Heritage and Hellenism: The Reinvention of Jewish Tradition

Heritage and Hellenism

THE S. MARK TAPER FOUNDATION

IMPRINT IN JEWISH STUDIES

BY THIS ENDOWMENT

THE S. MARK TAPER FOUNDATION SUPPORTS

THE APPRECIATION AND UNDERSTANDING

OF THE RICHNESS AND DIVERSITY OF

JEWISH LIFE AND CULTURE

Heritage and Hellenism

The Reinvention of Jewish Tradition

Erich S. Gruen

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA PRESS

Berkeley Los Angeles London

The publisher gratefully acknowledges

the contribution toward the publication

of this book provided by

the S. Mark Taper Foundation

University of California Press

Berkeley and Los Angeles, California

University of California Press, Ltd.

London, England

First paperback printing 2002

© 1998 by

The Regents of the University of California

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Gruen, Erich S.

Heritage and hellenism: the reinvention of Jewish tradition / Erich S. Gruen.

p. cm. — (Hellenistic culture and society; 30)

Includes bibliographical references and index.

ISBN 0-520-23506-1 (pbk.: alk. paper)

1. Judaism—History—Post-exilic period, 586 B.C-210 A.D.

2. Greek literature—Jewish authors—History and criticism.

3. Judaism—Apologetic works—History and criticism. 4. Hellenism.

I. Title. II. Series.

BM176.G78 1998

296’.09'014—dc21 97-38808

CIP

Printed in the United States of America

09 08 07 06 05 04 03 02

9⁸7θ543² ¹

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of

ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (R 1997) (Permanence of Paper).

Manibus matris

CONTENTS 1

CONTENTS 1

PREFACE

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER 1 Hellenism and the Hasmonaeans

CHAPTER 2 The Use and Abuse of the Exodus Story

CHAPTER 3 The Hellenistic Images of Joseph

CHAPTER 4 Scriptural Stories in New Guise

CHAPTER 5 Embellishments and Inventions

CHAPTER 6 Kings and Jews

CHAPTER 7 Pride and Precedence

Conclusion

ABBREVIATIONS

BIBLIOGRAPHY

INDEX

PREFACE

The intellectual odyssey of this book is readily discernible. During the past decade and more my research has concentrated upon the cultural connections between Greek and Roman societies, particularly in the era of the Hellenistic world and the Roman Republic. Two previous books explored a range of modes through which Rome appropriated Hellenism in order to reconstitute its own cultural identity. That line of investigation led naturally to a parallel question about the role of Hellenism in the reshaping of Jewish identity in this same era. The topic, a familiar one to many scholars of Jewish history, has received far less attention from those who come to it from a background in the Classics. I issued a call for multicultural studies of this sort in a presidential address to the American Philological Association in 1992, published in TAPA (1993), 1-14. It proved a useful prod to practice what I preached.

The experience has been a most salutary one. I have gained familiarity with whole areas of learning that were new to me, a range of new texts and issues, and, not least, a new and stimulating group of professional acquaintances. Some Israeli friends have twitted me for approaching the subject from the skewed perspective of a liberal, secular, diaspora Jew. I plead guilty to the characterization; others can judge how skewed is the perspective.

The book could not possibly have come into being without generous support from research grants. The National Endowment for the Humanities supplied a most welcome second award at a period when its funds were under siege from hostile lawmakers. A sabbatical leave from the University of California, Berkeley, afforded a vital stretch of time for uninterrupted research and writing. And I had the great good fortune to be named Winston Fellow in the Institute for Advanced Studies at the Hebrew University, Jerusalem, where, in the period from January to June, 1996, I was able to complete most of the book. The group brought together in Jerusalem under the rubric The Meeting of Cultures in the Hellenistic-Roman World and organized by Uriel Rappaport and Israel Shatzman could not have provided a more bracing—and congenial—environment. I owe much to the interchanges with its members, Dan Barag, Joseph Meleze-Modrzejewski, Fergus Millar, Joseph Patrich, Tessa Rajak, Francis Schmidt, and Daniel Schwartz, as well as to the organizers. Others at the Institute, from different fields, added considerably to the richness of my own experience. I note in particular Richard Cohen, Elliott Horowitz, Ezra Mendelsohn, and Vivian Mann. Those six months were also markedly enhanced by the Director David Shulman, the Associate Director Laure Barthel, and their superb staff who were unfailingly courteous, helpful, cheery, and simply a pleasure to work with. The opportunity to be in Israel and to lecture in five different universities allowed me to benefit from a wealth of valuable reactions by expert audiences.

To those who read parts or the whole of the manuscript, my debts are large indeed. Constructive comments and suggestions on individual chapters came from John Barclay, Daniel Boyarin, Shaye Cohen, John Collins, Louis Feldman, Carl Holladay, Aryeh Kasher, Irad Malkin, Tessa Rajak, Uriel Rappaport, Seth Schwartz, and Israel Shatzman. I had the great advantage of seeing the unpublished manuscripts of two books by Bezalel Bar-Kochva, as well as receiving acute remarks on some of my own work by that outstanding scholar. I owe special gratitude for the sharp criticisms by my good friend Doron Mendels which resulted in some very important improvements—though not all that he might wish. Robert Doran read the entire work with keen insight and pointed me in a number of useful directions. Finally, I want to register heartfelt thanks to Daniel Schwartz, a scholar of boundless energy and a wonderful resource of knowledge. He offered much valued advice on individual chapters, then read the whole of the manuscript, and produced a twenty-two page commentary, almost all of which has had a discernible impact on the final version. The fact that he occupied an office next to mine in Jerusalem—and that we share an appreciation for Jewish humor in antiquity—immeasurably benefited my stay.

