The Reception of Biblical War Legislation in Narrative Contexts 3110348446, 9783110348446

Table of contents :
Acknowledgments
Introduction
Table of Contents
“When you go forth to war against your enemies…” Narrative Reading of Deuteronomic Warfare Legislation
Abraham amidst Kings, Coalitions and Military Campaigns. Reflections on the Redaction History of Gen 14 and its Early Rewritings
Defeating Amalek, Defending the Constitution: The Political Theory of Ex 17:8–16
Midrash-Exegesis in the Service of Literary Criticism
Bündnisverbot und Mischehenverbot. Zum Banngebot in Deuteronomium 7,1 –2 und seiner Wirkungsgeschichte
Law and Narrative in Deuteronomy and the Temple Scroll
Paradigm, Illustrative Narrative or Midrash: the Case of Josh 7?8 and Deuteronomic/istic Law
Deuteronomic War Prescriptions and Deuteronomistic Wars
Beobachtungen zu Rezeption und Interpretation von Kriegsgesetzen des Pentateuchs in den Büchern der Chronik
The Battle of Emmaus and 1 Maccabees’ Creative Use of Martial Law
Biblical Warfare Legislation in the War Scroll (1QM VII:1?7 and X:1?8)
Index of sources
Subject index

Citation preview

The Reception of Biblical War Legislation in Narrative Contexts

Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft

Edited by John Barton, Ronald Hendel, Reinhard G. Kratz and Markus Witte

Volume 460

The Reception of Biblical War Legislation in Narrative Contexts Proceedings of the EABS research group “Law and Narrative” Edited by Christoph Berner and Harald Samuel

ISBN 978-3-11-034844-6 e-ISBN (PDF) 978-3-11-034972-6 e-ISBN (EPUB) 978-3-11-038413-0 ISSN 0934-2575 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A CIP catalog record for this book has been applied for at the Library of Congress. Bibliographic information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data are available in the Internet at http://dnb.dnb.de. © 2015 Walter de Gruyter GmbH, Berlin/Boston Druck und Bindung: CPI books GmbH, Leck ♾ Gedruckt auf säurefreiem Papier Printed in Germany www.degruyter.com

Acknowledgments When preparing and eventually completing this collection of articles, it occurred to us the process had at least some analogies to conducting a successful military campaign. You achieve victories, suffer some defeats, and experience occasional delays, but in the end, you would not have prevailed without your allies and supporting troops. Therefore, we want to take the opportunity to express our gratitude to the academic allies and technical supporters who joined us in this literary endeavor. First, our cordial thanks go to all authors who contributed the results of their research and made this project possible. We would also like to thank the members of our EABS research group “Law and Narrative” who participated in our discussion at the 2013 meeting, in Leipzig, and provided important stimuli for this volume. Moreover, we are obliged to the editors, Prof. John Barton, Prof. Ronald Hendel, Prof. Reinhard G. Kratz, and Prof. Markus Witte, for accepting this volume into the BZAW series. Sophie Wagenhofer and Johannes Parche from the publisher, de Gruyter, have accompanied us throughout the editorial process, and we are greatly appreciative of their excellent support (and patience). Furthermore, we wish to express our kind thanks to Laura Schimmelpfennig and Christian Steinmeier, our student collaborators in Göttingen, for their invaluable assistance in preparation of the articles. Without them, our battle against non-unicode fonts, tabulators, and incorrect stylesheets might have proven a lost cause. Finally, we would like to thank Paul Michael Kurtz and Stephen Germany for their generous and skillful help with English proofreading. Christoph Berner Harald Samuel Göttingen, 15 May 2015 (International Conscientious Objector’s Day)

Introduction In the writings of the Hebrew Bible, war is a dominant topic. Especially in the Pentateuch (Gen–Deut) and the Former Prophets (Josh–2 Kgs), there are various stories about all kinds of hostilities between the people of Israel (or a certain sub-group) and its enemies. Moreover, besides these frequent war narratives, there is also a number of legal passages (most notably the so-called rules of warfare in Deut 20) that contain specific stipulations pertaining to the conduct of war. Clearly, the issue of warfare had a deep impact on both biblical law and narrative. In recent years, both aspects have received increased attention from the scholarly community. While some studies have focused on biblical war narratives and their ideological agendas, others have investigated biblical legislation for warfare, often against its ancient Near Eastern background.¹ However, on account of mostly separate treatment of these two aspects,² only insufficient attention has been paid thus far to the relationship between war narratives and warfare legislation in the Hebrew Bible. Yet even a brief glance at the opening section of the rules of warfare in Deut 20:1 indicates how closely intertwined both areas actually are:

 See e. g., van der Deijl, Arnould. Protest or Propaganda: War in the Old Testament Book of Kings and in Contemporaneous Ancient Near Eastern Texts. SSN . Leiden / Boston: Brill, ; Elßner, Thomas R. Josua und seine Kriege in jüdischer und christlicher Rezeptionsgeschichte. Theologie und Frieden . Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, ; Kelle, Brad E. Writing and Reading War: Rhetoric, Gender, and Ethics in Biblical and Modern Contexts. SBL Symposium Series . Leiden: Brill, ; Crouch, Carly L. War and Ethics in the Ancient Near East: Military Violence in Light of Cosmology and History. BZAW . Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, ; Liesen, Jan / Beentjes, Pancratius C. (eds.). Visions of Peace and Tales of War. DCLY . Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, ; Vidal, Jordi. Studies on War in the Ancient Near East: Collected Essays on Military History. AOAT . Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, ; Schmitt, Rüdiger. Der “Heilige Krieg” im Pentateuch und im deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerk: Studien zur Forschungs-, Rezeptionsund Religionsgeschichte von Krieg und Bann im Alten Testament. AOAT . Münster: UgaritVerlag, ; Fischer, Irmtraud (ed.). Macht – Gewalt – Krieg im Alten Testament. Freiburg i. Br.: Herder, ; Kelle, Brad E. et al. (eds.). Warfare, Ritual, and Symbol in Biblical and Modern Contexts. SBL Ancient Israel and its Literature . Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, ; Nadali, Davide / Vidal, Jordi (eds.). The Other Face of the Battle: The Impact of War on Civilians in the Ancient Near East. AOAT . Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, .  See, however, the study of Assnat Bartor, who has outlined a distinct approach towards a narrative reading of biblical law (Reading Law as Narrative: A Study in the Casuistic Laws of the Pentateuch. SBL Ancient Israel and its Literature . Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, ).

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When you go out to war against your enemies, and see horses and chariots, an army larger than your own, you shall not be afraid of them; for YHWH your God is with you, who brought you up from the land of Egypt.³

The text invokes the memory of Israel’s deliverance from Egypt as a paradigm for determining the people’s future conduct in a similar hostile situation. Consequently, the author not only refers back to a passage from the Exodus narrative (apparently the account of the events at the Sea of Reeds, in Exod 14) but also claims the following rules should apply to all of Israel’s future wars, which are recounted in the conquest narrative of the Book of Joshua and beyond. Thus, the rules of warfare in Deut 20 have been purposefully embedded within the narrative context of the Hexa-/Enneateuch, and this connection naturally raises the question as to the impact they have had on the portrayal of Israel’s wars. The example of Deut 20:1 illustrates the close ties between biblical law and narrative, yet it reveals only one aspect of a phenomenon that is much broader and more complex. When dealing with the general relationship between law and narrative in the Hebrew Bible, one can, in fact, distinguish several specific ways in which the two areas have influenced each other. To begin with, there are legal passages referring back to events of the biblical narrative to establish an etiological reference point for a certain stipulation (e. g., Exod 22:20). While these etiologies often seem to represent secondary elements within the legal context, some laws never existed independently but rather were devised as a reaction to issues within the biblical narrative itself (e. g., Deut 17:14– 20). Although in both instances, the legal material is clearly dependent on a narrative background, the precise implications of this observation are perhaps less clear than they may appear at first glance. What remains to be determined in each individual case is whether reference is made to a specific text preserved within the biblical corpus or to an alternative expression of the narrative tradition that might now be unavailable to us. It goes without saying that the occurrence of narrative influences on the legal material reflects but one side of the coin. In addition, one can also point out several examples where the direction of dependence is reversed, with narrative texts drawing on legal traditions. A first telling example of this category would be stories that illustrate the application of previously given laws (e. g., Josh 6,17– 21) or serve as a case narrative to introduce new or additional stipulations (e. g., Num 15,32– 36). At the same time, reference should also be made to the various texts related to the neglect of or disobedience against certain laws  Translation adapted from the NRSV.

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and their consequences. While some of these texts reflect the author’s polemics and thus indicate a certain theological agenda (e. g., 1 Kgs 12:28 – 33), others obviously try to remedy tensions arising from the fact that a certain narrative was not in line with a legal stipulation expressed elsewhere (e. g., Josh 9). Importantly, however, these traditions were not necessarily identical with the legal material preserved in the biblical writings since the very beginning, a crucial issue to keep in mind when dealing with all these different kinds of narrative that were influenced by legal traditions. In this respect, one must guard against rash equations. Rather, it is necessary to broaden the perspective and include the extant extra-biblical legal material as well in order to recognize the ways in which it may have interacted with biblical law and narrative. It is the purpose of the EABS research group “Law and Narrative,” which we founded in 2013, to provide a new and better understanding of the complex and multifaceted interplay between law and narrative, as illustrated by the above examples. Our main approach is determined by the basic observation that the phenomenon is only accessible through the literary evidence of the Hebrew Bible. At the same time, the diversity of the literary evidence clearly suggests that the amalgamation of law and narrative was a highly dynamic process. Since we are apparently dealing with complex literary developments, we are convinced a redaction-historical approach is not only appropriate but also necessary. On the one hand, this approach provides the most precise access to the individual texts that attest to the different kinds of interplay between law and narrative. On the other hand, the application of this approach to more than one text will likely reveal common lines of development and thus provide a clearer picture of the major redaction-historical processes that have determined the literary growth of the biblical text. Despite a clear interest in the redaction historical developments within the Hebrew Bible, the EABS research group “Law and Narrative” does not limit its focus to this particular literary corpus. Rather, we have decided to include Jewish literature from the Second Temple period as well, for we believe the early reception history can, in many respects, represent a continuation of the redaction-historical developments that have shaped the “biblical” text. By establishing a combined perspective that includes both areas, we hope to overcome the strict separation of “biblical” and “post-biblical” literature, a distinction that is historically unfounded.⁴ Instead, we focus on the interplay of law and narrative and therefore hope to contribute to a more holistic perspective on the literary history

 See, e. g., the contributions in the recently edited issue The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Hebrew Bible, DSD / ().

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of the post-exilic period or, to put it differently, on the history of early Jewish thought. This volume thus seeks to shed new light on one specific aspect of the overall phenomenon of “Law and Narrative,” namely, the relationship between biblical warfare legislation and war narratives. The volume’s title, “The Reception of Biblical War Legislation in Narrative Contexts,” reflects the topic of our EABS research group, which we chose for the 2013 conference, in Leipzig. The majority of articles appearing in this volume stemmed from invited papers presented at the conference, while some additional authors have kindly agreed to contribute afterwards. In sum, the contributions provide case studies on the reception of biblical warfare legislation throughout the most relevant narrative parts of the Hebrew Bible (i. e., the Pentateuch, the Former Prophets, and Chronicles). Additionally, in keeping with the research group’s agenda, we have also included two case studies on early Jewish texts (1 Maccabees and Qumran). As a result, the contributions collected in this volume not only address the main topic in separate areas of literature, but, in doing so, also add up to a more comprehensive picture that suggests major redaction and reception-historical developments. Christoph Berner Harald Samuel

Table of Contents Acknowledgments Introduction

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VII

Assnat Bartor (Tel Aviv University) “When you go forth to war against your enemies…” Narrative Reading of Deuteronomic Warfare Legislation

1

Christoph Berner (Georg-August-Universität Göttingen) Abraham amidst Kings, Coalitions and Military Campaigns Reflections on the Redaction History of Gen 14 and its Early 23 Rewritings Wolfgang Oswald (Eberhard-Karls-Universität Tübingen) Defeating Amalek, Defending the Constitution: The Political Theory of Ex 17:8 – 16 61 Shimon Gesundheit (Hebrew University of Jerusalem) Midrash-Exegesis in the Service of Literary Criticism

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Reinhard Achenbach (Westfälische Wilhelms-Universität Münster) Bündnisverbot und Mischehenverbot Zum Banngebot in Deuteronomium 7,1 – 2 und seiner Wirkungsgeschichte 87 Reinhard G. Kratz (Georg-August-Universität Göttingen) Law and Narrative in Deuteronomy and the Temple Scroll

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Cynthia Edenburg (The Open University of Israel) Paradigm, Illustrative Narrative or Midrash: the Case of Josh 7‒8 and Deuteronomic/istic Law 123 Harald Samuel (Georg-August-Universität Göttingen) Deuteronomic War Prescriptions and Deuteronomistic Wars

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Sebastian Grätz (Johannes Gutenberg-Universität Mainz) Beobachtungen zu Rezeption und Interpretation von Kriegsgesetzen des 155 Pentateuchs in den Büchern der Chronik Francis Borchardt (Lutheran Theological Seminary Hong Kong) The Battle of Emmaus and 1 Maccabees’ Creative Use of Martial Law Annette Steudel (Georg-August-Universität Göttingen) Biblical Warfare Legislation in the War Scroll (1QM VII:1‒7 and X:1‒8) Index of sources Subject index

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Assnat Bartor (Tel Aviv University)

“When you go forth to war against your enemies…” Narrative Reading of Deuteronomic Warfare Legislation

I. Introduction Six laws in the Deuteronomic legislation are considered “laws of war”: the law concerning going out to war (Deut 20:1– 9); the ḥērem (vv. 10 – 18); laying siege to a city (vv. 19 – 20); a beautiful captive woman (21:10 – 14); guarding the sanctity of the army camp (23:10 – 14); exemption from recruitment to the army (24:5). The fact that laws that share a common topic—all of them deal with military issues¹—appear in four disparate loci and not in one continuum may serve as a useful starting point for presenting and developing a literary-narrative reading of these laws. This “scattering” illustrates one of the poetic phenomena characteristic of biblical law codes. Unlike modern legislation, the law collections in the Pentateuch are not organized systematically but rather bounce from one topic to another. This is not due to lack of skill or sloppiness on the part of the biblical scribes, but rather reflects the deliberate choice of a different mode of organization—not by topic or type, but by association. Although Deuteronomy 20 is entirely dedicated to military legislation, the continuity of the law of siege with the next law of war (the law of a captive woman), is “interrupted” by the law of the broken-necked heifer (21:1– 9). This is not on account of carelessness, or due to an “editorial mis-

 The laws of war not only share a common topic but also use identical or similar formulations. The law of going out to war and the law of a captive woman begin with the same phrase: “When you go forth (lit. go out) to war against your enemies.” The opening of the law concerning sanctity of the military camp is a variant of this phrase: “When you go forth (lit. go out) against your enemies.” The same Hebrew verb yēṣēʾ (to go out) appears in the law of exemption from recruitment: “he shall not go out with the army.” The openings of the law of ḥērem and the law of siege are also similar: “When you draw near to a city to fight against it”; “When you besiege a city for a long time making war against it” (the Hebrew text is even closer as both laws use the same idiom lěhillāḥēm ̉āleyhā). It is, therefore, agreed that these laws originally belonged to one corpus, “the military law compendium,” as Alexander Rofé, “The Laws of Warfare,” , names it.

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hap,” as Alexander Rofé, characterizes it,² but rather as a poetic choice, which gives preference to creativity and imagination at the expense of legal sense and content systematization. It is not implausible that the suggested scene of corpses lying in the field of battle led the authors to the specific image of the one who “is found slain lying in the open country and it is not known who killed him” (21:1). Or maybe it was a repeated word, a shared concept that led to the decision to link these laws. “City” and “cities”—central notions both in the law of the expiatory heifer (see vv. 2– 3) and in the laws of war (see 20:10 – 18, 19 – 20)—may be the cause for the association between laws that have no common legal thread. The “associative rule” also determined the textual locations of the law concerning the sanctity of the camp and the law of exemption from recruitment. The first of these is located after a collection of laws dealing with people who are not admitted into the Israelite community, who shall not enter (lōʼ yābōʼ = shall not come/enter into) the assembly of the Lord (23:1– 3), and this repeated idiom is then also used to prohibit the unclean person from coming within the military camp (v. 10). The second of these follows the law of divorce (24:1– 4). Both laws deal with conjugal relationships (for better and for worse) and share identical openings: kî yiqqaḥ ʼîš ʼiššâ (when a man takes a wife)—an adequate reason for joining them together.³ The “scattering” of the laws of warfare is a delightful example of the associative organizing principle in action. And, as previously stated, it shows that literary imagination and creativity are integral features of the law collections of the Pentateuch.

II. Law as Literature, Law as Narrative The narratological reading, a relatively new topic of scholarly interest in the study of biblical law, is the outcome of contemporary research that focuses on the various interrelations between law and literature in general and between biblical law and narrative in particular.⁴

 Rofé, “The Laws of Warfare,” .  According to Alexander Rofé, all the laws of warfare were arranged by theme and content and only at a secondary stage in the development of the book of Deuteronomy were a few of them relocated along associative lines (Rofé, “The Laws of Warfare,”  – ).  See Halberstam, “The Art of Biblical Law”; Bartor, Reading Law as Narrative. The narrative reading of biblical law is only one element within the wide framework of the complex relationship between law and narrative in the Bible (see Adam et al., Law and Narrative). This issue is

“When you go forth to war against your enemies…”

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Reading biblical law as narrative, as a story, is an interdisciplinary move. It integrates three fields of research: biblical law, jurisprudence and literary theory, and establishes a new and alternative method of interpretation, reflecting current trends in legal studies, namely the “Law and Literature” school.⁵ The recognition that law and literature share common elements (both construct reality through language, both employ rules of wording and require interpretation), and that even in legal discourse narrative plays a central role, leads to a systematic borrowing of hermeneutic principles and of research tools, developed within literary theory and narratology, which are then applied to legal texts. Law is an arena in which human stories are presented. It describes concrete situations and events and makes use of real people in establishing binding norms and in shaping desirable policies. Narrative reading, as opposed to common legal reading, does not focus on norms, foundational principles, or the policies enacted by the law, but rather attends to its narrative dimension—characters and events, how they are described, which textual and rhetorical elements serve to elaborate their content, and the communicative processes through which the lawgiver transmits the law to its audience. In other words, narrative reading focuses on the poetics of these “legal stories.” It underscores the human and subjective aspects of the law and illustrates how law is an instrument for responding to the human condition and not only an instrument for subordination and control. According to its basic assumption, the combination of law and narrative and the concentration on narrative elements, which are found in the laws, may lead to a deeper understanding of the law as part of human culture and of human life as a whole.⁶

examined in its three other main aspects: the genre-mixing of law and narrative in the Pentateuch (see e. g., Greenstein, “Biblical Law”; Watts, Reading Law; Berlin, “Numinous Nomos”); the reflection of narrative or historical traditions in the law (see e. g., Carmichael, Law and Narrative; idem, The Spirit of Biblical Law; idem, Illuminating Leviticus); and the reflection of legal elements in biblical prose and other genres (see e. g., Daube, Studies in Biblical Law,  – ; Bartor “The ‘Juridical Dialogue’”; Barmash, “The Narrative Quandary”).  See e. g., White, The Legal Imagination; Cover, “Nomos and Narrative”; Dworkin, “Law as Interpretation”; Hutchinson, Dwelling on the Threshold; Fish, Doing What Comes Naturally; Farber / Sherry, “Telling Stories”; Jackson, Law, Fact and Narrative Coherence; LaRue, Constitutional Law as Fiction; Weisberg, “Proclaiming Trials”; Brooks, “Narrativity of the Law”.  Such an assumption is not innovative. In his well-known essay “hălākâ wěʾăggādâ” Haim Nahman Bialik refers to the unique literary work of the classical rabbis, and sees the combination of hălākâ (law) and ʾăggādâ (narrative) as a perfect paradigm for a synthesis of all the powers that function in human culture (Bialik, “hălākâ wěʾăggādâ”; English version: idem, “Halakhah and Aggadah”). It seems that Bialik’s essay served as an inspiration for Robert Cover’s epoch-making “Nomos and Narrative” (see Tucker, “The Sayings of the Wise”).

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Biblical law is by all means an ideal laboratory for exploring the narrative elements of the law, since one of the basic categories of legal form in biblical law codes, known as casuistic law, is narrative by nature.⁷ A casuistic law, which consists of a conditional clause stating an action or a state of affairs and a subsequent clause that prescribes the legal consequences of the case, represents a social problem and its resolution in narrative terms—it contains the germ of a story. Reading the casuistic laws as “miniature stories” with the tools of literary theory exposes their nature as normative-communicative texts that make a cognitive and emotional impact on their readers. Such a reading intensifies the meaning embodied in the texts and exposes elements of meaning embedded in them, allowing one to discern in the most revealing manner how the lawgivers intended to inculcate the norms established by the laws. It is most likely that the fundamental approach guiding the authors of the “narrative laws” is the very same approach which is common and agreed upon until today. Narrative is a mode of thought, a cognitive tool which allows us to attribute significance to actions and events, and therefore serves as a foremost means for the recognition of the world, humankind, and human reality.⁸ The authors made use of the medium of narrative, understanding that the story, which consists of concrete and detailed situations, is efficacious for the comprehension of moral rules and principles, and that narrativity facilitates the internalizing of ideas, notions and norms. It serves as a means of argumentation and persuasion.⁹ The law of laying siege to a city is a quintessential example of the use of narrativity in legal texts: 19

When you besiege a city for a long time, making war against it in order to take it, you shall not destroy its trees by wielding an axe against them; for you may eat of them, but you shall not cut them down. Are the trees in the field men that they should be besieged by you? 20 Only the trees which you know are not trees for food you may destroy and cut down that you may build siegeworks against the city that makes war with you, until it falls. (Deut 20:19 – 20)

 See Thompson, Introducing Biblical Literature,  – ; Nasuti, “Identity, Identification, and Imitation,” ; Jackson, Law, Fact and Narrative Coherence,  – ; idem, Studies in the Semiotics,  – ; idem, “Literal Meaning”; idem, Wisdom-Laws,  – .  See Bruner, Acts of Meaning, ,  – ; idem, “The Narrative Construction of Reality”; Edwards, Discourse and Cognition,  – ; Fisher, Human Communication as Narration,  – .  According to cognitive psychology consideration of concrete situations is helpful in testing and refining normative principles (see Farber / Sherry, “Telling Stories,”  – ; Binder / Weisberg, Literary Criticisms of Law,  – ).

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Were a modern legislator required to formulate “the law of siege” the outcome would be utterly different. Parenthetically, I will note that such a requirement is far from realistic, because, although in the past (and not only in antiquity), sieges were a normal element of warfare, today, and indeed for some time, their legality has been called into question. Many international law experts contend that the modern laws of warfare prohibit laying siege to a city. I will therefore formulate such a hypothetical law only for the purposes of comparison, as follows: “One who cuts down fruit trees in order to lay siege to a city shall be sentenced to…”. Although this formulation is very succinct, the legal norm expressed by the Biblical law, prohibiting the removal of food-bearing trees, is fully contained in it. However, the Biblical lawgiver had no interest in brevity. He wanted us to understand all of the elements of the situation, and so made sure we would be able to fully picture the siege, the variety of trees, fruit-bearing and non fruit-bearing, which surround the besieged city; to imagine the hard labor of constructing the siege ramp (incidentally, the phase “for a long time,” which is so crucial for understanding the complexity of the situation, cannot be translated into legal terms, i. e., into a precise and unambiguous phrase, for we do not know the duration involved, and we also do not know what was considered “a long time” in those days). We can also picture the warriors, plucking the fruit to sate their hunger, and even hear the blows of the axes against the trunks of the non fruit-bearing trees. Finally, we also witness the collapse of the city walls. To conjure up all of this, the language of the law must be enriched. There is no choice but to prolong it, for example, with linguistic variations: to destroy, to wield an axe against the trees, to cut them down—such variation is aesthetically and literally pleasing, but utterly superfluous from a legal standpoint. The lawgiver also chose to invite his addressees into the legislative process and expose some of the reasoning behind it—one justification, then another; this point of view and that. Notice the rhetoric that runs between the lines, the rhetorical question with which the lawgiver dialogues with the addressees of the law (a point I will elaborate below). The two-verse long siege law is therefore fertile soil for identifying narrative elements, as are the other Deuteronomic laws relating to warfare.

III. Representation of Speech The ability to create an illusion of reality by means of imitation (i. e., mimesis) is one of the signal characteristics of narrative. A vivid and dramatic description of the events in which the characters participate, affords readers the illusion that they are seeing things with their own eyes, and direct transmission of the char-

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acters’ conversation produces the (false) sense that they are hearing their voices. Reducing the narrator’s role, as it were, to showing or voicing, enables the written text to mimic the verbal and non-verbal events which make up reality.¹⁰ The casuistic laws of the Pentateuch are reality-mimicking texts. They describe, and in not a few cases even dramatize, scenes, and although the description is spare in detail, the reader can conjure up the events as they occur. We have just experienced this vis-à-vis the law of laying siege to a city. The laws of warfare provide a golden opportunity to become acquainted with the manner in which speech events are presented within biblical law. I begin by saying that it is similar to the manner they are presented in biblical narrative; the lawgiver, like the narrator, prefers to use direct discourse.¹¹ While the law of going out to war (Deut 20:1– 9) is a prominent example of this preference, the next law, the law of ḥērem, adopts a different approach to verbal acts. The lawgiver reports a speech event which occurs in the course of a scene but he does not render its verbal content: “When you draw near to a city to fight against it, offer terms of peace to it” (Deut 20:10).¹² We do not know the wording of the surrender call that went out to the inhabitants of the captured city. We are fully compensated by the intensive presence of direct discourse in the law of going out to war.

1. Oratio Directa Paradoxically, the law concerning going out to war, which opens the collection of laws of warfare, does not include instructions regarding the conscription and organization of forces before setting out to battle.¹³ It only describes a two-phased ritual, composed of two speech events presented in direct discourse: the priest’s

 The common distinction in narrative between “telling” and “showing” (or “summary” and “scene”) is based on Socrates’ distinction in the third book of Plato’s Republic, between two modes of conveying speech: diegesis and mimesis. The quality which characterizes diegesis is that “the poet himself is the speaker,” while in mimesis, he attempts to create the illusion that it is not he who is speaking. See Genette, Narrative Discourse,  – ; Chatman, Coming to Terms,  – .  See for example Exod :; Lev :; Num : – ; Deut :b, b; :b; :b, b; :b – ; : – a, ; :b,  – a; :b, b, b.  Similarly we do not know what the city elders said to the brother-in-law of a widow to persuade him to retract his refusal to fulfill the duty of levirate marriage: “Then the elders of his city shall call him, and speak to him” (Deut :).  The law mentions only one actual action in preparing for battle: “then commanders shall be appointed at the head of the people” (v. b).

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address, designed to instill confidence and courage in the heart of the warriors (vv. 3 – 4), followed by the words of the officers, who announce the exemptions from battle (vv. 5 – 8).¹⁴ First, we read the priest’s address: 3

Hear, O Israel, you draw near this day to battle against your enemies let not your heart faint; do not fear, or tremble, or be in dread of them; 4 for the Lord your God is he that goes with you, to fight for you against your enemies, to give you the victory.

It is clear that within this address are embedded the introductory phrases of the lawgiver (v. 1): When you go forth to war against your enemies, and see horses and chariots and an army larger than your own, you shall not be afraid of them; for the Lord your God is with you, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt.

However, as a hortatory speech addressed to the warriors (oratio directa) it is adapted to the occasion in which it is made and to the function it is meant to fulfill.¹⁵ The lawgiver’s address in the second person singular, in accordance with the normal pattern of address in the Deuteronomic legislation (the “ifyou” pattern),¹⁶ is replaced by an address to the warriors in the second person plural, a form of address suited to a public audience. It is known that alternation between singular and plural forms is not unusual in biblical literature and often no special meaning need be attached to it. But in the current example it appears to have been designed to emphasize the difference between formulaic language and realistic speech.¹⁷ The substitution reflects the difference between the lawgiver’s exposition, and the priest’s “real” speech. Similarly, the lawgiver’s statement, “And when you draw near to the battle” (v. 2), undergoes a transformation when spoken by the priest, to a more concrete and dramatized utterance: “Hear, O Israel, you draw near this day to battle.” At the center of the priest’s address, as in the lawgiver’s opening phrase, there are two significant elements: the appeal to the warriors not to fear the

 The paradoxical nature of this passage is also reflected in its language, for it is somewhat surprising that in a law that deals with going out to war of all other possible action verbs it is rather verbs denoting speech, “say” and “speak,” which function as Leitwörter (appearing seven times, in vv.  – , , , ).  For the military oratory in Deuteronomy and the bellicose vocabulary and language reflected in extra-biblical documents see Weinfeld, Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School,  – .  See Harry Gilmer, The If-You Form in Israelite Law.  I hope this is a satisfactory explanation for those who wonder why there is a shift from the singular to the plural form (see Rofé, “The Laws of Warfare,” ).

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enemy, and the promise of Yhwh’s aid in achieving victory. But since the oratorpriest must adapt his words to the place, the time, the audience, and the special circumstances, he embellishes them all. The lawgiver’s appeal: “you shall not be afraid of them” is expanded in the speech to: “let not your heart faint; do not fear, or tremble, or be in dread of them” and the words of encouragement promising the help of God: “for the Lord your God is with you” is given much more detailed color in the priest’s words: “for the Lord your God is he that goes with you, to fight for you against your enemies, to give you the victory.” The expansion of both these elements—the appeal to fear not, and the promise of God’s help—play a vital, if not essential role in the preliminaries to war. First, there is the repetition, again and again, in four variants, which allows every kind of shade or tone of fear to be entirely preempted. Second, the detailed account (this time in three variants) reiterates God’s active role on the path toward victory. The expansion is, therefore, not a literary ornament; it has a clear rhetorical motive, arising from the circumstances and adapted to them. Moreover, it is not unlikely that the absence of the phrase “and see horses and chariots and an army larger than your own,” which appears in the words of the lawgiver, also indicates a “true” rhetorical reason, for one can imagine that the priest might omit such information intentionally, realizing that with a battle impending he should avoid describing sights that might only intensify the warriors’ fear.¹⁸ To summarize my argument so far, the rhetorical elements in the priest’s address reflect the occasion and circumstance of the address. But I wish to point out another important matter. One of the hallmarks of the law under discussion is its textual excesses, since both speakers, the lawgiver and the priest, say the same things (except for slight variations). This double presentation, which ostensibly has no real use, allows the lawgiver to present a sort of dialogue between his own words and the “real” address of the priest, thus allowing us to experience the rhetorical clout of the address; the actuality of the authentic utterance. The desire to affect our awareness (through repetition and linguistic excess) certainly is not part of the normative-legal plane of the law. It belongs to its literarynarrative stratum.

 Of course the absence of the phrase need not necessarily be viewed as a “conscious omission.” Even though the priest’s speech echoes the lawgiver’s words, an exact correspondence between the two is not necessary. Thus, for example, missing from his oration is the phrase appearing in the lawgiver’s words “who brought you up out of the land of Egypt.” As it is difficult to find a rhetorical reason for this omission (since mention of a past redemption actually strengthens confidence in future salvation), it seems to derive from the author’s elliptical style.

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2. Military Speech Acts Unlike the priest’s address, which deals with mood and esprit, the officers’ declarations, presented later on, have immediate pragmatic implications for action. As such, I propose to view them not as mere statements, but as what linguists term “performative speech acts”—utterances which are in and of themselves the performance of an action by the speaker.¹⁹ What gives the officers’ declarations their performative force is the voicing of the words, the speech act which grants the exemptions from going out to war. The officers make four declarations, each of which is composed of four parts: 1. An identical introductory question: “What man is there (mî hāʾîš)?” 2. A characterization of the warrior who is eligible for an exemption: “that has built a new house and has not dedicated it”; “that has planted a vineyard and has not enjoyed its fruit”; “that has betrothed a wife and has not taken her”; “that is fearful and fainthearted.”²⁰ 3. A repeated instruction which states the exemption: “Let him go back to his house.” 4. A motive clause, beginning with the uniform formula: “lest he die in the battle,” and continuing with a specific justification: “and another man dedicate it”; “and another man enjoy its fruit”; “and another man take her”; “lest the heart of his fellows melt as his heart.”²¹ Do we really hear the officers’ words? Are we capable of believing that these words were spoken before going out to battle? Or does the repetition of the identical formulas accentuate, rather, the literary stylization of the declarations, thus damaging the mimetic illusion? On the one hand, it stands to reason that whoever was in charge of the warrior corps would announce the exemptions with one blanket utterance, and not with four separate statements.²² At the same

 See Austin, How to Do Things with Words. On speech acts in biblical discourse see White, Speech Act Theory, and on speech acts in biblical law see Jackson, Studies,  – .  The first three declarations are constructed along one uniform model, according to which the warrior began a certain action but did not have time to complete it. The fourth declaration is different because it does not refer to an action performed by the warrior, but to his mental state.  In the first three declarations the justificatory clauses express the notion that someone who has begun an action is entitled to enjoy its outcomes. The lawgiver has in mind the welfare of the warriors. In the fourth declaration, in contrast, the lawgiver has in sight the general good.  Similar to the one inclusive utterance addressed to the warriors, as described in  Macc : – ).

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time, the separate, personal addresses (which are the cause of the repetitions) are indeed suited to an occasion of a public verbal declaration, and thus have a real function. At a large convocation, the repetition of the utterance may facilitate the audience’s processing of the information, while the “condensation” of the same information into one general utterance could encumber their comprehension. Therefore, the repetition, which appears to be a literary-artistic choice, may in fact reflect a realistic element. However, questions still need to be asked. Is it likely that on the eve of battle the officers would formulate their words through interrogative sentences and support them with justificatory clauses? Is it not to be expected, rather, that due to the circumstances the exemptions would be announced categorically, with the aid of the formula “a man who (ʾîš ʾăšer)”? Indeed, it appears that even the repetition of the question “What man is there?” reflects a level of realism, for it may mirror the actual, concrete process of identifying the warriors eligible for exemption; the officers using it, in fact, to obtain information not available to them.²³ The repeated question may have another aspect, realistic as well. The syntactical “exploitation” of the interrogative clause is not intended only for receiving information, but its purpose is also to affect the audience to whom the question is addressed. The question presented is not only addressed to the exempted soldiers, but also (and especially) to the public at large. It creates a type of dialogue between the askers and those questioned and requires the participation of the audience with the intention of receiving its consent. The rhetorical use of a sequence of question and answer with the addition of a motive clause shifts the emphasis from the need to locate the warriors to the need to justify the granting of exemptions. Including the audience in the process of decision-making allows a public attainment of collective agreement for an action that might normally cause agitation among the body of warriors. The officers’ declarations, then, have rhetorical features, deriving first and foremost from the functions they are designed to fulfill. Therefore, despite their literary stylization, they are capable of creating an illusion of reality for us.

IV. Point of View In regard to fiction, the identification of the perspective from which the story is told and the understanding that the narrator may choose an alternate perspec-

 See, for example, Judg : (cf. :; :; :).

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tive, are axiomatic truths. Perspective is a rhetorical device that allows the narrator to paint human experiences in different and variable colors.²⁴ On the other hand, a lawgiver’s ability to wield a richness of perspectival frames within a legal text is not at all taken for granted. Events are reported and characters are usually depicted from the point of view of the lawgiver, the one who examines matters and decides them. However, in not a few cases in biblical law the angle of vision from which events are presented is not the lawgiver’s but rather the subjective point of view of one (or more) of the characters who take part in the events. The law of going out to war and the law of a beautiful captive woman (Deut 21:10 – 14) are two of these cases. One of the lexical markers that indicate that the lawgiver (like the narrator) presents things as seen through the mind of one of the characters is the use of verbs or idioms that denote sensory or cognitive perception (sight, hearing, knowing, understanding). The use of these verbs indicates that the character himself, and not the lawgiver, perceives and understands matters, and that the voice of the speaker chooses to hew close to his or her perceptions. We will discover how, through the use of the verb “to see” within the above mentioned laws of war, we are exposed to a personal point of view and realize how this serves the spirit of the laws.

1. From Seeing to Fearing Point of view has a decisive influence on the first part of the law of going out to war (vv. 1– 4), because the perspective from which events are described explains the gap between the confident and promising opening words and the subsequent text, which reflects the opposite sentiments. In fact, it is point of view which is responsible for this gap between promise and realization. At the focus of the general action of going to war stands another fateful event—an event of acquaintance—which impacts everything that follows. The protagonist sees the enemy against which he is going to war (“When you go forth to war against your enemies, and see horses and chariots and an army larger than your own”) and this sight overwhelms him with fear.²⁵ To understand the about-face that the protagonist experiences—from a voluntary decision to go to war, to a feeling of fear and aversion from its prospect—we must explore what  On perspective, point of view and the like, see Genette, Narrative Discourse,  – ; Bal, Narratology,  – ; Specifically concerning biblical narrative see Bar-Efrat, Narrative Art,  – ; Yamasaki, Watching a Biblical Narrative.  This conclusion arises, by inference, from the words of the lawgiver and the priest (vv. b, ).

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this sight holds that so diminishes his will to fight and his endurance. The manner in which the enemy is perceived by his consciousness will, presumably, explain the change in his inner world. The description of the enemy and more precisely, of the enemy’s army, includes two elements. First the means of war are presented (“horses and chariots”), and next the fighting force (“an army larger than your own”). This presentation is neither incidental nor arbitrary, but flows rather from the way in which the details are perceived from the protagonist’s subjective point of view. Certainly, one could suppose that the order in which the details are communicated is a matter of the lawgiver’s stylistic choices, for he is responsible for the linguistic formulation of the description, even if it is delivered from another point of view. However, in this instance I prefer to understand that the description arises from the lawgiver’s conformity to the protagonist’s state of mind, because the protagonist first notices the sights which are more frightening and threatening —the horses and chariots that the enemy possesses, and which his army does not. His gaze focuses on those things that reflect the enemy’s clear military superiority, which he fears he is ill-equipped to challenge, and only later does he notice the seeming multitude of enemy warriors, who appear to outnumber him. In short, because technological superiority is more threatening than numerical superiority, this aspect is the first to enter his consciousness. Undoubtedly another, non-psychological explanation could be given for the order in which matters are presented. The fact that the scene is described from a personal point of view does not rule out the possibility that the way information is organized in the given passage is based in reality. In other words, the details of the scene become known to the protagonist not as a function of the level of anxiety that each engenders, but rather as they appear in reality. Since the horses and chariots are positioned on the front line, before the infantry, he sees them first.²⁶ Either way, whether the protagonist perceives the facts as they are, or as they appear to him, the overall scene has a decisive influence on his state of mind. The lawgiver’s choice to describe the enemy from up close, from the point of view of the protagonist who has gone to war (the reader’s knowledge of the enemy is mediated through the eyes of the protagonist), concretizes a sense of alarm and fear of military confrontation. It also explains why a law that begins with the protagonist’s action and initiative does not deal at all with preparation for battle, but only with strengthening his morale and encouraging him. It is be-

 See a similar presentation in Exod :;  Sam :;  Kgs :. Compare the different presentation in Josh :.

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cause the visual scene disrupts the normal sequence of events that would have been expected to ensue after the lawgiver’s vigorous opening words.

2. Love at First Sight In the law of the beautiful captive woman, too, it is the arresting sight of the woman, as perceived by the protagonist, which stops the sequence of military events. This law deals with a different kind of encounter, and the protagonists gaze is also different; it is a gaze that requires the lawgiver to deal with the restraining of passions and the setting of boundaries. 10

When you go forth to war against your enemies, and the Lord your God gives them into your hands, and you take them captive, 11 and see among the captives a beautiful woman, and you have desire for her and would take her for yourself as wife. (Deut 21:10 – 11)

As the battle subsides, when the protagonists is expected to deal with the gains of his victory—the prisoners and the booty—he notices a beautiful woman he is holding captive. The captured town has many women, and some are undoubtedly beautiful, but the protagonist sees only one—the one he sees as beautiful. He does not see what others might see: the daughter of an enemy, a foreign woman, a frightened and humiliated woman, a woman bemoaning her fate and that of her people or countrymen. He sees rather a beautiful woman whom he desires and who arouses his passions. The focalization of the subjects from the perspective of the protagonist illustrates the effect this sight has and the intensity of emotion it arouses (this time it is not fear, of course, but lust). And the lawgiver, who understands the power of the gaze and knows that there will be an aftermath to it, seeks to establish the woman’s rights and the protagonist’s duties toward her, in order to look after her future, and arrange their future together.²⁷ The lawgiver’s choice to represent a personal point of view and not merely to picture events from his own external standpoint is one of the factors that shape our relationship to the characters and the events in their world. It also directs us to a more emotional and lively reading experience.

 It is interesting to note the difference between the description of the protagonist’s first encounter with the woman, in which he is focused only on her external looks, and the description of his later attitude towards her, after he brings her home. At this point he relates not only to her looks but takes her internal life into consideration as well; her mourning and her feelings toward her family (vv. ‒).

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V. Dialogical Aspects A dialogical outlook imagines a communicative discourse in which a relationship of mutuality obtains among the speakers; a discourse which implicitly contains a request for the other’s attentions; that includes an expectation of a response. Someone who takes part in a dialogue takes into account the background, thoughts, beliefs, and needs of his or her partner to the conversation. Therefore dialogue has the potential to increase and deepen understanding. It can also create new understandings. It can therefore serve as a basis for transformation. The dialogical dimension we see in biblical legislation derives chiefly from its nature as “face to face” lawmaking. The act of legislation is presented as a meeting between the lawgiver—either he himself, or his messenger—and his addressees. But the lawgiver is not content only with a relationship predicated on the delivery of the laws via an unmediated encounter. Rather, he weaves this relationship in various ways into the very texture of the laws. I-you relations that take place in “reality” (in the narrative reality) seep into the laws. This is accomplished, first and foremost, by the direct appeal to the addressees (one of the unique characteristics of biblical law in comparison to other Ancient near eastern law collections, and one of the salient characteristic of the Deuteronomic legislation),²⁸ and also by providing the addressees with explanations and justifications for the legal norms (known as “motive clauses”). These reveal the lawgiver’s legal understanding, his religious, national, social and moral point of view, and at the same time demonstrate his acknowledgment of their background, thoughts and needs.²⁹ Alongside these evident dialogical elements there are other signs, less prominent, that may indicate the lawgiver’s dialogical approach. Some of them appear in the law of ḥērem and in the law of laying siege to a city.

 The laws of warfare are a good example of the use of direct address (see : – ,  – ,  – ; : – ; : – . In this respect : is an exception).  The laws of warfare are an outstanding example of the lawgiver’s intensive use of “motive clauses” (see :b, , b, b, b, b, , bis; :b; :; :b). In modern legislation such comments will not appear within the laws themselves, but rather in their explanatory sections, where the justifications for the legal norms are presented by the legislators. On “motive clauses” see Gemser, “The Importance of the Motive Clause”; Sonsino, Motive Clauses. It should be noted that among the laws of Hammurabi and the Middle Assyrian laws there are some motivated laws, but this is a minor phenomenon in comparison with the laws of the Pentateuch, which are replete with motive clauses (on reasoning in Mesopotamian laws see Sonsino, Motive Clauses,  – ; Roth, “The Because Clause”.

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1. Extermination and Rescue 10

When you draw near to a city to fight against it, offer terms of peace to it. 11 And if its answer to you is peace and it opens to you, then all the people who are found in it shall do forced labor for you and shall serve you. 12 But if it makes no peace with you, but makes war against you, then you shall besiege it; 13 and when the Lord your God gives it into your hand you shall put all its males to the sword, 14 but the women and the little ones, the cattle, and everything else in the city, all its spoil, you shall take as booty for yourselves; and you shall enjoy the spoil of your enemies, which the Lord your God has given you. 15 Thus you shall do to all the cities which are very far from you, which are not cities of the nations here. 16 But in the cities of these peoples that the Lord your God gives you for an inheritance, you shall save alive nothing that breathes, 17 but you shall utterly destroy them, the Hittites and the Amorites, the Canaanites and the Perizzites, the Hivites and the Jebusites, as the Lord your God has commanded; 18 that they may not teach you to do according to all their abominable practices which they have done in the service of their gods, and so to sin against the Lord your God. (Deut 20:10 – 18)

The law of ḥērem is organized in a contrastive structure: war and peace; a city which accepts the peace terms and a city which refuses them; forced laborers and dead males; men as opposed to women, children, cattle and spoil; “the cities which are very far from you” and “the cities of the nations here”; extermination versus rescue. On account of the repeated contrastive pattern the fate of every “participant” is understood against the background of the fate of the “opposed partner”; one illuminates the other. The contrasting analogy is one of the rhetoric devices employed by the lawgiver to facilitate understanding and internalization of the legal norms. From a legal perspective, the statement: “and when the Lord your God gives it into your hand you shall put all its males to the sword” (v. 13) defines the boundaries of the binding norm. The protagonist is commanded to execute the males; just the males. The natural outcome is that he takes possession of everything that is left in the city; everything is given into his hand. Nevertheless, the lawgiver is not satisfied with the specific statement. He considers the legal arrangements from the addressees’ point of view, and in anticipation of questions that might occur to them he provides clarifying elaborations: “but [lit. only] the women and the little ones, the cattle, and everything else in the city, all its spoil, you shall take as booty for yourselves…” (v. 14). While the second statement is not essential from a legal point of view it is obvious from a dialogical perspective, because it serves as an answer to the trivial questions that may cross the addressee’s mind: and what about the women and children? How should I handle with inanimate goods?

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The lawgiver’s tendency for clarification is clearly demonstrated in the wording of v. 14. It certainly brings about an “informational redundancy,”³⁰ which is apparently not typical of legal texts. The permission to take spoils from the conquered city stripped of its males is given within a frame that juxtaposes a general and particular statement. Although the general statement is sufficient to define the boundaries of the commandment, while the particulars are of no real use, the lawgiver considers the blend of the concrete and abstract to have value. The permission is sweeping and unrestricted, as is shown by the double use of words denoting wholeness (wěkōl, kol). Accordingly, the three examples enumerated in the beginning of the verse (“the women and the little ones, the cattle”) are unnecessary. Though it is understandable why the lawgiver should wish to provide illustrations, as this reinforces comprehension, would it not have been more sensible to begin with general statement of permission to enjoy the spoils, and only then to offer examples? Possibly, but it seems that in this instance the superfluous wording does not arise from a desire to provide illustrations; the reason for the internal order of the wording would seem to be different. Since the lawgiver wants to emphasize that the protagonist is here given carte blanche to enjoy the spoils, he chooses to start with a restricted list of the items, and then to intensify it with two sweeping statements.³¹ He allows him to gradually absorb the meaning of this great windfall and feel thrilled at its boundless promise. The final declaration: “and you shall enjoy the spoil of your enemies, which the Lord your God has given you” (v. 14b) stresses the enjoyment that is held in store. In the following statements the relation between the general and the particular is different. The lawgiver starts with a general phrase: “But in the cities of these peoples that the Lord your God gives you for an inheritance…” (v. 16) and continues with the detailed list: “the Hittites and the Amorites, the Canaanites and the Perizzites, the Hivites and the Jebusites” (v. 17). Unnecessary as it may be from a legal perspective, the mention of every nation “that the Lord your God gives you for an inheritance” conveys a pleasant feeling of omnipotence. Another figure of repetition that is used by the lawgiver in vv. 16 – 17 is a grammatical construction which presents the legal norm in a binary contrasting manner. The legal norm appears both in the affirmative and in the negative: “you  This expression was coined by Meir Sternberg in relation to structures of repetition in biblical prose (see Sternberg, The Poetics of Biblical Narrative,  – ).  This form of parallelism is similar to the structure in which one colon intensifies the information or the argument communicated in the first colon, which Robert Alter has called “a structure of intensification” (see Alter, The Art of Biblical Poetry,  – ).

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shall save alive nothing that breathes, but you shall utterly destroy them.” Presenting the legal norm by means of a contrasting analogy enables the addressee to better understand the lawgiver’s assertions. For that reason I label this literary device “clarifying contrast.”³² Clarifying contrasts (among other literary devices) indicate that the lawgiver does not view his role as restricted to the description of the relevant facts and the establishment of legal norms. He also proffers secondary statements, serving as an explanation or emphasis; the lawgiver responds to the laws’ contents. An interesting “lawgiver’s response” is recognized in the statement: “Thus you shall do to all the cities which are very far from you” (v. 15, the last part: “which are not cities of the nations here” is of course a clarifying contrast). The lawgiver extends regulations, already prescribed in the law (in vv. 10 – 14), to additional objects or subjects: from one specific city to all the cities.³³ Instead of taking the additional element into account in advance, as an integral element of the legal arrangement, he presents it as “afterthought.” He seems to have reexamined his statements, realized that the legal arrangement is partial and insufficient, and made up his mind to add elements that should have been initially included. The proposed interpretation of the analogical extension as afterthought and as the lawgiver’s response departs from the standard scholarly interpretation (although the two approaches have much in common). It is widely agreed that the analogical extensions reflect legistic additions to existing legal regulations, aiming to adjust the fixed legal rules to different/new circumstances/conceptions, and the decision whether a specific analogical extension is primary or secondary (is itself interpolated to the original law of D) is based on grammatical grounds.³⁴ Deut 20:15 is considered an attempt to harmonize the preceding legal regulations with the following law of extermination (vv. 16 – 18). I wish to emphasize that I

 Another variant of this common literary device appears in the law of a beautiful captive woman. Two different norms, one permitting and the other forbidding, are presented side by side: “Then, if you have no delight in her, you shall let her go where she will; but you shall not sell her for money, you shall not treat her as a slave” (:). The combination of the command and the prohibition and their interdependence, are mutually illuminating. Many of the clarifying contrasts are phrased according to a figure of parallelism commonly used in biblical poetry, known as “negative parallelism.” See Held, “The Action-Result Sequence,” ,  n. ; Kugel, The Idea of Biblical Poetry, ; Berlin, The Dynamics of Biblical Parallelism,  – ; Cohen, “The Phenomenon of Negative Parallelism”; Yaron, “Stylistic Conceits”.  Michael Fishbane labels such an extension “analogical extension” (see Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation, ). Analogical extensions also appear in the law of the male and female slave (:b) and in the law of return of lost property (:). See in addition Exod : and :.  See Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation,  – ,  – ,  n. .

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do not reject that standard scholarly opinion, but propose an approach that examines the extensions as part of a communicative interaction that occurs internally within the laws. A question still remains: why does the lawgiver present himself as someone who must reexamine his words? The answer relates to the implicit dialogue that he is conducting with his addressees. He considers the legal arrangements from their point of view, and again, in anticipation of questions that might occur to them, he provides clarifying extensions. The rules of subduing and capturing a city contain no reference to the city’s geographical location or the identity of its inhabitants. A question might therefore arise of whether these rules are valid in regard to any city against which war is waged. The lawgiver provides the answer; he responds to his addressees’ needs.

2. Military Botany The dialogical character of biblical law is especially conspicuous in the law of a besieged city. The law contains two motive clauses, one in the form of a rhetorical question: “… you shall not destroy its trees… for you may eat of them, and you shall not cut them down. Are the trees in the field men that they should be besieged by you?” (v. 19).³⁵ The addressee may experience the lawgiver’s presence and engagement and the reader may experience the constant dialogue that is underway within the law. The dialogue continues to the next statement: “Only the trees which you know are not trees for food you may destroy…” (v. 20).³⁶ As the lawgiver foresees that the besiegers may encounter the challenge of ignorance of botany—they do not know is it a fruit tree or a tree bearing no fruit—he supplies them with a clear and unequivocal standard. The reason for the prohibition to use fruit trees for siege-works is utilitarian. It is based on the trees’ capability of supplying the be It should be noted that according to a different interpretive approach (accepted by traditional exegesis, following Ibn Ezra) contends that the utterance (‫ ) ִכּי ָהָא ָדם ֵעץ ַה ָשּׂ ֶדה‬is not an interrogative but rather an indicative statement, pointing out that humans are sustained by the trees of the field. Because this statement is incorporated in the motive clause “for you may eat of them,” the corrupt v.  should be read (and emended) as follows: “… you shall not destroy its trees by wielding an axe against them; for you may eat of them, for man is the trees of the field, and you shall not cut them down so that you may build siegeworks.”  According to Alexander Rofé the prohibition to destroy trees when preparing for siege of a city, which appears in v. , refers to all the trees. It is only v.  that delimits the prohibition to fruit trees (see Rofé, “The Laws of Warfare,”  – ). Without rejecting this opinion I still prefer to characterize v.  as a “lawgiver’s response.”

“When you go forth to war against your enemies…”

19

siegers with sustenance. Therefore, in order to ensure that no fruit tree will be destroyed by mistake, the lawgiver establishes the criterion of certainty. Any doubt concerning the classification of the tree benefits the tree—it will not be cut down—and ultimately also benefits the soldiers, whose needs are recognized by the lawgiver. Dialogical laws seek not only to prescribe and prohibit, but also to influence the consciousness and awareness of their audience; they are suasive rather than authoritative. By revealing his attitude towards the narrated events, situations and characters (often and in diverse manners), the lawgiver invites the addressee/reader to respond to the substance of the laws; to contemplate and to feel, rather than just obey.

Bibliography Adam, Klaus-Peter et al., eds. Law and Narrative in the Bible and in Neighbouring Ancient Cultures: Conference on “Abstract Law and Case Narrative in the Bible and in Neighbouring Ancient Cultures”. FAT II/54. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012. Alter, Robert. The Art of Biblical Poetry. New York: Basic Books, 1985. Austin, John L. How to Do Things with Words: The William James Lectures Delivered at Harvard University in 1955. London: Oxford University Press, 1975. Bal, Mieke. Narratology: Introduction to the Theory of Narrative, translated by Christine van Boheemen. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1985. Bar-Efrat, Shimon. Narrative Art in the Bible, translated by Dorothea Shefer-Vanson in conjuction with the author. BiLiSe 7 / JSOT.S 70. Sheffield: Almond, 1989. Barmash, Pamela. “The Narrative Quandary: Cases of Law in Literature.” VT 54 (2004): 1 – 16. Bartor, Assnat. “The ‘Juridical Dialogue’: A Literary-Judicial Pattern.” VT 53 (2003): 445 – 64. —. Reading Law as Narrative: A Study in the Casuistic Laws of the Pentateuch. SBL.AIL 5. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2010. Berlin, Adele. The Dynamics of Biblical Parallelism. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1985. —. “Numinous Nomos: On the Relationship between Narrative and Law.” In “A Wise and Discerning Mind:” Essays in Honor of Burke O. Long, edited by Saul M. Olyan / Robert C. Culley, 25 – 31. Brown Judaic Studies 325. Providence: Brown University, 2000. Bialik, Haim Nahman. “hălākâ wěʾăggādâ.” In kol kitbê H. N. Bialik, 207 – 13. 2nd edn. Tel Aviv: Dvir, 1939. —. “Halakhah and Aggadah or Law and Lore,” translated by Leon Simon. Contemporary Jewish Record 7 (1944): 662 – 80. Binder, Guyora / Weisberg, Robert. Literary Criticisms of Law. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000. Brooks, Peter. “Narrativity of the Law.” Law and Literature 14 (2002): 1 – 10. Bruner, Jerome S. Acts of Meaning: The Jerusalem Harvard Lectures. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1990.

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—. “The Narrative Construction of Reality.” In Narrative Intelligence, edited by Michael Mateas / Phoebe Sengers, 41 – 62. Advances in Consciousness Research 46. Amsterdam / Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company, 2003. Carmichael, Calum M. Law and Narrative in the Bible: The Evidence of the Deuteronomic Laws and the Decalogue. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1985. —. The Spirit of Biblical Law: Spirit of the Laws. Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1996. —. Illuminating Leviticus: A Study of its Laws and Institutions in the Light of Biblical Narratives. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2006. Chatman, Seymour. Coming to Terms: The Rhetoric of Narrative in Fiction and Film. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1990. Cohen, Haim. ‫“[ התופעה של התקבולת השלילית והשלכותיה בחקר השירה המקראית‬The Phenomenon of Negative Parallelism and its Ramifications for the Study of Biblical Poetry”]. Beer-Sheva 3 (1988): 69 – 107. Cover, Robert. “Nomos and Narrative.” HLR 97 (1983): 4 – 68. Daube, David. Studies in Biblical Law. 2nd edn. New York: Ktav Publishing House, 1969. Dworkin, Ronald. “Law as Interpretation.” The Politics of Interpretation, Critical Inquiry 9 (1982 – 83): 179 – 200. Edwards, Derek. Discourse and Cognition. London: SAGE Publications, 1997. Farber, Daniel A. / Sherry, Suzanna. “Telling Stories Out of School: An Essay on Legal Narratives.” Stanford Law Review 45 (1993): 807 – 55. Fish, Stanley E. Doing What Comes Naturally: Change, Rhetoric, and the Practice of Theory in Literary and Legal Studies. Durham: Duke University Press, 1989. Fishbane, Michael A. Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1985. Fisher, Walter R. Human Communication as Narration: Toward a Philosophy of Reason, Value, and Action. Studies in Rhetoric / Communication. 2nd edn. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1989. Gemser, Berend. “The Importance of the Motive Clause in the Old Testament Law.” In Congress Volume Copenhagen 1953, 50 – 66. VT.S 1. Leiden: E. J. Brill 1953. Genette, Gérard. Narrative Discourse, translated by Jane E. Lewin. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1980. Gilmer, Harry W. The If-You Form in Israelite Law. SBL.DS 15. Missoula: Scholars Press, 1975. Greenstein, Edward L. “Biblical Law.” In Back to the Sources: Reading the Classic Jewish Texts, The First Complete Modern Guide to the Great Books of the Tradition: What They Are and How To Read Them, edited by Barry W. Holtz, 83 – 103. New York: Summit Books, 1984. Halberstam, Chaya. “The Art of Biblical Law.” Prooftexts 27 (2007): 345 – 64. Held, Moshe. “The Action-Result (Factitive-Passive) Sequence of Identical Verbs in Biblical Hebrew and Ugaritic.” JBL 84 (1965): 272 – 82. Hutchinson, Allan C. Dwelling on the Threshold: Critical Essays in Modern Legal Thought. Toronto: Carswell, 1988. Jackson, Bernard S. Law, Fact and Narrative Coherence. Legal Semiotics Monographs 1. Merseyside: Deborah Charles Publications, 1988. —. “Narrative Theories and Legal Discourse.” In Narrative in Culture: The Uses of Storytelling in the Sciences, Philosophy, and Literature, edited by Christopher Nash, 23 – 50. Warwick Studies in Philosophy and Literature. London: Routledge, 1994.

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—. Studies in the Semiotics of Biblical Law. JSOT.S 314. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000. —. “Literal Meaning: Semantics and Narrative in Biblical Law and Modern Jurisprudence.” International Journal for the Semiotics of Law / Revue International de Sémiotique Juridique 13 (2000): 433 – 57. —. Wisdom-Laws: A Study of the Mishpatim of Exodus 21:1 – 22:16. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006. Kugel, James L. The Idea of Biblical Poetry: Parallelism and its History. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1981. LaRue, Lewis H. Constitutional Law as Fiction: Narrative in the Rhetoric of Authority. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1995. Nasuti, Harry P. “Identity, Identification, and Imitation: The Narrative Hermeneutics of Biblical Law.” JLR 4 (1986): 9 – 23. Rofé, Alexander. “The Laws of Warfare in the Book of Deuteronomy: Their Origins, Intent and Positivity.” JSOT 10/32 (1985): 23 – 44. Roth, Martha T. “The Because Clause: Punishment Rationalization in Mesopotamian Laws.” In Veenhof Anniversary Volume: Studies Presented to Klaas R. Veenhof on the Occasion of his Sixty-Fifth Birthday, edited by Wilfred H. van Soldt, 407 – 12. UNHAII 89. Leiden: Nederlands Instituut voor het Nabije Oosten, 2001. Sonsino, Rifat. Motive Clauses in Hebrew Law: Biblical Forms and Near Eastern Parallels. SBL.DS 45. Chico: Scholars Press, 1980. Sternberg, Meir. The Poetics of Biblical Narrative: Ideological Literature and the Drama of Reading. Indiana Literary Biblical Series. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1985. Thompson, Leonard L. Introducing Biblical Literature: A More Fantastic Country. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1978. Tucker, Gordon. “The Sayings of the Wise are Like Goads: An Appreciation of the Works of Robert Cover.” CJud 45 (1993): 17 – 39. Watts, James W. Reading Law: The Rhetorical Shaping of the Pentateuch. BiSe. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999. Weinfeld, Moshe. Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1972 (Repr. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1992). Weisberg, Robert. “Proclaiming Trials as Narratives: Premises and Pretenses.” In Law’s Stories: Narrative and Rhetoric in the Law, edited by Peter Brooks / Paul Gewirtz, 61 – 83. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1996. White, Hugh C., ed. Speech Act Theory and Biblical Criticism. Decatur: Scholars Press, 1988. White, James B. The Legal Imagination: Studies in the Nature of Legal Thought and Expression. Boston: Little Brown, 1973. Yamasaki, Gary. Watching a Biblical Narrative: Point of View in Biblical Exegesis. London: T&T Clark, 2007. Yaron, Reuven. “Stylistic Conceits: The Negated Antonym.” JANES 22 (1993): 141 – 48.

Christoph Berner (Georg-August-Universität Göttingen)

Abraham amidst Kings, Coalitions and Military Campaigns Reflections on the Redaction History of Gen 14 and its Early Rewritings*

I. Introduction In the patriarchal narrative, war is merely a side issue which stands in stark contrast to the overall character of the events narrated in Gen 12– 36. In the vast majority of texts, the patriarchs are depicted neither as warriors nor as warlords, but as leaders of cattle-herding tribes which roam the region of Palestine and maintain peaceful relations with the other inhabitants. In contrast, a direct involvement of the patriarchs in acts of warfare is only reflected in two chapters, namely in Gen 14 and Gen 34.¹ From a redaction critical point of view, there is strong evidence to suggest that both chapters represent rather late (i. e., post-priestly) compositions.² Considering these matters in the wider context of the literary development of the Penta-, Hexa- and Enneateuch, one may thus draw the general conclusion that the patriarchal war narratives reflect the late merging of the once separate foundational myths of Israel; with the motive of warfare, a central element of the exodus-conquest-narrative and the ‘deuteronomistic’ history of the monarchy is finally introduced into the patriarchal narrative. Interestingly, this development is carried on in early Jewish literature. For instance, the Book of Jubilees does not only adopt the accounts from Gen 14 and 34, but further elaborates on the topic by introducing a number of additional sit-

*

My cordial thanks go to Dr. Anja Klein for proofreading the manuscript of this article.  The events narrated in Gen , moreover, seem to be alluded to in Gen :; : – . On the late date of composition of these verses as well as of the patriarchal blessings in Gen  (some of which employing a military imagery) as a whole see the new study of Ede, Die Josephsgeschichte.  See Kratz, Composition, . Similarly already Wellhausen, Composition,  – . Differently, e. g., Westermann, Genesis, , who claims that Gen ;  reflect an appropriation of the patriarchal tradition which can be dated to the time of the judges. It goes without saying that this uncritical equation of the literary and the historical level should be out of question from a methodological point of view.

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Christoph Berner

uations, in which the patriarchs were involved in military actions.³ Thus, it becomes apparent that there is a rather smooth transition between the late stages in the redaction history of the biblical text and early Jewish compositions like Jubilees, which may be perceived as yet another stage in the literary evolvement of the underlying traditions. In recent years there has been a steady interest both in the literary development of the patriarchal narrative⁴ and in its early Jewish rewritings.⁵ However, the two topics have been widely treated as independent issues, while attempts to establish an inclusive perspective on the development of both biblical and post-biblical texts are (quite regrettably) still exceptions to the rule.⁶ Hence, it is certainly one of the most important and most promising tasks for future research to further explore this path and bridge the artificial gap between the two research fields. Needless to say, this approach must take into account both the legal and the narrative material as well as the diverse phenomena of interaction between the two. It is only under these conditions that one can expect to illuminate new aspects of a comprehensive history of post-exilic literature. In the following, I will apply this approach to the account of Abram’s campaign against the eastern kings (Gen 14) and two examples of its early reception history, namely Jub 13 and 1QapGen XXI 23–XXII 26. Starting from a redaction critical analysis of Gen 14 (II.), I will then provide a concise exegesis of the different layers with special focus on the influence of legal concepts (III.). In the final section of this contribution (IV.), I will conclude by discussing the text of the rewritten versions in relation to the redaction history of Gen 14.

