READING HALLTHE DOORS OF WISDOM |
THE ASSYRIAN EMPIRE. TABLE OF CONTENTSCHAPTER XVII
ISRAEL AND THENEIGHBOURING STATES
I.
EARLY HISTORY TO THE MIDDLE OF THE NINTH CENTURY B.C.
ALTHOUGH the political history of the minor states
which lay between Egypt, Asia Minor and the dominions of Assyria and Babylonia
was throughout shaped by that of their great neighbours, they had,
nevertheless, a certain internal independence of their own. This has already
been observed in the neo-Hittite states; and Israel and Judah, too, although
inextricably interwoven, as it would seem, with the whole area of which they
were, geographically and historically, an organic part, had distinctive
features which marked them out from the rest, and, for obvious reasons, call
for special treatment. Now, we are in the fortunate position of being able to
read their history from within in a way that is impossible in the case of the
other states; for the small land whose internal development proved so vital for
the history of the world is that one alone which has preserved in its sacred
writings an account, or rather material for an account, of the events which
gave it its importance. The period to be surveyed is, broadly speaking, that of
the prominence of Aramaean and secondary ‘Hittite’ kingdoms in the north, the extension
of the Assyrian empire until it reached Egypt (ninth—seventh centuries), the
gradual disintegration of these northern kingdoms and the overthrow of Israel,
the brief reign of neo-Babylonian empire upon the ruins of Assyria, and the
fall of Judah, and the Exile. Finally, Egypt and south-west Asia passed into
the hands of the Persians, and in due course we leave an old Oriental world for
one more under Western influence. In the pages that follow we shall supplement
the preceding chapters by an outline of the history of Israel and her immediate
neighbours, and shall then proceed to notice the internal development, in so
far as it helps us to understand the course of events.
Native contemporary monuments are unfortunately very
few. Numerous archaeological remains survive to suggest that further
examination of the ‘tells’ would disclose much valuable material. The Egyptian
evidence is scanty and inconclusive. The Assyrian monuments are of the first
importance. The Old Testament is our main source. It contains the history of
Israel and Judah in two forms: (1) the books of Samuel-Kings, which, with the
preceding Joshua-Judges, were known as ‘prophetical’ (didactic) rather than as
‘historical’ writings; and (2) Chronicles, continued further in Ezra-Nehemiah.
Of these the former series is now linked on to the Pentateuch, and ends
abruptly with the release by Evil-Merodach of the captive Judaean king
Jehoiachin (561). The second series runs essentially parallel to Samuel
(parts) and Kings, but passes from the fall of Jerusalem (586) to the time of
Cyrus (539), when it describes the return of Judaeans from exile and the
reconstruction of the Jewish state. The book of Chronicles is now recognized to
be distinctly later and less trustworthy than the parallel Samuel-Kings, as can
easily be seen from the slight use made of it by all modern writers; and a
comparison of the two illuminates the free methods of ancient compilers, their
various and conflicting interests, and the growth of tradition. There is a
characteristic reshaping of earlier tradition on religious grounds which can be
readily perceived and discounted; but Chronicles also contains traditions which
appear to be merely late and more developed forms, both of what is already
found in the earlier series, and of what, though lost, is too circumstantial to
be ignored. The earlier series itself is far from being contemporary or
entirely trustworthy. It, too, is the result of compilation; it includes
conflicting traditions, and often represents a late didactic treatment of
events. Accordingly, while some of the sources of the ‘Chronicler’ (as the
compiler of the later series is commonly called) go back some centuries before
his own age (not earlier than the fourth century BC), Samuel-Kings has had a
complex literary history and did not reach its present form before the release
of Jehoiachin (561), and in all probability is at least several decades later.
As has already been shown, the biblical sources do not
allow us to furnish any simple or convincing sketch of the union of the tribes
of Israel into a single monarchy. The first king, Saul, was evidently a more
powerful figure than appears from those narratives which either reflect a
Judaean bias in favour of his rival and successor David, or have a certain
anti-monarchical bias and emphasize the influence of Samuel, a figure of the
‘prophetical’ rather than the ‘priestly’ type. Saul’s work as king was undone
through his defeat by the Philistines at Gilboa, and David became king at
Hebron in the south. Ultimately he took Jerusalem from the non-Israelite
Jebusites and made it his capital. While the oldest traditions seem to separate
the heroic founders of Israel and Judah, later writers not only closely
associate them, but they view the occupation of Jerusalem as the climax of all
that had gone before. Hence we find in the biblical narrative an apparently
unbroken continuity between the Exodus from Egypt, the laws promulgated in
readiness for the Promised Land and the place which Yahweh should choose, the
conquest of Palestine, the settlement of the ark at Jerusalem, the
preparations for the building of the Temple, and the inauguration of a dynasty
which surmounted all crises, survived the Exile, and, after a brief revival
under Zerubbabel (c. 520—516), disappeared in unknown circumstances, to be
replaced by a priestly regime. At this later stage—which falls outside the
period treated in this volume—we reach conditions and tendencies which have
been reflected back even to the days of the Exodus and Conquest, and the course
of the history, in its extant form, becomes intelligible only when we view the
past from the very late standpoints of the writers themselves.
What is related of Saul, David and his son Solomon
shows how naturally the strength of Israel and Judah depended upon relations
with Aramaeans, Phoenicians and Philistines, with Ammon, Moab and Edom. David
comes before us as a successful conqueror from south Judah, if not a more
southern locality. Having established his power by force of arms, he founds a
kingdom, which possibly stretched as far north as Kadesh on the Orontes; he
plants a garrison at Damascus, enters into friendly relations with Hamath, and,
like Solomon, enlists the help of Tyre in his building
enterprises. Of Solomon himself (c. 974-932) an impressive picture is given.
His numerous marriages point to widespread alliances. His marriage with a
Pharaoh’s daughter brought him Gezer, which her father had taken from the
Canaanites: Egypt, it would seem, was not unmindful of her ancient claims upon
Palestine. The coastal plain—an object of anxious concern to both Egypt and
Israel—was thus secured, and the fortification of Hazor, Megiddo and Bethhoron,
of which we read, would control the main trade-routes. With Hiram of Tyre
Solomon owned a ‘Tarshish’ fleet, which, to judge from the name, went to
Tartessus in Spain, though not there alone. From Eziongeber
in Edom a fleet, manned by Phoenicians, brought gold from the land of Ophir (? South Arabia). Edom itself had been exterminated by
David, though the escape of the young prince Hadad had important results later.
A traffic in horses was conducted with Mizraim (Musri) and Kue, i.e. probably
with Cilicia and adjacent countries. Finally, the well-known story of the Queen
of Sheba’s visit with a camel-train of spices, gold and precious stones—a
favourite theme in later legend—is at least a hint of the valuable trade
between the little-known South Arabian kingdoms and the north.
It is not easy to determine how far Solomon’s power
has been idealized. We read of a mighty kingdom from Gaza (the port for Arabian
trade with the Levant) to Thapsacus on the Euphrates. These were halcyon days
for Israel and Judah, when men dwelt secure under vine and fig-tree, or
officered the remnant of the pre-Israelite ‘Amorites,’ who did all the toil.
Later ages told of Solomon’s uxoriousness, the wisdom of his mature years, the
pessimism of his old age, his great wealth, his idolatry, and that sovereignty
over the world of creatures and demons which so fascinates the Oriental. Behind
all this it is difficult to perceive the man himself. There is, however, a
darker side to the picture: we learn that Israel itself must raise a levy of
workmen, that for this purpose the land was divided into twelve districts, a
division which not only ignored tribal boundaries, but evidently favoured Judah
with exemption. Majestic buildings and their upkeep, the cult-places for the
gods of the foreign wives, and all the disadvantages of Oriental monarchy,
laid a heavy burden upon the people. Various cities in the north were ceded to
Hiram. Hadad of Edom, who had fled to Egypt and married the sister of the
queen, returned to his country, and became an enemy to Solomon.
In the north a hostile kingdom was established at Damascus. And
at the centre of Israel itself Jeroboam ben (i.e. son of) Nebat, who was in charge of the local labour-bands,
headed a revolt, and was forced to escape to Egypt. Egypt, too, the
refuge of Solomon’s enemies, seems no longer friendly; naturally, it would not
desire Palestine to be too powerful. On the death of Solomon his son Rehoboam
proposed to be crowned at the old city of Shechem; but the northern tribes were
restless, and summoned Jeroboam from Egypt as their leader. Their demand for
less onerous treatment was ignominiously refused. Adoniram (or Adoram), who was
over the levy, was sent by Rehoboam, but was stoned to death by the rebels;
Jeroboam was proclaimed king, and north and south, which even under David had
never been closely united, fell apart.
