Heinrich Schliemann and Arthur Evans damaged our understanding of the past

by

Damien F. Mackey

“Ultimately, regardless of the extent to which Heinrich Schliemann’s and

Arthur Evans’ actions can be exonerated, is clear that both men did intentionally deceive the world (and themselves) about the authenticity of their findings”.

Whitney White

Following on from my articles:

Schemin’ Heinrich Schliemann?

(3) Schemin’ Heinrich Schliemann? | Damien Mackey – Academia.edu

and (the six-part series):

Good heavens, Sir Arthur Evans!

beginning with:

(3) Good heavens, Sir Arthur Evans! | Damien Mackey – Academia.edu

(including a critique of Zahi Hawass), I came across an article by Whitney White, entitled: https://web.colby.edu/copiesfakesforgeries/files/2021/05/WHITE.pdf

Desire, Expectation, and the Forging of History:

A Reexamination of Heinrich Schliemann and Arthur Evans

 

Introduction

Heinrich Schliemann and Arthur Evans are two of the most well-known names in archaeology. Their excavations of Aegean civilizations in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries dramatically influenced our understanding of the Bronze Age world. Though there is overwhelming evidence that at least some of their findings were faked and forged to varying degrees, tourists still flock to view their discoveries and even the most contested objects remain included in art historical canon. This continued mainstream acceptance of Schliemann’s and Evans’ findings has meant that the two are rarely considered within the context of another part of the artworld that they certainly could be associated with: that of forgers. Though the study of art forgers is relatively limited, the existing scholarship has revealed that most forgers have a consistent profile and share similar motivations—which are at odds with those of these amateur archaeologists. The question that emerges, then, is how do Schliemann and Evans fit into our understanding of forgers? In this paper, I argue that, as it stands, the current definition of forgers is far too limited. By introducing psychological understandings of desire and expectation as a new framework for considering the motivations of forgers, our understanding of forgers can be expanded to include Schliemann and Evans and our definition of forgeries can be complicated to critically reexamine the contested objects associated with these men’s excavations. ….

Heinrich Schliemann was a hoaxer according to professor William Calder:

Behind the Mask of Agamemnon	Volume 52 Number 4, July/August 1999

IS THE MASK A HOAX?

For 25 years I have researched the life of Heinrich Schliemann. I have learned to be skeptical, particularly of the more dramatic events in Schliemann’s life: a White House reception; his heroic acts during the burning of San Francisco; his gaining American citizenship on July 4, 1850, in California; his portrayal of his wife, Sophia, as an enthusiastic archaeologist; the discovery of ancient Greek inscriptions in his backyard; the discovery of the bust of Cleopatra in a trench in Alexandria; his unearthing of an enormous cache of gold and silver objects at Troy, known as Priam’s Treasure.

Thanks to the research of archaeologist George Korres of the University of Athens, the German art historian Wolfgang Schindler, and historians of scholarship David A. Traill and myself, we know that Schliemann made up these stories, once universally accepted by uncritical biographers. These fictions cause me to wonder whether the Mask of Agamemnon might be a further hoax. Here are nine reasons to believe it may be:

….

For the professor’s “nine reasons”, refer to:

https://archive.archaeology.org/9907/etc/calder.html

Whitney White concludes the article with:

Desire-Driven Forgers

From these concise overviews, it is clear that while Schliemann and Evans intentionally altered their findings to varying degrees, neither fit the typical forger profile.

How, then, can we consider them within this context? It is useful here to explore the characteristic of their excavations that united them the most: each had a strong desire to prove a certain narrative about the past, coupled with the expectation that it was there to be proven. This desire-expectation combination can be used as framework to place these men into the context of art forgers and expand our understanding of forgers in general.

          Though psychological studies of desire are primarily dedicated to universal, tangible desires, like food and sex, and tend to explore issues related to self-control, the desire to know the past, as suggested by David Lowenthal, is also universal and compelling (Lowenthal 325), and can thus be viewed as functioning like other desires and studied in similar ways.

Strong desire, as described by Wilhelm Hofmann, often clouds our judgement and can lead us to act out of character (Hofmann 199).

This is especially true when we begin to overthink, as we find ways to justify the actions, however unsavory, we need to take to fulfill our desire (Hofmann 200). As educated men set out to prove a past they felt was (or should be) true, Schliemann and Evans would likely have overthought and justified their actions: in their minds, they were actually benefiting mankind (or at least, Europeans) by proving a past that they really wanted to exist; altering evidence here and there could thus be justified as a necessary means to give the world (and themselves) what it wanted.^[1] As Lowenthal explains, “we may be fully conscious, partially and hazily aware, or wholly unconscious of what prompts us to alter the past. Many such changes are unintended; other are undertaken to make a supposed legacy credible . . . The more strenuously we build a desired past, the more we convince ourselves that things really were that way; what ought to have happened becomes what did happen” (Lowenthal 326, emphasis added). The desire to change the past, even when intentional, can bring even those responsible for the changes—the forgers—to convince themselves of their own deceptions. While this, as Lowenthal agrees (Lowenthal 331), separates the desire-driven forger from the typical, revengedriven forger, the fact remains that all forgers nonetheless damage our understanding of the past through intentional deception. 

It should be noted that desire in this context is also closely tied to expectation. As described by David Huron, who studies the psychology of expectation in relation to music, expectations provoke strong emotional responses. When we successfully predict something we expect to happen, we are rewarded by our brains, and when we unsuccessfully predict something, we experience mental “punishments” (Huron 362). These psychological processes developed from a survival standpoint but can be used to explain behavior in many different contexts. Since Schliemann and Evans so clearly expected to find something that they desired,^[2] they perhaps felt the need to make their prediction true even more strongly (unconsciously or not) to avoid the double mental punishment of unfilled desire and incorrect expectation. While it has been established that both Schliemann and Evans were aware of their actions in altering the past at least to some extent, considering the psychology of expectation gives them some benefit of the doubt and further separates them from the typical forger. 

 

Conclusion 

Ultimately, regardless of the extent to which Heinrich Schliemann’s and Arthur Evans’ actions can be exonerated, is clear that both men did intentionally deceive the world (and themselves) about the authenticity of their findings. They thus can be tentatively classed as forgers, albeit of a different kind than are usually dealt with in the artworld. In any case, it is important to recognize that their forgeries, like all others, do indeed damage our understanding of the past. Expanding our understanding of forgers to include those who often slip under the radar because their intention to deceive, though present, is not as insidious, has a broader two-fold effect. First, it makes us more aware of the fact that forgers can exist and cause damage in multiple contexts.

Sir Arthur Evans

He may have been an inveterate racist, who fabricated a so-called “Minoan” civilisation.

See also my article:

Of Cretans and Phoenicians

(3) Of Cretans and Phoenicians | Damien Mackey – Academia.edu

Sir Arthur Evans, a tyrannical, dictatorial type, seems to have his like successor in the incompetent Zahi Hawass.

---

[1] Ilse Schoep argues that the fact that “Evans’ interpretations were largely accepted . . . suggests that his discovery, or rather, creation, of the Minoan civilization answered to a widely felt need in Europe” (Schoep 6). 

[2] In the words of Ilse Schoep, “Evans arrived at Knossos with a preconceived vision of, and agenda for, the Minoan civilization that he expected to discover” (Schoep 8). 

Heinrich Schliemann and Arthur Evans damaged our understanding of the past

by

Damien F. Mackey

“Ultimately, regardless of the extent to which Heinrich Schliemann’s and

Arthur Evans’ actions can be exonerated, is clear that both men did intentionally deceive the world (and themselves) about the authenticity of their findings”.

Whitney White

Following on from my articles:

Schemin’ Heinrich Schliemann?

