Queries & Comments

008

Create a Fake

Brilliant!!!!

Jehoash Tablet

Fails the “Smell Test”

Though a recent subscriber, I have already learned to approach your magazine with a grain of salt. But after reading “Demonstrably a Forgery” [summarizing the views of Professor Frank Moore Cross of Harvard University on the “Jehoash Inscription” (“The Paleographer: Demonstrably a Forgery,” BAR 29:03)], I now require a clothespin because my crap-o-meter routinely leaves the chart. When I subscribed to BAR, I knew you didn’t actually believe in the Bible, but I hoped you would not be openly hostile to it. I do realize the “Yehoash inscription” is not the Bible; however, you’ve made abundantly clear the problem it poses to your worldview should its authenticity go unchallenged.

You really went over the top with your offer of $10,000 to anyone who can fake an inscription. (“Create a Fake and Win $10,000,” BAR 29:02) Can one even conceive of the art world making the same offer? I couldn’t believe it! It was as if I was reading a bad parody from Mad magazine rather than a respected publication from the halls of academia. Give me a break. It’s apparent that your idealism has long been supplanted by your ego, and I’m no longer willing to devote time to your rag.

It Takes One to Know One

As multinational corporations use experienced hackers to help plug network security holes, and as professional boxers use talented sparring partners to stay on top of their game, so professional archaeologists must employ savvy forgers and hoaxers to protect themselves—as well as the public—from the dangers of genuine forgers and hoaxers. A one-time contest is not enough (“Create a Fake and Win $10,000,” BAR 29:03). Required coursework in forgery and fakery would nicely complement the education of the archaeologists venturing forth into this brave new world of sophisticated technology—technology as enabling to their mischievous adversaries as it is to themselves.

An Ancient Replica?

Regarding the Jehoash tablet, I would be interested in the thoughts of your linguistic experts on an alternative explanation to that of a modern-day forgery—that the inscription was made during the Second Temple period. In modern times, when an important building is restored, it is common to recreate central symbols of that building. Thus, it would not be surprising if Second Temple builders, upon completion of the building, might have inscribed a replica of what must have been a known and 009important inscription from the First Temple. This may explain the letters and phraseology that are more typical of later Hebrew, and account for the carbon-14 dating of the inscription to the Second Temple period.

Edward Greenstein, professor of Biblical Studies, Tel Aviv University, responds:

In my brief article I had anticipated the sort of explanation that Dr. Hirsch proposes. I find the explanation highly unlikely. From a paleographic viewpoint, the letters on the inscription are a mishmash of different scripts and not a reflection of the orderly paleo-Hebrew script that developed in Second Temple times. From a linguistic viewpoint, the awkwardness of the syntax does not reflect later Hebrew but rather poor Hebrew. We know from the Biblical and post-Biblical books originating in the Persian and Hellenistic periods that professional scribes could write an elegant Hebrew. While some of the anachronistic language was indeed used in the Second Temple period, other phrases seem not yet to have acquired the meaning that is assumed in the inscription. Since the charring dated by the carbon-14 test to the Second Temple period could have been faked, I think we can safely conclude that the inscription is a modern forgery.

BDQ: Repair or Fissure?

One of the arguments against the authenticity of the Jehoash inscription stems from the analysis of the Hebrew root bdq. It occurs in the inscription as part of the phrase “vaa’as et bdq habayit,” or “I carried out the bdq of the House,” implying that the author understood bdq to be the equivalent of “repair.” However, as both Frank Moore Cross and Edward Greenstein point out, bdq, as used in 2 Kings 12, cannot logically be associated with “repair.” There bdq occurs in phrases like “strengthen the bdq” and, even more tellingly, in verse 6, “…and they will strengthen the bdq of the House anywhere a bdq is found.” Substituting “repair” for bdq does not make sense, and it is more logical to translate bdq as a fissure or some other structural fault. Cross and Greenstein conclude that the forger misunderstood the Biblical text he was trying to imitate and used bdq in the wrong sense. Greenstein further conjectures that the forger is a speaker of modern Hebrew and has been influenced by the current expression “bdq of the house,” which means “putting one’s house in order” and which, according to Greenstein, dates back to Mishnaic times (first-second centuries C.E.).

