Intro
The text explores the contentious origins of the Pentateuch, highlighting Baruch Spinoza’s assertion that it was not authored by Moses but by a writer who lived much later. It juxtaposes this idea with the spiritual and national genesis of the Jewish people in the Land of Israel, where their identity took shape, leading to significant cultural contributions, including the revered “Book of Books.” The text points to historical works like Flavius Josephus’s “Antiquities of the Jews,” which endeavors to outline Jewish history from its mythological beginnings to his contemporary era. Josephus, a Hellenized Jewish historian, points to divine dictation from God to Moses as the origin of the Pentateuch, aligning his historical narrative with scriptural accounts and occasionally integrating secular sources to create a coherent history.
Josephus’s work, written in the late first century CE, undertakes to trace the genealogy of Jews from biblical tales, maintaining a focus on religious narratives while embedding them within the broader history of humanity. His writings reflect a theological perspective, aiming to propagate monotheism amid the largely pagan Roman culture. He illustrates the Jewish ancestors’ deeds intertwined with divine acts, presenting a history that venerates Jewish laws and their omnipotent deity. His historical rendition, drawing stylistically and structurally from Greco-Roman historiography, serves as a testament to the exemplary philosophy of Jewish antiquity and monotheism, providing a religious underpinning to historical events.
In the transition to the nationalist era in modern times, there was a philosophical shift wherein divine elements of biblical narratives were demystified and discarded, leaving room for a historical understanding centered solely on human deeds. This shift begs the question of how miraculous accounts were dismissed as myths while the human-centric narratives were upheld as facts. The text suggests that the selective acceptance of biblical stories was less about a universal narrative and more about creating a legacy of a sacred people, who were subsequently interpreted by modern readings as the first nation in history. Thus, the narrative evolves, balancing between the sacred and the secular while seeking historical legitimacy for the Jewish people’s origins and their eventual nationhood.
Early Shaping
The notion that entire populations, such as the Jews in 70 CE, were exiled is a topic of historical discussion and often debated. Historically, the Romans, much like the Assyrians and Babylonians before them, did not deport entire populations from their conquered lands. The logistics of moving entire peoples were beyond the capabilities of ancient empires, which lacked the modern transportation means such as trucks or trains. Instead, Roman policy typically involved executing rebels, taking captives, and selling them into slavery. While individual leaders and elite classes might be deported, this did not extend to general populations in regions like the Near East.
Flavius Josephus is a vital historical source concerning events from the period surrounding 70 CE, detailing the siege of Jerusalem and subsequent destruction. Although Josephus’s figures, like those of other ancient historians, tend to be exaggerated—claiming over a million deaths and around 97,000 captives—modern estimates suggest that Jerusalem’s population was significantly smaller. Even considering the high number of captives, there is no evidence in Roman records or archaeological findings supporting a wide-scale deportation from Judea. Instead, the focus appears to be on the consequence of the revolt impacting Jerusalem and several fortified cities, rather than an empire-wide effort to relocate an entire people.
Archaeological evidence contradicts the total devastation purported by historical accounts like Josephus’s. For instance, some cities had nearly recovered by the end of the first century CE, suggesting that the Jewish community, particularly around Jerusalem, rebounded fairly quickly in economic and demographic terms after the tumult of the revolt against Rome. The cultural loss felt by the priestly and cultural classes after the destruction was, however, significant, potentially affecting broader social dynamics within the community.
The subsequent Jewish monotheistic revolt of the second century CE, widely known as the Bar Kokhba revolt, introduced substantial upheaval yet did not result in mass deportations despite atrocities and strife. This revolt, occurring under Emperor Hadrian’s rule, saw heavy casualties and destruction, but descriptions of such an event do not include references to deportation. Instead, following the revolt, Judeans, Samaritans, and the broader population largely remained in their lands, participating in a cultural recovery and the continued development of Jewish traditions, such as the completion of the Mishnah, adding significant historical depth to Jewish identity and culture.