(3) Schemin’ Heinrich Schliemann? | Damien Mackey – Academia.edu

and (the six-part series):

Good heavens, Sir Arthur Evans!

beginning with:

(3) Good heavens, Sir Arthur Evans! | Damien Mackey – Academia.edu

(including a critique of Zahi Hawass), I came across an article by Whitney White, entitled: https://web.colby.edu/copiesfakesforgeries/files/2021/05/WHITE.pdf

Desire, Expectation, and the Forging of History:

A Reexamination of Heinrich Schliemann and Arthur Evans

 

Introduction

Heinrich Schliemann and Arthur Evans are two of the most well-known names in archaeology. Their excavations of Aegean civilizations in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries dramatically influenced our understanding of the Bronze Age world. Though there is overwhelming evidence that at least some of their findings were faked and forged to varying degrees, tourists still flock to view their discoveries and even the most contested objects remain included in art historical canon. This continued mainstream acceptance of Schliemann’s and Evans’ findings has meant that the two are rarely considered within the context of another part of the artworld that they certainly could be associated with: that of forgers. Though the study of art forgers is relatively limited, the existing scholarship has revealed that most forgers have a consistent profile and share similar motivations—which are at odds with those of these amateur archaeologists. The question that emerges, then, is how do Schliemann and Evans fit into our understanding of forgers? In this paper, I argue that, as it stands, the current definition of forgers is far too limited. By introducing psychological understandings of desire and expectation as a new framework for considering the motivations of forgers, our understanding of forgers can be expanded to include Schliemann and Evans and our definition of forgeries can be complicated to critically reexamine the contested objects associated with these men’s excavations. ….

Heinrich Schliemann was a hoaxer according to professor William Calder:

Behind the Mask of Agamemnon	Volume 52 Number 4, July/August 1999

IS THE MASK A HOAX?

For 25 years I have researched the life of Heinrich Schliemann. I have learned to be skeptical, particularly of the more dramatic events in Schliemann’s life: a White House reception; his heroic acts during the burning of San Francisco; his gaining American citizenship on July 4, 1850, in California; his portrayal of his wife, Sophia, as an enthusiastic archaeologist; the discovery of ancient Greek inscriptions in his backyard; the discovery of the bust of Cleopatra in a trench in Alexandria; his unearthing of an enormous cache of gold and silver objects at Troy, known as Priam’s Treasure.

Thanks to the research of archaeologist George Korres of the University of Athens, the German art historian Wolfgang Schindler, and historians of scholarship David A. Traill and myself, we know that Schliemann made up these stories, once universally accepted by uncritical biographers. These fictions cause me to wonder whether the Mask of Agamemnon might be a further hoax. Here are nine reasons to believe it may be:

….

For the professor’s “nine reasons”, refer to:

https://archive.archaeology.org/9907/etc/calder.html

Whitney White concludes the article with:

Desire-Driven Forgers

From these concise overviews, it is clear that while Schliemann and Evans intentionally altered their findings to varying degrees, neither fit the typical forger profile.

How, then, can we consider them within this context? It is useful here to explore the characteristic of their excavations that united them the most: each had a strong desire to prove a certain narrative about the past, coupled with the expectation that it was there to be proven. This desire-expectation combination can be used as framework to place these men into the context of art forgers and expand our understanding of forgers in general.

          Though psychological studies of desire are primarily dedicated to universal, tangible desires, like food and sex, and tend to explore issues related to self-control, the desire to know the past, as suggested by David Lowenthal, is also universal and compelling (Lowenthal 325), and can thus be viewed as functioning like other desires and studied in similar ways.

Strong desire, as described by Wilhelm Hofmann, often clouds our judgement and can lead us to act out of character (Hofmann 199).

This is especially true when we begin to overthink, as we find ways to justify the actions, however unsavory, we need to take to fulfill our desire (Hofmann 200). As educated men set out to prove a past they felt was (or should be) true, Schliemann and Evans would likely have overthought and justified their actions: in their minds, they were actually benefiting mankind (or at least, Europeans) by proving a past that they really wanted to exist; altering evidence here and there could thus be justified as a necessary means to give the world (and themselves) what it wanted.^[1] As Lowenthal explains, “we may be fully conscious, partially and hazily aware, or wholly unconscious of what prompts us to alter the past. Many such changes are unintended; other are undertaken to make a supposed legacy credible . . . The more strenuously we build a desired past, the more we convince ourselves that things really were that way; what ought to have happened becomes what did happen” (Lowenthal 326, emphasis added). The desire to change the past, even when intentional, can bring even those responsible for the changes—the forgers—to convince themselves of their own deceptions. While this, as Lowenthal agrees (Lowenthal 331), separates the desire-driven forger from the typical, revengedriven forger, the fact remains that all forgers nonetheless damage our understanding of the past through intentional deception. 

It should be noted that desire in this context is also closely tied to expectation. As described by David Huron, who studies the psychology of expectation in relation to music, expectations provoke strong emotional responses. When we successfully predict something we expect to happen, we are rewarded by our brains, and when we unsuccessfully predict something, we experience mental “punishments” (Huron 362). These psychological processes developed from a survival standpoint but can be used to explain behavior in many different contexts. Since Schliemann and Evans so clearly expected to find something that they desired,^[2] they perhaps felt the need to make their prediction true even more strongly (unconsciously or not) to avoid the double mental punishment of unfilled desire and incorrect expectation. While it has been established that both Schliemann and Evans were aware of their actions in altering the past at least to some extent, considering the psychology of expectation gives them some benefit of the doubt and further separates them from the typical forger. 

 

Conclusion 

Ultimately, regardless of the extent to which Heinrich Schliemann’s and Arthur Evans’ actions can be exonerated, is clear that both men did intentionally deceive the world (and themselves) about the authenticity of their findings. They thus can be tentatively classed as forgers, albeit of a different kind than are usually dealt with in the artworld. In any case, it is important to recognize that their forgeries, like all others, do indeed damage our understanding of the past. Expanding our understanding of forgers to include those who often slip under the radar because their intention to deceive, though present, is not as insidious, has a broader two-fold effect. First, it makes us more aware of the fact that forgers can exist and cause damage in multiple contexts.

Sir Arthur Evans

He may have been an inveterate racist, who fabricated a so-called “Minoan” civilisation.

See also my article:

Of Cretans and Phoenicians

(3) Of Cretans and Phoenicians | Damien Mackey – Academia.edu

Sir Arthur Evans, a tyrannical, dictatorial type, seems to have his like successor in the incompetent Zahi Hawass.

---

[1] Ilse Schoep argues that the fact that “Evans’ interpretations were largely accepted . . . suggests that his discovery, or rather, creation, of the Minoan civilization answered to a widely felt need in Europe” (Schoep 6). 

[2] In the words of Ilse Schoep, “Evans arrived at Knossos with a preconceived vision of, and agenda for, the Minoan civilization that he expected to discover” (Schoep 8). 

Jotham’s Parable of Fig and Thorn

“A bramble, or thornbush, was a useless nuisance, the most worthless plant in

the Middle East.  It produces no fruit, and is too low to the ground to produce

any shade.  Its wood cannot be used for any kind of construction because it splits too easily.  It is good only as fuel for the fire.  And this was, of course,

the symbol of Abimelech”.

From the Old Testament: Jotham’s Parable. What does it mean?

From the Old Testament: Jotham’s Parable. What does it mean?

Posted on August 28, 2019 by admin

Whenever we think of parables in the Bible, we often only think of the parables spoken by Jesus and recorded in the New Testament.  However, to the surprise of some, there are also several parables in the Old Testament including Jotham’s parable in Judges 9 that sheds considerable light on past and future events in both testaments.

His name means “my father is king.”  And his father certainly lived like a king, but he refused to establish any form of dynasty in Israel for himself or his sons.  It is obvious that Abimelech thought his warrior hero father had made a mistake.  He was the son of Gideon by a concubine who lived with her father’s family in Shechem, and he undoubtedly was shunned by his half-brothers.  His father was an Israelite, but his mother was a Shechemite.

The story of Gideon’s success as a great warrior is riveting and a great testimony unto the Lord.  However, his epitaph is shadowed with disappointment.  He had missed a great opportunity to bring reform and revival to the land of Israel.  Instead of using the moment of his heroism to bring glory to God, he chose instead to profit himself.  It is thus recorded, “And it came to pass, as soon as Gideon was dead, that the children of Israel turned again, and went a whoring after Baalim, and made Baal-Berith their god.” (Judges 8:33)

Our story now unfolds.  It is interesting that in Judges 9-10, Gideon is always called Jerubbaal, never Gideon.

