Mohr Siebeck Volume 1 2012

Moses 1 David M. Carr Volume 1 The Moses Story: Literary Historical Reflections 7–36 2012 Erhard Blum Der historische Mose und die Frühgeschichte Israels 37–63 Thomas Römer Tracking Some “Censored” Moses Traditions Inside and Outside the Hebrew Bible 64–76 James Kugel The Figure of Moses in Jubilees 77–92 Carl S. Ehrlich “Noughty” Moses: A Decade of Moses Scholarship 2000–2010 93–110

New Projects Jens Kamlah, Neuere Forschungen zur Archä ologie in Sü dphö nizien 113–132 Israel Finkelstein et al., Reconstructing Ancient Israel: Integrating Macro- and Micro-archaeology 133–150

Mohr Siebeck Editorial Introduction

Hebrew Bible and Ancient Israel is a new journal focusing on the Hebrew Bible and its historical contexts, the history of Israel, as well as the methods by which these are studied. In an era in which a proliferation of meet- ings and media encourages the dissemination of new information but also makes such information diffuse and difficult to put in context, a real need exists for a forum in which the state of research on current issues can be examined and evaluated to foster scholarly dialogue and enhance future scholarship. Moreover, despite the increasingly international scope of biblical studies, various factors of language, economics, and academic culture continue to reinforce tendencies toward patrochialism and compartmen- talization of knowledge. Thus, a variety of conversations about common topics often coexist side by side without interacting in substantial fashion. Hebrew Bible and Ancient Israel seeks to address both of these phenomena by providing a context in which scholars from different academic cultures will be intentionally brought together to examine substantial questions of common academic interest. Hebrew Bible and Ancient Israel is a peer-reviewed, quarterly journal of approximately 512 pages per year, published in both print and electronic forms. Each issue has a topical focus and consists of three to five invited articles, framed by an editorial introduction and an article that reviews recent literature on the topic in question. Although the primary language of He- brew Bible and Ancient Israel is English, articles may also be published in German and French. As the title Hebrew Bible and Ancient Israel suggests, the journal focuses primarily on the biblical texts in their ancient historical contexts, that is to say, on issues pertaining to the study of the Hebrew Bible and ancient Israel in the first millennium B.C.E. This scope includes matters pertaining to the origins of ancient Israel as well as to issues related to the development and reception of the Hebrew Bible in the Second Temple period. Methodological issues (e. g., the relation between archaeology and textual evidence, historiography, social scientific modeling) are also within the journal’s concerns.

HeBAI 1 (2012), 1–2 ISSN 2192-2276 © 2012 Mohr Siebeck 2 Editorial Introduction Hebrew Bible and Ancient Israel also regularly includes features on “New Findings” and “New Projects” to inform readers about new developments in the field of archeology and to present major new initiatives in the discipline. Editorial oversight for the journal is provided by four editors (Gary N. Knoppers, Oded Lipschits, Carol A. Newsom, and Konrad Schmid), assisted by a team of ten associate editors who represent a breadth of academic cultures and expertise. Each topical issue is planned by one of the members of the editorial team or by a guest editor. Suggestions for future issues are invited from the readers of the journal. Zum Programm der Zeitschrift

Hebrew Bible and Ancient Israel ist eine neue Zeitschrift zum Thema der Hebraïschen Bibel und ihren historischen Kontexten, der Geschichte Isra- els sowie zu den entsprechenden methodologischen Fragen. Die gegenwa¨rtige akademische Landschaft ist von einer Vielzahl von Kongressen und Publikationsmedien gepra¨gt, gleichzeitig bleibt aber eine verla¨ssliche Vermittlung von Forschungsergebnissen eine besta¨ndige Auf- gabe der Wissenschaft, der sich die neue Zeitschrift annehmen will. Obwohl die Bibelwissenschaften in den vergangenen Jahrzehnten eine mehr und mehr internationale Ausrichtung gewonnen haben, sind doch viele Beitra¨ge nach wie vor ihren eigenen, lokal gepra¨gten akademischen Kulturen verhaftet. Eine substantielle Interaktion zwischen diesen Kultu- ren findet nur in unzureichender Weise statt. Auch zu diesem Problem will Hebrew Bible and Ancient Israel einen Beitrag leisten: Die Zeitschrift wird darauf achten, dass die thematischen Hefte jeweils die verschiedenen Zugangsweisen und Referenzrahmen der unterschiedlichen Forschungs- raüme beru¨cksichtigen. Hebrew Bible and Ancient Israel erscheint viermal ja¨hrlich in gedruckter und elektronischer Form mit einem Umfang von ca. 512 Seiten pro Jahr. Die Beitra¨ge werden durch einen Peer-review-Prozess evaluiert. Jedes Heft besitzt einen thematischen Fokus und umfasst neben einer Einleitung und einem U¨ bersichtsartikel zu neuerer Forschungsliteratur zum Thema ca. 3– 5 weitere Aufsa¨tze. Die meisten Beitra¨ge werden in Englisch verfasst sein, Artikel ko¨nnen aber auch auf Deutsch oder Franzo¨sisch erscheinen. Entsprechend dem Titel Hebrew Bible and Ancient Israel bescha¨ftigt sich die Zeitschrift mit Themen der Hebraïschen Bibel und des antiken Israel, die das 1. Jahrtausend v. Chr. betreffen. Sie schließt also sowohl historische Probleme des antiken Israel wie auch literarische Fragen der Hebraïschen Bibel mit ein, diskutiert aber auch methodologische Pro- bleme, wie etwa das Verha¨ltnis von Archaölogie und Text, Probleme antiker Geschichtsschreibung oder Fragen sozialgeschichtlicher Interpreta- tionen.

HeBAI 1 (2012), 3–4 ISSN 2192-2276 © 2012 Mohr Siebeck 4 Zum Programm der Zeitschrift Die Zeitschrift wird auch regelma¨ßig u¨ber neue archa¨ologische Funde und neue Projekte im Rahmen der Disziplin informieren. Die Zeitschrift wird von vier Herausgebern betreut (Gary N. Knoppers, Oded Lipschits, Carol A. Newsom und Konrad Schmid), die von einem internationalen Kreis von Forschern mit unterschiedlichen fachlichen Spezialisierungen beraten werden. Jede thematische Nummer wird entweder von einem Mitglied des erweiterten Herausgeberkreises oder einem Gastherausgeber inhaltlich und redaktionell betreut. Thematische Anre- gungen fu¨r ku¨nftige Nummern werden gerne entgegen genommen. Konrad Schmid

Editorial

“Moses” presents an obvious though difficult topic for the opening volume of anew journal on “Hebrew Bible.” On the one hand, Moses is the most prominent character of the most important part of the canon of the Hebrew Bible and, in recent decades, he has received attention beyond the boundaries of biblical studies. On the other hand, literary and historical investigations into this personality combine the well-known difficulties of modern biblical studies in paradigmatic fashion: an amicably-wrought solution remains distant for the problem of the historical composition of the Pentateuch, even though the international discussions of these questions are more closely linked than was ever the case in the past century.1 The Documentary Hypothesis, which continues to enjoy strong support in English-speaking scholarship, interprets the Moses narrative first and foremost in relation to Genesis, while German- speaking scholarship – and also a significant number of scholars outside this region – often reckons with an independent Moses story. In this view, the narrative was then only connected to the ancestor traditions in Genesis at a comparatively later date. David Carr does not draw upon a preset particular model or theoretical position in his approach to the composition-historical problems of the Moses tradition on display in this volume. He instead attempts to reconstruct the Moses tradition thematically, determining its major stages by way of comparison with the Moses tradition in Deuteronomy. The study shows that the narrative’s original independence remains observable even in later redactional stages, including those that took place long after the Moses narrative had become part of the larger fabric of the historical books. While some agreement exists about Moses’ historical reality, clarifying the historical roots of the Moses figure in the biblical narratives appears even more intractable than answering the composition questions. Recognizing the mythical character of the traditions of Israel’s origins found in the Pentateuch has led to an increasingly nuanced view of the historical background of the Moses and exodus traditions alike. This background is indeterminable by way of “rationalistic reductions” of the biblical texts. Instead, interpreters must ad-

1 Cf. T.B. Dozeman et al., ed., The Pentateuch. International Perspectives on Current Re- search (FAT 78; Tu¨bingen: Mohr, 2011).

HeBAI 1 (2012), 5–6 ISSN 2192-2276 © 2012 Mohr Siebeck 6 Konrad Schmid dress the various historical situations and memories that the exodus narrative blends together into its integrated narrative. The contribution by Erhard Blum in this volume first presents in brief the current state of scholarship and then proceeds to develop his own well-balanced and well-refined view of the question of the historical Moses in the context of Israel’s early history. The difficulties of the compositional and historical evaluation of the Moses figure have increased scholarly attentiveness to the notion that Moses’ importance lies primarily in the traditions attached to him, rather than in the facts related to his historical person.2 As a result, research on the reception history of Moses has intensified, and both biblical and extra-biblical texts have received new attention and interpretations. Thomas Ro¨mer’s article in this volume investigates forgotten and repressed Moses traditions either alluded to by Hellenistic historians or recognizable behind prominent motifs in the Hebrew Bible. His contribution also functions as a methodological plea for tradition- historical questions to be accorded more consideration alongside their redaction-historical counterparts. James Kugel concentrates on the presentation of Moses in the book of Ju- bilees, which played a very significant role at Qumran and which continues to be included as part of the canon of the Ethiopian church. He highlights an important redaction-critical differentiation in Jubilees that scholarship has not adequately taken into consideration: Jubilees presents the fidelity to Mosaic Torah by Israel’s ancestors in two divergent ways, and these approaches indicate two different redactional layers in the book. The older layer portrays the pre-Mosaic ancestors as following the law naturally and intuitively, while the second perspective interprets their behavior as resulting from adherence to heavenly tablets containing the corresponding prescriptions. In the final contribution addressing the volume’s topic, Carl Ehrlich provides an overview of Moses scholarship in the past decade. He considers not only material from biblical studies, but also addresses the debates about Moses and his cultural-historical impact in the humanities at large. The volume concludes with a presentation of recent archaeological findings from southern Phoenicia by Jens Kamlah, who draws on his own experi- ences on archaeological digs in the region. This section also introduces the substantial research project led by Israel Finkelstein that attempts to correct and further our understanding of the history of ancient Israel through the integration of macro- and micro-archaeology.

2 Cf. R. Bloch, Moses und der Mythos. Die Auseinandersetzung mit der griechischen Mytho- logie bei ju¨disch-hellenistischen Autoren (JSJ.Sup. 145; Leiden: Brill 2011). David M. Carr

The Moses Story: Literary-Historical Reflections

Building on recent trends in scholarship, this article studies the formation of the written Moses story as a discrete literary unit, as opposed to primarily treating its stories as mere components in the broader formation of the Pentateuch. After a review of how study of the Moses story has and has not been linked with broader trends in pentateuchal research, the article traces six relatively reconstructable stages in the formation of the Moses story, from at least one pre-D Moses composition (now truncated through its combination with Deuteronomy) to the harmonization of parts of that story with Deuteronomy in Second Temple manuscript traditions and the differentiation of a “Torah of Moses” from the historical books of Joshua and following. Notably, even late stages such as P (and the combined P/non-P Hexateuch) that combine the Moses story with other literary unities (e. g. Genesis traditions) still preserve structural and other signs of the independent origins of the Moses story vis-a´- vis the materials that precede and follow it.

I. Introduction

Although the books of Exodus through Deuteronomy are united by the fact that they cover the expanse of the life of Moses, it has not always been self-evident that they form a coherent textual unit that shares a distinctive literary history. Past study of the literary strata of these books has been heavily influenced by criteria and models derived from study of the book of Genesis, and data from Genesis – such as narrations of sacrifices by patriarchs outside Jerusalem – has often played a role in the relative dating of literary strata in the Moses story. In this way, much of the history of scholarship on the formation of Exodus–Deuteronomy has been study of these books as parts of the Pentateuch, without attention to unique problems and aspects presented by the Moses story per se. This essay builds on an opposing trend: the tendency in many recent studies to highlight the literary distinctiveness of the traditions connected to Moses, emphasizing in particular the literary-historical divide between materials in Genesis on the one hand and materials in Exodus(ff.) on the other. Moreover, as will become clear in the course of discussion, this literary distinctiveness is not a phenomenon limited to one stage of the formation of the Pentateuch. Rather, I will argue that the unique early origins

HeBAI 1 (2012), 7–36 ISSN 2192-2276 © 2012 Mohr Siebeck 8 David M. Carr of Moses traditions continue to be reflected in later strata of the Penta- teuch, including some (e. g. P) that joined Moses traditions with others.

II. The Distinctive History of Scholarship on Formation of the Moses Story

The Moses story, of course, was not always subsumed under study of the formation of the Pentateuch more broadly. On the contrary, with one slight exception, the Moses story was the last part of the Pentateuch to have its formation studied. To be sure, already careful rabbinic readers speculated about how Moses could have written about his own death, burial and aftermath in Deut 34:5–12. Otherwise, however, Moses seemed an obvious choice as author for the traditions surrounding his life in Exodus through Deuteronomy. Therefore, early academic speculation about “sources” focused primarily on what sources Moses himself might have used in writing about history long prior to his life. Early critics asked whether Moses might have adopted an oral version of the creation story (H.B. Witter) or broader memoirs stretching across Genesis (J. Astruc).1 Indeed, though often misidentified as the founder of the E hypothesis, one distinct innovation introduced by K.D. Ilgen was his explicit inclusion of Moses traditions in his hypotheses regarding pentateuchal source documents kept in the temple.2 In doing so, he built on an emergent eighteenth century tradition of source criticism of Genesis, and his and others’ work was strongly shaped by criteria and models developed there. Ilgen’s own suppositions regarding the Moses story were confined to unpublished notes, but nineteenth century source critics (especially Kno- bel 1857, 1861 and No¨ldeke 1869) soon applied themselves to the Moses story.3 They identified a P strand that eventually (with minor refinements

1 H.B. Witter, Jura Israelitarum in Palaaestinam terram Chananaeam, commentatione in Genesin perpetua (Hildesiæ: Sumtibus Ludolphi Schro¨deri, 1711); also, J. Astruc, Conjec- tures sur les me´moires originaux dont il paroıˆt que Moyse s’est servi pour composer le livre de la Gene´se (Paris: Chez Fricx, 1999 [1753 original]). For contemporary discussion, see the essays in J. Jarick, ed., Sacred Conjectures: The Context and Legacy of Robert Lowth and Jean Astruc (London: T & T Clark, 2007). 2 On the latter, see the discussion particularly on pp. 244–246 in B. Seidel, Karl David Ilgen und die Pentateuchforschung im Umkreis der sogenannten A¨ lteren Urkundenhypothese: Studien zur Geschichte der exegetische Hermeneutik in der Spa¨ten Aufkla¨rung (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1993). 3 A. Knobel, Die Bu¨cher Exodus und Leviticus (Leipzig: S. Hirzel, 1857); idem, Die Bu¨cher Numeri, Deuteronomium, und Josua (Leipzig: S. Hirzel, 1861); T. No¨ldeke, Untersuchun- gen zur Kritik des Alten Testaments (Kiel: Schwers’sche Buchhandlung, 1869). The Moses Story: Literary-Historical Reflections 9 by subsequent scholars) included texts such as the preliminary description of the Israelites in Egypt and Moses’ call (Exod 1:1–5[6 or 7], 13–14; 2:23ab–25; 6:2–7:7); parts of the plague narratives (e. g. 7:8–13, 19–20, 21b–22; 8:1–3, 11b–15 [Eng. 8:5–7, 15b–19]; 9:8–12), Passover (e. g. 12:1– 20, 28) and Reed Sea narratives (Exod 13:[1–2] 20; 14:1–4, 8–9, 10 [end of verse], 15–18, 21*, 22–23, 26–27a, 28, 29), the mannah story (Exodus 16*), a strand of the Sinai account (Exod 19:1–2a; 24:15–18; 25:1–31:17; 35:1– 40:38; Leviticus; Num 1:1–10:10), a P spy story (Num 13:1–17a, 21, 25, 32aba; 14:1–10*, 26–38), additional laws on sacrifice and Sabbath (Num- bers 15), a Korah-Levite strand of the rebellion against Moses story in Numbers 16–17 and various subsequent legal materials (e. g. Num 16:1, 3– 11, 16–19, etc.; 18–19), at least parts of the second Meribah story (Num 20:1–13*), the death of Aaron (Num 20:22–29), parts of the following itinerary (e. g. Num 21:10–11) and Baal-Peor story (Num 25:6–15, also 25:16–19 saying), the Numbers 26 census, the bulk of the materials that follow in Numbers (exceptions are parts of the story of distribution of land to Transjordanian tribes in Numbers 32) and a bit of Deuteronomy (No¨ldeke assigned most of Deut 34:1–9 to P; later critics tended to assign just 34:1a, 7–9*, sometimes with other fragments). Aside from minor adjustments, these basic identifications of P (and implicitly non-P) texts have been standard up until recently. The main controversy in the last couple of decades has been over the question of whether the original P document ended with the tabernacle account or possibly somewhere in Leviticus.4 This debate is not settled, but there are signs that the pendulum may swing back to a more traditional identification of P across much of Numbers and possibly even into Deuteronomy and Joshua.5 Not only are there a number of terminological and conceptual weaknesses in the arguments denying the assignment of Numbers texts t o P, 6 but also this recent line of scholarly argumentation (for an original ending of P at the end of Exodus or early in Leviticus) is undermined by a

4 For a recent overview, see J. Ska, “Le re´cit sacerdotal: Une ‘histoire sans fin’?,” in The Books of Leviticus and Numbers (ed. T. Ro¨mer; BETL 215; Leuven: Peeters, 2008), 632– 636. 5 To be sure, in Europe this movement has been limited to E. Axel Knauf, “Die Priest- erschrift und die Geschichten der Deuteronomisten,” in The Future of the Deuteronomis- tic History (ed. T. Ro¨mer; BETL 147; Leuven: Peeters, 2000); see too the work of his stu- dent P. Guillaume, Land and Calendar: The Priestly Document from Genesis 1 to Joshua 18 (Library of Hebrew Bible 391; New York: T & T Clark, 2009). Nevertheless, cf. now Ska, “‘histoire sans fin’?”; for more survey, see C. Frevel, “Kein Ende in Sicht? Zur Pries- tergrundschrift im Buch Levitikus”, in Leviikus als Buch (ed. H. Fabry and H. Ju¨ngling: Berlin: Philo, 1999), 85–123. 6 On this, see particularly Ska, “‘histoire sans fin’?” 648–653. 10 David M. Carr number of uninterrogated assumptions about what sort of ending P had to have had7 if we even have such an ending preserved.8 But overall, the basic identification of Priestly material (whether source or, in some cases, redactional) across the Hexateuch remains one of the more assured results of the last two centuries of biblical scholarship. The same cannot be said of the identification of J and E non-Priestly sources of the Moses story. Here again we see the belated application in the Moses story of criteria and models first developed in Genesis. The real originator of the E hypothesis, H. Hupfeld (1853), developed and applied his E hypothesis in a book on the sources of Genesis.9 But it was Knobel’s commentaries (in 1857 and 1861) on the books of the Moses story and especially J. Wellhausen’s articles (in 1876 and 1877) on the composition of the Hexateuch that extended this model to the Moses story. In subsequent years, the portions of the Moses story often assigned to E have included the following:

1) Parts of the prelude to Moses’ commission (midwives in 1:15–21; sometimes the birth story in 2:2–10) 2) Most of the divine commission of Moses (e. g. 3:1b, 3b, 4b, 6, 9–15, 21– 22; 4:1–18) 3) Much of the interlude before the plagues (Exodus 4–5*; minus the attack of Yahweh in 4:24–26) 4) Miriam’s song (15:20–21) and elements of the plagues and wilderness narratives seen as having particular links to (purported E) elements of Moses’ commission such as his staff (e. g. Exod 7:17, 20; 9:23; 10:13; the plague of darkness in 10:21–27 and bulk of Exodus 17) and the despoiling of the Egyptians (11:1–3) 5) An anticipation of the wilderness in Exod 13:17–19 seen as linking (via Exod 13:19) back to a supposed “E” element in Gen 50:24–25 and an- ticipating what was taken as a (largely) “E” review of the Hexateuch in Joshua 24 (see especially Josh 24:29, 32)

7 Again, the reflections in Ska, “‘histoire sans fin’?” 636–639 are pertinent. 8 As I argue at more length in The Formation of the Hebrew Bible: A New Reconstruction (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 88–90, our documented cases of transmission history do not feature the preservation of entire precursor documents, and the endings and beginnings of source documents are particularly likely to be lost in transmission. 9 H. Hupfeld, Die Quellen der Genesis und die Art ihrer Zusammensetzung von neuem un- tersucht (Berlin: Verlag von Wiegandt und Grieben, 1853). Ilgen is sometimes mentioned as the originator of the idea of E (Die Urkunden des Jerusalemischen Tempelarchivs in ihrer Urgestalt, als Beytrag zur Berichtigung der Geschichte der Religion und Politik: Theil I: Die Urkunden des ersten Buchs von Moses [Halle: Hemmerde und Schwetschke, 1798]), but his “E” is quite distinct from the “E” of Hupfeld and successors. The Moses Story: Literary-Historical Reflections 11 6) A strand of Exodus 18–24 that seems to link to Exodus 3–4* and focus on the “mountain of God” (Exodus 18 [especially 18:12–27]; 19:3, 16– 17, 19; 20:1–21; 24:12–14; 32:1–6, 15–20) 7) The tent of meeting in Exod 33:7–11 and a series of texts featuring it (Num 11:16–17, 24–30; 12:1–15; 20:4–9; Deut 31:14–15, 23) 8) The Edom story (Num 20:14–21) with perceived links to Exodus 18 and elements in Numbers 21 seen as related to the Edom story (often the Sihon account in 21:21–25 and varying parts of surrounding material) 9) The bulk of the Balaam story except for the donkey episode in Num 22:22–35 and (often) parts of Numbers 24.

Although W. Rudolph (1938) fundamentally challenged the existence of any E elements in the Moses story – a range of assignments that under- went significant modification in influential treatments such as Noth’s10 – the supposed influence of E in this story dwindled even more in the wake of the broad critique of documentary models initiated by J. Van Seters, H. H. Schmid, R. Rendtorff, and others who followed them.11 By the time A. Graupner mounted his large-scale defense of the idea of an “Elohistic” document, his proposed “E” contained only a small fraction of the above- listed texts once assigned to E,12 and T. Yoreh’s recent revisionary proposal for E likewise locates almost all his proposed E texts in Genesis.13

10 W. Rudolph, Der “Elohist” von Exodus bis Josua (BZAW 68; Berlin: A. To¨pelmann, 1938). Noth’s source assignments varied some between his various writings. For example, in his identification of E in U¨ berlieferungsgeschichte des Pentateuch (M. Noth, U¨ berlieferungsgeschichte des Pentateuch [2nd ed.; Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1960 (original 1948)], 38–39 [Eng. 35–36]), his resultant “E” source lacks significant portions of Exodus 3–4 often assigned to the Elohist (e. g. Exod 3:1b, 3b; 4:1–16): any plague or other material prior to the wilderness introduction in Exod 13:17–19; Miriam’s song (15:20–21); the tent of meeting and all other Exodus 32–34 material often assigned to E with the exception of 32:1b–4a, 21–24, and the other “tent of meeting” texts in subsequent wilderness narratives. 11 H.H. Schmid, Der sogenannte Jahwist: Beobachtungen und Fragen zur Pentateuchfors- chung (Zurich: Theologischer Verlag, 1976); R. Rendtorff, Das u¨berlieferungsgeschichtliche Problem des Pentateuch (BZAW 147; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1977); E. Blum, Studien zur Komposition des Pentateuch (BZAW 189; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1990); J. Van Seters, The Life of Moses: The Yahwist as Historian in Exodus-Numbers (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1994). 12 A. Graupner’s E (summarized on pp. 410–413 of Der Elohist: Gegenwart und Wir- ksamkeit des transzendenten Gottes in der Geschichte [WMANT 97; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 2002]) lacks the Moses birth story and the latter parts of the commission of Moses (Exod 3:15, 21–22; 4:1–17); all parts of Exodus 5–6, plagues and Exo- dus 17; the ten commandments; all of the Sinai account except the golden calf episode and the materials associated with the tent of meeting; and all of Numbers except parts of the Balaam story. Note also R. Kratz’s “E” (summarized on p. 303 [Eng. 294] of Die 12 David M. Carr Meanwhile, some recent revisionary proposals for J likewise have eliminated most Moses story texts once assigned to the Yahwist source. R. Kratz’s “J” is exclusively confined to the book of Genesis14 and C. Levin’s “J” includes only a short Moses section comprised primarily of non-P portions of the outset of the Moses story: the prelude to Moses’ commission and the bulk of the first part of that commission (Exod 3:1–22, including many portions assigned in the past to E) followed by a thin strand of texts spanning from the Reed Sea story to the pre-Sinai wilderness stories. Aside from this beginning, Levin’s J lacks much other Moses material – aside from parts of the Balaam story and fragments relating to or immediately following Sinai (Exod 19:2–3a; 24:18; 34:5, 9, 28; also, Hobab in Num 10:29aab, 30–31, 33 and quails in parts of Num 11:2, 4, 11, 23, 31–32).15 In sum, much recent scholarship, including those interpreters who ad- vocate some form of a classical source-critical approach to the Pentateuch, has moved away from assigning much, if any, of the Moses story material to the J and E sources originally identified in Genesis. This trend then converges with a simultaneous movement in pentateuchal research toward the conclusion that the connection of non-P Genesis and Moses materials is either post-Priestly or (at the least) a very late pre-Priestly compositional layer. As R. Kessler first showed in his 1972 dissertation, the explicit back references to the Genesis story in the non-P portions of Genesis–Deuter- onomy are quite limited and often obviously secondary to their contexts.16 For example, the back-reference in Exod 32:13 to Yahweh’s oath promise

Komposition der erza¨hlenden Bu¨cher des Alten Testaments: Grundwissen der Bibelkritik [UTB 2137; Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000]), which lacks any texts formerly assigned to E in Genesis and most texts missing in Graupner’s E (though Kratz includes the Moses birth story and Exod 3:21–22 in his E) as well as the revelation of the divine name to Moses in Exod 3:9–15, the introduction to the wilderness account in Exod 13:17–19, and all extended narratives in the following Moses story except for parts of Exod 15:20–27*. Thus, Kratz’s “E” is basically an “E” in name only, consisting of the introduction and commissioning of Moses (but not the revelation of the divine name), the Reed Sea and Marah stories, a series of fragments leading to the death of Moses in Deut 34:5–6, and a series of texts in Joshua rarely assigned to E, such as the Rahab story of Joshua 2*. 13 T. Yoreh’s E (summarized on pp. 38–42 of The First Book of God [BZAW 402; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2010]) likewise lacks the Moses birth story, latter parts of Moses’ commission (Exod 3:21–22; 4:1–17), all of Exodus 5–6, the Sinai account aside from the golden calf episode, and the Edom story in Num 20:14–21. 14 Kratz, Komposition, 249–80 (Eng. 248–274). 15 C. Levin, Der Jahwist (FRLANT 157; Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1993), 313– 388. 16 R. Kessler, Die Querverweise im Pentateuch: U¨ berlieferungsgeschichtliche Untersuchung der expliziten Querverbindungen innerhalb des vorpriesterlichen Pentateuchs (Heidelberg: Universita¨t Heidelberg, 1972), 180–327, esp. 314–327. The Moses Story: Literary-Historical Reflections 13 of land and multiplication to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob occurs in an intercessory scene with Moses (Exod 32:9–14) that scholars have long recognized as a secondary addition to the golden calf narrative. Even though the commission of Moses in Exod 3:1–4:18 potentially can be taken as a link back to Genesis through its mention of the three patriarchs (Exod 3:6, 15, 16), the overall text may well be a secondary insertion into the surrounding non-P context (moving from the death of Pharaoh in 2:23aa to the divine announcement of that fact to Moses in Exod 4:19).17 The main place where one might find some kind of non- and even pre-Priestly link between Moses and Genesis is in the bridge between these blocks in Gen 50:24–Exod 1:8. Nevertheless, the non-P elements found here, particularly the blessing and death of Joseph in Gen 50:24–25, have semi-Deuterono- mistic elements and links to Joshua 24 that have led most recent scholars to see them as extremely late, perhaps even post-Priestly, additions to non- Priestly Joseph and Moses narratives that originally presented quite different perspectives on Egypt (as is recognized and engaged in Exod 1:8).18 Thus we now face a situation where the question of the formation of the Moses story might be re-engaged on its own terms. Aside from the distinction of Priestly and non-Priestly strata across the Hexateuch, past source-critical models for the formation of the Moses story (vis-a´-vis J and E) command a much smaller sector of contemporary international scholarship than previously.19 Moreover, the links between Genesis and Moses story materials appear to be relatively late. The balance of this essay will

17 For the basic arguments and citation of earlier literature on Exod 3:1–4:18 as an insertion, see Blum, Studien, 20–22 and J.C. Gertz, Tradition und Redaktion in der Exodus- erza¨hlung: Untersuchungen zur Endredaktion des Pentateuch (FRLANT 186; Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000), 254–256. Note that other potential back-references in non-P Moses story materials to elements of Genesis, such as the general reference to Ya- hweh’s promise of land by oath to “fathers” in Num 14:16, show similar signs of late/ secondary character and/or feature only vague links to elements of Genesis. 18 K. Schmid, Erzva¨ter und Exodus: Untersuchungen zur doppelten Begru¨ndung der Ur- spru¨nge Israels innerhalb der Geschichtsbu¨cher des Alten Testaments (WMANT 81; Neu- kirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1999), 209–238 [Eng. 193–221]; and Gertz, Exo- duserza¨hlung, 359–370. For a recent different perspective, cf. C. Berner, Die Exodus- erza¨hlung: Das literarische Werden einer Ursprungslegende Israels (FAT 73; Tu¨bingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010), 10–48. 19 To be sure, there is a movement of scholars such as R. Friedman on the one hand and B. Schwartz and his students on the other, who have advocated more extensive assignments of Moses story texts to J and E. See, for example, R. Friedman, Who Wrote the Bible? (New York: Summit, 1987); idem, The Hidden Book in the Bible (San Francisco: Harp- erSanFrancisco, 1998); B. Schwartz, “What Really Happened at Mount Sinai? Four Bib- lical Answers to One Question,” BR 13 (1997): 20–30, 46; and J. Baden, J, E, and the Redaction of the Pentateuch (FAT 68; Tu¨bingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009). The present author has a preliminary response to the latter treatment in Review of Biblical Literature 12 [2010] at http://www.bookreviews.org. 14 David M. Carr offer several suggestions regarding reconstruction of the formation of the Moses story, starting with two bodies of what might be termed “empirical” data: first, the evidence provided by the earliest manuscript traditions for the Moses story and, second, the evidence from the way Deuteronomy’s reminiscences relate to the episodes in Exodus and Numbers that they purportedly review. These two bodies of evidence (and reflections on them) will provide the starting point for several further reflections on what is taken here to be the most reconstructable potential stages of the formation of the written Moses story. Because of this study’s limited scope, this focus on the broad contours of the most reconstructable potential stages will exclude exploration of exclusively oral portions of the prehistory of the biblical Moses story. To be sure, the Moses narrative contains some tantalizing hints that it preserves some quite archaic elements. These include the Egyptian names of major characters (e. g. Moses, Phinehas), the double tradition that Moses had a foreign wife (Midianite in Exod 2:16–22; 18:1–6; Kushite in Num 12:1), and the enigmatic hints of some kind of unusually close link between Moses and the Midianites (Exod 2:16–22; 18:1–27; Num 10:29–32). These fragments have provided fodder for many speculative reconstructions of Moses’ life, the formative history of Israel, and its earliest traditions. So far, however, research on the history of Moses’ life has led to quite general sustained results. While we have good reason to think that there was an ancient Moses and oral traditions about him and his people, it has proven more difficult to characterize more precisely our most ancient traditions about Moses. For that reason, this discussion focuses primarily on stages of the formation of the Moses story that involved the medium of writing, its literary-historical formation.20

III. A “Final Redaction” of the Moses Story?

The earliest manuscript traditions of the Pentateuch provide a starting point for a backwards look at the formation of the Moses story, since we have some documentation of divergent recensions of the Pentateuch in Old Greek, Samaritan, proto-Masoretic and Qumran manuscripts. To be

20 As argued at more length in my Writing on the Tablet of the Heart: Origins of Scripture and Literature (New York: Oxford University Press, 2005), written literary traditions like the Bible usually were performed orally and memorized. In that sense, then, this entire discussion focuses on written traditions that were, in part, transmitted “orally.” Thus, this qualification only rules out traditions that were not written but transmitted in an exclusively oral manner. The Moses Story: Literary-Historical Reflections 15 sure, in the case of the Old Greek we must reckon with the possibility that some differences resulted from the translators. Moreover, some parts of the Samaritan pentateuchal tradition are manifestly late.21 Nevertheless, a number of “proto-Samaritan” pentateuchal manuscripts at Qumran have documented the existence of a broader tradition of expansionist recensions of the Pentateuch that both preceded and followed the formation of the substrate of the Samaritan Pentateuch,22 and the relative conservatism of the translation-technique of the Septuagint translators is well documented. Thus, when we encounter large-scale differences between these manuscript traditions we must reckon with the significant possibility that they reflect late (Persian or Hellenistic period) divergent literary iterations of the Hebrew pentateuchal tradition. Accordingly, the bulk of such divergences seem to reflect a documented tendency to coordinate parts of the Pentateuch with one another – above all, materials in Exodus and Numbers with their reviews in Deuteronomy. Later tradents thus appear to have added materials to Exodus and Num- bers in order to secure correspondence of those materials with Moses’ summaries of events in Deuteronomy (e. g., the conquest of Og in Num 21:33–35; cf. Deut 3:1–7). Less often documented, but still present in some particularly expansionist traditions, are a few cases where scribes added materials to Moses’ reviews in Deuteronomy in order to make them cor- respond to narrations in Exodus and Numbers.23 This tendency toward supplementation of the Tetrateuch (rather than supplementation of Deu- teronomy) seems to reflect a presupposition among the tradents of these pentateuchal traditions that Moses’ reviews were selective and could have left out mention of various preceding narratives and, conversely, that these preceding narratives were comprehensive and necessarily needed to include all events that Moses mentioned. We see other examples of scribal coordination of narratives and reviews of them in several other documented revisions of pentateuchal traditions, such as the revision of Gene- sis 30 to agree with Jacob’s speech to his wives in Gen 31:11–13 (4Q158;

21 Here I am thinking particularly of the insertion of the collage of biblical passages (Deut 11:29a; 27:2b–3a, 4a, 5–7; 11:30) inserted into the conclusion of the ten commandments found in the Samaritan Pentateuch that urge sacrifice at Gerizim, the Samaritan sanctu- ary. 22 For a useful probe suggesting a model for this, see E. Eshel and H. Eshel, “Dating the Samaritan Pentateuch’s Compilation in Light of the Qumran Biblical Scrolls,” in Eman- uel: Studies in Hebrew Bible, Septuagint and Dead Sea Scrolls in Honor of Emanuel Tov (ed. S. Paul et. al.; VTSup. 94; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 215–240. 23 On this, see particularly E. Eshel, “4QDeutn – A Text That Has Undergone Harmonistic Editing,” HUCA 62 (1991): 117–154. 16 David M. Carr proto-Samaritan and Samaritan traditions) and revision of Joshua’s review of hexateuchal history to agree with parts of that history.24 In addition to such modifications of narrations and narrative reviews of them, there are many other examples of likely coordinating expansions of pentateuchal traditions, both on micro- and macro-levels. For example, the Old Greek and proto-Masoretic traditions for Exodus appear to reflect different stages in the gradual harmonization of the command and compliance portions of the tabernacle narrative.25 This would be a relatively large-scale example of coordination/harmonization. Meanwhile, the Old Greek, proto-Samaritan/Samaritan, and even proto-MT (in these cases often aligned in its supplements with expansionist pentateuchal traditions against the Old Greek) contain a multitude of probable supplements coordinating minor parts of different episodes with each other. For example, the LXX of Exod 23:18 adds a divine promise to expand the borders of Is- rael from Exod 34:24a before regulations regarding leaven and fat (23:18b//34:25), effectively harmonizing Exod 23:18 with 34:24–25 (34:24b is parallel to 23:17). A few verses later, the LXX of Exod 23:22 features an enhanced version of God’s promise concerning covenantal benefits for obedience that more closely matches and thus harmonizes with the promises for obedience in Exod 19:5–6. Such micro-harmonizations, of course, are not limited to the LXX or even to the family of expansionist manuscripts of which the Samaritan Pentateuch is a part. For example, the MT along with the Samaritan Pentateuch tradition contain a םיקנע seen by the spies are the נ לפ י ם plus in Num 13:33 clarifying that the mentioned in Deut 1:28, thus conforming a Priestly portion of the spy story with vocabulary found in the D review of that account. These are just some examples of scores of such micro-additions documented across the manuscript traditions for the Moses story. In addition, there are a limited number of possible interventions documented in the proto-MT that may reflect late literary interventions by Hasmonean-period editors aiming to bolster their monarchy and under- mine Samaritan claims. Examples include the particular year-scheme evident in the proto-MT that – when combined with our present knowledge of the chronology of Persian rulers – results in the dating of the Hasmo-

24 For review of these and other cases of documented harmonization/coordination see my Formation of the Hebrew Bible, 40–56, 90–98 and (for Joshua 24) 134–136. 25 On this problem, see particularly A. Aejmelaeus, “Septuagintal Translation Techniques: A Solution to the Problem of the Tabernacle Account,” in Septuagint, Scrolls and Cog- nate Writings: Papers Presented to the International Symposium on the Septuagint and Its Relations to the Dead Sea Scrolls and Other Writings (Manchester 1990) (ed. G.J. Brooke and B. Lindars; Atlanta: Scholars, 1992), 381–401. The Moses Story: Literary-Historical Reflections 17 nean rededication of the temple 4000 years after creation. Such knowledge of Persian chronology, however, is not documented among Second Tem- ple tradents and is notably lacking in examples such as Esdras and Ezra– Nehemiah.26 Perhaps a better founded possibility is that the proto-MT Deuteronomy represents a revision of older texts (reflected in the Samari- tan and some Old Greek traditions) that had Yahweh insist on sacrifice at the place that Yahweh “had chosen,” which emerges in Deut 27:4–7 as Mount Gerizim (the site of the Samaritan temple). This probable earlier Gerizim-focused edition of Deuteronomy then was modified to a Hasmo- nean version that has Yahweh insist on sacrifice at the place Yahweh “will choose” and then revision of Deut 27:4–7 to describe the building of an altar on Mount Ebal (the mountain where people soon pronounce a curse on themselves). This revised Hasmonean version then inclines the reader to see the ultimate choice of worship place as Jerusalem, where Solomon ultimately builds a temple in 1 Kings.27 Whether or not one finds all these proposals persuasive, these manuscript materials appear to document a stage of literary revision that is not focused on broader theological shaping of the pentateuchal tradition. In- stead, at most, they manifest a scribal tendency to enhance the coherence of the tradition with itself, coordinating character reviews of events with prior narrations of those events, compliance with command, etc. For the most part, documented, late ideological/theological changes (e. g. the above discussed proto-MT of Deut 27:4–7) are rare and confined in their scope. Allowing that some Second Temple authors seem to have undertaken broader-scale re-presentations of the Moses tradition (e. g. the Tem- ple Scroll that replaced Moses with a divine speaker across much of Deu- teronomy), their efforts did not find acceptance among broad sections of Judaism. However, one thing these documented revisions do reveal is the con- certed effort of Second Temple tradents to overcome perceived problems with the continuity between Deuteronomy and the material preceding it.

26 These reservations balance my endorsement of this theory in my Writing on the Tablet of the Heart, 264. I thank John Collins (in a personal communication) for calling these problems to my attention. 27 A. Schenker, “Le Seigneur choisira-t-il le lieu de son nom ou l’a-t-il choisi?: l’apport de la Bible grecque ancienne a` l’histoire du texte samaritain et massore´tique,” in Scripture in Transition: Essays on Septuagint, Hebrew Bible, and Dead Sea Scrolls in Honour of Raija Sollamo (ed. A. Voitila and J. Jokiranta; JSJSup. 126; Leiden: Brill, 2008), 339–351; idem, “Textgeschichtliches zum Samaritanischen Pentateuch und Samareitikon,” in Samari- tans: Past and Present. Current Studies (ed. M. Mor and F.V. Reiterer; Berlin: de Gruy- ter, 2010), 105–21. In addition, I thank Stephan Schorch for sharing his own presentation on this topic in pre-publication form. 18 David M. Carr Indeed, it is striking how many more coordinating insertions documented in the manuscript traditions are focused on harmonizing Deuteronomy with what precedes as opposed to overcoming differences between what scholars now would identify as P and non-P traditions. Apparently Second Temple authors found the occasional lack of fit between the reminiscences of Moses and preceding narrations (in Exodus and Numbers) problematic enough to justify repeated intervention. Such problems are not mere creations of contemporary critics. Furthermore, this phenomenon raises questions for recent studies suggesting that the reminiscences in Deuteronomy were written to stand as part of a literary continuation of non-P (or combined P and non-P) materials in Exodus–Numbers. However much the author(s) of Deuteronomy knew the traditions in Exodus–Numbers (and I myself believe they had some such knowledge), they apparently felt a freedom to radically revise and represent those traditions (in the Mosaic voice) in a way that later scribes – struggling now with a corpus that combined Deuteronomy with those traditions – found problematic. This problem, along with the fact (observed long before by Wellhausen) that the Mosaic reviews in Deuteronomy seem to presuppose a situation where the book did not follow materials currently preceding it in Exodus–Num- bers,28 suggests that the combination of Deuteronomy with Exodus–Num- bers in the present Pentateuch is a secondary creation, one that posed problems for later tradents working with the resultant and sometimes dis- cordant composition.29

28 J. Wellhausen, Die Composition des Hexateuchs und der historischen Bu¨cher des Alten Testaments (4th ed.; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1963 [orig. 1876]), 194; see also E. Blum, “Pen- tateuch-Hexateuch-Enneateuch? Oder: Woran erkennt man ein literarischer Werk in der Hebra¨ischen Bibel?” in Les dernie`res re´dactions du Pentateuque, de l’Hexateuque et de l’Enne´ateuque (ed. T. Ro¨mer and K. Schmid; BETL 203; Leuven: Leuven University, 2007), 67–97. 29 Kratz (“Die literarische Ort des Deuteronomiums,” in Liebe und Gebot: Studien zum Deuteronomium [ed. R. Kratz and H. Spieckermann; Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Rup- recht, 2000], 101–120 [esp. p. 109]); and Schmid (Erzva¨ter und Exodus, 34–37 [Eng. 29– 32]) have argued on various grounds that Deuteronomy 1–3 was written from the outset as a continuation of what precedes. Schmid notes correctly that Deuteronomy 1–3 presupposes audience knowledge of some form of Tetrateuchal narratives, but as Blum has noted (Blum, “Woran erkennt?” 90–93), this does not require that texts be part of the same corpus. Kratz (esp. p. 109) notes ways in which Deuteronomy is set in the plains of Moab, exactly where the preceding narrative concluded (Num 22:1; 25:1; 27:12–13a). Nevertheless, it should come as no surprise that the redactors of the present Pentateuch made sure that the geographical setting of Deuteronomy agreed in one way or another with the material preceding it. The Moses Story: Literary-Historical Reflections 19 IV. Deuteronomy and Its Precursors

So far I have proposed and discussed three main stages to the formation of the Moses story: 1) the precursor text(s) to Deuteronomy presupposed in its reviews; 2) the writing of Deuteronomy itself (possibly along with other materials following it); 3) and the combination of some (partially preserved) form of the precursor Moses text(s) with Deuteronomy. I turn now to consideration of what Deuteronomy might tell us about its precursor texts. I start with several loci where texts belonging to various layers of Deu- teronomy show fairly specific potential links to parts of Exodus and Num- bers. For example, materials in Deuteronomy chapters 1, 4–5 and 9–10 show some striking links to the strand of texts in Exodus 18–24, 32–34 that tend to designate the location of the mountain covenant as either the “mountain” or “mountain of God” and frequently refer to the deity as just “God.” These same Deuteronomistic reminiscences do not show as many obvious connections to the other materials (whether non-P or P) in Exo- dus 18–40. Deuteronomy 1:9–18 shows multiple and specific links to the story of Moses’ delegation of authority in Exodus 18:13–27; Deuteronomy 4–5 includes a picture of an auditory theophany of God, including the ten commandments (Exod 19:16–17, 19), that leads the people to be afraid and to ask Moses to receive other commands alone (Exod 20:18–21); and Deut 9:8–21, 25–29; 10:1–5 reviews a story of how the people made a golden calf upon Moses’ ascent on the mountain for forty days and nights to receive the tablets of law, and his subsequent angry destruction of the calf and the tablets alike before praying on the people’s behalf and ascend- ing a second time to get a second set of tablets (cf. especially Exod 32:1–6, 19–20; 34:1, 5). Moving beyond Sinai/Horeb, Deut 1:19–45 (note also Deut 9:23) appears to review and reconstrue an earlier (pre-harmonized) version of the non-P spy narrative preserved in parts of Numbers 13:17– 14:45, including now blind motifs in Deuteronomy, such as the role of the fruit in Num 13:20, 23–24 (see Deut 1:25) and the exclusion of Caleb from punishment in Num 13:30; 14:8–9 (see Deut 1:36). The report in Deut 2:26–37 (note also 4:46–47; 29:6) about Israel’s interactions with Sihon of the Amorites verbally parallels and blends elements of narratives in Num- bers regarding the background to Israel’s detour around Edom (Num 20:14–21) and Israel’s interactions with Sihon (Num 21:21–25, 31–32).30 Finally, Moses’ review of the distribution of the land to the Reubenites and

30 For more discussion, see Baden, J, E and Redaction, 347–351; and cf. W. Oswald, “Die Revision des Edombildes in Numeri XX 14–21,” VT 50 (2000): 218–232. 20 David M. Carr Gadites in Deut 3:12–20 may presuppose a strand of Numbers 32:1–32 that likewise portrays Moses giving land to these tribes and allowing them to leave their wives, children and livestock in the Transjordanian towns while they went at the vanguard of the other tribes across the Jordan as shock troops.31 In these cases, the materials in Deuteronomy 1–3 provide (more and less) extended overviews of materials found in the non-P Tetrateuch, containing enough verbal parallels to support the hypothesis that the author of these materials knew some literary form of these corresponding tetrateuchal narratives prior to their combination with P.32 Meanwhile, other parts of Deuteronomy do not necessarily have non-P tetrateuchal narratives in view. For example, Deut 25:17–18 refers to an otherwise unknown tradition about the Amalekites attacking Israel on the way out of Egypt (Deut 25:17–18; cf. Exod 17:8–15). Moreover, Deut 26:4–5 mentions otherwise unattested traditions about an Ammonite and Moabite refusal to provide provisions along with God’s turning Balaam’s original curse of Israel into a blessing.33 Both could be Deuteronomic reinterpretations of narratives now in Numbers, but their present form does not allow us to conclude with certainty that the author(s) of these texts in Deuteronomy knew these materials. In between are somewhat briefer back-references to non-P tetrateuchal narratives across various strata of the rest of the book of Deuteronomy. Most such references parallel narratives that follow the Sinai narrative of Exodus and Numbers, including mention of disobedience at Taberah (Deut 9:22; cf. Num 11:1–3), Kibroth Ha-Taavah (Deut 9:22; cf. Num 11:4–35), Miriam’s leprosy (Deut 24:9; cf. Numbers 12), the story of Da- than and Abiram being swallowed up in the earth in Numbers 16 (Deut 11:6; cf. esp. Num 16:27b–35), fiery snakes in the desert (Deut 8:15; cf. Num 21:4b–9), and disobedience at Baal-Peor (Deut 4:3–4; also 4:46 and Hos 9:10). Indeed, combined with the above-mentioned back-references

31 Again, Baden’s discussion in J, E and Redaction, 141–148 is evocative in its implicit use of Deuteronomy to stratify Numbers 32, even if this renders circular his own argument that the stratification of Numbers 32 means that Deuteronomy relied on only one and not two pre-D sources. This strand of Numbers 32 in isolation and using D would then contrast with a layer of P or P-like materials where Moses commissions Joshua and El- eazar the priest to assign Transjordanian lands to Reuben and Gad after the conquest was complete. 32 In this sense, I disagree with more radical proposals, such as that of M. Rose, Deuteron- omist und Jahwist: Untersuchungen zu den Beru¨hrungspunkten beider Literaturwerke (ATANT 67; Zu¨rich: Theologischer Verlag, 1981), that the Tetrateuchal narratives virtu- ally all post-date their counterparts in Deuteronomy. 33 See the discussion in Blum, Studien, 175 (including n. 337) on how these traditions might relate to reinterpretation of Tetrateuchal traditions in (late) layers of Deuterono- my. The Moses Story: Literary-Historical Reflections 21 in Deuteronomy 1–3, these texts at least briefly mention almost every event in the non-P tetrateuchal narrative after Sinai. In addition, various layers of Deuteronomy also certainly know generally of the Exodus from Egypt referring frequently to it as the defining event of Israel’s early history with Yahweh (Deut 1:27, 30; 4:20, 34, 37, 45, 46; 5:6, 15; 6:12, 21–22; 7:8, 18–19; 8:14; 9:12, 26, 28–29; 11:2–3; 13:6, 11; 15:5, 15; 20:1; 21:8; 23:5; 24:9, 18, 22; 25:17; 26:8; 29:2, 24).34 Nevertheless, we do not see quite as specific review in Deuteronomy of events prior to the mountain of God/Sinai as we see of many events after the mountain. The small credo in Deut 26:5–8 parallels terminology found in (potential) non-P materials of Exodus 1 and 3:7, 9 for Israel’s becoming in Exod םע … בר ו צע ו ם .cf ;26:5 יוג ודג ל צע ו ם) ”a “great and powerful nation cf. 1:12), Israel’s crying out ;26:6 ונונעי ) Egypt’s “oppressing” them ,(1:9 in 2:23 וקעזיו in 3:9, but also קע נב־ת י ישׂ ארצל in 3:7 and םתקעצ .cf ;26:7 ו נ קעצ ) [P]), and Yahweh’s “hearing” their distress (Exod 3:7; note also “hearing” ;in 26:7 ץחל and נע י ) ”their “oppression ( האר ) ”in 6:5 [P]) and “seeing in Exod 3:9).35 In addition, the law אר י ת י תא ־ חלה ץ ;in Exod 3:7 אר י ת י תא ־ ע נ י regarding Passover and the feast of unleavened bread in Deuteronomy 16 adds nighttime themes to its covenant code precursor (Deut 16:1; cf. Exod 23:15) along with a mention of hurried flight in connection with unleavened bread (Deut 16:3), which stand as possible connections to the Passo- ver narrative of Exodus 12:29–34. Finally, Deut 11:4 knows of the destruction of the Egyptian army at the Red Sea, perhaps reflecting the non-P narrative strand in Exodus 14 (see also the drying of the Red sea in Josh 2:10 and reenacted in 4:23). At any rate, the numerous references to the exodus from Egypt often refer in only general terms to Yahweh’s bringing Israel out of Egypt (1:27; 6:12; 9:12; 13:11; 20:1; 29:24) and/or buying Is- Deut 15:15; 21:8; 24:18; both in 13:6), often with a “strong ; הדפ ) rael free ;see, e. g. Deut 5:15) ( עורז וטנ י ה) ”and “outstretched arm ( די קזחה) ”hand 7:8). It is only in the first fruits confession mentioned above and various references in paranesis to what Israel “saw” in Egypt that we see expansion of these sorts of back-references to the exodus with mention of “signs”

