Alan Lenzi - Jonathan Stökl. Divination, Politics and Ancient Near Eastern Empires

DIVINATION,
POLITICS, & Ancient

Near Eastern
Empires
Edited by
Alan Lenzi and Jonathan Stkl
Ancient Near East Monographs Monografas sobre el Antiguo Cercano Oriente

Society of Biblical Literature
Centro de Estudios de Historia del Antiguo Oriente (UCA)
Divination, Politics, and

Ancient Near Eastern Empires
Ancient Near East Monographs

General Editors
Ehud Ben Zvi
Roxana Flammini
Editorial Board
Reinhard Achenbach
Esther J. Hamori
Steven W. Holloway
Ren Krger
Alan Lenzi
Steven L. McKenzie
Martti Nissinen
Graciela Gestoso Singer
Juan Manuel Tebes
Volume Editor
Martti Nissinen
Number 7

Edited by
Alan Lenzi
Jonathan Stkl

Atlanta
Copyright 2014 by the Society of Biblical Literature

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Divination, politics, and ancient Near Eastern empires / edited by Alan Lenzi and Jonathan
Stokl.
pages cm. (Society of Biblical Literature ancient Near East monographs ; Volume 7)
Includes index.
ISBN 978-1-58983-996-0 (paper binding : alk. paper) ISBN 978-1-58983-998-4 (electronic
format) ISBN 978-1-58983-997-7 (hardcover binding : alk. paper)
1. DivinationMiddle EastHistory To 1500. 2. Mythology , Middle EasternHistoryTo
1500. 3. OccultismReligious aspectsJudaism. 4. Middle EastReligion. 5. Religion and
politicsMiddle EastHistoryTo 1500. 6. Assyro-Babylonian religion. I. Lenzi, Alan, editor
of compilation.
BL613.D59 2014
133.309394dc23

2014010036
Table of Contents
Introduction
Jonathan Stkl and Alan Lenzi
1. Propaganda, Prognostication, and Planets

Jeffrey L. Cooley
2. The King at the Crossroads between Divination and Cosmology

Beate Pongratz-Leisten
33
3. Divination as Warfare: The Use of Divination across Borders

Jonathan Stkl
49
4. Revisiting Biblical Prophecy, Revealed Knowledge Pertaining to Ritual,

and Secrecy in Light of Ancient Mesopotamian Prophetic Texts
Alan Lenzi
65
5. Chaoskampf against Empire: YHWHs Battle against Gog (Ezekiel 3839) as

Resistance Literature
C. A. Strine
87
6. Propagandistic Constructions of Empires in the Book of Isaiah

Gran Eidevall
109
7. The Theological Politics of Deutero-Isaiah

Joseph Blenkinsopp
129
8. The Yehudite Collection of Prophetic Books and Imperial Contexts:

Some Observations
Ehud Ben Zvi
145
9. Power, Politics, and Prophecy in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Second
Temple Judaism
Alex P. Jassen
171
Index of Ancient Texts
199
Contributors
209
List of Abbreviations
AB
AB
ABD
AbrNSup
AfO
AfOB
AJEC
AJSR
ANET
AOAT
AOS
ARM
ATD
BAK
BBR
BCSMS
BEATAJ
BET
BETL
Bib
BibIntSup
BibOr
BiOr
BIOSCS
BKAT
BMes
BNP
BPO 3
BZAW
CAD
CBET
CBQ
CBQMS
CDA
CDLJ
CDOG
CHANE
Anchor Bible Commentary Series

Assyriologische Bibliothek
Anchor Bible Dictionary, 6 vols.
Abr-Nahrain: Supplement Series
Archiv fr Orientforschung
Archiv fr Orientforschung Beiheft
Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity
Association for Jewish Studies Review
Pritchard, Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament
Alter Orient und Altes Testament
American Oriental Series
Archives Royales de Mari
Das Alte Testament Deutsch
Hunger, Babylonische und assyrische Kolophone
Zimmern, Beitrge zur Kenntinis der babylonischen Religion
Bulletin of the Canadian Society for Mesopotamian Studies
Beitrge zur Erforschung des Alten Testaments und des antiken
Judentum
Beitrge zur biblischen Exegese und Theologie
Bibliotheca Ephemeridum Theologicarum Lovaniensium
Biblica
Biblical Interpretation Supplement
Biblica et Orientalia
Bibliotheca Orientalis
Bulletin of the International Organization for Septuagint Studies
Biblischer Kommentar, Altes Testament
Bibliotheca mesopotamica
Brills New Pauly
Reiner and Pingree, Babylonian Planetary Omens, part three
Beihefte zur Zeitschrift fr die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft
Chicago Assyrian Dictionary
Contributions to Biblical Exegesis and Theology
Catholic Biblical Quarterly
Catholic Biblical Quarterly Monograph Series
Black, George, and Postgate, A Concise Dictionary of Akkadian
Cuneiform Digital Library Journal
Colloquium der Deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft
Culture and History of the Ancient Near East
vii
viii
DIVINATION, POLITICS, AND ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN EMPIRES
CM
ConBOT
COP
COS
CRRAI
CT
CTH
DDD
DJD
DNP
DSD
EE
ESHM
ET
FAT
FLP
FM
FOTL
FRLANT
Cuneiform Monographs
Coniectanea Biblica Old Testament Series
Cambridge Oriental Publications
Hallo and Younger, The Context of Scripture, 3 vols.
Compte Rendu, Rencontre Assyriologique Internationale
Cuneiform Texts from Babylonian Tablets in the British Museum, 54 Vols.
Laroche, Catalogue des textes hittites
van der Toorn et al, Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible
Discoveries in the Judaean Desert
Der neue Pauly: Enzyclopdie der Antike
Dead Sea Discoveries
Enma Eli
European Seminar on Historical Methodology
English Translation/Text
Forschungen zum Alten Testament
Tablet from The Free Library, Philadelphia
Florilegium marianum
Forms of Old Testament Literature
Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen
Testaments
Guides to the Mesopotamian Textual Record
History of the Ancient Near East Studies
Harvard Semitic Monographs
Harvard Theological Review
Bremer, Iurisprudentiae Antehadrianae, 2 vols.
Huschke, Iuriprudentiae Anteiustianae Reliquiae, 6th ed., 2 vols.
International Critical Commentary Series
Israel Exploration Journal
Journal of Ancient Near Eastern Religion
Journal of Ancient Near Eastern Religion
Journal of the American Oriental Society
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Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic, and Roman
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Supplements to the Journal for the Study of Judaism
Journal for the Study of the New Testament
Journal for the Study of the Old Testament
GMTR
HANES
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HTR
IAH
IAR6
ICC
IEJ
JANER
JANER
JAOS
JBL
JCS
JHebS
JJS
JNES
JSJ
JSJSup
JSNT
JSOT
ABBREVIATIONS
JSOTSup
JSS
KAT
KTU
LAPO
LHBOTS
LSTS
LXX
MARI
MC
MT
N.A.B.U.
NCBC
ND
NICOT
NovT
NRSV
OBO
OIP
OIS
Or
OTL
PAPS
PIHANS
PTSDSSP
RA
REB
RevQ
RINAP 4
RMA
SAA
SAA 2
SAA 3
SAA 4
SAA 8
SAA 9
SAA 10
SAA 12
SAA 13
SAA 16
ix
Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement Series

Journal of Semitic Studies
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Dietrich, Loretz, and Sanmartn, Die Keilalphabetischen Texte aus Ugarit
Littratures anciennes du Proche-Orient
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Library of Second Temple Studies
Septuagint
Mari: Annales de recherches interdisciplinaires
Mesopotamian Civilisations
Masoretic Text
Nouvelle assyriologique brves et Utilitaires
New Century Bible Commentary
Tablets from Nimrud
New International Commentary on the Old Testament
Novum Testamentum
New Revised Standard Version
Orbis biblicus et orientalis
Oriental Institute Publications
Oriental Institute Seminars
Orientalia, new series
Old Testament Library
Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society
Publications de lInstitut historique-archologique nerlandais de
Stamboul
Princeton Theological Seminary, Dead Sea Scrolls Project
Revue dassyriologie et darchologie orientale
Revised English Bible
Revue Qumran
Royal Inscriptions of the Neo-Assyrian Period, Leichty, Esarhaddon
Campbell-Thompson, Reports of the Magicians and Astrologers
State Archives of Assyria
Parpola and Watanabe, Neo-Assyrian Treaties and Loyalty Oaths
Livingstone, Court Poetry and Literary Miscellanea
Starr, Queries to the Sun God
Hunger, Astrological Reports to Assyrian Kings
Parpola, Assyrian Prophecies
Parpola, Letters from Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars
Kataja and Whiting, Grants, Decrees and Gifts of the Neo-Assyrian Period
Cole and Machinist, Letters from Priests
Luukko and van Buylaere, Political Correspondence of Esarhaddon
SAAB
SAACT
SAAS
SAAS
SBLMS
SBLSCS
SBLSymS
SBLWAW
SSN
STDJ
TBN
TCL
TCS
TDOT
TSAJ
VAS 10
VT
VTSup
WMANT
WO
WUNT
ZA
ZAW
State Archives of Assyria Bulletin

State Archives of Assyria Cuneiform Texts
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Vorderasiatische Schriftdenkmler 10
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Welt des Orients
Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament
Zeitschrift fr Assyriologie
Zeitschrift fr die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft
Introduction
Jonathan Stkl and Alan Lenzi
This volume is the result of a session of the Prophetic Texts in their Ancient
Contexts seminar at the 2011 national meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature
in San Francisco. The session was entitled Divination, Propaganda, and Empire.
The aim of the session was to clarify the context of prophecy and other forms of
divination within their respective political and/or theological empires. The essays
by Jeffrey Cooley, Beate Pongratz-Leisten, Gran Eidevall, Joseph Blenkinsopp, and
Ehud Ben Zvi in the present volume are revised versions of the original presentations in that session. To cover a wider spectrum of cases we invited Casey Strine
and Alex Jassen to contribute to the volume, and we both added contributions of
our own to the mix.
The question of how biblical and other ancient Near Eastern texts were shaped
by their political setting(s) within a number of political and theological empires is
extremely relevant in the current intellectual climate. Post-colonial theorists have
carried out very valuable work on this and related questions, which is mostly related to the way that texts were used by empire builders to justify their actions and
how those texts are read today in post-colonial settings.1
Similar questions are also being asked in more historically oriented research on
the empires of the ancient Near East, the territories which were ruled by them,
and the literatures produced therein. This volume is part of this larger enterprise.
The contributors examine divinatory texts of technical and intuitive origin to unSee among many others Homi K. Bhabha The Location of Culture (London: Routledge,
1994) and idem (ed.), Nation and Narration (London: Routledge, 1990). The field of postcolonial
reading of biblical texts is burgeoning. For a good introduction to the field see R. S. Sugirtharaja, (ed.), The Postcolonial Biblical Reader (Malden, MA / Oxford: Blackwell, 2006).
1
derstand how they interact with the ancient imperial settings in which they were
conceived and read and in which they were used to construct meaning and to understand the surrounding reality.
The first essay by Jeffrey Cooley (Propaganda, Prognostication, and Planets)
starts with an introduction to propaganda studies, serving simultaneously as a
theoretical introduction to the entire volume. He reviews the recent literature on
the topic and notes the important distinction between integrative and agitative aspects of propaganda. Following Ellul, Cooley suggests integrative propaganda aims to
unify and stabilize the audience of the propaganda, while the purpose of agitative
propaganda aims to change their behavior.2 He goes on to look carefully at attestations of unusual interpretations of celestial omens by otherwise competent diviners in Neo-Assyrian texts. Adducing royal inscriptions which also include such
unusual interpretations, Cooley shows that the diviners were likely influenced by
their royal overlords.
The second essay by Beate Pongratz-Leisten (The King at the Crossroads between Divination and Cosmology) investigates the royal appropriation of divination as part of the mytho-political worldview of the ancient Near East, particularly
in the so-called historical omens. After a review of the evidence for the historical
omens, Pongratz-Leisten focuses on Assurbanipal and his demand to be entered
into the tradition of historical omens. She argues that this represents Assurbanipals sidestepping of the traditional control of divine information through diviners, and that the claim represents Assurbanipals attempt to become the epitome
of the ideal king.
Jonathan Stkls essay, Divination as Warfare, presents a study of the way in
which information from the divine spheremostly but not exclusively gained
through prophecywas alluded to in diplomatic correspondence between Old
Babylonian Mari and Aleppo as well as in 2 Kings 23 // 2 Chronicles 35 and 2 Kings
1819 // Isaiah 3739. The way in which a foreign god claims authority over a territory in some of these texts is interpreted as a necessary pre-condition and/or a byproduct of universalistic theologies. The study compares the structure of the ancient Near Eastern and biblical diplomatic communication, specifically with regard
to their use of divine information and the agency of gods in them, to the Roman
rite evocation, in which the Romans claimed the support of the gods of a besieged
city for themselves.
In his contribution (Revisiting Biblical Prophecy, Revealed Knowledge Pertaining to Ritual, and Secrecy in Light of Ancient Mesopotamian Prophetic Texts)
Alan Lenzi returns to his monograph on Secrecy and the Gods to refine the explanation for the open communication of prophecy and divinely revealed knowledge
Jacques Ellul, Propaganda: The Formation of Mens Attitudes (New York: Knopf, 1965).
JONATHAN STKL AND ALAN LENZI
pertaining to ritual by prophets in the Hebrew Bible.3 In his monograph, Lenzi

followed Holladays idea that prophets in Israel/Judah began to communicate directly and openly to the people rather than the king due to the influence of the
way in which Neo-Assyrian imperial messengers communicated with subdued
populations.4 In the present essay Lenzi suggests that most ancient Mesopotamian
prophetic oracles were in fact semi-public (with the possible exception of ARM 26
206); thus, they are similar to the open proclamations of prophetic oracles to the
people as depicted in the Bible. Lenzi looks for a new explanation to explain the
open communication of revealed knowledge pertaining to ritual in the Hebrew
Bible in the potentially destabilizing nature of ancient Mesopotamian prophecy
and in Seth Sanders ideas of the shift in horizons in the writing of biblical history, law, and especially prophecy under the Western imperial pressures from the
eighth century BCE on.5
Casey Strine (Chaoskampf against Empire) offers a reading of the Gog of Magog
pericope (Ezekiel 3839), building on the work in which he and C. L. Crouch find
allusions to the Chaoskampf tradition in this text and elsewhere in Ezekiel.6 He rejects recent attempts to date the pericope to the Hellenistic age and instead dates
it to the sixth century and thus a Neo-Babylonian imperial context. Basing himself
on the work of James C. Scott, Strine understands the references to the Chaoskampf
as hidden transcripts of the Judean exiles against the Neo-Babylonian empire, thereby adding this important category to the debate about how prophetic and other
divinatory texts react to and deal with the imperial situation in which they were
conceived.
Gran Eidevall (Propagandistic Constructions of Empires in the Book of Isaiah) asks how the book of Isaiah interacts with empirewhether it undermines or
upholds it. Eidevall follows the initial Neo-Assyrian setting in which we findas
may be expectedsigns of both mimicry and mockery, which is part of the ambiguity of colonial literature as identified by Bhaba. However, Eidevall identifies a
third stage in this literature which moves away from ambiguity to a more singleminded propagandistic nature of the text criticizing Assyria. After an Egyptian
Interlude, the reader will find themselves in the setting of the Babylonian Empire,
3
Alan Lenzi, Secrecy and the Gods: Secret Knowledge in Ancient Mesopotamia and Biblical Israel
(SAAS 19; Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project, 2008).
4
John S. Holladay, Jr., Assyrian Statecraft and the Prophets of Israel, HTR 63 (1970):
2951.
5
Seth Sanders, The Invention of Hebrew (Urbana/Chicago: University of Illinois Press,
2009).
6
See C. L. Crouch, Ezekiels Oracles against the Nations in Light of a Royal Ideology of
Warfare, JBL 130 (2011): 47392 and C. L. Crouch and Casey A. Strine, YHWHs Battle against
Chaos in Ezekiel: The Transformation of Judahite Mythology for a New Situation, JBL 132
(2013): 883903.
which is depicted with antipathy and ambivalence. Eidevall then looks into how
the book reacts to the Persian Empire, concluding with an examination of the imperial enterprise in which YHWH is the overlord.
In his contribution on the book of Isaiah (The Theological Politics of DeuteroIsaiah), Joseph Blenkinsopp focuses on the figure of Cyrus as a Davidic figure, who
replaces the native Judean kings as the divinely chosen leader. As Blenkinsopp
shows, Isaiah 4066 is the only mention of David in Isa 55:15. The reference to a
nation you do not know and a nation that does not know you will come in haste
(Isa 55:5) is explained as a reference to Cyrus (see, e.g., Isa 41:25; 42:6; 45:3, 4).
Ehud Ben Zvi approaches the prophetic corpus (The Yehudite Collection of
Prophetic Books) as it would have been read by literati in the late Persian and early Hellenistic periods. After a short review of some recent studies on ancient empires, Ben Zvi turns to an introduction to social memory and the way that Persian
period Yehudian (Judean) literati (re-)read their traditions, added to them, and
constructed authors, authority, and their (hybrid) world. Ben Zvi asks why there is
not more criticism of the Persian Empire in texts of the early Hellenistic period,
since by then the necessity to express such criticism through hidden transcripts (a la
Scott) would have ceased.7 Ben Zvi argues that the absence of a negative indictment on the Persian rulers and Cyrus in particular should be regarded as significant. Ben Zvi and Blenkinsopp follow similar lines of argumentation here, with the
proviso that according to Ben Zvi Cyrus is only partially Davidize[d]. Indeed, Ben
Zvi sees Isa 55:5 as an example of appropriation and reshaping of imperial memories. However, Ben Zvi then goes on to ask why there is so little about Cyrus in the
prophetic corpus, if he is understood as a new Davidide. Ben Zvi looks to the (partly pseudo-)historical setting of prophetic books in the pre-Persian period and more
importantly to the trend to understand world history as moving toward a new
empire to come, namely, YHWHs empire. According to Ben Zvi this represents fairly standard under-dog dreams of empire, in which the rhetoric of the human
political empire has been internalized. Against the historical Arameanization of
Yehud stands the theological Israelization of the entire world.
The last essay in this volume (Power, Politics, and Prophecy in the Dead Sea
Scrolls and Second Temple Judaism) by Alex Jassen moves the discussion yet further in time to the late Second Temple period. Jassen understands the various
groups behind the Dead Sea Scrolls as generally being in a politically weaker position than other groups, such as the Hasmoneans and the Jerusalem priesthood.
7
This is particularly surprising as the royal historiographical tradition and criticism of
certain rulers is very much part of the Hellenistic tradition in cuneiform. In Mesopotamia,
the criticism takes the form of a hidden transcript. For an example see Caroline Waerzeggers,
The Nabonidus Debate in Babylonia, c. 200 BCE, in Jewish Cultural Encounters in the Ancient
Mediterranean and Near Eastern World Debate (ed. M. Popovi; Leiden/Boston: Brill), forthcoming.
JONATHAN STKL AND ALAN LENZI
Significantly, the dynamics described by Jassen are similar in nature to those described for the late Persian and early Hellenistic period with their emphasis on
eschatological retribution within a divine empire; what appears to be relatively
new or at least given much more emphasis is the describing of prophets whose
messages are not aligned with that of the author of the particular manuscript as
false prophets.
The essays collected in this volume cover a wide scope: from diplomatic correspondence in second millennium BCE Mari to the eschatological hopes expressed in
the Dead Sea Scrolls. The common goal is to understand how empire influenced
prophetic and divinatory communication between the divine and human realms
and how this was put to use as and influenced by propaganda from those in power.
We would like to thank de Gruyter for allowing us to print Beate PongratzLeistens essay on divination and cosmology, which forms part of chapter nine of
her Religion and Ideology in Assyria (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2014), as well as Eerdmans
Publishing for permitting us to print the essay by Joseph Blenkinsopp, which is
nearly equivalent to chapter four of his David Remembered: Kingship and National
Identity in Ancient Israel (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013), 5470.
Finally, we would like to thank Ehud Ben Zvi, Roxana Flammini, and Martti Nissinen for accepting the volume into the Ancient Near Eastern Monograph series of the
Society of Biblical Literature. We hope that publishing the studies through this
venue will make them available to a wide readership.
February 2014
1
Propaganda, Prognostication, and Planets1
Jeffrey L. Cooley
INTRODUCTION: ON PROPAGANDA AND ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN STUDIES

The issue of whether or not the term propaganda can be appropriately applied to ancient Iraq was highlighted in the well-known article on the subject by A.
Leo Oppenheim, who treated particularly the Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian
Periods. Despite the fact that this article was a contribution to an anthology assembled by pioneering propaganda scholar Harold Lasswell, Oppenheim did not
employ the term propaganda a single time.2 For Oppenheim, the royal inscriptions were primarily ceremonial in nature, though they had the added effect of
lionizing the monarch and enlightening members of his court.3 In the same volume, Finkelstein presented the primary objection to applying the concept to material from Mesopotamian antiquity, namely, that propaganda presumes a situation
or context where a number of competing ideologies or sources of authority seek
the allegiance or loyalty of large masses of persons.4 In light of this, though he, in
1
I would like to thank the editors, Alan Lenzi and Jonathan Stkl, for their insightful
comments and invitation to participate in this volume. Additionally, I am grateful for the
editorial help of Benjamin Miyamoto. An earlier version of a section of this paper benefitted
from the critical comments of Gary Beckman and anonymous reviewers for which I am quite
thankful.
2
A. Leo Oppenheim, Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian Empires, in Propaganda and
Communication in World History (ed. Harold Lasswell; 3 vols.; Honolulu: University Press of
Hawaii, 1979), 1: 11144.
3
Oppenheim, Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian Empires, 116, 118.
4
J. J. Finkelstein, Early Mesopotamia, 25001000 B.C. in Propaganda and Communication
in World History, 50110, 53. Certainly, some modern evaluations of propaganda in the twentieth century follow the mass-oriented model, e.g., Jacques Ellul, Propaganda: The Formation of
contrast to Oppenheim, did use the term propaganda in his discussion, Finkelstein maintained that a better characterization of the ancient Near Eastern sources
might be simply polemic.5
In spite of Oppenheims reluctance, the term propaganda has often been
used in discussions of the literature of the ancient Near East, often quite effectively, but sometimes with little reflection on the terms use in contemporary studies
of propaganda. In its least effective employ, the word seems simply to indicate the
often manipulated portrayal of the king, his administration, and his enemies to a
public.6 On the other hand, several scholars of the ancient Near East use the term
with considerable sophistication. The application of propaganda studies to the
Neo-Assyrian period in particular has offered rich returns: the work of such scholars as Reade, Winter, Liverani, Tadmor and Nevling Porter are outstanding examples of how propaganda, properly understood, can allow for sensitive and powerful
readings of political self-representation in ancient Iraq.7 Though some scholars of
Mens Attitudes (New York: Knopf, 1965). But this does not mean their insights, properly modified, cannot be applied to ancient contexts.
5
Finkelstein, Early Mesopotamia, 54 and 64. In this vein, see Hayim Tadmor, who
states, I believe that we are fully justified in using the term in the context of outright political polemic (Propaganda, Literature, and Historiography, in Assyria 1995: Proceedings of the
10th Anniversary Symposium of the Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project [ed. Simo Parpola and Robert
M. Whiting; Helsinki: Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project, 1997], 32538, 333). In spite of Tadmors significant contribution to the topic at hand, it must be noted that propaganda is more
than mere argument; rather, in any definition of the term, the end goal of gaining group
support through action must always remain highlighted.
6
Similarly, Gran Eidevall, in his Prophecy and Propaganda: Images of Enemies in the Book of
Isaiah (ConBOT 56; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2009), never defines the term, but seems to use
it to describe the expression of an ideology, with little attention given to the specific behaviors it seeks to elicit. Though not denying an active element, a similar focus on ideological
consent can be found in Eric Seibert, Subversive Scribes and the Solomonic Narrative: A Rereading
of 1 Kings 111 (LHBOTS 436; London: T & T Clark, 2006), 13. See also Aarnoud van der Deijl,
Protest or Propaganda: War in the Old Testament Book of Kings and in Contemporaneous Ancient Near
Eastern Texts (SSN 51; Leiden: Brill, 2008), which focuses specifically on the justification of
war in the Hebrew Bible. While van der Deijl is well engaged with studies of propaganda in
the ancient Near East, it must be noted that the ex post facto dissemination of ones casus belli
is not necessarily propaganda, as modern propaganda theorists would understand it. Though
he neither attempts to define what he means by the term propaganda, nor does he engage
with important modern theorist such as Ellul or Lasswell, he at least does draw on important
ancient Near Eastern studies scholars who have.
7
Julian Reade, Ideology and Propaganda in Assyrian Art, in Power and Propaganda: A
Symposium on Ancient Empires (ed. M. T. Larsen; Copenhagen: Akademisk Forlag, 1979), 32943;
Irene, J. Winter, Royal Rhetoric and the Development of Historical Narrative in NeoAssyrian Reliefs, Studies in Visual Communication 7 (1981): 238; Mario Liverani, The Ideology of the Neo-Assyrian Empire, in Power and Propaganda, 297317; Barbara Nevling Porter,
Images, Power, Politics: Figurative Aspects of Esarhaddons Babylonian Policy (Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 1993), and Assyrian Propaganda for the West: Esarhaddons Stelae for Til Barsip and Samal, in Essays on Syria in the Iron Age (AbrNSup 7; Louvain: Peeters,
2000), 14376. It should be noted that Winter focuses not on the propagandistic, but rather
on the purely ideological thrust of the NA palace reliefs; however, she does understand the
JEFFREY L. COOLEY
ancient Israel and Judah have occasionally been reluctant to apply the term to the
Hebrew Bible,8 there have been many important contributions especially in the
last couple of decades of the last century.9 One of these contributions was also the
first monograph solely dedicated to the subject of propaganda in the Hebrew Bible
as a whole, namely, Rex Masons Propaganda and Subversion in the Old Testament.10
This focused work itself has spawned a number of other studies, such as those by
Seibert and van der Deijl.11
Current definitions of propaganda are by no means completely unified.12
Nonetheless, there are certain salient commonalities, as a couple of examples will
suffice to demonstrate. Communication scholars Garth S. Jowett and Victoria
ODonnell offer this definition in their popular text on the subject: Propaganda is
the deliberate, systematic attempt to shape perceptions, manipulate cognitions,
and direct behavior to achieve a response that furthers the desired intent of the propagandist.13 Philip Taylor, in his study of the role of propaganda in armed conflict
throughout history, defines the term in this way:
By propaganda, then, I mean the deliberate attempt to persuade people to think
and behave in a desired way. Although I recognize that much propaganda is accidental or unconscious here I am discussing the conscious, methodical and planned
decisions to employ techniques of persuasion designed to achieve specific goals
that are intended to benefit those organizing the process.14
In sum, what is shared by most modern studies of the term, including the definitions offered here is that propaganda is deliberate persuasive communication,
ultimately agitative goals of propaganda, and is reluctant to separate propaganda from the
plain dissemination of ideology (Winter, Royal Rhetoric, 23).
8
This is in no doubt due to the theological assumptions of many biblical scholars regarding the Hebrew Bible, on the one hand, and to the common characterization of propaganda as a necessarily misleading rhetoric, on the other. See, e.g., John Walton, Ancient Israelite Literature in its Cultural Context: A Survey of Parallels between Biblical and Ancient Near Eastern
Texts (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1989), 115.
9
For an outstanding, though brief, survey, see Seibert, Subversive Scribes, 1417, to
which my own overview here is indebted.
10
Rex Mason, Propaganda and Subversion in the Old Testament (London: SPCK, 1997).
11
Seibert, Subversive Scribes; van der Deijl, Protest or Propaganda. Liverani, following his
Marxist understanding of propaganda, understands the entire biblical text as a propagandistic work composed to consolidate power (Mario Liverani, Propaganda, ABD 5: 47477).
12
For a survey of categorized definitions, see Randal Marlin, Propaganda and the Ethics of
Persuasion (Peterborough: Broadview Press, 2002), 1621. Marlin offers his own definition of
the term: the organized attempt to affect belief or action or inculcate attitudes in a large
audience in ways that circumvent or suppress an individuals adequately informed, rational,
reflective judgment (Propaganda and the Ethics of Persuasion, 22).
13
Garth S. Jowett and Victoria ODonnell, Propaganda and Persuasion (3rd ed.; London:
Sage Publications, 1999), 6 (italics mine).
14
Philip M. Taylor, Munitions of the Mind: A History of Propaganda from the Ancient World to
the Present Day (3rd ed.; Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2003), 6.
10
the goal of which is to convince people to think specific things and perform certain
acts that further the objectives of the originator of the communication.15 In the
academic study of propaganda these desired patterns of thought and behavior are
often referred to as action. The kind of action that the propaganda desires to elicit
determines the kind of propaganda employed. The action and the propaganda that
leads to it can thus be divided into two categories: integration and integrative propaganda, and agitation and agitative propaganda.16 The first primarily connotes the desired effect of making an audience passively accepting of the propagandists direction and leadership.17 As Ellul characterizes it, integration stabilizes and unifies the
audience and is a long-term undertaking.18 Though integration is often a goal unto
itself, it can also effectively create a fertile and reliable field in which the second
kind of action, agitation, can grow. Agitation refers primarily to the desired behaviors that the propagandist seeks to provoke.19 It must be emphasized that the desired behaviors, the actions of integration and agitationand not merely thought
processes that lead to themare really the end goals of propaganda as it is currently understood.20
Note also what is not included in these contemporary definitions of the term
offered by scholars who approach the phenomenon from the perspective of communications: a definition of just who the audience is.21 One of the reasons for Oppenheims rejection of the word propaganda I believe, revolved around the assumption that by definition the intended audience for propaganda must be the
general public.22 Certainly, modern propaganda campaigns, as seen in many coun15
Propaganda differs from mere persuasive rhetoric in that the latter is interactive
and attempts to satisfy the needs of both persuader and persuaded (Jowett and ODonnell,
Propaganda, 1).
16
Jowett and ODonnell, Propaganda, 1112. In line with the rest of his study, Ellul maintains that integration can only occur in modern societies (Propaganda, 7475). Though these
useful analytical labels are often employed by scholars working with more contemporary
materials (as recently as Marlin, Propaganda and the Ethics of Persuasion, 3639), they are rarely
employed by those who use the heuristic to approach ancient Near Eastern cultures. I believe them to be useful and appropriate labels and will use them throughout this work.
17
Jowett and ODonnell, Propaganda, 12.
18
Ellul, Propaganda, 75.
19
Jowett and ODonnell, Propaganda, 1112.
20
Mario Liverani hints at this understanding (The Ideology of the Neo-Assyrian Empire, in Power and Propaganda: A Symposium on Ancient Empires [Copenhagen Studies in Assyriology 7; ed. M. T. Larsen; Copenhagen: Akademisk Forlag, 1979], 299). For a full appreciation
of the contemporary understanding, see, in particular, Nevling Porter, who states, By proposing that Esarhaddons three stelae should be included in the discussion of Assyrian propaganda, I mean to suggest that the visual and verbal imagery of the stelae was designed less
to inform than to persuade, and that the stelae appear to have been designed at least in part
to influence the political attitudes and behaviour of audiences in the cities where the stelae
were erected (Assyrian Propaganda for the West, 144).
21
Perhaps an outlier here is Marlin who in his definition highlights a large audience
(Propaganda and Persuasion, 22).
22
Finkelstein goes on to note that propaganda in ancient Near Eastern texts was targeted at the segment of the population that was a real or potential threat to the political
JEFFREY L. COOLEY
11
tries in the last century, were and are often directed to the public at large. These
campaigns assume both access to the media sources by which the propaganda is
propagated as well as a high level of literacy. Newspapers, leaflets, posters, film,
radio, television, and most recently, the internet and social media are widely distributed or accessible, and they are universally comprehensible in a literate society. This is in stark contrast to the ancient Near East in general: images were largely
concentrated in areas of restricted access, such as the palace and temple, and textual media, often featured side-by-side with the images, could only be appreciated
by relatively tiny segments of the population. Nonetheless, one of the observations
noted in the modern study of contemporary propaganda is that it is not solely directed at the general public.23 Indeed, since specific groups of people have different
political connections and skill sets, it follows that in order to elicit specific behaviors from such groups propaganda can be used to target them. Thus, any audience,
not just the general public, can be the target of a propaganda campaign.
Previous studies on the use of texts and visual communication in the NeoAssyrian period have concluded that the Assyrian crown indeed targeted specific
groups with carefully focused propaganda. For example, Reades study of the NeoAssyrian palace reliefs argues that these images were strategically situated to address specific audiences (e.g., courtiers and foreign visitors).24 Winter convincingly
argued that that the standard inscriptions and their accompanying reliefs seem to
carry the same message, but were directed at literate and non-literate groups respectively.25 Similarly, Nevling Porters study of Esarhaddons stelae from Til
Barsip and Samal demonstrates that the creators of Esarhaddons Til Barsip and
Samal stelas understood the local history of reception of Assyrian hegemony and
fit their images and texts to suit.26
Modern history has shown that possible targeted audiences do not only include uneducated masses, of course, but also the educated, privileged elite. Indeed,
the more important the targeted group is to the individual goals of the propagandist, the more propagandistic attention and effort that group will receive. While it
might be popularly assumed that the uneducated masses are the most susceptible
to the often misleading rhetoric of the propagandist, the fact is that those groups
who have the most invested in culturally formulated symbolic systems are quite
vulnerable as well. We might expect them to be more skeptical. (They are scholars like us, are they not?) But they are a fertile target for propaganda. This is beauthority at any given moment which was never the public at large (Early Mesopotamia,
53).
23
The traditional propaganda audience is a mass audience, but that is not always the
case with modern propaganda. To be sure, mass communication in some form will be used
but it may be used in conjunction with other audience forms such as small groups, interest
groups, a group of the politically or culturally elite, a special segment of the population,
opinion leaders, and individuals (Jowett and ODonnell, Propaganda, 28687).
24
Reade, Ideology and Propaganda, 33839.
25
Winter, Royal Rhetoric, 1921.
26
Nevling Porter, Assyrian Propaganda for the West. See also Tadmor, Propaganda,
Literature, and Historiography; and Porter, Images, Power, Politics, 10517 (especially 116).
12
cause, as Ellul notes, one of propagandas most important devices [is] . . . the manipulation of symbols.27
Oppenheim astutely noted that the kings of ancient Iraq exercised their political authority by skillful manipulation of two systems, namely, the bureaucratic
and the symbolic.28 While all members of Mesopotamian society from king to slave
participated to some degree in both systems, the latter system was most fully appreciated by the literate elite. After all, they were the only ones who had the skills
required to appreciate and grasp the full panoply of symbolsvisual, ritual, and
textualthat the monarchs controlled in order attain their political goals. We can
reasonably assume that the implied audience of the Neo-Assyian royal inscriptions, in particular, or at least in part, was the literate intelligentsia.29 The literate
elite of Babylonia and Assyria would have been an ideal target for a propaganda
campaign in the Neo-Assyrian period. As noted, previous studies have argued that
certain royal inscriptions were targeted at specific audiences. Only those with
some access to the mechanisms of the state could have been exposed to the spectrum of media expected in a propaganda campaign. The literate elites are the ones
who saw the palace reliefs with their own eyes; they are the ones who proximately
observed the spectacle of the state cultus; they are the ones who had access to the
officially composed royal inscriptions; and ultimately, they are the ones who had
the ability to compose and read them. Furthermore, the greatest internal threat to
the Assyrian king was not a dissatisfied general public who might take up arms in
open rebellion, but rather those closest to him who comprised the administrative
apparatus of the statefamily, officials, etc.30 These are the kings primary audience, those whom he needed to convince so that they might be loyal and motivated to implement his policies.
Oppenheim, The Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian Empires, 11113.
29
Tadmor, Propaganda, Literature, and Historiography, 332; cf. J. A. Brinkman,
Through a Glass Darkly: Esarhaddons Retrospects on the Downfall of Babylon, JAOS 103
(1983): 3542 (41); Nevling Porter, Images, Power, Politics, 116; and F. M. Fales and G. B.
Lanfranchi, The Impact of Oracular Material on the Political Utterances and Political Action
in the Royal Inscriptions of the Sargonid Dynasty, in Oracles et prophties dans lantiquit:
Actes du colloque de Strasborgh, 15-17 juin 1995 (ed. J.-G. Heintz; Travaux du Centre de recherche
sur le Proche-Orient et la Grce antiques 15; Strasbourg: de Bocard, 1997), 99114 (113).
Oppenheim maintained that some version of the contents of the royal inscriptions
must have been disseminated orally to the general public, even if only unofficially (Oppenheim, The City of Assur in 714 B.C. JNES 19 [1960]: 13347). Tadmors caveat, that there is
no actual evidence for an official mechanism for a public dissemination, needs to be taken
seriously (Tadmor, Propaganda, Literature, and Historiography, 332). Nonetheless, the fact
that information from the royal inscriptions somehow spread despite their cuneiformity can
be maintained on the grounds that specific tropes typical of that genre seem to have been
used and polemically abused by Judahite prophet-scribes. See Peter Machinist, Assyria and
Its Image in the First Isaiah, JAOS 103 (1983): 71937; Shawn Zelig Aster, The Image of Assyria in Isaiah 2:522: The Campaign Motif Reversed, JAOS 127 (2007): 24978.
30
It is undoubtedly the case, however, that the support of the general populace could
be a real concern. See Finkelstein, Early Mesopotamia, 5458.
27
28
JEFFREY L. COOLEY
13
The goal of this study, then, is to begin the analysis of the handful of references to celestial divination found in the Assyrian royal inscriptions from the perspective of propaganda studies by approaching one text in particular, Esarhaddons Assur A inscription. Doing so, I believe, will help us solve some of the outstanding problems in regards to the celestial phenomena recorded in these inscriptions and their mantic implications.
CELESTIAL DIVINATION IN THE NEO-ASSYRIAN ROYAL INSCRIPTIONS:

ESARHADDONS ASSUR A
The relative density of references to divination in the inscriptions of the Sargonids is a well-known phenomenon.31 But specific references to celestial divination in these texts are few and far between.32 While Sargon II mentioned the positive results of celestial divination in his famous Letter to Assur,33 and Sennacherib
seems to have labeled several gates after celestial features, the first clear reference
in the royal inscriptions per se to that mantic practice occur during the reign of
Esarhaddon.
The first of these occurs in the beginning of Assur A, Esarhaddons description
of his renovation of the temple Earra in Assur, and is the focus of my discussion.
The text is known from at least nine exemplars: seven clay prisms, one stone tab-
31
For an overview of prophecy in particular, see Martti Nissinen, References to Prophecy
in Neo-Assyrian Sources (SAAS 7; Helsinki: Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project, 1998). For a discussion of the quasi-use of celestial divination in the Neo-Babylonian inscriptions of Nabonidus, see Paul-Richard Berger, Imaginre Astrologie in sptbabylonischer Propaganda, in
Die Rolle der Astronomie in den Kulturen Mesopotamiens Morgenlandischen Symposion (23.27. September 1991) (ed. H. D. Galter; Graz: RM Druck & Verlagsgesellschaft, 1993), 27589.
32
For overviews, see Ulla Koch-Westenholz, Mesopotamian Astrology: An Introduction to
Babylonian and Assyrian Celestial Divination (CNI Publications 19; Copenhagen: Museum Tusculum Press, 1995), 15261 and Beate Pongratz-Leisten, Herrschaftswissen in Mesopotamien:
Formen der Kommunikation zwischen Gott und Knig im 2. und 1. Jahrtausausend v. Chr. (SAAS 10;
Helsinki: Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project, 1999), 3846.
33
Franois Thureau-Dangin, Une relation de la huitime campagne de Sargon (714 av. J.-C.)
(TCL 3; Paris: Geuthner, 1912). For discussion, see A. Leo Oppenheim, The City of Assur,
13347; and F. M. Fales, Narrative and Ideological Variations in the Account of Sargons
Eighth Campaign, in Ah, Assyria . . . : Studies in Assyrian History and Ancient Near Eastern Historiography Presented to Hayim Tadmor (ed. M. Cogan and I. Ephal; Jerusalem: Magnes, 1991), 129
47. While the text is quite similar to the royal inscriptions in style, content, etc., I am not
including it in my discussion here, since its implied audience is rather uncertain (Oppenheim, The City of Assur, 138; Koch-Westenholz, Mesopotamian Astrology, 15354; PongratzLeisten, Herrschaftswissen, 3039; David Brown, Mesopotamian Planetary Astronomy-Astrology
[CM 18; Groningen: Styx, 2000], 14 n.31). Oppenheim, for example, maintained that the letter
was to be read publically for the citizens of Assur itself (The City of Assur, 143). The celestial phenomena described and their mantic interpretation present several problems similar
to those of Assur A
14
let, and one clay tablet.34 As is typical of such royal inscriptions, all of the copies
were found deliberately buried in the foundations of various structures in Assur,
minus the clay tablet whose exact provenance is unknown. If Esarhaddon had intended the message of Assur A to be relayed to a general audience, clearly there
would have been more effective means of doing so than burying the text in the
ground. Perhaps we must assume that dissemination of the text, and its agenda,
was to be accomplished first in its repeated manufacture and then by word of
mouth among individuals who could comprehend the texts specific significance.
In any case, Assur A has several mantic references all of which confirm the legitimacy of Esarhaddons activity, not just those which concern celestial divination.35 The references to hepatoscopy, lecanomancy, or prophecy merely highlight
in broad terms the positive or reliable nature of the oracles generated through
these methods. In marked contrast, those deriving from celestial divination are
manifestly more sophisticated and include rather precise details regarding specific
omens. Indeed, the celestial divination references are so specific that we are able
to situate them within the contemporaneous practice. Against this background,
Esarhaddons mantic assertions in terms of this specific tradition are revealed to
be highly unorthodox and problematic.
Yet, in spite of the difficulties presented by the inscriptions celestial oracles,
its technical sophistication is an important indicator of its implied audience and
assumes that its audience had a knowledgeable background in the practice of celestial divination, perhaps even technical training. Winter noted a similar kind of
specificity in her study of the development of the narrative program of NeoAssyrian palace reliefs, that
the ability to receive the message contained in the program . . . is a direct function
of the effectiveness and clarity of the presentation of the message, the packaging
. . . , and of the cognitive competence of the audience: the stored knowledge
brought to the situation, ability to understand signs and signals, and skill in decoding. . . .36
That is to say, the creator of such an ideologically loaded message (in Winters
case, the designer of the reliefs in Assurnairpal IIs palace, in contrast to that of
reliefs from later in the period) must understand his audience, and employ an audience-appropriate symbolic system.
Esarhaddon begins to describe his mantically-delivered divine approval, at the
beginning of the text proper, shortly after his own titulary:
3
4
[30 u d]UTU DINGIR.ME ma-u-te

-[] de-en kit-te
In [order] to give the land and the

people verdicts of truth and jus-
34
For these and the following archaeological data, see the summary chart in RINAP 4:
11920.
35
RINAP 4 57 ii 1213, 1426, iii 42iv 6.
36
Winter, Royal Rhetoric, 29.
JEFFREY L. COOLEY
5
6
7
8
9
10
mi--ri
a-na KUR u UN.ME -ra-ku
ITI-am-ma ar-ra-an kit-te
mi--ri ab-tu-ma
UD.[1].KAM UD.14.KAM
-sa-di-ru ta-mar-t
15
tice, the gods [Sn and] ama, the

twin gods, took the road of truth
and justice monthly. They made
(their simultaneous) appearance
regularly on the [1st]37 and 14th
days.38
Koch-Westenholz describes this statement as a general reference to the auspicious omens of opposition and, probably, conjunction of the sun and the moon on
the proper dates. This is a literary phrase like may Sin and Shamash bless him
without cease.39 Though her characterization has gained some acceptance,40
there are nonetheless problems with it. While the statement in Assur A is a generalization, it is an intentional generalization of a very specific set of astronomical
phenomena and presumes their specific divinatory applications: both of these astronomical events are considered auspicious. For example, SAA 8 409, a report
from the celestial diviner Raili, notes an omen associated with the auspicious beginning of a month:
1
2
3
DI ina UD.1.[KM IGI KA] GI.NA

KUR DG -a
UD.[1].KM DINGIR KI DINGIR
M.SIG5 LUGAL be-l-ia
in-nam-mar
If (the moon) [becomes visible] on

the 1st day: reliable [speech]; the
land will become happy.
On the [1st]41 day the god will be
seen with the other: good for the
king my lord.42
Raili here seems to equate a month which has begun on the first, i.e., in an ideal
manner, with the gods (undoubtedly the sun and moon) being seen with each oth37
The reconstruction of 1 in the brackets is offered by Francis Rue Steele without explanation (The University Museum Esarhaddon Prism, JAOS 71 [1954]: 112, 4); he is followed by Koch-Westenholz (Mesopotamian Astrology, 155) and Pongratz-Leisten (Herrschaftswissen, 41). This reconstruction appears likely for two reasons. First, the missing sign would
have been located in a rather slim space between two fragments (UM 32-33-5 and Ass 12260 +
VAT 8411), and it seems unlikely that there is space for anything larger than a single vertical
wedge, particularly since the beginning of the following KM sign needs to fit in the gap as
well. Second, there is specific positive mantic significance placed on both the 1st and 14th,
when the gods appear together (i.e., the sun and moon are either in opposition or conjunction), as evidenced by the omina cited below. In contrast, Leichty offers no reconstruction of
the obscurity (RINAP 4 57 i 9), while Borger suggested 13(?), though this was clearly a
guess (Borger, Ash 2 2 i 37).
38
RINAP 4 57 i 310.
39
Koch-Westenholz, Mesopotamia Astrology, 155.
40
E.g., Pongratz-Leisten, Herrschaftswissen, 41.
41
Campbell-Thompson was also unclear as to the reading here, transliterating ana UD . .
. . . DINGIR in-nam-mar (RMA 46a). The photo reveals that the tablet is rather difficult to read
(available through the CDLI: http://www.cdli.ucla.edu/dl/photo/P237931.jpg). Nonetheless,
the fact that the omen is being read in conjunction with an omen regarding the first of the
month seems to indicate that this must be the meaning.
42
SAA 8 409:14.
16
er. The apodoses are appropriately positive. Likewise, SAA 8 15 reports a solarlunar opposition on the 14th:
6
7
8
9
10
r. 1
2
3
4
1 UD.14.KM 30 u 20 KI a-a-me
IGI.ME
KA GI.NA -bi KUR DG-ab
DINGIR.ME kurURI.KI
a-na da-m-iq-ti
i-a-sa-su
u-ud -bi ERIM-ni
-bi LUGAL DG-ab
M.ANE kurURI.KI
ina EDIN par-ga-ni N-i
If on the 14th day the moon and

sun are seen together: reliable
speech, the land will become happy. The gods will remember Akkad
favorably; joy among the troops;
the king will become happy; the
cattle of Akkad will lie in the
steppe undisturbed.43
The variant apodoses offered by the diviner (lines 8rev. 4) who wrote this report,
the chief scribe Issar-umu-ere, are all overwhelmingly positive and cover multiple facets of the land, including the status of the religious climate, the army, the
monarchy, and livestock.
Returning to Assur A, Esarhaddon would have us believe that the sun and
moon appeared in happy conjunction on the first of the month and in blissful opposition on the 14th on a monthly basis (araamma, line 7). But this was not and
could not have been the case. The appearance of the sun and moon in relation to
each other are not this regular, and Esarhaddon certainly had to deal with the negative apodoses of such inauspicious phenomena on many occasions. For example,
lunar-solar oppositions occur frequently on dates other than the 14th, and reports
and letters which mention this phenomenon are so common that these texts are
difficult to date with precision.44 Nonetheless, because the oppositions are common, there is little doubt that they occurred with relative frequency during Esarhaddons eleven-year reign. For example, the chief scribe Issar-umu-ere, who
served both Esarhaddon and his son Assurbanipal, writes of a lunar-solar opposition on the 15th:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
DI UD.15.[KM] d30 [u dUTU]

it-ti a-a-m-i IGI.LAL
l
KR dan-nu giTUKUL.ME-
a-na KUR i-na--a
K.GAL.ME lKR i-na-qar
DI d30 u dUTU la -q-ma ir-bi
na-an-dur UR.MA u UR.BAR.RA
If on the 15th day the mo[on and

sun] are seen together: a strong
enemy will raise his weapons
against the land; the enemy will
tear down the city gates. If the
moon or the sun does not wait
(for the other), but sets: raging
of lion and wolf.45
Esarhaddons fronted summary of the celestial omens of his reign in Assur A contrasts with the mantic crises with which he had to deal, it seems, rather regularly
SAA 8 15:610, rev. 14.
E.g., SAA 8 23, 91, 92, 134, 136, 173, 202203, 306; SAA 10 94, 105, 125, 135.
45
SAA 8 24:17.
43
44
JEFFREY L. COOLEY
17
as attested in the reports and particularly the letters. Nonetheless, his assertion
does not serve a polemical purpose. Unlike the public quarrel the later Nabonidus
had with his Neo-Babylonian court diviners, there is no obvious argument in Esarhaddons inscription, no engagement with a counter-claim or an apology for otherwise unusual interpretations.46 On the contrary, the Assyrian monarchs announcement serves as a programmatic declaration. The text dates to within the
first couple of years of his reign; thus, the statements regarding the consistently
positive phenomena cannot be based on a long history of real observations, even if
we assume that they were falsely portrayed as universally positive.47 By stating
that the sun and moon always fit into their ideal, auspicious schemes, Esarhaddon
is actively denying that he has everor will everhave to initiate the appropriate
namburb to alter an otherwise negative oracular fate. In propagandistic terms,
there is no doubt that it serves an integrative purpose (which seems to be KochWestenholzs characterization), assuring the implied audience that Esarhaddon
has the gods approval.48 But, as a statement clearly directed at literate diviners it
is also agitative in nature. The gods, he stresses, always give the king positive signs.
It thus sets a mantic agenda for all diviners who would serve the king: interpret
omens positively!
Esarhaddon follows his mantic summary with two other specific celestial
omina (i 11ii 13). The first specific omen revolves around a set of circumstances
involving the planet Dilbat/ Venus:
11
12
ii 1
2
3
4
5
mul
dil-bat na-ba MUL.ME
ina imMAR.TU
[ina KASKAL u]-ut d-a
in-na-mir kun-nu
ma-a-te [] su-lum
DINGIR.ME- ni-ir-t
ik-u-ud-ma it-bal
Venus, the brightest of the stars,

was seen in the west, [in the
Path] of Ea. Concerning the securing of the land (and) the reconciliation of its gods, it (Venus)
reached (its) secret (place) and
then disappeared.49
In this case, Esarhaddon is not inventing a celestial situation out of whole cloth as
he is in his previous statement regarding the regular ideal appearances of the sun
and moon; rather, the observed celestial phenomenon here described is in fact
accurate according to astronomical reconstructions of the night sky as it appeared
in 680 BCE.50 This particular omen entails three different astronomical events:
1) Venus rising in the west, in a certain section of the sky known as the Path of
46
For Nabonidus public argument with his diviners, see Peter Machinist and Hayim
Tadmor, Heavenly Wisdom, in The Tablet and the Scroll: Near Eastern Studies in Honor of William Hallo (ed. M. E. Cohen, D. C. Snell, and D. B. Weisberg; Bethesda: CDL Press, 1993), 14651.
47
Two of the copies of the inscription are dated to 679 BCE (RINAP 4 57).
48
Koch-Westenholz, Mesopotamian Astrology, 155.
49
RINAP 4: 57 i 1112, ii 16.
50
Hermann Hunger and David Pingree, MUL.APIN: An Astronomical Compendium in Cuneiform (AfOB 24; Horn: Berger, 1989), 14647.
18
Ea;51 2) Venus reaching something called its secret; and 3) Venus setting. All of
these ominous events are attested in the celestial divination omen collections
where they occur in multiple, interconnected and, it seems, developing forms.52 In
regard to Esarhaddons interpretation of these celestial phenomena in Assur A, it
would be fruitful to delineate that development by examining two of the tablets
that contain various Venus omens. The first of these that offers a form of the omen
applied by Esarhaddon, is K.7936, and lists Venuss potential appearance in the
various celestial Paths of Ea, Anu, and Enlil:
7
DI muldil-bat ina KASKAL u-ut d-a IGIir LUGAL MAR.TU ki GABA.RI NU.TUK-
DI muldil-bat ina KASKAL u-ut da-nim

IGI-ir LUGAL NIMki GABA.RI NU.TUK-
DI muldil-bat ina KASKAL u-ut den-ll

IGI-ir LUGAL URIki GABA.RI NU.TUK-
i
i
i
If Venus becomes visible in the

Path of Ea: the king of Amurru
will have no rival.
Path of Anu: the king of Elam
will have no rival.
Path of Enlil: the king of Akkad
will have no rival.53
Notable in K.7936 for our purposes here are the associations made between sections of the sky and geographic regions on earth, a feature which is common in
celestial divination literature: the Path of Ea with Amurru, the Path of Anu with
Elam, and the Path of Enlil with Akkad.54 Venuss appearance (innamir) in a specific
path indicates prosperity for that paths mundane association.
The direct significance of K.7936 in relation to Esarhaddons Assur A comes
from line 7: umma Dilbat ina arrn t Ea innamir ar Amurri nina ul i, If Venus
becomes visible in the Path of Ea: the king of Amurru will have no rival. In Assur
A, Esarhaddon states that Dilbat nab kakkab ina Amurri ina arrn t Ea innamir,
Venus, the brightest of the stars, was seen in the west, [in the Path] of Ea (i 11ii
2). Thus, though it is not stated explicitly in Assur A, Venuss appearance in the
Path of Ea bodes well for Amurru.
These omens as preserved in K.7936 are clearly somehow related to those in
another tablet from Kuyunjik, DT 47. This latter tablet adds an important element
to understanding Esarhaddons reference to Venuss celestial activity, namely, the
mantic significance assigned to the planets niirtu. This concept in celestial divina-
51
For the Paths of Ea, Anu, and Enlil, see the brief discussion in Erica Reiner and David
Pingree, Enma Anu Enlil Tablets 5051: Babylonian Planetary Omens 2 (BMes 2/2; Malibu: Undena
Publications, 1981), 1718.
52
The exact nature of the relationships between omen collections, such as those discussed here, is often difficult to ascertain, to be sure, and it is quite conceivable that all these
examples cited are merely contemporary variations of the same list of omens. For a discussion of these and other related tablets, see Erica Reiner and David Pingree, Babylonian Planetary Omens Part 3 (CM 11; Groningen: Styx, 1998) (henceforth BPO 3), 12, 199208.
53
K.7936:79 (BPO 3, 21011; cf. K.3601+:79; BPO 3 21314).
54
For such associations, see Koch-Westenholz, Mesopotamian Astrology, 98.
JEFFREY L. COOLEY
19
tion is first attested, as far as we can determine, on the Assur A inscription itself.55
Apparently sometime around or after the beginning of the 7th Century, BCE, when
Esarhaddons Assur A was composed and copied, a celestial diviner created omens
that included specific reference to the planets aar niirti (literally secret place,
often translated as hypsoma) and these, too, were included on DT 47:56
27
[DI mu]ldil-bat KI ni-ir-ti KUR-ud SIG5

ana mulUR.GU.LA KUR-ma : 1 2/3
KASKAL GS i[-aq-qam-ma]
28
[DI mu]ldil-bat KI ni-ir-ti la KUR-ud-ma

it-bal KUR ur-ta[-as]
29
[DI mu]ldil-bat ina imMAR.TU ITI-ma KI

ni-ir-ti KUR-ma u i[t-bal]
30
DINGIR.ME KI kurMARki SILIM.MA

T[UK.ME]
[DI mu]ldil-bat ina imMAR.TU IGI-ma KI
ni-ir-ti <la> KUR-ma u [it-bal]
31
32
DINGIR.ME KI kurMARki i-ab-b[u-su]
[If] Venus reaches (her) secret

place: favorable she reaches
the Lion, variant: [she climbs] 1
2/3 bru.
[If] Venus does not reach the
secret place and disappears: the
land will suf[fer].
[If] Venus becomes visible in the
West, reaches the secret place
and di[sappears]:
the gods [will be] reconciled with
Amurru.
[If] Venus becomes visible in the
west, does <not> reach the secret
place and [disappears]:
the gods will be ang[ry] with
Amurru.57
Clearly, Venus reaching its aar niirti is generally auspicious, particularly if the
planet sets when in that celestial location. If the planet does so in the western sky,
the positive nature of the phenomenon is aptly applied to the west, i.e., Amurru. Of
course, Venuss appearance in its secret place in the west is precisely the astronomical situation described in Assur A: Dilbat nab kakkab ina Amurri [ina arrn]
t Ea innamir . . . niirtu ikudma itbal, Venus, the brightest of the stars, was seen in
the west [in the Path] of Ea . . . it reached (its) secret (place) and then disappeared
(i 11ii 2, 56). Here as well, though it is not stated plainly by Esarhaddon, the
mantic significance of Venuss movements is especially auspicious for Amurru.
To summarize, the activity of Venus in Esarhaddons Assur A draws on an assemblage of omens related to the planets appearance in the Path of Ea in the west,
its reaching its secret place, and then its disappearance. All of these elements are
attested in the omen literature cited above, and all of them bode well for Amurru.
The third mantically significant celestial activity observed and reported in Assur A, concerns the planet Mars:
The role of Esarhaddon or his celestial diviners in innovating the term itself is unclear. See Koch-Westenholz, Mesopotamian Astrology, 52 n.3, and Klaus Koch, Neues von den
babylonischen Planeten-Hypsomata, WO 31 (2000/2001): 4671 (46).
56
Most recently, Koch has rejected the label hypsoma, since the use of the term does not
correspond to the classical definition (Koch, Neues von den babylonischen PlanetenHypsomata, 4671).
57
DT 47: 2732 (BPO 3, 23233).
55
20

6
7
8
9
10
11
mul
al-bat-a-nu pa-ri-is
pur-se-e kurMAR.TU.KI
ina KASKAL u-ut d-a
ib-il i-in-da-
da-na-an mal-ki u KUR-
-kal-lim gis-kim-bu-u
Mars, the giver of decisions of

the land Amurru, shone brightly
in the Path of the Ea (and) it
revealed its sign concerning the
strengthening of the ruler and
his land. 58
I am unfamiliar with an omen describing the appearance of Mars in the Path of Ea

from either the published omen compendia or from the reports and letters. A
bright Mars (balu) is, however, normally a bad thing. For example, Bulluu summarizes the planets ill quite succinctly:
r. 3
DI dal-bat-a-nu -ta-na-at-ma SIG5 ib-
il-ma a-i-t
If Mars becomes faint, it is good;

if it becomes bright, misfortune.59
The planets general malice extends to its mundane associations; Mars is malevolent, and it is associated with countries that are malevolent to the diviner and his
royal clients. In the Great Star List, a celestial divination compendium whose composition is usually dated to the Sargonid Period, the planet is associated with one
of the traditional enemies of the Land:
236
ul
237
ul
238
239
MAN-ma mula-u- ulna-ka-ru
sar6-ru ulUL ulKA5.A ulNIM.MAki

al-bat-a-nu
ul
7 zik-ru-u
The Sinister, The Strange, The

Hostile,
The Liar, The Evil, The Fox, The
Star of Elam.
Mars.
7 are its names.60
In the tradition of the Great Star List, then, Mars is to be mundanely associated
with Elam. As is the case with many such divinatory associations, however, there
are multiple traditions. Thus, the diviner Raili understands the planet as referring
to either of the traditional eastern or western foreign enemies of the Land, and
writes the king:
r. 5
mul
al-bat-a-nu MUL kurMAR.TUki
Mars is the star of Amurru.61
In Assur A, Esarhaddon states in no uncertain terms (in contrast to his description

of relevant Venus phenomena) that Marss mundane association is Amurru: albatnu pris purs Amurri, Mars, the giver of decisions of the land Amurru (ii 67).
In light of the omens cited above, Esarhaddon appears to make a mantically
powerful case for the divinely ordained legitimacy of his reign. The stars are right.
RINAP 4 57 ii 611.
SAA 8 114: rev. 3.
60
Koch-Westenholz, Mesopotamian Astrology, 198201, lines 23640.
61
SAA 8 383: rev. 5.
58
59
JEFFREY L. COOLEY
21
Nonetheless, the obvious problem with the celestial phenomena observed and
reported in Assur A is that they are not, in fact, propitious for Assyria, which is
normally identified as Subartu in the mantic tradition; they are, rather, an euangelion for Syria and the West (i.e., Amurru)! Thus, we are left with two questions.
First, why does the king choose to report these particular celestial phenomena and
to comment upon them? Certainly there was other notable astronomical activity
that could have been featured as the focus of divinatory attention. Second, why
does he choose to cite these particular omens to interpret those phenomena? Any
celestial divinerindeed anybodyworth his salt would have noted that Amurru is
not Assyria. The answer is based, I believe, in this texts propagandistic, agitative
function, as it was in regard to the positive framing of solar-lunar oppositions (in i
310).
The apodoses of Venus omens feature a range of concerns. Nonetheless, there
is an unsurprising focus on agricultural (and occasionally sexual) fecundity. For
example, of the seventy-two apodoses found in the so-called Venus Tablets of
Ammiaduqa, forty-three deal explicitly with the status of crops or rainfall.62 Thus
the auspicious appearance of the planet at the beginning of the reign of the king is
to be taken as a sign that, with his rise to the throne, the lands gods will be reconciled (sulum ilna) with it, and as a result the goddess plans on rewarding it with
ample and secure agricultural produce. This blessing is to be taken, thenceforth, as
a mantic given. Subsequent ominous events should be based on the fact that the
goddess has already visibly shown her approval of Esarhaddons kingship.
As for the appearance of the red planet in Assur A, a prominent Mars, as stated above, is normally trouble. But Mars mantic malice is by no means random;
rather, it is normally presented in terms of violence (such as the initiation of conflict, particularly with foreign enemies) and as bringing about the destruction of
livestock, presumably via disease. In either case, his bright appearance should not
be understood in good terms. Nonetheless, Esarhaddon would have his audience
believe that the planets exceptional luminosity at the initiation of his reign is, in
fact, a positive omen. The decision/oracle (puruss) of even that god has been appropriated by the king. If even Mars is on the kings side, how can anyone be
against him? Diviners should take note: the red planets pervasive pestilence has
been purged!
But this inscriptions most stunning mantic claim is that, with relation to both
the Venus and the Mars omens, Assyria is to be identified with Amurru. No modern
commentator to my knowledge has dealt with this identification, and almost every
later known mantic association militates against it. Certainly, it is conceivable that
Erica Reiner and David Pingree, Babylonian Planetary Omens Part 1: Enma Anu Enli: Tablet 63, the Venus Tablet of Ammiaduqa (BMes 2/1; Malibu: Undena Publications, 1975), 1314.
Crop production and rainfall = apodosis types 15, 9, 13, 16, 17, 2327 (type 1 = omens #2, 6,
12, 15, 30b, 31a, 32ab, 41, 5255; type 2 = #23b, 27a, 28b, 31b; type 3 = #21; 30a; type 4 = #7, 51;
type 5 = #34; type 9 = #1, 57; type 13 = #26b, 28a, 29b, 36, 39; type 16 = #59; type 17 = #8, 9, 17,
18, 46, 47, 50, 60; type 23 = #26a; type 24 = #19; type 25 = #45; type 26 = #5; type 27 = #40). Further examples may be found in BPO 3.
62
22
lying behind this association is the possible Aramean descent of the Sargonid line,
or at the least Esarhaddons predilection for Harran.63 Nonetheless, Assyrias consistent divinatory identification in contemporary texts is Subartu, not Amurru. As
the Assyrian diviner Nabu-ae-eriba explains to the king, in what must have been
an excruciatingly obvious exegetical moment: annu Subartu, We are Subartu.64
The diviners are normally not that boorish, however; they typically assume that
the king understands the association. As for the normal identification of Amurru,
the Babylon-based Assyrian diviner Mar-Issar explains to Esarhaddon:
19
20
21
22
23
i-su-ri lum-ma-ni ina UGU kurMAR.TU

me-me-e-ni a-na MAN EN-a i-qa-bi-i-u
kur
a-mur-ru-u kura-at-tu-u
kursu-tu-u -ni
kur
kal-di
Perhaps the scholars can tell

something about the (concept)
Amurru to the king, my lord.
Amurru means the Hittite country (Syria) and the nomad land
or, according to another tradition, Chaldea.65
How, then, should we explain this problem in Assur A? The omen in Esarhaddons inscription is deliberate and specific. It is not merely a general assertion that
the gods favor the king. Since the real knowledge of celestial divination otherwise
shown in the inscription is too good, it would be silly to say simply that the king
(or his agent composing the inscription) does not know what he is talking about.
On the contrary, the king knows precisely what he is doing. In terms of propaganda, the text is to be considered both integrative and agitative. By establishing that
the gods have mantically shown their support for Esarhaddons reign, the king is
presenting himself as the uncontested, divinely approved monarch. This comforting assertion establishes the kings authority and legitimacy and thus serves an
integrative function. But the specific divinatory claims also agitate. The Venus and
Mars circumstances serve as examples of how the king expects his diviners to approach ominous phenomena throughout his reign. By appropriating the Amurru
association for Assyria, Esarhaddon is stating that all omina, if they are positive,
should be considered for application to the king and Assyria regardless of the hermeneutical gymnastics required. And while there would have been skeptics among
the diviners regarding the applicability of these omens to the king, Esarhaddon
could, in this paradigmatic instance, point to the fact that his reading of the phenomena, however outlandish it might have seemed, played out in reality. To paraphrase the omen: malku u mtu idnin, The ruler and his land grew stronger.
For a brief discussion of the idea of the Sargonids Aramean extraction, see Earl
Leichty, Esarhaddons Exile: Some Speculative History, in Studies Presented to Robert D. Biggs,
June 4, 2004 (ed. Martha T. Roth et al; Chicago: Oriental Institute), 18991. For Sargonid patronage of Harran, see Steven W. Holloway, Aur is King! Aur is King!: Religion in the Exercise of
Power in the Neo-Assyrian Empire (CHANE 10; Boston/Leiden: Brill, 2001), 388425.
64
SAA 8 60:4
65
SAA 10 351:1923.
63
JEFFREY L. COOLEY
23
Indeed, Esarhaddon secured his throne and restored the temple to the god Assur.
After all, the fulfillment of an oracular fate is the truest test of a prognostication.
THE EFFECTS OF ESARHADDONS PROPAGANDA: AGITATIVE ACTION

Since propagandas ultimate goal is to motivate groups to undertake specific
action that favors the circumstances of the propagandist, it is important to ask if
there is any evidence that the community of celestial diviners received Esarhaddons programmatic assertions and incorporated them into their thought and acted on them. Ideally, I would like to present a detailed statistical analysis of the
omens cited for application in the reports to Esarhaddon, with a breakdown including the percentage of positive/negative apodoses correlated with particular
celestial diviners and the diviners respective physical loci. That is, however, outside the scope of this modest study. What I can point to in this limited foray are
examples of diviners blatantly breaking the rules of mantic hermeneutics. While
these methods of exegesis are admittedly rather flexible, there are, nonetheless,
certain rules that tended to be applied nearly ubiquitously, and the diviners themselves were undoubtedly conscious of them.66 So, when a particular diviner bends
or breaks these rules, it is sometimes obvious. And I suggest that in such cases unorthodox mantic practice might be best understood as the diviners response to
royal propaganda.
The diviners in the kings employ were charged to observe and report anything that could be mantically significant, and this often included phenomena that
were inauspicious. As the Babylonian diviner Zakir writes:
1
2
3
4
5
DI 30 TR NIGIN-ma mulGR.TAB
ina - GUB NIN.DINGIR.RA.ME
u-ta-a-a NITA.ME
: UR.MA.ME .ME-ma
A.R TAR.ME
If the moon is surrounded by a

halo, and the Scorpion stands in
it: entu-priestesses will be made
pregnant; men, variant: lions will
rage and cut off traffic.67
The omen is clearly negative, and the diviner assumes that his client, the king, will
recognize it as such. But Zakir cannot simply push the target of the omen off to a
hostile neighboring state (which is another method for diverting an omens target,
as we will see below); while lions/men harassing traffic is a misfortune that could
befall any nation, other nations do not have entu-priestesses. Nonetheless, the diviner writes that it should cause the king no concern:
6
r. 1
2
it-tum ul ta-lap-pat
- ma-a-ar-tum LUGAL
ana LUGAL EN-a -pu-ra
The sign does not affect (us).

Because of the kings watch I
wrote to the king my lord.68
Brown, Mesopotamian Planetary Astronomy-Astrology, 157.

