Professional Documents
Culture Documents
John J. Collins
General Editor
Becoming
Diaspora Jews
Behind the Story of Elephantine
new haven
and
AY B R L london
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Preface, ix
1. Elephantine Revisited, 1
2. The Aramean Heritage, 21
3. The Aramean Diaspora in Egypt, 42
4. The Origins of the Elephantine Jews, 61
5. A Military Colony and Its Religion, 89
6. Becoming Diaspora Jews, 115
Epilogue, 143
Reading ancient texts is not just a feat of philology. Over the years
it has become for me a way to get closer to people who are far away.
They are dead. They lived in a different world. But as the young girl
said in one of the greatest books of the twentieth century, once they
were alive like you and me. I am referring to the preface of Giorgio
Bassani’s The Garden of the Finzi-Continis. The girl was speaking of
the Etruscans whose graves she had just seen. The Jews who lived
on the Egyptian island of Elephantine in the fifth century BCE are
the near contemporaries of those Etruscans. They are, in a way, as
strange to us as those Etruscans—even though Jews are still among
us and Etruscans are not. But these Jews seem a rare variety. I first
read about them many years ago and wondered who they were.
What was their story? Would they still have something to tell me?
It seemed the kind of curiosity that comes and goes. Mentally you
make a note, then forget about it. But the Elephantine Jews refused
to be forgotten. They seemed to be waiting for me once I had the
chance to return to a scholarly life after years of university adminis-
tration. I wanted to discover their story.
I could never have anticipated spending three years or more de-
ciphering a papyrus in Demotic characters in order to get closer to
the Elephantine Jews. I knew Hebrew and cuneiform. Why should
I want to read Egyptian? But it turned out that the descendants of
the Elephantine Jews had used the Demotic script to write down
some of their ancestral traditions. By good fortune, the language was
Aramaic—perhaps not my favorite, but one I felt at ease with. Pa-
pyrus Amherst 63 proved to be an amazing source on the traditions
of the Aramaic-speaking diaspora communities in Persian Egypt.
To me, the Elephantine Jews had been a phenomenon without a
history. They were something that just happened, without a before
ix
or after. The after is still unclear, but the Amherst papyrus has plenty to say
about the before. It is now possible to tell the story of the Elephantine Jews
instead of looking at snapshots.
Some of us like to think of history as a way to get into the skin of those
who preceded us. I am incapable of such feats. I do believe, however, that we
can get closer and identify patterns of behavior. The latter reflect, at some
distance, what is going on in the collective mind of a community. When I
was younger I thought we should all aim for authenticity. To be your real
self seemed like the highest achievement. As I grow older I find that the
real self is quite elusive. We are part of a pattern even as we cherish the il-
lusion of being unique. The Elephantine Jews conformed to a pattern too.
The pattern I pay attention to in this book is that of an emerging Jewish
identity. As the Aramaic text in Demotic characters shows, the ancestors
of the Elephantine Jews came from Samaria, found shelter in an Aramean
society toward 700 BCE, and moved to Egypt some hundred years later.
These migrants to Egypt did not claim a Jewish identity when they came.
Under the double impact of the diaspora experience and the Persian poli-
tics of ethnic diversity, they became the Elephantine Jews. This merging of
particular historical identities into larger ethnic communities was a pattern
in the Persian Empire. Judaism as the world would come to know it was
still in the making, but the Jewish people had entered the scene.
This book is about the Elephantine Jews rather than the Elephantine
Judeans. Let me explain why. The Aramaic term yĕhûdāy makes no distinc-
tion between “Judean” and “Jew”; it allows of both translations. By dis-
tinguishing between “Judean” and “Jew,” then, we have, in a way, created
our own dilemma. The choice between the two alternatives corresponds, in
what is perhaps the dominant perception, to the difference between ethnic-
ity and religion. It is the difference between les Juifs and les juifs in French
orthography. The Juifs with a capital J are an ethnic community, like les
Français and les Américains. The juifs with a lowercase j, on the other hand,
are a religious group, like les catholiques and les protestants. From the per-
spective of the Jews or the Judeans of the fifth century BCE, this is a false
opposition. They did not really distinguish between ethnicity and religion,
as though the one could be isolated from the other. We, however, have
to make a choice. As a translation, neither “Judean” nor “Jew” is entirely
felicitous. The former emphasizes Judah as place of origin, whereas the lat-
ter seems primarily a reference to religion. After some deliberation, I have
chosen to translate yĕhûdāy consistently as “Jew” or “Jewish.” There are two
reasons. One consideration is the fact that the original nucleus of the Ele-
phantine Jews had its roots in Samaria. To call them Judeans is misleading
inasmuch as they are precisely not from Judah. My other reason has to do
with the meaning of the terms “Jew” and “Jewish.”
To say that there were no Jews before the invention of the Jewish reli-
gion feels to me like a strongly ideological statement. It misrecognizes the
fact that religion is part of culture and subject to constant change. Is the
Judaism of the second century BCE the real Judaism, or should the Juda-
ism of the Talmud be our norm? Or is Jewish religion an invention of the
Western Enlightenment? In my mind, Jewish identity is a mix of ethnicity
and culture. Religion is certainly part of that culture, but you don’t need
to be religious in order to be a Jew. “Jew” and “Jewish” refer to ethnicity
first and to a religious tradition secondarily. It is true that in former times,
religion was so much part of culture that the two were inextricable. Like
everybody around them, the Elephantine Jews had religion—though they
would not call it by that name. To many Jews of a later age, this religion
was perhaps hardly Jewish. The Elephantine Jews worshipped Yaho as their
ancestral god and several Aramean deities besides him. By our standards,
they were polytheists. But that does not make them any less Jewish. Un-
less one subscribes to an essentialist view of what it means to be a Jew, the
religion that Jews have been practicing through the ages has gone through
many transformations. Historically, Jewish identity exhibits great variety.
The Elephantine Jews represent their segment of the spectrum.
Though research feels at times like a lonely journey, it never is. We are al-
ways part of a community of scholars. There are those before us—our teach-
ers and their teachers—and there are those whose time is yet to come—our
students and their students. We are, as they say, standing on the shoulders
of giants. And one day others will take our discoveries and show that there
are ways to go beyond them. We are rooted in a tradition. Such knowledge
is at once a lesson in modesty and a source of pride. In the meantime we
enjoy the company of our contemporaries. This book has benefited from
the input of many colleagues. I could draw up a long list of names of those
who helped me over the past few years. Instead I dedicate this book to the
members of the Biblical Colloquium. They sum up what it means to me to
be part of a scholarly community where people speak without fear, ques-
tion without condescension, and share in a spirit of intellectual passion and
curiosity.
The discovery of the Elephantine Jews occurred more than a hundred years
ago. It caused a sensation. The Aramaic papyri and potsherds that came
to light during the first decade of the twentieth century documented the
existence of a group of Jewish men and women who had lived in the deep
south of Egypt all through the fifth century BCE. Never before had schol-
ars come across such early records of Jewish history. Aside from a few He-
brew inscriptions from Jerusalem and other places, there were no written
remains from the people of the Bible other than the Hebrew Bible itself.
The Elephantine papyri promised direct and unbiased access to a Jewish
community as it had been in real life. Such access was particularly welcome
after a century of critical scholarship that had turned the traditional ways
of reading the Bible upside down. According to the new views, the law of
Moses was a late invention, and the exclusive worship of Yahweh came at
the end of a long period of religious evolution. Elephantine provided the
opportunity to put such theories to the test. Scholars flocked to the new
finds. The sheer number of publications on the papyri between 1905 and
1915 conveys a sense of the excitement that characterized the early days of
Elephantine studies.
A full century has passed since Eduard Sachau’s edition of the Ele-
phantine papyri in 1911. Over the past hundred years, other discoveries
have made the headlines. The Dead Sea scrolls, found in 1947, have had the
greatest impact. Yet despite major new finds from the world of the Bible,
the interest in Elephantine is still very much alive. For a time it seemed that
the definitive monograph had been written when Bezalel Porten published
his Archives from Elephantine (1968). As it turned out, Porten’s study was the
Near East. It took twenty more years before Steiner made his translitera-
tion and translation available in an online edition. A year later, I published
an edition of the text with translation, commentary, and photographs. (My
translation, with slight modifications, appears as the Appendix to the pres-
ent volume.) Another scholar who has long been working on the papyrus,
Tawny L. Holm, will soon publish her transliteration and translation in the
SBL series Writings of the Ancient World. It is only recently, then, that
this long-mysterious papyrus has become available in a manner that allows
others to critically check the suggested readings. A comparison of the three
translations shows differences of interpretation that are sometimes consid-
erable. Since the text is notoriously difficult, this was to be expected. No
doubt further scrutiny by the wider scholarly community will eventually
resolve many of the problems and uncertainties that characterize Papyrus
Amherst 63.
Meanwhile, the Amherst papyrus already warrants some conclusions
that impact our perception of the Elephantine community and its Aramean
neighbors in ancient Aswan (Syene). As will be demonstrated more fully
in Chapter 4, the ancestors of the Elephantine Jews were Samarians rather
than Judeans. Moreover, their connection to the Aramean community pre-
dates their migration to Egypt. During most of the seventh century BCE,
these Samarians had lived at close quarters with two groups of Arameans,
one from Babylonia and the other from Hamath. The three communities—
Samarian, Babylonian, and Syrian—had found shelter in a caravan city at
an oasis in the desert. Its identification with Palmyra is plausible. But what-
ever the precise place where they met, there can be no doubt about the early
connection between the three communities. It explains several features of
the Elephantine Jews that scholars have found puzzling, such as the use of
Aramaic as their colloquial language and the presence of various Aramean
gods in their religion. Clearly, the evidence from the Amherst papyrus ne-
cessitates a thorough revision of the story of Elephantine as it has been told
until now. This book offers such a revision. In order to put the new insights
into a proper historical perspective, we have to begin with a review of the
scholarship on the Elephantine Jews.
the fifth century BCE. The French found hundreds of such ostraca. Some-
how the finds felt like a silver medal. The gold had gone to the Germans.
Two superb publications sum up the first harvest of Elephantine dis-
coveries. In 1911, Sachau published Aramäische Papyrus und Ostraka aus einer
jüdischen Militär-Kolonie zu Elephantine, with photographs of the texts that
are still a wonder to behold. In 1923, Arthur Cowley published Aramaic
Papyri of the Fifth Century B.C. This was, for a long time, the definitive edi-
tion of the Elephantine papyri and continues to be a frequently cited refer-
ence. After Cowley, nothing new came to light at Elephantine for a long
time. In 1929, the French discovered the tablets from Ugarit (today’s Ras
Shamra, on the Syrian coast of the Mediterranean), written in alphabetic
cuneiform signs. The discovery marked the beginning of a new discipline.
Ugaritologists have been able to significantly increase our knowledge of
the Canaanite background of the Hebrew Bible. The stream of new texts
is still flowing. In 1947 the world learned about the discoveries at Qumran,
in the rocky hills west of the Dead Sea. The Dead Sea scrolls turned out
to be the most significant discovery by biblical archaeologists in the twen-
tieth century. The scrolls’ importance for our knowledge of the history of
the Bible and early Judaism still has not been fully explored. The signifi-
cance of the Elephantine papyri paled by comparison. New generations of
scholars focused their attention on Ugarit and Qumran. Elephantine was
yesterday’s news.
In the meantime, the story of the Elephantine papyri had not come to
a close. Hidden away in the vault of a museum or the attic of an old family
home, there were still other papyri waiting to be discovered, like the lost
work of some old master. In the 1890s, ten years before Lady Cecil made
her purchase, Charles Edwin Wilbour had acquired a batch of papyri that
perplexed him. Nobody knew of their existence. Wilbour was an Ameri-
can journalist, lawyer, entrepreneur, and amateur Egyptologist who spent
several winters in Egypt. In 1893 he bought fifteen papyri from peasant
farmers at Elephantine Island. After a few fruitless attempts at decipher-
ing them, he gave up trying. When he died in a Paris hotel in 1896, the
staff found the papyri tucked away among his papers and other belongings.
They were sent to his family in the United States. Nobody paid them any
attention until Wilbour’s daughter bequeathed her father’s collection to the
Brooklyn Museum in 1947. Their importance was quickly established, and
publication followed in 1953.
Written between 498 and 399, the Elephantine papyri span the en-
tire fifth century BCE. It took most of the twentieth century for scholars
to discover, assemble, and publish them. In 1999, Bezalel Porten and Ada
Yardeni published the fourth and final volume of their Textbook of Aramaic
Documents from Ancient Egypt. This masterful edition crowns a century of
Elephantine scholarship. The 2006 publication of the French collections of
Elephantine ostraca by Hélène Lozachmeur closes the era of Elephantine
discoveries. It is true that many scraps of papyrus are still unpublished.
An international team of specialists based in Berlin aims to make all Ele-
phantine texts available in an online database in the context of a research
project on four thousand years of cultural history. Both at the island and
in Aswan, German and Swiss archaeologists are still making new finds.
But the time of the big discoveries is past. Additional evidence might well
turn up in the future, but it is unlikely to change the picture dramatically.
Only the long-mysterious Papyrus Amherst 63, now published, brings a
new perspective to the history of the Elephantine Jews.
but the world owes him a huge debt of gratitude for his epoch-making
monograph on the Elephantine Jews, as well as a superb edition of nearly
all the Aramaic texts from ancient Egypt. To those who make his acquain-
tance in a professional capacity, Porten presents himself as “Mister Ele-
phantine.” More than any other scholar, he deserves the title. His version
of the story of the Elephantine Jews has been hugely successful. The thrust
of his argument is that the Elephantine Jews were truly Jewish by ethnic-
ity and religion. The argument for Jewish ethnicity is most explicit in his
discussion of the designation “Aramean” given to many of the Elephantine
Jews. Porten believes that the ancestors of the community were from Judah
and settled in Egypt toward the end of the seventh century BCE. As a re-
sult, their identification as Arameans cannot apply to their ethnicity; there
were no real Arameans at Elephantine. The Jews were so designated be-
cause of their speech; they belonged to the larger Aramaic-speaking group.
But language is an acquired trait, whereas ethnicity is in the blood. By ius
sanguinis, the Elephantine community was Jewish.
According to the definition of a Jew applied by the State of Israel, Jew-
ish ethnicity and Jewish religion are indissolubly linked. If a Jew converts
to another religion, he stops being a real Jew. Porten agrees. It therefore
matters to demonstrate that the mixed marriages at Elephantine, as well
as the references to the respect paid to other gods, are not grounds for
casting doubt upon the Jewish identity of the community. Non-Jews who
married into the community must have gone through a ceremony in which
the newcomer indicated abandonment of polytheistic practices and adop-
tion of Judaism. The respect paid to other gods was a formality. Greetings
by Bel, Nabu, Shamash, and Nergal were the equivalent of a Christmas
card—a polite nod of recognition that in no way implied an actual belief in
these deities. And the attribution to Aramean deities of a substantial sum
of the returns of the Yaho temple collection in 400 BCE “may have been
no more than a goodwill gesture on the part of the Jews to their Aramean
neighbors.” In religion, the Elephantine Jews were actually perfectly Jew-
ish: “The religious influence of the Arameans was nominal and that of the
Egyptians negligible.” They were devoted to their ancestral deity Yaho, and
Shabbat and Pesach were regular features of their religious life.
The field of Elephantine studies today, half a century after Porten’s Ar-
chives from Elephantine, offers a more diffuse picture. Many scholars criti-
cize what to them seems an apologetic way of handling the evidence. For
the public at large, Porten’s version of the story of the Elephantine Jews still
stands. Critics have found it easier to point out the deficiencies of his ap-
proach than to present a compelling alternative—but not for lack of effort.
In fact, recent years have witnessed a renewed interest in Elephantine. It
has translated into a substantial number of publications with a particular
focus on the religion of the Elephantine Jews. There is a growing consen-
sus among scholars that the Persian period was crucial to the development
of Judaism. Against this background, the evidence from Elephantine takes
on special significance, as it constitutes the most extensive documentation
of a purportedly Jewish community in the diaspora of the time. But this
case leaves us with more questions than certainties: Just how representa-
tive were the Elephantine Jews of the Jewish community at large? Where
did they come from, and what was their history? Who actually were the
Elephantine Jews?
Jews or Judeans?
Following a longstanding practice in Elephantine studies, this chapter
has referred to the “Elephantine Jews” as though the appellation were un-
problematic. It is not. Aside from the fact that the Jews of the island referred
to themselves more often as Arameans than as Jews, the use of the term
“Jew” instead of “Judean” has become quite controversial. In recent scholar-
ship, the debate has focused on the use of the Greek term Ioudaios (plural
Ioudaioi) rather than the Aramaic yĕhûdāy (plural yĕhûdāyin, yĕhûdāyēʾ).
The reason for the focus on the Hellenistic period is related to the fact that
the very term “Judaism” (Ioudaïsmos) makes its first appearance in writing in
the second century BCE. From this linguistic observation, many authors
draw the inference that Judaism as a phenomenon developed only in the
Hellenistic era. If we define a Jew as one who practices Judaism, then the
translation “Jew” for yĕhûdāy in the Elephantine records is an anachronism,
since technically there were no Jews in the fifth century BCE. A survey of
translations of the Aramaic term in more recent Elephantine studies shows
that a majority of scholars now prefer the term “Judean.”
But for the Ioudaioi of the Hellenistic period, the translation “Jews” is
also contested. Steve Mason is the strongest critic. He argues that “there
was no category of ‘Judaism’ in the Graeco-Roman world, no ‘religion’ too,
and . . . the Ioudaioi were understood until late antiquity as an ethnic group
comparable to other ethnic groups, with their distinctive laws, traditions,
customs, and God. They were indeed Judaeans.” Mason does not stand
A Diaspora Story
In 2013, the historian Simon Schama published the first volume of The
Story of the Jews, a companion to his documentary series of the same name.
The first chapter is devoted to Elephantine. It reads like an adaptation
of Porten’s 1968 monograph for a television series—which, in a way, it is.
Schama generously acknowledges his debt to Porten. But he does take the
story one step farther. As he writes in the foreword of his book, “What the
Jews have lived through, and somehow survived to tell the tale, has been
the most intense version known to human history of adversities endured by
other peoples as well. . . . It is what makes this story at once particular and
universal, the shared inheritance of Jews and non-Jews alike, an account of
our common humanity.”
The world did not wait for Schama in order to appropriate aspects of
the Jewish experience. One of the central concepts that Porten highlights
in his story of the Elephantine Jews has come to be applied to others as
well. This is the notion of diaspora. It has lent its name to departments of
diaspora studies, as well as to a journal entirely devoted to the phenom-
enon. The transfer of the term is based on the assumption that there is an
analogy between the Jewish diaspora and the experience of other peoples.
Mirroring the Jewish diaspora, there are Greek, Armenian, Indian, Chi-
nese, African, and many other diasporas. What was once a particular expe-
rience has turned out to be a universal phenomenon.
The debate about the Judean versus the Jewish identity of the Elephan-
tine community might easily lead to a neglect of its non-Jewish elements.
Chapter 6 will return to the Jewish identity of the colony. But the debate
about the correct translation of the term yĕhûdāy should not make us oblivi-
ous to the Aramean background of the Elephantine Jews. They had Jewish
names, and their temple was devoted to the ancestral Jewish god. Yet they
spoke Aramaic, used Aramaic wisdom literature to hone their scribal skills,
venerated several Aramean gods besides Yaho, and referred to themselves
as Arameans. In terms of culture, they seem to have been as much Aramean
as Jewish, if not more. They apparently had a mixed heritage. In order to
reflect this double identity, several scholars call them “Judeo-Arameans.”
It is a curious coinage. Does it refer to language, like the term “Judeo-
Greek”; are we to think of a common religious tradition, on the model of
the construct “Judeo-Christian”; or does it mean something else? Whatever
its precise meaning, the binomial does serve as a reminder of the complex
background of the Elephantine Jews. This chapter explores their Aramean
heritage. They have come to be defined as Jews. Perhaps they were not so
Jewish during an earlier period of their existence.
21
matter is that the Elephantine papyri are in Aramaic and not Hebrew.
There is nothing particularly biblical about Aramaic. It was certainly not
the original language of the Israelites. The oldest text that Lady William
Cecil had acquired turned out to be a contract from 464 BCE. Among the
other papyri offered for sale at the time was one from 471 BCE. The dates
are known because these are legal documents, written by notary scribes who
carefully dated the texts. Did they write in Aramaic because it was the of-
ficial language of the Persian Empire and therefore standard in contracts?
Shortly after Lady Cecil made her purchase, excavations started on Ele-
phantine Island. The French team found hundreds of inscribed potsherds
in the Jewish neighborhood. These ostraca were from the first quarter of the
fifth century BCE. They were older than most of the papyri, and their lan-
guage was Aramaic too. Nearly all the ostraca contained private messages
exchanged between family members and colleagues. If the correspondents
were Judeans, why didn’t they write in Hebrew? Had they completely for-
gotten their ancestral tongue?
If the bulk of the Jewish colony in Elephantine had come from Judah
in the sixth century or before, we should expect them to speak Hebrew.
By the witness of the Lachish letters and the inscriptions from Arad, the
Judeans spoke Hebrew up till the time of the fall of Jerusalem. But the
Elephantine Jews did not. At home, they spoke Aramaic. At some point,
they must have adopted that language as their own. Opinions differ as to
when this linguistic change took place. The dominant view holds that the
Jews turned to Aramaic while in Egypt. That is very unlikely. The Jews only
came into the employ of the Persians after 525 BCE. Before that date, “in
the days of the Egyptian kings,” they would have had no reason to abandon
Hebrew for Aramaic. The Egyptians did not speak Aramaic but Egyptian.
The main reason that Egyptians of Elephantine never occur as witnesses
to the Aramaic contracts of their Jewish neighbors is the fact that most
of them did not speak the language. It seems the only valid explanation,
for until the final decades of the fifth century BCE, the relations between
Jews and Egyptians were generally good. It is telling, too, that the corre-
spondence between the Persian satrap of Egypt and the Elephantine-based
priests of Khnum was in Egyptian. There were Egyptian soldiers in the
Persian forces, but they had their own battalions precisely for reasons of
language. During the time that the colony served Egyptian masters, Ara-
maic would have been of little use. If the Jews adopted Aramaic to better
serve their Persian masters, it must have happened after 525 BCE. Again,
the ostraca are from the first decades of the fifth century. One generation
seems a very short period for a new language to become the private vehicle
of communication. The comparative evidence from other migrant commu-
nities, contemporary and ancient, argues against it. Linguistic assimilation
is normal in interactions with the population of the host country, but the
total extinction of the native language within the community usually takes
generations.
Since the Jews of Elephantine Island spoke Aramaic among them-
selves, they must have been familiar with the language for a considerable
amount of time. This means that Aramaic must have been their daily ve-
hicle of communication well before 525 BCE. If they did not switch to Ara-
maic in the line of duty as soldiers of the Persian Empire, what prompted
them to adopt Aramaic? Was it collaboration with the Aramaic-speaking
communities of Syene? Theoretically this is possible. However, it is hard to
see why they would have chosen to speak Aramaic rather than Egyptian
when they were in the employ of the Egyptians. There is another possibil-
ity, seldom entertained because it seems to contradict the Jewish identity of
the community. What if these Jews spoke Aramaic even before they came
to Egypt? That hypothesis would explain the linguistic practices reflected
in the papyri and the ostraca. On the other hand, if these people had been
speaking Aramaic for generations, they cannot have come directly from
Judah. It is not certain that Samarian origins offer a more plausible expla-
nation for the use of Aramaic. Though the ethnic and linguistic variety in
Samaria after 721 BCE may have favored the turn to Aramaic, there is no
compelling evidence to this effect. For the time being, then, we must limit
ourselves to the conclusion that the colloquial use of Aramaic points to a
period in the early history of the community during which it had been liv-
ing in an Aramaic-speaking environment.
Literature
In the Jewish quarter of Elephantine Island, the German excavators
found two literary texts. One is an Aramaic translation of a Persian royal
inscription. The Persian original was carved in the high rocks of Behis-
tun in Persia. The text is a legitimation account of the Achaemenid dy-
nasty. Owing to the protection of Ahura Mazda, the Persian high god,
King Darius successfully suppressed all insurrections against his rule. The
copy of the Aramaic version must have circulated in the Jewish colony,
as the blank space on the backside of the scroll was used for a record of
memoranda from the Yaho temple. The presence of this piece of political
propaganda reminded the soldiers that they were there to defend the Per-
sian interests in Egypt. The second literary composition is far longer and,
in some ways, more spectacular. It is the earliest copy to date of the Life
and Sayings of Ahiqar. An Aramean sage and scholar who rose to emi-
nence at the Assyrian court, Ahiqar held the office of seal bearer under the
kings Sennacherib and Esarhaddon. Unjustly calumniated by his nephew
and adopted son Nadin, whom he had groomed to be his successor, he
had to go into hiding, but eventually made a triumphant comeback to the
royal court. Attached to this narrative frame is a compilation of Aramaic
proverbs. The composition gained wide popularity in the ancient world.
Scholars knew it already from translations into Armenian, Syriac, Slavonic,
Greek, Arabic, Ethiopian, and Old Turkish before they encountered the
earlier Aramaic version.
The Life and Sayings of Ahiqar provides an intriguing insight into the
cultural background of the Jewish community. It deserves a more detailed
discussion. But prior to an assessment of the significance of this Aramean
composition, one has to take stock of the texts that the excavators had
expected to find but did not. Charles Clermont-Ganneau, the leader of
the French archaeological expedition to Elephantine, had been the most
explicit. He had been hoping to find the earliest copy of the Bible—per-
haps not the whole Bible, but at least those parts that made up the core of
the Jewish religion. A version of the Ten Commandments would have
sufficed, as would a precursor of the doctrine of monotheism that Jews all
over the world know as the Shema: “Hear Israel, the Lord is our God, the
Lord is One.” Nothing of the sort turned up in the excavations. Theoreti-
cally, of course, the Elephantine Jews might have recited those texts. Maybe
they knew them by heart and had no need of a written reminder. But the
presence of several Aramean deities in the temple of Yaho in Elephantine
casts a strange light upon the expected monotheism of these Jews. And if
the Bible was their holy book, how come not a single fragment of it came
to light during the excavations?
We don’t know the exact purpose of the two literary compositions
that the German mission did discover. The most likely explanation is that
they were used for the instruction of apprentice scribes. For Ahiqar, at any
rate, this is the most plausible hypothesis. The notion that one would read
for personal enjoyment and edification is out of tune with the culture of
the time. There was neither a book market nor a book culture. There were
neither public libraries nor a reading public. There were scribes, and there
was scribal education. Wisdom texts had long been the staple diet that
student scribes were exposed to in order to hone their writing skills, to
refine their rhetorical abilities, and to familiarize them with the ethics of
the scribal profession. The encounter with Ahiqar introduced them to a
“skillful scribe” whose unfailing loyalty to his foreign masters had saved him
from disgrace. The figure of Ahiqar was put before them as an example to
emulate; he was a role model. Like them, he had lived in the diaspora. Their
new home was Egypt, then under Persian rule. His new home had been
Assyria. The difference was not all that great. Even abroad, either in Assyria
or Egypt, there was a way to achieve greatness.
A couple of centuries later, the book of Tobit would present Ahiqar
as a man of Israelite extraction. The book of Tobit is a Jewish novella that
never made it into the Protestant Bible but is part of the Catholic version
of the Old Testament because the latter is based on the Greek translation of
the Hebrew Bible (the so-called Septuagint). In technical jargon, the book
of Tobit is deuterocanonical, not part of the real Bible but nevertheless
worthy of special consideration because it can aid believers in their devo-
tion to God. The work is from the early third or second century BCE. It
was not written for the sake of Protestants or Catholics but for the Jewish
community in the diaspora. It tells the tale of Tobit, a man from Samaria,
deported to Assyria, who faithfully observed the precepts of the Jewish
religion. According to this Jewish tale, Ahiqar was Tobit’s nephew (“the
son of my brother”). But in the earliest copy of the story of Ahiqar—the
one found at Elephantine—Ahiqar was not a Jew but an Aramean. He may
actually have been a historical figure and not just a fictional hero. Accord-
ing to a later Babylonian text, Ahiqar had been the second-in-command
of King Esarhaddon. His official name had been Aba-Ninnu-dari, “but
the Arameans called him Ahuqari.” The hero of the Ahiqar story was an
Aramean. Later Jewish tradition transformed him into a Jew, but that fact
merely demonstrates the extent to which the story had become part of Jew-
ish literary culture.
The Life and Sayings of Ahiqar consists of two originally independent
parts. The older one is a collection of proverbs, the younger one the Ahiqar
story. The tale of the famous Aramean scholar came to serve secondarily
as the narrative frame of the proverbs, in much the same way as the West
Asian tradition put all sorts of precepts and admonitions in the mouth of a
legendary sage of the past. The proverbs are from North Syria, and their
original language was a local form of Aramaic. The Ahiqar story is in
than the Aramaic. It means that already in the fifth century BCE, there
were two versions of the Aramaic Ahiqar story and that the scroll from
Elephantine contains one of them and not necessarily the oldest. Also,
the Demotic Ahiqar fragments indicate that there was great fluidity in the
collection of sayings attributed to the Aramean sage. The Egyptian scribes
freely deleted and added sayings, a phenomenon found in proverb collec-
tions from many parts of the early Middle East. It corroborates the impres-
sion of a rather loose link between the Ahiqar tale and the sayings.
The fact that a work from the Aramean diaspora in Assyria should be
the main literary text discovered in the Jewish quarter of Elephantine is food
for thought. By what channels did this composition get there? The copy was
prepared in Egypt, but the mother text must have been brought by Arame-
ans. André Lemaire has argued that the scribal training at Elephantine
was not Jewish but followed the official curriculum of the Aramaic schools
in Egypt under Persian supervision. This is possible but speculative. The
two orthographies of the name “Yaho” (yhw and yhh) reflect the existence
of different scribal traditions within the Jewish colony. This suggests that
scribal training followed the model of the master-trainee type of education
rather than that of the school. If Ahiqar was not part of the standard cur-
riculum, its more occasional use in scribal training at Elephantine might
also be interpreted as an indication that the literary culture of the Jewish
community there was more Aramean than Jewish. There is no evidence to
show that they borrowed the text from their Aramean colleagues at Syene.
For all we know, they might have considered Ahiqar as part of their own
tradition. The later transformation of Ahiqar into a Jew—from Samaria!—
suggests that the Elephantine Jews never thought of him as someone be-
longing to a different ethnic group than their own. In a way, the identity
change that Ahiqar experienced in the book of Tobit is a literary reflection
of the changing identity of the Elephantine community. When they came
to Egypt, they were so much like Arameans that they might be taken for
Arameans. In the course of their stay at Elephantine, they became Jews.
Religion at Elephantine
Another significant part of the Aramean heritage of the Elephantine
Jews was their religion. As in several other areas, they displayed a double
identity in their religious practice. By the reference to their place of wor-
ship as “the temple of Yaho,” the settlers at Elephantine put themselves
squarely in the Jewish tradition, since Yaho was the god of the Jews. The
The papyri, however, open a different window onto the religious prac-
tices of the Jews. Their most striking revelation concerns the religion that
was practiced in the temple. The first Jewish temple at Elephantine was de-
stroyed during an Egyptian insurrection in 410 BCE. It took the Jews almost
a decade to build a new one. In 400, there was a collection to raise money
for new furniture. Each family unit paid 2 shekels. The final compilation of
lists with names of contributors makes the addition. In all, 318 shekels are
to be divided between Yaho (126 shekels), Eshem-Bethel (70 shekels), and
Anat-Bethel (120 shekels—2 shekels have gone missing). In the present
connection this administrative document is important for its candid admis-
sion of the fact that there were three gods in the temple—although “ad-
mission” is the wrong word because the Jews had nothing to hide. Yaho, it
would seem, needs no further introduction. His companion gods are more
enigmatic. “Eshem-Bethel” and “Anat-Bethel” are both compound names
related to the god Bethel. In two Neo-Assyrian treaty texts from the first
half of the seventh century BCE, Anat-Bethel occurs as Bethel’s consort.
The treaties show that Bethel and Anat-Bethel were Syrian deities that had
been incorporated into the Assyrian pantheon. Other evidence, too, points
to Syria as the place where the worship of Bethel originated. A debt record
from Sefire, a town close to Aleppo, is full of personal names containing
a reference to the god Bethel. Zeus Betylos (“the God Bethel”) is “the
ancestral god of those that dwell along the Orontes,” as a later inscription
from Dura-Europos has it. The connection of Eshem with Bethel also
goes back to this area, in view of the occurrence of the god Symbetylos in
an inscription from northern Syria. “Symbetylos” is the Greek transcription
of Eshem-Bethel.
Yaho is the god of the Jews. But at Elephantine, the god found him-
self in the company of two deities from the Bethel circle. Those gods are
Aramean. It is very unlikely they were an innovation introduced in the
final decade of the century. Since the new temple had to be a copy of the
previous one, it would hardly have been on the community’s mind to build
chapels for new gods. If the two Bethel gods were in the second temple,
they must have been present in the first one as well. Two other documents
from the late fifth century add yet another dimension to the religious plu-
ralism of the community. They are records of oath, one by Herem-Bethel
and the other by Herem the god and Anat-Yaho. There is no need to
elaborate upon the precise identity of these gods in order to establish their
Aramean background. Herem-Bethel is another god whose compound
name links him with Bethel. And Anat-Yaho seems to be the twin sister or
alter ego of Anat-Bethel. For the time being, these gods are a mystery. They
are names whose meaning will have to be elucidated on the basis of other
evidence. But their Aramean connection seems certain. The Jewish ven-
eration of Bethel, Eshem, and Herem is reflected in some of the personal
names from the papyri. A marriage contract from the last third of the fifth
century has one Herem-natan son of Bethel-natan, as well as Bethel-natan
son of Yeho-natan, among the witnesses. Jewish marriage contracts from
Elephantine consistently employ Jewish witnesses only. The fact that one
Bethel-natan is the son of Yeho-natan confirms the former’s Jewish iden-
tity. Presumably, then, Herem-natan son of Bethel-natan was Jewish too.
Some of the other personal names containing the divine names “Bethel,”
“Eshem,” and “Herem” were also Jewish.
Across from Elephantine, on the east bank of the Nile, there was an
important military colony of Syrians. They had a temple for Bethel and
the Queen of Heaven. One would have expected to find Anat-Bethel and
Eshem-Bethel on their side of the river. As it turns out, however, these Syr-
ian gods had found a home among the Jews. It is further proof of the de-
gree to which the cultural heritage of these Jews was Aramean, even more
than the worship of the compound Bethel deities lets on. The more or less
contemporaneous references to Anat-Yaho (402 BCE) and Anat-Bethel
(400 BCE), plus the absence of any mention of the god Bethel himself,
convey the suggestion that Yaho was actually identified with Bethel. Per-
haps that should not come as a complete surprise. A later passage in the
book of Jeremiah denounces the worship of Bethel as one of the deviations
of Israel ( Jer 48:13). Elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible, too, there are allusions
to this Syrian God. “Bethel” occurs with some regularity in Israelite per-
sonal names too. The evidence from Elephantine, at any rate, shows that
the Jewish community worshipped several Aramean gods related to the god
Bethel on the tacit assumption that “Bethel” and “Yaho” were names for the
same deity. The Elephantine Jews were polytheists and Aramean in their
religious outlook. Ultimately, the combined witness of language, literature,
and religion calls into question the ethnic identity of the Elephantine Jews.
Ethnicity at Elephantine
The Elephantine Papyri contain one particularly promising lead that
can be used to establish the ethnic identity of the community. Records
of sale, loan, litigation, or donation must always identify the parties in-
volved. To make sure there was no room for misunderstanding, the scribes
laid down the particulars of their clients in writing: name, father’s name,
ethnicity, place of residence, and army unit. For example, “Mahseyah son
of Yedanyah, Jew who is in the fortress of Elephantine, belonging to the
battalion of Varyazata.” Scribes might leave out one or another element
from the list, but they normally would not skip ethnicity. Since we possess
a significant number of contracts from the Jewish community of the island,
there would seem to be sufficient data to establish their ethnicity. As it
turns out, however, there is a strange discrepancy in the evidence. Where we
would expect to encounter unambiguous ethnic identity, we find conflicting
indications. There are several cases where one and the same person is iden-
tified one time as a Jew and the next as an Aramean, or first as an Aramean
and next as a Jew, as though the two designations were synonymous. But
that is a possibility that cannot be seriously entertained. Unless words are
meaningless, a Jew is not an Aramean. If one and the same man is both a
Jew and an Aramean, then there must be another explanation.
Prior to a search for explanations, the evidence needs to be laid out. The
contracts document five cases in which particular individuals are identified
now as Jews and now as Arameans. In none of these cases is there evidence
of a change in circumstance that might entail a change in identity. The texts
document double identity, not identity change. A sixth case of double iden-
tity emerges from a comparison between a contract defining someone as
Aramean and a letter in which the same man is referred to as a Jew. Because
the devil is in the details, the following survey of the documented cases
of double identity cites all the attested identity statements concerning the
person in question.
The first case of double identity is that of Mahseyah. Born toward the
end of the sixth century BCE, Mahseyah was still alive in 416, when he
acted as witness to a transaction between two of his grandsons. He be-
longed to the powerful family of Yedanyah son of Mahseyah, successive
generations of which served in the leadership of the Jewish community.
Mahseyah, also known as Mahsah, was identified as an Aramean in 471, as
a Jew in 464, and as an Aramean again in 449.
Mahseyah son of Yedanyah,
Aramean of Syene,
belonging to the battalion of Varyazata.
The first two texts that mention Mahseyah also refer to Qonyah. A
neighbor of Mahseyah, Qonyah is identified as an Aramean in 471, and as
a Jew seven years later:
Qonyah son of Zadaq,
Aramean of Syene,
belonging to the battalion of Varyazata.
Qonyah son of Zadaq,
Jew,
belonging to the battalion of Atropharna.
