The Ark Before Noah

by Irving Finkel

  The Judaeans were thus to encounter a native religious system more akin to their own than would have been the case at an earlier date. Babylonian monotheism, whether a matter of wider state policy or closed theology within the colleges (let alone debated loose on the streets), must have offered a threatening backdrop to Judaeans with their own belief in a single god and responsibility to preserve that belief from contamination. It is also worth pointing out that the epithets of praise that were heaped on Marduk (shepherd, champion of the poor and weak, protector of widows and children, fighter for justice and truth) would not have sounded strange to Judaean ears brought up in their own tradition.

  For a variety of reasons the passing of the Judaean population into the cosmopolitan mass of sixth century Babylon might be expected to have seen its complete absorption and the ultimate disappearance of its religion within a relatively short time. This is especially the case since both communities, incoming minority and resident majority, shared the Aramaic language in common on top of their own substrate: Hebrew in the former case, Babylonian in the latter.

  A Babylonian schoolroom challenge: Who can write the Aramaic alphabet in cuneiform signs? Answer: a bi gi da e u za he tu ia ka la me nu ṣa a-a-nu pe ṣu qu ri shi ta.

  (picture acknowledgement 11.7)

  In addition, although such an issue is hard to calibrate, the populations were on some level ‘cousins’ in terms of Semitic-speaking Semitic stock. Under predictable conditions, without intervention, the Judaeans and their elusive, non-idolatrous faith would have surely disappeared from view. Support for this argument comes from the fate of the Israelites a century earlier, who were transported to Assyria and beyond by the Assyrians in military campaigns, and who are – more or less – entirely lost sight of as a result. Given this situation, it is thus intelligible that those who felt themselves responsible for the Judaean populations – both from a social and religious point of view – should have considered that preventative action should be taken to bind them together.

  It is these very circumstances, in the present writer’s view, that provided the first stimulus for the drawing up of the Hebrew Bible as a full work. The need was pressing from the outset, not at some point during the Persian or Hellenistic period (as is usually suggested), but from the inception of the Exile. It was necessary to provide a satisfactory explanation for the Judaeans of just how they could all come to be in Babylon in their present state, with their home country and all it meant to them in ruins.

  The whole had to be a long and convincing story, commencing with the very creation of the world, and proceeding down through the Patriarchs and the Monarchy and what came after, coming right up to date. The backbone of the whole would be the historical continuum through all its vagaries and disputes and confusions. The rounded text, along the way, would incorporate a rich collection of cultic traditions, poetry and wisdom, but its essential function would be to provide a lucid explanation for what had happened from the beginning of time and to demonstrate explicitly that the whole historical process from the inception of the world had been the unfolding of a divine plan of which they – the chosen people – were the central concern. The resulting compilation with its skilfully blended narratives emerged as a virtual handbook for ex-patriot Judaeans.

  In the light of this argument the constituent parts of the Old Testament all fulfil a transparent role. The great emphasis on family trees and genealogy throughout constitute the very materials on which threatened Judaean identity was predicated. Due to this collecting and listing of all the tribal descent information that survived, no one could remain in doubt as to who belonged and who didn’t. The first volume of Chronicles emerges as a sort of telephone book in which all the names were to be found, indispensable when it came to dealing with suitors for daughters.

  The written text of the Hebrew bible (whatever inspiration might have engendered it or arisen from it) is the work of human hands. Reading through it with this principle in mind shows this truth to be everywhere apparent. A basic list of features includes, for example, unnecessary repetitions and inappropriate insertions on the one hand, conflicting and overlapping accounts, and, as we have seen, specific acknowledgement of utilised writings on the other. Granted this, certain rational conclusions about the processes which produced the biblical text can be drawn, analogous to the production of any large-scale and complex literary compilation, such as a multi-volume encyclopaedia.

  The Hebrew text is infinitely more than could have been accomplished by any single individual; many were therefore involved, with a few in charge of the project. The production was – in large part – dependent on diverse pre-existing materials that could be reworked or streamlined into a whole. From this, certain points emerge:

  1. There must have been both some specific event or need to trigger such an undertaking, and a chronological moment when the work actually began.

  2. There must have been a clear vision that endured throughout the labour and resulted in internal consistency.

  3. Eventually there must have been a consensus as to the point when the primary work, at least, was finished.

  In my view, therefore, the Bible first developed into the work that we have today in the period, location and circumstances of the Babylonian Exile, as a direct response to that Exile.

  This broad principle does not conflict with the long-running internal analysis of the received biblical text that distinguishes separate authorship (such as J, P and E) on a line-by-line basis, for I assume that all available sources would be utilised, some coming with a history of internal editing; further moulding, interweaving and editing would be a long and ongoing process.

  That such a complex production could be so effectively engendered out of such diverse sources has several implications. The work of compilation must have been carried out by a group of specific individuals who had access to all existing records, under an agreed editorial authority. One must envisage a Bureau of Judaean History. That the whole, or almost the whole, was written in Hebrew and not Aramaic gives, I think, a clue to the agenda of political identity. It was for one readership only.