However, the only other time the root bdq appears in the Bible (outside of 2 Kings 12) is in 2 Chronicles 34:10. The context is a later retrofit of the Temple instigated by King Josiah. It tells of money that was given to the laborers who “work in the House of the Lord livdoq and to strengthen it.” “Livdoq” is the infinitive form of bdq, used here as a transitive verb. The usage is exactly the opposite of 2 Kings 12: It is obvious that livdoq means “to repair,” or something close, and it is impossible to render it as a “fissure” or “fault.” Thus the use of bdq as “repair” dates back to the time of Chronicles—certainly earlier than Mishnaic times. While this does not invalidate the forgery theory, it makes it much more probable that bdq was used in both senses—“repair” and “fault”—quite early, perhaps even in ninth-century B.C.E. Hebrew, and that the forger—if there is one—hews more closely to the Biblical text than he is given credit for.

Edward Greenstein responds:

Let me compliment Mr. Konrad for doing his homework on the Biblical term bedeq, which literally means “fissure” and not “repair.” The Bible expresses the notion of repairing the Temple with the phrase lehazzeq ’et bedeq habbayit, which literally means “to strengthen the fissure of the house” (that is, to reinforce the cracked structure). Mr. Konrad points to the single occurrence of the related verb badaq, where it is used in the sense of making repairs.

There are two points I would like to make in response. First, the Hebrew of Chronicles, which we call Late Biblical Hebrew, is from a markedly later period than the Hebrew of the time of King Jehoash. It reflects the influence of Aramaic and shows other signs of development. Second and more important, one needs to distinguish between the basic, literal meaning of a term and the way that it later comes to be translated idiomatically. The verb badaq may indeed be translated today as “to repair,” but as a comparison with Akkadian bataqu shows, the root meaning is “to break off, divide” (see the Chicago Assyrian Dictionary, B volume, pp. 161–165). The still standard Hebrew and English Lexicon by F. Brown, S.R. Driver, and C.A. Briggs (1907, p. 96) correctly characterizes the verb badaq as denominative, that is, derived secondarily from the noun bedeq, meaning “fissure.” The root meaning of the verb is “to go into the fissure” or “to treat the fissure,” which is a locution with the sense of doing a repair on the fissure. The verb itself, however, does not mean literally “to repair” and one should not deduce that the noun bedeq in Biblical Hebrew means “repair.”

It is really past time that we accept the fact that the Jehoash tablet is a fake. The Israel Antiquities Authority committee, which included archaeological geologists as well as philologists and paleographers, has unanimously concluded that it is clearly a forgery. When we are confronted by a piece of difficult language in an authentic text, we need to struggle with it. We should not be spending our time making excuses for fictitious forms.

The editors add:

For more on the committee’s findings, see our coverage elsewhere in this issue. For one scholars argument that, based on Akkadian cognates, the use of bedeq in the Jehoash inscription is acceptable, see “What About the Jehoash Inscription?”—Ed.

Ancient Israel Review

Asking the Wrong Question

I enjoyed Alex Joffe’s blistering and elegant review of Ancient Israel (“Review Damns BAS’s Ancient Israel,” BAR 29:03). Of course, I differ with his characterization of the chapter on the Patriarchs (which I revised from P. Kyle McCarter’s original) as “archaic and almost quaint.” I would ask why Joffe thinks it illegitimate to ask historical questions of a culture’s narratives of its past. Surely genealogical narratives of other tribal cultures have various degrees of relation to history—why not ancient Israel’s? If this task is difficult and littered with past failures, so be it. But to deny that Israel’s memories of its past “can be discussed historically” is puzzling. The real issue is not whether it can be done, but whether it can be done well.

As for Joffe’s complaint, “Albright lives,” I would say that he lives best through the rigorous scholarship of his academic heirs, among whom is the estimable Alex Joffe.

010

Three Cheers for Albright

My goodness, Professor Joffe must have to live on antacid pills. Such vitriol!

I revere Albright for three things that some scholars lack. He was so enthusiastic and knowledgeable in so many fields, traits missing in this day of specialization. He didn’t mind listening to the ideas of others. He didn’t have trouble admitting that he might have been wrong about something. I’m happy he still lives!

Are the Minimalists Objective?