SAA 8 307:15.
68
SAA 8 307:6, rev. 12.
66
67
24
He does not say just how he arrives at this conclusion, but it is clear that he has
casually dismissed the portent as irrelevant. He does note, however, that the sole
reason he is reporting it is because it is his responsibility to do so.69
Occasionally the unorthodox nature of an oracle is so egregious that even the
diviner himself feels the need to explain his interpretive logic. In the muchdiscussed SAA 10 112, for example, we see the Babylonian celestial diviner Beluezib deliberately adjust the traditional method of interpreting an omen so that it
would result in Esarhaddons favor during a campaign against the Manneans.70 The
diviner discusses the possible oracular significance of the benchmark lunar appearances: the crescent moon at the beginning of the month, and the full moon on
the 15th or 16th of the month. The king should be concerned according to the normal rules of omen interpretation:
21
DI 30 NU IGI.LAL-ma us-ka-ru IGI-ir

nu-kr-ME ina KUR GL.ME
If the moon is not seen but the

crescent is seen, there will be
hostilities in the land.71
As noted in Esarhaddons mantic program introduced in Assur A (above), the appearance of the full moon on the 15th, rather than the 14th, is not welcome news:
69
See Koch-Westenholz, Mesopotamian Astrology, 66. Another Babylonian diviner, Munnabitu, also reflects on his responsibilities to Esarhaddon in SAA 8 316: rev. 1214:
LUGAL -e-mu il-tak-na-an-ni um-ma EN.NUN-a ur u mim-ma ti-du- q-ba-a en-na mim-ma
ina pa-ni-a ba-nu- -lam KUR ina UGU LUGAL
be-l-a a-a-bu a-na LUGAL al-tap-ra
The king gave an order to me:

Keep watch for me, and whatever
you know tell me. Now I have
written to the king whatever appears auspicious to me, and the
well-being of the land is good, in
respect to the king my lord.
While the epistolary context makes Munnabitus comments admittedly somewhat telegraphic, on the face of it the diviner seems to understand his obligation to the king as reporting
strictly propitious omens (see discussion in A. Leo Oppenheim, Divination and Celestial
Observation in the Late Assyrian Empire, Centaurus 14 [1969]: 97135 (11415); and KochWestenholz, Mesopotamian Astrology, 6566). Nonetheless, a brief scan of this diviners other
reports (SAA 8 316322) shows that he has no qualms about reporting negative omens to the
king, even going so far at one point to suggest the performance of a namburb to obviate the
oracular fate portended by a lunar eclipse. I am tempted to postulate that, were the order in
which these reports were written apparent, we might see a development in regard to how
Munnabitu appreciates his role in counseling the king (i.e., towards a more jingoistic character), but this is entirely speculative.
70
This summary is based on the lengthy discussion in Giovanni B. Lanfranchi, Scholars
and Scholarly Tradition in Neo-Assyrian Times: A Case Study, SAAB 3 (1989): 99114. See
also Brown, Mesopotamian Planetary Astronomy-Astrology, 15758; and Koch-Westenholz, Mesopotamian Astrology, 14849.
71
SAA 10 112:21.
JEFFREY L. COOLEY
23
UD.15.KM 30 u 20 KI a-a-me
IGI.ME
24
KR dan-nu giTUKUL.ME- ana KUR

L-a K URU-ka KR ina-qar
25
(If) the moon and the sun are

seen together on the 15th day: a
strong enemy will raise his weapons against the land; the enemy
will tear down your city gates.72
Now, according to the normal rules of exegesis, the mtu/KUR should refer to Esarhaddons land (i.e., Assyria; or at the very least, Akkad/Babylonia, which by extension is Esarhaddons land). The enemy, nakru/lKR, should refer to foreign enemies
of the mtu. Earlier in the letter, however, Bel-uezib has turned this exegetical
principle on its head, indicating to his master in no uncertain terms how the
omens to follow should be understood:
4
5
6
7
8
. . . ki-i us-ka-ru
u- ki-i UD.15.KM in-na-mar ki-i
UD.16.KM
in-nam-ma-ru lum-nu-um u- ina UGU
kur
man-na-a-a
u- a-ar lKR ina UGU KUR i-te-ebbu-
KUR UL-nu an-na-a i-zab-bil . . .
Whether it was a crescent, or

whether it appears on the 15th, or
whether they (the moon and
sun) appear on the 16th day, it is
an evil portent, and it concerns
the Manneans. Wherever an
enemy attacks a country, the
country will carry this evil portent.73
Any of the possible lunar phenomena, Bel-uezib concedes, are negative omina.
But the diviner maintains that the king has nothing to worry about, because in
such situations the mtu/KUR does not a priori refer to Assyria/Babylonia, but rather, the mtu/KUR is the land that is being attacked, whatever region that happens
to be; and that land is to bear the negative consequences of the observed omen.
That is to say, in this particular situation Esarhaddon, as the aggressor, is in fact
the nakru/lKR, while the defending nation, Mannea, is the mtu/KUR! This is a
dramatic reorientation of the normal hermeneutical conventions. As noted, normally the Land (mtu/KUR) refers to the country of the Mesopotamian monarch,
while the foreigner/enemy (nakru/lKR) is just that; and certainly the original
author of the omen intended it this way. Bel-uezib, however, has twisted the
omen rather dramatically. His reading is not a slender alteration of hermeneutics
resulting in a subtle alteration of meaning. On the contrary, the diviner completely
reverses the application of the omen!
How do we evaluate Bel-uezibs novelty in interpretation? Lanfranchi maintains that the diviner was engaging in normal, if pioneering, scholarship.74 Alternatively, Koch-Westenholz suggests the man a crackpot.75 While not dismissing
these possibilities entirely, I suggest that the diviner was properly responding to
Esarhaddons propaganda campaign. He was finding a way, in spite of the pressure
SAA 10 112:2324.
SAA 10 112:47.
74
Lanfranchi, Scholars and Scholarly Tradition, 11114.
75
Mesopotamian Astrology, 149.
72
73
26
of the interpretive tradition that he inherited, to apply otherwise negative omina

to the kings benefit. This does not exclude blatant sycophancy, incompetence, or
methodological innovation on Bel-uezibs part. On the contrary, it contextualizes
it.
Another possible example of the effects of Esarhaddons propaganda can be
seen in one of the diviners reports interpreting the celestial events that took place
around the 16th of Adar, 669 BCE, about a decade into Esarhaddons reign.76 Both
Saturn and a bright Mars, it seems, were observed in a lunar halo. The Babylonian
diviner Raili sees this as good news for the king:
1
2
3
4
5
6
DI 30 TR NGIN-ma [2 MUL.ME ina

TR KI 30 GUB.ME]
BALA UD.ME [GD.DA.ME]
DI 20 ina TR [30 GUB ina KUR kit-t
GL]
DUMU it-[ti AD- kit-t i-ta-mi]
sa-lam [ki--ti]
30 TR NGIN-ma [mulUDU.IDIM.SAG
U ina - GUB-ma]

halo, and [two stars stand in the
halo with the moon]: a reign of
[long] days.
If the sun [stands] in the halo [of
the moon: there will be truth in
the land], the son [will speak the
truth with his father; universal]
peace.
The moon was surrounded by a
halo [and Saturn stood in it].77
First, Raili deals with the conjunction of Saturn and Mars in the lunar halo, citing
an omen that describes two unspecified stars appearing in such a configuration
with the moon. The lack of specificity in the omen allows for its application here.
Then the diviner cites another omen, whose protasis describes the appearance of
the sun within a lunar halo, a seemingly impossible event. In a manner typical of
the exegesis of the celestial diviners, one celestial feature can be equated with a
certain set of other features. This method broadens the possible phenomena to
which any particular omen can apply. In this particular case, Raili has equated the
sun with Saturn, a common connection.78
The diviner goes on to deal with the other star that was observed in the celestial halo:
7
8
9
10
r. 1
76
DI 30 TR NGIN-ma mul[al-bat-a-nu
ina - GUB]
Z bu-lim ina [KUR D.A].BI me-re-
[]
u Z.LUM.MA NU SI.S
kur
MAR.TUki TUR-[ir]
DI 30 TR <NGIN-ma> mulUDUN ina
- GUB-iz

halo, and [Mars stands in it]: loss
of cattle; in [the who]le [land]
cultiva[ted fields] and dates will
not prosper; Amurru will diminish.
If the moon <is surrounded> by a
halo, and the Yoke star stands in
For a discussion and summary of the reports related to this, see Koch-Westenholz,
Mesopotamian Astrology, 14051, 18085.
77
SAA 8 383:16.
78
See the discussion of the logic behind this association in Brown, Mesopotamian Planetary Astronomy-Astrology, 6970.
JEFFREY L. COOLEY
2
3
4
LUGAL -ma KUR-su TUR-ir

LUGAL NIM.MAki
mul
UDUN mulal-bat-a-nu
27
it: the king will die, and his land

will diminish; the king of Elam
will die.
The Yoke star means Mars.79
It is the red planet that was seen there, and this might not be good. Raili cites two
omens he believes apply in this situation. In both cases, possible apodoses are quite
negative and could cause concern for the king. In the first case, two possible apodoses indicate the loss of livestock and agricultural produce for the whole land. This
is not a problem, however, because Raili ties the possible apodoses to a third that
directs these disasters to the west, to Amurru. The second omen describes the appearance of the Yoke star (mulUDUN/nru, normally equated with Botes) in a lunar
halo, another apparent astronomical impossibility.80 Again, the first apodosis is
terrible: the king will die, and his land will diminish. But the diviner makes it
clear that it is not the king and his land, i.e., Esarhaddon and Assyria, that will suffer; rather, it is the king of Elam and his land that will. In case it was not obvious by
this point, Raili then states what should have been evident: the Yoke star in this
omen is to be identified as Mars.81
Raili then summarizes the results of his reading of the celestial phenomena:
r. 5
6
7
8
mul
al-bat-a-nu MUL kurMAR.TUki

UL kurMAR.TUki u NIM.MA[ki]
mul
UDU.IDIM.SAG.U MUL
kur
URI[ki]
SIG5 LUGAL be-l-[ia]
Mars is the star of Amurru; evil

for Amurru and Elam. Saturn is
the star of Akkad. It is good for
the king [my] lord.82
As in Assur A, Mars is associated with Amurruhowever, in line with orthodox

hermeneutics, Amurru is not to be taken as code for Assyria.83 Rather, the land of
Esarhaddon is Akkad, here not to be equated with Assyria per se but with Babylonia, over which the Assyrian monarch rules. While Railis reading does not overtly
respond to the details of Esahaddons propaganda in Assur A, nonetheless, his desire to interpret celestial phenomena plausibly understood as ominous in an auspicious manner should not merely be taken as soulless toadying. I suggest, rather,
that it is the result of the kings multi-faceted propaganda campaign, of which Assur A is but an example, to orient prognostications positively to the monarchs
benefit.
If Railis hermeneutics, though skewed toward the king, are nevertheless
within the spectrum of acceptable mantic practice, the prognostication offered by
SAA 8 383:710, rev. 14.

Cf. MUL.APIN I iv 3139, i.e., the list of stars in the moons path does not include this
constellation.
81
This equation also found in the Great Star List (Koch-Westenholz, Mesopotamian Astrology, 19091:102).
82
SAA 8 383: rev. 58.
83
RINAP 4 57 ii 611.
79
80
28
another Babylonian diviner, apiku, is exegetically egregious. The diviner begins

his reading by noting the full moon on the 16th of the month:
1
2
3
4
DI UD.16.KM 30 u 20 KI a-ame IGI.ME

LUGAL ana LUGAL UL-tim KINr LUGAL ina .GAL-
a-na ID.ME ITI -ta-sar
GR KR ana KUR- GAR-an KR
al-a-ni DU.ME
If on the 16th day the moon and

sun are seen together: one king
will send (messages of) evil to
another; the king will be shut up
in his palace for the length of a
month; the step of the enemy
will be set towards his land; the
enemy will march around victoriously.84
At first glance, apiku seems to be offering the king a negative understanding of

this phenomenon. In light of Bel-uezibs prognostication above (SAA 10 112), I
suggest that apiku, too, assumes that the nakru here should be understood as Assyria, while the mtu has to be its enemies, particularly since a full moon on the
16th is a positive omen consistently applied to Subartu/Assyria.85 The fact that the
diviner ends his reading on an overwhelmingly positive note supports this understanding.
apiku then applies some of the same omens Raili applied above, namely,
Mars in a lunar halo and the sun in a lunar halo (notably, he does not equate the
Yoke/mulUDUN/nru with Mars, as Raili did).86 Thus far, the diviner has applied his
omens more or less responsibly. But the way in which he concludes his reading is
surprising. apiku explains to the king, in direct contrast to Railis orthodox associations, that Mars stands for Assyria, while Saturn is for Amurru:
7
10
11
al-bat-a-[nu MUL ] kurSU.BIR4.KI

ba-i-il
-ru-ru na-i SIG5 kurSU.BIR4.KI
u-
mulUDU.IDIM.SAG.U MUL
kur
MAR.TU
un-nu-ut -ru-ru- ma-aq-tu
UL kurMAR.TUki ti-ib <<KUR>>
12
a-na kurMAR.TUki ib-ba--i
8
9
Mar[s, the star of] Subartu, is

bright and carries radiance; this
is good for Subartu. And Saturn,
the star of Amurru, is faint, and
its radiance is fallen; this is bad
for Amurru; an attack of an enemy will occur against Amurru.87
KR
As stated, this is in conflict with the typical associations applied by his colleagues.
It is, I would argue, at least a partial response to the propaganda vision of celestial
divination presented in Esarhaddons Assur A. There, Esarhaddon maintained that
Mars was the star of Amurru, and that Amurru meant Assyria. After at least a dec-
SAA 8 491:14.
Cf., SAA 8 82, 102, 111, 177.
86
SAA 8 491:59.
87
SAA 8 491: rev. 712.
84
85
JEFFREY L. COOLEY
29
ade of identifying Subartu rather than Amurru as Assyria, apiku has no desire to
make this claim. However, Esarhaddons other programmatic assertionthat a
bright Mars (albatnu . . . ibil)88 bodes well for Assyriais adopted by the diviner
and is applied to the astronomical situation in order to create an auspicious reading. This can be understood as a result of effective agitative propaganda on Esarhaddons part.
CONCLUSION: CELESTIAL DIVINATION IN ASSUR A AS PROPAGANDA

If we categorize the Neo-Assyrian royal inscriptions as true propaganda directed toward the literate intelligentsia, we have to identify the desired outcome,
the action which the particular presentation of celestial divination of the propaganda campaign was intended to provoke in its audience. The most obvious is
simply integration. The king is presented as the pious recipient of the gods mantic
guidance. The fact that he receives accurate guidance, as evidenced by the successful outcomes of his application of that counsel, indicates that the gods support
him. Furthermore, if the gods support him, so should the audience.
I suggest, moreover, that the presentation of celestial divination in the royal
inscriptions, such as Esarhaddons Assur A, was also meant to be agitative, that is to
elicit specific behavior in his audience. By framing the mantic counsel provided by
the gods as always auspicious, it was meant to color future interpretations of mantic phenomena in the kings favor. The cheery prognostications offered Esarhaddon by Zakir, Raili and apiku are, in a sense, rather typical, even if their hermeneutics are sometimes acrobatic. As Koch-Westenholz notes, the celestial diviners
of the Neo-Assyrian period demonstrate a certain tendency to see things from the
bright side, framing their readings in a positive light whenever possible.89 I do not
argue with this assessment. I contend, however, that this penchant for optimism is
not merely the reflex of an opportunistic or competitive initiative. Rather, the
diviners are responding to the propaganda of the crown. Esarhaddon (or his propagandist, i.e., the scholar who composed the inscription) deliberately and systematically calibrated his own image in the royal inscriptions to elicit the specific
mantic tone in which he wished the diviners to frame their forecasts. This is a far
cry from von Sodens evaluation of Esarhaddon, in which the monarch is a superstitious pawn of manipulative astrologers.90 But it is also a modification of Parpolas more cautious appraisal, that Esarhaddons diviners were primarily guided by
their own professional ethics.91 I propose instead that the diviners were following
the lead of their monarch, so that their activity would, perhaps, bring additional
RINAP 4 57 ii 611.
90
Wolfram von Soden, Herrscher im Alten Orient (Berlin: Springer, 1954), 125.
91
Simo Parpola, Letters from Assyrian Scholars to the Kings Esarhaddon and Assurbanipal, Part
II: Commentaries and Appendices (AOAT 5/2; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1983),
XVIIXX.
88
89
30
royal favor. This belief was founded on the kings stated designs, as expressed in
such texts as Assur A.
There is more than this, however. In conforming to the agenda set by the
king, in acting on his propaganda, the diviners themselves were transformed. As
Ellul notes,
For action makes propagandas effect irreversible. He who acts in obedience to
propaganda can never go back. He is now obliged to believe in that propaganda because of his past action. He is obliged to receive from it his justification and authority, without which his action will seem to him absurd or unjust, which would
be intolerable. He is obliged to continue to advance in the direction indicated by
propaganda, for action demands more action.92
Though Elluls words are rather dramatic, they nonetheless ring true. At first the
diviners were not the initiators, but were, rather, the targets of the propagandist;
however, when they began to offer readings that mantically confirmed the gods
support for the crown, they too became satellite propaganda agents.93 They became locally-based, living witnesses of the image the king wished to project.
My evaluation leads to a further issue. I have argued that Esarhaddon could
manipulate the mantic system to his benefit, but it is still unclear whether he was a
true believer in celestial divination. In Koch-Westenholzs evaluation:
It has been suggested that ominous events, cleverly manipulated, were cited
merely to allay the fears of the rank-and-file soldiers on a campaign, or to justify
what the king wished to do anyway. This is most unlikely. Propitious omens may
indeed have been put to effective use in royal propaganda; but all available evidence suggests that the kings themselves believed in divination just as sincerely as
everyone else.94
What I have maintained here is that, more than simply using the academic results
of divination for propagandistic purposes, the Assyrian monarch sought to manipulate the results of the mantic process for his own benefit. Can this be reconciled
with the idea that Esarhaddon seemed to genuinely believe in the validity of the
practice as a method which could reveal the will of the gods?
Though we should always remember that the inner thoughts of any ancient
personage are only accessible to us through our reconstructions of their words and
deeds, I would answer this question in the affirmative, even in light of this study.
As Koch-Westenholz has noted, certain of Esarhaddons divinersBalas and Nabae-eriba, for examplehad no misgivings about offering him negative readings.95 A large number of letters sent to the Assyrian monarchs originating with
Assyrian scholars suggest the performance of or offer advice on a namburb. This is
witness to the fact that Esarhaddon did not trust all of his diviners equally. Levels
Similarly, see Liverani, The Ideology of the Neo-Assyrian Empire, 302.
94
95
92
93
JEFFREY L. COOLEY
31
of trust were not solely linked to loyalty and scribal competence. The model I present here supposes that Esarhaddon treated his diviners based on the particular
ways in which he thought them useful. This fact was recognized previously by Oppenheim; it seems some scholars, for example, were solely responsible for celestial
observation sans interpretation.96 Those he was closest to were the ones he took
seriously when it came to mantic and ritual matters that were of substance to the
well-being of the state. They gave him honest divinatory counsel to which he responded ritually (in terms of performing appropriate namburbs, etc.) and/or in
terms of policy, and he compensated them appropriately.97 Other diviners in the
kings employ served as alternative observers of astronomical phenomena and,
ultimately, as targets of and eventually agents of the kings propaganda. This is
similar to Oppenheims conclusion, that it was really only the diviners at the central Assyrian court that had influence on the kings policy decisions.98 But it adds
another dimension. While the crown benefited from the data they collected, the
interpretations they offered, and any new techniques they developed, the scribes
were, as the product of the kings propaganda, the scholarly manifestation of the
gods patronage of Esarhaddon. Their presence in the traditional intellectual centers across the land, such as Babylon, Borsippa, Uruk, Nippur, and Kutha, meant
that they had a robust potential as agents of Assyrian propaganda within important administrative circles. This is related to the idea, fully developed by
Nevling Porter, that Esarhaddon capitalized on the Babylonian model of ideal kingship for the purpose of maintaining his hegemony in the south.99 I maintain, however, that this was done more aggressively than via simple patronage of ancient
Babylonian institutions, and that the king did not just passively project an image in
stone relief and clay tablets. In asserting this desired image in his own inscriptions
Esarhaddon actively and systematically encouraged diviners to find mantic justification for his authority.100
96
Oppenheim, Divination and Celestial Observation, 118.

On the matter of compensation, see the brief discussion by Oppenheim, Divination
and Celestial Observation, 11517 and Brown, Mesopotamian Planetary Astronomy-Astrology,
45. As for the namburb, the ritual is only mentioned five times in the reports, three times by
Assyrian diviners (SAA 8 71, 82, 206) and twice by Babylonians (288 and 320). The vast majority of references to performing a namburb come, of course, from the letters of the Assyrian
scholars (see the index in SAA 10, 349 for references).
98
Oppenheim, Divination and Celestial Observation, 12021.
99
Porter, Image, Power, Politics, especially 77117.
100
In a sense, this aspect of the royal inscriptions functions opposite to material such as
the Kuthean Legend of Naram-Sin, a cautionary tale composed by religious professionals that
warned kings to respect the will of the gods as related by diviners so that they would be
victorious in warfare (for the text, see Joan Goodnick Westenholz, Legends of the Kings of Akkade: The Texts [MC 7; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1997], 263368). In contrast, the royal inscriptions caution the diviners that the gods have shown their approval of the king by virtue
of his victory on the field of combat. Thus, they should respect the kings divinely mandated
authority and interpret the omens correctly.
97
2
The King at the Crossroads between
Divination and Cosmology
Beate Pongratz-Leisten
INTRODUCTION
In the last decades, Assyriology has gone to great lengths to divest divination
of its magical overtone and redefine it as a form of early science. Jean Bottro, in
his 1974 article Symptmes, signes, critures, was one of the first ancient Near
Eastern scholars to stress the central position of divination in Mesopotamian intellectual life, and scholars concerned with divinatory texts followed in this vein.1
The diviners produced treatises of their craft, which in their vocabulary, technical
nomenclature, the same procedure and strict order of the analysis, investigation,
and explanation showed great uniformity with treatises of other disciplines,2
1
This article contains sections from Chapter Nine of my book Religion and Ideology in Assyria, in preparation.
2
Jean Bottro, Symtmes, signes, critures, in Divination et Rationalit (ed. J.-P.
Vernant et al.; Paris: ditions du Seuil, 1974), 70193, 81. See more recently also the contributions by Francesca Rochberg now available in her volume of collected essays, In the Path of the
Moon. Babylonian Celestial Divination and its Legacy (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2010 ; see further
Niek Veldhuis, The Theory of Knowledge and the Practice of Celestial Divination, in Divination and Interpretation of Signs in the Ancient World (ed. Amar Annus; Oriental Institute Seminars 8; Chicago: The Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago, 2010), 7791; Eckart
Frahm, Reading the Tablet, the Exta, and the Body: The Hermeneutics of Cuneiform Signs
in Babylonian and Assyrian Text Commentaries and Divinatory Texts, in Divination and Interpretation of Signs in the Ancient World, 93141; his Babylonian and Assyrian Text Commentaries
(Guides to the Mesopotamian Textual Record 5; Mnster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2011); and Abraham
Winitzer, Writing and Mesopotamian Divination: The Case of Alternative Interpretation,
JCS 63 (2011): 7794.
33
34
demonstrating that it was the same universal logic that lay behind all scientific
treatises, whether these were on the subject of legislation, medicine, mathematics,
musicology, or divination. While such a new modern approach to divination was
crucial to our understanding of the ancient theory of knowledge, the categorization of divination as science simultaneously distorted our modern perspective
insofar as it separated divination, at least on the surface, from what we categorize
as religion, creating an artificial divide between science and religion.3 Religion is,
however, in itself a category that misrepresents ancient cultures by insinuating a
divide between the sacred and the profane. By tracing their theory of knowledge
back to divine origins, the ancients themselves reveal their framework of thought,
namely, that divination originated with the gods and thus was part of the cosmic
order.
The cosmic order was conceived as cosmic stability (kittu) decreed by the gods
and civic order or straightness (maru) enacted by the king as a means of rendering judgments (dna dnu, puruss parsu). The very purpose of the oracles was
to gain foreknowledge of and to align any human plans with divine intentionality
as it was inscribed into the cosmic scheme. The function of the human legal system
was to readjust and restore the civil order as part of the cosmic order.4 Yet the
ultimate judicial authority again lay with the gods who could be appealed to by
means of oaths and the ordeal.
The ancient Sumero-Babylonian system of thought conceived of cultural texts
such as omen compendia and myth equally as products of divine creation. The
Catalogue of Texts and Authors5 and the Enmeduranki Legend,6 both dating to the first
millennium BCE, trace the origin of divination back to the gods thus illustrating
that line of thought best. However, notwithstanding the message of the colophons
affirming that the scribe did not alter the text, there was no notion of a closed
canon. Rather, the ancients considered their cultural texts as part of the cosmic
truth and stability (kittu) determined by divine decree in the mythical past. Such
reasoning entails a different notion of the sacredness of the text, as the notion of
inalterability applies to the content rather than to the process of textualization of
the individual text. The fact that the Catalogue of Texts and Authors assigned the
knowledge of the exorcist together with the most important omen compendia
including Enma Anu Enlil and two major poems dealing with Ninurtas deeds to the
god Ea, therefore, is of utmost importance for our understanding of the meaning of
Francesca Rochberg, The Two Cultures and the Historical Perspective on Science as a
Culture, Forum for Public Policy 2006, which is freely available online at the following URL:
http://www.forumonpublicpolicy.com/archive07/rochberg.pdf.
4
Sophie Dmare-Lafont, Judicial Decision-Making: Judges and Arbitrators, in The Oxford Handbook of Cuneiform Culture (ed. K. Radner and E. Robson; Oxford: Oxford University
Press), 33557.
5
W. G. Lambert, A Catalogue of Texts and Authors, JCS 26 (1962): 5977.
6
W. G. Lambert, The Qualifications of Babylonian Diviners, in Festschrift fr Rykle Borger zu seinem 65. Geburtstag: tikip santakki mala bamu (CM 10; ed. S. M. Maul; Groningen:
Styx: 1998), 14158.
3
BEATE PONGRATZ-LEISTEN
35
the institution of kingship, its interaction with diviners, and ancient historiography. Ninurta in his role as a warrior defending the cosmic order against chaos
epitomized the mission of kingship. Foreknowledge of the will of the gods was crucial to royal performance, as it had to be aligned with the original cosmic scheme.
Coupling divination and the Ninurta mythology in the ancient Catalogue inscribed
the mandate of kingship into the cosmic scheme as designed by the gods. This
combination of combat myths and omen compendia further highlights the paradigmatic function of both genres for the cultural debate revolving around the
kings as historical figures. Both genres formed the paradigm for the ancient historiography as represented by the annals, which in a tropological way reiterated the
same great story of the king having contributed to establishing the cosmic order
and thus having met the expectations brought to the office of kingship.7 In contrast to the modern endeavor to write an event history, historical details represented just additional variations to the plotline as told in the original combat myth.
Myth as a referential system thus formed the matrix of the historical account,8 and
the omen compendia as an intellectual reflection on rulership per se provided the
paradigmatic framework. It is with that notion of the cultural texts at the interface
between the dynamics of a continuous process of textual production and the authoritative cosmological framework that I will pursue my inquiry into the royal
appropriation of divination.
The Sources
In the ancient Near East, divination probably predated the origin of writing.9
Among the various divinatory techniques of extispicy, i.e., examining the entrails
in general, more specifically hepatoscopy, i.e., the examination of the liver, was
the most prominent one, and, according to Oppenheim likely the first to come into
existence. While no omen reports have been transmitted from the early periods,
Early Dynastic profession lists and numerous administrative tablets from Ebla10
point to the practice of extispicy performed during the third millennium BCE. The
administrative documents from Ebla listing sheep for the purpose of extispicy not
only reveal that it was practiced on a large scale on behalf of the court, but also
point to the kings sponsorship and patronage of the craft. The close relationship
On the notion of tropological narrative see Hayden White, Figural Realism: Studies in the
Mimesis Effect (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1999).
8
For this kind of understanding of myth see Hans Blumenberg, Work on Myth (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1985) and the excellent essay by Markus May, Von Blumenberg zu Bloom
(und retour): Intertextualitt als quasimythologische Struktur, in Komparatistik als Arbeit am
Mythos (ed. M. Schmitz-Emans and U. Lindemann; Heidelberg: Synchron, 2004), 13951.
9
A. Leo Oppenheim, Ancient Mesopotamia: Portrait of a Dead Civilization (rev. ed.; completed by E. Reiner; Chicago / London: University of Chicago Press, 1977), 216.
10
Alfonso Archi, Divination at Ebla, in Festschrift Gernot Wilhelm anlsslich seines 65.
Geburtstages am 28. Januar 2010 (ed. J. Fincke; Dresden: Islet-Verlag, 2009), 45-56.
7
36
between the king and the diviners as royal advisors in cultic, political, diplomatic,
and administrative affairs, as illustrated by letters from the Old Babylonian period
onward, finds support in the seals of the diviners positioning themselves in direct
relation to the king, as illustrated by the seal of Asqudum, diviner to king ZimriLim of Mari. For instance: Zimri-Lim, appointed by the god Dagan; Asqudum, the
diviner.11
After the mention of divination in the administrative texts from Ebla, several
hundred years had to pass before the divinatory practice itself was transmitted in
writing, and by the early second millennium BCE three major genres emerged in a
short sequence:
1) the liver models from Mari, dating to the early second millennium BCE,
known as the so-called akkanakku period, which partially overlapped the end of
the Ur III period and survived its collapse for several more decades.
More than half of these omens sound like reports; however, as their verbal
forms are in the preterite, they seem to have had a different purpose, which so far
has been recognized as didactic but which could equally be paradigmatic, as illustrated by the following examples:
Rutten, RA 35, No. 3:
a-mu-ut Na-ra-am-dSn
s A-p-s-al
il-q-
Omen of Naram-Sn
who conquered Apial.
Rutten, RA 35, No. 6:

a-mu-ut
-hu-ra-im
si12 I-b-dSn
ba-taq(?) ma-ti-u i-ba-al-ki-li-u
Omen
of diminishment
of Ibbi-Sn
against whom a fraction of his country
made a revolt.13
Support for the suggestion of reading these omens mentioning the kings of the
Akkad and Ur III period as exemplary with regard to the office of kingship comes
from Hazor where several liver models have been found.14 The editors of one of
these liver models state:
11
Dominique Charpin, Patron and Client: Zimri-Lim and Asqudum the Diviner, in The
Oxford Handbook of Cuneiform Culture, 248-69.
12
Read here as , the relative pronoun in the genitive.
13
See Marguerite Rutten, Trente-deux modles de foies en argile inscrits provenant de
Tell-Hariri (Mari), RA 35 (1938): 36-70.
14
Benno Landsberger and Hayim Tadmor, Fragments of Clay Liver Models from Hazor,
IEJ 14 (1964): 201-218; Wayne Horowitz, Takayoshi Oshima, and Abraham Winitzer, Hazor
17: Another Clay Liver Model, IEJ 60 (2010): 133-45. The text on the Hazor liver model runs
as follows:
37
What is striking about this model with its accompanying text is its similarity not
only to the liver model tradition but, more importantly, to the Old Babylonian
omen collections from Mesopotamia proper. This is made clear by a review of
some of the points already discussed, including: 1) the standard interpretation of
the double manzzum/naplastum; 2) the explanation of the cleft as a forecast of rebellion on the basis of the set of associations KAK-shape KAK sign kakku
(weapon) bartum (rebellion); 3) the relation of predictions of darkness/obscurity
(< e) with the padnu; and 4) an example of the temporal interpretive theme.
More-over, in its wording and subject matter, the text follows standard conventions for the Mesopotamian divination tradition (brtu). Thus, Hazor 17 belongs
to the mainstream of the extispicy divination tradition of Mesopotamia.15
Hazor 17 shows similarity with the omen collection of the extispicy series (brtu)
attested from Middle Assyrian Assur and other Neo-Assyrian capitals. Further liver
models have been found at Ugarit and Ekalte.16
The other two genres that originated somewhat later during the Old Babylonian period, i.e., the first half of the second millennium BCE, consist of:
2) omen reports containing either fortunate or unfortunate omens for a particular inquiry and
3) omen compendia, among them the extispicy series (ikar brti) as the most
important one.
Other series were added either already during the Old Babylonian period or
later, among them the astrological series Enma Anu Enlil, the series umma izbu
(dedicated to malformed birth),17 umma lu (If a city [is set on high]),18 and the
physiognomic series (Alamdimm) 19 to mention only the most important ones.
During the first millennium ancient scholarship adduced commentaries of all
kinds, such as excerpt series, factual commentaries (mukallimtu), linguistic commentaries (tu), and explanatory series.20 Only during the first millennium, ana) . . .
b) In the afternoon, it will become dark, the enemy I will kill.
c) In the evening, it will become dark, the enemy I will kill.
d) Like the start (opening) of a rebellion.
e) A man will reach the realm of wisdom.
f) A god received the prayer of a man.
Horowitz, Oshima, and Winitzer, Hazor 17: Another Clay Liver Model, 142.
Jan-Waalke Meyer, Untersuchungen zu den Tonlebermodellen aus dem Alten Orient (AOAT
39; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchner Verlag; Kevelaer: Butzon & Bercker, 1987).
17
Erle Leichty, The Omen Series umma izbu (TCS 4; Locust Valley: J. J. Augustin, 1970).
18
Sally M. Freedman, If a City is Set on a Height: The Akkadian Omen Series umma lu ina
ml akin (2 vols.; Occasional Publications of the Samuel Noah Kramer Fund 17, 19; Philadelphia: Samuel Noah Kramer Fund, 1998-2006).
19
Barbara Bck, Die Babylonisch-assyrische Morphoskopie (AfOB 27; Wien: Selbstverlag des
Instituts fr Orientalistik der Universitt Wien, 2000).
20
Such as the excerpt series umma Sn ina tmartu, see Niek Veldhuis, The Theory of
Knowledge and the Practice of Celestial Divination, in Divination and Interpretation of Signs in
15
16
38
other extispicy series was created known as the tamtu oracles addressed to the sun
god ama and the storm god Adad.21 These tamtu oracles, while dealing primarily
with affairs of private individuals, also contain some historical omens referring to
Hammurapi and Samsu-ditana. Unrelated to divinatory practice they were of a
purely textual nature and are attested only in copies from first millennium BCE
Nimrud and Nineveh.
Since its appearance in writing, divination formed a major part of the scholarly and royal libraries and the temple libraries, with the divination tablets in Assurbanipals library making up more than a quarter of the holdings thus showing its
importance in the ancient world view.22 A recent and significant advance in Assyriological scholarship has been the distinguishing between omen reports as related
to the practice of divination and the definition of omen compendia, by contrast, as
purely textual rather than observation-based creations.23
For the purpose of my argument this distinction is crucial. The rulers of the
ancient Near East, as I will demonstrate, not only made extensive use of divinatory
practice for ad-hoc decision-making in daily affairs but also appropriated divination as a system of thought for their ideological self-representation. It is the latter
aspect that I will now investigate in more depth with particular attention to divination texts in addition to the royal inscriptions, which have been a subject of inquiry in that regard in my book on knowledge of rulership.24
For a better understanding of the royal interest in usurping divination for
ideological purposes, two aspects need to be addressed first: 1) the positioning of
kingship in the ancient worldview and 2) the meaning of the historical omens.
the Ancient World, 7791, 8187. For the commentary texts, see Frahm, Babylonian and Assyrian
Text Commentaries: Origins of Interpretation. For the explanatory texts, see Alasdair Livingstone,
Mystical and Mythological Explanatory Texts of Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars (Oxford: Clarendon, 1986; repr. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2007).
21
W. G. Lambert, The Babylonian Oracle Questions (MC 13; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns,
2007).
22
Ulla S. Koch, Sheep and Sky: Systems of Divinatory Interpretation, in The Oxford
Handbook of Cuneiform Culture, 44769.
23
Seth F. C. Richardson, gir3-gin-na and ulgis Library: Liver Omen Texts in the Third
Millennium (I), CDLJ 2006/3; online: http://cdli.ucla.edu/pubs/cdlj/2006/cdlj2006_003.html;
Seth F. C. Richardson, On Seeing and Believing: Liver Divination and the Era of Warring
States (II), in Divination and Interpretation of Signs in the Ancient World, 22566; Abraham
Winitzer, Writing and Mesopotamian Divination: The Case of Alternative Interpretation,
JCS 63 (2011): 7794.
24
Beate Pongratz-Leisten, Herrschaftswissen in Mesopotamien: Formen der Kommunikation
zwischen Gott und Knig im 2. und 1. Jahrtausend v. Chr. (SAAS 10; Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian
Text Corpus Project, 1999); see also recently Karen Radner, Royal Decision-Making: Kings,
Magnates, and Scholars, in The Oxford Handbook of Cuneiform Culture, 358-79.
39
The Position of Kingship in the Ancient Worldview and Religion

As stated at the beginning of this article, in Mesopotamia, gods and men were
equally subject to the cosmic order. Everything and everyone, human or divine,
had an assigned place and function.25 The gods were considered to control the
forces of nature and manifest themselves in natural phenomena, and thus contribute to the operation of the cosmic order. The institution of kingship was mandated
to uphold the social order through enforcing justice and correct human social behavior so that the cosmic order went undisturbed. Kingship was thus the hub between the social and the cosmic order, and the ideal king was charged with implementing the requirements of civil society as well as securing the cult of and communication with the gods. Natural phenomenacelestial, atmospheric and seismic
events such as eclipses, earthquakes, floods, and storms, as well as terrestrial ominous events happening in town and country26were regarded as forms of expression exploited by deities to manifest their intentionality.27 In that system of
thought, in particular contexts and under particular circumstances, the gods could
turn all thingsanimate or inanimateinto conduits for expressing decisions
made in relation to human life, which then had to be decoded by divinatory experts.28 Thus, in astrology and extispicy the constellations and the liver were considered as carriers of divine writing, conveying information regarding human life
and cosmic truth (kittu). Scholars references to the celestial phenomena as heavenly writing (iir am) or writing of the firmament (iir burm), and the categorization of the liver as the tablet of the gods (uppi a il), are indicative of this
perspective. Any important action intended by the king, whether of political, administrative, or cultic nature, had to be analyzed for its repercussions for the cosmic order, and, therefore, had to be submitted to divine judgment by means of the
diviners inquiry into the omens inscribed on the liver. The diviner while presenting the inquiry to ama used judicial terminology,29 asking the sun god ama to
judge the case (dna dinu) and put truth (kitta aknu) into the entrails of the
sheep.30
25
This notion is reflected best in the Sumerian composition Enki and the World Order. Jerrold S. Cooper is preparing a new edition.
26
A. Leo Oppenheim Divination and Celestial Observation in the Last Assyrian Empire,
Centaurus 14 (1969): 97135.
27
Anne Marie Kitz, Prophecy as Divination, CBQ 65 (2003): 2242.
28
On the cognitive process that discerns between the anatomical or pathological features, their cultural encoding as signs, and interpretation as oracles in extispicy for instance,
see Jean-Jacques Glassner, La fabrique des presages en Msopotamie: la smiologie des
devins, in La raison des signes: Prsages, rites, destin dans les socits de la Mditerrane ancienne
(ed. S. Georgoudi et al.; Religion in the Graeco-Roman World 174; Leiden: Brill, 2012), 2953.
29
Bottro, Symptmes, signes, critures, 13942.
30
See HSM 7494: 11-12 in Ivan Starr, The Rituals of the Diviner (BMes 12; Malibu: Undena
Publications, 1983), 30.
40
In view of the kings pivotal position between divination and legislation it

comes as no surprise that we might find historical omens referring to particular
kings interspersed between other omina in the omen compendia.
THE MEANING OF THE HISTORICAL OMENS

Historical omens, i.e., allusions to historical persons, are as old as the first recording of omen reports on liver models from Mari dating to the 19th century BCE.31
As soon as they were discovered, Assyriology began intensely debating the question of their value for historical reconstruction.32 In 1980, Jerrold Cooper settled
the question decisively, arguing that they had no value for reconstructing third
millennium history.33 In Assyriology the liver models from Mari were deemed of
didactic purpose in the context of the professional training of the diviners. The
fact that they include historical omens referring to the kings of Akkade and the Ur
III dynasty as well as to the legendary kings Gilgame and Etana, however, in my
view, links them with the textual production of omen compendia rather than the
reports and gives them a paradigmatic purpose. This is further supported by the
fact that among the historical omens there are several omens formulated in the
past tense rather than the durative, which points to the future:
If there is a well being groove [on the sheeps liver] that is like the squatting of a
young bull, it is the omen of Gilgame, who had no rival.
If the gall bladder is shaped like a lizard, it is the mark of Sargon.
If the heart is like a testicle, it is the omen of Rimush, whom his servants killed
with their cylinder seals.
If the fetus is like a lion, it is an omen of Naram-Sn, who subdued the world.
If the fetus is compact, it is an omen of Ibbi-Sn: disaster.34
Rutten, Trente-Deux modles de foies, RA 35 (1936): 3652 and pls. 1-18.

J. J. Finkelstein (Mesopotamian Historiography, PAPS 107 [1963]: 461-472, 463) and A.
Kirk Grayson, (Divination and the Babylonian Chronicles: A Study of the Rle Which Divination Plays in Ancient Mesopotamian Chronography, in La divination en Msopotamie ancienne
et dans les regions voisines [CRRAI 14; Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1960], 6976)
argued for a historical value of these entries. Voices against this approach include Hans G.
Gterbock, Die historische Tradition und ihre literarische Gestaltung bei Babyloniern und
Hethitern bis 1200, ZA 42 (1934): 47-91 and Erica Reiner, New Light on Some Historical
Omens, in Anatolian Studies Presented to H. G. Gterbock (ed. B. Kurt et al.; PIHANS 35; Istanbul:
Nederlands Historisch-Archaeologisch Instituut in het Nabije Oosten, 1974), 25761.
33
Jerrold S. Cooper, Apodotic Death and the Historicity of Historical Omens, in Death
in Mesopotamia: Papers Read at the XXVIe Rencontre assyriologique internationale (ed. B. Alster;
Mesopotamia 8; Copenhagen: Akademisk Forlag, 1980), 99105.
34
Quoted after Piotr Michalowski, Commemoration, Writing, and Genre in Ancient
Mesopotamia, in The Limits of Historiography: Genre and Narrative in Ancient Historical Texts (ed.
31
32
41
These so-called historical omens, attested for the first time in the liver models
from Mari and then carried on into the first omen series created during the Old
Babylonian period, were transmitted into the first millennium omen compendia.
They include references to Sargon and Naram-Sn, both kings of Akkad, and IbbiSn, king of Ur, and legendary kings such as Gilgame and Etana as well as Guur,
first king of Ki, and Kubaba, founder of the third dynasty of Ki.35 The number of
the historical omens is minimal compared to the thousands of omens collected in
the various omen series. More than fifty percent of the omen entries contained
apodoses that were primarily concerned with political and military matters, i.e.,
the kings involvement with court intrigues, domestic traitors, usurpers, border
garrisons, the success of the army in the field, and the loyalty of his populace, officials, vassal kings, and members of the royal family.36 These omen entries referring
to royal action in their entirety provide a rich repertoire of possible constellations
and interactions in which a king might find himself involved, and thus can be read
as paradigmatic in nature.37 Numerous apodoses of this kind, with regard to the
verbal forms, instead of using the third person to refer to the king, are cast in the
first or second person thus invoking the notion of divinatory practice. Yet, rather
than interpreting these omen entries as being copied from former oracle reports I
would like to argue that the references to kingship in the liver models and in the
omen compendia served a purpose entirely different from observational practice,
namely, to inscribe royal performance in the authoritative tradition of the mythical past.
The fact that the scholars derived their material for the apodoses not only
from historical kings but also from literary sources such as the Gilgame Epic or the
Etana Myth reiterates the paradigmatic nature of these historical omens.38 What is
more, these historical omens were always interspersed among other apodoses, and
until the first millennium they never formed a group of their own. The sparse evidence of the historical omens led Piotr Michalowski to consider them as vignettes
of the past, as anecdotes lost in a vast ominous landscape.39 He writes:
C. Kraus; Mnemosyne, bibliotheca classica Batava. Supplementum 191; Leiden / Boston: Brill,
1999), 6990, 76.
35
I am grateful to Jean-Jacques Glassner for the discussion of these figures in the omen
tradition in his paper The Diviner as Historian delivered at our workshop Ancient and Modern Perspectives on Historiography in the Ancient Near East, held at ISAW, April 12th, 2013.
36
Richardson, On Seeing and Believing, 247.
37
Similarly Mogens Trolle Larsen (The Mesopotamian Lukewarm Mind: Reflections on
Science, Divination and Literacy, in Language, History, and Literature: Philological and Historical
Studies Presented to Erica Reiner [AOS 67; ed. F. Rochberg-Halton; New Haven: The American
Oriental Society, 1987], 203-25, 212-13), who described them as prescribing legitimate behavior in present and future circumstances.
38
Ivan Starr, The Place of Historical Omens in the System of Apodoses, BiOr 43 (1986):
62842, 631.
39
Michalowski, Commemoration, Writing, and Genre, 76.
42

Of the thousands of such omens known to us today, slightly over 60 are historical,
and these acquire a special status only when they are decontextualized and seriated into modern collections of historiographic data. Omens were an extremely important part of the culture, but they were hardly the privileged repositories of historical knowledge.40
Nonetheless Michalowski admits to the importance of Finkelsteins essay41 in that

it was the first major attempt to analyze historiography from the native point of
view, rather than as a reflex of modern intuitive concepts. Finkelstein was
searching for a sense of the past; he was not interested in whether something actually happened, in the colloquial sense, but rather in the way in which earlier
events, real or imaginary, were portrayed. In this way he almost succeeded in separating himself from earlier studies on history writing, which always seemed to
return to the point of origin, searching for the original kernel of truth that simply
must lie hidden behind the textual distortions of history.42
Although in the end Finkelstein was also searching for a genre that had a privileged connection with historical reality, his qualification of the omen textsand
here we should include all the omens referring to royal actionas lying at the root
of Mesopotamian historiography has been so far unique and is invaluable for our
modern understanding of how the ancients viewed their past.
The Interface between the Historical Omens and Pseudo-Chronicles

The intertextual relationship between the omen compendia containing historical omens and two chronicles, the Chronicle of Early Kings, which covers kings from
Sargon of Akkad (c. 2334-2279 BCE) until the reign of Agum III (c. 1450 BCE), and the
Weidner Chronicle, which starts with kings from as early as the Early Dynastic period
through the reign of ulgi (2094-2047 BCE),43 confirms that the historical omens like
any other omens concerned with the kings action were paradigmatic in nature.
Both chronicles were composed during the first millennium BCE, and the latter is
primarily concerned with the kings incorrect behavior towards Marduks temple
in Babylon. Both chronicles can be considered pseudo-chronicles as they do not
provide any valuable information regarding the history of events. Rather, their
concern is with potential violations of the cult committed by the kings, which on
occasion touch upon the bizarre, as do various historical omens as well.44
The exemplary value attached to the early kings of Akkade in the omen compendia and the chronicles further applies to the historical legends, all three of
Michalowski, Commemoration, Writing, and Genre, 76.
See note 32 above.
42
Michalowski, Commemoration, Writing, and Genre, 7677, n. 29.
43
A. Kirk Grayson, Assyrian and Babylonian Chronicles (TCS 5; Locust Valley: J. J. Augustin,
1975), 47.
44
Reiner, New Light on Some Historical Omens.
40
41
43
them coalescing around these paradigmatic royal figures who had constructed the
first empire45 in history and, therefore had gained universal significance in the
cultural memory. Yet it is important to state that in the omen series Sargon and
Naram-Sn mostly appear as fortunate rulers, while legendary tradition created a
divide between the two, turning Sargon into the paradigmatic fortunate ruler
while the tradition regarding Naram-Sn was mixed.46 Overall, the intertextuality
between omen compendia, pseudo-chronicles, and literature supports the idea of
an entirely text-basedrather than observation-basedcomposition process with
regard to the omen compendia.
With the omen compendia, including their numerous anonymous references
to kings and princes and the few interspersed historical omens, as well as the
pseudo-chronicles and historical legends the ancient scholars had created a corpus
of cultural authoritative texts that inscribed the royal office and royal performance in all its facets in the cosmic order as foreseen by the gods. The world view
and the paradigmatic nature of the liver models together with the omen compendia as cultural metaphors for royal performance explain why, under particular
historical circumstances, kings should express an interest in appropriating either
the practice or the learned textual production of divination for their ideological
self-representation. The latter case is exemplified by King Assurbanipal, who not
only assembled a vast corpus of omen compendia in his library but also showed a
particular interest in the historical omens revolving around the kings of Akkad.
ASSURBANIPALS USURPATION OF THE OMEN COMPENDIA

One of the many tablets from Assurbanipals library at Nineveh contains a
compilation of exclusively historical omens concerned with the kings Sargon
and Naram-Sn of Akkad. I quote from the first lines of this text:
1. If the gall-bladder completely surrounds the liver, it is the omen of Sargon
who by this omen
2. marched on the land of Elam, defeated the Elamites,
3. imposed on them . . . (and) cut off their food supplies.?
4. If the gall-bladder completely surrounds the liver and [its? to]p? falls upon it;
the gall bladder hangs down
5. it is the omen of Sargon, who marched on the land of Amurru,
6. defeated the land of Amurru, and conquered the entire world.
7. If the right side of the liver is four times as thick as its left side?, and the caudate lobe lies on top of it,
8. it is the omen of Sargon who by this omen . . . dominion over Babylon.
9. He removed soil from the . . . gate and . . . named it Babylon.
See Mario Liverani (ed.), Akkad: The First World Empire: Structure, Ideology, Traditions
(HANES 5; Padova: Sargon, 1993).
46
Joan Goodnick Westenholz, Legends of the Kings of Akkade: The Texts (MC 7; Winona
Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1997).
45
44

10. [In front of?] Akkad he built (another) city, and named it [Babylon].
11. [. . .] he settled [therein?].47
Assurbanipal is not only famous for presenting himself as an intellectual conversant in divination in his colophons.48 This tablet with an assemblage of historical
omens concerned with the kings Sargon and Naram-Sn of Akkad demonstrates the
cultural significance Assurbanipal associated with these kings who had entered the
historiographic tradition as epitomes of imperial politics from the Old Babylonian
period onward and whose legends circulated at the courts of the Sargonid kings. In
addition to this omen collection two other texts from Assurbanipals reign reveal
the kings interest in the historical kings mentioned in the omen compendia: one is
a letter which lists historical omens concerned with Assurbanipal and ama-umukn (Rm 2, 455) to be discussed below, and the other is an omen text (Rm 2, 134),
written in Neo-Babylonian script, which refers to the kings Assurbanipal, Hammurapi and Itti-Marduk-balu and also dates to the reign of Assurbanipal.49
The letter (Rm 2, 455) written to the king in the aftermath of his war against
Tammartu II of Elam was sent by a diviner who asks the king in which form he
should enter the apodosis referring to Assurbanipals victory over the Elamite king.
It represents a unique testimony to the kings aspiration of not only being accepted in the ranks of scholarship but to obtain his place as paradigmatic king in ancient historiography as well. Unfortunately, the obverse is very badly preserved,
and so I will confine myself to rendering a translation of the preserved section on
the reverse:
Rev.
1. [Omen for Assurbani]pal, mighty king, reverent prince, of whom (it is said) Itar
(walks) at the side of his a[rmy]
2. cut off [the head of Teumman, king of Ela]m in the midst of battle and the son of
Bl-iqsha
3. . . . -tuk of the Elamite they hung around his neck, and Assurbanipal
4. [went to Nineve]h, his royal residence. They were exulting joyfully and performed music,
5. the messenger? of Ummanigash, king of Elam, he killed in front of Assurbanipal,
king of the universe,
6. and he sat on his throne. Assurbanipal, king of the universe, at the command of
7. [. . .] Tammartu, king of Elam, together with his magnates
8. rolled before him [in?] Nineveh, his royal residence.
9. [whom Assur and] Itar love and lead with their full content, and Tammartu
47
K.2130:111, see Starr, The Place of Historical Omens, 635.

Hermann Hunger, Babylonische und assyrische Kolophone (AOAT 2; Kevelaer: Butzon &
Bercker; Neukirchen/Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag des Erziehungsvereins, 1968), nos. 100 and
101.
49
Starr, The Place of Historical Omens, 630.
48
45
10. who had plotted for help of ama-um-ukn, he himself, the diviner and his
magnates
11. went and kissed his feet, Tammartu and the diviner accused each other in
front of him.
12. [If . . . the right and left side of the station are . . . it is the omen of Assurbanipal,
king of the universe, (of whom it is said) that ama and Itar walk at the side
of his army and
13. killed (his enemies) in the midst of battle and effected their defeat.
14. [If . . .] in the lift of the head of the right lung there is a sign/omen (predicting)
the annihilation of the army, it is an omen of ama-um-ukn,
15. [the treacherous brother, who] fought against the army of Assurbanipal, the
beloved of the great gods, (but) was defeated.
16. . . . they seized in the midst of battle and . . . in front of Assurbanipal, king of
the universe.
17. [omen of?] ama-um-ukn, unfavorable.
18. [I have sent] to the king my lord, [the omens from the br]tu series, which I
have previously excerpted from the series.
19. The king my lord may see the earlier ones, these are the omens of the king, my
lord.
20. [Whatever is] acceptable to the king, my lord, we will enter into the series . . .
of Tammartu
21. [who] plots for help of ama-um-ukn.
Edge
22. . . . we have written for the omens of Tammartu.
23. May . . . of your gods . . . 50
With his demand to be entered into the omen series, king Assurbanipal revived the tradition of historical omens, which is last known to have been applied
to King Itti-Marduk-balu (1139-1132 BCE), a king of the Second Dynasty of Isin, in
a text that likewise dates to Assurbanipals reign, i.e., the seventh century BCE.51
The crucial aspect of Assurbanipals demand reflected in the letter of the diviner is
that he knew about the tradition of historical omens, i.e., entering kings individual names into the apodoses, and that he deemed it important to be included in the
line of exemplary kings known as imperial figures in the omen compendia including Sargon and Naram-Sn of Akkad as well as Gilgame and others. The letter of
the diviner is unique in various ways: it is the latest example of an historical omen
to be entered into the omen series of extispicy (ikar brti); it confirms that although there existed a notion of a standardized corpus of the established extispicy
50
Theo Bauer, Das Inschriftenwerk Assurbanipals (AB nf 1-2; 2 vols.; Leizpig: Hinrichs,
1933), 8587.
51
An extispicy text written in Neo-Babylonian script (Rm 2, 134) mentions the names of
Assurbanipal, Hammurapi, and Itti-Maduk-balu, see Ivan Starr, Historical Omens Concerning Aurbanipals War Against Elam, AfO 32 (1985): 6067.
46
series together with various commentaries,52 the compilation process remained

dynamic and subject to change; it also provides direct insight into the significance
Assurbanipal in particular assigned to the omen series, and conveys intriguing
information about his aspirations to rank among the paradigmatic kings of Mesopotamian history.
This usurpation of the omen compendia differed fundamentally in its function
from the practice of taking omens, as it did not serve the immediate goal of promulgating the message that the individual kings reign or intended actions had
found divine approval, and that the king, consequently, had met the expectations
linked with the ideal type of kingship. Rather, by inscribing himself into the authoritative and paradigmatic corpus of the omen compendia, Assurbanipal had
stepped outside the system of communication with the gods as controlled by the
diviners and turned himself into the epitome of the ideal king acting in compliance
with the cosmic order (kittu).
Such development was fostered by the scholars of Nineveh who had also undertaken some editing of the brtu series with regard to creating pairs of omens
so that right / left in the protases correspond to the king / the enemy in the
apodoses,53 thus combining their competent copying from Babylonian predecessors with the creation of a new composition that put the king at center stage. What
is more, the version of the brtu series that dates to the reign of Assurbanipal
contains two omens which state that 1) Sargon defeated Elam and 2) Sargon enlarged his palace,54 considered in reality to be deeds of Assurbanipal rather than
Sargon II and reveals commonalities with the tablets 1416 of the series interpretation (Multbiltu), which again contains omens referring to Assurbanipal.55
All this evidence and the hitherto unattested orientation tablet assigning to
each subsection of the liver and the lung the designation right and left which
bears Assurbanipals colophon claiming that he wrote the tablet in the assembly of
the scholars,56 and the fact that commentaries and excerpts from commentaries
might contain illustrations of the kakku and padnu features of the liver or parts of
52
Francesca Rochberg, Continuity and Change in Omen Literature, in Munuscula Mesopotamica: Festschrift fr Johannes Renger (ed. B. Bck et al.; AOAT 267; Mnster: Ugarit-Verlag,
1999), 41527; Frahm, Babylonian and Assyrian Text Commentaries; Veldhuis, The Theory of
Knowledge and the Practice of Celestial Divination.
53
Ulla Jeyes, Assurbanipals brtu, in Assyrien im Wandel der Zeiten: XXXIXe Rencontre
Assyriologique Internationale Heidelberg 6.-10. Juli 1992 (ed. H. Waetzoldt and H. Hauptmann;
Heidelberger Studien zum Alten Orient 6; Heidelberg: Heidelberger Orientverlag, 1997), 61
65, 63.
54
Jeyes, Assurbanipals brtu, 63, who notes [o]men 1 of K.2130 (obv. 13) refers to
the defeat of Elam and omen 8 (obv. 2729) refers to the enlargement of the palace.
55
Jeyes, Assurbanipals brtu, 64 with reference to Jean Nougayrol, Note sur Bartu,
Chapitre X Tablette 15 Iraq 31 (1969): 5963, 59.
56
Jean Nougayrol, Le foie dorientation BM 50494, RA 62 (1968): 3150, 3436; for the
most complete one see CT 31 15. For the colophon see Hunger, Babylonische und assyrische
Kolophone, no. 318 (Asb. type b).
47
the lungobviously meant to facilitate the kings reading57are further tokens of

Assurbanipals direct involvement in the re-creation of the scholarly divinatory
texts belonging to the stream of tradition.
CONCLUSIONS
My discussion of the kings appropriation of the scholarly take on divination
as expressed in the omen compendia has been dominated by the fact that divination and mythcombat myth in particularas the two strategies of ancient interpretation appear side by side in the first millennium text of the Catalogue of Texts
and Authors as the creations of the god Ea. The god Enki/Ea, as is well-known from
a variety of myths, played a crucial role in guaranteeing the communication between the divine and human worlds and in supporting the divine hero and warrior
(Ninurta, Marduk) in situations of crisis with his magic knowledge. In my view the
association of divinatory and magic knowledge as well as combat myth forms part
of a larger ancient framework of thought on the mechanisms that fueled the office
of kingship. It also reveals the responsibilities of the individual king, and, simultaneously, determines the range and constraints of interpretation modern scholarship can bring to Assurbanipals appropriation of the omen compendia, as much
more than self-aggrandizing or propaganda was at stake. Assurbanipal was not the
first Sargonid king to refer to divination as the overall scheme framing his royal
actions. When planning the restoration of Marduks temple in Babylon and the
refurbishing of the statues of the Babylonian gods whom Sennacherib had taken to
Assyria after his destruction of Babylon, King Esarhaddon evoked the regular
course of the stars as the system of reference to assure the world of his rightful
action:
In order to triumph (and) to show overpowering strength, he (the god Marduk)
revealed to me good omen(s) concerning the (re)-entering of Esagil. The stars of
heaven stood in their positions and took the correct path (harrn kitti) (and) left
the incorrect path (harrn l kitti). Every month, the gods Sn and ama together,
at their appearance, answered me with a firm yes concerning the renewing of
the gods, the completion of the shrines of the cult centers, the lasting stability of
my reign, (and) the securing of the throne of my priestly office. (RINAP 4 48: 57b61a)
With this statement the Assyrian king anchors his actions in the cosmic regularity
of the heavens (harrn kitti). It not only reveals once more Esarhaddons deep involvement with the practices of astrology and astronomy as already known from
57
Jeyes, Assurbanipals brtu, 63; for illustrated padnu commentaries see CT 20 23,
25, 26, 28, 29, CT 20 27-28 (K.4069) + CT 20 21 (81-2-4, 397); Ki 1904-10-9, 100. Illustrated ha
commentaries are: CT 31 38-40; K.3967*, 81-2-4, 443*.
48
his correspondence with the astrologers but equally reflects a world view that
considered kingship as an integral constituent of the cosmic order.
Royal appropriation of omen practice to make their individual reign successful, on the one hand, and royal appropriation of the textual stream of tradition as
represented in the omen compendia to turn themselves into paradigmatic models
of kingship, on the other, thus stand out as cultural key strategies used by these
two kings to reflect a notion of cosmic order in which divine intentionality and
human (i.e., royal) agency were inextricably intertwined.
3
Divination as Warfare:
The Use of Divination across Borders*
Jonathan Stkl
INTRODUCTION
Astrology, hepatoscopy and prophecy were commonly used by ancient Near
Eastern rulers in order to acquire access to information from the divine spheres so
that they could improve their own decisions.1 Divination is, thus, an enterprise
that saw most of its activity within the borders of a state. Indeed, few diviners and
few practitioners of ecstatic religion seem to be overly concerned with foreign
events unless they directly impact on local events, whether the diviners are central or marginal.2 Simplifying I. M. Lewis distinction between central and margin-
*
The research for this paper was carried out while I was a post-doctoral researcher at
the ERC project Babylon at Leiden University, under the aegis of Dr. Caroline Waerzeggers. I
would like to thank Dr. Waerzeggers for her support while writing this paper. I would also
like to thank Alan Lenzi and the anonymous reviewer for their comments to an earlier draft.
1
Beate Pongratz-Leisten, Herrschaftswissen in Mesopotamien: Formen der Kommunikation
zwischen Gott und Knig im 2. und 1. Jahrtausend v. Chr (SAAS 10; Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian
Text Corpus Project, 1999) .
2
For the terminology of central and marginal diviners see I. M. Lewis, Ecstatic Religion:
An Anthropological Study of Spirit Possession and Shamanism (Pelican Anthropology Library;
Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1971 [more easily available in the second {Routledge, 1989} and
third {Routledge, 2003} editions]). Where Lewis uses the term prophet I prefer diviner,
see the discussion in Jonathan Stkl, Prophecy in the Ancient Near East: A Philological and Sociological Comparison (CHANE 56; Leiden: Brill, 2012), 714; Martti Nissinen, Prophecy and Omen
Divination: Two Sides of the Same Coin, in Divination and Interpretation of Signs in the Ancient
World (ed. Amar Annus; OIS 6; Chicago: Chicago University Press, 2010), 34151.
49
50
al diviners, one might say that central diviners speak in favor of the political system and marginal prophets challenge that system.
Lewis may, however have been too quick in positing this difference, inasmuch
as so-called marginal diviners challenge the political system of the statethey
do not tend to challenge the political power of the group to which they belong. In
other words, marginal diviners can be understood as supporting an alternative
centrality, and in terms of that alternative centrality, they operate like central
diviners. In effect, their predictions and announcements against the state can be
understood as attacking not so much the central governing group of their state,
but the outside group which they want to challenge and overcome.
While this may be the case in general, this paper will be looking at what may
be construed as the opposite case: central (i.e. state) diviners of one country who
address the ruler of another. As we shall see, their messages usually are worded in
the same way that the deity would address the king or elite of the country in which
their main sanctuary was located. This implies that they regarded their authority
as including the other kings sphere of influence: elements of foreign policy can
thereby be understood to be turned into a form of domestic policy of the deity
speakingand with it, the domestic policy of the king in whose realm housed the
deitys main sanctuary.3 Thus, we will see that Addu of Kallassu, a form of Adad
whose main sanctuary was in the neighboring state of Yamad, centered on Aleppo, makes demands of Zimri-Lim, king of Mari.4 A case in point is the famous letter
FM 7 39, in which Addu of Kallassu addresses Zimri-Lim as if the latter were answerable to him in the same way as King ammurapi of Yamad. Another example
of this kind of behavior can occasionally be found in war (see, e.g., the Rab-qs
[henceforth, Rabshakeh] speech to the Jerusalemites), where the local chief deity is
claimed to support the aggressor against the local king. Thereby, the aggressor
becomes the protector of the local deity, and the extension of their willthe role
ancient Near Eastern kings would normally claim to fulfill with regard to the deities in their lands. By extension, this claim can therefore be regarded as the claim
by the invading forces that they are the legitimate rulers of the region.
In the following, I will give examples for these two kinds of inter/intra-national divination from Mari and from the Hebrew Bible. I am not aware
of such claims from within the Neo-Assyrian corpus, even if one of the cases preserved in the Hebrew Bible occurs in the part of 2 Kings that narrates the events of
the interactions between Judah and the Neo-Assyrian empire. The Hebrew Bible
attributes Davidic qualities to a number of non-Judean rulers and it can safely be
3
For some explorations of such ideas see Jonathan Stkl, (Intuitive) Divination, (Ethical) Demands and Diplomacy in the Ancient Near East, in Mediating Between Heaven and Earth:
Communication with the Divine in the Ancient Near East (ed. C. L. Crouch, Jonathan Stkl, and
Anna Elise Zernecke; LHBOTS 566; London: T & T Clark, 2012), 8292.
4
It is customary to use Addu for the Syrian form and Adad as the Akkadian form of
the name of the storm god; see, e.g., Daniel Schwemer, The Storm-Gods of the Ancient Near
East: Summary, Synthesis, Recent Studies, JANER 7 (2007): 121168 and JANER 8 (2008): 144.
JONATHAN STKL
51
assumed that this way of understanding history theologically was influenced by a

more common understanding of the way in which inter-/intra-national divination was seen to work. Indeed, this structure is the basis for the claim to universal
oversight of history and the world by any deity, and presents therefore one of the
pre-conditions to the development of monotheism.
The Roman ritual evocatio which is linked to siege warfare presents us with a
good structural parallel of how religion is used not only to influence ones own
troops but also how it can be used as a tool in warfareessentially claiming that
the local deity is in support of the Romans action and that, therefore, the locals
should not oppose the Romans.5 The parallel of the ritual only occurred to me
after the initial idea regarding the Near Eastern material, but as it will be new to
most of the readers of these lines I will start by discussing it to give the basic
structural outline. The Mesopotamian and biblical exampleswhich go beyond the
Roman example as they also relate to peace-time diplomacywill be discussed
afterwards. The aim is to uncover one of the contributing factors of the development of the idea of deities claiming universal rulership and authority.
THE ROMAN RITE OF THE EVOCATIO

While the historicity of the Roman rite evocatio (calling out, evocation) is
not entirely ensured, the idea, the concept of it is well-established in ancient literature so that we can use it as a parallel case for what I am about to suggest also for
the ancient Near Eastern data. In the evocatio rite itself, the Romans would
whether only in literature or also in realityperform a ritual in which the local
deity was called out of the attacked city and promised a new temple cult in Rome,
or in the later forms, at least a new cult in their own city.6 In either case they were
5
Further structural parallels could be found in the evocation ritual by the Hittites after
they had devoted a city to the storm-god, i.e., to total destruction, which in Roman terms
would be a separate ritual, the devotio. The Hittite ritual, CTH 423, has most recently been
edited by Francesco Fuscagni, Rituale di evocatione per gli dei di un villaggio nemico (CTH
423), [accessed 17 July 2013]. Available online at: http://www.hethport.uni-wuerzburg.de/
txhet_besrit/intro.php?xst=CTH%20423&prgr=&lg=IT&ed=F.%20Fuscagni; Daniel Schwemer,
Fremde Gtter in Hatti: Die hethitische Religion im Spannungsfeld von Synkretismus und
Abgrenzung, in attua-Boazky: Das Hethiterreich im Spannungsfeld des alten Orient. 6. Internationales Colloquium der Deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft 22.24. Mrz 2006, Wrzburg (ed. G. Wilhelm;
CDOG 6; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2008), 13758. Most ancient Near Eastern examples cited
here are similar but vitally different in that they take place after the city has been conquered, and therefore the gods have little choice before the battle is decided. Rather, the
outcome of the battle is seen as proof of their decision. In addition, some of the Hittite evocation rituals serve the purpose to call out the deity from wherever they might be at the
time so that it can inhabit the new cult-image prepared for them; thus, the rituals may share
a name, but their purpose is markedly different.
6
For the evocatio, see Gabriella Gustafsson, Evocatio Deorum: Historical and Mythical Interpretations of Ritualised Conquests in the Expansion of Ancient Rome (Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis
52
called upon to support the Roman case, and thereby the Romans were undermining the religious basis of the citys resistance against them. A number of historians
of ancient Rome claim that the Romans themselves did not really believe in their
own propaganda, and that it is done purely in order to undermine the morale of
the local population. It seems to me that this does not take sufficiently into account the ambiguity with which the Romans viewed relation between religion and
politics, as can been seen in their interactions with ominous signs. If the Romans
had been as cynical about the institution of augury in general as is sometimes argued, it is very unlikely that they would have maintained the office of augur, and,
indeed, indicted augurs who did not carry out their duties correctly.7
The Roman ritual known as evocatio invited the local deity to abandon their
local temple and the city and to come to Rome to join the Roman empire. In effect,
the ritual turned the local deity into a Roman deity, and resistance to the Roman
legions was then understood by the Romans not only as rebellion against Roman
military might but also as a religious transgression against a Roman deity. The rite
was performed by priests who lured the patron deity to Rome by promising
them a greater cult there than the one they currently enjoyed in their city (Pliny,
Nat. hist. 28.18-19). The earliest attestation of the rite is usually taken to be the
siege of the Etruscan city of Veii in 396 BCE, where the Roman commander invited
Junoor more precisely Unithe patron deity of Veii, to join the Romans in order
to later take up her new home in Rome itself (Livy, Ab urbe condita 5.21-23).8 After
the ritual inviting the deity out of their new home, the Romans would determine
whether the deity had accepted their invitation through the use of hepatoscopy.
According to Gabriella Gustafsson, the purpose of the ritual was not as such to invite the deity to Rome, but rather, to sever the links between a city and its patron
deity.9 While I would argue that it is indeed likely that the severing of the link
between a city and its patron deity was a key aspect, it also seems unlikely that the
Historia Religionum 16; Uppsala: Uppsala University Press, 2000); V. Basanoff, Evocatio: tude
dun rituel militaire Romain (Bibliothque de lcole des Hautes tudes; Sciences religieuses 61;
Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1947); H. S. Versnel, evocatio, DNP 4: 329 ET BNP 5:
25152; Mary Beard, John North, and Simon Price, Religions of Rome (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1998), 1:13234; John S. Kloppenborg, Evocatio Deorum and the Date of
Mark, JBL 124 (2005): 41950.
7
One modern historian who regards the attitude of the Roman elite about their religion as cynical is John North (Roman Religion [Greece and Rome: New Surveys in the Classics
30; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000], 76-77), but see Beard, North, and Price, Religions of
Rome, 1: 99108. It is possible that in the first century CE religious views became more cynical
(Beard, North, and Price, Religions of Rome, 1: 11719).
8
See Friedhelm Prayon, Uni, DNP, 12/1: 1003 ET BNP 15: 112. The fact that Uni was
identified with Iuno and that both Uni and Iuno were identified with Astarte may be the
reason that initially Astarte of Carthage was not called out (evocata) but placated (exorata),
thus Beard, North, and Price, Religions of Rome, 1: 8283. Only in the third Punic war did the
Romans evoke the goddess of Carthage.
9
Gustafsson, Evocatio Deorum, 80.
JONATHAN STKL
53
Romans would have understood the fact that the deity had become Roman as insignificant. Indeed, it seems as if Gustafsson is constructing false opposites here
when distinguishing between the two interpretations, which are really like two
sides of the same coin.
Macrobius discusses the evocatio in his Saturnalia:
They all departed, abandoning their shrines and altars
The gods who had made this realm stand fast . . .10
This statement concerns both the Romans most ancient custom and their most
secret rites. For it is commonly understood that all cities are protected by some
god, and that it was secret custom of the Romans (one unknown to many) that
they were laying siege to an enemy city and were confident it could be taken, they
used a specific spell [= carmen] to call out the gods that protected it, because they
either believed the city could otherwise not be taken oreven if it could be takenthought it against divine law to hold gods captive. That is why the Romans
themselves wanted both the god responsible for protecting Rome and the Latin
name of the city itself to remain unknown. Yet the gods name was included in
some of the ancients booksthough they disagree among themselvesand for
that reason the range of opinions on the matter is familiar to those who delve into
ancient beliefs and practices. For some believed the god was Jupiter, others Lua,
some Angerona, who calls for silence by putting her finger to her lips, still otherswhom Im more inclined to trustsaid that she is Ops Consivia. But even the
most learned men have not learned the name of the city itself, since the Romans
were wary of suffering themselves what they knew they had often inflicted on
enemy cities, should the name of their protector-god become known and allow
their enemy to summon it forth.
We should see to it, however, that the mistake some have fallen into not
confuse us tooI mean the belief that a single spell both summons the gods from a
city and devotes the city to destruction. For I have found both spells in Book 5 of
Serenus Sammonicus Secret History, and he says that he found them in the very
ancient book of a certain Furius.11 The following is the spell used to call the gods
forth when a city is surrounded and under siege:
I call upon the one in whose protection are the people and community of Carthage, whether it be a god or a goddess, and upon you above all, who have undertaken to protect this city and people, and ask you all for your favor: may you
all desert the people and community of Carthage, leave their sacred places, tem10
Macrobius quotes these words from Virgils Aeneid (2.351-52). Further on
(Sat. V.22.7), however, Macrobius writes that Virgil derived the concept of the deities of a
conquered city abandoning it from Euripides play Trojan Women (2527), where similar
words are attributed to Poseidon (Macrobius, in fact, says that Apollo speaks them but that is
likely to be a slight slip).
11
According to Robert A. Kaster, Macrobius: Saturnalia (Loeb Classical Library 51012; 3
vols; Cambridge/London: Harvard University Press, 201112), II: 67, the text is IAH 1:2930 =
fr. 1 IAR6, and the Furius in question is L. Furius Philus, who was a friend of Scipio, the Roman
general who conquered Carthage in 146 BCE.
54

ples, and city, and depart from them, and upon this people and community heap
fear, dread, forgetfulness, and come to Rome, to me and my people, with kindly
spirit, and may our sacred places, temples, city be more acceptable and approved in your sight, and may you be well disposed to me and the Roman people
and my army. If you all should do these things so that we know and understand
them, I vow that I will make temples and games for you.
The same words should be used in offering a sacrificial victim and inspecting the
meaning of entrails, so that they give a guarantee of the future. On the other
hand, once the divinities have been called forth, cities and armies are devoted to
destruction with the following words, which only dictators and generals are able
to use for the purpose. (Sat. III.9.7-8)12
It follows that by either inviting the foreign deity to Rome or by at least persuading the deity to give up their concern for their city, the Romans were in effect
claiming that the deity was either one of their many patron deities, which means
that the conflict they were engaged in was really a domestic conflict, as the city of
a patron-deity that was Roman surely was conceived to belong to the Roman Imperium. Or at the very least, the deity was no longer linked to the attacked city, so
that its inhabitants could no longer consider themselves protected by their patron
deitya powerful incentive to stop fighting the Romans.13
DIVINING ACROSS BORDERS IN MARI

