Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Book of Judith’s impact upon Greco-Roman and Arabic myths. Part One: Cunning Sinon deceiving the Trojans


 

Image result

 

by

 

Damien F. Mackey

 

 

 

Just as Sinon, when brought before the Trojan king Priam, promises that he ‘will confess the whole truth’ – though having no intention of doing that – so does Judith lie to Holofernes: ‘I will say nothing false to my lord this night’ (Judith 11:5).

 

 

 

A correspondent from France is trying to convince me that:

 

Yes, Agamemnon existed and so did Ulysses.


….


Yes, Trojan War occurred, and so did Ulysses' homecoming.

 

However, I, in my article:

 

Similarities to The Odyssey of the Books of Job and Tobit

 


 

was at pains to show that the history of Tobias (= Job), fixed in the C8th BC neo-Assyrian era, was the basis for some major parts of Homer’s fictitious The Odyssey.

And, elsewhere, I have asked the question regarding the Book of Judith and Homer (The Iliad, this time) - and now introducing Sinon:


If the very main theme of The Iliad may have been lifted by the Greeks from the Book of Judith, then might not even the Homeric idea of the Trojan Horse ruse to capture Troy have been inspired by Judith’s own ruse to take the Assyrian camp?

 

Before going on to add this note:

 

[According to R. Graves, The Greek Myths (Penguin Books, combined ed., 1992), p. 697 (1, 2): “Classical commentators on Homer were dissatisfied with the story of the wooden horse. They suggested, variously, that the Greeks used a horse-like engine for breaking down the walls (Pausanias: i. 23. 10) … that Antenor admitted the Greeks into Troy by a postern which had a horse painted on it…. Troy is quite likely to have been stormed by means of a wheeled wooden tower, faced with wet horse hides as a protection against incendiary darts…”. …. (Pausanius 2nd century AD: Wrote `Description of Greece’. )].

 

And then proceeding to make this radical re-assessement of Virgil’s character, Sinon:

 

What may greatly serve to strengthen this suggestion is the uncannily ‘Judith-like’ trickery of a certain Sinon, a wily Greek, as narrated in the detailed description of the Trojan Horse in Book Two of Virgil’s Aeneid. Sinon, whilst claiming to have become estranged from his own people, because of their treachery and sins, was in fact bent upon deceiving the Trojans about the purpose of the wooden horse, in order “to open Troy to the Greeks”.

 

I shall set out here the main parallels that I find on this score between the Aeneid and the Book of Judith.

 

Firstly, the name Sinon may recall Judith’s ancestor Simeon, son of Israel (Judith 8:1; 9:2).

Whilst Sinon, when apprehended by the enemy, is “dishevelled” and “defenceless”, Judith, also defenseless, is greatly admired for her appearance by the members of the Assyrian patrol who apprehend her (Judith 10:14). As Sinon is asked sympathetically by the Trojans ‘what he had come to tell …’ and ‘why he had allowed himself to be taken prisoner’, so does the Assyrian commander-in-chief, Holofernes, ‘kindly’ ask Judith: ‘… tell me why you have fled from [the Israelites] and have come over to us?’

Just as Sinon, when brought before the Trojan king Priam, promises that he ‘will confess the whole truth’ – though having no intention of doing that – so does Judith lie to Holofernes: ‘I will say nothing false to my lord this night’ (Judith 11:5).

Sinon then gives his own treacherous acccount of events, including the supposed sacrileges of the Greeks due to their tearing of the Palladium, image of the goddess Athene, from her own sacred Temple in Troy; slaying the guards on the heights of the citadel and then daring to touch the sacred bands on the head of the virgin goddess with blood on their hands. For these ‘sacrileges’ the Greeks were doomed.

Likewise Judith assures Holofernes of victory because of the supposed sacrilegious conduct that the Israelites have planned (e.g. to eat forbidden and consecrated food), even in Jerusalem (11:11-15).

