Wednesday, February 19, 2020

Jehoram of Israel: 851-840 BC [I]

A Bit-Part King  ∙  The Elisha Chronicles: Bitter Water, Two Bears, and a Widow’s Oil  ∙  The Shunemmite Episodes  ∙  Seven Years of Famine: Yellow Gourds, A Miraculous Feeding, and a Lost Axe Head  ∙  The ‘Leprous’ Aramean General  ∙  The ‘Blinding’ of the Arameans  ∙  Jerusalem Under Siege  ∙  Like Father, Like Son: Revisiting Ramoth-Gilead  ∙  A Tale of Two Anointings

Jehoram (a.k.a. Joram) succeeded his brother Ahaziah and became king of Israel in the eighteenth year of the reign of Jehoshaphat of Judah. He would reign for twelve years, though the biblical narrative makes it seem longer; this is because most of the prophet Elisha’s recorded actions take place during Jehoram’s reign and because Aram was particularly active against Israel at this time (though Aram and Israel had been in conflict since the days of King Baasha, the Bible records more material on their conflict during Jehoram’s reign than it does with the reigns of all the other Israelite kings combined). 

Jehoram did what was evil in Yahweh’s sight, but the text emphasizes that he wasn’t of the same evil vein as his father and mother. The Queen Mother didn’t have the same hold over him as she’d had over Ahaziah, and Jehoram tore down the sacred pillar of Baal that his father had erected. It’s likely that while he wasn’t opposed to his mother’s Phoenician religion, he didn’t want the Baal-Melqart cult to be the ‘state religion’ – that honor was to be reserved for the Golden Calves erected by Jeroboam. Nevertheless, Jehoram wasn’t set against Baalism, as is indicated by three lines of evidence: first, Elisha barred Jehoram from seeking help from the prophets of his mother and father (prophets of Baal), implying that it was Jehoram’s normal practice to do so; second, his successor Jehu was forced to slay the Baal prophets in the land when he became king, which implies that they were present and numerous; and third, the Queen Mother Jezebel was alive, and if Jehoram had initiated a program of reform against Baalism, she would’ve caused a stink (and the Bible records no such domestic disturbances). 

The story of Jehoram’s reign is really the story of Elisha; though the king shows up now and again, he plays a bit part compared to the prophet of God. The narrative of Jehoram’s reign can be approached as a chiasm:

A) War (with Moab)
B) The Elisha Chronicles
C) War (with Aram)

The bulk of Jehoram’s reign is occupied by a hodgepodge of events from Elisha’s ministry, and Elisha has key roles to play in the war with Moab (which was addressed in the earlier chapter on Jehoshaphat of Judah) and Aram. 

the prophet Elisha
The prophet Elisha was Elijah's successor, and the Bible puts him on the same level as his master: both prophets crossed the Jordan River on dry land (echoing both Moses’ crossing of the Red Sea and Joshua’s crossing of the Jordan), both miraculously provided for hard-pressed widows, and both raised dead boys back to life. This isn’t to say, however, that they were one and the same, as their dissimilarities are more poignant than their similarities. Elijah chose a semi-ascetic, nomadic lifestyle whereas Elisha spent much of his time in the cities, rubbing shoulders with kings and politicians; Elijah came from a backwater frontier town whereas Elisha came from a wealthy family with commercial interests; Elijah was moody and over-the-top whereas Elisha was self-controlled and even-tempered. Historian Cyrus H. Gordan notes, “If we strip the narratives about Elisha of their anecdotes, he appears as an important historic personage: a maker of kings and a man who intervened boldly, at psychological moments, in international affairs.” Elisha’s ministry began in Jehoram’s early years after Elijah was translated into heaven on the divine chariot of Yahweh. His ministry continued through the reigns of Jehu and Jehoahaz, and he died sometime while Joash ruled in Judah. His half-century ministry stretched from around 850 to 800 BC. 

The Bible records eighteen separate episodes involving Elisha whereas Elijah’s ministry can be found mainly in three chapters (1 Kings 17-19); most of the ‘Elisha Chronicles’ are presented as vignettes, or short episodes that stand on their own without fitting into larger contexts (they can be viewed as ‘snapshots’ of his ministry). Elijah spearheaded the growth of prophetic schools in northern Israel, particularly in the towns of Gilgal, Bethel, and Jericho, and Elisha took over after his departure. Elisha paid extreme attention to these prophetic schools as if they were a clutch of his own children; he expanded the schools and is frequently seen in the company of his students (called ‘sons of the prophets’). Though Elijah’s ministry had been filled with dramatic contests between Yahweh and Baal, Elisha’s ministry was geared towards reformation from the inside out: these prophetic schools, and the prophets they produced, would be instrumental in changing the social and religious fabric of apostatized Israel. Elisha knew firsthand that no matter how dramatic the demonstrations of God’s power, it would take a movement that struck at peoples’ spirits to turn the country around. Prophets of Yahweh who could show Israel the error of her ways and lead her into truth were desperately required in a land gripped in the fierce talons of the Baal-Melqart cult. 

Shortly after Elijah's translation into heaven, Elisha prepared to leave Jericho to visit the major prophetic schools Elijah had sponsored to break the news: the old prophet was gone and a new one was in town. Before he could depart, however, Jericho’s town leaders put him to the test: a bitter spring of water near Jericho gushed its acrid waters across the plain to the Jordan River, and any ground the water touched was made infertile. Even worse, any cattle that drank the bitter water couldn’t carry calves to term. Recent hydrological surveys have shown certain springs in the vicinity of Jericho to be radioactive, and laboratory tests have shown that such waters can cause sterility. Some scholars speculate that the spring referred to here is the so-called Spring of the Sultan near Jericho’s ancient ruins. Elisha ordered the town’s leaders to bring him a new bowl with salt in it; they did, and he went to the bitter spring, threw the salt into it, and proclaimed that Yahweh had purified the water; it would no longer cause death or infertility (the biblical author adds that the water has remained pure ever since). Skeptics can find no scientific reason the salt would purify bitter water, and that’s the point: this was proof that Elisha was the new Elijah. 

Elisha left Jericho and began the twelve mile trip to Bethel to alert the school of prophets there of the new change in operations. Word of Elijah’s translation to heaven traveled ahead of him, and a group of at least fifty ‘boys’ from the town met him en route. Mocking him with hoots and jeers, they shouted, ‘Go up, baldy! Go up!’ Some English translations have erroneously identified these mockers as children or young boys; the Hebrew word used, however, can refer to ‘young adults’ as we understand them (in the late teens) or to immature men (in 1 Kings 3.7 the term is used for Solomon, who was inexperienced; and Joshua’s spies – whom we would consider adults – were identified by the same term). It’s probable that the text isn’t showcasing their age as much as it’s highlighting their immaturity; it’s best to picture these ruffians as hot-blooded young men, enraptured by Baalism or the Golden Calf worship of their hometown, contemptuous of God, spitting derogatory terms at Elisha, and mocking God’s representative on earth. They encouraged him to ‘go up’ to join Elijah in heaven; the people of Bethel wanted no part of him! After enduring the abuse for a while, Elisha turned and glowered at them, and he cursed them in the name of Yahweh (under Mosaic Law, God’s ministers were required to ‘curse’ the disobedient; he may have said something like, ‘May evil and calamity befall you!’). At those words two bears came out of the woods and ‘mauled’ forty-two of them. Bears still lived in the forested regions of Israel, typically in the hilly wooded regions of the central hill country, and the route from Jericho to Bethel passed through wooded areas where such bears lived. Some people believe that the bears killed the ruffians; however, the Bible simply states that the bears injured them, and it doesn’t state the extent of these injuries. The main point is that Yahweh taught these rogues a lesson and vindicated his prophet. The bloodied mockers ran panic-stricken back to Bethel with a terrifying story that would serve as an unforgettable lesson to a new generation being raised in one of the centers of Israel’s Golden Calf worship. One can only imagine the reception Elisha received when he strode through Bethel’s city gate!

