Zechariah 9-14 and Malachi (1995): A Commentary

INTRODUCTION

The last nine chapters of the Old Testament (or ten in most Christian English Bible translations, which follow the Septuagint’s enumeration) constitute arguably the most difficult texts for the interpreter of the Old Testament. Despite the presence of nations’ names (e.g., Zech. 9:1–7), there are no obvious or readily identifiable historical events that lie behind these texts. Moreover, there is no specific individual, like a Haggai or a Zechariah, to whom the literature may be attributed. No prophetic persona glimmers behind the oracles or other rhetorical units that make up these chapters. Finally, the literature itself (e.g., Zech. 11:4–16) is, quite simply, difficult to comprehend. The imagery appears complex, often impenetrable, leaving the reader with the sense that, although the chapters may be read in English translation, they remain incomprehensible. This commentary has as its essential purpose the attempt to make some sense of these ancient canonical texts.

The reader of the Hebrew Bible, whether in its Jewish, Protestant, or Roman Catholic configurations, should be alert to the difference between the traditional ways of labeling this literature and the mode used in this commentary. Medieval Jewish manuscripts as well as modern translations provide titles for the last two books in the canon, namely, the words Zechariah and Malachi before the chapters in question. As a result, it might seem indefensible to provide a commentary on only a portion of one of those books, especially at a time when sensitivities to the final or canonical form of the text have been raised. My approach might appear even more problematic since this commentary will not treat Malachi as a separate book authored by a prophet named Malachi. However, book titles are not used in the oldest Hebrew manuscripts, such as the Isaiah scroll at Qumran. Without such titles, what we know as Zechariah and Malachi would appear quite differently than they do now, especially if we imagine these chapters to be written together on one scroll, literally, one book of the twelve so-called minor prophets. Put another way, an early form of the minor prophets may not have known a separate book of Malachi. (Sirach 49:10 is the earliest reference to the Twelve Prophets and refers to its Septuagint configuration.) A more detailed examination of the literature in question sustains this hypothesis.

1. The Three maś’ôt

¹

We must begin with the chapters known as Zechariah. After the two regnal formulae (Zech. 1:1; 7:1), which mark Judean chronology with reference to the Persian emperor Darius and which belong to what I have elsewhere described as Zechariah I, the next set of stereotypic formulae that set off or segment the final portion of the minor prophets occurs in Zech. 9:1; 12:1; and Mal. 1:1. These formulae are not identical, for reasons offered below. Nonetheless, a straightforward look at the Hebrew text of these chapters, which have been organized using these formulae, does not make one think of two separate books, namely Zechariah as a book of fourteen chapters and Malachi as a book of three (or four) chapters. Nor does this formulaic organization suggest a twofold structure often presumed by the labels Deutero-Zechariah and Malachi. Rather, the formulae, as well as the material subsumed by them, point to a tripartite collection of prophetic literature.

Zechariah 9:1 through Malachi 3:24 [4:6] comprises three sections—Zech. 9:1–11:17; Zech. 12:1–14:21; and Mal. 1:1–3:24 [1:1–4:6]. Each section includes a roughly similar number of verses: forty-six, forty-four, and fifty-two verses (excluding 3:22–24 [4:4–6], on which see below). They are titled, respectively, an oracle: the word of the Lord against the land of Hadrach (Zech. 9:1); an oracle: the word of the Lord against Israel (Zech. 12:1); and an oracle: the word of the Lord to Israel (Mal. 1:1).² Both the number and the content of these formulae, as well as some of the material they subsume, present a structure apparent in other prophetic collections: oracles against the nations, oracles concerning Israel, and oracles on behalf of Israel (e.g., in Amos).³

There is more in these chapters than the notion of three maś’ôt would suggest. Malachi 3:22–24 [4:4–6] stands outside the tripartite structure I have just adumbrated. These three verses create an epilogue both to the three maś’ôt and to the minor prophets as a whole, an epilogue that integrates the minor prophets with the rest of the canon (see commentary). By providing such an epilogue, the author offered a claim that these books may be viewed as one book, similar in scope to the major prophet books, namely, Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel.