Scholarly evaluations by figures like Chaim Milikowsky and Israel Jacob Yuval challenge the stereotypical understanding of Jewish exile. During the second and third centuries CE, the concept of “exile” in Jewish texts often referred to political subjugation rather than physical deportation, while the evolving Christian narrative may have influenced Jewish perceptions. Writers like Justin Martyr, emphasizing the banishment of Jews as divine retribution for rejecting Jesus, contributed significantly to the exile motif in both Christian and later Jewish thought, framing the Jewish diaspora as a reflection not merely of physical dislocation but also of divine judgment.
Despite the considerable focus on exile in religious texts, actual mass migrations prompted by religious motivations to return to the homeland were historically rare. Over centuries, the rabbinical interpretation of exile became metaphysical, delineating a condition that transcended territorial boundaries—a perception maintained until the modern age, when political and social forces reshaped Jewish migrations, especially following severe persecutions in Europe. The movement of Jewish populations over the centuries, driven more by external pressures than by a yearning to return to a historically conceived “homeland,” would eventually culminate in the more intentional migrations to what is now Israel, especially following the 20th-century upheavals and the Holocaust.
Old Testament Myth
“The Old Testament as Mythistory” delves into the historical writings and narratives surrounding Jewish identity and history in modern times. The text opens with a mention of Jost’s “History of the Israelites,” a significant work in Jewish historiography that, despite its pioneering stance, did not garner widespread popularity or translations, possibly due to its conflict with the prevailing German-Jewish intellectual sentiments. These intellectuals aligned themselves more closely with German identity and the Reform movement rather than seeking roots in ancient Jewish past. This early Jewish history was seen less as the story of a wandering nation and more as a religious community without nationalistic ties.
Heinrich Graetz’s “History of the Jews” from the 1850s marked a shift in Jewish historiography and was widely translated and influential in shaping national Jewish history. While Jost’s work did not find favor across different Jewish communities, Graetz’s compelling narrative style and his emphasis on a continuous thread of Jewish history had significant implications for early Zionist thinkers and writers, particularly those in the Russian Empire. Despite Graetz’s personal reluctance to focus on Eastern European Jewry, his work fed into the imaginations and aspirations of those who would later advocate for a Jewish homeland, illustrating how historical narratives can inspire future nationalist movements.
At the core of this emerging nationalist history was a reimagining of the Jewish people as an unbroken nation, a transition orchestrated largely by figures like Graetz who sought to craft a cohesive narrative that glossed over historical discontinuities. This approach aligned with the emerging nationalist ideologies of the 19th century, presenting the Jewish people as an ancient race, despite ongoing debates about their past. Graetz’s criticism of figures like Jost emanated from a conviction that Jewish history couldn’t suffer gaps in its narrative if it were to support a nationalist cause effectively. He foresaw history as a seamless continuum, which was essential to counter the notion of Judaism as merely a religion rather than a nation.
Graetz’s volumes, initially focusing on the post-biblical period, later pivoted to emphasize the biblical era, a move driven by rising nationalist fervor in Europe. His work signaled a protonationalist interpretation of Jewish history, underscoring the significance of the biblical narrative as more than mere religious texts. Rather, these narratives were seen as foundational myths critical to fostering a collective identity. In an era where national myths often drew from heroic pasts, Graetz provided a Jewish variant centered on biblical times, thus feeding the mythic narrative required for modern nationalism.
Moreover, the Old Testament, though long seen as a holy yet inaccessible text, began to be re-evaluated as a cornerstone of Jewish national identity in the age of emerging secularism. For Jews wrestling with their identity in the face of a rational, often de-spiritualized worldview, history provided a connection to their past. Graetz and others like him saw the Old Testament as more than religious scripture but as the skeleton of a national epic that endowed the Jews with a storied history akin to other nations. This sentiment resonated with those seeking to establish a new, national consciousness that was both ancient and authoritative.
In this context, the Old Testament narratives were reshaped to fit the narrative of a valiant people whose identity and resolute character were forged in their ancient homeland. Graetz, despite avoiding miracle stories like the exodus or patriarchal tales extensively, stressed the formation of a people that derived its strength and uniqueness from the geographical and historical milieu of Canaan. This adaptation of the ancient text as a national narrative was a response to contemporary needs, where the creation and maintenance of a collective identity became paramount for the survival and thriving of Jewish people in the age of nation-states.
