Intro
The text discusses the enduring connection of the Jewish people with their ancestral land, despite being forcibly exiled. This connection is highlighted in the Declaration of the Establishment of the State of Israel in 1948 and echoed by S. I. Agnon during his Nobel Prize acceptance speech in 1966. Both these documents emphasize the persistent hope and prayer for a return to their homeland and the restoration of political freedom. Agnon, despite being born in a city of exile, always considered himself a native of Jerusalem, mirroring the sentiment that many Israelis and the broader Jewish community share—a deeply ingrained historical consciousness of being exiled since the fall of the Second Temple in 70 CE. This consciousness is tied to the Jewish tradition’s narratives of uprooting, deportation, and migration, which are themes deeply embedded in religious texts such as the Torah, the Prophets, and the Writings.
The notion of exile, particularly the “second exile” after 70 CE, is part of a broader mythic framework that has reinforced Jewish ethnic identity over time. Historical events and religious traditions, intertwined with Christian influences, have contributed to shaping a consciousness that represents modern Jews as the descendants of biblical ancestors. This narrative of exile and return, while rooted in religious and historical texts, functions more as a symbolic myth rather than an exact historical account. It has provided a cohesive ethnic identity for Jews worldwide, shaping both religious sentiments and secular national consciousness. Thus, the myth of uprooting and return has underscored Jewish identity, underlining both a real and imagined continuity with their ancient heritage and laying the foundation for modern statehood and cultural identity.
Exiled in 70 AD
The Romans, like empires before them, did not typically deport entire populations as it was counterproductive to their imperial objectives, which relied on local populations for food production and tax revenues. The Roman Empire, unlike the Assyrian and Babylonian empires, rarely displaced local communities to make room for settlers and did not have the logistical capabilities for mass deportations like modern colonizers. The historian Flavius Josephus is one of the few sources on the Jewish Wars, particularly emphasizing the siege of Jerusalem in 70 CE. His estimates of casualties and deportations, such as 1.1 million deaths and 97,000 captives, are often considered exaggerated or symbolic, catering to the conventions of ancient historiography. Modern scholars generally regard these figures as inflated, similar to other demographic estimates from antiquity.
The evidence suggests that, despite the significant upheaval caused by the Zealot uprising and subsequent Roman retaliation, there was no systematic expulsion of the Jewish population from Judea. Artifacts like the Arch of Titus depict the confiscation of the Temple’s sacred items rather than a mass deportation of people, contradicting narratives of a “Jewish exile” following the fall of the temple. Additionally, no archaeological findings corroborate widespread refugee movements or large demographic changes indicative of mass expulsion. Judea’s estimated population before the revolt ranged from half a million to a million, based on agricultural capacity rather than ancient literary exaggerations.
Subsequent warfare, such as the Bar Kokhba revolt of the second century CE, further stressed the region, but Judea remained primarily inhabited by Jews and Samaritans. Roman documentation and archaeology suggest that, although there was severe military repression and persecution during and after the revolt, it did not result in the large-scale exile of Judeans. The province’s renaming to Syria Palaestina was more indicative of administrative restructuring rather than ethnic cleansing. Over time, Judea’s Jewish population recovered, contributing to a flourishing Jewish religious and cultural renaissance, exemplified by the compilation of the Mishnah in 220 CE.
The myth of Jewish exile post-70 CE developed largely due to the integration of Christian narratives seeking to frame Jewish dispersal as divine punishment for the rejection of Jesus. Early Christian writers like Justin Martyr linked Jewish dispossession to theological consequences, positioning it as an ultimate proof of Jewish failure and sin. Jewish tradition gradually absorbed these narratives, turning exile into a metaphysical state beyond mere physical displacement. The Babylonian Talmud began to perpetuate this association, aligning the post-Temple Jewish dispersion with past Biblical exilic experiences.
Exile in Jewish thought came to symbolize spiritual and divine estrangement rather than a mere absence from the land of origin. Rabbinical sources often used ‘exile’ to denote political subjugation and moral testing rather than physical displacement. This conceptual shift accommodated a religious framework where diaspora Jews maintained their identity and continuity, irrespective of geographic location. In this spiritual interpretation, the key affected dimension was existential rather than merely physical; Jews living under foreign dominion, even those in the Holy Land, were in a state of ‘exile.’