“And Abimelech the son of Jerubbaal went to Shechem unto his mother’s brethren, and communed with them, and with all the family of the house of his mother’s father, saying, Speak, I pray you, in the ears of all the men of Shechem, Whether is better for you, either that all the sons of Jerubbaal, which are threescore and ten persons, reign over you, or that one reign over you? remember also that I am your bone and your flesh.” (Judges 9:1-2)

His mother’s brothers pledged allegiance to Abimelech, and they gave him 70 pieces of silver from the house of Baal-Berith to finance a crusade against his 70 half-brothers.  In this act he made the public announcement that he had renounced the God of Israel for Baal.  With hired men he went to the house of Ophrah and slew all of Gideon’s sons except the youngest Jotham who hid himself in the slaughter. (verses 3-5)

“And all the men of Shechem gathered together, and all the house of Millo, and went, and made Abimelech king, by the plain of the pillar that was in Shechem.” (verse 6)

It is here that in his godlessness and selfish acts Abimelech defiled a place sacred in Jewish history.

Beth Millo translates “house of the fortress” and is the section of the upper classes.  The word “plain” is ‘elown’ or a “great tree or oak” and is undoubtedly the well-known sacred tree of Moreh (Genesis 12:6; 24:1-5; 35:4; Deut. 11:26-32; Josh 8:30-35; 24:25-26)

“And when they told it to Jotham, he went and stood in the top of mount Gerizim, and lifted up his voice, and cried, and said unto them, Hearken unto me, ye men of Shechem, that God may hearken unto you.” (verse 7)

Mount Gerizim was a place for blessings to be read (Deut. 27:12, 28), but Jotham’s speech was anything but a blessing.  He continues:

The Parable of the Trees

“The trees went forth on a time to anoint a king over them; and they said unto the olive tree, Reign thou over us.  But the olive tree said unto them, Should I leave my fatness, wherewith by me they honour God and man, and go to be promoted over the trees?

And the trees said to the fig tree, Come thou, and reign over us.  But the fig tree said unto them, Should I forsake my sweetness, and my good fruit, and go to be promoted over the trees?

Then said the trees unto the vine, Come thou, and reign over us.  And the vine said unto them, Should I leave my wine, which cheereth God and man, and go to be promoted over the trees?

(In each case, the trees refused the honor.  Each would have to sacrifice something in order to reign and they weren’t prepared to make that sacrifice.)

Then said all the trees unto the bramble, Come thou, and reign over us. And the bramble said unto the trees, If in truth ye anoint me king over you, then come and put your trust in my shadow: and if not, let fire come out of the bramble, and devour the cedars of Lebanon.”  (verses 8-14)

(A bramble, or thornbush, was a useless nuisance, the most worthless plant in the Middle East.  It produces no fruit, and is too low to the ground to produce any shade.  Its wood cannot be used for any kind of construction because it splits too easily.  It is good only as fuel for the fire.  And this was, of course, the symbol of Abimelech.)

It is known as the principle of “expositional constancy” whereby the Holy Spirit tends to use the same symbols consistently throughout Scripture.  As an example, remember that both Ezekiel 31 and Daniel 4 use trees to symbolize leaders or nations.  Last week’s blog cited the “parable of the fig tree.”   The Bible clearly uses all four of the trees to reference Israel.  How so?

The Parable of the Trees
Olive Tree	represents the Lineage or Genealogy of Israel
-produces valuable oil
Fig Tree	represents Political Israel
-produces sweet fruit
Vine	represents Spiritual Israel
-produces wine
Bramble	represents Satan’s empire/kingdom of darkness
-no fruit
-only good as fuel for the fire

Jotham had clearly made his point.  If you read chapters 9-10 Abimelech, the “bramble king” would be unable to protect the people and would cause judgment to come that would destroy those who trust in him.   After three conditional clauses, this was a prophecy and a curse.   In its fulfillment, both Abimelech and his followers would destroy one another (literally in verse 57) and leading to his ignominious death.

Jotham’s parable looks all the way back to Genesis where we are first introduced to thorns being a symbol of the “curse.”  In speaking to Adam after the Fall, God says, “Cursed is the ground because of you; through painful toil you will eat food from it all the days of your life. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field.” (Genesis 3:17b-18)

Thorns are a symbol of the “curse” and impending judgement.  Throughout the Middle East it is the Acacia bush which is known as “the thorn bush of the desert.”  And it is highly likely that this was the type of bush or bramble that Moses encountered at Mount Horeb.

“And the angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush: and he looked, and, behold, the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed.” (Exodus 3:2)

It was a burning bush that is not consumed.  It is a symbol of grace.  Why?

Acacia= “thorn bush of the desert”

Thorns= symbol of the curse

Fire= symbol of judgement

Even the writer of Hebrews reveals that thorns were viewed negatively in the ancient cultured and considered a curse.  “For land that has drunk the rain that often falls on it, and produces a crop useful to those for whose sake it is cultivated, receives a blessing from God. But if it bears thorns and thistles, it is worthless and near to being cursed, and its end is to be burned.” (Hebrews 6:7-8)

After being mocked, beaten and spat upon by the Roman soldiers, Jesus was crowned with thorns and this highlighted that His suffering and death were a curse. “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, ‘Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree.” (Hebrews 3:13)  When our Lord was crowned with a crown of thorns, His torturers unknowingly punished Him with a symbol fitting of the suffering Messiah.

Fortunately for us, Jesus rose from the dead and is gloriously revealed as the King and Savior of this world.  Thus, for all who believe, we are not bramble dedicated for destruction.  In fact, as Christians we are branches “grafted in” to the Olive Tree and bearing fruit for our Lord.  (Romans 11:17-24; Ephesians 2:11-13; 2:19; 3:6)

See also my (Damien Mackey’s) article:

Jesus Curses the Barren Fig Tree

(3) Jesus Curses the Barren Fig Tree | Damien Mackey – Academia.edu

Woman near Shechem crushes enemy’s head

by

Damien F. Mackey

“Next Abimelek went to Thebez and besieged it and captured it. Inside the city, however, was a strong tower, to which all the men and women—all the people of the city—had fled. They had locked themselves in and climbed up on the tower roof. Abimelek went to the tower and attacked it. But as he approached the entrance to the tower to set it on fire, a woman dropped an upper millstone on his head and cracked his skull”.

Judges 9:50-53

Account of Abimelech

Gideon’s illegitimate son, Abimelech (Abimelek), in killing the seventy sons of Gideon as his potential rivals to the rulership (see text below), was setting a precedent that the bloody Jehu of Israel would later follow, when he arranged for king Ahab’s seventy sons to be beheaded (2 Kings 10:1-11).

Judges 9:1-57  

Abimelek son of Jerub-Baal went to his mother’s brothers in Shechem and said to them and to all his mother’s clan, “Ask all the citizens of Shechem, ‘Which is better for you: to have all seventy of Jerub-Baal’s sons rule over you, or just one man?’ Remember, I am your flesh and blood’.”

When the brothers repeated all this to the citizens of Shechem, they were inclined to follow Abimelek, for they said, ‘He is related to us’. They gave him seventy shekels of silver from the temple of Baal-Berith, and Abimelek used it to hire reckless scoundrels, who became his followers. He went to his father’s home in Ophrah and on one stone murdered his seventy brothers, the sons of Jerub-Baal. But Jotham, the youngest son of Jerub-Baal, escaped by hiding. Then all the citizens of Shechem and Beth Millo gathered beside the great tree at the pillar in Shechem to crown Abimelek king.

When Jotham was told about this, he climbed up on the top of Mount Gerizim and shouted to them, “Listen to me, citizens of Shechem, so that God may listen to you. One day the trees went out to anoint a king for themselves. They said to the olive tree, ‘Be our king’. But the olive tree answered, ‘Should I give up my oil, by which both gods and humans are honored, to hold sway over the trees?’

“Next, the trees said to the fig tree, ‘Come and be our king.’

“But the fig tree replied, ‘Should I give up my fruit, so good and sweet, to hold sway over the trees?’

“Then the trees said to the vine, ‘Come and be our king.’

“But the vine answered, ‘Should I give up my wine, which cheers both gods and humans, to hold sway over the trees?’

“Finally all the trees said to the thornbush, ‘Come and be our king.’

“The thornbush said to the trees, ‘If you really want to anoint me king over you, come and take refuge in my shade; but if not, then let fire come out of the thornbush and consume the cedars of Lebanon!’