The presentation of Zech. 9:1–Mal. 3:24 [4:6] as three maś’ôt represents a Persian-period editor’s decision to integrate what was originally quite distinct material.⁴ There is discourse listed under the first rubric that is not an oracle against a nation (e.g., Zech. 10:1–2). And there are utterances in Malachi or the third maśśā’ (e.g., Mal. 2:10–16) that are not oracles of weal. Hence, one senses a certain tension between the final redactional structure and the nature of the earlier material.

If this notion of a controlling tripartite structure is apt, then we should think about these concluding chapters to the Hebrew Bible as anonymous collections of divine oracles and prophetic sayings. However, since these collections follow immediately after the book attributed to him, Zechariah ben Berechiah (Zech. 1:1) becomes the canonical author of this material. Only later in the formation of the canon did another canonical author, someone named Malachi, arise (see below).

2. Historical Context

One hallmark of twentieth-century biblical scholarship has been the attempt to discern the original context in which a text was produced, and with good reason. To know something about the events and conditions that elicited a prophetic oracle enables the reader or hearer to understand something of its rhetorical force (e.g., Amos 4:1–3 and its mid-eighth-century B.C.E. context). However, some biblical literature provides little internal evidence that allows judgments of this sort (e.g., many psalms). Nonetheless, attention to form, redaction, literary features, and religious issues enables the commentator to assist the reader in understanding individual psalms.

The three oracles are more like Psalms than they are like Amos to the extent that they provide little internal evidence concerning the date of composition. Moreover, the search for the date of composition for these three maś’ôt has produced diverse results. Nonetheless, many scholars now agree that the third maśśā’, Malachi, derives from the early-middle Persian period. There is much less of a consensus regarding the origins of Zechariah 9–14. Nonetheless, in my judgment, all three maś’ôt date to the Persian period, though the evidence is stronger for Malachi than it is for Zechariah 9–11 or Zechariah 12–14.

Three important studies devoted to Zechariah illustrate the diverse chronological (and literary) judgments concerning these chapters.⁵ In an influential article that helped inaugurate ZAW, Bernhard Stade maintained that all of Zechariah 9–14 should be dated to the Hellenistic period.⁶ He had discerned numerous instances in which these chapters depended on earlier prophetic texts. In addition, he argued that the reference to Greeks (Zech. 9:13) alluded to the period during which Greek control was being exercised in Syria-Palestine. Moreover, he construed nations’ names in such a way that Egypt became a way of referring to the Ptolemaic kingdom and Assyria to Seleucid rule. Similarly, he maintained that Zech. 9:1–8 referred to military activity that took place c.306–278 B.C.E. Since Stade’s time, attempts to place Zechariah 9–14 in a Hellenistic context have not ceased.⁷

Benedikt Otzen adopted a significantly different tack. He maintained that Zechariah 9–14 is not a literary unity. Moreover, he argued that, on both literary and historical grounds, the constituent units derive from quite different periods: Zechariah 9–10 dates to the Josianic era (c.620 B.C.E.); Zechariah 11 to just before 587 B.C.E.; Zechariah 12–13 to the early exilic period; and Zechariah 14 to the late postexilic period.⁸

Paul Hanson formulated a third line of approach. He reviewed such attempts at establishing a date by means of references outside the literature and found them fundamentally flawed. Instead, he attempted to set up a relative chronology based on formal features of the literature as well as on ideological relations to other Persian-period prophetic literature (e.g., Isaiah 56–66). In addition, Hanson offered a traditio-historical judgment that these texts belong to a transition literature, something between prophetic and apocalyptic literature. In so doing he, like Otzen, postulated different periods of origin for these chapters, but Hanson offered a more compact time frame (roughly 550–425 B.C.E.), the early Persian period.⁹ Such a dating in the early to middle Persian period has won some adherents (e.g., Lacocque).¹⁰

In my judgment, the last of these dating schemes, though not necessarily the method, should be sustained. The numerous allusions to sixth-century biblical texts,¹¹ the character of the language,¹² and allusions to Achaemenid imperial structures (see commentary on Zech. 9:1–8) require dating Zechariah 9–14 to the Persian period. To make this judgment is, however, different from arguing that a particular oracle may be associated with a known event during that period. In no instance is such an identification proposed in this commentary.

Scholars have been much less reluctant to propose a date for Malachi than they have for Zechariah 9–14. However, it must be said that one may read the book and make sense of much of what is said without appeal to a specific historical context (e.g., the critique of Asherah veneration in Mal. 2:10–16). The sole worship of Yahweh was an issue at many times in Israel’s history, a fact that makes this pericope intelligible even without specific comment about its date. Nonetheless, considerable evidence allows one to place this third oracle in the Persian period.

