David and Solomon: In Search of the Bible's Sacred Kings and the Roots of the Western Tradition

by Finkelstein, Israel

  By the thirteenth century, the elaborate Trees of Jesse carved on the façades of great European cathedrals reminded all worshipers of the sacred continuity of the Davidic line. Rising from the reclining figure of David’s father, Jesse, the spidery tendrils of these ever-ascending vines of stone, paint, or stained glass extended upward in a great organic chain of divine authority, from David with his lyre, Solomon and his crown, to the later kings of Judah, to Jesus, the saints, and then to the crowned kings of the medieval world. Likewise, the great Ottoman conqueror and lawgiver Suleiman, nicknamed “the Magnificent,” consciously cultivated his public image as a second Solomon, to sanctify the historical and religious authority of his empire. In the Renaissance, the famous sculptural depictions of David by Michelangelo, Donatello, and Verrocchio universalized David’s embodiment of individual action and confident awareness of personal destiny.

  Later, in the paintings of Rembrandt in the golden age of Holland, in the poetry of John Dryden in Restoration England, and in the battle songs of the early American colonists, new depictions of David rose to oust mad Sauls and defeat boastful Goliaths. New Absaloms were condemned and mourned for treacherous acts of rebellion. New Solomons watched over grand empires. The stories of ancient Israel’s kings David and Solomon were no longer solely biblical heroes or mystical precursors of Christ’s incarnation; they were now also the role models destined to be followed by the earthly rulers of new peoples of the Book.

  Even today, an age when western monarchy has passed away in all but its ceremonial trappings, the power of David and Solomon endures. Whether believed literally as history or appreciated for its mythic power, the biblical narrative of the founding kings of a united Israel has remained an important part of western culture. However little most people may know the contents of the Bible, few need to ask what a “David and Goliath” battle is about or what “the judgment of Solomon” means. Put simply, without David and Solomon our world would be different. The biblical stories of David and Solomon offer a template for western leadership and an archetype of kingly power that influences each of us, consciously or not.

  ANATOMY OF A BIBLICAL EPIC

  To understand the development of this archetype, we first need to examine its written source, the Bible. Before turning to archaeology, it is important to consider the painstaking work of biblical scholars who have attempted to account for when and why the Bible was written. To these scholars, the life and works of David and Solomon are contained in well-defined literary units, whose history and date of composition can be identified through stylistic, terminological, and linguistic clues.

  In analyzing the contents of the various parts of the Hebrew Bible, many biblical scholars have concluded that the long David and Solomon narrative contained in the books of Samuel and 1 Kings is a part of a distinct literary work, known as the Deuteronomistic History, that spans the books of Joshua, Judges, 1 and 2 Samuel, and 1 and 2 Kings. This work—which we will have occasion to refer to again and again—is the main biblical source for the history of Israel, describing the stormy, miraculous, and momentous events that occurred from the crossing of the Jordan River, through the conquest of Canaan, to the establishment of the Israelite kingdoms, ending with the tragic destruction of Jerusalem and the Babylonian exile.

  It is called the Deuteronomistic History because scholars have recognized how much it has in common—theologically and linguistically—with the unique and last of the Five Books of Moses, the book of Deuteronomy. Alone of all the books of the Torah, only Deuteronomy imposes a strictly centralized worship on the people of Israel and prescribes a detailed code of legislation about everything from religious ceremonies to dietary habits, to lending practices, to the process of legal divorce. These laws are all conveyed as unambiguous divine commandments. If they are observed, the people of Israel will prosper and inherit divine blessings. If they are violated, the people of Israel will pay dearly for their sins. While Deuteronomy provides the law, the Deuteronomistic History is a long tale of how that divine principle played out in human history. It not only describes events and introduces biblical personalities, but uses them to explain why the conquest of the Promised Land was carried out with such violence, why the Israelites later suffered at the hands of their gentile neighbors, and why Kings David and Solomon, their successors, and the people of Israel either prospered or were punished according to their observance or violation of the laws of Deuteronomy.

