) in verses 4 and 18;

LAMENTATIONS 1 AS RESPONSE TO DEFEAT

19

‫( עוללים‬babies) in verse 5; ‫( שׂרים‬princes) in verse 6; ‫בחורים‬ (young men) in verses 15 and 18; ‫( בנים‬children/sons) in verse 16; and ‫( זקנים‬the elderly) in verse 19. The whole population of the city is affected by the defeat. (3) The relation of the victim to the wider audience: Passers-by in verse 12 and nations in verse 18 “create the impression of an audience separate from the victim group” (Boase 2016, 60). (4) In Lamentations 1, responsibility is attributed to three parties: personified Jerusalem with her former sins (verses 5, 8, 14, 18), the enemies (verses 1–3, 5–7, 9–10, 17, 21), and God (verse 5). “God is described not only as causing the wounding – the trauma – but also as continuing to inflict suffering through failure to see and respond to the people and as refusing to forgive” (Boase 2016, 61). The phase of “renewal” is not prominent in Lamentations 1, but it may be on the horizon. The beginning of the process of remembering the past may be a first step towards renewal. According to trauma studies, terror renders those who experience it speechless at first: “The trauma is the confrontation with an event that, in its unexpectedness or horror, cannot be placed within the schemes of prior knowledge … Not having been fully interpreted as it occurred, the event cannot become … a narrative recovery that is integrated into a completed story of the past” (Caruth 1995, 153). If this is correct, then the literary style and poetic language of Lamentations 1 may indicate that it was not written down immediately after the catastrophe but later on, during the process of coping with the catastrophe. Recalling the trauma after defeat can take the form of a poetic re-enactment of the tragedy: “Lamentations rehearses the traumatic experience – as if the last days of Jerusalem were haunting the book’s successive speakers” (Sonnet 2016, 350). At the same time, this memorizing and recollecting can be the first step in overcoming the trauma. Christl Maier uses Jan Assmann’s concept of “collective memory” (Assmann 1995) to describe what is going on in Lamentations 1: “the collective memory of a group or society is the sum of ideas and knowledge gathered to establish its identity” (Maier 2011, 189). The destruction of Jerusalem in 587 BCE greatly influenced the collective memory of the city’s popu-

20

MARIANNE GROHMANN

lation. By personifying Jerusalem as female, the book generates a close relationship between the city and its population (Maier 2011, 190). The personification of the city in the female figure of “Daughter Zion” in Lamentations 1 shaped Israel’s collective memory in two ways: (1) personified Zion attests to a broken relationship between the city, its population, and God; (2) it sustains the reader’s emotional connection to the space. The female figure generates hope for the survivors of the catastrophe in Judah and in exile, and expectations of rebuilding the city (Maier 2011, 192). Describing the suffering resulting from defeat and destruction may be an attempt at self-consolation. “Verbalizing pain and telling one’s story of suffering often has a cathartic and healing effect” (Maier 2011, 196). We find this process of collective memory, the starting point of remembering and mourning, in Lamentations 1:7a, mentioned above. Although the text offers little comfort, speaking about distress may be a first step: “Jerusalem remembers” (verse 7). The key word ‫ זכר‬is used frequently in this context. It describes at least the beginning of a process of remembering and lamenting in order to cope with the disaster. According to refugee studies, living in a memorialized past is a specific quality of the post-traumatic experience. Establishing identity in the present (‘who I am’) is based on identities from the past (‘who I was’; Carr 2011, 297–299). There are examples of this memorialized past in Lamentations 1. In verse 1, we find a juxtaposition of the people’s identity in the past and present: They have gone from a nation full of people (‫בגוים‬/‫ )רבתי עם‬to a lonely one (‫בדד‬/‫)אלמנה‬, from a princess among the provinces (‫ )שׂרתי במדינות‬to a tributary (‫)מס‬. Verse 6 contrasts the former glory (‫ )הדר‬with the present situation of weakness (‫)בלא כוח‬. Another movement towards overcoming the trauma in the text is the appeal “to see”, addressed mainly to God (verses 9, 11, 20) but also to passers-by (verse 12) and all people (verse 18). This is a cry for help and attention. In contrast to the enemies and Jerusalem herself seeing her downfall, the appeal for God to see is a way to live on after defeat.

LAMENTATIONS 1 AS RESPONSE TO DEFEAT

21

5. CULTURE OF DEFEAT It is clear that the biblical lamentations were written after a historical event of destruction from the perspective of the defeated. It remains an open question whether they were written after a direct experience of defeat or from the distance of at least one generation. The different voices incorporate different perspectives on the catastrophe. At least three dimensions of defeat are reflected in Lamentations 1: miserable living conditions, oppression by enemies, and the absence of God. The functions of defeat in Lamentations 1 are: (1) Self-critical: Reflecting the responsibility of the people (verses 5, 8, 14, 22); (2) Religious: The voices in the song complain about the absence of God (verses 2, 12) but at the same time address him in hopes of change (verses 9c, 11c, 20a); and (3) Part of the foundation myth of Israel/Judah after the Babylonian Exile (verse 7): “defeat represents a creative historiographical construct of a collective group” (Wright 2009, 439). In combining the collective and individual levels, the poetic text draws a picture of defeat in an encompassing way: “Lamentations can be read as an example of … a trauma process. The story of suffering is told, the victims – in this case the entire community – are identified, and an explanation of causality is offered. In the interplay of voices we see modelled a movement from the fragmentation and isolation of individual suffering to the formation of a new communal identity under the narrative of shared trauma” (Boase 2016, 62). It mainly mourns defeat and destruction but at least contains some elements of overcoming trauma and living on after defeat. Although the biblical lamentations represent a literary reflection of a historical event, the second type of ancient Mesopotamian lamentation, the cultic lament, is relevant for the biblical texts as well. The aspect of “pacifying the hearts of the gods” (Gabbay 2014) and “the recognition that what triumphs today will be defeated tomorrow” (Schivelbusch 2003, 2) may be relevant backgrounds for Lamentations 1 as well, and are worthy of further discussion.

22

MARIANNE GROHMANN

ABBREVIATIONS JPS NRSV

Jewish Publication Society of America Version (Bible Translation) New Revised Standard Version (Bible Translation)

BIBLIOGRAPHY Albertz, Rainer 2001. Die Exilszeit: 6. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Biblische Enzyklopädie 7. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer. Alexander, Jeffrey C. 2012. Trauma: A Social Theory. Cambridge: Polity. Ames, Frank R. 2011. “The Cascading Effects of Exile: From Diminished Resources to New Identities.” In Interpreting Exile: Displacement and Deportation in Biblical and Modern Contexts. Ancient Israel and its Literature 10, edited by Brad E. Kelle, Frank R. Ames, and Jacob L. Wright, 173–187. Atlanta, GA: Society of Biblical Literature. Assmann, Jan 1995. “Collective Memory and Cultural Identity.” New German Critique 65: 125–133. Berges, Ulrich 2002. Klagelieder. Herders Theologischer Kommentar zum Alten Testament. Freiburg, Basel, Wien: Herder. Berlin, Adele 2002. Lamentations: A Commentary. Old Testament Library. Louisville, London: Westminster John Knox Press. Boase, Elizabeth 2016. “Fragmented Voices: Collective Identity and Traumatization in Lamentations.” In Bible through the Lens of Trauma. Semeia Studies 86, edited by Elizabeth Boase and Christopher G. Frechette, 49–66. Atlanta, GA: Society of Biblical Literature Press. Carr, David M. 2011. “Reading into the Gap. Refractions of Trauma in Israelite Prophecy.” In Interpreting Exile: Displacement and Deportation in Biblical and Modern Contexts. Ancient Israel and its Literature 10, edited by Brad E. Kelle, Frank R. Ames, and Jacob L. Wright, 295–308. Atlanta, GA: Society of Biblical Literature. Carr, David M. 2014. Holy Resilience: The Bible’s Traumatic Origins. New Haven: Yale University Press. Caruth, Cathy 1995. “Introduction: Recapturing the Past.” In Trauma: Explorations in Memory, edited by Cathy Caruth, 151–157. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.

LAMENTATIONS 1 AS RESPONSE TO DEFEAT

23

Cuéllar, Gregory L. 2008. Voices of Marginality: Exile and Return in Second Isaiah 40–55 and the Mexican Immigrant Experience. New York: Peter Lang Publishing Inc. Gesenius, Wilhelm 2007. Hebräisches und Aramäisches Handwörterbuch über das Alte Testament. Berlin: Springer. Frevel, Christian 2017. Die Klagelieder. Neuer Stuttgarter Kommentar zum Alten Testament 20/1. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk. Gabbay, Uri 2014. Pacifying the Hearts of the Gods: Sumerian Emesal Prayers of the First Millennium BC. Heidelberger EmesalStudien 1. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Grohmann, Marianne 2016. “Interpreting the Destruction of Jerusalem and the Beginning of Exile.” In Let the Wise Listen and Add to Their Learning (Prov 1:5). Festschrift for Günter Stemberger on the Occasion of his 75th Birthday. Studia Judaica 90, edited by Constanza Cordoni and Gerhard Langer, 11–28. Berlin, Boston: De Gruyter. Jahnow, Hedwig 1923. Das hebräische Leichenlied im Rahmen der Völkerdichtung, Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 36. Gießen: Töpelmann. Kaiser, Otto, and Bernd Janowski, eds. 1986. Texte aus der Umwelt des Alten Testaments Band II. Orakel, Rituale, Bau- und Votivinschriften, Lieder und Gebete. Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus Mohn. Kelle, Brad E. 2011. “An Interdisciplinary Approach to the Exile.” In Interpreting Exile: Displacement and Deportation in Biblical and Modern Contexts. Ancient Israel and its Literature 10, edited by Brad E. Kelle, Frank R. Ames, and Jacob L. Wright, 5–38. Atlanta, GA: Society of Biblical Literature. Kessler, Rainer 2008. Sozialgeschichte des Alten Israel. Eine Einführung. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft. Koenen, Klaus 2014. Klagelieder (Threni). Biblischer Kommentar zum Alten Testament 20/1. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Theologie. Koenen, Klaus 2015. “Klagelieder Jeremias.” Das wissenschaftliche Bibellexikon im Internet (WiBiLex). 20.09.2018. http://www.bibelwissenschaft.de/stichwort/23640/.

24

MARIANNE GROHMANN

Labahn, Antje 2002. “Trauern als Bewältigung der Vergangenheit zur Gestaltung der Zukunft. Bemerkungen zur anthropologischen Theologie der Klagelieder.” Vetus Testamentum 52, 513– 527. Lee, Nancy C. 2002. The Singers of Lamentations. Cities under Siege, from Ur to Jerusalem to Sarajevo. Leiden: Brill. Lee, Nancy C., and Carleen Mandolfo, eds. 2008. Lamentations in Ancient and Contemporary Cultural Contexts. Atlanta, GA: Society of Biblical Literature. Lipschits, Oded 2005. The Fall and Rise of Jerusalem. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Maier, Christl M. 2011. “Lost Space and Revived Memory. From Jerusalem in 586 B.C.E. to New Orleans in 2009.” In Interpreting Exile: Displacement and Deportation in Biblical and Modern Contexts. Ancient Israel and its Literature 10, edited by Brad E. Kelle, Frank R. Ames, and Jacob L. Wright, 189–201. Atlanta, GA: Society of Biblical Literature. Reimer, David J. 2002. “Good Grief? A Psychological Reading of Lamentations.” Zeitschrift für die Alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 114, 542–559. Schivelbusch, Wolfgang 2003. The Culture of Defeat: On National Trauma, Mourning, and Recovery. Translated by Jefferson Chase. New York: Picador. Smith-Christopher, Daniel L. 2011. “Reading War and Trauma: Suggestions Toward a Social-Psychological Exegesis of Exile and War in Biblical Texts.” In Interpreting Exile: Displacement and Deportation in Biblical and Modern Contexts. Ancient Israel and its Literature 10, edited by Brad E. Kelle, Frank R. Ames, and Jacob L. Wright, 253–274. Atlanta, GA: Society of Biblical Literature. Sonnet, Jean-Pierre 2016. “Writing the Disaster: Trauma, Resilience and Fortschreibung.” In The Fall of Jerusalem and the Rise of Torah. Forschungen zum Alten Testatment 107, edited by Peter Dubovský, Dominik Markl, and Jean-Pierre Sonnet, 349–357. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Thomas, Heath A. 2013. “A Survey of Research on Lamentations (2002–2012).” Currents in Biblical Research 12, 8–38.

LAMENTATIONS 1 AS RESPONSE TO DEFEAT

25

Thompson, Thomas L. 1999. The Mythic Past: Biblical Archaeology and the Myth of Israel. New York: Basic Books. Wright, Jacob L. 2009. “The Commemoration of Defeat and the Formation of a Nation in the Hebrew Bible.” Prooftexts 29, 433–473.

WHY WAS PSALM 79 COMPOSED? YAIR ZAKOVITCH ABSTRACT The Babylonian destruction of Jerusalem created a problem in the comprehension of Psalm 78: Why did God, who rejected Ephraim and chose instead Judah and Jerusalem, permit the Babylonians to destroy the Kingdom of Judah and His Holy Temple in Jerusalem? The resolution lies in the perception that Judah, precisely like Ephraim, did not relate the Lord’s wondrous saving acts – and therefore fell into sin. The worshippers of Psalm 79 took the lesson to heart: They beg for forgiveness for their transgressions and promise to retell God’s mighty deeds. The didactic message concerning the importance of the story, which appears in the introduction of Psalm 78 (verses 1–8), comes to fulfillment at the end of Psalm 79 (verse 13).

1. According to Masechet Soferim,1 on the Hebrew date of the 9th of Av (which commemorates the destructions of both of the Temples of Jerusalem) one is to recite Psalm 79, Psalm 137, and the Scroll of Lamentations (of primary liturgical importance). Indeed, Psalm 79 was written under the terrible impact of the desecration of the TemOne of the ‘minor tractates’, Masechet Soferim, apparently written in the 8th century CE in the Land of Israel, is an anonymous collection of laws and legal rulings relating to the writing out of Torah scrolls, prayer practices, etc. 1

27

28

YAIR ZAKOVITCH

ple by the Babylonians, upon which were heaped the catastrophes of the destruction of Jerusalem and the brutal killing of its inhabitants.2 The mourners in the psalm plead for God’s mercy and expect Him to forgive the people’s sins, while entreating Him to take revenge upon the enemy nations.3 The question is: aside from the need to express these longings, does the psalm conceal another motivation that necessitated its composition? In order to answer this question, we shall open with the presentation of the psalm’s structure and the rhetorical process it expresses: a. What have the nations done to You (verses 1–3) b. Our neighbours have disgraced us (verse 4) c. Take revenge against the nations for what they have done to us (verses 5–7) Forgive us and have mercy upon us (verses 8–9) d. Take revenge against the nations for what they have done to us (verse 10) Have mercy upon us (verse 11) e. Take revenge against our neighbours for the disgrace with which they have disgraced You (verse 12) f. What will we do for You? (verse 13)4 In their petition to the Lord, the worshippers describe first the damage done to Him by their enemies – to His sanctuary, His city, and finally to His devoted servants. Not only have they been murdered, but they also have been deprived of any type of burial, so that their corpses have been left “as food for the fowl of heaven, and the flesh 2 For the rejection of the possibility that this psalm was composed under different historical circumstances, and the determination that it was composed on the heels of the Babylonian conquest and the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple, see Tate 1990, 298. 3 In constructing his composition, the psalm’s poet relied on both Psalm 74 and on numerous texts from Jeremiah as his building materials. See Hossfeld and Zenger 2005, 305. 4 For the possibility of a somewhat different concentric structure, see Hossfeld and Zenger 2005, 303. For concentric structures as a widespread phenomenon in biblical literature, see (in reference to biblical narrative) Klaus 1999.

WHY WAS PSALM 79 COMPOSED?

29

of Your faithful for the wild beasts” (verse 2).5 It is no surprise, therefore, that the grievance done by the nations to all that belongs and is precious to the Lord instigated the mockery of Judah’s neighbours, before whom the Judahites are powerless (verse 4). The worshippers know very well that God’s anger against them is the cause of their abandonment (verse 5), and they implore Him to channel His fury towards the nations who do not acknowledge Him (verse 6), and who have gravely harmed His faithful – Jacob, the people of God – in their own land (verse 7). Because they have internalized the lesson that their suffering is divine punishment, they confess their “former iniquities,” and they look forward to His mercy (verse 8). It appears that the “former iniquities” refers to the sins of previous generations, as in the words of Jeremiah: “They have returned to the iniquities of their fathers of old” (Jeremiah 11:10). For the concept that the Babylonian destruction was punishment for the ancestors’ sins, see also: “Our fathers have sinned and are no more; and we have suffered their guilt” (Lamentations 5:7). In the next verse (verse 9) of Psalm 79, however, they regain their composure and are ready to admit to their own sins: “Save us and forgive our sins,” out of an understanding that only full repentance will enable them to receive God’s absolution. In the continuation in Lamentations also, the petitioners confess to their own sinfulness: “Woe to us that we have sinned!” (Lamentations 5:16). For the combination of the ancestors’ iniquities with those of the generation that undergoes punishment see: “and they shall confess their iniquity and the iniquity of their fathers” (Leviticus 26:40; similarly, Nehemiah 9:2). Once they have confessed their sins, they can expect forgiveness and mercy. They again anticipate the Lord’s revenge for their spilt blood against the nations who scorn Him and His power (verse 10), while beseeching Him to be compassionate to His people who are groaning in their anguish (verse 11).

Note that all translations here are based upon the NJPS translation with adjustments as deemed necessary by the author.

5

30

YAIR ZAKOVITCH

The worshippers also desire that their neighbours who derided them (verse 4) will not be exonerated, because their derision was actually directed against God (verse 12). After they have expressed their wish to see the Lord’s mighty deeds for the sake of His name (verse 9), they relate to the Lord their own intentions to act for His name’s sake (verse 13): while the nations acted against You (verses 1–3), “we shall glorify You forever; for all time we shall tell Your praises.” It is now necessary to note that in verses 8–12, which seek divine intervention, there are exchanges of emphasis between those words that focus on the petitioners and those that focus on God or His name: The petitioners (verse 8) God (verse 10a) The petitioners (verse 11)

God and His name (verse 9) The petitioners (verse 10b) God (verse 12)

These exchanges one-after-the-other are intended to convey that God’s actions, for His sake or the sake of His name, and for the sake of His people are one and the same – and that an act only for the sake of His name or only on behalf of His people will not succeed. Since the last request derives from the neighbours’ mockery of God, one notices a sharp contrast between the relationship of the neighbouring nations to God and that of the petitioners – His people and His flock, who obligate themselves to honour Him and to tell His praises forever.

2. Much attention is paid in ancient rabbinic literature to the juxtaposition of literary units in the Bible. In this literature, it is common to find questions such as “Why is x next to y?” (as in Sukkah 2a) or “What does x have to do next to y?” (for example, Berachot 15b). These questions are based upon the assumption that the textual juxtaposition of different literary units sheds light on an additional layer of significance. The conclusion is that every literary unit has more than a single meaning – one meaning by itself, and a separate meaning in its position between its neighbours. The ancient rabbis presented the question of the importance of the juxtaposition of units as obvious. However, the biblical writers-editors themselves were already aware of the importance of juxtaposition when they came to

WHY WAS PSALM 79 COMPOSED?

31

edit their works.6 The Book of Psalms is no exception,7 and every juxtaposition between two psalms is worthy of consideration: Is the relationship of juxtaposition merely associative, or does the placement of two psalms next to one another testify to a substantial, logical connection that adds an interpretive dimension to them both? In order to comprehend the relationship between Psalm 79 and its predecessor, it is necessary to first state something about Psalm 78 – a didactic, historical psalm that surveys the progress of events from the plagues in Egypt to the choosing of Judah, of Jerusalem as the place of the sanctuary that the Lord Himself built (!), and of David, who is the only named individual in the psalm. At this point, the structure and process of Psalm 78 will be examined: a. Awareness of God’s wonders and recounting them causes the observance of His commandments (verses 1–8) b. Ephraim is punished for neither observing God’s commandments nor remembering His deeds (verses 9–16) c. Israel sinned in the wilderness despite having witnessed their own deliverance, so they have been punished (verses 17–18) d. After punishment, they have seemingly repented, but then sinned again. God showed them mercy (verses 32–39) e. Israel sinned in the wilderness despite witnessing how God struck their enemies in Egypt (verses 40–55) f. Israel and Ephraim, their leader, are punished; Shiloh is destroyed (verses 56–67) g. Judah, Jerusalem, and David are chosen (verses 68–72) The psalm is thus divided into seven parts clearly separated from each other. On the phenomenon of juxtaposition of units and its significance in the Bible in both Second Temple and ancient rabbinic literature, see Shinan and Zakovitch 2015, 322–342. 7 For the manifestation of the phenomenon of juxtaposition of units and its significance in different sections of the Book of Psalms, see Zakovitch 2010, 215–227; Zakovitch 2014, 214–228. 6

32

YAIR ZAKOVITCH

The introduction articulates the credo of the poet-sage vis-à-vis the connection between the memory and telling the stories of God’s wonders on the one hand, and the observance of the commandments on the other (verses 1–8). He then turns to delineating the failures of the tribe of Ephraim, who did not keep the commandments or remember the Lord’s miracles (verse 9). The last of the miracles that the Lord wrought in the desert for Ephraim’s ancestors – which they did not recall – was the provision of water from the rock (verses 15– 16). That marvellous deed is the link to the following sub-unit: the sins of the people in the desert when they had tried the Lord – after He had already given them water (!) – by demanding a feast. From the third to the sixth sub-units (here listed as c. to f.), each section opens as if with a refrain: c. “But they went on sinning against Him, defying the Most High in the parched land. To test God was in their mind…” (verses 17–18). d. “Nonetheless, they went on sinning and had no faith in His wonders” (verse 32). e. “How often did they defy Him in the wilderness, did they grieve Him in the wasteland! Again and again they tested God…” (verses 40–41). f. “Yet they defiantly tested God Most High…” (verse 56). The transition from the sixth to the seventh section is clear and is defined by a chiastic opposition between verse 67, which closes the sixth section, and verse 68, which opens the seventh: v. 67: “He rejected the clan of Joseph; v. 68: “He did choose the tribe of Judah,

He did not choose the tribe of Ephraim” Mount Zion, which He loved”

Indeed, the entire structure of Psalm 78 is chiastic, which is demonstrable by proceeding from the heart of the psalm to its extremities. The heart of the psalm, section ‘d’, has no comparable section. In it, the poet, without reference to any specific events, gives voice to his historiosophic concept concerning the repeating cycle of sin despite the Lord’s mercies and acts of salvation. The sections on either side – ‘c’ and ‘e’ – relate the wrongful acts of the ungrateful people who, despite seeing their divine rescue with their own eyes, multiplied

WHY WAS PSALM 79 COMPOSED?

33

their misdeeds in the desert. These two sections deal with these sins, but from different viewpoints: while section ‘c’ recounts the Lord saving His people with food and drink, section ‘e’ emphasizes His goodness to them by smiting their enemies. Section ‘e’ speaks of the plagues against Egypt and saving the people at the Red Sea, and chronologically returns its readers to a more distant past than that depicted in section ‘c’. 8 Section ‘e’ goes on to tell of Israel’s entrance into its land, which was accompanied by the expulsion of its former inhabitants – another divine strike against Israel’s enemies. The importance of, and the focus on, enemies in section ‘e’ marks the transition to section ‘f’ in which the people of Israel itself – in actuality, the tribe of Ephraim, the leader of the people – are transposed into God’s enemies because of their sinfulness. Hence, He will now do to them what He had done in the past to their enemies. Section ‘f’, which relates the devastation of Ephraim and the removal of the Lord’s presence from the sanctuary at Shiloh (in the territory of Ephraim), parallels section ‘b’, which, as noted, tells of the defeat of Ephraim. Section ‘f’ then, reveals that which section ‘b’ concealed: It identifies Ephraim’s defeat by the Philistines (compare 1 Samuel 4) and expands the description of this outcome. All that now remains is to explore the relationship between the two sections that stand at the ends of the psalm – ‘a’ and ‘g’. The recognition that the seventh section (‘g’) must stand in some kind of correlation with the first section (‘a’) derives from the examination of the parallels between the other counterpart sections. This recognition leads to the conclusion that the choice of Jerusalem and the Davidic dynasty expounded in section ‘g’ is not absolute, permanent, or unconditional. On the contrary, only if succeeding generations remember the Lord’s wonders and observe His commandments – and will not be like their rebellious ancestors – will they avoid the bitter fate of those who preceded them. What then is the psalm’s message? The essence of the psalm is entangled with the tension that reverberates between God’s acts of 8 This provides a response to the amazement expressed by Anthony F. Campbell concerning the improper location in the psalm of the Egyptian plagues; see Campbell 1979, 56.

34

YAIR ZAKOVITCH

loving kindness to His people and the thanklessness with which they repay their God. As the Lord’s goodness increased, so did the people’s sinfulness and faithlessness. The people’s ultimate rejection of their God occurred after He had bestowed upon them His great boon of settling Israel upon its land and establishing His presence in Shiloh – at which time they turned against Him and chose idolatry. The Lord’s victorious wars against the people’s enemies in Egypt and Canaan did not succeed in bringing Israel to repentance. Indeed, the opposite happened. Inevitably, the disastrous stage of the God-Israel relationship reached its nadir: Israel turned into the Lord’s enemy and was punished with the destruction of Shiloh, and the attendant removal of His presence from it. The Holy Ark of the Covenant was taken captive. The psalm’s poet lays the blame squarely at the feet of the tribe of Ephraim, who exercised hegemony over Israel. Ephraim failed in battle and retreated (verse 9), permitting the Ark to fall into the enemy’s hands. The Lord then abandoned Ephraim, for the tribe did not learn the important lesson articulated in the psalm’s introduction: no blessing can hover over a place or people where God’s commandments are not kept. These commandments, in turn, are dependent upon the memory of the Lord’s wonders – in their telling and transmission from generation to generation. Indeed, this dependency is the entire Torah on one foot – and this one idea explains the reason for the integration of the commandments within the historiographic fabric of the Pentateuch. After God discarded Ephraim and deserted His sanctuary in Shiloh, He still delayed pouring forth His ire and granted His people a second chance: He chose David – who, as mentioned above, is the only person named in the psalm – and with him, the psalm comes to an end. David is appointed by the Lord to shepherd His people, because God Himself failed in that role. The language that specifies God’s leadership, in that He shepherded His people Israel (verses 52– 53), is repeated at the end of the psalm in reference to David. The people need a human shepherd (a shepherd and not necessarily a ‘king’, a term that does not appear at all in the psalm) to lead them, for they are unable to apprehend the essence of divine leadership. The choice of Judah, Jerusalem, and David appears to be unconditional, but in understanding that the end of the psalm is only

WHY WAS PSALM 79 COMPOSED?

35

part of the whole – in accordance with the structure of the entire psalm – the reader is obliged to pay attention to the connection between the end of the psalm and its beginning. God’s choice is a wonderful opportunity – a revelation of divine kindness unlike any other – but it requires comprehension and recognition that Israel’s positive future is only possible if they keep the Lord’s commandments: “and not be like their fathers, a wayward and defiant generation, a generation whose heart was inconstant, whose spirit was not true to God” (verse 8). Further, faithfulness to God is only conceivable if the people remember His miracles on their behalf – His kindness to Israel in the past. The Lord has done His part – He has chosen Jerusalem and David. Israel is now commanded to do its part – to keep the Torah, for that is its wisdom. When was Psalm 78 composed? Apparently, a number of considerations join together to fix the date of its composition during the time of Josiah. The psalm portrays the rejection of Ephraim, a rejection which becomes transparent with the fall of the kingdom of Ephraim (722 BCE), and the same language was used by the deuteronomistic editor of the Book of Kings in reference to the destruction of that kingdom (compare verse 67 with 2 Kings 17:20).9 In place of the Lord spurning Ephraim and the Shiloh sanctuary, the psalm speaks of God choosing Judah, Jerusalem, and David – the characteristic ideology of deuteronomistic literature. In particular, it is worthwhile noting that the psalm’s perception is that of Deuteronomy itself – the centralization of the cult. No possibility exists for the proliferation of sanctuaries. Rather, the Jerusalem Temple will be established in place of the ruins of the Shiloh sanctuary. The incident of the finding of the book of the Torah related in the Book of Kings (2 Kings 22), and the determination of King Josiah to cleave to the Torah, is paralleled in Psalm 78 by its clear identification with the Torah and its language. The psalm’s deuteronomistic ideology is frequently shaped by the language of Deuteronomy and the deuteronomistic literature that was written subsequently (see already, JunThe fall of Jerusalem was also expressed by the deuteronomistic editor in similar words; see 2 Kings 23:27. However, that is already a later layer in the editing process.

9

36

YAIR ZAKOVITCH

ker 1953, 487–500). To this ideology must be traced the concept of praise for the stories of God’s wonders and their transmission from father to son, a transference that guarantees the observance of the Torah’s commandments (see, for example, Deuteronomy 6:20–24). This psalm also reflects a transparent association with wisdom literature (specifically in the first section, and especially in the opening language of verses 1–2); further proof of its identification with the world of the deuteronomistic school, which itself is deeply connected to wisdom circles and literature (Weinfeld 1972, 365; preceded by Junker 1953, 498). The days of Josiah, the age of the flowering of the deuteronomistic school in general and particularly of Deuteronomy itself,10 were a time of hope for Jerusalem and the Davidic dynasty from both religious and political perspectives (Tadmor 1969, 149–150), due to his reforms. These days were fertile ground, especially suited for the composition of Psalm 78 (see also, Clifford 1981, 144). What has been written above about the conditionality of the divine promise fits this period exceptionally well, as is evinced by Jeremiah’s comparison of the fate of Shiloh with the potential fate of Jerusalem (Jeremiah 7:12–15; 26:6.9 – dated to the beginning of Jehoiakim’s reign [Jeremiah 26:1] shortly after the death of Josiah). The psalm, as noted, limits itself to mentioning only one person – David. The choice of David is the ideal, and is the model for the deuteronomistic literature’s aspirations for Josiah, as is unrestrainedly stated in the Book of Kings: “He did what was pleasing to the Lord and he followed all the ways of his ancestor David; he did not deviate to the right or to the left” (2 Kings 22:2). That which ensued between the days of David and Josiah was far less than desirable, but Josiah’s devotion to the Torah gave rise to the hope for the reinstitution of the days of old –

10 De Wette was the first to connect Josiah and his cultic reforms following the finding of the book of the Torah in the Temple (2 Kings 22–23) with Deuteronomy, even though one should not accept his view that Josiah’s 18th year (2 Kings 22:3) was the date of Deuteronomy’s composition. Clearly, the deuteronomistic school and Deuteronomy specifically influenced the spiritual and religious life in Judah during Josiah’s reign.

WHY WAS PSALM 79 COMPOSED?

37

when the Lord’s kindness to His people was manifested through His choice of David. It is impossible to date the psalm to the time of the destruction and its aftermath, 11 for if the Temple already lay in ruins, what sense would it have made for the poet to speak about the preferentiality of Judah over Ephraim, or the partiality of Jerusalem over Shiloh? It must be that the Temple still stood in all its glory when the psalm was written.

3. Our analysis of the structure and message of Psalm 78 disclosed that God’s choice of Jerusalem was also conditional, and dependent upon the people observing His commandments. This observation is inconceivable without the story of the Lord’s wondrous deeds – without the awareness of God’s kindnesses to His people, and the bestowing of this tradition from generation to generation. However, the destruction of the Temple and Jerusalem, along with the end of the kingdom of Judah, creates a problem: Why – after the Lord had rejected Ephraim and chosen Judah, and transferred hegemony to it – did these catastrophes occur? The only possible response to this question – which is conscious of Psalm 78’s message – is that the Judahites also did not behave in accord with the commandments and did not tell the story of God’s wonders, and therefore sinned and brought upon themselves His wrath – which resulted in the destruction. Indeed, this answer emerges from Psalm 79, which reveals an affinity, as well as lines of both comparison and contrast, with Psalm 78:

11 Academic scholars have proposed dates for the composition of Psalm 78 that extend over many hundreds of years. Those who see the psalm as early rely first and foremost on the fact that the last event mentioned in it is the building of Solomon’s Temple, and therefore date the composition to the United Monarchy (e.g., Eissfeldt 1958, 31–33; Campbell 1979, 68–70). On the other hand, some wish to date the psalm as late as the post-exilic period, dressing it in an anti-Samarian polemic, and identifying the fingerprints of late biblical literature (e.g., Briggs and Briggs 1907, 181). For the position proposed here, that the psalm was written prior to the destruction, see Weiser 1962, 540.

38

YAIR ZAKOVITCH

A. In Psalm 78, the Lord’s kindness to His people is on display – He ejects nations before them in order to settle them on their heritage: “He brought them to His holy realm … He expelled nations before them … allowing them their portion by the line” (Psalm 78:54–55). Psalm 79 portrays Judah’s punishment – the nations terminate Israel’s residence on their heritage: “O God, nations have entered Your portion, defiled Your holy temple” (Psalm 79:1). B. In Psalm 78, Ephraim became God’s enemy, and suffered humiliation: “He beat back His foes, dealing them lasting disgrace” (Psalm 78:66). In Psalm 79, humiliation is Judah’s punishment: “We have become the disgrace of our neighbours” (Psalm 79:4). The worshippers’ expectation is that repentance will reverse their plight, so that their enemies shall now be greatly humiliated: “Pay back our neighbours sevenfold for the disgrace [with which] they have disgraced You, O Lord” (Psalm 79:12). C. The central section ‘d’ (discussed above) of Psalm 78 points out how great the Lord’s mercies were in order to forgive His people’s sins: “But He being merciful, forgave iniquity, and would not destroy; He restrained His wrath …” (Psalm 78:38). After Judah was punished for its sins, its people seek God’s forgiveness: “Do not hold our former iniquities against us…” (Psalm 79:8), “Save us and forgive our sins for the sake of Your name” (Psalm 79:9). D. The didactic introduction to Psalm 78 emphasizes the importance of relating the story: “… things we have heard and known that our fathers have told us. We will not withhold them from their children, telling the coming generation the praises of the Lord” (Psalm 78:3–4). “That a future generation might know… and in turn tell their children” (Psalm 78:6). At the close of Psalm 79, the Judahites recognize the significance of the story, and promise to act accordingly: “… for all time we shall tell Your praises” (Psalm 79:13). The chiastic relationship between the structures of both psalms is noteworthy: The importance of telling Destroying Jerusalem

Choosing Jerusalem (Psalm 78) The importance of telling (Psalm 79)

WHY WAS PSALM 79 COMPOSED?

39

E. In Psalm 78, the Lord shepherds His people in the desert: “He set His people moving like sheep, drove them like a flock in the wilderness” (Psalm 78:52). When He realized that His leadership was not sufficient for them, and that they needed a human shepherd, He appointed David over them: “He brought him from minding the nursing ewes to shepherd His people Jacob, Israel His very own. He shepherded them with blameless heart, with skilful hands he led them” (Psalm 78:71–72). At the end of Psalm 79, the people comprehend what they did not understand throughout the period described in Psalm 78, that the Lord is their shepherd: “Then we, Your people, the sheep You shepherd shall glorify You …” (Psalm 79:13). Thus, Psalm 79 finds the solution to the problem raised by Psalm 78 with the advent of destruction: Like Ephraim, Judah did not grasp the importance of telling the story of God’s wondrous acts, which resulted in disaster. The worshippers in Psalm 79 both understood and inculcated the lesson: they plead for forgiveness for their sins and they are mindful that the Lord is the One who shepherds them. Now, they promise to praise Him and to recount His wonders. The didactic lesson at the beginning of Psalm 78 has been internalized at the end of Psalm 79. In light of the above, it is now obvious that Psalm 79 fits well after Psalm 78 due to the points of comparison and contrast it demonstrates with its predecessor. It therefore seems reasonable to conclude that Psalm 79 was written both as a continuation of, and as a response to, Psalm 78 in the aftermath of the Babylonian destruction. Theoretically, it is possible to arrive at a different conclusion – that Psalms 78 and 79 were originally a single composition that was written after the destruction and that at some point, for some reason, it was divided in two. Nevertheless, the closed structure of each of the two psalms does not support that possibility. The author of Psalm 79 must have experienced the destruction of Jerusalem, and confronted it along with the obliteration of its chosen status in Psalm 78. This new, terrible reality required the composition of a theological-rational psalm that would explain the destruction and would articulate the hope for the resurrection of Jerusalem and Judah – a hope that springs forth from learning and internalizing the message that was delivered in Psalm 78.

40

YAIR ZAKOVITCH

ABBREVIATIONS NJPS

New Jewish Publication Society Version (Bible Translation)

BIBLIOGRAPHY Briggs, Charles A. and Emily G. Briggs 1907. The Book of Psalms, 2. International Critical Commentary. Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark. Campbell, Anthony F. 1979. “Psalm 78: A Contribution to the Theology of Tenth Century Israel.” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 41(1): 51–79. Clifford, Richard J. 1981. “In Zion and David a New Beginning: An Interpretation of Psalm 78.” In Traditions in Transformation. Turning Points in Biblical Faith. Festschrift Honoring Frank Moore Cross, edited by Baruch Halpern and Jon D. Levenson, 121–141. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Eissfeldt, Otto 1958. Das Lied Moses Deuteronomium 32:1–43 und das Lehrgedicht Asaphs Psalm 78 samt einer Analyse der Umgebung des Mose-Liedes. Berichte über die Verhandlungen der Sächsischen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Leipzig, Philosophisch-historische Klasse 104(5). Berlin: Akademie-Verlag. Hossfeld, Frank-Lothar and Erich Zenger 2005. Psalms 2. Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress. Junker, Hubert 1953. “Die Entstehungszeit des Ps. 78 und des Deuteronomiums.” Biblica 34: 487–500. Klaus, Nathan 1999. Pivot Patterns in the Former Prophets. Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement Series 247. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press. Shinan, Avigdor and Yair Zakovitch 2015. “Why is ‘A’ Placed Next to ‘B’? Juxtaposition in the Bible and Beyond.” In Tradition, Transmission, and Transformation from Second Temple Literature through Judaism and Christianity in Late Antiquity, edited by Menachem Kister, Hillel I. Newman, Michael Segal, and Ruth A. Clements, 322–342. Leiden: Brill. Tadmor, Hayim 1969. “The First Temple Period and the Return to Zion” (Hebrew). In The History of Israel in Ancient Times, edited by Hayim Ben Sasson, 149–150. Tel Aviv: Dvir.

WHY WAS PSALM 79 COMPOSED?

41

Tate, Marvin E. 1990. Psalms 51–100. Dallas: Word Biblical Commentary. Weinfeld, Moshe 1972. Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Weiser, Artur 1962. The Psalms. Old Testament Library. Philadelphia: Westminster Press. Zakovitch, Yair 2010. “The Interpretive Significance of the Sequence of Psalms 111–112, 113–118, 119.” In The Composition of the Book of Psalms, edited by Erich Zenger, 215–227. Leuven: Peeters Publishers. Zakovitch, Yair 2014. “On the Ordering of Psalms as Demonstrated by Psalms 136–150.” In The Oxford Handbook of the Psalms, edited by William P. Brown, 214–228. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

PICTURING DEFEAT TO BUILD RESILIENCE: A READING OF THE FIRST BOOK OF THE HEBREW PSALTER1 DANILO VERDE ABSTRACT The representation of defeat is widespread in the first book of the Hebrew Psalter (Psalms 1–41) and always concerns the psalmists’ enemies. Thanks to YHWH’s intervention, the psalmists themselves are often described as extremely vulnerable but never definitively vanquished. On a linguistic and literary level, images of defeat, vulnerability, and deliverance are mainly created through the language of the body, and aimed at building resilience in ancient Israel’s postexilic community.

INTRODUCTION In his fascinating and provocative work The Culture of Defeat: On National Trauma, Mourning, and Recovery (2004), Wolfgang Schivelbusch argued that even though history may be written by the victors, the final word often belongs to the vanquished, in the sense that vanquished societies often find ways to cope with the experience of defeat and rebuild their shattered identities. One of the many 1 I would like to thank the FWO (Research Foundation Flanders) for funding my project Trauma, Poetry, and the Body in the Psalter, of which this paper is part.

43

44

DANILO VERDE

strategies used by the vanquished to cope with the experience of defeat and destruction is the creation and/or transmission of their history and literature, including their myths. Schivelbusch, for instance, mentions “the ancient idea, common to all the world’s great cultures, that war, death, and rebirth are cyclically linked” (Schivelbusch 2004, 26). In the author’s view, such a widespread myth was aimed at conveying the positive message that individual and community tragedies do not result in the absolute eradication of the victims. The purpose of my paper is to enquire into ancient Israel’s strategies for coping with the experience of defeat by investigating the Hebrew Psalter. For the sake of feasibility, the following will focus on Psalms 1 to 41, the first book of the Psalter. Over the last decades, a number of scholars have pointed out that the book of Psalms is not a randomly-compiled collection of prayers, but rather an organised work. Much research has been devoted to the complex editorial process that was responsible for the final shape of the Psalter, as well as to the Psalter’s overall theology. ‘From the psalms to the Psalter’ seems to be the leitmotif of such a productive strand of research (see, for instance, DeClaissé-Walford 2014; Zenger 2010; Bellinger, Burnett, and Tucker 2007; Flint and Miller 2005; Whybray 1996; Millard 1994; McCann 1993; Wilson 1985).2 Although individual psalms were composed by different authors, in different historical periods, and in different sociological contexts, they were collected together after the trauma of the Babylonian Exile and during the tormented post-exile period (see Gillingham 2014). The Psalter, therefore, might be considered one of the products of a ‘vanquished Israel’, and one of ancient Israel’s many attempts to come to terms with the experience of defeat. Regarding the first book of the Psalter, some proposals have been advanced that concern both the final literary organization of Psalms 1 to 41 and the main theological themes that hold these psalms together (e.g. Barbiero 1999, 2009; Bellinger 2007; Hossfeld and Zenger 1993; Tucker 1995; Auffret 1982). Frank L. Hossfeld and Erich Zenger argued that Psalms 1 to 41 mainly reflect the painful existence 2 For a critical perspective on this scholarly trend, see Willgren 2016.

PICTURING DEFEAT TO BUILD RESILIENCE

45

of the poor and righteous, and W. Dennis Tucker suggested that this collection was aimed at instructing and encouraging ancient Israel’s disoriented community. Gianni Barbiero emphasized the crucial role that royal ideology plays in the first book of the Psalter, whereas William H. Bellinger mainly understood Psalms 1 to 41 as a wisdom piece. Nancy L. DeClaissé-Walford (2014) insisted on the prominent figure of King David, to which 39 of the 41 psalms are attributed. In her view, Psalms 1 to 41 tell the story of David’s reign and convey a dual message: “torah piety (Psalm 1) and God as king (Psalm 2)” (DeClaissé-Walford, Jacobson, and Tanner 2014, 30). The present paper intends to contribute to the ongoing research on the Psalter in general and on Psalms 1 to 41 in particular by investigating (1) how this collection represents defeat both literary and theologically, and (2) what function such a literary/theological representation of defeat might have had for ancient Israel’s postexilic community. I will first show that the theme of defeat is ubiquitous in the first book of the Psalter. I will argue that, upon closer inspection, the defeated in Psalms 1 to 41 are always the enemies, whereas the psalmists themselves, however vulnerable, never appear to be vanquished once and for all thanks to their faith in YHWH’s deliverance (1. The Theme of Defeat). I will then show that the enemies’ defeat, the psalmists’ vulnerability, and YHWH’s intervention are mainly pictured through references to the body (2. Harmed and Harmful Bodies). The use of the language of the body is notoriously widespread in the Psalter (see, e.g., Wagner 2008; Gillmayr-Bucher 2004) and, more generally, in the Hebrew Bible (see, e.g., Janowski 2018; Wolff 2010; Staubli and Schroer 1998). I will then suggest that the abundant use of the language of the body in Psalms 1 to 41 can be read as a poetic strategy aimed at building individual and community resilience (3. Building Resilience).

1. T HE T HEME OF DEFEAT The theme of defeat is widespread in the first book of the Psalter and always concerns the psalmists’ enemies, whereas the psalmists themselves ultimately appear to be invincible. Psalm 1 introduces the topic of the ‘defeated enemies’ in verses 4 to 6: while a prosperous future is guaranteed to those who are faithful to the Torah, the wicked will perish “like chaff that the wind

46

DANILO VERDE

drives away” (verse 4). In Psalm 2, the rebellious to both YHWH and his anointed only have one way to save their lives, namely by serving YHWH with fear (verse 11). Otherwise, the anointed “will break them with a rod of iron, and dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel” (verse 9). Psalms 1 and 2 are the foundation for the entire theological architecture of the first book of the Psalter (Zenger 1998, 3; 1993);3 the righteous will eventually experience salvation, whereas the defeat of evildoers is an absolute certainty. As for YHWH, he is the guarantor of this double destiny insofar as he is the only one who rules over the world with justice. The question arises as to how to combine such an optimistic portrayal with the opposite experience, that of the victorious enemies and the defeated righteous. Psalm 3 begins to answer this question. The final defeat of the enemies does not exclude the current experience of persecution and suffering. The present is not the time for the enemies’ destruction; it is rather the time for the psalmists’ prayer and faith in YHWH: “I lie down and sleep; I wake again, for YHWH sustains me” (verse 5). A similar expression also concludes Psalm 4. That the defeat of the enemies is not part of the psalmists’ present, but is something for which the psalmists pray, also emerges in Psalm 5. The psalmist here relies on the strong belief that since God does not delight in wickedness and abhors the bloodthirsty and deceitful, he will eventually defeat the evildoers (verses 4–6) and protect the righteous with his shield (verse 12). What the psalmist does experience in his present time is sorrow and faith (verses 11–13). Psalm 6 gives voice to both. A cascade of imperatives and questions to God (verses 2–6), as well as the description of the psalmist’s suffering body (verses 2; 6–7), make this psalm extremely dramatic. The psalmist, however, holds on to his faith: YHWH has heard his prayer and the enemies will one day be vanquished (verse 10: “my enemies shall be ashamed and struck with terror; they shall turn back, and in a moment be put to shame”). Likewise, in Psalm 7 the psalmist seems to be certain of God’s help (verse 11) as well as of the destiny of the 3 Willgren (2018) has recently challenged the well-established consensus that Psalms 1 to 2 constitute a kind of ‘preface’ to the Psalter.

PICTURING DEFEAT TO BUILD RESILIENCE

47

enemies (verses 16–17). Psalm 8 makes it clear that the previously expressed belief in God as the “vanquisher” of the enemies is based on faith in God as creator and king (verse 3). Psalms 9 and 10, which taken together form one alphabetic acrostic poem, oscillate between affirming God’s power and presence (Psalm 9:5: “you rebuke the nations, you destroy the wicked”) and complaining about both the enemy and God’s apparent distance (Psalm 10:1: “Why, YHWH, do you stand at a distance? Why do you hide at times of trouble?”). Standing between the enemies’ aggression and God’s apparent distance, the psalmist seems to experience a profound feeling of precariousness, insecurity, and powerlessness. What can the righteous do (Psalm 11:3)? Psalm 11 suggests that the only thing to do is to trust YHWH, who watches over the world, scrutinizes the upright and the wicked, and will eventually bring justice by saving victims and defeating oppressors (verse 6: “He will rain down red-hot coals, fire and sulphur on the wicked, a scorching wind will be their lot”). Psalm after psalm, the motif of the enemies’ defeat is reiterated, together with the motif of the victim being saved by YHWH. Psalm after psalm, words of faith (e.g. Psalm 12:8–9), mixed with words of fear (e.g. Psalm 13:4–5), and even with the fool’s words of disbelief (Psalm 14:1), accumulate and interweave. Two psalms follow in which there is no explicit mention of the defeat of the enemies. Psalm 15 seems to encourage the reader not to ‘change team’, but rather to keep being part of those who are admitted into the presence of God, namely those who walk with integrity by living blamelessly, acting righteously, treating their neighbours with respect, and despising all evil. The reason for these ethical requirements is explicitly provided: “no one who so acts can ever be shaken” (Psalm 15:5). As for Psalm 16, on the one hand it is connected with the previous psalm through the psalmist’s refusal to take part to acts (maybe rituals) of violence (verse 4), but on the other it switches the focus to trusting in God (verse 1: “Keep me, o God, for I take refuge in you”). The psalmists’ prayer wishing for the punishment of the enemy returns in Psalm 17, in which the wicked are described as ferocious lions and YHWH is asked to bring them down with his sword (verses 12–13). The lines of Psalm 17:2–5 are particularly interesting, because they link the theme of defeat with the theme of ethics (in Psalms 15–16). Psalm 17 suggests that being innocent is a crucial

48

DANILO VERDE

element in being able to count on YHWH’s help, for he is “able to discern guilt and innocence, has the active power to be able to set it right, and has the character to do so,” as Rolf A. Jacobson put it (in DeClaissé-Walford, Jacobson, and Tanner 2014, 186). According to Psalm 18, the experience of being saved and of seeing the destruction of the enemies is the proof of God’s reign. The defeat of the enemy is not something that the psalmist foresees and hopes for. Rather, it is a past experience that confirms the psalmist’s faith in YHWH as the god who delights in/delivers the righteous and despises/defeats the wicked (verses 25–26: “With the faithful, you deal faithfully, with the blameless, you act blamelessly, with the pure, you act purely, but with the crooked, you act shrewdly. Surely, you deliver a needy people, but haughty eyes you bring down”). Thanks to YHWH, the psalmist himself has defeated his foes according to verses 37 to 45. No picture of defeat occurs in Psalm 19, which focuses on the creation (verses 1–7), the Torah (verses 8–11), and the servant (verses 12–15). In verse 15, however, the psalmist addresses YHWH as a rock and redeemer, namely as the only one who can assure refuge, rescue, and justice. In so doing, although no vanquished enemies are explicitly mentioned, the obscure presence of foes seems to appear in the background. The enemies are not explicitly mentioned in Psalm 20 either, although this psalm is about the military defeat of the king’s enemies and the king’s trust in YHWH. Military victory is also the main topic of Psalm 21, in which YHWH himself is portrayed as a warrior aiming at the enemies’ faces with his bows and making them show their backs (verse 13). In the anguished prayer of Psalm 22, the theme of the enemies’ defeat is not central, yet it is still present when YHWH shows his kingship over the earth (verses 28–30). Likewise, in the peaceful atmosphere of Psalm 23, we once again encounter the portrayal of the defeat of the enemies: YHWH is here a hospitable host, who nourishes and honours the psalmist through a lavish banquet in the face of the enemies. Psalms 24 to 30 do not contain any explicit description of the vanquished, focusing instead on the other side of the coin: the victorious YHWH and psalmists. Images of defeat return in Psalm 31, in which the enemies are described as going down to Sheol in silence (verse 18). “Countless troubles are in store for the wicked,” says Psalm 32:10, and the plans

PICTURING DEFEAT TO BUILD RESILIENCE

49

of nations are thwarted and frustrated according to Psalm 33:10. The vanquished enemies are described as needy and hungry lions in Psalm 34:11, and the memory of the evildoers is said to be cut off in Psalm 34:17. Psalm 35 is a complex prayer for help, in which the psalmist prays to YHWH to fight for him and annihilate their foes. In Psalm 36 the enemies are pictured as downtrodden (verse 13), and in Psalm 37 as withered and eradicated grass (verse 2), annihilated (verses 9–10), pierced by their own swords (verse 15), shattered (verse 17), vanished (verse 20), fallen as a tree (verse 36), and destroyed (verse 38). Psalms 38 to 41, on the contrary, picture the psalmist as being about to succumb in front of his enemies, although the numerous pleas for help make it clear that it is not yet over and there is still hope. As related in Psalm 41:11, the future defeat of the enemies will be the proof that YHWH delights in the psalmists. In summary, at the end of the reading process of Psalms 1 to 41, the main idea that emerges seems to be that YHWH’s kingship over the world has two interrelated sides: the salvation of the righteous and the defeat of the wicked. However disturbing this might sound to the modern reader, in the first book of the Psalter there is no deliverance of the innocent without destruction of the guilty, and the defeat of the enemies appears to be the litmus test of YHWH’s kingship, of his power, loyalty, and justice. Hence, on several occasions Psalms 1 to 41 insist on the importance of holding on to the ways of the Torah and to never share the ways of the wicked, in order not to share in their destined defeat.

2. HARMED AND H ARMFUL BODIES The certainty of the enemies’ destruction as the litmus test of YHWH’s kingship is installed in Psalms 1 to 41 through many powerful images, among which bodily images stand out as being particularly numerous, vivid, and rhetorically effective. Three clusters of bodily images are employed: (1) the harmed but not-defeated body of the psalmists; (2) the harmful and defeated body of the enemies; and (3) the harmful and rescuing body of YHWH. 2.1. The Harmed but Not-defeated Body of the Psalmists

Throughout the first book of the Psalter, the psalmists appear to be in a condition of profound vulnerability, although they are never

50

DANILO VERDE

pictured as having definitively been defeated. Such a portrayal of the psalmists as ‘vulnerable but never defeated’ is mainly created by bodily images. On the one hand, the psalmists constantly draw the reader’s eyes to their shaking, disjointed, and weary bones (e.g. Psalms 6:3; 22:15; 31:11; 38:4; 32:3), as well as their broken, distressed, and throbbing hearts that turn to wax and melt inside (e.g. Psalms 22:15; 34:19; 38:9, 11; 39:4; 40:13). Their flesh is devastated (e.g. Psalms 27:2; 38:4, 8), and their tear-filled eyes waste away (e.g. Psalms 6:7–8; 13:4; 31:10; 38:11; 39:13). Bodily images are particularly intense and dramatic in Psalms 22:15–18; 31:10–13; 32:3–4; and 38:4–14. On the other hand, the psalmists’ eyes permanently look for YHWH (e.g. Psalm 13:4), who will free their feet from snares (e.g. Psalm 25:15). The psalmists’ hearts keep longing for salvation and justice (e.g. Psalms 13:6; 36:11; 25:17), and are wide open in front of God (e.g. Psalms 17:3; 26:2). The psalmists’ hands are raised as though they could reach YHWH (e.g. Psalm 28:2), and both their bones and tongues plead to God for help (e.g. Psalms 35:10; 39:4). The overall picture that gradually takes shape in Psalms 1 to 41 is that while the psalmists’ bodies are about to dissolve, they are still able to tend towards another body: that of YHWH. Images of the psalmists’ ravaged bodies cumulate and intertwine with images of YHWH’s body, whose ears (e.g. Psalms 5:2; 17:1; 39:13), hands (e.g. Psalms 10:12; 17:14; 21:9), face (e.g. Psalms 4:7; 13:2; 17:2; 18:7; 24:6; 27:8–9; 31:17), and so on are constantly invoked. Consequently, the reader of Psalms 1 to 41 is never able to form an image of the psalmists’ defeat. Additionally, a number of expressions of trust combine to affirm the impression that the psalmists’ harmed bodies might appear to be on the verge of collapse, but were never definitively annihilated, as in Psalms 3:6; 10:7; 13:6; 16:5, 9, 11; 31:15, 21; 34:16; 36:8; 40:2. 2.2. The Harmful but Defeated Body of the Enemies

Contrary to this, the enemies’ harmful bodies undergo the final downfall. The use of bodily images to represent both the enemies and their defeat is ubiquitous in the first book of the Psalter. It is in Psalm 5:10 that the harmful bodies of the enemies explicitly appear in front of the reader’s eyes: “There is no truth in their mouths; their hearts are destruction; their throats are open graves; they flatter with their tongues.” In Psalm 7:3, the enemy’s body even loses its humani-

PICTURING DEFEAT TO BUILD RESILIENCE

51

ty and is transformed by the victim’s imagination into the body of a ferocious lion ready to savage and carry the psalmist off. According to Psalm 10:7, 9, the enemies’ mouths and tongues are filled with cursing, deceit, oppression, mischief, and iniquity, while their eyes stealthily watch for the helpless. Here again, the enemies’ bodies are perceived and pictured by the psalmist as completely dehumanized and animal-like: they lurk in secret like a lion in its covert, seize victims and drag them off in their nets, and crouch down low with their claws (verses 9–10). Instead of merely speaking of the arrogant, wicked, evildoers in generic terms, the psalmists usually prefer to portray their enemies evil bodies, as in Psalms 12:5; 17:10–12; 22:5, 14, 21, 22; 26:10; 28:3–4; 31:19; 35:17, 19; 36:2–3, 12; 37:12; 41:7. These evil bodies, however, are destined to be defeated, as in Psalm 3:8 (“You strike all my enemies on the cheek; you break the teeth of the wicked”). Psalm 7 is worth mentioning due to its intriguing interplay between different bodily images. After calling for the reader’s attention (‫הנה‬, “look!”), it focuses on the body of the wicked, transformed by poetic imagination into the body of a pregnant woman who has conceived spite and gives birth to treachery (verse 15). What normally would be a reassuring image – that of a mother’s body – is completely deformed and twisted into the image of an evil creature making a pit and digging it out (verse 16). This monster, however, falls into a hole of his own making and is defeated by his own wickedness (verse 16). The reader is swiftly led from visualizing the enemy’s harmful pregnant body to visualizing his harmed defeated body: “His spite recoils on his own head, his brutality falls back on his own skull” (verse 17). When the psalmists pray for and imagine the final defeat of their enemies, they often create images of broken bodies, as in Psalms 10:15 (“Break the arm of the wicked”), 12:4 (“May YHWH cut away every smooth lip, every boastful tongue”), and 37:15, 17 (“their sword will pierce their own heart,” “the arms of the wicked will be broken”). A frequently-employed bodily image of defeat is that of the scared, trembling, and ashamed bodies of the enemies as in Psalm 21:13, which pictures YHWH aiming at their faces with his bows and at the enemies’ backs while they run away (“You will make them show their back, when you aim your bows at their faces”). Bodily images of vanquished enemies are often created even without using terms for body parts, but through verbal expressions such as trembling, shak-

52

DANILO VERDE

ing, being ashamed/blushing (e.g. Psalms 2:5; 6:11; 31:18; 35:4; 40:15), stumbling (e.g. Psalms 9:4; 27:2), falling down (e.g. Psalms 5:11; 7:16; 18:39; 20:9; 27:2; 35:8; 36:13), and not being able to stand up (e.g. Psalms 1:5; 36:13). Psalm 18:39–41 is particularly interesting since it is the only one in the first book of the Psalter in which the enemies’ bodies are portrayed as defeated in a direct encounter with the psalmist (“I struck them down, so that they were not able to rise; they fell under my feet. For you girded me with strength for the battle; you made my assailants sink under me. You made my enemies turn their backs to me, and those who hated me I destroyed”). Two clusters of bodily images, therefore, vividly take shape and are turned upside down in Psalms 1 to 41. The first is the image of the psalmists’ harmed bodies that are about to collapse but never experience definitive defeat and destruction. The second is the image of the enemies’ harmful bodies that are about to triumph but are defeated and utterly devastated. Such overturning is made possible by a third body: the harmful and rescuing body of YHWH. 2.3. The Harmful and Rescuing Body of YHWH

On several occasions, YHWH’s intervention is represented through bodily images picturing the divine as, on the one hand, subjugating the oppressors and, on the other, rescuing the oppressed. His eyes watch over the world, scrutinising the children of Adam (Psalm 10:4), and look down from heaven to see if there is anybody who is wise and seeks God (Psalm 14:2; see also Psalm 33:13). Boasters cannot stand their ground under his gaze, since God hates evildoers (e.g. Psalm 5:6). On the contrary, his eyes are on those who fear him and rely on his faithful love (Psalm 33:18; see also Psalm 34:16). YHWH’s face is mentioned in connection with either the judgment and punishment of the enemies (Psalms 9:20; 21:10; 34:17), or the protection and salvation of the victims (Psalms 17:15; 21:7; 31:21). Likewise, YHWH’s hand either shields the victim (Psalms 10:14; 16:5; 31:15) or is raised against the oppressor (Psalms 10:12; 21:9). Psalm 36:8 pictures YHWH’s body as winged (“the children of Adam take refuge in the shadow of your wings”), probably referring both to the wings of the cherubim in the temple and to the image of a mother bird protecting her brood (see also Deuteronomy 32:11; Psalm 91:4). Psalm 40:2 portrays YHWH’s body as bending over the psalmist to listen to him,

PICTURING DEFEAT TO BUILD RESILIENCE

53

and the theophany in Psalm 18 primarily is that of YHWH’s rescuing and powerful body.4 In sum, despite the fact that the first book of the Psalter contains a wide variety of images, the experience of the enemies’ defeat and the rescue of the psalmists/victims are mainly portrayed by means of the language of the body. The language of the body is also used to picture YHWH as simultaneously both the ‘vanquisher’ (of the oppressor) and the ‘savior’ (of the oppressed). The question arises as to the function of such a construction of defeat, and to the widespread use of bodily images.

3. BUILDING RESILIENCE This question can be answered in light of the Psalter’s general attempt to pass down to ancient Israel’s post-exilic community a theological equipment for survival. It is well-known that both the catastrophe of the exile and the troubled post-exile period brought to ancient Israel a host of political and socioeconomic problems, together with perturbing theological questions, to which answers were in part provided through its religious literature (see, for instance, Ben Zvi and Levin 2010; Knoppers, Grabbe, and Fulton 2009; Albertz 2003). Although several psalms are certainly much older, the activity of collecting and editing individual (and groups of) psalms into a single book very likely started during the Persian period, in order to provide the post-exilic community with “hermeneutical rationales” for survival (DeClaisséWalford, Jacobson, and Tanner. 2014, 38). Leaving aside the highlydebated question of the identification of wisdom psalms (see Crenshaw 2001, 87–95) – those that explicitly have a pedagogical character – entire psalms (e.g. Psalms 1, 8, 15, etc.) and verses dispersed through the first book of the Psalter (Psalms 2:12; 4:4; 27:14; 31:24–25; 37:34) suggest that the book of Psalms’ editors had didactic and paraenetic goals. The representation of the enemies’ defeat is too widespread in Psalms 38 and 39 are exceptional within the first book of the Psalter, insofar as bodily images of the divine are here employed to picture neither the punishment of the enemies nor the deliverance of the psalmist. They rather express the psalmist’s experience of being oppressed by God. 4

54

DANILO VERDE

Psalms 1 to 41 to not be part of these goals. More precisely, I suggest that the literary and theological construction of the enemies’ defeat in Psalms 1 to 41 was aimed at building individual and community resilience. Resilience can be defined as “an outcome of successful adaptation to adversity” (Zautra, Hall, and Murray 2010, 4). It is the individual or social organism’s capacity to persist in a functioning state while facing distress and threats of various kinds, to adapt to ongoing situations, and to enhance its well-being in the face of present and future risks (Keck and Sakdapolrak 2013). Over the last few decades, several studies in the field of psychology have argued that religious belief plays a crucial role in response to life stressors and traumatic events (Pargament and Cummings 2010; Pargament 1997; Exline and Rose 2005). According to Kenneth I. Pargament and Jeremy Cummings (2010), religiousness constitutes a resilience factor, insofar as it helps many people withstand the most threatening human experiences by fostering the search for meaning, providing emotional comfort, creating social interconnectedness, and establishing and reinforcing a relationship with the sacred. In this view, prayer is one of the many ways through which religious people build their resilience. Going back to the prayers of Psalms 1 to 41, it is this collection’s ‘global meaning’ – the meta-narrative (made of beliefs, assumptions, and expectancies about life and the world) that orients the interpretations of events (Park and Folkman 1997) – that suggests that the representation of the enemies’ defeat is oriented toward building the readers’ resilience. The global meaning or metanarrative taking shape in Psalms 1 to 41 is that despite the fact that human life undergoes a plethora of threats, mostly caused by external attacks, the victims will never experience complete, total defeat. The favour and intervention of the divine is the guarantee that oppressors will be severely defeated and left unable to do harm. As shown above, readers are constantly encouraged to think and speak of their individual and community sorrow and pain as being destined to end, and their individual and community life as destined to continue. The first book of the Psalter conveys this reassuring world-view in a very persistent way. What goal could result from such an encouraging, even utopian, metanarrative if not the readers’ strength? Moreover, almost every single psalm is emotionally charged on the one hand with fear, anger, re-

PICTURING DEFEAT TO BUILD RESILIENCE

55

sentment, shame, and so forth, and on the other with trust, faith, and hope. The production of such a great many emotions cannot be incidental. More likely, it was a rhetorical way of involving readers in the whirlwind of the psalmists’ emotions, thanks to which they could process their most disruptive feelings and, simultaneously, fortify their trust in the powerful and caring presence of the divine. On the consistent use of the language of the body, I suggest that it was a strategy of representation, mainly employed to trigger social empathy, to promote the full expression of distress, to reinforce faith in the reality of God’s helping presence, and thereby to build resilience. Social empathy is the ability to understand the members of one’s own group by perceiving or experiencing their life situations. It also provides the members of a community with insights into ongoing conditions of injustice and oppression created both by the members of one’s community and by outsiders (Segal 2011; Singer and Lamm 2009; Davis 1994). The language of the body is, by its very nature, particularly vivid and powerful. Expressions such as “all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted within my breast” (Psalm 22:14) and “my mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to my jaws” (Psalm 22:15), powerfully represent the extent and depth of suffering experienced within the community. By means of such a dramatic way of communicating, the memory of both individual and community tragedies could be kept alive, and the awareness of both individual and social vulnerability could be reinforced. The psalmists’ language of the body made the representation of victims dramatic, realistic, and tangible. Thanks to the psalmists’ clear reconstruction of the harmed body, the community could easily be involved in the drama, which helped them to identify and empathize with the psalmists. The portrayal of the harmful body of the oppressors would have reinforced such a process of identification, likewise promoting social empathy. Within the context of the numerous social tensions that characterized ancient Israel’s postexilic community, it is plausible to think that the psalms’ language of the body functioned as more than a colourful description. It likely functioned as a way of building the ‘social body’; a way of gathering the community around common suffering, highlighting awareness of ongoing conditions of oppression, and reinforcing social attachments and cohesion (see Brettler 2017). It was a way of building social

56

DANILO VERDE

resilience. Due to their emotional power, the psalms’ language of the body could help each member of the community to not only feel in their own flesh the past and present dramas of other members, but also to fully express their own ongoing distress and their own need for help. Expressions such as “O YHWH, heal me, for my bones are shaking with terror” (Psalm 6:3) and “Be gracious to me, O YHWH, for I am in distress; my eye wastes away from grief, my soul and body also” (Psalm 31:9), could easily help those who used the psalms either publicly and privately to express a wide range of emotions in a tangible and concrete way, from shock to disbelief, from guilt to anger, from sadness to fear. In doing so, the psalms’ language of the body could foster the process of individual recovery from grief, which is pivotal to building resilient individuals and societies. Additionally, thanks to the language of the body, the liberating presence and intervention of the divine is represented as being every bit as real as the experience of the oppressors. Expressions such as “His eyes behold, his eyelids examine humankind” (Psalm 11:4), “I shall behold your face” (Psalm 17:15), and “Smoke went up from his nostrils, and devouring fire from his mouth (…) He bowed the heavens, and came down; thick darkness was under his feet” (Psalm 18:9–10), emphasize the realism of the powerful presence of the divine within his people. Likewise, expressions such as “you strike all my enemies on the cheek; you break the teeth of the wicked” (Psalm 3:8) and “With God we shall do valiantly; it is he who will trample foes” (Psalm 60:14) seem to aim at nourishing and reinforcing Israel’s faith in God as the one who is not indifferent to the oppressed. In other words, the language of the body contributed to make the psalms more persuasive at the core of ancient Israel’s great metanarrative: YHWH is the god that sets his people free. To conclude, the literary and theological representation of defeat in the first book of the Psalter can be considered a ‘meaningmaking discourse’ mainly channelled by the language of the body and intended to convey words, thoughts, and emotions that would strengthen its readers, both in the present and in the future. It can be said that Psalms 1 to 41 illustrate defeat, as well as vulnerability and deliverance, mainly through bodily images to cement the social body of ancient Israel’s post-exilic community.