Sinon concludes – in relation to the Trojan options regarding what to do with the enigmatic wooden horse – with an Achior-like statement: ‘For if your hands violate this offering to Minerva, then total destruction shall fall upon the empire of Priam and the Trojans…. But if your hands raise it up into your city, Asia shall come unbidden in a mighty war to the walls of Pelops, and that is the fate in store for our descendants’. Whilst Sinon’s words were full of cunning, Achior had been sincere when he had warned Holofernes – in words to which Judith will later allude deceitfully (11:9-10): ‘So now, my master and my lord, if there is any oversight in this people [the Israelites] and they sin against their God and we find out their offense, then we can go up against them and defeat them. But if they are not a guilty nation, then let my lord pass them by; for their Lord and God will defend them, and we shall become the laughing-stock of the whole world’ (Judith 5:20-21). [Similarly, Achilles fears to become ‘a laughing-stock and a burden of the earth’ (Plato’s Apologia, Scene I, D. 5)]. These, Achior’s words, were the very ones that had so enraged Holofernes and his soldiers (vv.22-24). And they would give the Greeks the theme for their greatest epic, The Iliad.

 

My correspondent from France’s respect for the alleged veracity of the pagan Greek myths is shared, it seems, by Johan Weststeijn in his article “Zenobia of Palmyra and the Book of Judith: Common Motifs in Greek, Jewish, and Arabic Historiography”:


Author Weststeijn is of the opinion - and it is a typical one - that the Book of Judith (as well as the Arabic Zenobia) was based on an earlier work, or “Vorlage”, with Achior of the Book of Judith being an ‘adaptation’ of Sinon at Troy. Thus:



Abstract:

 

This article points to the many parallels between the book of Judith and the Arabic account of the life and death of Zenobia of Palmyra. By comparing these two stories with the episode about Zopyros in Herodotus’ Histories and the episode about Sinon in accounts of the fall of Troy, it argues that these similarities can only be explained if we assume that the book of Judith and the Arabic Zenobia Legend are adaptations of the same Vorlage, an earlier story that contained a Holofernes motif (heroine kills enemy) and a Sinon motif (enemy deceives heroine). When this Vorlage was adapted to create the book of Judith, the part of the deceiving Sinon was adapted to create the role of the sincere Achior, whereby he lost his function in the story and became a blind motif.

 

Sinon tells the Trojans that the Greeks have built the wooden horse as an offering to the goddess Athena, and that they built it this big to prevent the Trojans from bringing it inside their walls, for if the Trojans would succeed in doing so, Athena would make Troy invincible.

 

The trouble is that the goddess Athena (Athene) can be, in The Iliad and The Odyssey, a paganised version of a lofty biblical character.

Take The Odyssey first, in which Athene replaces the angel Raphael of the Book of Tobit.

I have previously written on this:

 

  1. The Heavenly Visitor

 

The prayers of Tobit and Sarah, on the one hand, and of Odysseus and Penelope, on the other, were heard. Almighty God appointed the angel Raphael to assist the former two. And Zeus (supreme god of the Greeks) appointed the goddess Athene to assist the latter two.

With Odysseus still languishing as Calypso’s captive, and the suitors at play back at his home, “the almighty Father” sent Athene to Ithaca. “… she bound under her feet her lovely sandals of untarnished gold, which carried her with the speed of the wind …. Thus she flashed down from the heights of Olympus. On reaching Ithaca she took her stand on the threshhold of the court in front of Odysseus’ house; and to look like a visitor she assumed the appearance of a Taphian chieftain named Mentes, a bronze spear in hand (I, 27-28).

The reader will quickly be able to pick up the similarities between this text and this relevant part of the Book of Tobit: “The prayer of [Tobit and Sarah] was heard in the presence of the glory of the great God. And Raphael was sent (3:16, 17)”. “Then Tobias … found a beautiful young man, standing girded, as it were ready to walk. And not knowing that he was an angel of God, he saluted him …. ‘I am Azarias, the son of the great Ananias’” (5:5, 6, 18).