There are two main examples for inter-/intra-national divination in the
Mari texts. In the first, Addu of Kallassu demands that Zimri-Lim provide him with
a piece of real estate almost as a reward for divine support during Zimri-Lims
campaign to regain his ancestral throne. The other is the claim by Yarim-Lim that
the gods had told him that he may not hand over some local kings who were
seeking asylum in Yamad. The second is not, strictly speaking, addressed to Zimri-Lim of Mari, but to Yarim-Lim of Yamad, and therefore is not really an example
of international divination. But it is included here because the deity addresses issues between the two kings that hover between the international and intra-national. We begin our discussion with this latter example.
The Asylum Affair

We have a significant amount of diplomatic correspondence from Mari.14
Shortly after a conflict with their overlord, King Zimri-Lim of Mari, some of his
The translation is from Kaster, Macrobius: Saturnalia vol. II: 6569.
The fact that the evocatio was often followed by a devotio in which the city was razed
and its inhabitants sold as slaves does not, in and of itself, change the basic image drawn
above.
12
13
JONATHAN STKL
55
vassal-kings fled into the neighboring kingdom of Yamad. Yamad had been a
large kingdom for a while with considerable control of the region around Aleppo,
including the upper Euphrates and the lucrative trade routes to the Phoenician
coast.15
We do not know the exact background to the letters in question, but in a letter
to Yarim-Lim Zimri-Lim accuses Dadi-adun, one of his vassal-kings, of having
called him brother rather than father, as would have been appropriate (FM 7
1).16 What might seem insignificant to the casual modern reader is in fact an expression of insubordination, as brother in the diplomatic nomenclature of the
ancient Near East referred to someone of equal status. A vassal would be addressed
as son, and an overlord as father. In other words, the vassal king is not accused
of a minor offense but of failing to recognize Zimri-Lims overlordship, which is
tantamount to insurrection. This vassal-king seems to have fled to Yamad in an
attempt to avoid Zimri-Lims revenge. Zimri-Lim writes to Yarim-Lim, addressing
him as my father (abya) and requests that Dadi-adun17 be handed over to him.
In his response to Zimri-Lim, Yarim-Lim acknowledges the seriousness of the
offense, interrogates Dadi-adun, and orders him to write letters to Zimri-Lim,
addressed as to my father and lord (ana abya u blya). He even makes him and
other vassal-kings swear an oath of allegiance to Zimri-Lim in the temple of Addu
at Aleppo.
In a different letter, however, we get some further details. FM 7 8 contains the
report by another of Zimri-Lims courtiers, Dari-libur, to his king. He writes that
at first Yarim-Lim said that he will not extradite the vassal-kings who are looking
for refuge in his kingdom.18 Indeed, when Zimri-Lim and Dari-libur remain insistent, Yarim-Lim says:
On the diplomatic correspondence in the Old Babylonian period see, e.g., Jack M.
Sasson, On Reading the Diplomatic Letters in the Mari Archives, in Amurru 2: Mari, bla et les
Hourrites: Dix ans de travaux, Deuxime Partie, Actes du colloque international (Paris, mai 1993) (ed.
Jean-Marie Durand and Dominique Charpin; Paris: ERC, 2001), 32938; Bertrand Lafont, Relations internationales, alliances et diplomatie au temps des royaumes amorrites, in Amurru
2: Mari, bla et les Hourrites, 213328; and most recently the insightful essay by Andrew R.
Davis, Answer me Properly!: Diplomatic Strategy and Subterfuge in the Treaty Texts from
Mari, Ancient Near Eastern Studies 50 (2013): 24354.
15
For a (political) history of the Old Babylonian period see Dominique Charpin, Histoire politique du Proche-Orient Amorrite (2002-1595), in Mesopotamien: Die altbabylonische
Zeit (ed. Pascal Attinger, Walther Sallaberger, and Markus Wfler; OBO 160/4; Fribourg: Academic Press/Gttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2004), 25480.
16
For this letter see Jean-Marie Durand, Florilegium marianum VII: Le culte dAddu dAlep et
laffaire dAlahtum (Mmoires de N.A.B.U. 8; Paris: SEPOA, 2002), 47.
17
According to Wolfgang Heimpel, Letters to the King of Mari: A New Translation, With Historical Introduction, Notes, and Commentary (MC 12; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2003), 533,
Dadi-adun is identical to Dadi-adnu.
18
For an edition of the letter and the others in this dossier (FM 7 19), see Durand, Le
culte dAddu dAlep, 329.
14
56

Has Zimri-Lim forgotten the command of Addu? Indeed, I fear that Zimri-Lim does
not know that in the Land of Addu a refugee cannot be extradited! (lines 25-29)
The expression command of Addu (m Addu) suggests that this information was
acquired through some form of divination. While the oraclewhether gained
through prophecy or a different divinatory discipline must remain openwas directed at the customs of the kingdom of Yamad, and primarily a matter for interior policy, it had obvious ramifications for Yamads foreign policy. The fact that
Yarim-Lim attempted to maintain the right to asylum in his kingdom even though
the people seeking asylum had started an insurrection against his protg Zimri-Lim indicates that the regard for the command of Addu was genuine.19
It is impossible for us to know whether Yarim-Lims final change of heart regarding this matterhe does extradite the rebellious chiefs to his vassal Zimri-Limis the result of another oracle or whether he simply decided to ignore the
divine command by his chief deity.20 For our question it is interesting, however, to
see that divinatory oracles were used not only for interior politics but also to justify behavior that would otherwise be difficult to understand.
The Alatum Affair

Zimri-Lim had a real-estate portfolio in the kingdom of Yamad throughout
his reign.21 The reason for his purchase of villages in his neighbors kingdom appears to have been to make the court in Mari independent of deliveries of luxury
goods, particularly of wine and oil. At some point in the tenth year of his reign (=ZL
9) when ammurapi had succeeded his father Yarim-Lim as king of Yamad, he
acquired a village called Alatum.22 In spite of the change of king around the time
19
It is interesting to note that the contemporary Hammurapi also uses religious reasoning in his diplomatic correspondence, see Davis, Answer me Properly! 24950, who
quotes ARM 26 469, in which Hammurapi tells Zimri-Lim that he cannot swear the oath for a
diplomatic alliance between them because the day that was set aside for that is ominous in
connection with the moon-god Sn.
20
As is evident by the fact that Mari and Enunna agreed on a peace-treaty in spite of
oracles to the contrary (ARM 26 197, 199, 202), divinatory oracles could be ignored, or at
least over-ridden if the circumstances demanded it. See Dominique Charpin, Le contexte
historique et gographique de prophties dans les textes retrouvs Mari, BCSMS 23 (1992):
2225; Jack M. Sasson, The Posting of Letters with Divine Messages, in Florilegium marianum
II: Recueil dtudes la mmoire de Maurice Birot (ed. Dominique Charpin and Jean-Marie Durand; Mmoires de N.A.B.U. 3 / Supplment N.A.B.U. 1994 no. 2; Paris: SEPOA, 1994), 305
306.
21
For a historical mise-en-scene of the entire Alatum-affair see Durand, Le culte
dAddu dAlep, 59148. Charpin, Histoire politique, 230 suggests that Alatum is Alala, and
that is a possibility, but none that can be proven positively, see Durand, Le culte dAddu dAlep,
6566.
22
This ammurapi should not be confused with the king of Babylon of the same name
JONATHAN STKL
57
of Zimri-Lims purchase, everything appears to have gone smoothly. Indeed,

Nur-Sin, a Mariote emissary to the court of ammur-Rapi of Yamad had already
organized the cultivation of the fields around Alatum. But the Queen-Mother
Gaera seems to have chosen that moment in time to complain to ammurapi, her
son, that she had not agreed to the sale/relinquishing of some of her land. Nur-Sin
writes a long somewhat despondent letter to his king Zimri-Lim in which he informs him of the proceedings (FM 7 36).
The letters containing prophetic messages from Addu to Zimri-Lim, also sent
by Nur-Sin should be read in this context. Nur-Sin writes that he has been approached by male and female prophets (pilum/piltum) of Addu of Kallassu, and
that their message is for Zimri-Lim.23 In the message, Addu demands to be given a
piece of real estate near Alatumin all likelihood the piece demanded by Gaera.
In return for obeisance, symbolized by the gift of this piece of real estate, Addu
promises to support Zimri-Lim, and to give him land upon land. In case Zimri-Lim should decide not to give the land, Addu threatens Zimri-Lim with being
deposed.
We would expect this kind of message, especially using the language of parental protection in a royal oracle within a state, as we find them, for example, in
some of the prophetic oracles from the Neo-Assyrian empire.24 But we might not
expect a deity from one country to utter oracles ofconditionalsupport for a
foreign king. Effectively, Mari relied on the support from Yamad so that one
could argue that Addu of Aleppo and Addu of Kallassu were not addressing a foreign king as such but that they were operating within their sphere of influence. On
the surface, this model differs somewhat from the episode of Rabshakeh (2 Kgs
18-19, Isa 36) and Pharaoh Necho (2 Chr 35). There the attacker marching through
the attacked country claims that the local deity gave them the authority to do so
(even if this situation is transmitted in texts of the invaded nation). Here we see
the king of Yamad and his deity Addu claiming authority over Mari, but the text
originates with Aleppine prophets and is transmitted by a Mariote ambassador. No
(direct) military threat accompanies these actions, nor is it the Mariote goddess
Ekallatum or a Mariote form of Addu who speaks. What these two somewhat different forms of divinatory communication share, however, is the claim to power
and influence over a foreign area as expressed through divine authority.25
at the same time. See Charpin, Histoire politique, 23031 for some further information.
Since we have no Old Babylonian texts from Aleppo itself all our knowledge is dependent on
outside sources. Charpin, Histoire politique, 230 suggests that Alatum is Alala; while
that is possible, it cannot be proven positively, see Durand, Le culte dAddu dAlep, 6566.
23
FM 7 39.
24
E.g., SAA 9 2.5, where lines iii 2628 read: 26anku abbuka ummaka 27birti agappya
urtabbka 28nmalka ammar (I am your father [and] your mother! Between my wings I will
raise you! I will see your success!).
25
Dominique Charpin, Prophtes et rois dans le proche-orient Amorrite: nouvelles
donnes, nouvelles perspectives, in Florilegium marianum VI: Recueil dtudes la mmoire
58
Aaron Tugendhaft sees a similar model at play in the related letter FM 7 38.26
In this letter, Nur-Sin transmits a prophetic oracle from Addu of Aleppo to Zimri-Lim in which the deity claims that he supported Yadun-Lim, Zimri-Lims ancestor on the throne of Mari, in all his battles until Yadun-Lim abandoned Addu.
According to the oracle, Addus revenge to this betrayal was swift and enacted by
the ami-Adad, the king of the short-lived Empire of Upper Mesopotamia. The
deity goes on to demand that he be consulted on all decisions regarding military
campaigns. Tugendhafts interprets this as indicating that the Aleppine court gets
to decide whom Mari should attack and when.27 While Tugendhafts interpretation
is likely to be correct within the scope of Old Babylonian realpolitik my aim in this
paper is a study of theological constructions, and from that perspective Addu of
Aleppo claims that his authority transcends the borders of the kingdom of Aleppo.28
A further letter, FM 6 18, sent to Zimri-Lim by his vassal Sumu-Lanasi contains
the opposite case.29 Sumu-Lanasi attributes Zimri-Lims successful bid to power
not to Addu of Aleppo but to the god of your father, presumably Itur-Mer. But
Sumu-Lanasi does not stop there. A few lines below he attributes also his own successful capture of his ancestral throne to Itur-Mer.30 Sumu-Lanasi thereby puts
himself in precisely the position that the message of Addu of Aleppo aims to establish between Yarim-Lim and Zimri-Lim.
CROSS-BORDER DIVINATION IN THE HEBREW BIBLE

The Pharaoh as Prophet?
2 Chronicles 35 retells the narrative of Josiahs reform also found in 2 Kgs 23
and his death at the hands of Pharaoh Necho in Megiddo, adding one episode that
dAndr Parrot (ed. Dominique Charpin and Jean-Marie Durand; Mmoires de N.A.B.U. 7; Paris:
SEPOA, 2002), 7-38, see in particular pages 2325 and 2831.
26
See Aaron Tugendhaft, Baal and the Problem of Politics in the Bronze Age (Ph.D.
diss., New York University, 2012), 63120. FM 7 38 has the museum number A.1968 and is
sometimes referred to it as that in the secondary literature. For the text see Durand, Le culte
dAddu dAlep, 13437. I would like to thank Aaron Tugendhaft for making available to me a
copy of his excellent thesis prior to publication.
27
Tugendhaft, Baal and the Problem of Politics, 99100.
28
Charpin, Prophtes et rois, 31 and Durand, Le culte dAddu dAlep, 23.
29
Tugendhaft, Baal and the Problem of Politics, 8285 discusses this text and points
out the brilliant rhetorical strategy employed by Sumu-Lanasi.
For the text, see Jean Robert Kupper, Dans les jardins de Carkmish, in Florilegium
marianum VI: Recueil dtudes la mmoire dAndr Parrot (ed. Dominique Charpin and
Jean-Marie Durand; Mmoires de N.A.B.U. 7; Paris: SEPOA, 2002), 195200.
30
Lines 1822 read: Now, the god [of my lord] Zimri-Lim is strong and he has set me
on the throne of the house of my father.
JONATHAN STKL
59
is of interest for our enterprise here. In vv. 2122, Necho sends word to Josiah that
he does not want to attack the Judeans; rather, his army is marching northward in
order to attack the Babylonians. He adds it is Gods will that I hurry. Refrain, then,
from interfering with God who is with me, that he not destroy you (v. 21). The
following verse shows Josiah stubbornly refusing to heed Nechos warning: But
Josiah would not let him alone; instead, he sought31 to fight him, heedless of
Nechos words from the mouth of God; and he came to fight in the plain of Megiddo. It is clear, as all the commentators say, that the Chronicler inserted the episode in order to explain why Josiah, the faultless king, died in battle shortly after
his reforms.32
Presumably, the Chronicler painted a picture that at least the author himself
thought credible enough: the idea that God would transmit a divinatory message
to Josiah via Necho and his messengers must therefore have been acceptable to his
readers. As a consequence we can take seriously the theo-political construction
that the Judean deity YHWH can communicate with the Judean king via another
king.33 It is almost as if Necho was co-opted into the Judean court as one of Josiahs
prophets. The fact that Necho is Pharaoh makes this observation all the more peculiar, as he stands for the oppressing house of slavery ( ; Exod 20:2). As
we shall see, however, the Chroniclers Pharaoh is not the only unlikely candidate
to be granted a status close to that of a servant of YHWH. He shares that status with
Cyrus, Nebuchadnezzar, and the Assyrian Rabshakeh.
This term is normally translated as he disguised himself. I see no reason to assume

that the authors of a text as late as 2 Chronicles 35 were not capable of the somewhat more
complicated syntax with depending on , even if the finite verb would
normally be much closer to the dependent infinitive
32
Whether or not these reforms ever took place is not at issue, since we are concerned
with the literary construction here. On Josiahs reform see Zeev Herzog, Perspectives on
Southern Israels Cult Centralization: Arad and Beer-sheba, in One God, One Cult, One Nation:
Archaeological and Biblical Perspectives (ed. Reinhard G. Kratz and Hermann Spieckermann;
BZAW 405; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2010), 16999; Rainer Albertz, Why a Reform Like Josiahs
Must Have Happened, in Good Kings and Bad Kings (ed. Lester L. Grabbe; LHBOTS 393 / ESHM
5; London: T & T Clark, 2005), 2746; Christoph Uehlinger, Was There a Cult Reform Under
King Josiah? The Case for a Well-Grounded Minimum, in Good Kings and Bad Kings, 279316.
33
The overwhelming majority of commentators is of the opinion that the deity mentioned here is Judahs god YHWH. Compare e.g. Ralph W. Klein, 2 Chronicles: A Commentary
(Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2012), 525-26. But see Sara Japhet, I & II Chronicles (OTL;
London: SCM, 1993), 1056, who thinks that the god in 2 Chr 35:21 refers to the statue of a
deity whom Necho brought along from Egypt, while in v. 22 God refers to Judahs deity. H.
G. M. Williamson, 1-2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982), 410-11 does not comment on the question at all.
31
60
Rabshakeh as YHWHs Prophet

2 Kings 1819 and Isaiah 3638 both contain a narrative of the siege of Jerusalem in 701 BCE by the Assyrians. The chief cupbearer (rb-q) says to the Judean
officials, do you think I have marched against this land to destroy it without
YHWH? YHWH himself told me, Go up against that land and destroy it (2 Kgs 18:25;
similarly Isa 36:10).
In effect, what Rabshakeh says (on behalf of Sennacherib) to the Judeans is
that their deity commanded the Assyrians to take Jerusalem. This tactic, which was
also used by the Romans is regarded as a means of psychological warfare, an attempt to undermine the locals conviction that their deity is protecting them.34 It
is also, of course, the inverse of the principal by which a nation could understand
its own loss of independence. There are several examples in ancient Near Eastern
texts in which a defeat and subsequent loss of the statue of their deity was rationalized as the deity wanting to go on vacation to see the sights or to go on a business trip or that the deity was angry with the local population for one reason or
another.35 Rabshakeh, therefore, tries to convince all those who are listening to
him speaking in Judean (v. 26) that from a religious point of view, their city is
already lost and that giving up would be to obey YHWH, their own deity.
The model by which a deity commands the hand of a foreign king used to be
thought of as something peculiar to the Hebrew Bible, particularly when applied to
Nebuchadnezzar II as YHWHs servant ( ; Jer 25:9, 27:6, and 43:10) and Cy-
34
Peter Dubovsk, Hezekiah and the Assyrian Spies: Reconstruction of the Neo-Assyrian Intelligence Services and its Significance for 2 Kings 1819 (BibOr 49; Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute,
2006, 1920, 22938 argues that the Neo-Assyrians do the same thing in their conflict with
Hezekiah. On pp. 16188 he discusses the use of psychological warfare in the campaigns by
Tiglath-Pileser III and Sargon II in Babylonia. In the cases of the Neo-Assyrian interventions
in Babylonia, Dubovsk includes several different kind of actions, not all of which I would
refer to as psychological warfare. Bribing of enemies with promises of future tax relief (pp.
16168) is certainly part of the actions of a secret service, but addresses to the masses to
undermine their confidence in their rulers and gods seems to me to be closer to actual forms
of psychological warfare.
35
See, e.g., J. J. M. Roberts, Nebuchadnezzar Is Elamite Crisis in Theological Perspective, in Essays on the Ancient Near East in Memory of Jacob Joel Finkelstein (ed. Maria deJong Ellis;
Memoirs of the Connecticut Academy of Arts and Sciences 19; Hamden: Published for The
Academy by Archon Books, 1977), 18387. Morton Cogan assembled some Neo-Assyrian references to local deities supporting the Assyrians rather than the local population in his Imperialism and Religion: Assyria, Judah and Israel in the Eighth and Seventh Centuries BCE (SBLMS 19;
Missoula: Scholars Press, 1974), 921. I would like to thank Jacob Wright for pointing this
reference out to me. On this question see also his The Deportation of Jerusalems Wealth
and the Demise of Native Sovereignty in the Book of Kings, in Interpreting Exile: Displacement
and Deportation in Biblical and Modern Contexts (ed. Brad E. Kelle, Frank Ritchel Ames, and Jacob
L. Wright; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2011), 10533, especially 12124.
JONATHAN STKL
61
rus as his/my anointed (/ ;Isa 45:1).36 The notion was that this revolutionary new idea allowed Judeans to maintain their ethnic identity and thereby
enabled Yahwistic religion to prosper. As intimated above, we know that the idea
was a common ancient Near Eastern thought model that allowed theologians to
rationalize defeat. What is special in the case of the Hebrew Bible in this context is
that Deutero-Isaiah seems to develop this idea in the context of a monotheistic
understanding of YHWH.37 The different theological context gives the same basic
structure its new and far-reaching impact.
Returning to the question of prophetic divination used as a means of warfare,
we can state that referring to YHWH is a form of psychological warfare akin to the
use of leaflets or propaganda radio in more recent conflicts.38 Unlike the more
modern forms of warfare, appeal to the deity serves to underline the attackers
claim. From the point of view that the Judeans had a treaty with the Assyrians and
that Hezekiah rebelled against the stipulations of that treaty, it is likely that the
Assyrians claim that YHWH commanded him to wage war against Judah would
make factual and historical sense as well. If Judah had some form of contractual
understanding with Assyria, it is likely that the treaty included treaty curses. In
such a circumstance, both Judean and Assyrian ideologues and theologians would
have understood the Assyrians action as the carrying out of the curses, which
would have been understood to have been enforced by at least Assur and YHWH.39
Thus, Rabshakehs claim that YHWH himself told him to go up against that land
and destroy it would be exactly what both sides should expect after the Judean
breach of the agreement. The fact that Rabshakeh explicitly mentions it (at least in
36
In Isa 45:1 the Septuagint has the better text: = . For a short
discussion of the matter and some secondary literature regarding the references to Jeremiah
as the servant see Jonathan Stkl, Nebuchadnezzar: History, Memory and Myth-Making in
the Persian Period, in Bringing the Past to the Present in the Late Persian and Early Hellenistic
Period: Images of Central Figures (ed. Ehud Ben Zvi and Diana Edelman; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), 25769; for a discussion of the implications of Isa 45:1, see Joseph Blenkinsopps contribution to this volume (page 135).
37
Saul M. Olyan, Is Isaiah 40-55 Really Monotheistic, JANER 12 (2012): 4 has recently
questioned the monotheistic nature of Dtr-Isa, but in my view it is easier to assume that
idioms from the polytheistic past are still being used in a monotheistic environment. A good
example of this kind of thing can be seen in Psalm 82, which undoubtedly uses the imagery
of the divine council, but only in order to demote all its members apart from YHWH.
38
On the use of radio as a means of propaganda in the Second World War see, e.g., M. A.
Doherty, Nazi Wireless Propaganda: Lord Haw-Haw and British Public Opinion in the Second World
War (International Communications; Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2000).
39
As is well-known, the Sefire treaty includes treaty curses sworn by and enforced by
the deities of both sides, Sefire A 14-42, see Joseph A. Fitzmyer S.J., The Aramaic Inscriptions of
Sefre (Rev. ed.; BibOr 19/A; Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1995). In his study of Assyrian
Religion in its imperial enterprise, Cogan points to several texts in which Neo-Assyrian rulers claim that deities had abandoned rulers, e.g., OIP 2 64: 2224 (their gods abandoned
them, rendering them helpless referring to the several rebellious cities on the border to
Qummu; Cogan, Religion and Empire, 11).
62
the literary memory of the events as transmitted in 2 Kings) suggests that he

thought that it would give him a strategic advantage.
CONCLUSIONS
Above, we have looked at several cases in which divination, prophetic and
probably technical, was used or referred to in the diplomatic correspondence of
several ancient kingdoms and empires. This shows that the earliest prophetic texts
known to us today show how divination is used in inter-state relations. In cases of
conflict, such as we see the message of Rabshakeh to the Judeans, as well as the
Roman religious-military rite of the evocatio, the foreign power claims that the
local patron deity is communicating with them, and that the patron deity commands them to take control of the city and its inhabitants.
Divine support in the form of an oracle to take command of a deitys earthly
dominion is usually claimed by usurpers or other kings whose succession is less
than obvious.40 Zimri-Lim is a good example for this, as he had to conquer his ancestral throne before he could become king of Mari. Similarly, when the Romans
claimed that the patron deity of a city supports them, they are essentially claiming
the city to be part of their rightful dominion. Likewise, Rabshakeh claims that by
breaking their loyalty oath to the Assyrians, the Judeans had essentially forfeited
the right to self-governance (even if that is not exactly what happenedbut we
have to keep in mind that the story is transmitted to us via Judean writings and
memory).
The situation is slightly different in the case of Necho and the examples from
Mari, as the lines of communication and the transmitted message are different.
Necho is the most obscure of the cases debated here. YHWH uses Necho as a megaphone to tell Josiah not to attack him. If the story had been transmitted in Egyptian texts we could claim that this act by YHWH in effect transmitted political authority over Judah to Necho. But the fact that it is used by the Chronicler to explain Josiahs untimely deathparticularly after Manassehs unexpectedly long
lifeindicates that it is not Nechos authority that is strengthened but YHWHs,
whose control over history was thought to extend to include Necho and the Egyptians. Rather than the Egyptians taking over Judah, it therefore symbolizes YHWH
taking over Egypt.
The Old Babylonian correspondence between Yarim-Lim, king of Yamad
(Aleppo), and Zimri-Lim, king of Mari, regarding the asylum seekers can be understood as an attempt by Yarim-Lim to protect the religious and cultural tradition to
40
For this, see, e.g., Stephanie Dalley, Old Babylonian Prophecies at Uruk and Kish, in
Opening the Tablet Box: Near Eastern Studies in Honor of Benjamin R. Foster (ed. Sarah C. Melville
and Alice Louise Slotsky; CHANE 42; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2010), 8597; Jonathan Stkl, Ancient Near Eastern Prophecy, in Dictionary of the Old Testament: Prophets (ed. J. Gordon
McConville and Mark J. Boda; Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2012), 1624.
JONATHAN STKL
63
offer asylum within his kingdompresumably Zimri-Lim himself had benefited

from exactly this tradition after ami-Adad conquered Mari early in Zimri-Lims
life. Zimri-Lim, however, wants to make sure that there is no further insurrection
against his rule by the tribal groups and their chiefs in his kingdom; therefore, he
wants to make sure that he can punish these chieftains. While Yarim-Lim holds out
for some time, in the end he gives in and extradites the chieftains. Yarim-Lim uses
a divine command as an explanation for holding out against Zimri-Lims request,
meaning that he argues that he is bound to uphold the right to asylum by Addus
command. Yarim-Lim invokes Addus command not only because Addu is his patron deity, but also because Zimri-Lim himself is bound to the deity and his support when he acquired his ancestral throne.
This is expressed by Nur-Sins letters to Zimri-Lim, in which various hypostases of Addu remind Zimri-Lim of this support and claim various rewards for their
support. There is the piece of real estate, Alatum, and there is the typical bit of
royal ideology that the king ought to protect the rights of those wronged. The fact
that Aleppine forms of Addu can communicate with Zimri-Lim in the way that they
do indicates that they understood him as a king under their command, which in
turn essentially turns the communication between them and Zimri-Lim into a domestic political affair.
We have seen that divine communication, by whichever means, is used in international politics in the ancient Near East in order to change the power dynamics from one in which two unrelated neighbors interact with each other to one in
which both sides claim support in some shape from the local patron deity. This, in
turn, changes the power dynamics of foreign politics into those of internal politics,
which is used to legitimize the actions of both parties. To put it bluntly: Rabshakeh
ceases to be a representative for the foreign Assyrian king and turns into a representative of the Assyrian king, who is the earthly representative of YHWH. Thus,
divination used in foreign affairs can have significant ramification for the rhetoric,
but also the actions taken by each side.
4
Revisiting Biblical Prophecy, Revealed Knowledge
Pertaining to Ritual, and Secrecy in Light of
Ancient Mesopotamian Prophetic Texts
Alan Lenzi
Five years ago, in my work on secret knowledge in ancient Mesopotamia and

Biblical Israel, I suggested a fundamental distinction between the treatment of
secret, revelatory knowledge in ancient Mesopotamian sources and the same in
biblical sources.1 In the Mesopotamian sources, revealed knowledge was kept secret, guarded by a small cadre of elite scribal scholars who served the king. In the
biblical representations2 of such, revealed knowledge was not guarded; rather, it
was openly available to all who could read or hear it. I aligned this distinction in
the treatment of revealed knowledge to the geopolitical standing of Mesopotamia
vs. ancient Israel/Judah: Mesopotamian texts came from a sphere with a longstanding tradition of political and military hegemony; biblical texts arose from
politically minor and subservient powers. In formulating these conclusions, I compared the treatment of the most important revealed textual corpora in the two
spheres: the scholarly revelatory traditions in Mesopotamia that served the royal
1
I wish to thank Jeff Cooley, Jonathan Stkl, and Tyler Yoder for their critical comments on a previous draft of this essay. I alone, however, bear responsibility for the ideas
and formulations contained herein.
2
I use the words representation and presentation here purposefully to distinguish
between the historical reality in ancient Judah/Israel and the literary presentation. This is a
distinction that I employed in SAAS 19 but, in retrospect, did not maintain carefully enough
in the chapter on prophecy (chapter 4). See the third section below.
65
66
courts (i.e., extispicy, exorcism, celestial divination, etc.)3 and the literary representation of Judean/Israelite ritual legislation in the Bible (i.e., materials in the
Priestly source, Deuteronomy, and Ezekieldisregarding in some respects their
original Sitz im Leben).4
Because the biblical ritual legislation was revealed to a propheta kind of divinerin all three major corpora (i.e., Moses, as presented in Exodos 67 and Deuteronomy 5, and Ezekiel, as presented in Ezekiel 13), I examined biblical representations of prophets to understand how this informed the authorization of mediators of revealed knowledge pertaining to ritual in the Bible. For the present purposes, the point of interest in my treatment of prophets is the one I based on the
work of John Holladay. In his article Assyrian Statecraft and the Prophets of Israel Holladay claimed that the role and practices of Neo-Assyrian imperial messengers, starting at the end of the ninth century BCE, informed the (historical) role and
function of the so-called writing prophets in Israel and Judah.5 According to Holladay, the Hebrew Bible generally depicts the so-called classical prophets as messengers of an imperial king who are sent to convey a message to the vassal king, that
is, the kings of Judah and Israel, as one sees in the Deuteronomistic History and to
some extent Chronicles.6 This model changed slightly in the late ninth century BCE,
according to Holladay, when Neo-Assyrian political policy shifted away from dealing with kings alone to dealing with whole vassal populations. Thus, instead of
addressing the king in royal correspondence, the Neo-Assyrian king sometimes
addressed whole populations in the salutation of his letters. In addition to cursing
or threatening to replace rebellious kings and their royal households in a treaty,
the Neo-Assyrian treaties also cursed whole populations, even threatening to deport them from their homeland (which the army in fact did on numerous occasions). And most importantly for our present concern: instead of sending messages
addressed to the vassal king alone, the Neo-Assyrian imperial messengers ad-
3
These corpora were considered revelations from Ea, god of wisdom and magic, delivered to the scribes by the ancient sages, the apkallu, via scribal transmission.
4
See Alan Lenzi, Secrecy and the Gods: Secret Knowledge in Ancient Mesopotamia and Biblical
Israel (SAAS 19; Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project, 2008).
5
See John S. Holladay, Jr., Assyrian Statecraft and the Prophets of Israel, HTR 63
(1970): 2951; repr. in Prophecy in Israel: Search for Identity (ed. David L. Petersen; Issues in
Religion and Theology 10; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987), 12243. Holladay supports his ideas
about Assyrian statecraft by appeal to a number of Assyrian documents, many of which are
now available in new editions in the State Archives of Assyria series. As my brief presentation of Holladays argument is only intended as background for the present article, I do not
reproduce his citations or provide updates for them here.
6
For substantiation of this point, see Lenzi, Secrecy and the Gods, 26061. With regard to
Chronicles, one must note the important distinction between prophets and prophecy and
the association of only the former with the human king, as argued by William Schniedewind,
The Word of God in Transition: From Prophet to Exegete in the Second Temple Period (JSOTSup 197;
Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995), 80129.
ALAN LENZI
67
dressed their messages to the entire vassal population.7 This shift in political policy
toward vassal populations, according to Holladay, influenced the manner in which
the ancient Hebrew prophets functioned (in history) and accounts for a noticeable
shift in the addressees of the so-called writing prophets (in biblical literature). Like
the Neo-Assyrian messengers, the ancient Hebrew prophets (who would become
writing prophets), beginning with the historical Amos in the eighth century BCE,
brought their message to the entire vassal peoplenot the vassal king alone.
I used Holladays Neo-Assyrian imperial messenger as model for the prophetic office idea to explain the literary presentation of the open treatment of revealed
knowledge in the Hebrew Bible.8 Since, according to the biblical presentation, Judah and Israel were vassals to Yahweh, their divine king, and were ultimately geopolitically marginal compared to their Mesopotamian imperial neighbors, I concluded that the Judean and Israelites kings as presented in the Bible were not
supposed to formulate secret plans of their own. They along with the people in
general were only to receive the divine orders from their imperial divine king
that when ready for implementation would be delivered openly by his messengers, the prophets, to the vassal people.9 Given this perspective on the prophets
and the fact that all revealed knowledge pertaining to ritual is framed as coming
from prophets, one can easily understand why this knowledge was not to be kept
secret, but communicated openly to all.
In formulating these foundational ideas about biblical prophecy and the open
mediation of revealed knowledge about ritual, however, I failed to take into account a broader view of ancient Near Eastern prophecy and to maintain a clear
distinction between the literary presentation of the biblical prophets and the historical reality of the ancient Hebrew prophets.10 Thus, I return to the topic of secrecy and prophecy in the Hebrew Bible in light of Mesopotamian prophetic texts:
their manner of initial presentation, their communication to others, and their
treatment as written texts. The most important questions in this regard include
7
Although Holladay notes an example of this from actual Assyrian documents (citing
Nimrud Letter ND 2632, recently re-edited as SAA 19 98, see Mikko Luukko, The Correspondence of Tiglath-Pileser III and Sargon II from Calah/Nimrud [SAA 19; Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian
Text Corpus Project, 2012], 104105), the parade example is found in 2 Kings 18:1719:9a, 36
37, the speech of Rabshakeh.
8
It is important to note that Holladays thesis is a historical one not simply a literary
one. That is, he believes the Assyrian shift in political policy affected the actual historical
prophets and the way they functioned in society. His point was not one that simply affected
the literary presentation of the prophets by redactors of the prophetic books. In my previous
treatment, I was concerned only with the literary presentation of the prophets but I did not
make this clear and did not sufficiently distinguish the historical acceptance from the literary utility of Holladays model.
9
Lenzi, Secrecy and the Gods, 268. See pp. 22171 for my treatment of biblical prophecy
and pp. 273305 for my discussion of the ritual corpora and the presentation of their intermediaries as prophets.
10
For the latter point, see the third section of this study below.
68
the following: Was Mesopotamian prophecy secret knowledge? To whom was

prophecy spoken and in what context? Were prophecies in some way restricted or
guarded from unauthorized listeners? When the prophecies were recorded in writing, were the written texts restricted or guarded from unauthorized readers? I
then return to the biblical corpus to consider how the answers to these questions
impact the interpretation of biblical prophecy, its relationship to secrecy that I
advocated previously,11 and, most importantly, our understanding of the Bibles
distinctively open treatment with regard to the biblical corpora pertaining to ritual.
PROPHECY AND SECRECY IN ANCIENT MESOPOTAMIA

I begin with a simple question: Was prophecy considered secret knowledge in
ancient Mesopotamia? I think the proper answer is both yes and no: yes, in that
Mesopotamian prophetic oracles disclosed the secrets of the gods and thus were
considered secret in terms of the messages origins; but no, in that the prophetic
oracles were not treated as a secret after their initial revelation.
An Old-Babylonian prophetic text from Iali (FLP 1674) provides the only direct evidence for the idea that prophetic oracles were considered secret at the
time of their revelation. The oracle reads as follows:
1. LUGAL i-ba-al-pi-el
2. um-ma dki-ti-tum-ma
3. ni5-i-re-tum a DINGIR.ME
4. ma-a-ri-ya a-ak-na
5. a-um zi-ik-ru-um
6. a u-mi-ya i-na p-ka
7. ka-ya-nu ni5-i-re-et DINGIR.ME
8. ap-ta-na-at-ti-a-ak-kum
9. i-na mi-il-ki
10. a DINGIR.ME i-na i-ip-
11. a an-nim ma-tum
12. a-na be-li-im
13. na-ad-na-at-ku-um
11
The Hebrew Bible is not univocal in its descriptions of prophetic activity. That is
manifestly clear upon a cursory reading (and was the impetus for Holladays study mentioned above). At the heart of the definition of prophecy (and thus biblical prophecy) is the
notion that prophets received and transmitted divine messages to others (see Martti Nissinen with C. L. Seow and Robert K. Ritner, Prophets and Prophecy in the Ancient Near East
[SBLWAW 12; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2003], 1). As this specific concept is the
point of discussion in the present context, I treat biblical prophecy, for the purposes of this
paper, as a conceptually uniform block of material, about which one may generalize. See
likewise Martti Nissinen, Biblical Prophecy from a Near Eastern Perspective: The Cases of
Kingship and Divine Possession, in Congress Volume Ljubljana 2007 (ed. A. Lemaire; VTSup 133;
Leiden: Brill, 2010), 44168, 444.
ALAN LENZI
69
14. i-in ma-tim e-li-tim

15. a-ap-li-tim ta-pa--ar
16. ma-ak-ku-ur ma-tim e-li-tim
17. a-ap-li-tim te-p-ed-de
18. ma-i-ir-ka -ul i-ma-a-
19. e-em ma-tim a qa-at-ka
20. ik-u-du a-ka-al
21. ta-ne-e-tim i-ka-[ni-(-um)]
22. i-di giGU.ZA-ka
23. a-na-ku dki-ti-tim
24. -da-na-an la-ma-sa-[am]
25. na-e-er-tam a-ta-ak-na-ak-kum
26. -zu-un-ka li-ib-ba-i-a-am
King Ibalpiel, thus says Kititum: The secrets of the gods are set before me. Because
the mention (lit. memory) of my name is constantly in your mouth, I continually
reveal (lit. open) the secrets of the gods to you. On the counsel of the gods (and) by
the judgment of Anu, the land is given to you to rule. You will ransom (lit. loosen
the sandal of) the upper and lower land. You will . . . (?) the possessions of the
upper and lower land. Your market will not diminish; the food of peace will be
firmly established for any country that you conquer (lit. your hand reaches). I,
Kititum, will fortify the foundation of your throne. I have appointed a protective
spirit to you. May your ear be (attentive) to me! 12
The first two sentences clearly indicate that prophetic oracles, like oracles acquired by means of extispicy (see below), belong to the secrets of the god. That is,
prophetic oracles are secret because they derive from realms of the divine sphere
to which human access is severely restricted.
The Iali text, as previously stated, is the only direct evidence we have for the
secret origins of prophetic revelations. However, there are texts that describe the
ad hoc oracular results13 of other forms of divination (e.g., extispicy and astrology)
12
The translation is my own, but it has benefitted from Nissinens (see his Prophets and
Prophecy in the Ancient Near East, 9495). My translation of the verb tapaar in line 15 and the
expression akal tantim in lines 2021 follows Nissinens understanding, who bases himself
on Maria deJong Ellis, The Goddess Kititum Speaks to King Ibalpiel: Oracle Texts from
Ishchali, MARI 5 (1987): 23566, here 263. But I do not follow them in their rather tenuous
derivation of tepedde in line 17 from pad/ped, to spare, to release, to relent, to stop (Nissinen, Prophets and Prophecy in the Ancient Near East, 95; Ellis, The Goddess Kititum Speaks,
263). Pad/ped is usually used with gods or cosmic powers as the subject. The three attestations where this is not the case are somewhat obscure and do not offer a parallel to justify
the translation amass (Nissinen, 94) or loosen/ransom (Ellis, 240, 258) in the present
context (see CAD P, 67). Thus, I prefer to leave it untranslated for now. For my previous
discussion of this text in light of divinatory practice and secret knowledge, see Lenzi, Secrecy
and the Gods, 5862.
13
Ad hoc oracular results ought to be distinguished from the canonical omen collections. The former are temporary, as they are linked to a particular situation. The latter are
70
as a secret of the gods. Since prophecy is a form of divination, these may provide
indirect support for the secret origin of Mesopotamian prophetic oracles. Note, for
example, the following statement, occurring in a Standard Babylonian ikribuprayer as well as ritual texts of the diviner:
inaddin ama ana mr br piriti ama u Adad
ama will give to the diviner the secret of ama and Adad.14
Such a statement indicates clearly that the results of extispicy were considered
secret knowledge from the divine realm. Similar to this, a colophon attached to
astrological tablet Ki.1904-10-9, 94 suggests that observing celestial omens resulted
in the revelation of secrets from the divine realm, too. The text reads:15
26. ta-mar-ti DINGIR.ME GAL.ME ni-ir-ti AN u KI
27. ta-mar-ti mu-kal-lim-ti ni-ir-ti um-ma-a-ni
The observation (i.e., viewing the astral appearance) of the great gods (is) the secret of heaven and earth. The reading of commentary (on it is) the secret (texts or
prerogatives) of the scholars.
The idea that prophecy, like other forms of divination, revealed secret divine
knowledge is not very surprising. In fact, we might have deduced it without explicit textual support from two obvious facts: the divine mind was considered inscrutable and the divine realms, whether the heavens or the netherworld, whence divinatory oracles derived,16 were generally conceived as inaccessible to humans.
part of an authoritative textual corpus that functions as an interpretive apparatus for various omina, observed or induced. See Lenzi, Secrecy and the Gods, 67.
14
Heinrich Zimmern, Beitrge zur Kenntinis der babylonischen Religion (AB 12; Leipzig: J. C.
Hinrichs, 1901), no. 88, rev. 3; see also no. 120, lines 18, 26, 119 and no. 24, line 38. I cite the
text above in normalization because the orthography of the various texts attesting it differs
from one text to another. For a broader discussion of divination and secrecy, see Lenzi, Secrecy and the Gods, 2766. The present texts are discussed on p. 57.
15
The citation follows Hermann Hunger, Babylonische und assyrische Kolophone (AOAT 2;
Kevelaer: Butzon & Bercker / Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukircherner Verlag des Erziehungsvereins, 1968), no. 519. Hungers lines 2627 are rev. 910. For my earlier discussion of this text,
see Lenzi, Secrecy and the Gods, 21213. Although my conceptual understanding remains the
same, the present rendering has benefitted from Frahms brief discussion in his Babylonian
and Assyrian Text Commentaries: Origins of Interpretation (GMTR 5; Mnster: Ugarit-Verlag,
2011), 47. Frahm makes the point that the statement takes advantage of the different meanings of tmartu, appearance, observation, viewing, reading (see CAD T, 111). He also notes
alternative renderings of the passage in the secondary literature in n.191. Parenthetically,
these celestial omen observations, as the citation suggests, were textualized and became the
object of scholarly hermeneutical activity. Frahm explores these hermeneutical activities of
ancient Mesopotamian scribal scholars extensively in his work.
16
For the mythology of extispicy and the resulting oracles connection to the netherworld, see Piotr Steinkeller, Of Stars and Men: The Conceptual and Mythological Setup of
ALAN LENZI
71
Thus, whatever insight or knowledge that purported to originate with the gods
and their abodes would have been considered privileged information.17
As stated earlier, I believe it is important to separate the secret origins of
prophecies (or other oracular results, for that matter) from their treatment among
humans, including both at the time of their initial communication to others and
their subsequent treatment as a written text (if applicable).18 The question at root
is this: Did the secret origins of prophecy in the divine sphere also require that the
disclosed message continue to be treated as secret subsequent to its revelation
among humans? To gather evidence for this broad question, I ask the following
more specific questions: To whom was prophecy spoken and in what context?
Were prophecies in some way restricted or guarded from unauthorized listeners?
And perhaps most importantly, when prophecies were recorded in writing, are
there any indications that the resulting written texts were restricted or guarded
from unauthorized readers?
Although there are a handful of texts from other locales, the lions share of
Mesopotamian prophetic texts, as is well-known, comes from the Old Babylonian
site of Mari and the first millennium context of the state archive of Assyria in Ni-
Babylonian Extispicy, in Biblical and Oriental Essays in Memory of William L. Moran (ed. A. Gianto; BibOr 48; Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 2005), 1147. For the relationship of
prophets to the divine council in ancient Mesopotamia, see Martti Nissinen, Prophets and
the Divine Council, in Kein Land fr sich allein: Studien zum Kulturkontact in Kanaan, Israel/
Palstina und Ebirnri fr Manfred Weippert zum 65. Geburtstag (ed. U. Hbner and E. A. Knauf;
OBO 186; Fribourg: Universittsverlag / Gttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2002), 419.
Nissinen appeals to ARM 26 196, ARM 26 208, FLP 1674 (cited above), SAA 3 13, SAA 9 9: 16
21, SAA 13 139, Prism B v 15vi 16, and SAA 12 69 to support his claims. Jonathan Stkl has
re-assessed the texts and concluded that the Mesopotamian prophets did not stand in the
divine council themselves (as in the Hebrew Bible); rather, the prophet conveys the divine
message from the deity who was actually in the divine council to hear it. See his Prophecy in
the Ancient Near East: A Philological and Sociological Comparison (CHANE 56; Boston/Leiden: Brill,
2012), 22426. In either case, the prophecy derives from a typically inaccessible divine realm
directly or indirectly by way of a prophet.
17
See, e.g., Babylonian Theodicy, lines 58, 8287, and 25664 (W. G. Lambert, Babylonian
Wisdom Literature [Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1960; repr. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1996], 75,
77, and 87, who cites Gudea Cylinder A, vii 4 as a parallel to line 256 in the notes on p. 309)
and Ludlul Bl Nmeqi I 2932, II 3338 (Amar Annus and Alan Lenzi, Ludlul bl nmeqi: The
Standard Babylonian Poem of the Righteous Sufferer [SAACT 7; Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian Text
Corpus Project, 2010], 16, 20). One could also note, though somewhat less directly relevant,
the heavenly ascent of Adapa, the first of the famed apkallu, in the myth that bears his name
and its role as a foundation myth for cultic officials, who have access to the gods and yet do
not enjoy divine privileges (such as immortality and clear insight into the divine mind). See
Mario Liverani, Myth and Politics in Ancient Near Eastern Historiography (ed. and introduced by
Zainab Bahrani and Marc Van De Mieroop; Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2004), 323 for
this interpretation.
18
This is a distinction I develop in Secrecy and the Gods, passim.
72
neveh.19 As I will show in the following brief overview of this material, there is no
clear evidence that Mesopotamian prophecy was generally treated in a secretive
manner by people after a prophets initial revelation of it.
We begin with a consideration of the locations within society where prophecies were originally pronounced. Is there any indication that the original oral conveyance of prophetic oracles occurred in settings that would have somehow kept
the messages secret or would have restricted in some way those who heard its contents? Although there are clues that messages had a somewhat restricted circulation, there is no clear evidence that the original oral conveyance was considered
secret, to be heard by only a select few.
Many of the Mesopotamian prophecies, especially among the Mari texts, were
received and pronounced by prophets20 in the temple of a deity, probably in front
of the divine image.21 This might suggest an exclusive group among the divine
messages initial audience. But it is very likely that the individuals charged with
various cultic and mundane tasks in the temples would have been within earshot
of such pronouncements. Thus, messages delivered in this setting might be considered limited in audience but still relatively public.22 In some Mari prophetic texts
the prophets delivered their message orally to a royal servant or royal family
19
See Nissinen, Prophets and Prophecy in the Ancient Near East for a convenient collection
of nearly all of the relevant texts. The most up-to-date list appears now in Stkl, Prophecy in
the Ancient Near East, 2934 for the Old Babylonian sources and 104109 for the Neo-Assyrian
ones.
20
I use the term prophet without regard to the intermediarys gender. There were
both male and female prophets in ancient Mesopotamia. I also use the term indiscriminately,
whether the speaker was an pilu, ma/u, raggintu, etc. For a reference to an overview of
these various titles and functions, see note 63 below.
21
For this observation, see Karel van der Toorn, From the Oral to the Written: The Case
of Old Babylonian Prophecy, in Writings and Speech in Israelite and Ancient Near Eastern Prophecy (ed. E. Ben Zvi and M. H. Floyd; SBLSymS 10; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2000),
219-34, 22123 and Mesopotamian Prophecy between Immanence and Transcendence: A
Comparison of Old Babylonian and Neo-Assyrian Prophecy, in Prophecy in its Ancient Near
Eastern Context: Mesopotamian, Biblical, and Arabian Perspectives (ed. M. Nissinen; SBLSymS 13;
Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2000), 70-87, 80. Texts that report an oracle that also
explicitly state that the recounted oracles were delivered in a temple include the following:
ARM 26 195: 57, ARM 26 199: 52b54, ARM 26 202: 79, ARM 26 212: 710, ARM 26 213: 57,
ARM 26 214: 57, ARM 26 219: 46, ARM 26 233: 1416 (although recounting a dream in
which Dagan speaks, the speaking occurs in the temple), and ARM 26 237: 2223. ARM 26 215:
1516, which states the prophet arose before Dagan (pn Dagan itb-ma) in a context already concerned with cultic matters, strongly implies that the prophet spoke in front of the
divine image in the temple. ARM 26 200, in which the ang of the Annuntum temple conveys an oracle to the king, also strongly implies the prophet delivered the oracle in a temple.
Among Neo-Assyrian texts, see the letter SAA 13 37: 711. The general practice of hearing
prophecy in the temple is mentioned in ARM 26 196: 812.
22
Note that Stkl classifies the messages described in ARM 26 200, 213, 214, 215, and
219, all delivered in a temple, as unequivocally public messages (Prophecy in the Ancient
Near East, 84).
ALAN LENZI
73
member (PN illikam-ma kam iqbm/iqbi, PN came and spoke to me), who then
conveyed the message to the palace via letter.23 This sort of transmission process
may suggest some level of discretion but nothing more than was given to the nonprophecy-related topics treated in the very same letters.24 Thus again, the prophecies were not treated in a particularly secretive manner. Finally, we have a few
prophecies, including some from the Neo-Assyrian corpus,25 that were delivered in
a very public setting: at the city gate in front of the assembled elders (ARM 26 206:
1316, 3234; the latter lines include an explicit statement that the prophet did not
speak his oracle in private or secret [ina imitim ul iqbm]; on which, see below), at
the gate to the royal palace (ARM 26 208: 78, 371: 916), in the midst of assembled
citizens (ARM 371: 1820, SAA 10 352, rev. 12),26 with a witness standing alongside
(FM 7 39: 68, 4647, 6061), or in public ritual contexts (possibly ARM 26 216, FLP
1674 [from Iali],27 and SAA 9 3.228). These last several texts clearly show that some
23
See, e.g., A.1968, ARM 26 197, 198, 199, 206, 208, 210, 220, 221, 243, and 414. Note, however, ARM 26 194, in which the prophet himself seems to be the sender of the letter. As
Charpin has noted, this letter may have been written by Utu-kam, the scribe sent at the
prophets request, as mentioned at the end of ARM 26 414. The former tablet then accompanied the latter tablet to the king (see Dominique Charpin, Prophtes et Rois dans le ProcheOrient Amorrite: Nouvelles Donnes, Nouvelles Perspectives, Florilegium marianum 6 [2002]:
1415. I thank Jonathan Stkl for this reference.)
24
For example, ARM 26 196 seems to deal with a prophetic oracle, which is immediately
followed by a report about grain.
25
Unfortunately, we do not know the Sitz im Leben of most of the Neo-Assyrian oracles
due to the fact that the collected prophetic oracles from the Neo-Assyrian royal archive at
Nineveh, published in SAA 9, do not preserve a clear indication of the oracles original places
of pronouncement. (I leave aside the rather vague statements about an intermediarys city of
origin [as in, e.g., SAA 9 1.1: 28 or SAA 9 2.2: 35, among several others] as irrelevant to the
issue of the Sitz im Leben of the actual prophetic pronouncement.) But many interpreters
have concluded that these oracles were delivered in a public setting. Representative of this
view is Jonathan Stkl, who writes, [h]aving very little evidence to go on for the Sitz im
Leben of prophecy in the Neo-Assyrian empire, it is impossible to prove whether it was situated in the public sphere or not, but based on anthropological parallels, as well as both biblical and Old Babylonian evidence, it is likely that Neo-Assyrian prophecy was public as well
(Stkl, Prophecy in the Ancient Near East, 112. He cites several other scholars from the literature who agree with this view).
26
Note also the much later Hellenistic Astronomical Diary (AD 3 -132 B), which recounts
a prophet giving an apparently very provocative public prophecy in Babylon. For a brief
discussion of the text, see Martti Nissinen, A Prophetic Riot in Seleucid Babylonia, in Wer
darf hinaufsteigen zum Berg YHWHs? Beitrge zu Prophetie und Poesie des Alten Testaments, Festschrift fr Sigurur rn Steingrmsson zum 70. Geburtstag (ed. H. Irsigler; Arbeiten zu Text und
Sprache im Alten Testament 72; St. Ottilien: EOS Verlag, 2002), 6274.
27
William L. Moran argues that this oracle was delivered at a royal enthronement ceremony (see his An Ancient Prophetic Oracle, in Biblische Theologie und gesellschaftlicher Wandel: Fr Norbert Lohfink [ed. G. Braulik, W. Gro, and S. McEvenue; Freiburg: Herder, 1993],
25259, 254).
74
prophecies were not at all intended to be treated as secret information to be heard

by a select few.
One might suggest that the public pronouncement in ARM 26 206: 3234,
which states rather emphatically that an oracle was not delivered in private (ina
imitim) but in the assembly of the elders, is exceptional and thus suggests the
opposite as the norm, namely, that prophecies were typically treated as knowledge
best kept privatethus, a secret known only by a few royal servants and the king.29
This is a possible but unlikely interpretation. It is true that the very public pronouncement described in ARM 26 206 is atypical in our rather limited number of
sources; temple pronouncements or oral deliveries to a royal servant or family
member are much more common. But I think resting the idea that prophecies were
treated as secret knowledge in need of guarding on this one instance is more than
the phrase can bear, especially in light of the prophecies that were delivered in a
very public manner. It is much more likely that the writer of this letter was merely
commenting on the oracles atypical, very public delivery. Thus, as the examples in
the previous paragraph indicate, we have no conclusive evidence that the initial
oral delivery or conveyance of the oracles was somehow restricted, protected, or
kept secret.
After the initial oral delivery, the message normally needed to be transmitted
to its intended audience, usually the king.30 According to our available evidence,
which is textual and thus skewed, no doubt, prophetic messages were typically
transmitted via letter by a royal servant or family member to the king (compare
Amos 7:10).31 Some of the Neo-Assyrian oracles, after their delivery to the palace
28
SAA 9 3.2 may be an oracle used in the public enthronement of the Assyrian king.
Note that the addressee in line 1 is specified as the citizens of the land of Assyria. For the
interpretation that SAA 9 3 was used in the enthronement of Esarhaddon, see, e.g., Simo
Parpola, Assyrian Prophecies (SAA 9; Helsinki: Helsinki University Press, 1997), LXX; Martti
Nissinen, References to Prophecy in Neo-Assyrian Sources (SAAS 7; Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian
Text Corpus Project, 1998), 2628; and idem, Spoken, Written, Quoted, and Invented: Orality
and Writtenness in Ancient Near Eastern Prophecy, in Writings and Speech in Israelite and
Ancient Near Eastern Prophecy, 25153. Stkl, Prophecy in the Ancient Near East, 138140 discusses the controversy and gives references to alternative views.
29
This idea is suggested though not clearly affirmed by Beate Pongratz-Leisten, who
writes, Man knnte dies als Hinweis auf den generellen Ausschlu der ffentlichkeit aus
der Orakelpraxis werten, der hier durchbrochen wird (Herrschaftswissen in Mesopotamien:
Formen der Kommunikation zwischen Gott und Knig im 2. und 1. Jahrtausend v.Chr. [SAAS 10; Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project, 1999], 66).
30
Obviously, this only happened if the king were not himself already present at the
time of the messages pronouncement.
31
For the process of transmission, see Nissinens article, Spoken, Written, Quoted, and
Invented, passim and van der Toorn, From the Oral to the Written, 22528. ARM 26 201
explicitly refers to sending the king a tablet containing a prophecy (see also, e.g., ARM 26
197: 45, 206: 2831, and 217: 2728). In fact, however, all of the Mari prophecies are second
hand accounts delivered to the king via letter by one of his servants or a family member. The
practice of conveying prophetic oracles to the king in writing in a timely manner seems to
ALAN LENZI
75
by letter (probably),32 were preserved as individual oracle reports in the state archives (e.g., SAA 9 7 and 8) while others were re-copied and organized on larger socalled Sammeltafeln for preservation (see, e.g, SAA 9 1, 2, and perhaps 4).33 Are there
any hints of restrictions on who could receive such messages from the prophets,
carry the letters containing the messages, or be present when such were read?
These were precisely the issues in the Mari letters that surrounded extispicies and
conveying the secret results to others.34 With regard to prophecy, however, there
is no clear evidence that such letters, reports, or archived documents containing
prophecies were considered confidential,35 were protected from interception, or
were guarded from unauthorized eyes or ears.
As evidence to the contrary of this assertion, one might point to ARM 26 414, a
letter in which a prophet is quoted as saying, Send me a discreet (naram)36 scribe!
I will have him write down the message which ama has sent me for the king.37 If
the translation is accurate, this prophet intends to restrict access to his message,
limiting its exposure to the (discreet) scribe who will compose the letter conveying
it and the king, who was the intended recipient of the oracle.38 But it is not at all
clear that he demanded this discretion from the scribe as a matter of professional
principle, i.e., because prophecy was a restricted form of divinatory knowledge.39
In fact, it seems more likely that he made the request for a discreet scribe simply
because he believed the particular topic of this oracle was sensitive and needed to
be treated with care. Moreover, this one instance of a guarded prophecy does not
have been an expectation that faithful servants wanted to satisfy. Among the Mari texts, see
FM 7 39: 3445, written from the servants perspective, and ARM 26 196: 710, which is a
servants quotation of a royal order. Prophecies were reported to the king via letter in NeoAssyrian times as well. See SAA 10 24, 352; SAA 13 37, 139, 144, 148; and SAA 16 59, as listed in
Matthijs J. de Jong, Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets: A Comparative Study of the
Earliest Stages of the Isaiah Tradition and the Neo-Assyrian Prophecies (VTSup 117; Leiden/Boston:
Brill, 2007), 17677. He also suggests that SAA 9 10 and 9 11 are letters (172, 176, though on
the latter page he calls SAA 9 10 a report). Note also the expectation in the succession treaty
of Esarhaddon (SAA 2 6 10) that faithful servants report malevolent prophecies to the king.
32
So, e.g., Stkl, Prophecy in the Ancient Near East, 130 and de Jong, Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets, 172.
33
For the most recent discussion of the issues surrounding tablet form, content, and
genre of the SAA 9 prophetic texts, see Stkl, Prophecy in the Ancient Near East, 13141.
34
See Lenzi, Secrecy and the Gods, 2845.
35
As is asserted by van der Toorn, Old Babylonian Prophecy, 229.
36
For this translation and references to alternatives, see Nissinen, Prophets and Prophecy
in the Ancient Near East, 75, note d.
37
The translation is Nissinens (Prophets and Prophecy in the Ancient Near East, 75). The
Akkadian text reads: 311 L.DUMU up-p na-a-ra-am 32-ur-da-am-ma e4-ma-am a dUTU 33ana
LUGAL i-pu-ra-an-ni lu-a-[]-e4-er (see Durand, AEM I/2, 294).
38
See likewise Jean-Marie Durand, Les documents pistolaires du palais de Mari (vol. 2; LAPO
17; Paris: Cerf, 1998), 254.
39
Contra van der Toorn, Old Babylonian Prophecy, 229.
76
negate the fact that many other prophecies indicate a public or semi-public initial
audience.
Instances in which prophetic messages have more extensive chains of transmission, written and oral, would also suggest that maintaining the secrecy of prophetic messages was not a typical concern for the servants who passed prophetic
messages on to the king. For example, ARM 26 202 is a letter to the king from a
man whose father has written to him. In the letter the father reports the words of
a prophet he had heard in a temple. One might interpret such a round-about manner of transmission as evidence that the king was sometimes quite out of the prophetic-information loop!
I grant that there is a prima facie reasonableness to the view that prophecies
were a kind of state secret, especially given the close association prophecy had to
kingship and thus Herrschaftswissen.40 But as we have seen, there is no solid evidence to support the idea that prophetic oracles were considered secret
knowledge in need of guarding from unauthorized hearing (at the time of initial
pronouncement) or reading (in written copies), as were, for example, the learned
corpora of the scribal scholars, who practiced exorcism, extispicy, celestial divination, lamentation, and medicine.41 Moreover, none of the Neo-Assyrian archived
prophecies (in SAA 9) bears the Geheimwissen colophon, as is the case with other
divinatory texts belonging to the secret scholarly corpora.42
One might object, at this point, with some warrant that I am comparing ad hoc
oracular reports to highly developed learned corpora transmitted for generations
among practitioners of the other divinatory crafts, especially extispicy and celestial divination. So one might ask me, Are you asking too much from the wrong
genre? Are you comparing apples and oranges? I am comparing different genres,
but I do not think this means I am asking too much of them.
We are missing proper comparanda for prophecy and other divinatory techniques (i.e., extispicy and celestial divination) on one level of comparison, the
corpus level. Prophecy differed from the other forms of divination in that it was
highly intuitive. It did not develop a learned corpus that might have been guarded
or kept secret because it did not need one. Surely this is significant (see below).
But even when we compare the reported/recorded prophecies to the more
comparable written reports of haruspices and celestial diviners, by which they
communicated their ad hoc divinatory results to the king, we still see a difference
between prophecy and these other forms of divination. From the Mari letters, for
40
For this point, which hardly needs support, see, e.g., Martti Nissinen, Biblical Prophecy from a Near Eastern Perspective, especially 44549; Pongratz-Leisten, Herrschaftswissen
in Mesopotamien, 4795; and her treatment in When the Gods Are Speaking: Toward Defining
the Interface between Polytheism and Monotheism in Propheten in Mari, Assyrien und Israel
(ed. M. Kckert and M. Nissinen; FRLANT 201; Gttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2003),
132-68, 16062.
41
42
ALAN LENZI
77
example, we know that extispicy and the reports that resulted were not open to
just anyone; rather, access to this information was restricted to specific personnel.43 Also, the written extispicy reports that we have from the Neo-Assyrian times
look like official internal memoranda. They follow a standard form and include the
diviners and the reporters names, both of whom worked for the king.44 The same
is true of the astrological reports in SAA 8. These come from the kings scholars,
men who were in rather frequent contact with him. All of this is quite different
from the way many of the prophecies were reported. As stated above, the prophecies were often reported by a royal family member or official in letters, which often included any number of other topics. The prophets themselves, it seems, did
not have easy access to the king like the more scholarly diviners.45 Furthermore, in
contrast to the occasional public or semi-open promulgation of prophetic messages, we have an astrological report (SAA 8 338: 7rev. 4) in which a celestial diviner
named Aaredu admonishes the king that
7. []up-ar-ru-ti i-na KI.LAM
r1. ul i-em-mi EN LUGAL.ME
r2. UD-mu pa-ni- ma-ru
r3. re--a li-i-ma lu-up-ru-us-ma
r4. a-na LUGAL be-l-ia lu-uq-bi
The scribal art [which here refers to celestial divination] should not be heard in
the market place. Let the lord of kings summon me on a day agreeable to him and
I will investigate and speak to the king, my lord.46
The same words also occur in another report written by Aaredu, SAA 8 342: 7rev.
2 (broken context). The presence of this statement in two different reports
(though by the same diviner) suggests the sentiment is not an isolated thought but
perhaps a common saying or a common assumption among celestial diviners: their
professional concerns are not public fare.47 Thus, the reporting of prophecy and
the reporting of the results of more technical forms of divination differed in a
manner that supports the above generalizations with regard to the attachment of
secrecyor rather, its lack of attachmentto prophecy.

See SAA 4 279354 for the extispicy reports from the reign of Assurbanipal.
45
The scholars had a different relationship to the king than the various kinds of prophets. For example, SAA 10 7: 614 describes scholars entering into a treaty with the king: The
scribes, the haruspices, the exorcists, the physicians and the augurs staying in the palace
and living in the city will enter the treaty on the 16th of Nisan (I). We never read about
prophets affirming their loyalty in this manner.
46
The translation follows Hungers in SAA 8 (p. 194). Context leaves little doubt that
Aaredu is talking about the results of celestial divination here and not the scribal art abstractly when he uses the word uparrtu.
47
See likewise Lenzi, Secrecy and the Gods, 102103.
43
44
78
ANCIENT JUDEAN/ISRAELITE PROPHECY VS. BIBLICAL PROPHECY

IN LIGHT OF ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN EVIDENCE
The results of recent work comparing ancient Near Eastern prophecy and
prophetic texts with the biblical prophetic materials have highlighted several important issues that I briefly present here as further background before turning to
the issues of secrecy, prophecy, and revealed knowledge pertaining to ritual in the
Bible. It should be noted that the following statements are presented as results of
scholarship rather than arguments for positions. Each builds upon the previous.
First, a distinction between prophets/prophetic oracles in historical space and
time and the scribal, literary presentation of prophets/prophetic materials in the
historiographical and prophetic books of the Hebrew Bible is essential. In light of a
century and a half of critical biblical scholarship, this hardly needs justification;
but the distinction is not always clearly maintained in comparative treatments.48
With Martti Nissinen, I call the former ancient Hebrew prophecy and refer to the
latter as biblical prophecy.49
Second, ancient Hebrew prophets and prophecies, as scholars have recently
reconstructed them in light of comparative evidence, are remarkably similar to
what we see in the ancient Near East.50 There are of course some differences (e.g.,
the ancient Hebrew prophets seem to have had access to the king much more
readily than prophets in Mesopotamia did).51 But by and large, the ancient Hebrew
prophets were part of the Herrschaftswissen apparatus as were their colleagues in
the East.
Third, the biblical prophetic books, the most important fraction of biblical
prophecy for the present purpose, are a scribal product that underwent a long
and complex editorial history, unlike all other ancient Near Eastern prophetic
texts, that extended into the Persian and Hellenistic periods (and perhaps be-
48
See note 2 above for my earlier difficulty in this regard.