PICTURING DEFEAT TO BUILD RESILIENCE

57

BIBLIOGRAPHY Albertz, Rainer 2003. Israel in Exile: The History and Literature of the Sixth Century BCE. Studies in Biblical Literature 3. Atlanta, GA: SBL. Auffret, Pierre 1982. La Sagesse à bati sa maison: Études de structures littéraires dans l’Ancien Testament et spécialement dans les Psaumes. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 49. Fribourg: Ed. universitaires. Barbiero, Gianni 1999. Das erste Psalmenbuch als Einheit: Eine synchrone Analyse von Psalm 1–41. Österreichische Biblische Studien 16. Frankfurt am Main: Lang. Barbiero, Gianni 2009. Il regno di JHWH e del suo Messia: Salmi scelti dal primo libro del Salterio. Studia Biblica 7. Roma: Città Nuova. Bellinger, William H. 2007. “Reading from the Beginning (Again): The Shape of Book I of the Psalter.” In Diachronic and Synchronic: Reading the Psalms in Real Time. Proceedings of the Baylor Symposium on the Book of Psalms. Library of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies 488, edited by William H. Bellinger, Joel S. Burnett, and W. Dennis Tucker, 114–126. New York: Clark. Bellinger, William H., Joel S. Burnett, and W. Dennis Tucker, eds. 2007. Diachronic and Synchronic: Reading the Psalms in Realtime. Proceedings of the Baylor Symposium on the Book of Psalms. Library of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies 488. New York: Clark. Ben Zvi, Ehud, and Christoph Levin, eds. 2010. The Concept of Exile in Ancient Israel and its Historical Contexts. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 404. Berlin: de Gruyter. Crenshaw, James L. 2001. The Psalms: An Introduction. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans. Davis, Mark H. 1994. Empathy: A Social Psychological Approach. Madison, WI: Brown and Benchmark. DeClaissé-Walford, Nancy L., ed. 2014. The Shape and Shaping of the Hebrew Psalter: The Current State of Scholarship. Ancient Israel and its Literature 20. Atlanta, GE: SBL Press.

58

DANILO VERDE

DeClaissé-Walford, Nancy L., Rolf A. Jacobson, and Beth LaNeel Tanner 2014. The Book of Psalms. New International Commentary on the Old Testament. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans. Exline, Julie J., and Eric D. Rose 2005. “Religious and Spiritual Struggles.” In Handbook of the Psychology of Religion and Spirituality, edited by Raymond F. Paloutzian and Crystal L. Park, 315–330. New York: Guilford Press. Flint, Peter W., and Patrick D. Miller, eds. 2005. The Book of Psalms: Composition and Reception. Formation and Interpretation of Old Testament Literature 4. Leiden: Brill. Gillingham, Susan E. 2014. “The Levites and the Editorial Composition of the Psalms.” In The Oxford Handbook of the Psalms, edited by William P. Brown, 201–213. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Gillmayr-Bucher, Susanne 2004. “Body Images in the Psalms.” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 28: 301–326. Hossfeld, Frank L., and Erich Zenger 1993. Die Psalmen. 1: Psalm 1– 50. Neue Echter Bibel. Altes Testament 29. Würzburg: Echter. Janowski, Bernd 2018. Das hörende Herz. Beiträge zur Theologie und Anthropologie des Alten Testaments. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Knoppers, Gary N., Lester L. Grabbe, and Deirdre N. Fulton, eds. 2009. Exile and Restoration Revisited: Essays on the Babylonian and Persian Periods in Memory of Peter R. Ackroyd. Library of Second Temple Studies 73. London: Clark. McCann, J. Clinton, ed. 1993. The Shape and Shaping of the Psalter. Journal for the Study of the Old Testament, Supplement 159. Sheffield: JSOT. Millard, Matthias 1994. Die Komposition des Psalters: Ein formgeschichtlicher Ansatz. Forschungen zum Alten Testament 9. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Pargament, Kenneth I. 1997. The Psychology of Religion and Coping. New York: Guilford Press. Pargament, Kenneth I., and Jeremy Cummings. 2010. “Anchored by Faith: Religion as a Resilience Factor.” In Handbook of Adult Resilience, edited by John W. Reich, Alex J. Zautra, and John S. Hall, 193–210. New York: Guilford Press.

PICTURING DEFEAT TO BUILD RESILIENCE

59

Park, Crystal, and Susan Folkman 1997. “Meaning in the Context of Stress and Coping.” Review of General Psychology 1: 115–144. Schivelbusch, Wolfgang 2004. The Culture of Defeat: On National Trauma, Mourning, and Recovery. New York: Picador. Schroer, Silvia, and Thomas Staubli 1998. Die Körpersymbolik der Bibel. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft. Segal, Elizabeth A. 2011. “Social Empathy: A Model Built on Empathy, Contextual Understanding, and Social Responsibility That Promotes Social Justice.” Journal of Social Service Research 37: 266–277. Singer, Tania and Claus Lamm 2009. “The Social Neuroscience of Empathy.” Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences 1156: 81–96. Tucker, W. Dennis 1995. “Beyond the Lament: Instruction and Theology in Book I of the Psalter.” Proceedings. Eastern Great Lakes and Midwest Biblical Society 15: 121–132. Wagner, Andreas 2008. “Körperbegriffe als Stellvertreterausdrücke der Person in den Psalmen”. In Beten und Bekennen: Über Psalmen, edited by Andreas Wagner, 289–317. Neukirchen: Neukirchener Verlag. Whybray, Norman 1996. Reading the Psalms as a Book. Journal for the Study of the Old Testament, Supplement 222. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press. Willgren, David 2016. The Formation of the “Book” of Psalms: Reconsidering the Transmission and Canonization of Psalmody in Light of Material Culture and the Poetics of Anthologies. Forschungen zum Alten Testament 2. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Willgren, David 2018. “Why Psalms 1–2 Are Not to Be Considered a Preface to the ‘Book’ of Psalms.” Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 130: 384–397. Wilson, Gerald Henry 1985. The Editing of the Hebrew Psalter. Society of Biblical Literature, Dissertation Series 76. Chico, CA: Scholars Press. Wolff, H. Walter 2010. Anthropologie des Alten Testaments. Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus. Zautra, Alex J., John S. Hall, and Kate E. Murray 2010. “Resilience: A New Definition of Health for People and Communities.” In

60

DANILO VERDE

Handbook of Adult Resilience, edited by John W. Reich, Alex J. Zautra, and John S. Hall, 3–29. New York: Guilford Press. Zenger, Erich 1993. “Der Psalter als Wegweiser und Wegbegleiter: Ps 1– 2 als Proömium des Psalmenbuchs.” In Sie wandern von Kraft zu Kraft: Aufbrüche – Wege – Begegnungen: Festgabe für Bischof Reinhard Lettmann, edited by Arnold Angenendt and Herbert Vorgrimler, 29–47. Kevelaer: Butzon & Bercker. Zenger, Erich, ed. 1998. Der Psalter in Judentum und Christentum. Herders biblische Studien 18. Freiburg: Herder. Zenger, Erich, ed. 2010. The Composition of the Book of Psalms. Bibliotheca Ephemeridum theologicarum Lovaniensium 238. Leuven: Peeters.

DOOMED PROPHETS: THE FUNCTION OF CULT OFFICIALS IN TIMES OF DESTRUCTION AS A LITERARY TOPIC IN ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN LAMENT LITERATURE AS WELL AS IN THE BOOK OF JEREMIAH SARAH KÖHLER ABSTRACT This paper is about the role of cult officials in times of destruction, which is part of the literary theme of coming to terms with the experience of being defeated. By means of a tradition-historical survey, it pays attention to the supposed origin of the issue of ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophecy, which is particularly pertinent to the Hebrew Bible Book of Jeremiah, in which the issue is reflected in three chapters as well as in numerous single verses. It is postulated here that the latter issue is neither based on a historical debate of prophets against prophets nor between different historical prophetic groups. Rather, it will be suggested that the origin of this Jeremianic topic is primarily literary, even if it is based on the historical experience of destruction. The survey begins with a subject known from ancient Mesopotamia: a corpus of literary motifs and fixed expressions describing the destruction of cities in a literary way. This ‘language of destruction’ is used in cultic or liturgical laments written in Emesal by the kalû, Mesopotamian lamentation priests, and it is also to be found in more literary texts, like the so-called city or literary laments. The study thus presents an analysis of the topic as a unique literary theme from Mesopota61

62

SARAH KÖHLER mia that found its way into ancient Israelite literature, in the Book of Jeremiah and beyond.

1. DOOMED PRIESTS IN THE BALAĜ-LAMENTS OF THE KALÛ Ancient Mesopotamian texts include a corpus of literary motifs and fixed expressions that describe the destructions of cities, including the so-called Balaĝs, which constitute a starting point for a traditionhistorical survey of ancient Near Eastern lament literature.1 This corpus is significant: over 100 texts, in over 1500 copies, are known from various cities throughout Mesopotamia, dating from approximately 2000 BCE to the 1st century BCE (Cohen 1988, 23–24). These laments were written to mourn earlier destructions and, in particular, to prevent future ones. In order to do this, Balaĝs contain long descriptions of the destruction and of the situation that followed. The name ‘Balaĝ’ refers to the musical instrument that accompanied these compositions when they were performed, to calm the heart of the deity to whom the song was addressed (Shehata 2009, 247–248). This desire to calm the heart was based on the ancient Near Eastern idea that an angry, mourning, and homeless god presented a danger to an orderly world and would consequently bring misery upon humankind (Shehata 2009, 248). Balaĝs belonged among the art of the kalû, the kalûtu, and at least one of these Balaĝs, known by the incipit uru2 am3-me ir-ra-bi, was handed down for nearly 2000 years (Cohen 1988, 28–31). Balaĝs were written in Emesal, a Sumerian ‘dialect’ (Shehata 2009, 249; Gabbay 2015, 5; Löhnert 2009, 41), and the name probably indicates that they would have been performed in a high vocal register (Shehata 2009, 250).2

Both the city or literary laments and cultic or liturgical ones serve as reminders of disasters, and as such are part of a process of commemoration and of coming to terms with destruction experiences. As Uri Gabbay points out, neither style of lament categorically refers to specific historical experiences of disaster, even if the devastation described in the laments “had antecedents in historical instances of war, famine, [and] destruction,” which were part of life in many periods (Gabbay’s article in this volume, p. 131). 2 Because of the way that ‘eme-sal’ is rendered in cuneiform, the sign SAL can be read logographically as MUNUS, and mean ‘woman’. As such, 1

DOOMED PROPHETS

63

The Balaĝs comprise arbitrary units and set pieces (Versatzstücke), which are independent from each other in terms of their content. They are divided into ki-ru-gu2 (Kirugu) units, which are in some cases followed by a ĝeš-ge4-ĝal2 (Ĝešgeĝal) section.3 The Old Babylonian manuscripts consist of up to 65 Kirugus and contain up to 570 lines (Löhnert 2009, 41).4 In the 1st millennium BCE, these Balaĝ compositions were arranged into a canon, along with a large part of the Old Babylonian prayers (Shehata 2009, 248), so that the catalogue IVR2 53+ lists the incipits of 57 different Balaĝ prayers (Cohen 1988, 19). Liturgical texts in Emesal, including Balaĝ compositions, contain a limited number of recurring images, including the destruction of the cattle-pens and sheep-folds (which metaphorically stand for cities), of buildings and temples, and the description of a city as an abandoned, ruined mound. Female deities are described as lamenting, and are sometimes given a part of speech in which they regret the destruction of their temples and cities, and the homelessness that resulted from the calamity.5 Male deities either appear as heroes or are praised for their destructive power. For example, the god Enlil is often described as a wind that brought destruction (Shehata 2009, 248). Many of these images are also found in city laments, which will be discussed below. The Balaĝ composition dutu-gin7 e3-ta (“Come out like the sun”) will serve as a case study. This composition is well attested from the Old Babylonian Period to the 1st millennium BCE (Löhnert 2009, 163), but while the Old Babylonian version only consists of three Kirugus with a total of 189 lines, its 1st millennium BCE version

Emesal was long regarded as a women’s language – a sociolect – but this assumption has been refuted (see Shehata 2009, 83–84; Löhnert 2009, 6). 3 Balaĝs served to the pacify the gods during the daily cult (Cohen 1981, 49; Löhnert 2009, 56–58; Gabbay 2015, 102). 4 The Kirugus are usually distinguished by lines, and the texts sometimes contain a few narrative elements (Shehata 2009, 248). 5 See Gabbay 2015, 5. The main themes are the revelation of the god that leads to destruction in the land, and the lamentation of the goddess about her destroyed city and temple. Only laments by goddesses are known from Mesopotamia; male deities are depicted for their destructive power.

64

SARAH KÖHLER

contains four Kirugus with at least eighty-three lines each and one attached Eršema of nineteen lines (Löhnert 2009, 166). The fourth Kirugu, named dam-gara3 ba-da-kur2 du3 ka-naĝ-ĝa2 al-lu3 (“The merchant has turned away. The entire country is in confusion”; Löhnert 2009, 314–345), is pertinent to this study. It is part of a larger text block that contains a number of metaphors describing the desolation of the city, forming a closed unit of meaning (Löhnert 2009, 44–45). Furthermore, it contains a description of the disaster caused by the disappearance of Enlil, the reason for which is not stated. It is only preserved in five dutu-gin7 e3-ta manuscripts from the 1st millennium BCE,6 but there are some Old Babylonian parallels that reveal insights into the editing process over course of its transmission.7 The whole Kirugu consists of 33 lines and is structured by the use of morphological and grammatical elements. The first two lines introduce the scene, namely that Enlil, the merchant, has turned away from his city of Nippur. After some introductory litanies it is stated in line 15 that the god has made his city turn to a phantom (lil2la2-aš). Lines 16–21(22–24) then describe the consequences of Enlil’s neglect for the cult: Balaĝ: dutu-gin7 e3-ta, Kirugu n+1 (following Löhnert 2009, 324–326), lines 16–21: 16 (Ku4) (Ku8) 17 (Ku4) 18 (Ku4)

[mu-lu i]r2-ra-ke4 ir2 mu-un-še8?- še8? [. . .bi]-ki-ti i-[. . .] mu-lu ir2-ra-ke4 ir2 mu-ni-ib2-b[e2] [mu-lu] ad-ša4-ke4 ad-ša4 mu-ni-ib2-[be2] [ša2 n]i-is-sa-ti ina-[as]-su-[us] [mu-nu12-b]i du9-du9 mu-ni-ib2-[be2] [u2]-tul-la-šu2 i-ša2-[ab]

6 See Löhnert 2009, 314, manuscripts B15; Ku4; TCL 6, 55; B3; B14. 7 See Löhnert 2009, 314, manuscript S3. This Kirugu is also attested in Balaĝ u4-dam ki am3-us2 (see VAT 3421 + VAT 3432; Old Babylonian Period) and Balaĝ e3 tur3-gin7 nigin-na-am3 (see BM 88288; Old Babylonian Period). However, while the lines from dutu-gin7 e3-ta also appear on 1st millennium BCE manuscripts from Nineveh and from Hellenistic Babylon – both with Akkadian interlinear translations – the Old Babylonian manuscripts only have the Sumerian text.

DOOMED PROPHETS 19 (Ku4) 20 (Ku4) 21 (Ku4)

65

[sipa-bi] ge ir2-ra mu-ni-ib2-[be2] [re-ʾ]-u2-šu2 ina q[a-a]n bi-ki-ti ina-bu-[ub?] gu[du4*-b]i* EZEN x nu-mu-ni-ib2-[be2] pa-[š]i-is-su dup-pir ul i-qab-[bi] gala-e a šag4-zu nu-mu-ni-ib2-[be2] ka-lu-u2 a-ḫu-lap ŠAG4-bi-ka ul i-qab-b[i]

The man of weeping weeps there. The man of wailing wails there. Its cattle herder is giving a dead sound there. Its shepherd plays the reed-of-mourning there. Its gudu-priest no longer speaks the cry of joy. The gala-priest no longer chants there ‘Oh, your heart!’

Lines 16–21 are differentiated from those that follow them by a sequence of pairs and a grammatical structure of nouns in the ergative, nouns in the absolutive, and the use of the verbal form (nu)-u-ni-ib2be2 (Löhnert 2009, 319). They state that several groups of people, each of whom is referred to in a double-line, show unusual behavior due to Enlil’s neglect. There are some officials who behave exactly as they might be expected to after the destroyed city has been abandoned by its god (lines 16–17), but others do not (lines 18–21). The man of weeping and the man of wailing take office, but the priests are no longer able to fulfill their cultic duties after the events. The verb e/du11 (to speak) structures the unit grammatically and phonetically, and applies a negative nuance to ordinary daily activity or reverses its meaning (Löhnert 2009, 319). The following lines 22–23(24) are complementary with regard to the cult officials and their behavior after the destruction of the temple, and allow them to emerge from it. Here the Sumerian verb e3 (to step out) and its Akkadian equivalent (w)aṣû(m) structure the unit. Balaĝ: dutu-gin7 e3-ta, Kirugu n+1 (following Löhnert 2009, 326–327), lines 22–24: 22 (Ku4) 23 (Ku4) 24 (Ku4)

gudu4-bi ḫi-li-ta ba-ra-e3 pa-ši-is-su ina ku-uz-bi it-ta-ṣi en-bi ĝe6-par3-ta ba-ra-e3 en-šu2 ina gi-pa-ri it-ta-ṣi gala-e a-še-er-ra- ba-[ra-e3] [ka-lu-u2] ina ta-ni-iḫ [it-ta-ṣi]

66

SARAH KÖHLER Its gudu-priest steps out from the splendor. The en-priest steps out from the gipar-building.8 The gala-priest steps out sighing.

The double-line referencing the gudu-priest and en-priest was later supplemented by one about the gala-priest.9 Here the lines in Emesal, preserved in a 1st millennium BCE manuscript from Nineveh, are followed by an Akkadian interlinear translation. The references to the gudu-priest and en-priest, which are intended to describe pars pro toto the whole priesthood, are supplemented by one about a kalû-priest in 1st millennium BCE manuscripts (Löhnert 2009, 327– 328).10 One can argue that the expansion of a couplet into a triplet also adds a new dimension to the piece, because it links the content with the actual recital of the Balaĝ, performed (sighing) by the kalû (Löhnert 2009, 319). It also creates a sense of climax, as Anne Löhnert points out: “Die letzte Zeile dieses Triplets erhält durch eine kleine grammatikalische Änderung eine überraschende Klimax, denn mit dieser Zeile bezieht sich der Klagesänger wieder auf seine Tätigkeit in Zeiten allgemeiner Depression und geht ‘in Seufzen heraus’ (a-še-er-ta ba-ra-e3), d.h. auch er verläßt Tempel und Stadt” (Löhnert 2009, 319). The Balaĝ makes it clear that priests are no longer able to fulfill their cultic duties, except the kalû-priest, who does what is expected from him: he laments as he leaves the destroyed city. The Kirugu goes on to describe how wild animals have taken over the city, which has become a wasteland in which a fox has wiped everything away with its tail. Balaĝ: dutu-gin7 e3-ta (“Come out like the sun”); Kirugu n+1 (following Löhnert 2009, 326–327), lines 28–30:

The gipar-building served as the official residence of the en-priest and was related to the goddess Ninlil. The gipar-building from Ur is particularly well-known from excavations there. 9 Kirugus were not standardized. Within the synchronic and diachronic tradition, a Kirugu might be divided into different units, while the double-lines that normally begin Kirugus can be expanded to triplets or even entire litanies (Löhnert 2009, 43). 10 The text of Ku4 comes from Neo-Assyrian Nineveh (K.4613); the Akkadian term here is pašīšu-priest (Löhnert 2009, 327–328). 8

DOOMED PROPHETS 28 (Ku4): 29 (Ku4): 30 (Ku4):

67

ka5a kuĝ2-bi [m]i-ni-ib2-ur4-ur4-re še-le-bu zib-bat-su im-ta-na-aš-šar darmušen-e gu3-il2 i[m-ta-a]n-de2-de2-e it-ti-du-u2 ša2-[-qi2-iš iš-ta-na]-as-si šag4-bi lil2-la2-a[m3 bar-bi lil2-l]a2-am3 lib-ba-šu2 zi-[. . .]-qu-[ma]

The fox drags its tail there. The dar/ittidû-bird cries out from there with uplifted voice. Its interior is a phantom; [its exterior is a phantom].

The unit ends with the description of the city as a phantom, which directly connects the devastation with the destructive power of Enlil. The lord of wind (den-lil2-la2) has made his city a ghost town (lil2-la2am3) by leaving it. The Kirugu about the desolation of the city after Enlil has abandoned it is mainly known from a group of three EnlilBalaĝs, which together are listed in catalog IVR2 53+. These compositions form part of the daily dīk bīti ritual, performed before dawn, which was part of each cultic day until the Seleucid period (Gabbay 2013, 105). They call upon Enlil to calm his heart and put an end to the destruction. It is also he who is responsible for the devastation of Ur in the so-called Lament over Ur and Lament over Sumer and Ur. Manuscripts from the 1st millennium BCE show that this Kirugu had a relatively fixed structure, but the Old Babylonian parallels show greater textual variation.11 Similar variations can also be found in literary city laments, which share the descriptions of destroyed cities and temples with those in cultic laments, the Balaĝs and Eršemas, of the kalû. However, the city laments are more narrative in character and do not offer so many litanies, which is why they have so often been considered literary precursors of the later cultic Balaĝs (see Cooper 2006, 43; Cohen 1988, 34–44; Wischnowsky 2001, 34–40), an opinion that has been refuted (see Samet 2014, 13; Cooper 2006, 42– 43; Gabbay 2015, 20; cf. Krecher 1983, 1–6). Even if such Balaĝs are not known from 3rd millennium BCE sources, and we therefore have 11 Especially during the Old Babylonian period, in which considerable variations can be seen within the textual tradition. The 1st millennium BCE manuscripts show a more fixed text (Löhnert 2009, 50).

68

SARAH KÖHLER

no manuscripts that predate those of the city laments, they are wellattested in the Old Babylonian period and this is the same period that the city laments manuscripts are from. If Balaĝs were the liturgical religious forerunners that served as templates for literary narratives (see Samet 2014, 13; Cooper 2006, 42–43; Gabbay 2015, 20) then it may be possible to trace a development from liturgically composed units into narrative compositions. In summary, the subject of cult officials being affected by destruction is a constitutive element of a Kirugu about the city’s devastation that particularly belongs to the Enlil-Balaĝs. They have a long history, which can be traced from the Old Babylonian period to the Seleucid era, in part because they were used in daily rituals. The subject is founded on a fixed double-line, which in the 1st millennium BCE was extended to a triple line in order to integrate a further dimension, which links the text to its performance.

2. CULT OFFICIALS IN TIMES OF DESTRUCTION AS THE SUBJECTS OF CITY LAMENTS There are five Mesopotamian literary compositions called city or literary laments: the Lamentation over Sumer and Ur (LSUr), the Lamentation over Ur (LU), the Uruk Lamentation (LW), the Eridu Lamentation (LE), and the Nippur Lamentation (LN).12 Only three of these compositions can be reconstructed almost completely: the LSUr, LU and LN. The LU and LN lamentations are partially in Emesal, though this is limited to the speech of the city goddesses and to the ‘anthropomorphized’ city, and the narrative units are written in the main Sumerian dialect. The LSUr, LE, and LW texts are whol-

See Krecher 1983, 1–6: Krecher draws a distinction between historical, literary, cultic, and personal laments, but it is normal to distinguish only between literary, cultic, and personal laments, since it is understood that only limited historical data can be obtained from so-called historical laments, and the body of texts once considered historical are now counted among the literary or city laments. See the discussion in Samet 2016, 151–166, and for discussions about the genre of city laments with regard to biblical lamentations see Dobbs-Allsopp 1993, 97–164; Dobbs-Allsopp 2000, 625–630; Löhnert 2009, 7.

12

DOOMED PROPHETS

69

ly written in the main dialect. The city laments contain between 323 and 519 lines and are divided into Kirugus followed by Ĝešgeĝals. No city lament manuscripts are yet known after the Old Babylonian period. The LU (Samet 2014) can be completely reconstructed into eleven Kirugus and 438 lines. At least 100 manuscripts were used for the reconstruction. More than 80% of these witnesses come from Nippur, six from Ur, three from Kiš, and six are of unknown provenance. None of these manuscripts date before the Old Babylonian period. The LU and the LSUr both describe the downfall of the Third Dynasty of Ur (ca. 2004 BCE); including the absence of deities and the wailing of the city goddess because her city was destroyed by a storm. The eighth Kirugu of the LU describes the fate of the temple after the goddess Ningal abandoned it. She is invoked in the following series of questions in order to encourage her to return (see Black et al. 2016, 2.2.2, lines 347–349; Translation and line sequence follow Samet 2014, 72–73, 120): 347: 348: 349:

gudu4-bi ḫi-li-a ba-ra-mu-un-ĝen šag4-zu a-gin7 du3-am3 uri2ki eš3 lil2-e im-ma-an-ĝar i3-ne-še3-gin7 i3-e-am3-mu2 en-bi ĝi6-par3-ra ba-ra-mu-un-til3 i3-ne-še2-e-gin7 i3-e-am3-mu2

Its gudu-priest no longer walks in (his) splendor, how did your heart change? Ur, the shrine, has been delivered to the wind, now how will you thrive? Its en-priestess no longer lives in the ĝipar-building, now how will you thrive?

This passage mentions the same priests as those in the Balaĝ discussed above, who have been affected by the city’s fate, though here in the context of questions addressed to the goddess. Similar questions are normally found in certain Kirugus in the corpus of Balaĝs (see Cohen 1988, 59–60; Löhnert 2009, 3). In the LU, however, the en- and gudu-priests are supplemented with references to other priests who are similarly affected by the doom.13 The city has been The priests referenced lines 348–358 of the LU therefore appear to be a comprehensive listing rather than the two classes, en- and gudu-priests, found in the Balaĝ texts and in the LSUr, see Black et al. 2016, 2.2.2, lines

13

70

SARAH KÖHLER

turned to a “house of weeping” (e2 er2-ra) and “ruins” (du6-du6-da), while cult officials have ceased to perform their duties in the temple: “Ur has become a shrine of winds” (uri2ki eš3 lil2-e im-ma-a[n-ĝar]; Samet 2014, 248), while the Ĝešgeĝal of the Kirugu in the LU reads: “My rites have been alienated from me” (me-ĝešgeĝal mu-da-an-kur2ra; Samet 2014, 74–75, 105, line 386). The LSUr instead reads: “Du-ur, Enlil’s resting-place, has become a shrine of winds” (Black et al. 2016, 2.2.3, line 348) and contains a double-line about en-priests that serves as a text-structuring element, dividing the unit into single reports of destruction over various cities. The second Kirugu of the composition contains a recurring triad (Black et al. 2016, 2.2.3, lines 152–154; 182–184; 190–192; 203–205; 248–250): a iri gul-la e2 gul-la-ĝu10 gig-ga-bi im-me ĝi6-par4 kug nam-en-na-ba šu ba-e-la2-la2 en-bi ĝi6-par4-ta ba-da-an-kar ki-erim2-e ba-ab-de6 ‘Alas, the destroyed city, my destroyed house’ she cried bitterly. Its sacred gipar of the en-priesthood was defiled. Its en-priestess was snatched from the gipar and carried off to enemy territory.

Although the lines are presented continuously as a triad, the “Alas”line can be regarded as an addition to the couplet about the priests. The cry “Alas” itself also serves as a text-structuring line for the entire second Kirugu, and was probably used up to twenty times at the beginning of individual reports of city destructions (see Black et al. 350–358: “In the uzga shrine the priest who cherishes purification rites makes no purification rites for you. Father Nanna, your išib priest does not make perfect holy supplications to you. Your lumaḫ-priest does not dress in linen in your holy giguna shrine. Your righteous en priestess chosen in your ardent heart, she of the E-kiš-nu-ĝal, does not proceed joyously from the shrine to the ĝipar. The aua priests do not celebrate the festivals in your house of festivals. They do not play for you the šem and ala instruments which gladden the heart, nor the tigi. The black-headed people do not bathe during your festivals. Like . . . mourning has been decreed for them; their appearance has indeed changed.”

DOOMED PROPHETS

71

2016, 2.2.3, lines 118, 122, 135, 138, 142, 148, 154, 162, 182, 190, 203, 209, 277, 298, 518).14 The second unit deals with the path of destruction, which began in the north with the cities of Kiš and Kazallu and extended south. Inanna’s flight from Uruk and the report of how the enemy discovered the sacred gipar-shrine is narrated first, followed by a statement in lines 152–154 that the shrine was desecrated and its priests were deported to enemy territory. This is where the triplet first appears, though the refrain (a iri gul-la e2 gul-la-la-ĝu10 gig-ga-bi im-me) is not the introduction, but rather the conclusion of the passage. At this point, it seems that the refrain is contextually related to line 151, and the mention there of the gipar-shrine,15 which stands out because in other cases it directly introduces the passage, and is not attached to the end of a double-line. But the report that the giparpriesthood had been kidnapped still structures this unit, and concludes the individual regional descriptions and therefore serves a similar function to the refrain “Alas”.16 The units describing destructions by enemy invasions are interrupted by passages describing Enlil as a storm, for example in lines 163–173 and 214–250. The second Kirugu ends with a mention of Ur and the flight of the city goddess, and the third Kirugu then provides a detailed account on the destruction of Ur by Enlil. All references to the en-priesthood are related to the destruction and desolation of the city, a relationship already established in the Enlil-Balaĝ known as dutu-gin7 e3-ta. The third Kirugu also mentions that Adab is no longer inhabited, but rather “the snake of the mountains made his lair there, it became a rebellious land.”17 14 In some lines of the Nippur manuscripts the cry “Alas” is missing. 15 See Black

et al. 2016, 2.2.3, line 151: e2-an-na eš3 ĝi6-par4 kug-ga erim2-e igi ini-in-bar. 16 Even if one argues that these compositions are better understood to be part of an oral tradition, the surviving evidence comes from written manuscripts. It is possible to argue that the line starting “Alas” only became a refrain once it was connected to the double-line concerning the enpriesthood (even in oral traditions). 17 See Black et al. 2016, 2.2.3, line 145: muš kur-ra-ke4 ki-nu2 ba-ni-ib-ĝar kibal-še3 ba-ab-dug4.

72

SARAH KÖHLER

A further statement on the role of cult officials in times of destruction can be found in Suen’s lament in this Kirugu. This unit is about the destruction of Ur, the state capital of the Third Dynasty of Ur, and it provides a detailed account about related acts of war. It notes that Suen, the head of the local pantheon in Ur, prayed to Enlil for the restitution of the city and for the forgiveness of sins, while Enlil struck Ur with famine, the city lay fallow, food and drink was unavailable, no boats could get out of the city, and the waterholes were overgrown. Suen then complains to Enlil that there are neither firstborn offerings, nor food offerings, while “the en-priests of the countryside and the city have been carried off by phantoms (lila-la2). Urim, like a city raked by a hoe, is to be counted as a ruin mound (du6-du6-da). The Du-ur, Enlil’s resting place, has become a shrine of wind (eš3 lil2-la2). O Enlil, gaze upon your city, an empty wasteland” (Black et al. 2016, 2.2.3, lines 345–348). Here we find the same terminology as in the aforementioned Balaĝ and the LU. The fourth Kirugu then describes the devastating situation after the deities have fled. Famine reigns in Ur: “Inside Urim there is death, outside it there is death. Inside it we are to be finished off by famine” (Black et al. 2016, 2.2.3, line 399). Lines 420–434 indicate that wild animals have invaded the city, making it uninhabitable by humans. Before Suen again complains, this time outside the city, the abandonment is described in relation to the king’s duties and the cult. These lines differ significantly from those in the second Kirugu, and contain the following statement (Black et al. 2016, 2.2.3, lines 445–448): 445: 446: 447: 448:

engiz ensi kišib3-ĝal2-be2 eš-da šu li-bi2-in-du7-uš gu2 ki-še3 ĝal2-la-ba ba-e-sug2-sug2-ge-eš kur2-re ba-ab-laḫ5-e-eš uz-ga18 ku3 šu-luh dadag-ga ša3-gada-la2-be2-e-ne geš-hur me ku3-ga ba-da-ḫa-lam-e iri kur2-še3 ba-e-re7-eš

The cook, the dream interpreter, and the seal keeper did not perform the ceremonies properly. They stood by submissively and the foreigners carried them off. As the holy uzga-priests of the

18 The term ‘uzga’ seems to refer to an unknown type of priest; See the discussion in Michalowski 1989, 104–105.

DOOMED PROPHETS

73

sacred lustrations,19 the linen-clad priests forsook the divine plans and sacred divine powers; they departed to a foreign city.

In Suen’s lament over his destroyed city, it is not the en-priests were carried off by the enemy but other cult officials,20 while further cult officials forsook the divine plan and left for a foreign city. Only the minor cult officials were left, but they were unable to fulfill the ceremonies in the proper way. At first sight one might think this was an offence by the superior priests, but the situation is quite similar to that in aforementioned passages in which the city has been abandoned by its god and the temple is no longer functional. 21 What differs is the way in which the role of the priests, here uzga-priests, is described. This statement will be analyzed further, but a few preliminary remarks are required. The LSUr was reconstructed on the basis of about 60 manuscripts, all dated to the Old Babylonian period. The composition consists of five Kirugus, with a total of 519 lines. Most of the tablets and fragments come from Nippur and Ur, though one is from Larsa and two manuscripts are of unknown origin. The majority of the manuscripts are single-column tablets, so-called imgida tablets. Some of the Nippur manuscripts were excavated in ‘House F’ and some of those from Ur were found in ‘No. 1 Broad Street’, both of which have been identified as scribal schools based on the significant number of tablets found there. A comparison of the LSUr recensions from Nippur and from Ur shows that two slightly different versions were transmitted in the two locations. Among witnesses are a con19 Michalowski 1989, 64–65, 104–105. His translation is slightly different: “The holy uzga-priests of the sacred lustrations, the linen clad priests, forsake the sacred rites and decrees; they go off to a foreign city.” Compare also the discussion in Samet 2014, 120. 20 See line 347 of the LSUr, where the en-priests were carried off by phantoms. 21 See Black et al. 2016, 2.2.3, 441–445: “In the sacred bedchamber of Nanna musicians no longer played the Balaĝ drum. The sacred box that no one had set eyes upon was seen by the enemy. The divine bed was not set up; it was not spread with clean hay. The statues that were in the shrine were cut down.”

74

SARAH KÖHLER

siderable number of curricular compositions (Delnero 2016, 19–28, 31–32), and some manuscripts contained lines that were deliberately left blank, presumably because the scribe knew that further lines should be added at some point. Two observations can be made about the passage in lines 445– 448 of the LSUr. The first concerns the verbal forms used. Line 446 contains a transitive verb (ba-ab-laḫ5-e-eš “they carried them off”), which refers to the minor cult officials mentioned at the beginning of line 445. They stood submissively, and were carried off by foreigners (de6/lah5),22 indicating that they were affected by the destruction and therefore part of the enemy capture. This is not the case in line 448, where an intransitive verb ĝen (ba-e-re7-eš) is used instead. In the couplet of lines 447–448, which definitely belong together, the uzga-priests have departed (ĝen) but minor functionaries, those who tried to perform the ceremonies by themselves, were carried off (de6). By comparing the two statements one could interpret lines 447–448 as an accusation against the superior priests whose duties included purification rites: the uzga-priests not only forsook divine plans, they also departed of their own volition. One might also argue, however, that they were even more affected by the destruction and therefore chose to escape, not waiting for being carried off. The second observation refers to the transmission of line 448. Piotr Michalowski remarks in his edition of LSUr that “principle redactional differences” can be traced in several lines of the version from Ur that are missing in the version from Nippur (Michalowski 1989, 19). One manuscript from Ur seems to be an exception (Michalowski 1989, 19–20). The manuscript UET 6/2 133 contains the lines 418–447, 449– 451, 456–460, and 463–483 of the composite text, though partly in a different order (Ludwig 2009, 130–131). This is a single-column tablet, written in a slightly archaic hand and thus including archaic sign forms (Ludwig 2009, 130–131), but it probably belongs to a series of tablets, collectively UET 6/2 131–133, that once contained the entire composition because they offer no textual overlaps, but rather complement 22 Here, and in contrast to the recurring lines of the second Kirugu mentioned earlier, the plural form refers to the number of cult officials.

DOOMED PROPHETS

75

each other perfectly.23 However, line 448 is not only missing from the manuscript, but no blank space is left for it. Another manuscript from Ur, UET 6/2 134, testifies to the practice of leaving blank lines for parts of the text that were not immediately transmitted, used by scribes to show that something had been left out of the composition. For example, lines 452–455 and 457 are also omitted from UET 6/2 133, while UET 6/2 134 skips lines 454–456 and 459. While the missing lines are indicated by blank lines in the latter manuscript, UET 6/2 133 has no such indicators; it simply skips the passage. The missing line 448 does not alter the meaning of the unit, but it does mean that line 447 is in the unusual position of not having any verbal antecedent:24 “The cook, the dream interpreter, and the seal keeper did not perform the ceremonies properly. They stood by submissively and the foreigners carried them off. The holy uzga-priests of the sacred lustrations, the linen-clad priests [. . .].” It would be tempting to assume that the omission of line 448 has theological relevance, in that the scribe was aware that more cult officials were mentioned than those listed in line 445, and therefore chose only to cite line 447 and to omit the following one, without leaving a blank, to avoid causing offence to the holy uzga priests. But with regard to Old Babylonian literary texts this would normally be an ‘overinterpretation’, or better still a ‘misinterpretation’, which ignores the character of these texts, and that it would be better to argue that the scribe was sloppy, especially considering that the manuscript contains other single lines (without theological relevance) that were skipped (Michalowski 1989, 20). Yet such an (over)interpretation is interesting to the present investigation because similar statements and interpretations are common in the biblical textual tradition, as will be shown by the following case study on the Book of Jeremiah.

23 Tablets UET 2/6 131–133 show many formal similarities, which is why a multitablet series can be assumed. This series contains the greater part of the entire composition. See Ludwig 2009, 125. 24 UET 6/2 133 is a single-column tablet, which contains the lines 418–483; See Michalowski 1989, 233.

76

SARAH KÖHLER

3. DOOMED PROPHETS IN THE BOOK OF JEREMIAH Verses Jeremiah 4:9, 8:15, and especially 14:13–18 have been chosen for this discussion because of their pertinent content and context. Jeremiah 4:9–10 is part of an announcement about a foe from the north, detailed in Jeremiah 4:5–18. Jeremiah 8:15 immediately precedes the verses of Jeremiah 8:16–17 and the lament in Jeremiah 8:18–23,25 which both take up the theme of a foe from the north. Jeremiah 14:18b is part of the lament in Jeremiah 14:17–18, which is similar in content to that in Jeremiah 8:18–23, and represents the core of chapter 14. I argue that these verses mark the origins of interpretations of prophets as prophets of lies (‫ )ֶשֶׁקר‬and thus of the subject of ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophecy. Most scholars attribute these three passages to the context of the oldest texts without counting them among them, because although they appear among this basic layer, the verses themselves were mostly not attributed to the first collection. 26 They argue for this separation because they have the final form of the book in mind, in which the subject of ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophets has already been elaborated. They therefore assume that these verses deal with the subject, even though it belongs to a later stage in the development of the prophetic book. Rather, I argue that these verses have a lot in common with the motifs from the Balaĝs outlined above, and that they belong to the basic layer of the book, which contains descriptions of doom.27 25 I follow the counting of the Hebrew text of the Leningrad Hebrew Bible. In most English Bible editions, the verse is counted to chapter 9 (verse 9:1) and not to chapter 8, so there is no verse 8:23 there. 26 See among others Lange 2002, 93–105, 185–200; Schmid 1996, 330–340; Levin 1985, 153. 27 See Dobbs-Allsopp 1993, 137–142; Köhler 2017, 119–156; Pohlmann 1989, 115–127; Levin 1985, 153. For Levin, the oldest texts in the Book of Jeremiah consist of laments and descriptions of doom. These can be found in: Jeremiah 4:7a, 11aβb, 13, 15, 16aβb, 19–21, 29–31; Jeremiah 5:1a, 3b, 6a; Jeremiah 6:1–5*, 10a, 11b, 12a, 13a, 22aβb–23a; Jeremiah 8:4aβ–5a, 6b–7, 14a, 16, 18– 19aα, 20–23; Jeremiah 9:1–2a, 3, 7, 9, 16aβb–18abα, 20; Jeremiah 10:19–20, 22; Jeremiah 13:18–19a; Jeremiah 14:17ab–18a; Jeremiah 20:14a, 15, 18a; Jeremiah 22:10aα–b, 13–15; Jeremiah 23:9a, 10aαb; Jeremiah 30:5aβb–6; and Jeremiah

DOOMED PROPHETS

77

The verses of Jeremiah 4:9–10 directly follow the announcement in Jeremiah 4:5–8 that a foe approaches from the north. Jeremiah 4:5–8 is completed by a Setuma in 4:8. Whether these verses should be assigned to the previous section or should form a separate unit has been much debated. 28 Gunther Wanke emphasizes a clear break between Jeremiah 4:5–8 and Jeremiah 4:9 based on several factors, notably the introduction, but also the interruption to the announcements of doom that resulted from “Überlegungen über die Verantwortung für das kommende Geschehen” (Wanke 1995, 60).29 However, I believe that Wanke’s assumption concerning the intention of this verse is erroneous. The passage is not about responsibility, but instead contains a more detailed description of how the doom will affect certain groups of people. Verse 4:9 begins: “In that day (‫ )ַביּוֹם־ַההוּא‬the heart of the king and the heart of the officials will pass away,” and goes on “the priests will tremble (‫ שׁמם‬perfect cons. nipʿal)30 and the prophets will shudder (‫ תמהּ‬imperfect qal).”31 This chiastic expression is unique in the Hebrew Bible and, as such, it should not be understood in relation to other passages such as 31:15abα. See also Albertz 1982, 20–47, who assumes that genuine speech can be found in Jeremiah 2–6 and 30–31. Schmid 1996, 330–340, points out that the book’s starting point lies in chapters in 4–6*, 8–10*(–23), and 46–49*. 28 See Fischer 2005, 215–216 and Duhm 1901, 49–50, who both presume that a new section should begin at Jeremiah 4:9, and McKane 1986, 93, who declares that there is no intrinsic connection between Jeremiah 4:8 and 4:9, though they are linked thematically. He points out that the introduction ‫ ָהָיה ַביּוֹם־ַההוּא‬is part of a later insertion intended to locate Jeremiah 4:9b–c in the same time period as the destruction foretold in Jeremiah 4:6b–8. 29 Wanke 1995, 61, assumes that the verses already belonged to the Deuteromistic Theology, and hence that Jeremiah 4:9 was influenced by later additions such as those that can be found in Jeremiah 1:18, 2:26, and 8:1. I suggest that the opposite is true, and that these passages can better be explained as having been influenced by Jeremiah 4:9. 30 This verb can only be found in Leviticus 26:22, Jeremiah 4:9, Ezekiel 4:17, 6:4, and 30:7, and in Amos 7:9. See Fischer 2005, 215. 31 See Isaiah 13:18, for only here are the use and content of the verb similar to those in Jeremiah. The verb is further attested in Genesis 43:33, Job 26:11, Psalm 48:6, Ecclesiasticus 5:7, Isaiah 13:8 and 29:9, Jeremiah 4:9, and Habakkuk 1:5.

78

SARAH KÖHLER

those in Jeremiah 2:26; 1:18; or 8:1. It should be interpreted in its given context (Wanke 1995, 60). Priests and prophets appear in the Book of Jeremiah as a group and the terms should thus be understood as pars pro toto, as the en- and gudu-priests in the aforementioned Balaĝs are. In Jeremiah, priests tremble at the doom that has left the cities uninhabited (‫ֵמֵאין יוֵֹשׁב‬, see Jeremiah 4:7). The shuddering – ‫שׁמם‬, the nipʿal that could also be translated as “make desolate” (e.g. Jeremiah 10:25) – of the prophets (Jeremiah 4:9) is connected with the devastation described in Jeremiah 4:7b, where the destroyers have turned the land into a desert (‫)ַשָׁמּה‬. In this context neither the priestly nor the prophetic ministry are to be blamed.32 But instead of using the verb ‘to shudder’ the Targum presents a different interpretation: “the prophets lie to confuse them” (‫)וּנִבֵיי ִשׁק ָרא ִישַׁתעְמֻמון‬. It is this interpretation of events that leads to the subject of ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophecy, and lays blame on the prophetic ministry. However, it seems more reasonable to conclude that Jeremiah 4:9aβ–b followed from Jeremiah 4:7, and therefore that it completes the description of the doom suffered by the cult officials. This position is supported by the use of tenses in the verse. The imperfect tense is taken up in Jeremiah 4:9 (‫ )אבד‬on the basis of its use in 4:7, but continues by using the perfect consecutive. This relationship was interrupted by the insertion of Jeremiah 4:8a, which was intended to create an imperative framework, and Jeremiah 4:8a thus refers to the content of 4:7, with 4:8b later being added in order to complete the unit. It was only after the separation of Jeremiah 4:7 and 4:9aβ–b that the insertion of 4:9aα as an introduction and the subsequent interpretation of this verse by Jeramiah 4:10 has been possible. The original statement, however, was that the cities would be destroyed and not only would their inhabitants perish, but also the heart of the

32 See Hossfeld and Meyer 1973, 63. No offences are mentioned in Jeremiah 4:9, and thus Hossfeld and Meyer state “ihnen wird mit den übrigen Vertretern der Oberschicht zusammen angesagt, daß sie den festen Boden unter den Füßen verlieren und daß ihr Illusionen wie Seifenblasen platzen werden.”

DOOMED PROPHETS

79

king and the city officials. 33 Even the cult officials would be affected by the destruction. But in the present context Jeremiah 4:9aα has been editorially linked to form a coherent unit with the rest of Jeremiah 4:9–10, which has become a starting point for a theological discussion concerning the role of prophets in times of destruction. This topic was later elaborated with further additions, but Jeremiah 4:9 and 4:10 did not originally belong together, because Jeremiah 4:5–9 is in poetic language and 4:10 is in prose.34 Moreover, Jeremiah 4:10 has a different opening in the Masoretic text than it does in the Codex Alexandrinus of the Septuagint (LXX). While the Greek translation offers a plural verb (καὶ εἶπαν), the Hebrew uses the singular (‫אַמר‬ ֹ ‫ ; ָו‬Tiemeyer 2009, 248). Through the use of a plural introduction, the Greek version of Jeremiah 4:10 directly follows from 4:9b, in which the prophets and/or priests all say “Ah, Lord Yahweh” (‫)ֲאָההּ ֲאד ֹ ָני ְיה ִוה‬. In the Hebrew text, this utterance is ascribed to a single speaker who, in context, could be the prophet. It should be noted that the Greek translation introduces the subject of the prophets of doom in Jeremiah 4:10 by attributing these words to the cult officials. Furthermore, Jeremiah 4:10 contains an accusation that the salvation announced by God was merely a delusion, because he had already decided on the destruction (Jeremiah 4:11–13).35 So instead of condemning the prophets of salvation, the proclamation is presented as God’s message conveyed through the prophets, but that God himself invalidated the message by ordering the destruction. Nevertheless, Jeremiah 4:10 should be considered to be a later addition attached to Jeremiah 4:9, which raises a historicaltheological question: Why were the prophets sent by God wrong, See Münderlein 1979, 121, who points out that even Jeremiah 4:10 should count as a lament. 34 See McKane 1986, 93, who argues that the change between poetic and prose is a marker for the independence of Jeremiah 4:10. See also Tiemeyer 2009, 247. 35 Pohlmann 1989, 79 argues that God is the speaker in Jeremiah 4:10. He also assumes that this verse is a reflection about the relevance of salvific prophetic messages after the destruction in 587 BCE. 33

80

SARAH KÖHLER

and why had doom come? The verse does not attribute blame to the prophetic ministry or their proclamation, but rather accuses God. By placing the accusation in the mouth of a speaker, in the first person singular, the passage in Jeremiah 4:9–10 becomes a redactional starting point for the idea that the prophets of salvation are prophets of lies.36 It is no coincidence that the line ‟Ah, Lord Yahweh” in Jeremiah 1:6, 14:13, and 32:17 is also spoken by an individual using the first person singular, and is used elsewhere as an introduction to an accusation against priests and prophets (see Jeremiah 14:13–16; 32:32). Karl-Friedrich Pohlmann’s argument that the first collection of the Book of Jeremiah lacked any judgement or theological explanation, and that this only appeared in later states of the book’s development, is pertinent here (Pohlmann 1989, 181–193). If one overlooks the subject of ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophecy, which has a strong presence in the final form of the book, there is no reason to discount Jeremiah 4:9 from the descriptions of doom in the basic layer of the book. What the Book of Jeremiah reveals here is the process of textual transmission and editorial processing, which then becomes a starting point for one of the central topics in the prophetic book. This approach is even clearer from a redactional point of view in Jeremiah 14:13–16. In accordance with Christoph Levin and Hannes Bezzel, I propose that Jeremiah 13:19a and the lament in Jeremiah 14:17aβ–18a belong to the basic layer of the book, and that they form the starting point of Jeremiah 14.37 However, I do not agree with the decision to exclude Jeremiah 18b from the lament.38 The connection between Jeremiah 13:19a and 14:17aβ–18 is subsequently followed by the so-

See Hossfeld and Meyer 1973, 247. Holladay 1986, 15–16 dates these verses to 600/601 BCE, and argues that the verses are from the same period of Jeremiah’s life as Jeremiah 2:26–27, and belong to the second scroll of Jeremiah 36. See also Tiemeyer 2009, 249 and Pohlmann 1989, 79. Pohlmann supposes that Jeremiah proclaimed both salvation and doom, and that Jeremiah 32:42 explains that salvation could only be prophesied after calamity had arrived. 37 Levin 1985, 153; Bezzel 2007, 102–103. 38 See Levin 1985, 153–154 n. 22; Levin 2004, 264 n. 29. 36

DOOMED PROPHETS

81

called ‘2.sg.fem.Schicht’ (second feminine layer) in Jeremiah 13:20– 22, 25–27 and Jeremiah 15:5–6, which links the lament to Jerusalem.39 The inclusion of Jeremiah 13:19b and (23)–24 can then be explained by an interpretive reading of ‫ל ֹא ָי ָדעוּ‬. Based on Jeremiah 13:19a, where it is said that the cities of the south are closed, the phrase is translated for a context in which the priests and prophets “do not know” the land in which they are dashing around (Jeremiah 14:18).40 Moreover, the insertion of the ‘2.sg.fem.Schicht’ before the lament, as well as the interpretation that the verse indicates the deportation of Judah, requires both the insertion of Jeremiah 14:17aα in response to the question of duration in Jeremiah 13:27, and the reaction to the lament with regard to the deportation in Jeremiah 15:1b–2. This insertion splits the original connection between the country’s situation, Jerusalem, and the lament. By adding Jeremiah 15:1b–2 in response to Jeremiah 14:18, God becomes the one who initiates judgment. Jeremiah 15:2 further extends the lament by its use of the terms “sword” and “famine”. The lament, in which those who are killed by the sword (‫ )ַחְלֵלי־ֶח ֶרב‬and those who are starving from famine (‫ )ַתֲּחלוֵּאי ָרָﬠב‬are mourned, now becomes an announcement that God is responsible for sending the sword and famine to the people. Likewise, the insertion of Jeremiah 14:13–16, which are about the prophets, could also be explained because they include both terms, but this requires further examination. The word ‫( ֶשֶׁקר‬lie/trick), already used in the ‘2.sg.fem.Schicht’ of Jeremiah 13:25, where it is said that Jerusalem trusted in lies, is taken up by Jeremiah 14:13–16 in the accusation that the prophets led people to ‫ֶשֶׁקר‬. Jeremiah 14:18 helps to explain why the inserted passages about the prophets in Jeremiah 14:13–16 were brought into the chapter. Levin excludes Jeremiah 14:18b from the original lament and therefore from the basic layer of the chapter (Levin 1985, 153–156), but no grammatical, syntactic, or other reasons speak for his suggestion. In my opinion, there is no conclusive argument for regarding Thus, the lament about Jerusalem, personified here, frames the cries of the prophets in Jeremiah 14:17. See Levin 1985, 153–154; Bezzel 2007, 102–103. 40 Further, God’s decision to scatter the people in Jeremiah 13:24 seems to refer to Jeremiah 5:13, and the scattering of priests and prophets. 39

82

SARAH KÖHLER

Jeremiah 14:18b as a later addition to 14:17–18a, and so I conclude that 14:18b belongs to the description of doom in the lament and is thus part of the basic layer of Jeremiah 14. If one does not think in terms of the final book, including its expansive descriptions of ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophets, there is no need to separate Jeremiah 14:18b from the lament. The translation that prophet and priest “dash around the country with no knowledge,”41 offers a statement that corresponds to similar descriptions in Mesopotamian laments that portray the situation of cult officials in times of destruction: The cult officials could not fulfill their usual duties in this situation and they are not able to reveal the reason for the doom. The passage offers no accusation and does not correspond to the judgmental insertion on the question of ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophecy added in Jeremiah 14:13–16.42 It is more reasonable to suggest that Jeremiah 14:18b was originally part of the lament, and therefore prompted in combination with Jeremiah 13:25 the insertion of Jeremiah 14:13–16. As noted, there is no reason to separate Jeremiah 14:18b from 14:18a,43 only thematic ones, but this only makes sense with the final book in mind. Instead, it is more probable that this verse is part of the original doom description, which focuses on the situation of the cult officials in times Jeremiah 14:18b can be translated accordingly; see Wanke 1995, 145–146. The supposed translation of Jeremiah 14:18b (‫ִכּי־ ַגם־ ָנִביא ַגם־כֵֹּהן ָסֲחרוּ ֶאל־‬ ‫ )ֶא ֶרץ ְול ֹא ָי ָדעוּ‬could explain why ‫ ֲאֶשׁר‬is missing here, though the use of the preposition remains obscure; see Bezzel 2007, 88 n. 158. Most scholars change the preposition to ‫ֵאת‬, but it is probably better to translate the preposition ‫ אל‬in combination with the verb ‫ סחר‬in a local way; see Baumgartner and Koehler 2004a, 48–49. 42 See Meyer 1977, 65. Cf. Bezzel 2007, 106, who offers the translation: ‟Ja sowohl Priester als auch Propheten werden in ein Land ziehen, (das) sie nicht kennen,” so he adds the topic of deportation here. But the subject of exile has no place here, because the lament is above all about terrible conditions in the country. Bezzel 2007, 106, who assumes that Jeremiah 14:11–17a, 18b* and Jeremiah 15:1–2a, 3a, 9b are “grosso modo” later insertions into the chapter and who argues that Jeremiah 14:13 and Jeremiah 14:18b were added at around the same time, offers no argument for the separation of 14:18b from the lament in 14:17–18a. For a more detailed grammatical analysis of the verse concerning the missing ‫ֲאֶשׁר‬, see Köhler 2017, 232–233. 43 In fact, the verse fits perfectly in the tense of its context. 41

DOOMED PROPHETS

83

of destruction. It would therefore provide a reason to insert Jeremiah 14:13–16 into the chapter, because the entry of verses 13–16 answers the question of the function and trueness of the prophetic proclamation in the light of the destruction.44 The announcement of doom in Jeremiah 15:2 and the prophets and priest in Jeremiah 14:18b are taken up by Jeremiah 14:13–16 making the cult officials responsible for the destruction using the word ‫ֶשֶׁקר‬. Therefore, the insertion of Jeremiah 14:13–16 is likely due to the ‘2.sg.fem.Schicht’ in Jeremiah 13:25, based on the use of the term ‫ֶשֶׁקר‬, as well as on the lament in Jeremiah 14:17aβ–18, based on two terms of destruction: by the “sword” (‫ )ֶח ֶרב‬and “famine” (‫) ָרָﬠב‬. The prophets mentioned in Jeremiah 14:18b were blamed because they have not prophesied destruction by sword and famine, but peace. The argument that Jeremiah 14:18b belongs to the basic layer, and thus to the lament, makes it more plausible that the subject of prophets should be extended to the context of Jeremiah 14. At this point, one can observe how a description of the affected cult officials was later reinterpreted, into claims that cult officials had deceived the people. This interpretation leads to the theological issue of ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophecy, as does Jeremiah 4:9. I will present an overview in order to better understand the process in Jeremiah 14: 13:19a them ...

The towns of the Negev are shut up with no one to open

13:20–22, 25–27 ‘2.sg.fem. Schicht’: Address and Accusation to Jerusalem ... 14:13–16 THEN I SAID: “AH, LORD YAHWEH! HERE ARE THE PROPHETS SAYING TO THEM, ‘YOU SHALL NOT SEE THE SWORD (‫)ֶח ֶרב‬, NOR SHALL YOU HAVE FAMINE (‫) ָרָﬠב‬, BUT I WILL GIVE YOU TRUE PEACE IN THIS PLACE.” 44 See Meyer 1989, 65. Meyer also interprets Jeremiah 14:18b as containing an exilic statement, but notes that this contradicts Jeremiah 14:15. The only way to fix this problem is by interpreting 14:18 as the starting point of ‟einer massiven Prophetenpolemik in unserem Abschnitt.” Even if Meyer’s argument differs from that of the present paper, his conclusion is similar: that Jeremiah 14:18 is the origin of 14:13–16.

84

SARAH KÖHLER 14AND YAHWEH SAID TO ME:

(‫)ֶשֶׁקר‬

IN MY NAME;

I

THE

PROPHETS ARE PROPHESYING LIES

DID NOT SEND THEM, NOR DID

I

COMMAND

THEM OR SPEAK TO THEM. THEY ARE PROPHESYING TO YOU A LYING VISION, WORTHLESS DIVINATION, AND THE DECEIT OF THEIR OWN MINDS. 15THEREFORE THUS SAYS YAHWEH CONCERNING THE PROPHETS

I DID NOT SEND THEM, AND WHO SAY, “SWORD (‫ )ֶח ֶרב‬AND FAMINE (‫ ) ָרָﬠב‬SHALL NOT COME ON THIS LAND”: BY SWORD (‫ )ֶח ֶרב‬AND FAMINE (‫ ) ָרָﬠב‬THOSE PROPHETS SHALL BE CONSUMED. 16AND THE PEOPLE TO WHOM THEY PROPHESY SHALL BE THROWN OUT INTO THE STREETS OF JERUSALEM, VICTIMS OF FAMINE (‫ ) ָרָﬠב‬AND SWORD (‫)ֶח ֶרב‬. THERE SHALL BE NO ONE TO BURY THEM-THEMSELVES, THEIR WIVES, THEIR SONS, AND THEIR DAUGHTERS. FOR I WILL POUR OUT THEIR WICKEDNESS UPON THEM. WHO PROPHESY IN MY NAME THOUGH

... 14:17aβ.18 My eyes run down with tears night and day, and let them not cease, for the virgin daughter – my people – is struck down with a crushing blow, with a very grievous wound. If I go out into the field, look – those killed by the sword (‫ !)ַחְלֵלי־ֶח ֶרב‬And if I enter the city, look – those sick with famine (‫ !)ַתֲּחלוֵּאי ָרָﬠב‬Both prophet and priest dash around the country and have no knowledge (‫) ְול ֹא ָי ָדעוּ‬.

... 15:5f ‘2.sg.fem.Schicht’: Address and Accusation to Jerusalem

Basic Layer in Jer 13:19a and 14:17aβ–18

Addition: ‘2.sg.fem.Schicht’: 13:20–22.25–27; 15,5–6 Various additions: ‟grosso modo”: 13:19b, (23)–24; 14:17aα; 15:1aα–b, 2, (3–4); 15:1aβ as well as 14:1, 2–6.11

JER 14:13–16: ADDITION ABOUT PROPHETS USING JER 14:18; 15:2 AND FIRST ADDITION OF 2.SG.FEM. (13:25) Appendices: 14:7–9, (10, 12), 19–22

Neither Jeremiah 4:9–10 nor Jeremiah 14:18 originally conferred blame; the passages merely described how cult officials were affected

DOOMED PROPHETS

85

by the destruction. The editorial process in Jeremiah 14 is comparable to that in Jeremiah 4:9. The base text of chapter 14 (Jeremiah 13:19a and 14:17aβ–18) contains a description of the doom affecting the country, and follows ancient Mesopotamian parallels by referring to certain groups of people, but a later interpretation was subsequently added. This interpretation should be understood in the context of the fundamental theological problems raised by destruction: How could God let this happen? Why couldn’t the priests and prophets do anything to avoid it? What could they do afterwards? In the Book of Jeremiah, narratives of ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophecy were later inserted to try to provide an answer, and the people and cult officials were blamed for the calamity, not God. Jeremiah 14:19b, a part of the inserted lament of the people (verses 19–22), is later attached to Jeremiah 14:18, just as Jeremiah 4:10 was attached to 4:9.45 Moreover, Jeremiah 8:15 is on the same editorial level as Jeremiah 14:19b and Jeremiah 4:10, in that the verse directly follows Jeremiah 8:14bα, which accuses God in a situation of immanent need. Both Jeremiah 8:14a and 8:14b already recognize that the downfall was punishment by God for Judah’s guilt, while Jeremiah 8:15 just as Jeremiah 14:19b state that they hoped for salvation, but were terrified. The prophets and priests in descriptions of doom (Jeremiah 4:9–(10); 5:30–31; (6:11–15); 14:11–16, 17, 18; 18:18; 23:9–12, 14–15, 16– 22) came to be blamed in later editions (Lange 2002, 93–105, 185– 205), and such additions have usually been designated ‘Deuteronomistic’ (see also Jeremiah 2:26 and Jeremiah 32:32; Lange 2002, 185– 205), but they are primarily related to the context of Jeremiah 4:9 and 14:18, as well as to the later verses in Jeremiah 8:1, 5:31, 6:13//8:10, and 23:11, where the cult members are all regarded negatively. The key word used for blame is ‫“( ֶשֶׁקר‬lie/falsehood”; see Jeremiah 5:31; 6:14;

45 See Wanke 1995, 145–146: “Ja sogar Prophet und Priester durchziehen ‹das Land›, haben aber keine Einsicht.” Even though the verse is difficult to translate, it seems to point out that the cult officials were homeless and awkward because of the calamity. They did not know what to say or do; cf. Bezzel 2007, 88 note 158.

86

SARAH KÖHLER

8:10; 14:13–16).46 The accusation that the Word was not with them and that the prophets became as wind (‫ )ְלרוּ ַח‬is reminiscent not only of the destroyed city itself, which was devastated by a storm (see e.g., Jeremiah 4:11–12, 18:17, 22:22 and 49:36; compare these with the aforementioned phrase “Ur has become a shrine of winds”), but also of a statement found in an Enlil-Balaĝ of the kalû called ud-dam ki am3-us2, which contains the following line: “His word has no diviner, has no interpreter of signs.”47 This line emphasizes that Enlil’s word can no longer be altered by divinatory methods; the disaster was decided by the god and has already occurred. The statement therefore differs from those in the Book of Jeremiah, even if one further quotes the Balaĝ, which goes on: “Let me bring his word to the diviner: that diviner is a liar. Let me bring his word to the interpreter of signs: that interpreter of signs is a liar.”48 One could be reminded here of Jeremiah 6:13 and 14:14, if one replaces “diviner” with “prophet” and “interpreter” with “priest”. 49 The imagery and terminology seem similar, but the theology behind them is different. The statement in the Balaĝ is explained by Uri Gabbay as follows: “the diviner seeks to reveal the divine manifestaMentions of prophets who are depicted as part of the destruction (Jeremiah 2:30) and the announcement disaster (Jeremiah 5:13) probably belong to older editorial stages. 47 See Cohen 1988, 123:14 (and 28–31): e-ne-eĝ3-ĝa2-ni a-zu nu-un-tuku šimmu2 nu-un-tuku (a-mat-su ba-ra-a ul i-šu ša-i-la ul i-šu); This Balaĝ is listed together with dutu-gin7 e3-ta in the catalogue IVR2 53+ as an Enlil-Balaĝ, and was in constant use from the 2nd millennium BCE until the 1st millennium BCE. 48 See Cohen 1988, 124:35–36: e-ne-eĝ3-ĝa2-ni a-zu ga-am3-ma-ga a-zu-bi lulIa/a-mat-su ana ba-ri-i ib-ba-ab-bal-ma ba-ru-u2 šu-u2 is-sa-ra-ar2; e-ne-eĝ3ĝa3-ni šim-mu2 ga-am3-ma-ga šim-mu2-bi lul-Ia/ana ša2-i-li ib-ba-bal-ma ša2i-li šu-u2 is-sa-ra-ar2; See also CDLI, P414366 (BM 99265); CDLI P398038 (K.9316; Niniveh); CDLI P414269 (VAT 247 + VAT 1815); CDLI P414268 (VAT 269 + VAT 272 + VAT 285 + VAT 417 + VAT 438 + VAT 1774 + VAT 1705; Hellenistic Babylon); CDLI P346288 (UET 6/2 203 rev., U.6321; Neo-Babylonian Ur). 49 See Jeremiah 6:13b: “[…] and from prophet to priest, everyone deals falsely” and Jeremiah 14:14aα: “And the LORD said to me: The prophets are prophesying lies in my name.” 46

DOOMED PROPHETS

87

tion in order to foretell its consequences; however, the theology of Emesal prayers does not allow any investigation of the divine manifestation or the word of the god” (Gabbay 2014, 27).50 The description in the cultic laments is of a final, fulfilled divine decision, but unlike in Jeremiah 6:13b and 14:14aα there is no implication of offence and the question of guilt is irrelevant. The cult officials were merely part of the destruction, and could not fulfill their duties in this situation, something also stated in the Balaĝ dutu-gin7 e3-ta and in the city laments. The Book of Jeremiah instead focuses on the prophetic ministry – mentioned in the Bible as the only ‘true’ cultic ministry – that Jeremiah himself holds in the end – as well as the guilt contained in the ‫ ֶשֶׁקר‬that leads to a comprehensive theological treatment in which the destruction is processed literarily. The focus shifts from the priests and prophets to the prophetic ministry, which has the task of predicting events, and which in theological reflection is now divided into ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophets, the latter described as “prophets of lies.” Yet Jeremiah 4:9, 14:17–18, and 18:15 demonstrate that the basic layer of the Book of Jeremiah also contained verses in which prophets and priests, pars pro toto, were merely affected by the destruction. In the further literary development, in which certain cult officials participated in the destruction, the Book of Jeremiah focuses on the prophetic ministry and the separation of this into ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophets with the key word ‫ֶשֶׁקר‬, and is the step that then contextualizes the self-reference of the protagonist and his subsequent literary representation. The portrayal of Jeremiah as a figure standing against society and as God’s only true representative takes place in

Gabbay 2014, who continues on page 28: “The divine manifestation has two phases: the first is the Word, the unchangeable announcement of the decision of the god; the second is the manifestation itself, embodied in the destruction brought by the enemy.” What differs between divination and lamentation is their “temporal standpoint . . . Lamentations are written from the standpoint of the event itself, or even after it, describing the horrible consequences. Divination, on the other hand, is performed prior to the event, when the first message, i.e., the sign, is given.” 50

88

SARAH KÖHLER

the context of ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophets,51 and the literary figure of Jeremiah thus arose in connection with the description of doom and the subject of ‘true’ prophecy.52 The theme of ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophets was then further expanded, and chapters 27–29 were added to further deepen the subject. Jeremiah became the prophet who, as the true one, anticipated the message he proclaimed and suffered under it. Matthijs J. De Jong assumes that the image of prophets as liars was an original part of the book (De Jong 2011, 498). I contend that the basic layer did not contain this, but rather represented prophets and priests as having been affected by the destruction just as ordinary people had. This leads to the conclusion that it is also inappropriate to call Jeremiah 4:9–10, 8:15, and 14:13–18 ‘Deuteronomistic’.53 In accordance with De Jong, however, the initial point of characterizing Jeremiah as a prophet – and more precisely as a prophet of doom – can be seen in Jeremiah 4:9 and 14:18, as well as in their subsequent interpretations (De Jong 2012, 24). Because the subject of ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophecy is based on laments, which are likely ‘Jeremianic’ and are probably part of the oldest passages therein, it is so pertinent in the final form of this Hebrew Bible Book of Jeremiah. The subject of ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophecy, as well as the depictions of Jeremiah in which he is contrasted with these prophets, belong to Jeremiah is not addressed with a cultic title in speeches against ‘false’ prophets. However, he is described as the bearer of the Word of God, who announces judgement (see Jeremiah 15:16–17.20). The verb ‫( נבא‬prophesy) is used to describe his activity, even though he does not bear the title of prophet, and thus he distances himself from salvation-prophetic ‘liars’; see Köhler 2017, 222–237. 52 This is also deeply rooted in depictions of Jeremiah as a prophet of doom and in the announcement of judgement that was attributed to him; See Jeremiah 4:9–10; 5:30–31; 6:11–15; 14:11–16, 17, 18; 18:18; 23:9–12, 14–15, 16–22. 53 Cf. De Jong 2011, 498; Lange 2002, 185–205. This attribution is only partially correct, as it is based on the assumption that the Deuteronomistic editors not only adopted an originally Jeremianic topic to the Book of Deuteronomy, but also elaborated upon it within the prophetic book itself. More obvious is the assumption that Deuteronomy was supplemented and extended with texts that have their core in the Book of Jeremiah itself. 51

DOOMED PROPHETS

89

later editorial stages in the development of the book, in which an explanation of the disaster is sought ex eventu.

