INTRODUCTION:
Maimonides (1135-1204) writes
that if he had access to ancient historical works, he would have had a much
better understanding of the laws and institutions in the Torah. He refers, in
particular to the writings of the ancient Sabians:
“I…say that
the meaning of many of the laws became clear to me and their causes became
known to me through my study of the doctrines, opinions, practices…of the
Sabians.”[1]
However, writing over eight
hundred years ago, Maimonides expresses dismay that these works were largely
lost to history:
“[T]hey
have been out of practice and entirely extinct since two thousand years. If we
knew all the particulars of the Sabean worship, and were informed of all the
details of those doctrines, we would clearly see the reason and wisdom of every
detail in the sacrificial service, in the laws concerning things that are
unclean, and in other laws….”[2]
The fact of the matter is that only
since the time of Napoleon, have these types of writings, known as the
traditions of the Ancient Near East, been discovered and analysed. We now know
more about the practices of the Ancient Near East than ever before.
This article, based extensively
on the writing of Rabbi Professor Joshua Berman[3],
deals with an interpretation of Torah based on an understanding of the writing style
of the Ancient Near East of which we now know much about. Rabbi Lord Jonathan
Sacks has described Berman as “one of the most original biblical scholars of
our time.”[4]
NOTE: Ralbag writes in his
commentary on Exodus, that “the prophet expresses himself through the
conventions of the times”. We also know that the “Torah speaks in the
language of man”. This being the case, let us now actually, emphatically
and ardently explore this “convention” and “language” of man, in
the most historical and literal sense possible. This attempt at reading the Torah
in the “language of man” must be well understood at the outset, as some
Readers may find this a ‘de-spiritualising’ of the Torah text, but that’s exactly
what happens when one reads the Torah through the “conventions of the times”.
Others, on the other hand, may find some these ideas as positive in terms of establishing
and perhaps regaining intellectual and spiritual trust in difficult sections of
Torah text.
THE PROBLEM:
The Torah contains many repetitions
of the same event. These can be found, starting at the beginning with two
creation narratives in Genesis, right through to the Book of Deuteronomy in
particular, where - in what Berman (2020:77) describes as in a “serial and wholesale
fashion” - it has different versions of much of the preceding Torah
narratives. For example, did Moshe appoint judges before the giving of the
Torah (Exodus) or after (Deuteronomy)? Did Moshe appoint the judges (Exodus) or
did the people (Deuteronomy)? Who said that the land was good, Calev and
Yehoshua (Numbers) or all the spies (Deuteronomy)? Was Moshe not allowed to
enter the land because he hit the rock (Numbers) or because he was punished
together with all the people for the sin of the spies (Deuteronomy)?
ATTEMPTS AT RESOLUTION:
a) Rabbinic
For the most part, our rabbis
attempted to resolve these differences by creating some form of harmonisation
between these and other conflicting accounts. Thus, regarding the matter of who
decided to send the spies, God or perhaps Moshe (Numbers 13:2), or the people
themselves (Deuteronomy 1:22)? – Rashi suggests that both are true
because Moshe gave in to the people’s demand to send spies. Sometimes these
reconciliations work better than other times, but oftentimes no attempt at
reconciliation is even attempted.
b) Academic
On the other hand, the academic
world sees these discrepancies as indications that some later form of editing
took place and various hypothesised accounts were woven together during the
Persian or Second Temple period by returning exiles with different political
agendas. This is known as source-critical methodology.
c) Reading in a cultural
context
Berman (2020:82) admits that the rabbinic
approach of harmonisation does not always deal satisfactorily with serious
contradictions, and he also critiques the source-critical approach
because no other ancient culture responds to disruptive events in their history
by creating a tapestry of their written past. There are also no records of any
of these alleged disparate biblical sources which an editor may later have
worked with. He therefore suggests (2020:123) that this a case of a theory that
creates the text, instead of the text giving rise to the theory.
Berman therefore suggest that we
deal with the problems of the conflictory Torah accounts by reading them within
the cultural context of its times.
THE NATURE OF A COVENANT OR
“BRIT”:
The biblical covenant between G-d
and Israel is unlike any other contract we are familiar with. In modern times,
generally, both parties freely enter into a contract and no one is coerced into
so doing. Israel, although it declared “we will do and obey” at Sinai,
doesn’t seem to have had much choice in the matter. This does seem to be a very
different type of contract to the one we are used to.
