Surprisingly, Jason’s efforts did not meet with an immediate rejection from the Jerusalem populace. The first few years of his high priestship were relatively tranquil, so much so that Antiochus IV received a favorable welcome when he visited Jerusalem several years later as part of a triumphal tour of his empire. Nonetheless, this appearance of tranquility was soon shattered when the high priest was done in by individuals who had learned from Jason himself how to bribe their way to the top. Three or four years after his succession Jason sent Menelaus, a brother of his brother’s former opponent Simon, to Antioch on official business. Seizing the opportunity, as Jason had done earlier, Menelaus offered a larger bribe to Antiochus, who appointed him as the new high priest. This led to Jason’s hasty retreat across the Jordan River, where he may have sought the support of the Tobiads (who, however, eventually came down on the side of Menelaus).
Antiochus IV’s decision to intervene in high-priestly politics, which may be viewed as a logical extension of his earlier activities, was bound both to worsen Seleucid-Jewish relations and to exacerbate difficulties among Jews. First, Menelaus was not a member of the family that had traditionally provided the Jews with their high priest. The Oniads traced their lineage back to Zadok, whom Solomon had secured in this position, and Jews worldwide generally agreed that Zadok’s descendants had been chosen by God for the priestly leadership. As noted above, during both Persian and Hellenistic times the office of high priest had expanded to the point that he was leader in secular and economic matters, as well as in religious affairs. Was the issue of Zadokite pedigree, which from the Jewish perspective was crucial, brought to Antiochus’s attention? And would he have cared if it had been? We simply do not know, but apparently here again financial concerns dominated his thinking.
It was in the realm of finances that Menelaus managed to run afoul of both his Seleucid overlords and his Jewish subjects. Having promised Antiochus IV more than he could deliver even through increased taxation and further diversion of Temple revenues, Menelaus resorted to bribery, with golden vessels providing the resources and a Seleucid tax collector as the chief beneficiary. Onias III, still alive and in Antioch, sought to expose these activities, but was killed by Menelaus and his Syrian allies. When Antiochus IV learned that his tax collector was seeking to enrich himself at royal expense, he had his official executed, but no action was taken against Menelaus. Menelaus even managed to regain the king’s favor when a delegation from Jerusalem, enraged by the actions of Menelaus and his supporters, took their complaints against him directly to Antiochus. Again, his success was due in part to bribery.
Jerusalem could not have been a happy place when it was learned that members of its delegation were condemned to death, while Menelaus got off scot-free. Presumably most Jews, apart from those closely allied to the current high priest and dependent on his largesse, were growing increasingly dissatisfied with Seleucid rule, which had begun so auspiciously only thirty years earlier. Perhaps there was also widespread dissatisfaction with the rate and direction of hellenizing among the Jerusalem Antiochenes and others.
Antiochus too may have been angered that the high priest he had appointed could not maintain both a steady flow of income and a tranquil populace. As he planned his next major campaign, against Egypt, he was probably more concerned about the former, but he could not ignore the latter. Trouble in Judea would divert needed attention and resources.
Antiochus achieved notable victories in his first campaign against a weakened Ptolemaic empire. Returning triumphantly north from these initial successes, he stopped in Jerusalem during the fall of 169 BCE and used this as an opportunity to expropriate huge sums in gold and silver from the Temple treasury. From the perspective of almost all the Jewish community, this was an illegal and impious action. From Antiochus’s point of view, he was only helping himself to what was lawfully his, with the active support of the Jewish high priest Menelaus. Antiochus had high hopes for a repeat performance when he embarked on his second Egyptian campaign the following year. At first, everything went his way, as he and his victorious troops marched up the banks of the Nile toward Alexandria. But at that very moment, as if on cue, a Roman envoy arrived on the scene and demanded that Antiochus immediately halt his advance and return home. A humiliated Antiochus, unwilling to oppose a force that had humbled his father some years earlier, could only acquiesce.