 

(b) The Questioning

 

Tobit had interrogated the angel about the latter’s identity, asking: ‘My brother, to what tribe and family do you belong? Tell me …’ (5:9-12). Later Raguel would do the same: ‘Where are you from brethren? …. Do you know our brother Tobit? …. Is he in good health?’ (7:3, 4). [Cf. Isaiah 39:3; Judith 5:3, 4; Jonah 1:8].

In The Odyssey, too, the pattern is again most frequent, almost monotonous but with a Greek seafaring slant – e.g. the mention of a “vessel”. Telemachus, for instance, quizzes Athene: ‘However, do tell me who you are and where you come from. What is your native town? Who are your people? And since you certainly cannot have come on foot, what kind of vessel brought you here? (I, 29). [Cf. also pp. 72; 118; 164; 175; 208; 220].

Athene then replied to Telemachus, using a phrase that I suggest may have come straight out of the Book of Tobit, towards the end of which story the angel Raphael says : ‘I will not conceal anything from you’ (12:11). Thus Athene: “‘I will tell you everything’, answered the bright-eyed goddess Athene. ‘My father was the wise prince, Anchialus. My own name is Mentes, and I am a chieftain of the sea-faring Taphians’.” Now Anchialus, the name that Athene (in masculine guise) gave for her presumed father, has at least a vague resemblance to the name, Ananias, which the angel Raphael (also in masculine guise) attributed to his presumed father from the tribe of Naphtali. Athene also describes herself as a Taphian, in which name we might perhaps also glimpse Naphtalian.

….

 

Now, turning to The Iliad, the goddess Athene this time more appropriately replaces a female - the heroine Judith herself.

In my article:

 

World Renowned Judith of Bethulia

 


 

I wrote on this as follows:

 

Some ancient stories that can be only vaguely historical seem to recall the Judith incident. Two of these that I picked up in my thesis appear in the ‘Lindian Chronicle’ (dated 99 BC), relating to the Greco-Persian period, and in Homer’s classic, The Iliad.

 

The Lindian Chronicle

 

Thus I wrote in my thesis (… Volume Two, pp. 67-68):

 

Uzziah, confirming Judith’s high reputation, immediately recognized the truth of what she had just said (vv. 28-29), whilst adding the blatantly Aaronic excuse that ‘the people made us do it’ (v. 30, cf. Exodus 32:21-24): ‘But the people were so thirsty that they compelled us to do for them what we have promised, and made us take an oath that we cannot break’. Judith, now forced to work within the time-frame of those ‘five days’ that had been established against her will, then makes this bold pronouncement – again completely in the prophetic, or even ‘apocalyptic’, style of Joan of Arc (vv. 32-33):

Then Judith said to them, ‘Listen to me. I am about to do something that will go down through all generations to our descendants. Stand at the town gate tonight so that I may go out with my maid; and within the days after which you have promised to surrender the town to our enemies, the Lord will deliver Israel by my hand’.

A Note. This 5-day time frame, in connection with a siege – the very apex of the [Book of Judith] drama – may also have been appropriated into Greco-Persian folklore.

In the ‘Lindian Chronicle’ it is narrated that when Darius, King of Persia, tried to conquer the Island of Hellas, the people gathered in the stronghold of Lindus to withstand the attack. The citizens of the besieged city asked their leaders to surrender because of the hardships and sufferings brought by the water shortage (cf. Judith 7:20-28).

The Goddess Athena [read Judith] advised one of the leaders [read Uzziah] to continue to resist the attack; meanwhile she interceded with her father Jupiter [read God of Israel] on their behalf (cf. Judith 8:9-9:14). Thereupon, the citizens asked for a truce of 5 days (exactly as in Judith), after which, if no help arrived, they would surrender (cf. Judith 7:30-31). On the second day a heavy shower fell on the city so the people could have sufficient water (cf. 8:31, where Uzziah asks Judith to pray for rain). Datis [read Holofernes], the admiral of the Persian fleet [read commander-in-chief of the Assyrian army], having witnessed the particular intervention of the Goddess to protect the city, lifted the siege [rather, the siege was forcibly raised]. ….