See note 52 below. Although the categories seem clean and neat, there are a plethora
of issues that can be raised that resist simple answers. See Ehud Ben Zvis reflections on the
matter from the perspective of orality and writtenness in his essay, Introduction: Writings,
Speeches, and the Prophetic BooksSetting an Agenda, in Writings and Speech in Israelite and
Ancient Near Eastern Prophecy, 129.
50
See, e.g., Nissinen, Biblical Prophecy from a Near Eastern Perspective, 45051; the
important, recent comparative study of de Jong, Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets,
35256 (which presents the summary of his results); and his Biblical ProphecyA Scribal
Enterprise: The Old Testament Prophecy of Unconditional Judgement considered as a Literary Phenomenon, VT 61 (2011): 3970, especially 5153 for the present point.
51
The prophets access to the king was probably comparable to what we know about
the Mesopotamian scholars access. See, e.g., Nissinen, Biblical Prophecy from a Near Eastern Perspective, 451; de Jong, Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets, 355; and Jack
Sasson, About Mari and the Bible, RA 92 (1989): 97-123, 11819. Other differences between
ancient Mesopotamian and biblical prophecy will be presented below.
49
ALAN LENZI
79
yond).52 Since understanding the literary presentation of the prophets in the Hebrew Bible and its relationship to secrecy lies at the heart of the present study, we
might expect that this unique literary history will loom large in our understanding
of any other elements in the biblical prophets that we might deem distinctive.
Fourth, as several scholars have noted, biblical prophecy contains far and
away much more criticism of king and society than other ancient Near Eastern
prophetic sources.53 This criticism, however, is not only a quantitative matter; it is
also a qualitative one, for unlike any other ancient Near Eastern prophetic text, the
biblical prophetic books depict prophets announcing the deitys radical and total
rejection of king and people. As de Jong states it, [a]s far as we can see now, no
prophet in the ancient Near East ever announced the unconditional divine repudiation of his own society.54
And fifth, this radical repudiation of the prophets is an artifact of the postmonarchical editing of the prophetic books.55 As de Jongs summary captures the
idea well, it is worth citing at length:
Commissioned to be Yahwehs mouthpieces of unconditional and total destruction, they stand outside the system; they do not belong to the prophets and
52
Nissinen has repeatedly noted the connection between the long editorial history of
the prophetic books and the importance of distinguishing ancient Hebrew prophecy from
biblical prophecy. See, e.g., his What is Prophecy? An Ancient Near Eastern Perspective,
in Inspired Speech: Prophecy in the Ancient Near East: Essays in Honor of Herbert B. Huffmon (ed. J.
Kaltner and L. Stulman; JSOTSup 378; London/New York: T & T Clark, 2004), 17-37, 2931 and
The Historical Dilemma of Biblical Prophetic Studies, in Prophecy in the Book of Jeremiah (ed.
H. M. Barstad and R. G. Kratz; BZAW 388; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2009), 10320. A representative
statement: The Hebrew Bible . . . is a canonical composition sui generis in the ancient Near
East, the result of the editorial history of several centuries and, hence, temporally distant
from the prophets appearing on its lines. The Hebrew Bible not only documents the prophetic phenomenon in [the] Southern Levant but also the emergence and early development of
the concept of prophecy. This fundamental difference of the Hebrew Bible from other Near
Eastern documents of prophecy must be recognized, otherwise we fail to understand what
we are comparing (The Historical Dilemma, 114).
53
See Martti Nissinens important article on prophetic criticism/dissent, Das kritische
Potential in der altorientalischen Prophetie, in Propheten in Mari, Assyrien und Israel (ed. M.
Kckert and M. Nissinen; FRLANT 201; Gttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2003), 1-33, 31
32, with similar comments in his Biblical Prophecy from a Near Eastern Perspective, 453.
See also Lenzi, Secrecy and the Gods, 26970.
54
Biblical ProphecyA Scribal Enterprise, 43.
55
See Nissinens connection of the two issues in the works cited in note 53 above. For a
defense of this view in a comparative perspective with references to the secondary literature, see de Jongs programmatic essay, Biblical ProphecyA Scribal Enterprise. As a point
of entry into the issues of producing and reading the prophetic books as written texts in postmonarchic, Achaemenid Yehud, see the remarks in Ben Zvi, Introduction: Writings, Speeches, and the Prophetic BooksSetting an Agenda (cited in n. 49) and the various essays in The
Production of Prophecy: Constructing Prophecy and Prophets in Yehud (ed. D. Edelman and E. Ben
Zvi; BibleWorld; London: Equinox, 2009).
80

priests that are part of the system. They are not diviners pro status quo, but isolated figures, contra society, ordered to speak the word of Yahweh. They do not
speak for their contemporaries, but instead for future generations. This portrayal
is part of the scribal, ex eventu explanations in the prophetic books. It informs us of
exilic and post-exilic thought, not about prophecy as a socio-historical phenomenon in Israel and Judah. As far as the protagonists of the biblical prophetic books
are presented as being totally different from the prophets, priests, and diviners,
i.e. the whole range of divination, they are to be understood as ex eventu images.
The ex eventu imagery is part of the explanation of the disastrous events of the
downfall of the Israelite and the Judean states as being due to divine anger, a
commonplace explanatory motif in the ancient Near Eastern world.56
These perspectives represent my point of departure for the ideas developed

below.
THE TRANSFORMATION OF PROPHECY IN RESPONSE TO EMPIRE

AND THE OPENNESS OF REVEALED KNOWLEDGE PERTAINING TO RITUAL
As I have shown in the second section of this study, Mesopotamian prophetic
revelations were secret in origin (i.e., they were from the divine realm, generally
inaccessible to humans) but were not treated as such during and after their initial
revelation (i.e., pronouncement, oral conveyance, and textual preservation). This
is precisely what I concluded about biblical prophecy in my earlier work.57 If prophetic oracles were not kept secret in Mesopotamia after their revelation, then the
problem of explaining the distinctively open communication of prophetic oracles
in the biblical corpus evaporates and my explanation based on Holladays model of
the imperial messenger (which is problematic on other grounds in light of contemporary comparative prophetic studies58) is unnecessary. Thus, the specific idea
Biblical ProphecyA Scribal Enterprise, 6667.
Lenzi, Secrecy and the Gods, 266.
58
Holladays specific argument for the broad audience of biblical prophetic oracles,
rooted as it is in Neo-Assyrian political policy, is problematic for at least three reasons. First,
Holladay was working at the level of the historical eighth-century prophets when our approach to the prophets should be first and foremost a literary one. Holladays specific explanation therefore may be too early to explain a feature we know only in the biblical prophetic
literature. Second, biblical prophecy (as literature) is not unique in addressing prophecies to
the people in general. Even though our sources attesting such addressees are rather few,
prophecies from the broader ancient Near East were also addressed to the people at times.
Thus, Holladays question is ill-posed. The question is not so much, Why do the biblical prophetic books (not the historical prophets, as he originally framed it) address the people?
Rather, the question is, In light of the fact that such is rare in other ancient Near Eastern
prophetic sources, why is it the norm in the Bible? Third, Holladay was working with a historical reconstruction, a prophet addressing his entire community and announcing total
destruction, that comparative work has made historically unlikely. There is no parallel for
this kind of behavior among ancient Near Eastern prophets living under an indigenous king.
56
57
ALAN LENZI
81
related to prophecy and empire that I used previously for explaining the distinctively open treatment of revealed knowledge about ritual does not work. Yet the
question remains: Why is revealed knowledge about ritual in the Hebrew Bible
open to all without any clear sign of restriction or secrecy attached to it? This is
quite different from the guarded and restricted ritual and divinatory corpora of
the Assyrian and Babylonian scholars who served the king. Since each biblical ritual corpus is revealed to a person presented as a prophet (Moses and Ezekiel), the
answer to this question must still be related to the issue of prophecy. In the following I posit a two-prong explanation for the open treatment of revealed knowledge
pertaining to ritual in the Bible. One prong is rooted in a general notion about
prophecy in the ancient Near East; the other, in the specific transformation of
prophecy (turning it into biblical prophecy) that occurred during the several
centuries of successive imperial presence in the Levantthe very same centuries
that witnessed the production of the Bible itself.
We begin first with a generality about prophecy. The absence of secrecy with
regard to the treatment of prophecies in ancient Mesopotamia may support what
has already been recognized about prophecy in general vis--vis the Mesopotamian political authorities, namely, that prophecy was difficult to control.59 Even
though our documentation indicates that prophecy served the king, we have no
codified rules, outside of the Succession Treatys stipulations (SAA 2 6 10) against
treasonous prophecy,60 about its proper exercise. We have no indication that
prophets received an indoctrinating education or training, as did the Neo-Assyrian
scribal scholars of the court.61 In principle, there was no limit on the topics that a
prophet could address, and prophecies could be spoken at almost any time, almost
Comparative work would suggest that biblical prophetic materials are better explained as
part of a re-orientation of the prophetic materials to a post-monarchical situation in which
total destruction is explained ex eventu in terms of divine wrath.
59
See Pongratz-Leisten, Herrschaftswissen in Mesopotamien, 9495 for this point more
broadly considered.
60
For a discussion of this section of the treaty and its implications for prophetic dissent,
see Nissinen, References to Prophecy in Neo-Assyrian Sources, 15662 and his earlier work
Falsche Prophetie in neuassyrischer und deuteronomistischer Darstellung, in Das Deuteronomium und seine Querbeziehungen (ed. T. Veijola; Schriften der Finnischen Exegetischen
Gesellschaft 62; Helsinki: Finnische Exegetische Gesellschaft; Gttingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht, 1996), 17295, which is available in English in an abridged version as Prophecy
Against the King in Neo-Assyrian Sources, in Lasset uns Brcken bauen. . .: Collected Communications to the XVth Congress of the International Organization for the Study of the Old Testament,
Cambridge 1995 (ed. K.-D. Schunck and M. Augustin; BEATAJ 42; Frankfurt am Main: Lang,
1998), 15770.
61
Certain literary features in the prophetic evidence have moved some to speak of the
intellectual status of the prophets (see, e.g., Pongratz-Leisten, Herrschaftswissen in Mesopotamien, 73). Still, we have no evidence of the prophets formal educational curriculum. Further,
given the rigors of scholarly education, it is unlikely the prophets were expert scribes. They
could have easily acquired some knowledge of literature by hearing texts read aloud (see
Nissinen, Spoken, Written, Quoted, and Invented, 247).
82
anywhere, by almost anyone:62 a professional intermediary attached to the court, a

cultic official in the temple, or the occasional person on the street at the city gate
represented quite sparsely in our written record.63 Finally, and importantly, there
was no guarantee that the message would always be favorable to the king or coincide with his plans.64 As many have pointed out before, mostly pro-royal prophecies from various intermediaries have been preserved in excavated (royal) archives. This no doubt accounts for our limited data about several of the above
points.65 But there is enough extant evidence to warrant the conclusion that authorities did not always easily control the prophets, whether institutionallyaffiliated or not.66 Of course, the idea that prophecy is difficult to control is as
common in the Bibles depiction of it as it is probably exaggerated. Examples hardly need be given.67 The ancient Mesopotamian sources provide historical data that
clearly show ancient Near Eastern prophecys potential to address the public, and
to do so in a way that did not always support central authorities.68 I think this is an
62
I do not want to be understood to be affirming the ubiquity of lone prophetic dissidents, wandering around without any institutional support. Quite to the contrary! Such a
view has overly influenced biblical scholars. The norm throughout the ancient Near East,
including ancient Judah and Israel, would have been institutionally-affiliated prophets. See
Nissinen, What is Prophecy? An Ancient Near Eastern Perspective, 23. Although the lone
dissident, often a lay-prophet, seems to have been a rarity, we should not entirely ignore
this critical potential. I think this potential (among other things) lies at the root of what
would eventually become biblical prophecy.
63
For a recent discussion with extensive references to the secondary literature of the
sociological positions and institutional relationships, if any, of the pil(t)um, ma/u(m), and
raggimu/raggintu, assinnu, and qammatum, see Stkl, Prophecy in the Ancient Near East, 3969
(Old Babylonian), 111127 (Neo-Assyrian). For examples of prophecies from a person on the
street see, ARM 26 210, SAA 10 24, and SAA 16 59.
64
On this last point, see, e.g., Pongratz-Leisten, Herrschaftswissen in Mesopotamien, 8892,
who cites both SAA 16 59 and SAA 10 24 as evidence. See also de Jongs discussion of the role
of Isaiah in Hezekiahs court against the backdrop of ancient Near Eastern prophecy. While
discussing Isaiah 28:7b10, he states [t]here are no examples of comparable controversies
among prophets from Mari and Assyria, but it is clear that prophetic oracles could play a
role in political advice that competed with opposite views, citing SAA 16 59 and ARM 26 199
for support (Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets, 349, and n.334). Both of these texts
are briefly discussed along with several other texts in Nissinen, Das kritische Potential in
der altorientalischen Prophetie.
65
See my previous discussion in Secrecy and the Gods, 26970.
66
I do not mean to imply that the other divinatory professions were always and easily
manipulated by the king.
67
See Nissinens comparative thoughts on the Succession Treaty of Esarhaddon and the
measures against false prophecy in Deut 13 in his essay Falsche Prophetie in neuassyrischer
und deuteronomistischer Darstellung, cited in note 60 above.
68
In other words, comparative data indicates that the Hebrew Bibles post-monarchical
depiction of the prophets is probably exaggerated, but this depiction is still rooted to some
degree in historical reality.
ALAN LENZI
83
important element in understanding the transformation of prophecy described

below.
Building on this, we must also take into consideration the fact that Judah and
Israel existed under a continuous foreign imperial occupation from the late eighth
century on into the late Hellenistic period, which coincides with the time of the
Bibles composition and editing. During these centuries, new genres of literature
were introduced and old ones re-oriented. To understand this process, I draw on
the work of Seth Sanders,69 who has effectively described a transformation in the
writing of biblical history, law, and prophecy involving a shift in horizons, which
he traces from West Semitic inscriptions to biblical texts. This shift in horizons,
as he calls it, involves a process of texts turning away from the king and royal
household as protagonists toward the people in light of a new imperial situation.70
According to Sanders, when West Semitic kings came in contact with the eastern
imperial powers beginning in the mid-eighth century, the kings adopted some of
their monumental royal genres and expressed them in local vernacular languages
(e.g., the Moabite stone) in an attempt to identify this writing with the people
whose language it was and to domesticate West Semitic political culture by materializing and monumentalizing its language.71 In other words, the petty West
Semitic kings adopted the signs and symbols of empire for themselves to buttress
their local hegemony. But, Sanders continues, local media expertswriters and
craftspeopleseemed to take the king at his word: some of the new vernaculars
actually became identified with the people they were claimed to represent.72 And
thus occurred a transformation of genres and a shift in horizons that began in
West Semitic inscriptions and found its most important representation in the historiographical, legal, and prophetic texts of the Hebrew Bible. As Sanders observes:
At root, the late Iron Age shift in horizons is a shift in these genres participants:
For whom does the text speak? To whom is it addressed? And who are its protagonists? In each case we see evidence of the genre being reshaped under particular
political conditions to meet the assumptions of a new audience [namely, the people rather than the kingACL]. The newly written discourses . . . address a West
69
Seth Sanders, The Invention of Hebrew (Urbana/Chicago: University of Illinois Press,
2009). The brief summary here, which draws on Sanders conclusions, cannot do justice to
his entire argument, perhaps the most controversial part of which is his idea of the distinctive West Semitic political culture of kinship and collective assemblies (that existed prior to
imperial incursions from the East) in which communal decisions were made. These distinctive political roots, he argues, are the underlying factor for the transformations of (what we
now see as familiar) biblical genres that he describes, including the shift from king to people
as protagonists, under the influence of the dominant imperial cultures.
70
One will note the similarity with the observation that Holladay presented as his opening problematic: a shift in prophetic address from king to people. Holladay was not incorrect
to look to the new imperial context for answers, though his specific proposal is not sufficiently compelling.
71
Sanders, Invention of Hebrew, 158.
72
84

Semitic culture of kinship and political communication transformed by, and transforming, a historical context of imperialism.73
The transformation of prophecy, as Sanders recognizes, is the most important

of these generic transformations in the Bible because it frames both law and history.
Rather than assuming that the king had the right to speak for a people, we see a
different expectation: that the ideal interlocutor for a people is a prophet. Biblical
law is handed down by a prophet, and biblical history is framed as the workingout of prophecy. It is as prophecy above all that biblical genres of discourse reflect
on, and empower, their own mediation.74
Without necessarily denying Sanders point about early West Semitic political
culture as an important factor, I suggest that prophecy occupied this foundational
role because it always had the potential to address large audiences openly in the
ancient Near East (though rarely in practice, according to our sources) and to do so
in a manner that did not necessarily support the central (imperial) powers.75 This
latent potential in prophecy made it best suited to the biblical scribes transformative task and desire for a shift in horizon (and addressee). In the process of developing this latent potential in ancient Near Eastern prophecy, the biblical scribes
transformed what was once ancient Hebrew prophecy into what we now read as
biblical prophecy directed to the people. The application of this view of prophecy
to the mediation of the biblical corpora pertaining to ritual explains the open
communication of that material as presented in the biblical text. As I concluded
before, the biblical ritual texts, unlike those in Mesopotamia, in keeping with
the open promulgation of prophetic oracles, were potentially open to all.76
Through this assertion of prophetic mediation, the scribes authorized their corpora as divine knowledge and gave what was once the presumed possession of priests
(the ritual corpora) the potential to become the possession of any reader/hearer.
In explaining the application of the biblical view of prophecy to the corpora
pertaining to ritual in my previous work, I made the argument that the prophetic
mediation of the revealed ritual corpora of the Hebrew Bible was a scribal mythmaking strategy, the scribes attempt to legitimize their texts (and thus themselves) as authoritative.77 Sanders opposes this view. But his statement in opposition to it also encapsulates well the ideas he presents with regard to the transformation of prophecy, thus I cite it at length. He writes:
75
Sanders himself seems to recognize this. See Sanders, Invention of Hebrew, 165, though
I do not agree with him that prophecy was always formally independent of kingship in its
performance and as writing . . . had always been a state secret.
76
77
73
74
ALAN LENZI
85
The scribal adoption of the prophetic mantle has often been seen as an act of legitimation, the creation, indeed the forgery, of a basis of authority that did not
exist in objective fact. But if we read the biblical discourses of history, law, and
prophecy as inaugurated in the transformation of early Iron Age Assyrian-based
genres of power into late Iron Age West Semitic-based forms of political communication, we can see them differently: not as legitimation or authority-forging but
as taking on a traditional discursive task of summoning and addressing a people.
What has changed in the Iron Age is the political condition of sovereignty: it is no
longer vested in the military power of the assembled kin or the state. Thus the
people are now addressed through the circulation of texts, as a public.78
Rather than contradicting the legitimation view, Sanders perspective, in my opinion, complements and extends it. The negotiation of social authority is always a
reciprocal act between groups. Would-be leaders, for example, present themselves
and their ideas to the people as worthy of authority. That is, they must present
themselves as legitimate bearers of authority. The people, on the other hand, who
we assume are not blind sheep, must decide whether or not to grant the authority
to the seeker of it. If the would-be leader is persuasive, the people will respond to
their summons. We would expect both sides to use traditional resources in this
negotiation process. Thus, a scribes donning of prophetic authority for the purposes of giving persuasive weight to an edited version of a prophetic or ritual corpus (what I called mythmaking) need not necessarily assume duplicitous intentions, as the word forgery would suggest. This may have been part of acceptable
scribal practice.79
CONCLUSION
My conclusions here support my original conclusions in Secrecy and the Gods.
But in forming them I have reassessed and rejected the support I once found in
Holladays Neo-Assyrian messenger model of prophecy, which he believed explained the shift in audience from king to people in the so-called writing prophets.
I previously used Holladays idea to understand the open treatment of prophecies
in the Bible and thereby to explain why prophetically-mediated revealed
knowledge pertaining to ritual in the Bible, in contradistinction to such knowledge
in Mesopotamia, bears no indication of ever having been treated as secret
knowledge. But upon examining the ancient Mesopotamian prophetic texts more
thoroughly in the present study, I find no evidence that prophecy was ever treated
as secret knowledge in ancient Mesopotamia despite the fact, as in the Bible, it was
78

For thoughts about the possibility of scribal editors and amplifiers identifying with
characters of biblical texts and thereby adopting for themselves a quasi-prophetic status
as they re-arranged and amended the text, see Ben Zvi, Introduction: Writings, Speeches,
and the Prophetic Books, 14.
79
86
considered a divinely revealed secret in terms of its origin. Because prophetic oracles were not kept secret in ancient Mesopotamia after their revelation, the problem of explaining the distinctively open communication of prophetic oracles in the
biblical corpus disappeared, and my explanation based on Holladays model became unnecessary. But the question remained as to why the Bibles revealed
knowledge pertaining to ritual was not treated as secret knowledge like it was in
Mesopotamia. The answer formulated here is based on a richer understanding of
prophecy, rooted in both comparative study of prophetic texts (and its potential
for public dissent) and recent thinking about the distinctive political culture of
ancient Judah/Israel (and its development in the shadow of empire), and thus the
scribes responsible for the Bible. My conclusion is differently framed but fundamentally the same as what I argued for earlier: prophecy authorized the mediators
of revealed knowledge pertaining to ritual and formed the basis for its open publication to the people.
Prophecy and empire, or better, prophecy under empire, became an important catalyst in the production of biblical literature, with its strong theological
advocacy for an alternative covenant with their divine (rather than their human)
imperial lord. Secrecy may insulate a central authoritys power from gainsayers or
create an empowering mystique around a marginal group. In the Bible, as I concluded before, secrecy only serves an authorizing function for divine secret
knowledge (whether prophetic or ritual); the knowledge itself is delivered openly,
available to all who would hear it. This pervasive biblical sentiment is perhaps best
expressed in the words of Ps 25:14, with its strong parallelism between Yahwehs
( secret counsel) and his covenant:80
The secret counsel ( )of Yahweh belongs to those who fear him,
His covenant, in order to make them (i.e., those who fear him) know.
80
For my previous statement about this verse, see Lenzi, Secrecy and the Gods, 26566.
5
Chaoskampf against Empire: YHWHs Battle against
Gog (Ezekiel 3839) as Resistance Literature
C. A. Strine
INTRODUCTION
The tale of YHWHs conflict with Gog of Magog in Ezekiel 3839 has long perplexed scholars. Commentators remain at odds about the identity of Gog himself
perhaps more than any other question. Stated simply, for whom or what does that
enigmatic figure stand as a cipher? Modern identifications have been especially
speculative, ranging from the Ottoman Turks (Martin Luthers proposal) to Napoleon (a popular option in 19th century Britain) to Russia (a view that was very
prominent in some American circles during the cold war and persists even until
this day).1
In order to address this question, it is sensible to follow the recent trend in
Ezekiel studies that situates Ezekiel 3839 within its larger context, whether that
be construed as the preceding oracles (Ezekiel 3437), the following temple vision
(Ezekiel 4048), or as a middle section of a larger narrative that includes all three
parts. A number of recent studies have explored the complex relationship between
the Greek and Hebrew texts of Ezekiel, with particular attention to the substantial
differences between Papyrus 967 (hereafter P967) and the MT around and within
these chapters.2 That work is complemented by studies concentrating on how Eze1
See Andrew Mein, The Armies of Gog, the Merchants of Tarshish, and the British Empire, in In the Name of God: The Bible in Colonial Discourse of Empire (ed. C. L. Crouch and Jonathan Stkl; BibIntSup 126; Leiden: Brill, 2013), 13350.
2
Ashley S. Crane, Israels Restoration: A Textual-Comparative Exploration of Ezekiel 3639
(VTSup 122; Leiden: Brill, 2008); Ingrid E. Lilly, Two Books of Ezekiel: Papyrus 967 and the Masoretic Text as Variant Literary Editions (VTSup 150; Leiden: Brill, 2012).
87
88
kiel 3839 relates to other canonical texts. For instance, Anja Klein and William
Tooman have argued in related but different ways that Ezekiel 3839 comprises an
interpretation of earlier texts within Ezekiel (Kleins focus) and beyond it (Toomans primary contribution).3
Tooman concludes on this basis that Ezekiel 3839 is a product of the Hellenistic period that seeks to integrate Ezekiel with other texts that it viewed as authoritative.4 He maintains that the reuse of antecedent Scripture is key to its purpose
and meaning,5 which is to supplement Ezekiel in an effort to harmonize the book
with a wider body of traditional religious literature, literature found in todays
canon within the Torah, Prophets, and Psalms.6 Toomans argument relies upon
identifying the reuse of locutions from other canonical texts in Ezekiel 3839.
Though there are a number of places one can legitimately differ with Tooman, and
on that basis find themselves at odds with his conclusion about the date and provenance of Ezekiel 3839,7 he demonstrates conclusively that understanding the Gog
of Magog oracle requires the interpreter to apprehend its allusions to other texts.
3
Anja Klein, Schriftauslegung im Ezechielbuch: redaktionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zu Ez
3439 (BZAW 391; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2008); William A. Tooman, Gog of Magog: Reuse of Scripture
and Compositional Technique in Ezekiel 3839 (FAT II/52; Tbingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011).
4
Tooman, Gog of Magog, 274.
5
6
7
Not only do I find several of the connections that Tooman identifies problematic (e.g.,
Num 24), those links he deems determinative for the date of Ezekiel 3839 are tenuous. Tooman places Ezekiel 3839 in the 4th to 2nd centuries BCE based heavily on connections to Joel
1:6; 2:27, and Isaiah 62:2; 66:19 (p. 271). Tooman himself admits the Joel 1:6 link is remote (p.
98). Joel 2:27 neither includes the key divine title (Holy One) Tooman is examining nor
shares the same syntax as Ezek 39:7. Though Isa 62:2 is similar to Ezek 39:21 (it includes
), neither it nor Isa 52:10 (which he also mentions) uses the same phrase as the Gog
oracles. Finally, Tooman maintains that Isa 66:19 is a source for the groups named in Ezekiel
3839 (Put, Tubal, and Tarshish) and also that it inspires the phrases my glory among the
nations as well as all the nations will see in Ezek 39:21. Each point is questionable: Ezekiel
had access to all the group names from other texts (Gen 10 and elsewhere in Ezekiel), so this
cannot be determinative of a date after Third Isaiah; in Ezek 39:21 YHWH puts (
) YHWHs
own glory amongst all the nations and they see ( ) his judgments, whereas in Isa 66:19 the
nations (lacking ) declare () YHWHs glory. To be sure, Tooman is justified to see similarities between Ezek 39:21 and Isa 66:19, but there is insufficient evidence to conclude the direction of dependance necessary for dating the Gog oracles later than Third Isaiah.
Toomans other basis for dating the Gog oracles is the comparative evidence that GO is
a second temple text (p. 271). Although he does mention Dan 9 (immediately dismissing it
from the discussion, p. 200, n. 6), he does not address either Ezekiel 20 or Neh 9both of
which parallel Ezekiel 3839s indebtedness to a wide variety of earlier texts, a propensity to
adopt and adapt their locutions (on which, see Risa Levitt Kohn, A New Heart and a New Soul
[JSOTSup 358; London: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002] and Mark J. Boda, Praying the Tradition:
The Origin and Use of Tradition in Nehemiah 9 [BZAW 277; Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1999]), and
attempts to fill perceived gaps in the sources (e.g. Ezek 20:23-25). If these texts also qualify
C. A. STRINE
89
As an aside in his argument, Tooman rejects the notion that Ezekiel 3839 is
an [oracle against a foreign nation], perhaps even a coded indictment of Bablyon.8 For Tooman, that view rests upon three faulty premises. First, such arguments deny that YHWHs battle with Gog should be classified as apocalyptic. Those
same commentators assume there is a connection between apocalyptic and eschatology observes Tooman, so that they deduce that the incongruities between Ezekiel 3839 and other so-called apocalyptic texts exclude the possibility that the
Gog oracle describes events in a far off future. Finally, advocates of the oracles
against the nation interpretation maintain that a non-apocalyptic, noneschatological Ezekiel 3839 must deal with events and figures from the sixth century BCE, requiring that a historical, sixth-century political enemy of Judah known
to Ezekiel and the Judahites in Babylonia lies behind Gog and his armies.
Tooman is correct to question these premises. Of course a prophetic text
speaks to its age, but identifying the age of the text only circumscribes the
possibilities for its referent and leaves numerous options open. Tooman is also
correct to take exception with classifying Ezekiel 3839 as a foreign nation oracle.
But there are at least two other objections that he does not mention. First, while
determining whether the text is apocalyptic and/or eschatological is difficult, resolving the issue is irrelevant; Anathea Portier-Young has shown that apocalyptic
literature can be used to resist a real, historical empire just like other genres.9 Indeed, her work will be an important guide in reassessing Ezekiel 3839 in due
course. Second, Ezekiel 3839 is eschatological, but only insofar as John Barton
defines that term as the view that history (national, international, or even cosmic) has an end or goal which will one day arrive, and the path towards which
passes through various distinct phases or epochs.10 It is impossible to say if Ezekiel 3839 envisions its cataclysmic events as imminent or distant because all indications of timeframe within it are imprecise at best.
Conceding Toomans points and adding these others do not preclude Ezekiel
3839 from being a coded indictment of Babylon; it means that different premises
are needed to substantiate that view. I shall argue in this essay that Ezekiel 3839 is
a coded indictment of Babylon on three different premises. First, the sixth-century
as thematic pastiche, and there are numerous reasons to think they do, then this evidence
that a similar strategy to that employed in Ezekiel 3839 was already prevalent during the 5th
and perhaps even 6th centuries BCE challenges Toomans second argument for the Hellenistic
date of Ezekiel 3839.
Tooman has justifiably opened a debate about the provenance of the Gog oracles in
view of its allusions to other textsincluding other texts in Ezekielbut he has not demonstrated conclusively that Ezekiel 3839 dates to the 4th century BCE or later.
8
Tooman, Gog of Magog, 133; Klein, Schriftauslegung, 115.
9
Anathea Portier-Young, Apocalypse against Empire: Theologies of Resistance in Early Judaism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011).
10
John Barton, Oracles of God: Perceptions of Ancient Prophecy in Israel after the Exile (London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 1986), 218.
90
Judahite exiles, just like numerous other subaltern communities across history,
resist their overlords with disguised messages that are difficult to detect and intentionally vague even when recognized.11 Second, acknowledging the importance
of reading Ezekiel 3839 as an integral part of a larger whole, discerning Gogs
identity is only possible when the oracles about him and his hordes are read in
conjunction with the material that follows in Ezekiel 4048. Third, building on
Toomans work, Gogs identity only comes into focus when one accounts for the
way Ezekiel 3839 alludes to other texts inside and outside the Hebrew Bible in its
description of him. To state this positively, Ezekiel 3839 is part of the concluding
section of the book that intends to resist Neo-Babylonian ideology; but, because of
the asymmetric power structure and the threat of a punitive response by the dominant group, it must do so in a veiled manner. Ezekiel 3848 draws on the form and
content of the Chaoskampf tradition in order to craft a narrative in which YHWH is
portrayed as the victorious deity who defeats chaos, which is embodied in another
deity. Instead of a dragon, a sea monster, or a god controlling death, Ezekiel 3839
personifies chaos in Babylons patron deity, Marduk. Asserted openly, that seditious message is sure to provoke punishment, so it is advanced in polysemous language, ambiguous images, and through the narrative substructure of Ezekiel 3848.
These chapters constitute a counterdiscourse meant to encourage its audience to
resist Babylonian control and to trust patiently in YHWHs promise to deliver them.
My argument proceeds in three stages. First, I discuss the precedent for the
presence of a disguised transcript of resistance against the Babylonian empire in
Ezekiel. Second, I present evidence that Gog is a foreign deity rather than a foreign
human figure. Third, I compare the narrative structure and cosmic imagery of Ezekiel 3839 with those of other Chaoskmpfe, highlighting evidence that indicates
En-ma eli and Marduk are the models for the plot of Ezekiel 3848 and Gog, respectively.
PRECEDENT FOR THIS ARGUMENT

To begin, it is sensible to provide a rationale for reading Ezekiel 3839 as an
intentionally ambiguous text intended to resist the Neo-Babylonian empire. The
11
For arguments supporting a sixth century, Babylonian provenance for a large majority of the text in Ezekiel see, inter alia, R. E. Clements, The Chronology of Redaction in Ezek
124, in Ezekiel and His Book: Textual and Literary Criticism and their Interrelation (ed. J. Lust;
BETL 74; Leuven: Peeters, 1986), 28394, and the summary discussions in Paul M. Joyce, Ezekiel: A Commentary (LHBOTS 482; London: T & T Clark, 2007), 316, and C. A. Strine, Sworn Enemies: The Divine Oath, the Book of Ezekiel, and the Polemics of Exile (BZAW 436; Berlin: de Gruyter,
2013) 1821. This model, though popular, is not a consensus; Karl-Friedrich Pohlmann, Der
Prophet Hesekiel/Ezechiel (2 vols; ATD 22; Gttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 19962001),
represents well the arguments for a long development of the book occurring primarily during the Persian period.
C. A. STRINE
91
precedent follows from two features of Ezekiel: its indubitable links to other ancient Near Eastern texts and evidence that the book resists Babylonian ideology in
a similar fashion elsewhere.
It is hard to overstate the importance of reading Ezekiel against the backdrop
of other ancient Near Eastern texts. For instance, Daniel Bodi illuminated YHWHs
departure from the Jerusalem temple by demonstrating its similarity to the Mesopotamian poem Erra and Ium.12 Daniel Block expanded these insights to show that
Ezekiel resembles other Mesopotamian accounts of divine abandonment.13 More
recently, John Kutsko observed that Ezekiel is indebted to Assyrian and Babylonian
practices of cult image spoliation and refurbishment14 and Margaret Odells commentary discusses how the book carefully attends to Assyrian and Babylonian influence, showing that it uses these cultural resources which were voluntarily
adopted by the Judahite elite for various purposes.15 Closest to the present concerns, Paul Fitzpatrick establishes numerous connections between Ezekiel 3839
and the Chaoskampf myths from across the ancient Near East.16
Supporting these insights, there is growing evidence the author(s) of Ezekiel
knew at least some of the cuneiform texts that formed the core of Mesopotamian
scribal training. Abraham Winitzer, for example, demonstrates similarities between Babylonian scribal techniques and Ezekiels sign action of lying on his left
and right side (Ezek 4:46). Elsewhere, Winitzer shows that Gilgame is important
background for Ezekiel 28. It is notable that he identifies this connection both
through the reuse of particular words but also by observing that Ezekiel knew
Gilgame and applied its storyline allegorically in the composition of his oracles.17
This is a point to which I shall return later.
12
Daniel Bodi, The Book of Ezekiel and the Poem of Erra (OBO 104; Gttingen: Vandenhoeck
& Ruprecht, 1991). For an English translation of the poem see Benjamin R. Foster, Before the
Muses: An Anthology of Akkadian Literature (3d ed.; Bethesda: CDL Press, 2005), 880911 and
Stephanie Dalley (COS 1.113:40416).
13
Daniel I. Block, Gods of the Nations: Studies in Ancient Near Eastern National Theology (2d
ed.; ETS Studies; Grand Rapids: Baker Academic; Leicester: Apollos, 2000). See also Donna Lee
Petter, The Book of Ezekiel: Patterned After a Mesopotamian City Lament? (Ph.D. diss.,
University of Toronto, 2009).
14
John F. Kutsko, Between Heaven and Earth: Divine Presence and Absence in the Book of Ezekiel (Biblical and Judaic Studies from the University of California, San Diego 7; Winona Lake:
Eisenbrauns, 2000); see also idem., Ezekiels Anthropology and Its Ethical Implications, in
The Book of Ezekiel: Theological and Anthropological Perspectives (ed. Margaret S. Odell and John T.
Strong; SBLSymS; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2000), 11941.
15
Margaret S. Odell, Ezekiel (Macon: Smith & Helwys, 2005), 59, esp. 89.
16
Paul E. Fitzpatrick, The Disarmament of God: Ezekiel 3839 in Its Mythic Context (CBQMS 37;
Washington: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 2004).
17
Abraham Winitzer, Assyriology and Jewish Studies in Tel Aviv: Ezekiel among the
Babylonian Literati, in Encounters by the Rivers of Babylon: Scholarly Conversations between Jews,
Iranians and Babylonians in Antiquity (ed. U. Gabbay and and S. Secunda; Tbingen: Mohr Siebeck, forthcoming). Emphasis added. For further evidence that Ezekiel knew such esoteric
92
If it is justifiable to conclude that Ezekiel knows and creatively employs features from such Mesopotamian texts, it remains necessary to show that the book
uses that knowledge for the purpose of resisting imperial power. This is exemplified in Ezekiel 17.18
Ezekiel 17 exhibits a two-fold structure on both the literary and conceptual
level.19 After the opening allegory (17:110), the remainder of the passage (17:11
21) interprets Jerusalems judgment on two levels: vv. 1618 explain that the king
of Babylon carries out the punishment in the human realm while vv. 1921 indicate that YHWH simultaneously accomplishes these deeds in the divine realm
(17:1921). Alongside its structure, the cosmological imagery of Ezekiel 17 makes
the Babylonian king YHWHs earthly agent. Note that YHWH appears as the divine
agent who fights and repels chaos, the complex of themes often called the Chaoskampf. Verse 10 is exemplary: it specifies that the vine representing the Judahite
king will be struck and withered by an east wind. The is a storm element,
a prominent set of divine weapons in the Chaoskampf. Though the east wind is only
mentioned here in Ezekiel 17, the image fits with descriptions of YHWH using a
storm ( ; 38:9), a storm wind (
; 13:11), and even clouds (
; 38:9) elsewhere.20
This east wind strikes a vine planted beside many waters, (;
17:5),21 which is Zedekiah, the Babylonian installed king of Judah, who is sworn to
be a loyal vassal to Babylon (17:6, 1314). The story plays on Zedekiahs role as a
vassal (17:56, 1314): the are the chaos waters manifest in the threatening power of Egypt (cf. Ezekiel 19; 31) so that when Zedekiah turns his allegiance to
the other great eagle Zedekiah aligns himself with the very against which
Mesopotamian texts, see Jonathan Stkl, The of Ezekiel 13 Reconsidered, JBL 132
(2013): 6176.
18
For a detailed treatment of the issue, see Strine, Sworn Enemies, 22843.
19
Moshe Greenberg, Ezekiel 120: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB
22; Garden City: Doubleday, 1983), 31720.
20
These elements are comparable to the sirocco, a hot wind characteristic of the dry
season (cf. A. Fitzgerald, The Lord of the East Wind [CBQMS 34; Washington: Catholic Biblical
Association of America, 2002], 17577). Ezekiel 13 also describes YHWH using storm elements,
namely, a driving rain ( ; 13:11) and great hailstones ( ; 13:13); these are
characteristic of the rainstorms that occur during the wet season. See Fitzgerald, East Wind,
for a detailed discussion of the various storms and storm imagery in the Hebrew Bible.
21
Though scholars consistently interpret in v. 5 as non-adversarialindicative of the positive character of the vines seedbed (Walter Zimmerli, A Commentary on the
Book of the Prophet Ezekiel, Chapters 124 [transl. R. E. Clements; Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1979], 362; Greenberg, Ezekiel 1-20, 310; Daniel I. Block, The Book of Ezekiel: Chapters 124
[NICOT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997], 531; Joyce, Ezekiel, 136), this reading fails both to
account for the point of the allegory and also to recognize that everywhere else in Ezekiel
the image marks its referent as a force of chaos to be resisted. Margaret Odell is correct to
remark that although the appears to be innocuous . . . its use elsewhere suggests
that it has a more sinister connotation (Odell, Ezekiel, 240).
C. A. STRINE
93
he is meant to defend (v. 8).22 Judah and its king no longer serve as a buffer against
Egypt on behalf of Babylon, but transform into the advanced front of the Egyptian
threat. YHWH responds by enlisting the Babylonian king to judge Zedekiah because
the defiant Judahite king is now a force of chaos, not order.
This last point is crucial: the cosmological imagery of Ezekiel 17 implicitly
challenges an ideology with which it disagrees by (re)appropriating those very
same cosmological images. The text re-imagines the way the world is arranged: it
labels Zedekiah as a force of chaos and the Babylonian king a force of order, albeit
under the aegis of YHWH, not Marduk.23 The interpretation of the allegory in vv. 11
24 clarifies this last point. The withering east wind of v. 10 corresponds to YHWHs
net in v. 20 that captures the Judahite king Zedekiah.24 The net is not selected haphazardly, but appears here because it evokes Enma eli. There, Marduk uses it, the
wind, and his bow and arrow in order to kill Tiamat. Enma eli IV 93104 recounts
Marduks battle with Tiamat:
Tiamat and Marduk, sage of the gods, drew close for battle,
They locked in single combat, joining for the fray.
The Lord spread out his net, encircled her,
The ill wind he had held behind him he released in her face.
Tiamat opened her mouth to swallow,
He thrust in the ill wind so she could not close her lips.
The raging winds bloated her belly,
Her insides were stopped up, she gaped her mouth wide.
He shot off the arrow, it broke open her belly,
It cut to her innards, it pierced the heart.
He subdued her and snuffed out her life,
He flung down her carcass, he took his stand upon it.25
22
So, read vv. 78 thus: Behold, there was another great eaglewith great wings and
much plumage. Look, this vine bent its roots toward him and its branches reached out to
him so that he caused it to be nourished. In a good field, by many waters it was planted to
grow branches and to produce fruit to be a noble vine. Verses 910 are the rhetorical question that make this clear: can it turn from its assigned role thus and succeed? Of course not.
23
C. L. Crouch and C. A. Strine, YHWHs Battle against Chaos in Ezekiel: The Transformation of Judahite Mythology for a New Situation, JBL 132 (2013): 883-903. See also Jer 25:9;
27:6; 43:10 where Nebuchadnezzar is called servant of YHWH and the discussion of this
language in Konrad Schmid, Nebukadnezars Antritt der Weltherrscheft und der Abbruch
der Davidsdynastie: Innerbiblische Schriftauslegung und universalgeschichtliche Konstruktion im Jeremiabuch, in Die Textualisierung der Religion (ed. Joachim Shaper; Tbingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 2009), 15066, esp. 15963.
24
Block, Ezekiel 124, 53639.
25
See the Epic of Creation in Foster, Before the Muses, 46061, Tablet IV 93104 (cf. Tablet IV 3544). Textual arrangement in four verse stanzas follows that of Philippe Talon, The
Standard Babylonian Creation Myth: Enuma Eli: Introduction, Cuneiform Text, Transliteration, and
Sign List with a Translation and Glossary in French (SAACT 4; Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian Text
94
A net is a common tool, one that has many uses beyond divine combat to be sure.26
Still, its sudden appearance as YHWHs weapon in Ezek 17:20, in a context where
YHWH employs the Bablyonian king as a human servant and defeats enemies depicted as chaos, closely parallels the account of Marduk defeating Tiamat in Enma
eli. It is the combination of these factors, not the appearance of the net alone, that
encourages the conclusion that Ezekiel portrays YHWH in images reminiscent of
Marduk.
Chapter 17 culminates with more evidence that Enma eli IV is part of its
backdrop. In the concluding verse (v. 24) YHWH restores Judah so that all the trees
of the fieldan image of foreign kings as a metonymy for their nations27shall
recognize that I am YHWH: I make low the exalted tree and I make high the lowly
tree . . . I am YHWH: I have spoken and I will act (Ezek 17:24; cf. 21:31). Compare
that statement to Enma eli IV 58:
O Marduk, you are the most important among the great gods,
Your destiny is unrivalled, your command is supreme!
Henceforth your command cannot be changed,
To raise high, to bring low, this shall be your power.28
The cluster of allusions in Ezekiel 17 not just to Enma eli generally but to Tablet
IV in particular reinforces the previous deduction, namely, that this assembly of
images tacitly presents YHWH in Marduks distinctive role. Said another way, Ezekiel 17 replaces Marduk with YHWH as the divine king.29
Corpus Project, 2005), 93. Note as well Tablet VI 8084, where the net is placed with the bow
in the presence of the gods as demonstration of Marduks feat. Thorkild Jacobsen (The Treasures of Darkness: A History of Mesopotamian Religion [New Haven: Yale University Press, 1976],
16791) offers a succinct description of the story and of the role of the net and bow (p. 182).
26
For the various uses of saparru, the term used in Enma eli IV, from ensnaring animals
to meteorological phenomenon, see CAD S, 16163. A similar role is ascribed to the net (CAD
S, 16162, s.v. saparru 1b, 5b) of the gods in their judgment of Assurbanipals enemies,
demonstrating the applicability of this image for Ezekiel 17 (Maximilian Streck, Assurbanipal
und die letzten assyrischen Knige bis zum Untergange Ninevehs [Vorderasiatische Bibliothek 7.2;
Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1916], 37). The image is not limited to deities, as Esarhaddon claims the
concept for himself in one of his inscriptions (Rykle Borger, Die Inschriften Asarhaddons, Knigs
Von Assyrien [AfOB 9; Graz: Im Selbstverlag des Herausgebers, 1956], 58).
Standard Akkadian has three other terms meaning net: pgu, tu, and ukallu. These
terms appear in various contexts from hunting animals (e.g., tu A, CAD /2, 340) to the
oncoming of debilitating drowsiness (e.g., CAD /3, 383), but also feature in descriptions of
capturing enemies. The plurality of roles these terms for net can play is a real factor in considering the likelihood of a link between Ezekiel 17 and Enma eli, but the variation does not
obscure the strong parallel between the two texts.
27
Greenberg, Ezekiel 120, 316; Block, Ezekiel 124, 552.
28
Foster, Before the Muses, 457.
29
Thus, Block is correct to comment, this oracle is . . . about the cosmic sovereignty
and fidelity of Yahweh (Ezekiel 124, 552).
C. A. STRINE
95
This seditious message is conveyed in polysemous language. Ezekiel 17 creates

ambiguity with its image-rich text and through the implicit statement made by its
structure. Upon scrutiny from the dominant group, the subversive message could
be attributed to general knowledge of kingship metaphors and to unintentional
structural parallels. One could argue that the polemical interpretation is accidental, not indicative of subversive intent. It is this possibility of interpreting Ezekiel 17 innocuously that allays the threat of a penal response by the dominant
group. Indeed, one might even claim that Ezekiel 17 portrays the Babylonian king,
Marduks earthly representative, in positive terms while unreservedly condemning the Judahite king for rebellion against Babylon. On that construal Ezekiel 17
agrees with Babylonian rhetoric rather than challenges it.
If this sounds like speaking out of both sides of ones mouth, that is both true
and fundamental to my argument. James C. Scott demonstrates that subaltern
groups are widely characterized as cunning or deceptive as a result of the way in
which their anti-imperial views seep into public statements in the form of disguised expressions.30 Scott describes this as a verbal facility that allows the oppressed to conduct what amounts to a veiled discourse of dignity and selfassertion within the public transcript.31 The modes of concealment are limited
only by the imaginative capacity of subordinates and [i]t is impossible to overestimate the subtlety of this manipulation.32 Ambiguity, in other words, protects
the subjugated voice. It permits subordinate groups to undercut the authorized
cultural norms in such a way that the excluded (and in this case, powerful) audience may grasp the seditious message in the performance but find it difficult to
react because that sedition is clothed in terms that can also lay claim to a perfectly
innocent construction.33
The vulnerability of the Judahite exiles to Babylonian power did not permit
them the luxury of direct confrontation.34 Therefore, to identify anti-imperial
messages in Ezekiel it is imperative to heed Scotts guidance that [i]f we wish to
hear this side of the dialogue we shall have to learn its dialect and codes.35 Ezekiel
17 indicates that allusion to and transformation of Enma eli is one way in which
the book encodes its counterdiscourse.
30
James C. Scott, Domination and the Arts of Resistance: Hidden Transcripts (New Haven:
Yale University Press, 1990).
31
Scott, Domination, 137.
32
33
34
35
96
GOG AS A FOREIGN DEITY

Prior to discussing how Ezekiel 3839 encodes its message of resistance, it is
necessary to discuss a common position, namely, that Gog of Magog must represent a human figure.36 Careful reconsideration of the way in which Ezekiel 3839
portrays Gog favors identifying him as a foreign deity.
There are three features which suggest that Gog should not be associated with
a strictly historical figure. First, it is important to recognize that Gog hails from
Magog, a place of uncertain location. Magog is a symbolic space, probably one that
the author(s) did not conceive as mappable and did not intend to be identified definitively.37 A similarly symbolic meaning applies to Gogs horde, which is comprised of armies from nations that represent the known world.38 Although either
feature could be used in a hyperbolic description of a human king or army, the
non-geographic and non-historical nature of the images opens the question of
whether this language points towards a historical or ahistorical referent.
A second feature also points away from Gog being a human figure. Ezekiel 38:9
depicts Gog advancing like a devastating storm ( ;cf. Isa 10:3; Zeph 1:15) and
like a cloud that covers the earth () . These images evoke both
Baal the rider upon the clouds (e.g., KTU 1.3 iii 3638, 1.4 iii 1011, 1718, etc.; cf.
Ps 104:3) and Marduk, who deploys the four winds along with numerous other
storm elements (Enma eli IV 4258). Although such cosmic language described
kings in the Neo-Assyrian period,39 that sort of description does not feature in the
Neo-Babylonian period.40 While it remains possible that Ezekiel attributed this
cosmic imagery to a human figure, both the wider Mesopotamian usage and the
way in which Ezekiel 17 employs similar storm imagery only to characterize Judahs patron deity indicate that Gogs cosmic features denote his divine identity.
Thirdly, Ezekiels appropriation of the foe from the north theme is ahistorical
in character. Brevard Childs observes that Ezekiels idiosyncratic use of the great
army approaching from the north has been elevated into the trans-historical. . . .
Gog has become the representative of the cosmic powers of the returned chaos
36
The possibility that Gog represents a divine figure has been advanced in the past. For
instance, Johannes Hermann proposed a connection between Gog and the deity Kakka who
appears in Tablet III of Enma eli (Johannes Hermann, Ezechiel bersetzt und erklrt [KAT 11;
Leipzig: Deichert, 1924], 244), although his argument is unconvincing.
37
Cf. Corrine Carvalho, The God That Gog Creates, Forthcoming.
38
Whereas Odell maps the nations into an alliance of northern and southern countries
(Odell, Ezekiel, 46671), Tooman places them in a circular arrangement that covers all points
of the compass (Tooman, Gog of Magog, 14750). In either case, the effect is the same: Gog is
supported by a horde indicative of worldwide domination.
39
See C. L. Crouch, War and Ethics in the Ancient Near East: Military Violence in Light of Cosmology and History (BZAW 407; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2009), 3564.
40
David S. Vanderhooft, The Neo-Babylonian Empire and Babylon in the Latter Prophets (HSM
59; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1999), 4041.
C. A. STRINE
97
which Yahweh destroys in the latter days, powers that cannot be described as historical.41 Childs correctly recognizes that Gog is something other than a historical
human character and is instead a figure who represents cosmic chaos, the very
definition of the divine adversary in the Chaoskampf.
If these three points support identifying Gog as a deity, what is to be made of
YHWH assigning Gog a burial site in Israel (39:11)? Surely a deity does not have a
physical grave. Note, however, how the text states that Gog is buried in the valley
of the Oberim ( ) east of the sea () . Francesca Stavrakopoulou
remarks that this location points to the mythic-symbolic function of a valley as
the intersection of the earthly realm and the underworld.42 Bearing in mind that
deities are depicted descending into and ascending from the subterranean home of
the dead in other ancient Near Eastern myths (e.g., The Descent of Ishtar to the Underworld; Baals defeat by Mot), it is not at all clear that Gogs gravesite indicates
that he is a human. Indeed, the name Oberim evokes the Ugaritic word brm,
which denotes the deified dead, according Stavrakopoulou, but that can only be
conjecture. Nonetheless, it is likely that there is a double entendre in Gogs fallen
army being called ( 39:11; cf. 39:15), which can mean crowd or horde, but is also
a common way to describe chaos.43
None of these points alone proves that Gog is a deity, but the cumulative effect of these features is, as Fitzpatrick notes, to present Gog as the antithesis of
creation.44 It also justifies asking, Does a human or divine Gog better fit in the
plot of Ezekiel 3839? Here, an argument from symmetry may be advanced,
namely, that identifying Gog as a foreign deity balances the battle between YHWH
and Gog. If YHWHs adversary represents a foreign human king, then the battle is
between a divine power and a human power. YHWHs victory might be complete,
but the defeat of a mere human being and his armies is hardly an awe-inspiring act
for a deity. By contrast, if the battle pits YHWH against a foreign deity who can
summon cosmic forces and human armies from every corner of the known world,
then the outcome is legitimately in doubt. Victory, in this scenario, is both remarkable and capable of producing the awe and wonder of YHWH that Ezekiel 38
39 stresses is the point of the battle (i.e., 38:16, 23; 39:6, 7, 21). Fitzpatrick grasps
this dynamic when he reckons that Ezekiel 3839, like the broader ancient Near
Eastern Chaoskampf tradition, presents deities battling with one another.45
Fitzpatrick expands this line of argument to support his view that the Gog oracle is a new ending to the Israelite cosmogonic myth that offers fulfillment to
41
Brevard S. Childs, The Enemy From the North and the Chaos Tradition, JBL 78
(1959): 18798 (196). Cf. Klein, Schriftauslegung, 132-40.
42
Francesca Stavrakopoulou, Gogs Grave and the Use and Abuse of Corpses in Ezekiel
39:11-20, JBL 129 (2010): 6784 (77).
43
Stephen L. Cook, Prophecy and Apocalypticism: The Postexilic Social Setting (Minneapolis:
Fortress Press, 1989), 93.
44
Fitzpatrick, The Disarmament of God, 87.
45
98
the Israelite creation myth.46 Though he correctly apprehends the importance of

the Chaoskampf for understanding Ezekiel 3839, he overplays creation as the key
theme of the Chaoskampf. Neither in Ezekiel 3839 nor elsewhere in the book does
YHWH create the heavens and earth. John Day demonstrated that there are passages in the Old Testament which associate Yahwehs conflict with the dragon and
the sea with the creation of the world,47 but none of those instances are in Ezekiel.
Furthermore, Day showed that the concern for creation was appropriated from the
West Semitic, not the Mesopotamian, manifestation of the Chaskampf.48 W. G. Lambert established almost a half-century ago with respect to Enma eli, the exemplar
of that tradition, that its primary concern is to affirm Marduk as the deity who
held all might and all right.49 This cosmic projection of Nebuchadnezzar Is Realpolitik concentrates on the theme of supremacy, not creation. Likewise, this is the
explicitly stated result that Ezekiel 3839 predicates of those who witness YHWHs
defeat of Gog (cf. 38:16, 23; 39:6, 7, 21). The focus of the Gog oracle is not creation,
but a divine struggle for cosmic authority.50
EZEKIEL 3848* AS CHAOSKAMPF MYTH

Susan Niditch has noted the similarities between the temple vision of Ezekiel
4048 and an extremely ancient mythic pattern, namely that of the victory and
enthronement of the deity.51 The essential action motifs or plot events of this
traditional literary theme, she continues, consist of (1) a challenge to the deity,
(2) a battle, (3) a victory, (4) a procession, (5) the enthronement/building of a
house, and (6) a feast.52 Niditch then focuses on the way that this pattern replicates the Babylonian Enuma elish, which depicts Marduks victory over Tiamat,
and . . . the Canaanite epic of Baal and Anat, which tells of Baals victory over the
Sea and of his temporary defeat by and eventual victory over Death.53
Without disregarding the likelihood that there are influences on Ezekiel 3848
that lie beyond these two texts, the previously noted connections to Enma eli
elsewhere in Ezekiel and the shared concern for the supremacy of one particular
John Day, Gods Conflict with the Dragon and the Sea: Echoes of a Canaanite Myth in the Old
Testament (COP 35; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985), 61.
48
Day, Gods Conflict, 61.
49
W. G. Lambert, The Reign of Nebuchadnezzar I: A Turning Point in the History of Ancient Mespotamian Religion, in The Seeds of Wisdom: Essays in Honor of T. J. Meek (ed. W.S.
McCullough; Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1964), 4.
50
Or, as Klein remarks (Schriftauslegung, 140), Gog is not only the last enemy in the
book itself, but in the overall shape of the book also presents the victory of YHWH over this
enemy as the ultimate demonstration of his sovereignty.
51
Susan Niditch, Ezekiel 4048 in a Visionary Context, CBQ 48 (1996): 20824 (221).
52
Niditch, Ezekiel 4048, 221; cf. Fitzpatrick, The Disarmament of God, 18192.
53
Niditch, Ezekiel 4048, 221.
46
47
C. A. STRINE
99
deity in both texts supports revisiting and expanding Niditchs deduction. In addition, Winitzers assessment that the plot structure of Gilgame informs the story in
Ezekiel 28 offers a precedent for a renewed analysis of how Ezekiel 3848 interacts
with the plot structure of Enma eli, an equally prominent Mesopotamian text.54
And, finally, the absence of evidence that Gog is modeled on the dragon or the sea,
the cosmic antagonists in the Baal Cycle,55 points away from the West Semitic version of the Chaoskampf and towards its Mesopotamian exemplar.
It remains necessary to establish the text for analysis. The existence of P967
provides the rare occasion on which the diachronic growth of a canonical text is
traceable. The Old Greek (hereafter OG) tradition represented by P967 has Ezekiel
37 following the Gog oracles in Ezekiel 3839, before concluding with Ezekiel 4048
in a form that matches the MT with few exceptions. Space prohibits any detailed
discussion of the issues, so it must suffice to mention that the work of Johan Lust,
Ashley Crane, and Ingrid Lilly gives ample evidence that P967 attests an older arrangement of the book than the MT.56 It is logical to work with the OG arrangement in view of the aims of this essay and, for the remainder of it, Ezekiel 3848*
shall refer to the textual arrangement in P967 where Ezekiel 3839 comes before
Ezekiel 37, which is then followed by Ezekiel 4048.
The plot of Ezekiel 3848* can be summarized as follows:57
38:113
38:1423
39:18
39:920
39:2124
39:2529
37:114
37:1528
Preparation for Battle (with description of Gogs army)

Description of the Coming Battle
Battle between Gog and YHWH
Disposal of Gog and his horde
Summary of the Message for Israel in these Events
Promise to Restore Israel
(Re)Creation of Humanity
Unification of Tribes
Winitzer, Assyriology and Jewish Studies in Tel Aviv, forthcoming.

On the distinctive nature of these enemies in the West Semitic tradition embodied at
Ugarit, see Day, Gods Conflict, 712. For further discussion of similarities between East and
West Semitic traditions and possible tradents see Jean-Marie Durand, Le mythologme du
combat entre le Dieu de lOrage et la Mer en Msopotamie, MARI 7 (1993): 4161.
56
See Crane, Israels Restoration, and Lilly, Two Books, for full treatments of the issue. For
an overview of Johan Lusts work on the topic see, inter alia, J. Lust, Ezekiel 3640 in the
Oldest Greek Manuscript, CBQ 43 (1981): 51733; idem., The Sequence of Ez 3640 and the
Omission of Ez 36,23c-38 in Pap. 967 and in Codex Wirceburgensis, BIOSCS 14 (1981): 4546;
idem., The Use of Textual Witnesses for the Establishment of the Text. The Shorter and
Longer Texts of Ezekiel, in Ezekiel and His Book: Textual and Literary Criticism and Their Interrelation (ed. J. Lust; BETL 74; Leuven: Peeters, 1986), 720; and idem., Major Divergences
Between LXX and MT in Ezekiel, in The Earliest Text of the Hebrew Bible: The Relationship between the Masoretic Text and the Hebrew Base of the Septuagint Reconsidered (ed. A. Schenker;
SBLSCS 52; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2003), 8392.
57
For variations on this outline, see Daniel I. Block, The Book of Ezekiel: Chapters 2548 (NICOT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998) and Tooman, Gog of Magog, 13437.
54
55
100

4047:12
47:1348:34
48:35
Temple Vision
Assignment of places for leaders/tribes
Arrival of YHWH
Lest it be obscured in the detailed discussion that follows, note that the plotline of
Ezekiel 3848* resembles Tablets IV to VI of Enma eli: a battle between deities
ends with the death of the losing deity who is dismembered and disposed of (IV
85V 62), after which humanity is created (VI 138) as a prelude to the climactic
construction of a temple to honor the victorious deity (VI 4579). Ezekiel 3848*
does not follow the plot of Enma eli exactly, but the similarities are conspicuous
and far stronger than between Ezekiel and any other extant text from the ancient
Near East.
The first section (38:113) describes how Gog and his horde prepare for the
coming battle. Gog is identified as the prince, head of Meshech and Tubal, and the
nations composing his horde are named. At an indeterminate time in the future
( ) Gog will advance against the mountains of Israel with the wicked intention to plunder the land. This section resembles Enma eli IV 3058: Marduk,
just enthroned on his royal dais and having proved his power by creating and destroying a constellation, is adorned with unstoppable weaponry (IV 30) for his
fight against Tiamat. It is probably not incidental that YHWHs battle with Gog will
occur at the navel of the earth ( ; v. 12), an image reminiscent of Nebuchadnezzar IIs rhetoric that portrays Babylon (Marduks cultic home) as the center of the world.58
When 38:4 speaks of Gogs hordes as horses and horsemen, their clothing and
weapons (vv. 4b5) are itemized in some detail, using locutions culled from Ezek
21, Ezek 27, and, especially, from Ezek 23 writes Tooman.59 Pinpointing the allusion to Ezek 23:12, Tooman remarks that the imagery adds nothing to the plot or
argument of [the Gog oracle] and only serves to direct the audiences mind back
to this earlier material. Tooman is unable to explain how Ezekiel 38 interprets or
reformulates this material as his model predicts it should. His error is in seeking an
explanation at all. The image is not reinterpreted but stealthily connects Gogs
hordes with the foreign armies of Ezekiel 23: the Assyrians and the Babylonians
(23:1218).60
Ezekiel 38:9 supports this assessment. There Gog takes the form of a devastating storm ( ;cf. Isa 10:3; Zeph 1:15) and a cloud that covers the earth
() . These images are redolent of the Chaoskampf generally, but in
the context of an allusion to Mesopotamian armies they recall that Marduk sets
flashing lightning before his face (birqu; IV 39), then fashions a storm (imullu), an
evil wind (ru lemnu), a tempest (me), and cyclone (aamutu; all four in IV 45),
and finally, as his greatest weapon, prepares a deluge (abbu; IV 49).
Vanderhooft, Neo-Babylonian Empire, 4549.
60
So also, Klein, Schriftauslegung, 129-30.
58
59
C. A. STRINE
101
Still more persuasive evidence that a Mesopotamian army lies behind Gogs
hordes comes in Toomans own contention that the pieces and parts of 38.713
follow the order of elements in [Isa 10 and Jer 49] (almost) perfectly.61 Isaiah 10
condemns Assyria, who is the rod of YHWHs anger, for exceeding its remit and
conceiving arrogant plans of conquest (cf. Ezek 38:1013). Jeremiah 49 is even
more specific: the verbal similarities are to Jer 49:2833,62 a pericope that recounts
Nebuchadnezzars assault and plunder of Kedar and Hazor. Tooman concludes that
[t]he characterization of Nebuchadnezzars thoughts as a scheme, an evil plan, is
used to depict Gog as well.63 The depiction is not just of Gog, but of Gog and his
human army; in symmetry with YHWH and the people of Israel, the text presents
Gog as the foreign divine power symbolizing chaos who is represented in the human realm by these imperial armies.
The next section (38:1423) offers a prologue to the battle between Gog and
YHWH. Gog and his army, advancing like a cloud that darkens the land, are met by
YHWH, whose raging anger manifests in an earthquake, a destroying sword, pestilence, and other elements from a cataclysmic storm. This corresponds to Enma eli
IV 6086. Marduk sets out towards Tiamat and sets his face against her. A conversation ensues between them about the actions that have brought them to this
point, with Marduks final statement indicating that it is a prelude to the real drama: Come within range, let us duel, you and I! It is worth noting the reason that
Marduk gives for the ensuing battle, specifically Tiamats disrespect towards Anar
(IV 8384). Another motivation goes unspecified, namely, that Marduks willingness to fight Tiamat is tied to his plan to be enthroned as the divine king. Both
points correspond to the motivation for YHWHs battle with Gog: I will magnify
myself, and cause myself to be hallowed, and I will be known in the eyes of many
nations. And they will know that I am YHWH (38:23). Or, as Tooman remarks,
[t]here is no concern for Israel. . . . God acts for the sake of his reputation.64
Though there are some terms in 38:1423 that bear a passing resemblance to
the depiction of Marduk in the Enma eli,65 it is in Ezek 39:18 that the most imTooman, Gog of Magog, 157.
Tooman, Gog of Magog, 158; cf. Klein, Schriftauslegung, 135.
63
64
65
Gogs forces, a great horde and a vast army, all ride horses (38:15). This is comparable
to Marduks forces, which are headed by an awesome storm that is described as a terrible
chariot, a four-team steed of horses called Slaughterer, Merciless, Overwhelmer, and Soaring
(EE IV 5051). Ezekiel 38:22 presents YHWHs judgment in three dyads: pestilence and blood,
rain and hailstones, and fire and brimstone. The first two come from elsewhere in Ezekiel;
the third, similar to the judgment on Sodom and Gomorrah in Gen 19:24, is not wholly dissimilar from EE IV 40, which explains that Marduk covers his body with a raging fire (nablu
mutameu) in order to battle Tiamat. While the brimstone has no obvious counterpart in EE
IV, the abundance of storm imagery is not unconnected to the great deluge (abbu; EE IV 75)
and the various other storm images in this section.
61
62
102
portant links occur. The section opens with YHWH declaring that I am against you
(cf. IV 60) and saying that YHWH will cause Gog to turn round, to drive on, to go up
from the far reaches of the north, and to come to the mountains of Israel, where
the battle will take place. This statement has exercised scholars who are uncomfortable with YHWH controlling Gog in this fashion. But a different, perhaps less
problematic, approach is suggested by Enma eli IV 8790, where Marduks challenge to Tiamat throws her into a wild rage that results in her coming forth for
battle. Perhaps Ezek 39:12 envisions a similar situation in which YHWHs declaration of intent ( ; v. 1b) merely instigates Gogs procession to the battleground (thus the causative form of in v. 2).
Tooman also demonstrates that 39:18 draws from Isa 14.66 That oracle explicitly condemns the king of Babylon for his oppressive acts, though it is widely believed to be a reappropriation of an oracle originally directed against Assyria. Because Tooman decides on other evidence that Ezekiel 3839 is subsequent to the
work of Deutero-Isaiah, he presumes the author of the Gog oracles follows Deutero-Isaiahs lead here.67 Absent that debatable assessment of the Gog oracles
date,68 it is equally plausible that Ezek 39:18 knows the Neo-Assyrian period material in Isa 14 and precedes Deutero-Isaiah in reappropriating it against Babylon. As
I shall argue below, because Ezekiel is largely shaped by the asymetric power
structure of the mid sixth-century BCEwhen Babylonian hegemony made explicit
resistance perilousit refashions themes from Isa 14 to condemn the Babylonians
covertly. Deutero-Isaiah, a product from an era when Babylonian power was waning and overt resistance to it was less treacherous, is, by contrast, free to name
Babylon explicitly.69 Differing socio-political circumstances explain the conceptual
agreement and rhetorical divergence of the two texts.
Further evidence that Ezek 39:18 has Enma eli as background comes from
the brief but decisive description of YHWH defeating Gog in v. 3. This concise summary declares that YHWH will strike Gogs bow from his left hand and cause the
arrow to fall from Gogs right hand. Neither weapon appears in the earlier description of Gog, so their introduction here necessitates an explanation. Consider Marduks slaying of Tiamat, in which he impedes her with a net and uses the winds to
open her mouth, at which point (IV 101102):
He shot off the arrow, it broke open her belly,
It cut to her innards, it pierced the heart.70

For instance, Klein, Schriftauslegung, 128, concludes that Ezek 39:3 draws on the oracles against Egypt in Ezekiel 2930, especially 29:5 and 30:22.
68
See note 7 above.
69
Cf. Strine, Sworn Enemies, 25862.
70
66
67
C. A. STRINE
103
Paired with the evidence from Ezek 17 and the other indications that Enma eli
provides context for the Gog oracle, it hardly seems accidental that YHWHs defeat
of Gog includes disabling the very weapon with which Marduk kills Tiamat.
Ezekiel 39:920 advances the narrative with three events: the people burn the
weapons of their now dead enemies (vv. 910), Gog and his horde are interred in
( vv. 1116), and then the bodies of Gog and his horde are devoured by the
birds and animals (vv. 1720). Although Tooman recognizes that this episode is
unique,71 he searches for texts that inspire it (e.g., Deut 26:9 and Jer 7:32), only to
conclude that the whole is predicated upon Priestly notions about the defiling
effects of corpses on the land.72 If one follows his initial observation that there is
no clear precedent for this scene in the Hebrew Bible and looks outside it, other
possibilities emerge. For instance, Stavrakopoulou maintains that the use and
abuse of corpses in this narrative are more importantly indicative of the powerful
social, territorial, and ideological function of Gogs grave: its construction, placing,
and presence assert Israels claim to its land and legitimize the exiles return.73
Further, she observes that the biblical description of Gogs grave is reminiscent of
the rhetoric of conquest in many third- and second-millennium texts from lower
Mesopotamia that describe the construction of vast burial mounds containing the
corpses of foreign enemies to mark the successful completion of a military campaign.74 Enma eli describes a related practice: Marduk gathers together Tiamats
hordes and sets them in a heap (IV 112) as a sign to others (V 7376).
If there is a model for the devouring of the corpses in Ezek 39:1120, it is
probably not Enma eli but the Baal Cycle (KTU 1.6 ii 357),75 though that account
differs substantially as well.76 It is more helpful to foreground Stavrakopoulous
point that the juxtaposition of burial and devouring suggests that the bodies are
exhumed in order to be a visual reminder of YHWHs victory.77 Bearing that in mind,
there is a parallel to the way Tiamats hordes are handled (EE V 7576):
He made images [of them] and set them up at the [Gate of] Apsu:
Lest ever after they be forgotten, let this be the sign. 78
Verses 2129 then bring Ezekiel 39 to its triumphant climax with two distinct
points: vv. 2124 summarize the message for Israel in YHWHs defeat of Gog and vv.
73
Stavrakopoulou, Gogs Grave, 84.
74
75
cf. Athtarts command to Baal to scatter Yamm (see Mark S. Smith and Wayne Thomas Pitard, The Ugaritic Baal Cycle: Volume 2: Introduction with Text, Translation and Commentary of
KTU/CAT 1.3-1.4 [VTSup 114/2; Leiden: Brill, 2009], 357).
76
77
78
71
72
104
2529 speak of Israels return to its land. It is unsurprising that they evince no
connection to Enma eli. Yet, this is just a brief interlude and more similarities
emerge when one looks at the remainder of Ezekiel 3848*.
In Enma eli, Marduk continues on to create humanity (VI 138), an act paralleled in Ezek 37:114, the next pericope in Ezekiel 3848*. Marduk proposes the
creation of humanity to Ea to reduce the gods labor. Needing raw material, Marduk
selects Qingus blood, allowing this to double as his punishment. Ea is then able to
make humans and to impose the burden of the gods upon them (VI 36). Granting
that differences remain between this account and Ezek 37:114, it is remarkable
that the (re)animation of human beings in Ezek 37:114 corresponds in its narrative location to Enma eli.79 The collaboration between YHWH and Ezekiel also
stands out: like Marduk compels Ea to create humanity from Qingus blood, so also
does YHWH compel Ezekiel to prophesy so that the bones gather together and become animate humans.80 These similarities stand out all the more when set against
the lack of parallels in other potential background texts like the Baal Cycle.81
Ezekiels following sign act predicting the reunification of Israel and Judah
(37:1528) is unparalleledagain no surprise given its contentbut that gives way
to a slow ascent towards the books denouement in the temple vision of Ezekiel 40
48. Albeit different in their extent and detail, it is obvious that the account of the
Esagilas construction and Ezekiels vision of a restored temple play comparable
roles in the two texts.82
To sum up the preceding two sections, Ezekiel 3848* contains allusions to a
number of key images in Enma eli while it also exhibits conspicuous parallels to
its plot structure. These observations inform the pericopes interpretation in at
least three ways. First, these similarities are further evidence that Ezekiel 3839
portray Gog as a deity, not a human. Recognizing that the text depicts a battle between deities, the Gog oracle is logically read in light of the ancient Near Eastern
Chaoskampf tradition. Second, comparing the narrative structure of Ezekiel 3848*
with other Chaoskmpfe, Enma eli provides the closest parallel. Third, this structural correlation is supported by key terms and images in Ezekiel 3839 that portray Gog in images redolent of Marduk (e.g., 38:9), Gogs hordes as a Mesopotamian
imperial army (e.g., 38:4), and YHWH in terms reminiscent of Marduk (e.g., 39:3),
the divine king.
This evidence is circumstantial and not direct, so it can be interpreted in other ways. Indeed, some will regard the proposed connections as too vague. The final
section of this essay advances an argument that accounts for that ambiguity by
79
Fitzpatrick, The Disarmament of God, 178, discusses other connections that have been
made between Ezek 37:114 and Enma eli that strengthen my case.
80
It may also be significant that the bones form a vast, great army () ,
which enables them to take on the task that YHWH has heretofore performed, namely, defending the land and fighting back chaos.
81
Day, Gods Conflict, 718, esp. 1718.
82
Cf. Niditch, Ezekiel 40-48, 222; and Fitzpatrick, The Disarmament of God, 18592.
C. A. STRINE
105
showing that the socio-political setting that prevailed in the sixth century BCE necessitated it.
GOG ORACLES AS DISGUISED TRANSCRIPT OF RESISTANCE