“Have you acted honorably and in good faith by making Abimelek king? Have you been fair to Jerub-Baal and his family? Have you treated him as he deserves?  Remember that my father fought for you and risked his life to rescue you from the hand of Midian. But today you have revolted against my father’s family. You have murdered his seventy sons on a single stone and have made Abimelek, the son of his female slave, king over the citizens of Shechem because he is related to you. So have you acted honorably and in good faith toward Jerub-Baal and his family today? If you have, may Abimelek be your joy, and may you be his, too! But if you have not, let fire come out from Abimelek and consume you, the citizens of Shechem and Beth Millo, and let fire come out from you, the citizens of Shechem and Beth Millo, and consume Abimelek!”

For an account of Jotham’s tree imagery, see:

Jotham’s Parable of Fig and Thorn

(5) Jotham’s Parable of Fig and Thorn | Damien Mackey – Academia.edu

Then Jotham fled, escaping to Beer, and he lived there because he was afraid of his brother Abimelek.

After Abimelek had governed Israel three years, God stirred up animosity between Abimelek and the citizens of Shechem so that they acted treacherously against Abimelek. God did this in order that the crime against Jerub-Baal’s seventy sons, the shedding of their blood, might be avenged on their brother Abimelek and on the citizens of Shechem, who had helped him murder his brothers. In opposition to him these citizens of Shechem set men on the hilltops to ambush and rob everyone who passed by, and this was reported to Abimelek.

Now Gaal son of Ebed moved with his clan into Shechem, and its citizens put their confidence in him. After they had gone out into the fields and gathered the grapes and trodden them, they held a festival in the temple of their god. While they were eating and drinking, they cursed Abimelek. Then Gaal son of Ebed said, ‘Who is Abimelek, and why should we Shechemites be subject to him? Isn’t he Jerub-Baal’s son, and isn’t Zebul his deputy? Serve the family of Hamor, Shechem’s father! Why should we serve Abimelek? If only this people were under my command! Then I would get rid of him. I would say to Abimelek, ‘Call out your whole army!’”

When Zebul the governor of the city heard what Gaal son of Ebed said, he was very angry. Under cover he sent messengers to Abimelek, saying, ‘Gaal son of Ebed and his clan have come to Shechem and are stirring up the city against you. Now then, during the night you and your men should come and lie in wait in the fields. In the morning at sunrise, advance against the city. When Gaal and his men come out against you, seize the opportunity to attack them’.

So Abimelek and all his troops set out by night and took up concealed positions near Shechem in four companies. Now Gaal son of Ebed had gone out and was standing at the entrance of the city gate just as Abimelek and his troops came out from their hiding place.

When Gaal saw them, he said to Zebul, ‘Look, people are coming down from the tops of the mountains!’

Zebul replied, ‘You mistake the shadows of the mountains for men’.

But Gaal spoke up again: ‘Look, people are coming down from the central hill, and a company is coming from the direction of the diviners’ tree’.

Then Zebul said to him, “Where is your big talk now, you who said, ‘Who is Abimelek that we should be subject to him?’ Aren’t these the men you ridiculed? Go out and fight them!”

So Gaal led out the citizens of Shechem and fought Abimelek. Abimelek chased him all the way to the entrance of the gate, and many were killed as they fled. Then Abimelek stayed in Arumah, and Zebul drove Gaal and his clan out of Shechem.

The next day the people of Shechem went out to the fields, and this was reported to Abimelek. So he took his men, divided them into three companies and set an ambush in the fields. When he saw the people coming out of the city, he rose to attack them. Abimelek and the companies with him rushed forward to a position at the entrance of the city gate. Then two companies attacked those in the fields and struck them down. All that day Abimelek pressed his attack against the city until he had captured it and killed its people. Then he destroyed the city and scattered salt over it.

On hearing this, the citizens in the tower of Shechem went into the stronghold of the temple of El-Berith. When Abimelek heard that they had assembled there, he and all his men went up Mount Zalmon. He took an ax and cut off some branches, which he lifted to his shoulders. He ordered the men with him, ‘Quick! Do what you have seen me do!’ So all the men cut branches and followed Abimelek.

They piled them against the stronghold and set it on fire with the people still inside. So all the people in the tower of Shechem, about a thousand men and women, also died.

Next Abimelek went to Thebez and besieged it and captured it. Inside the city, however, was a strong tower, to which all the men and women—all the people of the city—had fled.

They had locked themselves in and climbed up on the tower roof. Abimelek went to the tower and attacked it. But as he approached the entrance to the tower to set it on fire, a woman dropped an upper millstone on his head and cracked his skull.

Hurriedly he called to his armor-bearer, “Draw your sword and kill me, so that they can’t say, ‘A woman killed him.’” So his servant ran him through, and he died. When the Israelites saw that Abimelek was dead, they went home.

Thus God repaid the wickedness that Abimelek had done to his father by murdering his seventy brothers. God also made the people of Shechem pay for all their wickedness. The curse of Jotham son of Jerub-Baal came on them.

Afterthe death of Gideon his son Abimelech asserted authority in the land and ruled from Shechem, reigning for 3 years until his death.

“MB IIC at Shechem was a major destruction,

so almost certainly it was the city of Abimelech”.

Dr. John Osgood

SHECHEM OF ABIMELECH

Back in 1980’s, I, then following a pattern of biblical archaeology different from the one that I would embrace today, had raised with Dr. John Osgood this query about the city of Shechem in its relation to the Joshuan Conquest:

Click to access j03_1_124-127.pdf

“Techlets”, EN Tech. J., vol. 3, 1988, pp. 125-126:

…. I think too that Shechem might be a problem in your scheme of things. From the Bible it would seem that Shechem was a small settlement at the time of Abraham, but a city at the time of Jacob. It seems to me that according to your scheme Shechem would be the same size in Jacob’s time as in Abraham’s.

Correct me if I am wrong. Also Prof. Stiebing, who has criticised at various times the schemes of allrevisionists (see Biblical Archaeological Review,July/August 1985, pp. 58-69), raises the problem of the absence of LBA remains at Samaria as regards theEBA Conquest Reconstruction.

Looking back now on Dr. Osgood’s reply to this, his view on Shechem, at least, makes perfect sense to me. He seems to have arrived at a proper overview of the archaeology of Shechem, from Abraham to Jeroboam I (and beyond).

Here, again, is what Dr. Osgood wrote about it:

Shechem: This is no problem to the revised chronology presented here, since the passage concerning Abraham and Shechem, viz. Genesis 12:6, does not indicate that a city of any consequence was then present there.

On the other hand, Jacob’s contact makes it clear that there was a significant city present later (Genesis 33 and 34), but only one which was able to be overwhelmed by a small party of Jacob’s sons who took it by surprise.

I would date any evidence of civilisation at these times to the late Chalcolithic in Abraham’s case, and to EB I in Jacob’s case, the latter being the most significant.

The Bible is silent about Shechem until the Israelite conquest, after which it is apparent that it developed a significant population until the destruction of the city in the days of Abimelech. If the scriptural silence is significant, then no evidence of occupation would be present after EB I until MB I and no significant building would occur until the MB IIC.

Shechem was rebuilt by Jeroboam I, and continued thereafter until the Assyrian captivity.

Moreover, Shechem was almost certainly the Bethel of Jeroboam, during the divided kingdom. So I would expect heavy activity during the majority of LB and all of Iron I.

This is precisely the findings at Shechem, with the exception that the earliest periods have not had sufficient area excavated to give precise details about the Chalcolithic and EB I. No buildings have yet been brought to light from these periods, but these periods are clearly represented at Shechem.

MB IIC at Shechem was a major destruction, so almost certainly it was the city of Abimelech. The population’s allegiance to Hamor and Shechem could easily be explained by a return of descendants of the Shechem captives taken by Jacob’s son, now returned after the Exodus nostalgically to Shechem, rather than by a continuation of the population through intervening periods (see Judges 9:28, Genesis 34).

For Jeroboam’s city and after, the numerous LB and Iron I strata are a sufficient testimony (see Biblical Archaeology, XX, XXVI and XXXII). ….