Jewish rabbinical thinking traditionally discouraged mass return or uprisings that might hasten divine salvation, drawing on sources like the Talmudic vows which prohibited such actions. This view dismissed aspirations for reconstructing a physical homeland before the arrival of a divinely ordained messiah. As a result, migration dynamics over subsequent centuries saw Jews settle in diverse locales under different empires, without organizing significant collective returns to Judea. The idea of a return from exile was not a practical pursuit but rather a component of messianic hope.
Throughout history, Jewish communities adapted to various exilic circumstances and local religions, investing in cultural and intellectual developments that upheld their heritage. The perception of continuous exile created a significant theological and philosophical narrative that emphasized trial, patience, and ultimate redemption rather than militaristic or territorial aspirations. It wasn’t until modern phenomena like European pogroms, American immigration restrictions, and the horrors of the Holocaust contributed to mass migrations that a significant Jewish population shift to the newly established State of Israel occurred. Thus, for much of Jewish history since the Temple’s fall, ‘exile’ denoted a complex blend of spiritual symbolism, cultural resilience, and eschatological yearning rather than concrete political actions.
Without Expulsion
Heinrich Graetz, in his seminal work “History of the Jews,” draws parallels between the fall of the First and Second Temples, emphasizing the desolation faced by Zion. He portrays the destruction as not just physical but spiritual, underscoring the absence of prophetic voices post-Second Temple fall. Graetz adopts Josephus’s narrative, inflating numbers to stress tragedy, positing that Judea’s depopulation following Rome’s actions constituted a metaphorical exile. His narrative intertwines destruction and exile, though he avoids explicitly stating a complete expulsion, instead emphasizing capture and flight from Judea.
Simon Dubnow, in contrast, eschews notions of a forced exile post-Temple destruction. Following the style of Josephus and Graetz, he details the aftermath of conflict, describing captives spread across the empire and Judea’s thinning population. Dubnow does not craft a narrative of national exile, instead conceptualizing these events as dispersals rather than comprehensive expulsions. His focus remains on depicting the tragic losses without conflating them with a total displacement of the Jewish people.
Salo Baron adopts a more analytical approach, disentangling the end of Judean statehood from the Jewish ethnic identity’s continuity. Baron critiques gentile historians like Theodor Mommsen, challenging the notion of post-destruction Jewish communities as merely religious rather than ethnic groups. For Baron, Jewish history, from Nebuchadnezzar to modernity, showcases a distinctive ethnos that transcends typical national division narratives, underscoring a continuous Jewish ethnic narrative despite geographic displacement.
Zionist historiography, despite its nationalistic undertone, does not conventionally depict post-Temple expulsion. Yitzhak Baer’s “Galut” introduces a unique timing for exile, framing it as an eventual consequence of the Arab conquest rather than an immediate result of the Roman devastation. Baer paints a picture of cultural and religious loss post-destruction, yet maintains that life continued on Judean soil, disconnecting physical exile from spiritual and cultural continuity.
Ben-Zion Dinur, a key Zionist historian, offers a revised chronology of exile beginning with the Arab conquest, distancing it from the Roman era. Dinur argues for a historical perspective that recognizes demographic and cultural shifts, due to Arab settlement, as the true onset of exile. This shift reflects a Zionist effort to compact the exile period, reinforcing national claims over the land by highlighting Jewish continuity up to more recent centuries.
Historians like Joseph Klausner and Yehezkel Kaufmann further navigate the complexity of Jewish exile, adhering to a narrative that emphasizes resilience over expulsion narratives. Klausner, through his influential work, acknowledges the post-fall Jewish presence that fueled subsequent revolts, like that led by Bar Kokhba, reinforcing the idea that Judea remained populated by Jews. Kaufmann’s work investigates Jewish endurance as a nation rather than focusing on the mechanics of an alleged expulsion, highlighting Jewish distinctiveness through adversity.