Research assistants facilitated this task in notable fashion. Miryam Segal, Hamutal Tsamir, and Peter Wyetzner rendered a significant amount of of Hebrew scholarship into intelligible English. The acute and accurate copyediting of Betsy Ditmars saved me from numerous errors. Celina Gray single-handedly accomplished the formidable task of compiling the index and the bibliography. And Mary Lamprech at the University of California Press, with characteristic skill and intelligence, efficiently ushered the manuscript through the publication process.

Berkeley, California

Spring, 1997

INTRODUCTION

The interaction of Jew and Greek in antiquity still weaves a spell, fascinating inquirers and stimulating researchers. The culture of the Hellenes traversed the Mediterranean in the last three centuries before the Common Era. In the lands of the Near East it encountered, among a motley array of nations and societies, the tenacious people of the Book. The Jews clung fast to peculiar practices and sacred scriptures not readily assimilable to the experience of the Greeks. Both civilizations laid claim to great antiquity, their roots stretching back to legendary ancestors and divine sanction. And both carried rich traditions, with a noble heritage that gave special character to their peoples. The encounter inevitably grips the imagination.

Far-reaching consequences followed from that convergence. But the effects were disproportionate and imbalanced. In the wake of Alexander the Great’s triumphant successes, Greeks and Macedonians came as conquerors and settled as ruling classes in the lands of the eastern Mediterranean. Jews endured a subordinate status politically and militarily, a minor nation amidst the powers of the Hellenistic world. For them, the experience was a familiar one. The Jews of Palestine and the Diaspora simply exchanged the suzerainty of the Persian empire for that of Alexander’s successors. The Greeks, secure and content with their legacy, showed little inclination to learn the languages or embrace the cultures of peoples who had come under their authority. Nor did they engage in missionary activity designed to spread Hellenism among the natives. They took their superiority for granted. Those who dwelled in their dominions but without a share of power did not have the same luxury. Hellenic culture, as the stamp of the ascendant classes in many of the cities of the Near East, held widespread attraction and appeal. Jews were certainly not immune. Greeks may have been largely impervious to the precepts and principles of Judaism, but Jews could hardly escape the blandishments of Hellenism. The culture of the dominant party left an enduring mark upon the heirs of Moses.

The process of Hellenization is mysterious and obscure, not easily defined or demonstrated. No one can doubt that Jews of the Diaspora came into close contact with the institutions, language, literature, art, and traditions of Hellas: in cities like Alexandria, Cyrene, Antioch, and Ephesus, even to the point of losing touch with Hebrew. The penetration of Greek culture into Palestine is more controversial. But it flourished in the cities of the coast from Gaza to Akko and in the lower Galilee at the very least, areas well within the reach of the Jews. The degree to which acculturation took place in Judaea itself and the time when it began in earnest elude any certainty. A vital point, however, undergirds the discussion in this book. Judaism and Hellenism were neither competing systems nor incompatible concepts. It would be erroneous to assume that Hellenization entailed encroachment upon Jewish traditions and erosion of Jewish beliefs. Jews did not face a choice of either assimilation or resistance to Greek culture.

A different premise serves as starting point here. We avoid the notion of a zero-sum contest in which every gain for Hellenism was a loss for Judaism or vice-versa. The prevailing culture of the Mediterranean could hardly be ignored or dismissed. But adaptation to it need not require compromise of Jewish precepts or practices. The inquiry can be formulated thus: how did Jews accommodate themselves to the larger cultural world of the Mediterranean while at the same time reasserting the character of their own heritage within it?

Ambiguity adheres to the term Hellenism itself. No pure strain of Greek culture, whatever that might be even in principle, confronted the Jews of Palestine or the Diaspora. Transplanted Greek communities mingled with ancient Phoenician traditions on the Levantine coast, with powerful Egyptian elements in Alexandria, with enduring Mesopotamian institutions in Babylon, and with a complex mixture of societies in Asia Minor. The Greek culture with which Jews came into contact comprised a mongrel entity—or rather entities, with a different blend in each location of the Mediterranean. The convenient term Hellenistic employed here signifies complex amalgamations in the Near East in which the Greek ingredient was a conspicuous presence rather than a monopoly.

Judaism, it need hardly be said, is at least as complex and elastic a term. The institution defies uniform definition. And changes over time, as in all religions, render any effort to capture its essence at a particular moment highly problematic. Hellenistic Judaism must have experienced considerable diversity, quite distinct in Alexandria, Antioch, Babylon, Ephesus, and Jerusalem—also a feature common to most or all religions. Simplistic formulations once in favor are now obsolete. We can no longer contrast Palestinian Judaism as the unadulterated form of the ancestral faith with Hellenistic Judaism as the Diaspora variety that diluted antique practices with alien imports. Hellenism existed in Palestine, and the Jews of the Diaspora still held to their heritage. Each individual area struck its balance differently and experienced its own peculiar level of mixture. The distinctions, to be sure, rarely surface with any clarity in our evidence. But it is essential to emphasize that Jews were not obliged to choose between succumbing or resisting. Nor should one imagine a conscious dilemma whereby they had to decide how far to lean in one direction or other, how much Hellenism was acceptable before they compromised the faith, at what point on the spectrum between apostasy and piety they could comfortably locate themselves. And the idea that some form of syncretism took place, an amalgamation of pagan and Jewish practice or belief, misconceives the process.