Arameans of Syene,
belonging to the battalion of Varyazata.
The sixth instance of a double identity differs from the ones previously
cited because this man is mentioned in one contract only:
of Elephantine the fortress” might seem to invalidate this theory but could
arguably combine military-administrative identity with a reference to the
place of residence. In fact, the written evidence on the members of the
Jewish community provides no decisive argument against the military-
administrative theory. In order to test its plausibility, we must look at a
counterexample. The case of the Iranian community of Elephantine offers
a promising parallel.
Elsewhere in the Elephantine papyri and potsherds there are other occur-
rences of Caspians and Horesmians. They lived in close proximity to the
Jews and would frequently serve as witnesses to their contracts. However,
there is no other identification formula aside from the seven quoted above.
They suffice to make some observations about the similarities and the con-
trasts between the Iranian and the Jewish identity.
In terms of similarities, there is the general structure of the identifica-
tion tags of the Iranians in the legal documents. They, too, are normally
identified by name, name of the father, ethnicity, place of residence, and
military detachment. As in the case of the Jews, both men and women have
a place in the military organization, women normally through the battalion
of their husband or their father. One striking detail is the double address of
Lady Ubil, daughter of Shatibara. Her husband and she are once qualified
as “Caspians of Elephantine the fortress.” Individually, however, Ubil was
also “a Caspian woman of Syene.” Does this mean Ubil had houses in
both Elephantine and Syene? Hardy so. The most likely explanation would
take “of Syene” as an administrative identity, in the sense that Ubil fell
under the purview of the Syenian garrison. Assuming her case is paradig-
matic for the Iranian group as a whole, their situation is similar to that of
the Jews. The Jews, too, though living in Elephantine, could be said to be
“Syenians” or “of Syene.”
Which brings us immediately to a significant contrast: Iranians are
never identified as Arameans. The scribes do sometimes hesitate about their
exact ethnicity. Was Dargamana a Horesmian (so according to one scribe)
or a Caspian (so according to another)? But Iranians do not have a double
ethnicity as the Jews do. Nowhere in the texts are they referred to as Ara-
means, even though they served in the Syenian garrison and were familiar
with Aramaic, as is clear from their role as witnesses to contracts written in
Aramaic. Another element that seems particular to the Caspian identity is
the phrase “stationed in Elephantine the fortress.” Porten speculates that
this expression indicates “a semipermanent status,” as opposed to those who
were “holding property” in Elephantine. While the phrase is indeed unat-
tested in connection with the Jews, it should not be overinterpreted. Some
of the Iranian men “stationed” in Elephantine did engage in real estate
transactions, which implies that they did hold property. In fact, the term
“holding property” also occurs in connection with a Caspian.
The Persians recognized the distinct ethnicity of the Iranian commu-
nity at Elephantine by the creation of a separate battalion. Battalions were
Cyprus, Samaria, and Judah. The list of subject nations, written in Egyp-
tian hieroglyphs on the base of the statue of Darius I in Susa, does not men-
tion Phoenicia, Samaria, Judah, or Cyprus. They are simply included in the
general category of “Syria” (Eshur). Assuming the terms “Aramean” in the
papyri and “Syrian” in Greek and Persian sources refer to the same ethnicity,
the Jews were Arameans in terms of territory. According to this reading of
the evidence, the Jews were technically Arameans but, in reality, Judeans.
Considering their language, literature, and religion, however, it is
doubtful whether the Elephantine Jews were Arameans in a merely tech-
nical sense. In view of their personal names, the Jews were not Arameans
by birth but by adoption. Their culture betrays longtime exposure to an
Aramean environment. It is difficult to believe that this happened only in
Egypt. At some point in its earlier history, the Elephantine community
must have gone through a period of intense interaction with Arameans,
to the point where they came to identify themselves as Arameans. Neither
the papyri nor the ostraca tell us when and where this happened. What the
Aramaic documents from Egypt do reveal, however, is the presence of a
significant Aramean diaspora. Chapter 3 looks at the Aramean community
in Persian Egypt in an attempt to find a clue to the Aramean connection
of the Elephantine Jews.
Across from Elephantine Island, on the east bank of the Nile, lies the city of
Aswan. The Greeks called it Syene, which was the name customarily used in
antiquity when referencing the town. Herodotus does not mention Syene.
To him, “Elephantine” stood for both the island and the town on the main-
land because he considered them as one conglomeration. Elephantine and
Syene have been called twin cities. The phrase is perhaps not entirely felici-
tous, as Syene had long been much larger than Elephantine, but the close
connection between the two goes back to a very early period. Syene and
Elephantine constituted the southern border of Egypt. They were garrison
towns manned by frontier soldiers serving, in the fifth century BCE, in the
Persian army. Though Herodotus speaks of Elephantine only, Syene was
the main location. The Persian garrison commander had his headquarters
in Syene. Other officials, such as Persian judges, also had their offices in the
city. And, naturally, the main body of the garrison was stationed at Syene.
The Jews lived on Elephantine Island. Most of the soldiers at Syene
were Arameans. Since the Elephantine Jews referred to themselves as Ara-
means too, there is reason to take a closer look at the Arameans of ancient
Aswan. By the witness of their literary and religious culture, the Jews had a
strong Aramean connection. The Arameans of Syene were their neighbors
on the mainland and their colleagues in the garrison. These Arameans may
provide help figuring out the Aramean connection of the Jews. This chap-
ter will focus on their origins and their relations with the Jews. Prior to a
discussion of the Aramean community of Syene, however, it is necessary to
consider the identity of the Arameans more generally. Though their lan-
guage ended up being spoken all over the Middle East—Jesus spoke Ara-
42
guished from one another by the addition of a tribal name or the name of a
city. Where the name “Aram” occurs without reference to political divisions,
it refers to the whole of north-western Syria, an area stretching from the
upper course of the Euphrates in the north to the foot of Mount Lebanon
in the south. Geographically, it consisted of Upper and Lower Aram, the
two parts constituting “all of Aram.” It ran from the border of Phoenicia
in the west to Palmyra (then Tadmor) in the east. This is the area referred
to in cuneiform sources as Ebir-Nari, “Beyond-the-River,” the river being
the Euphrates. In the administrative terminology of the Persian Empire,
this area was known as Syria, a term that came to include Palestine as well.
When the Greeks of the time, such as Herodotus, spoke of “Syria,” they
followed the Persian terminology.
Though Aramean was and remained a term of ethnicity, then, it could
also refer to inhabitants of the territory known as Aram, that is Syria-
Palestine. In that sense, even inhabitants of Judah might be referred to as
“Syrians.” Herodotus calls them “the Syrians of Palestine.” In the Aramaic
vernacular, they were “Arameans.” It was, one might argue, a purely ad-
ministrative identity. As the previous chapter has demonstrated, however,
the Elephantine Jews were Arameans in more than a purely administrative
sense. Much of their literary and religious culture was Aramean too. This
raises the issue of the nature of their relation to the other Arameans who
dwelt in Egypt, especially their neighbors who lived in Syene.
Bethel and Herem are likely to belong to the same constellation. Working
along these lines, we must try to identify the gods of the Bethel group and
the gods of the Nabu group separately. Due to intermarriage and other
forms of cohabitation, there may be some overlap. On the whole, however,
we should expect to find a clear boundary between the two components of
the Aramean community in Egypt.
The nucleus of the personal names current in the Bethel group are
those in which “Bethel” serves as the central element. The names read like
short statements of belief or hope. Among the Arameans of Syene, the fol-
lowing Bethel names are attested:
Bethel-[ . . . ]
Bethel-ʿaqab (“Bethel-has-protected”)
Bethel-dalah (“Bethel-has-rescued”; reading uncertain)
Bethel-nadar (“Bethel-has-guarded”)
Bethel-natan (“Bethel-has-given”)
Bethel-nuri (“Bethel-is-my-light”)
Bethel-reʿi (“Bethel-is-my-shepherd”)
Bethel-shezib (“Bethel-deliver!”)
Bethel-taden (“Bethel-you-will-judge”)
Bethel-taqum (“Bethel-you-will-arise”)
Bethel-zabad (“Bethel-has-given”)
Bethel names also occur outside Syene, among the Arameans stationed at
Memphis and other places in Egypt:
Bethel-[xx] (Abydos)
Bethel-[ . . . ] (Memphis)
Bethel-nuri (“Bethel-is-my-light”; Memphis)
Bethel-śagab (“Bethel-has-protected”; Memphis)
Bethel-sharah (“Bethel-has-released”; Memphis)
Bethel-shezib (“Bethel-deliver!”; Memphis)
Bethel-shezib (“Bethel-deliver!”; Thebes)
Bethel-taqum (“Bethel-you-will-arise”; Memphis)
Bethel-zabad (“Bethel-has-given”; Memphis)
Linked to the circle of Bethel are the gods Herem and Eshem and the
goddess Anat. Herem and Eshem can be connected to Bethel on account
of certain patterns in family names. The occurrence of “Herem-natan son
of Bethel-natan” may be taken as an indication of a family’s veneration for
and Eshem are part of one constellation, the local origins of Eshem are
a clue to the origins of the worship of Bethel. According to the Hebrew
Bible, Eshem was the god venerated by the deported population of Ha-
math (2 Kgs 17:30). The name occurs in the Bible as “Ashima,” which Aimé-
Giron took to be the female counterpart of Eshem. Since Eshem was the
god of the population of Hamath, the Bethel Syrians must have come from
Hamath. Aimé-Giron’s straightforward logic has since been corroborated
by the occurrence of a reference to Bethel (Zeus Betylos) as “the ancestral
god of those that dwell along the Orontes.” The connection of Eshem
with Bethel was also familiar to Syria in view of the occurrence of the god
Symbetylos (Eshem-Bethel) in an inscription from Kafr Nebo in Syria.
The absence of the “Queen of Heaven” from the personal names is easily
explained by the fact that it is a title of Anat. The goddess, who occurs only
once in the personal names, was known as Anat-Bethel on account of her
role as Bethel’s consort. The pair occurs twice in Neo-Assyrian treaties. A
link with the territory of Hamath may be found in the occurrence of the
name Abdi-Anati, carried by one of the kings of Siyannu, a city-state later
incorporated in the kingdom of Hamath.
Nabu-zer-ibni (“Nabu-has-created-offspring”)
Iddin-Nabu (“Nabu-has-given”)
Mushezib-Nabu (“Nabu-saves”)
Outside Syene, there are a significant number of Nabu names attested
at Memphis. Their occurrence should be no cause for surprise since we
know that the Aramean community at Memphis had a temple for Nabu
in the city. The presence of both a Bethel group and a Nabu group at
Memphis is an indication of the fact that the Aramean diaspora in Egypt,
spread over the country, originated from a limited number of geographical
horizons:
Nabu-ah.a-bullit. (“Nabu-keep-the-brother-alive!”; Memphis)
Nabu-ʿaqab (“Nabu-has-protected”; Memphis)
Nabu-dalah (“Nabu-has-rescued”; Memphis)
Nabu-yahab (“Nabu-has-given”; provenance unknown)
Nabu-natan (“Nabu-has-given”; Wadi Hammamat, between Thebes
and the Red Sea)
Nabu-s.adaq (“Nabu-is-righteous”; Memphis)
Nabu-sharah (“Nabu-has-released”; Memphis)
Nabu-shezib (“Nabu-deliver!”; Memphis)
ʿAl-Nabu (“Nabu-has-entered”; Memphis)
Mannu-ki-Nabu (“Who-is-like-Nabu?”; Memphis [Abusir])
An analysis of the Nabu names finds one specific point on which they
distinguish themselves from the Bethel names. All the Bethel names are
in pure Aramaic. Among the Nabu names, on the other hand, the majority
consist of outright Babylonian names: Nabu-ah.a-bullit. , Nabu-kas.ir, Nabu-
kudurri, Nabu-ushallim, Nabu-sum-iskun, Nabu-tukulti, Nabu-zer-ibni,
Iddin-Nabu, and Mannu-ki-Nabu. On the other hand, some of the Nabu
names are Aramaic: Nabu-ʿaqab, Nabu-barak, Nabu-yahab, Nabu-natan,
and Nabu-s.adaq. Nabu is a Babylonian god. His presence in purely Baby-
lonian personal names suggests Babylonian origins for the people carrying
them. The presence of Aramaic Nabu names, however, implies an Aramean
background.
At Syene, there was a close connection between the “house of Nabu” and
the “house of Banit,” the two “houses” most likely being shrines within the
same temple compound. Like the “Queen of Heaven,” “Banit” is originally
not a personal name but a title. It is the Babylonian word for “beautiful” and
Nergal-ushezib (“Nergal-has-rescued”)
Nur-Shawash, (“Light-of-Shamash”)
Shamash-nuri (“Shamash-is-my-light”)
Ahatsunu (“Their-sister”)
Ahuni (“Our-brother”)
Ahushunu (“Their-brother”)
Ahutab (“The-brother-is-good”)
Mannuki (“Who-is-like?”; short for “Who is like god DN?”)
The people who carried these names had their origins in a place that
was permeated by the linguistic and religious culture of the Babylonians.
In 1931, Aimé-Giron concluded that the Bethel Arameans originated from
the territory of Hamath in central Syria. As for the Nabu component of the
community, he felt less confident. In view of the extension and persistence
of the veneration of Nabu in North Syria, however, Aimé-Giron surmised
that a good deal of the Nabu Arameans came from the region of Aleppo or
Edessa. But the mix of Babylonian and Aramean elements is typical not
only for the border zones of the Babylonian Empire but also for the very
heartland of Babylonia, where there had long been an Aramean commu-
nity. Like so many other people in antiquity and today, they had a double
identity. The reference to “Hadad-nuri, the Babylonian” in one of the Ele-
phantine papyri suggest that the Nabu group had its roots in Babylonia.
The analysis of the personal names of the Arameans at Syene, com-
pleted and corroborated by the inventory of Aramean names attested
elsewhere in Persian Egypt, shows that the community consisted of two
components. There was a Bethel group and a Nabu group. Each group had
its own temple compound. The one group had the temple of Bethel and
the Queen of Heaven; the other, the temple of Nabu and Banit. In view
of the particular constellation of gods from the Bethel group, the Bethel
Arameans hailed from central Syria. Their place of origin can be more nar-
rowly defined as the former kingdom of Hamath on the Orontes River.
They are the Syrian Arameans. The Nabu Arameans were not Syrians. They
were devoted to Babylonian gods—most prominently Nabu and Nanay, the
goddess being worshipped under her title “Banit” (beautiful)—and many
carried Babylonian names. Yet the presence in their personal names of Ara-
maic features, as well as the occasional occurrence of Aramean gods, is evi-
dence of Aramean origins. These are the Babylonian Arameans.
never married. In 416, however, the main priest of the temple, one Uriyah
son of Mahseyah, adopted her son Yedanyah, after which the boy became
Yedanyah son of Uriyah. Once again, one wonders about the biological
connection. Judging by the number of references to Egyptian servants—in
fact a euphemism for slaves, for these people were branded with a property
mark like chattel—there may have been as many Egyptians in the Jewish
community through wedlock as through slavery. This paradox points to
the strong socioeconomic position of the Elephantine Jews. They may have
come as refugees but had risen to affluence and influence.
As far as we can tell from the available evidence, there were no Jew-
ish families with Aramean slaves. Would it have been something utterly
unthinkable? Perhaps. The asymmetric relationship between master and
servant would have been at odds with the overall equality between Ara-
means and Jews as brothers in arms and fellow Arameans. In addition,
there was one capacity in which Arameans occurred with some frequency
and Egyptians never. On occasion, Arameans acted as witnesses to Jewish
contracts, especially those drawn up in Syene. Egyptians never did. Was
this because their witness was void by law, like the witness of a woman? Or
was it simply because they did not understand Aramaic?
Although Jewish-Aramean intermarriage was infrequent, business
contacts were rare, and the Arameans lived in their own neighborhoods on
the other side of the river, there was one area in which the interaction was
intense. This was the army. Both the Elephantine Jews and the Arameans
of Syene served in the “Syenian garrison.” This term occurs in a 400 BCE
record of disbursements of grain to members of the garrison. In his discus-
sion of this text, Bezalel Porten implies that the Syenian garrison did not
include Jews: “The term ‘Syenian garrison’ probably indicates a preponder-
ance of non-Jews in Syene. Of eighteen wholly or partially legible names
in a ration record . . . of the Syenian garrison . . . , none can with certainty
be considered Jewish.” From Porten’s later edition of this text, however, it
is clear that the Syenian garrison did have Jewish members. One line men-
tions Haggai son of Shemayah, the well-known Jewish scribe, as a recipient
of one measure of barley. Other Jews may have been on the list (note the
reference to “[PN son of ] Natan”), but damage to the papyrus precludes
their identification. Owing to their connection to the Syenian garrison,
five prominent men of the Jewish community could refer to themselves as
“Syenians holding property in Elephantine the fortress.” This expression
shows that “Syenian” does not automatically imply residence at Syene. The
same reasoning may be applied to the far more frequent references to Jews
as Arameans “of Syene.” While Aramean was their default ethnic identity,
the Syenian connection was military-administrative. The Jews of Elephan-
tine could call themselves “Syenians” because they belonged to “the Syenian
garrison.”
The men serving in the garrison were divided into battalions and cen-
turies (groups of hundred). Attachment to a particular battalion or century
was based on language and ethnicity. The Egyptian soldiers had their own
battalions. The Iranians from Elephantine Island—mostly Horesmians
and Caspians—belonged to a separate battalion as well. In view of the bat-
talion commanders mentioned—Artabanu, Namasava, and Marya—there
was no overlap between the Iranian battalion and the battalion that the
Jews were attached to. The Jews served in an Aramaic-language battal-
ion, called the Varyazata battalion after its founder or first commander.
Among the successors of Varyazata, there were at least two Arameans, one
called Iddin-Nabu, the other Nabu-kudurri. It was a mixed battalion con-
sisting of both Jews from Elephantine and Arameans from Syene. The
centuries into which the Varyazata battalion was subdivided were under the
command of Arameans. We encounter references to Bethel-taqum, Nabu-
shalew, Nabu-shezib, Nabu-ʿaqab, and Sin-iddin, all Syrian and Babylo-
nian Arameans who served as leaders of centuries that were made up, at
least in part, of Jewish soldiers. Interestingly, there is not a single case of a
Jew in the position of head of a battalion or century. On occasion, Jews did
rise to influential positions within the Persian administration in Egypt, but
in the military they had to accept Arameans as their superiors.
Though separated by the river, the Arameans of Syene and the Jews of
Elephantine rubbed shoulders in the line of duty. They had a close collabo-
ration in the army. Not only did they belong to the same Syenian garrison;
they were also attached to the same battalions. Moreover, the centuries that
the Jews had been assigned to were under the command of Syrian and
Babylonian Arameans. Does this mean the Persian army was the melting
pot that transformed the traditional heritage of the Elephantine Jews into
a mishmash of Aramean and Jewish deities? This is hard to believe.
Conclusion
In the deep south of Egypt, there were three Aramean communities:
the Jews, the Syrians, and the Babylonians. They lived in close proximity to
one another and served in the same garrison. By the evidence of their lan-
guage, their official ethnic identity, and their literary and religious culture,
the Jews were as much Aramean as Jewish. What made them Jewish were
their names and their veneration of Yaho. But otherwise they come across
as a subgroup of the Aramean community in Egypt. The most frequent
explanation adduced for their Aramean culture is syncretism: due to the
long years of living together with the Aramean community at Syene, the
Jews would have adopted their language, their literature, and some of their
gods. A closer look at the social interaction of the Elephantine Jews does
not offer much support for this hypothesis. In their day-to-day existence,
contact with the Egyptians of the island seems to have been more frequent
than their contact with the Arameans. Most of the Jews did not adopt the
religious aspect of Egyptian culture, though. Why should they have con-
formed to Aramean practices if their contacts with the Arameans were less
substantial? Did their experience in the army, where Arameans were their
closest brothers-in-arms, have an impact beyond that of their daily com-
merce with the Egyptians? In the absence of positive evidence to this effect,
this speculative explanation lacks plausibility.
Nonetheless, the Aramean culture of the Elephantine Jews does sug-
gest that they were connected, in one way or another, to the Aramean sol-
diers in Syene. One of the two groups that constituted the Aramean colony
of Syene had its roots in Hamath. This is the Bethel group. In view of the
veneration of several gods from Bethel’s orbit in the Elephantine commu-
nity, the Jews were especially close to this group. Assuming that “Anat-
Bethel” and “Anat-Yaho” are two names for the same divine persona, the
Jews identified their own god with Bethel. By the witness of Jeremiah 44,
they worshipped the Queen of Heaven—Bethel’s consort in the Aramean
temple at Syene. The Elephantine papyri also mention Eshem-Bethel and
Herem-Bethel (also known as Herem), two other gods whose occurrence in
personal names (in the forms “Eshem” and “Herem”) bears witness to their
veneration by the Syrian Arameans. If the Jews did not adopt these gods in
Egypt, they must have done so at an earlier stage. On closer analysis, then,
the religion of the Elephantine Jews points in the same direction as their
use of Aramaic as their daily language. Even before they came to Egypt, the
ancestors of these men and women must have lived in a milieu permeated
by Aramean culture. And in view of the religion at Elephantine, that culture
must have borne the marks of the Aramean culture from central Syria.
For the time being, the hypothesis of Aramean influence upon the ante-
cedents of the Elephantine Jews is just that: a working hypothesis designed
to make sense of the available evidence and to orient further research. It is
a conjecture in need of corroboration. Until recently, scholars were inclined
to search for such corroboration by focusing on two spots on the map of
the Middle East: one in North Israel in the territory of what once was the
Assyrian province of Samaria, the other in the former kingdom of Hamath
on the middle Orontes. Hamath (modern Hama) had seemed the natural
place to start, since it was a center of worship of the gods Bethel and Anat-
Bethel. Invoking the evidence of several Yahu names of some of the kings
of northern and central Syria (notably Azri-Yaʾu and Yaʾu-bidi), several
scholars have argued there were Yahweh worshippers in Hamath. Con-
ceivably, the Elephantine Jews were the descendants of these people. Alter-
natively, the exposure to Aramean religious practices may have occurred in
Samaria after the Assyrians had turned it into a province of their empire.
According to 2 Kgs 17:24–41, the Assyrians settled several new population
groups in Samaria, Arameans from Hamath being one of them. Under
their influence, the Israelites of Samaria could have picked up the worship
of Eshem (“Ashima,” in the reading of 2 Kgs 17:30) and other gods from
Bethel’s orbit (cf. Jer 48:13).
If not for the decipherment of what has long been a mysterious papy-
rus, the Israel-Hamath connections adumbrated above would have been
the main avenues of investigation for any attempt to elucidate the histori-
cal background of the Elephantine Jews. The recent publication of Papyrus
Amherst 63 opens up a new vista. Now that the complete text has become
available in transliteration and translation, it is possible to explore the his-
tory of the Aramaic-speaking communities at Elephantine and Syene on
the basis of literary texts from their own tradition. Chapter 4 offers an as-
sessment of the contribution of the Amherst papyrus to our understanding
of the Elephantine Jews’ origins.
Since the early days of Elephantine studies, the origins of the Jewish colony
have been shrouded in mystery. There are two sides to the puzzle: When
did the migrants settle in Egypt, and where exactly did they come from?
On both scores, a consensus has yet to be reached. Most scholars date the
beginnings of the Jewish diaspora in Egypt to between the mid-seventh
and mid-sixth centuries BCE. Suggested dates before or after this period
have failed to rally any substantial support. Though none of the papyri
and ostraca predate the fifth century BCE, the Jewish community must
have been present before then. As noted in Chapter 1, a historical reference
in the petition to Bagohi, the governor of Judah, implies that the Jews al-
ready had a temple when King Cambyses II came to Egypt in 525 BCE. It
would seem that the archaeological record supports the claim. Yet neither
the written nor the archaeological evidence from Elephantine allows any
greater precision in determining the beginnings of the settlement. A similar
situation obtains with respect to the geographic origins of the community.
If there is a majority view, it favors Judah as the homeland. The principal
arguments adduced in support are the use of the ethnic label yĕhûdāy (in-
terpreted as “Judean”) and the biblical reference to a migration to Egypt
after the fall of Jerusalem. On the other hand, there have also been scholars
who argue for the Samarian origin of the migrants. They base their convic-
tion on the polytheistic practices of the Elephantine community, notably its
veneration of Eshem-Bethel, Anat-Bethel, and Herem-Bethel.
The nature of the written records from Elephantine is an important
cause of the continuing uncertainty about the origins of the Jewish commu-
nity. In his masterful introduction to ancient Mesopotamian civilizations,
61
A. Leo Oppenheim divides the cuneiform documents into those that be-
longed to the “stream of tradition” and those that record day-to-day ac-
tivities. If this dichotomy is used for the classification of the Elephantine
documents, nearly all of them are records of day-to-day activities. They
constitute an incredibly rich source of information but one that leaves the
community’s origins in the dark. Normally, works from the stream of tradi-
tion are more forthcoming with information about the background of the
textual community. As it turns out, the two literary works discovered at
Elephantine—the Life and Sayings of Ahiqar and the Aramaic transla-
tion of the Behistun inscription—are not Jewish. Ahiqar is an Aramean
composition, and the Behistun inscription is Persian propaganda. To the
chagrin of the first explorers of Elephantine Island, they found nothing in
the way of Jewish literature. All of the written evidence from Elephantine
deals with the daily life of the community. In the absence of any historical
text, determining the origins of the Elephantine Jews has mostly been a
matter of guesswork.
The discovery of Papyrus Amherst 63 has totally changed the situa-
tion. Transcribed in Demotic characters, all of the Aramaic texts collected
in the papyrus belong to the stream of tradition. Though both the findspot
and the date of the papyrus are unclear, there can be no doubt that the
literary texts it contains go back to the Aramaic-speaking diaspora com-
munities in Egypt. Based on the form of the script, the papyrus is generally
surmised to have been written in the mid-fourth century BCE. The earli-
est reports said it was found, together with other Egyptian papyri, in a jar
in Thebes. Subsequent research has not confirmed this provenance. One
researcher has argued, with reference to the particular orthography of a
Demotic sign, that the papyrus must have been written at Aswan (Syene).
While the argument might not be completely compelling, the texts of the
papyrus betray obvious affinities with the religious situation encountered
among the diaspora communities of Syene and Elephantine. The papyrus
is a collection of ritual songs, laments, and historical narratives. The songs
address several gods who are familiar from the Elephantine papyri and the
Hermopolis letters. They mention Yaho, Bethel, Anat-Bethel, the Queen
of Heaven, Eshem-Bethel, Herem-Bethel, and Nabu—among other West
Semitic and Babylonian deities. There are also references made to places—
Hamath, Aram, Lebanon, Babylon, Judah, Jerusalem, Samaria—that have
been associated with the origins of the Arameans of Aswan and the Ele-
phantine Jews.
gods. This leaves us with columns xiv–xvii. What distinguishes these col-
umns from the rest is the plurality of gods and the particular combination
of deities, notably Eshem-Bethel in conjunction with Nabu (xvi 1–3) and
Herem-Bethel as the lover of Nanay (xvii 7–14). In addition, there is re-
peated reference to a caravan city in the desert, close to a perennial source
of water, and offering shelter and protection. This is section 4. Its compo-
sitions reflect a religious pluralism that is best explained as the consequence
of the encounter of the three communities in a common place of refuge.
Though the sections are not formally delimited, their identification is
essential for the correct understanding of the compilation. The textual com-
munity behind the papyrus is composite. The first three sections reflect its
composition: there are Babylonians, Syrians, and Israelites. Our papyrus
comes from Egypt. It is no coincidence that the three communities whose
traditions the Amherst papyrus preserves correspond to the main groups of
West Asiatic migrants in Persian Egypt. These diaspora communities could
be found throughout the country in all major garrison towns, especially at
the borders. We know them best through the Aramaic papyri and ostraca
from Elephantine, Hermopolis, and Memphis. Their religion echoes the
traditions contained in the Amherst papyrus. In the Jewish quarter of Ele-
phantine Island, there was a temple of Yaho. The Hermopolis letters refer
to temples in Syene for Nabu and Banit, on the one hand, and for Bethel
and the Queen of Heaven, on the other. The goddess Banit is none other
than Nanay. As noted in Chapter 3, her name comes from the Babylonian
word bānītu, “Beautiful One,” an epithet of Nanay. The consort of Bethel
is Anat (or Anat-Bethel); her epithet, “Queen of Heaven,” was also familiar
to the Jews of Egypt ( Jeremiah 44). The presence of three ethnic communi-
ties (Babylonians, Syrians, Jews) is also reflected in the personal names en-
countered in the West Semitic diaspora of early Egypt. The most frequent
theophoric elements of those names are “Nabu,” “Banit,” and “Nanay”
(among the Babylonians); “Bethel” (the Syrians); and “Yaho” (the Jews).
different sections of the papyrus can lead us to the three communities’ places
and times of origin. Since this book is about the Elephantine Jews, our first
impulse may be to start with the Israelite section of the papyrus (columns
xii–xiii). However, the historical and geographic data of the Syrian section
(columns vi–xi) are more explicit. Wisdom counsels an approach that starts
with the section about the Arameans from Syria.
Chapter 3 demonstrated that a major component of the Aramean dias-
pora in Egypt had its roots in central Syria, more specifically in the region
of Hamath. Important evidence for this is the combined worship of Bethel,
Anat-Bethel, and Eshem. The Syrian section of the Amherst papyrus pro-
vides corroborating evidence, most explicitly Bethel’s title “Resident of
Hamath.” Another one of the god’s titles is “Guardian of Siyan.” Siyan
(modern Tall Siyānu) is the name of a town in Syria, about eighty kilome-
ters west of Hamath, located on the western flank of the Jebel Ansariya, the
mountain range that prolongs the Lebanon and leads up to Mount Zaphon
in the north. Under Tiglath-Pileser III (r. 745–727 BCE), the Assyrians
defeated the “land” or “city” of Siyan. The Hamath connection of the Ara-
means from Syria is implied, too, by a royal prayer, followed by a divine
assurance of support. Both the structure of the text and the content of the
oracle are strongly reminiscent of the Zakkur inscription. Zakkur reigned
as king of Hamath in the early eighth century BCE. His inscription com-
memorates an attack by a coalition of enemy kings and his delivery by the
god Baal-Shamayin. In response to the king’s call for help, the god gave an
oracle: “Do not fear. ( . . . ) I will deliver you.” Those words echo in the or-
acle that the unidentified king in the Amherst papyrus receives: “⌈PN⌉, my
servant, do not fear! I will deliver you!” The only partly legible opening and
closing lines that bracket the prayer in the papyrus seem to turn the oracle
into a promise for the future. What the god said in the past is still valid.
According to the Syrian section, the Arameans left their homeland to
escape from military violence. A chorus, connecting four Bethel songs into
a cycle, speaks about their present troubles and their hope for a brighter
future:
He will help us,
We shall rise again in peace.
May he keep watch, the Guardian of Siyan,
May he help us, the God of Rash.
I keep groaning and moaning.
These Syrians have become “fugitives.” The reference to “my father and my
generation” suggests that the traumatic events they are looking back upon
are relatively recent. One song of this cycle describes a dream in which the
protagonist is transported back to the land of his youth. Apparently, not
more than one generation has passed since the catastrophe.
The lament that opens the Syrian section evokes the nature of the vio-
lence that the community has experienced:
[The ter]rors, Lord,
The t[errors,] we are howling,
The terrors [we have] se[en.]
They [ru]ined for you
All your cities.
Trembling dwells in the land.
The [dis]tressed ones turn to you,
The entire community
Of your consecrated ones.
The people of your sons
And your servant girls—
They put their hands in shackles,
All of them they carried and drove away.
The attribution of the title “Bull” is evidence of the Samarian origin of the
song. According to the book of Kings, King Jeroboam had set up images
of a golden calf, one in Bethel and one in Dan. They represented Yah-
weh: “This is your god, O Israel, who brought you up from the land of
Egypt!” (1 Kgs 12:28). The occasion on which Jeroboam inaugurated the
bull calf image at Bethel was precisely the New Year festival (1 Kgs 12:32).
This bovine god would henceforth be the god of Israel—the “Calf of Sa-
maria,” as Hosea says, embodying the “Yahweh of Samaria,” known from
an inscription from the Negev. This Samarian tradition contrasts with
the Jerusalem iconography in which Yahweh is the one “who is enthroned
on the cherubim.” The identification of Yaho and Bethel could be taken
as another indication of the song’s northern origins. The book of Jeremiah
speaks about the veneration of Bethel as an aberration of Israel, that is, the
Northern Kingdom ( Jer 48:13).
A historical narrative in the midst of section 4 confirms the Samarian
antecedents of the Israelite group that came to be included in the textual
community of the Amherst papyrus. The passage in question presents itself
as an eyewitness account of the arrival of a group of soldiers at the gates of
the city:
They [came (?)] toward the evening watch.
Broken men during [the mor]ning watch.
[With] my own eyes I saw
A troop of men co[mi]ng up.
The Samarians made their way
To my lord, the king.
—From where are you, young man?
From where are the [pe]ople of your dialect?
—I come from [ J]udah,
My brothers have been brou[ght]
From Samaria.
And now a man is bringing
My sister from Jerusalem.
—Come in, you, young man,
We will give you shelter.
Take a qab-measure of wheat
On your shoulder, boy.
We will know your people as a banner.
On your table
There will be put bowls.
And from every pitcher
Wine will be gulped down.
The account of the city’s devastation that follows is put in the mouth of the
conqueror:
The literary persona who speaks these words is most likely the army
commander. His “brothers” are the soldiers who take his orders. The city
they have ruined has no name. It was fortified (“its walls”), located in the
highlands (“under tall cedars”), prosperous (“whose people feasted on
plenty”), and dependent for its water supply on a well (or cistern) and a
channel. Richard Steiner has suggested that the reference is to the town
of Bethel. Sven P. Vleeming and Jan Willem Wesselius have speculated
that the text is speaking about Jerusalem or Tyre. Since the refugees are
from Samaria, the description most likely refers to a major city in the Sa-
marian highlands—perhaps the city of Samaria itself. Located on “the hill
of Samaria,” the city of Samaria was surrounded by walls. In view of Amos’s
reference to “the cows of Bashan on the hill of Samaria,” the prosperity of
Samaria’s citizens was, at one time, proverbial (Amos 4:1; cf. Amos 6:4–6).
The well or cistern could be “the pool of Samaria.” The identification re-
mains conjecture but fits the historical context. In 721 BCE, Sargon II be-
sieged and conquered Samaria. According to Assyrian sources, the Samar-
ians had been hostile and refused to bring tribute. The “filthy insolence”
our text speaks about may well refer to Samaria’s attempts to rid itself of its
vassal status.
The event that caused an Aramean exodus from central Syria was the
fall of Hamath in 720 BCE. The Israelite section of the Amherst papyrus
Hamath was exiled from its homeland. They, too, were trying to escape the
Assyrian violence. At some point, the Samarians on the run and the Syr-
ian refugees found themselves in the same place. Their encounter was not a
transitory meeting but the beginning of a period of prolonged interaction.
They came to constitute two components of a society that included the
Babylonian Arameans as well. There is more to be said about the Babylo-
nian community and its background. For now, though, let us focus on the
locality where the refugee communities met.
In order to determine the place of asylum for the three communities—
Syrians, Samarians, and Babylonians—we have to sift through the evidence
contained in section 4 of Papyrus Amherst 63 (columns xiv–xvii). This is
where the architects of the compilation inserted the narrative about the Sa-
marians looking for shelter (xvii 1–6). It is the section that closes the com-
pilation, since section 5—the Tale of Two Brothers—is in fact an appendix.
What characterizes section 4 is an atmosphere of religious pluralism. It is as
though the three communities have pooled their traditions so as to create a
new religious universe. The traditional deities have not disappeared but have
been equated with others and find themselves in new constellations. The
only other part of the papyrus where this happens is in columns viii–ix (in
the Syrian section), which may also reflect the realities that obtained in the
new multicultural surroundings. Section 4 of the papyrus also contains a de-
scription of, and various references to, the place of refuge that the Arameans
had come to and where the Samarians found shelter. More or less in keeping
with the practice in other parts of the papyrus, this place of refuge remains
anonymous. Yet the descriptions do allow us to make an informed guess.
The most extensive description of the city is found in column xvi. It
pictures a city in the evening. The daily activities have come to a stop, and
humans and beasts are resting from their labor:
At sunset Haddu is strong,
The Overseer of Rash.
And the people have put themselves at ease
In the temple of the Lord.
The caravan of wanderers
Lies down in your guardroom.
The cattle have been sated,
Within you, at your source.
to a caravan city, an oasis in the desert with palms and a perennial spring.
Some of these elements could apply to Aswan or Elephantine. However,
the absence of any reference to a river rules them out as candidates. For the
twin cities in the deep south, the Nile was a lifeline. It was bound to figure
in any description.
If the city that offered shelter was not in Egypt, where was it located?
In addition to the description of a caravan city at an oasis in the desert, sec-
tion 4 contains two other clues. One is the constellation of deities: the city
must have had sanctuaries for Nabu, Nanay, Baal-Shamayin, and Bethel
and his avatars. The other is the name of the land the city belonged to.
Haddu (Hadad), the patron of the city, is called the “Overseer of Rash.”
Nanay shines “from Rash” and is “the Queen over all of Aram.” Rash
and Aram designate a territory. By identifying that territory, we narrow
down the number of cities that the description in section 4 might refer
to. The territory of Aram runs from Aleppo in the north to Damascus in
the south, and from the Mediterranean in the west to Palmyra in the east.
Rash, on the other hand, is an unfamiliar name. What area does it refer to?
According to Steiner, the land of Rash mentioned in the Amherst papy-
rus is the land between Babylonia and Elam, which the Assyrians called
Rashu or Arashu. The strongest argument in favor of this identification
is the name. Also, the references to Elam and places in Elam could be
interpreted as supporting evidence. However, it is hard to believe that
the Samarians would have wandered all the way to the borders of Elam in
search of shelter. Also, the partial parallelism between Aram and Rash does
not point in the direction of southern Babylonia and Elam. There is reason
to question Steiner’s identification of Rash, then.