The persistent myth of exile following the Second Temple’s fall remains ingrained in both religious and secular consciousness, often unexamined and accepted in the historiographical mainstream. Despite this, careful historians have subtly introduced alternate explanations for Jewish dispersion, emphasizing a narrative rich with cultural and national survival against overwhelming odds, challenging simple categorizations of historical exile. This reflects the complex interplay of myth, memory, and historiography in understanding Jewish history and identity.
Against Its Will
The myth of Jewish destruction and expulsion post-70 CE is complicated by the fact that there were significant Jewish communities outside Judea long before that date. After Cyrus’s decree ending the so-called Babylonian exile, not all Jewish exiles returned to Jerusalem; many chose to stay in Babylon and other cultural centers where Jewish religious traditions continued to flourish. Significant Jewish religious development occurred far from Jerusalem, particularly in Babylonian centers like Sura and Pumbedita, where the Babylonian Talmud—a highly esteemed text—was compiled. This diaspora suggests that many Jews viewed Jerusalem as a spiritual center rather than a place to which they were compelled to return.
Josephus mentioned extensive Jewish communities in the Parthian Empire during the first century CE, including a Jewish principality near Nehardea. The existence of these communities shows that Jewish presence outside Judea was not solely a result of expulsion or migration following the destruction of the Second Temple. The origins of these communities require further explanation beyond the simplistic destruction-expulsion narrative.
Jewish settlement in Egypt is another component of the expansive Jewish diaspora prior to 70 CE. Historical accounts, such as those referring to Judeans migrating to Egypt after the First Temple’s fall and establishing communities, challenge the notion that these movements were primarily due to expulsion. Josephus and other historical sources indicate significant Jewish settlement and integration in Egypt, particularly in places like Alexandria, where Jews were often respected and participated in the cultural life.
Jewish presence was not confined to the Eastern Mediterranean. With the spread of the Hellenistic world under Alexander the Great and the Roman Empire’s expansion, Jews settled in various communities across regions like Cyrenaica, Asia Minor, and cities across Europe. Migration patterns included voluntary settlement, integration into local societies, and participation in local economies, illustrating a more complex diaspora than one caused by forced expulsion alone.
The presence of Jewish communities in places as far-flung as Rome, evidenced by Cicero’s disdain for their numbers and religious life in Roman catacombs, further demonstrates the complexity of Jewish migration and integration. Such wide geographic dispersion, long before the destruction of the Second Temple, implies diverse reasons for Jewish presence beyond displacement from Judea.
Salo Baron and other historians propose dramatic population estimates of Jews in the first century CE, based on extensive diaspora and historical records. These figures, while likely exaggerated, underscore how integrated and expansive Jewish communities were in the ancient world. The narrative of Jewish migration includes both voluntary and involuntary elements, drawing from trade, culture, and socio-political dynamics more than straight-line narratives of expulsion.
Historians have traditionally reconciled the diaspora with the myth of destruction-expulsion by suggesting extensive Judean emigration, although older historical methodologies drew on models similar to the movements of Phoenicians and Greeks. This analogy, while appealing, ignores differences in Jewish societal structure and occupational distribution, suggesting that many Jews weren’t the ‘wandering’ type traditionally depicted.
All Nations Shall Flow to It
Furthermore, the question arises as to why emigrant Jewish communities did not retain linguistic or cultural distinctions typical of insular diasporas, like retaining Hebrew or Aramaic. The non-agricultural nature of Jewish diasporas pushes against the grain of Judaic identity centered on being an agrarian society, further complicating the migration narrative.
The existence of widespread Jewish communities, from scholarly hubs to trading enclaves, necessitates broader explanations beyond mere demographic expansion from Judea. The historical growth of these communities likely involves significant conversion and integration, which are understudied aspects of Jewish history before the modern age.
Diverse historical and biblical figures illustrate the varied dynamics of conversion and integration in Jewish communities, often challenging isolationist purity laws such as those in Deuteronomy. Stories of individuals like Ruth and Rahab reflect a historic openness to conversion that may correlate with the widespread adoption of Judaism in various regions.
Finally, historians like Uriel Rapaport have pointed to the scale of conversion as a significant factor in Jewish diaspora growth during the Second Temple period. This argument situates mass conversion and proselytizing within broader historical and cultural dynamics, potentially helping to explain the exponential growth of Jewish communities throughout the Mediterranean basin and beyond.