During this second Egyptian campaign word spread through Judea that Antiochus had died. Emboldened, the exiled Jason returned at the head of a small army to retake Jerusalem. When he and his followers embarked on the systematic slaughter of their enemies, the populace, which otherwise would probably have taken Jason’s side, turned against him and moved to restore Menelaus. Antiochus IV, on his way home from Egypt and in no mood to put up with a rebellion, also actively intervened. The result was further bloodshed and the permanent installation of royal officials who would be able to look out for Antiochus’s and Menelaus’s best interests at close range.
This brings us to 167 BCE. In hindsight we might think that the course of events from late in the reign of Seleucus IV to this point in Antiochus’s had been leading inescapably to confrontation. For those on all sides who were living through these events, it probably appeared much more mundane. Antiochus needed money, loyalty, and occasionally troops from his subject peoples. At any given moment, there were bound to be problems as well as bright spots throughout his empire. For those in Jerusalem who supported Antiochus, there was a sense that the major source of difficulty lay with their fellow Jews, who stubbornly held on to outmoded ideas and customs and refused to embrace the opportunities that greater participation in the Hellenistic world would afford. No one was talking about the complete abandonment of Judaism, only its modification and updating. Among those who opposed Antiochus, there were many who saw great value in Hellenism, but wished to pursue it in other directions, at different speeds, or under the governance of their earlier overlords, the Ptolemies, who probably looked better as conditions under the Seleucids grew worse. At this point, there were probably few who felt that the very existence of Judaism was at stake.
All of this changed during the second half of 167. The events of those months are easy enough to narrate; explaining them is more difficult. It began when Antiochus sent his general Apollonius to Jerusalem at the head of an army of mercenaries, ostensibly to end feuding among the city’s factions. But he soon initiated a series of more permanent changes. First, he tore down the defensive walls of Jerusalem, allowing for the creation of a single fortified portion within the city called the Akra (“citadel” in Greek). There were gathered Syrian and mercenary forces, foreign residents, and those Jews who allied themselves with Antiochus, including the high priest Menelaus, who along with his associates provided the Seleucids with the detailed knowledge they needed to proceed. Antiochus then imposed a harsh new system of taxation on the Jews.
Such onerous actions were but a prelude to the unprecedented ones that followed. Another Seleucid official arrived in Jerusalem with a decree that struck at the very heart of Judaism. All distinctive Jewish customs and ceremonies were forbidden, including Sabbath and festival observance and circumcision. All Torah scrolls were to be seized and burned. All sacrifices and offerings to God at the Jerusalem Temple were abolished. Anyone who persisted in carrying out these or other Jewish rites was subject to the death penalty. To demonstrate that the provisions of these decrees were not empty threats, those in charge of Seleucid forces, together with their allies among the Jews, began a concerted and public effort to implement them. Nowhere were their actions more provocative than at the Temple itself, which they turned into a place of worship for the Greek god Zeus Olympius. The altar on which daily sacrifices had been offered to the God of Israel was desecrated, and in its place an altar to Zeus was erected. On 25 Kislev 167 BCE (during the first part of the winter) a pig was sacrificed on this altar, a direct insult to the traditions of Judaism. Statues of Greek gods appeared in the Temple and elsewhere in Je
rusalem. Throughout Judea, into Samaria, and to a lesser degree elsewhere in his empire Antiochus IV seemed determined that the monotheistic faith of Israel be utterly destroyed and that those brave or foolish enough to resist be killed.
It is impossible to determine what percentage of Jerusalem’s population actively supported such efforts. Beyond the high priest and his associates, that number may have been small. It is also difficult to know how many actively opposed Antiochus’s decrees. For many of those who did, the initial action was to abandon Jerusalem for the countryside. Most of the populace probably did nothing, the demands of family and business dictating a policy of noninvolvement. When active resistance arose, it originated in the small towns of Judea, not in Jerusalem. This was the Maccabean revolt. Its beginnings, initial successes, and varied results constitute major elements in the final century of the Hellenistic period in Judea. But before turning to these events, let us consider the enigma that is Antiochus IV.