Many scholars have argued that Malachi most probably postdates the rebuilding of the second temple and predates the activity of Ezra and Nehemiah. A striking number of issues addressed in the third oracle are broached in Ezra-Nehemiah as well. For example, concern for proper ritual behavior appears in both Malachi and Ezra-Nehemiah (Neh. 8:13–18; 13:15–18). The need for both a purified priesthood and a recognized place for the Levites is attested in Malachi and in Neh. 13:28–30. And both literatures devote attention to the practice of tithing, Mal. 3:6–12 and Neh. 13:10–14.

There are other forms of evidence as well. The author of Malachi refers to the peḥāh, governor (Mal. 1:8), which was the term used for the ruling regional official during the Persian period. The prominence of Edom in the first diatribe would fit with what we know of the territory known as Edom during the early Persian period (see commentary below).¹³ Finally, Hill has argued that the grammar of Malachi stands between classical and late Biblical Hebrew prose, thereby allowing for a date of composition in the late sixth or early fifth century B.C.E.¹⁴ For these sorts of reasons, namely, correlations with Ezra-Nehemiah, apparent rootedness in Persian-period Judah, the character of the language in which the third oracle is composed, Malachi has been regularly dated to the late sixth or early fifth century B.C.E., a judgment with which I concur.¹⁵

In sum, it is reasonable to hypothesize that all three maś’ôt derive from the Persian period. Hence, one must devote some attention to that period and the issues it posed for those who venerated Yahweh as their God.

3. Persian-Period Yahwism

By the mid-sixth century B.C.E., Yahwists were scattered throughout the regions we now describe as the eastern Mediterranean and the ancient Near East. Yahwists lived on Cyprus, in Egypt, in Mesopotamia, in Syro-Palestinian areas other than Judah (so the Tell el-Mazar inscriptions), and, of course, in the subprovince of Judah or Judea. Yahwism or early Judaism was becoming a truly international religion.

To speak about second temple Yahwism or early Judaism risks imposing a monolithic label on what was a very diverse set of communities and practices. Yahwists worshiped in diverse settings and at multiple shrines. Moreover, certain norms of early Judaism, which may be associated with the activities of Ezra and Nehemiah, had not yet developed. There were, of course, those who gathered around the newly built temple in Jerusalem. But even there, Yahwists disagreed among themselves about the nature of the community that had arisen in the Judean subprovince of the Beyond the River satrapy (the river is the Euphrates and Beyond means west of that river). There was, for example, conflict about who would be eligible to participate in and officiate at temple rituals. And then, there were other Yahwists in Syria-Palestine, such as those who lived in and worshiped at Samaria and about whom we hear in Ezra-Nehemiah. Even within Syria-Palestine, there was no uniform Yahwism.

Indicative of such variety is the presence of multiple temples devoted to Yahweh. Apart from the newly rebuilt structure in Jerusalem, the best-known temple is the one erected in Elephantine. In addition, there were other temples in Syria-Palestine. Stern reports that three structures have been identified by their excavators as temples.¹⁶ About the one at Jaffa, there is no published material. Another coastal site, Makmish, to the north of Joppa, apparently housed a temple of the broad room variety (15 by 5 meters). Inland, there may have been a Persian-period temple at Lachish (Tell ed-Duweir), which would have been located in Idumaea, outside the subprovince of Judah. The excavator thought the orientation of the temple suggested veneration of the sun, hence the phrase solar shrine. Though such a judgment appears highly speculative, it remains important to note that the shrine was located near and apparently contemporary with the residency, a rather large structure with atrium and living quarters, which was almost certainly an administrative center and would have been in the hands of local officials.¹⁷ The occupation of the residency has been dated to c.450–350 B.C.E. In fact, at the Lachish shrine, an amulet, probably of Horus, was found along with a limestone altar that had raised carvings.¹⁸ Of course, one may not be certain that any of these ritual sites, apart from the one at Elephantine, was devoted to the veneration of Yahweh. However, an incense altar from Lachish inscribed with the letters lyh, part of Deposit 534 and roughly contemporary with the shrine, indicates that Yahweh was probably worshiped there.¹⁹ These various forms of evidence suggest that the very notion of second temple Yahwism—whether in the Levant or beyond—is itself something of a misnomer. Second temples Yahwism, despite the infelicitous ring, might be better.