In order to properly evaluate the data about Rash, it is necessary to
differentiate between the five sections that make up the papyrus. The only
section in which the name “Rash” does not figure at all is the appendix (sec-
tion 5, columns xviii–xxiii). In all other sections, Rash occurs as the home-
land of the gods and the theater from which they operate. Nevertheless, a
statistical comparison between the four sections shows a significant con-
centration of references to Rash in the Syrian section (section 2, columns
vi–xi). Here we have nineteen mentions of Rash—not counting the refer-
ences to “the God of Rash”—versus three mentions of Rash in section 1
(columns i–v), one mention in section 3 (columns xii–xiii), and five men-
tions in section 4 (columns xiv–xvii). The Syrian section has a focus on the
god Bethel. Not only does Bethel operate from Rash, he is also the only god
in the papyrus to carry the title “God of Rash.” The latter phrase has almost
become a proper name in its own right. The orthography reflects the con-
ventional character of the expression. As demonstrated by this traditional
epithet, then, Rash is the home of Bethel first and foremost.
According to the Syrian section, Rash is a land with cities and towns.
The women who live there are “the daughters of Rash.” The occasional
reference to Darga-and-Rash suggests that the land of Rash is a moun-
tainous area, a highland of sorts. The word “Darga” means “staircase,
stairs” and is used metaphorically for an ascent or mountain slope. Rash
means “head” and is used metaphorically for striking elevations in the land-
scape. “Darga-and-Rash” may be tentatively translated as “Ascent-and-
Mountaintop.” This fits with the fact that Bethel is said to be “dwelling
on the mountains.” Once Rash occurs in parallel with Lebanon, which
supports the interpretation of Rash as the name of a highland:
From the Lebanon,
Lord, from Rash,
You strike the entire earth.
but is still part of the territory known in antiquity as Aram (and earlier as
Amurru or Hatti). In the late Roman period, a succession of local kings
ruled over the city-state. It is also quite conceivable that Palmyra was
a monarchy at the time the Samarians arrived there. The oasis owed its
existence to the presence of a perennial spring called the Efca. Though all
the written evidence from Palmyra is from the late Hellenistic and Roman
periods, the city had been an important port of call on the trade route from
Damascus to the middle Euphrates since the third millennium BCE. Such
was its renown in antiquity that a late biblical source attributes its founda-
tion to King Solomon (2 Chr 8:3): “He built Tadmor in the desert.” Elabo-
rating upon this passage, Josephus provides a more detailed description in
his Antiquities of the Jews (late first century CE):
Solomon went as far as the desert above Syria, and possessed himself of it,
and built there a very great city, which was distant two days’ journey from
Upper Syria, and one day’s journey from the Euphrates, and six long days’
journey from Babylon the Great. Now the reason why this city lay so re-
mote from the parts of Syria that are inhabited is this: That below there is
no water to be had, and that it is in that place only that there are springs
and pits of water. When he had therefore built this city, and encompassed it
with very strong walls, he gave it the name of Tadmor, and that is the name
it is still called by at this day among the Syrians; but the Greeks name it
Palmyra.
prominence of Bol still echoes in personal names from the period and in
such compound divine names as “Yarhi-Bol” and “Agli-Bol.” In the Am-
herst papyrus, the name of the god Bol occurs three times. It is written as
bʾl, and its pronunciation may have been /bāl/, similar to the appearance
of the god’s name in the Amorite personal name “Yamūt-Bāl” (Bāl-has-
died). The name “Bāl”/ “Bol” goes back to “Baal” (Lord), the standard title
of the West Semitic storm god Hadad. In the Amherst papyrus, the name
“Bol” (or “Bāl”) is used twice to address the god Bethel. In one other in-
stance, Nabu is called the “son of Bol,” which implies an early identification
of Bol with the Babylonian god Bel/Hadad. On the basis of this evidence,
it is legitimate to surmise that the Arameans from Syria and Babylonia ad-
opted the cult of Bol, identifying this Palmyrene deity with their own gods
Bethel (the Syrians) and Bel/Hadad (the Babylonians).
All the written evidence from Palmyra is from late Hellenistic and Ro-
man times. It would be naïve to suppose that the religious panorama reflected
in these later texts has a one-to-one correspondence with the situation in
Palmyra in the seventh and sixth centuries BCE. Nevertheless, there are
some striking parallels. Two major gods in section 4 of the Amherst papyrus
are Nabu and Baal-Shamayin. Both gods had sanctuaries in Roman Pal-
myra. As for Nanay, her name is attested in Palmyrene tesserae (entrance
tickets to religious banquets). In Roman Palmyra, Nanay was also known
under her title “Baʿaltak,” meaning “Lady of the Sanctuary.” It occurs in
the Amherst papyrus under the form “Mārat-ʾayāk,” which is the Aramaic
variant of the Assyrian “Belat-ayakki.” Two other goddesses of Roman
Palmyra can also be traced back to divine titles encountered in our papy-
rus. On the tesserae from Palmyra, there are references to Herta. “Herta”
means “the Spouse” and occurs in Amherst 63 as the title of the consort of
Bethel. Another Palmyrene goddess is Shalmat (variant Shalma). She
is likely related to the goddess Shalma, consort of Bethel in her manifesta-
tion as the evening star, also mentioned in Papyrus Amherst 63.
One could make the counterargument that Bethel and his avatars
Eshem-Bethel and Herem-Bethel never occur in Palmyrene texts. This
is true inasmuch as their names are absent. Whether this means that the
gods themselves were unknown is another matter. As demonstrated above,
the Syrians identified their god Bethel with the local Palmyrene deity Bol.
In the Palmyrene pantheon, the god Bol has two avatars: Agli-Bol and
Yarhi-Bol. The literal meanings of these names are “Calf-(of-)Bol” and
“Golden-Bol.” The former is Bol in his manifestation as the moon, the
latter as the sun. The sun god Yarhi-Bol was also the “Idol of the Source,”
meaning the Efca. In this capacity, the god was represented by a bethel.
In the Amherst papyrus, such a standing stone incorporates the divine
presence of Bethel (who draws his name from the symbol) and Hadad/Bel,
the “Bull-of-Babylon,” as one text calls him. According to the Amherst
papyrus, Hadad is the patron god of the “perennial fountain.” All this
confirms the identification of Bethel, Hadad/Bel, and Bol. It also shows
that Yarhi-Bol and Agli-Bol are not deities separate from Bol but distinct
manifestations of the latter. In this respect, there is a correspondence be-
tween Agli-Bol and Eshem-Bethel, since the latter is Bethel in his mani-
festation as god of the night. How about Yaho at Palmyra? Given his
identification with Bethel, the Israelite deity Yaho might be included in
Bethel’s identification with Bol. Perhaps, however, Yaho is to be identi-
fied with the anonymous god in the Palmyrene texts, “blessed be his name
forever,” “the merciful one,” “the god who is good and generous.” In this
connection, the one-time reference to “Throne-of-Yaho” in the Amherst
papyrus deserves to be noted, as a Palmyra dedicatory inscription calls the
anonymous god the “Lord of the Throne.”
Based on the description of the place that offered the Samarians shelter,
its identification with Palmyra is quite compelling. Corroborative evidence
may be found in the cultural and religious pluralism that marked the place
where Babylonians, Syrians, and Samarians came to live together and that
seems to foreshadow the multicultural conditions of Palmyra in the late
Hellenistic and Roman periods. Nevertheless, the identification with Pal-
myra is tentative and in need of attendant corroboration. The descriptions
and allusions do not totally exclude other places, such as Edessa in upper
Mesopotamia. But even if there is no absolute certainty about the identity
of the city the Samarians came to, the description does exclude a location
in Egypt. This means that Samarians must have been in close contact with
Aramean groups from Syria and Babylonia before they migrated to Egypt.
Assuming the Samarians came looking for shelter around 700 BCE, their
encounter with Syrians and Babylonians preceded the migration to Egypt
by at least half a century. It meant exposure to a language and a culture with
which they previously had not been familiar, during a period of two or more
generations. At the end of this chapter, we will probe the Amherst papyrus
for more information on the timeline, paying particular attention to the
date of the move to Egypt.
version of a forerunner of Psalm 20. The biblical text is the Judean edition
of an originally North Israelite composition. The most likely scenario to
explain the transmission and transformation of the text is the transfer of
traditional religious literature from Samaria to Judah in the aftermath of
the fall of Samaria (721 BCE). The Hebrew original underlying the Ara-
maic version in the Amherst papyrus, then, must go back to the eighth
century BCE or earlier. The songs to Bethel borrow several elements of the
Baal mythology known from the Ugaritic texts of the Late Bronze Age
(ca. 1400 BCE). The presentation of Bethel as the “Destroyer of Yamm”
and as the god of thunderstorms especially goes back to an early period.
The songs in question presumably date to the eighth century BCE as well,
if not earlier.
Assuming that several texts collected in the Amherst papyrus are from
the eighth century BCE or before, one wonders when they found their way
into the compilation. It cannot have happened before 700 BCE because the
Samarians would have had no incentive to transform their Hebrew psalms
into Aramaic songs prior to their integration into an Aramaic-speaking
community. As argued above, the most likely event that impelled them to
seek shelter in the caravan city in the desert was Sennacherib’s campaign
against Judah in 701. The analysis of the structure of the compilation yields
another argument in favor of a date after 700. The first three sections col-
lect individual traditions of the three separate communities (Babylonians,
Syrians, Samarians), while section 4 consists of material that reflects their
interaction in their newfound home. The logic of this structure implies
that the compilation of sections 1–4 took place after 700 BCE—the ear-
liest conceivable date of their encounter. One might argue that the post
quem date should be brought down considerably lower because the death
of Shamashshumukin, described in the Tale of Two Brothers, occurred in
648 BCE. Some decades may have elapsed between the events and their
integration into a court novella. This would bring the earliest date of
the compilation down to about 620 BCE. However, since the Tale of Two
Brothers is clearly an appendix, it should not be used to determine the date
of the compilation to which it has been attached. The Tale of Two Brothers
occupies a position comparable to that of tablet xii with respect to the rest
of the Gilgamesh Epic, Isaiah 37–39 with respect to the First Isaiah collec-
tion, or Jeremiah 52 with respect to the book of Jeremiah. In fact, it is also
possible to argue that the compilation of sections 1–4 must have occurred
before the Tale of Two Brothers came into circulation. On that premise, the
original compilation would have been made between 700 and 600 BCE.
A close look at the contents of Papyrus Amherst 63 yields a clue about
the occasion that may have impelled the scribes to produce the compila-
tion. This occasion may lead us, in turn, to the time of composition. Rich-
ard C. Steiner has characterized the Amherst papyrus as “the liturgy of a
New Year’s festival.” Though Steiner’s reading of the text prevents him
from seeing the way it was structured in sections, his observation that much
of it deals with the New Year festival is correct. The sections that contain
the separate traditions of the Babylonian, Syrian, and Samarian communi-
ties have a common focus on the celebrations of the New Year. The term
“New Year” occurs only in the Babylonian section, where the girls chant to
Nanay, “My gift is for you on New Year’s Day.” Yet much of the Syrian
and the Samarian sections is set in the New Year festival as well. Each sec-
tion has its particular accents. In the Babylonian section, the focus is on the
marriage of Nabu and Nanay, Nanay’s loving care for the king, and Nanay’s
elevation as Queen of Heaven, embodied by the rise of the evening star.
The Syrian section shares the focus on sacred marriage and the rise of the
evening star. Here the marriage is between Bethel and his queen in heaven,
which has a counterpart down below in the selection of a girl to be the god’s
priestess for the year to come. Both Bethel and his queen—no proper name
is given—are to manifest themselves in the sky, one as the new moon and
the other as the evening star. The Samarian section, finally, deviates from
the pattern inasmuch as Yaho/Adonai is without a partner in the songs. As
a matter of consequence, there is no sacred marriage. But the three Israelite
psalms do speak about the appearance of the new moon and a banquet
of choice meat and wine to celebrate Yaho’s kingship over the gods. Yaho
determines the destinies for the year to come. The cycle of three songs pro-
vides an insight into the New Year festival as it was celebrated in Israel.
Several elements of sections 1–3 return in a modified form in section 4.
The songs in the Palmyra section yield their full meaning only when read as
a sequence of ritual texts to mark the beginning of the New Year. A string of
references indicates that the ceremonies start in the evening and continue
throughout the night: cold descends upon the desert; it is evening; stars il-
luminate the city; and people keep a vigil until the sun rises. Two classic
elements of the New Year celebrations are the divine endorsement of the
human king and the marriage of the leading god and goddess. In section 4
of the Amherst papyrus, these elements take the form of a divine oracle by
Eshem-Bethel and Nabu promising the king a reign of everlasting peace
and a love lyric on Nanay’s marriage to Herem-Bethel. The composition
that opens this sequence of songs speaks about a chariot procession car-
rying a stele of Bel/Hadad and hints at the inauguration of the renovated
temple of Nanay. Throughout, there are references to the population get-
ting their fill from jars of wine and inebriating drink. Everything in these
texts points to celebrations of the New Year.
From the written records of Roman Palmyra we know that the inaugu-
ration of the temple of Bel was scheduled to coincide with the beginning of
the New Year. According to the Syrian section of the Amherst papyrus,
there was a similar connection between the New Year festival and the in-
auguration of the temple of Bethel. In light of these data, it is legitimate
to link the New Year festivities described in section 4 of the papyrus to the
inauguration of the renovated temple of Nanay and Nabu. We have no date
for the event. Given the context, the temple must have stood in the city of
sources. If the latter is indeed to be identified with Palmyra, the temple of
Nanay and Nabu must have been a predecessor of the Nabu temple dis-
covered in Roman Palmyra. Its inauguration took place sometime in the
seventh century BCE. It was this particular occasion, it would seem, that
provided the incentive to collect traditional songs of the constituent com-
munities of the city into one compilation.
If the reconstruction outlined here is correct, the texts in sections 1–4
of Papyrus Amherst 63 were compiled before (parts of ) the Babylonian,
Syrian, and Samarian communities migrated to Egypt. It was a literary
heritage they brought to Egypt. Attendant confirmation of this scenario
may be found in the fact that there is nothing in the Amherst papyrus that
betrays an exposure to Egyptian culture. It seems as though the people
whose traditions it preserves had never been to Egypt. There is not a single
Egyptian loanword nor any reference to an Egyptian god or to conditions
of life on Egyptian soil. In this respect, the use of Demotic to transliter-
ate the Aramaic is deceptive. It should not be taken as a sign of the Egyp-
tian setting of the traditions contained in the papyrus. There is nothing
Egyptian about those. As the analysis above has demonstrated, many of
the texts in the collection go back to the eighth century or earlier. Except
for the Tale of Two Brothers, added later as an appendix, scribes compiled
these traditions in the seventh century BCE.
For more than a century, the origins of the Elephantine Jews have
been a mystery. Owing to the decipherment of Papyrus Amherst 63, many
pieces of the puzzle now fall into place. Most of the men and women we
have come to think of as Jews were in fact Samarian Arameans. They had
a hyphenated identity, somewhat similar to the double identity of Jewish
Americans. By geographical origin, they were from Samaria. Having lived
for about a century in the Aramaic-speaking environment of Palmyra, they
had become Arameans. They had stayed loyal to their ancestral god Yaho
but equated him with the storm god Bethel. In addition to Aramaic as
their new language, they had also adopted several Aramean deities associ-
ated with Bethel: Anat-Bethel, Eshem-Bethel, and Herem-Bethel. Toward
600 BCE, they had migrated to Egypt, along with the Syrians and Baby-
lonians they had lived with in Palmyra. In the deep south of Egypt, they
settled in different neighborhoods: the Samarians at Elephantine, the Syr-
ians and the Babylonians at Syene. The settlement pattern probably corre-
sponded to the one they were used to in the place they had come from. The
three groups considered themselves Arameans but were also aware of their
distinct identities. As the final chapter will show, the particular identity of
the Samarian Arameans would go through a transformation. In the end,
the Elephantine experience would turn them into Jews.
89
ancestors of the Elephantine Jews had already been in the armed forces.
The account of their arrival at Palmyra says they were part of a “troop.” Af-
ter their Judean commander had explained where they came from, the local
king told him that his men would be a “banner,” that is a military unit. It is
the equivalent of what, in the Elephantine documents, is known as a degel
(literally, “flag”), customarily translated as “battalion” or “detachment.” In
the seventh century BCE, the caravan route through the Syrian Desert was
dangerous. Given the importance of safe trade, several Assyrian kings sent
troops to secure unimpeded traffic. One such king was Assurbanipal. The
campaign against raiding Arab tribes brought his armed forces to Arak, a
satellite town twenty-seven kilometers northeast of Palmyra and part of
its territory. Palmyra needed trained men for its defense. The Samarians
had come as soldiers and would be employed as soldiers. The references
to “much booty” and “fines imposed upon the enemy,” also in the Palmyra
section of the Amherst papyrus, suggest that the military exploits they were
expected to perform were not merely defensive.
The Samarians migrated to southern Egypt toward the end of the sev-
enth century. They had a background as military professionals. In an at-
tempt to get away from political instability and oppression, they chose to
come to Egypt because they knew that their skills were in demand. They
were not the only ones. The fall of Jerusalem in 587 BCE led to a migra-
tion of Judeans too. It was an exodus in reverse, under the leadership of
the military. According to Jer 44:1, there were Judean colonies in the Nile
delta (Migdol, Tahpanhes), Memphis (Noph), and the southern province
(Pathros)—all places with garrisons. In light of Aramaic and Greek texts
from Egypt, the names of Edfu (midway between Thebes and Elephan-
tine) and Thebes may be added to the list. From all over the East Medi-
terranean and West Asia, foreign soldiers were arriving in Egypt. Besides
Samarians and Judeans, there were Arab, Carian, Greek, Phoenician, Asi-
atic, and Iranian mercenaries. Egypt had been employing non-Egyptian
soldiers for some time. At the beginning of the sixth century BCE, foreign
mercenaries left their graffiti in the Ramses temple at Abu Simbel. They
were part of the troops of Psammetichus the Younger on his expedition
against the Nubians. After 525, the Persians continued the Egyptian prac-
tice. From the Nile delta to the deep south, the garrisons employed soldiers
from a variety of backgrounds.
Studies of the foreign military colonies in Egypt often refer to them
as “mercenary communities.” The adjective implies that the men received
a salary for their services. There is some written evidence in support of this
assumption. The so-called Padua letter is a message from a Jewish father
to his son, both active in the military. Amid several inquiries and words of
encouragement, the father mentions the wages to be paid to his son and
his colleagues. The letter refers to a practice at Migdol up in the north.
Another letter, written in the late sixth or early fifth century BCE, sug-
gests that at least some of the soldiers in the south were mercenaries too.
The letter is from Makki-Banit, an Aramean from Syene on a mission in
Memphis. Writing home, he informs his sister that “wages have been given
to them here,” “them” being the group of Syenian soldiers temporarily in
Memphis. The letter implies that wages were normally paid out in Syene.
From Elephantine Island, we have an ostracon listing four names of “the
Jews that received wages.” Another ostracon has a reference to the dis-
tribution of wages. And among the few papyri dating to the time of the
ostraca (first quarter of the fifth century BCE), there is a contract in which
a Jewish scribe promises to pay back a loan “month by month from my
wages, which they will pay me from the treasury.” His wages, then, were
monthly and paid out in cash.
In addition to the money paid out to various members of the Jew-
ish community, there are also references to remunerations in kind, consist-
ing mostly of grain. This payment in kind, disbursed from a place that
was known as “the royal treasury” or “the royal storehouse,” was called the
“ration.” On occasion, the texts mention a woman as recipient. Mibtahyah,
the sister of Yedanyah, the leader of the Jewish community during the fi-
nal decades of the fifth century BCE, donated her ration from the royal
storehouse to her sister, in return for the support she had received. The
civil status of Mibtahyah is unknown, as are the grounds on which she was
entitled to a ration. Do these data imply that all the Jews received wages in
silver and in kind? Such is the conclusion reached by Arthur Cowley, who
writes that all the Jews “received rations and pay, as a retaining fee.”
Cowley’s choice of words is intriguing. He speaks of a “retaining fee,”
implying that the wages were not remuneration for full-time employment.
The Jews had other sources of income. It might seem a technical matter, but
it is not. In later times, when Egypt was under the rule of the Ptolemies,
there was a difference between mercenaries and cleruchs. The mercenaries
were the misthophoroi, the ones who were employed as full-time soldiers
with a fixed salary (misthos). The cleruchs, on the other hand, did not receive
a salary but had an income through the parcel of land they had been given
A Temple Community
Even though the ancestors of the Elephantine Jews had lived at close
quarters with the Arameans in Palmyra, in the deep south of Egypt, Jews
and Arameans lived in different neighborhoods. Whereas the Syrians and
the Babylonians lived in Syene, the Jews lived on Elephantine Island. Jews
and Arameans served in the same garrison (known in the texts as the “Sy-
enian garrison”), but each group had its domestic life in its own quarters.
These quarters were built around a temple. The temple of Yaho was at the
heart of the Jewish neighborhood, whereas the Babylonian Arameans had
their houses in proximity to the temples of Nabu and Banit, and the Syr-
ians lived around the temples of Bethel and the Queen of Heaven. The
settlement pattern shows that the boundaries between the three communi-
ties had not been erased through their stay in Palmyra. Though the texts
make it clear that the Jews had adopted much of the Aramean culture of
their neighbors (including several Aramean gods), they had not sacrificed
their distinct identity. Nor had the Babylonians or the Syrians. The three
communities shared a past in Palmyra but remained aware of their separate
origins.
Many, if not all, of the foreign communities in Egypt had temples for
their ancestral gods. Religion was important to them. Military life came
with dangers. And living abroad gave new significance to the gods of the
ancestors. The places of worship provided access to the gods and cemented
the cohesion of the community. They were an embodiment in timber and
stone of their identity as a people in the diaspora. In the eastern Nile delta,
the Arab soldiers had a shrine for their goddess Han-Ilat. In Memphis,
the Aramean community from Babylonia had a temple for Nabu. One text
speaks about the priests of the temples in the plural, implying there were
other Aramean temples in Memphis. A funerary stele for a certain Anan,
“the priest of Baal,” might be interpreted as evidence for a Baal temple
in Memphis. The presence of a temple for Yaho at Elephantine and of
temples for Nabu, Banit, Bethel, and the Queen of Heaven at Syene, then,
is part of a pattern.
Since temples for foreign gods were part of a pattern among the vari-
ous diaspora communities, there is reason to reconsider the traditional bias
against the Elephantine Jews. Many authors have implied that the Yaho
temple at Elephantine was unique to the Jewish community of the island,
that it was proof of their isolation. But the Elephantine temple was less
unusual than commonly granted. About one hundred kilometers north of
Aswan lies the town of Edfu (t. bh, in Aramaic). Like Syene and Elephan-
tine, it was a city with a fortress. From the Persian period onward, there
was a Jewish community living there. Aramaic documents from the third
century BCE indicate there were several priests in the community—the
term is khn, as in Elephantine and in the Bible. The most plausible explana-
tion is that the colony at Edfu, like that of Elephantine, had a temple. In
the Ptolemaic era, there was another Jewish temple at Leontopolis. Had it
been erected as a rival to the Jerusalem temple, as Josephus intimates? It
must have appeared so from the perspective of the normative Judaism of
later times. Given the presence of Jewish temples in Elephantine and Edfu,
however, the Leontopolis sanctuary may in fact have been just another Jew-
ish temple in Egypt. The presence of a Yaho temple at Elephantine, at any
rate, was hardly unique.
Both the Elephantine ostraca and the earliest papyri mention the tem-
ple. They refer to it as “the house of Yaho” or simply as “the temple.” The
phrase “house of Yaho” combines the common Semitic word for “habita-
tion” with the name of the deity. It characterizes the temple as the dwelling
place of the god of the Jews. The term commonly translated as “temple”
has a Babylonian pedigree. The Aramaic word ʾagûrāʾ is an adaptation of
the Babylonian term ekurru, which is based on Sumerian ekur, meaning
“mountain house.” It was the name of a famous temple in southern Meso-
potamia and conveys the idea that the gods inhabited a place elevated above
human dwellings. By the fifth century BCE, ʾagûrāʾ was mainly the current
term for a prestigious religious building. A description from the year 407
implies that it had been a monumental building (the temple was in ruins
at the time). This was not a roadside chapel but a palace with a courtyard
surrounded by a heavy wall.
The temple of Yaho did not merely symbolize the god’s presence at
Elephantine Island but served as its material guarantee. This is where Yaho
lived. The phrase “Yaho the god who dwells in Elephantine” echoes the bib-
lical phrase “Yahweh S.ebaoth who dwells on Mount Zion.” The Jews of
Elephantine practiced a local cult of Yahweh the way worshippers all over
the eastern Mediterranean honored local manifestations of their gods. At
Elephantine, the Jews were not cultivating memories of the temple at Zion,
as some have speculated. Nor did they long for Samaria as the true dwell-
ing place of Yaho. Yaho had a real presence down in Egypt, in his temple
on the island. The temple was not a forerunner of the synagogue, a meet-
ing place for religious Jews, but the true abode of the god. If they wanted
to meet him, to beseech his favors, or make him a witness to their solemn
declarations, this is where they went. Somehow, some way, this is where
their god was physically present.
Precisely because a god inhabits his temple, it is first of all a place of
worship. The term “worship” should not be confused with spiritual exercises
and meditations designed to cultivate feelings of devotion. Worship was
not concerned with worshippers but with the god. As the divine patron
of the community, the deity was entitled to what A. Leo Oppenheim has
called “the care and feeding of the gods.” The root metaphor of the temple
cult is the ceremony of the royal court. The temple is a god’s palace, and
the priests are his servants. Priests at Elephantine came from high-ranking
families. Temple stewards assisted them, performing most of the daily
of the script and the people mentioned, it is most likely from the late fifth
century too. This time the oath is “by He[rem the go]d in the sanctuary
and by Anat-Yaho.” Anat-Yaho looks like a variant of Anat-Bethel and
must refer to a goddess. Herem or Herem-Bethel is qualified as “the god”
or “the god in the sanctuary.” The occurrence of Herem-Bethel as the lover
of Nanay in the Amherst papyrus proves that Herem-Bethel is really the
name of a god and not a reference to “the sacred property” of Bethel.
If the temple at Elephantine resembled temples elsewhere in the eastern
Mediterranean and West Asian world of the time, the presence of the gods
that lived there must have been embodied by symbols. The usual form of
such a symbol represents the god in the image of a human being, an animal,
or an object. Israelite religion has often been thought of as the exception to
this rule. The cult of Yahweh would have been aniconic, meaning without an
image. This school of thought turns the Israelites into the Protestants of the
past. There is room for suspicion, though. It is likely that the portable shrine
known as the ark contained an image that was later substituted with a copy
of the Torah. In the religious practice of Samaria (the Northern Kingdom),
Yahweh’s presence was symbolized by an image of a bull calf (the calves
of Bethel and Dan, satirized in the story of the golden calf ) or through a
bethel. Against this background, the presence of material symbols of the
gods in the Elephantine temple is a plausible scenario. In the one descrip-
tion that we have of the temple, in the 407 BCE petition to the Judean
governor, there is no reference to divine images, unless they were included in
“the furniture and other things that were there” or “the gold and silver basins
and other things that were in that temple.” Several scholars have argued
that the collection account of 400 BCE implies that there had been images.
They argue that that the money divided between Yaho, Eshem-Bethel, and
Anat-Bethel was in fact for the production of new images or symbols of
these gods. Ernst-Axel Knauf was the first to suggest this; other scholars
have followed him. It is, all things considered, a distinct possibility. With-
out material symbols of the divine presence, a temple cannot function. Jews
of Elephantine would normally take the oath by Yaho. The occasional oath
by other gods (Herem, Herem-Bethel, Anat-Yaho) was probably related to
the circumstance that there was no cult symbol of Yaho available at the time.
It is no coincidence that the texts that mention the oath by Yaho are all from
before the temple’s destruction in 410, whereas the cases of an oath by other
gods are from the final decade of the fifth century. Without the cultic pres-
ence of the god, the oath by Yaho would have been a hollow gesture.
Yaho
The Hebrew Bible writes the name of the Jewish god with the four
letters yhwh. Among contemporary scholars, the conventional pronuncia-
tion is “Yahweh,” but we are not absolutely sure this is correct. The earli-
est biblical manuscripts are consonantal, meaning that the scribes did not
add vowel signs. The later Bible manuscripts on which modern editions are
based have added the vowels for ʾădōnāy, “the Lord.” This has led to the
mispronunciation of the divine name as Jehovah—as in “Jehovah’s Wit-
nesses.” The cuneiform writing system does denote vowels. They indicate
that the forebears of the Jews pronounced the name of their god as “Yahu”
or “Yaho.” It is this abbreviated form that we find in the Elephantine ostraca
and papyri. Because of the variant spellings yhh (mostly in the ostraca) and
yhw (mostly in the papyri), the Elephantine Jews presumably pronounced
the name as “Yaho.” This is also the name we find in the three Israelite
psalms of the Amherst papyrus, where it alternates with Adonai (ʾdny).
Apparently, there was not a taboo on the utterance of the divine name.
It is tempting to think that the Yaho whom the Elephantine Jews wor-
shipped is the same god as “the Lord” (yhwh) of the Hebrew Bible. He is,
and he is not. The name is the same, but the god of the Bible is the edited
version. Modern Jews—or Christians, for that matter—would hesitate to
call their god “our Bull,” the way the forerunner of Psalm 20 in the Amherst
papyrus does. In fact, the Hebrew Bible criticizes the veneration of Yah-
weh in the form of a young bull calf: “I reject your calf, Samaria. . . . It is not
a god. No, the calf of Samaria shall be reduced to splinters.” In those places
in the Bible where Yahweh is referred to as a bull (ʾabbîr), the scribal editors
took care to read the word as “strong, mighty” (ʾābîr). The songs preserved
in the Amherst papyrus have not gone through this editorial process. They
do not shy away from the metaphor of the bull to extol the power of their
gods. Hadad is the “Bull-of-Babylon,” Eshem-Bethel has “the force of a di-
vine bull,” and Yaho is “our Bull.” Since the Elephantine Jews descended
from Samarians, it is possible they represented Yaho in their temple by the
image of a bullock. It would be entirely in keeping with the ritual practice
in what used to be the Northern Kingdom and in line with the iconography
of such West Semitic storm gods as Hadad and Baal.
The three songs to Yaho in the Samarian section of the Amherst papy-
rus celebrate Yaho as king of the gods. The third song does so by saying that
the host of heaven (literally, “the council of heaven”) proclaims Yaho’s rule.
The Aramaic expression “council of heaven” echoes the phrase “the council
of the heavens” from Ugaritic mythological texts. In a myth about Baal and
Anat, the council of the heavens occurs in parallel with “the assembly of the
stars.” From the context it is clear that these stars are the signs of the gods
(“the sons of El”). The parallel between stars and gods is familiar from the
Bible, too. There are several implications. First, the conceptual context of
these affirmations of Yaho’s position is polytheistic. Precisely because there
are many gods, it matters to be their leader. The polytheistic atmosphere
that pervades the Israelite psalms of the Amherst papyrus is tangible, too,
in the references to Baal-Shamayin and Baal-Zaphon congratulating Yaho
on the occasion of his rise to kingship. Second, if the multitude of the
stars stands for the council of the gods, the manifestation of their king is
either the moon or the sun—or both. This is a point we will have to address
when discussing the astral aspect of Yaho. The third implication is indirect;
it concerns the interpretation of the name “Yaho of hosts,” found twice in
the ostraca. It is the Elephantine variant of the biblical expression Yah-
weh S.ebaoth. Several scholars have suggested the Elephantine Jews had
a certain predilection for this divine name because they understood the
term s.ĕbāʾôt, “hosts,” in the sense of “armies.” Since they were a military
colony, the term seemed particularly appropriate. In view of the songs to
Yaho in the Amherst papyrus (as well as a lot of evidence from the Hebrew
Bible), the reference is most likely to the host of heaven. “Yaho of hosts” is
a reminder of the prominence of Yaho among the gods.
In the Samarian section of the Amherst papyrus, the first of the three
songs to Yaho—the forerunner to Psalm 20—contains another crucial
piece of information. At one point, the text equates Yaho and Bethel. The
identification of the two gods does not come as a complete surprise. Many
scholars had deduced as much from the occurrence of Anat-Bethel along-
side Anat-Yaho. If the gods differ only in name, it must be possible to
flesh out the profile of Yaho on the basis of descriptions of Bethel. For this
purpose, we must turn to the Syrian section of the Amherst papyrus. The
songs to Bethel portray him as a storm god in the image of Baal. In fact,
Bethel comes across as the successor to Baal since he has inherited much
of the mythological lore about Baal found in the texts from Ugarit. The
themes of Baal’s battle against the sea (Yamm), his accession to kingship,
and the building of a heavenly palace have been transferred to Bethel.
Like Baal, Bethel is both beneficent and terrifying: his rains bring fertility,
while his thunder sets the world ablaze. Scholars have long noted that the
Hebrew Bible uses many of these elements in its portrayal of Yahweh. In
that sense, the Elephantine conception of Yaho is not an innovation but a
continuation of a strand in Israelite tradition. The god of the Bible is not
the opposite of a storm god but a more perfect version. Some of the most
outspoken polemics against Baal in the Hebrew Bible make Yahweh suc-
ceed where Baal fails: He is the god who answers with fire and sends down
his rains. These views have strong roots in Samaria. They were part of the
religion that the Samarians brought to Palmyra and later to Elephantine.
Being a storm god, Bethel is typically a warrior. The songs collected in
the Amherst papyrus are full of references to Bethel doing battle. Bethel is
a god who “destroys enemies.” He “slays” them and “smashes them with a
righteous punishment.” Under the aspect of Eshem-Bethel, he is a war-
rior with the strength of a divine bull, shooting poisonous arrows at his
enemies and killing them off with a combat hammer. Yaho is not any
less martial. It must have been a reassurance for the Jewish soldiers at Ele-
phantine to know he was in their camp: “Some by the bow, some by the
spear—behold, as for us, my Lord, our God is Yaho!” The implication of
these words is not that the Jews should lay down their arms and become
pacifists. On the contrary, the belief that they had the divine warrior on
their side—“may our Bull be with us”—made them all the more valorous.
The prayer for new strength, found as a chorus in the third Israelite psalm
of the Amherst papyrus, is a soldier’s prayer. The god of these soldiers was
himself a powerful warrior.
If there is one aspect by which Bethel differs from Baal, it is his astral
appearance. In a sense, Bethel is more than a storm god. In the ritual songs
for the New Year celebration, Bethel is said to turn red like the sun and
to shine like the moon. From what follows it is clear that these are not
merely metaphors. The temporal setting of the ceremony is the evening. The
community celebrates the union of Bethel and his queen, the one rising as
the moon, the other as the evening star. At some point, clouds cover the
sky and obscurity sets in. It leads the worshippers to address Bethel as their
“Crescent”:
Our Crescent has been taken away,
The God of Rash.
The God of Rash is slumbering
On the day of [his] king[ship.]
And along with you, the Sons of El
Have put themselves to rest.
When the Crescent is slumbering,
All of them slumber.
And the chamber smells of slumber,
Which they built among your Mighty Ones. ( . . . )
Our Crescent,
You slumber in (lit., from) Rash!
You are dimmed because of love.
The light of his radiance has passed.
And his light is not high.
His light has turned dark.
Your <cl>oud is a seal, O Lord,
Send away your cloud for me!
Arise, wake up for me!
The song offers two explanations for the invisibility of the moon. The
one is natural, the other mythological. In the natural explanation, clouds
have covered the sky. In the mythological explanation, the moon is Bethel,
who has withdrawn to his heavenly chamber to sleep with his wife. In keep-
ing with the logic of the first explanation, Bethel is asked to send away the
clouds. Following the logic of the second interpretation, Bethel is to rouse
himself from sleep and come out of the bedchamber. Perhaps there is no
opposition: the clouds could be viewed as the curtains of the bedroom. The
mythological reading of the events draws a correspondence between the
rise of the crescent and the evening star, on the one hand, and the sacred
marriage of Bethel and his bride, on the other. By implication, the storm
god Bethel, here referred to as “our Crescent,” is also a lunar god.
The literary occurrence of the god Bethel in a lunar capacity is perhaps
unexpected yet is consonant with an increasing amount of iconographi-
cal data. Some of those data come from Roman Palmyra. Several entrance
tickets to religious festivals represent the god Agli-Bol as a bull carrying
a crescent on his back. The name “Agli-Bol” means “Calf-(of-)Bol.” He
is normally defined as a moon god, but it would perhaps be more precise
to say that he is the storm god in his manifestation as the moon. Earlier
iconographic evidence linking the storm god and the moon comes from
Tayma. A pedestal, originally located in a corner of the local sanctuary, has
two sides with decorations. One side portrays the head of a bull, hold-
ing a moon disk between his horns, with a winged sun disk to the left and
a crescent moon and Venus star to the right. The other side of the block
pictures a walking bull, with a full moon between his horns and a winged
sun disk above him, flanked by the eight-pointed star (Venus) and the cres-
cent moon. The gods of Tayma form a triad: S.ulmu, Shegal (šnglʾ), and
Ashima. As several scholars have argued, these gods have Syrian origins and
may be linked more specifically with Hamath. Significantly older is the
so-called Bethsaida stele (eighth century BCE). It depicts a bull-headed
figure with horns in the shape of crescents. The stele was presumably
erected at the gate of an ancient city belonging to the Aramean kingdom
of Geshur in the Golan Heights. There has been discussion of whether the
deity represented is the moon god or the storm god. In light of the literary
evidence of the traditions preserved in the Amherst papyrus, we may now
conclude that this image represents the storm god in his lunar capacity.