What was anomalous about Antiochus IV’s activities was his determined effort to wipe out a religion. By and large, ancient polytheists were tolerant of the beliefs and practices of other peoples. In a world populated by a large number of divine beings, there was no sense that any of them needed to be forcibly eliminated. Deities might show themselves to be weak, ineffectual, fickle, unpredictable, or otherwise problematic. In such cases, adherents might choose to cease worshiping specific gods or alternatively to show their devotion in different ways. The only precedent to Antiochus’s actions is found more than a thousand years earlier in Egypt, when Pharaoh Akhenaten attempted to eliminate all gods except the Aten (the solar disk)—and, of course, himself. But Akhenaten’s unsuccessful example, even if known to Antiochus IV, could hardly have constituted the major impulse that drove him.
The classic scholarly explanation seeks the primary impetus in Antiochus’s desire to promote a pan-Hellenistic culture, including religion, that would harmoniously unite all of his subjects under one banner. It is argued that Antiochus saw himself as a veritable incarnation of Zeus, especially Olympian Zeus. This would explain his order to turn the Jerusalem Temple into a center for the worship of Zeus Olympius and would clarify his epithet, Epiphanes, or “God-manifest.” But the evidence indicates that such long-range, long-term goals far exceeded whatever Antiochus had in mind. At the other extreme is the idea that Antiochus had nothing in mind, that in fact he was out of his mind, driven by delusions or caught up in the eccentricities of an unstable personality. Many stories that circulated about Antiochus pointed up odd features in his personality and his actions. Not without cause did punning satirists of the day change the solemn epithet Epiphanes into Epimanes, meaning “madman.” But such an appeal to the irrational is also at odds with the recorded facts of Antiochus’s reign. After all, this Seleucid monarch could claim many accomplishments, and his assault on the Jewish religion was not capricious or mindless.
Other explanations attribute Antiochus’s actions primarily to interest in money or in politics. According to one, Seleucid financial obligations had all but bankrupted the empire, and Antiochus needed to get additional funding in any way possible. But in fact Antiochus’s circumstances were not so dire as commonly portrayed, and even if they were, an attack on the Jewish religion seems an odd and ineffectual way to achieve solvency. Antiochus’s interest in political stability may have led him to support Menelaus at all costs and against all enemies. But if that were the primary goal of Seleucid policy toward the Jews, less provocative means could have been devised to achieve it.
Perhaps Antiochus had learned the value of suppressing potentially rebellious religious cults during his stay at Rome. In 186 BCE, while he was there, the Roman senate had attempted to suppress the worship of Dionysus/Bacchus on the grounds that its reportedly orgiastic excesses and foreign practices posed a threat to the stability of the self-consciously sober society of the day. This incident, however, is a dubious parallel to Antiochus’s more far-reaching efforts to uproot the Jewish religion from its native soil. Or it could be that Antiochus was primarily motivated by a desire to erase the stigma attached to him and his reign by his utterly humiliating defeat by the Romans in Egypt. Other subject peoples might exploit this apparent weakness unless he showed, dramatically and decisively, that he was in charge. His decrees and subsequent actions against the Jews were no doubt dramatic, but it is difficult to ascribe their primary motivation to the realm of public relations. In short, there is no evidence that he planned to use the Jews as an example in this way.
Still another view is to place the burden not on Antiochus but on Jewish leaders, especially Jason, Menelaus, and their supporters. They are to be seen as the primary instigators in the efforts to hellenize Jerusalem and its rituals, and they are the ones who counseled Antiochus to adopt increasingly extreme policies in this regard. But again, the evidence does not support the view of Hellenism and Judaism as mutually exclusive allegiances or that their supposed opposition fueled the internal strife in Jerusalem, at least prior to 167 BCE. Nor can it be demonstrated that a Seleucid ruler during this period took his marching orders from the very people he ruled, even if their leaders had aligned themselves with him.