[End of quote]

The city of Shechem, which has already figured prominently in this book, will become of most vital significance when, in the era of king Hezekiah of Judah (c. C8th BC, conventional dating), I proceed to discuss the opposing kings, Hezekiah and Sennacherib, and Israel’s famous defeat of the 185,000-strong Assyrian army.

A combination of Dr. Osgood’s identification of Shechem with the northern Bethel, and Charles C. Torrey’s early identification of Shechem as the strategic town of “Bethulia”, which was Judith’s city, has enabled me to bring a full biblico-historical perspective to both the Book of Judith and the Assyrian incident.

[Jan] Simons thinks that the reference in the Vulgate to the Assyrians coming

at this stage to “the Idumæans into the land of Gabaa” (Judith 3:14) should more appropriately be rendered “the Judæans … Gabaa”. Gabaa would then correspond to the Geba of the Septuagint in the Esdraelon (Jezreel) plain.

Let us follow the march of the Assyrian commander-in chief through the eyes of Charles C. Torrey, in his article “The Site of Bethulia” (JSTOR, Vol. 20, 1899), beginning on p. 161:

When the army of Holofernes reached the Great Plain of Jezreel, in its march southward, it halted there for a month (iii. 9 f.) at the entrance to the hill country of the Jews. According to iii. 10, “Holofernes pitched between Geba and Scythopolis.” This statement is not without its difficulties. We should perhaps have expected the name Genin, where the road from the Great Plain enters the hills, instead of Geba. The latter name is very well attested, however, having the support of most Greek manuscripts and of all the versions. The only place of this name known to us, in this region, is the village Geba (Gěba‘) … a few miles north of Samaria, directly in the line of march taken by Holophernes [Holofernes] and his army, at the point where the road to Shechem branches. It is situated just above a broad and fertile valley where there is a fine large spring of water. There would seem to be every reason, therefore, for regarding this as the Geba of Judith iii. 10; as is done, for example, by Conder in the Survey of Western Palestine, Memoirs, ii, p. 156, and by G. A. Smith, Historical Geography of the Holy Land, p. 356. There is nothing in the sequel of the story to disagree with this conclusion. According to the narrator, the vast ‘Assyrian’ army, at the time of this ominous halt, extended all the way from Scythopolis through the Great Plain to Genin, and along the broad caravan track … southward as far as Geba.

Torrey will proceed to make excellent sense of the geography of this impressive (but ill-fated) Assyrian campaign.

Jan Simons (The Geographical and Topographical Texts of the Old Testament, E. J. Brill, Leiden, 1959) will later do a reasonable job of accounting for the earlier part of the Assyrian campaign, from its leaving from the city of Nineveh until its arrival at the plain of Esdraelon – the phase of the campaign that Torrey will dismiss as “mere literary adornment” (on p. 160):

With regard to a part of these details, especially those having to do with countries or places outside of Palestine, it can be said at once that they are mere literary adornment, and are not to be taken seriously. Such for example are the particulars regarding Nebuchadnezzar’s … journey westward ….

I quoted Simons, for instance, in Volume Two, pp. 49-51 of my university thesis:

A Revised History of the Era of King Hezekiah of Judah

and its Background

AMAIC_Final_Thesis_2009.pdf

Commentators have not found it easy to unravel geographically, in its various stages, the [Book of Judith] narrative of the Assyrian army’s march westwards (2:19-3:9). A difficulty is that the account of its route, from Nineveh to its eventual arrival in northern Israel, varies from version to version. …. Nevertheless, Simons has made quite a good attempt to unravel [Book of Judith’s] geography here. He begins with the Assyrian army’s departure, from Nineveh: ….

a) v. 21: after mentioning NINEVE [Nineveh] as Holofernes’ starting-point this verse deals with the first stage of the expedition, i.e. a “three days march” which brings the army to the border of the enemy country, viz. to “the plain of Bectileth”, which was apparently the site of a base-camp close to the general area of military operations (similar to the camp on the plain (of) Esdrelon [Esdraelon] … before the final stage of these operations: iii 10);

b) v. 22 relates the opening proper of the military operations, viz. by saying that the army leaves the base-camp on the plain and moves up the mountain-land εἰςεἰς τὴν ὀρεινήν

ὀρεινήν

c) V. 27: (from this mountain-land) the army “descends into the plain of DAMASCUS”, the territory first to suffer;

d) V. 28: the chastisement of the land of DAMASCUS causes a panic in the “coastland” (παραλία) from where several cities mentioned by name send ambassadors to offer submission (iii 1 ff.).

As regards the cartographic interpretation of this part of the expedition preceding that attack on Judaea … itself we submit the following remarks:

Independently of every hypothesis or reconstruction of Holofernes’ expedition it appears that the transmitted text does not mention Cilicia … (v. 21) as its objective or partial goal.

Moreover, “Upper Cilicia” as an indication of the location of “the plain Bectileth” (“Bectileth near the mountain which lies to the left – north – of Upper Cilicia” or Cilicia above the Taurus Mountains) is completely out of the way which starts at NINEVE and is directed towards Syria-Palestine.

We suspect, therefore, that τῆς ἄνω Κιλικίας has been inserted (perhaps in replacement of some another original reading) in order to adjust the account of the campaign to the terms of I 7 and I 12.

Secondly, “the plain of Bectileth” mentioned as the terminus of the first stage of Holofernes’ advance seems to us simply the Syrian beqã‘ … between Libanos and Antilibanos … mentioned in I 7.

Holofernes’ base-camp was not in the centre of the plain (“ἀπὸ Βεκτιλὲθ” must have developed from or be the remaining part of a statement to this effect) but “near the mountains on the left (north) side”, in other words: at the foot of the Antilibanos … (cp. Its modern name “gebel esh-sherqi”: …).

It is this mountain-ridge (ὀρεινή) which the army has to climb (v.22) before “sweeping down (κατέβη) on the plain of DAMASCUS” (V. 27).

In the third place the text names (v. 28) the coastal towns, where the fate of DAMASCUS raises a panic. Most of these names create no problems:

SIDON = saidã

TYRUS = sûr

JEMNAA = Jamnia ….

AZOTUS = isdûd ….

ASCALON = ‘asqalãn ….

Some mss. add: GAZA = ghazzeh.

Though Simons does not specify here to which particular ‘mss.’ he is referring, Moore tells us that “LXXs, OL, and Syr add “and Gaza”.” …. Simons continues:

The remaining two are obscure. OCINA seems to have been somewhere between TYRUS and JEMNAA and is for this reason usually identified with ‘ACCO = ‘akkã ….  which neither because of the name itself nor on the ground of its location … can be reasonably considered to render Hebrew “DOR” … is probably but a duplicate of TYRUS (cp. Hebr: SOR). It is possible that the distinction between the island-city and the settlement on the mainland (Palaetyrus) accounts for the duplication.

[End of quotes]

Further down p. 51, and continuing on to p. 52, I wrote – again making reference to Simons:

The next crucial stopping point of the Assyrian army after its raids on the region of Damascus will effectively be its last: “Then [Holofernes] came toward Esdraelon, near Dothan, facing the great ridge of Judea; he camped between Geba and Scythopolis, and remained for a whole month in order to collect all the supplies for his army” (v. 9).

Simons thinks that the reference in the Vulgate to the Assyrians coming at this stage to “the Idumæans into the land of Gabaa” (3:14) should more appropriately be rendered “the Judæans … Gabaa”. …. Gabaa would then correspond to the Geba of the Septuagint in the Esdraelon (Jezreel) plain. (It has of course no connection at all with the ‘Geba’ discussed on p. 6 of the previous chapter, which was just to the north of Jerusalem). Judah’s reabsorbing of this northern region (Esdraelon) into its kingdom would have greatly annoyed Sennacherib, who had previously spoken of “the wide province of Judah” (rapshu nagû (matu) Ya-û-di). …. Naturally the Israelites would have been anticipating (from what Joel called the “northern army”) a first assault in the north. And that this was so is clear from the fact that the leaders in Jerusalem had ordered the people to seize the mountain defiles in Samaria as well as those in Judah ([Book of Judith] 4:1-2; 4-5):

When the Israelites living in Judea heard how Holofernes, general-in-chief of Nebuchadnezzar king of the Assyrians, had treated the various nations, first plundering their temples and then destroying them, they were thoroughly alarmed at his approach and trembled for Jerusalem and the Temple of the Lord their God. … They therefore alerted the whole of Samaria, Kona, Beth-horon, Belmain, Jericho, Choba, Aesora and the Salem valley.