The notion of Bethel appearing as the moon is a clue to the understand-
ing of an otherwise enigmatic phrase in the first Israelite psalm: “Be a bow
in heaven, Crescent! Send your messengers from all of Rash!” The transla-
tion is tentative. However, all interpreters agree that there is a reference to
the moon (“crescent,” shr), and most of them think the song here actually
addresses the moon. The central issue, then, concerns the relationship
between Yaho and the crescent. On the strength of the references to Bethel
discussed above, the most plausible reading of the text takes the crescent
as a manifestation of Yaho and not as a separate deity. It implies that Yaho,
like Bethel, is associated with the moon. Under the impact of the Arame-
ans, it would seem, the Elephantine Jews came to understand the crescent
(and perhaps the moon in general) as a manifestation of Yaho. This is not
something that one would have guessed on the basis of the Hebrew Bible,
where the veneration of the moon counts among pagan practices. But at
Elephantine, the Jewish community did not have such scruples. At night,
their god was visible as the moon.
At Elephantine, finally, Yaho was believed to be a deity with a Diony-
sian side. He drank wine in large quantities and liked to hear music. The
sacrifice of fine lambs pleased him. In the three Yahwistic psalms of the
Amherst papyrus, Yaho is depicted as a bachelor. At Elephantine, however,
he had a partner called Anat (Anat-Bethel or Anat-Yaho, see the discus-
sion below), also known as the Queen of Heaven. In view of the love lyrics
between Nanay and Herem-Bethel in the Amherst papyrus, the relation-
ship between Yaho and his consort was hardly platonic. The presence of
such ideas in a Jewish community might come as a surprise to those who
believe that the Jews were the Puritans of antiquity. The latter, however, is a
questionable assumption.
Eshem-Bethel
One of the gods in residence in the Jewish temple at Elephantine was
Eshem-Bethel. The name of this deity occurs twice in the Amherst papy-
rus, both times in the Palmyra section. The first reference to Eshem-Bethel
occurs in an oracle where Eshem-Bethel is said to have chosen a young
man to be king and promises him a reign of everlasting peace. The text
contains very little that might help us in determining the profile of the de-
ity, except that Eshem-Bethel must have been a leading deity and perhaps
the god of the royal dynasty. One attendant detail of the oracle is its tem-
poral setting. Like the rest of the texts in the Palmyra section, the oracle to
the king is spoken in the evening. It is possible, then, that Eshem-Bethel
has a particular connection with the evening or the night.
The second text that mentions Eshem-Bethel is considerably more
forthcoming with descriptions of the deity. The ritual song casts Eshem-
Bethel in the role of protector of the city. At night, the god watches over its
safety and keeps its enemies at bay:
The force of a divine bull is your force.
Indeed, Eshem-Bethel,
The force of a divine bull is your force.
Your venom is like asps.
Your bow in heaven,
have never seen.” The divine epiphany will be from the traditional land of
Bethel, also referred to in the oracle in the Syrian section of the Amherst
papyrus. Fire, too, is typical of Bethel. Several songs in the Amherst pa-
pyrus picture him as the god who answers with fire. Eshem-Bethel does so
too. Clearly, the relation of Eshem-Bethel to Bethel is close. In fact, it is
difficult to really distinguish between the profiles of the two deities, except
for the fact that Eshem-Bethel seems to be connected more specially with
the evening and the night.
The name “Eshem” occurs in two variants. In the Aramaic texts from
Egypt and in the Amherst papyrus, the name is spelled ʾš(m). Usually,
the form is transcribed in modern languages as “Eshem.” The alternative
pronunciation is “Ashim,” based on the assumption that Eshem is identi-
cal with Ashima, the god of the people of Hamath (2 Kgs 17:30). In fact,
“Ashima” (ʾšymʾ) is the other spelling of the god’s name. For many years,
scholars believed that the biblical rendering of the god’s name was a garbled
version. Since the discovery of references to Ashima in Aramaic inscrip-
tions from Tayma, it is clear that the biblical spelling is correct. The Tayma
texts write the god’s name in exactly the same way. “Ashima” (ʾšymʾ),
then, was a well-established variant of “Eshem” (ʾšm). The form ʾšm is Bab-
ylonian in origin. Pronounced as “Ishum,” it is the name of a warrior god
to whom humans turn for protection, especially at night. Ishum is, as the
Song of Erra says, the “torch” that makes the night as light as the day. The
god was known in Syria, as demonstrated by a sacrificial list from Ugarit.
The alphabetic version of the list writes the name as itm, whereas the paral-
¯
lel list has his name in the traditional syllabic writing. At Ugarit, the god
Ishum is associated with the moon god Shaggar. Ishum’s association with
the moon seems to fit the evidence from Tayma, where the iconographic
evidence points to a link between Ashima and the moon.
The Aramaic-speaking communities of Palmyra that later moved
to Syene and Elephantine abandoned the dialectal variant “Ashima” and
adopted the Babylonian spelling “Eshem.” We don’t know how they actually
pronounced the name. A perfectly Babylonian name such as Ishum-kudurri
(written ʾšmkdry), encountered at Syene, demonstrates that ʾšm is really the
Babylonian variant of the name. The reference to Eshem-Bethel’s coming
forth “in a fire” (bʾš) suggests that the Aramaic-speaking worshippers of the
god associated his name with the word for fire (ʾš). Several scholars have
argued that this is the correct explanation for Ishum’s name. Perhaps it
Herem-Bethel
The most enigmatic god of the Elephantine papyri is Herem. The name
occurs mostly separate and once in the construct “Herem-Bethel.” The
compound name has been interpreted as a reference to the “sacred precinct,
sanctuary” or the “sacred substance, taboo” of Bethel. The occurrence of
Herem as an independent deity, especially in personal names, has always
been a challenge to this interpretation. Papyrus Amherst 63 now sheds new
light on the god. The compilation contains a song in which a lover and a
group of bridesmaids alternately turn to Nanay and invite her to abandon
her coyness. The name of the lover turns out to be “Herem-Bethel.”
Nanay, you be my wife!
The song does not go into detail about the profile of Herem-Bethel, but
it is clear that the traditional interpretation “sanctuary of Bethel” or “sacred
substance of Bethel” does not fit. Herem-Bethel is a lover. He is the “chosen
lad” who brings the goddess a serenade to the sound of the harp and the
lyre. In view of the evidence of the personal names that refer to Herem as
an independent deity, we must seek to interpret his name without reference
to Bethel. The god is a protagonist in what is traditionally referred to as the
sacred marriage (after the Greek hieros gamos). In fact, the opening line of
this love lyric—“Nanay, you be my wife!”—is a traditional phrase in the
formal celebration of marriage in Babylonia. In Mesopotamia, the sacred
marriage ritual had a variety of local traditions involving different deities.
But the most famous pair of lovers was Ishtar and Dumuzi. In the context
of the ritual, Dumuzi bore the title harmu, “lover,” the masculine form of
˘
harimtu, “lady lover, courtesan.” Ishtar is the patroness of harimtus and
˘ ˘
refers to herself as a “loving harimtu.” Since Nanay is an alter ego of
˘
Ishtar, it is quite fitting that she is referred to as a courtesan in the Amherst
papyrus as well. Her male partner is Herem, whose name must go back
to Dumuzi’s title harmu. Herem is “the lover.” His name is etymologically
˘
related to the root h.rm, “sacred, taboo,” but it developed a very specific
meaning. Since the name is a title, “Herem” could refer to various deities.
Tammuz and Hadad are the most obvious candidates. In the Amherst
papyrus, it is Bethel who plays the role of divine lover. “Herem-Bethel” may
be paraphrased as “Bethel-in-his-capacity-as-divine-lover.”
Since the title “Herem” is specific to a god in his role as youthful lover,
the coupling of Herem and Anat-Yaho in an oath text from the late fifth
century BCE may carry a meaning that goes beyond an occasional asso-
ciation. For the full reference, I follow the reading proposed by Bezalel
Porten and Ada Yardeni. One Jew will swear to the other “by He[rem] the
[god] in the sanctuary and by Anat-Yaho.” The word for “sanctuary” is
literally a “place of prostration, place of worship.” Technically it might
be a reference to the Yaho temple at Elephantine. Normally, however, the
Elephantine temple is called “the house of Yaho” or “the temple,” so it is
quite possible that the word refers here to a separate chapel, either within or
outside of the Yaho temple. The oath by Herem (or Herem-Bethel) was ex-
ceptional; a Jew would normally swear by Yaho. The choice of Herem may
have been due to the fact that there was no Yaho image or symbol available
at the time. The alternative was to take an oath by Herem and Anat-Yaho,
gods whose images had been left unharmed during the outburst of violence
in 410 BCE. They were a couple with their own chapel. If Herem was the
god in his role as a lover, Anat-Yaho must have been the mistress. At Ele-
phantine, the sacred marriage was not some exotic ritual only practiced by
others. The Jews of the island honored the tradition too.
goddess. According to later tradition, the goddess owed her title to her as-
sociation with the Venus star. An early Jewish translation of the book of
Jeremiah into Aramaic renders the Hebrew “Queen of Heaven” as “the Star
of Heaven,” meaning the Venus star. Pursuant to this identification, it is
often assumed that the cakes made “in her likeness” (literally, “to represent
her”) were in the shape of the eight-pointed star well known as the symbol
of Venus.
The ritual songs collected in Papyrus Amherst 63 favor the interpreta-
tion of the Queen of Heaven as the Venus star. There is only one direct
reference to Anat in the papyrus. The goddess is mentioned in a context
that reveals nothing of her profile. The Syrian section of the papyrus cel-
ebrates the marriage of Bethel and his partner, but the name “Anat” does
not occur. The goddess is called “the Beautiful One” (šapirāʾ), “the Bride”
(kallāʾ), “the Perfect One” (šalmāʾ), “the Spouse” (h.êrtāʾ), and “the Queen”
(malkāʾ). The focus is entirely on the rise of the goddess and the god, she
as the evening star, he as the lunar crescent. Their marriage is figured in the
evening sky. The title Queen of Heaven is implicit at best. The goddess is
“the Queen,” and she is to rise in heaven, but she does not go by the name
“Queen of Heaven.” In fact, the only time the Amherst papyrus uses the ti-
tle “Queen of Heaven” is in connection with Nanay. The Babylonian section
describes her elevation to sovereignty as the result of her marriage to Nabu.
All the gods of heaven rise from their thrones as she makes her entry in
the evening skies. She is the Queen of Heaven. In the Amherst papyrus,
there is no clear difference between the profiles of Nanay and Anat. Nanay
is “the maiden” (rh.mʾ) and the royal wet-nurse, in much the same way as
Anat is “the maiden” (rh.m) and the royal wet-nurse in Ugaritic texts. The
compilation emphasizes their celestial manifestation and pays little atten-
tion to the warrior traits both goddesses have. Their roles in the ritual
songs are so similar that the sacred marriage between Herem-Bethel and
Nanay is hardly unnatural. Normally, Bethel’s sexual mate would be Anat.
His union with Nanay could be taken to symbolize the close collaboration
between Arameans from Syria and Arameans from Babylonia. It should
be noted that the sacred marriage of Herem-Bethel and Nanay is also a
heavenly union. The god makes her lie down “on embroidered sheets in his
heavens.” What actually happened down below is a matter of specula-
tion. But the real event took place above.
Given the general likeness between Nanay and Anat in the Amherst
papyrus, it is to be expected that the goddess Anat who was venerated in
Conclusion
Among the Judeans who ended up in Babylonia during the first quarter
of the sixth century BCE, there were some who cultivated memories of
Jerusalem in its glory days. No more songs of Zion for them. “If I forget
you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand whither” (Ps 137:5). The nostalgia for
their homeland led them to call one of the towns where they settled Al-
Yahudu, “Judah-town,” after a name used in Babylonian sources for Jeru-
salem. There is no evidence, in either the ostraca or the papyri, to sug-
gest that the Jews of Elephantine thought along similar lines. To them, the
Elephantine temple was not a substitute for the temple in Jerusalem. They
were Jews abroad who simply practiced their religion, itself a mix of Jewish
and Aramean elements. Were they Jews in the diaspora? That’s how they
have come to be defined, but it is doubtful whether they themselves would
initially have shared the view. Their diaspora was one without nostalgia. The
temple they had built for their god was in timber and stone, surrounded by
an imposing wall, as though it would stand forever. It was not a temporary
shelter. They were there to stay. The Babylonian Jews may have dreamt of a
return to Zion, but the ones at Elephantine did not.
How did the Samarians of Palmyra become the Jews of Elephantine? The
final chapter of this book will seek to solve the mysterious transformation
of Samarian Arameans into Jews. In the light of Papyrus Amherst 63, it is
clear that the core of the Elephantine community consisted of people of
Samarian extraction. This new information confirms the earlier intuition of
several scholars that many of the Elephantine Jews came in fact from Sa-
maria. These Samarians may have thought of themselves as Arameans due
to their integration into the Aramaic-speaking society of Palmyra, where
they had lived for several generations. When they migrated to Egypt, they
were presumably aware of their double heritage. They were both Aramean
and Samarian. But it is unlikely that they thought of themselves as Jews.
So what happened that eventually made them embrace a Jewish identity as
their defining one?
The earliest written record of the Elephantine Jews is from the very
beginning of the fifth century BCE. From that point on, the stream of
short messages and other more extended texts begins to flow, with a con-
centration of papyri from the final decades of the fifth century. There is
nothing from the sixth century. Yet the Jews must have been there already.
By their own witness, the temple of Yaho had been built before 525, the
year that Cambyses II conquered Egypt and turned it into a Persian ter-
ritory. The absence of written evidence of their presence should not be
taken as evidence of their absence. They were there, but due to the fortuities
of the archaeological record, the sixth century is a century of silence. This
should be cause for caution in writing the story of the Elephantine Jews.
When a century lies more than two millennia behind us, it may seem like
115
to get rid of its reference to ethnicity. In light of the new evidence provided
by Papyrus Amherst 63, it is clear that we have been asking the wrong ques-
tion. The fact that Samarians thought of themselves as Arameans was only
natural given their century-long participation in an Aramean society. The
real question is why they should identify themselves as Jews.
The decision to translate yĕhûdāyēʾ as “Jews” rather than “Judeans” was
the subject of a few observations in the Preface and a longer discussion in
Chapter 1. There is no need to reiterate the argument. It is important to
bear in mind, though, that for the diaspora Jews in Egypt there was no dif-
ference between Judeans and Jews. The words go back to the same Aramaic
term. That term is, in origin, a reference to a territory: the kingdom, and
later the province, of Judah. From the way it is used in the Elephantine doc-
uments, it is clear that the Aramaic term has extended its meaning beyond
that of “those born or living in Judah.” The Samarians are included in the
term. This inclusive use of the term—inclusive of people from Samaria—is
an instance of the more general phenomenon wherein a specific territorial
name is given an extended meaning. All citizens of the Roman Empire are
Romans, even if they are not from the city of Rome. Persians derive their
name from Fars, which is actually just a province in the country. The Turk-
ish name for a Moroccan is Faslı, literally someone from Fès.
The earliest references to a Jewish identity of the Elephantine commu-
nity are collective. They occur in the ostraca and date from the first quarter
of the fifth century BCE. The short messages mention “the Jews” four times.
Two of the occurrences are not very illuminating. One potsherd gives the
names of a handful of men, presented as “the Jews who received wages.”
In view of their names and the fact that regular members of the colony did
not receive wages, the reference may be to the community’s leadership. The
second fragment seems to belong to a list with a similar scope. The third
ostracon mentions a Caspian who is uttering words against “the Jews” (the
term occurs twice). This is an example of Jewish ethnic identity used to
delineate one group from the other. It can hardly be a coincidence that the
ostraca contain only references to Jews in the plural.
A perusal of the Elephantine papyri shows that their earliest refer-
ence to Jewish ethnicity is from 464 BCE. The text in question registers
the formal ownership of a piece of land. It is the outcome of a process
involving a Jew and a Horesmian, arbitrated by the judges in Syene. As
Chapter 2 has argued, the reference to Jewish ethnicity may have been trig-
gered by the desire to claim membership in a group that differed from the
an area that could not expand. While Samarians were perhaps still the
majority, the community came to include a Judean component. Much of
its culture continued to be Aramean, but in terms of geographical origins,
the community was increasingly diverse. Some migrants had their roots in
Samaria, others in Judah. The sources contain no trace of tension between
the two groups, unless one interprets the references to the leaders as “Jews”
in this sense. In the search for a common identity, they settled on the terms
“Aramean” and “Jewish.”
Another factor that contributed to the emergence of a Jewish iden-
tity for the Elephantine community as a whole was relations between the
various Jewish diaspora communities in Egypt. Elephantine was part of a
network. There were Jews at Elephantine, but also at Migdol, Tahpanhes,
Memphis, Abydos, Thebes, and Edfu. Between the various nodes of the
Jewish diaspora in Egypt, communication and movement of persons was
frequent, more so than with Judah or Samaria. The Jewish communities in
Egypt felt connected most of all to one another. Their encounters favored
the emergence of a sense of community that looked at a common identity
beyond the differences of geographical background. This phenomenon has
analogies in modern diasporas. Gandhi was from Gujarat and grew up as a
Gujarati. He developed his sense of Indian identity outside his homeland
in the Indian diaspora in London and South Africa. By good fortune, the
ruin hill on the south side of Elephantine has yielded a text documenting
an instance of the contacts between Jews from the delta and those in the
deep south. It is a letter sent by a Jewish man from Migdol to his son on a
mission to Elephantine: “[Greetings] to the [H]ouse of Yaho in Elephan-
tine. To my son Shelomam, [fr]om your brother Osea. [I send you greet-
ings] of welfare and strength. [Now then,] from the day you went on that
journey, I have not been happy. The same goes for your mother. Now then,
may you be blessed [by Yaho the God, that he may sh]ow me your face in
peace. ( . . . ) Now then, how is the family? And how was your trip? Yaho
[the God willing you are] well and there is no injury. Be a man! ( . . . ). To
my brother Shelomam son of Osea, your brother Osea ( . . . ).”
Many observations could be made about this letter. In the present con-
nection, however, its significance resides in the fact that it documents the
contacts between the different diaspora communities in Egypt. The son had
traveled all the way from Migdol to Elephantine, a journey of more than
one thousand kilometers, the two towns being at opposite ends of Egypt.
Following in the footsteps of his father, he served as a soldier and was now
The real significance of Hananyah’s letter does not reside in his in-
structions about the festival calendar but in the lines that introduce them.
Hananyah has a peculiar way of addressing his readers. They are his “broth-
ers”—not brothers in arms, as in Osea’s letter, but brothers because they be-
long to one people: “To my brothers Yedanyah and his colleagues the Jew-
ish garrison, your brother Hananyah.” This is the first occurrence of the
expression “the Jewish garrison.” In an important study from 2002, Ingo
Kottsieper argues that the use of this expression reflects the official recogni-
tion on the part of the Persian authorities of the Jews as a nation. Since
the Jews were in fact serving in the Syenian garrison—for which reason the
leadership of the community referred to itself in 407 BCE as “Syenians”—it
is questionable whether the term h.aylāʾ, literally “the force,” is to be taken
in the narrow, technical sense of “garrison.” The more likely interpretation
assigns to the term the wider meaning of “community.” Irrespective of
the precise translation of the term h.aylāʾ, however, the highlighting of the
Elephantine community’s Jewish identity is unmistakable. They are broth-
ers—members of one ethnoreligious community living throughout the
Persian Empire, from Babylonia to Egypt. Hananyah’s salutation reflects a
self-conscious Jewish identity.
The second element of significance is the reference to a Persian decree:
“And now, this very year, year 5 of King Darius, it has been sent to Arsames
[as follows: . . . ].” Before Hananyah gives instructions about Matzoth,
then, he quotes the text of an official decree of Darius II. Its contents can
only be guessed at. There is room in the gap for five to seven words. Because
the decree is quoted to legitimize and lend authority to the instructions
about Matzoth, it must have been about the Jews and their right to prac-
tice their religion—something along the lines of “Let the Jews observe the
rites of their religion.” Hananyah’s letter is evidence about a change in the
Persian policy toward the Jews. The decree that he quotes implies official
recognition of the Jews as an ethnic group with its own religious practice.
In the scholarly discussion of the Passover Papyrus, the Darius decree
is frequently called a firman, a word that commentators also use in connec-
tion with the Artaxerxes decree that legitimized the mission of Ezra (Ezra
7:12–26). The term firman suggests a parallel between the Persian policy
toward the various ethnic groups in their empire and the millet system
practiced in the Ottoman Empire. Firman is a Persian term and refers to a
written order issued by the sovereign. Applied to the decrees of the ancient
Persian kings, however, the word is an anachronism, since it makes its first
of 410 BCE. As the summer heat was at its peak, the Egyptians of the
island attacked the temple of Yaho. They entered by force, took everything
of value, destroyed the rest, and burned the building to the ground. The
Jews were left with the smoldering ruins of what had once been the heart
of their community. To them, it was an act of wanton violence inspired
by anti-Jewish sentiments. In the public perception, this “anti-Jewish out-
burst” has come to determine the meaning of the Elephantine experience.
In the end, this is what it means to be Jewish: no matter how hard you try
to be on good terms with your neighbors, no matter how faithful you are
in your duties, for some reason you will always end up on the wrong side
of history. The demolition of the Jewish temple has thus become a symbol
for and a premonition of what was in store for later generations of diaspora
communities. It is the story of the Jews in a nutshell.
This perception of the temple destruction as an act of religious violence
is not based on a critical analysis of the event and its historical context but
is a consequence of the way in which the leadership of the Jewish com-
munity framed the story. Three years after the event, they wrote to the
governor of Judah. Their purpose in writing was to solicit his support in
obtaining a building permit for a new temple. In order to present their case
in the most favorable light, they chose to highlight the religious aspects
of the conflict. At the time, the leader of the Elephantine community was
Yedanyah. He came from a family that had been in power for more than a
century. Writing to the Judean leadership, he calls himself a priest (khn).
Speaking on behalf of his “colleagues the priests and the Jews,” he gives a
strongly biased report of the events of 410 BCE:
In the month of Tammuz, year 14 of King Darius (II), when Arsames had
departed and gone to the king—at that time the priests of Khnub, the god
who is in Elephantine the fortress, gave silver and valuables to Vidranga,
the governor over here, saying, “Let them remove from there the temple of
Yaho, the god who is in Elephantine the fortress.” Then this Vidranga, the
wicked, sent a message to Naphaina his son, who was the garrison com-
mander of Syene the fortress, saying, “Let them demolish the temple of
Yaho, the god who is in Elephantine the fortress.” Then this Naphaina led
the Egyptians and the other troops. They came to the fortress of Elephan-
tine with their weapons, broke into that temple, razed it to the ground, and
smashed the stone pillars that were there. In addition, they destroyed five
great gateways, built of hewn stone, which were in that temple. And their
standing doors, plus the bronze fittings of those doors, and the roof of the
temple, all of it cedarwood, along with the rest of the furniture and the other
things that were there—all of it they burned with fire. But the gold and sil-
ver basins and other things that were in that temple—all of these they took
and made their own.
Now, during the days of the kings of Egypt, our fathers had built that
temple in Elephantine the fortress. And when Cambyses (II) entered Egypt
he found that temple built. And while they overthrew the temples of the
gods of the Egyptians, all of them, they did no damage to anything in that
temple.
And as this had happened, we with our wives and children were wear-
ing sackcloth, fasting and praying to Yaho, the Lord of Heaven, who let us
gloat over this Vidranga. The dogs removed his fetters from his feet, and all
the goods he had acquired were lost. And everyone who sought evil for that
temple, all of them were killed, and we gazed upon them.
The long quotation is from the second draft of the letter. Two scribes
were involved in the composition of the text. Two scribes, two drafts—
clearly the Jews were keen to use the right words and strike the proper
chord. Yedanyah presents the temple demolition as the outcome of a con-
flict that opposed one group of priests against another. The instigators of
the violence were the priests of Khnum (“Khnub” is a variant of the Egyp-
tian god’s name). They bribed the provincial governor. The Persian offi-
cial collaborated and ordered the commander of the Syenian garrison to
demolish the Jewish temple. A good deal of the message is a description
of the rage of the Egyptians against what must have been a monumental
building. In the second half of the letter, Yedanyah emphasizes the impact
of the catastrophe. The Jews are still in a state of shock:
Also, since the month of Tammuz, year 14 of King Darius, and until this day,
we have been wearing sackcloth and have been fasting. Our wives have be-
come like widows. We do not anoint ourselves with oil and we do not drink
wine. Also, from that time until today, year 17 of King Darius, they have not
made vegetal offering, incense, or holocaust in that temple.
All the grief is about the temple. No fine clothes, no fancy food, no sex,
no ointments, no alcohol. The fast that the Jews claim to be keeping is not
total, or else they would not be alive. They keep a vegetarian diet, since
meat consumption became taboo after the cessation of holocaust offerings
in the temple. The message that the Jews of Elephantine want to get across
is that their life is in tatters. Without the temple the community is com-
ing apart. They have given up on the things that make life enjoyable—as
though the traditional counsel of “carpe diem,” which rings from the Gil-
gamesh Epic up till the book of Ecclesiastes, has become an abomination.
Mourning after a calamity is normal, but three years of communal mourn-
ing seems unusual.
Yedanyah was playing the Jewish card. Another petition with the same
message was being sent to Samaria. In response to these petitions, the
authorities of Judah and Samaria jointly endorsed the new temple project.
Yedanyah, then, was not playing the Judean but the Jewish card. The com-
munity he represented consisted of pious Jews whose devotion to Yaho was
evident from the selfless fast they were keeping. Their life was all about the
temple of Yaho. This thoroughly religious community had become victim to
the hatred of the priests of a different god. Whereas the Jewish community
had always enjoyed the protection of the Persians, its Egyptian opponents
had turned to bribery in order to get the local Persian administrators to
condone their plan. Normally, the Persians would have been above such
despicable practices, but these were not normal times because the Persian
satrap had left Egypt. The Jews were unprotected. But they had God on
their side. Their fasting and praying had not been in vain. In the end they
had witnessed the terrible fate of the corrupt Persian governor and all those
who had plotted evil against the temple. It did not mean the end of their
grief. For the Jews, the matter would not be over until their god had a
new temple.
By presenting the Jews as the victims of a religious conflict, Yedanyah
and his colleagues were asserting their Jewish identity. In the early fifth
century BCE, the mixed community of Elephantine had come to define
itself collectively as Jewish. Shortly after 420, the Persian authorities had
confirmed this Jewish ethnicity by the imposition of a uniform ritual cal-
endar. In 407, the leadership of the community claimed Jewish identity as a
means to win sympathy for their cause. The petitions to Judah and Samaria
marked what for the Elephantine community would be the end of an evo-
lution. Henceforth, they would be remembered as the Elephantine Jews.
The way they described the events of 410 suggests that their religion was
the cause of all the trouble, as though the enmity of the Egyptians proved
how thoroughly Jewish they were. In fact, Jewish identity was a choice. It
was part of a strategy to come to terms with the recent past. But as Ernest
Renan has said, becoming a nation takes a lot of forgetting. The same
is true of Jewish identity at Elephantine; becoming Jewish took a lot of
forgetting. The Jews chose to forget not only their Samarian background
but also some of the more uncomfortable aspects of their more recent his-
tory. Like most of us, they had a very selective memory. It is the duty of the
historian to show the other side of the story. As a closer look at the previous
episodes shows, the outburst of violence of 410 had been in the making for
some time. The conflict had little to do with religion.
Previously at Elephantine
Less than a year before the temple demolition, another conflict had
pitted Egyptians against Jews. The cause of their clash was a precious stone.
Jewish traders were trafficking the piece, expecting to make a good profit
from its sale. As it turned out, the stone had been stolen from the Egyptian
community. After the boat with the traders’ cargo had left Elephantine
harbor, the Egyptians of the island discovered the theft and notified the au-
thorities. They suspected the Jews of robbery or receiving stolen goods. The
conflict was initially dealt with by the garrison commander at Syene. He
went after the shipment and made sure the cargo did not reach its destina-
tion. But the matter was too big to remain local. The Persian authorities in
Memphis were informed and started an investigation. From that moment
on, matters went from bad to worse.
The conflict over the precious stone involved three parties: the Ele-
phantine Jews as suspects, the local Egyptians as accusers, and the Persian
authorities as arbitrators. Although the entire community was under suspi-
cion, three Jewish parties played a more prominent role in the matter. One
was a business consortium operating out of Elephantine Island, consisting
of women from influential families, many of whom were related to men in
positions of leadership or responsibility for the temple. The Jewish second
party was a man called Hosea son of Natan. During the years 411–410, Ho-
sea was stationed in Memphis as representative and commercial agent of
the Jewish business consortium. He was from Elephantine and would later
return to the island. As a consequence of the alleged theft, Hosea found
himself caught up in a very unpleasant situation and eventually ended up
in jail for failure to pay a fine. The leadership of the Jewish community was
the third party to play a role. Some of them were closely connected with
the business consortium. In fact, it is not perfectly clear where to draw the
line between private and public here. It is possible that the consortium was
actually working for the temple. That would explain why the secretary of
the presidium came with the traders on their journey to Memphis. When
matters escalated, the leadership of the community—including its presi-
dent, Yedanyah—felt it necessary to go to the Persian authorities in person
in order to plead the cause of the Jews.
The nature of the object that triggered the conflict is not entirely clear.
The secretary of the Jewish community refers to it as “one ʾbns.rp.” In their
discussion of the term, Jacob Hoftijzer and Karel Jongeling conclude that
it probably indicates some kind of precious stone. Most specialists agree.
The word ʾeben means “stone,” and it is clear the item was precious. The
exact meaning of .srp, however, has not been established. It might be con-
nected to the Assyrian word .sarpu, “silver,” itself a derivative of the verb
.sarāpu, “to refine.” Could the word refer to a precious stone set in silver?
Irrespective of the actual shape and composition of the object, it must have
been an expensive piece of jewelry. A letter by Hosea son of Natan to one
of his employers in Elephantine implies that he had received orders to sell
the precious object for gold. In the fall of 411, a commercial transport was
carrying the stone to Memphis when the Persian authorities stopped the
traders halfway, in Abydos. The secretary of the Jewish community—a man
named Mauzyah—reported the event in a letter to the leadership.
To my lords Yedanyah, Uriyah and the priests of Yaho the god, Mattan
son of Yashobyah, Berekyah son of [PN]. (From) your servant Mauzyah.
[May the God of Heaven seek after] the welfare of my lords [very much at
all times; and] may you be in favor before the God of Heaven. Now then,
when Vidranga, the garrison commander, arrived in Abydos he arrested me
on account of a precious stone, one, which they found stolen in the hands
of the traders. Afterwards, Zeha and Hor, the servants of Anani, pleaded
with Vidranga and Hornufi, with the help of the God of Heaven, until
they set me free. And now, behold, they are coming there to you. You must
look after them. Anything or any action that Zeha and Hor might ask from
you—you must be at their disposition, so that they will not find anything
reprehensible about you. You know that Khnum has been against us from
the time Hananyah came to Egypt until now. Now whatever you will do for
Hor, you will be doing for the ch[ancell]or (lb[ʿl t.]ʿm). Hor is an assistant of
Hananyah (error for Anani?). You must bring out from our houses our pos-
sessions. Give him whatever your hand finds. This shall not be a loss for you.
That is why I am sending you (this message). He said to me, “Send a written
order ahead of me (saying:) ‘[Bri]ng out! For a serious loss there is back-up
in the house of Anani.’” The way you will deal with him will not be hidden
from Anani. [Address:] To my lords Yedanyah, Uriyah and the priests, and
the Jews. (From) your servant Mauzyah son of Natan.
The secretary’s letter leaves out some elements of the story because
the people he reported to had no need to be told what they already knew.
Nevertheless, the contours of the affair are clear enough. The Egyptians of
Elephantine had gone to the Persian authorities to report a case of theft.
Apparently they had reason to suspect that Jewish traders had smuggled the
wares out of the island because Vidranga—then still garrison commander
but promoted to provincial governor the following year—came after the
commercial convoy. He stopped it at Abydos, did a search, and found one
precious stone “in the hands of the traders.” It proved that the Egyptians
had been right. But the case was not yet closed. The secretary specifically
mentions “a precious stone, one,” thereby suggesting that there were more
of them. The rest of the letter shows that other objects were still miss-
ing. To put pressure on the Jews, the garrison commander imprisoned the
community’s secretary. In the meantime, news of the accusation against the
Jews had reached Memphis. The central authorities decided that the matter
was too important to be left to the discretion of the local garrison com-
mander. Anani sent two officials to conduct an investigation. This Anani
was the Jewish chancellor of the Persian satrap in Memphis. He was an
influential man. His officials persuaded Vidranga to release the secretary.
Since they were on their way to Elephantine to do a house search in the
Jewish quarter, the secretary sent a letter of recommendation that urged the
community’s leadership to fully cooperate.
The affair of the stolen stone developed in an atmosphere that had
been going awry for some time: “Khnum has been against us from the
time Hananyah came to Egypt until now.” Looking back, the mission of
Hananyah in 419 BCE had been the beginning of soured relations with
the Egyptians. Because the instructions of Hananyah were about the ritual
calendar, it is possible to argue that the Egyptians took offense at the new
religious practices of their Jewish neighbors. “Hananiah’s mission probably
served to antagonize the Khnum priests . . . simply because it emphasized
strict observance of a seven day festival which commemorated the Exodus
from Egypt and the victory of the Israelites over the Egyptians,” Bezalel
Porten writes in Archives from Elephantine. This interpretation turns the
conflict again into a religious one. According to the ostraca, however, the
Jews of Elephantine had been celebrating Pesach all through the fifth cen-
tury BCE—so why should it now all of a sudden upset the Egyptians? It
is hardly more convincing to suggest that the sacrifice of a Pesach lamb
offended the worshippers of Khnum. Jews and Egyptians had been living
side by side for more than a century. Each group had celebrated its own rit-
uals without offending the religious sensibilities of the other. The real sig-
nificance of Hananyah’s mission resided in the Persian decree that served
as its legitimation. The Persian authorities had established that the Jews
of their empire constituted a separate people entitled to live by their own
religious code. It was this new status of the Jews that made the Egyptians
uneasy. The Jews seemed to receive preferential treatment. They enjoyed
state protection. In one report about the events of the summer of 410, the
Jews imply that the Egyptian violence was triggered by the growth of the
Jewish community: “[When] ( . . . ) we grew, the battalions of the Egyptians
rebelled.” It may just have been a matter of perception, but the Egyptians
had a sense that they were being pushed aside on their own island. Re-
ligion had very little to do with this. These were two communities at odds
because one felt threatened by the other.
In this climate of tension, the affair of the stolen stone could assume
proportions well-beyond anything warranted by the material value of the
object—or, more likely, the objects in the plural. The matter got out of
hand. Two letters to the agent of the Elephantine business consortium at
Memphis give a sense of increasing nervousness on the Jewish side. Hosea
wrote the first letter in response to letters that he had received from the
Jewish leadership in January 410 BCE. His answer must have been prompt:
To my lords Yedanyah, Mauzyah, Uriyah, and the garrison. (From) your
servan[t Hosea son of Natan. May all the gods] seek after [the well-being of
my lords] at all times. All is well for us here. And now, every day that [they
are investigating, PN] has been complaining to our investigator, a certain
Zivaka. And he complained to an[other] investigator. [So far all blame in
the matter] lies with us because the Egyptians are giving them bribes. And
since [the investigation began, the agents] of the Egyptians [have been ac-
cusing us] before Arsames, but they are acting like thieves. Also [there is a
new administrator] of the province of Thebes. And they are saying, “A Maz-
dean is the provincial administrator. [He is responsible for the rest of the
investigation.”] We are afraid because we are (now) smaller (in number) by
two. And now, behold, they are favoring [the Egyptians ever since Arsames
left Egypt.] If only we had shown ourselves to Arsames before, then it
would not have been like this [for us. Now no one, neither we nor anyone
else,] will plead our cause before Arsames. Pisina is reassuring us [saying a
few gifts might change our situation. Now, whatever] you can find—honey,
castor oil, strings, ropes, tanned skins, boards—[do send it as gifts to us here
because] they are full of anger against you. ( . . . ) Tiri[. .] gave orders [to
arrest Zeha and Hori] by order of the King. And they are detaining them.
And the indemnification for Arsames and the ransom for Zeha [and Hori, I
shall pay it—both the indemnification and the ransom for Zeha] and Hori
whom they put in detention. The sixth of the month Paopi (ca. January 20)
the letters arrived [here. Do not worry about anything.] We will take care of
the matter. [Address:] To my lords Yedanyah, Mauzyah. (From) your [ser-
vant Hosea son of Natan.]
“All is well for us here.” In light of what follows, this rings hollow.
Nothing was well. In fact, the Egyptians had the ear of the authorities, and
the Jews had lost sympathy. Hosea blamed it on the Egyptians, who were
shamelessly distributing bribes. He urged the leaders of the Elephantine
community to send counterbribes. Would this bring about a reversal of the
situation? It was questionable. The letter hints at a deeper cause for worry.
Due to the damaged state of the papyrus we literally have to read between
the lines, but the message seems clear. The Persian satrap Arsames had left
the country. Arsames was not in Egypt when the Yaho temple was attacked
in the summer of 410. His absence from Egypt put the Jews at a disadvan-
tage, since he had traditionally been sympathetic to the Jewish cause. Such
is also the meaning of Hosea’s complaint, “If only we had shown ourselves to
Arsames before”—meaning, before he left the country—“then it would not
have been like this.” Arsames must have left Egypt in early 410. His depar-
ture brought about a reshuffling of the local Persian administration. One
significant change was the promotion of Vidranga to the post of governor
of the southern province. He was the “Mazdean” recently appointed chief
of the “province of Thebes,” another name for the province of Tshetres.
The absence of Arsames and the changes in the Persian administration were
a major setback for the Jews. The fact that Zeha and Hori, back in Memphis
from their mission in Elephantine, have been put in fetters was an omen.
Anani, the Jewish chancellor of Arsames, had apparently lost his influence.
