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

by Finkelstein, Israel

  In the case of David, we have already suggested that the early folktales incorporated into the biblical narrative preserve memories of the rise of a bandit chief to the rulership of Judah, which itself matches a pattern of political leadership in the highlands that had gone on for centuries. Likewise, the emergence of a northern highlands alliance—associated with Saul in the biblical tradition—is also consistent with the archaeological and Egyptian textual evidence. But one last element must be accounted for before we can attempt a historical reconstruction of the interactions of the northern and southern leaders, Saul and David. Nowhere in the biblical story of the early Israelite kingdom is there a hint of any serious threat from Egypt.* The Philistines are the most prominent enemy. Their raids against the towns of Judah prompt David’s saving actions; their attempts at domination in the northern highlands provide the context for some of Saul’s most memorable military feats. It was the Philistines who won the final, great victory over Saul at Mount Gilboa, and it was they who hung the headless bodies of Saul and his sons from the wall of the great fortress city of Beth-shean nearby (1 Samuel 31:10).

  What were the Philistines doing so far away from their coastal enclave? What were they doing in the heart of the highlands? There is no extrabiblical clue—archaeological or historical—that the Philistines ever formed a united army that could intervene so far away from their home territory. What were they doing in the northern stronghold of Beth-shean? This towering site, located at a strategic crossroads of overland trade routes south of the Sea of Galilee, has been repeatedly excavated and has been recognized as one of the most important Egyptian fortresses and administrative centers in Canaan in the Late Bronze Age, with its complement of Egyptian-style residency and shrines. In the tenth century, Beth-shean had far declined from its former splendor, but apparently remained a potential strongpoint for renewed Egyptian rule. The reason for the biblical reference to Philistine presence at Beth-shean and the highlands in this period may lie in the Philistines’ relationship to Egypt—and that might shed new light on the historical realities of the careers of David and Saul.

  It is important to note first of all that no Philistine cities are mentioned in the triumphal list of Sheshonq. This omission may be due to the damaged state of the Karnak inscription, but it may have a strategic explanation as well. Though their coastal enclave could potentially have tried to block the passage of Egyptian troops northward, apparently no fighting took place there. The takeover of the southern desert trade routes could only have been in the interest of the coastal Philistine cities, with their access to Mediterranean maritime commerce. The weakening of the aggressive northern chiefdom would have allowed them wider territorial security. The coastal Sea Peoples, including Philistines, had long served as Egyptian mercenary forces, and their role as Egyptian allies in this campaign and its aftermath seems quite plausible.

  But why were the Egyptians forgotten in this part of the biblical tradition? Over the centuries, as the heroic stories of this period were told and retold among the people of Judah, Egypt again slipped into a period of historical eclipse, whereas the Philistines remained present and grew stronger. By the time of the compilation of the stories, when the scattered local traditions were collected and woven into a single narrative, hostility to the Philistines was as strong as ever. So they were portrayed as the main villains of the piece. It is possible that the Bible’s reference to the Philistines attacking the hill country and establishing garrisons at Geba (1 Samuel 13:3) and Bethlehem (2 Samuel 23:14), and to the great Philistine-Israelite battle at Beth-shean, may, in fact, preserve a memory of the Egypto-Philistine alliance.

  The biblical tradition contains another secret that it only clumsily tries to hide. David fought back Philistine attacks on the western borders of Judah, but he also served as a vassal to Achish, the king of the Philistine city of Gath. He mustered with his men at the great gathering of Philistine troops at Aphek as they prepared to set off and deal a death blow to the forces of Saul. As a former Philistine vassal and chief of a region that was not attacked in the campaign of Sheshonq, David had a great deal to gain from a decline in the power of the northern highlands. A blow to the cluster of settlements in the Benjaminite plateau would have afforded the southern chiefdom a convenient opportunity to expand its territorial control northward in coordination with the Egyptians, or once the Egyptians had withdrawn.

