ISSN 1440-9828
                                                                                                  October
2008                                            
                                                                    No 414   

 

Dr Philip Bounds is an academic who claims the Jewish Holocaust-Shoah is beyond discussion. He’s never been afflicted with doubt of the kind: ‘I used to be uncertain of myself, now I’m not so sure!’ This makes him to be either ignorant of the physical facts or a liar!

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Dr Philip Bounds : Should Universities Employ Bigots?  The Case of Nicholas Kollerstrom


Nicholas Kollerstrom and UCL

The universities of the free world have often employed some pretty unsavoury people.  Even the most reputable academic departments occasionally play host to Holocaust deniers, apologists for Joseph Stalin or semi-fascist theoreticians who believe that Africans are genetically inferior to Europeans.  The issue of how these intellectual mavericks should be treated excites a great deal of controversy.  Should universities dismiss them from their posts as part of a righteous war against offensive beliefs, or should they be allowed to remain in situ in the name of free speech?  Mild-mannered dons have been known to come to blows when questions like this are floated in the common room.

A recent case in a British university throws all the relevant issues into vivid relief.  In April 2008 a sixty-one-year-old astronomer named Nicholas Kollerstrom was dismissed from an unpaid research fellowship in the Department of Science and Technology Studies at University College London (UCL).  His offence was to have published an online article claiming that the Holocaust never took place.1  In a brief and pompous announcement on its website, UCL said that it had terminated Dr Kollerstrom’s employment because his views are “diametrically opposed to [our] aims, objectives and ethos…such that we wish to have absolutely no association with them or their originator.”2  This was disapproval with a capital “D”.

UCL’s desire to be rid of Dr Kollerstrom is certainly understandable.  His article on the Holocaust is an execrable piece of drivel, repeating most of the hoary old clichés which Holocaust deniers have persistently passed off as evidence of independent thought.  Moreover, Dr Kollerstrom’s intellectual lapses aren’t simply confined to fantasising about Hitler’s innocence.  The man is a sort of walking compendium of what Damian Thompson scornfully calls “counterknowledge”.3 Quite apart from publishing credulous texts on astrology and crop circles (a relatively minor crime), he also believes that the terrorist attacks of 9/11 and 7/7 were “inside jobs”.  Defending him is not an easy task.  Yet the fact remains that UCL’s decision to fire him is deeply unjust, not simply because it shows scant regard for the idea of personal liberty (though it certainly does that) but also because it has damaging implications for academic culture as a whole.  Let me count the ways.4

Universities and Free Speech

Many of the people who support UCL’s decision invoke a purely negative conception of individual liberty.  They argue that Dr Kollerstrom’s dismissal does not involve a violation of his right to free expression, since all societies necessarily impose what might be called contextual limitations on freedom of speech.  No individual has the right to say exactly what he likes in whatever circumstances he likes, or so the argument goes.  Free societies should avoid imposing unreasonable restrictions on the expression of opinion, but there is no obligation on any institution or organisation to provide an outlet for opinions with which it disagrees.  As long as the individual has a legal right to speak his mind, he cannot expect anyone else to provide him with a megaphone. 

Dr Kollerstrom’s critics tend to link this point about the contextual limits on free speech to a concern about his academic competence.  Their argument is that UCL’s overriding obligation is to maintain high academic standards.  Since Dr Kollerstrom’s article on the Holocaust was clearly the product of academic fraud, deliberately ignoring the vast amount of well-documented evidence that might have disproved its thesis, it follows that UCL could only protect its reputation by immediately dissociating itself from its author.  The case for the prosecution was put with characteristic force by the writer Oliver Kamm, who argued on his blog that:

The issue is not one of personal liberty or academic freedom.  It’s about the purpose of the academy.  Holocaust denial is a demonstrably false claim about history.  It can be promoted consistently only by ignoring or doctoring the evidence.  Indeed, the two most prominent Holocaust deniers in the West, my reader David Irving and Robert Faurisson, have been found in courts of law (in the UK and France, respectively) to have engaged in fakery.  By taking the stand that it has, UCL has properly insisted that its academics adhere not to a particular view but to a method, that of critical inquiry.5

 

Arguments like these are used whenever a university plays host to a controversial scholar or speaker (and sometimes even to a controversial student),6 so it is important to be clear where their weakness lies.  The big problem with Dr Kollerstrom’s critics is that they state their case in far too inflexible a form.  It is perfectly true that the majority of institutions should be free of any obligation to publicise beliefs they dislike.  It would clearly be absurd to expect the Libertarian Alliance to publish articles by card-carrying fascists or the BNP to open its press to spokesmen for the Muslim Council of Britain.  Yet the emphasis on the right to exclude opinions should not be taken too far.  Most free societies have recognised that certain institutions, notably schools, universities and other places of learning, have a duty to conduct themselves along more pluralistic lines.  The justification for this is a straightforwardly democratic one.  Some people have an easier time getting their opinions heard than others.  The columns of our leading newspapers are generally more accessible to the savants of the centre-right than to writers of the radical right or the left.  The Conservative, Labour and Liberal parties can afford to produce as many party political broadcasts as they wish (subject to some fairly relaxed statutory limitations), whereas the Communist, Green and Libertarian parties enjoy no such privilege.  If the right to free speech is to be made meaningful, it is therefore necessary (or at least desirable) for universities and related institutions to provide an outlet for as wide a range of opinions as possible.  The community of scholars should never be mistaken for a confraternity of political soulmates.

If one accepts that universities should be as ideologically diverse as possible, it follows that their more controversial (or bigoted) employees should be treated with a certain tenderness. 

Administrators should proceed on the assumption that scholars have the right to say whatever they like, and that nothing short of a significant violation of professional standards should merit disciplinary action.  This is not to say that no one should ever be sacked, only that universities should err at all times on the side of free speech.  The fact that they no longer do so (or do so only intermittently) raises an awkward question about their legal status: Should universities be compelled to promote free speech?  As unthinkable as it might seem to certain libertarians, there are times when the law can enhance the quality of public discourse rather than undermine it.  The statutory obligation on British broadcasters to cover politics impartially has generally worked well, and many people now believe that a legal commitment to “pluralism” should be introduced to supplement it.7  A clause in the next Education Act to protect the rights of academic dissenters could arguably do a lot of good.

The Issue of Fraudulence

It goes without saying that no amount of enlightened chat about pluralism should protect the exponent of academic fraud.  If an academic wilfully distorts or invents evidence in order to support his case, there can, in principle, be no realistic objection to his being fired, demoted or in some other way severely reprimanded.  However, the issue is rarely as simple as it seems.  Identifying fraud can sometimes be difficult.  In the case of Dr Kollerstrom, whose article on the Holocaust undeniably reeks of shoddy scholarship, it cannot be said often enough that his work on non-scientific themes had nothing to do with his employment at UCL.  His research fellowship was awarded for his work in the history of astronomy, an area in which his scholarly output is apparently unimpeachable.  Anything he wrote on the Holocaust, crop circles or 9/11 was produced in his own time.  What this means, as Brendan O’Neill pointed out in a fine piece on the Index on Censorship website, is that Dr Kollerstrom has effectively been sacked for expressing his “private beliefs and habits”.8  To support UCL’s decision is implicitly to back the idea that employers have a right to supervise their workers’ private lives.9

More generally, the hunt for academic fraudulence often gives rise to difficult and sometimes insuperable problems of definition.  Those who call for people like Dr Kollerstrom to be sacked seem to regard the scholarly “cheat” as a sort of out-and-out rogue, persistently and deliberately distorting the truth for political ends.  There is no doubt that unmitigated frauds exist (and that many of them have been drawn to Holocaust denial), but in truth they are rarely to be found in universities.  The great majority of university teachers have demonstrated at least a basic command of academic research methods.  The factual basis of what they write is likely to be reasonably sound, even when their interpretation of data arouses controversy.  Scholars who offend against the academic proprieties usually only do so in comparatively minor ways, so that their writings are compromised at the level of the individual sentence or paragraph but rarely in toto.  Moreover, their scholarly lapses are often the product not of dishonesty but of over-enthusiasm, naiveté or excessive faith in personal intuition.  When a university accuses a man of fraudulence, it often ignores the fact that the bulk of his scholarship is sound and that his sins were unintentional.  It is not clear that a robust academic culture can exist on this basis.

The War on Pluralism

There is one other reason why the sacking of Dr Kollerstrom was so regrettable.  It has gone a long way towards reinforcing some of the most destructive academic trends of recent times.  As we saw earlier, Western universities have done much in the modern age to foster the idea of intellectual tolerance.  Recognising that ideological consensuses are always impermanent, they have seen it as their role to encourage open debate and to “keep large areas of past culture, if not alive, at least available.”10 However, the commitment to pluralism has come under enormous strain over the last thirty or forty years.  Universities throughout the Western world have become hotbeds of political controversy, playing host to scholars of both the left and the right whose commitment to free speech has sometimes been negligible.  Many observers trace the origins of the problem to the advent of the so-called soixante huitards, who entered the academy after the stirring events of the 1960s and openly pursued a “long march through the institutions” in the name of Marxism, feminism and other radical ideologies.  Dismissing the established universities as little more than “ideological apparatuses of the capitalist state”,11 they sought to transform their respective disciplines into instruments of political agitation.  This eventually provoked a violent backlash from scholars of the right, who have fought a vigorous rearguard action in defence of such things as “tradition”, “disinterested aesthetic values” and “hierarchy”.  The battle between the two groups has rarely been pretty. 

The problem has never been one of scholarship.  Both the soixante-huitard left and the traditionalist right have produced work of the highest quality.  The real difficulty is the quasi-totalitarian spirit in which some (though by no means all) leading academics have conducted themselves.  Too many people, some of them extremely influential, now take the view that scholars from the opposite end of the political spectrum should either be drummed out of the profession or never employed in the first place.  To this end they leave promising candidates off shortlists on purely political grounds, start whispering campaigns against colleagues and collaborate with campus activists to have “unacceptable” speakers banned. 

 

Significantly enough, one of their deadliest weapons is the accusation of academic fraud.  For men like Henry A. Turner and Norman Finkelstein, the former a member of the sullen right and the latter an ornament of the apoplectic left, it is no longer enough to express measured disagreement with work one finds objectionable.12  Instead its author must be dismissed as a charlatan and loudly upbraided for plagiarism, tendentiousness and wilful distortion of sources.  Very fine scholars have had their careers destroyed or held in check as a consequence.