  It is against this backdrop that the incorporation of particular Babylonian traditions becomes intelligible. Perhaps there was a shortfall of native ideas among the Hebrew thinkers about the beginning of the world and civilisation. Whatever the case, certain powerful Babylonian narratives were taken up but, crucially, not adopted wholesale. The beginning of the Book of Genesis especially would be unrecognisable without the cuneiform substratum, but the stories were given a unique Judaean twist that allowed them to function in a wholly new context. There are three unambiguous cases that we can consider here.

  THE GREAT AGES OF MAN BEFORE THE FLOOD

  The Book of Genesis attributes superhuman longevity to Adam and his descendants all the way down to Lamech, the father of Noah, all of whom lived before the Flood. The champion, of course, is Methuselah:

  Adam: 930 years

  Seth: 912 years

  Enosh: 905 years

  Kenan: 910 years

  Mahalaleel: 895 years

  Jared: 962 years

  Enoch: 365 years

  Methuselah: 969 years

  Lamech: 595 years.

  The Babylonians earlier had a similar tradition in cuneiform, for the earliest kings in the Sumerian King List had hugely long reigns expressed in the same ŠÁR units of 3,600 that we encountered in Chapter 8 in the Ark Tablet’s specifications:

  When kingship was lowered from heaven

  The kingship was in Eridu.

  In Eridu Alulim became king

  and reigned 28,800 years;

  Alalgar reigned 36,000 years.

  2 kings reigned 64,800 years;

  Things changed

  Kingship went to Bad-Tibira

  In Bad-Tibira Enmenluanna

  Reigned 43,200 years;

  Enmengalanna

  Reigned 28,800 years

  Divine Dumuzi, the shepherd, reigned 36,000 years


  3 kings

  reigned 108,000 years.

  Sumerian King List: 1–17

  The Judaeans, anxious to establish lineage, undoubtedly took over this grand-scale idea, but they concluded that these early rulers with such long lives must have been giants, although the idea does not appear in the cuneiform tradition. The attempt by some scholars to treat the Genesis Great Ages tradition as if it had nothing to do with the cuneiform world seems to me utterly absurd.

  WHY THE FLOOD?

  Universal destruction by water is imposed on mankind in the Atrahasis story because humans were so noisy, and we are left uninformed as to what qualified the Babylonian hero for selection as saviour. The flood in the Bible, and the Koran after it, was punishment for wickedness. Noah was chosen explicitly because of his upright character and behaviour.

  THE SARGON LEGEND

  Sargon’s mother (Legend of Sargon, Chapter 8, p. 16) was a priestess who had no business having a baby in the first place and nobody was quite sure who the father was. His origins were thus murky, even a trifle sordid, and he grew up watering tomatoes in the country. Moses in the Book of Exodus was rescued by none other than the Pharaoh’s daughter. Unwittingly, they paid his own mother to suckle him, and the boy grew up with every possible advantage in the fat of the palace. It was necessary for such an iconic personage as Moses to have romantic or miraculous beginnings, but when the Babylonian story is given its new Judaean colouring the whole episode carries a different message. I think the milk-money episode must have induced roars of laughter at the stupid Egyptians.

  How then did these specific cuneiform materials find their way, reworked with moral flavour, into the biblical narrative?

  JUDAEANS LEARN CUNEIFORM

  The Hebrew Bible tells us in so many words that a hand-picked group of Judaean intelligentsia were inducted into the mysteries of cuneiform at the capital, and I see absolutely no reason not to take this statement at face value:

  3Then the king commanded his palace master Ashpenaz to bring some of the Israelites of the royal family and of the nobility, 4young men without physical defect and handsome, versed in every branch of wisdom, endowed with knowledge and insight, and competent to serve in the king’s palace; they were to be taught the literature and language of the Chaldeans. 5The king assigned them a daily portion of the royal rations of food and wine. They were to be educated for three years, so that at the end of that time they could be stationed in the king’s court.

  Daniel 1: 3–5

  The Book of Daniel is composed of tales about the Babylonian court interspersed with great visions, set in the time of the Exile, under the Neo-Babylonian kings and their Persian successors. Whereas it was once believed that the book dated to the sixth century BC, scholars now consider the editing of the whole, which incorporates older, traditional material, to date to the second century BC, just four hundred years after the Exile. This verdict may be true in general but to my mind the opening chapters of the book give, just for a moment, an oddly convincing flavour of Nebuchadnezzar’s court, and with regard to particularly the reference to learning the literature and language of the Chaldeans cuneiform classes, which are given such pointed attention right at the beginning of the book, I follow the text resolutely.

  There can be no doubt that what is meant, by this, is instruction in the cuneiform writing system and the Babylonian language. The Judaeans spoke Hebrew; the educated among them knew Aramaic. The programme was evidently part of Babylonian state policy to avoid long-term difficulty with imported populations: the cream would be acculturated to Babylonian life and ways, and the most effective and lasting way to achieve this was through reading and writing. We are told that Daniel and his intimates went on to become judges: all legal matters were conducted in Babylonian and recorded in cuneiform for a long time to come.