Alexander H. Joffe asserts that religious devotion clouds the scholarship of the authors of Ancient Israel. He asks us to accept his tidy premise that only those for whom the historicity of the Hebrew Bible is a matter of complete indifference may be trusted to produce objective scholarship. Alas, where are we to find such independent minds? Is it not just possible that the scholarship of Joffe and the Biblical minimalists he recommends is also influenced by philosophical agendas? One would have to be credulous indeed to exclude this possibility.

Sour Grapes

Mr. Shanks has overreacted to the biased, negative opinions of an elitist reviewer.

This “review” should be given the limited attention it deserves and filed under “Sour Grapes.” Joffe has not reviewed the book, but has chosen to ridicule the continuing search for “historical kernels” and the authors who seek these kernels—in short, he has reviewed the authors.

Joffe Did You a Favor

Joffe makes clear that your book, Ancient Israel, considers the Bible to have historical value. Is this bad? Has this approach been discredited? Is it illogical? There is even more illogical thinking in those who take the rigid stance that “the Bible has no historical value.”

I’m not sure that his review “damns BAS’s Ancient Israel.” Joffe may have done you a favor. My copy is on order today.

011

Ancient Coins

Flipped over Coins

I thoroughly enjoyed “Spending Your Way Through Jewish History” (BAR 29:03). The subject of ancient coins seemed to me so involved and so immense that I never would have picked up a book to learn more about it. But Brenner’s article was so clear and well-illustrated that it may have sparked an interest in me. I would like to see similar articles on, say, ceramic types, which again is a field so vast and complex that I would not even know how to get my feet wet. You can never know how many potential archaeologists might have their curiosity piqued by your pages.

A Missed First

In your collection of coin “firsts” you overlooked a big one: the first Roman coin struck in Judea. Coins minted in Judea by Roman officials start in 6 A.D. See Andrew Burnett, Roman Provincial Coinage (British Museum Press, 1992), no. 4954 (note that his supplemental volume corrects a typographical error in his original volume—the coin in fact reads “Year 36 of Caesar,” i.e. the 36th year after Actium, or 5/6 A.D.).

More on the Philip Coin

I would like to point out a number of errors regarding the coin of Philip, son of Herod (“Spending Your Way Through Jewish History” BAR 29:03).

The date should be 1 C.E., not 5 C.E. The date appears on the obverse of some coins as “LE” (year five)—the fifth year of Philip’s rule (which began in 4 B.C.E., after Herod’s death). Philip issued coins in eight different years in response to key political events, but none in 5 C.E. This particular coin was likely minted in response to the dedication of the town Caesarea Philippi and its temple to 012Augustus (in later coins the date appears between the temple columns on the reverse sides).

The reference “first Jewish ruler of Judea” is misleading. Archelaus was the ruler of Judea, who was replaced by a series of Roman procurators after 6 C.E. It is unlikely that Philip’s coins ever circulated in Judea (none have been discovered in archaeological sites in Judea), where Archelaus and the procurators issued their own coins.

“Not known” is given as the denomination. Ya’akov Meshorer (A Treasury of Jewish Coins [2001], pages 89–90), does point out the lack of certainty concerning denominations of these coins; however, he suggests that this particular coin (#96 in his catalogue) corresponds to the “musmis” or 1/48th of a dinar. In the same year, 1 C.E., Philip also issued a larger denomination coin that portrayed Augustus on the obverse and Philip on the reverse.

A Little Lost

In an otherwise fascinating article, Sandy Brenner’s historical background on Herod Philip goes awry with fuzzy geography. Philip is referred to, first, as ruler “over the Galilee,” and then in the next sentence as ruler “of Judea.” He ruled neither. Luke 3:1 and Josephus (Antiquities 17:189; War 2:95, 247) together mention six place-names—Iturea, Trachonitis, Gaulonitis, Paneas, Batanea and Auranitis—in connection with Philip’s tetrarchy, all denoting lands on the northeast quadrant of the Sea of Galilee and stretching toward Damascus. It was Philip’s brother Antipas who reigned as tetrarch of Galilee (west of the Jordan River). Another brother, Archelaus, was ethnarch over Judea-Samaria, until Rome assumed direct rule there through a series of Roman governors beginning in 6 A.D.