To accentuate the cleavage and weaken the supremacy of
Jerusalem as the political and religious capital, Jeroboam is said to have made
two bull-images, placing them in the border cities of Dan (in the north) and
Bethel, io miles north of Jerusalem; he changed the date of the important autumnal feast of Tabernacles, and instituted his
own priests. The schism is treated didactically by the writers. Some regard it
as inevitable: Ahijah, a prophet of Shiloh, supports Jeroboam, while Shemaiah
dissuades Rehoboam from making war. Others treat the schism as an unforgivable
offence: only in Jerusalem is the God of Israel to be found. Henceforth, a
generally unfavourable view is taken of the kings of Israel, and the fall of
the northern kingdom is attributed to the wickedness of the founder of the cult
of the calves and to its persistent apostasy. On the other hand, the kings of
Judah are estimated in the light of sweeping reforms ascribed to Josiah (c. 621), which are the climax of the
religious history of the land, so that kings are judged by their attitude to
the temple of Jerusalem. With rare exceptions (when special sources are
employed) the histories of the two kingdoms are treated independently, and are
placed within a framework which dates the accession of each king by the year
of his contemporary in the rival kingdom—there is a fairly similar procedure in
the ‘Synchronous History’ of Babylonia—and throughout employs stereotyped
formulae, indicative of a single and simple editorial process. But while Judah
and Israel are essentially rivals—though from time to time one controlled the
other—Judah was also one of the ‘sons’ of Jacob, and one of the tribes of
Israel; and Judah claimed, especially after the Exile, to be the sole and true
Israel. It is convenient, therefore, to speak of the northern kingdom, when it
is to be kept distinct from the south, as Ephraim or Samaria, and to use
‘Israel’ either to include Judah or in those cases where distinction is
impossible or unnecessary.
The separate treatment of Judah and Ephraim renders it
difficult to follow the events after the schism. The powerful Davidic kingdom
had broken in pieces, and Israel’s relations with Edom, Moab, Damascus and
Phoenicia entered upon a new stage. Jerusalem itself, no longer the capital of
a single people, was in a dangerous position, close to the border of her rival.
Judah, deprived of its earlier advantages, depended for its welfare on its
relations with its immediate neighbours, especially Edom, Philistia (the
Philistine coast) and Egypt. Its annals know of an invasion by Shishak. Temple
and palace treasure was carried off, and the Chronicler even hints at
subjugation to Egypt. The Egyptian evidence does not show at all clearly
whether Egypt was helping Ephraim against Judah. Jeroboam, who had made Shechem
his capital, removed to Penuel for reasons unspecified; but this latter city is
among those enumerated by Shishak. Other Ephraimite cities (e.g. Bethshan) are
also named; and, unless we assume that the Egyptians grossly exaggerated the
invasion, it is possible that most of the cities named merely paid tribute.
Of Rehoboam’s otherwise unknown son Abijam (or rather
Abijah) the Chronicler relates a great victory over Jeroboam, and the capture
of Bethel and other south Ephraimite cities. Two years later the Judaean throne
was occupied by Asa, whose long reign of forty years (c. 914—874) was
contemporary with vital changes in the north. Jeroboam was succeeded by Nadab,
who, while besieging the Philistines at Gibbethon (a frontier city of the south
Danites), was slain in a conspiracy by Baasha of the tribe of Issachar. The
rest of Jeroboam’s seed was exterminated, and Baasha, with Tirzah as his new
capital, energetically attacked Asa. Ramah, only five miles north of Jerusalem,
was invested and Asa was reduced to bribing Ben-Hadad, king of Damascus, to
create a diversion. An army was sent to harry the northern districts (Dan,
Abel, Naphtali), and Baasha was forced to withdraw. Asa thereupon dismantled
Ramah, fortified Mizpah, and established a new fortress at Geba, a commanding
height about 3000 ft. above sea-level, between Ramah and Jerusalem. The
Chronicler tells how a prophet, condemning Asa’s reliance upon Aram instead of
Yahweh, pointed to his earlier marvellous victory over Zerah, the Cushite
(Ethiopian) at Mareshah. The historical basis of the story is disputed.
Although the name Zerah can hardly be identified with that of Osorkon I, a
battle with Egyptians is not improbable. But the name is found in old South
Arabian inscriptions, and ‘Cush’ was also the reputed ancestor of Sheba and
other Arabian divisions. Inroads from the south are characteristic of Judaean
history, and confusion between Egyptians and Arabians is prominent later. It is
difficult to decide between the claims of Egypt and Arabia, and it might even
be assumed that the story of an Arabian raid has been applied to some genuine
recollection of an invasion of Palestine by Osorkon. In any event, an attack
from the south would certainly affect other countries besides Judah—notably
Philistia.
Meanwhile, in Ephraim an energetic king was, as was
not rarely the case, succeeded by a weakling, and Baasha’s son Elah, ‘while
drinking himself drunk’ at Tirzah, was killed by Zimri, the captain of half his
chariots. The royal house was, as usual, put to the sword. Zimri’s treachery
became a by-word. Only seven days passed—unless with the Septuagint we read
seven years—and the army, which was again besieging the Philistine Gibbethon,
chose Omri as king. Omri marched against Tirzah and seized it; and Zimri,
seeing that the cause was hopeless, entered the citadel and burnt it over his
head. For a time Tibni and Joram, sons of Gunath, maintained an opposition, but
at last in Asa’s thirty-first year (c.
884) Omri gained complete control and became head of the first dynasty of
Ephraim. This pre-eminence of military rule is noteworthy; we may compare the
strength of the generals of Saul and David. The tribal origin of Baasha, and
possibly of Tibni (? of Naphtali), suggests frequent disagreement between the
central and the more northerly tribes. Moreover, the fact that there was a
second siege of Gibbethon points to continued unrest along the coastal plain;
but we are unable to coordinate it with the little we know of Egypt or of north
Arabia.
The names of both Rehoboam (‘the enlargement of ‘am’)
and Jeroboam (‘a’ will contend’) contain an element ‘am’(‘uncle’; but also used
as a divine name), which is familiar in South Arabian; and while the former, on
his mother’s side, was half-Ammonite, the name of the ‘father’ of the latter,
Nebat, associates itself both with south Arabian and with the Nabataeans, who, however, do not appear in history until several centuries
later. Even Zimri and Omri have names of marked Arabian analogy, whereas that
of the chief of the levy, Adoram, suggests the old god Addu or Adad. Further,
the list of Solomon’s administrative officers (1 Kings IV) is characterized by
archaic compounds of Ben-(‘son’). One cannot avoid observing a certain colour
about these names, the more significant because the name Yahweh does not
predominate, although the stage upon which we now enter is clearly recognized,
by the old writers themselves, to be one of supreme importance for the history
of Yahwism.
Omri and his son Ahab are our first definite landmarks
in the history of Israel. Both left their impress upon tradition, and for a
century and a half the Assyrians continued to call Ephraim ‘the land of Beth
(the house of) Omri’. To Omri is ascribed the founding of a new capital at
Samaria, six miles north-west of Nablus, called, we are naively told, after
Shemer, the former owner of the hill; that it was not an ancient site seems to
be proved by the results of the Harvard excavations. The rise of the Omri
dynasty is contemporary with new activity in Phoenicia. Ahab had as wife
Jezebel, daughter of Ethbaal, or Ithobaal, the Sidonian priest-king of Astarte,
who, too, like Omri, had seized the throne by violence. Sidon held sway over
the other Phoenician cities, and Ithobaal is credited by later writers with the
foundation of Botrys (north of Byblus) and Auza (in Libya). While tradition
avers that Solomon’s ally, Hiram of Tyre, worked zealously for his deities
Melkart (the Baal of Tyre, later identified by the Greeks with Heracles) and
Astarte, so now, with the priestly usurper of Sidon as an ally of Ephraim, the
spread of the Phoenician cults was a natural result, only to be enhanced when
in due course Athaliah, the daughter of Ahab and Jezebel, was married to Asa’s
grandson Jehoram. Phoenicia and Israel had always much in common, they were
‘brother’ peoples; and while there was always closer intercourse between them
than our scanty narratives relate, at this period we enter upon a new stage in
their relations.
Asa was Omri’s contemporary, and for a time there were
close relations between Judah and Ephraim, alliance in sea-trade (with control
over Eziongeber) and in war. Ephraim was undoubtedly the predominant partner.
The assumption that Judah would naturally be influenced by the Phoenician cults
will explain the Chronicler’s story of Asa’s unbelief; but it is noteworthy
that, although Baal-names are prominent among those found on more or less
contemporary ostraca unearthed at Samaria, Yahweh names are also conspicuous in
the dynasty; and the names Joram (or Jehoram) and Ahaziah are, strangely
enough, borne by successive kings in Judah and (in the inverse order) in
Ephraim.
Not only was Judah subordinate to Ephraim, but
conquests east of the Jordan made Moab tributary. For some years, therefore,
Ephraim must have been the centre of a powerful nucleus of states. In the
farther north, too, were extensive combinations of Aramaean kingdoms, which the
increasing threat of Assyria was uniting to face the common danger. Assyria had
her eyes on the Western Lands—it was part of a deliberate policy—and, for the
first time since Tiglath-Pileser I, an Assyrian king
reached the Mediterranean, and that without opposition. Ashur-Nasir-Pal (884-859)
thus speaks (876):
“I marched along the Lebanon and went up to the Great
Sea of the land of Amor. In the Great Sea I washed my weapons. I sacrificed
before my gods”.