4. SUMMARY Unlike the Mesopotamian texts, the Book of Jeremiah in its final form is a literary composition, the product of many hands and redactors. Yet the basic layer of the Book of Jeremiah shares some similarities with ancient Near Eastern laments, in particular concerning the subject of cult officials in times of destruction. It was neither the intention nor the aim of this paper to propose an intertextual connection, but instead to reveal some relevant commonalities and to propose the further development of a special topic. Some final remarks on the comparison between the Mesopotamian texts and relevant issues appearing in the Book of Jeremiah can be made. The first example discussed in this paper is of a literary description of doom, contained a binary couplet that mentions two groups of cult officials who were affected by it. The en- and gudupriests in the Balaĝ and the priests and prophets in the Book of Jeremiah serve as pars pro toto for all cult officials affected by the destruction of a city. In 1st millennium BCE manuscripts of the Balaĝ, this couplet was extended to form a triplet that linked the text both to the performance and its performer. In the Book of Jeremiah this was greatly elaborated in the person of Jeremiah as a prophet, who suffers for his God-given mission. It is likely that only by referring to the protagonist himself could the subject of ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophets become more relevant in the book. While the cult officials in the dutu-gin7 e3-ta behave in ways that seem unlikely, given the extent of the destruction, in Jeremiah the prophets are portrayed as having lied. A contrived contrast of ‘true’ and ‘false’, good and bad prophets opposing one another, was created.54 In the city laments the subject of cult officials being affected by destruction takes on great significance, being used as a refrain and

See De Jong 2012, 26, who points out “the biblical contrast between the true message of judgement and the false message of peace, is not adequately described by the terms ‘true versus false prophecy’.”

54

90

SARAH KÖHLER

encompassed by different cult officials, while in Jeremiah the topic is reiterated in numerous single verses, sections, and even entire chapters. Some passages of the city laments, in particular those that could easily be misinterpreted by outsiders, share strong similarities with the theology found in the texts about ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophets,55 where one can find an Israelite, theological answer to what caused the destruction. The subject of cult officials in times of destruction was further expanded by interpretations inserted into the prophetic book. This process, which is barely noticeable in the Mesopotamian texts, is so strongly developed in the Book of Jeremiah that it can be conceived as a theology that tries to reflect on and to explain the disaster. The loss of the king and temple, and thus of the cult, instigated a theological problem that needed to be solved, and the resulting theology is presented in form of an “Irrealis der Vergangenheit,” which served to vindicate God (Bezzel 2017, 22–23).56 This is one of several theological answers contained in the Bible: If the people had never listened to ‘false’ prophets, or if these prophets had never prophesied lies, then there would have been an opportunity to prevent the disaster. No answer to such questions is found in the Mesopotamian texts. Indeed, even specialists are forbidden from searching for an answer. The answer remains unspoken. In the Book of Jeremiah the answer is provided, and it becomes part of a process of coping with defeat. The people that trusted in lies did not listen to the ‘true’ prophet sent by God, and they were the cause of the destruction. But Jeremiah, even though he suffered, did not leave like the priests in the Lament over Sumer and Ur. He remained the one and only spokesperson of his God.

55 At

least, no historical background is assumed here regarding the groups of ‘true’ and ‘false’ prophets, though similar dualisms based on historical cult ministries appear in ancient Near Eastern lament literature, as well as in the basic layer of the Book of Jeremiah. 56 See Bezzel 2017, 22–23, who shows that another answer lies in the depiction of prophets as penitential preachers.

DOOMED PROPHETS

91

ABBREVIATIONS BM CDLI IVR2 TCL 6 UET VAT

British Museum Cuneiform Digital Library Initiative (cdli.ucla.edu) Rawlinson and Pinches 1891 Thureau-Dangin 1922 Gadd and Kramer 1966 Vorderasiatische Abteilung, Tontafeln (Vorderasiatisches Museum Berlin)

BIBLIOGRAPHY Albertz, Rainer 1982. “Jer 2–6 und die Frühzeitverkündigung Jeremias.” Zeitschrift für Alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 94: 20–47. Baumgartner, Walter, and Ludwig Koehler 2004a. Hebräisches und Aramäisches Lexikon zum Alten Testament. 3. Auflage. Band I .‫ע־א‬. Leiden: Brill Academic Publications. Baumgartner, Walter, and Ludwig Koehler 2004b. Hebräisches und Aramäisches Lexikon zum Alten Testament. 3. Auflage. Band II ‫ת־פ‬. Leiden: Brill Academic Publications. Becker, Uwe 2006. “Die Entstehung der Schriftprophetie.” In Die unwiderstehliche Wahrheit. Studien zur alttestamentlichen Prophetie, edited by Ernst–Joachim Waschke, Raik Heckl, and Benjamin Ziemer, 3–20. Leipzig: Evangelische Verlags-Anstalt. Bezzel, Hannes 2007. Die Konfessionen Jeremias. Eine redaktionsgeschichtliche Studie. Berlin: de Gruyter. Bezzel, Hannes 2017. “‘Poenitentiam agite!’ Prophetische Bußpredigt im Alten Testament.” Berliner Theologische Zeitschrift 34(1): 7– 24. Black, Jeremy A., Graham Cunningham, Jarle Ebeling, Esther FlückigerHawker, Eleanor Robson, Jon Taylor, and Gábor Zólyomi 1998– 2016. “The Electronic Text Corpus of Sumerian Literature.” Last modified December 19, 2016. http://etcsl.orinst.ox.ac.uk/. Carroll, Robert P. 1979. When Prophecy Failed. Reactions and Responses to Failure in the Old Testament Prophetic Tradition. London: SCM Press. Cohen, Mark E. 1981. Sumerian Hymnology. The Ersemma. Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press. Cohen, Mark E. 1988. The Canonical Lamentations of Ancient Mesopotamia. Potomac: Capital Decisions Limited.

92

SARAH KÖHLER

Cooper, Jerrold S. 2006. “Genre, Gender, and the Sumerian Lamentation.” Journal of Cuneiform Studies 58: 39–47. Crenshaw, James L. 1971. Prophetic Conflict. Its Effect upon Israelite Religion. Berlin: de Gruyter. Crisholm, Robert 2010. “When Prophecy Appears to Fail, Check Your Hermeneutic.” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 53(3): 561–577. Dalley, Stephanie 2005. “The Language of Destruction and its Interpretation.” Baghdader Mitteilungen 36: 275–285. De Jong, Matthijs J. 2007. Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets. A Comparative Study of the Earliest Stages of the Isaiah Tradition and the Neo-Assyrian Prophecies. Leiden: Brill. De Jong, Matthijs J. 2011. “Why Jeremiah is not among the Prophets. An Analysis of the Terms ‫ נביא‬and ‫ נבאים‬in the Book of Jeremiah.” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 35(4): 483– 510. De Jong, Matthijs J. 2012. “The Fallacy of ‘True and False’ in Prophecy Illustrated by Jer 28:8–9.” Journal of Hebrew Scriptures 12: 1–29. Delnero, Paul 2016. “Literature and Identity in Mesopotamia during the Old Babylonian Period.” In: Problems of Canonicity and Identity Formation in Ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia, edited by Gojko Barjamovic, and Kim Ryholt, 19–50. Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanum Press. Dobbs–Allsopp, Frederick W. 1993. Weep, O Daughter of Zion. A Study of the City–Lament Genre in the Hebrew Bible. Rome: Ed. Pontificio Ist. Biblico. Dobbs–Allsopp, Frederick W. 2000. “Darwinism, Genre Theory, and City Laments.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 120(4): 625–630. Duhm, Bernhard 1901. Das Buch Jeremia. Freiburg im Breisgau: Mohr. Elat, Moshe 1982. “Mesopotamische Kriegsrituale.” Bibliotheca Orientalis 39: 6–26. Fischer, Georg 2005. Jeremia 1–25. Herders Theologischer Kommentar zum Alten Testament 13,1. Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder.

DOOMED PROPHETS

93

Gabbay, Uri 2013. “The Performance of Emesal Prayers within the Regular Temple Cult. Content and Ritual Setting.” In Tempel im Alten Orient. 7. Internationales Colloquium der Deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft, 11.–13. Oktober 2009, München. Colloquien der Deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft 7, edited by Kai Kaniuth, Anne Löhnert, Jared L. Miller, Adelheid Otto, Michael Roaf, and Walther Sallaberger, 103–121. Wiesbaden: HarrassowitzVerlag. Gabbay, Uri 2014. Pacifying the Hearts of the Gods. Sumerian Emesal Prayers of the First Millennium BCE. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz-Verlag. Gabbay, Uri 2015. The Eršema Prayers of the First Millennium BC. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag. Gabbay, Uri 2020. “Defeat Literature in the Cult of the Victorious: Ancient Mesopotamian Sumerian City Laments.” In Culture of Defeat. Submission in Written Sources and the Archaeological Record of the Ancient Near East, edited by Katharina Streit and Marianne Grohmann, 121–138. Piscataway: Gorgias Press Hibbard, J. Todd 2011. “True and False Prophecy: Jeremiah’s Revision of Deuteronomy.” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 35(3): 339–358. Holladay, William L. 1966. “Jeremiah and Moses. Further Observations.” Journal of Biblical Literature 85: 17–27. Holladay, William L. 1986. Jeremiah. A Commentary on the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah 1: Chapters 1–25. Philadelphia: Fortress Press. Hossfeld, Frank L., and Ivo Meyer 1973. Prophet gegen Prophet. Eine Analyse der alttestamentlichen Texte zum Thema: Wahre und falsche Propheten. Fribourg: Verlag Schweizerisches Kath. Bibelwerk. Jassen, Alex P. 2008. “Prophets and Prophecy in the Qumran Community.” Association for Jewish Studies Review 32(2): 299–334. Jeremias, Jörg 1997. “‘Wahre’ und ‘Falsche’ Prophetie im Alten Testament. Entwicklungslinien eines Grundsatzkonfliktes.” Theologische Beiträge 28: 343–349. Krecher, Joachim 1983. “Klagelied.” In Reallexikon der Assyriologie 6, edited by Erich Ebeling, Otto Dietz, and Ernst F. Weidner, 1–6. Berlin: de Gruyter.

94

SARAH KÖHLER

Köhler, Sarah 2017. Jeremia – Fürbitter oder Kläger? Eine religionsgeschichtliche Studie zur Fürbitte und Klage im Jeremiabuch. Berlin: de Gruyter. Kratz, Reinhard G. 2004. “Das Neue in der Prophetie des Alten Testaments.” In Das Alte Testament und die Kultur der Moderne. Beiträge des Symposiums ‘Das Alte Testament und die Kultur der Moderne’ anlässlich des 100. Geburtstags Gerhard von Rads (1901 – 1971), Heidelberg, 18.–21. Oktober 2001, edited by Magne Saebø, Paul D. Hanson, Bernd Janowski, and Michael Welker, 1–22. Münster: Lit-Verlag. Lange, Armin 2002. Vom prophetischen Wort zur prophetischen Tradition. Studien zur Traditions– und Redaktionsgeschichte innerprophetischer Konflikte in der Hebräischen Bibel. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Levin, Christoph 1981. “Noch einmal: die Anfänge des Propheten Jeremia.” Vetus Testamentum 31: 428–440. Levin, Christoph 1985. Die Verheißung des neuen Bundes in ihrem theologiegeschichtlichen Zusammenhang ausgelegt. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Levin, Christoph 2004. “Das Wort Jahwes an Jeremia. Zur ältesten Redaktion der jeremianischen Sammlung.” Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche 101: 257–280. Löhnert, Anne. 2009. ‘Wie die Sonne tritt heraus!’ Eine Klage zum Auszug Enlils mit einer Untersuchung zu Komposition und Tradition sumerischer Klagelieder in altbabylonischer Zeit. Münster: Ugarit–Verlag. Löhnert, Anne 2014. “Was reden die da? Sumerisch und Emesal zwischen Alltag und Sakralität.” Welt des Orients 44: 190–212. Ludwig, Marie-Christine 2009. Literarische Texte aus Ur: Kollationen und Kommentare zu UET 6/1–2. Berlin: de Gruyter. McKane, William 1986. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Jeremiah. Edinburgh: Clark. Meyer, Ivo 1977. Jeremia und die falschen Propheten. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Michalowski, Piotr 1989. The Lamentation over the Destruction of Sumer and Ur. Mesopotamian Civilizations 1. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns.

DOOMED PROPHETS

95

Münderlein, Gerhard 1979. Kriterien wahrer und falscher Prophetie: Entstehung und Bedeutung im Alten Testament. Bern: Lang. Nissinen, Martti 1996. “Falsche Propheten in neuassyrischer und deuteronomistischer Darstellung.” In Das Deuteronomium und seine Querbeziehungen, edited by Timo Veijola 172–195. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Pohlmann, Karl-Friedrich 1978. Studien zum Jeremiabuch. Ein Beitrag zur Frage nach der Entstehung des Jeremiabuches. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Pohlmann, Karl–Friedrich 1989. Die Ferne Gottes. Studien zum Jeremiabuch. Berlin: de Gruyter. Quell, Gottfried 1952. Wahre und falsche Propheten. Versuch einer Interpretation. Gütersloh: Bertelsmann. Rad, Gerhard von 1933. “Die falschen Propheten.” Zeitschrift für Alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 51: 109–120. Rawlinson, Henry C. and Theophilus G. Pinches 1891. The Cuneiform Inscriptions of Western Asia, Vol. IV: A Selection from the Miscellaneous Inscriptions of Assyria. London: Bowler. Samet, Nili 2014. The Lamentation over the Destruction of Ur. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns. Samet, Nili 2016. “Reading Literary Texts Historically: The Sumerian City Laments as a Test Case.” Shnaton 24: 151–166. Schmid, Konrad 1996. Buchgestalten des Jeremiabuches. Untersuchungen zur Redaktions– und Rezeptionsgeschichte von Jer 30–33 im Kontext des Buches. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag. Seitz, Christopher R. 1989. “The Prophet Moses and the Canonical Shape of Jeremiah.” Zeitschrift für Alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 101: 3–27. Shehata, Dahlia 2009. Musiker und ihr vokales Repertoire. Untersuchungen zu Inhalt und Organisation von Musikerberufen und Liedgattungen in altbabylonischer Zeit. Göttingen: Universitätsverlag Göttingen. Thureau-Dangin, François 1922. Tablettes d’Uruk: à l’usagedes prêtres du Temple d’Anu au temps des Séleucides. Textes cuneiforms 6. Paris: Paul Geuthner. Tiemeyer, Lena-Sofia 2009. “The Priests and the Temple Cult in the Book of Jeremiah.” In Prophecy in the Book of Jeremiah, edited

96

SARAH KÖHLER

by Reinhard Gregor Kratz and Hans Barstadt, 233–264. Berlin: de Gruyter. Uehlinger, Christoph 1997. “Qohelet im Horizont mesopotamischer, levantinischer und ägyptischer Weisheitsliteratur der persischen und hellenistischen Zeit.” In Das Buch Kohelet. Studien zur Struktur, Geschichte, Rezeption und Theologie, edited by Ludger Schwienhorst-Schönberger, 123–154. Berlin: de Gruyter. Wanke, Gunther 1995. Jeremia. Teilband 1: Jer 1,1–25,14. Zürich: Theologischer Verlag. Wischnowsky, Marc 2001. Tochter Zion. Aufnahme und Überwindung der Stadtklage in den Prophetenschriften des Alten Testaments. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag. Vacín, Ludek 2017. “News on the Ur Lament.” Archiv Orientalni 85: 461–478.

LOST THE BATTLE? THREE CASE STUDIES OF MILITARY DEFEAT: REWRITE HISTORY AND CLAIM YOU WON THE WAR, IGNORE THE DEFEAT AND CONSOLIDATE POWER, OR PRAY TO GOD DANʾEL KAHN ABSTRACT In this article I analyse three historically and chronologically related accounts of defeat in battle, and the losing side’s response to these defeats. The battles all occurred within three decades of each other: The biblical account of Sennacherib’s defeat at Jerusalem in 701 BCE; the Assyrian defeat at the borders of Egypt in 673 BCE; and Taharqa’s defeat in Egypt by the Assyrians in 671 BCE. The main protagonists were Hezekiah, king of Judah, Sennacherib and Esarhaddon, kings of Assyria, and Taharqa, king of Egypt and Kush, who fought for control over the southern Levant and Egypt, and lost. The descriptions of these events were recorded in several sources, from different genres and different kingdoms, but were all written relatively close to the events they depict.

1. T HE CONFLICT BETWEEN ASSYRIA AND JUDAH IN 701 BCE: AN ASSYRIAN VICTORY One of the most well-studied episodes in biblical history, the archaeology of Israel, and the history of the Neo-Assyrian Empire is Sennacherib’s third campaign (to the west), also known as Sennacherib’s campaign against Hezekiah, king of Judah. 97

98

DAN’EL KAHN

According to Assyrian royal inscriptions, Sennacherib launched his third campaign to the west in 701 BCE and reconquered the Levant. He received homage from the submissive rulers of Phoenicia, Philistia, and Transjordan, subdued the rebellious kingdom of Sidon and replaced its fleeing King Luli, conquered Ashkelon and deported its king and his entourage together with the local gods, executed the officials and nobles who had instigated a rebellion in Ekron and reinstated the loyal king. He then claimed victory over the forces of Egypt and Kush, which met the Assyrians in pitched battle at Eltekeh (see Grayson and Novotny 2012, 64–65, text 4, Rassam Cylinder lines 42–45). The Assyrians claimed victory, and regained control of Philistia. Sennacherib then continued his campaign against Judah, devastated the kingdom, and conquered 46 of its towns. Jerusalem was blockaded and eventually surrendered, and Hezekiah paid a heavy tribute (see Grayson and Novotny 2012, 65–66, text 4, Rassam Cylinder, lines 52–56) and remained on his throne. Sennacherib’s third campaign was also depicted in reliefs at his royal palace in Nineveh. The conquest of Lachish was detailed in Room XXXVI, and John M. Russell (1991, 160–164; 1998, 36–39, 219–227, 299–302) and Christoph Uehlinger (2003) have argued that the third campaign was the focus of the decoration in the throneroom because at least three of its episodes were recorded there. The escape of Luli from Sidon is shown, as is the blockade of a city (identified by Uehlinger 2003, 301 as Jerusalem) without any attempt to conquer it by force. Immediately adjoining this scene, and therefore in temporal and geographical proximity and continuity to the other events, are war preparations by the Assyrian army and a pitched battle, most probably against the Egyptian-Kushite army in the next scene. The outcome of the battle is clear. The Assyrians are shown routing the fleeing enemy, which tries to cross a flowing river, possibly hinting at a location near the border of Egypt (Tadmor 2011, 65, n. 23). The Assyrian reliefs thus depict the possible pitched battle in conjunction with the blockade of Jerusalem (?). Administrative sources pertaining to the Levant corroborate the Assyrian historical records. Sealings were discovered at Nineveh, the governmental seat of Sennacherib and his successors that relate to payments from western tributaries. One records a shipment of a talent of silver from Judah, and another shipment of a silver talent from

LOST THE BATTLE?

99

Padi, the king of Ekron. The date on the latter sealing equates to 699 BCE, two years after Sennacherib’s third campaign. Further tribute from the west is recorded on an undated receipt on a tablet from Nineveh, in which Ammonites, Moabites and Judeans are listed as having paid the Assyrian king, and the relatively small payment from Judah, ten minas of silver, may reflect the poor state of the kingdom after the 701 BCE campaign (Fales and Postgate 1995, 42, 30, no. 50, no. 33; Cogan 2013, 112–114). An Assyrian record of sale dating to 698 BCE, discovered at Tel Hadid in the province of Samerina, close to the border of the Kingdom of Judah, shows that Assyria maintained firm control over the southern Levant after the battle of 701 BCE (Naʾaman and Zadok 2000). A detailed examination of data from dozens of excavated sites, both urban and rural, reveals that many locations in the Judean Shephelah (e.g., Lachish: Ephʿal 1984; Ussishkin 1982), highlands, and the Beʾer Sheva valley were destroyed at the end of the 8th century BCE, and their populations either died or were exiled. It is commonly accepted that these destructions should be attributed to Sennacherib’s campaign (Vaughn 1999, 19–79; Finkelstein and Naʾaman 2004; Faust 2003; contra Blakely and Hardin 2002). A decline in population (Faust 2003, 169–170) and increased tribute seem to have resulted in a decline of Judah’s state resources and income, perhaps because Sennacherib also partitioned sections of Judah’s territory and gave it to the Philistine rulers of Ashdod, Ekron, Gaza (Grayson and Novotny 2012, 65, text 4, Rassam Cylinder, line 53) and Ashkelon (Luckenbill 1924, 70, line 30). After taking these steps, Sennacherib returned home victorious. Sennacherib’s campaign was recorded in a prophetic story in 2 Kings 18:13–19:37, with an almost parallel version in Isaiah 36–37, though an additional three verses of the narrative (2 Kings 18:14–16) are not included in the Book of Isaiah. The account (2 Kings 18:14– 16), probably composed from a royal Judean chronicle combined with a priestly chronicle, appears to agree with the one in the Assyrian annals, and was probably composed in the immediate aftermath of Sennacherib’s campaign. It clearly describes the devastation of Judah, the capitulation of Hezekiah, and the payment of a vast amount of tribute.

100

DAN’EL KAHN

Remnants of the original attitude of the inhabitants of Jerusalem to the disastrous outcome of Sennacherib’s campaign can be found in the reworked text of 2 Kings 18–19 and Isaiah 36–37 (Kahn 2020, 77-111). Responses to Hezekiah’s requests are disconnected in the current text, and dislocated from their original setting, but they can be found embedded in the redacted one. I propose that God’s answer to the rābšaqê’s blasphemous message is located in the original sources, where He states that the conquest by foreign kingdoms was not ordained by the king of Assyria, who is merely a tool of God (cf. Isaiah 10:15), but is part of His divine plan that was ordained long ago (2 Kings 19:26–27; Isaiah 37:27–28). Isaiah’s request that Hezekiah’s pray for the surviving remnant (2 Kings 19:4; Isaiah 37:4) is not answered by Isaiah’s prayer in the current arrangement of the text, but rather by his prophecy about Sennacherib’s return to Assyria and murder. Based on the intertextual recurrence of motifs and ideas, I isolate Isaiah’s prayer on behalf of the remnant (2 Kings 19:19; Isaiah 37:20) as a prophecy that Jerusalem will not be conquered (and therefore that the remnant will remain safe) but that the king of Assyria would return to his homeland without fighting against the survivors (2 Kings 19:31–32; Isaiah 37:32–33). Finally, a sign is given to prove that the prophecy will be fulfilled: using remnant terminology, the recovery of Judah within three years is promised (2 Kings 19:28–29; Isaiah 37:29–30). It can therefore be suggested that the original narrative (Urtext) was composed during or very shortly after 701 BCE. The remaining inhabitants saw the devastation of Judah’s countryside, but also perceived that Jerusalem was spared and hoped for its recovery within three agricultural years. Their perception of the political situation was adapted to fit the reality of their experience. The Book of Isaiah describes the desolate state of Judah after a conquest, with only Jerusalem, the daughter Zion, “left like a booth in a vineyard, like a shelter in a cucumber field, like a besieged city” (NRSV, Isaiah 1:8). This certainly accords with the political situation of Judah in the aftermath of the events of 701 BCE, as many scholars have noted (e.g. Müller 2012, 80–84; Williamson 2006, 60–61). Sennacherib did not need to return to the Levant to maintain his grip over the area, and Assyrian control over the Levant remained firm until his assassination in 681 BCE. Sennacherib’s third campaign to the Levant seems to have been considered a great success. Assyrian

LOST THE BATTLE?

101

inscriptions and visual art, as well as some biblical passages, claimed victory for the Assyrian king, and archaeological and epigraphic evidence supports this view. 2 Kings 18:14–16 point to the same political reality.

2. THE OUTCOME OF THE 701 BCE EVENTS: AN ALLEGED ASSYRIAN DEFEAT 2.1. The Biblical Account of Sennacherib’s Defeat at Jerusalem in 701 BCE

2 Kings 18:13–19:37, and its almost parallel version in Isaiah 36–37, preserve in their current form a different version of the events, namely a story of Jerusalem’s miraculous deliverance from Sennacherib due to Hezekiah’s piety (the Hezekiah-Sennacherib Narrative): The Angel of God struck down the immense Assyrian army at the gates of Jerusalem, and 185,000 Assyrian soldiers died in a single night. Following this, Sennacherib hastily returned to Assyria, where he was murdered by his sons while worshiping his god (see 2 Kings 18:13–19:37 and Isaiah 36–37). The Assyrian victory was overturned in the biblical narrative, and made into the miraculous delivery of Jerusalem and divine punishment for the Assyrian offender. 2.2. Extra-Biblical Evidence for an Assyrian Defeat in 701 BCE

With this part of the biblical narrative in their minds, some scholars have doubted Assyrian claims of victory, noting that Jerusalem was not conquered and devastated, and that the rebellious King Hezekiah remained in office and was not replaced after Jerusalem capitulated, which could be a sign of Assyrian weakness (e.g. Sweeney 2007, 413). In discussions of the Assyrian description of the events, Hayim Tadmor (2011, 665) and William R. Gallagher (1999, 121–122) have pointed to the fact that the description of the pitched battle lacks certain conventional motifs, which they find suspicious. According to Tadmor, if the battle was a spectacular and unequivocal victory, Sennacherib would have pursued the fleeing Egyptians and perhaps even reached the border of Egypt, or at least Gaza and Raphiah. However, after the battle, Sennacherib turned to Timnah and Eltekeh, belonging to the kingdoms of Ekron and/or Judah. He did not turn the enemies’ injuries into rivers of blood; he did not tread

102

DAN’EL KAHN

on their corpses or pile them up, and no plunder is mentioned. Nor do the prisoners referred to in the record reflect normal fighting divisions – the infantry and bowmen – because the only captives mentioned seem to be elite charioteers and Egyptian princes – the commanders of the enemy and their entourage. The Kushite leaders, who may have escaped the battlefield or not even have taken part in the fighting, are not mentioned. It seems that the battle did not end in great carnage, as did many open field battles, especially those between the two superpowers of the day. Most of the Egyptian forces seem to have escaped the battlefield and returned home safely. It is possible that the Assyrian depiction of events hides a defeat by Egypt. Regardless, Hezekiah did surrender, as described in the Assyrian annals in 2 Kings 18:14–16, and paid a heavy tribute compared to those rebels who submitted before a campaign was directed against them. A large part of the population was deported and the remaining provinces of the land were in ruin. Assyria achieved its goals without decimating the capital of Jerusalem and turning it into a wasteland like most of the Kingdom of Judah, and only vital parts of the land were retained as a functioning province under direct Assyrian control (Berges 2012, 260–262; Cogan 2014, 70–71; Fales 2014, 247–248; contra Evans 2009, 182–183). It is clear that Sennacherib subjugated the Levant, including the Kingdom of Judah, and that Hezekiah was forced to become an Assyrian vassal. Its territories in the Shephelah were torn away and given to neighbouring Philistine kingdoms. So, is it possible to determine what caused the biblical narrative to describe Sennacherib’s campaign against Judah as a colossal Assyrian failure?

3. T HE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND OF THE REWRITTEN VERSION OF SENNACHERIB’S CAMPAIGN AGAINST H EZEKIAH In the rābšaqê’s first speech to Hezekiah’s delegates (2 Kings 18:19–25; Isaiah 36:4–10), he questioned the trust the king had placed in Egyptian military assistance, in Hezekiah’s own cavalry or chariots, and in the support of YHWH. Hezekiah thus asked for Isaiah’s intercessory prayer in order to receive God’s help (2 Kings 19:1–5; Isaiah 37:1–5). In response, Isaiah

LOST THE BATTLE?

103

prophesied that Hezekiah should not fear (‫ )אל תירא‬the words of the rābšaqê. God’s answer conveyed by Isaiah to Hezekiah, rebuking the rābšaqê’s arguments (2 Kings 19:6–7; Isaiah 37:6–7) comes in four stages: “Behold, I myself will put a spirit in him (i.e. Sennacherib),” ‫“ ;ִה ְנ ִני ֹנֵתן בּוֹ רוּ ַח‬He shall hear a rumour,” ‫“ ; ְוָשַׁמע ְשׁמוָּﬠה‬He will return to his own land,” ‫ ; ְוָשׁב ְלַא ְרצוֹ‬and “I will cause him to fall by the sword in his own land,” ‫ ְוִהַפְּלִתּיו ַבֶּח ֶרב ְבַּא ְרצוֹ‬. The prophecy began to be fulfilled as soon as the oracle had been proclaimed: Sennacherib heard about the arrival of Taharqa (biblical Tirhakah), king of Kush; Assyria later suffered a divine disaster as the Angel of God slew its soldiers; and the king of Assyria consequently returned home without success and was murdered in front of his god. These events can be dated to the 680s and 670s BCE. 3.1. The Murder of Sennacherib

The Hezekiah-Sennacherib Narrative reached its climax with the murder of Sennacherib, which serves as divine retribution against an Assyrian blasphemer who had offended God and tried to conquer Jerusalem (2 Kings 19:37; Isaiah 37:38). According to the text in the Books of Kings and Isaiah, YHWH caused Sennacherib’s son(s) (Tammuz 2013) to murder him while he was worshiping his god. The murder of Sennacherib occurred in 681 BCE, 20 years after his campaign, and is described in the Babylonian Chronicle (Parpola 1980) as follows: In the month of Tebeth, the twentieth day, during an insurrection, the son of King Sennacherib of Assyria killed his (father). Sennacherib reigned [twenty-four] years over Assyria. In Assyria, the insurrection lasted from the month of Tebeth, the twentieth day, to the month of Adar, the second day. In the month of Adar, the [twenty]-eighth (?) day, Esarhaddon, his son, ascended the throne of Assyria. (Glassner 2004, 199–201)

The events are also mentioned in 2 Chronicles 32:21, in an inscription of Nabonidus, king of Babylon (Schaudig 2001, 515, 523), and in classical sources (Zawadzki 1990). The description in Kings and Isaiah is by far the most elaborate.

104

DAN’EL KAHN

3.2. Taharqa’s Military Activity in the Levant

The mention of Tirhakah in 2 Kings 19:9 and its parallel in Isaiah 37:9 as king of Kush (‫כּוּשׁ‬-‫ )ִתּ ְרָהָקה ֶמֶלְך‬must correspond to the period between 690–664 BCE, when he ruled Egypt and Kush and was militarily active in the Levant. His reign is commonly divided into two periods: the first decade of his reign, which was generally assumed to have been peaceful (Kitchen 1986, 188*–191*), and blessed with intensive commerce and other contacts with the Phoenician coast (Spalinger 1978, 26–28); and the rest of his reign, which is characterised by conflict with Assyria (Kitchen 1986, 391–393). The political reality in the Levant changed considerably during Sennacherib’s final years. Taharqa ascended the throne of the joint kingdom of Egypt and Kush in 690 BCE. According to the royal inscriptions of Taharqa, the first attested Kushite contacts with the Levant were in his eighth regnal year: In an inscription from the temple of Kawa in Sudan, it is stated that in his eighth regnal year (683 BCE) he donated acacia, juniper, and cedar trees (from the Lebanon) to the temple of Amun (MacAdam 1949, 8, pl. 6: Kawa III, col. 21 [plates] and p. 9 [text]). It is not clear whether he acquired the wood by trade or by force (Naʾaman 2009, 356). In 681 BCE, Taharqa again donated cedar wood and Asiatic copper to the temple and settled Asiatic (MnTy.w stty.w) viticulturists to cultivate the vineyards he planted for the temple (MacAdam 1949, pl. 12: Kawa VI, 18– 21 [plates] and 36, n. 49, 67 [text]; pl. 14: Kawa VII, 4 [plates] and 42 [text]). In the temple of Amun at Karnak, close to the holy of holies, Taharqa’s scribes wrote a personal prayer (Vernus 1975; Kahn 2004, 112–117). In column 16 it is stated that the “Land of Kharu (Canaan)” paid taxes to its sovereign, Egypt (until Canaan was lost): “Let me do it with your (= the God Amun) tribute (inw) of Kharu …” (Vernus 1975, 45–46). Clearly, at some point in time Egypt received tribute from the polities of Kharu. It is not possible to determine which specific period the text refers to, or whether it was decades before Taharqa’s reign or during the 670s BCE, as attested by the aforementioned evidence. During Taharqa’s second regnal decade the conflict was centred in the Levant. In Kawa Inscription III it is stated that the king donated a copper statue of pharaoh smiting his enemies in 683 BCE

LOST THE BATTLE?

105

(MacAdam 1949, pl. 6: Kawa III, 15 [plates]; 8 [text]). In the forecourt of the temple of Kawa, a pair of smiting scenes on the east wall was accompanied by the caption: “He has slaughtered the Libyans (*mH.w). He has restrained the Asiatics (dAir.n=f %ty.w). He has [crushed?] the hill-countries that revolted. He causes them to make the walk of dogs (i.e. be subjugated). The sand-[dweller]s ([Hry].wSa) come – one knows not their place – fearing the king’s ferocity” (Pope 2014a, 120). On the east side of the pinnacle of Gebel Barkal (Sudan) an inscription mentions “[smiting] MnTy.w stty.w” (Kendall 2004, 34), and on the west side is a similar reference to the Tjemeh Libyans. The bound captives labelled on the second pylon at the temple of Sanam include the xAs.wt MHty.w (northern foreign lands) and the *Hn.w (Libyans; Pope 2014b, 265). Clearly stated in the edifice by the sacred lake of Karnak is the wish that the gods will raze the fortresses of Asia (xb.n n.[f] wnwt %tty.w; Parker, Leclant, and Goyon 1979, pl. 24, cols. 4–5). These texts hint at military aspirations in the Levant, but by themselves these statements are not enough to assess any military activity by Taharqa. Nonetheless, the biblical account referring to Taharqa as the possible saviour of Hezekiah’s kingdom can be corroborated by the Egyptian sources, which show the aspirations and activity of the Kushite king in the Levant just prior to Sennacherib’s death (the earliest attested evidence for contacts with the Levant) in 683 BCE. 3.3. The Assyrian Defeat in Egypt in 673 BCE

Finally, Taharqa’s forces defeated those of Assyria, who attempted to invade Egypt in 673 BCE, inflicting on them a colossal defeat. The Babylonian Chronicle mentions an Assyrian expedition to Egypt in the month of Adar of the year 673 BCE, but the Assyrians did not succeed in eliminating the Kushite threat and were defeated: The seventh year: On the fifth day of the month Adar (= March 673 BCE) the army of Assyria was defeated (ina KUR Mi-ṣir) in Egypt (Grayson 1975, 84, Chronicle 1, iv, 16).

106

DAN’EL KAHN

3.4. Possible Late Memories of the Assyrian Defeat: Herodotus, Histories II:141 and Josephus Flavius, Antiquities of the Jews X:19–21

In the second volume of Herodotus’ Histories (§141), he described the debacle suffered by the Assyrian king Sennacherib at the hands of the Egyptians, which led to the miraculous Assyrian defeat. It is possible that this description also reflects Esarhaddon’s disastrous campaign, more than 200 years after the event (Kahn 2014). Josephus Flavius also recorded the story of Sennacherib’s campaign against Judah in his Antiquities of the Jews (X:1–23), in which he paraphrased the biblical narrative and added information from the version presented by Herodotus. As well as these sources, he added additional, garbled information (or an incorrect interpretation of Herodotus) about a prolonged siege by the Assyrian king against Pelusium, in which the siege continued until the Assyrian heard about the advance of Taharqa, who planned to invade the land (territory) of the Assyrians (the Levant). Josephus mentioned this information but corrected Herodotus, stating that it was the king of Assyria, and not of the Arabs, and that it was not on their arrival that the Assyrians where overwhelmed by mice, but during a siege. The arrival of Taharqa is reminiscent of the biblical narrative, though the details differ. Sennacherib returned to Assyria, but it is not stated that he went to Nineveh, since this occurred later in his story. After interpolating the narrative of Herodotus and criticizing its accuracy, Josephus intended to refer to Berossus, but ultimately did not quote him. He then continued to tell the biblical narrative, interpreting the action of the Angel of God to be a plague, and relating the story about the murder of Sennacherib. 3.5. Judean History Rewritten

From the above paragraphs it becomes clear that the Judean author responsible for the Hezekiah-Sennacherib Narrative rewrote the account of what occurred in the 701 BCE debacle between Assyria and Judah, and updated its outcome. He incorporated more recent events – Sennacherib’s murder, the Egyptian involvement in the Levant under Taharqa, and the colossal Assyrian defeat in Egypt – and interpreted them as consequences of Sennacherib’s blasphemy against YHWH in 701 BCE, even though the events occurred two to three decades later. This literary device of updating the historical

LOST THE BATTLE?

107

events after a few decades is not unprecedented, and is also known from Assyrian royal inscriptions.

4. ASSYRIAN POLITICAL REACTION TO THE DEFEAT IN EGYPT IN 673 BCE The Assyrian defeat in Egypt in 673 BCE, which was reported in the Babylonian Chronicle, was not included in official royal inscriptions or the Esarhaddon Chronicle (Grayson 1975, 125, Chronicle 14, 20; see also Spalinger 1974, 300–301), which reference a campaign against Šaamīlē. The report of the failed campaign against Egypt was substituted in the Esarhaddon chronicle with an insignificant campaign in southern Babylonia, which started close to the date on which the battle in Egypt took place. However, suppressing a defeat in inscriptions meant for posterity is one thing; dealing with the clearly-visible consequences of defeat in public is another thing entirely. Following the catastrophic military failure of the 673 BCE campaign to Egypt in the seventh year of his reign, Esarhaddon was forced to consolidate his power and legitimize his rule. Esarhaddon’s scholars and counsellors immediately began to engage in creating the necessary propaganda to legitimise his kingship in face of the military disaster. While the debacle in Egypt was wholly ignored in Esarhaddon’s inscriptions, the magnitude of the political shock and the major impact on the Assyrian consciousness can be felt in the intensive scribal activity of Esarhaddon’s eighth and ninth years. 4.1. Esarhaddon’s Apology

Inscription Nineveh B was composed in 676 BCE and makes no mention of how Esarhaddon dealt with the problem of his legitimacy or the struggle between him and his brothers (Leichty 2011, 26, text 2). The two earliest surviving editions of Prism Nineveh A contain a date with the Elamite month named “Opening of the Door” (pēt bābi), which is equivalent to Duʾūzu, the fourth month of the Mesopotamian year in the eponymy of Atar-ili, governor of Laḫiru, in Esarhaddon’s eighth year (673 BCE). The inscription was composed at least two and a half months, and no more than four months, after the return of the defeated Assyrian army from the battlefield in Egypt (Ephʿal 1983, 99).

108

DAN’EL KAHN

Its first part (Leichty 2011, 11–14; text 1, i 1–ii 11), known as the Apology of Esarhaddon, is devoted to his succession. It tells of his investiture by the great gods of Assyria and his selection by his father, Sennacherib, as the latter’s successor, preferring him over his older brothers. It further describes actions taken by his brothers to thwart Esarhaddon’s succession and that the gods stood by his side, protecting him from his brothers’ machinations and encouraging him not to fear them. It also stresses the fact that the inhabitants of Assyria swore an oath of loyalty to him upon his investiture by his father, Sennacherib. Finally, it describes how Esarhaddon outmanoeuvred his older brothers for the throne. Throughout this part, Esarhaddon’s triple claim of legitimacy is presented as being based on the support of the gods, on his selection by his father, and on the oath of the people of Assyria. The second part (ii 12–iv 77) repeats the description of the episodes reported in Inscription Nineveh B, with a certain amount of reworking and expansion. These elaborations are of technical details. The main episodes portray the settling of inhabitants in the newlyconstructed royal city, Kār Esarhaddon, who were gathered from settlements in the kingdom of Sidon elaborately listed in the prism. The third part (iv 78–v 25) sums up the extent and magnitude of Esarhaddon’s control. The literary style of this part is particularly prominent, and it is rich in poetic imagery. With the sea as a key topos, this part expresses Esarhaddon’s absolute control over the kings and peoples inhabiting the midst of the sea, who regard the sea as refuge and protector, and of others who trust in mountains, clearly hinting at the conquest of Sidon and the capture of its king Abdimilkuti, and Sanduari, king of Kundu and Sissû in Cilicia, and their eventual decapitation. A further section tells of the non-aggression pact between Assyria and the Elamites and Gutians (v 26–33). This was considered quite an accomplishment, worthy of mention among Esarhaddon’s achievements, and can be interpreted as a kind of compensation for his failure in Egypt. In the section describing the construction of the armoury of Nineveh (Leichty 2011, 22–23, text 1: Nineveh A v 40–vi 64; text 2: Nineveh B iv 32–vi 43), an elaborate list was added of the names of the vassals kings who were instrumental in its construction. It ap-

LOST THE BATTLE?

109

pears to have been included in order to demonstrate knowledge of and magical control over those vassals, as if naming the vassals who were loyal in the past would guarantee their loyalty during a dire future. The apology, the elaboration of specific geographic details, the addition of the names of the vassals – among them the loyal vassal Manasseh, king of Judah – and the control over the sea and mountains were propagandistic elements intended to create a sense of total control over the world and its inhabitants, as a result of the legitimacy crisis that arose after the disaster in Egypt. 4.2. Esarhaddon’s Letter to the God Assur

It seems that the problem of Esarhaddon’s legitimacy increased following defeat on the battlefield, and he felt compelled to mete out harsh punishment to those who collaborated with the conspirators. The most elaborate description of the events can be found in the Letter to God (Leichty 2011, 82, text 33): The king of Shubria, the ruler of a small kingdom adjacent to Assyria and Urartu, had broken his loyalty oath to Esarhaddon by refusing to extradite Assyrian fugitives. These fugitives possibly included Arda-Mulissu, Sennacherib’s son who had organized the coup d’état against his father, murdered him, and tried to ascend the throne of Assyria. When his attempt failed, Arda-Mulissu and his accomplices may initially have fled to Shubria, finally receiving asylum in Urartu. Esarhaddon invaded Shubria in response and its king begged for mercy. Esarhaddon rejected his pleas, devastated the land, and conquered Shubria. This occurred about a year after the Egyptian debacle, late in Esarhaddon’s eighth regnal year (673/672 BCE), in the tenth month according to the chronicle of Nabû-nāṣir to Šamaš-šuma-ukīn (Grayson 1975, 84, chronicle 1 iv 19–20) and the twelfth month according to the Esarhaddon Chronicle (Grayson 1975, 127, chronicle 14 lines 24–25), though Esarhaddon himself describes taking the city in the sixth month (Leichty 2011, 82, text 33 ii 3). Shubria was a small kingdom, the conquest of which seems not to have posed any particular challenge to Assyria’s capabilities even after the defeat in Egypt. From a military standpoint, this was a fairly modest achievement. Esarhaddon placed special emphasis on the gods’ assistance in the victory, in order to refute accusations that his defeat in Egypt was the result of

110

DAN’EL KAHN

their abandonment of him (Leichty 2011, 82–83, text 33 ii 5–9). The rapidity with which Esarhaddon turned the army on Shubria after suffering defeat in Egypt suggests that Assyria desperately needed a military victory to restore the image of its invincibility. The swift conquest of the kingdom of Shubria so close to the failure in Egypt achieved three goals: it convinced the peoples of the empire that Assyria’s power had not been impaired as a result of the failed Egyptian campaign; it showed those who might have considered exploiting Assyria’s perceived weakness to throw off their shackles that they would experience the same fate; and it proved that Esarhaddon was still acting with divine support. 4.3. The Loyalty Oath

Another composition is the Loyalty Oath, written on the 18th day of Iyyar during the year in which Nabû-bēl-uṣur was governor of the city of Dur-Sharrukku, which equates to year nine of Esarhaddon (672 BCE), only a few months after the conquest of Shubria and the imposition of Assyrian rule in that land. The oath was intended to ensure that the kingdom would rightfully pass to Ashurbanipal and Šamaš-šuma-ukīn after Esarhaddon’s death. All of these measures reveal a large-scale political-administrative operation embracing the entire Assyrian empire. According to Ashurbanipal’s Prism A, the oath encompassed “the people of Assyria, small and great, from the Upper Sea to the Lower Sea” (Streck 1916, A i 11–22). 4.4. Summarizing Esarhaddon’s Political Measures in the Aftermath of Defeat

The primary aim of Esarhaddon during the period of internal and external instability following his military defeat in Egypt was to reclaim his legitimacy as king of Assyria (and thus the universe), to eliminate his political opponents, and to punish their collaborators. The defeat itself was suppressed and ignored in all official records, but the grave consequences demanded combined military (the campaign against Shubria and its conquest), and propaganda (the Apology) activity. His final move to consolidate power was political and administrative (the Succession Treaty). He appointed heirs to the thrones of Assyria and Babylonia, and bound the entire Assyrian realm with an oath of loyalty. The inscriptions and military and po-

LOST THE BATTLE?

111

litical activities were all conducted over a period of eleven months, between the months of Tammuz in year eight and Iyyar in year nine, which must have been a period of great danger to the stability of his regime.

5. T AHARQA’S REACTION TO THE ASSYRIAN CONQUEST OF EGYPT In 671 BCE Esarhaddon had recovered from his defeat in Egypt, and tried anew to realise his expansionist policy and conquer the land. He mustered his army and marched towards Egypt in Nisan (c. April), and Assyrian forces invaded Egypt during that summer. Three fierce pitched battles were fought in the month of Duʾūzu (Tammuz/June to July). Taharqa’s capital, Memphis, was conquered and sacked, Taharqa was wounded, and his son and brothers were captured (Grayson 1975: chronicle I, rev. col. 4, lines 23–28). Egypt was conquered by the Assyrians and reorganized into provinces controlled by Assyrian-nominated rulers. Egypt soon tried to free itself from Assyrian control and Assyria attempted to suppress pockets of resistance in the Nile Delta. Later, in 667 BCE, Ashurbanipal invaded Egypt for the first time. Taharqa escaped from Memphis and fled south to Thebes. When the Assyrians marched on Thebes, Taharqa retreated to the opposite bank, and eventually lost control over Lower Egypt (Kahn 2006). In 1975, Pascal Vernus reconstructed, collated, and published a text found on a badly-damaged series of blocks that adjoined the barque-sanctuary at Karnak, on the other face of a wall that contained the Annals of Thutmose III (Vernus 1975). The text can be classified as a ‘personal prayer’ (a request for a god’s help after an enemy invasion or defeat in battle). According to Vernus, this inscription should be attributed to Taharqa and reflects the Assyrian advance towards Egypt, and Egypt’s temporary control over the Levant and its loss. The text was dated by Vernus from 677/676 to 674/673 BCE (Vernus 1975). In an earlier article (Kahn 2004), I argued that one more event is described in addition to the lament about Taharqa’s loss of control over the Levant: The text records Taharqa’s defeat and the capture of his crown-prince, Ushanhuru, in 671 BCE, and his request that Amun will guard the lives of his sons and concubines and return

112

DAN’EL KAHN

things to their previous state of affairs. Taharqa first described his favourable relations with Amun, head of the Egyptian pantheon. Amun granted Taharqa rule over Egypt, awarding him Upper and Lower Egypt and causing the people of the land to recognise his sovereignty. However, the prosperous situation did not last. Amun led Taharqa to discover that whatever was promised and granted to him changed. Amun caused someone to enter into a place (the name is not preserved in the text, but possibly the temple of Amun) who did not know what Amun had ordained for Taharqa. Here the text most probably refers to the Assyrians who plundered the temple, without mentioning them by name. According to the theological ideology presented in Taharqa’s prayer, it was Amun who caused the enemy to invade Egypt and desecrate places, either as part of a plan to glorify Taharqa’s accomplishments or because Amun was angry with him. Taharqa asked Amun, his patron god, to enable him to repel the intruders and regain control over the territories lost to Egypt and its people, and renew their loyalty towards him. Taharqa also requested that Amun repulse the evil for him, because one of the reasons for the dire state of affairs was Amun’s disfavour towards him. Taharqa then inquired whether this was caused by his neglect of the cult of Amun, and immediately proposed to offer anything to Amun that might change the situation. An additional text, from the walls of a crypt in the temple of Mut in Thebes, records that Montemhet, the fourth prophet of Amun, mayor of Thebes, and de facto ruler of Upper Egypt, purified, repaired, and renovated the temples of Upper Egypt extensively, and sacrificed to the gods after he repulsed the offenders (probably referring to the Assyrians) (Leclant 1961, 199, 202–203). This text is primarily concerned with cultic renovations and restorations, and the reason for the need to restore and renew is expressed only vaguely.

6. SUMMARY In this article I have described three different attitudes towards defeat in battle, as expressed by three different kingdoms. The initial reaction of the intellectual Judean elite to Judah’s destruction by the Assyrians was to express hope for a swift recovery, within three years, and to describe the dire economic and political situation as closely as possible to reality. They clearly understood the

LOST THE BATTLE?

113

balance of power and did not nurture false hopes of freedom or claims of victory. The change of political circumstances following the murder of Sennacherib, the military involvement of Taharqa in the Levant, and the catastrophic defeat of the Assyrian army in Egypt changed their prospects and raised hopes for freedom, and included of sense of divine retribution: YHWH had punished the blasphemer (the lapse of 20 to 30 years between the Assyrian atrocities and their eventual revenge was downplayed). The Assyrian scribes’ response to the 673 BCE defeat in Egypt was to totally ignore the event. However, using political and military propaganda, Esarhaddon immediately acted to consolidate his rule, to reaffirm his legitimacy by demanding loyalty from all of his subordinates, and by eliminating his rivals. He rebuilt Assyrian military capability, and went on a punitive expedition that was intended not only to rid himself of a competitor, but at the same time to highlight god Assur’s trust in him and illustrate divine support and approval of his rule. The third concerns the Kushite king, Taharqa, who was eventually defeated by Esarhaddon and his heir Ashurbanipal. The surviving Kushite royal text from Karnak does not ignore the defeat, but neither does it rewrite events or hide the magnitude of the disaster. On the contrary, in this unique prayer Taharqa addressed the god Amun and tried to enquire into what went wrong. Was his cultic conduct not satisfactory? Was it part of Amun’s plan to aggrandize his name and achievements by first making him suffer distress and defeat? In any case, Taharqa did not whitewash his failure, but instead tried to get to the bottom of it, without blaming anyone else for his actions. The turbulent times of the 680s to 670s BCE expose us to three different cultures, all having to deal with defeat in battle. The sources were written in close chronological proximity to the events, and therefore illuminate the immediate responses of the losing parties to their defeat. In the case of the biblical narrative about the Assyrian campaign in 701 BCE, we have the opportunity to experience the rewriting of history.

ABBREVIATIONS BM

British Museum

114 NRSV

DAN’EL KAHN New Revised Standard Version (Bible translation)

BIBLIOGRAPHY Ben Zvi, Ehud 1991. “Isaiah 1,4–9.” Scandinavian Journal of the Old Testament 1: 95–111. Berges, Ulrich 2012. The Book of Isaiah: Its Composition and Final Form. Hebrew Bible Monographs 46. Translated by M. C. Lind. Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix. Blakely, Jeffrey A., and James W. Hardin 2002. “Southwestern Judah in the Late Eighth Century B.C.E.” Bulletin of the American Society of Oriental Research 326: 11–64. Childs, Brevard S. 1967. Isaiah and the Assyrian Crisis. Studies in Bible Theology, Second Series 2. London: SCM. Cogan, Mordechai 2013. Bound for Exile: Israelites and Judeans under Imperial Yoke: Documents from Assyria and Babylonia. Jerusalem: Carta. Cogan, Mordechai 2014. “Cross-examining the Assyrian Witnesses to Sennacherib’s Third Campaign: Assessing the Limits of Historical Reconstruction.” In Sennacherib at the Gates of Jerusalem. Story, History and Historiography, edited by Isaac Kalimi and Seth Richardson, 51–74. Culture and History of the Ancient Near East 30. Leiden: Brill. Emerton, John A. 1993. “The Historical Background of Isaiah 1:4–9.” Eretz Israel 24: 34–40. Ephʿal, Israel 1983. “On Warfare and Military Control in the Ancient Near Eastern Empires: A Research Outline,” In History, Historiography, and Interpretation: Studies in Biblical and Cuneiform Literature, edited by Hayim Tadmor and Moshe Weinfeld, 88–106. Jerusalem, Leiden: Magnes Press, Brill. Ephʿal, Israel 1984. “The Assyrian Siege Ramp at Lachish: Military and Lexical Aspects.” Tel Aviv 11: 60–70. Ephʿal, Israel 2014. “Stages and Aims in the Royal Historiography of Esarhaddon.” Orient 49: 51–68. Ephʿal, Israel 2016. “On the Sitz im Leben of Esarhaddon’s ‘Apology’.” Nouvelles Assyriologiques Brèves et Utilitaires 2016(3): 125. Erman, Adolf, and Hermann Grapow 1926–1931. Wörterbuch der ägyptische Sprache. 7 vols. Leipzig: Hinrichs.

LOST THE BATTLE?

115

Evans, Paul S. 2009. The Invasion of Sennacherib in the Book of Kings: A Source-critical and Rhetorical Study of 2 Kings 18–19. Vetus Testamentum Supplements 125. Leiden: Brill. Fales, Frederick M. 2014. “The Road to Judah: 701 B.C.E. in the Context of Sennacherib’s Political-Military Strategy.” In Sennacherib at the Gates of Jerusalem. Story, History and Historiography, edited by Isaac Kalimi and Seth Richardson, 223–248. Culture and History of the Ancient Near East 30. Leiden: Brill. Fales, Frederick M. and John N. Postgate 1995. Imperial Administrative Records II, Provincial Administration and Taxation. State Archives of Assyria 11. Helsinki: Helsinki University Press. Faust, Avraham 2003. “Settlement and Demography in SeventhCentury Judah and the Extent and Intensity of Sennacherib’s Campaign.” Palestine Exploration Quarterly 140(3): 168–194. Fecht, Gerhard 1958. “Zu den Namen ägyptischer Fürsten und Städte in den Annalen des Assurbanipal und der Chronik des Asarhaddon.” Mitteilungen des Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts, Abteilung Kairo 16: 112–119. Finkelstein, Israel and Nadav Naʾaman 2004. “The Judahite Shephelah in the Late 8th and Early 7th Centuries BCE.” Tel Aviv 31: 60–79. Fuchs, Avraham 1998. Die Annalen des Jahres 711 v. Chr. nach Prismenfragmenten aus Ninive und Assur. State Archives of Assyria Studies 8. Helsinki: Helsinki University Press. Fuchs, Avraham 2010. “Gyges, Assurbanipal und Dugdamme/Lygdamis: Absurde Kontakte zwischen Anatolien und Ninive.” in Interkulturalität in der Alten Welt: Vorderasien, Hellas, Ägypten und die vielfältigen Ebenen des Kontakts, edited by Robert Rollinger, Birgit Gufler, Martin Lang, and Irene Madreiter, 409–427. Philippika: Marburger altertumskundliche Abhandlungen 34. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Gallagher, William R. 1999. Sennacherib’s Campaign to Judah: New Studies. Studies in the History and Culture of the Ancient Near East 18. Boston: Brill. Glassner, Jean-Jacques 2004. Mesopotamian Chronicles. Writings from the Ancient World 19. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature.

116

DAN’EL KAHN

Goossens, Godefroy 1947. “Taharqa le conqueránt.” Chronique d’Egypte 22: 239–244. Grayson, A. Kirk 1975. Assyrian and Babylonian Chronicles (ABC). Texts from Cuneiform Sources 5. Locust Valley, NY: J. J. Augustin. Grayson, A. Kirk and Jamie Novotny 2012. The Royal Inscriptions of Sennacherib, King of Assyria (704–681 BC). Part 1. The Royal Inscriptions of the Neo-Assyrian Period 3/1. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Greenberg, Moshe 1982. “Prayer.” In Encyclopaedia Biblica 8, edited by Benjamin Mazar, 898–904. Jerusalem: Bialik. (Hebrew). Jansen-Winkeln, Karl 2009. Inschriften der Spätzeit. Teil III: Die 25. Dynastie. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Kahn, Danʾel 2004. “Taharqa, King of Kush and the Assyrians.” Journal of the Society for the Study of Egyptian Antiquities 31: 109–128. Kahn, Danʾel 2006. “The Assyrian Invasions of Egypt (673–663 B.C.) and the Final Expulsion of the Kushites.” Studien zur altägyptischen Kultur 34: 251–267. Kahn, Danʾel 2014. “The War of Sennacherib against Egypt as Described in Herodotus II 141.” Journal of Ancient Egyptian Interconnections 6(2): 23–33. Kahn, Danʾel 2017. “An Update of the Hezekiah-Sennacherib Narrative during the Babylonian Siege? Some More Thoughts.” In “Now It Happened in Those Days”: Studies in Biblical, Assyrian, and Other Ancient Near Eastern Historiography Presented to Mordechai Cogan on His 75th Birthday, edited by Amitai Baruchi-Unna, Tova L. Forti, Shmuel Ahituv, Israel Ephʾal, and Jeffrey H. Tigay, 137–148. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Kahn, Danʾel 2020. Sennacherib’s Campaign against Judah: Isaiah 36–37: A Source Analysis. The Society for Old Testament Study Monograph Series. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Kahn, Danʾel and Oded Tammuz 2009. “Egypt is Difficult to Enter (Strabo, Geography, 17.1.21): Invading Egypt – A Game Plan (7th–4th Centuries BCE).” Journal for the Study of Egyptian Antiquities 35: 37–66. Kendall, Timothy 2004. “The Monument of Taharqa on Gebel Barkal.” In Neueste Feldforschungen im Sudan und in Eritrea:

LOST THE BATTLE?

117

Akten des Symposiums vom 13. bis 14. Oktober 1999 in Berlin, edited by Steffen Wenig, 1–45. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Knapp Andrew 2016. “The Sitz im Leben of Esarhaddon’s Apology.” Journal of Cuneiform Studies 68: 181–195. Kitchen, Kenneth A. 1979. Ramesside Inscriptions: Historical and Biographical II. Oxford: Blackwell. Kitchen, Kenneth A. 1986. The Third Intermediate Period in Egypt. 2nd ed. Warminster: Aris and Phillips. Lauinger, Jacob 2012. “Esarhaddon’s Succession Treaty at Tell Tayinat: Text and Commentary.” Journal of Cuneiform Studies 64: 87–123. Leclant, Jean 1961. Montuemhat: quatrième prophète d’Amon, prince de la ville. Bibliothèque d’étude 35. Cairo: Institut français d’archéologie orientale. Leichty, Erle V. 2011. The Royal Inscriptions of Esarhaddon. The Royal Inscriptions of the Neo-Assyrian Period 4, Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Liverani, Mario 1990. Prestige and Interest: International Relations in the Near East ca.1600–1100 B.C. Padova: Sargon. Luckenbill, Daniel D. 1924. The Annals of Sennacherib. Oriental Institute Publications 2. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. MacAdam, M. F. Laming 1949. The Temples of Kawa I. The Inscriptions. London: Oxford University Press. Müller, Reinhard 2012. Ausgebliebene Einsicht: Jesajas “Verstockungsauftrag” (Jes 6, 9–11) und die judäische Politik am Ende des 8. Jahrhunderts. Biblisch-Theologische Studien 124. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener. Naʾaman, Nadav 2009. “Ashkelon Under the Assyrian Empire.” In Exploring the Longue Dureé: Essays in Honor of Lawrence E. Stager, edited by J. David Schloen, 351–359. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Naʾaman, Nadav and Ran Zadok 2000. “Assyrian Deportations to the Province of Samerina in the Light of Two Cuneiform Tablets from Tel Hadid.” Tel Aviv 27:159–188. Onasch, Hans-Ulrich 1994. Die assyrischen Eroberungen Ägyptens, Teil I: Kommentar und Anmerkungen. Ägypten und Altes Testament 27. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz.

118

DAN’EL KAHN

Parker, Richard A., Jean Leclant, and Jean-Claude Goyon 1979. The Edifice of Taharqa by the Sacred Lake of Karnak. Brown Egyptological Studies 8. Providence, RI: Brown University Press. Parpola, Simo 1980. “The Murderer of Sennacherib.” In Death in Mesopotamia. XXVIe Rencontre Assyriologique Internationale, edited by Bendt Alster, 171–182. Mesopotamia 8. Copenhagen: Akademisk Forlag. Parpola, Simo and Kazuko Watanabe 1988. Neo-Assyrian Treaties and Loyalty Oaths. State Archives of Assyria 2. Helsinki: Helsinki University Press. Pope, Jeremy 2014a. “Beyond the Broken Reed: Kushite Intervention and the Limits of l’histoire événementielle.” In Sennacherib at the Gates of Jerusalem. Story, History, and Historiography, edited by Isaac Kalimi and Seth Richardson, 105–160. Culture and History of the Ancient Near East 71. Leiden: Brill. Pope, Jeremy 2014b. The Double Kingdom Under Taharqo: Studies in the History of Kush and Egypt, c. 690–664 BC. Culture and History of the Ancient Near East 69. Leiden: Brill. Porter, Bertha and Rosalind L. Moss 1951. Topographical Bibliography of Ancient Egyptian Hieroglyphic Texts, Reliefs, and Paintings VII: Nubia, the Deserts, and Outside Egypt. Oxford: Griffith Institute, Ashmolean Museum. Russell, John M. 1991. Sennacherib’s Palace without Rival at Nineveh. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Russell, John M. 1998. The Final Sack of Nineveh: The Discovery, Documentation, and Destruction of King Sennacherib’s Throne Room at Nineveh, Iraq. New Haven, CN: Yale University Press. Schaudig, Hans-Peter 2001. Die Inschriften Nabonids von Babylon und Kyros des Großen samt den in ihrem Umfeld entstandenen Tendenzschriften: Textausgabe und Grammatik. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 256. Münster: Ugarit. Spalinger, Anthony J. 1974. “Esarhaddon and Egypt: An Analysis of the First Invasion of Egypt.” Orientalia 43: 295–326. Spalinger, Anthony J. 1978. “The Foreign Policy of Egypt Preceding the Assyrian Conquest.” Chronique d’Egypte 53: 22–47.

LOST THE BATTLE?

119

Stade, Bernhard 1886. “Miscellen. 16. Anmerkungen zu 2 Kö. 15–21. Zu 18, 13–19, 37.” Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 4: 172–186. Streck, Maximilian 1916. Assurbanipal und die letzten assyrischen Könige bis zum Untergange Ninivehs. Leipzig: Hinrichs. Sweeney, Marvin A. 2007. I & II Kings. A Commentary. Old Testament Library. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press. Tadmor, Hayim 2011. “Sennacherib’s Campaign to Judah: Historical and Historiographical Considerations.” In “With My Many Chariots I Have Gone up the Heights of Mountains”: Historical and Literary Studies on Ancient Mesopotamia and Israel, edited by Mordechai Cogan, 653–675. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society. Tammuz, Oded 2013. “Punishing a Dead Villain: The Biblical Accounts on the Murder of Sennacherib.” Biblische Notizen 157: 101–106. Theis, Christoffer 2014. “Noch ein Namensspiel in der Bibel? Zum Namen ‫ תרהקה‬in 2 Kön 19,9 und Jes 37,9.” Biblische Notizen 162: 67–74. Uehlinger, Christoph 2003. “Clio in a World of Pictures: Another Look at the Lachish Reliefs from Sennacherib’s Southwest Palace at Nineveh.” In ‘Like a Bird in a Cage’: The Invasion of Sennacherib in 701 BCE, edited by Lester L. Grabbe, 221–305. Journal for the Study of the Old Testament: Supplement Series 363. European Seminar in Historical Methodology 4. London: Sheffield Academic Press. Ussishkin, David 1982. The Conquest of Lachish by Sennacherib. Publications of the Institute of Archaeology 6. Tel Aviv: The Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University. Vaughn, Andrew G. 1999. Theology, History, and Archaeology in the Chroniclers Account of Hezekiah. Archaeology and Biblical Studies 4. Atlanta: Scholars Press. Vernus, Pascal 1975. “Inscriptions de la troisième période intermédiaire (I).” Bulletin de l’Institut français d’archéologie orientale 75: 1–66. Warburton, David A. 1997. State and Economy in Ancient Egypt: Fiscal Vocabulary of the New Kingdom. Fribourg: University Press.

120

DAN’EL KAHN

Williamson, Hugh G. M. 2006. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Isaiah 1–5. London: Bloomsbury. Zawadzki, Stefan 1990. “Oriental and Greek Tradition about the Death of Sennacherib.” State Archives of Assyria Bulletin 4(1): 69–72.

DEFEAT LITERATURE IN THE CULT OF THE VICTORIOUS: ANCIENT MESOPOTAMIAN SUMERIAN CITY LAMENTS URI GABBAY ABSTRACT Laments over the destruction of temples and cities were part of the regular cult in temples throughout Mesopotamia from at least 2000 BCE until the beginning of the Common Era. What is the significance of emphasizing defeat on a regular basis? This article will demonstrate that these laments should not be taken literally as literary reflections of actual historical destructions and defeats. Rather, they should be examined through their theology, as means of emphasizing the powerful and destructive power of the deities, who should be calmed in cult so that such destruction and defeat do not occur in the future.

1. SUMERIAN LAMENTS ON DESTROYED CITIES: A LARGE CORPUS OF DEFEAT LITERATURE? The rich literary corpus of Sumerian lamentations from ancient Mesopotamia would seem to be a promising avenue for investigating the presence of a ‘culture of defeat’ in the ancient world.1 Thousands of tablets containing such laments were found all over Mesopotamia, from the Assyrian cities of Assur, Nineveh, and Huzirina (Sultante1 For the idea of a ‘culture of defeat’, see Schivelbusch 2003; Ginio 2016.