  In short, the southern chiefdom could have been a passive partner in the Egypto-Philistine alliance. This could be the reason that—like the Philistine cities—it is not mentioned in the Sheshonq I list at Karnak. It could also have been the origin of a northern accusation that David cooperated with the Philistines and was, at least indirectly, responsible for Saul’s demise. David and Judah may have benefited from the fall of the northern polity and expanded to control some of the highland territories that Saul once led. A memory that in the early days of the Davidic dynasty Jerusalem ruled over areas in the northern highlands beyond the traditional borders of Judah could well have been the historical kernel behind the idea of the “united monarchy” that David ruled from Jerusalem.

  We do not know how long the Egyptians remained in the region or whether they managed to reestablish—even briefly—direct rule over Canaan/Israel. But sooner or later the Egypto-Philistine presence faded, and David and his heirs could have continued to dominate at least a part of the northern highlands. Thus in the immediate aftermath of Sheshonq’s attack on the northern chiefdom, David’s greatest danger might well have come not from outside enemies but from the hostility and accusations among the people of the northern highlands that he had betrayed or at least taken advantage of the defeat of their own leader, Saul.

  SAINT, OR TRAITOR?

  Saul, the first king of Israel, is depicted in the Bible as a painfully, even tragically conflicted figure. On one hand he is portrayed as a shy, modest, “handsome young man” (1 Samuel 9:2), a hero who saves the people of Israel from all their enemies:

  When Saul had taken the kingship over Israel, he fought against all his enemies on every side, against Moab, against the Ammonites, against Edom, against the kings of Zobah, and against the Philistines; wherever he turned he put them to the worse. And he did valiantly, and smote the Amalekites, and delivered Israel out of the hands of those who plundered them. (1 Samuel 14:47–48)

  On the other hand Saul is described as hotheaded, prone to fits of violent anger, and tormented by evil spirits. He twice tried to murder his faithful servant David and pursued him relentlessly. In his transgression of cultic law, he disqualified himself as a righteous ruler. The first book of Samuel puts it this way: “And the Lord repented that he had made Saul king over Israel” (1 Samuel 15:35).

  How to explain these contradictions? Many biblical scholars have seen them as evidence for the existence of two different sources in the text. The stories that look at Saul favorably have generally been considered to have arisen in the northern kingdom of Israel and preserved genuine, though vague, memories of the time of the first king of the north. Like the stories of David the bandit in the southern highlands, they contain quite specific geographical details that include what may be memories of events in the tenth century BCE. Saul’s bravery, courage, and tragic demise at the hands of his enemies would have long been repeated and elaborated as a commemoration of the emergence of the first powerful highlands chiefdom and a mournful reflection on the dream of a united Israel ruled from the north that came to a sudden and unexpectedly violent end.

  The anti-Saul, pro-David elements in the narrative reflect an entirely different perspective. They continually remind us why Saul was doomed to failure and why David became Israel’s rightfully anointed king. The two voices represent two sides in a now-silenced argument that has been woven into the overall biblical narrative. Indeed, some scholars have suggested that the entire story of David’s rise—detailing his replacement of Saul as God’s anointed—is written in the form of an apology, a literary genre well known in the ancient Near East,
used by usurpers who had to legitimize their accession to the throne. Yet this theory makes sense only if the texts were written in the tenth century. This is highly unlikely: not only is there no evidence of an elaborate royal administration (of the type that might have been expected to possess literary scribes and court bards) in the isolated hilltop village of Jerusalem; there is no sign of extensive literacy or writing in Judah until the end of the eighth century BCE.

  What we have in this early phase, instead, is a conflict of local, oral traditions that would only much later be integrated in a single written work. The assertions of one are contradicted by the other. The accusations of one side are countered by other side’s new explanatory detail. The partisans of Saul—the voice of whom can be found only in the background of the stories—would have maintained that David was no more than a bandit, a nobody who was accepted to the circles of the king and then betrayed him, an illegitimate usurper who undermined the throne of Saul and his family. To them, David was a traitor, a Philistine agent, who participated—actively or passively—in the military expedition that resulted in the death of the first great king of the north.