The prophet’s itinerary took him next to Mount Carmel seventy-five miles away. It may be that a prophetic school had been established on the mountain’s slopes (a fitting place, given what occurred there), or perhaps Elisha meant to commemorate Yahweh’s victory over Baal. After Mount Carmel he traveled forty miles to Samaria, the capital of Israel. It was at this point that he snuck into the baggage train of Jehoram’s army and accompanied Israel’s armed forces on their Moabite Campaign. Some time after returning to Samaria, a widow of a member of the city’s group of prophets approached Elisha and said that her husband had feared Yahweh but had died. Her husband had been in debt, and a creditor had knocked on her door and threatened to take her two sons as slaves if she couldn’t fork up the money to pay off the debt (Mosaic Law allowed a creditor to place a debtor and his children into slavery to work off a debt [Exodus 21.2-4; Lev 25.10]; since the debtor was dead, the creditor would satisfy himself with enslaving his sons). Elisha asked her what she had in her house; she said she had a flask of oil. He instructed her to borrow as many empty jars as she could from friends and neighbors and to go into her house with her sons and shut the door behind her. She was to pour olive oil from her flask into the jars, setting each one aside when it was filled. She followed his instructions to the letter, and soon every container was filled to the brim! She was able to sell the oil to pay her debts, and enough was left over to provide for her and her sons. This episode echoes Elijah’s dealings with the widow of Zerapheth; just as God provided for the Phoenician widow, so he provided for the Israelite widow. This story highlights not only Yahweh’s power but the connection between Elijah and Elisha. 

Monday, February 17, 2020

Ahaziah of Israel: 852-851 BC

A Failed Maritime Adventure  ∙  The Moabite Rebellion  ∙  An Untimely Fall  ∙  The Riddle of 
Baal-zebub  ∙  Elijah’s Last Mission  ∙  Thunderbolts From heaven 


an artist's rendition of King Ahaziah
Ahab's son Ahaziah took the throne following the death of his father in 852 BC. Though the Bible states that he reigned two years, his reign was more likely compressed into a single year stretching between 852 and 851; Hebrew reckoning of years counted each year involved, even if was only for a couple months of that particular year. Ahaziah tolerated Israel’s calf worship and served Baal; the Queen Mother Jezebel retained a great deal of power and probably exerted undue influence on Ahaziah. 

Israel’s new king renewed his father’s alliance with Jehoshaphat of Judah, and the two kings linked hands in a joint maritime venture to try and reclaim the commercial prestige of the Solomonic Empire. The venture came to nothing: the ships built in harbor at the Red Sea were dashed to pieces in a storm. Ahaziah blamed their destruction on a lack of skill in the Judean mariners; he wanted to replace them with Israelite sailors who had the sailing expertise of the neighboring Phoenicians. Jehoshaphat declined, as a prophet of God declared the disaster to be a work of God. Ahaziah no doubt fumed at Jehoshaphat’s refusal, but there was nothing he could do: he had to cross through Judah in order to reach the Red Sea, and with Judah out of the picture, his ambitions were foiled. 

King Mesha of Moab rebelled against their Israelite overlords when Ahaziah took the throne. The Moabites had been under heavy tribute to Israel since the days of Ahaziah’s grandfather Omri; Mesha dared not rebel during the days of Ahab, for Ahab’s military strength and expertise would’ve made a successful rebellion nigh impossible. Mesha hoped that Ahaziah was made of ‘lesser stuff’ than his father and orchestrated a revolt in which Moab secured its independence and captured the tableland north of the Arnon Gorge as far as Medeba, Nebo, and Bezer at the expense of the northern Israelite tribes of Gad and Reuben. Ahaziah may have had the ability to push Moab back and bring Mesha to heel, but he wouldn’t have the opportunity: early in his reign he fell through the lattice that enclosed the upper chamber of his palace and sustained awful wounds that consigned him to his bed. Samarian excavations have revealed that the royal palace of the time had a second story; the palace’s architectural style featured open areas, and the lattice would’ve been a wooden grid offering both shade and air circulation. Bedridden, the newly-minted king sought a prognosis on his condition from a god of the Baal-Melqart cult; because he didn’t turn to Yahweh, God vowed that he would die in the bed in which he lie.

ancient remains of Ekron, a Philistine city
The last mission of Elijah's ministry was to pronounce judgment on the apostatized Ahaziah (remember that Elijah was still active during Ahaziah’s short reign). Lingering upon his bed and hovering between life and death, Ahaziah dispatched messengers to Baal-zebub, the god of the Philistine city of Ekron, hoping for a favorable word; were the prophets of Baal-zebub to speak favorably, the god would intervene on his behalf. That Ahaziah would prefer to seek counsel with a prophet of the Baals rather than Yahweh isn’t surprising given Israel’s current religious state and the nature of his upbringing under Jezebel’s domineering hand; what is surprising is the god he chose. Nothing is known of Baal-zebub, whose name means ‘lord of the flies.’ Perhaps Baal-zebub had a reputation for granting favorable oracles? Some have suggested that the commercial city of Ekron – which, in Ahaziah’s day, was heavily fortified and boasted over a hundred olive oil refineries – was the closest Baal shrine to Samaria; however, Ekron was sixty miles from Israel’s capital city, lying twenty miles southwest of Jerusalem and fifteen miles from the Mediterranean on the border of the Shephelah and the Central Hill Country in the frontier area separating Judah and Philistia. In other words, it’s extremely likely there were closer shrines – and we know there was even one in Samaria! Another theory is that Baal-zebub, as ‘lord of the flies,’ was a minor deity that supposedly had the ability to drive away flies who carried disease and infection; if Ahaziah’s wounds were festering, he may have chosen to petition the ‘lord of the flies’ as his best hope for curbing the infection. Some scholars argue that the deity he petitioned wasn’t Baal-zebub at all but Baal-zebul, ‘Chief Baal’; according to this theory, the orthodox Israelite author of the biblical narrative changed the spelling to ridicule the deity (just as was done with corrupting Jezebal’s name to Jezebel). 