Rich tribute was received from the Phoenician towns,
but Damascus and the southern states were untouched. In a series of expeditions
he and his successor, Shalmaneser III (859—824) strove to break down the
opposition of the Aramaean kingdoms, strong pro-Assyrian tendencies, mingled
with internecine rivalry, facilitating their steps. Damascus, however, under
Adad-Idri (the Ben-Hadad of the O.T.) stood out as a powerful champion, and
then, as later, was the real bulwark against Assyrian aggression in Palestine.
For long Shalmaneser was confronted with a remarkable confederation of ‘kings
of the Hatti-land and of the seacoast’. Here were Musri, Hamath and several
Phoenician cities—Arvad, Irkanata, Shiana (the Sinite), Usanat (? Hosah), also Arabia (the Syrian desert), Ammon (under a king
Baasha), and Ahabbu Sir-i-lai. The last, ‘Ahab the Israelite,’
contributed the largest number of chariots (2000) and the third largest army
(10,000). The obvious importance of Ephraim is as noteworthy as the absence of
Judah, which, if not included among Ahab’s troops, may have lain entirely
outside the political field. The two sides met at the battle of Karkar (?
Apamea on the Orontes, 853 BC), but the allies hardly suffered the severe
defeat which Shalmaneser claims to have inflicted upon them.
Only after repeated attacks was the league broken. Tyre
and Sidon, which are absent from the above list, were perhaps already
tributary, and the other states were presumably induced to remain quiescent. At
all events, in a fourth campaign against Damascus (841) the Assyrian king,
possibly through the defection of Ephraim, gained a more decisive success. He
is no longer confronted by the old alliance: new rulers, military usurpers,
appear in both Damascus (Hazael) and Ephraim (Jehu); and while Jehu, Tyre and
Sidon—under compulsion, or to buy favour—pay tribute, Hazael seems to have
borne the brunt of the attacks in the northern part of the Lebanon. He was
defeated in Sanir (Mt Hermon), the northern part of the Anti-Lebanon, and
Shalmaneser moved down into Hauran, destroying his cities. Then, working across
(? via Jezreel, or some more northerly route), he reached the ‘head-land’,
where he set up his monument at the Nahr el-Kelb. Events proved, however, that
Hazael, though beaten, was not destroyed, and a fresh campaign was necessary a
few years later (837). Meanwhile, Shalmaneser gathered the fruits of victory,
and the famous ‘Black Obelisk’ (in the British Museum) represents, on the
second panel from the top, the Israelite tribute-bearers and their
officials—men in long-fringed garments with short sleeves and turban-like caps.
The facial type is ‘outspokenly Hittite’, and testifies to the powerful
influence of the Armenoid Hittites, whereas Shishak’s monument represents
another type which may be regarded as ‘Amorite.’
Ephraim thus came definitely within the horizon of
Assyria. The repeated Assyrian campaigns, the forming and breaking of the
successful anti-Assyrian league, and the dynastic changes in both Ephraim and
Damascus imply profound internal political vicissitudes. The age was a stirring
one, and it is precisely upon events culminating in these dynastic changes that
the biblical history itself concentrates. It treats the period from Ahab to the
accession of Jehu as one of such importance that the effort must be made to
ascertain what these years meant for the internal history of Israel.
II
ELIJAH AND THE RISE OF JEHU
Both Kings and Chronicles describe with exceptional
fullness the close of the dynasty of Omri and Ahab and the rise of new kings in
Damascus, Ephraim and Judah. This fact in itself is significant. The prophets
Elijah and Elisha are the central figures. We see the austere Elijah denouncing
Ahab and his Phoenician wife for the judicial murder of Naboth, whose field the
king desired for himself. Ahab’s penitence, however, procures a respite, and
the judgment falls on his son Jehoram. Moreover, the land is suffering from a
terrible drought—known also to Phoenician tradition—and Elijah, the champion of
Yahweh, is ranged against the Baal-cult of the court. At a wonderful scene on
Mt Carmel Yahweh overcomes Baal—it is Yahweh who sends the rain. Fleeing for
his life to Horeb, the ‘mount of God,’ Elijah, in an impressive theophany,
receives the dread message of the purging sword of Hazael, Jehu and Elisha.
Interspersed are stories of Elijah, Elisha and other prophets, the parts they
played in great political events, their marvels on behalf of the state or of
private persons. We mingle with the guilds of the prophets at Gilgal, Bethel
and Jericho—they were circles likely to cherish traditions of their august
heroes, rather than those of the Assyrian campaigns. It is a striking fact that
the biblical writers have preserved no memory of the Assyrian events, whereas
these guilds are the very bodies among which would circulate the somewhat
domestic stories of the wonder-workers (e.g. 2 Kings II, 19—25). Finally, amid fierce Ephraimite-Aramaean wars, Jehu, one of
the captains of Israel, fighting at Ramoth-Gilead, was anointed king through
Elisha. Raising the revolt, he killed Jehoram at Jezreel, slew Ahaziah of
Judah, massacred the princes of both households, and destroyed the Baal-cult in
Samaria. In Judah Athaliah, the mother of Ahaziah, exterminated the seed royal
and became queen of Judah. A few years later she was killed in a Judaean
revolt, and her grandson, the young prince J(eh)oash, who had escaped the
massacres, was placed on the throne, the protégé of the priests and the choice
of the people, and the Baal-cult was thus removed from Jerusalem.
Undoubtedly we have a land-mark in the history of
Israel: Elijah himself stands for some far-reaching changes. A vast conflict
has been embodied in a single figure who, in fact,
came to rank second only to Moses. But, in the incisive words of Wellhausen, ‘there
remains the vague impression that with him the development of Israel’s
conception of Yahweh entered upon a new stadium, rather than any data from
which it can be ascertained wherein the contrast of the new with the old lay’.
An estimate of the history must be based on four leading arguments: (a) there
is a gap between the stories of Elisha’s part in the Ephraimite-Aramaean wars,
and other events before the accession of Jehu, on the one hand, and, on the
other, his final interview, nearly fifty years later, with Jehu’s grandson
Jehoash (2 Kings XIII, 14-19). Here the dying prophet is represented as one
‘whose spirit had been the best defence of the realm—its chariots and its
horsemen’ (Skinner). Accordingly, unless this reference be to the events of half-a-century previously, Elisha was evidently the mainstay
of Ephraim during the terrible Aramaean wars which we meet after the rise of
Jehu, although he is not mentioned in them. Hence, it becomes very difficult
not to believe that (to quote Robertson Smith) ‘those narratives in which the
renowned prophet appears as on friendly terms with the king and possessed of
influence at court plainly belong to the time of Jehu’s dynasty, though they
are related before the fall of the house of Omri.’
Further (b), chronological and other details (2 Kings
I, 17, etc.) combine to show that there have been ‘sweeping operations’ in the
course of which the independent Elisha-narratives were freely transposed in
accordance with the views of different editors’ (Skinner). Thus, there has been
transposition of material, and the Elisha narratives belong more naturally to
the later dynasty. The effect of these conclusions is incalculable. Moreover
(c), it proves more than difficult to place the Ephraimite-Aramaean wars, which
are so prominent in the stories of Elijah and Elisha, before the accession of
Jehu. Israel had been a powerful supporter of the antiAssyrian league; and, as
the narrative relates, Elisha foresees the horrors of which the Aramaeans would
be guilty. Further, the stories of the wars are, as a rule, anonymous, or
involve situations which either are not in accord with the conditions, or are
in marked agreement with events of the Jehu dynasty. For example, not only does
the terrible siege of Samaria presuppose a general situation for which there is
otherwise no warrant, but Micaiah’s impressive prophecy of the utter rout of
Israel is not even substantially fulfilled, though it fits in admirably with
the misery of Israel under the later dynasty. In common with the Elisha-stories,
the Aramaean wars, as described, more naturally illustrate the dynasty of Jehu,
where they form a fairly continuous thread, than that of Omri; and it is
scarcely a coincidence that, as the narratives now read, all the Aramaean wars
of Ephraim cover one-third of the total duration of the northern kingdom. But
although the narratives seem to have been reshaped, and arranged in accordance
with some historical theory, the fact remains that before the rise of Jehu
Aramaean razzias, as distinct from campaigns, are entirely probable1; for the
tendencies which supported the usurper Hazael might well be opposed to his
predecessor, Adad-idri, and his Ephraimite ally. For example, the new king
Hazael may well have warred against his predecessor’s ally, Jehoram, and his
Judaean vassal at Ramoth-Gilead; and Jehoram’s general, Jehu, may well have
been induced at this juncture to turn his sword against his own master. So the
sword of Hazael could have preceded that of Jehu, and Hazael and Jehu may have
united against the older alliance of the dynasties of Damascus and of Samaria.
Whatever the Aramaean conflicts actually were, we have
now to observe that (d) there are traces of very serious revolts in the south
on the part of Edom and Philistia. Moab too revolted after the death of Ahab.
That the petty neighbouring states should seek to take advantage of Ephraim’s
participation in the war against Assyria is intelligible, but it is not easy to
trace the course of events. Asa’s son Jehoshaphat outlived Ahab, and maintained
the joint trading-journeys from Eziongeber with Ahaziah of Ephraim. There are vague
references to the destruction of the fleet, and these become more clear when, a
few years later, Jehoshaphat’s successor, Joram or Jehoram (c. 850), has to face
an Edomite revolt; and, as Libnah in the south revolted at the same time, there
was evidently one of the not infrequent alliances of Edom and Philistia.