 

Apparently I am not the only one who has noticed the similarity between these two stories, for I now find this (http://www.earlyjewishwritings.com/judith.html): “The Israeli scholar Y. M. Grintz has pointed out the parallels between the theme of the book [Judith] and an episode which took place during the siege of Lindus, on the island of Rhodes, but here again the comparison is extremely weak”.

Yes, the latter is probably just a “weak” appropriation of the original Hebrew account. ….

 

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Not so ‘Hot Gates’ of Thermopylae




10-facts-battle-of-thermopylae_8 


by

 Damien F. Mackey

 

 

 

 

Scholars have wondered about the incredible size of the Persian army.

“Almost all are agreed that Herodotus’ figure of 2,100,000, exclusive of followers, for the army (Bk VII. 184-85) is impossible” wrote F. Maurice in 1930.

 

 

 

Introductory

 

Professor Paul Cartledge’s well written book about the alleged Battle of Thermopylae between the Spartans and the Persians in 480 BC holds firmly to the familiar line of British writers and historians that our Western civilisation was based front and centre upon the Greeks.

 

Thus, for instance, he writes in his book, Thermopylae: The Battle That Changed the World (Macmillan, 2006, p. 4):

 

“The Greeks were second to none in embracing that contrary combination of the ghastly and the ennobling, which takes us straight back to the fount and origin of Western culture and ‘civilization’ - to Homer’s Iliad, the first masterpiece of all Western literature; to Aeschylus’s Persians, the first surviving masterpiece of Western drama; to the coruscating war epigrams of Simonides and, last but most relevantly of all, to Herodotus’s Histories, the first masterpiece of Western historiography”.

 

And this is not the only occasion in his book where professor Cartledge expresses such effusive sentiments.

 

The problem is, however, that - as it seems to me, at least - these very foundations, these so-called ‘founts and origins’ of ‘Western culture and civilization’, had for their very own bases some significant non-Greek influences and inspirations.

An important one of these non-Greek influences was the Book of Judith, traditionally thought to have been written substantially by the high-priest Joakim in c. 700 BC. See my article:

 

Author of the Book of Judith

 


 

Compare that to the uncertainty of authorship surrounding those major works labelled Homeric (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homer):

 

The Homeric Question—by whom, when, where and under what circumstances were the Iliad and Odyssey composed—continues to be debated. Broadly speaking, modern scholarly opinion falls into two groups. One holds that most of the Iliad and (according to some) the Odyssey are the works of a single poet of genius. The other considers the Homeric poems to be the result of a process of working and re-working by many contributors, and that "Homer" is best seen as a label for an entire tradition.[

 

On previous occasions I have suggested that parts of The Iliad had appropriated key incidents to be found in the Book of Judith, with ‘Helen’ taking her cue from the Jewish heroine, Judith.

Accordingly, I have written:

 

“As for Judith, the Greeks appear to have substituted this beautiful Jewish heroine with their own legendary Helen, whose ‘face launched a thousand ships’. Compare for instance these striking similarities (Judith and The Iliad):

 

The beautiful woman praised by the elders at the city gates:

 

"When [the elders of Bethulia] saw [Judith] transformed in appearance and dressed differently, they were very greatly astounded at her beauty" (Judith 10:7).

 

"Now the elders of the people were sitting by the Skaian gates…. When they saw Helen coming … they spoke softly to each other with winged words: 'No shame that the Trojans and the well-greaved Achaians should suffer agonies for long years over a woman like this - she is fearfully like the immortal goddesses to look at'" [The Iliad., pp. 44-45].

 

This theme of incredible beauty - plus the related view that "no shame" should be attached to the enemy on account of it - is picked up again a few verses later in the Book of Judith (v.19) when the Assyrian soldiers who accompany Judith and her maid to Holofernes "marveled at [Judith's] beauty and admired the Israelites, judging them by her … 'Who can despise these people, who have women like this among them?'"

 

Nevertheless:

 

'It is not wise to leave one of their men alive, for if we let them go they will be able to beguile the whole world!' (Judith 10:19).