Hercules sports a lion-headed cloak of the sort
popular in the ancient Near East; many scholars
believe this was the sort of cloak Elijah wore. Small
wonder, then, that it was so noteworthy!
Whatever the reason for Ahaziah’s choice of the god of Ekron, the fact remains that it wasn’t Yahweh he sought after. The angel of Yahweh instructed Elijah to intercept the messengers dispatched to Ekron. The prophet did so, and he gave a message to them to carry to the king: ‘Is it because there is no God of Israel that you’re seeking consult with the god of Ekron? Because of this, you will die in the bed you lie in!’ Ahaziah’s actions were a complete denial of God; to consult a foreign oracle was to say that Yahweh was silent and couldn’t be trusted. Yahweh did, however, have a word for Ahaziah, though it was unsolicited. The king’s messengers knew Elijah and his power; when the prophet instructed them to turn around, they obeyed. Upon returning to Samaria, they informed the bedridden Ahaziah of their encounter without mentioning the prophet’s name. Ahaziah knew something was amiss, and he asked them to describe the prophet; they told him he was ‘a lord of hair’ who was wearing a leather girdle (girdles were normally made of comfortable material). The messengers may have been saying that the prophet was an enormously hairy and unkempt fellow, or they could’ve been referring to the shaggy cloak he wore (which may or may not have been crowned with a lion’s head). Ahaziah knew immediately that it was Elijah, the pesky prophet who had been such a thorn in his parents’ sides. It’s likely Ahaziah had met him before; perhaps, as a much younger prince, he’d been present at Mount Carmel with his father and witnessed the brutal slaughter of the Baal prophets. No doubt Jezebel had instructed Ahaziah to deal harshly with Elijah if the troublesome prophet reappeared, and Ahaziah took her advice straight-on and ordered Elijah’s arrest. He dispatched a unit of fifty soldiers to make the arrest; such a heavy-handed force suggests that Ahaziah was trying to protect against Elijah’s widely-known influence and power, and it was also a direct challenge to Elijah’s power and the God who gave him that power.

The captain in charge of the arrest party approached Elijah and ordered his surrender. Elijah prayed that Yahweh would vindicate his prophetic authority by destroying the band of soldiers, and Yahweh did just that as fire (likely lightning) came down from heaven to consume the soldiers sent to arrest the prophet. That God used fire was a message in itself: Baal worshipers associated Baal’s power with thunderbolts and fire, and Baal used thunderbolts and fire to enter battle against his enemies. By co-opting Baal’s methods, Yahweh showed that He had the power they associated with their god and that He was using Baal’s own tricks against those loyal to the pagan deity. Ahaziah brooded at their loss and dispatched another arrest party; the captain of this party commanded Elijah to surrender ‘quickly,’ signifying the king’s growing impatience. The second arrest party suffered the same fate as the first. A third arrest party was dispatched; the captain of this batch humbly approached Elijah alone, bowed before the prophet, and requested compassion on him and his men. He knew Elijah’s powers and was just following orders. He acknowledged that Elijah – and, by proxy, Yahweh – held his and his soldiers’ lives in his hands. He asked Elijah, at the very least, to spare his men. The captain received his wish: Elijah’s honor, and the honor of Yahweh, had been vindicated. The angel of Yahweh instructed Elijah to meet with the king.

Whatever Ahaziah intended to do to Elijah didn’t come to pass. Face-to-face with the prophet, he received the same message: because he had sought counsel with the Baals rather than seeking Yahweh, he would succumb to his wounds. The prophecy came true, and Ahaziah died absent an heir. The throne passed to his brother Jehoram, who would have to deal with another pesky prophet: Elijah’s successor Elisha. 

Saturday, February 15, 2020

Ahab of Israel [VI]

The final contest between Ahab and Elijah: A Tale of Two Chariots. Though Ahab had died at Ramoth-Gilead, his ongoing rivalry with Elijah (and the ongoing rivalry between Baal and Yahweh) had one more contest. Mount Carmel, as the penultimate contest, was second-to-last; the narrative we’re about to explore was the final contest. Both Ahab and Elijah’s stories end in a chariot: the worshiper of Baal met his damnation bleeding out in his royal chariot whereas the prophet of Yahweh was vindicated and rescued by God and carried to heaven in a divine chariot.

the ruins of biblical Jericho
Elijah’s ‘translation into heaven’ took place sometime around 848 BC during the reign of Jehoram (though Ahab was succeeded by his son Ahaziah, his successor wouldn’t last long and would be succeeded by Jehoram, another of Ahab’s sons) and is recorded in 2 Kings 2.1-14. Elijah and his protégé Elisha were traveling from Gilgal, likely in the vicinity of Geba and Micmash just a few miles south of Bethel. Elijah ordered Elisha to stay in Gilgal, as Yahweh had instructed him to go to Bethel; Elisha, as Elijah’s constant companion and padawan, refused. Upon reaching Bethel, a group of prophets belonging to one of the prophetic schools Elijah had established cornered Elisha and asked the apprentice if he knew God was going to ‘take’ Elijah that day. Elisha replied that he did and they needed to stop yammering about it, thank you very much. Elijah then told Elisha that Yahweh instructed him to go to Jericho, and again Elisha refused to stay behind. They made the rugged, twenty-mile journey down from the mountainous region of Ephraim to the newly-fortified city of Jericho in the Jordan Valley. A group of prophets from Jericho’s prophetic school asked Elisha if he knew what was afoot. Elisha replied that he did. Elijah told Elisha that God gave him more instructions: he was to go down to the Jordan River. He wanted to go alone, but Elisha refused. The two of them began the five-mile journey to Jericho with fifty of Jericho’s prophets following them. It’s likely, given the track they followed, that they reached the part of the Jordan that Joshua had crossed during the Conquest.

Elijah and Elisha cross the Jordan River on dry ground

Upon reaching the muddied waters of the Jordan, Elijah folded his infamous cloak and struck the Jordan River with it. The river divided (an echo of both the Exodus and the Conquest), and he and Elisha crossed to the other side on dry ground. Clambering onto the opposite bank, Elijah cornered his apprentice and asked if there was anything he could do for the young prophet before he was taken away. Elisha was bold in his response: ‘Let me inherit a double share of your spirit and become your successor.’ Elisha wasn’t asking for twice Elijah’s power; he was simply asking to be identified as Elijah’s successor with the same powers (a firstborn son, as primary heir, inherited a ‘double share’ of his father’s estate and was considered his equal). Elijah made no promises but added, “If you see me when I’m taken, you’ll get your request; if you don’t see it, you won’t.” In other words, if Yahweh enabled Elisha to see what was going on ‘behind the scenes,’ that’d be a sign that his request to ‘carry the torch’ on equal footing with his master would be granted. 