VASSAL TREATIES:
Berman (2020:87) explains that
only one type of covenant matches the Sinai covenant, where it is “bilateral
but fundamentally between non-equals” and that is the typical political
covenant that was frequently entered into during the second millennium BCE.
These were known as the Vassal Treaties between powerful and lesser kings and
were common around the eastern Mediterranean rim. Berman is not the first to
note these similarities as they have been discussed in scholarly literature for
more than sixty years.[5]
The Israelites would have been
familiar with those Vassal Treaties and the style would have well resonated
with them on a simple literary level.
HISTORICAL PROLOGUE:
Evidence shows that most Vassal
Treaties begin with what Berman terms a “historical prologue” which
describes the events leading up to the treaty and setting out the necessity for
such a contract. They often describe in elaborate terms how the greater king
redeemed the lesser king either by sending supplies during a famine or by
providing military assistance during a war. The lesser king acknowledges his earlier
appeal for support during the crisis, and the greater king reminds him that
salvation comes with conditions. Now that all is well, it becomes time to
submit to the stipulations and conditions of the new contractual relationship.
This is exactly mirrored at
Sinai. The account of the Sinai covenant in Exodus 19-24 is preceded by the historical
prologue of the deliverance from slavery. The standard formula used in
these Vassal Treaties began with:
“These are the words of … [the
name of the greater king is inserted]”, followed immediately by the details
of the act of deliverance.
In the opening of the Ten
Commandments, we find a similar style: “G-d spoke these words, saying ‘I
am the L-rd you G-d who brought you out of the land of Egypt, the house of
bondage.’”[6]
The covenant with Israel is not
with the universal G-d who created the heavens and the earth, but with the G-d
who delivered the nation - or better the “kingdom” of Israel, a “mamlechet Cohanim”,
the kingdom of priests (Exodus 19:6) - from servitude. This opening verse of
the Ten Commandments is clearly unnecessary after the story has already been
going on for nineteen chapters, but it becomes necessary when we view it as a
separate contract or covenant known as a “brit”.
The convergence between the Ten
Commandments and Vassal Treaties becomes even more apparent when we see Israel
beseeching the Sovereign King to save them. This point is made earlier on in
the narrative (Exodus 2:23) and its record becomes a binding mechanism between
the subservient nation and the Redeemer. Just like the Vassal Treaties make the
point that the process was initiated by the weaker king, who once saved,
becomes obliged to keep the stipulations of the greater king.
A LIST OF STIPULATIONS:
When the initial formalities have
been dispensed with in historical prologues to the Vassal Treaties, a list of
binding stipulations follows, which serve to secure the loyalty expected from
the lesser king. The ancient Vassal Treaty between Suppiluliuma and Aziru, for
example, warns:
“If you
seek the well-being of another [king] … thereby you will break the oath”[7]
We similarly find in the Ten
Commandments:
“You shall
have no other gods before Me.”[8]
The audience at that time, would
have well understood both the style and structure of the Ten Commandments as it
indeed had spoken “in the language of man”. The modern reader
would not pick this subtlety up without understanding the style of the Vassal
Treaties, and would simply read it saying the other gods were false. But
this is more than an observation of the falsehood of other gods, it is demand
for reciprocity in loyalty for deliverance in the past and a reminder
that breaking this injunction is tantamount to religious treason.
THE DEMAND FOR REGULAR
APPEARANCES BEFORE THE SOVREIGN KING:
In the Vassal Treaties there is
often a demand for the lesser king to appear before the greater king at regular
intervals. One treaty demands the lesser king appear before: “…His Majesty
and look upon the face of His Majesty.”
The Torah also calls upon the Israelites
to appear before the face of Sovereign G-d:
“Three
times a year shall all your males appear before the face of the Master, the L-rd
G-d of Israel.”[9]
This too would have readily been
understood as acceptable to an audience at that time that knew the “language
of man”.
The Vassal Treaties contained the
stipulation of a mandatory periodic public reading of the treaty to the people.