The Elephantine texts illumine a community that calls itself yhwdya, which is often translated Jews, but could probably better be rendered Judeans. At the aforementioned temple, they venerated yhw, a shortened form for the name of Yahweh, as well as other deities (Anath, Bethel, Ishum, Herem). On the basis of the recently published Kuntilet Ajrud inscriptions, which apparently refer to Yahweh and his Asherah, as well as Mal. 2:13–16, which in my judgment is an attack on the veneration of Asherah (see commentary), it is appropriate to view Elephantine practice as consistent with Yahwism as it was known in Syria-Palestine and not as a heterodox development peculiar to the diaspora. Jeremiah 44 suggests that such practice developed almost immediately after a group of refugees had settled in Egypt. They viewed their sacrifices to the queen of heaven as consistent with earlier forms of Yahwism (Jer. 44:17).

The Yahwistic mercenaries at Elephantine built a temple even before the temple in Jerusalem had been rebuilt and instituted a round of sacrificial offerings (so CAP 30). This last mentioned letter, which dates to the last decade of the fifth century B.C.E., is of particular interest since it was addressed to Bigwahu, governor of Judah. In it the head of the Jewish community, Yedoniah, who was probably both a religious and a civil leader, mentions that he has been in contact with other provincial authorities, namely, those in Samaria, as well as with apparently lesser religious authorities in Jerusalem. The letter reports that the Elephantine temple has been destroyed. This explains why Yedoniah was seeking support for the reconstruction of the temple. It may be that Yedoniah knew that Persian authorities had, at an earlier time, been directed to assist in the reconstruction of the Jerusalem temple, and now he wanted similar forms of help. Bigwahu’s response, namely, that those in Egypt should rebuild the temple, is contained in CAP 32.

The overall picture presented by the Elephantine materials is important for our purposes since it indicates clearly that Yahwists in Syria-Palestine were in contact with Yahwists elsewhere and did not reject their practices out of hand, even if they worshiped at a temple other than the one in Jerusalem. In his letter, Hananiah advocates certain passover practices and provides evidence of this tacit approval.

It is noteworthy that a poet-prophet living in the Babylonian exile knew about the Yahwists near Elephantine, namely, in a town on the riverbank named Syene (Elephantine is on an island in the middle of the river), and that he looked forward to their return to the land (Isa. 49:12; cf. Ezek. 30:6). Isaiah 19:19–22 provides an interesting counterpoise. Here, in the Isaianic oracles against the nations, we find a prophet saying, the Lord will make himself known to the Egyptians; and the Egyptians will know the Lord on that day, and will worship with sacrifice and burnt offering, and they will make vows to the Lord and perform them (Isa. 19:21). One has the impression of a ritual that, if understood as occurring in Egypt and not as part of the pilgrimage of the nations to Jerusalem tradition, would require a temple. Would the author of this text have had the Elephantine temple in mind? There is no obvious answer. In any case, the Elephantine evidence points to the international character of Yahwism and suggests the reason why the family of Egypt comes in for special mention in Zech. 14:18–19.

During this period when Yahwism became Judaism, prophets were not present in all places. After the rebuilding of the temple in Jerusalem (the second temple was dedicated in 515 B.C.E.), there is no evidence of prophetic literature written outside Syria-Palestine. Moreover, we do not hear about Yahwistic prophetic activity outside the Levant. Put another way, after the work of Ezekiel and Deutero-Isaiah, Yahwists reported that prophetic intermediation occurred only in Syria-Palestine. Zechariah 9–14 and Malachi belong to this florescence of prophetic literature written in Persian-period Syria-Palestine. Though there is no strong scholarly consensus on what constitutes the postexilic prophetic corpus, one could add Isaiah 56–66, Joel, and perhaps Jonah to the list. At least this is sure: literature that fits our definition of prophetic literature was being composed well into the second temple period.

