Moses the Man

 

In the Essays and Notes to the West-Eastern Divan (1819), Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749 – 1832) included a study about Moses the man. It is a panoramic view admirably presenting a mythological figure as a child of the real world.

Outside of the Bible there is not a shred of archaeological evidence for Moses or the Israelite exodus from Egypt, which is strange, if the census figures given in Exodus and Leviticus were even remotely correct. One doesn’t need to read Bishop Colenso to realize that there would be not enough ground to stand on for such a multitude, if indeed all the people had gathered at the entrance to the tent of the tabernacle: "How many would the whole court have contained? The area of the court outside the tabernacle was 1,692 square yards. But the 'whole congregation' would have made a body of people nearly 20 miles – or, more accurately, 33,530 yards – long, and 18 feet wide; that is to say, packed closely together, they would have covered an area of 201,180 square yards. In fact, the court, when thronged, could only have held 5,000 people; whereas the able-bodied men alone exceeded 600,000. It is inconceivable how, under such circumstances, 'all the assembly,' could have been summoned to attend 'at the door of the tabernacle,' by the express command of Almighty God" (Bishop Colenso, The Pentateuch and Book of Joshua Critically Examined, 1865). With an eye on the map, Goethe realized that “each stop is just two miles apart, a distance which doesn't even suffice, that such immense procession of people could gain the momentum to break camp.” In the conditions of the Sinai, such “procession” would leave enough traces of its existence, even after 4,000 years. Yet in the age of satellite tracking, scholars still have not a clue where some of the most crucial places are located. The maps in my Oxford Bible indicate two different locations for Mount Sinai: 400 miles apart!

So what is the meaning of these inflated census figures? The Pentateuch in its present form is a product of Exile (580 – 538 BC). My best guess is that the exilic author extrapolated his figures from the Babylonian census of taxpaying Jews living in the Diaspora.

Another question is the actual date for the exodus. The Bible-scholars’ favorite pharaoh of the exodus seems to be Ramses II, (1184 – 1153 BC), which doesn’t make any sense at all. Secular archeologists and Biblical scholars agree on 1410 BC as the date for Joshua's campaign, apparently without ever considering that it is preceding Pharaoh Ramses by at least two centuries. This leaves exodus with a pharaoh of the 15th dynasty – perhaps Khamudi or rather his assailant Ahmose I (1552 – 1527 BC). It tallies well with reported migrations and military actions on the Sinai, but not with great building projects, as Egypt just recuperated from a century of foreign occupation. Joshua’s alleged campaign is another headache for the historian. According to latest evidence, the undeniable trail of destruction that appears to confirm Joshua’s invasion is largely due to tectonic activity in the region. An adjustment of the dating for Joshua’s campaign towards the 12th century BC, on the other hand, is leading into a period where the settlement at Jericho was without any walls and defensive works. In fact, why should the Hebrew have entered the country as “invaders?” The artifacts indicate no ethnic or cultural difference between the indigenous populations of Canaan; the excavations give us the same pottery and the same architecture – domestic and public – the same DNA, extracted from the teeth of the skeletons. There is only one difference: the absence of pig bones in the garbage dumps of presumably Hebrew settlements. It confirms a dietary taboo; however, this can be dated back long before the earliest evidence for the existence of Yahweh’s religion (Israel Finkelstein, Neil Asher Silberman, The Bible Unearthed: Archaeology's New Vision of Ancient Israel and the Origin of Its Sacred Texts, 2001).

Like everybody of his time, the real Moses was a polytheist. The rabbis in Babylon give us the text of a mutual agreement with the god of the Midianites, on behalf of his people (Exodus 3: 1). The first article in this agreement explicitly is stating that Moses “shall have no other gods before me” yet this did not stop the man, in a time of crisis, from taking recourse to a forerunner of Asclepius the Healer (Num. 21: 9). So, when King Hezekiah (716 – 687 BC) or rather King Josiah (649 – 609 BC) had allegedly ordered the destruction of the shrine serving the “Nehushtan” (2 Kings 18: 4), these zealots ironically destroyed the last remains of the cult that may have preserved the genuine traditions about Moses. Other than that we only read about Moses the man what the rabbis in Babylon want us to know.

With one exception: Exodus (4: 24) seems to have preserved a fragment of oral tradition of which the surrounding circumstances are now lost: “And it came to pass by the way in the inn, that God met him, and sought to kill him. Then Zipporah took a sharp stone, and cut off the foreskin of her son, and cast it at his feet, and said, Surely, a bloody husband are you to me. So he let him go: then she said, a bloody husband you are, because of the circumcision.”