When UCL took the decision to dismiss Dr Kollerstrom, it showed that the most illiberal attitudes had finally penetrated to the highest reaches of the academy.  The college authorities were not responding to a mass campaign but to an e-mail from a member of the public.  Faced with a coarse and bovine opinion which cut against the grain, their immediate response was to demonise the rather ineffectual fantasist who had tried to disseminate it.  In taking this action they conferred an air of official legitimacy on all the sordid little techniques, most of them perfected over forty years, by which individual scholars have sought to exclude their opponents from academic life.  Once upon a time the most politically conscious students might have marched in Dr Kollerstrom’s defence.  This time around their silence has been deafening.  Having spent so much time in a system in which curiosity is invariably trumped by conformity, they seem to have accepted the view that certain opinions are simply too horrible to be aired in civilised company.  This is a measure of just how effective the war on pluralism has been.  The spectacle of students, teachers and administrators uniting in opposition to free speech is a travesty of everything a university should stand for.  It will take a long time before matters can be put right.

Notes

1. See Nicholas Kollerstrom, “The Auschwitz Gas Chamber’ Illusion”, Website of The Committee for Open Debate on the Holocaust, 2008,

 http://www.codoh.com/newrevoices/nrillusion.html

2. Website of University College London, April 22 2008,

 http://www.ucl.ac.uk/news/news-articles/0804/08042202.

3. See Damian Thompson, Counterknowledge (London: Atlantic Books, 2008).

4. Lest it be thought that I have a hidden agenda, I had better say the following: The author of this article is a libertarian socialist.  He has no doubt that the Holocaust occurred and he regards it as one of history’s gravest crimes.  He abhors fascism in all its forms and is reasonably sympathetic to the state of Israel.

5. Oliver Kamm, “Points from the Blogs”, Oliver Kamm (website), May 4 2008,

 http://oliverkamm.typepad.com/blog/page/4/

6. Readers of a certain age will remember the deeply illiberal campaign in the 1980s to prevent Patrick Harrington, a member of the National Front, from studying at North London Polytechnic.

7. See, for instance, James Curran and Jean Seaton, Power without Responsibility: The Press and Broadcasting in Britain, fifth edition (London: Routledge, 1997), p. 362.

8. Brendan O’Neill, Contribution to “The Kollerstrom Question”, Index on Censorship (website), 2008,

http://www.indexoncensorship.org/?p=359

9. A more enlightened example has been set by Northwestern University in the USA, where the Holocaust denier Arthur Butz has been employed for more than thirty years.  Recognising that Professor Butz’s expertise in electrical engineering (the subject he is employed to teach) is sound, Northwestern granted him tenure and turned a blind eye to such poisonous extracurricular outpourings as The Hoax of the Twentieth Century: The Case Against the Presumed Extermination of European Jewry (1976).  If this sort of arrangement can exist in the USA, where sensitivity to anti-Semitism runs understandably high, it can surely be emulated in Britain.

10. Raymond Williams, The Long Revolution (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1984 [1961]), p. 68.

11. The phrase is that of the great Marxist philosopher Louis Althusser.  See Althusser, “Ideology and Ideological State Apparatuses” in Lenin and Philosophy and Other Essays (London: Monthly Review Press, 1971).

12. For Henry A. Turner’s outrageous attempt to destroy the career of the gifted Marxist historian David Abraham, see Jon Wiener, “Footnotes to History: the David Abraham Case” in Professors, Politics and Pop (London: Verso, 1991).  For Norman Finkelstein’s groundless attempt to level charges of plagiarism against the Harvard academic Alan Dershowitz, see Alan Dershowitz, The Case for Peace: How the Arab-Israeli Conflict can be Resolved (New York: Wiley, 2006).

http://libertarianalliance.wordpress.com/2008/08/25/new-la-publication-academic-freedom/

Educational Notes, No. 39, ISSN 0953-7775, ISBN: 9781856376167

An occasional publication of the Libertarian Alliance, Suite 35, 2 Lansdowne Row, Mayfair, London W1J 6HL.

© 2008: Libertarian Alliance; Dr Philip Bounds.

Philip Bounds holds a PhD in Politics from the University of Wales.  He is the author of Orwell and Marxism (2008), British Communism and Literary Theory (2008) and Cultural Studies (1999).  His essays, articles and reviews have appeared in a wide range of journals and newspapers. The views expressed in this publication are those of its author, and not necessarily those of the Libertarian Alliance, its Committee, Advisory Council or subscribers. FOR LIFE, LIBERTY AND PROPERTY

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Possibly related posts: (automatically generated)

On the Academic Boycott of Israel

http://chetriese.wordpress.com/2007/05/29/on-the-academic-boycott-of-israel/ 

Academic Freedom (AF)

http://livingininterestingtimes.wordpress.com/2008/06/30/academic-freedom-af/ 

Freedom of Whose Speech?

http://freetradecoffee.wordpress.com/2007/08/30/freedom-of-whose-speech/

Categories: Education · LA Papers · Law · Liberty · MARKET CIVILISATION

Tagged: academic freedom, Crime, David Irving, EU, free speech, holocaust, holocaust denial, Nazis


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Peter Myers presents

1. Robert Giles: Four-Room houses at Avaris prove Hyksos were Hebrews/Israelites, and not slaves

2. Israel Finkelstein and Neil Asher Silberman: “Exodus” was expulsion from Avaris

3. Walter Mattfeld on Bietak findings re Avaris Four-Room houses

4. Manfred Bietak – Summary: Four-Room house & possible exodus of 12th century B.C.E.

5. Manfred Bietak – Detail: Four-Room house & possible exodus of 12th century B.C.E.

6. Shlomo Bunimovitz & Avraham Faust: Four-Room Israelite house: Ideology in Stone

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

1. Robert Giles: Four-Room houses at Avaris prove Hyksos were Hebrews/Israelites, and not slaves

The city of Avaris was the capital of the Hyksos domain in the north of Egypt; it was excavated by Egyptologist Manfred Bietak. Robert Giles wrote to me: “Nov. 2006. Concrete physical evidence that the Hyksos were Hebrews.The orthogonal structures of the Hyksos [at Avaris, in the Bronze Age] is {sic} the same as the Israelite four-room homes in the Iron Age. This proves that the Hyksos were Hebrews and later Israelites. The idea that the Hebrew-Hyksos were slaves has no merit. Josephus was right when he said the Hyksos were the ancestors of the Israelites. The so-called exodus of the Israelites from Egypt was actually when the Hebrews were expelled from Egypt, around 1550 B.C.E.

Respectfully, Robert Giles.

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2. Israel Finkelstein and Neil Asher Silberman: “Exodus” was expulsion from Avaris

On the Rise and Fall of the Hyksos in northern Egypt, Archaeologists Israel Finkelstein and Neil Asher Silberman wrote in their book The Bible Unearthed, The Free Press, New York, 2001: {p. 55} The most important dig has been undertaken by Manfred Bietak, of the University of Vienna, at Tell ed-Daba, a site in the eastern delta identified as Avaris, the Hyksos capital (Figure 6, p. 58). Excavations there show a gradual increase of Canaanite influence in the styles of pottery, architecture, and tombs from around 1800 BCE. By the time of the Fifteenth Dynasty, some 150 years later, the culture of the site, which eventually became a huge city, was overwhelmingly Canaanite. ...

But there is an even more telling parallel between the saga of the Hyksos and the biblical story of the Israelites in Egypt, despite their drastic difference in tone. Manetho describes how the Hyksos invasion of Egypt was finally brought to an end by a virtuous Egyptian king who attacked and defeated the Hyksos, "killing many of them and pursuing the remainder to the frontiers of Syria." In fact, Manetho suggested that after the Hyksos were driven from Egypt, they founded the city of Jerusalem and constructed a temple there. Far more trustworthy is an Egyptian source of the {p. 56} sixteenth century BCE that recounts the exploits of Pharaoh Ahmose, of the Eighteenth Dynasty, who sacked Avaris and chased the remnants of the Hyksos to their main citadel in southern Canaan - Sharuhen, near Gaza - which he stormed after a long siege. And indeed, around the middle of the sixteenth century BCE, Tell ed-Daba was abandoned, marking the sudden end of Canaanite influence there.

So, independent archaeological and historical sources tell of migrations of Semites from Canaan to Egypt, and of Egyptians forcibly expelling them. This basic outline of immigration and violent return to Canaan is parallel to the biblical account of Exodus. Two key questions remain: First, who were these Semitic immigrants? And second, how does the date of their sojourn in Egypt square with biblical chronology?

{p. 58} Was a Mass Exodus Even Possible in the Time of Ramesses II? We now know that the solution to the problem of the Exodus is not as simple as lining up dates and kings. The expulsion of the Hyksos from Egypt in 1570 BCE ushered in a period when the Egyptians became extremely wary of incursions into their lands by outsiders. And the negative impact of the memories of the Hyksos symbolizes a state of mind that is also to be seen in the archaeological remains. Only in recent years has it become clear {p. 59} that from the time of the New Kingdom onward, beginning after the expulsion of the Hyksos, the Egyptians tightened their control over the flow of immigrants from Canaan into the delta. ...

The border between Canaan and Egypt was thus closely controlled. If a great mass of fleeing Israelites had passed through the border fortifications of the pharaonic regime, a record should exist. Yet in the abundant Egyptian sources describing the time of the New Kingdom in general and the thirteenth century in particular, there is no reference to the Israelites, not even a single clue. We know of nomadic groups from Edom who entered

{p. 60} Egypt from the desert. The Merneptah stele refers to Israel as a group of people already living in Canaan. But we have no clue, not even a single word, about early Israelites in Egypt: neither in monumental inscriptions on walls of temples, nor in tomb inscriptions, nor in papyri. Israel is absent - as a possible foe of Egypt, as a friend, or as an enslaved nation. And there are simply no finds in Egypt that can be directly associated with the notion of a distinct foreign ethnic group (as opposed to a concentration of migrant workers from many places) living in a distinct area of the eastern delta, as implied by the biblical account of the children of Israel living together in the Land of Goshen (Genesis 47:27).

There is something more: the escape of more than a tiny group from Egyptian control at the time of Ramesses II seems highly unlikely, as is the crossing of the desert and entry into Canaan. In the thirteenth century, Egypt was at the peak of its authority - the dominant power in the world.” More at:

http://users.cyberone.com.au/myers/archaeology-bible.html.