The Hasmonean dynasty played a critical role in formalizing and expanding Jewish identity into a substantial population, utilizing strategies that encouraged religious integration and conversion, reflecting Judaism’s transformative power during critical periods. Understanding these contexts reshapes historical narratives on Jewish diaspora formation beyond simplistic expulsion-centered models.
Hasmoneans Impose Judaism
The spread of Judaism beyond its original boundaries can be attributed to its dynamic interaction with Hellenism. The Hasmoneans, historical Jewish leaders, actively engaged in expanding their territories and religious influence, which included enforcing Judaism on their neighboring communities through various forms of conversion. This movement was not isolated to religious zeal but was intertwined with broader cultural and political shifts occurring in the region due to Hellenistic influences. The ancient Middle East saw the dissolution of old cultural boundaries and the fusion of Greek and local traditions, which affected Judaism’s spread and adaptation.
Initially regarded as an insular religion, Judaism began opening up, influenced by Hellenistic ideals. Greek customs and language penetrated Jewish life, reshaping it in substantial and irreversible ways. Urban centers such as Jerusalem became more Hellenized. The Hasmonean dynasty, whose leaders adopted Hellenistic titles and practices, exemplified this shift. Despite resistance, these leaders managed to establish a monotheistic authority, engaging in conversions that were more political than purely religious, as they sought stability and expansion.
Zionist historiography initially viewed this period as a conflict between Jewish and Hellenistic values, constructing a narrative where the Hasmoneans preserved a pure Jewish identity against Hellenistic corruption. However, deeper historical analyses uncover multiple layers, revealing that the Hasmoneans themselves were quite Hellenized. Their political structure and culture were marked by dualism: they maintained Jewish monotheism while embracing Hellenistic governance and cultural norms, such as language and city-state organization.
The merging of monotheism with Hellenism helped Judaism inspire a broader base beyond its immediate geographic area. Notably, the Hasmoneans were significant players in this fusion, establishing the first Jewish kingdom characterized prominently by monotheism despite being politically and culturally Hellenistic. They wielded significant influence as they enhanced Judaism’s reach externally. Internally, however, their policies led to tensions due to forced conversions of neighboring populations like the Edomites, Samaritans, and Itureans, significantly altering the region’s religious landscape.
The outcomes of the Hasmonean territorial conquests were long-lasting. Not only did they absorb conquered peoples into the Jewish religion, but the integration laid the groundwork for later Jewish communities. The process illustrated a shift from Judeanity to Judaism as the practice became more universal with religious adherence increasingly outweighing ethnic or linguistic ties. Conversion became a societal norm in the kingdom due to Hasmonean policies, even as it sparked debates on the values and implications of enforced religiosity.
Despite mixed historical perspectives on these conquests, they undeniably contributed to Judaism’s wider dissemination. The example of the Edomites, forcibly integrated into the Jewish kingdom, highlights the complex dynamics of conversion, amalgamation, and adaptation. These conversions, fraught with tension, had significant consequences, notably among the elites who integrated more fully than the rural populations and led to subsequent generations of influential figures, including Herod the Great.
Beyond forced conversions, voluntary conversions were also widespread, evidenced by the numerous non-Jews adopting Jewish customs across the Hellenistic world, as reflected in Alexandria’s Septuagint translation efforts. This was part of a broader movement towards Jewish proselytization driven by the merging of Jewish and Stoic/Epicurean philosophies. These efforts were bolstered by Hellenism itself, which, by espousing universalism, aligned with the monotheistic aspirations of Judaism, creating a platform for its expansion.
From Hellenistic to Mesopotamian
These Hellenistic translations and writings helped spread Jewish thought to various cultural centers where local populations were drawn to the monotheistic ideals that Judaism promoted. This led to the growing presence of Jewish diaspora communities and converted gentiles, expanding the reach of Jewish customs and beliefs throughout the Mediterranean. Prominent scholars like Philo of Alexandria celebrated this spread, viewing it as a testament to Judaism’s inherent value and appeal.
Throughout, societal and cultural tensions continued to arise. Josephus, in documenting these conversions and the general acceptance of Jewish customs, underscored the significant attraction Judaism held across diverse regions. Conflict, intrigue, and the broader processes of cultural diffusion brought together differing traditions, which sometimes resulted in friction between retaining Jewish purity and embracing wider cultural currents.