 

'But even so, for all her beauty, let her go back in the ships, and not be left here a curse to us and our children'.

 

The dependence of The Iliad upon the Book of Judith may go even deeper, though, to its very main theme. For, previously I had written:

 

“Achilles

 

Many similarities have been noted too between The Iliad and the Old Testament, including the earlier-mentioned likenesses between the young Bellerophon and Joseph. Again, Achilles' being pursued by the river Xanthos which eventually turns dry (Book 21) reminds one of Moses' drying up of the sea (Exodus 14:21).

 

Was there really a person by the name of Agamemnon? [See Is Homer Historical? in Archaeology Odyssey, May/Jun 2004, pp. 26-35]. The interview of Professor Nagy of Harvard says `no, there wasn't.'

 

Achilles’ fierce argument with Agamemnon, commander-in-chief of the Greeks, at Troy - Achilles' anger being the very theme of The Iliad [Introduction, p. xvi: "The Iliad announces its subject in the first line. The poem will tell of the anger of Achilleus and its consequences - consequences for the Achaians, the Trojans, and Achilleus himself"] - is merely a highly dramatized Greek version of the disagreement in the Book of Judith between Achior [a name not unlike the ‘Greek’ Achilles] and the furious Assyrian commander-in-chief, "Holofernes", at the siege of Bethulia, Judith's town”.

 

And the famous Trojan Horse?

I continued:

 

“If the very main theme of The Iliad may have been lifted by the Greeks from the Book of Judith, then might not even the Homeric idea of the Trojan Horse ruse to capture Troy have been inspired by Judith's own ruse to take the Assyrian camp? [According to R. Graves, The Greek Myths (Penguin Books, combined ed., 1992), p. 697 (1, 2. My emphasis):

 

"Classical commentators on Homer were dissatisfied with the story of the wooden horse. They suggested, variously, that the Greeks used a horse-like engine for breaking down the walls (Pausanias: i. 23. 10) … that Antenor admitted the Greeks into Troy by a postern which had a horse painted on it….Troy is quite likely to have been stormed by means of a wheeled wooden tower, faced with wet horse hides as a protection against incendiary darts…".

(Pausanius 2nd century AD: Wrote `Description of Greece'.)].

 

What may greatly serve to strengthen this suggestion is the uncannily 'Judith-like' trickery of a certain Sinon, a wily Greek, as narrated in the detailed description of the Trojan Horse in Book Two of Virgil's Aeneid. Sinon, whilst claiming to have become estranged from his own people, because of their treachery and sins, was in fact bent upon deceiving the Trojans about the purpose of the wooden horse, in order "to open Troy to the Greeks".

 

I shall set out here the main parallels that I find on this score between the Aeneid and the Book of Judith.

 

Firstly, the name Sinon may recall Judith's ancestor Simeon, son of Israel (Judith 8:1; 9:2).

Whilst Sinon, when apprehended by the enemy, is "dishevelled" and "defenceless", Judith, also defenseless, is greatly admired for her appearance by the members of the Assyrian patrol who apprehend her (Judith 10:14). As Sinon is asked sympathetically by the Trojans 'what he had come to tell …' and 'why he had allowed himself to be taken prisoner', so does the Assyrian commander-in-chief, Holofernes, 'kindly' ask Judith: '… tell me why you have fled from [the Israelites] and have come over to us?'

Just as Sinon, when brought before the Trojan king Priam, promises that he 'will confess the whole truth' – though having no intention of doing that – so does Judith lie to Holofernes: 'I will say nothing false to my lord this night' (Judith 11:5).

Sinon then gives his own treacherous account of events, including the supposed sacrileges of the Greeks due to their tearing of the Palladium, image of the goddess Athene, from her own sacred Temple in Troy; slaying the guards on the heights of the citadel and then daring to touch the sacred bands on the head of the virgin goddess with blood on their hands. For these 'sacrileges' the Greeks were doomed.

Likewise Judith assures Holofernes of victory because of the supposed sacrilegious conduct that the Israelites have planned (e.g. to eat forbidden and consecrated food), even in Jerusalem (11:11-15).