These exemplars of prophetic literature do not exhaust all evidence of prophetic activity in the early second temple period. Chronicles, also written in the Persian period, attests to another notion of prophetic behavior, that associated with Levitical singers.²⁰ Some Judahites in the early second temple period thought that the musical activities of Levites could be construed as of a piece with earlier prophetic activity (e.g., 1 Chron. 25:1; 2 Chron. 20:1–30; 2 Chronicles 29). Such claims, no doubt, created the sort of controversy reflected in Zech. 13:2–6. In sum, Persian-period Yahwism was a diverse business; and such diversity played itself out in multiple conceptions of what constituted prophetic activity.

4. The Persian Period

The International Scene

The term Persian period is misleading, if it is understood to mean that the only major actors in the eastern Mediterranean region were the Achaemenid Persians.²¹ Egypt, though a shadow of its former imperial glory, still had an army and exercised influence over the southern Levant. In addition, the Greek states were increasingly prominent as traders and as a military enterprise on the northern and central Levantine coast. Such Egyptian and Greek presence does not contradict the fact that the Persians had conquered or, perhaps better, dominated those territories that had earlier been under Neo-Babylonian control. But the term Persian period recognizes that Syria-Palestine was still very much a crossroads environ and subject to diverse cultural and political influences, as it had been in earlier times.

The fifth century B.C.E. began with the Persian empire, including Egypt, under Darius’s firm control.²² However, things were not to continue calmly, particularly in matters that involved Egypt. A pattern well known in earlier ancient Near Eastern history recurred when Darius died in 486: Vassal states at the boundaries of an empire rebelled at the accession of a new king. In this case, Egypt sat on the western imperial perimeter. Though there was no identifiable pharaonic instigator, Egypt revolted, as it had when Darius acceded to the throne. Nonetheless, early in his reign Xerxes was able to reinstitute Persian control over Egypt. To accomplish this feat, he needed to cross through the Levant, the security of which would have been very important for the Persian imperial cause.

The second Egyptian revolt, c.464 B.C.E., which enjoyed the help of the Athenian navy, presented Artaxerxes I Longimanus (464–424) with his first opportunity to confront the emergent Greek threat to the Persian empire.²³ (Earlier, both Darius [at Marathon in 490] and Xerxes [at Thermopylae and Salamis, c.480–479] had also fought the Greeks; but this Egyptian revolt was the first occasion when the Greeks fought on soil that Persia had claimed as part of its empire.) The revolt, led by Inaros and then in a different phase by Amyrtaeus, was put down only after Megabyzos, a Persian military leader, recaptured Memphis, the satrapal seat, and managed to defeat two separate components of the Athenian navy. Portions of this conflict probably extended up the Levantine coast. By 454 the revolt had been put down, but again Syria-Palestine had suffered the march of Persian troops on their way to Egypt. Hoglund has argued that those troops, which had supported the Athenian alliance, would have attacked Dor.²⁴

The peace of Callias, 449–448, which was struck between the Athenians and Artaxerxes I (whether or not as a formal treaty remains debated), was supposed to create a thirty-year period of nonintervention by the Greeks in the Persian sphere of influence, including Egypt and Cyprus. This détente was reasonably successful—in part because of the severity of Greek losses in Egypt. One may therefore judge that the first half of the fifth century B.C.E. was considerably more tumultuous for Syria-Palestine than was the second.

Although Egypt was important to the international picture of the Persian period, there is no evidence that Egyptian forces entered Syria-Palestine. Judah, however, felt the effect of Egyptian revolts, since Persians would pass through its territory on the way to Egypt. One can understand why the Persians wanted stable and secure conditions in the Levant from which to stage campaigns against Egypt and also against the Greeks who would appear on the Palestinian coast.

It would be a significant error to think that the relationship between the Persians and the Greeks was only one of military antagonism. Early on, the Persians welcomed Greeks in their homeland. Achaemenid art and architecture were influenced significantly by things Greek, that is, by Greek models and craftsmen. The phrase things Greek is appropriate in expressing the notion of diversity, since Greece itself was no monolithic entity but instead comprised a number of cities that shared certain cultural features. Athens and, later, Sparta were in the lead positions.

Goods imported from various regions of Greece appeared in Syria-Palestine as early as the seventh century.²⁵ In the Iron Age, most Greek ceramic imports came from the islands of the Aegean. However, early in the Persian period, there was a major change: Imports from Attica, the mainland region around Athens, dominated the import market. Such ware is attested not only in coastal towns but far inland as well. Though some scholars have suggested that these ceramics were imported as containers, more have argued that the pottery itself was the commodity. Such evidence will have to remain indicative; that is, it attests to the important economic interplay between the northern and eastern Mediterranean areas during the Persian period. Greece and Israel were not strangers at the beginning of the Persian period.