34 Note also the possible reference to wonders in Egypt in Deut 10:21–22, memories of an Egyptian sojourn in Deut 10:19; 16:12; 23:8; 28:68; 29:15, and the journey out of Egypt in Deut 23:5; 24:9; 25:17. 35 The potential echoes of the “cry” and Yahweh’s “hearing” it in P relate to a crux in the possible dependence of Exod 3:7, 9 on P in 2:22. On this question, see Schmid, Erzva¨ter und Exodus, 235–6 [Eng. 218–219]. With regard to P, there is also a unique parallel bein Deut 26:6 and two P loci in Exod 1:14; 6:9, which ע ב ד הה שׁק tween the occurrence of could suggest a dependence of Deut 26:6 on P, a coincidental agreement, or a place where the first fruits credo of Deuteronomy has exercised some influence on the P tradition. 22 David M. Carr ;4:34) ( מ ו אר י ם ) ”and/or “terrors ,( תסמ ) ”trials“ ,( מ ו תפ י ם ) ”wonders“ ,( תא ו ת ) 26:8), sometimes with mention of them being done against Pharaoh and his house (6:22), or Pharaoh and all Egypt (7:18b)/his land (11:2–3)/all his servants and his entire land (34:11). No specific plague is ever mentioned36 and the focus in these Deuteronomy texts on Yahweh’s demonstration signs to Israel contrasts with the focus in the non-P (and P) texts on the plagues as demonstrations of Yahweh’s power to Pharaoh (e. g. Exod 7:17, 8:6, 18; 9:14, 29; cf. 5:2).37 Similar ambiguity attends the mention of mannah in the wilderness in Deut 8:3, 16, which could refer to a strand of Ex- odus 16, though it also could relate to the apparently independent tradition about mannah in Num 11:7–9 or another source. Otherwise, there is no mention in any stratum of Deuteronomy of the midwives (Exod 1:15– 22), the birth of Moses (2:1–10), the circumstances surrounding his departure from Egypt (2:11–15aba), or the sojourn in Midian (2:15bb–22), nor is there clear recollection of the murmering at Marah (15:22–27), a specific story of victory over Amalek (17:8–16), or the reunion with Jethro (18:1–12). Some of the above mentioned gaps certainly could be due to selectivity in what the authors of Deuteronomy found to be relevant for their purposes (e. g. Exod 18:1–12). Nevertheless, the contrast with the possible recollection of almost all post-Horeb events found in non-P portions of Numbers raises the question of how much of the non-P material prior to Exodus 18 was available to the authors of Deuteronomy. A maximal interpretation of this contrasting distribution would suggest that at least the latest of Deuteronomy’s authors knew parts of Exodus 1 and 3 and related materials in Exodus 18–24, 32–34, along with some form of the non-P Passover narrative that concludes in Exodus 12, a reed sea narrative and many of the non-P narratives appearing in Numbers. The main possible exception to the last case might be the general lack of back-references in Deuteronomy to materials in Numbers about Israel’s stay on the plains of Moab: the Balaam tradition of Num 22:4–24:25 and possibly the Baal- Peor story in Num 25:1–5*. If one wanted to depend on the often problematic criterion of potential readability, it is notable that the very materi-

without a ( דמ ו י ) Notably, in 7:15 and 28:60, Deuteronomy mentions “diseases” of Egypt 36 of Egypt שׁ יח ן ”more specific link to the plague narratives. Even the mention of the “boils in the curse in 28:27 lacks any explicit back-reference to the plague of boils in Exod 9:8– 12. 37 Specific assignment of these texts is disputed. As an example, they are distributed across all but the earliest (non-P) layers of Gertz’s analysis of this section of Exodus, including his earliest plague layer (see his chart on p. 395 of Exoduserza¨hlung). The Moses Story: Literary-Historical Reflections 23 als not obviously reflected in (most of) Deuteronomy38 also interrupt the movement from the taking of Jazer in Num 21:32 to the (potentially non- P) Reubenite and Gadites’ notice that the land of Jazer was good for their cattle (Num 32:1, 4–5). Whether one interprets the above-discussed back-references in Deuter- onomy maximally or minimally, the range and frequent specificity of back-references to the non-P Moses story in Deuteronomy radically contrast with the virtual absence of any such back-references to events narrated in Genesis – aside from the possible back-reference to Jacob’s fugitive status and descent into Egypt in Deut 26:5 and the mentions in Deuter- onomy and Joshua of an oath promise of land (and occasionally multiplication of offspring) to the “fathers”/Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Even if one understands the latter references to the oath promise to the fathers/three patriarchs to be original to Deuteronomy, which is a matter of significant question, they do not necessarily refer back to a form of the Genesis narrative that featured such a promise by oath. At most they require only a general knowledge on the part of the audience of a tradition of Yahweh’s promise to patriarchal ancestors.39 In sum, various layers of Deuteronomy review in highly variant ways a fairly specific group of narratives now found in other biblical books: 1) they are all in the Moses story (particularly the post-Sinai portions) and 2) they are all non-Priestly. The few possible echoes of P in Deuteronomy, such as the use in (the proto-MT) Deut 1:39 of vocabulary from the P version of the spy story Num 14:31), turn out to be pluses vis-a´-vis the Old// שׁר תרמא אם בל ז יהיה) Greek and likely harmonizing additions,40 while P-like materials such as Deut 10:6–9 are clearly late insertions in their contexts. Given the range of Deuteronomic reviews of various narratives, the lack of D back-references to Priestly material is significant. It forms one important confirming

38 Disobedience at Baal-Peor is only mentioned in the relatively late Deuteronomy 4 (Deut 4:3–4, also 4:46; but see Hos 9:10), and – as mentioned before – the Balaam tradition mentioned in Deut 23:4b does not bear a very clear connection to what is narrated now in Num 22:4–24:25. 39 N. Lohfink, Die Va¨ter Israels im Deuteronomium (OBO 111; Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1991), 34. The same can be said for the possible reference to a more ancient Jacob-Joseph story in Deut 26:5, which easily could have been known in separate form. 40 Cf. No¨ldeke, Untersuchungen, 2 (n. 1), who uses this as one of his prime arguments for the old form of the source hypothesis, where D was subsequent to P. 24 David M. Carr datum for arguments long advanced on other grounds for identification of P and non-P strands in Exodus through Numbers.41 The other form of Deuteronomic selectivity also may be significant: the exclusive focus in Deuteronomy on summarizing Moses narratives in contrast to the lack of such specific references to any narratives in Genesis. At most one finds the repeated, but (often) vague, references to Yahweh’s oath promise of land to the patriarchs (Deut 1:8, 35; 6:10, 18, 23; 7:12; et al.). This highly different treatment of Genesis and Moses Story traditions in Deuteronomy raises the question of what form the Genesis and Moses Story traditions were in when these reminiscences in Deuteronomy were composed. It is possible, as Noth proposes, that the non-P Tetrateuch in some form was the precursor to these parts of Deuteronomy whose authors only had interest in the specifics of some Moses story narratives. Perhaps given the highly situational character of each of the Deuterono- mistic reviews, the authors of the Deuteronomistic reminiscences never felt the occasion to link to a story in Genesis. Nevertheless, as noted above, they found occasion to refer to a fairly wide array of Moses story narratives. The lack of clear and specific reference in Deuteronomy to any Gen- esis story is therefore striking, and it suggests that the D reviews were composed in a time when Genesis and Exodus narratives were still separate, with the Genesis materials either not available to those authors or stood as a composition (or set of compositions) separate from the Moses story and – partly as a result – treated quite differently.42

41 Notably, one decisive indicator that the early source critics such as No¨ldeke were not using Deuteronomy as an implicit criterium for source-criticism strands is that these critics generally presupposed that D post-dated P. Indeed, No¨ldeke is quite clear in his discussion that he thinks the author of Deuteronomy had both strands in front of him. Only later, when Deuteronomy was taken as potentially earlier than P, did Deuteronomy become a potential indicator of the contours of the non-P Moses story. 42 This difference with regard to back-references to Genesis and the Moses story in Deu- teronomy is far more demonstrable than any alternation in back-references to putative J and E source documents (as posited by Baden [J, E and Redaction]) or selective back- references to E, as posited by M. Haran, The Canonization of the Scriptures and Forma- tion of History: The Deuteronomic Torah and Deuteronomistic Tradition (Hebrew), Vol. 2 of The Biblical Collection: Its Consolidation to the End of the Second Temple Times and Changes of Form to the End of the Middle Ages (Hebrew) (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2003). The Moses Story: Literary-Historical Reflections 25 V. The Linkage of non-P Moses Materials to What Precedes and Follows

We have thus gone as far as we can with data provided by separate manuscript traditions and scrolls (Deuteronomy and material it reviews). This material, however, has raised an acute question regarding the prehistory of the materials that precede Deuteronomy. If it is probable that the Moses and Genesis materials were still separate at an early stage of the composition of (parts of) Deuteronomy, when and how might they have been connected to each other? A potential answer to this question can be found in materials that build bridges between the Moses story and Genesis materials, some of which were mentioned briefly above. To be sure, some such bridges could be quite late secondary harmonizations/coordinations of Genesis and the Moses story, much like the documented harmonizations/coordinations of Deuteronomy and Exodus-Numbers documented in manuscript pluses of the Old Greek, “proto-Samaritan” and even proto-MT traditions. Never- theless, many of the texts that potentially link the non-P Moses story of Exodus-Numbers with material preceding and following it – e. g. Exod 3:1–4:17; 32:10–14; Num 14:11–21 – are themselves strikingly non- Priestly. Most interesting for our purposes may be a bridge of texts about Jo- seph’s bones that stretches from Genesis (50:24–26) through Exodus (13:19) to the conclusion of the Joshua story in Joshua 24 (especially Josh 24:32). Here again, despite a trend in recent scholarship to identify Joshua 24 as post-Priestly, the texts in this strand are strikingly non-Priestly in character, with their few potential/probable Priestly connections identifiable as redactional additions (e. g. Josh 24:32) or secondary harmonizations (e. g. possible P elements in Josh 24:6) of what are essentially non-P texts (i. e., Joshua 24:1–32*). In addition, this series of texts is hexateuchal in scope, leading from the sojourn in Egypt through the exodus to an ultimate conquest of the land and covenant at Shechem. Finally, the specifically compositional character of these materials is suggested by the fact that ת ו תר הלא י ם the Joshua 24 covenant features the creation and deposit of a (“torah of God” Josh 24:26), a seeming consecration in the story world of the composition containing this narrative. As others have pointed out, these indicators together would seem to point to compositional intervention binding the Genesis, Moses story and Deuteronomy–Joshua materials into a probable non-P hextateuchal composition, a “Torah of God,” selec- 26 David M. Carr tively reviewed and mythologized in Joshua’s covenant at Shechem in Josh 24:1–32*.43 The extent and coherence of this compositional layer, to be sure, is and will be debated without definitive resolution. E. Blum posits a relatively circumscribed Joshua 24-layer comprised primarily of just these texts (Gen 50:24–26; Exod 13:19; Joshua 24).44 K. Schmid sees Joshua 24 as sharing a number of characteristics with Genesis 15; Exod 3:1–4:18 and the bridge between Genesis and Exodus, characteristics that lead him to see these texts as parts of a common redactional layer.45 J. Van Seters assigns the bulk of these texts along with many others to an exilic, pre-Priestly “J.”46 I myself see noteworthy resemblances in a series of texts secondarily added to non-P parts of the Hexateuch, resemblances including their conquest focus, emphasis on promise of the land as oath, and overall orientation toward Deuteronomy (e. g. Gen 50:24–26; Exod 3:1–4:18*; 13:19; 32:9–14; Num 14:11–21; Josh 24:1–32). These resemblances and their identifiable secondary character lead me to see these texts as identifiable parts of a broader non-P hexateuchal compositional layer responsible for linking originally separate non-P proto-Genesis, Moses Story, and Deuteronomy– Joshua* compositions. I acknowledge that these texts often have different themes and emphases, but I do not see these differences as insurmountable obstacles to seeing them as part of a common compositional stratum.47 The extent to which one expansively or narrowly defines this hexateuchal compositional layer depends on the extent to which one deems it helpful or possible to differentiate between fine textual strata on the basis of differences in emphasis and terminology. Nevertheless, the existence of some sort of hexateuchal layer concluding in Joshua 24 seems likely to be a persistent feature in future biblical scholarship. Moreover, this compositional stratum is the one non-Priestly layer that most demonstrably binds the Moses story with what precedes and follows, including an intervention at the very end of Genesis (Gen 50:24–26) and the most explicit review in

43 See esp. E. Blum, “Der kompositionelle Knoten am U¨ bergang von Josua zu Richter. Ein Entflechtungsvorschlag,” in Deuteronomy and Deuteronomic Literature: FS Brekelmans (ed. M. Vervenne and J. Lust; BETL 133; Leuven: Peeters, 1997), 203–205. 44 E. Blum, “Die literarische Verbindung von Erzva¨tern und Exodus. Ein Gespra¨ch mit neueren Endredaktionshypothesen,” in Abschied vom Jahwisten: Die Komposition des Hexateuch in der ju¨ngsten Diskussion (ed. J.C. Gertz, K. Schmid, and M. Witte; BZAW 315; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2002), 153–154. 45 Schmid, Erzva¨ter und Exodus, 241–250 [Eng. 224–233], with consideration of a few additional potential elements on pp. 250–252 [Eng. 233–236]. 46 Van Seters, Life of Moses. 47 I discuss these texts and problems at more length in Formation of the Hebrew Bible, 255– 282. The Moses Story: Literary-Historical Reflections 27 Joshua 24 of events in both the ancestral and Moses narratives. Further- more, whether one defines this layer broadly or narrowly, its general non- Priestly character and occurrence in exclusively non-Priestly contexts is conspicuous. This layer does not obviously bind or coordinate Priestly texts in the Moses story with what precedes and follows. If the above proposition is true that the possible Priestly links of texts in this layer are secondary extensions and/or harmonizations (e. g. Josh 24:33), then the distribution of these texts in non-Priestly contexts would seem to suggest that the series of texts in Gen 50:24–26; Exod 13:19; and Josh 24:1–32* along with others sharing similar scope and characteristics (e. g. Genesis 15; Exod 3:1–4:18*; 32:9–14*; Deut 14:11–21) are specifically pre-Priestly, and their lack of linkage (on an early level) with Priestly texts is a result of the fact that Priestly texts were not part of the hexateuchal composition into which these hexateuchal-compositional-layer texts were inserted. Fur- ther individual analysis of problems of direction of dependence are not possible in an essay of this scope. Nevertheless, contrary to some recent analyses, I suggest that several texts in this series show strong signs of being prior to their Priestly counterparts (e. g. Exod 3:1–4:18 vis-a´-vis 6:2–8), and this would stand as confirming evidence for the pre-Priestly character of this Hexateuchal compositional layer.48 Notably, the Priestly layer, as mentioned above, is itself specifically hexateuchal in scope. Whether or not one identifies all P-like elements of Numbers–Joshua as redactional or part of the PG source, it is clear that such P-like texts are generally absent from the following books of Samuel and Kings. As hinted above, an originally separate PG source may have extended in some form to include some kind of land-occupation narrative, mirroring the hexateuchal scope of its pre-P hexateuchal precursor. But whether or not one finds this proposal persuasive, at the very least, the hexateuchal scope of the “Torah of God” ending in Joshua 24 seems to have defined the limits of the activity of the authors who combined the P and non-P materials with each other and those authors who enhanced the whole with various layers of P-like material. Indeed, the very last verse of the Hexateuch, the death and burial report for Eleazar in Josh 24:33, is a P-

48 For example, the intense and specific appropriation of prophetic motifs, particularly from Jeremiah, in Exod 3:1–4:18 becomes a blind motif characterizing Moses and Aar- on’s relationship in Exod 6:2–8, pointing to the likelihood that Exod 6:2–8 gained these faint echoes of prophetic motifs from Exod 3:1–4:18 rather than the other way around (as per, for example, Schmid, Erzva¨ter und Exodus, 197–209 [Eng. 182–193] and [for the bulk of Exod 3:1–4:18] see also Gertz, Exoduserza¨hlung, 281–317; cf. Carr, Formation of the Hebrew Bible, 140–143). 28 David M. Carr like redactional addition that mimics and extends the model of preceding death and burial reports for Joshua and Joseph (24:29–32).

VI. The Question of Books

Another place to look for signs of the later formation of the Moses story is the conclusion of the scrolls constituting it, since it was particularly easy in transmission for scribes to add new portions to the ends of such scrolls. If someone wanted to write a new introduction or portion of the middle, they generally had to rewrite the scroll as a whole. We have documentation of such revision, but it generally occurred as part of a more general and ambitious reconceptualization of the whole document.49 In contrast, it was easier for scribes simply to add a few elements to the remaining room in the column of the last leaf of a scroll or even to sew some extra portions onto an existing scroll to make a more extensive addition. And this may explain why so many biblical books, such as Joshua, Samuel, Kings, Isaiah, Ezekiel, Psalms, Job, and Ecclesiastes, seem to have relatively late elements appended to their conclusions.50 Indeed, it is one indicator that the tradents of books such as Samuel and Kings originally conceived such works as coherent, not two-part wholes, and thus did not insert a similar series of appendices onto the ends of 1 Samuel and 1 Kings. Such appendix-like materials appear at several junctures in the Moses story: the law regarding vows that is appended to the end of Leviticus (Le- viticus 27) using resumptive repetition; a series of appendix-like materials in the Priestly material of Numbers 1:1–10:10 (particularly Numbers 5– 10); and especially the various and quite late Priestly materials clustered toward the end of the book of Numbers (e. g. Numbers 33–36). It is of course possible that such materials were added at points understood as conceptual breaks in the narrative, even if they were not originally scroll endings. Nevertheless, the clustering of such appendix-like materials may be indicators of where scrolls once ended at different stages of the tradition. Thus, the clustering of Priestly appendices in Numbers 5–10 may mark an ancient scroll-break in the Priestly tradition, a break dividing the Priestly narrative up through Sinai from the Priestly material that followed. Leviticus 27 represents an appendix-like addition to Leviticus when

49 On this, see the excellent study of the phenomenon of added introductions in S. Mil- stein, Revision Through Introduction in Biblical and Mesopotamian Literature (Ph.Diss., New York: New York University, 2010), in the process of revision for publication. 50 Note also the documented late additions to Community Rule traditions and the descent of the Ishtar portion of the Gilgamesh epic. The Moses Story: Literary-Historical Reflections 29 Leviticus had started to be recognized as a separate scroll. Most significantly, the much more plentiful Priestly and even post-Priestly additions to the end of Numbers (and relative lack of such additions at the end of Exodus and Leviticus aside from Leviticus 27) may mean that the material of Exodus–Leviticus–Numbers was transmitted for a significant period of time on a single scroll and/or understood to one “book.” As pointed out most extensively by Koorevaar, the narratives of Exodus–Numbers are inextricably connected to each other in their character groupings, narrated events (e. g. tabernacle and priestly ordination across Exodus–Leviticus), and grammatical linkages. However much we now understand Exodus– Numbers as three books, they appear once to have been conceptually and perhaps even materially a single book. The late/post-Priestly appendices at the end of Numbers were added there because that scroll was understood to end there and represent a decisive seam in the tradition.51 In this way, we see echoes of the above-discussed fracture between Deuteronomy and the material that precedes it even in the late-Priestly or post-Priestly phases of composition of the Moses story. By this point, it is highly likely that Moses’ last address to Israel in Deuteronomy was understood to be part of a broader narrative consisting of some P/non-P form of Genesis–Numbers. Conceptually, Deuteronomy now formed part of a corpus beginning in Genesis. Nevertheless, if the above suppositions are correct, tradents still transmitted Deuteronomy on a separate scroll from Ex- odus–Leviticus–Numbers and felt freest to add materials at the break that separated Deuteronomy from the scroll(s) preceeding it. In sum, I suggest that we should conceive of the transmission of the Moses tradition on two scrolls for a significant period of time in which that tradition was subject to Priestly and post-Priestly revision. Only at a relatively late stage and likely for technical reasons (having to do with the unwieldy size of the ever expanding P/non-P Exodus–Numbers tradition) were the materials now in Exodus–Numbers moved onto three separate scrolls, such that we see a brief and isolated appendix to Leviticus in Le- viticus 27 (or possibly a set of appendices in 25–27). Even then, judging from evidence at Qumran, these materials in Exodus–Numbers sometimes were transmitted together on the same scroll. Only toward the latter half and possibly the end of the Second Temple period did the present five-fold division of the Pentateuch achieve such a dominant position that it could .(five books) מוח שׁ/be referred to in many rabbinic writings as the chumash

51 H.J. Koorevaar, “The Books of Exodus, Leviticus and Numbers, and the Macro-Struc- tural Problem of the Pentateuch,” in The Books of Leviticus and Numbers (ed. T. Ro¨mer; BETL 215; Leuven: Peeters, 2008), 423–453. 30 David M. Carr VII. Concluding Overview and Reflections

The above investigation delineates what I judge to be the six most reconstructable stages in the formation of the Moses story. The process began with the writing of at least one pre-D form of the non-P Moses story. Pre- cisely because it is the earliest and most distant phase of composition, it is the most difficult to reconstruct precisely. The contours of this pre-D Moses story (or stories) may to some extent be reconstructable through the highly refracted lens(es) of various Deuteronomistic reminiscences.52 Nevertheless, it is difficult to know the extent to which the character and scope of D reminiscences is an accurate reflection of the original proportions of such a Moses story (or one of them) or merely an outgrowth of the particular interests of the author(s) of these reminiscences. I have made a few tentative suggestions regarding the potential contours of some kind of E-like Moses tradition on which some authors of Deuteronomy might have been dependent. Nevertheless, this approach could just represent a form of contemporary hyper-harmonization (of Exodus–Numbers by way of radical subtraction to Deuteronomy) that would make the Second Temple forms of augmenting harmonization pale by comparison (see this discussion above). Moreover, this quite tentatively proposed pre-D Moses story is decisively not the “E” Moses story posited in the nineteenth century, since it lacks a series of texts that were formerly assigned to E, such as the tent of meeting texts in Exod 33:7–11 et al., the despoiling of Egyptians in Exod 11:1–3, links to the Joseph commission in Exod 50:24–25, and Joshua 24. This latter series of texts seems neither presupposed in Deuter- onomy nor residual from a pre-D Moses narrative. Instead, they share numerous characteristics that lead me to identify them as common parts of a post-D hexateuchal compositional layer (see the discussion of this layer above). The second stage that I posit in the development of the Moses story would be the framing of Deuteronomy as a final speech of Moses and gradual augmentation of Deuteronomy with Moses speeches that review earlier events in his life. The LXX of Deut 6:4 may preserve a remnant of a prior stage of Deuteronomy where its laws were framed as “the decrees which Yahweh commanded the sons of Israel in the desert, having brought

52 Here I find W. Johnstone’s reflections interesting (esp. his “The Use of Reminiscences in Deuteronomy in Recovering the Two Main Literary Phases in the Production of the Pentateuch,” in Abschied vom Jahwisten: Die Komposition des Hexateuch in der ju¨ngsten Diskussion [ed. J.C. Gertz, K. Schmid, and M. Witte; BZAW 315; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2002], 247–273) along with Baden’s implicit use of Deuteronomy for source stratification in much of J, E and Redaction, 106–188. The Moses Story: Literary-Historical Reflections 31 them out of the land of Egypt,”53 but already the non-LXX manuscript traditions appear to have suppressed this divine framing of the D legislation in favor of the Mosaic framing elements in Deut 1:1; 4:1; 6:1 and elsewhere. Most importantly, this Mosaic figure of Deuteronomy is gradually given speeches that appear based on yet freely related to some of the non-P narratives now found in Exodus and Numbers. As discussed previously, from Deuteronomy 1–3(ff.) these largely non-verbatim reviews do not appear originally to have been intended to stand in the same narrative stream as the stories undergirding them. Instead, they rehearse the stories about Moses as if they had not been previously narrated and often diverge from them in ways that would trouble later tradents who confronted D reviews as part of a continuation of Exodus and Numbers. The third major proposed stage in the formation of the Moses story was the combination of (this “Mosaicly”-framed) Deuteronomy (probably in combination with Joshua) with at least two other scrolls: some form of a story of Moses and some form of a non-P proto-Genesis. The result was a Moses-focused Hexateuch that probably concluded with Joshua’s covenant at Shechem in Joshua 24*. Notably, as with many documented forms of textual combination, this joining almost certainly involved elimination of some parts of the combined documents, in this case at least the elimination of parts of the non-P Moses story that once concluded the non-P story of Moses found in Numbers. Why should one posit the existence of such eliminated (Moses) material that we no longer have? First of all, however one conceives of the process of the gradual extension of the book of Numbers, it is difficult to reconstruct an original ending to that book that would have stood independently of Deuteronomy(ff.). The march of the Israelites toward the land seems to presuppose some kind of arrival, the conquest and distribution of the Transjordan toward the end of Num- bers seems to require the conquest and distribution of the west Jordan in Joshua, the life of Moses across Exodus–Numbers needs to come to a conclusion, and so on. Moreover, because of the non-conformity of Numbers with Deuteronomy (and vice versa) as reviewed above, it is as implausible to suppose that the narratives of Numbers were written with Deuteronomy in mind as it is to suppose that the book of Deuteronomy was written with Exodus and Numbers in mind. Rather, at least some portions of Numbers (all of them non-P) and Deuteronomy seem to represent what were origi-

53 A.F. Puukko, Das Deuteronomium (Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs, 1910), 149 n. 2; J. Hempel, Die Schichten des Deuteronomiums: Ein Beitrag zur israelitischen Literatur- und Rechts- geschichte (Beitra¨ge zur Kultur- und Universalgeschichte 33; Leipzig: Voigtla¨nder, 1914), 124 (with n. 1); Carr, Formation of the Hebrew Bible, 147 n. 110. 32 David M. Carr nally separate compositions that were secondarily combined with each other. At the same time, the truncated character of Numbers suggests that some part of that original composition was eliminated in the process of this combination. Another pointer, originally observed by Noth, is the fact that the narration of the death of Moses outside the land now found in D/P form at the end of Deuteronomy presupposes an idea of the Jordan as a land boundary that contradicts the West-East Jordan concept found in Deuteronomy and Joshua itself. According to Noth, this incongruence suggests that the narration in Deuteronomy 34 is based on a now missing death report of Moses outside the land that was once a continuation of the (non-P) materials now found in Numbers.54 We cannot know what shape the continuation of such non-P materials once had. For example, it is impossible to reconstruct a pre-D narrative of the death of Moses or identify a pre-D arrival/conquest narrative. Nevertheless, much as an amputee sometimes feels sensations of their missing limbs, there are faint indicators in Numbers and Deuteronomy of the prior existence of a now missing conclusion of the pre-D Exodus*/Numbers* Moses story, a conclusion eliminated in the process of what was both a conceptual and literary combination of that story with Deuteronomy(–Joshua). The fourth reconstructed stage of the growth of the Moses story was the writing of some sort of separate Priestly source, one that extended at least from Genesis through the tabernacle account and likely well beyond. By this point, the Moses story was thoroughly bound together with the Gene- sis materials, with the events at Sinai now depicted not as an independent covenant but rather as an outgrowth of the covenant first made with Abraham, and with the Moses story explicitly coordinated with the prime- val and patriarchal periods as times when people knew God by different names (Exod 6:2–3). Yet even as these Priestly materials so explicitly span the Genesis and Moses story materials and coordinate them with each other, they still mirror in their very structure some of the above-discussed posited divisions in their non-P precursor documents, especially the division between a proto-Genesis composition on the one hand and a pre-P Moses story on the other. For example, Priestly materials in Genesis may integrally link with Moses story materials that follow, but they are struc- turally defined in the P layer as part of a “toledot” book that surveys the generations preceding the time of Moses.55 Similarly, the Priestly Moses story materials show multiple links back to Priestly materials of Genesis,

54 M. Noth, “Israelitische Sta¨mme zwischen Ammon und Moab,” ZAW 19 (1944): 19–21. 55 D.M. Carr, Reading the Fractures of Genesis: Historical and Literary Approaches (Louis- ville: Westminster John Knox, 1996), 120–121. The Moses Story: Literary-Historical Reflections 33 yet the P Moses story features a beginning (Exod 1:1–5) that almost sounds like the beginning of a scroll: a rehearsal and repetition of the roll of Israelites who descended into Egypt. Moreover, the broader P Moses story is organized by a pre- and post-Sinai itinerary structure rather than by the toledot framework that covered Genesis.56 In these and other ways the original divisions between pre-P portions of the Pentateuch continue to echo in the literary stratum of P that manifestly joins the Moses story with materials that precede it. Indeed, given the above-noted indicators, it is likely, in my view, that the original P document was transmitted on separate scrolls: a “scroll of the toledot of Adam” (Gen 5:1) and one or more scrolls (beginning with material preserved in Exod 1:1–5) comprised primarily of events during Moses’ lifetime. As mentioned above, the Priestly appendices at the end of the (P) Sinai narrative in Numbers 5–10 may indicate that the P Moses story was transmitted on two scrolls, one beginning in Exod 1:1–5 and one beginning with the post-Sinai material, but certainty on this count is particularly difficult to obtain. In the fifth stage of the formation of the Moses story, this Priestly material was combined with the non-P Hexateuch on which it was modeled and which it was originally designed to replace, and the combined P/non- P document seems to have received yet further Priestly expansions, whether at its conclusion (Josh 24:33) or throughout its middle. As in the case of the combination of Deuteronomy–Joshua with the Moses story, a loss of material almost certainly occurred at this stage, including non-P material about the construction of the ark (reflected in Num 10:33–36 and Deut 10:2b [cf. Exod 34:1]).57 Of course, lacking separate copies of the source documents, we can do no more than speculate on the specifics of such matters, but we are on sure ground to suppose that such elimination of both P and non-P material took place. The fact that so much relatively continuous P and non-P material is present in parts of the Moses story (e. g. the plagues and Reed sea narrative) is a lucky happenstance that strengthens the hypothesis that those materials once existed independent-

56 F.M. Cross, Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic; Essays in the History of the Religion of Is- rael (Cambridge: Harvard University, 1973), 308; and J. Milgrom, Numbers (Philadel- phia: Jewish Publication Society, 1990), xvi. 57 Note also the suggestive discussion by H. Gressmann of yet other indicators that traditions surrounding the ark once stood as the counterpoint to the building of the golden calf (Mose und seine Zeit [Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1913], 218), the original contents of the tent of meeting (Mose, 240–246), and the object around which Mose’s negotiations in Exodus 33; 34:5b–9 and Num 10:29–36 revolve (Mose, 319–337). Here we probably do have indirect indicators of elements of the non-P narrative on which the P tabernacle material was (in part) modeled, but which are no longer present in our ex- tant non-P materials. 34 David M. Carr ly, but full preservation of conflated source documents is neither documented elsewhere nor to be expected in this instance. Notably, however, even as the redactors and augmentors of the P/non-P document eliminated some material in the process of combining sources into a coherent historical overview up to occupation of the land, they seem to have preserved several basic divisions in the narrative, such as the narrative and scroll break between Genesis(ff.) along with the break between Deuteronomy and what precedes it. As suggested above, there are several signs that the integrated narrative in Exodus–Numbers may have been conceived as a unit and even transmitted together up to a relatively late period. But even at the stage of P/non-P transmission we still see ripples reflecting the seams of older separate non-P proto-Genesis, Moses, and Deuteronomy– Joshua documents. As for the sixth stage, I have discussed a series of even later documented modifications of the Moses story, most of which attempted to bridge the remaining seams between its parts, particularly the perceived disjunctions between narratives in Exodus and Numbers and the seeming reviews of them in Deuteronomy. These modifications, however, were not the only ones. For example, as discussed above, there are signs that the proto-MT version of Deut 27:4–7 is the result of an anti-Samaritan modification of the text from describing the building of an altar on Gerizim to one on Mt. Ebal. If such a change occurred in this way, and there is a question about that, it would be associated with the Hasmoneans and represent quite marginal revisions of an otherwise quite ancient tradition preserved in the proto-MT. By this point, apparently, the story of Moses tradition became quite fixed, at least in the authorized, proto-MT (Hasmonean?) stream. More expansionist and coordinating additions are attested in the Old Greek tradition as well as in the expansionist pentateuchal manuscript stream that includes both the Samaritan Pentateuch and a number of (“proto-Samaritan”) manuscripts at Qumran with similar coordinating additions. Otherwise, more radical reconceptualizations of the Moses story material, e. g. 4QRP and 11QTemple, did not end up in ongoing transmission streams. Finally, it is not clear at what point in the above-described process that the Moses story along with Genesis was split off from Joshua and made into a supremely authoritative pentateuchal “Torah of Moses.” This move likely post-dated the composition and combination of P and non-P materials, since those materials both extend in some form into the Hexateuch. Moreover, there is an array of late Persian period/Hellenistic references to the “Torah of Moses” (e. g. Mal 3:22; Dan 9:11, 13; Ezra 3:2; 7:6; Neh 8:1; 2 Chr 23:18; 30:16), some of which may have the broader Pentateuch in The Moses Story: Literary-Historical Reflections 35 mind. In using such terminology, these later Judean texts take up language used in earlier periods to refer more narrowly to the Deuteronomic Torah (e. g. Josh 8:31–32; 1 Kgs 2:3; 2 Kgs 14:6; 23:25). Nevertheless, at the latest by the time of Ben Sira’s “Praise to the Fathers” that clearly distinguishes the Pentateuch from other Scriptural texts, the older idea of a “Torah of Moses” has expanded to encompass and separate the books of Genesis– Deuteronomy from all other inspired books.58 This gradual formation of a specifically pentateuchal “Torah” may have been accompanied by the writing of parts of Deuteronomy 34, as has been proposed by some recent studies, though this chapter could, in my view, be dated to earlier periods as well.59 Nevertheless, I believe we would be mistaken to presuppose the creation of the Pentateuch through a substantial and broad “pentateuchal redaction.” Rather, it appears that the recognition of a “Pentateuch” was so late a move that it was less a compositional move than a definitional move. It was not a question of deeply shaping or modifying the tradition, but of defining it. In the end, Judaism defined and sanctified what is essentially a story about the formation of Israel defined by the scope of Moses’ life along with a prologue in Genesis. In this creation of a pentateuchal “Torah,” we see yet another example of the return of ancient precursors in later formulations. I have already stressed ways in which later literary layers (e. g. P and our combined P/ non-P Hexateuch) likely reflect older divisions between literary precursors (proto-Genesis, a non-P Moses story, Deuteronomy along with Joshua). Moreover, I have suggested that tradents at several stages felt compelled to add elements from Deuteronomy into the Moses story, whether in the process of forming a post-D Hexateuch (e. g. Exod 32:10–14 that harmonizes Exodus 32 with Deuteronomy 9–10) or in later additions of coordinating additions to expansionist pentateuchal manuscripts at Qumran and the Samaritan Pentateuch (e. g. Exod 32:9 [missing in the LXX] that in- serts Deut 9:13 into Exodus 32). The eventual Jewish centering on a “Torah of Moses” represented yet another way in which the books of Gen- esis–Numbers (and by exclusion, Joshua) came to be received under the rubric of terminology and conceptuality whose original home was Deuter-

58 A. Goshen-Gottstein, “Ben Sira’s Praise of the Fathers – a Canon-Conscious Reading,” in Ben Sira’s God: Proceedings of the International Ben Sira Conference (Durham 2001) (ed. R. Egger-Wenzel; BZAW 321; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2001), 244–249. 59 See particularly T. Ro¨mer and M. Brettler, “Deuteronomy 34 and the Case for a Persian Hexateuch,” JBL 119 (2000): 401–19; and K. Schmid, “The Late Persian Formation of the Torah: Observations on Deuteronomy 34,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century BCE (ed. O. Lipschits, G. Knoppers, and R. Albertz; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 237–251; cf. Carr, Formation of the Hebrew Bible, 271–273. 36 David M. Carr onomy. This inclusion of the books of the Pentateuch under the (originally Deuteronomic) rubric of “Torah” may have been prompted partially by the totalitarian ideological claims of Deuteronomy itself (e. g. Deut 4:1; 5:1; 6:1–9, 20–25; 7:9–11; 8:1; 11:1, 8–9, 13–28, 31–32) and the unusually strong influence of Deuteronomy across Second Temple Judaism, partially by Persian-period privileging of cultic law over narrative and/or Persian anxiety about the conquest narrative, and perhaps partially by a wish to pose Moses as the Judean cultural counterpart and worthy contrast to the Greek Homer. It is difficult to know. In the end, the present Pentateuch is a literary construct with likely roots in an originally separate Moses story, augmented through the addition of material both preceding (forms of Genesis) and following (forms of Deuteronomy) it, rewritten and enriched with substantial amounts of Priestly material, and modified and finally re- conceptualized through a Deuteronomistic lens.

David M. Carr Professor of Old Testament/Hebrew Bible Union Theological Seminary in New York 3041 Broadway New York, NY 10027 [email protected] Erhard Blum

Der historische Mose und die Fru¨hgeschichte Israels

Walter Groß collegae dilectissimo septuagenario

The ‘Life of Moses’ is beyond the range of historiography. Nevertheless, several elements of the Moses traditions rooted in the northern Israelite heritage probably go back to the earliest history of (Proto-) Israel, partly even to a figure called ‘Moses’ or to groups in the realm of its Wirkung. These elements are mainly the name ‘Moses’ itself and the Exodus tradition on the one hand, Moses’ relations to Midian and the tradition which relates the god YHWH to Teman/Seir on the other hand. With regard to the last aspect, the epigraphic evidence from Kuntillet Ajrud proves to be of major importance. Die Person des Mose bleibt einer historischen Rekonstruktion, die diesen Namen verdient, entzogen. Dies ist kein Urteil u¨ber die Historizita¨t der Mosegestalt, sondern eine Feststellung zur Quellenlage und eine Aner- kenntnis der Grenzen der historischen Analyse. Gleichwohl beha¨lt die Frage nach dem „historischen Mose“ ihr Recht. Zwar du¨rfte mit einschla¨- gigen ‚direkten‘ Quellen auch in Zukunft kaum zu rechnen sein, doch bleibt fu¨r die historische Ru¨ckfrage immerhin der Weg zu erkunden, welche U¨ berlieferungen der biblischen Tradition wie nahe an die mutmaßli- che Mosegestalt und damit an Aspekte der Vor- und Fru¨hgeschichte des alten Israel heranfu¨hren ko¨nnen. Eben darin liegt denn auch die prima¨re Bedeutung historischer Hypothesenbildungen zu Mose: nicht in einem tatsa¨chlich oder vermeintlich gesicherten Urteil u¨ber das eine oder andere Datum zur Person des Mose, sondern in dem Versuch, Kla¨rungen u¨ber formative geschichtliche Prozesse bei der Genese Israels und die daraus erwachsene Traditionsbildung herbeizufu¨hren. Die mo¨glichen Ansatzpunkte innerhalb der biblischen Tradition und darauf bezogene Quellen und Daten liegen seit Jahrzehnten nahezu unver- a¨ndert auf dem Tisch. Es sind dies (1) der Name des Mose, damit zusammenha¨ngend: (2) der historische Hintergrund der Exodusu¨berlieferung, (3) die Tradition von Moses midianitischer Verschwa¨gerung und damit

HeBAI 1 (2012), 37–63 ISSN 2192-2276 © 2012 Mohr Siebeck 38 Erhard Blum zusammenha¨ngend: (4) die religionsgeschichtliche Rekonstruktion der Anfa¨nge der JHWH-Verehrung in Israel. Was sich vera¨ndert, und dies in den letzten Jahrzehnten vielleicht in deutlicheren Zuspitzungen als fru¨her, sind zum einen die literargeschichtlichen Analysen der biblischen Quellen, zum anderen die (oft stillschwei- gend) supponierten Korrelationen von Texten, Traditionen und ‚realer‘ Geschichte.

I. Der Mose-Name

-gilt seit der Mitte des 19. Jahrhunderts als a¨gypti ( השמ ) ‘Der Name ‚Mose schen Ursprungs,1 eine Herleitung, zu der es bislang keine u¨berzeugende Alternative gibt. Na¨herhin ist er als Kurzform eines theophoren Namens nach der Art von ‚Thutmose‘ oder ‚Achmose‘ zu sehen und etymologisch von einem Verb ms´j mit der Bedeutung „geba¨ren/zeugen“ abzuleiten. Als philologisch nicht ganz einfach erweist sich dabei die Erkla¨rung der he- braïschen Form mo¯ˇse, insbesondere die Wiedergabe des a¨gyptischen Sibi- lanten mit ˇs anstelle eines s, wie es beispielsweise in der hebraïschen -vgl. Ex 1,11) belegt ist. Schon J.G. Griffi) ססמער :‘Schreibung von ‚Ramses ths hat den Befund nach dem Vorgang von W.F. Albright mit unterschiedlichen Transkriptionen des a¨gyptischen s-Lautes im 2. Jahrtausend bzw. im 1. Jahrtausend v. Chr. (und mit unterschiedlichen Aneignungen fremder Namen im Hebraïschen) erkla¨rt.2 Noch pointierter verbindet E.A. Knauf den Befund mit einer „kanaanaïschen Lautverschiebung“ zum An- fang des 1. Jahrtausends v. Chr., in deren Folge a¨gyptisches /s/ hebraïsch wiedergegeben worden sei.3 Diese These ist, soweit ich sehe, in der ס mit Sache bislang unwidersprochen geblieben.4 Gleichwohl scheint Manfred

1 R. Lepsius, Die Chronologie der Aegypter. Einleitung und erster Theil: Kritik der Quel- len, Berlin: Nicolaische Buchhandlung, 1849, 325f Anm. 5; aus der neueren Lit. beispiel- haft: W.H. Schmidt, Exodus (BK II/1), Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1974– 1988, 73f.; H. Donner, Geschichte des Volkes Israel und seiner Nachbarn in Grundzu¨gen. Teil 1: Von den Anfa¨ngen bis zur Staatenbildungszeit (GAT 4/1), Go¨ttingen: Vandenho- eck & Ruprecht, 32000, 125f; M. Gerhards, Die Aussetzungsgeschichte des Mose. Literar- und traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zu einem Schlu¨sseltext des nichtpriester- schriftlichen Tetrateuch (WMANT 109), Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 2006, 137f. mit weiterer Lit. 2 J.G. Griffiths, The Egyptian Derivation of the Name Moses, in: JNES 12 (1953), 225–231, hier bes. 231. 3 E.A. Knauf, Midian. Untersuchungen zur Geschichte Pala¨stinas und Nordarabiens am Ende des 2. Jahrtausends v. Chr. (ADPV), Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1988, 105. 4 M. Go¨rg, Die Beziehungen zwischen dem alten Israel und A¨ gypten. Von den Anfa¨ngen bis zum Exil (EdF 290), Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1997, 143f; ders., Der historische Mose und die Fru¨hgeschichte Israels 39 Go¨rg eine innerisraelitische Vera¨nderung des Mosenamens von mose zu mosˇe zu pra¨ferieren. Diese Vera¨nderung sei mit der sekunda¨ren Eintra- gung einer hebraïschen Erkla¨rung des Mosenamens (mit dem Verbum in eine mutmaßliche ku¨rzere Fassung der Geburtsgeschichte in Ex ( השמ *2,1–10 erfolgt. Allerdings bleibt nicht nur diese postulierte „Grundfas- sung“ der Episode ohne exegetischen Ausweis, die Annahme, wonach die aQt_a den zu erkla¨renden Sachverhalt generiert ha¨tte, wu¨rde zudem die Logik a¨tiologischer U¨ berlieferungen auf den Kopf stellen. Vielmehr war es umgekehrt die Mo¨glichkeit einer hebraïschen Namenserkla¨rung, die eine Rezeption der Aussetzungsmotivik nahelegte, zumal sich damit nicht nur authentisches Lokalkolorit (Nil, Papyrus etc.)5 zwanglos verbinden ließ, sondern vor allem auch eine schlu¨ssige Gestaltung der Geschichte von Moses Geburt als Klimax der Bedrohung Israels durch Pharao. Die Episode ist denn auch ganz auf ihren Kontext hin gestaltet. Dies zeigt insbesondere die dramatische Entsprechung zwischen dem Vernichtungsbefehl Pharaos in 1,22: „Jeden neugeborenen Knaben [scil. der Hebraër] – in den Nil sollt ihr ihn werfen!“ und dem Ho¨hepunkt in 2,6, als ausgerechnet Pharaos Tochter im Nil stehend (!) erkennt, dass sie einen hebraïschen Saügling in der Hand ha¨lt. Dazu geho¨rt aber auch schon die mit 1,15 einsetzende Rolleninszenierung, in der die pharaonische Vernichtungsstrategie auf die ma¨nnlichen Hebraërkinder fokussiert bleibt, ebenso wie deren Vereitelung auf a¨gyptische und israelitische Frauen: die Hebammen, Moses Mutter und Schwester bis hin zu Pharaos eigener Tochter. Insbesondere die zweimalige, aus der Genozidabsicht nicht erkla¨rliche ausdru¨ckliche Anordnung, die weiblichen Hebraërkinder zu verscho- nen (1,16bb. 21bb: „aber jede Tochter sollt ihr am Leben lassen“), besta¨tigt die bewusste Profilierung dieses Erza¨hlungszuges; im U¨ brigen schafft sie die Voraussetzung fu¨r das Auftreten von Moses Schwester.6

Mose – Name und Namenstra¨ger. Versuch einer historischen Anna¨herung, in: E. Otto (Hg.), Mose. A¨ gypten und das Alte Testament (SBS 189), Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibel- werk, 2000, 17–42, hier 23f. Vgl. zuletzt Gerhards, aaO., 139–141. 5 Dazu bspw. Schmidt, Exodus (s. Anm. 1), 69f. 6 In dieser Linie kann auch die aufs No¨tigste verknappte Statistenrolle des Familienvaters (2,1) erza¨hlerisch nicht u¨berraschen. Ha¨lt man sich von daher an die Hauptprotagonisten, so sind deren Auftreten und der jeweilige Handlungsort in 1,22–2,10 konzentrisch um den dramatischen Ho¨hepunkt in 2,6 herum gruppiert: Pharao To¨tungsbefehl (Vater+)Mutter Geburt und Verbergen Mutter Nilufer Aussetzung Schwester Beobachten Pharaos Tochter am/im Nil Entdeckung + Schwester Vermittlung + Mutter Auftrag zum Stillen Mutter Heranwachsen Pharaos Tochter Adoption + Namensgebung Die offensichtliche Gestaltung der Erza¨hlungssubstanz als Ho¨hepunkt der in Ex 1 einsetzenden Handlung schließt m. E. die Aufnahme einer vorformulierten „eigensta¨ndi- 40 Erhard Blum

Dass dem Erza¨hler die Aussetzungsmotivik in Gestalt der verbreiteten Sargon-Sage7 bekannt war, ist mo¨glich, auch wenn sich spezifische Parallelen auf die funktionellen Ele- mente des Binsenko¨rbchens und dessen Abdichtung beschra¨nken.8 Nichts zeigt jedoch an, dass er die Sargongeschichte bewusst als Folie benutzt und deren Kenntnis bei seinen Rezipienten vorausgesetzt ha¨tte.9 Die sprachgeschichtliche Erkla¨rung der biblischen Namensform von ‚Mose‘ nach Knauf hat nun gleichermaßen exegetische wie historische Im- plikationen: Wurden in der israelitisch juda¨ischen Ko¨nigszeit entspre- ,ausgesprochen ססמער chende a¨gyptische Namen nach dem Muster von -nicht mehr ohne weiteres als a¨gyptischer Name identifizier השמ dann war bar, ein Datum, das zuna¨chst fu¨r die Auslegung von Ex 2,1–10 nicht ohne Belang ist.10

gen(n) Wandererza¨hlung, die urspru¨nglich nicht auf Mose bezogen war“ (Schmidt, aaO., 53), aus und la¨sst zudem die beliebte literarkritische Ausscheidung der Verse 2,4.7–10a (ibid. 52f mit Lit.) fragwu¨rdig erscheinen: (a) die literarkritisch vermisste Mitteilung der Geburt der Tochter ha¨tte nicht nur die zielfu¨hrende Geschlossenheit und Dramatik der Episode zersto¨rt; (b) ein solcher Bericht war nach der auch sonst erkennbaren Konvention gar nicht zu erwarten; (c) das Profil des Vorkontextes mit 1,16.22b bliebe unerkla¨rlich. Im U¨ brigen wa¨re in der resultierenden Grundschicht 2,1–3.5–6+10b am Ende der bis V. 6 liebevoll ausgefu¨hrten Erza¨hlung ein unvermittelter Abbruch zu konstatieren. 7 Fu¨r neuere Wiedergaben des Textes vgl. J.G. Westenholz, Legends of the Kings of Ak- kade. The Texts (MC 7), Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1997, 36–49; K. Hecker, Sargons Geburtslegende, in: TUAT Erga¨nzungslieferung, Gu¨tersloh: Gu¨tersloher Verlagshaus, 2005, 56f; Gerhards, aaO., 170–176. 8 Gerhards, aaO., 233f, fu¨hrt dagegen den Umstand, dass der Vater „an der Aussetzung des Kindes nicht beteiligt ist“, auf eine direkte Abha¨ngigkeit von dem Sargontext zuru¨ck. Die Konzentration auf die verschiedenen Vergleichstexte scheint dabei jedoch den Blick auf das Profil des Kontextes von Ex 2 verdeckt zu haben (s. o. bei Anm. 5). 9 Erst recht nicht nachzuvollziehen ist, wie intendierte Leser, selbst wenn sie mit der Sar- gonu¨berlieferung vertraut waren, Ex 2 als eine ko¨nigskritische, na¨herhin eine „subver- siv“ gegen die „neuassyrische Ko¨nigsideologie“ (dann auch gegen das davidische Ko¨nigtum?) gerichtete Erza¨hlung verstehen sollten; so E. Otto, Mose und das Gesetz. Die Mose-Figur als Gegenentwurf Politischer Theologie zur neuassyrischen Ko¨nigsideologie im 7. Jh. v. Chr., in: ders. (Hg.), Mose. A¨ gypten und das Alte Testament (SBS 189), Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 2000, 43–83; Gerhards, aaO., Kap. C. Vgl. dazu auch die Kritik bei J. Christian Gertz, Mose und die Anfa¨nge der ju¨dischen Religion, in: ZThK 99 (2002), 3–20, hier 13f, sowie F. Blanco Wißmann, Sargon, Mose und die Geg- ner Salomos – Zur Frage vor-neuassyrischer Urspru¨nge der Mose-Erza¨hlung, in: BN 110 (2001), 42–54, hier 50f. 10 Damit wird eine durchaus reizvolle U¨ berlegung von I. Willi-Plein, Ort und literarische Funktion der Geburtsgeschichte des Mose, in: VT 41 (1991), 110–118, wonach die in Ex -als Leitwort verdeckt auf die – den Lesern bekann י דל rekurrente Wurzel 2,10–1,15 te – a¨gyptische Bedeutung von „Mose“ hinfu¨hre, doch fraglich; vgl. auch Gerhards, in השמ aaO., 138–141. Gerhards, ebd. 141–147, vermutet dagegen, dass das hebra¨ische -Hif. in einem verallgemeinerten Sinn fu¨r „retten“ ge נ לצ semantischer Analogie zu braucht werden konnte. Dann bo¨te die Namensgebung des Pharaonentochter in 2,10 eine scho¨ne Explikation des der Geburtsgeschichte zugrundeliegenden Motivs vom „ge- Der historische Mose und die Fru¨hgeschichte Israels 41 Fu¨r die israelitische Traditionsgeschichte einer Gestalt namens ‚Mose‘ fu¨hrt die Sprachform in die fru¨he Eisenzeit (EZ I) oder gar Spa¨tbronzezeit (SB), d. h. in eine fru¨hisraelitische (oder proto-israelitische) Epoche. Belegt sie auch einen genuinen traditionsgeschichtlichen Zusammenhang dieser Gestalt mit der A¨ gypten-Exodus-U¨ berlieferung? M. Noth verneint dies unter Verweis auf die Rahmenbedingungen in Kanaan: „Einen a¨gyptischen Namen konnte ein Mensch am Ausgang der Spa¨tbronzezeit, nachdem Syrien-Pala¨stina mehrere Jahrhunderte lang unter a¨gyptischer Ober- herrschaft gestanden hatte, auch erhalten haben, ohne jemals in A¨ gypten selbst gewesen zu sein; besonders bei Sta¨mmen, die sich in der Wu¨ste zwischen A¨ gypten und dem pala¨stinischen Kulturlande zeitweise aufhiel- ten, war das leicht mo¨glich. Wie auch immer Mose zu seinem a¨gyptischen Namen gekommen sein mag, eine spezielle Beziehung zu der Erza¨hlung von der ‚Herausfu¨hrung aus A¨ gypten‘ hat er offenbar nicht.“11 Auch wenn Noth keinen Beleg fu¨r Nicht-A¨ gypter mit a¨gyptischen Namen im Kanaan dieser Zeit anfu¨hrt, ist eine solche Mo¨glichkeit natu¨rlich nicht auszu- schließen. Nicht beantwortet wa¨re damit gleichwohl die weitergehende Frage, wie wahrscheinlich die Verknu¨pfung eines Heros a¨gyptischen Na- mens mit einer Ursprungstradition ist, welche die Anfa¨nge der Israeliten mit einem Auszug aus A¨ gypten verbindet. Nun ist reale Geschichte ge- meinhin komplexer, als die Ordnungskategorien nachgeborener Histori- ker es vorsehen, insofern wa¨re gewiss damit zu rechnen, dass an solchen Anfa¨ngen, wie immer sie zu beschreiben sind, bspw. ein A¨ gypter eine wesentliche Rolle gespielt haben mochte. Demgegenu¨ber ha¨tte jedoch eine derartige sekunda¨re Verknu¨pfung innerhalb der fru¨hen israelitischen Tra- dition jede Plausibilita¨tserwa¨gung gegen sich.12 Geradezu ausgeschlossen werden kann dergleichen fu¨r „ju¨ngere“ Traditionen (d. h. in diesem Falle: jedenfalls ab dem 9./8. Jahrhundert v. Chr.): Falls die Herkunft des Na- mens noch bekannt war (s. o.), stellte sich die eben formulierte Frage noch verscha¨rft. Falls der Name nicht mehr verstanden wurde, bliebe nur die zweifelhafte Hypothese eines wundersamen Zufalls. Beide Optionen ver-

retteten Retter“. Erweisen la¨sst sich dies gleichwohl nicht, weil das Verbum neben Ex 2 nur noch in Ps 18,17 (par.) vorkommt, ebenfalls in der konkreten Bedeutung „(aus dem Wasser) ziehen“. Gerade bei einer idiomatischen Bedeutung im Sinne von „retten“ sollte man aber ein ha¨ufigeres Vorkommen erwarten. 11 M. Noth, U¨ berlieferungsgeschichte des Pentateuch, Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1948, 178f. 12 Vgl. R. Smend, Mose als geschichtliche Gestalt, in: ders., Bibel – Theologie – Universita¨t (KVR 1582), Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1997, 5–20, hier 17: „Der Name spricht entschieden fu¨r eine a¨gyptische Komponente in der Biographie seines Tra¨gers … Spa¨tere Erfindung du¨rfte auszuschließen sein; wie sollte Israel dem Mann, den es als seinen Begru¨nder ansah, einen Namen gerade in der Sprache derer beilegen, aus deren Hand er das Volk gerettet hatte?“ 42 Erhard Blum ba¨nden sich zudem mit dem zusa¨tzlichen Problem, woher diese Traditi- onsgestalt mit dem altertu¨mlichen Namen genommen sein sollte. Die historischen Implikationen des Mose-Namens lassen sich mithin von der Ge- schichte der Exodustradition nicht lo¨sen.