Jehoram attacked Edom at Zair (Zoar, south of the Dead Sea?), but was forced to
retreat; and it is noteworthy that the Chronicler records quite consistently,
though with much embellishment, first, the tribute brought to Jehoshaphat by
Philistines and Arabs (i.e. Edomites)
and, later, their revolt against Jehoram. Meanwhile, in Ephraim, Ahab’s weak
son Ahaziah was helpless before the revolt of Moab, but his successor, Joram or
Jehoram, made an energetic attempt to recover his power (2 Kings III). His
Judaean ally was the good king Jehoshaphat (who is contrasted with his
Ephraimite cousin), but other chronological schemes point to Jehoram of Judah,
or the latter’s successor, the short-lived Ahaziah. The king of Edom appears,
strangely enough, as participating in the campaign against the king of Moab;
but the story of the latter’s attempt to cut his way through to the king of
Edom points to the desire, not to destroy a traitor (though subsequently Moab
and Edom were bitterly hostile), but to join an ally. Omri’s conquests had
thrust Moab towards Edom, and the army of Jehoram of Ephraim took the
circuitous route by the south of the Dead Sea, evidently in order to drive a
wedge between them. And Moab in fact was hard pressed, until in obscure
circumstances the invading forces were driven off: the king of Moab, we are
told, offered up his eldest son as a burnt offering upon the wall of his city,
‘and there was great wrath against Israel’. So Jehoram of Ephraim returned in
defeat to his land even as, in the independent annals of Judah, a Jehoram
suffered defeat, probably in the same region—and on one chronological scheme
the two Jehorams were contemporary.
The coincidence of these traditions may tempt the
conjecture that there was only one Jehoram over a single kingdom, and that we
have the Judaean and Ephraimite versions. It is at least clear that Judah,
faced with victorious foes in Moab, Edom and Philistia, was in dire straits,
and ran the risk of being blotted out. The Chronicler even tells of an invasion
of Judah by Philistines, Arabians (i.e.
Edomites) and others, and the sack of Jerusalem, Jehoahaz (i.e. Ahaziah) alone surviving the massacre. Moreover, the stories
in Kings of Jehu’s slaughter of forty-two Judaean princes and Athaliah’s
destruction of the seed royal, point to sweeping changes in Judah. Dubious
though the Chronicler’s unsupported traditions are, there is a certain consistency
when they record Jehoshaphat’s victory over Moabites and others near Tekoa in
the wilderness, and when they state that his alliance with Ephraim was
condemned by Eliezer ben Dodovahu, whose name is of an old type, and whose home
was at Mareshah, situated in the very district through which attacks would be
made upon Judah. Although these traditions of Judaean disaster are
unfortunately very obscure, they at least point to some important vicissitudes
in Judah and south Palestine not less significant than the Aramaean
disturbances in the north. Accordingly, we have next to notice that when, at
Elisha’s instigation, Jehu made himself king and put down the Baal-cult in
Ephraim, he was associated with Jehonadab the Rechabite, the representative of
a guild famed for its puritanism and its antipathy to settled life. As a
protest against a decadent civilization, this collaboration indicates that
Jehu’s reforming movement had the support of those who favoured a simpler life.
It is very noteworthy, therefore, that the Rechabites were related to the
Kenites (the kin of Moses), and had Judaean and south Palestinian connections:
desert influences played some part in Jehu’s reforms. Elijah’s visit to Horeb
the ‘mount of God’ and his fight against the Tyrian Baal now have a new
significance, since, just as Elisha played a leading part in the political
changes in Damascus and Samaria, so the visit of Elijah to the southern desert
presumably had some connection with the movements in the south. To Ahab Elijah
was ‘the troubler of Israel’, he was essentially a political and a religious
adversary. Hence, Elijah at Horeb, the warning prophet of Mareshah, and the
disaster to the Israelite fleet at Eziongeber, are facts which combine with the
other evidence that has been specified to point to far-reaching-political
activity in connection with the religious changes at the rise of Jehu.
Although Judah and Ephraim were once closely
connected, and the Baal-cult had been introduced into Judah, the history of
Judah is made to run an independent course in our sources. Ahaziah of Judah and
Jehoram of Ephraim perished together, and Jehu massacred the princely families
of both countries; but, curiously enough, Jehu neither became king of Judah,
nor does he appear to have laid claim to that throne. What is more striking is
that Jehu’s reform in collaboration with the Rechabites had no apparent
repercussion in Judah. On the contrary, we learn that at Ahaziah’s death the
queen-mother Athaliah destroyed all the royal family, ascended the throne and
reigned six years, when Jehoiada the priest won over the temple-guards, killed
the queen, and set up the young Joash (Jehoash), the sole survivor of the
Davidic stock. Then only did the people destroy the Baal-temple and slay the
priest Mattan: his name (which stands for Mattan-baal) was also the name of
Ethbaal’s grandson and therefore Athaliah’s cousin. But the writer in Kings is
chiefly interested in the temple; and we hear of a new plan for providing for
repairs because the priests embezzled the offerings. The Judaean narrative thus
becomes extremely perplexing, for, in view of the vassalage of Judah and the
apparent strength of Athaliah, the more powerful we reckon the Baal-cult in
Judah the less trustworthy become the very favourable estimates of the superior
piety of Jehoshaphat, and the greater the likelihood, both of some sanguinary
religious and political reform in Judah, and of the stories of sweeping attacks
from the southern deserts. As it is, the accession of Joash is, according to
the extant narratives, a victory of the priests and the temple-guard over the
nobles, and the Chronicler goes on to relate that after the death of the priest
Jehoiada the king was seduced by the Judaean princes and ‘wrath came upon Judah
and Jerusalem for their guilt’. In a word, the reform, in the Judaean
tradition, is essentially a priestly one, and as it opens the second of the
three equal periods into which Judaean history is divided, some artificial
shaping of the events may be suspected, as there was in the account of the
Aramaean wars
The usual view of the age of Elijah is that it saw a
contest between Yahweh and the cult of the Tyrian Baal (and Astarte). But
later, even in the days of Zephaniah, the name of Baal had not been eradicated,
and close relations between Israel and Tyre, both earlier (in the days of David
and Solomon), and later, would involve a fairly continuous influence of
Phoenician religion. Indeed, the Phoenician and other altars attributed to
Solomon are supposed to have lasted from his time until the days of Josiah’s
reforms. None the less, the narratives undoubtedly represent some protest
against Phoenicia.
In primitive thought the destructive drought of
Elijah’s age would be taken as a sign of divine displeasure, especially with a
bad king; and this fact gives force to Elijah’s championship of Yahweh’s
sovereignty against Ahab and Jezebel. According to Menander (cited by Josephus)
there was a year’s drought in Phoenicia, and it was removed only through the prayers
of Ethbaal the priest-king. Now Ethbaal is no other than the father-inlaw of
Ahab himself, and it seems very probable that here we have no other than the
Phoenician version of the event. But Carmel, itself the scene of Yahweh’s
victory over Baal, and the break of the drought, belonged at times to the
province of Tyre. Elisha goes thither, even as Elijah stays near Sidon.
Phoenicians and Israelites, like the later Jews and Egyptians, were not
unacquainted with each other’s history; and it is difficult to believe that the
Phoenician and Israelite traditions are unrelated. So far from Menander’s
simple statement being the Phoenician retort to the complex biblical
traditions, it is more likely that he has preserved the older tradition.
Instead of a one year’s drought broken by the prayers of Ahab’s father-inlaw
to Baal, the loyal Israelite knew of a three years’ affliction removed by
Yahweh; indeed, the part attributed to Elijah and his intense concentration
upon the desired effect, really implies that Elijah, the servant of Yahweh, and
not Ethbaal, the priest-king of Astarte, was the real rain-maker.
The age was one of religious and social evils. The
northern alliance against Assyria, of which Israel was so valuable a member,
must have weakened the land, and Assyria would have an interest in fomenting
attacks upon Israel, utilizing, as was her wont, the tribes of the desert. And
while Omri’s victories over Moab had once proved the might of Yahweh, now
Chemosh, the god of Moab, was showing himself the stronger, and traditions
emphasize the lack of faith in Israel. There were bloody reforms —subsequently
to be denounced by the prophet Hosea— and the prominence of the Rechabites,
Elijah’s theophany at Horeb, together with the traditions of attacks from the south,
point, as we have seen, to upheavals in which desert and, especially, southern
influences were conspicuous. In due course, Elijah came to rank as the greatest
personality next to Moses—both alike mysterious in their death—his age became,
perhaps, the greatest landmark since the days of Mosaism.
Elijah’s visit to the cave at Horeb (or Sinai) recalls
that of Moses at Horeb[II], and just as Horeb (Sinai) was once the scene of a
gathering of tribes about to invade the land of an effete civilization, so Elijah’s
visit is associated with great movements and sweeping changes which radically
altered history. Accordingly, the events illustrate and supplement one another,
though the extent of the movements in the age of Elijah can hardly be guessed.
