The Persisting Uncertainties of Kuntillet ‘Ajrud

029

Everything about it has been difficult. Located in the Sinai desert about 10 miles west of the ancient Gaza Road (Darb Ghazza, in Arabic) as it passes through Bedouin territory separating the Negev from Egypt, it is remote and isolated from any other settlement. In 1975, a Tel Aviv University archaeologist named Ze’ev Meshel, together with a band of nine volunteers mostly from kibbutzim and a few colleagues as staff, decided to excavate the site. It has no Biblical name. The Bedouin call it Kuntillet ‘Ajrud, “the solitary hill of the water source.” Hoping for relatively comfortable weather, Meshel decided to begin the excavation in October, between the suffocating summer heat and the blinding winter sandstorms. “Unfortunately, we were gravely mistaken,” Meshel writes in the newly published excavation report (see sidebar). “The weather changed drastically from day to day, there were periods of non-stop winds, especially exposed on the summit of the hill, and the sun and dust blinded us and made excavation difficult.” They were forced to move their tent camp at the base of the hill from one side to the other and back again to prevent the wind from blowing it away. The weather proved 030 no less violent during a second season in December 1975 and a third season in May 1976. Then they departed.

The finds were fantastic. The zingers were two large pithoi, or storage jars, now reconstructed (Pithos A and Pithos B), that weighed about 30 pounds each and were painted with deities, humans, animals and symbols, as well as a number of inscriptions, including three that refer to Yahweh (the personal name of the Israelite God) and his asherah or Asherah, depending on your interpretation. Asherah, of course, is a pagan goddess. Was she God’s wife, as one popular book by a leading archaeologist put it?¹

Of the more-than-50 inscriptions that were recovered, 20 consist of only one or two letters. Still, that leaves 30 more-extensive inscriptions, an enormous collection. The most intriguing are painted on the pithoi. The language is Hebrew, as are the letters, although a few are Hebrew language in Phoenician script. Some of the inscriptions are incised on stone bowls; others are incised on pottery before firing; still others are written with ink on potsherds or on the plastered walls of the major building at the site.

Unfortunately, the two scholars responsible for reading and interpreting the inscriptions in this volume, Shmuel Ahituv and Esther Eshel, were not able to examine the artifacts themselves, only photographs. The artifacts from the site became inaccessible when they were returned to Egypt in 1994 as part of the 1979 Israel-Egypt peace treaty (more on that later).

One of the few things that seem clear is the date: The building containing most of the finds and the finds themselves date to about 800 B.C.E. or shortly thereafter. Why the settlement was established or why it was abandoned is another matter.

Below an inscription on Pithos A referring to Yahweh and his asherah are drawings of two figures. Indeed, the inscription runs through the crown of one of them. Each of the figures is easily and unquestionably identifiable as Bes, a collective name for a group of Egyptian dwarf deities. They are prominently pictured here with typical arms akimbo, hands on their sides, legs bowed, grotesque facial features, feathered headdresses and nude except for a lion skin. The Bes on the left is taller than the one on the right.

Bes figures are often associated with music and dancing, of which they were patrons. And, indeed, to the right of the two Bes figures is a seated woman playing a lyre—well, you might assume she was a woman because two round circles indicate the figure’s nipples or breasts. But Pirhiya Beck, who wrote the chapter on the drawings, emphasizes that this is not necessarily indicative. Little circles represent breasts or nipples on some male Bes figures also. One example, according to Beck, is the Bes figure on the right. Although it is shorter than its mate, smaller, with a less fancy headdress and has nipples or breasts depicted by little circles, Beck nevertheless regards this Bes as 031 male. As proof, Beck points to the vertical lines below the nose (in both Bes figures); if these are intended to represent beards, “then both figures are apparently male.”

The Bes on the left is also male. But not for the obvious reason. Dangling from between its legs is an appendage. It is not what you think it is, however. It is only the tail of the lion skin customarily worn by Bes, according to Beck.²

In the end, Beck considers it “doubtful” that the two Bes figures were meant to represent a god-and-goddess couple. Other scholars may disagree, however. One factor that might have supported Beck’s conclusion has literally disappeared. Beck’s contribution to this volume is a reprint of her 1982 article in the journal Tel Aviv.³ At the time that Beck studied these Bes drawings, both figures were covered with black soot. So far as could be seen, it appeared to her that both Bes figures had appendages between their legs. If these appendages are interpreted as penises, rather than tails, the two Bes figures can hardly be interpreted as a god-and-goddess couple. In time, however, most of the soot faded and it became clear that the Bes on the right had nothing between its legs. In this volume, the Bes on the right is drawn without an appendage (unlike the drawing in Beck’s 1982 article in Tel Aviv). As the editors of this volume state, “This fact may change the interpretation of the whole scene” (p. 165). Unfortunately, Professor Beck died of cancer in 1998, so we cannot know what her reaction would be now.