  According to many scholars, the Deuteronomistic History appeared in substantially its present form in the late seventh century bce, during the reign of King Josiah of Judah (639–609 bce), approximately three hundred years after the time of David and Solomon.* But that is not to say that the Deuteronomistic History was an entirely new or completely imaginative composition when it reached its recognizable form. Beneath its uncompromising and uniform theological message, the Deuteronomistic History is a literary patchwork. It is clearly the result of the editing together of various earlier sources—not a single original work written by an individual or group of authors at one time. The text contains jarring discontinuities, snatches of poetry, quotations from other works, and geographical lists interspersed with long passages of narrative.

  Within the longer Deuteronomistic History, the story of David and Solomon—extending throughout the first and second books of Samuel and the initial eleven chapters of the first book of Kings—is itself a collection of earlier sources. Linked, and often interrupted, by poetic passages, long lists of names, summaries of heroic stories, and detailed geographical or administrative descriptions are three long compositions that narrate, in sequence, the major events of David’s and Solomon’s lives. These hypothesized early works are called by scholars “The History of David’s Rise” (1 Samuel 16:14–2 Samuel 5), the “Court (or Succession) History” (2 Samuel 9–20 and 1 Kings 1–2), and “The Acts of Solomon” (1 Kings 3–11).

  “The History of David’s Rise” tells the story of David’s anointment as a young shepherd in Bethlehem, his arrival at the court of Saul, his battle with Goliath, his flight from Saul’s court, his adventures as a roving warrior chief, the death of Saul, and David’s succession to the throne of Israel. It concludes with David’s capture of Jerusalem and final defeat of the Philistines.

  The “Succession History,” also known as the “Court History,” has as its overriding concern the question “who shall sit on the throne of my lord the king [David] after him” (1 Kings 1:20, 27). It continues David’s story with his establishment of Israel’s capital in Jerusalem and the complex and morally ambiguous sequence of events, actions, and personal turmoil that took place during David’s reign. It ends with his choice of Solomon to be his successor and his death as a feeble, impotent old man.

  “The Acts of Solomon” is, in contrast, a straightforward record of King Solomon’s great achievements, wealth, and wisdom—ending with his moral decline and the rebellions and dissensions that brought the golden age of Israel to a close.

  When were these ancient historical works written? The answer to this question is crucial to assessing their historical reliability. Until quite recently, most scholars believed that they were initially composed during or quite close to the lifetimes of David and Solomon. In a highly influential book published in 1926 and titled Die Überlieferung von der Thronnachfolge Davids (The Succession to the Throne of David) the German biblical scholar Leonhard Rost argued that “The History of David’s Rise” was a work of ancient political propaganda, written to legitimize the accession of David to the throne of Saul, and to demonstrate that David was the rightful king of all Israel—south and north alike. This narrative depicts David’s rise to power as completely lawful, showing how Saul was rejected by his own human failings and religious misbehavior and that David was elected by God. It explains that the transfer of the throne from Saul to David was simply an expression of the will of God, since “the spirit of the Lord departed from Saul” (1 Samuel 16:14), while the Lord was with David (1 Samuel 16:18). Rost and man
y other scholars after him have theorized that this composition was written by a supporter of the Davidic dynasty late in the reign of David or during the reign of Solomon, when the Israelites of the north challenged the right of the southern Davidides to impose their rule over them.

  Subsequently, the American biblical scholar Kyle McCarter described the narrative as a great apologia, intended to demonstrate David’s righteousness despite the violent and bloody events that made his rise to power possible. In its skillful portrait of David, it refutes the implication that David was a disloyal deserter and Philistine mercenary who was to be blamed for the death of Saul. It places the blame on others for the death of Ish-bosheth, Saul’s son and successor, and for the assassination of Abner, the commander of Saul’s army. In both of these acts, David is cleared of responsibility—though both acts were instrumental in David’s consolidation of power. In short, the apologia aimed to demonstrate that David was blameless in all his dealings with Saul and his family, and that he was neither a traitor nor a usurper. He was Saul’s legitimate successor, chosen by the God of Israel.