121

122

URI GABBAY

pe) in the north, to Ur and Larsa in the south, and from Mari and Terqa in the west to Susa in the east. These tablets date from the early 2nd millennium up to the 1st century BCE, at the very end of cuneiform culture. They contain dramatic descriptions of plundered cities and defiled temples, and of the lamenting and mourning evoked by their destruction. In this article, I will investigate these laments vis-à-vis their historical, ideological, and cultic context, and discuss the difficulty of interpreting them as literature produced by a culture of defeat. I will argue that rather than dwelling on a historical defeat, these laments eventually became a mechanism attempting to avoid it.

2. TWO GENRES OF SUMERIAN LAMENTS: LITERARY AND CULTIC The corpus of laments is traditionally divided in Assyriological research into two groups: (1) city laments, also known as literary laments; and (2) cultic laments, also known as ritual or liturgical laments.2 2.1. City Laments

The first group, the city laments, includes five Sumerian compositions: the Ur Lament (Samet 2014), the Lament over Sumer and Ur (Michalowski 1989), the Eridu Lament (Green 1978), the Uruk Lament (Green 1984), and the Nippur Lament (Tinney 1996); a sixth composition, namely the Curse of Akkad (Cooper 1983), is often associated with them. These laments were written in a mixture of the main Sumerian dialect and the Emesal register of the language.3 The city laments are known from approximately 250 tablets and fragments dating to the Old Babylonian period (c. 1800–1600 BCE); the Curse of Akkad is attested even earlier. The texts, like other Sumerian literature of the period, mainly stem from the city of Nippur but were found in other cities as well, such as Ur, Larsa, and Sippar. For general surveys containing further references, see Hallo 1995; Cohen 1988, 33–39; Löhnert 2009, 8; 2011; Gabbay 2014, 13–14; Samet 2014, 1–3. 3 See Samet 2014, 2; Tinney 1996, 22. For Emesal, see Schretter 1990; Whittaker 2002 (with previous literature). 2

DEFEAT LITERATURE IN THE CULT OF THE VICTORIOUS 123 There is no external evidence for their performance (for the internal evidence, see Samet 2014, 9–12, and below), and the motivations for writing them, as in the case of other Sumerian literature of the period, were pedagogical and scholarly, as well as ideological (Tinney 1996, 84; 2011, 583). The literary content of these laments is rich with vivid descriptions of destruction and mourning. The following lines from the sixth section of the Ur Lament are typical of the genre: In all its (= the city’s) streets that were accustomed to promenades, corpses were piled. In the places where dances of the land had taken place, people were stacked in heaps. The land’s blood filled the ditches like copper and tin. Its corpses, like sheep fat left in the sun, of themselves melted away … He who stood up to the weapon, by the weapon was crushed – the people moan, He who ran away from it was stirred by the storm – the people moan. The weak and the strong of Ur, both perished in famine, Old women and old men who could not leave the house were consumed by fire. Little ones lying in their mother’s bosom, like fish were carried off by the waters … The city they (= the enemies) made into ruins – the people moan. Its lady cries: ‘Alas, my city!’ cries: ‘Alas, my house!’ Ningal (= the goddess of Ur) cries: ‘Alas, my city!’ cries: ‘Alas, my house!’ (Samet 2014, 66–67: 215–218, 225–229, 246–248)

In some cases, especially in the Ur Lament and the Lamentation over the Destruction of Sumer and Ur, the poems refer to an actual historical destruction that occurred at the fall of the Third Dynasty of Ur (c. the 21st century BCE), mentioning kings and enemies by name (Samet 2014, 5). For example, a passage from the first section of the Lamentation over Sumer and Ur lists the results of the destruction of Ur: That its (i.e., Ur’s) people should no longer dwell in their quarters, that they should be given over (to live) in an inimical place, That (the soldiers of) Šimaški and Elam, the enemy, should

124

URI GABBAY dwell in their place, That its shepherd (i.e., the king) should be captured by the enemy, all alone, That Ibbi-Sin should be taken to the land of Elam in fetters, That from the mountain Zabu, which is on the edge of the sea, to the borders of Anšan, Like a swallow that has flown from its house, he should not return to his city! (Michalowski 1989, 38–39: 32–37, with slight modifications according to ETCSL)

This passage is a literary description of events that are probably very close to the historical circumstances in which the Third Dynasty of Ur collapsed; it names the actual enemy lands that attacked the city, and the king during whose reign the dynasty fell, Ibbi-Sin. With the exception of the Lamentation over Sumer and Ur, the city laments end with a description of a figure, either King IšmeDagan of the Isin Dynasty that followed the Ur Dynasty (as in the Uruk Lament and the Nippur Lament), or an unnamed person (as in the Ur Lament and the Eridu Lament) participating in a ritual that commemorates the destruction. Some of the compositions also include a celebration of the newly-rebuilt cities and temples, and seek to appease the god and secure his mercy so that such destruction may not occur again (Samet 2014, 10–11). For example, the address to Nanna, the moon-god and god of the city of Ur, at the end of the Ur Lament, reads thus: From distant days, when the land was founded, O Nanna, the humble men who laid hold of your feet, Have brought to you their lamentations over the silenced house … In your city that has been made into ruins, may a wailing be set up to you, O Nanna, may your restored city be resplendent before you. Like the bright stars, may it never be destroyed … The man of prayer utters a supplication to you, O Nanna, you who have mercy on the land … May your heart relent toward that man who utters supplications, After you look favourably upon that man standing in prayer … May those people, those who suffered the evil-bearing storm,

DEFEAT LITERATURE IN THE CULT OF THE VICTORIOUS 125 appear pure before you, For the sake of those dwelling in the midst of the land, may he bow down to you, O Nanna, in your restored city may you be praised! (Samet 2014, 76–77: 418–436)

It is possible that these or similar laments were indeed recited and performed during ceremonies celebrating the restoration of cities or temples, perhaps in the presence of the king. Such performances, however, were probably unique events, and later the laments themselves were confined to the literary realm and not performed in ritual contexts (Samet 2014, 9–12). 2.2. Cultic Laments

The second group, the cultic laments, consists of several hundred compositions preserved on about 1500–2000 tablets dating from the beginning of the 2nd millennium up to the end of the 1st millennium BCE.4 They were written mostly in the Emesal register of the Sumerian language. In the 1st millennium BCE they were often accompanied by Akkadian translations. These compositions are sometimes considered to be of lesser literary quality than the city laments, and they are characterized by long, repetitive litanies.5 The opening lines of a cultic lament of the goddess Inana, where she is described as crying over her destroyed city and temples, contain one such litany:6 She of the destroyed city says ‘Oh! My city!’ The lady, she of the destroyed city says ‘Oh! My city!’ Hierodule of heaven, the goddess Gašanana (= Inana), she of the destroyed city (says ‘Oh! My city!’) Major studies on this genre include the following: Krecher 1966; Kutscher 1975; Cohen 1974, 1981, 1988; Maul 1988; Volk 1989; Black 1991; Maul 2005; Löhnert 2009; Gabbay 2014, 2015; Shibata, forthcoming. 5 See Vanstiphout 1986, 8–9 (cited below, §5), and note the sarcastic remark by Cooper (2006, 43): “[W]e tend to think of … the city laments as real literature, but consider most ritual laments just plain boring.” 6 These lines appear on a tablet from late Achaemenid or Seleucid Uruk, but other parts of the composition are known from the early 2nd millennium BCE. 4

126

URI GABBAY Destroyer of the mountain, lady of the Eana temple, (she of the destroyed city says ‘Oh! My city!’) She who causes the heavens to rumble, the lady of the Ĝipar shrine, (she of the destroyed city says ‘Oh! My city!’) She who causes earth to shake, lady of the Eana temple, (she of the destroyed city says ‘Oh! My city!’) Lila-ena, lady of the cattle pen and sheepfold, (she of the destroyed city says ‘Oh! My city!’) Mother of the House, the goddess Dada, the beautiful woman, (she of the destroyed city says ‘Oh! My city!’) The goddess Nanaya, your firstborn, (she of the destroyed city says ‘Oh! My city!’) She says ‘Oh! My city!’ She says ‘Oh! My House!’ She says ‘Oh! My mother!’ She says ‘Oh! My child!’ (Cohen 1988, 651, 662: 1–9)

Such long litanies are characteristic of many cultic laments; the sequences of deities or place names they contain vary according to the god to whom the lament is directed (Gabbay 2014, 38–58). Litanies appear also in the final sections of the cultic laments, which almost always end with a section asking that the raging god be appeased and that the destruction described earlier in the lament, caused by the rage of the god or goddess, not be repeated. For example, the ending of a cultic lament to Marduk asks for the appeasement of the god: May (the god) An (= Heaven) pacify you! May Earth calm you! Alas, lord! May An calm you! Hero Asarluḫi (= Marduk)! May An calm you! May your beloved spouse, Panun-anki (= the goddess Zarpanītu), say a prayer to you! May your faithful vizier, Muzeba-sa’a (= the god Nabû), say a prayer to you! May the daughter-in-law, firstborn of the god Uraš, say a prayer to you! May the faithful princess, Gašan-guteša-siga (= the goddess Tašmētu), say a prayer to you! May the great princess, My-lady, the goddess Nanaya, say a prayer to you!

DEFEAT LITERATURE IN THE CULT OF THE VICTORIOUS 127 ‘Do not abandon your city!’ may they (each) say to you! May they (each) say a prayer to you! ‘How long? Do not abandon Tintir (= Babylon)!’ may they (each) say to you! May they (each) say a prayer to you! (Gabbay 2015, 26–29: 30–39)

In this and similar sections that end the cultic laments, various gods are asked to serve as mediators on behalf of humans, and to calm Marduk down so that he does not again bring destruction on his city Babylon by abandoning it in his rage. Unlike the city laments, the cultic laments were not part of the scholarly curriculum (Tinney 2011, 584–598; Delnero 2015); they were not confined to a literary or scribal setting, and indeed that was probably not the main context for their use. Many sources attest to the performance of these laments during the regular temple cult as well as during special calendrical and non-calendrical cultic events in various cities of Mesopotamia, and during different periods.7 Thus, the main context of these laments was ritual and performative, rather than literary and curricular. Because of their dominant place in cult, and because they usually end with pleas for the pacification of the divine heart, these laments are often referred to as prayers, emphasizing their religious and cultic setting rather than their literary genre (Gabbay 2014, 16).

3. LITERARY REFLECTIONS OF ACTUAL HISTORICAL DEFEATS? The first group of Sumerian laments, namely, the city laments, are traditionally understood, on various levels, as literary reflections of a catastrophic historical event, namely the fall of the Third Dynasty of Ur at the end of the 21st century BCE.8 Taking an extreme position on the relationship between the texts and history, Herman Vanstiphout (1980) interpreted the laments literally, reading the lit7 For some surveys, with references

to other bibliographical items and sources, see Krecher 1966, 26–27; Cohen 1988, 14–33; Löhnert 2009, 55–61; Gabbay 2014, 155–192. 8 See recently the discussion and references by Samet 2014, 5–9.

128

URI GABBAY

erary descriptions of destruction as indications of an actual historical reality. Other scholars have been more cautious, treating these laments in their literary and ideological contexts (Michalowski 1989, 9; Tinney 1996, 7–8; Samet 2014, 7–10). Whatever the relationship between the events described in the city laments and reality, taken at face value the corpus would seem to qualify as literature produced by a culture of defeat. The picture is more complex, however, even when the city laments are viewed as literary reflections of an historical reality. The concluding episode of these laments usually portrays a figure in the restored city – in some of the compositions, the king – pleading before the gods that such a destruction should not occur again (see §2 above). This episode may have echoed a cultic reality (Tinney 1996, 23–24; Samet 2014, 9–12). Thus, even if the literature reflects a defeat, it is written from, or is at least combined with, the point of view of people who did not themselves experience the defeat, and were even able to overcome it (Michalowski 1989, 4–8; Samet 2014, 5–9; Tinney 1996, 44–46). Thus, even if we take the descriptions of destruction as literary reflections of a historical defeat, and even if we assume that they were written by the defeated who transferred to the literary realm their catastrophic experiences, the city laments as we encounter them have gone through an additional redactional process during the succeeding Dynasty of Isin (c. 20th–19th centuries BCE). In that redactional process, the reflections on defeat have been combined with the ideology of the new – and at the time of redaction, undefeated – dynasty, which was able to overcome this destruction (or at least portrayed itself as having done so) and which identified itself with the Third Dynasty of Ur prior to its destruction. Why, then, were descriptions of destruction incorporated into a composition that exhibits the royal ideology of the Isin Dynasty? On the one hand, mention of the destruction of the Third Dynasty of Ur emphasizes the significance of the restoration achieved under the Isin Dynasty, as well as the ideology of this dynasty (Tinney 1996, 44–46; Samet 2014, 5–9). On the other, the enumeration of disasters serves as a reminder to the gods of the horrific consequences of such destruction for the gods themselves, since it is their temples that are ruined and their cults that are interrupted. And it is hoped that this reminder will ensure that the gods will not bring such a catastrophe

DEFEAT LITERATURE IN THE CULT OF THE VICTORIOUS 129 again. Indeed, since the destruction was caused by divine rage, at the end of the lament a figure – at times explicitly identified as the king – pleads for the pacification of the divine heart to prevent a future destruction (Samet 2014, 9–12; see §2 above).

4. HOW TO EXPLAIN THE CASE OF CULTIC LAMENTS? As discussed above, although it is problematic to take the literary content of the city laments at face value, they can still be closely associated both with an actual historical defeat – the destruction of Ur and its dynasty – and with the royal ideology of the succeeding Isin dynasty, under which the city laments were written, or at least redacted. But how should we treat the second, larger corpus of Sumerian laments, namely the cultic laments? These laments are known not only from tablets contemporary to the city laments of the first half of the 2nd millennium BCE, but also from tablets dating to about 1500 years later! The literary content of these laments cannot be anchored in any specific historical reality, and thus it is difficult to understand what they represent. Indeed, as will be shown below (§5), the phenomenon of the cultic laments has caused much uneasiness in modern research. I will try to demonstrate that this uneasiness is not justified (§7), but in the meantime it is worth recalling that in the case of the city laments discussed above (§2.1; §3), their significance is not merely historical or political-ideological, but also theological: they remind the gods of the catastrophe they have brought through their rage, and ask them to remain calm so that such destruction is not repeated. As we have seen above (§2.2), almost all of the cultic laments end with a similar plea to the gods, and in my view this is actually the most significant part of both the city laments and the cultic laments.

5. T HE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN CITY LAMENTS AND CULTIC LAMENTS: T HE TRADITIONAL VIEW What is the relationship between the city laments and the cultic laments? Turning first to the city laments, we have a genre of high literary quality that can be related to history and political ideology, and also has the theological function of pacifying the hearts of the gods. Turning to the cultic laments, we have a genre of mechanical and

130

URI GABBAY

repetitive laments, detached from any historical reality, with a similar theological function. In modern Assyriological research, which usually focuses on history and literature, the relationship between these two genres was obvious: the historical and literary laments were written first, and the cultic laments were a secondary development. This was how Vanstiphout (1986) analyzed the evolution of the genre of laments, tracing a decline in historical focus within the genre of city laments itself. According to him, the Ur Lament and the Lamentation over Sumer and Ur reflect the initial literary reaction to the historical fall of Ur; the Eridu Lament and the Uruk Lament, however, are more detached from this historical reality, while the Nippur Lament dedicates much space (about half of the composition) to an ideological programme celebrating the restoration of the city by Išme-Dagan and praising the king himself. According to Vanstiphout, the cultic laments mark the last phase in the shift away from history, since these laments were used in cult and contain no literary reflections of actual destructions. This is explicitly (and judgmentally) stated by Vanstiphout as follows: The ‘real’ historical lament ceases to be written, while many of the formal characteristics of the genre are taken over by the liturgical laments. This by the way also illustrates an almost sociological point: the form as such ceases to be a purely literary entity by being degraded to consumer, or even throw-away, texts (Vanstiphout 1986, 8–9).

6. T HE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN CITY LAMENTS AND CULTIC LAMENTS: RECENT PERSPECTIVES While it is true that the Ur Lament and the Lamentation over Sumer and Ur indeed seem to be more concerned with the historical details of the fall of Ur, and while it is also true that the Nippur Lament emphasizes the restoration by Išme-Dagan, the paradigm presented by Vanstiphout, where the literary is assumed to precede the cultic (see §5), has been criticized in recent years. Most scholars today do not assume that the city laments necessarily predated the cultic laments (Tinney 1996, 51–52). Indeed, as noted by J. Cooper, the evidence points in the opposite direction. Even though there are no tablets containing cultic laments from the 3rd millennium BCE, their

DEFEAT LITERATURE IN THE CULT OF THE VICTORIOUS

131

performance is mentioned in various texts from this period, suggesting that the cultic laments were in use before the literary city laments were composed (Cooper 2006; cf. Samet 2014, 2–3). The city laments, therefore, should be seen as literary compositions written a few generations after the historical events they describe and shaped by royal ideology, but nevertheless grounded in a genre of laments used mainly in cult.

7. DEFEAT LITERATURE AS THE LITURGY AND T HEOLOGY OF THE VICTORIOUS How should one explain this somewhat counterintuitive development from the cultic use of the laments to their literary and historical form? When one examines the laments through their theological focus, and not through their literary and historical focuses, this development becomes clear. As we have seen above (§§ 3–4), the theological role of laments was to serve as reminders of disaster – whether real or potential – whose purpose was to calm the god and avoid future catastrophe. Of course, the devastation described in the laments had antecedents in historical instances of war, famine, destruction, and temple desecration. These phenomena were part of life in many periods, and people lived in continuous fear of experiencing them again. The destruction they feared was understood to be the result of divine rage; therefore, in cult, after mentioning the horrible consequences of this rage, the laments ask the god to calm down (Löhnert 2011), and this is actually the most important part of these laments. Thus, this interpretation of the evidence tends to indicate that the primary focus of both the city laments and the cultic laments was theological; their literary depictions of destruction are relatively dehistoricised, especially in the case of the cultic laments.9 Although my approach to the laments emphasizes cultic and theological aspects instead of historical and literary ones, it is important not to disregard their historical elements. As seen above (§ 2.1, § 3), the city laments, especially the Ur Lament and the Lamentation over Sumer and Ur, were written not long after the fall of the historical Third Dynasty of Ur, and even though they drew on an existing genre and literary motifs, and in addi-

9

132

URI GABBAY

In fact, not only is the literary content of the laments detached from historical reality, it is sometimes directly at odds with it. Consider, for example, the mention of the cities of Nippur, Sippar, and Babylon in a description of destruction in a cultic lament found in Sippar: The Merchant (= the god Enlil) has become (hostile, the entire land is defiled)! Towards the city, the Merchant has become (hostile, the entire land is defiled)! O, singer of dirges! (Towards) the shrine (of Nippur) (he has become hostile)! Towards the brickwork of the Ekur temple, the Ki’ur temple, (the great place) (he has become hostile)! Towards the brickwork of the temple of Sippar, (the shrine Ebabbar) (he has become hostile)! Towards the brickwork of Tintir (= Babylon) (he has become hostile)! Towards the brickwork of the Esaĝil temple (he has become hostile)! (Löhnert 2009, 322–323: 1–8)

The litany describes the defilement of Nippur and its Ekur and Ki’ur temples, Sippar and its Ebabbar temple, and Babylon and its Esaĝil temple, due to the hostility of the god Enlil. Given that the tablet on which this litany is written stems from Sippar and dates approximately to the 17th century BCE, one might be tempted to search for the historical circumstances in which the destruction of these cities and desecration of their temples may have occurred.

tion were framed within a royal ideology of renewal, one cannot disregard that they were written in reaction to a great defeat and horrible historical destruction. In fact, although the genre of cultic laments may predate the composition of the city laments, individual compositions within the group of cultic laments were probably influenced by the city laments. A good example can be found in the cultic lament Rise like the Sun; one of its sections describes the potential destruction of the city of Nippur in terms that recall the actual historical destruction of Ur (Löhnert 2009, 166, 170, 260).

DEFEAT LITERATURE IN THE CULT OF THE VICTORIOUS 133 But, as argued earlier, a literary description of destruction need not be rooted in an actual historical one. On the contrary, some of the temples whose destruction is mourned in these laments are the same temples in which the laments were sung and performed as part of the regular temple cult. In other words, this cult was not performed in the ruins of these temples, but rather in the intact (or restored) temples! It is clear that the presence of Sippar and Babylon in such litanies constitutes an addition to a litany earlier focused on Nippur (which itself was probably detached from any historical reality), and when this lament was incorporated into the liturgy of Sippar and Babylon, references to these cities and their temples were added. These allusions to the destruction of cities and temples are thus a reflection of the transmission of the text and the cult in which it was performed, and not recollections of actual destructions. Indeed, the addition of Sippar and Babylon to a litany mourning the destruction of Nippur may actually be attributed to the desire for a thriving or expanding dynasty to promote cult in these cities. The same can be said of lament manuscripts written at other points in history.10

8. MESOPOTAMIAN LAMENTS: LITERATURE OF THE DEFEATED OR VICTORIOUS? In light of the preceding discussion, the use of laments in Mesopotamian cult and literature is a complex matter, and thus the city laments cannot be treated as a straightforward example of defeat literature. The literary descriptions of defeat are detached from their historical contexts, and the literature describing the condition of a defeated dynasty was actually written or adopted by a victorious dynasty; the commemoration of defeat actually serves the royal ideology of those who restored the cities and temples that were destroyed. Yet it is significant that laments describing defeat and destruction hold such an important place in Mesopotamian literature and cult. Even if the laments over the destroyed Third Dynasty of Ur are found in the literature and praise of the kings of Isin, it is wrong to draw a sharp 10 For a detailed study of the connection between names listed in litanies and the historical circumstances in which they were added, see Gabbay 2014, 208– 225.

134

URI GABBAY

distinction between the defeated city of Ur and the victorious city of Isin, since both cities, and their dynasties, shared the same general ideology and culture. Thus, the potential defeat and destruction of Ur at some future point was also a pressing concern (and not simply a historiographic trope) for the kings of Isin. Similar to the case of city laments, descriptions of the destruction of the temples of Mesopotamia – whether historical or potential – within the cultic laments are a reflection of the internalization of the possibility of defeat within the theology of the various cities. Thus, in order to ensure that a dominant society, culture, and political reality would remain in place, ancient Mesopotamian ideology reserved a prominent place for defeat literature, which served as a constant reminder of the need to guard against potential disasters in order to maintain prosperity.

9. LAMENTS AS PART OF AN ‘ANTI-HUBRIS’ IDEOLOGY? The use of defeat literature within the ideology of a ruling victorious entity is an integral part of ancient Mesopotamian religion and selfperception. A similar ideology can be seen in rituals involving the king, especially the New Year’s ritual. According to the New Year’s ritual, preserved in Seleucid tablets from Babylon, the king was stripped of his royal insignia during the New Year’s festival and humiliated by the high priest, who even slapped the face of the ruler. The king prayed and confessed that he had not harmed Babylon and its inhabitants, or its gods and temples. After this, the king was able to wear his insignia again (Linssen 2004, 82, 222–223, 231–232). Although, as demonstrated by Céline Debourse (this volume), it is doubtful whether such a ceremony actually existed historically, and whether such a text was traditional or a late innovation, the general idea of periodically reducing the king to the status of a simple man and even humiliating him before restoring his royal status is rooted in the royal ideology and religion of Mesopotamia. Similar cases can be seen, for instance, in the Bīt-sala’-mê and Bīt-rimki purification rituals (Ambos 2013a; Ambos 2013b). I would like to suggest that in the New Year’s ritual and the purification rituals, as well as in the lamentation texts and rituals, we find a common ideological element that we may perhaps term an

DEFEAT LITERATURE IN THE CULT OF THE VICTORIOUS 135 ‘anti-hubris’ motif. Both the ritual humiliation of the king and the reiteration of the real or imagined destructions of cities serve as reminders that victory, and defeat, are in the hands of the gods, and that defeat may wait just around the corner. They admonish a ruler or dynasty not to succumb to an exaggerated sense of self-esteem, and affirm that the legitimization of kingship, and of the intact city and temple, should be eternally and perpetually sought.

ABBREVIATIONS ETCSL

Electronic Text Corpus of Sumerian Literature (etcsl.orinst.ox.ac.uk)

BIBLIOGRAPHY Ambos, Claus 2013a. Der König im Gefängnis und das Neujahrsfest im Herbst: Mechanismen der Legitimation des babylonischen Herrschers im 1. Jahrtausend v. Chr. und ihre Geschichte. Dresden: Iset. Ambos, Claus 2013b. “Rites of Passage in Ancient Mesopotamia: Changing Status by Moving Through Space: Bīt Rimki and the Ritual of the Substitute King.” In Approaching Rituals in Ancient Cultures. Questioni di rito: Rituali come fonte di conoscenza delle religioni e delle concezioni del mondo nelle culture antiche. Proceedings of the Conference, November 28–30, 2011, Roma, edited by Claus Ambos and Lonrenzo Verderame, 39– 54. Rivista degli Studi Orientali Nuova Serie 86, Supplement 2. Pisa: Fabrizio Serra. Black, Jeremy A. 1991. “Eme-sal Cult Songs and Prayers.” Aula Orientalis 9: 23–36. Cohen, Mark E. 1974. Balag-Compositions: Sumerian Lamentation Liturgies of the Second and First Millennium BC. Sources from the Ancient Near East 1/2. Malibu, CA: Undena. Cohen, Mark E. 1981. Sumerian Hymnology: The Eršemma. Hebrew Union College Annual, Supplements 2. Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College–Jewish Institute of Religion. Cohen, Mark E. 1988. The Canonical Lamentations of Ancient Mesopotamia. Potomac, MD: Capital Decisions. Cooper, Jerrold S. 1983. The Curse of Agade. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.

136

URI GABBAY

Cooper, Jerrold S. 2006. “Genre, Gender and the Sumerian Lamentation.” Journal of Cuneiform Studies 58: 39–47. Debourse, Céline 2020. “A New Hope: The New Year’s Festival Texts as a Cultural Reaction to Defeat.” In Culture of Defeat: Submission in Written Sources and the Archaeological Record, edited by Katharina Streit and Marianne Grohmann, 139–163. Piscataway: Gorgias Press. Delnero, Paul 2015. “Texts and Performance: The Materiality and Function of the Sumerian Liturgical Corpus.” In Texts and Contexts: The Circulation and Transmission of Cuneiform Texts in Social Space, edited by Paul Delnero and Jacob Lauinger, 87–118. Studies in Ancient Near Eastern Records 9. Boston: De Gruyter. Gabbay, Uri 2014. Pacifying the Hearts of the Gods: Sumerian Emesal Prayers of the First Millennium BC. Heidelberger EmesalStudien 1. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Gabbay, Uri 2015. The Eršema Prayers of the First Millennium BC. Heidelberger Emesal-Studien 2. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Ginio, Eyal 2016. The Ottoman Culture of Defeat: The Balkan Wars and Their Aftermath. London: Hurst. Green, Margaret W. 1978. “The Eridu Lament.” Journal of Cuneiform Studies 30: 127–167. Green, Margaret W. 1984. “The Uruk Lament.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 104: 253–279. Hallo, William W. 1995. “Lamentations and Prayers in Sumer and Akkad.” In Civilizations of the Ancient Near East, edited by Jack M. Sasson, 1871–1881. New York: Scribner’s. Krecher, Joachim 1966. Sumerische Kultlyrik. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Kutscher, Raphael 1975. Oh Angry Sea (a-ab-ba hu-luh-ha): The History of a Sumerian Congregational Lament. New Haven: Yale University Press. Linssen, Marc J. H. 2004. The Cults of Uruk and Babylon: The Temple Ritual Texts as Evidence for Hellenistic Cult Practice. Cuneiform Monographs 25. Leiden: Brill. Löhnert, Anne 2009. “Wie die Sonne tritt heraus!” Eine Klage zum Auszug Enlils mit einer Untersuchung zu Komposition und

DEFEAT LITERATURE IN THE CULT OF THE VICTORIOUS 137 Tradition sumerischer Klagelieder in altbabylonischer Zeit. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 365. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag. Löhnert, Anne 2011. “Manipulating the Gods: Lamenting in Context.” In The Oxford Handbook of Cuneiform Culture, edited by Karen Radner and Eleanor Robson, 402–417. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Maul, Stefan M. 1988. “Herzberuhigungsklagen”: Die sumerischakkadischen Eršaḫunga-Gebete. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Maul, Stefan M. 2005. “Bilingual (Sumerian-Akkadian) Hymns from the Seleucid Arsacid Period.” In Literary and Scholastic Texts of the First Millennium B.C., edited by Ira Spar and Wilfred G. Lambert, 11–116. Cuneiform Texts in the Metropolitan Museum of Art 2. New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art. Michalowski, Piotr 1989. The Lamentation over the Destruction of Sumer and Ur. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Samet, Nili 2014. The Lamentation over the Destruction of Ur. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Schivelbusch, Wolfgang 2003. The Culture of Defeat: On National Trauma, Mourning, and Recovery. Translated by Jefferson Chase. New York: Picador. Schretter, Manfred K. 1990. Emesal-Studien: Sprach- und Literaturgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zur Sogenannten Frauensprache des Sumerischen. Innsbruck: Institut für Sprachwissenschaft der Universität Innsbruck. Shibata, Daisuke forthcoming. Die Šu’ila-Gebete im Emesal. Heidelberger Emesal-Studien 3. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Tinney, Steve 1996. The Nippur Lament: Royal Rhetoric and Divine Legitimation in the Reign of Išme-Dagan of Isin (1953–1935 BC). Occasional Publications of the Samuel Noah Kramer Fund 16. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Museum. Tinney, Steve 2011. “Tablets of Schools and Scholars: A Portrait of the Old Babylonian Corpus.” In The Oxford Handbook of Cuneiform Culture, edited by Karen Radner and Eleanor Robson, 577–596. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Vanstiphout, Herman L. J. 1980. “The Death of an Era: The Great Mortality in the Sumerian City Laments.” In Death in Mesopotamia: Papers Read at the XXVIe Rencontre assyriologique in-

138

URI GABBAY

ternationale, edited by Bendt Alster, 83–89. Mesopotamia 8. Copenhagen: Akademisk Forlag. Vanstiphout, Herman L. J. 1986. “Some Thoughts on Genre in Mesopotamian Literature.” In Keilschriftliche Literaturen: Ausgewählte Vorträge der XXXIIe Rencontre assyriologique internationale Münster, 8.–12.7.1985, edited by Karl Hecker and Walter Sommerfeld, 1–11. Berliner Beiträge zum Vorderen Orient 6. Berlin: Reimer. Volk, Konrad 1989. Die Balaĝ-Komposition úru àm-ma-ir-ra-bi: Rekonstruktion und Bearbeitung der Tafel 18 (19ʹff), 19, 20 und 21 der späten, kanonischen Version. Freiburger Altorientalische Studien 18. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag Wiesbaden. Whittaker, Gordon 2002. “Linguistic Anthropology and the Study of Emesal as (a) Women’s Language.” In Sex and Gender in the Ancient Near East: Proceedings of the 47th Rencontre Assyriologique Internationale, Helsinki, July 2–6, 2001, edited by Simo Parpola and Robert M. Whiting, 633–644. Helsinki: NeoAssyrian Text Corpus Project.

A NEW HOPE: THE NEW YEAR’S FESTIVAL TEXTS AS A CULTURAL REACTION TO DEFEAT CÉLINE DEBOURSE ABSTRACT The harshest defeat which the Babylonians of the second half of the 1st millennium BCE had to experience was certainly the ‘End of Archives’ in 484 BCE when Xerxes disturbed the whole socio-cultural stratum of northern Babylonian society, affecting the south to a secondary degree. Hard as it is to grasp the immediate (cultural) reaction to the event, we can rely on the more than a 150 years later Hellenistic sources, which at first sight show a – troubling – unchanged image. The cult, for example, was still observed and the important New Year’s Festival still celebrated, as is shown by the existence of Hellenistic manuscripts of the ritual text. However, upon closer look the New Year’s Festival texts from Hellenistic Babylon are not copies of older originals; to the contrary, they almost certainly are products of the Hellenistic age. But why would one of the most important state rituals in which the king plays a prominent role be reinstated in a time of foreign government? The answer to this question lies in the connection of the New Year’s Festival texts to the so-called ‘Late Babylonian priestly literature’. I wish to argue that this Hellenistic branch of Babylonian literature, including the New Year’s Festival texts, must be interpreted as a cultural response to the defeats of 484 BCE and 331 BCE. 139

140

CÉLINE DEBOURSE

1. INTRODUCTION “Defeat looms large in memory, and thus in history, because it marks rupture and renewal even more obviously than its inescapable twin, victory” (Horne 2008, 11). Defeat comes in many forms, but in the quite recently established field of the cultural history of defeat the focus lies predominantly on defeats in the context of war (Macleod 2008; Schivelbusch 2003). In this light John Horne discerned five types of defeat: temporary defeat, which can be a battle lost, followed by the winning of the war; definitive defeat means losing the war, but maintaining political independence; total defeat, in which the losing side is stripped of its political sovereignty; internal defeat, occurring in a civil war; and partial defeat, which means that the defeated experiences a military and diplomatic setback but retains his political power for a large part (Horne 2008, 11–29). The preceding typology is based on postFrench Revolution wars, but seems to be fitting in an ancient Near Eastern context too. During the 1st millennium BCE the Babylonians experienced only a short time of absolute independence from 612 to 539 BCE (the Neo-Babylonian Empire). However, the conquest by the Persians in 539 BCE did not constitute a real break, as can be gleaned from the quasi-undisturbed continuation of our sources. Apparently, Babylonian society was not greatly affected by the Persian presence, which allows us to consider the ‘long 6th century BCE’ as a whole and to define 539 BCE as only a partial defeat in which the Babylonians retained much of their local autonomy. The harshest blow to Babylonia of the 1st millennium BCE occurred later and is evidenced by the ‘End of Archives’ in 484 BCE. It can be considered an internal defeat because two groups of Babylonians opposed each other during the rebellions: on the one side were the rebelling traditional Babylonian families, who held much local power, on the other were pro-Persian minded Babylonians supported by the government. The latter group prevailed, which led to the disappearance of the former in our documentation (see below). Horne described that in the case of internal defeat “the winner … seeks to deprive the loser of autonomy and to rebuild unity in accordance with their own values. The tendency is thus to seek total defeat” (Horne 2008, 14–15). Hence, the losers of 484 BCE must have

A NEW HOPE

141

experienced the events of that year as the total and heaviest form of defeat. The arrival of the Macedonians in 331 BCE was again only a partial defeat for the Babylonians (as opposed to the total defeat of the Persians). Continuity can be observed in most aspects of daily life (Monerie 2018, 83–127; Oelsner 1986; McEwan 1981), and, what is more, for local institutions the first century of Hellenistic rule was very positive, because the foreign rulers relied heavily on them for local government in exchange for financial favours (see Monerie 2018; Finkel, van der Spek and Pirngruber forthcoming). However, this policy towards the temples seems to have been abandoned when Babylon became a polis (Monerie 2018, 440): the traditional Babylonian temples lost an important source of income and their political power waned. Finally, with the arrival of the Parthians in 141 BCE, another period of political turmoil commenced and we can see that cuneiform production reduced drastically, Babylonian culture slowly disappearing with it (see Clancier 2009, 311 for a visual representation of the reduction of astronomical tablets in Babylon from the Parthian conquest onwards). It is not easy to probe the cultural responses to those different moments and types of defeat. That is certainly due to the fact that for the period after 484 BCE and before 331 BCE sources from which a cultural response to defeat (and Babylonian mentality in general) can be gleaned, are largely absent. Therefore, we have to rely on post331 BCE texts, which are abundantly present – a fact which has led some researchers to speak of a period of renewal or renaissance (van der Speck 1985, 543). This Hellenistic1 material proves nonetheless to be not only a reaction to the regime change of 331 BCE; it is in part related to the events of 484 BCE as well. As is proven throughout history, every form of defeat leaves a lasting imprint on the society, which experiences it (see, most importantly: Schivelbusch 2003). This paper attempts to track down some of those impressions.

In this paper, the term ‘Hellenistic’ refers to a period in time (331–141 BCE), not to ‘as belonging to Hellenism’.

1

142

CÉLINE DEBOURSE

2. 484 BCE AND ITS IMPACT Caroline Waerzeggers noticed a phenomenon recurring in various large archives of 1st millennium BCE northern Babylonia: they all ended in the fourth month of Xerxes’ second regnal year (484 BCE) (Waerzeggers 2003/2004). That phenomenon stands in contrast to archives of the same cities that do continue after that moment in time, as is the case in southern Babylonia too. This distinction can be explained by the fact that the archives, which stopped in 484 BCE, all belonged to “urban elites that had formed around the Babylonian temples by virtue of their privileged and hereditary participation in the cult as prebendaries” (Waerzeggers 2003/2004, 158),2 while the ones that continued were kept by homines novi who profited from their connection to the Persians. The continuation of the southern Babylonian archives is explained by the assumption that the south was not affected to the same degree by the events which led to the northern End of Archives. There was much social unrest in the last regnal years of Darius I and the first years of Xerxes, which is discernible in, for example, the correspondence of Borsippean priests dating to the years before 484 BCE, in which mention is made of the interruption of prebendary income in Ezida by order of a royal official (Jursa 2013). Because of the lack of income, the senders of the letters urged their correspondent to plead their case with the Persians in Susa. To say that the priests and other temple personnel must not have responded very favourably is but an understatement: two uprisings broke out in the same period. The first was led by Bēl-šimânni and probably originated in Borsippa. To his ‘reign’ are dated four tablets by means of which the rebellion can be placed in the fifth and sixth months of the second year of Xerxes. A second rebellion, in which a certain Šamaš-erība seized control of Sippar, Babylon, and later also Kish, started more to the north in the fifth month of the second year of Xerxes. It is unclear whether both rebellions existed 2 With the exception of the Egibi family, who held no prebendary function in the temple, but did stand in connection to the ša-nāšišu-family who occupied the then abolished function of šākin ṭēmi.

A NEW HOPE

143

simultaneously or whether a confrontation between the two took place. In any case, Šamaš-erība only managed to hold power until the beginning of the eighth month. Thirteen tablets are dated to his ‘reign’, from 4–V to 29–VII of the second year of Xerxes. It must be noted that the texts with dates including the rebellions’ leaders’ names – except for a few – originate from the archives, which ended in 484 BCE. Apparently, the Persian government had implemented a reform in the Babylonian temples, discharging the traditional Babylonian aristocracy of their duties – thus taking away their income – and installing new families that were more proPersian-minded than the traditional ones who held much (local) power. For the traditional Babylonian temples and their aristocratic personnel, this meant a total defeat: not only did they have to give up their income, but they lost their political power as well. As history shows, it was not only in Babylonian self-perception that the priests from traditional families were irreplaceable; the economic power of the temples actually waned after 484 BCE and Esagila lost its traditional prebendary system of priestly service (see Hackl 2018). The question is now whether this affected the cult. Some say it did not, since the temple building was not destroyed by Xerxes as has long been believed (Henkelman et al. 2011). However, whether or not Esagila remained intact, its whole socio-economic structure, the primary purpose of which was to maintain the gods, collapsed, a fact which certainly legitimates questions about the continuation of the cult. Most researchers’ view today is that the cult did remain intact, but that it was interrupted for a short time: “Zusammen mit den Rationenlisten, die unsere wichtigste Quellengruppe für das kultische Personal sind, widersprechen sie [Ritualtexte und Astronomische Tagebücher] zudem der Annahme, dass Xerxes das Esangila im Anschluss an die babylonischen Revolten zerstören ließ, obgleich die chronologische Verteilung der Quellen (auch außerhalb des EsagilaArchivs) darauf hindeutet, dass hier aufgrund der im letzten Abschnitt aufgezeigten sozialen Umwälzungen eine zeitliche Unterbrechung des Kults nach diesen Ereignissen nicht auszuschließen ist” (Hackl 2013, 394).

144

CÉLINE DEBOURSE

The assumption that the cult continued to be observed is based on the fact that later Hellenistic texts make mention of rituals and cultic activities in Esagila:3 on the one hand, there are Astronomical Diaries containing notes about offerings and other cultic actions (see Linssen 2004, 84–86 with references); on the other, there are ritual texts which give the instructions for the performance of certain rituals (most recently see Linssen 2004). Furthermore, the use of family names in colophons of scholarly texts in contrast to the disappearance of family names in administrative texts after 484 BCE suggests that in this field the break was less definitive (Kessler 2004, 251–252). Another argument for the continuation of cultic activities is the fact that the archives ending in 484 BCE were all sorted out before being left, and “had the temple been sacked and the cult entirely disrupted, no one would have gone to so much trouble” (Jursa 2007, 91; Waerzeggers and Seire 2018). In this paper, I wish to shed new light on the issue by considering one of the most important rituals in post-Achaemenid Babylon: the New Year’s Festival. The ritual texts describing the first five days of the festival were found in Babylon, and even though the tablets are of Hellenistic date, it has always been assumed that the composition was copied from a much older original (see below). The fact that a century-old manual was still copied at that late date, in combination with historical evidence for cultic activity at the beginning of the year, is considered to be enough proof for the continuation of the cult as in earlier times – as before 484 BCE (Linssen 2004). There is, however, one unavoidable problem: the New Year’s Festival is a state festival in which the king participated. Even though it is accepted that the cult continued to be observed after 484 BCE, the (public) participation of a king who had deprived traditional northern Babylonian families of the core of their sense of identity seems unlikely. In Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian times, the New Year’s Festival was a means for royal legitimation (see below); was this still the purpose of the festival after 484 BCE? Moreover, 3 It is important to note that the End of Archives probably did constitute a break between the Esagila and the temple community in Uruk, see Kessler 2004, 251.

A NEW HOPE

145

there is no evidence for the participation of a king in the New Year’s Festival during the period between the reigns of Cyrus and that of Antiochos III – or any attestation of the festival at all. 4 Questions that need to be asked are whether the New Year’s Festival texts are indeed copies of an original dating to before 484 BCE and if they can be induced as proof for the continued performance of the festival after that date. Thus, instead of searching in, amongst others, historical sources for evidence of the observance of the New Year’s Festival after 484 BCE, it is necessary first to have a closer look at the New Year’s Festival texts themselves. In what follows, I give a short overview of the history of the New Year’s Festival, after which I consider the New Year’s Festival texts from Hellenistic Babylon in detail in attempt to date them. Finally, the texts are placed in their broader textual environment, which sets them in light of the defeats of 484 BCE and 331 BCE.

3. HISTORY OF THE akītu OR N EW YEAR ’S FESTIVAL The akītu-festival knows a long history: its earliest attestation stems from the Fara-period, and the latest reference in Mesopotamia is of Hellenistic date. Over the course of those more than 2000 years the time of celebration, the cultic performance, and the symbolic meaning of the festival changed considerably (for a historical overview, see Cohen 1993, 400–453). Based on administrative sources it seems that the festival originated in pre-Sargonic Ur, where Nanna the moon god was worshipped as city god. The fact that there was an a2-ki-ti of both the first and the seventh month has led Cohen to the suggestion that the festival was connected to the spring and autumn equinoxes (Cohen 1993, 402; this was contested by Hunger 1996, though). Especially during the latter, when night-time became longer than daytime, moon triumphed over sun in the sky, which was then symbolically The participation of Cambyses in the New Year’s Festival is attested in the Nabonidus Chronicle(!) iii 24–28 (Finkel, van der Spek and Pirngruber, forthcoming); that of Antiochos III in the Astronomical Diary no. -204 C, rev. 14–19 (Sachs and Hunger 1989). 4

146

CÉLINE DEBOURSE

re-enacted by a procession to and from the akītu-house. The sending of the moon god to the akītu-house allowed him to re-enter the city in a triumphant procession. At the spring equinox, the same ritual took place, but now rather to counteract reality: in the sky, sun might have been superior over moon, but in Ur, Nanna remained the most important deity in charge of the city. The akītu-festival was adopted by other cities during the Ur IIIperiod, such as Adab, Ešnunna, Sippar and most significantly Nippur. Nippur, as religious center, adopted the ‘a2-ki-ti of Ur’ and adapted it to the local calendar, integrating it into the agricultural cycle: in the fourth month (itišu-numun) they celebrated a2-ki-ti šunumun ‘of the sowing’; in the seventh month (itiše-kin-ku5) a2-ki-ti še-kin-ku5 ‘of the harvest’. Even though the time of celebration and (part of) the festival’s symbolism had been changed, the basic format remained the same: “The statue of the god left the city in fitting procession for temporary residence in the akītu-house, where it received the standard offerings and prayers during its stay. The statue returned to the city in a grand procession, after which the god set in order the administration of his city” (Cohen 1993, 406). In Assyria, a letter from Šamši-Adad I shows that the akītufestival was observed in the Old-Assyrian period (Durand 2000, 112 no. 965). From Assur we have a Middle-Assyrian ritual text describing the procession of Marduk to the akītu-house (VAT 16435, see Köcher 1952, 192–202). Only in Neo-Assyrian times was the ritual adapted for Assur and other important deities of the Assyrian pantheon (for example Ištar of Arbela, and Adad). The festival was added to the capital’s cultic calendar as New Year’s Festival: its celebration was fixed to the first part of the month Nisannu at the beginning of the year and the king played a prominent role in it (Parpola 2017, 40–44, no. 15; Pongratz-Leisten 2015). Important sources for the Neo-Assyrian period are royal correspondence and royal inscriptions (for an overview of the sources, see Zgoll 2006, 72–75). The same image appears in the Neo-Babylonian evidence: kings boast in their inscriptions that they “took Bēl by the hand” and led him into procession to the akītu-house. Details of the ritual performance, however, remain unknown. For the Achaemenid period, sources are overall lacking, but in Hellenistic texts, mentions of the akītu-house and celebrations at the beginning of the year are numer-

A NEW HOPE

147

ous, both for the city of Uruk and for Babylon. From this period stem the only extant manuscripts of the Babylonian ritual text, with different versions from Uruk (first and seventh months) and Babylon (first month only).5 In modern research on the topic, akītu and New Year’s Festival are often used interchangeably. It is important to keep in mind, however, that only from the Neo-Assyrian period onwards one can speak of an actual celebration of the New Year. Aside from that, I chose to use the term ‘New Year’s Festival’ for the ritual described in the texts from Hellenistic Babylon, since it was celebrated at the beginning of the year and the texts are titled according to the day on which it took place (and not as ‘akītu-festival’ or similarly, as is the case in the historical chronicles).

4. T HE N EW YEAR ’S FESTIVAL T EXTS FROM H ELLENISTIC BABYLON The ritual texts from Hellenistic Babylon inform us about day 2 to 6 of the New Year’s Festival to which an unknown day can be added (day 6 or 7) (Linssen 2004, 215–237; George 2000, 263–270).6 This means that information for the next six to five days is lacking, if one assumes that the festival lasted eleven days (Cohen 1993, 453). That problem has been solved by adducing evidence from earlier historical sources, such as royal inscriptions, and contemporary notes concerning the beginning of the month Nisannu in the Astronomical Diaries (see above). All things considered, however, the ritual texts remain the most important sources for the reconstruction of the course of events of the Babylonian New Year’s Festival.7 The Assyrian version of the festival is recorded in Neo-Assyrian ritual texts, see Parpola 2017. Ritual texts provide prescriptions for the ritual performance. 6 Recently, Da Riva and Galetti published two ritual texts relating to events that took place on the first day of Nisannu, obviously connected to the New Year’s Festival. However, it is not entirely clear whether the events described took place in Babylon or Borsippa, since they involve Nabû and Nanaya (and not Bēl and Zarpanītu): Da Riva and Galetti 2018. 7 A full analysis of the New Year’s Festival texts is presented in my Ph.D. dissertation written at the University of Vienna, titled “Of Priests and 5

148

CÉLINE DEBOURSE

In 1921, Thureau-Dangin published the well-known composite text based on the manuscripts DT 15, DT 114, DT 109 and MNB 1848 (Thureau-Dangin 1921, 127–154). Every study of the New Year’s Festival has hitherto been based on that edition, and only two texts have been added: Linssen republished the composite text in 2004 and joined DT 109 to BM 32485 (Linssen 2004, 215–237); and in 2000, George edited BM 41577 which is in both form and content very similar to the composite text edited by Thureau-Dangin and Linssen (George 2000, 260–270). One more Hellenistic tablet is strongly related to the New Year’s Festival texts: BM 32655 is a eulogy for the elder brother which is in form and content linked to the New Year’s Festival (Jursa and Debourse 2017). In the following, I use the term ‘New Year’s Festival texts’ to refer to the six texts mentioned above.8 Generally it is assumed that the New Year’s Festival texts are copies of older originals that were composed in the first half of the 1st millennium BCE. However, this was never firmly established, and a closer look at the texts suggests otherwise. The tablets themselves are Hellenistic, a fact, which was acknowledged already by the texts’ first editor: “Les tablettes … ne sont pas, autant qu’il semble, antérieures à la conquête grecque” (Thureau-Dangin 1921, 1–2). This is confirmed by the tablets’ location in the British Museum – with the exception of tablet MNB 1848 in the Louvre – in collections which consist in majority of late Babylonian texts from the Esagila library (see Clancier 2009, 190–195), which was in active use from ca. 400 (Artaxerxes II) to c. 60 BCE (Joannès 2000, 703). Furthermore, certain signs are written in a typically ‘late’ form,9 for example, MEŠ, AM and BU are very slanted Kings: The Babylonian New Year Festival in the Last Age of Cuneiform Culture” (2020). 8 The concordance of the manuscripts to the composite text published by Linssen is as follows: DT 15 I=1–40, DT 15 II=41–79, DT 15 V=154–187, DT 15 VI=190–216b, DT 114 I=216c–234, DT 114 II=265-279, DT 114 V=434– 440, DT 114 VI=472–478, BM 32485+ I=236–264, BM 32485+ II=286–305, BM 32485+ VI=441–471, MNB 1848 II=259–300, MNB 1848 III=301–343, MNB 1848 IV=344–384, MNB 1848 V=385–428, MNB 1848 u.e.=429–430. 9 I kindly refer the reader to the sign list at labasi.acdh.oeaw.ac.at (last accessed on 6 August 2018) for images.

A NEW HOPE

149

with long tails on the lower wedges; in signs like KU, GIL2 and LU the top horizontal wedge is overall lacking (George 2000, 260). Not only the sign forms are typically late: the scribes sometimes chose certain logograms that are more common in late texts, such as the logogram ME for ūmu ‘day’ (DT 15 VI 1’; MNB 1848 III 38; MNB 1848 IV 23–24; BM 41577 III 23), but also SI to denote ubānu ‘finger’ (as a measure of length) instead of ŠU.SI (DT 15 VI 12’; CAD U 3), and GI3-a for ginâ ‘usual’ (BM 41577 II 13’; MNB 1848 II 19, III 36). At some instances the choice not to use a logogram is surprising, as with ma-ri-šu2 instead of DUMU-šu2 (BM 41577 III 3), or (less uncommon but still rare) ṣab-be2 instead of lu2erin2meš (MNB 1848 V 41). One very rare way of writing is the form iTU5 (irammak), which occurs on two tablets in a paralleled section (BM 32485+ II 5’// MNB 1848 II 28 interlinear). Despite the late dating of the manuscripts, it has always been assumed that the New Year’s Festival texts were composed at a much earlier time. The only attempt at providing a date for the texts’ ‘original’ was made by Pongratz-Leisten, who argued in favour of a date of composition in the early Neo-Assyrian period (9th century BCE) (Pongratz-Leisten 1997). Her argument was based on the use of the word kidinnu (‘privileged status’) in the New Year’s Festival texts; it is a concept which was significant for the policy of Neo-Assyrian rulers towards Babylonian cities, but which lost its importance at the beginning of Achaemenid rule (Reviv 1988; for the survival of the idea of Babylonian privilege in later times, see Ford 2014). Even though this is a solid argument, it does not take into account peculiarities in the New Year’s Festival texts that cannot be explained by the practice of adaptation during the copying process. One thing that speaks against a date of composition in the NeoAssyrian period is the fact that the most important agent of the festival is the aḫu rabû (lu2šeš.gal, ‘elder brother’).10 Firstly, the aḫu rabû is attested as a temple functionary from early in the 1st millennium BCE onwards (Löhnert 2007, 41 n. 26; see also the attestation in the 10 The ritual instructions are given in the third person singular and address the aḫu rabû throughout most of the texts.

150

CÉLINE DEBOURSE

8th century BCE kudurru: VS 1 36), but only in the Hellenistic period does he undeniably play a prominent role in the cult (McEwan 1981, 9–10). In earlier times, he is mentioned in lists as the first of the ēribbītis, ranking right after the šatammu (Waerzeggers 2010, 45–46). He also appears as protagonist or witness in legal texts (especially in Eanna in Uruk: Kümmel 1979, 134–135). Only after the Macedonian conquest is it unmistakably clear that the aḫu rabû occupies a cultic function both in Esagila in Babylon and in the Bīt Reš in Uruk. He appears in cultic ritual texts and in Uruk he is mentioned in colophons as well, often together with the āšipu and the ṭupšar Enūma Anu Enlil (Linssen 2004; McEwan 1981, 9–10). At this time, the aḫu rabû was the most important cultic official in both Uruk and Babylon. Secondly, the New Year’s Festival is considered to be the affirmation of Babylonian kingship par excellence, so one wonders why the king is not its most prominent agent in the texts. Furthermore, it would be remarkable that a barely attested priest (at the commonly supposed time of composition, the Neo-Assyrian period) would perform these important rites, and especially the one involving the slapping of the king raises eyebrows: in the New Year’s Festival texts is described how, when the king enters Esagila, the aḫu rabû takes away his regalia, pulls him by the ears, makes him kneel, and slaps him (twice) (MNB 1848 V 31–43 and BM 32485+ VI 1–12). This contrasts starkly with the idea that we get about the festival from other Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian sources: ritual texts show how the king performs most of the rites (Parpola 2017 no. 15); royal inscriptions demonstrate how crucial the event was for royal ideology and propaganda.11 It is 11 It must be noted that our vision of the New Year’s Festival during the NeoAssyrian and Neo-Babylonian period mainly stems from royal inscriptions and royal correspondence. However, even though this is not the case for the New Year’s Festival itself, other Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian rituals are known which attest to the humiliation of the king as part of royal investiture and legitimation (Ambos 2013). Still, there is a boundary between symbolic humiliation (the removal of regalia, for example) and physical punishment, as is the case here. For a discussion of the royal humiliation in the New Year’s Festival, see Debourse forthcoming. Furthermore, there must have been substantial differences between the Assyrian and Babylonian festival, but since

A NEW HOPE

151

hard to imagine that kings were so enthusiastic about the festival in which they were humiliated and physically mistreated and so is the fact that they remain quiet about their penitence. Is it possible, then, that the Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian kings never underwent such treatment, and that the episode was an innovation and/or addition of later – Hellenistic – times? Another concept that speaks in favour of a late date of composition of the New Year’s Festival texts is that they include specific time indicators. In cultic ritual texts is often stated on which exact day the ritual described was to be performed, but in general there were no further time indications.12 In stark contrast stand the New Year’s Festival texts in which for most ritual sequences the exact time of performance is specified. Not only the fact that the New Year’s Festival texts are very much concerned with time is new. The words which are used to express time and the way in which they are written are more commonly used in later periods too, especially in astronomical texts. The expression ‘x bēr mūši’ (‘at x double-hours of the night’) appears in NeoAssyrian and Neo-Babylonian correspondence (for references, see CAD B 208 A 2 (s.v. bēru)), but is used more frequently in astronomical texts dated to later periods (for references, see Neugebauer 1955, 471 s.v. danna). ‘x bēr ūmu išqâ’, literally “when the day is x double-hours high”, occurs less in Neo-Assyrian sources (for references, see CAD Š/2 19 A 1. a) 2’ a’ (s.v. šaqû)); moreover, the orthography ‘me nima’ is further only known from Hellenistic astronomical texts (for references, see Neugebauer 1955, 486 s.v. nim. Also Thureau-Dangin 1922, 13:35 and 37). In summary, both the use of vocabulary and orthography, and the great concern with specific timthere is no comprehensive study of the Babylonian New Year’s Festival an sich, it remains difficult to assert these differences. For an overview of the sources, see Zgoll 2006, 72–75; Cohen 1993, 400–453. Unfortunately, they do not differentiate between historical and non-historical sources, nor do they divide them by time of composition or provenance. 12 In the Neo-Assyrian state rituals compiled by Parpola, there is only one text which gives a comparable time indication; see Parpola 2017 no. 32 obv. 2 (ina 5/6 danna [ud]me).

152

CÉLINE DEBOURSE

ings, connects the New Year’s Festival texts to late astronomical texts, suggesting that they were written in the same historical context, thus sharing similar ideas and idioms. Some linguistic features might as well be included in the discussion of the New Year’s Festival texts’ date of composition. For example, the texts contain some petrified forms, which are typical for the Late Babylonian language, such as annâ instead of different forms of annû (see also George 2000, 269 note on line iii 22). In addition, there are some further unattested forms and words: the D-form of lapānu only occurs here (mulappinat, ‘she who impoverishes’) (BM 32485+ I 24’ // MNB 1848 II 1; CAD L 81 2), an imperative masculine singular eṣu from aṣû is also exclusive to these texts (MNB 1848 IV 38; expected is iṣi; GAG §106 m; see also GAG §103 n where this form is mentioned); other hapax legomena are gimrētu ‘totality’ (DT 15 I 19), the temple-name e2.u4.ul, (DT 15 I 29, II 26, II 37; BM 32485+ I 7’, I 17’; MNB 1848 IV 32; George 1993 no. 1141) and eršūtu ‘wisdom’ (MNB 1848 III 3; CAD E 318). A rare word is asarru ‘composition’, of which two out of four occurrences stem from the New Year’s Festival texts (BM 41577 III 5, III 21, VI 20’; BM 32655 II 3’; see also Jursa and Debourse 2017, 91 note on lines II 3’–4’). Three general comments must be added to this concise overview. First, it must be noted that overall the New Year’s Festival texts are written in a highly idiomatic language, both in describing the dromena and the legomena: the same words and expressions are often repeated throughout and only at rare instances is that pattern broken. Second, the texts contain some Sumerian and bilingual passages.13 Yet, the Sumerian remains often incomprehensible, and the supposedly Akkadian translation is of no help in clarifying it in most instances (see for example: Oshima 2011, 103). The other extreme occurs as well, since at some instances the Sumerian is (too) simple.14 Third, it must not be forgotten that the texts appear at first sight to They are bilingual in two ways: either a Sumerian line is followed by a supposedly Akkadian ‘translation’, or Akkadian explanations are inserted in Sumerian lines. 14 For example: umun.mu umun.mu.na umun.mu umun.mu.na ‘my lord, the lord is his name, my lord, the lord is his name’ (DT 114 I 6). 13

A NEW HOPE

153

be ‘traditional’ (that is, older) than they are mainly because of both characteristics described above (to some extent, see Oshima 2011, 102–109).

5. T HE N EW YEAR ’S FESTIVAL T EXTS IN THEIR T EXTUAL ENVIRONMENT Based on the above discussion, I submit that the New Year’s Festival texts were composed during the Hellenistic period. This assumption is strengthened by the fact that the texts show obvious links to other textual corpora that originated from Hellenistic Babylon. Above a clear parallel was drawn between the New Year’s Festival texts and late astronomical compositions, both in their use of certain idioms and their concern with time. Now, a link can be made to yet another corpus of texts, the date of composition of which has only recently been set in the Hellenistic period. It concerns the corpus of historical-literary texts that are exclusively known from tablets from Hellenistic Babylon, designated as ‘Late Babylonian priestly literature’ (Jursa and Debourse 2017 and forthcoming). Over the past years, some Assyriologists have convincingly argued that this corpus of historical-literary texts was not transmitted from an earlier period; rather, it is a creation of Hellenistic times, which is partly exhibited by the topoi that the compositions in it share (see, most importantly: Jursa and Debourse 2017 and forthcoming with references; De Breucker 2015; Waerzeggers 2015a). Since the Babylonian priests from Hellenistic Esagila were the authors of this corpus, but also because of the prominent role they play in the (hi)stories, we may speak of a ‘Late Babylonian priestly literature’. The traditional Babylonian priest is portrayed as a hero and made into a martyr; he ensures the continuation of the cult at whatever cost. This concept of placing the Babylonian priests and their work in the spotlight as encountered in the corpus of Late Babylonian priestly literature recurs in the New Year’s Festival texts in which the aḫu rabû is the most important cultic agent: only he knows how to perform the ritual (as is also stated in the so-called Geheimwissen col-

154

CÉLINE DEBOURSE

ophons)15 and he is the one who stands in direct contact with the god.16 The prominence of the priest in the New Year’s Festival is most obvious in a eulogy in which Marduk addresses the aḫu rabû (BM 32655, see Jursa and Debourse 2017). It is a very unusual text because it is pronounced by a god (first person singular), but it is even more remarkable for the fact that the god eulogises a human – the aḫu rabû – in terms which are normally only used the other way around, for the reverence of a god or king by a (normal) human. It furthermore ranks the priest higher than the king, stating: “The king or the governor who strikes your cheek, may a king who is their enemy defeat them”, which exhibits the virtual sacrosanctity of the priest. This line is also reminiscent of the humiliation of the king during the ritual when he is slapped on the cheek (see above). The New Year’s Festival texts describe how the king then pronounces his ‘negative confession’ before Marduk: he denies to have committed any sins against Babylon and its inhabitants. In turn, this ‘negative confession’ reminds one of the motifs which Geert De Breucker found in some historical-literary compositions: “the king who sins and repents” (De Breucker 2015). An example is a passage in the Adadšumu-uṣur epic in which the king confesses his sins to Marduk (Grayson 1975, 56–77). By confessing the bad king is forgiven and becomes good again. The opposition of bad and good government can be embodied by one king or multiple ones, as is the case in the Nabonidus Chronicle (Nabonidus versus Cyrus) (Waerzeggers 2015a). The ambiguous character assigned to the king is an idea found in both the New Year’s Festival texts and the Late Babylonian priestly literature. Another concept of Late Babylonian priestly literature is its concern with the past, as is obvious from the fact that the first corpus For example: “He who reveres Bēl will not show it to anyone, except to the Elder Brother of Eumuša.” DT 15 I 34–35 and BM 41577 II 3–4. For the concept of Geheimwissen colophons, see Lenzi 2008. 16 He even identifies himself to the god as speaker in one of the prayers: anāku aḫu rabû(lu2šeš.gal) e2.umuš.a qābû(e)-u damiqti(sig5)-ku “I am the Elder Brother of Eumuša who speaks well of you.” (BM 32485+ I 10’) 15

A NEW HOPE

155

to be recognised as being part of this late branch of Babylonian literature consists of historical-literary texts. The question is whether this concern with the past can be recognised in the New Year’s Festival texts as well. It can, but in a different manner than in the historicalliterary compositions. The creation of a new ritual text in the Hellenistic period makes (the wish for) the revival or renewal of the New Year’s Festival, which is a millennia-old tradition, apparent; thus the texts show an interest in the past. Moreover, the New Year’s Festival texts seem to be ancient and traditional – though in fact they are not – because both in form and content they are based on older examples. The Sumerian – as nonsensical as it may seem – grants the composition antiquity and authority; some passages reflect copying practices;17 and the form of the prayers adheres to traditional standards too (see: Oshima 2011, 14–22; Abusch 1983). Because the New Year’s Festival texts exhibit the same concerns as the corpus of historical-literary texts from Hellenistic Babylon, and because they are almost certainly Hellenistic compositions, we may view them as Late Babylonian priestly literature too. This places the New Year’s Festival texts in a more confined context of the late 4th to late 2nd centuries BCE Babylonian priestly community in Esagila (for the date of Late Babylonian priestly literature, see Jursa and Debourse 2017).

6. A CULTURAL RESPONSE TO DEFEAT “Anchoring one’s defeat within the tradition of history’s great losers offers both meaning and consolation” (Schivelbusch 2003, 30). The creation of a whole new branch of Babylonian literature in the early Hellenistic period exhibits the input of a huge amount of energy from the side of the Babylonian priests. What was the driving force behind this energy? The answer to this question is twofold. In part it can be connected to the texts’ historical context: 331 BCE was only a partial defeat for the Babylonians, since they did not lose more than what they already had lost to the Persians. It can even be argued that the Babylonians did not experience 331 BCE as a de17 As is also witnessed by the use of the older suffix -ka in some instances.

156

CÉLINE DEBOURSE

feat, but rather saw it as a new chance – a small victory. As mentioned above the early Hellenistic period was an age of renewed royal interest and euergetism in the temple (Monerie 2018). This provided not only economic means, but also an ideological motive to the Babylonian community: Late Babylonian priestly literature attests to the fact that they grabbed that new chance with both hands. Its typical topics of the kings’ good or bad behaviour and the priests’ importance read as a manual for rulership and may in part have been written as a ‘mirror of princes’ for the Seleucid ruler. The fact that Berossus, a Babylonian, wrote his Babyloniaca in Greek, and the fact that there is evidence for the presence of Babylonian scholars at the Seleucid court, show that “pertinent channels of communication were demonstrably present” (Jursa and Debourse 2017, 87). This renewed interaction with the government led the Babylonians also to reconsider and secure their position in society. Not only did they need to manifest themselves as a group of importance, they felt the need to persuade themselves of their unity and importance too. This late literature is both the means for and the product of that endeavour. It helped establish “community bonds and group identity” (Waerzeggers 2015a, 119), as the creation of new texts required the search for a shared past and in turn helped to make that past visible. On the other hand, since Late Babylonian priestly literature was so strongly connected to the Babylonian community’s past – aside from concerns of their own Hellenistic time – it is unthinkable that its authors did not draw on the events of 484 BCE, the total defeat that lay nearest in time to them. Still, there does not seem to be even one explicit reference to Xerxes and the events that led to the disappearance of certain Babylonian families from our sources (Waerzeggers 2015b). What we do encounter in this late literature though, are accounts of events that happened much earlier but which are very reminiscent of what we know about 484 BCE. The Elamite invasion at the end of the Kassite period for instance was a popular source of inspiration (De Breucker 2015, 82–83). During that episode of Mesopotamian history the Elamite king Šutruk-naḫḫunte had conquered Babylon and put his son Kutirnaḫḫunte on the throne. The Elamites took many objects as booty from Babylon to Susa, most famously the stele of the Codex Hammurabi, but also the cult statue of Marduk. Because of that statue’s

A NEW HOPE

157

absence, the cult of Esagila was interrupted. Later Nebuchadnezzar I gained power over Babylon and reconquered the statue of Marduk, the return of which enabled the cult to continue (see also Nielsen 2018). Yet, we know that ‘Elam’ was in later periods often used to refer to Persia (Waerzeggers 2015a, 104), which leads one to suggest that the priests of Hellenistic Esagila associated the events of 484 BCE with the Elamite invasion (Waerzeggers 2015b). Another parallel between 484 BCE and a historical event recounted in Late Babylonian priestly literature is found in the Adadšumu-uṣur epic (Grayson 1975, no. 6, 56-77), which tells the story of how Adad-šumu-uṣur came to the throne in Kassite Babylon by inciting rebellions against the Assyrian puppet-king. In 484 BCE as well, rebellions against a sovereign who was considered a terrible ruler took place, but those were, in contrast to the ones in the epic, unsuccessful. Why did the authors of these texts not refer directly to the events of 484 BCE, but only through allusions and analogies? Does the fact that many stories of Late Babylonian priestly literature call to mind what Xerxes did, actually show how the Babylonians tried to cope with the total defeat which their community had experienced back then? The new chance given by Hellenistic rule enabled them to distance themselves from the events of 484 BCE; as such, those events no longer touched their present, but became part of their past. By creating these new texts, they anchored their defeat of 484 BCE within the tradition of history’s great losers, which offered them both meaning and consolation (Schivelbusch 2003, 30). In the case of the New Year’s Festival texts in particular, the Babylonian priests reverted to a millennia-old tradition, which had certainly in the centuries before 484 BCE been of crucial importance to the royal ideology. By changing the role played by the king in the ritual and especially with the introduction of the humiliation and ‘negative confession’ of the king, they retaliated against Xerxes and his successors who had disrupted the cult. Most probably, this (part of the) ritual as described in the New Year’s Festival texts never actually did take place – which does not mean that there was no cultic celebration of the New Year. Lastly, the changed role of the king in the ritual fits in with the fact that there was no native Babylonian on the throne. This has been

158

CÉLINE DEBOURSE

discussed by Jonathan Smith, who considers the New Year’s Festival as we know it from the Hellenistic ritual texts to be a means for rectification. By performing the ritual, the Babylonians ensured their wellbeing: “the Babylonian Akitu festival … [is] best described neither in terms of repetition of the past nor of future fulfillment, but rather in terms of a difficult and incongruous present; … this incongruity is surprising in the light of past precedents – but it may only be addressed, worked with, and perhaps even overcome in terms of these same precedents. [It is an] attempt at rectification” (Smith 1976, 19). To conclude, the New Year’s Festival texts, being part of Late Babylonian priestly literature, prove to be a cultural reaction to two different moments and forms of defeat. They attest to the fact that the Babylonian priests tried and to some degree managed to cope with their threatened position in the new society of post-331 BCE Babylonia. The renewed royal interest provided the right socioeconomic and ideological framework to finally process and in part overcome the defeat of 484 BCE.18 The New Year’s Festival texts are an expression of new hopes and ambitions for the present and the future. At least in these new texts, the glory of the Babylonian priests, cult and temple was brighter than ever.