The role of Judaism as a universal and missionary religion continued to evolve, reflected in stories of rulers converting entire realms, as occurred in places like Adiabene. This set a precedent, showing how political and religious motives intertwined, fueling a significant historical pattern of both conflict and syncretism. The conversion narrative within royal and noble circles, alongside common wars of ideology and identity, highlighted the complex and symbiotic relationship between Judaism and Hellenism.
In conclusion, these transformations solidified a multifaceted identity for Judaism, which at once engaged with and transformed through the cultural currents of its times. While Zionist historians originally colored this period as one of staunch resistance against Hellenism, a fuller understanding demonstrates a dynamic process involving adaptation, conversion, and cultural exchange. This historical phase and the syncretism it created were critical in shaping the religious, cultural, and political landscapes that laid the groundwork for potential future developments like Christianity, illustrating that Judaism’s role and identity were far from static during this tumultuous epoch.
Judaizing in Rome
The expansion of the Roman Empire facilitated a new cultural configuration around the Mediterranean, enabling the spread of Judaism significantly. The Roman conquests made the region more interconnected, which allowed for Jewish thought and practices to permeate diverse populations. By the time of the Roman Empire’s peak, Judaism was practiced by a notable percentage of the population, expanding its definition beyond the people of Judea to include a growing number of proselytes. This expansion altered the perception of Jewish identity from a purely ethnic origin to one that could be chosen as a way of life.
Roman documents often mention Judaism in the context of conversion, reflecting its notable influence on non-Jewish populations and the occasional friction it caused within the Roman society. While the Romans generally tolerated different religious beliefs, they struggled with Judaism’s monotheism, which was seen as exclusive and challenging to the polytheistic traditions integral to Roman social and political systems. Consequently, Jewish conversion efforts were sometimes perceived as threats to this order, leading to episodes of expulsion and tension within the empire.
Instances of Jewish expulsions from Rome highlight the Roman reaction to the perceived challenge of Jewish proselytization. Reports from various Roman historians reveal that these expulsions happened at different times, often linked to social disruptions attributed to the spread of Jewish customs and beliefs. These accounts, such as those during the reigns of Tiberius and Claudius, illustrate how the growing number of Jewish converts, sparked by missionary efforts, worried the authorities and provoked actions to limit their influence.
The mention of Jewish missionary activity in contemporary Roman literature underlines the anxiety it caused among Roman intellectuals and officials. Prominent figures like Horace and Tacitus commented on the Jewish influence, with some expressing resentment and hostility due to the perceived erosion of traditional Roman values and beliefs. These critiques were partly due to the success of Judaism’s expansion, which threatened existing cultural and religious norms, provoking fear of cultural displacement among Roman elites.
Despite opposition and expulsions, the appeal of Judaism continued to attract a wide range of converts across Roman society. The religion offered a structured belief system with clear rituals and moral teachings that appealed to many seeking stability and meaning in a rapidly changing world. This appeal was particularly strong among women, who often played leading roles in the conversion process within their families and communities, indicating a gender dimension to the expansion of Judaism.
The overlap between Jewish expansion and the rise of Christianity highlights the fluid religious landscape of the time. As Judaism spread and adapted, emerging Christian beliefs took advantage of existing syncretic religious networks, presenting a more flexible alternative that maintained aspects of Jewish monotheism. This competition between traditional Jewish scholars and Christian preachers reflected a transitional period in religious history, where adaptation to cultural shifts was critical for the survival and proliferation of religious ideas.
Rabbinical View of Proselytizing
The relationship between Judaism and proselytizing underwent significant change from the time of the Hellenistic Jewish writers to the emergence of rabbinical Judaism post-Temple destruction. Initially, Jewish-Hellenistic literature and the writings of figures like Philo Judaeus were favorable to and even promoted conversion, impacting early Christian literature. However, as Judaism interacted with Hellenism, it cultivated a universalist perspective, while simultaneously, the Pharisee Judaism developed in Babylon shifted toward more internal consolidation. This period established a foundation on which Judaism could maintain its distinctiveness amidst dominant religious civilizations, although a complex dialectic between Pharisee Judaism and Pauline Christianity notably intensified during this time.