An inscription above the heads of the Bes figures reads in part: “I have [b]lessed you to YHWH [Yahweh] of Shomron [Samaria] and to his asherah.”

This raises two huge questions: (1) What is “his” asherah? There are no capital letters in ancient Hebrew. So we don’t know whether it’s “asherah” or “Asherah”; that is, we don’t know whether Asherah is Yahweh’s consort or whether asherah is his symbol, like a sacred tree or a pole. (2) And how do we understand the attribution of “Shomron” to this Yahweh? Was 032 Shomron indicative of God’s dwelling place?

As noted above, the inscription partially covers the crown of the Bes on the left. Ahituv and Eshel conclude that the inscription was added after the drawings of the Bes figures were painted; therefore the inscription and the Bes figures are very probably unrelated.

The literature on Asherah vs. asherah is vast.^a There is no question that Asherah was one of the chief female deities in the Canaanite pantheon. She was the consort of the god El. But she seems to have vanished from Canaanite/Phoenician inscriptions by the first millennium B.C.E. Whether the Biblical authors remembered her in this form is questionable; the word occasionally appears in the Bible in the masculine plural (asherim). It also appears in the feminine plural (asherot), referring to cultic objects similar to standing stones (matzevot). Sometimes the asherim or asherot, especially in the context of matzevot, are to be cut down or burned; such references must be sacred posts. The editors conclude that the blessing formula “Yahweh and his asherah” refers not to the goddess Asherah but to a cultic object like a sacred pole or tree. One such sacred tree is in fact depicted on the other side of this same pithos.

The geographical marker “Yahweh of Shomron” appears in the inscription on Pithos A. Another geographical marker appears in an inscription on Pithos B: “I have blessed you by YHWH of Teman and his asherah.” The text continues: “May He bless you and may He keep you, and may He be with my lord [forever?].” This echo of the priestly blessing from Numbers is startling, and the recognition for many will be a moving moment: “[May] the Lord [YHWH] bless you and keep you” (Numbers 6:24). The Kuntillet ‘Ajrud text is two centuries earlier than the silver amulets from Ketef Hinnom in Jerusalem that likewise echo this Biblical text.^b

“Yahweh of Teman” is referred to once more on Pithos B and also twice on a piece of plaster 033 034 that had fallen to the floor. The script of the latter is Phoenician, although the language is Hebrew. It reads in part: “[May] he lengthen their days and may they be sated … recount to [Y]HWH of Teman and his asherah … YHWH of the Te[man] has shown them favor, has bettered their days …” (p. 104).

Teman seems to have a variety of ancient references. It sometimes refers to Mt. Sinai. It can also refer to part of the Negev and a city in Edom. The references here to Shomron (Samaria) and Teman indicate the areas (non-exclusive) over which Yahweh rules or where he dwells. We find the same thing in the Bible. “God is coming from Teman,” reads Habakkuk 3:3 (see also Zechariah 9:14; Psalms 78:26), Such references are common not only with respect to Yahweh, but with respect to other gods as well. As the editors state: “Other gods are mentioned together with their dwelling place, as in ‘Ba‘al of Hermon’ or ‘Ba‘al of Hasor,’ and it is thus not surprising that the God of Israel would be referred to in this manner as well” (p. 130). The Bible also tells us poetically that “the mountains dripped before Yahweh of Sinai” (Judges 5:5).

The prayer that encapsulates Israelite monotheism, “Hear O Israel, the Lord (Yahweh) our God, the Lord (Yahweh) is One” (Deuteronomy 6:4), is thought to be a reaction to the notion that Yahweh “had various local manifestations,” as the editors put it. The Kuntillet ‘Ajrud texts represent this local understanding.