ABBREVIATIONS BM CAD DT GAG MNB VAT VS

British Museum The Assyrian Dictionary of the University of Chicago Daily-Telegraph Collection (British Museum) von Soden 1995 Musées Nationaux B Collection (Musée du Louvre) Vorderasiatische Abteilung. Texte (Vorderasiatisches Museum Berlin) Delitzsch 1907

Note, however, that many manuscripts of texts pertaining to the corpus of Late Babylonian priestly literature can be dated to the late 2nd century BCE and should perhaps be read in light of another crisis, namely the Parthian invasion. 18

A NEW HOPE

159

BIBLIOGRAPHY Abusch, Tzvi 1983. “The Form and Meaning of a Babylonian Prayer to Marduk.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 103(1): 3– 15. Ambos, Claus 2013. Der König im Gefängnis und das Neujahrsfest im Herbst. Mechanismen der Legitimation des babylonischen Herrschers im 1. Jahrtausend v. Chr. und ihre Geschichte. Dresden: Islet Verlag. Debourse, Céline forthcoming. “Debita Reverentia: Understanding Royal Humiliation in the New Year’s Festival Texts.” Kaskal 16. De Breucker, Geert 2015. “Heroes and Sinners: Babylonian Kings in Cuneiform Historiography of the Persian and Hellenistic Periods.” In Political Memory in and after the Persian Empire, edited by Jason Silverman and Caroline Waerzeggers, 75–94. Atlanta: SBL Press. Clancier, Philippe 2009. Les bibliothèques en Babylonie dans la deuxième moitié du Ier millénaire av. J.-C. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 363. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag Cohen, Mark E. 1993. The Cultic Calendars of the Ancient Near East. Bethesda: CDL Press. Da Riva, Rocío and Gianluca Galetti 2018. “Two Temple Rituals from Babylon.” Journal of Cuneiform Studies 70: 189-227. Delitzsch, Friedrich 1907. Vorderasiatische Schriftdenkmäler der Königlichen Museen zu Berlin. Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs. Durand, Jean-Marie 2000. Les documents épistolaires du palais de Mari. Volume 3. Paris: Éditions du Cerf. Finkel, Irving, Robartus van der Spak, and Reinhard Pirngruber forthcoming. Babylonian Chronographic Texts from the Hellenistic Period. Writings of the Ancient World. Atlanta, GA: SBL Press. Ford, James Nathan 2014. “The Ancient Mesopotamian Motif of kidinnu, ‘Divine Protection (of Temple Cities and Their Citizens)’, in Akkadian and Aramaic Magic.” In Encounters by the Rivers of Babylon. Scholarly Conversations between Jews, Iranians and Babylonians in Antiquity, edited by Uri Gabbay and Shai Secunda, 271–283. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. George, Andrew 1993. House Most High: The Temples of Ancient Mesopotamia. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns.

160

CÉLINE DEBOURSE

George, Andrew 2000. “Four Temple Rituals from Babylon.” In Wisdom, Gods and Literature: Studies in Assyriology in Honour of W. G. Lambert, edited by Andrew George and Irving Finkel, 259–299. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Grayson, Albert K. 1975. Babylonian Historical-literary Texts. Toronto: University of Toronto Press. Hackl, Johannes 2018. “The Esangila Temple during the Late Achaemenid Period and the Impact of Xerxes’ Reprisals on the Northern Babylonian Temple Households.” In Xerxes and Babylonia. The Cuneiform Evidence, edited by Caroline Waerzeggers and Maarja Seire, 165–188. Leuven: Peeters. Henkelman, Wouter, Amélie Kuhrt, Robert Rollinger and Josef Wiesehöfer 2011. “Herodotus and Babylon Reconsidered.” In Herodot und das Persische Weltreich/Herodotus and the Persian Empire, edited by Robert Rollinger, Brigitte Truschnegg and Reinhold Bichler, 449–470. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Horne, John 2008. “Defeat and Memory in Modern History.” In Defeat and Memory: Cultural Histories of Military Defeat in the Modern Era, edited by Jenny Macleod, 11–29. New York, NY: Palgrave MacMillan. Hunger, Hermann 1996. “Review of: The Cultic Calendars of the Ancient Near East, by Mark Cohen.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 116(4): 776–777. Joannès, Francis 2000. “De Babylone à Sumer: le parcours intellectuel des lettrés de la Babylonie récente.” Revue Historique 316: 693–717. Jursa, Michael 2007. “The Transition of Babylonia from the NeoBabylonian Empire to Achaemenid Rule.” In Regime Change in the Ancient Near East and Egypt: From Sargon of Agade to Saddam Hussein, edited by Harriet Crawford, 73–94. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Jursa, Michael 2013. “Epistolographic Evidence for Trips to Susa by Borsippean Priests and for the Crisis in Borsippa at the Beginning of Xerxes’ Reign.” Arta 2013(3): 1–12. Jursa, Michael and Céline Debourse forthcoming. “Late Babylonian Priestly Literature from Babylon.” In Stones, Tablets, and Scrolls, edited by Peter Dubovský and Federico Giuntoli, 253–281. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck.

A NEW HOPE

161

Jursa, Michael and Céline Debourse 2017. “A Babylonian Priestly Martyr, a King-like Priest, and the Nature of Late Babylonian Priestly Literature.” Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes 107: 77–98. Kessler, Karlheinz 2004. “Urukäische Familien versus babylonische Familien: die Namengebung in Uruk, die Degradierung der Kulte von Eanna und der Aufstieg des Gottes Anu.” Altorientalische Forschungen 31: 237–262. Köcher, Franz 1952. “Ein mittelassyrisches Ritualfragment zum Neujahrsfest.” Zeitschrift für Assyriologie 50: 192–202. Kümmel, Heinrich M. 1979. Familie, Beruf und Amt im spätbabylonischen Uruk: prosopographische Untersuchungen zu Berufsgruppen des 6. Jahrhunderts v. Chr. in Uruk. Berlin: Mann. Lenzi, Alan 2008. Secrecy and the Gods. Secret Knowledge in Ancient Mesopotamia and Biblical Israel. State Archives of Assyria Studies 19. Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project. Linssen, Marc 2004. The Cults of Uruk and Babylon. The Temple Ritual Texts as Evidence for Hellenistic Cult Practice. Cuneiform Monographs 25. Leiden, Boston: Brill, Styx. Löhnert, Anne 2007. “The Installation of Priests according to NeoAssyrian documents.” State Archives of Assyria Bulletin 16: 273–286. Macleod, Jenny 2008. Defeat and Memory: Cultural Histories of Military Defeat in the Modern Era. New York, NY: Palgrave MacMillan. McEwan, Gilbert 1981. Priest and Temple in Hellenistic Babylonia. Wiesbaden: Steiner. Monerie, Julien 2018. L’économie de la Babylonie à l’époque hellénistique. Berlin: de Gruyter. Neugebauer, Otto 1955. Astronomical Cuneiform Texts. Babylonian Ephemerides of the Seleucid Period for the Motion of the Sun, the Moon and the Planets. Berlin: Springer Verlag. Nielsen, John P. 2018. The Reign of Nebuchadnezzar I in History and Historical Memory. London: Routledge. Oelsner, Joachim 1986. Materialien zur babylonischen Gesellschaft und Kultur in hellenistischer Zeit. Budapest: Eös Lorand Tudomanyegyetem.

162

CÉLINE DEBOURSE

Oshima, Takayoshi 2011. Babylonian Prayers to Marduk. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Parpola, Simo 2017. Assyrian Royal Rituals and Cultic Texts. State Archives of Assyria 20. Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project. Pongratz-Leisten, Beate 1997. “Das ‘negative’ Sündenbekenntnis des Königs anläßlich des babylonischen Neujahrsfestes und die kidinnūtu von Babylon.” In Schuld, Gewissen und Person. Studien zur Geschichte des inneren Menschen, edited by Jan Assmann, Henning Wrogemann, and Theo Sundermeier, 83–101. Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus. Pongratz-Leisten, Beate 2015. Religion and Ideology in Assyria. Berlin, Boston: de Gruyter. Reviv, Hanoch 1988. “Kidinnu: Observations on Privileges of Mesopotamian Cities.” Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient 31(3): 286–295. Sachs, Abraham J. and Hermann Hunger 1988–1996. Astronomical Diaries and Related Texts from Babylonia. Volume I–IV. Wien: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften. Schivelbusch, Wolfgang 2003. The Culture of Defeat. On National Trauma, Mourning, and Recovery. Translated by Jefferson Chase. New York, NY: Metropolitan Books. Smith, Jonathan 1975. “A Pearl of Great Price and a Cargo of Yams: A Study of Situational Incongruity.” History of Religions 16(1): 1–19. von Soden, Wolfram 1995. Grundriss der Akkadischen Grammatik. Analecta Orientalia 33. Rome: Pontificio Istituto Biblico. van der Spek, Robartus 1985. “The Babylonian Temple during the Macedonian and Parthian Domination.” Bibliotheca Orientalis 42: 542–562. Thureau-Dangin, François 1921. Rituels accadiens. Paris: Éditions Ernest Leroux. Thureau-Dangin, François 1922. Tablettes d’Uruk à l’usage des prêtres du Temple d’Anu au temps des Séleucides. Paris: Librairie Orientaliste Paul Geuthner. Waerzeggers, Caroline 2003/2004. “The Babylonian Revolts against Xerxes and the ‘End of Archives’.” Archiv für Orientforschung 50: 150–173.

A NEW HOPE

163

Waerzeggers, Caroline 2010. The Ezida Temple of Borsippa: Priesthood, Cult, Archives. Leiden: Nederlands Instituut voor het Nabije Oosten. Waerzeggers, Caroline 2015a. “Facts, Propaganda, or History? Shaping Political Memory in the Nabonidus Chronicle.” In Political Memory in and after the Persian Empire, edited by Jason Silverman and Caroline Waerzeggers, 95–124. Atlanta: SBL Press. Waerzeggers, Caroline 2015b. “Babylonian Kingship in the Persian Period. Performance and Reception.” In Exile and Return. The Babylonian Context, edited by Jonathan Stökl and Caroline Waerzeggers, 181-222. Berlin: de Gruyter. Waerzeggers, Caroline and Maarja Seire 2018. Xerxes and Babylonia. The Cuneiform Evidence. Leuven: Peeters. Zgoll, Annette 2006. “Königslauf und Götterrat. Struktur und Deutung des babylonischen Neujahrsfestes.” In Festtraditionen in Israel und im Alten Orient, edited by Erhard Blum and Rüdiger Lux, 11–80. Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus.

THE SOUND OF SILENCE: THE DESTRUCTION OF BABYLON BY SENNACHERIB AND THE BABYLONIAN CHRONICLES1 YUVAL LEVAVI ABSTRACT The destruction of Babylon by Sennacherib in 689 BCE was an especially brutal and memorable event. The Assyrian king bragged in his own inscriptions about the total annihilation of the city, the flooding of the streets and, above all, the harsh treatment of Marduk and the Esagil temple. Accounts of Sennacherib’s brutal acts and almost unprecedented sacrilege are known from later Assyrian and Babylonian sources, testifying to the centrality and endurance of these traditions. Yet the Babylonian chroni1 This paper was not part of the Culture of Defeat conference that took place in Jerusalem in October 2017. I wish to thank the editors for the invitation to contribute to the present volume, thus encouraging me to delve into the fascinating issues dealt with below. I believe that the promising outcome of this preliminary work deserves further study, which I intend to pursue and publish in the near future. In November 2018, I was invited to present a version of this paper at a seminar held in the Hebrew University. I would like to thank Peter Zilberg and Wayne Horowitz for allowing me to share my work in this meeting, and to the participants of the seminar for their thoughts and comments. I further thank Zilberg for his useful notes regarding a written version of this paper. All views (and potential errors) are my own.

165

166

YUVAL LEVAVI cle (MC 16) makes only a passing mention of the capture of the city and the king, and remains mute regarding Esagil and Marduk. This paper aims at contextualizing the MC 16, evaluating its main characteristics, and thus striving toward a better understanding of its deafening silence regarding the events of 689 BCE

1. INTRODUCTION Around mid-November 689 BCE, the Assyrian king Sennacherib had had enough of the insubordinate south and decided to resolve his Babylonian problem once and for all.2 He destroyed the city of Babylon, tore down its temples, and flooded its streets. Although later sources are ambiguous on whether Marduk’s cult image was smashed or abducted (to Assyria),3 Sennacherib’s own inscriptions make it clear that the statue was smashed (see below). This was certainly one of the key episodes in the history of 1st millennium BCE Babylonia, one that set in motion a chain of events that lasted for hundreds of years (Van De Mieroop 2003). The magnitude and overwhelming effects of the event are vivid in several contemporary and later accounts and references found in Assyrian and Babylonian sources, and possibly even by the prophet Nahum and the Greek physician Ctesias (Van De Mieroop 2003, 21; 2004, 3). It is therefore nothing less than astonishing that the Babylonian chronicles make only a brief note regarding the capture of the city and the king, with no mention of the unprecedented destruction, wide-scale massacre, and especially of the almost unthinkable assault upon the Esagil temple and Marduk.4 The present contribution focuses on this deaf2 On the history of Assyria and Babylonia during the reign of Sennacherib, see Brinkman 1973; 1979; 1984, 54–67; Frame 1992, 52–70; Frahm 2017; the latter provides a wide diachronic survey of Assyro-Babylonian interactions with updated literature. 3 On ‘godnapping’ in Mesopotamia see Zaia 2015. 4 I am obviously not the first to notice this peculiarity. Jean-Jacques Glassner (2004, 25), for example, notes: “Strangely enough, Babylonian historians remained silent on the episode. The chronicler, in a brief cryptic allusion, barely notes that the city was captured and the king deported to Assyria.”

THE SOUND OF SILENCE

167

ening silence. The outcome of the paper may not necessarily ‘solve’ the problem. It may be out of our reach, for the moment, to answer the question of why exactly the chronicler phrased the text as we know it today. My hope is that the following discussion will lead to a better contextualisation of the specific chronicle (MC 16, see below), which will then serve as one more step towards a much-needed nuanced study of 1st millennium BCE Babylonian chronicles.

2. SENNACHERIB’S VERSION(S) OF THE EVENT Sennacherib himself addressed the destruction of Babylon in two of his known inscriptions. In the Bavian Inscription, he wrote: On my second campaign, I marched quickly to Babylon, which I planned to conquer, and (then) I blew like [the onset] of a storm and enveloped it like a (dense) fog. I besieged the city; then, by means of sapping and ladders, I [captured (it)] (and) plundered [the city]. Its people, young and old, I did not spare, and I filled the city squares with their corpses. I carried off alive to my land Šūzubu (Mušēzib-Marduk), the king of Babylon, together with his family (and) his […]s. I handed the property of that city – silver, gold, choice stones, possessions (and) property – over to my [people] and they kept it for themselves. My people seized and smashed the gods living inside it, and (then) they took their [possessions] (and) property. (Lines 48b–50a omitted) I destroyed, devastated, (and) burned with fire the city, and (its) buildings, from its foundations to its crenellations. I removed the brick(s) and earth, as much as there was, from the (inner) wall and outer wall, the temples, (and) the ziggurat, (and) I threw (it) into the Araḫtu river. I dug canals into the centre of that city and (thus) levelled their site with water. I destroyed the outline of its foundations and (thereby) made its destruction surpass that of the Deluge. So that in the future, the site of that city and (its) temples will be unrecognizable, I dissolved it in wa-

168

YUVAL LEVAVI ter and annihilated (it), (making it) like a meadow. (RINAP 3.2, 223: ii 47–54)5

The destruction is violent, rigorous, and complete. It includes the thorough, harsh treatment of the architecture, the people, and the gods of arguably the most important and sacred city in Babylonia. A second report by Sennacherib is found in his Akītu-temple Inscription: After I destroyed Babylon, smashed its gods, (and) put its people to the sword, I removed its earth in order to make the site of that city unrecognizable and I had (it) carried to the sea by the Euphrates River. (When) its dirt reached Dilmun and the people of Dilmun saw (it), fear (and) terror of (the god) Aššur fell upon them and they brought their audience gift(s) to me. Together with their audience gift(s), they sent people mustered from their land, corvée workers, (with) bronze spades (and) bronze ploughshares, tools manufactured in their land, in order to demolish Babylon. In order to pacify (the god) Aššur, my lord, for people to sing the praises of his might, (and) for the admiration of future people, I removed dirt from Babylon and piled (it) up in heaps (and) mounds in that Akītu-temple. (RINAP 3.2, 168: ii, 36–47)

The thorough destruction, smashing of gods, killing of the population, removal of earth, un-recognisability of the city, and the use of water in the destruction are all found in both inscriptions. The main difference between the Bavian and Akītu-temple inscriptions is that the former attributes the smashing of the gods to Assyrian soldiers (rather than to the king), while in the latter it is the king himself who is said to have destroyed the images. Shana Zaia (2015, 40) argues that the exceptional disassociation of Sennacherib from the actions in the Bavian Inscription is meant to distance the king from this unconventional act and protect him from possible divine retribution.6

All translations in this paper are based on the cited works with minor stylistic adjustments. 6 For further discussion, see Zaia 2015, 40–48. 5

THE SOUND OF SILENCE

169

3. ADDITIONAL ACCOUNTS IN LATER SOURCES Before moving on to the chronicle, the long-lasting survival and importance of traditions regarding this event should be further substantiated. In the following I will thus briefly survey the main later sources addressing the events of 689 BCE. Esarhaddon, Sennacherib’s son and heir, had quite a different approach with regard to Babylon. Wishing to rebuild the city destroyed by his father, Esarhaddon had to justify and contextualise his decision, while at the same time avoiding the besmirchment of his own father: At that time, in the reign of a previous king, bad omens occurred in Sumer and Akkad. The people living there were answering each other yes for no (and) were telling lies. They led their gods away, neglected their goddesses, abandoned their rites, (and) embraced quite different (rites). They put their hands on the possessions of Esagil, the palace of the gods, an inaccessible place, and they sold the silver, gold, (and) precious stones at market value to the land Elam. The Enlil of [the go]ds, the god Marduk, became angry and plotted evilly to level the land (and) to destroy its people. The river Araḫtu, (normally) a river of abundance, turned into an angry wave, a raging tide, a huge flood like the Deluge. It swept (its) waters destructively across the city (and) its dwellings and turned (them) into ruins. The gods dwelling in it flew up to the heavens like birds; the people living in it [were h]idden in another place and took refuge in an [unknown] land. The merciful god Marduk [w]rote that the calculated time of its abandonment (should last) seventy years, (but) his heart was quickly soothed, and he reversed the numbers and (thus) ordered its (re)occupation to be (after) eleven years. (RINAP 4, 104: i 18 – ii 9)

Esarhaddon referred to a past event that took place during the reign of some previous king. This forced attempt to disassociate his own father from the events frames the text almost as a parody. Yet several of the key elements are still easily recognisable, especially the centrality of the cult statues, the role of the Araḫtu canal, and the flood-like destruction. Interestingly, again in an attempt to soften Sennacher-

170

YUVAL LEVAVI

ib’s harsh act, the gods launched themselves to the sky rather than being smashed into the ground. Slightly over a century later, the last Neo-Babylonian king, Nabonidus, gave his own version of the event: [Against Akkad] he (i.e. Sennacherib) had evil intentions, he thought out crimes [agai]nst the country (i.e. Babylon), [he had] no mercy for the inhabitants of the co[untry]. With evil intentions against Babylon he let its sanctuaries fall in disrepair, disturbed the(ir) foundation outlines and let the cultic rites fall into oblivion. He (even) led the princely Marduk away and brought (him) into Ashur. (But) he acted (thus against the country only) according to the wrath(ful will) of the gods. The princely Marduk did not appease his anger, for twenty-one years he established his seat in Ashur. (But eventually) the time became full, the (predetermined) moment arrived, and the wrath of the king of the gods, the lord of lords calmed down; he remembered (again) Esagila and Babylon, his princely residence. (Therefore) he made his own son murder the king of Subartu (Assyria), he who (once) upon the wrath(ful command) of Marduk (himself) had brought about the downfall of the country [two or three lines missing]. (Oppenheim 1969, 309; Schaudig 2001, 514ff. § 3.3a)

As with Esarhaddon, Nabonidus’ theological framework is that of sin and punishment. Unlike Esarhaddon’s mention of the gods rising like birds into the sky, Nabonidus presents the common Babylonian trope of the deity deserting his home out of anger (and returning upon appeasement). The last reference to be mentioned is a ‘literary’ letter said to have been sent by Nabopolassar to the Assyrian king against whom he rebelled, Sîn-šarru-iškun. Nabopolassar framed his up-coming capture of the Nineveh as follows: [The city] of Sennacherib, son of Sargon, offspring of a house slave, conqu[eror of Babylon], [plund]erer of Akkad, its roots I shall pluck out and the foundations of the land I shall obliterate. (Gerardi 1986, 6–8)

THE SOUND OF SILENCE

171

According to this letter, the Babylonian conquest of the Assyrian (and Sennacherib’s) capital Nineveh was revenge for Sennacherib’s destruction of Babylon some 80 years earlier. It must be stressed that this is not a genuine letter, nor is it based on one.7 It is a literary letter composed a few hundred years after the events. What is important in the present context is the continuity of this traumatic event in Babylonian cultural memory. All of the above make the chronicles’ silence all the more bewildering. It must furthermore be stressed that, unlike the NeoAssyrian royal inscriptions and annals, the Neo-Babylonian chronicles did not disguise military and political defeats, at least not in the straightforward sense of state propaganda-style rhetoric. As I will illustrate below, several Babylonian downfalls are included in the chronicle, and there is certainly no attempt to display a positive and strong image of the Babylonian monarchs or their army. The chronicles, in fact, are the go-to text for those looking for information regarding the destruction of Babylon, the desolation of Esagil, and the disappearance of Marduk.

4. MC 16 AND THE BABYLON CHRONICLES The concept of a 1st millennium BCE Babylonian chronicle series, the composition of which began with the reign of Nabonassar (747–734 BCE), dominated scholarly discourse for many years.8 According to this view, the information in the chronicles was extracted from the detailed astronomical diaries that began to be systematically compiled at the same time.9 The first tablet in this chronicle series would 7 Interestingly, there is no known reference by either Nabopolassar or Nebuchadnezzar to Sennacherib’s destruction. It is unclear whether we should attribute this noticeable absence to the preservation of sources or whether the tradition was somehow dormant for some time prior to the point it regained significance under Nabonidus. 8 See most notably Grayson 1975, esp. 13–14. The notion of a chronicle series was earlier suggested by Benno Landsberger and Theo Bauer (1927, 61–65) and then by Donald J. Wiseman (1956, 3). 9 The notion that the detailed compilation of the astronomical diaries started in the reign of Nabonassar was first put forward by Franz X. Kugler (1924, 362–371), who was followed by Grayson (1975, 13–14) in connecting

172

YUVAL LEVAVI

thus be MC 16,10 which indeed starts during the reign of Nabonassar,11 and is the focus of the present discussion. Albert K. Grayson suggested to assign 14 texts and fragments to the series and divided them into two sub-series: ABC 1–7 (including MC 16) and ABC 8– 13a. However, while MC 16’s colophon does point to the existence of a chronicle series, John A. Brinkman (1990) and Caroline Waerzeggers (most importantly 2012, but see also e.g., 2015), demonstrated that the traditional concept of a Late/Neo-Babylonian chronical series cannot be maintained. As Waerzeggers (2012) illustrates, some of the tablets come from th 6 century BCE Borsippa (e.g., ABC 3, 4, 5), some were part of the Esagil archive in Babylon during the Hellenistic period, and a third group is lacking archival context but is known to have come from 6th century BCE Babylon. This last group is made up of only two texts, MC 16 and the closely related MC 17. Regarding the date and place in which these tablets were written, one can read in the colophon of MC 16: First section (pirsu rēštû), copied, collated, and prepared according to its original (tablet) (lit. old, labīru). Tablet of Ana-Bēlēreš, son of Libluṭ, descendant of Ur-Nanna. Written by Eaiddin, son of Ana-Bēl-ēreš, descendant of Ur-Nanna. Babylon, month [X, N]+6th day, year 22 of Dar[ius (I)], king of Babylon,

this practice to the Hellenistic tradition of a renewed scribal activity promoted by Nabonassar. 10 Glassner’s MC 16 = Grayson’s ABC 1a+c. ABC 1b, which Grayson considered a third witness to the same text as ABC 1a+c (though not an exact duplicate), was proven to be a closely related but distinct text by Brinkman (1990). In Glassner’s publication, ABC 1b = MC 17. 11 As will be discussed below, the first entry of the chronicle dates to Nabonassar’s third year, 745 BCE. MC 16 ends in the first year of Šamaš-šumaukīn, 668 BCE, during which the statue of Marduk was returned to Babylon.

THE SOUND OF SILENCE

173

[king] of (all) the lands. (See Hunger 1968, 57–58 §145; Brinkman 1990, 85 n. 68; Waerzeggers 2012, 289 n. 25)12

The chronological and geographical contexts of MC 16 are therefore clear, even though the archival context is unknown. Waerzeggers’ (2015) discussion of ABC 7 (a.k.a. the Nabonidus Chronicle) is especially relevant in this respect. According to the traditional series concept, ABC 7, one of the Hellenistic Period Esagil archive chronicles, was thought to be a copy of an earlier 6th century BCE original compiled in ‘real time’.13 Waerzeggers accepts that ABC 7 may be based on a 6th century BCE predecessor, yet stresses that the text must be treated as product of its Hellenistic environment.14 Moreover, examining the overall structure of the text, she illustrates how the author of ABC 7 manipulated the reader’s attention by playing with the intervals of his accounts (yearly, monthly, daily), thus adjusting the narrative rhythm, which becomes denser at certain key points (Waerzeggers 2015, 108). While it is beyond the scope of the present contribution to offer a similar dissection of MC 16, a simple count of its lines according to yearly entries may illustrate the existence of an overall structure. The simplistic nature of this count naturally limits what can be made of these figures, but nonetheless it may be useful to compare the first (745–707 BCE) and the second (706–668 BCE) halves of the seventy-six-year period covered in MC 16. The following table lays out the relevant figures resulting from such a comparison: Note the colophon’s translation in Glassner 2004, 203 omits the mention of Ea-iddin’s authorship of the tablet, in what is probably a simple typographical error. 13 It must be stressed that Wiseman’s (1956, 3, followed by Grayson 1975, 9 n. 7, 14, 21) suggestion that ABC 7 and MC 16 (ABC 1) were written by the same scribe has rightly been dismissed. Contra to Wiseman’s claim, different handwriting and some basic signs can clearly be distinguished (Brinkman 1990). More importantly, there are at least 200 years separating the two tablets (Waerzeggers 2012). 14 See also Stefan S. Zawadzki (2010) and his discussion of the chronicles ‘of’ Nabonidus and Cyrus, in which he stresses and illustrates the importance of reading each chronicle as a product of its own time. 12

174

YUVAL LEVAVI

Entries(i) Lines Lines per entry Lines per year(ii)

(a) 745–707 (38 years)

(b) 706–668 (38 years)

(c) Total (76 years)

11 49 4.45 1.29

22 130 5.9 3.42

33 179 5.42 2.35

(i) One entry represents a single year discussed in the text (regardless to the ruled lines on the tablet) (ii) The number of lines divided by the number of years covered (regardless to the number of actual entries)

First, we see that not only does the second half of the text contain twice the number of entries as the first (11 vs. 22, row 1), each entry in the second half also has more lines than those in the first (4.45 vs. 5.5, row 3). The gap becomes even more significant when we consider the overall number of lines per year (1.29 vs. 3.42, row 4). The text becomes denser and denser. Assuming that this quantitative aspect has qualitative implications, we may argue for a linear progression as we get closer to the end of the chronicle (and the return of Marduk to Babylon). Having said this, there is no clear peak at the final year of the chronicle. This may be attributed to the fact that MC 16 is not an isolated text. As can be gathered from its colophon, it is but the first part (pirsu rēštû) of a more extensive series.15 Another important point made by Waerzeggers is her rejection of the ‘factual report’ vs. ‘propaganda’ framework, which has dominated the discourse of chronicles so far. Instead, she argues, we should read these texts as history (2015, 83), in the sense of “the intellectual form in which a civilisation renders account to itself of its 15 Although tempting, I refrain from trying to (over-)dissect individual entries with exceptional numbers of lines and accumulations of successive years. This requires a much more in-depth examination of the specific context and literary structure than the present paper aspires to. Additionally, as much as scholars wish to find meaningful patterns in our texts, we should bear in mind that not every statistical anomaly carries hidden meanings.

THE SOUND OF SILENCE

175

past” (Huizinga 1936, 9).16 Here lies the crux of the matter, and the same should be done with each of the Neo/Late-Babylonian chronicles. Before scholars can (re)study the chronicles as a group,17 we must first address the distinct settings of each tablet and properly contextualise the individual chronicle. For MC 16 this is late 6th century BCE Babylon.

5. T HE ‘H ISTORY’ OF MC 16? MC 16 was copied in 500/499 BCE (22 Darius). There is not much to go by when trying to date the actual source, the Urtext from which it was copied. Yet given the anaemic image of Babylonian kings in the chronicle, as will be illustrated below, it is extremely unlikely that the original was compiled during the Neo-Babylonian period. I would thus date the original text to the last third of the 6th century BCE, during the early years of the Persian period. This means that MC 16 postdates the above-mentioned Nabonidus basalt stela (Oppenheim 1969, 309; Schaudig 2001, 514 §3.3a), which does address the 689 BCE event, and is more-or-less contemporary with (or slightly postdates) the Cyrus cylinder and the verse account. 16 This naturally leads to the issue of reliability and bias in/of the Babylonian chronicles. Addressing the related questions in a straightforward matter, however, may be somewhat misleading. It would not be too overly postmodernist to state that there is no such animal as non-biased historiographical writing. Objectivity is a worthless currency in this respect. To be clear, it is certainly true that our understanding of the complexity and rationale behind the chronicles has greatly developed since the early, naïve days of Assyriology. Yet we should be careful not to throw the baby out with the bathwater. Although it may be a risky assertion (setting aside scribal errors and honest mistakes), positivistic factual claims could generally be accepted. The opposite of course cannot be maintained: silence cannot be taken as evidence that a specific event did not take place. But the basic details (e.g., geography, chronology, and prosopography) in reports of ‘godnapping’, military clashes, royal deaths, and so forth could be accepted as historically reliable in the most basic sense. If King A was dethroned in his Nth year for act X against B, we can accept A and N. 17 As noted by many, the lack of a proper definition of what a chronicle actually is, is a complicated problem (on which see Brinkman 1990; Glassner 2004, 37; Waerzeggers 2012), and one that cannot be addressed here.

176

YUVAL LEVAVI

Regarding the timeframe covered by MC 16, it is usually said to give an account of the main events in Babylon(ia) starting with the Babylonian king Nabonassar (747–734 BCE) down to the first year of Šamaš-šuma-ukīn (668 BCE).18 While this is true, it is not accurate, and may be misleading. MC 16 opens its account of the early 7th to late 6th century BCE Babylonia in the third year of Nabonassar, 745 BCE, rather than the first:19 [In the third year (of the reign) of Nabonassar], king of Babylon, [Tiglath-pileser (III)] ascended the throne of Assyria. The same year, [the king of Assyria] went down into Akkad, pillaged Rabbilu and Ḫamrāna, and deported the gods of Šapazza. (Glassner 2004, 195)

The first thing on the chronicler’s mind is the accession TiglathPileser (III) to the Assyrian throne and his military campaign against Babylonia. Next, we hear of an undated Borsippean revolt against Nabonassar, for which the chronicler notes that he could not find (sufficient/reliable/written) sources. This is followed by a report concerning Ḫumban-nikaš (I) ascending the throne in Elam, and the death of Nabonassar in his 14th year. Nabonassar, then, is mentioned only as a chronological reference. None of his actions are deemed worthy of making it into the chronicle, and the only event of his reign worth mentioning is the Borsippa revolt. The chronicler’s note concerning the lack of sources for Nabonassar’s response could be interpreted in several ways. First, it can be taken at face value. The chronicler may have had a source for the rebellion itself but not for its suppression. While this is possible, it begs the question regarding the nature of such a source. One could also suggest that the entire Borsippa episode is a later addition by a scribe who felt that the text could not omit such an important event, which would reasonably have been known among Babylonian scholars. Of course, we know next to nothing about the transmission For 1st millennium BCE Babylonia up to the raise of the Neo-Babylonian empire, see Brinkman 1968; 1984; Frame 1992. 19 Note that MC 17 (ABC 1b) probably did cover Nabonassar’s accession, but the opening lines are broken; see Brinkman 1990, 80–84. 18

THE SOUND OF SILENCE

177

process of such texts and whether such a speculative scenario is valid. In any event, we are still left with no recorded action taken by Nabonassar during his 14-year rule. It would be wrong, however, to think of the chronicler’s attitude toward Nabonassar as a simple lack of interest or appreciation of his reign. It is in fact part of the chronicler’s own history. For the chronicler, the Babylonian kings were passive, anaemic figures who did not have meaningful bearing on the historical playground of 7th century BCE Babylonia overall. To illustrate this point, we might first examine a few excerpts concerning Merodach-baladan. The second year of Merodach-baladan (720/719 BCE), King Ḫumban-nikaš of Elam joined battle with King Sargon of Assyria in the district of Dēr; he brought about Assyria’s withdrawal and inflicted a crushing defeat on it. Merodach-baladan, who had gone with his army to the aid of the king of Elam, did not join the battle in time and withdrew. (MC 16: i 33–37)

The main event in Merodach-baladan’s second year was a battle between Assyria and Elam that took place in Dēr, which, despite being on the eastern fringe, was traditionally part of Babylonia. Merodach-baladan was unable to reach the battle in time, even though it was a battle that took place in his own land.20 Elsewhere we find Merodach-baladan retreating and fleeing the battlefield, twice: [Sargon went down into Akkad and joined] battle [with Merodach-baladan. Before him], Mero[dach-baladan beat a retreat and fled into Elam]. (MC 16: ii 1–5)

A similar episode is described in ABC 3 (MC 22): 24–30. There, it is Nabopolassar who does not make it in time for the Elamite capture of Nineveh. I do not see any reason to doubt the historical validity of either claim in their most basic sense; viz. that Merodach-baladan did not make it to the battle of Dēr and that Nabopolassar was late to the battle of Nineveh. The difference may lie in the fact that while Merodach-baladan is said to have withdrawn following the Elamite victory, Nabopolassar continued to Nineveh to conclude his alliance with Elamite king.

20

178

YUVAL LEVAVI Sennacherib, he went down into Akkad. Before Kiš, he joined battle with Merodach-baladan. Before him, Merodach-baladan beat a retreat and fled to Guzummanu. In Babylon, Sennacherib entered into the palace of Merodach-baladan and the royal treasury … [he plundered … but] he did not disperse the inhabitants of Babylon. He pursued [Merodach-baladan (?) …] the territory […], but Merodach-baladan [remained undiscoverable]. /…/ On his return he made Bēl-ibni ascend the throne of Babylon. (MC 16: ii 12–22)

In the second passage (MC 16: ii 12–22), following the flight of the Babylonian king, the Assyrian king was able to enter the palace in Babylon, do as he pleased, and even install a king of his choice to sit on the Babylonian throne.21 In fact, twice more in our chronicle we hear that the king of Babylon was placed there by a foreign king: once at the end of the reign of the very same Bēl-ibni: Bēl-ibni reigned three years over Babylon. Sennacherib made his son Aššur-nādin-Šumi ascend the throne of Babylon. (MC 16: ii 28–30)

And once by the king of Elam: The king of Elam made Nergal-ušēzib ascend the throne of Babylon. (MC 16: ii 43–44)

For the chronicler, the Babylonian kings were mere puppets. They bore no historical weight of their own. In the same vain, a clearly positive event such as the return of the gods of Uruk from Assur is framed thus:

21 The fact

that it is specifically stated that Sennacherib “did not disperse the inhabitants of Babylon” should be understood in light of the later event during the 689 BCE destruction and the bitter fate of many Babylonians. That is, while the chronicler is silent regarding the Babylonians’ actual misfortune, he took pains to mention that this is not the (in)famous Sennacherib military campaign to Babylon.

THE SOUND OF SILENCE

179

The eighth year when there was no king in Babylon (681/680 BCE), in the month of Dûzu, the third day, the gods of Uruk returned from [Assy]ria (!) to Uruk. (MC 16: iii 28–29)

The gods of Uruk returned despite the fact that there was no (Babylonian) king in the land. For the chronicler, therefore, there was no particular need for a king. To be clear, this is not an anti-monarchist manifesto. Rather, it is a basic perception/acceptance that having a native king on the Babylonian throne is not the ‘end of the world’. To some extent, this is also the subtext of the final report of the chronicle: The year of the accession of Šamaš-šuma-ukīn (668 BCE), in the month of Ayyāru, Bēl and the gods of Akkad left Aššur; they entered Babylon in the month of Iyyar, the [four]teen/twenty[four]th(?) day. The same year, Kirbītum wa[s taken], its king captured. In the month of Ṭebētu, the twentieth day, Bēl-ēṭir, the judge of Babylon, was arrested and executed. (MC 16: iv 34–38)

Again, the Babylonian gods, headed by Marduk himself, find their way safely to Babylon and there no need for a Babylonian king. Remarkably, in our chronicle, the gods never actually left Babylon, but they are still coming back.22 The most proactive depiction of a Babylonian king is that of Nergal-ušēzib: The first year of Nergal-ušēzib (693/692 BCE), in the month of Dûzu, the sixteenth day, Nergal-ušēzib took Nip[pur], sacked and plundered it. (MC 16: ii 45–46)

Note that Nergal-ušēzib did not win on the battlefield. Rather, it seems that he simply took over Nippur without any resistance. Yet even control over the clearly Babylonian city of Nippur was temporary, as we learn from what immediately follows (regarding the events of later that year): 22 The final note, regarding the arrest and execution of the Babylonian judge Bēl-ēṭir, illustrates that law and order were being kept, again regardless of the identity and affiliation of the king.

180

YUVAL LEVAVI In the month of Tašrītu, the first day, the Assyrian army entered Uruk. It held the gods and the inhabitants of Uruk for ransom. After the arrival of the Elamites and the rounding-up of the gods and the inhabitants of Uruk (by the Assyrians), in the month of Tašrītu, the seventh day, Nergal-ušēzib joined battle with the Assyrian army in the district of Nippur; he was captured on the battlefield and deported to Assyria. Nergal-ušēzib reigned one year – (precisely) six months – over Babylon. (MC 16: ii 47–iii 5)

Few additional points become clear. Indeed, Nergal-ušēzib was able to take Nippur due to the fact that the Assyrian army was further south, capturing Uruk. Again, the Assyrians did as they pleased within the core of Babylonia. Nergal-ušēzib had minimal influence in major parts of his land and it was once again the Elamites who fought the Assyrians. Next, when the Babylonian king finally confronted the Assyrian army, he was immediately captured and deported from his land after a year and a half on the throne. The final example takes place during the reign of MušēzibMarduk (692–689 BCE): In an unknown year, Ḫumban-nimena (king of Elam) mustered the army of Elam and Akkad; he joined battle with Assyria at Ḫalulê and caused the withdrawal of Assyria. (MC 16: iii 16–18)

Here we see that the Babylonian army was mustered and led by the Elamite king himself, while no mention was made of MušēzibMarduk. Elam was in complete control of the land, which brings us to one of the central characteristics in the chronicler’s history.

6. ELAMITE PREDILECTION What is dubbed here an Elamite predilection is not a straightforward bias, as we might find in ‘classic’ propaganda such as the verse account. It is better to think of it in terms of an honest representation of the chronicler’s world view. As such, it is more elusive and harder to pinpoint. Nevertheless, we may illustrate the point by a simple count of the distribution of geographical names and the attribution of kingship.

THE SOUND OF SILENCE

Babylon(iii) Assyria Elam

Geographical names(i) 25 35 37

181 King (of)(ii) 2 5 14

(i) The name Akkad is attested 15 times referring to Babylonia: seven as the target of a military campaign; four in the phrase “king x ruled over Akkad” (including one restoration of a scribal omission, i 28); twice in the unclear selection (biḫirtu) in Akkad (one broken and restored, [iii 48], vi 4), see Brinkman 1984, 73–75; Frame 1992, 243–244; once referring to the army of Akkad, and once in “the gods of Akkad”. (ii) The kings of Tyre, Egypt, Kundu, and Kubutum are mentioned once each and are not included in the table. (iii) These numbers exclude the colophon.

Simply put, the chronicler was most occupied with Elam and its kings. Indeed, Elam played a central role during the AssyroBabylonian conflicts of the 7th century BCE, as can also be observed in contemporary Assyrian reports. Yet our text was written by a Babylonian, in Babylonia, about Babylonia, at a time when Elam was subsumed into the Persian empire. It seems thus reasonable to argue that Elam, and particularly its kings, are over-represented in MC 16.23 Furthermore, the sometimes-intimate knowledge and familiarity of the chronicles with the finer details of Elamite succession history is impressive, for example:

23 While MC 16 should not be conceived as a pro-Elamite text per se, it certainly does not fit within the ‘Elam as a mythological enemy’ trope. The ground zero for this trope was probably the ‘godnapping’ of Marduk to Elam at the end of the 2nd millennium BCE and his return by Nebuchadnezzar I; see Nielsen 2012, 2015. While this is not directly related to the issue of the present paper, I will note that there are some indications that the negative Elamite trope has an Assyrian origin, or at least that it was partially shaped in Assyria. For the Assyrian context of early (but not contemporary) texts dealing with return of Marduk by Nebuchadnezzar I, see Nielsen 2012, 13; 2015, 60–61.

182

YUVAL LEVAVI The first year of Aššur-nādin-šumi, Ḫallušu-(Inšušinak I) captured King Šutur-Naḫḫunte of Elam, his brother, and locked him up. (MC 16: ii 31–32) (I)n the month of Nisannu, the fifteenth day, King Ḫumbannimena of Elam was seized by a paralytic stroke, and his mouth was held fast so that it was impossible for him to speak. (MC 16: iii 19–21) In the month of Tašrītu, at noon, the twenty-third day, King Ḫumban-ḫaltaš of Elam fell ill. He [di]ed at sun[set]. (MC 16: iii 30–31)

The accuracy of these details are of less impotence than the fact that the details and attention given to the Elamite succession far surpass those of their Babylonian and Assyrian counterparts. This of course raises the interesting question of which sources were available to the chronicler. Like many other key aspects of the chronicles, however, this will have to wait a much more exhaustive study that covers all of the sixth century chronicles.

7. SO WHY DID THE MC 16 CHRONICLE GREATLY UNDER PLAY THE 689 BCE E VENT ? As noted at the beginning, a fully satisfactory answer to this question is still out of my reach, but the following is hopefully a step in the right direction. Simply put, I suggest that the extreme historical and theological catastrophe confronted our chronicler with a cognitive dissonance, the result of which is the much-softened version found in the text. Theologically, there is no doubt that the chronicler had several tools with which he could regard the 689 BCE event, traumatic though it may have been. The above-mentioned inscriptions of Esarhaddon and later Nabonidus are good examples in this respect. Yet the history of MC 16 is not a theological one. The chronicle is not an apologetic manifesto regarding, for example, the phenomena of ‘godnapping’. Furthermore, from a historical point of view, he had no problem directly addressing (multiple) political and military failures. The chronicler did not try to persuade the reader; he simply laid out his history as he understood it. For one writing during the early years of the Persian period, the notion of strong foreign rule over Babylonia was not inconceivable;

THE SOUND OF SILENCE

183

it was the reality. In the turbulent years that followed the death of Nebuchadnezzar, especially in light of the peculiar reign of Nabonidus, it is easy to see how one could hold a worldview such as that presented in MC 16. For our chronicler, Babylon is at the centre. Kings may come and go. They may be local, but often they are not. Babylon remains. The cult prevails. Nonetheless, the magnitude of Sennacherib’s destruction certainly stood out. It was neither a ‘routine’ conquest, and nor was it just another ‘godnapping’ episode. It was the loss of Marduk himself, and it was as close as it got to the complete annihilation of Babylon. Moreover, it was brought about by a foreign ruler at a time when the Babylonians had little to no control over their own land. The potential comparison to the chronicler’s own time, combined with his basic acceptance of foreign rule in Babylonia, was overwhelming. One cannot accept/support Persian rule on the one hand while simultaneously dismissing, or being aloof to, the moral of the AssyroBabylonian conflict of the 7th century BCE. I suggest that it is this cognitive dissonance that forced the chronicler to conceal the true and full outcome brought about by Sennacherib’s wrath. The Elamite predilection may be another aspect of the chronicler’s self-conviction. Even after it was subsumed into the Persian Empire, the name Elam itself was still in use within Babylonian scholarly circles when referring to the land to the east (Nielsen 2015, 57). Thus, the assertive yet positive portrayal of the Elamites in MC 16 was another way of reassuring readers that the evil that once poured down from the north would not return. To what extent was it intentionally projected outward towards the reader, and how much of it was due to internal subconscious precedent, is hard to say.

8. SUMMARY MC 16 was compiled during the early years of the Persian period and it reflects the worldview of a Babylonian scribe living in Babylon at that time. The text should not be thought of as mere propaganda, but it is also important to discard the simplified view that it is a compilation of semi-arbitrary, dry, factual reports. The colophon of MC 16 makes it clear that it was the first part of what might be dubbed a chronical series. It was not, however, the Neo-Babylonian chronicle series envisioned by Grayson (1975). As it

184

YUVAL LEVAVI

stands, it is the only tablet of its series that has come down to us. MC 17 is clearly related to MC 16, but we are currently unable to explore the relationship between the two texts. The connection between these two 6th century BCE Babylon chronicles to the group of contemporary Borsippean chronicles is a promising direction for future study, and certainly deserves further exploration. A most striking feature of MC 16 is the almost complete silence regarding Sennacherib’s destruction of Babylon in 689 BCE, during which both Marduk and the Esagil temple suffered severe, direct, and intentional damage. Common sense, as well as several hints within the text itself, make it clear that the chronicler was very familiar with the details of the event. His short report on the city and the king being taken, then, cannot be brushed aside as a poor choice of words (or due to a lack of sources, for that matter). I suggested above that the extreme and harsh events of 689 BCE created a cognitive dissonance within the chronicler of MC 16, who was very much at peace with Persian rule over Babylonia. Whether this meant active support and collaboration, or simple (Realpolitikbased) acceptance, cannot be said. The chronicle, in any case, was not state-initiated, and should not be seen as being pro-Persian propaganda. It reflects the chronicler’s worldview, his personal history and historical narrative. The (positive) prospect of foreign Persian rule during the chronicler’s own time contrasts with the fatal outcome of the Babylonian weakness of the 7th century BCE.

ABBREVIATIONS ABC MC RINAP

Grayson 1975 Glassner 2004 Grayson and Novotny 2014; Leichty 2011

BIBLIOGRAPHY Brinkman, John A. 1968. A Political History of Post-Kassite Babylonia, 1158–722 B.C. Rome: Pontificium Institutum Biblicum. Brinkman, John A. 1973. “Sennacherib’s Babylonian Problem: An Interpretation.” Journal of Cuneiform Studies 25: 89–95. Brinkman, John A. 1979. “Babylonia under the Assyrian Empire, 745–627 B.C.” In Power and Propaganda: A Symposium on Ancient Empires, edited by Mogens T. Larsen, 223–250. Meso-

THE SOUND OF SILENCE

185

potamia. Copenhagen Studies in Assyriology 7. Copenhagen: Akademisk Forlag. Brinkman, John A. 1984. Prelude to Empire. Babylonian Society and Politics, 746–626 B.C. Occasional Publications of the Babylonian Fund 7. Philadelphia: Occasional Publications of the Babylonian Fund. Brinkman, John A. 1990. “The Babylonian Chronicle Revisited.” In Lingering over Words, Studies in Ancient Near Eastern Literature in Honor of William L. Moran, edited by Tzvi Abusch, John Huehnergard, and Piotr Steinkeller, 73–104. Georgia: Scholars Press. Frahm, Eckart 2017. “Assyria and the South: Babylonia.” In A Companion to Assyria, Blackwell Companions to the Ancient World, edited by Eckart Frahm, 286–298. Hoboken: John Wiley. Frame, Grant 1992. Babylonia 689–627 B.C.: A Political History. Leiden: Nederlands Instituut voor het Nabije Oosten. Gerardi, Pamela 1986. “Declaring War in Mesopotamia.” Archiv für Orientforschung 33: 30–38. Glassner, Jean-Jacques 2004. Mesopotamian Chronicles. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature. Grayson, Albert K. 1975. Assyrian and Babylonian Chronicles. Locust Valley: J. J. Augustin Publisher. Grayson, Albert K., and Jamie Novotny 2014. The Royal Inscriptions of Sennacherib, King of Assyria (704–681 BC). Royal Inscriptions of the Neo-Assyrian Period 3.2. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns. Huizinga, Johan 1936. “A Definition of the Concept of History.” In Philosophy and History: Essays Presented to Ernst Cassirer, edited by Raymond Klibansky and Herbert J. Patton, 1–10. Oxford: Clarendon. Hunger, Hermann 1968. Babylonische und assyrische Kolophone. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 2. Neukirchen Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag. Kugler, Franz X. 1924. Sternkunde und Sterndienst in Babel 2. Münster: Aschendorffsche Verlagsbuchhandlung. Landsberger, Benno, and Theo Bauer 1927. “Zu neuveröffentlichen Geschichtsquellen aus der Zeit von Asarhaddon bis Nabonid.” Zeitschrift für Assyriologie und Vorderasiatische Archäologie 37: 61–98.

186

YUVAL LEVAVI

Leichty, Erle 2011. The Royal Inscriptions of Esarhaddon, King of Assyria (680-669 BC). Royal Inscriptions of the Neo-Assyrian Period 4. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns. Nielsen, John P. 2012. “Marduk’s Return: Assyrian Imperial Propaganda, Babylonian Cultural Memory, and the akītu Festival of 667 BC.” In Memory and Urban Religion in the Ancient World, edited by Martin Bommas, Juliette Harrisson, and Phoebe Roy, 3–32. London: Bloomsbury. Nielsen, John P. 2015. “‘I Overwhelmed the King of Elam’: Remembering Nebuchadnezzar I in Persian Babylonia.” In Political Memory in and After the Persian Empire, edited by Jason Silverman and Caroline Waerzeggers, 53–73. Ancient Near East Monographs 13. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature. Oppenheim, Leo 1969. “Nabonidus.” In Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament, edited by James B. Pritchard, 308–311. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Schaudig, Hans-Peter 2001. Die Inschriften Nabonids von Babylon und Kyros’ des Großen samt den in ihrem Umfeld entstandenen Tendenzschriften. Textausgabe und Grammatik. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 256. Münster: Ugarit Verlag. Van De Mieroop, Marc 2003. “Revenge, Assyrian Style.” Past & Present 179(1): 3–23. Van De Mieroop, Marc 2004. “A Tale of Two Cities: Nineveh and Babylon.” Iraq 66: 1–5. Waerzeggers, Caroline 2012. “The Babylonian Chronicles: Classification and Provenance.” Journal of Near Eastern Studies 71(2): 285–298. Waerzeggers, Caroline 2015. “Facts, Propaganda, or History? Shaping Political Memory in the Nabonidus Chronicle.” In Political Memory in and After the Persian Empire, edited by Jason Silverman and Caroline Waerzeggers, 95–124. Ancient Near East Monographs 13. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature. Wiseman, Donald J. 1956. Chronicles of Chaldaean Kings (626–556 B.C.) in the British Museum. London: British Museum. Zaia, Shana 2015. “State-Sponsored Sacrilege: ‘Godnapping’ and Omission in Neo-Assyrian Inscriptions.” Journal of Ancient Near Eastern History 2(1): 19–54.

THE SOUND OF SILENCE

187

Zawadzki, Stefan S. 2010. “The Portrait of Nabonidus and Cyrus in Their(?) Chronicle: When and Why the Present Version Was Composed.” In Who Was King? Who Was Not King? The Rulers and Ruled in the Ancient Near East, edited by Petr Charvát and Petra Maříková Vlčková, 142–154. Prague: Institute of Archaeology of the Academy of Sciences of the Czech Republic.

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT: HOW TO TRACE DEFEAT IN ANCIENT EGYPTIAN SOURCES FELIX HÖFLMAYER ABSTRACT Defeat is a topic not well represented in Egyptian culture or Egyptology. Despite the fact that several traumatic events have happened during the course of several thousands of years of Egyptian history, the reconstruction of defeats often relies on circumstantial evidence, external or much later sources. This absence of defeat accounts stands in stark contrast to the textual corpus of the neighbouring ancient Near East, where similar events are acknowledged in the Hebrew Bible or in Mesopotamian sources. This chapter assembles and discusses the Egyptian textual evidence relating to the Assyrian conquest of Egypt and contrasts this picture with the archaeological data. While a detailed reconstruction is possible based on the Assyrian texts, we almost lack suitable Egyptian sources. The archaeological record seems to be silent as well, whereas we find archaeological traces of booty and deportees in Assyria. This discrepancy between the archaeological record in Egypt and the textual sources will be compared to the evidence from the Levant and questions will be posed in which way short-term political/military events could manifest themselves in the archaeological record.

1. INTRODUCTION Tracing defeat in ancient sources can be a challenging task, and identifying an historical overthrow in disparate textual sources and in archaeology happens most rarely. The Assyrian siege and conquest of 189

190

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

Lachish by Sennacherib in 701 BCE is an exception to this rule, because in this extraordinary case we are able to trace a military defeat from a variety of different angles. Sennacherib’s siege of Lachish is not only known from the famous Lachish reliefs from Nineveh, now in the British Museum, but also from the Hebrew Bible and from the archaeological excavations conducted by Tel Aviv University under the direction of David Ussishkin in the 1970s and 1980s (Ussishkin 1982; Ussishkin 2004; Ussishkin 2014). More commonly, scholars struggle with textual and archaeological sources regarding defeat in the ancient Near East. Both Assyriology and Egyptology remain fields dominated by philology, where archaeological sources are often (ab)used as mere illustrations of textbased historical reconstructions. Yet text-based models of historical events can also be misleading where sources are biased or lacking. Indeed, historical defeats that are well-attested in the sources of one academic field might be lacking in the sources of another. The Assyrian invasions of Egypt in the early 7th century BCE serve as a case in point. Although it is generally assumed that the fall of Memphis in 671 BCE and the sack of Thebes in 663 BCE were catastrophic and highly traumatizing events, at least to the Egyptians who lived through them, they seem to be rather a blind spot for Egyptological research. To a certain extent, this somewhat surprising ignorance could be explained by an imbalance of sources. Hans-Ulrich Onasch, in his extensive treatment of the textual sources for the Assyrian invasion of Egypt, noted: “Die Eroberungen Ägyptens durch die assyrischen Könige Asarhaddon und Assurbanipal in der ersten Hälfte des siebten vorchristlichen Jahrhunderts haben in Ägypten weder Spuren noch Zeugnisse hinterlassen. Alle wichtigen Quellen zur Geschichte dieser Zeit sind nicht aus Ägypten selbst überliefert” (Onasch 1994, 1; emphasis mine). Defeat is a concept not well represented in Egyptian sources generally, and it does not seem to be a topic of great interest among the Egyptological community. Many scholarly contributions focus on aspects of victory, and how victory is represented in Egyptian textual and visual culture. The catalogue of an exhibition on war and peace in ancient Egypt in the Gustav-Lübcke-Museum in Hamm, Germany, is a suitable example (Petschel and Falck 2004): The volume was entitled Pharao siegt immer, and while the authors of this

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

191

catalogue were of course aware of the fact that this title simply reproduces the ancient Egyptian royal doctrine (Königsdogma) that the king had to be triumphant, it also reflects a certain reality in Egyptological research. The concept of Königsdogma is certainly important. Jan Assmann pointed out that although chaos and times of crisis are often present in Egyptian literature, every pharaoh needed to inherently overcome the forces of chaos from the moment he ascended to the throne. Pharaoh guarantees that the land blossoms and thrives, and it is Pharaoh who re-introduces cosmic order (maat) and executes divine will. Chaos only exists in an abstract way, and chaos can only be described retrospectively, from a point in time looking back to when the forces of chaos still ruled, before the might of Pharaoh banished them and ensured that cosmic order prevails: “Unheil gibt es in dieser Welt nur im Sinne einer dogmatischen Fiktion und kommt nur im Modus der Behobenheit, des Überwundenseins zur Sprache, um der Rolle des Königs als Heilsbringer zum Objekt zu dienen” (Assmann 1983, 345). In this context, it can be assumed that the rich textual sources of ancient Egypt won’t exactly be overflowing with narratives of defeat. Despite the fact that a number of traumatic events must have happened during the course of several thousand years of Egyptian history, reconstruction of defeat often relies on circumstantial evidence, or on external or much later sources. This aspect of Egyptian literature stands in stark contrast to the textual corpus of the neighbouring ancient Near East, because traumatic defeats are acknowledged in the Hebrew Bible and in Mesopotamian sources (cf. other articles in the present volume). The Assyrian conquests of Egypt show how difficult it can be to identify defeat, how imbalanced the respective sources are, and how complicated it is to present a reliable view of a specific historical event. Two are known, but almost exclusively from Assyrian sources: first by Esarhaddon in 671 BCE and then by Ashurbanipal 664/3 BCE. There are no Egyptian texts describing, or commenting on, the events in question, and only a few texts from different literary genres suggest indirect links to the events surrounding the Assyrian conquests. Archaeological sources are almost absent as well. Only very few objects excavated in the Nile Valley are thought to be remnants

192

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

of the Assyrian military might that once allegedly traversed the country into Upper Egypt, and even those have been disputed in the literature. Very few scholars have tackled this subject, and references to the Assyrian invasions are often lacking in volumes on the archaeology of the Third Intermediate Period of the Theban region (e.g. Budka 2010). In the following pages, I will first present the sequence of historical events that can be largely reconstructed from Assyrian sources, then discuss Egyptian texts that are thought to refer to the events in question,1 in order to then contrast the historical events with the archaeological evidence on the ground. Finally, we will analyse the imbalance between archaeological and historical (textual) sources and try to outline the consequences for the histoire événementielle (Braudel 1990) of the ancient Near East.

2. THE ASSYRIAN INVASIONS OF EGYPT Most scholars agree that the Assyrian invasions were highly traumatizing events for the ancient Egyptians, and that the sack of Thebes counted as one of the great catastrophes of the ancient Near East. According to James Henry Breasted, “the story of the ruin of Thebes spread to all peoples around” and from that moment onward, “the fortunes of the venerable city steadily declined and its splendours, such as no city of the early orient had ever displayed, gradually faded” (Breasted 1909, 559–60; see also: Zeissl 1944, 46). Kim Ryholt assumed that the Assyrian conquest led to a national trauma: “The Assyrian invasion and subsequent occupation of Egypt in the seventh century BCE was a traumatic experience which gave rise to a rich literary tradition in Egypt” (Ryholt 2004, 483). Danʾel Kahn also described the conquest of Thebes as “one of the catastrophes of the ancient world” (Kahn 2006, 265). These assumptions deserve closer examination.

1 For the scope of this paper, we will limit ourselves to a brief survey of contemporary or near-contemporary Egyptian textual sources for the reception of the Assyrian invasion(s) within later Egyptian literature cf. Ryholt 2004.

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

193

2.1. Historical Background Based on Assyrian Sources

The historical reconstruction of the Assyrian invasions is based almost entirely on Assyrian textual sources. According to these, the Assyrian kings Esarhaddon (681–669 BCE) and Ashurbanipal (669– 630 BCE) conducted several campaigns against Egypt, which, at that time, was ruled by Kushite kings of what is now called the 25th Dynasty, specifically Taharqa (690–664 BCE) and Tanutamun (664–656 BCE) (Morkot 2000). Much has been written about the political events that accompanied the western expansion of the Assyrian Empire, especially the conquest and subsequent integration of the Kingdom of Israel in 720 BCE and the campaigns of Sennacherib in 701 BCE, both of which are not only recorded in Assyrian sources, but also in the Hebrew Bible (Lamprichs 1995; Schipper 1999; Farber and Wright 2018; Hasegawa, Levin, and Radner 2019). The political and economic role of Egypt in the late 8th and early 7th century BCE has also been discussed extensively (Spalinger 1978; Zamazalová 2011; Morkot 2019). For this paper, however, we are more interested in the actual events of the Assyrian invasions in Egypt, and in how they might be traced in Egyptian textual and archaeological sources. Therefore, we will not discuss the political and economic developments between Egypt and Assyria in the 8th and early 7th centuries BCE that eventually led to these events. The Assyrian sources were meticulously summarized and analysed by Hans-Ulrich Onasch (Onasch 1994) and the political events have been discussed by Anthony Spalinger, Kenneth Kitchen, Louise Gestermann and Danʾel Kahn (Spalinger 1974a; Spalinger 1974b; Kitchen 1986: 391–95; Gestermann 2000; Kahn 2004; Kahn 2006). Based largely on these accounts, we will briefly summarize the historical/political situation. In 674 BCE, Esarhaddon led the first Assyrian campaign to Egypt, which was repelled by the Egyptian army under Taharqa at a place called the Brook of Egypt, which Nadav Naʾaman believed to be the modern Nahal Besor (Naʾaman 1979; Hooker 1993). This campaign was not mentioned in the official Assyrian annals, but is known from the Babylonian Chronicles. After the first unsuccessful campaign, Esarhaddon launched a second in 671 BCE (Spalinger 1974b), mustering his army and probably marching through the Negev and south/central Sinai (instead as along the coastal Via Ma-

194

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

ris) to Egypt (Radner 2008). The Assyrian army conquered the Nile Delta, sacked Memphis, and deported part of Taharqa’s family while the king himself fled to the south, having been wounded in battle. With Lower Egypt under Assyrian control, Esarhaddon imposed a yearly tribute, appointed new officials, and renamed the captured towns (on the question of the annexation of Egypt by the Assyrian king, see Sano 2016). Two years later, in 669 BCE, Esarhaddon again set out for Egypt, but died along the way and his campaign was cancelled. Sensing Assyrian weakness, Taharqa returned to the north and re-captured Memphis. Esarhaddon’s successor Ashurbanipal then set out on two more campaigns to Egypt, the first one in 667 BCE (Spalinger 1974a). As before, Taharqa fled south to Thebes, but this time the Assyrian army followed him and marched along the Nile for 40 days. Taharqa crossed the Nile to Western Thebes, but the Assyrians refrained from taking the city and returned to the north. Taharqa died in 664 BCE and his successor, Tanutamun, ascended to the throne. Tanutamun soon marched north and reconquered Memphis, which resulted in the fifth and probably most severe Assyrian campaign to Egypt, which took place in 664/3 BCE. The Assyrians again captured Memphis, and Tanutamun fled to the south while the Assyrians once more marched up the Nile for 40 days. This time they captured and sacked Thebes and, according to Assyrian sources, took gold, silver, precious stones, cloth, horses, fantastic animals, and even two obelisks back to Nineveh (Desroches Noblecourt 1951). It has been suggested that the Assyrian sack of Thebes was also mentioned in the Hebrew Bible, and some scholars even argued that reflections of this event can be traced in the Iliad, and have thus concluded that it must have indeed been one of the great catastrophes of the ancient world. Indeed, a city called No-Amon is mentioned in the biblical Book of Nahum (Nahum 3:8–9; Schneider 1988; Huddlestun 2003). Within this text, the Assyrian sack of Thebes in 663 BCE is used as an analogy for the Persian-Babylonian sack of Nineveh in 612 BCE. Are you (Nineveh) better than No-Amon (Thebes), situated on the streams (of the Nile), water encircling her; whose (outer) wall is the sea, water her (inner) wall (of defense)? Kush and

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

195

Egypt (were) her strength unending; Put and (the) Libyans were her allies (Huddlestun 2003, 98–99).

While a short reference in the Hebrew Bible should not come as a surprise, ripple-effects of the sack of Thebes in Homer’s Iliad are more astounding. In the 1970s, Walter Burkert argued in an influential article that Iliad verses IX 381–384 should be understood in this light (Burkert 1976). The section in question reads: … not though it were all the wealth that goeth in to Orchomenus, or to Thebes of Egypt, where treasures in greatest store are laid up in men’s houses – Thebes which is a city of an hundred gates wherefrom sally forth through each two hundred warriors with horses and cars … (Murray 1924).