Race and Nation
In his foreword to Rome and Jerusalem, Moses Hess enthusiastically quotes Heinrich Graetz, whose work emphasized the national character of Jewish history, even with the Talmud. This struck a chord with Hess, who was grappling with anti-Jewish sentiments in Germany while trying to understand his own national identity. Hess’s disdain for Germans and preference for the French and “authentic” Jews is evident throughout his work. After being expelled from Germany, Hess relocated to France, where he temporarily withdrew from politics to focus on natural science. His readings of emergent racist theories in the 1850s, like those by Robert Knox and Arthur de Gobineau, shaped his thoughts significantly.
Hess’s exposure to racial theories led him to believe in a more profound “race question” underlying nationality and freedom issues. These theories suggested that past history had been dominated by racial conflicts rather than just class wars. Until these conflicts were resolved, Hess advocated for Eastern European Jews to return to their places of origin, specifically the Holy Land. He viewed Jews as a distinct racial group, which he argued was evidenced by depictions found in Egyptian tombs and retained its integrity over centuries despite changing environments.
For Hess, the enduring nature of the Jewish nation was inherently linked to its religion and faith, which he believed prevented assimilation. While acknowledging the role of religion, Hess considered the Jewish identity to be rooted primarily in race rather than mere doctrine or theory. This racial and national origin perspective countered reformist and assimilationist movements in Germany, reinforcing the notion of an indestructible Jewish type, as he elaborates in Rome and Jerusalem.
Graetz, influenced by Hess’s ideas, transitioned from a dualistic concept of history to a more essentialist and nationalist viewpoint. While initially presenting Jewish history as comprising both body (the tribe) and soul (religion), Graetz later emphasized the body as a defining factor of Jewish identity. Hess’s book, Rome and Jerusalem, was a catalyst for this shift. The two men eventually became friends, with Graetz adopting elements of Hess’s ideology, as evidenced in Graetz’s essay “The Rejuvenation of the Jewish Race.”
In this essay, Graetz grappled with the criteria for a community to identify as a nation. He argued against racial origins, language, territory, historical memories, and high culture as sole unifying factors for nationality. Graetz observed that throughout history, peoples were often passive viewers rather than participants in their political histories. He proposed that the existence of nations is mysterious, with some being mortal and others, like the Jewish race, immortal.
The Jewish race, according to Graetz, has uniquely preserved itself and evolved, capable of renewing its biblical youth. He saw this capacity for renewal, highlighted during the return to Zion after the Babylonian exile, as an organic and miraculous attribute. For Graetz, the Jewish people’s history was exceptional, framing them as a “messianic people” destined to eventually save all humanity. This perspective aligned with a teleological view of the Jewish race, emphasizing a moral path over a political one.
Echoing other 19th-century nation-fostering historians, Graetz assumed his nation’s history to be unique and incomparable. This standpoint was evident in the later volumes of his History of the Jews, especially in modern history sections. The nationalistic tone of these writings, particularly those attempting to trace biblical genealogy, stirred contention among contemporaries. These volumes, completed between the 1860s and early 1870s, reflected Graetz’s efforts to intertwine national consciousness with a historical narrative, much in line with the intellectual currents stirred by Hess and others of his time.
Historians Dispute
In the late 1870s, Heinrich von Treitschke, a well-respected historian and professor at the University of Berlin, sparked controversy with his essay “One Word about Our Jewry.” Published in 1879, it provided academic legitimacy to anti-Jewish sentiments, primarily focusing on the demographic shifts due to the influx of Eastern European Jews into Germany. Treitschke differentiated these newcomers from the Spanish Jews, arguing that the former threatened to dilapidate the pure German culture with what he termed a mongrel culture. Accusing historian Heinrich Graetz of fostering Jewish separatism, Treitschke viewed Graetz’s work as emblematic of Jewish arrogance and hostility toward German values.
Graetz, unfazed by Treitschke’s stature, responded robustly, concluding his rebuttal with a provocative quote from Benjamin Disraeli, emphasizing the indestructibility of the Caucasian race. Treitschke, in turn, objected to Graetz’s perceived demands for Jews to be recognized as a nation within the German state. He suggested that such aspirations undermined the emancipation laws and could only be resolved by Jewish emigration to form their own state elsewhere, thereby ruling out the possibility of dual nationality in Germany.