A drawing on Pithos B features a procession of worshipers with arms raised in a gesture of adoration or perhaps supplication. The five figures all face left. They are drawn adjacent to the two inscriptions referring to “Yahweh of Teman and his asherah,” but, again, it is doubtful that there is any connection between the texts and the drawing.

This is only a taste of the drawings on these pithoi. Others include the drawing mentioned above of horned ibexes flanking a sacred tree, a common motif in the ancient Near East; a majestic lion with a protruding tongue; an archer; and a calf suckling its mother with her head turned back, another common motif. The bases of many more pithoi were recovered; one can only wonder what treasures were painted on them when they were whole.

In addition to the inscriptions on the two pithoi, other inscriptions were found on wall plaster. The following theophany, painted on a piece of plaster found lying on the floor, reads in part: “When God shines forth … [Y]HW[H] … The mountains will melt, the hills will crush … The Holy One over the gods … Prepare (yourself) [to] bless Ba‘al on a day of war … to the name of El on a day of [w]ar” (p. 109). The possibilities of interpretation are myriad.

Does all this help to tell us what kind of site Kuntellet ‘Ajrud was? Yes and no. It surely seems 035 to have been a religious site. But more than that is difficult to say. Oddly, despite the clearly religious nature of the drawings and inscriptions, no evidence of cultic activities was found at the site—no altar, no shovels, no incense burners or incense, no offerings or sacrifices, no idols or figurines. On the other hand, a platform in a second building on the site might be interpreted as a bamah, or high place. Perhaps the site was abandoned voluntarily and the inhabitants simply carried off the cultic equipment with them when they left.

On potsherds from the shoulders of 20 of the pithoi, one or two letters were incised prior to firing. Most common were the letters aleph and yod. At least two of these potsherds were labeled kuf resh, QR. The excavator suggests this stood for qorban, “sacrifice.” If so, this is more evidence of the religious nature of the site. The other two single letters may have indicated the tithed quantity or quality of the contents.

The building’s two kitchens each had only one tabun (Arabic for “oven”) at any given time, which suggests that living was communal, perhaps for priests. Another fact suggestive of priests are the textiles found at the site: Most are linen; very few fragments are of wool. The Bible frequently prescribes linen clothing for priests (see, e.g., Ezekiel 44:17–18).

The building in which most of the drawings and inscriptions were found is itself a conundrum. It has a fortress-like plan with four corner towers. But clearly it did not function as a fortress. It differs 036 from the many other Israelite fortresses in the Negev. For example, it has no casemate walls (double walls periodically connected with short walls perpendicular to the long walls). Most importantly, it has a narrow room with benches just inside the entrance—the excavators call it the bench room—from which most of the finds were retrieved. This portion of the building was coated in white plaster and decorated with a few colored murals. Scholars have made a variety of suggestions as to what the structure was used for—a desert way-station, a caravanserai, a kind of inn, a rest stop for pilgrims, a fortified trading post, a pilgrimage site, a shrine, a cult center, a religious school, a retreat for priests, etc.

Another surprising conclusion: Although the site is on the southern border of Judah, the authors connect it to the northern kingdom of Israel. And they have some pretty convincing evidence. The northern connection is reflected most convincingly in the theophoric elements of the personal names found at the site. Let me unpack this: References to deities, called theophoric elements, are often incorporated into personal names; in this case the deity is Yahweh (YHWH). These abbreviations of Yahweh take two forms: In Judah the theophoric element is YHW, usually written “-yahu,” as for example in the name of Israel’s prime minister, Netanyahu—literally, “gift of Yahweh.” In the northern kingdom of Israel the theophoric element is spelled YW, usually written “-yo.” In Hebrew the difference in spelling is small—only one letter—although when written in Latin letters the two seem quite different.

Sometimes one of these “abbreviations” is used instead of the full name Yahweh. In one inscription at Kuntillet ‘Ajrud, we find it once by itself as meaning YHWH. More often, the “abbreviation” 037 appears as the last syllable of a name. In an inscription on the rim of a large 400-pound stone bowl the name Obadiah is spelled ’BDYW: “Of [or “To”] Obadiah [ending in YW] son of ‘Adnah, blessed be he to YHW.” The consistent use of the theophoric element “yo” rather than “yahu” in names at Kuntillet ‘Ajrud is a strong indication that it is an Israelite site, not a Judahite site.