In short, we have no single answer to the question of what motivated Antiochus IV to promulgate and enforce the decrees of 167. More likely the solution lies in a combination of all these suggested factors. Brilliant but inconsistent, methodical yet brash, generous and cruel, Antiochus was a complex individual living in dangerous times. History would have been very different had he followed his loftier instincts.
Jewish Resistance under Judah Maccabe
As we have seen, the majority of Jerusalem’s population silently acquiesced to even the harshest of Antiochus IV’s decrees. In addition to the understandable desire to survive, there was a widespread belief that rebellion against a king, even a harsh foreign king, was against God’s will. The biblical text records numerous instances of Israel’s refusal to recognize that the Assyrians, Babylonians, and other powerful foes were in reality the rods of divine anger, to punish them for their sins. Perhaps the same was also true of the Seleucids.
But when had an enemy struck at the very heart of Israel’s monotheistic faith? What would the heroes of old have done in such a circumstance? Would they have quietly accepted Antiochus’s actions as the result of divine inevitability? Would they have simply abandoned Jerusalem for the relative security of the countryside? At least one family found inspiration for active opposition through their interpretation of the biblical record. In the town of Modein, not far from Jerusalem, lived the priest Mattathias and his five sons. One of his ancestors had been named Hashmonay, the origin of the collective designation of Mattathias and his descendants as the Hasmoneans. Around this family gathered a small band who initiated their armed conflict with the Seleucids through a series of guerrilla raids. Since they were vastly outnumbered and had only limited support from their fellow Jews, confining themselves to guerrilla operations was wise. In addition, the Hasmoneans could take advantage of their superior knowledge of the area’s topography. After the death of Mattathias, who was elderly when the conflict began, his son Judah (Judas), also known as the Maccabee (Maccabeus; the name means “hammer”), assumed the leadership and continued the series of military successes that the Hasmoneans had enjoyed almost from the beginning.
At first, Seleucid officials did not take seriously the threat posed by Judah. But his string of victories brought him increasing fame and increasing numbers of soldiers. Syria’s leaders could no longer afford to ignore them, especially because of Judea’s strategic location near the northern border of the weakened but still dangerous Ptolemaic empire. More substantial armies, commanded by experienced generals, were sent against the Maccabees, but the results were the same: Jewish victory, Seleucid defeat. As the situation grew graver, it attracted the personal attention of Lysias, whom Antiochus IV had placed in charge of the western portions of his kingdom while he himself headed east. Lysias marched at the he
ad of a massive army, but could do no better than fight to a draw against Judah’s outnumbered but energized troops.
In early 164 BCE negotiations opened between the Seleucids and the Jews. The Seleucid offer extended the promise of amnesty to all who renounced their rebellious activities and returned to their pre-rebellion lifestyle. Henceforth Jews could once again carry out the commands of the Torah, but they could not punish those Jews who chose not to. Moreover, the Jerusalem Temple remained in Seleucid hands, effectively barring the Jews from practicing the system of sacrifices that was central to communal worship. Equally upsetting to many was Menelaus’s confirmation as high priest. Nonetheless, this “Peace of Lysias” was accepted by large numbers of those who had fought alongside Judah, as well as by Menelaus and his supporters.
Judah and his numerically reduced band, refusing to lay down arms, continued their struggle against what they saw as the oppression of their fellow Jews. Confident of doing God’s will, Judah and his soldiers retook the Temple against only token opposition, and cleansed it from the physical and spiritual filth it had suffered. On the twenty-fifth day of the month of Kislev in 164 BCE, according to tradition exactly three years from the day when a pagan sacrifice was first offered at the Temple, priests were again able to make offerings to God in accordance with biblical commands. This event became the basis for the holiday of Hanukkah or Rededication, which continues to be celebrated for eight days by Jews throughout the world.
The Oxford History of the Biblical World Page 56