But if Mosaism is rightly interpreted as a new stage in the religion of
Palestine, this is no less true of the work of Elijah. The accounts of his age
suggest a new religious enthusiasm of desert origin, they recall the stories of
the sanguinary zeal of the Levites; and it must be borne in mind that the
account of the birth of Mosaism is, in its present form, much later than the
age now under discussion. The actual events of the age of Elijah were nearer to
the writers than those of the days of Moses, some five or more centuries
earlier. Hence, not only are there important points of resemblance between the
traditions of Moses and those of Elijah, not only do we find hints of a
movement in the age of Jehu’s rise which we can interpret in the light of the
traditions of the Israelite conquest, but the traditions of the Elijah-age come
down to use in sources older, to some extent, than those of the age of Moses.
Elijah (‘Yah[weh] is God’)
became in tradition the one who was to prepare the way for the cataclysm which
should usher in a new age. The theophany at Horeb foreshadows an age of blood
and iron. Yet the course of events was not as heralded: Hazael of Damascus
followed Jehu and we know nothing of the sword of Elisha. Unless we acquiesce
in the discrepancies, we may suppose that our varied narratives represent a few
only of the particular traditions that came to prevail, and that there were
others which ran along the lines of the message, and perhaps united Hazael,
Jehu and Elisha against the old dynasties of Damascus and Samaria. It was an
age to call forth the activities of prophets: the conflicts with
Philistines—not to mention others—would not fail to leave their traditions; the
age was a crowded one. Yet really little has survived, and we have no
independent witness until we reach the middle of the eighth century. While
hints abound of movements and invasions, of desert influences, and puritanical
and fierce reforms, the canonical history concentrates upon the earlier
periods; it has no room for more than one great invasion, one great religious
inauguration, even as we shall find that only one fall of Jerusalem could be
allowed. All the great epoch-making changes are relegated to the past, and the
continuity of the history seems to be maintained intact. On the other hand, the
closer study of the years from the time of Ahab to the accession of Jehu
enhances the fact that we have here a landmark in the history of Palestine. We
can recognize the inauguration of a new stage through influences hostile to the
civilization of the land. There are internal changes of a social and political
nature, due to some extent to movements influenced by the desert, and analogous
to those which we associate with the Israelite invasion, although the account
of that event is later than the age now under discussion. The more decisive the
changes that were made during these stormy years, the more difficult it becomes
to estimate the records of the preceding ages, which in their present form date
from a much later time; and it is for this reason that the period is of such
outstanding importance for our understanding of the biblical narratives. When
properly understood it is a new starting-point, perhaps the most tangible clue
to the social and political development of Israel that we have yet found in our
survey.
III.
THE DYNASTY OF JEHU
Among the states which profited by Israel’s troubles
was Moab, of whose king Mesha we possess a contemporary record discovered in
1868 at Dhiban (O.T. Dibon), four miles north of the Arnon. It is the oldest
historical inscription written in the ancient north Semitic character, the most
valuable monument of ancient Palestinian history, and its language and
phraseology differ only slightly from Hebrew. The style of the inscription
indicates that Moab was no rude land; the same could no doubt be said also of
Edom, Ammon and other states. In it Mesha, a wealthy sheepowner, who had been
forced to pay a heavy tribute of wool to Ephraim, tells how, through the help
of his god Chemosh, he recovered his cities, particularly those north of the
Arnon, and sacked the Israelite sanctuary at Nebo, devoting 7000 inhabitants to
Ashtor-Chemosh. To commemorate his victory he built a ‘high-place’ to Chemosh
in Kerekhoh (the vocalization of all the names is uncertain), possibly a suburb
of his city, like the Zion of Jerusalem. The inscription runs as follows:
“I am Mesha, son of Chemosh[kan?],
king of Moab, the Daibonite. My father reigned over Moab for thirty years, and
I reigned after my father. And I made this high-place for Chemosh in Kerekhoh a
(?) high-place of salvation, because he had saved me from all assailants (?),
and because he had let me see my pleasure upon all them that hated me. Omri was
king of Israel, and he afflicted Moab for many days, for Chemosh was being angry
with his land. And his son (i.e.
Ahab) succeeded him, and he also said, I will afflict Moab.
In my days said he [thus], and I saw my pleasure on him and his house. And
Israel perished with an everlasting destruction; now Omri had taken possession
of the land of Mehdeba. And it (i.e.
Israel) dwelt therein his days (viz. 12 years) and half the days of his son (or
sons) 40 years; and Chemosh restored it in my days. And I built Baal-Meon, and
I made in it the reservoir; and I bui[It] Kiryathen.
Now the men of Gad had dwelt in the land of Ataroth from of old; and the king
of Israel built for himself Ataroth. And I warred against the city and seized
it. And I slew all the people of the city, a gazing-stock to Chemosh and to
Moab. And I captured thence the altar-hearth of Dawdoh, and I dragged it before
Chemosh in Keriyyoth. And I settled therein the men of Sheren (?Sharon) and the men of Makharath (?). And Chemosh said unto
me, Go, seize Nebo against Israel. And I went by night and warred against it
from the break of dawn unto noon. And I seized it, and slew all of it, 7000 men
and male sojourners (or lads), and women and female sojourners (or lasses) and
maidens (? slaves). For to ‘Ashtor-Chemosh had I devoted it (‘utterly
destroyed’). And I took thence the vessels of Yahweh, and I dragged them before
Chemosh. Now the king of Israel had built Yahas (Jahaz), and dwelt in it, when
he warred against me. And Chemosh drove him out from before me; and I took of Moab
200 men, all its chiefs (? or poor ones). And I brought it (i.e. them) against Yahas, and seized it,
to add it unto Daibon. I built Kerekhoh, the wall of the Woods (or Yearin) and
the wall of the Mound (or ‘Ophel). And I built its gates, and I built its
towers. And I built the king’s house and I made the two (?) reservoirs for
water in the midst of the city. Now there was no cistern in the midst of the
city, in Kerekhoh; and I said to all the people, Make you every man a cistern in his house. And I cut out the cutting for Kerekhoh
with the prisoners of Israel. And I built ‘roer, and I made the highway by the
Arnon. I built Beth-Bamoth, for it was overthrown. I built Beser, for ruins had
it become. And the chiejfs of Daibon were fifty (? or in battle array); for all
Daibon was obedient. And I reigned (?) (over) an
hundred [chiefs?] in the cities (?) which I added to the land. And I built
Mehdeba (?), and Beth-Diblathen. And Beth-Baal-Meon; and I took thence the
nakad-keepers (? ‘sheep-master’), the sheep of the land. And as for Horonen, there dwelt therein and Chemosh said unto me, Go down,
fight against Horonen. And I went down… and Chemosh restored it in my days”
The inscription dates after the weakness of Israel,
but whether it is just before or after the rise of Jehu it is difficult to
determine. In 841 BC Jehu, together with Tyre and Sidon, paid tribute to
Shalmaneser. Jehu is called ‘son of Omri,’ an abbreviation of the fuller ‘son
(inhabitant) of Beth-Omri (i.e.
Israel)’. Hazael, who is called the ‘son of a nobody’,
was bearing the full weight of the Assyrian attack in 841, and in 837 lost only
four cities. Tribute was then received from Tyre, Sidon and Byblus (Palestine
is not mentioned), and an inscription found at Ashur records ‘booty from the
temple of the god Sher of Malakha, residence of Hazael of Damascus’. No doubt
Damascus still had Ammon as an ally, and was a force not to be despised.
Through some unknown cause the two usurpers, Hazael
and Jehu, who had ascended the throne together and in similar circumstances
became bitter foes. ‘In those days Yahweh began to cut short Israel’; and
Hazael smote them on both sides of the Jordan. Under Jehu’s successor Jehoahaz
(? 816 BC) Hazael and his son Ben-Hadad redoubled their efforts, and the
coastal plain fell into their hands. Ephraim’s chariots and horsemen were
almost wiped out, and in spite of a temporary relief by some ‘deliverer’ the
land became like dust in the threshing. The Judaean annals agree in so far as
they record that Hazael reached Gath, and only a prompt bribe by Joash saved
Jerusalem. Whatever happened, Judah, at all events, evidently suffered only
slightly, and it is not improbable that the timely payment by Joash conveyed a
hint to Damascus to concentrate upon Ephraim. Joash perished in a conspiracy
and was succeeded by Amaziah, of whom it is recorded that he slew only the
actual murderers of his father. Whatever internal changes lay behind the sparse
notices, it is clear that Amaziah was strong enough to recover Edom, and for a
time Judah was in a much better position than Ephraim.
In Phoenicia, internal strife in the reign of
Pygmalion drove away Elissa (Dido), and she founded Carthage (? 822 BC) on the
site of an earlier trading-station (Cambe or Caccabe). In Ephraim Amaziah’s
contemporary, with the familiar name of Jehoash (Joash), had some successes
against Damascus. The last scene in the life of Elisha tells of the king’s
visit to him who had been the ‘chariots and horsemen of Israel,’ words to be
illustrated by stories of his achievements now placed before the rise of the
Jehu-dynasty. With his own wonder-working hands upon
the king’s hands the dying prophet bade Joash shoot Yahweh’s arrow of victory
over Syria and smite the ground with the arrows. Thrice only he smote, and only
three victories were granted him; had he smitten five or six times, the enemy
would have been destroyed.