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3. Walter Mattfeld on Bietak findings re Avaris Four-Room houses [ANE] Bietak's 12th Century BCE Exodus, Walter R. Mattfeld mattfeld12@charter.net Mon, 8 Sep 2003

As Albright proposed that Israel's enslavement began under Ahmose I with the expulsion of the Hyksos and Bietak proposed an Exodus no earlier than the mid-12th century BCE based on a 4-room house he identified as possibly Israelite, and as a peiod of approximately 400 years elapsed between Ahmose I and Ramesses IV, I thought I ought to do some more "research" on the 4-room house.

The thought "crossed my mind" that if Israel was in Egypt for 400 years, ca. 1540-1140 BCE and her ancestors were of Northern Syria and Trans-Eruphrates, that pehaps they kept alive the tradition of the 4-room house which Bietak identified as North Syrian and Mesopotamian going back to the 4th millennium BCE. Sad to say, my search drew a "negative" !

Bietak discusses in some depth the "Mittlesaalhaus" in his monogram on Avaris. He notes it is an Asiatic design and first appears during late Dynasty 12, noting it appears in Syria and Mesopotamia as early as the 4th millennium BCE. The problem? His excavations reveal that the Asiatics eventually acculturated and assimilated to some degree Egyptian ways, and ABANDONED the building of the "Mittlesaalhaus," that is, they began copying the floorplans of Egyptian houses, of the "Middle-class" type. Soo, "goodbye" sweet notion that Israel "might" have preserved for 400 years the Mittlesaalhaus, to introduce it to Iron I Canaan and the Hill Country ! For the details cf. Manfred Bietak. _Avaris, The Capital of the Hyksos, Recent Excavations at Tell el-Daba. London. The British Museum Press. 1996 and pp. 10 and 49

Bietak: "According to Eigner, the layout of the houses resembles closely both the "Mittlesaalhaus" (fig. 8) and the "Breitraumhaus- ancient architectural types which occur in northern Syria in the second half of the fourth millennium BC. A "Mittlesaalhaus" was also an element of the palace of Mari (fig. 9). (p.10. Bietak)

"On the other hand, foreign house types were no longer used. The house plans, as noted were of purely Egyptian type." (p.49. Bietak) Bietak's proposal of course was NOT that Israel's captivity began under Ahmose I, that's Albright's notion. Bietak in his B.A.R. article suggests that Israel entered Egypt in the Iron I period either as captives of Ramesses II or wandered in with their herds about the same time (cf. pp.46-47. Manfred Bietak. "Israelites Found in Egypt, Four-room House Identified in MEDINET HABU." pp.41-49, 82-83. _Biblical Archaeological Review_. Sept/Oct 2003. Vol 29. No. 5)

https://listhost.uchicago.edu/pipermail/ane/2003-September/010346.html

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4. Manfred Bietak – Summary: Four-Room house & possible exodus of 12th century B.C.E.

In the following article, Bietak is not talking about Avaris or the Hyksos - they were gone long before the Ramesses kings.

He’s talking about some rude makeshift huts whose design reminds him of the Four-Room houses; but he comments that “Similarly constructed huts can still be found in Egypt even today.”

The evidence for a Hebrew/Israelite presence there in the 12th century B.C.E. is scant, but he considers the possibility of an “exodus” around that time. He comments, “if an Exodus (a flight of a group of proto-Israelite slaves) occurred, the order of the Biblical tradition should be reversed. First came the Israelite settlement of Canaan, which had already begun before their sojourn in Egypt. Otherwise they would not have demanded to return to this region after leaving Egypt. Second came their time in Egypt. Third came the Exodus from Egypt. ...”

Israelites Found in Egypt. Four-Room House Identified in MEDINET HABU Manfred Bietak

http://www.bib-arch.org/bswb BAR/bswbba2905f2.html

Reed huts more than 3,000 years old belonging to workers—perhaps slaves—and with the same floor plan as ancient Israelite four-room houses have been identified at MEDINET HABU, opposite Luxor in Egypt. ... Similarly constructed huts can still be found in Egypt even today. ...

A four-room house consists of three parallel long rooms separated by two walls or rows of columns, plus a broad room across one end. Often the rooms are subdivided, and sometimes subsidiary rooms are added. The central long room is thought to have been a roofless courtyard, often separated from one of the adjoining rooms by a row of columns. The four-room house is the predominant type of domestic building in Palestine during the entire Iron Age (1200-586 B.C.E.). In other words, it made its initial appearance when the Israelites began to settle perceptibly in Canaan in Iron Age I and continued to be the most popular house-type during Iron Age II. After the Babylonian destruction of 586 B.C.E., it entirely disappeared. The house-type endured for more than 600 years.

In scholarly circles today, the four-room house is often called the “Israelite house” because it is ubiquitous in the Israelite period and at Israelite sites, with only a few appearances elsewhere. The late Yigal Shiloh called the four-room house “an original Israelite concept.”5 Two Israeli archaeologists recently concluded in these pages that “the four-room house may safely be called the Israelite house.”* I am not so sure. First, there is a very old prototype from Mesopotamia and Syria, called the “Mittelsaal Haus” (middle-room house), which goes back to the fourth millennium B.C.E. Second, the four-room house can also be found outside the settlement area of the proto-Israelites. Perhaps, as has been suggested, the exceptions can be accounted for as belonging to Israelites living for relatively short periods in non-Israelite areas. On the other hand, some of the earliest four-room houses, at Tel Masos in the Negev, have been ascribed to the Amalekites,6 although the excavators claim the settlement is Israelite. At two sites suggested to be Philistine (Tel Qasile, stratum X, and Tel Sera‘#146;=Tell esh-Shari‘#146;a, stratum VII), four-room houses have been excavated, but they date to the end of Iron Age I (1000 B.C.E.) at the earliest and probably to Iron Age II. Apparently, if Philistines built four-room houses, they did not do so until some time after their settlement on Palestine’s southern coastal plain. Most of the four-room houses are from Israelite settlements. Even if all early four-room houses are not necessarily Israelite, the early or proto-Israelites were surely among their main inhabitants. ... On this basis, the workmen—perhaps slaves—employed to demolish the Temple of Ay and Horemheb in the late 12th century B.C.E. could have been early Israelites, although we cannot prove it with absolute certainty. Ramesses III campaigned against Sea Peoples (including Philistines), as well as Shosu Bedouin, and brought them back as prisoners of war. ... If proto-Israelites were in Egypt at this time, as the reed huts by the Temple of Ay and Horemheb suggest, they must have been close to Egypt prior to this time. It seems highly likely that to some extent they had already settled in Canaan or in its immediate neighborhood, and later were either deported to Egypt by force, or migrated toward Egypt in order to keep their flocks alive (as the Bible suggests). This reasoning would imply that if an Exodus (a flight of a group of proto-Israelite slaves)11 occurred, the order of the Biblical tradition should be reversed.

First came the Israelite settlement of Canaan, which had already begun before their sojourn in Egypt. Otherwise they would not have demanded to return to this region after leaving Egypt. Second came their time in Egypt. Third came the Exodus from Egypt. ...

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5. Manfred Bietak – Detail: Four-Room house & possible exodus of 12th century B.C.E. Israelites Found in Egypt. Four-Room House Identified in MEDINET HABU

http://www.bib-arch.org/bswb BAR/bswbba2905f2.html

The history behind the biblical tradition of Israel in Egypt has always excited scholars and laymen alike. The subject may seem somewhat worn out, however, especially in view of the current “minimalist” tendencies in scholarship. I do not claim to be a Bible scholar myself—I am an Egyptologist. But sometimes an outsider can shed new light on an important subject. I hope that will be the case here.

Reed huts more than 3,000 years old belonging to workers—perhaps slaves—and with the same floor plan as ancient Israelite four-room houses have been identified at MEDINET HABU, opposite Luxor in Egypt.1 These reed huts may represent extra-Biblical evidence of Israel in Egypt.

If true, Israelite—or proto-Israelite—workers were in Egypt in the second half of the 12th century B.C.E., more than a half century later than has previously been thought. This evidence, in turn, would have important implications for the historicity of the Biblical narrative.

Our story begins in the 1930s on the west bank of the Nile, where the University of Chicago’s Oriental Institute was carrying out excavations at MEDINET HABU, the area at the southern end of the Theban necropolis. The most conspicuous standing monument at MEDINET HABU is the so-called “House of a Million Years,” a memorial temple of Ramesses III (c. 1184-1153 B.C.E.), but numerous other temples pepper the site, designed for worship of the state gods connected to the Pharaoh’s divinity and his mortuary cult. One of these is the Temple of Ay and Horemheb. Ay (1327-1323 B.C.E.) was an important figure in the court of Akhenaten, the heretic king who tried to limit Egyptian worship to the single god Aten. Ay also played a leading role in the court of Akhenaten’s successors, especially Tutankhamun (c.1336-1327 B.C.E.); Ay may have figured prominently in Tutankhamun’s rejection of the Aten heresy and the restoration of the cults of all the other gods. In any event, on Tutankhamun’s death, Ay became the ruler of Egypt, even though he was not born into the main royal line. And Ay promptly began the construction of a memorial temple for himself at MEDINET HABU.

Ay’s reign lasted only three years—not long enough to complete his temple. He was succeeded by Horemheb, who was not of royal blood. Horemheb started out as a mere scribe and, after a successful military career, rose to the top rank. When Ay died, Horemheb assumed the throne. He was the last ruler of the XVIIIth Dynasty.

During his reign, Horemheb usurped the not-yet-finished memorial temple of Ay. (That is why it is called the Temple of Ay and Horemheb.) At the time of Ay’s death, only the temple rooms and some subsidiary buildings had been completed. The decoration, however, was of the very highest artistic quality. Extraordinarily fine relief carvings—of which, unfortunately, only fragments have survived—lined the walls. The temple was also embellished with fine statuary, including colossal seated figures of Ay himself. The courts in front of the temple, however, were completed only by Horemheb, who enclosed the temple in a magnificent colonnade of papyrus-cluster columns and reconstructed the forecourts with three imposing sets of pylons. In addition, he was careful to obliterate all references to Ay, simply replacing them with his own name. It was this temple of Ay and Horemheb that was excavated by the Oriental Institute in the 1930s.