II. Analysis: The Literary Development of Gen 14 Both in structure and content, Gen 14 is perhaps the most remarkable passage in the entire patriarchal narrative. The chapter consists of two major parts:⁷ an annalistic account in 14:1– 11 (A) describing the military campaign of four eastern

 According to Jub : – , Jacob and his sons defeat seven Amorite kings. In Jub : – :, they vanquish Esau and enslave his Edomite offspring. Both episodes are taken up in the Testament of Judah (ch.  – ) where the portrayal of the patriarchs as warriors claims center stage.  See the most recent monographic studies of Ziemer, Abram; Granerød, Abraham.  See Segal, The Book of Jubilees; Machiela, The Dead Sea Genesis Apocryphon; Zahn, Rethinking Rewritten Scripture; Kugel, A Walk through Jubilees; van Ruiten, Abraham in the Book of Jubilees.  See Kratz, “Friend of God”; Vielhauer, “Sodom and Gomorrah”. See, moreover, the contributions in the recently edited issue The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Hebrew Bible, DSD / ().  See Ruppert, “Abraham und die Ostkönige,”  – .

Abraham amidst Kings, Coalitions and Military Campaigns

25

kings against a coalition of five rebellious vassal kings from Palestine, and a narrative in 14:12– 24 (B), which tells how Abram, together with a small number of armed men, chases and defeats the army of the eastern kings and brings back all the plunder as well as the people taken captive. Within part B, the brief Melchizedek episode (14:18 – 20) clearly stands out from its context. The episode interrupts the chain of events between the appearance of the king of Sodom (Gen 14:17) and his speech (Gen 14:21) and it is therefore regarded as a secondary insertion by most scholars.⁸ Indeed, there seems to be no reasonable alternative to this view.⁹ However, the literary relationship between parts A and B is far more difficult to determine. The peculiar style and content of part A as well as the fact that it makes no mention of Abram or any other character familiar from the patriarchal narrative have repeatedly given rise to the idea that this part represents a formerly independent piece of tradition.¹⁰ In contrast, part B has often been judged as a genuine part of the Abram cycle, to which part A was connected by the hand of a later redactor.¹¹ However, the problem of this solution is that part B is not a selfcontained narrative unit. The key motif of Abram pursuing the victorious army and restoring the plunder presupposes the battle account from 14:8 – 11. The fact that this narrative thread is taken up and continued in part B, makes it high-

 See Gunkel, Genesis,  – ; Emerton, “The Riddle of Genesis XIV”; Schatz, Genesis , – ; Zimmerli, . Mose –, ; Westermann, Genesis, ; Granerød, Abraham, –. Differently, e. g., Procksch, Die Genesis,  – . Also according to Ziemer, Abram,  – , the Melchizedek episode belongs to the “Grundschicht” of the chapter which, as Ziemer claims, can be reconstructed through a synoptic comparison between Gen  and the corresponding section in the Genesis Apocryphon (QapGen XXI –XXII ). Unfortunately, the author provides no reasonable explanation for his peculiar approach, which ignores the ample evidence that QapGen represents a rewritten version of Gen  (presupposing the redaction history of the biblical text!) instead of a parallel recension of a common source. See below, section IV.  As Granerød, Abraham,  puts it: “The other possibility, namely, that the narrative has been composed secondarily around the ME, is unlikely because the narrative frame does not seem to be dependent on the ME.” One should add that, if the negotiations between Abram and the king of Sodom did represent a secondary appendix to the Melchizedek episode (ME), it would be unintelligible why the editor willingly created an interrupted narrative sequence by placing the king’s appearance (Gen :) before the ME instead of giving it its proper place between : and :.  See von Rad, Das erste Buch Mose, ; Emerton, “The Riddle of Genesis XIV,”  – ; Westermann, Genesis,  – .  See the authors mentioned in the previous note.

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ly unlikely that this part has ever existed independently from the account in part A.¹² The more recent studies on Gen 14 have supported this view. They argue that the chapter (with or without the Melchizedek episode) is basically the work of a single author (if necessary, with a few later glosses).¹³ By some of these scholars, the peculiarities of Gen 14 are now attributed to the fact that it represents a late ‘midrashic’ composition, which draws on a variety of different source texts.¹⁴ Yet, although this assumption may generally account for the complexity of a narrative, it offers no sufficient explanation for the concrete tensions and literary seams attested to in Gen 14. To give but a few examples, one may point out the doublets in 14:3, 8 and 14:13, 14, the strangely unconnected identification of the enemies in 14:3, 9, 17a* or the contradictory and unbalanced portrayal of the fate of the king of Sodom and the king of Gomorrah in 14:10 – 11, 16 – 17. All these instances (and others more) provide clear traces of literary growth which call for a redaction critical explanation. As the different lines of the narrative meet in Gen 14:11, our analysis will start here. The verse describes how the victorious troops carry off the property of Sodom and Gomorrah. This concludes the battle account from the preceding three verses, where the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah (together with three additional kings) meet their enemies in the Valley of Siddim (14:8), take flight and fall into the bitumen pits of this area (14:10a). This makes it an easy job for their enemies to carry all the plunder away (14:11). The focus of the passage is clearly on Sodom and Gomorrah, while the fate of their allies is only reflected in an afterthought (14:10b), which suspends the narrative progress. The same applies to the detailed list of kings in 14:9, which interrupts the battle account in order to identify the enemies with the four eastern kings. Both 14:9 and 14:10b (as well as the mention of the three additional kings in 14:8) represent later additions. As will be demonstrated shortly, they are part of an editorial layer which has considerably changed the focus of the battle account. In its original form, the passage read as follows:

 See Ruppert, “Abraham und die Ostkönige,” : “Ohne den ersten Teil hinge die Handlung des zweiten in der Luft, sie wäre unverständlich. Ja, ohne die Exposition des ersten Teils, gar ohne Abraham, Sodom und dessen König wäre das Geschehen von V. *‒ so gut wie nicht vorstellbar.”  See Van Seters, Abraham,  – ; Blum, Komposition,  – ; Levin, Jahwist, ; Ziemer, Abram,  – ; Granerød, Abraham,  – .  See esp. Granerød, Abraham,  – . Similarly already Wellhausen, Composition,  – ; cf. Kratz, Composition, .

Abraham amidst Kings, Coalitions and Military Campaigns

27

8*

And the king of Sodom and the king of Gomorrah went out, and they joined battle with them in the Valley of Siddim. 10a Now the Valley of Siddim was full of bitumen pits; and as the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah fled, they fell into them. 11* So they took all the property of Sodom and Gomorrah¹⁵ and went their way.

Although the scene in Gen 14:8 – 11* belongs to the literary core of the chapter, it is certainly not the beginning of the narrative. The use of the personal pronoun ‫ אתם‬in 14:8 indicates that the identity of the enemies must have been revealed previously. Thus, at least parts of the preceding verses (14:1– 7) are obviously presupposed. For the moment, we can leave this issue aside and focus our attention on the continuation of the narrative in part B instead (14:12 – 17, 20 – 24). It will be demonstrated that reconstructing the literary development of these verses is a necessary precondition for unraveling the redaction history of 14:1– 7. The end of the battle account in Gen 14:11* provides a good starting point for the analysis of the ensuing text. In Gen 14:16a, the motif of the victorious troops carrying away “all the property of Sodom and Gomorrah” (14:11) is taken up and reversed, when Abram brings back “all the property” (14:16a). The two verses evidently correlate with each other, and it is therefore reasonable to assume that they are both part of the same literary layer. In consequence, the same must apply to parts of 14:12– 15, which serve as a narrative bridge between 14:11* and 14:16a. The core of the section is found in Gen 14:14b*.15a, which recount that Abram and his men pursue and defeat the victorious troops. While 14:16a connects smoothly to 14:15a, it is impossible to join 14:14b directly to 14:11*. What is required to connect the two verses, is a sentence, which introduces Abram into the narrative and explains, why he takes action. Both 14:13 and 14:14a fulfill this requirement, but it is highly improbable that both verses, which are only loosely connected with each other, should be original. As has frequently been argued, Gen 14:13 should be regarded as secondary:¹⁶ Firstly, Abram’s designation as a Hebrew (14:13a) is otherwise unparalleled in this chapter (as it is in the entire patriarchal narrative!). Furthermore, his Amorite allies play no discernible role in the subsequent military expedition, but only reappear once, in an afterthought at the end of the chapter (14:24).¹⁷ Thus, 14:14a repre-

 As will be argued below in greater detail, the reference to “all their provisions” (‫)ואת כל אכלם‬ in Gen : proves to be a later addition as well which prepares for the negotiations in Gen :.  See Emerton, “The Riddle of Genesis XIV,” .  Cf. Ruppert, “Abraham und die Ostkönige,”  (with slightly different redaction critical conclusions).

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sents the original introduction of Abram: Upon hearing that his relative Lot has been taken captive, Abram takes up the chase. If, however, the capture of Lot is the original motivation for Abram to enter the stage, this necessarily implies that 14:12a* and 14:16aβ also belong to this literary layer. Only here do we learn that Lot and his property had been taken away by the enemy (14:12a*) and are, in the end, brought back by Abram (14:16aβ). Yet, there is one problem to this reconstruction. The reference to Lot’s fate in 14:12a* is not an organic part of the preceding battle account, but shows all characteristics of a secondary appendix.¹⁸ The verse represents an almost verbatim repetition of 14:11*, with the decisive difference that the focus is no longer on the property of Sodom and Gomorrah, but on Lot and his property. Moreover, a similar syntactic structure recurs in 14:16, where the bringing back of Lot and his property is set off against the preceding analogous statement (14:16a) by means of an inverted verbal clause (14:16bα). As a result, it stands to reason that Lot did not belong to the core of the narrative, but was introduced by a later editor.¹⁹ This, however, calls into question our above reconstruction, as without Lot’s capture, there would no longer be a reason for Abram to appear on the stage (14:14a). Alternatively, one might suggest to delete the mention of Lot in Gen 14:14aβ as well. In this case, 14:14aα would have simply recounted that Abram heard (sc. of the events in 14:11*) and therefore pursued the retreating army (14:14b*).²⁰ Yet, upon closer examination, this solution is not convincing. On purely literary critical grounds, the deletion of 14:14aβ is unjustified, and it moreover creates a text in which Abram’s motivation for taking action is rather blurred.²¹ In consequence, one should maintain the idea that both Abram and Lot are an essential element of the original narrative (part B). Their complete absence in part A as well as the rather clumsy introduction of Lot through the resumption of 14:11* in 14:12a* is then best explained by assuming that part A stems from a source originally unrelated to Abram and Lot.²² This source (14:1– 11*) was adapted to the Patriarchal Narrative through the expansions in 14:12a*, 14*, 15a, 16abα, which establish an explicit connection between the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah

 See Westermann, Genesis, .  See Emerton, “The Riddle of Genesis XIV,”  – .  Cf. Ruppert, “Abraham und die Ostkönige,” .  See Van Seters, Abraham, .  Cf. von Rad, Das erste Buch Mose, . It should be pointed out that the assumption of a source does not necessarily imply antiquity or even historicity. One should rather think of a collection of tales on the proverbial cities of Sodom and Gomorrah which may also stand at the background of Gen ; cf. Levin, Jahwist,  – .

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on the one hand and Lot and Abram on the other hand. Contrary to first impression, one should therefore abstain from a literary critical differentiation between 14:16a and 14:16bα.²³ Rather, the chiastic construction reflects the connection between source (14:11*) and editorial expansion (14:12a*) and emphasizes the rescue of Lot, whose name is placed at the very center: And he brought back (I) all the property (II), and also his relative Lot (III) and his property (II ’) he brought back (I ’).

With Gen 14:16bα, the narrative arc established by the editor in 14:12a*, 14*, 15a comes to an end: Lot and his property are back in safety. What follows in 14:16bβ appears as an afterthought which brings back the focus to the main topic of the source, i. e., the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah (14:8 – 11*). Yet, going beyond the perspective from 14:11*, the author of 14:16bβ now claims that the enemies had not only taken the material belongings, but also the women and the people. In doing so, he prepares for the ensuing encounter between Abram and the king of Sodom, where the distinction between goods and persons is explicitly taken up (14:21). Thus, it can be suggested that Gen 14:16bβ, 17*, 21– 24* are part of the same literary layer. However, there remains to be clarified the place of the respective layer in the redaction history of the overall chapter. As 14:17*, 21 presuppose Abram’s involvement in the previous events, the editorial expansion of the source by 14:12a*, 14*, 15a, 16abα is necessarily in view. However, do 14:16bβ, 17*, 21– 24* represent the original continuation of this expansion or do they form a secondary appendix? Judging from the syntactic structure of 14:16, one is inclined to assume the latter. The loose connection of 14:16bβ with the particle ‫( וגם‬now used for the second time after 14:16bα) as well as the fact that, differently from the editorial technique employed with regard to Lot, the capture of persons is only reported in retrospect, seem to indicate that the motif is secondary. Yet, this judgment must prove itself with respect to content matters as well. Even without going into great detail, it is clear that the main purpose of Gen 14:16bβ, 17*, 21– 24* is to show that Abram not only rescues Lot and restores his property, but also keeps nothing of the belongings of the king of Sodom for

 Admittedly, Gen :bα looks like a secondary addition to :a (thus, e. g., Ruppert, “Abraham und die Ostkönige,” ), but, as has been argued above, it proves virtually impossible to reconstruct a stage in the literary development of Gen  at which Abram’s rescue operation was not yet tied to the fate of Lot. This does not rule out the possibility that such a text may have existed, but it necessitates the unfortunate assumption that considerable parts of it were lost in the course of the editorial process.

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himself. It is noteworthy that the king of Gomorrah, whose property had been taken away as well (14:11*), is no longer mentioned. This shift of focus in relation to the source (according to 14:10a both kings should actually be dead!) and to it’s editorial expansion (14:16a “all the property” indicates no preference for the king of Sodom) finds an obvious explanation in the extremely negative portrayal of the Sodomites in Gen 19 (cf. 13:13). Thus, when Abram rejects the king’s offer to keep the plunder, this happens not so much out of generosity, but out of open contempt and with the clear intention to avert potential damage to his reputation (14:23). This negative emphasis of the text is conspicuous. It gives the impression that the author tries to solve a problem he has already encountered in the text. In other words: Gen 14:16bβ, 17*, 21– 24* read like the revision of an earlier version of the narrative, where Abram had simply kept the property of the fallen kings for himself (14:16a). Thus, the respective verses should indeed be interpreted as a later appendix to the earliest editorial layer in 14:12a*, 14*, 15a, 16abα. So far, we have partly reconstructed three stages in the literary development of Gen 14: a battle account in 14:8*, 10a, 11* taken from a source (S) was adapted to fit into the Patriarchal Narrative through the editorial expansion in 14:12a*, 14*, 15a, 16abα (I), which was then supplemented with the encounter between Abram and the king of Sodom in 14:16bβ, 17*, 21– 24* (II). The asterisks indicate, however, that the latter scene includes some later additions as well: Gen 14:24 repeats Abram’s refusal to keep anything for himself (14:23aβb) and supplements reflections on the share of his men (cf. 14:13). Gen 14:23aα prepends a legal formula which is only loosely connected to the genuine oath in 14:23aβ²⁴ and obviously supplements a new, ‘international perspective’. Moreover, at least the reference to “God Most High, creator of heaven and earth” in 14:22b, but more likely the entire introduction of the oath represents an editorial interpolation, which establishes an explicit link to the later Melchizedek scene (14:18 – 20).²⁵ The

 The repetition of the conjunction ‫ אם‬is awkward. By omitting the second ‫אם‬, the LXX creates a smooth text (cf. Jub :; QapGen XXII  – ), but this reading is hardly original. The best explanation for the lectio difficilior represented by the MT is a redaction critical one: Gen :aα is a later explication of the original oath in :aβ, which was only now supplemented with a waw explicativum (‫ )ואם‬to facilitate the connection.  As the mention of Yhwh is only attested in the MT, it is highly unlikely that the original version of Gen :b read “I lift my hand to Yhwh” (thus, e. g., Westermann, Genesis, ). Rather, it seems reasonable to assume that the tetragrammaton represents a later gloss (Granerød, Abraham, ), which was introduced to give the formula a more orthodox ring. As a result, the solemn oath in :b* (“I lift my hand to God Most High, maker of heaven and earth”) is best explained as a later addition from the hand of the author of the Melchizedek episode (Ruppert,

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gloss in 14:17bβ, which identifies the Valley of Shaveh with the King’s Valley, is likely to belong to the same editorial layer. Finally, there is an extensive interpolation in the first part of 14:17: The awkward phrase “after his return from the defeat of Chedorlaomer and the kings who were with him” interrupts a more original connection between the first four words (“and the king of Sodom went out to meet him”) and 14:17bα (“at the Valley of Shaveh”). Thus, the scene devoted to the encounter between Abram and the king of Sodom originally consisted of 14:17aα*bα, 21, 22a, 23aβb only. Now the literary critical analysis of Gen 14:17 has decisive implications for the redaction history of the chapter as a whole. The interpolated reference to Chedorlaomer and his allies obviously belongs to the same literary layer as the secondary verse 14:9. Both additions specify in retrospect that Abram as well as the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah before him were facing an alliance of four eastern kings. Hereby, the narrative is adapted to the constellation, which dominates the beginning of part A (14:1– 7). Now the fact that this adaptation took place only at a fairly advanced stage of the literary development (later than stage II) and was moreover realized in a rather forceful manner, clearly indicates one thing: Obviously, the conflict with the eastern invaders does not reflect the original plot of the narrative, but rather a later transformation thereof. If, however, the identification of the enemies with Chedorlaomer and his allies proves secondary, it necessarily follows that they must have had a different identity during the earlier stages of the chapter’s development. At first glance, the quest for the original enemies may appear hopeless, but it is not. Despite the heavily edited text in 14:1– 7, their identity is still clearly discernible. The obvious solution has already been suggested by Otto Procksch, but unfortunately his ideas have hardly found any supporters. In his commentary, Procksch argues as follows: ²⁶ Ursprünglich nämlich scheint der Kampf (v. 2) gar nicht zwischen den Ostkönigen und den Zaunkönigen des Toten Meeres zu spielen, sondern zwischen Sodom und Gomorrha einerseits und Adma, Ṣeboim und Belaʿ andererseits. Denn Subjekt des mit (‫ )את‬Beraʿ und mit (‫ )את‬Biršaʿ geführten Krieges waren wahrscheinlich zunächst Šinʾab (ohne ‫)את‬, Šemʾeber (ohne ‫ )את‬und der König [von] Belaʿ (ohne ‫)את‬. Auch v. 10 f. stehen Sodom und Gomorrha als Besiegte allein; ihre Überwinder sind demnach vermutlich die drei anderen Könige. Diese nehmen auch Lot mit und verziehen sich nach Norden (v. 10 – 12), wo sie von Abram und seinen Verbündeten bei Dan an den Jordanquellen gepackt werden (v. 14) und der Beute verlustig gehen (v. 16).

“Abraham und die Ostkönige,” ). This, in turn, implies that, originally, Abram’s declaration in Gen :aβ had no introductory formula at all (cf.  Kgs :; Isa :; :).  See Procksch, Die Genesis, .

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Thus, according to Procksch, Gen 14 originally dealt with a military conflict between the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah on the one hand and the three other Palestinian kings mentioned in Gen 14:2 on the other hand. In fact, this interpretation may provide the best explanation for the undeniably awkward syntax of the verse: They made war with King Bera of Sodom and with King Birsha of Gomorrah: (namely) King Shinab of Admah, King Shemeber of Zeboiim, and the king of Bela, that is, Zoar.

As the battle account in Gen 14:8*, 10a, 11* joins smoothly to this introduction of the protagonists in 14:2, it is likely that this was the original narrative thread in the source underlying the chapter. Admittedly though, 14:2 is unsuitable as an absolute beginning of a narrative. At least, a short introductory formula must have preceded the verse, but it proves impossible to reconstruct. It was either supplanted or at least partly overlaid by the introduction of the four eastern kings in 14:1 and may have read something like “it happened in those days” (‫ ;ויהי בימים ההם‬cf. the Vulgate version of Gen 14:2, similarly 1QapGen XXI 23). Yet, these uncertainties about the original beginning of the text in 14:1– 2²⁷ do not affect the overall impact of the argument. On the contrary, the idea that the three remaining kings from Palestine were originally the enemies of the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah and should only later be declared their allies, finds further support from 14:3. Anticipating the situation recounted in 14:8, the verse explicitly states that “all these” (i. e., the five kings mentioned in 14:2) “joined forces in the Valley of Siddim”. Again, such a clarification that gets ahead of the course of events, suggests a significant editorial transformation of the original plot. Upon closer look, it becomes clear that 14:3 must belong to the same literary layer as the references to the eastern alliance in 14:9 and in 14:17a*. Taken together, the three verses prove to be the decisive means by which the editor achieved that the text no longer reflects the military conflict between the Kings of Sodom and Gomorrah and their three local enemies, but a penal expedition of four world empires against their five rebellious vassals from Palestine.

 The reconstruction is complicated further by the fact, that Gen : –  have perhaps been partly rephrased at a very late stage. The sequence of kings in : is unparalleled in the rest of the chapter and may, as already hinted at by Dillmann, Die Genesis, , result from a late alphabetical rearrangement (cf. also the rendering of Gen : in Jub : and QapGen XXI  where Chedorlaomer is mentioned in first position). Moreover, the names of the Palestinian kings given in : look suspiciously like late additions, as they are missing in the corresponding list in :.

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As argued above, this far-reaching editorial transformation of the narrative plot reflects an advanced stage in the literary development of Gen 14. It presupposes both the adaptation of the source (S: 14:[1*,] 2, 8*, 10a, 11*) in the Patriarchal Narrative (I: 14:12a*, 14*, 15a, 16abα) and the negotiations between Abram and the king of Sodom (II: 14:16bβ, 17aα*bα, 21, 22a, 23aβb). Only now the events transcend their provincial context and receive world historical implications. The respective editorial layer (III) appears first in 14:1 where the four eastern kings are introduced. In Gen 14:3 – 5aα, the editor then applies this new narrative constellation to the original battle account: The five kings from Palestine are declared rebellious vassals of Chedorlaomer and his allies, and it is to vanquish their rebellion that the eastern kings now appear on the scene. Although Gen 14:5aβγb– 7 provide a detailed account of their campaign, it has often been noted that neither the route nor the kings’ encounter with various (and in part mythical) inhabitants of the eastern and southern regions fit the exposition in 14:3 – 5aα. The easiest explanation is that 14:5aβγb–7 represent a later addition.²⁸ Without this passage, the end of the editorial exposition in 14:5aα provides a smooth transition to the older battle account in 14:8*. By adding the names of the remaining three Palestinian kings from 14:2, the editor then adapted the account to the new narrative constellation, which he clarified further in the concluding statement in 14:9: 14:5aα In the fourteenth year Chedorlaomer and the kings who were with him came. And the king of Sodom and the king of Gomorrah went out, as well as the king of Admah, the king of Zeboiim, and the king of Bela, that is, Zoar, and they joined battle with them in the Valley of Siddim, 9 with King Chedorlaomer of Elam, King Tidal of Goiim, King Amraphel of Shinar, and King Arioch of Ellasar, four kings against five.

8*

After Gen 14:9, traces of the respective editorial layer (III) can be identified in four more instances. Gen 14:10b reflects the fate of the three remaining Palestinian kings, originally the enemies of the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah and now their allies, and claims that they fled to the mountains. Considering the new, international background of the enemies now embodied by the eastern kings, Gen 14:15b states that they were pursued until the region of Damascus, i. e., beyond the confines of the promised land. Already looking back on these events, the interpolation in 14:17a* emphasizes again that Abram had in fact defeated Chedorlaomer and his allies. Finally, the formula “not a thread or a sandalthong!” in 14:23aα should also be attributed to the respective layer, as it reflects

 Similarly already Westermann, Genesis, ; Ruppert, “Abraham und die Ostkönige,” .

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the language of international treaty stipulations. Hence the reconstruction of the editorial layer, which introduced the eastern kings (III), is complete. It consists of Gen 14:1*, 3 – 5aα, 8a* (from “and the king of Admah”), 9, 10b, 15b, 17a* (from “after his return”), 23aα. Subequently, the modified plot of the narrative gave rise to an additional layer (IV), which fleshes out further details: Based on the dtr account of the wilderness wanderings in Deut 1– 3 (cf. Num 10 – 21),²⁹ Gen 14:5aβγb–7 specify the route of the eastern kings’ campaign. In anticipation of future events, the coalition from the east is now confronted with the same enemies eventually faced by Abram’s Israelite descendants. For Abram himself, however, the editor claims the situation to be the opposite: The Amorites, who are among the people attacked by the eastern invaders (14:7), are in fact his allies (14:13), and he makes sure that they receive their rightful share in the plunder after the defeat of the eastern kings (14:24). In the same verse, Abram also claims the provisions for his additional troups, and it is thus most likely that the introduction of this motif in 14:11 (“and all their provisions”) was added by the same hand. Finally, it is worthwhile to consider whether the mention of “his trained men” in 14:14 might not represent a reference to Abram’s Amorite allies and thus an additional element of layer IV added in conjunction with 14:13.³⁰ The redaction critical analysis of Gen 14 has brought to light an underlying source and four post-priestly editorial layers which reflect a successive differentiation of the narrative plot with regard to the military protagonists, their alliances and the distribution of the plunder.³¹ The fifth and final layer, the Melchizedek episode (14:18 – 20, 22b*), presupposes this development, but brings up a new subject by distinctly addressing priestly issues. Based on the results of the analysis,³² the following section will provide a brief exegesis of Gen 14. Proceeding layer by layer, I will pay special attention to the changing focal points of the chapter and the dynamics of interpretation, which find expression in the process of literary growth. Moreover, a particular emphasis will be laid on the reception of legal concepts, as this issue will prove crucial for determining the constantly changing relations between the protagonists of the narrative.

 See Van Seters, Abraham,  – .  The same could also apply to the number of  mentioned in the same verse (Gen :). It might have been added to distinguish between the trained men and the household slaves.  In addition, there are various potential glosses (see Ziemer, Abram,  – ) which may, however, be left out of consideration here.  For the reader’s convenience, the results of the analysis will be visualized in an appendix towards the end of this article, which contains both the Hebrew text of Gen  and its English translation.

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III. Exegesis: Abram’s changing roles in the course of the literary development of Gen 14 1. Abram, Lot and the property of Sodom and Gomorrah The bipartite structure of Gen 14 already characterizes the earliest version of the chapter. It results from the editorial expansion of the source describing the defeat of the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah (S: 14:[1*,] 2, 8*, 10a, 11*) with a narrative appendix (I: 14:12a*, 14*, 15a, 16abα) that connects this event to the Abram cycle, or, more specifically, to the situation exposed in Gen 13. The key motif of this chapter is the separation of Abram and Lot, with the latter one choosing the fertile Jordan valley as his area of settlement (13:11– 12), whereas the former one pitches his tents in the mountainous region of Hebron (13:18). While everything seems to suggest that Lot made the better choice, Gen 14* instantly clarifies that this is not the case. Quite to the contrary, Lot’s choice brings him in immediate danger to lose both his life and his property (14:12*), and it is only due to Abram’s intervention that Lot and his family arise unharmed from this situation.³³ However, the ultimate catastrophe is only postponed: the disastrous consequences of Lot’s choice eventually become clear when the cities of the Jordan valley fall victim to the divine wrath (Gen 19). The author of Gen 14* obviously anticipates this situation, but at the same time establishes a different thematic focus. In contrast to Gen 19, Lot now merely appears as a passive minor character, while Abram is clearly in control of the events. Not only does he rescue his relative and his belongings, he also benefits himself, as he takes over possession of all the property of Sodom and Gomorrah (14:16abα). Thus, on balance, only Abram draws profit from the incident by further increasing his wealth. Both motifs, Abram’s care for his relative (‫ )אח‬and the issue of their property (‫)רכוש‬, also take center stage in Gen 13. While the former motif also appears in the non-priestly text (13:8), their combination is characteristic of the priestly text (13:6, 11b, 12abα). The fact that this combination is taken up in Gen 14*

 See already the brilliant exegesis of Jacob, Das Buch Genesis, : “Lot hatte geglaubt, den besseren Teil erwählt zu haben, und sich von seinem Vaterbruder, den er vielleicht bedauerte, in dem Glauben getrennt, daß er ihn nie mehr nötig haben werde. Jetzt ist er als Kriegsgefangener wer weiß wohin verschleppt, und wer erscheint als sein Retter, der ihn zurückführt? Kein anderer als Abraham. Dem Neid und Streit um Hab und Gut war er aus dem Wege gegangen, für Unglückliche zieht er das Schwert.”

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thus strongly indicates that the chapter is of post-priestly origin.³⁴ This view is further supported by the following observation: Gen 13:14– 17 represent a (multi-layered) post-priestly appendix, which points out that Abram is not only promised a small territory, but the land in its entirety.³⁵ Now, the same perspective recurs in 14:14*, 15a, which tell how Abram pursues the enemies far to the north, until Dan. In the light of this correspondence, it strongly suggests itself that Gen 14* realizes the claim for the possession of the entire land as expressed in the post-priestly verses 13:14– 17.³⁶ Besides their importance for determining the place of Gen 14* in the redaction history of the Patriarchal Narrative, the territorial implications of Abram’s military expedition are also crucial for understanding the chapter’s unique portrayal of Abram. The city of Dan is not an arbitrary place, but designates the northern border of the united monarchy. As such, it frequently occurs in the coined phrase “from Dan to Beer-sheba”.³⁷ When Abram pursues the victorious troupes until Dan, he does, therefore, not so much act like a typical clan leader from the Judaean desert, but rather like a royal figure anticipating the Davidic dominion over the entire land. It fits this picture that the brief description of Abram’s campaign is in many respects reminiscent of David’s military operations. Here, the often described parallels between Gen 14* and 1 Sam 30 especially attract attention.³⁸ In both texts, people are taken captive (‫שבה‬: Gen 14:12a;

 See already Procksch, Die Genesis,  – ; cf. Gunkel, Genesis, ; Wellhausen, Composition,  – . Differently, e. g., Westermann, Genesis,  – , who strongly advocates an early date for all parts of the chapter (which, according to him, originally existed separately from each other). For an overview covering the positions of more recent scholarship see Ziemer, Abram,  – ; Granerød, Abraham,  – .  See Levin, Jahwist,  – .  Cf. Granerød, Abraham,  – , who, however, goes too far in claiming that the composition of Gen  responds to the Leerstelle after Gen : where Abram, instead of walking through the length and the breadth of land as he was ordered by Yhwh, settles by the oaks of Mamre at Hebron (:). Although sharing a similar perspective on the land in its entirety, the battle account of Gen  can hardly by considered to feature as the fulfillment of Yhwh’s order from :. Moreover, what Granerød fails to explain is why Gen : was written in the first place. Contrary to Granerød, one should seriously take into account the possibility that Gen : (which most likely represents a secondary appendix to : – *) might have already been written with Gen * in view.  Cf. Judg :;  Sam :;  Sam :; :; :, ;  Kgs :;  Chr :;  Chr :. See Granerød, Abraham, .  For a more detailed discussion of the parallels between the two texts see Granerød, Abraham,  – . In contrast, the parallels between Gen  and Judg  (highlighted, e. g., by Westermann, Genesis, ) prove less significant. They are limited to a roughly similar number

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1 Sam 30:2, 3, 5) by the enemy, and the military leader, together with his men, takes up the chase (‫רדף‬: Gen 14:14b*; 1 Sam 30:8, 10). In the end, the enemy is routed (‫נכה‬: Gen 14:15a; 1 Sam 30:17) and the captives as well as the plunder are brought back (‫שוב‬: Gen 14:16abα; 1 Sam 30:19). It goes without saying that this plot is much more at home in the David Saga than it is in the Abram Cycle. Therefore, it seems safe to assume that Abram’s portrayal in Gen 14 is influenced by a Davidic prototype. The patriarch thus receives features of a royal figure. The above reading of Gen 14:1– 16* is also supported by the first verses of the following chapter. In 15:1abα, Yhwh reveals himself to Abram in a vision saying: “Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield.” The assertion ‫ַאל־ ִתּי ָרא‬, in combination with the image of the shield, is more than appropriate for a divine oracle addressed to the king (cf. Ps 18:3, 31, 36).³⁹ In other words: It perfectly matches the situation described in 14:1– 16*. The same applies to the subsequent phrase in 15:1bβ, which like 15:1bα should best be rendered as a reference to Abram’s present situation: “Your reward is very great.”⁴⁰ As elsewhere, the term ‫שׂכר‬ does not express an unconditional promise for the future,⁴¹ but rather refers to the property of Sodom and Gomorrah (14:16a) as Abram’s reward.⁴² At least, this reading fits well Abram’s objection raised in 15:3: “You have given me no offspring, and so a slave born in my house is to be my heir.” In contrast to the later interpolation in 15:2,⁴³ the problem is not that Abram has nothing to hand down. Quite to the contrary, having no heir, he faces the prospect to bequeath everything he possesses to one of the slaves born in his house (‫)בן ביתי‬. In the chapters preceding Gen 15, this type of slave is only referred to once, namely in 14:14b*, where Abram musters the slaves born in his house (‫)ילידי ביתו‬. Again, this correspondence is hardly a coincidence, but clearly suggests that the two verses are explicitly related to each other. Given the cumulative evidence, it seems very unlikely that the unique imagery of Gen 15:1, 2– 3 could have developed without a version of Gen 14 preceding

of armed men (Gen :: ; Judg :: ) which are divided into sub-units (Gen :; Judg :). All this is certainly not sufficient to account for a literary dependency.  Cf. Westermann, Genesis, ; Carr, Reading the Fractures of Genesis, .  Cf. the German translation of Martin Buber and Franz Rosenzweig: “Fürchte dich nimmer, Abram, ich bin dein Schild, deines Lohnes ist sehr viel.”  Thus von Rad, Das erste Buch Mose, , opposed by Blum, Komposition, .  Similarly already Ehrlich, Genesis und Exodus, , who points out that a military connotation of the term ‫ שׂכר‬is explicitly attested in Ezek : – ; cf. Isa :. One should also note that the proposed reading of Gen : is reflected in A.J. I .  See Levin, Jahwist, ; differently, e. g., Ziemer, Abram, .

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it.⁴⁴ Rather, the image is explained easily as a reaction to the earliest version of the chapter in 14:1– 16*. After Abram had defeated the enemy, rescued his relative and returned with the property of Sodom and Gomorrah, God addresses him in a fashion appropriate to his royal role and confirms that the plunder is his reward. Abram, however, argues that, so far, he has no one but the household slaves (who had accompanied him on his campaign) to hand down to his belongings. However, Yhwh rejects his objection and promises that Abram will receive a biological son (15:4). To sum up, the ties between Gen 15:1, 2– 4 and the account in 14:1– 16* prove to be so close that it seems possible that both passages were composed by the same author.⁴⁵ Together, they establish a transition from the issues of material wealth and possession of the land, which stand at the center of Gen 13, to the topic of Abram’s rightful inheritance, which dominates the following chapters (Gen 16 – 18; 20 – 21).

2. Abram and the King of Sodom For the author of the earliest version of Gen 14 (I), there was nothing offensive about the idea that Abram had gained possession of the property of Sodom and Gomorrah. On the contrary, it was an essential point of the whole narrative to show that, in reversal of the constellation established in Gen 13, it would be Abram in the end, not Lot, who benefits from the wealth of the Jordan valley. Besides, Gen 12:16; 20:14 make clear that there was certainly no general problem about Abram increasing his possessions with the support of foreign rulers.⁴⁶ At the same time, it is easily understandable that not everyone would approve, once the proverbial sinners from Sodom (13:13) were involved. It is precisely these misgivings and concerns about the original plot that would eventually trigger the editorial expansion in 14:16bβ, 17aα*bα, 21, 22a, 23aβb (II), which gives the narrative a completely different twist: once again the king of Sodom is produced from the bitumen pits where he had fallen (14:10a), only to give Abram the opportunity to solemnly swear that he will keep nothing of the king’s property (14:22a, 23aβ). Hereby, he explicitly rules out that the king of Sodom might boast that it was him who made Abram rich (14:23b). With this concluding state-

 Thus the majority position, see von Rad, Das erste Buch Mose, ; Blum, Komposition,  – ; Levin, Jahwist, ; Granerød, Abraham,  – .  See Carr, Reading the Fractures of Genesis,  – .  See already Skinner, Commentary on Genesis, : “An earlier writer (cf. ) would perhaps not have understood this scruple: he would have attributed the enrichment of Abram to God, even if the medium was a heathen king.”

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39

ment, the author also established a new perspective on Gen 15: Yhwh’s assertion in 15:1 now reads like a promise of future reward, which will compensate Abram for his firm rejection of the property of the king of Sodom.⁴⁷ Although the main purpose of the appendix in Gen 14:16bβ, 17aα*bα, 21, 22a, 23aβb is evident, the narrative details of the scene deserve some attention. It is most significant that the king of Sodom offers Abram to keep the plunder only, after he has claimed “the persons” for himself (14:21). By introducing this second category (cf. 14:16bβ), the author obviously alludes to ancient near eastern vassal treaties, which regulate the distribution of different kinds of booty.⁴⁸ Read against this background, the king of Sodom assumes the position of the overlord, while Abram appears as his vassal who, after giving military aid, is offered the property he brought back as his reward. However, this entire hierarchical setting is only evoked to be deconstructed. When declining the king’s offer, Abram markedly rejects the attribution of the role of the vassal. Thus, the text emphasizes that Abram is not subject to any worldly power, but to Yhwh alone.

3. Abram and the Eastern Kings Abram’s portrayal as a royal figure (I) and the emphasis on his sovereignty by rejecting a potential vassal relationship with the king of Sodom (II) form the background for the extensive editorial reworking of the narrative plot in Gen 14:1*, 3 – 5aα, 8a* (from “and the king of Admah”), 9, 10b, 15b, 17a* (from “after his return”), 23aα (III). It is now that the eastern kings appear on the scene and the events receive a truly international dimension. The military confrontation in the Valley of Siddim, originally part of a regional conflict, now becomes the apex of a punitive expedition of Chedorlaomer and his allies against their rebellious vassals from Palestine. For more than one century, the identity of these four eastern kings has been subject to an extensive and controversial scholarly debate which need not be repeated here in detail.⁴⁹ For the purpose of discussion, it may suffice to point out that the overall evidence clearly suggests that the list is the work of a learned scribe from the Second Temple Period,

 This new perspective is also discernible in Gen :, which represents a secondary addition to the original scene in :,  – . Abram’s question “What will you give me …?” (:aα) takes Yhwh’s assertion from : as a promise of future reward. Thus, the scene in :bβ, aα*bα, , a, aβb is already in view.  Cf. the examples discussed by Muffs, “Abraham the Noble Warrior,”  – .  An overview is provided by Schatz, Genesis ,  – ; Westermann, Genesis,  – ; Ziemer, Abram,  – ; Granerød, Abraham,  – .

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who obviously drew part of his inspiration from the table of nations in Gen 10.⁵⁰ Thus, the anachronistic coalition of kings should be interpreted as a quasimythological representation of the constant threat, which emanated from the eastern empires whose politics had a decisive influence on the fate of the Syro-Palestinian corridor. With the eastern kings appearing on the scene, Abram finds himself in a situation, which closely resembles the circumstances prior to the downfall of the northern and the southern kingdom. One might even say that the history of the Israelite and Judahite monarchy is read into the Abram narrative, however, with the decisive difference that the patriarch succeeds where his descendants should eventually fail.⁵¹ Commanding a small number of men only, Abram manages to defeat the eastern invaders and to drive them out of the land (14:15b). In this way, Israel’s ancestor impressively demonstrates that he is in complete control of the territory, which Yhwh had promised to give him and his offspring forever (cf. 13:15).⁵² Seen in correlation with the situation of the post-exilic editor, the text thus provides a counter narrative that substantiates Israel’s claim for the possession of the land as opposed to the continuing experience of foreign rule. Probably, the message of the text even goes beyond establishing this general kind of foundation myth. The prominent position of Chedorlaomer, king of Elam, who is presented as the leader of the eastern alliance in 14:4, 5aα, 9, 17a*, is certainly not a coincidence. It may suggest an anti-Persian (or even anti-Seleucid?) stance.⁵³ In this context, the reference to Hobah and Damascus in 14:15b could further prove relevant, as the two cities hardly reflect the arbitrary choice of places beyond the northern confines of the Israelite territory. All these issues certainly deserve further attention; for the purpose of this article, it must, however, suffice that they are briefly hinted at.⁵⁴

 See Granerød, Abraham,  – . It should be stressed that this by no means excludes the possibility that the scribe was aware of earlier traditions or had a certain knowledge of foreign languages.  Placed in this thematic context, Lot’s capture and rescue (Gen :, ) suddenly reads like a prefiguration of exile and return.  One should note that there is also a conspicuous parallel between the redactional layer, which introduced the eastern kings (III) and the geographic horizon of the promise expressed in Gen : (“To your descendants I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates”). However, determining the precise literary relationship between the two texts would require further investigation.  Cf. Van Seters, Abraham, .  On the historical allusions of the chapter and their potential implications for determining an absolute date of composition see Granerød, Abraham,  – .

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41

Instead, we will focus on a small detail of the layer in question (III), which, however, attracts attention because of its legal implications. After having driven off the eastern invaders, Abram ultimately proves himself to be a man of international standard when, in his response to the king of Sodom, he uses the following formula: “Not a thread or a sandal-thong!” (Gen 14:23aα). It has already been pointed out by Ephraim A. Speiser that this proverbial phrase is based on a widespread formulaic tradition which is variously attested to in Ancient Near Eastern contracts and treaty texts.⁵⁵ As “a figure of speech signifying completeness,”⁵⁶ an Aramaic equivalent (miḥam weʿad ḥuṭ—“not a blade of straw or a piece of thread”) occurs in two marriage contracts from Elephantine in the context of regulations concerning the division of property in the case of divorce (B2.6: 15, 25; B3.3: 8 – 10).⁵⁷ However, this manifestation of the formula reflects a much older Akkadian precursor (lu ḫāmu lu ḫuṣābu—“not a blade of straw or a splinter of wood”), which is not only attested in economic, but also in political contexts.⁵⁸ For instance, in the prologue to the treaty between Šuppiluliuma of Hatti and Mattiwaza of Mitanni the overlord assures his vassal that the Hittites had never taken ḫāmu or ḫuṣābu from his territory, thus stressing his own integrity.⁵⁹ Finally, mention should be made of another Hittite text, in which the respective formula seems to occur in a context that specifically deals with the distribution of booty.⁶⁰ The historical section of the treaty between Šuppiluliuma of Hatti and his vassal Niqmaddu of Ugarit (RS 17.340)⁶¹ narrates how the latter calls his suzerain for military aid. As a result, Šuppiluliuma immediately dispatches Hittite troops, which defeat the enemies and restore the stolen goods. As an expression of his gratitude, Niqmaddu then offers Šuppiluliuma a share of the plunder, that is, of his own former belongings. Šuppiluliuma, however, declines and asserts that he will not touch anything of Niqmaddu’s property, not even “a blade of straw or a splinter of wood” (lu ḫāmu lu ḫuṣābu). Given that this reconstruction of the text is correct,⁶² it would indeed provide a close parallel to the negotiations between Abram and the king of Sodom in Gen 14:21– 23. Needless to say, however, this parallel may not be used to argue for a second millennium date

 See Speiser, “Figurative Element”; cf. Muffs, “Abraham the Noble Warrior,”  – .  Speiser, “Figurative Element,” .  Cf. Porten / Yardeni, Contracts,  – ,  – .  See Muffs, “Abraham the Noble Warrior,”  – .  Cf. Weidner, Politische Dokumente,  –  with n. .  On the following see Muffs, “Abraham the Noble Warrior,”  – .  Cf. Nougayrol, Textes Accadiens,  – .  Unfortunately, the respective passage is in a poor state of preservation. On the proposed reconstruction see Muffs, “Abraham the Noble Warrior,” ; cf. Nougayrol, Textes Accadiens, .

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of the composition of the biblical account.⁶³ All it can show is that the editor who supplemented the formula in 14:23aα was perhaps not only aware of its general legal implications, but might also have been inspired by its specific use in documents dealing with the distribution of booty between the suzerain and his subordinate.⁶⁴ One may ask, whether, in this case, the use of the formula in Gen 14:23aα might indicate more than just Abram’s proficiency in international law. Does it imply a further change in the hierarchy, with Abram, who had already sharply rejected the king of Sodom’s claim of supremacy in 14:23aβb (II), now assuming the role of the overlord himself, while the king of Sodom rather appears as Abram’s protégé (III)?⁶⁵ This reading of the text is certainly possible, although it cannot be proven beyond doubt. At least, a similar perspective seems to be presupposed in the next editorial layer (IV), where Abram is finally portrayed as a great king with his own allies; in short: as an adversary worthy of Chedorlaomer and his coalition.

4. Abram and his Amorite Allies The fourth layer of the text (Gen 14:5aβγb.6 – 7, 11*, 13, 14*, 24) explicitly introduces elements of the conquest tradition. In order to reach the site of the decisive battle, the eastern coalition now first has to defeat the inhabitants of the regions to the east and to the south. These are namely those people, who should eventually be encountered by the Israelites prior to their conquest of the land (14:5aβγb.6 – 7; cf. Num 10 – 21; Deut 1– 3).⁶⁶ It is certainly not a coincidence that Gen 14:7 concludes with the defeat of the Amorite inhabitants of Hazazon-tamar. Rather, it is obvious that this motif prepares for 14:13, which introdu-

 Thus, e. g., Speiser, Genesis,  – .  In a recent article (“Campaigning on Less Than a Shoe-String”), Scott Morschauser has drawn attention to a further parallel from Ancient Egypt. In one of his tomb inscriptions, Weni, a royal courtier who lived around  BCE, asserts that, while in command of his troops, he made sure “that no one took by force, flour or a sandal from the traveler, […] that no one took a ball of thread from any town(sman).” Although the text mentions the same elements referred to in Gen :, it must not be overlooked that the context is considerably different. The inscription does not relate to the distribution of plunder, but rather describes measures to prevent plundering.  Cf. Muffs, “Abraham the Noble Warrior,” .  For a detailed discussion of the parallels see Granerød, Abraham,  – .

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ces Abram, the Hebrew, and his Amorite allies Aner, Eshcol, and Mamre.⁶⁷ This implies another decisive shift of the narrative plot: Abram’s involvement in the events is no longer exclusively determined by his family ties with Lot, but also by the covenantal relationship he entertains with the Amorites. In a sense, the figure of Abram is thus recast as a military protection force, and it is in this context that he is attributed the national identity of a Hebrew.⁶⁸ As a result, the text now describes a conflict between three different coalitions: Chedorlaomer and the eastern kings, their five rebellious vassals from the Jordan valley and the Hebrew-Amorite alliance under Abram’s command. In the light of Abram’s new role as the leader of a coalition, an adjustment of his negotiations with the king of Sodom was imperative. Being responsible for his allies, Abram had to take care that they receive their rightful share in the plunder (Gen 14:24). The issues at stake here find a certain parallel in 1 Sam 30:21– 31. According to these verses, it was David, who first established the law that the booty should be equally divided among all soldiers, those that joined the battle as well as those that stayed in camp (1 Sam 30:24– 25). As 1 Sam 30 can be counted among the source texts used by the author of Gen 14 (I),⁶⁹ it is most likely that the editor who supplemented Gen 14:24 (IV) was aware of this passage. However, it must not be overlooked that the parallel exists only on a general thematic level, whereas the legal issues reflected in the two texts differ considerably. The claim expressed in Gen 14:24 is based neither on the law introduced in 1 Sam 30 nor on any other law found elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible. Rather, it reflects again an issue of Ancient Near Eastern vassal treaties, namely stipulations on booty-division. The same also applies to the idea that the king of Sodom has to account for what Abram’s men have eaten. Regulations concerning the provisioning of troops are again an essential element of treaty texts which the author of Gen 14:24 was evidently well aware of.⁷⁰ Abram is thus portrayed as an exemplary military leader, who ensures that both his own men and his allies receive their due. At this point, it should be pointed out that Abram may have acted in perfect agreement with ‘international’ law, but certainly not with the laws of Deuteronomy. Already his dealings with the king of Sodom are hardly in accord with the stipulations laid out in Deut 13:16 – 18; 20:16 – 18, which prescribe the destruction

 It has long been recognized that the names of Abram’s allies reflect personified locations (cf. Gen :; Num :); see Procksch, Die Genesis, ; Granerød, Abraham,  – .  On the use of the term “Hebrew” as a designation for the national identity of proto-Israelites (cf. Jon :) see Berner, “Hebrew/Hebrews”.  Cf. above, section III..  For a more detailed discussion of the material see Muffs, “Abraham the Noble Warrior,” –.

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of the inhabitants of the land and their property. Yet, all this is clearly outshone by Abram’s covenant (‫ )ברית‬with the Amorites, one of the seven nations the Israelites shall utterly annihilate and with whom they are explicitly forbidden to enter into a covenantal relationship (Deut 7:2). As Gen 14:5aβ–7 show, the author was well acquainted with (late) dtr texts, so it cannot be argued that he was not aware of the dtr war prescriptions. This, however, does not at all necessitate the assumption that the author meant to orchestrate an open violation of the laws in question. After all, it was him who gave Abram the national identity of a Hebrew (Gen 14:13), which clearly sets him apart from his Israelite descendants. One may, therefore, assume that the author made a distinction between the period of Israel when the stipulations of the Torah were binding, and the period of Abram when the Torah had not yet been revealed. Consequently, a covenant with the Amorites did not yet represent a violation of God’s commandments.⁷¹

5. Abram and Melchizedek Although pursuing different purposes, the layers II–IV share the general tendency that they employ (or at least allude to) legal concepts in order to create a narrative pattern, which exemplifies Abram’s relationship to the other protagonists. Exactly the opposite relationship between law and narrative can be observed in the secondary Melchizedek episode in Gen 14:18 – 20, 22b* (V). Here, the existing narrative framework of Gen 14* has been used to introduce a legal stipulation, namely the giving of the tithe, which is justified through the actions of the patriarch. As I have noted earlier, the author of Gen 14:18 – 20 has rather forcefully interrupted the original transition between the appearance of the king of Sodom in Gen 14:17 and his negotiations with Abram in Gen 14:21– 24. By doing so, the author has made a clear statement. The place of the insertion indicates that there is something much more important than the king of Sodom and his concern about the division of the plunder. Like the king of Sodom, these issues have to wait, until Melchizedek has settled his affairs. Despite the archaic coloring of the Melchizedek episode, its implications are quite obvious. Melchizedek, king of Salem and priest of El Elyon, represents the

 The enigmatic note in Gen :b according to which “the iniquity of the Amorites is not yet complete” might reflect an attempt to bring the two different perspectives together. Only after the guilt of the Amorites has reached its peak (i. e., not in the days of Abram, but at the time of the conquest), will they have to be annihilated (cf. Gen : – ). See, however, Gen : which claims, that already Jacob anticipated the conquest of Amorite territory.

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Jerusalem priesthood in post-exilic times.⁷² Already in Melchizedek’s blessing of Abram, the priestly interests are barely concealed: the divine blessing, a Leitmotiv of the Abram narrative since its beginning in Gen 12, can be received only through priestly mediation. Abram’s reaction in Gen 14:20b indicates that he obviously acknowledges this priestly claim. By giving the tenth part of everything, Abram submits himself to the authority of the priesthood. Thus, the hierarchy of the main characters in Gen 14 has—again—received a decisive modification. While in the previous layers (II–IV) Abram had more and more been shaped as the undisputed sovereign, this role now passes on to Melchizedek (V). It has already been indicated that Abram’s reaction in Gen 14:20b not only serves as an abstract acknowledgement of priestly authority, but also as an etiology for the law of tithes.⁷³ By giving the tenth part of everything to the priest Melchizedek, Abram establishes a custom, which the post-exilic author of Gen 14:18 – 20 obviously wished to be followed in his own days. However, although the general tendency of the etiology is clear, its details are not. What precisely is meant when Gen 14:20b states that Abram “gave him a tenth of everything” (‫ ?)ויתן לו מעשׂר מכל‬Considering the place of the Melchizedek episode in the context of Gen 14, it is reasonable to suggest that the verse refers to the booty. Immediately after returning from his campaign and before he can distribute the restored goods among the king of Sodom and his Amorite allies, Abram gives one tenth of all the booty to Melchizedek.⁷⁴ He thus pays kind of a pre-tax

 Cf. Van Seters, Abraham, , who rightly points out that Gen : –  already foreshadow the Hasmonean ideal of royal priesthood, while Melchizedek’s introduction as “priest of God Most High” can be regarded a precursor of the title used by the Hasmonean High Priest (cf. Skinner, Commentary on Genesis,  – ). It fits this picture that ‫ אל עליון‬is frequently attested in the Aramaic Levi document and in the Book of Jubilees. Obviously, this divine epithet was already held in high esteem by certain priestly circles earlier in the Hellenistic period (see Schubert, “ʾEl ʿÆljôn als Gottesname”). The Melchizedek episode may very well mark the beginning of this development.  Thus already Wellhausen, Composition, : “Aber die Zehntenabgabe Abrahams an Salem ist doch gewiss analog zu beurteilen, wie die Zehntenabgabe Jakobs an Bethel; wie Jakob dort [sc. in Gen :] den an den Reichstempel von Bethel steuernden Israeliten das Vorbild giebt, so Abraham hier den an das salomonische Heiligtum steuernden Judäern. Melchisedek, der Vorgänger Adonisedeks Jos. ,, ist König und Priester des höchsten Gottes zu Jerusalem; wo nicht, so hat das Zehnten Abrahams überhaupt keinen Sinn.” From a redaction critical point of view, it is interesting to note that the reference to the tithe in Gen : seems to represent a fairy late addition as well (see Levin, Jahwist, ).  The syntax of the verse is ambiguous. As the text indicates no change of subject, some scholars claim that it is in fact Melchizedek who offers the tithe to Abram and not vice-versa; see Böhl, “Die Könige von Genesis ,” ; Granerød, Abraham,  – . Yet, despite these objections, it is much more likely that Abram is the implied subject. What precisely is meant by giving

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to Melchizedek, after which only nine tenths remain to be divided among the Canaanites.⁷⁵ The problem of this reading of the text is that it is not consistent with biblical law. The late priestly chapter Num 31 extensively deals with the division of booty and the provisions for both priests and Levites. However, the ratio of distribution is far more complicated and the term ‫‘( מעשׂר‬tithe’) never occurs. In contrast to this, there are several other passages, which elaborate on the tithe as a tribute for the priests and/or the Levites that is to be collected at the sanctuary.⁷⁶ However, all of these texts agree that the tithe shall be given from the produce of the land, not from spoils of war. In the light of the legal material, there are two possible ways to account for the differing concept of tithes expressed in Gen 14:20b: Either the author has created a modified version of the elsewhere attested law by claiming that, henceforth, the tenth part should be given from spoils of war as well. Or he has simply used the given narrative framework of Gen 14* in order to create an etiology for the law of tithing, which he nevertheless wished to be understood in its traditional manner outlined in the biblical legal corpora. In other words, when Abram gave the tenth part of the plunder to Melchizedek, he acted in accordance with his specific situation, while his Israelite descendants should follow his example by doing what is appropriate for them as inhabitants of the land, namely giving the tenth part of their crops. Although I would strongly suggest that this latter option is the one implied by the author of Gen 14:18 – 20, the text as it stands remains ambiguous. This ambiguity is further reflected in the early rewritings of Gen 14 where the Melchizedek episode (as well as the chapter as a whole) has received varied interpretations. By emphasizing or specifying certain aspects of the narrative, while at the same time revising others, the rewritten versions are determined by the same exegetical dynamics, which have already proven to be the driving force behind the literary development of the ‘biblical’ source text. In a way, they may thus be per-

the tithe “of all” only becomes clear against the background of Gen : where Abram returns with “all the property” taken by the invaders. Finally, one should not overlook the fact that, throughout the early reception history of the text, Melchizedek is seen as the one who receives the tithe (cf. Jub :; QapGen XXII ; Heb :; A.J. I ).  See already Jacob, Das Buch Genesis, : “Dem eben geschilderten Vorgang hat der König von Sodom sicherlich mit Unbehagen beigewohnt. Der schlaue Priester hat ihm mit seinem salbungsvollen Segen, der nichts anderes als eine verblümte Bitte um Bakschisch ist, einen Streich gespielt. Die Verschenkung des Zehnten geht auf seine Kosten, denn es war sein Eigentum gewesen, was Abraham zurückbringt.”  Cf. Lev : – ; Num : – ; Deut : – ;  Chr : – ; Neh : – .

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ceived as the direct continuation of its redaction history. In order to illustrate this point, I will briefly discuss two different examples in the following section.

IV. The Reception of Gen 14 in the Book of Jubilees and the Genesis Apocryphon Compared to its Vorlage in Gen 14, the rendition of the events in Jub 13 is much briefer.⁷⁷ The focus of the author is clearly on the final part of the chapter (14:17– 24), while the lengthy account from Gen 14:1– 16 is reduced to a few sentences. In this way, many of the tensions resulting from the complex redaction history of the biblical text are avoided. Ignoring altogether the lord/vassal relationship between Chedorlaomer and his allies on the one hand and the five Palestinian kings on the other hand, Jub 13:22 condenses the events from Gen 14:1, 5, 10 into a single episode: the eastern kings appear and vanquish their enemies. However, only the king of Gomorrah is killed, while the king of Sodom manages to escape. Jub 13:22 thus circumvents the contradiction of the biblical text where, although both kings apparently die in the bitumen pits (14:10a S), the king of Sodom nevertheless reappears (14:17 II) to negotiate the division of the plunder. The continuation of the account (Jub 13:23 – 25), with the victorious army taking Lot as a prisoner and marching off with the plunder, while Abram takes on the chase, is basically in accord with Gen 14:11– 14. By any chance the most significant of the minor changes made by the author of Jub is the omission of Abram’s allies Aner, Eshcol and Mamre. Although the three allies are briefly referred to at the end of the negotiations with the king of Sodom (Jub 13:29, cf. Gen 14:24), their importance is obviously played down. Most notably, the author of Jub completely ignores that they are Amorites, just like he dismisses Abram’s designation as a Hebrew. Apparently, the notion of an alliance between the patriarch and the inhabitants of the land was no longer acceptable. While the relations between Abram and the three men are thus deliberately kept in suspense, the portrayal of his encounter with the king of Sodom in 13:28 is indicative of a new and more precise definition of the hierarchy. In contrast to Gen 14:17 (II) where the king of Sodom acts like the sovereign by harshly demanding that Abram return the captives, he now subjugates himself and only very politely articulates his plea:

 For a detailed comparison of the two accounts, see the synoptic overview in van Ruiten, Abraham in the Book of Jubilees,  – .

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13:28

When the king of Sodom came up to him, he knelt before him and said: ‘Our lord Abram, kindly give us the people whom you rescued, but their booty is to be yours.’

To sum up, with his brief rendition of Abram’s campaign and the successive distribution of the plunder, the author of Jub achieves two things: On the one hand, he takes account of the increasing emphasis on Abram’s position as the overlord, while on the other hand he omits the notion that this role is essentially defined by Abram’s coalition with the Amorites. While the implications of the respective layer of Gen 14 (IV) are thus partly revoked, the reproduction of the Melchizedek episode (V) in Jub 13:25b–27 seems to be completely in line with the ‘biblical’ text.⁷⁸ Moreover, one can also observe that the ambiguous wording from Gen 14:21b (“and he gave him one tenth of everything”) now receives a definite interpretation: 13:25b

[Upon returning he took a tithe of everything and gave it to Melchizedek. This tithe was] for Abram and his descendants the tithe of the firstfruits for the Lord. The Lord made it an eternal ordinance that they should give it to the priests who serve before him for them to possess it forever. 26 This law has no temporal limit because he has ordained it for the history of eternity to give a tenth of everything to the Lord—of seed, the vine, oil, cattle, and sheep. 27 He has given (it) to his priests to eat and drink joyfully before him.

Jubilees leaves no doubt that the tithe given by Abram to Melchizedek reflects an eternal law according to which a tithe of all first fruits is to be given to the priests.⁷⁹ The rewritten version of Gen 14 in Jub thus confirms a reading of its source text which was perhaps always the more likely, yet not the only possible one.⁸⁰ Moreover, the author of Jub is the first to establish an explicit connection between Abram’s deed and the legal stipulations which follow from it. The actions of the patriarch are portrayed as a foundational event, which constitutes a certain legal practice. This etiological utilization of history is not only attested to here, but in fact proves a key element of Jub, which deemphasizes the significance of the Sinaitic revelation of the Law. However, the respective concept should not go unchallenged. As James Kugel has shown convincingly, the first edition of Jub has been expanded by the hand of a later interpolator. This author repeatedly claims that the laws do in fact represent eternal ordinances, which had been written on the Heavenly  Unfortunately, there is a lacuna in the respective part of the Ethiopic text which is most likely due to an early scribal error. See the detailed discussion in VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees,  – , whose reconstruction I follow.  See van Ruiten, Abraham in the Book of Jubilees, .  Cf. above, section ..

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Tablets long before they were first observed by the patriarchs.⁸¹ In this way, the character of divine revelation is again emphasized. According to Kugel, the hand of the interpolator is also discernible in Jub 13:26 – 27.⁸² As a result, Jubilee’s version of the Melchizedek episode would reflect not only one, but two different stages in the interpretation of Gen 14. While the original author clarified that Abram’s tithe constitutes the practice of giving the tenth part of the first fruits, only the interpolator declared this custom an eternal law ordained by Yhwh. In comparison to Jub 13, the rendering of Gen 14 in the Genesis Apocryphon shows an opposite tendency. While Jub 13 provides a considerably abridged version of the account in Gen 14 (with the sole exception of the Melchizedek episode), in the Genesis Apocryphon the biblical episodes are narrated more elaborately.⁸³ In this way, though, the author of the Genesis Apocryphon not only follows his general interest in fleshing out the details, but he also manages to solve the most aggravating tensions resulting from the literary development of the source text. For instance, the obvious doublet between Gen 14:3 (III) and 14:8b (S) is solved in a remarkable way: In 1QapGen XXI 23 – 26, Gen 14:3 is interpreted as a reference to a previous military confrontation at the Valley of Siddim, in the course of which the kings from Palestine are defeated and become tributary to Chedorlaomer.⁸⁴ Their rebellion after thirteen years then necessitates a penal expedition of the eastern alliance, which culminates in a second battle at the same site (1QapGen XXI 27– 32; cf. Gen 14:4– 9). Just like in Jub 13:22, the outcome of the events described in Gen 14:10 is again modified to fit better the continuation of the narrative: only the king of Gomorrah falls into the bitumen pits, while the king of Sodom manages to escape (1QapGen XXI 32– 33) so he can later reappear for his negotiations with Abram. In keeping with the sequence of Gen 14, these negotiations are reported after the encounter with Melchizedek. However, in contrast to the biblical text, where

 See Kugel, A Walk through Jubilees,  – . Differently van Ruiten, Abraham in the Book of Jubilees, .  See Kugel, A Walk through Jubilees, . In fact, Kugel seems to claim that already the reference to the eternal commandment in Jub : is the work of the interpolator, who has thus supplanted “the original author’s account of the primordial, first tithe in history.” This is certainly conceivable. Yet, one should also consider an alternative explanation. It is possible that the original account concluded with “the tithe of the firstfruits before the Lord” in :b*, with the last sentence of the verse as well as the text in : –  representing the work of the interpolator. In this case, one would avoid the somewhat unfortunate assumption that the original text is only partly preserved.  For a detailed comparison of the two accounts, see the synoptic overview in van Ruiten, Abraham in the Book of Jubilees,  – .  See van Ruiten, Abraham in the Book of Jubilees, .