They walked away from the river in the direction of Mount Nebo where Moses had died (a subtle comparison between Elijah and Moses, a comparison picked up again in the New Testament at the Mount of Transfiguration when Elijah and Moses appeared alongside Jesus). Suddenly a ‘chariot of fire’ drawn by ‘horses of fire’ appeared, and it drove between the two of them, separating them, and Elijah was carried away by a ‘whirlwind’ into heaven. ‘Fire’ here may be an earthly description of celestial glory, and the ‘whirlwind’ is typically connected to God’s activity and presence in prophetic materials. Elisha’s eyes were ‘opened’ to what was transpiring: the curtain separating the physical world from the spiritual world (the division between what human eyes can detect and that which remains invisible to us) was drawn back, and Elisha was granted a vision of what was happening – truly happening! – beyond the scope of mere mortal irises and cortexes. It’s interesting to ponder if Elisha witnessed an ‘everyday’ occurrence for God’s people; in other words, when God’s people die, does God sweep them up in his divine chariot? It’s likely this was a demonstration of reality rather than the nuts-and-bolts of it (after all, chariots were the main military vehicles of the day; perhaps, in a similar vision in the modern world, Elijah may have been carried up in tanks or Apache helicopters!); besides, Elijah’s ‘translation’ was a quasi-unique event – the only person in the Bible who preceded him in such a matter of going to be with God without dying was Enoch in Genesis 5.4 (interestingly, some believe that Enoch and Elijah are the apocalyptic prophets, the ‘two witnesses,’ of Revelation 11.1-13 who will be slain but resurrected). By carrying Elijah away in a chariot, Yahweh is echoing ancient Near Eastern imagery with which Elisha and the prophets would be familiar: major deities often used charioteers, and chariots were weapons of war. Elijah’s ministry had been an ongoing military conflict between Yahweh and the Baals, and what better way to showcase God’s might by ‘rescuing’ his prophet in a weapon of war?

This display of God’s power rocked Elisha’s world. He shouted, ‘My father! My father! I see the chariots and the charioteer of Israel!’ He may be identifying Elijah as the ‘charioteer’ of Israel; this title would fit Elijah, for the aged prophet had been a close companion of Yahweh and had been the one who ‘brought’ Yahweh into battle against the Baals. As the chariot and its fiery horses disappeared, a stunned and grief-stricken Elisha tore his clothes (a common form of mourning in the ancient Near East), bent down, and picked up Elijah’s discarded cloak. He returned to the bank of the Jordan River; striking the river’s currents with the cloak as his master had done, he cried out, ‘Where is Yahweh, the God of Elijah?’ Perhaps he was wondering if God’s power on Elijah was with him, too. The Jordan River divided, yet another sign that Elisha was Elijah’s successor and that God was still present, and so Elisha crossed the river. Crossing back over the Jordan at the same place and in the same direction as Joshua centuries earlier, Elisha was reenacting the Conquest of the Promised Land. Just as Joshua had led the Israelites to seize the Promised Land from the Canaanites, so Elisha would be leading Yahweh’s conquest of the pagan gods (the Baal-Melqart cult) that had infected the land. 

Elijah’s ministry had been the ‘opening shot’ of this new Conquest. Elisha’s ministry, however, would see the bulk of the activity. Whereas Elijah’s ministry was filled with glitz and glamour and contests between Yahweh and Baal, Elisha’s ministry would be more ‘underground’ and subtle; he would carry on Elijah’s commission, anointing both Hazael of Damascus and Jehu of Israel to execute God’s judgment. He would raise a ‘school of prophets’ who would be instrumental in turning the peoples’ hearts back to the Living God.

When the fifty prophets from Jericho witnessed Elisha’s miraculous crossing and saw that Elisha was wearing Elijah’s mantle, they exclaimed, ‘Elijah’s spirit rests on Elisha!’ They went to meet him and bowed before him. They offered to send out scouting parties to locate the missing prophet; perhaps Yahweh had dropped him off on a mountaintop or in some remote valley? Elisha knew better and told them not to waste their time. But they badgered him about it, and he eventually acquiesced. For three days the Jericho prophets searched high and low among the ravines and rocky ridges of the Jordan Valley but without success. Elisha, who had remained in Jericho, retorted upon their return, ‘Didn’t I tell you not to go?’ Then Elisha drew a breath, put oomph into his step, and left Jericho: it was time to let people know that Elijah had been taken to heaven and there was a new prophet in town. 

Friday, February 14, 2020

Ahab of Israel [V]

Naboth in his vineyard
Ahab had received bitter news from the unnamed prophet of God after his victory at Aphek, but more bad news was coming. Ahab was spending time at his winter palace in Jezreel when he noticed a lush vineyard that abutted his palace walls. Ahab’s winter palace was excavated in the 1990s: the rectangular enclosure covered eleven acres and was surrounded by a casemate wall with corner towers. It boasted a six-chambered gate, a fosse (a moat intended to prevent tunneling under the walls), and earthen ramparts that were cut from rock; some of these ramparts stretched thirty feet in width and nearly twenty feet in depth. From atop these walls Ahab envied the neighboring vineyard. He approached its owner – Naboth the Jezreelite – and expressed his interest in purchasing the vineyard as a vegetable garden for an extension of his palace. He gave Naboth two choices for purchase: he could arrange for him a better vineyard in a different location or pay Naboth the vineyard’s worth. Naboth turned down both options, refusing to sell. His refusal isn’t surprising: possession of the land was a gift of the covenant, and the land allotted to the tribes had been sectioned off to clans and families. Patrimonial landholdings constituted each family’s inclusion in Yahweh’s covenant promises and benefits. These holdings were intimately connected to the covenant God made with His people and weren’t to be passed around lightly. Naboth’s insistence on keeping his land despite benefiting from Ahab’s generous offer may indicate Naboth’s commitment to the covenant. He may have been a devoted follower of Yahweh. God’s repugnance at what comes next implies that Naboth was, at the very least, an upstanding citizen of Jezreel.

Ahab laments not being able to have Naboth's vineyard
Ahab didn’t hide his disappointment at Naboth’s refusal. He was not only disappointed but severely dismayed, and his childish emotions got the best of him: he threw a temper tantrum, pouted in his private chambers, and refused to eat. Jezebel noticed and asked him what was wrong. He relayed his conversation with Jezebel, and she sneered, ‘Are you or are you not the king? Perk up, Buttercup. I’ll get you your vineyard.’ The Israelites believed that the land belonged to Yahweh, but Phoenicians saw land only as royal fiefdoms; all land was on grant from the king. Israelite kingship had been designed to be less despotic than the surrounding monarchies; the king was not above the law, but Jezebel, true to her Phoenician roots, wasn’t taken with such niceties. She connived against Naboth, forging letters of instruction in Ahab’s name, sealing them with the royal seal, and sending them to the elders and nobles who lived in the city. A fast was to be declared in Jezreel; such a command would indicate that a curse had befallen the city because of some unknown sin. Naboth was to be put at the head of the table of a gathering of the elders; by putting him at the head of the table, Jezebel gave Naboth a prominent status, and as such his actions would be capable of affecting the whole community. Two scoundrels – or sons of Belial, ‘worthless men’ – were to be seated close to him where they could claim to hear words spoken under his breath. The scoundrels were to publicly charge Naboth with cursing both God and the king, a capital crime (Exod 22.8; Deut 13.11); at that the elders were to order Naboth dragged out of the hall to meet his Maker. The elders obeyed: the fast was declared, Naboth was given the prominent seat, the scoundrels did their dirty work, and Naboth was dragged outside the city walls and stoned to death. The elders’ ready compliance with Jezebel’s order highlights not only the moral degradation of the people of Jezreel but also the terror Jezebel inspired – no elder dared cross her! When news reached the queen that the deed was done, she informed her husband; Ahab joyously claimed the land as his property. Because Naboth was put to death for treason, his land was forfeited to the government. 