In the course of this excavation, the archaeologists discovered evidence of some rude makeshift huts, whose dates I shall discuss later. The evidence for the huts consisted of narrow trenches chiseled out of the bedrock, from 6 to 8 inches wide and only 4 to 8 inches deep. In these small trenches were postholes, apparently for wooden poles or reed bundles bound together with ropes to be used as posts. The trenches and postholes still held evidence of the mortar or plaster used to secure the posts and the reed-walls. At two spots, postholes were found in pairs at ends of trenches, showing breaks. Here doorposts could be reconstructed. The excavators interpreted all this as evidence of workers’ huts, the walls of which were made of reeds plastered with mud or desert clay stamped around them and supported by intermittent posts in grooves in the bedrock. Similarly constructed huts can still be found in Egypt even today.

But what was the date of these ancient huts? Although some mud-brick domestic buildings were older than the temple at MEDINET HABU, the huts we are talking about are, as the excavators recognized, later than the temple. They are actually situated in the temenos (courtyard) of the temple and are built parallel to the temple wall—leading the excavators to suggest that the temple was still there when the huts were built and belonged to workmen assigned to demolish the temple. When was the temple demolished? We know that it was still standing in the time of Ramesses III (c. 1184-1153 B.C.E.). We know this because he built his temple adjacent to the temple complex of Ay and Horemheb; the girdle wall of the Temple of Ramesses III is slightly deflected from its course in order to avoid the nearby complex of the Temple of Ay and Horemheb. (That is actually how the excavators happened to find the Temple of Ay and Horemheb: They saw the deflection of the girdle wall of the Temple of Ramesses III and suspected it made this curve to avoid another temple complex.)

So the Temple of Ay and Horemheb was demolished no earlier than the time of Ramesses III’s successor, Ramesses IV, who reigned from approximately 1153 to 1147 B.C.E. Indeed, Ramesses IV is the most likely candidate to have begun the demolition since he erected a temple immediately adjacent to the north and found it necessary to move some of the perimeter wall of the Temple of Ay and Horemheb. Moreover, Ramesses IV demolished several temples in the Theban west bank; the spoils were found in the remains of another of his temples, in an area known as Asasif.2

From the evidence of postholes and trenches, the excavators were able to draw a careful plan of one entire workmen’s hut and part of another. The plan of the huts is actually marked in the bedrock. In vain, however, do we look to Egyptian house architecture for parallels.3 On the contrary, despite the flimsy construction of these huts, we find the same room configuration in the so-called Israelite four-room house in Palestine.4

A four-room house consists of three parallel long rooms separated by two walls or rows of columns, plus a broad room across one end. Often the rooms are subdivided, and sometimes subsidiary rooms are added. The central long room is thought to have been a roofless courtyard, often separated from one of the adjoining rooms by a row of columns. The four-room house is the predominant type of domestic building in Palestine during the entire Iron Age (1200-586 B.C.E.). In other words, it made its initial appearance when the Israelites began to settle perceptibly in Canaan in Iron Age I and continued to be the most popular house-type during Iron Age II. After the Babylonian destruction of 586 B.C.E., it entirely disappeared. The house-type endured for more than 600 years.

In scholarly circles today, the four-room house is often called the “Israelite house” because it is ubiquitous in the Israelite period and at Israelite sites, with only a few appearances elsewhere. The late Yigal Shiloh called the four-room house “an original Israelite concept.”5 Two Israeli archaeologists recently concluded in these pages that “the four-room house may safely be called the Israelite house.”* I am not so sure. First, there is a very old prototype from Mesopotamia and Syria, called the “Mittelsaal Haus” (middle-room house), which goes back to the fourth millennium B.C.E. Second, the four-room house can also be found outside the settlement area of the proto-Israelites. Perhaps, as has been suggested, the exceptions can be accounted for as belonging to Israelites living for relatively short periods in non-Israelite areas. On the other hand, some of the earliest four-room houses, at Tel Masos in the Negev, have been ascribed to the Amalekites,6 although the excavators claim the settlement is Israelite. At two sites suggested to be Philistine (Tel Qasile, stratum X, and Tel Sera‘#146;=Tell esh-Shari‘#146;a, stratum VII), four-room houses have been excavated, but they date to the end of Iron Age I (1000 B.C.E.) at the earliest and probably to Iron Age II. Apparently, if Philistines built four-room houses, they did not do so until some time after their settlement on Palestine’s southern coastal plain. Most of the four-room houses are from Israelite settlements. Even if all early four-room houses are not necessarily Israelite, the early or proto-Israelites were surely among their main inhabitants.

The four-room house at MEDINET HABU was not recognized as such by the excavators. I recognized it by pure chance when studying the Chicago reports. There can be no doubt now what it is, especially because of the very typical pillar separation of the center room or courtyard from one side room (a hallmark of the four-room house) and the fact that the four-room house first appears in Palestine at precisely this time. In one detail, however, the Egyptian example does deviate from the usual four-room house: Its entry is through the broad room rather than through the courtyard (the middle long room). (From the broad room, one would have walked into the middle long room.) But even this anomaly sometimes occurs in houses in Canaan, at Tel Masos, for example.7 It may well be that the entry to this house is through the broad room because it is the northern room and, as in most contemporary Egyptian houses, is designed to let the prevailing north wind enter the house, especially during the heat of the summer.8

On this basis, the workmen—perhaps slaves—employed to demolish the Temple of Ay and Horemheb in the late 12th century B.C.E. could have been early Israelites, although we cannot prove it with absolute certainty.

Ramesses III campaigned against Sea Peoples (including Philistines), as well as Shosu Bedouin, and brought them back as prisoners of war. According to the first section of the Papyrus Harris (one of the longest ancient Egyptian papyri still in existence, now in the British Museum), most of these Shosu Bedouin were dispersed among the main temples as slaves. Many scholars follow Raphael Giveon in identifying the early Israelites as a faction of the Shosu Bedouin.9 In any event, it is clear that the majority of early Israelites came out of this pool of wanderers.

The above-mentioned Harris papyrus recounts Ramesses III’s exploits during what was probably the last, large-scale Egyptian campaign in Canaan:

I extended all the frontiers of Egypt and overthrew those who had attacked them from their lands. I slew the Denyen in their islands, while the Tjeker and the Philistines were made ashes. The Sherden and Weshesh of the Sea were made nonexistent, captured all together and brought in captivity to Egypt like the sands of the shore ... I destroyed the people of Seïr among the bedouin [Shosu] tribes. I razed their tents, their people, their property, and their cattle as well, without number, pinioned and carried away in captivity, as the tribute of Egypt. I gave them to the Ennead of the gods, as slaves for their houses (temples).10

The Sea Peoples (including Philistines) who came originally from the Aegean or Asia Minor had their own distinctive domestic architecture. (No four-room houses have been found at such Philistine sites as Ekron, Ashdod and Ashkelon.) They may have occasionally adopted the four-room house, but only later. (But even this is doubtful, as excavator Amihai Mazar informs me; at the Philistine site of Tell Qasile, the discovery of a colored rim jar may be an indication that Israelites were present at the site and responsible for building the four-room houses there.)

The proto-Israelites, however, were expanding dramatically in the 12th century B.C.E. Archaeologists have recently found several hundred new settlements with four-room houses and related structures in the highlands of central Canaan. Therefore some proto-Israelites were very likely among the prisoners from the campaigns of Ramesses III and were employed to demolish the Temple of Ay and Horemheb. The workmen who lived in the four-room house in Egypt were probably slaves descended from the prisoners of war from Palestine or the desert of Seïr—perhaps early or proto-Israelites.

The next question is whether this four-room house in Egypt may be significant in dating the presence of proto-Israelites in Egypt (perhaps corresponding to the Biblical Exodus). I think it is. The demolition in which these probable proto-Israelite workmen participated occurred after the time of Ramesses III, no earlier than the reign of Ramesses IV—c.1153-1147 B.C.E., in other words in the mid-12th century. Not in the XVIIIth Dynasty, not in the XIXth Dynasty, but in the XXth Dynasty, the second of whose rulers was Ramesses III.

If proto-Israelites were in Egypt at this time, as the reed huts by the Temple of Ay and Horemheb suggest, they must have been close to Egypt prior to this time. It seems highly likely that to some extent they had already settled in Canaan or in its immediate neighborhood, and later were either deported to Egypt by force, or migrated toward Egypt in order to keep their flocks alive (as the Bible suggests). This reasoning would imply that if an Exodus (a flight of a group of proto-Israelite slaves)11 occurred, the order of the Biblical tradition should be reversed.

First came the Israelite settlement of Canaan, which had already begun before their sojourn in Egypt. Otherwise they would not have demanded to return to this region after leaving Egypt.

Second came their time in Egypt.

Third came the Exodus from Egypt. It is also possible that some proto-Israelites moved (or were moved) to Egypt directly from Transjordan, and only afterwards departed for Canaan. Such a case could be made for the Shosu whom Ramesses III captured in the desert of Seïr.12 But for most of the proto-Israelites the connection with Canaan must have been established before their journey to Egypt. Therefore, the presence of proto-Israelites in Egypt should be dated to a time when the settlement at Canaan had already begun.

According to recent archaeological surveys, the spread of Iron Age settlements ascribed to the proto-Israelites began no earlier than the 12th century B.C.E.13 These settlements were located in the central hill country of Canaan, while the Canaanites continued to control the fertile plains. However, the material culture—mainly pottery—of these new settlers is so significantly different from that of the inhabitants of Palestine in the Late Bronze Age that we must assume a new population with a pastoral background had arrived. Whether this migration was a peaceful infiltration or a military conquest is a question that we need not decide here.14 Suffice it to say that in the stratigraphy of a large part of Canaan, archaeologists have found a series of destruction levels in the 12th century B.C.E. indicating military actions by the Sea Peoples (Philistines),15 by proto-Israelites and by related populations. These are found not only on the coast, but also in the interior (at Megiddo, Taanach, Gibeon and Hazor).

The famous Merneptah Stele that mentions Israel in Canaan, not as a city or a state or a land, but as a people, can be dated to the late 13th century B.C.E. and is therefore sometimes cited as evidence for an Exodus at some time earlier in the 13th century. But Israel is mentioned along with Ashkelon, Gezer and Yinoam. These names follow a progression from the coast to the interior (Yinoam is southwest of the Sea of Galilee). The stele may indicate that the people Israel were still east of the Jordan at this time. At any rate, the Israelites (or proto-Israelites) clearly did not possess any land of their own at this point, because the hieroglyphic determinative attached to their name indicates they were still a people without a land.16

All this, I believe, supports an assumption that the settlement in Canaan took place no earlier than the early 12th century B.C.E.—in the XXth Dynasty. This was followed by the sojourn in Egypt (at least by some of the proto-Israelites). If there was a historical Exodus, it was probably a group of these people who left Egypt in the XXth Dynasty.