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the original narrative thread from the appearance of the king of Sodom in 14:17 to his speech in 14:21 (II) is interrupted abruptly by the Melchizedek episode (V), the author of the Genesis Apocryphon provides a much smoother text: By claiming that the king of Sodom came to the Valley of Salem, while Abram was encamped in the (neighboring) Valley of Shaveh (XXII 12– 14), he creates a situation of geographical proximity which, at the same time, leaves room for the temporary appearance of Melchizedek.⁸⁵ The rendering of the Melchizedek episode (Gen 14:18– 20) in 1QapGen XXII 14– 17 is characterized by two significant changes. First, Melchizedek no longer brings out bread and wine (Gen 14:18), but “food and drink (‫ )מאכל ומשתה‬for Abram and all the men who were with him” (XXII 14– 15). Thus, the focus of the text shifts from a private (sacrificial?) meal to Melchizedek provisioning Abram’s troops.⁸⁶ As the latter motif is evidently inspired by the negotiations with the king of Sodom (Gen 14:24), one may conclude that the author of the Genesis Apocryphon wanted to give Melchizedek an explicit place in Abram’s network of coalitions. When provisioning Abram’s troops, his primary role is no longer that of a priest, but that of an ally providing military aid. However, this new focus on Melchizedek as a political figure does not imply that the priestly aspects of his character are generally deemphasized or even criticized.⁸⁷ After all, the author of the Genesis Apocryphon is in complete agreement with Gen 14 when introducing Melchizedek as “a priest of God Most High”, who blesses Abram and, in response, receives the tithe. It is in regard to the details of this tribute that the author has significantly changed his source text. While Gen 14:20 implies that Abram gives the tenth part of all the property of Sodom and Gomorrah, 1QapGen XXII 17 explicitly states that the tithe was “from all the goods of the king of Elam and his confederates.”⁸⁸ By adding the property of the eastern alliance to the plunder (cf. XXII 11), the author found a way to avoid the somewhat problematic notion that Abram gave a tithe from goods, which he deemed unsuitable to keep for himself (Gen 14:23 – 24). At the  See Fitzmyer, Genesis Apocryphon, : “As in Gen : – , the story of the meeting of Abram with the king of Sodom is interrupted by the introduction of the tale about Melchizedek. The author of this text, however, smoothes over the abruptness of the biblical text, by bringing the king of Sodom to Salem.”  Cf. van Ruiten, Abraham in the Book of Jubilees, .  See Fitzmyer, Genesis Apocryphon, .  As an Aramaic rendering of the Hebrew ‫רכוש‬, the author employs the term ‫נכסין‬, which carries a slightly wider semantic range. Besides denoting material property in general, the term may also serve as a specific designation for flocks (cf. QapGen XXI ). Yet the context in QapGen XXII  strongly suggests that in this particular case ‫ נכסין‬is used with a broader meaning corresponding to ‫ ;רכוש‬see Fitzmyer, Genesis Apocryphon, .

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same time, the motif also serves to reduce the economic consequences of Abram’s magnanimous renunciation of Sodom’s belongings: giving one tenth of the property of the eastern kings to Melchizedek implies that the major part of it remained in Abram’s possession. With a certain right one might therefore say that the Genesis Apocryphon enforces again the perspective of the earliest version of Gen 14 (I), however, with the decisive difference, that Abram now draws profit from an acceptable source. On the other hand, the reservations concerning the property of the king of Sodom seem to have increased. While the proposal of the king of Sodom (except for the subservient address “My lord Abram” reminiscent of Jub 13:28) and Abram’s response widely follow the biblical Vorlage from Gen 14:21– 24, the author has added a few sentences of his own, which clarify two points. Firstly, Abram no longer states that his three companions will keep their share (Gen 14:24),⁸⁹ but explicitly leaves the choice to them: “They are sovereign over their own portion, and can restore it to you or not” (1QapGen XXII 14). Most tellingly, the alternative is not between keeping and restoring, but between restoring and not restoring. This implies the barely concealed advice that, although the companions are certainly free to choose, they should better follow Abram’s example. Even for them, keeping the property of the king of Sodom is not a serious option anymore. In order to remove the slightest doubt that Abram himself might not have carried out his vow, the author of the Genesis Apocryphon concludes with the assertion that “Abram returned all the goods and all the captives and gave them to the king of Sodom” (XXII 24– 25). As an afterthought, he adds that the captives, which had been taken by the eastern alliance from among other natives of the land, were set free by Abram (XXII 25 – 26). In this way, the author excludes the last possible option for Abram to enrich himself at the expense of the inhabitants of the land, which at the same time serves as a final example for the patriarch’s nobility.

 Although the text fails to mention that the three men are Amorites (cf. Jub :, ), this aspect is not generally suppressed. On the contrary, the brief note according to which Abram built an altar (Gen :b) is considerably expanded in QapGen XXI  – , where the author describes a sacrificial meal which, upon invitation, is joined by “the three Amorite brothers” (‫)תלתת אחיא אמוראא‬, Abram’s friends (‫)רחמי‬. Interestingly, however, the text fails to mention the existence of a covenantal relationship (Gen :). This might imply an adjustment to the respective prohibition from Deut :.

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V. General Conclusions While the portrayal of the events in Gen 14 is strongly influenced by various source texts from the Enneateuchal narrative, there is a striking abscence of biblical war legislation, which is (at least in part) due to the patriarchal setting of the narrative. For the time of Abram, the Hebrew, the stipulations concerning the conduct of warfare in the days of his Israelite descendants were not perceived as necessarily binding. However, this does in no way imply that the account in Gen 14 shows no traces of legal traditions. Quite to the contrary, one cannot fail to notice that in the course of the chapter’s literary development there has been a steadily growing influence of legal concepts, which originate in the context of ANE vassal treaties. Through their adaptation to the narrative setting of Gen 14, these concepts are now used to define the patriarch’s position in an increasingly complex network of regional and international coalitions. However, this major thematic focus of the chapter should receive one last decisive change by the hands of the late priestly author of the Melchizedek episode (Gen 14:18 – 20). Now the passage devoted to the distribution of the plunder (Gen 14:17, 21– 24) is used to introduce an Abrahamitic etiology for the law of tithing. In sum, the redaction history of Gen 14 testifies to a highly creative and dynamic process of literary transformations, which continues smoothly in the chapter’s early rewritten versions (Jub 13; 1QapGen XXI 23 – XXII 26).

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Appendix: The Literary Development of Gen 14⁹⁰

 On the different editorial layers of the text see the detailed redaction critical analysis in section II. Potential minor glosses are set in brackets.

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Appendix: The Literary Development of Gen 14

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Bibliography Berner, Christoph. “Hebrew/Hebrews.” In The Encyclopedia of the Bible and its Reception. Berlin / Boston: de Gruyter, forthcoming. Blum, Erhard. Die Komposition der Vätergeschichte. WMANT 57. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1984. Böhl, Franz M. T. “Die Könige von Genesis 14.” ZAW 32 (1916): 65 – 73. Buber, Martin / Rosenzweig, Franz. Das Buch Im Anfang. Vol. 1 of Die fünf Bücher der Weisung. 10th edn. Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1992. Carr, David M. Reading the Fractures of Genesis: Historical and Literary Approaches. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1996. Dillmann, August. Die Genesis. KEH 11. 6th edn. Leipzig: Hirzel, 1892. Ede, Franziska. Die Josefsgeschichte: Literarkritische und redaktionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zur Entstehung von Gen 37 – 50. BZAW 485. Berlin / Boston: de Gruyter, forthcoming (2016). Ehrlich, Arnold B. Genesis und Exodus. Vol. 1 of Randglossen zur Hebräischen Bibel: Textkritisches, Sprachliches und Sachliches. Hildesheim: Georg Olms Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1968. Emerton, John A. “The Riddle of Genesis XIV.” VT 21 (1971): 403 – 39. Fitzmyer, Joseph A. The Genesis Apocryphon of Qumran Cave 1 (1Q20): A Commentary. Biblia et Orientalia 18B. 3rd edn. Rome: Editrice Pontificio Istituto Biblico, 2004. Granerød, Gard. Abraham and Melchizedek: Scribal Activity of Second Temple Times in Genesis 14 and Psalm 110. BZAW 406. Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 2010. Gunkel, Hermann. Genesis. HK I/1. 9th edn. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1977.

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Jacob, Benno. Das Buch Genesis. Stuttgart: Calwer Verlag, 2000. Kratz, Reinhard G. The Composition of the Narrative Books of the Old Testament. London / New York: T&T Clark, 2005. —. “Friend of God, Brother of Sarah, and Father of Isaac: Abraham in the Hebrew Bible and in Qumran.” In The Dynamics of Language and Exegesis at Qumran, edited by Devorah Dimant / idem, 79 – 105. FAT II/35. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009. Kugel, James L. A Walk through Jubilees: Studies in the Book of Jubilees and the World of its Creation. JSJ.S 156. Leiden / Boston: Brill, 2012. Levin, Christoph. Der Jahwist. FRLANT 157. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1993. Machiela, Daniel A. The Dead Sea Genesis Apocryphon: A New Text and Translation with Introduction and Special Treatment of Columns 13 – 17. StTDJ 79. Leiden / Boston: Brill, 2009. Morschauser, Scott. “Campaigning on Less Than a Shoe-String: An Ancient Egyptian Parallel to Abram’s ‘Oath’ in Genesis 14.22−23.” JSOT 38 (2013): 127 – 44. Muffs, Yochanan. “Abraham the Noble Warrior: Patriarchal Politics and Laws of War in Ancient Israel.” JSJ 33 (1982): 81 – 108. Nougayrol, Jean. Textes Accadiens des Archives Sud. Vol. 4 of Le Palais Royal d’Ugarit. Mission de Ras Shamra 6,1. Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1956. Porten, Bezalel / Yardeni, Ada. Contracts. Vol. 2 of Textbook of Aramaic Documents from Ancient Egypt. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1989. Procksch, Otto. Die Genesis. KAT 1. 2nd / 3rd edn. Leipzig: Deichert, 1924. Ruppert, Lothar. “Abraham und die Ostkönige (Gen 14).” In Festschrift für Burkhart Kienast zu seinem 70. Geburtstage, dargebracht von Freunden, Schülern und Kollegen, edited by Gebhart J. Selz, 423 – 46. AOAT 274. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2003. Schatz, Werner. Genesis 14: Eine Untersuchung. EHS.T 2. Bern u. a.: Lang, 1972. Schubert, Friedemann. “ʾEl ʿÆljôn als Gottesname im Jubiläenbuch.” FJMB 8 (1994): 3 – 18. Segal, Michael. The Book of Jubilees: Rewritten Bible, Redaction, Ideology, and Theology. JSJ.S 117. Leiden / Boston: Brill, 2007. Skinner, John. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Genesis. ICC. 2nd edn. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1951. Speiser, Ephraim A. “A Figurative Element for Totality in Akkadian and West-Semitic.” JAOS 54 (1934): 200 – 3. —. Genesis. AB. New York: Doubleday, 1964. VanderKam, James C. The Book of Jubilees. CSCO 511. Leuven: Peeters, 1989. van Ruiten, Jacques. Abraham in the Book of Jubilees: The Rewriting of Genesis 11:26 – 25:10 in the Book of Jubilees 11:14 – 23:8. JSJ.S 161. Leiden / Boston: Brill, 2012. Van Seters, John. Abraham in History and Tradition. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1975. Vielhauer, Roman. “Sodom and Gomorrah: From the Bible to Qumran.” In Rewriting and Interpreting the Hebrew Bible: The Biblical Patriarchs in the Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls, edited by Devorah Dimant / Reinhard G. Kratz, 147 – 69. BZAW 439. Berlin / Boston: de Gruyter, 2013. von Rad, Gerhard. Das erste Buch Mose: Genesis. ATD 2/4. 5th edn. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1958. Weidner, Ernst F. Politische Dokumente aus Kleinasien: Die Staatsverträge in akkadischer Sprache aus dem Archiv von Boghazköi. Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1923.

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Wellhausen, Julius. Die Composition des Hexateuch und der historischen Bücher des Alten Testaments. 4th edn. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1963. Westermann, Claus. Genesis 12 – 36. BKAT 1/2. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1981. Zahn, Molly M. Rethinking Rewritten Scripture: Composition and Exegesis in the 4QReworked Pentateuch Manuscripts. StTDJ 95. Leiden / Boston: Brill, 2011. Ziemer, Benjamin. Abram – Abraham: Kompositionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zu Genesis 14, 15 und 17. BZAW 350. Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 2005. Zimmerli, Walther. 1. Mose 12 – 25: Abraham. ZBK.AT 1.2. Zürich: Theologischer Verlag Zürich, 1976.

Wolfgang Oswald (Eberhard-Karls-Universität Tübingen)

Defeating Amalek, Defending the Constitution: The Political Theory of Ex 17:8 – 16 I. Some reminders from the history of research When dealing with biblical war narratives, it seems reasonable to include the episode Exod 17:8 – 16 which is commonly referred to as the “Battle against Amalek.” And indeed, the story begins in v. 8 with the sudden statement that Amalek came and fought against Israel. But in the following the focus of the narrative shifts to the internal organizational measures taken by Moses and his collaborators in order to retaliate the attack. The fight as such is only foregrounded again when it is over, in v. 13: “So Joshua overwhelmed Amalek and his people with the edge of the sword.” The concluding part of the story deals with the way of commemorating the event. When considering the specific outline of the story serious doubts arise whether this episode is really about that battle. Already Martin Noth in his commentary on Exodus pointed to a different direction, saying: “Ein Kampf Israels mit den Amalekitern bildet den Hintergrund der Erzählung, die offenbar hinaus will auf den von Mose erbauten und mit Namen benannten Altar.”¹ If Martin Noth is right—and I think he is—then the episode is not about the battle, but rather about the way Israel first manages and then remembers the threat. Noth was of the opinion that the altar served as an assembly point during the fightings against Amalek in the early premonarchic period,² and therefore the story was transmitted. It is obvious how this view is based on the paradigms of an earlier period of the history of research. I do not want to elaborate on the history of research in its entirety, but I found Noth’s commentary worth mentioning because he, even though under different assumptions, recognized the meaningful shift of focus from the battle to something else. Many commentators interpret the story as a paradigm, since it is the first time in the course of the Pentateuchal narrative that Israel has to wage war, and it is likewise the first time that writing, i. e. literacy, occurs in the biblical

 Noth, Exodus, .  Noth, Exodus, .

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story of Israel. For William Propp here we encounter “Israel’s prototypical ‘Holy War’ (cf. Deut 25:17– 19; 1 Samuel 15)—that is, a military action sanctioned by Yahweh …”³ Similarly, Carol Meyers speaks of the “prototypical military victory.”⁴ For Thomas Dozeman the “defeat of the Amalekites demonstrates the presence of Yahweh in the midst of the Israelites.”⁵ And Rainer Albertz in his recent commentary holds the view that Exod 17:8 – 16 shows in a paradigmatic way how Israel can react against militant enemies: not passive mentality of entitlement but active averting of danger.⁶ There is some truth in these interpretations, but there is still more to say about the odd shift of emphasis in the story. Hans-Christoph Schmitt in an article from 1990 provides a very distinct explanation of our story which he labels as “theologische Lehrerzählung.”⁷ He recognizes strong parallels to deuteronomistic texts, especially to 1 Sam 7, which he considers to be from the hand of the author of the DtrH,⁸ and right so in my view. Here it is Samuel who prays to Yahweh, the God of Israel, and this brings about Israel’s victory over the Philistines. In order to make the parallel strong, Schmitt interprets the gesture of Moses in Exod 17:11 as prayer and not as magic like other commentators do.⁹ This is a difficult question but Schmitt rightly says that the similarity of both texts does not solely rely on this aspect. In order to stress the deuteronomistic provenance of the Amalekites episode Schmitt adverts to the fact that Joshua’s role as a military leader in the DtrH is presupposed here.¹⁰ According to Schmitt the aim of the didactic narrative is to convey the “Vertrauen in die Macht des unablässigen Betens.”¹¹ I do not agree on that, first, because it is not clear whether Moses is really praying in the scene, and second, because praying—if it is praying what he does—is obviously not enough according to the narrative. But Schmitt is right in my opinion when he finds the starting point of the story in the experience of military and political weakness in exilic and postexilic times.¹² This coincides with the above mentioned connections to dtr texts. I will return to that later.

 Propp, Exodus  – , .  Meyers, Exodus, .  Dozeman, Exodus, .  Albertz, Exodus, .  Schmitt, “Lehrerzählung”.  Schmitt, “Lehrerzählung,” .  Schmitt, “Lehrerzählung,” .  Schmitt, “Lehrerzählung,” .  Schmitt, “Lehrerzählung,” .  Schmitt, “Lehrerzählung,” .

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II. A political interpretation Schmitt’s analysis is illuminating, but still many pecularities of the text are not yet explained. In this respect, the study of Geoffrey Miller broke new ground. In his article “J as Constitutionalist”, he says: “The text, moreover, shows extraordinary attention to details that have little obvious meaning in terms of the ostensible plot: the staff of Moses is mentioned as an important element of the story when Moses ascends the hill but is dropped out of the action thereafter, the stone that Aaron and Hur obtain as a seat for Moses, and the hands of Moses that are supported by Aaron and Hur, one on each side. These elements are evidently important in the structure of this narrative, yet their significance is not adequately explained.”¹³

None of these observations are new but Miller does not settle for merely retelling the story. Rather he asks why the scene on the hill is foregrounded and why these oddities gain so much preponderance. He concludes: “The entire story, moreover, has a stilted and unnatural quality, which is decidedly uncharacteristic of the J source generally. The possibility that we are dealing here with a complex of linked symbols thus suggests itself.”¹⁴

I leave aside the notion of a “J source” which is an erratic element in an otherwise brilliant essay. Important is Miller’s assumption that the episode is to be seen as a “complex of linked symbols”. Therefore it is necessary “to establish a correspondence between the explicit elements of the text and some other system of objects and relationships.”¹⁵ And this “other system of objects” is the political structure of Israel. In the same line of reasoning Christoph Berner has stated in a recent article: “Das hochgradig Konstruierte der ganzen Szene zeigt, dass mit der Erzählung von der Amalekiterschlacht ein weiterer später Metatext vorliegt …”¹⁶ According to Berner it is necessary to translate “die Personenkonstellation in einen institutionellen Bezugsrahmen.”¹⁷ Let us return to Miller. In the main section of his article he proposes a number of links or equations beginning with Moses of whom he says: “The figure of

    

Miller, “Constitutionalist,” . Miller, “Constitutionalist,” . Miller, “Constitutionalist,” . Berner, “Wasserwunder,” . Berner, “Wasserwunder,” .

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Moses can be linked with that of the king”¹⁸. Josua as military leader “stands for the organized military within the power structure of the Israelite state,”¹⁹ whereas “Aaron represents the priesthood throughout the biblical traditions, and there is no reason to suppose that he should occupy any different role here.”²⁰ Further, “the Amalekites are enlisted in the narrative as the prototypical enemy.”²¹ The notoriously difficult figure of Hur is identified by inference: “If we examine the power structure of ancient Israel, the figure of Hur would appear to represent the bureaucracy of the royal court.”²² So far the personage, but Miller proceeds with the requisites: “The hill, in this picture, represents Jerusalem, the city built on the hill and the site from which the Israelite kings exercised their power. The stone that Aaron and Hur place beneath Moses is the throne, the seat of the king. The altar that Moses builds (evidently on the hill) corresponds to the temple built by Solomon in Jerusalem. […] The rod might be seen as simply a magician’s wand, but it is clearly more than that. It symbolizes political, and specifically royal, authority.”²³

And finally, “the hand, being a natural part of the king’s body, represents the natural, raw power of the state.”²⁴ Miller summarizes the message of the story, read as a political statement: “The text tells us that military operations will succeed only if the king is actively engaged in the conduct of government. By implication, also, the text asserts that however successful the battlefield commander may be, credit for the ultimate victory must go to the king.”²⁵

III. Intermediate reflection on two hermeneutical issues Before engaging in a discussion of Miller’s assertions and bringing forward my own interpretation it seems helpful to pause for a moment and think about two hermeneutical issues.

       

Miller, Miller, Miller, Miller, Miller, Miller, Miller, Miller,

“Constitutionalist,” “Constitutionalist,” “Constitutionalist,” “Constitutionalist,” “Constitutionalist,” “Constitutionalist,” “Constitutionalist,” “Constitutionalist,”

. . . . . . . .

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First, what are we doing when we “establish a correspondence between the explicit elements of the text and some other system of objects and relationships”²⁶, as Miller has put it? The answer may be somewhat disturbing, but this is exactly what happens in an allegorical interpretation. So, do we have to be afraid that Miller is going bring us back to Origenes or to the Middle Ages and to the theory of the fourfold sense of Scripture? The ancient theory was that the sensus litteralis of a text is equal to the sensus historicus, whereas the sensus spiritualis may be construed as typological, ethical or eschatological. If this would be true, Miller’s exegesis must indeed be called allegorical. But luckily it is not true, because in biblical texts the sensus litteralis is never the sensus historicus. This is the fundamental error of the theory of the fourfold sense of Scripture, an error which even in modern times still abides. I do not know of any biblical text that primarily wants to report past events in a historical manner. And certainly, Exod 17:8 – 16 does not have this intention. As Hans-Christoph Schmitt has put it: “Somit zeigt sich auch an Ex 17,8 – 16, daß alttestamentliche Geschichtsüberlieferung kein primär antiquarisches Interesse besitzt.”²⁷ But what is the actual sensus litteralis of our episode? If Miller is right—and I think he is—it is the sensus politicus. That means, Miller does not provide an allegorical interpretation of a historical text, but rather a historical interpretation of an allegorical text. And I think, this is the line of interpretation we are to follow. If the pecularities of a certain text lead the interpreter to conclude that the ancient author wanted his audience to perceive a second meaning, then it is the task of the interpretation to explicate this second meaning, which of course is the actual one. Second, is it appropriate to understand a biblical text as a political text? Modern European exegetes are accustomed to classify biblical texts as religious. It is commonly assumed, that because Christianity is a religion and because these texts are part of the Christian canon they must be religious texts. But this is a wrong conclusion. Today’s comprehension and usage of the biblical texts cannot determine its original intention and “Sitz im Leben”. Pentateuchal texts deal with the organization of the body politic and the public cult, they deal with the struggle for liberation from the Pharaonic rule, and with laws and offices, and so on. So it seems appropriate to acknowledge the political dimension of these texts.

 Miller, “Constitutionalist,” .  Schmitt, “Lehrerzählung,” .

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IV. A new attempt of a political interpretation Before embarking on my own interpretation, let me say a few words about the literary integrity of the episode. There is one big problem, the rod of Moses, that is mentioned in v. 9bβ. The rod is never used and plays no role whatsoever in the story. This is in striking contrast to the preceding episode (Exod 17:1– 7) where the rod is the main requisite, with which Moses hits the rock. So, it seems resonable to view the rod in 17:9bβ as a secondary insertion in order to adjust the two stories.²⁸ Consequently, the singular references to the hand of Moses in 17:11 MT should be emendated to plural as in 17:12 following the Samaritanus and the versions. There is also a discussion if the name of the location, Refidim, has been added later in v. 8.²⁹ Most probably it is nothing but a pun with the word ‫רפד‬ meaning “to support” thus referring to the supporters of Moses, or a pun with the word ‫ רפה‬meaning “to slack, to lose courage,” thus referring to the sinking hands of Moses. Anyway, these diachronic issues do not critically affect the following argument. But now to the interpretation of the episode. I agree with Miller that in order to understand the text we have to establish a set of identifications by which the elements of the text are related to elements in the political world of the author and the addressees of the text. The decisive point is to find the correct relations. At first we have to consider the figure of Moses and right here the problems already begin. I do not agree with Miller that Moses stands for the king. On the contrary, Moses is the prototype of the non-kingly leader. Moses is the key figure in the establishment of a non-monarchical society in which the people is subordinated to the law and not to the king. Therefore, Moses may stand for a prophetic leader as in Deut 18:9 – 22 or he may stand for the torah in its deuteronomistic shape. In the political theory of Deuteronomy these two are no excluding alternatives, so we can leave this alternative open. Thus, Moses stands for the deuteronomistic torah and at the same time for a prophetic office based on the deuteronomistic torah. Now, we may carry on with Joshua. I agree with Miller that he stands for the military. But not for a military with professional soldiers and mercenaries as in a monarchy but for a military that consists of the citizens. Amalek may stand ei-

 See Schmitt, “Lehrerzählung,”  – .  See e. g. Schmitt, “Lehrerzählung,” .

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ther as a prototype for any of Israel’s enemies³⁰ or more specifically for Edom, Judah’s archenemy after 597 (cf. Gen 36:12, 16). We leave Aaron and Hur aside for a moment and turn to the hill upon which Moses stands. As many commentators have stated the hill in the Amalekites episode is the same as the one in the preceding story, where it is called “the rock in the waste land” (‫ח ֵרב‬ ֹ ‫ַהצּוּר ְבּ‬, 17:6), and the same as in the succeeding story were it is called “mountain of God” (‫ַהר ָהֱאל ִֹהים‬, 18:5). As I have elaborated elsewhere³¹ the mountain of God where thorn bushes grow (Exod 3:2) or the hill in the wasteland respectively is nothing other than the devastated temple mount of Jerusalem. So there is a partial agreement with Miller. Indeed, the hill refers to Jerusalem, but to the destroyed Jerusalem. Following this logic, the altar erected by Moses would refer to some cultic installation on that hill. But since we are in a postmonarchic scenario, the altar cannot stand for the temple. Rather it stands for a precursor of the second temple. According to Esr 3:1– 7 before the second temple was build there was an altar in use on the temple mount. So far, the scenario is clearly a Babylonian or early Persian period one. Israel is in the desert, that means, the people have to live in a devastated land, on the mountain of God there is only an altar, the center and the fundament of the society is the deuteronomistic torah. Schmitt’s assertion that this text was written in the exilic or postexilic times can be verified. Let us now turn to Aaron and Hur. The two occur in the Amalekites episode and again in Exod 24:14, Aaron alone in the calf story Exod 32. Contrary to the assumption of Geoffrey Miller, in the pre-priestly portions of the Pentateuch Aaron is not a priest and not the brother of Moses. In the calf story Aaron inaugurates the cult, in particular a cultic image and a festival. As can be seen from the parallel story in 1 Kgs 12:26 – 33, such activities are the privilege and the duty of the king, in Israel and elsewhere in the ancient near east. Aaron does what a political leader would do who is responsible for all public affairs, be it cultic or juridic. And indeed, in Exod 24:14 Aaron and Hur are appointed deputies of Moses in civic affairs: Moses says to the elders when he and Joshua are about to leave the camp: “Wait here for us until we return to you. And behold, Aaron and Hur are with you; whoever has a legal matter, let him approach them.” We may trace this thread back to the Amalekites episode, because here, both, Aaron and Hur, are mentioned for the first time. Here they pass their initial

 Houtman, Exodus, .  Utzschneider / Oswald, Exodus  – ,  – .

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test, in that they support Moses in an adequate way. Thus, there is a clear line of development. Initially, Aaron and Hur support Moses, therefore they are later worth being appointed as leaders in absence of Moses. But then, one of these two fails to fulfill his duties, namely Aaron. Hur disappears from the scene which makes it even more difficult to assess what his role is. Perhaps, he just functions as a counterpart to Aaron. Of the two deputies of Moses, only one did fail while the other one did not. If the figures of Aaron and Hur are construed from the three mentioned references, they stand for the political elite, which is responsible for juridic and cultic matters. In the Amalekites episode they act in support of Moses, i. e. they represent a societal elite that acts in accordance with the Mosaic office or with the torah of Moses respectively. Contrary to that, in the calf story one of them, Aaron, fails to fulfill his position in the Mosaic office and disrespects one of the most important stipulations, the prohibition of cultic images. Of course, there is some uncertainty with respect to Aaron and Hur. Both, Miller and Berner,³² equate Aaron with the priesthood, in case of Miller the priesthood of the first temple, in case of Berner the priesthood of the second temple. But both interpretations refer to the priesthood as an important social and political factor, so the difference between my suggestion and their’s is not that big. So let me again paraphrase the episode on its alleged level of symbolic meaning: The desert is the devastated land of Judah, the hill is the desolate temple mount in Jerusalem, the altar is the provisional installation that was erected before the rebuilding of the temple. The Israel of the narrative is the body politic of early Persian period Judah, Amalek is the paradigmatic enemy of the time, probably Edom. This vulnerable community can survive under these dire straits if and only if they rely on the torah of Moses or if they accept the prophetic successor of Moses (comp. Josh 23:6 – 8). All officeholders, be it a civic, a military, or a cultic office, are obliged to act in accordance with Moses. Advocating this idea, rather than celebrating a primeval victory, the episode Exod 17:8 – 16 intends to strengthen the political system of its own time, and that is the constitution as it is defined in the book of Deuteronomy. Deuteronomy introduces the separation of powers: there are judges and officers, there are priests and one prophet, there are military commanders and even an optional king. But the whole system does not work if each officeholder merely works for himself. The system of offices as laid out in Deuteronomy needs a gravitational center, and this is Moses, be it the torah of Moses or some kind of

 Miller, “Constitutionalist,” ; Berner, “Wasserwunder,” .

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Mosaic office. In a monarchic society such a center is self-evident, it is the king, whereas in ancient Greek societies which were traditionally without king it is likewise self-evident the law. Just as Demarathos, the Spartian, says to the Persian king Xerxes about his fellow countrymen: “For law is their master, whom they fear much more than your men fear you” (Hdt. 7,104,4). For Judeans it was not traditional to submit themselves to a written law, and it was not before the downfall of the monarchy that they began to do so.³³ The story Exod 17:8 – 16 provides motivation to adhere to the Mosaic torah. If the leaders act according to this principle, Israel will succeed on its way, even in a still ruined land, even without a proper temple.

V. The relation of Exod 17:8 – 16 to Deut 25:17 – 19 The encounter between Israel and Amalek in the course of the exodus is mentioned four times in the Hebrew Bible (Exod 17:8 – 16, Num 14:40 – 45, Deut 25:17– 19, 1 Sam 15:2). Whereas Num 14:40 – 45 tells a quite different story and 1 Sam 15:2 is only a vague hint at the incident, the relation of Exod 17:8 – 16 to Deut 25:17– 19 is much closer, since Exod 17:14b “I will utterly blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven” has an almost literal counterpart in Deut 25:19aβ “You shall blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven.” Nevertheless, despite the parallel in wording the overall assessment of the Amalek incident is very different in the two passages. In Exod 17:8 – 16 there is no mention of a perfidious attack from behind and Israel is not depicted as weak and vulnerable, which on the contrary is the crucial point in Deut 25:18. Furthermore, the outcome of the encounter with Amalek as related in Exod 17:8 – 16 is positive for Israel, whereas according to Deut 25:17– 19 Israel was seriously damaged and not at all able to strike back successfully. These differences do not pertain to details but to the overall evaluation of the case. Thus, the two references cannot stem from the same author. The depiction of Israel in Deut 25:18 as being weak and vulnerable during the exodus and the subsequent wandering in the wilderness is remarkable, since elsewhere in Deuteronomy and in the dtr literature it is different. In Deut 2:7b Moses says: “These forty years Yahweh your God has been with you, you have lacked nothing.” In the following Israel is able to defeat the kings  See Oswald, “Gesetz”.

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Sihon of Heshbon and Og of Bashan. In Josh 2:9b Rahab says: “All the inhabitants of the land melt in fear before you.” One may also think of the way Deut 26:8 – 9 relates the events. In the dtr literature the migrating Israel is strong and daunting with the exception of the spy story (Deut 1:19 – 46). But in the latter the weakness of Israel is its own fault and therefore not comparable to the situation in Deut 25:17– 19. On the other hand we have a few instances outside the book of Deuteronomy in which the exiting Israel is portrayed as weak and fraught with problems similar to Deut 25:18. This is the case in Exod 18:8 – 12, where we read: “Then Moses told his father-in-law all that Yahweh had done to Pharaoh and to the Egyptians for Israel’s sake, all the hardship that had beset them on the way, and how Yahweh had delivered them” (18:8). In another episode, Moses similarly reports to the king of Edom: “You know all the hardship that has befallen us” (Num 20:14b). Therefore, Exod 17:8 – 16 with its image of an victorious Israel conforms well with the overall picture of Israel in the dtr literature. Likewise, the characterizations of Joshua as military and Aaron as civil leaders with Moses as the big chief are in accordance with Deuteronomy and its cognate literature. Therefore it may be sound to attribute Exod 17:8 – 16 to the dtr layer of the Pentateuch. On the other hand, Deut 25:17– 19 has some features in common with late Pentateuchal texts. The above mentioned episode of Israel’s encounter with Edom in Num 20:14– 21 depends on the priestly context and its aim is to revise the positive evaluation of Edom in the dtr assembly law Deut 23:8b. The episode is a late insertion and most probably of post-priestly origin.³⁴ Likewise, Exod 18:8 – 12 is an interlude in the story of the introduction of the judicial system in Israel (Exod 18:1– 7, 13 – 27). Initially in 18:1, the readers are told that Jithro is informed about everything that happened to Israel, but then in 18:8 Moses tells the whole story again to his father-in-law who already knows it. This is because at this point the story shifts its focus to the personal attitude of Jethro. The verses 18:8 – 12 turn Jethro into a Yahweh believer whereas in the basic story he is the “priest of Midian” (Exod 2:16, 3:1, 18:1). Here again, we have a post-priestly addition to an older text. These parallels hint to a late post-priestly provenance of Deut 25:17– 19. Additionally we might consider the phrase “He did not fear God” (Deut 25:18b) as the underlying reason for Amaleks cruelty. To classify foreign people as “fearing God” or “not fearing God” is typical for late texts in the Pentateuch. In Gen 20:11 Abraham recognizes that the people of Gerar fear God and that it is

 Cf. Blum, Studien, ; Oswald, “Revision,”  f.

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therefore safe to sojourn in this territory. Likewise, the midwives of Egypt are characterized as fearing God (Exod 1:17, 21).³⁵ On the other hand the Amalekites do not fear God (Deut 25:18b) and this is why they do harm to Israel. The relation of the two passages Exod 17:8 – 16 and Deut 25:17– 19 is not that of narrative and law in a strict sense. Neither is the narrative Exod 17:8 – 16 the execution of the law Deut 25:17– 19, nor does the law depend on what the narrative relates. Both passages depend on the fact that there is a fierce hostility between Israel and Amalek. Exod 17:8 – 16 relocates this enmity to the Mosaic epoch and creates a didactic narrative with the intention to motivate the observation of the Mosaic law, presumably in its dtr version. Deut 25:17– 19 deepens the opposition between the two people because Amalek is depicted as insidious and not having fear of God. Therefore, the extinction of any remembrance for Amalek is not only a task for Joshua as in Exod 17:14 but a duty for the people as a whole.

Bibliography Albertz, Rainer. Exodus 1 – 18. ZBK.AT 2.1. Zürich: Theologischer Verlag, 2012. Aurelius, Erik. Der Fürbitter Israels: Eine Studie zum Mosebild im Alten Testament. CB.OT 27. Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1988. Berner, Christoph. “Das Wasserwunder von Rephidim (Ex 17,1 – 7) als Schlüsseltext eines nachpriesterschriftlichen Mosebildes.” VT 63 (2013): 193 – 209. Blum, Erhard. Studien zur Komposition des Pentateuch. BZAW 189. Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 1990. Coats, George W. “Moses Versus Amalek: Aetiology and Legend in Exod. xvii 8 – 16.” In Congress Volume: IOSOT Edinburgh 1974, 29 – 41. VT.S 28. Leiden: Brill, 1975. —. Exodus 1 – 18. FOTL IIA. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999. Davies, Graham I. “The Wilderness Itineraries and the Composition of the Pentateuch.” VT 33 (1983): 1 – 13. Dozeman, Thomas B. Commentary on Exodus. Eerdmans Critical Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009. Durham, John I. Exodus. WBC 3. Waco: Word Books, 1987. Fischer, Georg / Markl, Dominik. Das Buch Exodus. NSK.AT 2. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 2009. Fritz, Volkmar. Israel in der Wüste: Traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung der Wüstenüberlieferung des Jahwisten. MThSt 7. Marburg: Elwert, 1970.

 There is some ambiguity as to whether the midwives are Egyptian or Israelite which depends on the vocalization of ‫( למילדת‬Exod :). But when the Pharaoh speaks to the midwives he denotes the Israelite women not as their fellow-countrywomen but as the “Hebrew women” (Exod :). The original text seems to have understood the midwives as Egyptian, thus representing another side of Egypt, see Utzschneider / Oswald, Exodus  – ,  – .

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Houtman, Cornelis. Exodus: Chapters 7:14 – 19:25. HCOT. Kampen: Kok Publishing House, 1996. Jacob, Benno. Das Buch Exodus. Stuttgart: Calwer Verlag, 1997. Keel, Othmar. Wirkmächtige Siegeszeichen im Alten Testament: Ikonographische Studien zu Jos 8,18 – 26; Ex 17,8 – 13; 2 Kön 13,14 – 19 und 1 Kön 22,11. OBO 5. Fribourg: Universitätsverlag / Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1974. Kupfer, Christian. Mit Israel auf dem Weg durch die Wüste: Eine leserorientierte Exegese der Rebellionstexte in Exodus 15:22 – 17:7 und Numeri 11:1 – 20:13. OTS 61. Leiden / Boston: Brill, 2012. Levin, Christoph. Der Jahwist. FRLANT 157. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1993. MacDonald, Nathan. “Anticipations of Horeb: Exodus 17 as Inner-biblical Commentary.” In Studies on the Text and Versions of the Hebrew Bible in Honour of Robert Gordon, edited by Geoffrey Khan / Diana Lipton, 7 – 19. VT.S 149. Leiden / Boston: Brill, 2012. Meyers, Carol L. Exodus. The New Cambridge Bible Commentary. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005. Miller, Geoffrey P. “J as Constitutionalist: A Political Interpretation of Exodus 17:8 – 16 and Related Texts.” Chicago-Kent Law Review 70 (1995): 1829 – 47. Noort, Edward. “Josua und Amalek: Exodus 17:8 – 16.” In The Interpretation of Exodus: Studies in Honour of Cornelis Houtman, edited by Riemer Roukema, 155 – 70. CBET 44. Leuven et al.: Peeters, 2006. Noth, Martin. Das zweite Buch Mose: Exodus. ATD 5. 8th edn. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1988. Oswald, Wolfgang. “Die Revision des Edombildes in Numeri XX 14 – 21.” VT 50 (2000): 218 – 32. —. Staatstheorie im Alten Israel: Der politische Diskurs im Pentateuch und in den Geschichtsbüchern des Alten Testaments. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2009. —. “Das Gesetz, das Volk und der König: Zum gesellschaftlichen Status und zur Funktion der Gesetze im Pentateuch.” WO 44 (2014): 76 – 108. Propp, William H. C. Exodus 1 – 18: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. AB 2. New York: Doubleday, 1999. Roskop, Angela R. The Wilderness Itineraries: Genre, Geography, and the Growth of Torah. HACL 3. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2011. Schart, Aaron. Mose und Israel im Konflikt: Eine redaktionsgeschichtliche Studie zu den Wüstenerzählungen. OBO 98. Fribourg: Universitätsverlag / Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1990. Schmitt, Hans-Christoph. “Die Geschichte vom Sieg über die Amalekiter Ex 17,8 – 16 als theologische Lehrerzählung.” ZAW 102 (1990): 335 – 44. Utzschneider, Helmut / Oswald, Wolfgang. Exodus 1 – 15. IECOT. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2013. Van Seters, John. The Life of Moses: The Yahwist as Historian in Exodus–Numbers. Louisville: Westminster / John Knox Press, 1994.

Shimon Gesundheit (Hebrew University of Jerusalem)

Midrash-Exegesis in the Service of Literary Criticism* In this article, I would like to consider the possibility of enriching the literarycritical method in light of Jewish postbiblical midrash-exegesis. I will begin with a test case from Deut 2:24– 25: 24 Proceed on your journey and cross the Wadi Arnon. See, I have handed over to you King Sihon the Amorite of Heshbon, and his land. Begin to take possession and engage him in battle. 25 This day I will begin to put the dread and fear of you upon the peoples everywhere under heaven; when they hear report of you, they will tremble and be in anguish because of you.¹

These verses are surprising for the canonical reader of the Torah, since we know from Num 20:12 that Moses was punished and not allowed to enter the promised land of Canaan. Something similar emerges from three passages in Deuteronomy.² Joshua and not Moses should lead the conquest and the entrance into the land. But a different tradition is apparently expressed in Deut 2:24– 25 as well as in the preceding verses. Here it expressly speaks of the day on which the conquest should begin under the leadership of Moses: the border to the promised land is not the Jordan River but the Arnon! The land of king Sihon on the east side of the Jordan is explicitly described in this passage as the land which God gives as an inheritance to Israel. The Hebrew imperative ‫ רש‬in v. 24—“take possession”—derives from the same root ‫יר״ש‬ as ‫ירשה‬, the word for inheritance which describes the promised land. Moses is thus commanded to take possession of the inheritance of the land of Canaan for Israel. He must conquer the land and actively take the inheritance. In the German translation by Buber and Rosenzweig this imperative is rendered with the freely invented German verb “erbnehmen” (“to take inheritance”).³

*

My thanks go to Ken Brown for translating the German version of this article and to Stephen Germany for additional revisions.  Biblical quotations have been adapted from the NRSV.  The reasons for the punishment vary: In Deut : –  as in Num : it is Moses’ own sin, in Deut : and Deut : Moses is punished together with the Israelites for their sin.  See Buber / Rosenzweig, Die fünf Bücher der Weisung, .

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The linguistic expression of the inheritance-taking of the promised land is associated with similar expressions in the Deuteronomistic narrative in the first chapter of Deuteronomy. In the current text Deut 2:24 reads: ‫קוּמוּ ְסּעוּ ְוִעְברוּ ֶאת־ ַנַחל ַא ְרֹנן‬ ‫ְרֵאה ָנַת ִתּי ְב ָי ְדָך ֶאת־ִסיחֹן ֶמֶלְך־ֶח ְשׁבּוֹן ָהֱאמֹ ִרי ְוֶאת־ַא ְרצוֹ ָהֵחל ָרשׁ‬ ‫ְוִהְת ָגּר בּוֹ ִמְלָחָמה‬

Similarly, in Deut 1:8 it is said in reference to the promised land: ‫בּאוּ וּ ְרשׁוּ ֶאת־ָהָא ֶרץ‬ ֹ ‫ְרֵאה ָנַת ִתּי ִלְפ ֵניֶכם ֶאת־ָהָא ֶרץ‬ ‫בֵתיֶכם ְלַאְב ָרָהם ְליְִצָחק וְּל ַיֲעקֹב ָלֵתת ָלֶהם וְּל ַז ְרָעם ַאֲח ֵריֶהם‬ ֹ ‫ֲא ֶשׁר ִנ ְשׁ ַבּע ה׳ ַלֲא‬

And again in Deut 1:21: ‫ְרֵאה ָנַתן ה׳ ֱאל ֶֹהיָך ְלָפ ֶניָך ֶאת־ָהָא ֶרץ ֲעֵלה ֵרשׁ‬ ‫בֶתיָך ָלְך ַאל־ ִתּי ָרא ְוַאל־ ֵתָּחת‬ ֹ ‫ַכֲּא ֶשׁר ִדּ ֶבּר ה׳ ֱאל ֵֹהי ֲא‬

When we read the command to conquer the land of Sihon in Deut 2:24 against the background of these verses from chapter 1, it becomes even more apparent that Sihon’s land is portrayed as part of the promised land. Still more surprising—for the canonical reader—are the next verses, since according to 2:24– 25 we expect a war, such as the one described in 2:32 and the following verses. But 2:26 – 29 narrate a peaceful proposition by Moses, not a war. God’s command in v. 24 ‫“—ָהֵחל ָרשׁ ְוִהְת ָגּר בּוֹ ִמְלָחָמה‬Begin to take inheritance (“erbnimm es”) by engaging him in battle.”—seems to be completely ignored by Moses. More than this: Moses does exactly the opposite! Let us look more closely at verses 26 – 31: 26

So I sent messengers from the wilderness of Kedemoth to King Sihon of Heshbon with the following terms of peace: 27 “If you let me pass through your land, I will travel only along the road; I will turn aside neither to the right nor to the left. 28 You shall sell me food for money, so that I may eat, and supply me water for money, so that I may drink. Only allow me to pass through on foot—29 just as the descendants of Esau who live in Seir have done for me and likewise the Moabites who live in Ar—until I cross the Jordan into the land that Yhwh our God is giving us.” 30 But King Sihon of Heshbon was not willing to let us pass through, for Yhwh your God had hardened his spirit and made his heart defiant in order to hand him over to you, as he has now done. 31 Yhwh said to me, “See, I have begun to give Sihon and his land over to you. Begin now to take possession of his land.”

In verses 26 – 29 there is no mention of taking inheritance of the land of Sihon. On the contrary, Moses emphasizes that it only involves a passage through to the promised land. In v. 29 the Jordan—not the Arnon River—is explicitly identified

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as the border crossing to the land of Canaan: ‫ַעד ֲא ֶשׁר־ֶאֱעבֹר ֶאת־ַה ַיּ ְר ֵדּן ֶאל־ָהָא ֶרץ‬ ‫ֲא ֶשׁר־ה׳ ֱאל ֵֹהינוּ ֹנֵתן ָלנוּ‬. Also the verb ‫נת״ן‬, “to give,” appears again here in v. 29, but this time not in relation to Sihon’s land on the east side of the Jordan as in v. 24, but in relation to the land of Canaan on the west side of the Jordan. Against harmonizing exegesis it must be emphasized that Moses’ message of peace is neither presented as a cunning provocation to war nor as the beginning of negotiations for surrender in the sense of Deut 20:10 ff.⁴ True, Moses’ ‫ִּדְב ֵרי ָ ׁשלוֹם‬ recall 20:10, but the offer of peace aims at the crossing of a territory, not the surrender of a city. Thus, it is not possible to interpret the episode in ch. 2 as the fulfillment of the laws of warfare in ch. 20. On the other hand, those exegetes who suspect a tactical motivation behind the words of peace read the text as if Moses was praised as a cunning and dishonest military leader.⁵ Both attempts to explain the canonical text seem to preserve its coherence but raise problems on closer inspection. Instead of making pragmatic (“realpolitische”) assumptions, Deut 2:26 ff. should first be interpreted on the basis of their literary context. The motif of the crossing appears three times in Deut 2 in connection with an absolute prohibition against going to battle. The Israelites should not engage in battle against their sister peoples, since God will not give them the land for an inheritance. Thus it is said expressly concerning Edom, Moab and Ammon ‫ ַאל־ ִתְּת ָגּר‬or ‫ ַאל־ ִתְּת ָגּרוּ‬respectively: ‫אד‬ ֹ ‫… ַא ֶתּם עְֹב ִרים ִבּ ְגבוּל ֲאֵחיֶכם ְבּ ֵני־ֵע ָשׂו ַה ֹיּ ְשִׁבים ְבּ ֵשִׂעיר ְויִי ְראוּ ִמ ֶכּם ְו ִנ ְשַׁמ ְר ֶתּם ְמ‬4 ‫ַאל־ ִתְּת ָגּרוּ ָבם ִכּי ל ֹא־ֶא ֵתּן ָלֶכם ֵמַא ְרָצם ַעד ִמ ְד ַרְך ַכּף־ ָר ֶגל‬5 ‫ִכּי־ ְיֻר ָשּׁה ְלֵע ָשׂו ָנַת ִתּי ֶאת־ַהר ֵשִׂעיר‬ ‫ ַו ֹיּאֶמר ה׳ ֵאַלי ַאל־ ָתַּצר ֶאת־מוָֹאב ְוַאל־ ִתְּת ָגּר ָבּם ִמְלָחָמה ִכּי ל ֹא־ֶא ֵתּן ְלָך ֵמַא ְרצוֹ ְיֻר ָשּׁה‬9 ‫ִכּי ִלְב ֵני־לוֹט ָנַת ִתּי ֶאת־ָער ְיֻר ָשּׁה‬

 Moshe Weinfeld, for instance, describes the offer of peace as a “mere pretext aimed at provoking war” (Weinfeld, Deuteronomy, ). Raik Heckl, Moses Vermächtnis,  – , even views v.  ff. as a direct “Kriegseröffnung” (“initiation of war”), which he sees indicated in the word ‫ ָשׁלוֹם‬as its negation. By contrast, interpretations which take Deut : ff. as their point of departure assume a peaceful intent: “Wiewohl im Rate Gottes der Krieg bereits beschlossen war, sollte doch nach dem Völkerrechte verfahren werden” (“Although war had already been decided by divine counsel, one should nevertheless proceed according to international law”), judged Hoffmann, Deuteronomium I, ; followed by König, Deuteronomium, . Similarly, Otto, Deuteronomium  – , , affirms that Moses is here shown to be in compliance with Deut  and “vom Vorwurf befreit, einen Angriffskrieg geführt zu haben” (“exempted from the charge of having waged an offensive war”).  Josef G. Plöger has already argued against the assumption of such a “disingenuous ploy” (“unehrliche Verstellung”) (Plöger, Untersuchungen zum Deuteronomium, ). So also Cairns, Word and Presence, , who denies that Moses’ words are “merely tongue-in-cheek.”

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‫ ְוָק ַרְב ָתּ מוּל ְבּ ֵני ַעמּוֹן ַאל־ ְתֻּצ ֵרם ְוַאל־ ִתְּת ָגּר ָבּם ִכּי ל ֹא־ֶא ֵתּן ֵמֶא ֶרץ ְבּ ֵני־ַעמּוֹן ְלָך ְיֻר ָשּׁה‬19 ‫ִכּי ִלְב ֵני־לוֹט ְנַת ִתּיָה ְיֻר ָשּׁה‬

Against this background, the contrasts in our passage are still sharper: While the war-command ‫ ְוִהְת ָגּר בּוֹ ִמְלָחָמה‬in Deut 2:24 indicates a radical political change according to the repeated exhortation ‫ַאל־ ִתְּת ָגּר ָבּם ִמְלָחָמה‬, verses 26 – 29 have in view the wish for a peaceful crossing through an area outside the promised land, exactly as in the preceding narratives. Next to the crossing-narrative, Moses’ offer of peace evokes one further association. The words of peace apparently seek to recall the laws in Deut 20:10 ff., as some interpreters have already seen. Certainly one should not interpret this as an exact implementation of the war legislation (the problems were indicated above) but instead recognize the literary intention: In Deut 20:10 it is said at the outset that during the siege of a city peace must always be offered first, before a military conquest is undertaken: ‫ִכּי־ִתְק ַרב ֶאל־ִעיר ְלִה ָלֵּחם ָעֶליָה ְוָק ָראָת ֵאֶליָה‬ ‫ְל ָשׁלוֹם‬. In Deut 20:15 – 18 this command is limited secondarily to “all the towns that are very far from you” (v. 15). The law of the peace offer should therefore not apply to “the towns of these peoples that Yhwh your God is giving you as an inheritance” (v. 16). With the ‫ ִּדְב ֵרי ָ ׁשלוֹם‬in Deut 2 alluding to the law in Deut 20 it is thus again suggested that Sihon’s land does not belong to the promised land, but to the areas “that are very far from you” and need not be conquered. The addition of verses 26 – 29 counteracts the impression that Moses had truly entered the promised land and himself begun the conquest. Moses’ offer of peace in verses 26 – 29 thus has absolutely nothing to do with a war of conquest nor the subjugation of Sihon. It rather stands in direct contrast to the divine command: His behavior is aimed at peace and not war, at a peaceful crossing and not a war of conquest. Moses apparently thinks differently than God and does not view the east side of the Jordan as a part of the promised land. In the end, however, God thwarts Moses’ plans. God hardens Sihon’s spirit and makes his heart stubborn, and Moses’ words of peace are answered by Sihon with war (Deut 2:30 – 32). Since God had intervened, Sihon’s land is finally conquered anyway. Obviously verses 24– 25 and 26 – 31 represent differing opinions concerning the status of the area east of the Jordan, and concerning whether Moses or Joshua began the conquest of the land. From a literary-critical perspective the conjecture suggests itself that verses 26 – 31 are a later insertion, or as I would put it: a form of innerbiblical midrash. It seeks to allay the surprise of the reader who gets the impression from verses 24 and 25 that the east side of the Jordan belongs to the promised land. The answer the midrash gives is that this land

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was indeed eventually conquered, but only because God intervened and made Sihon’s heart stubborn. Thus, v. 29 clarifies that the true border to the promised land is the Jordan and not the Arnon. This literary-critical thesis stands in contrast to that of many interpreters, who consider Deut 2:24– 25 to be secondary.⁶ When I on the other hand view Deut 2:26 – 31 as “innerbiblical midrash,” I conclude this above all from the following observations: 1. Verses 26 – 31 raise tensions and contradictions with the narrative in Deut 2. 2. The Wiederaufnahme from verses 24– 25 in v. 31 marks an insertion. 3. This insertion is characterized by a high degree of intertextuality and is clearly secondary in relation to its parallels. The first argument was already presented. I will now explain the other two arguments. As is often the case, the secondary expansion is woven into the text through a Wiederaufnahme of the original verses.⁷ This is particularly clear with the repetition of the conquest command from verses 24– 25 in v. 31. Verse 31 cites in chiastic reversal both of the characteristic elements that appear only here: ‫ ְרֵאה ָנַת ִתּי ְב ָי ְדָך ֶאת־ִסיחֹן ֶמֶלְך־ֶח ְשׁבּוֹן ָהֱאמֹ ִרי ְוֶאת־ַא ְרצוֹ ָהֵחל ָרשׁ ְוִהְת ָגּר בּוֹ ִמְלָחָמה‬24 … ‫ַהיּוֹם ַה ֶזּה ָאֵחל ֵתּת ַפְּח ְדָּך ְויִ ְרָאְתָך ַעל־ ְפּ ֵני ָהַע ִמּים ַתַּחת ָכּל־ַה ָשָּׁמיִם‬25 ‫ ַו ֹיּאֶמר ה׳ ֵאַלי ְרֵאה ַהִחלּ ִֹתי ֵתּת ְלָפ ֶניָך ֶאת־ִסיחֹן ְוֶאת־ַא ְרצוֹ ָהֵחל ָרשׁ ָל ֶר ֶשׁת ֶאת־ַא ְרצוֹ‬31

But instead of the words in v. 24 “Begin to take possession by engaging him in battle,” ‫ָהֵחל ָרשׁ ְוִהְת ָגּר בּוֹ ִמְלָחָמה‬, v. 31 states: “Begin now to take possession of his land,” ‫ָהֵחל ָרשׁ ָל ֶר ֶשׁת ֶאת־ַא ְרצוֹ‬. The second part of the original command in v. 24—‫ ְוִהְת ָגּר בּוֹ ִמְלָחָמה‬, “Engage him in battle!,” or better: “Provoke him to battle!”—is apparently intentionally left out in v. 31, since the command to provoke an instigation of war is no longer necessary after the intervention of God.

 The most important literary critical criterion for this opinion is the Numeruswechsel in v.  (the redactional layer would thus begin at ‫ ;) ְרֵאה‬furthermore, v.  “anticipates” v. . Cf. already Marti, “Deuteronomium,” : “Zu dem auffallenden Singular kommt hier noch die Wiederkehr derselben Worte in V. ” (“In addition to the conspicuous singular there is as well the recurrence of the same words in v. ”). Steuernagel, Deuteronomium, , calls verses  –  a “vorgreifende Dublette” (“anticipatory doublet”). In more recent times, this standpoint is represented by Perlitt, Deuteronomium, .; Veijola, Deuteronomium,  – , and Rüterswörden, Deuteronomium, .  The interpretation of v.  as a Wiederaufnahme of v.  stands thereby in contradiction to the opinion just mentioned, that v.  is a premature “anticipation” of v. .

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The secondary character of Deut 2:26 – 31 becomes even clearer when one compares the wording of these verses with the wording of parallel traditions in the Torah. The comparison shows that our midrashic redactor (“Bearbeiter”) has borrowed and reworked much material from parallel sources. Furthermore, characteristics of later language are recognizable in the reworkings. Besides the parallel account in Num 21:21– 25, above all the reports concerning Edom in Num 20:17– 20 and Deut 2:6 served as Vorlagen. ⁸ In Deut 2:28 almost the whole text of 2:6 is incorporated: Deut : ‫אֶכל ַבּ ֶכֶּסף ַתּ ְשׁ ִבּ ֵר ִני ְוָאַכְל ִתּי‬ ֹ …‫וַּמיִם ַבּ ֶכֶּסף ִתּ ֶתּן־ִלי ְו ָשִׁתיִתי‬

Deut : ‫אֶכל ִתּ ְשׁ ְבּרוּ ֵמִא ָתּם ַבּ ֶכֶּסף ַוֲאַכְל ֶתּם‬ ֹ ‫ְו ַגם־ַמיִם ִתְּכרוּ ֵמִא ָתּם ַבּ ֶכֶּסף וּ ְשִׁתיֶתם‬

The author who expanded the text has adapted the Vorlage to its new context by applying several formal changes: First, the verse is changed from plural to singular, since in Deut 2:28 Moses speaks in the collective singular in the name of the people. Second, the form of address is adjusted: In v. 6 God speaks to Israel about Seir in the third person, while in v. 28 Moses speaks to Sihon, whom he addresses directly in the second person. Instead of ‫ ִתּ ְשׁ ְבּרוּ ֵמִא ָתּם‬Moses says ‫ ַתּ ְשׁ ִבּ ֵר ִני‬and instead of ‫ ִתְּכרוּ ֵמִא ָתּם‬he says ‫ ִתּ ֶתּן־ִלי‬. Much more interesting, however, is the change of words, in particular ‫ ִתּ ֶתּן‬in place of ‫ ִתְּכרוּ‬. Precisely because there is no difference in meaning this could be an objective hint of redaction: The redactor here replaces the rare word ‫ ִתְּכרוּ‬for “buy” with the simpler word ‫ ִתּ ֶתּן‬as lectio facilior. Instead of ‫ְו ַגם־ַמיִם ִתְּכרוּ ֵמִא ָתּם‬ ‫( ַבּ ֶכֶּסף‬Deut 2:6), it says in the innerbiblical midrash simply ‫וַּמיִם ַבּ ֶכֶּסף ִתּ ֶתּן־ִלי‬ (Deut 2:28). A second brief example: The expression ‫ ) ְבּ( ֶדּ ֶרְך ַה ֶמֶּלְך ֵנֵלְך‬in Num 20:17 and 21:22 probably reflects the terminology of the Assyrian imperial administration for the description of trade routes from Damascus to the Gulf of Aqaba.⁹ In the reworking this classic expression is simply vulgarized with ‫ַבּ ֶדּ ֶרְך ַבּ ֶדּ ֶרְך ֵאֵלְך‬ (v. 27). The repetition of the same word ‫ ַבּ ֶדּ ֶרְך‬as content-related intensification

 Cf. on this the table in the appendix, which presents an overview of the textual relations. Regarding the question of the direction of dependence between Num : ff. and Deut : ff., cf. the discussion between John Van Seters and John Bartlett: Van Seters, “Conquest of Sihon′s Kingdom,” sees Num  as dependent on Deut  and Judg . Bartlett, “Conquest of Sihon′s Kingdom,” argues for the opposite thesis. Cf. also John Van Seters, “Once Again”. Reinhard Achenbach, who sees at least Num : –  as pre-Deuteronomistic, advocates a complex relation between the texts, cf. Achenbach, Vollendung der Tora, ,  (esp. n. ).  Cf. van Zyl, Moabites,  – ; Oded, “Assyrian Rule in Transjordania”.

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—“I will travel only along the road”—recalls late biblical Hebrew expressions such as the common ‫בֶּקר‬ ֹ ‫בֶּקר ַבּ‬ ֹ ‫ ַבּ‬in the priestly literature.¹⁰ *** The exegesis of this passage in Deut 2 has produced very diverse results in the history of research. Besides literary-critical analyses,¹¹ some well-known researchers show absolutely no awareness of the tensions in the text of Deut 2, as for instance Samuel Rolles Driver in his famous commentary on Deuteronomy.¹² Yet others, such as Moshe Weinfeld, attempt to harmonize these tensions.¹³ Against this background it may be interesting to cast a brief look at the postbiblical rabbinic midrash. I would like to present three short midrashim. First, there is a discussion of our passage in Deuteronomy Rabbah, Parashath Devarim, paragraph 28:¹⁴ Although the Holy One, blessed be He, instructed Moses: “Begin to possess [and engage him in battle] (Deut :),” Moses did not so do, but rather: “So I sent messengers (Deut :).” Although He told him: “Go, make war,” he sought peace! [He did so,] because thus it is written in the Torah: “When you draw near to a town to fight against it, offer it terms of peace (Deut :).” That is why he sent words of peace to Sihon, for it is said: “So I sent messengers from the wilderness of Kedemoth (Deut :),” because of words that preceded the Torah, because of the words of the Holy One, blessed be He. Therefore it is said “words of peace.”

‫ ”ָהֵחל ָרשׁ‬:‫ַאף ַעל ִפּי ֶ ׁשָאַמר לוֹ ַה ָ ּקדוֹשׁ ָבּרוְּך הוּא ְלמֹ ֶשׁה‬ ,‫ מֹ ֶשׁה ל ֹא ָעָׂשה ֵכן‬,(‫ כד‬,‫] ְוִהְת ָגּר בּוֹ ִמְלָחָמה[“ )דברים ב׳‬ ‫ ַאף ַעל ִפּי ֶ ׁשָאַמר‬.(‫ כו‬,‫ ” ָוֶא ְשַׁלח ַמְלָאִכי“ )דברים ב׳‬:‫ֶאָלא‬ ‫ ” ִכּי‬:‫ ֶ ׁש ֵכּן ָכּתוּב ַבּתּוֹ ָרה‬,‫ ֵלך ֲעֵׂשה ִמְלָחָמה – ִבּ ֵקּשׁ ָשׁלוֹם‬:‫לוֹ‬ ‫ ָלֵכן ָשַלח ֶאל‬.(‫ י‬,‫ִתְק ַרב ֶאל ִעיר ְלִה ָלֵּחם ְוגוֹ׳“ )דברים כ׳‬ ‫ ” ָוֶא ְשַׁלח ַמְלָאִכים ִמ ִמּ ְד ַבּר‬:‫ ֶש ֶנֱאַמר‬,‫ִסיחוֹן ִדְב ֵרי ָשׁלוֹם‬ ,‫ כו( – ִמ ְּדָב ִרים ֶ ׁש ָ ּק ְדמוּ ַלתּוֹ ָרה‬,‫ְק ֵדמוֹת“ )דברים ב׳‬ ‫ ” ִדְּב ֵרי‬:‫ ְלָכְך ֶנֱאַמר‬,‫ִמ ְּדָב ָריו ֶ ׁשל ַה ָ ּקדוֹשׁ ָבּרוְּך הוּא‬ .(‫ָשׁלוֹם“ )שם‬

 Cf., e. g., Exod :, :, :; Lev :; see also Ezek : – .  Besides the works referred to in n.  (Marti, Steuernagel, Perlitt, Veijola, and Rüterswörden), the following analyses should be mentioned: Rose, . Buch Mose,  – ; Nielsen, Deuteronomium,  – ; Otto, Deuteronomium  – ,  – , and Achenbach, Vollendung der Tora,  – .  Driver, Deuteronomy, .  Regarding Weinfeld and other “political” explanations, cf. n. . Other commentators explain the tensions “theologically” according to the different levels of God’s planning and human decisions; so, e. g., Dillmann, Numeri, Deuteronomium und Josua, ; Wright, Deuteronomy, ; or Brueggemann, Deuteronomy, . In doing so, however, they reduce the clear divine command to a secret knowledge.  Text according to the edition by S. Lieberman with minor adaptations.