They occupied the summits of the highest mountains and fortified the villages on them; they laid in supplies for the coming war, as the fields had just been harvested.

Here we encounter that “Salem valley” region that I believe was, rather than Jerusalem, the location of the great Melchizedek.

I continue now with Charles Torrey’s article, where he has just noted the crucial strategic importance of Bethulia (p. 162):

This city could ‘hold the pass‘ through which it was necessary that Holofernes, having once chosen this southward route, should lead his army in order to invade Judea and attack Jerusalem. This is plainly stated in iv. 7: …. “And Joachim wrote, charging them to hold the pass of the hill-country; for through it was the entrance into Judea, and it would be easy to stop them as they came up, because the approach was narrow”.When the people of Betylūa comply with the request of the high priest and the elders of Jerusalem, and hold the pass. (iv. 8), they do so simply by remaining in their own city, prepared to resist the approach of Holofernes. So long as they continue stubborn, and refuse to surrender or to let the enemy pass, so long their purpose is accomplished, and Jerusalem and the sanctuary are safe. This is made as plain as possible in all the latter part of the book; see especially viii, 21 ff., where Judith is indignantly opposing the counsel of the chief men of the city to surrender: “For if we be taken, all Judea will be taken … and our sanctuary will be spoiled; and of our blood will he require its profanation. And the slaughter of our brethren, and the captivity of the land, and the desolation of our inheritance, will he turn upon our heads among the nations wheresoever we shall be in bondage. And we shall be an offence and a reproach in the eyes of those who have taken us captive …. Let us show an example to our brethren, because their lives hang upon us, and upon us rest the sanctuary and the house and the altar.”

That is, the city which the writer of this story had in mind lay directly in the path of Holofernes, at the head of the most important pass in the region, through which he must necessarily lead his army. There is no escape from this conclusion.

After making this emphatic statement, Torrey will refer to two other sites “which have been most frequently thought of as possible sites of the city, Sanur and Mithiliyeh” (see below).

The latter of these, Mithiliyeh, or Mithilia, was my own choice for Judith’s Bethulia – following Claude Reignier Conder – when writing my thesis, but it was based more on a romantic view of things rather than on any solid military strategy – though the name fit had seemed to be quite solid. Thus I wrote (pp. 70-71):

Conder identified this Misilya – he calls it Mithilia (or Meselieh) – as Bethulia itself:[1]

… Meselieh … A small village, with a detached portion to the north, and placed on a slope, with a hill to the south, and surrounded by good olive-groves, with an open valley called Wâdy el Melek (“the King’s Valley’) on the north. The water-supply is from wells, some of which have an ancient appearance. They are mainly supplied with rain-water.

In 1876 I proposed to identify the village of Meselieh, or Mithilia, south of Jenin, with the Bethulia of the Book of Judith, supposing the substitution of M for B, of which there are occasional instances in Syrian nomenclature. The indications of the site given in the Apocrypha are tolerably distinct. Bethulia stood on a hill, but not apparently on the top, which is mentioned separately (Judith vi. 12).

There were springs or wells beneath the town (verse 11), and the houses were above these (verse 13).

The city stood in the hill-country not far from the plain (verse 11), and apparently near Dothan (Judith iv. 6). The army of Holofernes was visible when encamped near Dothan (Judith vii. 3, 4), by the spring in the valley near Bethulia (verses 3-7). ‘The site usually supposed to represent Bethulia – namely, the strong village of Sanûr – does not fulfil these various requisites; but the topography of the Book of Judith, as a whole, is so consistent and easily understood, that it seems that Bethulia was an actual site’.

Visiting Mithilia on our way to Shechem … we found a small ruinous village on the slope of the hill. Beneath it are ancient wells, and above it a rounded hill-top, commanding a tolerably extensive view. The north-east part of the great plain, Gilboa, Tabor, and Nazareth, are clearly seen. West of these are neighbouring hillsides Jenin and Wâdy Bel’ameh (the Belmaim, probably of the narrative); but further west Carmel appears behind the ridge of Sheikh Iskander, and part of the plain of ‘Arrabeh, close to Dothan, is seen. A broad corn-vale, called “The King’s Valley”, extends north-west from Meselieh toward Dothan, a distance of only 3 miles.

There is a low shed formed by rising ground between two hills, separating this valley from the Dothain [Dothan] plain; and at the latter site is the spring beside which, probably, the Assyrian army is supposed by the old Jewish novelist to have encamped. In imagination one might see the stately Judith walking through the down-trodden corn-fields and shady olive-groves, while on the rugged hillside above the men of the city “looked after her until she was gone down the mountain, and till she had passed the valley, and could see her no more”. (Judith x 10) – C. R. C., ‘Quarterly Statement’, July, 1881.

[End of quotes]

But Torrey tells us why neither Mithilia, nor Sanur, would even have figured in the march of Holofernes (p. 163):

This absolutely excludes the two places which have been most frequently thought of as possible sites of the city, Sanur and Mithiliyeh, both midway between Geba and Genin. Sanur, though a natural fortress, is perched on a hill west of the road, and “guards no pass whatever” (Robinson, Biblical Researches, iii. 152 f.). As for Mithiliyeh, first suggested by Conder in 1876 (see Survey of Western Palestine, ‘Memoirs’, ii. 156 f.), it is even less entitled to consideration, for it lies nearly two miles east of the caravan track; guarding no pass, and of little or no strategic importance. Evidently, the attitude, hostile or friendly, of this remote village would be a matter of indifference to a great invading army on its way to attack Jerusalem. Its inhabitants, while simply defending themselves at home, certainly could not have held the fate of Judea in their hands; nor could it ever have occurred to the writer of such a story as this to represent them as doing so.

He the proceeds to contrast the inappropriateness of these sites with the significant Shechem:

Again, having once accepted the plain statement of the writer that the army during its halt extended from Scythopolis to Geba, there is the obvious objection to each and all of the places in this region which have been suggested as possible sites of Betylūa (see those recorded in G. A. Smith, /. c, p. 356, note 2; Buhl, Geographie des alien Paldstina, p. 201, note), that they are all north of Geba.

From the sequel of the story we should be led to look for the pass occupied by Betylūa at some place on the main road not yet reached by the army. It is plainly not the representation of the writer that a part of the host of Holofernes had already passed it.

And finally, Betylūa is unquestionably represented as a large and important city. This fact is especially perplexing, in view of the total absence of any other mention of it. Outside of this one story the name is entirely unknown. On the other hand, nothing can be more certain than that the author of the book of Judith had an actual city in mind when he wrote. Modern scholars are generally agreed in this conclusion, that whatever may be said of the historical character of the narrative, the description of Betylūa and the surrounding country is not a fiction.

Shechem, he says, “meets exactly the essential requirements of the story” – it and no other site in the entire area (p. 164):

… no other city between Jezreel and Jerusalem can compete with [Shechem] for a moment in this respect. When the advance guard of Holofernes’ army halted in the broad valley below Geba, it was within four hours’ march of the most important pass in all Palestine, namely that between Ebal and Gerizim. Moreover, this was the one pass through which the army would now be compelled to proceed, after it had once turned westward at Bethshan and chosen the route southward through Genin. We see now why the narrator makes Holofernes encamp “between Scythopolis and Geba.” It is a good illustration of the skill which he displays in telling this story. Having advanced so far as this, it was too late for the ‘Assyrians’ to choose another road. As for the city Shechem, which was planted squarely in the middle of the narrow valley at the summit of the pass … its attitude toward the invaders would be a matter of no small importance.

As to why Shechem might be called “Bethulia” in the Book of Judith, the explanation may be in the following statement by Dr. John Osgood: “W. Ross in Palestine Exploration Quarterly (1941), p. 22–27 reasoned, I believe correctly, that the Bethel of Jeroboam must be Shechem, since it alone fills the requirements”. https://creation.com/techlets 

Both the unidentified woman of Judges 9, and Judith, will slay a male foe, attacking the enemy’s head, in the environs of Shechem.