This finding also could have significant implications for the core historicity of the Biblical account. Ancient philology indicates that the historical reliability of oral traditions can be sustained for only about three to six generations—say 200 years at most. After that the historical picture fades into mythical darkness.17 This is as true for Herodotus as it is for the Hebrew Bible. Genealogical lists are the exceptions; they can be reliable for a much longer period.18

The books of Genesis and Exodus may have taken their final shape only in the seventh century B.C.E. Admittedly, the Biblical writers had sources. They did not write on a clean slate, a tabula rasa. There may well have been written accounts from as early as the time of the United Monarchy (the hotly debated tenth century B.C.E.), when we even find some references to court annals.19

If Israel’s stay in Egypt and the so-called Exodus occurred in the XXth dynasty, say the middle of the 12th century B.C.E. (and it may have occurred a little later—Ramesses IV’s reign is the earliest that the Temple of Ay and Horemheb could have been destroyed), and if the accounts of the Exodus were written down in the mid-tenth century B.C.E., this puts us just within the limits of historical reliability. (Another way of calculating is by the number of generations in the Biblical account. Gary Rendsburg has counted five generations from David back to the Exodus—back to Nachshon, Aaron’s brother-in-law [Exodus 6:23].)

Dating the Exodus to the XXth dynasty (mid-12th century B.C.E.) brings us significantly closer to the composition of the Biblical writings that incorporate the Exodus tradition.

Moreover, a date so late would be consistent with the description of the “Way of the Land of the Philistines” in the book of Exodus (what the Egyptians called “the Way of Horus”). The Israelites did not, according to Exodus 13:17, leave Egypt by the Way of the Land of the Philistines. By the XXth dynasty, the Philistines were already settled in their pentapolis—Ashkelon, Ashdod, Gath, Ekron and Gaza—on the southern Canaanite coast. The term “way of the Philistines” is no longer an anachronism. It would make sense for the Israelites to avoid this route.

From a purely literary viewpoint, the earliest Hebrew texts—like the Song of Deborah (Judges 5) and the Song of the Sea (Exodus 15)—that incorporate the Exodus and Sinai traditions date from very close to this time, in the opinion of leading scholars, including Frank M. Cross, J.C. De Moor, D.A. Robertson and others.20 In the article following this one, Baruch Halpern, a respected Biblical scholar, explains how these poems are dated and places their composition between 1050 and 1100 B.C.E.—well within 200 or even 100 years of the Exodus, meaning that they could very likely contain an accurate recital of core history. Indeed, people who had been in Egypt and participated in the Exodus may well have still been alive when these songs were composed.

Footnotes:

1. See U. Hölscher, The Excavations of MEDINET HABU II, Oriental Institute Publications 41 (Chicago: Oriental Institute, 1939), pp. 68-72, esp. 71 and fig. 59. See also Manfred Bietak, “An Iron Age Four-Room House in Ramesside Egypt,” Eretz Israel 23 (1991), pp. 10-12, and “Der Aufenhalt ‘#145;Israels’ in Ägypten und der Zeitpunkt der ‘Landnahme’ aus heutiger archäologischer Sicht,” Egypt and the Levant 10 (2000), pp. 179-186.

2. Manfred Bietak, “Thebes-West (Luqsor): Vorbericht über die ersten vier Grabungskampagnen (1969-1971),” Sitzungsberichte der Philosophisch-historischen Klasse der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 278, Band 4 (Vienna, 1972), pp. 17-26.

3. H. Ricke, Der Grundriss des Amarna Wohnhauses (Leipzig, 1932); A. Badawy, A History of Egyptian Architecture: The Empire (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1968), pp. 11-35, 55; E. Roik, “Das altägyptische Wohnhaus und seine Darstellung im Flachbild,” Europ. Hochschulschriften, Reihe XVIII, Band 15 (Frankfurt-Bern, 1988). The contributions in the following provide a panorama of the present state of house research in Ancient Egypt: “House and Palace in Ancient Egypt,” International Symposium 8th to 11th April 1992 in Cairo, ed. M. Bietak, in Untersuchungen der Zweigstelle Kairo des Österreichischen Archäologischen Instituts 14. Denkschriften der Gesamtakademie 14 (Vienna, 1995), pp. 23-43.

4. Recent summary of literature: John S. Holladay, Jr., “The Four-Room House,” in Eric M. Meyers, ed., The Oxford Encyclopedia of Archaeology in the Near East vol. 2 (New York: Oxford Univ. Press, 1997), pp. 337-342. Further reading: Yigal Shiloh, “The Four-Room House: Its Situation and Function in the Israelite City,” Israel Exploration Journal (IEJ) 20 (1970), pp. 180-190, and “The Four-Room House—The Israelite Type-House?” Eretz-Israel 11 (1973), pp. 277-285 (in Hebrew); Volkmar Fritz, “Bestimmung und Herkunft des Pfeilerhauses in Israel,” Zeitschrift des Deutschen Palastina-Vereins (ZDPV) 93 (1977), pp. 30-45; F. Braemer, L’architecture domestique du Levant à l’age du fer (Paris, 1982), pp. 102-105; George Ernest Wright, Ancient Building in South Syria and Palestine (Leiden-Köln, 1985), pp. 134-136, 225-229, 294-298 and Figure 31, 194.

5. Shiloh, “Four-Room House,” IEJ 20 (1970), p. 180.

6. Personal information.

7. Volkmar Fritz, ZDPV 92 (1976), pl. 2, loc. no 110b and 124 and ZDPV 96 (1980), pp. 121-135; Fritz and Kempinski, “Ergebnisse der Ausgrabungen auf der Chirbet Msas (Tel Masos), Abhandlungen des Deutschen Palästina Vereins, vols. I-III (Wiesbaden, 1983).

8. The plan of the second four-room house, of which only about a third is plotted, does not appear to contain this anomaly. The entry is not through the north.

9. Raphael Giveon, Les Bedouin Shosou des documents égyptiens (Leiden, 1971).

10. James B. Pritchard, ed., Ancient Near Eastern Texts (Princeton, NJ: Princeton Univ. Press, 1969), p. 262.

11. As illustrated in Papyrus Anastasi V.19, 3-20-6 from the time of the end of the XIXth Dynasty (c. 1200 B.C.E.)

12. W. Erichsen, Papyrus Harris I, Hieroglyphische Transkription. Bibliotheca Aegyptiaca V, Brussels 1933, 93 (p. 76, 9-10).

13. Israel Finkelstein, The Archaeology of the Israelite Settlement (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society 1988 [Hebrew, Tel Aviv, 1986]).

14. On this, see Abraham Malamat, “Israelite Conduct of War in the Conquest of Canaan,” in Symposia Celebrating the Seventy-Fifth Anniversary of the Founding of the American Schools of Oriental Research (1900-1975), ed. Frank M. Cross (Cambridge, MA, 1979), pp. 35-56; B.S.J. Isserlin, “The Israelites’ Conquest of Canaan: A Comparative Review of the Arguments Applicable,” Palestine Exploration Quarterly 115 (1983), pp. 85-94; Volkmar Fritz, “Conquest or Settlement? The Early Iron Age in Palestine,” Biblical Archaeologist 50 (1987), pp. 94f.

15. M. Bietak, “Zur Landnahme Palästinas durch die Seevölker und zum Ende der ägyptischen Provinz Kanaan,” in Festschrift Werner Kaiser, MDAIK 47 (1991), pp. 35-50; “The Sea Peoples and the End of the Egyptian Administration in Canaan,” in A. Biran and J. Aviram, eds., Biblical Archaeology Today II, Proceedings of the Second International Congress on Biblical Archaeology, Jerusalem, June-July, 1990 (Jerusalem, 1993), pp. 299-306; Trude Dothan, “The Arrival of the Sea Peoples: Cultural Diversity in Early Iron Age Canaan,” in Recent Excavations in Israel: Studies in Iron Age Archaeology, ASOR 49 (1989), pp. 1-14; T. Dothan & M. Dothan, People of the Sea: The Search for the Philistines (New York, 1992); I. Singer, “The Beginning of Philistine Settlement in Canaan and the North Boundary of Philistia,” Tel Aviv 12 (1985), pp. 109-122; I. Singer, “Egyptians, Canaanites, and Philistines in the Period of the Emergence of Israel,” in From Nomadism to Monarchy, eds. I. Finkelstein and N. Na’aman (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1994), pp.

232-238; Lawrence E. Stager, “The Impact of the Sea Peoples in Canaan (1185-1050 B.C.E.),” in T.E. Levy, ed., The Archaeology of Society in the Holy Land (New York: Facts on File, 1995), pp. 332-348.

16. H. Engel, “Die Siegesstele des Merneptah,” Biblica 60 (1979), pp.

373-394; M.C. Astour, “Yahweh in Egyptian Topographical Lists,” in Elmar

Edel Festschrift (Bamberg 1979), pp. 17-34.

17. D.P. Henige, The Chronology of Oral Tradition (Oxford, 1974); J. Vansina, Oral Tradition as History (London, 1985); O. Murray, “Herodotus and Oral History,” in H. Sancisi-Weerdenburg and A. Kuhrt, eds., Achaemenid History II: The Greek Sources (Leiden, 1987), pp. 93-115; D.D. Fehling, Herodotus and His Sources (Leeds, 1989); W. Burkert, “Lydia Between East and West or How to Date the Trojan War: A Study in Herodotus,” in J.B. Carter and S.P. Morris, eds., The Ages of Homer, A Tribute to E.T. Vermeule (Austin, 1995), pp. 139-148.

18. D.P. Henige, The Chronology of Oral Tradition (Oxford: Clarendon Press), pp. 121-144.

19. On the emergence of written culture with the state, see for example, T.N.D. Mettinger, “Solomonic State Officials. A Study of the Civil Government Officials in the Israelite Monarchy,” Coniectanea Biblica, OTS, vol. V (Lund, 1971); Volkmar Fritz, “Die Entstehung Israels im 12. und 11. Jh. V. Chr.,” Biblical Encyclopaedia vol. 2 (Stuttgart, 1996), pp. 202f.