Sandy Brenner responds:

As Mr. Powers’s letter notes, Philip’s territory did border on the Sea of Galilee. He is also correct in pointing out that it was Antipas who reigned as tetrarch of Galilee as well as Perea, and that Archelaus was ethnarch over Judea and Samaria. His geographic clarification adds valuable detail and specificity to the brief mention in the article.

Kathleen Kenyon

Capital Question

Am I seeing double? The two proto-Aeolic capitals pictured in separate articles on pages 19 and 56 of the May/June 2003 issue appear identical, yet they are from separate locations and time periods. (Strata and “The Mistress of Stratigraphy Had Clay Feet” BAR 29:03) What is the significance of this?

We spoke with archaeologist Gabriel Barkay, who told us that proto-Aeolic capitals had a long history of use: One example, found at Megiddo, dates to the tenth century B.C.; another, in central Italy, dates to the sixth century B.C. There is some debate about the proto-Aeolic capital found by Kathleen Kenyon in Jerusalem (shown in “The Mistress of Stratigraphy Had Clay Feet” BAR 29:03). Kenyon believed it dated to the tenth century B.C. Yigal Shiloh, who excavated in Jerusalem after Kenyon, believed it dated to the ninth century B.C. But Barkay dates it to the eighth century B.C., which is the same date he assigns to the other proto-Aeolic capital we published, the one from Ramat Rachel, south of Jerusalem.—Ed.

Qumran Cemetery

In “Whose Bones?” (BAR 29:01) Magen Broshi and Hanan Eshel describe a mourning enclosure in a prime location in the Qumran cemetery, containing the burial of a first century A.D. man oriented east-west. Following Joe Zias, they wrote that all 54 east-west burials at Qumran, except for the one inside the mourning enclosure, were Bedouin burials from recent centuries, making the orientation of the man unique among the nearly 1200 ancient burials in the cemetery. The article drew a response from Joan Taylor of Waikato University in New Zealand (Queries & Comments, BAR 29:03), in which Taylor took issue with the claim regarding the east-west burials. Broshi and Eshel, together with their colleague Brian Schultz, now respond to Taylor.—Ed.

They’re Bedouin Burials

Joan Taylor’s reservation about the Bedouin identification of the east-west 013tombs at Qumran is unjustified. While it is beyond our ability to evaluate Joe Zias’s osteological conclusions, we nevertheless believe that his conclusions are the most consistent with the available date. Bedouin burials, like Muslim burials in general, are east-west; they are otherwise architecturally similar to the Qumran north-south burials dating from the Second Temple period. Insertion of Muslim burials into an already seemingly full cemetery is a known practice, as documented at Tel Gat, Tel Zeror and Tel el-Hesi. Furthermore, the jewelry found at these cemeteries is similar to the jewelry found in three of the east-west tombs at Qumran. Without further data (such as carbon-14 tests) that can prove otherwise, the identification of these burials as Bedouin is the most reasonable conclusion.

Taylor has cast doubt on this identification by using several arguments. She draws attention to Solomon Steckoll’s Grave 10, which is east-west, but then confuses it with Roland de Vaux’s Tomb 4, another east-west tomb. T4 was dug in November 1951, while G10 was dug in early 1967. Furthermore, Steckoll’s publications are known to be fraught with difficulties, and it is questionable to what extent his data can be trusted. Taylor suggests that among east-west burials one should differentiate between deep graves with loculi and shallow graves without loculi. While it is true that Muslim burials are traditionally shallower than the average Qumran burials, this is not necessarily always the case. For example, some Muslim burials at Tel el-Hesi reached a depth of 5 feet, similar to the burial depths of several tombs at Qumran that are believed to be from the Second Temple period. Neither is the presence of a loculus an indicator of Second Temple-period burials, since they are known to have been also used by Muslims in Palestine and Arabia. Finally, Taylor points to the east-west burial in Tomb 1000, the mourning enclosure we excavated. It is true that the pottery in this tomb dates it to the Second Temple period. However, the exceptional nature of this burial—its isolation from the rest of the cemetery and its being enclosed in the sole building of the cemetery—precludes it from being used for comparison purposes.

While the case—that the east-west burials are Bedouin—is not proven, it remains nonetheless the most reasonable, as well as prudent, conclusion.

Create a Fake

Brilliant!!!!