In mid-May 410, Hosea wrote another letter, this one addressed to
someone whose name does not occur elsewhere in the papyri, Haggus son
of Hodo:
[To my brother Hagg]us. (From) your brother H[os]ea. I send you many
(wishes of ) well-being and strength. [And now, . . . . We went to Pi]sina the
judge and we paid him cash (lit. “in his hand”) ten karsh of silver, plus one
karsh [in addition. But he requested another five karsh. The money was not]
in my hand [so] that I find myself de[tained fo]r five karsh of silver. And
now, [take this letter] with you, that you might be given five karsh of silver.
And write them a debt acknowledgement for it. And if [they] don’t [lend]
all the silver against interest, and if they don’t give it to you, saying “Give a
security,” sell the house of Zakkur and the house of Ashan. And if they don’t
buy them, look for a man who will buy the big house of Hodo and sell it to
him for the price that it will go for. And when this letter reaches you, do not
delay, come down to Memphis at once. If you find the money come down at
once, and if you don’t find any, come down at once. ( . . . ) Now if you come
down to Memphis alone, do not leave Ashan [without suppl]ies. Give him
grain so that you [do] not [sin.] When the Jews bring them in before [ . . . ]
. . . I have been abandoned [ . . . ] their words. Do not delay. Come down at
once, and bring down with you at once for me one tunic for [ . . . ] to bring to
me. Written on the 27th of Tybi (ca. May 10). [(Address:) To my] bro[ther]
Haggus son of Hodo. (From) your brother H[osea son of Natan].
were presumably family. If so, they must have been in-laws, the one having
married the sister of the other.
Toward the end of the letter, Hosea mentions “the Jews.” It is an in-
triguing phrase in view of the fact that both he and his correspondent were
Jews too. The reference is most likely to the leadership of the Elephantine
community. From the use of the verb “to bring up,” it would appear that
the Jews were on their way to Memphis. The purpose of the leadership was
most likely a personal intervention with the Persian authorities to put an
end to a conflict that had been dragging on for far too long. The leaders of
the Elephantine community never reached Memphis, however. According
to an undated report by Yislah son of Natan, the delegation was appre-
hended in Thebes. They were now in prison:
[To my brother Yislah son of Gaddul, your brother Yislah son of Natan. It
is well with me here.] May the gods seek after your well-being at all times.
And now, [. . . . . . . . . P]N son of P[N] went to Syene. And he did [ . . . ] to
the Jew[s][ . . . . . . . . And these are the names of the men th]at have been
taken prisoner in Elephantine:
Berekyah,
Hosea,
[PN son of PN]
[PN son of PN]
[PN son of ] Pa-Khnum.
And these are the names of the women who were appre[hended in the gate
in Thebes, and who were taken p]risoner:
Rami wife of Hodo
Isireshwet wife of Hosea
Pallul wife of Yislah
Raiya [wife of PN]
Tabla daughter of Meshullam,
Qaw(i)la her sister.
Here are the names of the men who were apprehended in the gate in Thebes
and who were taken [prisoner:]
Yedanyah son of Gemaryah
Hosea son of Yatom
Hosea son of Nattum (error for Nattun)
Haggai his brother
Ahyo the son of Mikayah.
[The investigators have left] the houses that they had entered in Elephan-
tine. And the possessions that they confiscated, they shall certainly return to
their owners. However, they fined their owners (an amount of ) 120 karsh of
silver. Hopefully there will not be another decree for them here. Greetings
to your house(hold) and to your children until the gods show me [your face
in peace.] [Address:] To my brother Yislah son] of Gaddul, your brother
Yislah son of Natan.
The report lists the names of the Jews who had been arrested. These
arrests occurred in connection with what is best described as a second in-
vestigation into the matter of the stolen stone. This time, the Persians did
not leave the matter to Egyptian officials. The name of the man who went
to Syene is in the lacuna of the text. Several reconstructions are possible,
but none of them is certain. The Persian investigators entered the houses of
the Jews and confiscated their possessions. The inhabitants were temporar-
ily evicted. By the time Yislah wrote his report, the investigators had left
the houses, and the confiscated goods would be returned to their owners.
But in the course of the proceedings, several men and women had been ar-
rested. Yislah distinguishes three groups: men who were taken prisoner in
Elephantine; women who were apprehended “in the gate in Thebes”; and
men who were apprehended “in the gate in Thebes.” The reference to the
gate in Thebes—point of entry, point of exit—suggests that Yislah wrote
from Thebes, seat of the governor of the southern province.
Most of the names of the men arrested in Elephantine are lost due to
gaps in the papyrus. The names of the women and the men apprehended
in Thebes, on the other hand, are nearly completely preserved. Among the
men there are some familiar figures. Yedanyah son of Gemaryah was the
leader of the Elephantine community. Two of the other men were signa-
tories, along with Yedanyah, of a letter offering a huge sum of money in
return for a building permit. They belonged to the leading families of the
community. The women are harder to identity. Since they were not married
to the men that have been captured, the most plausible explanation for their
presence is to assume they represented the business consortium. Yislah
simply reports their arrests. Even though he does not mention any motive,
it seems obvious. Detention of influential members of the Jewish com-
munity was a way to coerce it into collaborating with the authorities and,
here more specifically, to pay the fine that had been imposed. The Persians
had condemned the community to a payment of 120 karsh, the equivalent
of 1,200 shekels. It is a substantial sum. The special tax for all families of the
Jewish community in 400 BCE netted a total of 318 shekels. When Hosea
son of Natan was in urgent need of 50 shekels, he thought that two regular
dated to the same year as the petition to Jerusalem, that is, 407. The simi-
larities of phraseology lead to the same conclusion. These were the same
scribes, searching for the best formulation of petitions dispatched around
the same time to Memphis, to Judah, and to Samaria. The petition to
Bagohi mentions earlier letters sent to him, to the Jerusalem priests, and to
the Judean nobles. We have no record of those letters and no knowledge
of their dates. But it is no coincidence that the two petitions whose drafts
have been preserved are both from 407. The reason the community waited
for more than three years to start a campaign for the reconstruction of its
temple was related to the absence of Arsames. It made no sense to try to
obtain a building permit as long as Arsames was away. In his absence, oth-
ers were in power. The new rulers—temporary, as it would turn out—had
proven to be unsympathetic to the Jewish cause.
The draft of the petition to Arsames has suffered serious damage. Some
lines have gone missing, other lines are only partially preserved. The scribe
used the strip of papyrus as a piece of scrap paper to write down a rough
draft, writing in different directions, and sometimes repeating a line or
two. The significance of the text is such, however, that it warrants a full
quotation:
[ . . . ] . . . we grew in number, the battalions of the Egyptians revolted. We
did not abandon our posts and nothing bad was found in us.
In the year 14 of King Darius, when our lord Arsames had gone to the
king, this is the crime which the priests of Khnub the god [di]d in Elephan-
tine the fortress, in league with Vidranga the governor over here. They gave
him silver and valuables. There is a part of the royal grain-house which is in
Elephantine the fortress—they demolished it and built a wall in the middle
of the fortress of Elephantine. [ . . . ] And now, that wall is built right in
the middle of the fortress. There is a well that is built within the fortress. It
was not lacking in water to satiate the garrison. Whenever they would be
garrisoned here, they would drink the water from that well. Those priests
of Khnub stopped up that well. If inquiry is made of the judges, police, and
informers that have been appointed in the Southern Province, it shall be
known to our lord that it is exactly like this, as we are saying. Indeed, we are
separated [from . . . ]
[ . . . .] We grew in number [. . . . Nothing ba]d was found in [us. . . . .]
. . . to bring offering [. . . .] to do there for Yaho the g[od . . . ] . . . [ . . . ] but
one brazier [ . . . .] The furniture they took and [made] their own. [ . . . ] If
it please our lord . . . [ . . . ] we from the [ Jewish] community [ . . . ] If it
please our lord, may [an order] be issued [ . . . ] we. If [it please our lo]rd
The report mentions the destruction of the temple only on the reverse side
of the papyrus. Owing to the fact that the scribe rotated the papyrus sheet
by ninety degrees, the damage to the top and bottom of the recto affects
the right and left sides of the verso. It leaves us with a very truncated mes-
sage. But we can make out references to offerings and a brazier, as well as a
phrase about “the furniture they took and made their own.” Also the occur-
rence of the verb “to demolish” in the last line suggests that the description
is about the ruined temple. The petition presumably ended with a request
for permission to rebuild.
The significance of the petition to Arsames is the light it throws on
the historical context of the temple demolition. In fact, the message to the
satrap is relatively succinct when it comes to the damage to the temple, in
comparison with the description of three other “crimes” of the priests of
Khnum: they demolished the part of the royal granary that stood in the for-
tress of Elephantine, built a wall in the middle of the fortress, and occluded
the well that had provided the soldiers with water when garrisoned. Such
interventions in the infrastructure of the fortress seem unrelated to the
demolition of the temple. The common explanation interprets the destruc-
tion of the granary, the building of the wall, and the occlusion of the well
as collateral damage or merely provocations. Such qualifications assume
that the principal aim of the Egyptians was the demolition of the Jewish
temple, the rest being side effects. This might be argued with respect to
the granary and the well, but the construction of a wall of separation does
not fall into the category of collateral damage. No one builds a wall over-
night. It requires planning and time. These actions convey the impression of
premeditation. Apparently the Egyptians intended to create a situation in
which the Jewish garrison would be unable to perform its duties. Without
access to water and food, the soldiers would be helpless if anyone attacked
the fortress; it would turn into a death trap. The function of the wall was
to isolate the Jewish quarter, turning it into the ghetto it had never been
before. It also cut the Jewish soldiers off from the part of the royal granary
the Egyptians did not destroy. This is what you would do if you wanted to
neutralize a military opponent.
The acts of aggression listed in the first part of the petition to Arsames
were directed against the Jews—not, however, because the Jews honored
the wrong god or practiced ritual abominations but because they were
Just after the departure of Arsames, Vidranga had been promoted to the
position of governor of the southern province. His son Naphaina had be-
come garrison commander at Syene in his stead. The absence of Arsames
created a power vacuum. The Egyptians seized the opportunity to try to
throw off the yoke of Persian domination. Vidranga had been appointed
to serve the Persian central authorities. Instead he chose to follow a policy
that allowed him to navigate between Egyptian interests and personal gain.
These were years of turmoil and political fragmentation. Vidranga turned
the southern province into his personal domain. In our book, he would
be guilty of treason. It is unlikely that Vidranga’s contemporaries took a
more benign view of the matter. In the formal statement of support from
Bagohi and Delayah, the Egyptians go unmentioned. All the blame falls
on Vidranga, “the wicked one.” It is the exact same qualification—lh.yʾ, “the
wicked one”—that Arsames had employed for the leader of the Egyptian
revolt at Memphis. In the end, Vidranga proved to be a traitor to the Per-
sian cause. He sacrificed a group of loyal soldiers to his personal ambition.
In 407, the temple was still in ruins, but the Jewish community had wit-
nessed the defeat of their opponents. All those who had done harm to the
temple had been killed. The letter does not specify the circumstances of their
deaths. They probably died when the Persian forces brought the southern
province under the control of the Egyptian satrapy again. Vidranga did not
survive either. He died an ignominious death: “The dogs removed his shack-
les from his feet, and all the goods he had acquired were lost.” The translation
of the phrase is unproblematic, but its meaning is obscure. Let us assume
that the dogs are real dogs and the shackles real shackles. This suggests a
scenario in which Vidranga had been captured, fettered by the feet, and left
to die somewhere. The dogs had come to feed on his body. It is a classic im-
age of a disgraceful death. “Let dogs tear his unburied body to pieces,” says
an Assyrian curse upon a possible grave robber. Torn to pieces, Vidranga
had been “released” of his shackles. It is, indeed, a cynical way of celebrating
the end of an enemy. By 407, Vidranga was very much dead. Later references
to a man by the same name apply to a different person.
The petition the Elephantine community sent to Judah and Samaria
presented the demolition of the temple as an act of religiously inspired
anti-Judaism. To the authors of the petition, the dramatic events of the
summer of 410 served as a certificate of Jewish identity. Many modern
scholars have accepted this reading of the events: “The trouble which
brought down the Temple of Yahu was perhaps unavoidable. It specialized,
Conclusion
Over a period of a hundred years, perhaps longer, the Samarians of Pal-
myra became the Jews of Elephantine. Up to a point, the new identity hap-
pened to them through the force of circumstance. The diaspora experience
in Egypt led others to perceive them as Jews. The community became part
of the network of Jewish diaspora nodes. Around 420 BCE, the Persian
authorities included them in the Jewish nation. Commissioned by the Per-
sians, a Jewish ambassador for religious affairs ordered them to bring their
religious calendar into conformity with the calendar observed by Jews all
over the empire. During the final decade of the fifth century, the leadership
of the Elephantine Jews deliberately claimed their new identity to present
their situation in the most favorable light. At first the Jewish identity had
happened to them. In the end, they claimed it. They would henceforth be
remembered as the Elephantine Jews.
In the more than one hundred years that have passed since the discovery of
the Elephantine Jews, several versions of their story have sought to define
who they really were. Some scholars have pictured them as an insulated
community far from the homeland that preserved pre-Deuteronomic prac-
tices. Others have presented them as Jews abroad who had deviated from
the Mosaic religion under the powerful influence of other religions. Some
have proposed that they were actually quite ordinary diaspora Jews, who
were devoted to their ancestral god and observed Pesach and Shabbat but
paid occasional tribute to other gods as a way of cultivating good relations
with their non-Jewish neighbors. Most scholars have argued that the di-
aspora community came into being sometime between 650 and 550 BCE.
Where the Elephantine Jews came from has been a matter of controversy.
While many have considered it likely that they migrated from Judah, the
hypothesis of Samarian origins has been vigorously defended as well. Who
were the Elephantine Jews? This epilogue seeks to answer that question by
summing up the results of a review of all the evidence, including the texts
from the Aramaic papyrus in Demotic script.
If it had not been for Papyrus Amherst 63, it is doubtful whether a
review of the evidence, however rigorous, would have been able to come up
with a compelling narrative to take the place of earlier versions of the story.
Recent monographs have challenged conventional interpretations and illu-
minated many aspects of the Elephantine experience. Yet it has proven very
difficult, if not impossible, to offer a comprehensive counternarrative on the
basis of more or less the same evidence that was used to write the classic
version of the story. All the Aramaic texts from Elephantine are from the
143
fifth century BCE. This fact alone renders speculation about the origins
and development of the Elephantine Jewish community a hazardous affair.
The Amherst papyrus sheds new light on the origins of the community.
Owing to the historical data it contains, it is now possible to follow the
trajectory of the Elephantine community and its antecedents over a period
spanning three hundred years. Except for the references in the book of
Jeremiah, we still have nothing from the sixth century. But the information
in the Amherst papyrus allows us to answer some of the most tantalizing
questions about the origins and the history of the community.
One of the things the papyrus shows is that the ancestors of the Ele-
phantine Jews were Samarians. As a result of the Assyrian victory over Sa-
maria in 721, they had left their homeland and moved to Judah, where they
found employment as mercenaries. These men came from a religious tradi-
tion in which Yaho had all the traits of a storm god. In their temples, they
worshipped him in the form of a bull calf. He was “our Bull,” as one of their
traditional songs stated. Yaho was a warrior god. To men from the military
profession, this must have felt reassuring: “Some by the bow, some by the
spear—behold, as for us, my Lord, our God is Yaho!” When the descen-
dants of these Samarians ended up in the deep south of Egypt, they held on
to the god of their fathers. In a way, they followed in their fathers’ footsteps
professionally as well, since they kept serving in the armed forces. Some
served as mercenaries, but most of them served in a land-for-service ar-
rangement that entitled them to houses and fields in return for their readi-
ness to take up arms to defend the interests of their new masters.
Originally, these Samarians spoke Hebrew, like the rest of the popu-
lation of Samaria. The religious songs that they took with them were in
Hebrew, as is clear from the various Hebraisms that appear in the Ara-
maic version of three of their psalms in the Amherst papyrus. Although the
northern dialect of Hebrew differed from the Judean variant, Samarians
and Judeans were perfectly able to communicate. So when the Samarian
soldiers went to Judah—along with many others after the fall of Samaria
in 721—they continued speaking Hebrew. The reason that, at some point,
they completely abandoned Hebrew had to do with their longtime stay
in Palmyra. The Amherst papyrus does not mention Palmyra—or rather
Tadmor, as it used to be called. But the references to a “fortress of palms”
situated near a spring on the fringe of the desert along a trade route make
the identification with Palmyra compelling. The Samarians ended up in
Palmyra because they had been looking for shelter. We can only guess at
the reason they left Judah. The most plausible scenario assumes that Sen-
nacherib’s campaign in 701 was so devastating that it resulted in mass mi-
gration from Judah. The Samarian mercenaries were among these migrants.
Along with their Judean commander, they found shelter at Palmyra. The
Amherst papyrus has a historical narrative of their arrival. The reference
to “the people of your dialect,” unintelligible to the people who welcomed
them, demonstrates that they did not speak Aramaic when they came. At
Palmyra, the dominant language was Aramaic. The switch to Aramaic was
inevitable. If the Samarians wanted to be part of the ethnically mixed com-
munity of Palmyra, they had to speak its language. When they left Palmyra
for Egypt, toward the end of the seventh century, they spoke Aramaic.
Though originally from Samaria, they had become Arameans in language.
Language and ethnicity are two different things. The ethnicity of the
Elephantine Jews is complex. The Amherst papyrus shows that the fore-
bears of the Elephantine Jews had accumulated ethnic identities. They had
come to Palmyra as a troop of Samarian soldiers under the leadership of
a Judean commander. Their stay at Palmyra of about a century had turned
them into Arameans. This was their new identity, though their Samarian
roots did not cease to matter. As Israelites, they worshipped the god of their
ancestors—the three Israelite psalms celebrate Yaho as the supreme deity—
but they identified him with the Aramean god Bethel. In addition, they
made room in their devotion for such gods as Anat-Yaho, Eshem-Bethel,
and Herem-Bethel. While religion is not a direct echo of ethnicity, it sug-
gests that these Samarians had come to see themselves as a subgroup of
the Aramean community. The fifth-century texts from Elephantine waver
between an Aramean and a Jewish identity. The fact that the Elephantine
Jews should look at themselves as Arameans is no cause for wonder, given
their history in Palmyra. But their self-reference as Jews is arresting. Sa-
marians have disappeared from the picture.
The Jewish identity of the Jews of the island was the outcome of the
Elephantine experience rather than the identity they carried with them
when they came. When they arrived they were Arameans with a Samarian
background. By the time they were forced to leave the island, they were
Jews. This was the result of their time in Egypt. The diaspora experience
had brought them into contact with various other Jewish communities.
The Jewish community of Migdol, for instance, had little affinity with the
Samarian roots of the Elephantine Jews. But if the Elephantine community
had a temple for Yaho, it meant it was Jewish. In Egypt, Jewish identity
But forgetting is not the purpose of scholarly inquiry. This book has
attempted to look at the other side of a familiar diaspora story. It reveals
a reality that perhaps does not fit the classic diaspora narrative. The Ele-
phantine Jews were originally much less Jewish than many authors like to
think. Their story illustrates the formative role of the diaspora experience in
the creation of Judaism. Elephantine is an early chapter in the story of the
Jews. It is, in some respects, an unusual chapter. At Elephantine, it was pos-
sible to be a Jew and a polytheist. It was possible to be a Jew and have your
own temple far away from Jerusalem. It was possible to be a Jew, marry an
Egyptian wife, and still have Jewish children. It was possible to be a Jew and
never read the Torah because there was, as yet, no Torah. To anyone who
hears it, the story of the Elephantine community is a reminder of the fact
that the story of the Jews has many chapters. To believe that every chapter
tells the same story in a slightly different way would be a big mistake.
149
“[I am exa]lted,
[I have reared you,]
I have suckled my darling.”
[Elevate, my Lady, your baby!]
[You will make (him) glorious,]
[You will make] him strong.
A Blessing (iii 17–19)
. . . [. . . . . . . . . . . . .]
[. . . . . .] you will ble[ss . . . ]
[. . . . . . . . .] . . . [. . . . . . . .]
Nabu Chooses His Bride (iv 1–6 // iii 1–6; iii 12–17)
[Nabu comes out.]
He sin[gs to the Lady] of the Sanctuary:
[“I will choose you.]
I [have purified (you)] and poured the oil,
[I have made my pri]de [rule]
Over all the Gods.”
Your throne [ . . . ]
[ ...]
Please [enter!”]
[ ...]
Our Crescent,
You slumber in (lit., from) Rash!
You are dimmed because of love.
The light of his radiance has passed.
And his light is not high.
His light has turned dark.
Your <cl>oud is a seal, O Lord,
Send away your cloud for me!
Arise, wake up for me!
Wake up, Lady, his Spouse!
The guard looks
At the inner room of the Lady.
The Gods are watching out for the Queen,
Also the princes, for the Spouse.
The young woman, once examined,
Is established in his palace.
Now come, Bride of his,
Shake off slumber!
Let me see her rays.
And you will be called upon:
“Bring the God, the Lord!”
Let me see their rise.
End.
Praying for Rain (x 9–13)
Bethel, God Most High,
Who sweeps up the sea,
Who dwells on the mountains—
All the rainclouds,
It is you who builds them!
We celebrate you in our song!
Do let it rain, Lord,
In vessel, pond, and cistern.
For you, our silver and our gold.
For you is the fullness of our possessions.
Arise Yaho!
Do protect,
As you have been protecting
Your people since olden times.
End.
We entered—
He had been very much dismembered.
The very spot where you were lying down,
We quickly entered, and we wailed.
“Come, Nanay, get up!
Move! That we may exalt you!
On the chariot
Of the King of Rash, the Bull,
Put a stele!
On the throne, on the throne
Of the Bull-of-Babylon, our guard.
Exalt my people!
My people,
Establish them like Gods!
Nanay, let them get their fill
(From) jars of wine,
(From) his inebriating drink,
That used to intoxicate me.
“Upon my back
The horses have marched.
I am a viper
At their heels.
The horses have marched
Upon my belly.
They turned gray from my saliva,
And from my venom they fell ill.”
In a fortress of palms,
That shall not be captured
And that hides no breach.
189
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DUL A Dictionary of the Ugaritic Language in the Alphabetic
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EncJud Encyclopaedia Judaica. Edited by F. Skolnik and
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HALAT Hebräisches und Aramäisches Lexikon zum Alten Testament.
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JAOS Journal of the American Oriental Society
JBL Journal of Biblical Literature
JEA Journal of Egyptian Archaeology
JEOL Jaarbericht van het Vooraziatisch-Egyptisch Genootschap Ex
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JNES Journal of Near Eastern Studies
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JSJ Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic,
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JSOTSup Journal for the Study of the Old Testament: Supplement
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JSSSup Journal of Semitic Studies Supplement
KAI Kanaanäische und aramäische Inschriften. H. Donner and
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Hani and Other Places. M. Dietrich, O. Loretz, and
J. Sanmartín. Münster, 1995.
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VT Vetus Testamentum
WAW Writings from the Ancient World
ZAW Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft
ZDMG Zeitschrift der deutschen morgenländischen Gesellschaft
193
in Forschung in der Papyrussammlung: Eine Festgabe für das neue Museum (ed.
Verena M. Lepper; Berlin: Staatlichen Museen zu Berlin—Preussischer Kul-
turbesitz und Akademie Verlag, 2012), 497–502.
19. See Lozachmeur, La collection Clermont-Ganneau, 28–67; Élisabeth Delange, ed.,
Les fouilles françaises d’Éléphantine (Assouan), 1906–1911: Les archives Clermont-
Ganneau et Clédat (Mémoires de l’Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres
46; Paris: de Boccard, 2012).
20. See Honroth, Rubensohn, and Zucker, “Bericht über die Ausgrabungen,” 15.
21. Eduard Sachau published his lecture under the title Drei aramäische Papyrus-
urkunden aus Elephantine (Berlin: Preussische Akademie der Wissenschaften,
1907).
22. See Lozachmeur, La collection Clermont-Ganneau, 50.
23. Sachau, Aramäische Papyrus und Ostraka; Arthur Cowley, Aramaic Papyri of the
Fifth Century B.C. (Oxford: Clarendon, 1923).
24. See Emil G. Kraeling, The Brooklyn Museum Aramaic Papyri (New Haven, Conn.:
Yale University Press, 1953).
25. See Edda Bresciani, “Papiri aramaichi egiziani di epoca persiana presso il Museo
Civico di Padova,” Rivista degli Studi Orientali 35 (1960): 11–24, esp. 12 n. 2.
Porten and Yardeni have reedited the Padua papyri as TAD A3.3–4. Giovanni
Battista Belzoni published an account of his travels and experiences in Egypt
under the title Narrative of the Operations and Recent Discoveries within the
Pyramids, Temples, Tombs, and Excavations in Egypt and Nubia (London: John
Murray, 1820), but it does not mention the Elephantine papyri.
26. News of the discovery was first announced by Semi Gabra, “Lettres araméennes
trouvées à Touna el Gebel Hermoupolis ouest,” Bulletin de l’Institut d’Égypte
28 (1945–1946): 161–162. For their publication, see Edda Bresciani and Mu-
rad Kamil, Le lettere aramaiche di Hermopoli (Atti della Accademia Nazionale
dei Lincei, Memorie 8/12.5; Rome: Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei, 1966),
356–428.
27. See Ludwig Borchardt, “Nachricht von einem weiteren Funde aramäischer
Urkunden,” in Borchardt, Allerhand Kleinigkeiten: Seiner wissenschaftlichen
Freunden und Bekannten zu seinem 70. Geburtstage am 5. Oktober 1933 überreicht
(Leipzig: s.n., 1933), 47–49. The texts were published by Godfrey R. Driver,
Aramaic Documents of the Fifth Century B.C. (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1954), with revised editions in 1957 and 1965. For the texts, see also TAD
A6.3–16.
28. Lozachmeur, La collection Clermont-Ganneau.
29. The project is funded by the European Research Council and runs from July
2015 to June 2020. It is headed by Professor Verena Lepper from the Egyptian
Museum and Papyrus Collection, Berlin.
30. For an edition of some of the epigraphic discoveries, see Wolfgang Röllig, “Neue
phönizische und aramäische Krugaufschriften und Ostraka aus Elephantine,”
in The First Cataract of the Nile: One Region, Diverse Perspectives (ed. Dietrich
49. See 2 Macc 2:21, 8:1, 14:38 (twice). On the term Ioudaïsmos, see also Martha
Himmelfarb, “Judaism and Hellenism in 2 Maccabees,” Poetics Today 19 (1988):
19–40.
50. See André Lemaire, “Judean Identity in Elephantine: Everyday Life According
to the Ostraca,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Achaemenid Period: Negotiating
Identity in an International Context (ed. Oded Lipschits, Gary N. Knoppers,
and Manfred Oeming; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2011), 365–373, esp.
368; Annalisa Azzoni, “Women of Elephantine and Women in the Land of
Israel,” in In the Shadow of Bezalel: Aramaic, Biblical, and Ancient Near Eastern
Studies in Honor of Bezalel Porten (ed. Alejandro F. Botta; CHANE 60; Leiden:
Brill, 2013), 3–12, esp. 3 n. 1; Manfred Weippert, Historisches Textbuch zum Alten
Testament (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2010), 476–478; Rohrmoser,
Götter, Tempel und Kult, 6; Granerød, Dimensions of Yahwism; Collin Cornell,
“Cult Statuary at the Judean Temple at Yeb,” JSJ 47 (2016): 291–309.
51. Steve Mason, “Jews, Judaeans, Judaizing, Judaism: Problems of Categorization
in Ancient History,” JSJ 38 (2007): 457–512, quotation p. 457.
52. See, e.g., Philip F. Esler, “Judean Ethnic Identity in Josephus’ ‘Against Apion,’”
in A Wandering Galilean: Essays in Honour of Seán Freyne (ed. Zuleika Rodg-
ers, Margaret Daly-Denton, and Anne Fitzpatrick McKinley; Supplements to
the Journal for the Study of Judaism 132; Leiden: Brill, 2009), 73–92; Daniel
Boyarin, “Semantic Differences; or, ‘Judaism’/‘Christianity,’” in The Ways That
Never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages
(ed. Adam H. Becker and Annette Yoshiko Reed; TSAJ 95; Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 2003), 65–86, esp. 67–68; Boyarin, “Rethinking Jewish Christianity:
An Argument for Dismantling a Dubious Category (to Which Is Appended
a Correction of My Border Lines),” JQR 99 (2009): 7–36.
53. Paul Auster, The Brooklyn Follies (London: Faber & Faber, 2011), 251.
54. Brent Nongbri, Before Religion: A History of a Modern Concept (New Haven,
Conn.: Yale University Press, 2013).
55. Nongbri, Before Religion, 12.
56. See Wilfred Cantwell Smith, The Meaning and End of Religion: A Revolutionary
Approach to the Great Religious Traditions (New York: Macmillan, 1962).
57. See, e.g., the discussion of thrēskeia in Schwartz, Judeans and Jews, esp. 93–102.
Compare also the Hebrew notion of yirʾat YHWH, “fear of the Lord.”
58. Most authors would put the composition of Tobit in either the late third or early
second century BCE. See Andrew B. Perrin, “An Almanac of Tobit Studies:
2000–2014,” CBR 13 (2014): 107–142, esp. 113–115. A majority of scholars assign
Judith to the Maccabean era, i.e., the second century BCE. See, e.g., Benedikt
Otzen, Tobit and Judith (London: Sheffield Academic, 2002), 132–135.
59. Tobit descends from the tribe of Naphtali (Tob 1:1–2), while Judith is genealogi-
cally linked to Israel and Jacob ( Jdt 8:1).
60. See Tob 1:2; Jdt 8:3–4; 16:21, 23.
61. For references, see Tob 1:6; 14:8–9, 16–17; Jdt 8:21; 15:9; Tob 1:10; Jdt 12:1–4.
62. Note especially Tob 1:17–18, where refugees from Judah are included in “my peo-
ple” (ek tou genous mou). See also Tob 2:3.
63. See Jdt 7:17, 15:8, 6:17, 13:14.
64. Papyrus Amherst 63, xvii 1–6, for which see the discussion in Chapter 4.
65. Simon Schama, The Story of the Jews: Finding the Words, 1000 BCE–1492 CE
(London: Bodley Head, 2013), xvi.
66. See Robin Cohen, Global Diasporas: An Introduction (2nd ed.; London: Rout-
ledge, 2008).
67. See Kim D. Butler, “Defining Diaspora, Refining a Discourse,” Diaspora 10
(2001): 189–219.
17. See Andrew B. Perrin, “An Almanac of Tobit Studies: 2000–2014,” CBR 13
(2014): 107–142, esp. 113–115.
18. Tob 1:21–22, 2:10, 11:18–19, 14:10. Also see Jonas C. Greenfield, “Ahiqar in the
Book of Tobit,” in De la Torah au Messie (ed. Maurice Carrez, Joseph Doré, and
Pierre Grelot; Paris: Desclée, 1981), 329–336.
19. See Johannes van Dijk, “Die Inschriftenfunde: II. Die Tontafeln aus dem rēš-
Heiligtum,” in Heinrich J. Lenzen et al., XVIII. vorläufiger Bericht über die von
dem Deutschen Archäologischen Institut und der Deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft aus
Mitteln der Deutschen Forschungsgemeinschaft unternommenen Ausgrabungen in
Uruk-Warka: Winter 1959 /60 (Berlin: Gebr. Mann, 1962), 43–61, esp. 45, lines
19–20.
20. For an example, see the Instructions of Shuruppak in Wilfred G. Lambert,
Babylonian Wisdom Literature (Oxford: Clarendon, 1960), 92–95; Bendt Alster,
The Instructions of Suruppak: A Sumerian Proverb Collection (Copenhagen: Aka-
demisk Forlag, 1974).
21. See Jonas C. Greenfield, “The Dialects of Early Aramaic,” JNES 37 (1978): 93–99,
esp. 97; James M. Lindenberger, The Aramaic Proverbs of Ahiqar (Baltimore:
Johns Hopkins University Press, 1983), 279–304; Ingo Kottsieper, Die Sprache
der Ah.iqarsprüche (BZAW 194; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1990), 241–246.
22. See Simo Parpola, “The Forlorn Scholar,” in Language, Literature, and His-
tory: Philological and Historical Studies Presented to Erica Reiner (ed. Francesca
Rochberg-Halton; American Oriental Series 67; New Haven, Conn.: Ameri-
can Oriental Society, 1987), 257–278; Karel van der Toorn, “Scholars at the Ori-
ental Court: The Figure of Daniel against Its Mesopotamian Background,” in
The Book of Daniel: Composition and Reception (ed. John J. Collins and Peter W.
Flint; 2 vols.; Leiden: Brill, 2001), 1:37–54.
23. See Karl-Theodor Zauzich, “Demotische Fragmente zum Ahikar-Roman,” in
Folia rara: Wolfgang Voigt LXV. diem natalem celebranti ab amicis et catalogorum
codicum orientalium conscribendorum dedicata (ed. Herbert Franke; Wiesbaden:
Steiner, 1976), 80–85; Joachim Friedrich Quack, “The Interaction of Egyptian
and Aramaic Literature,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Achaemenid Era: Ne-
gotiating Identity in an International Context (ed. Oded Lipschits, Gary N.
Knoppers, and Manfred Oeming; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2011),
375–401, esp. 376–378 (with references to further literature).
24. See Quack, “Interaction of Egyptian and Aramaic Literature,” 381–383.
25. André Lemaire, “Aramaic Literacy and School in Elephantine,” Maarav 21 (2014
[2017]): 295–307, esp. 302–307.
26. The spelling yhh is characteristic of the ostraca, while the spelling yhw is usual
in the papyri. However, the spelling yhh does occur in the papyri. In the two
instances where the scribe Natan son of Ananyah writes the name of Yaho, he
uses the spelling yhh instead of yhw. So this was apparently the orthography
that he had been taught to use. See TAD B2.7:14 (ʾgwrʾ zy yhh ʾlh; 446 BCE);
B3.3:2 (lh.n zy yhh ʾlhʾ zy byb byrtʾ; 449 BCE). There is yet a third variant in
the Yaho orthography. Haggai son of Shemayah writes the divine name on
one occasion as yh. See TAD B3.4:25 (lh.n lyh byb; 437 BCE). The differences
in spelling reflect different scribal practices within the Jewish community. In
view of the dates of the yhh spelling in the papyri, it is difficult to sustain that
yhh is the older spelling and yhw the younger one.
27. For the Elephantine “pantheon,” see Max L. Margolis, “The Elephantine Docu-
ments,” JQR 2 (1912): 419–443, esp. 435 (“The Elephantine Jews could appar-
ently boast of a pantheon”); E. C. B. MacLaurin, “Date of the Foundation
of the Jewish Colony at Elephantine,” JNES 27 (1968): 89–96, esp. 92 (“The
personnel of the Elephantine pantheon.”); Raik Heckl, “Remembering Jacob
in the Late Persian/Early Hellenistic Era,” in Remembering Biblical Figures
in the Late Persian and Early Hellenistic Periods (ed. Diana V. Edelman and
Ehud Ben Zvi; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), 38–80, esp. 46–48;
Rohrmoser, Götter, Tempel und Kult, 150; James S. Anderson, Monotheism and
Yahweh’s Appropriation of Baal (London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2015), 32–33
(“pantheon of Elephantine”); Granerød, Dimensions of Yahwism, 245–252 (“The
Pantheons of the Garrisons in Syene and Elephantine”).
28. For the notion of the polytheism of the Elephantine Jews, see, e.g., Van Hoon-
acker, Une communauté Judéo-Araméenne, 82 (“polythéisme relatif ”); Vincent,
La religion des Judéo-Araméens, 100, 143 (“contaminated by polytheism”), 712.
29. See Porten, Archives from Elephantine, 134–135. Very similar, though more so-
phisticated, is the approach in Michael H. Silverman, Religious Values in the
Jewish Proper Names at Elephantine (AOAT 217; Kevelaer: Butzon & Bercker;
Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1985).
30. See TAD D7.18:2–3 (byt yhh). Compare also the references in the early papyri:
TAD D1.6, frag. b (bʾgwrʾ; Padua letter; first half fifth century BCE); A3.3:1
([b]yt yhw; Padua letter); D4.9:1 ([by]t yhw; first half fifth century BCE).
31. For references to Shabbat, see Cl.-G. 44:5 = TAD D7.10:5; Cl.-G. 152:2 = TAD
D7.16:2 (reading uncertain); Cl.-G. 186:7 = TAD D7.35:7; Cl.-G. 205:4 (broken
context); TAD D7.12:9; D7.16:2; D7.28:4; D7.48:5 (reading uncertain). For refer-
ences to Pesach, see TAD D7.6:9–10; D7.24:5.
32. For the expression h.y yhh, see Cl.-G. 14, 20, 41, 56, 152 (= TAD D7.16), 174,
185. Also see X16 and Join 8, presented and discussed in Hélène Lozachmeur,
La collection Clermont-Ganneau: Ostraca, épigraphes sur jarre, étiquettes de bois
(Mémoires de l’Académie des Inscriptions et des Belles-Lettres 35; Paris: de
Boccard, 2006), 528–529. For the epithet yhh s.bʾt, see Cl.-G. 167:1 ([šlm NN yh]
h s.bʾt yšʾl [bkl ʿdn . . . ]); TAD D7.35:1–2 = Cl.-G. 186:1–2 (šlmk yhh [s.bʾt yšʾ]l bkl
ʿdn). See also Cl.-G. 175+185 (= Join 8):9.
33. See the 402 BCE contract laying down the sale of an apartment, which men-
tions “the temple of Yaho” (ʾgwrʾ zy yhw) as a topographical reference (TAD
B3.12:18–19).
(born ca. 475), to Yedanyah the younger (born ca. 450). Lady Mibtahyah, per-
haps the most prominent woman of the Jewish community around 450 BCE,
was the daughter of Mahseyah and thus a sister of Gemaryah. See, e.g., the
discussion in Annalisa Azzoni, The Private Lives of Women in Persian Egypt
( Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2013), 134–136. For Yedanyah the elder
son of Mahseyah the elder, see the discussion in Lozachmeur, La collection
Clermont-Ganneau, 464–465.