James C. Scott establishes a cross-cultural basis for concluding that subaltern
groups shrewdly express their distaste for imperial power in disguised forms. In
Domination and the Arts of Resistance he remarks that [i]f subordinate groups have
typically won a reputation for subtletya subtlety their superiors often regard as
cunning and deception it is because their vulnerability has rarely permitted
them the luxury of direct confrontation.83 The subversive ideas of subaltern
groups are commonly voiced outside the gaze and hearing of the dominant group
in what Scott calls a hidden transcript.
As the hidden transcript develops from unrefined, raw expressions of resistance into sophisticated, cooked statements of opposition, it finds its way into
the open.84 Neither the hidden transcript nor the disguised version of it that
emerges in public is a language apart, but remains in constant dialogue with the
public transcript that is controlled by the dominant group.85 The hidden transcript
stays cloaked and only at highly charged moments does it receive a complete revelation; the hidden transcript is usually voiced as a partly sanitized, ambiguous,
and coded version of the hidden transcript.86 Although the hidden transcript is
always present in the public discourse of subordinate groups87 it remains beyond
the reach of the powerful by one of two means: either the messenger is anonymous
or the message is disguised.
Anathea Portier-Young explores texts that adopt the former mode of disguise.
She offers new evidence that pseudepigraphic apocalyptic literatureparticularly
Daniel and the Enochic traditionsfunctions as resistance literature against the
hegemony of Antiochus IV.88 Hegemony, defined as nonviolent forms of control
exercised through cultural institutions, systems of patronage, and the structured
practices of everyday life,89 has a cosmological dimension that legitimates claims
about truth.90 Resistant counterdiscourse comes in many forms; among them, she
draws attention to [o]ne form of counterdiscourse that answers myth with
85
86
87
88
See John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), esp. 43144, for a summary of previous scholarship
on these texts.
89
Portier-Young, Apocalypse, 383.
90
Portier-Young, Apocalypse, 12.
83
84
106
myth, as in the Book of the Watchers, the Book of Dreams, or Daniel 7. These texts
retain categories from the dominant ideology but assign them different values.91
The book of Ezekiel, also a product of an intense multicultural, subaltern experience in the Babylonian exile, is a precursor to the phenomenon that PortierYoung identifies in the pseudepigraphic apocalyptic texts. However, it relies on
the latter of Scotts modes of disguise: rather than obscuring its messenger by
pseudepigraphy, it encodes its subversive ideas in such a way that the excluded
(and in this case, powerful) audience may grasp the seditious message in the performance but find it difficult to react because that sedition is clothed in terms that
can also lay claim to a perfectly innocent construction.92
Take, for example, the camouflaged ways that Ezekiel 3839 connect Gog and
his hordes with the Neo-Babylonian empire. It begins in 38:4, where the description of Gogs hordes is an allusion to the description of Assyria and Babylon in Ezekiel 23. Tooman presciently writes that this language covertly encourages the
reader to transfer the negative associations of Israels lovers to Gog and his allies.93 Next, Ezek 38:713 uses a cluster of terms to evoke Isa 10 and Jer 49, two
oracles that condemn the plundering ways of the Assyrian and Babylonian kings.
This implicitly portrays Gogs hordes as a Mesopotamian imperial army subjugating Judah. For an audience attuned to the dialect of disguise in Ezekiel, this adumbrates the correlation of Gog with Marduk in 39:18. Reusing locutions from Isa
1494 while depicting Gog battling YHWH with the very weapons that Marduk uses to
kill Tiamat, 39:18 responds to the myth of Marduks divine supremacy by claiming
that YHWH will be triumphant.
Alongside these allusions, Ezekiel 3848* surreptitiously borrows key plot
points from Enma eli in order to advance its counterdiscourse. Instead of Marduk
compelling Ea to create humanity from Qingus blood, YHWH guides the prophet
Ezekiel through (re)animating the dry bones into a vast army. At the climax it is
YHWH, not Marduk, who is honored with the building of a temple. The basic storyline of Enma eli is adopted by the book of Ezekiel and adapted into an expression
of discontentment with the current state of affairs and an argument for recalcitrant Judahite nationalism.
Without appealing to weak evidence that Ezekiel 3839 is a foreign nation oracle, or wading into the vexed question of whether the Gog oracle is apocalyptic
(however conceived and defined), approaching Ezekiel 3848* in this way reveals
how Gog is a coded indictment of Babylon. Gog is a cipher for a historical, sixth
91
Portier-Young, Apocalypse, 1315, who notes that The Book of Watchers seeks to create a new mythology that inverts motifs from Greek and Babylonian religious traditions.
92
93
Tooman, Gog of Magog, 153. Emphasis added.
94
The identity of in Isa 14:12 is debated, though there is wide consensus
that it refers to a deity (see, e.g., John C. Poirier, An Illuminating Parallel to Isaiah XIV 12,
VT 99 [1999]: 37189). In that respect, Isa 14 parallels Ezekiel 3839 in seeing a direct connection between the defeat of a deity and the defeat of the associated human king.
C. A. STRINE
107
century BCE enemy of Judah, though not a human figure who lived in the sixth century BCE. Gog represents Marduk, patron deity of Babylon, divine counterpart to
the human king of Babylon, and cosmic head of its vast army. This ideology, reaffirmed annually in the new year celebration, is a conspicuous tool of hegemony, a
prominent nonviolent form of control exercised through cultural institutions by
the Babylonians to subjugate the Judahite exiles among others.
Still, Ezekiel 3848* can be interpreted as non-threatening to the Babylonian
imperial edifice. Note that the repopulated land of Israel has boundaries that extend only slightly east of the Jordan river.95 This restored Israel is hardly a threat
to Babylonian power and international control. Furthermore, the allusions to
Enma eli and Marduk in Ezekiel 3848* remain indeterminate enough that the
Judahite exiles could claim no intent to subvert the prevailing Babylonian ideology. Envision a Judahite in Babylon explaining to the powers that be that Ezekiel 38
48* imagines a return and restoration authorized by Marduk and the Babylonian
king. That may sound far fetched, but there is a precedent for it in both the Assyrian and Babylonian practice of refurbishing cult images and sending them back to
restored temples in order to curry favor with those populations.96 Under that
guise, it is possible to assert that Ezekiel 3848* does not condemn Babylon, its
king, or patron deity, but visualizes a restored Israel serving as a Babylonian ally
near the border of its most dangerous enemy, Egypt.97 Recall that Ezekiel 17 utilizes that very logic.
Scott shows that the modes of concealment are limited only by the imaginative capacity of the subordinates so that it is impossible to overestimate the subtlety of this manipulation.98 To that he adds that [t]hese ambiguous, polysemic
elements of folk culture mark off a relatively autonomous realm of discursive freedom on the condition that they declare no direct opposition to the public transcript
as authorized by the dominant.99 There is no denying Ezekiels imaginative capacity (e.g., Ezekiel 16; 18; 23). It is also manifest that the book addresses a subordinated population that is facing issues analagous to the groups that Scott analyzed.
Recognizing, finally, the plausible interpretation of Ezekiel 3848* as an indirect
challenge to Babylonian hegemony, it is necessary to consider seriously that this
material is a disguised counterdiscourse.
Equally, since it is impossible to read Ezekiel 3839 without inquiring if it does
contain an anti-imperial agenda, each commentator must answer that question.
Weighing up the broader collection of evidence indicating that the book is largely
a product of the first half of the sixth century BCE, that Ezekiel 3839 is wellintegrated into that larger whole, that Ezekiel 17 contains a similar counterdis95
See Daniel Block, The Book of Ezekiel: Chapters 2548, 711, for an illustration of the borders of the restored land envisioned in Ezek 47:1348:34.
96
See Kutsko, Between Heaven and Earth, 11317, for discussion and further references.
97
See Crouch and Strine, YHWHs Battle against Chaos, 889-96, for details.
98
99
108
course against Marduk and Babylonian ideology, and the allusions between Ezekiel
3839 and Enma eli outlined here, I am persuaded that the narrative that stretches from YHWHs defeat of Gog to YHWHs arrival at the restored temple is a Chaoskampf that disguises Ezekiels intent to resist Babylonian forms of hegemony.100
The vibrant and varied Wirkungsgeschichte of the Gog oracle is explained to
some extent by this approach as well. Because it manipulated the themes in the
Chaoskampf so successfully when crafting its disguise for Gog and his hordes, Ezekiel 3839 presented a malleable text for future authors to reapply against subsequent imperial powers. The book of Revelations reappropriation of many images
from Ezekiel 3839 against Rome, to take just one example of this tactic, is easily
understandable.
Ezekiel 3848* contains elusive images, polysemous language, ambiguous
metaphors, and narrates a disjointed series of events. These features demand an
explanation. Pace Tooman, they are not the result of an authors attempt to align
Ezekiel with other canonical texts, though many of the allusions he recognizes
between them are genuine. Rather, Ezekiel 3839 works together with chs. 37 and
4048 to form a Chaoskampf that resists an empire. To a Judahite displeased with
Babylonian rule, it is a disguised counterdiscourse asserting that YHWH, not Marduk, shall prevail.
100
It is reasonable to suggest that the text has Persian rather than Babylonian hegemony in view. To be sure, Cyrus and his Medo-Persian successors did appropriate Marduk as a
divine patron (e.g., the Cyrus Cylinder). Still, the broader evidence for a Neo-Babylonian
provenance cited earlier points towards Babylonian hegemony as the intended target.
6
Propagandistic Constructions of Empires
in the Book of Isaiah
Gran Eidevall
One way of putting the fundamental question addressed by this paper is: Does
the book of Isaiah uphold or undermine empire? There can be no straightforward
answer to that question as more than one empire is described in it. Thus, it is necessary to be more specific: Which empire are we speaking of? To make things even
more complicated we need to add: Which part of the book, Proto-, Deutero- or
Trito-Isaiah? And which editorial layer?
Despite all disputes concerning details, a majority of scholars would probably
agree that the history of composition and redaction of Isaiah 166 covers at least
four centuries, from the 8th century through the Persian era. Interestingly, from
the point of view of the history of Judah, this lengthy process of textual growth
coincides with the period of subjugation to several successive empires: Assyria,
Egypt (a short interlude), Babylonia, and Persia. To this list we might add the Ptolemaic and the Seleucid empires, since some late additions to the book, for instance
Isa 19:1925, probably originated in the Hellenistic era. However, the last major
redaction, which shaped the book as we now have it, is often dated to the 5th or the
4th century, that is, to the Persian period.1
This is the point of departure for the following discussion: All the texts in the
book of Isaiah originated in a situation when Judah/Yehud was dominated by an
empire. Hence, it is far from surprising that large parts of the text are dominated
by discourse on the role or fate of various empires. In my monograph Prophecy and
Propaganda, I studied images of enemies in the book of Isaiah, including various
Thus, e.g., Marvin Sweeney, Isaiah 139: With an Introduction to Prophetic Literature (FOTL
16; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996), 5155.
109
110
images of empires.2 To sum up the results, I found that while the portraits of Assyria, Egypt, and Babylon are strikingly different, they would all seem to serve the
propagandistic purposes of leading circles in Jerusalem, since they reflect the Zioncentered perspective which defines the ideology of the book.3 In my analysis, I
stressed the independent, and potentially subversive, character of this ideology.
Without using that term, I tended to depict the book of Isaiah as largely antiimperial. However, it is possible to problematize such a picture of this prophetic
book.
In this paper, I would like to introduce new perspectives, in order to develop
the discussion further. In Prophecy and Propaganda, I occasionally registered features in the texts that might imply a more positive stance toward a certain empire.
How could such signs of ambiguity be integrated into the analysis? Further questions raised by that previous study include: How should one explain apparent
instances of re-use of topoi from the Assyrian propaganda in depictions of the
Neo-Assyrian empire?4 Or how can the books conspicuous silence concerning
Persia be interpreted?5 In an attempt to throw new light on these and other issues,
I will deploy perspectives and concepts drawn from postcolonial theory. In one
very obvious sense, at least, the book of Isaiah can be seen as a postcolonial
document. It contains texts expressing the experiences of several centuries of
imperial domination.
Postcolonial theory has emerged in the context of studies focusing on the dynamics of subjugation and assimilation, resistance and liberation, in the former
colonies of European empires.6 Nevertheless, it appears to be applicable also in the
study of ancient empires, and more specifically, in the study of biblical texts composed in the shadow of, for instance, Assyria or Rome.7 According to Homi Bhabha,
2
Gran Eidevall, Prophecy and Propaganda: Images of Enemies in the Book of Isaiah (ConBOT
56; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2009). I am aware that the term propaganda can be seen as
to some extent anachronistic. However, I have not found any better alternative.
3
See Eidevall, Prophecy, 13032, 19094. On the Zion-centered ideology, see 18790. This
concept was not invented by me. It has been shown by other scholars, as well, that the consistent focus on the fate of Jerusalem creates a sense of unity across the oracular bricolage of
Isaiah 166. Within the world projected by this book, there is one center and summit: Zion,
the temple mount in Jerusalem. See Antti Laato, About Zion I Will Not Be Silent: The Book of
Isaiah as an Ideological Unity (ConBOT 44; Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell International, 1998)
and Christopher Seitz, Zions Final Destiny: The Development of the Book of Isaiah (Minneapolis:
Fortress, 1991).
4
Eidevall, Prophecy, 192.
5
6
For helpful introductions, see Leela Gandhi, Postcolonial Theory: A Critical Introduction
(New York: Columbia University Press, 1998); Uriah Y. Kim, Postcolonial Criticism: Who is
the Other in the Book of Judges? in Judges & Method: New Approaches in Biblical Studies (2nd ed.;
ed. Gale A. Yee; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007), 16182; and R. S. Sugirtharajah, Charting the
Aftermath: A Review of Postcolonial Criticism, in The Postcolonial Biblical Reader (ed. R. S.
Sugirtharajah; Malden/Oxford: Blackwell, 2006), 732.
7
See Jon L. Berquist, Postcolonialism and Imperial Motives for Canonization, in Postcolonialism and Scripture Reading (ed. L. Donaldson; Semeia 75; Atlanta: Society of Biblical
GRAN EIDEVALL
111
discourse arising out of colonial situations will typically display ambivalence.8 The
cultural identity developed by those who are colonized tends to be characterized
by hybridity. Bhabha speaks of an interstitial passage between fixed identifications which opens up the possibility of a cultural hybridity.9 Assimilation to the
norms of the colonizing culture is never complete. One may speak of mimicry,
described by Bhabha as being an imitation of the colonizers culture, which results
in behavior which is almost the same, but not quite.10 In many cases, and often for
obvious reasons, public responses to the oppressive power of the colonizers are
not openly subversive. Still, such speeches or texts may have a disturbing effect on
the imperial authority, since they move between mimicry and mockery.11 Inspired
by recent studies by Steed Vernyl Davidson (on the book of Jeremiah) and Hans
Leander (on the gospel of Mark), I shall make use of Bhabhas terminology in an
attempt to read a number of passages in the book of Isaiah as cultural responses to
imperial domination.12 In some cases, though, where such an approach seems less
fruitful, I will instead draw on the work of James C. Scott, concerning the function
of hidden transcripts, as expressions of resistance against empires.13 Scott describes
various techniques that serve to disguise the message in a situation of oppressive
domination.14 However, it needs to be stressed that throughout the analysis, a
tentative use of postcolonial perspectives will be combined with the use of more
conventional exegetical methods.
Toward the end of this paper, I will adopt a synchronic approach, discussing
possible implications of the overall structure of Isaiah 166. For the most part,
though, the order of presentation will be based upon a schematic diachronic sequence of empires dominating Judah. As is well known, the dating of each textual
Literature, 1996), 1535; Uriah Y. Kim, Decolonizing Josiah: Toward a Postcolonial Reading of the
Deuteronomistic History (The Bible in the Modern World 5; Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press,
2005); Stephen D. Moore, Empire and Apocalypse: Postcolonialism and the New Testament (Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press, 2006); and Fernando Segovia, Biblical Criticism and Postcolonial Studies: Toward a Postcolonial Optic, in The Postcolonial Biblical Reader (ed. R. S. Sugirtharajah; Malden/Oxford: Blackwell, 2006), 3344.
8
Homi K. Bhabha, DissemiNation: Time, Narrative, and the Margins of the Modern Nation, in Nation and Narration (ed. H. K. Bhabha; London: Routledge, 1990), 291322; idem, The
Location of Culture (London: Routledge, 1994), 12938.
9
Bhabha, The Location, 4.
10
Bhabha, The Location, 86 (emphasis as in the original).
11
Bhabha, The Location, 86 (emphasis added).
12
See Steed Vernyl Davidson, Ambivalence and Temple Destruction: Reading the Book
of Jeremiah with Homi Bhabha, in Jeremiah (Dis)Placed: New Directions in Writing/Reading
Jeremiah (ed. P. Diamond and L. Stulman; LHBOTS 529; New York: T & T Clark, 2011), 16271;
and Hans Leander, With Homi Bhabha at the Jerusalem City Gates: A Postcolonial Reading of
the Triumphant Entry (Mark 11.111), JSNT 32 (2010): 30935.
13
James C. Scott, Domination and the Arts of Resistance: Hidden Transcripts (New Haven:
Yale University Press, 1990).
14
Scott, Domination, 136-72 (quote on p. 139).
112
passage is a matter of scholarly dispute. Rather than making the whole discussion
contingent on my own reconstruction of the history of composition and redaction,
I have chosen to follow the course of the political history of the ancient Near East.
From a Judean readers point of view, I suggest, the logical order of the empires
would have been Assyria Egypt Babylonia Persia. In the first section, therefore, all texts referring to Assyria will be discussed, even though some of these texts
may actually have originated in the Persian era.
ASSYRIA
The prophecies dealing with Assyria can be divided into three groups, each of
them associated with a distinctive image of, and attitude to, this empire. Tentatively, these images and attitudes can be linked to successive stages in the historical
development of the Assyrian-Judean relations.
First Stage: Loyalty and Mimicry
In the initial stage, associated with the so-called Syro-Ephraimite crisis in the
730s BCE, Assyria is regarded as an ally of sorts. Posing a threat to Judahs rivals in
the regional conflict, Israel and Aram, the Assyrian empire becomes the enemys
enemy.15 The brief account in Isa 8:14 belongs to this group of texts. The main
point is that the centers of the two hostile kingdoms, Damascus and Samaria, are
about to be sacked and plundered (8:3). The Assyrian ruler is merely mentioned as
the one responsible for this apparently laudable action (8:4). In Isa 7:49a and 17:1
3, two oracles which convey a similar message as regards the fate of these neighboring nations, the identity of the attacker is not revealed. This is the case in Isa
28:14, as well. However, it is likely that 28:2 refers to an expected (or already
effectuated) Assyrian invasion of the Northern kingdom: See, the Lord ( )has
one who is powerful and strong; like a hailstorm, a destructive tempest, like a
storm of mighty, overflowing waters, he will hurl (them) down to earth with violence.16 Inundation metaphors are frequently attested in official Assyrian propaganda. More precisely, this is how Assyrian kings described their own victorious
army: as virtually unstoppable, like overflowing waters.17
This first group of texts corresponds roughly to recent reconstructions of the
8th century core of the book of Isaiah, made by other scholars.18 The first Isaiah
See further Eidevall, Prophecy, 19092.
Cf. Isa 8:7, where an Assyrian invasion of Judah is described in a similar way.
17
See Simonetta Ponchia, Analogie, metafore e similitudini nelle iscrizioni reali assiri:
Semantica e ideologia, Oriens Antiquus 26 (1987): 22355, esp. 23334. See also Peter Machinist, Assyria and Its Image in First Isaiah, JAOS 103 (1983): 71937, esp. 726.
18
Whereas Uwe Becker, Jesaja: von der Botschaft zum Buch (FRLANT 178; Gttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1997) has argued that the core comprised 8:1-4*, 17:1-3*, and 28:13*, Matthijs de Jong, Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets: A Comparative Study of the
15
16
GRAN EIDEVALL
113
appears to have been a prophet of the common Near Eastern type represented by
the texts from Mari and Nineveh, delivering oracles in support of the legitimacy of
the ruling dynasty, promising divine assistance to the king, and prefiguring the
imminent defeat of all his enemies. In other words, Isaiah ben Amoz can be characterized as a Judean nationalist. From such a perspective, one may ask, was there
any reason to prophesy against Assyria, as long as this empire was acting as the
enemys enemy?
However, on a closer examination, the portrayal of Assyria in these passages is
ambiguous. Beyond the stereotypical image of an invincible military force (likened
to a natural force), the texts do not provide any characterization of Assyria
neither critique nor praise. I suggest that this reticence is explicable in the light of
what actually happened in the aftermath of the Syro-Ephraimite crisis. TiglathPileser III struck against Israel and Aram, but he did not invade Judah. However,
king Ahaz had to pay a price for this protection. From now on, Judah was an
Assyrian vassal state. If the texts in our first group, and especially Isa 8:14 and
28:14, are read against this backdrop, one can make the following observations.
On the surface, these oracles are perfectly compatible with an attitude of loyalty
towards the Assyrian overlord. However, this remains implicit, since the texts do
not contain any declaration of loyalty. As we have seen, the depiction of the Assyrian army in 28:2 echoes Assyrian propaganda. This can be regarded as a case of
uncritical imitation, in a situation when Assyria had demonstrated its terrifying
power in the immediate vicinity of Judah. Still, I think it is possible to apply Bhabhas notion of mimicry here: almost the same, but not quite. In one crucial respect, though, the saying in Isa 28:2 deviates from the pattern of the Assyrian royal
inscriptions: the Assyrian army is placed directly under the authority of YHWH, the
national deity of Judah! The overlord has to obey the Lord. Thus, although these
oracles are far from anti-Assyrian, they would nevertheless seem to carry a subversive potential.
Second Stage: From Mimicry to Mockery
As a consequence of the fall of Samaria in 722 BCE, Judah could no longer be
threatened by this neighbor. However, one threat continued to loom large: Assyria.
Although the fate of Israel might have deterred him from all such attempts, we
know that king Hezekiah joined an anti-Assyrian coalition, possibly assuming that
Assyria would be weakened by internal strife in the wake of Sargons death. As is
Earliest Stages of the Isaiah Tradition and the Neo-Assyrian Prophecies (VTSup 117; Leiden: Brill,
2007), would rather ascribe 7:49a, 8:14, and 17:1b3 to this first stage of the Isaiah tradition.
114
well known, Sennacheribs punitive expedition devastated large parts of Judah.19 In

701 BCE, the Assyrian army was approaching Jerusalem. For some reason, the city
was spared. According to the most plausible explanation, indicated by the annals
of Sennacherib as well as one of the biblical accounts (2 Kgs 18:1416), Hezekiah
was forced to pay considerable amounts of silver and gold. A second group of texts
dealing with Assyria can be related to this event, which takes on a paradigmatic
significance within the book of Isaiah as a whole.20
According to Isa 8:68*, a text that I would place in a transitional stage between the first and the second group, Judah itself will be invaded. Once again, an
invasion by the Assyrian army is depicted in terms of an inundation (v. 7). We are
told that the overflowing waters will keep rising until the flood reaches up to the
neck (v. 8). This can be interpreted as a graphic description of the situation in the
year 701.21 Only Jerusalem, the head (i.e., the capital) of Judah, remained intact.22
Recalling Isa 28:2 (see above), this description of the Assyrian ally-turned-enemy
uses the Assyrian rulers own favorite imagery. It is worth noting that the reference in v. 7 to the king of Assyria in all his splendor ( )seems to be void of
irony.23 Rather, as suggested by Peter Machinist, this expression could allude to a
central concept in Assyrian royal ideology, melammu, denoting the kings divinely
endowed effulgence.24
Yet, also in this case it is stressed that YHWH (rather than Assur or the Assyrian
king) is in control: the Lord ( )is about to bring up against them the mighty
and abundant waters of the River (Isa 8:7). The final word of this oracle is intriguingly ambiguous. Is Immanuel (8:8b) used as a designation of the hopelessly
inferior Judean king? I would rather suggest that this designation (referring to the
entire nation?) expresses the hope of the colonized on the verge of resignation:
God (YHWH) is with us, on our side, despite all signs to the contrary. Thus interpreted, this text illustrates Bhabhas thesis, that the speech of the colonized is
inevitably marked by ambiguity.
19
For an assessment of the archaeological record, see, e.g., Israel Finkelstein, The Archaeology of the Days of Manasseh, in Scripture and Artifacts: Essays on the Bible and Archaeology in Honor of Philip J. King (ed. Michael D. Coogan, J. Cheryl Exum, and Lawrence E. Stager;
Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1994), 169187. Concerning the Shephelah, Finkelstein
states succinctly: The settlement system of the eighth century was virtually annihilated by
Sennacherib (p. 173).
20
21
Cf. Laato, About Zion, 104. With Sweeney, Isaiah 139, 17173, I take the reference to
Rezin and the son of Remaliah in v. 6 as a gloss which ties this prophecy to the historical
context of the preceding passage, 8:14, viz. the Syro-Ephraimite conflict. Arguably, Isa 8:68
makes better sense as a depiction of the situation in 701 BCE.
22
As shown by Isa 7:89, the cross-cultural metaphor the capital is the head of the national body belonged to the repertoire of the Isaianic writers.
23
This phrase is often regarded as a late addition. So, e.g., Joseph Blenkinsopp, Isaiah 1
39: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 19; New York: Doubleday, 2000),
240. However, if this is correct, which means that these words were written at a point when
the Assyrian threat belonged to a distant past, the awe-struck tone is even more remarkable.
24
See Machinist, Assyria, 727.
GRAN EIDEVALL
115
In Isa 10:515, a passage which belongs more firmly to my second group of

texts, the focus shifts from the Assyrian army to an anonymous Assyrian ruler. The
question of his real identity is a moot point. The conquests that are listed in v. 9
were begun by Tiglath-Pileser III and completed some decades later, during the
reign of Sargon. However, the situation evoked by this prophecy, an Assyrian
threat against Jerusalem (vv. 1011), would rather seem to point in the direction of
Sennacherib. Clearly, as observed by Carol Newsom, [t]he words attributed to the
king in Isaiah 10 telescope the achievements of more than one Assyrian king.25
Even more importantly, this anonymous king personifies the oppressive Assyrian
empire.26 At the outset, the mighty emperor is deprived of his dignity. He is pictured as a tool, a rod ( )or staff ( )in the hands of YHWH (v. 5).27 Such
imagery is ambiguous. It may sound respectful, yet it is well suited for daring and
disrespectful discourse, something that becomes evident as the author picks up
this rhetorical tool/weapon again in v. 15, and wields it with force: Should the axe
vaunt itself over the one who hews with it, or the saw magnify itself against the
one who wields it? As if a rod ( )would wield him who lifts it, or as if a staff
( )should lift the one who is not (made of) wood! This is an accusation of hubris. In addition, the rhetorical technique of dehumanization, common in wartime
propaganda, may be at work here.28 Seemingly without a will of his own (and, perhaps significantly, without a name), the foreign king is instrumentalized, reduced to
a tool. The royal scepter (for which Hebrew uses both and , cf. vv. 1 and
15!) has, so to speak, been wrought out of his hand. No longer the wielder (subject),
he is being wielded (object).
In Bhabhas terminology, this is mockery, rather than mere mimicry. Interestingly (but far from surprisingly, in a prophetic book), the foreign ruler is not being
ridiculed by a mortal Judean. These words are instead presented as uttered by the
national deity of Judah, YHWH. In 10:67, YHWH pictures the Assyrian king as disobedient and rebellious, and accuses him of overstepping the limited mandate
which he had been given. According to my analysis, this is a way of describing that
Assyrias role had changed, from a Jerusalemite point of view. Having acted as the
enemys enemy in the 730s, the mighty empire became Judahs enemy during the
invasion which culminated with the (abortive) siege of Jerusalem in 701. In v. 12,
the prophet/author speaks. Here the Assyrian ruler is said to be arrogant. This can
25
Carol Newsom, Gods Other: The Intractable Problem of the Gentile King in Judean
and Early Jewish Literature, in The Other in Second Temple Judaism: Essays in Honor of John J.
Collins (ed. D. C. Harlow et al.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011), 3148; quote on p. 39, n. 17.
26
I disagree slightly with Newsom, Gods Other, 39, as she avers that the kings psyche is . . . the focal issue. In my opinion, the main topic of this text is rather the nature of
Assyrian oppression and exploitation, regardless of the personality of the current ruler.
27
Instrumental metaphors constitute the framework of the text (vv. 5 and 15). One may
speak of an inclusio.
28
116
be seen as a subversive re-use of Assyrian propaganda. In the royal inscriptions, the

enemies of Assyria are regularly described as insubmissive; insolent; proud;
haughty.29 In other words, his own standard reproach against rebels of all kinds is
turned against the Assyrian ruler.
The remainder of Isa 10:115 consists of the kings speech (vv. 811, 1314).
However, he is not allowed to speak with his own voice. These quotations are fictitious, just like the words of the speakers enemies in the Psalms. They serve to
illustrate the allegations. As noted by Newsom, part of what the king says is true:
the cities mentioned in v. 9 had all been captured by the Assyrians.30 In some respects, moreover, this speech recalls common topoi in the Assyrian royal inscriptions. Nevertheless, I suggest that it can be characterized as a piece of parody, in
the service of Judean propaganda. Judging from his boasting monologue, the Assyrian king is not only arrogant and cruel, he is exceedingly greedy, as well. In vv.
1314 he portrays himself as an unrestrained plunderer of birds nests. Arguably,
killing fledglings was not considered a heroic deed. This text may have been composed in 701 BCE, or shortly after, but I would guess that it was written in the latter
part of the 7th century. The memory of Assyrian oppression would still have been
vivid, but there was no longer any reason to be afraid.
A date towards the end of the 7th century, or even later, is commonly posited
for the final example to be considered in the second group of texts dealing with
Assyria: the legendary account of Jerusalems miraculous rescue in the year 701,
which occupies chapters 36 and 37 in the book of Isaiah.31 From a rhetorical perspective, I find this text very interesting, since it describes a propaganda war. It is all
about words. No other weapons are used in this battle over Jerusalem.
The first verbal attack in this drama is delivered by an anonymous Assyrian
official bearing the title rab q (denoting the chief cupbearer; henceforth this
character in the story will be referred to as Rabshakeh). His intimidating speeches may have a factual background. According to Kirk Grayson, the Assyrians came
to prefer psychological warfare whenever it was feasible.32 If diplomacy failed,
they would not immediately launch a military attack. Since a siege could turn out
to be an expensive affair, they would at first surround the city and shout, in an
29
F. M. Fales, The Enemy in the Assyrian Royal Inscriptions: The Moral Judgement,
in Mesopotamien und seine Nachbarn: Politische und kulturelle Wechselbeziehungen im Alten Vorderasien vom 4. bis 1. Jahrtausend v. Chr. (XXV. Rencontre Assyriologique Internationale, Berlin, 3. bis 7.
Juli 1978) (ed. H.-J. Nissen and J. Renger; Berliner Beitrge zum Vorderen Orient 1; Berlin:
Reimer, 1982), 2:42535, quote on p. 428.
30
Newsom, Gods Other, 39.
31
This narrative is also found in 2 Kgs 18:13 + 18:1719:37. Whether it was imported
from the Deuteronomistic History to the book of Isaiah or the other way round is not immediately relevant for the analysis offered here.
32
A. Kirk Grayson, Assyrian Rule of Conquered Territory in Ancient Western Asia, in
Civilizations of the Ancient Near East (ed. Jack Sasson; Peabody: Hendricksons, 2000), 2:95968,
quote on p. 960.
GRAN EIDEVALL
117
attempt to persuade the inhabitants to surrender.33 The response from the Jerusalemite leadership to Rabshakehs first speech is telling: Please speak to your
servants in Aramaic, for we understand it; do not speak to us in the language of
Judah within the hearing of the people who are on the wall (Isa 36:11, NRSV).
Aware of the power of skillfully selected words, they do not want the civil population of the city to listen to such propaganda. Disregarding this appeal, Rabshakeh
continues to address the civilians on the wall, advising them that they should not
listen to Hezekiah (36:1416a).
There is no reason to assume that this text contains accurate reports of actual
speeches.34 Nevertheless, it is evident that the biblical author was familiar with
Assyrian propaganda. The main theme of Rabshakehs first speech (Isa 36:410) is
misplaced trust. Hezekiah and his people should not put their trust in words (v. 5),
or in Egypt (v. 6), they should not even trust YHWH (v. 7). Rather, as emphasized in
the second speech (36:13b20), they should rely on the words of the Assyrian king
(vv. 1617). Interestingly, trust is a central topic in the royal inscriptions. According to Chaim Cohen, the stereotypic phraseology describing the behaviour of
Assyrias enemies and rebellious vassals almost invariably involves the usage of the
verb taklu, to trust.35 Although Rabshakeh appears to be modeled on one or
several real Assyrian officials, I think it is rewarding to treat him as a literary character, created by the biblical author(s) who composed this narrative. As an embodiment of Assyrian propaganda, he is portrayed as far from trustworthy. His claims
are eventually disproved by the denouement of this legend (Isa 37:3638).36 But the
attentive listener or reader may also detect some inconsistencies in his speeches.
To begin with, Rabshakeh speaks condescendingly of Hezekiahs empty words
(Isa 36:5). However, this is apparently all that he himself can offer: words. Further,
his references to the role of YHWH are mutually contradictory. In 36:7, he implies
that YHWH is unwilling to help Hezekiah, since he dislikes his cultic reform (which
involved the removal of altars dedicated to YHWH). He even asserts that YHWH
actively supports Sennacherib in the current conflict (36:10). However, later on, in
36:20, he indicates that YHWH is just like the patron deities of the countries that
had already been conquered by the Assyrian army: powerless, unable to defend his
city and to save his own people. Clearly, Rabshakehs purpose is to persuade the
33
Grayson, Assyrian Rule, 61. It should be noted, though, that Graysons conclusions
are based on rather scarce textual evidence. Possibly, this tactic was used only in a few
exceptional cases.
34
For a thorough analysis of this text, with references to previous research, which supports the conclusion that Rabshakehs speeches were composed much later by a Judean
author, see Ehud Ben Zvi, Who Wrote the Speech of Rabshakeh and When? JBL 109 (1990):
79-92.
35
Chaim Cohen, Neo-Assyrian Elements in the First Speech of the Biblical Rab-q,
IOS 9 (1979): 3248, quote on p. 39.
36
This denouement should of course not be confused with the actual course of events.
Cf. 2 Kgs 18:1416.
118
inhabitants of Jerusalem that it is meaningless to rely on YHWH. But his rhetoric

reveals the hypocrisy behind the high ideals celebrated by the official Assyrian
ideology. Apparently relying on sheer numerical military strength (36:89), he fails
to mention that faith in Assur would be the true key to success. Although professing to be the very opposite of such persons, the Assyrian official speaking in Isaiah
36 seems to fit the following description of Assyrias despicable enemies quite well:
Assyrias enemies trust in their own strength, their mighty walls, their numerous
armies.37
Clearly, then, Rabshakeh is a caricature. Still, this character displays a certain
complexity which goes beyond the simple stereotype. Reading the text from a
postcolonial perspective, I am inclined to see him as an atypical example of cultural hybridity. He is a high Assyrian official, yet he speaks not only Aramaic, but Hebrew as well (Isa 36:11, 13). As might be expected, he is well informed concerning
Assyrias victories in the past (36:1819; cf. 10:9, which is strikingly similar). At the
same time, however, he appears to possess inside knowledge about Judean controversies concerning the cult (36:7). Even more intriguing, and provocative, is his
claim to know the will of YHWH. Indeed, he almost imitates a prophet like Isaiah, as
he purportedly transmits the words spoken by YHWH to Sennacherib: March
against this land, and destroy it (36:10).
More than one interpretation is possible. Is Rabshakeh pictured as a renegade,
a Judean employed by the enemy?38 Does he represent an inner foe of some kind?
Should this character, as suggested by Christof Hardmeier, be understood as an
oppositional YHWH prophet, a Jeremiah or Ezekiel, in disguise?39 I find this hypothesis ingenious, but far-fetched and ultimately implausible.40 The reader has no
compelling reason to question Rabshakehs Assyrian identity. However, on a closer
look this identity turns out to be fuzzy and fluctuating. It contains elements of
hybridity. Possibly coining a new phrase, I suggest that this can be seen as a case of
projected hybridization. In the world of this narrative, Judean identity is construed as
something stable (and seemingly untouched by all kinds of colonizing Assyrian
influence), whereas the attackers/colonizers cultural identity is described (by
means of a kind of projection) as being more fluid.
So far, the analysis of Isaiah 3637 has mainly dealt with Rabshakehs rhetoric,
and his role in the drama. Something should also be said about other aspects of
this narrative. King Hezekiah can be seen as an incarnation of certain ideals associated with resistance against the mighty empire(s). Firm in his belief in YHWH, he
listens to his prophet, Isaiah, and he prays (37:120). As regards the concluding
speech in this propaganda war, delivered by the prophet, a few comments may
Cohen, Neo-Assyrian, 41.
Cf. Cohen, Neo-Assyrian, 47, who maintains that his own investigation corroborates
a theory put forward by Tadmor, concerning the possible Aramean or perhaps even Israelite ultimate ethnic origin of this particular Rab-q.
39
See Christof Hardmeier, Prophetie im Streit vor dem Untergang Judas: Erzhlkommunikative
Studien zur Entstehungssituation der Jesaja- und Jeremiaerzhlungen in II Reg 18-20 und Jer 37-40
(BZAW 187; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1990), 32199.
40
37
38
GRAN EIDEVALL
119
suffice, since the analysis that was made of Isa 10:515 (see above) is largely applicable also here. This is another instance of mockery, or of the subgenre divine
mockery of a foreign king. However, there are several differences between Isa
10:515 and 37:21b29. In the latter text, the foreign king is named (Sennacherib).
We are told that the one who scorns him is daughter Zion, a personification of
the city and its inhabitants, but the derisive words are apparently uttered by the
national deity via his mouthpiece. Moreover, this is explicitly described as a case of
rhetorical retaliation, as counter-mockery (vv. 2324). A different kind of imagery is
deployed. Instead of the instrument metaphors used in chapter 10, the Assyrian
king is now portrayed as an unruly beast of burden (37:29b). He is allowed to have
a will of his own, but this is exactly what turns out to be the problem since he is
disobedient to YHWH. Thus, the main accusation remains the same: arrogance (v.
29a). This allegation is exemplified by an inserted quotation (vv. 2425), where
Sennacherib brags about his achievements.
Interestingly, the biblical author demonstrates that s/he is (somehow) well informed concerning the contents of Assyrian royal inscriptions. Thus, one recognizes a central topos from that genre, the journey to the west for wood, often
taking the form of tree-felling expeditions in the mountain regions of Lebanon.41
Sennacherib, on the other hand, is pictured as ignorant, at least when it comes to
the achievements of YHWH (vv. 2628). According to the pieces of Judean counterpropaganda which I have placed in my second group of texts (10:515; 3637, and
especially 37:21b29), all Assyrian kings are, metaphorically speaking, unwitting
instruments and/or unwilling animals, to be controlled by YHWH.
Third Stage: Propagandistic Pictures, Moving Away from Ambiguity
In the third group of texts, linked to what seems to be the final stage in the
development of the image of Assyria, a new element is introduced: the downfall of
the empire. These texts are less ambiguous than those discussed above, and more
overtly propagandistic. While some of these passages (in the first place 10:1619
and 14:2427) may belong to an expansion and redaction of the Isaianic collection
which took place during the reign of Josiah,42 others could be even later. In Isa
10:1619, Assyrias downfall is depicted with the help of two intertwined metaphors: an infectious disease and a devastating forest fire (cf. the tree-felling motif
in 37:24). According to Isa 14:2427 (esp. vv. 2425), Assyria will be defeated by
YHWH alone. At least, no other agents are mentioned, as it is declared that YHWH
41
See Machinist, Assyria, 723.

Thus H. Barth, Die Jesaja-Worte in der Josiazeit: Israel und Assur als Thema einer produktiven
Neuinterpretation der Jesajaberlieferung (WMANT 48; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener, 1977),
esp. 34, 11719, and Ronald E. Clements, Isaiah 139 (NCBC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans 1980), 5
6, 113, 146.
42
120
has resolved to crush Assyria in my land, and trample it/him down on my mountain (v. 25a). One may of course conjecture that this should be carried out by, say,
the Babylonian army or the Medes. However, the place for the battle would seem
to be Zion (my mountain). Thus, the scenery evoked has more in common with
the legendary account in Isa 37:3637 than with the events that actually led to the
downfall of Nineveh. As a consequence of this decisive battle, it is stated that his
yoke will be lifted from the shoulders of the people of Judah (v. 25b).
The yoke metaphor was probably conventional within Hebrew tradition already when this text was written. Still, it is possible (but not necessary) to interpret
this as a subversive response to Assyrian propaganda. In the royal annals, the
subordination of other peoples, including their obligation to pay tributes, is often
described with the phrase I imposed upon them my yoke.43 A similar use of the
yoke motif appears at the end of another text which celebrates the liberation from
Assyrian oppression, viz. Isa 10:2427a. In the opening line of this prophecy, the
rod and staff metaphors from 10:5 recur. However, in 10:24, these tools are weapons in the hands of the Assyrians. Because of the rich intertextual ramifications,
including allusions to the exodus tradition, I surmise that this prophecy was composed in retrospect, in the post-exilic period.
A late date is likely also in the case of Isa 30:2733, the last text to be considered in the third group. The gruesome (but allegedly well-deserved) end of the
Assyrians (or: of the Assyrian king, the text can be read in both ways) in the flames
is accompanied by music and dance. The attitude in this text is perhaps best described as gloating. It almost transcends the limits of what could pass as political
propaganda. Possibly, Assyria in 30:2733 stands as a code name for a later empire (Persia or the Seleucid empire), or for some apocalyptic foe.44
EGYPTIAN INTERLUDE: THE HELPLESS HELPER

Several passages in the book of Isaiah contain images of Egypt. However, in
most cases it is not possible to link the contents of the text to the short period (ca
609605 BCE) during the first part of Jehoiakims reign (and possibly at the end of
Josiahs reign?), when Judah was an Egyptian vassal state.
In Isaiah 20, the reference is clearly to an earlier period, when Egypt was ruled
by a dynasty from Cush (the 25th dynasty). This era came to an end as Assyria established control over Egypt in the 670s BCE. Whereas the oldest layer of chapter 19
(vv. 115) might be associated with this brief period of Assyrian domination (see v.
4), the five additions which constitute the latter half of chapter 19 (vv. 1617 // 18 //
1922 // 23 // 2425) are commonly dated to the post-exilic period.45 Only one oracle, 7:1819, would seem to reflect a situation when Judah was actually threatened
43
See Machinist, Assyria, 86. Cf. CAD A/1, 6566, s.v. abnu as well as N/2, 26064, s.v.
nru A.
In other words, these oracles should probably be dated to the Persian or, perhaps
even more likely, the Hellenistic era. See Blenkinsopp, Isaiah 139, 31719.
44
45
GRAN EIDEVALL
121
by Egypt. However, because this text speaks of two armies, the Egyptian and the
Assyrian, invading the land of Judah from two sides (in collision or collusion?) this
likely refers to the political situation that prevailed before 614 BCE.46
If one disregards the allusions to the exodus tradition that are scattered
throughout the book, the remaining references to Egypt (Isa 30:15; 31:13; 36:6)
are variations on a particular theme, viz. unreliability. According to the book of
Isaiah, it is futile and foolish to rely on help from Egypt. The image of this formerly
mighty empire as a helpless helper is most likely based on experience. In fact, this
is a common denominator between the capture of Samaria in 722 BCE and the definitive defeat of Jerusalem in 586: Despite promises to assist their allies (Israel and
Judah, respectively), the Egyptian army never arrived. At the same time, this portrayal of Egypt as weak and unreliable is reminiscent of Assyrian propaganda.
Discussing the phrase that broken reed () , which is used about
Egypt in Rabshakehs first speech (Isa 36:6), Cohen notes that Assyrian kings regularly used strikingly similar imagery when they referred to defeated enemies.47 He
concludes that [t]here would hardly be a more appropriate way for a NeoAssyrian official to denounce the worthlessness of trusting in an ally whom Assyria
had defeated many times in the past.48
Especially if, as seems likely, the legend in chapters 3637 was composed subsequent to Assyrias (temporary and partial) conquest of Egypt around 670 BCE, the
broken reed metaphor can be seen as an authentic ingredient in Rabshakehs
speech. This observation, I suggest, attests further to the fundamental hybridity of
the book of Isaiah, exemplified in its ambiguous attitude to Assyria. As the text
ridicules one empire (Egypt), it virtually echoes the official rhetoric of another
(Assyria).
BABYLON: ANTIPATHY AND AMBIVALENCE

From a strictly historical point of view, there is a risk of overstating the element of continuity between the Assyrian empire and its successor, the NeoBabylonian empire. It has been demonstrated by Vanderhooft that Nebuchadnezzars policy toward subjugated regions differed considerably from the Assyrian
mode of domination and exploitation.49 Thus, the Babylonians did not build up an
efficient local administration in order to integrate Judah (or the adjacent regions)
See Eidevall, Prophecy, 3132.

48
49
See David S. Vanderhooft, Babylonian Strategies of Imperial Control in the West:
Royal Practice and Rhetoric, in Judah and the Judeans in the Neo-Babylonian Period (ed. O.
Lipschits and J. Blenkinsopp; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2003), 23562. Cf. also idem, The NeoBabylonian Empire and Babylon in the Latter Prophets (HSM 59; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1999).
46
47
122
into their empire, as the Assyrians had done. On the level of ideology and propaganda, it seems to be the case that Nebuchadnezzar struggled . . . to distance
himself from the rhetoric of the Neo-Assyrian kings.50 However, the reader of the
book of Isaiah gets another impression. The Babylonian empire seems to be quite
similar to its Assyrian precursor, the main difference being that it is even more
cruel and oppressive.
The taunt song in Isa 14:4b21 is a case in point. As an instance of antiimperial mockery, it can be compared to two passages in the book that are directed
against an Assyrian ruler, namely, 10:515 and 37:21b29 (see above). According to
several scholars, the song in 14:4b21 was indeed originally about an Assyrian king,
most probably Sargon or Sennacherib.51 This hypothesis is based on the following
observations. Throughout the song, the tyrant remains anonymous. However,
some features, such as the staff and rod (or scepter) metaphors in v. 5, would seem
to indicate that he is Assyrian (cf. 10:5, 15). While the poem seems to allude to
Canaanite mythology (vv. 1214), the reader searches in vain for a reference to
anything that would be typically Babylonian. In fact, the identification of the fallen
tyrant as a Babylonian ruler is provided by the framework (which might be secondary): the introduction in vv. 34a (v. 4a, then you shall take up this taunt song
about the king of Babylon) and the ensuing oracle in vv. 2223. It is thus possible
that a poetic piece of anti-Assyrian propaganda was reapplied and directed against
a Babylonian king (most probably Nebuchadnezzar) in the wake of the Babylonian
capture of Jerusalem. Alternatively, the original composition referred to Babylonia. On either account, the continuity between these two Mesopotamian empires is
foregrounded. This can perhaps be seen as a case of projected mimicry. In his high
aspirations, the Babylonian king is pictured as trying hard to imitate Assyrian role
models.
The main theme of Isa 14:4b21 is the descent of the ruler, all the way from
heaven to Sheol (vv. 915), a downfall foreboded by his hubris (vv. 915). In the
remaining passages dealing with Babylonia (13:122; 21:110; 47:115), the theme is
rather the downfall of the empire, or more specifically of the city of Babylon. Before discussing those texts, I would like to call attention to what is missing. There
are no positive or neutral depictions of Babylon in the book of Isaiah. This empire,
as opposed to Assyria (8:4; 10:56), is not endowed with a mission. Whereas the
book of Jeremiah (at least the MT version) pictures Nebuchadnezzar as a servant of
YHWH,52 the book of Isaiah never speaks of Babylon acting as a servant or instrument of their own national deity. Why? I believe this has to do with the Zioncentered ideology entertained by the Isaianic authors and editors. Having de-
Vanderhooft, Babylonian Strategies, 248.

Thus, e.g., Sweeney, Isaiah 139, 23233. See also the discussion in Blenkinsopp, Isaiah
139, 28687.
52
Jer 21:110; 27:111. See further John Hill, Friend or Foe? The Figure of Babylon in the Book
of Jeremiah (BibIntSup 40; Leiden: Brill 1999), 7582, 10611, 12759. For an insightful discussion of Nebuchadnezzars role according to the LXX and MT versions of Jeremiah, see also
Newsom, Gods Other, 4143. Cf. also Ezek 29:18-20.
50
51
GRAN EIDEVALL
123
stroyed and defiled the temple in Jerusalem, the Babylonians could not receive any
honorary titles.
With regard to their uncompromising attitude, all texts dealing with Babylon
would seem to correspond closely to the third group of texts dealing with Assyria.
In Prophecy and Propaganda I stated that Babylonia is depicted as the evil empire
par excellence and as the prototypical enemy of Judah and YHWH.53 However, I also
noted signs of ambivalence in some passages dealing with Babylon. As I set out to
reread these passages in a perspective informed by Homi Bhabhas theories, such
ambiguities seem to take on a new significance.
In Isaiah 13, the downfall of Babylon is pictured as the climax of a divine campaign against evil in the human world (13:11). However, some formulations recall
the genre of city laments. In 13:19, Babylon is referred to as the jewel among
kingdoms () . Read in isolation, this sounds like a piece of panegyric.
Within context, though, it becomes ironical, since this glorious city will become
destroyed and desolate like Sodom and Gomorrah. Nonetheless, the notion of
beauty is evoked. The reader is reminded of the architectural masterpieces that
made Babylon famous. Although the text describes the fate of Babylon as welldeserved, it cannot help deploring the destruction that it imagines. In a similar
way, the description of acts of brutality against civilians, such as the rape of women and the murder of infants, performed by the (allegedly) ruthless Medes (vv. 16
18), might evoke feelings of sympathy for the population in Babylon. But this text
appears to oscillate between empathy and Schadenfreude, between lament and
desire for revenge. It is thus possible to interpret these horrifying features in the
text also in a diametrically opposite way. Because the Babylonians ravished and
killed women and children in Jerusalem, they will have to suffer exactly the same
atrocities (cf. Ps 137:8-9).
In a way, I suggest, Babylon can be seen as a mirror of Judah. A basic equality is
asserted, despite all appearances. Especially within parts of Isaiah 4055, the capital cities of these two nations, Jerusalem and Babylon, can be regarded as a strange
pair of twin sisters. They are dissimilar in many respects (exemplified in 47:1115
by Babylonian interest and expertise in astronomy/astrology and various forms of
divination), yet they are similar. In 47:1, the city of Babylon is addressed as virgin
daughter Babylon. This echoes the epithet virgin daughter Zion (Isa 37:21; cf.
also 52:2). Somehow, the fates of these two metaphorical women are interrelated.
The humiliation of the city of Babylon (who is pictured in 47:15 as a queen who
ends up as an abused slave girl) is regarded as a precondition for the restoration of
Zion.54 When the mother of many children (Babylon) has become a bereaved

See C. Franke, Reversals of Fortune in the Ancient Near East: A Study of the Babylon
Oracles in the Book of Isaiah, in New Visions of Isaiah (ed. R. F. Melugin and M. A. Sweeney;
JSOTSup 214; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1996), 10423, esp. 119.
53
54
124
widow (47:89), the other woman (Jerusalem) can be transformed from a childless
divorcee/widow into a happy wife, blessed with children (50:1; 54:18).
As a whole, and especially in the part called Deutero-Isaiah, the book of Isaiah
is uncompromisingly anti-Babylonian. Arguably, though, the images of Babylon are
never completely free from ambivalence.
PERSIA: SILENT CONSENT OR SUPPRESSED OPPOSITION?

According to what I take to be the majority opinion among scholars, the final
major edition of the book of Isaiah took place during the Persian era (this position
does, however, not preclude the possibility that further additions were made
throughout the Hellenistic era). Yet the Persian empire is not mentioned in this
prophetic book. Arguably, this silence speaks volumes.55 But whereof does it speak?
I can see two main alternatives.
On the one hand, it is possible that the post-monarchic writers and editors
supported Persia. They may even have been convinced that the Persian world
dominion was authorized by their own deity, and that it was YHWHs will that Judah
should end up as Yehud, a tiny little province within that vast empire. Just like the
author of Ezra 7:26, they may have tended to regard the law of your God (YHWH)
and the law of the king (of Persia) as more or less synonymous concepts. Members of the educated elite in Jerusalem, and in particular groups closely linked to
the Second Temple, would have had their reasons to be loyal to their Persian overlords, and it is likely that the editors of Isaiah belonged to such an elite group.
After all, the Persian authorities had sponsored the building of the temple.
As a rule, prophecies are elicited by crises. If there was no crisis, why prophesy? If Persia did not pose any problem, why mention this empire in a prophetic
book edited during the Persian era? That could be one way of explaining the conspicuous silence. The hypothesis that the editors were members of a pro-Persian
group finds further support in the famous Cyrus oracle in Deutero-Isaiah (Isa
44:2445:13).56 According to this text, which may have originated shortly before or
after Cyruss triumphant entry into Babylon, this Persian general was elected by
YHWH, and his mission was to rebuild Jerusalem: He is my shepherd, and he shall
carry out all my purpose (Isa 44:28, NRSV). As if this was not enough, Cyrus is referred to as his anointed/Messiah ( )in 45:1, although he himself is said to
be unaware of his relation to YHWH (45:4).57 This astonishing designation could
have served as a hermeneutical key for post-monarchic readers of the book of
Isaiah. As we have seen, the anonymous Assyrian king in Isa 10:515 could stand
for all Assyrian rulers, just like Sennacherib in chapters 3637. By the same token,
55
For a discussion of the conspicuous silence regarding Persia in large parts of the Hebrew Bible, informed by postcolonial theory, see Berquist, Postcolonialism, 22.
56
For a more detailed, but in many ways different, discussion of the political implications of the Cyrus oracle, and several other related passages in Deutero-Isaiah, see Joseph
Blenkinsopps contribution to this volume.
57
Cf. Newsom, Gods Other, 4445.
GRAN EIDEVALL
125
Cyrus in 44:2445:13 could stand for all Persian rulers. They would then all be regarded as appointed, and anointed, by YHWH. One may add the reflection that the
palpable anti-Babylonian tendency of the book would be entirely consonant with a
profoundly pro-Persian attitude.
On the other hand, the silence regarding Persia could indicate ambivalence toward this empire. To begin with, the Cyrus oracle can be regarded as applying to
Cyrus personally, in his (alleged) capacity as liberator and temple-founder. He was
the one who put an end to the Neo-Babylonian empire in 528 BCE, and this could be
seen as a kind of revenge for what happened in 586. Hence, he could be given the
honorary title Messiah. However, Cyrus is not referred to as a Persian general, or
king, in Isa 44:2445:13. There is thus no reason to extend the notion of divine
election to his successors on the throne. Such a reading of the Cyrus oracle opens
up for an alternative explanation of the books silence concerning Persia, in terms
of suppressed opposition.
There has never existed such a thing as an entirely benevolent and nonoppressive empire. Persia was by no means an exception. The imperial order had
to be maintained. The tributes had to be paid. In Nehemiah 9, toward the end of a
lengthy prayer uttered by Ezra, it seems that we get a rare glimpse of a voice that
is otherwise suppressed in large parts of the Hebrew Bible, a voice speaking of
Persian domination experienced as oppression: Here we are, slaves to this day
slaves in the land that you gave to our ancestors to enjoy its fruit and its good gifts.
Its rich yield goes to the kings whom you have set over us because of our sins
(Neh 9:3637a, NRSV).58 This critique against the Persians is, at most, indirect. It is
part of a prayer, the immediate context speaks of repentance, the foreign rulers
are seen as appointed by YHWH, and Persia is not explicitly mentioned. Still, this
complaint must be understood as referring to hardships suffered under Persian
dominion.
Arguably, fear of retaliation may have stopped the Jewish intellectuals, including the prophets and scribes editing prophetic books, from speaking up openly
against the foreign oppressors of their own day. In such a situation, it is likely that
parts of the population will seek to express their opinion by means of what Scott
has called hidden transcripts, that is, disguised forms of public dissent.59 One of the
strategies adopted by the dissenters would be anonymity (including the use of
pseudonyms).60 Clearly, the editors of the book of Isaiah chose to remain anonymous. But the principle of anonymity/pseudonymity can be applied to the object
of opposition, in this case the Persian empire, as well. For instance, the utterance
in Isa 33:1 may have been composed in the 5th or 4th century, as an accusation
58
On the implications of this quotation, cf. Daniel L. Smith-Christopher, Abolitionist
Exegesis: A Quaker Proposal for White Liberals, in Still at the Margins (ed. R. S. Sugirtharajah;
London: T & T Clark, 2008), 137.
59
60
126
against Persia:61 Ah, you destroyer, who yourself have not been destroyed; you
treacherous one, with whom no one has dealt treacherously! When you have
ceased to destroy, you will be destroyed; and when you have stopped dealing
treacherously, you will be dealt with treacherously (NRSV). Moreover, several
oracles addressing Assyria or Babylon could easily have been applied to Persia. In
at least one case, Isa 30:2733, an ostentatiously anti-Assyrian prophecy may
even have originated in the Persian era, employing Assyria as a code name for
the actual oppressor: Persia.62
Summing up so far, the book of Isaiah expresses a whole range of attitudes to
empires, from loyalty to opposition, from mimicry to mockery. The reader comes
across several divergent (and hardly reconcilable) images and perspectives. Apparently, the reader is free to choose between these perspectives, as s/he seeks a
strategy in a specific situation: Is this particular empire elected by YHWH? Can it be
seen as an instrument in his hand, or should it rather be denounced as an arrogant
enemy deserving to be punished for his hubris? Is this an utterly evil empire
doomed to destruction?
Although the book of Isaiah contains a variety of different perspectives on
empires, it is perhaps possible to say something more definite about the opinion of
the final editors on this topic. In the concluding section of this paper, I examine
the macrostructure of Isaiah 166, with special attention to the compositional
framework, in order to elucidate the perspective of the redactors.
A MACROSTRUCTURAL VIEW: EMPIRE REJECTED AND REAFFIRMED

Composed and edited during centuries characterized by imperialist domination, the book of Isaiah is itself to a large extent dominated by empiresor, to be
more precise, by discourse related to empires. However, the book begins and ends
on a different note, focusing on Jerusalem and Judah. While the first references to
named empires are found in chapter 7 (vv. 17, 1820: Assyria and Egypt), the last
one occurs in 48:20 (Babylon). In other words, the entire section preceding the
pivotal chapter 6, with its report of a vision and a calling experience, is completely
void of such references.63 The same holds for the last eighteen chapters.
61
See Wildberger, Jesaja 3: Jesaja 2839 (BKAT 10/3; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener,
1982), 128788.
62
Alternatively, Assyria is here a code name for the Seleucid empire. Cf. Eidevall,
Prophecy, 63. Arguments for a post-exilic dating have been adduced by Blenkinsopp, Isaiah 1
39, 42324. See further the brief analysis of Isa 30:2733 above, in the section dealing with the
third stage in the development of the image of Assyria.
63
Cf. Christopher Begg, Babylon in the Book of Isaiah, in The Book of Isaiah / Le livre
dIsae: Les oracles et leurs relectures, unit et complexit de louvrage (ed. J. Vermeylen; BETL 81;
Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1989), 12125, esp. 124. It is commonly assumed that Isa
5:2629 originated as a depiction of an Assyrian army. Quite possibly, the anonymity which
characterizes this passage is due to its position within the overall structure of the book. See
further Eidevall, Prophecy, 2628, 175.
GRAN EIDEVALL
127
If chapters 7 through 48 relate Judahs history under the empires, the enlarged editorial framework of this prophetic book, comprising the introductory
section (chs. 15) and the concluding chapters (4966), tells quite another story.
Even though Judah is constantly threatened by other nations, the identity of the
attackers and colonizers seems to be of minor importance (cf. Isa 1:78; 3:14:1;
5:13, 2629). Sooner or later they are bound to fall, all of them. Judah and YHWH will
take revenge on their enemies, symbolized by Edom (63:16). In the end, the motif
of foreign armies surrounding Jerusalem (7:1; 29:18; 31:45; 3637) will be transformed into a picture of peaceful pilgrimage. From all parts of the world people
will travel to Zion, seeking wisdom and bringing material goods (2:25; 60:114).
That seems to be the message of the editorial framework of the book of Isaiah.
One might also attempt to deduce a message, transmitted through a kind of
hidden transcript, from the macrostructure of Isaiah 166. The overall arrangement,
I suggest, indicates a certain worldview which we might call proto-apocalyptic.
According to this view, the history of the world is thought to follow a divine plan.
No political powers last forever. Empires rise, but ultimately they are destined to fall.
This applies to Assyria (cf. the three stages in the Isaianic depiction of Assyria
outlined above) and Babyloniaand by implication, also to Persia! They will be
forgotten, and their names will be erased. As history reaches its ultimate goal,
YHWH will create a new world, the new heavens and the new earth, which I will
make (Isa 66:22, NRSV).
It is important to notice the nationalist and partisan character of this seemingly universalist vision. After centuries of vassalage, the reader is told, freedom
will prevail. Free at last, free from all empires! But those passages that seem to
undermine all empires are not free from imperialist ideology. This can, I suggest,
be seen as a consequence of the cultural hybridity of the final editors. The fundamental tenets of imperial propaganda were inscribed in their own worldview.
Instead of denouncing the very rhetoric of domination and subjugation, of center
and periphery, the editors reproduced it, but for their own purposes. In their brave
new world, Jerusalem is the self-evident center. There will be a steady influx of
tributes to the city (60:114), and all enemies will be defeated, in a perpetual repetition of the legendary account of the defeat of the Assyrians in 701 BCE (Isa 66:24;
cf. 37:36).
SUMMARY
Does the book of Isaiah uphold or undermine empire? As adumbrated in the
introduction, it is not possible to give a short and simple answer to that question.
Reading the relevant texts from a perspective informed by postcolonial theory, I
have demonstrated that this prophetic book contains a variety of attitudes towards
empires, ranging from loyalty to fierce opposition or outright mockery. In the case
of Assyria, it seems possible to trace several stages of diachronic development,
128
related to shifting political situations. Sometimes the texts show signs of mimicry.
On the whole, the book of Isaiah is characterized by a high degree of ambivalence
towards the great empires.
On the macrostructural level, however, the message of the book of Isaiah can
be seen as far from ambiguous. According to this vision (cf. 1:1) in its entirety,
Judah/Yehud, that petty nation/province downtrodden by a series of mighty overlords, will eventually, and with the help of the divine overlord YHWH, become an
empire (cf. 66:624): the empire that strikes back.
7
The Theological Politics of Deutero-Isaiah1
Joseph Blenkinsopp
COPING WITH CATASTROPHE

Those of us who have never had to live through a catastrophic situation will
find it hard to imagine what life was like for the survivors in Judah in the autumn
and winter of 586 BCE. The murder and mayhem, destruction of property, loss of
the public institutions which sustained communal living, the monarchy in the first
place, created a situation of extreme deprivation, disorientation, numbness and
anomie. People had to fall back for survival on whatever resources were still
available in the household and kinship network to which they belonged. Sooner or
later questions about why it happened and who was responsible would be raised,
and sooner or later such questions would be directed at their ancestral deity who
neither slumbered nor slept in protecting his people, his city Jerusalem, and the
house of David, and yet had singly failed to do so. Something like this happens in
all comparable situations, but in this instance the questioning would have been
rendered more insistent by the religious reforms carried out a few years earlier
during Josiahs reign with their heavy concentration on political and religious
centralization.
Such questioning is implicit in practically all the biblical texts from the exilic
period. Our concern is with the fate of the dynasty on which the whole apparatus
of public life depended, and with whatever options were available after it had been
extinguished. But before addressing that issue directly, it will be useful to take in
1
This paper corresponds to chapter four of David Remembered: Kingship and National
Identity in Ancient Israel (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013), 5470, reprinted by kind permission
of the publisher; all rights reserved.
129
130
the larger picture by presenting a rough sketch of the range of response to the
disaster reflected in texts from that time.
One option was to simply reject the official Yahweh alone orthodoxy.
Following on the assassination of Gedaliah about four years after the fall of
Jerusalem, some of the surviving military leaders and many of the ordinary people
sought refuge in Egypt from the anticipated Babylonian reprisals, taking a
protesting Jeremiah with them (2 Kgs 25:2526; Jer 41:143:7). After settling in the
garrison town of Tahpanhes (Daphne, today Tell Defneh), they were once again
reminded by Jeremiah in a typical jeremiad that the disaster recently visited on
them had come about on account of their addiction to cults other than that of
Yahweh (Jer 44:114). This time, however, the prophets listeners, both men and
women, rejected Jeremiahs explanation of the disaster in the most peremptory
manner. On the contrary, they insisted, responsibility lay with those, including
Jeremiah himself, who had tried to persuade them to abandon the cult of the
Queen of Heaven. The veneration of this goddess, they claimed, had been an
essential element in public and private religious practice in Judah at all times and
with all categories of the population since the beginning.2 The abandonment of her
cult is the real reason, they told him, why we find ourselves in this miserable
situation. The women concluded by stating their determination to continue
making offerings and libations to the Queen of Heaven and venerating her image.3
What we have here, then, is an alternative explanation for the disaster of 586 BCE.
So much for the religious reforms of Josiah and his supporters! But what
happened in Egypt was not an isolated incident. Even before the final catastrophe,
the image of the goddess, ejected from the temple precincts by Josiahs reform
party (2 Kgs 23:4, 6-7), found its way back there about three decades later as we
read in Ezekiels visionary tour of the temple (Ezek 8:56). A post-disaster literary
stratum of Isaiah also testifies to the impact of disaster on the revival in Judah of
chthonic cults together with the veneration of the goddess (Isa 1:29; 57:313;
66:17). There is even a denunciation of the cult of deities presiding over fate,
fortune, or chance (Isa 65:11), an anticipation of the Greek moira. This is a by no
means unfamiliar reaction to disaster and the loss of a sense of control and
meaning which major disasters tend to induce.4
2
The identity of this malkat hamayim (the original vocalization, cf. LXX, Jer 51:17,
) is uncertain. Similar titles are borne by the Assyrian Itar (malkat
amm; e.g. VAS 10 213: 8) and the West Semitic Anat (blt mm; KTU 1.108:7), but the goddess
Aerah, so prominent throughout Israelite and Judean history, cannot be excluded. See
Cornelis Houtman, Queen of Heaven, DDD: 67880.
3
This is one of the very rare occasions in the Hebrew Bible where women are heard
speaking on the subject of religion.
4
The deities Gad and Mn are rendered in LXX by and
, respectively; Vulg.
has only one name: Fortuna. On these deities see S. David Sperling, Meni Fortune, DDD:
56668; Joseph Blenkinsopp, Isaiah 5666: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary
(AB 19B; New York: Doubleday, 2003), 27879. A parallel instance is the deal with death
contracted by the Judean leadership faced with terminal danger from Assyria towards the
end of the eighth century BCE, and denounced in Isa 28:1422. Recourse to necromancy and
JOSEPH BLENKINSOPP
131
Those who chose not to follow the example of their fellow Judeans in Egypt,
and who in their grief and perplexity remained faithful to Yahweh and the
ancestral traditions, would sooner or later have felt obliged to justify their choice
to themselves as well as to those, within and outside of their own community, who
were asking Where now is your god? (Ps 42:4; 115:2). Much of the writing which
has survived from the post-disaster period addresses this question in one way or
another. It is especially in evidence in the re-reading and re-editing of the sayings
of prophets, especially those who passed judgment on the religious infidelity of
their contemporaries. An example from the Assyrian period may be mentioned.
Among the diverse kinds of material in the book named for Amos, active in the
middle decades of the eighth century BCE, is a brief gnomic poem about the
necessity and ineluctability of prophecy:
Do two walk together unless they have made an appointment?
Does a lion roar in the forest when it has no prey?
Does a young lion cry out from its den when it has caught nothing?
Does a bird fall into a snare on the earth when there is no trap for it?
Does a snare spring up from the ground when it has taken nothing?
Is a trumpet blown in a city and the people are not afraid?
Does disaster befall a city unless Yahweh has brought it about?
[Surely Yahweh God does nothing without revealing his secret to his servants the
prophets]
The lion has roared, who will not fear?
Yahweh God has spoken, who will not prophesy? (Amos 3:38)
The seventh in the list of rhetorical questions which make up the poem has
provoked an interpretative scribal comment in the following verse (in brackets)
which, while assuming the required affirmative answer, goes on to observe that, if
that is so, Yahweh God always warns of impending and avoidable disaster, and
therefore is free of blame. Since his servants the prophets is the standard postdisaster Deuteronomistic term for the prophetic succession,5 the stricken city is
Jerusalem, and on account of the fact that the disaster awaiting it was announced
in advance by Yahwehs prophetic servants, places the blame where it belongs:
with the people and their rulers. It therefore at the same time absolves Yahweh
from the charge of injustice and caprice.6
The same conclusion is reached by a more direct route in the concluding
paragraph of Hosea addressed to the reader of the book. The language and idiom
the occult is a well-attested phenomenon at times of catastrophe. See my Judahs Covenant
with Death (Isaiah xviii 1422), VT 50 (2000): 47283.
5
2 Kgs 9:7; 17:13, 23; 21:10; 24:2; also in passages in Jeremiah attributable to a Deuteronomistic editor: Jer 7:25; 25:4; 26:5; 29:19; 35:15; 44:4.
6
This solution to the problem of theodicy arising from the disaster of 586 BCE is already
apparent in Dtrs comment on the extinction of the Kingdom of Samaria in 722 BCE: Yahweh
warned Israel and Judah by every prophet and every seer . . . but they would not listen; they
acted stubbornly like their ancestors . . . therefore Yahweh was angry with Israel and
removed them out of his sight (2 Kgs 17:13-20).
132
have persuaded practically all commentators that it was appended to the book
during the time of the Second Temple:7
Let the wise understand these matters, and let the judicious acknowledge them.
The ways of Yahweh are straight, and the righteous walk in them, while sinners
stumble in them. (14:10)
The message is addressed especially to those troubled by Hoseas repeated

affirmation about the responsibility of Yahweh for putting an end to the Kingdom
of Samaria. Rather than setting out to prove that this decision of Yahweh was
morally justified, the scribe who added the injunction simply asserts that while the
justice and wisdom of divine action will be self-evident to the wise and upright, the
acceptance of this self-evident truth is obscured and hindered by an immoral way
of life. Ezekiel appears to make a similar point in replying to the complaint that
the way (i.e., conduct) of Yahweh is not right and just (Ezek 18:25).8 Ezekiel
rejects this charge only after refuting the idea of intergenerational moral
responsibility implicit in the complaint that his contemporaries were being
punished for the sins of their forebears. He does this by means of the case history
of a three-generational family: a righteous grandfather, a violent and immoral son,
a grandson who does not follow his fathers exampleconcluding with a statement
of individual moral accountability: whether you are righteous or wicked depends
on you alone, not on your parents and antecedents. Only the one who sins dies;
moral accountability is not intergenerational (Ezek 18:124). More directly
relevant to the debate about the morality of divine action, however, is Ezekiels
case history of a landJudah, for exampledevastated by the disasters of famine,
wild animals, the sword, and pestilence (Ezek 14:1223). He concludes that even if
Noah, Daniel and Job, those three models of wisdom and righteousness from
ancient times, were living in that land, they would save no one but themselves, not
even their immediate family members, by virtue of their righteousness (Ezek
14:1223).9
7
On the language of Hos 14:10the ways of Yahweh () , the stumbling of the
wicked and rebellious (verbal stem ), and the frequent contrast between the righteous
( )and the wicked ()cf. Prov 10:29; 24:16. A. A. Macintosh (A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Hosea [ICC; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1997], 583) draws the conclusion
that by the time of its composition in the post-exilic period the book of Hosea had become to
all intents and purposes Scripture.
8
Not right and just is an attempt to translate . The way of the Lord is unfair
(NRSV) seems to be too weak, as if the Lord is not playing according to the rules; The Lord
acts without principle (REB) is stronger but perhaps not strong enough; unprincipled is
not the same as unjust.
9
In this respect Ezekiel appears to differ from the author of the dialogue between
Abraham and Yahweh about Yahwehs decision to destroy Sodom in Gen 18:2233. That this
dialogue is a late addition to the narrative from a time after the fall of Jerusalem has often
been argued since Julius Wellhausen, Die Composition des Hexateuchs und der historischen Bcher
des Alten Testaments (4th ed.; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1963), 2536. See, for example, Claus
Westermann (Genesis [Neukirchen: Neukirchener Verlag, 1979], 34748, 352), who attributes
JOSEPH BLENKINSOPP
133
As to what extent these debates among the literati reflected discussion and
self-questioning among the Judean public we can only guess. At any rate, life had
to go on even in the aftermath of tragedy and disaster. The survivors would have
put their lives back together as best they could, as their forebears did after the
ravages of the Assyrian army under Sennacherib a little more than a century
earlier. We have no information on how Judah was governed during the remaining
forty-three years of Babylonian rule. Mindful of the recent history of rebellion, the
imperial overlord would probably have given up any further attempt at proxy rule
through local officials, and would therefore have appointed a Babylonian
governor. During that short half-century, however, fundamental changes were
taking place on the international scene. In 550 BCE the Median empire was overrun
by the Iranian Cyrus II, and in the next two years it was the turn of Elam, Parthia,
Hyrcania, and Armenia. By the end of the decade Cyrus was the master of the
Lydian empire that had been ruled by the fabled Croesus, together with the rest of
Asia Minor, Eastern Iran, and much of Central Asia. By the beginning of 539 BCE
Cyrus was ready to advance against Babylon, and in October of that year he
entered the city in triumph. Since Judah was a province in the empire ruled from
Babylon, these shape-changing events were calculated to have a direct impact on
Jewish communities in Judah and elsewhere. The question then arises: did the
change from Babylonian to Persian rule elicit a corresponding change in attitude
to life under imperial control and the loss of native institutions, including the
native dynasty? About that time, the mid-sixth century BCE we begin to hear a
prophetic voice with a new and controversial answer to that question.
TOKENS OF FAITHFUL LOVE TO DAVID (ISA 55:1-5)

The only mention of David in Deutero-Isaiah (chs. 4055) or for that matter
Deutero- and Trito-Isaiah together (chs. 4066), occurs towards the conclusion of
Deutero-Isaiah, at the beginning of the last chapter (55:15) in which many of the
themes which recur throughout the section are recapitulated. This one reference
to the Davidic dynasty provides a point of departure for a discussion of the
authors proposed solution to the loss of the dynasty and his theological politics in
general.
After the invitation to accept the free gift of food that nourishes (vv. 12), the
address continues as follows (vv. 35):
it to a post-exilic theologian. This kind of dialogue is without parallel in Genesis but is

reminiscent of disputations in Ezekiel and Malachi. There are two issues here: the first, the
fate of the righteous caught up in divine judgment on an immoral city; the second, whether
the righteous can influence the fate of the unrighteous and, if so, under what conditions, and
at what critical mass. See my articles Abraham and the Righteous of Sodom, JJS 33 (1982):
11932 and The Judge of All the Earth: Theodicy in the Midrash on Genesis 18:22-33, JJS 41
(1990): 112.
134