So died the man who raised up
the dynasties of Jehu and Hazael, and foresaw the excesses that Damascus would
perpetrate. And in truth the brief details of invasion and unforgettable
cruelty, still fresh in the days of Amos, indicate situations which can be
interpreted by those stories of Elisha’s high position at court and of his
powerful aid which now swell the present account of the age of Elijah. For to
these later years does Micaiah’s vision of the distress of Israel best apply. It was Joash who defeated Ben-Hadad and regained the
territory which his father had lost; and here belong most suitably the defeat
of Damascus and the treaty referred to in 1 Kings XX, 34 (anonymous). With
Elisha’s wrath at the failure of Joash to press his opportunity accords the
anonymous denunciation of the unnamed king who let slip out of his hand the
man whom Yahweh had devoted to destruction. It required little insight to
perceive that it was folly to rely upon the temporary weakness of a Damascus
which could so valiantly withstand Assyria, but events were soon to prove that
Damascus, though now the foe of Ephraim, was a buffer the removal of which
would open the road for Assyria to Palestine and Egypt.
The western states could never combine for long. As we
learn from the very difficult but valuable north Semitic inscription of Kilamu
king of Yadi (pronunciation of both unknown), they were ready to ‘hire the king
of Assyria’ (cf. the ‘hired razor’) one against the other, and Assyria was
always prompt to suspect and to counter hostile alliances.
Some further light is thrown upon the period by an
interesting stele found in north Syria in 1903. A usurper with the good Semitic
name of Zakir or Zakar (cf. the names Zaccur, Zechariah), became king of Hamath
and Laash (? near Damascus), and erected this stele to his god El-wad (?) to
commemorate his victories over a confederation of Aramaean kings led by
Bar-Hadad, son of Hazael, king of Aram. Here are kings of Kue, Amk
(Coele-Syria, or perhaps Antioch), Gurgum, Samal (near the Gulf of
Alexandretta), Malaz (Malatia), and some ten others. ‘All these kings laid
siege against Hazrak, and raised a wall higher than the wall of Hazrak, and
made a trench deeper than its trench. And I lifted up my hands to the Baal of
Heaven, and he answered me, and spoke to me by the hand of seers and
calculators (?).... Fear not, for I have made thee king, and I will stand by
thee, and I will deliver thee from all these kings who have made siegeworks
against thee... The king of Hamath goes on to record his work of fortification
and temple-building, and concludes in the familiar manner with an imprecation
on all who removed the stele. He, it would seem, was supporting the Assyrian
cause, and it is possible that his victory over Bar-Hadad’s coalition— which,
of course, would relieve the pressure upon Ephraim— was facilitated by Adad-Nirari’s
campaign in the west (c. 805—2). At all events, the king of Damascus, Mari’
(perhaps a title, ‘the lord,’ or else the son of Bar-Hadad), was besieged, and
the Assyrian king records the subjugation of the lands of Hatti and Amor. It
was on this occasion that Adad-Nirari received the tribute of Tyre and Sidon,
the ‘land of Omri,’ Edom and ‘Palashtu’ (Philistia). We have here the first
independent reference to the Philistine coastland as a political unit. Both it
and Edom (also the first occurrence) are autonomous. But the continued absence
of Judah is as striking as it was in the alliance against Shalmaneser at
Karkar. Was it included as a vassal of Beth-Omri? or was Judah, like Hamath under Zakar, pro-Assyrian, and, it may be, profiting
from the patronage of Assyria? Whatever be the explanation, Ephraim, under
Jehoahaz, had found a ‘deliverer’ —possibly in the defeat of Damascus by Zakar,
or in the attack of Adad-Nirari (whose name means ‘Adad is a help’) upon
Damascus: the chronology does not permit a certain decision.
Amaziah of Judah, flushed
after his victories over Edom, challenged the Ephraimite Joash and at once
received a typically Oriental taunt: the thistle was advised to refrain from
meddling with the cedar of Lebanon. The two met at Beth-shemesh (on the
Jerusalem-Jaffa road), and Amaziah was captured. Marching to Jerusalem, Joash
broke down part of the northern wall, looted palace and temple, and carried off
hostages. The treatment is a most significant hint of the embittered relations
which had evidently preceded. Judah had been
practically a vassal of Ephraim during the Omri dynasty; it had escaped the
Aramaean wars. It may be that Jehu himself on his accession had sought and
failed to maintain Ephraim’s superiority over the south, and that there had
been friction: the relations between Ephraim and Judah are obscure. Or it may
be that Judah, threatened by Ephraim, as once before in the days of Asa, had
bribed the Aramaeans to attack the north. All that can be said is that in some
way Jerusalem had come to merit drastic reprisals, and that Ephraim won the
day. Once more we are unable to trace the events. A conspiracy in Jerusalem
forced Amaziah to flee to Lachish (Tell el-Hesy, about 35 miles south-west of
Jerusalem), where he was followed and slain; but the chronological notices
leave it uncertain whether Amaziah reigned fifteen years after the death of
Joash, or whether Joash’s son, the great king Jeroboam II, had reigned
twenty-seven of his forty years before Azariah (or Uzziah), the no less famous
son of Amaziah, became king of Judah as the popular choice. It would seem that
for a time Judah had no king of its own. Ephraim in its turn had witnessed dark
days. Joash of Ephraim had gained his three victories over Damascus, he had
recovered his cities; but in due course the Aramaeans returned to the attack.
Then, when Ephraim almost succumbed, ‘Yahweh saw the very bitter affliction of
Israel’; ‘there was no helper for Israel,’ but Yahweh did not intend to blot
out the name of Israel from beneath the heavens, so he saved them by the hand
of Jeroboam II. Jeroboam was the real deliverer of Ephraim, and, whatever the
true relations were between north and south, for some years, at least (after c.
790— 785), he and Uzziah were evidently contemporary, and the fortunes of the
two kingdoms were at their highest.
The circumstances that permitted this new prominence
of Israel can perhaps be conjectured. During these years Shalmaneser IV had
been endeavouring to subdue Damascus (773) and Hatarika (Hazrak, 773—2); while
his successor, Ashur-Dan III, warred against both the latter (765 and 755), and
the Phoenician Arpad (754). The great protagonists were Assyria, on the one
hand, and, on the other, the old heirs of Hittite or Mitannian tradition whose
centre was in Urartu (O.T. Ararat) or Van. Syria was always exposed to
influences from Asia Minor and Armenia, and significant political developments
outside her doors usually found an echo within. Ambitious plans were being
developed by Urartu against a weak Assyria; and for the key to some of the
movements in Syria and Palestine we have to look to the north. Egypt was
probably unable to play any controlling part in Palestine and Syria. It is
possible that it was the Assyrian campaigns in the north that relieved Israel
and first enabled Jeroboam to ‘restore the boundary of Israel’ from the
‘approach to Hamath’ (probably the pass between Hermon and Lebanon) to the Dead
Sea. The possession of Lo-debar (as though ‘a thing of nought’) and of Karnaim
(‘horns’), in Gilead beyond the Jordan, is perhaps punningly alluded to by
Amos. In Judah Uzziah’s reign was not less brilliant. The Edomite port on the
Gulf of Akabah was recovered, and the Chronicler, consistently with the
situation, tells of fights against Philistines, Arabians, and the people of
Ma’in (south-east of Petra). The coast-land was secured, and tribute received
even from Ammon: Moab, however, is not mentioned. Much is made of Uzziah’s
military plans, his fortifications and his strengthening of the (? western)
defences of Jerusalem. Under the two kings the Hebrew monarchies extended to
their utmost limits—thanks, mainly, to the weakness of Assyria—but upon the
all-important question of the relation between them we have no information.
Jeroboam’s restoration of Israel is associated with
the activity of the prophet Jonah of Zebulun, a district bordering upon the
Aramaeans. The canonical book of this name is of a man divinely commissioned to
denounce Nineveh for its sins; it is now recognized as a quite late Midrash or
didactic story. On the other hand, it is not unlikely that it is based on some
genuine tradition of interrelations between Ephraim and Nineveh. In any event,
the age which we are now approaching was one when relations between Israel and
Assyria became closer than ever they had been before. It is difficult to
understand the statement that Jeroboam ‘recovered Damascus and Hamath (? which
had belonged) to Judah for (or in?) Israel’. We have no evidence that Judah
under Uzziah (Azariah) had territory so far north. It is true that the Assyrian
records refer to a certain Az-ri-ya-u (Azariah) of Ya’udi, who headed a
Hamathite league against Tiglath-Pileser III in 738. But there are serious
chronological and other difficulties in connecting the two, although relations
between Judah and Hamath were traditional, and some kings of Hamath bear names
of ‘Hebrew’ type (Zakar) or compounded with the divine name Yahweh. All that
can safely be said, however, is that the successes of both Jeroboam and Uzziah
were no doubt bound up with the far greater political movements in which were
involved Assyria, Urartu and Damascus; and it is significant that the
contemporary prophet Amos hints ominously at the part Assyria was about to take
in changing the face of Ephraimite history. For a new Assyria was arising under
Tiglath-Pileser.