  The supporters of David had to answer these accusations. David would never have taken up a life of banditry had it not been for the jealous rage of Saul. Moreover, at every opportunity that David had to kill his pursuer, he refrained from taking that action, for the greater good of Israel. In one of the incidents, David is reported to have said:

  Do not destroy him; for who can put forth his hand against the LORD’s anointed…. As the LORD lives, the LORD will smite him; or his day shall come to die; or he shall go down into battle and perish. The LORD forbid that I should put forth my hand against the LORD’s anointed; but take now the spear that is at his head, and the jar of water, and let us go. (1 Samuel 26:9–11)

  No less meaningful are the words (regarding David) put in the mouth of Saul himself:

  You are more righteous than I; for you have repaid me good, whereas I have repaid you evil…. And now, behold, I know that you shall surely be king, and that the kingdom of Israel shall be established in your hand. (1 Samuel 24:17, 20)

  The biblical narrative explains why David’s alliance with the Philistine king was only halfhearted, little more than a ruse to protect his Judahite countrymen. When he and his troops were mobilized by the Philistines to march against Saul’s forces, he was conveniently excused from Philistine service on the grounds of possible double loyalty (1 Samuel 29:3–10). No less significant, when David hears the news of the death of Saul and his sons at Mount Gilboa, he laments them in the most beautiful, moving words:

  Thy glory, O Israel, is slain upon thy high places! How are the mighty fallen! Tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Ashkelon; lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice, lest the daughters of the uncircumcised exult. Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew or rain upon you, nor upsurging of the deep! For there the shield of the mighty was defiled, the shield of Saul, not anointed with oil. From the blood of the slain, from the fat of the mighty, the bow of Jonathan turned not back, and the sword of Saul returned not empty. Saul and Jonathan, beloved and lovely! In life and in death they were not divided; they were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions. Ye daughters of Israel, weep over Saul…. How are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle. (2 Samuel 1:19–25)

  Most important of all, the biblical tradition asserts that the events were all divinely directed and thus perfectly lawful. God himself rejected Saul and elected David to replace him. It was he who transferred the throne to David from Saul. All these charges and counterarguments still bear the painful memories of the events of the tenth century BCE. Yet they are neither completely impartial history nor even the spontaneous back-and-forth argument between the grieving supporters of a fallen leader and the partisans of an up-and-coming highland chief. They are the result of an extraordinary period of creativity—at this stage still oral, not written—and thus represent another layer of folkloristic material that would contribute to the biblical tale.

  By the end of the tenth century BCE, it was no longer enough just to cherish and celebrate the legends and achievements of local heroes. After the death of Saul and David’s establishment of a dynasty in Jerusalem, a wider highland identity may have begun to emerge in which the legendary figures of both Saul and David loomed large. At least in the area of Judah and the highlands immediately to its north, a new cycle of stories began to spread among the villages in which early heroic tales were merged into a psychological drama about the right of a particular dynasty to rule. In these early days and as we will see even more so in later centuries when a considerable wave of northern refugees came to the south, it was impossible for the southerners to disregard the inspiring tales of Saul’s election and the sheer scope and daring of his attempt to unite the northern highlands. Likewise, it was inconceivable that northerners would not be aware of the legends of David and his mighty men. What resulted was an embryonic national tradition that would be considerably expanded in every period when the rulers of Judah felt it necessary to counter northern accusations of betrayal and to contradict any challenge to the historical legitimacy of the Judahite claim to northern territories.