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Surprisingly, this midrash views Moses as an interpreter of Torah. Moses allows himself to reverse the divine command, transforming war into peace. He interprets the command in Deut 2 by means of another passage in the Torah, namely Deut 20. There, in Deut 20, the midrash seeks the origin of the idea of the “words of peace”—‫— ִדְּב ֵרי ָשׁלוֹם‬which were more fundamental than the divine war-command for Moses, because the “words (of peace) preceded the Torah” (‫ִמ ְדָּב ִרים‬ ‫) ֶשׁ ָקּ ְדמוּ ַלתּוֹ ָרה‬. The midrash is thus sensitive for the notable expression ‫ִמ ְד ַבּר‬ ‫ְק ֵדמוֹת‬, “Midbar Kedemoth” (Deut 2:26)¹⁵ and interprets it very creatively—philologically certainly arbitrary, but theological very meaningful: ‫ִמ ְד ָבּר‬, “the wilderness,” becomes ‫ִמ ְדָּב ִרים‬, “because of words,” and ‫ ְק ֵדמוֹת‬becomes ‫ָק ְדמוּ ַלתּוֹ ָרה‬, “(the words that) preceded the Torah.” Theologically the midrash refers here perhaps to the rabbinic principle that there are certain universal values that precede the laws of the Torah, and which are therefore more fundamental than the Torah: ‫ ֶּד ֶרְך ֶא ֶרץ ׇק ְדׇמה ַלתּ ׇוֹרה‬, “Proper behavior precedes the Torah.”¹⁶ Just as in the innerbiblical midrash—i. e., in Deut 2:26 – 31—, the postbiblical midrash also idealizes the offer of peace within the law of Deut 20, since in reality the latter refers to an offer of surrender rather than a true offer of ‫ ָשׁלוֹם‬.¹⁷ Nevertheless, the innerbiblical midrash in Deut 2:26 – 31 draws on this association with peace—as already noted—in order to even out the tensions between contradictory traditions in the canonical text. The peace that Moses offers Sihon is thereby a true peace and by no means an aggressive offer to surrender in the sense of Deut 20. The postbiblical midrash goes a step further. It not only sees in the offer to surrender from Deut 20 an ideal of peace, but describes Moses as a biblical interpreter, who defies the divine war-command on the basis of the Torah’s idea of peace.

 Kedemoth in v.  is a remarkable name, which is elsewhere unattested in the Pentateuch. In the similar tradition in Num :, Moses sends the envoys from Kadesh and not from Kedemoth.  The exact saying does not occur in rabbinic writings, however, it is based on a passage found in Leviticus Rabbah :: ‫ עשרים וששה דורות קדמה דרך ארץ‬:‫דאמר רבי ישמעאל בר רב נחמן‬ ‫ ואחר כך ”עץ החיים“ —זו‬,‫ ”דרך“ — זו דרך ארץ‬.(‫ כד‬,‫ הה״ד ”לשמור את דרך עץ החיים“ )בראשית ג׳‬,‫את התורה‬ ‫ תורה‬. See also mAv :. – Dr. Raanan Eichler suggested another reading of this midrash. He understands “the words that preceded the Torah” rather as “the words of the Holy One” (Deut : – ), which in fact chronologically precede the promulgation of “the words of the Torah” (Deut : – ) in the timeline of Deuteronomy. According to his explanation, the midrash describes Moses’ “words of peace” as departing from God’s command. From there—from God’s words—Moses sent the messengers and followed a different course, that of the Torah.  Ed Noort, “Kapitulationsangebot,” has thoroughly worked out the inner- and extrabiblical parallels to this.

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This is expressed considerably more radically in the second midrash, another passage from Deuteronomy Rabbah, Parashath Shoftim, paragraph 13:¹⁸ R. Joshua of Siknin said in the name of R. Levi: The Holy One, blessed be He, approved of whatever Moses decided. How (is this to be understood)? The Holy One, blessed be He, did not command him to break the Tablets. Moses, (however,) went out and broke them on his acocunt. And whence (do we know) that the Holy One, blessed be He, approved of (his action)? For it is written: “Which (‫)ֲא ֶ ׁשר‬ thou didst break (Ex :)” – it was right that you broke them (‫)יִי ַשׁר ֹכֲּחָך ֶשׁ ִּשׁ ָבּ ְר ָתּ‬.¹⁹ The Holy One, blessed be He, commanded him to fight against Sihon and Og, as it is said: “And engage with him in battle (Deut :), yet he did not do so, but “So I sent messengers [from the wilderness of Kedemoth to King Sihon of Heshbon with the words of peace] (Deut :).” The Holy One, blessed be He, said to him: “I have commanded you to fight against him, but you approached him in peace. By your life, I herewith confirm your decision: Every war in which they (i. e., Israel) engage, they shall not approach except in peace,” as it is said: “When you draw near to a town etc. to fight against it, offer it terms of peace (Deut : ff.).

,‫ ָכּל ַמה ֶשּׁ ָגּ ַזר מֶֹשה‬:‫ָאַמר ַר ִבּי ְיהוֹ ֻשׁ ַע ְדִסְכ ִנין ְבּ ֵ ׁשם ַר ִבּי ֵל ִוי‬ ‫ ֵכּיַצד? ל ֹא ָאַמר לוֹ ַה ָ ּקדוֹשׁ‬.‫ִהְס ִכּים ַה ָ ּקדוֹשׁ ָבּרוְּך הוּא ִעמּוֹ‬ .‫ ָהַלְך מֶֹשה ְו ִשׁ ְבּ ָרן ֵמַעְצמּוֹ‬.‫ָבּרוְּך הוּא ִל ְשׁבּוֹר ֶאת ַהלּוּחוֹת‬ ‫ ”ֲא ֶ ׁשר‬:‫וּ ִמּ ַניִן ֶשִׁהְס ִכּים ַה ָ ּקדוֹשׁ ָבּרוְּך הוּא ִעמּוֹ? ִּדְכִתיב‬ .‫ א( – יִי ַשׁר ֹכֲּחָך ֶשׁ ִּשׁ ָבּ ְר ָתּ‬,‫ִ ׁשַּב ְר ָתּ“ )שמות ל״ד‬

:‫ ֶשׁ ֶנֱּאַמר‬,‫ַה ָ ּקדוֹשׁ ָבּרוְּך הוּא ָאַמר לוֹ ֶ ׁש ִיּ ָּלֵחם ִעם ִסיחוֹן‬ ‫ ְוהוּא ל ֹא ָעָׂשה‬,(‫ כד‬,‫” ְוִה ְתּ ָגר בּוֹ ִמְלָחָמה“ )דברים ב׳‬ ‫ ” ָוֶא ְשַׁלח ַמְלָאִכים ]ִמ ִמּ ְד ַבּר ְק ֵדמוֹת ֶאל ִסיחוֹן‬:‫ ֶאָלא‬,‫ֵכן‬ .(‫ כו‬,‫ֶמֶלְך ֶח ְשׁבּוֹן ִדְּב ֵרי ָשׁלוֹם[“ )דברים ב׳‬

‫ ְוַאָּתה‬,‫ ָאַמ ְר ִתּי ְלָך ְלִהָּלֵחם ִעמּוֹ‬:‫ָאַמר לוֹ ַה ָ ּקדוֹשׁ ָבּרוְּך הוּא‬ ‫ ָכּל ִמְלָחָמה‬.‫ ֶ ׁשֲא ִני ְמַק ֵיּם ְּג ֵז ָרֶתָך‬,‫ ַח ֶיּיָך‬.‫ָפַּתְח ָּת לוֹ ְבּ ָ ׁשלוֹם‬ :‫ ֶשׁ ֶנֱּאַמר‬,‫ ל ֹא ְיהוּ פּוְֹתִחים ֶאָּלא ְבּ ָ ׁשלוֹם‬,‫ֶ ׁש ְּיהוּ הוְֹלִכים‬ .(‫ י‬,‫” ִכּי ִתְק ַרב ֶאל ִעיר ְוגוֹ׳“ )דברים כ׳‬

The second midrash is—as already noted—even more radical than the first. Again, a contrast between the divine war-command in Deut 2 and the divine peace-command in Deut 20 is addressed (or more precisely: created). But now, Moses is not—as in the first midrash—a revolutionary Torah interpreter who can transform war into peace hermeneutically; instead, he is himself the originator of the proposition of peace. God agrees with him afterwards and transforms Moses’ words of peace in Deut 2—‫— ִדְּב ֵרי ָשׁלוֹם‬into a generally applicable law in Deut 20. According to this midrash, the divine law in Deut 20 is therefore a “secondary Fortschreibung” by the hand of God that goes back to the human initiative of Moses—that is, to his disobedience! Moses’ disobedience against the di Text according to the edition by M. A. Mirkin with minor adaptations.  ‫ יִי ַשׁר ֹכֲּחָך‬is a fixed expression for gratitude and approval.

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vine war command is thereby compared with nothing less than the shattering of the divine law-tablets on Sinai. The third example is a midrash to the parallel narrative in Num 21 (Numbers Rabbah, Parashath Hukkath, paragraph 27):²⁰ “Then Israel sent messengers” (Num :) – This bears on what scripture says: “Trust in Yhwh, and do good; so you will live in the land, and enjoy security (Ps :).” It also says, “Depart from evil, and do good, seek peace, and pursue it (Ps :).” Now the Torah did not insist that we should actually go in pursuit of the commandments, but (said): “If you come on a bird’s nest (Deut :);” “If you come upon (your enemy’s ox) (Ex :);” “If you see (the donkey of one who hates you lying under its burden) (Ex :);” “If you beat your olive trees (Deut :);” “If you gather the grapes of your vineyard (Deut :);” “If you go into your neighbor’s vineyard (Deut :).” If they (i. e., the commandments) come your way you are obliged by them, but you need not go in pursuit of them. But (concerning) peace – “seek peace” wherever you happen to be, “and pursue it” if it is elsewhere. Israel in fact acted in this way. Although the Holy One, blessed be He, had said to them: “Begin to possess it, and engage him in battle (Deut :),” they pursued peace: “Then Israel sent messengers to Sihon (Num :).”

‫ כא( – ֶזה ֶ ׁשָאַמר‬,‫” ַו ִיּ ְשַׁלח יִ ְשׂ ָרֵאל ַמְלָאִכים“ )במדבר כ״א‬ “‫ ” ְבַּטח ַבּה׳ ַוֲע ֵשׂה טוֹב ְשָׁכן ֶא ֶרץ וּ ְרֵעה ֱאמוּ ָנה‬:‫ַה ָכּתוּב‬ ‫ ”סוּר ֵמ ָרע ַוֲע ֵשׂה טוֹב ַבּ ֵקּשׁ‬:‫ ְואוֵֹמר‬.(‫ ג‬,‫)תהלים ל״ז‬ .(‫ טו‬,‫ָשׁלוֹם ְו ָר ְדֵפהוּ“ )תהלים ל״ד‬

‫ ֶאָּלא ” ִכּי יִ ָקּ ֵרא ַקן‬,‫ְול ֹא ָקְפ ָדה ַהתּוֹ ָרה ִל ְרדּוֹף ַאַחר ַה ִמְּצוֹת‬ ‫ ” ִכּי‬,(‫ ד‬,‫ ” ִכּי ִתְּפ ַגּע“ )שמות כ״ג‬,(‫ ו‬,‫ִצפּוֹר“ )דברים כ״ב‬ ֹ ‫ ” ִכּי ַתְח‬,(‫ ה‬,‫ִת ְרֶאה ֲחמוֹר“ )שמות כ״ג‬ “‫בּט ֵזיְתָך‬ ,(‫ כא‬,‫ ” ִּכי ִתְּבצוֹר ַּכ ְרְמָך“ )דברים כ״ד‬,(‫ כ‬,‫)דברים כ״ד‬ .(‫ כה‬,‫בא ְבֶּכ ֶרם ֵרֶעָך“ )דברים כ״ג‬ ֹ ‫” ִּכי ָת‬

‫ ֲאָבל‬.‫ ְול ֹא ִל ְרדּוֹף ַאֲח ֵריֶהם‬,‫ ַא ְתּ ְמֻצ ֶּוה ֲעֵליֶהם‬,‫ִאם ָבּאוּ ְל ָי ְדָך‬ ‫ ” ְו ָר ְדֵפהוּ“ ְבָּמקוֹם ַאֵחר‬,‫ַה ָשּׁלוֹם – ” ַבּ ֵקּשׁ ָשׁלוֹם“ ִבְּמקוְֹמָך‬ ‫ ַאף ַעל ִפּי ֶ ׁשָאַמר ָלֶהם‬.‫ ְוֵכן ָעשׂוּ יְִׂש ָרֵאל‬.(‫ טו‬,‫)תהלים ל״ד‬ ‫ ”ָהֵחל ָרשׁ ְוִהְת ָגּר בּוֹ ִמְלָחָמה“ )דברים‬:‫ַה ָ ּקדוֹשׁ ָבּרוְּך הוּא‬ ‫ ” ַו ִיּ ְשַׁלח יִ ְשׂ ָרֵאל ַמְלָאִכים ֶאל‬:‫ כד( – ָר ְדפוּ ֶאת ַה ָּ ׁשלוֹם‬,‫ב׳‬ (‫ כא‬,‫ִסיחוֹן“ )במדבר כ״א‬

If I described the first two midrashim as revolutionary and radical, I should perhaps describe the third midrash as nearly anarchistic. The freedom of which this midrash avails itself is remarkable. From a selectively and tendentiously chosen list of casuistic laws this midrash infers very broadly that one need not pursue the laws of the Torah. Only the search for peace must truly be pursued, since peace is the guiding principle for our lives. In this regard, a verse from the Psalms serves as an inspiring reference to the principle of peace, to which even the laws of the Torah must be subordinated. On the basis of this principle Israel had had the freedom—indeed even the obligation—to send messengers of peace to Sihon, despite God’s command for war. In this way, the midrash reads  Text according to the Vilna edition with minor adaptations.

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Num 21 against the background of Deut 2 and concludes that in Num 21 Israel is disobedient to the divine command to Moses in Deut 2. *** Although these midrashim deal with the biblical text very freely, they show a remarkable awareness of the tensions in the canonical text of Deut 2. There is no attempt to harmonize these tensions in the midrashim. On the contrary, the clash between the literary layers is developed to present a clash in reality, i. e., a dramatic scene of Moses’ and Israel’s disobedience to God’s command. Likewise, the midrashim recognize the intertextual relations that also underlie the innerbiblical midrash in Deut 2, such as the relationship of the secondary text in Deut 2 to the law in Deut 20. If sometimes even diachronically-oriented exegetes do not perceive the tensions and intertextual relations in the canonical text, the midrashim may prove a helpful tool which prompts our awareness of the problem. In recent research, midrashim and the ancient translations do indeed sometimes serve as a means of uncovering innerbiblical midrashim or Fortschreibungen. Especially Alexander Rofé has shown this in a series of works.²¹ Eckart Otto has also been inspired by the idea of midrash in his recent Deuteronomy commentary. He sees—in contrast to my analysis—the tensions between the war-command and the peace request already as part of the Deuteronomistic base-layer, which thus presents Moses as law-abiding (Deut 20) and peace-loving.²² Today the secondary expansions in the biblical text need no longer be “cut out” as “excrescences” (“Wucherungen”) or as “inauthentic,” as in classical literary criticism. Rather, they can be evaluated as innerbiblical midrashim and explored for their theological message. Sometimes it appears that the subtle logic and the exegetical methods of innerbiblical midrashim are first recognizable through the much more transparent postbiblical midrashim. To conclude, I would like to direct a glance to the radicalism of rabbinic theology that comes to light in these midrashim. In all three midrashim, not only is the disobedience against God’s war-command clearly recognized, but it is also positively evaluated, since it serves a higher ethical ideal. The ideal of peace embodied in Deut 20 or Ps 34:15 outweighs even direct divine commands in the assessment of the rabbis. In one of these midrashim God even agrees only in retrospect to Moses’ unilateral decision for peace. Here we encounter complex ethical balancing and a very creative handling of God’s commands—and no

 E.g. Rofé, “Jewish Sources as an Aid,” idem, “Biblical Antecedents,” idem, “Elisha at Dothan”.  Cf. Otto, Deuteronomium  – ,  – ,  – , see above n. .

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blind obedience to the law, as the Pharisees and their rabbinic disciples have often been accused of in the history of the academic study of the Old Testament.²³ If Old Testament exegetes learn to consult Jewish midrashim and rabbinic hermeneutics, such prejudices, which have characterized the history of research for all too long, can be overcome.

Bibliography Achenbach, Reinhard. Die Vollendung der Tora. Studien zur Redaktionsgeschichte des Numeribuches im Kontext von Pentateuch und Hexateuch. BZAR 3. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2003. Bartlett, John R. “The Conquest of Sihon′s Kingdom. A Literary Re-Examination.” JBL 97 (1978): 347 – 51. Brueggemann, Walter. Deuteronomy. AOTC. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2001. Buber, Martin / Rosenzweig, Franz. Die fünf Bücher der Weisung. Vol. 1 of Die Schrift. 10th edn. Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1992. Cairns, Ian. Word and Presence: A Commentary on the Book of Deuteronomy. ITC. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1992. Dillmann, August. Die Bücher Numeri, Deuteronomium und Josua. KEH 13. 2nd edn. Leipzig: Hirzel, 1886. Driver, Samuel Rolles. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Deuteronomy. 3rd edn. ICC. Edinburgh: Clark, 1951. Heckl, Raik. Moses Vermächtnis. Kohärenz, literarische Intention und Funktion von Dtn 1 – 3. ABIG 9. Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 2004. Hoffmann, David Zwi. Das Buch Deuteronomium I: Deut. I–XX, 9. Berlin: Poppelauer, 1913. König, Eduard. Das Deuteronomium. KAT 3. Leipzig: Deichert, 1917. Liebermann, Saul: Midrash Debarim Rabbah. Edited for the first time from the Oxford ms. No. 147 with an Introduction and Notes. 2nd edn. Jerusalem: Wahrmann Books, 1964. Marti, Karl. “Das Fünfte Buch Moses oder Deuteronomium.” In: HSAT 1, Mose bis Ezechiel, edited by Alfred Bertholet, 258 – 327. 4th edn. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck), 1922. Mirkin, Moshe Aryeh: Debarim rabbah. Vol. 11 of Midrash rabbah. Tel Aviv: Yavneh, 1967. Nielsen, Eduard. Deuteronomium. HAT I/6. Tübingen: Mohr, 1995.

 Julius Wellhausen’s judgment concerning the ethical degeneration of the Pharisees is characteristic: “The sum of the means became the objective; God was forgotten in favor of the Torah […]. An ethical and religious materialism was rampant. It degenerated into an external substrata of deeds […] and did not consider their relationship to [be] something unconditionally valuable. Such are the signs of the age; the once young and fermenting wine settled on the lees. Examples are abundant. I am saying nothing new here.” And later: “The Pharisees know only one mission —to fulfill the Law […] They do what has been commanded, come what may” (Wellhausen, Pharisees,  and  – ).

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Noort, Edward. “Das Kapitulationsangebot im Kriegsgesetz Dtn 20:10 ff. und in den Kriegserzählungen.” In Studies in Deuteronomy in Honour of C. J. Labuschagne on the Occasion of His 65th Birthday, edited by Florentino García Martínez et al., 197 – 222. VT.S 53. Leiden et al.: Brill, 1994. Oded, Bustenay. “Observations on Methods of Assyrian Rule in Transjordania after the Palestinian Campaign of Tiglat-Pileser III.” JNES 29 (1970): 177 – 86. Otto, Eckart. Deuteronomium 1 – 11: Erster Teilband: 1,1 – 4,43. HThKAT. Freiburg et al.: Herder, 2012. Perlitt, Lothar. Deuteronomium, 1. Teilband: Deuteronomium 1 – 6*. BKAT V/1. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlagsgesellschaft, 2013. Plöger, Josef G. Literarkritische, formgeschichtliche und stilkritische Untersuchungen zum Deuteronomium. BBB 26. Bonn: Hanstein, 1967. Rofé, Alexander. “From Tradition to Criticism: Jewish Sources as an Aid to the Critical Study of the Hebrew Bible.” In Congress Volume Cambridge 1995, edited by John A. Emerton, 235 – 47. VT.S 66. Leiden et al.: Brill, 1997. —. “Biblical Antecedents of the Targumic Solution of Metaphors (Ps 89:41 – 42; Ezek 22:25 – 28; Gen 49:8 – 9,14 – 15).” In The Interpretation of the Bible: The International Symposium in Slovenia, edited by Jože Krašovec, 333 – 38. JSOT.S 289. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1998. —. “Elisha at Dothan (2 Kings 6:8 – 23): Historico-literary Criticism Sustained by the Midrash.” In Ki Baruch Hu: Ancient Near Eastern, Biblical and Judaic Studies in Honor of Baruch A. Levine, edited by Robert L. Chazan et al., 345 – 53. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1999. Rose, Martin. 5. Buch Mose. ZBK.AT 5. Zürich: Theologischer Verlag, 1994. Rüterswörden, Udo. Das Buch Deuteronomium. NSK.AT 4. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 2006. Steuernagel, Carl. Das Deuteronomium. HK 1,3,1. 2nd, rev. edn. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1923. Van Seters, John. “The Conquest of Sihon′s Kingdom. A Literary Examination.” JBL 91 (1972): 182 – 97. —. “Once Again. The Conquest of Sihon′s Kingdom.” JBL 99 (1980): 117 – 19. van Zyl, Albertus H. The Moabites. POS 3. Leiden: Brill, 1960. Veijola, Timo. Das fünfte Buch Mose: Deuteronomium, Kapitel 1,1 – 16,17. ATD 8,1. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2004. Weinfeld, Moshe. Deuteronomy 1 – 11. AB 5. New York et al.: Doubleday, 1991. Wellhausen, Julius. The Pharisees and the Sadducees: An Examination of Internal Jewish History, translated by Mark E. Biddle. Macon, Ga.: Mercer University Press, 2001. Wright, Christopher J. H. Deuteronomy. NIBCOT 4. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1996.

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Deut 2:26 – 32: Sihon Deut :: Seir (Edom) Num : – : Sihon Num : – : Edom

Reinhard Achenbach (Westfälische Wilhelms-Universität Münster)

Bündnisverbot und Mischehenverbot

Zum Banngebot in Deuteronomium 7,1 – 2 und seiner Wirkungsgeschichte¹

I. Bedeutung und Funktion des Banntheorems im Kontext der exilischen und nach-exilischen Mythenbildung über das verheißene Land In Ez 11,14– 25* ist die Debatte zwischen der Jerusalemer Gemeinde und der Exilsgemeinde in der Golah dokumentiert, woraus ersichtlich wird, dass die Bedeutung des babylonischen Exils und die Deutung des Unterganges Judas und Jerusalems in spät-exilischer und nach-exilischer Zeit ausgesprochen kontrovers diskutiert wurde.² Hiernach behaupteten die Bewohner Jerusalems während der Exilszeit, dass die Exulanten ferne von Jhwh weilten, dass daher das Land ihnen als môrāšāh gehöre. Eine Grundlage für diese Auffassung dürfte im Wirken Jeremias zu suchen sein, von dem überliefert wird, er habe heftig vor einer Flucht oder Übersiedlung nach Ägypten gewarnt und den im Lande bleibenden eine bedingte Heilszusage hinterlassen, vgl. Jer 42,10 – 11: Wenn ihr wirklich in diesem Lande wohnen³ bleibt, dann werde ich euch (wieder) auferbauen und nicht (mehr) niederreißen, und dann werde ich euch einpflanzen und nicht (wieder) ausreißen, denn ich lasse mich gereuen des Unheils, das ich euch angetan habe! 11 Fürchtet euch nicht vor dem König von Babel, vor dem ihr euch jetzt fürchtet! Fürchtet euch nicht vor ihm – Spruch Jhwhs – ,

10

 Der Beitrag basiert auf einer älteren Studie mit dem Titel „Götterkriege und Jahwekrieg. Zum altorientalischen und alttestamentlichen Hintergrund religiöser Kriegsideologien“ aus dem Jahre  (ungedruckt). Sie wurde vorgelegt im Zusammenhang mit einer von Gerd Althoff u. a. durchgeführten Tagung an der WWU, Münster, zum Thema „Denkmuster christlicher Legitimation von Gewalt“. Eine überarbeitete englische Fassung ist erschienen unter dem Titel „Divine Warfare and Yhwh’s Wars: Religious Ideologies of War in the Ancient Near East and in the Old Testament.  Pohlmann, Ezechielstudien,  – .  Konjektur, vgl. LXX, Targ, Vulg: ‫( אם ישׁוב תשׁבו בארץ הזאת‬vgl. BHS).

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denn ich bin bei euch, um euch zu helfen und um euch zu erretten aus seiner Hand!

Ein Dokument solcher Selbstbehauptung dürfte die deuteronomistische Fassung der Josuanischen Landnahmeerzählung sein. Sie nutzt neben dem älteren Legendenmaterial über Josuas Eroberungen im ephraimitischen und benjaminitischen Kernland und in der Schephela (Jos 10*; 11,1– 15*) und einer „Königsliste“ (Jos 12,9 – 24) noch vor-exilische Fragmente einer Josua-Landnahmeerzählung,⁴ die allesamt nicht die These einer vollständigen Eroberung des Landes durch Josua belegen, sondern lediglich die Anschauung von einem militärisch erfolgreichen Anführer der Stämme vermitteln. In das Material ist das Motiv einer vollständigen Bannweihe des Landes an Jhwh deutlich sekundär eingetragen worden, wobei auffällig ist, dass die Belege auf Jos 2– 11 beschränkt sind, also vermutlich nicht einmal der ursprünglichen Form der dtr Landnahmeerzählung angehörten (vgl. Jos 2,10; 6,17.18.21; 7,1.11.12.13.15; 8,26; 10,1.28.35.37.39.40; 11,11.12.20.21).⁵ Der Anlass für die Entstehung der Textgestalt der Landnahmeerzählungen wie wir sie in Grundzügen jetzt im Deuteronomium und im Josuabuch finden, ist in den Bedürfnissen der Zeit nach dem Ende der neubabylonischen Herrschaft und in der Zeit der Restauration während der Frühzeit der achämenidischen Übernahme des Reiches zu suchen. Angesichts der Perspektive, dass die Siedler der Golah unter Kyros II. die Möglichkeit erhielten, in das angestammte Kernland zurückzukehren, bedurfte Israel der Reformulierung einer Landnahmeerzählung, die gegenüber den neuen achämenidischen Herrschern die Beanspruchung von Siedlungsrechten in den Provinzen Samaria und Jehud zu begründen vermochte. Anstelle der Vorstellung der Aussonderung einer heiligen Stätte zur Verehrung der Gottheit war nun das Banntheorem als Gründungsmythos für die Annahme der Gegenwart Gottes im heiligen Land getreten. Die Traditionskreise, die den Mythos von der Erwählung der heiligen Stätte durch den der Erwählung des Heiligen Landes ersetzen, intendieren die Integration ganz Israels, also Judas und Samarias! Für die Gemeinde ohne Heiligtum ⁶ blieb in der Form des Landnarrativs das Prinzip, dass das Land insgesamt der Gottheit Jhwh geweiht war, Israel galt somit als ein Jhwh heiliges Volk (Dtn 7,6), dem Abtrünnigen drohte die Verstoßung und der Verlust des Lebens (Dtn 13,16.18; Ex 22,19; vgl. auch Lev

 Zur Rekonstruktion vgl. Römer, Deuteronomistic History,  – ; Kratz, Komposition,  – .  Knauf, Josua,  – .. – . –  u. ö., nimmt an, dass die Eintragung des Motivs erst im Gefolge der Verbindung von Dtn und Bundesbuch Ergebnis dtr und nach-dtr priesterlicher Bearbeitungen ist.  Zu diesem Thema vgl. Middlemas, Templeless Judah.

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27,29). Das Land wird selbst zum Unterpfand der Heilsgegenwart Jhwhs. ⁷ Das deuteronomische Programm von der Erwählung eines Ortes, da Jhwh seinen Namen wohnen lassen will (Dtn 12,14) wird zunächst intern durch dtr Bearbeitung in Dtn 12,8 – 12 neu konnotiert: der erwählte Kultort ist durch seine Erwählung mit der Präsenz Jhwhs dadurch verbunden, als Jhwh ihn mit seinem Namen verbindet: ‫( המקום אשׁר יבחר יהוה אלהיכם בו לשׁכן שׁמו שׁם‬Dtn 12,11a).⁸ Unter Aufnahme der auch im Akkadischen bekannten, traditionellen Formel (šakanu šumšu) tritt anstelle des Tempelgebäudes der religiöse und rechtliche Anspruch auf den Kultort (Dtn 12,11b!). Neben dem Recht auf die Darbringung der Opfer und Kultgaben begründet die Formel aber auch ein Präsenzkonzept. Dieses wird in Dtn 7,1– 2.6 charakteristisch abgewandelt, indem mit der Einführung des Banntheorems der Anspruch der Gottesherrschaft auf das gesamte Gebiet der Provinzen Samaria und Jehud, symbolisch repräsentiert durch die Liste der sieben Völker, ausgedehnt wird. Diese Liste resultiert nicht aus der deuteronomistischen Landnahmedarstellung des Josuabuches, sondern repräsentiert eine dieser übergeordnete Perspektive. Sie benennt die Urbevölkerung des Landes, die in nachexilischer Zeit verschwunden war. Nach der deuteronomistischen Diktion gehörten dazu die „Amoriter“ (vgl. Dtn 1,7.19.20.27.44; 2,24 u. ö.), nach der priesterschriftlichen Ausdrucksweise waren es die Bewohner Kanaans (vgl. Gen 17,8), die von Kanaan abstammten (Gen 9,18.22.25 – 27 u. ö.), beide Überlieferungskomplexe scheinen in die Liste eingegangen zu sein. Die Anwesenheit einer Gruppe nichtisraelitischer Abstammung namens Hittiter (von akk. māt ḫatti) scheint von 2 Sam 11 (Uria, der Hittiter) her angenommen worden zu sein. Die Herkunft und Siedlungsregion der Girgasiter (keilschriftlich Gir-gi-šū) ist unbekannt, die Perisiter werden in Gen 13,7 neben den Kanaanäern in der Region zwischen Bethel und Ai angesiedelt, vermutlich als Bewohner des offenen Landes (vgl. Dtn 3,5).⁹ Die Hiwwiter werden mit der Urbevölkerung Sichems in Verbindung gebracht (vgl. Gen 34,2) und als Untergruppierung der Kanaanäer angesehen (Gen 36,2), die Bezeichnung der früheren Bevölkerung von Jerusalem als „Jebusiter“ hängt vermutlich mit einem „trockenen Platz“ auf dem Südosthügel der Stadt zusammen (vgl. Jos 15,8; Ri 19,10 f.; 1 Chr 11,4 f.). Genealogisch werden diese Völker abgesehen von den ethnisch nicht näher spezifizierten Landbewohnern („Perisiter“) im Zuge

 In der späteren Fortschreibung dieser Theorie im Kontext des Heiligkeitsgesetzes wird daran festgehalten, dass alle Gegenstände, die der Bannweihe unterliegen, der Gottheit und dem Tempel verfallen, vgl. Lev ,; ,.; Num ,; Num .  Dtn , –  wird traditionell später angesetzt als Dtn , – , vgl. Römer, Deuteronomistic History,  – : „An Exilic Reinterpretation of the Concept of Centralization.“  Vgl. Gesenius,  s.v.

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der Bearbeitung der priesterschriftlichen Völkerliste in Gen 10 als Nachkommen Kanaans eingruppiert, vgl. Gen 10,15 – 17:¹⁰ … ‫ ואת החוי‬17 ‫ ואת היבוסי ואת האמרי ואת הגרגשׁי‬16 ‫ וכנען ילד … ואת חת‬15

Zusätzlich ist diese Liste erweitert um die Nennung Sidons als Erstgeborener Kanaans und Eponym für die phönizische Stadt, und die Nennung von fünf weiteren Eponymen für phönizische Städte.¹¹ Die Völkerliste eröffnet demnach eine universalistische Perspektive, die sich im Horizont einer aus priesterschriftlichen und deuteronomistischen Vorstellungen im Zuge der Herausbildung des Hexateuchs ergeben hat. Dtn 18,12b bietet vor diesem Horizont eine Erklärung für das Banngebot: die Hinwendung der Völker zu den „Gräueln“ des Götzendienstes ist der innere Grund für ihre Vertreibung aus dem Land (vgl. auch Dtn 9,4– 5), wobei zugleich Israel die Hinwendung zu den Götzen der Völker untersagt wird (Dtn 12,29 f.). Die genealogische Verankerung der Völkerliste in Gen 10 lässt darüber hinaus den Bann im Sinne eines Völkergerichts im Lichte des NoahBundes erscheinen (Gen 9,1– 7*). Die Legende von der Verfluchung Hams, des Vaters Kanaans, in Gen 9,18 – 27 vertieft diesen Konnex. So erfährt das Theorem des Bannes im Kontext der Landnahmeerzählung nicht allein eine regionale und historische Begrenzung – der Bann sollte einzig und allein im Zuge der Landnahme vollzogen werden – sondern auch eine implizite, aus der Religion entwickelte, „völkerrechtliche“ Begründung: die Hinwendung der Völker zu anderen Göttern war ein Bruch des ursprünglich zur Lebenserhaltung konzipierten NoahBundes. Die Begrenzung des Landes hat in der Selbstbegrenzung des JhwhKrieges durch die Gottheit selbst ihren Grund (Gen 9,8 – 17). Allein das Volk Israel gilt nun als qādōš – heilig für Jhwh (Dtn 7,6)! Die Übertragung der Heiligkeit von der Gottheit, die nach alter Anschauung durch ihren kābōd einen das ganze Erdreich umfassenden Herrschaftsanspruch erhebt und die selbst als in eminentem Maße heilige Himmelsgottheit erscheint (Jes 6,3), nunmehr auf das Volk stellt eine Erweiterung des Präsenzkonzepts dar: überall, wo das Jhwh geheiligte Volk in dem Jhwh geweihten Land lebt, wird demnach die Präsenz Jhwhs zur Geltung gebracht (‫כי עם קדושׁ אתה ליהוה אלהיך‬, Dtn 7,6a). Darum heißt es jetzt, Jhwh habe Israel erwählt. Der Eigentumsanspruch Jhwhs ruht

 Vgl. hierzu Arneth, Durch Adams Fall,  – . – . Einen älteren Ursprung des Materials vermutete Weimar, Untersuchungen,  ff.; eine nicht-priesterschriftliche Grundschicht vermutet Kratz, Komposition, .  Vgl. Levin, Jahwist, , der den Konnex zu den weiteren Nennungen der Völkerliste in Gen , – ; Ex ,.; ,; ,.; ,; ,; Num ,; Dtn ,; ,; Jos ,; ,; ,; , erkannt hat.

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hiernach auf dem Volk (‫בך בחר יהוה אלהיך להיות לו לעם סגלה מכל העמים‬, v. 6b), der Erwählungsgedanke geht vom Tempel und vom Land auf das Volk über. In Dtn 7,1– 2.6 ist also eine Verlagerung der Präsenztheologie gegenüber den vorausgehenden vorexilischen deuteronomischen und exilischen deuteronomistischen Schichten des Buches erkennbar. Der so getroffenen Disposition durch die Gesetzestheologie des Deuteronomiums entspricht die spät-deuteronomistische Gestalt der Landnahmeerzählung des Josuabuches, die in der Zeit des Zweiten Tempels dann noch große Fortschreibungen erfuhr.¹² Der Gedanke eines über Israel bestehenden Ausschließlichkeitsanspruches Jhwhs bestimmt die Darstellung der Landnahme, nach welcher das von Jhwh eroberte Land Israel übereignet wird, Ausdruck dieses religiösen Übereignungsaktes ist die Theorie, die Israeliten hätten an den ehemaligen Bewohnern des Landes den Akt der Bannweihe vollzogen, sie also sämtlich getötet.¹³ Der Bann bleibt jedoch strikt auf die Landnahme begrenzt und ist nicht Teil der weiteren Kriegspraxis. Historisch ist er von Israel nachweislich nicht vollzogen worden, und schon in Jos 9 und Ri 1 wird denn darauf hingewiesen, dass die behauptete Landnahme unvollständig war. In Fortschreibung des aus josianischer Zeit stammenden deuteronomischen Gesetzes entwickelten die Schriftgelehrten Israels zudem eine Perspektive, die für die weitere Entwicklung des Völkerrechts vermutlich einen wichtigen Impuls in sich barg: Es entstand der Gedanke eines Kriegsrechts, an das Israel aufgrund göttlichen Gebotes auch gegenüber den Völkern gebunden war.¹⁴ Dieses legte – in einem Regelwerk – zunächst fest, dass im Falle eines militärischen Vorgehens  Die auf Martin Noth zurückgehende These eines einheitlichen, von Dtn– Kön reichenden sog. deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerks („DtrG“) hat sich in der klassischen Form als nicht haltbar erwiesen. Zur Forschung hierzu vgl. Römer / de Pury, „L’Historiographie Deutéronomiste,“  – ; Scherer, „Geschichtskonzeptionen“ herausgegeben von. Diskutiert werden unterschiedliche Modelle, denen allerdings gemeinsam ist, dass sie mit vor-exilischen Textzyklen bzw. Kompositionen, spät-exilischen Neukonzeptionen unter dem Eindruck der deuteronomistischen Theologie und einer Phase der besonderen Bearbeitung des Deuteronomiums und des Josuabuches im Kontext der Verbindung mit anderen, priesterlichen und nicht-priesterlichen Texten rechnen. Zur Orientierung über die unterschiedlichen Entstehungskonzepte sei verwiesen auf Zenger u. a., Einleitung,  – ; Otto, Deuteronomium im Pentateuch; Kratz, Komposition; Römer, Deuteronomistic History; zu den priesterlichen Bearbeitungen in den Geschichtsbüchern vgl. Achenbach, „Pentateuch“.  Siehe hierzu im Folgenden; dass es sich bei den diesbezüglichen Schilderungen des Josuabuches nicht um historische Berichte handelt, sondern um religiös gefärbte Sagendichtung, sollte mittlerweile Teil allgemeinen Wissensbestandes sein,vgl. Fritz, Entstehung Israels; zu den Grenzen der Auswertung biblischer Texte für die Rekonstruktion der Geschichte Israels vgl. Grabbe, Ancient Israel,  – .  Otto, Deuteronomium im Pentateuch,  – . f.; idem, „Völkerrecht“.

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gegen eine befestigte Stadt allen Kriegshandlungen immer zunächst ein Friedensangebot vorauszugehen hatte (Dtn 20,10 – 14),¹⁵ dass die Plantagen im Umkreise einer Stadt nicht zerstört werden durften, um der Zivilbevölkerung die Lebensgrundlage zu entziehen (Dtn 20,19 – 20)¹⁶ und dass Verbindungen mit kriegsgefangenen Frauen unter Wahrung bestimmter humanitärer Regeln zu erfolgen hatten (vgl. Dtn 21,10 – 14). Hinzu kamen Hygieneregeln für das Kriegslager (Dtn 23,10 – 15). Im Zusammenhang mit der historisierenden Einfügung dieses Gesetzes in den Kontext der Landnahmeerzählung wurde der Aspekt, dass es sich bei jeglichem Krieg um ein im absoluten Vertrauen auf Jhwh zu führendes Ereignis handelte, bei dem die eigene Unterlegenheit auch bewusst in Kauf zu nehmen sein musste, ebenso Rücksicht genommen (20,1– 9) wie auf die Idee der – eben auf die Landnahme begrenzten – Bannweihe (Dtn 20,15 – 18). Die mit dem Alten Testament vornehmlich assoziierte Vorstellung einer Bannweihe ¹⁷ ist zunächst in außerisraelitischen Kontexten belegt. Der Grundgedanke geht vermutlich auf die Absicht zurück, die Beute eines Krieges ganz oder teilweise zu tabuisieren und für die Gottheit (bzw. die von ihr legitimierten Könige oder Funktionäre) zu reservieren. A. Malamat hat darauf aufmerksam gemacht, dass dieses Phänomen (akk. asakkum) schon im Königreich Mari im 18. Jh. v.Chr. nachweisbar ist.¹⁸ Der prominenteste Beleg für diese Praxis im westsemitischen Raum ist die moabitische Mescha-Stele aus dem 9. Jh. v.Chr.¹⁹ 2 Kön 19,11 par Jes 37,11 belegt die Ansicht, dass der Vollzug des Bannes an eroberten Ländern zu den grundlegenden Charakteristika der assyrischen Politik gehörte.²⁰ Die Vorstellung einer strikten Bannweihe (hebr. ḫæræm) durch die Israeliten im Kriege wird, wie oben schon deutlich geworden ist, als Gebot erst im Zuge einer

 Otto, „Völkerrecht,“ , verweist auf die Rezeption dieser Regel in den Annales Fuldenses, bei Thomas v. Aquin (Summa theologica II,II qu. ,) und zu ihrer Zurückweisung bei H. Grotius (De iure belli ac pacis libri tres III,,), mit der Begründung, die „Einladung zum Frieden vor Kriegsbeginn“ sei nicht Teil des Völkerrechts, „da dieses Gebot nur an die Juden ergangen sei.“  Zur Diskussion, in welchem Maße diese Anordnung in Auseinandersetzung mit der assyrischen Praxis steht vgl. Wright, „Warfare and Wanton Destruction“.  Das Thema ist vielfach behandelt worden, ich verweise in Auswahl der Literatur auf: Crüsemann, „Gewaltimagination“; Dietrich, Seiten Gottes,  – ; Lohfink, „‫ ;“ָח ַרם‬idem, „Schichten“; Schäfer-Lichtenberger, „Bedeutung und Funktion“; Brekelmans, Ḥerem.  Malamat, „Ban in Mari“; Weippert, „Heiliger Krieg,“  f.  Erstbearbeitung bei Smend / Socin, Inschrift; Text und Kommentar bei Donner / Röllig, Inschriften, No. ; Wagner, „Mescha / Mescha-Stele“.  Vgl. auch  Chr ,. Der Vorwurf ist relativ singulär, wird aber in Dan , noch einmal gegenüber dem Seleukiden Antiochus IV. erhoben. In  Chr , werden die Ammoniter und Moabiter als Völkerschaften hingestellt, die auf Bann und Vernichtung aus sind. Zur Diskussion um die historischen Hintergründe vgl. Stern, Biblical Ḥerem; Crouch, War and Ethics,  – .

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sekundären historisierenden Bearbeitung des deuteronomistisch gerahmten Gesetzes in Dtn 7,2 eingeführt; hiernach ist ihr Vollzug ausschließlich auf die legendäre Urbevölkerung des verheißenen Landes beschränkt.²¹ Eigens thematisiert wird sie noch einmal in 1 Sam 15: Saul vollzieht den Bann an den Amalekitern nicht, und verstößt damit gegen das göttliche Gebot.²² Die Bannweihe vollzieht sich hiernach in der völligen Vernichtung einer Stadt und ihrer (erwachsenen) Bevölkerung. Alle Wertgegenstände sind der Gottheit (bzw. dem Heiligtum) zu übergeben, derjenige, der sich daran vergreift, verfällt selbst dem Bann und gefährdet das gesamte Volk (Jos 6,18 f.; 7,12.24 ff.). Das Banntheorem wird in dtr Fortschreibung der Theorie des Deuteronomiums von einer göttlichen Forderung ausschließlicher Loyalität gegenüber dem Gott Jhwh (Dtn 13,2– 12*) auch auf eine Stadt angewandt, die sich dem Götzendienst weiht (Dtn 13,16.18).²³ Nach der Durchsetzung des jahwistischen Monotheismus in Israel wird infolge der Exilserfahrung das Lexem an wenigen Stellen auch auf die Sanktionierung der Apostasie Einzelner bezogen (vgl. 1 Kön 20,42; programmatisch: Ex 22,19; Lev 27,29). Das Bewusstsein, dass das Banngebot im Rahmen der Kriegsführung allein für die Epoche der Landnahme Geltung beanspruchen konnte, ist schon bei seiner Formulierung in Verbindung mit der Nennung der Völkerliste erkennbar.²⁴ Israel war sich, wie gesagt, nach Ausweis der eigenen Überlieferungen immer dessen bewusst, dass eine vollständige Eroberung des Landes in Wirklichkeit nie erfolgt war. In einem Nachtrag 1 Kön 9,21 wird darum festgestellt, dass Salomo die Völker, die man nicht habe vertreiben können, zu Fronarbeitern gemacht habe.²⁵ Eine weitergehende Anwendung der Bannvorstellung findet man in den nachexilischen schriftgelehrten Bearbeitungen der Prophetenspruchsammlungen. Jes 43,28 dehnt den Gedanken der Bestrafung durch Bann auf die Bestrafung Israels für seine Abtrünnigkeit von Jhwh aus. Nach dem fiktiven Orakel Jer 25,9 ff. hat Jhwh durch Nebukadnezar den Bann an Juda vollstreckt. Umgekehrt fordert ein Orakel in Jer 50,21– 28 die Vernichtung Babylons und die Vollstreckung des  Vgl. Dtn ,; ,; ,; ,; Jos ,; ,..; ,.... (vgl.  Chr ,); ,; ,.....; ,..; ,; ,.   Sam ,......; vgl. die Zusätze in Ri ,; ,. Die als Beduinen lebenden Amalekiter galten in einer Seitenüberlieferung als Teil der Urbevölkerung im Lande (vgl. Num ,), auf die in der nach-deuteronomistischen Legendenbildung das Banngebot ausgedehnt wurde (vgl. Ex , – ; Dtn ,).  Eckart Otto, Politische Theologie und Rechtsreform,  f.  Deren Erweiterung in Gen , –  ist schriftgelehrten genealogischen Konstruktionen zu verdanken und hat mit historischen Gegebenheiten nicht viel zu tun.   Chr , notiert noch einmal einen Bann, den die Simeoniten zur Zeit Hiskias gegen Beduinen vom Stamm Ham und vom Stamm Meun vollzogen hätten.

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Bannes als Vergeltung für die Hybris, die sich in der Zerstörung des Tempels von Jerusalem gezeigt hat (ähnlich Jer 51,3). Das am Sacrum orientierte Denken der Schriftgelehrten des Zweiten Tempels führt in der religiösen Theorie zu einem mitunter drastischen Rigorismus, der die Narrative und die eschatologischen Texte über den Jhwh-Krieg zunehmend beherrscht und der in der hellenistischrömischen Epoche in der apokalyptischen Literatur seinen Ausdruck findet.²⁶

II. Die narrative Autorisierung des Exogamieverbots im Kontext der Grundtexte des alten und neuen Bundes in Exodus 23 und 34 Die priesterlichen Schriftgelehrten des zweiten Tempels integrierten die deuteronomistische Landnahmedarstellung mit den älteren, vorexilischen Erzählungen über die Exodus- und Mosezeit und stellten ihr die Vätergeschichte und eine das alles alternierende Darstellung der Ursprünge aus der sogenannten Priesterschrift voran. Dabei kam es zu einer Abschwächung der Banntheologie. Sie wurde nicht vom Deuteronomium auf die älteren Quellen des Pentateuch rückwärtig übertragen. Die Erwähnung einer Bannmaßnahme in Num 21,1– 3 ist ein Ausnahmefall, der durch die Ätiologie von Horma bedingt ist, dessen Name mit einem Anklang an das hebr. Wort für Bann, ḫæræm, erklärt wird. Wesentlicher ist, dass das im Kontext der deuteronomistischen Bearbeitung des Deuteronomiums eingeführte Banngebot nicht ausgleichend in die anderen Rechtssatzsammlungen eingeführt wurde. Allerdings gibt es gewichtige Parallelen zu Dtn 7 in der Erzählung von der Bundeserneuerung am Sinai Ex 34 und in einem sekundären Anhang an das sog. Bundesbuch (Ex 20,22– 23,19) in Ex 23,20 – 33.

 Schmitt, Der „Heilige Krieg“,  – , beschreibt diese späte Ausformung der Kriegs-Narrative als „Sakralisierung“.

Bündnisverbot und Mischehenverbot

Dtn 7,1 – 5²⁷ 

Wenn Jahwe, dein Gott, dich in das Land bringt, wohin du kommst, es in Besitz zu nehmen, und dahinfegt viele Völker vor dir, die Hittiter, Girgasiter, Amoriter, Kanaaniter, Perisiter, Hiwwiter und Jebusiter, sieben Völker, die zahlreicher und stärker sind als du,  und Jahwe, dein Gott, gibt sie vor dir dahin, dass du sie schlägst, dann sollst du die Bannweihe an ihnen vollstrecken: Du sollst keinen B u n d mit ihnen schließen und du sollst dich ihrer nicht erbarmen,



und du sollst dich nicht mit ihnen v e r s c h w ä g e r n ; deine Tochter sollst du nicht seinem Sohne geben und seine Tochter sollst du nicht für deinen Sohn nehmen,  weil er deinen Sohn abtrünnig machen wird von

Ex , – 

Ex , – *.b – 



Beachte, was ich (Jahwe) dir heute gebiete: Siehe, ich vertreibe vor dir die Amoriter, Kanaaniter, Hittiter, [Sam. + Girgasiter], Perisiter, Hiwwiter und Jebusiter.





Vgl. v. 

Hüte dich, dass du nicht einen B u n d schließt mit den Bewohnern des Landes, über das du nun kommst, damit dir nicht eine Falle entsteht in deiner Mitte.  Sondern ihr sollt ihre Altäre abreißen und ihre Masseben sollt ihr zerbrechen und ²⁸ Ascheren sollt ihr fällen,  weil du nicht einen anderen Gott verehren sollst, denn Jahwe ist eifersüchtig, sein Name ist „eifersüchtiger Gott“;  damit du nicht einen B u n d schließt mit dem Bewohner des Landes, und sie treiben Hurerei indem sie ihren Göttern nachfolgen und ihren Göttern opfern, dann lädt man dich ein und du isst von seinem Opfer,

95

Siehe, ich sende einen Engel vor dir her …  Hüte dich vor ihm und höre auf seine Stimme …!  Wenn mein Engel vor dir hergeht und dich hinbringt zu den Amoritern, Hittitern, Perisitern, Kanaanitern, Hiwwitern [LXX: Girgasitern, vgl. Sam.] und Jebusitern, und du sollst ihn/sie vertilgen;



du sollst ihre Götter nicht verehren und ihnen nicht dienen, du sollst nicht ihre (religiösen) Praktiken ausüben, sondern du sollst sie niederreißen und ihre Masseben zerbrechen! … b

wenn ich die Bewohner des Landes in eure Hände gebe, und du sie vor dir vertreibst,  dann sollst du nicht mit ihnen oder mit ihren Göttern einen B u n d schließen.  Sie sollen nicht in deinem Lande

 Die literarischen Ergänzungen sind durch unterschiedliche Schrifttypen voneinander abgehoben. Der spät-deuteronomistische Text Dtn , – a recto, die Bearbeitung im Zusammenhang mit der Vorschaltung der Buches Exodus vor das Deuteronomium durch einen Hexateuch-Redaktor in Dtn ,bβ.b. und Ex , –  kursiv, die spätere Bearbeitung in Dtn , – a (erg. v. b) dürfte ungefähr zur gleichen Zeit erfolgt sein wie die Einfügung von Ex , – , der Anhang an das Bundesbuch in Ex , – .b –  dürfte noch später erfolgt sein und hat einen Bezug zu Ri , – ,.  MT: „seine“, siehe BHS.

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Dtn , – ²⁷

Ex , –  

dann nimmst du von seinen Töchtern welche für deine Dann wird der Zorn Jahwes gegen Söhne und seine Töchter treieuch entbrennen und er wird dich ben Hurerei indem sie ihren eilends vernichten! Göttern nachfolgen und veranlassen deine Söhne ebenfalls, Hurerei zu treiben, indem sie ihren Göttern nachfolgen.  Sondern so sollt ihr an ihnen Vgl. v.  handeln: Ihre Altäre sollt ihr abreißen und ihre Masseben sollt ihr zerbrechen und ihre Ascheren sollt ihr fällen und ihre Götterbilder sollt ihr im Feuer verbrennen! mir, so dass sie anderen Göttern dienen.

Ex , – *.b –  wohnen, damit sie dich nicht zur Sünde gegen mich verleiten, wenn du ihren Göttern dienst, so dass es dir zu einer Falle wird.

Aus dem Vergleich der drei Texte, die in unterschiedlichen Phasen der Bearbeitung des Pentateuch entstanden sind, wird deutlich, dass das deuteronomistische Banngebot zunächst dahingehend verstanden wurde, dass es Verträge Israels mit den Völkern des Landes ausschloss (Bundesschlussverbot). Während eine Aufnahme von Einzelnen „Kanaanäern“ als Schutzbürger wie die der Sippe Rahabs und gar der Duldung der Fremden in der Tempelfron wie im Falle der Gibeoniten denkbar blieb, war eine Symmachie oder gar eine Aufnahme der Kanaanäer in den Qahal nicht vorgesehen. Sachlogisch ergänzt daher das Vertragsverbot das Banngebot und zeigt, dass es sich bei dem Banngebot um eine fiktive Konstruktion handelte, die in der Konkretion in dem Ausschluss von Verträgen mündete. Das Verbot, mit den Bewohnern des Landes Bündnisse einzugehen, ist ja unnötig, wenn man sich vorstellt, dass das Banngebot ernstgenommen wird. In seiner jetzigen Position erläutert es das Banngebot und sichert es zugleich ab; dabei steht die Erzählung von der List der Gibeoniten im Hintergrund (Jos 9). In Ex 34,11– 14 ist das Bündnisverbot integraler Bestandteil der Gebote der Bundeserneuerung. Der Verfasser der dtr Parallele zu Ex 34 in Dtn 10,1– 5.10 – 11* hat diesen Text offensichtlich noch nicht gekannt,²⁹ es handelt sich also um eine jüngere Komposition, in der das Bündnisverbot die Bannideologie interpretiert und zugleich deren Reformulierung meidet: das Bündnisverbot ersetzt also das Banntheorem – und wird als dessen Erläuterung in Dtn 7,2b sekundär eingefügt, als das Deuterono-

 Zum Verhältnis zwischen beiden Texten vgl. Achenbach, Verheißung und Gebot,  – . – .

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mium in eine gemeinsame Darstellung mit Gen–Num hineingenommen wird.³⁰ Dem Verfasser geht es um Klarheit in der Ausrichtung Israels auf Jhwh allein. Bundesschlussrituale, die die Möglichkeit eines Schwures im Namen eines anderen Gottes beinhalten, sind von hier aus nicht statthaft (vgl. auch Jos 24), darum ist vermutlich auch das historisierte Gebot des Ikonoklasmus in Dtn 7,5 hinzugekommen. Ex 34,11– 14 verbindet beide Gebote, ja, hier wird das Verbot der Mischehe noch vor das Götzendienstverbot gestellt, was die Genese des ExogamieVerbots erkennen lässt. Faktisch wurde so gleichsam ein entmilitarisiertes Verständnis des Landnahmegedankens für die Generation der nach dem Exil nach Juda und Samaria zurückkehrenden Juden ermöglicht. Umgekehrt war ein Eintritt der nichtisraelitischen Fremden, die innerhalb der jüdischen Gemeinschaft Schutz und Auskommen suchten, in den Bund Israels möglich (vgl. Dtn 29,10 – 12)³¹. Die an das Bundesschlussverbot anknüpfende zweite Interpretation des Banngebots zieht hieraus die Konsequenz für den familiären Bereich, indem es das Bundesschlussverbot konkret auf das Eingehen von Ehen mit den Völkern des Landes bezieht. In einem Zusatz in Dtn 23,2– 9 werden umgekehrt die Zugangs-

 Mit Hilfe der narrativen Konstruktion der Geschichte Israels als einer Geschichte von aufeinander folgenden Bundesschlüssen (Ex ; ; Dtn ) und Bundesbrüchen (Ex ; Num ) und der Idee der Bedingung einer Selbstverpflichtung der in das Land einziehenden Familien zur ausschließlichen Jhwh-Verehrung im Sichembund (Jos ) als Modell wurde für die wieder aus dem Exil nach Juda und Samaria zurückkehrenden Juden ein ideales Geschichtsbild der Frühzeit entworfen, das ihnen zur Deutung ihrer nationalen Geschichte als Schlüssel dienen sollte. Ihnen war ein Bündnis mit im Lande ansässigen Andersgläubigen schlechterdings unmöglich, weil es sie zu einer eidlichen Verpflichtung an andere Götter gebunden hätte. Auf die sehr komplexe literarkritische Diskussion zu Dtn  und den Paralleltexten kann hier nicht ausführlich eingegangen werden, vgl. hierzu Achenbach, Verheißung und Gebot,  – ; mit anderen Ergebnissen Veijola, Deuteronomium,  – ; Konkel, Sünde und Vergebung; Otto, „Deuteronomiumstudien II,“  f. – , der vor allem für das Connubiumsverbot in Dtn ,b gute Gründe für die Annahme einer post-dtr und post-priesterschriftlichen Abfassung vorgetragen hat, s. jetzt auch idem, Deuteronomium  – ,  – .  Braulik, „Völkervernichtung,“ verweist auf die theologische Metaphorisierung des Banntheorems, um dann zur weiteren Bearbeitung des Deuteronomiums zu bemerken ( f.): „Den Vernichtungskriegen gegen Sihon und Og ist jetzt jeder sakrale Glanz und Triumphalismus genommen (, – ). Die ‚Fremden, von den Holzarbeitern bis zu den Wasserträgern‘, letztlich Kanaanäer, treten sogar als Partner Israels dem Jhwh-Bund bei (,) und erhalten die Tora auch als ihre Gesellschaftsordnung (,). Diese Praxis widerspricht dem Gebot der Völkervernichtung und dem Vertragsverbot mit der nichtisraelitischen Bevölkerung Kanaans.“ Dem vorletzten Teil dieser Aussage ist zuzustimmen, der letzte ist m. E. dahingehend zu modifizieren, dass das Bündnisverbot gegenüber den Fremden nach Auffassung des Verfassers von Dtn , –  offenbar nicht ausschloss, dass ein schutzbefohlener Fremder der jüdischen Religion der Verehrung des Bundesgottes beitrat. Achenbach, „Eintritt der Schutzbürger,“ weist den Text einem Hexateuchredaktor zu, der die Bücher Gen–Jos zu einer einheitlichen Schriftrolle verarbeitet hat.

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bestimmungen zur israelitischen Kultusgemeinschaft näher definiert. Das Exogamieverbot nimmt seinen narrativen Ausgangspunkt in der nach-dtr Erweiterung der Erzählung von der List der Moabiterinnen in Baal-Peor Num 25,1– 5*.³² Die Begründung für das Exogamieverbot wird in der Bedrohung der religiösen Identität gesehen. In diesem Sinne interpretiert ein Zusatz in Ex 34,15 – 16 auch das Bundesschlussverbot von vv. 11– 14. Zeitlich vermutlich nicht weit entfernt von der Einfügung in Ex 34 wird das Mischehenverbot in Dtn 7,3 eingeführt. Für den wiederum später als Anhang an das Bundesbuch gefügten Text Ex 23,20 – 33 bietet die Verbindung all dieser Elemente die Voraussetzung; hier wird mit Hinsicht auf Ri 2,1– 5 eine ganz andere Disposition der Landnahmeerzählung getroffen, wonach ein Gottesbote Israel vor den Mischehen stetig warnt³³. Diese späte Legendenbildung dürfte erst in der Zeit um Esra in den Pentateuch Eingang gefunden haben. Die Verfasser vertreten die Ansicht, dass die jüdische Gemeinschaft nur noch durch strikte Vermeidung der Exogamie ihre Identität wahren kann. Darum verfechten sie eine Ablehnung von Mischehen mit Partnern aus nicht an Jhwh gebundenen Ethnien. Gleichzeitig partizipiert diese Haltung an der Radikalität des Banntheorems und transformiert dessen Bedeutung letztlich doch in einen zivilen Bereich. Im Zuge des Prozesses der redaktionellen Einbindung und Neuinterpretation des Themas kommt hinzu, dass die deuteronomistischen Texte mit einer priesterlichen Grunderzählung ganz anderer Art verbunden worden sind. Die aus der Exilszeit stammende Erzählung von der Schöpfung (Gen 1) und der Gründung des Wüstenheiligtums (Ex 25 – 29.40*) der sogenannten Priesterschrift kennt keine Landnahmeerzählung und also auch keine Kriegserzählungen. Ihr Gottesbild ruht in der Idee eines alle Völker einschließenden Friedensbundes Gottes (Gen 9) und eines besonderen Gnadenbundes mit Abraham (Gen 17), dem – so fügen spätere priesterliche Bearbeiter zu – Fremde beitreten können, indem sie sich dem Reinheitsritual der Beschneidung unterziehen (vgl. Ex 12,48 f.). Die Vorordnung dieser Texte und der priesterlichen Sakralordnungen vor die Jhwh-Kriegserzählungen führt zu einer Integration der Bannideologie in eine priesterlich geprägte Neufassung des Narrativs der Ursprünge Israels, allerdings nun in einem rein metaphorisch-theoretischen Sinne.³⁴

 Die dtr Erzählung in Dtn , kannte die Geschichte noch nicht; Dtn , ist später hinzugefügt worden.  Blum, „Knoten,“  –  hat gezeigt, dass es sich bei dem Text um den Teil einer Fortschreibung des Richterbuches handelt, welcher nach der formalen Abtrennung desselben vom Hexateuch eingetragen wurde.  Grundlegend hierzu Lohfink, „Schichten“.

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III. Der historische Ort der politischen Konkretisierung des Banntheorems Die Frage stellt sich, wann das Exogamie-Verbot schriftlich als Explikation des Banngebots im Deuteronomium etabliert wurde. Einen Hinweis gibt der Bericht über eine Selbstverpflichtung von 43 leitenden Männern von Jerusalem und Juda, die laut Neh 10,31 eine öffentliche Selbstverpflichtung (’amānāh) eingegangen sein sollen, mit folgendem Inhalt: Danach gilt: Wir werden unsere Töchter nicht den Völkerschaften des Landes geben, und wir werden ihre Töchter nicht für unsere Söhne (zur Frau) nehmen.

‫ואשר‬ ‫לא־נתן בנתינו לעמי הארץ‬ ‫ואת־בנתיהם לא נקח לבנינו‬

Der Text rechnet mit der Existenz einer ethnisch pluriformen Bevölkerung im Bereich des Landes, das zur Medinah Jehud zählt. Die literarische Verortung der ’a mānāh in der Epoche Nehemias legt somit die Ansicht nahe, dass in der Mitte des 5. Jh.s v.Chr. in der Provinz Jehud eine kulturell und religiös vielfältige Mischung der Bevölkerung anzunehmen ist. Die mit der Zeit verknüpfte sogenannte Memoire oder Denkschrift Nehemias unterstützt diesen Eindruck. Neh 13,23 – 27 konstatiert den Verlust von Sprachkenntnissen und kultureller Identität der Kinder aus sogenannten Mischehen. Nehemia erscheint als politischer Gegner einer Entente der Tempelpriesterschaft mit führenden Familien in der Nachbarprovinz Samaria und verweist den vom Priester Eliaschib im Tempel mit Raum (und also Rechtsansprüchen?) privilegierten Tobia aus dem Tempelbezirk (Neh 13,4– 9). Den Schwiegersohn Sanballats und Sohn des Hohenpriesters Eliaschib Jojada verweist er aus seinem Hause (Neh 13,28). Die Denkschrift lässt allerdings nicht erkennen, dass der Tirschata sich dabei auf die Regularien einer schriftlichen Tora des Mose berufen kann. Vielmehr wird in Texten, die die Verschwägerungen kritisieren, erkennbar, dass die Frage des Einflusses „fremder“ Religiosität als Gefährdung der eigenen Identität empfunden wurde und dass er damit verhindern wollte, dass man mit der Mischehe Ansprüche auf Landbesitz verknüpfte oder gar Einflussnahme im Tempelbereich. Die Verzeichnung des nahezu gleichlautenden Mischehenverbots in Dtn 7,3 ist zeitlich demnach in der Nähe zu der Formulierung der ’a mānāh anzusetzen, ihre Rezeption in Ex 34 und 23 gehört demnach vermutlich in die Phase der schriftgelehrten Bearbeitung des Hexateuch im ausgehenden 5. Jh.