  Similarly, the “Succession History” explains why and how Solomon ascended to the throne instead of the elder sons of David—Amnon, Absalom, and Adonijah. This narrative reaches its climax with the anointment of Solomon, which also is seen as a divinely sanctioned act. According to Rost and the scholars who have followed him, the “Succession History” must have been written by a contemporary eyewitness or participant in the events it describes—most likely a scribe in the Jerusalem court, in the early days of Solomon. Both “The History of David’s Rise” and the “Succession History,” together with “The Acts of Solomon,” were believed by these scholars to represent the fruits of a great period of enlightenment in Israel, in a royal court that included the offices of both secretary and scribe (2 Samuel 8:17; 20:25; 1 Kings 4:3). Rost characterized the “Succession History” as “the finest work in Hebrew narrative art.” The great German biblical scholar Gerhard von Rad adopted Rost’s ideas and described the “Succession History” as the beginning of Israelite historiography and, in fact, the beginning of history writing in western tradition.

  When another German biblical scholar, Martin Noth, wrote his groundbreaking book on the Deuteronomistic History in the early 1940s, he too accepted many of Rost’s observations. He argued that the Deuteronomistic historian incorporated into his work these early narratives almost verbatim. Most scholars followed suit, accepting the contention that the major narratives about David and Solomon were originally independent sources written in the early days of the Israelite monarchy. We now know, however, that this theory is mistaken. As we will see, it is clearly contradicted by archaeological evidence. The familiar stories about David and Solomon, based on a few early folk traditions, are the result of extensive reworking and editorial expansion during the four centuries that followed David and Solomon’s reigns. Although they contain little reliable history, we will show how they provide an astonishing new understanding of the origins of the biblical tradition—and why it remains so powerful even today.

  WHEN DID DAVID AND SOLOMON LIVE?

  The first obvious challenge in assessing the historical reliability of the David and Solomon stories is to determine the precise date of their reigns. This must be based on evidence within the Bible, for we do not possess any contemporary references to David and Solomon on well-dated inscriptions from archaeological excavations in Israel or from the neighboring civilizations of Egypt and Mesopotamia.* We must rely—with due caution—on the chronological clues preserved in the Deuteronomistic History.

  In recounting the lives and reigns of all of the kings of Judah and of the northern kingdom of Israel, the first and second books of Kings in most cases note each king’s age at assuming the throne, the length of his reign, and the correspondence in years and duration to the reigning king from the rival kingdom. If we calculate backward from the last reference to a king of the Davidic dynasty—the mention in 2 Kings 25:27 of the release from Babylonian captivity of the last surviving Davidic king, Jehoiachin, in the first year of the Babylonian ruler Amel-Marduk (known in the Bible as Evil-merodach), we have a fairly secure starting point. Amel-Marduk is known from Babylonian sources to have ascended to the throne in 561 bce. Counting backward from that date, with proper account taken for conflicting evidence from other ancient Near Eastern sources, obvious scribal errors, suspiciously round numbers, or possible overlaps in the rule of kings and their successors, scholars have been able to construct a chronological sequence that stretches all the way back to David and Solomon.

  These dates—fairly accurate for the later kings and much rougher for the early ones—are obtained by projecting the biblical chronology back through the reigns of the kings (and one queen, Athaliah) of the Davidic dynasty who succeeded David and Solomon:

  At certain points this list can be checked against contemporary references to the Davidic kings in the chronicles of Assyria and Babylonia. The Babylonian Chronicle, for example, mentions the siege of Jerusalem during King Jehoiachin’s brief reign in the seventh year of Nebuchadnezzar, 597 bce. Manasseh’s tribute to Assyria is noted in an inscription of the Assyrian king Esarhaddon in 674 bce. The Assyrian attack on Jerusalem during the reign of Hezekiah is mentioned in the Annals of Sennacherib for the equivalent of 701 bce. Ahaz’s payment of tribute to Assyria is listed in an inscription of Tiglath-pileser III, dated to 734 bce. Correspondences to the reigns of the northern kingdom—which go back to the battle of Qarqar in the days of Ahab in 853 bce—also confirm the reliability of the general framework. (Another generally accepted synchronism is the invasion of the country by the Egyptian pharaoh Shishak in the fifth year of Solomon’s son Rehoboam—c. 926, according to the list above—but this poses significant, and far-reaching, problems, as we will see.)

  When we proceed backward from Rehoboam, the chronology gets considerably fuzzier. First, as previously noted, David and Solomon are not mentioned in any contemporary extrabiblical text, and hence do not have any reliably direct anchor to ancient Near Eastern chronology. Second, in 1 Kings 11:42 Solomon is given a suspiciously round figure of forty years of kingship, recalling the traditional biblical typological expression of forty years for “a generation,” as in the length of the Israelites’ wandering in the wilderness, or just for “a very long time.” David’s reign, begun in Hebron and then continued in Jerusalem, is likewise recorded as forty years. To make matters even more difficult, the passage containing the length of the reign of Saul, the first king of Israel, has been garbled by scribal copyists over the ages, reading: “Saul was…years old when he began to reign; and he reigned…and two years over Israel” (1 Samuel 13:1). Many biblical scholars have tried their hand at restoring the original number. On the basis of the sheer number of battles he reportedly waged and the prominence of his dynasty in Israel’s historical memory, they have suggested a reign of approximately twenty years.

  Unfortunately, scholars have generally taken these round numbers as precise indications for the dates of the early kings:

  The truth is that we can take these symbolic biblical descriptions only as a general indication of the time period when David and Solomon would have lived rather than a precise chronological reckoning of the date and extent of each of their reigns. The problem is compounded by the fact that we cannot even presume that Saul and David reigned in a neat chronological sequence, one after the other, rather than having overlapping reigns. To make a long story short, we simply do not know the exact number of years that David and Solomon each ruled. The most we can say with some measure of security is that they probably both reigned sometime in the tenth century bce.

  THE SEARCH FOR DAVID AND SOLOMON BEGINS

  The tenth century bce must therefore be our starting point for a search for the historical David and Solomon. As we know from the archaeological remains excavated all over Israel during the last hundred years, the tenth century bce was a time of upheaval. At city sites and villages, there is evidence of
a great transformation. The disintegration of the old palace-based civilization of the Late Bronze Age (c. 1550–c. 1150) had given way to the rise of new territorial entities and ethnic groups throughout the eastern Mediterranean region and much of the ancient Near East. The independent Phoenician city-states along the northern coast were growing in commercial power. The Philistines in the southern coastal cities were expanding their territory and maintaining close links with a weakened Egypt. Some of the old Canaanite cities in the valleys, like Megiddo, were experiencing a brief Indian summer of prosperity. And in the highlands long remembered as the birthplace of Israel and home of its royal traditions, a dense network of rustic hilltop farming villages in formerly sparsely inhabited regions marked the emergence of a culture and a society whose members would later identify themselves as “Israelites.”

  Archaeology is today the most important tool at our disposal for reconstructing the evolution of ancient Israelite society. Elsewhere in the ancient world, archaeological research has also transformed our vision of the past. The early history of Greece can now be told without resort to the mythic biographies of Minos, Theseus, or Agamemnon as primary sources. The rise of the Egyptian and Mesopotamian civilizations can be understood through inscriptions, potsherds, and settlement patterns rather than simply in tales of ancient wonders and semidivine kings. The discrepancies between art and literature, on the one hand, and documented, verifiable history and archaeological evidence, on the other, have made us see the founder myths of antiquity for what they are: shared expressions of ancient communal identity, told with great power and insight, still interesting and worthy of study, but certainly not to be taken as literal, credible records of events.