The treaty between Mursili II of Hatti and Kupanta-Kurunta of Mira-Kuwaliya
reads:
“[This
tablet which] I have made [for you], shall be read out [before you three times
yearly].”[10]
The Torah tell us:
“[Moshe]
took the Book of the Covenant and read it in earshot of the people…”[11]
And:
“When all
Israel comes to appear before the L-rd your G-d, in the place that He will
choose, you shall read this Torah before Israel, in their ears.”[12]
SAFE KEEPING OF THE TREATY:
The Vassal Treaties usually had
to be held within the temple of the subordinate’s deity. This demonstrated the
respect the lesser king had for the greater king. With Israel, the Treaty was
held in the Sanctuary and Temple which housed the Aron haBrit or Ark of
the Covenant.
THE REQUIREMENT TO REPLACE A
DAMAGED TREATY:
One of the requirements of the
Vassal Treaty culture was that if a treaty was damaged or lost, it had to be
immediately replaced. We see that with Moshe, after the tablets were broken, a
new set had to replace the old ones.
WITNESSES:
The Vassal Treaties called for
the agreement to be witnessed, usually by the gods of the ancient world, and to
exact punishment if the terms and conditions of the treaty were not met. One
Vassal Treaty reads:
“The
mountains, the rivers, the springs, the great sea, heaven and earth, the winds
and the clouds. They shall be witness to this treaty and this oath… [I]f [name
of vassal king] does not observe these words of the treaty and oath, but
transgress the oath, then these oath gods shall destroy [name of vassal king].”[13]
Deuteronomy contains similar
expressions:
“I appoint
heaven and earth this day to bear witness against you that you will surely
perish quickly from the land… you shall not have lengthy days upon it, for you
will be destroyed.”[14]
G-D DEPICTED AS A ‘KING’:
Berman (2020:95) writes how the
Torah uses a familiar motif as a means of pedagogy:
“[T]he
Torah uses this model to help concretize for Israel what it means to be in a
relationship with God, using a model that was readily familiar throughout the
region at that time. We have always known that the Torah portrayed God as a
sovereign, a king, The vassal treaty literature allows us greater definition in
our understanding of God as king…”
CONFLICTORY TELLING OF EVENTS
AS A FORM OF DIPLOMATIC SIGNALING:
Berman uses this Vassal Treaty
idea, as a backdrop to try explain the larger question we started with, namely,
how do we understand the conflictory accounts of major events, scattered
through the Torah?
The main difference between
Vassal Treaties and contemporary contracts today (besides the obvious
differences such as the types of witnesses etc.), is the historical prologue,
mentioned earlier. Nowadays, countries seek strategic alliances as a matter of
course, but that was not always the case. It was first, during the second
millennium BCE - our very period of
interest - that states started seeing alliances as a worthwhile political endeavour.
During this time there were two
main regional powers, the Hittites based in the north in what is today modern
Turkey, and the Egyptians. These became the two main sovereign powers and
smaller city-states throughout the Levant (Israel, Lebanon and Syria) would be
the vassals. The Hittites were not aggressive in that they generally tried to
make peaceful agreements with those under their dominion. The smaller
city-states would sometimes play the Egyptians against the Hittites and vice
versa. Alliances, in this sense were therefore fragile and needed to be
nurtured. This political game-playing is borne out by as collection of over
three hundred letters from vassals to the king of Egypt in the fourteenth
century BCE, known as the El Amarna Letters.
Berman (2020:96-7) explains that
when the scribes who drew up these Vassal Treaties wrote the required
historical prologues to the agreements; they were not doing so in the interests
of history. The notion of history, then, was very different from the scientific
discipline it is today. They were politicians, not historians, and they were
participating in diplomatic signalling. A tone of diplomacy had to be
set in order to proceed with negotiations and a final agreement. To this end,
certain aspects of their past association had to be emphasised or possibly even
negated. Usually, the treaties were drawn up the powerful king and he would
sometimes vacillate between being generous and openly intimidating. These historical
prologues set the tone for, and put the political spin on, the future
agreements.