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v.Chr.!³⁵ Während Dtn 7,3 einen Reflex auf die spät-dtr Erzählung in Ri 3,6 bildet, stellt Ex 34 eine Rückprojektion des Deuteronomiums in dieser Hinsicht dar. Das Vertragsverbot wird jetzt eindeutig auf Eheverträge hin interpretiert, wie wir sie aus Elephantine oder Āl Jāhūdu kennen. Das Exogamieverbot wird nun gar in Ex 34,11– 16 zum ersten Gebot des Neuen Bundes vom Sinai, eine Radikalisierung besonderer Art, die mit einem kulturellen und politischen Gesetz des interethnischen Umgangs im Achämenidenreich bewusst bricht, um den eigenen, monolatrischen Kultus freizuhalten von Einflüssen und Zugriffen anderer, womöglich beherrschender ethnischer oder kultureller Kräfte, und um die eigene ethnische Identität zu schützen. Im Nehemiabuch wird dieses Motiv wieder aufgenommen. Dtn 7,2b.3 – 4

Ri , 2

Neh ,b 15

‫… לא־תכרת להם ברית‬ ‫ולא־תחנם‬

‫פן־תכרת ברית ליושב‬ ‫הארץ‬ … ‫וזנו אחרי אלהיהם‬

‫ ולא תתחתן בם‬3 ‫בתך לא־תתן לבנו‬

‫ ויקחו את־בנותיהם להם‬6 ‫לנשים‬ ‫ואת־בנותיהם נתנו לבניהם ובתו לא־תקח לבנך‬ ‫ כי־יסיר את־בנך מאחרי‬4 ‫ועבדו אלהים אחרים‬ ‫וחרה אף־יהוה בכם‬ ‫והשמידך מהר‬

Ex , – 

‫ ואשביעם באלהים‬25

‫ ולקחת מבנתיו לבניך‬16 ‫אם־תתנו בנתיכם לבניהם‬ ‫ואם־תשׂאו מבנתיהם לבניכם וזנו בנתיו אחרי אלהיהן‬ ‫ולכם‬ ‫והזנו את־בניך אחרי‬ ‫אלהיהן‬

‫ויעבדו את־אלהיהם‬

Ex 23,31– 33 und Ri 2,1– 5 gehen davon aus, dass ursprünglich das Verheißungsland den gesamten Bereich der persischen Provinz Transeufratene umfasst habe („vom Schilfmeer bis zum Meer der Philister und von der Wüste bis zum EufratStrom“, v. 31), dass aber die Israeliten sich schon dadurch versündigt hätte, dass sie sich den alten Religionen angeschlossen hätten (eine ferne Erinnerung an den jahrhundertelang währenden Synkretismus in Israel und Juda). Darum seien eben von Anbeginn an fremde Völker gleichsam als Strafe Gottes im Lande geblieben und sei die Landnahme nie vollkommen gelungen.

 Blum, Studien,  – . – , hat schon die Argumente gegen eine vorexilische Datierung von Ex , f. vorgetragen; siehe hierzu auch Achenbach, Verheißung und Gebot,  – ; idem, „Warfare“. Zur neueren Forschungsdiskussion vgl. den von Christian Frevel herausgegebenen Band Mixed Marriages: Intermarriage and Group Identity in the Second Temple Period, darin idem, „Discourse on Intermarriage“; Grätz, „Question“; Lange, „Hellenistic Religious Reforms“.

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Bemerkenswert an der Überlieferung von der ’amānāh in Neh 10 ist nun, dass diese auch den Handel mit den fremden Bevölkerungen des Landes am Sabbat und an „heiligen Tagen“ ausschließt (Neh 10,32a), und darüber hinaus die Selbstverpflichtung enthält, das Brachejahr bei der Landbebauung einzuhalten und einen Schuldenerlass im siebten Jahr durchzuführen (Neh 10,32b), einen halben Schekel für den Tempel abzuführen (Neh 10,33) und den Opferkult mit Holz zu versorgen (Neh 10,35), sowie die Erstlingsgaben darzubringen (Neh 10,36.37b) und den Tempel nicht zu vernachlässigen (Neh 10,40). All diesen Texten entspricht keine Vorschrift in der Tora des vorfindlichen Pentateuch.³⁶ Die Behauptung der literarischen Fortschreibungen des Textes, die vermutlich im Zuge der redaktionell sekundären Verankerung der ’amānāh im Kontext der Nehemia-Denkschrift erfolgt ist, dass man sich den Verpflichtungen der Mosetora unterworfen habe, legt demnach eine andere Version der Mosetora zugrunde als die des Pentateuchs! Die Hintergründe von Neh 10 sind nicht in Gänze auszuleuchten. Man gewinnt jedoch den Eindruck, dass es den Bürgern Jerusalems und der Priesterschaft darum ging, durch konsequente Besiedlung der Stadt, Eingrenzung des heiligen Bezirks und Verbot der Exogamie auf dem Wege des Erbrechts die sakralrechtlichen Ansprüche auf die das heilige Land repräsentierende heilige Stadt zu sichern. Eine Ausdehnung dieser Verpflichtung auf das Umland war anscheinend noch nicht durchsetzbar, eine generelle Bundesverpflichtung aller Judäer und Israeliten im Sinne von Exodus 34 war zur Zeit der Verkündung der ’amānāh nicht in Geltung. Es liegt aber die Annahme nahe, dass die Problematisierung der Exogamie seit der Mitte des 5. Jahrhunderts in Juda zugenommen hat.

IV. Die sakralrechtliche Kanonisierung und die Universalisierung des Banntheorems Die spät-nachexilische Priesterordnung des Zweiten Tempels legt fest, dass Gegenstände oder Ländereien, welche durch eine Bannweihe betroffen werden, an den Hohenpriester zu übergeben seien (Num 18,14; Ez 44,29; Lev 27,21.28). Hierbei handelt es sich zunächst um fiktionale Gesetze, die aus der Systematik einer den Pentateuch mehr und mehr bestimmenden Theorie der Heiligkeit und Reinheit Israels und der daraus resultierenden sakralen Sühnerituale geprägt wurde. Das in Num 1– 4 beschriebene Kriegslager, das die priesterlichen Bearbeiter des Numeribuches in spät-persischer Zeit entworfen haben, ist zugleich ein Abbild der um das Heiligtum geordnet lagernden Stämme Israels. Die legendäre Erzählung vom  Schunck, Nehemia, ; Reinmuth, Bericht Nehemias,  – ; idem, „Reform und Tora“.

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Jhwh-Krieg gegen die Midianiter in Num 31 ist eine Lehrerzählung über toragemäßes Verhalten – dass das Gottesvolk sich allein auf das Wirken seines Gottes zu verlassen lernen soll und nicht auf seine eigene Macht und über die Reinigung der erbeuteten Gegenstände für die Darbringung am Heiligtum.³⁷ Durch priesterliche schriftgelehrte Bearbeitung fand ein an den Maßstäben des Heiligtums orientierter Gebrauch des Begriffs Eingang auch in das prophetische Schrifttum. Nach Jes 34,2.5 droht Jhwh, den Bann an Edom und an den Völkerschaften zu vollstrecken, die sich gegen das Heiligtum am Zion vergangen haben. Hier handelt es sich um einen der spätesten Texte des Jesajabuches. Mi 4,13 kündigt der „Tochter Zion“ an, sie werde zahlreiche Völker „zermalmen“ und ihr Gut Jhwh, dem „Herrn der ganzen Welt“, durch Bannweihe weihen. Eine relativ späte Anwendung des Gedankens findet sich schließlich in Ez 26,5.14, wo die (teilweise) Zerstörung von Tyrus (durch Alexander d. Gr. 332 v.Chr.) im Sinne eines Bannes interpretiert wird, für dessen Begründung der Text gleichermaßen auf die Zerstörung Jerusalems verweist (vgl. Ez 26,2 f.). In den Psalmen der nachexilischen Zeit, in welchen der einstigen Schmach Jerusalems in der Eroberung durch heidnische Völker gedacht wird, wie etwa in Ps 79, wird das Blutvergießen in Jerusalem in der Linie der sakralen Sühnetheologien als Befleckung interpretiert und die Bestrafung der frevelhaften Völkerschaften gefordert.³⁸ Dagegen steht allerdings auch die Hoffnung auf eine Bekehrung und Befriedung der Völkerwelt. Sach 14,9 entwirft die Vision einer Heilszeit, in der kein Bann mehr Jerusalem bedroht. Mal 3,24 sieht allerdings als Voraussetzung dafür, dass Gott nicht wieder kommt, um das Land mit dem Bann zu schlagen, die Bekehrung und Einheit der Israeliten. In den späten alttestamentlichen Texten ist also eine theoretische Sakralisierung der Gotteskriegsvorstellungen zu konstatieren, welche sich unter den Bedingungen einer politischen Depotenzierung ihrer priesterlichen Verfasser erst entfaltet hat. Für die Jhwh-Kriegsdarstellung der aus spät-achämenidischer oder ptolemäischer Zeit stammenden Texte der Chronikbücher ist die strenge theologische Neuausrichtung in der Beschreibung des Königtums maßgeblich, denn die Geschichte des Tempels bildet den Schwerpunkt der Darstellung. Dabei fließen die überkommenen traditionellen Motive ein, die man mit dem Erfolg eines Königs verbindet, der „den Thron Jhwhs“ (1 Chr 17,14; 28,5 u. ö.) einnimmt: Gott gewährt ihm Ruhe vor den Feinden, Sieg im Kriege, Wohlstand und ermöglicht den Tem-

 Hierzu vgl. Achenbach, Vollendung der Tora,  – . – .  Zur Interpretation vgl. Emmendörffer, Der ferne Gott,  – ; Hossfeld / Zenger, Psalmen,  – .

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pelbau usw. Für die Schilderung des Krieges durch die Verfasser der Chronik hat Gerhard von Rad eine klassisch gewordene Beschreibung geboten:³⁹ „In der Erzählung von dem Krieg Josaphats gegen die Ostvölker (2. Chron. 20,1– 30) kehren die alten Elemente in geradezu paradigmatischer Vollständigkeit wieder, aber in welcher geistlichen Sublimierung! Noth hat als geschichtlichen Kern der Erzählung einen Einfall eines Nabatäerhaufens in die Weidegebiete judäischer Dörfer südlich von Bethlehem wahrscheinlich gemacht; der Erzähler konstruiert daraus eine Bedrohung, in der es um Sein oder Nichtsein des Staates Juda ging. Der König greift aber nicht zu den Waffen, sondern appelliert in einem Fastengottesdienst durch eine Berufung auf die Heilsgeschichte an Jahwes Hilfe (V. 4– 13). Ein inspirierter Levit gebietet den Judäern, sich nicht zu fürchten; nicht ihrer, sondern Jahwes sei der Kampf (V. 14– 17). Vor dem Kampf hält der König eine Kriegspredigt, in der er das Heer auf den Glauben verweist (V. 20). Dann werden die Sänger im heiligen Ornat vor die Schlachtreihen der Gewappneten gestellt. Als die eben mit ihrem Lobpreis begonnen hatten, fielen ‚Auflauerer’ […], also irgendwelche übersinnlichen Mächte, über die Feinde her, die sich in der entstandenen Panik gegenseitig umbringen, sodass die Judäer keinen Schwertstreich führen.Von einer Bannung ist nichts berichtet, stattdessen fand ein Dankgottesdienst noch am Ort des Sieges statt. Über die Feinde Judas aber war ein Gottesschrecken gefallen.“

Unter den Ptolemäern tritt der Aspekt des Völkerfriedens in den Vordergrund, es entstehen Texte, welche die Idee eines vom Zion ausgehenden universalen Friedensreiches verkünden,⁴⁰ das durch die Tora Jhwhs regiert wird. Die letzten Bearbeitungen des Jesajabuches sahen in der vom Zion ausgehenden Tora eine mögliche Grundlage für eine solche Friedensordnung für die Völker (vgl. Jes 2,2– 4; 51,4 f.; Ps 46,7– 10).⁴¹ Dem gleichermaßen tragischen wie glücklichen

 von Rad, Der Heilige Krieg,  f.  Über die Hintergründe der Entwicklung solcher Friedenskonzeptionen in der Reflexion der Exilserfahrung vgl. Krüger, „Frieden ohne Kriegführung“.  Ps , – : „Es toben die Völker, es wanken Königreiche, er erhebt seine Donnerstimme. Jhwh der Heerscharen ist mit uns, der Gott Jakobs ist unsere Burg. Kommt und seht die Wundertaten Jhwhs, der Erstaunliches auf Erden vollbringt, der die Kriege abschafft bis an die Enden der Welt, den Bogen zerbricht er und den Spieß zerschlägt er, die Schilde verbrennt er im Feuer!“ Otto, Krieg und Frieden, , zu Jes , – : „Der Gedanke der Einrichtung einer internationalen Schiedsgerichtsbarkeit, die von den Völkern allein aufgrund der Überzeugungskraft der Idee freiwillig akzeptiert werde, ermöglicht es nun tatsächlich, Konflikterfahrungen in der Völkerwelt mit der Pazifizierung der internationalen Politik zu vermitteln. Damit können nun über Ps  hinaus auch die Völker selbst zu Subjekten des Demilitarisierungsprozesses werden. Ist es in Ps  Gott, der die Waffen vernichtet, angesichts dessen den Völkern nur die Einsicht in die Wirkungslosigkeit ihres kriegerischen Tuns bleiben soll, sind in Jes ,b die Völker selbst Subjekte des Geschehens, die auf militärische Gewaltanwendung verzichten, das Kriegshandwerk nicht mehr erlernen und die Waffen für die friedliche Nutzung in der Landwirtschaft umrüsten.“ Vgl. weiterhin Kunz, Ablehnung des Krieges.

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Umstand, dass Israel seit Josias Scheitern bis in die Makkabäerzeit hinein alle Waffen aus der Hand genommen waren, ist es wohl zu verdanken, dass die altorientalische Sprache der Gewalt durch machtvolle Visionen eines universalen Friedensreiches konterkariert wurde. Diese stammen aus einer sich selbst in einer eschatologischen Perspektive als heiliger Rest des erwählten Volkes verstehenden Gemeinschaft, die den das Achämenidenreich wie das Hellenistische Reich erschütternden imperialen Kriegsgeschehnissen die Idee einer pazifistischen, torafrommen Existenz entgegenzusetzen vermochte. Durch sie wurde die kritische Selbstreflexion der jüdischen und der christlichen Religionsgemeinschaften hinsichtlich latent vorhandener Gewaltpotentiale mit der Autorität einer kanonisch gewordenen Position ermöglicht⁴² – freilich, wie die Geschichte gezeigt hat und zeigt, um den Preis des stets neuen Scheiterns an der Realität menschlichen Machtstrebens.⁴³ Förderte der militärische Erfolg der Makkabäer eine gewisse Entsakralisierung, insofern z. B. deutlich wurde, dass im Verlauf eines Krieges die Sabbat- und Reinheitsgebote nur eingeschränkt einzuhalten waren, so bedeutete andererseits der programmatische Versuch der Qumrangemeinschaft, das faktische Verhalten im Kriege unter sakrale Bedingungen zu stellen, deren Untergang. So ist denn auch in der Geschichte der christlichen religiösen Legitimation kriegerischen Verhaltens das kritische Potenzial der religiösen und ethischen Delegitimation aus den jüdisch-alttestamentlichen Wurzeln stets virulent geblieben. Das Bedürfnis selbst säkularer Staaten nach religiös-ritueller Absicherung und Legitimation von kriegerischen Handlungen durch das Heraufbeschwören göttlichen Beistands hingegen wird sich, zumal angesichts des immens gewachsenen Vernichtungspotenzials moderner Kriegsführung, weder im Namen  Neben dem für die christliche Bellizistik grundlegenden „Ur-Sündenfall“ der konstantinischen Wende und Augustinus’ Theorie vom gerechten Krieg hat es in der Auslegung der Kriegstexte des Alten Testaments seit Ambrosius von Mailand und Gregor dem Großen auch eine Tradition der spirituell-metaphorischen Deutung gegeben, die dann in kritische Distanz gegenüber den jeweiligen Herrschern gebracht werden konnte. Man vgl. beispielsweise die Deutung des Gebots der Vernichtung der Amalekiter als eine Anleitung zur Askese unter dem Aspekt der Forderung des Gehorsams gegenüber Gott in Gregors Kommentar zu  Sam  (Gregor, Expositio, V, ff.).  Hinsichtlich der Wirkungsgeschichte alttestamentlicher Kriegsschilderungen in der nachaugustinischen Tradition bestehen zahlreiche Forschungslücken; eine erste Orientierung gibt Angenendt, Toleranz und Gewalt,  – , zum Thema „Religion und Krieg“; vgl. die dort angegebene Literatur. Zur Aufnahme alttestamentlicher Kriegsideologien durch die gregorianische Kreuzzugspropaganda vgl. den Beitrag von Althoff, „Selig sind, die Verfolgung ausüben“. Ein Beispiel dafür bietet die Etablierung eines Makkabäer-Kultes in Köln, in welchem einerseits die Leidensbereitschaft der  Jünglinge und ihrer Mutter unter Antiochus IV. betont wurde (Schreiner, Märtyrer, Schlachtenhelfer, Friedensstifter,  – . ff.), andererseits der Mut des Judas Makkabäus, der mit einer kleinen Schar ein großes Heer von Gottlosen besiegte ( Makk , – ) und so den Kreuzrittern als Vorbild galt (Richtscheid, „Kreuzfahrer als novi Machabei“).

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des Judentums noch im Namen des Christentums ungebrochen auf eine Repristination durch biblische Quellen berufen können.

Bibliographie Achenbach, Reinhard. Israel zwischen Verheißung und Gebot: Literarkritische Untersuchungen zu Deuteronomium 5 – 11. EHS.T 23/422. Frankfurt a.M. u. a.: Lang, 1991. —. Die Vollendung der Tora: Studien zur Redaktionsgeschichte des Numeribuches im Kontext von Hexateuch und Pentateuch. BZAR 3. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2003. —. „Der Pentateuch, seine theokratischen Bearbeitungen und Josua – 2 Könige.“ In Les dernières rédactions du Pentateuque, de l’Hexateuque et de l’Ennéateuque, herausgegeben von Thomas Römer / Konrad Schmid, 225 – 254. BETL 203. Leuven: Peeters, 2007. —. „Der Eintritt der Schutzbürger in den Bund (Dtn 29,10 – 12). Distinktion und Integration von Fremden im Deuteronomium.“ In „Gerechtigkeit und Recht zu üben“ (Gen 18,19): Studien zur altorientalischen und biblischen Rechtsgeschichte, zur Religionsgeschichte Israels und zur Religionssoziologie, Festschrift für Eckart Otto zum 65. Geburtstag, herausgegeben von idem / Martin Arneth, 240 – 255. BZAR 13. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2009. —. „Divine Warfare and Yhwh’s Wars: Religious Ideologies of War in the Ancient Near East and in the Old Testament.“ In The Ancient Near East in the 12th–10th Centuries BCE: Culture And History, Proceedings of the International Conference Held at the University of Haifa, 25 May, 2010, herausgegeben von Gershon Galil u. a., 1 – 26. AOAT 392. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2012. Althoff, Gerd. „Selig sind, die Verfolgung ausüben“: Päpste und Gewalt im Hochmittelalter. Stuttgart: Theiss, 2013. Angenendt, Arnold. Toleranz und Gewalt: Das Christentum zwischen Bibel und Schwert. Münster: Aschendorff, 2007. Arneth, Martin. Durch Adams Fall ist ganz verderbt …: Studien zur Entstehung der alttestamentlichen Urgeschichte. FRLANT 217. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2007. Blum, Erhard. Studien zur Komposition des Pentateuch. BZAW 189. Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 1990. —. „Der kompositionelle Knoten am Übergang von Josua zu Richter. Ein Entflechtungsvorschlag.“ In Deuteronomy and Deuteronomic Literature: Festschrift C.H.W. Brekelmans, herausgegeben von Marc Vervenne / Johan Lust, 181 – 212. BETL 133. Leuven: Peeters, 1997 (Repr. in Textgestalt und Komposition: Exegetische Beiträge zu Tora und Vordere Propheten, herausgegeben von idem / Wolfgang Oswald, 249 – 280. FAT 69. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010). Braulik, Georg. „Die Völkervernichtung und die Rückkehr Israels ins Verheißungsland: Hermeneutische Bemerkungen zum Buch Deuteronomium.“ In Studien zum Deuteronomium und seiner Nachgeschichte, 113 – 152. SBAB 33. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 2001. Brekelmans, Christianus H.W. De ḥerem in het Oude Testament. Nijmegen: Centrale Drukkerij, 1959.

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Crouch, Carly L. War and Ethics in the Ancient Near East: Military Violence in Light of Cosmology and History. BZAW 407. Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 2009. Crüsemann, Frank. „Gewaltimagination als Teil der Ursprungsgeschichte: Banngebot und Rechtsordnung im Deuteronomium.“ In Religion, Politik und Gewalt: Kongressband des XII. Europäischen Kongresses für Theologie, 18.–22. September 2005 in Berlin, herausgegeben von Friedrich Schweitzer, 343 – 360. VWGTh 29. Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 2006. Dietrich, Walter. Die dunklen Seiten Gottes. Bd. 1, Willkür und Gewalt. 4. Auflage. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 2002. Donner, Herbert / Röllig, Wolfgang. Kanaanäische und Aramäische Inschriften. 3. Auflage. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1971 – 1976. Emmendörffer, Michael. Der ferne Gott: Eine Untersuchung der alttestamentlichen Volksklagelieder vor dem Hintergrund der mesopotamischen Literatur. FAT 21. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1998. Frevel, Christian. „The Discourse on Intermarriage in the Hebrew Bible.“ In Mixed Marriages: Intermarriage and Group Identity in the Second Temple Period, herausgegeben von idem, 1 – 14. LHB 547. London / New York: T&T Clark, 2011. Fritz, Volkmar. Die Entstehung Israels im 12. und 11. Jahrhundert v. Chr. BE(S) 2. Stuttgart u. a.: Kohlhammer, 1996. Grabbe, Lester L. Ancient Israel: What Do We Know and How Do We Know It? London / New York: T&T Clark, 2007. Grätz, Sebastian. „The Question of ‘Mixed Marriages’ (Intermarriage): The Extra-Biblical Evidence.“ In Mixed Marriages: Intermarriage and Group Identity in the Second Temple Period, herausgegeben von Christian Frevel, 192 – 204. LHB 547. London / New York: T&T Clark, 2011. Gregor der Große. Expositio in librum primum regum, herausgegeben von Pierre-Patrick Verbraken. CCSL 144. Turnhout: Brepols, 1963. Hossfeld, Frank-Lothar / Zenger, Erich. Psalmen 51 – 100. HThKAT. Freiburg u. a.: Herder, 2000. Knauf, Ernst A. Josua. ZBK.AT 6. Zürich: Theologischer Verlag, 2008. Konkel, Michael. Sünde und Vergebung: Eine Rekonstruktion der Redaktionsgeschichte der hinteren Sinaiperikope (Exodus 32 – 34) vor dem Hintergrund aktueller Pentateuchmodelle. FAT 58. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008. Kratz, Reinhard G. Die Komposition der erzählenden Bücher des Alten Testaments: Grundwissen der Bibelkritik. UTB 2157. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000. Krüger, Thomas. „Der Weg zu einer Konzeption von Frieden ohne Kriegführung in der hebräischen Bibel.“ In Krieg – Gesellschaft – Institutionen: Beiträge zu einer vergleichenden Kriegsgeschichte, herausgegeben von Burkhard Meißner u. a., 117 – 134. Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, 2005. Kunz, Andreas. Ablehnung des Krieges: Untersuchungen zu Sacharja 9 und 10. HBS 17. Freiburg u. a.: Herder, 1998. Lange, Armin. „Mixed Marriages and the Hellenistic Religious Reforms.“ In Mixed Marriages: Intermarriage and Group Identity in the Second Temple Period, herausgegeben von Christian Frevel, 205 – 219. LHB 547. London / New York: T&T Clark, 2011. Levin, Christoph. Der Jahwist. FRLANT 157. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1993. Lohfink, Norbert. „‫ׇח ַרם‬.“ In ThWAT 3, 192 – 213. Stuttgart u. a.: Kohlhammer, 1982.

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—. „Die Schichten des Pentateuch und der Krieg.“ In Gewalt und Gewaltlosigkeit im Alten Testament, herausgegeben von Ernst Haag u. a., 51 – 110. QD 96. Freiburg u. a.: Herder, 1983. Malamat, Abraham. „The Ban in Mari and the Bible.“ In Biblical Essays: Proceedings of the 9th Meeting of „Die Ou-Testamentiese Werkgemeenskap van Suid-Afrika“ (1966), 40 – 49. Potchefstroom: Potchefstroom Herald, 1967. Middlemas, Jill A. The Troubles of Templeless Judah. OTM. Oxford / New York: Oxford University Press, 2005. Otto, Eckart. Das Deuteronomium: Politische Theologie und Rechtsreform in Juda und Assyrien. BZAW 284. Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 1999. —. Krieg und Frieden in der Hebräischen Bibel und im Alten Orient: Aspekte für eine Friedensordnung in der Moderne. ThFr 18. Stuttgart u. a.: Kohlhammer, 1999. —. Das Deuteronomium im Pentateuch und Hexateuch: Studien zur Literaturgeschichte von Pentateuch und Hexateuch im Lichte des Deuteronomiumrahmens. FAT 30. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2000. —. „Völkerrecht in der Hebräischen Bibel und seine altorientalischen Wurzeln.“ ZAR 12 (2006), 29 – 51. —. „Deuteronomiumstudien II: Deuteronomistische und postdeuteronomistische Perspektiven in der Literaturgeschichte von Deuteronomium 5 – 11.“ ZAR 15 (2009), 65 – 215. —. Deuteronomium 1 – 11. Bd. 2, 4,44 – 11,32. HThKAT. Freiburg u. a.: Herder, 2012. Pohlmann, Karl-Friedrich. Ezechielstudien: Zur Redaktionsgeschichte des Buches und zur Frage nach den ältesten Texten. BZAW 202. Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 1992. —. Das Buch des Propheten Hesekiel (Ezechiel). Bd. 1, Kapitel 1 – 19. ATD 22,1. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1996. Reinmuth, Titus. „Reform und Tora bei Nehemia. Neh 10,31 – 40 und die Autorisierung der Tora in der Perserzeit.“ ZAR 7 (2001), 287 – 317. —. Der Bericht Nehemias: Zur literarischen Eigenart, traditionsgeschichtlichen Prägung und innerbiblischen Rezeption des Ich-Berichts Nehemias. OBO 183. Fribourg: Universitätsverlag, 2002. Richtscheid, René. „Die Kreuzfahrer als novi Machabei: Zur Verwendungsweise der Makkabäermetaphorik in chronikalischen Quellen der Rhein- und Maaslande zur Zeit der Kreuzzüge.“ In Campana pulsante convocati: Festschrift anläßlich der Emeritierung von Prof. Dr. Alfred Haverkamp, herausgegeben von Frank G. Hirschmann / Gerd Mentgen, 473 – 486. Trier: Kliomedia, 2005. Römer, Thomas C. The So-called Deuteronomistic History: A Sociological, Historical and Literary Introduction. London / New York: T&T Clark, 2005. Römer, Thomas / de Pury, Albert. „L’Historiographie Deutéronomiste (HD): Histoire de la recherche et enjeux du débat.“ In Israël construit son histoire: L’historiographie deutéronomiste à la lumière des recherché récentes, herausgegeben von Albert de Pury u. a., 9 – 120. MoBi(G) 34. Genf: Labor et Fides, 1996. Schäfer-Lichtenberger, Christa. „Bedeutung und Funktion von Herem in biblisch-hebräischen Texten.“ BZ 38 (1994), 270 – 275. Scherer, Andreas. „Neuere Forschungen zu alttestamentlichen Geschichtskonzeptionen am Beispiel des deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerks.“ VF 53 (2008), 22 – 40.

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Schmitt, Rüdiger. Der „Heilige Krieg“ im Pentateuch und im deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerk. Studien zur Forschungs-, Rezeptions- und Religionsgeschichte von Krieg und Bann im Alten Testament. AOAT 381. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2011. Schreiner, Klaus. Märtyrer, Schlachtenhelfer, Friedensstifter: Krieg und Frieden im Spiegel mittelalterlicher und frühneuzeitlicher Heiligenverehrung. Otto-von-Freising-Vorlesungen der Katholischen Universität Eichstätt 18. Opladen: Leske + Budrich, 2000. Schunck, Klaus-Dietrich. Nehemia: Neh 7,72b–11,36. BKAT 23/2,4. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 2006. Smend, Rudolf / Socin, Albert. Die Inschrift des Königs Mesa von Moab. Freiburg: Mohr, 1886. Stern, Philip D. The Biblical Ḥerem: A Window on Israel’s Religious Experience. BJSt 211. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1991. Veijola, Timo. Das fünfte Buch Mose: Deuteronomium, Kapitel 1,1 – 16,17. ATD 8,1. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2004. von Rad, Gerhard. Der Heilige Krieg im alten Israel. 5. Auflage. AThANT 20. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1969. Wagner, Thomas. „Mescha / Mescha-Stele.“ In Das Wissenschaftliche Bibellexikon im Internet (www.wibilex.de), 2006 (letzter Zugriff: 31. 1. 2014). Weimar, Peter. Untersuchungen zur Redaktionsgeschichte des Pentateuch. BZAW 146. Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 1977. Weippert, Manfred. „‚Heiliger Krieg’ in Israel und Assyrien. Kritische Anmerkungen zu Gerhard von Rads Konzept des ‚Heiligen Krieges im Alten Israel’.“ ZAW 84 (1972), 460 – 493 (Repr. in idem: Jahwe und die anderen Götter: Studien zur Religionsgeschichte des antiken Israel in ihrem syrisch-palästinischen Kontext, 71 – 97. FAT 18. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997). Wright, Jacob L. „Warfare and Wanton Destruction: A Reexamination of Deuteronomy 20:19 – 20 in Relation to Ancient Siegecraft.“ JBL 127 (2008), 423 – 458. Zenger, Erich u. a. Einleitung in das Alte Testament. KStTh 1,1. 7. Auflage. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2008.

Reinhard G. Kratz (Georg-August-Universität Göttingen)

Law and Narrative in Deuteronomy and the Temple Scroll* For the first session of this new group in EABS on Law and Narrative the two organizers, Dr. Christoph Berner and Dr. Harald Samuel, chose the topic of war as a sort of test case for their project. Thus, I have decided to take a look at the laws regulating warfare in the Temple Scroll and their biblical Vorlage in the Pentateuch. However, in the following I will not deal with the individual regulations concerning warfare as such—this will be the subject of other papers. Instead, I will take the regulations of warfare as point of departure for the wider subject of law and narrative in Deuteronomy and the Temple Scroll. Following the principles of this group to aim at integrating the early reception of biblical texts into biblical exegesis, I will begin with the Temple Scroll.¹

I. The Temple Scroll consists not only of law but also of narrative. Taken as a unity, the scroll presents itself as the revelation on Mount Sinai using Exod 34 (including Deut 7:25 f.) as the model for the narrative setting. Within this setting, the instructions for the building of the temple, the courtyards and the other areas of the holy city from Exod 25 – 40 and the laws of (Leviticus, Numbers and especially) Deuteronomy are paraphrased, rearranged, and supplemented. Thus, the Temple Scroll is a rewriting of the legal material within a certain narrative framework taken from the sacred history of the Hebrew Bible. To this narrative framework belongs also the scenario of communication. The instructions and legislations are presented mainly in a divine speech, which is to be expected for the legal material from Exodus to Numbers but is surprising for the material from Deuteronomy. What is borrowed from the book of Deuteronomy is no longer a speech of Moses to the people of Israel in the Land of Moab but the speech of God to Moses on Mount Sinai.

* My cordial thanks go to Stephen Germany for proofreading the manuscript of this article.  I am using the edition of Steudel, Texte aus Qumran,  – ; English quotations are taken from Charlesworth et al., Temple Scroll and Related Documents.

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This is also true for the expanded law concerning kingship and war from Deut 17 in cols. 56 – 59 and for the regulations concerning war from Deut 20 in cols. 61– 63 of the Temple Scroll. However, the existence of two groups of legislation concerning warfare in the Temple Scroll raises some questions. For some scholars this is a contradiction, which leads to the conclusion that we are dealing with at least two different sources here. Especially the extended law concerning the king, including the laws concerning warfare in cols. 56 – 59, is seen as a different and unique source transmitted separately.² This assumption fits the compositional theory that was developed by Andrew M. Wilson and Lawrence Wills³ and later expanded by Michael O. Wise⁴. According to this theory, the two versions of the legislation concerning war belong to separate, originally independent sources and were joined together subsequently⁵ or in one redactional act.⁶ The theory reminds us of the fragmentary as well as the documentary hypothesis in the Pentateuch and is accepted by almost all Qumran scholars.⁷

Andrew M. Wilson and Lawrence Wills (1982) 1) 2) 3) 4) 5)

Temple and Courts: 2:1– 13:8; 30:3 – 47:18 Calendar: 13:9 – 30:2 Purity laws: 48:1– 51:10 Laws of polity: 51:11– 56:21; 60:1– 66:17 Torah of the King: 57– 59

Michael O. Wise (1990) 1) Temple Source: 3:1– 13:8; 30:3 – 31:9a; 31:10 – 34:12a; 34:15 – 35:9a; 35:10 – 39:5a; 39:11b– 40:5; 40:7– 43:12a; 44:1– 45:7a; 46:1– 11a; 46:13 – 47:2 2) Festival Calendar: 13:8 – 29:2

 See Schiffman, “Laws of War”.  Wilson / Wills, “Literary Sources”.  Wise, Critical Study. On this book see García Martínez, “Sources et rédaction”.  Thus Wilson / Wills, “Literary Sources,” who proposed that sources  (Temple and Courts) and  (Laws of Polity) were joined first before sources  (Calendar),  (Purity laws) and  (Torah of the King) were added subsequently.  Thus Wise, Critical Study, who assumes one redactional process where an older “D-source” was joined with a younger “Temple source” and was simultaneously supplemented by the remaining pieces and some redactional formulations.  See, for instance, García Martínez, “Temple Scroll,” esp.  f.; for the discussion see Paganini, Rezeption des Deuteronomiums,  – .

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3) Laws (diverse sources): 34:12b – 14; 39:5 – 11a; 40:6; 45:7b – 18; 49:1– 51:5a; parts of 52:13b – 21; 63:14b–15; 66:12b – 17 4) D (Deuteronomy) source: 2:1– 15; 48:1– 10a; 51:11– 18; 52:1– 12; 53:1– 56:21; 60:12– 63:14a; 64:1– 6a; 64:13b – 66:9a; 66:10 – 12a 5) MD (Midrash to Deuteronomy) source: 57:1– 59:21; 60:2– 11; 64:6b–13a 6) Redactional compositions: 29:2– 30:2; 31:9b; 35:9b; 43:12b–17; 46:11b–12; 47:3 – 18; 48:11– 17; 51:5b–11; 51:19 – 21; 52:13b–21 (incorporating legal sources); 66:9b

For others the existence of two groups of legislation concerning warfare in the Temple Scroll is no problem at all.⁸ It belongs to the original unity of the Temple Scroll since the first passage in cols. 56 – 59 is connected with the king, while the second passage (paraphrase of Deut 20) is connected to the people. Furthermore, as Molly Zahn has argued, the Temple Scroll is characterised throughout by the principles of rewritten Bible. Referring to the insights of Wise and Dwight Swanson,⁹ she discovers a coherent hermeneutical concept that governs the reception and reworking of the biblical text. Despite various differences, the assumption of more than one author thus becomes superfluous.¹⁰ I myself am quite convinced by Zahn’s contestation of the source hypothesis and consensus of Qumran scholarship but am not so convinced by the counterthesis of the unity of the Temple Scroll. The most important argument for Zahn’s theory is the consistent reference to the biblical text (be it the Masoretic or any other textual version such as 4QReworked Pentateuch) as well as the hermeneutics and techniques of rewriting. The Temple Scroll, however, is not the only example of the phenomenon of rewritten Bible. If we were to follow Zahn’s line of argumentation, all other examples from Chronicles up to the Genesis Apocryphon would have to be regarded as single-author works because they all follow the same hermeneutics and techniques of rewriting. In other words, the contestation of a source- or fragmentary hypothesis does not automatically entail the compositional (i. e., literary) unity of a work. There is, however, an alternative model of explaining the origin of the texts that has—as far as I am aware—not yet been proposed or tested in regard to the Temple Scroll. Here, I am thinking of the supplementary hypothesis or Fortschreibungshypothese. This hypothesis does not presuppose separate sources or fragments but rather a base text (Grundtext) that was successively supplemented. During this literary process, the text was repeatedly (re)interpreted.  Paganini, Rezeption des Deuteronomiums,  f.  Wise, Temple Scroll; Swanson, Temple Scroll and the Bible.  Zahn, “Diachronie der Tempelrolle,” esp.  – . Zahn specified her argument in light of QRPC as a possible source for the Temple Scroll; on the laws of war see Zahn, “QReworked Pentateuch C,” esp.  n. .

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Within this explanation, elements of the other hypotheses (sources, fragments) could still be integrated. The key point of the supplementary hypothesis is that while the diverse components of a text may have grown in several stages, they were not drafted independently of each other but with knowledge of the preceding compositions, and mostly in literary dependence upon them. Only this assumption allows us to explain both the similarities and literary connections as well as the differences between various parts of a text within one and the same work. Whether we can use the supplementary hypothesis to explain the composition of the Temple Scroll depends on how we understand differences in the individual parts of the scroll to relate to the overall conception of the document. Distinctive variations that offer evidence for literary inconsistency include the reference to Yhwh in both the first or third person; second-person singular and plural address; the construction yihyeh qotel instead of we-qatal or we-yiqtol; the different techniques of using and arranging the material of the Vorlage; and not least the twofold legislation concerning warfare in cols. 56 – 59 and cols. 61– 63. It is therefore not enough to explain the differences by simply referencing the dependence on a certain Vorlage, the composition’s diverse contents or the complexity of legal tradition in general.¹¹ Rather, we have to ask whether the different legal traditions and techniques of interpretation can be reconciled with the overall composition and concept of the work and whether they pursue a uniform Tendenz. Not the differences as such, which are nothing more than indicators of something to be explained, but rather the Tendenz and the conceptual or narrative consistency are to my mind the pivotal criteria for deciding whether a text originated as a literary unity or not.

II. Of course, I am unable to present a full analysis of the Temple Scroll here. I would like to point out very briefly, however, the significance of five texts:

 Whether or not the manuscripts Q, Qa and Q are copies of the Temple Scroll (Q – ) or of one of its sources and could thus help to reconstruct the literary history of the work, is still hard to say; the remains are too fragmentary. However, the manuscripts demonstrate that there was a lively textual tradition on the same or similar subjects within different versions of the Pentateuch (QRP, LXX, SP) which we have to take into account and which possibly underlie the composition and perhaps also the gradual growth of the work attested in Q – . See García Martínez, “Temple Scroll,”  – ; for further discussion see Fabry, “Kanongeschichtliche Bedeutung,” esp.  – ; Zahn, “QReworked Pentateuch C”.

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cols. 2; 29; 45 – 47; 51 and 59. These texts seem to me to be the decisive compositional markers of the entire work, the last of which (col. 59) is also significant for the twofold legislation of warfare. By focussing on these texts, one can demonstrate the structure of the whole composition and perhaps also its successive composition.

Structure of the Temple Scroll according to compositional markers (lines in brackets according to A. Steudel) Introduction (cols.  – ) )  Narrative Framework (covenant, idolatry, in Exod , ff. followed by laws concerning festivals and offerings) A. Building Account ) : – : (: – :) : – : (: – :) : – :a (: – :) :b–: (:b–:) ) : – : (: – :) (?)  –  B. Laws ) : – : (:[?])– :) :b– (:b–) ) : – : (: – :) : – : (: – :) : – : (: – :) : –  (: – )

Temple and Festivals Building Account (Temple) Festivals and Offerings Compositional marker (dwelling, covenant with Jacob)

Building Account (Temple Courts)

Compositional marker (dwelling, holiness of courts and city)

Laws concerning purity (holiness)

Compositional marker (“which I am relating to you on this mountain”)

Laws concerning judiciary and kingship (idolatry, enemies) Judiciary as framework + idolatry Torah of the King + enemies Compositional marker (curses and blessings on people and king)

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Paraphrase of Deuteronomy (Deut  – )

The main structuring principle of the Temple Scroll is a division into a building report (part A, cols. 2– 47) and laws (part B, cols. 48 – 66). Here, as Johann Maier convincingly demonstrated, a movement from the inside to the outside can be observed in the first part, while the second part deals with the ability to enter the holy places.¹² Part A, the first part, is structured by cols. 2; 29 and 45 – 47. Here we find first the building report and the festival calendar in cols. 3 – 29 (based on Exod 25 – 40 and Num 28 – 29). It is impossible and unnecessary to separate the festival calendar in cols. 13 – 29 from its pre-context in cols. 3 – 13. The deviation of style (with Yhwh in the third person) is easily explained by the biblical Vorlage in Num 28 f., which is already a divine speech instructing Moses how he should address the people.¹³ This first passage seems to be the base text, since it is presupposed by all other following passages. Col. 29 concludes both the building report and the calendar and is the first compositional marker. Whether or not this base text in cols. 3 – 29 already had the narrative framework in col. (1–)2 as an introduction is hard to say. The second passage in part A is cols. 30 – 47, the building of the courts and the rules regarding the holiness of the holy precinct and the city. This passage clearly presupposes the temple building report but looks like a supplement. Cols. 45 – 47 refer back to col. 29. The leading perspective of both passages, cols. 3 – 29 and 30 – 47, is taken from Exod 29 and 40 and states that Israel shall be the people of the Lord and that the Lord will be the God of Israel. Because of this, the Lord lets his glory dwell in the sanctuary or the holy city (cols. 29 and 45 – 47: dwelling, holiness). However, cols. 45 – 47 seem to envisage a wider horizon and look like a sort of Wiederaufnahme. Part B, the second part containing the laws, is structured by the compositional markers in cols. 51 and 59, according to which the ability to enter the sanctuary and the holy city is determined by three different aspects: a) the holiness of the people (cols. 48 – 51), b) the rejection of idolatry and of enemies (cols. 51– 59), and c) the observance of all the laws of Deuteronomy (cols. 60 – 66). Interestingly, the narrative introduction in col. 2 does not so much point to the building of the sanctuary in part A but to the laws concerning purity in

 Maier, Tempelrolle, .  See Zahn, “Diachronie der Tempelrolle,”  f. Strictly speaking it is not a “festival calendar” but rather a list of offerings to be made on the altar, which has just been described. The fact that the list follows the -day calendar and shows other similarities with the views of the Qumran community does not play a role in the literary and redactional analysis.

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cols. 48 – 51 and the laws concerning idolatry in cols. 51– 59; thus, the narrative framework in col. 2 points more to the law in part B of the Temple Scroll. The narrative introduction integrates the building report into the framework of Exod 34 (with borrowings from Deut 7), creating a connection between the covenant with Jacob at Bethel mentioned in col. 29 (for the future temple to be created on the “day of creation”) and the covenant at Sinai in Exod 34 (for the temple described in the Temple Scroll) and draws a line from the first to the second part of the Temple Scroll. It seems to me that the narrative in cols. (1–)2 was added secondarily together with part B, the law. Here, in turn, I have the impression that the three passages of part B, divided by the compositional markers in cols. 51 and 59, were added successively: The first passage to be added was the laws concerning purity in cols. 48 – 51. At their beginning (48:7 f.) and end (51:7 f., 9 f.), these laws refer to the concept of holiness in cols. 3 – 47 and to the “dwelling of the Lord”. However, they also add another aspect. In the style of the Holiness Code (Lev 19), they supplement the holiness of the place by the aspect of the sanctification of the participants in the cult who are now called “holy” (51:8). The final statement in col. 51:6 f. explicitly refers to the beginning in col. 2 in terms of Exod 34: “which I am relating to you on this mountain.” The next passage is cols. 51– 59. This passage is based on Deut 16 – 17 (using additional material from chaps. 12– 15) and changes the speech of Moses into a divine speech in accordance with Exod 34 (and col. 2). The main subjects are, however, not so much the institutions (judges, kingship), but—in accordance with col. 2 (and Exod 34)—idolatry and Israel’s relationship to the nations. The compositional marker in col. 59 also points, however, to col. 29 using the covenant formula in l. 13 (“And I will become God for them, and they shall become a people for me”). The curses and blessings based on Lev 26 and Deut 28– 30 appear to function like a conclusion to the legislation of the Temple Scroll as a whole and return to the narrative introduction in col. 2 referring to the entry into the promised land. Thus, col. 59 refers back to the previous parts and especially to cols. 2 and 29 but sets a new agenda: idolatry and the eschatological fate of the people. Next to the people the king is considered specifically in col. 59. This could imply that the laws regarding judicature and idolatry in cols. 51– 56 + 59 (ll. 1– 13a) were later supplemented by the law regarding kingship (including the priestly Torah of the king concerning warfare) in cols. 57– 58 + 59 (ll. 13b– 21). I will come back to this later. Finally, the third passage (cols. 60 – 66) consists of a plain paraphrase of Deut 18 – 23. Here it is remarkable that the Temple Scroll consequently follows the laws of Deuteronomy and only changes the speech of Moses (almost) consistently into a divine speech. This marks a distinct difference from the arbitrary ar-

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rangement of Deut 12 – 17 in cols. 51– 59 and advances the suspicion of a secondary addition (Fortschreibung) in the three passages of the legal material of the Scroll.¹⁴ In this passage, Deut 20 is repeated along with the other chapters in Deut 18 – 23. If this reconstruction is correct, the twofold legislation concerning war in cols. 56 – 59 and cols. 61– 63 has a simple reason. The duplication is to be explained by the gradual growth of the text and different uses of the biblical Vorlage to different ends. In both phenomena—the gradual growth and the different uses of the biblical text—we find the dynamics of interpretation of an “ongoing construction of nomian worlds of Torah discourse and practice.”¹⁵ In cols. 56 – 59 the laws concerning war are an addition to the laws concerning kingship in Deut 17. The whole passage makes a free use of Deut 12– 17 and is not so much interested in juridical matters or in kingship as such but in the subject of idolatry and Israel’s relationship to the foreign nations (based on Deut 16:21– 17:7). Therefore, the author (or a later redactor) added the law concerning kingship (based on Deut 17:14– 20) and combined it with a written “Torah of the king”. This “Torah of the king” obviously reflects 1 Sam 8, where we find a sharp contrast between human and divine kingship. Actually, the Temple Scroll thus combines two texts that are already related in the Hebrew Bible. The Temple Scroll stipulates for the king—as does 1 Sam 12 for Samuel— that he must act in contravention to the Torah of the king in 1 Sam 8. Noteworthy is the fact that we are dealing here—as in the final text of Deut 20—with the situation of war in general (not just the war against the nations when entering the promised land). The Hellenistic-Roman or perhaps already the Hasmonean situation might be the background for the rewriting of 1 Sam 8. Significant is the notion of the people as a military camp (as in Numbers, the Damascus Document or the War Scroll) combined with the notion of the piety and purity of king and people—studying the Torah day and night (as in Deut 17 and Ps 1) and at the same time protecting the king and being prepared for war against the nations day and night. In cols. 61– 63, in contrast, the aim is different. Here, the paraphrase of the Deuteronomic law as such from chap. 18 onwards is the focus, and thus the law concerning warfare in Deut 20 is also repeated. For the authors (or redactors) of

 This difference holds true despite the fact that the techniques of rewriting or paraphrasing the text of Deuteronomy are more or less the same in detail. See Schiffman, “Deuteronomic Paraphrase”.  For a fresh and pathbreaking approach to interpreting the legal discourse in Second Temple literature beyond the usual (solely hermeneutical or solely historical) explanations see Fraade, “Torah of the King,” esp. .

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the different parts, the two sets of war legislation were certainly no contradiction. The multiple mention of war as a special situation of the life of the people in the land to be regulated by law is already present in the book of Deuteronomy itself (Deut 20; 21:10 – 14; 23:10 – 15) and thus could be easily imitated in the Temple Scroll.

III. This brings us back to the book of Deuteronomy itself as the Vorlage of the Temple Scroll. I am interested in two aspects here: first, the combination of law and narrative within Deuteronomy itself (with a special focus on the law concerning war in Deut 20), and second, the relationship between the biblical Vorlage and its rewriting in the Temple Scroll. In Deuteronomy, too, law and narrative are closely connected. This connection is obvious in the narrative framework of the legal corpus in Deut 1– 3 (or 1– 11) and Deut (27 or) 31– 34, where we find numerous historical references to the narrative context of the Pentateuch and the Former Prophets. However, the combination of law and narrative can also be traced back to the earliest layers of the book of Deuteronomy, the so-called “Ur-Deuteronomy”. In the corpus of laws in chaps. 12– 26, the imperfect tense of the centralisation formula ‫“ ַבּ ָמּקוֹם ֲא ֶשׁר־יְִבַחר ְיה ָוה‬the place which the Lord will choose” already points to the sacred history in the Former Prophets. Thus, the more the book of Deuteronomy grew, the more it became directly connected to the sacred history of the Bible, presenting itself as a speech of Moses which paraphrases the narrative in (Genesis) Exodus to Numbers, especially the revelation of the law at Mount Sinai, and pointing to the continuation of that narrative in the promised land.¹⁶ It is not by chance that this self-presentation is in accordance with the literary history of the book of Deuteronomy which is—from the beginning—an intentional rewriting of the Covenant Code placed within the Sinai pericope of Exod 19 – 24. In fact, Deuteronomy is an example of rewritten literature within the Hebrew Bible, consisting of both law and narrative from the beginning on. As such it is the forerunner of the Temple Scroll, which is a rewriting of both the legislations in Exodus and Deuteronomy outside the Hebrew Bible. In other words, the Temple Scroll seems to stand in more or less direct continuity

 See Kratz, Composition,  –  (pp.  –  in the original German version); furthermore idem, “Ort;” idem, “Hexateuch;” idem, “Headings”.

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with the formation of Deuteronomy in terms of its literary development as well as in terms of its content and hermeneutical principals. As far as the literary development is concerned, here too scholarship debates whether it was one or more redactors joining several collections of law (different sources or fragments or legal traditions which existed independently before being joined in Deuteronomy) or whether the book was supplemented in several stages.¹⁷ The example of the Temple Scroll points rather in the direction of the latter: a growth in gradual stages of rewriting which lead to the final form of Deuteronomy and to the Temple Scroll as its continuation. Again, I cannot present a full analysis of Deuteronomy here. Rather, I would like to call attention to the overall structure of Deuteronomy and point out two connections between Deuteronomy and the Temple Scroll: the narrative framework and the laws concerning war. As far as the narrative framework is concerned, the point of departure—according to a wide consensus among scholars—is the Shema‘ Israel in Deut 6:4.¹⁸ The speaker is not mentioned but seems to be Moses, who begins his speech followed by the Shema‘ Israel in Deut 5:1 (see the doublet of the Shema‘ in 5:1 and 6:4). The narrative framework for Moses’ speech is to be found in Num 25:1 (the arrival in Shittim, the last station after wandering in the desert) and Josh 2:1 or 3:1 (the departure of the Israelites from Shittim into the promised land after the death of Moses in Deut 34:5 f.). Here Moses proclaims the law, which he received from the Lord on Mount Sinai to give to the people of Israel. This remains the narrative setting up to the final form of Deuteronomy:

Narrative framework Arrival in Shittim Speech of Moses

Num Deut Deut Deut

:  ff. : (Introduction) : (Shema‘ Israel)

Law

Deut  – 

Narrative

Deut  ff. Deut :a,  f. (Death of Moses) Departure from Shittim Josh :; :

 For the history of research see Preuss, Deuteronomium; Veijola, “Deuteronomismusforschung I,”  – ; Kratz, “Current Research,” esp.  – .  See Kratz, “Headings,”  with n. . For the following, see the literature in n.  above.

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Using an older building report, which is based on Exod 25 – 40 and with the narrative introduction in col. (1–)2 based on Exod 34, the Temple Scroll starts exactly at the point where the final formation of the Pentateuch ceases. Just as the biblical legend of Deuteronomy within the Hebrew Bible repeats the divine revelation on Mount Sinai to the people and—while doing so—inserts its own new material, in a similar way the Temple Scroll, in turn, transforms the speech of Moses from Deuteronomy into a divine speech at Sinai in order to coordinate the law of Sinai with the law of Moab. And the Temple Scroll, too—while doing so—adds its own material. In other words, the Temple Scroll fills in the gap left by the book of Deuteronomy as a rewriting of the Sinai pericope in Exodus to Numbers: according to the Temple Scroll, the laws of Deuteronomy are also revealed at Sinai! Thus, the Temple Scroll understands itself as part of the Torah outside the Torah.¹⁹ Within this narrative framework also the gradual addition of the legal tradition is very similar to the growth of the Temple Scroll.

Structure and additions in Deut 12 – 26 Cultic Legislation  –  Judicature : –  : – : (idolatry) : –  : –  (kingship) : –  (priests and Levites) : –  (prophets) : –  (asylum)

 For the hermeneutical relevance of the narrative framework see Otto, “Temple Scroll and Pentateuch”. Otto rightly points out that it is no accident that the Temple Scroll chose Exod , i. e. the second Sinaitic revelation after the lapse of the Golden Calf, and not—as Jubilees did—Exod  –  as the narrative framework for its rewriting. However, I am not so convinced by his historical explanation of this framework: within the narrative scene the (newold) law is not revealed to the authors of the Temple Scroll as a (subversive) polemic against priestly (Zadokite) interpretation of the Torah in Deuteronomy but to Moses on the mountain, the same Moses who afterwards teaches the law to the people in the land of Moab according to Deuteronomy. Otto, however, mingles the narrative (fictional) scene of Exod  and col.  of the Temple Scroll with his scholarly ideas on the literary history and the historical and social setting of both the Pentateuch and the Temple Scroll. Similarly Paganini, Rezeption des Deuteronomiums. There is in fact no paradoxical relationship between Deuteronomy and the Temple Scroll; the latter simply complements the revelation on Sinai (Exod ) in light of Deuteronomy and its contemporary reading and understanding.

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: (landmarks) : –  (witnesses)  (war) : –  (without witnesses) : ff. (the land and its population)

Thus, the law concerning war in Deut 20 is certainly a secondary addition. The chapter interrupts an earlier connection between chaps. 19 and 21, which is concerned with matters of judicature, namely cases with and without witnesses (19:15 – 21; 21:1– 9). The laws concerning war are perhaps interpolated at this point in order to create a new structure: after the legislation concerning the cult (chaps. 12– 16) and the offices (judges, king, priests and prophets in chaps. 16 – 18), chap. 19 (the three cities of asylum) is seen as the beginning of a third part of legislation concerning the land, the cities and their population governed by the administrative bodies mentioned before: 19:1 begins with the occupation of the land and the annihilation of the nations, 19:14 mentions landmarks, chap. 20 gives the rules for “holy” war during the wilderness and conquest periods as well as in the following history of the people in the promised land. It seems that the general rules for any war are later than the specific rules concerning the occupation of the land. Another literary addition is the law concerning kingship in Deut 17. This law —together with further laws concerning idolatry in chap. 17 and those concerning priests and prophets in chap. 18—interrupts the laws concerning judicature under the conditions of cultic centralization and the literary connection between 16:18– 20 (judges); 17:8– 13 (priestly court in Jerusalem) and 19 (asylum, witnesses). These interpolations also introduce a new structure, adding other professions in order to create a section relating to administrative bodies in chaps. 16– 18 as a programmatic order for life in the promised land. The Temple Scroll obviously presupposes the final form of Deuteronomy. Regarding the regulations concerning war, the generalization of the rules in Deut 20 is the basis for the rewriting of the law concerning kingship and of the “Torah of the King” based on 1 Sam 8 in cols. 56 – 59. However, the reference to Deut 17 and 1 Sam 8 implies that the situation of war as one aspect of the life in the promised land has become a sort of metaphor or cipher for Israel, namely for the situation of the holy people of God organised as a military camp, which has to survive in this world—the world of the Hellenistic-Roman period full of enemies within and outside the people of Israel. It is this perspective that presumably also determined the pure paraphrase and rewriting of the legal corpus of Deuteronomy in cols. 60 – 66 of the Temple Scroll. After all, the Temple Scroll presupposes and continues the multistage process of rewriting and interpretating law and narrative that already took place in

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the book of Deuteronomy itself.²⁰ This process began with the Covenant Code and its reformulation in Deuteronomy and was followed by the Decalogue, its violation and reformulation in Exod 32– 34, the late-deuteronomistic programme of the purity of the cult in Deuteronomy, the Priestly Writing and the Holiness Code. As the youngest document, the Temple Scroll ties in with these late strata and continues the literary and conceptual development of law and narrative in Deuteronomy more or less consistently.

Bibliography Charlesworth, James H. et al., eds. Temple Scroll and Related Documents. Vol. 7 of The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck / Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2011. Fabry, Heinz-Josef. “Die Tempelrolle und ihre kanongeschichtliche Bedeutung.” In Qumran und der biblische Kanon, edited by Michael Becker / Jörg Frey, 121 – 44. BThSt 92. Neukirchen: Neukirchener Verlag, 2009. Fraade, Steven D. “‘The Torah of the King’ (Deut 17:14 – 20) in the Temple Scroll and Early Rabbinic Law.” In Legal Fictions: Studies of Law and Narrative in the Discursive Worlds of Ancient Jewish Sectarians and Sages, 285 – 319. JSJ.S 147. Leiden: Brill, 2011. García Martínez, Florentino. “Sources et rédaction du Rouleau du Temple.” Henoch 13 (1991): 219 – 32. —. “Temple Scroll.” In Encyclopedia of the Dead Sea Scrolls, edited by Lawrence H. Schiffman / James C. VanderKam, 927 – 33. Oxford et al.: Oxford University Press, 2000. Kratz, Reinhard G. “Der literarische Ort des Deuteronomiums.” In Liebe und Gebot: Studien zum Deuteronomium, Festschrift zum 70. Geburtstag von Lothar Perlitt, edited by idem / Hermann Spieckermann, 101 – 20. FRLANT 190. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000. —. “Der vor- und der nachpriesterschriftliche Hexateuch.” In Abschied vom Jahwisten: Die Komposition des Hexateuch in der jüngsten Diskussion, edited by Jan C. Gertz / Konrad Schmid / Markus Witte, 295 – 323. BZAW 315. Berlin / New York: Walter de Gruyter, 2002. —. The Composition of the Narrative Books of the Old Testament, translated by John Bowden. London: T&T Clark, 2005 (Original German version, Die Komposition der erzählenden Bücher des Alten Testaments: Grundwissen der Bibelkritik. UTB 2157. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000). —. “The Pentateuch in Current Research: Consensus and Debate.” In The Pentateuch: International Perspectives on Current Research, edited by Thomas B. Dozeman / Konrad Schmid / Baruch J. Schwartz, 31 – 61. FAT 78. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011. —. “The Headings of the Book of Deuteronomy.” In Deuteronomy in the Pentateuch, Hexateuch, and the Deuteronomistic History, edited by Konrad Schmid / Raymond F. Person Jr., 31 – 46. FAT II/56. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012.

 See Kratz, “Rewriting Torah”. For a wider perspective see Najman, Seconding Sinai, esp. –.

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—. “Rewriting Torah in the Hebrew Bible and the Dead Sea Scrolls.” In Wisdom and Torah: The Reception of ‘Torah’ in the Wisdom Literature of the Second Temple Period, edited by Bernd U. Schipper / D. Andrew Teeter, 273 – 92. JSJ.S 163. Leiden: Brill, 2013. Maier, Johann. Die Tempelrolle vom Toten Meer und das “Neue Jerusalem”: 11Q19 und 11Q20, 1Q32, 2Q24, 4Q554 – 555, 5Q15 und 11Q18, Übersetzung und Erläuterung. UTB 829. 3rd edn. München: Ernst Reinhardt, 1997. Najman, Hindy. Seconding Sinai: The Development of Mosaic Discourse in Second Temple Judaism. JSJ.S 77. Leiden: Brill, 2003. Otto, Eckhart. “Temple Scroll and Pentateuch: A Priestly Debate about the Interpretation of the Torah.” In The Qumran Legal Texts between the Hebrew Bible and Its Interpretation, edited by Kristin de Troyer / Armin Lange, 59 – 74. CBET 61. Leuven: Peeters, 2011. Paganini, Simone. “Nicht darfst du zu diesen Wörtern etwas hinzufügen”: Die Rezeption des Deuteronomiums in der Tempelrolle. Sprache, Autoren und Hermeneutik. BZAR 11. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2009. Preuss, Horst D. Deuteronomium. EdF 164. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1982. Schiffman, Lawrence H. “The Deuteronomic Paraphrase of the Temple Scroll.” In The Courtyards of the House of the Lord: Studies on the Temple Scroll, 443 – 69. StTDJ 75. Leiden: Brill, 2008. —. “The Laws of War in the Temple Scroll.” In The Courtyards of the House of the Lord: Studies on the Temple Scroll, 505 – 17. StTDJ 75. Leiden: Brill, 2008. Steudel, Annette, ed. Die Texte aus Qumran: Hebräisch / Aramäisch und Deutsch. Mit masoretischer Punktation, Übersetzung, Einführung und Anmerkungen. Vol. 2. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2001. Swanson, Dwight D. The Temple Scroll and the Bible: The Methodology of 11QT. StTDJ 14. Leiden: Brill, 1995. Veijola, Timo. “Deuteronomismusforschung zwischen Tradition und Innovation I.” ThR 67 (2002): 276 – 327. Wilson, Andrew M. / Wills, Lawrence. “Literary Sources of the Temple Scroll.” HTR 75 (1982): 275 – 88. Wise, Michael O. A Critical Study of the Temple Scroll from Qumran Cave 11. SAOC 49. Chicago: The Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago, 1990. Zahn, Molly M. “Schneiderei oder Weberei? Zum Verständnis der Diachronie der Tempelrolle.” RdQ 20 (2001): 255 – 86. —. “4QReworked Pentateuch C and the Literary Sources of the Temple Scroll: A New (Old) Proposal.” DSD 19 (2012): 133 – 58.

Cynthia Edenburg (The Open University of Israel)

Paradigm, Illustrative Narrative or Midrash: the Case of Josh 7‒8 and Deuteronomic/istic Law

Several methodological issues arise when examining the relation between a given narrative and Biblical law. Firstly, Biblical law is a closed, heterogeneous literary corpus, and not a systemization of law as practiced. Since nearly no legal documents have been preserved from the Iron and Persian periods in Judah/ Yehud we have virtually no direct knowledge of legal practice from this period.¹ Accordingly, we must acknowledge the fact that Biblical narratives might reflect legal practices that are not presumed by the Biblical law corpora. A narrative may additionally employ a literary motif found in a law without actually evoking the law itself. For example, in Biblical law the motif of seeking asylum at an altar is connected with the protection from blood vengeance accorded in cases of involuntary manslaughter (Exod 21:12‒13). However, this motif is applied in the narrative of Solomon’s rise to kingship in 1 Kgs 1:50‒53, 2:28‒30, in a free fashion that does not reflect the strictures of the law in Exod 21.² In light of this caveat, strict literary criteria should be employed in order to establish that a literary relationship does exist between a Biblical narrative and Biblical law. Parallels in circumstances, rulings and wording do not necessary establish literary relationship, since both the narrative and the Biblical law may presume the same common legal practice. For example, does the story told by the Tekoaite woman (2 Sam 14:4‒11) presume a specific Biblical law—either Exod 21:12‒14 or Deut 19:1‒13—or does it only presume the practice of blood vengeance? Therefore, I suggest adopting criteria such as rare or unique parallel

 See most recently, Wells, “What is Biblical Law?” ‒, with reference to further literature there.  See e. g., Barmash, “Narrative Quandary,” ‒, ‒. This caveat is overlooked by Burnside, who reinterprets the law of homicide (Exod :‒) and holds instead that it was intended to serve as a paradigmatic rule for all cases in which asylum might be sought, see Burnside, “Flight of the Fugitives”. However, the law in Exod :‒ is mainly concerned with homicide, and the provision of asylum is clearly secondary. The theme of seeking asylum at a sanctuary is a literary topos that is evoked by both the law in Exod  and the narrative in  Kgs ‒. Hence, there is no need to reinterpret Exod :‒ in order to provide the legal background for Adonijah’s and Joab’s actions in  Kgs ‒.