47. For “Mahsah” as the shortened form of his name, see TAD B2.1:9; B2.3:35–36;
Cl.-G. 2:2, for which see Lozachmeur, La collection Clermont-Ganneau, 175–176.
48. TAD B2.1:2–3 (471 BCE; scribe: Pelatyah son of Ah.yo).
49. TAD B2.2:3–4 (464 BCE; scribe: Itu son of Abah).
50. TAD B2.3:1–2 (459 BCE; scribe: Attar-shuri son of Nabu-zer-ibni). For the
reading of the date, see Bezalel Porten, “The Aramaic Texts,” in Porten et al.,
The Elephantine Papyri in English: Three Millennia of Cross-Cultural Continuity
and Change (2nd rev. ed.; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2011), 75–275,
esp. 166 n. 3.
51. TAD B2.4:1–2 (459 BCE; scribe: Attar-shuri son of Nabu-zer-ibni).
52. TAD B2.6 (449 BCE; scribe: Natan son of Ananyah). This is the marriage con-
tract of Mibtahyah daughter of Mahseyah to the Egyptian architect Eshor son
of Zeha. For the reading of the date, see Porten, “Aramaic Texts,” 178 and n. 1.
53. TAD B2.7:1–2 (446 BCE; scribe: Natan son of Ananyah).
54. TAD B2.1:2 (471 BCE; scribe: Pelatyah son of Ahyo).
55. TAD B2.2:8–9 (464 BCE; scribe: Itu son of Abah).
56. TAD B2.9:3–4 (420 BCE; scribe: Mauzyah son of Natan).
57. TAD B2.11:2 (410 BCE; scribe: Nabu-tukulti son of Nabu-zer-ibni).
58. For Meshullam as seller of a house, see TAD B2.7:3. For a reference to a loan,
see TAD B3.1 (456 BCE). In 449, Meshullam gave his “handmaiden” Tamet
(variant: Tapamet) in marriage to Anani, “a temple steward of Yaho the god
who is in Elephantine the fortress” (TAD B3.3). In TAD B3.12 (402 BCE), Ta-
pamet is said to have been his “favorite wife” (ʾntth prypt), viz. of Meshullam
son of Zakkur (line 11) and his gwʾ (line 24), interpreted as “female slave” (see
DNWSI, s.v. “gw”), all of which suggests that Tamet used to be an odalisque
or concubine. Azzoni prefers to translate gwʾ as “member of the household”
(Private Lives, 92–93, and n. 36). For the meaning of lh.n, going back to Ak-
kadian (a)lahhinu (“a kind of temple steward,” see CAD 1.1, s.v. “alahhinu”), see
˘˘ ˘˘
DNWSI, s.v. “lh.n” (“certain type of temple servant”); Stephen A. Kaufman,
The Akkadian Influences on Aramaic (AS 19; Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1974), 66 and n. 176; cf. Papyrus Amherst 63, viii 12–13 (“Let sixty temple
stewards (bny lh.n) sprinkle the stele of the Lord, their palms full of frankin-
cense for the nostrils of Bethel”).
59. As a personal name, ʾāt. ēr is also attested in Ezra 2:16, 42; Neh 7:21, 45; 10:18. For
the meaning “hunchback,” see Martin Noth, Die israelitischen Personennamen
im Rahmen der gemeinsemitischen Namengebung (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1928),
227; cf. also Hebrew and Palestinian Aramaic ʾit. .t ēr, “left-handed, left-legged.”
For Ater’s real name, Meshullam, see Lozachmeur, La collection Clermont-
Ganneau, Join 9 (= Cl.-G. 221+231+X1): 1, 9 (Zakkur son of Meshullam,
twice); 11 (Shillem son of Meshullam). In TAD B2.3:30, the Zekaryah son of
Meshullam who acted as witness to the donation of a house by Mahseyah
son of Yedanyah to his daughter Mibtahyah in 460 BCE, is to be identified
with Zakkur son of Meshullam, the father of Meshullam son of Zakkur son
of Ater.
60. TAD B3.1:3 (456 BCE; scribe: Natan son of Anani).
61. TAD B3.3:2–3 (449 BCE; scribe: Natan son of Ananyah).
62. TAD B3.6:2 (427 BCE; scribe: Haggai = Haggai son of Shemayah). Haggai son
of Shemayah son of Haggai was active as a scribe in Elephantine in 437–400
BCE. For his style and training, see the observations by Alejandro F. Botta, The
Aramaic and Egyptian Legal Traditions at Elephantine (London: T&T Clark,
2009), 40–43. See also TAD B2.7:19 (446 BCE; as witness); B3.4:23 (437 BCE;
as scribe); B3.6:15–16 (427 BCE; as scribe); B3.8:43 (420 BCE); B3.10:23
(404 BCE); B3.11:17 (402 BCE); B3.12:32 (402 BCE); B4.6 (400 BCE).
63. For the full name of Ananyah, see TAD B3.11:8. For his marriage with Yeho-
yishma, see TAD B3.8. For the ration Ananyah received, see TAD B3.13:4 (402
BCE).
64. TAD B3.8:1–2 (420 BCE; scribe: Mauzyah son of Natan).
65. TAD B3.12:2–3 (402 BCE; scribe: Haggai son Shemayah).
66. TAD B3.13 (402 BCE; scribe: Shaweh-ram son of Eshem-ram son of
Eshem-shezib).
67. TAD B5.2:2 (last quarter fifth century BCE; scribe unknown). PN = Personal
Name.
68. TAD A4.3:1, 12.
69. The expression is swnknn zy byb byrtʾ mh[h.s]nn (TAD A4.10:6; ca. 407–406
BCE).
70. The expression is wyhwdyʾ kl bʿly yb (TAD A4.7:22 // A4.8:21–22; var. klʾ for kl).
See also A4.7:26–27 // A4.8:25–26: “We, and our wives, and our children, and
all the Jews over here” (407 BCE).
71. See, most notably, Edoardo Volterra, “‘YHWDY’ e ‘ʾRMY’ nei papiri aramaici
del V secolo provenienti dall’Egitto,” Rendiconti dell’Accademia Nazionale dei
Lincei, Classe di Scienze morali, storiche e filologiche 8/18 (1963): 131–173.
72. Arthur Cowley, Aramaic Papyri of the Fifth Century B.C. (Oxford: Clarendon,
1923), xvi.
73. See Rohrmoser, Götter, Tempel und Kult, 8.
74. Porten, Archives from Elephantine, 33.
75. See, e.g., Anke Joisten-Pruschke, Das religiöse Leben der Juden von Elephantine in
der Achämenidenzeit (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2008), 84.
76. Pierre Grelot, Documents araméens d’Égypte (LAPO 5; Paris: Cerf, 1972), 174. See
also Botta, Aramaic and Egyptian Legal Traditions, 54.
92. The expression is zy ʾtrh byb byrtʾ ʿbyd (TAD B2.2:2–3; B2.7:19; D2.12:2–3). For
the translations, see DNWSI, s.v. “ʾšr”: “whose office is in the fortress of Yeb.”
93. Porten, Archives from Elephantine, 35.
94. TAD B3.12:4–5.
95. For dgln zy ms.ryʾ, see TAD A4.5:1.
96. TAD D9.11, an ostracon from the mid-fifth century BCE, lists the names
of nine soldiers belonging to the Iranian battalion: Rawata, [PN], Atarali,
Vayarashnu, Malayad, Apulli, Saraya, Malanawari, and Pawasamaka. Non-
Caspians in the Iranian regiment included Arta-frada son of Arvastamara
(B7.2:3–4; 401 BCE) and Barzanarava son of Artabarzana, a Bactrian (D2.12:2–
3; 403 BCE).
97. For Artabanu, see TAD B2.2:3 (464 BCE); D2.3:3 (473–465 BCE). For Nama-
sava, see TAD B3.4:2 (twice; 437 BCE). For Marya, see TAD D2.12:3 (403
BCE); B7.2:3–4 (401 BCE). See also TAD D3.39, frag. b, found at Saqqara,
the necropolis of Memphis, where there is a reference to a Horesmian [and?]
Mushezib-Nabu “belonging to the battalion of Marya” (second half fifth cen-
tury BCE). For the initial publication, see Noël Aimé-Giron, Textes araméens
d’Égypte (Cairo: Imprimerie de l’Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale,
1931), no. 27, line 4.
98. Porten’s reconstruction of the contract TAD D2.3 is therefore to be corrected:
[Zadaq son of ] Qon does not have a contract with another Jew but with
a Caspian or a Horesmian, “belonging to the battalion of Ar[tabanu].” Ac-
cording to TAD B2.2:2, 8–9, “Dargamana son of Harshayna, a Horesmian
stationed in Elephantine the fortress, belonging to the battalion of Artabanu”
was a neighbor of Qonyah son of Zadaq. There is a strong likelihood that
[Zadaq son of ] Qon was the father of Qonyah and that his contract was with
either Dargamana or the latter’s father.
99. TAD B2.2 (464 BCE) deals with a complaint by a Horesmian against a Jew that
was arbitrated by the Persian judiciary. TAD B7.2 (401 BCE) records an oath
taken by a Jew in response to a complaint by Artafrada son of Arvastamara,
of the battalion of Marya, who accused the Jew of breaking and entering.
An older relative of Artafrada acted as a witness in the settlement of a case
that opposed another Jew to a Caspian (TAD B2.2:21; 464 BCE). Cl.-G. 135
(first quarter fifth century BCE) refers to a man with the Caspian name
“Shatirbarzana,” who apparently was making accusations against “the Jews.”
See Lozachmeur, La collection Clermont-Ganneau, 288–289. For the Caspian
identity of Shati(r)barzana, see TAD B3.5:11.
100. Reuven Yaron, “Who Is Who in Elephantine?,” Iura 15 (1964): 172.
101. Aramean ethnicity: TAD B2.1:2 (twice); B2.6:2; B2.7:2, 3; B2.8:3; B2.10:2;
B2.11:2; B3.3:2; B3.8:2 (twice); B3.9:2, 3; B3.12:2; B4.5:1, 2; B4.6:2; B5.2:2; B6.1:2;
B7.1:2; B7.2:2; D2.3:2; D2.4:2; D.2.10:2. Jewish ethnicity: TAD B2.2:3, 9, 10;
B2.4:2; B2.9:2, 3; B3.1:3; B3.6:2; B3.13:2; B5.5:2 (uncertain); D2.5:2; D2.7a:2;
D2.12:4.
Nabu who dwells forever in Syene,” from Saqqara); D18.16 (“Abuti daughter
of Shamash-nuri”); D18.17 (“Hor”); D.18.18 (“Shabbetay”).
10. For the Hermopolis letters, see Edda Bresciani and Murad Kamil, Le lettere
aramaiche di Hermopoli (Atti della Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei, Memorie
8/12.5; Rome: Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei, 1966), reedited as TAD A2.1–7
and D1.1. For references to the temples of Bethel and the Queen of Heaven
and of Nabu and Banit, see the temple greetings in TAD A2.1:1; A2.2:1; A2.3:1;
A2.4:1. Note that the texts do not speak of “the temple of Bethel and the
Queen of Heaven” nor of “the temple of Nabu and Banit.” The four deities
each had a separate byt, “house.” In the genitival construction byt DN, the
word byt has a semantic spectrum that runs from “chapel” to “temple.” Com-
pare the expression “the house of the house of Yaho” (byt byt yhw) in TAD
D7.18:2–3. Also see the discussion in Gard Granerød, Dimensions of Yahwism
in the Persian Period: Studies in the Religion and Society of the Judean Community
at Elephantine (BZAW 488; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2016), 94–95.
11. TAD D2.25:9 (late fifth century BCE).
12. TAD D5.37:8 (end fifth century BCE); D7.25:9 (first quarter fifth century BCE);
D9.13:3 (second half fifth century BCE); C4.4:9 (ca. 420 BCE; Syrian or Is-
raelite). For the meaning of the verb ʿqb, “to protect,” see Martin Noth, Die
israelitischen Personennamen im Rahmen der gemeinsemitischen Namengebung
(Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1928), 45–46, 177–178; Herbert B. Huffmon, Amorite
Personal Names in the Mari Texts: A Structural and Lexical Study (Baltimore:
Johns Hopkins Press, 1965), 203–204; Ignace Gelb, Computer-Aided Analysis
of Amorite (AS 21; Chicago: Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago,
1980), 15; HALAT, s.v. “ʿqb II.”
13. TAD D3.13:4 (mid-fifth century BCE). For the meaning of dlh, see Noth, Die
israelitischen Personennamen, 180; HALAT, s.v. “dlh I”; Michael H. Silver-
man, Religious Values in the Jewish Proper Names at Elephantine (AOAT 217;
Kevelaer: Butzon & Bercker; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1985),
141–142.
14. TAD A3.2:1 (first half fifth century BCE). Arthur Cowley has read the name as
bytʾlnd[n], which yields a Babylonian form that would be unique in Bethel
names (Aramaic Papyri of the Fifth Century B.C. [Oxford: Clarendon, 1923],
161). Walter Kornfeld and Michael H. Silverman follow Cowley’s reading
(Kornfeld, Onomastica aramaica aus Ägypten [Vienna: Österreichische Akade-
mie der Wissenschapften, 1978], 43; Silverman, Religious Values, 159). The ten-
tative translation of the name is based on Hebrew and Aramaic nt. r (HALAT,
s.v. “nt.r”; DNWSI, s.v. “ns.r”).
15. TAD A2.1:3 (ca. 500 BCE); B6.4:9, 10 (ca. 420 BCE); D3.13:3 (mid-fifth century
BCE); D7.41:2 (first quarter fifth century BCE); D9.10:2 (mid-fifth century
BCE).
16. TAD D9.9:14 (mid-fifth century BCE).
17. TAD B3.9:11 (416 BCE); D3.13:4 (mid-fifth century BCE; reading uncertain).
For the meaning, see CAD 14, s.v. “rēʾû,” 2a–c; PAT, s.v. “rʿyʾ.”
18. TAD D9.10:7 (mid-fifth century BCE).
19. TAD A3.8:9 (ca. 410 BCE). For the meaning, see Silverman, Religious Values, 136.
20. TAD B4.4:6, 10 // B4.3 (483 BCE). The name belongs to a centurion. For the
meaning, see Silverman, Religious Values, 136.
21. TAD B3.9:11 (416 BCE). For the meaning, see Silverman, Religious Values, 136.
22. TAD D22.21 (first half fifth century BCE).
23. TAD C4.3:12, 16 (mid-fifth century BCE).
24. TAD C4.3:20 (mid-fifth century BCE).
25. TAD B8.4:3 (431 BCE); B8.6:8. The name belongs to a battalion commander. For
the meaning of śgb, see DNWSI, s.v. “šgb.”
26. TAD B8.4:3 (431 BCE). For the meaning of the name, see Judah B. Segal, Ara-
maic Texts from North Saqqâra (London: Egypt Exploration Society, 1983),
49 n. 16.
27. TAD B4.4:6, 10; C3.6:11 (first half fifth century BCE). For the meaning, see
Segal, Aramaic Texts, 67 n. 15.
28. TAD A2.5:6 (ca. 500 BCE).
29. TAD C3.6:12 (first half fifth century BCE).
30. TAD D18.7; D19.2 (sarcophagus and mummy label; fifth century BCE); D19.3
(mummy label; fifth century BCE).
31. See TAD B6.4:9.
32. See TAD D18.7; D19.2.
33. TAD A2.1:3 (ca. 500 BCE). In a list of temple contributions from Elephantine
(400 BCE), there is a reference to “Menahemet daughter of Yedanyah son of
Anati.” See TAD C3.15:111.
34. TAD B6.4:9 (ca. 420 BCE); B3.9:12 (416 BCE).
35. TAD D22.36 (graffito from Jebel Abu-Ghorab).
36. TAD D18.6; D18.10 (sarcophagus).
37. TAD D18.2: “sarcophagus of priest (kmrʾ) Herem-shezib son of Eshah.”
38. TAD D22.5; D22.6 (graffito on pyramid of Senusret III).
39. TAD D22.53 (graffito).
40. TAD D18.7; D19.2 (sarcophagus and mummy label; fifth century BCE); D22.18
(graffito).
41. TAD B3.9:11 (416 BCE).
42. TAD B3.9:11 (416 BCE).
43. Noël Aimé-Giron, Textes araméens d’Égypte (Cairo: Imprimerie de l’Institut
Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 1931), 116–117.
44. Henri Seyrig, “Altar Dedicated to Zeus Betylos,” in Excavations at Dura-
Europos: Preliminary Report of Fourth Season of Work (ed. Paul V. C. Baur, Mi-
chael I. Rostovtzeff, and Alfred R. Bellinger; New Haven, Conn.: Yale Uni-
versity Press, 1933), 68–71, no. 168, pl. XV/1: “To [his] ancestral god (theō patrōō)
Zeus Betylos, [god] of the dwellers along the Orontes, Aurelius Diphilianus,
soldier . . . , has dedicated this altar.” See also Józef Tadeusz Milik, who cites
another dedicatory inscription from Qalat Kalota, about twenty kilometers
northwest of Aleppo, mentioning Baitylos as one of the “ancestral gods” (“Les
papyrus araméens d’Hermoupolis et les cultes syro-phéniciens en Égypte
perse,” Biblica 48 [1967]: 546–622, esp. 569).
45. See Mark Lidzbarski, Ephemeris für Semitische Epigraphik (3 vols.; Giessen:
Töpelmann, 1902–1915), 2:323–324.
46. See Simo Parpola and Kazuko Watanabe, Neo-Assyrian Treaties and Loyalty
Oaths (SAA 2; Helsinki: Helsinki University Press, 1988), no. 5, col. iv, lines
6′–7′; no. 6, lines 467–468.
47. The name occurs in logographic writing as mèr-dnin.urta. See Michael C.
Astour, “Kingdom of Siyannu-Ušnatu,” UF 11 (1979): 13–28, esp. 21; Nadav
Naʾaman, “On Gods and Scribal Traditions in the Amarna Letters,” UF 22
(1990): 247–255, esp. 254.
48. Name of a centurion: TAD C3.13:54 (ca. 410 BCE); C3.15:20 (400 BCE); C4.4:11
(ca. 420 BCE; reading uncertain, see also Cowley, Aramaic Papyri, no. 12).
49. TAD D11.12:1 (jar).
50. TAD A3.4:3 (last quarter fifth century BCE); D9.10:5 (mid-fifth century BCE).
51. TAD B3.2:11 (451 BCE).
52. TAD B3.2:11 (451 BCE). For this Akkadian name and its meaning, see Johann
Jakob Stamm, Die akkadische Namengebung (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1939), 219;
CAD 8, s.v. “kas.āru,” 1e1′.
53. TAD D1.1:8 (ca. 500 BCE; reading uncertain); B2.1:18 (471 BCE). In later texts,
“Nabu-kudurri” occurs as the name of a battalion commander. See TAD B3.12:3
(402 BCE); B3.13:2 (402 BCE); B4.5:2 (407 BCE); B4.6:2 (400 BCE); B7.2:3
(401 BCE).
54. TAD C4.8:8. Pierre Grelot suggests reading this as Nabu-nura-l[umur], “Nabu-
may-I-see-the-light” (Documents araméens d’Égypte [LAPO 5; Paris: Cerf,
1972], 279).
55. TAD A2.3:14 (ca. 500 BCE); A3.1:3, second letter 4, 6 (first half fifth century
BCE); B2.8:11, 12 (440 BCE); D1.1:8 (ca. 500 BCE; reading uncertain); D9.10:4
(mid-fifth century BCE). The Nabu-natan mentioned in B2.8:11, 12 (440
BCE) is from a scribal family. See Eleonora Cussini, “The Career of Some
Elephantine and Murašû Scribes and Witnesses,” in In the Shadow of Bezalel:
Aramaic, Biblical, and Ancient Near Eastern Studies in Honor of Bezalel Porten
(ed. Alejandro F. Botta; CHANE 60; Leiden: Brill, 2013), 39–52, esp. 51.
56. TAD B2.8:12, 13 (440 BCE).
57. TAD B2.2:19 (464 BCE).
58. TAD A2.1:2, 15; A2.2:2, 6 (ca. 500 BCE).
59. TAD D11.12:2 (jar, twice; name of a centurion; first half fifth century BCE).
60. TAD B3.9:11 (416 BCE); C3.14:2 (400 BCE). For the name and its meaning,
see Stamm, Die akkadische Namengebung, 187; CAD 17.1, s.v. “šalāmu,” esp. 7a3′.
In B4.4:8 (483 BCE), the same name occurs under the form nbwšlw. For an-
other instance of confusion between vav and mem in personal names, compare
the spelling šwš for šmš, “Shamash,” in C3.14:13.
61. TAD B2.11:14 (410 BCE; from a scribal family). See Bezalel Porten, Archives from
Elephantine: The Life of an Ancient Jewish Military Colony (Berkeley: University
of California Press, 1968), 237 n. 7.
62. TAD B2.3:28 (460 BCE); B2.4:16 (460 BCE); B2.11:14 (410 BCE; from a scribal
family). See Porten, Archives from Elephantine, 237 n. 7.
63. Name of a battalion commander: TAD B2.9:2 (420 BCE); B3.6:2 (427 BCE);
B3.8:2 (420 BCE); B6.1:2 (446 BCE); B7.1:2 (413 BCE); D2.6:2 (second half
fifth century BCE). For another Iddin-Nabu, see TAD D7.40:8 (first quarter
fifth century BCE).
64. TAD A3.1, second letter 1 (first half fifth century BCE; read [m]⌈š⌉zbnbw);
D3.39b:4 (second half fifth century BCE). Note the absence of Shezib-
DN names in the Akkadian onomasticon, as opposed to the popularity of
Mushezib-DN names. See the index to Stamm, Die akkadische Namengebung.
65. For the reference to a man who was “servant of Nabu the god” (ʿbd nbw ʾlhʾ), see
TAD B8.4:7 (431 BCE).
66. TAD C3.8, scroll IIIA:12. For the name and its meaning, see Stamm, Die akka-
dische Namengebung, 154; CAD 2, s.v. “balāt.u,” 6a4′.
67. TAD A6.2:23, 28 (name of a scribe in the office of the Persian satrap).
68. TAD C4.2, frag. a:2 (mid-fifth century BCE).
69. TAD C4.9 ii 2.
70. TAD D22.30 (493 BCE).
71. TAD C3.8, scroll IIIB:28 (Memphis shipyard journal).
72. TAD B8.4:1 (431 BCE).
73. Judge, TAD B8.4:1, 13 (431 BCE).
74. TAD C3.6:10 = Segal, Aramaic Texts, no. 47, ii 5 (first half fifth century BCE).
For this name, see the comments by Segal, Aramaic Texts, 67 n. 11.
75. See Jan Dušek and Jana Mynářová, “Phoenician and Aramaic Inscriptions from
Abusir,” in In the Shadow of Bezalel: Aramaic, Biblical, and Ancient Near East-
ern Studies in Honor of Bezalel Porten (ed. Alejandro F. Botta; CHANE 60;
Leiden: Brill, 2013), 53–69, esp. 67–69, where the reading mnknʿn must be cor-
rected to mnknbw.
76. For the meaning of this adjective, see CAD 2, s.v. “banû.” For a reference to
Nanay as bānītu, see the Nanaya Hymn of Sargon II in Alasdair Living-
stone, Court Poetry and Literary Miscellanea (SAA 3; Helsinki: Helsinki
University Press, 1989), no. 4, verso, col. ii, lines 13′–14′: “Hear, O world, the
praise of Queen Nanaya! Exalt the beautiful one (bānītu), magnify the reso-
nant one!”
77. See Knut L. Tallqvist, Neubabylonisches Namenbuch zu den Geschäftsurkunden aus
der Zeit des Šamaššumukîn bis Xerxes (Helsinki: Societas Scientiarum Fennica,
1905), 21–22. For Banitu names in Neo-Assyrian texts, such as Ardi-Banitu,
129. Regarding the Aramean funerary practices in Egypt, Porten and Gee conclude
that “the Aramaic funerary material taken as a whole shows an adoption of
Egyptian burial practices and religious beliefs” (“Aramaic Funerary Practices,”
302). See also Günter Vittmann, “Arameans in Egypt,” in Wandering Arame-
ans: Arameans outside Syria (ed. Angelika Berlejung, Aren M. Maeir, and An-
dreas Schüle; LAOS 5; Wiesaden: Harrassowitz, 2017), 229–279, esp. 254–258.
130. Compare the almost standard invocation of Ptah in the so-called Hermopolis
letters, dispatched from Memphis to Syene and Thebes (TAD A2.1:2; A2.2:2;
A2.3:2; A2.4:2; A2.5:2; A2.6:1; D1.1:2), with the lack of any such invocation in
the letters that Hosea son of Natan sent from Memphis to Elephantine (A3.7;
A3.8; A3.9; presumably A4.2).
131. For the Khnum greeting formula, see TAD D7.21:3 (“I bless you by Yaho and
Khnum”). For Mibtahyah’s oath by the Egyptian goddess Sati, see TAD B2.8:5.
132. For a discussion of Ahutab and references to the occurrences of her name in
the ostraca, see Lozachmeur, La collection Clermont-Ganneau, 489–490.
133. The full lineage is Yedanyah son of Gemaryah son of Mahseyah son of Ye-
danyah son of Mahseyah. For Yedanyah son of Gemaryah, the great-grandson
of Yedanyah son of Mahseyah, see especially TAD A4.1:1; A4.2:1; A4.3:1, 12;
A4.4:7; A4.7:1 // A4.8:1; A4.10:1; B3.8:44; B3.11:20; C3.13:1–9; C3.15:124.
134. TAD C3.15:23 (400 BCE).
135. TAD B2.2:19.
136. TAD C3.15:6; B5.1:9; C3.15:111.
137. TAD B2.4:1–4 (495 BCE). Yezanyah son of Uriyah was the son of the Uriyah
who is mentioned in the ostraca in connection with sacrifices (Cl.-G. 17); liba-
tions (D7.9); and a tunic left in the temple (D7.18). Yezanyah lived in the house
next to Mibtahyah’s family (TAD B2.2:9–10 [464 BCE]).
138. TAD B2.6 (449 BCE). For the date, see Bezalel Porten, “The Aramaic Texts,”
in Porten et al., The Elephantine Papyri in English: Three Millennia of Cross-
Cultural Continuity and Change (2nd rev. ed.; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Lit-
erature, 2011), 75–275, esp. 178 n. 1.
139. See TAD C4.6:5 (400 BCE; Hanan son of Pa-Khnum); C4.4:2 (420 BCE; Har-
men son of Osea); cf. C3.15:4 (Hosea son of Harmen). For the Egyptian name,
see Wolfgang Röllig, “Neue phönizische und aramäische Krugaufschriften und
Ostraka aus Elephantine,” in The First Cataract of the Nile: One Region, Diverse
Perspectives (ed. Dietrich Raue, Stephan J. Seidlmayer, and Philipp Speiser;
SDAIK 36; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2013), 185–203, pls 32–41, esp. 194. Also see TAD
B2.2:17 (464 BCE) and Cl.-G. 177 (Hosea son of Pete-Khnum); A4.4:5 (ca.
410 BCE; Isireshwet wife of Hosea); D3.17:10 (Mauzyah son of Pawesi and
Menahem son of Pawesi); cf. C4.4:6; C3.15:82; D3.17:10; C3.15:84 (400 BCE;
Menahemet daughter of Anani son of Es-Ptah); Cl.-G. 96 (Yedanyah son
of Pa-Khnum); Cl.-G. 143 (Yigdal son of Psamy); B5.3:9 (Zekaryah son of
Psamy); D9.10 (mid-fifth century BCE; Ananyah son of Psamishek).
140. TAD B3.10:10; 3.11:6. In TAD B3.7:8, Hor is referred to more generally as a
“servant” (ʿbd) of Khnum.
141. TAD B2.7:15. Arthur Cowley reads “son of Palt.o priest of the gods Khnum
and Sati” (Aramaic Papyri, 40, commentary to line 15). The reading “Harwoz
son of Palto” goes back to TAD B2.7:15. Since “Harwoz” (Horus-prospers) is
a good Egyptian name, the reconstruction of “the god Khnum” is plausible,
also in view of the proximity of the temple of Khnum. For the meaning of
the name “Harwoz” and other occurrences, see Lozachmeur, La collection
Clermont-Ganneau, 496.
142. TAD B2.1:13; B2.2:10–11.
143. See Cary J. Martin, “The Demotic Texts,” in Bezalel Porten et al., The Ele-
phantine Papyri in English: Three Millennia of Cross-Cultural Continuity and
Change (2nd rev. ed.; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2011), no. C27,
line 1; Günter Dreyer, “Katarakt(e),” LÄ 3:356–358; S. Steve Vinson, The Nile
Boatmen at Work (Müncher ägyptologische Studien 48; Mainz: von Zabern,
1998), 112.
144. See Cl.-G. 203, 220. For other references and discussion, see Lozachmeur, La
collection Clermont-Ganneau, 494–495.
145. Pakhoi and Pamet lived next to the gardener of Khnum, facing the house of
Ananyah and his family (TAD B3.12:20).
146. Note the Aramaic expression ʾlpy ʿbwrʾ (TAD D7.2:4 = Cl.-G. 169:4), mean-
ing “ferryboats,” rather than “grain boats,” contra Lozachmeur, La collection
Clermont-Ganneau, 320. The term ʿbwrʾ goes back to the root ʿbr (to cross),
not to the Sumerian ebur, via Akkadian ebūru (harvest, crop).
147. For Jewish business contacts with the Arameans, see TAD A3.8:9 (Bethel-
taden); A4.2:11 (Passu son of Mannuki).
148. TAD B2.11 (410 BCE).
149. The name “Zakkur son of Meshullam” occurs twice in Lozachmeur, La collec-
tion Clermont-Ganneau, Join 9 (= Cl.-G. 221+231+X1). His grandson Zakkur
son of Meshullam is identified as the grandson of Zakkur son of Ater in TAD
B2.7:3. Ater (ʾt. r) is a nickname meaning “hunchback.” See Noth, Die israeliti-
schen Personennamen, 227.
150. TAD B2.7:3 (house sale); B3.1 (loan, 456 BCE).
151. For Yedanyah’s nickname “Didi,” see TAD C4.6:14 (400 BCE).
152. TAD B3.3.
153. TAD B3.9; cf. C4.6:14.
154. See TAD D7.9:3–5: “Morover, take care of our Tetosiri. Let them mark her
(yktbwh) on her arm above the writing that is (already) on her arm.”
155. See TAD B2.1:18–19 (471 BCE); B2.2:19 (464 BCE; Syene); B2.8:13 (440 BCE;
Syene); B3.2:11–14 (451 BCE; Syene [?]); B3.9:10–12 (416 BCE; Syene); B4.2:12
(487 BCE); B4.3:22–24 (483 BCE); B4.4:19–21 (483 BCE).
156. The term is h.ylʾ swnknʾ. See TAD C3.14:32.
165. See, e.g., TAD B3.13:1–2 (“Anani son of Haggai son of Meshullam, a Jew of
the battalion of Nabu-kudurri, said to Pa-Khnum son of Besa, an Aramean of
Syene of that battalion also, saying . . .”).
166. See TAD B4.4:6, 10 // B4.3:9 (483 BCE; Bethel-taqum and Nabu-shalew);
Lozachmeur, La collection Clermont-Ganneau, X2 (first quarter fifth century
BCE; Nabu-shezib); C4.4:11 (ca. 420 BCE; Nabu-ʿaqab; for the reading, see
Cowley, Aramaic Papyri, 36); C3.13:54 (after 411 BCE; Nabu-ʿaqab); C3.15:20
(400 BCE; Nabu-ʿaqab); C3.15:19 (400 BCE; Sin-iddin).
167. See Stephanie Dalley, “Yahweh in Hamath in the 8th Century BC: Cunei-
form Material and Historical Deductions,” VT 40 (1990): 21–32; Ziony Zevit,
“Yahweh Worship and Worshippers in 8th-Century Syria,” VT 41 (1991): 363–
366. Dalley and Zevit appear to have been unaware that they were recycling,
in a slightly different form, an idea already formulated in the early twentieth
century. See Hermann Gunkel, Genesis (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Rup-
recht, 1917), 54. On the two Ya’u names, see John D. Hawkins, “Izrijau,” RlA
5:227; “Jau-biʾdi,” RlA 5:272–273.
17. Tawny L. Holm, Aramaic Literary Texts (WAW; Atlanta: SBL Press, forthcom-
ing). The manuscript of the present monograph was finished before Holm’s
volume came out.
18. See Karel van der Toorn, Papyrus Amherst 63 (AOAT 448; Münster: Ugarit-
Verlag, 2018).
19. Readers should be aware of the fact that in Steiner’s count, there are only twenty-
two columns. Following the interpretation offered in the 1901 photographs of
the papyrus, now in the collections of the Oriental Institute of the University
of Chicago, Steiner distinguishes between column iv(a) and iv(b). Most other
scholars of the papyrus, including Wesselius and Holm, identify column iv(b)
as column v. The contents of the text show that they are right.
20. The scribes signal the end of a composition with the words sak pĕrāšāʾ, “end of
section” (see, e.g., Papyrus Amherst 63, xiv 17, xv 4). The normal sign marking
the end of one composition and the transition to another is sp, “end,” possibly
an abbreviation for sak pĕrāšāʾ. See Sven P. Vleeming and Jan Willem Wesse-
lius, “Betel the Saviour: Papyrus Amherst 63, col. 7:1–18,” JEOL 28 (1983–1984):
110–140, esp. 136.
21. See Richard C. Steiner, “The Aramaic Text in Demotic Script: The Liturgy of
a New Year’s Festival Imported from Bethel to Syene by Exiles from Rash,”
JAOS 111 (1991): 362–363; Steiner, “Papyrus Amherst 63,” 206–207.
22. For references to Bethel in the Syrian section, see Papyrus Amherst 63, vi 22; viii
13; ix 9, 13; x 9. For references to Bethel as “the Lord,” see vi 1; vii 2, 7, 8, 12, 13;
viii 2, 8, 10, 11, 12, 14, 15, 20, 22; ix 1, 8, 11, 16, 20 (twice); x 3, 8, 10, 15, 17, 20, 23; xi
1, 2, 5, 6, 13, 15, 16, 17, 19. For references to “the God of Rash,” see vi 15; vii 7, 11;
ix 3, 16, 18 (twice), 20; x 15, 22; xi 6, 14. For the titles “the Resident of Hamath”
and “the Guardian of Siyan,” see ix 6, 10 and x 14 and parallels, respectively.
23. For Nanay, see Papyrus Amherst 63, iv 17; v 9 (twice), 11, 14. For Nabu, see iii 1,
12. For the title “Queen of Heaven,” see ii 11.
24. See especially Papyrus Amherst 63, xvi 3–4; xvi 4–12; xvii 17–19.
25. For the Hermopolis letters, see Edda Bresciani and Murad Kamil, Le lettere
aramaiche di Hermopoli (Atti della Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei, Memorie
8/12.5; Rome: Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei, 1966), reedited as TAD A2.1–
2.7; D1.1. Most of the documents from Memphis (Saqqara) are published in
Noël Aimé-Giron, Textes araméens d’Égypte (Cairo: Imprimerie de l’Institut
Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 1931); Judah B. Segal, Aramaic Texts from
North Saqqâra (London: Egypt Exploration Society, 1983). Many of them
have been reedited in TAD (see the concordances there), but note Günter
Vittmann’s observation that “only some [of the texts published by Segal] have
been incorporated in TAD” (“Arameans in Egypt,” in Wandering Arameans:
Arameans outside Syria [ed. Angelika Berlejung, Aren M. Maeir, and Andreas
Schüle; LAOS 5; Wiesaden: Harrassowitz, 2017], 253 and n. 142).
26. See the temple greetings in TAD A2.1:1; 2.2:1; 2.3:1; 2.4:1.
27. For the meaning of the adjective, see CAD 2, s.v. “banû.” For a reference to
Nanay as bānītu, see the Nanaya Hymn of Sargon II in Alasdair Livingstone,
Court Poetry and Literary Miscellanea (SAA 3; Helsinki: Helsinki University
Press, 1989), no. 4, verso, col. ii, lines 13′–14′: “Hear, O world, the praise of
Queen Nanaya! Exalt the beautiful one (bānītu), magnify the resonant one!”
“Banitu” occurs regularly in Neo-Babylonian personal names, especially among
women. Such names as “Banitu-dannat” (Banitu-is-strong), “Banitu-et.irat”
(Banitu-saves), and “Banitu-ramat” (Banitu-is-elevated) leave no doubt about
the use of “Banitu” as the name of a deity. See Knut L. Tallqvist, Neubaby-
lonisches Namenbuch zu den Geschäftsurkunden aus der Zeit des Šamaššumukîn
bis Xerxes (Helsinki: Societas Scientiarum Fennica, 1905), 21–22. For Banitu
names in Neo-Assyrian texts (such as “Ardi-Banitu,” “Banitu-bel-us.ri,” and
“Banitu-eresh”), see Claude H. W. Johns, Assyrian Deeds and Documents
(4 vols.; Cambridge: Deighton Bell, 1901), 3:34–35. A comparison between
the names “Nanay-bel-us.ri” (Nanay-protect-the-lord) and “Banitu-bel-us.ri”
(Banitu-protect-the-lord), on the one hand, and “Nanay-kilīli-us.ri” (Nanay-
protect-my-wreath) and “Banitu-agâ-us.ri” (Banit-protect-the-crown), on
the other, are suggestive of the close correspondence between Nanay and Ba-
nitu. For the names “Nanay-bel-us.ri” and “Nanay-kilīli-us.ri” (four times), see
Tallqvist, Neubabylonisches Namenbuch, 159a. For the names “Banitu-bel-us.ri”
and “Banitu-agâ-us.ri,” see Tallqvist, Neubabylonisches Namenbuch, 21b. See also
CAD 8, s.v. “kilīlu A,” 1d.