I have a strong suspicion that we are dealing here with a folktale, a cycle of terse little stories and pithy sayings concerning Moses the fox, who defied the powers to be and even made the gods dance to his tune, which is quite different from the picture in the exilic account, which is presenting us with a man of brawn instead of brains. “In cold blood, he murders an Egyptian, because he had smitten an Israelite. Yet this patriotic murder is discovered, and Moses has to flee the country. For someone capable of such action, there is no need to inquire in his breeding, since he has made his appearance in the state of raw nature. He is said to have been favored by a princess and to have received an education at court. Nothing of this has any effect on him; he has become a remarkable and strong man, but under the skin he remains a savage no matter what the circumstances. And as such we meet him again in exile: curt and introvert, and barely able to communicate. His strong arm earns him the affection of a Midianite priest and prince, who welcomes him into his family. Now he learns about life in the desert, the place of action for his future as commander and chief. On the map the Midianites occupy the land at Mount Horeb, on the western board of the smaller inlet of the Red Sea, from where they stretch their territory towards Moab and the Arnon. From early on we hear of them as traders, sending their caravans to Canaan and Egypt. This is the culture that shelters Moses, where he lives in isolation as a shepherd. It is the saddest condition in which an excellent man can find himself, who is born to anything but thinking and speculating and who is spoiling for action” (Goethe).

I must admit, I find it difficult to see the “excellence” in Moses’ character. We remember Numbers (31: 7-11) when he “warred against the Midianites,” the very people who had offered him in his hour of need a roof over his head and even the hand of their women in marriage. “As God commanded Moses," (how so? Has this god not originated from the Midianites?), "they slew all the males and the kings of Midian, and took all the women and their little ones, and all their cattle, flocks, and goods. And they burnt all their cities wherein they dwelt with fire.” Not that this act of treachery should have come as a surprise! In the Bible it is depicted as a “miracle,” but no matter how we look at it, Exodus (12: 29; 12: 35) is telling the grim story of the earliest act of sheer terrorism on record. After Pharaoh had turned a deaf ear to the petitions of the Hebrew elders, Moses’ people “under the pretext of preparing a big festival cajole their neighbors to provide gold and silver ware, and the very moment when the Egyptians believe the Israelites to be occupied in harmless festivities, they fall victim to a kind of reversed Sicilian Vesper: the foreigner murders the native, the guest his host, and in consequence of a brutal policy in a country where the law of the land favors especially the firstborn, their special task force singles out the firstborn in order to keep the surviving heirs busy with litigations, and so in a hasty escape evade immediate vengeance. The ploy succeeds; the assassin is expelled instead of being punished.” Goethe draws a comparison to the Sicilian Vesper and one really has to ask, what is the feast of atonement meant to atone for? Surely, if Passover commemorates the escape from Egyptian bondage, it also commemorates how this was accomplished. The blood of the lambs on the lintel was meant to be a sign for the Angel of Death to leave this house alone. Angels, however, know their own, it is terrorists who need directions. “Only later, the king assembles his forces, but the horsemen and chariots, usually the terror of the foot-soldiers, are given battle on swampy ground and lose the uneven contest against the swift and lightly armed Israelite rear-guard; probably the same determined and courageous task force which had exercised its skills in the general massacre: we shall continue to follow their trail and will not fail to recognize the brutal signature of their deeds” (Goethe).

Goethe thinks of Moses as the captain of his people and criticizes him as a tyrannical figure with “unfortunately even less talent for strategy than as an administrator. He feels his insignificance in the greater scheme of things, realizes that he can’t make a difference with his strong arm alone, and yet is incapable of designing a plan. And even if he were able, he is too awkward to express his intentions or execute his designs in a way that would show him in a favorable light. Frequent discontent and mutinies, uprisings which even involve Aaron and his own wife, flare up time and again, a testimony how little Moses is suited to fill his position,” and when “Miriam eventually passes away, this happens only a short time after she had revolted against Moses, hardly a coincidence” (Goethe).

Acute observations, but the exilic narrator clearly had a different idea about the protagonist of this story. Instead of a politician and strategist, the account is giving us the portrait of a charismatic shaman. In Caleb and Joshua's band he is playing the role of the tribe’s medicine man, feared for his magic powers (Exodus, 2: 12; 12: 29; 12: 35). From a distance Moses is casting evil spells on the enemy while Joshua and Caleb do the fighting (Exodus, 17: 8-11). His connection with the numinous grows into a reign of terror, even instills a mutual killing frenzy among his own people (Exodus, 32: 27). In the end “Moses himself disappears, not unlike Aaron, and we should be very mistaken, if not Joshua and Caleb, in order to bring the thing to a conclusion, had decided to end the for a long time insufferable rule of a bigoted mind and dispatch Moses himself to follow the many unfortunate souls whose untimely demise he had on his conscience” (Goethe).

© – 5/26/2009 – by michael sympson, 2,000 words, all rights reserved