Elijah confronts Ahab
The word of Yahweh came to Elijah, and God commanded the prophet to confront Ahab in the late Naboth’s vineyard. Because Ahab had shed innocent blood and seized the vineyard (though Jezebel had given the order, he was her head and responsible for her actions), he’d pay for it. Ahab was enjoying his new property when Elijah confronted him. He hadn’t seen the prophet since the Contest on Mount Carmel, and upon seeing him, he said, ‘Have you found me, O my enemy?’ These words could’ve been delivered in sarcasm or in terror at Elijah’s presence (the infamous prophet of Yahweh never had a good thing to say to the king!). Elijah cut straight to the meat of the matter: ‘Have you murdered and taken possession of that which wasn’t yours?’ Elijah’s prophecies cut to the marrow of Ahab’s bone: ‘In the place where dogs licked up the blood of Naboth, so, too, dogs will also lick up your blood!’ He prophesied doom on Elijah’s dynasty: just as Jeroboam and Baasha suffered lineages cut short, so, too, would Ahab, because he provoked Yahweh to anger and caused Israel to sin. ‘The dogs shall eat Jezebel within the bounds of Jezreel. Anyone belonging to Ahab who dies in the city the dogs shall eat; and anyone of his who dies in the open country, the birds of the air shall eat.’ The same dreaded destiny afforded to the lineages of Jeroboam by Ahijah and Baasha by Jehu were being given to Ahab by Elijah: his descendants wouldn’t be buried, and their spirits would be forced to wander restlessly. All this would come to pass because Ahab had ‘sold himself’ (i.e. completely surrendered himself) to do that which he knew to be evil in God’s sight. Ahab humbled himself before Yahweh, so Yahweh showed mercy and declared that the prophecies would be delayed – but not undone. Ahab’s descendants would suffer the consequences of Ahab’s sins, but this wouldn’t be a case of the innocent suffering for the guilty; God knew Ahab’s sons would be no better than their father.

Historian Cyrus H. Gordan captures the immensity of the story of Naboth’s vineyard in The Bible and the Ancient Near East (pp. 228): “The [Naboth] affair made a terrible impression on the people and determined the downfall of Ahab’s line because innocent blood had been shed. Israel’s institutions of ancient origins required that innocent blood be expiated by blood; and even if Ahab should die a natural death, his descendant(s) would have to pay for the crime, as actually came to pass. A single miscarriage of justice was enough to destroy the most powerful and effective dynasty that northern Israel ever had.”

*  *  *

Ahab may have 'repented' in light of Elijah's dire prophecies, but the repentance wouldn’t hold. The last recorded episode of his life – the battle of Ramoth-Gilead – indicates that he still viewed Yahweh as ‘just another god’ and was rather disdainful of Him and His prophets. Ahab stands as an example of the sort of person who ‘repents’ multiple times throughout their lives – especially after suffering the temporal consequences of sin, or getting caught red-handed in sin – but who can never seem to ‘stay the course.’ Ahab’s ‘humbling’ before Yahweh lacked staying power: he was back to his old tricks in no time. 

Ahab was slain by an arrow
The Battle of Ramoth-Gilead is recounted in detail in the previous chapter on Jehoshaphat of Judah, so here we need only recount a few poignant details. Most importantly, it is the battle at which King Ahab died. His death fulfilled two prophecies given in his lifetime. Following the Battle of Aphek, an unnamed prophet of God had declared that because Ahab had spared the life of Ben-hadad II (whom God had chosen for execution), Ahab would suffer Ben-hadad II’s fate: while the Aramean king lived, Ahab would die. At Ramoth-Gilead Ahab went against his Aramean nemesis and was killed in the battle. After being wounded by an arrow, Ahab climbed into his chariot and tried to save the battle as he bled out. He failed, the Israelite army scattered, and his blood-slicked chariot rattled its way back to Samaria where it was washed out beside a pool. Dogs licked up the blood, fulfilling Elijah’s prophecy. It should also be noted that Ahab’s leniency towards Ben-hadad II after Aphek didn’t pay off in the end. The Aramean king had promised to return territory he’d snatched from Israel in the days of King Baasha, but he was untrustworthy and hadn’t done so (this breach of contract is what motivated an Israelite-Judean army to march against Ramoth-Gilead). Though Ahab’s leniency after Aphek had enabled he and Ben-hadad II to stand united against Assyria in 853 BC, it had done little to ease the ever-present tensions between the two countries. It was only a matter of time before Israel and Aram were fighting again; one is led to wonder how things might have been different in Ahab had followed God’s will and slain Ben-hadad II at Aphek!

*  *  *

In 853 BC - sometime after the Naboth Debacle but before Ahab’s death at the Battle of Ramoth-Gilead – Ahab and Ben-hadad II linked hands to thwart an Assyrian invasion of the Mediterranean coast. We know of this only because of Assyrian annals; the Bible doesn’t mention it. Biblical scholars have puzzled over its absence in the biblical narrative, but the answer may be very simple. The author of 1 and 2 Kings works diligently to showcase the evils of northern Israel against the (occasional) piety of Judah. Ahab was militarily skilled and saw many victories during his reign; the victories recorded in Kings – the Siege of Samaria and the Battle of Aphek – were fought by Yahweh, so though Ahab was victorious, it was Yahweh who received the glory. The writer of Kings, though likely aware of Qarqar, had no information on God fighting for Ahab at the battle, so he left it out; he wanted to show that the wicked Ahab’s victories could all be attributed to Yahweh. The author of Kings compiled his work from numerous sources – we can assume that every king had a ‘court historian’ who kept records of the kingship; these records, though lost to history, are mentioned time and again in the Bible – and many of these sources may have mentioned Qarqar. However, because the Battle of Qarqar doesn’t fit with the author of Kings’ agenda, it was left out. Our knowledge of Ahab’s presence at Qarqar, then, comes from non-biblical (i.e. Assyrian) sources.

mounted warriors involved at Qarqar
In the sixth year of his reign, Shalmaneser III of Assyria (who reigned from 858 to 824 BC) launched a massive campaign of conquest to seize the lands west of the Euphrates (he had already subjected the lands east of his hometown). Shalmaneser III’s army was the most sophisticated and complex the ancient world had ever seen (at least according to reliefs on the bronze gates at Balawat in ancient Iraq). These reliefs showcase armed corps of infantry – some heavily armored; others, the ‘light infantry,’ had no armor at all – fighting alongside three-crewed chariots. Heavy foot-archers were protected by shield-bearing comrades. An impressive siege train included scaling ladders, breaching tools, mobile four- and six-wheeled rams protected with sheet metal or hides, along with boats, rafts, and inflatable animal skins used for river crossings. The Assyrians utilized precisely laid-out fortified camps that could be erected on the march. The cavalry – armed with lance, spear, and bow – were able to execute complicated tactical operations (such as how a mounted archer would be protected by a shielded comrade when firing his bow). Shalmaneser’s army reached the Upper Orontes Valley, but when they moved southwards they were blocked by a coalition of different armies that had banded together to oppose the Assyrian advance. Two of the biggest players were Aram under Ben-hadad II and Israel under Ahab. Shalmaneser’s annals have preserved the forces arrayed against him:

Hadadezer [Ben-hadad II] of Damascus: 1200 chariots, 1200 cavalrymen, 10,000 foot soldiers; Irhuleni of Hamath: 700 chariots, 700 cavalrymen, 10,000 foot-soldiers; Ahab the Israelite: 2000 chariots, 10,000 foot-soldiers; Que: 500 foot-soldiers; 1000 soldiers from Musri [either a Syrian state or Egypt]; Arqad: 10 chariots, 10,0000 soldiers; Shian: 30 chariots, 10,000 foot-soldiers; 1000 soldiers from Ammon; Gindibu the Arab: 1000 camel riders.