  These historical developments have always been seen through the lens of the biblical tradition—and in the countless works of art portraying the tormented Israelite king and the innocent shepherd boy from Judah—as due to David’s greatness and Saul’s tragic flaws. Yet the archaeological and historical context shows that David’s destiny was neither clear nor unambiguous in a chaotic period of regional conflict in the Early Iron Age. Violence, domination, and betrayal were the indelible memories of the struggle of Egyptians, Philistines, and rival highland chieftains to forge a new world in the tenth century BCE. And an understanding of that unfolding drama is not of mere antiquarian interest. In the struggle for survival by the people of the northern and southern highlands of Canaan, the concept of a shared identity—the People of Israel—was born.

  CHAPTER 3

  Murder, Lust, and Betrayal

  Legends of the Davidic Court in Jerusalem

  —NINTH CENTURY BCE—

  FROM BITTER WIVES TO A RAVISHED PRINCESS, TO cold-blooded killers and traitors; from secret lovers to betrayed confidants to out-and-out scoundrels—there is perhaps no more fascinating cast of characters in the Bible than the close circle that surrounded King David in his court in Jerusalem. The biblical narrative known to scholars as the “Succession History” or the “Court History” (2 Samuel 9–20 and 1 Kings 1–2) follows yet differs in tone from the narrative of “David’s Rise to Power.” It is a drama of strong desires and their painful suppression. It is the story of a royal court continually falling prey to the basest temptations of power, with a king who is noble enough to repent his own unrighteous acts, and thereby receive atonement for his sins.

  This part of the biblical story begins in the aftermath of Saul’s death at Mount Gilboa, when David is crowned king at Hebron by the people of Judah; his followers launch a campaign of assassinations to liquidate the house of Saul. Ish-bosheth, Saul’s surviving heir, and Abner, Saul’s faithful military commander, are both murdered by David’s lieutenants, allowing David himself to disavow any blame. Representatives of all the tribes of Israel come to see David in Hebron and anoint him king over the entire nation of Israel. With his daring band of warriors, David then proceeds to march on Jerusalem and seize it. Residing in the stronghold now called the City of David, the king strengthens Jerusalem’s fortifications. Hiram of Tyre, the powerful Phoenician ruler, acknowledging David’s greatness, sends precious cedar beams and skilled carpenters and masons to construct a proper royal palace for David in his new capital. Amidst his newfound opulence, David gathers a glittering entourage of scribes, military officers, mercenary bodyguards, priests, retainers, wives, and concubines as his inner circle. They become the cast of characters of the “Court History.”

  David’s wars and his state’s
territorial extent according to the Joab census

  Until very recently, many biblical scholars accepted the “Court History” as a reliable and largely accurate historical record. It was assumed that the biblical narrative was written in the court of either David or Solomon—close in time to the events it described. One of the primary reasons was its extraordinary wealth of detail. For King David is not portrayed as a typical Egyptian or Assyrian king-god—perfect, aloof, and above the rest of humanity—as in most royal biographies in the ancient Near East. Instead, he is a man with strong urges and painful weaknesses, which the text does not try to hide. He benefits from the execution of his bitterest rivals; he steals another man’s wife and has her husband killed; he weeps uncontrollably at news of the death of his rebel son, Absalom, who tried to kill him; and he fades into a cold, lonely senility as his various courtiers and heirs squabble over who will succeed him to the throne.

  Such details—along with the quite specific geographical descriptions of David’s sweeping conquests*—create an intensely realistic story. Thus, scholars have thought that at the time of writing, the memories of David’s reign must still have been quite fresh. And there was an obvious political logic to its composition: the official “Court History” was an act of royal spin control, intended to explain (and put the best possible light on) David’s actions and the selection of Solomon—who was not the first in line to the throne—as David’s legitimate successor. Taking the biblical lists of David’s court officials at face value, scholars have assumed that the mention of the offices of “recorder” (2 Samuel 8:16) and “secretary” (“scribe” in the Hebrew text of 2 Samuel 8:17) proved that written records were compiled and maintained in tenth-century BCE Jerusalem.