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formulation, inversion (“Seidel’s law”), and blind motif.³ Of course, there might actually be cases of dependency that do not fill these requirements, but then the possibility that the narrative and law merely reflect common legal practice could not be falsified. Finally, even when it seems likely that there is a literary relationship between a narrative and a Biblical law, the nature of the relationship must still be explained. A narrative may be presented or viewed as a paradigmatic situation that influenced the formulation of a law;⁴ or the narrative might be drafted in order to illustrate the application of a law.⁵ Additionally, a narrative might employ elements of a law in an exegetical or haggadic fashion.⁶ In light of the redactional complexity of much of the Biblical literature, it is feasible that a given narrative might interact with the body of Biblical law in more than one fashion. The following discussion will examine how the story of the conquest of Ai interacts with laws in Deuteronomy as well as with the Priestly and Holiness corpora, and will aim to show how analysis of the relationship between the narrative and the laws can provide an additional tool for resolving the question of the redactional complexity or literary integrity of the Ai story. If the conquest narrative was originally composed in the time of Josiah to provide legitimization for the northern expansion of Judah, then we should expect that the composition originally interacted with Deuteronomic law.⁷ In the

 On criteria for identifying literary dependence see Edenburg, “How (Not) to Murder a King,”  – ; eadem, “Joshua ,” . On “Seidel’s law” see Seidel, “Parallels in the Book of Isaiah”; Beentjes, “Inverted Quotations”; Brettler, The Creation of History,  n. ; Levinson, Deuteronomy, ‒, .  The issue of the inheritance rights of daughters in Num :‒ is a parade case, and see Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation, ‒. See also Chavel, “Oracular Novellae,” ‒.  See e.g., Daube, “Law in the Narrative,” ‒; Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation, ‒, ‒; Adam, “A Didactic Case,” ‒.  See e. g., Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation, ‒, ‒, ‒, ‒, ‒. The opposite has been argued at length by Calum M. Carmichael, namely that Deuteronomic law is an exegetical reflection on the comprehensive narrative from Genesis through Kings, and see, e. g., Carmichael, Law and Narrative, but see the comprehensive critique by Levinson, “Calum M. Carmichael’s Approach”.  See e. g., Römer, Deuteronomistic History,  – ; Nihan, “Literary Relationship,” ‒; Van Seters, In Search of History, ‒; Na’aman, “Conquest of Canaan,” , . While Nihan, “Literary Relationship,” ‒, agrees that the conquest narrative was first composed in the late seventh century, he holds that interaction between scrolls of Joshua and Deuteronomy occurred only at a later redactional stage. Achenbach postulates an early Persian period context for the Deuteronomistic revision of the conquest account that was aimed at the justifying the resettlement of the returnees in Samaria and Yehud, and see Achenbach, “Divine Warfare,”

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final form of the Ai story, the only echo of Deuteronomic law that I have found regards the provision that permits plundering the town’s booty and livestock (Josh 8:2, 27).⁸ This provision occurs towards the end of the Deuteronomic rule for war. The original rule of warfare in Deut 20:10‒14, 19‒20 was aimed at limiting destruction and bloodshed, and therefore it required offering a town terms for capitulation before waging war to conquer it (Deut 20:10‒11).⁹ A town that capitulates is to be spared, but if it resists, then all its male occupants should be killed, while women, children, livestock and other plunder may be taken as booty.¹⁰ The provision for taking booty in the Ai narrative is phrased in the same language as the law in Deut 20:14 but with one notable exception; Deut 20:14 allows taking captives from the women and children, while these are specifically excluded from the spoils of Ai.¹¹ Instead, the Ai story states that all the inhabitants of Ai were put to the ban (Josh 8:25‒26). The requirement that all inhabitants of a town be put to death occurs in the Deuteronomistic overwriting of the rules of war that is introduced by a sudden distinction between distant towns, that should be offered terms of peace, and all the towns of Canaan, that are automatically subject to ḥērem. Ḥērem was originally conceived as a spontaneous devoted offering, not unlike a vow, and often consisted of the fruits of war (see Mesha stele, KAI 181:17; Lev 27:28; Num 21:2‒3; Josh 6:17a, 19).¹² But Deuteronomistic ideology transformed the concept into an imperative rule that automatically applies to all the indigenous inhabitants of Canaan. Today most scholars agree that the law of ḥērem in Deut 20:15 – 18 is a late addition to Deuteronomy that probably derives from the Babylonian period.¹³ Surprisingly, in Joshua 8 the root ‫ חר”ם‬occurs

. For other views of the composition of Joshua see, e. g., Nelson, Joshua, ‒, ; Knauf, Josua,  – ; Noth, Josua, ‒; Kratz, Composition, ‒, .  Cf. Knauf, Josua, .  See also Schmitt, Du sollst, ; Rofé, “Laws of Warfare,” ‒; Achenbach, “Divine Warfare,” .  On the historical context for these provisions, see most recently Crouch, War and Ethics, ‒.  See Fritz, Josua, .  See, e. g., Schmitt, Du sollst, ; Greenberg, “Ḥerem”; Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation, ‒; Rofé, “Laws of Warfare,” ‒.  Rofé, “Laws of Warfare,” , ‒, ‒ (however, note that Rofé attributes his D stratum to the end of the seventh century); Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation,  – ; Noort, “Kapitulationsangebot,”  – ; Rose, . Mose,  – ; Nielsen, Deuteronomium, ; Dietrich, “Niedergang und Neuanfang,” ,  – ; Nelson, Deuteronomy,  – ; Edenburg, “Joshua ,” ‒, ‒.

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only towards the conclusion of the decisive battle at Ai (v. 26),¹⁴ while Joshua’s detailed instructions to the troops before the battle lacks any mention of ḥērem. This is in striking contrast to the story of the conquest of Jericho, where the application of ḥērem to the town’s populace is included in both Joshua’s instructions, as well in the narration of their execution (6:16b‒17a, 21). Hence, the theme that all the people of Ai were subject to ḥērem (8:25‒26, 10:1) probably derives from a Deuteronomistic revision designed to demonstrate how the new ḥērem stipulation was successfully carried out with regard to the populace of Canaan.¹⁵ Thus, I suggest that the early kernel of the conquest narrative in Josh 6‒10 was designed to illustrate the application of the Deuteronomic rules of war in Deut 20:10‒14. Jericho and everything within it—living and inanimate—is devoted to Yhwh as a first fruits offering (Josh 6), while Ai (Josh 7‒8) represents a city that does not capitulate (cf. Deut 20:12‒14), and Gibeon (Josh 9‒10) represents a city that does capitulate (cf. Deut 20:10‒11). The primary compositional layer of the Ai narrative possibly comprised: Josh 6:27*, 8:10‒29*. Like the other kings of Canaan, ‘hearing’ about Joshua’s conquests prompted the king of Ai to go to war with the Israelites (Josh 6:27, cf. 9:1– 2; 11:1– 5), which he immediately did upon seeing the Israelite troops massed outside the city gates. The outcome of the story of the conquest of Ai (8:24‒25*, 27*‒29) possibly spared women and children as booty in accordance with Deut 20:14. This compositional layer should be tentatively assigned to the late seventh century B.C.E. In the Babylonian period, the conquest narrative was revised to reflect the utopian Deuteronomistic ḥērem ideology.¹⁶ Accordingly, the story of the conquest of Ai was revised to re-

 The entire section of Josh :‒ appears to have undergone a complex process of accretion. The total of Ai’s casualties in v.  disrupts the continuity between v. b, they put it (Ai) to the sword, and v. b, he put all the inhabitants of Ai to the ban, and compare the formulation in :, , , ; :‒. Furthermore, none of the other conquest narratives have summary totals of casualties. Accordingly, this summary is probably a secondary accretion inspired by :‒, which details the Israelite troop size and casualties in the first, failed battle against Ai. Thus in the final tally, despite the Israelite’s initial defeat, they lost only three men to every thousand of those from Ai. So too, v. a is also disruptive and was probably inspired by the wish to impart magical efficacy to Joshua’s spear similar to the role of Moses’ hands in Exod :‒, and see Amit, “And Joshua Stretched out”; Nelson, Joshua, ; Knauf, Josua, ; cf. van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, ‒ on the LXX omission of v. .  See also Knauf, Josua, .  See Edenburg, “Joshua ,” ‒; cf. Clements, “Achan’s Sin,” ; Achenbach, “Divine Warfare,” . For the notion that the total destruction of Jericho was understood as a first fruits offering, see also Greenberg, “Ḥerem”; Mitchell, Together, .

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flect the complete proscription of the inhabitants of Ai (Josh 8:2, 25aβ, 26, 10:1), and this process was also carried out in Josh 10:28‒40. The treatment Joshua accorded to the king of Ai has been thought by many to reflect Deuteronomic law.¹⁷ According to Josh 8:23, 29, the king of Ai was taken alive, and then impaled until sunset, when his body was taken down and interned under a stone cairn. The law in Deut 21:22‒23 requires the speedy burial (“on that very day”) of the body of a criminal who has been impaled after execution. It is notable that the Deuteronom(ist)ic law does not target a war practice, but rather the treatment of a common person found guilty of a capital offense. Capital punishment by impalement in criminal cases is mentioned in the laws of Hammurabi and in the Middle Assyrian Laws, both of which continued to be copied in Neo-Assyrian times (LH §§153, 227; MAL A §53). There is nothing particularly noteworthy about the cases that specify impalement.¹⁸ Since the Ancient Near Eastern law collections usually do not specify the means of execution, it is possible that impalement was left to the judges’ discretion, especially if it was deemed that a particular case was worthy of public display in order to serve as a deterrent.¹⁹ Although the Deuteronom(ist)ic law does not specify which capital cases might have been considered worthy of impalement,²⁰ it does share a striking converse analogy with MAL A §53. MAL A §53 rules for a woman who induces her own abortion: “they shall impale her, they shall not bury her,” while Deut 21:22‒23 dictates for the impaled felon: “you shall not leave his corpse on the stake, but you must bury him on that same day.” It is remarkable that a similar analogy is also found between MAL A §55 and Deut 22:23‒29.²¹ Thus, it is tempting to surmise that sections of MAL A, such as §§50‒56 were part of the scribal curriculum of seventh and sixth century B.C.E. Judean scribes, who perhaps studied and copied them in Aramaic translation, and appropriated them for their own literary purposes, as in

 See, e. g., Gray, Joshua, Judges and Ruth, ; Boling, Joshua, ; Butler, Joshua, ; Nelson, Joshua, ; Knauf, Josua, , .  LH § deals with a woman who conspires to have her husband killed on account of another man; LH § deals with appropriating another’s slave and removing his slave-mark; MAL A § deals with a pregnant woman who induces her own abortion. See also Wazana, “Impaled Bodies,”  n. .  Cf. Wazana, “Impaled Bodies,” .  Rose, . Mose, ‒, surmises that impalement was reserved for transgressions that endangered the entire community and body politic, and most specifically the crime of treason. This indeed is stated in the Temple Scroll (Q  :‒), but it is likely that this passage in the Temple Scroll is an exegetical rewriting rather than a reliable reflection of the original intent of Deut :‒. Thus, in my opinion, Rose’s conjecture lacks adequate basis.  For discussion and further literature see Edenburg, “Ideology and Social Context,” ‒.

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Deut 21:22‒23. However, the rationale of the Deuteronom(ist)ic law is not that continued impalement is abusive or inhumane. Instead, the law is based upon the idea that an unburied corpse is a source of pollution that defiles the land (cf. Deut 21:1‒9).²² This argument is close to the Priestly view of corpse defilement (e. g. Num 19:11‒14), and raises the question whether the motive clause is not a late scribal addition stemming from the late sixth century. In my opinion, the description of impalement in Josh 8:29 was not initially designed to illustrate Deuteronomic law, but rather takes its inspiration from the prevalent Neo-Assyrian practice directed against foreign enemies in wartime.²³ The reliefs of the conquest of Lachish illustrate how Sennacherib carried out this practice in Judah during his third campaign. In my opinion, the early conquest account did not object to the idea that the Israelites should treat the kings of Canaan in the same fashion that Assyrians had treated Judean captives during the campaigns of the seventh century.²⁴ I think that a later scribe, in the late sixth century or later, assumed that the rationale that was added to the law in Deut 21:22‒23 should also apply to the period of the conquest in order to preserve the land of Israel’s inheritance from pollution. To this end, he added the details about removing the body of the king of Ai at sunset and interning his corpse in the cairn.²⁵ In this case, a late Deuteronomistic revision of the Ai narrative employed the law in Deut 21:22‒23 in an exegetical fashion. The present form of the story of Ai is based on the premise that the town was conquered only after an initial defeat, caused by Yhwh in punishment for a concealed sin. Victory could be achieved only after identifying the wrongdoer and righting his wrong. This representation of divine justice conforms to the outlook that dictated the structure of the Deuteronomistic History.²⁶ The same is true of the principle of double causality borne out in the present form of the story, whereby the outcome of the battles are explained by earthly causes (tactical errors and their rectification) along with divine causation.²⁷ Taken together, Joshua 7 and 8 establish the basic paradigm for the Deuteronomistic History: compli Cf. Nelson, Deuteronomy, ; Wazana, “Impaled Bodies,” ‒.  See also Rösel, Joshua, , and further discussion and references in Crouch, War and Ethics, ‒, ‒; Wazana, “Impaled Bodies,” , ‒.  See Na’aman, “Conquest of Canaan,” ‒; Ussishkin, “Symbols of Conquest”.  By contrast, Wazana, “Impaled Bodies,” ‒, ‒, holds that the motif of impaling the enemy king(s) is secondary in Josh :; :‒, and that the narrative drew upon Deut :‒ in order to polemicize against Assyrian war practice.  See e. g., Begg, “Function,” ‒.  See Seeligmann, “Menschliches Heldentum”; Amit, “Dual Causality”. By contrast, Nelson, Joshua, ,  opines that the report of defeat due to tactical error was subsequently provided with a theological reinterpretation.

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ance with Yhwh’s commandments brings victory, while disobedience, even at the level of the individual, is liable to bring disaster upon the entire people. If the story of the conquest of Ai is a Deuteronomistic composition, then there are no grounds to assume, from the outset, that the Achan incident is a secondary theological overlay. However, the way the Achan narrative interacts with different bodies of Pentateuchal laws can provide additional means for evaluating its redaction history and relation to the story of Ai.²⁸ The idea, that the conquest of Jericho was to be a first fruits offering dedicated wholly to Yhwh, presented an opportunity to consider the implications of appropriating that which has been devoted to the deity. The laws that mandate the ḥērem of the towns of Canaan are unconcerned with material booty since they are directed towards the annihilation of a people rather than the sacral devotion of goods. Instead, the matter of appropriating something that has been devoted as ḥērem is taken up by two late Deuteronomistic laws (Deut 7:25‒26, 13:13‒18).²⁹ The first law, in Deut 13:13‒18, deals with an apostate town that transfers its allegiance from Yhwh to other gods. Not only are the town and its people to be destroyed as mandated in an analogous political context by the Sefire treaty (KAI 222 C:1,12‒13), but also everything else within the town—living and inanimate—is to be burned as an offering to Yhwh (13:17). The implied rationale is that Yhwh asserts his sole sovereignty by repossessing the entire town in the form of a burnt offering.³⁰ The law concludes by warning against appropriating anything from the ḥērem so that Yhwh would turn from his anger. The second law or instruction, in Deut 7:25‒26, dictates how to properly dispose of foreign cult images taken in battle. These are to be completely burned. Even if they contain gold or silver, no part is to be taken, for whoever commits such a trespass will become ḥērem himself. These two laws deal with separate matters even though they share some language,³¹ as well as the admonition not to infringe upon that which is devoted to

 A different approach is followed by Fritz, Josua, ‒, ‒, according to which the story of the conquest of Ai was composed in the eighth century B.C.E on the basis of an early monarchic etiological tradition regarding the stone heap at Ai, while the Achan passage was first composed by the Deuteronomistic Historian. Compare also Kratz, Composition, ‒, ‒, .  Some, however, think that the Deuteronomistic conception of ḥērem included spoil as well, and see, e. g., Kaminsky, “Joshua ,” ‒; Achenbach, “Divine Warfare,” .  Compare Nelson, Joshua, .  Shared language includes the term ḥērem (Deut :; :), and the expression ‫שרף באש‬ (burn with fire, Deut :; :). Deut :‒ deals with Israelites who succumb to apostasy. Deut :‒ is the direct continuation of : (note the Wiederaufnahme in :b, a: ‫הם‬/‫ופסילי‬ ‫ )אלהיהם תשרפון באש‬and :, ‒ deal together with eliminating all that pertains to “Canaan-

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Yhwh. Both laws also share some striking parallels with the Achan passage. For example, the narrative opens in Josh 7:1 with the notice that Achan had taken something from the ḥērem (‫)ויקח … מן החרם‬, with the result that Yhwh’s anger burned (’‫)ויחר אף ה‬, while conversely, Deut 13:18 prohibits taking anything from the ḥērem (‫ )ולא ידבק בידך מאומה מן החרם‬so that Yhwh would no longer burn with anger (‫)למען ישוב ה’ מחרון אפו‬. Towards the end of the passage in Josh 7:21, Achan admits that he coveted (‫ )חמד‬items that included silver and gold (‫מאתיים‬ ‫)שקלים כסף ולשון זהב אחד חמשים שקלים משקלו‬, so he took them (‫)ואקחם‬, while conversely, Deut 7:25 prohibits coveting and taking the silver and gold of the cult figurines (‫)לא תחמד כסף וזהב עליהם ולקחת לך‬. Only in these two texts does the verb ‫ חמד‬occur in conjunction with gold and silver. Along with these unusual verbal analogies, we must weigh the fact that parallels to Deut 13:13‒18 and 7:25‒26 are distributed throughout the Achan passage in Josh 7.³² Thus, we must conclude that there is true literary interaction between the narrative and the laws. As a general rule, when one text separately interacts with two others, it seems more likely that a late scribe has drawn upon a body of authoritative literature, and less feasible that the single narrative exerted its influence upon two separate laws. In other words, the author of the Achan passage was familiar with both Deut 13:13‒18 and 7:25‒26 (both of which derive from sixth-fifth century B.C.E. revisions in Deuteronomy³³) and employed their language and themes in drafting the Achan passage. Yet the Achan narrative hardly seems to illustrate either of the laws. The plunder Achan coveted did not come from an apostate town, and although Achan is treated in the same fashion as the apostate town, nothing in the narrative intimates that he was not loyal to Yhwh.³⁴ Nor is there any hint that the

ite” cult. Alternately, Deut :‒ comprises an interpretive rewriting of :, and compare Schmitt, Du sollst, ; Rose, . Mose, , ; Achenbach, Israel, ‒, .  Deut :/Josh : to become ḥērem (‫ ;)היה ]ל[חרם‬Deut :/Josh : coveted and took gold and silver (‫ ;)חמד ולקח כסף וזהב‬Deut :/Josh : [take] from the ḥērem (‫)]לקח[ מן החרם‬ in conjunction with Yhwh’s burning anger (’‫חרון אף ה‬/‫ ;)חרה‬Deut :/Josh :‒ (judicial/oracular inquiry to establish guilt); Deut :‒/Josh :‒, metonymic representation of Achan’s tent comparable to the metonym of the apostate city and all within it (‫כל אשר‬ ‫בה‬/‫ )לו‬as subject to burning with fire (‫ ;)שרף באש‬Deut :/Josh : an eternal ruin (‫)תל עולם‬.  See e. g., Veijola, “Wahrheit und Intoleranz”; idem, . Buch Mose, ‒, ‒; Rose, . Mose, ‒, ‒. However, Veijola and Rose hold that the Achan passage (DtrN, according to Veijola) influenced the formulation of Deut :‒; :‒ (DtrB, according to Veijola) rather than the other way around. On Deut :‒ see also Nielsen, Deuteronomium, ‒; Dietrich, “Achans Diebstahl,” . On Deut :‒ see also Otto, “Treueid und Gesetz,” ‒; Pakkala, Intolerant Monolatry, ‒, ; idem, “Deuteronomium ,” ‒.  See also Mitchell, Together, .

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plunder Achan coveted consisted of foreign cult items forbidden by Deuteronomy 7:25‒26.³⁵ The sin attributed to Achan was appropriation of devoted items that should have been offered to Yhwh, and the author inferred that Achan’s act led to a type of contagion, by which all that came in contact with the misappropriated items became subject to ḥērem as well.³⁶ Since this theme is common to Deut 13:18 and 7:26 the author made further use of the language of the laws elsewhere in the narrative. In this case, the interaction between narrative and law is not illustrative or exegetical, but rather belongs to the category of creative intertextuality.³⁷ For example, the conclusion of the law regarding apostate town that required burning the town so that it would be a complete ruin for all time (‫תל עולם‬, Deut 13:17) was applied to the end of the conquest of Ai since it provided an appropriate etiology for the name Ai (Josh 8:28).³⁸ In a similar fashion, the author also made use of the language in Deut 17:2‒5,³⁹ which deals with the procedures to be carried out when prosecuting a case of apostasy, but without evoking the law itself. Thus far, it is clear that the scribe who drafted the Achan passage drew upon one of the latest layers of Deuteronomistic legislation in the book of Deuteronomy. In addition, the Achan passage also bears the marks of idiom and ideology of the Priestly and Holiness law corpora. The entire narrative opens with the comment that Israel had trespassed and violated the ḥērem, followed by the more specific statement that Achan is the guilty party. The opening clause characterizes the transgression as ‫מעל‬, which is a Priestly term that indicates misappropriation in the Priestly law corpus, especially of dedicated or sacral items (see

 See also Schmitt, Du sollst, ; Mitchell, Together, ‒; Nelson, Joshua, , contra Clements, “Achan’s Sin,” ‒, ; Dietrich, “Achans Diebstahl,” ‒.  Compare Hertzberg, Josua, Richter, Ruth, ‒; Butler, Joshua, .  Contrast Nelson, Joshua, : “Achan serves as a exemplary demonstration of Deut. :‒ and :.”  See also Fritz, Josua, .  On Deut , see Levinson, Deuteronomy, ‒; Nelson, Deuteronomy, ‒. The expression ‫ עבר ברית‬to abrogate a covenant (Josh :, ) is found in the Pentateuch only in Deut : (but cf. Deut :, where it indicates entering into a covenant), although it occurs elsewhere in the Deuteronomistic History in Josh :; Judg :;  Kgs :, and see Rose, . Mose, ; cf. Fritz, Josua, ; Nelson, Joshua, ; Dietrich, “Achans Diebstahl,” . The expression ‫( סקל באבנים‬Josh :) is found in the Pentateuch only in Deut :; :; :,  and recurs elsewhere as a means of execution only in  Kgs :. Josh : has been successively overwritten with three different means of execution, inspired by different legal intertexts, and see Kaminsky, “Joshua ,”  n. ; Nelson, Joshua,  for discussion of the textual variants.

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Lev 5:15, 21, 26:40; Num 5:6; cf. Ezek 14:13, 15:8, 17:20, 20:27, 39:23, 26).⁴⁰ This explicatory comment, that Israel had committed ‫מעל‬, is undoubtedly a late overwriting intended to justify the corporate punishment meted out on all Israel for the offense of the individual, Achan (cf. the corporate accusation in 7:11). Deuteronomistic scribes, of course, had no problem with collective punishment, so this obviously is a new revision designed to adapt the narrative to a Persian period view of individual reward and punishment.⁴¹ Other idioms found in the Achan passage that are characteristic of the Priestly law corpus include ‫( כחש‬Josh 7:11) and ‫( רגם‬7:25).⁴² Furthermore, the Achan passage also demonstrates ideas and themes that are at home in Priestly law. The notion that the inviolability of objects that have been devoted for sacral purpose is a source of “contagion,” is related to the Priestly concept of the contagion conveyed by sources of defilement.⁴³ But this does not necessarily imply a late origin, since this view could have its origins in the monarchic period temple cult. More significantly, Joshua’s exhortation that Achan confess his sin is unparalleled in the Deuteronomistic History, and might be inspired by the call in texts in the Priestly law corpus to confess transgressions of ‫( מעל‬Lev 26:40; Num 5:6‒7).⁴⁴ However, the Achan passage does not illustrate or interpret any specific Priestly law. Instead, it appears that the scribe drew upon Priestly

 See also Fritz, Josua, . On the Priestly concept of ‫ מעל‬see Milgrom, Cult and Conscience, ‒, esp. ‒; idem, “The Concept of Ma‛al”; Boda, “Confession as Theological Expression,” ‒.  On the Deuteronomistic view of collective retribution see Noth, Deuteronomistic History, ‒, ‒, and most recently Joo, Provocation and Punishment. By contrast, Nelson, Joshua, ,  holds that all Israel is implicated in Achan’s crime by virtue of the principle of “corporate solidarity”. Kaminsky, “Joshua ,” ‒, discusses the Achan passage in light of the Priestly concept of holiness, but without regard for its diachronic implications.  In the law corpora ‫ כחש‬occurs only in Lev :‒; :, and appears only twice more in the Pentateuch (Gen :; Deut :). The verb is noticeably absent from Deuteronomistic passages in the history work, and instead is found in Persian period additions (Josh :;  Kgs :). ‫ רגם‬occurs eight times in P (Lev : giving one’s seed over to Moloch; Lev : necromancers; Lev :, ,  cursing God; Num :‒ gathering wood on the Sabbath; cf. Num : Joshua and Caleb, against God’s command), compared to only once in Deut (: the rebellious son) and once in the DtrH ( Kgs :). In prophetic literature the verb occurs only in Ezek :; :.  Cf. Nelson, Joshua, .  On the Priestly doctrine of confession, see Milgrom, “Priestly Doctrine”; Boda, “Confession as Theological Expression,” ‒. Elsewhere in the Deuteronomistic History guilty parties spontaneously admit their sin after confrontation, and see, e. g.,  Sam :, ; :;  Sam :, and cf. Boecker, Redeformen, ‒.

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idiom and concepts in order to interpret and explicate the larger story of the conquest of Ai in Josh 7‒8. In conclusion, my evaluation of the relations between the narrative in Josh 7‒8 and Pentateuchal laws points to four different stages in the growth of the Ai and Achan story and that of the conquest narrative as a whole. In the first stage, Josh 6‒10 was designed to illustrate the application of the Deuteronomic rules of war in Deut 20:10‒14. This compositional layer should be tentatively assigned to the late seventh century B.C.E. In the second stage, the conquest narrative was revised to reflect Deuteronomistic ḥērem ideology. I suggest that this revision is best understood against the background of the Babylonian period.⁴⁵ In the third stage, the Deuteronomistic conquest narrative underwent non-Deuteronomistic revision. This is particularly evident with the addition of stories about Yhwh-fearing natives (Rahab and the Gibeonites) who succeed in circumventing the rule of ḥērem in order to conclude a pact with the Israelites and remain to live among them. I propose that these revisions were executed in reaction to the exclusionism fostered by the circles responsible for the book of Ezra-Nehemiah in the second half of the fifth century B.C.E.⁴⁶ The fourth stage, took place in the late fifth or early fourth century B.C.E., when scribes familiar with Priestly idiom, concepts and ideology further revised the narratives. The story of the Gibeonites (Josh 9) was overlaid with a thin Priestly layer that sought to minimize the part of Joshua in the affair with the Gibeonites.⁴⁷ The story of the conquest of Jericho (Josh 6) was massively revised in order to replace any military operation with a ceremonial procession of priests blowing trumpets and bearing the ark. As we have seen, the final form of the story of the conquest of Ai also bears the mark of themes and concepts drawn from the Priestly corpus. This is particularly striking in the Achan passage, where Priestly and late Deuteronomistic language and themes have been woven together. Accordingly, the story of Ai illustrates how the conquest narrative as a whole was reinterpreted and revised over a period of three hundred years or more, as scribes interacted with changing law corpora.

 Cf. Dietrich, “Achans Diebstahl,” ‒, who ascribes this revision to the early Persian period.  See Edenburg, “From Covenant to Connubium”; eadem, “Joshua ,” ‒, ‒.  See Edenburg, “Rewriting, Overwriting, and Overriding,” ‒.

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Bibliography Achenbach, Reinhard. Israel zwischen Verheißung und Gebot: Literarkritische Untersuchungen zu Deuteronomium 5‒11. EHS.T 23/422. Frankfurt a.M. et al.: Lang, 1991. —. “Divine Warfare and Yhwh’s Wars: Religious Ideologies of War in the Ancient Near East and in the Old Testament.” In The Ancient Near East in the 12th‒10th Centuries BCE: Culture And History, Proceedings of the International Conference Held at the University of Haifa, 25 May, 2010, edited by Gershon Galil et al., 1‒26. AOAT 392. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2012. Adam, Klaus-Peter. “A Didactic Case Narrative on Homicide Law: 1 Samuel 26.” In Law and Narrative in the Bible and in Neighbouring Ancient Cultures: Conference on “Abstract Law and Case Narrative in the Bible and in Neighbouring Ancient Cultures” at Marburg in September 2009, edited by idem et al., 99‒122. FAT II/54. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012. Amit, Yairah. (‫ כו‬,‫‘“[ כידונו של יהושע )יהושע ח יח‬And Joshua Stretched out the Javelin That Was in His Hand …’ (Joshua 8:19, 26)”]. Shnaton 5‒6 (1982): 11‒18. —. “The Dual Causality Principle and its Effects on Biblical Literature.” VT 37 (1987): 385‒ 400. Barmash, Pamela. “The Narrative Quandary: Cases of Law in Literature.” VT 54 (2004): 1‒16. Beentjes, Pancratius C. “Inverted Quotations in the Bible: A Neglected Stylistic Pattern.” Bib. 63 (1982): 506‒23. Begg, Christopher. “The Function of Josh 7:1‒8:29 in the Deuteronomistic History.” Bib. 67 (1986): 320‒34. Boda, Mark J. “Confession as Theological Expression: Ideological Origins of Penitential Prayer.” In The Origins of Penitential Prayer in Second Temple Judaism. Vol. 1 of Seeking the Favor of God, edited by idem et al., 21‒50. SBL.EJL 21. Atlanta: SBL, 2006. Boecker, Hans Jochen. Redeformen des Rechtslebens im Alten Testament. WMANT 14. 2nd, exp. edn. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1970. Boling, Robert G. Joshua. AB 6. New York: Doubleday, 1982. Brettler, Marc Zvi. The Creation of History in Ancient Israel. London: Routledge, 1995. Burnside, Jonathan. “Flight of the Fugitives: Rethinking the Relationship between Biblical Law (Exodus 21:12‒14) and the Davidic Succession Narrative (1 Kings 1‒2).” JBL 129 (2010): 418‒31. Butler, Trent C. Joshua. WBC 7. Waco: Word Books, 1983. Carmichael, Calum M. Law and Narrative in the Bible: The Evidence of the Deuteronomic Laws and the Decalogue. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1985. Chavel, Simeon. “Oracular Novellae and Biblical Historiography: Through the Lens of Law and Narrative.” Clio 39 (2009): 1 – 27. Clements, Ronald E. “Achan’s Sin: Warfare and Holiness.” In Shall Not the Judge of All the Earth Do What is Right?: Studies on the Nature of God in Tribute to James L. Crenshaw, edited by David Penchansky / Paul L. Redditt, 113‒26. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2000. Crouch, Carly L. War and Ethics in the Ancient Near East: Military Violence in Light of Cosmology and History. BZAW 407. Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 2009. Daube, David. Studies in Biblical Law. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1947. Dietrich, Walter. “Niedergang und Neuanfang: Die Haltung der Schlussredaktion des deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerkes zu den wichtigsten Fragen ihrer Zeit.” In The

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Crisis of Israelite Religion: Transformation of Religious Tradition in Exilic and Post-Exilic Times, edited by Bob Becking / Marjo C. A. Korpel, 45 – 70. OTS 42. Leiden et al.: Brill, 1999. —. “Achans Diebstahl (Jos 7): Eine Kriminalgeschichte aus frühpersischer Zeit.” In “Sieben Augen auf einem Stein” (Sach 3,9): Studien zur Literatur des Zweiten Tempels, Festschrift für Ina Willi-Plein zum 65. Geburtstag, edited by Friedhelm Hartenstein / Michael Pietsch, 57‒67. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 2007. Edenburg, Cynthia. “How (Not) to Murder a King: Variations on a Theme in 1 Sam 24; 26.” SJOT 12 (1998): 64 – 85. —. “Ideology and Social Context of the Deuteronomic Women’s Sex Laws (Deut 22:13‒29).” JBL 128 (2009): 43‒60. —. “Joshua 9 and Deuteronomy: An Intertextual Conundrum, the Chicken or the Egg?” In Deuteronomy in the Pentateuch, Hexateuch, and the Deuteronomistic History, edited by Konrad Schmid / Raymond F. Person, 115‒32. FAT II/56. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012. —. “Rewriting, Overwriting, and Overriding: Techniques of Editorial Revision in the Deuteronomistic History.” In Words, Ideas, Worlds in the Hebrew Bible: Essays in Honour of Yairah Amit, edited by Athalya Brenner / Frank H. Polak, 54‒69. Hebrew Bible Monographs 40. Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press, 2012. —. “From Covenant to Connubium: Persian Period Developments in the Perception of Covenant in the Deuteronomistic History.” In Covenant in the Persian Period, edited by Gerald N. Knoppers / Richard Bautch, 113‒32. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2015. Fishbane, Michael. Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel. 2nd edn. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988. Fritz, Volkmar. Das Buch Josua. HAT I/7. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck 1994. Gray, John. Joshua, Judges and Ruth. NCB. London: Nelson, 1967. Greenberg, Moshe. “Ḥerem.” In Encyclopaedia Judaica 9, 10‒13. 2nd edn. Detroit u. a.: Thomson Gale, 2007. Hertzberg, Hans W. Die Bücher Josua, Richter, Ruth. 3rd edn. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1965. Joo, Samantha. Provocation and Punishment: The Anger of God in the Book of Jeremiah and Deuteronomistic Theology. BZAW 361. Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 2006. Kaminsky, Joel S. “Joshua 7: A Reassessment of Israelite Conceptions of Corporate Punishment.” In The Pitcher Is Broken: Memorial Essays for Gösta W. Ahlström, edited by Steven W. Holloway / Lowell K. Handy, 315‒46. JSOT.S 190. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995. Knauf, Ernst A. Josua. ZBK.AT 6. Zürich: Theologischer Verlag, 2008. Kratz, Reinhard G. The Composition of the Narrative Books of the Old Testament, translated by John Bowden. London / New York: T&T Clark, 2005. Levinson, Bernard M. “Calum M. Carmichael’s Approach to the Laws of Deuteronomy.” HTR 83 (1990): 227‒57. —. Deuteronomy and the Hermeneutics of Legal Innovation. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997. Milgrom, Jacob. “The Priestly Doctrine of Repentance.” RB 82 (1975): 185‒205. —. Cult and Conscience: The Asham and the Priestly Doctrine of Repentance. SJLA 18. Leiden: Brill, 1976. —. “The Concept of Ma‛al in the Bible and the Ancient Near East.” JAOS 96 (1976): 236‒47.

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Mitchell, Gordon. Together in the Land: A Reading of the Book of Joshua. JSOT.S 134. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1993. Na’aman, Nadav. “The ‘Conquest of Canaan’ in the Book of Joshua and in History.” In From Nomadism to Monarchy: Archaeological and Historical Aspects of Early Israel, edited by Israel Finkelstein / idem, 218 – 81. Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi, 1994. Nelson, Richard D. Joshua: A Commentary. OTL. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997. —. Deuteronomy: A Commentary. OTL. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2002. Nielsen, Eduard. Deuteronomium. HAT I/6. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1995. Nihan, Christophe. “The Literary Relationship between Deuteronomy and Joshua: A Reassessment.” In Deuteronomy in the Pentateuch, Hexateuch, and the Deuteronomistic History, edited by Raymond F. Person / Konrad Schmid, 79‒114. FAT II/56. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012. Noort, Edward. “Das Kapitulationsangebot im Kriegsgesetz Dtn 20:10 ff. und in den Kriegserzählungen.” In Studies in Deuteronomy in Honour of C. J. Labuschagne on the Occasion of His 65th Birthday, edited by Florentino García Martínez et al., 197 – 222. VT.S 53. Leiden et al.: Brill, 1994. Noth, Martin. Das Buch Josua. HAT I/7. 3rd edn. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1971. —. The Deuteronomistic History. 2nd, rev. edn. JSOT.S 15. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1991. Otto, Eckart. “Treueid und Gesetz: Die Ursprünge des Deuteronomiums im Horizont neuassyrischen Vertragsrechts.” ZAR 2 (1996): 1‒52. Pakkala, Juha. Intolerant Monolatry in the Deuteronomistic History. SESJ 76. Helsinki: Finnish Exegetical Society, 1999. —. “Der literar- und religionsgeschichtliche Ort von Deuteronomium 13.” In Die deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerke: Redaktions- und religionsgeschichtliche Perspektiven zur “Deuteronomismus”-Diskussion in Tora und Vorderen Propheten, edited by Markus Witte et al., 125‒37. BZAW 365. Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 2006. Rofé, Alexander. “The Laws of Warfare in the Book of Deuteronomy: Their Origins, Intent and Positivity.” JSOT 32 (1985): 23 – 44. Römer, Thomas. The So-Called Deuteronomistic History; A Sociological, Historical and Literary Introduction. London / New York: T&T Clark, 2005. Rose, Martin. 5. Mose 12 – 25: Einführung und Gesetze. ZBK.AT 5.1. Zürich: Theologischer Verlag, 1994. Rösel, Hartmut N. Joshua. HCOT. Leuven: Peeters, 2011. Schmitt, Götz. Du sollst keinen Frieden schliessen mit den Bewohnern des Landes: Die Weisungen gegen die Kanaanäer in Israels Geschichte und Geschichtsschreibung. BWANT 91. Stuttgart et al.: Kohlhammer, 1970. Seeligmann, Isac L. “Menschliches Heldentum und göttliche Hilfe.” ThZ 19 (1963): 385‒411. Seidel, Moshe. “Parallels in the Book of Isaiah and the Book of Psalms.” Sinai 38 (1956): 149‒72.229‒42.272‒80 [Hebrew]. Ussishkin, David. “Symbols of Conquest in Sennacherib’s Reliefs of Lachish: Impaled Prisoners and Booty.” In Culture Through Objects: Ancient Near Eastern Studies in Honour of P.R.S. Moorey, edited by Timothy F. Potts et al., 207‒17. Oxford: Griffith Institute, 2003. van der Meer, Michaël N. Formation and Reformulation: The Redaction of the Book of Joshua in the Light of the Oldest Textual Witnesses. VT.S 102. Leiden / Boston: Brill, 2004.

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Van Seters, John. In Search of History: Historiography in the Ancient World and the Origins of Biblical History. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1983. Veijola, Timo. “Wahrheit und Intoleranz nach Deuteronomium 13.” ZThK 92 (1995): 287‒314. —. Das fünfte Buch Mose: Deuteronomium, Kapitel 1,1 – 16,17. ATD 8,1. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2004. Wazana, Nili. “’For an Impaled Body is a Curse of God’ (Deut 21:23): Impaled Bodies in Biblical Law and Conquest Narratives.” In Law and Narrative in the Bible and in Neighbouring Ancient Cultures: Conference on “Abstract Law and Case Narrative in the Bible and in Neighbouring Ancient Cultures” at Marburg in September 2009, edited by Klaus-Peter Adam et al., 69‒98. FAT II/54. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012. Wells, Bruce. “What is Biblical Law? A Look at Pentateuchal Rules and Near Eastern Practice.” CBQ 70 (2008): 223‒43.

Harald Samuel (Georg-August-Universität Göttingen)

Deuteronomic War Prescriptions and Deuteronomistic Wars* Subsequent to the articles on some case studies from the narratives of the Hexateuch, the aim of the following paper is twofold: It continues with an examination of two test cases from the Book of Joshua and the Book of Kings, thus following the narrative order of the Enneateuch (skipping Judges and Samuel); at the same time, some remarks on the redactional history of the laws of warfare in Deuteronomy itself are necessary to illuminate the presumptive interplay with the so-called Deuteronomistic History.¹

1. Laws of Warfare in the Book of Deuteronomy Besides the central law in Deut 20, there are three more sections concerned with warfare legislation: Deut 21:10 – 14, dealing with female war captives; 23:10 – 15, addressing the purity of the Israelite war camp; and 24:5, treating the case of the newlywed. I will concentrate on ch. 20 for reasons that will hopefully become clear soon. Let us start with some remarks on the redaction history of Deut 20. 1) There is general agreement that vv. 2– 4, the speech of the priest, constitute a later accretion.² They more or less explicate what is already stated in v. 1 and thus put the essence of God’s words in the priest’s mouth, introduced by an*

My heartfelt thanks go to Paul M. Kurtz and Shani Tzoref. They did their best to change German academic prose into proper English style. Wherever this did not happen, my own stubbornness is responsible.  As I still do not subscribe to the hypothesis of a Deuteronomistic History—neither in the classic Nothian form nor in its further development by Smend or Cross—a word of clarification may be in order: When used in this article, the term simply denotes the literary corpus from Deuteronomy to  Kings. Concerning the undeniable literary connection between these books and the connection’s development, cf. the model proposed by Kratz, Composition. I take the bibliographic knowledge of the aforementioned classics as well as the outlines of more recent discussion for granted. Since the question of a Deuteronomistic History does not play a major role in my argument, I will spare the readers a repetition of the well-known.  Cf. Schmitt, Der „Heilige Krieg“, . Despite the well-known problems of Numeruswechsel as a criterion, note the change from singular into plural in v.  ‫ כי תצא‬etc. →  ‫ כקרבכם‬MT, whereas the LXX stays with the singular: ὅταν ἐνγγίσῃς.

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other ‫( שמע ישראל‬v. 3)! There are other portions in Deuteronomy that show the same tendency of enhancing priestly authority. To my mind, these are the last redactional revisions of Deuteronomy driven by priestly interests.³ 2) Instead of the priest’s address, therefore, the speech of the scribe-officers (‫)שטרים‬⁴—i. e., vv. 5 – 8, 9—would once have followed v. 1. In that speech, however, there is a breakpoint in v. 8, where the officers start to speak anew (‫ויספו‬ ‫)השטרים לדבר‬. The command that anyone who is “afraid or disheartened should go back to his house, or he might cause the heart of his comrades to melt like his own” can nowadays be understood as marking the pacifist climax of the already utopian or at least impractical prescriptions in vv. 5 – 7, which make it highly improbable that we are dealing here with an actual state law from the Josianic period. Leaving (a)historical speculations aside, however, one has to note the resemblance of the literary motif with Judg 7:3. Given the renewed and differently-phrased introductory formula for the speech and the change in character and wording⁵ of the exemption, there is good reason to see v. 8 as another supplementation within its context.⁶ The observation that the topic of “fear” forms an inclusio with v. 1 might at first sight militate against this conclusion, yet in light of the other observations mentioned above, the (slightly) different wording rather suggests a secondary connection. If this verse is indeed a later supplement and furthermore dependent on Judg 7:3 on the literary level, then we thus have an interesting example of a narrative that directly influenced a prescription within the biblical legal corpus. 3) However, the remaining speech of the scribe-officers in vv. 5 – 7, 9 also raises some doubts. Coined as a law, v. 7—and only v. 7!—has a parallel in Deut 24:5: ‫ִכּי־יִ ַקּח ִאישׁ ִא ָשּׁה ֲח ָד ָשׁה ל ֹא ֵיֵצא ַבּ ָצָּבא ְול ֹא־ ַיֲעבֹר ָעָליו ְלָכל־ ָדָּבר‬ ‫ָנִקי יְִה ֶיה ְלֵביתוֹ ָשׁ ָנה ֶאָחת ְו ִשׂ ַמּח ֶאת־ִא ְשׁתּוֹ ֲא ֶשׁר־ָלָקח‬

 Cf. Samuel, Von Priestern, esp.  – . The conclusions concerning the literary-historical development of Deuteronomy parallel, in several aspects, Rofé’s idea of a DP, yet the characterisation and placement of that redactor within the broader literary-historical context (I would rather speak of PD) differ substantially.  QDeutk (frgs.  – :) and the Temple Scroll (col. LXII:[?], ) have ‫ שופטים‬instead. This interchange is common and certainly secondary here.  Cf., however, the small textual difference in the final clause of v. : Instead of MT’s ‫ולא‬, the Temple Scroll has ‫ פן‬in parallel to the preceding verses.  Cf. Hölscher, „Komposition und Ursprung,“  n. ; similarly Rofé, “Laws of Warfare,”  – , although he later ascribes vv.  –  to his DŠ stratum (ibid. ).

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Such a parallel is puzzling on the synchronic level. In 24:5, the rationale behind exempting the newlywed from all kinds of public service for one year—with the phrase “going out with the army” serving as a paradigm—is quite clear, and the topic of marriage forms the catchword linkage with the preceding verses. In 20:7, we can grasp how this rationale has changed, how the group of people exempted from war is expanded by analogy, and how the same motif is transferred from legal use into the different genre of an exhortatory (as against the encouraging intention of v. 1) speech.⁷ We thus have hyperboles that eventually contravene any legal rationale. A similar impression occurs when we compare vv. 5 – 7 to Deut 28:30: ‫ִא ָשּׁה ְתָא ֵרשׂ ְוִאישׁ ַאֵחר ישגלנה )יִ ְשׁ ָכֶּב ָנּה( ַבּיִת ִתְּב ֶנה ְול ֹא־ֵת ֵשׁב בּוֹ ֶכּ ֶרם ִתּ ַּטע ְול ֹא ְתַח ְלֶּלנּוּ‬ As these are the only two biblical passages that feature the triad of house, vineyard, and wife with almost identical wording,⁸ the assumption of a literary connection or inspiration of one passage by the other (= inner-biblical exegesis) does not seem to be out of the question.⁹ To be sure, such motifs are common to the ancient Near East, as, e. g., the Kirta epic shows: The sole survivor’ll shut his house./The widow’ll hire on for a fee. Even the ill will be carried in bed./Even the blind will blink his way. The new-wed groom will go forth; To another man he’ll drive his wife: To a stranger, his own true love. (CAT 1.14 col. II, ll. 43 – 50)¹⁰

This does not, however, invalidate the question as to whether such motifs might have been incorporated within their respective biblical contexts at a later stage or are, in fact, interrelated. Since Deut 28:30 is just one in a series of similarly structured curses, it seems well-embedded in its context, so I can find no reason

 For a detailed comparison, cf. Rofé, “Laws of Warfare,”  – .  Deut :’s vulgar form ‫( שגל‬cf. the euphemism ‫ שכב‬in the qeri) is lessened in : (‫;)לקח‬ furthermore, the sequence has changed.  Pace Smoak, “Building Houses and Planting Vineyards,”  –  esp. n. , who prefers the term “inner-biblical discourse”. However, to compare the two passages from Deuteronomy to Amos :; :; Isa : – ; Zeph :; Jer : – ; :,; :; Isa : – ; :, and Ezek :; :, he has to exclude Deut : and :aα from the discussion and thus fails to see the specific connections between them. In a similar way, Steymans, Deuteronomium ,  –  prefers to see „gleichartige Motivkomplexe“ at work. His arguments mainly affect the possibility of Deut  alluding to Deuteronomic laws. He does not discuss the reverse option.  Translation by Greenstein, „Kirta,“ .

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for a literary-historical differentiation. Considering the different genres, Deut 28:30 delivers the pattern for what in Deut 20:5 – 7 is turned into a speech aimed at preventing those curses. Although such narrative expansions of casuistic laws are not completely unheard-of in general, this one certainly stands out within the Deuteronomic legal corpus and remains stylistically remarkable.¹¹ If we follow this line of thinking one step further, it is difficult to see Deut 20:5 – 7 —with v. 1 opening the passage and v. 9 closing it—as a law in a strict sense but rather (if one allows for such anachronistic comparison) an “executive order”. What is more, there seems to have been an older transition from Deut 19:1– 13* to 21:1– 9*.¹² One can easily imagine how catchword linkage has been used to attach (1) Deut 20:10 – 20* to those passages, (2) 19:15 – 21 (as a generally younger parallel to 17:8 – 13*) to its preceding verses, and (3) finally 20:1, 5 – 7, 9 as a generalising introduction to the topic of warfare to 20:10 – 20.¹³ Therefore, although the single observations and possibilities are admittedly not the strongest arguments, in sum I tend to view Deut 20:1, 5 – 7, 9 as secondarily placed in front of 20:10 – 20*. If so, 24:5 and 28:30 may have been sources of inspiration for the supplementer who added vv. 1, 5 – 7, 9, what could help explain the doublets as well as the “scattering” of the legal material concerned with warfare.¹⁴ 3) The basic layer of the law of warfare in Deut 20 must thus be sought in vv. 10 – 20*.¹⁵ Within these verses, there is at least one more supplement, namely, vv. 15 – 18. As this is commonly agreed upon, my remarks may, again, remain short: vv. 10 – 14 refer to the besieging of cities in general, the offer to surrender, and the slaughtering of all the males in case of military capture, while females, little ones, cattle, and anything else in the city may be taken away as booty. Only vv. 15 – 18 introduce the distinction between “all the cities which are very far from you, which are not towns of the nations here” and “the towns of these peoples that Yhwh your God is giving you as an inheritance” (followed by the common list of these peoples). Concerning the latter, anything that breathes (‫ )כל־נשמה‬has

 A comparable case is the speech in Deut : – , yet for internal reasons those verses do not belong to the basic layer in Deut  as well, cf. Samuel, Von Priestern,  – . For a different approach to such questions, cf. the contribution by Assnat Bartor in this volume.  This, again, is quite commonly agreed upon, cf., i.a., Rofé, “Laws of Warfare,” .  Similarly Dietrich, Kollektive Schuld und Haftung,  –  esp. n. .  The diachronic relation between Deut : and : is thus similar to the explanation offered by Rofé, “Laws of Warfare,”  – , but what he considered traditional material I attribute to a first literary phase (:), and his deuteronomic redactor DŠ also becomes a later deuteronomistic hand.  Thus also Rofé, “Laws of Warfare,” , or Rose, . Buch Mose,  – .

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to be banned (‫“ )החרם תחרימם‬that they do not teach you to do according to all their abominable practices which they have done in the service of their gods, and so to sin against Yhwh your God”. The ban ideology is thus not part of the basic law in Deut 20, rather—as several commentators see it—a late(r) Deuteronomistic supplement.¹⁶ Subtracting the respective verses, we are left with the law of besieging a city in vv. 10 – 14 and the curious remarks about the trees and humans in vv. 19 – 20 as the core of Deuteronomy’s law of warfare in ch. 20.¹⁷ In an attractive hypothesis, Alexander Rofé has assumed this basic law, together with 24:5; 23:10 – 14; and 21:10 – 14, may have once formed an independent series of laws “written by a sage conversant with conscription procedures and with military life generally, but not directly involved therewith”.¹⁸ He was led to this conclusion by the shared larger topic, similarities in the opening phrases, and a related ethical approach, which he calls “element of universal compassion”.¹⁹ This writing, he further reasoned, may have been “composed quite a few generations later than David and Solomon–from the middle of the monarchic period onward”²⁰ and later on “[t]his little scroll was passed down to one of the writers of the Deuteronomic school, the author who recommended the unification of the judiciary, the appointment of officials (…) to render judgment in the gates and one judge ’in the place that the Lord shall choose’”.²¹ Tempting as this approach may be, it produces more problems than it can solve: The stylistic similarities go scarcely beyond what we expect of casuistic laws in general, and the overarching theme and alleged moral stance are too general criteria to be conclusive. To the contrary, the idea of keeping the Israelite war camp “holy” because God “walks in the midst of your camp” (Deut 23) recalls in many aspects the priestly legislation in Leviticus and Numbers. A com-

 Cf., i.a., Noort, „Kapitulationsangebot,“  – . According to the „Smend“ or „Göttingen“ model, this redactor would be DtrN, cf. Dietrich, “The Ban,” . In Rofé’s terminology, these verses belong to D (Rofé, “Laws of Warfare,”  – ), which precedes DP. One of the exceptions is Schmitt, Der „Heilige Krieg“,  – , who—in a rather short discussion—attributes vv.  –  to a pre-dtr tradition and can therefore detect the Deuteronomistic Historian in vv.  – , with only v.  then understood as a later (post-exilic) dtr supplementation. In this way, he deems the concept of ban as essential for DtrH—which, of course, has consequences for his analysis of the ban theme in the book of Joshua.  For further refinements of the analysis, which have no bearing for the purpose of this article, see Rose, . Buch Mose,  – , , followed, i.a., by Müller, „Jahwekrieg und Heilsgeschichte,“  with n. .  Rofé, “Laws of Warfare,” .  Rofé, “Laws of Warfare,” .  Rofé, “Laws of Warfare,” .  Rofé, “Laws of Warfare,” .

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mon pre-Deuteronomic source for all the above-mentioned laws thus seems rather unlikely. Furthermore, the rearrangement leading to the present order of the pericopes is difficult to explain. Why should anyone have done so and thereby torn apart a well-structured law—and not just tearing it apart but also disturbing the chronological order assumed by Rofé, starting with the persons to be exempted from military service (24:5), followed by the sanitary organisation of the camp (23:10 – 14), and only then speaking about besiegement and war captives (20:10 – 14; 21:10 – 14). Rofé has referred to catchword linkage to explain the present arrangement in Deuteronomy, which is certainly a promising approach. Nonetheless, it does not explain the necessity for rearrangement of the original law. And at least in one instance, the placement of ch. 20 between Deut 19 and 21:1– 9, Rofé must fall back on an “editorial mishap”²² since Deut 20, as it stands now, disrupts the original connection between Deut 19 and 21.²³ Beyond all the problems related to locating this pre-Deuteronomic “warfare scroll” historically and/or sociologically and the additional necessity of assuming mistakes during the transmission of the text,²⁴ there remains a literary problem, too: Even in its oldest graspable literary form, the law is formulated in the 2nd person singular like the rest of Ur-Deuteronomy, i. e., addressed to all Israel. As I prefer to hold to the literary form instead of entering the area of speculation about possible oral antecedents where a different audience may have been addressed,²⁵ I remain convinced that the law of Deut 20:10 – 14*, 19 f. from the beginning presupposes its Deuteronomic context. That (literary) context is, of course, decisive for the interpretation of this earliest version of the law: It is from the outset part of an address to Israel standing at the border of the land it is about to conquer.²⁶ That perspective does not necessarily preclude the interpretation of that law as timelessly valid, as other laws regarding life in the land show, too. Admittedly, it is only the promise in v. 16 and the list of the aboriginal inhabitants of the land in the supplemented v. 17 that

 Rofé, “Laws of Warfare,” .  See the remarks above.  Such certainly happened, yet the problem in this assumption is its arbitrariness, since many of the possible mistakes are unique by definition: There is no rationale behind them. However, certain kinds of scribal errors, well-known to everybody familiar with textual criticism, of course offer comparable cases and thus sometimes a rationale.  This would, incidentally, make the hypothesis even more uneconomic than it already is.  Cf. Kratz, „Der literarische Ort,“ for the earliest literary graspable form and function of Deuteronomy. With Deut : – * included we are at least one step further.

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make the above-presumed “historical” situation explicit²⁷ (at the same time transcending it through introduction of the said differentiation). Nonetheless, I would maintain that already in the basic version, the law of warfare gains its significance through focus on the conquest of the land, for what besiegement should be there when Israel would possess its land already? This perspective on the land standing at its frontier may substantiate another speculation on the imagined borders of the promised land. Simply following the plain narrative, the law is promulgated only after Israel had already conquered parts of its future home east of the Jordan. Of course, within the logic of the narrative, Deuteronomy only repeats what was already revealed. Still, I wonder whether positioning that law in Deuteronomy and not earlier could hint at its author envisioning a land of Israel within borders only west of the Jordan. There is, in any case, some reason to assume that the conquest stories in Numbers and in Deut 1– 3 are younger than Deut 20:10 – 20*. To summarise, the basic law of warfare probably comprised only vv. 10 – 14*, 19 f. It was not part of Ur-Deuteronomy but was rather included as part of a Fortschreibung. From the beginning, it was thus embedded in a larger historicising narrative. This context was made more explicit when the parenetic introduction including the required speech of the scribe-officers (vv. 1.5 – 7.9) had been added, with v. 1 recalling the exodus. Later accretions can be found in vv. 2– 4, v. 8, and vv. 15 – 18, the latter demanding the ban of the complete “Canaanite” population. How these relate to each other is difficult to determine without invoking more general literary theories. With those in mind, I tend to conclude that vv. 2– 4, introducing a priest into the scenery, possibly constitute the youngest embellishment.

2. Reflections of Deut 20 in Joshua Although warfare has not been a point of central interest in Ur-Deuteronomy, it became more prominent in the course of the book’s redaction history as the various additions show.²⁸ On the other hand, the so-called Deuteronomistic History

 Insofar Noort, „Kapitulationsangebot,“  is right. However, the observation that vv. – make the references explicit does not prove they were not (implicitly) inherent in vv.  – * if one regards the context.  Even more so, the Temple Scroll, cols. LVII – LVIII, expand on the topic as part of the King’s law. Regrettably, the LXX does not offer any major deviations from MT.

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contains an extensive series of stories dealing with war.²⁹ One would therefore expect it to be a most rewarding corpus for anyone in search of reflections of or interplay with Deut 20 in its war narratives. Apart from possible implications for the hypothesis of the so-called Deuteronomistic History, such instances of interaction may serve as test cases: If developments similar to the results of our redactional treatment of Deut 20 could be found in the books from Joshua to Kings, the above analysis would be bolstered. A good starting point for that search is the book of Joshua, for not only does it contain stories about war, but the conception of the ban (‫ )חרם‬also has its natural place of realisation in those very stories.³⁰ While already the redactional development of Josh 6 – 8 shows several interesting traces of interplay with Deut 20,³¹ Josh 9 is an even more illuminating case. That chapter’s interrelation with Deut 20 has been discussed several times,³² yet the results have differed considerably, mainly due to divergent views on the redactional history of the story. I would like to begin with two observations: 1) In its present form, the story is a “post-Deuteronomistic satire on the rule of ḥērem”.³³ 2) The narrative in Josh 10, which at least in a basic form belongs to the core narrative in Josh, presupposes a kind of peace between the Israelites and Gibeon.³⁴ That raises the more general question of whether it is possible to retrieve (literary) prestages of Josh 9. If not, then one has to assume Josh 9 as we now know it replaced an older version of the story, what Cynthia Edenburg has argued.³⁵ This is certainly an option to be reckoned with. In the case of Josh 9, however, there are enough incoherences within the text that point to redactional development. And whereas the supplementary ap Cf. alone the long list of passages compiled by Noort, „Kapitulationsangebot,“ that involve the siege of a city.  Beyond conceptual and/or implicit connections, which merit further exploration, the present form includes verbal parallels (compare, e. g., Deut : with Josh :: ‫ַו ֵיְּצאוּ ֵהם ְוָכל־ַמֲח ֵניֶהם ִע ָמּם‬ ‫אד‬ ֹ ‫ )ַעם־ ָרב ַכּחוֹל ֲא ֶשׁר ַעל־ ְשַׂפת־ַה ָיּם ָלר ֹב ְוסוּס ָו ֶרֶכב ַרב־ְמ‬and explicit back references (cf. Josh :: ‫ַו ַיּ ֶכּה‬ ‫ְיהוֹ ֻשׁ ַע ֶאת־ ָכּל־ָהָא ֶרץ ָהָהר ְוַה ֶנּ ֶגב ְוַה ְשֵּׁפָלה ְוָהֲא ֵשׁדוֹת ְוֵאת ָכּל־ַמְלֵכיֶהם ל ֹא ִה ְשִׁאיר ָשׂ ִריד ְוֵאת ָכּל־ַה ְנּ ָשָׁמה ֶהֱח ִרים‬ ‫) ַכֲּא ֶשׁר ִצ ָוּה ְיה ָוה ֱאל ֵֹהי יִ ְשׂ ָרֵאל‬.  Cf. the contribution by Cynthia Edenburg in this volume. If, as several scholars see it (cf. the discussion above), already the basic law of warfare in Deut : –  is a supplementation to Ur-Deuteronomy, this would have consequences for the classification of the redactional layers in Josh  –  as well.  Cf. Edenburg, “Joshua  and Deuteronomy,” for bibliographic references.  Edenburg, “Joshua  and Deuteronomy,” . Cf. also the remarks by Blum, „Überlegungen zur Kompositionsgeschichte,“ , about a “priestly” revision.  Unless one deletes the respective references to that, cf. the analysis by Latvus, “From army campsite to partners in peace”.  Edenburg, “Joshua  and Deuteronomy,”  – .

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proach may have its limits, in Josh 9 a quite elegant solution seems to be possible, as Ernst Axel Knauf has shoewed in his commentary.³⁶ According to him, the core of the story comprises vv. 3*(without Ai), 6*(without the speech), 11*(the last sentence), 15a. This (possible) solution was further refined by a proposal I owe to my colleague Christoph Berner:³⁷ Instead of v. 6b*, 11*, the communication between Joshua and the Gibeonites is to be found in v. 8a, leading alternatively to Josh 9:3, 6a, 8a, 15aα as the basic layer. This likewise corresponds exactly to the back references in Josh 10:6. Whatever the details may be,³⁸ the above analysis leads to the hypothesis that there was indeed an older story reflecting the possibility of reaching a peaceful agreement in the conquest narrative. In other words, apart from the pre-Deuteronomistic traditions found in Josh 6 and 8, which simply narrate the conquest of Jericho and Ai, Josh 9 is a “Deuteronomistic” counterpart to the basic form of the law of warfare in Deut 20:10 – 14*. This makes the notion of a pre-Deuteronomistic Gibeon story hardly tenable. Furthermore, the later differentiation within Deuteronomy’s law of besieging through the addition of vv. 15 – 18 necessitated or at least triggered a reworking of the story in Josh 9.³⁹ Only now the Gibeonites had to become tricksters pretending to arrive from far away.⁴⁰

3. Reflections of Deut 20 in Kings After this strong example from the book of Joshua, the inquiry into the so-called Deuteronomistic History is rather underwhelming. Although there are, of course, abundantly more occurrences of war, besieging, and peace-making, most of them are scarcely more than dry notes, and only a small number of them is reminiscent of Deut 20 at all. One of the few exceptions is 1 Sam 15, Saul’s sparing of Agag the Amalekite, which forces Samuel to enforce the ban.⁴¹ The chapter is a

 Knauf, Josua,  – ; cf. also Latvus, God, Anger and Ideology,  – .  Cf. Berner, “Gibeonite Deception”.  See Berner, “Gibeonite Deception,” for a detailed treatment of the story.  Blum, „Überlegungen zur Kompositionsgeschichte,“ , sees the „Sachzusammenhang mit Dtn , – “ on the deuteronomistic level, compared to a pre-deuteronomistic core of the Gibeon story. Given the redactional development in Deut , the picture is more complex.  See again Berner, “Gibeonite Deception,” for a description of the story’s redactional development as well as its interplay with Deut .  Another, more remote reference might be found in  Kgs : – , a somewhat awkward note with respect to syntax and content on Solomon’s forced workers.