II. Die Exodus-Tradition als Hintergrund

Nach einer verbreiteten Sicht in der neueren Exegese war die Tradition eines Exodus aus A¨ gypten prima¨r im Bereich des Nordreiches Israel be- heimatet.13 In der Tat ist der Textbefund außerhalb der Pentateucherza¨h- lung in dieser Hinsicht eindeutig: Unter den Propheten des 8. Jahrhun- derts v. Chr. bezieht sich allein14 der nordisraelitische Hosea auf die A¨ gyptentradition, und dies ebenso nachdru¨cklich wie pointiert (Hos 11,1; 12,10. 14; 13,4[f]). Nicht zuletzt kann der Prophet in Hos 12, einer literarisch komponierten Redeeinheit, die zwischen 732 und 724 zu datieren ist,15 Mose als Fu¨hrungsfigur des A¨ gypten-Exodus thematisieren (12,14):

13 Vgl. so unterschiedlich gepra¨gte Fachvertreter wie Y. Hoffman, A North Israelite Typo- logical Myth and a Judean Historical Tradition: the Exodus in Hosea and Amos, in: VT 39 (1989), 169–182; R. Albertz, Religionsgeschichte Israels in alttestamentlicher Zeit 1 (GAT 8/1) Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1992, 212–226; ders., Exodus: Libera- tion History against Charter Myth, in: J.W. van Henten/A. Houtepen (Hgg.), Religious Identity and the Invention of Tradition (STAR 3) Assen: Royal Van Gorcum, 2001, 128– 143; K. van der Toorn, Family Religion in Babylonia, Syria and Israel. Continuity and Change in the Forms of Religious Life (SHCANE 7), Leiden et al.: Brill, 1996, 287–306; ders., The Exodus as Charter Myth, in: J.W. van Henten/A. Houtepen (Hgg.), aaO., 113–127; J.J. Collins, The Development of the Exodus Tradition, in: J.W. van Henten/A. Houtepen (Hgg.), aaO., 144–155; M. Ko¨ckert, YHWH in the Northern and Southern Kingdom, in: R.G. Kratz/H. Spieckermann (Hgg.), One God – One Cult – One Nation. Archaeological and Biblical Perspectives (BZAW 405), Berlin/New York: De Gruyter, 2010, 357–394. In der a¨lteren Forschung blieb der Zusammenhang verdeckt, solange man sich von dem juda¨ischen Jahwisten der Urkundenhypothese leiten ließ. 14 Daneben ko¨nnte man auch an Amos denken; s. z. B. Hoffman, aaO., 177–181; van der Toorn, Family Religion (s. Anm. 13), 291–293. Die einschla¨gigen Belege (Am 2,10f; 3,1; 9,7) gelten jedoch mit guten Gru¨nden zumeist als ju¨ngere (im weiteren Sinne ‚deuteronomistische‘) Eintragungen. Vgl. insgesamt W.H. Schmidt, Die deuteronomistische Redaktion des Amosbuches, in: ZAW 77 (1965), 168–193; zu Am 2,10f bes. M. Ko¨ckert, Das Gesetz und die Propheten in Amos 1–2 (1992), in: ders., Leben in Gottes Gegen- wart. Studien zum Versta¨ndnis des Gesetzes im Alten Testament (FAT 43) Tu¨bingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004, 183–193; zu Am 3,1 H.W. Wolff, Dodekapropheton 2. Joel und Amos (BK 14/2) Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1969, 212f; zu Am 9,7 H. Gese, Das Problem von Amos 9,7 (1979), in: ders., Alttestamentliche Studien, Tu¨bingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1991, 116–121. 15 E. Blum, Hosea 12 und die Pentateuchu¨berlieferungen, in: A. C. Hagedorn/H. Pfeiffer (Hgg.), Die Erzva¨ter in der biblischen Tradition. FS M. Ko¨ckert (BZAW 400), Berlin- New York: De Gruyter, 2009, 291–321. Der historische Mose und die Fru¨hgeschichte Israels 43 ו ב נ ב י יהלעהא ה ו יתאה רצממלארש י ום ב נ ב י נא שׁ רמ Die Rede von „einem Propheten“ ohne Nennung des Namens steht im Dienst einer pointierten pragmatischen Zuspitzung der Einheit, die ein auf seine eigene Kraft bauendes Jakob/Israel dazu anha¨lt, sich auf die bewah- rende Leitung seines Gottes, eben vermittelt durch Propheten (Verse [7.] 11. 14), zu besinnen. Welcher Art die Erza¨hltradition war, auf die diese summarische Erinnerung von V. 14 anspielte, la¨sst sich aus Hos 12 nicht mehr erschließen. Jedenfalls ist mit der Mo¨glichkeit zu rechnen, dass die Profilierung Moses als Prophet eine bewusste Neuakzentuierung durch Hosea darstellte. Obschon Hosea bestimmte Formen der ‚Staatsreligion‘ wie etwa den Kult um „Samarias Jungstier“ scharf angreift (8,5; 10,5–6; 13,2b), steht er mit der Exodusthematik doch auch in einer zentralen ‚offiziellen‘ Traditi- on des Nordreichs. Diese Tradition belegen in wu¨nschenswerter Deutlich- keit noch die beiden kritischen Spiegelungen des Kultes zu Bethel in 1 Ko¨n 12,26–33 und Ex 32, wo die Stierbilder jeweils als „dein Gott, Israel, der dich aus A¨ gyptenland heraufgefu¨hrt hat, (1 Ko¨n 12,28; Ex 32,4) prokla- miert werden. Unabha¨ngig davon, ob man es fu¨r m o¨ glich ha¨lt, innerhalb der dtr Darstellung der kultpolitischen Maßnahmen Jerobeams I. in Bethel (und Dan) in 1 Ko¨n 12 literarkritisch a¨lteres annalistisches Material noch im Wortlaut abgrenzen zu ko¨nnen,16 erscheint es kaum denkbar, dass (im engeren und weiteren Sinne) deuteronomistische Tradenten auf die Idee verfielen, die fu¨r sie zentrale Exodustradition ausgerechnet mit dem Kult- programm Jerobeams, d. h. aus ihrer Sicht mit der ‚Ursu¨nde‘ des Nordrei- ches Israel, in Verbindung zu bringen.17 Umgekehrt ist nicht zu u¨berse- hen, mit welcher Intensita¨t nach der Zerschlagung des Nordreiches in Juda daran gearbeitet wurde, die Illegitimita¨t der JHWH-Verehrung in Bethel zu erweisen, ohne dabei die Exodustradition selbst infrage zu stellen. Bezeichnenderweise gelingt es dabei weder Ex 32 (in seinen verschiedenen Schichten) noch 1 Ko¨n 12, die Spannung zwischen der Verbindung des Stierbilds zum JHWH-Kult und dem jeweils unterstellten Abfall von JHWH (zu einem selbstgemachten Gott) ga¨nzlich aufzulo¨sen. Es spricht mithin einiges dafu¨r, dass in der o.g. Proklamation des Exodusgottes so

16 Fu¨r entsprechende Analysen vgl. H. Pfeiffer, Das Heiligtum von Bethel im Spiegel des Hoseabuches (FRLANT 183), Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1999, 26–33; Ko¨- ckert, YHWH (s. Anm. 13), 368f, jeweils mit Lit. 17 F. Cru¨semann, Der Widerstand gegen das Ko¨nigtum. Die antiko¨niglichen Texte des Alten Testamentes und der Kampf um den fru¨hen israelitischen Staat (WMANT 49), Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1978, 122 mit Anm. 59. 44 Erhard Blum etwas wie ein Kultruf aus dem Reichsheiligtum von Bethel zitiert wird,18 dessen Implikationen auf der Hand liegen: „In the royal proclamation in front of the bull (v. 28), YHWH appears as the ‚God of Israel‘, i. e. as the national god who bases his special relationship to ‚Israel‘ on the Exodus from Egypt.“19 Kann man insofern vom Exodus als einem „Charter Myth“ des Ko¨nig- reiches Israel sprechen,20 verbindet sich damit freilich sogleich die weitergehende Frage, weshalb dieser Tradition gerade im Nordreich eine solche Bedeutung zuwachsen konnte. Eine mo¨gliche Antwort mu¨sste wohl dop- pelt ausgerichtet sein: zum einen auf das Herkommen der Exodus-Tradi- tion, zum anderen auf eine (oder mehrere) Konstellation(en) in der Ge- schichte des Nordreiches, in welcher der Exodus eine spezifische identita¨tsstiftende Wirkung entfalten konnte. Fu¨r Letzteres bietet sich m. E. allein die Anfangszeit des sich konstituierenden Ko¨nigsreiches Israel an; allerdings verbinden sich damit einiger- maßen verzweigte historische Fragen, deren fundierte Diskussion in diesem Rahmen nicht mo¨glich ist. Deshalb muss es hier bei einer knappen Skizze bleiben: Unter der Voraussetzung, dass das Nordreich Israel als ‚rechtlich-politische‘ Gro¨ße mit einer Separation der Nordsta¨mme aus dem Herrschaftsbereich der Davididen entstanden ist und dass diese Se- paration nicht zuletzt vor dem Hintergrund von Fronarbeiten dieser Sta¨mme fu¨r die salomonische Oberherrschaft (s.u.) angestrebt wurde, liegt das Bedeutungspotential der Exodustradition fu¨r die kollektive Identita¨t des sich konstituierenden ‚Staates‘ auf der Hand. Dies ist nicht so zu verstehen, dass Pharao als Chiffre fu¨r das davidische Ko¨nigtum gedient ha¨tte oder Erza¨hlungen vom Auszug aus A¨ gypten als Allegorien fu¨r die Auf- ku¨ndigung der Gefolgschaft gegenu¨ber Jerusalem. Wohl aber konnte sich die ursprungsmythisch erfolgreiche Absetzung aus dem Herrschaftsbe- reich Pharaos als Analogie zur erfolgreichen politischen Absonderung von

18 W. Zimmerli, Das Bilderverbot in der Geschichte des alten Israel. Goldenes Kalb, Eher- ne Schlange, Mazzeben und Lade (1971), in: ders., Studien zur alttestamentlichen Theo- logie und Prophetie. Gesammelte Aufsa¨tze II (TB 51), Mu¨nchen: Kaiser, 1974, 247–260, hier 250. Vgl. u. a. auch Albertz, Religionsgeschichte (s. Anm. 13), 223. 19 Ko¨ckert, aaO., 370. 20 Vgl. van der Toorn, Exodus (s. Anm. 13). Allerdings wa¨re neben und mit der Exodus- tradition sogleich auch die Jakobu¨berlieferung zu nennen. Deren Verha¨ltnisbestimmung bei van der Toorn: „whereas the Jacob tradition was a paradigm of local religion, the Exodus tradition served as national charter myth“ (aaO., 122), verfehlt die Jakobu¨berlieferung in nahezu jeder Beziehung: der „Gott in Bethel“, der Israel-Name, die Bezie- hungen zu Edom auf der einen, zu Aram auf der anderen Seite, die Vorrangsstellung Josephs etc. haben nichts mit „localist clan religion“ zu schaffen. Zu Jakob vgl. zuletzt E. Blum, Jacob Traditions, in: C.A. Evans u. a. (Hgg.), The Book of Genesis. Composition, Reception, and Interpretation (FIOTL), Leiden: Brill, im Druck. Der historische Mose und die Fru¨hgeschichte Israels 45 den Davididen aufdra¨ngen. Das Motiv der Fronarbeit kann dabei bereits zum Exodus-Narrativ geho¨rt haben.21 Falls nicht, wird es ihm nun zugewachsen sein. Der Gedanke, dass der Stellenwert der Exodustradition im Nordreich mit den Erfahrun- gen der Salomozeit und dem politischen Widerstand gegen dieses Ko¨nigtum zu verbinden sei, ist gewiss nicht neu.22 Vor allem R. Albertz hat dafu¨r auch einen Nachweis auf der Textebene gesucht, indem er Strukturentsprechungen im Plot der Mose- und Jero- beam-Geschichte benannte und darauf die Datierung einer Mose-Exodus-Grunderza¨h- lung in die Anfangszeit des Nordreiches gru¨ndete.23 Allerdings ist zu fragen, ob die Par- allelen wirklich derartiges erweisen ko¨nnen oder doch eher aus thematisch-sachlichen Gegebenheiten resultieren (Flucht vor dem Herrscher in ein anderes Land, Ru¨ckkehr nach dessen Tod etc.). Daru¨ber hinaus erscheint es ratsam, die geschichtliche Ansetzung der u¨berlieferten Texte (auch deren mutmaßlich a¨ltesten Bestandteile) von den traditionsgeschichtlichen Zusammenha¨ngen zu trennen. Dies gilt auch fu¨r die U¨ berlieferung von der Reichstrennung in 1 Ko¨n 11–12, insbesondere fu¨r die Episode von den Ver- handlungen der Nordsta¨mme mit Rehabeam und dem Konflikt zwischen a¨lteren und ju¨ngeren Ratgebern.24 Als tragend du¨rften sich am Ende eher einfache Sachzusammen- ha¨nge erweisen: Wenn Salomo in Jerusalem Tempel- und Palastbauten (in welchen Di- mensionen auch immer) durchfu¨hrte (was sich nicht so leicht als Fiktion erweisen la¨sst25), war er angesichts der fehlenden Ressourcen in Juda und Jerusalem zweifellos auf eine Rekrutierung von Angeho¨rigen der Nordsta¨mme in betra¨chtlichem Umfang ange- wiesen – wiederum eine fu¨r den Idealko¨nig wenig vorteilhafte Tradition, die spa¨tere Tradenten wieder zu verdecken suchten.26

21 Noth, U¨ berlieferungsgeschichte (s. Anm. 11), 53, ist sich hier sicher: „Dabei geho¨rte neben dem eigentlichen Hauptgegenstand der Vernichtung der A¨ gypter im Meere als Einfu¨hrung noch der Aufenthalt der Israeliten, ihre Heranziehung zur Fronarbeit und ihr Entweichen aus A¨ gypten zum unentbehrlichen und festen Grundbestand an Erza¨h- lungsmotiven….“ Tatsa¨chlich bedarf der Plot mit Auszug aus A¨ gypten und Verfolgung der vorausgehenden Motivation fu¨r den Auszug; allerdings wa¨ren neben der Fron auch andere Motivcluster denkbar, wie Deportation/Gefangenschaft, Desintegration in der ‚Fremde‘ etc. 22 S. vor allem Cru¨semann, aaO. (s. Anm. 17), 111–122, bes. 122; Albertz, Religionsge- schichte (s. Anm. 13), 215–219. 23 Albertz, ebd.; ders., YHWH (s. Anm. 13); mit einer eigensta¨ndigen Weiterfu¨hrung: Blanco Wissmann, Sargon (s. Anm. 9). Noch ausgedehntere Salomo/Jerobeam-Mose- Bezu¨ge finden zu ko¨nnen meint P. Sa¨rkio¨, Exodus und Salomo. Erwa¨gungen zur ver- deckten Salomokritik anhand von Ex 1–2; 5; 14 und 32 (SESJ 71), Helsinki/Go¨ttingen: Finnische Exegetische Gesellschaft/Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1998. 24 Dazu zuletzt A. Rofe´, Elders or Youngsters? Critical Remarks on 1 Kings 12, in: R.G. Kratz & H. Spieckermann, aaO. (s. Anm. 13), 79–89, der eine eher spa¨te Datierung der weisheitlichen Episode vertritt. 25 Fiktive Bauprojekte dieser Art wu¨rden dem Dynastiegru¨nder zugeschrieben werden; dies belegt schlagend die Mu¨he der Tradenten, diese Abweichung zu begru¨nden (2 Sam 7; 1 Chron 17; 22). 26 Dazu dient die Einfu¨hrung „u¨briggebliebener Amoriter, Hethiter, Perisiter, Hiwiter und Jebusiter“ als Frondienstleistende in 1 Ko¨n 9,20f, wa¨hrend die Israeliten ausdru¨cklich ausgenommen werden (9,22!). Dem widersprechen jedoch die Angaben in 5,27–30, die Einfu¨hrung Adonirams als des fu¨r die Fron zusta¨ndigen Beamten (ebd. und 12,18!) und 46 Erhard Blum Fu¨r die Verbreitung der Exodustradition vor ihrer Rezeption im Staatskult des Nordens gibt es keine Quellengrundlage, weder in der biblischen Lite- ratur noch gar außerhalb. M. Noth kam fu¨r seine These, bei der „Heraus- fu¨hrung aus A¨ gypten“ handle es sich um „ein gemeinsames Bekenntnis von Gesamtisrael [Hervorhebungen im Orig., EB]“, noch ohne greifbare Argu- mente aus, weil er sich auf einen unhinterfragten Konsens stu¨tzen konnte.27 Immerhin ist aber bereits vor Jerobeam mit einer Geltung der Tradi- tion in maßgeblichen Teilen der mittelpala¨stinischen bzw. no¨rdlichen Sta¨mme zu rechnen, insofern auch ein „Charter Myth“ seine Aufgabe nur wirkungsvoll erfu¨llen kann, wenn er eine entsprechende Resonanz in der Bevo¨lkerung findet. Traditionsgeschichtlich fu¨hrt dies fu¨r die Exodusthe- matik letztlich in vorstaatliche Zeit. Was meint aber das Exodus-Bekenntnis in dem nordisraelitischen Kultruf in der Sache? Diese auf den ersten Blick u¨berraschende Frage wird in einigen neueren Beitra¨gen durchaus unterschiedlich beantwortet. So erwa¨gt M. Ko¨ckert, dass „the phrase ‚brought you up from the land of Egypt‘ would … refer – in the context of the Northern Kingdom – to ‚Canaan‘ as a former Egyptian province.“ Wie die anschließende Erlaüterung andeutet, wa¨re damit na¨herhin die Geschichte der mittelpala¨stinischen Sta¨mme im Blick, die zuvor symbiotisch mit kanaanaïschen Stadtstaaten verbunden waren. Erst spa¨ter wa¨re der Exodus als Herausfu¨hrung aus A¨ gypten selbst interpretiert worden.28 Damit wa¨re „Land A¨ gypten“ in der „Exodus“-Tra- dition urspru¨nglich als Metapher verwendet, und dies in einem doppelten Sinne: fu¨r „Kanaan“, aber nicht als raümlich-geographische Bezeichnung (die auch das mittelpala¨stinische Gebirge einschlo¨sse), sondern als Chiffre fu¨r eine soziokulturelle Gro¨ße. Zu fragen ist jedoch, ob ein solcher Sprachgebrauch von „Land A¨ gypten“ mehr als zweihundert Jahre nach

die Notiz, wonach Jerobeam ben Nebat von Salomo als verantwortlich fu¨r die Fron des „Hauses Joseph“ eingesetzt war (11,28). In der Kommentierung dieser Abschnitte durch M. Noth (Ko¨nige) zeigt sich eine umgekehrte Tendenz, weil in dem Alt-Nothschen geschichtlichen Bild eines nachhaltigen Antagonismus zwischen Israeliten und Kanaana¨- ern (der Theorie nach bis in die spa¨te Ko¨nigszeit hinein) 1 Ko¨n 9,20–22 als (letztlich einziger) Beleg fu¨r solche Kanaanaër neben den Israeliten gebraucht wurde. Literarge- schichtlich du¨rfte in 9,20–22 dagegen schon die nach-dtrG-Verselbsta¨ndigung des Rich- terbuches mit Ri 1 vorausgesetzt sein. 27 Noth, U¨ berlieferungsgeschichte (s. Anm. 11), 52. Kritisch zu Noth bereits R. Smend, Jahwekrieg und Sta¨mmebund. Erwa¨gungen zur a¨ltesten Geschichte Israels (FRLANT 84), Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 21966, 81–83; A.H.J. Gunneweg, Mose in Midian, in: ZThK 21 (1966), 1–9, hier 5 Anm. 12. 28 Ko¨ckert, YHWH (s. Anm. 13), 370. Der historische Mose und die Fru¨hgeschichte Israels 47 dem Ru¨ckzug der A¨ gypter aus Kanaan (s.i.F.) nicht eine Art historischen Bewusstseins, ja geradezu eine analytische Perspektive voraussetzte.29 Zuletzt hat auch N. Na’aman den Sachkern der Exodustradition auf Er- fahrungen von Protoisraeliten im Kanaan der Spa¨tbronzezeit bezogen, wenn auch mit einer anderen Fu¨llung:30 Insbesondere unter der 19. und 20. Dynastie sei die a¨gyptische Oberherrschaft in Kanaan auch von der nicht-sta¨dtischen Bevo¨lkerung zunehmend als dru¨ckend, als eine Art „Sklavenhaus“ erfahren worden, „so that the Egyptian withdrawal from Canaan was a great relief to all its inhabitants.“31 Dieser historische Hin- tergrund mache die von Anfang an gesamtisraelitische Bedeutung der A¨ gyptentradition versta¨ndlich. Umgekehrt erkla¨re die Annahme, „that memory of the Egyptian withdrawal from Canaan and the deliverance from its bondage was reversed and turned into a story of deliverance and the emergence from Egypt“, weshalb in der biblischen U¨ berlieferung jede Erinnerung an die a¨gyptische Herrschaft in Kanaan vor dem Zusammen- bruch der kanaanaïschen Stadtstaaten fehle.32 Nun ist aber weder die zentrale gesamtisraelitische Bedeutung der Tradition zweifelsfrei gegeben33 noch das Fehlen von Nachrichten u¨ber historische Prozesse des 2. Jahrtau- sends v. Chr. in der alttestamentlichen U¨ berlieferung wirklich erkla¨rungsbedu¨rftig. Na’amans indigen kanaanaïsche Herleitung gibt mithin das Ra¨t- sel auf, weshalb der Exodus der A¨ gypter in einen Exodus aus A¨ gypten transformiert worden sein sollte; zudem bleibt die religionsgeschichtliche Frage nach den Urspru¨ngen der JHWH-Verehrung durch die israelitischen Sta¨mme dabei ausgeklammert. Na’aman ist sich dessen bewusst und nennt als weiteres Traditionselement noch die Mose-Figur mit ihrem supponierten a¨gyptischen Hintergrund.34 So bleibt schließlich als einzig sub-

29 Auch die Pra¨supposition der Erkla¨rung des mit „herauffu¨hren“ (anstelle von „herausfu¨hren“) formulierten Kultrufs: „it [scil. der Kultruf] aims at safeguarding the possession of the land and thus at protecting the national existence of the Northern kingdom – an existence that has to be secured again and again in the cult: ‚…who brought you (sg.!) up …‘“ (ibid., 371), versteht sich nicht von selbst. Hat sich fu¨r das Nordreich (oder einen der benachbarten Kleinstaaten) vor 732/722 v. Chr. eine sta¨ndige ‚nationale Exis- tenzfrage‘ in diesem Sinne wirklich gestellt? 30 N. Na’aman, The Exodus Story: Between Historical Memory and Historiographical Composition, in: JNER 11 (2011), 39–69. 31 Na’aman, aaO., 55; vgl. die breite Pra¨sentation des Materials ebd., 44–55, anknu¨pfend an R. Hendel, The Exodus in Biblical Memory, in: JBL 120 (2001), 601–622. 32 Na’aman, aaO., 63f. 33 Siehe oben bei Anm. 27. Na’amans Insistieren darauf, dass die Exodustradition in Juda bekannt gewesen sei, trifft im U¨ brigen nicht den Punkt: Das tragende Element des Staatskultes im Norden kann in Jerusalem in der Tat nicht unbekannt gewesen sein; gerade wegen dieser Funktion du¨rfte man im Su¨den aber genu¨gend Gru¨nde gehabt haben, diese Tradition nicht ins Zentrum zu ru¨cken. 34 Na’aman, aaO., 66f. 48 Erhard Blum stanzieller Erkla¨rungsansatz ein Ru¨ckgriff auf die (im Umfeld von A. Alt und M. Noth) ‚traditionelle‘ Hypothese der kleinen Exodusschar: „The small group led by Moses that possibly arrived from Egypt to Canaan and the tradition of the southern origin of YHWH might have played some role in the shift of the historical memory.“35 Nach Lage der Dinge wird man die Gewichte gegenu¨ber den neueren Vorschla¨gen eher wieder umzukehren haben: Falls die a¨gyptische Herr- schaft im spa¨tbronzezeitlichen Kanaan tatsa¨chlich pra¨gende Erinnerungs- spuren bei der fru¨h-israelitischen Bevo¨lkerung hinterlassen haben sollte, bildeten diese einen Resonanzboden, der die Identifikation mit einer „von außen“ vermittelten Exodustradition nicht unerheblich zu fo¨rdern ver- mochte. Was sich aus den Hinterlassenschaften der a¨gyptischen Verwaltung im 13./12. Jahrhundert v. Chr. u¨ber mo¨gliche Rahmenbedingungen fu¨r „Eiso- doi“ sogenannter „Asiaten“ nach A¨ gypten, seien es voru¨bergehend aufge- nommene nomadische Schasu oder verschleppte Apiru, erheben la¨sst, ist seit langem diskutiert und dokumentiert.36 Das gleiche gilt fu¨r die darauf bezogene kritische Aufarbeitung der biblischen U¨ berlieferungen zum Auszug.37 Deren a¨lteste literarische Gestalt in Ex *1–14, die analytisch noch mit einiger Zuversicht greifbar erscheint, geht wohl auf das (eher fru¨he) 7. Jahrhundert v. Chr. zuru¨ck.38 Umso erstaunlicher ist der Befund, dass auch darin noch Einzelzu¨ge zu finden sind, die sich nicht aus der Zeit der Erza¨hler herleiten lassen. Dazu geho¨ren die Ramsesstadt in Ex 1,1139 und vermutlich auch die signifikant geha¨ufte Rede von „Hebra¨ern“ in Ex

35 Na’aman, ibid., 67. 36 Fu¨r das Textmaterial vgl. K. Galling, Textbuch zur Geschichte Israels, Tu¨bingen: Mohr Siebeck, 21968, Nr. 12, 14, 16, und insbes. M. Weippert, Historisches Textbuch zum Alten Testament. Mit Beitra¨gen von J.F. Quack, B.U. Schipper und S.J. Wimmer (GAT 10), Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2010, 148–198. 37 Fu¨r eine klassische Darstellung der Daten und Probleme mag der Verweis auf Donner, Geschichte (s. Anm. 1), 97–111, genu¨gen. 38 Vgl. E. Blum, Studien zur Komposition des Pentateuch (BZAW 189), Berlin: De Gruy- ter, 1990, 215–218; oder zuletzt Na’aman, aaO., 67. Na’amans Formulierung: „[T]he Ex- odus story was composed for the first time in the seventh century BCE …“, beruht freilich auf einem (verbreiteten) Kurzschluss von der mehr oder weniger zufa¨llig noch erkennbaren U¨ berlieferung auf die Gesamtheit der israelitischen Literatur. 39 Dagegen spricht auch nicht die ju¨ngere Orthographie (im Vergleich zu „Mose“), lag es fu¨r spa¨tere Tradenten doch nahe, die Aussprache und Schreibung des bekannten Pha- raonennamens – anders als beim nostrifizierten Mose – zu aktualisieren; zu Knauf, Mi- dian (s. Anm. 3), 105. Dass man in spa¨terer Zeit Spolien aus der Ramses-Residenz weiter benutzte (ibid.), besagt noch nicht, dass der alte Name der versunkenen Residenz wei- terhin bekannt war. Zu „Pithom“ vertritt zuletzt auch Na’aman, aaO., 57, fu¨r die 19./20. Dynastie eine Lokalisierung auf dem tell er-reta¯be, w a¨ hrend der Name spa¨ter bis in hel- lenistisch-ro¨mische Zeit mit der Ortslage von˙tell el-mashu¯ta verbunden gewesen sei. ˘ ˙ Der historische Mose und die Fru¨hgeschichte Israels 49 1–14. Direkte historische Rekonstruktionen lassen sich auch darauf nicht stu¨tzen, immerhin du¨rften hier aber Elemente fru¨her Erza¨hltraditionen vorliegen. Erst recht kommt man bei den anderen Handlungselementen wie dem Meerwunder und seiner Lokalisierung u¨ber Vermutungen, die sich am Ende weder belegen noch widerlegen lassen, nicht hinaus. Die einzige Ausnahme bildet nach den obigen Ausfu¨hrungen die Mo- segestalt. Die Existenz einer Fu¨hrungsgestalt mit diesem (a¨gyptischen) Namen hat alle Wahrscheinlichkeit fu¨r sich. Alles Weitere bleibt im Be- reich „historisch“ mehr oder weniger „kontrollierter Spekulationen“. Dies gilt zumal fu¨r Identifikationen Moses mit bekannten Personen der a¨gyptischen Geschichte, darunter die Gleichsetzung mit einem Asiaten namens By (Bai/Beya), der beim U¨ bergang von der 19. zur 20. Dynastie einen Usurpationsversuch unternommen haben soll.40 Obschon dieser Zusam- menhang besonders differenziert begru¨ndet wurde, erscheint er inzwischen auch aufgrund a¨gyptischer Daten ausgeschlossen,41 die exegetische Grundlage war von Anfang problematisch.42

III. Mose und die Midianiter

Neben dem a¨gyptischen Namen gilt vielfach Moses Verschwa¨gerung mit den Midianitern (vgl. Ex 2,15–22; 3,1; 4,18–20. 24–26; 18; Num 10,29–32) als ein weiterer ‚historischer‘ Zug der Mosetradition.43 In der Tat sprechen gewichtige Gru¨nde zumindest fu¨r ein ausgepra¨gtes Alter44 der Tradition. Nicht nur wa¨re etwa aus exilisch-nachexilischer Zeit das Motiv einer exo- gamen Verschwa¨gerung der Gru¨ndungsfigur Mose, noch dazu mit dem

40 Knauf, aaO. (s. Anm. 3), 129–138 (vgl. auch die abwa¨gende Rezeption bei Donner, aaO., 131–134, als „historisch kontrollierte Spekulation“); J.C. de Moor, The Rise of Yahwism. The Roots of Israelite Monotheism (BEThL 91), Leuven: University Press/Uitgeverij Peeters, 1990, 136–151. 41 Dazu S. Timm, Der Tod des Staatsfeindes: Neues zu B3j*, in: VT 58 (2008), 87–100, davor schon Go¨rg, Mose (s. Anm. 4), 36f mit Lit. Der Knaufsche Rekonstruktionsver- such hat sich gleichwohl als anregend erwiesen. Dass er einer Falsifikation zuga¨nglich war, spricht grundsa¨tzlich fu¨r die Hypothese. 42 Die bei Knauf, aaO. (s. Anm. 3), 129f, als a¨lteste Mosetexte herausdestillierten Verse Ex 11,1–3*; 12,35f* bilden literargeschichtlich deutlich erkennbare spa¨te Einschreibungen in die Erza¨hlungssubstanz; s. Blum, Studien (s. Anm. 38), 28–30 mit Anm. 106. 43 Vgl. u. a. Smend, Jahwekrieg (s. Anm. 27), 95f; W.H. Schmidt, Exodus (s. Anm. 1), 83– 87; ders., Exodus, Sinai und Mose. Erwa¨gungen zu Ex 1–19 und 24 (EdF 191), Darm- stadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1983, 110–113 (mit Lit.); Gertz, Mose (s. Anm. 9), 10. 44 In diesem Sinne – ohne Verbindung mit dem „historischen Mose“ – z. B. Gunneweg, Mose (s. Anm. 27); G.W. Coats, Moses in Midian, in: JBL 92 (1973), 3–10. 50 Erhard Blum Priester (!) der als feindselig konnotierten Midianiter kaum zu erkla¨ren, schon die vielgestaltigen Auspra¨gungen der Tradition (nicht nur bei den Namen von Moses Schwiegervater45) deuten auf eine la¨ngere Traditions- geschichte: So traten in einer Traditionslinie an die Stelle der ansto¨ßigen Midianiter die mehr oder weniger ‚nostrifizierten‘ Keniter (Ri 1,16;46 4,16).47 In einer anderen (Num 12) liegt vermutlich die Tradition einer „kuschanitischen“ Frau zugrunde, die – entsprechend dem Parallelismus in Hab 3,7 – kaum als sachliche Variante zur Midianiterin gemeint war, in der vorliegenden kompositionellen Fassung (KD) jedoch als „kuschitisch = nubisch“ reinterpretiert wurde;48 damit war die Tradition einer weiteren, nubisch-a¨thiopischen Frau Moses geboren. Daru¨ber hinaus bietet die Pentateuchu¨berlieferung gleich mehrere Texte aus unterschiedlichen Epo- chen, in denen die Tradition von Moses midianitischer Frau israelitisch ‚integriert‘ bzw. verarbeitet wurde. So hat die dichte Episode vom „Blutbra¨utigam/Blutverschwa¨gerten“ (Ex 4,24–26) ihren Skopos in einer symbolischen Handlung (inkl. eines per- formativen Sprechaktes), mit der Zippora ihren Mann aus der to¨dlichen Bedrohung durch JHWH rettet. Dies wird ermo¨glicht durch die (Neu-) Konstitution der sozio-religio¨sen Zugeho¨rigkeit Zipporas und ihres Soh- nes zu Mose und seiner Gemeinschaft.49 Erst damit ist der ku¨nftige Retter

45 Vgl. die U¨ bersicht und Diskussion in Blum, Studien (s. Anm. 38), 142f mit Lit. freilich eine Glosse (in unvollsta¨ndigem Anschluss an 4,11) dar. Die תח השמן Hier stellt 46 abweichenden Lesungen in Teilen der LXX versuchen den Text sprachlich und sachlich zu harmonisieren (anders S. Mittmann, Ri. 1,16f und das Siedlungsgebiet der keniti- schen Sippe Hobab, in: ZDPV 93 [1977], 213–235, hier 213–215), ebenso die Konjek- turvorschla¨ge in BHK und BHS, allerdings sprachlich missglu¨ckt. 47 Ob es dabei um ein Legitimationsbedu¨rfnis kenitischer Sippen ging (so Knauf, Midian [s. Anm. 3], 158f) oder um Gla¨ttungen durch juda¨ische Tradenten kann offenbleiben; in jedem Fall wird die JHWH-Verehrung bei den Kenitern eine wesentliche Rolle gespielt haben. Die verschiedentlich postulierte Stammeszugeho¨rigkeit der Keniter zu Midian bildet wohl eine moderne Harmonisierung. 48 Damit erkla¨rt sich nicht nur das implizite ‚Spiel‘ mit dem weißen Aussatz, der Mirjam in einem Tun-Ergehens-Zusammenhang befa¨llt (dazu Blum, aaO. [s. Anm. 38], 84f mit Anm. 176; ebd. auch zur Unterscheidung von a¨lterer Substanz und kompositioneller Fortschreibung in Nu 12), sondern auch die Form der Nisbe und die bemu¨hte nachho- lende Information in 12,1b. , תח מדן י ם Vgl. Schmidt, EdF (s. Anm. 43), 118–122; R. Blum & E. Blum, Zippora und ihr 49 in: E. Blum/C. Macholz/E. Stegemann (Hgg.), Die hebra¨ische Bibel und ihre zweifache Nachgeschichte. FS R. Rendtorff, Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1990, 41–54 = E. Blum, Textgestalt und Komposition (FAT 69), Tu¨bingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010, 123– 136. Neben den in letzterem Beitrag entfalteten Bedeutungsaspekten du¨rfte u¨ber die Se- -als „Todesgefahr/to¨dliches Strafgericht“ (Ps 51,16; vgl. M. Kedar מד י ם mantik von Klopfstein, Art. dam, ThWAT 2 [1977], 248–266, hier 260) auch ein Bezug auf die Blut- schuld Moses in Ex 2,11–12 im Blick (und eine su¨hnende Bedeutung des Beschnei- dungsblutes impliziert) sein. Diese Blutschuld ist kontextuell dann auch als einer der Der historische Mose und die Fru¨hgeschichte Israels 51 Israels fu¨r seine Aufgabe zugeru¨stet. Literarisch du¨rfte der Abschnitt bereits zur spa¨tvorexilischen Haupterza¨hlung geho¨rt haben.50 Innerhalb der priesterlichen Komposition wird die Episode vom Abfall der Israeliten zum Baal Peor in Num 25,1–5 fortgeschrieben mit der fre- velhaften Beziehung eines Israeliten mit einer Midianiterin „vor den Augen Moses und den Augen der ganzen Gemeinde der Israeliten“ (25,6). Deren To¨tung durch den Aaroniden Pinchas beendet die Plage, die u¨ber die Israeliten gekommen war, und begru¨ndet die feste Zusage des Priester- amtes fu¨r Pinchas und seine Nachkommen (25,10ff). Man kann darin eine verdeckte Kritik an Moses eigener Verschwa¨gerung mit Midian sehen, die in genuinen P-Texten nicht erwa¨hnt wird; jedenfalls aber ist damit ein ‚Vorbildcharakter‘ Moses in dieser Hinsicht drastisch ausgeschlossen.51 Ganz andere Wege geht die Geschichte in Ex 18, die Mose und seinen midianitischen Schwiegervater Jethro mitsamt Moses Familie am „Gottes- berg“ zusammenfu¨hrt. Wie zuletzt Volker Haarmann sorgfa¨ltig herausge- arbeitet hat,52 zielt die nachpriesterlich eingeschriebene Episode 18,1–12 auf die JHWH-Erkenntnis des midianitischen Priesters angesichts des Ex- odusgeschehens und auf die Anerkennung dieser Bekehrung durch Aaron und „alle A¨ ltesten Israels“ mit ihrer Teilnahme53 an der von Jethro initi- ierten Opferfeier „vor Gott“ (18,12). Nicht zuletzt erkennen damit die Re- pra¨sentanten des Volkes auch die Legitimita¨t der Frau Moses und „ihrer ( ! ) S o¨ hne“ (18,3.6) in Israel an. in Ex 18,2b א ח שר ל ו ח י ה Noch pointierter wird diese Thematik profiliert, wenn die Angabe als Begru¨ndung dafu¨r, dass Moses Frau und So¨hne sich bei Jethro aufhalten, nicht nur deren – zuvor nicht erza¨hlte – Ru¨ckkehr nach Midian in knappster Form ‚nachholt‘, pi. in Dtn 24,1–4 und Jes חלש sondern entsprechend der pra¨gnanten Verwendung von 50,1 von einer vorausgegangenen Scheidung der Ehe54 spricht. Dann impliziert die Er- za¨hlung deren faktische Ru¨cknahme, ermo¨glicht durch die erneute Zufu¨hrung von Frau und Kindern durch den Schwiegervater und dessen Zuwendung zu JHWH in Wort und Tat. Sie unterstellt Mose damit einerseits ein ‚vorbildliches‘ Verhalten im Sinne der Pro-

Gru¨nde fu¨r die na¨chtliche Bedrohung in 4,24 einzubeziehen, zumal auch die Konnexio- nen mit 2,15; 4,19 darauf hindeuten. 50 Darauf deuten die wichtigsten Querbezu¨ge im Nahkontext (s. vorstehende Anm.). Die nachpriesterlichen Verse 4,21–23 stellen auch einen Bezug zur Passau¨berlieferung her, insbesondere zum (ebenfalls nachpriesterlichen) Abschnitt 12,21ff, allerdings verbunden mit einer Neudeutung, die Bedrohung und Rettung nun auf den Sohn bezieht. 51 Vgl. auch Knauf, Midian (s. Anm. 3), 164. 52 V. Haarmann, JHWH-Verehrer der Vo¨lker. Die Hinwendung von Nichtisraeliten zum Gott Israels in alttestamentlichen U¨ berlieferungen (AThANT 91), Zu¨rich: TVZ, 2008, 59–94. 53 Das literarkritisch oft vermisste ‚Hinzukommen‘ Moses eru¨brigt sich in V. 12; in der Logik der Erza¨hlung ist er von V. 6 an immer da. . לּשׂ וּ ח םי .So zuletzt Ges18 s.v 54 ˙ 52 Erhard Blum grammatik von Esr 9–10 und Num 25,6ff(!), ero¨ffnet aber andererseits einen dort nicht vorgesehenen Weg fu¨r familia¨re Beziehungen zwischen Israeliten und Nichtisraeliten.55 In historischer Perspektive kann eine midianitische Verschwa¨gerung Moses auch mit der unverkennbaren Nachhaltigkeit und dem wahrscheinlich recht hohen Alter dieser Tradition als Element der ‚Biographie‘ der geschichtlichen Mosegestalt nicht erwiesen, freilich auch nicht ausgeschlossen werden. Alternativ ist mit der Mo¨glichkeit zu rechnen, dass Kontakte/Beziehungen Moses zu Midianitern in diesem Motiv nachtra¨g- lich einen personalisierten narrativen Ausdruck gefunden haben. So oder so bleibt die Frage, weshalb dieser Midianitertradition anscheinend von Anfang an ein betra¨chtliches Gewicht zukam. Schon lange und nicht ohne Grund wird damit das Problem der Herkunft und Vorgeschichte des JHWH-Glaubens in Israel verbunden.