20. Frank M. Cross, Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic (Cambridge, MA, 1980); J.C. De Moor, “The Rise of Jahwism. The Roots of Israelite Monotheism II” Bibliotheca ephemeridum theologicarum Lovaniensium (Louvain, 1990); D.A. Robertson, Linguistic Evidence in Dating Early Hebrew Poetry (Missoula, MT, 1972).

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6. Four-Room Israelite house - Ideology in Stone, by Shlomo Bunimovitz and Avraham Faust

Biblical Archaeology Review 28:04, Jul/Aug 2002.

http://cojs.org/cojswiki/Ideology_in_Stone,_Shlomo_Bunimovitz_and_Avraham_Faust,_BAR_28:04,_Jul/Aug_2002           

During the late 1920s, an expedition by the Pacific School of Religion discovered three houses of strikingly similar design at Tell en-Nasbeh, Biblical Mizpah. When the first of these was unearthed in 1927, excavators thought it was a temple, and Professor William F. Badè, the excavation director, held a church service in its ruins.1 Today, hundreds of these buildings have been found, and are now referred to by a generic name, the four-room house. Sometimes they are also called the “Israelite house,” and whether that is an acceptable designation is among the questions we will consider.

The four-room house has three parallel long rooms separated by two walls or rows of columns, plus a broad room across one end. Subsidiary rooms may be added and rooms may be subdivided, but the basic plan is always the same. Some scholars think that one of the long rooms, usually the center one, was unroofed, creating a kind of courtyard. Most of these buildings also seem to have had a second story, although only sparse evidence of this has survived.

This kind of house is found throughout the country. It is the predominant type of domestic building in Iron Age Israel (1200–586 B.C.E.). It first appeared in about 1200 B.C.E.—just as the Israelites were beginning to coalesce as a people in Canaan—and reached its mature form toward the end of Iron Age I (sometime before 1000 B.C.E.), roughly when the processes that led to the establishment of the Israelite monarchy were beginning. It dominated the architecture of Iron Age II (1000–586 B.C.E.) and completely disappeared after the Babylonian destruction of 586 B.C.E., which ended the monarchy and started the Babylonian Exile.2

Some scholars have suggested that the four-room house evolved from the earlier nomad’s tent,3 while others seek its roots in Late Bronze Age Canaanite architecture, especially in the region of the Shephelah.4 Most often, however, the popularity of the four-room house has been explained in terms of its close association with the Israelites as a people. The idea of the four-room house as the Israelite house was expressed by the late Yigal Shiloh, of Hebrew University: “In the light of the connection between the distribution of this type and the borders of Israelite settlement, and in the light of its period of use and architectural characteristics, it would seem that the four-room house is an original Israelite concept.”5

But neither Shiloh nor any other early proponent of the association between the four-room house and the Israelites suggested a satisfactory answer to the basic question: Why was this type of building so popular among the Israelites? Only recently has an answer been offered—an explanation that stresses the house’s function. In the view of Harvard’s Lawrence Stager, “The pillared [four-room] house takes its form not from some desert nostalgia monumentalized in stone and mudbrick, but from a living tradition. It was first and foremost a successful adaptation to farm life: the ground floor had space allocated for food processing, small craft production, stabling, and storage; the second floor was suitable for dining, sleeping, and other activities … Its longevity attests to its continuing suitability not only to the environment … but also for the socio-economic unit housed in it—for the most part, rural families who farmed and raised livestock.”6 John S. Holladay of the University of Toronto echoes Stager: “From the time of its emergence in force until its demise at the end of Iron Age II, the economic function of the ‘Israelite [Four-Room] House’ seems to have been centered upon requirements for storage and stabling, functions for which it was ideally suited … Furthermore, its durability as preferred house type, lasting over 600 years throughout all the diverse environmental regions of Israel and Judah, even stretching down into the wilderness settlements in the central Negev, testifies that it was an extremely successful design for the common—probably landowning—peasant.”7

While this functional explanation seems compelling, however, it fails to convey the full story of the four-room house as a cultural phenomenon.

More than 30 years ago, Shiloh himself noticed that the four-room plan appears in a wide variety of Iron Age II buildings—from common private dwellings to monumental buildings such as the citadel at Hazor in the north or the Negev forts. He reasonably concluded that “The four-room plan was thus used as a standard plan for buildings of very different function within the Israelite city.”8 Today we can expand Shiloh’s conclusion to include many more examples, from isolated farms and hamlets to main urban centers. Even though all these buildings haven’t been fully analyzed, it is clear from their contents that they served a great variety of functions—as residences for single soldiers,9 as dwellings for nuclear and extended families,10 as administrative buildings11 and so on. All these diverse functions were served by the same basic architectural plan—a plan that was used even in tombs.12 This “astonishing rigidity in concept,” as Volkmar Fritz aptly phrases it,13 also had astonishing durability—it lasted almost 600 years.

Is there more to the popularity and durability of the four-room house design than its functionality? And if the raison d’être of this structure lies only in its functional suitability for peasant life, why did the peasants in ancient Israel not continue to use it following the Babylonian destruction and exile, through the Persian period and thereafter? And why did they use it for other than domestic purposes before the Babylonian exile?

We believe that the four-room house was a symbolic expression of the Israelite mind—that is, their ethos or world-view. At the same time, this style of domestic architecture in turn helped to structure that mind.

Our approach to the four-room house issue concurs with the idea of a “new Biblical Archaeology” promoted recently by William G. Dever. He calls for a renewed, balanced dialogue between archaeologists of the Biblical period and the Biblical texts that provide an indespensable “window” into the thought-world of ancient Israel. According to Dever: “an explanation of what really took place in ancient Israel in the Iron Age must look not only at the material remains of that culture, but also at those ideals, spiritual and secular … that motivated those who were the bearers of that culture.”14 In light of current theoretical development in archaeology, it is obvious that an explanation of “what happened in history” cannot be reduced merely to adaptation—to materialist or determinist schemes that only take into account factors like environment, technology and subsistence and ignore the role of symbols, ideology and even religion in the shaping of society and in culture change.

At the start, we may dispel the argument made by some scholars that the four-room house is not really an Israelite house due to the fact that examples can be found outside Israelite territory.15 Most of the examples often cited, such as ‘Afula, Tel Qiri and Tell Keisan in the northern valleys of Israel, are not really four-room houses; while they may have four rooms, their configuration is completely different—comprising broad rooms and front courts or a mixture of rooms and courts.16

In other cases (for example, Sahab in Transjordan) there seems to be some confusion between four-room houses and pillared buildings.17 True four-room houses found outside Israelite territory mainly date to the early Iron Age,18 prior to the final consolidation of ethnic groups in the region. And some of these houses may actually have been located within a temporarily expanded Israelite territory.19 The remaining examples outside ancient Israel are very few indeed, and may be explained as representing ephemeral use by non-Israelites or by Israelites living in non-Israelite regions. Both temporally and geographically, the four-room house may safely be called the Israelite house.

The first scholar to suggest that the four-room house might be explained as a symbolic expression of the uniquely Israelite mentality and worldview was Moshe Weinfeld of Hebrew University.20 More than a decade ago, Weinfeld insightfully suggested that the house plan might have facilitated the separation between ritual purity and impurity—such as men’s avoidance of women during menstruation—that was so important to the Israelite way of life. Indeed, on examining the four-room plan one can immediately recognize its greatest merit, which is maximum privacy: Once you entered the central space of the building (whether an open or roofed courtyard), you could enter any room directly without passing through adjacent rooms. Other dwelling structures in ancient Israel during the Bronze and Iron Ages seem to lack this special quality.

In the last couple of decades, cultural anthropologists have written about what they call “the social logic of space.”21 The way people organize the spaces they inhabit reveals such matters as social hierarchies and cultural codes. Building layouts can be analyzed and compared for their “space syntax”: How, for example, does a particular building plan affect the way a visitor or inhabitant may have access to its different rooms? Which rooms must be passed through first? What parts of the house are most out of reach? The social meaning of space syntax derives from the possible contact of a building’s inhabitants with strangers as well as each other. Different space syntaxes, therefore, hint at different systems of social and cultural relations.

For example, if matters of purity were crucial in the conduct of Israelite daily life, then the unique plan of the four-room house facilitated it. Many societies segregate or restrict the movement of women who are menstruating; unlike the laws of other ancient Near Eastern societies, most of the Biblical purity injunctions22 do not require menstruating women to leave the house,23 but given other restrictions imposed on them, it is reasonable to assume that if some of these rules were kept, Israelite women spent some of their time separate from the house’s other inhabitants. The plan of the four-room house seems eminently suited to such a practice: Because each room could be entered directly from the central space without passing through other rooms, purity could be strictly maintained even if a ritually impure person resided in the dwelling.

Examples like this hint at a possible connection between the four-room layout and specific cultural behavior (like men avoiding menstruating women). The layout may have been developed to accommodate that specific behavior—or, perhaps, the behavior may have grown out of the house plan. That is, while the plan may have developed for other (perhaps functional) reasons, it might have also enabled (or even encouraged) the development of a certain “purity behavior” and discouraged other behavior that could not be accommodated within the house. Indeed, it could well be that the house plan and the behavior evolved together and shaped each other.

The four-room house also expresses the “democratic” or egalitarian ethos of Israelite society. In this respect, the space syntax of the four-room house is conspicuously different from that of other contemporaneous house types, such as the houses at Tell Keisan, Tel Qiri and Tel Hadar in northern Israel as well as Bronze Age houses. The latter have a more linear form—a visitor must pass through each room in sequence—which expresses hierarchy and restricts access or movement within the dwelling.24 The four-room house does the opposite: Its shallow, “tree-like” shape allows easy and direct access to each room from the central courtyard.

A recent study has demonstrated that large households with more families have a more complex and hierarchically structured arrangement of living and sleeping spaces, reflecting their complex social structure. People of lower status—whether because of age or gender or marital status—are more accessible in terms of the structural “depth” of space within the house than are those of higher status. For instance, in these houses, special living or sleeping areas are frequently set aside for married children as opposed to unmarried children; this is in contrast to the ad hoc sleeping arrangements or shared sleeping spaces often seen in societies with simpler, more egalitarian dwellings. We would expect to see some degree of hierarchical structuring of the domestic space in Israelite houses: In rural and elite, well-to-do four-room houses, rooms are often subdivided, enabling them to be divided hierarchically. But the potential for that is limited because of the inherent simplicity of the layout—the house, again, lacks depth. The four-room house plan therefore expresses the egalitarian ethos of the Israelites.