An alternative conception is more instructive. Many Diaspora Jews and even some dwelling in Hellenistic cities of Palestine grew up after a generation or two as Greek speakers and integrated members of communities governed by pagan practices and institutions. They did not confront daily decisions on the degree of assimilation. They had long since become part of a Hellenic environment that they could take as a given. But their Judaism remained intact. What they required was a means of defining and expressing their singularity within that milieu, the special characteristics that made them both integral to the community and true to their heritage.

Hellenic influence exhibited itself in a range of realms. Numerous studies have traced the impact of Greek institutions, language, literature, philosophy, historiography, art, material culture, and even religion upon Judaism. The registering of such influences, however, can leave the impression of a somewhat passive receptivity or compliant adjustment on the part of Jewish thinkers to Hellenic culture. This study places the stress elsewhere. Jews engaged actively with the traditions of Hellas, adapting genres and transforming legends to articulate their own legacy in modes congenial to a Hellenistic setting. At the same time they recreated their past, retold stories in different shapes, and amplified the scriptural corpus itself through the medium of the Greek language and Greek literary forms. In a world where Hellenic culture held an ascendant position, Jews strained to develop their own cultural self-definition, one that would give them a place within the broader Mediterranean world and would also establish their distinctiveness. Those twin objectives operated conjointly.

The book endeavors to highlight Jewish creativity, ingenuity, and inventiveness. While making no claim to discovery of these features in Jewish- Hellenistic consciousness, it brings them onto center stage. Writers and thinkers developed literary strategies to redefine their people and its history in terms familiar to contemporary circumstances while simultaneously keeping faith with ancestral practices and belief. This entailed not only the manipulation of Greek forms and the adoption of Greek guises and pseudonyms, but the expansive recasting of biblical traditions to enhance the exploits of ancient heroes and embellish the legendary successes of the nation. The authors, redactors, or interpolators, often anonymous or pseudonymous, remain shadowy figures. But they reflect the creative energies and imaginative powers that characterize much of Jewish-Hellenistic literature. They also exhibit other features generally passed over by solemn scholars: a sardonic wit, mischievous sense of humor, and a pointed irony that not only poked fun at Gentiles but could expose the foibles of Jews themselves.

This work concentrates on fiction, not history—at least in the conventional sense. Its purpose is not to reconstruct the history of the Jews in the Hellenistic era but to examine the reinvention of their own past. Of course, the dichotomy itself is deceptive. Only a fine line divided legend and history in the antique traditions of Greek and Jew alike. Genre categories can too readily delude us. As an example, we customarily label II Maccabees as a work of historiography and the Letter of Aristeas as a fictitious narrative. Yet the first work incorporates transparent inventions and fables while the second is couched as a sober historical presentation. Where on this purported spectrum does one place the story of Alexander the Great’s visit to Jerusalem, ostensibly historical fact but demonstrably fictitious creation? Or, by contrast, the recasting of the Moses tale as tragic drama in Ezekiel’s Exagoge—plainly an imaginative version but reproducing articles of faith? The authors of these and other texts did not set out to deceive, to cloak fabrications as fact or to disguise history as entertainment. The categories converge and overlap. Readers no more confused the tales of the Tobiads with an archival chronicle of that family than they regarded Moses’ elevation to the throne of God in the Exagoge as deriving from a scholarly exegesis of the Bible. Jews tapped a rich vein of legendary materials, both pagan and Jewish. Audiences for the recreations took a broad view, happily absorbing hybrid products that grafted Gentile folktales onto the Scriptures or set fables and fictions into historical contexts. The question of whether such stories were meant to be believed is the wrong one. Readers did not inspect these texts for clues whereby to separate reality from fantasy. Inventiveness enhanced reality rather than substituted for it. Fictive creations can in fact provide the historian with the best insights into the self-perception of Hellenistic Jews striving to articulate their own identity.

The present study does not pretend to provide a comprehensive canvas of Hellenistic Judaism, a subject of vast and unmanageable proportions. Its treatment is selective and focused rather than exhaustive, more a sampling than a survey. But it draws on a wide and diverse array of authors and texts that illuminate the mentality of Jews reexamining their tradition in lands pervaded by Greek culture. The chronological boundaries of the work are fluid rather than fixed. Hellenistic era has different meanings for different researchers. The conventional termini go from Alexander to Actium. But the Jewish experience underwent no sharp break in the age of Augustus, and one can justifiably stretch the period to extend to the destruction of the Temple—or even a bit beyond to encompass Josephus. Chronological fuzziness is, in any case, unavoidable. The extant works (or, more frequently, the extant fragments of works) by Hellenistic Jews rarely yield to precise dating, and the margin of possibilities can spread over two or three centuries. In general, most of the material examined here belongs to what might be termed the Hellenistic rather than the Greco-Roman phase of the Jewish experience, for the focus falls on the strategies whereby Jews endeavored to adjust to the post-Alexander world. But there are no hard and fast frontiers. Philo, for the most part, stands outside the main era under scrutiny, and Josephus beyond its limits, two authors for whom major scholarly industries already exist. Yet Philo will occasionally serve as witness for topics discussed, and Josephus, although he is not himself a subject of inspection, will frequently undergo cross-examination, for he preserves considerable material central to the inquiry. On a rough reckoning, the study pays primary attention to the span that stretches from Alexander’s conquests to the early Roman Empire.