28. See Walter Kornfeld,Onomastica Aramaica aus Ägypten (Vienna: Österreichische
Akademie der Wissenschapften, 1978); Michael H. Silverman, Religious Values
in the Jewish Proper Names at Elephantine (AOAT 217; Kevelaer: Butzon &
Bercker; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1985).
29. The Aramaic expression is dr h.mt. See Papyrus Amherst 63, ix 6, 10.
30. The Aramaic expression is h.rd syn. See Papyrus Amherst 63, x 14 and paral-
lels. For the interpretation, see Sven P. Vleeming and Jan Willem Wesselius,
Studies in Papyrus Amherst 63: Essays on the Aramaic Text in Aramaic/Demotic
Papyrus Amherst 63 (2 vols.; Amsterdam: Juda Palache Instituut, 1985–1990),
2:40; Ingo Kottsieper, “Anmerkungen zu Pap Amherst 63, I, Teil II–V,” UF 29
(1997 [1998]): 385–434, esp. 408–409. The alternative interpretation “(May he
guard) our rear/loins” (Steiner, Holm) fails to catch the parallelism between
“the Guardian of Siyan” and “the God of Rash.” For a discussion, see Van der
Toorn, Papyrus Amherst 63, 147–148.
31. See Michael C. Astour, “The Kingdom of Siyannu-Ušnatu,” UF 11 (1979): 13–28;
Wilfred van Soldt, “Studies in the Topography of Ugarit (2): The Borders
of Ugarit,” UF 29 (1997): 683–703, esp. 701–703; Trevor Bryce, The Routledge
Handbook of the Peoples and Places of Ancient Western Asia: The Near East from the
Early Bronze Age to the Fall of the Persian Empire (London: Routledge, 2009),
658; Van Soldt, “Sijannu,” RlA 12:480–428.
32. Written as either kur or uru Si-an-nu /Si-a-nu. See Hayim Tadmor, The In-
scriptions of Tiglath-Pileser III King of Assyria ( Jerusalem: Israel Academy of
Sciences and Humanities, 1994), 60–61 (Annals 19*:5); 66–67 (Annals 13*:6);
102–103 (Stele II B 10′, with commentary); 148–149 (Summary Inscription
5, II 18).
33. For the Zakkur inscription, with references to previous literature, see K. Lawson
Younger Jr., A Political History of the Arameans (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2016),
476–481.
34. For the text, see Papyrus Amherst 63, vii 1–18.
35. Papyrus Amherst 63, x 13–17 (// x 21–24; xi 6–8; xi 13–16).
36. The Aramaic term is mnbt, related to Akkadian munnabtu, “fugitive, refugee” (see
CAD 10.2, s.v. “munnabtu”). Steiner’s suggestion to understand it as .t mn ʾbd,
“He shelters those perishing” (“Aramaic Text in Demotic Script: Text,” 35 and
elsewhere) is hard to reconcile with the writing dmm2nbʾt (the Demotic signs
representing Aramaic d mnbt, “of the fugitives”) in Papyrus Amherst 63, xi 16.
37. See Papyrus Amherst 63, xi 8–13.
38. Papyrus Amherst 63, vi 1–5.
39. For the conquest and sack of Hamath, see John David Hawkins, “Hamath,”
RlA 4:67–70, esp. 69. For the Zakkur inscription, with references to previous
literature, see Younger, Political History, 476–481.
40. See Papyrus Amherst 63, xii 11–19; xiii 1–10; xiii 11–17.
41. For a detailed study of the history of the text, see Karel van der Toorn, “Psalm
20 and Amherst Papyrus 63, XII, 11–19: A Case Study of a Text in Transit,” in
Le-maʿan Ziony: Essays in Honor of Ziony Zevit (ed. Frederick E. Greenspahn
and Gary A. Rendsburg; Eugene, Ore.: Cascade, 2017), 244–259.
42. On the basis of the orthography of yhh as a free variant of yhw, the divine name
was presumably pronounced “Yaho.” See Weippert, Historisches Textbuch, 477.
43. The name “Yaho” occurs in Papyrus Amherst 63, xii 11, 14 (twice), 15 (twice), 17;
xiii 6, 7, 11, 12, 13, 14, 16 (twice), 17. For “Adonai,” see xii 12, 16; xiii 3, 4, 8, 12, 14.
44. Two clear illustration are the forms nzbh., “we will sacrifice,” for ndbh. (Papyrus
Amherst 63, xiii 2) and m(y), “who,” for mn (xiii 11–12; three times).
45. See Karel van der Toorn, “Celebrating the New Year with the Israelites: Three
Extrabiblical Psalms from Papyrus Amherst 63,” JBL 136 (2017): 657–673.
46. See 1 Samuel 1, 9–10, 20.
47. Papyrus Amherst 63, xii 16–18. The text uses the term tr, “Bull,” the Aramaic
equivalent of the Hebrew šôr.
48. For the Kuntillet ʿAjrud pithos 1, with reference to secondary literature, see Jo-
hannes Renz and Wolfgang Röllig, Handbuch der althebräischen Epigraphik (2
vols.; Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2016), 1:61. For the bib-
lical evidence, see Exodus 32 and 1 Kgs 12:25–33. For the expression “Calf of Sa-
maria,” see Hos 8:5, 6; 10:5. Compare also the personal name ʿglyh, “Calf-(of-)
Yaho,” from Samaria Ostracon 41.
73. Steiner, “Aramaic Text in Demotic Script: Liturgy,” 362–363; Steiner, “Papyrus
Amherst 63: A New Source,” 205. Tawny Holm follows Steiner. See Holm,
“Nanay and Her Lover,” 28.
74. For Rashu near Elam, see Simo Parpola, “Rāši/u,” RlA 11:255–256.
75. For references to Elam (ʿylm), see Papyrus Amherst 63, xi 18; xvi 15. In xvi 10,
there is a reference to a “vessel from Anshan” (mn d ʾnšn), Anshan being a city
in Elam.
76. For references to Rash, see Papyrus Amherst 63, i 14; iv 10, 13; vi 12 (twice); vii 7,
13; viii 2, 8 (twice), 15, 16; ix 3, 14, 16; x 1; xi 1, 3, 8, 9, 10, 16; xii 13; xiv 2, 18; xvi 4,
17; xvii 15.
77. The name occurs in the Demotic spellings ʾlhrʾrʾšʾH (Papyrus Amherst 63, vi 15;
ix 3); ʾlhrʾr2šʾH (vii 7); ʾlhrršʾH (vii 11; xi 6); ʾlhrʾšʾH (ix 16, 18 [twice]); ʾlhršH
(ix 20); ʾlhʾršʾH (x 15); ʾlhršH (x 22); ʾlhʾr2ʾšʾH (xi 14). Especially the occurrence
of the multiconsonantal sign hr and the reduplication of the resh convey the
impression of its being a stock epithet.
78. In Papyrus Amherst 63, xi 3, there is a reference to “Rash, the land (mt) of our
God.” This must have been the “land” (mt) in which trembling dwelled and
whose “towns” or “cities” (qryk, “your cities”) had been destroyed (vi 2). In the
dream that one song describes, a man is transported back to Rash and there
descries a city (qry): “I spotted a city in Rash” (xi 9). Another song refers to
Rash as “the land” (ʾrq) that Bethel loves (viii 15–16).
79. Papyrus Amherst 63, ix 16 (bnt rš).
80. See Papyrus Amherst 63, vii 13; xvi 17.
81. See DNWSI, s.v. “drg”; cf. Akkadian daraggu (see CAD 3, s.v. “duruggu” [“moun-
tain path”]) and durgu (see CAD 3, s.v. “durgu”). For the metaphorical use of
rʾš, “head,” see Edouard Dhorme, L’emploi métaphorique des noms de parties du
corps en hébreu et akkadien (Paris: Geuthner, 1963), 22.
82. Papyrus Amherst 63, x 9 (dr .t ryʾ).
83. Papyrus Amherst 63, xi 1.
84. Papyrus Amherst 63, viii 15–19.
85. See Manfred Weippert, “Libanon,” RlA 6:641–650, esp. §5.
86. Compare also Herbert Niehr, “Die Wohnsitze des Gottes El nach den My-
then aus Ugarit,” in Das biblische Weltbild und seine altorientalischen Kontexte
(ed. Bernd Janowski and Beate Ego; Forschungen zum Alten Testament 32;
Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001), 325–360, esp. 330–339. Niehr makes the case
that the Jebel Ansariya was the abode of El according to the Ugaritic texts. For
a possible reference to Rash outside the Amherst papyrus, see Rainer Degen,
“Die aramäischen Inschriften aus Taimāʾ und Umgebung,” in Neue Ephemeris
für Semitische Epigraphik (ed. Rainer Degen, Walter W. Müller, and Wolfgang
Röllig; 3 vols.; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1972–1978), 2:79–98 and tables VII–
VIII, esp. 87–88 no. 6. This votive stele reads lph.wr zy ršh, which Degen trans-
lates as “(belonging) to the potter of Rasha.” Whether ph.wr refers to a potter is
not certain. The word could be a calque upon Ugaritic phr and Akkadian puhru,
˘ ˘
“assembly,” frequently used in the phrase phr ilm or puhur ilī, “assembly of the
˘ ˘
gods.” The text might be a dedication “to the (divine) assembly of Rash.”
87. See the classic presentation by Michael Rostovtzeff, Caravan Cities: Petra, Jerash,
Palmyra, Dura (trans. D. Talbot Rice and T. Talbot Rice; Oxford: Clarendon;
New York: Oxford University Press, 1932).
88. See Jean Starcky and Michael Gawlikowski, Palmyre (2nd ed.; Paris: Adrien
Maisonneuve, 1985), 57–72.
89. Note also the oracle for a king in section four of Papyrus Amherst 63, xvi 1–3.
90. Josephus, Ant. 8.153–154 (Whiston).
91. See Michael P. Streck, “Palmyra,” RlA 10:292–293. For variant spellings, see Dan-
iel Arnaud, Recherches au pays d’Aštata: Emar VI (4 vols.; Paris: Éditions Re-
cherche sur les Civilisations, 1985–1987), vol. 3, no. 21:16, 18 (“Tadmer”); Francis
Joannès, “Palmyre et les routes du désert au début du deuxième millénaire av.
J.-C.,” MARI 8 (1997): 393–415 (“Tadmir”); Ernst Weidner, “Die Feldzüge und
Bauten Tiglatpilesers I.,” Archiv für Orientforschung 18 (1957–1958): 342–360,
reedited by A. Kirk Grayson, Assyrian Rulers of the Early First Millennium
BC (1114–859 BC) (RIMA 2; Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1991), 34
A.0.87:4, lines 34–36; 37. A.0.87.3, lines 29–35 (“Tadmar”).
92. See 1 Kgs 9:18, where the name of the city is written as tmr (“palm, place of
palms”), to be pronounced, according to the masoretic signs added to the text,
as “Tadmor.”
93. The meaning “fortress, watch-post,” is based on the root dmr, “to protect, guard.”
See DUL, s.v. “/ḏ-m-r/ (I)” and the etymology section there. For the word tmr,
“date palm,” in the Semitic languages, see HALAT, s.v. “tāmār I”; John Hueh-
nergard, Ugaritic Vocabulary in Syllabic Transcription (Harvard Semitic Studies
32; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987), 185; DNWSI, s.v. “tmr”; DQA, s.v. “tmrh”;
DJBA, s.v. “tĕmartāʾ, tûmartāʾ, pl. tamrê”; Sokoloff, s.v. “tmartāʾ.”
94. Papyrus Amherst 63, xvi 7 (h.ls. tmr).
95. See Jacob Hoftijzer, Religio Aramaica (Leiden: Ex Oriente Lux, 1968), 27; Javier
Teixidor, The Pantheon of Palmyra (Études préliminaires aux religions orien-
tales dans l’Empire romain 79; Leiden: Brill, 1979), 1–11, esp. 1; Starcky and
Gawlikowski, Palmyre, 90–92.
96. On the name “Yamūt-Bāl” (written ba-la), see Albrecht Goetze, “Sumu-
Yamūtbāl, a Local Ruler of the Old-Babylonian Period,” Journal of Cuneiform
Studies 4 (1950): 65–72, esp. 72.
97. Papyrus Amherst 63, ix 21 (“Howl and [mo]an to Bol: ‘Bol, have mercy, have
compassion! [Shake off ] the sleep that is upon you!’”).
98. See Papyrus Amherst 63, xv 7 (mr bʾl).
99. See Adnan Bounni, “Nabu palmyrénien,” Orientalia 45 (1976): 46–52; Paul
Collart and Jacques Vicari, Le sanctuaire de Baalshamîn à Palmyre (Rome: In-
stitut Suisse de Rome, 1969).
100. See Harald Ingholt, Henri Seyrig, and Jean Starcky, eds., Recueil de tessères de
Palmyre (Paris: Imprimerie nationale, Geuthner, 1955), nos. 134 (“Symposium
of Bel and Herta and Nanay”); 238 (“Herta Nanay”); 240 (“Herta and Nanay”),
241 (“Herta Nanay”); 242 (“Herta and Nanay”); PAT, no. 2766 (priests of Herta
have erected a statue for PN because of his beneficence “for Herta and Nanay
and Resheph the gods”). See also PAT, s.v. “nny.”
101. For Baʿaltak at Palmyra, see the references in PAT s.v. “bʿltk.” “Baʿaltak” is a
fossilized form of the unattested reconstruction “Baʿalat-Ayak” and is not to
be interpreted as “Your Lady,” contra Jozef Tadeusz Milik, Dédicaces faites par
des dieux (Paris: Geuthner, 1972), 174–175.
102. For the expression mrt ʾyk or mrtʾ dy ʾyk, see Papyrus Amherst 63, i 4, 15; iii 1,
12–13; iv 1, 14; v 2. Note the variant in viii 6. For Bēlat-ayakki, see the references
in CAD 1.1, s.v. “ajakku,” b; and Rintje Frankena, Tākultu (Leiden: s.n., 1953),
80. See Hoftijzer, Religio Aramaica, 46–47.
103. For Herta (written h.rtʾ), see Ingholt, Seyrig, and Starcky, Recueil de tes-
sères, no. 133 (“Symposium of Bel and Herta”); no. 134 (“Symposium of Bel
and Herta and Nanay”); no. 238 (“Herta Nanay”); no. 239 (“Herta”); no. 240
(“Herta and Nanay”); no. 241 (“Herta Nanay”); no. 242 (“Herta and Nanay”).
Also see PAT, no. 2766 (priests of Herta have erected a statue for NN because
of his beneficence “for Herta and Nanay and Resheph the gods”).
104. See Papyrus Amherst 63, x 4.
105. For Shalmat, see Hoftijzer, Religio Aramaica, 44 n. 118; Teixidor, Pantheon of
Palmyra, 84–85. There are two votive inscriptions (see PAT, nos. 2752, 2783),
plus the occurrence of šlm as a theophoric element in personal names from
Palmyra. See André Caquot, “Remarques linguistiques sur les inscriptions
des tessères de Palmyre,” in Recueil de tessères de Palmyre (ed. Harald Ingholt,
Henri Seyrig, and Jean Starcky; Paris: Imprimerie nationale, Geuthner, 1955),
139–203, esp.178.
106. See Papyrus Amherst 63, ix 16, 20.
107. The meaning of the name “Yarhi-Bol” is contested. Scholars have traditionally
interpreted it as “Moon of Bol,” which made little sense since Yarhi-Bol is a
sun god. In light of the chorus to the sun in Papyrus Amherst 63, xvi 12–13 //
17–19, yrh. should be interpreted on the basis of Akkadian yarahhu, “gold.” See
˘˘
Karel van der Toorn, Papyrus Amherst 63 (AOAT 448; Münster: Ugarit-Verlag,
2018), 198.
108. Note the reference to “Yarhibol, the good god, sacred stone of the source
(ms.bʾ dy ʿynʾ).” See PAT, no. 1099; Lucinda Dirven, The Palmyrenes of Dura-
Europos (Religions in the Graeco-Roman World 138; Leiden: Brill, 1999),
233–235; cf. ms.b ʿynʾ, PAT, no. 0410:6.
109. See Papyrus Amherst 63, xiv 18–19: “On the chariot of the King of Rash, the
Bull, put a stele (skn)! On the throne, on the throne of the Bull-of-Babylon,
our guard.”
110. The Aramaic term is ʾytn, variant ʾytm, see Papyrus Amherst 63, xiv 15; xvi 8,
9; see also the discussion in HALAT, s.v. “ʾêtān I” and compare the place name
ʾētām, a location in the desert (Exod 13:20; Num 33:6, 7, 8).
111. See especially Papyrus Amherst 63, xvi 13–17, and the discussion of Eshem-
Bethel in Chapter 5.
112. See Hoftijzer, Religio Aramaica, 38–40; PAT, s.vv. “ʾlh,” “bryk šmh lʿlmʾ,” “t.b,”
“skr,” “rh.mn.”
113. For “the Lord of the Throne” (mrʾ myt[bʾ]), see Michel Gawlikowski, Recueil
d’inscriptions Palmyréniennes (Paris: Imprimerie nationale, Klincksieck, 1974),
no. 145 = PAT, no. 1931. For the deified throne (mwtb) in Nabatean inscrip-
tions, see Hoftijzer, Religio Aramaica, 23; DNWSI, s.v. “mšb.” For the reference
to “Throne-of-Yaho” (krs yhw), see Papyrus Amherst 63, viii 7.
114. For the litany, see Papyrus Amherst 63, viii 5–6. On the identification of the
Ayakku with Eanna, see CAD 1.1, “ajakku.” For Assyrian worship of Nanaya
and Nabu, see Livingstone, Court Poetry, nos. 4–6, 9.
115. This is the so-called Psalm in Praise of Uruk. See Livingstone, Court Poetry,
no. 9.
116. For Nanay’s title mrt ʾyk or mrtʾ dy ʾyk, see Papyrus Amherst 63, i 4, 15; iii 1,
12–13; iv 1, 14; v 2. For “Bēlat-ayakki,” see Frankena, Tākultu, 80, no. 20; CAD
1.1, s.v. “ajakku.”
117. See Papyrus Amherst 63, xv 7.
118. The Aramaic expression is pr bbl. See Papyrus Amherst 63, xiv 19.
119. Papyrus Amherst 63, xiv 2–3, 18.
120. See Papyrus Amherst 63, xiv 16.
121. See Papyrus Amherst 63, xiv 5, 18–19.
122. See Wilfred G. Lambert, Babylonian Creation Myths (Winona Lake, Ind.:
Eisenbrauns, 2013), 275–277, 346–349.
123. See TAD B2.2:19 (hddnwry bblyʾ).
124. For the relevant Assurbanipal annals, with references to various prisms, see
Rykle Borger, Beiträge zum Inschriftenwerk Assurbanipals (Wiesbaden: Harras-
sowitz, 1996), 232–235. For studies of the parallels, see Ingo Kottsieper, “Die
literarische Aufnahme assyrischer Begebenheiten in frühen aramäischen Tex-
ten,” in La circulation des biens, des personnes et des idées dans le Proche-Orient an-
cien (ed. Dominique Charpin and Francis Joannès; Rencontre Assyriologique
Internationale 38; Paris: Éditions Recherche sur les Civilisations, 1992), 283–
289; Stephanie Dalley, “Assyrian Court Narratives in Aramaic and Egyptian:
Historical Fiction,” in Proceedings of Rencontre Assyriologique Internationale 45
(ed. Tzvi Abusch et al.; Bethesda, Md.: CDL, 2001), 149–162.
125. Note the repeated instructions to the Tartan (commander in chief ) to spare the
life of Shamshshumukin (Papyrus Amherst 63, xxi 18; xxii 8–9). According to
the report of the Tartan, he was not responsible for the death of Shamashshum-
ukin: “His own army burned him. They set fire to the house of the one who
controls heaven and earth,” thereby killing Shamashshumukin, who had made
Marduk’s temple his final place of refuge (Papyrus Amherst 63, xxiii 6–7).
126. See Papyrus Amherst 63, xviii 1–4.
127. Kottsieper, “Anmerkungen zu Pap Amherst 63,” 385–434, esp. 387–399.
128. See especially the descriptions in Papyrus Amherst 63, xxii–xxiii. The Assur-
banipal annals’ explicit denial of any harm done to the Babylonian citizens
suggests that there was something to deny.
129. See, e.g., Hoftijzer, Religio Aramaica, 26–33; Teixidor, Pantheon of Palmyra, 1–11;
Starcky and Gawlikowski, Palmyre, 90–92.
130. See PAT, s.vv. “nbw,” “nny,” “nrgl,” and “šmš I,” with references to the second-
ary literature. Note also Ingholt, Seyrig, and Starcky, Recueil de tessères, no. 285:
“Nanay (and) Shaknay, the saviors of Babylon” (nny škny šyʿt bbl). PAT, s.v.
“bbl,” translates “DN (and) DN, who accompany Babylon.”
131. See the survey of the theophoric names in Chapter 3, section “The Arameans
from Babylonia.” Note also the greeting by “Bel and Nabu, Shamash and Ner-
gal” in an Elephantine ostracon (TAD D7.30).
132. Note the insertion of the reference to Zion, the Anointed One, and the king,
and see Van der Toorn, “Psalm 20,” 253–254.
133. For the expression mʾbd ym, “Destroyer of Yamm,” see Papyrus Amherst 63,
viii 16. For descriptions of Bethel as a god of thunderstorms, see Papyrus Am-
herst 63, x 9; xi 4–5.
134. Vleeming and Wesselius find the conformity between the Tale of Two Broth-
ers and the Assyrian annals so striking that they conclude that “the story
underlying this text, if not the actual composition, must be dated quite close
to the events it describes, certainly not later than the sixth century BC” (Stud-
ies in Papyrus Amherst 63, 1:32).
135. Steiner, “Aramaic Text in Demotic Script: Liturgy,” 362–363.
136. See Papyrus Amherst 63, v 8 (brš šnn). Compare also the phrase mn šrw, “from
the beginning (of the year),” in one of the Israelite songs (xiii 12). For the in-
terpretation, see Vleeming and Wesselius, Studies in Papyrus Amherst 63, 1:75;
Sokoloff, s.v. “šry” in the pael; Jastrow, s.v. “šêrûy.”
137. For a translation of section 1 (columns i–v), see the Appendix. The descriptions
have more affinity with the references and allusions to the New Year rituals in
the older Mesopotamian texts than with the Babylonian Akitu festival as we
know it from first-millennium BCE texts. Compare, for instance, the Sumerian
Inanna Hymn of Ishme-Dagan from Isin (Thorkild Jacobsen, The Harps That
Once . . . : Sumerian Poetry in Translation [New Haven, Conn.: Yale University
Press, 1987], 112–124); the Old Babylonian Ishtar Hymn of Ammiditana (Ben-
jamin R. Foster, Before the Muses: An Anthology of Akkadian Literature [2 vols.;
Bethesda, Md.: CDL, 1993], 1:65–68); the Old Babylonian Nanay Hymn of
Samsuiluna (Foster, Before the Muses, 1:69–71); and the Old Babylonian love
lyrics of Nanay and Muati of Abieshuh (Foster, Before the Muses, 1:96–97).
138. See Van der Toorn, “Celebrating the New Year,” 657–673.
139. See Papyrus Amherst 63, xiv 1–2 (“Order cold for the desert!”); xvi 4 (“At sun-
set Haddu is strong”); xvi 6 (“Nabu . . . has adorned <you> with stars of gold”);
xvi 12–13 // 17–19.
140. See Papyrus Amherst 63, xvi 1–3; xvii 7–14.
141. For the stele (skn = sikkannu) on the chariot, see Papyrus Amherst 63, xiv 18–
19. For hints at the inauguration of the renovated temple, see especially xv 7–9.
142. See Papyrus Amherst 63, xv 2–3; xvi 10–12; xvii 6.
143. For the dedicatory text, see PAT, no. 1347. For comments, see Hoftijzer, Religio
Aramaica, 27; Han J. W. Drijvers, The Religion of Palmyra (Iconography of
Religions 15; Leiden: Brill, 1976), 9.
144. See Papyrus Amherst 63, viii 19–20 (“Our Master, we will set up your dwell-
ing. Please do come out, O Lord, and please enter the abode”); ix 9–10, 12–13.
145. See Bounni, “Nabu palmyrénien,” 46–52.
146. Steiner, on the contrary, claims to have found several references to Egypt. In
1991, he read one line of the text (Papyrus Amherst 63, x 17) as “raise up our
home, Syene (swynʾ)” (“Aramaic Text in Demotic Script: Liturgy,” 363), but
he abandoned this reading in his 1997 translation (“Aramaic Text in Demotic
Script,” COS 1.99:309–329). He finds two references to the Egyptian month
Epiph (= Tishri) (“Aramaic Text in Demotic Script: Liturgy,” 362 [ix 13; xvi
2, see there for commentary]) and a mention of “Horus and Osiris” in viii 7,
instead of “Yaho and Asherah” (COS 1.99:314). See also his interpretation of xi
1–6 as “a prayer for the rising of the Nile” (COS 1.99:316).
147. See, e.g., the Babyloniaca of Berossus, in Felix Jacoby, Die Fragmente der
griechischen Historiker (3 vols.; Leiden: Brill, 1958), 3.C.1, no. 680, esp. line 15.
See also the Letter of Aristeas 12–13 (“And even before this time large num-
bers of Jews had come with the Persians; and in an earlier period still others
had been sent to Egypt to help Psammetichus in his campaign against the
King of the Ethiopians”).
148. See Mordechai Cogan, “Sukkoth-Benoth,” DDD 821–822. Note also the ren-
dering of bĕnôt (Benoth) as Bainith in the Greek translation of the Hebrew
Bible (LXX).
149. Compare a fragmentary ostracon from Saqqara, written around 600 BCE,
which attests to the presence of an Aramaic-speaking community in Mem-
phis, see Aimé-Giron, Textes araméens d’Égypte, no. 2; Vittmann, “Arameans
in Egypt,” 253.
3. For a discussion of the Assyrian evidence, see Israel Ephʿal, The Ancient Arabs:
Nomads on the Borders of the Fertile Crescent 9th–5th Centuries B.C. ( Jerusalem:
Magnes, 1984), 93, 100, 159–164. On Arak (Greek Aracha, modern Erek), see
René Dussaud, Topographie historique de la Syrie antique et médiévale (Paris:
Geuthner, 1927), 247–322, chapter 5: “Palmyre et la Damascène”; Alois Musil,
Palmyrena (New York: American Geographical Society, 1928), esp. 86 n. 22;
Henri Seyrig, “L’incorporation de Palmyre à l’Empire romain,” Syria 13 (1932):
266–277, esp. 270; Michael Gawlikowski, “Palmyre et l’Euphratène,” Syria 60
(1983): 53–68.
4. See Papyrus Amherst 63, xvi 7: “To me, you have indeed conducted much booty
(bz sgy).” Also see xvi 11: “Divide, divide the fines imposed upon the enemy.
Divide the booty (bz)!”
5. See Jer 42:1–43:7. The prophecy about Pharaoh Hophra ( Jer 44:29–30) gives a
time frame for the Judean migration to Egypt. Hophra is to be identified with
Apries, who ruled from 589 to 570 BCE.
6. For the term “Pathros,” see David W. Baker and Donald B. Redford, “Pathros,”
ABD 5:178.
7. See Sylvie Honigman, “Jewish Communities in Hellenistic Egypt: Different
Responses to Different Environments,” in Jewish Identities in Antiquity: Stud-
ies in Memory of Menahem Stern (ed. Lee I. Levine and Daniel R. Schwartz;
TSAJ 130; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009), 117–135, esp. 120–125; Günter Vitt-
mann, “Arameans in Egypt,” in Wandering Arameans: Arameans outside Egypt
(ed. Angelika Berlejung, Aren M. Maeir, and Andreas Schüle; LAOS 5; Wies-
baden: Harrassowitz, 2017), 229–279, esp. 250–252.
8. See Philip Kaplan, “Cross-Cultural Contacts among Mercenary Communities
in Saite and Persian Egypt,” Mediterranean Historical Review 18 (2003): 1–31;
Kaplan, “Sojourner in the Land: The Resident Alien in Late Period Egypt,”
in Walls of the Prince: Egyptian Interactions with Southwest Asia in Antiquity:
Essays in Honour of John S. Holladay, Jr. (ed. Timothy P. Harrison, Edward B.
Banning, and Stanley Klassen; Leiden: Brill, 2015), 396–413. For the Phoeni-
cians, see Philip C. Schmitz, The Phoenician Diaspora: Epigraphic and Histori-
cal Studies (Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2012), 32–42, 43–53. There was a
Phoenician military colony at Memphis, according to Herodotus, Hist. 2.112
(Tyriōn stratópedon, “camp of the Tyrians”). For Arab soldiers, see Isaac Rabi-
nowitz, “Aramaic Inscriptions of the Fifth Century B.C.E. from a North-
Arab Shrine in Egypt,” JNES 15 (1956): 1–9; the texts have been reedited as
TAD D15.1–4.
9. See Serge Sauneron and Jean Yoyotte, “Une campagne nubienne,” Bulletin de
l’Institut français d’archéologie orientale 50 (1952): 157–207.
10. See, e.g., Kaplan, “Cross-Cultural Contacts.”
11. The Aramaic term for these wages is prs. See TAD A3.3:3–5.
12. For mercenaries in the south, see TAD A2.3.
13. Note the phrase “and it will be subtracted from their account in Syene.” For
the interpretation, see especially Pierre Grelot, Documents araméens d’Égypte
(LAPO 5; Paris: Cerf, 1972), 152 n. j.
14. See Hélène Lozachmeur, La collection Clermont-Ganneau: Ostraca, épigraphes sur
jarre, étiquettes de bois (Mémoires de l’Académie des Inscriptions et des Belles-
Lettres 35; Paris: de Boccard, 2006), X11.
15. TAD D7.9:10–12: “Moreover, when you hear (pl.) that they have started disburs-
ing salary (yhbn prs) in Syene, send word to me.” See also Lozachmeur, La
collection Clermont-Ganneau, Cl.-G. 170, cc 4–5: “Lo, with respect to the wages
(prs) of Yedanyah, I/you have been delayed.” See also Cl.-G. 235:11–14, with a
possible reference to prs in line 14.
16. See TAD B4.2:5–6 (ca. 487 BCE).
17. See, e.g., TAD B4.3 // B4.4. For a discussion of the texts and an estimation of the
size of the rations allotted, see Grelot, Documents araméens d’Égypte, 266–271.
For another example, see TAD C3.14.
18. For ʾws.r mlkʾ, “the royal treasury,” see TAD B3.13:4. For byt mlkʾ, “the royal
storehouse,” see TAD B5.5:8. The identity between “(royal) treasury” and “royal
storehouse” is implied by the phrase “at the royal storehouse (byt mlkʾ) and
before the scribes of the treasury (spry ʾws.rʾ)” (TAD B4.4:12). Furthermore, the
“salary” (prs), the normal term for mercenary wages, was paid out by “the royal
storehouse” (byt mlkʾ; B4.4:16) or “the treasury” (ʾws.rʾ; TAD B4.2:6)—appar-
ently the same place. The term for ration is ptpʾ. See TAD B3.13:5. For other
occurrences of ptp, “ration,” see TAD A6.9:2, 4, 5, 6; A6.12:1 (letters by Arsames
the satrap); D3.12 (fragment with a single word). The word ptp is an Aramaic
calque upon the Persian pithfa. See Jan Tavernier, Iranica in the Achaemenid Pe-
riod (ca. 550–330 B.C.): Lexicon of Old Iranian Proper Names and Loanwords, At-
tested in Non-Iranian Texts (OLA 158; Leuven: Peeters, 2007), 410, no. 4.4.3.15.
19. See TAD B5.5:8, 10.
20. Arthur Cowley, Aramaic Papyri of the Fifth Century B.C. (Oxford: Clarendon,
1923), 12.
21. See Christelle Fischer-Bovet, Army and Society in Ptolemaic Egypt (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2014), 118–123.
22. See TAD C3.14; B4.3 // 4.4.
23. See TAD A5.2. The Aramaic term for “field” or “land” is h.ql. See TAD A5.2:2, 4;
DNWSI, s.v. “h.ql.”
24. See TAD B2.9:7.
25. The first text is TAD B5.1, which employs the Aramaic term mnh, “share, por-
tion” (B5.1:3). For the expression hwh lhh.snw[th], see TAD B5.2:4.
26. For the interpretation of the Jewish soldiers as cleruchs, see also Eduard Meyer,
Der Papyrusfund von Elephantine: Dokumente einer jüdischen Gemeinde aus der
Perserzeit (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1912), 29; Hedwig Anneler, Zur Geschichte der
Juden von Elephantine (Bern: Max Drechsel, 1912), 59; Abraham Schalit and
55. See TAD C3.28:85 (“Yohanan the priest”), 113 (“Shelemyah the priest”), 114. For
an insightful discussion of the evidence, see Honigman, “Jewish Communi-
ties,” 121–123.
56. See Josephus, J.W. 7.420–425; Ant. 13.62–73.
57. See the observations in Reinhard G. Kratz, Historical and Biblical Israel: The His-
tory, Tradition, and Archives of Israel and Judah (trans. Paul Michael Kurtz;
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015), 137–147, esp. 143. Kratz may have over-
stated his case (“the situation at Elephantine would typify Judaism of the Per-
sian epoch, a standard manifestation not only in the Israelite-Samarian region
but also in Judah itself ”), but his argument against Elephantine being the
exception is valid.
58. See TAD D7.18:2–3 (byt yhh). For references to the temple in early papyri, see
TAD A3.3:1 ([b]yt yhw; Padua letter; second quarter fifth century BCE); D1.6,
frag. b (bʾgwrʾ; Padua letter; first half fifth century BCE); D4.9:1 ([by]t yhw;
first half fifth century BCE).
59. See DNWSI, s.v. “ʾgwr”; CAD 4, s.v. “ekurru A”; AHw, s.vv. “Ekur,” “ekurru.”
60. See TAD A4.7:9–13 // A4.8:8–12. For the archaeological remains of the temple,
see Cornelius von Pilgrim, “XII. Der Tempel des Jahwe,” MDAIK 55 (1999):
142–145.
61. The Aramaic expression is yhw ʾlhʾ škn yb byrtʾ, see TAD B3.12:2, see the vari-
ant yhw ʾlhʾ (zy) byb byrtʾ, see B3.3:2; B3.5:2; B3.10:2; B3.11:2. The expression
is reminiscent of the biblical phrase yhwh s.ĕbāʾôt haššōkēn bĕhar s.iyyôn and its
variants (see, e.g., Isa 8:18; Joel 4:17, 21). Compare also the expression “Nabu
residing forever in Syene,” nbw ytb tqmʾ bswn (TAD D18.1).
62. See the discussion in P. Kyle McCarter Jr., “Aspects of the Religion of the Is-
raelite Monarchy: Biblical and Epigraphic Data,” in Ancient Israelite Religion:
Essays in Honor of Frank Moore Cross (ed. Patrick D. Miller, Paul D. Hanson,
and S. Dean McBride; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987), 137–155, esp. 139–143.
63. Bezalel Porten argues that the Elephantine temple was oriented toward Jeru-
salem as a token of the abiding loyalty of the community to the sacred cen-
ter (“The Structure and Orientation of the Jewish Temple at Elephantine:
A Revised Plan of the Jewish District,” JAOS 81 [1961]: 38–42). See also Jörg
Frey, “Temple and Rival Temple: The Cases of Elephantine, Mt. Gerizim, and
Leontopolis,” in Gemeinde ohne Tempel/Community without Temple: Zur Subs-
tituierung und Transformation des Jerusalemer Tempels und seines Kults im Alten
Testament, antiken Judentum, und frühen Christentum (ed. Beate Ego, Armin
Lange, and Peter Pilhofer; Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen
Testament 118; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1999), 171–203. For a critique, see
Gard Granerød, Dimensions of Yahwism in the Persian Period: Studies in the Re-
ligion and Society of the Judean Community at Elephantine (BZAW 488; Berlin:
de Gruyter, 2016), 116–124.
64. See A. Leo Oppenheim, Ancient Mesopotamia: Portrait of a Dead Civilization
71. See TAD A4.5:3, 8 (Khnub); A4.7:5 // A4.8:4 (Khnub); A5.4:2 (Egyptian priest);
B2.7:15 (Khnum?); C3.5:11 (“the priests in the temples”); D5.10:2; D18.1:1
(Nabu); D18.2; D23.1 ii 9.
72. See Cary J. Martin, “The Demotic Texts,” in Bezalel Porten et al., The Elephan-
tine Papyri in English: Three Millennia of Cross-Cultural Continuity and Change
(2nd rev. ed.; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2011), 276–384, esp. 276–
287 and nos. 1–3.
73. See Brent Nongbri, Before Religion: A History of a Modern Concept (New Ha-
ven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 2013), and the more extended discussion in
Chapter 1, section “Jews or Judeans.”
74. See especially TAD A4.8:1.
75. See Eleonora Cussini, “Witnesses in Aramaic Legal Documents and Inscrip-
tions,” in Witnessing in the Ancient Near East: Proceedings of the Round Table
Held at the University of Verona (ed. Nicoletta Bellotto and Simonetta Ponchia;
Acta Sileni 2; Padua: Sargon, 2010), 191–224; Cussini, “The Career of Some
Elephantine and Murašû Scribes and Witnesses,” in In the Shadow of Bezalel:
Aramaic, Biblical, and Ancient Near Eastern Studies in Honor of Bezalel Porten
(ed. Alejandro F. Botta; CHANE 60; Leiden: Brill, 2013), 39–52.
76. An Akkadian wisdom text from Ugarit mentions the fee for the oath: šukun
kaspī ša māmīti itti ilī teleqqe, “Deposit the money for the oath: you will get it
back from the gods.” See Wilfred G. Lambert, Babylonian Wisdom Literature
(Oxford: Clarendon, 1960), 116, line 1.