Treitschke’s views represented a middle-ground stance between civil and racial nationalism. Unlike more blatant anti-Semites of the time, he didn’t wholly dismiss the possibility of Jews integrating into the German nation but saw an inherent contradiction between Jewish and German identities. His essentialist perspective paralleled Graetz’s own views in some respects, as both historians operated from a basis of exclusive ethnic identities, seeing Jews and Germans as inherently distinct peoples.
Graetz, while contributing to the idea of a secular Jewish connection to an ancient homeland, was not entirely aligned with the Zionist movement. Despite connections with Hess and a transient exploration of his ancestral land, Graetz was cautious about endorsing Jewish migration to Palestine. Amidst the backlash from German-Jewish intellectuals, Graetz receded, momentarily asserting a German identity that sought merely equal rights, turning Treitschke’s critique of his origins back on the historian himself.
The conflict between Graetz and Treitschke revealed the inner tensions within German nationalism. Both historians held national identity as deeply rooted in historical lineage, yet their outlooks highlighted the perceived incompatibility of Jewish and German identities. Despite this, several non-Jewish German intellectuals challenged such deterministic views, reflecting a broader debate about nationality’s nature and composition in Germany.
Prominent German intellectuals like Moritz Lazarus and Hermann Cohen opposed Graetz’s national-ethnic approach, advocating for a more inclusive form of German nationalism. They argued that German identity itself was a tapestry of various cultural influences, including Jews, who should be considered Germans first and Jews second. Their perspective emphasized a future-oriented national project rather than a racially rooted past.
The debate among historians like Graetz, Treitschke, and eventually Theodor Mommsen, unfolded against a backdrop marked by rising anti-Semitism. Economic downturns and social insecurities of the 1870s fomented identity anxieties, vilifying outsiders like Jews. Nationalist fervor, ironically fused with democratic expansion, provided fertile ground for political anti-Semitism, even drawing support from some liberal and intellectual circles.
Mommsen, a revered historian of ancient Rome, actively engaged in the debate, arguing for an inclusive conception of nationality. While supportive of German unification, Mommsen disavowed the ethnic nationalism gaining traction in the 1870s. His civil nationalism drew inspiration from the flexible citizenship of ancient Rome and rejected both Treitschke’s exclusive ethnic rhetoric and Graetz’s ethnocentric historiography.
Mommsen saw Jews as integral elements of a modern German nation, akin to any other tribe within Germany. His historical understanding was anti-essentialist, viewing nations as evolving entities formed by diverse influences. He regarded the Jews as dismantlers of older provincial identities, contributing dynamically to German unity and nationhood.
Despite Mommsen’s liberal and inclusive views, they lost ground in the face of rising ethnic nationalism, which would ultimately dominate Germany in the 20th century. His ideas, misinterpreted by figures like Goebbels, were co-opted into racial nationalist rhetoric. Mommsen’s stance, appreciating Jewish contributions to German society, did not gain the sustained influence against the tide of ethnic nationalism.
The silence from both Treitschke and Graetz following Mommsen’s intervention suggested an unwillingness to embrace his civil conception of nationality over their ethnonational frameworks. Graetz’s life’s work opposed the kind of historiography that downplayed the continuity and distinctiveness of a Jewish nation, which he felt underpinned Jewish identity, standing in contrast to the anti-essentialist approaches of Jost and Mommsen. In this complex tapestry of 19th-century nationalist thought, the interplay of identity, historiography, and politics was fraught with contradictions and consequences that would resonate well into the following century.
View from East
In the final years of his life, Heinrich Graetz focused extensively on studying the Old Testament, which he viewed as central to Jewish national revival. Despite accepting some philological critiques about biblical texts, he firmly defended the historical accuracy and authenticity of the Pentateuch, particularly against theories suggesting its composition occurred across different time periods. Graetz rejected Spinoza’s view that parts were written by Ezra, maintaining that the Pentateuch followed shortly after the events described.
Julius Wellhausen’s Prolegomena to the History of Israel emerged in 1882 as a key work questioning the historicity of biblical narratives and suggesting that Jewish religion developed over time. Wellhausen’s theory, claiming parts of the Old Testament were written post-Babylonian exile, incensed Graetz, who perceived such views as diminishing the Jewish nation’s historical grandeur to that of a minor sect. Attacking both Wellhausen and Ernest Renan for their perceived ignorance of Jewish history, Graetz maintained that only Jewish scholars could truly grasp its unique historical importance.