Another matter helps to delimit boundaries. We pursue here the issue of Jewish self-definition in the circumstances of a Hellenic cultural world. Hence the book addresses itself to works composed in Greek, works by Hellenized Jews who employed the language, themes, and genres of the Greeks to express the legacy of their nation and who imposed their own invented past upon Hellenic history. This by no means implies that Jews who wrote in Hebrew or Aramaic in this era lacked comparable creative skills or imaginative powers. Indeed a wealth of writings in those languages exhibit the latitude available for revamping familiar tales and fashioning new fables. One need mention only the Assumption of Moses and Jubilees in the first category, Judith and Tobit in the second. And the Dead Sea Scrolls have revealed further instances in both brackets, such as the Genesis Apocryphon and the Aramaic I Enoch. Limitations of space and competence, however, confine attention to compositions in Greek. Here again the restriction is neither absolute nor rigid. The material includes select writings whose original language may have been Semitic but which were translated or recast into Greek, as well as some preserved now in other languages but plainly based on Greek originals. And comparisons, background, or implications require occasional reference also to texts in Hebrew or Aramaic—for which this study is heavily indebted to the good offices of friends, colleagues, and students conversant with the languages.

The selected segment may or may not be representative. Too many gaps in our knowledge prohibit confidence. Even within the limits set forth, however, a striking range and variety of components greet the researcher. The book explores works by Jewish historians, epic poets, tragic dramatists, writers of romance and novels, exegetes, philosophers, apocalyptic visionaries, and composers of fanciful fables—not to mention pseudonymous forgers and fabricators. It encompasses retelling of biblical stories, remaking of biblical figures, and accretions to the Scriptures, as well as recreations of the Greek past to incorporate the imaginary or enhanced exploits of Jews.

The approach adopted here differs from that of many modern treatments. It does not provide piecemeal analysis of writer after writer, text after text organized by genre, offering conjectures on the date and provenance of each author, the Sitz-im-Leben of the compositions, the circumstances that called forth the works. Scholarship has made important advances on these matters but repeatedly runs into frustration. Lack of adequate evidence leaves numerous and critical uncertainties. Chronology can only be approximate, location at best plausible, and motivation largely guesswork. And the questions themselves may be off the mark. The texts as we possess them have often gone through several versions or redactions, earlier renditions lost, subject to multiple manipulation, with authors usually anonymous or concealed under pseudonyms. To ferret out particular purposes or pinpoint dates of composition is, for the most part, an illusory exercise. And it may also be inconsequential. What matters is not so much when, where, why, or by whom an individual text was drafted but the fact that these works were read, cited, excerpted, and expanded over the course of several generations. This sets them outside the narrow confines of composition (even if those confines could be determined) and demands a broader perspective. The book treats topics that span much of the chronological spectrum, drawing on relevant texts where appropriate and calling upon them in several contexts rather than discussing them separately and singly. But all of them speak, in one way or another, to the ongoing process whereby diverse Jewish thinkers endeavored to express their people’s identity in terms borrowed, manipulated, and refashioned from the Hellenic cultural corpus.

The age of the Maccabees conventionally occupies a central place in this subject. Jewish rebellion against the harsh impositions of the persecutor Antiochus IV led to a shaking off of the Hellenic yoke and the emergence of an autonomous state under the Hasmonaean dynasty. This clash supplies the locus classicus for a fundamental split between Judaism and Hellenism. Or so we are told. The idea is examined afresh here. A very different portrait emerges, suggesting that the division is artificial and that the Hasmonaean era in fact provided an atmosphere even in Palestine conducive to Jewish reconceptualization in Hellenic terms.

This work explores the reconceptualization on several fronts. The Exodus story itself, the very heart of the Jews’ understanding of their past, the origin of their nation, and their relations with Gentiles, underwent notable transformation in the Hellenistic era. The Jews did not refrain from tampering even with their central myth in the light of experiences in a changed world. And that was only the beginning. Ancient Hebrew heroes appear in new guises and new circumstances. The multiple treatments of Joseph, in every variety of literary exercise, present an instructive illustration. Hellenistic Jews found no inconsistency between regarding the Scriptures as Holy Writ and rewriting them to their own taste. Some of them sought simply to explain incongruities, others to abbreviate tales, thus making them more pointed or omitting unpalatable matters. Some placed the emphasis differently and thereby improved the behavior of their ancestors, and some elevated their actions by portraying them in the form of epic poetry or tragic drama. Others took still greater liberties. They expanded the conquests of King David, invented new international associations for Solomon, blended Babylonian and Greek legends with the tale of Abraham, and turned Moses into the cultural provider for Egyptians, Ethiopians, Phoenicians, and Greeks. Nor did they stop there. Inventive writers added episodes to received texts, adapted pagan folktales and inserted amusing stories into the books of Ezra and Daniel, and even gave a wholly different tone to the book of Esther by affixing new material in strategic places. The Scriptures stimulated the creative talents of Hellenistic Jews.