Come to me and listen carefully,
Hear me, and your spirit will revive.
I shall make a perpetual covenant with you,
the tokens of faithful love I showed to David
As I appointed him a witness to peoples,
a prince who ruled over nations,
so you will summon a nation you do not know,
and a nation that does not know you will come in haste to you,
for the sake of your God,
for the Holy One of Israel who has made you glorious.
The most natural interpretation of this appeal is that God will show you, the
prophets fellow-Judeans, the same favor he showed David in the past.10 These
tokens of faithful love imply a guarantee of perpetuity for the Davidic dynasty,
as stated in Nathans oracular pronouncement (2 Sam 7:817) and elsewhere (2
Sam 23:17; Ps 89:2737); in effect, a perpetual covenant () , as is explicit
in 2 Sam 23:5 and implicit in our text. But the point is that now the commitment
concerning the dynasty has been reinterpreted, reformulated, and transferred to
the people as a whole, those addressed by the author who had survived the
disaster which swept the dynasty away.
The passage continues by applying this insight to international relations,
always of decisive significance for small nations, then as now, whose fate was to
live in the shadow of oppressive empires. Davids relations with foreign nations as
overlord and source of the blessings of justice and peace are now reformulated in
terms of a new relationship of the people as a whole to the outside world which
will bring the authors fellow-Judeans recognition and honor. Use of the singular,
, (nation) in v. 5 (twice) would, in the circumstances, hint at Persia under the
rule of Cyrus, a figure overwhelmingly present throughout the first section of
Deutero-Isaiah (chs. 4048). Moreover, the statement you will summon a nation
you do not know, and a nation that does not know you will come in haste to you
echoes the frequent summons addressed to Cyrus in the same text (Isa 41:25; 42:6;
45:3, 4), even though he does not know Israels God (45:45). In 55:35, read in the
light of Deutero-Isaiah as a whole, the summons would refer to Cyrus as
10
,
only here and 2 Chr 6:42, is parsed as objective genitive in keeping with the
context, by Hugh G. M. Williamson, The Sure Mercies of David: Subjective or Objective
Genitive?, JSS 23 (1978): 3149, rather than subjective genitive, referring to deeds
performed by David, as A. Caquot, Les grces de David: propos dIsae 55,3b, Sem 15
(1965): 4559; W. A. M. Beuken, Isa. 55.3-5 The Restoration of David, Bijdragen 35 (1974): 49
64; Pierre Bordreuil, Les grces de David et I Maccabee ii 57, VT 31 (1981): 7376. That
David is the recipient rather than the origin of the tokens of faithful love is the view of most
recent commentators; among English-language exegetes see R. Norman Whybray, Isaiah 4066 (NCB; London: Oliphants, 1975), 191; Brevard S. Childs, Isaiah (Louisville: Westminster John
Knox Press, 2001), 43445; Joseph Blenkinsopp, Isaiah 4055: A New Translation with Introduction
and Commentary (AB 19A; New York: Doubleday, 2002), 37071; John Goldingay and David
Payne, Isaiah 4055. Volume II (ICC; London: T & T Clark, 2006), 37175.
JOSEPH BLENKINSOPP
135
representative of the nation summoned to act as agent of the God of Israel in the
conquest of Babylon anticipated for the near future.
The need to rethink the established dogma of the perpetuity of the Davidic
dynasty arose from the intractable data of historical experience. The eclipse of the
Davidic dynasty, signaled by the public slaughter of the sons of Zedekiah, last of
the line, and the dragging of the blinded king into exile (2 Kgs 25:7), had happened
within the lifetime of many of the prophets audience, and perhaps also that of the
prophet himself writing during the last years of Babylonian rule in the mid-sixth
century BCE. Ps 89 contains one of the most poignant expressions of bewilderment
and anguish at the apparently definitive annulment of the covenant by which the
permanence of the national dynasty was thought to have been guaranteed. This
lament has enough in common with the theme and even the language of Isa 55:35
to suggest that the author of our text, and of Isaiah 4055 as a whole, was familiar
with it and had it in mind. Covenant language occurs in both Isa 55:35 and Ps 89
where the key term appears four times and seven times.11 It is clear
nevertheless that the Isaian author goes well beyond the psalmist who can still
plead with Yahweh to bear in mind his promises, and can still utter the age-old
complaint ( ? how long? v. 47 emended text). For the Isaian author, on the
contrary, the dynastic promise has undergone a fundamental reinterpretation.
Hence the complete absence of allusion to David and the Davidic dynasty in
Deutero-Isaiah either as a historical reality, or the object of hope for the future, or
a feature of eschatological scenarios, a situation unparalleled in prophetic texts
dated to the exilic period.12 But this situation, remarkable in itself, leaves
unaddressed the issue of an acceptable alternative form of governance once the
break with the native dynasty is accepted as inevitable. We must now ask whether
the author of Isaiah 4055 had his own answer to that question.
11
Childs, Isaiah, 43437; Goldingay and Payne, Isaiah 4055, 372. Otto Eissfeldt (The
Promises of Grace to David in Isaiah 55:15, in Israels Prophetic Heritage: Essays in Honor of
James Muilenberg [ed. B. W. Anderson and W. Harrelson; New York: Harper & Row, 1962], 196
207) points out the parallels in detail but also a fundamental difference in the psalm vis--vis
Isa 55:35, in that the psalmist is addressing more directly the disconfirmation of the
promise to David. Nahum M. Sarna (Psalm 89: A Study in Inner Biblical Exegesis, in Biblical
and Other Studies [ed. A. Altmann; Cambridge; Harvard University Press, 1963], 2946) dates
the psalm, a composite of hymn, oracle and lament, to the reign of Ahaz during the SyroEphramite attack on Judah in the eighth century BCE. The psalm does not seem to match this
situation: the attack of Syria and Samaria on Jerusalem did not succeed (see v. 41) and Ahaz
was not dethroned (see vv. 40, 45). Scott R. A. Starbuck (Theological Anthropology at a
Fulcrum: Isaiah 55:1-5, Psalm 89, and Second Stage Traditio in the Royal Psalms, in David and
Zion: Biblical Studies in Honor of J. J. M. Roberts [ed. B. F. Batto and K. L. Roberts; Winona Lake:
Eisenbrauns, 2004], 24765) suggests a date for the psalm in its final form after the death of
Josiah and deposition of Jehoahaz, therefore when the dynasty was in terminal crisis.
12
Cf. Jer 17:2425; 22:14; 23:56; 30:89; 33:1426; Ezek 34:2324; 37:2428; Amos 9:11
12; Mic 5:14, and frequently in Isaiah 139 (9:16; 11:19; 16:5). Taking in this broader view
of Deutero-Isaiah makes it difficult to accept the more benign alternative that the promise to
David is now to be shared with all the people rather than transferred to them, as noted by W.
C. Kaiser, The Unfailing Kindnesses promised to David: Isaiah 55:3, JSOT 45 (1989): 4198.
136
THE HISTORICAL CONTEXT: PROSPECTS AND OPTIONS

Any attempt to address this issue must take account of the historical context
in which the author of Deutero-Isaiah13 was active, a context which takes in the
period from the extinction of the dynasty to the time of writing, by broad
agreement the last decade of Babylonian rule (ca. 550539 BCE). To recapitulate:
The final eclipse of the Davidic dynasty occupied the quarter century following the
death of Josiah during which four of his descendants hastened the end by their
ineptitude. The public execution of the male children of Zedekiah, last of the four
(2 Kgs 25:67), was a deliberate act aimed at finally extinguishing the dynasty and,
with it, any hope of independence for the rebellious city harmful to kings and
provinces (Ezra 4:15). But there remained one surviving representative of the
dynasty, the exiled Jehoiachin. An appendix to the Deuteronomistic History
records that in the first year of his reign, therefore 562/561 BCE, Amel-Marduk
granted amnesty to Jehoiachin, giving him a pre-eminent position among other
exiled rulers at the Babylonian court (2 Kgs 25:2730). If this implies that
Jehoiachin was being groomed to return to Jerusalem as a client ruler the plan
came to nothing since Amel-Marduk was assassinated a few months later by his
brother-in-law Neriglissar. Jehoiachin therefore died in Babylon after all, as
predicted by Jeremiah (Jer 22:26).
At the time of the composition of Deutero-Isaiah this was very recent history.
In retrospect, it must have seemed to many of this prophetic authors contemporaries who had survived the terrible half-century since the death of Josiah as if
that tragic event marked, in effect, the end of the line for the dynasty. This would
have made it easier to accept the transfer of the promises to David from the
dynasty to the people as a whole. The same view is expressed in a more subtle way
in the Chroniclers rewritten version of Josiahs death and obsequies (2 Chr 35:20
13
Use of the term author calls for explanation. Without attempting to argue the case
in detail, I am assuming a basic thematic unity throughout chs. 4055 and must confess to
some hesitation with regard to recent attempts to section the work into layers, assigning
dates to each. This seems to me to be especially the case with passages which ostensibly, in
the context, refer to Cyrus II and have been generally so understood, but are re-dated to the
reign of Darius I. I have in mind the dividing up of Isa 45:17, the primary Cyrus text, in the
redactional tour de force of Reinhard G. Kratz, Kyros im Deuterojesaja-Buch: Redaktionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zu Entstehung und Theologie von Jes 4055 (FAT 1; Tbingen: Mohr Siebeck,
1991), but also of the older study of Jean Marcel Vincent, Studien zur literarische Eigenart und
zur geistigen Heimat von Jesaja, Kap. 4055 (BET 5; Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, 1977) and,
more recently, Odil Hannes Steck, Israel und Zion: Zum Problem konzeptioneller Einheit
und literarischer Schichtung in Deuterojesaja, in Gottesknecht und Zion: Gesammelte Aufstze
zu Deuterojesaja (FAT 4; Tbingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1992), 173207; also Ulrich Berges, Das Buch
Jesaja: Komposition und Endgestalt (Herders Biblische Studien 16; Freiburg: Herder, 1998), 322
413. On the need for a less drastic approach to Redaktionsgeschichte see the remarks of HansJrgen Hermisson, Einheit und Komplexitt Deuterojesajas: Probleme der Redaktionsgeschichte von Jes 4055, in The Book of Isaiah: Le Livre dIsae: Les oracles et leurs relectures unit et
complexit de louvrage (BETL 81; ed. J. Vermeylen; Leuven: Leuven University Press/Peeters,
1989), 286312.
JOSEPH BLENKINSOPP
137
27). The latter concludes, uniquely, with a memorial lament which reads like a
lament for the Davidic house as a whole and all that it stood for.
In surveying this half-century of turmoil we note the emergence of different
points of view on what kind of future was possible and tolerable in the absence of
the native dynasty and faced with the overwhelming imperial power represented
by the Babylonians and, in prospect, the Persians. To these points of view
corresponded parties with conflicting opinions on the fundamental issue of
acquiescence in or active opposition to imperial rule in its different forms. The
appointment of Gedaliah over the province sharpened the issue and raised the
stakes on the conflicts about a future without the dynasty (2 Kgs 25:2226; Jer 40:1
41:18); and this would be especially the case if Gedaliah was appointed as client
king, since he was certainly not of Davidic descent. It would also render more
contextually intelligible the assassination of Gedaliah by Ishmael who was, or
claimed to be, of Davidic descent (Jer 41:1).
The biblical account of the situation is obviously incomplete, but the texts
have much to say about Jeremiah and the Shaphanids in opposition to policies
pursued by those advising Zedekiah and their allies. Party conflict in the last phase
of the kingdom of Judah may be reflected in the final chapter of the History. It
seems likely that its original conclusion was the definitive statement that Judah
went into exile out of its land (2 Kgs 25:21) rather than the inconsequential bit of
information with which it concludes in its present form (25:30).14 If this is so, two
appendices must have been added. The first is the account of the appointment of
Gedaliah, his assassination, and an exodus en masse to Egypt to avoid the
anticipated Babylonian reprisal (2 Kgs 25:2226). The second, which holds out a
sliver of hope for a future restoration, records the rehabilitation of Jehoiachin by
Amel-Marduk (written disphemistically Evil-Merodach in the biblical text) and
therefore must have been added before the assassination of the latter in 560 BCE.15
All of this is in sharp contrast to the conclusion of Chronicles where the focus is no
longer on the national dynasty but on Cyrus as the divinely inspired agent of
Yahweh (2 Chr 36:2223). And with Cyrus we return to Deutero-Isaiah and its
authors response to the issues of his own day.
14
Recent discussion in Thomas C. Rmer, The So-Called Deuteronomistic History (London/New York: T & T Clark, 2005), 140.
15
The situation is more complex for those who argue for a Josian edition of the History
concluding with the statement about the incomparability of Josiah in 2 Kgs 23:25: Before
him there was no king like him who turned to Yahweh with all his heart and soul and
strength, according to all the law of Moses. After experiencing the four, or maybe five
rulers who followed him, a later scribe has added: nor did any like him arise after him,
followed by a statement in which Yahweh rejects Judah, Jerusalem, and its temple (23:25b
27). The general sense seems to be that the dynasty ended, in effect, with Josiah. For a
summary account of the double redaction theory, together with competing views of the
Cross school and the Gttingen school, see Albert de Pury, Thomas Rmer, and JeanDaniel Macchi (eds.), Isral construit son histoire: Lhistoriographie deutronomiste la lumire des
recherches rcentes (Le Monde de la Bible 34; Geneva: Labor et Fides, 1996), 4658; Rmer, The
So-Called Deuteronomistic History, 2735.
138
CYRUS, DIVINELY-INSPIRED AND DIVINELY-APPOINTED SUCCESSOR

TO THE DAVIDIC LINE
According to Isaiah 4048 Cyrus is destined to be the principal agent of
national rehabilitation and restoration for Judean communities in Judah and the
diaspora. Karl Budde stated this very clearly many years ago: Cyrus stands at the
very center of the prophets world view.16 He is the one who will defeat Judahs
enemies, Babylon in the first place,17 impose an international order based on
justice and peace (42:14),18 allow, even facilitate, the repatriation of those forcibly
deported (42:7; 45:13), and make possible the rebuilding of Jerusalem and its
temple (44:28; 45:13). These tasks are to be discharged under the direct inspiration
and aegis of Yahweh, Israels king.19 Such expectations would not have seemed
unreasonable in view of propaganda of the kind disseminated in the Cyrus
Cylinder text published within a year of the fall of Babylon. In the second half of
this manifesto Cyrus, speaking in his own name, claimed to have restored the gods
of subject peoples to their original sanctuaries and permitted their devotees to
return to their native lands.20 Most commentators conclude that Deutero-Isaiah, or
the greater part of it, was composed before the promulgation of this text, some
time between 550 and 538. Pro-Persian propaganda would, however, have been in
circulation during the last years of the reign of Nabonidus, probably disseminated
by Marduk priests offended by Nabonidus neglect of the aktu festival and his
16
Cited in Max Haller, Die Kyros-Lieder Deuterojesajas, in
: Studien
zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments: Hermann Gunkel zum 60. Geburtstage,
dem 23. Mai 1922 dargebracht von seinen Schlern und Freunden, und in ihrem Namen (FRLANT 36;
ed. H. Schmidt; Gttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1923), 261.
17
Isa 41:15, 2529; 43:14; 45:17, 13; 46:11; 48:1416.
18
The nature of the commission mandated in 42:14, that of imposing an international
order based on justice ( occurring three times in this short passage), is the function of a
ruler not of a prophet or priest. It has several of the features of a royal installation ritual, cf.
Ps 2; 72; 110. The identification of the in 42:14 with Cyrus has often been argued or
assumed, e.g., Haller, Die Kyroslieder des Deuterojesaja, 26263; Sydney Smith, Isaiah
Chapters XLLV: Literary Criticism and History (Schweich Lectures 1940; London: Published for
the British Academy by Oxford University Press, 1944), 5457; Sigmund Mowinckel, He That
Cometh (Oxford: Blackwell, 1956), 18991. It should be added that since the book of Isaiah has
been the object of a continuous and cumulative process of reinterpretation, this first of
Duhms servant passages could have been reapplied to other figures at a later time. See my
Isaiah 40-55, 20912.
19
Isa 41:21; 43:15; 44:6. With the verb ( stir up, inspire) in Isa 41:2, 25; 45:13; cf. 2
Chr 36:22; Ezra 1:1.
20
The relevant statements correspond to lines 3233 of the Cylinder, see the translation
in ANET, 31516. It is acknowledged, however, that this is propaganda probably emanating
from Babylonian priests hostile to Nabonidus, and that Persian policy vis--vis subject
peoples was not significantly different from that of their imperial predecessors. See, inter
alios, R. J. van der Spek, Did Cyrus the Great Introduce a New Policy Towards Subdued
Nations?, Persica 10 (1982): 27883; Amlie Kuhrt, The Cyrus Cylinder and Achaemenid
Imperial Policy, JSOT 25 (1983): 8397.
JOSEPH BLENKINSOPP
139
other alleged impieties, and the prophet could have become acquainted with it at
that time.
On the assumption that the author of Isaiah 4055 had a particular form of
governance in mind for the immediate future, we must go on to ask in what
capacity Cyrus was to fulfill this commission assigned to him by Yahweh. I will
argue that Deutero-Isaiah is attempting to persuade his public that Yahweh is now
bringing about a new dispensation in which Cyrus, as Yahwehs agent, will take
over the succession to the now defunct Davidic dynasty, warranted by an authority
which transcends by far descent through the male line, namely, direct divine
inspiration not only of the prophetic author but of Cyrus himself.21 Since this
solution called for abandoning beliefs long cherished together with aspirations for
political autonomy, we can appreciate that many of the hearers would be
predisposed to reject the message. An earlier commentator put this is even
stronger terms: If Cyrus was the anointed of Yahweh, he had taken the place of
the line of David, and had become the true king of Judah . . . The consequence,
equally inevitable, of this proclamation of Cyrus must have been that the prophet
would seem to some of his own people a traitor, worthy of death.22 Hence the
weight attached to prophetic authority in these chapters, validated by the
Deuteronomistic verification-falsification theory (Deut 18:2122), in other words,
the fulfillment of earlier predictions.23 Hence also the repeated emphasis on the
cosmic power of the deity who sponsors and guarantees the truth of the prophets
message.24 These recurring themes testify to the earnestness of the prophets claim
to a hearing while at the same time betraying an implicit acknowledgment of the
likelihood of rejection. One indication of the latter may be detected in the
gradually increasing exasperation at the failure of those addressed to accept the
message.25
That this is the authors political solution to the current crisis is supported by
the complete silence of Deutero-Isaiah on David, the Davidic dynasty, and its
destiny, with the exception of Isa 55:35. It can also be deduced more directly from
the titles assigned to Cyrus. These include such familiar designations as servant
( ) and shepherd ( ) which encapsulate the age-old Mesopotamian ideal of
the just ruler and are likewise part of the Davidic titulature.26 If the first of the four
21
The verb ( ) > can have a meaning analogous to prophetic inspiration, with
reference to the Servant of the Lord (Isa 50:4), Zerubbabel and Joshua (Hag 1:14), and
diaspora Jews (Ezra 1:5). I take it that this is the sense in which Cyrus is said to be inspired
(Isa 41:2, 25; 45:13; also 2 Chr 36:22; Ezra 1:1).
22
Smith, Isaiah Chapters XLLV, 74.
23
Isa 41:2223, 2529; 44:78, 2628; 48:35, 16b.
24
Isa 40:1214, 21, 26, 28; 42:5; 45:7, 12, 18; 48:13. See my article The Cosmological and
Protological Language of Deutero-Isaiah, CBQ 73 (2011): 493510.
25
Isa 42:1825; 43:2228; 45:913; 46:813; 48:111.
26
David as the servant of Yahweh in 2 Sam 3:18; 1 Kgs 8:2426; 2 Kgs 19:34; Jer 33:2122,
26. In Ezek 34:23 and 37:24 David is both servant and shepherd. David, who is presented as
literally a shepherd, is reminded by the Israelite tribal elders that he was designed by
Yahweh as shepherd and ruler (, 2 Sam 5:2 = 1 Chr 11:2; also Ps 78:7172).
140
Duhmian Ebedlieder (42:14), with the following comment (42:59), was at that time
referred to Cyrus, as proposed earlier, it would imply a commissioning of the
Persian ruler as Yahwehs royal servant and a presentation of him in that capacity
to the people. Isa 42:14 reads, in fact, like a solemn verbatim report of a ceremony
of installation in office. The idea behind the ruler as servant is not, or at least not
primarily, that he is to serve his people, but that he is to function in the service of
the deity who commissioned him and whose will he is to implement. Whereas in
the Cylinder text Cyrus is commissioned by and acts in the name of Marduk, in
Isaiah he is the servant of Yahweh. An inscription from the Abu-Habba (ancient
Sippar) collection in the British Museum, from the reign of Nabonidus, refers to
Marduk who aroused Cyrus, king of Anshan, his young servant, who then went
on to defeat the Medes.27 The metaphor of shepherding, on the other hand,
tempers the image of absolute royal power with a concern for justice and care for
societys losers and outcasts (Isa 40:1112). As a metaphor for just and equitable
rule, it features in royal annals throughout Mesopotamian history, for example,
with reference to Hammurapi and Assurbanipal.28 As shepherd, therefore, Cyrus
will see to the well-being of the prophets defeated and dispirited fellow
Judaeans, the rebuilding of Jerusalem, and the restoration of the ruined cities of
Judah (Isa 44:28).
The most striking of these titles attached to the native dynast in several
texts,29 and to Cyrus in Deutero-Isaiah, is , anointed one:
This is what Yahweh says about his anointed one, about Cyrus:
I have grasped him by his right hand
to beat down nations before him,
depriving kings of their strength;
to open doors before him,
with no gates closed to him (45:1)
Commentators have experienced problems with the text and syntax of this verse,
quite apart from the question whether ( about Cyrus) should be elided as
an interpolation.30 There is certainly more than one way of translating the verse,
27
Text in Paul-Alain Beaulieu, The Reign of Nabonidus, King of Babylon, 556539 B.C. (Yale
Near Eastern Researches 10; New Haven & London: Yale University Press, 1989), 108. Several
scholars have noted parallels between this text and Deutero-Isaiah.
28
See G. Wallis, r; reh, TDOT 13: 544553.
29
E.g. 1 Sam 2:10, 35; 2 Sam 19:22; 22:51; 23:1 and often in Psalms; Lam 4:20 is particularly poignant and relevant to the situation addressed by Deutero-Isaiah: Yahwehs anointed,
the breath of our life, was taken in their traps, although we had thought to live among the
nations, secure under his shadow.
30
On these issues see Karl Elliger, Deuterojesaja 40,145,7 (BKAT 11/2/16; NeukirchenVluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1978), 481503; Klaus Westermann, Isaiah 4066: A Commentary
(OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1969), 15255, 162; Blenkinsopp, Isaiah 4055, 24345;
Goldingay and Payne, Isaiah 4055, 2:1722. Few have followed Charles C. Torrey, The Second
Isaiah: A New Interpretation (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1928), 42, 357 and James D. Smart, History
and Theology in Second Isaiah: A Commentary on Isaiah 35, 4066 (London: Epworth, 1967), 11534
JOSEPH BLENKINSOPP
141
but the translation offered above is defensible. Anointing is an important element

in ceremonies of installation in the office of kingship, in Judah as elsewhere in the
Near East, and such a ceremony may be alluded to in the passage which the
statement cited above introduces (Isa 45:17). In this ceremony the deity addresses
the king-designate directly, as here and in Ps 2:79, and presents him to the
assembly, as in Isa 42:14. Other featuresholding him by the hand (Isa 45:1, also
42:6), calling him by name (Isa 45:3, 4), giving him a title or throne name (v. 4),
ending, perhaps, with an allusion to investiture (v. 5 verb zar, bind, gird)
are familiar features of the practice and ideology of royalty in the ancient Near
East. Several of them appear on the Cyrus Cylinder with reference to Cyrus as
appointee of the imperial Babylonian deity Marduk, and all are familiar from the
language of the Babylonian court.31
THE INTERNATIONAL CONTEXT OF DEUTERO-ISAIAHS ENDORSEMENT OF CYRUS

This prophetic endorsement of Cyrus is rendered more intelligible by what
happened in the aftermath of the fall of Babylon in 539 BCE. The Cylinder text
states the claim of Cyrus to be king of Babylon as legitimate successor of
Nabonidus, a claim justified by sponsorship on the part of Marduk, imperial god of
Babylon. This text records how Marduk was angry with Nabonidus, looked for a
replacement, chose Cyrus, and commanded him to take the city and restore the
traditional cult.32 Cyrus was therefore given religious legitimation as successor to
the last Babylonian king. Towards the end of the Cylinder text, Cyrus reports the
discovery of an inscription of Assurbanipal whom he describes as a king who
preceded me, that is, as king of Babylon.33 One of the titles of Cyrus which appears
on contemporary inscriptions is therefore king of Babylon, king of the lands (ar
Bbili ar mtti).34 His succession to the discredited Nabonidus, and therefore also
who, for quite different reasons, deleted as an interpolation. Klaus Baltzer, DeuteroIsaiah: A Commentary on Isaiah 4055 (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001), 223, agrees that
it is interpolated but adds rather mysteriously that Deutero-Isaiah was the interpolator.
31
Discussion of parallels in Isaiah 4055 with Babylonian Hofstil go back all the way to
the much-cited article of Rudolph Kittel, Cyrus und Deuterojesaja, ZAW 18 (1898): 14962.
Kittel argued that the close parallels, even in wording, between Marduks relation to Cyrus in
the Cylinder and Yahwehs relation to the same monarch in Deutero-Isaiah cannot be
explained by direct dependence either way but only by familiarity on the part of DeuteroIsaiah with the traditional and stereotypical language of the Babylonian court. In the almost
equally-cited article, II Isaiah and the Persians, JAOS 83 (1963): 41521, Morton Smith,
while not questioning the parallels, proposed that the biblical author could have drawn on
pro-Persian propaganda disseminated among Jewish expatriates in Babylon before the fall of
the city.
32
ANET, 315.
33
Kuhrt, The Cyrus Cylinder and Achaemenid Imperial Policy, 88; The Persian Empire: A
Corpus of Sources from the Achaemenid Period (London/New York: Routledge, 2007), 72.
34
M. A. Dandamaev, Persien unter den ersten Achmeniden (6. Jh. v. Chr.) (Beitrge zur
Iranistik 8; Wiesbaden: Reichert, 1976), 96100; A Political History of the Achaemenid Empire
142
to the illustrious Nebuchadnezzar II, was thus accepted as legitimate, at least by

the Marduk priesthood, on the theological grounds of their gods sponsorship.
After the conquest, Cyrus restored the spring aktu (new year) festival in Marduks
Esagila sanctuary, neglected by Nabonidus, and confirmed the legitimacy of his
claim to the throne by presiding over the festival, a circumstance which could lead
to reflection on the Persian attitude to the Jerusalem temple as emblematic of and
instrumental in imperial control of Judah. (One indication of the new function of
the Jerusalem temple, viewed from the Persian perspective, is the requirement
that prayers for the royal family in Susa be incorporated into the temple liturgy,
Ezra 6:910.) It was the rejection of this religious legitimation of Persian succession
to the Babylonian throne which led to the dynastic revolt of Nidintu-Bl, who
claimed, perhaps truthfully, to be the son of Nabonidus and heir to the great
Nebuchadnezzar II. A second Babylonian revolt followed shortly afterwards led by
a certain Arakha, referred to as an Armenian but of obscure antecedents, who was
crowned in Babylon as Nebuchadnezzar IV, and whose revolt was suppressed
towards the end of 521 BCE.35 Both were essentially dynastic revolts.
A similar pattern emerged after the conquest of Egypt by Cambyses in 525 BCE.
Cambyses assumed the throne as legitimate successor to the last of the Saitic
Pharaohs, Psammeticus III or, since the latters reign was short and insignificant,
that of his predecessor Amasis II (570526 BCE). As such, he was accepted as the
founder of the twenty-seventh dynasty, and is addressed in these terms in the
autobiographical inscription of the Egyptian notable Udjahorresnet.36
Jerusalem, however, was not Babylon, one of the nodal points in the Achaemenid empire, nor was it Memphis. Deutero-Isaiahs argument for legitimation
was along the same lines, but it was evident that Cyrus would rule over Judah
neither in his own person nor through a native appointed as a client king, but
through a provincial governor who would answer to the satrap of BabylonTranseuphrates. Perhaps the memory of the convulsive events following on the
death of Josiah excluded the more accommodating option of relative autonomy
under a native ruling as client king, even if a suitable candidate had been available.
A final note. Deutero-Isaiahs acceptance of the legitimacy of empire was not
unconditional. It was contingent in the first place on leaving Jewish communities
under Persian rule free to worship their own deity in their own place of worship
and to conduct undisturbed their own religious practices. Fortunately, tolerance
and even support of local cults was a characteristic of Persian imperial policy. In
(Leiden: Brill, 1989), 5456.
35
The primary source is the Bisitun inscription (columns I 77II 5; IV 2829). Cuneiform
texts dated to the autumn of 521, during the brief reign of Arakha / Nebuchadnezzar IV,
have come to light in southern Mesopotamia; see Amlie Kuhrt, Babylonia from Cyrus to
Xerxes, in Persia, Greece and the Western Mediterranean c. 525 to 479 B.C. (ed. J. Boardman et al;
vol. 4 of The Cambridge Ancient History; 2nd ed.; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988),
11238 (12930). See also Herodotus, Hist. III.150160 who, however, is not well informed on
the reign of Darius I.
36
Dandamaev, A Political History of the Achaemenid Empire, 7678; Joseph Blenkinsopp,
The Mission of Udjahorresnet and Those of Ezra and Nehemiah, JBL 106 (1987): 40921.
JOSEPH BLENKINSOPP
143
this respect the Deutero-Isaian solution anticipates the situation described in the
opening chapters of the book of Daniel in which Daniel and his companions profit
by the educational opportunities available in the Babylonian empire, serve at the
imperial court, and can even rise to high office. They do so, however, while
observing strictly the dietary laws and the customary prayers and refusing to
worship other deities. Deutero-Isaiahs theological position must have been
experienced as radical when it was first enunciated. It is even more so in its
implications, since it opened up the way to the severing of religious ties with
nationality and territory and to contemplating, perhaps for the first time, the
possibility of a future without the apparatus of an independent state system.
8
The Yehudite Collection of Prophetic Books and
Imperial Contexts: Some Observations
Ehud Ben Zvi
I. INTRODUCTION
The proper starting point for advancing any observations on a topic such as
the Yehudite Collection of Prophetic Books and Imperial Contexts is an explicit
statement of what is meant by the relevant key terms. By the Yehudite Collection
of Prophetic Books I do not refer to a collection consisting only of Haggai, Zechariah (or some proposed Haggai-Zechariah corpus, or Zechariah 18) and Malachi;
nor do I refer to a collection including these books and sections from Isaiah (esp.
Isaiah 1427 and 5666), some additions to other prophetic books (esp. Jeremiah
and Ezekiel) and perhaps Jonah and Joel.1 Instead I refer to the collection of prophetic books that likely existed and was read and reread in the Late Persian (or the
early Hellenistic) period. This collection, as well as most of the ancient Israelite
books that eventually ended up in the Hebrew Bible, emerged, at least in something close to their present form, among the literati of a small community in a
small and marginal province within a large empire.2 It is reasonable to assume that
the compositional versions of the present fifteen prophetic books (Isaiah-Malachi)
1
As commonly done; cf., among many others, Lester L. Grabbe, A History of the Jews and
Judaism in the Second Temple Period, Volume 1 Yehud: A History of the Persian Province of Judah
(LSTS 47; London / New York: T & T Clark, 2004), 8597.
2
On the marginal importance of Yehud for the Achaemenid empire, see, for instance,
Pierre Briant, Histoire impriale et histoire rgionale: propos de lhistoire de Juda dans
lEmpire achmnide, in Congress Volume: Oslo 1998 (ed. A. Lemaire and M. Sb; VTSup 80;
Leiden: Brill, 2000), 23545 (238 and passim). The lack of substantial growth in terms of settlements and population within the province throughout the Persian period also supports
the marginality of Yehud in the Persian imperial eco-system.
145
146
constitute a corpus that is representative of the contents of that collection and

may be used as such.3
The choice to focus on the entire collection of prophetic books read and reread by the community, rather than on a relatively small set or potential subsection thereof, which are construed all on the basis of possible dates of authorship, is
of crucial importance for the reconstruction of the social mindscape and intellectual history of the community in the relevant period.4 Communities shape and
express their discursive world through their repertoire of texts as they are read by
3
I would like to stress that I am dealing with the collection of prophetic books as they
were likely read and reread in this social context. This implies looking at them within their
Sitz im Diskurs at the time. Moreover, I am looking at this collection of books as texts that
reflected and shaped memory of past and future events. (Readers could remember events
from the future as well as from the past; they vicariously experienced them through their
readings and rereadings.) Since the collection is, among other things, one of past and future
construing texts, it is reasonable to use approaches informed by memory studies as heuristic
tools. The latter can help us to understand generative grammars that make certain memories more likely to be remembered than others. In other words, they help us understand
systemic tendencies that influenced what was remembered and the reasons that certain
memories were shaped in the ways in which they were. It will be shown that imperial contexts played numerous roles in these processes. All these matters are critical for any historical reconstruction of the intellectual discourse of Yehud in the late Persian (or early Hellenistic) period.
(It goes without saying that historians of the intellectual discourse of Yehud, as historians of any discourse for that matter or historians in general can only construct their own
scholarly reconstruction of the relevant readers and their readings and rereadings. Of
course, some reconstructions are better than others, according to historical standards. On
my own take on historical methodology in general and in particular in relation to historical
studies of ancient Israel see my Clio Today and Ancient Israelite History: Some Thoughts
and Observations at the Closing Session of the European Seminar for Historical Methodology, presented, as evident from the title, at the closing session of the seminar [2012] and
forthcoming in the collected essays volume emerging from that meeting that is currently
being edited by L. L. Grabbe, the convener of the seminar. See also the bibliography on historical methodology cited there.)
4
On social mindscapes see E. Zerubavel, Social Mindscapes. An Invitation to Cognitive Sociology (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1997); E. Zerubavel, Time Maps: Collective
Memory and the Social Shape of the Past (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2003). The concept of mindscape precedes, of course, Zerubavel and goes back to M. Maruyama who used
the term mindscape to mean a structure of reasoning, cognition, perception, conceptualization, design, planning, and decision making that may vary from one individual, profession, culture, or social group to another, M. Maruyama, Mindscapes and Science Theories,
Current Anthropology 21 (1980): 58999 (591).
The study of social mindscapes involve, inter alia, that of accepted and shared ways of
thinking in a group of generating ideas, questions and ways of addressing them, of providing
meaning to data and actually construing data by focusing on particular matters and not
others, of assigning significance to memories, stories, and actually shaping the production of
memories according to particular patterns. Moreover, involves the study of how all these are
deeply interconnected.
EHUD BEN ZVI
147
the community and as they shape and evoke social memories in the group.5 Texts
are not read in a way un-informed by other texts within the repertoire of the
community (thus, the importance of the Sitz im Diskurs for understanding how a
text was actually read within it) nor according to exclusive and exclusivist subsets
constructed on the basis of their chronological claims or (supposed) dates of authorship.6 To use a metaphor, the various texts that exist within the repertoire of a
community are comparable to words or sentences within a general language.
To understand the language and its underlying grammar, one cannot limit oneself to new words. Significantly, even most of these new words were presented
to and read by Yehudite literati as old words (e.g., Isaiah 1427 and 5666). In any
case, as they reread their texts, they kept construing the (implied) authors of these
texts and its main characters.
The meaning of the other crucial term/concept, namely empire, also demands some clarification. Certainly not all empires are the same but first, and
most important, there is no agreement on what an empire is or was.7 Second, in
The stress on historical authors and historical redactors rather than on community and communally read texts is probably a remnant of a great men, traditionally
modernist historiographic tendency. Significantly, the real authors and characters with
which the community interacted as they read and reread these books were those they construed to be as such, that is, a communal, implied author of the text. It is worth noting that it
is very unlikely that they ever construed a lengthy series of implied redactors.
6
If comparison with historical work on contemporary social groups, despite all its obvious problems and limitations, may still have an element of relevance, one may note that
historians today would not attempt to reconstruct the general social mindscape of Canadians (or a particular subset of Canadians) in any region of the country in 2013, or in the last
decade for that matter, by looking only at texts (in its most comprehensive meaning) published only in the relevant group and only in that region. The reason is simple: Canadians in
any region are informed by, construe the meaning of, and consume (and thus construct)
far more texts than those published in a single year or decade or only those in their region.
Yehud is different and certainly did not participate in a world similar to ours, but still, it is
very unlikely and contradicted by their very texts that they would construe their ideological
world on the basis of texts that they read (and were asked to read) as written in the Persian
period (e.g., Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi) or on a set of sections that they would have to
extract out of books that presented themselves from earlier periods (i.e., texts that we today
tend to identify as additions and supplements).
7
There is, indeed, a significant debate on how to define empire. One of the most cited
or referenced observation concerning the plethora of definitions is:
They [numerous definitions of empire] share in common a view of empire as a territorially expansive and incorporative kind of state, involving relationships in which one
state exercises control over other sociopolitical entities (e.g. states, chiefdoms, nonstratified societies), and of imperialism as the process of creating and maintaining empires. The diverse polities and communities that constitute an empire typically retain
some degree of autonomyin self- and centrally-defined cultural identity . . . , and in
some dimensions of political and economic decision making. Most authors also share a
conception of various kinds of empires distinguished by differing degrees of political
and/or economic control, viewed either as discrete types or as variations along a con-
148
the last decades there has been a considerable debate about models of ancient empires and perhaps even an interpretive shift in terms of which models are more
appropriate for historical reconstructions of actual, historical empires (as opposed
to its representation in some of the literature emanating from the center). To illustrate, there is considerable debate about how these empires actually worked and in
particular on how they, once these became well-established, (tended to) administer their territories in particular. Did they (tend to) rule over a plethora of various
local societies or also and perhaps even in the main through these societies, or
more precisely, their elites. To what extent were ancient imperial polities run, in
practical terms, by and according to universal, rational, royal policies and
general laws enacted to fulfill particular imperial aims and alternatively, to what
extent did ancient empires represent a polity based on processes of ongoing negotiations with a plethora of different local leaderships leading to outcomes that
may or may not be similar to one another, even if always involving unequal partners?8 Unsurprisingly, there is considerable debate about how to understand the
referent of the Achaemenid Empire among contemporary historians.9
tinuum from weakly integrated to more highly centralized polities (Carla M. Sinopoli,
The Archaeology of Empires, Annual Review of Anthropology 23 [1994]: 15980 [160]).
For citations of or explicit references to this observation, see, for instance, Elspeth R. M.
Dusinberre, Aspects of Empire in Achaemenid Sardis (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2003), 196; Anselm C. Hagedorn, Local Law in an Imperial Context: The Role of Torah in the
(Imagined) Persian Period, in The Pentateuch as Torah: New Models for Understanding its Promulgation and Acceptance (ed. G. N. Knoppers and B. M. Levinson; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns,
2007), 5776 (5960). Sinopoli, Archaeology of Empires, summarizes and discusses also the
large variation among empires. Cf. Mark Chavalas, The Age of Empires: 3100900 BCE, in A
Companion to the Ancient Near East (ed. D. C. Snell; Malden/Oxford: Blackwell, 2005), 3447.
8
This chapter is clearly not the place to discuss at any length these general matters,
even if the results of these discussions have an impact on reconstructions of how ancient
empires, once established, were likely experienced by local populations and particularly
local elites outside the main center of power. On these issues and with examples, see, for
instance, M. M. Austin, Hellenistic Kings, War and the Economy, Classical Quarterly 36
(1986): 45066; J. G. Manning, The Last Pharaohs: Egypt under the Ptolemies, 30530 BC (Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 2010), 119; and John Ma, Antiochos III and the Cities of Western Asia
Minor (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000). A common critique to the legalistic model of
ancient empire is that it is anachronistic. I thank Sylvie Honigman for her comments on
these matters (personal note). Matters, of course, do not change in any significant way if
instead of using the abstract term empire one uses terms such as the kingdom/household
of the great king, king of kings, king of countries containing all kinds of men [and women],
king in this great earth far and wide, one king for many, one lord for all (see DE; i.e., Darius Inscription on Mount Elvend, and the parallel inscription of Xerxes [XE] on the same
place, one next to the other; for an English translation of the text see A. Kuhrt, The Persian
Empire: A Corpus of Sources from the Achaemenid Period [2 vols.; London: Routledge, 2007], 1:301,
304).
9
See, for instance, Pierre Briant, From Cyrus to Alexander: A History of the Persian Empire
(Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2002), 1.
EHUD BEN ZVI
149
Moreover, just as nations are imagined communities, so were empires. Being part of the Persian Empire10 was above all an act of social imagination on the
part of the community of Yehud.11 As all acts of social imagination, this is an act of
imagination of a particular historical community, and thus contingent on, for instance, the social mindscape of the community, its memories, its selfunderstanding, etc. Different groups in the Persian Empire likely imagined their
being part of the Persian Empire in substantially different ways. Different groups
developed different imperial experiences, even if they include some undisputable
overlaps.
This said, references to imperial context and its importance for reconstructions of the historical matrix within which prophetic booksand other books
within the authoritative repertoire of Yehudemerged can be extremely helpful,
provided that it is clear what, even if only heuristically, is meant by imperial context. Here, and for pragmatic reasons only, I refer to (willing or unwilling) participation in an unequal network of multiple ethnocultural groups that includes numerous
contact areas (e.g., cultural, economic, political, social), and various dynamic processes
affecting different aspects of the life of these groups (e.g., acculturation and perceived
resistance to acculturation, economic flows of goods and materialincluding taxes
and trade, complex processes involving the build-up, maintenance and projection
of permanent, seemingly overwhelming military power, etc.), which is sustained by
the presence of a central authority and its main socio-political and symbolic structures.
To be sure, imperial context in that sense, and even universal imperial
context, was nothing new to communities in the ancient southern Levant, but a
long standing reality in the area.12 No one alive in Persian-period Yehud would
have had anyone in his or her family, for generations, who lived outside some sort
of universal imperial context. To imagine a world in this social context was, by
default, to imagine one characterized by imperial contexts, even if these contexts could be imagined in different ways.
As suggested above, living in an imperial context impacted multiple aspects of
the life of the community. This contribution, however, is an attempt to explore
some of the ways in which the imperial context of the community was intertwined
with processes of social memory formation and re-formation, concerning past and
future events that were evoked through the reading and rereading of the prophetic books. In other words, and from a slightly different but closely related perspective, it is about (discursive) generative grammars that created systems of preferences and dis-preferences that contributed much to the shaping of images and
texts within the collection of prophetic books.
10
As opposed to simply paying (forced) taxes and the like.

The same applies, of course, to any other community that existed within such an
empire.
12
I am using the adjective universal here to distinguish world hegemony empires
such as Assyria, Babylon (even if its center formally refused to imagine/present itself as a
universal empire until the reign of Nabonidus), Persia, Alexander, Rome and the like from
non-world hegemony empires (e.g., the Ptolemaic or Seleucid empires, or the socially remembered, imagined regional empire of David and Solomon).
11
150
Certainly, the imperial experience of the Yehudite literati could not but
strongly affect, directly and indirectly, in ways known or unbeknownst to them,
their literary activities. The importance of this seemingly trivial observation for
the social and intellectual history of Yehud becomes apparent once one takes into
consideration that these activities were central to processes of identity formation
and negotiation within the community, and that, at least from the literatis perspective, this community was construed as centered around divine teachings contained in the very authoritative literature of the community that represents the
outcome of their literary activities (both as writers/composers/editors and as
readers and re-readers).
It is also hardly surprising that cultural trends, images and conceptual frames,
some of which had a longue dure and which may be identified with empire, were
internalized and, through this process, re-signified by Yehudites; just as later Judahites certainly did so in the late Second-Temple period and most certainly earlier Judahites did as well, each according to their own imperial context. As historical
cross-cultural studies indicate, ethnocultural groups that participate, willingly or
unwillingly, in a world cultural and socio-political system tend, over time, to
appropriate and internalize discourses, images, and concepts present in their
world socio-cultural system, but that originated outside the inner group. As they
do so, they re-signify the images and concepts so as to enhance their ability for
social reproduction. In other words, what we may call hybridity regularly emerges
in such cases.13 It is worth noting, however, that these groups would rarely see and
most rarely internalize their discourses as some form of hybrid; for them, it is
their very own culture, and as such it serves to shape their sense of identity. Moreover, they would tend to see trajectories of continuity linking their present with
their past. To be sure, issues of legitimization are involved in the matter, but also
of self-identity.14
13
One may note that hybridity, in this sense, is not only a matter of Yehudite Israel. It is
the hallmark of social discourses within later Jewish communities through time. A few examples suffice: the Hasmonean state and its discourse, Alexandrian Hellenistic Jewish intellectual discourses, medieval thinkers such as Ibn Ezra and Rambam, the emergence of Reform Judaism and neo-orthodox Judaism in the 19th century, discourses such as the neoKantian philosopher Hermann Cohen in late 19th- and early 20th-century Germany, the emergence of Jewish (political) nationalism in Eastern and Central Europe and Zionism in particular, Lubavitcher Messianism of the 20th century, and present-day American Jewish discourses
(e.g., signs such as Occupy Oakland not Palestine that embody and communicate the [religious] discourse of groups such as those around the bi-monthly Tikkun and rabbi Michael
Lerner, or the phenomenon of Orthodox Jewish rock [or folk] music). From this perspective,
one might say that a history of Jewish thought or Judaic systems/discourses is or even can
only be a history of multiple forms of hybridity through time and geographical and social
space. But Jews were/are certainly not alone in this respect. In fact, cultural interactions,
appropriations and re-significations are the norm, not the exception.
14
One example, among the myriad of possible examples, is the Hasmonean presentation
of their rule as in continuity with a biblical past; see 1 Macc 9:22; 16:23 and very extensively in 1 Macc 14:414.
EHUD BEN ZVI
151
Of course, imperial centers are also influenced by, appropriate, and resignify
substantial cultural aspects of ethnocultural groups outside the original imperial
center and thus create their own forms of hybridity, which dynamically shape the
center through intercultural interactions at the interface between different ethnocultural groups.15
As per its title, the point of this contribution is not to discuss hybridity in general, but particular manifestations in a very particular community. To do so, it has
to deal with particular generative grammars that caused certain social memories
of past and future empires to be preferred or dis-preferred within Persian Yehud,
or at least among its literati.16 This said, a final, general, cross-cultural consideration is in order. Social memories tend to be preferred or dis-preferred in a community according to the degree to which they are consistent, evoke or even serve
to embody central meta-narratives or sections thereof that stand at the core of the
collective memory, and that serve important roles in processes of formation of
social identity within and for the community.
Turning now to the collection of prophetic books, even the most cursory analysis of the memory-scape shaped and evoked by the prophetic books shows that:
(a) one city, Jerusalem, stands at the very center of this memory-scape; and (b)
two imperial powers, Assyria and Babylon, dominate the mindshare of the community that read and reread these books and in the process shaped its memories of
the communitys past.17 Observation (a) is the starting point for the next section of
this essay and observation (b), for section three.
15
Cultural influences of the type mentioned above are all too present in the Achaemenid, Roman, Parthian and Mughal empires, to mention a few. Leaving aside global empires,
Syrian/Levantine influence on New Kingdom Egypt is well known and so is Egyptian influence in the Ptolemaic empire, and, of course, there is Kassite Babylon. Although, since the
first Aramean migration to Northern Mesopotamia, there was a process of Arameanization
of Neo-Assyrian culture and language, which obviously preceded the expansion of the empire to control the Aramean heartland, there was strong Aramean influence in Assyria; the
Assyrian empire became so influenced by the Arameans that it could be characterized as an
Assyrian-Aramean empire.
Similar tendencies are at work in recent empires. It is probably not perchance that current Indian historians are emphasizing not only how much the UK influenced India, but how
much India has influenced the UK. To be sure, this is not necessarily the case in other (formerly) colonized groups, but still shows that cultural influences may go in multiple directions even today.
16
To use a metaphor suggested to me by a colleague, who is an archaeologist and historian, my approach here is to focus on patterns that emerge from a view from above the surface, that is, from a helicopter overview of a site and its region, rather than focusing on a
detailed (ground-perspective) study of each building or room at a particular site. Both approaches are necessary to advance knowledge on the site/issue, but they require different
methodological approaches and raise different questions.
17
A word about mindshare in the context of studies of the intellectual world of the early second temple period is in order. The concept of mindshare is important in memory studies, because obviously not all memories show the same level of mindshare in a community.
Some carry much weight and are activated much more than others. For instance, and close
to our area, much more mindshare was allocated to the monarchic Temple than to any other
152
II. ON JERUSALEM, EMPIRES, AND KINGS IN THE CONSTRUCTED AND

REMEMBERED (MAINLY) PRESENT AND FUTURE OF THE YEHUDITE LITERATI
A comprehensive analysis of the multiple aspects associated with remembering Jerusalem in the Achaemenid period is well beyond the scope of this or any
essay.18 Given that this contribution is about imperial contexts and prophetic
books, a more helpful starting point is to note that Jerusalem and its temple were,
among many other things, local manifestations of Achaemenid imperial will and
control. The re-building of the temple and of Jerusalem and their rise to prominence in Yehud (over the previous Benjaminite center, which had been prominent
during Neo-Babylonian times) were deeply involved in and associated with imperial power, allocations, and even with taxation, since temples served directly or indirectly also as tax centers and sanctuaries for goods.19 Certainly, the shift of the
building in Jerusalem within the social memory about the monarchic period that existed at
least among the Jerusalem-centered literati of the late Persian period in Yehud; similarly, the
mindshare of a site of memory like Moses, the lawgiver and the greatest prophet was far
larger than Joshua, even if the latter conquered the land, within the world of knowledge of
the community. Both observations teach us a lot about the discourse and the social mindscape of the literati in Yehud. In general, one may say that usually there is a degree of correlation between social mindscape and social mindshare. Social memories with relative large
mindshare in a particular group, are most often those that fit well with the general social
mindscape of the mnemonic community. I discussed the importance of the concept of social
mindshare for studies of social memory in ancient Israel in my Remembering the Prophets
through the Reading and Rereading of a Collection of Written Prophetic Books in Yehud:
Methodological Considerations and Explorations, in Remembering and Forgetting in Judahs
Early Second Temple Period (eds. E. Ben Zvi and C. Levin; FAT 85; Tbingen: Mohr-Siebeck,
2012), 1744.
18
I explored some of these aspects in three separate essays: Ehud Ben Zvi, Exploring Jerusalem as a Site of Memory in the Late Persian and Early Hellenistic Period, in Memory and
the City in Ancient Israel (ed. D. Edelman and E. Ben Zvi; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, forthcoming); idem, Shaping and Balancing Memories of pre-David and pre-Israelite Jerusalem in
late Persian Yehud, in Urban Dreams and Realities: The City in Ancient Cultures (ed. A. Kemezis;
Leiden: Brill, forthcoming); and idem, Jerusalem as a Mnemonic System and the Social
Mindscape of Late Persian/Early Hellenistic Yehud/Judah, in a forthcoming volume (in
French), edited by Frederic Amsler and Christophe Nihan. A full exploration of these aspects
would require several monographs.
19
Of course, this is not to deny that Ramat Rael did serve as an imperial taxation center, which is evident from the recent excavations led by O. Lipschits. On the Jerusalemite
temple and taxation, see also J. Schaper, The Jerusalem Temple as an Instrument of the
Achaemenid Fiscal Administration, VT 45 (1995): 52839; idem, The Temple Treasury
Committee in the Times of Nehemiah and Ezra, VT 47 (1997): 200206. For an argument
against the position that the Jerusalem Temple played a role in imperial taxation; see P. R.
Bedford, The Economic Role of the Jerusalem Temple in Achaemenid Judah: Comparative
Perspectives, in Shai le-Sara Japhet: Studies in the Bible, its Exegesis and its Language (ed. M. BarAsher et al; Jerusalem: Bialik Institute; 2007), 3*20* (14*20*). A serious discussion of Bedfords argument is beyond the scope of this contribution. It may be noticed that during Hellenistic times, the temple played, in one way or another, an important role in taxation see,
EHUD BEN ZVI
153
capital of the province of Yehud to Jerusalem, and the likely construction of some
type of wall around it,20 required imperial decisions.21 The situation that results
stands then, among others, as a marker of Achaemenid power.
Leaving aside the highly debated proposal of a Persian imperial authorization of the Pentateuch,22 the entire authoritative literatureincluding the collection of prophetic booksadopted by the Jerusalem-centered literati, was to some
extent the outcome (and representation) of locations and institutions directly associated and representing, among other things, imperial power.
The association of Torah, proper cult, the welfare and centrality of Jerusalem
with imperial power (and control) is, as is well known, most explicit in EzraNehemiah. The book is later than the Persian period, but it is difficult to assume
that the underlying discursive grammar of the book evolved only and ex nihilo
after the fall of the Persian empire. In addition, the book of Isaiah puts such a position to rest with the glorification of Cyrus for the sake of Israel and Jerusalem (see
below). Also, one has to take into consideration that the Achaemenid empire was
remembered as the worldly power that commanded the rebuilding of temple, enabled the restoration of the settlement in the land (see memories of the return) 23
and of the city, and thus, indirectly, what emerged from them.24
for instance, the tribute and taxation demanded by the Seleukid kings from Judaea are
often expressed in the sources as a lump sum of silver, to be provided by the high priest
acting as tax collector (G. G. Aperghis, Jewish Subjects and Seleukid Kings: A Case Study of
Economic Interaction, in The Economies of Hellenistic Societies, Third to First Centuries BC [ed. Z.
H. Archibald, J. K. Davies, and V. Garielsen; Oxford/New York: Oxford University Press, 2011],
1941, here 35).
In any event, even if for the sake of the argument one were to accept Bedfords position
concerning Achaemenid Yehud, there can be no doubt that (rebuilt) Jerusalem would still
be remembered as also an Achaemenid project.
20
On the (highly debated) matter of the walls of Jerusalem, see Israel Finkelstein, Ido
Koch, and Oded Lipschits, The Mound on the Mount: A Possible Solution to the Problem
with Jerusalem, JHebS 11 (2011): article 12 (which is freely available online at
http://www.jhsonline.org/Articles/article_159.pdf) and the bibliography mentioned there.
The essay appears under the same title in Perspectives on Hebrew Scriptures VIII (ed. Ehud Ben
Zvi; Piscataway: Gorgias Press, 2012), 31739.
21
Even if taken at the level of satrapy. Not everything in an empire has to go to the
highest level of central administration.
22
On the matter, see, in particular, Konrad Schmid, Persian Imperial Authorization as a
Historical Problem and as a Biblical Construct: A Plea for Distinctions in the Current Debate,
in The Pentateuch as Torah: New Models for Understanding its Promulgation and Acceptance (ed. G.
N. Knoppers and B. M. Levinson; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 2338 and bibliography
there. Cf. James W. Watts, ed., Persia and Torah: The Theory of Imperial Authorization of the Pentateuch (SBLSymS 17; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2001).
23
For the present purposes it is irrelevant that the land was historically not completely
empty or that the return could not have involved massive migration to the empty
land. What is relevant is that the Persian empire was construed and remembered as the
power that allowed the return, and thus, the return was construed and remembered as
(inter alia) a manifestation of the worldly power of Persia; even if the latter was construed, as
expected, as ultimately stemming from YHWHs power).
154
Out of this background, a generative grammar of images and memories

emerges, with a strong preference for constructing and remembering the Persian
empire (in contradistinction to other universal empires of the past) in a very positive light. This grammar generates both active acts of imagination and substantial discursive omissions. This was, however, not the only generative grammar at
work. Processes of formation of self-identity conducive to social reproduction required that Israel be imagined as the (adopted) son of its own deity, that Jerusalem and its temple be construed as the cosmic center and the place from which the
divine instruction will come, and that Israel itself be (self-)imagined as a primary
worldly agent, not a secondary (or lower) one. These considerations led to preferences to remember a future that goes well beyond the Persian empire and to the
allocation of far more mindshare to these memories of the future than to those of
re-foundation under the Persian empire.
All these general observations require further elaboration. To begin with, the
lack of explicit criticism and above all lack of memories about any announcements
of punishment/judgment against Persia by YHWH in prophetic literature is, no
doubt, a salient feature of the collection of prophetic books. It stands in sharp contrast with the treatment allocated to Assyria and Babylon (see section III) and to
any country or people of any significance known to the remembering community,
temporally located within the time-frame portrayed in the collection of prophetic
books, including Israel and Judah.
At times, it has been suggested that little can be learned from this observation, beyond the perils for the community that arise from criticizing the ruling
power, and the actual impossibility of such criticism. But several considerations
argue against this position. First, although one should not disregard concrete perI discussed the matter of the memory of the return to the empty land elsewhere. See
Ehud Ben Zvi, Total Exile, Empty Land and the General Intellectual Discourse in Yehud, in
The Concept of Exile in Ancient Israel and its Historical Contexts (ed. E. Ben Zvi and Ch. Levin;
BZAW 404; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2010), 15568.
24
I want to stress that I am not maintaining that the community in Yehud was a colonial institution that forcefully colonized Judahites who remained in the land after the destruction of Jerusalem. In fact, elsewhere I argued against historical reconstructions of the Persian period based on claimed long-term conflict between returnees and remainees. See, for
instance, Ben Zvi Total Exile; and idem, Inclusion in and Exclusion from Israel as Conveyed by the Use of the Term Israel in Postmonarchic Biblical Texts, in The Pitcher is Broken:
Memorial Essays for Gsta W. Ahlstrm (ed. S. W. Holloway and L. K. Handy; JSOTSup 190; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1995), 95149.
Similarly, I am not maintaining that ancient Israel (as understood in Yehud) was a (colonial) Persian invention. Persian activities may have facilitated the development of certain
(theological, text-centered) ideas of Israel, but this is a far cry from invention. This (theological, text-centered) Israel was the invention of Jerusalem-centered Yehud, a province that
existed, as any other, within an imperial system. Its discourse and the social/political conditions in which it evolved could not but reflect imperial circumstances. To say that Israel
was an invention of the Persian center is as absurd as stating that because the persecutions
of Antiochus IV facilitated the development of late Second Temple discourses, Antiochus IV
invented the latter.
EHUD BEN ZVI
155
ils that historical agents might have faced if they criticized the empire, from a systemic perspective, any strong emphasis on the impossibility of criticism is problematic. There are numerous cross-cultural examples of explicit and implicit acts of
cultural resistance.25 Moreover, the existence of a public transcript does not negate the possibility of a hidden transcript/s. In addition, even if, during Achaemenid days, one were to grant that it was impossible for Yehudites to criticize in
any way or form or to construe divine pronouncements that would involve the fall
of the Persian Empire, even if in the far future, why would that be impossible during the early (or for that matter later) Hellenistic times?26 These considerations
indicate that the lack of memories of announcements of doom against Persia or
negative characterizations of it was not only the result of imperial coercion. There
existed in Yehud a strong preference to set the Persian empire aside from those of
other nations (e.g., Babylon, Assyria) and glorify it, because by doing so the community was, within their own discourse, indirectly legitimizing and enhancing
positive self-constructions of Jerusalem, its temple, Israel, and its Jerusalemcentered divine instruction along with the authoritative literature that encoded it.
To be sure, a salient positive character is not created only through the lack of
negative characterization, as remarkable as this may be in this particular context.
To begin with, as I discussed elsewhere,27 studies on social memory show that there
exists a cross-cultural tendency to organize memory so as to coalesce around a few
main symbolic figures/sites of memory; these are the great heroes of the past
who draw the attention of the remembering community to their own (construed)
personal figures and to what they had done, including institutions that they had
established.28 Since Cyrus served as the greatest and the most positive site of
25
Historians of Judaism/s cannot but bring to mind the extreme case of Toldot Yeshu.
This very polemical text was kept for centuries. For recent discussion, see Peter Schfer,
Michael Meerson, and Yaacov Deutsch, eds., Toledot Yeshu (The Life Story of Jesus) Revisited: A
Princeton Conference (TSAJ 143; Tbingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011). Of course, Toldot Yeshu itself
was an excellent case of (polemical) hybridity, as it appropriated Christian narratives and in
polemical ways turned them upside-down. The same holds true for Sefer Zerubavel. See David
Biale, Counter-History and Jewish Polemics Against Christianity: The Sefer Toldot Yeshu and
the Sefer Zerubavel, Jewish Social Studies 6 (1999): 13045.
26
One may add further: Should we imagine that the Persian center would consistently
care about Yehudite prophecies about a distant future, or even care enough to read and
reread prophetic books that existed only in Hebrew and could be read only by Yehudite
literati? One has to keep in mind that Yehud was a marginal, poor province which in reality
could not revolt against Persian rule and that the Achaemenid empire was not a 20th-century
totalitarian state.
27
Ehud Ben Zvi, Exploring the Memory of Moses The Prophet In Late Persian/Early
Hellenistic Period Yehud/Judah, in Remembering Biblical Figures in the Late Persian and Early
Hellenistic Periods: Social Memory and Imagination (ed. D. V. Edelman and E. Ben Zvi; Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2013), 33564.
28
Although social memory is historically contingent, the mentioned processes tend to
be comparable (though not identical) across different cultures and societies (though certainly not all). This is so because they relate to the ways in which social memory and social
mindscapes are likely to be shaped. For comparative purposes, with processes in a very dif-
156
memory of a Persian in Yehud (and in Greece as well,29 and perhaps in other ethnocultural groups at around this time), it is only expected that his figure would symbolically embody all Persians30 and that he would be associated in Yehuds social
memory with the beginning of the rebuilding process.31 The re-builder of the Temple could not but be construed as a very positive character.32 He was not of Israel,
since he had to be Persian, but a mnemonic tendency to partially Davidize him is to
be expected.33 It is thus not the result of random chance that Cyrus is presented
and remembered as YHWHs shepherd and anointed,34 or that both David and Cyrus
(the founder and the re-founder of the temple, respectively) serve as sites of
memory that embody their respective peoples.35 One may add also explicit referferent society and time, but still focused on the importance of main figures for social
memory, one may look at Christopher Kaplonski, Truth, History and Politics in Mongolia: The
Memory of Heroes (London: Routledge, 2004), esp. 18286.
29
See Lynette Mitchell, Remembering Cyrus the Persian: Exploring Monarchy and
Freedom in Classical Greece, in Remembering Biblical Figures in the Late Persian and Early Hellenistic Periods: Social Memory and Imagination (ed. D. V. Edelman and E. Ben Zvi; Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2013), 28392.
30
See the contribution by Joseph Blenkinsopp to this volume and particularly his analysis of Isa 55:35 (cf. J. Goldingay, The Message of Isaiah 4055: A Literary-Theological Commentary
[London: T & T Clark, 2005], 54950).
31
See Isa 44:28; 45:17, 1213; 2 Chr 36:22; cf. Ezra 1; 4:3. Note also [t]he expectation
that the city devastated by the Babylonians will be restored by Cyrus is frequently expressed
(45:13; 49:1418; 51:3), as stated by Joseph Blenkinsopp, Isaiah 4055: A New Translation with
Introduction and Commentary (AB 19A; New York: Doubleday, 2002), 247.
If, for the sake of the argument, one were to grant Albertzs position that originally the
Persian king in Isa 40:152:12 was Darius not Cyrus, that Cyrus eventually became the king
would be most meaningful and, needless to say, consistent with the systemic preference for
a memory that has Cyrus in that role. See Rainer Albertz, Darius in Place of Cyrus: The First
Edition of Deutero-Isaiah (Isaiah 40.152.12), JSOT 27 (2003): 37183.
32
Central institutions in antiquity tended to develop social memories within which they
were founded by great personages of the past, not by nobodies or evil characters. It is
not by chance that the temple in Jerusalem was associated with the figures of David and
Solomon and that on the whole these characters tended to be lionized.
33
Note that Zerubabbel, the Israelite/Yehudite associated with building the temple,
ends up being evoked as a Davidide in 1 Chr 3:19 and is elevated in Haggai 2:2122. Centuries
later, other central figures were partially Davidized: Jesus, Hillel, and Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi.
In all these cases, the construction and the remembering of these figures as Davidides served
important discursive and ideological functions in the relevant social groups. On general
matters of social memory, mindscape, and socially construed genealogies, see Eviatar Zerubavel, Ancestors and Relatives: Genealogy, Identity, and Community (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2012).
34
See, for instance, Isa 44:28; 45:1; cf. 2 Sam 5: 2 (// 1Chr 11:2); 7:7 (// 2Chr 17:6); Ps 78:71
72; 2 Sam 19:22; 23:1; 2 Chr 6:42.
35
David is the real founder of the temple in Chronicles. In Kings, the story is different
as Solomon has a more important role. Given general, transcultural mnemonic tendencies,
one would have expected a preference for a memory of David as both founder of the dynasty
and founder of the temple, and particularly so since he is the founder of Israels Jerusalem
(i.e., his conqueror). The existence of a truncated expectation in Samuel-Kings went hand in
EHUD BEN ZVI
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ences to the elevated character of Cyrus36 and the implied central mnemonic narrative conveyed by the trajectory from Isaiah chapters 3639 to chapters 4048,
i.e., from Hezekiah to Cyrus. All these contribute much to the construction of an
important site of memory, namely, the foreign king who was worthy of being selected by YHWH to initiate the rebuilding of city and temple.37
Against this background of the lionization of Cyrus, the most heuristically
helpful question seems to be (at least to me) not whether one may find somewhere
some underlying or implied criticism of Cyrus or the Persians in the prophetic or
other books, or in general in the discourse of the period.38 It is also not whether
one may argue that Cyruss image could have been somewhat downgraded because
he was remembered among Yehudite literati as one whose mission was just for the
sake of Israel, or whose success reflects the power of YHWH, a deity whom he does
not know (Isa 45:4). In fact, that is difficult to argue. His characterization as one
who does not know YHWH is basically a way to keep him Persian and, in fact, as a
kind of embodiment of Persia.39 None of the other observations about his charachand with the need of a memorable story explaining why the expectation was truncated
and, of course, removing any possible stain on David, at least concerning this matter. Chronicles goes further as it characterizes David as the founder (though not the actual builder)
of the temple and by communicating a close association of the temple with both David and
Solomon, but there is already a strong echo of this in 2 Kgs 21:7. Moreover, one has to keep
in mind that Chronicles and Samuel-Kings shaped together a single general mnemonic system in the late Persian/early Hellenistic period. The social memory of the community at the
time was influenced by both, and its readings of one corpora could not but inform and be
informed by readings of the other. I am currently completing an essay for a collected essays
volume on this topic. In the meantime and on converging lines between Chronicles and
some voices in Samuel-Kings see my previous, Are There Any Bridges Out There? How Wide
Was the Conceptual Gap between the Deuteronomistic History and Chronicles?, in Community Identity in Judean Historiography: Biblical and Comparative Perspectives (ed. G. N. Knoppers
and K. A. Ristau; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2009), 59-86.
36
See, for instance, Isa 44:(24)28; 45:18, 1213. Goldingay, Message of Isaiah, 253300,
describes all of Isa 44:2445:25 as the triumph of Cyrus. See also Cyruss background presence in Isaiah 4048, which is correctly stressed by Blenkinsopp (see his essay in this volume); cf. esp. Isa 48:1215.
37
It is worth noting that I am focusing neither on the putative words of a prophet called
Deutero-Isaiah nor on the world portrayed in these sections of the book of Isaiah, but on
memories evoked by reading this book in late Persian (or early Hellenistic) Judah. The readership most likely imagined Cyrus as the beginning of the reconstruction. That Cyrus was
imagined in Judah as having a warm spot in his heart for Jerusalem and as YHWHs victor,
was not categorically different, from a social memory perspective, from the case of a later
community imagining and remembering something very similar in relation to Alexander
(see Ant. 11.32539).
38
See the thoughtful contribution of Erich S. Gruen, Persia Through the Jewish Looking-Glass, in Cultural Borrowings and Ethnic Appropriations in Antiquity (ed. E. S. Gruen; Oriens
et Occidens 8; Stuttgart: Franz Steiner, 2005), 90104; and in an extended version, under the
same title, in Jewish Perspectives on Hellenistic Rulers (ed. T. Rajak et al; Hellenistic Culture and
Society 50; Berkeley: University of California Press, 2007), 5375.
39
Both in Greeces and Yehuds memory, Cyrus is always a Persian king. This said, Cyrus
may be elevated within this discourse by texts that evoke a memory of him as similar to
158
terization portray Cyrus in a negative light. The statement that he was chosen by
YHWH for the sake of Israel is not only to be expected, given that the text is written
for and by Israel, but also would have been appreciated by the empire itself and its
propaganda.40 It is also an excellent example of appropriation and reshaping of
imperial memories. Cyruss success was turned, discursively, into YHWHs and Israels success. Such appropriations, needless to say, facilitated both adaptation to
and participation in the imperial world and the kind of resistance to foreign ideology and even mindscape that allowed for inner group self-valorization and social
reproduction.
From a heuristic perspective, it seems to me that the most helpful question for
the purpose of understanding the discourse of the period is of a different kind:
namely, given that he was so great, why is there relatively little about Cyrus in the
prophetic literature (and in the general repertoire of authoritative texts in Yehud)?
To be sure, part of the answer is that the collection of prophetic books drew
much of the attention and mindshare of the reading community to: (a) the catastrophe of 586 BCE (and thus also to its forerunners [the fall of Samaria] and counterparts [the deliverance of Jerusalem in 701 BCE]); and (b) the utopian future. Cyrus and the entire process of rebuilding the city and temple were thus sandwiched
between the two and, according to the system of preferences governing social
memory in Yehud, they were left with less social mindshare and textual space.
This answer, as correct as it is, raises an even more important underlying issue. Just as the existing second temple of the Persian period was construed as far
less important in the broad scheme of things, and thus far less worthy of being
remembered than the one of the past and the future utopian one that would
replace it, so Cyrus was far less important than the future utopian king who would
replace him (YHWH, or in some versions, a highly elevated, more-than-human Davidide).41 And so the future empire that would replace the Persian empire was
much more important and worthy of being remembered than the Persian empire
itself.
The last observation is particularly important for any study of the impact of
world imperial circumstances in the production of the prophetic books collecIsrael/Jacob; see the image envelope in Isa 48:1215 created by the use of forms from the
root , but notice also the presence of a difference as well. Note also the similarities and
differences evoked by
in the book: Isa 48:15 (the caller is YHWH, and the called is Cyrus) and Isa 51:2 (the caller is YHWH, and the called is Abraham); and see also Isa 41:9; 42:6;
49:1 (the caller is YHWH, and the called is the Servant/Israel).
40
Cf. the Cyrus Cylinder or the Verse Account of Nabonidus.
41
For memories of a future in which Davidides are absent see, for instance, those
evoked by Isaiah 4066; Jer 50:45, 1920; Hos 2:1822; 14:69; Obadiah; Zephaniah 3. For
memories of a future with a Davidide, see, for instance, those evoked by Isa 9:56; 11:19; Jer
23:56; 30:811; 33:1426; Ezek 34: 2330; 37:1528; Hos 3:5; Amos 9:1115; Mic 5:1. It is worth
noting that this Davidide was already imagined as highly elevated and very different from
any image of a monarchic David or Solomon that existed in the social memory of the community (see Isa 9:57; 11:19; Hos 3:5).
EHUD BEN ZVI
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tion. A future world without a world-empire was probably beyond the imagination
of the community and its ability to experience (virtually, of course) the future
through their readings of (authoritative) future-constructing texts. This being so,
the logic of the situation and of the discourse in Yehud led to a clear outcome: the
good empire must be superseded by a utopian empire, YHWHs empire, with its
capital in Jerusalem.
Within the logic of the discourse of Yehud, a world permanently run by YHWH
through kings and empires other than Israel or its king, with a marginal Jerusalem,
was inherently unstable, even if these kings (and, indirectly, YHWH) ran it for the
sake of Israel (Isa 45:5). An orderly and stable world was conceived as one that
could only be grounded on true not illusory knowledge. But in the Achaemenid
imperial world, even the great Cyrus, YHWHs anointed, does not know YHWH, does
not know the reason for his successes or the real purpose of his endeavors. Cyruss own knowledge is illusory and, in fact, mis-knowledge. He is certainly not
alone, however. YHWH is the creator and ruler of the world, but this deity is mostly
unknown throughout the earthly world. Jerusalem is the city truly at the center of
the world, but it is a very small village unknown to most inhabitants of the
world, and thus it cannot fully fulfill its cosmic roles. This Jerusalem of the Persian empire is not, in the earthly world, a universal source of wisdom/torah (e.g.,
Isa 2:3; Mic 4:2). It is not light or the place of light to the world (Isa 60:13, 1920).
Thus, the Persian imperial world is one in which the truth was a secret known
only to those in Yehud who are able to read the authoritative books or have others
who read these books to them. This secret is not manifested in the world, and is
hidden by a world that actually looks like a book of mis-knowledge. Such a world
cannot stand forever, even if Cyrus is its earthly king.
Such a world is explicitly contrary to YHWHs wishes (see, for instance, Isa
45:57). Even when this world was imagined as peaceful and seemingly stable, it
was remembered as one doomed to fall (see Zech 1:817) and to be replaced.
The alternative, future, yet continuously remembered empire of Israel/YHWH
(see below) was, of course, not a minor site of memory with marginal social mindshare. Not only was it evoked by numerous texts in prophetic literature (e.g., Isa
2:24; 42:1, 6; 45:14; 49:7, 23; 51:45; 56:67; 60:9; Mic 4:13; Zeph 2:11; Hag 2:78;
Zech 8:2022; 9:10), but also it was indispensable for developing the concept of
what a prophetic book was supposed to be. It was the ultimate end-point of the
plot in the main (historical) meta-narrative of ancient Israel, and a source of
hope for the community.
These memories of the future facilitated accommodation to present imperial
circumstances, in practical terms, by resisting hegemonic claims on what the
community considered of most importance from their own perspective. It rejected
any aspect of imperial hegemonic narratives and world constructions that contradicted the self-understanding of the Yehudite community. These memories of the
future, so commonly evoked by prophetic books, produced alternative narratives
that allowed the community to hold fast to its sense of self and thus its social reproduction over time.
160
Since these memories of the future empire were such core features of Yehuds
social mindscape (or at least that of its literati and likely its elite), their explicit
presence could not have been restricted to prophetic texts. One would anticipate
that they would appear in other types of texts, within which memories of the future could be encoded, and this is actually the case (e.g., Ps 22:30; 68:30; 72:810;
96:710; 97:67).
The literati in Yehud, and those who were influenced by them, imagined a future empire, but how did they imagine it?42 Certainly, and despite reference to
David, it was not in terms of their (social) memories of the Davidic/Solomonic
empire, despite the general tendency in the ancient Near East towards restorationist images. For Yehud, the imagined future would not be like the imagined (glorious) past. Several reasons account for this choice: for one, within their main historical narrative, this glorious past led to catastrophe. Moreover, the Davidic/Solomonic empire was not construed as a world or universal empire.43 Yet,
YHWH was a universal king and thus his kingdom had to be construed as universal.
Many of the basic imperial topoi that were used to imagine and remember this
future empire resembled the image of the actual empire of the time, and through
it, those of previous empires.44 A few examples will suffice to make the point.
Images such as those of peoples flowing to the new imperial center (Zion) and
bringing their gifts to Zion and to the king, gifts of treasures from various peoples
or human resources gathered to and for the sake of the new imperial city,45 do involve adaptations and reversals of the common imperial image of the nations paying homage to the king of kings, despite the substantial variety among them.46 The
construction of Jerusalem/Zion as the imperial city at the center of the world, is
42
I have previously discussed some features of this ideal future or sets of related futures. In the following paragraphs I will revisit and further develop some highlights of my
previous discussion that are particularly relevant to the discussion here. See Ehud Ben Zvi,
On Social Memory and Identity Formation in Late Persian Yehud: A Historians Viewpoint
with a Focus on Prophetic Literature, Chronicles, and the Dtr. Historical Collection, in Texts,
Contexts and Readings in Postexilic Literature: Explorations into Historiography and Identity Negotiation in Hebrew Bible and Related Texts (ed. L. Jonker; FAT II/53; Tbingen: Mohr-Siebeck, 2011),
95148 (13541).
43
Texts such as 1 Kgs 5:914 and 1 Kings 10 shape a larger horizon to Solomons fame
and cultural influence, but his empire was not imagined/construed as a world/universalempire.
44
As is well-known, the Achaemenid empire used and reshaped ideological motifs that
go back to the Neo-Assyrian empire.
45
See, for instance, Isa 2:24; 45:14; 55:35; 60:1016; Jer 3:17; Mic 4:14; Hag 2:78; Zech
10:2022.
46
See, e.g., DNa, DE, DZc. For an English translation of DNa, the inscription in the upper
registrar in his tomb in Naq-i Rustam, see A. Kuhrt, The Persian Empire, 2:5023; for one of
DZc, the inscription of Darius I on a stela set up at Kabret in Egypt, see A. Kuhrt, The Persian
Empire, 2:486; for DE, the inscription of Darius on Mt. Elvend; see A. Kuhrt, The Persian Empire,
1:301, 304. The latter is almost identical to the inscription of Xerxes (XE) that stands next to
it.
EHUD BEN ZVI
161
another case of appropriation and reversal of common imperial images, with a