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rather late midrashic expansion of the Saul story that delivers another justification for God’s rejection of Saul’s kingship.⁴² As such, it certainly presupposes the inclusion of the ban ideology in Deut 20. Furthermore, in its essence, this story is not about besieging a city,⁴³ not even a story about war, but a story about ‫ חרם‬as criterion for obedience to God.⁴⁴ The connection to Deut 20 is thus looser than one might think at first glance. All this makes 1 Sam 15 a less rewarding example for our purposes. In light of this, we might proceed to the book of Kings, where we find a less secure and slightly elusive but nonetheless interesting candidate: 1 Kgs 20. The story there differs from the previously considered ones insofar as it reports the war of Ben-Hadad, the king of Aram, against Ahab, the king of Israel in Samaria. Hence, Israel is the besieged party. Ben-Hadad gathers his army alongside 32 vassal kings, horses, and chariots (‫ )סוס ורכב‬and starts the besiegement of Samaria (v. 1). He then enters into negotiations with the Israelite king (vv. 2– 3). Indeed, Ahab offers his submission, yet Ben-Hadad is eager for more booty. This hubris leads the king of Israel, the elders, and the people to cautious opposition (vv. 8 – 9) and finally to open war (vv. 10 – 12). In the presence of a great multitude attacking Aramaeans, a prophet delivers the encouraging word of God to Ahab (v. 13): ‫ְוִה ֵנּה ָנִביא ֶאָחד ִנ ַגּשׁ ֶאל־ַאְחָאב ֶמֶלְך־יִ ְשׂ ָרֵאל ַו ֹיּאֶמר ֹכּה ָאַמר ְיה ָוה ֲה ָרִאיָת ֵאת ָכּל־ֶהָהמוֹן ַה ָגּדוֹל ַה ֶזּה‬ ‫ִה ְנ ִני ֹנְתנוֹ ְב ָי ְדָך ַהיּוֹם ְו ָי ַדְע ָתּ ִכּי־ֲא ִני ְיה ָוה‬ As the reader might expect, the Israelites win the battle (vv. 19 – 21). This does not save them for long, though, since only one year later Ben-Hadad levies a new army with many horses and chariots. His counsellors labour under the (for them tragic) misapprehension that the God of the Israelites is a god of the hills and that this fact alone was the reason why the Aramaeans had lost (v. 23). This time, they want to fight in the plains so they can prevail (v. 25).

 That does not exclude the possibility of redactional growth, see Heinrich, David und Klio,  – . Critically against Heinrich’s model and especially his „schmale Grundschicht,“ Dietrich, Samuel,  –  (the quotation on  n. ). However, Dietrich’s basic layer corresponds, in fact, to a large extent to Heinrich’s reconstruction, apart from a few more verses which he skips.  The appearance of a ‫ עיר עמלק‬is surprising. Although one cannot rule out the possibility that an “enclosed settlement” (whether invented or once real) is envisaged here (cf. Dietrich, Samuel,  – , and the bibliographic references there), the impression remains that a “city of the Amalekites” had to enter the stage because of Deut : – .  Thus Schmitt, Der „Heilige Krieg“, : “Es geht hier deutlich wiederum nicht primär um die Konzeptualisierung des Krieges, sondern um den ḥērem als Meßschnur des Gehorsams.”

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Again, the Israelites are only few while “Aram filled the land” (‫וארם מלאו‬ ‫)את־הארץ‬. As the pious reader may anticipate, God is powerful in the plains as well, so the Israelites win the battle (v. 29). They chase the Aramaeans to Aphek, where some 27,000 poor wretches are killed by the city wall falling upon them (v. 30). Some Aramaeans, among them the king, survive. They hope for Ahab’s mercy and are not disappointed: Ahab pardons them and even makes a covenant (‫ )ברית‬with Ben-Hadad (v. 34). At this point, someone from among the “sons of the prophets” enters the stage, seeks a beating by his fellows in preparation of symbolic action, and lies in wait for the king (vv. 35 – 40). His message for the king is bad news: Because the king had let go the man “whom I (scil. God) had devoted to destruction” (‫)את־איש־חרמי‬, the Israelite king himself will become bail for the king of Aram, and the Israelites will become bail for the people of Aram (vv. 41– 42). After this announcement of damnation, the king goes to his house, understandably “resentful and sullen” (v. 43).⁴⁵ Indeed, he will be killed in the battle of Ramoth-Gilead a few years later (1 Kgs 22), whereas the kingdom of Israel will finally fall to the Assyrians. Before we can determine what all this has to do with Deut 20, a few words on redaction history are in order. As Hermann-Josef Stipp and others have established, the war stories in 1 Kgs 20 and 22 must be younger than the Naboth story, which ends with Ahab’s repentance and God’s postponement of punishment (1 Kgs 21:27– 29).⁴⁶ However, the Naboth story itself is supplementary to the Elijah stories in 1 Kgs 17– 19 and is, in all probability, a post-exilic composition.⁴⁷ Considering that the Elijah cycle, in turn, is an “Einschreibung” to the chronological framework of the so-called Deuteronomistic History, 1 Kgs 20 and 22 might be rather young texts.⁴⁸ In terms of “Deuteronomism”, both chapters would then be “late Deuteronomistic” at the earliest, possibly “post-Deuteronomistic”.⁴⁹ Thus, again, the existence of the bigger part of Deut 20 can be expected.

 Cf.  Kgs :!  Stipp, „Ahabs Buße“.  Cf. Rofé, “The Vineyard of Naboth,” and Blum, „Nabotüberlieferungen“.  Whether they belong to an older, initially independent cycle of stories (thus Dietrich, Prophetie und Geschichte,  – ) is difficult to decide but does not have to be for the purpose of this paper. In any case, I see only few arguments pointing in such a direction.  I leave the question as to whether the chapter might have undergone redactional expansion undecided; but cf. the remarks in Schmitt, Der „Heilige Krieg“,  – .

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The clearest confirmation for the validity of this assumption is the occurrence of the prophet in v. 13. Even if his words differ from Deut 20:3 – 4,⁵⁰ they convey the same basic message. The second difference is the status of the person speaking: He is a prophet, not a priest. Yet since we are in the secessionist northern realm, there is no righteous priest to be expected, so only prophets can mediate God’s will. In line with the narrative world of the book, 1 Kgs 20:13 is a reasonably clear adaptation of Deut 20:2– 4. Yet another element from Deut 20 can be found in the story. While besieging Samaria, Ben-Hadad conducts negotiations with the Israelite king (1 Kgs 20:2 – 3). He does so, of course, not because he is well-versed in the Torah, but rather because it is militarily reasonable. The exacerbated conditions of capitulation he dictates after Ahab already had offered to surrender display first and foremost Ben-Hadad’s hubris. However, this second course of negotiations also contradicts the rules for “just war” in Deut 20, according to which “answering peace” by the besieged city should rescue it. In this way, Ben-Hadad shows his iniquitous, i. e., very “non-Deuteronomic”, character. One may ask whether such is to be expected. No and yes! No, because the foreign king in that story is the villain and, hence, behaves like a villain must behave. Yes, because the description of his behaviour follows the logic of the biblical writers. Improper behaviour means, even for a naturally ignorant Aramaean, transgression of what God has commanded. Very illuminating in this sense is the speech of the Rabshakeh in 2 Kgs 18 – 19. Of course, he is mistaken and an evildoer, yet the logic inherent in his speech is that of a pious Judean writer, not that of an—however sophisticated and propagandistically ingenious —address by an Assyrian military officer.⁵¹ It comes as no surprise that the speech is held in Hebrew! Notwithstanding the fact that these poor foreigners have no chance to behave as good Deuteronomists, this does not prevent their failure to be polemically exploited.⁵² But whereas the second speech of the Rabshakeh in 2 Kgs 18:28 – 35 is the result of redactional expansion, based on the shorter account in 18:13 – 16 about Hezekiah and Sennacherib,⁵³ the two-faced course of negotiations by Ben-Hadad in 1 Kgs 20 is laid out like this from the beginning, perhaps based on 2 Kgs 18. And whereas in 2 Kgs 18 there is no indication that the expansion had Deut 20 in mind, 1 Kgs 20:13 is a clear reference to

 The “missing” parallel to Deut : is partly explicable because Ben-Hadad goes to war with Israel, not the other way round.  Cf. Rudman, “Is the Rabshakeh,” and Höffken, „Die Rede des Rabsake“.  Rabbinic literature provides many more examples for foreigners following the pious logic of the sages while at the same time deliberately transgressing others.  Cf. Kratz, “Isaiah and the Siege of Jerusalem,” for a more thorough analysis of the material.

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the law of warfare. Therefore, the narration in 1 Kgs 20 may purposefully present Ben-Hadad as the counter-image of a just king or the Israelite people conducting war according to Deut 20. This interpretation is supported by a third element recalling Deut 20: the ban. Ahab is condemned because he had “let the man go whom I (scil. God) had devoted to destruction” (‫)את־איש־חרמי‬. One may wonder how he—as against Saul—should have known he was obliged to do so. The Aramaeans do not belong to the aboriginal population of the land. Also Joram, the later king of Israel, did not have to slaughter the prisoners of war, according to what Elisha the prophet had told him (2 Kgs 6:21– 22). On the other hand, after their defeat the Aramaeans fled to a city (within Israel) and were thus besieged. Peace already had been rejected prior to this by the Aramaean king, so there was no need for any negotiations. Nonetheless, the meaning of the ban here is different from its function in Deuteronomy and Joshua. In 1 Kgs 20 the law of warfare is abstracted from its “historical” context, that is, the conquest of the land already accomplished, and interpreted as timeless valid. The transgression of the law is simply used as just another element to show the condemnation of the (northern) Israelite kingdom—the king and the people! The parallel to Saul’s rejection according to 1 Sam 15 immediately comes to mind. As already indicated above, 1 Kgs 20 might be another “post-Deuteronomistic” text.⁵⁴

4. Conclusion Although one might have expected more than a few war narratives in Samuel– Kings to have undergone late or post-Deuteronomistic reworking on the basis of Deut 20, even clear references to Deut 20 are, in fact, rather scarce. According to the above analysis, 2 Kgs 20 is one of these rare instances. However, this text already presupposes the latest layers of Deut 20 and conceptualises a different kind of war, i. e., one against Israel. Likewise, 1 Sam 15 seems to presuppose the very Fortschreibung that included the ban ideology into the law of warfare, i. e., Deut 20:15 – 18, and the text has an interest only in this specific aspect. On the other hand, we find rather un-Deuteronomistic elements connected to our topic in Samuel–Kings, e. g., the oracular-like procedures in 1 Sam 30:7– 8; 2 Sam 2:1; and 2 Kgs 13:14– 20. Because of their “un-Deuteronomistic” character, Rofé and others have perceived them as pre-Deuteronomic. Whether or not this assumption is correct, the same elements surface in late biblical texts as well (cf.

 Cf. Schmitt, Der „Heilige Krieg“,  – .

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Judg 20) and even reappear in texts like the Temple Scroll, albeit admittedly in a slightly more “orthodox” manner.⁵⁵ Since this “more ‘orthodox’ manner” fulfills our expectations in a more satisfactory way, the question as to why there is no critical stance towards such practises in Samuel–Kings and why we do not find a reshaping similar to the findings in Josh 9 becomes even more urgent. Apparently, our expectations were—at least in part—wrong in a sense. A pivotal point is our very understanding of “redaction”. Although the study of war narratives offers only a limited insight into the larger narrative complex, it provides, nonetheless, some important clues. If we accept the assumption that the law of warfare does not constitute one of the central laws in Deuteronomy and therefore that one need not expect a reflection of all its stages in all the books of the Former Prophets, we must also accept the—in fact banal—insight that redaction can occur as a locally restricted phenomenon. Consequently, the search for large-scale repercussions may in some cases be vain in the end. As yet another consequence, it is virtually impossible to combine all detectable small-scale revisions and expansions into a simple three-layer model for example. Not only is restriction to a certain “maximum” number of literary layers arbitrary, but it does not match the complexity of the textual history, either. Despite all these considerations, one should ask whether the observable difference in intensity of various reworkings in light of Deut 20’s own development (as only one example within the evolving book of Deuteronomy) might point to different kinds or phases of Deuteronomism in, e. g., Joshua on the one hand and Samuel–Kings on the other and may therefore disclose some aspects of the genesis of the so-called Deuteronomistic History. This idea is anything but new,⁵⁶ and the data collected above do not suffice to pose anything more than a conceptual sketch: – a first phase of Deuteronomism in Samuel–Kings, mainly interested in “cult unity”, wherein reflections of Deuteronomy’s law of warfare are naturally missing as Deut 20 was not yet part of the book – a later phase of Deuteronomism, detectable in Joshua, where already the basic Deuteronomistic redaction presupposes Deut 20; this phase did not necessarily yield a full-length revision that included Samuel–Kings, so we need not expect the same picture as in Joshua – later revisions in Samuel–Kings that introduce exemplary aspects of Deut 20 and thus colour the books in a more fully Deuteronomistic manner  This last point shows once more the obvious importance of early Jewish Literature for the interpretation of texts that have become “biblical” and for understanding their literary-historical formation.  Cf., i.a., the proposal by Kratz, Composition.

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The “better” Deuteronomists, in any case, can be found in later compositions like Chronicles and Maccabees, as the following papers will show.

Bibliography Berner, Christoph. “The Gibeonite Deception: Reflections on the Interplay between Law and Narrative in Josh 9.” forthcoming. Blum, Erhard. “Die Nabotüberlieferungen und die Kompositionsgeschichte der Vorderen Propheten.” In Schriftauslegung in der Schrift. Festschrift für Odil Hannes Steck zu seinem 65. Geburtstag, edited by Reinhard G. Kratz et al. BZAW 300. Berlin / New York: Walter de Gruyter 2000, 111 – 28. [reprinted in idem. Textgestalt und Komposition. Exegetische Beiträge zu Tora und Vordere Propheten. FAT 69. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck 2010, 355 – 74]. —. “Überlegungen zur Kompositionsgeschichte des Josuabuches.” In The Book of Joshua, edited by Ed Noort, 137 – 57. BETL 250. Leuven et al.: Peeters, 2012. Dietrich, Jan. Kollektive Schuld und Haftung. Religions- und rechtsgeschichtliche Studien zum Sündenkuhritus des Deuteronomiums und zu verwandten Texten. ORA 4. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck 2010. Dietrich, Walter. Prophetie und Geschichte. Eine redaktionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung zum deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerk. FRLANT 108. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1972. —. “The ‘Ban’ in the Age of Israel’s Early Kings.” In Origins of the Ancient Israelite States, edited by Volkmar Fritz / Philip R. Davies, 196 – 210. JSOT.S 228. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1996. —. Samuel. 1Sam 13 – 26. BKAT 8/2. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Theologie, 2015. Edenburg, Cynthia. “Joshua 9 and Deuteronomy: An Intertextual Conundrum, the Chicken or the Egg?” In Deuteronomy in the Pentateuch, Hexateuch, and the Deuteronomistic History, edited by Konrad Schmid / Raymond F. Person, 115‒32. FAT II/56. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012. Greenstein, Edward L. “Kirta.” In Ugaritic Narrative Poetry, edited by Simon B. Parker, 9 – 48. SBL.WAW 9. Atlanta, Ga.: Scholars Press, 1997. Heinrich, André. David und Klio. Historiographische Elemente in der Aufstiegsgeschichte Davids und im Alten Testament. BZAW 401. Berlin / New York: Walter de Gruyter, 2009. Höffken, Peter. “Die Rede des Rabsake vor Jerusalem (2 Kön. xviii / Jes. xxxvi) im Kontext anderer Kapitulationsforderungen.” VT 58 (2008): 44 – 55. Hölscher, Gustav. “Komposition und Ursprung des Deuteronomiums.” ZAW 40 (1922): 161 – 255. Knauf, Ernst A. Josua. ZBK.AT 6. Zürich: Theologischer Verlag, 2008. Kratz, Reinhard G. The Composition of the Narrative Books of the Old Testament, translated by John Bowden. London: T&T Clark, 2005 (Original German version, Die Komposition der erzählenden Bücher des Alten Testaments: Grundwissen der Bibelkritik. UTB 2157. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000). —. “Der literarische Ort des Deuteronomiums.” In Liebe und Gebot. Studien zum Deuteronomium. Festschrift zum 70. Geburtstag von Lothar Perlitt, edited by idem /

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Hermann Spieckermann, 101 – 20. FRLANT 190. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000. —. “Isaiah and the Siege of Jerusalem.” In New Perspectives on Old Testament Prophecy and History: Essays in Honour of Hans M. Barstad, edited by Rannfrid Thelle et al., 143 – 60. VT.S 168. Leiden / Boston: Brill, 2015. Latvus, Kari. “From army campsite to partners in peace: The changing role of the Gibeonites in the redaction process of Josh. x 1 – 8; xi 19.” In “Lasset uns Brücken bauen…”: Collected Communications to the XVth Congress of the International Organization for the Study of the Old Testament, Cambridge 1995, edited by Matthias Augustin et al., 111 – 15. BEATAJ 42. Frankfurt et al.: Peter Lang, 1998. —. God, Anger and Ideology: The Anger of God in Joshua and Judges in Relation to Deuteronomy and the Priestly Writings. JSOT.S 279. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1998. Müller, Reinhard. “Jahwekrieg und Heilsgeschichte.” In ZThK 106 (2009): 265 – 83. Noort, Edward. “Das Kapitulationsangebot im Kriegsgesetz Dtn 20:10 ff. und in den Kriegserzählungen.” In Studies in Deuteronomy in Honour of C.J. Labuschagne on the Occasion of His 65th Birthday, edited by Florentino García Martínez et al., 197 – 222. VT.S 53. Leiden et al.: Brill, 1994. Rofé, Alexander. “The Laws of Warfare in the Book of Deuteronomy: Their Origins, Intent and Positivity.” JSOT 10/32 (1985): 23 – 44. —. “The Vineyard of Naboth: The Origin and Message of the Story.” VT 38 (1988): 89 – 104. Rose, Martin. 5. Buch Mose. ZBK.AT 5. Zürich: Theologischer Verlag, 1994. Rudman, Dominic. “Is the Rabshakeh Also Among the Prophets? A Rhetorical Study of 2 Kings xviii 17 – 35.” VT 50 (2000): 100 – 10. Samuel, Harald. Von Priestern zum Patriarchen. Levi und die Leviten im Alten Testament. BZAW 448. Berlin / Boston: de Gruyter, 2014. Schmitt, Rüdiger. Der „Heilige Krieg“ im Pentateuch und im deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerk. Studien zur Forschungs-, Rezeptions- und Religionsgeschichte von Krieg und Bann im Alten Testament. AOAT 381. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2011. Smoak, Jeremy D. “Building Houses and Planting Vineyards: The Early Inner-Biblical Discourse on an Ancient Israelite Wartime Curse.” JBL 127 (2008): 19 – 35. Steymans, Hans Ulrich. Deuteronomium 28 und die adê zur Thronfolgeregelung Asarhaddons. Segen und Fluch im Alten Orient und in Israel. OBO 145. Freiburg: Universitätsverlag Freiburg Schweiz / Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1995. Stipp, Hermann-Josef. “Ahabs Buße und die Komposition des Deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerks.” Bib. 76 (1995): 471 – 97 [reprinted in idem. Alttestamentliche Studien. Arbeiten zu Priesterschrift, Deuteronomistischem Geschichtswerk und Prophetie. BZAW 442. Berlin / Boston: de Gruyter, 2013, 269 – 92].

Sebastian Grätz (Johannes Gutenberg-Universität Mainz)

Beobachtungen zu Rezeption und Interpretation von Kriegsgesetzen des Pentateuchs in den Büchern der Chronik I. Einführung Die Bücher der Chronik schreiben Geschichte im besten Sinne: Sie stellen die Vergangenheit im Lichte zeitgenössischer Interessen und Fragestellungen dar. So schließt nach der „genealogischen Vorhalle“¹ in 1 Chr 1– 9 und dem kurzen Intermezzo des Königtums Sauls (1 Chr 10,1– 14a) ab 1 Chr 10,14b direkt das davidische Königtum an, das nun die ungeteilte Aufmerksamkeit der weiteren Erzählung erhält – aber wahrscheinlich auch nur deshalb, weil dieses Königtum in unlösbarem Zusammenhang mit dem Tempel in Jerusalem, dem eigentlichen hermeneutischen Anker der Autoren, stand. Dieser Tempel – und damit auch sein den Autoren vor Augen stehender Nachfolger – wird als das religiöse Zentrum der Welt beschrieben, dem die gesamte Menschheit zugeordnet ist.² Bereits bei der Überführung der Bundeslade nach Jerusalem wird in 1 Chr 16,8 – 36 König David ein Lied in den Mund gelegt, das aus Ps 96; 105 und 106 eigens komponiert wurde³ und die Völkerwelt dem minutiös geplanten Heiligtum zuordnet. Dabei wird einerseits die Heilsgeschichte Israels herausgehoben (1 Chr 16,13 – 21), aber andererseits durch die Rezeption von Ps 96 auch der Bezug zu den Völkern hergestellt: Der Psalm stellt Jhwhs Tätigkeit als Weltschöpfer und seine Herrschaft über die Erde heraus. Aus diesem Grunde werden auch die Völker der Erde Jhwh und seinem Heiligtum zugeordnet. Dies hat Konsequenzen (1 Chr 16,28 – 29): 28

Bringt dar für Jhwh, ihr Sippen der Völker, bringt dar für Jhwh Lob und Ehre! 29 Bringt dar für Jhwh die Ehre seines Namens, bringt Gaben/Tribute (minḥāh)⁴, und tretet vor ihn hin! In heiligem Schmuck werft euch nieder vor Jhwh.

 Vgl. Rothstein / Hänel, Kommentar zum ersten Buch der Chronik, .  Vgl. zum Folgenden Grätz, „Gott und die Völker,“  ff.  Vgl. Japhet, Chronicles,  ff.  Zu der Wendung nśʾ minḥāh als Darbringen von Tributen im Sinne einer politischen Unterwerfung vgl. Ri ,;  Sam ,.;  Chr ,. Zum Verständnis von  Chr , als „Gabe“ und nicht etwa „Opfer“ vgl. auch Fabry, „‫מנחה‬,“ .

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Es handelt sich bei diesem Text der Chronik um das Zitat eines Zitats, das ursprünglich in Ps 29,1– 2 beheimatet ist, das aber statt der dort genannten benê ʾaelohîm die „Sippen der Völker“ nennt. Diese werden nun in Ps 96,7– 8 religiös aktiv, kommen nach Jerusalem, bringen Spenden dar und üben vor Jhwh Proskynese. Eine Nähe zur Tradition Deuterojesjas und der „Völkerwallfahrt zum Zion“ (Jes 2,2– 5; Jes 51,4– 5; Mi 4,1– 5) ist deutlich.⁵ Festzuhalten ist an dieser Stelle Folgendes: Bereits bei seiner Indienstnahme durch David erhält das Jerusalemer Lade-Heiligtum eine deutliche Programmatik: Die zitierten Psalmen ordnen dieses Heiligtum der Völkerwelt als deren wahren Kultort zu. Die Chronik unternimmt es in der folgenden Darstellung, diesen Anspruch auch geschichtlich einzulösen, wenn nach dem wundersamen Abzugs Sanheribs in 2 Chr 32,22– 23 nun die allseitige Anerkennung Jhwhs und seines Königs Hiskija festgestellt wird: 22

So befreite Jhwh den Hiskija und die Einwohner Jerusalems aus der Hand Sanheribs, des Königs von Assur, und aus der Hand aller (Feinde). Er verlieh ihnen ringsum Ruhe ⁶. 23 Viele brachten Gaben/Tribute (minḥāh) für Jhwh nach Jerusalem und kostbare Geschenke (migdānôt) für Hiskija, den König von Juda. Er war seitdem erhaben in den Augen aller Völker.

Das mit guten Gründen hier konjizierte Thema der „Ruhe ringsumher“ bezieht sich wie im Deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerk auf die Bedrohung von außen, die nun abgewendet ist. Insofern ist das „viele“ (rabbîm) am Beginn von V. 23, entsprechend den „Völkern“ am Ende des Verses, auf dieses Außen, die Nachbarn zu beziehen. Der kurze Blick auf das Thema der Völker scheint hier angebracht, weil deutlich wird, dass auch diese dem Jhwh-Kult in Jerusalem zugeordnet werden; und zwar nicht nur eschatologisch, wie 1 Chr 16,8 – 36 vielleicht verstanden werden kann, sondern auch geschichtlich,⁷ wenn der Abzug Sanheribs als Machterweis Jhwhs gedeutet wird, dem nun allseitige Anerkennung zukommt. Insofern stellt sich die Frage von möglichen Kriegshandlungen und ihrer geschichtlichen Darstellung in verschärfter Weise: Wie lässt sich der überlieferte Kriegsfall deuten, wenn das eigentliche Interesse der Darstellung der positiven Zuordnung der Völker zum Heiligtum in Jerusalem dient? Der Zugang der Chronik zu diesem Thema zeigt sich bereits in 1 Chr 1– 9. Der Text beginnt mit Adam und seinen Nachkommen und zählt über Abram/Abraham und seinen entsprechenden

 Vgl. Hossfeld / Zenger, Psalmen, .Vgl. auch Jeremias, Königtum Gottes,  ff., der den Psalm dem „Umkreis der deuterojesajanischen Theologie“ zuordnet. Allgemein zum positiven Prophetenbild der Chronik vgl. Willi, Chronik als Auslegung,  ff.  Mit LXX; vgl. Japhet, Chronicles, .  Vgl. Willi, Chronik, .

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Abkömmlingen (1 Chr 1,27 ff.) ab 1 Chr 2, beginnend mit Juda, die zwölf Eponyme mit ihren jeweiligen Nachfahren auf, wobei zum einen auffällt, dass Jerusalem inklusiv – und damit auch: sein künftiges Heiligtum – als (Haupt‐)Stadt ganz Israels verstanden wird (1 Chr 9,2 f.),⁸ und zum anderen, dass bis auf einige kurze Reflexe⁹ die „Landnahme“ als kriegerischer Akt nicht erzählt wird. Auch die vor allem aus der deuteronomistischen Überlieferung bekannten Bewohner Kanaans (u. a. Ex 3,8.17; Dtn 7,1; 20,17; Jos 3,10; 9,1; 12,8; 24,11) werden in 1 Chr 1– 9 nicht erwähnt, so dass das deuteronomistische Modell einer kriegerischen Landnahme nicht eigens thematisiert wird. Tatsächlich ergeben sich deren theologische Bedingungen aus der ebenfalls deuteronomistischen Vorstellung, die Jhwh in Konkurrenz zu anderen Göttern sieht – eine Vorstellung, die die Chronik insgesamt nicht teilt, sondern eine gemeinsame Geschichte und eine durch den Tempel in Jerusalem gestiftete gemeinsame Bestimmung der Völker im Blick hat.¹⁰ So kann es nicht verwundern, wenn vor allem die deuteronomisch-deuteronomistische Kriegskonzeption, wie sie in Dtn 20,10 – 20 exemplarisch dargelegt wird, in der Chronik nicht rezipiert wird.¹¹ Die Kriege haben hier vielmehr ihre Funktion und Legitimation ganz im Sinne von Ps 2,1 f. darin, Auflehnungen gegen das göttliche Weltregiment (vgl. das o.g. Beispiel Sanheribs in 2 Chr 32,9 ff.) in die Schranken zu weisen – sie sind daher in erster Linie auch die Angelegenheit Jhwhs und nicht etwa Israels.¹² Insofern können die Kriegsberichte der Chronik von vornherein nicht als direkte Derivate deuteronomisch-deuteronomistischer Literatur mit ihrem Verständnis von „Krieg“ verstanden werden. Dennoch soll nun ein kurzer Blick auf einige einschlägige Texte zeigen, dass durchaus Verflechtungen mit legislativem Material¹³ des Pentateuchs – auch des Deuteronomiums – bestehen und wie diese Texte rezipiert und integriert werden.

 Vgl. Willi, Chronik,  f.; s. auch u. Anm. .  Zu  Chr , f. vgl. Willi, Chronik, ; zu  Chr , ff. vgl. ebd.,  ff.  Vgl. Willi, „Völkerwelt,“ .  Vgl. Ruffing, Jahwekrieg als Weltmetapher, .  Vgl. Willi, „Völkerwelt,“  f. Dieser Aspekt wird im Folgenden noch deutlicher herausgearbeitet werden.  Hier können nicht alle Texte, v. a. aus den sog. Kriegsansprachen des Deuteronomiums, in den Blick genommen werden. Vgl. hierzu Schmitt, Der „Heilige Krieg“,  ff.

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II. Die Kriege in der Chronik und das legislative Material im Pentateuch – drei Beispiele 1. Der Krieg (Dtn 20,1 – 4) In Dtn 20,1– 4 wird ein Prozedere geschildert, dass einen bevorstehenden Krieg zunächst zu einem religiösen Geschehen macht und ihn in das Licht des Exodusgeschehens rückt. „Der Priester“ (hakkohen) spricht vor dem Volk, um ihm Mut zu machen und ihm die göttliche Präsenz anzusagen (20,3 f): 3

Höre, Israel. Ihr zieht heute in die Schlacht gegen eure Feinde. Verliert nicht den Mut, fürchtet euch nicht, geratet nicht durcheinander, und weicht nicht zurück vor ihnen. 4 Denn Jhwh, euer Gott, zieht mit euch, um für euch gegen eure Feinde zu kämpfen und euch zu retten.

Vor allem das Motiv des kämpfenden Gottes (jhwh + lḥm nif.) steht einerseits in enger Verbindung zum Exodusgeschehen selbst (vgl. Ex 14,14.25), ist aber andererseits auch gemeinsam mit den Begriffen der Furcht (yrʾ) und des Zurückweichens (ʿrṣ) in Dtn 1,29 f. belegt. Hier redet jedoch Mose und noch nicht „der Priester“ (hakkohen), der nach Dtn 20,1– 4 zukünftig diese Rolle des Mose ausfüllen soll. Doch gegenüber Dtn 1,26 – 33 zeigt Dtn 20,1– 4 auch signifikante Abweichungen: Spricht Dtn 1 gleichzeitig zurückblickend und vorausschauend von der Landnahme Israels,¹⁴ so imaginiert Dtn 20 den Kriegsfall im Land selbst.¹⁵ Die Terminologie von Dtn 20,1– 4 legt im Gegensatz zu 20,10 ff. dabei durchaus nahe, dass die Aggression von außen kommt und Israel sich in der Defensive befindet: Zahlen- und rüstungsmäßig überlegene „Feinde“ (ʾojebîm) lassen Israel mutlos und somit des Zuspruchs bedürftig werden. Weiterhin fällt ins Gewicht, dass entgegen Dtn 1– 3 die Frage nach der Rechtmäßigkeit des Krieges hier nicht thematisiert wird: „[D]ie Eingangskapitel des Deuteronomiums lassen sich als Beispielerzählung für den Fall des nicht von Jahwe gebotenen Krieges lesen; zudem spielt die völkerrechtliche Rechtmäßigkeit der Landnahme in Dtn 2,9 ff.19 ff. eine Rolle.“¹⁶ In Dtn 20,1– 4 sind keine Bedingungen für eine Kriegseröffnung genannt, weil es sich hier um den Verteidigungsfall handeln

 Vgl. Heckl, Moses Vermächtnis,  ff.  Vgl. Rüterswörden, Deuteronomium,  f., der u. a. darauf hinweist, dass in Dtn ,. f. nicht von den ehemaligen Landesbewohnern die Rede sei, sondern von „Feinden“ – anders als noch in Dtn ,.  Rüterswörden, Deuteronomium,  f.

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dürfte. Bei militärischer Unterlegenheit wird auf die Präsenz Jhwhs verwiesen, wie dann im Anschluss auch Vv. 5 – 9 illustrieren: Wenn Jhwh mit Israel kämpft, dann ist die Truppengröße letztlich nicht von Belang (vgl. Ex 14,14; Ri 7,1– 7). Da in Dtn 20 „der Priester“ und die „Listenführer“ (šoṭerîm) ab V. 5 in sachlicher Konkurrenz stehen – beide Größen sind für Ansprachen an das Kriegsvolk vorgesehen, die letztlich Jhwhs Begleitung zum Ausdruck bringen sollen –, kann daher gefragt werden, ob Dtn 20,2– 4 nicht sekundär in den Kontext gefügt sind,¹⁷ um den Fall der Aggression von außen mit den passenden Motiven der Furcht und der Unterlegenheit zu thematisieren. Der Zusammenhang Vv. 1.5 – 9.10 ff. mit dem Belagerungsfall zielt nämlich nicht auf militärische Aktionen, die durch Unterlegenheit und Defensive gekennzeichnet sind. Insbesondere auffällig ist schließlich die Nennung „des Priesters“ (hakkohen) in V. 2. So schreibt C. Steuernagel: „Daß ein Priester und nicht ein König das Heer vor der Schlacht anreden soll, erklärt sich wohl daraus, daß der Abschnitt aus einer Zeit stammt, in der Israel nicht auch eine politische Nation, sondern nur eine Kultusgemeinde war und in der die Hierarchie überall die leitende Rolle beanspruchte.“¹⁸ Entsprechend fragt Steuernagel auch, ob hier nicht bereits das Amt des Hohepriesters im Blick sei.¹⁹ Insofern wäre Dtn 20,2– 4 als eine nachexilische Einleitung der Kriegsgesetze anzusehen, die den Krieg als göttliche Abwehr von außen eindringender Feinde versteht. Diese Beobachtung führt nun auch in den Bereich der Chronikbücher, da hier durchaus Analogien zu Dtn 20,2 – 4 zu beobachten sind. Aus den zahlreichen Kriegsberichten der Chronikbücher²⁰ stechen nach A. Ruffings Analysen diejenigen drei hervor, die zunächst dem Sondergut zuzurechnen sind, die sodann besonders ausführlich berichten und bei denen sich schließlich Israel – zumindest zahlenmäßig²¹ – in der Defensive befindet: 2 Chr 13,2b–18; 14,7– 14; 20,1– 30.²² Erstens ist dabei auf die Situation der Ansprache durch den Oberen zu verweisen: Gemäß der in den Chronikbüchern erzählten Zeit ist es hier nicht der Priester, der eine jeweilige Ansprache vor dem versammelten Volk hält, sondern der König. Dabei ist die Rolle der Könige in den Chronikbüchern diejenige des Stellvertreters des eigentlichen Königs Jhwh²³ – und insofern der Funktion der Hohepriester in den

 So bereits Steuernagel, Deuteronomium, .  Steuernagel, Deuteronomium, .  Vgl. ebd.  Vgl. u. a. Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung,  ff.  S.u. Anm. .  Vgl. Ruffing, Jahwekrieg als Weltmetapher,  f. Auf die anderen einschlägigen Texte kann in diesem Rahmen nicht näher eingegangen werden.  Vgl. zusammenfassend Schreiber, Gesalbter und König,  ff.

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Zeiten ohne König vergleichbar.²⁴ Eine Dtn 20,2– 4 analoge Ansprache des Priesters/Königs unmittelbar vor Kriegsbeginn im Sinne einer Zurüstung fehlt in den Kriegserzählungen des deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerks, ist aber in zwei der oben genannten Texte breit ausgeführt: 2 Chr 13,4 ff. (Abija: an den Gegner i.S. einer Einschüchterung); 20,5 ff. (Joschafat). Zweitens hat das Motiv der Furcht und der Mutlosigkeit angesichts eines überlegenen Gegners, der in der Offensive ist, eine Entsprechung in diesen Berichten der Chronik. Alle drei genannte Reden reflektieren dieses Thema, das die existentielle Bedrohung Israels ausdrückt.²⁵ So lautet etwa 2 Chr 20,15: Und [Jahasiel] sprach: Hört, ganz Juda und ihr Bewohner von Jerusalem und König Joschafat. So spricht Jhwh zu euch: Fürchtet euch nicht und seid nicht bestürzt vor dieser großen Menge! Denn der Krieg ist nicht eurer sondern Gottes.

Hier spricht im Auftrag Jhwhs ein Prophet, der durchaus im Sinne von Dtn 20,3 f. Volk und König Mut zuspricht. Die zentrale Bedingung des Gelingens ist drittens in jedem Fall die Anwesenheit Jhwhs, der für Israel kämpft und der allein den Sieg herbeiführt (2 Chr 13,12; 14,10; 20,15 ff.). Die Rede des priesterlichen/königlichen Stellvertreters Jhwhs dient dazu, dem Volk dessen göttliche Präsenz kund zu tun. Die drei Berichte aus dem zweiten Chronikbuch erscheinen daher Dtn 20,1– 4 durchaus vergleichbar zu sein: Es geht einerseits um die eigene Unterlegenheit und andererseits um die Überlegenheit Jhwhs, der die angreifenden Feinde besiegen wird. Diese Vorstellungen fügen sich in die chronistische Verhältnisbestimmung zu den Völkern insofern, als diese ja gemäß 1 Chr 16,8 ff. grundsätzlich nicht zu bekämpfen, sondern religiös zu integrieren sind. Die Ausnahme bildet die kriegerische Aktion gegen Israel, bei der Jhwh sein Volk und sein Heiligtum verteidigen wird. Der gemeinsame Punkt sowohl in Dtn 20,1– 4 als auch in den hier hinzugezogenen Kriegsberichten der Chronik ist die Anwesenheit Jhwhs, der für sein Volk kämpft. Dieses Motiv führt zu einem weiteren Gesetz des Deuteronomiums: den Bestimmungen zum Heerlager (Dtn 23,10 – 15).

 Die über die deuteronomistischen Vorlagen hinausgehende zentrale königliche Funktion im Kult wird besonders bei Hiskija und Josia deutlich; vgl. u. a. Kalimi, Geschichtsschreibung des Chronisten, .  Vgl. Ruffing, Jahwekrieg als Weltmetapher, .

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2. Das Heerlager (Dtn 23,10 – 15) Die Bestimmungen zum Heerlager (maḥanæh) knüpfen einerseits an den religiösen Anspruch des Ausdrucks „Versammlung Jhwhs“ (qehal jhwh) aus Dtn 23,2 ff. mit seinen dazu gehörigen Ausführungen und andererseits an das Motiv des anwesenden Gottes aus Dtn 20,1– 4 an.²⁶ Im Blick ist dabei die Vorstellung, dass die Anwesenheit Gottes entsprechend Num 5,1– 4 die kultische Reinheit des Lagers erfordert. Im Gegensatz zu Num 5,1– 4 sind die Anweisungen in Dtn 23,10 – 15 dezidiert für den Kriegsfall bestimmt. Die Eröffnung in V. 10a entspricht dabei im Wesentlichen derjenigen in Dtn 20,1aα, wobei jedoch der Fokus nicht auf der Schlacht, sondern auf dem Lager ruht. Von hier aus erscheint es möglich, dass Dtn 23,10 – 14 literarisch auf derselben Ebene liegen wie 20,1.5 – 9.10 – 14, wobei 23,15 dann eine literarische Brücke zu 20,2 ff. bilden würde.²⁷ Insofern kann für Dtn 23,10 – 14 – anders wohl aber V. 15 mit nṣl hif.²⁸ – auch nicht angenommen werden, dass hier ein Verteidigungsfall vorausgesetzt werden muss. Im Blick ist vielmehr die Intaktheit des Lagers im Sinne der Intaktheit der „Versammlung“. Die Chronik geht an dieser Stelle möglicherweise sogar noch einen Schritt weiter, worauf P.Welten aufmerksam gemacht hat:²⁹ In 2 Chr 14,12 wird berichtet, dass die feindlichen Kuschiter „vor Jhwh und seinem Heerlager zerbrachen“ (kî nišberû lipnê jhwh welipnê maḥanehû). Es fällt auf, dass die Wurzel šbr im unmittelbaren Zusammenhang (2 Chr 14,2) und auch sonst in den Chronikbüchern (2 Chr 20,37; 23,17; 31,1; 34,4) mit der kultischen oder religiösen Auflehnung gegen Jhwh verbunden ist, bei der der entsprechende Widerstand bzw. die einschlägigen Embleme „zerbrochen“ werden. Die prinzipielle Gleichsetzung des Heerlagers Israels mit demjenigen Jhwhs wird auch in 1 Chr 12,23, wo das große Heerlager Davids mit dem „Heerlager Gottes“ (maḥaneh ʾælohîm) verglichen wird, thematisiert, seine Heiligkeit wird durch die Umschreibung des Tempels in Jerusalem als „Tore des Lagers Jhwhs“ (šaʿarē maḥanôt jhwh)³⁰ in 2 Chr 31,2 angesprochen. Diese Ausdrücke für das Lager/Heerlager können durchaus in der Fluchtlinie von Dtn 23 mit den dort zusammenhängend behandelten Themen von „Versammlung Jhwhs“ (qehal jhwh) und „Heerlager“ (maḥanæh) verstanden werden. Insofern wird in den Büchern der Chronik das Konzept des Heerlagers, das im Deuteronomium vorliegt, anscheinend übernommen und spezifisch angewandt. Die Anwesenheit Jhwhs

 Vgl. Rüterswörden, Deuteronomium, .  Vgl. ebd.  Vgl. Bergmann, „‫נצל‬,“  f.  Vgl. zum Folgenden Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung,  mit Anm. .  Mit MT; vgl. aber App. BHK/BHS, die LXX (ἐν ταῖς αὐλαῖς οἴκου) favorisieren. Doch MT bietet sicherlich eine lectio difficilior, die gleichzeitig nicht unplausibel ist.

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erfordert somit auch entsprechende Bedingungen, die in den Kriegsberichten der Chronik auch andernorts akzentuiert werden. So dienen in 2 Chr 13,8 – 12 die eigene kultische Orthodoxie (ganz im Gegensatz zu derjenigen Israels/Samarias),³¹ in 2 Chr 14,9 – 11 das Bittgebet Asas und in 2 Chr 20,3 ff. ein Fasten und ein königliches Bittgebet der Versicherung, dass Jhwh im bevorstehenden Kampf anwesend sein wird – auch wenn hier das Heerlager selbst nicht erwähnt wird. In jedem Fall unterstreichen die Belege den bereits beobachteten Zug, dass die Feinde Israels/Jhwhs Aggressoren sind, die sich durch ihr feindliches Handeln dem die Völker integrierenden Konzept der Chronik entziehen und die deshalb am Heerlager Israels/Jhwhs, das letztlich auch für den Tempel selbst transparent ist, zerbrechen müssen.

3. Die Trompeten (Num 10,1 – 10) Das letzte Beispiel führt in das Buch Numeri, dem H.P. Mathys eine nahe Verwandschaft zu den Büchern der Chronik bescheinigt hat.³² Der Text Num 10,1– 10 ist direkt vor den Aufbruch Israels aus der Wüste Sinai gestellt und steht damit an einem sehr exponierten Ort. Der Abschnitt bildet vor allem mit Vv. 9 – 10 einen Ausblick auf das Wohnen im Lande und dürfte in seinem Kontext insgesamt sekundär sein.³³ Inhaltlich geht es um die Anfertigung zweier Trompeten (ḥaṣoṣerôt), deren Funktion zum einen (Vv. 2– 8) als Signal für die Gemeinde zur Versammlung bzw. zum Aufbruch aus dem Lager und zum anderen (Vv. 9 – 10) als Signal für Gott, sich in Krieg und Festzeit Israels zu erinnern, beschrieben wird. Zunächst fällt auf, dass auch hier die Terminologie um das Gemeinwesen (ʿedāh/qāhāl) und dessen Lager-/Wohnstätte (maḥanôt) kreist. Da nur die Priester mit der Aufgabe des Trompetens betraut werden (V. 8) handelt es sich dabei zweifellos um eine Handlung, in der die göttliche Präsenz mitgedacht ist. Der Kriegsfall ist hierbei nicht explizit genannt, obwohl die Terminologie in V. 5 f. (tqʿ terûʿāh) mit dem kriegerischen Angriffssignal in Verbindung gebracht werden kann.³⁴ Den Krieg

 Hierin liegt wohl eine doppelte Intention: Zum einen geht es den Autoren der Chronikbücher darum, die geschichtliche Einheit Israels und Judas seit David zu betonen,weshalb Jerobeam auch in besonderer Weise als Apostat skizziert wird (vgl. Japhet, Chronicles,  f.: „rebellious slave“). Zum anderen ist der Bericht selbstverständlich offen für eine Deutung auf Samaria in der Zeit der Autoren, vgl. Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung,  ff.; Knoppers, „Battling against Yahweh“; Wright, „The Fight for Peace,“  f.  Mathys, „Numeri und Chronik“.  Vgl. Seebass, Numeri,  f.  Vgl. Seebass, Numeri, .

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selbst thematisiert nun V. 9, der gemeinsam mit V. 10 als sekundärer Anhang zu Vv. 1– 8 gewertet werden kann.³⁵ Hier in V. 9 geht es um die Signalwirkung der Trompeten vor Jhwh, der sich nun Israels im Kriegsfall erinnert: Wenn ihr in eurem Land in die Schlacht geht gegen einen Feind, der euch befeindet, und ihr mit den Trompeten lärmt (wahareʿotæm baḥaṣoṣerôt),werdet ihr euch vor Jhwh, eurem Gott, in Erinnerung bringen und von euren Feinden errettet werden.

Das Trompetensignal erinnert Gott an sein im Krieg befindliches Volk, und er eilt ihm zur Hilfe. Eine entsprechende Situation imaginiert 2 Chr 13,12, wo Abija dem Jerobeam mitteilt: Und siehe, mit uns an der Spitze ist Gott. Bei uns sind auch seine Priester mit den Lärmtrompeten (ḥaṣoṣerôt hatterûʿāh), um gegen euch zu lärmen, Israeliten! Kämpft nicht gegen Jhwh, den Gott eurer Väter; denn ihr werdet keinen Erfolg haben.

In diesem doppelbödigen³⁶ Text ermahnt der judäische König seinen zahlenmäßig weit überlegenen Kollegen aus dem Norden, nicht gegen Juda – und damit: gegen Jhwh – Krieg zu führen. Dabei wird deutlich auf Num 10,1– 10 als Gesamttext rekurriert: Sowohl die Priester, die die Trompeten lärmend blasen (Vv. 5 f.7), als auch die Kriegssituation (V. 9) finden sich dort. Deutlich herausgearbeitet wird dabei die bereits oben besprochene Vorstellung der Anwesenheit Jhwhs, der für die Seinen, in diesem Fall also nur Juda, in dem der eine Tempel steht, streitet. Entsprechend der kultischen Verortung der geblasenen Trompeten als Symbol der Anwesenheit Jhwhs werden diese auch in 1 Chr 15,28 anlässlich der Überführung der Bundeslade durch David und in 2 Chr 20,28 anlässlich des Sieges Joschafats über eine feindliche Allianz erwähnt. Hier signalisieren die Trompeten zwar nicht den vorausgegangenen Krieg selbst, sondern den Triumph Jhwhs, aber im Gesamtzusammenhang mit dem folgenden summarischen V. 29 scheint auch ihre „militärische“ Funktion durch: Und der Schrecken Gottes (paḥad ʾælohîm) kam über alle Königreiche der Länder, als sie hörten, dass Jhwh gegen die Feinde Israels gekämpft hatte.

Der „Schrecken Gottes/Jhwhs“ ist in den Chronikbüchern ein terminus technicus für die kriegerische Anwesenheit Jhwhs, der die Gegner gewissermaßen einschüchtert und in ihren kriegerischen Aktivitäten lähmt (1 Chr 14,17; 2 Chr 14,13; 17,10; 20,29). Damit bestätigt sich auch andersherum die Zuordnung der Völker  Vgl. Seebass, Numeri,  f.  S.o. Anm. .

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zum zentralen Heiligtum, die, wie eingangs angeführt, aufgerufen sind, Geschenke und Tribute angesichts der grundsätzlichen Überlegenheit Jhwhs, seines Heiligtums und seines Gesalbten abzuliefern.³⁷ Der Krieg ist somit ein Mittel zum Zweck; er dient zuerst dem Nachweis der universalen Überlegenheit Jhwhs und nicht der Vernichtung der Gegner.³⁸ Die in Num 10,1– 10 zu beobachtende und in die Chronikbücher übernommene Doppelfunktion der Trompeten sagt mithin viel über das Verständnis von Krieg in den Chronikbüchern aus. Über die Vorstellung der Anwesenheit Jhwhs, der für seine Wohnstatt in Jerusalem kämpft, ist der Krieg von vornherein auch ein reziprokes kultisches Geschehen: Nur der legitime Kult gewährt die Anwesenheit Jhwhs, der seinerseits seine Wohnstatt und ihre Kultausübung bereit ist, erfolgreich zu verteidigen (vgl. 2 Chr 13,8 – 12).³⁹

III. Ergebnisse Dass die Chronikbücher als „tertiäre Bildung“, wie sie T. Willi nannte,⁴⁰ vorliegende Texte aus der biblischen Tradition aufnehmen, interpretieren oder neu komponieren,⁴¹ ist hinlänglich bekannt. So wird den Autoren ein nahezu vollständiger Pentateuch vorgelegen haben, der bestimmte Gottesbilder und damit zusammenhängend auch bestimmte Vorstellungen vom Krieg enthält. Die hier

 S.o. Abschnitt I.  In diesem Sinne können die äußerst hohen Zahlen an Kämpfern, die regelmäßig in den Kriegserzählungen der Chronikbücher genannt werden, interpretiert werden. So treffen etwa in  Chr ,   Judäer auf   Israeliten. In  Chr , greifen die Kuschiter gar mit einem Millionenheer an. Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung, , hat mit Recht auf die „Weltkriegsdimensionen“, die diese Erzählungen bei gleichzeitiger „erstaunlicher Kleinräumigkeit“ auszeichneten, hingewiesen. Diese Dimensionierung dient der Verdeutlichung, dass Jhwh nicht der partikuläre Gott Judas ist, sondern derjenige der ganzen Welt. Vgl. auch Ruffing, Jahwekrieg als Weltmetapher,  ff.  Zu den Trompeten etc. in  Chr , bemerkt Strübind, Tradition als Interpretation, : „Wer über den ordnungsgemäßen Kultgesang verfügt, trägt als Frucht des Gehorsams auch bei militärischer Unterlegenheit den Sieg über die Feinde davon.“ Andersherum führt das entsprechende Nichtbeachten des Kultus auch zu völligen Niederlagen bereits vor der Zerstörung Jerusalems, z. B. in  Chr , f.Vgl. hierzu etwa Crouch, War and Ethics,  f. Insofern ergibt sich für die Autoren der Chronik angesichts des Untergangs Jerusalems und des Tempels auch kein theologisches Problem.  Vgl. Willi, Chronik, .  So konstatiert Welten bezüglich des hier auch vorgestellten Texts  Chr , dass dieser Text, der keine Vorlage gehabt habe, „insgesamt ein schriftgelehrtes Konstrukt“ sei; vgl. Welten, „Kriegsbericht und Friedenserwartung,“ .

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ausgewählten Beispiele aus dem legislativen Material, das Kriegsgesetz des Deuteronomiums (Dtn 20,1– 4[.5 ff.]), die entsprechenden Verordnungen zum Heerlager (Dtn 23,10 – 15) sowie die Bestimmungen zu Fest- und Kriegszeiten aus Num 10,(1– 8)9 f. werden allem Anschein nach in den Kriegsberichten der Chronikbücher vorausgesetzt und der eigenen Vorstellung vom Krieg dienstbar gemacht.⁴² Es fällt auf, dass die deutlichsten Übereinstimmungen bei denjenigen Abschnitten zu beobachten sind, die die Forschung einmütig als Nachträge in ihren Zusammenhängen erkannt hat: Num 10,9 f.; Dtn 20,2– 4; 23,15. In allen Fällen wird die Situation im Land imaginiert, in allen Fällen wird der Krieg als Rettungsund nicht Eroberungskrieg, den Jhwh führt, verstanden. So ergibt sich die Vermutung, dass diejenige Theologie, die für diese Nachträge verantwortlich ist, auch für die Vorstellungen der Autoren der Chronikbücher maßgeblich war. Sie findet sich zunächst in der Exodustradition und ihrer Rezeption im Richterbuch und bei Deuterojesaja und sodann, mit ihrer Beheimatung auf dem Zion/Tempel als Ort der göttlichen Präsenz und Handlungsbereitschaft, etwa in dem bereits erwähnten Ps 2 oder den Korachitenpsalmen 46 und vor allem 48.⁴³ Da die Chronikbücher jedoch das Völkerthema, wie eingangs gezeigt, zuvorderst positiv betrachten, wird der Krieg letztlich zu einer Metapher der Weltherrschaft Jhwhs,⁴⁴ der auf der anderen Seite die eingangs erläuterte Zuordnung der Völker zum Heiligtum in Jerusalem entspricht. In diesem „Krieg“ kämpft allein Jhwh, weil allein ihm die Ehre gebührt. Israel hat demgegenüber seinen aktiven Part nur in der Sorge dafür, dass der Kult korrekt ausgeübt wird (2 Chr 13,8 – 12). Insofern bietet auch die faktische Zerstörung des ersten Tempels kein theologisches Problem: sie kann mit Israels Versagen erklärt werden und ist in 2 Chr 24,23 f. bereits angedeutet und aufgefangen.⁴⁵ Diese passive Rolle im Krieg spiegelt Israels vorfindliche Rolle im Weltgeschehen, die durch die Spannung einer ohnmächtig zu ertragenden Fremdherrschaft einerseits, und den Anspruch der Universalität seiner Religion andererseits gekennzeichnet ist.

 „Chronicles communicates and embodies Torah without claiming to be Torah (…). It is worth stressing that it is the law as understood by the Chronicler that has priority over the exact wording of Deuteronomy.“ Ehud Ben Zvi, „One Size Does Not Fit All,“  (Kursivierung im Original).  So werden die Korachiten im Zusammenhang von  Chr , ff. in V.  erwähnt.Vgl. zu den Korachitenpsalmen und den Vorstellungen um den Völkerkampf Wanke, Zionstheologie der Korachiten,  ff., zu den Zionsvorstellungen in Ps ;  Körting, Zion in den Psalmen,  ff.  Vgl. den zutreffenden Titel des Buches von Ruffing, Jahwekrieg als Weltmetapher.  S.o. Anm. .

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Bibliographie Ben Zvi, Ehud. „One Size Does Not Fit All: Observations on the Different Ways That Chronicles Dealt with the Authoritative Literature of Its Time.“ In What Was Authoritative for Chronicles?, herausgegeben von dems. / Diana Edelman, 13 – 35. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2012. Bergmann, U. „‫“נצל‬. In THAT II, 96 – 99. München: Kaiser, 1976. Crouch, Carly L. War and Ethics in the Ancient Near East: Military Violence in Light of Cosmology and History. BZAW 407. Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 2009. Fabry, Heinz-Josef. „‫מנחה‬.“ In ThWAT IV, 987 – 997. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1984. Grätz, Sebastian. „Gott und die Völker in den Chronikbüchern.“ In Der eine Gott und die Geschichte der Völker: Studien zur Inklusion und Exklusion im biblischen Monotheismus, herausgegeben von Ulrich Mell, 37 – 52. BThSt 123. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 2011. Heckl, Raik. Moses Vermächtnis: Kohärenz, literarische Intention und Funktion von Dtn 1 – 3. ABG 9. Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 2004. Hossfeld, Frank-Lothar / Zenger, Erich. Psalm 51 – 100. NEB 40. Würzburg: Echter-Verlag, 2002. Japhet, Sara. I & II Chronicles. OTL. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1993. Jeremias, Jörg. Das Königtum Gottes in den Psalmen: Israels Begegnung mit dem kanaanäischen Mythos in den Jahwe-König-Psalmen. FRLANT 141. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1987. Kalimi, Isaac. Zur Geschichtsschreibung des Chronisten: Literarisch-historiographische Abweichungen der Chronik von ihren Paralleltexten in den Samuel- und Königsbüchern. BZAW 226. Berlin / New York, 1995. Knoppers, Gerald N. „‘Battling against Yahweh:’ Israel’s War against Judah in 2.Chr 13,2 – 20.“ RB 100 (1993), 511 – 532. Körting, Corinna. Zion in den Psalmen. FAT 48. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006. Mathys, Hans-Peter. „Numeri und Chronik: Nahe Verwandte.“ In The Books of Leviticus and Numbers, herausgegeben von Thomas Römer, 555 – 578. BETL 215. Leuven u. a.: Peeters, 2008. Rothstein, Wilhelm / Hänel, Johannes. Kommentar zum ersten Buch der Chronik. KAT 18,2. Leipzig: Deichert, 1927. Ruffing, Andreas. Jahwekrieg als Weltmetapher: Studien zu Jahwekriegstexten des chronistischen Sondergutes. SBB 24. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1992. Rüterswörden, Udo. Das Buch Deuteronomium. NSK.AT 4. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 2006. Schmitt, Rüdiger. Der „Heilige Krieg“ im Pentateuch und im deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerk: Studien zur Forschungs-, Rezeptions- und Religionsgeschichte von Krieg und Bann im Alten Testament. AOAT 381. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2011. Schreiber, Stefan. Gesalbter und König: Titel und Konzeptionen der königlichen Gesalbtenerwartung in frühjüdischen und urchristlichen Schriften. BZNW 105. Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 2000. Seebass, Horst. Numeri 1,1 – 10,10. BKAT 4/1. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 2012. Steuernagel, Carl. Das Deuteronomium. HK I 3/1. 2. Aufl. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1923.

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Strübind, Kim. Tradition als Interpretation in der Chronik: König Josaphat als Paradigma chronistischer Hermeneutik und Theologie. BZAW 201. Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 1991. Wanke, Gunther. Die Zionstheologie der Korachiten in ihrem traditionsgeschichtlichen Zusammenhang. BZAW 97. Berlin: Töpelmann, 1966. Welten, Peter. Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung in den Chronikbüchern. WMANT 42. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1973. —. „Kriegsbericht und Friedenserwartung: Spätnachexilische Schriftauslegung am Beispiel von 2Chr 20.“ In „Sieben Augen auf einem Stein“ (Sach 3,9): Studien zur Literatur des Zweiten Tempels, Festschrift für Ina Willi-Plein zum 65. Geburtstag, herausgegeben von Friedhelm Hartenstein / Michael Pietsch, 391 – 404. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 2007. Willi, Thomas. Die Chronik als Auslegung: Untersuchungen zur literarischen Gestalt der historischen Überlieferung Israels. FRLANT 106. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1972. —. 1. Chronik 1,1 – 10,14. BKAT 24/1. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 2009. —. „Die Völkerwelt in den Chronikbüchern.“ In Israel und die Völker: Studien zur Literatur und Geschichte Israels in der Perserzeit, herausgegeben von dems. / Michael Pietsch, 245 – 262. SBAB 55. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 2012. Wright, John W. „The Fight for Peace: Narrative and History in the Battle Accounts in Chronicles.“ In The Chronicler as Historian, herausgegeben von M. Patrick Graham u. a., 150 – 177. JSOT.S 238. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997.

Francis Borchardt (Lutheran Theological Seminary Hong Kong)

The Battle of Emmaus and 1 Maccabees’ Creative Use of Martial Law Introduction Forty thousand infantry prepared for battle slowly march south toward Judea from the Seleucid capital in Antioch. They are joined by seven thousand cavalry with a single command: destroy Judea. Upon reaching the land they make camp at Emmaus and wait for a rather small band of Judean rebels to respond. Such is the opening scene of the battle of Emmaus, one of the many skirmishes described in 1 Maccabees. Typically, the invading force led by Seleucid courtiers, is immense, well-armed, and seemingly invincible. The point is underlined by the arrival of slavers and mercenaries from the nations roundabout seeking to earn a share of the spoils of victory that will surely present themselves. The small force of three thousand Judeans is presented as poorly armed and frightened, as usual. Yet, by tactical superiority and implied divine assistance Judas Maccabeus and his followers rout the invading army and enrich themselves by plunder, again as usual. This set of events, richly described in 1 Macc 3:38 – 4:25 will be the basis of our discussion of the interpretation of martial law in 1 Maccabees. We will seek to show that the description of this battle is rich with examples of both the realization of legal text in narrative and the understanding of narrative text as law. Despite the frequency of battle descriptions in parascriptures,¹ there are several aspects of this narrative and this book that recommend it to closer scrutiny, particularly on the subject of legal interpretation. First, the book as a whole has particular concern for the law. The term νόμος is employed 26 times within the book.² Related terms like δικαίωμα, πρόσταγμα, ἐντολή, σύγχριμα, λόγος, λατρεία, κρίμα and νόμιμα add another 30 appearances of legal usage.³ This still

 We use this term in the sense described by Robert A. Kraft in his SBL presidential address “Paramania: Beside, Before and Beyond Biblical Studies,” , referring to the literature that provides the context for and thereby helps to define what is considered to be scripture.  See Renaud, “La Loi et les Lois,” , who claims that there are  instances of the word νόμος, and Borchardt, Torah, , where I count . The discrepancy likely lies in Renaud’s inclusion of an instance of the word at : which appears only in Alexandrinus.  See Borchardt, Torah, , , for the breakdown of the use of each of these terms.

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does not count the recurrent use of the terms ἄνομοι and παράνομοι as labels for the opponents of the Hasmoneans. The frequency with which such vocabulary is used, combined with the framing of the whole conflict around matters of law,⁴ ensure that legal obedience was a primary concern for the author of 1 Maccabees. As for this specific battle, there are further reasons to investigate the way it, as opposed to other descriptions, applies legal interpretation to warfare. One prominent rationale is that this battle is one of very few to fall within the first four chapters of the book.⁵ Of the 56 uses of unambiguously “legal”⁶ vocabulary in the book, over 40 appear in these four chapters.⁷ This is largely because the focus of the conflict in these chapters is over the right to live according to Judean⁸ ancestral laws and customs. Once the law is no longer imminently threatened and the temple is purified and in Judean hands, concern for the law recedes with political ambitions taking the foreground.⁹ Moreover, one of three specific references within 1 Maccabees to “the book of the law” are found within this account. 1 Macc 3:48 features the book of the law being investigated by the Hasmoneans and their allies. A second verse features the law as a named authority upon which military exemptions are made. The combination of these two appearances of the law within the account assure us that the author here is concerned that the Hasmoneans at least appear at points to be following the instructions pertaining to warfare. When these aspects of the Emmaus account are combined with the realization that it comprises the longest and most thorough battle account in the book, there could hardly be a better choice. No other account covers a battle from the stages of preparation through  Such indications of a battle based on the protection of the law can be observed at  Macc :, , ; :, ; :; :. See further Bartlett, Books,  – , and Harrington, Maccabean Revolt, .  Bar-Kochva, Judas Maccabeus, in his account of the military exploits of Judas Maccabeus, recognizes it as the third battle of four in the first four chapters of the book, and expends significantly more pages () on it, than on the other three combined ().  This term has several possible meanings, but we use this terminology to refer to the ancestral (or perceived as such) commands, stories and instructions passed down (or perceived to be passed down) through the generations in oral or written form, which may or may not carry some degree of authority among a self-defined group of adherents either confined to, or tracing their origins from, the area of the Judea. We do so to avoid placing a more specific definition upon law that might exclude the very relationships this volume investigates.  Borchardt, Torah, .  Judean is used in the ethno-geographic sense of “a people associated with a place and its customs” argued for by Mason, “Jews, Judaeans, Judaizing, Judaism,” esp. .  Williams, Structure of Maccabees,  – , notes this focus on the law and temple is prominent in the first section of the book.