Amos is the first of the great prophets whose writings
have survived. They are our earliest picture of internal conditions. Amos
himself was a shepherd, also a ‘dresser’ (nipper) of sycamore figs; and his
words are dated two years before a certain earthquake which long continued to
be remembered. An eclipse which he is supposed to have seen has been calculated
to be that of June 15, 763. Like many a rude Arab orator of later days, he
possessed a perfect command of language, a breadth of view, and a wealth of
passion. Yet his Hebrew is simpler and easier than that of most prophets. He
was proud that he was no professional prophet: Yahweh, who declares his words
unto his servants, had called him, and who could keep silent? Damascus and
Ammon had been guilty of the barbarities of Oriental warfare; Gaza, Ashdod and
other Philistine cities had carried off whole communities, and sold them as
slaves. Tyre had forgotten its alliance with its ‘brother’ Israel, and had
handed over people to Edom—the trade extends along the coastal plain into south
Palestine and north Arabia. Edom also had pitilessly pursued his own ‘brother’
with the sword, and Moab had perpetrated what was a gross indignity upon the
bones of the king of Edom. ‘For three transgressions and for four, I will not
turn it back’—and wise men knew what was impending. Judah and Israel, in their
turn, if not responsible for such conspicuous offences as those pilloried, were
no less guilty; and their religious, moral and social evils were bringing upon
them the inevitable penalty. A nation—it is not explicitly named—was about to
afflict Israel (the northern kingdom) from the approach to Hamath unto the Dead
Sea. So Amos describes the careless indifference of the people, the serene
foolish confidence for which there was no justification, and the unwarrantable
reliance upon the national religion. It was his mission to proclaim that Yahweh
was the god of other peoples besides Israel, and Israel’s conviction of a
special relationship with this god only involved a higher standard by which she
would be judged. The stern reformer saw the rottenness beneath the religious,
social and political brilliance of the age, and the shepherd of Tekoa is an
epoch-maker who stands at the head of the succession of prophets who made
Israel unique.
IV.
ASSYRIA AND THE FALL OF EPHRAIM
With the death of Jeroboam (? 745) the northern
kingdom entered upon its last years. His son Zechariah was slain six months
later by Shallum of Jabesh, and the dynasty of Jehu perished, as it began, in
blood, like that of Omri before it. Only a month and Shallum was slain by
Menahem, perhaps a Gadite, who after ferocious fighting made himself king. The
internal situation, as manifested in the writings of the prophet Hosea, was
desperate: ‘the bloodshed of Jezreel’ was indeed visited upon the house of
Jehu. What part was played in these fierce conflicts by Judah, then under
Uzziah’s little-known son Jotham, cannot be conjectured, though the Chronicler
knows of some, perhaps temporary, conquest of Ammon. A strong anti-Assyrian
movement in Syria, engineered by Urartu, was crushed by Tiglath-Pileser, who,
after taking Arpad, reached the Mediterranean. Tribute was received from Kue,
Carchemish, Damascus (under Rasun, O.T. Rezin), Tyre (under Hiram), Byblus, and
the Arabs of the Syrian desert. Menahem of Samaria,
who is also in the list, gained the recognition of Assyria by the payment of 1000
talents of silver which he raised by levying a payment of fifty shekels upon
all the better-class inhabitants, who, accordingly, must have numbered about
60.000. Ten years later his son Pekahiah, of whom nothing is known, was slain
by Pekah ben Remaliah in what was apparently a Gileadite and anti-Assyrian
revolt, inspired, it may be, by Urartu.
(On chronological and other grounds it is not unlikely
that through some misunderstanding the two kings Pekahiah and Pekah have arisen
out of one.)
When at last we hear something of Judah we find
ourselves in the midst of fierce and far-reaching conflicts. Pekah and Rezon
had joined forces in a great attack upon Judah, where Jotham was being
succeeded by Ahaz (or Jehoahaz, as the Assyrian form suggests). Judah was
hard-pressed. Ammon was presumably hostile; and in the south Edom recovered the
port of Elath, while Philistia attacked the Judaean lowlands. These are
suggestive indications of Judah’s earlier strength under Uzziah. It is strange
that Egypt is not mentioned. The Syro-Ephraimite army marched against Jerusalem, and the Chronicler records a great slaughter and
the removal to Damascus of large bodies of captives. The scene is illumined by
the prophet Isaiah. The house of David, threatened by the enemy, was seized
with panic, and the hearts of the people shook like the trees of the forest
before the wind. With hopeful words the court-prophet Isaiah sought to
encourage Judah, while expressing his contempt for the weak Pekah and Rezon,
the ‘fag-ends of smoking logs.’ With one of his characteristic ringing
utterances he called to confidence in Yahweh: ‘if ye will not confide ye shall
not abide’, or, ‘if ye have not faith ye cannot hath staith’. The timidity of
Ahaz gave rise to the famous-sign,’ still a subject of discussion: a young
woman should bear a son, and give him the significant name, Immanuel (‘God with
us’); the babe would not lack good food, and in a few years’ time the land of
the two kings of whom Ahaz was in deadly fear would itself be desolate. The
doom of Damascus and Samaria was imminent, and, as another ‘sign’, it was
declared that Isaiah would have a son who should be called ‘Hasten-booty,
Speedspoil’, for before he was old enough to recognize his parents, the riches
of Damascus and the spoil of Samaria would be carried off by the king of
Assyria.
But Ahaz had confidence neither in his own power nor
in Yahweh, and with gifts he is said to have bought the help which Assyria in
any case would have been only too ready to offer. Accordingly, Tiglath-Pileser
came to him, though the consequences were hardly those that he had anticipated.
Practically all the western states were up in arms against Assyria, but their
efforts were in vain. Syria and Phoenicia were deliberately ravaged. Damascus
fell in 732, and Ephraim’s fate was sealed. The O.T. knows of the depopulation
of north Palestine (Kadesh, Galilee, Naphtali), and the deportation of men of
Reuben, Gad, and other Trans-Jordanic tribes. The Assyrian records name, inter
alia, the old cities of Merom, by Lake Huleh, and Khinnatun. Samsi, queen of Aribi
(Arabia, or the Syrian desert), who had broken her oath by Shamash, and the
tribes of Bira, Badan (Pliny’s Badanatha), Masa, and Tema (in north Arabia),
Hatti (hardly the neo-Hittites), Sabaeans and Idiba’il (Adbeel), brought their
tribute of gold and silver, camels and perfumes. Hanun king of Gaza fled to
Musri, and Tiglath-Pileser carried off his possessions and his gods. At Askalon
the rebel Mitinti was replaced by his brother Rukibtu, and fifteen of his
cities were handed over to Idibi’il of‘Arabia,’ who was appointed to watch
Musri. This prominence of desert tribes of north Arabia and the Syrian desert is one of the most striking facts of the age.
Meanwhile, Samaria was in a state of anarchy; the
anti-Assyrian Pekah was slain by Hoshea ben Elah—Tiglath-Pileser claims the
responsibility for the deed—and a heavy tribute was imposed upon him. Among
other tributaries were Shalaman of Moab, Sanip of Ammon, Kaush-Melek of Edom
and Hanun of Gaza. Ahaz himself was now a protégé of Assyria, and the almost contemporary
inscriptions of the House of Panammu in north Syria usefully illustrate the
ordinary relations between a loyal vassal and his suzerain. Here Bar-Rekub
tells how his father Panammu ‘laid hold of the skirt of his lord’, and ‘ran at
the wheel’ of the king in his campaigns east and west. When he died at Damascus
the whole camp bewailed him, and ‘because of the loyalty of my father and my
own loyalty, my lord Rekub-el (i.e. the god) and my lord Tiglath-Pileser seated me on the throne of my father’. Ahaz,
too, must go to Damascus to pay homage, and he sent back a copy of the altar
there, which was duly erected in the temple of Jerusalem, the efficacy of the
old brazen altar being ceremonially transferred to it. The Chronicler expresses
the interesting opinion that Ahaz sacrificed to the gods of Damascus because
they were the stronger1; but, although Syrian gods were perhaps taken into
Ephraim subsequently, it is more likely that subordination to Assyria involved
some tangible recognition of Assyrian rather than of Syrian religion. The
conquests of Assyria spread the cult of the national god Ashur, and this would
naturally involve the introduction of Assyrian gods (as happened in the case of
the rebellious city of Gaza), or some intelligible coordination of the gods of
the suzerain and of the vassal states.
Damascus fell in 732 b.c.