Taken together, the coalition’s forces numbered 3940 chariots, 1900 horse cavalry, 1000 camel riders, and 52,900 infantry. We can assume that the Assyrian historian dared not decrease the size of the enemy forces, given that Qarqar was an Assyrian defeat (to decrease the numbers would humiliate Shalmaneser). The fact that the numbers aren’t blown way out of proportion (such as we have seen at the Battle of Mount Zemaraim, for example) has led historians to concur that the numbers are probably accurate. 

Ahab fighting from his war chariot
Though Ahab is placed third on the list, it’s likely he was one of the principal players of the coalition, especially since he’d bested Aram several years before at Aphek. It’s worth noting that he had the largest contingent of chariots; his two thousand chariots numbered eight hundred more than those of Aram. This large number of chariots makes sense: we know that the militant-minded Ahab was overly fond of chariots, his alliance with the commercially-viable Phoenicians would’ve enabled him to purchase and fund numerous chariots (even if many of these were mercenary in nature), and he may even have counted some Judean chariots among his forces due to his alliance with then-king Jehoshaphat of Judah. Though Judah’s territory wasn’t advantageous to chariots, Jehoshaphat no doubt had a few of his own. Chariots were good to have in a crunch, and they were viewed as ‘markers’ of power and prestige. We know that Jehoshaphat was doing quite well as king, so it makes sense that he would have a decent number of chariots, if only because he could. The small numbers of Israelite foot-soldiers can be explained by Ahab’s reluctance to strip his country of armed forces; he had to make sure Israel was appropriately garrisoned against the Philistines to the west and tribal incursions from the east – and the Moabites needed to be kept at bay (Moab, remember, had been under tribute to Israel since the days of Ahab’s father; they were boiling against Israel’s heavy-handed lordship and could strike out at any moment). The small numbers of Israelite infantry may also reflect his use of trained regulars rather than pulling from the national levy. 

The coalition succeeded not only in repelling the Assyrian army but also in mauling it so severely that, at least for the time being, Shalmaneser III abandoned his military ambitions for Syria and the Palestinian land-bridge. Though Shalmaneser boasts that he killed 14,000 of the enemy, the fact remains that he turned around and headed home. If it was truly a victory, it was pyrrhic in nature. 

Thursday, February 13, 2020

Ahab of Israel [IV]

After Elijah's palaver with God at Mount Sinai, the narrative shifts its attention from Elijah to Ahab. The date was sometime around 860 BC, and Ben-hadad II was putting together a coalition of ’32 kings’ to invade Israel and bring her to submission. Exactly why the King of Aram decided to go to war isn’t given; however, two possibilities are possible. First, Israel’s reemergence to power under the Omride Dynasty would’ve been concerning to Aram; perhaps Ben-hadad II thought a preventative war could put Israel in her place before she grew too strong and decided to try and regain her former Solomonic possessions on the Golan Heights and elsewhere that Aram now controlled. Another possibility is that the campaign was prompted by Omri’s conquest of Moab and Israel’s consequent control of the King’s Highway on the Transjordan trade route; if Aram were to push back Israel’s boundaries and win control of the trade route, she could make a pretty penny taxing the caravans and merchants. 

We can assume the current Aramean king was the son of Ben-hadad I of 1 Kings 15, who originally allied with Baasha of Israel against Judah but then shifted his allegiance to Judah’s King Asa for a pot of gold and the chance to hew some towns from northern Israel. Charting Aramean kings is difficult, though a general consensus has given the following line-of-succession of Aramean kings for this time period: Ben-hadad I of 1 Kings 15, Ben-hadad II of 1 Kings 20 (with whom we treat now and who will continually go to war against Israel), and then Hazael (whom Yahweh appointed Elijah to anoint). We deduce that the Aramean king dealt with here is Ben-hadad II because in 1 Kings 20.34 the King of Aram speaks to Ahab of his (the Aramean king’s) father having privileges in Samaria, but Ben-hadad I’s father Hezion died before Samaria was built. Aramean chronologies aside, Ben-hadad II cobbled together what looks like a superbly impressive force: thirty-two kings! Bear in mind, however, that ‘kings’ here could include the heads of tiny principalities, tribal kings, or even minor chieftains. An assortment of city-states and tribal groups existed around Aram at this time, each of which would’ve had a ‘king.’ It isn’t difficult to envision thirty-two petty rulers joining together with their allotted household warriors to assist the King of Aram for a share in the bounty to be won. While Ben-hadad II’s force was undoubtedly large, one mustn’t assume it was an apocalyptic army – and it would’ve been one in which the Aramean king’s control was weakened by the plethora of diverse attitudes, priorities, and ambitions among the coalition members. 

the gates of Samaria
Ben-hadad’s force moved quickly, and Ahab didn’t have time to adequately respond. The Arameans outmaneuvered the main Israelite army and reached Samaria before the capital could be defended. Ahab was in the capital with Israel’s elders and district governors when the Aramean force encircled the city and threatened a siege. Cut off from the regular army, which was either still in its garrisons or had been outwitted by the Aramean approach, Israel’s king was stuck with the country’s leading functionaries (or politicians) and the ill-trained commanders of the national levy; the main army was cut off from its leaders and chief staff officers. Ben-hadad demanded that Ahab surrender his silver and gold and finest wives and children as hostages for good behavior; these were excessive demands, indicating that his goal may have been to prompt all-out war. Were Ahab to agree, his reputation would greatly suffer: his manhood would be called into question, not to mention his legitimacy as a ruler – to surrender the best of his harem was tantamount to surrendering the throne itself. Shockingly – even to Ben-hadad – Ahab agreed to the terms. Perhaps he felt like he had no choice, facing off with an overwhelming enemy force and separated from his regular army; or maybe he hoped that a mere acknowledgement of the Aramean king’s power would be enough to calm Ben-hadad’s nerves so that he wouldn’t actually come to demanding such ridiculous terms. The King of Aram, surprised at Ahab’s willingness to bend the knee, intensified his demands: he wanted to send his men into the city so that they could plunder the houses of the king and the royal officials, taking whatever they wanted for themselves. Ahab bristled at these new demands and called a meeting of the elders. The first demands had affected only Ahab, whereas these new demands affected everyone in the city; the first demands enabled Ahab to pick and choose what he’d surrender, but the new demands gave that prerogative to rampaging enemy soldiers. The elders urged him to resist the demands, as they didn’t want to be robbed of all they had, and they feared for the safety of their families. 