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plunder so extensively, and no other battle includes so many details. For these reasons Emmaus is the focus of our investigation. This type of research is not without its challenges. Though the law is cited twice within this account, those are the only two references to the law at all throughout the battle. In addition, the book of the law in this section is only once brought up as an authority by which the tradent explains the action of the Hasmoneans. Given this paucity of evidence, how are we to interpret which actions and decisions depicted in the account of Emmaus are tied to the author’s desire to portray a licit and orthodox prosecution of war? It may be that certain acts within the account resemble those we find in either legal or narrative sections of the Pentateuch or other written sources, but this does not ensure direct and intentional connection to those sources. Furthermore, even when the link is intentional, how can we decide on the status of those writings which the account recalls? Are they law, scripture, reports of the deeds of past heroes?¹⁰ These are not problems that can be easily answered by a methodological trick or reading within the context of contemporaneous texts. There is sufficient variety within textual witnesses to understand that the type and level of authority granted to texts differed from person to person, or at least community to community.¹¹ Before proceeding, we must acknowledge this, and understand that whatever findings arise from the investigation of 1 Macc 3 – 4 will be more suggestive than compelling on the matter of the status in the broader Judean community. Challenges aside, it is clear that at least some of the tradents working on 1 Maccabees, including the author responsible for the Emmaus account, desire to portray the Hasmoneans and their followers as being faithful to teachings of the νόμος at times.¹² Further, the author of this passage mentions a “book of the torah” (τὸ βιβλίον τοῦ νόμου) in which such instruction can be found. This fact, in our opinion, makes it permissible to attempt to read practices out-

 The discussion of the status of texts in early Judaism is fraught with complexity. Though  Maccabees tells of books of the law, a book of the covenant, and even holy books, the identity of the books is unclear, as are their precise contents. For a longer discussion see Borchardt, “Concepts of Scripture”.  See Lim, “Authoritative Scriptures,” esp. ; and Zahn, “Rewritten Texts,” esp. . Both Lim and Zahn reflect on several of the difficulties with recognizing a text’s authority outside of a given context. On a similar note in the context of a much larger discussion, McDonald, Biblical Canon, .  E.g.  Macc : – , about which Hieke, “Role of ‘Scripture’,” , writes “from the very beginning the Last Words of Mattathias connect the situation of the Maccabees with the critical time of Israel’s origin in the Torah: for their own time as well as their own deeds the text underscores a fundamental accord with the Torah.”

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side of the specific citations as belonging to the broad category of νόμος, whatever that might mean. It also allows for the possibility of written sources considered to contain part or all of the νόμος. It remains unclear, however, precisely which material might comprise such a collection. We will highlight some of the most interesting passages to deal with the application of law in the narrative of the battle of Emmaus. The passages of interest to our study fall within three general categories: 1) verses in which the law is explicitly mentioned, 2) verses that make reference to former or traditional practice in order to justify a current act, 3) verses making no references but which appear similar to practices advocated in texts dealing with martial law or custom. The two first categories are understandably limited in such a short story, while the third category has many possible points of contact. We will make a selection of those verses to illustrate the type of references to which we refer. The first category of specific references is undoubtedly of the most interest to anyone superficially familiar with 1 Maccabees. The only reference to a book of the law comes at 3:48. It is a notoriously difficult text to interpret. Literally it reads “and they unrolled the scroll of the law concerning what things the peoples consult the images of their idols.”¹³ Several scholars, most notably Jonathan Goldstein, have argued that the Hasmoneans were looking for the places within this scroll wherein the Seleucids and their Judean supporters found justification for their cultic innovations.¹⁴ Assuming that the contents of this book resemble any body of text that would later be referred to as law within Judean and later Jewish tradition, it is certainly a plausible argument. There are any number of texts within the parascriptures that could prove embarrassing for the Hasmonean “orthodox” position.¹⁵ However, more frequently, scholars will interpret this passage to mean that the book of the law was being consulted in the same way as sculptures and pla-

 Translation mine.  Goldstein, I Maccabees,  – , understands this episode to be modeled upon that in  Kgs : – ; Isa : – , arguing that Antiochus IV and his officers make use of the torah to find areas wherein patriarchs and other famed Israelites perform similar rites and practices to those innovations introduced under the Seleucids. However, Bar-Kochva, Judas Maccabeus,  n. , is probably correct when he asserts “The notion that Antiochus Epiphanes, who ordered the Torah scrolls to be torn, burned and forgotten (I Macc. ., ), would bother searching them for evidence of his faith is quite absurd.” Nevertheless, we cannot endorse Bar-Kochva’s suggestion that the scrolls have had images of idols painted upon them.  If we think only of  Maccabees’ objections to sacrifice in locations outside of Jerusalem (:; : – , ), any number of texts would prove challenging to them (e. g. Gen :; Exod :; Josh : – [!]).

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ques might be in some gentile contexts.¹⁶ Given that there is a clear example of supplication in the following verses, including Judeans literally asking for aid, this second more common interpretation would seem to make more sense.¹⁷ In the second mention of the law, at 3:56, Judas “told to those who were building houses, engaged to women, planting vineyards, or cowardly to return each to his home, according to the law (κατὰ τὸν νόμον).” Here Judas is clearly granting exemptions to members of his force before they march out to battle the invading Seleucid army. The second category of texts, which cite former practice as a basis for current acts poses a question for the modern reader. The authorities cited are narrative stories, either known by one of their familiar written forms, or through oral transmission. Can we consider these too, to be “law” broadly understood? For those stories appearing in our current Pentateuch the reaction is likely positive, given the evidence for this literature being included in the law among various sources, including other passages in 1 Macc, around this time.¹⁸ But what about those stories currently appearing only in other collections not traditionally associated with law? Is there some empirical or theoretical difference in the way these stories are cited by the author of this account? We have the opportunity to reflect more deeply on these ideas when we compare individual accounts. Before the battle at Emmaus begins, but after the Hasmoneans have become aware of the invading Seleucid force, they gather together all their allies in order to discern a plan of action. In the face of a largely abandoned Jerusalem, and a desecrated temple, the Hasmoneans decide to gather at Mizpah. The author specifically cites as the reason for this decision “because there was formerly a place of prayer for Israel in Mizpah.” The recollection of the former function of the site seems to be used as justification for the choice of meeting place. The reason Mizpah is the proper location is that Israel used to meet here before the temple was

 So Bartlett, Books,  – ; Dancy, Commentary,  – . But, see the objections of Doran, First Book,  – , who argues this is hard to justify both grammatically and based on the ideals of  Maccabees, which would not compare the torah to idols. He prefers a reading in which the Hasmoneans read the torah concerning what to do with the Gentile idols.  This reading remains more likely than even Doran’s recent thesis (see n. ) because :– introduces the first fruits, tithes, priestly garments, and Nazirites, and has the Hasmoneans question what is to be done with these items. If they are specifically inquiring what is to be done with the items belonging to the temple, it seems illogical to suggest that they are instead inquiring as to what is to be done concerning the idols.  Here we can point to  Macc : –  where Mattathias slays a fellow Judean κατὰ τὸ κρίμα, while imitating Phinehas killing Zimri (Num : – ), and at a later period Philo’s arguments for the inclusion of narrative elements in the law (De Abrahamo ), which include the portrayal of a model life.

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established.¹⁹ This is strange because no justification should be required. The Hasmoneans are not sacrificing at Mizpah, nor performing any special ritual. However, a central aspect of the meeting involves collecting priestly vestments, first fruits, tithes, and the Nazirites who have completed their vows. Every one of these items belongs to the Jerusalem temple within Judean tradition.²⁰ Since the temple is not accessible to the Hasmoneans at this point, and would not be ritually pure even if it were, according to the author, they need a substitute.²¹ Mizpah is their choice for this communication because it was previously used for such purposes. In the midst of a speech encouraging his troops before mounting their offensive, Judas exhorts them to 4:9

Recall how our ancestors were delivered in the Red Sea when Pharaoh pursued them. Now let us call out to Heaven, if he will favor us and will remember the covenant of our ancestors, and will crush this encampment before us today. 11 And all the peoples will know there is a redeemer and savior for Israel.²²

10

Here the recollection of past events is used as both encouragement for possible future outcomes and the authority upon which the appeal to Heaven is based. The troops should call out to Heaven for aid because Heaven has aided a people identified as Israel before on account of his covenant with them. This should all be done for the greater glory of the divinity. The third category of verses, which have possible connections to laws and former traditions in Israel, presents far too many examples to cover exhaustively. Let us look at two such verses. These appear in the immediate vicinity of one another and deal with practices different from those already covered in the other two categories. At 3:54, after calling upon Heaven for aid in war and advice con-

 The function of this passage as justification for the meeting site need not compete with other explanations for the choice, such as the strategic military advantage offered by Bar-Kochva, Judas Maccabeus, , and Doran, First Book, . It can be true that this site was selected for its military advantages, but was justified by the traditional associations, or that it was selected both for its traditional value and its strategic benefits. In any case, only the traditional association is mentioned following the conjunction ὃτι.  As is noted by Dancy, Commentary, ; Bartlett, Books, ; Goldstein, I Maccabees, ; BarKochva, Judas Maccabeus, –; and Doran, First Book, . Vestments: Exod :–; First fruits: Exod :; Num :; Deut :; Tithes: Lev : – ; Num : – .  For the desecration of the temple and its inaccessibility see,  Macc :, , ; :; for the subsequent need for purification see,  Macc : – ; for Mizpah as a substitute for the temple see, Doran, First Book, .  Translation mine.

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cerning the various elements that belong to the temple, the Hasmonean trumpeters are presented blowing their trumpets and crying aloud. In the context, it is possible that this is tied to the request for divine aid before battle. At 3:55, just one verse later, Judas is depicted naming officers over the thousands, hundreds, fifties, and tens among his followers. Again, these two allusions help shape the picture of Judas and his troops, just as the more explicit references to text and tradition.

Comparisons I will now compare each of the verses in 1 Maccabees mentioned above with ostensibly similar passages found within the ancestral literature of Israel. Let us begin with the first category. 1 Macc 3:48 was the first of the two verses in this category. Here, as the battle of Emmaus approaches the Hasmoneans unroll a scroll of the law. As we discussed above, the context suggests that the most likely reason for them to look into the scroll of the law is that they were seeking divine aid or advice. This is suggested because, after opening the scroll the Hasmoneans ask for advice from Heaven as to what to do with the first fruits, Nazirites who completed their vows, tithes, and priestly vestments. They continue to describe their dire situation before closing with a plea for divine aid in battle: “How would we be able to withstand them face to face, if you would not help us?” The passage is a bit of a puzzle when looking for links to martial custom or instruction. Nowhere else do we find members of a community identifying itself as Israel consulting a book of the law before battle in order to seek divine aid.²³ We do find, on occasion, heroes within the ancestral tradition, who consult God concerning war. Often this is accomplished through prophecy, as in the case of Hezekiah against the Rabshakeh in 2 Kgs 19. Occasionally, the consultation is made through direct address, as in the case of David against the Philistines, at 2 Sam 5:19. David also uses the ephod as a means for finding divine will before war in 1 Sam 30:7– 8. The Temple Scroll (11Q19) at 58:18 – 21 forbids going out to war without the consultation of the High Priest using Urim and Thummim. In Judg 6:36 – 40 Gideon consults the Lord about his impending battle through a sign-test. None of these passages belong to what we would traditionally assign

 Bartlett, Books, .

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to law; this does not mean it was so for the author, however.²⁴ That aside, there is no direct corollary to the use of the scroll of the law as a means for summoning divine help. This may mean that due to the circumstances of having no temple, no trustworthy prophets (1 Macc 4:46; 14:41), and no reliable means of testing divine will, the author has innovated a use for the law, that is nevertheless based on traditional martial practice. It might otherwise suggest that the means of seeking divine aid in warfare was not law for the author, but the necessity for supplication was. Alternatively, it could just be that our author here was not intending for his heroes to follow any martial law or custom, but only portray them as covering all the bases. It is remarkable that even where the book of the law is referenced, there is no obvious basis for the acts which follow. 1 Macc 3:56, which cites the law as the reason for exempting soldiers from battle, is far less complex, and probably less interesting. The verse appears to be extremely close in content to the instructions found in Deut 20:5 – 9.²⁵ It is possible to dispute whether the author knows this instruction from some version of Deuteronomy, some other writing, or merely through tradition, but evidence would suggest a textual source. As the previous passage illustrates, the author knows and reveres some scroll as law. Though this scroll need not contain the specific teaching within it, the only other explicit reference to the law in this passage is suggestive. The order in which the exemptions appear in 1 Maccabees is slightly different with the planting of a vineyard and betrothal being reversed, but it probably reflects fluid attitudes toward textual form and content.²⁶ Whether the author was familiar with the collection of martial laws in Deut 20 in toto is a different question, which the example is probably not equipped to answer.²⁷ Here the law is integrated into the narrative of battle as if it were being copied, a marked difference from the previous example. Turning toward the second category of former practices being cited as the reason for current acts, we are greeted with fundamental issues concerning the relationship between text, tradition, and authority. Though it is not an

 Taking the Temple Scroll as an example, one need only look to VanderKam, “Questions of Canon,” , who argues the Temple Scroll among other texts seem to have been conceived of as torah, at least for the Qumran community.  As noted by nearly all commentators, e. g. Dancy, Commentary, ; Bartlett, Books, ; Goldstein, I Maccabees, ; Bar-Kochva, Judas Maccabeus, ; Doran, First Book, .  As evidenced by the contemporary manuscripts at Qumran. See the discussion in Ulrich, Dead Sea Scrolls, particularly in ch. , entitled “Multiple Literary Editions: Reflections Toward a Theory of the History of the Biblical Text.”  The proliferation of such texts as Reworked Pentateuch, Temple Scroll, and Jubilees may well be suggestive. See VanderKam, “Questions of Canon”.

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easy task to enter the mind of the author, we can see from the immediate context why Mizpah might demand an apology in 3:46. There are indications it is standing in as a proxy for the temple. Besides becoming the location of central gathering for the community, Mizpah is also the destination for the first fruits (Deut 12:6), tithes (Deut 12:6, 12), priestly vestments (Exod 28, 35), and Nazirites (Num 6:13 – 21), all of which belong to the temple. Though the replacement, even if only temporary, is understandable given the circumstances of an inaccessible and impure Jerusalem, the actual choice of location probably requires justification due to the reference to laws unassumingly worked into the narrative. Judean tradition, at least for the author of 1 Maccabees, has not received Mizpah as the place that the Lord had chosen. That was Jerusalem. In a sense, the author has depicted the Hasmoneans as skirting the boundaries of the law by going to Mizpah, in order that they do not break the law by misappropriating the firstlings, tithes, priestly vestments, and Nazirites. The actual explanation given for the innovation is based in the prior traditions of Israel. The expectation appears to be that Mizpah is appropriate because it was once a place of prayer. There are several known texts that depict Mizpah as a place of prayer and gathering for an entity identifying itself as Israel. Judg 20 – 21 and 1 Sam 7 are the most extensive candidates for being the possible basis for the choice of Mizpah. 1 Sam 7 is especially appealing given the various ways this text corresponds with the account in 1 Macc 3.²⁸ Both accounts have the people gathering as a whole at Mizpah. Both stories too witness the congregation fasting. Each of the narratives also features the leaders of the congregation crying out to the divinity for aid against a powerful neighbor, alongside a subsequent victory for Israel. These aspects of the story present an enticing possible source for the decision to choose Mizpah. There is a major difference, however: in 1 Sam 7, Samuel sacrifices a lamb in order to communicate with the Lord. As we have already discussed 1 Macc 3 includes no such sacrifice, but tries to attain divine aid by a combination of prayer and reading the book of the torah. Because of the nature of the conflict in 1 Maccabees, it is not difficult to guess why the author might use this story as an inspiration but not include sacrifice someplace else than Jerusalem. As Jerusalem is presumed to be the place that Yhwh has chosen by 1 Maccabees (e. g. 2:7– 13), sacrificing elsewhere would seemingly be out of the question (see especially 2:23 – 26). Therefore this divergence between the two stories is not decisive in rejecting 1 Sam 7 as a possible source. It may also help to explain the innovation we observed in the use of the book of the law to find divine favor at 1 Macc 3:48. Of course, the link to 1 Sam 7

 So also Goldstein, I Maccabees, .

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is not clear, and could arise from a different textual or oral source. It is notable, though, that whether it is 1 Sam 7, Judg 20 – 21, or some other source that is the reason for the choice of Mizpah, none of these belong to categories we would traditionally categorize as law. Yet, this narrative tradition stands with the force of law, cited in the same way as Deut 20:5 – 9. The second set of verses belonging to this category, 4:8 – 11, has two obvious corresponding texts in the Pentateuch. As the account recalls the events at the Red Sea, Exod 14 is one prospect for a source. Another option more directly tied to Judas’ behavior is the opening verses of Deut 20:1– 4. We should acknowledge that it is also likely that the exodus myth was deeply engrained in cultural memory. There is no firm reason to believe such a passage necessitates a textual source. The recollection of the events at the Red Sea is general. Further, the only act that is based upon this remembrance is Judas’ exhortation not to fear the more powerful Seleucid forces because Heaven has saved their ancestors before at the Red Sea, and has a covenant ensuring this. It is true that both Exod 14:13 and Deut 20:1– 4 include admonishments against fear of enemies due to divine military aid. It is also true that 1 Macc 4:11, which acknowledges that the enemy will come to know the savior and deliverer of Israel through this military victory seems to echo the sentiment at Exod 14:18, in which the Egyptians will know that Yhwh is Lord after defeating Pharaoh and his chariots. Of further interest is that Deut 20, a text with which the author has already demonstrated some familiarity, expressly instructs members of the community not to fear greater forces specifically because of the Lord’s saving acts in Egypt. Because Judas is a priest, Judas’ encouragement could be read as an attempt to keep the martial law applying to priests in Deut 20:2 – 4. Though it should be noted he only gives a speech with the sense rather than the letter of the command in those verses. In this case the more specific remembrance of the events at the Red Sea could be understood as an example of synecdoche, or even a fluid interpretation of the instruction of Deut 20:1– 4 wherein details are included from the story in Exod 14 in order to help the audience to remember Heaven’s saving acts. Here we may observe an artful linking of legal and narrative elements of the Pentateuch to depict Hasmonean commitment to the law. The author here may recognize the role that narrative plays in reinforcing the commands of the law. This can be observed also in other texts that have received the traditions of Exodus and Deuteronomy. The third category of texts is comprised of acts with possible, though nonspecific, analogies in the written traditions that come down to us. The first example, at 3:54 which indicates that the Hasmoneans blew their trumpets after calling upon Heaven for help, has a legal link. Num 10:9, part of a longer section

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dictating the proper use of trumpets within Israel teaches that before battle against an attacking enemy the priests should blow a series of short blasts to remind God of the people and to summon him to deliver them.²⁹ The connection with the battle of Emmaus is obvious. A Seleucid force has invaded Judea. Israel has assembled and requested divine aid in an imminent battle just one verse earlier. Though the type of trumpet blast is not specifically described, it seems rather likely that the description is related to the invocation custom preserved in Num 10:9. As with many of the other passages we have examined, it is not possible to prove that this is based on the text, instead of on what might have been an established military custom. We can only argue that the link is possible due to the text’s familiarity with a book of the law, and with specific martial laws. The law here again would be woven into the narrative material underlining Hasmonean commitment to the torah. One verse later Judas proceeds to appoint leaders of the people; over groups of 1000, 100, 50, and 10. This has a link to Deut 1:15 where Moses ostensibly recalls the institution of these positions within the civil leadership of Israel.³⁰ It is not difficult to understand how this narrative example might have been interpreted with the force of law. We also observe similar types of divisions in expressly martial situations under Moses at Num 31:48 and David at 2 Sam 18:1, where commanders of 1000 s and 100 s are mentioned. The specific list of four different categories of leaders fits best with Deut 1:15. The military setting is observed more clearly in Numbers and 2 Samuel. All three of these texts are essentially narrative sections of text, but are tied to important figures and events in Israel’s written traditions. In this case, as in others observed above, law appears to be understood equally as the content of narrative and legal text.

Conclusions In the account of the battle of Emmaus we have observed several examples of text and tradition being recalled with the authority some might reserve for explicitly legal material. Though this occurs in various different ways: specific reference to the law, recollection of ancient traditions, and possible allusions, a sense of concern for the ancestral authority is clearly communicated. Interestingly, whether the law is specifically cited or allusions are made, a potent mixture of innovation and reverence is on display. The book of the law, for example, ap-

 Bar-Kochva, Judas Maccabeus,  – .  Doran, First Book, ; Bar-Kochva, Judas Maccabeus, ; Bartlett, Books, .

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pears to be used as a means of attaining divine aid. Likewise, justification for establishing Mizpah as a meeting place comes not from the Pentateuch, but from traditional practice reflected in Judges and 1 Samuel. This is so even as Pentateuchal commands are interpreted to be risk of being broken. On the other hand the exemptions from military service and the use of trumpets in warfare seem to be observed without adaptation, regardless of whether they are specifically cited or only alluded to. How does this reflect on the relationship between law and narrative for the author of this account? The most likely conclusion is that little distinction exists. Texts including statutes and ordinances and texts containing narrative are both to be understood as torah. They are different but linked means of communicating a law that they both reflect.

Bibliography Bar-Kochva, Bezalel. Judas Maccabeus: The Jewish Struggle Against the Seleucids. Cambridge et al.: Cambridge University Press, 1989. Bartlett, John R. The First and Second Books of the Maccabees. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1973. Borchardt, Francis. “Concepts of Scripture in 1 Maccabees.” In Thematic Studies. Vol. 1 of Early Christian Literature and Intertextuality, edited by Craig A. Evans / H. Daniel Zacharias, 24 – 41. LNTS 391. London / New York: T&T Clark, 2009. —. The Torah in 1Maccabees: A Literary Critical Approach to the Text. DCLS 19. Berlin / Boston: de Gruyter, 2014. Dancy, John C. A Commentary on 1 Maccabees. Oxford: Blackwell, 1954. Doran, Robert. The First Book of Maccabees: Introduction, Commentary, and Reflections. New Interpreter’s Bible 4. Nashville: Abingdon, 1996. Goldstein, Jonathan. I Maccabees. AB 41. Garden City: Doubleday, 1976. Harrington, Daniel. The Maccabean Revolt: Anatomy of a Revolution. Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1988. Hieke, Thomas. “The Role of ‘Scripture’ in the Last Words of Mattathias (1 Macc 2:49 – 70).” In The Books of the Maccabees: History, Theology, Ideology, Papers of the Second International Conference on the Deuterocanonical Books, Pápa, Hungary, 9 – 11 June, 2005, edited by Géza G. Xeravits / József Zsengellér, 61 – 74. JSJ.S 118. Leiden / Boston: Brill, 2007. Kraft, Robert A. “Paramania: Beside, Before and Beyond Biblical Studies.” JBL 126 (2007): 5 – 27. Lim, Timothy. “Authoritative Scriptures and the Dead Sea Scrolls.” In The Oxford Handbook of the Dead Sea Scrolls, edited by Timothy Lim / John J. Collins, 303 – 22. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010. Mason, Steve. “Jews, Judaeans, Judaizing, Judaism: Problems of Categorization in Ancient History.” JJS 38 (2007): 457 – 512.

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McDonald, Lee. The Biblical Canon: Its Origin, Transmission, and Authority. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2007. Renaud, Bernard. “La Loi et les Lois dans Les Livres des Maccabées.” RB 68 (1961): 39 – 52. Ulrich, Eugene. The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Origins of the Bible. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999. VanderKam, James. “Questions of Canon Viewed through the Dead Sea Scrolls.” BBR 11 (2001): 269 – 92. Williams, David. The Structure of 1Maccabees. CBQ.MS 31. Washington: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1999. Zahn, Molly M. “Talking about Rewritten Texts: Some Reflections on Terminology.” In Changes in Scripture: Rewriting and Interpreting Authoritative Traditions in the Second Temple Period, edited by Hanne von Weissenberg et al., 93 – 119. BZAW 419. Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 2011.

Annette Steudel (Georg-August-Universität Göttingen)

Biblical Warfare Legislation in the War Scroll (1QM VII:1‒7 and X:1‒8)

The War Scroll from Qumran Cave 1 deals with the eschatological battle of the Sons of Light against the Sons of Darkness.¹ It includes regulations for the preparation and execution of war, prayers and blessings to be recited according to its different phases, as well as a description of the sequence of war against the Kittim.² The War Scroll from Cave 1 is the best preserved manuscript of the War Rule.³ Mainly because of the fragmentary character of the 4QM-manuscripts, the relationship of the different War Rule copies from cave 1 and 4 has not yet been fully investigated.⁴ What is obivious so far is that the manuscripts, all from the first century BCE, are not simply copies of but rather represent different versions of the War Rule.⁵ The process of literary development is still visible in the copy from cave 1 itself.⁶ To demonstrate this, two passages from 1QM will be studied in the following: 1QM VII:1‒7 and 1QM X:1‒8. To start with the analysis of 1QM VII:1‒7:⁷ Age limits 1

and the men of the army shall be from forty to fifty (Num 8:25‒26) years old. The commissioners of the camps shall be from fifty to sixty [corrected from: forty to fifty] years old (Num 8:25‒26). The officers 2 shall also be from forty to fifty (Num 8:25‒26) years old. All those who strip the slain, plunder the spoil, cleanse the land, guard the arms, 3a and he who prepares the provisions, all these shall be from twenty-five (Num 8:24) to thirty years old (Num 4).

 See Sukenik, Dead Sea Scrolls.  See Duhaime, War Texts.  Baillet, Qumrân Grotte .  A material reconstruction of the Q-manuscripts with the help of the so-called Stegemannmethod would seem fruitful.  This was first observed by Hunzinger, “Fragmente”.  The most comprehensive analysis of the literary development in QM is still that of Davies, War Scroll. For a recent study see Schultz, “Compositional Layers”.  For the translation cf. Accordance, OakTree Software Inc. No QM parallels to the passage QM VII:‒ exist.

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Disqualifications and purity of the camp 3b

No youth nor woman shall enter their encampments from the time they leave from Jerusalem to go to battle until their return. No one crippled, blind or lame, nor a man who has a permanent blemish on his skin, or a man affected with ritual uncleanness of 5 his flesh (Lev 21:17‒21); none of these shall go with them to battle. All of them shall be volunteers (Deut 20:5‒8) for battle, pure of spirit and flesh, and prepared for the day of vengeance. Any 6a man who is not ritually clean in respect to his genitals on the day of battle shall not go down with them into battle, for holy angels are present with their army (Deut 23:15). 6b There shall be a space 7 between all their camps and the latrine of about two thousand cubits, and no shameful nakedness shall be seen in the environs of all their camps (Deut 23:13, 15). (vacat)

4

1QM VII:1‒7 forms the end of a longer passage starting in col. V:3 which presents different rules for the fighting battalions. This passage deals with the disposition of the army, its weapons and in 1QM VII:1‒7 with rules on qualifications and disqualifications of the army and the purity of its camp. There might have been other rules on qualification in the lost end of the preceding col. VI. At least it is clear that our passage must have started somewhere in the missing bottom of col. VI, because col. VII begins with ‫ואנשי הסרך‬.⁸ 1QM VII:1‒7 can be divided into three sections, the last two of which are closely related to each other. The first sub-section, ll. 1‒3a, deals with the age limits for different groups in the army. This topic links it with the preceding section in col. VI:11 ff. where in ll. 13b‒14 the age limits of the horsemen who go with the skirmishers, are given as thirty to forty-five years, as well as the age limits of the “horsemen of the rule”, forty to forty-five years. Here in col. VII:1‒3a the age limits of further groups are as follows: – The men of the rule (‫)אנשי הסרך‬, which is the main army, or heavy infantry: ages forty to fifty (l. 1a) – The commissioners of the camp (‫)סורכי המחנות‬: ages fifty to sixty, originally the scribe had written forty to fifty (l. 1b) – The officers (‫)השוטרים‬: “also” ages forty to fifty (l. 1c‒2a). ‫ גם‬was obviously forgotten to be deleted when the age of the preceding commissioners was changed. This seems to speak for the fact that (as in 1QS, the Rule of the Community) rules, especially numbers, were changed over time, demonstrating the ongoing process of reworking. – Non-fighting men who, for instance, guard the weapons and bury the dead: ages twenty-five to thirty (ll. 2b‒3a)  The end of the War Scroll has been lost by natural decay, as has the bottom part of each column.

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185

This means that the age limits for active combat duty range from thirty to fifty and for non-combatants from twenty-five to sixty. None of these age limits given in 1QM VII has a parallel in the Hebrew Bible. Num 1:3 ff and further texts in the Book of Numbers note twenty years as the age of conscription or eligibility to serve as an active soldier.⁹ But Philip Davies has made the interesting observation that nevertheless the lower and upper age limits can be found in the Book of Numbers, namely in levitical regulations.¹⁰ Thus, twenty-five years is the lower limit given in Num 8:24 for service in the tent of meeting by a levite, and thirty years is the limit in Num 4.¹¹ According to Num 8:25‒26, a levite retires at the age of fifty from regular service, but might continue to perform lesser duties, to which the age of sixty in 1QM might correspond. If we compare the age limits in 1QM with those in other Qumran texts, we find the outer limits in CD X:6, where twenty-five to sixty years is the age limit for judges of the Edah. Philip Davies cautiously suggests that that the age limits of 1QM might simply be drawn from Jewish military practice, about which we know very little in this regard. Considering the ambiguity of the issue, we will abstain from building on this observation on age limits in our later analysis of 1QM. The following part of 1QM VII:1‒7 concerns disqualifications and the purity of the war camps. Lines 4b‒5a, the list of disqualified persons, is very similar to Lev 21:17‒21 (esp. to v. 18), a text that lists those priests who are disqualified from offering sacrifices. With respect to Qumran, the list in 1QM VII has a parallel in CD XV:15‒17 and its textual continuation in 4QDa (frg. 8 i:6 – 9) and 4QDe (frg. 6 ii:8‒9), as well as 1QSa II:3‒9. Besides the Damascus Document, the Serekh ha-Edah (1QSa) could also be mentioned as a parallel for the lower age limits (twenty-five and thirty years). Both the Damascus Document and the Serekh ha-Edah refer to their own community as being organized according to the encampment rules of the Book of Numbers. And the Book of Numbers is in the background also of our scene, namely Num 5:1‒4, dealing with the purification of the camp. 1QM VII:6 furthermore shares with the passages in the Damascus Document and the Serekh ha-Edah the reason for disqualification taken from Deut 23:15: “For the Lord your God walks in the midst of your camp.” All three Qumran texts modify the idea of Deut 23:15 by substituting ‫“( יהוה אלהיך‬the Lord your  This corresponds to  Chr :.  Davies, War Scroll,  – .  The Septuagint reads “twenty-five” in Num , obviously to correlate the specifications with Num :.

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God”) through ‫“ מלאכי קודש‬holy angels.” The presence of angels among the community is a feature well known from other Qumran texts.¹² 1QM VII is the only of these three Qumran texts which continues with the same passage from Deuteronomy, drawing on the preceding verses in Deut 23:10‒15 concerning the latrine outside of the camp. Supplementing Deuteronomy, which does not give the exact distance, 1QM VII:7 specifies the distance between the camp and the latrine as “about two thousand” cubits.¹³ The rule in 1QM VII:5 that all shall be ‫“( אנשי נדבת מלחמה‬volunteers in battle”), seems to have its root in Deut 20:5‒8. It is similarly found in Judg 5:2, 9 and otherwise has a strong relationship to cultic service. With regard to Qumran the volunteers, ‫( הנדבים‬e. g., 1QS I:7) or ‫( המתנדבים‬e. g., 1QS V:1), also from the root ‫נד״ב‬, although not exactly the same expression, is a self-designation of the community.¹⁴ At least here in 1QM VII:5 the reference to the volunteers might be rooted in an interpretation of Deut 20:5‒8. Together also with Deut 23, it is explicitly quoted in 1QM X, which will be discussed further below. To summarize so far: The background of the envisaged war camp is the rules of the camp found in Num 1‒10. Rules which, in their biblical context, refer to levites and priests serving in the cult and to the camp in the wilderness, are applied in the War Scroll to the battle camps of the envisaged eschatological war. Only the rule from Deut 23 and, if the identification is correct, Deut 20 are biblical war texts. A number of parallels to other Qumran compositions exist, especially for those who see the community as being organized according to Num 1‒10. Further investigation is needed to see whether 1QM VII directly draws on the biblical texts or rather on the other Qumran texts or vice versa. To continue with 1QM X:1‒8:¹⁵ 1

of our camps, and to keep ourselves from any shameful nakedness (Deut 23:10), and he (Moses) told us that You are in our midst (Deut 23:15), a great and awesome God (Deut 7:21), plundering all of 2 our enemies befo[re u]s (Deut 7:22). He taught us from of old through all our generations, saying, “When you approach the battle, the priest shall stand and speak unto the people, 3 saying, ‘Hear O Israel, you are approaching the battle against your enemies today. Do not be afraid nor fainthearted. 4 Do not trem[ble, no]r be terrified because of them, for your God goes with you, to fight for you against your enemies, and to save

 Cf. e. g. QS XI:‒, and QH XIV: (= Suk. VI:).  The Temple Scroll (Q) from Qumran mentions  cubits (Q XLVI:‒).  Cf. Dimant, “Volunteers”.  For the translation cf. Accordance, OakTree Software Inc. No QM parallels to the passage QM X:‒ exist.

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187

5

you’” (Deut 20:2‒4). Our [of]ficers shall speak to all those prepared for battle, those willing of heart, to strengthen them by the might of God, to turn back all 6 who have lost heart (Deut 20:8), and to strengthen all the valiant warriors together. They shall recount that which You s[poke] by the hand of Moses, saying: “And when there is a war 7 in your land against the adversary who attacks you, then yo[u] shall sound an alarm with the trumpets and you will be remembered before your God 8 and be saved from your enemies” (Num 10:9).

The passage 1QM X:1‒8 belongs to the first of a series of war prayers. The actual beginning of this speech, which extends up to col. XII:6, is lost somewhere in the missing bottom part of col. IX. In order to understand this section in the War Rule, one has to take a brief look at the biblical text on which 1QM is based, and that is Deut 20:1‒9, the encouragement for war, including the law of conscription. Deut 20:1‒9 is structured as follows:¹⁶ 1. Opening statement of Deuteronomy not to be afraid of war (v. 1) 2. Speech of “the priest” as they approach war, calling on the army not to be afraid (vv. 2‒4) 3. Speech of the officers (‫ )שטרים‬setting out three exemptions from military service: a. One who built a new house but did not dedicate it (v. 5) b. One who planted a vineyard but has not yet harvested it (v. 6) c. One who has bethroted a woman but has not yet married her (v. 7) 4. Continued (second?) speech of the officers adding an exemption: 5. d. One who is afraid (v. 8) 6. Appointment of lower commanders over military units

The situation described in 1QM is that of the camp taking its (first) journey to go to war against its enemies, that is, the situation of Num 10. And “the priest,” as he is called in Deut 20, stands in front of the camp and recites a prayer of encouragement, similarly to what we find in 2 Chr 20. This prayer lasts until col. XII. Here, in 1QM X:1‒8a the prayer looks like a kind of “midrash” on different sets of warfare legislation from the Hebrew Bible which are identified with each other. It is interesting that this section of the prayer exegetically combines Deut 20 with Deut 23, which we have already seen in 1QM VII; it is interlinked with Deut 7, and in the end of the passage with a verse from Num 10. To go into a bit more detail: In 1QM X:1 the conclusion of a sub-section is preserved that recalls Moses’ command to maintain the purity of the camp. Deut 23:10 is quoted in l. 1a. And the reason for keeping the camp pure is given, as in 1QM VII, by a quotation of Deut 23:15 in l. 1b: “for you are in our  The following structure is taken from Schiffman, “Law of Conscription”.

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midst.”¹⁷ This latter phrase is actually also part of Deut 7:21, which continues to be quoted here in l. 1c: “a great and awesome God.” It functions as a kind of bridge to what follows, namely “the priest” reciting Deut 20:2‒4 in front of the war. The quotation of Deut 20:2‒4 is one out of five explicit citations in 1QM, all of which belong to the prayer section. To introduce his recitation, the priest uses a kind of citation formula: “He taught us from of old through all our generations, saying: …” Then follows Deut 20:2‒4. The exemption of one who built a new house but did not dedicate it (Deut 20:5), one who planted a vineyard but has not yet harvested it (Deut 20:6), and one who has betrothed a woman but has not yet married her (Deut 20:7) is lacking in 1QM, at least in its preserved parts. Nevertheless, the exemption spoken by the ‫“( שטרים‬officers”), exempting the one who is afraid (Deut 20:8), is introduced now in 1QM X:5‒8 as follows: 5

“Our [of]ficers shall speak to all those prepared for battle, those willing of heart, to strengthen them by the might of God, to turn back all 6 who have lost heart, and to strengthen all the valiant warriors together. They shall recount that which You s[poke] by the hand of Moses, saying: ‘And when there is a war 7 in your land against the adversary who attacks you, then yo[u] shall sound an alarm with the trumpets and you will be remembered before your God 8 and be saved from your enemies’ (Num 10:9).”

The officers from Deut 20—instead of saying to the camp, “What man is there that is fearful and fainthearted? Let him go and return unto his house, lest his brethren’s heart faint as well as his heart” (Deut 20:8)—now encourage the camp by declaring a verse from the book of Numbers. They let the people know that with the sounding of the trumpets they will be remembered before God and will be saved. The word ‫“( נושעתם‬you will be saved”) in Num 10:9 was obviously the impetus for combining this verse from Numbers with the passage in Deut 20, where in v. 4 also a phrase with the root ‫ יש״ע‬is quoted, which is ‫“( להושיע אתכם‬to save you”). Num 10:9 is connected with Deut 20 via the formulation “And if you go to war,” which is not exactly the same (Deut 20:1 and 2 use ‫ יצ״א‬and ‫קר״ב‬, while Num 10:8 uses ‫)בו״א‬, but the sense is clear. Thus it was easy to exegetically combine Num 10:8 with the warfare legislation in Deut 20. The trumpet of Num 10:8 links the passage 1QM X in an extremly characteristic way to the preceding part of 1QM II‒IX where, especially in VII‒IX, it is the instrument of the priests for directing the war. And there is a special rule concerning the different trumpets and their inscriptions in 1QM II‒III. In fact, all of the quotations in 1QM X link that passage back to the preceding section in

 Deut :: “for the Lord your God walks in the midst of your camp.”

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189

1QM II‒IX, which deals with the organization and tactics of the troop. We will come back to the crucial position of our passage within the War Rule below.¹⁸ 1QM X:1‒8 combines narrative and law with each other as well as with prayer in a sophisticated way. From the second-person singular in ll. 1 and 6 it is clear that the priest, in his speech at the departure of the camp, is actually addressing God in recalling what Mose had said, thereby fulfilling Deut 20:2. This has long been regarded as disruptive, and scholars have seen a redactor at work here.¹⁹ As will be shown in the following, the special position of 1QM X within the whole composition might be a further hint to such a hypothesis. In order to take into consideration the position of 1QM X, but also of our first text, 1QM VII:1‒7, it is necessary to have a brief look at the outline of the whole War Rule composition: 1QM I

QM II‒IX

Introduction Organization and Tactics II Mobilization of the troops II‒IV Trumpets + standards IV‒V Inscript. for Prince of the congregation V‒VII: Rules for fighting battalions VII:‒IX How the priests direct the battle with trumpets IX Rules to modify battalion formation

QM X‒XIV

QM XV‒XIX

War prayers War against Kittim X‒XII at the camp XIII on the battlefield XIV after the victory

The War Rule thus consists of three major parts: cols. II‒IX (regulations for the preparation and execution of the war), cols. X‒XIV (the war prayers), and cols. XV‒XVII (the war against the Kittim); col. I is a late redactional introduction. Our two passages occur at crucial points within the composition. Col. X:1‒8 opens the part with the war prayers but is quite distinctive from what follows. And 1QM VII:1‒7 comes at the end of the rules for the fighting battalions. If we subtract the short passage in col. IX on the rules for modifying the formation  The reseaon why the exemptions of Deut :‒ are missing in QM X is still a matter of debate. Is a different type of war envisaged, namely a war in which only volunteers took part (see especially the volunteers and the willing of heart in QM VIII and X, which derive from the interpretation of Deut )? Or did the exemption take place at an earlier time, still in the camp and not immediately before the battle (the fact that only the fearful is exempted in our passage would fit to such a scenario; in contrast to the other exemptions, it could not easily be foreseen who is fearful in the face of the enemy and who is not)?  Cf. e. g. Davies, War Scroll,  – .

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of the fighting battalion, then the only remaining passage between our two texts is the one on “How priests direct the war with trumpets” (col. VII:9‒IX), a text which is the only one in the War Scroll’s first part from cols. II‒IX in which priests play a role in warfare. The passage starts and ends with concerns about how the priests can maintain their ritual purity during the war. In the beginning, concerning their linen war garments which are forbidden to be brought into the sanctuary (col. VII:10‒12), and at the end (col. IX:7‒9) we find the prohibition of coming into contact with the impure blood of the slain enemy: neither the priests nor their oil of annointment should do so. Strikingly, both of our passages—the first in its end, the second in its beginning—also deal with purity rules. Both use Deut 23 when speaking about the purity of the camps. Thus, it is tempting to read both passages, 1QM VII and 1QM X in the given sequence, one after another, changing the prayer style, which adjusts the passage with the prayer section, into a narrative style. Of course, one has to keep in mind that a few lines are missing at the lost end of col. IX before X:1, that is, we expect at least one sentence on the priest who stands before the camp in order to give a speech of encouragement. If the suggested reading is correct, it would probably mean that the passage on the role of the priests in warfare was inserted into a text like 1QM VII+X. The connection between both texts is the theme of purity, as well as the priest and the trumpet from Num 10:8.²⁰ Much more work has to be done, not only on this special yet central textual area in the War Scroll, but on the remaining text as well. There is great potential for a new analysis of 1QM that systematically observes the biblical text that is used, differentiating between guiding texts and those that are of a supplementary nature.

Bibliography Baillet, Maurice. Qumrân Grotte 4.III. 4Q482‒4Q520. DJD 7. Oxford et al.: Clarendon Press, 1982. Davies, Philip R. 1QM: The War Scroll from Qumran: Its Structure and History. BibOr 32. Rome: Pontificio Istituto Biblico, 1977. Dimant, Devorah. “The Volunteers in the Rule of the Community: A Biblical Notion in Sectarian Garb.” RdQ 23 (2007): 233‒45.

 Von der Osten-Sacken, Gott und Belial,  – , has also seen the parallels between the end of our text in col. VII and the beginning of col. X, but he interprets col. X: – a differently as kernel of the war rules.

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Duhaime, Jean. The War Texts: 1QM and Related Manuscripts. Companion to the Qumran scrolls 6. London / New York, 2004. Hunzinger, Claus-Hunno. “Fragmente einer älteren Fassung des Buches Milhama aus Höhle 4 von Qumran.” ZAW 69 (1957): 131‒51. Schiffman, Lawrence H. “The Law of Conscription in the War Scroll.” In Qumran Cave 1 Revisited: Texts from Cave 1 Sixty Years after their Discovery. Proceedings of the Sixth Meeting of the IOQS in Ljubljana, edited by Daniel K. Falk et al., 179‒89. StTDJ 91. Leiden: Brill, 2010. Schultz, Brian. “Compositional Layers in the War Scroll (1QM).” In Qumran Cave 1 Revisited: Texts from Cave 1 Sixty Years after their Discovery. Proceedings of the Sixth Meeting of the IOQS in Ljubljana, edited by Daniel K. Falk et al., 153‒64. StTDJ 91. Leiden: Brill, 2010. Sukenik, Eliezer L. The Dead Sea Scrolls of the Hebrew University. Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1954 [Hebrew]. von der Osten-Sacken, Peter. Gott und Belial: Traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zum Dualismus in den Texten aus Qumran. StUNT 6. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1969.

Index of sources Mesopotamian Sources LH §153 127 §227 127

MAL A §§50 – 56 127 A §53 127 A §55 127

Ugaritic Sources CAT 1.14 II 43 – 50 141

RS 17.340 41

Aramaic and Moabite Sources KAI 181 92 KAI 181:17 125

KAI 222 C:1,12‒13 129

Elephantine B2.6:15, 25 41

B3.3:8 – 10 41

Greek Sources Hdt. 7,104,4 69

Hebrew Bible Gen

1 98

194

Index of sources

9 98 9:1 – 17 90 9:18 – 27 89 – 90 10 40; 90 10:15 – 17 90 12:16 38 13 37 13:6 35 13:7 89 13:8 35 13:11 – 12 35 13:13 30 13:14 – 17 36 13:15 40 13:18 35; 43 14 23 – 58 14:1 – 7 31 – 34 14:1 47 14:3 26; 49 14:4 40 14:5 – 7 42; 44 14:5 40; 42; 44; 47 14:8 – 11 25 – 27 14:8 30; 32 – 34; 49 14:9 31 – 34; 40 14:10 30; 32 – 34; 47 14:11 28 – 30; 32; 42 14:12 – 17 27 – 30 14:12 33; 35 – 36; 40 14:13 34; 42; 44; 51 14:14 33 – 35; 37; 42 14:15 33 – 35; 37; 40 14:16 26; 33; 35; 37; 39 – 40; 46 14:17 25 – 26; 29 – 34; 40; 44; 47; 50; 52 14:18 – 20 25; 30; 34; 44 – 47; 48 – 50; 52 14:18 50 14:20 25; 45 – 46 14:21 – 24 29 – 30; 44; 51 – 52 14:21 25; 31; 33; 39; 50 14:22 31; 33 – 34; 38 14:23 31; 33 – 34; 38; 41 – 42; 50 14:24 27; 42 – 43; 47; 50 – 51 15:1 – 4 37 – 39 15:16 44 15:18 – 21 44; 90; 93 15:18 40 17 98

17:8 89 19 30; 35 20:14 38 26:25 172 28:22 45 34 23 34:2 89 36:2 89 48:22 23 49:5 – 6 23 Exod 3:8, 17 90; 157 12:48 – 49 98 13:5 90 14 VIII; 178 14:14 158 – 59 14:18 178 14:25 158 17:8 – 16 62 – 71; 93 17:11 – 13 126 18:8 – 12 70 19 – 24 117 21:12‒14 123 22:19 88; 93 22:20 VIII 23:4 – 5 82 23:19 174 23:20 – 33 95; 98; 100 23:23, 28 90 23:31 100 24 97 24:4 172 24:14 67 25 – 40 98; 109; 114; 119 28:40 – 43 174 28 177 29 114 32 – 34 121 32 97 33:2 90 34 94; 97; 101; 109; 115; 119 34:1 81 34:11 – 16 95 – 100 34:11 90 35 177 40 114

Index of sources

Lev 5:15 132 5:21 132 19 115 21:17 – 21 185 21:18 89 26:40 132 27:21 89; 101 27:28 89; 101; 125 27:29 89; 93 27:30 – 33 46; 174 Num 1 – 10 186 1 – 4 101 1 185 4 185 5:1 – 4 161; 185 5:6 – 7 132 6:13 – 21 174; 177 8:24 – 26 185 10 – 21 34; 42 10 187 10:1 – 10 162 – 65 10:8 188; 190 10:9 178 – 79; 188 12:20 73 13:22 43 13:29 90 14:45 93 15:32 – 36 VIII 18:13 174 18:14 89; 101 18:21 – 24 46 19:11‒14 128 20:14 – 21 70 20:17 – 20 78 21:1 – 3 94; 125 21:21 – 25 78; 82 25 97 25:1 – 5 98 25:1 118 25:7 – 8 173 28 – 29 114 31 46; 89; 102 31:48 179

Deut 1 – 11 117 1 – 3 34; 42; 117; 145; 158 1:7 89 1:8 74 1:15 179 1:19, 20 89 1:21 74 1:26 – 33 158 1:27 89 1:44 89 2:4 – 5 75 2:6 78 2:9 75 2:19 76 2:24 – 32 73 – 83 2:24 89 2:34 93 3:5 89 3:6 93 3:29 98 4:3 98 5:1 118 6:4 118 7 115 7:1 – 5 95 – 100 7:1 – 2 89; 91 7:1 90; 157 7:2 44; 51; 93 7:21 188 7:25 – 26 109; 129 – 31 7:26 93 9:4 – 5 90 10:1 – 5, 10 – 11 96 12 – 26 117 – 20 12 – 15 115 – 16 12:6 177 12:8 – 12 89 12:12 177 12:14 89 12:29 – 30 90 13:2 – 12 93 13:13 – 18 89; 129 – 31 13:16 – 18 44; 88; 93 14:22 – 23 46 16:18 – 20 120

195

196

Index of sources

16:21 – 17:7 116 17 110; 116; 120 17:2 – 5 131 17:8 – 13 120; 142 17:14 – 20 VIII; 116 18 – 23 115 – 16 18 120 18:12 90 19:1‒13 123; 142 19:1 120; 158 19:14 120 19:15 – 21 120; 142 20 VII–VIII; 110 – 11; 116 – 17; 120; 139 – 152 20:1 – 9 1; 6 – 13; 92; 145; 187 20:1 – 4 158 – 60; 161; 165; 178 20:1 VIII; 140; 142; 161; 188 20:2 – 4 139 – 40; 145; 149; 158 – 61; 165; 188 20:2 159; 188 20:2LXX 139 20:4 188 20:5 – 9 140 – 42; 159; 161; 176; 178; 186; 188 – 89 20:10 – 20 142 – 145; 157 – 59 20:10‒18 1 – 2; 15 – 18; 75 – 76; 80 – 81; 83; 148 20:10‒14 92; 125; 144; 147; 161 20:10 – 11 126 20:14 158 20:15 – 18 44; 92; 125; 142; 145; 147; 151 20:17 90; 93; 157 20:19‒20 1 – 2; 4 – 5; 18 – 19; 92; 125 21:1 – 9 1; 120; 128; 142 21:10 – 14 1; 13; 117; 139; 144 21:22 – 23 127 22:6 82 22:23‒29 127 23:1 – 3 2 23:2 – 9 97; 161 23:10 – 15 1 – 2; 92; 117; 139; 143 – 44; 161 – 62; 165; 186 23:10 187 23:15 165; 185 – 87 23:25 82 24:1 – 4 2 24:5 1; 139 – 40; 142 – 44 24:20 – 21 82

25:17 – 19 69 – 71 25:19 93 26:5 – 9 142 27 117 28 97 28:30 141 – 42 29:6 – 7 97 29:10 – 12 97 31 – 34 117 – 18 31:12 97 34:1 118 34:5 – 6 118 Josh 2:1 118 2:10 88; 93 3:1 118 3:10 90; 157 6 133 6:16‒17 126 6:17 – 21 VIII 6:17 88; 93; 125 6:18 88; 93 6:19 93; 125 6:21 88; 93; 126 6:27 126 7:1 88; 93; 130 7:4 – 5 126 7:11 132 7:12, 13, 15 88; 93 7:25 132 8:2 125; 127 8:23 127 8:24 – 26 125 – 27 8:26 88; 93 8:27 125 8:28 131 8:29 127 8:30 – 35 172 9 IX; 91; 96; 133; 146 – 47 9:1 – 2 126 9:1 90; 157 10 88 10:1 88; 93; 126 – 27 10:6 147 10:28, 35, 37, 39, 40 88; 93

Index of sources

11:1 – 15 88 11:1 – 5 126 11:3 90 11:11 88 11:12, 20, 21 88; 93 12:8 157 12:9 – 24 88 15:8 89 19:38 93 22:20 93 24 97 24:11 90; 157 Judg 1:1 – 2:5 95 1 91 1:17 93 2:1 – 5 98; 100 3:6 99 – 100 3:18 155 5:2, 9 186 6:36 – 40 175 7:1 – 7 159 7:3 140 19:10 – 11 89 20 – 21 151; 177 – 78 22:11 93 1 Sam 7 177 – 78 8 116; 120 12 116 13 104 15 93; 147 – 48; 151 30 36 – 37; 43 30:7 – 8 151; 175 2 Sam 2:1 151 5:19 175 8:2, 6 155 14:4‒11 123 18:1 179 1 Kgs 1:50‒53 123 2:28‒30 123

9:21 93 12:28 – 33 IX 17 – 19 149 20 148 – 51 20:2 – 3 150 20:13 149 – 50 20:23 30 20:42 93 21:27 – 29 149 22 149 2 Kgs 6:21 – 22 13:14 – 20 18:13 – 16 18:28 – 35 19 175 19:11 92 19:14‒19

151 151 150 150

172

Isa 2:2 – 5 103; 156 5:9 30 6:3 90 22:14 30 34:2, 14 102 37:11 92 37:14 – 21 172 40:10 37 43:28 93 51:4 – 5 103; 156 Jer 25:9 – 14 93 42:10 – 11 87 – 88 50:21 – 28 93 51:3 94 Ezek 11:14 – 25 87 14:13 132 15:8 132 17:20 132 20:27 132 26:2 – 3, 5, 14 102 28:18 – 19 37 39:23, 26 132

197

198

Index of sources

44:29 101 1 Chr 1 – 9 155 – 57 2 157 2:7 93 4:41 93 4:42 – 43 157 5:18 – 26 157 9:2 – 3 157 10:1 – 14 155 11:4 – 5 89 12:23LXX 161 14:17 163 15:28 163 16:8 – 36 155 – 56; 160 16:28 – 29 155 17:14 102 28:5 102

Jonah 1:9 43 Mic 4:1 – 5 156 4:13 102 Zech 14:9 102 Mal 3:24 102 Ps 1 116 2 165 2:1 – 2 157 18 37 29,1 – 2 156 34:15 82 – 83 37:3 82 46 165 46:7 – 10 103 48 165 79 102 96 155 96:7 – 8 156 105 155 106 155 Dan 11:44 92 Ezr 3:1 – 7 67 Neh 10:31 99 10:32 – 33, 35 – 37 10:38 – 39 47 10:40 101 13:4 – 9 99 13:23–27 99 13:25 100 13:28 99

101

2 Chr 13:2 – 18 159 – 60 13:3 164 13:8 – 12 162; 164 – 65 13:12 160; 163 14:2 161 14:7 – 14 159 14:8 164 14:9 – 11 162 14:10 160 14:12 161 14:13 163 17:10 163 17:11 155 20:1 – 30 103; 159 – 60; 162; 164; 187 20:15 160 20:19 165 20:23 92 20:28 163 – 64 20:29 163 20:37 161 23:17 161 24:23 – 24 164 – 65 25:5 185 31:1 161 31:2 161 31:5 – 12 47 32:14 92

Index of sources

32:22 – 23 156 – 57

34:4 161

Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha 1 Macc 1:47 172 1:49 172 1:56 172 2:7 – 13 177 2:23 – 26 172; 173; 177 2:45 172 3:16 – 24 104 3:38 – 4:25 169 3:46 177 3:48 170; 172; 175 – 77 3:49 – 50 173 3:54 174 – 75; 178 3:55 – 56 9 3:55 175

3:56 173; 176 4:8 – 11 178 4:46 176 14:41 176 Jub 13 47 – 49 13:22 32; 49 13:25 46; 49; 51 13:26 – 27 49 13:28 51 13:29 30; 51 34:1 – 9 24 37:1 – 38:14 24

Dead Sea Scrolls CD X 6 185 XV 15 – 17 185 1QapGen XXI 23–XXII 26 49 – 51; 52 XXI 23 32 XXII 17 46 XXII 20 – 23 30 1QM II–IX 188 – 90 VI 13 – 14 184 VII 1 – 7 183 – 86; 189 VII 10 – 12 190 IX 7 – 9 190 X–XIV 189 X 1 – 8 186 – 89 XII 187

XV–XVII 189 1QS I 7 186 V 1 186 1QSa II 3 – 9 185 4QDeutk2 frgs. 2 – 3:3 140 11Q19 (Temple Scroll) I–LXVI 110 – 11; 113 I 114 – 15; 119 II–XLVII 114 – 15 II 114 – 15; 119 XXIX 114 – 15 XLVIII–LXVI 114

199

200

Index of sources

XLVIII 7 – 8 115 LI–LIX 114 – 15 LI 6 – 10 115 LVI–LIX 110 – 12; 116; 120 LVII–LVIII 145

LVIII 18 – 21 175 LX–LXVI 114 – 15; 120 LXI–LXIII 110; 112; 116 LXII 2 – 4 140 LXIV 6 – 13 127

Philo Abr. 5 173

Josephus A.J. I 181 46

I 183 37

Rabbinic Literature Mishna Avot 3:17 80

Numbers Rabbah Hukkath, 27 82 – 83

Leviticus Rabbah 9:3 80

Deuteronomy Rabbah Devarim, 28 79 – 80 Shoftim, 13 81 – 82

Subject index Abraham 23 – 58; 70; 98; 156 Agag 147 age limits 183 – 85 Ahab 148 – 50 Ai 124 – 27; 131; 133; 147 allegorical interpretation 65 ally see coalition Amalek/ites 61 – 71; 93; 104; 147 – 48 Ammon/ites 75; 92 Amorites 15 – 16; 27; 34; 42 – 45; 47 – 48; 51; 73; 89 annihilation see ḥērem Antiochus IV 92; 104; 172 Aphek 148 Aram/aeans 148 – 51 ark of the covenant 133; 155 – 56; 163 Arnon 73 – 74; 77 Assyrians 78; 92; 127 – 28; 149 – 50 Asylum 120; 123 Babylonian period 67; 88; 125 – 26; 133 ban see ḥērem battle formation 189 Ben-Hadad 148; 150 book of the law 170 – 72; 175 – 77; 179 booty 15 – 16; 25 – 26; 30 – 31; 37 – 39; 41 – 48; 50 – 52; 92 – 93; 101; 125; 129 – 31; 142; 148; 169; 171; 183; 186 camp 1 – 2; 43; 67; 92; 101; 116; 120; 139; 143 – 44; 161 – 62; 169; 174; 184 – 87; 190 Canaan, indigenous inhabitants of 15 – 16; 44; 47; 51; 69 – 70; 73; 89 – 90; 93; 95 – 96; 125 – 26; 144 – 45; 150; 157 captives 1; 11; 13; 25; 36 – 37; 47; 51; 125; 128; 144 casuistic law 4; 6; 82; 142 – 43 coalition 39; 47 – 48; 52; 170; 173 conquest VIII; 42; 73; 76; 88 – 94; 97 – 98; 120; 126; 128; 133; 145; 147; 151; 157 – 58 conscription 184 – 85; 187 corpse defilement 127 – 28; 190

covenant 43 – 44; 50; 94; 96 – 98; 115; 148; 174; 178 Covenant Code 94; 98; 117; 121 Cyrus II 88 Damascus 33; 40; 78 David 36 – 37; 43; 155 – 56; 161; 163; 175; 179 defence war 158 – 61; 164 Deuteronomistic History 23; 62; 91; 128 – 29; 131 – 32; 139; 143; 145 – 52; 156; 160 Deuteronomistic literature 62; 66 – 67; 74; 83; 88 – 91; 93 – 96; 98; 121; 124 – 26; 128 – 29; 131 – 33; 142 – 43; 146 – 47; 149; 151 – 52; 157 didactic narrative 62; 71 disobedience VIII–IX; 81; 83; 129 divine military aid see YHWH as warrior Edom/ites 67 – 68; 70; 75; 78; 102 Elisha 150 – 51 Emmaus, battle of 169 – 79 ephod 175 eschatological war 156; 183; 186 exile 62; 87 – 88; 93; 97 – 98 Exodus VIII; 69; 158; 178 extrabiblical law VII; IX; 14; 42 – 43; 100; 123 – 24; 127 fear 7 – 9; 11 – 12; 70; 73; 140; 158 – 60; 178; 188 first fruits 48 – 49; 126; 129; 174 – 75; 177 foreign nations 70; 102; 115 – 16; 120; 155 – 57; 160; 162 – 65 Fortschreibung see redaction history Gibeon/ites 96; 126; 133; 146 – 47 Gideon 175 Hasmoneans 45; 116; 170 – 75; 177 – 79 ḥērem 1 – 2; 6; 14 – 15; 87 – 98; 101 – 3; 120; 125 – 27; 129 – 30; 133; 142 – 43; 145 – 48; 150 – 51 Hezekiah 93; 150; 160; 175

202

Subject index

High Priest 45; 99; 101; 159; 175 Holiness Code 115; 121; 124; 131

officers 7; 9; 10; 140; 145; 150; 159; 175; 183 – 84; 187 – 88

impalement 127 – 28 innerbibical midrash 76 – 78; 80; 83; 141; 147

peace 6; 15; 23; 74 – 76; 80 – 83; 92; 102 – 3; 125; 146 – 47 Persian period 40; 67 – 68; 88; 100 – 4; 124; 132 – 33 Philistines 62; 175 plunder see booty political interpretation 63 – 64; 66 – 69 prayer 62; 162; 173; 177; 183; 187 – 90 priesthood see priests Priestly literature 23; 34 – 36; 46; 52; 70; 79; 89 – 91; 94; 97 – 98; 101 – 2; 104; 121; 124; 128; 131 – 33; 140; 143 priests 6 – 9; 44 – 46; 48; 50; 64; 67 – 68; 70; 99; 101; 119 – 20; 133; 139; 145; 149; 158 – 60; 162 – 63; 174 – 75; 177 – 79; 185 – 90 prophet 66; 68; 120; 148 – 50; 160; 176 provisioning of troops 43; 50; 183 Ptolemies 102 – 3 purity 98; 101; 104; 114 – 16; 139; 161; 184 – 87; 190

Jehoshaphat 160; 163 Jericho 126; 129; 133; 146 – 47 Joram (king of Israel) 150 – 51 Jordan (river) 35; 38; 43; 73 – 77; 145 Joshua 61 – 62; 66 – 67; 70 – 71; 73; 76; 126 – 27; 132 – 33; 146 – 47 Josiah 91; 103; 124; 140; 160 Judah/Yehud 87 – 89; 99; 123; 128; 157; 163 Judas Maccabeus 169; 173 – 75; 178 – 79 Judas Priest 178 juridical dialogue 5; 8; 10; 14 – 19 just war 104; 150 Kedemoth 74; 79 – 81 kingship 115 – 16; 120; 159 – 60 Kittim 183; 189 Lachish 128 levites see priests Mari 92 Maccabean period 103 – 4 Melchizedek 44 – 46; 48 – 51 Mesha stele 92; 125 military practice (Jewish) 179; 185 military ranks 183 – 84; 187 mixed marriages 94 – 101 Mizpah 173 – 74; 177 – 78; 180 Moab/ites 74 – 75; 97; 110; 119 mobilization of troops 189 Moses 61 – 64; 66 – 70; 73 – 76; 78 – 81; 83; 126; 158; 179; 187 – 89 Mount Sinai see Sinai narrative reading 2 – 21 Nazirites 174 – 75; 177 Nebuchadnezzar 93 Neo-Assyrian period see Assyrians nomos see Torah non-monarchical society 66; 159

Rabshakeh 150; 175 Rahab 69 – 70; 96; 133 Ramoth-Gilead, battle of 149 redaction history IX; 81; 83; 91; 93; 101; 111; 115; 145; 151 – 52; 189 – 90 rewriting 24 – 25; 46; 48; 52; 109; 111; 116 – 20; 127; 130 Samaria 88 – 89; 97; 99; 124; 148; 150; 162 Samuel 62; 116; 147; 177 Saul 93; 147; 150 – 51; 155 Seleucids 40; 169 – 79 Sennacherib 128; 150; 156 – 57 Sihon 69; 73 – 82; 97 Sinai (Mount) 48; 82; 94; 109; 115; 117 – 19; 162 Sodom and Gomorrah 25 – 51 speech of encouragement 6 – 10; 139 – 41; 145; 148; 158; 160; 174; 178; 187 – 90 spoils see booty standards 189

Subject index

temple (Jerusalem) 68 – 69; 88 – 89; 91; 94; 102; 114 – 15; 155 – 57; 160 – 61; 164; 165; 170; 173 – 74; 177 terror of god 103; 163 tithe 44 – 46; 48 – 50; 52; 174 – 75; 177 Torah 44; 78 – 82; 87; 99; 101 – 4; 116; 119; 150; 169 – 72; 179 – 80 tribute 46; 49; 50; 155 – 56; 164 trumpets 133; 162 – 64; 175; 178 – 80; 187 – 90

203

Urim and Thummim 175 vassal treaties 39; 41; 43; 52; 129 volunteers 186 YHWH as warrior 8; 104; 156 – 60; 162 – 65; 173 – 80