Rezon was slain and the chief of the people deported (to Kir). Tyre capitulated
(under Metenna) and paid 150 talents of gold, though its next king, the
powerful Luli (Elulaeus), joined in a fresh intrigue against Assyria. The
downfall of Syria removed the ancient bulwark against aggression from the
north, but Ephraim did not permit itself to be seriously disturbed. The bricks
had fallen, but they would use hewn stone; the sycamores were cut down, but
they would replace them by cedars. The careless land was rent into two
factions; without stability or policy, it was sending ‘love-gifts’ to secure
alliances, and vacillating between Egypt and Assyria—like a ‘foolish dove’. In
727 a change on the Assyrian throne gave the signal for open revolt. Hoshea
threw off allegiance and is said to have carried on a secret intrigue with So, or rather, Seve, king of Mizraim. After, perhaps, a
preliminary campaign against Tyre, Shalmaneser came down and besieged the
defaulter. The order of events is not quite clear; but the actual fall of
Samaria was achieved by Sargon (722 BC), who deported 27,290 people and placed
the land under an Assyrian officer, the tribute formerly paid by Hoshea being
reimposed. Thus the northern kingdom came to an end. Yet another widespread
revolt broke out in 720. In it participated Ilu-bi’di (or Yau-bi’di) of Hamath,
the kings of Damascus, the coastland and Arabia, and Sib’e (Seve) of Musri. Two
decisive battles were fought: one in the north, at Karkar, already famous for
the battle of 853, the other at Raphia, on the southern border, south of Gaza.
Hanun of Gaza, who had again rebelled, was captured, but Sibe escaped. Tribute
of gold, camels and horses was received from Piru (? the Pharaoh) of Musri, Samsi
queen of ‘Arabia,’ and Itamar the Sabaean. Unrest, however, continued among the
desert tribes, and a few years later, in 715, Sargon, possibly in order to
secure the southern trade-routes, defeated and deported to the ‘House of Omri’
(Ephraim) tribes of_Tamud (Thamud), Ibadid, Marsiman, Khayapa (the Midianite
Ephah,), and the ‘distant Arabs’ of the desert.
As the northern states gradually decreased in power,
the bedouin tribes and the peoples of Arabia proper were gaining political
importance. It is the distinctive feature of the period, and it has brought
with it the problem of the precise application of the term Mizraim (Heb.
Misrayim, Ass. Musri), which is usually rendered
‘Egypt’. But could Egypt proper play the part ascribed to her? She was not the
powerful Egypt of old, nor was she so influential as
subsequently under the Saite dynasty. Would a sheikh of ‘Arabia’ (viz.
Idibi’il) be naturally appointed to watch her? The prominence of the Delta, the
political importance of Edom (at times, however, unaccountably absent), and the
various references to ‘Arabs,’ Sabaeans, etc., allow us to conclude that, in
any case, there would be close interrelations between Egypt proper and north
Arabia. Again, the fact that Hagar (cf. the Arab Hagarenes), the ‘mother’ of
Ishmaelite tribes, is called an ‘Egyptian’—not to mention other data—makes it
entirely probable that the name Mizraim (Musri) could and did extend eastwards
at least to the south of Palestine, just as, centuries later, the Delta had an
‘Arabian’ nome. Egyptian influence easily flowed eastward, and a natural
eastern border runs from the Wadi el-Arish (the ‘River of Egypt’) to the Gulf
of Akabah. Hence, although the opinion of scholars is definitely opposed to
far-reaching speculations of an independent Mizraim, as a political unit, in
north Arabia, the theory of a non-Egyptian Mizraim, or Musri, cannot be
definitely rejected.
Besides the growing power of the desert and Arabian
tribes, the fact that Sargon settled some of them in the land of Samaria is of
capital importance. It meant the entry of a purer, fresher stock, with desert
and nomadic ideas, into a land of old, and—to judge from the prophets—of
decadent civilization. These tribes would, of course, have their own
traditions, and their own views of the circumstances which now enabled them—we
may suppose— to possess cities they had not built and vineyards they had not
planted. If it could be said that Sargon’s god had brought them there, the god
Ashur was no mean one. Indeed, when Sennacherib claims to have been sent
against Judah by Yahweh, it is easy to see how the new emigrants might even be
led to ascribe their presence to Yahweh himself. Whatever may have happened
more than a century earlier in the age of Elijah, many of the vicissitudes
which we commonly associate with the entry of Israelite tribes from the desert
would again occur at this period, and the recollection of these later events
would naturally be more lively than that of the invasion of Israel which
happened many centuries before. Moreover, not only is this the second great
recognizable landmark in the internal history of the land, but we are now
entering a period of unparalleled political and social disintegration. In Syria
and Palestine Sargon, it is said, deported Israelites to Assyria, Halah (? near
Harran), Gozan (near Nisibis) and. Men of Babylonia, Assyria and Urartu had
been settled in Syria; and into Samaria itself there were introduced at one
time or another, besides the desert tribes mentioned above, communities from
Cuthah, Babylonia, Sippar (or Sibraim), Susa and Elam. A priest of Bethel, the
old rival city of Jerusalem, was indeed sent back to inculcate the worship of
Yahweh; but new gods were introduced, with mixed cults of Babylonian and Syrian
origin. Deportation did not necessarily mean captivity; to an oppressed and
impoverished people it might hold out hopes of more food. It was a deliberate
policy for the purpose of breaking up old alliances, of introducing strangers (who
in some cases would have Assyrian sympathies), and of inaugurating new
conditions more favourable to Assyrian ambitions of empire. It is difficult to
estimate adequately the significance of this dislocation; but it at least
involved a destruction of religious, social and political bonds, more drastic
than any that had preceded. No doubt the Assyrian
conquests only hastened the end of decaying Semitic states; but the old
conditions were swept away, old landmarks disappeared, old local and national
feelings were dissolved. Buffer states were destroyed, the fall of Aramaean
kingdoms weakened Ephraim, and her fall exposed Judah; the decline of Urartu
opened the road to Scythian and other hordes. New situations began to
arise—Media, for example, was now being born. The age in which we now find
ourselves marks a decisive break between the old order and the new: the old
Egypto-Semitic world is dying, and the stage is being prepared for the dawn of
the Persian and Greek world.
While the external and contemporary evidence compels
us to regard the period as one of vital importance for subsequent history, its
real significance could hardly have been recognized had we been confined to the
pages of the Old Testament. This is one of the most conspicuous contributions of
the monuments to the interpretation of Ancient History. The prophets, it is
true, had seen old age creeping over Ephraim; if her downfall was inevitable,
haply Judah might take warning. The fate of Samaria is treated by the later
historians as the fruits of the original schism of Jeroboam I, as the penalty
for apostasy from Yahweh, or for disobedience to the law of Moses. All the northern tribes, it was believed, had been carried off—the
enquiry into their fate has been one of the curiosities of learned and other
research; it has been forgotten that they were probably soon swallowed up in
their new homes. Yet, in spite of the deportation of Israel to Assyria and
elsewhere, the old territorial and tribal names would neither be removed, nor
would they disappear from memory at once. The old names would have a new
content. The entry of colonists might make a break in the continuity of
tradition, yet there could be intermarriage (as between Israelites and
Canaanites), and their descendants might in time be regarded as truly
Israelite, even as the semi-Edomite clans that entered Judah were reckoned as
Israelites. The new-comers might identify themselves with the old local
traditions, as Josephus definitely says of the later Samaritans themselves; and
it is commonly agreed that, earlier, the Israelites took over traditions from
the Canaanites. Moreover, the facility with which the northern tribes continued
to be named in much later tradition can hardly be due to antiquarian interest
in tribes which centuries earlier had left their native soil. Not only was the
deportation not a complete one, but we shall find in the sixth century
indications of a more than sympathetic intercourse between Judah and the
somewhat mixed north. In other words, a new Israel is being formed—a fact of
the greatest importance for our estimate of biblical history.
The Israelites were Hebrews, and not only is this a
much wider term than Israel, but Hebrew names and connections can be traced in
Hamath and, to judge from Assyrian contract-tablets, in the neighbourhood of
Harran. Moreover, Israelites in exile did not necessarily lose touch with the
homeland. On the other hand, in course of time the view came to prevail that
(north) Israel was unclean. Judah was the sole heir of the old Israelite
tradition, and the north was unworthy to participate. It is necessary,
therefore, to recognize that in the O.T. we are looking at history through the
eyes of men who cherished a deep antipathy to the Samaritans. And not only
this, there were Judaeans who even felt themselves to be of a purer strain than
the rest. A more or less intense exclusiveness pervades the biblical narrative,
and the idea of a community of tribes, all alike—even Judah—sons of Jacob
(Israel), was tolerated only for the distant past and for the glorious days of
David and Solomon. The close interrelations that subsisted during the Omri
dynasty, and no doubt at other times, were banished from memory: the schismatic
Jeroboam had taken the first step on the downward path, and with the fall of
the northern kingdom the history of (north) Israel came to an end. Hitherto the
annals of Judah and those of Israel had been kept separate—artificially,
arbitrarily so; and now that ‘Israel was carried away out of their own land’,
our sources are confined to the kingdom of Judah. Samaria lies outside the
horizon of the writers—it is almost non-existent. Only with the rise of modern
criticism have scholars gone behind the Jewish theory, recognizing that, in the
nature of things, intercourse between the two would not cease, and that such
was the history of south-west Asia after 722, that only a very imperfect view
of the subsequent development of Palestine can be gained from the scanty
records of Judah which now claim our attention.
CHAPTER XVIIITHE FALL AND RISE OF JUDAH |
CAMBRIDGE ANCIENT HISTORY. EDITED BY J. B. BURY - S. A. COOK - F. E. ADCOCK : VOLUME III |