When circumstances changed or
when a vassal king died, a new treaty was established. Evidence points to the
fact that often the historical prologues changed to reflect different political
interests. It would show how the new vassal king’s father, or predecessor, came
to establish the relationship in the first place. In one instance, there is a
record of the original treaty between the Hittite king and a city-state called
Amurru (Emori?), followed by three renewals of that treaty. In each successive
case, the ‘facts’ of their ‘history’ changed. As a rule, the historical
prologues are never the same with renewed Vassal Treaties, and sometime they
are irreconcilable and contradictory. The treaty was about the message
not the facts of the past. Archaeological evidence shows that old
treaties were preserved even after new ones were drawn up, and it is clearly
evident, therefore, that the historical prologues were not meant as an accurate
history, but as a means of political signalling. And, importantly, this was
understood by both sides at the outset. This was the style in which Vassal
Treaties were made at that time and, interestingly, there is no record of the
historicity being questioned or challenged even when the parties concerned knew
of a different set of facts.
READING THE TORAH IN THE
“LANGUAGE OF MAN”:
Berman (2020:102) then suggests
that this is way we need to view some of the stories in the Torah that appear
to retell events differently, particularly in the book of Deuteronomy. We need
to read them in the way people would have read then in earlier times, in their
cultural perspective, and not through the critical lens of our modern culture.
Berman (2020:105-6) throws in one
final argument to buttress his support of the Vassal Treaty approach
over both the competing histories approach (source criticism) and
the classic rabbinic approach of harmonisation of diverse accounts:
Ramses II commissioned his Kadesh
poem to commemorate the Battle of Kadesh. Across Egypt, Ramses got his workers
to carve three accounts of the battle. The three accounts of the battle are
also irreconcilable with each other and contradictory when viewed from a modern
historical perspective. Yet each has something unique to offer. One represents
Ramses’ gratefulness to his god Amun. The second represents his own valour in
battle. And the third represents the bravery of his chariot brigade. Instead of
three different accounts, where either Amun, Ramses himself, or his special chariot
brigade was solely responsible for the victory, these were the three lessons
Ramses intended to convey to his people even though they appear to contradict
each other when taken out of context. Ramses was telling his people that all
three components worked together to secure the victory.
On this view, Deuteronomy, also
known as mishneh Torah, or a retelling of the Torah, should be viewed as
G-d, the Sovereign King, renewing the covenant/treaty with the rebellious
vassal nation of Israelites. Deuteronomy follows the same pattern as the Vassal
Treaties with the historical prologue (chapters 1-11), the list of
stipulations, or mitzvot (chapters 12-26), and the witnesses and curses
if the treaty is not honoured, following at the end. Old stories are retold in
another perspective with a new agenda. This is not meant as rewriting of history
and was never understood on that basis. The changes were not in the history
which everyone knew anyway, but rather in the subtleties of a renewed
relationship with renewed emphases. Initially, with the first Treaty at Sinai, there
was hope that all would be good, but forty years in the wilderness had strained
the relationship. There was now a need for a renewal of the Treaty and therefore
a new historical prologue in a generally more critical tone to that found in
earlier accounts. This reflected the needs of the moment in a way that everyone
present would have immediately and contextually understood - because “the
Torah speaks in the language of man” and “the prophet expresses himself
through the conventions of the times”.
[1] Maimonides, Guide of the Perplexed, 3:29.
Translation by S. Pines (1963).
[2] Maimonides, Guide for the Perplexed,
3:49. Translation by M. Friedländer (1903).
[3]
Berman, J., 2020, Ani Maamin: Biblical Criticism, Historical Truth, and the
Thirteen Principles of Faith, Maggid Books.
[4]
From the blurb of Berman’s book.
[5]
Berman, J., 2008, Created Equal: How the Bible Broke with Ancient Political
Thought, Oxford University Press, New York.
[6]
Exodus 20:1-2.
[7]
Singer, I., 1997, ‘The Treaties Between Hatti and Amurru’, in The Context of
Scripture II: Monumental Inscriptions from the Biblical World, Hallo, W.W.
(ed.), Brill, Netherlands, Leiden, 95.
[8]
Exodus 20:2, Deuteronomy 5:6.
[9]
Exodus 34:23.
[10]
See Beckman, Hittite Diplomatic Texts, 81.
[11]
Exodus 24:7.
[12]
Deuteronomy 31:11.
[13]
See Beckman, Hittite Diplomatic Texts, 58.
[14]
Deuteronomy 4:26. See also 30:19 and 32:1.
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