Those talents gained expression outside the biblical context as well. Fictive tales set Jews at the scene of major events of Hellenistic history and gave them a dramatic part in the decisions of Hellenistic kings. In such tales Alexander the Great himself paid obeisance to their god, and successive Ptolemaic rulers welcomed them back to Egypt, sponsored the Septuagint, promoted Jews to high rank in the court, or became converted from persecutors to firm friends. The stories conveyed a harmonious setting in which Jews could live comfortably as political subordinates within the structure of Hellenistic monarchy, while also subtly advancing the idea of Jewish moral and intellectual superiority within that structure.

The emphasis on Jewish self-esteem expressed through creative fantasy recurs again and again. It appears in the claims that Greek philosophers and poets found inspiration in the Pentateuch, in the forecasts of the quintessen- tially pagan Sibyl who visualized Jewish triumph in the apocalypse that could sweep up compliant Greeks in its wake, and in the imaginary kinship relations between Jews and Spartans that gave a clear ascendancy to the former.

Jewish writings in Greek cover a broad expanse. They may not always reach a high level of literary quality, but their range and variety offer an invaluable perspective on the mentality of Hellenistic Jews. They contain subtleties and sub-texts often spiced with wit, humor, and irony. Their embellishments of biblical narratives and transformation of biblical heroes presuppose a readership familiar with the Scriptures, usually the Septuagint. And their elevation of the Jewish role in Hellenistic history, especially their central relationship with monarchs of the realm, leaves little doubt about the audience to which these works were addressed. Few Gentiles could be expected to read texts that straightened out the chronology of the patriarchs, had Abraham deliver the alphabet to the Phoenicians, made Plato beholden to the Pentateuch, beefed up Hebrew texts with Greek additions, or portrayed pagan kings manipulated by Jewish figures. They could have served no missionary purposes—and were surely never intended for such ends. The texts have too often been labeled as apologia or propaganda, an inadequate and seriously misleading characterization. These were not simply reactive pamphlets, the product of a defensive rear-guard action by a beleaguered minority in an alien world. They reflect the creative energies, imagination, and even whimsical caprice of their authors. Hellenistic Jews wrote for their compatriots, for their self-esteem, for their sense of identity and superiority, and for their amusement, in terms congenial to the cultural atmosphere in which they thrived. By selectively appropriating Hellenic media to recreate their past and redefine themselves, Jews made more vivid the spiritual and intellectual precedence that they accorded to their own traditions.

CHAPTER 1

Hellenism and the Hasmonaeans

The revolt of Judas Maccabaeus represents for most researchers the pivotal point in the confrontation of Judaism and Hellenism. Judas’ resistance to the assaults upon his people’s legacy by the Hellenistic monarchy in Antioch ostensibly signaled a bitter contest between the cultures. The hitherto peaceful and piecemeal infiltration of Greek civilization in Palestine received a rude shock. The Maccabaean uprising appeared to create a deep cleavage, splitting the nation between those attracted by Hellenism and those devoted to Jewish traditions. Its repercussions reverberated through the era of the Hasmonaean dynasty, the followers and successors of Judas Maccabaeus. And it brings a central question to the fore. Did this divide sever the two cultures in Palestine, prohibiting compromise and leaving the future of Hellenistic Judaism to the Diaspora? Scrutiny of the relations between the Hasmonaeans and the Greek powers of the Near East suggests a surprising answer. They disclose an intriguing modus vivendi that could promote rather then deter Jewish adaptation to and manipulation of Hellenic ways. The behavior emblematizes in its own fashion the strategy of Hellenistic Jews that will be examined throughout this study.

The persecutions of Antiochus IV posed an awesome challenge to the Jews. Royal policy aimed at eradication of Jewish worship, traditions, and religious way of life. The defiling of the Temple and its rededication to Zeus Olympios, with the concomitant compulsion of Jews to participate in pagan sacrifices and rituals, represented a campaign to repress Judaism forcibly and to impose Hellenic institutions upon Jerusalem. The resistance of Mattathias and his sons turned back the challenge. Judas Maccabaeus’ victories and Seleucid preoccupations elsewhere enabled the Jews to regain and cleanse the Temple, restore ancestral practices, and eliminate the abominations perpetrated by the Hellenistic king. The dramatic events constitute a central exhibit for the presumed clash of Judaism and Hellenism.

The sequel, however, brought apparent ambiguity and confusion. Judas’ successors continued the fight; the Hasmonaean dynasty stood forth as champions of an autonomous Jewish state, with religious and political authority centered upon the Temple and in the hands of the High Priest; and its leaders rejected control by Hellenistic monarchs or absorption into a Hellenistic realm. Yet the Hasmonaeans themselves, in the course of the century that followed the Maccabaean revolt, engaged regularly in diplomatic dealings with Greek kings, adopted Greek names, donned garb and paraded emblems redolent with Hellenic significance, erected monuments, displayed stelai, and minted coinage inspired by Greek models, hired mercenaries, and even took on royal titulature. The ostensible paradox has often generated puzzlement. How could a movement that owed its origins to the rejection of Hellenism and Hellenizers within the Jewish community retain strength and appeal if its very leaders succumbed to the allure of Greek institutions? Did not the injection of Hellenic elements require compromise with Jewish faith, an encouragement to assimilation? Such questions presume a contest of Judaism against Hellenism, a struggle between traditionalists and Hellenizers, a crusade undertaken by the Maccabees but then abandoned or transformed by them.1 2 Assessment of that presumption is critical for understanding the essence of the Maccabaean rebellion and the association between Jewish leadership and Hellenic culture for the next century. And it opens the way to a larger finding. The confrontation of Jew and Greek, even at its most antagonistic and even in the homeland of the faith, promoted adjustment, adaptation, indeed creative appropriation on the part of the Jews. The analysis in this chapter focuses upon political and institutional developments in Palestine. But it serves as prelude to the broader cultural improvisations that extended to the Diaspora and helped to define Hellenistic Judaism.

