THE LOST EMPIRE
“In Search of King David’s Lost Empire” is the title
of a piece penned by journalist Ruth Margalit for The New Yorker.
Although it was written
two years ago the article is still relevant, perhaps more so today. “The Biblical ruler’s story has been told
for millennia, but archaeologists
are still fighting over whether it’s true. The evidence of David’s life is sparse. Was he an emperor? A local king? Or,
as Israel Finkelstein claims, a Bedouin sheikh?” ”Jerusalem, in the tenth century B.C., is
an inhospitable place for farmers but a strategic location for men on the run.
Human settlement in the Judean highlands is thinly dispersed: five thousand people, spread out in
hamlets of about fifty families each. The landscape is rugged, veined with ravines
and thicketed with oaks. Rain is unpredictable. To the east lies the desert,
hushed and empty. To the west—teasingly close—are the lush lowlands of the
Philistine city-states, with their seaside trade routes and their princely
homes. Cut off from these coastal plains, life in the hill country is severe.
Homes are made of unworked stone; sheep and goats are quartered indoors. There
are no public buildings, no ornate furnishings in the shrines. Bands of
fugitives, landless labourers, and tax evaders rove the Judean wilderness.
These rebel gangs—viewed by the neighbouring Egyptians as both a nuisance and a
threat—maraud the nearby villages. They collect protection money and pillage
the locals, making off with their women and their cattle. They terrorise the
Philistines, and then, in a sudden turnaround, offer their services to a
Philistine king in exchange for shelter.
Their leader is a wily, resourceful man
from Bethlehem, who decides that his people are meant for more than lightning
raids and mercenary stints. He sends his men to rout an advancing force, then
shares the loot with the highland elders. This wins over the highlanders, and,
in time, they make him chieftain of the southern hill area. He takes over the
tribal centre of Hebron, and later captures Jerusalem, another hilltop
stronghold. The chieftain moves his extended family to the main homes of the
Jerusalem village, and settles in one himself—a palace, some might call it,
though there is nothing extravagant about it. He rules over a neglected
chiefdom of pastoralists and outlaws. His name is David.
Israel Finkelstein’s vision of King
David—the vagabond, the racketeer—helped make his career as an eminent biblical archaeologist.”
The biblical
landscape described by Professor Finkelstein is stark, inhospitable, ostensibly
unlike the biblical narrative, but based on “facts on the ground.” Ms. Margalit’s
description mirrors the narrative told by Israel Finkelstein.
“The Bible, of course, tells it
differently.” Says Ruth Margalit. “In the Old Testament story, Canaan is
where the Hebrews ended their exodus, and where David secured for his people a
glorious kingdom. From about 1,000 B.C., he and his son Solomon ruled over a
vast monarchy that encompassed four defeated kingdoms, stretching as far north
as the Euphrates River and as far south as the Negev Desert. (Archaeologists
derive the date from an inscription on a portal gate in the Egyptian city of
Karnak, which lists the military conquests of King Shoshenq—thought to be the
same king mentioned in the Bible as Shishak.) The United Monarchy, as it is
known, represented the golden age of ancient Israel; though it probably lasted
no more than a generation or two, its legacy has persisted for thousands of
years. According to Finkelstein, for Jews David ‘represents territorial sovereignty, the
legend of the empire.’ For Christians, he is ‘directly related to Jesus and the birth
of Christianity.’ “For Muslims, he is a righteous prophet
who preceded Muhammad. The story of David,” Finkelstein added, “is the most central
thing in the Bible, and in our culture.”
“Nadav Na’aman, an authority on Jewish
history and a colleague of Finkelstein’s at Tel Aviv University, describes
David’s story as ‘extraordinary
fiction.’ But he
believes that it contains kernels of truth, preserved as the tale was passed
down by oral tradition.
In the long war over how to reconcile
the Bible with historical fact, the story of David stands at ground zero. There
is no archaeological record of Abraham, or Isaac, or Jacob. There is no Noah’s
Ark, nothing from Moses. Joshua did not bring down the walls of Jericho: they
collapsed centuries earlier, perhaps in an earthquake. But, in 1993, an Israeli
archaeologist working near the Syrian border found a fragment of basalt from
the ninth century B.C., with an Aramaic inscription that mentioned the “House
of David”—the first known reference to one of the Bible’s foundational figures.
So, David is not just a central ancestor in the Old Testament. He may also be
the only one that we can prove existed. Yet to prove it definitively would be
exceptionally difficult; Jerusalem of the tenth century B.C. is an archaeological
void. ‘I can
take a shoebox and put inside everything we have from that period,’ said Yuval Gadot, an archaeologist from Tel
Aviv University.