Sinon concludes – in relation to the Trojan options regarding what to do with the enigmatic wooden horse – with an Achior-like statement: 'For if your hands violate this offering to Minerva, then total destruction shall fall upon the empire of Priam and the Trojans…. But if your hands raise it up into your city, Asia shall come unbidden in a mighty war to the walls of Pelops, and that is the fate in store for our descendants'. Whilst Sinon's words were full of cunning, Achior had been sincere when he had warned Holofernes – in words to which Judith will later allude deceitfully (11:9-10): 'So now, my master and my lord, if there is any oversight in this people [the Israelites] and they sin against their God and we find out their offense, then we can go up against them and defeat them. But if they are not a guilty nation, then let my lord pass them by; for their Lord and God will defend them, and we shall become the laughing-stock of the whole world' (Judith 5:20-21). [Similarly, Achilles fears to become 'a laughing-stock and a burden of the earth' (Plato's Apologia, Scene I, D. 5)]. These, Achior's words, were the very ones that had so enraged Holofernes and his soldiers (vv.22-24). And they would give the Greeks the theme for their greatest epic, The Iliad”.

 

But all of this is as nothing when compared to what I have found to be the multiple:

 


 


 

this Semitic literature presumably well pre-dating the fairy-tale Greek efforts.

 

Unsatisfactory Foundations

 

“It concerns a supposed night attack by loyalist Greeks on Xerxes’s camp in the very middle of the Thermopylae campaign with the aim of assassinating the Great King”.

 

Herodotus

 

So much concerning the truth of the supposed Battle of Thermopylae rests with Herodotus, whose Histories are thought to come closest of all to being a primary source for the account. “He and [the poet] Simonides” are, according to professor Paul Cartledge, the “principal contemporary Greek written source for Thermopylae”. And, on p. 224: “… Herodotus in my view remains as good as it gets: we either write a history of Thermopylae with him, or we do not write one at all”.

One problem with this is that Herodotus was known as (alongside his more favourable epithet, the “Father of History”) - as professor Cartledge has also noted - the “Father of Lies”.

 

Where does Greek history actually begin?

The history of Philosophy - of whose origins the Greeks are typically credited - begins with shadowy ‘Ionian Greeks’, such as Thales of Miletus, whose real substance I believe resides in the very wise Joseph of Egypt (the genius Imhotep of Egypt’s Third Dynasty).

Likewise the legendary Pythagoras.

For an overview of all of this, see my:

 

Re-Orienting to Zion the History of Ancient Philosophy

 


 

Already I have de-Grecised such supposedly historical characters as Solon the Athenian statesman (who is but a Greek version of the Israelite King Solomon, and whose ‘laws’ appear to have been borrowed, at least in part, from the Jew, Nehemiah); Thales; Pythagoras; Empedocles, an apparent re-incarnation of Moses (Freud).

And I have shown that Greek classics such as The Iliad and the Odyssey were heavily dependent upon earlier Hebrew literature.

The ancient biblical scholar, Saint Jerome (c. 400 AD), had already noted, according to Orthodox pastor, Patrick H. Reardon (The Wide World of Tobit. Apocrypha’s Tobit and Literary Tradition), the resemblance of Tobit to Homer’s The Odyssey. The example that pastor Reardon gives, though, so typical of the biblical commentator’s tendency to infer pagan influence upon Hebrew literature, whilst demonstrating a definite similarity between Tobit and the Greek literature, imagines the author of Tobit to have appropriated a colourful episode from The Odyssey and inserted it into Tobit 11:9:


 