Did Judas Maccabaeus raise his standard against Hellenism and Hellenizers? The fact is generally taken for granted. But the texts themselves do not readily conform to the conclusion. Our evidence derives almost exclusively from I and II Maccabees, both produced probably in the later second or early first century BCE. The first, composed originally in Hebrew, is the work of a pious Palestinian Jew, steeped in the Bible and eager to demonstrate the success of the Hasmonaeans against both Gentile opponents and their Jewish collaborators, heirs to the biblical heroes of old. The second, a one volume epitome of the now lost five volumes by Jason of Cyrene, was a Greek composition from the start, indeed an elegant, occasionally florid, Greek. Its author was a Diaspora Jew, well versed in Hellenistic historiography, but one with profound theological commitments who saw the Jews’ sufferings as a consequence of their own sins, their temporarily triumphant opponents as the instruments of God, and the ultimate crushing of their foes as divine vindication.3 From such sources, one might expect a clash with Hellenism and Hellenizers, if that was its form, to be highlighted. Not so.

The term Hellenizer appears with frequency in modern discussions. Its usage varies confusingly and unhelpfully, sometimes signifying apostates, sometimes supporters of the Seleucids, and sometimes nothing more than opponents of the Maccabees. More significantly, however, the word appears in no ancient text relevant to the subject. Its absence should give pause to zealous over-interpreters. Further, even the term Hellenism or some equivalent thereof occurs only five times in all the material pertaining to the persecution and the career of Judas Maccabaeus. That puts the matter in a very different perspective.

The five allusions to Hellenism all turn up in II Maccabees. So also do three references to ‘Judaism. They comprise the first instances in which those words appear in our evidence. And nowhere does II Maccabees juxtapose them as rival or competing concepts. Hellenism in some form or other occurs three times in connection with actions taken by the High Priest Jason who had an affinity for certain Greek practices, installing a gymnasium and an ephebate in Jerusalem. For the author of II Maccabees, Jason, with the consent of Antiochus, led his countrymen to the Greek way of life, and brought about a peak of Hellenism, with the result that even the priests placed highest value upon attaining Greek honors."4 In a fourth passage, Antiochus IV decreed the slaughter of all Jews who declined to convert to Hellenic ways.5 The Hellenic ways receive mention again in a letter of Antiochus V which concedes that the Jews could not be brought to embrace them. 6 Whatever accuracy or meaning these phrases contain, they shed little light on the motivation of Judas Maccabaeus. Jason had fallen from power long before the beginning of the revolt. Menelaus occupied the High Priesthood when the Maccabaean movement erupted, a man for whom no trace exists of an interest in matters Hellenic. As for the royal decree, the Jews plainly resisted it, and successfully so. But the phraseology represents only a summary judgment on the mix of measures imposed by Antiochus Epiphanes upon Judaea. The Maccabaean rebellion exploded against implementation of the king’s policies, not against Hellenism as such.

That the rebels may have considered themselves contending in some sense for Judaism is reasonable enough. II Maccabees introduces its narrative with the proud statement that the supporters of Judas Maccabaeus fought zealously on behalf of Judaism against Antiochus IV and his son. The author or epitomizer, however, significantly brands the enemies of the Jews as barbarian hordes.7 The term Judaism surfaces twice more in the text as the cause championed by the Maccabaean movement and one for which an adherent perished during the persecutions.⁸ None of the references to Judaism singles out Hellenism or Hellenizers as the targets of Jewish wrath. Hence, even the laudatory monograph on Judas Maccabaeus, II Maccabees, the one work regularly cited as locus classicus for the battle against Hellenism, does not make the point.9

The campaigns of Judas Maccabaeus directed themselves in large part at enemies who had dwelled in the lands surrounding Judaea long before the advent of the Greeks. The armies of the king and his officers, to be sure, represented a chief menace. But even those armies by no means consisted exclusively of Greeks. The Seleucid general Nicanor, prior to his climactic clash with the Maccabaean forces, assembled troops of varied nationalities, a motley assemblage of peoples: παμφύλων έθνη.10 That notice is reported in II Maccabees. And it receives confirmation repeatedly and consistently throughout the text of I Maccabees which designates the foes of Judas as τά έθνη, the nations.11 More pointedly and revealingly, I Maccabees makes reference to the hostile elements as the surrounding nations, τά έθνη τά κύκλω.12 The phraseology carries significance. Greeks as such go unmentioned. The author of I Maccabees focuses attention upon the neighboring communities and peoples of Palestine and Transjordan, longstanding rivals of the Jews. Judas’ campaigns therefore, on this presentation, recall the epic battles of the Bible and relive the triumphs over Canaanites, Ammonites, Edomites, and Philistines.13 Insofar as Judas rallied his forces against the foe, he hoisted a biblical standard directed at the indigenous dwellers of the region, not the Greeks themselves. That context takes shape at the very outset of I Maccabees. Its author explains the introduction even of the gymnasium, as well as other non-Jewish practices, in terms of a desire on the part of certain Jews to establish a relationship with the surrounding nations.14 And when Antiochus promulgated his presumed decree calling for institutional conformity throughout his realm, all of the έθνη adhered to the royal edict.15 The neighboring Gentiles, in short, comprise the immediate and persistent foe, peoples not identical with the minions of the Greek king, echoing the ancient clashes of the biblical era, and providing the appropriate setting for Maccabaean heroics. 16 I Maccabees employs other terms too to characterize the opponents of the Jews: άλλοφύλοι or αλλογενείς, peoples of a different race.17 ‘Plainly, Greeks are not singled out. The one specific usage of άλλοφύλοι denotes the inhabitants of Galilee, mobilized to assault the Jews.18 The issue of Hellenism takes a decided back seat.