While the passage is not very revealing in terms of historical events, it promotes the notion of Egyptian Thebes as exceptionally rich city. Burkert pointed out that the richness of Thebes most likely refers to the Kushite period and not to Thebes of the New Kingdom, which, according to him, would be too far in the past. Further, he believed that rumour of the splendours of Thebes likely reached the Aegean only after the Assyrian sack, as it was in the aftermath of the plunder that news of Thebes’ richness would have spread throughout the ancient Near East and the eastern Mediterranean (Burkert 1976). While several scholars have agreed with Burkert, and accepted this passage as a distant reflection of the Assyrian sack of Thebes (West 1995, 211; Crielaard 1995, 229), several others have rejected his view (Lloyd 1975, 120–121; Kelly 2006). In summary, we can state that scholars have tried to reconstruct the course of political and military events of the Assyrian invasions of Egypt based on Assyrian written sources. It has been suggested that these events were mentioned in other (later) sources, most probably in the Hebrew Bible, and potentially that notions of the splendour of Thebes reached the Aegean and were thus mentioned in the Iliad. It is mostly based on these sources that scholars have argued for lasting historical effects, in this case as one of the great ‘catastrophes’. 2.2. Assyrian Pictorial Sources: The Zincirli Monument

The historical reconstruction of the political events rests solely on Assyrian and Babylonian sources. Before we present a survey of the

196

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

Egyptian textual sources that might be connected with the Assyrian invasion, and further venture on to potential archaeological sources, we briefly review Assyrian pictorial representations that have been connected with these events. While the above mentioned Lachish reliefs of Sennacherib do in fact add an important layer to the historic reconstruction that help corroborate the accounts from the Assyrian sources and the Hebrew Bible (Ussishkin 1982), the Egyptian campaigns and/or their consequences were not a common topic in the Assyrian pictorial representations that have survived. In fact, only two monuments, the Esarhaddon victory stela from Samʾal (modern Zincirli, Turkey) and a fragmentary relief from the palace of Ashurbanipal in Nineveh have been connected with the events discussed in this paper. After his second campaign to Egypt, Esarhaddon erected a monumental stele in Samʾal that measured more than 3 m high and 1 m wide, and depicted him in a heroic pose, standing before two captives, and accompanied by a detailed inscription. The stela was excavated by the German expedition in the late 19th century CE, and is today in the Vorderasiatisches Museum in Berlin (VA 02708) (von Luschan 1893; Schrader 1893; Orthmann 1975b, fig. 232). One of the bound captives, who is depicted kneeling in front of Esarhaddon, is shown with a uraeus on his forehead, and Felix von Luschan, one of the lead excavators, concluded that this person represents one of the Ethiopian rulers of Egypt. He suggested, based partly on what he called the figure’s “negroid” features but also because the king is mentioned in the text, that this person was Pharaoh Taharqa, who had just been defeated (Luschan 1893, 16). Winfried Orthmann and Kenneth Kitchen have also seen the kneeling figure as a symbolic depiction of Taharqa (Orthmann 1975a, 322 cat.-no. 232; Kitchen 1986, 392), but other scholars have interpreted him as the captured Egyptian crown prince, Ushanhuru (Stevenson Smith 1965, 56; Spalinger 1974b, 303–4; Albenda 1982, 11). Spalinger argued that the kneeling figure cannot have been Taharqa in person, as the king himself was never captured according to written Assyrian sources (Spalinger 1974b, 304 n. 39), and thus interpreted the depiction in a literary way. This is an approach about which we should be cautious. Kahn seems to have followed Spalinger’s position, however, stating that this depiction can be connected with a prayer of Taharqa at

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

197

Karnak (see below): “This is clearly a depiction of one of the sons of Taharqa who are mentioned in line 17 of Taharqa’s prayer” (Kahn 2004, 116). He offers no argument for why the figure is “clearly” one of Taharqa’s sons. The second captive, bound in a similar way as the first, stands in front of the Assyrian king and also raises his hands to the ruler, and possibly represents either Baʿalu, king of Tyre (Luschan 1893, 17; Spalinger 1974b, 304; Kitchen 1986, 392; Kahn 2004, 116) or Abdimilkuti, the ruler of Sidon (Orthmann 1975a, 322 cat.-no. 232). The inscription mentions that Esarhaddon captured and deported part of the royal family from Memphis. It mentions the queen and secondary wives, and specifically notes the name of Taharqa’s son, Ushanhuru, but the inscription mentions Taharqa only in the context of battles and that Esarhaddon injured him several times. Baʿalu is not mentioned at all (Schrader 1893; Borger 1956, 96–100 §65). When it comes to interpreting visual depictions from the ancient Near East and Egypt, one should not forget the messages that the ruler wanted to convey, and by which means this was done. It should be reiterated that we are not dealing with photographs or other forms of immediate depiction, though it can be assumed that scholars are aware of the fact that even photographs can be (mis)used in a propagandistic way if certain angles or viewpoints are selected. We should be even more aware that ancient Near Eastern depictions do not reproduce reality; they were not even meant to reproduce reality. Discussing whether or not the captives shown with Esarhaddon on the Zincirli monument are supposed to represent Taharqa, or one of his sons, or Baʿalu of Tyre, or Abdimilkuti of Sidon, is futile. It is impossible to resolve this issue on current evidence. It is also historically irrelevant, because it does not add any additional information, and we cannot even know if the ancient artist and/or the Assyrian king meant to depict a certain person. What we see is one figure with apparently Egyptian/Ethiopian features wearing a uraeus, and a second figure with what appear to be Syro-Palestinian features. Neither of them are specifically identified. Thus, all we may reasonably conclude is that we are confronted with a depiction of the personifica-

198

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

tion of the Ethiopian rule over Egypt, and a non-specified SyroPalestinian ruler. 2.3. Assyrian Pictorial Sources: Capturing an Egyptian Town

From the so-called Babylonian Room (Room M) in the North Palace of Ashurbanipal in Nineveh comes a relief depicting the siege of an Egyptian fortress, or possibly town. The slab in question is today in the British Museum, but neighbouring slabs were unfortunately lost when the ship transporting them sank in the river Tigris (Hall 1928, 44, pl. 40; Barnett 1976, 47, pl. 36). An additional fragment that probably belongs to the same room is preserved in Marseille (Brunner 1952–1953). The depiction of an Egyptian fortress in Assyrian reliefs is unique, and Hellmut Brunner was the first to comment on this piece from an Egyptological point of view (Brunner 1952–1953). The relief shows a fortress near a river or canal that is under siege by the Assyrian army. Assyrian archers use ladders to storm its walls from both sides, while the defending population can be seen on atop the walls, some of them falling down from the fortifications. Captives from the fortress are shown being led away from the center to the bottom left corner of the relief by Assyrian soldiers, some of whom hold decapitated heads out in triumph. Some have commented on what H. R. Hall referred to as “negroid” features in the depiction of the defending soldiers (Hall 1928, 44; Barnett 1976, 16), which reminded Brunner of von Luschan’s comments on the Zincirli stela and its possible depiction of Taharqa or Ushanhuru (Brunner 1952– 1953, 258). But as Spalinger reminds us (Spalinger 1979, 283 n. 26; Spalinger 1981, 56 and n. 47), Egyptians are depicted as well as Kushites. It is not easy to identify the fortress. While Richard Barnett speculated that it might depict Memphis or Thebes (Barnett 1976, 47), and Yigael Yadin opted for Thebes (Yadin 1963, 462), other scholars have suggested a settlement in the Nile Delta (Spalinger 1981, 56; Schneider 1988, 70). Yet Brunner pointed out that there is nothing that would allow an identification (Brunner 1952–1953, 257–58; Spalinger 1981, 56). Francis Breyer also suggested caution since the scene lacks any explanatory inscriptions, and we cannot even identify the military campaign during which the fortress was besieged (Breyer

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

199

2003, 315). This has not prevented Pauline Albenda opting for the second campaign of Ashurbanipal (Albenda 1982, 14). While the depiction of an Egyptian fortress and its population is of great interest for several reasons, it does not add any information to an historical reconstruction based on Assyrian and Babylonian texts. One issue that might be raised is the apparent imbalance of textual versus pictorial representations, at least when compared to those of the siege of Lachish. The Egyptian campaigns feature prominently in Assyrian sources, and the spoils of war were allegedly enormous, yet we don’t have any depictions outside these two examples that might be linked to the events in question. Conversely, the siege of Lachish is not mentioned specifically in Assyrian texts, but we have a detailed pictorial account of the siege and fall of the city, as well as of the deportation of the population.

3. EGYPTIAN T EXTUAL SOURCES The Assyrian sources form the background against which any Egyptian evidence has been interpreted. It is important to keep this factor in mind, as it is very easy to incorporate vague references in texts into a pre-existing narrative. Egyptian textual sources are almost silent for the period covering the Assyrian invasions. In 1944, Helene von Zeissl still stated: “Und hätten wir nicht die assyrischen Berichte über die Eroberung Ägyptens (…), wir wüßten nicht, daß das Land der Pharaonen von den assyrischen Heeren damals durchzogen wurde, ja, daß Theben, die älteste Weltstadt, ein Opfer dieser Kämpfe wurde” (Zeissl 1944, 34). In total, only four texts exist for which references to the Assyrian invasions have been proposed: a personal prayer by Taharqa inscribed in Karnak (mentioned above), a heavily damaged second text (probably by Taharqa), also found in Karnak, the Dream Stela of Tanutamun, and the biographical inscription of Montemhet, Fourth Prophet of Amun and mayor of Thebes. 3.1. A Personal Prayer by Taharqa from Karnak

A series of blocks bearing an inscription by Taharqa have been related to the Assyrian advance, and some scholars, including Kahn, even suggest that it refers to the capture and abduction of Taharqa’s family and specifically his crown prince, Ushanhuru, during the conquest of Memphis in 671 BCE (Kahn 2004). The blocks in question were

200

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

found on the reverse of the Annals of Thutmose III, adjoining the barque sanctuary in Karnak, and were published first by Pascal Vernus and more recently by Karl Jansen-Winkeln (Vernus 1975; JansenWinkeln 2009, 84–87). The text can be classified as a personal prayer, and in the following, we will quote relevant parts following Kahn’s translation (Kahn 2004). Taharqa opens the prayer by pointing out that Amun entrusted him with the reign over Upper and Lower Egypt: You gave me Upper and Lower Egypt, you chose me among [them and] you [caused] to be said: ‘(These are) my two lands, indeed’. It is according to what he desires, that Amun makes a pharaoh.

After pointing out what Amun had entrusted Taharqa with, he states that the real situation is in fact quite different: You caused me to discover this, namely: He, the one, whom you have caused to enter […] men, who did not know if about me […] It does not belong to me.

Apparently, the real situation was far from ideal. Those who entered did not know about Taharqa’s God-given reign and have been interpreted as Assyrians (Kahn 2004). It is important to stress, however, that nowhere in the text are the Assyrians actually mentioned. Taharqa merely points out that the land does not belong to him, which is contrary to divine will. After pointing out the aberrant truth as opposed to the divine ideal, he requests that Amun takes action, and mentions that Amun is no longer receiving tribute from Syria-Palestine (the reason, however, is not pointed out in the text). Place them all under me … save me from pain, save me from every evil word … Do what no Pharaoh has (ever) done, while I am with you as servant. You will repel for me the […]. There is no one who will keep them away. […] Oh Amun, what I did in the land of Nubia, let […], let me do it with your tribute of Khor (Syria-Palestine) which has been turned aside from you.

Taharqa also requests favours from Amun regarding his family:

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

201

Oh Amun, [… m]y wives, let my children live. Keep death away from them for me. Save me from [… evil words(?)] of their mouths, and turn them over (the evil words?) back on them.

Most scholars have connected this text with the Assyrian advance through western Asia prior to the actual military invasion of Egypt and the fall of Memphis in 671 BCE, pointing out that the missing tribute from Palestine seems to be an indicator (Vernus 1975; Spalinger 1978; Beckerath 1992, 7–8). Kahn accepts that the missing tribute should be linked to ongoing events in the Levant, but goes even further because he understands that Taharqa’s wish for the safety of his wives and children is a reaction to their deportation by the Assyrian army after the capture of Memphis. He argues that Taharqa’s request to Amun to “let my children live” is a direct reference for historical events that have just taken place (Kahn 2004, 117). Breyer had earlier argued that this line most likely refers to the abduction of the royal family by Esarhaddon (Breyer 2003, 234). However, this seems to stretch the evidence too far. It has been noted that the prayer attributed to Taharqa at Karnak is in fact a generic type of prayer that is also known from the Qadesh inscriptions of the reign of Ramses II (Kahn 2004, 121–22 n. 27). Even if the “men” who “entered” could be identified as approaching Assyrians, a general wish for the safety of the royal family would not be unexpected. There is no need to see in this wish a reflection of an historical event, or the Egyptian means of dealing with, or circumscribing, a tragic military defeat. As Spalinger put it in 1978, the text is most likely Taharqa’s explanation to Amun of what had gone wrong abroad (Spalinger 1978, 43). Thus, while it can probably be related to some kind of setback (or maybe even defeat) somewhere else, it does not seem to be a cogent account of the military defeat the Egyptians suffered in 671 BCE. What is most interesting, especially in the framework of Egyptian Königsdogma, is the fact that some kind of defeat was at least acknowledged in this text. The fact that the king himself admits that tribute from Syria is no longer arriving has been stressed by various authors. Because a setback is mentioned in the text, and because this is highly unusual for ancient Egypt, scholars have argued that it reflects an historical fact (Beckerath 1992, 7–8; Schipper 1999, 219).

202

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

The text belongs in the general period of the Assyrian incursions, but to what extent it alludes to those events remains conjectural. While missing tribute from Syria-Palestine might have followed in the wake of increased tensions in the region, one should be very cautious about trying to incorporate every little detail into a preconceived narrative that was reconstructed solely from Assyrian sources. 3.2. Fragmented Stela from Karnak (by Taharqa?)

Another text from Karnak, a fragmented stela most likely belonging to Taharqa’s reign, was also linked by Kahn with the presence of the Assyrian military in Egypt, this time to Ashurbanipal’s campaign of 667 BCE when Assyrian troops first made their way into Upper Egypt and stopped before the walls of Thebes (Kahn 2006, 259). The fragmented and mutilated stela is today in Karnak, but its exact provenance remains undocumented. The stela was partly published by Donald Redford and later in more detail by Jean Revez (Redford 1993; Revez 2003). The stela recounts that the cult of an unnamed god has been violated and that someone has damaged the daily offerings. The text then continues to describe something like a battle, that the author (Taharqa?) provided horses and chariots for an unnamed city, and that enemies marched against him. According to the text, though, the Egyptians were successful, the enemies suffered a severe blow, and in the end were sent fleeing before the triumphant defender(s) (Redford 1993). It ought to be pointed out that no toponyms have survived, the enemy is not mentioned in the extant part of the text, and the king’s name is nowhere included in the text, so that Revez has suggested that the speaker might be the high priest of Amun (Revez 2003), and Redford cautiously argued for a clash with Libyans (Redford 1993). Yet Kahn still tried to link the text with the advancement of the Assyrians under Ashurbanipal in 667 BCE (Kahn 2006, 259). Again, this seems to be stretching the evidence much too far, and is mere speculation. It is simply impossible to link the text to any known historical events. It is not even possible to date this stela precisely, given that neither toponyms nor ethnonyms are mentioned,

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

203

and so incorporating its vague hints into the pre-conceived Assyrian narrative might be tempting, but is ultimately fallacious. 3.3. The Dream Stela of Tanutamun

The most substantial text that has been linked to events around the Assyrian invasions is the so-called Dream Stela of Tanutamun. This text is usually interpreted as reflecting the reconquista of Egypt by Tanutamun following the Assyrian campaign of Ashurbanipal in 667 BCE. The text reports on a prophetic dream attributed to Tanutamun, his enthronement and subsequent reconquest of Egypt, and finally the subjugation of a rebellion in the Nile Delta. The stela was found in 1862 together with three others in the great temple of Amun (Temple B 500) in Gebel Barkal, is today in the Egyptian Museum in Cairo (JE 48863), and has been published several times (Schäfer 1905, 57–77; Grimal 1981; Breyer 2003, 42–44; JansenWinkeln 2009, 236–240). The text itself has been classified as a Königsnovelle (Hermann 1938; Jansen-Winkeln 1993) and has been used by Kahn to reconstruct the historical events of this specific episode (Kahn 2006, 262–63). The first and most important part for our topic is the report of a prophetic dream of Tanutamun. We quote the relevant parts following the translation by Richard Holton Pierce (Eide et al. 1994, 193–209): In regnal year 1, when he was made to appear as king […], His Majesty saw a dream in the night, Two serpents, one on his right, the other on his left. Up woke His Majesty but did not find them. His Majesty said, ‘Why has this happened to me?’ Then reply was made to him, saying, ‘South-land is yours (already), (now) seize for yourself North-land. The Two-Ladies are apparent on your head, And the land shall be given to you in its breadth and its length, There being none other that shall share (it) with you.

After receiving this interpretation of his dream, Tanutamun ascended the throne in Napata and presented offerings to Amun of Napata in

204

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

Gebel Barkal. Afterwards, the king travelled north to Egypt in order to seize his lands, as predicted in his dream: North sailed His Majesty to North-land To see his father, whose name is hidden (even) from the gods. There arrived His Majesty at Elephantine. Then His Majesty sailed across to Elephantine.

At the First Cataract, Tanutamun also presented offerings to the local deity and subsequently continued to travel northwards: North went His Majesty to the city, Dominion (Thebes) of Amun, And His Majesty sailed over into Dominion (Thebes).

In Thebes, the king again presented offerings to the local god, AmunRe, after which he continued his northward journey: North sailed His Majesty to North-land, While the West and the East were shouting songs of joy, as they said, ‘Welcome in peace, your ka being in peace, To make Two-lands live, To raise up (again) the temples that are fallen into ruin, To (re)establish their images to their (former) condition.

Apparently, while sailing north to Memphis (see below), the whole land rejoiced and was looking forward to a land that had fallen to ruin being rebuilt. A few lines are taken up with the people of the land, who enumerate how Tanutamun would restore religious and cosmic order, until we learn about what happened once Pharaoh reached Memphis: There arrived His Majesty at Memphis. Out came the children of rebellion to fight His Majesty. His Majesty made a great blood bath among them, Their number (i.e. of the dead) being unknown

According to the text, Tanutamun found Memphis in an open state of rebellion, but after he killed an unknown number of them, he was able to enter the city and to perform the rites and present the necessary offerings to Ptah-Sokar, much as he did in Elephantine and Thebes. The text continues by describing how Tanutamun built new monu-

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

205

ments for Amun of Napata until we learn of how he continued his journey even further north: Thereafter north sailed His Majesty To fight the chiefs of North-land. Then they went inside their walls [like …] into their holes. So His Majesty spent many days on them, Without a single one of them coming out to fight His Majesty. Southwards sailed His Majesty to White-wall (Memphis) And relaxed in his palace, thinking out plans with his heart, So as to cause his army to go around embankments on them. Then, indeed, His Majesty said [-] one come to report to him, saying, ‘These grandees are come to the place where His Majesty is, [O sovereign], our lord.’ Then His Majesty said, ‘Have they come to fight? (Or) have they come to serve […] me? (If the latter) they shall live from this moment.’ Then they said before His Majesty, ‘They have come to serve, O sovereign, our lord’.

The Dream Stela reports how a region north of Memphis, and thus apparently in the Nile Delta, was in rebellion against the Kushite king. However, the rebels seem to have hidden inside their walls, and so Tanutamun retreated to Memphis. Nevertheless, shortly thereafter, the leader of the rebellion appeared in Memphis and offered his submission. The later part of the stela reports: Forth went His Majesty from his palace … Even as Re radiates from the horizon. He found them placed on their bellies, kissing the ground before him. Then His Majesty said, ‘Look, it is true what he said about me, and it happened. It was the decree of the god that it should happen.’ (…) Then they answered him, saying, ‘Mark you, this god, he has foretold you the beginning, And he has brought about a happy outcome for you. Mark you, the god does not go back on what has come forth

206

FELIX HÖFLMAYER from his mouth, O sovereign, our lord’. (…) Then they replied to him in unison, saying, ‘Grant us life, O lord of life, (for) there is no life without you’. (…) Then His Majesty’s heart was joyful after he heard this speech, And he gave them bread, beer, and every good thing. (…) Then they said before His Majesty, ‘Let us go to our cities That we may command our subjects And bring our dues to the Residence’.

The prophecy of his dream finally fulfilled itself. Tanutamun united the ‘north-land’ and the ‘south-land’, and was able to quell the rebellious Nile Delta. What follows is a description how the whole land subsequently blossomed and thrived: (And from that time on) the southerners have been sailing northwards, The northerners southwards, to the place where His Majesty is, With every good thing of South-land.

Lázló Török rightly pointed out that the northward journey by the king and the campaign against Memphis and the Nile Delta is summarized in clichés (Eide et al. 1994, 209). Pharaoh restores order in the land after the temples had fallen to ruin, he presents offerings to all the local gods in Elephantine, Thebes, and Memphis, and finally the rebels subdue themselves and accept the sole sovereignty of Tanutamun. Kahn argued that the text might reveal a great deal about the political situation of Egypt, as might be reconstructed from Assyrian sources. Tanutamun was able to sail peacefully to Elephantine and Thebes, and only at Memphis and later in the Nile Delta did he face resistance. This circumstance, Kahn concluded, reflected Assyrian rule in Lower Egypt at the time of Tanutamun’s accession to the throne (Kahn 2006, 262). Given the clichéd description of the text, and the fact that it falls into a generic type of ancient Egyptian literature, one should

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

207

probably not take Tanutamun’s journey too literally. Kahn tried to calculate exactly when Tanutamun would have arrived in Thebes and Memphis (Kahn 2006, 263), but it would seem to me that this stretches the rather vague and meagre information contained within the text too far. Even if the resistance he encountered in Memphis and the rebellion in the Nile Delta could be linked with the Assyrian occupation (which is far from proven), the text definitely does not allow one to extrapolate travel times. Nor should the motif of temples in ruins and the reinstatement of religious order be taken too seriously. Kahn takes Tanutamun’s claim of restoring worship and the cults of the Egyptian gods literally and historically because, according to him, they “were evidently neglected during his absence from the country due to the unmentioned Assyrian conquest” (Kahn 2006, 263). However, we have no information that the Egyptian temples were actually in ruins, as the Assyrian sources are silent in this regard. In fact, Kahn might be right to compare the Dream Stela with inter alia the Tempest Stela of Ahmose (Kahn 2006, 263 n. 78), which serves as a literary connection for temples that had been neglected due to the Hyksos period and is an obvious case of propaganda, wholly unsubstantiated by outside evidence (Ryholt 1997, 144; Wiener and Allen 1998; for an interpretation of the Tempest Stela recounting the effects of the Santorini eruption, see: Davis 1990; Ritner and Moeller 2014). Again, we are not dealing with a record of defeat, but rather an Egyptian text that recounts how a newly crowned king finds his land in disarray and reinstates maat and the cosmic order by retaking his land (as, indeed, did Ahmose in the Tempest Stela). Hermann reminds us that such texts should be understood as pieces of literature and not as accurate historical accounts of events that had taken place: “Auch hier werden die Ereignisse—der Zug von Napata über Elephantine nach Theben, die Einnahme von Memphis und der Einfall ins Delta—nicht ‘historisch’ als solche berichtet, sondern die Begebenheit, unbeschadet ihrer möglichen und wahrscheinlichen Geschichtlichkeit, ‘literarisch’ vorgeführt” (Hermann 1938, 8). That said, not everything on the journey north went as the king would have wanted. After capturing Memphis he failed to take the Nile Delta in a coup de main and instead had to retreat to that city. It is interesting to note that without the continuation, this part of the

208

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

text would make it look as if the king had been defeated, something that would not be possible according to Egyptian royal ideology (Breyer 2003, 233). 3.4. The Biographical Inscription of Montemhet

A text by the Fourth Prophet of Amun and mayor of Thebes, Montemhet, found in the temple of Mut in Karnak, has also been linked with the Assyrian conquest of Thebes. The text is inscribed in a side room of the temple and most likely dates to Taharqa’s reign, and inter alia speaks about uprisings in the south (Breasted 1906, 458–65; Wreszinski 1910; Otto 1954, 159–161; Leclant 1961, 193–238; RößlerKöhler 1991, 181–182; Heise 2007, 80–89; Jansen-Winkeln 2009, 197– 203). In the following, we quote a few lines from this inscription based on the translation by James Henry Breasted. I purified all the temples in the nomes of all Patoris, according as one should purify violated temples—after there had been an invasion of unclean foreigners in the Southland.

The temples had become unclean because foreigners invaded Upper Egypt (though it has to be stressed that this part is partly restored). Montemhet purified the temples afterwards. … while the whole land was overturned, because of the greatness of … coming from the South. I satisfied my … coming from … in … in going in and in going out by night and by day … an excellent refuge for my city. I repelled the wretches from the southern nomes … time.

That the land has been overturned is a generic topos in similar texts. The one coming from the south is usually interpreted as Taharqa (Kitchen 1986, 398), but we nevertheless learn that Montemhet successfully defended his city, and was able to quash whatever unrest there was. I restored the august image of ‘Khonsu-in-Thebes-BeautifulRest’ (called): ‘Wearer-of-the-Divine-Diadem,’ with gold and every genuine costly stone. I multiplied their offering-tables of silver, gold, and copper.

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

209

Afterwards we also learn that Montemhet restored many cult images, created works for Amun, Mut, Khonsu, and other gods, and also constructed sacred lakes and extended buildings. Several scholars have argued that the renovations described in the text were necessary due to destructions caused by the Assyrian army as it conquered Upper Egypt, referring to the first time when the Assyrians stood before the gates of Thebes (Wreszinski 1910) (but note that Assyrian sources don’t tell us anything about the capture of Thebes during this campaign). According to Breasted, Ashurbanipal would have captured Thebes during his first campaign, and Montemhet would have restored the temples, “but it all fell a prey to the Assyrians at the second capture of the city” (Breasted 1906, 459). In a similar vein, a few scholars have argued that the upheavals in his text could refer to the Assyrian army (Roeder 1912, 96–98; Wreszinski 1910; Hall 1950, 503). Zeissl has even argued that the uprisings should be interpreted as the Assyrian army conquering Egypt, and that the inscription by Montemhet would be “die einzige ägyptische Quelle, die diese Ereignisse erwähnt, allerdings auch in sehr unklaren Worten und ohne irgendwelche Namen oder genaue Ereignisse zu nennen” (Zeissl 1944, 59). Kitchen was undecided. According to him, the text could refer to the first Assyrian march toward Thebes, but it might also be possible that it simply refers to Egyptian uprisings or tensions of an earlier date (Kitchen 1986, 398). In contrast, Jean Leclant used a rather minimalistic approach. He argued that in fact nothing in the text points to a foreign power conquering Egypt; nothing speaks of plunder or conquest (Leclant 1961, 236). The real culprits remain vague. Indeed, the fact that the text dates to the reign of Taharqa makes it unlikely that the reconstructions the author mentioned could be related to the Assyrian conquest of Thebes, as this conquest only happened during the reign of Tanutamun according to Assyrian sources (Leclant 1961, 236). Thomas Schneider was likewise sceptical in connecting this text with the Assyrians. According to him, the text should be seen within the framework of the “renaissance” of the Kushite kings after the upheavals of the 8th century BCE (Schneider 1988, 70). In summary, it must be stressed that without Assyrian sources we would be unable to make any connections between these vague

210

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

allusions in Egyptian texts and an Assyrian army invading Egypt and sacking Memphis and Thebes. However, this also means that it is all too easy to use the Assyrian texts as a script for the interpretation of Egyptian sources. While the Egyptian texts can, and probably should, be seen in comparison with Assyrian sources, one should not jump too quickly to historical conclusions, and one should definitely refrain from reconstructing a detailed chain of events. The Egyptian textual record cannot support the Assyrian narrative. In order to trace defeat, we have to seek other forms of independent evidence.

4. ARCHAEOLOGICAL SOURCES When tracing defeat in Egyptian textual sources let us down, it may be possible to trace defeat in archaeological ones. Any trace of destruction in Memphis or Thebes, or remains that indicate the presence of the Assyrian army, would be independent confirmation of the events reconstructed on the basis of Assyrian sources. Further, any form of plunder or spoils of war found in the Assyrian homeland could testify to the claims made in those texts. For reference, one could refer to the exceptional case of Lachish, where the Tel Aviv University excavations were indeed able to find traces of the Assyrian siege ramp, and to find parts of Assyrian military gear (Ussishkin 1982; Ussishkin 2004), but in Egypt, it is very difficult to find any evidence of Assyrian invaders in archaeological sources. Ellen Rehm has recently summarized the few pieces that could hypothetically be linked to Assyrian invasions (Rehm 2005). 4.1. Assyrian Objects in Egypt?

In 1896, while working on several temples in Western Thebes, Flinders Petrie discovered several iron and bronze objects in “a brick chamber built against the face of the cutting … below the scarp north of Tausret’s temple” (Petrie 1897, 18; Petrie 1917, pl. 78). One of these objects was a bronze helmet of a non-Egyptian type (Petrie 1897, pl. 22), but which is known from Assyrian depictions. Petrie suggested that “we are led therefore to look to the Assyrian occupation of Thebes by Esarhaddon between 672 and 670 B.C.” (Petrie 1897, 18). Petrie’s interpretation and the link to the Assyrian invasion was accepted by many authors (Hall 1950, 503; Hrouda 1965, 128, 132; Leclant 1965, 181; Schneider 1988, 70; Schipper 1999, 226; Breyer 2003,

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

211

311; Rehm 2005; Petschel and Falck 2004, 139), but others have been a little more cautious and admitted that it could also be later plunder (Partridge 2002, 57). After a detailed examination of the finds, Hermann Amborn argued that they are unlikely to be Assyrian (Amborn 1976, 63–69). While the bronze helmet is indeed known from neo-Assyrian times, the same form can also be traced to later periods (Kunze 1961; Frielinghaus 2011, 69–70), leading Jürgen Borchhardt to cautiously suggest a Persian date (Borchhardt 1972, 100). Even more important are the tools made of iron. While Petrie argued that they came to Egypt with the Assyrian army and found their final resting place in Western Thebes, Amborn showed that these tools made their first appearances only in Hellenistic-Roman times (Amborn 1976, 67), and thus concluded that the hoard found by Petrie dates, at the earliest, from the Ptolemaic Period (Amborn 1976, 69). Another object comes from the early 20th century CE excavations at Abusir, from a Late Period house in the temple compound of Ni-weser-re, and seems to be part of an Assyrian helmet (Pflug 1988, 25; Petschel and Falck 2004, 95–96). Here, in H 3 (House 3), the excavators found part of a metal plume that was originally interpreted as belonging to a Greek helmet from the 6th century BCE (Schäfer 1908, 140–142), but today is rather regarded as coming from an Assyrian helmet, and indeed a very good parallel was found at Tel Lachish during excavations directed by James L. Starkey (Tufnell 1953, 98, pl. 39:1–2; Ussishkin 2014, 314 fig. 15:9). Although the cache of tools found by Petrie is usually referenced when discussing archaeological evidence for Assyrians being present in Egypt, this is far from certain. There are no textual indications that the Assyrian army actually reached Western Thebes, and it remains entirely unclear how the objects ended up in the cache. Therefore, one should refrain from using them as independent evidence for the presence of the Assyrian army. The object from Abusir might indeed have reached Egypt with the Assyrian army, but it remains completely unknown how it entered its final archaeological context. While it might be a remnant of the Assyrian army on Egyptian soil, there are plenty of other possibilities to explain its presence within the Nile Valley. After all, there had been substantial contacts between Egypt and Assyria before the Assyrian invasions, and from textual sources, we know that Egyptians

212

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

were already settled in Assyria during the time of Sennacherib (see below). 4.2. Egyptian Booty in Assyria?

Indirect evidence for the Egyptian defeat might be found in Egyptian objects that came as booty to Western Asia (Thomason 2004, 158). Some vase fragments now in the Istanbul Museum that bear the cartouche of Taharqa were allegedly found in Assur, and could be interpreted as part of the Assyrian booty (Jansen-Winkeln 2009, 184). A fragmentary scarab made of ivory is known from Tell Nimrud, of which Max Mallowan hypothesized that it “was probably a trophy acquired by Esarhaddon” (Mallowan 1966, 441, 472–473, 599, fig. 582; Herrmann 1992, 78 no. 178; Jansen-Winkeln 2009, 185). A bronze lion weight, also in Istanbul, was inscribed by Esarhaddon with the phrase “booty of Egypt and Kush” (Luckenbill 1927, 285), and might also represent plunder from an Assyrian campaign to Egypt. However, these are rather random instances of Egyptian objects that may or may not be related to the transport of booty from the sack of Thebes. It is just as likely that they came earlier to Western Asia as diplomatic gifts, or as part of regular commercial trade. There are, however, three Egyptian statues that were excavated in Nineveh, and that might be interpreted as Egyptian booty carried off from the sack of Thebes or Memphis. Two of them were inscribed with the name of Taharqa and were prominently set up at the entrance gate to the arsenal (Simpson 1954; al-Asil 1954, 110–111, figs. 4–5; Vikentiev 1955; Jansen-Winkeln 2009, 185). A bronze statuette of Anukis was found shortly after these two statues came to light (Edwards 1955; Simpson 1955). The statues of Taharqa have been interpreted as war booty (Leclant 1968, 15; Russell 1998, 241), but William Kelly Simpson also raised the possibility that they were originally erected at a cult place in Syria or Palestine, and therefore that they could be a reflection of an earlier part of the conflict with Egypt (Simpson 1954). Vladimir Vikentiev even suggested the possibility that these statues might have been diplomatic gifts to the Assyrians, from a time prior to the military conflict and the Assyrian campaigns into Egypt (Vikentiev 1955).

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

213

The statuette of Anukis, however, seems to be of non-Egyptian workmanship, and I. E. S. Edwards suggested that it was of Phoenician origin (Edwards 1955). If correct, this statuette should instead be seen in connection with booty from Lebanon that has been found at Assyrian sites. The German excavations at Assur between 1903 and 1914 excavated a substantial number of objects that can probably be classified as booty, among them a significant quantity of Egyptian stone vessels (Bissing 1941; Preusser 1955, 20–23; Onasch 2010). However, most of the pieces are from the Egyptian New Kingdom and most likely date to the late 18th and early 19th Dynasties, and may have reached Mitanni as diplomatic gifts that were later plundered by Adad-Nerari I in the 13th century BCE (Onasch 2010). One vessel bears the Assyrian inscription: “(Besitz des) Palastes des Adad-nērārī I., des Königs der Gesamtheit, Sohn des Arik-dēn-ili, des Königs von Assyrien, Sohn des Enlil-nērārī I., ebenfalls König von Assyrien. Beute aus der Stadt Taidu/Irridu” (Onasch 2010, 22). There are also later vessels that date from the Third Intermediate Period in Egypt, but these don’t seem to have been plundered from Egypt either, but rather to have been looted from Lebanon (Preusser 1955, 20–23; Onasch 2010). One is an alabastron, today in Istanbul, which is inscribed: Palast Asarhaddons, des großen Königs, des mächtigen Königs, des Königs der Gesamtheit, des Königs von Assyrien, des Statthalters von Babylon, des Königs von Sumer und Akkad, der tüchtig ist in Kampf und Schlacht, der seine Feinde niederwirft, des Sohnes von Sanherib, des Königs der Gesamtheit, des Königs von Assyrien, des Sohnes von Sargon, des Königs von Assyrien, des Statthalters von Babylon, des Königs von Sumer und Akkad. Naḫbaṣu-Gefäße gefüllt mit fürstlichem Öl, die ich zusammen mit der ungeheuerlich großen Habe und den unzähligen Besitztümern im Palastschatz des Abdi-Milkutti, des Königs von Sidon, das mitten im Meer liegt, die ich mit Hilfe von Assur, Sin, Šamaš, Bēl, Nabû, der Ištar von Ninive und der Ištar von Arbail, in großer Menge erbeutet habe (Onasch 2010, 72).

It is likely that Egyptian vessels came to Sidon as diplomatic gifts or during regular commerce, some of them during the Late Bronze Age.

214

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

Another indirect way of tracing Egyptian defeat would be to identify Egyptian deportees and/or hostages in Assyria. In the 7th century BCE, more and more Egyptians are mentioned in Assyrian sources, many of whom apparently were deported from Egypt (Oded 1979; Huber 2006; Radner 2009, 223–226; Radner 2012). But we can trace the presence of Egyptians in the Assyrian homeland to before the time of Sennacherib, primarily from legal documents. Karen Radner has suggested that Egyptian hostages can already be traced in Assyrian documents after the battle of Eltekeh (Radner 2012), but it seems that the number of Egyptians increased significantly during the reign of Esarhaddon due to deportations. The German excavations at Assur unearthed an archive that referenced many Egyptian individuals living at Assur in the 7th century BCE (Onasch 1994, 14). This is the so-called Egyptian Archive (N31), and has been published in studies by Veysel Donbaz and Simo Parpola (texts from Istanbul; Donbaz and Parpola 2001) and Betina Faist (texts in Berlin; Faist 2007). Archive N31 covers the years 675 to 612 BCE, but almost all of its texts belong to the period after 650 BCE. One important person in the corpus is a certain Urdu-Aššur, who seems to have been something like a community leader of at least 63 people with Egyptian names and an unknown number with Assyrian names. The texts cover a wide range of everyday life; there are marriage contracts and divorces, house transfers, loans of silver, fish and barley, purchases of people, payments, court decisions, and inventories. At first glance, it seems obvious to interpret the presence of Egyptians in Assur in the light of deportations from Egypt. This interpretation has been cautiously expressed in the literature (Onasch 1994, 13–16; Faist 2003, 151), and Zeissl has argued: “Die Vermutung liegt nahe, daß die Mehrzahl der Ägypter, die in assyrischen Rechtsurkunden und Kriegsgefangenenaufzählungen auftreten, zu dieser Zeit nach Assyrien gebracht wurden” (Zeissl 1944, 38). However, Donbaz and Parpola argue against seeing the Egyptian community as deportees from Egypt, as the earliest text dates to 675 BCE (a marriage contract between two Egyptians) and provides a list of witnesses, all with Egyptian names. In addition, Urdu-Aššur was a wealthy caravan trader in 650 BCE, around 20 years after the fall of Memphis in 671 BCE. Donbaz and Parpola therefore argue that the Egyptian

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

215

community of Assur instead consisted of merchants, and was a form of trade colony that had existed there from earlier times, perhaps as early as the reign of Sargon II (Donbaz and Parpola 2001, xvi). Thus, an archaeological survey of potential Egyptian booty in Assyria does not provide substantial confirmation of the narrative known from the texts. Objects are dispersed and often lack contexts. Egyptians that moved to Assyria could be interpreted as deportees, but some were already settled there before the Assyrian invasions. Only the statues of Taharqa that were prominently set up in the palace at Nineveh are likely to represent spoils of war from the events in question.

5. CONCLUSIONS After reviewing the textual and archaeological evidence, one has to conclude that it is not possible to trace the Assyrian invasion of Egypt and the sacking of Memphis and Thebes from the Egyptian sources alone. One needs Assyrian sources for this narrative. To this observation, one should add several additional thoughts. Assuming that the invasions of Egypt recounted in Assyrian sources are accurate to a reasonable degree, and acknowledging the fact that one cannot trace them from what we know from Egyptian texts or archaeology, one must indeed accept that defeat was a concept foreign to Egypt. But even if Pharaoh is always triumphant, we see that during the Kushite period even royal inscriptions could contain modest hints of self-criticism, which may be traces of actual defeats (albeit not by the Assyrians, who are never mentioned). In the personal prayer by Taharqa, the king admits that for whatever reason the tribute from Syria-Palestine is no longer flowing to Egypt. Bernd Schipper has argued that in a case like this, admitting defeat reflects actual historical facts: “Es war völlig unüblich, Mißerfolge – selbst derart verschleiert – wiederzugeben, so daß der Text trotz der zahlreichen traditionellen Topoi und Redewendungen in seinen anderen Versen hier auf irgendein historisches Faktum Bezug nehmen muß” (Schipper 1999, 219). Breyer argued along similar lines when discussing the Dream Stela, in which Tanutamun was unable to immediately conquer the Nile Delta and had to retreat to Memphis: “derartiges ist sonst nach ägyptischer Vorstellung vom immer

216

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

siegreichen König undenkbar, doch scheint es für die Kuschiten etwas anderes zu sein” (Breyer 2003, 233). It is reasonable to remain cautious when it comes to re-creating the historical narrative, particularly when we only have a single dataset. In this case, almost all of the (sometimes very detailed) historical reconstructions can be traced to what the Assyrians recorded, and we are unable to corroborate the narrative. This is not to say that we should conclude that the Assyrian invasions of Egypt are fictitious, but it should be a warning about how easy it is to tempt scholars into assembling the evidence according to a pre-conceived narrative. Few now would accept Ramesses II’s account of the battle of Kadesh literally, because we have access to the Hittite version, but we should also refrain from taking the Assyrian accounts too literally simply because we do not know the other side. Because temporary occupations, plundering by foreign armies, and the like are not explicitly referenced in any Egyptian texts, it seems appropriate to think about other periods of Egyptian history as well. If we are to accept that Assyrians repeatedly invaded Egypt without any Egyptian reference to such major events, then why should invasions by Asiatics during the late Old Kingdom and First Intermediate Period not be a viable historical model? In the latter case, the Asiatics are even specifically mentioned in Egyptian sources (Jansen-Winkeln 2010). I would not argue for or against any of these models, but we should always be aware of what we don’t know, and the Assyrian invasions of Egypt are a good example because they remind us that a complete historical episode could be entirely missing from textual or archaeological sources. Can we learn anything about that great ‘catastrophe’ of the ancient world, the sack of Thebes, from our sources? Breasted claimed in 1906 that Thebes “was frightfully laid waste” (Breasted 1906, 459), but again this seems to stretch the evidence too far. From Assyrian texts we learn that the city had been plundered, but to what extent remains unknown. From Egyptian sources, we learn nothing at all. Schipper concluded that: “Theben (…) wurde zerstört und geplündert” (Schipper 1999, 224), but had to admit “daß sich in Theben weder tiefgreifende Veränderungen noch größere Zerstörungen nachweisen lassen” (Schipper 1999, 226), and Gestermann pointed out: “In Ägypten selbst gibt es keine positiven Hinweise darauf, daß

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

217

Theben geplündert und sogar zerstört wurde” (Gestermann 2000, 71). Only one Assyrian source mentions the destruction of Thebes, as Gestermann noticed (Gestermann 2000, 68), but she also argued that this ‘destruction’ should probably be understood as metaphorical. Evidence from Thebes shows that there are more signs of continuity than of disruption. All the officials that were in office before the alleged sack of Thebes were still in office afterwards, apparently without significant societal effects (Breyer 2003, 316). The development of tombs on the West Bank of Thebes continued without interruption. In the publications of Diethelm Eigner or Julia Budka, the Assyrian conquest of Thebes is non-existent; it simply cannot be traced in the archaeological record (Eigner 1984; Budka 2010). It is probably better to agree with Schneider that whatever happened in during the so-called sack of Thebes, it is likely that “die assyrische Thebenunternehmung keine großen Umwälzungen in der Stadt nach sich zog” (Schneider 1988, 70). Tracing defeat can be very tricky when the sources fail us. Exploring the impact of defeat is even more difficult. The case of the Assyrian invasion of Egypt serves as a reminder of how little we know, how imbalanced our sources are and, most importantly, how incomplete our archaeological picture can be. Under these circumstances, any attempt to reconstruct a histoire événementielle must remain a futile task, and while it is easy to come up with a beautiful narrative, and to fit vague hints from Egyptian texts into that story, one should at least be aware of exactly what it is: a story.

ABBREVIATIONS VA JE

Vorderasiatisches Museum Berlin Journal d’Entrée (Egyptian Museum Cairo)

BIBLIOGRAPHY al-Asil, Naji 1954. “Editorial Notes and Archaeological Events.” Sumer 10: 107–112. Albenda, Pauline 1982. “Observations on Egyptians in Assyrian Art.” Bulletin of the Egyptological Seminar 4: 5–23.

218

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

Amborn, Hermann 1976. Die Bedeutung der Kulturen des Niltals für die Eisenproduktion im subsaharischen Afrika. Studien zur Kulturkunde 39. Wiesbaden: Franz Steiner Verlag. Assmann, Jan 1983. “Königsdogma und Heilserwartung: Politische und kultische Chaosbeschreibungen in ägyptischen Texten.” In Apocalypticism in the Mediterranean World and the Near East: Proceedings of the International Colloquium on Apocalypticism, Uppsala, August 12-17, 1979, edited by David Hellholm, 345–377. Tübingen: Mohr. Barnett, Richard D. 1976. Sculptures from the North Palace of Ashurbanipal at Nineveh (668-627 B.C.). London: British Museum Publications. Beckerath, Jürgen von 1992. “Ägypten und der Feldzug Sanheribs im Jahre 701 v. Chr.” Ugarit-Forschungen 24: 3–8. Bissing, Wilhelm Freiherr von 1941. “Ägyptische und ägyptisierende Alabastergefäße aus den Deutschen Ausgrabungen in Assur.” Zeitschrift für Assyriologie und Vorderasiatische Archäologie 47: 149–182. Borchhardt, Jürgen 1972. Homerische Helme: Helmformen der Ägäis in ihren Beziehungen zu orientalischen und europäischen Helmen in der Bronze- und frühen Eisenzeit. Mainz am Rhein: Philipp von Zabern. Borger, Riekele 1956. Die Inschriften Asarhaddons Königs von Assyrien. Archiv für Orientforschung Beiheft 9. Graz: Selbstverlag Ernst Weidner. Braudel, Fernand 1990. Das Mittelmeer und die mediterrane Welt in der Epoche Philipps II. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp. Breasted, James H. 1906. Ancient Records of Egypt: Historical Documents from the Earliest Times to the Persian Conquest. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Breasted, James H. 1909. A History of Egypt: From the Earliest Times to the Persian Conquest. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons. Breyer, Francis 2003. Tanutamani: Die Traumstele und ihr Umfeld. Ägypten und Altes Testament 57. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Brunner, Hellmut 1952-1953. “Ein assyrisches Relief mit einer ägyptischen Festung.” Archiv für Orientforschung 16: 253–262.

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

219

Budka, Julia 2010. Bestattungsbrauchtum und Friedhofsstruktur im Asasif: Eine Untersuchung der spätzeitlichen Befunde anhand der Ergebnisse der österreichischen Ausgrabungen in den Jahren 1969–1977. Untersuchungen der Zweigstelle Kairo des Österreichischen Archäologischen Institutes 34. Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften. Burkert, Walter 1976. “Das hunderttorige Theben und die Datierung der Ilias.” Wiener Studien 10: 5–21. Crielaard, Jan P. 1995. “Homer, History and Archaeology: Some Remarks on the Date of the Homeric World.” In Homeric Questions: Essays in Philology, Ancient History and Archaeology, Including the Papers of a Conference Organized by the Netherlands Institute at Athens, Athens, May 15, 1993, edited by Jan P. Crielaard, 201–288, Publications of the Netherlands Institute at Athens 2. Amsterdam: Gieben. Davis, Ellen N. 1990. “A Storm in Egypt During the Reign of Ahmose.” In Thera and the Aegean World III: Proceedings of the Third International Congress, Santorini, Greece 3–9 September 1989, edited by David A. Hardy and Colin Renfrew, 232–235. London: The Thera Foundation. Desroches Noblecourt, Christiane 1951. “Deux grands obélisques précieux d’un sanctuaire à Karnak: Les Égyptiens ont-ils érigé des obélisques d’électrum?” Revue d‘Égyptologie 8: 47–61. Donbaz, Veysel, and Simo Parpola 2001. Neo-Assyrian Legal Texts in Istanbul. Studien zu den Assur-Texten 2. Saarbrücken: SDV Saarbrücker Druckerei und Verlag. Edwards, I. E. S. 1955. “Letter to Dr. Naj al Asil.” Sumer 11: 129. Eide, Tormod, Tomas Hägg, Richard H. Pierce, and Lázló Török, eds. 1994. Fontes Historiae Nubiorum. Textual Sources for the History of the Middle Nile Region between the Eighth Century BC and the Sixth Century AD: Volume I: From the Eighth to the Mid-Fifth Century BC. Bergen: University of Bergen, Department of Classics. Eigner, Diethelm 1984. Die monumentalen Grabbauten der Spätzeit in der thebanischen Nekropole. Untersuchungen der Zweigstelle Kairo des Österreichischen Archäologischen Institutes 6. Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften.

220

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

Faist, Betina 2003. “Sprachen und Schriften in Assur.” In Wiedererstehendes Assur: 100 Jahre deutsche Ausgrabungen in Assyrien, edited by Joachim Marzahn and Beate Salje, 149–156. Mainz am Rhein: Philipp von Zabern. Faist, Betina 2007. Alltagstexte aus neuassyrischen Archiven und Bibliotheken der Stadt Assur. Studien zu den Assur-Texten 3. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag. Farber, Zev I., and Jacob L. Wright, eds. 2018. Archaeology and History of Eighth-Century Judah. Ancient Near East Monographs 23. Atlanta: SBL Press. Frielinghaus, Heide 2011. Die Helme von Olympia: Ein Beitrag zu Waffenweihungen in griechischen Heiligtümern. Olympische Forschungen 33. Berlin, New York: De Gruyter. Gestermann, Louise 2000. “Die Plünderung Thebens durch assyrische Truppen – Eine Randbemerkung aus ägyptologischer Sicht.” In Dankesgabe für Heinrich Schützinger zum 75. Geburtstag dargebracht vom Orientalischen Seminar der Rheinischen Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität Bonn, edited by Peter Nagel, 63–80. Hallesche Beiträge zur Orientwissenschaft 29. Halle (Saale): Institut für Orientalistik, Seminar Christlicher Orient/Byzanz. Grimal, Nicolas 1981. Quatre stèles Napatéennes au musée du Caire JE 48863-48866: Textes et indices. Mémoires de l’Institut français d’archéologie orientale 106. Caire: Institut français d’archéologie orientale. Hall, H. R. 1928. Babylonian and Assyrian Sculpture in the British Museum. Paris, Brüssel: Les Éditions G. van Oest. Hall, H. R. 1950. The Ancient History of the Near East: From the Earliest Times to the Battle of Salamis. London: Methuen & Co. Ltd. Hasegawa, Shuichi, Christoph Levin, and Karen Radner, eds. 2019. The Last Days of the Kingdom of Israel. Berlin, Boston: De Gruyter. Heise, Jens 2007. Erinnern und Gedenken: Aspekte der biographischen Inschriften der ägyptischen Spätzeit. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 226. Fribourg, Göttingen: Academic Press; Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht.

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

221

Hermann, Alfred 1938. Die ägyptische Königsnovelle. Leipziger ägyptologische Studien 10. Glückstadt, Hamburg, New York: J. J. Augustin. Herrmann, Georgina 1992. Ivories from Nimrud (1949-1963) V: The Small Collections from Fort Shalmaneser. London: British School of Archaeology in Iraq. Hooker, Paul K. 1993. “The Location of the Brook of Egypt.” In History and Interpretation: Essays in Honour of John H. Hayes, edited by M. Patrick Graham, William P. Brown, and Jeffrey K. Kuan, 203–214. Journal of the Study of the Old Testament Supplement Series 173. Sheffield: JSOT Press. Hrouda, Barthel 1965. Die Kulturgeschichte des assyrischen Flachbildes. Saarbrücker Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 2. Bonn: Rudolf Habelt Verlag. Huber, Irene 2006. “Von Affenwärtern, Schlangenbeschwörern und Palastmanagern: Ägypter in Mesopotamien des ersten vorchristlichen Jahrtausends.” In Altertum und Mittelmeerraum: Die antike Welt diesseits und jenseits der Levante: Festschrift für Peter W. Haider zum 60. Geburtstag, edited by Robert Rollinger and Brigitte Truschnegg, 303–229. Oriens et Occidens 12. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag. Huddlestun, John R. 2003. “Nahum, Nineveh, and the Nile: The Description of Thebes in Nahum 3:8–9.” Journal of Near Eastern Studies 62: 97–110. Jansen-Winkeln, Karl 1993. “Die ägyptische „Königsnovelle“ als Texttyp.” Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes 83: 101–116. Jansen-Winkeln, Karl 2009. Inschriften der Spätzeit: Teil III: Die 25. Dynastie. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag. Jansen-Winkeln, Karl 2010. “Der Untergang des Alten Reiches.” Orientalia 79: 273–303. Kahn, Danʾel 2004. “Taharqa, King of Kush and the Assyrians.” Journal of the Society for the Study of Egyptian Antiquities 31: 109–128. Kahn, Danʾel 2006. “The Assyrian Invasions of Egypt (673-663 B.C.) and the Final Expulsion of the Kushites.” Studien zur altägyptischen Kultur 34: 251–267.

222

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

Kelly, Adrian 2006. “Homer and History: „Iliad“ 9.381-4.” Mnemosyne 59: 321–333. Kitchen, Kenneth A. 1986. The Third Intermediate Period in Egypt (1100-650 B.C.). Warminster: Aris & Phillips. Kunze, Emil 1961. “Ein Bronzehelm aus der Perserbeute.” In VII. Bericht über die Ausgrabungen in Olympia: Frühjahre 1956 bis 1958, edited by E. Kunze, 129–137. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter. Lamprichs, Roland 1995. Die Westexpansion des neuassyrischen Reiches: Eine Strukturanalyse. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 239. Kevelaer, Neukirchen-Vluyn: Butzon & Bercker; Neukirchener Verlag. Leclant, Jean 1961. Montouemhat: Quatrième prophète d’Amon. Prince de la ville. Bibliothèque d’étude 35. Le Caire: Imprimerie de l’institut français d’archéologie orientale. Leclant, Jean 1965. Recherches sur les monuments Thébains de la XXVe dynastie dite Éthiopienne. Bibliothèque d’étude 36. Le Caire: Imprimerie de l’institut français d’archéologie orientale. Leclant, Jean 1968. “Les relations entre l’Egypte et la Phénicie du voyage d’Ounamon à l’expedition d’Alexandre.” In The Role of the Phoenicians in the Interaction of Mediterranean Civilizations: Papers Presented to the Archaeological Symposium at the American University of Beirut; March, 1967, edited by William A. Ward, 9–31. Beirut: The American University of Beirut. Lloyd, Alan B. 1975. Herodotus Book II: Introduction. Études préliminaires aux religions orientales dans l’empire romain 43. Leiden: E. J. Brill. Luckenbill, Daniel D. 1927. Ancient Records of Assyria and Babylonia: Volume II: Historical Records of Assyria from Sargon to the End. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Luschan, Felix von 1893. “Monolith des Asarhaddon.” In Ausgrabungen in Sendschirli I: Einleitung und Inschriften, edited by Orient-Comité zu Berlin, 11–29. Mittheilungen aus den Orientalischen Sammlungen 9. Berlin: W. Spemann. Mallowan, Max E. L. 1966. Nimrud and its Remains. London: Collins. Morkot, Robert G. 2000. The Black Pharaohs: Egypt’s Nubian Rulers. London: Rubicon Press.

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

223

Morkot, Robert G. 2019. “The End of the Kingdom of Israel: A View from the Nile Valley.” In The Last Days of the Kingdom of Israel, edited by Shuichi Hasegawa, Christoph Levin, and Karen Radner, 125–144. Berlin, Boston: De Gruyter. Murray, A. T. 1924. Homer: The Iliad: Volume I: Books 1-12. Loeb Classical Library 170. London, New York: William Heinemann; G. P. Putnam’s Sons. Naʾaman, Nadav 1979. “The Brook of Egypt and Assyrian Policy on the Border of Egypt.” Tel Aviv 6: 68–90. Oded, Bustenay 1979. Mass Deportations and Deportees in the NeoAssyrian Empire. Wiesbaden: Dr. Ludwig Reichert. Onasch, Hans-Ulrich 1994. Die assyrischen Eroberungen Ägyptens. Ägypten und Altes Testament 27. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Onasch, Hans-Ulrich 2010. Ägyptische und assyrische Alabastergefäße aus Assur. Wissenschaftliche Veröffentlichungen der Deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft 128. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Orthmann, Winfried 1975a. “Babylonisch-assyrische Rundplastik.” In Der Alte Orient, edited by Winfried Orthmann, 288–298. Propyläen Kunstgeschichte 14. Berlin: Propyläen Verlag. Orthmann, Winfried, ed. 1975b. Der Alte Orient. Propyläen Kunstgeschichte 14. Berlin: Propyläen Verlag. Otto, Eberhard 1954. Die biographischen Inschriften der ägyptischen Spätzeit: Ihre geistesgeschichtliche und literarische Bedeutung. Probleme der Ägyptologie 2. Leiden: Brill. Partridge, Robert B. 2002. Fighting Pharaohs: Weapons and Warfare in Ancient Egypt. Manchester: Peartree Publishing. Petrie, William M. F. 1897. Six Temples at Thebes: 1896. London: Bernard Quaritch. Petrie, William M. F. 1917. Tools and Weapons: Illustrated by the Egyptian Collection in University College, London, and 2,000 Outlines from Other Sources. British School of Archaeology in Egypt and Egyptian Research Account 22. London: British School of Archaeology in Egypt. Petschel, Susanne, and Martin von Falck, eds. 2004. Pharao siegt immer: Krieg und Frieden im Alten Ägypten: Gustav-LübckeMuseum Hamm 21. März – 31. Oktober 2004. Bönen: Kettler. Pflug, Hermann 1988. “Griechische Helme geometrischer Zeit.” In Antike Helme: Sammlung Lipperheide und andere Bestände

224

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

des Antikenmuseums Berlin, edited by Angelo Bottini, Markus Egg, Friedrich-Wilhelm von Hase, Hermann Pflug, Ulrich Schaaff, Peter Schauer, and Götz Waurick, 11–26. RömischGermanisches Zentralmuseum Monographien 14. Mainz: Verlag des Römisch-Germanischen Zentralmuseums. Preusser, Conrad 1955. Die Paläste in Assur. Wissenschaftliche Veröffentlichungen der Deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft 66. Berlin: Gebrüder Mann Verlag. Radner, Karen 2008. “Esarhaddon’s Expedition from Palestine to Egypt in 671 BCE: A Trek through Negev and Sinai.” In Fundstellen: Gesammelte Schriften zur Archäologie und Geschichte Altvorderasiens ad honorem Hartmut Kühne, edited by Dominik Bonatz, Rainer M. Czichon, and Florian J. Kreppner, 305– 314. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag. Radner, Karen 2009. “The Assyrian King and his Scholars: The Syro-Anatolian and the Egyptian Schools.” In Of God(s), Trees, Kings, and Scholars: Neo-Assyrian and Related Studies in Honour of Simo Parpola, edited by Mikko Luukko, Saana Svärd, and Raija Mattila, 221–238. Studia Orientalia 106. Helsinki: Finnish Oriental Society. Radner, Karen 2012. “After Eltekeh: Royal Hostages from Egypt at the Assyrian Court.” In Stories of Long Ago: Festschrift für Michael D. Roaf, edited by Heather D. Baker, Kai Kaniuth, and Adelheid Otto, 471–479. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 397. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag. Redford, Donald B. 1993. “Taharqa in Western Asia and Libya.” Eretz Israel 24: 188*–191*. Rehm, Ellen 2005. “„Auf zu den Ufern des Nils“: Vorderasiatica in Ägypten im 1. Jahrtausend v. Chr.” Ugarit-Forschungen 37: 491– 516. Revez, Jean 2003. “Une stèle inédite de la Troisième Période Intermédiaire à Karnak: Une guerre civile en Thébaïde?” Cahier de Karnak 11: 535–565. Ritner, Robert K., and Nadine Moeller 2014. “The Ahmose ‘Tempest Stela’, Thera and Comparative Chronology.” Journal of Near Eastern Studies 73: 1–19.

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

225

Roeder, Günther 1912. Aus dem Leben vornehmer Ägypter: Von ihnen selbst erzählt. Voigtländers Quellenbücher 17. Leipzig: R. Voigtländers Verlag. Rößler-Köhler, Ursula 1991. Individuelle Haltungen zum ägyptischen Königtum der Spätzeit: Private Quellen und ihre Königswertung im Spannungsfeld zwischen Erwartung und Erfahrung. Göttinger Orientforschungen 4. Reihe Ägypten 21. Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz. Russell, John M. 1998. The Final Sack of Nineveh: The Discovery, Documentation, and Destruction of King Sennacherib’s Throne Room at Nineveh, Iraq. New Haven, London: Yale University Press. Ryholt, Kim S. B. 1997. The Political Situation in Egypt During the Second Intermediate Period: c. 1800-1550 B.C. Carsten Niebuhr Institute Publications 20. Kopenhagen: Museum Tusculanum Press. Ryholt, Kim S. B. 2004. “The Assyrian Invasion of Egypt in Egyptian Literary Tradition: A Survey of the Narrative Source Material.” In Assyria and Beyond: Studies Presented to Mogens Trolle Larsen, edited by J. G. Dercksen, 483–510. Nederlands Instituut voor het Nabije Oosten. Sano, Katsuji 2016. “Die Eroberungen von Ägypten durch Asarhaddon und Aššurbanipal.” Ugarit-Forschungen 47: 251–263. Schäfer, Heinrich 1905. Urkunden der älteren Äthiopenkönige I: Siegesinschrift des Pianchi – Traumstele – Bruchstück Berlin 1068. Urkunden des ägyptischen Altertums III Heft 1. Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs’sche Buchhandlung. Schäfer, Heinrich 1908. Ausgrabungen der Deutschen OrientGesellschaft in Abusir 1902-1904 Band 2: Priestergräber und andere Grabfunde vom Ende des Alten Reiches bis zur griechischen Zeit vom Totentempel des Ne-User-Rê. Wissenschaftliche Veröffentlichungen der Deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft 8. Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs’sche Buchhandlung. Schipper, Bernd U. 1999. Israel und Ägypten in der Königszeit: Die kulturellen Kontakte von Salomo bis zum Fall Jerusalems. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 170. Freiburg, Göttingen: Universitätsverlag; Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht.

226

FELIX HÖFLMAYER

Schneider, Thomas 1988. “Nahum und Theben: Zum topographisch-historischen Hintergrund von Nah 3,8f.” Biblische Notizen 44: 63–73. Schrader, Eberhard 1893. “Inschrift Asarhaddon’s, Königs von Assyrien.” In Ausgrabungen in Sendschirli I: Einleitung und Inschriften, edited by Orient-Comité zu Berlin, 30–43. Mittheilungen aus den Orientalischen Sammlungen 9. Berlin: W. Spemann. Simpson, William K. 1954. “The Pharaoh Taharqa.” Sumer 10: 193– 194. Simpson, William K. 1955. “Letter to Dr. Naji al Asil.” Sumer 11: 131– 132. Spalinger, Anthony J. 1974a. “Assurbanipal and Egypt: A Source Study.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 94: 316–328. Spalinger, Anthony J. 1974b. “Esarhaddon and Egypt: An Analysis of the First Invasion of Egypt.” Orientalia 43: 295–326. Spalinger, Anthony J. 1978. “The Foreign Policy of Egypt Preceding the Assyrian Conquest.” Chronique d’Égypte 53: 22–47. Spalinger, Anthony J. 1979. “The Military Background of the Campaign of Piye (Piankhy).” Studien zur altägyptischen Kultur 7: 273–301. Spalinger, Anthony J. 1981. “Notes on the Military in Egypt during the XXVth Dynasty.” Journal of the Society for the Study of Egyptian Antiquities 11: 37–58. Stevenson Smith, William 1965. Interconnections in the Ancient Near East: A Study of the Relationships Between the Arts of Egypt, the Aegean, and Western Asia. New Haven, London: Yale University Press. Thomason, Allison K. 2004. “From Sennacherib’s Bronzes to Taharqa’s Feet: Conceptions of the Material World at Nineveh.” Iraq 66: 151–162. Tufnell, Olga 1953. Lachish III (Tell Ed-Duweir): The Iron Age. The Wellcome-Marston Archaeological Research Expedition to the Near East 3. London, New York, Toronto: Oxford University Press. Ussishkin, David 1982. The Conquest of Lachish by Sennacherib. Tel Aviv: Tel Aviv University.

ASSYRIA IN EGYPT

227

Ussishkin, David, ed. 2004. The Renewed Archaeological Excavations at Lachish (1973-1994). Tel Aviv University. Sonia and Marco Nadler Institute of Archaeology. Monograph Series 22. Tel Aviv: Emery and Claire Yass Publications in Archaeology. Ussishkin, David 2014. Biblical Lachish: A Tale of Construction, Destruction, Excavation and Restoration. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society; Biblical Archaeology Society. Vernus, Pascal 1975. “Inscriptions de la Troisième Période Intermédiaire (I).” Bulletin de l’Institute français d’archéologie orientale du Caire 75: 1–66. Vikentiev, Vladimir 1955. “Quelques considerations a propos des statues de Taharqa trouvees dans les ruines du palais d’Esarhaddon.” Sumer 11: 111–114. West, Martin L. 1995. “The Date of the “Iliad”.” Museum Helveticum 52: 203–219. Wiener, Malcolm H., and James P. Allen 1998. “Separate Lives: the Ahmose Stela and the Theran Eruption.” Journal of Near Eastern Studies 57: 1–28. Wreszinski, Walter 1910. “Die Inschriften des Monthemhet im Tempel der Mut.” Orientalistische Literaturzeitung 13: 385–399. Yadin, Yigael 1963. The Art of Warfare in Biblical Lands: in the Light of Archaeological Study. New York, Toronto, London: McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc. Zamazalová, Silvie 2011. “Before the Assyrian Conquest in 671 B.C.E.: Relations between Egypt, Kush and Assyria.” In Egypt and the Near East – the Crossroads: Proceedings of an International Conference on the Relations of Egypt and the Near East in the Bronze Age, Prague, September 1–3, 2010, edited by Jana Mynářová, 297–328. Prague: Charles University. Zeissl, Helene von 1944. Äthiopen und Assyrer in Ägypten: Beiträge zur Geschichte der ägyptischen „Spätzeit“. Ägyptologische Forschungen 14. Glückstadt, Hamburg: J. J. Augustin.

AFTER THE FLAMES DIED DOWN: DEFEAT, DESTRUCTION, AND FORCED ABANDONMENT IN THE BRONZE AND IRON AGE LEVANT IGOR KREIMERMAN ABSTRACT Destruction layers dominate the stratigraphy of the major occupation mounds in the Levant. At first glance, one might consider the presence of these layers to be nothing out of the ordinary. After all, many military campaigns, revolts and natural disasters are known from the literary sources. However, when the archaeological evidence is examined in the light of the literary sources it appears that destruction was not a necessary outcome of conquest. Rather, the destruction of a city was the consequence of a premeditated and well-planned decision. A careful examination of a destruction layer may sometimes shed light on the goals that the conqueror intended to achieve by destroying the city. One of the most prominent cases is when cities were destroyed with intent to force their long-term abandonment. This chapter will examine the response to destruction with intent to prevent future habitation within the context of the Bronze and Iron Age Southern Levant. Two main response strategies might be discerned archaeologically. The first is compliance with the will of the conqueror. In these cases, the cities were left for good and present an occupation gap. A second strategy, is resistance. In these examples despite the attempt to force the residents out of the city, the same people returned and reconstructed the city. 229

230

IGOR KREIMERMAN

1. INTRODUCTION Discussing cultural responses to defeat from an archaeological point of view is a difficult task. This is mainly as defeat is, to a large extent, a matter of perception. At times, both sides in ancient conflicts agreed about the outcomes of war. For instance, the destruction of Jerusalem in 586 BCE was seen both by the Babylonians and by the Judeans as a Babylonian victory and Judean defeat (Malmat 1968; Betlyon 2003). However, frequently, there was a disagreement between the parties. For example, Sennacherib’s famous campaign in Judah in 701 BCE is represented in his inscriptions and reliefs as a great victory (e.g. Grayson and Novotny 2012, 55–69; 2014, 64–73, 74–88; Ussishkin 1982). The Hebrew Bible, on the other hand, presented the fact that Hezekiah remained on his throne and that Jerusalem did not fall as a great miracle and a divinely granted victory over the Assyrians (2 Kings 18:13–19:37; Isaiah 36–39; 2 Chronicles 32:1–23). This view appears not only in the Hebrew Bible but also in later Jewish tradition, where Hezekiah’s actions were seen as a model for successful resistance against large imperial forces (Gregory 2009; Oegema 2014).1 Different voices and ideological interpretations regarding defeat and its influence on the defeated society might therefore be best studied on the basis of written sources, especially those that mention the views of the people in the past on the events. Numerous studies have discussed the ways in which defeat was, and is, perceived, its political and religious implications, how it shaped cultural memory, and the role it played in the formation of nations (Cheung 1998; Wolpert 2002; Schivelbusch 2003; Wright 2009; Clark 2014; Boase and Frechette 2016; Paolo 2016; Ginio 2016; Macleod 2008). However, an archaeologist interested in studying defeat finds him- or herself in a bind: there is no such thing in archaeology as a ‘defeat layer’; in other words, the fact that a defeat took place is something that must be deduced. The closest archaeological term to ‘defeat’ in meaning, 1 Clearly, other views existed at that time even within the Judean society. Perhaps some of the Jerusalem elites were indeed satisfied with the results, and especially with the fact that they escaped deportation, others and especially those who were deported or whose houses were burned, perhaps did not see the outcome as positive.