But was Israelite society actually egalitarian? Biblical scholars have long emphasized its democratic and egalitarian character as portrayed by the Biblical narratives, and many passages contain information about the egalitarian character of the Israelite society.25 But social ideology—the way a society represents itself—often differs from social reality. Indeed, anthropology teaches us that “equality is a social impossibility.”26 Niels Lemche has suggested that “instead of speaking of egalitarian societies it would be more appropriate to speak of societies which are dominated by an egalitarian ideology … A society whose ideology is egalitarian need not in fact be egalitarian.”27 So although the Bible reflects an egalitarian ethos, the reality was undoubtedly somewhat different. The “egalitarian” four-room house plan seems to have been more consonant with the Israelites’ ideology than other house plans, even though as a matter of social reality there were small and large houses, poor and rich ones.

The four-room house was really a kind of symbol—communicating the Israelites’ value system nonverbally to both its occupants and to the surrounding community.28 The house’s internal structure communicated to its residents the mutually-held concepts of a common cultural system, by creating an environment that reinforces existing social divisions based on gender, generation and rank, which are linked to cosmological schemes—that is, the people’s view of how the world is ordered. Just by living in the house, occupants are constantly reminded of these values and principles, which are thus inculcated in each new generation.

The house also conveyed a message to the outside community about the economic and social status of the household, sending signals about matters of social difference like affluence and taste. At the same time, it also seems to bear a message essential in supporting the egalitarian ideals of Israelite society as a whole. Building a house according to the traditional code of a society communicates the important message that “we’re part of the community,” thereby enhancing the cohesion of that community.

But how do we explain why the four-room house is so ubiquitous, even in nonresidential buildings? No matter how persuasive, the functional argument falls far short of explaining why this layout was applied not only to family dwellings but also to public buildings.

The anthropologist Mary Douglas has developed the idea that many of the Biblical laws are actually about order.29 Only in wholeness and completeness may holiness reside. Many of these laws, covering all aspects of life—from war to sexual behavior and from social conduct to dietary rules—are based on precepts that are rooted in that basic principle. All of these precepts embrace the idea that holiness comes from order and sin from chaos. Holiness requires completeness in a social context—an important enterprise, once begun, must not be left incomplete. To be holy, individuals must conform to the category to which they belong, and different categories of things must not be mixed together. To be holy is to be whole, to be one; holiness is unity, integrity, purity, perfection of the individual and of the kind. Hybrids and other mixtures are abominations.30 For example, garments of mixed wool and flax are forbidden and an ass may not be yoked with an ox (Deuteronomy 22:10–11).

The Israelites’ ideology of purity and order helps make sense of the astonishing dominance of the four-room plan at almost all levels of Israelite architectural design. To the Israelites, this conformity of design communicated unity and order and negated separateness and chaos. These strongly-held concepts must have percolated through all spheres of daily life, including material culture. We can imagine that once the four-room house took shape and was formalized as the container and embodiment of the Israelite lifestyle and symbolic order, it became the “right” house type—hence its great popularity. Building according to other architectural schemes must have been considered a deviation from the norm and possibly a violation of the holy order.

For these reasons, the four-room house became the Israelite house. The two are synonymous. At the dawn of the Iron Age, the embryonic versions of the four-room house and its more humble subtypes were options among a variety of house plans. The limited popularity of the house at this stage barely hinted at its eventual universality. Function may have played a role in the evolution of the layout, but one should not forget that for many generations Canaanite peasants seem to have managed quite well with other types of dwellings. In any event, during the later part of Iron Age I, the well-known form of the house crystallized and became dominant, mainly in the central hill country where archaeology and the Bible tell us that early Israelites settled. The few examples of the four-room house outside this region did not outlast Iron Age I.

Apparently, in this very phase of the Israelites’ emergence as a distinct, unique people, the Israelites’ ideology and mindset shaped (and were shaped by) the form of their domestic architecture. At this point, the house began to reflect Israelite cultural behavior—their egalitarian ethos, their need for privacy, the seclusion of the ritually impure and so on—and perhaps even became an ethnic marker—that is, a distinctive feature of the Israelites as an ethnic group unto themselves (see “Israelites and Canaanites: You Can Tell Them Apart,” in this issue).

Material culture should not be equated too directly with ethnicity,31 but when ethnic groups express their identity as different from other groups, they may deliberately use certain distinctive aspects of their material culture to communicate that difference. This can be done in several ways. People could adopt certain traits that identify them as belonging to group X and not Y (in many cases a certain item of clothing is used). These symbols, however, are arbitrary (that is, ethnic distinctions can make use of any material item), and are, therefore, sometimes hard to identify archaeologically.

Another way ethnicity is reflected in the archaeological record is through “ethnically specific behavior.”32 We have seen how, internally, the four-room house successfully expressed and reinforced Israelite values and way of life, as demonstrated by its growing popularity. And because of the importance of order and unity to the Israelites’ perception of holiness, the four-room layout soon became the dominant building plan throughout Israelite territory, and stayed that way for more than half a millennium. Whether it was deliberately chosen at the end of Iron Age I as an ethnic marker or only gradually, unconsciously took on this role (that is, as a result of “ethnically specific behavior”) we cannot say. Yet evidently, during the later part of Iron Age I and throughout Iron Age II, the four-room plan must be considered as predominantly Israelite, although others may have sporadically used this type of dwelling.

The Assyrian invasion of the late eighth century B.C.E. ended the northern kingdom of Israel. The Babylonian invasion of the early sixth century B.C.E. ended the southern kingdom of Judah. Thus was ended also the omnipresent ethnic symbol that was the four-room house. It exited the historical stage, leaving us with only hints of its symbolic meaning for ancient Israelite society. a. On Badè’s excavation at Tell en-Nasbeh, see Jeffrey R. Zorn, “Mizpah: Newly Discovered Stratum Reveals Judah’s Other Capital,” BAR 23:05.

1. George Ernest Wright, “A Characteristic North Israelite House,” in Archaeology in the Levant: Essays for Kathleen Kenyon, Roger Moorey and Peter Parr, eds., (Warminister: Aris & Phillips, 1978), p. 149.

2. The origins and architecture of the four-room house and its subtypes—the three- and the five-room house—have been the subject of numerous studies, as has the ethnicity of the inhabitants. See Yigal Shiloh, “The Four-Room House: Its Situation and Function in the Israelite City,” Israel Exploration Journal (IEJ) 20 (1970), pp. 180–190 and “The Four-Room House—The Israelite Type-House?” Eretz-Israel 11 (1973), pp. 277–285 (in Hebrew); also Wright, “A Characteristic North Israelite House,” pp. 149–154; François Braemer, L’architecture domestique du Levant à l’åge du Fer (Paris: éditions Recherches sur les civilizations, 1982); Lawrence E. Stager, “The Archaeology of the Family in Ancient Israel,” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research (BASOR) 260 (1985) pp. 1–35; John S. Holladay, Jr., “House, Israelite,” in David Noel Freedman, ed., The Anchor Bible Dictionary vol. 3 (New York: Doubleday, 1992), pp. 308–318; John S. Holladay, Jr., “The Four-Room House,” in Eric M. Meyers, ed., The Oxford Encyclopedia of Archaeology in the Near East vol. 2 (New York: Oxford Univ. Press, 1997), pp. 337–341; Ehud Netzer, “Domestic Architecture in the Iron Age,” in Aharon Kempinski and Ronny Reich, eds., The Architecture of Ancient Israel from the Prehistoric to the Persian Period (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1992), pp. 193–201.

3. Volkmar Fritz, “Bestimmung und Herkunft des Pfeinlerhauses in Israel,” Zeitschrift des Deutschen Palästina-Vereins 93 (1977), pp. 30–45; Volkmar Fritz, Tempel und Zelt (Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchen, 1977); Aharon Kempinski, “Tel Masos,” Expedition 20:4 (1978), pp. 29–37; Ze’ev Herzog, Beer-Sheba II: The Early Iron Age Settlements (Tel Aviv: Tel Aviv Univ., 1984), pp. 75–77.

4. Amihai Mazar, “The Israelite Settlement in Canaan in the Light of Archaeological Excavations,” in Janet Amitai, ed., Biblical Archaeology Today: Proceedings of the International Congress on Biblical Archaeology, Jerusalem, April 1984 (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1985), pp. 66–68; Joseph A. Callaway, “Ai (et-Tell): Problem Site for Biblical Archaeologists,” in Leo G. Perdue, Lawrence E. Toombs and Gary L. Johnson, eds., Archaeology and Biblical Interpretation. Essays in Memory of D. Glenn Rose (Atlanta: John Knox, 1987), pp. 87–99; and Shmuel Givon, “The Three-Roomed House from Tel Harassim, Israel,” Levant 31 (1999), pp. 173–77. There are two problems with this idea: The supposed Canaanite “prototypes” lack the broad room, which is essential for the definition of the four-room house type; more importantly, even if some Late Bronze Age architectural ideas were adopted during the Iron Age I period it does not say anything about the meaning of the houses during these periods. People can, and do, adopt cultural elements from other periods and cultures but vest them new and different meaning. See, for example, Abner Cohen, Two Dimensional Man: An essay on the Anthropology of Power and Symbolism in Complex Society (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul), p. 3; Ian Hodder, The Present Past, (London: Batsford, 1982), pp. 204–207.

5. Shiloh, “Four-Room House,” IEJ 20 (1970), p. 180.

6. Stager, “Archaeology of the Family,” p. 17.

7. Holladay, Jr., “House, Israelite,” The Anchor Bible Dictionary (1992), p. 316.

8. Yigal Shiloh, “Four-Room House,” IEJ 20 (1970), p. 190 (emphasis added).

9. Lily Singer-Avitz, “Household Activities at Beersheba,” Eretz-Israel 25 (1996), pp. 166–174 (in Hebrew).

10. Stager, “Archaeology of the Family”; Avraham Faust, “Differences in Family Structure between Cities and Villages in Iron Age II,” Tel-Aviv 26 (1999), pp. 233–252. See also Avraham Faust, “The Rural Community in Ancient Israel during the Iron Age II,” BASOR 318 (2000), p. 17–39.