Simon Dubnow, an influential Eastern European historian, was deeply inspired by Graetz and worked to translate his last work into Russian. Though his translations were suppressed by Russian authorities, Dubnow’s engagement with Graetz and even Renan prompted him to write on Jewish history from its biblical beginnings through modern times. This engagement marked a shift, indicating that Graetz’s influence extended beyond Germany into Eastern Europe, where Jewish identity was under dynamic transformation amidst rising nationalism and systemic oppression.
Unlike academic figures in Western Europe, Dubnow arose from the vast Yiddish-speaking Jewish communities of Eastern Europe. Unlike Graetz, he witnessed firsthand the forceful exclusion and nationalist awakening within these communities, exacerbated by pogroms and socio-political discrimination. This environment spurred intellectual and political movements striving for Jewish autonomy and independence, contrasting with the relative integration seen elsewhere.
Dubnow’s historical narrative followed Graetz’s model, focusing on an unbroken portrayal of Jewish historical existence. While an autonomist rather than a Zionist, Dubnow envisioned a distinctive autonomous space for Jews within existing states. He believed in the essential need for a cohesive Jewish identity, maintained through historical awareness and cultural continuity, without necessarily advocating for a separate nation-state.
Dubnow synthesized ideas from prominent thinkers like Renan, Herder, and Fichte to articulate a nationalism based on spiritual and cultural continuity rather than race, language, or territory. He posited that a nation’s unchanging essence lay in its long-term spiritual culture transmitted from generation to generation, suggesting that the Jewish nation was distinctively defined by enduring cultural and historical elements.
Despite rejecting religious foundations as the sole basis for national culture, Dubnow acknowledged Jewish religious traditions as central to secular Jewish national identity. He leaned on Romantic notions of a timeless, spiritual cultural essence to define the Jewish nation, viewing a modern state as secondary to cultivating a persistent cultural identity. Dubnow emphasized the historian’s role in preserving and fostering national consciousness through history, replacing traditional religious authorities as the keepers of Jewish identity.
Dubnow’s approach marked a transition in historiography, integrating scientific methodology with profound narrative detail. His work connected Jewish history to broader societal contexts, enhancing historical narratives’ credibility using archaeological and philological evidence. He relied on biblical narratives as historical reference points while employing contemporary archaeological discoveries to ground his claims, thus establishing a tradition that would influence subsequent Jewish and Zionist historiographies.
Stage in the West
In the period preceding the professionalization and specialization of historical disciplines, notable efforts were made to catalog the comprehensive history of the Jews. Two prominent works emerged during this time: Ze’ev Yavetz’s “The Book of the History of Israel” and Salo Wittmayer Baron’s “A Social and Religious History of the Jews.” Yavetz, a Zionist rabbi, adhered closely to biblical narratives, while Baron, an immigrant in the United States and a holder of the first academic chair in Jewish history, offered a more nuanced perspective. His work, initially published in 1937 and revised in 1952, differed from prevailing Zionist historiography by embracing a perspective that recognized the diaspora as a vital part of Jewish history rather than a narrative strictly focused on re-establishing ancient sovereignty in Israel.
Baron’s work was distinguished by its vibrant depiction of Jewish communities globally, avoiding a generalized lamentation over their historical conditions. Yet, when discussing the origins of the Jewish people, Baron maintained reliance on pre-nationalist, biblical frameworks reminiscent of Graetz and Dubnow. He noted an increased scholarly inclination to credit biblical records as historical, thus sidelining previous critical philological work. By integrating recent archaeological findings with biblical narratives, Baron endorsed a historical narrative of the Jews that nearly mirrored Old Testament accounts, stripped of miracles and religious sermons, but built upon a proto-nationalist discourse.