God also made the people of Shechem pay for all their wickedness. 

The curse of Jotham son of Jerub-Baal came on them.

Judges 9:56-57

‘Woe to the nations that rise up against my people!
    The Lord Almighty will take vengeance on them in the day of judgment;
he will send fire and worms into their flesh;
    they shall weep in pain forever’.

Judith 16:17

And I will put enmity
    between you and the woman,
    and between your offspring and hers;
she will crush your head,
    and you will strike her heel.

Genesis 3:15

---

[1] Survey of Western Palestine, vol. II, pp. 156-157. Emphasis added.

Deborah and Gideon contemporary Judges?

Did Deborah and Gideon Judge Together?

They were contemporaneous according to:

https://www.bible.ca/archeology/bible-archeology-exodus-route-date-chronology-of-judges.htm

1. We can prove that Deborah and Gideon judged at the same time. After each Judge the narrative tells us there were two periods of 40 years where the land had rest. Most view these as two different sets of 40 years which they add up to 80 chronological years. However, these two periods of 40 years of rest are in fact the same period and amount to a total of only 40 chronological years. Therefore, we match the 40 years of rest of Gideon (8:28) with the 40 years of rest of Deborah (5:31) and it creates a close harmony with the 300 years of Jephthah in Judges 11:26.

1. By lining up the two 40 years of peace, we very nicely splice the end of “indivisible unit 1”, with the beginning of “indivisible unit 2”.
2. This shows us that Israel was being oppressed in the north by the Canaanites at the same time the Midianites were crossing the Jordan and raiding the crops of central Israel, then returning Transjordan.
3. Deborah’s battle was at Mt. Tabor and involved 10,000 men from the tribes of Naphtali and Zebulun: “the God of Israel, has commanded, ‘Go and march to Mount Tabor, and take with you ten thousand men from the sons of Naphtali and from the sons of Zebulun.” Judges 4:6.

2. Gideon’s battle started in the valley of Jezreel, then moved Transjordan far east of the Jordan and involved a specialized army of 300 from Manasseh, Asher, Zebulun, and Naphtali: “the Midianites and Amalekites and the sons of the east … camped in the valley of Jezreel. … Gideon … called together to follow him: Manasseh, Asher, Zebulun, and Naphtali, and they came up to meet them.” Judges 6:33-35.
3. The critical link between Deborah and Gideon is in the tribes who fought and the tribes who refused to fight. Deborah started judging 13 years before Gideon and chastised the region of Gilead, and the tribes of Dan and Asher because they would not join in the battle: “Gilead remained across the Jordan; And why did Dan stay in ships? Asher sat at the seashore, And remained by its landings.” Judges 5:17. She praises Zebulun and Naphtali for joining the battle: “”Zebulun was a people who despised their lives even to death, And Naphtali also, on the high places of the field.” Judges 5:18
4. When Gideon (from the tribe of Manasseh) started judging 13 years later, the same tribes fight and the same tribes refused! Gideon comes to two towns in Gilead (‍Succoth and Penuel) and asks the leaders for food to feed his army of 300 and they both refuse. (8:5-8) Gilead had previously refused Deborah’s request for help at Mt. Tabor: “Gilead remained across the Jordan” Judges 5:17. So this was the second time Gilead had refused to fight for their brethren. After Gideon destroys Midian, he returns and destroys the town leaders of Gilead (‍Succoth and Penuel). A kind of “two strikes and you’re out” policy with God. Later Gilead would redeem themselves under Jephthah, who himself was a Gileadite who saved themselves from the Ammonite oppression. Perhaps still not that noble, since they were merely defending their own home turf from the invasion of the king of Ammon. Good thing the Gileadites had no French genes in them, or else they would have just surrounded to the Ammonites and expected the other tribes to liberate an fight for them!
5. So we can prove that Deborah and Gideon Judged at the same time because the same two tribes (Zebulun and Naphtali) willingly supplied valiant warriors and the Gilead refused both of them to fight. This is an enormous key to unlocking the chronology of Judges!
6. Since Deborah and Gideon judged at the same time, then the 40 years of peace that followed both are identical and should be laid upon one another in chronological terms because they are concurrent.

Judge Shamgar could be Samson but not Shammah

by

Damien F. Mackey

“History doesn’t repeat itself but it often rhymes”.

Mark Twain

Two things, people, places, historical events, can be alike but not the same as.

 “History doesn’t repeat itself but it often rhymes,” (Mark Twain).

Thus World War I was like in many ways, but not the same as, World War II.

An archaeologist in 1500 years time might have great difficulty distinguishing the two, especially if a nuclear war has intervened (which is now almost inevitable) to destroy much of what was on earth.

David and Elhanan, both of whom struck down a Philistine giant, are like in some regards, but cannot be the same person.

Though some would argue that David was Elhanan.

Judge Shamgar is like Samson, but also somewhat like David’s warrior, Shammah.

Again, some like to bind these three names (Shamgar, Samson, Shammah) into the one heroic person.

David and Elhanan

While a case could (and has) be (been) made for identifying these two as the same Israelite hero, there are stronger reasons for not doing so.

“And there was again war with the Philistines at Gob, and Elhanan

the son of Jaare-oregim, the Bethlehemite, struck down Goliath the Gittite,

the shaft of whose spear was like a weaver’s beam”.

2 Samuel 21:19

Might the biblical giant, Goliath, have been polycephalic?

Could David’s Goliath also have been Elhanan’s Goliath?

No, because, on closer inspection, Elhanan’s Goliath was not really a Goliath.

We know this much, at least (I Samuel 17:51): “Then David ran over and pulled Goliath’s sword from its sheath. David used it to kill him and cut off his head”.

But it could seem that, in fine folkloric fashion, Goliath thereupon grew another head, only to have this one removed by Elhanan (from 2 Samuel 21:19).

Or is this simply a case of a biblical repetition, due to the insertion of a different source using another name for David the Bethlehemite: namely, Elhanan?

The matter is well resolved, I think, at:

http://www.carm.org/bible-difficulties/joshua-esther/who-killed-goliath-david-or-elhanan in the article:

Who killed Goliath, David or Elhanan?

1 Samuel 17:50 and 2 Samuel 21:19

1. 
   David did (1 Samuel 17:50) – “Thus David prevailed over the Philistine with a sling and a stone, and he struck the Philistine and killed him; but there was no sword in David’s hand.”

• 
  Elhanan did (2 Sam. 21:19)- “And there was war with the Philistines again at Gob, and Elhanan the son of Jaare-oregim the Bethlehemite killed Goliath the Gittite, the shaft of whose spear was like a weaver’s beam.”

The answer lies in two areas. 1 Chronicles 20:5 says, “And there was war with the Philistines again, and Elhanan the son of Jair killed Lahmi the brother of Goliath the Gittite, the shaft of whose spear was like a weaver’s beam.” This is the correct answer; namely, that Elhanan killed Goliath’s brother.

Second, it appears there was a copyist error in 2 Samuel 21:19. According to Gleason Archer’s Encyclopedia of Bible Difficulties on page 179, it says,

1. The sign of the direct object, which in Chronicles comes just before “Lahmi,” was ‘-t; the copyist mistook it for b-t or b-y-t (“Beth”) and thus got Bet hal-Lahmi (“the Bethlehemite”) out of it.

• He misread the word for “brother” (‘-h) as the sign of the direct object (‘-t) right before g-l-y-t (“Goliath”). Thus he made “Goliath” the object of “killed” (wayyak), instead of the “brother” of Goliath (as the Chronicles passage does).

• The copyist misplaced the word for “weavers” (‘-r-g-ym) so as to put it right after “Elhanan” as his patronymic (ben Y-‘-r-y’-r–g-ym, or ben ya ‘arey ‘ore -gim — “the son of the forests of weavers” — a most unlikely name for anyone’s father!). In Chronicles the ‘ore grim (“weavers”) comes right after menor (“a beam of “) — thus making perfectly good sense.

Therefore, we see that 2 Samuel 21:19 had a copyist error and 1 Chronicles 20:5 is the correct information.

Shamgar and Samson

At first glance, an identification here (Shamgar = Samson) would seem less likely than that of the contemporaneous David with Elhanan, due to chronologies tending to separate the one from the other by not much less than a century.