Other reasons also point to Kuntellet ‘Ajrud as an Israelite, not a Judahite, site—such as the occasional use of Phoenician script and the reference to Yahweh of Samaria (in Israel).

The excavator explains the Israelite identification as a result of an internecine conflict in which Joash (or Yoash [802–787 B.C.E.]), king of Israel, defeated Amaziah, king of Judah. As a result of Amaziah’s defeat, Israel dominated Judah. The excavator suggests that Joash established the site of Kuntillet ‘Ajrud to demonstrate his control and authority at the southern extremity of the kingdom of Judah (see 2 Kings 14:8–14; 2 Chronicles 25:17–24).^c

All in all, this final excavation report is a superb volume, although inevitably it won’t have the final say. The discussion and interpretation will continue far beyond its pages.

On the one hand, you can regard the book’s appearance—delayed almost 40 years—as well worth the wait. On the other hand, you can ask why it has taken so long. On January 16, 2011—ten days before the Arab Spring erupted in Tahrir Square—I interviewed Egypt’s then-head of the Supreme Council of Antiquities, Zahi Hawass, in his Cairo office.^d Among the other subjects of the interview, I was concerned about the finds from Kuntillet ‘Ajrud since they were turned over to the Egyptians in 1994 as part of the 1979 Israel-Egypt peace treaty. They had never been seen or heard from since. Reportedly, they were still in the boxes in which they were returned.

I asked Hawass what happened to them. He replied that he did not know but would look into it. He also threw a little dig back at me: “I have never seen any publication saying what you are telling me.”

“You are very right,” I admitted.

As a result of subsequent events—Hawass was thrown out of office, reappointed, then thrown out again; he is now facing criminal charges—he understandably never got back to me. On February 3, 2011, Hawass’s office reported that there had been a break-in at the archaeological storage facility at Qantara, on the west bank of the Suez Canal, the most likely place where the Kuntillet ‘Ajrud artifacts were stored; “six boxes were taken,” Hawass reported.

Some of the stolen artifacts were quickly recovered. Then, on March 3, the Egyptian press reported that 30 truckloads of antiquities from the Qantara storage facility had been moved for safekeeping to the Egyptian Museum in Cairo. Included were “Sinai artifacts that were retrieved from Israel following the signing of the Egypt-Israel peace treaty.”

079

Why has it taken nearly four decades to publish this final report? One reason is that everything about the site and its finds is so darn difficult to interpret—or even to see. It is striking how often in this volume a discussion ends with a question mark, if not literally then figuratively. Take the site itself: We don’t really know why it was established, what it was, who lived here or why it was abandoned. And this is nothing compared to the difficulty of interpreting the finds. As Beck writes of the drawings, “The interpretation of most of the scenes remains uncertain.” But there is something else—the difficult inscriptions. Excavator Ze’ev Meshel struggled for years to address them. He consulted internationally known epigraphers like Frank Cross of Harvard, André Lemaire of the Sorbonne and Kyle McCarter of the Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore and made very substantial progress, as revealed in his path-breaking 1979 article in BAR.^e Finally, however, in 2006 Meshel (reluctantly?) assigned the final publication of the inscriptions to two leading Israeli epigraphers—Shmuel Ahituv of Ben Gurion University of the Negev and Esther Eshel of Bar-Ilan University. Of course, they built on the work Meshel had already done, so he is listed as the third author of the volume’s chapter on the inscriptions. Ahituv and Eshel, too, consulted experts internationally, for whom they express their thanks. But Ahituv and Eshel are also explicit: “The final version of this chapter was authored by Ahituv and Eshel and reflects their views and conclusions.” What heated discussions this statement screens we cannot know—nor do we need to.

All in all, this final excavation report is a magnificent production despite the many unanswered questions with which it leaves us.

Everything about it has been difficult. Located in the Sinai desert about 10 miles west of the ancient Gaza Road (Darb Ghazza, in Arabic) as it passes through Bedouin territory separating the Negev from Egypt, it is remote and isolated from any other settlement. In 1975, a Tel Aviv University archaeologist named Ze’ev Meshel, together with a band of nine volunteers mostly from kibbutzim and a few colleagues as staff, decided to excavate the site. It has no Biblical name. The Bedouin call it Kuntillet ‘Ajrud, “the solitary hill of the water source.” Hoping for relatively comfortable weather, Meshel […]