very longue dure. The royal garden in which the king is supposed to spend time is
now in future Jerusalem (and the Temple) and evokes Eden.47 Certainly, YHWH was
imagined as the great king, king of kings, king of countries containing all kinds of
men, king of this earth far and wide.48 It is Israel, not the Assyrian king, who is
remembered as a light to the nations (Isa 42:6). The empire, once it is established, is orderly and without conflict; in fact, it is one in which history reaches
its end, as the world becomes intrinsically stable (and peaceful). This is again a
(modified) version of the image that the Achaemenid empire tried to project.
From a heuristic perspective, it is perhaps more interesting to note the ways
in which this new empire might have been imagined as structurally different from
existing empires or empires of the past. One obvious difference is that, at the center of the Persian empire, there were the separate figures of the king and of Ahura
Mazd.49 There was, however, a very strong current in Yehudite discourse (and in
its prophetic books) that remembered a future empire at whose center the traditional kingly and divine figures would collapse into one; YHWH alone is king, in that
future empire.
Significantly, often Israel as a whole is also imagined with royal attributes.50 In
which way might this royal role for Israel as a whole be implemented in the new
Empire, since it could not be, in the traditional sense, king? And what does it say
about how kingly-ness is construed in the discourse of the literati in Yehud? I will
return to this question, but at this point it is worth noting that, at times when nonYHWH royal figures are imagined, they are imagined in terms quite opposite to
those associated with worldly kings (e.g., the servant of YHWH in Isaiah 4055; the
king of Zech 9:910). There is here a clear tendency to imagine an imperial world
different from any present or even elevated form of the present imperial world.
For instance, at times, the community imagined and remembered dramatic
military confrontations in the period leading to the establishment of the empire,51
but unlike the cases of present and past empires, no human hero/king took a central role as the successful warrior (and most masculine male) who established the
47
See Xenophon, Oec. 4.13 (cited in A. Kuhrt, The Persian Empire, 2:510); and on Jerusalem,
see Terje Stordalen, Heaven on Earth Or Not? Jerusalem as Eden in Biblical Literature, in
Beyond Eden: The Biblical Story of Paradise (Genesis 23) and Its Reception History (ed. K. Schmid
and Ch. Riedweg; FAT II/34; Tbingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008), 2857, (3640); and Ben Zvi,
Exploring Jerusalem as a Site of Memory.
48
On this motif, see M. Liverani, Memorandum on the Approach to Historiographic
Texts, Or 42 (1973): 17894 (18991).
49
And those of the king and of Assur and of Marduk, in the Neo-Assyrian and NeoBabylonian empires, respectively.
50
See, for instance Isa 55:35; note the characterization of Israel as the son of the deity, e.g. Hos 11:1. Israel may take the traditional slot of a king (e.g., Isa 45:14; and outside prophetic literature, see, for instance, social memories of Israels covenant with YHWH) and see
the attributes of Israel in Hos 2:21.
51
See, among many others, Ezek 39; Joel 4:921; Zeph 3:820; Hag 2:67; Zech 14.
162
empire through his military might (with the help of the gods, of course). Instead
the successful warrior is YHWH.
Significantly, most great kings set their path to establishing their empire by
waging offensive wars, not by defending their capital,52 yet YHWH is often imagined
in these terms. This is not an empire based on any heroic actions by humans, but
by YHWH and his actions. The social memories associated with the foundation of
YHWHs empire were very different from those associated with the foundation of
the Persian empire (or any other empire).
At the center of YHWHs (future) empire stands Jerusalem, not as the city of a
human king, but as YHWHs city, and as the city of the temple. People will flow to
Jerusalem to receive torah (in the sense of true divine teachings) and wisdom from
Zion, not from a new Solomon (contrast Isa 2:24 and Mic 4:14 with 1 Kgs 5:914
and 1 Kings 10). It is a wisdom that is institutionalized (temple and literati, representing Israel) not personalized (a human king). The temple/Zion is the source of
blessing in this imperial world. To be sure, this future empire was YHWHs but within the discourse of the community, this meant that it had to be construed as a Zion/Temple/torah-centered (world) empire.
Of course, it was also Israels empire, but Israel was also construed as Zion/
Temple- and torah-centered, and to a large extent as encapsulating the very nature of the empire. This means, of course, that in practical terms, this is an empire
in which at its center are priests and literati. To imagine that Israel was kingly in
this context meant that, from a discursive and ideological perspective, a torahcentered community53 was kingly. Of course, it also meant, from a different perspective, that the literati themselves, indirectly, were kingly, too.
Since this is an empire at whose center stood Temple and torah, the community in Yehud had to deal with the issue of the partial acculturation of the nations
other than Israel. It is worth noting that in this regard, the empire of YHWH was
imagined as somewhat different from the Achaemenid empire. In the latter, ethnocultural groups were not required to partially (but significantly) Persianize themselves, nor were they required to acculturate themselves by following a single path
that leads to a common end-stage for all non-Persian groups.
52
Or, even failing initially to successfully defend it. See Zech 14:1. For YHWHS defeating
the enemy in Israels/YHWHS land, see also Ezek 39:120 and Isa 14:2427.
53
One may say that sociologically, the Jerusalemite temple had an important hand in
legitimizing the communitys Torah, but discursively and ideologically, torah legitimized the
temple. For the present purposes, the latter is the crucial observation. On these matters, see
Ehud Ben Zvi, Imagining Josiahs Book and the Implications of Imagining it in Early Persian
Yehud, in Berhrungspunkte: Studien zur Sozial- und Religionsgeschichte Israels und seiner Umwelt:
Festschrift fr Rainer Albertz zu seinem 65. Geburtstag (ed. R. Schmitt, I. Kottsieper, and J. Whrle;
AOAT 250; Mnster: Ugarit Verlag, 2008), 193212. Cf. Thomas C. Rmer, Transformations in
Deuteronomistic and Biblical Historiography: On Book-Finding and other Literary Strategies, ZAW 109 (1997): 111; idem, Du Temple au Livre: Lidologie de la centralization dans
lhistoriographie deutronomiste, in Rethinking the Foundations: Historiography in the Ancient
World and in the Bible: Essays in Honour of John Van Seters (ed. T. C. Rmer and S. L. McKenzie;
BZAW 294; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2000), 20725; idem, The So-Called Deuteronomistic History: A
Sociological, Historical and Literary Introduction (London: T & T Clark, 2005), 55, 17583.
EHUD BEN ZVI
163
In the future world empire imagined in Yehud, however, the many others
(and the Other) had to be partially Israelitized. In this future world, the main features that were associated with nations other than Israel were replaced by those
typical of Israel, and thus in this universal empire the very identity of these nations is re-formulated.
This is an imperial world that reflects a dream of cultural conquest and assimilation of the Other to the center of the discourse of the future empire, and of
the community that dreams such dreams.54
It is worth noting that in the universal empire of YHWH, the king (YHWH) was
imagined as actively desiring and acting towards the acculturation/partial Israelitization of the Other. Kings in historical world empires, be they Assyrian, Babylonian, or Persian, did not champion cultural and identity shifts that would turn
entire peripheral populations into partially inner groups. Kings did not have
world-wide cultural missions.55 To be sure, processes of acculturation did happen,
but they were for the most part the outcome of processes of intergroupal exchanges. Although they were likely influenced by matters of prestige, social capital and the like, they were not the result of central, monarchic planning. 56
54
See, among many examples, Isa 56:18.

As shown, concerning Assyria, in Angelika Berlejung, The Assyrians in the West: Assyrianization, Colonialism, Indifference, or Development Policy?, in Congress Volume Helsinki
2010 (ed. M. Nissinen; VTSup 148, Leiden: Brill, 2012), 2160. Of course, the same is true of the
Hellenistic kingdoms. Neither Alexander nor any of the later Hellenistic kings engaged
themselves in a world mission of Hellenization. In fact, Hellenistic kings often showed an
ability to adapt and appropriate local ideologies and cultures; see, for instance, the famous
Borsippa Cylinder of Antiochos I (268 BCE). On these issues and the problematic historical
character and background of once common claims about Hellenistic kingdoms as promoters
of forced, institutional Hellenization and related positions about the nature of these kingdoms/empires, see, among others, Amlie Kuhrt and Susan M. Sherwin-White, From Samarkhand to Sardis: A New Approach to the Seleucid Empire (London: Duckworth, 1993), 14187;
Manning, The Last Pharaohs, esp. ch. 2 (2954). See also J. Ma, Kings, in A Companion to the
Hellenistic World (ed. A. Erskine; Oxford: Blackwell, 2003), 177195. It must be kept in mind
that empires were based on negotiation, not negotiation among equals to be sure, but still
negotiation with local groups and particularly their elites. This is certainly true of the Hellenistic empires, see, for instance, Manning, The Last Pharaohs, J. K. Davies, The Interpenetration of Hellenistic Sovereignties, in The Hellenistic World: New Perspectives (ed. D. Ogden;
London: Duckworth and The Classical Press of Wales, 2002), 1-21; R. Strootman, Kings and
Cities in the Hellenistic Age, in Political Culture in the Greek City After the Classical Age (ed. R.
Alston, O. van Nijf, C. Williamson; Groningen-Royal Holloway Studies on the Greek City After
the Classical Age 2; Leuven: Peeters, 2011), 14153. Through these processes of negotiations,
kings tended to appropriate and partially resignify local cultural traditions and locals tended
to appropriate and resignify some Hellenistic traditions; both groups thus tended to create a
kind of ever shifting third-space in which both could interact each for their one benefit.
Similar considerations apply not only to ancient empires, but modern as well.
56
This explains, for instance, why the initiative to become a polis most often originated
within local groups, not Hellenistic kings. Concerning the general cultural processes see note
above.
55
164
YHWHs/Israels future empire was remembered in this respect as having at its

center priorities that were not those of past or future kings of universal empires.
This again says much about the way in which Israel conceived its future kinglyness (see above).
The construction of YHWHs/Israels empire discussed here represents underdog dreams of empire. They are proof positive of an internalization (and adaptation) of the imperial discourses. They represent a clear case of resistance through
the creation of meta-narratives and the act of remembering and experiencing (virtually) what they tell. It may also be some form of social (over?)response (even if
not necessarily self-conscious) to the partial Arameanization of Yehud during
the Persian period,57 now turned into a memory of a future partial (but far more
substantial) Israelitization of the entire world.
The question of the partial Israelitization of the Other was bound to raise the
question of whether the Other may change enough to be able to join the center of
the future empire. Although foreigners loyal to the Persian king served in peripheral roles in the court of the Persian king, could be awarded honors and rewards
and even invited to the Kings table, they could not become members of the imperial inner circle. Not incidentally, intermarriage at the level of the Persian king was
not allowed, whether involving foreign women or even Persian women who were
not from the nobility. 58 What about future Israel? Would they be able to live in the
imperial court (i.e., Jerusalem) and receive royal rewards? What about joining the
Kings table? Would they be able to become full members of the inner circle (i.e.,
priests) and intermarry with members of this circle? These questions require a
57
Note both the use of Aramaic in Yehud and the introduction of the Aramaic lapidary
script. On the latter, see Oded Lipschits and David S. Vanderhoft, The Yehud Stamp Impressions:
A Corpus of Inscribed Impressions from the Persian and Hellenistic Periods in Judah (Winona Lake:
Eisenbrauns, 2011), 6373; but note also that discontinuity in script is balanced with continuity in design. Note also that despite the introduction and prevalence of Aramaic, the authoritative texts of the community continued to be written in Hebrew. Cf. Ehud Ben Zvi, The
Communicative Message of Some Linguistic Choices, in A Palimpsest: Rhetoric, Ideology, Stylistics and Language Relating to Persian Israel (ed. E. Ben Zvi, D. V. Edelman, and F. Polak; Piscataway: Gorgias Press, 2009), 26990. The question of the partial Arameanization of Yehud
requires a separate in-depth study.
It is worth stressing that the Aramaic language was only one of the important languages of the empire. A simple example suffices: the vast majority of the Persepolis Fortification Texts were not in Aramaic. Processes of partial Arameanization varied among the
different groups constituting the Persian empire in both contents and extent. On Aramaic in
the eastern part of the Achaemenid empire, see Josef Wiesehfer, Ancient Persia: From 550 BC
to 650 AD (London: Tauris, 1996), 118, in which the matter is approached from the perspective
of our knowledge of the situation in the later Parthian empire.
58
See, for instance, Maria Brosius, Greeks at the Persian Court, in Ktesias Welt = Ctesias
World (ed. J. Wiesehfer, R. Rollinger, and G. B. Lanfranchi; Classica et orientalia 1; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2011), 6980.
EHUD BEN ZVI
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separate analysis, but suffice it to say that multiple answers co-existed and balanced each other in the discourse of late Persian/early Hellenistic Yehud/Judah.59
Another aspect of the memories of the future world empire of YHWH/Israel as
construed in late Persian Yehud: It is clear that dreams of the Yehudites did not
focus on the basic structures of worldly world empires (e.g., central administration, regional administrations, army, communications, regular collection of taxes),
and as mentioned above, they did not focus on human military heroes. When people in Yehud imagined and remembered the future empire of YHWH and Israel,
their mindshare was not occupied by the usual functions and personages of any
historical polity (or state). Instead their attention focused on torah, temple,
priests, teachers of torah and the like. They were at the center of the new empire.
Their imagination and memories drew them away from the known politicalwordly realm and towards a world in which the latter does not necessarily constrain social imagination and the generative power of their ideological discourse.
As I mentioned elsewhere, it is precisely in that world that the literati of Yehud
could compete and beat the actual empire, while at the same time, and partially
because of their success in that endeavor, be able to adapt well to it in their regular, but ideological and discursively, less significant life.60 Yet, at the same time,
their very ability to do so, to think in this way, was dependent on the very imperial
circumstances in which they lived. The existence of the community neither required nor depended on the kind of state structures and institutions (including a
standing and thus, costly army) that were vital for even a vassal kingdom such as
monarchic Judah. They were a province in a larger Persian empire.61
59
To be sure, there are texts such as Isa 66:21 and Isa 14:1 or Isa 56:18, but on the other
hand also like Ezek 44:7; and there are, of course, Pentateuchal texts (e.g., Lev 17:89; Num
15:14), but there are many different types of non-Israelites and all these texts require careful
exegesis. Moreover, there is also the traditional concept of a hereditary priesthood, but at
the same time, the line may be expanded to include adopted sons into the lineage, as in
the case of Samuel, implied by the fact that he is an Ephramite in Samuel but a Levite in
Chronicles. I discuss further this particular case and its implications in Ehud Ben Zvi, A
Balancing Act: Settling and Unsettling Issues Concerning Past Divine Promises in Historiographical Texts Shaping Social Memory in the Late Persian Period, in Covenant in the Persian
Period: From Genesis to Chronicles (ed. R. J. Bautch and G. N. Knoppers; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, forthcoming).
60
Ben Zvi, Social Identity and Formation.
61
The basic critique and even rejection of state structures appears too in historiographical books (e.g., 1 Sam 8:1118 may reflect a similar imperial context). But this is also
an issue that demands a separate discussion. It suffices for the present purposes to note that
an ideal future reminiscent of the non-state period of Judges is projected into the ideal future not only in relation to Judah (see Obad 20), but also and paradigmatically in relation to
Egypt (see Isa 19:20). These two images, however, demand a separate discussion as well.
166
III. ON THE REMEMBERED MAIN EMPIRES OF THE PAST

Turning from the universal remembered empire of the future to those of
the past, as mentioned above (end of section I), two imperial powers grabbed most
of the mindshare of the community in the set of social memories encoded and
evoked by the collection of prophetic books: Assyria and Babylon. Assyria was a
universal empire which was associated in the main narrative of Israels past with
the fall of the northern kingdom and its failure to conquer (and destroy) Jerusalem
during the time of Hezekiah. Both Assyrias success against the northern kingdom
and its (remembered) failure before Jerusalem contributed much to its negative
characterization. In the case of the former, this held true for obvious reasons. The
latter held true because military failure was associated with moral failure. The
salience of the deliverance of Jerusalem before the Assyrian army in social memory
shaped a strong mnemonic (and narrative) preference for the presence of great
heroes (YHWH, Hezekiah, Isaiah) and their counterpart, great villains (Sennacherib), confronting each other at the central world place at a crucial time. Thus, the
story of the deliverance of Jerusalem evolved so as to evoke in the community in
Persian Yehud not only the pious behavior of Hezekiah and the successful role of
the prophet Isaiah (contrast with the pair Zedekiah/Jeremiah)and a sense that
Israel has agency and its actions influence historybut also the figure of a hubristic enemy bent on fighting and mocking YHWH, who was thus surely to fall.62
To be sure, there was a strong generative grammar within the discourse of
Yehud that generated an association between universal empire and hubristic behavior. Clearly the king of such an empire occupied the structural/mnemonic slot
of YHWH, the real universal king; moreover, there was the discursive and ideological expectation that the king of a universal empire be constructed/imagined in
Yehudite social memory as one who boasted of his power and trusted those elements (divine, natural, social) upon which he relied (his gods, terrain, fortifications, army and the like)the worst of them went to the extreme of thinking
themselves as para-gods.63 Needless to say, this would constitute hubristic behavior, from the perspective of the literati in Yehud. In fact, the same holds true even
for less than traditional universal empires within their social memory, as the
case of Tyre in Ezekiel 27 and 28 shows.64 But as the case of the Persian empire (see
above) demonstrates beyond any doubt, a strong generative grammar may exist,
but it produces no substantial outcome if other generative grammars hinder or
62
See, for instance, Isa 10:1011; Isa 37:2329 // 1 Kgs 19:2228.

See, for instance, Isa 14:323; Ezek 31; 32. This motif is also part and parcel of imperial
discourses. See Mario Liverani, Kitru, kataru, Mesopotamia 17 (1982): 4366.
64
On Ezekiel 27, see John B. Geyer, Ezekiel 27 and the Cosmic Ship, in Among the Prophets: Language, Image and Structure in the Prophetic Writings (ed. P. R. Davies and D. J. A. Clines;
JSOTSup 144; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1993), 10526. Tyre trusts its wealth and the sea; Jerusalem has the Temple. See Ian D. Wilson, Tyre, a Ship: The Metaphorical World of Ezekiel 27 in
Ancient Judah, ZAW 125 (2013): 24962.
63
EHUD BEN ZVI
167
pre-empt such an outcome.65 Conversely, in the case of the negative characterization of Assyria, tendencies to cast it as hubristic are reinforced by strong preferences to cast it in the most negative terms, due to the social memory dynamics of
remembering the events in the 14th year of Hezekiah and by social memories of
catastrophes suffered by Israel at Assyrian hands, which in turn create a preference for more mindshare for and high descriptions of its fall.66
The Babylonian empire was mnemonically associated for the most part with
the catastrophe of 586 BCE. This association, along with the very fact that Babylon
was a world empire and that it was defeated by Cyrus, generated a strong preference for negative memories and constructions of Babylon.67
To be sure, memories of Egypt are also evoked in the collection of prophetic
books, but not so much as a successful universal empire, but rather as the unsuccessful foil to the winning world empires, Assyria and Babylonia. Of course, if we
include Deuteronomy as the prophetic book of Moses among the prophetic
booksin addition to being part of the pentateuchal, hexateucal, deuteronomistic
historical, and primary history collections68Egypt becomes the prototypical
house of bondage, the place out of which YHWH had to extricate Israel, so Israel
could come into being. Leaving Egypt was thus imagined as leaving the (Egyptian)
empire, as leaving Babylon was imagined as leaving the Babylonian empire. This
set of memories and sites of memories shaped a strong preference for the development of negative characterizations of Egypt, as the archetypal evil empire,
and liberation from it, as the archetypal case of deliverance from this type of imperial subjugation.
An aspect of the imperial construction of Egypt, Assyria, and Babylon is, of
course, their transformation into geographical/spatial sites of memory associated
with Israels exile. Significantly, one can observe a significant shift in the basic
narrative about leaving exile. In two cases, leaving physically the territorial heart
of the empire was remembered as a crucial step towards the establishment of a
torah/temple-centered community. In the first and foundational instance, it was
Egypt, but its slot is taken in the re-foundation part of the main meta-narrative by
Babylon. The plot that the community remembers is thus helical, not cyclical.
To be sure, there are references to other empires. But they were assigned less
textual space in the collection of prophetic books and in the social mindshare of
the community (e.g., Tyre).69 Far more important for historical reconstructions of
65
It is worthwhile to stress that the contrast between images of Assyria and Babylonia
as cruel, pitiless powers, on the one hand, and Persia as a kind and generous one, on the
other, is the product of particular social memory processes in Yehud. They are not a reflection of essentially divergent attitudes towards rebellions; see the way in which Darius I put
down the rebellions against him at the beginning of his reign (DB 3233).
66
See above all Nahum 2; for other examples, see Isa 14:2124; 30:2733; Zeph 2:1315
(and note the placement and relative extent of the reference to Assyria in Zeph 2:415).
67
E.g., Isa 13; 14:324; Jer 50; 51:2428.
68
See Ehud Ben Zvi, Exploring the Memory of Moses The Prophet.
69
Tyre was imagined and remembered in prophetic literature as the center of what we
may call today a commercial empire and Tyre, the city, and its king as at the center of a
168
the full scope of the intellectual discourse of late Persian Yehud are the substantial
memories encoded in and evoked by the prophetic book collection that balance
the thrust of the memories of empires mentioned before. To illustrate, and focusing again on the two main universal empires of the past, there are texts that asked
the community to construe and remember the Babylonian empire (and characters
that represented and symbolized it) in extremely positive light, not when Babylon
is fallen or when it is about to be replaced as the center of the world by Jerusalem,
but at the height of its power, just when it destroyed Jerusalem, the Temple, and
sent Israel into exile.
Babylonia at its zenith, the very universal empire that destroyed Jerusalem,
was also generally imagined containing at its heart the very territory most suitable
for Israels exile.70 Although a somewhat elevated figure of Nebuchadnezzar,71 particularly as YHWHs servant, is to be expected (see Jer 25:9; 27:6cf. Isa 10:5and in
Jer 25:114, note also vv. 1112), and particularly since he successfully destroyed
Jerusalem, which in the discourse of Yehud could have only been understood as
having been selected by YHWH to do so, the same cannot be said of Nebuzaradan,
who is explicitly characterized as a pious foreign leader, who not only acknowledges YHWHs power and justice, but also thinks and talks like a pious Israelite/
Judahite/Yehudite. In fact, Jer 40:23 asks the community to remember a
Nebuzaradan, the very same person who burned the temple and Jerusalem and
deported Israel and the temple vessels (2 Kgs 25:811; Jer 39:9; 52:1227), as a person who thought and talked as a godly disciple of the prophet, as Jeremiah would
have thought and talked.72
Turning to Assyria, although there is Nahum, there is also Jonah. Significantly,
the king of Nineveh is not to be imagined as the king of a falling polity, but of
one at the height of its power (see Jonah 3:23). Clearly, the book of Jonah, among
world, like imperial kings and cities. Of course from the perspective of the remembering
community this is a kind of anti-world and Tyre is a kind of anti-Jerusalem. See, for instance, Ezekiel 2728 and also cf. Ezek 26:1618 and note 64 above.
Given Arams importance in the historical process that led to the fall of Samaria, the
tendency to bracket it, particularly in Hosea, is worth noting. On this matter, see Ehud Ben
Zvi, The Study of Forgetting and the Forgotten in Ancient Israelite Discourse/s: Observations and Test Cases, in Cultural Memory in Biblical Exegesis (ed. P. Carstens, T. Hasselbach, and
N. P. Lemche; Perspectives on Hebrew Scriptures and its Contexts 17; Piscataway: Gorgias
Press, 2012), 15574.
70
See, for instance, Jer 29; Ezek 33:2129; and contrast with how Egypt, which did not
destroy Jerusalem, was imagined in this regard: see Jer 40:741:18; 42:122; 43:113; 44:130.
71
See John Hill, Your Exile Will Be Long: The Book of Jeremiah and the Unended Exile, in Reading the Book of Jeremiah: A Search for Coherence (ed. M. Kessler; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2004), 14961 (15256); idem, Friend or Foe? The Figure of Babylon in the Book of Jeremiah MT (BibIntSup 40; Leiden: Brill, 1999), 10310, 13039, 19899, 2035.
72
The author wants to persuade us that Nebuzaradan was a pupil of Jeremiah (40:2
3), writes Klaas A. D. Smelik in The Function of Jeremiah 50 and 51 in the Book of Jeremiah, in Reading the Book of Jeremiah: A Search for Coherence (ed. M. Kessler; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2004), 8798 (97). Compare also Jer 40:2 with Jer 32:23.
EHUD BEN ZVI
169
many other things, serves to balance, to the best of its potential within the community, the memories associated with Nineveh.
These are not some odd cases one can safely ignore in reconstructions of the
intellectual discourse of the period, nor are the perspectives that they raise restricted to texts in the prophetic book collection.73 These memories served to balance the mindshare of extremely negative constructions of past, universal empires. While positive constructions of their present universal empire may have
contributed to the images of past empires,74 these texts shaped an image of the
past empires and their populations75 as containing the seed of their transformation
into loyal members of the future empire of YHWH/Israel, as (discursively necessary)
pre-figurations of that future. At the same time, Babylon and Assyria are past empires and as such they have to pass. Even Jonah, as read and reread in Yehud, has
two endings.76
IV. FINAL OBSERVATION

These observations do not and cannot address within the boundaries of a single essay the gamut of issues associated with empire and imperial conditions,
the prophetic collection of books, and matters of social memory and mindscape in
late Persian/early Hellenistic Yehud. It is hoped, however, that they provide a
fruitful and somewhat distinctive springboard for multiple, future conversations
on these matters.
73
Chronicles (and books in the deuteronomistic historical collection, and the book of
Genesis) shaped memories of several virtuous, powerful foreign kings. See Ehud Ben Zvi,
History, Literature and Theology in the Book of Chronicles, 27088; previously published as When
a Foreign Monarch Speaks, in The Chronicler as Author: Studies in Text and Texture (ed. M. P.
Graham and S. L. McKenzie; JSOTSup 263; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), 20928.
74
Note, for instance, the case of the positive characterization of the Other in the land,
before Israel could take possession of it, that is, during the patriarchal period. One may also
compare these positive others with those populating constructions of the Persian empire in
Yehud. On these matters, see Ehud Ben Zvi, The Memory of Abraham in the Late Persian/
Early Hellenistic Yehud/Judah, in Remembering Biblical Figures in the Late Persian and Early
Hellenistic Periods: Social Memory and Imagination (ed. D. V. Edelman and E. Ben Zvi; Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2013), 337 (1821). A Persian-period connoted flavor might be at
work also in the portrayal of the sailors in Jonahs ship. Note the multiplicity of
gods/cultural backgrounds associated with them, which is balanced by their shared behavior, which provides a pre-figuration of the behavior of the Others at the time of the future
empire of YHWH/Israel.
75
In Jonah, see the partial Israelitization of not only the king of Nineveh, but also the
entire population of the city and earlier within the books story that of the sailors in the
ship.
76
As I maintained in Ehud Ben Zvi, Signs of Jonah: Reading and Rereading in Ancient Yehud
(JSOTSup 367; London: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003). I discussed there also the motif of
partial Israelitization of the Other in Jonah at some length.
Power, Politics, and Prophecy in the Dead Sea Scrolls and

Second Temple Judaism
Alex P. Jassen1
The constellation of sectarian communities associated with the Dead Sea

Scrolls was overmatched in power and prestige by other contemporary Jewish
groups.2 The sectarian Dead Sea Scrolls condemn the priests in Jerusalem as impure stewards of a defiled temple, denounce the Hasmoneans as illegitimate rulers,
1
Earlier versions of this article were presented at the University of Chicago (February
2013) and the Yeshiva University Symposium on the Dead Sea Scrolls (March 2013). I thank
all those in attendance for their helpful feedback. I am especially grateful to Dr. Shalom
Holtz, who served as a respondent for the presentation at Yeshiva University and offered
many helpful suggestions.
2
My use of the term constellation of sectarian communities reflects the assumption
that the Dead Sea Scrolls contain a collection of writings that represent a shared ideology
and set of practices that are distinctive in the broader landscape of Second Temple period
Jewish groups. At the same time, these writings do not represent a singular community and
thus attempts to outline the sectarian beliefs and practices must account for diversity within
the sectarian documents. Two primary models have been proposed: (1) The diversity reflects
the historical progression of related sectarian communities; (2) The sectarian documents
reflect the literary output of a broad network of communities spread throughout the land of
Israel. On these issues, see especially, Alison Schofield, From Qumran to the Yaad: A New Paradigm of Textual Development for The Community Rule (STDJ 77; Leiden: Brill, 2009); John J. Collins, Beyond the Qumran Community: The Sectarian Movement of the Dead Sea Scrolls (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010). As with most aspects of sectarian ideology, approaches to violence and
power are not uniform. For an attempt to situate this diversity within the first model (historical progression), see Alex P. Jassen, Violence and the Dead Sea Scrolls: Sectarian Formation and Eschatological Imagination, in Violence, Scripture, and Textual Practice in Early
Judaism and Christianity (ed. R. S. Boustan, A. P. Jassen, and C. J. Roetzel; Leiden: Brill, 2010),
1345.
171
172
and craft a portrait of the Pharisees as misguided interpreters of the law. The sectarians viewed themselves as Gods chosen people and believed that only their
priestly leaders could restore the temple to its pristine state; only their teachers
properly understood the divine law. Yet, the sectarians recognized the everpresent reality that they were far from these positions of power in Jewish society.
In the face of this reality, the sectarians constructed an identity of themselves and
other Jews that explained their disempowered status and delegitimized the prestige of these other groups. At the same time, the sectarian writings imagine an
imminent end of days in which the present imbalance of power would be remedied
through the annihilation of all the enemies of the sectarians.
The present study examines the role that views of prophecy and competing
claims to contemporary prophecy played in this identity formation. As in many
late biblical and Second Temple texts, several texts in the Dead Sea Scrolls reflect a
suspicious attitude toward prophets. The condemnation of false prophets is commonly found in the context of competing claims to authority with sectarian enemies, most notably the Hasmoneans and Pharisees. This study explores the ways
the charge of false prophecy serves as a means to delegitimize the social and political authority of the targets of these accusations. In the context of the Dead Sea
Scrolls, the disempowered sectarians deploy the accusation of false prophecy as a
tool for their imagined resistance against the empowered Pharisees and Hasmoneans.3
POWER AND POLITICS IN THE DEAD SEA SCROLLS

Portraits of Hasmonean Power in the Dead Sea Scrolls
Throughout the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Hasmoneans are portrayed as powerful
enemies determined to bring destruction to the sectarians. Most accounts of the
Dead Sea Scrolls sectarian communities highlight the strong antagonism between
the sectarians and the Hasmonean priests/kings.4 For example, while scholars de3
The present study limits itself to intra-Jewish conflict. The power dynamic described
here for the sectarians and their Jewish opponents is equally applicable to the relationship
with Rome. Yet, the attempt to reverse this power dynamic is considerably different for
intra-Jewish opponents versus foreign opponents such as Rome. In particular, views of
prophecy and competing claims to present-time prophecy play no role in the sectarians
attempts to reverse Roman power. On portraits of Roman power and the sectarian response,
see the discussion in Alex P. Jassen, War and Violence, in T & T Clark Companion to the Dead
Sea Scrolls (ed. G. J. Brooke and C. Hempel; London: T & T Clark Bloomsbury, forthcoming).
4
See, e.g., Lawrence H. Schiffman, Community Without Temple: The Qumran Communitys Withdrawal from the Jerusalem Temple, in Qumran and Jerusalem: Studies in the Dead
Sea Scrolls and the History of Judaism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 8197; Edward Dbrowa,
The Hasmoneans in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls, in The Dead Sea Scrolls in Context: Integrating the Dead Sea Scrolls in the Study of Ancient Texts, Languages, and Cultures (ed. A. Lange, E. Tov,
and M. Weigold; VTSup 140; Leiden: Brill, 2011), 1:50110.
ALEX P. JASSEN
173
bate the precise identity of the Wicked Priest, it is almost certainly one of the
Hasmonean high priests.5 The sectarian scrolls describe a range of brutality perpetrated by the Hasmoneans, both against other Jews and toward the sectarians. Similar to the descriptions of the Romans in Pesher Habakkuk (1QpHab), several texts
outline the violent tendencies of the Hasmoneans. Pesher Nahum (4Q169), for example, condemns the Lion of Wratha sobriquet for Alexander Jannaeus (10375
BCE)for killing his Jewish opponents.6 Similarly, 4QTestimonia (4Q175) identifies
Jericho as rebuilt by the Man of Belialgenerally understood as John Hyrcanus
(134104 BCE)to be a flashpoint for violence and the spilling of innocent blood.7
The most prominent portrait of Hasmonean tyranny in the scrolls, however, is
directed at the sectarians and their leaders. Pesher Psalms describes the oppression
of Gods holy people at the hands of the wicked princes, almost certainly a
reference to the Hasmonean dynasty (4Q171 110 iii 78). Pesher Habakkuk personalizes the dominance of the Hasmoneans by outlining the struggle between the
Teacher of Righteousness and the Wicked Priest. 1QpHab 9:812 interprets the
violence and bloodshed in Hab 2:8 as referring to crimes of the Wicked Priest
against the Teacher and his community. 1QpHab 11:48 describes the pursuit of
the Teacher at his place of exile by the Wicked Priest in order to swallow him up
with his poisonous vexation. Pesher Psalms goes so far as to accuse the Wicked
Priest of attempting to murder the Teacher of Righteousness (4Q171 110 iv 810).
The Pesharim and the Thanksgiving Hymns (e.g., 1QHa 10:2029; 12:911; 13:918)
provide further examples of oppression suffered by the Teacher and his followers.
Although the perpetrators of this oppression are never fully identified, it is likely
that many of these further examples are similarly intended as part of the broader
portrait of Hasmonean cruelty toward the sectarians.8
Scholars have long mined these passages for clues regarding the origins of the
sectarians and the identities of the Teacher of Righteousness and the Wicked
Priest. This approach, however, assumes that the descriptions of the Hasmonean
persecution of the sectarians should in fact be constructed in purely historical
terms. It is possible that some of the examples of outsider oppression found in the
scrolls did in fact transpire. It is more likely, however, that these portraits of persecution are part of a larger narrative of victimhood crafted within the various
5
See James C. VanderKam, The Wicked Priest Revisited, in The Other in Second Temple Judaism: Essays in Honor of John J. Collins (ed. D. C. Harlow et al.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
2011), 35067.
6
On this passage and the identification of the Lion of Wrath as Alexander Janneaus,
see Josephus, B.J. 1.9298; Ant. 13.37683, and the discussion in David Flusser, Pharisees,
Sadduccees, and Essenes in Pesher Nahum, in Judaism of the Second Temple Period: Volume 1:
Qumran and Apocalypticism (trans. Azzan Yadin; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans; Jerusalem: Magnes
and Jerusalem Perspective, 2007), 21457 (220); Lawrence H. Schiffman, Pharisees and Sadducees in Pesher Nahum, in Qumran and Jerusalem, 33752 (34043) (see note 4).
7
See Hanan Eshel, The Succession of High Priests: John Hyrcanus and His Sons in the
Pesher to Joshua 6:26, in The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Hasmonean State (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 6390, and fuller discussion below.
8
See my discussion of these additional texts in Jassen, War and Violence.
174
sectarian communities. The rejection of the sectarians by the rest of Jewish society
was likely a result of indifference rather than persecution. Persecution, however, is
a much more powerful internal rhetorical tool than indifference.9 The Hasmoneans
are constantly painted as the aggressors in contrast to the victimized sectarians
the true followers of God. In creating this narrative of victimhood, the sectarians
presume that the Hasmonean authorities care deeply about this group of detractors, some of whom have withdrawn to the desert. In so doing, the sectarians increase their own prestige while simultaneously making very clear that they are no
match for the dominant Hasmonean forces.
Portraits of Pharisaic Power in the Dead Sea Scrolls

The Pharisees represent a second intra-Jewish opponent of the community.
Treatments of the Pharisees must distinguish between the Pharisees of history
about whom precious little can be verifiedand the portrait of the Pharisees found
in the writings of their detractors.10 Although the Dead Sea Scrolls do seem to contain some information about the historical Pharisees, the description of the Pharisees in the sectarian writing is undoubtedly a tendentious portrait written by a
group deeply opposed to the Pharisees.11 The sectarian Dead Sea Scrolls portray
the Pharisees as expositors of Jewish lawgenerally with a tendency toward leniencywho seemingly command a wide group of followers. The historical elements
in this portrait, however, are obscured by the caricature of the Pharisees in these
texts as ill-informed interpreters of the law who lead their followers astray. The
sectarians view themselves as the only true expositors of Jewish law and therefore
the only ones who can properly provide instruction in Jewish society. The portrait
of the dual empowerment of the Pharisees and the marginalization of the sectarians therefore further reinforces the sectarians narrative of victimhood.
The Pharisees are repeatedly condemned for their misguided leadership and
erroneous interpretations of the law. Though the Pharisees themselves are never
presented as oppressive or hostile, their faulty leadership at times leads to violence and bloodshed perpetrated by others against fellow Jews. This portrait is
especially prominent in the presentation of the Pharisees in column two of Pesher
Nahum.12
9
See Carol A. Newsom, The Self as Symbolic Space: Constructing Identity and Community at
Qumran (STDJ 52; Leiden: Brill, 2004), 318.
10
On this issue, see David Goodblatt, The Place of Pharisees in First Century Judaism:
The State of the Debate, JSJ 20 (1989): 1230; Martin Goodman, Josephus and Variety in
First Century Judaism, in Judaism in the Roman World: Collected Essays (AJEC 66; Leiden: Brill,
2006), 3346.
11
See bibliography below cited in nn. 14, 17 for a range of approaches to the contribution of the Dead Sea Scrolls to understanding the Pharisees.
12
On the Pharisees in this text, see Flusser, Pharisees, Sadduccees, and Essenes, 214
57; Schiffman, Pharisees and Sadducees, 33752.
ALEX P. JASSEN
175
Pesher Nahum interprets the city of crime in Nah 3:1a as referring to city of
Ephraim, the Seekers after Smooth Things, at the end of days, that the[y will] conduct themselves in deception and falsehoo[d] (4Q169 34 ii 2).13 Ephraim and
Seekers after Smooth Things are two code words for Pharisees in Pesher Nahum.14
This invective is expanded in the interpretation of the next lemma from Nah 3:1b
3, in which the Pharisees are censured for their collusion with the foreign empire
and the resultant bloodshed:
Its interpretation concerns the domain ( )of the Seekers after Smooth
Things that there shall not cease from the midst of whose congregation the sword
of the nations, captivity, and plunder, fever, and exile from fear of the enemy and
a multitude of guilty corpses will fall in their days, and there shall be no end to the
sum of their slain, and even over their fleshly bodies they shall stumble by their
guilty counsel. (4Q169 34 ii 36)
This passage is no doubt related to Pesher Nahums earlier report that the Seekers
after Smooth Things collaborated with the Seleucid king Demetrius to overthrow
the Lion of Wrath (Alexander Jannaeus) (4Q169 34 i 2). In particular, Pesher Nahum interprets the sword from the scriptural lemma to refer to the sword of
nations, thereby heightening the censure of the Pharisees for their collusion with
the foreign empire.
Pesher Nahum continues its attack on Pharisaic authority in its interpretation
of Nah 3:4:
[Its] interpretation [con]cerns those who lead Ephraim astray, in whose teaching
is their falsehood, and whose lying tongue and dishonest lip(s) lead many astray,
[their] kings, officers, priests, and people, with the proselyte who converts. They
shall destroy cities and clans with their plot; nob[l]es and rul[ers] shall fall because
of the [insol]ence of their speech. (4Q169 34 ii 810)
As scholars have noted, this passage seems to create a distinction between the
Pharisaic leaders of Ephraim and their followers.15 This distinction allows Pesher
Nahum to reinforce further its denouncement of the Pharisees for their misguided
leadership and false interpretation of the law. As in earlier passages, disastrous
consequences ensue.
13
Translations follow Shani L. Berrin, The Pesher Nahum Scroll from Qumran: An Exegetical
Study of 4Q169 (STDJ 53; Leiden: Brill, 2004).
14
See Flusser, Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes, 21824; Schiffman, Pharisees and
Sadducees, 33948; Berrin, Pesher Nahum, 9299, 10918. See also James C. VanderKam,
Those Who Look for Smooth Things, Pharisees, and Oral Law, in Emanuel: Studies in the
Hebrew Bible, Septuagint and Dead Sea Scrolls in Honor of Emanuel Tov (ed. S. M. Paul et al.; VTSup
94; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 46577; idem, The Pharisees and the Dead Sea Scrolls, in In Quest of
the Historical Pharisees (ed. J. Neusner and B. D. Chilton; Waco: Baylor University Press, 2007),
22236 (22528).
15
See Schiffman, Pharisees and Sadducees, 34647; Berrin, Pesher Nahum, 10918.
176
Scholars debate the precise historical framework presumed by Pesher Nahum.

Much of this debate is framed by the reference to the domain ( )of the
Pharisees in 4Q169 34 ii 4. Most scholars understand this term to refer to some
degree of Pharisaic political authority. The historical setting of this passage is
therefore located during points in time when Josephus describes the Pharisees as
possessing such power: either during the reign of Salome Alexandra (7667 BCE) or
during the period of the conflict between her sons Hyrcanus II and Aristobulus II
(6763 BCE).16 While this debate may be important for understanding the contribution of Pesher Nahum to the reconstruction of the history of the Pharisees in
Hasmonean times, it misses the rhetorical point of Pesher Nahums portrait of the
Pharisees.
The sectarian community envisions the Pharisees as one of its primary competitors with regard to interpretation of the law and positions of leadership in
Jewish society. This rivalry is especially present in the Damascus Document and
stands behind the legal disagreements in Miqat Maase Ha-Torah.17 The community
always asserts the correctness of its position and the misguided nature of Pharisaic
teachings. At the same time, these condemnations of Pharisaic teachings acknowledge the realities of Pharisaic political and religious power. The reference to the
domain ( )of the Pharisees is far too general to refer to any specific point
in time during the Hasmonean period. More likely, it has in view all points in time
when the the sectarians imagined the Pharisees wielding influence.18 In so doing,
Pesher Nahum reinforces the rhetorical point that there is little distinction between
Pharisaic power during the period of Salome Alexandra or her sons. To the
spurned community, the most troubling issue is the mere fact that the Pharisees
possess any degree of control over local Judean politics and religious practice.
Even as it acknowledges political realities, Pesher Nahum turns on its head the
primary claim of the Pharisees for this position of authority. Their claim to be expert interpreters of the law is exposed as a fraud. For Pesher Nahum, the Pharisees
teachings are based on falsehood and as such their religious and political counsel
only leads to disastrous results. The portrait of the Pharisees in Pesher Nahum only
further contributes to the communitys sense of disempowerment. The utter disdain for Pharisaic political and religious leadership and its consequences reinforce
16
For the earlier period, see J. D. Amoussine, phram et Manass dans le Pshr de
Nahum, RevQ 4 (1963): 38996 (39293); Flusser, Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes, 232
33. For the later period, see A. Dupont-Sommer, Le commentaire de Nahum dcouvert prs
de la mer Morte (4Qp Nah): Traduction et Notes, Semitica 13 (1963): 5588 (7374). For fuller
discussion, see Berrin, Pesher Nahum, 21730.
17
On debates with the Pharisees in the Damascus Document, see especially Lawrence H.
Schiffman, The Pharisees and Their Legal Traditions According to the Dead Sea Scrolls, in
Qumran and Jerusalem: Studies in the Dead Sea Scrolls and the History of Judaism (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2010), 32136 (32731); VanderKam, Pharisees, 22627. On Miqat Maase HaTorah, see Schiffman, The New Halakhic Letter and the Origins of the Dead Sea Sect, in
Qumran and Jerusalem: Studies in the Dead Sea Scrolls and the History of Judaism (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2010), 11222.
18
See Berrin, Pesher Nahum, 219.
ALEX P. JASSEN
177
the sectarian belief that the community rightfully should hold these levers of power in Judean society.
Empowering a Disempowered Community

The world that the Dead Sea Scrolls sectarians inhabited generated a profound
disconnect for the sectarians as they forged their self-identity. On the one hand,
the sectarians viewed themselves as the elect of God and their priestly leaders as
the only ones knowledgeable of the true application of the divine law.19 In this
sense, the sectarians regarded the reigning local power structure as a temporary
aberration. Yet, they simultaneously recognized that they were a disempowered
minority relative to the overpowering might of the Hasmoneans. It made no difference whether the portrait of Hasmonean power was real or imagined. Indeed,
the narrative of victimhood crafted by the sectarians only served to reinforce their
disempowered position. In both real and imagined terms, the sectarians possessed
little ability to overturn the present power structure and assert their rightful place
of leadership and authority.
The sectarian Dead Sea Scrolls offer insight into how the sectarians addressed
these competing realities in a way that both confirmed their present overmatched
position and affirmed their special status. Sectarian texts imagine an imminent
end of days that would usher in a period in which all of its enemiesboth foreigners and other Jewswould be vanquished in an end-time battle.20 This portrait of a
highly violent eschatological age is balanced by a remarkably nonviolent present
time. No sectarian writings envision any present-time violent engagement with its
perceived enemies. This approach stands in marked contrast to contemporary
Jewish groups who responded very differently to their perceived oppressors. Both
the Hasmoneans and the Zealots, for example, appealed to the zeal of Phinehas
as part of their advocacy of immediate armed resistance against their enemies.21
While opposition to more powerful Jews and the Romans is pervasive
throughout the sectarian writings, all hostile engagement is deferred until the
end-time (see 1QS 9:2123; 10:1719; 1QHa 14:2021). Indeed, the very language
19
On the sectarians self-identity as the elect of God, see Alex P. Jassen, Survival at the
End of Days: Aspects of Soteriology in the Dead Sea Scrolls Pesharim, in This World and the
World to Come: Soteriology in Early Judaism (ed. D. M. Gurtner; LSTS 74; London: T & T Clark,
2011), 193210.
20
This end-time military engagement is outlined in a group of interrelated war texts
(1QM, 4Q471, 4Q491496, 4Q285, 11Q14). For discussion of these texts, see especially Jean
Duhaime, The War Texts: 1QM and Related Manuscripts (London: T & T Clark, 2004). On the eschatological war more specifically, see John J. Collins, Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls
(London: Routledge, 1997), 91109.
21
See 1 Macc 2:2427; Josephus B.J. 4.155. See especially Martin Hengel, The Zealots: Investigations into the Jewish Freedom Movement in the Period from Herod I until 70 A.D. (Edinburgh: T &
T Clark, 1989), 14677. On the role of the zeal of Phinehas in sectarian ideology, see further
Jassen, War and Violence.
178
used in the Rule of the Community to defer violenceI will return to no man the
recompense of evil (1QS 10:17)is employed in the War Scroll to describe the point
in time when Gods fury is unleashed on the wicked:
For into the hand of the oppressed you will deliver the [ene]mies of all the lands;
into the hands of those who are prostrate in the dust, in order to bring down all
mighty men of the peoples, to return the recompense of the wicked. (1QM 11:13
14; cf. 6:56; CD 7:910; 19:67)
The distinction between the lack of present-time hostile engagement and the expected eruption of eschatological violence is critical to framing the nature of the
sectarians relationship with their perceived enemies. As a powerless group, the
sectarians were undoubtedly aware that they were no match for the Roman armies
or even the more powerful Jews in Jerusalem. The sectarians articulated their opposition to the present world order in such a way that minimized the potential for
present-time violent engagement, in which they recognized that they were overmatched. The violent eschatological vision serves in the present primarily as a
rhetorical tool to empower the disempowered sectarian community. The sectarians crafted a fantasy of retributive violence in which the balance of power is
reversed and their enemies are therefore brought to justice.22
In framing the sectarians resistance to its enemies as rhetorical, I am positioning the Dead Sea Scrolls alongside other early Jewish and Christian literature
that scholars have identified as advocating similar forms of imagined resistance. In
recent years, scholarship on Jewish and Christian responses to the overwhelming
power of empires has drawn heavily upon social-scientific analysis of how weaker
members of a society respond when they are severely overmatched in physical
strength.23 Many texts reflect Jewish and Christian fantasies of future retributive
22
I explore in greater detail this aspect of the communitys violent worldview in Jassen,
Violence and the Dead Sea Scrolls and War and Violence. See similarly the article in this
volume by Ehud Ben Zvi, p. 156.
23
The most influential work in this regard is James C. Scott, Domination and the Arts of Resistance: Hidden Transcripts (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990). See also idem, Weapons
of the Weak: Everyday Forms of Peasant Resistance (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1985).
Scotts work represents the theoretical underpinning of a wide body of scholarship on early
Judaism and Christianity. Much of this has focused on the New Testament. See, e.g., Richard
A. Horsley, Jesus and Empire: The Kingdom of God and the New World Disorder (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003), and the many articles collected in three volumes edited by Horsley: Paul and
Empire: Religion and Power in Roman and Imperial Society (Harrisburg: Trinity Press International, 1997); Hidden Transcripts and the Arts of Resistance: Applying the Work of James C. Scott to Jesus
and Paul (SemeiaSt 48; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2004); In the Shadow of Empire:
Reclaiming the Bible as a History of Faithful Resistance (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2008)
(with three contributions on the Hebrew Bible). On rabbinic literature, see Joshua Levinson,
The Athlete of Piety: Fatal Fictions in Rabbinic Literature, Tarbiz 68 (1999): 6186 [Hebrew];
idem, Tragedies Naturally Performed: Fatal Charades, Parodia Sacra, and the Death of Titus, in Jewish Culture and Society Under the Christian Roman Empire (ed. R. Kalmin and S.
Schwartz; Leuven: Peeters, 2003), 34982; Daniel Boyarin, Dying for God: Martyrdom and the
ALEX P. JASSEN
179
justice that will be meted out against the present-time oppressorsoften by means
of the same forms of domination previously employed by the oppressors. As in
these texts, the internal discourse of imagined resistance in the Dead Sea Scrolls
reverses the power of the Hasmoneans and Pharisees and the powerlessness of the
sectarian community.
POWER AND (FALSE) PROPHECY IN SECOND TEMPLE JUDAISM

In spite of the sectarians self-identity as the elect of God, sectarian writings
preserve no explicit claims of prophetic identity for any of its leaders. The Teacher
of Righteousness is commonly identified as having special access to God. Yet, he is
never identified as a prophet. Indeed, the only contemporary individuals identified
as prophets are the sectarian opponents.24 This phenomenon can be explained in
two ways. First, the sectarians recognized a shift in the way that humans accessed
the divine word and accordingly crafted a new language that recognized the modified modes of prophetic and revelatory activity. At the same time, the Teacher of
Righteousness and his followers had no doubt that they possessed unique access to
God and that this relationship placed them in continuity with the classical prophets from ancient Israel.25
The second explanation pertains to the lingering suspicions regarding prophetic claims in the Second Temple period. Several late biblical and Second Temple
Making of Christianity and Judaism (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1999), esp. 4266; Beth
A. Berkowitz, Execution and Invention: Death Penalty Discourse in Early Rabbinic Judaism and Christian Cultures (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), esp. 15379; Raanan S. Boustan,
Immolating Emperors: Spectacles of Imperial Suffering and the Making of a Jewish Minority
Culture in Late Antiquity, in Violence, Scripture, and Textual Practice, 20434. For Second Temple Judaism, see Kimberly B. Stratton, Reinscribing Roman Violence in Fantasies of the End
Times, in Violence, Scripture, and Textual Practice, 4576; Richard A. Horsley, Revolt of the
Scribes: Resistance and Apocalyptic Origins (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2010); Anathea E. PortierYoung, Apocalypse against Empire: Theologies of Resistance in Early Judaism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011).
24
On prophecy in the Dead Sea Scrolls, see James E. Bowley, Prophets and Prophecy at
Qumran, in The Dead Sea Scrolls after Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment (ed. J. C. VanderKam and P. W. Flint; Leiden: Brill, 19981999), 2:34478; George J. Brooke, Prophecy and
Prophets in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Looking Backwards and Forwards, in Prophets, Prophecy and
Prophetic Texts in Second Temple Judaism (ed. M. H. Floyd and R. D. Haak; LHBOTS 427; New
York/London: T & T Clark, 2006), 15165; Alex P. Jassen, Mediating the Divine: Prophecy and
Revelation in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Second Temple Judaism (STDJ 68; Leiden: Brill, 2007); Martti
Nissinen, Transmitting Divine Mysteries: The Prophetic Role of Wisdom Teachers in the
Dead Sea Scrolls, in Scripture in Transition: Essays on the Septuagint, Hebrew Bible, and Dead Sea
Scrolls in Honour of Raija Sollamo (ed. A. Voitila and J. Jokiranta; JSJSup 126; Leiden: Brill, 2008),
51333; Kristin de Troyer, Armin Lange, and Lucas L. Schulte, eds., Prophecy after the Prophets?
The Contribution of the Dead Sea Scrolls to the Understanding of Biblical and Extra-Biblical Prophecy
(CBET 52; Leuven: Peeters, 2009).
25
See Jassen, Mediating the Divine, 38182 (cf. idem, Prophets and Prophecy in the Qumran Community, AJSR 32 (2008): 299334 [33334]). See also Bowley, Prophets, 2:37273.
180
period texts paint a portrait of a society deeply suspicious of prophetic claims.26

The sectarian communitys concern for contemporary false prophets can be detected in three texts among the Dead Sea Scrolls. The Temple Scroll (11QTa 54:818)
and the Moses Apocryphon (4Q375) both contain a set of laws based on Deuteronomic principles for identifying and prosecuting a false prophet. Similarly 4QList of
False Prophets (4Q339) contains a register of false prophets in Israels history.27 On
the one hand, the concern in these texts for discerning between true and false
prophecy suggests that prophetic activity was still very much alive in the Second
Temple period.28 These texts likewise indicate that the sectarians were sensitive to
the widespread suspicions regarding contemporary prophetic claims. In this regard, the sectarians were likely hesitant to brand their own revelatory claims with
this still suspicious terminology.29 This same situation explains why the sectarians
simultaneously ascribe prophetic claims to their opponents.
The emerging suspicions in the Second Temple period regarding prophecy are
best illustrated by Zech 13:26:30
(2) In that day, toodeclares the Lord of HostsI will erase the very names of the
idols from the land; they shall not be uttered any more. And I will also make the
prophets and the unclean spirit vanish from the land. (3) If anyone prophesies
thereafter, his own father and mother, who brought him into the world, will say to
him, You shall die, for you have lied in the name of the Lord; and his own father
and mother, who brought him into the world, will put him to death when he
prophesies. (4) In that day, every prophet will be ashamed of the visions [he
had] when he prophesied. In order to deceive, he will not wear a hairy mantle,
(5) and he will declare, I am not a prophet; I am a tiller of the soil; you see, I was
plied with the red stuff from my youth on. (6) And if he is asked, What are those
sores on your back? he will reply, From being beaten in the homes of my
friends.
26
On this issue, see more fully David L. Petersen, Late Israelite Prophecy: Studies in DeuteroProphetic Literature and in Chronicles (Missoula: Scholars Press, 1977), 2738 (esp. 3738); Gnter Stemberger, Propheten und Prophetie in der Tradition des nachbiblischen Judentums,
in Prophetie und Charisma (ed. W. H. Schmidt and E. Dassmann; Jahrbuch fr Biblische Theologie 14; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener, 1999), 14574 (14749); Armin Lange, Reading the
Decline of Prophecy, in Reading the Present in the Qumran Library: The Perception of the Contemporary by Means of Scriptural Interpretations (ed. K. de Troyer and A. Lange; SBLSymS 30; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2005), 18191 (18184); Martti Nissinen, The Dubious Image
of Prophecy, in Prophets, Prophecy and Prophetic Texts in Second Temple Judaism (ed. M. H. Floyd
and R. D. Haak; LHBOTS 427; New York / London: T & T Clark, 2006), 2641.
27
See my treatment of these passages in Jassen, Mediating the Divine, 299306. 4QList of
False Prophets is discussed more fully below.
28
As argued in Brooke, Prophecy, 15860; Jassen, Mediating the Divine, 299306.
29
See Jassen, Prophets and Prophecy, 334 n. 117.
30
On this passage, see especially (with earlier literature cited therein): Carol L. Meyers
and Eric M. Meyers, Zechariah 914 (AB 25C; New York: Doubleday, 1993), 399404; Nissinen,
Dubious Image, 3538; L. Stephen Cook, On the Question of the Cessation of Prophecy in Ancient Judaism (TSAJ 145; Tbingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 5863.
ALEX P. JASSEN
181
Zechariah 13:2 seems to target prophets who prophesy in the name of other gods,
though it may also have in mind Yahwistic prophets.31 The remainder of the invective, however, focuses exclusively on Yahwistic prophets. Verse three condemns
the prophet who speaks falsely in the name of Yahweh, thereby invoking the Deuteronomic litmus test for true prophecy (Deut 18:1822).32 Moreover, this passage
contains several allusions to true prophets from Israels past. The hairy mantle, for example, is likely an allusion to the prophetic mission of Elijah.33 Zechariah 13:26 contrasts the true prophets of old with the illegitimate prophets of the
present. In so doing, however, this passage simultaneously casts aspersions on all
individuals claiming to be prophets.
As in other biblical presentations of illegitimate prophets, Zech 13:26 still refers to the prophets with the unqualified title prophet ( )even as it strongly
condemns their message as illegitimate. Later Second Temple period texts, however, reframe these prophets as unequivocally false. Thus, for example, the Septuagint translates as in all cases where the individuals are
deemed to be false prophets, including Zech 13:2.34 The accusation of false prophecy becomes a potent tool to delegitimize the very claim of these individuals to
speak on behalf of God.35
This strategy is especially on display in Josephuss account of two charismatic
prophets from the first century CE: the Egyptian (B.J. 2.25963; Ant. 20.16971; cf.
Acts 21:38) and Theudas (Ant. 20:9798; cf. Acts 5:3638).36 Josephus frames these
two individuals as part of the same seditious millenarian tendencies that led to the
disastrous revolt against Rome.37 Josephuss condemnation of both as dangerous
charlatans is achieved primarily through casting aspersions on their prophetic
claims. For the Egyptian, Josephus denies any truth to his prophetic claims by introducing him simply as a false prophet (; B.J. 2.261). As in the case
of the Egyptian, Josephus traces the roots of the failed zealotry against Rome to a
first century CE false prophet (B.J. 6.285; cf. 2.258). In all these cases, Josephus
employs the designation false prophet alongside terms such as imposter ()
and deceiver () (e.g., B.J. 2.259; Ant. 20.167) to reject the very notion that
See Meyers and Meyers, Zechariah 914, 371.

Meyers and Meyers, Zechariah 914, 375.
33
Nissinen, Dubious Image, 36.
34
On this transition, see James L. Crenshaw, Prophetic Conflict: Its Effect upon Israelite Religion (BZAW 124; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1971), 14; Jannes Reiling, The Use of in the Septuagint, Philo, and Josephus, NovT 13 (1971): 14756.
35
See especially Reiling, The Use of , 148.
36
On these two and other so-called sign prophets in Josephus, see especially P. W.
Barnett, The Jewish Sign Prophets, in The Historical Jesus in Recent Research (ed. J. D. G. Dunn
and S. McKnight; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2005), 44462; Rebecca Gray, Prophetic Figures in
Late Second Temple Jewish Palestine: The Evidence from Josephus (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1993), 11244.
37
See Joseph Blenkinsopp, Prophecy and Priesthood in Josephus, JJS 25 (1974): 23962
(25960); David E. Aune, Prophecy in Early Christianity and the Ancient Mediterranean World
(Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1983), 12729.
31
32
182
these individuals have any access to God.38 A similar tactic seems to be employed in
Acts 13:6 as part of a broader attempt to discredit Bar-Jesus, who is identified as a
magician () and false prophet.39
Similar to the Septuagints use of the term, Josephuss accusation of pseudoprophecy can also represent a diversion from the scriptural description of an individual as simply a prophet.40 In Ant. 8.236, for example, Josephus introduces the
Old prophet from Bethel (1 Kgs 13:11) as a certain vile old man, a false prophet.
Josephuss strategy for delegitimizing this prophetic figure is similarly found in
4QList of False Prophets, where the same individual is listed among those false
prophets that arose against Israel (4Q339 3).41 Neither of these passages challenges
the oracular capabilities of the prophet from Bethel. Rather, he is rebranded as the
purveyor of misguided prophetic content.
The evidence of the Septuagint and Josephus indicates that by the end of the
Second Temple period the charge of false prophecy had a wide currency. To be
sure, Josephus and the Greek translators had significantly different motivations for
branding specific individuals as false prophets. Yet, in both cases, these accusations have the effect of undercutting the revelatory reputation of the targeted
individual and in so doing delegitimizing the content of the prophetic speech.
POWER AND (FALSE) PROPHECY IN THE DEAD SEA SCROLLS

As noted above, while the Dead Sea Scrolls sectarians shun explicit prophetic
self-identity, they simultaneously display a keen interest in the prophetic claims of
their opponents. This seemingly unexpected reversal must be positioned within
the same dynamic between true and false prophecy in Second Temple Judaism.
The sectarian concern with the prophetic claims of their opponents functions as a
rhetorical strategy for delegitimizing the prestige and authority of their more
powerful enemies in the eyes of the sectarian readers of these texts. In this section,
38
See Louis H. Feldman, Prophets and Prophecy in Josephus, in Prophets, Prophecy and
Prophetic Texts in Second Temple Judaism (ed. M. H. Floyd and R. D. Haak; LHBOTS 427; New
York/London: T & T Clark, 2006), 21039 (230); Gray, Prophetic Figures, 14344; Aune, Prophecy,
12829. See also Burkett, Sign Prophets, 448, 450, who proposes that the label imposter
locates these false prophets alongside similar imposters from ancient Egypts court magiciansin contrast to the true prophet of the Exodus, Moses.
39
See Hans-Josef Klauck, Magic and Paganism in Early Christianity: The World of the Acts of
the Apostles (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 2000), 4750; Rick Strelen, Who Was Bar Jesus (Acts
13,6-12)? Bib 85 (2004): 6581 (66). As observed by Strelen, classical writers commonly associate the magician () with the imposter (). A more general concern for false
prophets is found elsewhere in the New Testament. See especially Matt 7:15; 24:11; Mark
13:22; 2 Pet 2:1; 1 John 4:1, and treatment in Aune, Prophecy, 22229.
40
For the use of in Josephuss scriptural rewriting, see Ant. 8.236, 242,
318, 402, 406, 409; 9.133-37; 10.66, 104, 111. These examples are treated more fully in Reiling,
The Use of , 155; Gray, Prophetic Figures, 12930, 143.
41
See further below.
ALEX P. JASSEN
183
I analyze several passages that employ this technique with Pharisaic and Hasmonean enemies as their target.
Delegitimizing Pharisaic Prophetic Claims

FALSE PROPHECY AND THE PHARISEES IN THE THANKSGIVING HYMNS: The first passage I
examine comes from the Thanksgiving Hymns (1QHa 12:529).42 This hymn employs
highly charged rhetorical language to outline the bitter struggle between the sectarians and their opponents. This particular hymn frames this conflict in terms of
competing claims of access to the divine.43 Among the many recurring themes in
the hymn is the hymnists distinct claim to have unfettered access to the divine.
This claim is underscored by the chiastic inclusio that frames the entire hymn (as
indicated by the underlining below). At the beginning of the hymn, the hymnist
declares:
(5) vacat I give thanks to you, O Lord, for you have made my face shine by your
covenant, and [ ] (6) [ ] I seek you, and as an enduring dawning, as [perfe]ct light,
you have revealed yourself to me (8) Neither did they esteem me; even when
you displayed your might through me.
Toward the end of the hymn, he once again asserts that:

For (23) they esteem [me] not [thou]gh you display your might through me, and
reveal yourself to me in your strength as a perfect light.
Without utilizing any explicit prophetic terminology, the hymnist asserts his identity as one who has unique access to the divine.44
In the intervening passages, however, it is the hymnists enemies who are repeatedly identified with explicit prophetic terminology. The opponents are condemned for being led by mediators of deceit (( ) ll. 67) and mediators
of a lie (( ) ll. 910).45 The hymn continues by denouncing these same enemies as seers of deceit (( ) l. 10) and seers of error (( ) l. 20).46
42
This hymnic unit is generally understood as part of a larger hymn that continues in
12:2913:4 by describing the failings of humans. See Julie A. Hughes, Scriptural Allusions and
Exegesis in the Hodayot (STDJ 59; Leiden: Brill, 2006), 1034. See parallel content in 4Q430 1 25;
4Q432 8 1
43
For my earlier treatments of this hymnfocusing primarily on the sectarian revelatory claims thereinsee Jassen, Mediating the Divine, 28090; idem, Prophets and Prophecy,
31118.
44
See Jassen, Prophets and Prophecy, 31314, 31718.
45
On the prophetic sense of ( mediator), see S. Holm-Nielsen, Hodayot: Psalms from
Qumran (ATDan 2; Aarhus: Universitetsforlaget, 1960), 161 n. 29; Hughes, Scriptural Allusions,
107; Nissinen, Transmitting, 531.
46
These passages use the common prophetic term . On this term in the Hebrew Bible
and Second Temple texts, see discussion in Jassen, Mediating the Divine, 6583.
184
Most significantly, the sectarian opponents are condemned for attempting to seek
God with the aid of lying prophets (( ) l. 16).
The hymn employs a twofold approach to delegitimize the revelatory claims
of the opponents. First, following the trend for Second Temple period texts discussed earlier, the very prophetic titles employed are combined with a range of
adjectives that simultaneously deny any prophetic abilities for these individuals.
Second, the would-be prophetic claims of the opponents are countered by the
hymnists claim to true revelation (see ll. 56, 8, 10, 2223, 2729), an assertion
rhetorically strengthened by the inclusio that surrounds the entire hymn. The
point of the hymn is clear: the prophetic claims of the enemies are unfounded and
should not be trusted. In contrast, the hymnist is a recipient of true revelation.
In order to understand better the purpose of the delegitimization of the revelatory claims of the sectarians enemies, we need to look more closely at the function of opponents claims. Lines 911 lay bare the aspirations of the would-be prophetic opponents:
But they are mediators of (10) a lie and visionaries of deceit. They have plotted
wickedness against me, so as to exchange your law, which you spoke distinctively
in my heart, for smooth things (( )11) directed to your people.
The hymn condemns the opponents for their misguided attempts to change the
divine law. In keeping with the oppositional nature of the hymn, the hymnist locates the enemies misguided application of the law alongside his affirmation to
have received direct instruction from God on the correct understanding of the law.
The enemies are castigated for attempting to alter the law on behalf of the
general publicto exchange the law for smooth things (). This accusation
echoes the similar description in line seven of the enemies as flattering ()
themselves with words. The term ( smooth things) and the associated
verb are generally regarded as a pun on the Pharisaic term halakhot ( )and
contain an implicit condemnation of the Pharisaic law and its exegetical basis. It
thus stands behind the pejorative designation of the Pharisees as Seekers after
Smooth Things.47 The use of the root in both verbal and nominal form draws
on scriptural usages that highlight misguided and deceitful teaching.48 As applied
to the Pharisees, it underscores the sectarian understanding of the Pharisees as
false interpreters of the Torah who derive incorrect legal rulings from their exegesis.49
The hymn associates the pursuit of smooth things with the misguided
spouters (l. 6: ), visionaries (l. 10: ), and mediators (ll. 7, 9: ). The
twofold use of and echoes the similar twofold appearance of these expressions in poetic parallelism in column ten of the Thanksgiving Hymns (1QHa
See bibliography above, n. 14.