Of course there were enemies within. Judas had to contend with rivals in the Jewish community, collaborators, so it was claimed, with the Seleucid regime, duly branded with infamy by the author of I Maccabees. Is it appropriate, however, to label them as Hellenizers? The term crops up nowhere in the testimony—surely a fact of some significance. I Maccabees does characterize the Jewish targets of the Maccabees as the impious ones, άσεβείς, a term also employed with some frequency by Josephus. It applies to those Jews who chose to cooperate with Antiochus IV, preferring their own safety to the preservation of their ancestral tradition, some perhaps serving even as garrison soldiers in the Akra to help maintain Seleucid power in Jerusalem.¹⁹ Their wickedness consisted in consorting with the enemy, not in the embrace of Hellenic ways. That is clear enough from the fact that the Seleucid choice for High Priest, Alcimus, also carried the stigma of impiety from the vantage point of the Maccabees. But he had certainly not forsaken Jewish traditions for the lure of Greek culture.20 Comparable terms are slung about by our sources, tainting the enemies of Judas as lawless men, deserters, sinners, even trouble-makers—but not Hellenizers.21 The nearest we have to such a suggestion is a reference in Josephus to Jews who had abandoned their native customs. Even here, however, the historian asserts that they chose instead a common way of life, i.e. presumably common to all nations, a general allusion to Gentiles, rather than to the adoption of Hellenic ways.22 Nothing suggests that the Maccabees hunted down Hellenizers.

Judas Maccabaeus took care over the posture he presented to the public. His cleansing of the Temple in December of 164 was consciously designed to place him in the line of ancient Israelite tradition. He made certain that the rituals of purification and rededication were performed by priests of impeccable character.23 The event deliberately recalled the dedication of the First Temple.24 And the commemorative festival instituted by Judas made a direct connection with Sukkot, the Feast of Tabernacles.25 The biblical precedents for Hanukkah predominate. They form a central feature of Mac- cabaean rhetoric. It causes no surprise, therefore, to find the forces of Judas and his brothers taking aggressive action in Idumaea, Gilead, Galilee, and Philistia in 163, forceful reminders still again that the Maccabees championed Jewish heritage against its most ancient enemies.26 The narrative of I Maccabees blames the surrounding nations for initiating the offensive, requiring Judas to come to the aid of beleaguered Jews dwelling in those regions. II Maccabees stresses the role played by Seleucid commanders and officers in stirring up hostilities. But their troops are foreign mercenaries, supported by indigenous enemies of the Jews, no Hellenic crusade.27 Whatever the truth of the matter, the Maccabees set themselves (or were so placed by their chroniclers) in the tracks of ancient heroes. At Caspin they called upon the God who had enabled Joshua to take the citadel of Jericho.28 They designated certain targets as sons of Esau or the land of Philistia.29 And they destroyed pagan temples and shrines that long predated the Greeks.30 Hellenism and Hellenizers did not themselves constitute the targets.

The Hasidaioi or Hasidim warrant notice here. If any group could be expected to champion traditionalism against Hellenic incursions, it should have been they. The self-styled pious would seem to represent a principal obstacle to alien infiltration into Judaism.31 Yet the one reasonably reliable piece of information on the Hasidaioi in the Maccabaean era has them take a moderate line and seek a peaceful resolution from Alcimus, the Seleucid appointee as High Priest, and the Seleucid general Bacchides. The effort proved calamitous, for the negotiators among the Hasidaioi were deceived and executed on the orders of Alcimus.32 But they evidently did not look upon the representatives of Seleucid authority in Judaea, one of whom was a man of priestly stock, as unacceptable to adherents of the faith.³³ Hence even the most devout Jews could countenance accommodation with the ministers of Hellenic power in their land.