To the east, relations between Babylon and its Persian overlords ruptured because of two revolts between 485 and 480 led by Bel-shimanni and Shamash-eriba, respectively.²⁶ The Persians, again with Megabyzos at the lead, were able to defeat the dissidents, with the result that Babylon was finally separated from Beyond the River and treated as a separate satrapy.

In sum, during the early Persian period, military conflict on the western flank of the Achaemenid empire provided strong reasons for its leaders to be interested in secure rule over the diverse peoples of the Levant.

Syria-Palestine

It is a commonplace to begin any discussion of Persian-period Syro-Palestinian literature and history with disclaimers about the lack of evidence concerning this era.²⁷ To a certain extent, this apology remains in order. However, the problem is no more severe than it is for the period of the exodus, and less severe than that for the so-called patriarchal period. The books of Ezra-Nehemiah and Chronicles stem from the Persian period and reflect some of the issues with which Yahwists who were in the land grappled. Moreover, extrabiblical evidence, both literary and artifactual, helps us understand the world in which Syro-Palestinian Yahwists lived.²⁸

One must first be clear about the way in which Judah, and for that matter Syria-Palestine, fit administratively in the Persian empire. With the inception of Cyrus’s reign, Syria-Palestine was part of the huge satrapy that included both Babylonia (babili) and Syria-Palestine (ebir nari) (their Akkadian names). These subsidiary units corresponded, essentially, to earlier political configurations, namely, the native lands of Babylon and the agglomeration of territories in Syria-Palestine, which had been conquered by the Neo-Assyrians and the Neo-Babylonians in turn. Later, these two quite distinct regions were separated, each becoming a satrapy in its own right. However, there is considerable debate about the date when this division took place.²⁹ Stolper correctly notes that the extent to which this huge satrapy ever functioned as an integral unit is open to question.

Abar nahara, the Aramaic title for Beyond the River, was subdivided into a number of provinces (e.g., Samaria).³⁰ It is difficult to discern one city from which this abar nahara was ruled. Cook suggests that the following cities all had some claim to prominence: Sidon, Tripoli, Damascus, Askalon, Belesys (Eph‘al adds Thapsacus to the list).³¹ Though our inability to identify the satrapal seat is frustrating, the relative importance of a number of cities may reflect the actual workings of the Persian empire. The lines of administrative communication between the subprovinces and the major centers did not always pass through the bureaucratic structures as one might expect. The network of scribes and other minor officials worked out administrative issues without going through all the provincial channels. For example, a relatively low-level scribe or chancellor could be in direct contact with the imperial authorities.³²

Beyond the River was made up of diverse entities, that is, various religions, ethnic groups, and economies. Eph‘al has characterized the political variety as threefold (if one excludes the island Cyprus), namely, the Phoenician city states, the provinces and the Arabs.³³ The four Phoenician states—Tyre, Sidon, Byblos, and Aradus—remained important as economic centers and gained import as the naval arm of the Persian military establishment, so much so that they exercised considerable independence, both militarily and economically. The provinces, too, though not offering military technology, were important economically to the empire, providing taxes, material goods, and means of communication.³⁴ Judah belonged in this sphere.

Whether all the Syria-Palestinian satrapy was divided into provinces is a matter of considerable debate. One often reads about certain territories associated with governors’ names, Sanballat with Samaria, Nehemiah with Judah, Tobiah with Ammon, Geshem with Kedar. Avi-Yonah represents the standard consensus by arguing for the existence of other provinces, based on the references to the Arabians, Ammonites, and Ashdodites (Neh. 4:7).³⁵ To this list he adds Idumea, which was south of Judah; Galilee, which lay north of Samaria; territory controlled by either Tyre or Sidon; and two transjordanian provinces north of Ammon: Gilead and Karnaim. Eph‘al, however, thinks that the existence of provinces other than Judah and Samaria remains to be demonstrated.³⁶