Baron also viewed Jewish history through an ethnicist lens, identifying the Hebrew exodus from Egypt as the inception of a unifying “ethnic” nationality. Unlike Wellhausen’s criticism of the cultural capacity of nomadic societies to conceive monotheism, Baron posited that the Hebrews had an advanced culture in Egypt, evidenced by their interaction with Akhenaton’s reformist monotheism. Moses, he argued, presented an original religious structure adaptable to a nomadic lifestyle, unbound to a particular land or sovereign rule. Consequently, less emphasis was placed on the political dynamics of the Jewish kingdom’s formation and dissolution, allowing for more sociological analysis despite source limitations.
Baron delineated an alternative Jewish historiography, emphasizing the dispersion’s role in defining Jewish identity, which he considered more as an ethnic consciousness rather than purely religious or secular. His narrative recognized the importance of ethnic continuity amid dispersion, which was safeguarded by isolationist measures from leaders like Ezra and Nehemiah, suggesting their actions benefited the preservation and resilience of Jewish identity. His work maintained an ambiguous definition of ethnicity, avoiding outright conflict with contemporary scholars and readers, which allowed him to present the Jews as a distinct but integrative ethnic group within broader societies like the United States.
Ultimately, Baron’s historical perspective lacked a clear nationalist aim, a point that drew criticisms from some contemporaries seeking a definitive political or teleological narrative for Jewish history that would stress sovereignty or a return to ancestral lands. His balanced approach preserved the unique aspects of Jewish identity, enriched by universal humanist ideals, without succumbing to external nationalist pressures. He believed Jewish history could continue as a sacred endeavor capable of maintaining Jewish identity irrespective of its religious origins, asserting that history itself could fulfill the role once reserved for religious study in solidifying Jewish cultural continuity.
First Steps in Zion
In the 1930s, when Salo Wittmayer Baron’s “A Social and Religious History of the Jews” was published, Yitzhak Baer, a historian at Hebrew University in Jerusalem, critiqued his work for failing to capture the organic forces within Jewish history that arose in biblical times and persisted through the ages. Baer, influenced by German academic traditions, advocated an “organic” approach to Jewish history, viewing it as a continuous sequence that intertwines from biblical times to the present, and emphasized the need to rediscover those innate forces to truly comprehend Jewish history. However, Baer felt Baron overly romanticized the diaspora and missed the historical Jewish longing for their homeland and sovereignty.
In Baer’s seminal work, “Galut” (Hebrew for “exile”), published in Nazi Germany, he set forth fundamental ideas on Jewish history that have influenced modern Jewish historical consciousness. He proposed that every nation, including the Jews, has a God-given place, and for the Jews, this is Palestine. According to Baer, the diaspora is unnatural, and the Jews’ historical narrative reflects a unique national unity and a pre-European national consciousness, highlighted in their sacred biblical origins that predates European histories. This deep connection to the biblical land was central to Baer’s historiographical outlook.
Baer’s views on historiography also reflect a reaction against the ideologies of the time, particularly those seen in Germany, where many historians supported the new Nazi regime. His thinking was shaped by his experiences in Nazi Germany and the Zionist goals of reclaiming a national identity for Jews. This backdrop provided a deeper layer of narrative that connected the Jewish past with Zionist aspirations, leading to a strong emphasis on returning to the Jewish homeland and creating a modern Israeli national identity.
In 1936, in Mandatory Palestine, academic structures within Hebrew University established separate departments for Jewish History and Sociology and general History. Though initially opposed, Baer later welcomed this division, aligning with his views on distinct Jewish history. At the same time, Baer, with Ben-Zion Dinur, helped launch “Zion,” a seminal periodical in Jewish historical discourse that would shape Jewish historiography in both Mandate-era and independent Israel. It reflected an emphasis on Jewish history’s unique aspects, distinct from general historical narratives, which aligned with the strong nationalist teleology.
Baer’s emphasis on biblical history as the foundation of Jewish historical consciousness permeated his teaching and research. He believed that the early biblical era was central to understanding Jewish history’s later developments, seeing it as a crucial model for Jewish historical evolution. Although Baer did not specialize in early history, focusing more on medieval and Hasmonean periods, he recognized the foundational myths’ importance in Jewish identity, particularly in a young Israel attempting to forge a cohesive national history.
Dinur, overcoming Baer’s more cautious stance, played a more assertive role in cementing Zionist historiography in Israel’s academic and educational settings. Through his academic and political activities, Dinur shaped Jewish historical studies and the development of a national consciousness closely tied to the Land of Israel. He compiled a comprehensive narrative that tied different historical episodes into a coherent story, reinforcing the connection between modern Israeli national identity and its biblical roots.