“The resemblance of Tobit to the Odyssey in particular was not lost on that great student of literature, Jerome, as is evident in a single detail of his Latin translation of Tobit in the Vulgate. Intrigued by the literary merit of Tobit, but rejecting its canonicity, the jocose and sometimes prankish Jerome felt free to insert into his version an item straight out of the Odyssey—namely, the wagging of the dog’s tail on arriving home with Tobias in 11:9—Tunc praecucurrit canis, qui simul fuerat in via, et quasi nuntius adveniens blandimento suae caudae gaudebat—“Then the dog, which had been with them in the way, ran before, and coming as if it had brought the news, showed his joy by his fawning and wagging his tail.”16 No other ancient version of Tobit mentions either the tail or the wagging, but Jerome, ever the classicist, was confident his readers would remember the faithful but feeble old hound Argus, as the final act of his life, greeting the return of Odysseus to the home of his father: “he endeavored to wag his tail” (Odyssey 17.302). And to think that we owe this delightful gem to Jerome’s rejection of Tobit’s canonicity!”

 

Reardon, continuing his theme of the dependence of Tobit, in part, upon, as he calls it here, “pagan themes”, finds further commonality with Greek literature, especially Antigone:

 

“Furthermore, some readers have found in Tobit similarities to still other pagan themes, such as the legend of Admetus. …. More convincing, I believe, however, are points of contact with classical Greek theater. Martin Luther observed similarities between Tobit and Greek comedy … but one is even more impressed by resemblances that the Book of Tobit bears to a work of Greek tragedy—the Antigone of Sophocles. In both stories the moral stature of the heroes is chiefly exemplified in their bravely burying the dead in the face of official prohibition and at the risk of official punishment. In both cases a venerable moral tradition is maintained against a political tyranny destructive of piety. That same Greek drama, moreover, provides a further parallel to the blindness of Tobit in the character of blind Teiresias, himself also a man of an inner moral vision important to the theme of the play”.

 

In light of all this - and what I have given above is very far from being exhaustive - and appreciating that those conventionally labelled as ‘Ionian Greeks’ may actually have been, in their origins, Hebrew biblical characters, then just how real is Herodotus of Ionian Greece (Halicarnassus)?

And, can we be sure that the Histories attributed to him have been (anywhere nearly) properly dated?

His name, Herod-, with a Greek ending (-otus), may actually bespeak a non-Greek ethnicity, and, indeed, a later period of time (say, closer to a Dionysius of Halicarnassus, C1st BC).

 

Xerxes

 

But, whatever may be the case with Herodotus, his classical version of “Xerxes” seems to have been based very heavily upon the Assyrian Great King, Sennacherib - another Book of Judith connection, given my view that Sennacherib was the actual Assyrian ruler of Nineveh named “Nebuchadnezzar” in Judith. E.g. 1:1: “In the twelfth year of the reign of Nebuchadnez′zar, who ruled over the Assyrians in the great city of Nin′eveh …”. Emmet Sweeney has marvellously shown this in the following comparisons (The Ramessides, Medes and Persians): 

SENNACHERIB
 
XERXES
Made war on Egypt in his third year, and fought a bitter war against the Greeks shortly thereafter.
Made war on Egypt in his second year, and fought a bitter war against the Greeks shortly thereafter.
Suppressed two major Babylonian rebellions. The first, in his second year, was led by Bel-Shimanni. The second, years later, was led by Shamash-eriba.
Suppressed two major Babylonian rebellions. The first, in his third year, was led by Bel-ibni. The second, years later, was led by Mushezib-Marduk.
The Babylonians were well-treated after the first rebellion, but savagely repressed after the second, when they captured and murdered Sennacherib’s viceroy, his own brother Ashur-nadin-shum.
The Babylonians were well-treated after the first rebellion, but savagely repressed after the second, when they captured and murdered Xerxes’ satrap.
After the second rebellion, Sennacherib massacred the inhabitants, razed the city walls and temples, and carried off the golden stature of Marduk. Thereafter the Babylonian gods were suppressed in favour of Ashur, who was made the supreme deity.
After the second rebellion, Xerxes massacred the inhabitants, razed the city walls and temples, and carried off the golden stature of Bel-Marduk. Thereafter the Babylonian gods were suppressed in favour of Ahura-Mazda, who was made the supreme deity.

 

Though I do not deny for a moment that Persia had a King Xerxes, a shortened version of Artaxerxes, the “Xerxes” of the Greeks is, however, purely fictitious.