The rabbinical stance toward proselytes varied widely, influenced by historical and social contexts. Expressions of both acceptance and skepticism can be found within Talmudic writings. For example, Rabbi Eleazar saw exile as a means for incorporating proselytes into the Jewish fold, while Rabbi Chelbds made a negative comparison likening proselytes to a scab. These variations highlight the dynamic and diverse rabbinical attitudes which evolved through the early centuries of the Common Era, with changes often reflecting broader societal interactions, such as the rise of Christianity prompting a shift away from proselytization due to its perceived heretical nature.
Despite negative pressures, rabbinical literature extensively discusses the importance of welcoming and integrating converts into Jewish society. Teachings from the Mishnah and Talmud advocate for treating converts with equality, emphasizing that historical prejudices should not affect their acceptance. The Mishnah, for instance, discourages recalling converts’ pasts or origins to discriminate against them. Such inclusivity is mirrored in halakhic discourse, where marriage customs favor proselyte women as preferable partners, reflecting societal attitudes that shaped Jewish communal life.
Historically, prominent converts or descendants of converts held significant positions in Jewish society. Notable religious figures, like Shemaiah and Abtalion, as well as translators like Onkelos, demonstrate the integration and influence of proselytes in Jewish historical development. However, detailed records of the percentage of converts in Jewish society at large are sparse, leading to an understanding mostly based on evidence of elite activity. The notion of converts being regarded as “newly born” highlights the transformative process involved in conversion and their eventual full absorption into Jewish communities.
The declining momentum of Jewish proselytization arose due to multiple factors, including external Roman and later Christian legal restrictions, which significantly curtailed Jewish conversion practices. This period coincided with the Christianization of the Roman Empire, which imposed severe restrictions such as prohibiting circumcision for non-Jews, limiting Jewish legal rights, and punishing Jewish ownership of Christian slaves. As such edicts took effect, Jews began withdrawing into more insular communities, a trend spurred by the Christian church’s strategic relegation of Judaism to a marginalized status.
In the wake of these restrictions, Judaism’s approach to identity shifted significantly. With proselytizing greatly reduced, rabbinical Judaism adopted a more isolated stance, emphasizing continuity within the community while treating outsiders with increased suspicion. Despite this trend towards inward consolidation, proselytizing efforts persisted, albeit on a smaller scale and on the periphery of the Christian world. These activities, while diminished, highlight the persistent drive within the Jewish faith to attract new adherents, thus maintaining a thread of Judaism’s earlier universalism amid an increasingly challenging environment. This dynamic period marks a pivotal transition in Jewish history, as seen in the shifting strategies towards identity and survival across different cultural and religious landscapes.
Sad Fate of Judeans
The historical fate of the Judeans following the destruction of the Second Temple has often been shrouded in misconceptions and historical neglect. Contrary to popular belief, there was no large-scale forced exile of the Judean population during this period. Historical narratives from the time, effectively sidelined by nationalist memory, suggest that despite the destruction and subsequent political upheavals, much of the local agrarian population remained in place. The notion of a significant expulsion during the Muslim conquest in the seventh century CE was advanced by early historians, but it is not substantiated by historical evidence, as no such policy targeted Jewish residents.
The continuity of Judean presence in the region is supported by evidence of a thriving Jewish culture even after the Bar Kokhba revolt and the fall of the Temple. Up until the Muslim conquest, Judeans remained a significant demographic force between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea. However, theories that place this demographic shift much later, during the Arab period, are not convincingly backed by historical data. Many Judeans either retained their religious beliefs or converted to Christianity in the intervening centuries, as seen in the growing Christian communities within key cities.
Throughout the Byzantine period, the population of Palestine, once Judea, was characterized by its diversity, housing Christians, Jews, Samaritans, and pagans. Despite the spread of Christianity, often under duress, many Jews retained their beliefs, bolstered by ties to Jewish communities in Babylonia. The challenge posed by Christianity altered the religious landscape, yet the Jewish presence persisted, with some synagogues being built up until the early Islamic period. The Muslim conquest was relatively tactful toward monotheistic religions, providing protection and even allowing Jewish entry into Jerusalem, a departure from previous Byzantine policies.