IV. Mose und die JHWH-Verehrung in Israel

Bis in die ju¨ngste Zeit hat die sogenannte „Midianiter- oder Keniter-Hy- pothese“ die religionsgeschichtliche Diskussion u¨ber die urspru¨ngliche Heimat der JHWH-Verehrung bestimmt. Entlastet von mancherlei speku- lativen Rekonstruktionen zu einem vermeintlich formativen Kadesch- Aufenthalt der (Proto-) Israeliten hat sich als Kern die Hypothese einer Vermittlung der Verehrung des Gottes JHWH von Midianitern/Kenitern an Gruppen, die in dem entstehenden Israel aufgegangen sind, gehalten. Sie stu¨tzt sich im Alten Testament neben den Midianiter-Texten im Pen- tateuch (besonders Ex 18) vor allem auf poetische Theophanietraditionen von einem dramatischen Erscheinen JHWHs (zum Kampf) aus Bergregio- nen der su¨dlichen Wu¨ste. Genannt werden na¨herhin die Bereiche Seir/ Edom/Sinai (Ri 5,4f), Teman/Gebirge Paran/Kuschan/Midian (Hab 3,3.7) bzw. Sinai/Seir/Gebirge Paran (Dtn 33,2). Als außerbiblische Quelle wird hiermit vor allem eine a¨gyptische Liste von „Schasu-La¨ndern“ verglichen, die in verschiedenen Inschriften (teilweise) erhalten ist, die a¨lteste aus einem Tempel in Soleb von Amenophis III. (Ende 15. Jahrhundert v. Chr.), eine ju¨ngere (vollsta¨ndig erhaltene) aus einem Tempel Ramses’ II.56 Darin

55 Als Strukturanalogie auf einer anderen Ebene geho¨rt hierher auch der Umgang mit der JHWH-Bekennerin Rahab in Jos 2 etc.; dazu wieder Haarmann, aaO., 100–130. 56 Die ju¨ngste U¨ bersetzung und Kommentierung der Liste(n) bietet Weippert, Textbuch (s. Anm. 36), 183f, Nr. 075; vgl. zuletzt auch O. Keel, Die Geschichte Jerusalems und die Entstehung des Monotheismus. Teil 1 (OLB IV,1), Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2007, 200; M. Leuenberger, Gott in Bewegung. Religions- und theologiegeschichtliche Beitra¨ge zu Gottesvorstellungen im alten Israel (FAT 76), Tu¨bingen: Mohr Siebeck, Der historische Mose und die Fru¨hgeschichte Israels 53 findet sich neben dem „Schasu-Land Seir“57 auch ein „Schasu-Land Yahw3“, dessen Namenselement zumeist mit dem Gottesnamen ‚JHWH‘ in Verbindung gebracht wird und in der a¨gyptischen Liste als Toponym zugleich einen Gott bezeichnen ko¨nnte.58 M. Leuenberger hat ju¨ngst die gela¨ufige Schlussfolgerung daraus zusammengefasst, wonach „die a¨ltesten Belege fu¨r Jhwh einen su¨dpala¨stinischen Ursprung im Bereich Edoms und der Araba indizieren“.59 Dies ist noch nicht die Midianiter-Hypothese, aber es ist nicht weit davon entfernt. In ju¨ngster Zeit werden jedoch grundlegende Elemente dieses religionsgeschichtlichen Bildes bzw. Teile seiner Quellenbasis infrage gestellt. Dies betrifft zum einen JHWHs Herkunft aus dem Su¨den, zum anderen die Begru¨ndung der Midianiter-Hypothese mit einem Text wie Ex 18. Von letzterem wurde schon gehandelt. Wenn, wie oben skizziert, jede Faser des Textes auf Jethros Bekehrung zu JHWH und damit verbunden auf die Le- gitimierung von Moses midianitischer Verschwa¨gerung hin angelegt ist, bleibt kein Raum mehr fu¨r eine methodisch in irgendeiner Weise greifbare alte U¨ berlieferung von einer Kultgemeinschaft zwischen midianitischen und (proto-)israelitischen Gruppen am Gottesberg, die hier gemeinsam dem Gott JHWH huldigten.60 Verwunderlich ist dieses ‚Schweigen‘ der alttestamentlichen Erza¨hlu¨berlieferung zu Verha¨ltnissen der Fru¨hzeit freilich nicht: israelitische und juda¨ische Tradenten dachten nicht religions- geschichtlich, und dass sie noch JHWH verehrende „Midianiter“ kennen konnten, dafu¨r gibt es keine Hinweise.61 Kritisch fu¨r die Midianiter-Hypo- these wu¨rde dieser Befund allerdings dann, wenn sich auch die sonstigen

2011, 14–17 (s. ders., Jhwhs Herkunft aus dem Su¨den. Archaölogische Befunde – biblische U¨ berlieferungen – historische Korrelationen, in: ZAW 122 [2010], 1–19), jeweils mit weiterer Lit. 57 M. Weippert, Art. Edom und Israel, TRE 9 (1982), 291–299, hier 292, rechnet damit, dass Seir als erstes der sechs aufgelisteten Schasu-La¨nder „als eine Art U¨ berschrift fun- giert haben du¨rfte, die den allgemeinen geographischen Rahmen der folgenden Namen…angab“; aufgenommen bei Leuenberger, aaO., 17. 58 So die verbreitete Deutung mit Knauf, Midian (s. Anm. 3), 46f. 59 Leuenberger, aaO., 17 (im Original gro¨ßtenteils kursiv). 60 Vgl. dazu bspw. – in unterschiedlichen historischen Rekonstruktionen – Noth, U¨ berlieferungsgeschichte, 152; Gunneweg, Mose (s. Anm. 27), 7; Schmidt, EdF (s. Anm. 43), 116f (mit Lit.). Zu Kritik an dieser modernen Umkehrung der Pointe des Textes s. bereits Haarmann, JHWH-Verehrer (s. Anm. 52), 78–83. 61 Vgl. auch K. Koch, Jahwa¨s U¨ bersiedlung vom Wu¨stenberg nach Kanaan. Zur Herkunft von Israels Gottesversta¨ndnis, in: M. Dietrich/I. Kottsieper (Hgg.), „Und Mose schrieb dieses Lied auf“. Studien zum Alten Testament und zum Alten Orient. FS O. Loretz (AOAT 250), Mu¨nster: Ugarit-Verlag, 1998, 437–474, hier 442 (= ders., Der Gott Israels und die Go¨tter des Orients. Religionsgeschichtliche Studien II [FRLANT 216], Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2007, 171–209, hier 176). 54 Erhard Blum Belege fu¨r eine alte JHWH-Verehrung im Su¨den als tru¨gerisch erweisen sollten. Eben diese Mo¨glichkeit wird in neueren Beitra¨gen pointiert zur Dis- kussion gestellt. So insistiert M. Ko¨ckert darauf, dass eine Lokalisierung des Schasu-Landes „Jhw(h)“ der Ortsnamenlisten von Soleb bzw. Amara- West in der su¨dlichen Region von Edom/Seir unsicher bleibe.62 Aus der Analyse von Ps 18 legt sich ihm zudem eine genuine Beheimatung der Theophanie-Tradition in der Jerusalemer Tempeltheologie nahe; erst nach Verlust von „Land und Tempel“ sei sie in den hymnischen Rahmungen des Deboralieds etc. auf den Sinai u¨bertragen worden.63 Offensichtlich ist dabei von vornherein nur an eine Jerusalemer bzw. judaïsche Traditions- geschichte gedacht. Die hier lediglich skizzenartig angesprochene Datie- rung der Rahmentexte mit Theophanieelementen in Ri 5; Dtn 33; Hab 3 und Ps 68 hat sodann H. Pfeiffer einer eingehenden Untersuchung unter- zogen.64 Als Archetyp dieser Textgruppe nimmt er das Deboralied in Ri 5 an. Freilich geho¨re hier die „Edom-Theophanie“ in V. 4f schon zu einer zweiten hymnischen Bearbeitung (V. 3.4–5*.31a) des in seinem Kernbe- stand nordisraelitischen Liedes. Dieser Bearbeitung gehe es in nachexilischer Zeit um „die Vernichtung aller inneren und aüßeren Gottesfeinde sowie die Rettung der Gerechten (V. 31a)“. Noch spa¨ter, „als man mit ‚Edom‘ als Chiffre fu¨r das Gericht nichts mehr anzufangen wusste“, sei ein -hergestellt worden. Die anderen Theophanie (5,5 ז סה י נ י ) Bezug zum Sinai stu¨cke der genannten Textgruppe gelten als literarisch von Ri 5 abha¨ngig und werden in die hellenistische Zeit datiert. Von den hier nicht zu disku- tierenden literarkritischen Fragen ganz abgesehen65 geht die vorgeschlage- ne Deutung von Ri 5,4f jedoch nicht auf. Sie beruht auf einem Analogie- schluss von Jes 63,1–6 her, einem Abschnitt, aus dem „Edom“ in kontex- tuellen Lesungen als „Chiffre“ sowohl „fu¨r die Frevler im Innern der Zi- onsgemeinde“ als auch „fu¨r die dem Judentum feindlich gegenu¨berstehen-

62 M. Ko¨ckert, Wandlungen Gottes im antiken Israel, in: BThZ 22 (2005), 3–36, hier 20 Anm. 43. Fu¨r die Region Jahu bleibe vielmehr „das Gebiet zwischen dem Ostjordanland („Seir-La¨nder“) und dem Karmel“ zur Auswahl. Zu seiner Argumentation mit dem Ort „Gint-Karmel“ auf der Kopie von Amara-West vgl. aber Leuenberger, aaO. (s. Anm. 56), 17 Anm. 43. 63 M. Ko¨ckert, ders., Die Theophanie des Wettergottes Jahwe in Psalm 18, in: T. Richter/ D. Prechel/J. Klinger (Hgg.), Kulturgeschichten. Altorientalische Studien. FS V. Haas, Saarbru¨cken: SDV, 2001, 209–226, hier 225f. 64 H. Pfeiffer, Jahwes Kommen von Su¨den. Jdc 5; Hab 3; Dtn 33 und Ps 68 in ihrem literatur- und theologiegeschichtlichen Umfeld (FRLANT 211), Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2005. 65 Siehe dazu die folgenden Zitate ebd. 258, gru¨ndliche und u¨berzeugende Analyse bei W. Groß, Richter (HThK.AT), Freiburg u. a.: Herder, 2009, z.St. Der historische Mose und die Fru¨hgeschichte Israels 55 de Weltmacht“ erschlossen wird.66 Selbst wenn man einmal fu¨r das Jesaja- buch eine solch polyvalente Chiffre unterstellt67 und auch davon ausgeht, dass diese den Adressaten der zweiten hymnischen Bearbeitung vertraut war, ha¨tten die Leser von Ri 5 diese Bedeutung hier nicht applizieren ko¨n- nen, weil JHWH in Jes 63 von seinem Gerichtshandeln in/an Edom68 in Ri 5,4f dagegen aus Seir zum Krieg/Gerichtshandeln ,( אב ) “kommt„ -Das eine ist das schiere Gegenteil des anderen. Dement 69.( י אצ ) “auszieht„ .in V. 5 nicht auf einem Missversta¨ndnis ז סה י נ י sprechend beruht auch Angesichts der komplexen biblischen Quellenlage und der Unbe- stimmtheiten des a¨gyptischen Materials nimmt es wunder, dass ausgerechnet verha¨ltnisma¨ßig klar zu datierende Prima¨rquellen fu¨r diese Frage- stellung zumeist nur am Rande in den Blick genommen werden: die In- schriften von Kuntillet ‘Ag˘rud.70 Das gravierendste Hindernis bildet dabei der Umstand, dass mehrere Jahrzehnte nach der Entdeckung immer noch keine Editio princeps vorliegt, doch du¨rften die bisher publizierten Daten ein zwar begrenztes, fu¨r unsere Zwecke aber hinreichendes Bild ermo¨glichen. Der 1975/76 ausgegrabene Geba¨udekomplex liegt etwa auf halbem Weg zwischen Kadesch Barnea und Elath, wenige Kilometer westlich der Ver- bindung zwischen Mittelmeer und Rotem Meer, die arabisch als darb el- Ghazza bezeichnet wird. Die Ortslage mit Wasserversorgung, die archi- tektonische Anlage, die gefundenen Hinterlassenschaften und die In- schriften deuten am ehesten auf eine Raststa¨tte fu¨r Reisende auf der genannten Handelsroute. Fu¨r die zuna¨chst vertretene Deutung als Heiligtum fehlt es an eindeutigen Indizien,71 gegen eine „Schule“ spricht die abseitige

66 Pfeiffer, aaO., 82–86, die Zitate S. 85. 67 Sie beruht allerdings auf kombinatorischen Endtextlesungen, die nicht ohne Alternati- ven sind. 68 Das Gericht ist vollzogen, wie die blutigen Kleider und V. 3a zeigen. Pfeiffers futurische U¨ bersetzung der Verse 3aßb. 5a.6 ist sprachlich nicht mo¨glich; nach der Vokalisierung der wyqtl-Formen durch die Masoreten wa¨ren diese modal, hier genauer: final, zu verstehen.˙ Nicht nur der Sachzusammenhang, sondern auch die AK-Formen in V. 3b.5b zeigen aber deutlich an, dass man vom Konsonantentext ausgehen muss und sog. Kon- sekutivformen zu lesen hat. 69 Vgl. schon Groß, aaO. (s. Anm. 65), 311. 70 Die (mir bekannte) Ausnahme ist Keel, aaO. (s. Anm. 56), 201. In der Monographie von H. Pfeiffer beispielsweise (aaO., 261) wie auch bei Leuenberger, aaO. (s. Anm. 56), 23, kommen die Inschriften eher beilaüfig in den Blick. 71 N. Na’aman/N. Lissovsky, Kuntillet ‘Ajrud, Sacred Trees and the Asherah, in: TA 35 (2008), 186–208, postulieren zuletzt ein Baumheiligtum mit einem Aschera-Kult. Der einzig ‚greifbare‘ Befund, der dafu¨r in Anschlag gebracht wird, ist eine gro¨ßere Anzahl von Textilienresten, die mit besagtem Baumheiligtum in Verbindung gebracht werden. In einer Station fu¨r Handelsreisende erscheinen dafu¨r jedoch auch andere Gru¨nde denkbar. 56 Erhard Blum Lage. Die Anlage hat offenbar nur kurze Zeit bestanden. Von den Ausgra¨- bern ins ausgehende 9. Jahrhundert bzw. beginnende 8. Jahrhundert v. Chr. datiert, werden die archaölogischen Daten derzeit kontrovers beur- teilt. In der Diskussion sind Datierungen zwischen dem Anfang und dem letztem Drittel des 8. Jahrhunderts: Nach L. Singer-Avitz deutet der Kera- mikbefund auf eine Zeit um 725 v. Chr.; I. Finkelstein und E. Piasetzky rechnen dagegen mit einer fru¨heren Gru¨ndung der Anlage: „the 14C data together with historical consideration seem to indicate that Kuntillet ‘Ajrud functioned between ca. 795 and 730/720 BCE.“72 Auf das fru¨he oder mittlere 8. Jahrhundert deuten die palaögraphischen Ansetzungen der In- schriften und wohl auch die geschichtlichen Rahmenbedingungen (s.i.F.). Obwohl die Gebrauchskeramik vorwiegend (wenn auch nicht aus- schließlich) der EZ IIB im judaïschen Negev und der Schefela (Tell es- Seba’, Arad, Lachisch) entspricht, was – wenig u¨berraschend – auf diese Region als Versorgungshinterland schließen la¨sst, dokumentieren die In- schriften in erster Linie nordisraelitische Besucher/Reisende. Dies zeigen die ausnahmslos nordisraelitischen Formen der mit „JHWH“ gebildeten theophoren Namen und Segens-/Grußwu¨nsche bei jhwhˇ smrn, d. h. „JHWH von Samaria“.73 Drei auf Wandputz geschriebene Texte werden palaögraphisch als „pho¨nizisch“ bestimmt.74 Inwieweit daraus auf eine andere Herkunft dieses Schreibers zu schließen ist, kann vor der vollsta¨ndigen Publikation nicht substantiell diskutiert werden.75 Darf man von daher vor allem von nordisraelitischen Handelsunternehmungen mit dem Ziel Edom/Nordarabien als Hintergrund ausgehen, kommt als ‚Zeitfenster‘ fu¨r die Anlage am ehesten die erste Ha¨lfte des 8. Jahrhunderts v. Chr. infrage, d. h. das sich politisch und territorial gegenu¨ber den Aramaërn konsoli- dierende Israel unter Joasch und Jerobeam II.76

72 I. Finkelstein/E. Piasetzky, The Date of Kuntillet ‘Ajrud: The 14C Perspective, in: TA 35 (2008), 135–185, hier 184. Zur Diskussion vgl. L. Singer-Avitz, The Date of Kuntillet ‘Ajrud, in: TA 33 (2006), 186–228; dies., The Date of Kuntillet ‘Ajrud: A Rejoinder, in: TA 36 (2009), 110–119; L. Freud, The Date of Kuntillet ‘Ajrud (2006): A Reply to Singer- Avitz, in: TA 35 (2008), 169–174; Na’aman/Lissovsky, aaO. 73 Vgl. ausfu¨hrlich A. Lemaire, Date et origine des inscriptions Hebraiques et Pheńiciennes de Kuntillet ‘Ajrud, SEL 1 (1984), 131–143, hier 132–134. 74 J. Renz, Die althebraïschen Inschriften. Teil 1: Text und Kommentar (HAE I), Darm- stadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 57f mit Lit. 75 Das in S. Ahituv, HaKetav VeHaMiktav. Handbook of Ancient Inscriptions from the Land of Israel and the Kingdoms beyond the Jordan from the Period of the First Com- monwealth (BEL 21), Jerusalem: Mossad Bialik, 2005 (Hebr.), 241, publizierte Foto einer der Wandinschriften (vgl. auch u. Anm. 80) deutet palaögraphisch auf eine große Na¨he zu den (aramaïschen) Putzinschriften vom Tell Deir ‘Alla. 76 Die folgenden Jahrzehnte bis 734/32 bzw. 722/21 waren wieder durch innere Destabili- sierungen und aüßere Bedrohungen gepra¨gt. Der historische Mose und die Fru¨hgeschichte Israels 57 Drei bisher (vorlaüfig) publizierte Segens-/Grußwu¨nsche, die auf zwei Vorratskru¨gen gefunden wurden, nennen als Gottheit, der die Adressaten befohlen werden, JHWH („und seine Aschera“). Dabei wird JHWH einmal als „JHWH von Samaria“ (KAgr[9]:8) bezeichnet, zweimal als „JHWH von Teman“ (KAgr[9]:9)77 bzw. „JHWH von ha-Teman/JHWH des Su¨- dens“ (KAgr[9]:10),78 dazu vermutlich zweimal in einer Wandinschrift (in und 79( ןמית ) pho¨nizischer“ Schrift), hier wohl beide Male mit Diphthong„ zumindest einmal mit Artikel.80 H a¨ l t m an sich die Situation der Fernrei- senden vor Augen liegen, die Gru¨nde gerade fu¨r diese Gottesbezeichnun- gen auf der Hand: Sie benennen innerhalb der Segenswu¨nsche die Gott- heit entweder aus der Perspektive ihrer Herkunft (JHWH von Samaria) oder in der Perspektive ihres Reisezieles (JHWH von Teman).81 Beide Male wird JHWH nicht nach einem einzelnen Kultort, sondern nach einer Re- gion na¨her bestimmt. Fu¨r „Teman“ ist dies wohl Konsens.82 Der Ausdruck wird nach den biblischen Belegen entweder synonym mit „Edom“ verwendet oder spezifischer fu¨r dessen su¨dliche (?) Region. Dabei blieb freilich Hebraërn der geographische Name in seiner etymologischen Bedeu- tung transparent. Wie die Verwendung mit Artikel in den Inschriften an- zeigt, lag deshalb in diesem Fall die generalisierende appellative Variante „der Su¨den“ durchaus nahe. Bei „Samaria“ kannn man auch an die Stadt,

77 Die in Renz, aaO., 62 nur in der U¨ bersetzung und in Klammern gebotene Lesung scheint inzwischen gesichert zu sein; vgl. die Nachzeichnung in Keel, Geschichte (s. Anm. 56), 201 Abb. 122a; Ahituv, aaO., 238 (Foto und Nachzeichnung ebd., 239, bieten dgg. den Text nicht vollsta¨ndig); F.W. Dobbs-Allsopp u. a., Hebrew Inscriptions. Texts from the Biblical Period of the Monarchy with Concordance, New Haven/London: Yale University Press, 2005, 293f. 78 Die Inschrift steht auf dem sog. „Pithos 2“ oberhalb eines la¨ngeren, fragmentarisch er- die Ausdru¨cke in der)] כ אל ש ר . י לאש . שאמ . נח ן [ ה א ו א פם ת ה ]. ו ןתנ . הל . והי . בבלכ ו :haltenen Satzes Klammer nur bei Ahituv, aaO., 236); vgl. J.M. Hadley, Some drawings and inscriptions on two pithoi from Kuntillet ‘Ajrud, in: VT 37 (1987), 180–213, hier 187; Dobbs-All- sopp, aaO., 296. Renz, aaO., 64, rechnet hier mit zwei nicht zusammengeho¨rigen Tex- ten; die Gru¨nde werden nicht ausgefu¨hrt, ebenso wenig, weshalb die beiden Teile in umgekehrter Reihenfolge pra¨sentiert werden. 79 Die Monophthongierung voraussetzende Schreibung auf den Pithoi entspricht einem Dialektmerkmal des nordisraelitischen Hebraïsch. 80 Vgl. die Fotographie in Ahituv, aaO., 241. Trotz der aüßerst fragmentarischen Erhaltung Die zweite ]… הוהי .˚ה˚תי[ :ist hier in der zweiten Zeile doch einigermaßen sicher zu lesen ] נתי ו .ל[י] הוה ][ ˚תי˚ ןמ . :H a¨ lfte der ersten Zeile ist bei Ahituv folgendermaßen arrangiert . ו התרשאל ˚ 81 So schon recht deutlich J.A. Emerton, New Light on Israelite Religion: The Implications of the Inscriptions from Kuntillet ‘Ajrud, in: ZAW 94 (1982), 2–20, hier 10: „… the idea of Yahweh’s connexion with Teman would be relevant to a blessing on someone who hoped for divine protection on the journey.“ 82 Vgl. bes. R. de Vaux, Te´man, ville ou re´gion d’E´dom?, in: RB 76 (1969), 379–385; .I u. II; E.A. Knauf, Art תּ מי ָ ן .I u. II mit Lit.; Ges18, s.v תּ מי ָ ן .Emerton, aaO. 9; HAL, s.v Teman, NBL 3 (2011), 799. ¨ ¨ 58 Erhard Blum dann freilich als Pars pro Toto fu¨r das Land denken (in Analogie Hos 8,5 f]): Gewiss wird es auch] ע ג של מ ר ו ן Ko¨n 13,32] oder 1] רע רמשי ו ן zu in der Residenzstadt Kultsta¨tten fu¨r den Reichsgott gegeben haben, Zen- trum des Staatskultes war jedoch Bethel. Wenn schon die massive juda¨- ische Kritik an dem no¨rdlichen Kult (inkl. ihres Vorlaufs bei Amos und Hosea) von einem zentralen Heiligtum in der Hauptstadt schweigt, eru¨b- rigt sich die textarchaölogische Suche. Fu¨r unseren Zusammenhang entscheidend ist die Frage, wie die fu¨r den Nordisraeliten Amaryaw und seine ‚Kollegen‘ offenbar selbstversta¨ndliche Sicht von dem in Teman/„im Su¨den“ beheimateten und wirkma¨chtigen JHWH zu erkla¨ren ist.83 Mit J.A. Emerton wird man nicht umhin ko¨nnen, hier die oben genannten Theophanietraditionen von Ri 5,3 f; Dtn 33,2; Hab 3,3 etc. heranzuziehen.84 Mit der Rede von jhwh ha-teman gemeinsam ist ihnen – zum einen – nicht nur die su¨dliche „Beheimatung“ des Gottes Israels, sondern auch deren Unbestimmtheit, wie sie sich den wechselnden Bezeichnungen fu¨r den Raum um Edom ausdru¨ckt. Damit ist weder u¨ber in Ri 5, noch u¨ber die Vorstellung eines ז סה י נ י das Alter des Epithetons bestimmten, mit JHWH verbundenen „Gottesbergs“ geurteilt. Sowohl die inschriftliche wie die hymnische Tradition scheinen aber darauf hinzu- deuten, dass der „Sinai“ fu¨r Israeliten in der Ko¨nigszeit (und wohl nicht erst dann) kein real identifizierbarer Berg war. Auf der Sinai-Halbinsel wurde er erst im Zuge der narrativen Verknu¨pfung von Exodus und Got- tesberg gesucht.85 Gemeinsam ist den a¨ltesten Theophanietraditionen und den Kuntillet ‘A g˘rud-Belegen zum anderen die Heimat im Nordreich Israel. Fu¨r den Hauptbestand von Ri 5 ist dies kaum strittig; der Versuch, die Theopha- nieelemente in Ri 5,4 f u¨ber Jahrhunderte davon abzuru¨cken, hat m. E. keine Basis (s. o.). Mit einem a¨hnlichen Sachverhalt ist aber auch bei Dtn 33 zu rechnen. Der knappe Wunsch fu¨r Juda (33,7) und das Segensbild zu Joseph (33,13–17) sprechen fu¨r sich.86 Zu Letzterem geho¨rt aber auch das

83 Die Auskunft von Pfeiffer, aaO. (s. Anm. 64), 262: „Jahwe besaß … im 9. Jh. v. Chr. Kultsta¨tten an den genannten Orten“ (Hervorhebung im Orig.), verschiebt nur – mit einer sachlich nicht belegten Annahme – das Problem. Wie gru¨ndlich ihm dann selbst diese Annahme aus dem Blick gera¨t, zeigt das abschließende Resu¨mee von einem „durch und durch negativen Befund[] fu¨r eine Beheimatung im Su¨den“ (aaO., 268). 84 Emerton, aaO., 9f und besonders 12f. 85 Knauf, Midian (s. Anm. 3), 50ff. 86 Darauf hat bereits Isac Leo Seeligmann mit sicherer Hand den Finger gelegt, indem er vom „northern character of the Blessing of Moses established by vv. 7 and 16“ sprach; ders., A Psalm from Pre-Regal Times, in: VT 14 (1964), 75–92 (= ders., Gesammelte Studien zur Hebra¨ischen Bibel [FAT 41], Tu¨bingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004, 349–364, hier 363). Dtn 33,7 kehrt den davidischen Blick auf die Nordsta¨mme gleichsam in no¨rdlicher Spiegelung um. Der historische Mose und die Fru¨hgeschichte Israels 59 mit Knauf als „Nebenform הנס in V. 16a, in dem כש נ סי נ ה JHWH-Epitheton 87.( הרש / רש י Sina¯/Sı¯na¯ zu Sı¯nay“ aufzufassen ist (analog zu* bildet demnach das no¨rdliche Gegenstu¨ck zum Jerusalemer ש כ נ סי נ הנס -Jes 8,18). Grundsa¨tzlicher formuliert: Die implizite Konkur) צ י ו ן ב ה הר ש כ ןכשה renz zwischen Sinai und Zion bedeutet fu¨r die Ko¨nigszeit keine historische Aporie,88 sondern la¨sst das Interesse des Nordreichs an einer Pflege der Tradition, nicht nur des Exodus, sondern auch der Heimat JHWHs „im Su¨den“ plausibel erscheinen, nicht zuletzt im profilierenden Gegenu¨ber zur Jerusalemer Gottesberg-Zaphon(= Nord!)-Tradition, zu der es im Nordreich Israel offenbar kein ‚natu¨rliches‘ Pendant gab.89 Die angesprochenen genuinen Bezu¨ge vom Nordreich Israel zu Edom/Seir fu¨hren dar- u¨ber hinaus auf weitere Traditionszusammenha¨nge. So musste die Rolle der Zwillings- bruderschaft zwischen Jakob/Israel und Esau/Edom in der unverkennbar nordisraelitischen Jakoberza¨hlung (Gen 25B; 27–33) schon der Geographie wegen immer wieder auffallen. Ebenso blieb die Lokalisierung des ersten Teils der Jakob-Esau-Geschichte in Beer-Sheva (Gen 28,10) gegenu¨ber der ansonsten konsequent im Bereich von Gilead und ‚Joseph‘ verorteten Handlung isoliert. In dieser Hinsicht mochte die Rede vom Nord- in Am 7,9.16 und von Wallfahrten aus dem Norden nach ב י ית קחש .bzw י קחש reich als Beer-Sheva in Am 5,5 (8,14) immerhin als Indiz fu¨r komplexere Zusammenha¨nge dienen; zugleich aber blieben diese Elemente merkwu¨rdig vereinzelt. Im Licht der Mose- Traditionen in Verbindung mit den Kuntillet ‘Ag˘rud-Texten wird nun deutlich, dass Geographie nicht alles ist und Vieles hier zusammenpasst: Isaak ist der Vater von Israel und Edom/Seir, mit dem sich Israel als ‚Heimat‘ JHWHs in genuiner Weise verbunden sieht. Beer-Sheva, der Haftpunkt der Isaak-Tradition, wiederum stellt fu¨r Nordisraeliten die natu¨rliche und ‚letzte‘ Station dar vor dem langen Weg durch die Wu¨ste nach Edom, d. h. in das Su¨dland JHWHs (1 Ko¨n 19,3.890).91 In der juda¨ischen Traditionsbildung erkla¨rt sich aus dem ‚traditionell‘ konkurrierenden Gegenu¨ber von Sinai und Zion das Zugleich von Rezeption und Abgrenzung im Blick

87 Knauf, aaO., 50; ebd. Anm. 248: „SNH ist dann der spa¨teren Einfu¨gung des y in SNY ent- gangen, aber dafu¨r nach Ex. 3 vokalisiert worden.“ 88 Vgl. den diachronen Erkla¨rungsversuch von Leuenberger, Gott (s. Anm. 56), 27, in der Diskussion mit Pfeiffer, aaO. 89 Was dies fu¨r die Gestalt der Ko¨nigsideologie im Norden, fu¨r Traditionen wie das Ko¨- nigtum Gottes etc. ebenda bedeutete, wa¨re noch auszuloten. 90 L.E. Axelsson, The Lord Rose up from Seir. Studies in the History and Traditions of the Negev and Southern Judah (CB.OT 25), Lund: Almqvist & Wiksell International, 1987, 62f. 181, fu¨hrt die Elijageschichte als „literary evidence“ fu¨r nordisraelitische Wallfahr- ten zum Gottesberg u¨ber Beer Sheva an, wobei er Elijas Reise fu¨r historisch ha¨lt. In Wahrheit setzt der Text die Katastrophe des Nordreichs und wohl auch Judas schon voraus (vgl. E. Blum, Der Prophet und das Verderben Israels. Eine ganzheitliche, historisch-kritische Lektu¨re von 1 Regum XVII-XIX, in: VT 47 [1997], 277–292 = ders., Textgestalt [s. Anm. 49] 339–353); gleichwohl du¨rfte die darin vorausgesetzte Reiseroute lange eingefu¨hrt sein. 91 Zu diesen Aspekten der Jakobu¨berlieferung vgl. jetzt Blum, Jacob Traditions (s. Anm. 20). 60 Erhard Blum auf die Gottesbergtradition nach dem politischen Ende des Nordreiches. Einen – letztlich gescheiterten – Versuch der ‚Distanzierung‘ bildet die Ersetzung des alten Sinai-Na- mens durch „Horeb“ in der im weitesten Sinne dtn/dtr U¨ berlieferung. Von den Kuntillet ‘Ag˘rud-Befunden und ihren Implikationen her gewinnt auch die herko¨mmliche Deutung der o.g. spa¨tbronzezeitlichen Belege aus A¨ gypten an Wahrscheinlichkeit. Spricht demnach in religionsgeschichtli- cher Perspektive doch alles fu¨r eine Herkunft der JHWH-Verehrung aus den an das su¨dliche Kanaan angrenzenden Regionen von Midian/Edom, dann beha¨lt auch die Hypothese eine hohe Plausibilita¨t, dass dieser JHWH-Kult durch eine „Exodus-Gruppe“, die das Gelingen ihres „Aus- zugs“ diesem Gott zuschrieb, an das sich in Kanaan konstituierende Israel vermittelt wurde. Das gleiche gilt fu¨r die Annahme, dass eine Fu¨hrungsgestalt namens „Mose“ in der Ursprungsgeschichte92 dieser Exodus-Gruppe eine zentrale Rolle spielte. Hatte die a¨ltere Forschung bis in die 80er Jahre des vorigen Jahrhunderts hinein mit einem religionsgeschichtlichen ‚Differenzmodell‘ gearbeitet, das im Wesentlichen eine Historisierung des in Juda seit der spa¨ten Ko¨nigszeit propagierten Antagonismus zwischen „Israel“ und seinem Gott einerseits und „Kanaan“ mit seiner Go¨tterwelt andererseits zur Voraussetzung hatte, so dominiert in der neueren Diskussion ein genetisches ‚Indifferenzmodell‘, in dem sich die Frage nach der „genuinen“, d. h. urspru¨nglichen JHWH-Tradition (im Unterschied zur „kanaana¨ischen Umwelt“) schon im Ansatz nicht stellt. Dieser Paradigmenwechsel in der historischen Fragestellung bedeutet eine grundlegende und wesentliche Korrektur. Unbeschadet dessen ist zu fragen, ob das versta¨ndliche Interesse an klaren, pointierten Erkla¨rungen nicht mitunter auch gewissen Vereinfa- chungen Vorschub geleistet hat. Dies gilt etwa fu¨r die verbreitete Zuordnung JHWHs zum Typ des syrischen Wettergottes. Setzt man die hier diskutierte su¨dliche Heimat JHWHs voraus, so erscheint es nicht unbedingt plausibel, fu¨r die ariden Regionen des su¨dlichen Edom bzw. der Midianiter eine Berggottheit vom Typ des nordsyrischen Wet- tergottes zu postulieren. Mit welchen Zu¨gen die Mosegruppe ihren Gott JHWH an das entstehende „Israel“ vermittelt hat, la¨sst sich, wenn u¨berhaupt, dann nur in vorsichtiger Rekonstruktion alter Traditionen erschließen. Dass JHWH Grundzu¨ge des Hadad-Typus zugewachsen sind, steht außer Frage, freilich auch die Integration von Zu¨gen des El- Typus etc. Generalisierende Bestimmungen sollten jedenfalls nicht als Ausgangspunkt und Maßstab fu¨r religionsgeschichtliche Einordnungen dienen. Kurzum: die Fragen nach Spezifika der „JHWH-Religion“ sind historisch durchaus geboten, sofern ihnen nicht das obsolete Pattern des „eigentlichen, genuinen etc.“ JHWH-Glaubens zugrunde gelegt wird. U¨ ber diese Problemanzeige hinaus bleibt in diesem Rahmen nur der Ver-

92 Die Begrenzung auf die „Ursprungsgeschichte“ ergibt sich aus der eindeutigen Be- schra¨nkung der Mosetradition auf das transjordanische Gebiet und aus der Unwahr- scheinlichkeit, dass „Mose“ sekunda¨r aus cisjordanischen Bezu¨gen verdra¨ngt worden wa¨re. Die U¨ berlieferung in Dtn 34 spiegelt quasi-a¨tiologisch den erkla¨rungsbedu¨rftigen Umstand, dass jedenfalls in der spa¨ten Ko¨nigszeit kein Mosegrab mehr gezeigt werden konnte. Der historische Mose und die Fru¨hgeschichte Israels 61 weis auf die weiterfu¨hrenden Beobachtungen und U¨ berlegungen bei Othmar Keel (2007).93 Die Frage, in welchem Maße die „Mosetraditionen“ im Nordreich Israel als mu¨ndliche und vor allem literarische U¨ berlieferungen konzeptionell und narrativ ausgearbeitet waren, kann hier nicht in der erforderlichen Breite und Differenziertheit aufgenommen werden. Zumindest Hosea scheint nach 12,14 im letzten Jahrzehnt des Ko¨nigreichs Israel eine bekannte, substantielle Exodus-Mose-U¨ berlieferung voraussetzen zu ko¨n- nen. Eine spezifische Mose-Sinai-Tradition ist bei ihm nicht erkennbar angesprochen. Gleichwohl verdient auch die Mo¨glichkeit einer solchen U¨ berlieferung eine sorgfa¨ltige Pru¨fung, insofern die literargeschichtlichen Indizien innerhalb der vorderen Sinaiperikope (Ex *19–24) auf Umrisse eines kompositionellen Zusammenhangs fu¨hren, der weder literarische Verknu¨pfungen mit einer vorausgehenden Exoduserza¨hlung noch solche zu einer Episode vom Goldenen Kalb etc. aufweist.94 Im Zentrum stand vielmehr die Mitteilung eines Rechtskorpus, des (spa¨ter so genannten) Bundesbuches,95 an Mose, vorbereitet durch eine Natur und Mensch be-

93 Keel, Geschichte (s. Anm. 56), §§ 238–245. 94 Der ‚Pra¨-Bundesbuch-A¨ tiologie‘ rechne ich zu: Ex 19,…(3a) 10–13a.14–19a; 20,18.21b (22aa); 20,24ff; *21,1–23,19 (Grundbestand des „Bundesbuches [BB]“) – fu¨r Ex 20 weit- gehend im Anschluss an M. Ko¨ckert, Wie kam das Gesetz an den Sinai?, in: C. Bult- mann/W. Dietrich/C. Levin (Hgg.), Vergegenwa¨rtigung des Alten Testaments. Beitra¨ge zur biblischen Hermeneutik. FS R. Smend, Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2002, 13–27, hier 20f = ders., Leben in Gottes Gegenwart. Studien zum Versta¨ndnis des Ge- setzes im Alten Testament (FAT 43), Tu¨bingen: Mohr Siebeck, 167–181, hier 174f. Der Erza¨hlungsabschluss mit der Mitteilung des Rechtskorpus durch Mose ist innerhalb des mehrfach u¨berarbeiteten Abschnitt 24,3–8* mo¨glicherweise noch (mit Ko¨ckert, ebd.) in 24,3 greifbar, vielleicht la¨sst sich aber auch kein Wortlaut mehr rekonstruieren. Der Er- za¨hlungsanfang ist naturgema¨ß nicht erhalten. Grundlegend fu¨r die Eigensta¨ndigkeit der Einheit ist (wiederum mit Ko¨ckert, ebd.) die ‚Wiederaufnahme‘ von 20,18bß in 20,21a. Werden gestu¨tzt darauf die Verse 19–21a (mit 23) als Eintragung verstanden, fallen damit der narrative Ru¨ckbezug auf die Verku¨ndigung des Dekalogs (bzw. seiner Vorstufe) (V. 29) und der Vorverweis auf Ex 32 (V. 20!) weg. 20,22* (par. 19,4) ist schon la¨nger als von Dtn 4 abha¨ngige Fortschreibung (KD) identifiziert; diese hat aus Dtn auch den komplettierten(!) Dekalog u¨bernommen, vgl. dazu E. Blum, The Decalogue and the Composition History of the Pentateuch, in: T. Dozeman/K. Schmid/B.J. Schwartz (Hgg.), The Pentateuch. International Perspectives on Current Research (FAT 78), Tu¨bingen: Siebeck Mohr, 2011, 289–301. 95 In einem Grundbestand, der selbst ein a¨lteres kasuistisches Rechtsbuch integriert haben du¨rfte. Dazu rechne ich: (A) Ex 20,24–26 / (B) 21,1–11 / (C) 21,12–17 / (D) 21,18–22,14 / (C’) 22,15–19 / (B’) 23,10–13 / (A’) 23,14–19. In dem konzentrischen Aufbau repra¨sen- tieren A/A’ kultische Regelungen, B/B’ sind u¨ber die 6+1-Struktur miteinander verbunden, C/C’ benennen mit Todesfolge verknu¨pfte Tabubestimmungen, D umfasst eine in sich weiter zu gliedernde Sammlung kasuistischer Rechtssa¨tze. Die in *22,20–23,9 zu- sammengestellten sozial-ethischen Verbote und Gebote, die durch (Exodus-) Para¨nesen zum Schutz der gerim gerahmt sind, werden mit F. Cru¨semann, Das Bundesbuch – his- 62 Erhard Blum wegende Theophanie am Gottesberg Sinai und abgeschlossen mit der Mit- teilung des Gottesrechts durch Mose an das Volk. Mehrere konzeptionelle Ingredienzien fu¨r eine solche „A¨ tiologie“ des ‚Pra¨-Bundesbuchs‘ standen im 8. Jahrhundert v. Chr. im Nordreich zur Verfu¨gung: Der Berg JHWHs (Sinai) im Su¨den, der Exodus Israels aus A¨ gypten, die Fu¨hrung durch Mose sowie dessen Beziehungen zu Midian/Sinai. Diese Gottesberg-‚Bun- desbuch‘-U¨ berlieferung wurde als ein ‚Baustein‘ in die juda¨ische Mose-Ex- odus-Erza¨hlung des 7. Jahrhunderts integriert und weiter ausgebaut.96 In diesem Rahmen diente sie sodann als ‚Vorlage‘ wohl schon fu¨r die Mose- rede des vor-deuteronomistischen Deuteronomiums und – vermittelt – fu¨r das Deuteronomium im Rahmen des DtrG. Zum „historischen Mose“ fu¨hrt diese U¨ berlieferung der Rechtstradition vom Sinai her allerdings nicht zuru¨ck. Vielmehr stehen wir hier umgekehrt am Beginn des bis in die Gegenwart hinein wohl wirkma¨chtigsten Traditionselements der Mo- seu¨berlieferung. Als a¨lteste mit der Mosegestalt verbundene Traditionen bleiben demnach der A¨ gypten-Exodus, die Beziehung zu Midianitern und die Anfa¨nge der JHWH-Verehrung im Bereich des spa¨teren Israel.97 Ausgehend von

torischer Ort und institutioneller Hintergrund, in: J.A. Emerton (Hg.), Congress Volu- me Jerusalem 1986 (VT.S 40), Leiden u. a.: E.J. Brill, 1988, 27–41, hier 33–35, am ehesten nach der Flucht und U¨ bersiedlung von Israeliten nach Juda/Jerusalem beim Zusam- menbruch des Nordreiches zusammengestellt worden sein. Sie du¨rften zur Fortschrei- bung der kleinen „Pra¨-Bundesbuch“-Komposition innerhalb der juda¨ischen Mose-Ex- odus-Erza¨hlung geho¨ren. 96 Insbesondere mit einer (‚heptalogischen‘) Vorstufe des Dekalogs, dem Steintafelnmotiv und der Antia¨tiologie der Stierbilder in Ex 32* sowie mit der nicht mehr im Wortlaut rekonstruierbaren Vorlage fu¨r Dtn 10 bzw. Vorstufe von Ex 34*. Fu¨r Teile der hier vor- ausgesetzten Analyse vgl. Blum, Decalogue (s. Anm. 94). 97 Nicht ganz unerwa¨hnt bleiben du¨rfen an dieser Stelle die Traditionen, die einen Zu- sammenhang zwischen Mose und den Leviten herstellen; vgl. J. Wellhausen, Prolego- mena zur Geschichte Israels, Berlin/Leipzig: De Gruyter, 61927, 134–138 (Eng.: Prolego- mena to the History of Israel, Edinburgh: A. & C. Black 1885, 142–145); Schmidt, Ex- odus (s. Anm. 1), 65–67 (Exkurs 2: Mose als Levit) mit Lit. Sie verdienen schon deshalb Beachtung, weil die einschla¨gigen U¨ berlieferungen (Ex 2,1; 32,26–29; [Dtn 33,8–11]; Ri 18,30 [LXX; Masora; Raschi z.St.]; Ex 6,19 [levitische Sippe „Muschi“]) literarisch weder aufeinander abgestimmt sind, noch sich durchgehend aus Interessen spa¨terer Tradenten herleiten lassen. Zugleich wird man die durchweg erkennbaren Spezifika des sozialen Status der Leviten einbeziehen mu¨ssen: Sesshafte Personen/Familien, die in die lokalen Sippenverba¨nde ihrer Wohnorte nicht verwandtschaftlich integriert sind, zugleich sich aber mit den anderen „Leviten“ einem gemeinsamen Verwandtschaftsverband („Stamm“) zugeho¨rig sehen. Entsprechend ihrer verwandtschaftlichen ‚Fremdheit‘ (analog zu den gerim) leben sie in der Regel nicht auf/von einem familia¨ren Erbland; sie gelten vielmehr als besonders geeignet fu¨r den Dienst an lokalen oder familia¨ren JHWH- Kultsta¨tten. Bezieht man diese strukturellen Merkmale der Leviten und die angesprochenen Zusammenha¨nge mit der Mosetradition aufeinander, dann bietet es sich an, in einer „historischen Spekulation“ die Anfa¨nge der Leviten mit der hypothetischen Mose- Der historische Mose und die Fru¨hgeschichte Israels 63 diesen Grundkoordinaten fa¨llt es nicht schwer, mehr oder weniger elabo- rierte Mose-Biographien zu imaginieren.98 Dergleichen mag legitim sein, in den Bereich der historischen Rekonstruktion geho¨rt es nicht mehr.

Erhard Blum Professor fu¨r Altes Testament Universita¨t T u¨ bingen Liebermeisterstr. 12 72076 Tu¨bingen [email protected]

Exodus-Gruppe zu verbinden, deren Angeho¨rige, so mag man mutmaßen, sich weder in den (pra¨-)israelitischen Verwandtschaftsverba¨nden integrieren, noch sich territorial in einem eigenen zusammenha¨ngenden Gebiet ansiedeln konnten. Im Gegenu¨ber zu den bereits bestehenden Sippen und Sta¨mmen definierten sie sich naheliegenderweise selbst als eigene, segmenta¨r gegliederte Verwandtschaftsgruppe. Als bekannt eifernde „An- -ihres Gottes JHWH galten die mit keinem der ‚normalen‘ Sta¨mme ver ( ול םי ) “ha¨nger bundenen schließlich als ‚geborene‘ Priester an JHWH-Kultsta¨tten. 98 In diese Richtung geht beispielsweise die biographische Skizze von S. Hermann, Art. Mose, NBL 2 (1995), 847–848. Thomas Ro¨mer

Tracking Some “Censored” Moses Traditions Inside and Outside the Hebrew Bible*

This article deals with extrabiblical Moses traditions that have their provenance in Hellenistic times: Moses the leprous, the warlord, and the husband of an Ethiopian woman. The Hebrew Bible contains some allusions to these traditions (Exod 1:10; 4:6–7; Num 12:1; 21:4–9) that were probably inserted after the first publication of the Torah.

I. Gunkel versus Wellhausen, Tradition Criticism versus Redaction Criticism: the Difficult Quest for Oral (and Written) Traditions

The documentary hypothesis developed by J. Wellhausen and others was mainly devoted to the distinction of three major literary layers, which later compilers or redactors combined in order to create the Pentateuch or Hexateuch: J/E (Wellhausen expressed caution concerning the possibility of distinguishing between J and E), D, and P. For Wellhausen these three documents represented three steps in the evolution of the Israelite and Ju- dean religion: J/E, the non-clerical and diversified cult of Yahweh during the monarchy; D, the centralization of the Judahite religion; and P, the rit- ualization and legalistic conception of the cult. I intend here not to comment on this quite negative view of Judaism, but to underline the fact that Wellhausen was not interested in investigating the different elements that made up J/E, D, and P. Although recognizing that J might have used some oral traditions,1 Wellhausen did not pay much attention to the origins and social settings of those traditions. His younger colleague H. Gunkel took the opposite position.2 At the end of the nineteenth century, the publication of Mesopotamian tablets containing stories of creation and flood sim-

* I express my gratitude to R.J. Thompson of Harvard University, who kindly revised the manuscript. 1 See for instance J. Wellhausen, Die Composition des Hexateuchs und der historischen Bu¨cher des Alten Testaments (14th ed.; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1963), 7–8. 2 H. Gunkel, Genesis (trans. J. Nogalski; Macon: Mercer University Press, 1997).

HeBAI 1 (2012), 64–76 ISSN 2192-2276 © 2012 Mohr Siebeck “Censored” Moses Traditions Inside and Outside the Hebrew Bible 65 ilar to the biblical accounts prompted questions about the material that biblical authors or collectors had at their disposal. Gunkel initiated a growing interest and fascination for oral traditions, and some decades later most scholars accepted that almost all biblical narratives were based on old and oral traditions. This conception enabled scholars to claim a second- millennium origin for some of the Biblical traditions, especially those of the Pentateuch.3 The form-critical and tradition-historical methods were at the zenith of Biblical studies, and most scholars were very confident in the retrieval of the older Vorlagen. At least in European scholarship, the collapse of the classical documentary hypothesis, which brought a number of scholars to move the date of the Yahwist from the early monarchy into the Babylonian exile or even to bid him “farewell,”4 has also produced new skepticism about the possibility of reconstructing oral traditions or other Vorlagen used by the authors of the Pentateuch. The work of H. Wahl on the Jacob narrative typifies this skepticism.5 He claims that one cannot clarify the contours of the oral traditions from which the Jacob narrative originated. According to Wahl, oral tradition fluctuates and therefore renders illusory the effort to track the traditions that inspired the authors and redactors of the Jacob story. On the basis of a wide-ranging review of oral tradition, he argues that oral tradition does not function as an efficient means to perpetuate a narrative substance, since memory does not last more than about fifty years. This negative assessment of the possibility to reconstruct older traditions also underlies the current emphasis on redactors in the discussion concerning the formation of the Torah. The shift of interest to the latest redactors of the Torah6 triggers models in which the text appears as a “rolling corpus,” as W. McKane puts it.7 Thus a short written text undergoes constant increase and supplement by redactors. For C. Levin for instance, the only events originally told between the call of Moses and the crossing of the Sea consist of the following: “So Moses took his wife and his sons, put them on

3 See for instance the idea of a patriarchal age that was popular in commentaries on the book of Genesis until the 1960s and that still appears in the chronological tables of many modern Bible translations. 4 T.B. Dozeman and K. Schmid, ed., A Farewell to the Yahwist? The Composition of the Pentateuch in Recent European Interpretation (SBL Symposium Series 34; Atlanta: SBL, 2006). 5 H.M. Wahl, Die Jakobserza¨hlungen. Studien zu ihrer mu¨ndlichen U¨ berlieferung, Verschrif- tung und Historizita¨t (BZAW 258; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1997). 6 T. Ro¨mer and K. Schmid, ed., Les dernie`res re´dactions du Pentateuque, de l’Hexateuque et de l’Enne´ateuque (BEThL 203; Leuven: Peeters, 2007). 7 W. McKane, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Jeremiah, Vol. 1 (ICC; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1986), l–liii. 66 Thomas Ro¨mer a donkey, and went back to the land of Egypt … (4:20) The Israelites jour- neyed from Rameses to Succoth … (12:37) They set out from Succoth, and camped at Etham, on the edge of the wilderness … (13:20) When the Isra- elites looked back there were the Egyptians advancing on them (14:10).”8 In a way, the emphasis on redactional criticism in recent theories about the formation of the Torah9 obfuscates the investigation about the under- lying traditions. Recent theories about the book of Numbers, which R. Achenbach10 elaborated and with which I am sympathetic, argue that most (if not all) of the book is to be understood as late Fortschreibungen and redactional activity. Of course, one admits the existence of some traditional material, but this material remains constantly blurred and its provenance unclear. No doubt the reconstruction of an Ur-Text or an Ur-Tradition often appears hazardous. One should also recall that biblical literature, with few exceptions, stems not from the work of authors but is instead tradition literature. Therefore, one cannot oppose orality and written traditions, as D. Carr has shown.11 Literariness, at least for narratives, is shaped by orality and traditions. Some cases allow for such a reconstruction. The most obvious case involves the reconstruction of the (oral) source of Jesus’ sayings (the Q source) in the New Testament through a comparison of the Synop- tic Gospels. The result of this investigation, as far as I can see, is accepted by a majority of NT scholars. In the Hebrew Bible, the books of Kings and Chronicles also allow for synoptic investigation. Traditionally, scholars have considered Chronicles a reinterpretation of the Deuteronomistic account in Samuel and Kings. G. Auld has challenged this view by reconstructing a shared text from which the contemporaneous redactors of Kings and of Chronicles drew.12 Even if his reconstruction is not entirely

8 C. Levin, Der Jahwist (FRLANT 157; Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1993), 76– 77. 9 For a very critical evaluation of this trend, see J. Van Seters, The Edited Bible. The Curi- ous History of the “Editor” in Biblical Criticism (Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2006). In this book Van Seters integrates former articles (e. g. “The Redactor in Biblical Studies: A Nineteenth Century Anachronism,” JNSL 29 [2003] 1–19) to which J.L. Ska, “A Plea on Behalf of the Biblical Redactors,” Studia Theologica 59 (2005): 4–18 replied. 10 R. Achenbach, Die Vollendung der Tora. Studien zur Redaktionsgeschichte des Numeri- buches im Kontext von Hexateuch und Pentateuch (Beihefte zur Zeitschrift fu¨r altorientalische und biblische Rechtsgeschichte 3; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2003). 11 D. Carr, Writing on the Tablet of the Heart: Origins of Scripture and Literature (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005). 12 A.G. Auld, Kings Without Privilege: David and Moses in the Story of the Bible’s Kings (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1994). See now also R.F. Person Jr., The Deuteronomistic His- tory and the Books of Chronicles: Scribal Works in an Oral World (Ancient Israel and Its Literature 6; Atlanta: SBL, 2010). “Censored” Moses Traditions Inside and Outside the Hebrew Bible 67 convincing, it reflects a growing awareness that the book of Chronicles does not depend on the current text of Samuel–Kings but on a different textual base that one can, at least in some cases, rediscover approximately.13

II. Extrabiblical Moses Traditions

Unfortunately, the Hebrew Bible does not contain much other material useful for synoptic comparison outside of some doublets in Exodus–Num- bers on the one hand and in the book of Deuteronomy on the other (especially Num 13–14 and Deut 1:19–45; or Exodus 32 and Deut 9:7–10:5). These texts have been frequently analyzed with different results14 and I do not intend to reopen this file. I would like instead to explore another direction: investigating some extra-biblical Moses traditions that may allow for a better understanding of some rather obscure texts of the Torah. If one takes seriously the present state of Pentateuchal research, a considerable number of texts appear to belong to the Persian period. This scholarly development makes some extrabiblical accounts about Moses almost contemporaneous with the canonization of the Torah. If this development is correct, it implies that, theoretically, these extrabiblical accounts may contain traditions as old as those that became part of the official story of Moses in the Hebrew Bible.15 No wonder, then, that authors like Hecateus of Abdera, Manetho, Ar- tapanus, and Flavius Josephus are enjoying somewhat of a comeback in biblical scholarship. Some of the traditions conserved in the works of these authors can highlight the variety of traditions about Moses and the Exodus at the time of the gathering of the official Pentateuch traditions. We should remember, however, that we have access to most of these authors only through fragments gathered by much later authors. For instance, Mane- tho’s original History of Egypt from the third century B.C.E. was probably altered several times by pro- and anti-Jewish editors before it came to be

13 D. Carr, “Empirische Perspektiven auf das Deuteronomistische Geschichtswerk” in Die deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerke. Redaktions- und religionsgeschichtliche Perspektiven zur ”Deuteronomismus”-Diskussion in Tora und Vorderen Propheten (ed. M. Witte et al.; BZAW 365; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2006), 1–17. 14 The most recent work on this is V. Se´ne´chal, Re´tribution et intercession dans le Deute´ro- nome (BZAW 408; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2010). 15 P.R. Davies, “Judeans in Egypt: Hebrew and Greek Stories”, in L.L. Grabbe, ed., Did Moses Speak Attic? Jewish Historiography and Scripture in the Hellenistic Period (JSOT- Sup. 317; European Seminar in Historical Methodology; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001), 108–128. 68 Thomas Ro¨mer known by Josephus in the first century B.C.E. and by Eusebius in the fourth 16 century C.E. Artapanus is available to us through Eusebius’ quoting of Al- exander Polyhistor.17 The case of Hecateus, who must have lived at the end of the fourth century B.C.E., is also complicated because fragments of his work are only preserved in Diodorus Siculus’ Library – which, in turn, is quoted by the Byzantine Patriarch Photius.18 We cannot be sure of the originality of these quotes. Nevertheless, we can retrace the content and in many places even the wording of these sources from Hellenistic times, which may in some cases reflect oral traditions from the Persian period. In what follows, I will take some intriguing passages from the biblical Moses tradition and try to show how extrabiblical traditions may shed new light on these texts.