The cultural contest, in short, has been overplayed. And one can go further. Even the arena of warfare and diplomacy shows less than implacable enmity. Clashes between Jewish forces and Seleucid armies occupy prime place in the historical record of the Maccabaean era. But they obscure the interaction of Jew and Greek at the leadership level. The Hasmonaean age, in fact, discloses a complex pattern of reciprocal relations and mutual dependency that undermines the concept of fundamental antagonism.34

Negotiations between the Seleucid officialdom and the Jews took place even during the lifetime of Judas Maccabaeus. II Maccabees preserves record of four letters concerning the Jews, evidently sent in 164 and 163.35 Two of them, composed at the Seleucid court in the reign of Antiochus IV, bear particular notice. The king himself wrote to the gerousia and to the rest of the Jews, offering amnesty to those who wished to return to their homes by a specified date, granting the resumption of their dietary restrictions and other laws, and promising no mistreatment for previous actions. The letter was prompted by a visit from Menelaus who would also return with it to reassure the Jews. 36 The fact that Menelaus served as intermediary and that the addressee was the gerousia does not mean that Antiochus dealt here only with the Hellenizing party.37 The prescript includes the rest of the Jews, and the letter, according to II Maccabees, was sent to the έθνος.38 Antiochus was plainly prepared to acknowledge privileges belonging to Jews as a whole. His leading minister Lysias authored another letter, this one posted to τό πλήθος of the Jews, a non-technical term clearly, perhaps signifying the general Jewish body, not excluding the Hasmonaeans and their sympathizers. The two Jewish emissaries who had submitted a petition to Lysias both possessed Hebrew names, and thus represented no Hellenizing party Lysias assured them that he would communicate certain requests to the king and would grant others on his own authority.39 The cordial exchange between Jewish representatives and the royal minister implies the potential for mutual advantage that would supersede the overt hostility. Indeed, the entire section of the text that encompasses the correspondence is introduced by the author of II Maccabees with a negotiation between Lysias and Judas Maccabaeus. The Seleucid commander, having been defeated at Beth Zur, welcomed proposals from Judas, offered a settlement, and promised to pressure the king for an agreement.40 II Maccabees misplaces this event, setting it after the death of Antiochus IV, and thus confounding the chronology of the letters that followed. But that gives no ground for doubting the diplomatic dealings between Seleucid authorities and the rebel leadership. Even Judas preferred a solution short of a duel to the death.

The two sides reached agreement again in early 162. Lysias had attacked Jerusalem and besieged the Temple Mount. But timing fortuitous for the Jews halted the assault. Word arrived of an insurrection at Antioch and a challenge to the throne. Seleucid troops had to be withdrawn from Jerusalem, and Antiochus V accepted terms that guaranteed to the Jews the right to practice their ancestral customs. The peace accord was concluded with the entire έθνος of the Jews.41 And, if II Maccabees be believed, Antiochus marked its achievement with a gracious welcome to Judas Maccabaeus himself.42

The pacts proved to be impermanent, mere temporary cessations of hostility. But a basic understanding had permanence. The Seleucids no longer required abandonment of Jewish faith, let alone conformity with Hellenic practices. The appointment in 162 of Alcimus as High Priest, a scion of the Aaronite line, reinforced that conviction.⁴³ Seleucid nomination of the High Priest had probably been standard practice since the time of Antiochus III and thus consistent with acknowledging Jewish rights to live under their own laws. As we have seen, the Hasidaioi themselves were swift to recognize Alcimus’ authority and to seek a peaceful resolution from him.44 Hellenic sovereignty and Jewish traditionalism could go hand in hand.

The ensuing Seleucid intervention in Judaea came at Alcimus’ own behest. The High Priest found the influence and popularity of the Maccabees to be disruptive to his own authority. The friction reflected internal Jewish rivalries, not a contest between Jew and Greek. It is noteworthy that Alcimus had to importune the new king Demetrius I with urgent appeals to dispatch a contingent of troops in 161 for the repression of his rival.45 And more noteworthy still is the fact that the king’s general Nicanor, after an initial skirmish with Maccabaean forces, offered proposals of peace. Judas consulted his soldiers and received unanimous consent to embrace the offer. In the formulation of II Maccabees, a friendly parley ensued between the leaders, the start of a personal relationship and genuine concord that permitted Judas to settle into the life of a private citizen. 46 The breakdown of the compact came only when the frustrated Alcimus renewed his appeal to the king, alleging that Nicanor undermined Seleucid policy by elevating Judas to a position of favor within the realm. Demetrius’ orders to move against Judas then shattered the concord. Nicanor, in order to save his skin, had to act accordingly, thereby rupturing relations and renewing conflict.47 The narrative attests to Alcimus’ influence at court—rather than to a collision between the Jewish faithful and the champions of Hellenism.

Judas Maccabaeus’ celebrated victory over Nicanor earned great plaudits but proved short-lived. His career came to an unhappy close with defeat and death in 160. But the experiences through which he lived set a pattern that would be pursued and expanded upon in the long years of the Hasmonaean dynasty. Divisions within Judaea plagued the Maccabaean movement as much as any opposition from Antioch. Seleucid intervention took place principally in order to maintain stability and indirect control, while leaving direction in the hands of the Jewish High Priest—a long-standing policy of the Syrian monarchy since the beginning of the second century, with the aberrant exception of Antiochus IV’s persecutions. This left considerable scope for negotiation and diplomacy. The future of the Hasmonaeans ironically lay not in resistance to Hellenic encroachment but in a network of reciprocal relations with Hellenic princes.

The death of Alcimus in 159 left the High Priesthood vacant. The fact is important and revealing. No one claimed or received appointment to that post for seven years thereafter.48 That prompts an intriguing inference. It appears that both the court in Antioch and the Jewish leadership recognized the delicacy of the situation and refrained from precipitate action. With no available candidate who had the proper priestly genealogy, Demetrius I evidently stayed his hand. The king awaited a decision by the