Dinur’s writings emphasized the connection between Jews and their ancient homeland, portraying the Bible not as divine revelation but as a historical testament corroborating Jewish claims to the land of Israel. His work exemplified the transformation of the Bible into a national history, supporting the Zionist project of reclaiming and settling the land. By drawing from biblical scripture, Dinur affirmed the historical and national continuity of the Jewish people, placing their special national identity within the context of their ancestral lands, a notion central to the broader Zionist historiography cultivated by Israeli historians in the mid-20th century.
Politics and Archaeology
During the 1950s, Ben-Gurion, Israel’s first Prime Minister, actively engaged in a Bible study group that met at his residence, showing his keen interest in the Bible’s potential as a political tool. Recognizing the power of biblical imagery, he aimed to transform the sacred text into a secular national narrative that could unify the diverse immigrant population of Israel and instill a sense of historical connection to the land among the younger generation. He often drew parallels between contemporary political actions and biblical events, likening himself and other leaders of the Zionist revolution to ancient heroes like Moses and Joshua.
Ben-Gurion’s Bible study group included notable historians, biblical scholars, and political figures who used their discussions to shape academic research and public opinion. The group, which included Dinur and other influential figures like Yehezkel Kaufmann and Binyamin Mazar, debated issues such as the Exodus and the conquest of Canaan, often focusing on the Book of Joshua. Their discussions were part of a broader effort to promote archaeology and biblical studies, using these disciplines to bolster the Zionist narrative and assert historical claims to the land.
The Prime Minister’s involvement in historiographic issues underscored the centrality of biblical mythistory in constructing Zionist ideology. Ben-Gurion’s writings reveal his view of the Bible as not only a spiritual document but also an identity card for Jewish people, proving their historical claim to the Land of Israel. He believed that the return of Jews to their ancient land would allow for a true understanding of the Bible’s historical and cultural significance, as opposed to interpretations distorted by centuries of exile.
Ben-Gurion developed his own theories regarding biblical history, suggesting, for example, that monotheistic Hebrews had lived in Canaan before Abraham’s arrival and that only a small group went to Egypt. These ideas underscored his nationalistic perspective and aligned with the prevailing Zionist historiography. He maintained a preference for biblical accounts over external archaeological data unless the latter directly challenged the former, demonstrating a selective and nationalistic approach to historical evidence.
The early years of the Israeli state saw a cultural emphasis on the Bible as a cornerstone for national identity, with civil servants changing names to Hebrew ones often drawn from biblical figures, and new settlements adopting ancient Hebrew names. This practice helped erase local Arab names and forge a direct link between the modern state and its biblical past, skipping over centuries of diaspora existence. The educational system, too, highlighted the Bible as a national textbook, aiming to create a cohesive historical consciousness among Israeli youth.
Moshe Dayan’s “Living with the Bible” illustrates how the first generation of native-born Israelis identified closely with biblical narratives. Dayan, a prominent military leader, presented his personal stories alongside biblical accounts, suggesting an eternal continuity between ancient and modern Israel. His work exemplified the integration of historical myth with the political aims of a settler society, reinforcing notions of national permanence and territorial entitlement rooted in biblical history.
Archaeologists like Yigael Yadin played a significant role in supporting Zionist narratives through their work, often aligning archaeological findings with biblical texts. Their excavations and discoveries, presented as validating the biblical story, helped cement the idea of historical Jewish continuity in the land. This approach often neglected non-Jewish historical periods in the region, favoring narratives that reinforced Jewish historical claims and nationalistic goals, as exemplified by influential works like Aharoni’s “Atlas of the Bible.” These narratives were instrumental in shaping modern Israeli identity and political discourse, particularly after the territorial expansions following the Six-Day War.
Rebels against Myth-History
The war of 1967 expanded the scope of Israeli archaeology, enabling researchers to explore newly conquered territories in the West Bank, including areas of biblical significance. This initially fueled a nationalistic fervor among many Israeli archaeologists who believed their work would substantiate biblical narratives. However, as excavations continued, especially in the central highlands and around Jerusalem, findings began to contradict established biblical accounts, causing unease in the previously accepted mythistory. Over time, changing perspectives in historical research and shifts in Israel’s national consciousness facilitated a reassessment of these early archaeological interpretations.