1. Moses’ Leprosy and Israel’s War against Egypt The biblical story of Moses’ call in Exod 3:1–4:17 has undergone several redactions. Most scholars agree that 4:1–17 belongs to a late post-priestly redactor, as argued by E. Blum and others:19 Moses’ new objections come

16 G.P. Verbrugge and J.M. Wickersham, Berossos and Manetho Introduced and Translat- ed: Native Traditions in Ancient Mesopotamia and Egypt (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2000), 108–128. It is also interesting to note that Josephus on one hand quotes Manetho positively in order to prove the historicity of the exodus and on the other hand attacks him on his stories about the leprous and their leader. 17 C.R. Holladay, Fragments from Hellenistic Jewish Authors, Vol. 1: Historians (Texts and Translations 20. Pseudepigrapha Series 10; Chico: Scholars Press, 1983), 189. 18 M. Stern, Greek and Latin Authors on Jews and Judaism, Vol. 1: From Herodotus to Plut- arch (Jerusalem: The Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 1974), 20–35. Re- cently, several works have argued that the frequently quoted passage on the Jews did not derive from Hecateus, but from a later source. According to D.S. Schwartz, “Diodorus Siculus 40.3 – Hecataeus or Pseudo-Hecataeus,” in Jews and Gentiles in the Holy Land in the Days of the Second Temple, the Mishna and the Talmud (ed. M. Mor et al.; Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi Press, 2003), 181–197, Diodorus 40.3 does not preserve a fragment from Hecataeus. See also R.E. Gmirkin, Berossus and Genesis, Manetho and Exodus: Hellenis- tic Histories and the Date of the Pentateuch (LHBOTS 433; New York: T&T Clark, 2006), 33–71; also, C. Zamagni, “La tradition sur Moı¨se d’ ‘Hećateé d’Abde`re’ d’apre`s Diodore et Photius” in Interpre´tations de Moı¨se : E´gypte, Judeé, Gre`ce et Rome (ed. P. Borgeaud, T. Ro¨mer, and Y. Volokhine; Jerusalem Studies in Religion and Culture 10; Leiden: Brill, 2010), 133–169, 162–169. 19 E. Blum, “The Literary Connection Between the Books of Genesis and Exodus and the End of the Book of Joshua” in A Farewell to the Yahwist? (ed. T.B. Dozeman and K. Schmid; SBL Symposium Series 34; Atlanta: SBL, 2006), (see n. 4) 89–106, 94–95; J.C. Gertz, Tradition und Redaktion in der Exoduserza¨hlung. Untersuchungen zur Endredak- tion des Pentateuch (FRLANT 186; Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1999), 305– 327; T. Ro¨mer, “Exodus 3–4 und die aktuelle Pentateuchdiskussion” in The Interpreta- tion of Exodus: Studies in Honour of Cornelis Houtman (ed. R. Roukema; CBET 44; Leuven: Peeters, 2006), 65–79. Traditionally this passage has been ascribed to the E “Censored” Moses Traditions Inside and Outside the Hebrew Bible 69 too late since Yahweh has already replied to Moses’ first refusal by promis- ing assistance and revealing his name (3:11–14). The new signs that God concedes to Moses apparently presuppose Priestly texts from the plague story. Therefore, J.C. Gertz ascribes 4:1–17 to the “Pentateuch redaction.”20 If one takes a closer look at this passage, however, it may not stem from one author or redactor. It has often been observed that the first sign in 4:1–5 (the transformation of Moses’ staff into a snake) preludes Moses and Aaron’s first miracle in Egypt in 7:8–13 (the transformation of Aaron’s staff into a snake during the first encounter between Yahweh’s messengers and the king of Egypt). This first encounter in Exodus 7 is followed in 7:14–25 by the changing of the Nile water into blood. Exodus 4:8–9 also comprises an allusion to the transformation of the Nile’s water, reinter- preting the story of Exod 7:14–25.21 The sequence that contains the transformation of a rod into a snake and water into blood appears inter- rupted in Exod 4:6–7 by another sign: Moses’ hand becomes leprous. This episode, clearly a later insertion, interrupts the sequence of Exodus 7and creates a hiatus in the divine speech about the people’s disbelief – a in v. 5 עמל ן י מא י נ ו .speech in which 4:8 appears clearly related to v. 5 (cf .(in v. 8 היהו םא ־ ל א י מא י נ ו לך and The temporary leprous infection of Moses’ hand has puzzled commentators, since it constitutes a unique occurrence in the Bible, whereas all the other signs in Exodus 4 foreshadow episodes from the Exodus story. Ac- cording to W. Propp, this episode was transmitted in order to show “that Yahweh wishes to prove, on Moses’ person, his ability to send disease and healing.”22 Other commentators point to the parallel in Num 12:10 (Mir- iam’s leprous disease),23 but the reason why Moses should prefigure Mir- iam’s punishment in his body remains unclear. Taking a look at Manetho’s account about the Hebrews in Egypt, one can find a better explanation for these verses. Josephus quotes some fragments of his History of Egypt in his Contra Apionem. According to Jose- phus, Manetho knew a story of an Egyptian king, Amenophis, who wanted to purify Egypt from all lepers and sick people. He put them to work in stone-quarries east of the Nile and later transferred them to the city of Av-

document. But the existence of E is more than uncertain, and the passage clearly presupposes the late and post-priestly texts to which it alludes. 20 Gertz, Tradition (see n. 19), 305–327. 21 This reinterpretation tries to answer the problem that arose through the conflation of different traditions in Exodus 7. According to one, only the river water is transformed into blood, but in the other the striking with the staff provokes blood all over Egypt. 22 W.H.C. Propp, Exodus 1–18 (AB 2; New York: Doubleday, 1999), 209. .appears also in Num 12:10 and furthermore in 2 Kgs 5:27 תערצמ לשכג The expression 23 70 Thomas Ro¨mer aris, the former capital of the Hyksos (the “Shepherds”). A leprous priest named Osarseph headed the colony there and gave it new laws (239: “[T] hey should not worship the gods or show reverence for any of the animals regarded as sacred by the Egyptians…. They should sacrifice and use all of them, and they should have nothing to do with any person except those who shared the oath.”).24 Then he formed an alliance with the Hyksos from Jerusalem, and together they fought against the Egyptian king who had to flee to Ethiopia and stay for thirteen years. Meanwhile, the lepers and the Shepherds burned cities and sanctuaries and destroyed statues of the gods. They were finally defeated by Amenophis and his army, who “killed many and pursued the rest as far as the borders of Syria.” At the end of the story: “250: It is said that the man who gave them their consti- tution and laws was a priest of the people of Heliopolis, named Osarseph25 from Osiris the god of Heliopolis. When he changed his allegiance, he changed his name and was called Moses.” Whether Manetho himself reports this identification or whether it was added later has prompted some debate.26 The identification of Osarseph and Moses, however, finds support by the biblical account in Exod 4:6–7. This passage, which represents a later insertion into a very late text, could function as a “counter history” reacting against an apparently important tradition that describes Moses as a man affected with leprosy. Apparently, Hecateus, who is often considered a main source for Manetho, knows a similar tradition inasmuch as he relates that a disease struck Egypt and prompted the Egyptians to expel the foreigners from the country. Among them was Moses, the founder of Je- rusalem. Although Hecateus does not mention Moses’ leprosy, he does combine the theme of the expulsion of Moses and his followers with the theme of disease. A text such as Deut 7:15 may reflect such a tradition: “[A]ll the dread diseases from Egypt that you experienced he (Yahweh) will not inflict on you” (see also Deut 28:60). The biblical redactor opposes to the tradition of the lepers known by Manetho the affirmation that Moses’ leprosy was only momentary; it happened in the context of a transfer of divine powers to him.

24 Translation according to Verbrugghe and Wickersham, Berossos and Manetho (see n. 16). 25 According to D.B. Redford (Egypt, Canaan, and Israel in Ancient Times [Princeton: University Press, 1992], 415–416), Osarseph is a polemical name for Akhenaton; others think of a combination of Joseph and Osiris. 26 See J.G. Gager, Moses in Greco-Roman Paganism (SBL Monograph Series 16: Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1972), 113–118; E.S. Gruen, Heritage and Hellenism: The Reinvention of Jewish Tradition (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), 58–62. “Censored” Moses Traditions Inside and Outside the Hebrew Bible 71 Thus, the source for the strange sign related to Moses’ leprous hand may be found in a tradition from the end of the Persian period. At a late stage, Exod 4:6–7 may have been inserted together with the Wiederauf- nahme in 4:9aa (altering the announcement of 4:9aßb to a third sign), a move that may have occurred after the first promulgation of the Torah in order to counter anti-Jewish versions of the Exodus narrative. Another difficult passage from the beginning of the book of Exodus can also be better understood in the light of the tradition related by Manetho, as J. Ru¨ckl convincingly suggests.27 According to Exod 1:9–10, the new Pharaoh feared the Hebrews: He said to his people, “Look, the Israelite people are more numerous and more powerful than we. Come, let us deal shrewdly with them, or they will increase and, in the event of war, join our enemies and fight against us and get them up out of the land.” In the book of Exodus, the idea that Egypt is at war and that the Hebrews could join the enemies of Egypt represents a blind motif, since it is not taken up later. This passage has intrigued past and recent commentators and even pro- should mean here “to seize upon,” since the text הלע מן voked the idea that seems odd otherwise.28 But if one reads Exod 1:10 in the light of the tradition transmitted by Manetho, such an emendation becomes unnecessary. Manetho’s account of the alliance of the “lepers” in Egypt with the “Shep- herds” does not make sense as an amplification of the biblical passage, because it is quite difficult to imagine Manetho as an attentive reader of the Torah. One may hypothesize, on the contrary, that a redactor inserted Exod 1:10 in reaction to the tradition related by Manetho. On the diachronic level, one can understand Exod 1:10b* as an insertion into the passage comprising Exod 1:8–12, which, according to K. Schmid and J. Gertz, is part of a post-priestly redaction in view of its presupposition of Exod 1:7.29 This verse, which almost all scholars attribute to the Priestly writer or redactor, relates that the Israelites have become a numerous people. The following verses must therefore belong to the same literary level or to a later one. In 1:8–12, v. 10b* interrupts the transition between Pharaoh’s statement in v. 10a and the “wise” measures that he

27 J. Ru¨ckl, “Israel’s Alliance with the Enemies of Egypt in Exodus 1,10,” in La construction de la figure de Moı¨se – The Construction of the Figure of Moses (ed. T. Ro¨mer; Trans- euphrate`ne Supp. 13; Paris: Gabalda, 2007), 157–168. 28 For details see Ru¨ckl, 164–165. 29 K. Schmid, Erzva¨ter und Exodus. Untersuchungen zur doppelten Begru¨ndung der Ur- spru¨nge Israels innerhalb der Geschichtsbu¨cher des Alten Testaments (WMANT 81; Neu- kirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1999), 233; J.C. Gertz, “The Transition Between the Books of Genesis and Exodus” in A Farewell to the Yahwist? (ed. T.B. Dozeman and K. Schmid; SBL Symposium Series 34; Atlanta: SBL, 2006), (see n. 4) 73–87, 82–83. In Tradition (see n. 19), 379, Gertz attributes 1:8–10 to the “final redaction”. 72 Thomas Ro¨mer wants to take. The late insertion in 1:10b may stem from the same hand as 4:6–7. The biblical redactor, operating again in a polemical way, took a tradition that previously ended with the expulsion of the Hebrews and turned it into a prophetic oracle where the king foresees Israel’s exodus. The tradition found in Manetho, which places the exodus in the context of Egypt’s war against the inhabitants of Canaan and Israel’s alliance with them, probably stems from an older tradition (an allusion to it can be found in Jubilees 46:6–13, where the text may represent a midrash of Exod 1:10 or may result from some knowledge of such a tradition). J. Ru¨ckl thinks that Manetho’s account may reflect the situation of the Persian oc- 30 cupation of Egypt in the fifth century B.C.E., but this question needs to remain open. In any case, Exod 1:10 provides another example of the way extra-biblical tradition can improve our understanding of some biblical accounts.

2. Moses’ Wars, the Snakes, and his Ethiopian Wife In the Hebrew Bible, Moses has a more or less demilitarized stance: he does not lead the people into the land and, according to the Deuterono- mistic tradition, the military conquest becomes the work of Joshua, whom the text clearly presents as a warlord in the book of Joshua (as well as already in Exod 17). Nevertheless, some military traditions about Moses appear at the end of the book of Numbers and in the first chapters of Deu- teronomy. He conquers the Transjordan territory, and Num 20:14 even mentions a “book of the wars of Yahweh,”31 which would have contained Moses’ military exploits. One may therefore ask if the stories at the end of Numbers reflect a tradition of Moses as a conqueror. This tradition appears also in Hecateus and more extensively in Artapanus, who presents Moses as an excellent commander leading an Ethiopian campaign. Artap- anus probably did not invent this tradition, since Josephus in his Jewish Antiquities (2.238–256) offers a similar account. As several scholars have claimed, Josephus could theoretically depend on Artapanus, but a synoptic comparison of both accounts leads to the conclusion that they take over (in different ways) a common oral tradition that probably originated in the

30 Ru¨ckl, “Israel’s Alliance” (see n. 27), 166–167. 31 A text-critical problem arises here, since LXX read “the war of Yahweh” not as the title of the book but as a quotation from it. “Censored” Moses Traditions Inside and Outside the Hebrew Bible 73 Jewish (Egyptian) Diaspora.32 This tradition comprised the following themes: a) Moses wages war against the Ethiopians; b) He uses ibises to fight snakes in the wilderness; c) He sojourns in Ethiopia and marries an Ethiopian princess. The latter theme does not appear in Artapanus. The notion that Jose- phus invented the story is improbable. It is more likely that Polyhistor censored Artapanus, whom Polyhistor only transmitted in fragments. a) We can easily trace the origin of the theme of Moses’ Ethiopian wars. The Egyptian Jews would have known about the antagonism between Egypt and Cush. Since the second millennium B.C.E., Egypt and Cush warred often. One may recall that around 728 B.C.E., the Cushite king Piankhy invaded Egypt, took over Memphis and Heliopolis, and pro- claimed himself king. This Ethiopian occupation of Egypt, which ended only around 672 B.C.E. with the installation of Neco I after the Assyrian in- vasion, offers a fitting background to Artapanus’ account (Praep. 9.27, 3).33 During the Persian era, the topic of Ethiopian campaigns by the Phar- aohs or other kings (Semiramis, Cambyses) became a literary motif34 with which Jews in Egypt may have been familiar. The legend of Sesostris (Sesoosis) offers the most parallels to the tradition used by Artapanus and Josephus.35 This figure apparently combines recollections about Sesostris who defeated the Ethiopians with recollections about Ramses II.36 Her- odotus (Hist. 2.102–110), Diodorus Siculus (1.53–57), and Strabo refer to this legend:37 Sesostris, a brilliant legislator and an excellent head of state, organizes the land of Egypt in different departments (Herodotus 2.109; Diodorus 1.14,3). Artapanus says the same thing about Moses

32 For more details, see T. Ro¨mer, “Les guerres de Moı¨se,” in La construction de la figure de Moı¨se – The Construction of the Figure of Moses (ed. T. Ro¨mer; Transeuphrate`ne Supp. 13; Paris: Gabalda, 2007), (see n.27), 169–193. 33 Cf. D.B. Redford, From Slave to Pharaoh: The Black Experience of Ancient Egypt (Balti- more: John Hopkins University Press, 2004). 34 J.M.G. Barclay, Jews in the Mediterranean Diaspora: From Alexander to Trajan (323 BCE – 117 CE) (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996), 129 and n. 9. 35 D.L. Tiede, The Charismatic Figure as Miracle Worker (SBLDS 1; Missoula: SBL, 1972), 153–167; T. Rajak, “Moses in Ethiopia: Legend and Literature,” JJS (1978): 111–122, 115. 36 C. Obsomer, Les campagnes de Se´sostris dans He´rodote: essai d’interpre´tation du texte grec a` la lumie`re des re´alite´se´gyptiennes (Connaissance de l’Egypte ancienne 1; Bruxelles: Connaissance de l’Egypte ancienne, 1989). 37 For a summary of this legend, cf. M. Braun, History and Romance in Graeco-Oriental Literature (1938) (reprint; New York: Garland, 1987), 13–18. Braun situates its origin in the Egyptian resistance against the Persian invaders. 74 Thomas Ro¨mer (Praep. 9.27,3).38 He also claims that Moses introduced circumcision in Ethiopia, whereas Herodotus (Hist. 2.104) and Diodorus (i.55,5) mention circumcision in relation with Sesostris. But above all, Sesostris epitomizes a fine strategist and wages war against Ethiopia (Strabo, Geographica, 16.4,4.). According to Artapanus and Josephus alike, Moses likewise goes to war against Ethiopia.39 Both authors report that Moses has to confront the hostility of the Egyptian court (Praep. 9.27,11–18; Ant. 2.254–256); the same holds true for Sesostris when he returns from his campaign accompanied by his wife (Herodotus, Hist. 2.107; Diodorus 1.57,7–8).40 There- fore, one may plausibly assume that this legend inspired the tradition used by Artapanus and Josephus.41 If so, then this tradition constructed Moses as a Jewish Sesostris.42 b) The relation between Moses and the ibises is a more difficult topic to investigate. According to D. Silver, this association could reflect an early syncretistic cult of the Egyptian Diaspora centering on Moses as healer and intercessor.43 While this idea is speculative, it may find support from Artapanus, who identifies Moses with Hermes-Thoth in turn associated with the ibis. Herodotus (II, 75) mentions a cult dedicated to ibises because they repel the winged snakes of the desert: “the story goes that at the beginning of spring winged serpents from Arabia fly towards Egypt, and the birds called ibises meet them at the entrance to this country and do not suffer the serpents to go by but kill them. On account of this deed it is (say the Arabians) that the ibis has come to be greatly honored by the Egyp- tians.”44 In the light of this tradition, one may ask if a (probably late) story about the snake plague in Num 21.4–945 could indicate an orthodox counter-history trying to show that only a decision coming from the God of Is- rael could stop the serpents. In any case, Numbers 21 shares the tradition about winged serpents in the wilderness with Herodotus and Artapanus.

38 Both authors mention 36 names. 39 Tiede, Charismatic Figure (see n. 35), 161. 40 According to Herodotus and Diodorus, his brother wants to kill him through fire. Di- odorus reports that the gods decided to save him. Herodotus tells a cruel plan of his wife: Sesostris’ two sons perish in the fire, since Sesostris uses them as a bridge to cross it. 41 See also Tiede, Charismatic Figure (see n. 35), 164. However, Tiede is convinced that Artapanus invented the Mosaic version of this legend: “…[I]t appears likely that Artap- anus had adapted a version of this legend and applied it to Moses.” 42 Cf. Exod 2:1–10, where he is constructed with the attributes of Sargon. 43 D.J. Silver, ”Moses and the Hungry Birds,” JQR 64 (1973): 123–153. 44 Translation by G.C. Macaulay (http://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/h/herodotus/h4 m/). 45 E. Aurelius, Der Fu¨rbitter Israels. Eine Studie zum Mosebild im Alten Testament. (CB.OT 27; Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell International, 1988), 151–152, claims that this story was inserted only after the Pentateuch redactor. “Censored” Moses Traditions Inside and Outside the Hebrew Bible 75 c) The tradition about a marriage between Moses and an Ethiopian princess, which appears in Josephus’ Antiquities, must have some relation in one way or another to the strange note in Num 12:1: “And Miriam and Aaron spoke against Moses because of the Cushite woman whom he had married; he had indeed married a Cushite woman.” This verse is another crux interpretationis, since the following story switches to Miriam and Aaron’s denial of Moses’ superiority.46 Traditional Jewish and Christian interpretation has already made several attempts to smooth out this passage, especially by identifying Cush with Madian and the Cushite woman with Zipporah.47 It is difficult to imagine the whole tradition about Moses’ Ethiopian woman – which Flavius Josephus had certainly not invented – as solely a midrashic amplification spun out of Num 12:1. The opposite solution appears more plausible. Numbers 12:1 was inserted at a late redactional stage (together with 12:10–15). Presupposing knowledge of the Moses-Ethiopian connection, the passage represents a discrete counter- history against the Deuteronomistic prohibition of mixed marriages as formulated in texts such as Deut. 7.1–6 or Ezra 10. The Ethiopian-Cushite theme may have come from the Jews living in the military colony of Elephantine, where they found themselves in imme- diate contact with “Cush.” The tradition of Moses’ military successes in Ethiopia was especially fitting for Jewish mercenaries, some of whom probably had Ethiopian wives.48 We may conclude that in the Persian period a (probably oral) tradition about Moses’ military feats existed and included his marriage with an Ethiopian princess as well as the benefits that he provided for Egypt.49 It is almost impossible to know whether Manetho reacted against such a tradition or whether the intended function of the tradition was to counter anti-Jewish stories in Egypt. What is clear, however, is the fact that the reconstruction of this tradition enables a better understanding of some passages in the Torah.

46 Scholars often argue that Miriam’s punishment with leprosy in verses 10–15 was the original continuation of her denial of Moses’ wife. While this may well be the case, the Cushite woman receives no further mention. 47 For a good overview on the history of interpretation, see Achenbach, Vollendung (see n. 10), 275–277. See also T. Ro¨mer, “Mose in A¨ thiopien. Zur Herkunft der Num 12,1 zugrunde liegenden Tradition” in Auf dem Weg zur Endgestalt von Genesis bis II Regum. Festschrift fu¨r Hans-Christoph Schmitt zum 65. Geburtstag (ed. M. Beck and U. Schorn; BZAW 370; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2006), 203–15. 48 B.J. Diebner, “‘…for he had married a Cushite woman’ (Num 12,1),” Nubica I/II (1990): 499–504. 49 For a similar conclusion, see Rajak, “Moses in Ethiopia,” 111–122; see also D. Runnalls, “Moses’ Ethiopian Campaign,” JSJ 14 (1993): 135–156. 76 Thomas Ro¨mer III. Conclusion

The focus on redactional criticism sometimes obscures the quest for the provenance and meaning of traditions that the redactors used, inserted, or transformed. Scholars have often caricaturized tradition history as a ro- mantic pursuit of the oldest origins. The new state of Pentateuchal research that emphasizes the importance of the Persian period for the formation of the Torah allows for a modified investigation into the biblical traditions, which scholars can now, at least partially, retrieve from extrabiblical sources of the Hellenistic period. This interest in oral tradition does not mean that one should abandon investigation of the written text. On the contrary, it contributes to a better understanding of the complexity of the Torah, which still contains enough difficult passages to keep future generations of scholars busy.

Thomas Ro¨mer Colle`ge de France 52, rue du Cardinal Lemoine 75231 Paris Cedex 05 France [email protected] James Kugel

The Figure of Moses in Jubilees

Moses is a central figure in numerous Second Temple period writings: in a number of them, he is even presented as a semi-divine “God-like man.” By comparison, the Moses of the book of Jubilees is a rather pale figure, altogether overshadowed by the towering portraits of Noah, Abraham, Jacob, and others. The reason for this calculat- ed de-emphasis of Moses’ importance and role is connected to the contrasting ideol- ogies of two writers, the original author of Jubilees and an interpolator responsible for some 29 insertions into the original author’s text. It is hardly surprising that Moses is exalted in the literature of the Second Temple period. In the Pentateuch itself he is by far the dominant figure, the man of God who stood up to Pharaoh to demand his people’s freedom and who, at Mount Sinai, received the Torah on behalf of all Israel. The gap separating him from ordinary mortals was no doubt evident to all who knew Israel’s sacred scriptures. Consider, for example, God’s own words contrasting Moses to all other prophets: “With him, I speak mouth to mouth, plainly and not in riddles, indeed, he beholds the very likeness of the LORD” (Num 12:8). Or elsewhere:

And there has never since arisen in Israel a prophet like Moses, whom the LORD knew face to face, with all the signs and portents that the Lord commissioned him to perform in the land of Egypt, against Pharaoh and all his courtiers and his whole country, and with all the terrifying power that Moses wielded in the sight of all Israel (Deut 34:10–12). Given Moses’ unique standing as expressed in such passages, one can little wonder at the exaltation, indeed, lionization of Moses in the writings of post-biblical Jewish sages. Here, for example, is the opening of Philo of Alexandria’s two-volume work on the life of Moses: I propose to write the life of Moses, whom some describe as the legislator (nomothete¯s) of the Jews, others as the interpreter (herme¯neus) of the sacred laws. I, however, hope to bring the story of the greatest and most perfect of men to the knowledge of such as de- serve not to remain in ignorance of it (Mos. 1.1). One particularly significant factor in this lionization was God’s reply to Moses when he asserted that he was not a good speaker and therefore could not confront Pharaoh. God observes that Aaron, Moses’ brother, is indeed a good speaker, so “He [Aaron] shall be a mouth for you, and you will be to him as God” (Exod 4:16). This might have seemed like a mere

HeBAI 1 (2012), 77–92 ISSN 2192-2276 © 2012 Mohr Siebeck 78 James Kugel figure of speech, but it is repeated later on: “See, I am making you a God to Pharaoh, and Aaron your brother will be your prophet” (Exod 7:1). This led more than one ancient interpreter to claim that Moses had, in effect, been deified by God: Beloved of God and men was Moses (may his mention bring good), And He honored him as God, and kept him strong in the heavens (Sir 45:1–2). And He made him God over the mighty ones, and as a cause of reeling to Pharaoh (4Q374 frag. II, 2, 6, Discourse on the Exodus/Conquest Tradition). And did not he [Moses] enjoy an even greater partnership with the Father and Creator of all things, having been found worthy of [being called by] the same form of address? For, he was named God and king of the entire nation (Philo, Mos. 1.158). And so that law-giving [i.e. the Torah], being believed to come from God, has caused this man to be ranked higher than his own [human] nature (Josephus, Ant. 3.320).1 In the light of all this, the portrayal of Moses in the book of Jubilees seems rather pale. One might object that this is a natural consequence of the book’s design: after all, Jubilees is primarily concerned with retelling the book of Genesis, where Moses is entirely absent, and only begins to refer to Moses’ lifetime in its last four chapters. Naturally, therefore, Jubilees has much more to say about Noah, Abraham, and the other patriarchs than about Moses. But such an objection is faulty on two accounts. First, it puts the cart before the horse: the question ought to be why Jubilees’ focus is on the book of Genesis, a question whose answer is, as we shall see, most revealing about the book’s overall aim. But secondly, Moses is hardly absent from Jubilees. The closing chapters recount the life of Moses from birth to the beginning of the exodus; surely, if the author had wanted, they could have been full of superlatives from beginning to end. Moreover, the book opens with Moses’ ascent of Mount Sinai, and is punctuated here and there with direct speech from the book’s narrator, the Angel of the Presence, to Moses: “Now you, Moses, command the Israelites…” and so forth. Here too was ample opportunity for the author to expatiate, as other Second Temple writers did, on Moses’ unique qualities as a prophet, indeed, his God-like status. But there is nothing of the kind in Jubilees; indeed, most of the time Moses seems to cut a rather small figure amidst the book’s other, apparently greater, heroes.

1 For a survey of some early sources, see L. Feldman, Josephus’s Interpretation of the Bible (Berkley: University of California, 1998), 374–442. I have also discussed some of these depictions of Moses in Traditions of the Bible (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1998), 544–546, 560–561. The Figure of Moses in Jubilees 79 The Author’s Purpose

The beginning of an explanation for this curiosity lies, as already implied, in an understanding of the author’s historical situation and in his overall purpose in writing. He presumably lived sometime close to the start of the 2 second century B.C.E., a time when, no doubt, many of his countrymen

2 The dating of Jubilees remains a thorny question. It used to be dated to the time of the Maccabees, mostly on the basis of the geographic references in the battle narratives of Jub 34:2–9 and 37:1–38:14, which were held to reflect the sites of Maccabean battles; this argument was later taken up by, among others, J.C. VanderKam, but seriously countered by R.H. Doran in his article “The Non-Dating of Jubilees: Jub. 34–38; 23:14–32 in Narrative Context,” JJS 20 (1989): 1–12. In the meantime J. Goldstein argued for dating the book prior to 167 B.C.E.: “The Date of the Book of Jubilees,” Proceedings of the American Academy for Jewish Research 50 (1983): 63–86. VanderKam has also argued that Jubilees displays a knowledge of the chapters 85–90 of 1 Enoch and alludes in particular to the al- legorical presentation of Israel’s history that includes an apparent reference to the Macca- bean wars (1 Enoch 90:9b-16) and ends with a last judgment – a section claimed to be reflected in Jub. 4:19. (See VanderKam, “Enoch Traditions in Jubilees and Other Second Century Sources,” SBL Seminar Papers 13 [1978]: 1:229–251; and idem, “Jubilees, Book of,” in L. Schiffman and J. C. VanderKam, Encyclopedia of the Dead Sea Scrolls [New York: Oxford, 2000], 434). But as G. Nickelsburg has noted, “the duplications in vv. 9– 18…have led many commentators to posit a process of updating the Vision, such as is attested, for example, in Daniel, by means of interpolation or the construction of an alternative ending to the historical section of the Vision” (1 Enoch 1, Hermeneia [Minneapo- lis: Fortress, 2001], 361). If so, there is no reason to associate Jub. 4:19 with any date assigned to the current form of 1 Enoch 90 – Jubilees could just as easily be referring to an earlier form of the text. Indeed, there is good reason to move the date of composition considerably earlier than the time of the Maccabees. Not only is there no hint in Jubilees that its author was aware of the revolt of the Maccabees, but there is likewise no reference, however indirect, to the events in the reign of Antiochus IV that preceded it, starting around 175 B.C.E. The book intones against such Hellenistic practice as public nudity (3:31), but there is little reason to suppose that such nudity could not have been a shock- ing element of Greek culture even in the third century B.C.E. As for the book’s other dis- paragements of Hellenistic society and its ardent xenophobia, these might likewise be dated to the beginning of the second or even the late third century B.C.E. Indeed, Diodo- rus Sicilus cites Hecataeus of Abdera, ca. 300 B.C.E., as referring to the Jews’ “antisocial and foreigner-hating way of life”; see his Bibliotheca Historica XL 3. In short, there simply appears to be no evidence for favoring a post-175 B.C.E. dating over a pre-175 one. Wor- thy of consideration as well is the relationship of Jubilees to the Aramaic Levi Document (ALD), a text that is often dated to the very start of the second century or still earlier. The ALD appears to be dependent on Jubilees in its reference to a certain visit of Jacob and his two sons to Isaac – a trip nowhere mentioned in the Bible or elsewhere in Second Temple period literature. Jubilees narrates this visit at some length and even gives it a clever Scriptural justification; the ALD summarizes it in a single short sentence (ALD 5:1). One would have to assume that the author of Jubilees read this sentence in the ALD, then thought up his own clever Scriptural justification for its existence, and then expanded the ALD’s passing reference into his own lengthy narration (Jub. 31:3–30). But common sense, as well as the details of Jubilees’ account and the absence of any reference to this journey elsewhere in Second Temple writings, would seem to point to exactly the opposite process: the famous, authoritative book of Jubilees was the first text to think up this 80 James Kugel were despairing of Israel’s understanding of itself and its place in the world. Perhaps, they reasoned, the God YHWH really did at one point adopt Israel as His own people, just as ancient Scripture related (Exod 19:5–6). But that day was long gone. In the meantime, He had allowed the Northern Kingdom of Israel to fall to the Assyrians, never to rise again; the Southern Kingdom, Judah, had similarly fallen to the Babylonians, and much of its citizenry had been exiled to Babylon. True, unlike the North- erners, the Judean exiles had subsequently been allowed to return to their homeland, but they were nonetheless a subject people, ruled over first by Persia, then Ptolemaic Egypt, and now by Seleucid Syria. Was this a fitting arrangement for a people allegedly chosen by the Lord of heaven and earth? Instead, it seemed a clear indication that God’s adoption of Israel as His own people, an act inaugurated with the great covenant at Mount Sinai, must no longer be in force. Israel had violated that covenant – first the Northerners, then the Southerners – and had therefore been rejected; the apparently unending years of foreign domination were a clear indication that Israel had fallen into God’s disfavor. It was principally to combat any such reading of history that the author of Jubilees wrote his book. He began by having Moses hear the “predic- tion” of all the evils that would lead up to the Babylonian exile (Jub. 1:9– 14). This was to be a terrible catastrophe, but it would ultimately be followed by Israel’s repentance and restoration (Jub. 1:15), and the explicit reversal of the Pentateuch’s own curses that were said to be Israel’s lot if it violated the Sinai covenant (Jub. 1:16). In other words, Jubilees’ author readily accepted that Israel had sinned and was punished – but this hardly spelled the end of its historic bond with its God. Israel was, and always had been, God’s own people. For Jubilees’ author, this was the great message carried by the book of Genesis – as well as his reason for choosing to retell its stories as the ideal instrument for communicating his theme. Genesis is, after all, full of accounts of God’s dealings with Israel’s remote ancestors, Noah and his sons, Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, and Jacob and his wives and children. These stories all give evidence of the close connection between God and Israel’s forebears; they not only interact directly with God, but God rewards them – most tangibly in the grant of the land of Canaan to them and their descendants. For the author of Jubilees, this was proof positive that God’s adoption of Israel did not begin at Mount Sinai, as one might

non-biblical visit, and the author of the ALD was content to allude to Jubilees’ account in a single sentence. See my “How Old is the Aramaic Levi Document?” DSD 14 (2007): 291–312. The Figure of Moses in Jubilees 81 assume from a straightforward reading of Exod 19:5–6, but that it had begun long before – going back, his book asserted, to the sixth day of creation, when God first decided that Israel was to be His people (Jub. 2:19– 20). The covenants concluded with Abraham in Genesis 15 and 17, along with the promises made to Jacob in Gen 28:13–14, were thus not, as it might seem, merely intended as a grant of the land of Canaan, nor yet a vague pledge of numerous descendants, but an eternal alliance. They, no less than the Sinai covenant, bound Israel to its God forever. To say this likewise implied a certain diminution of the importance of the Sinai covenant itself. It was not the first and sole basis of the alliance between God and Israel, but only one covenant among several; its viola- tion, therefore, could hardly have occasioned a definitive rupture between the two parties. So yes, Israel had failed to keep the conditions of the Sinai covenant, a sin for which it had been duly punished through the Babylo- nian conquest and exile. But once punished, the child is forgiven. Whatev- er the political ups and downs that had subsequently characterized Israel’s history, there could be no doubt that God’s alliance with Israel was still in effect and would continue eternally. This was the basic message of comfort that the author of Jubilees wished to communicate, and in retelling Genesis, he sought to give it concrete expression. Jubilees maintained that although Israel did not yet exist, God had actually decided to create this special people for Himself way back on the seventh day of the Creation, the very first sabbath in history.3 In effect, then, God’s great alliance with Israel was moved back from the Sinai revelation (Exodus 19) to Genesis 1. In keeping with this shift, Israel’s remote ancestors were portrayed as worshiping God in much the same way as Is- rael was commanded to worship Him at Mount Sinai. True, there was no temple or tabernacle in pre-Sinai times, indeed, no established priesthood. But Genesis did mention that various patriarchs had built altars and of-

3 This point is well made in M. Segal, The Book of Jubilees: Rewritten Bible, Redaction, Ide- ology, and Theology (JSJSup. 117; Leiden: Brill, 2007), 178–179, 238–243. The claim that Israel had been chosen as God’s people on the seventh day of creation was buttressed by four different arguments: Since Israel was the only people on earth commanded to keep the sabbath, God must have decided on Israel’s special status when He created the first sabbath. In line with this, there were only two items in Genesis that were called both “sacred” and “blessed,” Israel and the first sabbath. Moreover, by Jubilees’ count, there were exactly twenty-two different acts of creation in that first week – corresponding to the twenty-two generations from Adam to Jacob, Israel’s progenitor. Finally, God describes Israel in Exod 4:22 as His “firstborn son” – clear proof that Israel was conceived as God’s own people from the very beginning. See Jub 2:19–23; also L. Doering, “The Concept of the Sabbath in the Book of Jubilees,” in Studies in the Book of Jubilees (ed. M. Albani et al.; Tu¨bingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997), 179–206; J. Kugel, “4Q369 ‘Prayer of Enosh’ and Ancient Biblical Interpretation,” DSD 5 (1998): 119–148. 82 James Kugel fered sacrifices to God. With this slim bit of evidence to support him, the author of Jubilees asserted that a chain of priests had in fact existed from earliest times – one priest at a time – and that these priests were in every sense continuous with the later, Levitical priesthood. Thus, Adam, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, and Levi are represented in Jubilees as forming a continuous chain of priests, with each new priest being instructed by his predecessor in proper priestly procedure.4 To further illustrate the continuity between these pre-Sinai priests and their post-Sinai successors, the author of Jubilees detailed the form and content of the sacrifices that they offered, having these conform to prescriptions for sacrifices found later in the Pentateuch, principally in the book of Leviticus. For the same reason, the author depicted these pre-Sinai priests as celebrating (and properly observing the sacrificial laws of) various holy days – the Feast of Booths, the Feast of Weeks, the Day of Atone- ment – even though these holy days were first mentioned only later in the Torah, as part of or following the Sinai covenant.

A Bold Step

It was here that the author of Jubilees, in his effort to stress the crucial importance of the patriarchs in God’s connection to His people, took a particularly bold step. He asserted – not once, but repeatedly throughout the book – that the very reason for the existence of various holy days and other practices was to be found not in the prescriptions of the Sinai covenant, but in the events of the patriarchs’ own lives. Here, for example, is how the biblical Festival of Tabernacles (Sukkot) came into existence: One day, God’s angels visited Abraham and informed him that his future grandson, Jacob, would grow up to become the father of a holy nation, sacred to God. (This angelic visit is altogether the creation of Jubilees’ author – there is no such account in the book of Genesis.) After hearing the news, Abraham and Sarah “were extremely happy”: Thereupon he [Abraham] built an altar for the Lord who had rescued him and who was making him so happy in the country where he resided as an alien. He celebrated a joyful festival in this month – for seven days – near the altar which he had built at the well of the oath. He constructed tents for himself and his servants during this festival. He was [thus] the first to celebrate the Festival of Tabernacles on the earth. During these seven days he was making – throughout all the days, each and every day – an offering to the Lord on the altar: two bulls, two rams, seven sheep, one goat for sins in order to atone

4 See my “Levi’s Elevation to the Priesthood in Second Temple Writings,” HTR 96 (1993): 1–64, esp. 17–21. The Figure of Moses in Jubilees 83 through it for himself and his descendants. And as a peace offering: seven rams, seven kids, seven sheep, seven he-goats as well as their (cereal) offerings and their libations over all their fat – (all of these) he would burn on the altar as a choice offering for a pleasing fragrance. In the morning and evening he would burn fragrant substances: frankincense, galbanum, stacte, nard, myrrh, aromatic spices, and costum. All seven of these he would offer beaten, equally mixed, pure. He celebrated this festival for seven days, being happy with his whole heart and all his being – he and all those who belonged to his household. There was no foreigner with him, nor anyone who was uncircumcised. He blessed his creator who had created him in his generation because he had created him for his pleasure, for he knew and ascertained that from him there would come a righteous plant for the history of eternity and (that) from him there would be holy descendants so that they should be like the one who had made everything. He gave a blessing and was very happy. He named this festival the festival of the Lord – a joy acceptable to the most high God (16:20–27). Observance of the Festival of Tabernacles (or “Booths”) is commanded by the Torah (Exod 34:22; Lev 23:33–36, 39–43; Num 29:12–38, Deut 16:13– 15). Yet it is curious how Abraham’s observance of this festival came about: he decided it on his own initiative. It certainly would have been possible for the author of Jubilees to have God or one of His angels appear to Abraham and instruct him to inaugurate this festival – but that is not at all what happens. Abraham, overjoyed at the news the angels have brought him, spontaneously decides to create a seven-day festival, and it is only as a result of his action that this festival subsequently becomes a provision of divine law in the Torah. The same pattern is repeated again and again in Jubilees. Here, for example, is how the Day of Atonement came about according to Jubilees’ author: It all started when Joseph’s brothers sought to deceive their father Jacob into thinking that Joseph was dead. Jacob’s son’s slaughtered a he-goat, stained Joseph’s clothing by dipping it in its blood, and sent [it] to their father Jacob on the tenth of the seventh month. He mourned all that night because they had brought it to him in the evening. He became feverish through mourning his death and said that a wild animal had eaten Joseph. That day all the people of his household mourned with him. They continued to be distressed and to mourn with him all that day. His sons and daughter set about consoling him, but he was inconsolable for his son…. He continued mourning for Joseph for one year and was not comforted but said: “May I go down to the grave mourning for my son.” For this reason, it has been ordained regarding the Israelites that they should be distressed on the tenth of the seventh month – on the day when [the news] which made [him] lament Joseph reached his father Jacob – in order to make atonement for themselves on it with a kid – on the tenth of the seventh month [the date of the Day of Atonement], once a year – for their sins. For they had saddened their father’s [feelings of] affection for his son Joseph. This day has been ordained so that they may be saddened on it for their sins, all their transgres- sions, and all their errors; so that they may purify themselves on this day once a year (34:12–19). 84 James Kugel Once again, what was to become one of the commandments of the Torah, the observance of the Day of Atonement, came about as a result of something done altogether spontaneously by one of the patriarchs – and in this case, in commemoration of nothing particularly virtuous, a fraud perpe- trated by his sons that caused Jacob to mourn needlessly. So it was as well with the Festival of Weeks (Shabu‘ot). It was inaugurated, according to Ju- bilees’ author, with Noah’s spontaneous decision to offer thanks to God at the end of the great flood (Jub. 6:1–3); only later did this Festival become part of the Torah’s legislation (Exod 34:22; Lev 23:16–21; Num 28:26–31; Deut 16:10–11). In other words, these holy days are essentially based on things that happened to the patriarchs long before the Sinai revelation. It was not God who commanded the patriarchs that they be celebrated, but almost the opposite: God made them official in reaction, as it were, to things that the patriarchs themselves had instituted. This is true not only with regard to festivals and other holy days, but also with certain other laws contained in the Torah. For example, the book of Leviticus contains a provision about consuming the fruit of a tree: When you enter the land and plant any tree for food, you shall regard its fruit as forbidden. Three years it shall be forbidden for you, not to be eaten. In the fourth year all its fruit shall be set aside for jubilation5 before the Lord; and only in the fifth year may you use its fruit – that its yield to you may be increased: I am the Lord your God (Lev 19:23– 24). In the Pentateuch, this law is a command of God. But according to Jubi- lees, its provisions seem to have been anticipated by one of Israel’s forebears long before the Sinai revelation. And once again, it is not the author’s claim that God revealed the details of this law to the ancestor, who then carried them out to the letter. Rather, the opposite happens: the ancestor – in this case Noah – spontaneously does something that only later comes to be commanded in the Torah: During the seventh week, in its first year, in this jubilee Noah planted a vine at the mountain (whose name was Lubar, one of the mountains of Ararat) on which the ark had come to rest. It produced fruit in the fourth year. He guarded its fruit and picked it that year during the seventh month. He made wine from it, put it in a container, and kept it until the fifth year – until the first day at the beginning of the first month (Jub. 7:1–2).6

5 See M. Kister, “Some Aspects of Qumranic Halakhah,” in The Madrid Qumran Congress (ed. J.T. Barrera and L.V. Montaner; STDJ 11/2; Leiden: Brill, 1992), 571–588. 6 Note that a later passage (Jub. 7:35–36) presents a somewhat different understanding of this law. See M. Kister (previous note). The Figure of Moses in Jubilees 85 The author of Jubilees was certainly familiar with the idea of the divine origin of the Torah’s laws, an idea unambiguously depicted in the Sinai peri- cope (Exodus 19–24, 34) and repeated in numerous passages thereafter. Nevertheless, time and again he seeks to connect those laws to some human source. For example, here is what Noah commands his sons: During the twenty-eighth jubilee, Noah began to prescribe for his grandsons the ordinances and the commandments – every statute which he knew. He warned his sons that they should do what is right, cover the shame of their bodies, bless the one who had created them, honor father and mother, love one another, and keep themselves from forni- cation, uncleanness, and from all injustice. [Noah said:] But now I am the first to see your actions – that you have not been con- ducting yourselves properly because you have begun to conduct yourselves in the way of destruction, to separate from one another, to be jealous of one another, and not to be together with one another, my sons. For I myself see that the demons have begun to lead you and your children astray; and now I fear regarding you that after I have died you will shed human blood on the earth and (that) you yourselves will be obliterated from the surface of the earth. For everyone who sheds human blood and everyone who consumes the blood of any animate being will all be obliterated from the earth. No one who consumes blood or who sheds blood on the earth will be left. He will be left with neither descendants nor posterity living beneath heaven because they will go into Sheol and will descend into the place of judgment. All of them will depart into deep darkness through a violent death. No blood of all the blood which there may be at any time when you sacrifice any animal, cattle, or (creature) that flies above the earth is to be seen on you. Do a good deed for yourselves by covering what is poured out on the surface of the earth. Do not be one who eats (meat) with the blood; exert yourselves so that blood is not con- sumed in your presence. Cover the blood because so was I ordered to testify to you and your children together with all humanity. Do not eat the life with the meat so that your blood, your life, may not be required from every person who sheds (blood) on the earth. For the earth will not be purified of the blood which has been shed on it; but by the blood of the one who shed it the earth will be purified in all its generations (7:20, 26–33). The passage opens: “Noah began to prescribe for his grandsons the ordinances and the commandments – every statute which he knew.” It is not clear from whom Noah came to know these ordinances: he may have heard them, directly or indirectly, from Enoch or some other human source. What is striking, however, is who he did not hear them from: God. This speech is clearly derived from Gen 9:1–6, but there, on the contrary, it is God who is speaking, warning Noah and his sons against shedding human blood or consuming the blood of animals. Unlike the biblical passage from which it is derived, Jubilees says nothing of God transmitting these rules: they come from Noah himself. Having thus first “warned his sons that they should do what is right, cover the shame of their bodies” 86 James Kugel and so on,7 Noah then goes on to command his descendants – again, apparently on his own – not to shed human blood or consume the blood of animals, just as God commands Noah and his sons in Gen 9:1–6. More- over, Noah tells his sons in Jub. 7:30 that if any animal’s blood is shed in the process of its being slaughtered, they are to cover over “what is poured out on the surface of the earth” – which, in the Pentateuch, is likewise a commandment given by God to humans (Lev 17:13). Somewhat later in the book, Jubilees’ author creates the following lengthy speech, in which Isaac instructs his sons before his death: This is what I am ordering you, my sons: that you do what is right and just on the earth so that the Lord may bring on you everything which the Lord said that he would do for Abraham and his descendants. Practice brotherly love among yourselves, my sons, like a man who loves himself, with each one aiming at doing what is good for his brother and at doing things together on the earth. May they love one another as themselves. Regarding the matter of idols, I am instructing you to reject them, to be an enemy of them, and not to love them because they are full of errors for those who worship them and who bow to them. My sons, remember the Lord, the God of your father Abraham (afterwards I, too, worshiped and served him properly and sincerely) so that he may make you numerous and increase your descendants in number like the stars of the sky and plant you in the earth as a righteous plant which will not be uprooted throughout all the history of eternity. Now I will make you swear with the great oath – because there is no oath which is greater than it, by the praiseworthy, illustrious, and great, splendid, marvelous, powerful, and great name which made the heavens and the earth and everything together – that you will continue to fear and worship Him, as each loves his brother kindly and properly. One is not to desire what is bad for his brother now and forever, throughout your entire lifetime, so that you may be prosperous in everything that you do and not be destroyed (36:3–8). Each of the phrases highlighted above refers to a different commandment in the Torah (Lev 19:18; Deut 7:25–26, 8:18, 10:12; Lev 19:17–18). But Jubilees’ author does not attribute them to some divine source; instead, these commandments of the Torah are communicated avant la lettre at Isaac’s own initiative. The message that all these changes introduced into the author’s retelling of Genesis was clear. The great covenant concluded at Mount Sinai really wasn’t so great after all. God had bound Israel to Himself long before, in his covenants with Noah, Abraham, and Israel’s other ancestors. The Ba- bylonian conquest, and such violations of the Sinai covenant as may have

7 Gen 9:1–6 was the biblical source of the rabbinic “seven Noachide laws” to which Noah’s seven commandments here in Jub. 7:20 bear some resemblance. See Kugel, Traditions, 224–226. On these, see D. Novak, The Image of the Non-Jew in Judaism: An Historical and Constructive Study of the Noahide Laws (New York: E. Mellen Press, 1983); J.D. Bleich, “Tikkun Olam: Jewish Obligations to Non-Jewish Society,” in Tikkun Olam: Social Re- sponsibility in Jewish Thought and Law (Northvale: Jason Aronson, 1997). The Figure of Moses in Jubilees 87 led to that catastrophe, certainly caused Israel terrible suffering, but nothing had been abrogated as a result. Israel had been God’s people long before Sinai, it had worshiped God in those pre-Sinai days with the same sacrifices, and on the same holy days, as after Sinai, indeed, at least some of the very laws promulgated at Sinai had been created in imitation of the casual deeds and decisions undertaken by Israel’s remote ancestors. As for Moses, he was, in keeping with this outlook, a singularly diminished figure in Israel’s history. If the Sinai covenant was not all-important, then his role as its mediator was consequently of lesser significance. Moreover, if the gift of the land to Israel’s ancestors was more than a mere promise of real estate, if it was in fact a tangible token of God’s eternal bond with His people, then the exodus itself could not be considered, as it once had, a great turning-point in Israel’s history (if not the very beginning of Israel’s history),8 but merely a return to normalcy after a period of absence in Egypt. For that reason, too, the existence of Moses-as-liberator was less crucial in Jubilees than in the Pentateuch. Other Second Temple writers may have been eloquent in their praise of Moses, sometimes clearly exaggerating his greatness and the miracles he performed – but not Jubi- lees’ author.