Diodorus of Sicily, C1st BC (presuming he did actually write later than Herodotus), will contribute to the fiction by including a Judith element (not mentioned by Herodotus) to the tale of “Xerxes” at Thermopylae. It is, in my opinion, just a re-run version of the assassination of “Holofernes”, admixed, perhaps, with the regicide of Sennacherib.

Professor Cartledge has written of it (op. cit., p. 232): “It concerns a supposed night attack by loyalist Greeks on Xerxes’s camp in the very middle of the Thermopylae campaign with the aim of assassinating the Great King”.

 

Based on the Book of Judith Drama

 

 

Morton Scott Enslin has intuitively referred to the Book of Judith’s Bethulia incident as the “Judean Thermopylae” (The Book of Judith: Greek Text with an English Translation, p. 80).

 

 

 

Comparisons between Book of Judith

and the Battle of Thermopylae

 

In both dramas we are introduced to a Great King ruling in the East, who determines to conquer the West with a massive army.

Scholars have wondered about the incredible size of the Persian army.

“Almost all are agreed that Herodotus’ figure of 2,100,000, exclusive of followers, for the army (Bk VII. 184-85) is impossible” wrote F. Maurice in 1930 (“The Size of the Army of Xerxes in the Invasion of Greece 480 B. C.”, JHS, Vol. 50, Part 2 (1930), p. 211).

 

Sennacherib’s Assyrian army of 185,000 was likely - discounting, as an unrealistic translation, the one million-strong army of “Zerah the Ethiopian” - the largest army ever to that time (and possibly even much later) to have been assembled. Apart from Kings, Chronicles and Isaiah, the same figure is referred to again in Maccabees, and in Herodotus’ Histories. The figure is not unrealistic for the neo-Assyrians, given that King Shalmaneser III is known to have fielded an army of 120,000 men. (Fragments of the royal annals, from Calah, 3. lines 99–102: “In my fourteenth year, I mustered the people of the whole wide land, in countless numbers. I crossed the Euphrates at its flood with 120,000 of my soldiers”).

 

Invading from the East, the armies must of necessity approach, now Greece, now Judah, from the North.

 

Having successfully conquered everything in their path so far, the victors find that those peoples yet unconquered will speedily hand themselves over to their more powerful assailants. This process is known as ‘Medizing’ in the classical literature.

In the Book of Judith, the all-conquering commander-in-chief, “Holofernes”, will receive as allies those who had formerly been his foes. And these, like the treacherous ones in the Thermopylae drama, will prove to be a thorn in the flesh of the few who have determined to resist the foreign onslaught. 

 

The armies arrive at a narrow pass, with defenders blocking their way.

Thermopylae in the Herodotean account – Bethulia (best identified as Shechem) in the biblical Book of Judith.

 

Dethroned Spartan King Demaratus, now an exile in Persia, will answer all of Xerxes’s questions about the Greek opposition, promising the King “to tell the whole truth—the kind of truth that you will not be able to prove false at a later date”.

Most similarly Achior, probably born in Assyrian exile, will advise “Holofernes” about the Israelites, promising his superior (Judith 5:5): ‘I will tell you the truth about these people who live in the mountains near your camp. I will not lie to you’.

 

A traitorous Greek, Ephialtes, will betray his country by telling the Persians of another pass around the mountains.

Likewise, the turncoat local Edomites and Moabites will advise the Assyrians of a strategy better than the one that they had been intending.

 

Conclusion

 

The so-called Battle of Thermopylae never happened.

No band of 300 pederastic homosexuals ever held the line against a massive Persian army.

The classical Xerxes is a complete fiction.

“Thermopylae: the Battle that changed the word”, in fact “changed” nothing.

 

Now, the Battle of the Valley of Salem at “Bethulia” (Shechem), on the other hand, changed a heck of a lot. For (Judith 16:25):

 

“As long as Judith lived, and for many years after her death,

no one dared to threaten the people of Israel”.

 

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