77. The Aramaic expression is twb mn (TAD B7.1:5); cf. the parallel Akkadian ex-
pressions ištu māmīti târu and ašar ilāni târu (CAD 18, s.v. “târu,” 3d).
78. For the “oath of litigation,” mwmʾ nprt, see TAD B8.9:5 (a papyrus from Mem-
phis). For the oath as “a declaration by gods,” mqryʾ ʿl ʾlhn, see TAD B7.2:6.
For gods as witnesses of the oath, see the following expressions: “You swore
to me (ly) by Yaho (byhw) the god in Elephantine the fortress” (TAD B2.2:4);
“And an oath to him was imposed upon me, and I swore to him (lh)” (B2.3:24);
“Then an oath came upon you and you swore to me (ly) about them (ʿlyhm)
by Sati (bsty) the goddess” (B2.8:4–5); “[an oa]th to you (lk) by Yaho (byhw)
the god that [I] did not steal fish [from you]” (B7.1:4); “I will declare to you
(lk) upon (ʿl) Herem-Bethel the god” (B7.2:7–8); “Oath (mwm[ʾh] which PN
swore to (l) PN by (b) He[rem the go]d in the sanctuary and by (b) Anat-
Yaho” (B7.3:1–3).
79. See TAD B7.2:8, 10. The earlier translation of the term as “avengers” (Cowley,
Aramaic Papyri, 21, comments to no. 7, line 8) is based on the reading nqmn/
nqmyʾ. The new Porten/Yardeni edition of the text in TAD B7.2 has established
that the reading must be mqmn/mqmyʾ. Derived from verb qwm, mqm refers
to someone standing in attendance, in our case attending (and witnessing) the
oath ceremony. The fact that the juror (and his opponent) was positioned “be-
tween (byn) the four attendants” suggests that each party was entitled to bring
two witnesses.
104. The Aramaic expression is yhh s.bʾt. See Cl.-G. 167; 175. See also the proposed
restoration in TAD D7.35:1–2 (= Cl.-G. 186).
105. See Tryggve N. D. Mettinger, “Yahweh Zebaoth,” DDD 920–924.
106. See, e.g., André Lemaire, “Judean Identity in Elephantine: Everyday Life Ac-
cording to the Ostraca,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Achaemenid Period:
Negotiating Identity in an International Context (ed. Oded Lipschits, Gary N.
Knoppers, and Manfred Oeming; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2011),
365–373, esp. 369.
107. See Papyrus Amherst 63, xii 18.
108. See, e.g., August von Gall, Die Papyrusurkunden der jüdischen Gemeinde in
Elephantine und ihrer Bedeutung für jüdische Religion und Geschichte (Giessen:
Töpelmann, 1912), 20; Weippert, Historisches Textbuch, 478.
109. For Bethel’s battle against the sea, see the epithet “Destroyer of Yamm” (mʾbd
ym) in Papyrus Amherst 63, viii 16. Note also xi 4–5 (“He throws, he howls
with his thunders, illuminating with fire the places drenched by the sea”). An
allusion to Bethel’s kingship is extant in ix 3 (“He takes precedence over all the
gods”). For the construction of Bethel’s palace, see ix 9–10, 12–13.
110. Papyrus Amherst 63, ix 8–9; x 9–13; xi 1–6.
111. See, e.g., John Day, God’s Conflict with the Dragon and the Sea: Echoes of a Ca-
naanite Myth in the Old Testament (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1985).
112. See especially the story of the contest between Elijah and the Baal prophets
in 1 Kgs 18:20–46. Also see Hermann Gunkel, Elijah, Yahweh, and Baal (trans.
K. C. Hanson; Eugene, Ore.: Cascade, 2014).
113. Another striking example is the phrase “father of the orphan, judge of
the widow,” applied to Bethel in Papyrus Amherst 63, x 17, and to Yahweh in
Ps 68:6.
114. See Papyrus Amherst 63, vii 14–15; xi 11–12. See also the prayer against enemies
in xi 16–20.
115. See Papyrus Amherst 63, xvi 13–17, and see the discussion of Eshem-Bethel
below.
116. Papyrus Amherst 63, xii 16–19.
117. Papyrus Amherst 63, ix 11–12.
118. Quotations from Papyrus Amherst 63, ix 18–20; x 1–4.
119. See Harald Ingholt, Henri Seyrig, and Jean Starcky, eds., Recueil de tessères
de Palmyre (Paris: Imprimerie nationale, Geuthner, 1955), nos. 155, 162 (no in-
scription), 471 (no inscription); cf. nos. 122 (obv. “Symposion of Bel” [ʾgn bl];
rev. “Agli-Bol” and representation of crescent and two bull’s heads), 146 (Agli-
Bol represented by a bull’s head supported by crescent). See the discussion
by Monika Bernett and Othmar Keel, Mond, Stier und Kult am Stadttor: Die
Stele von Betsaida (et-Tell) (OBO 161; Fribourg: Universitätsverlag; Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1998), 41.
140. See the discussion about the lunar aspect of Bethel above.
141. For the name, see Berlin Papyrus 13481:6 = TAD C4.8:6. For the meaning, see
Johann Jakob Stamm, Die akkadische Namengebung (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1939),
43; CAD 8, s.v. “kudurru C.”
142. See Edouard Paul Dhorme, “Les dieux Uraš et Išum,” Orientalische Literatur-
zeitung 12 (1909): 114–115; Jean Bottéro, “Les divinités sémitiques anciennes en
Mésopotamie,” in Le antiche divinità semitiche (ed. Sabatino Moscati; Studi
Semitici 1; Rome: Istituto di Studi Orientali, 1958), 17–63, esp. 43–43. Note the
cautious observations in Edzard, “Išum,” §5.
143. See William Foxwell Albright, Archaeology and the Religion of Israel (Balti-
more: Johns Hopkins Press, 1942), 171, repeated in subsequent editions. Al-
bright has a wide following. See, e.g., William Fulco, “Ashima,” ABD 1:487;
Mordechai Cogan, “Ashima,” DDD 105–106, esp. 106.
144. For the equation of Eshem with Ishum, see Arthur Ungnad, Aramäische Papy-
rus aus Elephantine: Kleine Ausgabe unter Zugrundelegung von Eduard Sachau’s
Erstausgabe (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1911), 41; Friedrich Eduard König, “Die Gott-
heit Aschima,” ZAW 34 (1914): 16–30, esp. 23–25.
145. Contra Anneler, Zur Geschichte der Juden, 84.
146. See TAD B7.2:7–8 (“Herem-Bethel the god”); B7.3:3 (“He[rem] the [god]). For
other occurrences, see the Herem names discussed in Chapter 3.
147. See Grelot, Documents araméens d’Égypte, 94; Meir Malul, “Taboo,” DDD
824–827, esp. 824.
148. Contra Holm, who identifies Baal-Shamayin/Hadad as Nanay’s lover (“Nanay
and Her Lover,” esp. 18–19). Holm’s interpretation fails to recognize the paral-
lel between Papyrus Amherst 63, xvii 17–19 and xvi 3–4, and it mistakenly links
bšmwhy, “in his heavens” (xvii 14) with “May the Lord bless from Rash” as “In
his heavens, may Mar from Rash bless” (xvii 5).
149. See Papyrus Amherst 63, xvii 7–14.
150. See Samuel J. Greengus, “The Old Babylonian Marriage Contract,” JAOS 89
(1969): 505–532, esp. 515–520. One instance of the verba solemnia is found in
Theophilus G. Pinches, “Some Recent Discoveries in the Realm of Assyriol-
ogy, with Special Reference to the Private Life of the Babylonians,” Journal of
the Transactions of the Victoria Institute 26 (1892–1893): 123–185, esp. 154, col. ii,
line 14 (atta lu aššatu anāku lu mutka, “You be my wife, I your husband”).
151. See Samuel Noah Kramer, Le mariage sacré (translated, adapted, and supple-
mented by Jean Bottéro; Paris: Berg International, 1983); Wilfred G. Lambert,
“Devotion: The Language of Religion and Love,” in Figurative Language in
the Ancient Near East (ed. M. Mindlin, M. J. Geller, and J. E. Wansbrough;
London: School of Oriental and African Studies, 1987), 25–39; Martti Nis-
sinen and Risto Uro, eds., Sacred Marriages: The Divine-Human Sexual Meta-
phor from Sumer to Early Christianity (Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2008);
Nissinen, “Akkadian Rituals and Poetry of Divine Love,” in Mythology and
17. See Karel van der Toorn, Family Religion in Babylonia, Syria and Israel (SHANE
7; Leiden: Brill, 1996), 339–344; Israel Finkelstein, The Forgotten Kingdom: The
Archaeology and History of Northern Israel (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2013), 154.
18. The ethnic designation occurs in the name āl-Yāhūdāya. See Pearce and Wunsch,
˘
Documents of Judean Exiles, 312.
19. There had been a Samarian diaspora since 721 BCE. Neo-Assyrian sources rec-
ognize them as a distinct ethnic group; witness the references to “Samarians.”
See Angelika Berlejung, “Sāmerīna,” RlA 11:623–624. It is unclear whether, a
century later, the Babylonians distinguished between a Judean and a Samarian
diaspora, just as it is unclear whether, after the fall of Jerusalem, Judah became
a separate province or part of the Samarian province.
20. Eduard Sachau, Aramäische Papyrus und Ostraka aus einer jüdischen Militär-
Kolonie zu Elephantine (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1911), 36–40 and table 6; Arthur
Ungnad, Aramäische Papyrus aus Elephantine: Kleine Ausgabe unter Zugrun-
delegung von Eduard Sachau’s Erstausgabe (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1911), 13, no. 6
(“Sendschreiben betreffend das Passahfest”). The letter has been reedited as
TAD A4.1.
21. Instead of a complete list, the reader is referred to some of the more significant
studies. See Albert Vincent, La religion des Judéo-Araméens d’Éléphantine (Paris:
Geuthner, 1937), 234–311; Pierre Grelot, “Le papyrus pascal d’Éléphantine et le
problème du Pentateuque,” VT 5 (1955): 250–265; Ingo Kottsieper, “Die Reli-
gionspolitik der Achämeniden und die Juden von Elephantine,” in Religion
und Religionskontakte im Zeitalter der Achämeniden (ed. Reinhard G. Kratz;
Veröffentlichungen der Wissenschaftlichen Gesellschaft für Theologie 22;
Gütersloh: Kaiser, 2002), 150–178, esp. 150–158; Reinhard G. Kratz, “Temple
and Torah: Reflections on the Legal Status of the Pentateuch between Ele-
phantine and Qumran,” in The Pentateuch as Torah: New Models for Under-
standing Its Promulgation and Acceptance (ed. Gary N. Knoppers and Bernard
M. Levinson; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2007), 77–103, esp. 84–87; An-
gela Rohrmoser, Götter, Tempel und Kult der Judäo-Aramäer von Elephantine
(AOAT 396; Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2014), 341–357.
22. See Baruch M. Bokser, “Unleavened Bread and Passover, Feasts of,” ABD
6:755–765.
23. For references to Pesach in the ostraca, see Cl.-G. 62, rev. 4, for which see Lo-
zachmeur, La collection Clermont-Ganneau, 229–230; TAD D7.6; D7.24.
24. TAD A4.3:7.
25. TAD A4.1:1, cf. 10.
26. The second occurrence of the phrase is in the heading of the collection account
of 400 BCE. See TAD C3.15:1.
27. Kottsieper, “Die Religionspolitik der Achämeniden,” esp. 157.
28. For the expression h.ylʾ swnknyʾ, see TAD C3.14:32. For the Jews’ self-reference
as “Syenians,” see TAD A4.10:6. Hedwig Anneler points out the problematic
fact that the Syenian garrison had a commander (see TAD A5.2:7; last third
34. For Jerusalem as “the holy city” (ʿîr haqqōdeš), see Neh 11:1.
35. For the archaeological evidence for the temple demolition and the remains of
a second temple, see Cornelius von Pilgrim, “XII. Der Tempel des Jahwe,”
MDAIK 55 (1999): 142–145; Pilgrim, “VI. Das aramäische Quartier”; Pilgrim,
“Tempel des Jahu und ‘Strasse des Königs’: Ein Konflikt in der späten Perser-
zeit auf Elephantine,” in Egypt: Temple of the Whole World: Studies in Honour of
Jan Assmann (ed. Sibylle Meyer; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 303–317.
36. Among a spate of publications showcasing the destruction of the Yaho temple
at Elephantine as a symbol of “the emergence of an anti-Jewish tradition,”
see David Nirenberg, Anti-Judaism: The Western Tradition (New York: Norton,
2013), 17–19; Peter Schäfer, Judeophobia: Attitudes towards the Jews in the Ancient
World (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1997) 121–135.
37. Yedanyah son of Gemaryah, leader of the Jewish community between ca. 420
and 400 BCE (for the dates, see TAD A4.1; C3.15), was a grandson of Mah-
seyah. The genealogical line descends from Mahseyah the elder (born ca.
570 BCE), through Yedanyah the elder (born ca. 540), Mahseyah the younger
(ca. 500–415), and Gemaryah (born ca. 475 BCE), to Yedanyah the younger
(born ca. 450 BCE). Lady Mibtahyah, perhaps the most prominent woman
of the Jewish community around 450 BCE, was the daughter of Mahseyah
the younger and thus a sister of Gemaryah. See, e.g., the discussion in Anna-
lisa Azzoni, The Private Lives of Women in Persian Egypt (Winona Lake,
Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2013), 134–136. For Yedanyah the elder son of Mahseyah
the elder, see the discussion in Lozachmeur, La collection Clermont-Ganneau,
464–465.
38. The translation here offered is based on the second draft (TAD A4.8:3–16), the
damaged parts of which have been supplemented by the first draft of the peti-
tion (A4.7:4–17).
39. See Bezalel Porten, “The Aramaic Texts,” in Porten et al., The Elephantine Papyri
in English: Three Millennia of Cross-Cultural Continuity and Change (2nd rev.
ed.; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2011), 75–275, esp. 141.
40. Quotation from TAD A4.7:19–22 // A4.8:18–21.
41. For references to the mourning of the Jewish community, see TAD A4.7:15, 19–21
// A4.8:14, 19–20. For the carpe diem counsel in Gilgamesh, see the Old Baby-
lonian Sippar tablet, iii 6–13, a translation of which is conveniently accessible
in Andrew George, The Epic of Gilgamesh: A New Translation (London: Allen
Lane, 1999), 124. The parallel passage in the book of Ecclesiastes is found in
9:7–9. For the possible relationship between the two, see Karel van der Toorn,
“Echoes of Gilgamesh in the Book of Qohelet?,” in Veenhof Anniversary Vol-
ume (ed. Wilfred H. van Soldt; Leiden: Nederlands Instituut voor het Nabije
Oosten, 2001), 503–514.
42. See TAD A4.8:27–28 // A4.7:29 (“Also, we sent, in our name, all these words
in one letter to Delayah and Shelemyah sons of Sanballat the governor of
Samaria”). The formulation of the petition to Samaria was a copy of the text
sent to Bagohi.
43. See TAD A4.9.
44. See Ernest Renan, Qu’est-ce qu’une nation? (Paris: Lévy, 1882); repr. in Renan,
Discours et conférences (Paris: Lévy, 1887), 277–310. The phrase here quoted is
a slightly modified version of the sentence “L’oubli, et je dirai même l’erreur
historique, sont un facteur essentiel de la création d’une nation.”
45. The case of the stolen stone can be reconstructed on the basis of six letters: TAD
A3.6; A3.7; A3.8; A4.2; A4.3; A4.4. Their chronological order is TAD A3.7;
A3.6; A4.3 (all from the fall of 411 BCE); A4.2 ( January–February 410); A3.8
(May 410); A4.4 (May–June 410). For a detailed study, see Karel van der Toorn,
“Previously, at Elephantine,” JAOS 138 (2018): 255–270.
46. In TAD A3.7, Hosea son of Natan sends respectful greetings to various women
that participate in the business consortium whose interests he manages in
Memphis. Shelewah was married to Menahem, to be identified with Me-
nahem son of Azaryah, a temple steward (TAD B3.8:44; B2.9:17; C3.13:45, 48;
C3.13:10–19). Yeho-yishma was the daughter of Anani the temple steward
(TAD B3.5; B3.7). Meshullemet was the sister of Yedanyah son of Gemaryah,
the leader of the Jewish community. She was married to Zakkur son of Hosea
son of Zakkur and, thereby, was sister-in-law of Abihi (TAD C3.15:2–3). Abihi
had married Shelomam son of Hodawyah, the brother of Haggus son of Hodo.
Hazzul was the daughter of Hodawyah and thus was the sister of Shelomam
and Haggus and the sister-in-law of Abihi (TAD B6.3 and C3.15:114–115).
47. See the discussion in DNWSI, s.v. “s.rp.”
48. See CAD 16, s.v. “s.arpu A.” A Middle Assyrian text has abnu and s.arpu occur-
ring in the same phrase: “She must not give to any palace official either gold
or silver or precious stones (lu hurās.a lu s.arpa u lu abna).” See Martha T. Roth,
˘
Law Collections from Mesopotamia and Asia Minor (WAW 6; Atlanta: Schol-
ars Press, 1995), 199. Compare the Syriac s.rāpāʾ, “pure metal.” See Sokoloff,
s.v. “s.rāpāʾ 2.” The association with silver may underlie the Jewish Aramaic
s.arrāp, “money changer.” See DJBA, s.v. “s.arrāpāʾ”; cf. Syriac s.arāpāʾ (same
meaning).
49. See TAD A3.7:4 (“Sell it for gold”; hbh bzhb).
50. Mauzyah son of Natan was from a scribal family, some of whose members served
in the capacity of secretary of the Jewish community. Mauzyah’s full lineage
is Mauzyah son of Natan son of Ananyah son of Hosea son of Hodawyah.
On the scribal family that Mauzyah belonged to, see Porten, Archives from
Elephantine, 193 and n. 19; Alejandro F. Botta, The Aramaic and Egyptian Legal
Traditions at Elephantine (London: T&T Clark, 2009), 40–43; Eleonora Cus-
sini, “The Career of Some Elephantine and Murašû Scribes and Witnesses,”
in In the Shadow of Bezalel: Aramaic, Biblical, and Ancient Near Eastern Studies
in Honor of Bezalel Porten (ed. Alejandro F. Botta; CHANE 60; Leiden: Brill,
2013), 39–52, esp. 39–40. To their discussion of the evidence, it may be added
that the scribe Ananyah (variant: Anani) was the son of Hosea. See Lozach-
meur, La Collection Clermont-Ganneau, X11:5. In view of the scribal profession
that ran in the family, we may identify this Hosea, father of he scribe Ananyah,
with Hosea son of Hodawyah, who was the secretary-treasurer of the Jewish
community of Elephantine during the first quarter of the fifth century BCE.
See TAD B5.1:9 (495 BCE; as witness); B4.4:1–2, 18 (// B4.3:1–2, 21; 483 BCE;
as scribe); D7.6 (message addressed to Hosea [hwšʿyh], where it is implied that
he is responsible for determining the date of Pesach); D7.24 (with a reference
to a letter order by Rawaka, garrison commander at the time, to be shown to
Hosea).
51. TAD A4.3. Some of the more recent treatments of this letter include “Rec-
ommendation to Aid Two Benefactors,” translated by Bezalel Porten (COS
3.48:119–121); James M. Lindenberger, Ancient Aramaic and Hebrew Letters
(2nd ed.; WAW 14; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2003), 67–68, no. 31;
Ingo Kottsieper, “Aramäische Briefe aus Ägypten,” TUAT 2/3.6:360–361;
Anke Joisten-Pruschke, Das religiöse Leben der Juden von Elephantine in der
Achämenidenzeit (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2008), 168–173; Porten, “Aramaic
Texts,” 75–275, esp. 131–133; Rohrmoser, Götter, Tempel und Kult, 388–390.
52. The Aramaic has the term ʾbns.rp, followed by the sign for the numeral one,
implying that it is an item in a (hypothetical) series. The correct translation is
“one precious stone” or “a precious stone, one,” rather than “a precious stone.”
53. See TAD A6.2:23 (411 BCE). For a discussion, see Porten, Archives from Elephan-
tine, 56–57.
54. Ingo Kottsieper argues that Anani combined his duties as chancellor with ac-
tivity as commissioner for Jewish affairs in Egypt (“Die Religionspolitik der
Achämeniden,” 165–166).
55. TAD A4.3:7.
56. Porten, Archives from Elephantine, 281.
57. This is Simon Schama’s suggestion in The Story of the Jews: Finding the Words,
1000 BCE–1492 CE (London: Bodley Head, 2013), 25. For an earlier suggestion
to the same effect, see Arthur Cowley, Aramaic Papyri of the Fifth Century B.C.
(Oxford: Clarendon, 1923), 62.
58. TAD A4.5:1.
59. The contracts contain little evidence of any expansions of the Jewish quarter that
would reflect a growth in number and influence. The only deed of sale where
a Jew buys a house from a non-Jew is B3.4 (437 BCE). For property issues
involving Jews and non-Jews, see TAD B2.2 (464 BCE); B7.2 (401 BCE).
60. See TAD A4.2. For recent treatments of the letter, see Joisten-Pruschke, Das
religiöse Leben, 162–167; Porten, “Aramaic Texts,” 128–130; Rohrmoser, Götter,
Tempel und Kult, 386–388.
61. See TAD A4.7:4–5 // A4.8:4. See also A4.5:2–3.
62. See TAD A6.4 (Psamshek succeeds his father Ahhapi as pĕqîd, “official”); A6.9
(Nahthor is appointed as new pĕqîd).
63. See TAD A4.5:4; A4.7:5 // A4.8:5; A4.7:7 // A4.8:6; B2.9:4–5. On the function
of frataraka, “governor,” see Jan Tavernier, Iranica in the Achaemenid Period (ca.
550–330 B.C.): Lexicon of Old Iranian Proper Names and Loanwords, Attested in
Non-Iranian Texts (OLA 158; Leuven: Peeters, 2007), 412.
64. See TAD C3.14:35; D3.19:7; C3.14:38 ([mdynt t]št. rs); B3.13:11; C3.19:14. According
to Porten, “It is likely that the two terms in the Aramaic papyri, ‘province of
Thebes’ and ‘province of Tshetres,’ usually taken as two distinct administrative
districts, are actually synonymous” (Archives from Elephantine, 43). Tshetres is
biblical Pathros ( Jer 44:1, 15) and Assyrian Paturisi. Most commentators prefer
to translate mzdyzn as a proper name, because the reference to someone as a
worshipper of a particular deity is unusual in antiquity. See, e.g., Grelot, Docu-
ments araméens d’Égypte, 332–333. I take the term as a deprecative reference to
a Persian official known to Hosea and his superiors for his devotion to the cult
of Mazda. For a dedicatory text of a Mazdean socle by an unknown garrison
commander of Syene (458 BCE), see TAD D17.1.
65. Translation based on this reconstruction of line 3: [ksp lʾ] bydy [k]zy h[š]kh.t k[lyʾ]
⌈b⌉ksp kršn IIIII.
66. See TAD A3.8. For a recent treatment of the letter, see Porten, “Aramaic Texts,”
111–113.
67. See TAD B3.10:24 (404 BCE); C3.15:7 (400 BCE).
68. In view of the name of his father (“Hodo” being the abbreviated form of
“Hodawyah”), Haggus was the brother of Shelomam. This Shelomam was
married to Abihi (the Lady Abihi who was one of Hosea’s clients), the
daughter of Hosea son of Zakkur and the sister of Zakkur son of Hosea son
of Zakkur. For the marriage between Shelomam son of Hodawyah and Abihi,
see TAD B6.3 (ca. 430 BCE). For the ancestry of Abihi, see TAD C3.15:93
(daughter of Hosea), her father to be identified with Hosea son of Zakkur
mentioned in D6.1. For Zakkur son of Hosea son of Zakkur, see TAD C3.15:3,
where he is linked with Meshullemet daughter of Gemaryah son of Mah-
seyah, sister of the leader of the Jewish community, and presumably wife of
Zakkur son of Hosea son of Zakkur. Zakkur, brother of Abihi, was presum-
ably the first witness to her marriage with Shelomam (TAD B6.3:13).
69. TAD A4.4, being a join of Cowley, Aramaic Papyri, nos. 56 and 34. For re-
cent treatments of the letter, see Lindenberger, Ancient Aramaic, 68–70, no. 32;
“Report of Imprisonment of Jewish Leaders,” translated by Bezalel Porten
(COS 3.49:121–122); Porten, “Aramaic Texts,” 134–135; Rohrmoser, Götter, Tem-
pel und Kult, 391–393; Caryn Tamber-Rosenau, “Female Diplomats in Jewish
Elephantine? A New Look at a Papyrus from the Yedaniah Archive,” Journal
for the Study of the Old Testament 40 (2016): 491–510; Bob Becking, “Burglars,
Diplomats, or Victims? Remarks on the Interpretation of a Document from
ties to establish the truth of the Jewish allegations. See TAD A4.5:8–10. The
necessity of an inquiry could mean the events were so recent that the central
administration did not know about them yet. Alternatively, though, the refer-
ence is to an investigation ordered by Arsames upon his return to Egypt in
order to find out exactly what had happened in his absence. For the suggested
date of 410 BCE, see TAD A:62; Lindenberger, Ancient Aramaic, 70.
85. For the striking correspondences between the lines about Arsames’s absence,
the role of the priests of Khnub, and the complicity of Vidranga, see TAD
A4.7:4–6; A4.8:3–5; A4.5:2–4. For another similarity, see TAD A4.5:18 (“They
took the equipment and made it their own”), which corresponds with A4.7:12–
13 // A4.8:11–12 (“But the gold and silver basins and other things that were in
that temple—all of these they took and made their own”).
86. TAD A4.5 is a draft of the petition sent to Arsames in Memphis; A4.7 and A4.8
are drafts of the petition sent to Bagohi the governor of Judah. A4.7:29 //
A4.8:28 mentions a written petition sent out to Delayah and Shelemyah sons
of Sanballat the governor of Samaria. TAD A4.9 is the memorandum with a
statement of support by Bagohi and Delayah in response to the petitions they
had received.
87. See TAD A4.8:16–18 // A4.7:17–19.
88. TAD A4.5.
89. Compare the similar phrases in TAD A4.7:7–8 (“Let them demolish the tem-
ple that is in Elephantine the fortress”) // A4.8:6–7 (“Let them demolish the
temple of Yaho the god that is in Elephantine the fortress”) and A4.7:23 //
A4.8:22–23 (“If it please our lord, take thought of that temple to rebuild it since
they do not let us rebuild it”).
90. See Porten, Archives from Elephantine, 287; Kottsieper, “Die Religionspolitik
der Achämeniden,” 159–160; Schama, Story of the Jews, 24.
91. See, e.g., Porten, Archives from Elephantine, 279; Kottsieper, “Die Religionspoli-
tik der Achämeniden,” 160 n. 37.
92. The Aramaic phrase is kzy ms.ryn mrdt wh.ylʾ hndyz hww (TAD A6.7:6). Com-
pare the reference in TAD A6.10:1 (kzy ms.ryʾ mrdw, “when the Egyptians
rebelled”).
93. See TAD A6.7:7. Tawny Holm has proposed to read the name as Inaros,
[y]n[h.]rw (“The Sheikh Fadl Inscription in Its Literary and Historical Con-
text,” Aramaic Studies 5 [2007]: 193–224, esp. 208–209). If the reading is correct,
this cannot be the Inaros of an earlier rebellion, since the latter reportedly
died in Susa in 454. Note the considerations about Inaros in Pierre Briant,
“Ethno-classe dominante et populations soumises dans l’Empire achéménide:
Le cas de l’Égypte,” in Achaemenid History 3: Method and Theory: Proceedings of
the London 1985 Achaemenid History Workshop (ed. Amélie Kuhrt and Heleen
Sancisi-Weerdenburg; Leiden: Nederlands Instituut voor het Nabije Oosten,
1988), 137–173, esp. 144 n. 16 (“Le nom d’Inaros est probablement générique en
ce qu’il exprime un sentiment d’hostilité aux étrangers”).
94. See TAD A6.11:1–2, 4 (kzy ywzʾ hwh bms.ryn, “when there was turmoil in
Egypt”).
95. For this line of interpretation, see Driver, Aramaic Documents, 9; Edda Bre-
sciani, “The Persian Occupation of Egypt,” in The Cambridge History of Iran
(ed. Ilya Gershevitch; 7 vols.; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985),
2:502–528, esp. 511.
96. The verb used for the Egyptian insurrection is consistently mrd, “to rebel, to
revolt.” The response to the revolt is also the same: the garrison is summoned
to the fortress to defend it, referred to with the circumlocution hndyz hwy, “to
be garrisoned, to be confined to the fortress.”
97. Contra Briant, “Ethno-classe dominante,” 144–147. See also Briant, Histoire de
l’Empire Perse: De Cyrus à Alexandre (Paris: Fayard, 1996), esp. 620–623. For
a more popularized version, see Briant, “Une curieuse affaire à Éléphantine
en 410 av. n. è.: Widranga, le temple de Yahweh et le sanctuaire de Khnûm,”
Méditerranées 6 (1996): 115–135. The Swiss archaeologist Cornelius von Pilgrim
follows Briant’s interpretation of the events and marshals archaeological evi-
dence to support it. See especially Pilgrim, “Tempel des Jahu.”
98. See TAD A4.9:6; A6.7:7. See also the use of this term to qualify Vidranga in the
petition to Bagohi in TAD A4.7:7 // A4.8:6.
99. Contrast F. Mario Fales who translates klbyʾ as “auxiliaries,” on the basis of
Akkadian kallāb/pu (“Aramaic Letters and Neo-Assyrian Letters: Philological
and Methodological Notes,” JAOS 107 (1987): 451–469, esp. 468–469). James M.
Lindenberger proposes translating kblwhy as “his entrails, guts,” on the basis
of Babylonian qablu (“What Ever Happened to Vidranga? A Jewish Liturgy
of Cursing from Elephantine,” in The World of the Arameans III: Studies in
Language and Literature in Honour of Paul-Eugène Dion [ed. P. M. Michèle
Daviau, John W. Wevers, and Michael Weigl; JSOTSup 326; Sheffield: Shef-
field Academic, 2001], 134–157). Jacob Nahum Epstein was the first to suggest
translating kblwhy as “his anklets,” an ornament purportedly carried as a sign
of rank (“Glossen zu den ‘aramäischen Papyrus und Ostraka,’” ZAW 32 (1912):
128–138, esp. 128).
100. See Laura Kataja and Robert M. Whiting, Grants, Decrees and Gifts of the
Neo-Assyrian Period (SAA 12; Helsinki: Helsinki University Press, 1995), no.
25, recto 31; no. 26, recto 31 (pagaršu in la qebēri libas.s.iru kalbū). For other in-
stances, see CAD 8, s.v. “kalbu,” esp. 1b. For illustrations from the Hebrew
Bible, see 1 Kgs 14:11; 16:4; 21:19, 23, 24; 22:38; 2 Kgs 9:10, 36.
101. The interpretation here advanced implies that the Vidranga mentioned in a
source dated 399 BCE is not our Vidranga but a different man by the same
name, contra Emil G. Kraeling, The Brooklyn Museum Aramaic Papyri (New
Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1953), 283. Note also the interpretation of
TAD D17.1 advanced in André Lemaire, “Recherches d’épigraphie araméenne
en Asie mineure et en Égypte et le problème de l’acculturation,” in Asia Minor
Epilogue
1. On the assimilation and Hellenization of the Jewish community of Herak-
leopolis, see James M. S. Cowey and Klaus Maresh, Urkunden des Politeuma
der Juden von Herakleopolis (144/3–133/2 v. Chr.) (P. Polit. Jud.): Papyri aus den
Sammlungen von Heidelberg, Köln, München und Wien (Papyrologica Coloni-
ensia 39; Wiesbaden: Westdeutscher Verlag, 2001), esp. 23–29. The papyri offer
no evidence of specifically Jewish judicial practices, although there are refer-
ences to “ancestral law” (patrios nomos). In fact, the occasional application of
a 24 percent interest rate on loans runs against Torah prescriptions. See also
Sylvie Honigman, “Jewish Communities of Hellenistic Egypt: Different Re-
sponses to Different Environments,” in Jewish Identities in Antiquity: Stud-
ies in Memory of Menahem Stern (ed. Lee I. Levine and Daniel R. Schwartz;
TSAJ 130; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009), 117–135.
Appendix
The translation is adapted from Karel van der Toorn, Papyrus Amherst 63
(AOAT 448; Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2018) and published with permission by
Ugarit-Verlag.
255
Bel, 44, 52, 78, 81–83, 86, 225n103 Darga-and-Rash, 77, 108–109
Belat-ayakki, 79, 81 Darius II, 122
Belzoni, Giovanni Battista, 8 decalogue, 11
bethel, 80, 101 Delayah, 141, 251n86
Bethel (god), 29–30, 46–49, 59–60, 65, demons, 239n134
66, 67–68, 70, 73, 76–77, 79, 80, 85, Demotic Chronicle, 245n33
88, 100, 104–106, 112, 120, 202n37; desert, 75, 76; Syrian, 77
and Eshem-Bethel, 109; successor Deuteronomy, 12
of Baal, 104; temple of, 95, 208n10 diaspora, 18–20, 119–120; Aramean,
Bethel (town), 72 42–60; Judean, in Babylonia, 120;
Bethsaida stele, 106 story, 26
boatmen, 56 dogs, 141
Bol, 78–80, 81–82 Dumuzi, 111
Bowman, Raymond, 63 Dura-Europos, 29
bribery, 127, 132, 136, 140
bull: calf image, 101; as divine title, 69, Eanna temple, 81
80, 81, 102, 108 Edessa, 53, 80
burial practices, 54, 214n129 Edfu, 90, 232n54; Jews at, 96; Yaho
business consortium, 128–129, 135 temple at, 96
Efca, 78, 80
calendar, Jewish festival, 121–122, 124, El, 51–52; bull of, 108; sons of, 103
127 Elam, 76
calf: golden, 70; of Samaria, 70, 71, 103 Esarhaddon, 24, 25, 82
Cambyses II, 61, 73, 115 Eshem-Bethel, 29–30, 47–49, 51–52, 66,
caravan: city, 66, 76; route, 90 67, 80, 86, 88, 100, 103, 107–110
Carter, Howard, 4, 21 Eshmun, 110
Caspians, 37–39 Eshor (Natan) son of Zeha, 32, 55,
Cecil, Mary, 3–5, 22, 63 203n52
chancellor, of satrap in Egypt, 130, 132 Espemet son of Peftuaneith, 56
cherubim, 70 ethnicity, 30–41, 145
circumcision, 40 etymology, folk, 110
Clermont-Ganneau, Charles, 5, 10–11, evening star, 79, 85
12, 24
cleruchs, 91, 93 fast, 126
coffin, with Aramaic inscription, 45, ferry, 56, 94
232n48 fire, as divine weapon, 108–109
council of heaven, 103, 237n101 firman, ferman, 122–123
cow, as divine title, 81 fortress, 95
Cowley, Arthur E., 7, 35, 91–92
Creation Epic, Babylonian, 83 Gall, August von, 12
crescent, as divine title, 105–106 garrison: border, 93; cities in Egypt,
90; commander, 42, 92, 121; Jew-
Damascus, 76, 78 ish, 57–58, 95, 122
Daniel, book of, 5, 26 German Papyrus Cartel, 5
well inside fortress of Elephantine, Yahweh: of Samaria, 70; S.ebaoth, 97, 103
95, 139 Yamm, 84, 104
Wesselius, Jan Willem, 72 Yardeni, Ada, 9
widow, 238n113 Yarhi-Bol, 79, 80
Wilbour, Charles Edwin, 7 Yaron, Reuven, 39
wine, 107; new, 69 Yaʾu-bidi, 60
witnesses: Arameans as, 57; to con- Yedanyah (Didi), 56
tracts, 30; Iranians as, 38; to oaths, Yedanyah son of Gemaryah, 54,
100 125–127, 129, 135, 202n46, 246n37
Yeho-yishma, 33, 204n63, 205n89
Yaho, 102–107; in Amherst papyrus, Yezanyah son of Uriyah, 214n137
69, 85; of Hosts, 103; identified Yislah son of Natan, 134–135, 250n69
with Bethel, 104; kingship of, 69,
85; at Palmyra, 80; orthography Zadak son of Qon, 206n98
of, 27, 102, 200–201n26; Throne Zakkur: of Hamath, 68; inscription,
of, 80 67; son of Hosea, 247n46; son of
Yaho temple, 56, 95–98, 208n10, Meshullam, 204n59, 215n149
214n137; demolition of, 125–128; Zion, 97, 114
136–142; at Edfu, 96; at Leon- Zoroastrianism, 232n52
topolis, 96
261
Psalms Judith
Psalm 20 69, 84, 104, 146 6:17 198n63
50:7–23 239n133 7:17 198n63
60:8–10 239n133 8:1 197n59
68:6 238n113 8:3–4 197n60
81:7–14 239n133 8:21 197n61
95:8–11 239n133 12:1–4 197n61
106:19 237n96 13:14 198n63
132:11–18 239n133 15:8 198n63
137:5 114 15:9 17, 197n61
16:21, 23 197n60
Job
6:4 108, 239n132 2 Maccabees
38:7 237n102 2:21 197n49
8:1 197n49
Ecclesiastes 14:38 197n49
9:7–9 246n41
Ezra
West Semitic Inscriptions
2:16, 42 203n59
7:12–26 122 KAI
222A:5 222n72
Nehemiah
227 202n36
7:21, 45 203n59
268 212n84
10:18 203n59
11:1 246n34 TAD
2 Chronicles A2.1–7 208n10
8:33 78 A2.1:1 208n10, 212n90,
11:15 237n96 219n26, 234n69
13:8 237n96 A2.1:2 210n58, 214n130
A2.1:3 208n15, 209n33
Apocrypha A2.1:8 212n88
A2.1:15 210n58, 212n90
Tobit A2.2:1 208n10, 212n88,
1:1–2 197n59 219n26, 234n69