The Interpolator

The foregoing may indeed account for the overall image of Moses in Jubi- lees, but it omits another aspect important to the version of things ultimately presented in that book. Two recent studies have highlighted a number of striking contradictions within the book of Jubilees, suggesting that they point to the possibility that our current book includes the work of more than one writer.9 Unmentioned in these studies, however, is the source of the greatest in- consistency within Jubilees, the author’s systematic attribution of the origin of various festivals and other practices to initiatives undertaken by the patriarchs on their own. This attribution was intended, as we have seen, to serve a good cause, but there were no doubt readers of Jubilees who were horrified at the very idea of attributing the origin of the Torah’s laws to some human initiative. To do so was to turn the whole idea of imitatio Dei

8 See on this K. Schmid, Genesis and the Moses Story: Israel’s Dual Origins in the Hebrew Bible (Siphrut 3; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2010). 9 Segal, Book of Jubilees; J. Kugel, “The Interpolations in the Book of Jubilees,” RevQ 24 (2009): 215–272. 88 James Kugel on its head. God’s divine laws, Jubilees seemed to be claiming, were rather a matter of imitatio hominis: such-and-such a practiced is enjoined by God in the Torah as a result of something entirely human in origin, in fact, in the case of the Day of Atonement, as a result of a shabby deception practiced by Joseph’s brothers. Surely, this could not be right! One reader of Jubilees, known herein as the Interpolator, therefore set out to “correct” this aspect of a book that he (and quite possibly, his group) otherwise loved. Rather than accept the author’s claim that this or that holy day had been inaugurated by the all-too-human actions of Israel’s ancestors, he made the exact opposite claim: long before those ancestors ever walked the globe, in fact, from the very beginning of time, those laws had been decreed by God on high. The ancestor in question may have thought he or she was founding some new practice, but in fact, that practice had been decreed by God since the time of the Creation.

The Heavenly Tablets In service of this claim, the Interpolator borrowed a concept that had been around for some time: the Heavenly Tablets.10 As numerous scholars have observed, the idea that some sort of writing tablets exist in heaven has a distinguished history, going back to ancient Mesopotamian writings.11 Al- though the Hebrew Bible does not speak explicitly of heavenly tablets, it does sometimes refer to heavenly or divine writing. Thus, Moses at one point says to God that if He is unwilling to forgive Israel’s sin, “erase me at once from the book that You have written” (Exod 32:32). Psalm 69:29 similarly speaks of a “book of life” from which the wicked will be erased “and will not be written along with the righteous.” Isaiah 4:3 (clearly a late

10 The Heavenly Tablets themselves have been the topic of numerous studies. See, inter alia, F. Garcia Martinez, “Las Tablas Celestes en el Libro de los Jubileos,” in Palabra y Vida: Homenaje a Jose´ Alonso Dı´az en su 70 cumplean˜os (ed. A. Vargas Machuca and G. Ruiz; Madrid: Ediciones Universidad de Comillas, 1984), 333–349 = “The Heavenly Tablets in the Book of Jubilees” in Studies in the Book of Jubilees (ed. M. Albani, J. Frey, and A. Lange; TSAJ 65; Tu¨bingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997), 243–260; A. Lange, Weisheit und Praedestination: Weisheitliche Urordnung und Pra¨destination in den Textfunden von Qumran (STDJ 18; Leiden: Brill, 1995), 69–97; R.A. Kraft, “Scripture and Canon in Jewish Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha,” in Antiquity (vol. 1 of Hebrew Bible, Old Testa- ment: The History of its Interpretation; ed. M. Sæbø; Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1996), [199–216] 205–209; C. Werman, “The Torah and the Te‘udah Written on the Tablets,” Tarbiz 68 (1999): 473–492; H. Najman, “Angels at Sinai: Exegesis, The- ology, and Interpretive Authority” DSD 7 (2000): 313–333; idem, Seconding Sinai: The Development of Mosaic Discourse in Second Temple Judaism (Leiden: Brill, 2003), 119– 125; M. Kister, “Two Formulae in the Book of Jubilees,” Tarbiz 70 (2001): 289–300. 11 S.M. Paul, “Heavenly Tablets and the Book of Life,” JANES 5 (1973): 345–353; also R. Eppel, “Les tables de la loi et les tables ce´lestes” RHPhR 17 (1937): 401–412. The Figure of Moses in Jubilees 89 addition to the book) says of a group of survivors: “Whoever is left in Zion and remains in Jerusalem will be called holy, everyone who has been written for life in Jerusalem.” Malachi 3:16 similarly speaks of “a book of re- membrance [that] was written before [i.e., by] Him of those who revered the Lord and thought on his name.” These and other passages all suggest that the notion of some sort of divine book kept in heaven was not unknown in biblical Israel; in it were recorded the names of the righteous, and this act of recording was to their benefit – in some cases, it seems, it meant they were to be granted continued earthly existence. Still closer to the world of Jubilees is 1 Enoch, a book that preceded Ju- bilees by perhaps fifty or a hundred years and parts of which the original author of Jubilees seems to have known and even cited.12 In 1 Enoch, the Heavenly Tablets are tablets on which the good and bad deeds of humanity are recorded – at least some, apparently, before they have taken place – and on which other heavenly mysteries, including future events, are revealed. Thus 1 En. 81:1, 2 speaks of “the book of all the deeds of mankind and of all the children of flesh that shall be upon the earth to the remotest generations.” 1 Enoch 93:2 says that Enoch learned from the Heavenly Tablets about “the sons of righteousness and the eternally chosen ones, and about the plant of uprightness.” In 1 En. 103:2–3, Enoch reports that he has “read the Heavenly Tablets” about the righteous, “that all goodness and joy and glory are prepared for them.” In 1 En. 106:19, Enoch says that he knows “the mysteries of the holy ones; for He, the Lord, has showed me and informed me, and I have read [them] in the Heavenly Tablets.” In 107:1, Enoch says that he saw written on the Heavenly Tablets “that generation after generation will do wrong, until a generation of righteousness arises and wrongdoing is destroyed and sin is wiped out from the earth and every good omen comes upon it” (see also 108:3, 7).13 These same themes – that the Heavenly Tablets contain a record of the righteous and the wicked, as well as of events yet to occur – appear in other texts from this period. Thus, among the Dead Sea Scrolls, 4Q180 Ages of Creation A opens: “The interpretation concerning the ages which God made: an age to mark the end of […] and that which was created. Before He created them He determined [their] operations […every] age to its end. And this is engraved on the [heavenly] tablets.” Similarly, 4Q177 Catenaa says: “Now behold: everything is written on the tablets, which […]

12 See, e. g., Jub. 4:17 and 1 En. 12:3–4; Jub. 4:17 and 1 En. 80:1; Jub. 5:6 and 1 En. 10:12; 13:1–2; 21:6; Jub. 5:7 and 1 En. 10:12; Jub. 7:21–24 and 1 En. 7:1; 8:1–2; 10:11; 12:4. 13 On all these see L. Stuckenbruck 1 Enoch 91–108 (CEJL; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007), esp. 81–86. 90 James Kugel and inform him of the number of [all generatio]ns, and gran[t him as an] inheritance…[to] him and his offspring [for]ever” (III, 12). The fragmen- tary 4Q537 Testament of Jacob [?] ar,, apparently connected to Jub. 32:16– 26, has an angel bid Jacob to read from tablets that foretell the future, perhaps including future punishment of the wicked (last line). The Heavenly Tablets likewise make their appearance in the Greek Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs (T. Levi 5:4;14 T. Asher 2:9;15 7:5). The “Prayer of Jo- seph” (of uncertain date) has Jacob say: “For I have read in the Heavenly Tablets all that shall befall you and your sons.”16 But all these texts view the Heavenly Tablets principally as a record of righteous and wicked people and events, both past and future. The particular innovation of the Interpolator was to use this existing concept of the Heavenly Tablets in order to solve his own problem with the book of Jubi- lees. Even more than he hated the idea of human intervention in the calendar (in regard to both the beginnings of months and the dating of the Festival of Weeks),17 he hated the claim by Jubilees’ original author that various divine laws were essentially based on things spontaneously initiated by humans. So he adapted the Heavenly Tablets to a new purpose, previously undreamed of: they would also be the repository of a great set of divine laws, statutes that had been “written and engraved” from the beginning of time and which, therefore, must have preceded any actions by Noah, Abraham, or the other patriarchs that seemed to have originated various festivals and other practices. In this way, he solved the aspect of

14 Here the Heavenly Tablets contain a record of past events, Levi’s virtuous execution of Hamor, “as it is written in the Heavenly Tablets.” This is clearly a reflection of Jub. 30:19. 15 M. Kister (“Two Formulae”) has described this verse as suggesting that the laws of pure food are written on the Heavenly Tablets. Even if that were true, it would have no significance for our topic, since the Testaments are clearly later than Jubilees and borrow heavily from them. But it seems to me that what this text is asserting is not that those laws are written on the Heavenly Tablets, but that men who do both good and evil “are like pigs or hares, for they are half clean, but in truth they are unclean. For God has said so [about such people] in the Heavenly Tablets,” that is, they have been condemned (altogether in keeping with the pre-Jubilees, classical function of the Heavenly Tablets as foretelling future punishments) as “unclean” through and through. Note also that 4Q400 Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice says at one point that God “has inscribed his laws for all spiritual creatures” (1 I, 5), which may possibly be a reference to the Heavenly Tablets in Jubilees. 16 See J.Z. Smith, “The Prayer of Joseph,” in Expansions of the Old Testament and Legends, Wisdom and Philosophical Literature, Prayers, Psalms, and Odes: Fragments of Lost Judeo-Hellenistic Works (ed. J. Charlesworth; Old Testament Pseudepigrapha 2; Garden City: Doubleday, 1985), 714. 17 See my “Interpolations in the Book of Jubilees,” 241–248, 262–263. The Figure of Moses in Jubilees 91 Jubilees that must have been the most troubling for him and, quite possibly, the group to which he belonged.18 Not only did he seek to counter this claim when invoked by the original author, but he also sought out further connections between incidents re- counted in Jubilees and various laws promulgated later in the Torah: The curse of Cain in Gen. 4:11 thus corresponded to the law of Deut 27:24 and the manner of his death (unreported in the Pentateuch but described in Jub. 4:31–32) reflected the law of Lev. 24:19–20; the oath sworn by Noah and his sons (Jub. 6:10) was connected to the law of the tamid sacrifices (Exod 29:38–42 and Num 28:3–8), and so forth. In these instances as well, the Interpolator asserted that long before the event took place in patriarchal times, the law that was ultimately given to Moses on Mount Sinai had been “written and inscribed on the Heavenly Tablets.” How could two such contradictory outlooks manage to coexist in the same book? Part of the Interpolator’s genius was not to seem to disagree with the original author, but merely to supplement his words with the re- frain, “And so it is written and ordained in the Heavenly Tablets.” Time and again, where the original author had attributed a law or practice to one of the patriarchs, the Interpolator inserted his own qualifier: This may look like human initiative, but that is an illusion. Long before Abraham, long before Noah, all of divine law had been written in heaven, on the Heavenly Tablets.19

18 Note that the Interpolator also spoke of the Heavenly Tablets in the traditional sense: for example, a record of Abraham’s righteousness and his future appellation “the friend of God” were recorded on the Heavenly Tablets (19:9); the punishment to be suffered by Lot’s descendants (17:9); the reward to be given to the righteous (23:32); the curse to befall the Philistines (24:33); Levi’s righteous acts in slaughtering the Shechemites and the reward prepared for his descendants (30:5, 19); and so forth. All of these instances clearly belong to the “old” notion of the Heavenly Tablets, the same notion presented in 1 Enoch and other texts referenced above. But in truth, the Heavenly Tablets were important to the author of Jubilees principally for their value in confuting the original author’s idea that later biblical laws were based on the actions of the patriarchs. 19 I suspect that some scholars will seek to argue that Jubilees is nonetheless the work of a single author, who wished at one and the same time to attribute certain practices to the apparent initiative of various biblical figures, all the while asserting that these practices were in fact consonant with things written long before in the Heavenly Tablets. But it seems impossible to imagine one and the same person desiring to assert these two op- posites: if he wished to say that God’s laws were eternal, then by all means have Abra- ham or Noah initiate them on earth at God’s instruction, or at least assert that God had somehow manipulated events so as to have these patriarchs unconsciously act in ac- cordance with the Heavenly Tablets. But that is clearly not what Jubilees says. On reflection, both claims cannot come from the same pen. Apart from this overall argument, however, lie the numerous internal contradictions in Jubilees that also indicate the presence of two writers, the second of whom often misunderstood what the first was saying. See Segal, Book of Jubilees; and Kugel, “The Interpolations.” 92 James Kugel Although they acted out of completely different, indeed, opposite mo- tives, both the original author and the Interpolator did agree on one thing: the revelation at Mount Sinai did not count for much. For the original author, it did not count for much because the great agreement hammered out there – “If you obey Me faithfully and keep my covenant, then you will be My treasured possession” (Exod 19:5) – was merely a reiteration of a relationship that had existed for centuries before, indeed, one that went back to the first sabbath in history. Moreover, at least some of the laws that were promulgated at Sinai were copied from the spontaneous actions of Israel’s illustrious ancestors. For the Interpolator, by contrast, the Sinai revelation did not count for much because its laws had always been in existence on the Heavenly Tablets. What happened at Sinai was thus merely a public proclamation of existing statutes. In either case, it was not only the laws and covenant of Mount Sinai that were diminished, but the figure of the man who stood at their center. In the book of Jubilees, Moses is indeed a minor figure, his diminution in status the product of the conflicting agendas of the two men responsible for the book as we have it today.

James Kugel Bible Department Faculty of Jewish Studies Bar Ilan University 52900 Ramat Gan Israel [email protected] Carl S. Ehrlich

‘Noughty’ Moses: A Decade of Moses Scholarship 2000–2010

I. Introduction

The first decade of the twenty-first century (the “noughts”) has borne wit- ness to a lively and wide-ranging engagement with the figure of Moses, to which the present author has also made his own modest contribution.1 The aim of the current article is to survey some of the literature that has been published on the theme over the course of this decade (broadly defined to include the eleven years 2000–2010, thus encompassing both competing standard definitions of the temporal parameters of the decade). On account of space limitations and owing to the wealth of scholarship on Moses during this time, the emphasis will be placed on monographs dealing with Moses as a cultural figure, thereby leaving out of consideration a number of important articles and other worthy works, including com- mentaries2 and edited volumes.3 Nonetheless, it is hoped that a consideration of a selection of the major monographs written on Moses will provide a reasonable survey of the current state of Moses scholarship.

1 C.S. Ehrlich, “Moses, Torah, and Judaism,” in The Rivers of Paradise: Moses, Buddha, Confucius, Jesus, and Muhammad as Religious Founders (ed. D.N. Freedman and M.J. McClymond; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 11–119. 2 E.g., S.M. Langston, Exodus through the Centuries (Blackwell Bible Commentaries; Mal- den: Blackwell Publishing, 2006); C. Meyers, Exodus (NCBC; Cambridge; Cambridge University Press, 2005); W.H.C. Propp, Exodus 19–40 (AB 2 A; New York: Doubleday, 2006). 3 Among these edited collections are the following: P. Borgeaud, T. Ro¨mer, and Y. Volok- hine, ed., Interpre´tations de Moı¨se. E´gypte, Jude´e, Gre`ce et Rome (Jerusalem Studies in Re- ligion and Culture 10; Leiden: Brill, 2010); R. Ginsberg and I. Pardes, ed., New Perspec- tives on Freud’s Moses and Monotheism (Conditio Judaica 60; Tu¨bingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag, 2006); and A. Graupner and M. Wolter, ed., Moses in Biblical and Extra-Biblical Traditions (BZAW 372; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007). Also being left out of consideration are works that do not engage with serious scholarship, such as M. Lichtenstein, Moses: Envoy of God, Envoy of His People (Jersey City: Ktav, 2008).

Over the course of the decade of the noughts, E. Otto has been one of the most prolific writers on the subject of Moses.4 His short introduction, Mose: Geschichte und Legende, both (1) summarizes his literary theories regarding the Pentateuchal Moses texts and their place within the inner- Israelite/-Judean religious and political discourse and (2) presents the general reader with an overview of Moses’ place within the western religious and cultural traditions. After a brief introduction (pp. 7–9), in which he contrasts the diametrically opposed attitudes toward the Ten Command- ments expressed in 1933 by Adolf Hitler and in 1942 by Thomas Mann in order to underline the power and relevance of the Mosaic message in the more-or-less contemporary world, Otto proceeds to a presentation of the Pentateuch’s Moses narrative (pp. 9–21). This is followed by a discussion of the search for the historical Moses in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, the upshot of which was the discovery of Moses as a literary rather than historical figure (pp. 21–27). Nonetheless, Otto does venture to speculate that an indistinct outline of the historical Moses may be retrieved from the traditions surrounding him and his relationship through marriage to the Midianite priesthood (pp. 27–34). Thus, the historical Moses was somehow involved in the introduction of the worship of the desert god Yahweh into the Israelite heartland, a dim memory of which was handed down in the early Passover traditions. The core of the book (pp. 35–81) is devoted to Otto’s analysis of the redactional layers he has identified within the biblical Moses traditions as well as to their dating and theological evaluation alike. The first level is dated to the period of Assyrian rule, when the presentation of Moses was conceived of as a counterweight to the prevailing Assyrian royal ideology (pp. 35–42).5 Starting with a revision of the Sargonid birth of Sargon legend,6 Moses is presented in royal terms as the champion, leader, and law-

4 Cf. E. Otto, “Mose und das Gesetz: Die Mose-Figur als Gegenentwurf Politischer Theol- ogie zur Neuassyrischen Ko¨nigsideologie im 7. Jh. v .Chr.,” in Mose: A¨gypten und das Alte Testament (ed. E. Otto; SBS 189; Stuttgart: Verlag Katholisches Bibelwerk, 2000) 43–83; idem, Die Tora des Mose: Die Geschichte der literarischen Vermittlung von Recht, Religion und Politik durch die Mosegestalt (Berichte aus den Sitzungen der Joachim Jungius-Ge- sellschaft der Wissenschaften e.V. Hamburg 19/2; Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2001); idem, “Mose: I. Altes Testament,” RGG4 5:1534–1536; idem, “Mose, der erste Schriftgelehrte: Deuteronomium 1,5 in der Fabel des Pentateuch,” in L’ E´crit et l’esprit (ed. D. Bo¨hler et al.; OBO 214; Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2005), 273–284; idem, Mose: Geschichte und Legende (Mu¨nchen: Beck, 2006). 5 See also Otto, “Mose und das Gesetz” (n. 3–4). 6 See COS 1.133. ‘Noughty’ Moses: A Decade of Moses Scholarship 2000–2010 95 giver of his people. In keeping with studies that have demonstrated the influence of Assyrian treaty forms on the biblical concept of covenant,7 Otto dates the association of Moses and the covenant to this period. He dates the second major phase to the exilic period (586–539 B.C.E.), when the function of Moses as prophet and intermediary between God and the people became paramount (pp. 42–54). Through the introduction of the Deu- teronomistic theology of sin and punishment, the way was opened for the repentance and future restoration of the people. On the other hand, the contemporaneous Priestly tradition emphasized the priestly and cultic functions of Moses. The localization of revelation outside the land of Israel allowed the retention of a Judean ethnic and religious identity in exile and, in Otto’s eyes, established the Priestly tradition as diasporic in perspective. A counterargument was advanced in the fifth century B.C.E., when the Mosaic traditions merged with the Joshua traditions and produced a Hexateuch in which the promise and conquest of the land became the central concern (pp. 54–64). However, the Priestly party proved triumphant when Ezra, whom Otto dates to 398 B.C.E. (p. 60), was able to lop off the book of Joshua and create a Pentateuch in which both the figure of Moses and his story became the center of the nascent Jewish tradition. In the context of the above lengthy discussion, the figure of Moses re- treats into the background and the emphasis is placed on the development of the scriptural traditions associated with Moses, which the chart on p. 48 outlines. After a discussion of the Ten Commandments and their place within the Pentateuch as well as in later Judaism and Christianity (pp. 64– 75), Otto looks at the minimal role of Moses in the Hebrew Bible outside the Torah (pp. 75–81). This he attributes to the lateness of the Moses tradition, which as a Priestly/legal tradition stood in opposition to the prophetic traditions that dominate the later books. By making Moses the greatest of the prophets (Deut 34:10–12), the Priestly vision ultimately tri- umphed, as is evidenced by the place of the Mosaic Torah in rabbinic Judaism. The rest of the book looks at the figure of Moses in various post-biblical traditions. First, Otto summarizes briefly the use of Moses in pro- and anti-Jewish Hellenistic literature (pp. 81–91), a topic that has been much discussed in recent years.8 This is followed by a glance at Moses within

7 E.g., H.U. Steymans, Deuteronomium 28 und die adeˆ zur Thronfolgeregelung Asarhad- dons: Segen und Fluch im Alten Orient (OBO 145; Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1995). 8 See, e. g., J. Assmann, Moses the Egyptian: The Memory of Egypt in Western Monotheism (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1997), 23–54; L.H. Feldman, Jew and Gentile in the Ancient World: Attitudes and Interactions from Alexander to Justinian (Princeton: 96 Carl S. Ehrlich Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, in which, cognizant of his presumed audience and his own background, Otto places the greatest emphasis on the second of the three (pp. 91–101). In a chapter entitled “Mose, Monotheis- mus und die Menschenrechte,” Otto takes issue with the central thesis of J. Assmann’s Moses the Egyptian:9 namely, that Moses has become a figure of cultural memory transmitting an intolerant and violent form of monotheism (pp. 101–107). While conceding the partial applicability of Assmann’s argument, Otto draws attention to Moses as a symbol of freedom from oppression. Finally, taking as his point of departure Thomas Mann’s and Sigmund Freud’s thoughts regarding Michelangelo’s statue of Moses for the tomb of Pope Julius II, Otto discusses the death of Moses in some examples of twentieth century German literature (pp. 107–119). Although this volume is replete with information and quite wide-ranging in scope, it ultimately may not satisfy those interested in Moses scholarship per se. Too much space is devoted to Otto’s redaction-historical analysis of the Pentateuch and not enough to the figure of Moses himself. In addition, he gives short shrift to both the post-biblical Jewish and Mus- lim Moses traditions. Nor does he justify his limiting the discussion of Moses literature to miscellaneous German-language depictions of his death. Had he spent less time on redaction history and more time on the Moses traditions, this book would have been more satisfying.

III. Thomas Ro¨mer’s Moı¨se

Many of these criticisms would be moot if Otto had written a work more like T. Ro¨mer’s Moı¨se.10 In spite of its being a short book, numbering just 128 picture-filled pages cover to cover, this work is arguably the most comprehensive one published on the subject of Moses during the past decade. Meant as a popular introduction to Moses both in the biblical and post-biblical traditions, no other work covers as much territory as this one does. The book opens with an “Ouverture” (pp. 1–9) that introduces the Moses story by reproducing selected images thence by Gustave Dore´, ac-

Princeton University Press, 1993), 233–287; P. Scha¨fer, Judeophobia: Attitudes toward the Jews in the Ancient World (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1997) esp. 15–120. 9 See n. 8. 10 T. Ro¨mer, Moı¨se: “lui que Yahve´ a connu face a` face” (Paris : Gallimard, 2002). Ro¨mer has also published his inaugural lecture at the Colle`ge de France as a short monograph (Les cornes de Moı¨se: Faire entrer la Bible dans l’histoire [Lec¸ons inaugurales du Colle`ge de France 206; Paris: Colle`ge de France, 2009]). However, this volume is not about Moses per se but uses a discussion of his “horns” as the entryway into a broader presentation about the modern study of the Hebrew Bible. ‘Noughty’ Moses: A Decade of Moses Scholarship 2000–2010 97 companied by brief descriptions by Ro¨mer. The first chapter (“Aux origi- nes de l’histoire de Moı¨se” pp. 12–35) is concerned with the biblical Moses narrative. After discussing the place of the narrative within the biblical context and specifically within the Pentateuch, which he views as a form of Moses-biography, Ro¨mer summarizes the biblical Moses story (pp. 12–23). He locates the origins of biblical literature, including the formation of the Moses narrative, within the context of the Neo-Assyrian Empire (pp. 24– 29). The birth narrative echoes that of Sargon, including the questionable paternity, which, in Moses’ case, Ro¨mer deduces from Exod 2:1, where a Levite “takes a woman” – an idiom that in his eyes implies an illicit sexual union. Also dating to this time are the themes of Moses as liberator and the ten plagues, the former indicating a desire to be rid of the hated As- syrian domination while the latter proclaims the superiority of Israel’s God. Like a Mesopotamian king, Moses becomes a royal lawgiver, which the Deuteronomistic reforms of King Josiah epitomize (pp. 29–31). Fol- lowing the Babylonian destruction and exile, two competing images of Moses develop, the first of which presents him in priestly garb as the pre- scriber of ritual law and the second of which turns him into the archetypal prophet (pp. 31–35). In his second chapter (“Une personnage aux multiples visages” pp. 36– 53), Ro¨mer pays greater attention to the various roles assumed by Moses in the biblical narrative as the first among the prophets (primus inter prophetes), as the liberator of his people, as a legislator and royal figure, and as the intercessor between the human and the divine. The third chapter (“L’homme Moı¨se” pp. 54–67) is devoted to the question of the historical Moses. While he casts doubt on the connection between the Hyksos and the biblical Israelites and on the historical validity of the references to Pithom and Raamses in Exod 1:11, Ro¨mer does draw attention to possible connections not only with the New Kingdom Shasu and their potential veneration of Yahweh (yhw) but also with the Apiru in the Amarna letters. After a discussion of the Egyptian origin of the name Moses, he examines three figures from the late New Kingdom period who have been mentioned as possible models for the historical Moses, the most likely of which is the chancellor Beya in the early twelth century. Finally, Ro¨mer examines and rejects the evidence for the influence of Atenism on a supposed Mo- saic monotheism. The final chapter of Ro¨mer’s book is devoted to various post-biblical readings and reinterpretations of the character of Moses (pp. 68–95). In this chapter he moves from Moses as the first target of anti-Semitism in the Greco-Roman world and continues by addressing outlooks on Moses in Christianity as a figure of both rupture and continuity (in the New Tes- 98 Carl S. Ehrlich tament and the church fathers), in Judaism as its central figure, and finally in Islam as Muhammad’s precursor – all before turning his attention to various more artistic and cultural creations that include music (in particular the operas of Gioachino Rossini and Arnold Scho¨nberg), the oeuvre of Sigmund Freud (both his musings on Michelangelo’s statue of Moses and his Moses and Monotheism), and American symbols of Moses ranging from the writings of Benjamin Franklin to the films The Ten Command- ments (1956) and Prince of Egypt (1998). In a series of appendices, Ro¨mer provides a selection of translations into French from the Hebrew Bible (about the Ten Commandments, the crossing of the Red [sic!] Sea, and the foreign women in Moses’ life), anti-Jewish and Jewish Hellenistic literature, Muslim literature (the Quran and the writings of Al-Tabari), Freud’s works, and various miscellanea (Benjamin Franklin, Arnold Scho¨nberg, and the movie The Matrix, concerning the main character as a conglomer- ation of Moses and Jesus). The volume concludes helpfully with various lists, such as a chronology, a bibliography, a filmography, a record of illus- trations, and an index. Overall, even though Ro¨mer doesn’t forge new paths in this book, he provides an excellent and broad summary of current research on the subject of Moses. Particularly welcome features of the volume include sidebars that go on explicatory tangents and provide texts relevant to the subject matter under discussion. Providing an unexpected delight is the wealth of colourful artistic material interspersed with the text and beautifully repro- duced in what is in essence a most affordable book. If this book were to be translated into English, it would reach a much larger audience as the first choice for those interested in Moses as both a biblical and cultural figure.

IV. C. Bo¨ttrich, B. Ego, and F. Eißler’s Mose in Judentum, Christentum und Islam

Not strictly speaking a monograph but a work authored by the three scholars C. Bo¨ttrich, B. Ego, and F. Eißler, Mose in Judentum, Christentum und Islam sets out to examine the significance of Moses in the three major western or Abrahamic religious traditions.11 This book is part of a series of books written by these three authors and published by Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht under the rubric of Biblische Personen als Gespra¨chsvermittler, a series that by now also encompasses studies on Abraham, Adam and Eve,

11 C. Bo¨ttrich, B. Ego, and F. Eißler, Mose in Judentum, Christentum und Islam (Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2010). ‘Noughty’ Moses: A Decade of Moses Scholarship 2000–2010 99 Jesus and Mary, and (eventually) one on Elijah and other prophets. Aimed at a Christian audience and written by Christian theologians, this series is an attempt to engage with the “other” in a discussion about figures foun- dational to the three traditions in question, though the choice of subjects clearly reflects Christian biases and concerns. Ego, a professor of OT studies in Osnabru¨ck, wrote the chapter on Moses in Judaism (pp. 11–66). Not surprisingly, it emphasizes the biblical text and Jewish writings from classical antiquity, while giving short shrift to the Moses of rabbinic Judaism and its successors. Introducing her remarks with a brief critique of Assmann’s theories regarding Moses as the bridge leading from tolerant polytheism to violent monotheism (pp. 11– 12), she quickly turns to a discussion of the biblical Moses traditions where she largely follows Otto’s redaction-critical reading (pp. 12–30). Her translation of Exodus 3:14 (“Ich bin der, der [fu¨r euch helfend da] ist“) appears to owe more to an understanding of the Septuagint tradition than it does the Masoretic one, while prescriptively imposing on the reader only one of many possible interpretations of the phrase. While supposedly making her audience aware of Judaism’s understanding of the Moses story, she uses language drawn more from the Christian traditions, such as Reguel (following the Septuagint) instead of Reuel (or Re’u’el) for Moses’ father-in-law and Passahfest instead of (the) Pessach(-fest),12 the latter of which would have been closer to reproducing the names as used both in the Hebrew Bible and in later Judaism.13 In addition, Ego misses the opportunity to fill in hermeneutic blanks by recourse to Jewish tradition, one example of which would be her claim that the biblical text leaves open the question whether the Ten Commandments were received by the people directly from God or transmitted to them by Moses (p. 16). This question is directly addressed, e. g., in b. Makkot 23b-24a, in which it is felt that the first two commandments were addressed directly to Israel, while the latter eight were transmitted through Moses. Finally, her understanding of the biblical canon that seemingly includes the book of Baruch (p. 28, cf. p. 44) differs from a traditional Jewish one. The following section on Moses in pre-rabbinic Jewish writings is the strongest part of Ego’s presentation (pp. 30–52). The discussion is divided between sources from the Hellenistic Diaspora (pp. 31–43) and from pre- rabbinic Palestinian Judaism (pp. 43–52), emphasizing Philo in the case of

12 Unlike Bo¨ttrich, the author of the following chapter, who uses the term Pessachfest (e. g., p. 71). 13 Compare, e. g., these designations in W.G. Plaut, ed., Die Tora in ju¨discher Auslegung: -Exodus (trans. A. Bo¨ckler; Gu¨tersloh: Kaiser, Gu¨tersloher Ver מש ו ת Band II, Schemot lagshaus, 2000), 47, 123ff. 100 Carl S. Ehrlich the former (pp. 35–41) and Pseudo-Philo in the case of the latter (pp. 48– 52). This leaves her barely eleven pages to discuss Moses in rabbinic literature (pp. 52–60) and in Jewish liturgy (pp. 60–62).14 Only on the final two pages of her essay does Ego quote Moses Maimonides and Martin Buber, quickly and superficially bringing into the discussion one medieval and one modern Jewish thinker/theologian before concluding the chapter. By restricting her discussion of post-rabbinic Judaism to these two relatively brief footnotes, she is unintentionally fostering a presentation of Judaism as a curious relic from the distant past rather than as a living tradition in which Moses still functions as a central religious symbol. The shortest chapter in the volume is C. Bo¨ttrich’s on Moses in Christi- anity (pp. 67–111). In his introduction (pp. 67–69), Bo¨ttrich draws attention to the two characteristics of the Moses story that most fire the Chris- tian imagination: the freeing of the Israelites from slavery and the receiv- ing of the commandments on Mount Sinai. However, a typological reading tempers the positive attitude toward Moses in Christianity, where Moses stands in tension with Jesus as his prefigurement and where Jesus is the one destined to complete the work that Moses had only begun. The bulk of Bo¨ttrich’s exposition is devoted to Moses in the New Testament writings (pp. 70–100). Even though Moses is the most frequently mentioned OT figure in the NT,15 little of his biography is referenced in the text. It is mainly as the transmitter of the divine word that he enters the NT traditions. In addition, Bo¨ttrich draws attention to the NT’s incorporation of Moses motifs from Jewish-Hellenistic and nascent midrashic literature (72–74). The heart of the chapter (pp. 74–91) is devoted to an analysis of the major images of Moses presented in the NT: God’s confidant, a repre- sentative of the Torah,16 a “life coach,” an exemplar of faith, and a bearer of hope for the oppressed. In each case, Bo¨ttrich endeavors to locate the early Christian community within the Jewish fold. The typological aspect of Moses in the NT is examined in greater detail on pp. 92–100. Most important in the typology of Moses as harbinger of Jesus is his function as prophet, but aspects of his story also function to actualize the experience of the early Christian community as delineated by the various NT authors. The following section of Bo¨ttrich’s essay is concerned with the figure of Moses in post-NT Christian traditions (pp. 100–107). He introduces the subject with a perusal of Michelangelo’s statue of Moses in the church of

14 Pp. 63–66 consist of a bibliography. 15 According to Bo¨ttrich, there are 80 references to Moses in the NT, while there are 76 to Abraham (p. 70). 16 A word that Bo¨ttrich makes ample use of, although I suspect that nomos or “law” would be more in keeping with the Urtext. ‘Noughty’ Moses: A Decade of Moses Scholarship 2000–2010 101 San Pietro in Vincoli in Rome, which he uses as the point of departure for a very brief discussion of the horned Moses in Christian art. While he attributes this iconography to a mistaken translation of the Hebrew, he ig- nores the influence of this translation tradition on the development of an anti-Semitic iconography in medieval Europe associating the Jews with the Devil.17 Following a brief discussion that addresses the developing ambiv- alence toward Moses in Christian thought, Bo¨ttrich looks at the role of Moses in Protestant art as the bearer of the preacher’s pulpit. In his final reflections (pp. 107–108), Bo¨ttrich speculates in the light of 9/11 that the Ten (Mosaic) Commandments may serve as the basis of a universal ethics (Weltethos). However, this illusory hope is based on a misunderstanding of their place in Jewish thought, where they serve as an integral part of God’s revelation specifically with Israel, and on a misapprehension of their reception in the Muslim tradition,18 leaving out of consideration their lack of applicability as a whole to most of the world’s religious systems. In the final essay in the volume, F. Eißler looks at Moses in Islam (pp. 112–181). Even more than in the previous two chapters, the perspective is restricted to the scriptural foundations of the religion in question, namely to the Koran (Qur’a¯n). Moses’ importance is underlined by the fact that he – in the Arabic form of his name, Mu¯sa¯ – is mentioned exponen- tially more often (in ca. 502 verses in 36 suras) than any other biblical figure in the Koran.19 His major role in the Koran is as the prophet who transmits the divine commandments to Israel and who enjoys the desig- nation “the one with whom God has spoken.”20 As such, he stands opposed to the Pharaoh and becomes the greatest of the prophets before Muhammad. To a large extent, the Koranic presentation of Moses is re- flective of Muhammad’s situation. Hence, most of the Moses verses are dated to Muhammad’s second and third Mecca periods, which began in 615 C.E. This is particularly clear in Moses’ leadership of a small group of faithful against the seemingly greater and more powerful unfaithful, only to emerge triumphant at the end. These themes are addressed in the first section of Eißler’s essay, which also includes a short introduction to the Koran and to subsequent traditional literature regarding Muhammad and his revelation. The remainder of his chapter (pp. 118–178) goes methodi-

17 See, e. g., J. Trachtenberg, The Devil and the Jews: The Medieval Conception of the Jew and Its Relation to Modern Anti-Semitism (Foreword by M. Saperstein; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1983 [1943]); H. Schreckenberg, The Jews in Christian Art: An Illustrated History (trans. J. Bowden; New York: Continuum, 1996), 241–250. 18 On the latter of which, see pp. 167–170 in the volume under discussion. 19 Abraham is mentioned 235 times, while Jesus is found in only 93 verses (p. 112). 20 “Kalim Allah, ‘derjenige, mit dem Gott geredet hat’” (p. 113). 102 Carl S. Ehrlich cally through the suras that relate specifically to the story of Moses, leaving out of consideration those in which he plays a subordinate role. The or- ganizational principle is to follow a reconstructed chronology of the Moses story, which, like the Muhammad story, the Koran does not present chronologically. In this manner, Eißler’s essay presents a commentary on the central Koranic Moses passages, in which liberal use is made of quota- tions from the text. It thus serves as a valuable compendium of the central Koranic verses dealing with Moses, who distinguishes himself from Mu- hammad as the recipient of direct divine revelation (pp. 141–142). Throughout Eißler makes an effort to indicate the manner in which the Koran rewrites and reworks its scriptural and post-biblical sources, as well as presenting the traditions unique to the Koran. Of particular interest is the manner in which the figure of Moses is eventually “islamified” (islami- siert), as Muhammad’s attitude toward the Jewish community became increasingly negative, which is reflected in the presentation of Moses’ attitude toward the Israelites in later Koranic passages (pp. 171–178). Even more than the other chapters, Eißler’s essay focuses solely on the scriptural foundations of the religious tradition in question. I will leave it to others to determine whether this is appropriate in this case, as it arguably is in the case of Christianity. However, in the case of Judaism, to rely to such a great extent on the Hebrew Bible as indicative of the religion’s understanding of the figure of Moses is to shortchange the rabbinic tradition, which is to Judaism what the New Testament is to Christianity and the Koran to Islam – namely, a rewriting and reworking of earlier traditions.

V. M. Wright‘s Moses in America

As her subtitle indicates, M. Wright’s reworked Oxford dissertation Moses in America stresses The Cultural Uses of Biblical Narrative.21 In pursuing this subject matter, she formulates her approach as a methodological attack on the traditional concerns of biblical scholars, whom she views as elitist and narrow-minded in their interests.22 Whatever one may think of the applicability and appropriateness of her blanket condemnation of a branch of scholarship near and dear to my heart, she has provided her readers with an interesting and well-researched look at the cultural uses of the figure of Moses in three artistic creations that span thirty years of American

21 M.J. Wright, Moses in America: The Cultural Uses of Biblical Narrative (AARCCS; Ox- ford: Oxford University Press, 2003). 22 Wright, Moses, pp. 8–9. ‘Noughty’ Moses: A Decade of Moses Scholarship 2000–2010 103 history: L. Steffen’s novel Moses in Red (1926), Z.N. Hurston’s novel Moses, Man of the Mountain (1939), and C.B. DeMille’s film The Ten Command- ments (1956). In all three cases what interests her is not the “text” per se, but the context – both historical-social and personal – within which the text was created and the text’s reception both at the time of creation and subsequently.23 In her “Introduction” (pp. 3–12), Wright lays out her methodological assumptions and positions herself firmly within the scholarly grid as a cultural historian. The following three chapters, the heart of the book, deal with her three test cases and promise to shed light on the “American political and social self-comprehension [that] has been articulated in relation to this biblical narrative” (p.10). All three of the central chapters of the book regarding Steffens (pp. 13–42), Hurston (pp. 43–88), and DeMille (pp. 89–127) provide ample evidence of Wright’s ability to understand a particular moment in history and the social currents that framed it as well as of her capacity to situate her creators and their “readers” within their respective contexts. The background for Steffens’ Moses in Red is the First World War, the Roaring Twenties, and – given the subject matter – the Mexican Revolu- tion (1910) and especially the Russian Revolution (1917). In this reading of Moses and particularly of the exodus, it is their revolutionary aspect that is most prominent for Steffens, for whom Moses becomes a Lenin figure (sic!), leading the Hebrews in revolt against their oppressors and then on to freedom in the promised land, which Steffens hoped would also become a prescriptive paradigm for America. Wright argues that Steffens was not an apologist for Soviet-style Marxism (pp. 26–34). Instead, he attempted to understand the biblical story as a typical tale of revolution. Nonetheless, he argued that America had lost its way as the beacon of freedom in the world only to be replaced by Russia. Hence, Moses in Red was an appeal to his fellow citizens to rediscover their revolutionary origins and attendant mo- rality. In light of the subsequent tensions between the United States and the Soviet Union and the ensuing suspicion of the great-leader school of social thought, it is no wonder why this book failed to enjoy the reception Steffens had hoped for. Hurston’s Moses, Man of the Mountain suffered a similar fate. Its author studied anthropology under F. Boas and participated in the fabled Harlem Renaissance. However, as a woman with multiple divorces before the sexual revolution, as an African-American before the civil rights movement,

23 Or as Wright phrases it: “… to explore how their images of Moses function within particular contexts of production and reception” (p. 6). 104 Carl S. Ehrlich and as a southerner in the northeast, she was an outsider on many different levels that contributed to the virtual erasure of her memory well before her death in poverty and her burial in an unmarked grave. It is only thanks to A. Walker’s advocacy for Hurston as of the 1970s that she and her oeuvre have been rediscovered (pp. 84–87). And yet her Moses remains arguably her most controversial and complex work. It tells the tale of a Moses who harnesses the power of hoodoo magic in leading the Hebrews from slavery to freedom (pp. 53–57). The reader, though, can never be sure just where Moses fits in. Is he an Israelite or an Egyptian? Like Hurston herself, Moses defies facile categorization. Wright draws attention to the polyvalent contexts of the book, including primarily the African-American experience but also encompassing allusions to events contemporaneous with the book’s genesis in the late 1930s (pp. 67–69). Hurston’s background as an anthropologist comes to the fore in Wright’s discussions of the depictions of religion and of the dialects employed for different ethnic groups and classes in the book (pp. 78–81). Because many if not all of the female characters in the book are depicted negatively, modern feminists have had a distanced relationship to Moses, Man of the Mountain (pp. 70– 78). But Wright argues that Miriam, the most vividly ambivalent woman in the book, may reflect some of Hurston’s bitter understanding of her own tenuous place in society. Wright understands DeMille’s Ten Commandments as a work of cold- war propaganda. She even entitles the relevant chapter “Coming in from the Cold (War).” To some extent, this makes the movie the antithesis of Steffens’ book. Starting with DeMille’s unusual introduction to the movie, in which he delivers a speech to the audience about what they are about to see and the significance of it, the movie contrasts the American love of freedom “under God”24 with the state slavery imposed by godless commu- nism. While the movie draws upon post-biblical traditions for inspiration (from ancient Jewish sources to modern novels), DeMille picks and chooses what aspects to incorporate in formulating his own vision of Moses, oftentimes drawing from specifically Christian formulations in the presentation of his story (pp. 102–104). The story of Moses thus prefigures the political, social, and religious freedoms that the United States represents. Following M.G. Wood, Wright emphasizes the iconic image of Moses at the end of the film, when C. Heston as Moses assumes a pose

24 Indeed, as Wright points out (p. 91), it was only in 1954 that the phrase “under God” was incorporated into the American Pledge of Allegiance. It is interesting to note that – while the movie suppresses the specifically Jewish aspects of the Moses story (see, e. g., pp. 100–101) – a rabbinic understanding of freedom from Egyptian enslavement is perhaps counter-intuitively realized in servitude to God. ‘Noughty’ Moses: A Decade of Moses Scholarship 2000–2010 105 reminiscent of that of the Statue of Liberty (p. 125). Yet in spite of the supposed conservatism of DeMille and his time alike, his film argues for the equality of all human beings, irrespective of ethnic origins.25 The most important general criticism one may express about Wright’s book is her dogged avoidance of “text.” Hence, her discussion is framed solely as one about context, in which the actual text being discussed is of interest only in contrasting particular aspects of the text with the biblical or (occasionally) post-biblical sources of its reimaginings. While this is presumably not a major problem with an iconic film like The Ten Com- mandments that has probably been viewed by most of the people at whom this book is directed, it presents a somewhat greater issue in the case of both Hurston’s Moses, Man of the Mountain (an occasionally disparaged book I consider one of the best literary works based on the narrative of the Hebrew Bible) and Steffen’s Moses in Red (a work of seemingly partisan political analysis that made little impression already at the time it was written). Wright’s book would have been more helpful if she had devoted some space to introducing her readers to the actual contents and outlines of the works discussed, veering a little from her chosen contextual path.

VI. B. Britt‘s Rewriting Moses

To some extent these criticisms are alleviated and addressed in B. Britt’s Rewriting Moses: The Narrative Eclipse of the Text.26 This is also a work of cultural history but it has a broader focus than Wright’s piece, engages more directly with texts in general, and ultimately leads the reader back to the biblical text. The central thesis of Britt’s book revolves around Moses as a written figure in the biblical tradition and as a biographical subject in the post-biblical one. In other words, Moses’ function in the various interpre- tative traditions – whether as the conduit of divine law or as the hero of a tale – is the chief interest for Britt. Thus, he pays equal attention both to the biblical text and to later interpretations of it. The meta-level on which he engages each area falls within the framework of modern literary-critical and cultural-historical discourse. Hence, the names of theoreticians such as Assmann, E. Auerbach, M. Bal, W. Benjamin, J. Derrida, S. Freud, Y.H. Yerushalmi, and others play important roles in the discussion. Nonethe-

25 Although, as Wright indicates, “no nonwhite actors [are] depicted in significant roles” (p. 127). 26 B. Britt, Rewriting Moses: The Narrative Eclipse of the Text (JSOTSup. 402; Gender, Cul- ture, Theory 14; New York: T & T Clark, 2004). 106 Carl S. Ehrlich less, in spite of the theoretical axis around which the book revolves, it ultimately is best understood as a series of loosely related chapters whose unity is provided by the Mosaic discourse in its widest sense. The “Introduction” to the book (pp. 1–11) treats Moses as a figure of historical memory. As Britt points out, there is relatively little biographical information conveyed in the biblical text about Moses, a circumstance that gave the impetus for the development of a wide-ranging post-biblical expansion of the Moses story. Britt divides this expansion into traditions more in line with rabbinic thought, which encompasses the exegesis of the Urtext, and those traditions more influenced by Hellenistic thought, in which the motivation for the development of the tradition is provided by forces external to the text.27 The subsequent eight chapters of the book are divided into two parts linked by an “Interlude.” In “Part I,” which comprises three chapters, Britt engages “Contempo- rary Images of Moses” (pp. 12–80). The first chapter is devoted to “Sub- verting the Great Man: Violence and Magic in Moses Fiction” (pp. 13–39). Britt introduces the subject by providing a list and categorization of thirty- four Moses novels written since the mid-nineteenth century.28 Most of them contribute in various ways to the development of a heroic Moses narrative. Indeed, Britt assigns them to four overarching literary world- views: “Christian, Jewish, Romance/Orientalist, and Humanist/Secularist” (p. 15). After ascertaining that most of these are not great works of literature and that they idealize the figure of Moses, Britt turns his attention to a fifth category of sui generis novels and devotes the rest of this chapter to a discussion of Steffens’ Moses in Red (1926), Hurston’s Moses, Man of the Mountain (1939), and Mann’s Tables of the Law (1943).29 Britt finds that the works by Steffens and Mann subvert the story by “offer[ing] disturbing but compelling images of violent social transformation” (p. 31). Hurston, on the other hand, subverts traditional understandings by locating the story in her contemporary situation, thus allowing a reading of the story on dual levels, as well as by turning Moses into a magician. The second chapter takes up this theme of duality and applies it to a reading of Moses films (pp. 40–58). This duality is exemplified for Britt by

27 In Britt’s words, the former “is more likely to occur within a context guided by reading and interpretation of the biblical text, commentary on words, sentences, and questions of narrative and halakhic meaning,” while the latter “is more likely to operate according to concepts, patterns, and questions external to the biblical text” (p. 7). 28 Without doing a major search, I am aware of at least one work missing from his list: G. Messadie´, Moı¨se (2 vols.; Paris: E´ditions Jean-Claude Latte`s, 1998). 29 Owing to its short length (under sixty pages), this latter work is – pace Britt – more a novella than a novel. ‘Noughty’ Moses: A Decade of Moses Scholarship 2000–2010 107 the “doubling” of Moses in cinematic tradition. Examples of this duality are the splitting of the Moses character between male and female protago- nists (as in 1924’s Moon of Israel and 1998’s Prince of Egypt), and the presentation of antagonists to the role of Moses as the protagonist (as in 1956’s The Ten Commandments, in which Moses has both a female double/antag- onist, Nefretiri, and a male one, Ramses). To some extent this doubling may be deduced from the ambiguity regarding Moses’ ethnic and racial identity in the biblical narrative, a theme that is developed and expanded in the cinematic treatments of his story. The third and last chapter of Part I examines “Legend and History in Modern Scholarly Portraits of Moses” (pp. 59–80). In this chapter, Britt “seeks to demonstrate that modern scholars [engage] in the narrative eclipse of the biblical text by their common commitment to ideas of legend and history and the opposition between them” (p. 61). In order to prove his thesis, Britt discusses the images of Moses and his place in history/legend in the works of J. Wellhausen, H. Gressmann, M. Noth, G. von Rad, and M. Buber. Significantly, all of these were German(-trained) scholars, although Buber as the one Jew among them differs from the rest in his basic presuppositions about the text and its theological import. Nonethe- less, Britt demonstrates that all of these scholars came to somewhat differ- ing views regarding Moses as a figure of history and legend. In a nutshell, while Wellhausen, Gressmann, and Noth were most interested in recovering the earliest layers of tradition, von Rad and Buber were more interested in the theological importance of Moses for the modern reader (in effect, juxtaposing what Moses meant with what Moses means). The “Interlude,” which Britt entitles “Biblical Text, Biblical Tradition,” consists of one chapter that deals with “The Veil of Moses in the Bible and in Christian Art” (pp. 81–115). After analyzing the biblical text, Britt engages in a search for images of the veiled Moses in Christian art, a motif that he discovers is rare, particularly in comparison with the motif of the horned Moses. This he attributes to a number of factors. One is that the veil obscures Moses in his role as prophet. When he wears the veil, he is not privy to revelation. Another is that veiled Synagoga becomes a negative trope in Christian art; hence, there is a general reluctance to depict Moses in this manner, except for the few times he is being used as a symbol for Judaism and the replaced theology of the old covenant. However, this way of presenting Moses is oftentimes avoided in order not to cast as- persions on Moses within the context of a typological reading as a prefigurement of Jesus. In addition, within the context of a patriarchal artistic tradition, the employment of the female Synagoga in order to represent something negative is preferable to the use of the male Moses. 108 Carl S. Ehrlich Part II consists of four chapters, all of which foreground “Uncanny Biblical Texts” (pp. 116–183). In these chapters, Britt does a close reading of what he considers difficult texts in order to elucidate their contribution to the biblical Moses discourse. The first text that Britt considers is the one concerning “Moses’ Heavy Mouth … in Exodus 4.10–17” (pp. 117–130). Contrary to those who see in this text an excerpt of a Moses biography, Britt “argue[s] that revelation, not the person of Moses, is a primary concern of the text” (p. 117). By diminishing the importance of speech in its account of Moses’ commissioning, the text implicitly lays its emphasis on the written word as Moses’ major revelatory action. The second text discussed by Britt is “Deuteronomy 31–32 as a Textual Memorial” (pp. 131– 143). His basic thesis is that there are two strands of tradition interwoven in these chapters: “one on the death of Moses and commission of Joshua, and another on the recording and promulgation of texts” (p. 131), where Torah and Song become inextricably intertwined. The third text complex is Deuteronomy 32–33 (pp. 144–164), consisting mainly of two poetic texts that Britt views as “show[ing] Moses as both a ‘writing being’ and a ‘being written’” (p. 164). In his final chapter Britt concentrates on “The Birth, Death, and Writing of Moses” (pp. 165–18330). Here, he juxtaposes Moses’ birth (Exodus 1–2) and death (Deuteronomy 34) narratives and posits that they actually contribute more to establishing “a written tradition centered on covenant and people rather than the legend or biography of a hero” (p. 165). Since he views these passages as later accretions, they become the progenitors of the post-biblical attempts to provide Moses with a biography. Because Moses begins and ends his story in foreign climes, Britt views him as “the typical hero of the Diasporanovelle” (p. 178), thus drawing a parallel between Moses and Joseph/Esther. Although Britt’s book ends with a short “Conclusion” (pp. 184–187) in which he attempts to draw together his disparate strands, this work – in spite of its most impressive erudition – ultimately reads more as a series of loosely related essays than as a taut book-length essay.