Some provinces in abar nahara were created as early as the Neo-Assyrian administration of this same region. However, the status of Judah or Judea in the fifth and fourth centuries remains ambiguous. On the one hand, some scholars (e.g., Alt, Galling, Stern, McEvenue, and apparently Ackroyd) have argued that Nebuchadnezzar joined Judah to the province of Samaria after the defeat of 587 and that the Persians subsequently continued to administer it through the provincial offices of Samaria. Only with Nehemiah, who is titled governor of Judah, is there reason to think about Judah as a separate district, namely, a province. On the other hand, some (M. Smith, Avigad, Rainey, Widengren, Meyers, Eph‘al, and most recently Blenkinsopp³⁷) have argued that since certain officials titled peḥāh predate Nehemiah (Neh. 5:15, the former governors who were before me, e.g., Zerubbabel or the debated pḥt or pḥr Elnathan, whom Meyers dates to 510–c.490),³⁸ Judah must have had provincial status in the late sixth century.³⁹ Even if the just-mentioned seals do read governor (pḥt), there is considerable debate about their date. Avigad views them as deriving from the sixth century, Stern from the fifth. This is a critical difference, because few would deny that Judah had provincial status by the end of the fifth century, but not all would agree that such is the case c.500. Avigad and Meyers also presume that various references to a governor must refer to the same office. However, administrative titles were used with remarkable flexibility in the Persian system. For example, the term governor, peḥāh, was used of both Ushtani and Tattenai, who clearly had different roles.⁴⁰ All this suggests that Judah probably became a province separate from Samaria in the mid-fifth century and as a function of the Persian response to the Egyptian revolts during that period.⁴¹

There were several important cities in Judah during the early Persian period.⁴² Jerusalem was the ritual center, particularly after the temple had been rebuilt. But, especially prior to the time of Nehemiah, it is not clear that Jerusalem was the most important political site. Interpreters often assume that Jerusalem was the major city or capital of Judah, whatever its status or boundaries. Such was not the case, however, immediately after the defeat of Judah in 587. Jeremiah 40–41 reports that Nebuchadnezzar had appointed Gedaliah son of Ahikam governor over the land (Jer. 41:18) and governor of the towns of Judah (Jer. 40:5), and that Gedaliah exercised authority from Mizpah (Jer. 40:8).⁴³ (The biblical author uses no specific title to describe that administrative role.) This city, roughly twelve kilometers from Jerusalem, has been identified as Tell en Nasbeh. Excavations at that site reveal evidence of Persian-period occupation. Mizpah continued as a city well into the Persian period, at least until the beginning of the fourth century, though there is no explicit evidence that it retained status as the seat of an official after the Persians assumed control of Syria-Palestine.⁴⁴ The excavators reported few significant architectural remains, though there was evidence for some form of city wall.⁴⁵

Mizpah could, therefore, have borne the importance implied by Neh. 3:7, with the people of Gibeon and of Mizpah—who were under the jurisdiction of the governor of the province Beyond the River. This note, along with the prominence of Mizpah as a district (Neh. 3:15, 19); and the remarkable absence of Mizpah from the village list (Neh. 11:25–36), suggests that this city had special status, first for the Neo-Babylonians and then for Persian authorities, during both the sixth and the fifth centuries.⁴⁶ (And 1 Macc. 3:46–56 suggests that it remained important, at least as a religious site, after that.) One would be hard pressed to defend the note in Neh. 3:7 as a comment about Mizpah’s significance if it were important just as the lead city in one of the districts.

Since Judah did eventually become an independent province, whether in the sixth or the fifth century, it is appropriate to attempt to discern its boundaries. As Avi-Yonah notes, the most pertinent information relevant to this task is located in Ezra-Nehemiah, namely, in various lists.⁴⁷ The most important list details those who helped rebuild Jerusalem’s wall (Neh. 3:2–27).⁴⁸ This list identifies those who worked by referring to the city (e.g., Tekoa, Neh. 3:5) or region (e.g., the surrounding area, Neh. 3:22) in which they lived. If one draws a boundary around the cities or regions mentioned there and supplements that listing with the tabulations describing those Judeans who had returned from captivity (Ezra 2:21–34; Neh. 7:26–37), though not the list in Nehemiah 11, then one can create a map of the province known as Judah.⁴⁹ However, judging from the archaeological evidence of this region, Judah was, in fact, smaller than these lists would suggest. Carter has argued that the boundaries included the central hill country but not the coastal plain. Moreover, he estimates that the total population would have been less than 20,000 inhabitants, with perhaps