  As far as I know, my idea that this three-year teaching programme must refer to cuneiform has neither been proposed nor defended before, largely due perhaps to the absurd dismissal of the Book of Daniel as a reputable witness, but it is easy to show that, from the point of view of the humanities, this is one of the most significant passages in the Hebrew Bible. It allows us to make sense of many matters that are both unexplained and often left unconnected with one another.

  Curricular exercise no. 1: The Great Ages of Man. This tablet is inscribed with an interlinear Babylonian translation of the traditional Sumerian preamble to their list of antediluvian kings, with their great reign lengths, for study in school. This composition is known today as the Dynastic Chronicle; it derives directly from the Sumerian King List.

  (picture acknowledgement 11.8)

  We know from very abundant numbers of curricular tablets what went on in Babylonian schools of the Nebuchadnezzar period. The young candidates will have had the best of teachers. Hebrew and Aramaic were sisters to Babylonian, so mastery of the tongue for bright young persons was nothing. There were established ways to learn scribal technique, and before long they would be writing lists of signs and numbers, followed by words and formulae, names and a great variety of literary passages.

  What is so compelling for my argument is that we actually have cuneiform school tablets from Babylon of this period with study of and extracts from the Great Ages of Man, the Sargon Legend story, and the Epic of Gilgamesh, showing that the three works that best exemplify the process of borrowing were on the school curriculum. The trainee Judaeans would have encountered these very texts in their palace classroom.

  Curricular exercise no. 2: The Baby Sargon in his Coracle. A quotation appears in the second column, between other literary extracts and lists of signs. It covers lines 1–6.

  (picture acknowledgement 11.9)

  The existence of these three tablets suffices to identify the conduit that has previously eluded us. What is more, it is very straightforward. Judaeans learned to read cuneiform tablets.

  Curricular exercise no. 3: a classroom extract from Tablet III of the Epic of Gilgamesh.

  (picture acknowledgement 11.10)

  For the sharpest Judaean brains, encountering the vastness of the cuneiform heritage at the beginning of the sixth century BC must have been electrifying in its effect and must undoubtedly have launched certain individuals on long-term study and into participation in many kinds of work in which mastery of cuneiform was essential.

  In the years before Cyrus the Great conquered Babylon in 539 BC the Judaeans certainly did more than sit about and weep. They adjusted and settled. In time they became Mesopotamian citizens. By the time Cyrus arrived, by no means all of Nebuchadnezzar’s displaced persons wanted to go ‘home’ to Jerusalem. However, the Judaeans’ ancient and somewhat ramshackle religious identity had meanwhile been crystallising into permanence due to their encyclopaedia of history, custom, instruction and wisdom. They became literally the people of the book. From this angle it can be argued that the Babylonian Exile, far from being the disaster it is usually judged, was ultimately the process that forged what became modern Judaism.

  The development of the Hebrew Bible introduced something new into the world. For the first time scripture came into existence, a finite text corpus with beginning and end on which religious identity was predicated. Prior to this the world had only known religious texts. A pattern was established which has endured also through Christianity and Islam; a monotheistic religion with scripture at its core, which, being finite, generates commentary, explanation and interpretation, and often has to deal with apocrypha.

  Afterword

  The behaviour mechanics of the Judaean exiles once settled within Babylonia probably conformed to patterns discernible in the modern world among displaced and incoming large communities, whether compulsory immigrants or political and religious refugees. A mass of individuals, initially close together, in time fans out, ultimately around the country, if not already settled in areas by authority. In the case of the Judaeans, in particular, much as with the Jewish population that ended up in London or Manhattan after the Second World
War, social or national identity and religious identity were simultaneously powerful factors. The consequent evolution of this complex identity within Babylonia over time would result in three broad categories among the Judaeans that operated on a level separate from traditional tribal allegiance:

  1. those who were strongly aware of their history and culture, determined to continue as before and, while adjusting to the reality of the destruction of the Temple, were waiting to return to Jerusalem as soon as possible to rebuild it;

  2. those whose cultural allegiance and personal religious adherence was to traditional Judaean practice but without embracing a fully exclusive lifestyle;

  3. those who simply immersed themselves in Babylonian life in every way and to all intents and purposes became fully assimilated.

  To individuals in the third group, and possibly the second, the distinction between Marduk and their own Judaean god would come to seem far from clear. If both were, so to speak, the one god, then Marduk might well triumph as the visible counterpart of the other, and it seems probable that to many individuals, especially those of the second or third generation after the arrival, there might not have seemed much to choose between the two. Possibly both groups would have been quite content to give their children Babylonian names formed with those of Marduk, or his son Nabu, or Bel. Group 1 would avoid such names and use … -yahu names or names without any divine element. To the first group the separation of Marduk from the god of the Hebrews would remain an essential and cohesive preoccupation.

  Later documents from after the arrival of Cyrus the Great in 539 BC give us a fragmentary glimpse of these Judaean communities living together in Iraq after the departure of the others to Jerusalem. One of these places was called Jahudu, ‘Judaean Town’. The communities were well settled and organised, answerable to central authority, but still preserved the customs and practices they had brought with them, and they were certainly not ‘slaves in bondage’. Furthermore, their documents were written in Babylonian cuneiform.