According to these, Shamgar well preceded Samson.

However, I have, in my attempted re-organising of the Judges period, proposed a tucking up of certain poorly attested Judges with like, better-attested ones.

Jair the Gileadite as Jephthah the Gileadite, for instance; Ibzan of Bethlehem as Boaz of Bethlehem (from the contemporaneous Book of Ruth); Shamgar as Samson, following the article:

Shamgar Son of Anat and Israel’s Age of Heroes

Shamgar Son of Anat and Israel’s Age of Heroes

NOVEMBER 23, 2018 PAUL D.

Shamgar, Samson and Shammah

In the same article, the author will proceed to include in the mix, Shammah.

This is a case of like, but definitely not the same, due to, for one, the chronological gap of several hundred years:

Shammah and the Plot of Lentils

There is yet another biblical character whose story closely resembles those of Shamgar and Samson: Shammah son of Agee the Hararite. He was one of David’s gibborim—his war champions—who single-handedly defeated the Philistines in strikingly similar fashion to that of Shamgar and Samson:

Next to him was Shammah son of Agee, the Hararite. The Philistines gathered together at Lehi, where there was a plot of ground full of lentils. Now the army had fled from the Philistines, but he took his stand in the middle of the plot, defended it, and killed the Philistines; and Yahweh brought about a great victory. (2 Samuel 23:11–12)

Note that this battle is especially similar to Samson’s feat, including the location at Lehi, an otherwise obscure place. Either Shammah and Samson (Shimshon) are based on the same legend, or details have been borrowed from one to the other.

The malleability of biblical legend [sic] is evident in the way the Chronicler reassigns Shammah’s feat to Eleazar and David, substituting Lehi with Pas-dammim and the plot of lentils with a plot of barley:

And next to him among the three warriors was Eleazar son of Dodo, the Ahohite. He was with David at Pas-dammim when the Philistines were gathered there for battle. There was a plot of ground full of barley. Now the people had fled from the Philistines, but he and David took their stand in the middle of the plot, defended it, and killed the Philistines; and Yahweh saved them by a great victory. (1 Chronicles 11:12-14)

Regular readers may also recall how the defeat of the giant Goliath by the champion Elhanan (2 Sam. 21:19) was reattributed to David by a later author. Similarly, Shammah is downgraded in the more familiar Goliath story to become one of David’s brothers (1 Sam. 16:9), a mere bystander in the battle against the Philistines and the giant Goliath. Biblical legends shift like quicksand [sic].

Giants in the Land

In Genesis 6, the gibborim (warriors of old) born from the mating of gods and women are also understood to be giants, the Nephilim.³ The Nephilim and other giant races (Anakim, Rephaim, Zamzummim, and Emim)⁴ occasionally appear elsewhere in the Deuteronomic History, with no regard for the flood that is supposed to have wiped them out. If the Genesis 6 story reflects general Hebrew ideas about the origins of ancient heroes with great strength and stature, then those ideas probably apply to giants where they appear elsewhere. The term “Rephaim” in particular is closely connected with divine beings, being used not only to describe the Philistine giants (“sons of Rapha”) and mythical king Og of Bashan, but also certain inhabitants of the underworld (Psalm 88:11) who, according to pre-biblical Ugaritic texts, were chthonic deities (see Wyatt 590). Incidentally, in the same Ugaritic texts, these Rephaim were ruled by none other than Shapash (Shemesh), the sun goddess.⁵ 

….

Shammah’s enemy, the Philistines, included giants according to Samuel and Chronicles, and David’s chief warriors, among whom Shammah was counted, are described as slaying several of these giants. Although it is an army of Philistines rather than a giant that Shammah defeats in 2 Sam 23, the son of David’s brother Shammah/Shimei slays one in 2 Sam 21:20, and it is possible that both individuals are variations of the same legendary hero, as I suggested above.

While giants are not specifically mentioned in Judges, it is widely recognized that Samson himself is portrayed as a giant.

In a recent journal article, Christophe Lemardelé remarks (translation mine):

Now, that Samson was a giant in a tale older than its later form in Judges 13-16 is not in doubt. Indeed, all of his exploits and, most of all, the one in which he carried the gates of the city of Gaza to the mountain across from Hebron (16,3), reveal just such a figure. Even though the hero was updated to illustrate a ritual involving young men and was “shrunk” to make him a judge in one view of the historical reconstruction of “Israel” (14,20 and 16,31), the character retains the traits of a giant that inspire fear (14,11). (Lemardelé [2010] 171)

Thompson agrees, and links Samson’s superhuman stature and strength to his divine parentage:

Samson is a giant, like those born of the sons of God in Genesis 6, and Samson has divine strength. The story [of Samson’s birth] is a comic adventure of this figure of folklore, vigorously drawing on the amusement that the husband’s ignorance of divine intervention allows. (Op. cit. 342)

Is it possible Shamgar son of Anat was originally conceived of as a giant as well? Superhuman strength and size would go a long way in explaining how one could kill 600 men with a farming tool.

Comparing the Three Heroes

The following chart shows the most obvious points of similar between Shamgar, Samson, and Shammah. ….

Shamgar Son of Anat and Israel’s Age of Heroes

Boaz and Ibzan

by

Damien F. Mackey

“The Sages identify Ibzan with Boaz (Ruth’s husband in the Book of Ruth)

because Boaz, like Ibzan, came from Bethlehem (TB Bava Batra 91a) which,

they assume, is the Bethlehem in Judah”.

Nathan Moskovitz

Previously, I made the suggestion – based upon my experience with the kings of Israel and Judah, that: “Some Judges may be duplicates, as may perhaps be the case with Shamgar and Samson, which, if correct, will significantly affect structure and chronology”.

On Shamgar and Samson, see e.g. my article:

Judge Shamgar could be Samson but not Shammah

(2) Judge Shamgar could be Samson but not Shammah | Damien Mackey – Academia.edu

Since then, I have wondered about a possible fusing of Jephthah with Jair.

And now, taking such matters a little further, I would like to propose, tentatively (what others before me have thought), that the obscure Judge, Ibzan, may be the same person as Boaz, the husband of Ruth, and ancestor of King David (cf. Matthew 1:5-6).

Nathan Moskowitz will refer to this theory, in his article “Judge Ibzan of Bethlehem: Judah or Zebulun? Peshat and Derash”, while, however, rejecting it in favour of Ibzan being, not from the Bethlehem in the south, but the one in the north (in Zebulun): https://jbqnew.jewishbible.org/assets/Uploads/433/jbq_433_moskowitzivtzan.pdf

After him [Jephthah], Ibzan from Bethlehem led Israel. He had thirty sons, and he married off thirty daughters outside the clan and brought in thirty girls from outside the clan for his sons. He led Israel seven years. Then Ibzan died and was buried in Bethlehem

(Judg. 12: 8-10).

Ibzan, the tenth judge of Israel, ruled for seven years (approximately 1094 – 1087 BCE), following Jephthah’s eventful and turbulent reign. Jephthah’s stewardship was occupied with fighting bloody foreign and civil wars, and his private life was marked by immense personal tragedy.

Ibzan’s reign was of a totally different sort. He is considered a minor judge because his entire career is described in three brief verses from which epic battles, theological confrontations, and other national events are entirely absent. His tribal affiliation is not even mentioned and is in fact somewhat controversial. Our hypothesis here is that by critically analyzing his life, as described in the text, and juxtaposing it with the description of his ancient ancestors, it will become evident that he belonged to the tribe of Zebulun.

IBZAN OF BETHLEHEM-JUDAH

There are two separate towns named Bethlehem. One is located in the southern territory of Judah (I Sam. 17:12) and the other, Beit Lehem haGelilit, in the northern territory of Zebulun (Josh. 19:15). The Sages identify Ibzan with Boaz (Ruth’s husband in the Book of Ruth) because Boaz, like Ibzan, came from Bethlehem (TB Bava Batra 91a) which, they assume, is the Bethlehem in Judah. This makes exegetical sense, because traditionally Bethlehem-Judah has far greater historical importance and associations than Bethlehem-Zebulun. Furthermore, Boaz is identified as a man of substance [gibbor hayil] (Ruth 2:1), an appropriate way of describing a judge ….