11. Keith Branigan, “The Four Room Buildings of Tell en-Nasbeh,” IEJ 16 (1966), pp. 206–209. See also Shiloh, “Four-Room House” and “The Four-Room House-The Israelite Type House?”

12. Amihai Mazar, “Iron Age Burial Caves North of the Damascus Gate, Jerusalem,” IEJ 26 (1976), p. 4, n. 9; Gabriel Barkai, “Burial Caves and Burial Practices in Judah in the Iron Age,” in Itamar Singer, ed., Graves and Burial Practices in Israel in the Ancient Period (Jerusalem: Yad Izhak Ben Zvi, 1994), p. 149 (in Hebrew); and Gabriel Barkai, “Burial Caves and Dwellings in Judah during Iron Age II: Sociological Aspects,” in Avraham Faust and Aren Meir, eds., Material Culture, Society and Ideology: New Directions in the Archaeology of the Land of Israel (Ramat-Gan: Bar-Ilan University, Department of Land of Israel Studies, 1999), pp. 96–102 (in Hebrew with English abstract).

13. Volkmar Fritz, The City in Ancient Israel (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995), p. 142.

14. William G. Dever, “Biblical Archaeology: Death and Rebirth,” in Avraham Biran and Joseph Aviram, eds., Biblical Archaeology Today, 1990. Proceedings of the Second International Congress on Biblical Archaeology, Jerusalem, June-July 1990 (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1993), pp. 706–722.

15. Mohammad M. Ibrahim, “Third Season of Excavation at Sahab” (Preliminary Report), Annual of the Department of Antiquities of Jordan 20 (1975), pp. 69–82; Gusta W. Ahlström, The History of Ancient Palestine from the Palaeolithic Period to Alexander’s Conquest (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1993), pp. 339–340; Israel Finkelstein, “Ethnicity and the Origin of the Iron Age I Settlers in the Highlands of Canaan: Can the Real Israel Stand Up?” Biblical Archaeologist 59 (1996), pp. 198–212.

16. See Avraham Faust, “Ethnic Complexity in Northern Israel during Iron Age II,” PEQ 132 (2000), pp. 2–27. This research demonstrates that the houses were most probably built by Canaanite-Phoenician population.

17. See, for example, Ibrahim, “Third Season of Excavations at Sahab.”

18. James R. Kautz, “Tracking the Ancient Moabites,” Biblical Archaeologist 44 (1981), pp. 27–35; P.M. Michèle Daviau, “Domestic Architecture in Iron Age Ammon: Building Materials, Construction Techniques and Room Arrangement,” in Burton MacDonald and Randall W. Younker, eds., Ancient Ammon (Leiden: Brill, 1999), pp. 113–136.

19. Chang-Ho C. Ji, “The Iron I in Central and Northern Transjordan: An Interim Summary of Archaeological Data,” Palestine Exploration Quarterly 127 (1995), pp. 122–140; and “A Note on the Iron Age Four-Room House in Palestine,” Orientalia 66 (1997), pp. 387–413; Larry G. Herr, “The Settlement and Fortification of Tell al-’Umayri in Jordan during the LB/Iron I Transition,” in Lawrence E. Stager and Michael D. Coogan, eds., The Archaeology of Jordan and Beyond, Essays in Honor of James A. Sauer (Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 2000), pp. 167–179.

20. Ehud Netzer, “Domestic Architecture in the Iron Age,” 1992, p. 199, n. 24.

21. Bill Hillier and Julienne Hanson, The Social Logic of Space (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ., 1984). See also Edward Bruce Banning and Brian F. Byrd, “Alternative Approaches for Exploring Levantine Neolithic Architecture,” Paléorient 15 (1989), pp. 154–160; Sally M. Foster, “Analysis of Spatial Patterns in Buildings (Access Analysis) as an Insight into Social Structure: Examples from the Scottish Atlantic Iron Age,” Antiquity 63 (1989), pp. 40–50; Richard E. Blanton, Houses and Households: A Comparative Study (New York: Plenum, 1994), pp. 24–37.

22. There is almost a consensus regarding the dating of some of the Biblical laws (including purity laws) to the Iron Age. Many of the laws that are attributed to the Deuteronomist (“D”) are thought to have been written during the late part of that period. The dating of other laws, including the majority of the purity laws, however, is debatable. Most purity laws are attributed to the Priestly source (“P”), and while most scholars have dated P to the Persian period (e.g., Otto Eissfeldt, The Old Testament—An Introduction [Oxford: Blackwell, 1965], pp. 207–208; Alexander Rofe, Introduction to the Composition of the Pentateuch, [Jerusalem: Academon, 1994] [Hebrew]; see also Gordon J. Wenham, The Book of Leviticus, The New International Commentary on the Old Testament [London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1979], pp. 9–11), there is a recent tendency to date it to the Exilic period and to date some, or even most, of its content even earlier (e.g., David J.A. Clines, “Pentateuch,” in The Oxford Companion to the Bible, eds. Bruce M. Metzger and Michael D. Coogan [Oxford: Oxford Univ., 1993], p. 580). Moreover, a growing number of influential scholars date P on various grounds to the Iron Age (e.g., Avi Hurvitz, “The Evidence of Language in Dating the Priestly Code,” Revue Biblique 81 (1974), pp. 24–56; Moshe Weinfeld, “Literary Creativity,” in The World History of the Jewish People, The Age of the Monarchies: Culture and Society, ed. Avraham Malamat (Jerusalem: Massada, 1979), pp. 28–33; Wenham, The Book of Leviticus, p. 13; Richard E. Friedman, Who Wrote the Bible (New York: Summit, 1987); Jacob Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary, vol. 3 of the Anchor Bible Series (New York: Doubleday, 1991), pp. 12–13; Baruch J. Schwartz, The Holiness Legislation, Studies in the Priestly Code (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1999) pp. 32–33 (in Hebrew).

23. Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16, pp. 952–953.

24. In this regard, see also Banning and Byrd, “Alternative Approaches for Exploring Levantine Neolithic Architecture,” p. 156; and Frank E. Brown, “Comment on Chapman: Some Cautionary Notes on the Application of Spatial Measures to Prehistoric Settlements,” in Ross Samson, ed., The Social Archaeology of Houses (Edinburgh: Edinburgh Univ., 1990), pp. 103. For the examples, see Avraham Faust, “Ethnic Complexity in Northern Israel during Iron Age II”, PEQ 132 (2000), pp. 2–27.

25. C. Umhau Wolf, “Traces of Primitive Democracy in Ancient Israel,” Journal of Near Eastern Studies 6 (1947), pp. 98–108; Robert Gordis, “Primitive Democracy in Ancient Israel,” in Poets and Prophets and Sages, Essays in Biblical Interpretation (Bloomington: Indiana Univ., 1971), pp. 45–60; Ephraim Speiser, “The Manner of Kings,” in The World History of the Jewish People, Judges (1971), p. 284; George E. Mendenhall, “The Hebrew Conquest of Palestine,” Biblical Archaeologist (1962), pp. 66–87; and Norman K. Gottwald, The Tribes of Yahweh (New York: Orbis Books, 1979).

26. Morton H. Fried, The Evolution of Political Society (New York: Random House, 1967), pp. 27–28.

27. Niels Peter Lemche, Early Israel (Leiden: Brill, 1985), p. 223.

28. Richard Blanton, a leading scholar who has developed this concept of nonverbal communication, divides this phenomenon into two types—canonical and indexical nonverbal communication; see his Houses and Households, pp. 8ff.

29. Mary Douglas, Purity and Danger. An Analysis of the Concept of Pollution and Taboo (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1966).

30. Douglas subsequently changed her opinion, suggesting other considerations in the classification of pure and impure creatures (e.g., “The Forbidden Animals in Leviticus,” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 59 [1993], p. 17). This is part of a broader transformation in her views (Richard Fardon, Mary Douglas: An Intellectual Biography [London: Routledge, 1999], pp. 185–205). It is beyond the scope of this paper to discuss in detail Douglas’s ideas, but her initial interpretation seems to be more in line with the reality of ancient Israelite society (see also Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16, p. 728). In any event, it should be noted that she still stresses the importance of “order.”

31. See Fredrik Barth, ed., Ethnic Groups and Boundaries (Boston: Little, Brown and Co. 1969); Kathryn Kamp and Norman Yoffee, “Ethnicity in Western Asia during the Early Second Millennium B.C.: Archaeological Assemblages and Ethnoarchaeological Prospectives,” BASOR 237 (1980), pp. 85–104; Ian Hodder, Symbols in Action (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ., 1982a); Randall H. McGuire, “The Study of Ethnicity in Historical Archaeology,” Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 1 (1982), p. 160; Geoff Emberling, “Ethnicity in Complex Societies: Archaeological Perspectives,” Journal of Archaeological Research 5 (1997), p. 299 ; and Siân Jones, The Archaeology of Ethnicity (London: Routledge, 1997), p. 113.

32. Randall H. McGuire, “The Study of Ethnicity in Historical Archaeology,” Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 1 (1982), p. 160.

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WHITE WOMAN'S ANGER

Dagmar Brenne 10 August 2008

 


Behold a thing beneath the sun,

That should not be and never done,

A thing so vile, that God forbid,

The fruit of which cannot be hid.

White woman loosed from band and tether,

Oh white man, hold your house together!

*

For it is women, blond and fair,

That seek in Kenya lovers there.

A dusky love-boy to engage,

He doesn't mind her middle-age.

A Negro stud, no if or whether,

Oh white man hold your house together!

*

And could it be, the tryst bears fruit,

Gives her belated motherhood.

A hasty marriage, just in name,

A milk-brown child, there is no shame,

In multi-culture's panorama-

Could head for fame, just like Obama!

*

Does white man care, show his dismay?

Oh, scarcely so, he led the way!

He beat the track to Asia's town,

To foreign ways accustomed grown,

He chose no white spouse for his life,

He took himself an Asian wife.

*

For yes, a thing beneath the sun,

White man's decline had longer run.

When white man wed outside his race,

A slap into white woman's face.

A trickle turned into a flood,

when men took wives of Asian blood.

*

White woman lost her way, her path,

The white race turmoil's aftermath.

The fusion of confusing lives,

With dusky babes and Asian wives.

A shiftless, restless merchants' brood,

They have no land, they have no root.

*

Does not the ANTHEM sing her grace?

White woman's song, so fair of face!

And white man, who is faithful and true

And drinking songs for me and you!

A healthful land, no if or whether,

When White Men held their house together!

 

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