AFTER THE FLAMES DIED DOWN

231

and also the departure point of this paper, is destruction. A destruction layer is well defined archaeologically, usually referring to an occupational layer showing (1) extensive evidence of fire in areas that cannot be associated with industrial or domestic activities or (2) many restorable vessels and other finds on the floors of structures (Finkelstein 2009, 113; Kreimerman 2017a, 176). The interpretation of the archaeological evidence on defeat is not straightforward for several reasons. First, as mentioned, defeat is a matter of perception. Thus, in the case of Sennacherib’s campaign, if the Assyrian point of view is adopted, then the destruction of Level III at Lachish should be seen as an archaeological evidence of a Judean defeat, whereas if the Judean view is adopted, perhaps this destruction is actually evidence of a calculated Judean sacrifice that led to a victory. So the choice of relevant archaeological layers for the study, and their interpretation depends on the interpretation of literary sources. Needless to say, this task is especially difficult when there is no relevant literary evidence. The second problem is that the defeat of one side cannot be seen in isolation from the victory of the other side. If one follows Clausewitz’s view, a victory usually involves the imposition of the victor’s will over the losing side (Clausewitz 1976, 75–76). But in many cases we may not know what the victor’s will was. Without an answer to this question, it is difficult to understand what the response of the defeated side to the demands of the subjugator was. For instance, sometimes a conqueror might want conquered cities to be restored and pay tax. Alternatively, he might be interested in driving out the city’s population and laying the land in desolation. Thus, in the first case, destruction followed by reconstruction should be seen as compliance by the defeated side with the victor’s will, while in the second case the same archaeological evidence should be seen as an act of resistance. Finally, and this is probably the greatest challenge, destruction layers need not be a result of warfare. Destruction could be also an outcome of natural disasters and accidents (Stiros 1996; Driessen and Macdonald 1997; Nur 2008; Sintubin 2011), internal tensions between residents (Africa 1971; Slot 1976) or ritual burial of buildings (Bjorkman 1999; Zuckerman 2007). It is not simple to identify the cause of destruction of a specific layer. In Lachish III the archaeological evidence clearly demonstrates that the city was conquered by a

232

IGOR KREIMERMAN

military assault (Tufnell 1953, 45–56; Gottlieb 2004; Ussishkin 1982; Ussishkin 2004d; Ganor and Kreimerman 2019), and we therefore can safely conclude that the layer represents a defeat, even if only tactical. Indeed, in the presence of numerous arrowheads or skeletons with clear signs of trauma caused by sharp objects it is easy to infer that the destruction is a result of warfare. However, these cases are rare. In most destruction layers, even those traditionally attributed to military campaigns, there are only few long-range weapons in the destruction debris, if any (Kreimerman 2016). Furthermore, in the context of warfare, usually cities were cleaned of bodies before they were put to the torch (Kreimerman 2017b). Most destruction layers, even those attributed to military campaigns on the basis of historical sources, present only evidence of fire in some areas, accompanied by a wealth of finds inside the debris. Thus, for most destruction layers there is no direct, unequivocal archaeological evidence that could prove that they were destroyed as part of warfare. Although there is no way to know the cause of destruction for most archaeological layers, sometimes indirect evidence might be used to infer warfare-induced destruction. One such case is of cities that were thoroughly burnt. Most Bronze and Iron Age structures in the Levant were built of stone foundations with mud-brick superstructure. Roofs were built of wooden beams and then covered with vegetal matter and clay. Such structures are difficult to ignite, and this has to be done from the inside (Gordon 1953; Kreimerman and Shahack-Gross 2019). Consequently, it is highly unlikely that a city would burn completely as a result of an accident or a natural disaster. Furthermore, in the vast majority of cases, whenever a city was thoroughly burned, it was also abandoned, aside from some activity by squatters (Kreimerman 2017a; Kreimerman in press). Thus, it might be assumed that the total burning of a city was intended to drive out its population. Evidence connecting a city’s destruction with an intention to drive out the population can also be found in literary sources from the ancient Near East (Kreimerman in press). Taking all the above clues in conjunction leads to the conclusion that if a city was thoroughly burned, it was the result of a planned decision to depopulate the site. Therefore, when an archaeological layer is extensively excavated and shows evidence of fire in all excavated areas, it is likely that the destruction was the result of conflict.

AFTER THE FLAMES DIED DOWN

233

If the above conclusion is accepted, then the number of destruction layers that can be associated with conflict is higher than that of layers containing direct evidence of battle. Furthermore, the complete burning of a city supplies us with another valuable insight: the goal of destruction (to depopulate the city). Thus, such destruction layers can serve as a basis for investigating and discussing short-term responses to defeat in the Bronze and Iron Age southern Levant. This study is concerned only with destruction layers that involve the complete burning of a city. This act of destruction is seen as the practical implementation of the victor’s will in respect to the defeated city, which it is assumed, following the arguments above, was to eliminate the urban nature of the city and to depopulate the site. Clearly, this means that victory here is discussed in a localised sense. So, for instance, in Sennacherib’s case, the destruction of Lachish III is seen as a Judean defeat, even if the kingdom of Judah survived and the result of the entire Assyrian campaign could thus be interpreted as a Judean victory. The activities that take place at such a site immediately after destruction are therefore seen as potentially being responses to defeat. The main goal of this study is to examine to what extent the defeated parties complied with the immediate, localized will of the victor and, conversely, to which extent and under what conditions they resisted. Medium- or long-term impacts of defeat are therefore not examined in this paper. Similarly, phenomena such as the movement of refugees to other places or the survival of communities of exiles are not addressed, as they take place outside the destroyed sites. The post-destruction activities that fall within this scope can be split into two groups on the basis of their scale: 1. Minor reconstructions: these activities are characterised by low energy expenditure and consist mainly of cleaning and reuse of destroyed buildings, digging of pits, and the construction of ephemeral structures of domestic nature. 2. Major reconstructions: these activities are characterised by highenergy expenditure and consist of the construction of new, wellbuilt structures, including buildings of public nature.

234

IGOR KREIMERMAN

Both of the groups cover a variety of cases, and the purpose of the survey below is to demonstrate the plethora of different fates of the ruined cities in the Bronze and Iron Age Southern Levant (for sites mentioned in the text see Fig. 1). At the same time, of course, this survey is far from exhaustive, and the subdivision into the above groups is somewhat artificial and intended mainly to simplify the discussion of the topic. Once again, only cities that were burnt completely are included in the survey below.

Figure 1: Sites mentioned in the text

2. MINOR RECONSTRUCTIONS Many cities that were thoroughly burned show an occupation gap, with no immediate post-destruction phase of activity. The observation that no post-destruction activities took place is based on the absence of evidence; thus, to confidently identify such a case, the extent of the excavation has to be large and of adequate quality. One

AFTER THE FLAMES DIED DOWN

235

such example is Khirbet al-Batrawy, a 4 ha fortified Early Bronze Age town in the upper Wadi az-Zarqa in Jordan. The excavation of the town revealed a fortification system composed of three lines of city walls enclosing the town and a gate. Inside the town a temple, domestic structures and a building identified by the excavators as “The Palace of the Copper Axes” were exposed (Nigro 2013). The extensive excavations demonstrated that the process of the destruction of the last phase of the city, dated to the Early Bronze Age IIIB, was complex. Some structures were abandoned and cleared of objects prior to the destruction (Nigro 2012, 178–183). In Building B1 (part of the Palace of the Copper Axes) some of the openings were blocked (Nigro 2017, 165). The town was destroyed by a great fire, evidence of which is seen through the entire excavated area, and most of the structures were found with numerous objects in the debris (Nigro 2006, 73–75, 109–116, 158–164, 175–196; Nigro 2008, 21–26, 68–72, 100–102, 137–143, 151–163, 275–292; Nigro 2012, 17–27, 31, 46–52, 158– 188; Nigro and Sala 2011; Nigro and Sala 2012; Gallo 2014). Following the destruction, the site was abandoned for at least 100 years (Gallo 2014, 158–160; Nigro 2017, 165–166); no construction or pits were attributed to the timespan between the destruction of the Early Bronze IIIB town and the foundation of the Early Bronze IVB village. Sometimes the post-destruction phase is characterized mainly by pits and installations, with no residential structures. The clearest case is that of Level VI at Megiddo. In the Iron Age IB, Megiddo was a major Canaanite center about 12 ha in size. It was densely built, and in addition to numerous domestic structures, also exposed have been a large monumental structure (Building 2072), a gate complex, and a temple (Harrison 2004). The Canaanite city suffered one of the most violent destructions of the entire region and period. Although there is no direct evidence of battle, such as long-range weapons, in any location where the destruction level was reached it showed clear evidence of fire, with thick destruction debris (Schumacher 1908, 85–90; Harrison 2004; Ilan, Franklin, and Hallote 2000; Gadot et al. 2006; Gadot and Yasur-Landau 2006; Sass and Cinamon 2006; Finkelstein 2009; Arie 2013, 253–257; Cline and Samet 2013, 275; Franklin 2013; Zarzecki-Peleg 2016, 13–21). Several hoards were also found in the city, suggesting that some of the inhabitants fled rapidly (Schumach-

236

IGOR KREIMERMAN

er 1908, 88–89; Loud 1948, 150; Yadin 1970, 77–79; Zarzecki-Peleg 2016, 305–317; Yahalom-Mack et al. 2017, 66–69). Furthermore, in Area CC of the Oriental Institute excavations and in Area K of the Tel Aviv University excavations, some skeletons were found. While a few were lying in the destruction debris, seemingly crushed by the collapse (Harrison 2004; Gadot et al. 2006, fig. 97; Nagar 2006, tab. 22.1), others had been reburied either completely or partially within the debris (Harrison 2004, 20, figs. 73, 75–76, 84–87, 95). Aside from this evidence, only some cooking installations, pits, and robber trenches could be associated with the post-destruction phase (Lehmann, Killebrew, and Gadot 2000, 126–128; Gadot et al. 2006, 101). No attempt to return and reconstruct the previous structures was observed, nor any other architectural remains. Squatters sometimes resettle isolated buildings, in many cases those that had a public function in the previous period. This is probably because these were often the best preserved structures and those easiest to recognise amidst the rubble. One such example is the Middle Bronze Age Palace at Lachish. Lachish was probably a prominent city in the Middle Bronze Age. Although it was excavated to a limited extent, in every area where it was reached a thick destruction layer with evidence of fire and restorable pottery was found (Tufnell 1958, 48; Ussishkin 2004a, 55–57; Ussishkin 2004e, 152–160; Streit et al. 2018, 263–265; Garfinkel et al. 2019b). A post-destruction phase was identified only in the palace, where on top of the destruction of Level P-4 a phase of domestic and industrial activities was recognized (Level P-3). In this phase, some of the rooms were partially cleaned and floors were laid above the destruction debris. Rounded mudbrick installations were built in some of the rooms. Ephemeral walls were also built in the former courtyard. Later, the palace was abandoned, and the subsequent Late Bronze Age levels were built following a new plan (Ussishkin 2004a, 56–57; Ussishkin 2004e, 160–168; Streit et al. 2018, 263–265). Another example is the Level III inner city-gate of Lachish. After the conquest and destruction of the city in 701 BCE by Sennacherib, the north-western chamber of the six chamber gate was reused for domestic purposes. As the floor of this architectural unit was above the destruction debris of Level III and below the foundations of the city wall of Level II, it must have been built in an intermediate

AFTER THE FLAMES DIED DOWN

237

phase between the levels (Ussishkin 2004b, 652, figs. 12:39–40).2 Notably, the exact dating of this phase is unclear, but as the pottery is similar to that of Level III, it is likely that the gate chamber was reoccupied not too long after the destruction of Level III. Sometimes reconstruction was more widespread. Tell Ḥalif was a small fortified rural town during the Iron Age IIB. The excavations of the mound revealed domestic structures, best preserved in Fields II, III, and IV. The destruction of the settlement of Stratum VIB was overwhelming; evidence of fire was found in the vast majority of architectural units (Blakely and Hardin 2002, 24; Hardin 2010, 124– 160; Cole 2015, 33–36). Most of the units that did not show such evidence were open areas or only partially excavated, so their function is unclear. Many arrowheads and sling-stones were found across the stratum (Cole 2015, 33–34). The pottery and especially the lmlk stamped jar handles indicate that the destruction should be associated with Sennacherib’s campaign (Seger 1983, 15–16; Borowski 2005; Hardin 2010, 93). Stratum VIA at Tell Ḥalif represents the reconstruction of some but not all the domestic structures at the site. Some rooms were cleaned and reused, and new installations were built. The result was a scattered reoccupation of the settlement. As the pottery of this phase is similar to that of Stratum VIB, it is assumed that the settlement was short lived (Blakely and Hardin 2002, 24; Hardin 2010, 93, 111; Cole 2015, 33–36).

3. MAJOR RECONSTRUCTIONS Sometimes the reoccupation of a site after its violent destruction included a clear investment of effort and planning. The settlements retained their previous urban nature, the fortifications were reconstructed, and some public buildings were rehabilitated. Here, two different types of case studies can be outlined. The first is that of sites Note that an earlier stage of the expedition attributed more architectural elements to this phase (Ussishkin 1978, 64), but eventually the researchers re-interpreted their finds and claimed that only one chamber in the gate shows post-destruction architecture and finds (Ussishkin 1983, 133–134; Ussishkin 2004a, 90–91; Ussishkin 2004b, 652).

2

238

IGOR KREIMERMAN

that follow the plan of the destroyed phase, and the second, sites reconstructed following a completely new plan, paying no attention to the previous phase. Tell Qasile in the Iron Age IB–IIA transition falls into the first category. Stratum X represents a small Philistine town, with domestic quarters and a sanctuary. The town was destroyed by a great fire attested in all excavation areas. The destruction debris was accompanied by many restorable vessels, implying that the site was abandoned rapidly by the inhabitants (Maisler 1951a, 128–136; Mazar 1980, 33–39; Mazar 1986, 7–9; Mazar 2009; Mazar and Harpazi-Ofer 1994, 9–25). Only Shrine 300, adjacent to the Sanctuary, does not show signs of conflagration (Mazar 1980, 28). A careful analysis of the pottery demonstrated that while the sherds of vessels of domestic nature (e.g. storage jars, bowls, juglets) were concentrated in specific spots, the remains of some cult vessels were found at points distant to each other, sometimes in different rooms, suggesting that these cultic vessels were intentionally smashed and scattered (Mazar 1980, 39–40). No direct evidence of warfare was found. The destruction layer was covered by a layer of blown sand, indicating an occupation gap, even if a short one, between destruction and reconstruction. When the settlement was rebuilt, some of the buildings, including the temple, were reconstructed, while others went out of use and were replaced by large open courtyards (Mazar 1980, 50–53; Mazar 2009; Mazar and Harpazi-Ofer 1994). Tel Reḥov presents a slightly different version of the first case. Stratum IV, dating to the late Iron Age IIA, represents an impressive city approximately 10 ha in size. The excavations of the mound revealed residential quarters, a granary, and a sanctuary in Area E and some buildings that were cultic in nature in Area C. The site was unfortified. In the mid– to late 9th century BCE the city was destroyed by a great fire attributed to king Hazael of Aram Damascus (Mazar 2008; Mazar 2015; Mazar 2016b, 25–44, 48–49). After the destruction, the lower mound was abandoned, but at some point, possibly in the last third of the 9th century BCE (but maybe only in the early 8th century BCE), the city was reconstructed on the upper mound,

AFTER THE FLAMES DIED DOWN

239

reduced to only 5 ha in size. A casemate city wall was constructed at the upper mound, and some of the structures of Stratum IV were reconstructed following the same plan (Mazar 2016b, 57–58).3 The most extensive reconstruction of a destroyed site took place at Shechem. This site was one of the major centres of the hill country and presents a dense Middle Bronze Age stratigraphy. The site was well fortified by a massive wall, a glacis and a monumental gate. A massive temple and several other public and domestic structures were exposed in the excavations. Stratum XVI, dating to the Middle Bronze Age III, presents widespread evidence of destruction. Clear evidence of conflagration and restorable pottery were found in every area where preservation was good (Campbell 2002, 114, 117–118, 149, 156). After the destruction of Stratum XVI, the city was reconstructed. Many of the structures, including the gate, the tower temple, and the Tananir complex, were put back to use. Another gate, the East Gate, was added to the fortification system. There seems to have been considerable unrest during the existence of Stratum XV, as represented by not less than three consecutive destructions in Field IV, each shown by evidence of a fierce conflagration, collapsed burnt mud bricks, and restorable pottery. No clear traces of more than one destruction were found in any of the other areas.4 The final destruction of the city was nevertheless very violent. The most vivid evidence of this is the eight crashed skeletons that were found in the destruction debris of the eastern gate, together with remains of animals and restorable pottery (Campbell 2002, 137–141). Evidence of destruction was also found in the other areas, with the possible exception of the Fortress Temple (Campbell 2002, 130–131, 149–151, 165–166). However, the meagre evidence of destruction in the For3 These conclusions are based on preliminary reports and thus might change after the final report is published. 4 In one case (Campbell 2002, 130–131), it was suggested, traces of ash and burnt material in makeup of later layers could represent additional destruction, but this evidence can hardly be considered clear-cut. In another case, it is unclear if in the Eastern Gate there are two destructions or a collapse of two stories of the same structure (Campbell 2002, 139–141).

240

IGOR KREIMERMAN

tress Temple could be explained by its later reuse in the Late Bronze Age (Campbell 2002, 181–184). After the destruction, most of the areas of the site were either abandoned or occupied by squatters who constructed some ephemeral walls and installations that could by no means be compared with the previous flourishing city. Only later was the city reconstructed on a massive scale (Campbell 2002, 169; Duff 2015, 6–9, 11–15, 161–163). The second and final case, as mentioned above, is of the reconstruction of the site following a new plan, with no prolonged occupation gap. Unfortunately, there are no clear examples of this practice from the southern Levant. Each of the candidates has its own difficulties. In the transition between City II (and Palace II) to City I (and Fort III) at Tell el-Ajjul, the plan changed completely. The wellplanned and densely populated City II was destroyed and replaced by a massive building, Fort III, accompanied by several poor domestic structures (Petrie 1932, 4; Petrie 1952; Mackay 1952; Stewart 1974, 62–63; Kempinski 1993). One must note, however, that the extent of the destruction of City II and the dating of the destruction of City II and construction of City I is unclear—although the occupation gap, if there was such, was not too prolonged (Kempinski 1974; Kempinski 1993; Stewart 1974; Tufnell 1993, 62–63).5 The transition from Level VII to Level VI at Lachish is another candidate. Lachish VII was a prosperous, densely populated city. Although the city was destroyed, the destruction was not as thorough as in other cases listed here. Evidence of fire was found in Area S, the North-East Section, and in the Fosse Temple but not in Area P (Barkay and Ussishkin 2004, 347–351; Ussishkin 2004a, 60–62;

The renewed excavations of the site reached the Middle Bronze Age and early Late Bronze Age levels in limited probes. These results put some of the above conclusions under doubt, as more destruction episodes were noted by these excavators than by Petrie and it seems that some Middle Bronze Age III walls did continue to the Late Bronze Age I (Fischer and Sadeq 2002; Fischer 2003; Fischer 2009).

5

AFTER THE FLAMES DIED DOWN

241

Ussishkin 2004c, 191–198).6 The city was rebuilt, probably soon after its destruction, but none of the buildings of Level VII was reconstructed (Garfinkel et al. 2019a); the Fosse Temple outside the city was also destroyed and abandoned (Tufnell, Inge, and Harding 1940; Ussishkin 2004a, 60–62). On the other hand, the orientation of the buildings in the two phases was the same. Due to the limited extent of exposure of Level VII and the lack of destruction in one of the areas (Area P), however, this example is not clear cut.

4. DISCUSSION Our interpretation of the above evidence mainly depends on two questions: (1) How much time elapsed between the destruction and the post-destruction phase? (2) Who were the people that were responsible for these actions? The easiest case to answer for is that of Megiddo VIA. The fact that some of the skeletons were rescued from the destruction debris only to be reburied within the site suggests that this was done to pay last respects to the deceased, most probably by inhabitants who returned to the mound. As in the photographs (Harrison 2004, figs. 73, 75–76, 84–87, 95), the bodies seem in extended position and with no missing parts, the actions had to have taken place before the bodies decomposed or were hurt by scavenging animals, that is, shortly after destruction. The other cases are not so straightforward. Pottery and radiocarbon normally give dates to an accuracy of several decades. Thus, in the case of Lachish (in both the Middle Bronze Age and Sennacherib’s destructions) or Tell Ḥalif it is unclear if the squatting happened immediately after the destruction or only a couple of decades later. Furthermore, the identity of the new occupants is unknown. The Assyrians, for instance, are known to have enslaved or deported the population of conquered cities (Oded 1979; Naʾaman 1993). Sennacherib mentioned in his annals that he distributed captured Jude-

6 Note that the structures in Area P did not preserve well (Ussishkin 2004c, 191–193) so the lack of evidence of destruction in this area might, to some extent, be a result of preservation issues.

242

IGOR KREIMERMAN

an lands among the rulers of Ashdod, Ekron, Ashkelon, and Gaza (Grayson and Novotny 2012, 65; 2014, 80). So the new inhabitants do not have to be related to the previous residents. In the case of Tell Ḥalif, it was argued that the reuse of architectural units in Stratum VIA indicates that the new occupants were familiar with the functions and structures of Stratum VIB and therefore were among the former residents of the site (Hardin 2010, 63; Cole 2015, 34–35). However, resettlement of abandoned structures occurred even hundreds of years after their destruction. This is well evident at Horvat ʿUza, where the Iron Age fortress was resettled in the Hellenistic period, nearly 300 years after its destruction. Just as in Tell Ḥalif, sometimes new floors were laid above the Iron Age destruction debris, while in other cases rooms were cleaned so well that it seemed that they had never been burned (Beit-Arieh and Cresson 2007). The excavators observed a large heap of blackish sediment with broken pottery vessels just outside the site, matching chronologically the pottery from within the fortress; they thus argued, quite convincingly, that the heap probably resulted from cleaning operations undertaken during the Hellenistic period when the fortress was resettled. Thus, it is most probable that the entire fortress was burned, even though signs of conflagration within the fortress are found only in rooms that were not cleaned out during the Hellenistic period (BeitArieh and Cresson 2007). Similar reuse of some of the Iron Age structures, together with the construction of new ones in the Hellenistic period, is attested also at Tel ʿIra (Beit-Arieh 1999, 173). Therefore, when in a post-destruction squatting phase the new inhabitants reuse a destroyed structure, there is no reason to assume that they are related to the previous residents. In the case of sites destroyed in Sennacherib’s campaign, evidence of squatting was found at many sites. Lachish and Tell Ḥalif can be mentioned here, but somewhat similar evidence was observed also in other cities and towns in the Shephelah and the Negev (Blakely and Hardin 2002; Finkelstein and Naʾaman 2004). Blakely and Hardin (2002) suggested that these reconstructions were part of

AFTER THE FLAMES DIED DOWN

243

a state initiative;7 yet, due to the low investment of energy in the construction one may prefer Finkelstein and Naʾaman’s idea that it was a spontaneous process, possibly but not necessarily conducted by the former residents of the sites, or by others who saw the economic potential in resettlement (Finkelstein and Naʾaman 2004). Indeed, the destruction of cities created an economic vacuum: fields and other natural resources around the city became unexploited, and this created an incentive for opportunists to return to the destroyed sites. The most important point regarding the minor reconstructions is that the reoccupied settlements did not retain their previous status. Prior to the destruction, the mentioned sites had been fortified cities or towns, but after they were resettled by squatters they would be better described as villages. The fortification systems were not active, there were no public structures, and therefore these settlements did not pose any threat to the subjugator who had destroyed them.8 In other words, the victor’s goal was achieved. Such minor resettlement should thus be seen as overall compliance of the defeated party with the victor’s will. The cases of major reconstructions are more interesting. Although the settlements experienced some changes, their previous nature basically remained. The reconstruction of public structures, like the temples of Tell Qasile and Shechem, demonstrates that whoever reconstructed these buildings shared a similar belief system to that of the former residents. Possibly, the reconstruction was done by the same political group that inhabited the site before it was destroyed. They also put forward the idea that it was Tiglath-pileser III who destroyed Tell Ḥalif VIB and other roughly contemporary layers. The reconstruction, according to Blakely and Hardin, could then be attributed to Hezekiah, prior to Sennacherib’s campaign (Blakely and Hardin 2002). The argument was compellingly refuted by Finkelstein and Naʾaman (2004) and therefore is not discussed in detail here. 8 Therefore, the victor probably had no reason to stop this type of minor resettlement—although the fact that in several sites (see Finkelstein and Naʾaman 2004), as in Tell Ḥalif, the settlement did not continue to the late 7th century BCE might indicate that the reconstruction was eventually perceived as a threat and stopped by the Assyrians. Alternatively, it might be a result of a change in the economic circumstances. 7

244

IGOR KREIMERMAN

Furthermore, the reconstruction of public buildings and especially of fortifications demonstrates that whoever returned to the site after the destruction was well organized and able to execute large projects with no intervention. The new settlements could pose a renewed threat to whoever had destroyed them, and therefore these activities were probably done against the victor’s will and should be seen as a clear act of resistance. The example of Tell el-Ajjul is very different. After the destruction of City II, the Egyptians probably got hold of the area and constructed their own fort. This is seen by the clear change in the material culture and architecture. Therefore, this reconstruction is irrelevant to the rest of the discussion. So far, we have seen two types of responses by defeated parties: compliance and resistance. But which factors influenced the type of response? Here, examination of the historical contexts of the various events, when they are known, supplies a valuable clue. In the case of the Assyrian destructions of Lachish III, Tell Ḥalif VIB, and other sites, it is clear that in the 7th century BCE the entire region was subjugated to the Assyrians (Faust 2018; Zilberg 2018; Streit, this volume). Manasseh, for instance, remains known as a vassal of Assyria and participated in various construction projects and military campaigns (Cogan 1993; Finkelstein and Naʾaman 2004, 71). The Assyrians had several administrative centres in the region and could keep an eye on the destroyed mounds.9 The common view regarding the destructions in the Iron Age IB–IIA transition in the northern valleys, including that of Megiddo VIA, attributes them to the state formation process of the Israelites (Maisler 1951b, 23; Yadin 1970, 95; Harrison 2004, 108; Finkelstein 2013, 33–35).10 When the mounds were reoccupied, they were already Israelite in nature; thus, Note that which centres were occupied by the Assyrians and their exact level of control and involvement are disputed, especially in the case of Judah (Thareani 2011; Berlejung 2012; Bagg 2013; Younger 2015; Faust 2018; Zilberg 2018; Streit, this volume). 10 Although other suggestions, such as inter-city warfare or earthquake damage, have been put forward (Lamon and Shipton 1939, 7; Knauf 2000; Cline 2011), none of these theories has gained much popularity. 9

AFTER THE FLAMES DIED DOWN

245

if the Israelites indeed destroyed the sites in the northern valleys, it is likely that they were present in the area and could oversee the mounds. Normally, the destruction of sites in the Middle Bronze Age– Late Bronze Age transition is seen as due to acts of the Egyptians (Kenyon 1970, 188–194; Weinstein 1981; Dever 1990; Burke 2010; Massafra 2014).11 However, we know of no Egyptian presence in the highlands in the time of the early 18th Dynasty (Morris 2005, 38–66; Höflmayer 2015);12 thus, if the Egyptians are indeed responsible for the destruction of Shechem XVI–XV, they nevertheless did not have the means to supervise the area effectively until much later in the Late Bronze Age. This could have allowed the residents of Shechem to return and reconstruct the city and thus forced the Egyptians to at least one, and possibly more, further campaigns against the city that resulted in its destruction. The example of Middle Bronze Age Shechem is best contrasted with that of Middle Bronze Age Lachish. Lachish, was much closer to the main routes and therefore could be supervised by the Egyptians and therefore only squatting occurred in the ruined palace. Reḥov IV, together with other cities, was most probably destroyed by the Arameans, sometime between 837 and 830 BCE (Galil 2000; Maeir 2004; Kleiman 2016; Mazar 2016a, 110). The extent of the Aramean control over the area is disputed (e.g. Naʾaman 2013; Sergi 2013) but in any case it is clear that after Adad-nirari III defeated Aram in 803–802 BCE, the kingdom of Israel gained its territories back and resettled the desired areas. This is not to say that all the cities that were destroyed by the Arameans were reconstructed. Tell esṢafi/Gath remained in ruins for a prolonged period (Maeir 2012, Yet, it is true that although the attribution of these destructions to the Egyptians is widely accepted, it is by no means proven (Höflmayer 2015, 192), and indeed other theories exist, such as earthquakes, a Hurrian invasion, and internal conflicts (Shea 1979; Hoffmeier 1989; Naʾaman 1994; Ilan 1995, 314–15; Redford 2003, 50–51; Maeir 2010, 165–78). 12 It seems that the Egyptians might have had some presence in the coastal plain and that their army moved occasionally through the main roads to Syria (Morris 2005, 38–66; Höflmayer 2015). 11

246

IGOR KREIMERMAN

49)13 and so was Ḥorbat Rosh Zayit, where squatting was observed in the fort (Gal and Alexandre 2000, 23–24, 141–145). Thus, although when the victor was unable to control the destroyed areas the cities could be reconstructed, the decision whether or not to reconstruct them depended on many factors including, but not limited to, military, economic and demographic considerations. In conclusions, there is a tight connection between the physical presence of the subjugator in the conquered area and the fate of the mounds. Two cases can be discerned: 1. When the conqueror is present and has the ability to supervise the area, but is not interested in turning the site into his own administrative center, the sites are either abandoned or only minor reconstructions take place. 2. When the conqueror is not present and has no ability to supervise the area, the cities might, but do not have to, be reconstructed following a similar plan as before, with highenergy expenditure. This situation is hardly surprising. After all, the victor destroyed the cities after proving his superiority in the battlefield and after proving able to subdue the cities even though they were fortified. Thus, the defeated side knew that when the victor’s forces were present in the vicinity the chances of successful military resistance were low. It seems that in these cases the defeated side accepted the loss and did not resist. However, occasionally, when the victor was far away, the defeated side seized the opportunity and reconstructed the settlement. Sometimes, like in Reḥov, the bet proved worthy and the previous subjugator was unable or uninterested in subduing the city again. In other cases, like that of Shechem, the victor returned and conquered the city again. This study has concentrated on Bronze and Iron Age Southern Levantine cities that were completely burned in war. Further investigation is required to identify additional responses to warfare-induced

13 Note that the site was not part of the kingdom of Israel, but the capital of an independent kingdom.

AFTER THE FLAMES DIED DOWN

247

destruction and to see if the insights from this study can be generalized to other areas and periods.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Africa, Thomas W. 1971. “Urban Violence in Imperial Rome.” Journal of Interdisciplinary History 2(1): 3–21. Arie, Eran 2013. “Area H: Levels H-9 to H-5.” In Megiddo V: The 2004–2008 Seasons, edited by Israel Finkelstein, David Ussishkin, and Eric H Cline, 247–274. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Bagg, Ariel M. 2013. “Palestine under Assyrian Rule: A New Look at the Assyrian Imperial Policy in the West.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 133(1): 119–144. Barkay, Gabriel, and David Ussishkin 2004. “Area S: The Late Bronze Age Strata.” In The Renewed Archaeological Excavations at Lachish (1973–1994), edited by David Ussishkin, 316– 407. Tel Aviv: Institute of Archaeology, Tel Aviv University. Beit-Arieh, Itzhaq 1999. “Stratigraphy and Historical Background.” In Tel ʿIra: A Stronghold in the Biblical Negev, edited by Itzhaq Beit-Arieh, 170–178. Tel Aviv: Institute of Archaeology, Tel Aviv University. Beit-Arieh, Itzhaq, and Bruce C. Cresson 2007. “Stratigraphy and Architecture.” In Horvat ʿUza and Horvat Radum – Two Fortresses in the Biblical Negev, edited by Itzhaq Beit-Arieh, 15–76. Tel Aviv: Institute of Archaeology, Tel Aviv University. Berlejung, Angelika 2012. “The Assyrians in the West: Assyrianization, Colonialism, Indifference, or Development Policy?” In Congress Volume Helsinki 2010, edited by Martti Nissinen, 20– 60. Supplements to Vetus Testamentum 148. Leiden: Brill. Betylon, John W 2003. “Neo-Babylonian Military Operations Other Than War in Judah and Jerusalem” In Judah and Judeans in the Neo-Babylonian Period, edited by Oded Lipschits and Joseph Blenkinsopp, 263–283. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Bjorkman, Judy 1999. “How to Bury a Temple: The Case of Nuzi’s Ishtar Temple A.” In Studies on the Civilization and Culture of Nuzi and Hurrians 9, edited by David I. Owen and Gernot Wilhelm, 103–122. Bethesda, MD: CDL Press.

248

IGOR KREIMERMAN

Blakely, Jeffrey A, and James W. Hardin 2002. “Southwestern Judah in the Late Eighth Century B.C.E.” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 326: 11–64. Boase, Elizabeth, and Christopher G. Frechtte, eds. 2016. Bible Through the Lense of Trauma. Semeia Studies 86. Atlanta, GA: Society of Biblical Literature. Borowski, Oded 2005. “Tel Halif: In the Path of Sennacherib.” Biblical Archaeology Review 31(3): 24–35. Burke, Aaron A. 2010. “Canaan under Siege: The History and Archaeology of Egypt’s War in Canaan during the Early Eighteenth Dynasty.” In Studies on War in the Ancient Near East: Collected Essays on Military History, edited by Jordi Vidal, 43– 66. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 372. Münster: UgaritVerlag. Campbell, Edward F. 2002. Shechem III: The Stratigraphy and Architecture of Shechem/Tell Balâṭah. American Schools of Oriental Research Archaeological Reports 6. Boston: American Schools of Oriental Research. Cheung, Ada 1998. “The Political Implications of Imperial Military Defeat.” Scholia 7: 109–117. Clark, Jessica H. 2014. Triumph in Defeat: Military Loss and the Roman Republic. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Clausewitz, Carl von 1976. On War. Edited and Translated by Michael Howard and Peter Paret. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Cline, Eric H. 2011. “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Going On: The Possible Destruction by Earthquake of Stratum VIA at Megiddo.” In The Fire Signals of Lachish: Studies in the Archaeology and History of Israel in the Late Bronze Age, Iron Age, and Persian Period in Honor of David Ussishkin, edited by Israel Finkelstein and Nadav Naʾaman, 55–70. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Cline, Eric H, and Inbal Samet 2013. “Area L.” In Megiddo V: The 2004–2008 Seasons, edited by Israel Finkelstein, David Ussishkin, and Eric H. Cline, 275–285. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Cogan, Mordechai 1993. “Judah under Assyrian Hegemony: A Reexamination of Imperialism and Religion.” Journal of Biblical Literature 112(3): 403–414.

AFTER THE FLAMES DIED DOWN

249

Cole, Dan P. 2015. Lahav V: The Iron, Persian, and Hellenistic Occupation within the Walls at Tell Halif, Excavations in Field II: 1977–1980. Reports of the Lahav Research Project, Excavations at Tell Halif, Israel 5. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Dever, William G. 1990. “‘Hyksos’, Egyptian Destructions, and the End of the Palestinian Middle Bronze Age.” Levant 22: 75–81. Driessen, Jan, and Colin F. Macdonald 1997. The Troubled Island: Minoan Crete Before and After the Santorini Eruption. Aegaeum 17. Liège: Université de Liège. Duff, Cathernie A. 2015. Shechem V: The Late Bronze Age Pottery from Field XIII at Shechem/Tell Balâṭah. Annual of the American Schools of Oriental Research Archaeological Reports 23. Boston, MA: American Schools of Oriental Research. Faust, Avraham 2018. “The Assyrian Century in the Southern Levant: An Overview of the Reality on the Ground.” In The Southern Levant Under Assyrian Domination, edited by Avraham Faust and Shawn Zelig Aster, 20–55. University Park, PA: Eisenbrauns. Finkelstein, Israel 2009. “Destructions: Megiddo as a Case Study.” In Exploring the Longue Durée: Essays in Honor of Lawrence E. Stager, edited by David Schloen, 113–126. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Finkelstein, Israel 2013. The Forgotten Kingdom: The Archaeology and History of Northern Israel. SBL Ancient Near East Monographs 5. Atlanta, GA: Society of Biblical Literature. Finkelstein, Israel, and Nadav Naʾaman 2004. “The Judahite Shephelah in the Late 8th and Early 7th Centuries BCE.” Tel Aviv 31(1): 60–79. Fischer, Peter M. 2003. “The Preliminary Chronology of Tell ElʿAjjul: Results of the Renewed Excavations in 1999 and 2000.” In The Synchronisation of Civilisations in the Eastern Mediterranean in the Second Millenium B.C. II, edited by Manfred Bietak, 263–294. Contributions to the Chronology of the Eastern Mediterranean 4. Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften. Fischer, Peter M. 2009. “The Chronology of Tell El-ʿAjjul, Gaza: Stratigraphy, Thera, Pumice and Radiocarbon.” In Time’s Up! Dating the Minoan Eruption of Santorini, edited by David A.

250

IGOR KREIMERMAN

Warburton, 253–265. Monographs of the Danish Institute at Athens 10. Aarhus: Danish Institute at Athens. Fischer, Peter M, and Moain Sadeq 2002. “Tell El-ʿAjjul 2000: Second Season Preliminary Report.” Ägypten & Levante 12: 109– 153. Franklin, Norma 2013. “Area M, Part I: The Excavation.” In Megiddo V: The 2004–2008 Seasons, edited by Israel Finkelstein, David Ussishkin, and Eric H. Cline, 178–214. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Gadot, Yuval, Mario A. S. Martin, Noga Blockman, and Eran Arie 2006. “Area K (Levels K-5 and K-4, the 1998–2002 Seasons).” In Megiddo IV: The 1998–2002 Seasons, edited by Israel Finkelstein, David Ussishkin, and Baruch Halpern, 87–103. Tel Aviv: Sonia and Marco Nadler Institute of Archaeology, Tel Aviv University. Gadot, Yuval, and Assaf Yasur-Landau 2006. “Beyond the Finds: Reconstructing Life in the Courtyard Building of Level K-4.” In Megiddo IV: The 1998–2002 Seasons, edited by Israel Finkelstein, David Ussishkin, and Baruch Halpern, 583–600. Tel Aviv: Sonia and Marco Nadler Institute of Archaeology, Tel Aviv University. Gal, Zvi, and Yardena Alexandre 2000. Ḥorbat Rosh Zayit: An Iron Age Storage Fort and Village. Israel Antiquities Authority Reports 8. Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority. Galil, Gershon 2000. “The Boundaries of Aram Damascus in the 9th-8th Centuries BCE.” In Studies in Historical Geography & Biblical Historiography, edited by Gershon Galil and Moshe Weinfeld, 35–41. Leiden: Brill. Gallo, Elisabetta 2014. “Destructions in Early Bronze Age Southern Levant.” In Overcoming Catastrophes: Essays on Disastrous Agents Characterizations and Resilience Strategies in PreClassical Southern Levant, edited by Lorenzo Nigro, 141–169. ROSAPAT 11. Rome: La Sapienza Expedition to Palestine & Jordan. Ganor, Saar, and Igor Kreimerman 2019. “An Eighth-Century B.C.E. Gate-Shrine at Tel Lachish, Israel.” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 381: 211–236.

AFTER THE FLAMES DIED DOWN

251

Garfinkel, Yosef, Igor Kreimerman, Michael G. Hasel, and Martin G. Klingbeil 2019a. “First Impressions on the Urban Layout of the Last Canaanite City of Lachish: A View from the Northeast Corner of the Site.” In The Late Bronze and Early Iron Ages of Southern Canaan, edited by Aren M. Maeir, Itzhaq Shai, and Chris McKinny, 122–135. Archaeology of the Biblical Worlds 2. Berlin: De Gruyter. Garfinkel, Yosef, Michael G. Hasel, Martin G. Klingbeil, Hoo-Goo Kang, Gwanghyun Choi, Sang-Yeup Chang, Soonhwa Hong, Saar Ganor, Igor Kreimerman and Christopher Bronk Ramsey 2019b. “Lachish Fortifications and State Formation in the Biblical Kingdom of Judah in Light of Radiometric Datings.” Radiocarbon 61(3): 695–712. Ginio, Eyal 2016. The Ottoman Culture of Defeat: The Balkan Wars and Their Aftermath. New York, NY: Oxford University Press. Gordon, Douglas H. 1953. “Fire and the Sword: The Technique of Destruction.” Antiquity 27(107): 149–152. Gottlieb, Yulia 2004. “The Arrowheads and Selected Objects of the Siege Battle.” In The Renewed Archaeological Excavations at Lachish (1973–1994), edited by David Ussishkin, 1907–1969. Tel Aviv: Sonia and Marco Nadler Institute of Archaeology, Tel Aviv University. Grayson, A. Kirk and Jamie Novotny. 2012. The Royal Inscriptions of Sennacherib, King of Assyria (704–681 BC), Part I. The Royal Inscriptions of the Neo-Assyrian Period 3/1. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Grayson, A. Kirk and Jamie Novotny. 2014. The Royal Inscriptions of Sennacherib, King of Assyria (704–681 BC), Part II. The Royal Inscriptions of the Neo-Assyrian Period 3/2. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Gregory, Bradley C. 2009. “‘The Sennacherib Error’ in Theodore of Mopsuestia’s Commentary on the Twelve Prophets: Light from the History of Interpretation.” Journal of Theological Interpretation 3(2): 213–226. Hardin, James W. 2010. Lahav II: Households and the Use of Domestic Space at Iron II Tell Halif: An Archaeology of Destruction. Reports of the Lahav Research Project, Excavations at Tell Halif, Israel 2. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns.

252

IGOR KREIMERMAN

Harrison, Timothy P. 2004. Megiddo 3: Final Report on the Stratum VI Excavations. Oriental Institute Publications 127. Chicago, IL: Oriental Institute. Hoffmeier, James K. 1989. “Reconsidering Egypt’s Part in the Termination of the Middle Bronze Age in Palestine.” Levant 21: 181–193. Höflmayer, Felix 2015. “Egypt’s ‘Empire’ in the Southern Levant during the Early 18th Dynasty.” In Policies of Exchange: Political Systems and Modes of Interaction in the Aegean and the Near East in the 2nd Millenium B.C.E., edited by Birgitta Eder and Regine Pruzsinszky, 191–206. Oriental and European Archaeology 2. Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften. Ilan, David 1995. “The Dawn of Internationalism – The Middle Bronze Age.” In The Archaeology of Society in the Holy Land, edited by Thomas E. Levy, 297–315. London: Bloomsbury Academic. Ilan, David, Norma Franklin, and Rachel S. Hallote 2000. “Area F.” In Megiddo III: The 1992–1996 Seasons, edited by Israel Finkelstein, David Ussishkin, and Baruch Halpern, 75–103. Tel Aviv: Tel Aviv University. Kempinski, Aharon 1974. “Tell El-ʿAjjul – Beth-Aglayim or Sharuhen?” Israel Exploration Journal 24(3): 145–152. Kempinski, Aharon 1993. “ʿAjjul, Tell El-.” In The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy Land, edited by Ephraim Stern, 52–53. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society. Kenyon, Kathleen M. 1970. Archaeology in the Holy Land. London: Ernest Benn. Kleiman, Assaf 2016. “The Damascene Subjugation of the Southern Levant as a Gradual Process (ca. 842–800 BCE).” In In Search of Aram and Israel: Politics, Culture and Identity, edited by Omer Sergi, Manfred Oeming, and Izaak J. de Hulster, 57–76. Orientalische Religionen in der Antike 20. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Knauf, Ernst A. 2000. “Who Destroyed Megiddo VIA?” Biblische Notizen 103: 30–35. Kreimerman, Igor 2016. “Siege Warfare, Conflict and Destruction: How Are They Related?” In From Shaʾar Hagolan to Shaar-

AFTER THE FLAMES DIED DOWN

253

aim: Essays in Honor of Prof. Yosef Garfinkel, edited by Saar Ganor, Igor Kreimerman, Katharina Streit, and Madelaine Mumcuoglu, 229–245. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society. Kreimerman, Igor 2017a. “A Typology for Destruction Layers: The Late Bronze Age Southern Levant as a Case Study.” In Crisis to Collapse: The Archaeology of Social Breakdown, edited by Tim Cunningham and Jan Driessen, 173–203. Aegis 11. Louvain-laNeuve: Presses Universitaires de Louvain. Kreimerman, Igor 2017b. “Skeletons in Bronze and Iron Age Destruction Contexts in the Southern Levant: What Do They Mean?” West & East 2: 13–30. Kreimerman, Igor in press. “Why Were Cities Destroyed in Times of War? A View from the Southern Levant in the Third and Second Millennia BCE.” In Societies at War: Proceedings of the Tenth Symposium of the Melammu Project Held in Kassel, edited by Kerstin Droß-Krüpe, Kai Ruffing, and Sebastian Fink. Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften. Kreimerman, Igor, and Ruth Shahack-Gross 2019. “Understanding Conflagration of One-Story Mud-Brick Structures: An Experimental Approach.” Archaeological and Anthropological Sciences 11(6): 2911–2928. Lamon, Robert S., and Geoffrey M. Shipton 1939. Megiddo I: Strata I-V. Oriental Institute Publications 42. Chicago, IL: Oriental Institute. Lehmann, Gunnar, Ann E. Killebrew, and Yuval Gadot 2000. “Area K.” In Megiddo III: The 1992–1996 Seasons, edited by Israel Finkelstein, David Ussishkin, and Baruch Halpern, 123–39. Tel Aviv: Institute of Archaeology, Tel Aviv University. Loud, Gordon 1948. Megiddo II. Oriental Institute Publications 62. Chicago, IL: Oriental Institute. Mackay, Ernest J. H. 1952. “Upper Levels of Excavation.” In City of Shepherd Kings, Ancient Gaza V, edited by W. M. Flinders Petrie, 27–30. British School of Archaeology in Egypt 64. London: British School of Archaeology in Egypt. Macleod, Jenny, ed. 2008. Defeat and Memory: Cultural Histories of Military Defeat in the Modern Era. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.

254

IGOR KREIMERMAN

Maeir, Aren M. 2004. “The Historical Background and Dating of Amos VI 2: An Archaeological Perspective from Tell EṣṢâfī/Gath.” Vetus Testamentum 54(3): 319–334. Maeir, Aren M. 2010. In The Midst of the Jordan: The Jordan Valley during the Middle Bronze Age (Circa 2000–1500 BC), Archaeological and Historical Correlates. Contributions to the Chronology of the Eastern Mediterranean 26. Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften. Maeir, Aren M. 2012. “The Tell Es-Safi/Gath Archaeological Project 1996–2010: Introduction, Overview and Synopsis of Results.” In Tell Es-Safi/Gath I: The 1996–2005 Seasons, edited by Aren M. Maeir, 1–88. Ägypten und Altes Testament 69. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Maisler, Benjamin 1951a. “The Excavations at Tell Qasile: Preliminary Report.” Israel Exploration Journal 1(3): 125–140. Maisler, Benjamin 1951b. “The Stratification of Tell Abū Huwâm on the Bay of Acre.” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 124: 21–25. Malmat, Avraham 1968. “The Last Kings of Judah and the Fall of Jerusalem: An Historical – Chronological Study.” Israel Exploration Journal 18(3): 137–156. Massafra, Angela 2014. “The End of the Middle Bronze Age in Southern Levant: Was Sharuhen the Only City Conquered by Ahmose?” In Reading Catastrophes: Proceedings of the International Conference “Reading Catastrophes: Methodological Approaches and Historical Interpretation. Earthquakes, Floods, Famines, Epidemics between Egypt and Palestine – 3rd–1st Millennium BC”, edited by Lorenzo Nigro, 185–203. ROSAPAT 11. Rome: “La Sapienza” Expedition to Palestine & Jordan. Mazar, Amihai 1980. Excavations at Tell Qasile, Part One: The Philistine Sanctuary: Architecture and Cult Objects. Qedem 12. Jerusalem: Hebrew University, Institute of Archaeology. Mazar, Amihai 1986. “Excavations at Tell Qasile, 1982–1984: Preliminary Report.” Israel Exploration Journal 36(1/2): 1–15. Mazar, Amihai 2008. “Reḥov, Tel.” In The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy Land (Supplementary Volume), edited by Ephraim Stern, 2013–18. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society.

AFTER THE FLAMES DIED DOWN

255

Mazar, Amihai 2009. “The Iron Age Dwellings at Tell Qasile.” In Exploring the Longue Durée: Essays in Honor of Lawrence E. Stager, edited by J. David Schloen, 319–336. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Mazar, Amihai 2015. “Religious Practices and Cult Objects during the Iron Age IIA at Tel Rehov and Their Implications Regarding Religion in Northern Israel.” Hebrew Bible and Ancient Israel 4(1): 25–55. Mazar, Amihai 2016a. “Culture, Identity and Politics Relating to Tel Reḥov in the 10th–9th Centuries BCE.” In In Search of Aram and Israel: Politics, Culture and Identity, edited by Omer Sergi, Manfred Oeming, and Izaak J. de Hulster, 89–119. Orientalische Religionen in der Antike 20. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Mazar, Amihai 2016b. “Discoveries from the Early Monarchic Period at Tel Reḥov.” In It Is the Land of Honey: Discoveries from Tel Reḥov, the Early Days of the Israelite Monarchy, edited by Irit Ziffer, 9–65. Tel Aviv: Musa Eretz Israel Museum. Mazar, Amihai, and Semadar Harpazi-Ofer 1994. “The Excavations at Tell Qasile from 1988 to 1991.” Israel: People and Land (Eretz Israel Museum Yearbook) 7: 9–34. Morris, Ellen F. 2005. The Architecture of Imperialism: Military Bases and the Evolution of Foreign Policy in Egypt’s New Kingdom. Probleme der Ägyptologie 22. Leiden: Brill. Naʾaman, Nadav 1993. “Population Changes in Palestine Following Assyrian Deportations.” Tel Aviv 20(1): 104–124. Naʾaman, Nadav 1994. “The Hurrians and the End of the Middle Bronze Age in Palestine.” Levant 26:175–187. Naʾaman, Nadav 2013. “The Kingdom of Judah in the 9th Century BCE: Text Analysis versus Archaeological Research.” Tel Aviv 40: 247–276. Nagar, Yossi 2006. “Human Skeletal Remains.” In Megiddo IV: The 1998–2002 Seasons, edited by Israel Finkelstein, David Ussishkin, and Baruch Halpern, 471–472. Tel Aviv: Institute of Archaeology, Tel Aviv University. Nigro, Lorenzo 2006. Khirbet Al-Batrawy: An Early Bronze Age Fortified Town in North-Central Jordan. Preliminary Report of the First Season of Excavations (2005). Roma “La Sapienza”

256

IGOR KREIMERMAN

Studies on the Archaeology of Palestine & Transjordan 3. Rome: La Sapienza Expedition to Palestine & Jordan. Nigro, Lorenzo 2008. Khirbet Al-Batrawy II: The EB II City-Gate, the EB II-III Fortifications, the EB II-III Temple. Preliminary Report of the Second (2006) and Third (2007) Seasons of Excavations. Roma “La Sapienza” Studies on the Archaeology of Palestine & Transjordan 6. Rome: La Sapienza Expedition to Palestine & Jordan. Nigro, Lorenzo 2012. Khirbet Al-Batrawy III: The EB II-III Triple Fortification Line, and the EB IIIB Quarter inside the CityWall. Preliminary Report of the Fourth (2008) and Fifth (2009) Seasons of Excavations. Roma “La Sapienza” Studies on the Archaeology of Palestine & Transjordan 8. Rome: La Sapienza Expedition to Palestine & Jordan. Nigro, Lorenzo 2013. “Khirbet Al-Batrawy: An Early Bronze Age City at the Fringes of the Desert.” Syria 90: 189–209. Nigro, Lorenzo 2017. “The End of the Early Bronze Age in the Southern Levant: Urban Crisis and Collapse Seen from Two 3rd Millennium BC-Cities: Tell Es-Sultan/Jericho and Khirbet Al-Batrawy.” In Crisis to Collapse: The Archaeology of Social Breakdown, edited by Tim Cunningham and Jan Driessen, 149– 172. Aegis 11. Louvain-la-Neuve: Presses Universitaires de Louvain. Nigro, Lorenzo, and Maura Sala 2011. “Preliminary Report on the Sixth (2010) Season of Excavation by ‘La Sapienza’ University of Rome at Khirbat Al-Batrāwī (Upper Wādī Az-Zarqā’).” Annual of the Department of Antiquities of Jordan 55: 85–100. Nigro, Lorenzo, and Maura Sala 2012. “Preliminary Report on the Seventh (2011) Season of Excavations by ‘La Sapienza’ University of Rome at Khirbat Al-Batrāwī, Upper Wādī Az-Zarqā’.” Annual of the Department of Antiquities of Jordan 56: 45–53. Nur, Amos 2008. Apocalypse: Earthquakes, Archaeology, and the Wrath of God. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Oded, Bustenay 1979. Mass Deportations and Deportees in the NeoAssyrian Empire. Wiesbaden: Reichert. Oegema, Gerbern S. 2014. “Sennacherib’s Campaign and Its Reception in the Time of the Second Temple.” In Sennacherib at the Gates of Jerusalem: Story, History and Historiography, edited

AFTER THE FLAMES DIED DOWN

257

by Isaac Kalimi and Seth Richardson, 325–345. Culture and History of the Ancient Near East 71. Leiden: Brill. Paolo, Silvana di 2016. “War Remembrance Narrative: Negotiation of Memory and Oblivion in Mesopotamian Art.” In Envisioning the Past Through Memories: How Memory Shaped Ancient Near Eastern Societies, edited by Davide Nadali, 143–162. Cultural Memory and History in Antiquity 3. London: Bloomsbury Academic. Petrie, W. M. Flinders 1932. Ancient Gaza II: Tell El Ajjūl. British School of Archaeology in Egypt 54. London: British School of Archaeology in Egypt. Petrie, W. M. Flinders 1952. “Tell El Ajjūl and Wady Ghazzeh.” In City of Shepherd Kings, Ancient Gaza V, edited by W. M. Flinders Petrie, 3–6. British School of Archaeology in Egypt 64. London: British School of Archaeology in Egypt. Redford, Donald B. 2003. The Wars in Syria and Palestine of Thutmose III. Culture and History of the Ancient Near East 16. Leiden: Brill. Sass, Benjamin, and Gilad Cinamon 2006. “The Small Finds.” In Megiddo IV: The 1998–2002 Seasons, edited by Israel Finkelstein, David Ussishkin, and Baruch Halpern, 353–425. Tel Aviv: Sonia and Marco Nadler Institute of Archaeology, Tel Aviv University. Schivelbusch, Wolfgang 2003. The Culture of Defeat: On National Trauma, Mourning, and Recovery. New York, NY: Metropolitan Books. Schumacher, Gottlieb 1908. Tell El-Mutesellim I: Bericht über die 1903 bis 1905 mit Unterstützung Sr. Majestät des Deutschen Kaisers und der Deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft vom Deutschen Verein zur Erforschung Palästinas veranstalteten Ausgrabungen. Leipzig: Rudolf Haupt. Seger, Joe D. 1983. “Investigations at Tell Halif, Israel, 1976-1980.” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 252: 1–23. Sergi, Omer 2013. “Judah’s Expansion in Historical Context.” Tel Aviv 40: 226–246. Shea, William H. 1979. “The Conquest of Sharuḥen and Megiddo Reconsidered.” Israel Exploration Journal 29(1): 1–5.

258

IGOR KREIMERMAN

Sintubin, Manuel 2011. “Archaeoseismology: Past, Present and Future.” Quaternary International 242(1): 4–10. Slot, Ben J. 1976. “The Fires in Istanbul of 1782 and 1784 According to Maps and Reports By Dutch Diplomatic Representatives.” Güney Doğu Avrupa Araştırmaları Dergisi 4–5: 47–66. Stewart, James R. 1974. Tell El ʿAjjūl: The Middle Bronze Age Remains. Studies in Mediterranean Archaeology 38. Göteborg: Paul Åströms Förlag. Stiros, Stathis C. 1996. “Identification of Earthquakes from Archaeological Data: Methodology, Criteria and Limitations.” In Archaeoseismology, edited by Stathis C. Stiros and Richard E. Jones, 129–152. Fitch Laboratory Occasional Paper 7. Athens: British School at Athens. Streit, Katharina, Lyndelle Webster, Vanessa Becker, Ann-Kathrin Jeske, Hadas Misgav and Felix Höflmayer 2018. “Between Destruction and Diplomacy in Canaan: The Austrian-Israeli Expedition to Tel Lachish.” Near Eastern Archaeology 81(4): 259– 268. Thareani, Yifat 2011. “Metal Objects.” In Tel ʿAroer: The Iron Age II Caravan Town and the Hellenistic-Early Roman Settlement, edited by Yifat Thareani, 246–251. Annual of the Nelson Glueck School of Biblical Archaeology 8. Jerusalem: Jewish Institute of Religion, Hebrew Union College. Tufnell, Olga 1953. Lachish III (Tell Ed-Duweir): The Iron Age. The Wellcome-Marston Archaeological Research Expedition to the Near East 3. London: Oxford University Press. Tufnell, Olga 1958. Lachish IV (Tell Ed-Duweir): The Bronze Age. The Wellcome-Marston Archaeological Research Expedition to the Near East 4. London: Oxford University Press. Tufnell, Olga 1993. “ʿAjjul, Tell El-.” In The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy Land, edited by Ephraim Stern, 49–52. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society. Tufnell, Olga, Charles H. Inge, and G. Lankester Harding 1940. Lachish II (Tell Ed Duweir): The Fosse Temple. London: Oxford University Press. Ussishkin, David 1978. “Excavations at Tel Lachish: 1973–1977 Preliminary Report.” Tel Aviv 5(1–2): 1–97.

AFTER THE FLAMES DIED DOWN

259

Ussishkin, David 1982. The Conquest of Lachish by Sennacherib. Publications of the Institute of Archaeology 6. Tel Aviv: Institute of Archaeology, Tel Aviv University. Ussishkin, David 1983. “Excavations at Tel Lachish 1978—1983: Second Preliminary Report.” Tel Aviv 10(2): 97–175. Ussishkin, David 2004a. “A Synopsis of the Stratigraphical, Chronological and Historical Issues.” In The Renewed Archaeological Excavations at Lachish (1973–1994), edited by David Ussishkin, 50–119. Tel Aviv: Institute of Archaeology, Tel Aviv University. Ussishkin, David 2004b. “Area GE: The Inner City-Gate.” In The Renewed Archaeological Excavations at Lachish (1973–1994), edited by David Ussishkin, 624–689. Tel Aviv: Sonia and Marco Nadler Institute of Archaeology, Tel Aviv University. Ussishkin, David 2004c. “Area P: The Late Bronze Age Strata.” In The Renewed Archaeological Excavations at Lachish (1973– 1994), edited by David Ussishkin, 188–214. Tel Aviv: Institute of Archaeology, Tel Aviv University. Ussishkin, David 2004d. “Area R and the Assyrian Siege.” In The Renewed Archaeological Excavations at Lachish (1973–1994), edited by David Ussishkin, 695–764. Tel Aviv: Sonia and Marco Nadler Institute of Archaeology, Tel Aviv University. Ussishkin, David 2004e. “Area P: The Middle Bronze Age Palace.” In The Renewed Archaeological Excavations at Lachish (1973– 1994), edited by David Ussishkin, 140–187. Tel Aviv: Sonia and Marco Nadler Institute of Archaeology, Tel Aviv University. Weinstein, James M. 1981. “The Egyptian Empire in Palestine: A Reassessment.” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Resreach 241: 1–28. Wolpert, Andrew 2002. Remembering Defeat: Civil War and Civil Memory in Ancient Athens. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press. Wright, Jacob L. 2009. “The Commemoration of Defeat and the Formation of a Nation in the Hebrew Bible.” Prooftexts 29(3): 433–472. Yadin, Yigael 1970. “Megiddo of the Kings of Israel.” Biblical Archaeologist 33(3): 65–96. Yahalom-Mack, Naama, Adi Eliyahu-Behar, Mario A. S. Martin, Assaf Kleiman, Ruth Shahack-Gross, Robert S. Homsher, Yu-

260

IGOR KREIMERMAN

val Gadot, and Israel Finkelstein 2017. “Metalworking at Megiddo during the Late Bronze and Iron Ages.” Journal of Near Eastern Studies 76(1): 53–74. Younger, K. Lawson Jr. 2015. A Political History of the Arameans. Archaeology and Biblical Studies 13. Atlanta, GA: Society of Biblical Literature. Zarzecki-Peleg, Anabel 2016. Yadin’s Expedition to Megiddo: Final Report on the Archaeological Excavations (1960, 1966, 1967, and 1971/2 Seasons). Qedem 56. Jerusalem: Hebrew University, Institute of Archaeology. Zilberg, Peter 2018. “The Assyrian Provinces of the Southern Levant: Sources, Administration, and Control.” In The Southern Levant Under Assyrian Domination, edited by Avraham Faust and Shawn Zelig Aster, 56–88. University Park, PA: Eisenbrauns. Zuckerman, Sharon 2007. “Anatomy of a Destruction: Crisis Architecture, Termination Rituals and the Fall of Canaanite Hazor.” Journal of Mediterranean Archaeology 20(1): 3–32.

AFTER THE STORM: POLITICAL, ECONOMIC AND SOCIO-DEMOGRAPHIC ASPECTS OF THE ASSYRIAN DEFEAT OF THE SOUTHERN LEVANT KATHARINA STREIT ABSTRACT This paper examines the impact on, and responses by, the defeated parties in the southern Levant following their conquest by the Assyrian empire in the late 8th and early 7th century BCE, by tracing the political, economic, and socio-demographic transformations of the vanquished. Conquests and military conflicts in antiquity have traditionally been explored from the viewpoint of the victor, and have rarely focused on the defeated party whose experiences were often significant, traumatic, and enduring. Such a defeat was experienced in the southern Levant after the expansion of the Neo-Assyrian Empire in the late 8th century BCE. Assyria subdued the northern Kingdom of Israel in 720 BCE (famously deporting the ‘Ten Lost Tribes of Israel’) and conquered the southern Kingdom of Judah shortly thereafter. These defeat events resonate in the cultural and religious traditions of the region, and beyond, to this day. Examining the archaeological record, the Assyrian sources, and the Biblical account and related epigraphic evidence, substantial changes and adaptations in political (modes of governance, pax Assyriaca, acceptance and resistance), economic (production, consumption, trade, subsistence) and socio-demographic (deportations, refugees, gender aspects) aspects of defeat can be discerned. 261

262

KATHARINA STREIT

1. INTRODUCTION Conquest and military conflicts in the ancient Near East have traditionally been examined from the perspective of the victor, usually focusing on technology and the strategies and tactics of warfare (Yadin 1963; Fagan and Trundle 2010; Shaw 1999; O’Brien and Boatright 2013). This is certainly true for the Assyrian expansion in the 8th and 7th centuries BCE, where most analyses have either been historical reconstructions of Assyrian conquests (Grabbe 2003; Matty 2016; Kalimi and Richardson 2014; Gallagher 1999; Hasegawa, Levin, and Radner 2019), or investigations of their technical aspects (Backer 2013). The fate of the defeated (civilian) population has generally been treated as what Davide Nadali (Nadali 2014, 101) has termed a “filler motif” of the victor’s narrative. However, there is copious evidence that defeats have profound impacts on the lives of the vanquished. In such cases, a variety of response mechanisms will emerge, depending on the magnitude and type of defeat and on the cultural context in which the event is embedded. Societal responses to environmental hazards have begun to be explored, and suitable models (such as the resilience theory) have been proposed (Bradtmöller, Grimm, and Riel-Salvator 2017), but studies of crises caused by conflicts are rare. This is changing. In the past two decades there has been a shift of focus—a move away from the conqueror and toward the vanquished—at least in analysis of recent history. In his 2001 (English translation 2003) study, Wolfgang Schivelbusch offered a detailed examination of three major defeat events (those of the American South in 1865, France in 1871, and Germany in 1918), distilling patterns and response phases among the defeated populations (Schivelbusch 2003). Similarly, Eyal Ginio analysed the defeat of the Ottoman Empire during the Balkan Wars of 1911 to 1913, and emphasised the reactions and coping mechanisms of the defeated party (Ginio 2016). A comparable approach was taken by Holger Afflerbach, who traced the concept of surrender through European history (Afflerbach 2013). This type of approach has not yet been applied to ancient Near Eastern studies, though a shift towards alternative aspects of military conflict can be observed in a few recent studies, for example in those focusing on the impact of warfare on civilians (Nadali and Vidal 2014; Zorn 2014; Boase and Frechette 2016), or on

AFTER THE STORM

263

certain groups such as refugees (Burke 2012) or women (Clancier 2014). The long tradition of focusing on the conqueror, and reconstructing history mainly from this perspective, is perhaps due to the available evidence. The history of the ancient Near East has largely been reconstructed based on texts that were created in the closed environments of royal courts, and thus often served specific, somewhat propagandistic purposes. It is hardly surprising that military losses were not part of the desired narrative, and in some cases even substantial defeats were omitted from royal records, so that only the narrative written for the victorious party is preserved. A prominent example is the Assyrian defeat of Egypt in the first half of the 7th century BCE. Höflmayer (this publication) points out that while the falls of Memphis in 671 BCE and of Thebes in 663 BCE would have been profoundly traumatic events, they were completely omitted from the (otherwise very detailed) Egyptian records. The kingdoms of the southern Levant experienced profound defeats when the Neo-Assyrian Empire expanded during the late 8th and early 7th centuries BCE, well before Egypt was assaulted. Three successive Assyrian kings—Tiglath-Pileser III, Shalmaneser V, and Sargon II—sent or led expeditions south into the Levant, with the latter subduing the northern Kingdom of Israel and conquering its capital Samaria in 720 BCE (for a recent discussion see Hasegawa, Levin, and Radner 2019). The region subsequently became a vassal state of Assyria, and its people were exposed to the Assyrian policy of deportation, which famously led to them being remembered as the ‘Ten Lost Tribes of Israel’ (for a sociological analysis of the topos, see Lyman 1998). The southern Kingdom of Judah fell shortly afterwards to an army under King Sennacherib, who besieged, but did not destroy, its capital at Jerusalem in 701 BCE. The Assyrian siege of Jerusalem has had such repercussions that Seth Richardson even referred to it as a “world event” (Richardson 2014), highlighting its symbolic importance. Different interpretations of the course of events have been presented, but all agree that the southern Levant suffered an overwhelming defeat by the Assyrian empire (Gallagher 1999; Grabbe 2003; Kalimi and Richardson 2014; Matty 2016). The period that followed this defeat has generally been characterized as being one of economic prosperity under Assyrian control,

264

KATHARINA STREIT

and has even been labelled the pax Assyriaca (e.g. Fales 2008; Fantalkin 2004; Younger 2015), in reference to the more well-known pax Romana. However, recently acquired archaeological data has begun to raise doubts about this interpretation, suggesting instead that the defeated population might have experienced substantially less prosperity in the aftermath than initially assumed (Faust 2011; Faust 2018, 21–55).