During the 1960s and 1970s, the shift in global archaeological practice from a focus on political historiography to a broader examination of social and cultural lifestyles also influenced Israeli archaeology. Many younger archaeologists began to move away from traditional, event-centric approaches, adopting social-anthropological methodologies to explore the lived experiences and material cultures of ancient civilizations. The outbreak of the First Intifada in 1987 and subsequent shifts towards greater critical openness in Israeli society encouraged scientists to question previously accepted narratives and propose new archaeological interpretations.
The historical timelines of biblical accounts, like the time of the Patriarchs and the Exodus from Egypt, were deeply scrutinized. Issues arose, such as the mentioned populations and camels that did not align with archaeological evidence of the time. Non-Israeli scholars suggested these stories were late literary creations rather than historical accounts, implying a need to reconsider the biblical narratives as ideological constructs rather than factual histories. These reinterpretations challenged the deep-rooted belief in the stories’ historical authenticity, shifting focus from a literal to a more symbolic reading of biblical texts.
The storied grandeur of the united kingdom of David and Solomon, long considered the pinnacle of Jewish historical glory, was also questioned. New archaeological investigations in Jerusalem and other historically significant sites undermined the grandiose depictions of a unified monarchy. Evidence suggested that if a Davidic kingdom existed, it was smaller and less influential than portrayed, likely overshadowed by the northern kingdom of Israel. A growing number of Israeli and international archaeologists concluded that many stories from the Bible might not be historical records but late fabrications to inspire national unity and identity. Despite these scholarly advancements, Israeli society persisted in clinging to traditional narratives, reflecting the complex interplay between archaeology, national identity, and collective memory.
Bible as a Metaphor
The authorship and origin of the Bible have been debated since the seventeenth century, evolving from the belief that Moses wrote the Pentateuch to modern theories attributing most of its composition to the Persian or even Hellenistic periods. Although philology and archaeology have advanced our understanding, certainty about when the Bible was written and by whom remains elusive. The Tel Aviv school, led by scholars like Nadav Na’aman and Israel Finkelstein, suggests the Bible’s historical core was composed during King Josiah’s reign, not before the eighth century BCE. While they argue convincingly that the Bible has little factual basis, their assumptions about Josiah’s influence are seen as anachronistic.
Books like “The Bible Unearthed” by Finkelstein and Silberman portray societal unification efforts by King Josiah using the Torah as a tool for nationalism, despite lacking extrabiblical evidence for such reforms. They suggest a modern political system where a king aligns his people through a constructed history. However, scholars argue that in an ancient illiterate society, such narratives rely too heavily on modern parallels of governance and communication, leading to misleading interpretations of the past.
The origins of monotheism and the influence of the Bible are better explained through cultural interactions following political disruptions, specifically during the exile and return periods. This environment allowed Judean intellectuals to creatively engage with abstract religious ideas, possibly influenced by Persian thought, with monotheistic beliefs slowly developing throughout subsequent encounters with Hellenism. This hypothesis sees the Bible as a rich cultural product rather than a political tool for territorial expansion.
The Copenhagen-Sheffield school offers a more convincing interpretation of the Bible as a collection of theological and philosophical reflections, evolving over centuries. This viewpoint frames the text as a multi-layered narrative containing parables and myths to forge a coherent religious identity and future for the Jerusalem cult. The authors created a unique “Israel” identity by distinguishing it from the surrounding Canaanites, aligning with Persian policies promoting cultural and class separation for administrative control.
Over time, the Bible has transitioned from a divinely inspired text to a nationalist symbol, restructing these traditions into an imagined historical foundation for modern Jewish identity. By the late nineteenth century, Jewish enlightenment and nationalism transformed the Bible into a foundational mythistory, a secular yet sacred text serving as a touchstone for Jewish identity amid modern upheavals. Its influence persists in education and identity, providing a deep-rooted sense of belonging. The Bible, through its legendary narratives, became a metaphorical link to an eternal past, shaping collective consciousness and guiding subsequent generations, particularly in the context of nation-building and cultural continuity.