VII. Conclusion

The survey presented here does not do justice to the wealth of literature on the topic of Moses published during the past decade. Among the studies on more specific subjects that have also appeared, one may mention the

30 While this book is generally free of typos, there is a blatant one on p. 170, where Britt . דבע and דבא has confused ‘Noughty’ Moses: A Decade of Moses Scholarship 2000–2010 109 following: L. Feldman’s Philo’s Portrayal of Moses,31 in which the doyen of scholars of Judaism in the Greco-Roman period presents a magisterial and contextually in-depth study of Philo’s De Vita Mosis; F.W. Graf’s Moses Verma¨chtnis,32 in which the author argues for the separation of religious and secular/state law; H. Najman’s Seconding Sinai,33 in which the author claims that the term “rewritten Bible” applies inadequately to the reworking of the Mosaic discourse of late biblical and early post-biblical writings; P. Reid’s Moses’s Staff and Aeneas’s Shield,34 in which the author argues that Moses undergoes a transformation during the course of his story from a hapless stutterer to a teacher and a “man of words;” V. Sasson’s The Birth of Moses and the Buddha,35 in which the author compares the nature of Moses and the Buddha only to conclude that they do not have as much in common as is sometimes claimed; B. Wheeler’s Moses in the Quran,36 in which the author examines the Islamic Moses traditions in both the Quran and medieval Islamic literature and engages with questions concerning the pre-Islamic sources of some of these traditions; and M. Widmer’s Moses, God, and the Dynamics of Intercessory Prayer,37 in which the author presents a close reading and exegesis of Exodus 32–34 and Numbers 13–14 while paying particular attention to Moses’ role as intercessor and putative author of prayers. If there is one thing that becomes evident in this discussion of the works by Otto, Ro¨mer, Bo¨ttrich, Ego, Eißler, Wright, and Britt, it is that Moses remains as fascinating for the modern reader as he has been throughout the ages. Indeed, these works of cultural and tradition history provide evidence not only for the Moses discourse of the past but also for that of the present, which remains as vivid and relevant as it ever has. One

31 L.H. Feldman, Philo’s Portrayal of Moses in the Context of Ancient Judaism (Christianity and Judaism in Antiquity Series 15; Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2007). 32 F.W. Graf, Moses Verma¨chtnis: U¨ ber go¨ttliche und menschliche Gesetze (Mu¨nchen: C.H. Beck, 2006). 33 H. Najman, Seconding Sinai: The Development of Mosaic Discourse in Second Temple Judaism (JSJSup 77; repr. Atlanta: SBL, 2003). 34 P.V. Reid, Moses’s Staff and Aeneas’s Shield: The Way of the Torah Versus Classical Hero- ism (Lanham: University Press of America, 2005). 35 V.R. Sasson, The Birth of Moses and the Buddha: A Paradigm for the Comparative Study of Religions (Hebrew Bible Monographs 9; Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press, 2007). 36 B.M. Wheeler, Moses in the Quran and Islamic Exegesis (Routledge Studies in the Quran; London: Routledge, 2002). 37 M. Widmer, Moses, God, and the Dynamics of Intercessory Prayer (FAT II/8; Tu¨bingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004). 110 Carl S. Ehrlich may, therefore, conclude that Moses will continue to be an object of fascination and investigation for generations to come.

Carl S. Ehrlich Professor of Hebrew Bible York University 4700 Keele Street Toronto, Ontario, M3J 1P3 [email protected] New Projects

Jens Kamlah

Neuere Forschungen zur Archa¨ologie in Su¨dpho¨nizien

Die pho¨nizische Kultur, deren Kerngebiet sich etwa mit dem Territorium des heutigen Libanon deckt, verbreitete sich im 1. Jahrtausend v. Chr. im gesamten Mittelmeerraum. Im Unterschied zu vielen anderen Kulturen des Altertums und der Moderne expandierte sie nicht auf der Grundlage milita¨rischer Eroberungen, sondern vielmehr prima¨r durch den Aufbau und die Pflege merkantiler Kontakte. Von ihren großen Hafensta¨dten aus schufen die Pho¨nizier Handelsverbindungen bis ins westliche Mittelmeer hinein und gru¨ndeten seit dem 10. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Kolonien an wich- tigen Schlu¨sselpositionen z. B. in Zypern, Nordafrika, Sizilien und auf der iberischen Halbinsel. Die Kolonisation ging vornehmlich von Su¨dpho¨nizien aus, also von den großen Hafenmetropolen Tyros und Sidon sowie von ihrem Um- und Hinterland (Abb. 1). Das su¨dliche Pho¨nizien grenzte unmittelbar an das Ko¨nigreich Israel, und die Geschichte Israels/Judas war u. a. dadurch gepra¨gt, dass sich der politische Einfluss der Sta¨dte Tyros und Sidon auf große Teile der Ku¨ste Pala¨stinas erstreckte. Zwischen Su¨dpho¨nizien und Israel/Juda bestanden vielfa¨ltige Beziehungen, vor allem in den Bereichen des Handels sowie der Geistes- und der Religionsgeschichte. Lange Zeit basierten wissenschaftliche Abhandlungen u¨ber den su¨d- pho¨nizischen Raum ausschließlich auf den Altgrabungen von Tyros und Sidon sowie auf den stratigraphischen Grabungen in Sarepta.1 Doch in den vergangenen Jahren hat die archa¨ologische Erforschung Su¨dpho¨niziens bedeutende Fortschritte erzielt.2 Im Folgenden soll ein kurzer U¨ berblick

1 Vgl. die U¨ berblicksdarstellung J.B. Pritchard, Recovering Sarepta, a Phoenician City. Excavations at Sarafand, Lebanon, 1969–1974, by the University Museum of the Univer- sity of Pennsylvania, Princeton: University Press, 1978. 2 Fu¨r Literaturhinweise zu den neueren archa¨ologischen Forschungen im Libanon vgl. die in diesem Beitrag angefu¨hrten Titel. Vgl. ferner die Beitra¨ge im Doppelheft der Zeitschrift NEA 73:2–3 (2010) mit dem Schwerpunkt „Archaeology in Lebanon“. Vgl. auch M. Heinz/W. Vollmer (Hgg.), Libanon. Treffpunkt der Kulturen. Eine archa¨ologische Per- spektive, Berlin: Lit Verlag, 2010.

Abb. 1: Kartenskizze von Su¨dpho¨nizien. u¨ber die relevanten neuen Ausgrabungsprojekte und ihre wichtigsten Er- gebnisse gegeben werden.

I. Tyros

Tyros war eine der bedeutendsten der pho¨nizischen Sta¨dte. Dies spiegelt sich in den zahlreichen antiken Schriftquellen wieder, in denen die Stadt seit dem 14. Jahrhundert v. Chr. sehr ha¨ufig erwa¨hnt wird (z. B. in den Amarna-Briefen: EA 146ff.). Sie war ein wichtiger Ausgangspunkt fu¨r die Ausbreitung der pho¨nizischen Kultur im Mittelmeerraum. Die Stadt un- terhielt enge Kontakte zu den Ko¨nigreichen Juda und Israel (vgl. z. B. 2 Sam 5,11; 1 Ko¨n 5,15–26; 1 Ko¨n 9,26–28). Als benachbarte Metropole ru¨ckte Tyros in das Blickfeld israelitischer Prophetie und wurde zum Ge- Neuere Forschungen zur Archa¨ologie in Su¨dpho¨nizien 115 genstand prophetischer Orakel- und Fremdvo¨lkerspru¨che (Am 1,9–10 und Ez 26,1–28,19).3 Die Stadt befand sich auf einer vor der Ku¨ste gelegenen Insel, die im Norden und im Su¨den je einen Hafen besaß. Erst seit der Eroberung durch Alexander den Großen ist die Insel durch einen Damm mit dem Festland verbunden. Umfangreiche Altgrabungen, die bereits 1830 begannen, haben zahlreiche Relikte und Monumente aus ro¨mischer bis byzantini- scher Zeit sowie die Reste einer von den Kreuzfahrern errichteten Kathe- drale freigelegt. Die betreffenden Ausgrabungsgebiete liegen im Su¨dteil der alten Inselstadt sowie in der o¨stlichen Verla¨ngerung des Dammes auf dem Festland (el-Bass). Hier befinden sich ein Hippodrom aus ro¨mischer Zeit und o¨stlich eines Monumentalbogens (2. Jahrhundert n. Chr.) eine ausge- dehnte Nekropole, die bis in die byzantinische Zeit bestand. Von 1997 bis 2008 fanden im Bereich der Nekropole von el-Bass neue Ausgrabungen statt. Das spanische Projekt unter der Leitung von Maria Eugenia Aubet konnte nachweisen, dass die Anfa¨nge der Nekropole bis weit in die eisenzeitliche Epoche zuru¨ck reichen.4 Sie haben ca. 320 pho¨nizische Bestattungen freigelegt, von denen die a¨ltesten aus dem 9. Jahrhun- dert v. Chr. und die ju¨ngsten vom Ende des 7. Jahrhunderts v. Chr. stammen.5 Die dabei geborgenen Gegensta¨nde ero¨ffnen erstmals wertvolle Ein- blicke in die materielle Kultur und in die Bestattungssitten der pho¨nizischen Metropole Tyros. Die Befunde zeigen, dass es in Tyros wa¨hrend der mittleren Eisenzeit fest gefu¨gte Begra¨bnisriten gab, die mit spezifischen Jenseitsvorstellungen und daraus resultierenden kultischen Handlungen in Verbindung standen. Demnach verbrannten die Tyrer ihre Toten und legten fu¨r Erwachsene

3 Vgl. zuletzt z. B. C. Fischer, Die Fremdvo¨lkerspru¨che bei Amos und Jesaja. Studien zur Eigenart und Intention in AM 1,3–2,3.4f. und JES 13,1–16,14 (BBB 136), Berlin: Philo, 2002, 48–51; und M. Saur, Der Tyroszyklus des Ezechielbuches (BZAW 386), Berlin: de Gruyter, 2008. 4 Vgl. zuletzt M.E. Aubet (Hg.), The Phoenician Cemetery of Tyre Al-Bass. Excavations 1997–1999 (BAAL.HS I), Beirut: Ministe`re de la Culture, 2004; dies., Begra¨bnispraktiken in der eisenzeitlichen Nekropole von Tyros, in: ZDPV 122 (2006), 1–13; dies., The Pho- enician Cemetery of Tyre, in: NEA 73 (2010), 144–155; Nu´n˜ez, F.J./M.E. Aubet, Tyre Al- Bass – Imported Material / Typology and Results, in: A. Maı¨la-Afeiche (Hg.), Intercon- nections in the Eastern Mediterranean. Lebanon in the Bronze and Iron Ages. Procee- dings of the International Symposium Beirut 2008 (BAAL.HS VI), Beirut: Ministe`re de la Culture, 2009, 403–417. 5 Diese a¨ltesten Urnenbestattungen aus el-Bass bilden die zweita¨lteste Phase, welche durch die Grabungen erfasst wurde (Phase 2). Die vorausgehende Phase 1 (10. Jahrhundert) enthielt nur Einzelfunde und keine intakten Bestattungen (vgl. Aubet, Cemetary). 116 Jens Kamlah

Abb. 2: Tyros (el-Bass): Grabinventar der Doppelurnen-Bestattung 12–13 (Eisenzeit II); (nach Aubet, Begra¨bnispraktiken, Abb. 3). und fu¨r Kinder getrennte Friedho¨fe an.6 Die menschlichen Asche-U¨ ber- reste wurden in einer ersten und die u¨brigen Reste des Feuers in einer

6 Die Tatsache, dass fu¨r Erwachsene und Kinder getrennte Friedho¨fe angelegt wurden, zwingt zu einer Neubewertung der sog. Tofets. Es stellt sich die Frage, ob eine Deutung der Tofets als Kinderopferpla¨tze aufzugeben ist zugunsten einer Interpretation der betreffenden Pla¨tze als Friedho¨fe fu¨r Kinder im Kontext der Sitte der Brandurnenbestat- tung, die unter den Pho¨niziern und Puniern weit verbreitet gewesen ist. Vgl. zu Tofet- Neuere Forschungen zur Archa¨ologie in Su¨dpho¨nizien 117 zweiten Urne gesammelt (vgl. Abb. 2 mit dem typischen Inventar einer tyrischen Doppelurnen-Bestattung). Das weitere Begra¨bnisritual bestand darin, dass eine Grube ausgehoben wurde, sich die Trauergemeinde zum Totenmahl versammelte und dass die beiden Asche-Urnen sowie das Ge- schirr des Totenmahls zusammen mit einem O¨ lka¨nnchen sorgsam in der Grabgrube angeordnet wurden. Sodann hat man die Grube mit Brennma- terial ausgefu¨llt und in der Grube einen zweiten Begra¨bnisbrand entzu¨n- det. Danach wurde die Grube zugeschu¨ttet, bedeckt und durch eine Grabstele markiert.7 Abschließend wurde das restliche Geschirr des To- tenmahls u¨ber der Grube zerschmissen. Durch die doppelte Verbrennung nahm das Feuer eine zentrale Stellung in den pho¨nizisch-tyrischen Be- gra¨bnisriten ein, die sich von den Bestattungssitten Israels und Judas und anderer Nachbarregionen markant unterschieden.8 Den Neugrabungen in der Nekropole kommt auch deshalb große Be- deutung zu, weil archa¨ologisch sonst nur sehr wenig u¨ber die eisenzeitlich- pho¨nizische, auf der ehemaligen Insel gelegene Stadt Tyros bekannt ist. Eine dort von Patizia Bikai in den Jahren 1973–1974 durchgefu¨hrte Tief- sondage hat nur in einer sehr begrenzten Fla¨che Befunde der Bronze- und Eisenzeit nachweisen ko¨nnen.

II. Tell el-Burak

Der Ruinenhu¨gel Tell el-Burak liegt ca. 9 km su¨dlich von Sidon direkt an der Ku¨ste. Seit dem Jahr 2001 fu¨hrt ein deutsch-libanesisches Gemein- schaftsprojekt hier Ausgrabungen durch.9 Die Grabungen haben drei

Problematik zuletzt P. Xella, Per un ‘modello interpretativo’ del tofet: il tofet come necro- poli infantile? in: Quaderni di Vicino Oriente 4 (2010), 259–278. 7 Die Grabstelen waren anikonisch gestaltet oder trugen ein (Go¨tter-)Symbol und/oder kurze Inschriften mit den Namen der Verstorbenen; vgl. dazu H. Sader, Iron Age Funer- ary Stelae from Lebanon (CAM 11), Barcelona: Bellaterra, 2005. 8 Vgl. dazu J. Kamlah, Grab und Begra¨bnis in Israel/Juda. Materielle Befunde, Jenseitsvor- stellungen und die Frage des Totenkultes, in: A. Berlejung/B. Janowski (Hgg.), Tod und Jenseits im alten Israel und in seiner Umwelt. Theologische, religionsgeschichtliche, ar- chaölogische und ikonographische Aspekte (FAT 64), Tu¨bingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009, 257–297. 9 Es handelt sich um ein Gemeinschaftsprojekt der American University of Beirut (vertreten durch H. Sader), der Universita¨t Tu¨bingen (vertreten durch J. Kamlah) und der Ori- entabteilung des Deutschen Archaölogischen Instituts (vertreten durch M. van Ess); vgl. U. Finkbeiner/H. Sader, The Tell el-Burak Archaeological Project: A Preliminary Report on the 2001 Season, in: BAAL 5 (2001), 173–194; ders., The Tell el-Burak Archaeological Project. Preliminary Report on the 2002 and 2003 Seasons, in: BAAL 7 (2003), 145–173; 118 Jens Kamlah Siedlungsphasen nachgewiesen (Tabelle 1), von denen hier diejenigen der Eisenzeit II und der Mittelbronzezeit I beschrieben werden sollen. Tabelle 1: Tell el-Burak, Siedlungsgeschichte. Mittelbronzezeit I ~2000–1700 v.Chr. Palast (zum Stadtko¨nigtum Sidon geho¨rend) Phase 1 Errichtung und erste Nutzung des Palastes Phase 2 Partielle Verfu¨llung, Wiederaufbau und weitere Nutzung Eisenzeit II ~700–350 v.Chr. Befestigte Siedlung (zu Sidon geho¨rend) Phase 1 Gru¨ndung der Besiedlung mit Befestigung Phase 2 Fortfu¨hrung der Besiedlung Phase 3 Rudimenta¨re Restbesiedlung ohne Befestigung Spa¨tes Mittelalter/Osmanische Zeit Einzelne Haüser auf der Kuppe des Hu¨gels

1. Tell el-Burak in der Eisenzeit II (ca. 700–350 v. Chr.) Die eisenzeitliche Siedlung auf Tell el-Burak wurde gegen Ende des 8. Jahrhunderts v. Chr. von der nahe gelegenen Metropole Sidon aus gegru¨n- det. Nach ihrer Gru¨ndung bestand sie ohne Unterbrechung bis zur Mitte des 4. Jahrhunderts v. Chr. Vermutlich war sie wa¨hrend der gesamten Dauer ihres Bestehens dem Zentralort Sidon untergeordnet und erfu¨llte bestimmte Funktionen am Rande des Siedlungssystems der Großstadt. Verschiedene Bereiche dieser kleinen, am su¨dlichen Randbezirk Sidons gelegnen Ansiedlung konnten bislang freigelegt werden. So kamen in Areal 3 Wohnha¨user und in den Arealen 2 und 4 Reste einer Umfassungs- mauer zutage (Abb. 3). Zur Siedlung geho¨rte auch ein Friedhof, dessen

ders., Deutsch-libanesische Ausgrabungen auf Tell el-Burak su¨dlich von Sidon. Vorbe- richt nach Abschluß der dritten Kampagne 2003, in: ZDPV 120 (2004), 123–140; ders., The Tell el-Burak Archaeological Project. Preliminary Report on the 2005, 2008 and 2009 Seasons, in: BAAL 12 (2008; erschienen 2010), 17–34; ders., Deutsch-libanesische Aus- grabungen auf Tell el-Burak su¨dlich von Sidon. Vorbericht nach Abschluss der siebten Kampagne 2010, in: ZDPV 126 (2010), 93–115; H. Sader/J. Kamlah, Tell el-Burak. A New Middle Bronze Age Site in Lebanon, in: NEA 73 (2010), 130–141; H. Sader, Tell el-Burak. An Unidentified City of Phoenician Sidon, in: B. Pongratz-Leisten u. a. (Hgg.), Anaˇ sadıˆ Labna¯ni lu¯ allik. Beitra¨ge zu altorientalischen und mittelmeerischen Kulturen. FS W. Ro¨llig (AOAT 247), Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener, 1997, 363–375; ders., Beirut and Tell el-Burak. New Evidence on Phoenician Town Planning and Architecture in the Homeland, in: S. Helas/D. Marzoli (Hgg.), Pho¨nizisches und punisches Sta¨dtewesen. Akten der internationalen Tagung in Rom vom 21. bis 23. Februar 2007 (Iberia Archa- eologica 13), Mainz: Zabern, 2009, 55–67; ders., Palace Architecture in Tell el-Burak-Le- banon: Some Evidence for Egyptian-Mesopotamian-Levantine Interconnections, in: A. Maı¨la-Afeiche (Hg.), Interconnections in the Eastern Mediterranean. Lebanon in the Bronze and Iron Ages. Proceedings of the International Symposium Beirut 2008 (BAAL. HS VI), Beirut: Ministe`re de la Culture, 2009b, 177–185. Die ju¨ngste Kampagne fand vom 12. Juli bis 6. August 2011 statt (Kamlah/Sader, The Tell el-Burak Archaeological Project. Preliminary Report on the 2010 and 2011 Season, in: BAAL 14 [im Druck]). Neuere Forschungen zur Archa¨ologie in Su¨dpho¨nizien 119

Abb. 3: Tell el-Burak: Topographischer Plan mit Resten der Eisenzeit und der Mittelbronze- zeit (nach J. Kamlah / H. Sader, Ausgrabungen ZDPV 126, Abb. 2).

Gra¨ber zwar noch nicht lokalisiert werden konnten, von dem sich aber mehrere pho¨nizische Grabstelen erhalten haben.10 Das Fundinventar der Wohnha¨user setzt sich aus Gebrauchskeramik, Steingera¨ten, Metallwerkzeugen, Tierknochen, verkohlten Pflanzensamen u. a¨. zusammen und bezeugt als Ganzes die la¨ndlichen Lebensverha¨ltnisse im pho¨nizischen Mutterland in der Peripherie einer großen Hafenstadt.11 Angesichts der Tatsache, dass mit Ausnahme der Grabungen von Tell el- Burak so gut wie keine Ausgrabungen von eisenzeitlichen Siedlungen im

10 Die Grabstelen entsprechen denen, die bei den Ausgrabungen der pho¨nizischen Nekro- pole von Tyros gefunden worden sind; vgl. dazu Sader, Funerary Stelae. 11 Zu einem Rollsiegel mit der Darstellung eines Mischwesens am „heiligen Baum“ und einer Jagdszene siehe Kamlah, Sakraler Baum und mythische Jagd. Zur ikonographi- schen Verbindung zweier mythologischer Motive auf einem eisenzeitlichen Rollsiegel aus Pho¨nizien, in: BaM 37 (2007), 549–563. 120 Jens Kamlah

Abb. 4: Tell el-Burak: Planskizze des Palastes (Mittelbronzezeit I) (nach Kamlah/Sader, Aus- grabungen ZDPV 126 [s. hier Anm. 9], Abb. 3).

Herkunftsland der Pho¨nizier stattgefunden haben, stellen diese Befunde eine wesentliche Erweiterung unserer Kenntnisse u¨ber die pho¨nizische Kultur dar.

2. Tell el-Burak in der Mittelbronzezeit I (ca. 2000–1700 v. Chr.) Die Ausgrabungen der Jahre 2001–2011 konnten auf der Kuppe von Tell el-Burak (Areal 1) den Grundriss eines mittelbronzezeitlichen Palastes vollsta¨ndig freilegen (Abb. 4). Das Gebaüde ist 31,5 x 41,6 m groß. Dem Bau liegt eine komplexe Planung zugrunde. Grundeinheit ist ein La¨ngen- maß, bei dem eine Elle ca. 52,5 cm betra¨gt. Das ergibt fu¨r die Ausmaße des Neuere Forschungen zur Archaölogie in Su¨dpho¨nizien 121 Palastes Werte von exakt 60 x 80 Ellen.12 Das Gebaüde umfasst insgesamt 19 Raumeinheiten (Hof 1 und Raüme 2–10). Im Zentrum des Palastes befand sich ein 16,5 x 20,8 m großer Innenhof (Raum 1; 30 x 40 Ellen). Das Fußbodenniveau des Hofes lag bei ca. 17,70 m u¨NN. Um ihn herum grup- pierten sich Raüme mit a¨hnlich hohen Bodenniveaus (Raüme 2–7). Im Unterschied dazu lagen die Bo¨den der Raüme 10–17 urspru¨nglich ca. 5– 6 m tiefer. Der Palast gliederte sich demnach wa¨hrend der 1. Phase in zwei Trakte, die terrassenartig auf zwei Ebenen angelegt waren. Der nordwestliche Trakt (Raüme 10–17) bildete eine zum Meer hin ausgerichtete, tiefere Terrasse. Auf einer ca. 5–6 m ho¨heren Ebene lag der Trakt des zentralen Innenhofes und der ihn umgebenden Raüme. Die Durchgangsraüme 9 und 18 sowie die Treppenraüme 8 und 19 dienten dazu, die tiefer gelegenen Raüme 10–17 mit den ho¨her gelegenen Raümen 1–7 zu verbinden.13 Noch wa¨hrend der Mittelbronzezeit I hat man den großen Ho¨henun- terschied zwischen den beiden Terrassen verringert (Phase 2). Die unteren Stockwerke der Raüme 10–17 sowie diejenigen der Durchgangs- und Treppenraüme (8–9 und 18–19) wurden vollsta¨ndig verfu¨llt und auf einem ho¨heren Niveau wieder aufgebaut. Vor der Verfu¨llung dieser R a¨ ume hat man ihre Tu¨ren mit Lehmziegeln zugesetzt. Nach Ausweis von Keramikfunden und von C14-Analysen stammen beide Bauphasen des Palastes aus der Mittelbronzezeit I (ca. 2000–1700 v. Chr.). Die Ausgrabungen der Jahre 2001–2011 haben nicht nur den Grundriss des Palastes vollsta¨ndig freigelegt, sondern auch seine exzeptionelle Bau- weise ermittelt. Um dem Gebaüde einen erho¨hten Standort verleihen zu ko¨nnen, schufen die Baumeister zuna¨chst einen ku¨nstlichen Berg (an der Basis ca. 115 x 115 m groß; insgesamt ca. 17 m hoch). Die steile Nordflan- ke des Hu¨gels schu¨tzten sie durch ein verputztes Steinglacis. Bereits in einem fru¨hen Stadium dieser Arbeiten wurde im Kern des ku¨nstlichen Berges der Grundriss des Palastes angelegt. Die Baumeister errichteten Fundamentmauern aus luftgetrockneten Lehmziegeln und versta¨rkten die unteren Außenkanten der Fundamentmauern mit Schalenmauern aus Steinen.14 Im weiteren Verlauf des Bauprojekts wuchsen die Fundament-

12 Die Ausgrabungen von Tell el-Burak ermo¨glichen erstmals verla¨ssliche Schlussfolgerun- gen zu den antiken La¨ngenmaßen, die in der Mittelbronzezeit im Su¨dlibanon in Ge- brauch waren. Vgl. dazu Kamlah/Sader, Ausgrabungen ZDPV 126, 101–103. 13 Der Haupteingang in den Palast konnte bislang leider noch nicht lokalisiert werden. 14 Nach Abschluss der Kampagne des Jahres 2010 wurde vermutet, dass alle Fundament- mauern aus Lehmziegeln auf einem Steinpodium ruhen (vgl. dazu Kamlah/Sader, Aus- grabungen ZDPV 126, 98–99 mit Taf. 18 A und 19B). Die Grabungen des Jahres 2011 haben dagegen nachgewiesen, dass die am Fuße der Fundamentmauern erfasste Stein- 122 Jens Kamlah mauern (aus Lehmziegeln) und der ku¨nstliche Berg (aus Erd- und Lehm- schichten) sukzessiv in die Ho¨he und bildeten insgesamt einen monumentalen Unterbau fu¨r den Palast. Im Alten Orient sind auch an anderen mittelbronzezeitlichen Orten imposante Fundamente bezeugt, die aus Grundmauern und Verfu¨llungen in die Ho¨he gebaut wurden, so z. B. in Alalah, Nippur und Larsa. Nirgends jedoch konnten sie bislang in diesen Ausmaßen nachgewiesen werden. Dieser Umstand unterstreicht die Aus- nahmestellung, die der Palast von Tell el-Burak im Kontext des mittelbronzezeitlichen Stadtko¨nigtums von Sidon innegehabt haben muss. Eine ganz außergewo¨hnliche Besonderheit kam im gro¨ßten Raum des Palastes zutage (Raum 10; 28 x 12 Ellen). Hier haben sich Malereien der fru¨hen Mittelbronzezeit in situ an den Innenwa¨nden erhalten. Der gesam- te Raum wurde (wie oben beschrieben) zwischen den Nutzungsphasen 1 und 2 verfu¨llt, was sich als Glu¨cksfall fu¨r die Wandmalereien erwies. Denn die Verfu¨llung hat die aufgehenden Lehmziegelwa¨nde mit den Malereien konserviert. Sie wurden seit dem Jahre 2005 in kleinen Abschnitten von Fachkra¨ften sorgfa¨ltig freigelegt. Auf diese Weise konnte mittlerweile ca. ein Drittel aller Innenwandfla¨chen dokumentiert werden. Die aufgedeckt Fla¨che an der su¨do¨stlichen Innenwand des Raumes ist ca. 8 m lang und ca. 2,5–3,0 m hoch (vgl. Abb. 5 mit einem Ausschnitt aus dieser Fla¨che). Die Wandbemalungen bestehen hier sowohl aus geometrischen Mustern als auch aus figu¨rlichen Motiven. Die geometrischen Muster orientieren sich an der Architektur und dienen der Einfassung und Gliederung des Raumes (z. B. Sockel aus zwei roten Streifen; Tu¨rrahmungen). Daru¨ber hinaus teilt ein geometrischer Fries auf halber Ho¨he die Wand in zwei Re- gister. Die komplexe Gestaltung und die pra¨zise technische Ausfu¨hrung des Ornamentbandes zeugen von der ausgesprochen hohen Qualita¨t der Malereien in Tell el-Burak. Die bisherigen Arbeiten geben drei figu¨rliche Szenen zu erkennen: 1. ein an einem Baum stehendes Tier;15 2. eine Reihe schreitender Men- schen; und 3. eine Tierjagd. Im Folgenden sollen die 2. und die 3. Szene beschrieben werden. 2. Szene: In dem Register unterhalb des Frieses ist eine Reihe von schreitenden Menschen dargestellt. Zwei Ma¨nner konnten zur Ga¨nze freigelegt werden. Sie messen von den schwarzen Haaren, die jeweils an das untere Band des Mittelfrieses stoßen, bis zu den Fu¨ßen ca. 1,5 m und sind

setzung nicht zu einem Podium geho¨rt, sondern zu einer Schalenmauer, mit welcher die unteren Bereiche der Lehmziegel-Fundamentmauern verblendet waren. 15 Vgl. Kamlah/Sader, Ausgrabungen ZDPV 126, 109–111 mit Taf. 22. Die Szene liegt au- ßerhalb des Ausschnittes von Abb. 5 in diesem Beitrag und wird deshalb hier nicht na¨her beschrieben. Neuere Forschungen zur Archa¨ologie in Su¨dpho¨nizien 123

Abb. 5: Tell el-Burak: Wandmalereien (teilweise erga¨nzt) an der su¨do¨stlichen Innenwand von Raum 10 des Palastes (Mittelbronzezeit I); Ausschnitt links der blockierten Tu¨r zu Raum 9 (nach Kamlah/Sader, Ausgrabungen ZDPV 126, Taf. 21). damit die ersten in der Levante entdeckten anna¨hernd lebensgroßen Men- schendarstellungen der Bronzezeit. Der vordere der drei Ma¨nner tra¨gt offensichtlich eine Waffe auf seinem Ru¨cken, vielleicht einen Bogen. Dem- nach ko¨nnte die im unteren Register dargestellte Prozession mo¨glicherweise inhaltlich mit der Jagdszene zusammenha¨ngen, welche das obere Register der Wand ausfu¨llt. 3. Szene: Oberhalb des Frieses ist eine Tierjagd dargestellt. Der Mittel- fries bildet dabei die Lauffla¨che fu¨r einen schwarzen Hund, der eine Herde flu¨chtender Tiere vor sich her treibt. Seine Vorderlaüfe greifen weit nach vorne aus, und aus seiner aufgerissenen Schnauze ha¨ngt eine rote Zunge heraus. Ein rotes Band umschließt seinen Hals. Oberhalb dieses Hundes finden sich Bemalungsreste eines zweiten Tieres gleicher Art, von dem Scha¨del, Zunge, Halsband und Ru¨ckenansatz klar zu erkennen sind. Die rot gezeichneten gejagten Tiere sind als eine Herde von Gazellen zu iden- tifizieren. Sie flu¨chten vor den beiden schwarzen Hunden. Zur linken Seite hin findet die Jagdszene ihren Abschluss in einer zu Boden stu¨rzenden Gazelle sowie in einem Ja¨ger, der sich dem Wild entgegen stellt. Von ihm haben sich nur sein vorgestelltes Bein und sein Oberko¨rper mit beiden Armen erhalten. Im oberen Wandregestier ist also das Motiv der herr- schaftlichen Jagd dargestellt, das im Alten Orient und in A¨ gypten weit 124 Jens Kamlah verbreitet war und das in den Zusammenhang der Herrschaftsrepra¨sentation geho¨rt. Zusammenfassend kann festgehalten werden, dass der Palast von Tell el-Burak zu Beginn des 2. Jahrtausends v. Chr. gebaut wurde und als frei stehendes Gebaüde auf einem ku¨nstlich errichteten Berg in der su¨dlichen Ku¨stenebene Sidons stand. Er muss sich um ein Bauwerk des Stadtko¨nigtums von Sidon handeln. Der Palast erfu¨llte vermutlich mehrere Zwecke. Einerseits diente er wohl der Verwaltung im Bereich in der su¨dlichen Ku¨stenebene Sidons. Mo¨glicherweise hatte er auch eine Funktion fu¨r die Seefahrt. Andererseits sind seine Eckraüme festungsartig wie Tu¨rme gestaltet, so dass das Bauwerk wahrscheinlich auch eine su¨dliche Grenzfes- tung fu¨r das sidonische Herrschaftsgebiet war. Daru¨ber hinaus zeigen die kostbare Ausstattung mit Wandmalereien und die dabei verwendeten Mo- tive aus dem Bereich der Herrschaftsrepra¨sentation, dass das monumentale Bauwerk von den Stadtko¨nigen Sidons zeitweilig auch als Residenz genutzt wurde. Die Wandmalereien des Palastes von Tell el-Burak sind die a¨ltesten großfla¨chigen Malereien an bronzezeitlicher Monumentalarchi- tektur, die bisher in der Levante entdeckt wurden.16 Ihr Stil und ihre Technik bezeugen intensive Kontakte zwischen dem su¨dlichen Libanon und A¨ gypten wa¨hrend der Mittelbronzezeit I. Sie sind Ausdruck der lokalen mittelbronzezeitlichen Kultur, und ihre unerwartete Entdeckung ero¨ffnet neue Mo¨glichkeiten fu¨r die Erforschung der kulturgeschichtlichen Zu- sammenha¨nge zwischen entsprechenden altorientalischen, a¨gyptischen und minoischen/a¨ g a¨ ischen Kunstgattungen.

16 Zum Pha¨nomen der Wandmalerei an bronzezeitlicher Monumentalarchitektur im Vor- deren Orient vgl. z. B. M. Bietak, Bronze Age Paintings in the Levant. Chronological and Cultural Considerations, in: M. Bietak/E. Czerny (Hgg.), The Synchronisation of Civili- sations in the Eastern Mediterranean in the Second Millenium B.C. III. Proceedings of the SCIEM 2000/2nd EuroConference, Vienna, 28th of May–1st of June 2003 (Contribu- tions to the Chronology of the Eastern Mediterranean 9, Denkschriften der Gesamtaka- demie 37), Wien: VO¨ AW, 2007, 269–300; A. Brysbaert, The Power of Technology in the Bronze Age Eastern Mediterranean. The Case of the Painted Plaster (MMA 12), Lon- don/Oakville: Equinox, 2008; M.H. Feldman, Frescoes, Exotica, and the Reinvention of the Northern Levantine Kingdoms during the Second Millennium B.C.E., in: M. Heinz/ ders. (Hgg.), Representations of Political Power. Case Histories from Times of Change and Dissolving Order in the Ancient Near East, Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2007, 173– 194; P. Pfa¨lzner/C. von Ru¨den, Between the Aegean and Syria: The Wall Paintings from the Royal Palace of Qatna, in: D. Bonatz/R.M. Czichon/F.J. Kreppner (Hgg.), Fundstel- len. Gesammelte Schriften zur Archa¨ologie und Geschichte Altvorderasiens ad honorem Hartmut Ku¨hne, Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2008, 95–118. Neuere Forschungen zur Archa¨ologie in Su¨dpho¨nizien 125 III. Sidon

Sidon za¨hlte mit Byblos und Tyros zu den bedeutendsten pho¨nizischen Hafensta¨dten. Wie in Tyros so ist auch in Sidon das antike Stadtgebiet bis heute u¨berbaut und bewohnt. Beru¨hmt sind die seit langem bekannten Fragmente von Kapitellen mit Stierprotomen, die man innerhalb des Stadtgebietes gefunden hat. Sie entsprechen bis ins Detail acha¨menidi- schen Vorbildern aus Persepolis und Susa und ko¨nnten von einem perser- zeitlichen Palast in Sidon stammen. Im Umfeld von Sidon kam es bereits im 19. Jahrhundert zur Freilegung mehrerer Nekropolen aus der zweiten H a¨ lfte des 1. Jahrtausends v. Chr. Die hier entdeckten „pho¨nizisch-anthropoiden“ oder „sidonischen“ Sarkophage zeugen vom Reichtum und von der Bedeutung Sidons wa¨hrend der spa¨ten Eisen-/Perserzeit.17 Aus ju¨ngerer Zeit sind zwei wissenschaftliche Unternehmungen zur Archa¨ologie Sidons zu verzeichnen: erstens die Grabungen innerhalb des Stadtgebietes unter der Leitung von Claude Doumet-Serhal und zweitens die von Rolf A. Stucky durchgefu¨hrten Auswertungen der Altgrabungen in Bustan esˇ-Sˇeh, dem extramuralen Heiligtum des Heilgottes Esˇmun.

1. Die ju¨ngeren Stadtgrabungen von Sidon Seit dem Jahre 1998 gra¨bt ein Team des British Museum unter der Leitung von Claude Doumet-Serhal in einem schmalen unbebauten Streifen am o¨stlichen Rande der Altstadt von Sidon (sogenannte College Site).18 Das Grabungsgebiet liegt damit knapp außerhalb des antiken Stadtgebietes von

17 Zu den anthropoiden Sarkophagen vgl. S. Frede, Die pho¨nizischen anthropoiden Sarko- phage. Teil 1: Fundgruppen und Bestattungskontexte (Band I.1, Forschungen zur pho¨- nizisch-punischen und zyprischen Plastik. Sepulkral- und Votivdenkma¨ler als Zeugnisse kultureller Identita¨ten und Affinita¨ten), Mainz: Zabern, 2000; K. Lembke, Pho¨nizische anthropoide Sarkophage (DF 10), Mainz: Zabern, 2001; S. Frede (Hg.), Die pho¨nizischen anthropoiden Sarkophage. Teil 2: Tradition – Rezeption – Wandel (Band I.2, Forschungen zur pho¨nizisch-punischen und zyprischen Plastik. Sepulkral- und Votiv- denkma¨ler als Zeugnisse kultureller Identita¨ten und Affinita¨ten), Mainz: Zabern, 2002. Ausgangspunkt fu¨r die Entstehung der sidonischen Sarkophagproduktion war die Be- stattung zweier Stadtko¨nige von Sidon (Tabnit und Esˇmunazar II.), deren Sarkophage bedeutende pho¨nizische Inschriften tragen. Zusammen mit Bauinschriften von Ko¨nig Bodasˇtart geben diese Inschriften wichtige Einblicke in das Stadtko¨nigtum Sidons zur Zeit der Esˇmunazar-Dynastie (2. Ha¨lfte des 6. Jahrhunderts v. Chr.). 18 Vgl. zuletzt C. Dourmet-Serhal, Second Millennium BC Levantine Ceremonial Feasts: Sidon a Case Study, in: A. Maı¨la-Afeiche (Hg.), Interconnections in the Eastern Medi- terranean. Lebanon in the Bronze and Iron Ages. Proceedings of the International Sym- posium Beirut 2008 (BAAL.HS VI), Beirut: Ministe`re de la Culture, 2009, 229–244; dies., Tenth, Eleventh, and Twelfth Season of Excavation at Sidon (2008–2010), in: BAAL 13 (2009b), 7–69; dies., Sidon during the Bronze Age: Burials, Rituals and Feas- ting Grounds at the “College Site”, in: NEA 73 (2010), 114–129. 126 Jens Kamlah Sidon. Nur in wenigen Perioden der Stadtgeschichte Sidons dehnte sich die Siedlungsfla¨che so weit nach Osten aus, dass sie bis in das Gebiet des College Site reichte. Zu diesen Perioden za¨hlt erstaunlicher Weise diejenige Epoche, in der auf der syro-pala¨stinischen Landbru¨cke erstmals sta¨dtische Strukturen entstanden: die Fru¨hbronzezeit. Die ju¨ngeren Ausgrabungen im College Site von Sidon haben nachgewiesen, dass die Stadt wa¨hrend der Fru¨hbronzezeit im 3. Jahrtausend v. Chr. eine sehr viel gro¨ßere Ausdeh- nung besaß als wa¨hrend der darauf folgenden Mittel- und Spa¨tbronzezeit.19 Nach dem Ende der Fru¨hbronzezeit reduzierte sich das Stadtgebiet betra¨chtlich. Es nahm fortan lediglich die Fla¨che der heutigen Altstadt von Sidon ein. Dagegen wurde im Gebiet des College Site zu Beginn des 2. Jahrtausends v. Chr. der mittelbronzezeitliche Friedhof Sidons planvoll angelegt. Dazu hat man große Mengen von Sand am nahe gelegenen Strand entnommen, diesen Sand sorgfa¨ltig von allen Verunreinigungen gereinigt und ihn dann auf der gesamten Fla¨che des College Site angeha¨uft, bis er zu einer 1,0–1,5 m dicken Schicht angewachsen war. Die ku¨nstlich angelegte Sandschicht mit dem gereinigten Rand lag extramural o¨stlich des mittelbronzezeitlichen Stadtgebietes von Sidon und diente zur Auf- nahme von Bestattungen. Das Team des British Museum hat bis zum Jahre 2011 mehr als 100 dieser Gra¨ber freigelegt und dabei festgestellt, dass die Bestattungssitten in Sidon beim U¨ bergang von der Mittelbronzezeit I zur Mittelbronzezeit II (ca. 1700 v. Chr.) entscheidende A¨ nderungen erfahren haben. Wa¨hrend in der Mittelbronzezeit I Einzelgra¨ber vorherrschend waren,20 nahmen seit Beginn der Mittelbronzezeit II Mehrfachbestattun- gen stetig zu. Beisetzungen von Kindern in Kru¨gen (im Alter von bis zu 13 Jahren) sind ebenfalls ein Pha¨nomen der Mittelbronzezeit II. Zahlreiche Reste der Zubereitung von Speisen sowie geschlachteter Tiere, die ganz (Mittelbronzezeit I) oder in Teilen (Mittelbronzezeit II) den Toten mit ins Grab gegeben wurden, sind eindeutige Hinweise darauf, dass rituelle Mahlzeiten ein fester Bestandteil der Bestattungssitten gewesen sind. Um 1700 v. Chr. entstand auf dem Gebiet des Friedhofes offensichtlich ein monumentales, ca. 50 m langes Geba¨ude, das von den Aus- gra¨bern als „Tempel zur Abhaltung von Totenmahlzeiten“ gedeutet wird.21

19 Vgl. C. Dourmet-Serhal, The Early Bronze Age in Sidon. “College Site” Excavations (1998–2001) (BAH 178), Beirut: Institut Francais du Proche-Orient, 2006; und zuletzt dies., Sidon during the Bronze Age. 20 Besonders charakteristisch sind Einzelbestattungen in Kistengra¨bern mit Stein- oder Lehmziegelumrandung, in denen sich Waffen und zahlreiche andere Grabbeigaben fanden (sog. Kriegergra¨ber); vgl. zuletzt Doumet-Serhal, Sidon during the Bronze Age, 118. 21 Vgl. z. B. Doumet-Serhal, Sidon during the Bronze Age, 123 mit Fig. 17. Neuere Forschungen zur Archa¨ologie in Su¨dpho¨nizien 127

Abb. 6: Sidon, College Site: Krater mit Bemalung (Mittelbronzezeit); Motiv mit springenden Delphinen (nach Doumet-Serhal, Sidon during the Bronze Age [s. hier Anm. 18], Fig. 16).

Die große Anzahl der insgesamt im Bereich der Nekropole aufgefundenen Grabbeigaben gibt jedenfalls zu erkennen, dass die Mittelbronzezeit in Sidon eine Phase der besonderen Prosperita¨t gewesen ist, die durch rege Kontakte nach A¨ gypten gekennzeichnet war. Aber auch zum a¨ g a¨ ischen Raum bestanden Verbindungen, wie z. B. ein in Sidon gefertigter Krater zeigt, der mit dem a¨ g a¨ ischen Motiv springender Delphine dekoriert war (Abb. 6). In der spa¨ten Bronzezeit (ca. 1550–1200 v. Chr.) scheint das monumentale Geba¨ude, welches die Ausgra¨ber im Zusammenhang mit den Be- stattungssitten deuten, weiter genutzt worden zu sein. In der Na¨he seines Eingangs haben die Ausgra¨ber eine mit Keilschrift beschriftete Tontafel gefunden, auf der eine Inventarliste ho¨lzerner Gegensta¨nde verzeichnet ist.22 Die meisten spa¨tbronzezeitlichen Funde der College Site-Grabungen sind jedoch sekunda¨r verlagert, stammen also aus Abfallschichten, die nach dem Ende der spa¨ten Bronzezeit hier im Außenbereich der Stadt de- poniert wurden.23 Dennoch bietet das Fundgut wertvolle Hinweise auf die Teilhabe Sidons am internationalen Handel dieser Zeit. Dazu za¨hlt eine große Anzahl importierter mykenischer Keramikgefa¨ße.24 Auch aus A¨ gyp-

22 Doumet-Serhal, Sidon during the Bronze Age, 124 mit Fig. 19. 23 Es sei erwa¨hnt, dass an anderer Stelle in Sidon, na¨mlich in dem su¨dlichen Vorort Dak- erman, bei Altgrabungen unter der Leitung von R. Saida ein Friedhof der spa¨ten Bron- zezeit freigelegt wurde. Die Ergebnisse dieser Grabungen sind vor kurzem posthum ver- o¨ffentlicht worden (Saida, Sidon et la Pheńicie me´ridionale au Bronze rećent: a` propos des tombes de Dakerman [BAH 170], Beirut: Institut Francais du Proche-Orient, 2004). 24 Zu mykenischer Importkeramik im Nordlibanon vgl. zuletzt H. Charaf, Arqa and its Regional Connections Redux, in: A. Maı¨la-Afeiche (Hg.), Interconnections in the Ea- 128 Jens Kamlah ten stammen zahlreiche Fundstu¨cke, darunter kostbare Gegensta¨nde und Prestigeobjekte, wie z. B. ein bemaltes Fayencegefa¨ß mit Namenskartu- schen der Pharaonin Tausret (ca. 1190 v. Chr.).25 Auf intensive Handels- kontakt nach Zypern weisen große Mengen von Keramikgefa¨ßen und ei- nige Tonfiguren (Stierfiguren und eine Reiterfigur), die wa¨hrend der spa¨- ten Bronzezeit nach Sidon gelangten. Leider geben die Ausgrabungen im Bereich des College Site nur sehr wenige Ausku¨nfte u¨ber das Ende der spa¨ten Bronzezeit sowie u¨ber die fru¨he und mittlere Eisenzeit. Allerdings konnten wa¨hrend der letzten Kampagne im Sommer 2011 signifikante Befunde zur spa¨ten Eisenzeit freigelegt werden.26 Die Grabungen haben Teile eines monumentalen, aus ma¨chtigen Steinquadern errichteten Gebaüdes erfasst und dabei in einem Bereich, der der Vorratshaltung diente, zahlreiche spa¨teisenzeitliche Am- phoren in situ geborgen. Es zeichnet sich ab, dass in der spa¨ten Eisenzeit und in der persischen Periode in diesem Bereich zumindest teilweise bedeutende sta¨dtische Gebaüde standen. Demnach scheint das College Site- Gebiet erstmals nach dem Ende der Fru¨hbronzezeit wieder mit in die urbane Bebauung einbezogen gewesen zu sein. Allerdings kann der genaue Verlauf der Stadtmauern Sidons leider fu¨r keine der bronze- und eisenzeitlichen Perioden auch nur anna¨hernd bestimmt werden.