Ben-hadad II relaxing in his royal tent
Ahab refused Ben-hadad’s new terms, and the Aramean king vowed to make Samaria a heap of dust and boasted that his troops were so numerous that this dust would be insufficient to fill the hands of each of his soldiers. Ahab retorted with a pithy, incisive proverb consisting of only four words in the Hebrew (the proverb is still used to this day): ‘One who puts on armor should not brag like one who takes it off,’ meaning Ben-hadad was foolish to claim victory before he had it. Ben-hadad was drunk with the leaders of his coalition in his headquarters tent, well-screened by his chariots by any outside interference, when his messenger delivered Ahab’s reply, and in a rage he ordered his soldiers to take their places and begin the siege. 

Ahab, fearing the suffering that was sure to come upon the besieged city, could only look helplessly on as the Aramean troops tightened their noose around the capital. An unnamed prophet approached Ahab and said that Yahweh was giving the enemy into his hands so that Ahab would know Yahweh was Lord. God’s purpose in giving the corrupt king divine help was so that Ahab would know that Yahweh, rather than Baal, was Lord; remember that ‘Baal,’ in its simplest translation, means ‘Lord’: Yahweh was going to show that He, rather than Baal, was the real Lord. On Mount Carmel Ahab had seen Yahweh appear as a God of fire, wrath, and judgment; now He would show Himself as a God of redemption. On Carmel He’d shown Himself superior to the gods of Phoenicia; now He would show His superiority over the gods of Aram. Ahab asked the prophet how this would come about; this doesn’t indicate a lack of faith in the prophet’s words but reflects, rather, the common belief that the gods’ involvement was essential for success in battle. Kings and commanders were expected to consult their deities about timing and strategies, as Ahab did here: while pagans would consult their priests to receive oracular responses, Ahab questioned the prophet, who was Yahweh’s representative. The prophet told him that the victory would come by the ‘young men’ who served the district governors and that Ahab was to begin the battle. The identity of the ‘young men’ is debated; all that’s known is that they were servants of the district governors (who were basically politicians). Some scholars believe the ‘young men’ (who numbered 232 behind Samaria’s walls) were picked soldiers who formed the bodyguards of the district governors who had flocked to Samaria to participate in an emergency council regarding Aram’s invasion; another theory – which is more prevalent among commentators – is that the ‘young men’ were up-and-coming politicians, a sort of support staff to the governors, much like modern aids and apprentices to state officials. The latter is more likely because Yahweh was selecting an agency that was purposefully weak and feeble in order to showcase His power. These ‘young men’ were charged with commencing the counterattack; they would then be followed up by the seven thousand men of the national levy behind Samaria’s walls. 

the 232 'young men' sally forth from the city
The feeble ‘young men’ sallied forth at noon. Ben-hadad was drunk with his coalition leaders in the campaign tent, as noon was the time when people of the Near East generally took a rest from all activity. Camp sentries reported the troop movements out of Samaria’s gates and likely reported that they looked pitifully weak; the Aramean king snorted, saying, ‘If they come for peace, seize them alive; and if they come out for war, take them alive anyways.’ He probably wanted the Israelites captured so that he could torture and mock them before they were executed. The Arameans on the front lines of the siege were greedy to seize the small force of young men issuing down the city, perceiving them as nothing more than prey to be taken alive and paraded before their king. Unbeknownst to them, the 232 men were a decoy to lull the Arameans into a false sense of security: as the Arameans approached the young men, ordering them to lay down their arms, the seven thousand soldiers of the armed levy gushed from the city’s gates to overwhelm the overconfident Arameans (it’s likely that Ahab’s household chariots, as well as the elite units that formed his bodyguard, poured from the city, too, with Ahab at their head). The Israelites meant to fight, and they plowed into the coalition’s camp. The coalition leaders, drunk with Ben-hadad in the campaign headquarters, failed to muster their troops; the Aramean troops, leaderless, broke under the sudden onslaught, and the Israelites rushed through the camp. Ben-hadad barely escaped on horseback with a contingent of royal cavalry (the first mention, interestingly, of cavalry on a Palestinian battlefield); he returned to Aram broiling and shame-faced, having lost his precious royal chariot – not to mention most of his men. 

The Israelites route the Aramean Coalition
The fleeing enemy soldiers had to pass within striking distance a number of Israelite army fortresses (such as those at Shechem, Penuel, Megiddo, Tirzah, and possibly Hazor); and in order to get back to Aram, they had to navigate mountainous territory with defiles that were deathtraps to retreating soldiers. The Israelite garrisons, formerly cut off from their chief officers, were doubtless able to inflict punishing blows on the retreating forces. It’s likely that the coalition suffered more casualties in the flight through enemy territory than it did in battle before Samaria’s walls. The victory, however, was only the first stage of Yahweh’s redemption; the unnamed prophet warned Ahab that the King of Aram would return in spring the next year, when military campaigns were generally launched, and instructed Ahab to take every precaution to strengthen his army and the capital’s fortifications. Ben-hadad II had been humiliated, and that humiliation would only galvanize his hostility against Israel. Blood would be drawn again, and soon.

Ben-hadad's prophets blamed their defeat on the fact that Yahweh (they assumed) was a god of the hills; if they brought Israel to battle on the plains, Aram’s gods would have the upper hand. Peoples of the ancient Near East assumed that gods had defined territorial jurisdictions; these could be along national lines (as each nation had a patron deity) or they could be based upon topographical boundaries (such as rivers, lakes, plains, mountains, etc.). The fact that Israel was situated in mountainous country and that the capital city of Samaria was ringed by mountains and on a hill itself fueled speculation that Yahweh was a god of the mountains. To defeat Israel, then, they needed to lure the Israelite troops out of their mountain holdfasts and down into a plain. A few tactical changes were in order, too. The thirty-two kings with their diverse interests and lack of military experience only hurt the siege of 860 BC; the kings were, for the most part, political heavyweights rather than militant professionals. This time around Ben-hadad needed to replace them with trained professional commanders, and instead of trying to bring Israel to her knees by starving her into submission via siege, this time they would roll the dice with a pitched battle in a plain where Aram’s gods – not to mention Aram’s cavalry and chariotry – would have an edge. 

Thus it was in the spring of 859 BC that the King of Aram launched another invasion of Israel, this time swinging away from the approaches to Samaria and coming to a place called Aphek. The exact location is unknown, as there are at least five different Apheks in Israel. Likely options include a location six miles east of Galilee or a town located in the Plain of Esdraelon. The most viable option is the location six miles east of the Sea of Galilee. Ahab hadn’t spent the autumn and winter relaxing; he’d been strengthening Israel’s fortifications and getting her army prepared for war. When his scouts reported Ben-hadad’s movements, Ahab moved his troops to check the Aramean king’s progress. Ben-hadad in turn moved to block the Israelite advance at a narrow defile just southwest of Aphek, where he made his base camp. The narrow defile was created by two parallel river gorges and left only a steep, narrow ridge on the approach to Aphek. The enemies likely faced off against one another on either end of the defile, which was no more than 330 feet wide for about 440 yards. The Israelites were outnumbered: compared to the Aramean host, they looked like two little flocks of goats. The unnamed prophet assured Ahab of coming victory, reporting that because the Arameans thought Yahweh was impotent in the valleys, He was going to show them what He was made of. Through the coming victory, neighboring nations would learn of the power of Israel’s God, and apostate Israel would be provided yet another proof of Yahweh’s power. 