Muhammad’s directives fostered a relatively tolerant environment for Jews and Christians after the Muslim conquests of the seventh century. This was seen as a relief from the previous Byzantine subjugation and offered opportunities for Jews, who were legally protected as “people of the Book.” The Muslim rulers’ taxation strategy, which exempted Muslims from taxes while taxing non-Muslims, incentivized conversion over time. This policy, together with Islam’s monotheistic kinship with Judaism and Christianity, encouraged gradual religious shifts among populations wanting to avoid financial burdens.
The conversion to Islam, however, impacted the regional demography, as Christianity and Judaism witnessed a slow decline in followers. Jewish synagogues saw decreased construction, and fewer prayer houses were observed over time. The shift was gradual, influenced by societal pressures and economic incentives, gradually leading to a decrease in the Jewish majority presence in the region. The religious transformations during these transitions illustrate the complexities and multifaceted nature of identity, belief, and survival across shifting political and cultural landscapes.
Remembering and Forgetting
The commentary of Saadia Gaon, a prominent tenth-century Jewish scholar, highlighted the process of Islamization in Jerusalem and expressed deep grief over Judeans abandoning their faith. His insights, revived by historian Abraham Polak in 1967, pointed to a historical narrative suggesting that many Judeans converted to Islam over time. Polak’s work, which followed Israel’s acquisition of the West Bank and Gaza Strip, suggested the potential continuity between ancient Judeans and modern Palestinians. However, despite the historical significance, his work did not lead to substantial scholarly inquiry or public discourse.
Throughout the early Zionist settlement era, there was a belief that the Palestinian fellahin (farmers) were descendants of ancient Judeans who had converted to Islam, a sentiment shared by figures such as Israel Belkind and Ber Borochov. Belkind argued that many ancient Judeans remained on the land, maintaining their farming practices, and called for a rekindling of ties with these communities. He suggested that Hebrew schools should welcome Muslim students, bridging the cultural and historical gaps perceived between Jewish settlers and the local populace.
This belief in shared ancestry was also embraced by notable Zionist leaders like David Ben-Gurion and Yitzhak Ben-Zvi. In their work, they asserted that the Arab conquerors of the seventh century maintained a Judean agrarian population rather than supplant it. The Muslim conquerors focused on administration and taxation rather than resettlement, allowing the local farmers, presumably of Judean descent, to retain their lands. Their research emphasized the historical and ethnic ties between ancient Judeans and contemporary Palestinians.
Ben-Zvi, in his independent research in 1929, reinforced these ideas, presenting a more detailed account of the Judean farmers’ resilience through various conquests and highlighting conversions to Islam as strategies for survival rather than cultural abandonment. However, shifts in political climates and rising Palestinian nationalism realized through uprisings and revolts soured this perception. Integrationist Zionist views faded as the political realities made such ideas seem untenable.
Over time, Zionist historiography began to distance itself from the notion of a Judean ancestry among Palestinians. As tensions grew and the political landscape shifted, these ideas faded from collective memory, replaced by national narratives that focused on Jewish exile and return. The constructed narrative of exile became central to the Zionist justification for a Jewish homeland, emphasizing a sharp distinction between Jewish and local Arab identities.
The narrative of forced Judaization and proselytization during the Hasmonean and Roman periods was downplayed in collective memory to maintain a simpler and more uniform national history. This enabled a notion of an unbroken chain of Jewish lineage from biblical patriarchs to contemporary Jews, supporting the Zionist vision of a return to a “historically” Jewish land.
The forgetting of these conversions was crucial for constructing a narrative centered on a wandering, isolated Jewish people, essential for legitimizing Zionist claims. By neglecting historical complexities, the national story of exile and return could be maintained without the nuances of shared ancestry or historical continuity with non-Jewish local populations.
Ultimately, the selective memory reinforced a vision of Jewish identity that aligned with the ideological aims of Zionism, emphasizing a shared lineage and obscured the multi-layered historical reality where conversions and cultural mingling were significant. This facilitated a unifying narrative for Jewish nationalism, underpinning the establishment and history of the State of Israel.