“Finkelstein has pushed Israeli research
to the forefront of science, employing precision radiocarbon dating, DNA
analysis, and image processing that can examine a three-thousand-year-old
potsherd and determine how many ancient scribes were involved in its making. An
archaeology lab run by Tel Aviv University and the Weizmann Institute of
Science has employed the chief forensic investigator of the Israel Police. Despite
their advanced technology, these researchers are still engaged in questions
that have persisted for more than a century. From where did the early
Israelites emerge? When do we first see signs of a centralised cult with a
single deity? More prosaically, but no less crucially, who was David? Was he
the all-powerful king described in the Bible? Or was he, as some archaeologists
believe, no more than a small-time Bedouin sheikh? (Nomad).
“Whenever Finkelstein visited the United
States, with its heavy influence of religious seminaries, he was met with
antagonism.” Ruth Margalit said. “At a
conference in San Francisco, a member of the audience pleaded with him, ‘Why are you saying these
things?’ The
highly regarded Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research began
rejecting his papers but continued to publish his detractors. In hindsight,
Finkelstein told me in his office, he understands the uproar over the United
Monarchy. ‘The
description is of a glorious kingdom, a huge empire, authors in the king’s
court, a huge army, military conquests—and then someone like me comes along and
says, ‘Wait a minute. They were nothing but hillbillies who sat in Jerusalem in
a small territory, and the rest of it is either theology or ideology,’ ”
Finkelstein said. “So, someone for whom the Bible represents the word of God
views what I have to say with complete shock.”
For decades, Israeli archaeology
mirrored the country’s politics: it reconstructed the story of an unlikely
conquest and a spectacular military expansion. Finkelstein opened up the
discipline to larger questions of how peoples move and states form.
This truncated account
doesn’t do justice to Ruth Margalit’s exhaustive, well written article. It
serves as a preamble for the search for post-biblical lost Jewish kingdoms. If
you have nothing better to do, try accessing her article with this link https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/06/29/in-search-of-king-davids-lost-empire
Let’s begin with the Samaritans who trace their origin to the
northern Israelite tribes who were not deported by
the Neo-Assyrian Empire after the destruction of the Kingdom of
Israel. They believe that Samaritanism is the true religion of the ancient
Israelites, preserved by those who remained in Israel during
the Babylonian captivity; this belief is held in opposition to Judaism,
the ethnic religion of the Jewish people, which Samaritans see as a closely
related but altered and amended religion brought back by Judeans returning
from Babylonian captivity. Samaritans consider Mount Gerizim (near
both Nablus), and not the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, to be
the holiest place on Earth.
Once a large community, the Samaritan population shrunk
significantly in the wake of the bloody suppression of the Samaritan
Revolts against the Byzantine Empire (mainly in 525 CE and 555
CE). Mass conversions to Christianity under the Byzantines, and later
to Islam following the Arab conquest of the Levant, also reduced
their numbers greatly. In the 12th century, the Jewish traveller Benjamin
of Tudela estimated that only around 1,900 Samaritans remained in the
regions of Palestine and Syria.
As of 2022, the total Samaritan population stands at less than
1,000 people. The Samaritan community is divided between Kiryat Luza on
Mount Gerizim and the Samaritan compound in Holon. Males outnumber females in this divided small community;
hence its survival now depends to a large degree on imported brides from the
Ukraine. An innovative solution adopted a few years ago, that brings to mind the
era of the mail-order brides in the U.S. The newcomers are obliged to convert
to the Samaritan religion. If the project succeeds it will be doubly beneficial,
increasing the sect’s population and gene pool.
The Samaritans are better known to the
wider public through the “parable of the Good Samaritan” related in the Gospel
of Luke.
The Karaites, a post-biblical breakaway community isn’t really relevant to the search for lost Jewish
kingdoms. They remain an almost irrelevant offshoot of Judaism.
On the other hand, the rise and fall of a late antique Jewish kingdom along the Red Sea
in the Arabian Peninsula is
definitely relevant.
According to Professor Glen Warren Bowersock, historian of ancient
Greece, Rome and the Near East, and Chairman of Harvard’s classics department. “Friends
and colleagues alike have reacted with amazement and disbelief when I have told
them about the history I have been looking at. In the southwestern part
of Arabia known in antiquity as Himyar and corresponding today
approximately with Yemen, the local population converted
to Judaism at some point in the late fourth century, and by about 425
a Jewish kingdom had already taken shape. For just over a century after that,
its kings ruled, with one brief interruption, over a religious state that was
explicitly dedicated to the observance of Judaism and the persecution of its
Christian population. The record survived over many centuries in Arabic
historical writings, as well as in Greek and Syriac accounts of martyred
Christians, but incredulous scholars had long been inclined to see little more
than a local monotheism overlaid with language and features borrowed from Jews
who had settled in the area. It is only within recent decades that enough
inscribed stones have turned up to prove definitively the veracity of these
surprising accounts. We can now say that an entire nation of ethnic Arabs in
southwestern Arabia had converted to Judaism and imposed it as the state
religion.