The Battle of Aphek
The two armies faced each other across the defile for seven days. This may have been because the sacred number seven was viewed, superstitiously, as the best time for an attack; or, perhaps, given the nature of the defile, neither side wanted to launch the attack (the terrain gave a solid advantage to whoever played defense). On the seventh day, battle was joined, and the Israelites ‘smote’ one hundred thousand foot soldiers in a single day (the Hebrew word for ‘smote’ can refer to both killed and wounded). The rest of Ben-hadad’s army flocked into the fortified city of Aphek, which was in the hands of the Arameans. The Bible doesn’t give any details regarding how victory was achieved, but one theory is that the Israelites outflanked the Arameans. The defile has two flanking approaches, so it would’ve been possible for the Israelites to make a detour around the Arameans and attack them from the sides or rear. Given seven days of facing each other before giving battle, Ahab would’ve had ample time to reconnoiter the enemy and the lay of the land. The Bible does tell us that one of Aphek’s walls fell on 27,000 of Ben-hadad’s soldiers seeking refuge behind Aphek’s fortress walls; this could refer to an earthquake toppling the walls or to the walls falling due to Israelite undermining efforts. 

modern Aphek; the fortress dates to the Ottomans in the
16th century AD
Trapped in Aphek, having fled into an inner chamber of the fortress, Ben-hadad II’s servants implored him to seek mercy with Ahab so that they’d be spared. They argued that they should dress themselves in sackcloth (a coarse, uncomfortable garment made of goat or camel hair), put a rope on their heads (or around their necks) as a sign of repentance and submission, and beg Ahab for mercy. Rumor had it that Israelite kings had a merciful bent. Ben-hadad took their concerns at face value and dispatched messengers to probe Ahab’s willingness to treat with him. Ahab referred to Ben-hadad as his ‘brother,’ indicating a certain level of respect and equality between the two heads of opposing nations. The Aramean king went out to meet with Ahab, and Ahab did a shocking thing: he invited him up into his chariot. This showed favor and a desire for reconciliation; whereas vassals ‘ran by the wheel’ of the chariot, Ahab was treating Ben-hadad as a respected equal by inviting him up into the royal chariot. There the two of them hammered out the Treaty of Aphek: Ben-hadad would restore the towns that his father Ben-hadad I had taken from Ahab’s ‘grandfather,’ or predecessor, King Baasha; Ahab would be allowed to establish an Israelite quarter or market in Damascus, Aram’s capital, in which Israelite merchants could live and trade. With the treaty signed and sealed, Ben-hadad II was allowed to depart with his army intact.

Ahab’s generosity would be met with a sharp rebuke from the prophets of God, but he had good (secular) reasons for being so relenting. He was a far-sighted ruler, and he sought to use Ben-hadad’s desperate situation to his benefit. First (but not foremost), Ahab likely hoped to break the unrelenting cycle of wars between Israel and Aram. Were his terms to be absolutely humiliating, they would rile up the bad blood even more; besides, if he were to return Ben-hadad’s favor and invade Aram, he wouldn’t have the manpower or resources to effectively control any gains. Second, Ahab had commercial concerns: by opening an Israelite quarters in Damascus, he would expand Israelite trade and plug into heretofore unreachable trade avenues. But thirdly, and most importantly, Ahab wanted Aram to be strong because she served as a buffer between Israel and the growing Assyrian threat. The Assyrians were rising in the east and would need to be checked (Assyrian texts tell us that both Ahab and Ben-hadad II contributed troops to a coalition that did just that at the Battle of Qarqar in 853 BC). With Assyria’s power growing, and with her led by a new king who was known for his ruthless and cruel expansionist policies, Ahab figured it’d be better to have a friend and ally to the north rather than a belligerent. If Ahab were to strip Aram of her manpower and resources, he would, in effect, be opening the floodgates for an Assyrian foray into Israel. Thus, while it was customary for defeated armies to surrender their men or arms to the victors, Ahab made no such demands on the defeated King of Aram. Ben-hadad II was but a garter snake in the rose bushes; Assyria was a cobra uncoiling on the doorstep.

The biblical narrative shifts to recount a strange episode among the prophets of God. In a group of prophets, one prophet commanded another, ‘Hit me!’ The prophet refused to strike his comrade, so the first prophet told him that because he refused to obey the voice of Yahweh, he’d be killed by a lion – and it happened just as the prophet said (making this the second prophet who violated an explicit command of God and paid for it with his life, and in both cases the sentence was carried out by a lion). The first prophet told another prophet to strike him, and this one wisely did, wounding him in the head. The prophet wrapped his injury and went out to the road and waited for King Ahab to pass by. King Ahab, fresh from victory over Ben-hadad II, was traveling back to Samaria with his royal entourage. As he passed by on the road, the prophet demanded an audience with the king. His bodyguards let him through, and the prophet – disguised as a wounded soldier – told Ahab that he’d been placed in charge of a prisoner and had been unjustly commanded by a superior officer to hold the prisoner on pain of death (or for the price of 75 pounds of silver, which both indicated the prisoner’s importance and which was an exorbitant amount a common soldier could never pay). The disguised prophet told him that he’d lost the prisoner and wished the king to pronounce judgment. Ahab said that he should indeed die for his incompetence, judging the death penalty to be just; a soldier who allowed a prisoner to escape forfeited his own life. 

The prophet then removed the bandage, and Ahab recognized him – much to his horror. The prophet gave him the word of Yahweh: ‘Because you let Ben-hadad go, whom I had devoted to destruction, your life will be for his life, and your people for his people.’ God had appointed the King of Aram to destruction; he was a condemned man. Yet the king to whom God had granted the victory had dismissed Ben-hadad II instead of executing him. He’d ‘lost’ his prisoner. Therefore Ahab would forfeit his life for that of Ben-hadad’s. By means of his ploy, the prophet had gotten Ahab to pronounce judgment on himself (in a manner akin to that of King David and the prophet Nathan after the Bathsheba affair). The strange opening of this episode – one prophet refusing to slap another and being killed by a lion because of it – focused the spotlight on Ahab’s crime: just as the first prophet who refused to slap another was disobeying God from an impulse of kindness and civility, so, too, Ahab had refused to obey God and shown kindness where kindness was not warranted. Yahweh’s commands are to be followed, regardless of how they may chafe against one’s dispositions. 

God’s strict judgment on Ahab must take into account two facts: first, Ahab wasn’t free to do as he wanted with Ahab; this had been God’s war and God’s victory. Ahab should’ve consulted through priests or prophets to determine what Yahweh wanted him to do with the cornered Aramean king. Second, Ben-hadad II had already shown himself of cruel and untrustworthy temperament; in the interests of Israel’s future, Ahab should’ve executed the invader when he had the chance. Though peace had been forged, and though they would indeed stand side-by-side as brothers against Shalmaneser III in 593, Ben-hadad II wouldn’t follow through on his promises at Aphek and the two would be fighting each other again – and Ahab, true to the prophet’s words, would lose his life while Ben-hadad kept his. 

Christian Nationalism: Potent Quotables

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