2. Die Auswertung der Grabungsbefunde des Esˇmun-Heiligtums von Bustan esˇ-Sˇeh Sicherlich außerhalb der Stadtmauern – aber innerhalb des unmittelbaren Umlandes der Stadt – lag das große Esˇmun-Heiligtum im Norden Sidons. Es befindet sich bei einer Trinkwasserquelle in einem Gela¨nde, das heute den Namen Bustan esˇ-Sˇeh tra¨gt. An dieser Stelle tritt das Nahr el-Auwali durch eine Hu¨gelkette aus dem Libanongebirge heraus und fließt in die Ku¨stenebene no¨rdlich von Sidon (siehe Abb. 1). Verschiedene Untersu- chungen haben zweifelsfrei nachgewiesen, dass die in Bustan esˇ-Sˇeh frei-

stern Mediterranean. Lebanon in the Bronze and Iron Ages. Proceedings of the Interna- tional Symposium Beirut 2008 (BAAL.HS VI), Beirut: Ministe`re de la Culture, 2009, 295–309. 25 C. Doumet-Serhal, Sidon during the Bronze Age, 125 mit Fig. 21a–c. Ein weiteres Fa- yencegefa¨ß mit der Namenskartusche dieser Pharaonin hat man im spa¨tbronzezeitlichen Heiligtum von Tell Deir cAlla im Jordangraben aufgefunden. Zur a¨gyptischen Importke- ramik in Sidon vgl. zuletzt I. Forstner-Mu¨ller/K. Kopetzky, Egypt and Lebanon: New Evidence for Cultural Exchanges in the first half of the 2nd Millenium B.C., in: A. Maı¨la- Afeiche (Hg.), Interconnections in the Eastern Mediterranean. Lebanon in the Bronze and Iron Ages. Proceedings of the International Symposium Beirut 2008 (BAAL.HS VI), Beirut: Ministe`re de la Culture, 2009, 143–157. 26 Ich danke den Ausgra¨berinnen C. Doumet-Serhal und S. Collins fu¨r diese Information. Neuere Forschungen zur Archa¨ologie in Su¨dpho¨nizien 129 gelegten Relikte zu dem in mehreren Ko¨nigsinschriften genannten extramuralen Tempelbezirk des sidonischen Stadt- und Heilgottes Esˇmun geho¨ren. Umfangreiche Ausgrabungen in Bustan esˇ-Sˇeh begannen bereits gegen Ende des 19. Jahrhunderts.27 Sie erbrachten hauptsa¨chlich Befunde der hellenistischen bis byzantinischen Zeit, aber auch solche aus der Zeit vom 6. bis 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr., auf die hier na¨her eingegangen werden soll. Rolf A. Stucky unterzog alle Funde und Befunde einer systematischen Auswertung und hat die Ergebnisse in mehreren Publikationen vorgelegt. Die Analyse der pho¨nizischen Inschriften erfolgte durch Hans-Peter Ma- thys. Der Kern der in Bustan esˇ-Sˇeh freigelegten Kultsta¨tte bestand aus einer Quelle, die am Fuße eines Berges entspringt. Nachdem der Kult hier zu Beginn des 6. Jahrhunderts v. Chr. eingesetzt hatte, wurde die Kultsta¨tte kontinuierlich zu einem großen Tempelbezirk ausgebaut, wobei das Was- ser ihrer Quelle ein wesentliches Element darstellte. Eine Vielzahl von Ka- na¨len und Becken sorgte fu¨r seine Einbeziehung in den Kult.28 Augenfa¨l- ligster Bestandteil des Temenos war jedoch seit der Mitte des 6. Jahrhun- derts v. Chr. ein ma¨chtiges Podium, das sich am Steilhang eines Hu¨gels u¨ber der Quelle erhob. Es glich einem aus Steinen errichteten „heiligen Berg“, der ein Tempelhaus trug. Das urspru¨ngliche Podium, von dem nur noch die Westecke erhalten ist, wurde spa¨ter durch ein noch gro¨ßeres Po- dium aus gewaltigen Steinquadern u¨berbaut (Abb. 7). Aus den Inschriften und den neueren Auswertungen der Ausgrabun- gen gehen die Grundzu¨ge der vorhellenistischen Baugeschichte des Hei- ligtums hervor. Demnach stammt das a¨ltere Podium von Ko¨nig Esˇmuna- zar II. (ca. Mitte des 6. Jahrhunderts v. Chr.) und das ju¨ngere von Bodasˇt-

27 Vgl. die U¨ berblicksdarstellungen R.A. Stucky/H.P. Mathys, Le Sanctuaire Sidonien d’Echmoun. Aperc¸u historique du site, des fouilles et des de´couvertes faites a` Bostan ech-Cheikh, in: BAAL 4 (2000), 123–148; R.A. Stucky, Das Heiligtum des Esˇmun bei Sidon in vorhellenistischer Zeit, in: ZDPV 118 (2002), 66–86. Vgl. ferner die Endbe- richte bei ders., Tribune d’Echmoun. Ein griechischer Reliefzyklus des 4. Jahrhunderts v. Chr. in Sidon (Antike Kunst Beiheft 13), Basel: Vereinigung der Freunde antiker Kunst, 1984; ders., Die Skulpturen aus dem Eschmun-Heiligtum bei Sidon. Griechische, ro¨mische, kyprische und pho¨nizische Statuen und Reliefs vom 6. Jahrhundert v. Chr. bis zum 3. Jahrhundert n. Chr. (Antike Kunst Beiheft 17), Basel: Vereinigung der Freunde antiker Kunst, 1993; ders. (Hg.), Das Eschmun-Heiligtum von Sidon. Architektur und Inschriften (Antike Kunst Beiheft 19), Basel: Vereinigung der Freunde antiker Kunst, 2005. 28 Zu der Quelle und den Wasserinstallationen von Bustan esˇ-Sˇeh siehe E.M.C. Gro- enewoud, Use of Water in Phoenician Sanctuaries, in: ANESt 38 (2001), 139–159, hier 141 und 144 (im Rahmen einer u¨bergreifenden Darstellung der Bedeutung des Wassers an pho¨nizischen Kultsta¨tten). 130 Jens Kamlah

Abb. 7: Sidon, Bustan esˇ-Sˇeh: Extramurales Heiligtum des Gottes Esˇmun; Podium des Bo- dasˇtart (2. Ha¨lfte des 6. Jahrhunderts v. Chr.) mit spa¨terer Tempelarchitektur (Rekonstrukti- on nach Stucky, Eschmun-Heiligtum [s. hier Anm. 27]; Umzeichnung nach Kamlah, Tempel [s. hier Anm. 29], Abb. 5a). art. Typologisch handelt es sich bei dem Esˇmun-Heiligtum der spa¨ten Ei- senzeit und der persischen Zeit um ein extramurales Naturheiligtum, dessen Errichtung, Pflege und Ausbau zu den Aufgaben der sidonischen Stadtko¨nige geho¨rten.29 Fu¨r die Geschichte, Kultur und Religion Sidons wa¨hrend des 6.–4. Jahrhunderts v. Chr. stellen die Funde und Befunde aus Bustan esˇ-Sˇeh in ihrer Neubearbeitung eine archa¨ologische Quelle von unscha¨tzbarem Wert dar.

IV. Zusammenfassung

Die neueren Untersuchungen zur vorhellenistischen Archa¨ologie in Su¨d- pho¨nizien haben wichtige Ergebnisse fu¨r alle Perioden von der fru¨hen Bronze- bis zur spa¨ten Eisenzeit erbracht. Die fru¨he Bronzezeit, fu¨r die bislang nur a¨ußerst spa¨rliche Befunde aus Tyros vorlagen, erweist sich im Lichte der Stadtgrabungen von Sidon als eine Epoche, in der im su¨dlichen Libanon erstmals große Metropolen und eine urbane Kultur entstanden (zu Beginn des 3. Jahrtausends v. Chr.). Sidon gelangte in dieser Zeit sogar zu einer Gro¨ße, die es erst in sehr viel spa¨terer Zeit wieder erreichte. Die Frage, wie sich der U¨ bergang von der Fru¨h- zur Mittelbronzezeit im Su¨d- libanon gestaltete (ca. 2300–2000 v. Chr.), muss derzeit noch offen bleiben.

29 Vgl. J. Kamlah, Die Tempel und Heiligtu¨mer Pho¨niziens. Kultsta¨tten im Kontext der eisenzeitlichen Stadtkultur in der Levante, in: S. Helas/D. Marzoli (Hgg.), Pho¨nizisches und punisches Sta¨dtewesen. Akten der internationalen Tagung in Rom vom 21. bis 23. Februar 2007 (Iberia Archaeologica 13), Mainz: Zabern, 2009, 93–94. Neuere Forschungen zur Archaölogie in Su¨dpho¨nizien 131 Es ist jedoch unwahrscheinlich, dass die Region eine a¨hnlich einschnei- dende Deurbanisierung erlebte wie Pala¨stina, denn bereits unmittelbar zu Beginn der Mittelbronzezeit (ca. 2000 v. Chr.) stand Sidon in voller Blu¨te. Dies dokumentieren die Gra¨ber im Bereich des College Site ebenso wie der monumentale Festungspalast von Tell el-Burak. Das Stadtko¨nigtum von Sidon verfu¨gte bereits in der Mittelbronzezeit I (ca. 2000–1700 v. Chr.) u¨ber große o¨konomische Kapazita¨ten und u¨ber vielfa¨ltige u¨berregionale Kontakte, insbesondere nach A¨ gypten. Trotz einiger feststellbarer Vera¨nderungen (Aufgabe des Palastes von Tell el-Burak; Einfu¨hrung der Mehrfachbestattungen in der College Site- Nekropole) ha¨lt die Blu¨te Sidons unvera¨ndert in der Mittelbronzezeit II (ca. 1700–1550 v. Chr.) an. Unsere Kenntnisse u¨ber die Spa¨tbronzezeit im Su¨dlibanon (ca. 1550–1200 v. Chr.) beruhen vor allem auf den neuen Gra- bungen im Bereich des College Site sowie auf den Ergebnissen der a¨lteren Ausgrabungen in Sarepta und in Sidon Dakerman. Aus diesen Grabungen geht die besonders hohe Intensita¨t der Handelskontakte hervor, die vom Su¨dlibanon aus in dieser Zeit zu vielen Bereichen des Mittelmeerraums bestanden. Die spa¨tbronzezeitliche Hochkonjunktur des Handels ist eine unmittelbare Voraussetzung fu¨r die merkantilen Entwicklungen in pho¨nizischer Zeit. Bedauerlicherweise geho¨rt die Eisenzeit I (ca. 1200–1000 v. Chr.) zu den „dunklen“ Perioden in Su¨dpho¨nizien, so dass die Entwick- lungen von der Spa¨tbronze- zur mittleren Eisenzeit derzeit nicht beschrieben werden ko¨nnen. Im Hinblick auf die Eisenzeit II haben die neueren Forschungen in Su¨dpho¨nizien fu¨r das 10.–8. Jahrhundert v. Chr. ausschließlich Grabbe- funde aus Tyros erbracht. Hier zeigt sich, dass im pho¨nizischen Mutter- land Kremation mit anschließender Beisetzung in Asche-Urnen die regu- la¨re Bestattungsform war, wobei es fu¨r jung verstorbene Kinder separate Friedho¨fe gab. Fu¨r die Zeit vom 7. bis 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. liegen durch die Ausgrabungen auf Tell el-Burak nun erstmals Befunde aus einer befes- tigten Niederlassung vor. Der Ort scheint jedoch keine autonome Siedlung gewesen zu sein. Vielmehr hatte er dem Anschein nach bestimmte Funk- tionen im Siedlungssystem Sidons zu erfu¨llen. Sidon selbst gewann in dieser Zeit an Sta¨rke. Dies ist bereits seit la¨ngerem aufgrund der Analyse schriftlicher Quellen bekannt, hat nun aber durch die neueren Stadtgra- bungen in Sidon sowie durch die Auswertung der Befunde von Bustan esˇ- Sˇeh eindru¨ckliche archaölogische Besta¨tigungen gefunden. In persischer Zeit erweiterte sich das Stadtgebiet Sidons und das extramurale Quellhei- ligtum des sidonischen Stadtgottes Esˇmun erreichte monumentale Aus- maße. In dieser Zeit schloss das Herrschaftsgebiet Sidons auch die Gebiete von Dor und von Jaffa an der Ku¨ste Pala¨stinas mit ein. 132 Jens Kamlah In diachroner Perspektive lassen die neueren Forschungen zur Archaö- logie Su¨dpho¨niziens vier Aspekte hervortreten: 1. Es zeichnet sich fu¨r die Region seit dem Beginn des 3. Jahrtausends v. Chr. ein Siedlungsmuster ab, in dem die großen Hafensta¨dte Zentren bilden30 und kleinere Orte entlang der Ku¨ste zeitweilig bestimmte Funk- tionen im Gefu¨ge der Zentralorte u¨bernahmen.31 2. Monumentale Architektur zur Herrschaftsrepra¨sentation tritt an zwei unterschiedlichen Orten zu unterschiedlichen Zeiten hervor.32 Sie tritt als profan-administrative (Tell el-Burak) oder als sakrale Baukunst (Bustan esˇ-Sˇeh) in Erscheinung. 3. Besonders markante Auspra¨gungen hat die materielle Kultur der Re- gion jeweils im Bereich des Bestattungswesens erfahren.33 Emphatische Totenrituale, unter Einschluss von Totenmahlzeiten, sind augenscheinlich tief in den regionalen Traditionen Su¨dpho¨niziens verankert. 4. Die tragende Rolle des Fernhandels ist das wesentliche Kontinuum der bronze- und eisenzeitlichen Wirtschaftsgeschichte Su¨dpho¨niziens,34 und die daraus resultierenden Akkulturationsprozesse bilden ein unver- kennbares Proprium der pho¨nizischen Kultur dieser Region.

Jens Kamlah Universita¨t T u¨ bingen Liebermeisterstr. 14, Zi. 149 72076 Tu¨bingen [email protected]

30 Sidon und Tyros; seit der spa¨ten Bronzezeit tritt Sarepta zu diesen hinzu. 31 So z. B. Tell el-Burak (in der Mittelbronzezeit I und im 7.–4. Jahrhundert v. Chr.) oder Bustan esˇ-Sˇeh (seit dem 6. Jahrhundert v. Chr.); beide jeweils auf Sidon bezogen. 32 In Tell el-Burak (Mittelbronzezeit I) und in Bustan esˇ-Sˇeh (6. Jahrhundert v. Chr.). 33 Vgl. fu¨r Sidon die Nekropolen des College Site (Mittelbronzezeit) und in Dakerman (Spa¨tbronzezeit), den pho¨nizischen Friedhof von Tyros (Eisenzeit II) sowie die sidonischen anthropoiden Sarkophage (seit dem 6. Jahrhundert v. Chr.). 34 Fu¨r die Fru¨hbronzezeit ist dies bislang nur in Ansa¨tzen zu erkennen (aufgrund der Stadtgrabungen von Sidon). Dagegen haben fu¨r s a¨ mtliche Perioden von der Mittelbron- zezeit I bis zur persischen Zeit alle der hier dargestellten neueren Untersuchungen archa¨ologische Nachweise dieser Schlussfolgerung erbracht. Israel Finkelstein, Shirly Ben Dor Evian, Elisabetta Boaretto, Dan Cabanes, Maria-Teresa Cabanes, Adi Eliyahu-Behar, Shira Faigenbaum, Yuval Gadot, Dafna Langgut, Mario Martin, Meirav Meiri, Dvora Namdar, Lidar Sapir-Hen, Ruth Shahack-Gross, Arie Shaus, Barak Sober, Michael Toffolo, Naama Yahalom-Mack, Lina Zapassky and Steve Weiner

Reconstructing Ancient Israel: Integrating Macro- and Micro-archaeology1

I. Introduction

The study of ancient Israel’s texts and history has been a keystone of Euro- pean scholarship since the Enlightenment. From the beginning of the 19th century, biblical exegesis contributed impressively to our understanding of these topics. Biblical archaeology joined in about a century later and provided critical evidence for the material culture of ancient Israel, shedding new light on its history. Yet, until recent years (and in certain circles up until today) biblical archaeology was dominated by a conservative interpretation of the texts and was not given a true independent role in recon-

1 This study is supported by the European Research Council Advanced Grant n˚ 229418. The project is directed by I. Finkelstein of Tel Aviv University and S. Weiner of the We- izmann Institute of Science. Y. Gadot serves as archaeology director and S. Ben Dor Evian as the administrative director of the project. The different tracks of the project are being carried out by E. Boaretto, A. Fantalkin and M. Toffolo (radiocarbon); R. Shahack- Gross, D. Cabanes, M. Cabanes and D. Friesam (geoarchaeology); M. Meiri, E. Halpern and M. Safra (DNA); E. Kagan, D. Langgut, T. Litt, F. Neumann and M. Stein (palynology); M. Martin (ceramic petrography); A. Eliyahu-Behar, N. Yahalom-Mack and S. Shil- stein (metallurgy); Y. Benenson and E. Zapassky (daily mathematics); S. Faigenbaum, D. Levin, M. Moinester, E. Piasetzky, B. Sass, A. Shaus, B. Sober and E. Turkel (epigraphy); D. Namdar and L. Goldenberg (residue analysis); G. Bar-Oz, L. Sapir-Hen, L. Weissbrod and R. Zukerman (archaeozoology). The work started in February 2009 and should last for five years. The authors wish to thank the following archaeologists for their cooperation in the studies discussed in this article: I. Lemos of Oxford University (Lefkandi), A. Maeir of Bar-Ilan University (Tell es-Safi/Gath), D. Master of Wheaton College and L. Stager of Harvard University (Ashkelon), W. Niemeier of the German Archaeological Institute in Athens (Kalapodi), P. Nahshoni of the Israel Antiquities Authority and Ben Gurion Uni- versity (Patish), D. Ussishkin of Tel Aviv University and E. Cline of George Washington University (Megiddo, together with author I. Finkelstein).

HeBAI 1 (2012), 133–150 ISSN 2192-2276 © 2012 Mohr Siebeck 134 I. Finkelstein et al. structing ancient Israel’s history. In addition, the contribution of conven- tional archaeological research has somewhat diminished, since much of its input is now the accumulation of additional data in well-known fields of this discipline.Textual exegesis, too, can hardly revolutionize the field, as the number of new pieces of evidence (texts found at excavations) is limited. Thus, in view of the above-mentioned limitations of biblical archaeology, the sparsity of available real-time historical records (consisting mainly of Assyrian sources and inscriptions unearthed in excavations), the biblical testimony’s substantial chronological distance from the events that it describes along with the theological agenda not only of its original authors but also of many modern scholars, the task of reconstructing the world of ancient Israel accordingly stands in need of new directions and fresh evidence. Both can be found in dramatic developments in archaeology in recent years. Biblical archaeology, to date, has dealt mainly with the macroscopic evidence, that is, what can be seen by the naked eye – architecture, pottery assemblages and other artifacts, animal bones, settlement patterns etc. A lot of additional information can however be extracted from the micro-archaeological record – the record that is revealed with the help of instru- mentation.2 This includes, for example, the mineralized bodies that plants produce (phytoliths) that provide information on the use of plant materials at a site; pollen, which may shed light on the paleo-environment and subsistence practices in the past; the mineral components of the sediments that may include remnants of ash from wood fires and signs of exposure to elevated temperatures indicating past pyrotechnological practices; the mineral components of ceramics which may determine their place of production and patterns of trade; the organic molecules captured inside ceramics which may determine vessel use; and the study of metal objects for reconstructing ancient production processes. Perhaps one of the most important aspects of the micro-archaeological record is the carbon-14 concentration in organic remains that can provide a reliable absolute chronology for archaeological finds and thus help reconstruct the past.

II. The Project

In our European Research Council (ERC) funded project entitled Ancient (Biblical) Israel: The Exact and Life Sciences Perspective, we use a novel ap-

2 S. Weiner, Microarchaeology: Beyond the Visible Archaeological Record (New York: Cam- bridge University Press, 2010). Reconstructing Ancient Israel 135 proach to integrate the macro and microscopic archaeological records from the Iron Age. The project is organized into ten tracks that were formulated in order to shed light on five main themes related to ancient (biblical) Israel:

1. The time of Ancient Israel: a. Radiocarbon: correlating the chronology of Ancient Israel with neighboring lands, especially the Mediterranean basin, as well as en- hancing the dating of the different phases in the Iron Age and deep- ening understanding of relative chronology based on ceramic typology. 2. The genesis of Ancient Israel: a. Ancient DNA: collected from humans and animals to track origin and movement of ancient populations. b. Geo-archaeology: understanding formation processes, use of space, and tracking subsistence economy practices in Ancient Israel by examining sediments in sites that represent Iron Age towns and vil- lages. c. Palynology: studying cores of sediments from the Dead Sea and Sea of Galilee in order to obtain information on paleoclimate, subsistence practices and settlement oscillations. 3. The life of Ancient Israel: a. Ceramic petrography: reconstructing production and trade patterns in ceramic vessels – the most common type of macro-artifact in the field. b. Metallurgy: tracking technological advances, specifically the shift from bronze to iron, during the Iron I–IIA period. 4. The mind of Ancient Israel: a. Daily mathematics of dimensions: examining pottery vessels to dis- cern, for example, the relationship between units of length and volume for the sake of determining the “mathematical” knowledge of the people of the Iron Age. b. Epigraphy: using advanced computational methodologies in order to study the development of writing in Israel and Judah. 5. The identity of Ancient Israel: a. Residue analysis: of pottery vessels in order to determine the usage of vessels, culinary practices and long-distance trade. b. Archaeo-zoology: studying a large number of assemblages from different sub-phases of the Iron Age in different regions and varied contexts in order to better understand subsistence strategies in the past. 136 I. Finkelstein et al.

Fig. 1: A laboratory in the field – Megiddo 2010.

In most of the ten tracks the investigations are being conducted with special reference to both the diachronic and synchronic dimensions. This is done by comparing finds in one site/region along the chronology scale and comparing a given assemblage to finds from the same period in other regions.

III. The Strategy

An important component of our methodology is the very close integration of the macro- and microscopic archaeological records starting in the field. In other words, we replace the traditional system of an “expert” coming occasionally to the site in order to collect samples with a team of archaeologists and researchers from the exact and life sciences alike, some of whom operate an on-site laboratory. The outcome is a continual sharing of knowledge – from stratigraphy and architecture to the smallest microscopic items. We integrate the traditional excavation methods with the use of an on- site laboratory (Fig. 1) that enables parts of the microscopic record to be revealed in the real time of the excavation, minimizing the loss of information by the use of inappropriate excavation methods and sampling pro- cedures. The work then continues in the laboratory after the excavation, Reconstructing Ancient Israel 137

Fig. 2: A baulk in Area Q at Megiddo, showing Iron IIA sediments, demonstrating the integration of macro- and micro-archaeology data in an attempt to resolve stratigraphic problems. subsequently oscillating between field and laboratory. The end product is a more detailed and better integrated understanding of the archaeological record. The picture in Figure 2, taken in Area Q at Megiddo in the fall of 2010, demonstrates this integrative approach. It shows a baulk with evidence for fire and broken Iron Age vessels, and a much-tilted floor (on the right). This baulk, along with similar ones in the area, posed difficult questions regarding accumulation of sediments, reason for the tilting, the nature of the fire, and the nature and exact date of the ceramic assemblage. A week in the field of the entire team – field archaeologists, geo-archaeologists, radiocarbon specialists and others – helped to decipher many of these questions. Much of the sediment was laid down after a short abandonment of the site. Massive concentrations of phytoliths (mineralized bodies produced in plants) both in the ashy layer and below it indicate that large amounts of organic material accumulated in this area. The subsequent loss of the organic material by degradation may account for the sinking of the floor (Fig. 2 right-hand side). Grain seeds in the storage jar in the ashy th material were radiocarbon dated to the 9 century B.C.E. This integrated 138 I. Finkelstein et al. macro- and microarchaeological perspective reflects the fact that the team was working together in the field throughout the excavation season. The following discussion describes some of the results that we have already obtained (as of June 2011).

IV. Course of Work and Some Results

1. The Time of Ancient Israel The application of the integrative approach described above has revolu- tionized the manner in which radiocarbon dating is used to build an absolute chronological framework. Radiocarbon dating is all about context. In- deed, some recent studies demonstrate how dating samples originating from insecure contexts can lead research astray.3 Therefore, in order to ensure that only samples derived from the most reliable contexts are analysed, a dating project must start with extensive work in the field by the dating experts along with the excavation team. Strict criteria are used to define such solid contexts whose reliability is documented in the field. Ac- cordingly, our project under the directorship of E. Boaretto has abandoned the widespread practice of area supervisors collecting samples for dating and then submitting them for analysis to a radiocarbon laboratory. Dating starts in the field, and the same team then characterizes the quality of the materials to be dated. For the most commonly used materials for dating – charred botanical remains and bones – strict pre-screening criteria has been developed in order to select the best preserved samples. For bones, the major component of interest is the protein collagen, as it is a short- lived dateable material. Bones are pre-screened for the best preserved collagen in the field by using the Fourier Transform Infrared Analysis (FTIR) and the splitting factor of the mineral fraction. The analysis continues in the laboratory, where FTIR is used to characterize the purity of the collagen before the sample is prepared for carbon-14 analysis. The states of preservation of charred short-lived organic materials are assessed by mon- itoring the weight losses that are incurred during sample purification procedure (poorly preserved samples lose more weight). FTIR is used to assess the purity of the charred samples after cleaning, and samples with large

3 E.g., E. Boaretto, “Dating materials in good archaeological contexts: the next challenge for radiocarbon analysis,” Radiocarbon 51 (2009): 275 – 282; A. Fantalkin, I. Finkelstein, and E. Piasetzky, “Iron Age Mediterranean Chronology: A Rejoinder,” Radiocarbon 53 (2011): 1 – 20. Reconstructing Ancient Israel 139 proportions of clay (and its associated carbon) are rejected. The carbon-14 concentrations are determined by accelerator mass spectrometry (AMS). Ancient Israel was closely connected to other regions in the ancient Near East and the eastern Mediterranean basin. Thus, one of the major objectives of this track is to correlate the absolute chronology of the different phases of the Iron Age Levant, which is fairly well documented, with the chronologies of neighboring lands, especially the Aegean basin. The th th relative chronology of Greece from approximately the 11 –9 centuries B. C.E is well known, but the absolute chronology of the Greek Proto-Geo- metric and Geometric layers depends in many ways on the Levant (Greek sherds found in well-dated Levantine layers).4 The problem is that sherds of these periods found in the east are either poorly stratified or potentially residual. In order to address this problem we are using the integrative approach (including the field component) to obtain radiocarbon dates from two Iron Age sites in central Greece, namely Lefkandi and Kalapodi. One objective of the radiocarbon track is to better understand the strengths and weaknesses of relative dating which is based on pottery seri- ation. For instance, we wish to see whether layers carrying similar pottery assemblages in different parts of the Levant indeed date to the same decades. Our project is essentially a follow-up on the study of high resolution absolute chronology of the Iron I/II transition carried out by I. Sharon, A. Gilboa, T.A.J. Jull and Boaretto.5 The resolution of dates in Iron I–IIA demonstrated that two different events that occur within a century could be differentiated. This however requires an extraordinarily large number of samples, mainly due to the noise introduced into the study by samples from poorly defined contexts. We also aim to improve our understanding of the absolute chronology in comparison to the relative ceramic typology by working on sites with dense stratigraphy. Megiddo features about twelve well-distinguished layers with good ceramic assemblages over the approximately six centuries of the Late Bronze IB–Iron IIA time span. We are now radiocarbon dating this sequence and, by doing so, establishing the most detailed radiocarbon framework for a single site in the ancient Near East. These dates are expected to shed light on events related to the history of Ancient Israel. For instance, previous work has already hinted that the destruction of the late- th th Canaanite (late Iron I, late 11 and early 10 centuries B.C.E) cities in the

4 E.g., N. Coldstream, “Some Aegean Reactions to the Chronology Debate in the Southern Levant,” Tel Aviv 30 (2003): 247 – 258. 5 I. Sharon et al., “Report on the First Stage of the Iron Age Dating Project in Israel: Sup- porting a Low Chronology,” Radiocarbon 49 (2007): 1 – 46. 140 I. Finkelstein et al. Jezreel Valley was a gradual process rather than a result of a single event. It th has also indicated that the 9 century B.C.E conflicts between the northern kingdom and Aram Damascus left a series of destruction layers in the northern valleys. These destructions can probably be affiliated with several different events.6

2. The Origin and Identity of Ancient Israel: Pigs, Humans and Genetics The blueprint of life is embedded in the DNA, which is a large and unstable molecule that easily breaks down. Despite the very small amounts of preserved ancient DNA, DNA fragments can often be found in fossil bones, probably because they are protected by the mineral.7 With the development of very powerful molecular biological techniques, even these small semi-degraded fragments can be analysed and the sequences of their components (nucleotides) deciphered. These sequences of nucleotides are in fact the genetic information. The capability of analysing ancient DNA was developed in the late 1980s8 and over the years the methods have become increasingly more powerful. This genetic information can provide fascinating insights into different aspects of past life. In our project directed by M. Meiri, we are addressing two topics using ancient DNA (aDNA): the origin of the pig populations in the Iron Age Levant and the genetic affinities of humans from different areas within the region. Pig bones from the Iron Age exhibit uneven distribution. Their frequency depends on the region where the site is located and on the chronological phase within the period. While they are fairly commonly found in sites affiliated with the Philistines, they are rare or absent in sites in the central hills.9 The absence or presence of pigs has been correlated with en-

6 I. Finkelstein and E. Piasetzky, “Radiocarbon-Dated Destruction Layers: A Skeleton for Iron Age Chronology in the Levant,” Oxford Journal of Archaeology 28 (2009): 255 – 274. 7 M. Salamon et al., “Relatively Well Preserved DNA is Present in the Crystal Aggregates of Fossil Bones,” Proceedings of the National Academy of Science 102 (2005): 13,783 – 13,788. 8 R. Higuchi et al., ”DNA sequences from the quagga, an extinct member of the horse family,” Nature 312 (1984): 282 – 284. 9 B. Hesse, “Pig Lovers and Pig Haters: Patterns of Palestinian Pork Production,” Journal of Ethnobiology 10 (1990): 195 – 225; idem, “ Husbandry, Dietary Taboos and the Bones of the Ancient Near East: Zooarchaeology in the Post-Processual World,” in Methods in the Mediterranean: Historical and Archaeological Views on Texts and Archaeology (ed. D.B. Small; Mnemosyne Sup 135; Leiden: Brill, 1995), 197 – 232. Reconstructing Ancient Israel 141 vironmental, social, political and cultural factors.10 In the current study, archaeozoologist L. Sapir-Hen has noticed an interesting dichotomy in the frequency of pig bones in the Iron II between the lowlands of Israel and the lowlands of Judah, and demonstrated the complexity of factors influ- encing pork consumption. DNA analysis of pig bones will hopefully shed light on the origins of the pig populations: Did the so-called “Sea Peoples” bring pigs with them from the Aegean, for example? Were some or all of the Iron Age pigs domesticated from the wild indigenous populations just as they were elsewhere in Europe and Asia? And what were the cultural boundaries between populations raising pigs and those with no evidence for pig husbandry? The study of preserved DNA in fossil human bones is fraught with the difficulty of contamination by modern human DNA. Thus, extreme precautions need to be taken to minimize this risk. These precautions include carrying out the DNA extraction and analysis in ultra-clean laboratories. Our project has involved the construction of such a laboratory. It is also imperative to work on the best preserved bones, which have the highest likelihood of containing well preserved ancient human DNA that can be reliably differentiated from modern contamination. In order to identify such bones, S. Ben Dor Evian and M. Cabanes have pre-screened many fossil animal bones for the presence of the preserved protein in bone called collagen, which is much easier to identify than DNA. The rationale is that, because proteins are also unstable, well preserved collagen suggests a greater likelihood for well preserved DNA. This correlation between collagen and DNA preservation has been noted in human bones from the Chalcolithic period in the Levant.11 Work on this track has only recently started and therefore it will take some time until we can hope to get first results.

3. Iron Age Settlement Patterns and the Environment: Palynology The highlands of Canaan, the hub of Ancient Israel, feature sharp settlement oscillations in the Bronze and Iron Ages. For instance, in the area between the Jezreel and Beer-sheba Valleys the number of sites grew to ca. 250 in the Middle Bronze, dropped to ca. 30 in the Late Bronze, and then grew again to ca. 250 in the Iron I. Taking into consideration the steppe nature of the eastern and southern parts of this region, these oscil-

10 E. g., Hesse, “Pig Lovers” (see n. 9); M.A. Zedar, “The Role of Pigs in Near Eastern Sub- sistence: A View from the Southern Levant,” in Retrieving the Past (ed. J.D. Seger; Wi- nona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1996), 297 – 312. 11 Salamon et al., “Relatively” (see n. 7). 142 I. Finkelstein et al.

Fig. 3: The Nahal Zeelim gully. The pollen record in the sediments reveals the vegetation history of the Judean highlands in the last five millennia. lations could have resulted from small climatic changes. The oscillations may also reflect changes in human behavior, such as subsistence practices influenced by economic and social factors rather than climate factors. A powerful tool that can shed light on these settlement oscillations is the pollen record in the sediments of the Dead Sea and the Sea of Galilee. These basins are repositories of pollen transported from the highlands by both wind and wadi streams. The pollen records can provide information on the relative quantities of the major vegetation types in the highlands in antiquity and this in turn can reflect both climatic- and human-induced changes. The palynologist D. Langgut is working on sediment cores from the Sea of Galilee and (together with Frank Neumann) the sediments from the narrow gully of Nahal Zeelim, formed near the shore of the Dead Sea as a result of the recent drop in sea level (Fig. 3). The sedimentary sequence exposed in the gulley is now thick-enough to reveal the pollen record of the last five millennia. In the Sea of Galilee, members of our team T. Litt from the University of Bonn and M. Stein from the Hebrew University drilled a core from the center of the lake. In order to shed light on minute and rapid changes in the vegetation of the highlands, the pollen samples are analysed at a resolution of ca. 20 years – a resolution not yet attempted in our region. Reconstructing Ancient Israel 143 Preliminary results from the sediments of the Zeelim gully indeed show clear oscillations in the pollen record during the Late Bronze and Iron Ages. In general, fluctuations in the Mediterranean vegetation curve point to climate changes while fluctuations in the olive pollen curve represent changes in the highlands olive horticulture activity. Tree clearing and pas- ture activities are also evident from the Dead Sea pollen spectrum. In order to achieve a proper interpretation we need reliable dates along each core. Accordingly, we are now engaged in a rigorous radiocarbon dating project, including directly dating the pollen itself – a challenging task because of the relatively low pollen concentrations characterizing our research area.

4. Domestic Lifestyles in Ancient Israel The integrated macroscopic and microscopic archaeological records can reveal different aspects of past lifestyles. Under the directorship of R. Sha- hack-Gross, we deploy several analytical tools for this purpose. For understanding different uses of space we use phosphate and phytolith concentrations as tracers for locations where organic materials had been deposited in the past (livestock enclosures, dumps, toilets, storage). We use minerals to reconstruct domestic pyrotechnological practices (i. e., cook- ing, destruction by fire) and to study fuel sources within macroscopic remains of ovens and kilns.12 For information on diet and economic practices we use detailed morphotype phytolith analysis, and bones from animals that were eaten (work of L. Sapir-Hen). The key to integrating the macro- and micro-archaeological records in this sub-track is the study of thin sections of embedded sediments using mainly the petrographic mi- croscope. This so-called micro-morphological approach provides information on the in situ spatial relations of sediment components as deposited, shedding light on, for example, primary deposition processes by humans versus transport and reworking of sediment components by natural agents such as wind and water.13 The difficulty in reconstructing lifestyles relates to abandonment processes. In the normal course of village or town life, houses are not abandoned and then left untouched. Secondary use of abandoned structures is widespread, and thus the artifact distribution pattern most likely to be found when excavated will reflect this secondary use. One way of over-

12 R. Shahack-Gross, “Approaches to Understanding Formation of Archaeological Sites in Israel: Materials and Processes,” Israel Journal of Earth Sciences 56 (2007): 73 – 86. 13 M.A. Courty et al., Soils and Micromorphology in Archaeology (Cambridge Manu- als in Archaeology; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989). 144 I. Finkelstein et al. coming this complication is by working on destruction levels. However, it must also be taken into consideration that during catastrophic events such as destructions, the macro- and to a lesser extent the micro-artifacts may more likely reflect the special needs of the moment (preparation for a siege or for a battle), rather than ”normal” daily lifestyles. Another way to overcome this complication is by studying in detail the processes taking place in abandoned structures.14 Siliceous plant phytoliths are invaluable for reconstructing past lifestyles, as they can be used to determine the ways in which plants were used for food, construction, fodder, bedding, matting and more.15 D. Cabanes has critically examined evidence showing that, under certain circumstances, phytoliths can dissolve and/or be abraded. Such taphonomic processes can lead to incorrect interpretations of the phytolith record, especially when determining the ratios between straw and spiklets that originated from cereals.16 This is critical for evaluation of agricultural and herding practices. We are now testing these hypotheses by field studies at the rural Iron Age site of Izbet Sartah. As phytolith distributions can be very helpful in planning the optimal excavation strategy, we developed a rapid method for determining phytolith concentrations whereby some 10 to 20 samples can be processed within 4 – 6 hours (i. e., from one day to the next).17 Our work at Izbet Sartah also demonstrates the potential of using phytolith concentration in order to delineate the boundaries of a site, including the surrounding work areas where architectural remains are absent. We have applied many of these methods to analyse in detail an area at Tel es-Safi/Gath that was buried by the events that destroyed the site in the th 18 late 9 century B.C.E. We could show that following the actual destruction, erosional processes continued for decades and eventually left an accumulation of destruction debris nearly one meter thick.19

14 D. Friesem et al., “Degradation of Mud Brick Houses in an Arid Environment: A Geo- archaeological Model,” Journal of Archaeological Science 38 (2011): 1,135 – 1,147. 15 D.R. Piperno, Phytoliths. A Comprehensive Guide for Archaeologists and Paleoecologists (Lanham: AltaMira Press, 2006). 16 D. Cabanes, S.Weiner and R. Shahack-Gross, “Stability of Phytoliths in the Archaeologi- cal Record: A Dissolution Study of Modern and Fossil Phytoliths,” Journal of Archaeo- logical Science (forthcoming). 17 O. Katz et al., “Rapid Phytolith Extraction for Analysis of Phytolith Concentrations and Assemblages During an Excavation: An Application at Tell es-Safi/Gath, Israel,” Journal of Archaeological Science 37 (2010): 1,557 – 1,563. 18 A.M. Maeir, “The Historical Background and Dating of Amos VI 2: An Archaeological Perspective from Tell es-Safi/Gath,” VT 54 (2004): 319 – 334. 19 D. Namdar et al., “The 9th Century B.C.E Destruction Layer at Tell es-Safi/Gath, Israel: Integrating Macro- and Microarchaeology” (forthcoming). Reconstructing Ancient Israel 145

Fig. 4: The Negev Highlands site of Atar Haroa. Extraction of a block with sediments from the floor.

An interesting example of how micro-archaeology may reflect on broad historical questions is provided by studies carried out in Iron IIA Negev Highlands sites by R. Shahack-Gross (geo-archaeology), Boaretto (radiocarbon) and M. Martin (petrography of pottery vessels). These sites (Fig. 4) were described in the past as “Israelite fortresses” from the time of King Solomon that were destroyed in the course of the Sheshonq I campaign to Canaan in the second half of the 10th century.20 Other studies proposed sedentarization processes of local pastoral nomads who practiced mixed pastoral activity and seasonal dry-farming.21 Our sediment investigation in one of these sites indicates that the inhabitants’ subsistence economy was based on animal husbandry, with no evidence for seasonal dry-farming.22 Radiocarbon dating of short-lived samples from two sites

20 E.g., R. Cohen, “The Iron Age Fortresses in the Central Negev,” BASOR 236 (1979): 63 – 75. 21 I. Finkelstein, Living on the Fringe: The Archaeology and History of the Negev, Sinai and Neighbouring Regions in the Bronze and Iron Ages (Monographs in Mediterranean Ar- chaeology 6; Sheffield: Academic Press, 1995). 22 R. Shahack-Gross and I. Finkelstein, “Subsistence Practices in an Arid Environment: A Geoarchaeological Investigation in an Iron Age Site, the Negev Highlands, Israel,” Jour- nal of Archaeological Science 35 (2008): 965 – 982. 146 I. Finkelstein et al. show that they were inhabited between the second half of the 10th century and relatively late into the 9th century,23 rejecting both the notion that they can be associated with a mid-10th century northern polity and the idea that they were destroyed in the late 10th century. Mineralogical observations by Martin show that a certain number of both wheel and hand-made vessels from these sites were produced in the Araba Valley at sites connected with copper production. This seems to indicate that the inhabitants of the Negev Highlands sites were in contact with the large-scale copper production centers at Feinan.24 Hence, in this case, micro-archaeology revolu- tionized what we know about the Negev Highlands sites – their nature and time as well as their inhabitants’ subsistence strategies. The transformation of raw materials into useful synthetic materials (pyrotechnology) produces some of the most durable components of the archaeological record, such as ceramics and plaster. A most interesting product of pyrotechnology found at Tell es-Safi/Gath from the late Iron I is hydraulic plaster.25 In addition to the normal calcite component of lime plaster, hydraulic plaster contains a silicate-based additive that polymerizes and contributes to the hardening process. Thus, this type of plaster can harden under water and is therefore called hydraulic plaster. Although it is best known from the Roman period, there have been reports of hydraulic plaster from as early as the Neolithic Age. The problem is proving that the silicate component of the plaster was added deliberately and not by acci- dental mixing. In the study of two overlying floors at Tell es-Safi/Gath, we showed that both were composed of hydraulic plaster and that the silicate phase was deliberately added, judging from the fact that both floors are of identical composition and contain silicate minerals obtained from outside the local area. It is of particular interest to note that there are reports that hydraulic plaster was used prior to this time in the Aegean,26 raising the

23 For one of the sites see E. Boaretto, I. Finkelstein and R. Shahack-Gross, “Radiocarbon Results from the Iron IIA Site of Atar Haroa in the Negev Highlands and their Archae- ological and Historical Implications,” Radiocarbon 52 (2010): 1 – 12. 24 And possibly also Timna; for more on these sites see T. Levy et al., “Reassessing the Chronology of Biblical Edom: New Excavations and 14C Dates from Khirbet en-Nahas (Jordan),” Antiquity 78 (2004): 865 – 879; idem et al., “High-Precision Radiocarbon Dating and Historical Biblical Archaeology in Southern Jordan,” Proceedings of the Na- tional Academy of Sciences 105 (2008): 16,460 – 16,465; E. Ben-Yosef et al., “The Begin- ning of Iron Age Copper Production in the Southern Levant: New Evidence from Khir- bat al-Jariya, Faynan, Jordan,” Antiquity 84 (2010): 724 – 746. 25 L. Regev et al., “Iron Age hydraulic plaster from Tell es-Safi/Gath, Israel,” Journal of Ar- chaeological Science 37 (2010): 3,000 – 3,009. 26 A. Brysbaert, The Power of Technology in the Bronze Age Eastern Mediterranean: The Case of Painted Plaster (Monographs in Mediterranean Archaeology 12; London: Equi- nox Publication, 2008). Reconstructing Ancient Israel 147 interesting possibility that this skill was brought from that region to the Levant by the Sea Peoples. Based on the findings of metal artifacts, during the early period of the Iron Age, bronze was still the most commonly produced metal in the Le- vant.27 Very little, however, is known about the modes of production of bronze and iron and about the pace of transition from one metal to the other. N. Yahalom-Mack and A. Eliyahu-Behar’s detailed excavation of a small Iron IIA (9th century B.C.E) area from a stratum at Tell es-Safi/Gath revealed the remains of a metal “workshop” that essentially comprised a few macroscopic metal associated artifacts (mainly a crucible, a few tuye`re fragments and a piece of slag) and a fairly rich microscopic record. The microscopic data showed that bronze and iron alike were produced at the site, based on the analysis of a lined pit and another depression containing iron hammerscales.28 The fact that so few macroscopic artifacts were found probably explains why such workshops could easily have been overlooked in other, more traditional excavations.

5. Ritual Practices in Ancient Israel Information on ritual practices is most often derived from the macroscopic record, mainly in the form of architecture (temples, shrines, alters, etc.) and ceramic objects whose style might suggest some form of ritual practice. One such ceramic object is the so-called “chalice” – a bowl on a high leg-shaped base. Chalices are often found in ritual architectural contexts as well as in domestic contexts, which casts some doubt on their use as ritual objects. D. Namdar’s analysis of the small lipid (fat) molecules preserved in voids inside the ceramic of chalices from an Iron IIA repository pit at the site of Yavneh in Philistia showed that many of the samples contained molecules that could produce fragrances and, in some cases, hallucinogen- ic effects – properties consistent with the use of chalices in a ritual context.29 Similar molecules were found by our team in chalices from two other contemporary sites in Philistia.30

27 Recently Y. Gottlieb, “The Advent of the Age of Iron in the Land of Israel: A Review and Reassessment,” Tel Aviv 37 (2010): 89 – 110. 28 A. Eliyahu-Behar et al., “Iron and Bronze Production in Iron Age IIA Philistia: New Evidence from Tell es-Safi/Gath, Israel,” Journal of Archaeological Science (forthcoming). 29 D. Namdar, R. Neumann and S. Weiner, “Residue analysis of chalices from the repository pit,” in Yavneh I. The Excavation of the “Temple Hill” (ed. R. Kletter, I. Ziffer, and W. Zwickel; OBO Series Archaeologica 30; Fribourg: Academic Press, 2010), 167 – 173; D. Namdar et al., “Hallucination-Causing Compounds in Votive Objects from an Iron Age Philistine Repository Pit, Israel,” Antiquity (forthcoming). 30 Y. Gadot et al., “Chalices in Iron Age Philistia: Production, Function and Content” (forthcoming). 148 I. Finkelstein et al. The analysis of these ceramic derived lipid molecules (known as “residue analysis”) is proving to be an important source of information in the Levant not only for identifying ritual practices, but also for deducing vessels’ contents and from this information shedding light on topics such as foodways and trade. We are pursuing both of these questions. In a detailed study of one area at Tell es-Safi/Gath we observed that there was a clear-cut correlation between the absence of lipids in ceramic fragments and associated sediments exposed to elevated temperatures. The latter determination was based on the alteration of the clays in the sediments in which the fragments were buried. We thus demonstrated that residue analysis studies should also begin in the field with a detailed study of the contexts in which the ceramics are found.31

6. The Mind of Ancient Israel and its Neighbors Can modern research shed light on intellectual abilities of Iron Age Lev- antine people, such as mathematical capability? One way to address this is to use pottery vessels in order to evaluate the ability of people to carry out elaborate measurement in estimating the volumes of valuable commodi- ties. Most pottery vessels, including those that served for trade, do not have a simple shape, e. g., cube, sphere or cylinder, and therefore estimating their volume requires a sophisticated knowledge, at least on the practical level (i. e., without awareness of complicated mathematical formulae). An interesting example is the “torpedo”-shaped storage jar of the Iron th IIB in the 8 century B.C.E. Torpedo jars have a cylindrical body, a pointed base and a right-angle rim. Petrographic analysis shows that they were produced in sites along the Phoenician coast.32 Two shipwrecks with hun- dreds of “torpedo” storage jars were found in deep waters in the south- eastern Mediterranean Sea off the coast of Ashkelon. A robot removed 22 of the vessels for further investigation.33 The cargo found in the two shipwrecks seems to consist of a single loading “event,” a single port of origin, a single commodity and possibly a single production center. I. Benenson, L. Zapassky and Y. Gadot measured these jars as well as other “torpedo” jars from land sites in Israel. The results show that the jars from the ship- wreck constitute a special sub-type and evince a high level of standardiza-

31 Namdar et al., “The 9th Century” (see n. 19). 32 C.A. Aznar, Exchange Networks in the Southern Levant during the Iron Age II: A Study of Pottery Origin and Distribution (Ph.D. thesis; Cambridge: Harvard University, 2005), 66 – 68, 157 – 160. 33 R.D. Ballard et al., “Iron Age Shipwrecks in Deep Water off Ashkelon, Israel,” AJA 106 (2002): 151 – 168. Reconstructing Ancient Israel 149 tion. Since the jars were produced in Phoenicia, where Egyptian culture had been greatly influential since proto-historical times, and since they were made for Egyptian customers,34 we analysed their dimensions in Egyptian units. We noted a link between the units of length and volume: the height of the cylindrical part of the jar is close to one Egyptian royal cubit (52.3 centimeters). In the case that the circumference of the jar is one cubit and two palms, the volume is four Egyptian hekats (19.2 liters). This interesting relation between units of length and volume in storage jars built for maritime trade does not hold for the inland Judahite royal storage jars of the lmlk type, which were produced with a different system of measurements in mind. Another strong connection to the intellect of Ancient Israel is the development of the Hebrew script. Scholars proposed a clear line of development for the ancient Hebrew letters according to the study of inscriptions (mainly ostraca).35 These studies depend on the production of facsimiles and are therefore influenced by the subjective eye (and mind) of the scholar. A. Shaus, B. Sober and S. Faigenbaum – with the help of a team of physicists, chemists and mathematicians – aim to overcome this difficulty. Our first objective was to produce an automated facsimile of an ostracon. Attempts to do this using a laser that causes emission of a light signal from the surface of the ostracon (Raman spectroscopy) showed that the ink signal differs from that of the ceramic. Thus, the ink distribution can be mapped. However, the method is not practical due to the considerable amount of time required to produce a single facsimile. Spectral imaging of ostraca was also attempted using visual color and infrared wavelengths, in order to determine which wavelengths are optimum for improving the legibility of ostraca. Images taken around the optimum wavelength (in the region 500 – 800 nm) provide significantly improved readability compared to the usual color images of ostraca. The team also developed a facsimile quality evaluation method which enables different facsimiles to be compared for the same ostracon, allowing objective identification of the best facsimile.36 The next and most important phase in this track will be the deployment of computerized methods in order to compare letters in dif-

34 L.E. Stager, “Phoenician Shipwrecks in the Deep Sea,” in Sea Routes: Interconnections in the Mediterranean 16th–6th c. BC (ed. N. Stampolidis and V. Karageorghis; Athens: University of Crete and the A. G. Leventis Foundation, 2003), 233 – 247. 35 E. g., J. Naveh, Early History of the Alphabet: An Introduction to West Semitic Epigraphy and Palaeography (Jerusalem: Magness Press, 1987). 36 A. Shaus, I. Finkelstein, and E. Piasetzky, ”Avoiding the Eye of the Beholder: Automated Ostraca Facsimile Evaluation” (forthcoming). 150 I. Finkelstein et al. ferent ostraca and corpora of ostraca. This will be the ultimate test of the elaborate theories regarding the development of Hebrew letters.

V. Concluding Comment

This large and diverse project is already producing interesting results that shed light on ancient (biblical) Israel. The hallmarks of this project involve our development of new analytical techniques and approaches to many different problems, our integration of field work with laboratory work including laboratory work in the field, and our focus on an approximately 600 year period that was undoubtedly a fascinating time in the Levant. Al- though the project is just half way along, we expect to produce new insights into the archaeology of this period and illuminate problems related to the history of ancient Israel. We also anticipate developing new methods and approaches that can be applied to many other periods and regions throughout the world.

Israel Finkelstein Professor of Archeology Tel Aviv University Tel Aviv, Israel 69978 [email protected]