See VanderKam, Those Who Look for Smooth Things, 476.
49
Schiffman, Pharisees and Sadducees, 341.
47
48
ALEX P. JASSEN
185
10:1415, 3132).50 The constellation of these negative descriptions of the sectarians enemies reinforces the portrait of the Pharisees as purveyors of false teachings who appeal to their position of authority in order to mislead the unsuspecting
Jewish public. The hymn exposes this as nothing more than another form of false
prophecy.
Lines 1216 further frame the oppositional relationship between the sectarians and their enemies within the context of the appeal to divine sanction. The
hymn balances the presentation of the hymnists divine access by relating how the
opponents also seek divine sanction for their actions. Thus, the hymn continues by
relating a number of methods by which the sectarians enemies attempt to gain
divine approval for their interpretation of the Torah, all of which are categorically
condemned by the hymnist. The primary strategy of the opponents is to consult
God through the agency of lying prophets (l. 16):
They are pretenders; they hatch the plots of Belial, (14) they seek you with a double heart, and are not found in your truth. A root producing poison and wormwood is in their scheming. (15) With a willful heart they look about and seek you
in idols. They have set the stumbling block of their iniquity before themselves,
and they come (16) to seek you through the words of lying prophets corrupted by
error () . With mo[c]king lips and a strange tongue they speak
to your people (17) so as to make a mockery of all their works by deceit.
This hymn paints a portrait of the sectarian opponents as illegitimate interpreters

of the law who seek prophetic support for their attempts to mislead the broader
public regarding the correct understanding and application of the law. In addition
to the condemnation of these opponents as seeking smooth things, several other
keywords draw from other sectarian denouncements of the Pharisees. In so doing,
the hymn reinforces the negative portrait of the secatarians rival for the interpretation of the law.
Lying and misleading are common charges leveled against the Pharisees
and their leaders. The Damascus Document, for example, describes the Man of
Mockery () who is associated with the Seekers After Smooth Things
as spouting on Israel false waters ( ) and misleading Israel
(( )CD 1:1415).51 This individual is likely the same person as the Man of Lie
( ) and the Spouter of Lies ( ) known from other sectarian literature.52 Pesher Psalms condemns the Man of Lie for misleading ( )the people
with false teachings that divert attention away from the true mediator of
knowledge (( ) 4Q171 110 i 2627). The Spouter of Lies similarly misleads many in Pesher Habakkuk (1QpHab 10:9). The emphasis in these passages on
misguided leadership (-hiphil) echoes the portrait of the Pharisees in Pesher
Nahum treated above.53 It is therefore significant that one of the major themes of
See Jassen, Mediating the Divine, 7680.
See VanderKam, Pharisees, 233.
52
VanderKam, Pharisees, 234.
53
Cf. Jassen, Mediating the Divine, 29394. See also CD 5:20, discussed below.
50
51
186
the hymn in column 12 is the condemnation of the opponents for leading their
followers astray (-hiphil/: ll. 7, 16, 20). This portrait is enhanced by the
hymns use of deceit (/ )as a Leitwort to characterize the opponents (ll.
10, 17, 21).
The payoff to this long onslaught of Pharisaic revelatory claims is clear. The
Pharisaic self-identification as expert interpreters of the divine law is unequivocally illegitimate. More importantly, however, the Pharisaic attempts to draw on
these prophetic claims in order to defend their erroneous interpretation of the law
are equally illegitimate. Rather, the hymn reframes the Pharisaic claims as yet
another example of their misguided leadership and false interpretation of the law.
Again, the hymnist contrasts this portrait with his own claim that God made my
face shine by your covenant (l. 5) and spoke (the law) distinctly in my heart (l.
10).
Moreover, the hymn couches a fantasy of retributive justice within the condemnation of the enemies. After outlining the misguided leadership of the Pharisees in lines 1112, the hymnist imagines that God will recognize the enemies as
among the lot of Belial and therefore reject them (ll. 1213). The hymn later frames
this rejection in terms of future divine judgment: You shall cut off in ju[dgm]ent
all deceitful men; seers of error shall no longer be found (l. 20). This expectation
was no doubt bolstered by scriptural images of retributive justice against smooth
speakers.54 Thus, Ps 12:34 both condemns smooth speakers and eagerly anticipates the divine justice that will be meted out against them:
Men speak lies to one another; their speech is smooth ( ;)they talk
with duplicity.
May the Lord cut off all flattering ( )lips, every tongue that speaks
arrogance.
Similarly, Jer 23:12 uses the reduplicated form in outlining the anticipated downfall of the false prophets:
Assuredly, their path shall become like slippery ground ( ;)they
shall be thrust into darkness and there they shall fall; for I will bring disaster upon them, the year of their doomdeclares the Lord.
The appropriation of these two visions of retributive justice would have been
further reinforced by the use of and as keywords in Dan 11 to characterize both the detested Antiochus IV (vv. 21, 32) and other Jews who do not
share Daniels model of resistance (v. 34). As in Dan 11, the hymn anticipates the
retributive justice awaiting Antiochus and the reversal of the power of the insincere Jews. The hymn continues by envisioning this future time when those who
are in harmony with you shall stand before you forever, and those who walk in the
54
I am grateful to Dr. Shalom Holtz for kindly bringing these intertextual references to
my attention.
ALEX P. JASSEN
187
way of your heart shall be secure for evermore (ll. 2122). In so doing, the hymns
fantasy of retributive violence is framed as a reversal of power: the currently empowered Pharisees will be judged and punished for their misguided leadership. At
that time, the currently disempowered sectarians will be restored to their position
of prestige and authority.
FALSE PROPHECY AND THE PHARISEES IN THE DAMASCUS DOCUMENT: The Damascus Document provides another example of the charge of false prophecy employed to delegitimize Pharisaic legal authority:
And at the time of the desolation of the land, the movers of the boundary (
)arose and they led Israel astray (( )21) and the land became desolate,
for they (i.e., the movers of the boundary) spoke defiantly against commandments
of God (sent) through Moses and also (1) through the ones anointed with the holy
(spirit). And they prophesied falsehood () , so as to lead Israel away from
(2) God. (CD 5:206:1)
This passage introduces a group identified only as the movers of the boundary
who lead Israel astray during the time of the desolation of the land. Scholars
have long debated the historical framework presumed by this passage.55 Several
keywords and themes in this passage strongly suggest that CD 5:206:1, as in the
Thanksgiving Hymns, intends to condemn the Pharisees for their misguided leadership and incorrect interpretation of the law. The expression movers of the
boundary ( ) appears elsewhere in the Damascus Document and sectarian
literature.56 Unfortunately, the fragmentary character of these passages precludes
arriving at any definitive conclusions.
Closely related to this phrase, however, is the Damascus Documents condemnation of those that move ( )the boundary (CD 1:16).57 This passage should be
situated in Damascus Documents recurring motif of moving the boundary. The
boundary in these expressions refers to the law.58 Presumably, this expression is
employed in order to criticize the sectarian enemies for their faulty interpretation
of the law. Through this mistaken approach to the law, they move the established boundaries of the law.
I have treated many of these issues at length in Jassen, Mediating the Divine, 29096.
CD 19:1516 // 8:3 cites in full Hos 5:10, upon which the expression is dependent;
4Q266 (4QDa) 1 ab 4; 4Q280 (4QCurses) 3 2. The expression appears in complete isolation in
4Q471 1 2 and 4Q280 3 2. The similar phrase in 4QInstruction (4Q416 2 iv 6; 4Q418 9 + 9a-c 7)
and 4QInstruction-like Composition B (424 3 9) seems unrelated to the expression in the Damascus Document. Both are likely dependent on a similar reading of Hosea. The analysis of the
expression that follows draws on my treatment in Jassen, Mediating the Divine, 29293.
57
The parallel text in 4Q266 2 i 19 has [. The language of this phrase is taken from
Deut 19:14 where the root is employed, as in the other passages from the Damascus Document. Ginzberg questions whether the text in the Damascus Document should therefore be
emended (An Unknown Jewish Sect [New York: Jewish Theological Seminary, 1976], 6). This
seems unlikely in light of the Cave 4 parallel.
58
See Naphtali Wieder, The Judean Scrolls and Karaism (London: East and West Library,
1962), 14041; Chaim Rabin, The Zadokite Documents (Oxford: Clarendon, 1954), 45.
55
56
188
The passage in column one of the Damascus Document goes on to clarify the
treacherous actions of those that move the boundary as: They sought smooth
things (( ) CD 1:18). This characterization ensures that the intended
historical referent in column one of the Damascus Document is the Pharisees, who
are thus also the movers of the boundary.59 Based on this evidence, the movers
of the boundary in CD 5:20 may similarly be identified with the Pharisees.60 The
identification of the movers of the boundary as the Pharisees is further corroborated by the application to them of the keyword to lead astray (hiphil).61
CD 5:206:1 contains a constellation of interrelated accusations leveled
against the movers of the boundary. The charge that the movers of the boundary erroneously interpret the law is amplified by the accusation that they reject
the commandments as transmitted through Moses and the Prophets (i.e., the ones
anointed with the holy [spirit]).62 The reference to Moses and the Prophets is an
allusion to the sectarian belief that the full meaning of the Torah has been progressively revealed, first to Moses and then to the ancient Prophets. Moreover, the
sectarians regarded themselves as the next and last stage in the progressive revelation of law.63 The Pharisees rejection of the progressive revelation is therefore
implicitly a rejection of the sectarians present claim to possess the meaning of the
Torah. Thus, the Pharisees are not condemned here for rejecting the Torah itself,
but rather the sectarians interpretation of the Torah as revealed throughout the
generations. The Pharisees instead offer their incorrect interpretation. All of the
charges leveled against the movers of boundary are consistent with other condemnations of the Pharisees in the sectarian scrolls.
The final accusation against the Pharisees in CD 5:206:2 is that they prophesied falsehood. This charge is likely a continuation of the claim that the Pharisees
falsely interpret the Torah. Yet, the Damascus Document provides no explanation as
to why this condemnation is specifically framed as false prophecy. This accusation
should likely be understood in the context of the earlier assertion that the movers
of the boundary spurned the ancient lawgiving prophets. As noted above, the
Damascus Document presents Moses and the Prophets here as the first two stages in
the progressive revelation of law. The sectarians regard themselves as the most
recent recipients of this progressive revelation and commensurate with the ancient prophets. The Pharisees are therefore condemned for rejecting the entire
scope of revealed understanding of the Torah and instead offering their own false
interpretation. From the perspective of the Damascus Document, however, the Pharisaic interpretation is illegitimate and therefore framed as the opposite of the true
revelation to the sectarians. As in the Thanksgiving Hymns, the charge of false
See VanderKam, Smooth Things, 467.

Schiffman, Pharisees, 325.
61
See Jassen, Mediating the Divine, 29394.
62
On the identification of the ones anointed with the holy (spirit) as ancient prophets, see Jassen, Mediating the Divine, 99100.
63
See Alex P. Jassen, The Presentation of the Ancient Prophets as Lawgivers at Qumran, JBL 127 (2008): 30737.
59
60
ALEX P. JASSEN
189
prophecy delegitimizes the teachings of the Pharisees and their claim to authority
in Jewish society.
Delegitimizing Hasmonean Prophetic Claims

Several additional passages from the Dead Sea Scrolls reflect the degree to
which the sectarians sought to delegitimize the prophetic claims of the Hasmonean priests/kings. Similar to the passages discussed above regarding the Pharisees,
the indictment of Hasmonean prophetic claims as false provides a rhetorical tool
for the sectarians to deny the legitimacy of the Hasmonean grip on power and to
imagine a scenario in which the Hasmonean monopoly on royal and priestly power
is reversed.
FALSE PROPHECY AND THE HASMONEANS IN 4QTESTIMONIA: The first text that is relevant to this discussion is 4QTestimonia (4Q175).64 This manuscript combines four
scriptural passages without any intervening exegetical elaboration:
1.
2.
3.
4.
Lines 18: Exod 20:22 according to the pre-Samaritan Pentateuch (= MT Deut

5:2526 and 18:1819)
Line 813: Num 24:1517
Lines 1320: Deut 33:811
Lines 2130: Apocryphon of Joshua (4Q379) 22 ii 714
The combination of the first three passages has long been understood as affirming
sectarian eschatological aspirations. Thus, the first passage from Exod 20:22 in the
pre-Samaritan Pentateuch textual tradition anticipates the arrival of an eschatological prophet. Numbers 24:1517 reflects an understanding of Balaams prophecy
as referring to the royal messiah, while Deut 33:811 is regarded as portending the
priestly Messiah. Taken together, these passages confirm the scriptural basis for
the sectarians expectation of three eschatological protagonists.65
At first glance, the final passage seems ill fitted to this catena of eschatological
prooftexts. The cited passage from the Apocryphon of Joshua contains an expansion
of Joshuas curse against the rebuilder of Jericho (Jos 6:26):
(21) When Joshua finished praying and offering psalms of praise, (22) he said,
Cursed be anyone who tries to rebuild this city! With his firstborn (23) he shall
lay its foundation, and with this youngest he shall set up its gates! (Jos 6:26). Be64
The editio princeps appears in John M. Allegro with Arnold A. Anderson, Qumran Cave
4/I (4Q1584Q186) (DJD 5; Oxford: Clarendon, 1968), 5760. This text has been the subject of
intense scholarly analysis. In addition to the bibliography provided in the following notes,
see also the recent edition prepared by Frank Moore Cross in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew,
Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations: Pesharim, Other Commentaries, and Related
Documents (ed. J. H. Charlesworth; PTSDSSP 6b; Tbingen: Mohr Siebeck; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2002), 31219
65
See Gza G. Xeravits, King, Priest, Prophet: Positive Eschatological Protagonists in the Qumran Library (STDJ 47; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 5758.
190

hold, one cursed man, one belonging to Belial, (24) is about to arise to be a
fow[lers n]et to his people and a source of destruction to all his neighbors. Then
shall arise (25) [so]ns [after him,] the two of them [to b]e weapons of violence.
They shall rebuild (26) [this city and s]et up for it a wall and towers, creating a
stronghold of evil (27) [and a great wickedness] in Israel, a thing of horror in
Ephraim and Judah. (28) [. . .] They shall [wo]rk blasphemy in the land, a great uncleanness among the children of (29) [Jacob. They shall pour out blo]od like water
upon the bulwark of the daughter of Zion and within the city limits of (30) Jerusalem. (4Q175 2130)
As many scholars have noted, the target of this expanded curse in the 4QTestimonia
is likely the Hasmonean king John Hyrcanus I (134104 BCE), who undertook significant building projects at Jericho.66 In its new location in 4QTestimonia, the passage
from the Apocryphon of Joshua condemns John Hyrcanus as a man of Belial whose
building projects yield only violence and bloodshed.67 Eshel has further argued that
the death of Hyrcanuss two sons Antigonus and Aristobulus I (104/3 BCE) is regarded as the fulfillment of Joshuas curse on the builder of Jericho. This is based
on the interpretation of with his firstborn ( )and with his youngest
( )from Jos 6:26 as implying that these children will die on account of the
actions of their father in rebuilding Jericho.68
Bertholet rightly notes that 4QTestimonia never mentions the death of the two
sons. Rather, lines 2526 indicate that these sons worked together with their father
to rebuild the city. She therefore renders the bet of and as simply
with or with the help of.69 Following this interpretation, Jos 6:26 would have
been understood as containing a general curse against the rebuilder of Jericho,
followed by a declarative statement that this rebuilding was done with the aid of
his sons. As further noted by Bertholet, however, even if the curse was not under-
66
This suggestion is commonplace in scholarly literature on 4QTestimonia. See especially
Eshel, The Succession of High Priests, 6390; Katell Bertholet, 4QTestimonia as a Polemic
against the Prophetic Claims of John Hyrcanus, in Prophecy after the Prophets: The Contribution
of the Dead Sea Scrolls to the Understanding of Biblical and Extra-Biblical Prophecy (ed. K. de Troyer,
A. Lange, and L. L. Schulte; CBET 52; Leuven: Peeters, 2009), 99118. As noted by Eshel (pp.
6970), scholars have offered a host of different explanations for the object of the curse in
the Apocryphon of Joshua. The background for the composition of the Apocryphon of Joshua,
however, must be distinguished from how the curse was understood in its use in
4QTestimonia (so also Bertholet, pp. 1023). For 4QTestimonia, Eshel summarizes other suggestions for the Hasmonean identification of the man of Belial. Eshels arguments in favor of
identifying the man of Belial with John Hyrcanus, however, are much stronger.
67
Note that Eshel, The Succession of High Priests, 8386, argues that the Apocryphon of
Joshua is citing 4QTestimonia. Bertholet, 4QTestimonia, 1003, responds to each of Eshels
arguments and defends the more widespread view that 4QTestimonia is citing the Apocryphon
of Joshua.
68
Hence NJPS on Jos 6:26: At the cost of his firstborn . . . his youngest. This is clearly
the understanding of Jos 6:26 in 1 Kgs 16:34.
69
Bertholet, 4QTestimonia, 1067. She is following an earlier suggestion by Carol
Newsom, The Psalms of Joshua from Qumran Cave 4, JJS 39 (1988): 5673 (60).
ALEX P. JASSEN
191
stood to refer to the death of Hyrcanuss sons, the other evidence pointing in the
direction of identifying the man of Belial as John Hyrcanus is compelling.
This scathing invective against John Hyrcanus follows after three passages
that affirm the anticipated arrival of a future prophet, king, and priest. As has been
correctly observed by numerous readers of this text, 4QTestimonia polemically challenges John Hyrcanuss claim to all three of these offices.70 Bertholet further suggests that 4QTestimonia is specifically directed at Hyrcanuss unification of all of
these offices in one person. As the first three passages in 4QTestimonia affirm, these
three offices should be held by three different people.71
The rejection of Hyrcanuss prophetic claims must be situated in broader traditions about Hyrcanus as a prophet. In several places, Josephus admiringly calls
attention to Hyrcanuss prophetic capabilities (Ant. 13.28283; 32223). Most famously, Josephus concludes his account of Hyrcanuss reign with the following
summation:
He was esteemed by God worthy of three of the greatest privileges: the government of his nation, the dignity of the high priesthood, and prophecy; for God was
with him, and enabled him to know futurities; and to foretell this in particular,
that, as to his two eldest sons, he foretold that they would not long continue in the
government of public affairs. (Ant. 13.299300; cf. B.J. 1.6869)
As noted by Rebecca Gray, Josephuss description of John Hyrcanus as a prophet

seems to be drawing on a broader set of sources.72 Indeed, the tradition of Hyrcanuss prophetic identity is known from later rabbinic literature (e.g., t.So. 13:5). It
is very likely therefore that others besides Josephus acknowledged Hyrcanuss
prophetic identity and similarly admired him for it. 4QTestimonia reflect an opposing stream in Second Temple Judaism that rejects the identification of Hyrcanus as
a prophet alongside the rejection of Hasmonean royal and priestly claims.
The preceding description of the polemical nature of 4QTestimonia toward
John Hyrcanus is entirely correct. In what follows, however, I suggest that there is
an additional rhetorical layer to this text that positions it as yet another example
of the sectarians attempt to deny the legitimacy of Hasmonean power and prestige. 4QTestimonia does more than merely juxtapose the sectarians eschatological
expectations of a prophet, priest, and king with the negative portrayal of John
See, e.g., John J. Collins, He Shall Not Judge by What His Eyes See: Messianic Authority in the Dead Sea Scrolls, DSD 2 (1994): 14564 (150); Eshel, The Succession of High
Priests, 87; Armin Lange, The False Prophets Who Arose against Our God (4Q339 1), in
Aramaica Qumranica: Proceedings of the Conference on the Aramaic Texts from Qumran at Aix-enProvence (June 30July 2, 2008) (ed. K. Berthelot and D. Stkl Ben Ezra; STDJ 94; Leiden: Brill,
2010), 20524 (21516).
71
See Bertholet, 4QTestimonia, 1045. On the more general criticism of the Hasmonean unification of priestly and royal powers, see Daniel R. Schwartz, On Pharisaic Opposition
to the Hasmonean Monarchy, in Studies in the Jewish Background of Christianity (WUNT 60;
Tbingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1992), 4456.
72
Gray, Prophetic Figures, 2223. See also Eshel, The Succession of High Priests, 7677.
70
192
Hyrcanus in the final passage. Rather, following a line of analysis initiated by Hanan Eshel, I suggest that the citation from the Apocryphon of Joshua subtly rejects
Hyrcanuss claims to each of these titles and reinscribes him as nothing more than
a false prophet. In so doing, 4QTestimonia rejects the Hasmonean grip on priestly,
royal, and prophetic power at the same time as it simultaneously affirms that the
true bearers of these offices have yet to arrive.
Let us look first at the portrait of priestly authority in 4QTestimonia. Line 25
identifies John Hyrcanuss sons as weapons of violence. This expression draws
from Gen 49:5, where this imagery is applied to Simeon and Levi on account of
their attack on Shechem. Eshel has suggested that the conquest of Shechem was
likely seen as analogous to the capture of Samaria by Hyrcanuss sons Antigonus
and Aristobulus in 108 BCE (Josephus B.J. 1.6466; Ant. 13.27583). Shechem and Samaria are geographically close and, in both cases, the sons attacked and vanquished a city by themselves.73 Several texts in the Second Temple period valorize
the violence of Simeon and Levi.74 Levis actions in particular provide a potent
template for priestly militancy. The model of an aggressive policy of militant expansion under priestly auspices would have provided significant support for the
expansionist foreign policy of the priestly Hasmoneans.
4QTestimonia, however, reverses the broader Second Temple period understanding of Levi. The sectarians do not share in the valorization of Levi and its role
in forging a militant priesthood. Rather, 4QTestimonia draws upon the scriptural
censure of Levis violent actions to condemn both Hasmonean violence and their
claim to represent the legitimate priestly heirs of Levi. 4QTestimonia further rejects
the notion that the priestly weapons of violence in line 25 represent the fulfillment of the citation from Deut 33:11 regarding Levi found earlier in lines 1920:
Crush the loins of his adversaries, of those who hate him, so that they do not rise
again.
4QTestimonia also contains a subtle rejection of Hyrcanuss claim to royal power. Line 24 denounces Hyrcanus for the destruction to all his neighbors. John
Hyrcanus was well known for his wars through which he greatly expanded the
border of the Hasmonean kingdom and brought ruin to neighboring regions.75
Among his many conquests was the neighboring region of Moab. As observed by
Eshel, Hyrcanuss admirers no doubt saw his conquest of Moab as a fulfillment of
Balaams prediction found earlier in 4QTestimonia: A star rises from Jacob, A scepter comes forth from Israel; It smashes the borderlands of Moab, and the territory
of Seth (Num 24:17). The star and the scepter are widely understood in the
Eshel, The Succession of High Priests, 80.

See, e.g., Jub. 30; Aramaic Levi Document 7879. See further Christophe Batsch, La guerre
et les rites de guerre dans le judaisme du deuxieme Temple (JSJSup 93; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 11725;
Joseph L. Angel, Otherworldly and Eschatological Priesthood in the Dead Sea Scrolls (STDJ 86; Leiden: Brill, 2010), 27071.
75
See, e.g., Josephus B.J. 1.6263; Ant. 13.25458; and Eshel, The Succession of High
Priests, 81.
73
74
ALEX P. JASSEN
193
Second Temple period to refer to a future royal (sometimes messianic) figure who
will vanquish Israels foes.76
Other allusions to Moab in 4QTestimonia, however, serve to reject the belief
that Hyrcanus and his conquests are the fulfillment of Num 24:17. Eshel notes the
similarities between the expression employed for Hyrcanuss expansionists wars in
4QTestimonia and Jer 48:39, which describes the dread experienced by Moab at its
downfall and how Moabs destruction serves as an example for all its neighbors of
Gods destructive power:
4Q175 24: Destruction ( )to all his neighbors
Jer 48:39: How he is dismayed ( !)Wail! How Moab has turned his back in
shame! Moab shall be a laughingstock. And destruction ( )to all those near
him.
The expression destruction to all his neighbors in 4QTestimonia serves two functions. t should be read in a straightforward way to affirm the reality of Hasmonean expansionist power and John Hyrcanus as the instrument of these conquests.77
At the same time, the similarity to the expression in Jer 48:39 describing the dismay experienced by Moab and its neighbors following Moabs destruction fulfills
two functions. First, it rejects the notion that the Hasmonean expansionist policies
make the kingdom more powerful. Rather, Hyrcanuss empire will crumble just as
Moabs. Second, by aligning Hyrcanuss and Moabs kingdoms, 4QTestimonia dispels
any notion that Hyrcanuss actions represent the realization of Balaams prophecynotwithstanding the fact that Hyrcanus did in fact destroy Moab. The eschatological sense attached to Balaams prophecy in 4QTestimonia reinforces the belief
that Judeas neighborsincluding Moabwill only be fully eradicated in the endtime war by the true royal messiah. Indeed, Moab appears in the War Scrolls list of
Israels arch-enemies that will be destroyed in the eschatological war (1QM 1:12).
Alongside the rejection of Hyrcanuss royal and priestly authority, the final
passage in 4QTestimonia applies to John Hyrcanus several key expressions that
serve to indict him as no better than a lying prophet. Line 24 describes the man of
Belial as a fow[lers n]et ( )] [to his people. The expression draws from Hos
9:78:
The days of punishment have come for your heavy guilt; the days of requital have
comeLet Israel know it! The prophet was distraught, the inspired man driven
76
See CD 7:1921; 1QM 11:67; Ps. Sol. 17; Philo Praem. 95; cf. Tg. Onq., Ps.-J., Neof. on Num
24:17; y.Taan. 4:6 68d. See the discussion in John J. Collins, The Scepter and the Star: Messianism
in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls (2d ed.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 7173.
77
See Bertholet, 4QTestimonia, 1078.
194

mad by constant harassment. Ephraim watches for my God. As for the prophet,
fowlers nets are on all his paths, harassment in the house of his God.78
The passage in Hosea seems to describe the harassment of the true prophet against
the background of prophetic conflict. The fowlers nets are understood as a hostile impediment placed before the true prophet. 4QTestimonia reorients the fowlers nets to trap his people. In drawing on this key expression, 4QTestimonia
likely intends to indict Hyrcanus for harassment of contemporary true prophets.79
By reinscribing John Hyrcanus as the one who lays the net that ensnares prophets,
4QTestimonia implicitly rejects Hyrcanuss prophetic identity and reorients him
among all the false prophets. Moreover, the broader passage in Hos 9:78 is located
in the future days of punishment when the guilty are expected to suffer for their
misdeeds. The application of this passage to John Hyrcanus likely is framed by the
sectarians fantasy of eschatological retribution against its enemies. 4QTestimonia
reflects the wish that Hyrcanus will suffer that same fate for his iniquities as the
condemned harasser in Hos 9:78.
Several other keywords in the final passages further associate John Hyrcanus
with false prophets. The reference to a thing of horror ( )in Ephraim and
Judah (l. 27) is likely an allusion to Jer 5:3031:
An appalling, horrible thing ( )has happened in the land: The prophets
prophesy falsely, and the priests rule accordingly; And my people like it so. But
what will you do at the end of it?
The twofold identification of Hyrcanuss action as a thing of horror and blasphemy (( )l. 28) echoes a similar twofold indictment of the false prophets of
Jerusalem in Jer 23:1415:
But what I see in the prophets of Jerusalem is something horrifying ():
Adultery and false dealing. They encourage evildoers, so that no one turns back
from his wickedness. To me they are all like Sodom, and [all] its inhabitants like
Gomorrah. Assuredly, thus said the Lord of Hosts concerning the prophets: I am
going to make them eat wormwood and drink a bitter draft; for from the prophets
of Jerusalem godlessness ( )has gone forth to the whole land.
The employment of each of these keywords and their scriptural allusions make a
clear rhetorical point: John Hyrcanuss prophetic claims are illegitimate. By reinscribing this same assessment for John Hyrcanus, 4QTestimonia refashions his prophetic identity to include all the negative assessments of prophets while simultaneously anticipating the same reversal of power expected for ancient false prophets. Indeed, Jer 23:20 provides a template for the eschatological punishment of the
false prophets:
78
The expression also appears in Ps 91:3. See Eshel, The Succession of High Priests, 80;
Bertholet, 4QTestimonia, 1089.
79
Bertholet, 4QTestimonia, 109.
ALEX P. JASSEN
195
The anger of the Lord shall not turn back until it has fulfilled and completed his
purposes. In the end of day you shall clearly perceive it.
By unmasking Hyrcanuss true identity as a false prophet, 4QTestimonia delegitimizes his entire claim to power and authority, and by extension the Hasmonean
grip on power. As such, 4QTestimonia still awaits the future arrival of the true eschatological prophet, priest, and king who will vanquish the enemies of Israel in
accordance with the predictions articulated in the earlier passages in 4QTestimonia.
Moreover, when these eschatological figures do arrive, it will herald the return of
the sectarians to the very positions of power enjoyed by John Hyrcanus and the
Hasmoneans.
FALSE PROPHECY AND THE HASMONEANS IN 4QLIST OF FALSE PROPHETS: John Hyrcanus and
his prophetic identity come into the crosshairs of the Dead Sea Scrolls sectarians
once more in a fragmentary manuscript entitled 4QList of False Prophets (4Q339) by
its editors.80 This text contains a list of eight individuals who are introduced as
[fal]se prophets who arose against Israel, [( ][ ]4Q339
1).81 The list of prophets begins with Balaam son of Beor and includes six other
prophetic individuals known from the Hebrew Bible.82 This particular list should be
situated in the same setting as the reframing of false prophecy in the Second Temple period attested by the Septuagint and Josephus. Each of these individuals ap80
See the editio princeps in Magen Broshi and Ada Yardeni, 4Q339. List of False Prophets
ar, in Qumran Cave 4.XIV: Parabiblical Texts, Part 2 (ed. M. Broshi et al.; DJD 19; Oxford: Clarendon, 1995), 7779. This follows their earlier presentations of the text: On Netinim and False
Prophets, Tarbiz 62 (19921993): 4554 (Hebrew); On Netinim and False Prophets, in Solving
Riddles and Untying Knots: Biblical, Epigraphic, and Semitic Studies on Honor of Jonas C. Greenfield
(ed. Z. Zevit, S. Gitin, and M. Sokoloff; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1995), 3337. For a recent
discussion of this text with full bibliography, see Armin Lange, False Prophets (incorporating a response by Hanan Eshel and further discussion).
81
The editio princeps has arose in Israel. Aharon Shemesh, A Note on 4Q339 List of
False Prophets, RevQ 20 (2000): 31920, however, observes that Balaam, the first individual
on the list, was not Israelite and thus could not arise in Israel. Thus, he points to the adversative nature of , and suggests the translation against Israel. See also Emile Puechs
proposal that the final word on the line reflects ink traces that are best reconstructed as
][, against our God (reported in Lange, False Prophets, 206 n. 7).
82
The Old man from Bethel (1 Kgs 13:1131), Zedekiah son of Chenaanah (1 Kgs 22:1
28; 2 Chr 18:127), Ahab son of Koliath (Jer 29:2124), Zedekiah son of Maaseiah (Jer 29:21
24), Shemaiah the Nehlemite (Jer 29:2432), Hananiah son of Azur (Jer 28). Note that
4QTestimonia and 4QList of False Prophets present divergent approaches to Balaams prophecy.
While 4QList of False Prophets brands Balaam a false prophet, 4QTestimonia identifies Balaam as
prophesying the future arrival of the Messiah. These texts reflect competing trends in ancient Judaism regarding Balaams prophetic identity. See further discussion in Jay Braverman, Balaam in Rabbinic and Early Christian Tradition, in Joshua Finkel Festschrift (ed. S. B.
Hoenig and L.D. Stitskin; New York: Yeshiva University Press, 1974), 4150; Florentino Garca
Martnez, Balaam in the Dead Sea Scrolls, in The Prestige of the Pagan Prophet Balaam in Judaism, Early Christianity and Islam (G. H. van Kooten and J. T. A. G. M. van Ruiten; TBN 10; Leiden:
Brill, 2008), 7182; Ronit Nikolsky, Interpret Him as Much as You Want: Balaam in the Babylonian Talmud, in The Prestige of the Pagan Prophet Balaam, 21330.
196
pears in their original scriptural contexts merely as prophets. 4QList of False Prophets, however, casts aspersions on the contemptible nature of their prophetic message and accordingly brands each of them as a false prophet.83 As noted above, the
identification of the Old man from Bethel (1 Kgs 13:11) on this list of false prophets matches Josephuss reframing of this individual as a certain vile old man, a
false prophet.
The final line of this fragment preserves only three visible letters: [. The
previous seven names on the list are all scriptural prophets who in hindsight are
judged to be false prophets. Of the seven identifiable names, the Old man from
Bethel (l. 3) and Shemaiah the Nehlemite (l. 7) are identified by their place name
because that is the way they are introduced in their scriptural contexts (i.e., without a patronym). All the other names in the list are introduced with their patronym as in their scriptural contexts. Yet, no scriptural prophet is known whose
patronym ends in -. Magen Broshi and Ada Yardeni, following an earlier suggestion made by Alexander Rof and Elisha Qimron, proposed that a contemporary
figure is in fact in view in the final line. They therefore reconstruct the final word
as [and the entire name as [John Hyrcanus I.84
Why would somebody create a list such as this one and why would the Dead
Sea Scrolls sectarians be interested in preserving it in their literary collection? In
his initial discussion of this manuscript, Qimron proposes that the entire list was
created with the final contemporary figure in mind.85 By lumping together this
contemporary figure with the paradigmatic false prophets from Israels past, the
list delegitimizes the would-be prophetic claims of this contemporary figure.86
This understanding of the function of the list makes good sense if this final
figure is in fact John Hyrcanus. As noted above, Josephus portrays Hyrcanus as
having prophetic capabilities and others likely shared his positive assessment of
these traits. 4QList of False Prophets, similar to 4QTestimonia, reflects a stream within
Judaism that rejects the glowing admiration of Hyrcanuss prophetic identity enshrined in Josephuss portrait. Many Jews during Hyrcanuss reign were either
83
See Lange, False Prophets, 21213.

See Alexander Rof, The List of False Prophets from Qumran: Two Riddles and Their
Solution, Haaretz April 13, 1994 (Hebrew); Elisha Qimron, On the List of False Prophets from
Qumran, Tarbiz 63 (19931994): 27375 (275) (Hebrew); Broshi and Yardeni, On Netinim and
False Prophets, 3637. Note that Broshi and Yardeni offer another possible reading in the
editio princeps (based on another suggestion from Qimron): ] [, [a prophet
from Gib]eon (Broshi and Yardeni, Qumran Cave 4.XIV, 79; see Elisha Qimron, A Further
Note on the List of False Prophets from Qumran, Tarbiz 63 [19931994]: 508 [Hebrew]). The
assumption is that this offers further information about Hananiah son of Azur from line
eight. While paleographically and conceptually plausible, this restoration appears incongruous with the rest of the list in which the individuals are only introduced with the place of
residence and not the patronym if that is how they are known from their scriptural context.
See Lange, False Prophets, 206. Lange also notes that no other prophet is given two lines in
the text.
85
Qimron, False Prophets, 275.
86
See also Lange, False Prophets, 212.
84
ALEX P. JASSEN
197
ambivalent toward his rule or antagonistic.87 4QList of False Prophets likely emerges
from one of these circles and takes direct aim at Hyrcanuss prophetic capabilities,
which likely was considered by many as an important source of legitimacy for his
reign. 4QList of False Prophets does not include Hyrcanus in the seemingly rightful
lineage of ancient Israelite kings, but rather as the heir to the lineage of ancient
false prophetsindeed, the pinnacle of false prophecy.88
4QList of False Prophets is most likely a product of the broader literary heritage
of Second Temple Judaism and not composed by the Dead Sea Scrolls sectarians.89
At the same time, the sectarians had a vested interest in preserving this text within their literary collection. 4QList of False Prophets reinforces the sectarians negative views of the Hasmoneans. More particularly, its reframing of John Hyrcanus as
a false prophet underscores the sectarians belief that both Hyrcanuss and the
Hasmoneans power in Judean society are illegitimate. The inclusion of Hyrcanus
on this list also contributes to the sectarians fantasy of retributive justice for their
opponents. While each of the other false prophets on the list once enjoyed prestige
and authority, they eventually suffer the consequences for their errant prophetic
message. A similar fate is imagined for Hyrcanus and the Hasmonean rulers.
CONCLUSIONS
Faced with a present reality in which they recognized their marginalized and
disempowered position, the Dead Sea Scrolls sectarians advocated for a nonviolent
form of imagined resistance. I have outlined three ways in which the sectarians
achieved these goals. First, they portray themselves as the persistent victim of
violent oppression at the hand of their empowered enemies. This model goes beyond the actual historical circumstances that governed the relationship of the
constellation of sectarian communities to their enemies. In crafting this dual narrative of victimhood and the empowered other, the sectarians heightened their
self-perception as Gods elect and underscored the aberrant nature of the present
distribution of power.
In a related way, the second form of resistance involves the sectarians attempt to chip away at their enemies grip on power through rhetorical attacks on
the legitimacy of the empowered groups. In this study, I have examined how the
accusations of false prophecy were employed in order to delegitimize the power
and prestige of the Hasmoneans and Pharisees. There is little evidence, however,
that these rhetorical attacks were anything more than part of an internal discourse. The portraits of the Hasmonean and Pharisaic power represent a mix of
historical reality and sectarian imagination fueled by the sectarians narrative of
victimhood.
Much of this evidence is summarized in Lange, False Prophets, 21316.

Lange, False Prophets, 216.
89
See discussion in Lange, False Prophets, 20910.
87
88
198
Third, the sectarains took refuge in their fantasy of eschatological retribution

when the present imbalance of power would finally be reversed. Alongside the
accusation of false prophecy, the sectarians imagined a future time when their
enemies would experience the same fate as other false prophets. In this fantasy,
the wickedboth foreigners and other Jews will suffer in ways commensurate with
their contemporary oppression. The imagined future annihilation of its enemies
allows the sectarians both to gain a measure of retribution for their current perceived suffering and envision their reversal from powerlessness to empowerment.
Index of Ancient Texts

Hebrew Bible
Genesis
10, 88 n.7
18:2233, 132 n.9
19:24, 101 n.65
49:5, 192
Exodus
67, 66
20:2, 59
20:22, 189
Leviticus
17:89, 165 n.59
Numbers
15:14, 165 n.59
24:1517, 189
24:17, 192-93
Deuteronomy
5, 66
5:2526, 189
18:1819, 189
18:1822, 181
18:2122, 139
19:14, 187 n.57
26:9, 103
33:811, 189
33:11, 192
Joshua
6:26, 18990
1 Samuel
2:10, 35, 140 n.29
8:1118, 165 n.61
3:18, 139 n.26
5:2, 139 n.26, 157
n.34
7:7, 157 n.34
7:817, 134
19:22, 140 n.29, 157
n.34
22:51, 140 n.29
23:1, 140 n.29, 157
n.34
23:17, 134
23:2, 157 n.34
23:5, 134
1 Kings
5:9-14, 160, 162
8:2426, 139 n.26
10, 160, 162
13:11, 182, 196
13:1131, 195 n.82
16:34, 190 n.68
19:2228, 166 n.62
22:128, 195 n.82
2 Kings
9:7, 131 n.5
17:13, 131 n.5
17:1320, 131 n.6
17:23, 131 n.5
1819, 57, 59
18:13, 116 n.31
18:1416, 114, 117
n.36
18:1719:37, 116 n.31
18:25, 59
18:1719:9a, 6667
n.7
19:34, 139 n.26
21:7, 157 n.35
21:10, 131 n.5
23, 58
23:4, 67, 130
23:25, 137
23:25b267, 137
24:2, 131 n.5
199
25:67, 136
25:7, 135
25:811, 168
25:21, 137
25:2226, 137
25:2526, 130
25:2730, 136
25:30, 137
Isaiah
15, 127
139, 135 n.12
166, 109, 110 n.3,
127
1:1, 128
1:78, 127
1:29, 130
2:24, 159, 161 n.45,
162
2:25, 127
2:3, 159
3:14:1, 127
5:13, 2629, 127
748, 127
7:1, 127
7:39a, 112
7:89, 114 n.22
7:17, 126
7:1819, 120
17:1820, 126
8:14, 11213, 114
n.21
8:14*, 112 n.18
8:3, 112
8:4, 112, 122
8:6, 114 n.21
8:68, 114 n.21
8:68*, 114
8:7, 112 n.16, 114
8:8, 114
200
8:8b, 114
9:16, 135 n.12
9:56, 159 n.41
9:57, 159 n.41
10, 101, 106, 119
10:1, 115
10:115, 116
10:3, 96, 100
10:34a, 122
10:5, 115, 120, 122,
168
10:56, 122
10:515, 115, 119,
122, 124
10:67, 115
10:811, 116
10:9, 11516, 118
10:1011, 115, 166
n.62
10:12, 115
10:1214, 122
10:1314, 116
10:15, 115, 122
10:1619, 119
10:2223, 122
10:24, 120
10:2427a, 120
11:19, 135 n.12, 159
n.41
13, 123, 167 n.67
13:122, 122
13:11, 123
13:1618, 123
13:19, 123
14, 102, 106
1427, 145, 147
14:1, 165 n.59
14:323, 166 n.63
14:324, 167 n.67
14:4b21, 122
14:5, 122
14:915, 122
14:12, 106 n.94
14:2124, 167 n.66
14:2427, 119, 162

n.52
14:2425, 119
14:25a, 120
16:5, 135 n.12
17:13, 112
17:13*, 112 n.18
19, 120
19:4, 120
19:115, 120
19:1617, 120
19:18, 120
19:1922, 120
19:20, 166 n. 61
19:23, 120
19:2425, 120
19:1925, 109
21:110, 122
28:13*, 112 n.18
28:14, 11213
28:2, 11214
28:7b10, 82 n.64
28:1422, 130 n.4
29:18, 127
30:15, 121
30:2733, 120, 126,
167 n.66
31:13, 121
31:45, 127
33:1, 12526
36, 57, 118
3637, 11819, 121,
124, 127
3638, 59
3639, 157
36:410, 117
36:5, 117
36:6, 117, 121
36:7, 11718
36:89, 118
36:10, 59, 11718
36:11, 11718
36:13, 118
36 13b20, 117
36:1416a, 117
36:1819, 118
36:20, 117
37:120, 118
37:21, 123
37:21b29, 119, 122
37:23-24, 119
37:2329, 166 n.62
37:24, 119
37:2425, 119
37:25b, 120
37:2628, 119
37:29a, 119
37:29b, 119
37:36, 127
37:3637, 120
37:3638, 117
4048, 134, 138, 157
4055, 102, 123, 133,
135, 136 n.13, 139,
141 n.31, 162
4066, 133, 159 n.41
40:152:12, 156 n.31
40:1112, 140
40:1214, 21, 26, 28,
139 n.24
41:15, 138 n.17
41:2, 138 n.19, 139
n.21
41:9, 158 n.39
41:21, 138 n.19
41:2223, 139 n.23
41:25, 134, 138 n.19,
139 n.21
41:2529, 138 n.17,
139 n.23
42:14, 138, 14041
42:1, 159
42:5, 139 n.24
42:59, 140
42:6, 134, 141, 158
n.39, 159, 161
42:7, 138
42:1825, 139 n.25
43:14, 138 n.17
43:15, 138 n.19
INDEX OF ANCIENT TEXTS

43:2228, 139 n.25
44:6, 138 n.19
44:78, 139 n.23
44:2445:13, 12425
44:2445:25, 157 n.36
44:2428, 157 n.36
44:2628, 139 n.23
44:28, 124, 138, 140,
156 n.31, 157 nn.34,
36
45:1, 61, 124, 14041,
157 n.34
45:17, 136 n.13, 138
n.17, 141, 156 n.31
45:18, 157 n.36
45:3, 134, 141
45:4, 124, 134, 141,
158
45:45, 134
45:5, 141, 159
45:57, 159
45:7, 139 n.24
45:913, 139 n.25
45:12, 139 n.24
45:1213, 156 n.31,
157 n.36
45:13, 138, 139 n.21,
156 n.31
45:14, 159, 161 nn.45,
50
45:18, 139 n.24
46:813, 139 n.25
46:11, 138 n.17
47:1, 123
47:15, 123
47:115, 122
47:89, 124
47:1115, 123
48:111, 139 n.25
48:35, 139 n.23
48:1215, 157 n.36,
158 n.39
48:13, 139 n.24
48:1416, 138 n.17
48:15, 158 n.39
48:16b, 139 n.23

48:20, 126
4966, 127
49:1, 158 n.39
49:7, 159
49:1418, 156 n.31
49:23, 159
50:1, 124
50:4, 139 n.21
51:2, 158 n.39
51:3, 156 n.31
52:2, 123
52:20, 88 n.7
54:18, 124
55:12, 133
55:15, 13335
55:35, 13335, 139,
161 nn.45, 50
55:45, 159
55:5, 134
5666, 145, 147
57:18, 163 n.54, 165
n.59
56:67, 159
57:313, 130
60:13, 159
60:114, 127
60:9, 159
60:1016, 161 n.45
60:1920, 159
62:2, 88 n.7
63:16, 127
65:11, 130
66:624, 128
66:10, 88 n.7
66:17, 130
66:19, 88 n.7
66:21, 165 n.59
66:22, 127
66:24, 127,
Jeremiah
book, 145
3:17, 161 n.45
5:3031, 194
201
7:25, 131 n.5
7:32, 103
17:2425, 135 n.12
21:110, 122 n.52
22:14, 135 n.12
22:26, 136
23:56, 135 n.12, 159
n.41
23:12, 186
23:1415, 194
23:20, 194
25:114, 168
25:4, 131 n.5
25:9, 60, 93 n.23, 168
25:1112, 168
26:5, 131 n.5
27:111, 122 n.52
27:6, 60, 93 n.23, 168
28, 195 n.82
29, 168 n. 70
29:19, 131 n.5
29:2124, 195 n.82
29:2432, 195 n.82
30:89, 135 n.12
30:811, 159 n.41
32:23, 168 n. 72
33:1426, 135 n.12,
159 n.41
33:2122, 26, 139
n.26
35:15, 131 n.5
39:9, 168
40:141:18, 137
40:2, 168 n. 72
40:23, 168
40:741:18, 168 n. 70
41:1, 137
41:143:7, 130
42:122, 168 n. 70
43:113, 168 n. 70
43:10, 60, 93 n.23
44:114, 130
44:130, 168 n. 70
44:4, 131 n.5
48:39, 193
202
49, 101, 106

49:2833, 101
50, 167 n.67
50:45, 159 n.41
50:1920, 159 n.41
51:17 (LXX), 130 n.2
51:2428, 167 n.67
52:1227, 168,
Ezekiel
book, 145
13, 66
4:46, 91
8:56, 130
13:11, 92
13:13, 92 n.20
14:1223, 132
16, 107
17, 9296, 103, 107
17:110, 92
17:5, 92
17:56, 92
17:6, 92
17:78, 92 n.22
17:8, 92
17:910, 9293 n.22
17:10, 92, 93
17:1121, 92
17:1124, 93
17:1314, 92
17:1618, 92
17: 1921, 92
17:20, 93, 94
17:24, 94
18, 107
18:124, 132
18:25, 132
19, 92
20:2325, 88 n.7
21, 100
21:31, 94
23, 100, 106107
23:12, 100
23:1218, 100
26:1618, 168 n. 69
27, 100, 166

2728, 168 n. 69
28, 91, 166
29:1820, 122 n.52
31, 92, 166 n.63
32, 166 n.63
33:2129, 168 n. 70
3437, 87
34:23, 139 n.26
34:2324, 135 n.12
34:2330, 159 n.41
37, 99, 108
37:114, 99, 104
37:1528, 99, 104, 159
n.41
37:24, 139 n.26
37:2428, 135 n.12
38, 100
38:113, 99100
38:4, 100, 104, 106
38:4b5, 100
38:713, 101, 106
38:9, 92, 96, 100, 104
38:1013, 101
38:12, 100
38:1423, 99, 101
38:15, 101 n.65
38:16, 9798
38:22, 101 n.65
38:23, 9798, 101
3839, 8791, 9699,
102, 104, 106108
3848, 90, 98100,
104, 106108
39, 162 n.51
39:1b, 102
39:12, 102
39:18, 99, 101102,
106
39:120, 162 n.52
39:2, 102
39:3, 102, 104
39:6, 7, 9798
39:910, 103
39:920, 99, 103
39:11, 97
39:1116, 103
39:1120, 103
39:15, 97
39:1720, 103
39:21, 88 n.7, 9798
39:2124, 99, 103
39:2129, 103
39:2529, 99, 104
4047:12, 100
4048, 90, 99, 104,
108
44:7, 165 n.59
47:1348:34, 100
48:35, 100
Hosea
book, 145
2:1822, 159 n.41
2:21, 161 n.50
3:5, 159 n.41
5:10, 187 n.56
9:78, 19394
11:1, 161 n.50
14:69, 159 n.41
14:10, 132,
Joel
book, 145
1:6, 88 n.7
2:27, 88 n.7
4:921, 162 n.51
Amos
3:38, 131
9:1112, 135 n.12
9:1115, 159 n.41
Obadiah
book, 145, 159 n.41
20, 16566 n.61
Jonah
book, 145, 169
3:23, 169
Micah
book, 145
203

4:13, 159
4:14, 161 n.45, 162
4:2, 159
5:1, 159 n.41
5:14, 135 n.12
Nahum
book, 145, 169
2, 167 n.66
3:1a, 175
3:1b3, 175
3:4, 175
Habakkuk
book, 145
2:8, 173
Zephaniah
book, 145
1:15, 96, 100
2:415, 167 n.66
2:11, 159
2:1315, 167 n.66
3, 159 n.41
3:820, 162 n.51
Haggai
book, 145
1:14, 139 n.21
2:67, 162 n.51
2:78, 159, 161 n.45
2:2122, 156 n.33
Zechariah
book, 145
18, 145
1:817, 159
8:2022, 160
9:910, 162
9:10, 160
10:2022, 161 n.45
13:2, 181
13:26, 18081
14, 162 n.51
14:1, 162 n.52
Malachi
book, 145,
Psalms
2, 138 n.18
2:79, 141
12:34, 186
22:30, 160
25:14, 86
42:4, 131
68:30, 160
72, 138 n.18
78:810, 160
78:7172, 139 n.26,
157 n.34
89, 135
89:47, 135
89:2737, 134
91:3, 194 n.78
96:710, 160
97:67, 160
104:3, 96
110, 138 n.18
115:2, 131
137:89, 123
Proverbs
20:29, 132 n.7
24:16, 132 n.7,
Lamentations
4:20, 140 n.29
Daniel
7, 106
11, 186
11:21, 186
11:32, 186
11:34, 186
Ezra
1, 156 n.31
1:1, 138 n.19, 139
n.21
1:5, 139 n.21
4:3, 156 n.31
4:15, 136
6:910, 142
7:26, 124
Nehemiah
9:3637a, 125
1 Chronicles
3:19, 156 n.33
11:2, 139 n.26, 157
n.34
2 Chronicles
6:42, 134 n.10, 157
n.34
17:6, 157 n.34
35, 57, 58
35:2027, 13637
35:21, 59 n.33
35:2122, 58
35:22, 59 n.33
35:26, 60
36:22, 138 n.19, 139
n.21, 156 n.31
36:2223, 137
New Testament
Matthew
7:15, 182 n.39
24:11, 182 n.39
Mark
13:22, 182 n.39
Acts
5:3638, 181
13:6, 182
21:38, 181
2 Peter
2:1, 182 n.39
1 John
4:1, 182 n.39
Apocrypha,
Pseudepigrapha
1 Maccabees
2:2427, 177 n.21
204
9:22, 151 n.14

14:414, 151 n.14
16:23, 151 n.14,
Jubilees
30, 192 n.74
Psalms of Solomon
17, 193 n.76
Qumran
4QCurses, see 4Q280
4QInstruction, see
4Q416, 4Q418
4QInstruction-like
Composition B,
see 4Q424
4QList of False
Prophets, see 4Q339
4QTestimonia, see
4Q175
Apocryphon of Joshua,
see 4Q379
Community Rule, see
1QS
Damascus Document,
see 4Q172, 4Q266
(=4QDa), CD
Miqat Maase HaTorah, see 4QMMT
Moses Apocryphon, see
4Q375
Pesher Habakkuk, see
1QpHab
Pesher Nahum, see
4Q169
Pesher Psalms, see
4Q171
Thanksgiving Hymns,
see 1QHa
War Scroll, see 1QM,
4Q285, 4Q471,
4Q491496, 11Q14,
11QTa (=11Q19)
1QHa, 173, 183, 187
89
10:1216, 185
10:1317, 185
10:1415, 18485
10:16, 185
10:2029, 173
10:3132, 18485
12, 18586
12:5, 186
12:56, 184
12:58, 183
12:529, 183
12:6, 184
12:67, 183
12:7, 18486
12:8, 184
12:9, 184
12:910, 183
12:911, 173, 184
12:10, 18386
12:1112, 186
12:1213, 186
12:16, 18486
12:17, 18586
12:20, 183, 186
12:21, 18586
12:2122, 18687
12:2223, 184
12:23, 183
12:2729, 184
13:918, 173
14:2021, 177,
1QM, 177 n.20
1:12, 193
6:56, 178
11:67, 193 n.76
11:1314, 178,
1QpHab, 173
9:812, 173
10:9, 185
11:48, 173,
1QS, 177
9:2123, 177
10:17, 178
10:1719, 177,
4Q169, 17376, 185
34 i 2, 175
34 ii 2, 175
34 ii 36, 175
3-4 ii 4, 176
34 ii 810, 175,
4Q171, 173
110 i 2627, 185
110 iii 78, 173
110 iv 810, 173,
4Q172, 176,
4Q175, 173, 18996
18, 189
813, 189
1320, 189
1920, 192
2130, 18990
24, 19293
25, 192
2526, 190
27, 194
28, 194,
4Q266
1 ab 4, 187 n.56
2 i 19, 187 n.57,
4Q280
3 2, 187 n.56,
4Q285, 177 n.20,
4Q339, 180, 18283,
187, 189, 19597
1, 195
205

3, 182, 196
7, 196,
4Q379, 192
22 ii 714, 189, 190
n.67,
4Q416
2 iv 6, 187 n.56
4Q418
9 + 9a-c 7, 187 n.56,
4Q424
3 9, 187 n.56,
4Q475, 189,
4Q471, 177 n.20
1 2, 187 n.56,
4Q491496, 177 n.20,
4QMMT, 176
11Q14, 177 n.20
11QTa 54:818, 180,
Aramaic Levi 7879,
192n.74,
CD, 18788
1:1415, 185
1:16, 187
1:18, 188
5:20, 185 n.53, 188
5:206:1, 18788
5:206:2, 188
7:910, 178
7:1921, 193 n.76
8:3, 187 n.56
19:67, 178
19:1516, 187 n.56,
Texts from
Mesopotamia and
Anatolia
81-2-4 443, 46 n.57,
A. 1968, see FM 7 38,
AD 3 - 132 B, 73 n.26,
Alamdimm, 37,
ARM 26
194, 72 n.23
195: 57, 72 n.21
196, 7071 n.16, 72
n.24
196: 710, 74 n.31
196: 812, 72 n.21
197, 56 n.20, 72 n.23
197: 45, 74 n.31
198, 72 n.23
199, 56 n.20, 72
n.23, 82 n.64
199: 52b54, 72 n.21
200, 72 nn.2122
201, 74 n.31
202, 56 n.20, 75
202: 79, 72 n.21
206, 72 n.23, 74
206: 1316, 73
206: 2831, 74 n.31
206: 3234, 73, 74
208, 7071 n.16, 72
n.23
208: 78, 73
210, 72 n.23, 82 n.63
212: 710, 72 n.21
213, 72 n.22
213: 57, 72 n.21
214, 72 n.22
214: 57, 72 n.21
215, 72 n.22
215: 1516, 72 n.21
216, 73
217: 2728, 74 n.31
219, 72 n.22
219: 46, 72 n.21

220, 72 n.23
221, 72 n.23
233: 1416, 72 n.21
237: 2223, 72 n.21
243, 72 n.23
371: 916, 182073
414, 7273 n.23, 75
414: 3133, 75 n.37
469, 56 n.19
Aur A, see RINAP 4
57
Babylonian Theodicy,
58, 71 n.17, 8287,
256264
BAK
318, 46 n.56
519: 2627, 70
BBR
120: 18, 26, 119, 70
n.14
24: 38, 70 n.14
88, rev. 3, 70
Bisitun Inscription
I 77II 5, 142 n.35
IV 2829, 142 n.35
BM 50494, 46 n.56
BMes 2/1 1, 2, 5, 6, 7,
8, 9, 12, 15, 17, 18,
19, 21, 23b, 26a, 26b,
27a, 28a, 28b, 29b,
30a, 30b, 31a, 31b,
32ab, 34, 36, 39, 40,
41, 45, 46, 47, 50, 51,
5255, 57, 59, 60, 21
n.62
Catalogue of Texts
and Authors, 34
Chronicle of Early
Kings, 42
206
CT 20
21, 46 n.57
23, 46 n.57
25, 46 n.57
26, 46 n.57
2728, 46 n.57
28, 46 n.57
29, 46 n.57
CT 31
15, 46 n.56
3840, 46 n.57
CTH 423, 51 n.5
IV 6086, 101
IV 75, 101 n.65
IV 8384, 101
IV 85 V 62, 100
IV 8790, 102
IV 93104, 93
IV 101102, 102
IV 112, 103
V 7376, 103
V 7576, 103
VI, 100
VI 36, 104
VI 138, 104
VI 4579, 100
VI 8084, 93 n.25
Cyrus Cylinder, 138,

14042, 158
3233, 138 n.20
Erra and Ium, 91
DB 3233, 167 n.65
Etana Myth, 41
DE, 161 n.46
DZc, 161 n.46
FLP 1674, 6869, 70

71 n.16, 73
15, 69 n.12
17, 69 n.12
DT 47, 1819
47: 2732, 19
FM 6 18, 58
18: 1822, 58 n.30
Enki and the World

Order, 38 n.25
FM 7
1, 55
8, 55
8: 2529, 55
36, 5657
38, 5758, 72 n.23
39, 50, 57
39: 68, 73
39: 3445, 74 n.31
39: 4647, 6061, 73
DNa, 161 n.46
Enma Anu Enlil, 34,

37
Enma eli, 90, 9395,
9899, 101, 103,
106107
IV, 94, 100, 101 n.65
IV 58, 94
IV 30, 100
IV 3058, 100
IV 39, 100
IV 40, 101 n.65
IV 4258, 96
IV 45, 100
IV 49, 100
IV 5051, 101 n.65
IV 60, 102
Gilgame Epic, 41, 99

Great Star List, 236239, 20
Gudea Cylinder
A vii 4, 71 n.17
Hazor 17, 3637
HSM 7494: 1112, 39

n.30
K.2130, 43
K.3601+: 79, 18
K.3967, 46 n.57
K.7936: 79, 18
Ki.1904-10-9, 46 n.57
94, 70
Legend of
Enmeduranki, 34
Ludlul bl nmeqi
I 2932, 71 n.17
II 3338, 71 n.17
MUL.APIN, 1718
I iv, 27 n.80
ND 2632, see SAA 19
98
Prism B v 15vi 16,
7071 n.16
RA 35
no. 3, 36
no. 6, 36
RINAP 4 57, 1321,
24, 2730
i 310, 1415, 21
i 9, 15 n.37
i 1112, 17
i 11ii 2, 18, 19
i 11ii 13, 17
ii 16, 17
ii 56, 19
ii 67, 20
ii 611, 20, 27, 29
ii 1213, 14 n.35
ii 1426, 14 n.35
iii 42iv 6, 14 n.35
207

RM 2
134, 44, 45 n.51
455, 4445,
SAA 2
6 10, 7475 n.31,
81
SAA 3
13, 7071 n.16
SAA 8
15, 16
15: 61-, rev. 14,
16
23, 16 n.44
24: 17, 16
60: 4, 22
71, 26 n.97
82, 23 n.85, 26 n.97
91, 16 n.44
92, 16 n.44
102, 23 n.85
111, 23 n.85
114, rev. 3, 20
117, 23 n.85
134, 16 n.44
136, 16 n.44
173, 16 n.44
202, 16 n.44
203, 16 n.44
206, 26 n.97
288, 26 n.97
306, 16 n.44
307: 15, 23
307: 6, rev. 12, 23
316, rev. 1214, 24
n.69
316322, 24 n.69
320, 26 n.97
338: 7rev. 4, 77
342: 7rev. 2, 77
383: 16, 26
383: 710, rev. 1
42627
383, rev. 5, 20
383, rev. 58, 27

409, 1516
409: 14, 1516
491: 14, 28
491: 59, 28
491, rev. 712, 28
SAA 9
1, 75
1.1: 28, 73 n.25
2, 75
2.2: 35, 73 n.25
2.5 iii 2628, 57
n.24
3.2, 73
4, 75
7, 75
8, 75
9: 1621, 7071 n.16
10, 7475 n.31
11, 7475 n.31
SAA 10
7: 614, 77 n.45
24, 74 n.31, 82 nn.
6364
94, 16 n.44
105, 16 n.44
112, 24, 28
112: 47, 25
112: 21, 24
112: 2324, 25
125, 16 n.44
135, 16 n.44
351: 1923, 22
352, 74 n.31
352, rev. 12, 73
SAA 12
69, 7071 n.16
SAA 13
37, 74 n.31
37: 711, 72 n.21
139, 7071 n.16, 74
n.31
144, 74 n.31
148, 74 n.31
SAA 16
59, 74 n.31, 82
nn.6364
SAA 19
98, 6667 n.7
umma lu, 37
umma izbu, 37
VAS 10 213: 8, 130
n.2
Verse Account of
Nabonidus, 158
Weidner Chronicle,
42
XE, 161 n.46
YBT X
31 I 5ff., 40
42 I f5, 40
56 I 4041, 40
56 III 89, 40
West Semitic
Inscriptions
Baal Cycle, see KTU
1.11.6
KTU 1.11.6, 99, 104
KTU 1.3 iii 3638, 96
KTU 1.4 iii 1011, 17
18, 96
KTU 1.6 ii 357, 103
KTU 1.108: 7, 130 n.2,
Sefire A 1442, 61
n.39,
208
Texts from the

Classical World
(including Philo
and Josephus)
Euripides
Trojan Women 2527,
53 n.10,
Herodotus
Histories III.150160,
142 n.35,
Josephus
Antiquities
8.236, 182
8.242, 182 n.40
8.318, 182 n.40
8.402, 182 n.40
8.406, 182 n.40
8.409, 182 n.40
9.13337, 182 n.40
10.66, 182 n.40
10.104, 182 n.40
10.111, 182 n.40
11.32539, 157
n.37
13.25458, 192
n.75
13.27583, 192
13.28283, 191
13.299300191
13.32223, 191
13.37683, 173 n.6
20.9798, 181
20.167, 18182
20.16971, 181
Jewish War
1.6263, 192 n.75
1.6466, 192
1.6869, 191
1.9298, 173 n.6
2.258, 181
2.259, 18182
2.25963, 181
2.261, 181
4.155, 177 n.21
6.285, 181
Livy
ab urbe conduit 5.21
23, 52
Macrobius
Saturnalia
III.9.78, 5354
V.22.7, 53 n.10
Philo
Praem. 95, 193 n.76
Pliny
nat. hist. 28.1819,
52
Virgil
Aeneid 2.35152, 53
n.10
Xenophon
Oec. 4.14, 161 n.47
Rabbinic Texts and
Targumim
t.So. 13:5, 191
Neofiti
Num 24:17, 193 n.76
Onqelos
Num 24:17, 193 n.76
Pseudo-Jonathan
Num 24:17, 193 n.76
y.Taan. 4:6 68d, 193
n.76
Contributors
Ehud Ben Zvi is Professor, History and Classics, University of Alberta.
Joseph Blenkinsopp is John A. OBrien Professor Emeritus of Biblical Studies.
Jeffrey L. Cooley is Assistant Professor of Hebrew Bible in the Theology Department
of Boston College.
Gran Eidevall is Professor of Hebrew Bible at Uppsala University, Sweden.
Alex P. Jassen is Associate Professor of Hebrew and Judaic Studies in the Skirball
Department of Hebrew and Judaic Studies at New York University.
Alan Lenzi is Associate Professer of Religious and Classical Studies, University of the
Pacific (Stockton, CA).
Beate Pongratz-Leisten is Professor of Ancient Near Eastern Studies, Institute for
the Study of the Ancient World, New York University.
Jonathan Stkl is Lecturer in Hebrew Bible / Old Testament at the Department of
Theology and Religious Studies at Kings College London.
C. A. Strine is Vice-Chancellors Fellow at the Department of Biblical Studies, The
University of Sheffield.
209
The essays in this volume consider how the ancient imperial setting of the Hebrew
Bible influenced prophetic and divinatory communication between the divine
and human realms and how this was put to use as and influenced by propaganda
from those in power. Drawing upon diplomatic correspondence in second millennium B.C.E. Mari to the eschatological hopes expressed in the Dead Sea Scrolls,
the contributions indicate that all forms of prophetic and divinatory communication were used to both uphold and undermine their respective empires. The
analyses of the Hebrew Bible show that, while Israelite/Judahite texts attempt to
undermine the Neo-Babylonian and Neo-Assyrian Empires, they never openly
attack the Persian Empire. Further, the Israelite/Judahite thinkers never criticize
empire as such; to the contrary, they paint a picture in which a Jerusalem empire
will replace foreign ones.
Alan Lenzi is Associate Professor of Hebrew Bible and Ancient Near East at University
of the Pacific. He is the author of Secrecy and the Gods: Secret Knowledge in Ancient Mesopotamia and Biblical Israel (Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project), editor of Reading Akkadian
Prayers and Hymns: An Introduction (Society of Biblical Literature), and co-editor of Ludlul
bl nmeqi: The Standard Babylonian Poem of the Righteous Sufferer (The Neo-Assyrian
Text Corpus Project). Jonathan Stkl is Lecturer in Hebrew Bible/Old Testament at
Kings College London. He is the author of Prophecy in the Ancient Near East: A Philological
and Sociological Comparison (Brill) and co-editor of In the Name of God: The Bible in the
Colonial Discourse of Empire (Brill) and Prophets Male and Female: Gender and Prophecy in
the Hebrew Bible, the Eastern Mediterranean, and the Ancient Near East (Society of Biblical
Literature).
Ancient Near East Monographs

Monografas sobre el Antiguo Cercano Oriente
Centro de Estudios de Historia del Antiguo Oriente (UCA)
ISBN 978-1-58983-998-4
Available in paperback, ISBN 978-1-58983-996-0
Available in hardcover, ISBN 978-1-58983-997-7
Cover photo: Zev Radovan/BibleLandPictures.com

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What are the main topics discussed in the book?

What are the main topics discussed in the book?

What historical periods are covered in the analyses of the Hebrew Bible?

What historical periods are covered in the analyses of the Hebrew Bible?

DIVINATION,

POLITICS, & Ancient

Ancient Near East Monographs Monografas sobre el Antiguo Cercano Oriente

Divination, Politics, and

Ancient Near East Monographs

Divination, Politics, and

Society of Biblical Literature

Copyright 2014 by the Society of Biblical Literature

The Ancient Near East Monographs/Monografi as Sobre El Antiguo Cercano Oriente

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

1. Propaganda, Prognostication, and Planets

2. The King at the Crossroads between Divination and Cosmology

3. Divination as Warfare: The Use of Divination across Borders

4. Revisiting Biblical Prophecy, Revealed Knowledge Pertaining to Ritual,

5. Chaoskampf against Empire: YHWHs Battle against Gog (Ezekiel 3839) as

6. Propagandistic Constructions of Empires in the Book of Isaiah

7. The Theological Politics of Deutero-Isaiah

8. The Yehudite Collection of Prophetic Books and Imperial Contexts:

Index of Ancient Texts

Anchor Bible Commentary Series

DIVINATION, POLITICS, AND ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN EMPIRES

Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement Series

DIVINATION, POLITICS, AND ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN EMPIRES

State Archives of Assyria Bulletin

DIVINATION, POLITICS, AND ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN EMPIRES

JONATHAN STKL AND ALAN LENZI

pertaining to ritual by prophets in the Hebrew Bible.3 In his monograph, Lenzi

DIVINATION, POLITICS, AND ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN EMPIRES

JONATHAN STKL AND ALAN LENZI

INTRODUCTION: ON PROPAGANDA AND ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN STUDIES

DIVINATION, POLITICS, AND ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN EMPIRES

DIVINATION, POLITICS, AND ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN EMPIRES

DIVINATION, POLITICS, AND ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN EMPIRES

CELESTIAL DIVINATION IN THE NEO-ASSYRIAN ROYAL INSCRIPTIONS:

DIVINATION, POLITICS, AND ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN EMPIRES

[30 u d]UTU DINGIR.ME ma-u-te

In [order] to give the land and the

tice, the gods [Sn and] ama, the

DI ina UD.1.[KM IGI KA] GI.NA

M.SIG5 LUGAL be-l-ia

If (the moon) [becomes visible] on

DIVINATION, POLITICS, AND ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN EMPIRES

If on the 14th day the moon and

DI UD.15.[KM] d30 [u dUTU]

If on the 15th day the mo[on and

Venus, the brightest of the stars,

DIVINATION, POLITICS, AND ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN EMPIRES

DI muldil-bat ina KASKAL u-ut da-nim

DI muldil-bat ina KASKAL u-ut den-ll

If Venus becomes visible in the

[DI mu]ldil-bat KI ni-ir-ti KUR-ud SIG5

[DI mu]ldil-bat KI ni-ir-ti la KUR-ud-ma

[DI mu]ldil-bat ina imMAR.TU ITI-ma KI

DINGIR.ME KI kurMARki SILIM.MA

DINGIR.ME KI kurMARki i-ab-b[u-su]

[If] Venus reaches (her) secret