2. SOURCES A range of archaeological data corresponds to this defeat event, or has at least been dated to its aftermath and been used to reconstruct its political, socio-demographic, economic, and cultural aspects. Survey and excavation data have revealed occupation histories and hiatuses, destruction layers, and changes in material culture including ceramics, architectural layouts, and burials (Faust 2018 and references therein). Excavations have also uncovered numerous epigraphic finds written in Akkadian and Hebrew, such as stelae, sales contracts, and administrative documents (e.g. at Tel Hadid, Gezer, and Kusiya: Naʾaman 2016, 276–278; Naʾaman and Zadok 2000; Aster and Faust 2015; Zilberg 2016; Zilberg 2018; Tell Jemmeh: Naveh 1985). Architectural evidence includes the identification of Assyrian ‘fortresses’ and related buildings at Tell Jemmeh (Ben-Shlomo 2014), Tel Haror (Oren 1993a), Khirbet Hoga and Nahal Shiqma (Naʾaman 1979), Tell Qudadi (Fantalkin and Tal 2009), Rishon Le-Ziyyon (Levy, Peilstöcker, and Ginzburg 2004), Ashdod (Kogan-Sahavi 2006), Tell er-Ruqeish (Oren 1993b), and Ayelet ha-Shachar (Kletter and Zwickel 2006, contra Faust 2015, 770). Further Assyrian centres or points of control have been reconstructed at Ben-Shemen (Leichty 2011, 291–292) and Qaqun (Leichty 2011, 190–191) based on Assyrian royal inscriptions uncovered at those sites. Using archaeological datasets to discern the functions of the Assyrian provincial capitals mentioned in written documents has proven contentious (e.g. Magidû/Megiddo: Macchi 1994; Stern 1990; Duʾru (Dor?): Naʾaman 2009), and no consensus has been reached. It has even been argued that Judah never became a ‘proper’ province, and that control of the region was never strict, possibly because it was not economically significant (Zilberg 2016).

AFTER THE STORM

265

Nevertheless, the physical presence of at least small numbers of Assyrians in the southern Levant is often based on material culture, such as the so-called ‘Assyrian Palace Ware’, which has been interpreted as ethnic marker for the presence of Assyrians (e.g. Engstrom 2004; Singer-Avitz 2007; Naʾaman and Thareani-Sussely 2006). Evidence for physical violence of the Assyrian army is frequently seen in mass burials which have been connected the Assyrian invasion have been uncovered at Tel Lachish (c. 1500 individuals: Starkey 1936; Risdon 1939) and at Ashdod (2434 individuals, of which some appear to have been beheaded: Bachi and Ben-Dov 1971, 92–94; Haas 1971). Evidence for executions among members of the subjugated population has also been observed in human remains from Khirbet Shemsin, which date to the second half of the 8th century BCE, and which have therefore been interpreted as victims of the Assyrian conquest (Cohen et al. 2015). In addition to ample archaeological data, written evidence authored by both the Assyrian victors and the Levantine vanquished has allowed the impact of the defeat to be reconstructed. The Assyrian conquest features heavily in a number of books of the Hebrew Bible. The most detailed account of the course of events is found in 2 Kings 15–21. The dating of this source is disputed, with some arguing for an almost exclusively post-exilic origin (mainly those following Noth 1968); while others believe that substantial parts of the text predate it (for a summary of the debate see McKenzie 1991). A comparable account can be seen in 2 Chronicles 28–33. While it is generally accepted that this book dates to the later Persian period, it is also apparent that the Chronicler relied heavily on the Deuteronomistic histories found in the books of Samuel and Kings (Kalimi 2005), though a minority adhere to the theory that the accounts in Kings and Chronicles share a common source (Pearson 2010). Among the prophetic literature, the looming Assyrian invasion is the topic most germane to the prophet Isaiah, who was active in Judah in the 8th century BCE. Among the complex chronological and editorial layers of the Book of Isaiah, only parts of its first section (‘proto-Isaiah’) are commonly ascribed to the prophet himself, followed by additions that date to the period of the Babylonian Exile (Blenkinsopp 2000). Isaiah 5–12 (Wildberger 1991) refers to Ahaz and his role in the SyroEphraimite war, and Isaiah 36–39 (Seitz 1991) features the Assyrian

266

KATHARINA STREIT

army poised to invade Judah, following a similar line of events depicted in 2 Kings 18–20 (for a recent analysis see Matty 2016, 119– 190). The prophet Micah was roughly contemporary to Isaiah, and was active in rural Judah. While the later parts of the Book of Micah have been ascribed to late pre-exilic and post-exilic sources, Micah 1–3 is likely to reflect contemporary accounts (Wolff 1981, contra Hillers 1984). Its composition is marked by alternating oracles of judgment and restoration, referring both to the fall of Samaria (Micah 1:2–7) and the invasion into Judah (Micah 1:8–16), where Lachish is singled out and condemned for its corrupt ways (Micah 1:13). Further, while it is evident that the Book of Hosea was extensively edited in postexilic periods, some have argued for a substantial pre-722 BCE background for this northern prophet (Crüsemann 2002). References to Assyrian power are evident in the greater part in Hosea 4–14, and it has recently been suggested that the composition contains multiple Akkadian influences (Aster 2018, 102–104). Shawn Zelig Aster has also proposed that Assyrian imperial ideology and rhetoric might have inspired Psalms 2 and 21 (Aster 2018, 98–101). The events also feature in Assyrian written sources. In contrast to the Biblical account, the vast majority of Assyrian records did not undergo redactions and their interpretation is therefore less contested. Nevertheless, differences between official and private records should be noted, because they not only served different purposes, but were also generated by different segments of society. The most prominent royal records include the vast corpus of annals and royal inscriptions of the Neo-Assyrian Period. Numerous inscriptions of Tiglath-Pileser III found on wall slabs in Nimrud allude to the conquest of ‘Beit Humria’ (in reference to the Omride dynasty of the northern kingdom), as well as the deportation of captives. Examples of the latter can be found in Annals Inscription 24 (Tadmor and Yamada 2011 i.e. RINAP 1:21; which mentions the much-quoted number of 13.520 deportees), Annals Inscription 18 (RINAP 1:22), and Summary Inscriptions 4 (RINAP 1:42), 13 (RINAP 1:44), 9 (RINAP 1:49) and 10 (RINAP 1:50). Judah is among the list of lands that pay tribute to Tiglath-Pileser III on a tablet uncovered in Nimrud that bears a copy of Summary Inscription 7 (RINAP 1:47). The Great Summary Inscription of Sargon II (Fuchs 1994, 189–248) and the Nimrud Prisms (D & E) mention the siege of, and deportees

AFTER THE STORM

267

from, Samaria (Gadd 1954, 179–182). Ample evidence for the defeat of Judah is known from Sennacherib’s sources, including cylinders and prisms. Several mention 200.150 individuals that were carried off from Judah (the Rassam Cylinder: Grayson and Novotny 2012, 2014 i.e. RINAP 3:4; Cylinders C: RINAP 3:15; and D: RINAP 3:16; the King Prism: RINAP 3:17; Prism Fragments BM 127845+: RINAP 3:18; the Chicago/Taylor Prism: RINAP 3:22; the Jerusalem Prism: RINAP 3:23; and BM 121025: RINAP 3:26). Tablets found in Nineveh include the Nebi Yunus Inscription (RINAP 3:34), K 02627, K 02666, K 02676 (RINAP 3:140), BM 134496, BM 134600 (RINAP 3:142), and K 04507 (RINAP 3:143), and there are inscriptions on human-headed bull colossi (RINAP 3:42, 44, 45, 46). These accounts can be further extended to include the Assyrian Eponym Chronicle (Millard 1994). The defeat of the southern Levant is also reflected in letters and official administrative documents, examples of which include archival letters found in Nimrud that date to the reigns of Tiglath-Pileser III and Sargon II. Letter ND 2443+ appears to mention the deportation of Israelites to Media (Galil 2009), ND 2765 mentions tribute payments from Judah, mainly in form of horses, and ND 2608 refers to military troops from Judah operating under Assyrian command and is regarded as evidence for the political status of Judah in this period (Dalley 2004). Further mentions of tribute payments can be found in K 1295, uncovered in Nineveh and bearing a ‘tribute list’ (Zilberg 2016, 388–389). In addition to direct mentions of southern Levantine states, Western Semitic names have been identified in large numbers in administrative documents from Nimrud, such as the ‘Wine Lists’ (Kinnier Wilson 1972) and the so-called ‘Horse Lists’ (Dalley 1985). Western Semitic names have also been attested in private archives, such as the administrative archive of Šamaš-šarra-usur (Zadok 2013). These sources not only attest to the presence of southern Levantines (possibly deportees) in Mesopotamia, but provide insights into their professions and social status (Zadok 2015). Excavations in Israel have uncovered numerous epigraphic finds written in Akkadian and Hebrew, including stelae, sales contracts, and administrative documents that can be used to investigate how the administration in the southern Levant changed (for recent summary see Naʾaman 2016; Zilberg 2016). Notable finds include sales

268

KATHARINA STREIT

documents written in Akkadian that have been found at Tel Hadid (Naʾaman and Zadok 2000), Tel Gezer (Aster and Faust 2015), and Khirbet Kusiya (Horowitz and Oshima 2006, 100–101), and Assyrian royal stele uncovered at Qaqun and Ben-Shemen (Leichty 2011, 190– 191, 291–292). Two ostraca bearing lists of Western Semitic and nonSemitic names were uncovered at Tell Jemmeh (Naveh 1985), and may be evidence for deportees from Assyria whose children adopted or were given local names once they settled in the southern Levant.

3. POLITICAL AND ECONOMIC ASPECTS The political aspects of defeat might be the first that come to mind, because defeats usually entail substantial shifts in political systems and often result in the defeated being dependent on the victor. This was the case following the Assyrian conquest of the southern Levant, after which an independent kingdom such as Israel might have been subdivided into provinces (Zilberg 2018; Macchi 1994; Stern 1990), or another such as Judah might have transitioned into a vassal state (MacGinnis, Wicke, and T. Greenfield 2016; Bagg 2013). The names and approximate borders of provinces (and their capitals), such as Megiddo, Samaria, and Dor in the northern kingdom, are known from textual sources, but the extent of Assyrian control might also be identified based on archaeological data, including the ‘Assyrian fortresses’ mentioned above, ceramic assemblages (Zilberg 2018), or the orthogonal city plan and large administrative structures found in Megiddo Stratum III (Macchi 1994; Stern 1990). In contrast to Israel, Judah never became a ‘proper’ province, and control of the region never become as tight, possibly because it was not economically significant (Zilberg 2016). Differences between their administrative systems have been observed (Aster and Faust 2015; Naʾaman 1995), but assessments of whether they had any connection to the Assyrian provincial system or impacted on the economic development of the area have largely been based on the prospective pax Assyriaca. This need not be the default perspective. Data that suggest a time of peaceful prosperity can also be used to show that prosperity was localised. The pax Assyriaca concept implies that instead of merely extracting short-term profits from newly conquered regions, the Assyrian empire had a strong interest in maintaining (and even increasing) long-term economic outputs, trade relations, and the general sustain-

AFTER THE STORM

269

ability of the southern Levant to ensure maximum profits. This generally positive reconstruction was based primarily on Assyrian documents, and those who argue for intensive involvement (and interest) by Assyrians in local economies have suggested that the main intention was to extract taxes from conquered regions (Younger 2015). This assessment may be inaccurate. Avraham Faust’s detailed survey of archaeological data from the southern Levant uncovered evidence for substantial devastation in the region. The number of settlements and their physical extents appear to have plummeted in the aftermath of the defeat, with Galilee, the Gilead and Samaria suffering the most pronounced declines. Other areas, such as the northern coastal plain and the Jezreel Valley, seem to have maintained their populations, but experienced a reduced level of regional significance (Faust 2015). Faust’s data also suggests that while regions bordering those controlled by Assyria, such as Philistia, witnessed increased production and trade—for example in olive oil from Ekron—areas under direct Assyrian control went into a substantial decline after the defeat (Faust 2011; Faust 2018, 21–33). Large-scale olive oil production may have transpired at Ekron during the 7th century BCE, but this does not necessarily indicate economic prosperity in other parts of the region. Faust concluded that there were significant regional differences, and that only adjacent regions profited from the new situation as “the Assyrian provinces were too devastated and could not take part in the 7th century prosperity” (Faust 2011, 78). The effects of the defeat on the local economy in general appear to be more negative than initially assumed, which is consistent with a changing, even declining, population, and with the extent of the destructions noted above. Possible changes to subsistence have not yet been examined, and while no profound long-term changes should be expected, a major siege and the subsequent devastation of common means of subsistence, such as fields and livestock, combined with substantial population movements, must have led to shortages. It is unclear whether references to cannibalism during siege and in the aftermath of the defeat, as depicted in the Hebrew Bible (e.g. Isaiah 9:19–20) and Assyrian sources (such as the Vassal Treaties of Esarhaddon) should be taken for face value (Zorn 2014, 80–81, contra J.

270

KATHARINA STREIT

C. Greenfield 2001; see also Bosman 2012), but they are evidence for a theme that reflects dietary (and psychological) distress. It is likely that the political order imposed by the Assyrian victors also provoked counter reactions. Yifat Thareani (Thareani 2018), in a paper aptly entitled “Revenge of the Conquered”, argues for this at Tel Dan based on some non-conformist settlement developments apparent at the site. Resistance to Assyrian control, and thus an unwillingness to accept defeat, has also been suggested based on Biblical sources (Fales 2008), though the political status of the local ruling elites and wider population has barely been discussed. In 2 Kings 18:19–35 and Isaiah 36: 4–20 the Biblical narrative describes the encounter between the rābšaqê, a high-ranking Assyrian official, and representatives of the Judean king in Jerusalem. In the account, the rābšaqê attempts to convince the Judean officials of the benefits of submitting to Assyrian control, and even addresses the local population directly, in Hebrew, to promote the benefits of exile (Gallagher 1999, 187–201). William R. Gallagher (Gallagher 1994) proposed that there are Assyrian parallels to the Biblical account that support the notion of deportation propaganda being part of the Assyrian strategy. The prospect of acquiring land might have had a significant impact on the perception, and thus acceptance, of the defeat, particularly for those of low social status.

4. SOCIO -DEMOGRAPHIC ASPECTS The earliest socio-demographic changes associated with the Assyrian expansion probably started in the southern Levant even prior to the actual defeat event. These would have included the movement of refugees within the region, typically from the countryside to urban centres (Broshi and Finkelstein 1992; Finkelstein and Silberman 2001, 243; Zorn 2014, 89–90). Aaron Burke has referred to refugees as “risk induced self-migrants” (Burke 2011; Burke 2014), pointing out that refugees were largely marginalized and silent groups in the past (and the present?), despite frequent references to them in written sources. For example, the Biblical account mentions refugees in Isaiah’s oracles against Judah (Isaiah 10:3–4), stressing their weak and vulnerable status in an active war zone, and their (from the prophetic perspective) desperate attempts to escape the situation. Jeffrey R. Zorn (Zorn 2014, 89–90) points out, based on a survey of Biblical sources

AFTER THE STORM

271

on the phenomenon of refugees in general, that the Hebrew Bible is sympathetic towards them and calls for compassion and support. But refugees can only be identified circumstantially in the archaeological record. The abrupt westward expansion of Jerusalem in the late 8th century BCE has been ascribed to the arrival of substantial numbers of refugees (Broshi 1974; Burke 2012, 272–277), but whether this was primarily due to the arrival of displaced people from the northern kingdom after the fall of Samaria (Broshi and Finkelstein 1992; Finkelstein and Silberman 2001, 243) or to Judeans seeking refuge ahead of the immanent conquest by Sennacherib (Naʾaman 2007) is disputed. Regardless of their Israelite or Judean origin, an influx of refugees would have greatly increased the workforce of Jerusalem and may thus have contributed to the realisation of largescale public works, such as the construction of the ‘Broad Wall’ of Area A of the Western Hill (Avigad and Geva 2000), which has been identified with fortifications mentioned in Isaiah 22:9–10. Burke further considered settlement expansions into the Judean Desert or the Jordan Valley as possible indicator for an influx of refugees (Burke 2012, 282–284), but the data is insufficient to categorically support the argument. Assyrian sources mention large numbers of fugitive populations, though without a clear distinction between civilian refugees and military deserters. The terminology instead distinguished between those who aimed to join the Assyrians (ḫalāqu: ‘to escape, flee’; abātu: ‘to run away’) and those who fell into the Assyrian hands unintentionally (maqātu: ‘to fall, come appear’; Dubovský 2014, 259–260). Many inhabitants of Israel and Judah faced deportation to Assyria after the defeat inflicted by the Assyrian army. This was common practice in the Assyrian empire, and served a range of political and economic functions (Oded 1979). Assyrians aimed to frame such deportations as positive experiences, providing incentives and stressing the benefits to the deportees, as illustrated by the speech of the rābšaqê in 2 Kings 18:19–35 and Isaiah 36:4–20, discussed above. Such benefits might not have been misleading or propaganda, given that letters between Assyrian officials contain instructions to settle deportees and to allow them to build houses (Gallagher 1994). Deportations from the southern Levant to Assyria occurred in several waves under different Assyrian kings from around 734 to 700 BCE, and

272

KATHARINA STREIT

were mentioned in such Assyrian written sources as the ‘Summary Inscription’ of Sargon II and the Nimrud Prism (for summary and discussion of the various sources broken down by kings, see Younger 1998). Biblical accounts also contain evidence for deportations, with some (2 Kings 17:3–6; 2 Kings 18:11; 1 Chronicles 5:26) even mentioning the names of final destinations, such as Halah (reconstructed as the Assyrian province of Halahha), Habor by the river of Gozan (the Assyrian city of Guzana, modern Tell Halaf) and Medes (probably referring to the Assyrian city of Harhar and its environs). Contrary to what the narrative of ‘lost’ tribes might suggest, deportees from the southern Levant can to a certain degree be traced in these and other locations. Those from the southern Levant are apparent in written sources through ethnic signifiers, such as ‘Beit Humri’ referring to the Omride dynasty of Israel and ‘Samarians’ referring to the capital city (for a summary and detailed occurrences see Ephʾal 1991), or the personal names of individuals. The southern Levantine descent of such individuals can be reflected in the theophoric element of Yahweh (e.g. ia-u/ú, iu-u/ú, i-a-ú, ia-u, ia-a-u) or in the root of names that are otherwise only attested in Hebrew. Ran Zadok proposes that 101 names are clearly attested in letters, contracts, and administrative texts (Zadok 2015). Substantial numbers of these names have been observed in the three main destinations of deportees referred to in the Biblical narrative, as well as in the capitals of Assyria (the earlier one at Ashur and the later one at Nimrud), supporting the historicity of the written accounts of the defeated (and deported) party (Oded 2000). Rather surprisingly, a detailed re-evaluation of the material culture from key sites in these regions to search for evidence of southern Levantine traditions has not yet been undertaken. The available records allow the reconstruction of at least some aspects of the life of these deportees, and show that they served in a variety of functions. Notable are their roles as military personnel, particularly as charioteers (in the ‘Horse List’ of Sargon II; Dalley 1985), officials and palace personnel, landowners, skilled labourers, merchants, and even priests (Younger 2003, 269–278). It has rightly been pointed out, however, that the vast majority of deportees did not succeed in rising up in the social hierarchy, but were instead sold into slavery, lived as agricultural or construction workers, or were

AFTER THE STORM

273

settled in front-line regions for (semi-)defensive purposes (Zadok 2015, 173–175; Younger 2003, 378–384). However, even if significant social advancement was restricted to a select few, deportation and resettlement might have provided unique opportunities for some Judeans and Israelites. Gallagher has argued (Gallagher 1994, 63) that people of low social standing could have become property owners, and that the defeat might therefore have led them to unprecedented social mobility. It remains unclear whether the remaining population of Israel and Judah was aware of the fate of the deportees, or whether they were indeed considered ‘lost’ tribes. Zadok envisaged interactions between descendants of the Assyrian deportees and Judeans deported by Nebuchadnezzar II, a few generations later, but this remains in the realm of speculation (Zadok 2015, 176). Yet those in Israel and Judah who escaped deportation were still exposed to Assyria’s deportation policies, as its notorious ‘two-way’ deportation policy involved the intentional settling of non-local populations from the north in the southern Levantine region (Naʾaman 1993; Levin 2013). Such deportations are attested in the Assyrian sources, including from the reigns of Tiglath-Pileser III, Sargon II and Esarhaddon (Naʾaman 2016, 279 and references therein), but are also evident in the dataset of the southern Levant. The Biblical account mentions foreigners brought into the northern Kingdom (2 Kings 17:24), while cuneiform tables, mainly sales contracts found at Tel Hadid, Gezer, and Kusiya (Naʾaman 2016, 276– 278; Naʾaman and Zadok 2000), include a range of Akkadian, Elamite, and Babylonian names. The fact that these documents were written in cuneiform could be interpreted as the result of a new Assyrian administration system, but might also result from an influx of populations for whom cuneiform was the preferred script (Naʾaman 2016, 277). Archaeological evidence in the southern Levant might also support the notion of an influx of non-local populations. The mudbrick rib-vault structure at Tell Jemmeh, the appearance of the so-called ‘Assyrian Palace Ware’, and the presence of ostraca bearing Assyrian names have all been connected by Nadav Naʾaman with Sargon’s deportations from the Zagros Mountains to the ‘Brook of Egypt’ (Naʾaman 2016, 277–278), which might be reconstructed as being the

274

KATHARINA STREIT

region of Nahal Beer Sheva and Nahal Grar in the Negev (Naʾaman 1979, 85). Naʾaman pointed out that genealogies can be reconstructed well enough to observe that some children with western Semitic names had parents who bore Assyrian names, concluding that “this pattern of name distribution is typical in immigrant communities: the parents bear the name of their homeland, but the second generation has local names, adapted to the new environment” (Naʾaman 2016, 278). Adopting the names used by a local, defeated population was considered acceptable. That local, defeated population probably had to engage not only with the Assyrian authorities, but also with foreign populations who had settled in the area. Feeling ‘foreign’ in one’s own homeland and competing for resources in the already weakened land would have been unwelcome side effects of the Assyrian conquest, ones that would have stressed the magnitude of the defeat and delayed any recovery. How far the ‘two-way’ deportation policy managed to counterbalance the demographic decline of the region is different to quantify, but Faust (Faust 2018, 34) has concluded that “the number of deportees who arrived was insignificant; they could not compensate for the losses and were settled in limited areas to support specific goals.” Indeed, the Assyrian army is infamous for subjecting defeated states to extreme destruction and violence. In the southern Levant this is apparent from substantial destruction layers that have been ascribed to the Assyrian conquest (Killebrew 2014, 738–739; Hardin 2014, 749–750), some of them associated with mass burials (Starkey 1936; Risdon 1939). Igor Kreimerman (Kreimerman 2017, 24–25) has recently pointed out that the occupants of a city typically make every effort to remove dead bodies from war or disaster debris, for cultural as well as hygiene reasons. It is likely that the mass burials at Lachish and Ashdod are the results of such efforts. There is also considerable iconographic and forensic evidence for torture (Cohen et al. 2015), including amputation of limbs and genitalia, decapitation, excoriation, and the public display of corpses (Bleibtreu 1991). It is hard to judge whether such gruesome treatment was the exception or the rule, and there is some evidence suggesting that certain gender and age groups received different treatment. Philippe Clancier, in a paper appropriately titled “Warlike Men and Invisible Women”, states that

AFTER THE STORM

275

“attacking what were seen as the weakest categories of the population was not considered an act of bravery” (Clancier 2014, 25). It should also be stressed that cruelty of sort attributed to the Assyrian army was by no means unusual in the ancient Near East. Zorn draws attention to the Biblical word herem (‫)חרם‬, which denoted the slaughter (or sacrifice) of entire groups of people to the Israelite God (Zorn 2014, 87–88) following their subjugation. But it is evident that violent death accompanied any defeat by the Assyrian army, even if it is impossible to reconstruct actual numbers. This probably resulted in a significant demographic reduction, and could have resulted in a gender imbalance if males were the primary targets (see e.g. Isaiah 10:2 for the specific mention of widows). If the Assyrian practice of openly displaying cruelties in iconography was reflected in reality, then the surviving population may have been left deeply traumatized. If so, then the mind-set of the defeated party would have been affected for decades, if not generations.

5. CONCLUSIONS With research still predominantly focusing on victors and their conquests, there is much about the aftermath of major defeats that remains poorly understood. Yet the wide range of written and archaeological sources available for the southern Levant mean that this is an excellent laboratory for the study of such a defeat. It seems evident, even without detailed examination, that a significant defeat will have a profound impact on nearly all aspects of a society, because societies are created by shared experiences and connections. For example, a defeat will affect dominant political systems by dramatically altering the status of local elites, either by imprisonment, execution, or exile. This will affect the attitudes of lower social strata, who will either accept or resist the situation depending on the nature and extent of the defeat, and on the social structures it disrupts. Such disruptions will affect the economic status of a wide region, negatively impacting the areas that experienced the defeat but perhaps affording opportunities to those that border them, a situation that might, thousands of years later, closely resemble the pax Assyriaca paradigm. The sociodemographic impacts on a society are probably most profound following a defeat event, due to upheavals that accompany substantial population movements within, from, and towards the affected area.

276

KATHARINA STREIT

Overall, the study of defeat allows (and requires) a holistic approach to the study of an ancient society, and provides a lens through which to analyse a wide range of interconnected components that, taken together, encompass the functioning of a community. Defeat is a recurring motif in the ancient literary corpus, and the effects of a defeat can go beyond mere descriptions of historical events. The invasions by Assyria (and Babylon) shaped, if they didn’t wholly determine, a Biblical corpus (Römer 2012) that has maintained its religious and cultural importance to this day. The study of defeat events therefore aims to understand both the “historical wisdom” (Schivelbusch 2003, 3) that can be gained from such events, as well as to explore other aspects of accounts in the literature of the ancient Near East that pertain to defeat. Detailed analyses of welldocumented defeat events also allow researchers to distil the coping mechanisms of societies in antiquity, and to set them in the wider context of understanding the impacts of societal stress. They thus not only allow the reconstruction of a more complete, nuanced, and indeed realistic picture of the social landscape of the Iron Age southern Levant, but potentially have wider applications for those who seek to understand, and even manage, the results of conflict in the modern world.

ABBREVIATIONS BM K ND RINAP

British Museum Museum siglum of the British Museum in London (Kuyunjik) Field numbers of tablets excavated at Nimrud Grayson and Novotny 2012–2014; Leichty 2011; Tadmor and Yamada 2011.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Afflerbach, Holger 2013. Die Kunst der Niederlage: Eine Geschichte der Kapitulation. München: C. H. Beck. Aster, Shawn Zelig 2018. “Treaty and Prophecy: A Survey of Biblical Reactions to Neo-Assyrian Political Thought.” In The Southern Levant Under Assyrian Domination, edited by Shawn Zelig Aster and Avraham Faust, 89–118. University Park, PA: Eisenbrauns.

AFTER THE STORM

277

Aster, Shawn Zelig, and Avraham Faust 2015. “Administrative Texts, Royal Inscriptions and Neo-Assyrian Administration in the Southern Levant: The View from the Aphek-Gezer Region.” Orientalia 84(3): 292–308. Aster, Shawn Zelig, and Avraham Faust, eds. 2018. The Southern Levant under Assyrian Domination. University Park, PA: Eisenbrauns. Avigad, Nahman, and Hilel Geva 2000. “Iron Age II Strata 9–7.” In Jewish Quarter Excavations in the Old City of Jerusalem Conducted by Nahman Avigad, 1969–1982, Vol. 1: Architecture and Stratigraphy: Areas A, Wand X-2: Final Report, edited by Hilel Geva, 44–82. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society. Bachi, Gabriella, and Meir Ben-Dov 1971. “Area D.” In Ashdod II– III: The Second and Third Season of Excavation, 1963, 1965, Soundings in 1967, edited by Moshe Dothan, 86–124. Jerusalem: Department of Antiquities and Museums in the Ministry of Education and Culture. Backer, Fabrice de 2013. L’art du siège néo-assyrien. Leiden, Boston: Brill. Bagg, Ariel M. 2013. “Palestine under Assyrian Rule: A New Look at the Assyrian Imperial Policy in the West.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 133(1): 119–144. Ben-Shlomo, David 2014. “Tell Jemmeh, Philistia and the NeoAssyrian Empire During the Late Iron Age.” Levant 46(1): 58– 88. Berlejung, Angelika, ed. 2012. Disaster and Relief Management: Katastrophen und ihre Bewältigung. Forschungen zum Alten Testament 81. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Bleibtreu, Erika 1991. “Grisly Assyrian Record of Torture and Death.” Biblical Archaeology Review 17(1): 52–61. Blenkinsopp, Joseph 2000. Isaiah 1–39. The Anchor Yale Bible Commentaries 19. New York: Doubleday. Boase, Elizabeth, and Christopher G. Frechette, eds. 2016. Bible Through the Lens of Trauma. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature. Bosman, Hendrik 2012. “The Function of (Maternal) Cannibalism in the Book of Lamentations (2:20 & 4:10).” Scriptura 110(2): 152– 165.

278

KATHARINA STREIT

Bradtmöller, Marcel, Sonja Grimm, and Julien Riel-Salvator 2017. “Resilience Theory in Archaeological Practice – An Annotated Review.” Quaternary International 446(2): 3–16. Broshi, Magen 1974. “The Expansion of Jerusalem in the Reigns of Hezekiah and Manasseh.” Israel Exploration Journal 24(1): 21– 26. Broshi, Magen, and Israel Finkelstein 1992. “The Population of Palestine in Iron Age II.” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 287: 47–60. Burke, Aaron A. 2011. “An Anthropological Model for the Investigation of the Archaeology of Refugees in Iron Age Judah and Its Environs.” In Interpreting Exile: Interdisciplinary Studies of Displacement and Deportation in Biblical and Modern Contexts, edited by Brad E. Kelle, Frank R. Ames, and Jacob Wright, 41–56. Ancient Israel and Its Literature 10. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature. Burke, Aaron A. 2012. “Coping with the Effects of War: Refugees in the Levant during the Bronze and Iron Ages.” In Disaster and Relief Management: Katastrophen und ihre Bewältigung, edited by Angelika Berlejung, 263–287. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Burke, Aaron A. 2014. “Introduction to the Levant during the Middle Bronze Age.” In The Oxford Handbook of the Archaeology of the Levant: c. 8000–332 BCE, edited by Margreet L. Steiner and Ann E. Killebrew, 403–413. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Clancier, Philippe 2014. “Warlike Men and Invisible Women: How Scribes in the Ancient Near East Represented Warfare.” Clio 39: 17–34. Cohen, Haim, Vivian Slon, Alon Barash, Hila May, Bahaa Medlej, and Israel Hershkovitz 2015. “Assyrian Attitude towards Captive Enemies: A 2700-Year-Old Paleo-Forensic Study.” International Journal of Osteoarchaeology 25: 265–280. Crüsemann, Frank 2002. “Atah - »Jetzt«. Hosea 4-11 Als Anfang der Schriftprophetie.” In “Wort JHWHs, Das Geschah. . .” (Hos 1,1): Studien zum Zwölfprophetenbuch, edited by Erich Zenger, 13–32. Herders Biblische Studien 35. Freiburg: Herder. Dalley, Stephanie 1985. “Foreign Chariotry and Cavalry in the Armies of Tiglath-Pileser III and Sargon II.” Iraq 47: 31–48.

AFTER THE STORM

279

Dalley, Stephanie 2004. “Recent Evidence from Assyrian Sources from Judean History from Uzziah to Menasseh.” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 28(4): 387–401. Dothan, Moshe, ed. 1971. Ashdod II–III: The Second and Third Season of Excavation, 1963, 1965, Soundings in 1967. Atiqot: English Series 9–10. Jerusalem: Department of Antiquities and Museums in the Ministry of Education and Culture. Dubovský, Peter 2014. “Sennacherib’s Invasion of the Levant through the Eyes of the Assyrian Intelligence Services.” In Sennacherib at the Gates of Jerusalem: Story, History and Historiography, edited by Isaac Kalimi and Seth Richardson, 249–291. Leiden: Brill. Engstrom, Christin M. A. 2004. “The Neo-Assyrians at Tell El-Hesi: A Petrographic Study of Imitation Assyrian Palace Ware.” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 333: 69–81. Ephʾal, Israel 1991. “‘The Samarian(s)’ in the Assyrian Sources.” In Ah, Assyria. . . Studies in Assyrian History and Ancient Near Eastern Historiography Presented to Hayim Tadmor, edited by Mordechai Cogan and Israel Ephʾal, 36–45. Jerusalem: Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Fagan, Garrett, and Matthew Trundle, eds. 2010. New Perspectives on Ancient Warfare. Leiden, Boston: Brill. Fales, Frederick Mario. 2008. “On Pax Assyriaca in the Eight-Seventh Centuries BCE and Its Implications.” In Isaiah’s Vision of Peace in Biblical and Modern International Relations, edited by Raymond Cohen and Raymond Westbrook, 17–35. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Fantalkin, Alexander 2004. “The Final Destruction of Beth Shemesh and the Pax Assyriaca in the Judahite Shephelah: An Alternative View.” Tel Aviv 31: 245–261. Fantalkin, Alexander, and Oren Tal 2009. “Re-Discovering the Iron Age Fortress at Tell Qudadi in the Context of Neo-Assyrian Imperialistic Policies.” Palestine Exploration Quarterly 141(3): 188–206. Faust, Avraham 2011. “The Interests of the Assyrian Empire in the West: Olive Oil Production as a Test-Case.” Journal of Economic and Social History of the Orient 54: 62–86.

280

KATHARINA STREIT

Faust, Avraham 2015. “Settlement, Economy, and Demography under Assyrian Rule in the West: The Territories of the Former Kingdom of Israel as a Test Case.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 135(4): 765–89. Faust, Avraham 2018. “The Assyrian Century in the Southern Levant: An Overview of the Reality on the Ground.” In The Southern Levant under Assyrian Domination, edited by Shawn Zelig Aster and Avraham Faust, 20–55. University Park, PA: Eisenbrauns. Finkelstein, Israel, and Neil Asher Silberman 2001. The Bible Unearthed: Archaeology’s New Vision of Ancient Israel and the Origin of Its Sacred Texts. New York: Free Press. Fuchs, Andreas 1994. Die Inschriften Sargons II. aus Khorsabad. Göttingen: Cuvillier. Gadd, Cyril J. 1954. “The Prism Inscriptions of Sargon.” Iraq 16(2): 173–201. Galil, Gershon 2009. “Israelite Exiles in Media: A New Look at ND 2443+.” Vetus Testamentum 59: 71–79. Gallagher, William R. 1994. “Assyrian Deportation Propaganda.” State Archives of Assyria Bulletin 8: 57–65. Gallagher, William R. 1999. Sennacherib’s Campaign to Judah: New Studies. Studies in the History and Culture of the Ancient Near East 18. Leiden: Brill. Ginio, Eyal 2016. The Ottoman Culture of Defeat: The Balkan Wars and Their Aftermath. London: C. Hurst & Co. Grabbe, Lester L, ed. 2003. ‘Like a Bird in a Cage’: The Invasion of Sennacherib in 701 BCE. European Seminar in Historical Methodology 4. London: Sheffield Academic Press. Grayson, A. Kirk, and Jamie Novotny 2012-2014. The Royal Inscriptions of Sennacherib, King of Assyria. Royal Inscriptions of the Neo-Assyrian Period 3. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Greenfield, Jonas C. 2001. “Dove’s Dung and the Price of Food: The Topoi of II Kings 6:24–7:2.” In ‘Al Kanfei Yonah: Collected Studies of Jonas C. Greenfield on Semitic Philology, edited by Shalom M. Paul, Michael E. Stone, and Avital Pinnick, 815–202. Leiden: Brill. Haas, Nicu 1971. “Anthropological Observations on the Skeletal Remains Found in Area D (1962-1963).” In Ashdod II–III: The

AFTER THE STORM

281

Second and Third Season of Excavation, 1963, 1965, Soundings in 1967, edited by Moshe Dothan, 212–213. Jerusalem: Department of Antiquities and Museums in the Ministry of Education and Culture. Hardin, James Walker 2014. “Judah during the Iron Age II Period.” In The Oxford Handbook of the Archaeology of the Levant: c. 8000–332 BCE, edited by Margreet L. Steiner and Ann E. Killebrew, 743–756. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Hasegawa, Shuichi, Christoph Levin, and Karen Radner, eds. 2019. The Last Days of the Kingdom of Israel. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 511. Berlin: De Gruyter. Hillers, Delbert R. 1984. Micah. Philadelphia: Fortress Press. Horowitz, Wayne, and T. Oshima 2006. Cuneiform in Canaan: Cuneiform Sources from the Land of Israel in Ancient Times. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society. Kalimi, Isaac 2005. The Reshaping of Ancient Israelite History in Chronicles. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Kalimi, Isaac, and Seth Richardson, eds. 2014. Sennacherib at the Gates of Jerusalem: Story, History and Historiography. Culture and History of the Ancient Near East 71. Leiden: Brill. Killebrew, Ann E. 2014. “Israel during the Iron Age II Period.” In The Oxford Handbook of the Archaeology of the Levant: c. 8000–332 BCE, edited by Margreet L. Steiner and Ann E. Killebrew, 730–742. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Kinnier Wilson, J. V. 1972. The Nimrud Wine Lists: A Study of Men and Administration at the Assyrian Capital in the Eighth Century B.C. London: British School of Archaeology in Iraq. Kletter, Raz, and Wolfgang Zwickel 2006. “The Assyrian Building of Ayellet Ha-Sahar.” Zeitschrift des Deutschen Palästina-Vereins 122(2): 151–186. Kogan-Sahavi, Elena 2006. “Tel Ashdod.” Hadashot Arkheologiyot Excavations and Surveys in Israel 118. http://www.hadashotesi.org.il/report_detail_eng.aspx?id=340&mag_id=111. Kreimerman, Igor 2017. “Skeletons in Bronze and Iron Age Destruction Contexts in the Southern Levant: What Do They Mean?” West & East 2: 13–30.

282

KATHARINA STREIT

Leichty, Erle 2011. The Royal Inscriptions of Esarhaddon, King of Assyria (680–669 BC). Royal Inscriptions of the Neo-Assyrian Period 4. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Levin, Yigal 2013. “Bi-Directional Forced Deportation in the NeoAssyrian Empire and the Origins of the Samartians: Colonialism and Hybridity.” Archaeological Review from Cambridge 28(1): 217–240. Levy, Yosef, Martin Peilstöcker, and A. Ginzburg 2004. “An Iron Age Fortress in the Sand Dunes of Rishon Letzion.” Qadmoniot 128: 92–94. Lyman, Stanford M. 1998. “The Lost Tribes of Israel as a Problem in History and Sociology.” International Journal of Politics, Culture and Society 12(1): 7–42. Macchi, Jean-Daniel 1994. “Megiddo à l’époque assyrienne. Remarques à propos du dossier archéologique.” Transeuphratène 7: 110–131. MacGinnis, John, Dick Wicke, and Tina Greenfield, eds. 2016. The Provincial Archaeology of the Assyrian Empire. Cambridge: McDonald Institute for Archaeological Research. Matty, Nazek Khalid 2016. Sennacherib’s Campaign against Judah and Jerusalem in 701 B.C. A Historical Reconstruction. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 487. Berlin: De Gruyter. McKenzie, Steve 1991. The Trouble with Kings: The Composition of the Book of Kings in the Deuteronomistic History. Supplement to Vetus Testamentum 42. Leiden: Brill. Millard, Alan R. 1994. The Eponyms of the Assyrian Empire 910–612 BC. Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project. Naʾaman, Nadav 1979. “The Brook of Egypt and Assyrian Policy on the Border of Egypt.” Tel Aviv 6: 68–90. Naʾaman, Nadav 1993. “Population Changes in Palestine Following Assyrian Deportations.” Tel Aviv 20(1): 104–24. Naʾaman, Nadav 1995. “Province System and Settlement Pattern in Southern Syria and Palestine in the Neo-Assyrian Period.” In Neo-Assyrian Geography, edited by Mario Liverani, 103–115. Quaderni di Geographia Storica 5. Rome: Università di Roma “La Sapienza.”

AFTER THE STORM

283

Naʾaman, Nadav 2007. “When and How Did Jerusalem Become a Great City? The Rise of Jerusalem as Judah’s Premier City in the Eighth-Seventh Centuries B.C.E.” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 347: 21–56. Naʾaman, Nadav 2009. “Was Dor the Capital of an Assyrian Province?” Tel Aviv 36: 95–109. Naʾaman, Nadav 2016. “Locating the Sites of Assyrian Deportees in Ancient Israel and Southern Palestine in Light of the Textual and Archaeological Evidence.” In The Provincial Archaeology of the Assyrian Empire, edited by John MacGinnis, Dick Wicke, and Tina Greenfield, 275–282. Cambridge: McDonald Institute for Archaeological Research. Naʾaman, Nadav, and Yifat Thareani-Sussely 2006. “Dating the Appearance of Imitations of Assyrian Ware in Southern Palestine.” Tel Aviv 33: 61–82. Naʾaman, Nadav, and Ran Zadok 2000. “Assyrian Deportations to the Provinces of Samerina in the Light of Two Cuneiform Tablets from Tel Hadid.” Tel Aviv 27(2): 159–188. Nadali, Davide 2014. “The Impact of War on Civilians in the NeoAssyrian Period.” In The Other Face of the Battle: The Impact of War on Civilians in the Ancient Near East, edited by Davide Nadali and Jordi Vidal, 101–111. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag. Nadali, Davide, and Jordi Vidal, eds. 2014. The Other Face of the Battle: The Impact of War on Civilians in the Ancient Near East. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag. Naveh, Joseph 1985. “Writing and Scripts in Seventh Century B.C.E. Philistia: The New Evidence from Tell Jemmeh.” Israel Exploration Journal 35: 8–21. Noth, Martin 1968. Könige. Biblischer Kommentar Altes Testament 9/1. Neukirchen: Neukirchener Verlag des Erziehungsvereins. O’Brien, Stephen, and Daniel Boatright, eds. 2013. Warfare and Society in the Ancient Eastern Mediterranean: Papers Arising from a Colloquium Held at the University of Liverpool, 13th June 2008. BAR International Series 2583. Oxford: Archaeopress. Oded, Bustenay 1979. Mass Deportations and Deportees in the NeoAssyrian Empire. Wiesbaden: Reichert.

284

KATHARINA STREIT

Oded, Bustenay 2000. “The Settlements of the Israelite and the Judean Exiles in Mesopotamia in the 8th–6th Centuries BCE.” In Studies in Historical Geography and Biblical Historiography: Presented to Zechariah Kallai, edited by Gershon Galil and Moshe Weinfeld, 91–103. Vetus Testamentum Supplements 81. Leiden: Brill. Oren, Eliezer D. 1993a. “Haror, Tel.” In The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy Land, edited by Ephraim J. Stern, 580–584. Jerusalem: The Israel Exploration Society & Carta. Oren, Eliezer D. 1993b. “Ruqeish.” In The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy Land, edited by Ephraim J. Stern, 1293–1294. Jerusalem: The Israel Exploration Society & Carta. Pearson, Raymond F. 2010. The Deuteronomic History and the Book of Chronicles. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature. Richardson, Seth 2014. “The First ‘World Event’: Sennacherib at Jerusalem.” In Sennacherib at the Gates of Jerusalem: Story, History and Historiography, edited by Isaac Kalimi and Seth Richardson, 433–505. Leiden: Brill. Risdon, D. L. 1939. “A Study of the Cranial and Other Human Remains from Palestine Excavated at Tell Duweir (Lachish) by the Wellcome-Marston Archaeological Research Expedition.” Biometrica 31: 99–166. Römer, Thomas 2012. “The Hebrew Bible as Crisis Literature.” In Disaster and Relief Management: Katastrophen und ihre Bewältigung, edited by Angelika Berlejung, 159–177. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Schivelbusch, Wolfgang 2003. The Culture of Defeat: On National Trauma, Mourning, and Recovery. New York: Granta. Seitz, Christopher R. 1991. Zion’s Final Destiny: The Development of the Book of Isaiah: A Re-Assessment of Isaiah 36–39. Minneapolis: Fortress Press. Shaw, Ian 1999. Egyptian Warfare and Weapons. Shire Egyptology. New York: Bloomsbury. Singer-Avitz, Lily 2007. “On Pottery in Assyrian Style: A Rejoinder.” Tel Aviv 34(2): 182–203.

AFTER THE STORM

285

Starkey, James L. 1936. “Discovery of Skulls with Surgical Holing at Tell Duweir, Palestine.” Man 36: 169–170. Steiner, Margreet L., and Ann E. Killebrew, eds. 2014. The Oxford Handbook of the Archaeology of the Levant: c. 8000–332 BCE. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Stern, Ephraim 1990. “Hazor, Dor and Megiddo in the Time of Ahab and Under Assyrian Rule.” Israel Exploration Journal 40(1): 12–30. Tadmor, Hayim, and Shigeo Yamada 2011. The Royal Inscriptions of Tiglath-Pileser III (744–727 BC) and Shalmaneser V (726–722 BC), Kings of Assyria. Royal Inscriptions of the Neo-Assyrian Period 1. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Thareani, Yifat 2018. “Revenge of Conquered: Paths of Resistance in the Assyrian City of Dan.” Semitica 60: 473–492. Wildberger, Hans 1991. Isaiah: A Continental Commentary. Minneapolis: Fortress Press. Wolff, Hans W. 1981. Dodekapropheton: Micha. Biblischer Kommentar Altes Testament 14/4. Neukirchen: Neukirchner Theologie. Yadin, Yigael 1963. The Art of Warfare in Biblical Lands: In the Light of Archaeological Study. New York: McGraw-Hill. Younger, K. Lawson 1998. “The Deportations of the Israelites.” Journal of Biblical Literature 117(2): 201–227. Younger, K. Lawson 2003. “‘Give Us Our Daily Bread’: Everyday Life for the Israelite Deportees.” In Life and Culture in the Ancient Near East, edited by Mark W. Chavalas, Richard E. Averbeck, and David B. Weisberg, 269–288. Potomac: CDL Press. Younger, K. Lawson 2015. “The Assyrian Economic Impact on the Southern Levant in the Light of Recent Studies.” Israel Exploration Journal 65: 179–204. Zadok, Ran 2013. “The Archive of Šamaš-Šarra-Usụ R from Calah.” In In the Shadow of Bezalel: Aramaic, Biblical, and Ancient Near Eastern Studies in Honor of Bezalel Porten, edited by Alejandro F. Botta, 387–407. Leiden, Boston: Brill. Zadok, Ran 2015. “Israelites and Judeans in the Neo-Assyrian Documentation (732–602 B.C.E.): An Overview of the Sources and a Socio-Historical Assessment.” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 372: 159–189.

286

KATHARINA STREIT

Zilberg, Peter 2016. “The Assyrian Empire and Judah: Royal Assyrian Archives and Other Historical Documents.” In From Shaʾar Hagolan to Shaaraim: Essays in Honor of Prof. Yosef Garfinkel, edited by Saar Ganor, Igor Kreimerman, Katharina Streit, and Madeleine Mumcuoglu, 383–405. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society. Zilberg, Peter 2018. “The Assyrian Provinces of the Southern Levant: Sources, Administration, and Control.” In The Southern Levant under Assyrian Domination, edited by Shawn Zelig Aster and Avraham Faust, 56–88. University Park, PA: Eisenbrauns. Zorn, Jeffrey 2014. “War and Its Effects on Civilians in Ancient Israel and Its Neighbors.” In The Other Face of the Battle: The Impact of War on Civilians in the Ancient Near East, edited by Davide Nadali and Jordi Vidal, 79–100. Münster: UgaritVerlag.

INDICES Persons and gods Abdimilkuti (Abdi-Milkutti), 108, 197, 213 Adad, 146 Adad-Nerari I, 213 Adad-šumu-uṣur, 154, 157 Amun, 104, 111, 112, 199, 200, 201, 202, 203, 204, 205, 208, 209 Antiochos III, 145 Anukis, 212, 213 Arda-Mulissu, 109 Arik-dēn-ili, 213 Artaxerxes II, 148 Asarhaddon, 190 Ashurbanipal, 110, 111, 113, 191, 193, 194, 198, 199, 202, 203, 209 Assur, 109, 146, 168, 213 Atar-ili, 107 Ba’alu, 197 Bēl-ibni, 178 Bēl-šimânni, 142 Ctesias, 144 Cyrus, 145, 154, 173, 175 Darius I, 142, 175 David, 31, 34, 35, 36, 37, 29, 45 Dur-Sharrukku, 110 Enlil, 63, 64, 65, 67, 68, 70, 71, 72, 86, 132, 150, 169, 213

Enlil-nērārī, 213 Esarhaddon, 97, 103, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 113, 169, 170, 182, 191, 193, 194, 196, 197, 201, 210, 212, 214, 269, 273 Hezekiah, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 105, 106, 230, 243 Ḫumban-nikaš, 176, 177 Inanna, 71 Ištar or Arbela, 146 Jehoiakim, 36 Josiah, 35, 36 Kawa, 104, 105 Khonsu, 208, 209 Luli, 98 Marduk, 126, 127, 146, 154, 156, 157, 165, 166, 167, 169, 170, 171, 172, 174, 179, 180, 181, 183, 184 Merodach-baladan, 177, 178 Montemhet, 199, 208, 209, 112 Mušēzib-Marduk, 167, 180 Mut, 112, 208, 209 Nabonassar, 171, 172, 176, 177 Nabonidus, 103, 145, 154, 170, 171, 173, 175, 182, 183

287

288

CULTURE OF DEFEAT

Nahum, 166, 194 Nanna, 70, 73, 124, 125, 145, 146 Nebuchadnezzar I, 157, 171, 181, 183 Nebuchadnezzar II, 273 Nergal-ušēzib, 178, 179, 180 Ni-weser-re, 211 Ningal, 69, 123 Padi, 99 Ramses II, 201 Sanam, 105 Sanduari, 108 Sargon II, 170, 177, 213, 215, 263, 266, 267, 272, 273 Sennacherib, 3, 4, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 108, 109, 113, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 178, 183, 184, 190, 193, 196, 212, 214, 230, 231, 233, 236, 237, 241, 242, 243, 263, 267, 271

Shalmaneser V, 263 Suen, 72, 73, Šamaš-erība, 142, 143 Šamaš-šuma-ukīn, 109, 110, 172, 176, 179 Šamaš-šarra-usur, 267 Šamši-Adad I, 146 Sîn-šarru-iškun, 170 Šutruk-naḫḫunte, 152, 182 Taharqa/Tirhakah, 3, 97, 103, 104, 105, 106, 111, 112, 113, 193, 194, 196, 197, 198, 199, 200, 201, 202, 208, 209, 212, 215 Tanutamun, 193, 194, 199, 203, 204, 205, 206, 207, 209, 215 Tiglath-Pileser III, 176, 243, 263, 266, 267, 273 Urdu-Aššur, 214 Ushanhuru, 111, 196, 197, 198, 199 Xerxes, 139, 142, 143, 156, 157

Toponyms Abusir, 211 Adab, 71, 146 Ajjul, Tell el-, 240, 244 Ashdod, 99, 242, 264, 265, 274 Ashkelon, 98, 99, 242 Assur, 121, 146, 178, 179, 212, 213, 214, 215 Assyria, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 108, 109, 110, 111, 121, 146, 166, 170, 176, 177, 180, 181, 189, 211, 212, 214, 215, 244, 261, 263, 268, 269, 271, 272, 276 Ayelet ha-Shachar, 264

Babylon, 3, 4, 14, 64, 86, 103, 127, 132, 133, 134, 139, 140, 141, 142, 144, 145, 147, 150, 153, 154, 155, 156, 157, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 174, 175, 178,179, 180, 181, 183, 184, 213 Batrawy, Khirbet al-, 235 Brook of Egypt, 193, 273 Ben-Shemen, 264, 268 Be’er Sheva Valley, 99, 274 Borsippa, 142, 147, 172, 176 Cilicia, 108 Dēr, 177

INDICES Dor, Tel, 264, 268 Du-ur, 70, 72 Ekron, 98, 99, 101, 242, 269 Elam, 123, 124, 157, 169, 176, 177, 178, 180, 181, 182, 183 Eltekeh, 98, 101, 214, Eridu, 68, 122, 124, 130, Esagila, 143, 144, 148, 150, 153, 155, 157, 170 Ešnunna, 146 Ezida, 142 Galilee, 269 Gaza, 99, 101, 242 Gebel Barkal, 105, 203, 204 Gezer, 264, 268, 273 Gozan/Guzana, 272 Gilead, 269 Habor, 272 Hadid, Tel, 99, 264, 268, 273 Halaf, Tell, 272 Halah/Halahha, 272 Ḥalif, Tell, 237, 241, 242, 243, 244 Hoga, Khirbet, 264 Harhar, 272 Haror, Tel, 264 Huzirina, 121 ʿIra, Tel, 242 Isin, 133, 134 Išme-Dagan, 124, 130 Jemmeh, Tell, 264, 268, 273 Jerusalem, 2, 3, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 16, 17, 19, 20, 27, 28, 31, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 81, 83, 84, 97, 98, 100, 101, 102, 103, 165, 230, 263, 270, 271 Jezreel Valley, 269 Jordan Valley, 271

289 Judean Desert, 271 Judah, 8, 12, 14, 20, 21, 27, 31, 32, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 81, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 106, 109, 112, 230, 233, 244, 261, 263, 264, 265, 266, 267, 268, 270, 271, 273 Kār Esarhaddon, 108 Karnak, 104, 105, 111, 113, 197, 199, 200, 201, 202, 208 Kazallu, 71 Kharu, 104 Kiš/Kish, 69, 71, 142, 178 Kundu, 108, 181 Kush, 97, 98, 103, 104, 194, 212 Kusiya, Khirbet, 264, 268, 273 Lachish, Tel, 98, 99, 190, 196, 199, 210, 211, 231, 233, 236, 240, 241, 242, 244, 245, 265, 266, 274 Laḫiru, 107 Larsa, 73, 122 Mari, 122 Medes, 272 Megiddo, Tel, 235, 241, 244, 264, 268, Memphis, 4, 111, 190, 194, 197, 198, 199, 201, 204, 205, 206, 207, 210, 212, 214, 215, 263 Nabû-bēl-uṣur, 110 Nabû-nāṣir, 109 Nahal Beer Sheva, 274 Nahal Besor, 193 Nahal Grar, 274 Nahal Shiqma, 264 Napata, 203, 205, 207 Negev, 83, 193, 242, 274 Nimrud, Tell, 212, 266, 267, 272, 276

290

CULTURE OF DEFEAT

Nineveh, 64, 66, 98, 99, 106, 108, 121, 170, 171, 177, 190, 194, 196, 198, 212, 215, 267 Nippur, 64, 68, 69, 71, 73, 74, 122, 124, 130, 132, 133, 146, 179, 180 Qasile, Tell, 238, 243 Qaqun, 264, 268 Qudadi, Tell, 264 Philistia, 98, 269 Phoenicia, 98, 104, 213 Raphiah, 101 Reḥov, Tel, 238, 245, 246 Rishon Le-Ziyyon, 264 Rosh Zayit, Ḥorbat, 246 er-Ruqeish, Tell, 264 Samaria, 263, 266, 267, 268, 269, 271 Shechem, 239, 243, 245, 246 Shephelah, 99, 102, 242 Sippar, 122, 132, 133, 142, 146 Susa, 122, 142, 156 Terqa, 122 Thebes, 4, 111, 112, 190, 192, 194, 195, 199, 202, 204, 206, 207,

208, 209, 210, 211, 212, 215, 216, 217, 263 Ur, 8, 10, 16, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 86, 90, 122, 123, 124, 127, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 133, 134, 145, 146, 172 Urartu, 109 Uruk, 68, 71, 122, 124, 125, 130, 144, 147, 150, 178, 179, 180 ʿUza, Horvat, 242 Shephelah, 99, 102, 142 Shiloh, 31, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37 Shubria, 109, 110 Sidon, 98, 108, 197, 213 Sinai, 193 Sissû, 108 Šamaš-šuma-ukīn, 109, 110, 176, 179 Sudan, 104, 105 Sumer, 67, 68, 90, 122, 123, 124, 130, 131, 169, 213 Timnah, 101 Transjordan, 98 Tyre, 181, 197 Wadi az-Zarqa, 235 Zincirli/Sam’al, 195, 196, 197, 198

Sources Egyptian sources Annals of Thutmosis III, 111 Biographical inscription of Montemhet, 199, 208, 209

Dream Stela of Tanutamun, 199, 203, 204, 205, 206, 207, 208, 215 Tempest Stela of Ahmose, 207

Cuneiform sources Annals Inscription of TiglathPileser III, 266

Annals of Sennacherib Bull colossi, 267

INDICES Cylinder C, 267 Cylinder D, 267 Prism BM 127845+, 267 Jerusalem Prism, 267 King Prism, 267 Rassam Cylinder, 98, 99, 267 Chicago/Taylor Prism, 267 BM 121025, 267 Apology of Esarhaddon, 107, 108, 109, 110 Archive N31 (“Ägypter-Archiv”), 214 Ashurbanipal Prism A, 110 Babylonian Chronicle (ABC), 4, 103, 105, 107, 165, 166, 167, 171, 175, 183, 193 Bavian Inscription, 167, 168 British Museum BM 32485, 148, 149, 150, 152, 154 BM 32655, 152, 154, 158 BM 41577, 148, 149, 152, 154 BM 88288, 64 BM 99265, 86 BM 134496, 267 BM 134600, 267 Chronicle of Nabû-nāṣir to Šamašnāṣir (ABC 1), 109 City laments Curse of Akkad, 122 Eridu Lament, 68, 122, 124, 130 Lamentations of the cities of Sumer and Ur, 67, 68, 70, 73, 74, 90, 122, 123, 124, 130, 131 Nippur Lament, 68, 122, 124, 130

291 Ur Lament, 68, 69, 70, 72, 122, 123, 124, 130, 131, 149 Uruk Lament, 68, 122, 124, 130 Codex Hamurabi, 156 Cyrus cylinder, 175 Daily Telegraph Collection (British Museum) DT 15, 148, 149, 152, 154 DT 109, 148 DT 114, 148, 152 Egyptian Archive (‘Archive N31’), 214 Esarhaddon Chronicle (ABC 14), 107, 109 IVR² 53+, 63, 67, 86 Kuyunjik (British Museum) K 4613, 66 K 1295, 267 K 02627, 267 K 02666, 267 K 02676, 267 K 04507, 267 Nebi Yunus Inscription, 267 Nimrud Prism D & E, 266, 272 Prism Nineveh A, 107 Inscription Nineveh B, 107, 108 Summary Inscription of TiglathPileser III 4, 266 Summary Inscription of TiglathPileser III 7, 266 Summary Inscription of TiglathPileser III 9, 266 Summary Inscription of TiglathPileser III 10, 266 Summary Inscription of TiglathPileser III 13, 266

292

CULTURE OF DEFEAT

Summary Inscription of Sargon II, 266, 272 Musees Nationaux B Collection (Musee du Louvre) MNB 1848, 148, 149, 150, 152 Nebi Yunus inscription, 267 Nimrud (British Museum) ND 2443+, 267 ND 2765, 267 ND 2608, 267 Nimrud ‘Horse List’ , 267, 272 Nimrud ‘Wine Lists’, 267 Textes cuneiforms (Musées du Louvre) TCL 6, 64 Ur Excavation Texts UET 6/2, 74, 75, 86 Ur (British Museum) U 6321, 86

Vorderasiatische Abteilung Tontafeln (Vorderasiatisches Museum) VAT 247, 86 VAT 269, 86 VAT 272, 86 VAT 285, 86 VAT 417, 86 VAT 438, 86 VAT 1705, 86 VAT 1774, 86 VAT 1815, 86 VAT 3421, 64 VAT 3432, 64 VS (Vorderasiatische Schriftdenkmäler der (Königlichen) Museen zu Berlin) VS 1 36, 150

Classical sources Herodotus Histories II:141, 106 Homer Iliad IX 381-384, 195

Josephus Flavius Antiquities of the Jews X. 19-21, 106

Biblical sources Genesis 16:11 43:33

12 77

Exodus 3:7 3:17

12 12

Leviticus 26:11 26:22 26:40

77 77 29

Deuteronomy 6:20-24 32:11

36 52

INDICES 1 Samuel 4

33

2 Kings 15-21 17:3-6 17:20 17:24 18:11 18-19 18-20 18:13–19:37 18:14-16 18:19-25 18:19-35 19:1-5 19:4 19:6-7 19:9 19:19 19:26-27 19:28-29 19:37 22 22:2 22:3 22-23 24-25

265 272 35 273 272 100 266 99, 101, 230 99, 101, 102 102 270, 271 102 100 103 104 100 100 100 103 35 36 36 36 13, 14

293 29:9 36:4-10 36:4-20 36–37 36–39 37:1-5 37:4 37:6-7 37:9 37:20 37:27-28 37:32-33 37:38 Jeremiah 1:6 1:18 1-6 2:26 4:5-8 4:5-9 4:5-18 4:6-8 4:7 4:8 4:9

4:9-10 Isaiah 1:8 5–12 9:19-20 10:2 10:3-4 10:15 13:18 22:9-10

100 265 269 275 270 100 77 271

4:10 4:11 4:11-12 4:11-13 5:13 4:19-21 4:29-31 4–6

77 102 270, 271 99, 100, 101 265 102 100 103 104 100 100 100 103

80 77 77 78, 80, 85 77 79 76 77 76, 78 77, 78 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 83, 85, 87, 88 76, 77, 80, 84, 85, 88 79, 85 76 86 79 76, 81, 86 76 76 77

294

CULTURE OF DEFEAT 5:1 5:3 5:30-31 5:31 6:1-5 6:10 6:11 6:11-15 6:12 6:13 6:14 6:22-23 7:12-15 8:1 8:4-5 8:6-7 8:10 8:14 8:15 8:16-17 8:18-19 8:18-23 8:20-23 8–10 9:1-2 9:3 9:7 9:9 9:16-18 9:20 10:19-20 10:22 10:25 11:10 13:18-19 13:19 13:20-22

76 76 85, 88 85 76 76 76 85, 88 76 76, 85, 86 85 76 36 77, 85 76 76 85, 86 76, 78, 85 76, 85, 87, 88 76 76 76, 85, 88 76 77 76 76 76 76 76 76 76 76 78 29 76 80, 81, 83, 84, 85 81, 83, 84

13:24 13:25 13:27 14 14:11-16 14:11-17 14:13 14:13-16 14:13-18 14:14 14:15 14:17 14:17-18 14:18 14:19 15:1-2 15:2 15:16-17 18 18:15 18:17 18:18 20:14 20:15 20:18 22:10 22:13-15 22:22 23:9 23:9-12 23:10 23:14-15 23:16-22 26:1 26:6 26:9

81 81, 82, 83, 84 81 82, 83 82, 85, 88 82 80, 82 80, 81, 83, 86 76, 88 86 83 81, 85, 88 76, 80, 82, 83, 84, 85, 87 76, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 88 83, 84, 85 81, 82 81, 83, 84 88 80 87 86 85, 88 76 76 76 76 76 86 76 85, 88 76 85, 88 85, 88 36 36 36

INDICES 30:5-6 30–31 31:15 32:17 32:32 39 39–40 46–49 49:36 51

76 77 77 80 80, 85 13, 14 14 77 86 13

Ezekiel 4:17 6:4 30:7

77 77 77

Hosea 4–14

266

Amos 7:9

77

Micah 1:2-7 1:8-16 1:13 1–3

266 266 266 266

Nahum 3:8-9

194

Habakkuk 1:5

77

Zechariah 7:3 7:5

9 9

295 Psalms 1 1:5 2 2:5 2:12 3 3:6 3:8 4 4:4 4:7 5 5:2 5:4-6 5:6 5:10 5:11 5:11-13 5:12 6 6:2-6 6:3 6:7-8 6:11 7 7:3 7:11 7:15 7:16 7:16-17 7:17 8 8:3 9 9:4 9:5 9:14

45, 46, 53 52 45, 46, 266 52 53 46 50 51, 56 46 53 50 46 50 46 52 50 52 46 46 46 46 50, 56 50 52 51 50 46 51 51, 52 47 51 47 47 47 52 47 12

296

CULTURE OF DEFEAT 9:2 10 10:1 10:4 10:7 10:9 10:12 10:14 10:15 11 11:3 11:4 11:6 12:4 12:5 12:8-9 13:2 13:4 13:4-5 13:6 14:1 14:2 15 15:5 16 16:1 16:4 16:5 16:9 16:11 17 17:1 17:2 17:2-5 17:3 17:10-12 17:14 17:15

52 47 47 52 50, 51 51 50, 52 52 51 47 47 56 47 51 51 47 50 50 47 50 47 52 47 47 47 47 47 50 50 50 47 50 50 47 50 51 50 52, 56

18 18:7 18:9-10 18:25-26 18:37-45 18:39 18:39-41 19 19:1-7 19:8-11 20 20:9 21 21:7 21:9 21:13 21:10 21:13 22 22:5 22:14 22:15 22:15-18 22:21 22:22 22:28-30 23 24-30 24:6 25:15 25:17 26:2 26:10 27:2 27:8-9 27:14 28:2 28:3-4

48, 53 50 56 48 48 52 52 48 48 48 48 52 48, 266 52 52 48 52 48 48 51 51 55 50 51 51 48 48 48 50 50 50 50 51 50, 52 50 53 50 51

INDICES 31 31:9 31:10 31:10-13 31:11 31:15 31:17 31:18 31:19 31:21 31:24-25 32:3 32:3-4 32:10 33:10 33:13 33:18 34:11 34:16 34:17 34:19 35 35:4 35:8 35:10 35:17 35:19 36 36:2-3 36:8 36:11 36:12 36:13 37 37:2 37:9-10 37:12 37:15

48 56 50 50 50 50, 52 50 52 51 52 53 50 50 48 49 52 52 49 50, 52 49, 52 50 49 52 52 50 51 51 49 51 52 50 51 52 49 49 49 51 49

297 37:17 37:20 37:34 37:36 37:38 38-41 38 38:4 38:4-14 38:9 38:11 39:4 39:13 40:2 40:13 40:15 41:7 41:11 48:6 60:14 78 78:1-8 78:3-4 78:6 78:8 78:9 78:9-16 78:17-18 78:32 78:32-39 78:38 78:40-41 78:40-55 78:52 78:52-53 78:54-55 78:56

49 49 53 49 49 49 53 50 50 50 50 50 50 52 50 52 51 49 77 56 3, 27, 31, 32, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39 27, 31, 32 38 38 35 32, 34 31 31 32 31 38 32 31, 38 39 34 38 32

298

CULTURE OF DEFEAT 78:56-67 78:66 78:67 78:68 78:68-72 78:71-72 79:1 79:1-3 79:2 79:4 79:5 79:5-7 79:6 79:7 79:8 79:8-9 79:9 79:10 79:11 79:12 79:13 91:4 137

31 38 32 32 31 39 38 28, 30 29 28, 29, 30, 38 29 28 29 29 29, 30, 38 28 28, 30, 38 28, 29, 30 28, 29, 30 28, 30, 38 28, 30, 38, 39 52 27

Job

10:15 26:11 Lamentations 1:1 1:1-3 1:1-11 1:2 1:3 1:4 1:5

1:5-7

12 77

9 19 10 11, 15, 18, 21 12, 13, 14 14, 18 14, 15, 16, 17, 19, 21 19

1:6 1:7 1:7-10 1:8 1:9 1:9-10 1:10 1:11 1:11-16 1:12 1:12-13 1:12-22 1:14 1:15 1:16 1:16-20 1:17 1:18 1:18-22 1:19 1:20 1:20-22 1:21 1:22 5:7 5:16

14, 19, 20 13, 14, 15, 20, 21 15 17, 18, 19, 21 15, 20, 21 19 18 14, 20, 21 10 10, 18, 20, 21 16 10 15, 17, 18, 19, 21 19 15, 19 14 15, 19 10, 14, 17, 18, 19, 20 10 14, 18, 19 14, 15, 17, 18, 20, 21 10 15, 17, 18, 19 17, 18, 21 29 29

Nehemiah 9:2

29

1 Chronicles 5:26

272

2 Chronicles 28-33 32:1-23

265 230

INDICES 32:21 36:17-21

299

103 13

36:21

13

Berachot 15b 30 Masechet Soferim 27

Sukkah 2a

30

Rabbinic sources

Apocryphal sources Ecclesiasticus 5:7 77