This bizarre but militant kingdom in Himyar was eventually
overthrown by an invasion of forces from Christian Ethiopia, across the Red
Sea. They set sail from East Africa, where they were joined by reinforcements
from the Christian emperor in Constantinople. In the territory of Himyar, they
engaged and destroyed the armies of the Jewish king and finally brought an end
to what was arguably the most improbable, yet portentous, upheaval in the history
of pre-Islamic Arabia. Few scholars, apart from specialists in ancient South
Arabia or early Christian Ethiopia, have been aware of these events. A vigorous
team led by Christian Julien Robin in Paris has pioneered research on the
Jewish kingdom in Himyar.
Through Christian and Muslim rule, Jews continued to be a strong
presence in the Arabian Peninsula. This is clear not only from Mohammed’s
(often conflictual) dealings with them but also from the influence that
Judaism had on the new religion’s rituals and prohibitions (daily prayers, circumcision,
ritual purity, pilgrimage, charity, ban on images and eating pork).
In Yemen, the heartland of the Himyarites, the Jewish community
endured through centuries of persecution, until 1949-1950, when almost all its
remaining members – around 50,000 – were airlifted to Israel in Operation Magic
Carpet. And while they maintain some unique rituals and traditions, which set
them apart from Ashkenazi and Sephardi Jews, no one would doubt that they are
indeed, the last, very much Jewish descendants of the lost kingdom of Himyar.
With the rise of Islam in the seventh century, Arab tribes sought
to conquer North Africa and continue to Europe via Spain. The major obstacle to
a conquest of the Maghreb was the presence of a Berber queen in the mountains
of present-day Algeria. Her tribe, the Gerawa, had converted to Judaism earlier
in the century; their queen, Dahia al-Kahena, either converted with them or was
Jewish by birth.
This era signalled the end of the Byzantine dynasty in a
geographical area that was home to Byzantines, Arabs and Jews, as well as
Christian Berbers.
Kahena was a formidable warrior commanding a strong army. Hassan
ibn Ne’uman, an Arab Egyptian prince, successfully defeated the Byzantines in
Carthage in 687 and set forth to meet her in battle; she defeated him decisively. Hassan returned to Egypt, where he awaited reinforcements for
about five years. Finally, Hassan assembled an army large enough army to confront and defeat
the Berber queen.
The story of the Jewish Berber queen is filled with fact and
fiction; lack of contemporary sources makes it difficult to decide how much of the narrative is fact. There are contradictions in different versions of her life and battles. Her age and the duration of her rule are uncertain, although the
shortest rule attributed to her is 35 years.
Yet even after peeling away the romanticization, certain facts
remain undisputed and are supported by a Judeo-Arabic poem written by local
Jews damning her for having created such devastation for her own people. Her
success as a warrior stood her in good stead until she chose a self-defeating
means of withstanding a second attack by a strengthened Arab army. Her poor
judgment led to her own destruction and that of Byzantine North Africa. The
defeat that she suffered cleared the way for the Arab conquest of Spain in 711,
the only country in Western Europe to experience Islamic rule.
The quest for a long-lost Jewish empire
leads to the Khazars a semi-nomadic Turkic people. In the late 7th century AD the Khazars established a major commercial empire covering
the south-eastern section of modern European Russia, southern Ukraine, Crimea, and Kazakhstan. They created what for its duration was
the most powerful polity to
emerge from the break-up of the Western Turkic Khaganate. Along
a major artery of commerce between Eastern Europe and South-western Asia, Khazaria became one of the foremost trading
empires of the early mediaeval world,
commanding the western marches of the Silk Road and playing a key commercial role as a
crossroad between China,
the Middle East, and Kievan Rus'. For some three centuries (c. 650–965) the
Khazars dominated the vast area extending from the Volga-Don steppes to the
eastern Crimea and
the northern Caucasus.
The late 19th century saw the emergence of the theory that
many of today's Ashkenazi Jews are descended from a
hypothetical Khazarian Jewish diaspora that migrated westward from modern-day
Russia and Ukraine into modern-day France and Germany. Linguistic and genetic
studies have not supported the theory of a Khazar connection to Ashkenazi
Jewry. The theory still occasionally finds support, but most scholars view it
with considerable scepticism. The theory is sometimes associated with antisemitism
and anti-Zionism.
The search for a long-lost Jewish empire
has yielded many legends and few facts.
Most of what I have written is quoted from
open sources. I simply glued them
together and waited for an opportune time to write about the quest for the
long-lost Jewish empire.
Have a good weekend.
Beni 25th
of August, 2022.